#george chapter of the day no. 5

[harrisongslimited]

George Chapter of the Day. #5

I Saw Her Standing There

(**Please read General Trigger warnings in Chapter 1)

**********18+ only***********

Specifically slow burn romance brewing.

Chapter 5

Joie heard the phone ring the next morning. She felt exhausted. She wasn't sure what time zone she was in. But Freda popped her head in to see if she was awake.

"You feel like another trip?"

Joie yawned and smiled. "Sure. Where?"

"John and Cyn's house. It's George on the phone. He'll pick you up in 30 minutes. Can you be ready?"

"Absolutely!" Joie exclaimed jumping up from bed. She jumped in the tiny shower, pulled a comb through her hair, put on some make up and was ready when George came.

When Joie saw Freda wasn't ready, she asked what was up.

"Going to my sister's house. Every Sunday. Maybe you can come next week?"

"Sure. Are you certain you don't want me to go with you?"

"I'm sure. You'll like Cyn, John's wife. It's good that you'll go. You'll have a nice time with George on the ride too. He's a great guy."

"Where do they live?"

"Kenwood. It's about a 30 minute drive."

"George will make it in 20."

Freda laughed. "No doubt."

..........

"Hi," she said to him as she slid into the seat next to him.

"Hello," he answered with a cheery smile. "Freda said she's going to her sis's?"

Joie nodded. "Would you rather wait for a time she can come with?"

George shook his head. "No. I need to talk to John anyway. And you'll like Cyn. She's a very down to earth type. They have a son too. Julian. He's 2 I think."

Joie was surprised to hear that John not only was married but had a young son.

George revved up his mini cooper and sped off. It was silent for awhile, but Joie didn't feel uncomfortable. George just struck her as someone who didn't talk unless he had something to say.

"Do you mind telling me about your family?" Joie finally asked. "Are your mum and dad happy about your success?"

George looked at her a brief moment and smiled. God, she was adorable and smelled earthy, sweet.....clean, sexy, like just after a long needed spring rain...He knew he had to snap out of his thoughts and get back into the conversation but he'd rather have his arms wrapped around her lovely body. He coughed to change the channel in his thoughts. "They were always very supportive of my music. I used to skip school to go practice and although I don't think my dad thought it was very smart, he usually went along with it. I wore these tight stove-pipe pants and picklewinkers."

"What are picklewinkers?"

"Pointy black shoes. I had this Elvis haircut. Used to drive my mum crazy, but she always went along with it too. I have a sister who got married and lives in the states and 2 brothers. We're close."

"How did you meet John and how did the band start?"

"That's a long, long story. Paul introduced me to John. I used to ride the same bus with Paul to school. My dad drove the bus."

"And one thing led to another?"

"Pretty much. With a lot of twists and turns along the way."

They were silent again until Joie asked, "How do you feel about doing the movie?"

"It's mainly publicity for our music. Capitalize on the frenzy, you know?" he explained. "Don't know how long it will last."

"You don't think the Beatles will last?"

"Oh, the Beatles will probably last. But the craziness probably won't. John says we are lucky if we get 2 years on top."

"But look at Elvis. He's still around..."

"He's in a class by himself. And they've got him making movies now. I guess we will have to reinvent ourselves at some point too."

"Maybe movies?"

"Maybe. Don't really know what's going to happen."

Joie looked at him intently. "Are you enjoying the ride while it lasts?"

He looked back at her. "Sometimes."

..........

George made the introductions when they arrived at John and Cynthia's beautiful Kenwood home. Good smells were coming out of the kitchen and John offered Joie a glass of wine which she accepted. She'd never really drank before. The wine was smooth and dry and relaxed her.

Cyn and Joie went into the kitchen to talk and have their wine while John and George talked music and even called Paul at one point. Joie heard his name mentioned and tried to listen to their conversation then she remembered the list of things she was never going to do again.

Joie took another sip of her wine and asked, "Tell me about Julian. I hear he's just a joy. Where is he?"

"He's at my mum's. John is home so rarely, we try to make time for one another at least as much as we can. He spent the day yesterday with Julian. He's a wonderful little boy. He loves to draw and tries to play guitar like his dad."

Cynthia filled her wine glass again. And again. And again. Joie realized at one point that she couldn't stand up. She was horrified. She was hopeful that eating some dinner would help sober her up, but her head was spinning. How could she have let this happen? She had to make it back to Freda's. She had to get up in the morning for a meeting at Shepperton Studios for all the extras. Her anxiety was beginning to grab a hold of her. But she put up a good front. It was then she realized everyone was drinking and had no notice of her condition.

She was drunk. Hammered, liquored up, smashed, bombed. Oh my God, help me!

Drunk in England at the home of John and Cynthia Lennon. George Harrison was going to drive her home. She needed air. And fast.

She asked George for a cigarette and went outside to smoke it. But Cyn told her it was okay to smoke inside the house. It was then she leveled with Cynthia.

"I'm not used to drinking," she admitted, the room spinning around her "I really needed some air."

"Are you ok?" Cynthia asked, but went back inside the house, returning with a shawl that Joie could put around her shoulders against the cool, English evening air.

"Thank you, yes. I'm fine. I just needed air."

Cynthia kept her company as Joie attempted to sober up.

"It's hard to keep up with these boys," Cyn admitted. "I tried for years. You know, trying to fit in. You just have to go your own way."

"I usually do," Joie answered. "but I just am not used to drinking very much and I lost track."

"You ok now?"

Joie nodded. But as she went in, John and George were opening up another bottle of wine. Her glass was filled. But she ignored it for the most part. She'd had enough. It did help her relax and be more at ease with the company she was in. But when Paul showed up, all bets were off. She took another large sip of wine.

Why did he have to show up...and alone? Girlfriend, Joie told herself. He's got a girlfriend. Remember that. He's off limits. Besides, what would a man like Paul McCartney want with a simple California girl like Joie Armagh?

STOP! Joie told herself. STOP! You've had too much wine and aren't thinking right. You're thinking about things that you promised you wouldn't. Right then, she wished she could ask George to take her home. She wanted to lay down on the bed and sleep. But with Paul just arriving and the 3 of them talking, she didn't want to ruin George's evening. "Hi George," she'd say. "Take me home. I'm drunk as a church mouse in the wine cabinet."

Oh lord, no. He was so kind to her, she didn't want to look like some drunk off the street. Maybe Paul could just take her home.

..........

Cynthia made tea, settling the room from spinning in Joie's case, and yet she knew she was still drunk. She excused herself and went to the bathroom and put cool water on her neck and wrists. The water felt wonderful. But she still wanted to close her eyes and go to sleep.

She managed to stay in the conversations but used everything in her arsenal to appear in control. But when Paul announced he was leaving, she blurted out, "Do you think you could take me to Freda's? I'm still suffering from jet lag and am totally exhausted."

When she began to gather her purse and coat, by the time she returned, Paul had left without her.

"He's said to say sorry. He was late already to pick up Jane." John explained simply. "You can crash here if you need to. Plenty of room."

"That's ok," George interjected quickly. "I'll take Joie home. It's no trouble."

"I hate to end your evening this way...that's why I asked Paul to take me home. He mentioned he couldn't stay long because of Jane."

"Joie," George looked into her eyes and spoke gently, softly. "It's no problem. I'll take you home."

Joie blinked and tried to read George's face. His eyes held a sweetness she never saw on anyone...not even Charlie when they were making out.

"Okay," she smiled back at him, enjoying being the object of his laser focus.

"Good. I'll get the coats and we'll leave."

Joie said her goodbye's to Cyn, who tucked her phone number in Joie's purse. "Call me anytime. I'm usually here. We can talk more. Anytime. Really"

"Thank you so much. I had a wonderful time. And give Julian a hug from me"

George escorted her to the car and opened the door for her. As he started the car, Joie knew she was going to be sick. But she just couldn't. Not with George. She had to make it to Freda's somehow. But everything was spinning.

She couldn't understand it. She'd had wine before. But just maybe it was too much with her nervousness.

"It's been a little too much, hey?" George finally asked after she had been quiet for awhile.

"I guess so..." she muttered. "Ah, George....."

"Yea?"

"George....."

She touched his arm. "Could you please stop the car? I need to get some air."

She immediately jumped out of the car and ran into some bushes where she promptly threw up over and over. Then the headache started. She thought she was dying. Dying from the wine, dying from embarrassment.

Finally, in silence, she made her way back to George's car, her head hanging down because she felt like an idiot.

"Um...Cyn's cooking?" he joked.

Joie laughed weakly. "Too much of everything I think"

"You ok?"

She looked at him. He was smiling gently. "I'm so sorry," she told him, her voice wobbly as she tried not to cry. "I'm just so sorry..."

"eh," George dismissed it. Handing her some tissues from the glove box, his hand laid on her thigh. "Just let me know if you need me to stop again. We'll be at Freda's in 15 minutes."

"I'm so sorry..."she repeated again.

"You just got your wings, Joie. "We've all been through it. Every single one of us."

"Some wings..." she mumbled and blew her nose.

"I know......I know. It's ok though. Don't worry about it. Take a couple of aspirin and call me in the morning."

"Doctor Harrison?"

"Yes. Absolutely. That's me. I've been told I have a great bed-side manner."

Joie laughed and thought "I believe you would" and wondered what it would be like if he kissed her with that sensual mouth. "I knew it all along..."

She managed to stay composed the rest of the way to Freda's. George helped her into the apartment. Freda wasn't back from her sister's and Joie was glad Freda had given her a key.

"I'm so sorry...."

He took her face in his strong, soft hands. His eyes went right into her heart. Was she seeing things? Was it the wine? "It's ok Joie," he whispered in her ear, his warm breath giving her goosebumps. "Get some sleep."

"I feel better now."

"Good" he answered. "Have a cup of tea, wash your face, take the aspirin and get to bed. You'll be ok in the morning."

It took everything in him to turn to leave. "Here's my personal phone number. Call me in the morning."

"I will" she promised taking the number.

"Good night."

"Night George and thank you for taking me and bringing me home."

"You're welcome."

And he was gone. Joie went to the bathroom and didn't recognize the woman in the mirror. Her face was blotchy and her mascara had smudged around her eyes. In the right lighting, she could be a stand-in for Frankenstein.

"Some impression....." she told the reflection. But she did as she was instructed. Washed her face, took 2 aspirin and went to bed.

She wondered why George treated her like a princess especially since she asked Paul to take her home. She decided doing that was exceptionally bad form and swore it would never happen again. She closed her eyes and fell into a fitful sleep.

..........

The first thing Joie Armagh did when she woke up was to take 2 more aspirins. Her head was killing her. She had gotten drunk at John Lennon's house. She still couldn't believe it. Joie added it to 'The List of Things She Must Not Do Ever Again', then called Cynthia to thank her for a wonderful evening. They chatted for a few minutes and promised to try to get together soon. Her next call was to George, but there was no answer. Instead, there was a knock at the door.

There Paul McCartney stood. "ready for work, miss? Your car awaits."

Joie blinked her eyes. "Ah, um, you're taking me?"

"We are going in the same direction at the same time. Do you mind? Besides, George was going to do it but got involved in some phone call and was running late."

"Of course I don't mind. Come on in while I get my coat and my meeting notes. Then I'm ready."

As he opened the car door, Joie looked into his brown eyes.

"Sorry I had to leave last night from John's house. Didn't think you'd be stranded since George was there."

"It was fine," she told him honestly. "I came with George so I should have planned to leave with him. I just saw you were leaving and I was so tired."

"And potted..." he laughed.

"Was it that obvious?" she asked him when he got into the driver's seat.

"No. Not really," was all he said.

[chut-je-dors]

your 5TL rb! ahhh I miss them too 🥺. I think that’s one of my favorite Johns to read he is so special to me 🥰. I hope you feel inspired to revisit the story soon 💕

😭😭 oh nonnie, it's not about lack of inspiration, I wish it WAS so I wouldn't feel so frustrated about the lack of process. It's just that I literally never have time anymore to write, or energy when I DO have time. BUT! I'm finishing up my studies now and I should have some more free time now, and I'm looking forward to writing more 💕 5tl is the first wip I'm opening, I promise!

[writer-logbook]

How to get back into writing: a 5-steps guide

As someone who hasn't written anything in a decade, this is what I did to get back into writing seriously.

Identify which archetype of writer fits me better. You may have heard George R.R. Martin saying there are two types of writers: gardeners and architects. Whether you believe in that statement or not isn't relevant per se, but the actual meaning behind that point is that you need to get to know yourself as a writer, how you work, what you need, etc., so you can adapt your environment to achieve your goals. Speaking of which…Gentle reminder : you're a person not a robot. You are allowed to work the way you want to, and not to follow whatever pieces of advice that are linked to these archetypes.

Set a realistic word count/session I can stick to over the long term. When you're a 9-6 office employee, it's not always easy to find time to write and sometime our day at work got the very best of us. Having that in mind, I set my word count up to 200-500 words per session or 1 chapter per week (they're rather small in my case). Gentle reminder : babysteps are better than no-step at all.

If I'm not writing, fine, I'll do some research or anything else. Your story will always require something from you. When I'm not in the mood for writing, there are two options : forcing myself or doing what I call para-writing. For instance it's : reading articles or books about improving my writing style, improving my worldbuilding, drawing a map of my city etc. This are not things that would appear in the novel but it would guide me throughout the process the way a walking-stick would do for an injured man. Gentle reminder : you always find something useful to do but at the end of the day, you still have to write.

Have a general idea of what I want to tell. I won't lie, I've plotted my entire novel from the very beginning to the very end, which means I know exactly what to write and when. If you're against having a defined plot, I'm no one to judge, but having at least the key events or the major points will definitely help you. Like a lighthouse, it will help you navigate through the mists of confusion or hesitation. Gentle reminder : It's better to know where to go even if you end up losing yourself along the journey. Having the map doesn't mean you have to follow it, but rather when you can allow yourself to take a step to the side.

Write something I enjoy. A bit cliché I admit, but it's the best advice I could give. You'll spend hours, days, weeks - even years !- on that story so better buckle up to something you really want to write. Otherwise the risk is to abandon that hard-work you've done halfway through the process. No one needs that frustration and that self-doubting questionnings. No one. Not you. Not even me. Gentle reminder : it's okay to want readers and reviews but I promise you, your writing will be really different on something you trully want to share...Remember how pissful it was to write an essay for class you didn't want to ?

[superhaught]

Sweetest Girl (Chapter Five)

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warning(s): continuation of angst but don't worry

Word Count: 2250, part 5/5

First ever fully finished fic if you can believe it

as per usual, @sapphicantics saw it first <3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Monday: the remainder of the day was a special kind of hell crafted just for you. 

When you left Regina in the bathroom, you sprinted straight outside to the courtyard and collapsed on the ground against a tree trunk and just sobbed. Full on shaking, head-in-hands, sobbed. If someone were there to ask you what was wrong, you wouldn’t know what to say. You were just… so overwhelmed. 

You didn’t even know when you got close enough to Regina that it hurt in your chest so bad to be… to be, what? In a fight with her? Was it even a fight? 

Everything you were feeling was a nightmare. 

You were confused but you were pissed at her for being confusing. And you were still trying to be nice and understanding but you were fucking hurt. You felt stupid for even allowing yourself to catch feelings for the mean girl. But you felt stupider for thinking that because Regina wasn’t mean. Not really.

So you just sobbed. You sobbed through your lunch hour and stopped yourself when the bell rang. You stood up, wiped your face with your sleeve, dusted your pants off, and went to class. There was nothing else to do right now, and you didn’t want this thing with Regina to ruin another class today. 

And even though you tried your best, you couldn’t focus through the end of the day. Suddenly, the final bell went off and you were being dismissed with no recollection of the past three hours worth of lectures. 

You walked home from school, taking the long way so that you could listen to fifteen more minutes worth of music and therefore, get fifteen more minutes without having to think. 

You didn’t see Regina again after your conversation in the bathroom. You were glad that she didn’t see you being a pathetic wreck over this. 

When Regina was left alone in the bathroom, she clenched her fists so hard that her manicure hurt her palms. She locked herself in a stall and punched the door after slamming in shut as tears stung the corners of her eyes. 

She took one deep breath. And then another. Trying desperately to calm herself. But it didn’t work. 

Nothing made sense. 

Regina knew, had known, for a long time, that she liked girls. But more importantly, she knew that she wasn’t supposed to. 

So her crush on Janis had to die along with their friendship. 

The tension with Cady was… well that was its own thing. Getting hit by a goddamn bus nipped that in the bud pretty quick.

She always got by pretending. She could date boys for a couple weeks at a time, perform the way she was supposed to, even have sex with them. It didn’t matter that she hated it as long as no one was the wiser. 

But you… 

You were different. 

She liked you. She really fucking liked you. And she also hated you for it. Because you were going to ruin her life. And she knew it. 

You were too fucking sweet. And too fucking perfect. And when she thought about it too hard, Regina would think stupid shit like “I’d rather get hit by three busses in rapid succession than lose that perfect, sweet, fucking infuriating girl.” 

Regina punched the bathroom stall door one more time to make herself cry because she needed to cry but she also needed an excuse to and so as the tears started to fall she took out one of those paper toilet seat covers and laid it down on the seat before sitting down and bawling. 

Twenty minutes later, Regina walked out of the stall and took her portable ice roller out of her purse, swiping it under her eyes a few times while sniffling. She cleaned her face and reapplied her makeup and then left school and took herself home early. 

Regina told her mom that she wasn’t feeling well, went straight to her bedroom, dry-swallowed her prescription naproxen, and went to sleep. 

Tuesday: you stuck to your routine to stay sane. 

You woke up at 5:30 and walked to school. You were able to get inside as soon as the doors were unlocked. You went to the weight room and worked out for ten minutes so that it wouldn’t look weird for you to use the showers, even though you were the only soul there at that hour. Then you went to the cafeteria to pick up your free breakfast. Couldn’t complain today, you always liked the cinnamon Texas toast. 

You ate, attended your early class, and then sat out front to read while your classmates rolled in before first period. 

Once again, you heard Regina’s Jeep before you saw it. You didn’t want to look up, but you did anyway. 

You watched her park her car but she didn’t get out. You watched Gretchen and Karen walk across the parking lot and tap on her window just to be apparently shooed away, because they came back looking like kicked puppies. 

You had to leave to get to class on time so you never saw Regina get out of her car and walk into the school. 

So you waited anxiously until chemistry, but she never showed. 

When class ended, you walked up to your teacher’s desk.

She looked up, “yes?” 

“I know you can’t actually answer this… but do you know why Regina wasn't in class today?” 

“I figured you’d have a better idea than me, why do you ask?” 

“I’m just worried about her.” 

Your teacher smiled, “then, I’d suggest you tell her that.” 

You nodded and left. Taking a deep breath, you took your phone out and sent a tentative text to Regina. 

Hey, you weren’t in class. You okay?

A few minutes passed but then she responded, had a meeting at the same time. Y? Miss me? 

You rolled your eyes and typed back, will you be in class tomorrow? Just wanna know how many lectures I’ll have to catch you up on. 

You’re sweet. But I’m very accomplished at chemistry now, remember? 

She sent a double text a moment later, I’ll probably make an appearance. 

Again, yours and Regina’s paths didn’t cross for the rest of the day. By the time you were leaving the building to go home, Regina’s parking space was already empty. 

You sighed and began your trek with plans to stop for groceries at the store on the way. 

After purchasing the cheapest loaf of white bread and as many cans as twenty dollars could buy. But before you checked out, you replaced one Hormel chili can with a Mountain Dew from the fridge in the check out aisle. 

Regina stuck it out for the whole day this time but she was first out of the parking lot when the day ended. Nothing could keep her in that building longer than she had to be right now. 

The only issue was that she didn’t want to go home either. 

Without thinking about it too much, Regina ended up putting her car in park in the same spot that she dropped you off that weekend.

She sighed and stretched her neck from one side to the other. She was sore from physical therapy earlier. 

After sitting there for twenty minutes cycling through radio stations all playing the same top forty songs, she realized that she didn’t know what she was doing there. She didn’t know what she would say to you if she saw you. She didn’t want to talk to you… really talk to you… until she had it all figured out.

Regina turned her car back on, pulled back onto the paved road and went home.

Wednesday: the next morning went like any other, with the exception of trudging to school in the pouring rain. 

The night prior, you ate poorly heated-up chili out of a paper bowl and wrote a note for Regina. It culminated to just a few sentences, but you chewed on the end of your pen like it was the most important essay you’d ever written. 

You hoped that it would make some kind of difference. 

You sped through the halls to get to chemistry a few minutes early and you placed the paper note on her seat with the can of Mountain Dew on top of it. 

You were seated by the time Regina came into the classroom. 

She went straight to her desk and set her tote down on the surface then picked up the Mountain Dew and looked over at you, her eyebrow raised. 

You gave her a nervous smile and mouthed “read the note.” 

She rolled her eyes but did as she was told, picking up the paper and then sitting down. 

Regina read: 

“I noticed smuggled Mountain Dews in your bedroom minifridge last time I was there, I assume you don’t usually get to indulge… peace offering? 

I’m sorry. I haven’t handled this right. Can we talk after class, please?” 

Regina tapped her nails on the side of the can and then glanced back over to you with a gentle smile. She nodded and mouthed back, “thank you.” 

Your knee bounced anxiously throughout the entire chem lecture. Once dismissed, you filed out of the classroom and found Regina waiting for you across the hall. 

“You’re fueling a bad habit, you know.” The blonde quipped. 

You smiled and nodded, but had a hard time meeting her eyes. You looked at the floor instead. 

“Hey,” Regina spoke softly, “I’m not going to bite.” 

You finally looked up at her, “I said things to you that I regret, I shouldn’t-“ 

“Are you seriously apologizing to me right now? I should be the one apologizing.” 

“You? Why?” 

Regina scoffed, “for everything that I did. For freaking out. For dragging you out of my house. And… for this…” 

You just stood there and gave her a confused expression. 

Regina sighed and looked down at her hands as she whispered, “I’m sorry… I don’t think I can do this… I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have…” 

“Regina…” you instinctively stepped forward and reached for her hand but she pulled away from it. 

The blonde looked around the hall and saw curious eyes starting to fall on the both of you. 

You watched her hands begin to tremble before she clasped them together.  

“I can’t do this… please… please try to understand…” 

You looked around the hall, too. You saw the eyes of your classmates. Those scrutinizing eyes that had pegged you and Regina each as two completely different things before your ages even reached double digits. Eyes that belonged to people who decided that Regina would always be one way, and you would always be another. 

You took a deep breath in and looked at the blonde again, “I… I understand, Regina.” 

The blonde swallowed a pained sound in her throat and almost reached for you. Almost. She managed to choke out, “what can I do?” She was shaking and her eyes were watering. It broke you. 

You started to cry openly, letting the tears fall freely, and you shrugged, “I dunno, Gina… I just… I hope you take care of yourself, ‘kay?” You started to turn to walk away. You didn’t want Regina, or the entire school, to see you cry. You didn’t want to be in this for any longer. You didn’t want Regina George to have any more of a hold on you than she already did. 

“Wait!” 

You heard the blonde call out after you but you were already pushing the door to the exterior open. 

“Wait!” She called out again but the rain was drowning everything besides your own heartbeat out now. 

You didn’t stop until a hand closed around your wrist and halted you. 

Regina. She was there. Standing out in the rain with you. She grasped your wrist while rain drenched her perfect hair and began to melt her perfect makeup and wet her perfect clothes. 

Your classmates were pressed up against glass windows, watching like vultures while Regina George chased someone outside. 

You just stared at her. 

Regina sobbed and then laughed hysterically and shook her head, “I’ve been such a fucking idiot!” 

You continued to stare. You didn’t know what else to do with Regina holding your wrist and apparently losing it. 

She shook her head again, “you can’t just walk away… you can’t let me ruin this because you think it’s the noble thing to do… you should… you should be selfish…” 

“What are you saying?” 

Regina stepped a hair closer to you and lifted her free hand up, gently cradling your cheek in her palm, “I almost threw away the only person who’s actually given a shit about me… because I was scared… and you would have let it happen because you thought it’s what I wanted… because you’re too sweet for your own good… and because… I’m a liar… and I have spent… so long… caring about what other people think of me… I’m exhausted… I’m exhausted and I don’t care anymore… the only thing I want is to kiss you… please… please let me kiss you…” 

You slowly pulled your wrist out of her grasp, but not to pull away from her. You grabbed Regina George’s face in your hands and pulled her in and pressed your lips to hers. 

More importantly, Regina George wrapped her arms around you and kissed you back.

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 13 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warning(s): derogatory slurs! several of them!

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 12 / chapter 14

It was Friday. The last day of school, the night of the talent show, and just a few days before Christmas. They'd be passing out the candy cane-grams. There'd be some assembly, probably.

Your leg jittered restlessly while you tried to focus on your bio paper. What kind of sadistic fuck assigned an essay on the last day before break? The biology teacher, apparently. He had a superiority complex, you were sure. Allergic to happiness.

Your mind kept drifting back to the photo album. Surely, Regina had it. You'd put it in her locker on Wednesday, so she'd have found it first thing Thursday morning. You hadn't dared to take a peek in her locker, afraid Gretchen would sniff you out again.

Something had clearly gone down between them. Gretchen didn't sit with them at lunch, instead opting for her boyfriend's clique. She didn't seem to fit in too well and Jason didn't seem too pleased to have her there. Karen and Regina sat by themselves, conversing casually.

Cady had been banished somewhere. You'd heard talk Aaron had dumped her. You knew Janis and Damien weren't talking to her after she turned her back on them. Since the whole Kälteen bar shebang and the subsequent smear campaign Regina had doled out, she hadn't been exactly welcome at any table. From what you understood, Gretchen and Cady were on speaking terms, but Karen and Gretchen weren't, but Cady and Karen were. It was all terribly confusing.

You had a table for yourself. Some of your old friends crowded the ones nearby, quite pointedly not sitting with you. You were no longer cool, it seemed. Easier to focus on your paper, you told yourself. The cafeteria was serving chilli today. The slop was slightly too watery and the meat was a mystery, but it'd do. You'd run out of food at home. You'd wanted a goddamn Christmas dinner and a good slab of ham got pricy. Couldn't rely on Mrs George for a feast this time around.

"Hey," Someone called near you. You looked up, surprised somebody was talking to you. A boy, more specifically a jock judging by the varsity jacket. "You good?"

"What?" Your brows furrowed. "Yeah?"

He smiled smarmily. "Cool."

And he walked away. You kept looking as he went, staring after his back. His buddies were looking your way, the same kinds of grins on their faces. That was odd. Didn't bode well.

It didn't take long for you to find out why. The period following lunch was when Damien would be visiting classrooms as Santa Claus, handing out candy canes.

He walked right up to you with a grin hidden under the fake Santa beard, wiggling his eyebrows all the while.

"The whole bag..." He drawled. "Impressive."

Confused, you peered into the sack. A couple dozen candy canes filled it, apparently all for you. You picked one out, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach as well as the snickering of the boys in the back rows.

Dyke. The message was just one word. It was clearly assigned to you, your whole name displayed proudly. Your body went numb, hands holding the candy limply. There was no signature to show who they were from. People were staring at you. Damien had lingered awhile to see what'd been written to you. The grin behind his beard had turned into a shocked scowl.

"What... What do they say?" Cady, of all people, the nerve of her, asked. She was seated a few rows from you.

"Alright, Mr Leigh, thanks for-" Ms Norbury tried to intervene.

"Dyke." You read out loud. Then you pulled out another. "Lesbo." And another. "Carpet muncher." The boys had trouble holding in their laughs. Another. "Queer." There were others you didn't deign to read out loud. Freak. Pervert. Degenerate. Homo.

If not for a few people finding all this amusing, it would've been dead silent in the classroom.

"These were supposed to be checked before handing out." Ms Norbury strode up to you and promptly confiscated the candies. Her face was set, expression severe, as she regarded Damien sternly.

"I- that wasn't my job. I don't know how, how they would've..." You watched Damien try to put it together.

"Well, is it really offensive if it's true?" Dylan, if you remembered correctly, piped up. He was a sporty guy, decently popular but nothing special. Now, though, he might as well have been an A-lister with how utterly low you'd plummeted.

Murmurs spread out around you. Damien and Ms Norbury retreated to a corner of the classroom to figure out how in the hell this had happened. People were looking at you. Your skin was crawling. It couldn't be Janis who told. She was in the same boat as you and she didn't have the power to do something like this. To make the committee ignore hateful messages meant some strings had been pulled. The only other person that knew, that could realistically do this, was Regina.

You bit your lip, closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Okay. You got the message. The album had been too much. This was a sign to stay away, to forget all the sentimentalities you'd had.

"Hey, calm down now, we'll figure this out- hey!" You didn't pause to listen to Ms Norbury when you booked it out of the stifling classroom. You couldn't bear to be there any longer.

You hid in the bathroom. Both hands held against your mouth so you wouldn't make a noise, you cried long and hard. Your breathing was choppy and laboured, and in no time at all your nose was blocked off entirely. Your eyes stung and your vision blurred.

The bell rang and pretty soon people came into the bathroom. You refused to get out, pretending to take the longest shit ever. It didn't take very long for the people coming in to discuss what had gone down in one of the junior calc classes.

It spread like wildfire. You were pretty sure the boys had nicked some of the candy canes from Ms Norbury since you could hear people reading the notes out loud, the rustling of the plastic covering.

"Who even is that?"

"Who cares? A total freak is what she is. Oh my gosh, Steph, do you think..."

"What?"

"Do you think she used the girls' bathroom? She's probably spread her diseases all over the seats! We're all gonna have gonorrhoea!"

You wanted to sink into the ground and never see daylight again. By the time the bell rang again, signalling the start of the next period, the rumours had inflated and grown disproportionately in severity.

Apparently, you were riddled with sexually transmitted diseases, preyed on freshmen and sold them hard drugs, behaved creepily in locker rooms, and had had a stint with Cady Heron while she was still with Aaron Samuels. You guessed that last one had to do with the time you'd dragged her into the janitor's closet to yell at her about the Kälteen bars.

In short, you were fucked. Your life was fucked. You'd hoped, so hoped, that even if you wouldn't get everything you wanted, you'd get some. You wouldn't get a high school girlfriend, wouldn't have slumber parties, wouldn't be normal. You wouldn't be Regina's friend. Fine. At least you could've had a quiet life, gone to community college and worked at the shop, had some buddies, and maybe lost your virginity one day. Not even that now. Not even a little bit of that. Your future in this town was just no longer there. You had nothing. You were nothing.

You skulked out of the bathroom once you were sure there'd be nobody in the halls. You got into your car and drove home. Just as you'd slumped down onto the couch, the house phone rang. Groaning, you went to answer. If it was your dad, missing it would mean there'd be hell to pay.

"Hello?" Your voice was croaky. It hurt to talk.

"Hi, sweetie! You don't sound too good." Mrs George's chirp greeted you. "I assume you had to leave school 'cause of that. I just happened to see you drive by. Rick got called to work last minute and Kylie's got tutoring till late. Come keep me company?"

"I'm not feeling too well, I'm sorry..." You said, holding the phone to your ear while your other arm wrapped around your body. You tried to breathe deep and not burst out crying, again. Your eyes felt swollen shut.

"Oh, I'll come by with some soup, then," She sounded so genuinely concerned.

You bit your lip. Tummy rumbling in its emptiness, you decided now would be as good of a time as any to bite the bullet.

"Actually, uh, if it's not too much to ask, and um- I-" You took in a shuddering breath. "You don't have to say yes, it's totally okay and I'm sorry if this is, like, too much-"

"Sweetpea, just ask." She chuckled.

"I don't have any food. Or, like, I have ingredients for Christmas 'cause I wanted to make dinner for myself, but I guess I forgot I have to eat before then too?" You tried to laugh, but the sound was strained. "Um, could you take me to the soup kitchen downtown?"

You could've driven yourself. You could've, in that you were capable of driving yourself, but with how your vision was impaired, how your body ached with loneliness, and how you weren't sure you wouldn't just impulsively drive into oncoming traffic, you doubted you would've survived the trip.

"No." She said bluntly. You flinched, feeling the refusal like a knife to the gut. "No, absolutely not. We are going grocery shopping and getting you food to last the rest of the damn year. I'm picking you up."

"Mrs George, I don't have money-"

"You shouldn't be spending your hard-earned money like that. Doesn't your dad send you enough to cover utilities?"

"He sends me grocery money. I gotta pay for gas and stuff on my own."

Mrs George's resounding silence spoke volumes of her opinion on that. "I'm coming to get you. I'm buying you groceries and then we're gonna meal prep. Okay?"

"Okay."

When Mrs George saw you, her determined attitude shifted to that of maternal worry. You fought hard not to break down, though all you really wanted to do was curl into her and cry your little heart out.

She drove you to Whole Foods, a place way out of your budget. But she insisted, so there was little you could do. She took you from aisle to aisle, prattling on and on, chatting about this and that. You listened mostly silently, humming here and there.

She picked out a lot of canned stuff, like beans and tomato purée. All that stuff was made to last forever, so you wouldn't always have to buy fresh ingredients. She bought all your favourite snacks, which she somehow remembered. When you commented on that, she just pointed at her temple with a knowing grin. Mothers never forget, she'd said.

Once you were all done, the cart was quite literally overflowing. The total nearly made your stomach drop out of your ass. Mrs Geoge simply flashed her black card and, without even a wince, paid the price. The receipt was, like, three feet long.

Carrying it all to her car was a daunting task, but a worker did come to help you. A young man, probably home from college, was all too eager to carry the bags for Mrs George.

The way he was blushing all the way up to his ears, the way she was amused by him but not receptive, made you think about what Regina had said months ago. You'd been on your way to her nail appointment and she'd gone on a tangent about how women died at menopause.

Mrs George was thriving. She was above it all. Her worth, or mortality, wasn't determined by the men around her. She'd been cheated on, continuously neglected by her husband, and put down by her teenage daughter, and still, she was beautiful. She existed independently.

In short, you were right and Regina was wrong. You saw things how they really were. She saw things tilted to the left, through a warped lens. The confirming of this brought you no comfort, she'd already ruined you and there was no redeeming herself after this, at least not for you.

"Phew, what a trip, right?" She nudged you with her elbow as she buckled her seatbelt.

You nodded along, voice still weak. You buckled in as well.

"I'll pick you up for the talent show." She said as she turned away from the parking lot. "Oooh, we should have a night in. Order some pizzas and slob around the couch. How's that sound?"

"I don't think I should go to the talent show."

"Oh, why's that?"

"Just... Something happened at school. I don't wanna go."

Mrs George frowned and glanced at you. "Honey, you know you can tell me anything. I still think you should come."

"Everybody hates me." You faced the window and crossed your arms. Very mature.

"I'm sure that's not true." She sighed. "I'm not supposed to tell you, but Regina's got something prepared for you. I think you should go see her at least."

Your face twisted in anger. "Something prepared for me- like she prepared something for me today? I don't fucking think so."

"Language." She said and you grumbled. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing. It's nothing." You rubbed your hands down your jeans. "It's not gonna be good. She's gonna humiliate me."

"It's supposed to be a surprise, but I can guarantee that she's not going to humiliate you."

"What do you know?" You turned to her with narrowed eyes.

"I've been hearing her practice, is all." She responded, tone much too light.

You studied her face carefully. "Fine."

She smiled, seemingly relieved. Then, as if to cut the tension in the car, said:

"Oh, and by the way, I'm filing for divorce." With a giddy smile on her face, she blurted it out. You just stared for a while, almost suffering whiplash from the sudden change in topic.

"Uh... Finally." You laughed a little as you said that.

"Yeah!" She laughed with you. "It's been a long time coming. I just needed to sort some things out. Emotionally and financially. I had to get rid of some investments so I wouldn't have to pay alimony."

Your jaw dropped. The Georges were, like, filthy rich. Rich beyond reason, excess income to a ridiculous degree. You'd always assumed it was Mr George's money. How archaic of you.

"I... I kinda wished you'd done it sooner." You looked forward again. She was driving carefully since the snow made the roads prone to ice.

"Me too. The girls... They... I thought that having two parents would be the most stable, safe environment for them. I was wrong."

"Yeah." You swallowed. "Um. Since we're, like, just saying things. I'm, by the way, gay. Like, a lesbian."

"That's wonderful, honey!"

"Yeah." You couldn't say you agreed.

"Should we go get you a haircut?"

"I don't need to look any more butch than I do."

"I don't know, I think you'd look dashing." She feigned light-hearted. "Regina might like it."

"Mrs George!"

Notes: More drama! Yay! Do y'all think Regina did it?

Taglist posted separately. Please comment on the taglist post to be added on there :)

[il-predestinato]

hello beautiful elle

since it is going to be a long 3 months without our boys could you please recommend some fics that you liked? cause i really like your writings and how realistic they are and i wanted to get some of you suggestions for the break!

love you loads

Thank you, lovely anon, for your very kind message! 🥺 I must admit I have fallen behind in reading fics. I am sure I am forgetting some excellent Lestappen fics/writers, but these are some of my all-time favourites!

Lestappen Fic Recs:

And in the end I will seek you out amongst the stars by mandzilkos (@geeeooorrrge) - rating: G, 22k words

Soulmate AU where you see in black and white until you meet your soulmate, and the world goes back to black and white after your soulmate dies. This is ALWAYS the first Lestappen fic that comes to mind whenever anyone asks for a recommendation, and it is probably my all-time favourite. The fic that inspired me to write Lestappen, if I'm honest.

getting half of you just ain't enough by shybear_styles - rating: E, 20k words

The friends with benefits story that spans the 2019 season. The only thing better than amazing smut is amazing smut with feels. For sure a top 5 fic in the Lestappen fandom for me. Also, this author is simply amazing in general and you should read all of her fics! I haven't given up hope that she will return one day and write more Lestappen. 🤧

you feel the mornin' feel by shybear_styles - rating: M, 3.3k words

Remember that time Sebastian Vettel asked Charles, "Is he [Max] pretty?" And we never got an answer because Charles descended into gay panic? Well, worry not! We get an answer in this fic.

Monaco Malaise by ProngsfootxJily (@cupidskissx) - rating: E, 8k words

Rivals with benefits, takes place after the 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Yes, this one is delicious smut but also a character study. Both of them are written so well, and it leaves you begging for more. Don't forget to check out the equally amazing sequel! (Don't worry, I have been relentlessly harassing her to write the sequel's sequel.)

algorithm by Anney (@badboy-george) - rating: M, 17k words

In a world where F1 uses simulation-based compatibility tests, five times Max doesn't find the right partner and the one time he does. Black Mirror ("San Junipero" and "Hang the DJ") vibes in the best way. Another one of my absolute favourite fics. If you've read any Lestappen fics, you've probably read "Every Other Sunday." This one is simply a masterpiece by the immensely talented Anney; definitely check out her other fics!

panem et circenses by Anney - rating: E, 13.2k words

Wow - simply devastating, haunting, an ode to these two as drivers, set in a dystopian future AU. The world building is absolutely incredible, but at its heart is such a beautiful story of love and hope. This one doesn't get enough recognition. (TW: implied non-con, not between Lestappen.)

Unlearn by wantinghopingwriting (Tazza1993) (@lightsoutfullhearts) - NR, 45k words

This is another all-time favourite, a must-read. Fake/pretend relationship to lovers multi-chapter story that is ever so satisfying; both of them are so well characterized. Set in a parallel-ish 2022 season. I really cannot recommend this one enough.

the edge of what can be loved by Ledger_m (@the-last-jedis) - rating: T, 13k words

The third wheel fic from the perspective of Max and Charles' various "Steves." It's funny, heartwarming, and everyone on the grid is nosy as fuck.

Charles Leclerc vs Red Bull caps by Ledger_m - rating: T, 6.4k words

Charles is the hero we all need, as he goes on a mission to get rid of all of Max's stupid Red Bull caps. This is REQUIRED reading! Kami is a genius. Go read all of her fics.

If You Don't Play, You'll Never Win by antimonyandthyme (@antimonyandthyme) - rating: T, 4.1k

Post 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Max wants to take their relationship further; Charles... doesn't. Oh my God, where do I begin to describe how much I love this fic. The language is beautiful, both of them are so well-written, and I feel punched in the gut over and over again in the best way. The ending (well, the whole thing) is so damn satisfying.

all's well that ends well (to end up with you) by stylestappen (@stylestappen) - rating: G, 3k words

Max has a meltdown in the cereal aisle (yes, the cereal aisle) at 3 am when he realizes he is in love with Charles despite the latter's questionable taste in cereal. Dani has an absolutely wicked sense of humour! (Although I don't understand what she has against cocoa puffs 😭.) She also wrote a banger of a Lestappen soon-to-be teammates fic, so make sure to check out her profile.

Max Verstappen: Spotify Extraordinaire by frnndtorres - rating: G, 26k words

Max makes Spotify playlists for the grid. Fluffy, funny, care-free, liberal use of nicknames, with a healthy dose of feels between Max and Charles. A really fun read.

i love the way your green eyes mix with that malibu indigo by altissimozucca (@altisssimozucca) - rating: G, 11k words

Max and Charles spend summer of 2020 together in Malibu and try not to fall in love. Spoiler alert: they fall in love. I feel the urge to explain something: When I first started reading Lestappen, there were less than 250 fics in their entire tag (yeah I know, we are currently close to 3000 fics, which is insane). From 2019-2021, we truly lived off crumbs. So trust me when I say that we owe so much to altissimozucca, who wrote something like 40% of the fics in the Lestappen tag and nearly single-handedly kept us fed in those days. It's so hard to pick one of her fics to recommend, so make sure you check out her profile for more!

#803442 by altissimozucca - rating: M, 1k words

Max and Charles celebrate the end of the 2019 season in a hotel room. So soft, so fluffy, so satisfying.

Bruises by eefiplier - rating: E, 5.1k words

I think of this one as THE Lestappen smut fic. Oh my God, it's 5k words of amazing established relationship smut with all the feels. A classic. I can read this one over and over again.

outside the box by playclock (@endowataru) - rating: M, 6.1k words

Max falls in love with Charles' driving... oh and Charles himself too. They are ultra competitive idiots who are madly in love. There aren't enough established relationship fics out there, but this one is simply amazing. And don't forget to check out this author's profile for additional Lestappen fics. I promise every single one is a banger!

i made it link by link by purpleglasseswrites (@f-ferrari-forever) - rating: M, 4.2k words

Charles and Max try to be kinky, but who are they kidding - they are far too vanilla for that stuff. 🤣 This one is so sweet, and don't forget to read the sequel!

One man's trash, another man's treasure by AzziNow (@track-terror-apologist) - rating: T, 4.2k words

Charles turns into a raccoon and terrorizes everyone except Max. (Well, he terrorizes Max too... slightly.)

Call it madness, call it love… by AzziNow - rating: M, 3.5k words

Ferrari auctions off Charles for charity. No angst, just fluff. Alpha!Max/Alpha!Charles. So I confess that I never read A/B/O fics. There's nothing wrong with it - just not my cup of tea. But I really enjoyed this one. Al has such a chaotic sense of humour.

it all reminds me of you by grandprix (@grandprix-ao3) - rating: E, 3k words

Secret relationship Lestappen with flashbacks. Oh the yearning, the desire, the smut - incredibly satisfying. I must put a plug-in for this author's other Lestappen fics as well. Never misses - make sure to check them out!

burning you into my mind by thightattoos - rating: E, 4.1k words

Porn with feels and possessiveness. You cannot ask for anything more. I must have read this one a dozen times.

an evil plan or two by witchee_writer - rating: T, 5.2k words

Max and Charles are roped into a plan to get Brocedes back together; they come to a few realizations along the way. The only thing better than a Lestappen fic? A Lestappen AND Brocedes fic!

Fine Line by empireoffclouds - rating: NR, 7k words

One of the more light-hearted enemies to friends to lovers fics. I absolutely adore their dynamic here - it's snarky, warm, but also so them. The incomplete sequel is also a super fun read.

Into Darkness Of Thought by flamingosarepink - rating: T, 1k words

After the 2019 Japanese Grand Prix, Charles thinks Max isn't coming back to their shared space.

steal softly under castle walls by untouchableocean - rating: G, 521 words

Max gets home late from Milton Keynes and Charles has already fallen asleep. Short, tooth-rooting fluff of the best kind.

Zoomies by greeny1710 (@maxlambiase) - rating: E, 2.2k words

This one is just hilarious. A (mostly) naked Max walks into Charles' team Zoom call during the COVID lockdown.

...and many, many more that I'm sure I have forgotten! 🙈 You can also check out my AO3 bookmarks (the first few pages are pretty much all Lestappen fics).

Please remember to leave kudos and comments for these amazing writers. The talent in this fandom is absolutely incredible. They all deserve so much recognition. Happy reading!

[kmt123whatsthetea]

No books for a prankster

George Weasley x reader

Requested by: @adinamayb2

Request gist: “5 foot Ravenclaw bookworm and George have hardcore sex”

A/N: Thank you for the request! For this fic, I decided that George would try to take the reader's mind off of books because he's jealous, if that makes sense (it will make sense when read). I don't know why it's taken me longer than usual to write fanfics (I think I'm just going mad yk). Two book related fanfics one after the other, I hope you guys like books lol.

T/W: Unprotected sex, Hardcore sex, Very jealous George, mentions of bondage (but no bondage), Teasing, Underwear gag, Creampie

George hated books.

Sure he didn't mind reading every now and again, but when those books took his girlfriend’s attention off of him, he hated them. When he suggested a date, it was always “Just another chapter, Georgie, I promise” or “This new book I got is so good, let me tell you all about it”.

George was happy that you had a reading hobby, but he missed your attention. Sometimes he felt guilty for being jealous of your books, until that horny little devil on his shoulder reminded him that the more you read, the less time you were in his bed.

He could feel his patience slipping every time he saw you with a book. He missed those days where he would sneak into the Ravenclaw common room and kidnap you for a date without having to worry about you losing your page in your newest reading material (he knew he was being dramatic, but he could help it).

One evening, he snuck into the Ravenclaw common room and found you sitting in front of the fire with your nose stuck in a book. He edged his way closer until he was sitting on the sofa next to you.

“Reading again, love?”

You were, but his breath on the shell of your ear made it difficult to move on to the next word.

“Georgie, you know I like reading. What are you doing here so late anyway?”

“I missed my favourite girl. I sleep better when i'm next to you…or inside you”

You turned your attention back to your book, hiding your blush within the pages. George adjusted so that he was laying down, his head on your lap. His eyes travelled up your chest and to your eyes, which were still avoiding his.

“I came all this way to see you, baby, are you just gonna ignore me?”

His teasing pout, like the one he was wearing at that very moment, could either be very cute or very. George took matters into his own hands and took the book from you. He stood up from the sofa and put the book down before reaching his hands out to you.

When your hot, horny boyfriend offers you his hand, would you really decline it?

You take his hand and let him pull you up, his tall frame towering over you. Dating a boy who was a good foot taller than you came with serious advantages. If you wanted a book from a high shelf, all you'd have to do is ask. If he was tired, he could easily lean his head on yours like a boney pillow.

George pulled you up to your dorm room, having familiarised himself with the route from his countless visits. Once you were both inside and the door was shut, you were his.

His hands pulled at your school shirt, grunting when you reminded him not to break the buttons again. When he managed to strip you down to your underwear, he picked you up in his arms before quite literally throwing you onto the bed.

He pulled his own shirt over his head before moving his hands to his belt. His eyes stayed on yours, a predatory grin painted on his face.

“You waste all your attention on those silly books. They can’t make you feel as good as I can, baby”

George pushed your legs apart and got in between them. He brought his hand down to rub your clit through your underwear. With every moan and squirm, his smile grew wider. His other hand presses on your stomach, stopping you from squirming anymore.

When you kept squirming, he brought his hand down on your thigh in a sharp slap.

“If you keep squirming, I’ll tie your hands to the bed posts. Are you gonna be a good girl and stop squirming?”

“I’ll be good Georgie, I promise”

He gave out a satisfied grunt and pulled your underwear down your legs. George pushed his boxers down enough to pull out his cock. He pushed his tip against your clit, smearing his precum on the throbbing bundle of nerves.

George pushed his tip in before pulling back out. He always enjoyed teasing you.

“On second thought, maybe I should leave you with your books”

He grinned when you whined. It's not like he would just leave you high and dry now, he loved being inside of you too much.

“Please Georgie, I don’t want those books, I want you”

George loved hearing how much you loved and needed him (even if he did use teasing as a leverage to hear it). He thrust his cock inside you fully, his hand covering your mouth when you let out a scream in pleasure.

Instead of removing his hand, he looked down at your underwear on the mattress next to your thigh and got an evil idea. He picked the discarded underwear up and removed his hand from your mouth.

“Open up, baby”

You opened your mouth obediently for George, letting him push the fabric into your mouth. When he knew that no sounds would slip past the fashioned gag, he pulled out and rammed his cock back in. His hips slammed against yours with each thrust, marking your skin red.

His hands gripped your ankles, pushing them up against your chest and folding you into a mating press. His thrusts didn’t relent, pounding into you with an animalistic passion.

His fingers came down to pinch your clit, rubbing it in messy circles.

“Does my baby wanna cum all over my cock?”

The gag muffled your pleas. The most you could do was nod like a woman possessed.

“Alright then baby, make a mess on my cock and I’ll cover that sweet little pussy in my cum”

That bad snapped, and you came hard on his cock. Spots filled your vision and your screams somehow surpassed the fabric gagging your mouth.

“Such a good girl for me, looking so pretty with my cock deep inside you”

George pulls his cock out, pumping it with his fist. After a couple more pumps, his cum sprayed over your swollen folds. He moved his hips a little closer, his tip dragging along your mound and leaving a sticky trail.

His hand reached towards your mouth, pulling the crumpled underwear from your mouth. His other hand came to cradle your cheek, a tender touch after a hot and heavy session.

“You always do so well for me, my pretty baby”

[myboipotterimagines]

Golden Pt. 5 - Weasley Twins x Reader

Hi everyone! Thank you for all the support on the last few chapters. I have really enjoyed writing this fanfic, and I hope y'all like reading it. This is probably my favorite one yet. Enjoy!

Again, 18+, minors dni. Love you all. <3

Other parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

George had decided that he would, in fact, be joining you in Hogsmeade. He wasted no time in getting ready, clearly not wanting to leave you alone with his twin for any longer. For someone who didn't care about you, he sure was fucking jealous.

Leaving the shop hit you with the truth of reality like a brick to the chest. Diagon Alley was desolate and destroyed, the shop one of the only businesses still in operation. You clung to Fred. "He's growing stronger, isn't he?" you asked, though even you knew it wasn't a question so much as a statement. Fred leaned down to kiss your temple. "I'm afraid so. But nothing will happen to you while you're with us." "With Fred, at least," George smirked, moving to the front of the charge. "I'm more of an every man for himself type of guy." Fred rolled his eyes. "Ignore him." He laced his fingers into yours and for a moment, your heart stopped beating. A coy smile took its place on your lips as you looked up to find a matching one on his.

"So what all do we need in Hogsmeade?" you finally asked as you walked to the edge of Diagon Alley. A group of wizards had set up an anti-apparition barrier within the streets of the town, hoping to increase its protection against Dark Magic. The borders were patrolled, which did a little to ease your anxiety.

"As much as I love seeing you in my clothes, I think it's time you get some of your own," Fred laughs, his words bringing a blush to your cheeks. "I have also decided to turn our office into a temporary bedroom for you, until you feel more comfortable in ours."

Your heart jumped again. Every so often, ,you would forget that these two were your soulmates, not just a new relationship. Eventually you would all share a bedroom, and a bed, and a life. Your future was as intertwined as your fingers. George finally looked back at the two of you, glancing for only a moment at your hands, then back ahead of him.

"We're at the edge," he said firmly. "I'll apparate us." He reached out one hand to his brother, then one to you. The same pulse of energy ran through you as you touched. You were completely wrapped around the finger of the two, and unsure if it was exciting or terrifying.

The village of Hogsmeade was still as beautiful as it had always been. Since it was an inhabited city of wizards, it was harder to vandalize unnoticed.

"I'll go get the bedroom furniture," George said, immediately dropping your hand. He was gone before anyone could protest. Fred barely noticed, taking a moment to pull you into him, kissing your forehead lightly. "Let's go get you some clothes, love."

Fred made sure you had clothes for every occasion, but your eyes always drifted to the dresses on the racks. He insisted that you needed every one you tried on, eyes raking your body with each new fabric. He even went so far as to outfit you with a slinky silk nightdress that he had adored. If it hadn't fallen slightly past your bum, he would've insisted you go home in it. Instead, he picked out a soft red sundress for you to wear the rest of the day. By the time you were finished, Fred's hands were full of bags, and George was waiting outside.

"Did the princess do some damage in there?" George asked with a smirk. Your own face dropped at his use of your nickname - the one he had only used as his hands had fucked you. "She wouldn't have needed so much if we hadn't basically kidnapped her," Fred laughed. "Where's all the shit you were supposed to get?" "Delivered and assembled," he smiled. "I go above and beyond, dear brother." Fred rolled his eyes. "Let me drop this off and we can grab dinner at the Three Broomsticks. Could you two get us a table without killing each other?" You smiled. "I think we can manage." You placed a kiss on Fred's cheek before he apparated away.

"How long are you going to wait to tell him that I've been inside of you?" You groaned. "I don't know, George. You'll be happy to know you've put me in quite the fucking predicament. So I'm sure you're bloody elated." "He can't be too mad, considering you're fucking him, too." All of the color drained from your face as you stopped in your tracks. You took a moment to regain your composure. "I am. He's my soulmate and he's fucking nice to me." You took a step closer to George. "I would do anything for him." George took a step closer to you, closing the distance between you, before leaning down to whisper in your ear. "I didn't even have to be nice to get you to open your legs." You spun to slap him, but he caught your hand, holding it tightly within his grasp. "No need for violence, princess. Unless that's what you like."

Upon arriving at the Three Broomsticks, the two of you took a booth at the back of the restaurant, George slipping in beside of you. "You really have to sit next to me?" you asked. "Unfortunately. The only thing worse than sitting next to you is sitting across from you and having to look into your eyes the whole evening. I'll leave Fred that torture." "Fred actually likes me, George. Even though you seem hellbent on stopping him from doing so." "It takes two to tango, sweetheart. You know as well as I do that you wanted last night to happen. Probably can't wait for it to happen again." "You're the one who came onto me. You wanted it as much as I did."

George shifted in his seat to look you straight in the eye. As he did, he snaked his hand under your dress and up the middle of your thighs, only stopping at your core. You squirmed from his touch, but his thumb found its way to your clit and his index to your already soaking entrance. He leaned in to your ear, using his free hand to push back your hair. "Like I said, seems like you can't wait for it to happen again." You pushed him off of you, face only reddening as he took his fingers into his mouth to clean them off. "Mm, sweet as honey, princess."

"What is?" Fred asked, sliding across from the two of you. "George what the hell did you do to her?" he added upon seeing your reddened face. "I didn't do anything, Freddie. The poor thing is just embarrassed she's never had Butterbeer." "Never?" Fred asked. You shook your head - a lie, but it would do. "Didn't think I'd like it."

Fred immediately jumped into action, ordering a round of Butterbeer to go with your meals. Hopefully you feigned surprise well when you tasted it for the 'first time'. Fred seemed to buy it, at least. George tried to ignore you the entire evening.

He was successful until you arrived home. "Let me show you your bedroom," he called, not checking to see if you were following before he started walking away. Your bedroom was on the first floor of the shop, nestled cozily in the back. Though the room wasn't very big, George had managed to fit a bed, dresser, and desk into the space. Fred had already spelled your clothes away, filling in the new dresser. "This is incredible. Thank -" you turned to thank George, but he was already gone. Your blood grew hot - he was not going to humiliate you and then ignore you for the rest of the evening. He was going to fucking pay.

At the very top of one of your drawers held the black silk dress. You quickly stripped into nothing but the nightdress, letting your hair fall loose on your shoulders to accompany it. It was beautiful, and you needed to thank Fred for getting it for you.

You didn't bother with a robe or slippers as you ascended the staircase to the twins' room. You knocked on the already opened doorframe, grabbing the attention of Fred first. "Holy shit," he murmured, taking in your body like he was seeing it for the first time. You entered their room, noting George's agape mouth as you moved. "I just wanted to thank you both for putting my room together. I'm the luckiest girl on the planet to have you," you said, smiling at Fred.

"I'm the lucky one," Fred murmured, fingers slipping up and down your frame. "You're so fucking beautiful." You kissed him tenderly, heart melting at his words. "I love you, Fred," you whispered, words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

George pulled the two of you apart. "All right, get the fuck out of here and go to bed." "What the fuck, George?" Fred asked. "She's clearly drunk, Fred! She needs to go the fuck to bed." "No, I'm not!" you protested. "I had like two Butterbeers." "Apparently, you're a lightweight, then." You looked at Fred to back you up, but his face was downturned. "Your face is super flushed, love. Maybe you should get some rest." "I'll make sure she gets downstairs, then she's on her own. Tomorrow is a big day for all of us and I need a fucking shower." "Goodnight, love," Fred called. "Goodnight, Fred," you frowned. "I do love you." His expression didn't change.

As soon as you were in your room, George locked the door behind you and cast a silencing spell on the room. "I am not drunk, George. What the hell is wrong with you?" "What the hell is wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with you? You clearly came up there to try and seduce me. And then you tell Fred you fucking love him? He is not a tool to fucking abuse."

You threw a pillow at him, which he wordlessly deflected. "Not everything is about you!" you yell. "I do love him! More than anything," you voice quiets with each word. You draw in a shaky breath as you lower onto the bed.

George walks over to you, holding your chin in his hands. His eyes glare daggers into yours. "I don't believe you." Your gaze doesn't break. "I don't need you to." "I'll tell him. Everything." "And what is 'everything', exactly? That you fingered me? That you want to fuck me? That you need me as much as I need you?" His grip tightened, pulling you to your feet. "I do not need you. I don't even fucking want you."

In one swift motion, you reversed your spots, pushing George onto the bed. He stared up at you as you held your fingertips to his chest, holding him in place. "For someone who doesn't want me, you seem to spend a lot of time inside of me." He laughed. "Because you're fucking easy. It didn't even take a full day to get with you. It didn't take two before you were with both of us."

You pushed him back farther onto the bed, straddling him. "I think you're the easy one, Georgie. If I was so easy, I would've made you cum instead of your brother." "Fuck you," he snarls, grabbing a handful of your hair. "If you'd like," you retort, grinding your already wet cunt against him. He's clearly hard underneath of you, despite the layers of clothing separating him from you. "Fucking slut," he groans, wrapping an arm around your back to support your position. "I'll stop if you want me to," you repeat his own words back to him. "But I don't think you want me to."

"Fuck," he groaned. "I need you right fucking now." His nails dug through your slinky dress and into the skin underneath, pulling you as close to him as he could. "Thought you didn't want me, Georgie? Now you need me?" you mocked, slowing your hips to almost a stop. George brought his hands to your hips, moving you against him once more. Your core ignited, but you held your moans.

George did not hold his. His teeth sank into your neck, leaving bite marks and kisses from your hairline to your clavicle. When he bit into your earlobe, your first moan escaped your lips. "There you go, baby girl, let it out." His fingers moved from your waist to your cunt, tracing your entrance. "So wet for me already," he laughed. His lips returned to your ear. "Let me take care of you."

You slowed to a stop once more, taking in the labored breathing and flushed face of the man before you. "What happened to every man for himself?" You leaned into his neck, whispering in his ear. "I'm not letting someone fuck me who wouldn't protect me from a Death Eater."

His face grows hard as you stand from him. Before you can exit the room, he pulls you onto the bed, pinning your hands. On instinct, your legs kick at him with all your might, causing him to straddle you to restrain you. "You don't have to fuck me, princess. But, you will know that I would protect you with my last fucking breath. I would lay down my life to save yours. So you can go to Fred to satisfy your needs, but you will not go under the impression that I would ever betray you."

After a moment, he frees your hands, which immediately latch onto his shoulders and pull him into you. For the first time, your lips meet, starving for touch. George can't get close enough to you, holding you by the waist and hair, locking your body against his. You begin reaching for the seam of his jeans, but he grabs your wrists with one hand and holds them over your head, using the other to hold open your legs as he sinks into your pussy. A moan rips through you as he licks stripes up and down your core, taking particular interest in your clit. He moans as he devours you, eliciting another string of moans and curses from your lips.

You cry out when he pulls away, devastatingly close to orgasm. "You taste so good, baby girl, but I need to feel you cum on my cock. Do you want that?" You nod, but he shakes his head. "I need words, princess." "Yes, please." With a wave of his hand, the rest of his clothes were gone. Even though he had seen most of your body, you had seen none of his. You drank in the sight of him, memorizing every curve of his body like it was the last time you'd ever see it. He lined himself up at your entrance, the contact alone making you moan. "You ready?" he asks. "Please," you beg, your body aching for his.

He pushes in slow, a mixture of his moans and yours filling the room. "You feel so fucking good," he finally says once he's bottomed out. You smile up at him, too fucked to say any actual words. "So fucking beautiful with my cock in you, princess." He thrusts into you again, pulling moans from your mouth like a prayer. His pace quickens to a breakneck speed, bringing you right to the edge of orgasm once more. "I'm gonna-" you start, before a new wave of moans leave your lips as his thumb connects with your clit. "Cum, baby girl. Come for me."

Once again, his words send you over the edge, orgasm exploding through you like a bomb. Your moans turn into screams of his name as you ride out the orgasm. Your cunt spasms from the aftershock, drawing out George's orgasm, spilling himself into you. Without a word, he spells away his seed, leaving you empty of him. You groan at his absence, but he lays beside you and pulls you into his chest. You burrow deep into him, inhaling his scent. His fingers trail patterns on your back, leaving only goosebumps in their wake.

No one speaks for ages, and you were sure George was asleep before he whispers three words. "I love you."

Tears fill your eyes as guilt fills your heart. "I love you, too."

***

Okay, I hope you all love this chapter because I loved writing it!! We will unfortunately have some angst coming up, but I promise to make up for it with a ton of fluff! Let me know how you're liking the story so far and if you would like added to the taglist! I try to add everyone who asks, and I am very sorry if I forget anyone!

Taglist (sorry if I miss anyone): @rk-ceres @foji2000 @hazilyss, @f-e-222 @luthien-elvenia-asher @trashy-panda777 @rhunew @crossedskulls @shadowmoonlight0604 @mochiseni @jenniferpendragon @fonderaura @pyromaniac-fairy-of-water @theveiledlibrarian, @xmadigurlx, @maxsisly, @meg-cal, @ivseceret

[chaengluva]

Massive Deal [5]

Regina George x Fem!Reader: Words: 4.0k: Chapter Index

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As you hang up the phone, a pit forms in your stomach. The thought of going to Regina's Halloween party brings back memories of the embarrassment and humiliation from the last party. You start to dread Monday morning, knowing that you'll have to face Regina and her friends at school. The fear of reliving that same nightmare makes you wish you could just disappear.

The rest of the week ends. You try not to think about the party in a few weeks. You're just scared to go to school. Everyone knows you are lesbian. You just need to figure out who runs the account. You can't shake the feeling of being exposed and vulnerable, and the thought of facing Regina's clique only adds to your anxiety. 

You spend hours trying to piece together who could be behind the account but come up empty-handed. As the days pass, the dread of Monday is over you the whole weekend, you don't even get to enjoy it.

The morning arrives, and you hesitantly make your way to school, the burden of the secret Instagram account heavy on your mind. As you walk through the halls, you feel eyes on you and whispers following in your wake. The fear of being outed consumes you, making each step feel like a mile.

When you first walk into school, you feel everyone's eyes on you. You hide yourself and decide just to go straight to class.

In class, you try to focus on the lesson at hand, but your mind keeps drifting back to the mystery of who could be behind the account. Was it someone from Regina's clique? Or maybe someone you least expected? The uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

During lunchtime, you sit alone at a table in the corner, avoiding eye contact with anyone who passes by. You can't shake the feeling of being watched and judged for who you are. The anxiety builds within you like a storm ready to break.

After school ends, you head home with a heavy heart, dreading the next day when you'll have to face them again, and again, you have to avoid yourself from everyone.

You can't talk to Bella because of what she did, and she is sitting with Charlie and Jennie, so you can't sit with them either, so you just sit alone because Oliver hasn't been at school the last few days.

As the Halloween party approaches, the tension at school only seems to intensify. The stares and whispers from classmates make you feel even more isolated. With Bella's betrayal still fresh in your mind, you find yourself sitting alone at lunch, avoiding eye contact with anyone. The thought of facing everyone at the Halloween party fills you with dread, but you know you can't hide forever.

A large part of you doesn't want to go; another part just wants to go to see what all the hype was about. Also, Gretchen wasn't letting you stay home; she forced you to come. You were dressed as the devil, wearing a red satin dress with a black lace design. You also wore red devil horns to finish up the look.

When you walked inside Regina's large house, Gretchen dragged you away, leaving you alone. You sighed, walking around the house to get a drink.

You grab a drink and turn around, bumping into someone walking the other way. Your eyes go wide when you notice who is in front of you. It was her, the queen bee; she looks so good in her costume, and in some ways, you were matching.

She was wearing an angel costume, and you were wearing the devil, but if you were to think about personalities, it would be the other way around.

She looks down at you with hungry eyes, pushing past you to get herself a drink. You roll your eyes and walk somewhere else, talking with people along the way. You were leaning against the wall, holding your red solo cup, and a few boys decided to come up to you.

"You're really pretty." One of them said, You awkwardly laugh, hoping it would change the conversation, but it didn't. The other boy put his hand on your waist, and you started to feel very uncomfortable.

"Um, can you please let go?" You said, with an awkward tone, that the other guy puts his hand on your back and moves it down to grab your ass. You gasped, being speechless and not knowing what time it was. You quickly moved away from them and said, "I don't want to do this."

The two boys look at each other and laugh. One of the boys said, "We know you're a dyke." The other one nodded, saying, "We were just trying to make you normal again." You have been through this many times—so many times when the whole situation became normal to you—but it still hurts.

You turned around to leave, but a familiar voice came from behind you, making you turn around. "David, Carson." Regina said with bitterness as she moved to stand next to you, "I don't remember inviting you so the two of you can leave."

"Oh, we didn't mean—" They tried to come up with an excuse: "Save it! Leave." She snapped, and the boys quickly ran off. You were about to thank Regina, but she grabbed your hand and rushed you upstairs before you could.

She took you into her room, leaving you confused. (You weren't complaining, though.) She sat you down on her bed and looked at you up and down. "Your outfit is cool." She said, smiling, reapplying her lipstick. You nervously smile, feeling intimidated by the beautiful woman in front of you. "So, is it true?" Regina asks.

You give her a confused look, standing up, then asking, "Is what true?" She laughs, "Is it true that you're a lesbian?" You were taken back by the question; you knew that she follows the account and she already knows the answer so you weren't going to get away with lying so you take a deep breath and say, "Yes. It's true." 

Regina moved closer to you, grabbing your face and saying, "Perfect." She pulled you in for a kiss. Passionately moving her lips against yours, she shoves her tongue inside. After a while, she pulls away, and the biggest smile is on her face.

For a second, you thought, maybe you weren't delusional; maybe your crush actually liked you back, and you could start dating her and happily tell all your friends, thinking this, you say. "Wow, that was." You begin to talk, but Regina cuts you off.

"Pathetic, you're fucking pathetic." Regina said, giggling. You couldn't help but let the tears fall through. You felt so embarrassed and ashamed. You rushed downstairs, and you pushed past Gretchen, who looked concerned.

You called a taxi and decided you didn't feel like going home; you just wanted to go to a club. You took your devil horns off so your outfit seemed more suitable for a club. You walked in, deciding to order a cocktail. You put your hands in your face, feeling abandoned and broken by what Regina George did to you.

You felt someone sit next to you. You turned to look at her, and she smiled at you, asking, "Rough night?" You sighed, nodding your head. She giggled. "What's your name?" You smile back at the girl, saying, "I'm Y/n. Y/n L/n, what's yours?"

"My name is Leighton, Leighton Murray."

You smile at the pretty blonde girl. Turning away to drink your drink, she reaches for you to touch your shoulder. You turn to look at her, and you make eye contact for a few seconds before she speaks up. "You're really pretty, you know." Leighton whispers, putting strands of hair behind your ears . Your heart flutters at her words, and you feel a rush of excitement. "Thank you," you reply, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. Leighton's smile widens, and you can't help but feel a strong connection to her in that moment.

"So, what brings you here?" You ask, looking the girl in the eyes. "Well, my dad decided to pick up this job last month; I had to move schools in my senior year." Leighon says, taking another sip of her drink. You frown, feeling slightly bad. "I'm sorry," you say. She shakes her head and giggles. "You don't need to be sorry, pretty girl." You feel yourself blushing at her words again.

Leighton's casual personality puts you at ease, and you find yourself opening up to her without hesitation. You end up talking for hours, you forget everything that happened that night, and you pull out your phone. You gasp when you realise it was past 4 a.m., you get up, say goodbye to the girl, and you leave the place.

When you got home, all the events of the party started flooding back to you, and you remembered the pain you had and what Regina George did to you. Another part of you was also annoyed with yourself for not getting the girl's number; you really only knew one thing about her: that her name was Leighton Murray.

You toss and turn in bed, unable to shake the memories of the past creeping back into your mind. The pain of that night resurfaces, making you question everything you thought you had moved on from. The image of Regina George's malicious smile flashes in your mind, fueling your anger and frustration. You make a mental note to find Leighton Murray, to reach out, and perhaps to find solace in someone who understands. With determination in your heart, you drift off to sleep, hoping for a better tomorrow.

The next morning, you wake up quite late; it was definitely past two in the afternoon. You open your eyes, and your heart drops when you hear Regina's voice from downstairs. What the fuck? Why would Gretchen invite her? You don't want to see her irritating face, so you climb out of your window.

You grab your helmet and hop on your bike, deciding to ride to the mall to clear your mind. The cool wind against your face helps alleviate some of the anger and frustration swirling within you. As you pedal through the familiar streets, you can feel the tension slowly melting away. The rhythmic motion of cycling helps you focus on the road ahead, pushing aside thoughts of Regina and Gretchen and the thought of the girl at the bar last night.

Arriving at the mall, you lock up your bike and take a deep breath as you enter the bustling shopping centre. The sound of chatter and laughter fills the air, distracting you from the negative thoughts that have been plaguing your mind. You wander through the stores, browsing aimlessly as you try to find some sense of peace.

After a while, you decide to stop at a café for a cup of coffee. Sitting alone at a table by the window, you watch people come and go, lost in your own thoughts. You order a chai latté and a caramel slice. As you sip your drink, you hear a voice calling out your name. You turn to where the voice was coming from, and you smile when you see Jennie.

She sits with you, giving you a hug. "I haven't seen you in ages!" She exclaims, You nod your head. "Yeah," you say, frowning slightly. Jennie frowns back, holding your hand. "Hey, you know I don't care that you are lesbian." She says this, rubbing your palm with her thumb. You nod your head, but the memory of what Bella did to you comes flooding back.

You start to talk for a while, and you try your hardest not to bring up what happened with you and Bella because you don't want to ruin their friendship, but she keeps asking why you aren't sitting with her and the others.

You look at her dead in the eye for a few seconds; you don't say a thing; it makes her scared, so she breaks eye contact, which makes you speak up. "I was seeing Janis, and it turns out she was cheating on me with Bella."

Jennie gasps; she puts a hand on your back, giving you comfort, but you were already over that. "I think Bella runs the North Shore memes account." Jennie nods, agreeing with you, but she is only doing that to make you happy. She shakes her head to break out of it and says, "Let's not jump to conclusions. Who knew you were lesbian before the whole post?" Jennie asked.

You sighed deeply and answered, "Bella, Gretchen, Janis, and Damien." You say, Jennie nods, writing it down. You giggle at her actions, but then speak up again, "Oh! Janis' mom knew, but that's not important." Jennie cut you off by putting her finger on your lips. "Shush, all information is important."

The two of you talk for an hour, discussing all the needed information. "It's like we need the photos and the red string." You joked, and Jennie's eyes lit up. "Oh my god! Yes! Come home with me after school on Monday." She said, grabbing all her notes and standing up, "Jennie, I was joking!" You exclaimed, but she was already gone.

Monday came around quickly, and you sighed, knowing that you would have to face Regina. You put black jeans and a pink top on. You were about to ride your bike, but you got a text from Oliver saying he would pick you up.

He pulled up to the front of your house, and you could see the shock on his face. "Oh my god! Your house is massive!" You smile, getting in the car and giving him a hug.

"I haven't seen you in a while." He says you nod your head, you don't bring up the Instagram account the whole drive, and you talk about other things, like how you are excited for the school year to end when it literally just started.

He pulls up into school, and you two say goodbye to each other and head off to your home room. When you get to your home room, you put your face on the desk and hope this day will go fast, and you just hope you don't have to face Regina.

You hear the principles in a loud voice start to talk: "We have a new student joining us today." You didn't look up because you knew it was going to be someone boring. "Her name is Leighton Murray."

Your head shot up, and you made eye contact with her. Your heart started beating really fast when she started to smirk. She walked over and sat down next to you. "You're the pretty girl from the bar!"

You just nod, too flustered to even speak, which she finds adorable.

Leighton and you had a few classes together, and she would spend them sitting next to you because she had no other friends, but that wouldn't last long. Many people aspired to be friends with her because she was like a magnet, but all she wanted was you. 

Leighton was drawn to your quiet confidence and genuine personality, making you stand out among the crowd of people vying for her attention. Despite the many offers of friendship she received, she always made time for you, solidifying your bond even further. 

You noticed that all the stuff she owned was desirable; she was rich and she was pretty. You couldn't help but think about what it would be like if you were to date her. - Lunch came around, and you were going to take her to sit on a desk by yourself since you have no one else to sit with. Leighton didn't mind that at all.

Meanwhile, Regina Geogre was fuming; she was so annoyed as she looked over at you. Gretchen noticed this and snapped her out of it. "Regina? Can you stop looking at my sister like that? It's gross." Regina rolls her eyes and makes eye contact with her short friend.

"Who is that chick next to her?" Regina asks, with bitterness in her voice, "She's in Karen's English class; I think her name is Leighton?" Gretchen says, looking over at you and the blonde, smiling when she sees Leighton playing with your hair.

She turns back to face Regina, who is looking at you and Leighton with evil eyes, then she looks over at Karen, who is looking between Leighton and Regina. "You guys look similar." Karen says, and Regina shakes her head, "God, no, don't say that; that chick is ugly." She rolls her eyes as she continues to eat her lunch, but she can't stop looking in your direction.

Meanwhile, you were talking with Leighton about what has been happening: "Well, my girlfriend cheated on me, then my high school crush used me to make fun of me, so I might take a break from dating; I think I might develop trust issues." You say, Leighton mods, rubbing your back and playing with your hair. You look up, and you see Bella and Janis kissing. Even though you were over the situation, it still hurt to see.

"Y/N!" you hear someone exclaim, turning your head. You smile when you see Jennie and Charlie on the other side of the table. "Hey guys!" You smile. "Charlie, Jennie, this is Leighton; Leighton, this is Charlie." You introduce your friends to your new one, and you see Charlie and Jennie look at each other and smirk, making you confused.

Charlie turns to you; she grabs your hand and says quickly, "Jennie told me what happened with Bella; I'm so sorry." She says sympathetically, and you shake your head with a small smile, "It's okay; I'm over it now." You paused looking at everyone that was sitting on the table.

You notice the tension in the air. You take a deep breath before saying, "The only thing that is on my mind right now is who owns that account." You say, and the three girls nod, "We will figure it out at mine today." Jennie says, you smile and nod, "Leighton? Charl? You wanna come?" Jennie asks, looking between the two girls, and they both nod because they want to figure it out just as much as you do.

The bell rings, and the four girls stand up from their lunch table and head to class, while Regina is still sitting down, staring in your direction. Grtechen notices this and waves her hand in front of Regina's face. "Do you have a crush on my sister?" She asks, with hurt in her voice, and Regina gags, "God, no, I'm not a dyke."

Gretchen takes a deep breath. She looks over at Karen, and the two girls head to class, leaving Regina alone. Regina looks at her timetable and smirks when she realises she has a free period; she knows you also have one at this time; she knows you spend your time in the library; she waits a few minutes before she heads off to the library; she sees you studying alone, which makes her happy; she walks over to you and sits on the table you were sitting on.

You notice a presence on your table, so you look up and gasp when you see Regina. Without a word, you get up. She grabs your wrist and pulls you back down. "Wait." She says her voice was stern; you knew she wasn't fucking around. "What do you want, Regina?" You ask, rolling your eyes.

"I just wanted to talk to you," Regina replies, her eyes searching yours for a reaction. You can sense a hint of weakness beneath her tough exterior. "I've been wanting to apologise for the way I treated you before. I was wrong, and I'm sorry." Her words catch you off guard, and you can feel the tension between you slowly dissipating. You took a moment to process her apology before responding.

"I'm not buying your bullshit again, Regina." You say, getting up, pulling away from her grip on your wrist, and leaving. You walked somewhere where Regina wouldn't be able to find you; your best option was a space behind the bleachers. You sat there until the period was over. It was a long time of just hoping that it would end, but when the bell finally rang, you rushed out to the parking lot.

You waited for your friends to come out; you were standing quietly by Jennie's car as you patiently awaited. For what felt like hours, the three girls came out, slowly walking to you.

"We looked for you in the library, but we couldn't find you." Jennie says, hoping in the driver's seat, Charlie hums in agreement, "Yeah, where were you?" She asks, getting into the passenger seat. You sigh, hoping into the back seat, "It's a long story." The girls nodded. They know if you wanted to tell them you would, so they don't ask anymore questions.

When you get to Jennie's house, you sit around with her. Charlie and Leighton spend a few hours linking everything up, and your main suspects are Janis, Gretchen, Bella, and Regina. You hate that your sister is up there, but it makes sense. You just hope it isn't true; you just want to find out who the person who outed you to the whole school is.

"If it's Gretchen, I will lose my mind," you say, frustration evident in your voice. Jennie places a comforting hand on your shoulder, offering a sympathetic smile. "We'll figure this out together, no matter who it is," she reassures you. With renewed determination, you all start brainstorming ways to gather more evidence and finally uncover the culprit behind the betrayal.

After another hour of going through the suspects, you feel like you have gotten nowhere. Jennie and Charlie sigh. "We are going to the store to get snacks, Leighton; please look after her." You nod, feeling grateful for your friends' support. As Jennie and Charlie leave, you turn to Leighton, feeling a sense of determination wash over you. "We can't give up now," you say firmly. "We will find out who did this, no matter what it takes." Leighton nods in agreement, and the two of you dive back into the investigation, determined to solve the mystery once and for all.

It feels like they have been gone for ages. You were hungry, and you needed a break from this whole thing. Leighton senses this, so she stops what she's doing and moves to sit next to you. She placed her hand on your thigh, which made your heart race and your face turn red. "Let's stop this; when they come back, we will have a break. I can sense that this is very overwhelming."

You take a deep breath and nod, grateful for Leighton's understanding and support. As you sit there together, the weight of the investigation temporarily lifts, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you. The tension in your muscles begins to ease as you lean into Leighton's comforting presence.

Her hand was still on her thigh, and even though she was scrolling on her phone, you saw an opportunity, and you decided to try and take it. "Leighton?" You said, voice barely above a whisper, that you would be surprised if she heard you. "Yeah?" She asks, lifting up her face from her phone and turning it off to face you.

There was intense tension between you two; your faces were close together, her hand was in your lap, and you were desperate to break it off. In an attempt to hint at her, you glanced at her lips before looking back into her eyes. You were hinting at something, and she noticed. You both began to lean closer, and she smirked and moved her other hand to grab your waist.

Before your lips could touch, the door opened. "We are back!" You heard Jennie yell.

[mortuarywriting]

Falling into Place

Ao3 Link - [First] - [Next Chapter ->]

All things considered this isn't what you were expecting to wake up to when you went to bed. One minute you're on your phone, trying to pass out, and the next? You're here. You've had some interesting greetings in your life, but dropping about six feet and having twelve guns leveled at your face? That takes the cake

Warnings:

Reader Insert, Plus-Size Reader, The Author Regrets Everything, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Isekai, canon divergence Look we're gonna dig into the implications of omegasverse changing bits and pieces of history as well as addressing whatever the FUCK is happening as CoD's history. Idk man Godzilla is canon and nobody bats an eye at that fact and you think I'm gonna be normal about that? No

You could be having a worse day, you think, as you stare at the interrogation table you're cuffed to. They could've shot you the second you fell the six feet from the sky into a random army base. That's a very real thing that could've happened.

But no, you just had a dozen guns pointed at you in one moment and a slew of questions you didn't have satisfying answers for.

No, you had no idea how you got there. You'd been in bed tooling around on your phone and then you were falling.

They asked who you worked for, and were not impressed by your mundane answer. You didn't work for some pmc or intelligence organization. You asked them to their faces if they thought you could pass a PT test if you tried. Not that they answered or appreciated your point, mind.

It was only after you gave them whatever identifying information you had that things got… spicy.

"I would love to tell you what this designation of yours is if you tell me what you mean. Is it like a classification of civilian versus enlisted? Is it physical? Is it your horoscope? I don't know what I don't know," you explain again for the Nth time. You didn't wanna play twenty questions but here you fuckin were, captive audience and all.

The man asking you questions had lost his charming good cop look. He was getting more and more annoyed on this one, "your designation," a demand, not a question and sure as shit not an answer.

"Again, would love to tell you! I don't know what you mean! Feels like some kinda Star Wars thing," you grumble the last bit to yourself but the man cocks his head.

His eyes narrow, "what are… Star Wars, you said?"

You blink owlishly, "beg pardon?"

"Star War. Clarify."

It's your turn for your brow to furrow, and furrow it does, "Star Wars? As in the multi-billion dollar franchise created by George Lucas and eventually sold to Disney," your tone is questioning, just shy of asking if the guy lived under a rock but his expression didn't let up and the last thing you needed was bad cop, so you continued, "the story of what happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away? The political space series of movies versus Star Trek's more scientific and discovery based longstanding TV show? Nine major movies and the Clone Wars before Disney sunk their talons in. Like yeah we got more shows and movies that expanded the universe but they also cut out decades of book contributions in their acquisition and that kinda sucked. But yeah, that Star Wars?"

"Nine movies," his tone is disbelieving, and now it's your turn for your eyebrows to raise, "can you name them?"

You nod, "well yeah. Do you want them in episode order or release?"

His brows furrow, "did they not release in order?"

"In a sense? Three trilogies, 4-5-6 back in the late 70s early 80s, then 1-2-3 in the late 90s early 00s, and 7-8-9 through the teens. So order, yes, just… not a cohesive one."

"Release, then," he leaned back and crossed his arms, a position you'd love to mimic if you weren't cuffed to the table for… an indeterminate period of time now, actually.

"A New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi-"

"Woah now, empire? What's a jeddy?"

You give him a blank look, trying very hard to mask your disbelief as you look between him and the mirror behind him. You look at your reflection, take a deep breath, and- "sir would it be easier for you to maybe check the internet?"

He seemed to bristle, nose flaring and looking at you expectantly.

You just… kinda sat there. You tapped your fingers together on the desk and kept the eye contact he was intent on. It took a good minute and him getting progressively pissier before you simply ask, "would you like the other movies now?"

You didn't expect an explosion of movement from the man. He downright snarled and slammed his hands on the table as he burst to his feet, the sudden change sending his chair screeching back before falling with a clatter. You leaned as far back as your cuffed hands would allow, eyes wide and a panic rising.

Both of you turned to look at the door when it slammed open with a barked, "Williams!" 

The man who opened it reared back a bit, "Christ, layin' it on a bit thick," he groused, his tone sounding more like someone chastising a teenager for using too much Axe body spray. He smoothed his posture back into something casual as he fanned the air dismissively with a hand, "cap wants you to take a walk."

Your interrogator- Williams, apparently- stares at the man in the door, the two locking eyes before the one in the door straightens from his purposely relaxed posture. You watch the both of them, noting the shoulders tensing as the two just. Staring at each other? Eventually the guy who'd been grilling you looked away and stormed out, the man in the doorway letting him slip out easily enough before turning a charming look back to you.

He took a minute to fan the door a few times to get newer, blissfully cool air in before he entered the room, "sorry 'bout him. He really did a number in here," the new guy tsked before closing the door quietly behind himself.

Your brow furrowed even as you slowly relaxed a bit, had this Williams guy like… farted or something? A nice quirk of ventilation keeping you from smelling something abhorrent? Either way you simply shrug as he walks in and tips the chair back up, sitting and giving another reassuring smile, "how you doing, love?"

You opened and closed your mouth a few times before simply settling on, "I'm a bit… whelmed? This has been," you give as vague a rolling gesture as you can without your cuffs rattling too badly, "a lot? And I have no idea what just set him off either?"

It's the man before you's turn to quirk a brow, "no idea?"

"If I knew the answers to his questions I'd've given 'em by now. I don't, though, and then he just started staring? And hell I just thought it was some kinda macho 'I can stare the truth out of you,'" you pitched your voice lower and pushed your shoulders out for a second to mimic the douchebag behavior before settling, "so I kept eye contact because I'm so out of my depth I have no reason to lie at all and now…" you trail off, gesturing around the room, "all that."

The man nods slowly, "alright love, could you tell me about the last five years?"

Your brows furrow, "oh fuck, 2019 was five years ago wasn't it. God, time is an illusion. Anyway, you want what I was doing leading up to and through the pandemic?"

You think he might've startled for a second but he simply moved to scratch his chin, "mhmm. Just your thoughts on the last five years is all."

So… you ramble. Because he was nice and not prodding or asking weird questions. You talk to him about your job before the pandemic, how people thought covid was just a flu until the death tolls kept climbing, how tons of governments dropped the ball on a local or country-wide level and how that kicked back onto your life, and then the absolute crapshoot of the last election cycle, the shitty 'oh no this is the new normal everything is fine' behavior that has lead to surges and cycles of a fucking plague and so on. He simply nodded, gave some sympathetic hums and winces appropriately at your experiences.

"And did you go back and watch Star Wars through that? Or other things Disney owned?"

And, well, that was a weird way to phrase it but you shrugged, "the mouse is just shy of a monopoly and not one that anybody can take that down so… yeah, I guess? They kept putting shows out and expanding their Star Wars universe so that's been kinda neat to watch but not just them, no. Couple other games and stuff like that to keep me busy, too," you kinda handwave and shut up because panic rambling to MILITARY PERSONNEL is probably not your smartest move in hindsight. Especially when you don't know his name. A+, self.

You tap your fingers against the metal table as he looks at you, "and you said covid has a long term effect of ruining people's senses of smell and taste?"

You nod slowly, "yeah, dude? It's one of the biggest warning signs for most people? Like if everything starts tasting like it was made by a middle class white mom who keeps shoving random letters in her kids names you should swab? That kinda shit?"

What rock has this guy been living under? You were pretty sure the military were supposed to be way more familiar with this shit all things considered, but you've been wrong before.

It was his turn to give you a bit of a wide eyed look before he poorly covers a laugh, "alright, that's fair. I need to go talk with my captain," he hooks a thumb over his shoulder to the window, which didn't surprise you that there had been people back there. He offers a reassuring smile as he stands, humming idly as he pushes the chair back in. He pauses mid-step, "you mentioned that there were cards…?"

You find yourself nodding slowly, "yeah it was important and you couldn't fly or go to certain places if you didn't have one for a while. Should still have a picture of mine buried on my phone," you really didn't wanna get another first-round of covid shots, you REALLY didn't wanna repeat the 24 hours of suck for no reason.

"Cool, thanks," he flashes another charming grin before he slides out of the room.

You lean back in your chair, what an odd guy. Nice though.

-------

"Right," Gaz says as he opens the door to Price and Ghost, "either our mystery guest is off her nut or she's legitimately from somewhere and somewhen else."

Ghost and Price look at each other before turning back to Gaz, this… complicated matters.

Well, it's not like you hadn't given them information to identify yourself. They'd dig up who you were one way or another.

-------

You stare blankly as the nice man from before gives you a sympathetic look, "what do you mean I'm dead?"

Behind him is a guy you're not sure if he's just fuckoff huge or if he's just moderately huge and it's forced perspective.

You don't think it's forced perspective.

You are absolutely trying not to panic spiral.

You are absolutely doing a horrible job at that.

"Well," he opens the file before him and there's a news article, proudly proclaiming "Locals Die in Horrible Freak Accident" like that's not some form of you that was looking like some smear on the pavement, "there's this. Fingerprints match up. Can check for dental if you're really curious."

"Were there even any teeth left after that," you mumble as you take and read the offered article. Seven people were involved, the pictures used are mostly flattering. Hell, you almost don't mind what pic they used for an alternate you but… "that's certainly not the pic I would've wanted. Maybe this me had different tastes?"

You take the time to actually read through the article. It's not helping because for as much as you stare at the page you're not absorbing any information. Some form of detachment, if this was really you? You'd died. A different you but a you nonetheless. You died and you're reading how it happened. There was a lot to unpack in all this and you just needed to put the suitcase away for now. You'd much rather throw it away at this rate.

You were rapidly coming to the understanding that you and Toto were not in Kansas anymore, and there wasn't a convenient yellow brick road to get yourself back home. No easy way to get the hell out of Dodge either. Was it Dodge or the O.K. Corral that was in Kansas? No the O.K. Corral wasn't in Kansas- Dodge was though, that's right. 

This analogy was getting away from you and some part of you figured this was just your brain trying to protect yourself but… wait, wasn't this a metaphor? There wasn't 'like' or 'as' or goddammit not again.

You recognize some names here and there but largely everyone involved were perfect strangers. The article doesn't cover if it would've been slow or quick. You hope for the smear that it was quick. Smears like that don't happen slowly, right? Well, not unless it's like a dramatic slide down a window, but not usually across pavement like that.

Still not sure how you feel about all of it. Bit morbid being confronted with your mortality like that.

Certainly answered a lot of questions about your theoretical passing you never thought about. Like if the obituary for you in what you know to be your own home and world is just as… really kinda just mediocre as this. Have you really done nothing of note for an obituary? Damn.

You kept pouring over the article, each pass bringing new words into focus that help connect the picture a little bit, but… Something repeated in the article made you pause, "two alphas, four betas, and an omega?" 

There was no decent way to ask about that. Any questions invoked from here would border into dangerous territory better kept between yourself and a private browser history. You knew what you were about but there was no fucking way.

"Their designations," the nice man whose name you still hadn't caught explains, "mostly explaining their secondary gender."

You look at him owlishly. You pray to whatever God might be listening that you wake up shortly. Or that the earth below your feet opens up and swallows you. Whichever comes first, the mortification will snipe you otherwise.

"Please tell me this is an elaborate joke at my expense," you are very quiet as you are trying to get really cool with a lot of things really quickly.

"Negative," the big fucker in the back practically growled and you knew that voice would do things to you if you weren't half stepped out of your own body. 

You missed whatever his followup was but your brow furrowed when you checked the date on the article, "I've been dead for months? That…" you let the paper fall from your hands. Everything about this is wild at best and very overwhelming at worst. 

A lot of this qualified as worst.

You look up at the two, missing the odd look they shot at each other as you try to pull yourself back together, "so now what? You've got a not-a-smear of me that fell from the sky onto a secure military base, and where I'm from we didn't have," you paused to gesture between the paper and the two soldiers, "dynamics was it? That was just a fanfiction special."

"Fanfiction."

The way he said it was so carefully neutral you paused, "oh my god without Star Trek to popularize fanfiction and the fan community, how has fandom evolved? Is fanfiction a thing- well, yes, it does fanfics have been a thing since Dante Alighieri wrote the Divine Comedy and even before- well, the question is more if it's still popularized? Are there still the wattpad fics of- I am getting so off track. What exactly is the next step?"

You look from the nice man to the big fucker and back, neither saying anything but looking at you with careful blankness.

You felt like you were being weighed and measured in their eyes.

You hoped to anyone listening that you weren't found wanting at least. Not when you're in the shit situation it looks like you ever so increasingly fell into.

"Considering I'm. Not smear. And very much not from here? Are blanks a thing? Or is that what a beta is I'm," you trail off, brow furrowing, "fuzzy. On the whole thing. The flavor of understanding, dynamics, and population skew tended to be dependant on the author's level of horny."

The did get a bit of a snort from the pretty one before you, the one in the back tilting his head just so as the pretty one spurred you on, "okay please don't take this the wrong way, you have given me nothing to go on but A/B/O and-" a finger was raised in question to that, you quickly explaining, "the fanfic shorthand for the universe without being a mouthful. Anyway- I've seen population numbers being roughly the same across the board, I've seen alphas and omegas at roughly 1% of the population of society on either end, I've seen alphas at about 5% and omegas at 1%- those ones are usually the most horny I swear.

"And it's all over the board, no consistency- sometimes it's betas are infertile, sometimes they're the straightman to the comedy that's an alpha and omega trying to woo each other without being too horny to function. Sometimes it's a sliding scale where being beta just means you're more the more middle-ground regulated hormonally with alphas and omegas being the opposing ends of a spectrum. Can you please say something and give me a fucking break because my panic rambles are probably like. Some kinda prejudiced. I'm still not over the 'I'm supposed to be a smear on the ground we don't even have dental images of to confirm who it is anymore' nugget you dropped on me. I think I'm doing well for this"

You would rather not tell them that as soon as you're out of this box of a room you were gonna be curled up in a ball and unabashedly weeping. That was none of their business.

The pretty one gave you what you're sure was supposed to be a reassuring smile but the quiet stretched just a bit too long. You looked from one to the other before leaning forward, "is this supposed to be soothing in some way? Because it's just a bit of an extended awkward silence and that's uh-"

It was the big one in the back's turn to give an amused snort, the pretty one looking bashful, "right, sorry, we uh-"

You jerk a bit, "wait, was that supposed to be some scent thing," you really didn't wanna say pheromones and potentially dig yourself into a deeper, more awkward hole based on Horny Pseudoscience.

Pretty rubbed the back of his neck, "something like that. You really couldn't smell anything?"

You know the exact Face you're making. It's very much your 'I have told you this and I'm getting tired of having to repeat it' face. You can tell he clocks it but for the record, because to your mortification this has to be recorded, you simply give a succinct, "no, I haven't smelled anything. Not from you, not from him," you jerk your head towards the big fucker, "and not from douchebag from be- Williams! His name was Williams. Nothing. Really had no clue why you were fanning the door when you came in."

You sigh, rubbing the heels of your palms into your eyes, "okay. Assuming I'm not about to be put into past tense a second time. Do we have any idea what popped me out here?"

The sentences are stilted, you know you're getting more rattled the longer you're here but sue you alright it's been the worst six hours of your life here.

They just continue to look at you, pretty keeping a polite almost customer service look as big one just stares unceasingly.

"Right. Okay. Am I going to be reintegrated to society or is this," you gesture around the little room as much as you can, "looking like my home for the foreseeable future."

No change in what you can see of either's expression, and you just sag. Deep breath in, deep breath out, "cool. Alright. Well. I know nothing of how biology is altered here, I'm not sure how that has impacted changes throughout history, and frankly I don't know what your pop culture has done. I'm assuming math and written languages are largely the same but in all fairness I don't know what I don't know."

You just stare quietly at the table for a bit longer before looking back at the two of them, "is there anything else you need because I can feel the freakout creeping up and while I know there's no real privacy, uh…"

The pretty one looked back to the big one, at some point you're sure you'll get some sort of names but for now? Now you watch the big one nod, the pretty one give you a polite smile and some vaguely polite bullshit your brain is swiftly going too far out to hear.

You only hope that whoever is behind the mirror is polite enough to look away as you put your head down on the table and give yourself the opportunity to, just this once, cry. As a treat.

[Next Chapter -> ]

[lousypotatoes]

I'm Happy Again

Song Recommendation:

Rhapsody in Blue - George Gershwin

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

90 years ago...

It had been almost 2 weeks since Y/N had called into the radio station. She had called in ever since.

"Ah, my dear Y/N! How lovely it is to hear your voice!" he exclaimed on the other side of the line. "The usual tune?

"Not this time, Alastor," she giggled into the phone.

"Oh?" Alastor said curiously. "What song would you like to request then, my dear?"

"Mhmmm, how about Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin?"

"Ah, another splendid classic!" Alastor said. "You sure do have a wonderful taste in music, Y/N,"

"Oh, cease your flattery sir," she gushed. "You're makin' me blush."

"You'll hear Rhapsody in Blue right after this song, darling," Alastor said smoothly.

"Thank you, kindly,"

"Of course,"

The flower shop was really busy, it being Mother's Day, everybody in there, whether it was a father with his children, or single men, were all picking out flowers for their mothers.

It made Y/N feel warm inside. She wanted so desperately to have children of her own to give her flowers.

"What's the rate for these tulips?" said a voice.

Y/N turned and saw a very handsome man with dark skin, brown air, and glasses. His voice seemed so familiar, but she couldn't think of where she had heard it.

"Oh um," she stuttered. "Three dollars per stem, sir."

"Terrific," he said, handing her the money.

"I presume those are for your mother?" she asked kindly, taking the money.

"Yes," he smiled. "Tulips happen to be her favorite."

"Your mother has refined taste in flowers then," Y/N giggled.

Alastor looked at her, after a moment his eyes widened.

"Y/N?"

She looked at him, surprised he knew her name. Then it hit her.

"Alastor?"

"Oh, what an unexpected surprise!" Alastor exclaimed. "It's a delight to finally meet you in person, my dear." He extended is arm out for Y/N to shake.

"Thank you, Alastor," she said, taking his hand and shaking it. "I never expected to meet you in person, let alone at my flower shop."

"Well, I do have a knack for surprises," he chuckled, letting go of her hand. "How are you on this lovely morning?"

"I'm doin' quite well, what about you?"

"Oh, I'm peachy!" he said. "This place looks wonderful. It really is quite impressive."

"Thank you kindly, Alastor," she blushed. "Is this your first visit to the shop?"

"I've frequented here a few times before," he answered. "But I only really come on Mother's Day."

"That's quite understandable," Y/N said. "You should visit here more frequent," she said, feeling bold.

"Perhaps I will, my dear."

"Have ya'll finished flirtin'?" someone behind Alastor rudely said. "I need these flowers bagged up.

"Oh, yes right away, ma'am," Y/N said quickly. "Will I be seein' you again soon, Alastor?"

"You have my word, Y/N," he smiled at you. "Have a lovely day, my dear."

"You as well, Alastor," she said as he turned around to walk out.

sorry that this chapter is shorter, I have a lot to write today lol.

stay safe and drink lots of water, it's hot today.

xoxo, Izzy

Taglist 💋

@slytherin4ever @trippoverrt @maksdust

[superhaught]

Sweetest Girl (Chapter Four)

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warning(s): continuation of angst, insight into reader's home life (absent parents, poverty), emotional damage

Word Count: 1600, Part 4/?

Summary: Reader and Regina try to cope in the aftermath of their confusing and sudden separation. Regina keeps up appearances, Reader doesn't feel like herself.

@sapphicantics saw it first <3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

The rest of the day passed with no word from Regina. 

After Regina let you out of her car, you walked a few minutes down a dirt road to to the trailer park you called home. Your mom was predictably passed out in front of the TV that sat on the table in the middle of the Jayco trailer. Dad wasn’t around. Also predictable. 

You grabbed a few things you needed and checked the refrigerator for something to eat just in case but there was only a half empty case of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

The rest of your day was spent walking to the 24 hour gym to grab a shower. To McDonald’s for a meal. Then to the library to finish your own homework. 

Weekends were the hardest. Two fewer meals a day when you weren’t at school. Too much time to kill. Sundays were the worst of it because the library closed at 5 instead of 9.

You were trying to do your history readings but your thoughts kept frustratingly drifting to Regina. You thought about how if she knew the full truth, she’d be pissed at you for not saying anything, and then she’d feel guilty for making you leave, and then she’d be pissed all over again. 

You wanted to hit yourself. You’d only really known Regina for a week and already you were thinking about her like she was your best friend in the world. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. 

At 4:50 pm, someone lightly tapped your shoulder, waking you up from an accidental nap hunched over your books.

“Gotta pack up sweetie, I’m sorry,” the librarian gave you a pitying smile. 

You blinked and nodded, “sorry for falling asleep.”

“Don’t worry. Have you eaten today?”

You nodded again.

“Alright, well grab something from the pantry on your way out anyways.”

“Thanks.”

You had gotten into the habit of getting your breakfast from the cafeteria and then sitting out in the front courtyard to read and people watch as your classmates arrived for school. You didn’t realize that you were able to recognize the sound of Regina’s car specifically until you were looking up from your book and watching it pull into her spot in the lot. 

The blonde opened her door and threw her hair over her shoulder. She wore sunglasses, making her expression unreadable as she strode across the pavement. 

You clocked Gretchen and Karen’s approach just a second before it seemed Regina did and you watched her take a deep breath in before they pounced on her and started yapping her ears off. 

None of that came as a shock to you. You figured she would uphold her usual even if was still as upset as you were. What happened next was what rendered you paralyzed. 

As the girls made their way toward the school building, some guy intercepted them and slid in between Regina and Karen. He did that stupid thing where he ran his hand through his hair and then stretched his arm out as if he was yawning just so he could drape it around Regina’s shoulders. 

She didn’t react. 

He then leaned in to apparently kiss Regina. At that, she did turn her head so that he could only plant one on her cheek, but still. 

You were aware that you were staring, mouth fully agape, eyes wide, as the group of four walked past you. You didn’t care. The only thing you cared about was the fact that Regina glanced back at you over the shoulder that the dude was possessively gripping. You couldn’t see her eyes past the dark lenses she was wearing and all you could think about for the rest of the day was how much you wished you could have seen her expression. 

During the chem quiz, you kept glancing across the room at her. Trying to check in, catch her eye, anything. She never looked up from her paper. Not once. 

When time was up, you turned your quiz in feeling fairly confident that you performed terribly on it. You watched Regina get up from her desk and check over her answers again before she looked up and met your eyes. 

If it hadn’t been for your teacher telling everyone to find their seats again, you might have stood there and held eye contact with Regina forever. 

She gave you a pained smile and then cleared her throat before walking up the aisle between the rows of desks and handing her quiz in. 

You sat back down at your desk and watched her the entire time it took for her to return to her desk and sit. She didn’t look at you again, but she moved her hands to her lap and picked at her cuticles for the rest of class. 

When you were all dismissed, you tried to catch her on your way out, going as far as to call out to her but the woman knew how to move with purpose and she was well ahead of you. 

At the same time, your teacher called your name, “stay a second, will you?”

You sighed and turned around.

Your teacher was holding yours and Regina’s quizzes in each hand and glancing them over, “well, by the looks of this, she has improved remarkably. However, your quiz…”

You winced, “I know.”

“If I didn’t know your handwriting I would have to assume that you swapped papers with her or something. This isn’t you.”

You nodded, “I just had a really bad day. I don’t think I’ll screw up this bad again.”

“Well, your grade is going to be fine but, are you okay? She’s not giving you trouble is she?”

You glanced at the classroom door that Regina left through then shook your head and faked a smile, “no, no. Not at all. She’s… she’s been great to tutor.”

“Okay, well, if you need anything, you’ll let me know?”

You nodded, slung your bag over your shoulder and walked out the door. 

You knew when you agreed to tutor Regina that there’d be a chance she might get under your skin. She is Regina George, after all. You just never expected that the getting under your skin would be because you were falling for the girl and unable to do a single thing about it. 

As it turned out, though, Regina wasn’t done getting under your skin for the day. 

The blonde was leaning against your locker when you approached it. She was examining her nails but then she looked up at you and dropped her hands to her side. She opened her mouth to speak and then shut it again. 

You stared at her expectantly, “well?”

“Um, could you come with me, please?”

“Why?”

“To talk.”

“Talk to me here.”

“I… I can’t.”

“No? Do you need your boyfriend or something?”

Regina clenched her jaw. 

You felt a pang in your chest. The words this isn’t you echoed in your mind. 

She frowned and looked down at her hands. 

You sighed, “where did you want to talk?”

She met your eyes again, “bathroom?”

You nodded and followed her down the hall. Once inside the restroom, she checked the other stalls for any stragglers that hadn’t gone to lunch yet. 

You crossed your arms in front of your chest and waited for her to talk. 

She faced you from a respectful distance, “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry again.”

“What are you sorry for, exactly?”

“For… well, all of it.”

“What was the plan? Were you going to lead me on, maybe start a secret situationship, keep me wrapped around your finger while you kept up appearances at school? But then you flipped out, and now you’re sorry that you did it, or are you sorry that it didn’t go the way you wanted? Did you think that maybe if you apologized you could try again?” 

Regina’s eyes went wide and she shook her head, “n-no! That… that’s not… I didn’t…” she stepped closer to you and you stepped back.

“No, actually, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Because you tried to warn me, didn’t you? You said that I should stop being so nice so that I wouldn’t get taken advantage of, right? So I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you.” As you continued, you started crying, and so did she. 

“When did it start with the guy? Before? Or last night? Does he make you happy, Regina? Actually, nevermind, it’s none of my business. It’s not like we’re in a relationship, right?”

Regina sobbed, “please, please just… please listen… I didn’t set out to hurt you… I… I got scared…”

You wiped your face of the tears you’d shed, “I’m sorry, Regina… I don’t actually want to be mean…” 

She stepped closer to you again, “I… I don't want to lose you as a friend because of this.”

You shook your head, “fuck, I don’t know Regina… I think it’d be best if we just… left each other alone…”

“No, wait… I don’t want that.”

“I’ll still tutor you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“That isn’t what I’m worried about!”

You took a step forward and closed the space between you and Regina, “then what do you want?”

She seemed to cower from the question, “I don’t know.”

You nodded. You met her eyes and you felt your lip quiver, so you turned your face away, “then… I guess… if you figure it out, let me know. I… I’m upset right now but… I don’t want to lose you either.” 

With that, you turned around and left. 

Regina didn’t see you skip lunch to go outside and cry until the next class period. 

You didn’t see Regina go into one of the bathroom stalls and do the same.

Next Chapter

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 4 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warning(s): homophobia becomes a central theme. mention of a close dead relative. internalized misogyny.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 5

You were sitting on the grass under the bleachers when Janis 'Imi'ike came up to you.

"I'm not selling right now." You said, suspecting she was here to see about buying alcohol or something. You had a contact and made a small bit in commissions around the school selling stuff.

"I'm- what? What're you selling?" Oh, well, guess not then.

"Nothing." You didn't want to incriminate yourself. It was bad enough you were smoking a cigarette right this moment. You took another drag. Usually, you didn't smoke during school but today was turning out to be a shittier day than usual.

"I'm not a nark, I could-" She seemed to shake herself. "Anyway. Why did you come to school with Regina today?"

"You saw that?" You inquired, alarmed but making an attempt to hide it.

"Yes. Now, why?"

"We live on the same street. Her car was having issues." You shrugged, trying to play it off.

"How'd you know her car was having issues?" She did not seem inclined to just let it go. It was beginning to annoy you.

"Because I fix it from time to time. Like I said, we live on the same street. We're not friends or anything." While you didn't like lying, especially not when you yourself were bitter about it, protecting Regina's rep was more important.

"I think that's a lie. We went to the same middle school for a while. You were close back then." She accused, crouching to be at level with you. You were officially annoyed now.

"You used to be close too." You took another drag and, noticing your cig was on its last leg, stamped it on the ground. "And how'd that turn out?"

Janis gritted her teeth. "Not well."

"Exactly." You gave her a tight, snarky smile and stood up. "Bye."

"Wait a minute!" She jogged after you as you made for the school building. "I'm not done!"

"I think you are." You called back, hastening your step. "There's nothing for us to talk about, Janis."

"Dude! You're being a huge dick right now." Janis caught up to you, gesturing as if she were offended. "Why are you so touchy?"

"I'm not touchy, I'm pissed that a stranger is getting all up in my business." You informed her curtly. "Lay off."

She held her hands up in surrender, an infuriating smirk on her face. "What business do you have with Regina?"

You halted and dropped your backpack on the ground. "What is your problem?" You advanced on her, not exactly squaring up but still getting a little too close for comfort.

"Woah, protective, aren't you?" She wasn't intimidated in the least. That only angered you more. "Has she ditched Cady already and found a new pet?"

"If I were you, I'd watch my mouth." You said as menacingly as you could.

"We could help each other out, y'know." She said, playing innocent.

"Why would I help you with anything?"

"Because she hurt both of us." You had to agree with that, however reluctantly. "I want revenge. She needs to go down." Now, that you did not agree with.

"What do you mean?" If they were planning a coup or something, you needed to get the details. You wouldn't be putting up with that shit.

"Cady's gotten an in with the Plastics." You'd never liked that stupid nickname Janis insisted on using. "She's still on the fence about them, but it's only a matter of time before I'm proven right."

"You've infiltrated the popular girl group like 007, great, because Regina wronged you somehow in middle school? Grow up." You rolled your eyes and picked up your backpack.

"She outed me, you douche!" She exclaimed before probably even thinking about it. Realizing what she'd said, she glanced around warily. Nobody was nearby since you were away from the courtyard.

Okay. Well. That made this a lot more complicated. You pinched the bridge of your nose. This was the exact reason you hung around skaters and stoner-wannabes. At least their drama was about graffiti and who had the good kush, not about whatever the fuck this was. You weren't aware you were living in a teen drama.

"Okay." You breathed in deeply. You did not want to be involved, no matter how justified Janis could've been. However, you needed information if you wanted to get in the way. "What've you got?"

A mean grin nearly split her face. Then, in just a second, it melted away. "You won't tell anybody, right? About, uh, that earlier-"

"I sell drugs behind the school, dude." You put it flatly. "You have more flak on me."

"True." She conceded. "So..."

Their plans weren't very well constructed, to be fair. Janis wanted to prove to Cady that Regina was a bitch, her words, and that was sort of just a waiting game. In the meantime, they were collecting information. So far they'd found out about the Burn Book, supposedly a scrapbook that Regina and her friends had filled with mean things about everybody at Northshore. Staff and teachers included. Apparently, Cady hadn't had much time to peruse it, so neither Janis nor you were in it for all she knew.

The concept made you nervous. You could very well be in that book and Cady just hadn't seen it. If everybody was in it, including nobodies like Mary Stigson and Amber D'Alessio, the chance was incredibly high.

You didn't even know what she could've written about you. Over the years you'd shared incredibly vulnerable bits of information with her. She'd shared with you too, but you weren't in any position to weaponize her secrets. You'd been through embarrassing moments that just the two of you knew of, had seen each other cry and rage and experience all sorts of overwhelming emotions, had made it through mortifying tweenhood phases together.

Regina could've written your whole life story, the nastiest highlights at least, without breaking a sweat.

You were like a zombie for the rest of the day. Barely paying attention in class, twirling a pencil in your fingers listlessly as whatever teacher went on and on. You looked up when a sharp, female voice called your name. You apologized to Ms Norbury and pretended to start working.

Calculus class, huh? You looked around, trying to be inconspicuous. You met eyes with Cady Heron. She quickly turned back to her work, writing numbers furiously. So Janis had told her about their new accomplice. Of course, you had every intention to tattle first thing once you talked to Regina again.

You knew she wouldn't want to be seen leaving with you, so you shot her a text that you'd be behind the bleachers waiting. You were her ride, after all. It would've been rude to leave her.

Relaxing somewhere quiet and alone wasn't too bad. You lifted your headphones over your ears and put on a Nirvana CD. Just this morning Regina had called you 'a hobo with a liking for grunge', or something along those lines. You did so love proving her right.

You lit a cigarette in honour of Kurt and closed your eyes. Something about this day, the utterly exhausting events, made you desperate to feel some release. Ever since dropping Regina off, you'd been a fucking mess. Janis having seen the whole thing and then coming to conspire against Queen Bee hadn't helped. You wished things could be spelt out for you.

Did Regina like you? Yes or no. You knew it wasn't that simple, that things weren't simple for her like they were for you. You liked her and so it was easy to let her walk all over you. You liked her so, of course, you sided with her even when Janis and you had a camaraderie. You liked her and so you chose not to think about the horrible thing she'd done to Janis.

Was it only a matter of time before she'd use that secret against you, too? Did it hang above your head even now?

"Hey, loser, stub the cig and let's get outta here. I'm sick of this joint."

"Who taught you to talk like that?" You opened your eyes and looked up at Regina. "Certainly not your father."

"What daddy doesn't know won't hurt him." She offered her hand to pull you up. "C'mon. I have a nail appointment to get to."

You hauled yourself up with her help. Over-balancing a little bit you tipped into her space, and for a moment there you breathed the same air. You took a hasty step back and tuned back into the conversation.

"And- and how're you gonna get there?" You already knew.

"We don't have enough time to go to mine first, so..." She smiled sweetly at you, getting that calculating look in her eye as she grabbed your arm and pulled it close to her chest. Looking up at you through her lashes, long nails stroking down your forearm, a smile so alluring it was evil on her face, she knew she had you. You couldn't say no.

Gulping, you inclined your head. "I'll take you."

"Thanks, babe." And with that, she pressed her purse into your arms to carry and skipped ahead.

Fuck. Fuck. You closed your eyes and fought off a groan. You'd almost forgotten the crush you'd nursed for her back then. It hadn't ever left, you knew that much, but it hadn't smacked you in the face quite like this before. You were familiar with moments that made your heart beat fast, scenarios that played on a loop in your head, and dreams you could never really make sense of. Now, though, hearing her call you babe and the physical reaction it evoked, there was no plausible explanation other than the obvious fact: You had a crush on Regina George.

You knew—knew—that it was hopeless. There was no world in which you and Regina could be a thing. Or maybe there was, but that was a pipe dream you'd do no good in entertaining. Your dad didn't care about who you dated, but you were sure he would be none too pleased. Regina's dad was a whole other case. He was way stricter than your dad, though just as distant.

You'd done this before. It would be fine. Admittedly, back when you'd been actively crushing on Regina you had been twelve and under. Back then you'd still tolerated skirts and girly hairstyles. Back then it'd been socially acceptable to cling to your friend like a koala, kiss her cheeks and hold her hand. If you tried that shit now, especially looking like you did, it would not slide.

(You'd been called slurs around the halls before. While you didn't generate much rumours or hubbub, you knew that you existed in people's peripherals in a certain way. They'd snidely ask if you liked the Ellen Show. Make vile hand gestures at you when you passed by. Garry Fort, resident church boy and social outcast, had even offered to pray for you. You had refused.)

"Jorts! Get a move on!" Regina shouted, a good distance away.

"Yeah yeah," You muttered, but picked up the pace.

"What took you so long?" She asked as she settled into the front seat.

"Lost in thought, I guess." Waxing melancholy about how we could never be together, sweetums. You opted not to say that. "So, where's this appointment?"

"Just drive to town, I'll give instructions."

"Sure thing." You bit your lip and tapped your fingers on the steering wheel. You hadn't had your licence for long but you'd been driving for much longer than that. You were a good driver. Back when you'd been young enough for your dad to feel obligated to spend time with you, he'd taken you to some backroads and taught you. Then, when that stopped, you'd done it illegally. Hey, girls gotta keep busy somehow.

"What's on your mind?" Regina asked, breaking the silence that'd turned uncomfortable.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing." You swallowed. "How was your day?"

"How was my day, seriously?" She turned her body to face you, arms crossed and a displeased look on her face. "What is it?"

You tried to think of something to say. You didn't want to ruin her whole day by revealing she had a spy, of all things. You'd planned on waiting a little bit before telling her. You would've maybe taken her for a ride and then gently broken the news.

So, that was a bust.

"Cady Heron is spying on you. She's retelling everything you're doing together with Gretchen and Karen to Janis and her friend Damien Leigh." You blurted it all out. "I was smoking in my usual spot and she just came up to me. And, uh, recruited me. Apparently, she saw you leave my car this morning."

"What?" Regina screeched, face slack with shock as well as strained with fear, panic, and all sorts of jumbled emotions. "Did anybody else see?"

"I don't know!" Your shoulders lifted all the way up to your ears in a panicked shrug. Her emotions were rubbing off on you and you did not like it. "Did people act weird around you today?"

"No," She paused to think. "No, everything was fine. Karen liked my top."

"You mean my top?" You corrected.

"Whatever." Regina looked out of the window contemplatively. "Are you plotting against me?"

You rolled your eyes, and took your sights off the road for a second to shoot her a look. "If I was, would I be telling you?"

"I dunno, I vividly remember you being sorta stupid."

"Wow, thanks, Reg, that's high praise coming from you. Only sorta."

"Shut up. You're so annoying." She unfolded her arms and leaned back in the seat. "Cady Heron. A spy."

"Janis told me, and I quote: "She needs to go down." Which was pretty dramatic in my opinion." Regina didn't say anything. "I mean, we're in high school."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Regina inspected her nails. Pretty acrylics, sharp and lethal, decorated with gems and swirls. A little grown out, sure, but still in perfect condition.

"I just mean that..." You thought about what you wanted to say. "Y'know, on average women in America die, like, between seventy and eighty years old. We're less than a quarter of that right now. Five years from now, I bet the problems we have now will seem stupid and insignificant. And then five years, or ten, from that, the issues then will look the same way."

"Morbid." She turned to look at you. You couldn't tell what her expression was like, in the middle of changing lanes to pass a car going way under the limit. "Are you always this philosophical?"

"I could be. If you wanted me to be." You wondered if that edged a little too close to flirty.

"No. It's insufferable." You didn't know how to respond to that. "I don't fucking care about the grand scheme of things. My problems aren't stupid or insignificant now, so it's no fucking use thinking, oh, it'll all be fine with time! Well, it won't be, if I don't do something right now." She ranted, waving her hands as she did. "And I will argue that women die much earlier than that."

"It's a statistic, Reg-"

"No, women die at menopause at the latest. They get sad, saggy and undesirable and they die." She said with such conviction that it shook you. "When you stop being beautiful, it's all over."

"Regina, that's..." Wrong. Incorrect. A horrible way to think. "I don't think that's true."

"Women like my mom have nothing to offer. When dad stopped wanting her and started looking elsewhere, when she stopped being asked out at the grocery store and they started asking me, when Kylie poked at her flab and asked what her stretch marks were, she died."

Listening to her talk like that, about her mom nonetheless, was heartbreaking. Still, you couldn't help getting angry. "Your mom is alive and well, Reg. Your dad cheating isn't her fault, it's him being an awful human being. Being asked out at the grocery store isn't like receiving a fucking Nobel prize. Flab and stretch marks are what you did to her body. What Kylie did to her body." You bit your lip when it started wobbling. You bit down harshly to stop it.

You continued even when your voice crackled. "My mom's always gonna be young and beautiful. She's gonna always gonna have smooth, wrinkle-free skin. I won't get to ask about her flab or stretch marks. Not ever." Regina was quiet. You could feel her eyes on you. "You don't get to complain about growing old. Mrs George's been like a mom to me, you know that, so don't fucking insult her in front of me. You can get all the botox and surgeries you want, but I'm not gonna sit here and listen to that shit."

"Sorry." She said, quietly. She'd never been good at apologies.

"It's fine." You wiped at your eyes. "I'm sorry for freaking out."

"No, it's... That was stupid." She mostly muttered, now sunken into the seat.

You shouldn't have raved at her like that. Unpacking all that she said would've been much easier with a clear head. Now you were both stuck in this tension. Tears drying on your cheeks and snot in your nose, you wished things would be easier. You wished Regina had never been taught to think like she did, that she'd see herself like you saw her.

"I think you'll still be pretty when you're forty." You put it out there, going for casual.

"You don't have to lie." She huffed, assuredly rolling her eyes.

"I'm not lying. I don't think a few wrinkles are enough to ruin your face."

"I'm not gonna get wrinkles. By the time I'm old enough to get them, there's gonna be technology to prevent signs of ageing entirely."

You laughed at that. "Are you gonna pioneer that?"

"You think I'd be smart enough?"

"I think you're very intelligent, Regina."

"Hm." You could tell she was pleased, though she was looking away. "Take left here."

"Yes, ma'am."

Notes: I'm writing these abnormally fast. Usually, I'm a total sloth with these things. I guess the instant gratification of notes really is addicting. If I suddenly drop off, I promise I didn't die I just ran out of steam.

I have no idea how long this series will be. I have a general outline and character arcs going in my head, but I'm purposefully not drafting anything. I've noticed that when I plan too much I just feel like I've already written the story and don't wanna put any of the work in. So, with this method, though it has its flaws, I won't get bored of my own ideas!

Also, just to sort of put it out there in writing, they're meant to be flawed characters. OC might be self-aware to a point, but she too has her shortcomings. While Regina's more obviously flawed, neither of them are saints. They're teenagers with shitty home lives, they're gonna be fucked up. That also includes Janis and Cady. They're all dumb teenagers with unresolved issues.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer

[i-wanna-write]

If One’s Different, One’s Bound to be Lonely - Wolverine Fic

Fic Synopsis: We know Wolverine and Sabertooth but the reader is known as Jackal. Just like the other two, their mutation is animalistic, lending them healing factors, enhanced physical abilities, and animal senses. This fic details their relationship with the Anchor!Wolverine and how they ended up meeting the Worst!Logan

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Chapter Warnings: Angst, cussing, brief discussion medical malpractice

Word Count: 4k+

A/N: Lots angst. Moving this plot along

\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\//

You searched for Logan after you escaped the facility. All Canadian territories then all the rural states of America. You searched for months, for years. Soon, it was five years since your capture and every day you had some hope that you’d find him again.

It eventually felt like forever since you saw him and had slowly come to accept that he was going to be like everyone who came into your life. A fleeting moment for a few years that turned into just a memory. As that’s how it went when you’re a mutant with a long life span.

So you tried to forget about him and his soft lips and muscular build. His smoky scent and dark brown eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite grasp. The way he entered you and made you feel almost loved, normal. You tried to forget.

But it was hard.

Especially when you were sleeping. You used to love it, how you’d dream of him when he was at war and wake up remembering your time together. But now your dreams taunt you and your nightmares are worse. Your dreams are memories and made up scenarios of moments with Logan.

The two of you are hunting together. The two of you are cooking dinner. The two of you in bed. Sometimes there’s a child in there, those ones wake you up in tears.

Others are memories of your month in the facility. Strapped to the table, needles poking you, and someone prying in your most intimate part. Those ones wake you up in bouts of anger, claws grown and sheets shredded.

You went about the next ten years of your life as you did before meeting the two brothers. It was almost easy to fall back into your old routine. Never expecting to run into someone you know or another mutant. You continued traveling across the United States and Canada. Finding secluded cabins and routinely buying supplies then simply living off the land and animals around you as you did once before.

You decided perhaps this was how your life was supposed to be. That you were meant to move around and be alone forever.

Your personal library continued to grow in size, having over 200 books now. Their genres ranged from science fiction, to romance, to poetry, to historical nonfiction. But you still had your favorite. Only it became your favorite for perhaps a totally different reason.

So, you easily fell back into your old ways, trying to keep James in a locked part of your mind. Your days were back to reading, occasionally stealing, sometimes killing another mutant who was dangerous and looking for a fight. You accepted a life alone was truly meant for you.

You are currently living outside Montreal, enjoying the sunlight as it shined down on your skin. You were renting a small cabin on a campground for the month. It was a little closer to civilization then you liked but nature for some reason always called to you. You weren’t able to hunt as you would’ve liked, in fear of being seen, but were still able to be alone and read, occasionally taking a dip in the lake if you wanted.

The food in the local restaurants were also really good. A rare burger or steak always called to you and for some reason, people in the town knew the perfect way to cook it.

So that’s where you were now, face buried in a burger with a side of fries and of course whiskey your drink of choice. Not that you were an alcoholic as it took almost triple the amount of a non mutant to get your drunk.

You were currently reading 1984 by George Orwell. It was surprisingly your first time reading it and you were enjoying it thus far - it’s themes similar to Brave New World. For some reason your favorite book choices tend to reflect the same world you lived in.

“Ah. 1984. ‘Where there is equality, there is sanity’. A great read in my opinion.” A man’s voice sounded suddenly.

Only the words weren’t said aloud. No, they were said from inside your head. Tensing, you put your book down and immediately glanced around your area. You didn’t see anyone in sight but did pick up three scents that you didn’t recall smelling when you moved in. You assumed they were intruders and couldn’t be your neighbors.

You stood, lunch and book now forgotten. Your claws grew to reveal themselves and you scanned the area again, trying to see through the foliage for who you assumed were three mutants.

And with your history, you didn’t want to bet that they were friendly.

“You can put them away. We mean you no harm.” The voice sounded in your head again.

“Yeah, how ‘bout you show yourselves and I be the judge of that ,asshole.” You thought back at it, itching for a fight.

Ever since your capture, you were more paranoid, more inclined to trust your instincts. You got too complacent, too happy the years you lived with James. You realize your instincts are the only thing you can truly trust.

Suddenly, the sound of leaves crunching and twigs snapping sound from your right and you turned to see three adults make their way through the woods.

One was a women. She was dressed in black pants and a jean jacket. Her hair was gray, though she looked to be the same age your body appeared. Another was a man, who for some reason looked familiar. Then it clicked. It was the same man that was there the day you escaped the facility. He was dressed in jeans and a flannel. He was wearing sunglasses again that had red tints rather than the black, his hands stuffed into his front pockets. He too looked to be around your age.

The final man was older, perhaps pushing 70. He was bald and dressed odd for an outing in the woods as he was wearing a suit. He had no hair and appeared kind with a smile on his face, as if he held all the secrets in the world. He was also in a wheelchair, using a power control on his right to push forward.

“Hello Y/N.” The old man said as the three came to a stop about ten feet in front of you.

“The fuck are you?” You questioned, noting that this was the same voice from inside your head.

You did a quick scan of the area, always having an escape plan and an attack plan ready if needed.

“You do not need to escape or attack. We merely would like to talk.” The old man added.

“Stay the fuck out of my head old man.” You growled menacingly, not liking how he could read your thoughts one bit.

“Understood.” He began. “I’m sorry to have intruded. But I did not want us to startle you.”

“Who are you? Why are you here,” you asked, nodding at the three.

Why are three mutants, and by their scents, with completely different mutations, together?

“Ah, yes. Introductions. My name is Charles Xavier and this is Ororo Monroe and I believe you may have recognized Scott Summers.” The man gestured with his hand to his respective companions.

“Well, thank you for getting me out of that shit hole but it doesn't explain why you’re here.” You state, wanting him to get to the point.

“It’s a bit difficult to explain but I know you’re aware we three are like you. We -“

“I’ll stop you right there old man.” You interrupt, holding up a clawed hand. “Only met two others who are like me, and no offense, you guys aren’t.”

Charles nods. “My apologies. You are correct, our mutation is not like yours. However, we do have our own unique set of abilities. As you’ve already been exposed to, I acquire the ability of telepathy and can speak inside another’s mind.”

“Congratulations.” You say sarcastically. “You can go now.” You point to the way they came.

“This is a waste of time Charles.” The man to his left speaks up. “She didn’t wannna come ten years ago and she sure as hell won’t come now.”

You turn your attention to him and you notice how he smells a little of fear. As if he knows who you are and what your capable of. You smile at that thought. It seems he’s done some research on you since your last meeting.

Charles ignored the man, Scott, and continues. “With telepathy, I can also reach out and find other mutants. After Scott informed me of you, I’ve been searching for you. Although, I can only pick up those within a few hundred miles radius. A few days ago, I found you.”

“You're saying you’ve been inside my head, just poking around for the last few days!” You question, voice beginning to raise and anger starting to enter you.

You can’t even begin to think what Charles has seen in your head. The lives you’ve taken. The few you’ve saved. The moments between you and James.

These people are definitely bad news.

“We are not bad news.” Charles states.

You go to yell again, irritated that he once again entered your head. However, you don’t get the chance as the woman finally speaks.

“We run a school.” She reveals, your eyes meeting hers and seeing no threat, no violence. Only concern and sincerity. “We recruit children who are mutants like us. We teach them regular classes that normal kids go to, as well as others that help them learn to control and grow their abilities. Sometimes, a few of us go out on missions and help those in danger.”

You take a moment at that, listening to her heartbeat to determine if she is truthful. You only hear the steady beat. You notice how her respiration is also steady and there’s no sweat - all the simple signs of being deceitful.

“Again, congratulations.” You start. “What does any of this have to do with me?”

“Simple. We want to recruit you.” Charles says simply, a smile on his face.

You laugh. You can’t help it. You’ve never been around people more than a few days in ten years and here comes three lunatics who apprently want you to attend their school. Maybe you’d have said yes before everything happened, but you cannot imagine being surrounded by so many people. Your life is insane.

“Recruit me?” You ask incredulously. “Sorry but I’ve been out of school for about, hmmm, 70 years.”

“Not as a student, but as a teacher.” Ororo corrects a small smile on her face as if she saw your laughter amusing.

You laugh again. These people have got to be on soemthing.

“If you’ve been in my head the past few days like you claim to have been” you point at Charles, “Then you know I hate being around people. You know that-“

“You get territorial. That you can easily blend into your environment? That you have 207 books in your own personal library - most that you did not obtain legally? That your favorite book is Brave New World and that you enjoy hunting for your own food and occasionally taking out what you deem ‘assholes who shouldn’t be on Earth’?”

You gape. You can’t help it. You guess this guy has been in your head. You grimace at what he may have seen.

“Just, give us time to explain a little more. Maybe visit the school. If you want nothing to do with it after - that’s okay. We won’t bother you again.” Charles proposes.

You swallow, thinking this through. While you do not know what the other two’s abilities are, you’re confident you can take them if the need arises. They seem sincere. Well, maybe not Scott but Charles and Ororo do.

If they want you to teach there, maybe this is your opportunity to finally understand the world. Why non-mutants hold so much hatred. Maybe you’d actually be able to learn how to handle being around other people- how to not be lonely.

With all these thoughts in mind, you nod.

…

The moment you visited Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters you said yes to teaching there.

You couldn’t explain it, but the school was different than anyplace you’ve ever been. Maybe it was because it was place solely for mutants. Maybe because you realized you could be yourself without the threat of revealing yourself. Maybe because it made you feel less alone.

You didn’t have someone there to guide you when you discovered your mutation. You didn’t have someone to explain your mutation. To help you through all the differences you had compared to the average human. You realized you could make a difference at the school. Being there for kids just like how you wanted someone to be there for you.

Charles, or old man as you continued to call him, only fondly, offered you to teach English and Literature, as well as assist with combat training due to your skill in that field. You agreed, excited for the opportunity to share your love of literature with younger minds.

You were given your own room, which was connected to a private bathroom. You brought the minimal items you owned with you, as well as all 207 books from your personal library. Due to the room size, your books were brought into your classroom, with the exception of some that you kept in your nightstand and a bookshelf in your room.

There was a communicable mess hall for meals, as well as a kitchen that everyone had access to at any time during the day. In addition, faculty had access to all classrooms if needed as well as the combat room.

You learned that Scott’s mutation was the cause of him wearing sunglasses 24/7. He was able basically shoot lasers from his eyes. Apprently the sunglasses prevented that from happening.

Ororo’s mutation was interesting to you, as it was soemthing you never thought possible. She has the ability to manipulate the weather and atmosphere. She could call a snowstorm at hand, a lightening strike, or even tornado.

You made a note to yourself to never piss her off.

The one thing you bregudebly relented to was a physical exam by Dr. Jean Grey. Charles informed you that at any moment you could stop the exam and nothing further would be done.

But you wanted to do it. For some reason you trusted Charles and he trusted Jean so you allowed the exam to happen.

Jean was a women that appeared a few years younger then you. She was tall, with fair skin and long red shit. She was a strong telepath that thankfully didn't invade your mind, understanding the invasion of privacy.

She was completely professional throughout the whole thing. Quickly drawing your blood, listening to your heart, and asking you to show off your mutation. She completed a gyno exam, gave you a full body CT scan - the school was super rich cause you have no idea how they could afford one - and an ultrasound.

All that was the during the first week of your stay and found you where you are now: seated in what they call the review room, listening as Jean explains her findings with Ororo and Charles present.

You did not like Scott, and did not want that man present to hear what you’ve been through. He seemed to have a superiority complex and you’d rather claw your own eyes out than have him know what was done to you.

You sit in front of a large screen, your body scans on view. You have no idea what you’re looking l at or what the numbers on the screen mean. Ororo is seated to your left with Charles in his wheelchair on your right.

Jean stands in front of you all, an electronic tablet in her hand - soemthing you didn’t even know existed. Again, this school is rich.

“From my results, I was able to hypothesize a few things that may have happened while you were held for a month.” Jean starts, having you on the edge of your feet.

“Is it safe to assume that once your mutation revealed itself, you never got sick” she questions, looking to you.

You nod as it’s the truth. You’ve never had the common cold, seasonal allergies, or the stomach bug.

“I’m assuming they injected you with multiple viruses to see how your body would react. I myself did that with one blood sample and a known strain of measles. When I combined the two, your cells immediately attacked the stain and eradicated it in mere seconds.

When comparing you to the average human or even mutants blood, you have a significant amount of neutrophils - a type of white blood cell - that fights of the infection. Typically that causes an average person to become sick, but your mutation produces it naturally to fight of any infection.”

You nod again. You don’t know much of biology but Jean at least explain it in laments terms so you can understand.

“As for your healing ability, which I’m also assuming they tested, works basically a hundreds times faster then soemone without your mutation. The level of neutrophils lends a hand to this but you also have high levels of fibroblasts and macrophages - cells responsible for the beginning and end of the healing process.”

You’re in awe. Since you’ve discovered you were a mutant, you always wanted to learn how. How anything you do is possible. That’s why you would always bug James about his own as they were so similar. Now though, you’re finally learning all you can.

“You also have a large number of keratinocyes, which allow your nails to grow at the rate and length they do into claws. When it comes to your teeth, you have an increase in all the cells responsible for growing and protecting them. I believe that is why yours are able to sharpen at will and are as indestructible as you described.”

You smile at hearing that. While you always tended to slice someone's throat with your claws, your teeth were your best asset. You shared with Jean how easy it was for you to tear into someone’s throat with them - namely dick Vic as you’ve begun to call him in your head. You got a laugh form Jean at those stories.

“One thing I did find, however,” Jean pauses, frowning slightly as she looks at her device.

Your heart starts to hammer in your chest and you feel Ororo grab your hand. You have no idea what she’s going to say but know it’s going to be bad. Why else would she have paused.

“However what?” You quesiton, one of your legs starting to bounce up and down in anxiety.

“I think it’s best we discuss this privately.” Jean’s voice is suddenly in your head.

You nod your consent, staring ahead and she informs Charles and Ororo that she wishes to speak about the last matter with you alone. Charles shoots you a look you see out of the corner of your eye before leaving.

Ororo gives your hand one last squeeze before rising from her seat and following Charles out. Suddenly it’s just you and Jean and you suddenly get nervous when she takes a seat next to you.

“You informed me during our exam that you have not gotten your period since your mutation revealed itself, correct?”

You don’t like where this is going. You nod.

Jean continues. “With some of the tests I did, as well as the gyno exam, you’re in perfect, healthy condition for soemone who is also your age. Ignoring the mutation.”

“But?” You question, searching Jeans eyes for what’s she’s going to say next.

“But, on average people who are your age have about 80,000 eggs available for fertilization. You have half that.” Jean reveals.

“Are you saying I can’t have kids?” You stand, running a hand through your hair. “I mean I never imagined having kids.” You start to rant, beginning to pace the small room. “But I mean, I did think of it once with one guy but that was almost a life time ago. I mean I-“

“Y/N” Jean starts, stopping your rambling. She’s now stood up and is facing you, hands on either shoulder. “I’m not saying you cannot have kids.”

You let out a breath. You didn’t expect that possibility to rattle you but it did. Maybe, somewhere deep down, you’re still holding on for Logan to turn up. For you to return to your cabin in the Canadian Rockies and actually have little runts of your own.

“Then what are you saying?” You ask weakly, having never felt this nervous before.

“You told me you remebred waking up once, when you were first at the facility, correct?”

You nod.

“And that there was a doctor, or someone, between your legs, and they made a comment about how they were surprised you weren’t with child?”

You nod again.

Jean sighs, leading you back to your chair. She sits down and grabs your hands in hers. You’ve only known her a week but have never seen her this worried, this emphatic. She’s usually all business, all serious.

“I believe that, based on my findings, during your month at the facility, they were extracting your eggs from your oaveries.”

You feel your entire body freeze. Extracting your eggs. Extracting your eggs. Taking something you have that can create life, from you.

“But only men can pass down the mutation gene.” You state, confused.

Jean nods sympathetically. “Correct but, you are a rare mutant. Not many posses an animal like mutation, specially one as feral as yours. I think -“ Jean cuts her self off.

“You think what?” You question harshly.

Jean sighs. “I believe they may have taken your eggs, which are from a strong, rare female mutant, and planned to see if they could find traces of the X-gene. And if that failed..”

Jean trails off but you’re able to figure it out. If they were unsuccedul with that, they still had eggs with your genetics. Eggs that can be mixed with a male mutants sperm and injected into some poor girls uterus. Thus engineering a mutant child they would have complete controls over.

“I - I need some time alone to process this.” You say, rising from your feet and quickly leaving the room, ignoring as Jean calls out after you.

You quickly move throughout the mansion, your room your destination in mind. You push past Scott who tries to stop you; an Ororo that looked concerned, and many teenage mutants who simply looked confused.

You finally resached your room and slammed your door shut, locking it. You rested your forehead against it, body rising and fall as your breath increased. Your mind whirling at all the possibilities of what they could have done or still be doing to your eggs filling it.

You let out a frustrated scream, right arm reaching and sending all the objects on your desk flying. Not quit satisfied at the damage, you made quick work of the small bookshelf in the corner, knocking it over with a growl.

At this point, your mutation is on full display, teeth grown and claws long. You let out another rgrowl and make a fist, sending it flying through the wall that is shared with your bathroom, your hand going through it.

Suddenly, a bang is heard and you look up to see Scott and Ororo standing there, the man having kicked it in. You turn your body towards them, growling lowly and ready for a fight.

Scott takes a step toward you, and you mimic him, ready to take him out of you need to. You watch as Ororo places her hand on his shoulder to stop him. She says something to him but your mind is still whirling you cannot comprehend what.

Your mind is solely relying on all your instincts. The human part of you is not able to cope with this discovery and has backed itself into a hole in your mind, allowing your animal side to deal with it.

And it’s dealing with it aggressively.

You watch as he sighs and nods before exiting; leaving you with the other women.

“Y/N.” She says, voice calm and low, as if talking to a scared animal.

You guess that’s what you are right now. Your instincts have taken full control of your body and kill and maim is the only action that seems to be what it wants. You want to make those suffer who hurt you. You want to slowly run your claws along every one of their arteries, watching them bleed. Then, you’d bite into their throat and take out a chunk.

“Y/N!” Ororo says, this time more stern.

It seems to gather your attention a little more, gaze shooting up to meet here eyes. They only show concern, soemthing you’ve only ever seen from one other person. Seeing them from her, it does soemthing inside of you and you break.

Your animal side seems to notice it too as soon your claws are gone and teeth back to normal. Tears immediately begin to leave your eyes and the women crosses the room to enlope you into her arms, pulling you into a hug. Your body immediately relaxes as you let out a sob.

You finally found out what happened to you but now you have to cope with it.

\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///

Tag List: @randomblogzsblog, @sebastianstanblog, @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @somiaw @sseleniaa @whyamistillontumbler

A/N: I said lots of angst… now we know what happened during readers time being held captive. Sorry about no Wolvy- next chapter I promise!!

[chelleztjs18]

Ten Days (W.M) Pt. 5

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: Y/n and Wanda is stuck in an arranged marriage. What will happen when both of them have their own deals to be done in ten days?

Warning: 18+ SMUT, swearing words, fluff, angsts (specific warning for each parts)

A/n: Well, hey there! I'm back with this series after a while. This chapter is a Valentine's gift for my sweet, Curious George anon. This is a miniseries fic that's inspired by "How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days" romcom. If you haven't read this series before, I recommend to read from part 1. (Series masterlist below) Happy reading!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

The rain is pouring. Thunders and lighting sometimes take turns to show their existence. You went straight to Wanda’s house after you spent some time with Yelena and Nat at your place to talk about the plans you have in mind.

Wanda’s heart skips a beat and her face instantly patches a smile as soon as she hears her doorbells. She rushes her steps to the door. Wanda has been waiting for you to come and she greets you with an excited smile.

“Finally! My pretty future wife—” but her smile turns to a little frown and her flirtatious words stop abruptly after she sees you soaking wet and your shoes are covered with mud.

“Hi babe!” Without giving her a chance to avoid it, you hug Wanda quickly and her clothes get a little wet from your drenched clothes. “Oh, hi wife. Why are you soaking wet and covered in mud?” she asked.

“Babe, I'm cold. Can I come in?”

“Uh y-yeah but your–your sh–.” Wanda hesitantly responds but you interrupt her by just walking into her house, leaving traces of mud and trails of dripping water all over the clean white floor.

“My what?” you play dumb. You know Wanda is internally freaking out about the mud and the water, so you walk around more. You try to look confused as you take off your jacket.

“Y-your muddy shoes. You know what darling, it’s okay. I will ask the maid to clean it.” Wanda put on a smile while trying to keep herself together to not tell you to stop walking around spreading more abstract muddy patterns. 

“Oh okay, uh where should I put this wet jacket babe? Can I just put it on the couch? I forget where the bathroom is.” You walk around in a random path before you walk closer to the white fancy expensive couch in the living room.

“Gaah, NO..No..No..No..” Wanda’s loud spontaneous NO stops your move. Good thing that Wanda is behind you and can’t see your face, you almost laugh.

Wanda chuckles awkwardly, putting a forced smile and quickly grabbing yet gently the wet jacket off your hand. She realized her reaction was a bit much but she couldn't help it. Wanda loves everything clean and spotless.

“Y/n sweetheart, uh let me take this from you and how about you take off those pretty shoes now so i can put it outside, okay?” Wanda crouches and helps you take them off. You smile, thinking how sweet she is and you feel bad but the plan must go on.

“What? You will put my shoes outside? They're expensive shoes. What if it ruins it or someone takes it?” You whine as needy as you can to annoy her.

“I know, darling. I can see that. I’ll get you a new one, okay?” she responds as she stands up, holding your dirty shoes.

“Really? You gonna get me a new one? They have some new arrivals, you're gonna get them for me too?” you try to act like materialistic girls to make her lose interest in you.

“Yes, princess.” She answers with a smile. “I would rather pay for new expensive shoes than getting my floor all dirty.” Wanda mumbles, under her breath as she turns around.

“What did you say, Wands?”

“Oh nothing. I said anything for my future wife. Just-just please stay there, y/n.” Wanda patches another awkward smile, hoping you didn’t hear what she said earlier. “Okay..okay..” You agreed in more whiny tones.

“So what happened to you on the way here?” Wanda asks as she does what she needs to do to your jacket and shoes.

“I got a flat tire, so I gotta change it.” you explained. Little does Wanda know, nothing happened. You intentionally stopped at random dirt roads nearby just enough so the rain got you wet and got you as dirty as you can.

Wanda comes back to you, stands so close and it gives you giddy feelings. “Aw, you could’ve called me, love. I would’ve helped you. Next time, if you need anything, just call me, okay?” She pushes aside your hair gently to see your face that she genuinely adores. Then her hand cups your cheek, followed by soft rubs from her thumb on it. Her smile shows automatically whenever she sees you.

Gosh, her green eyes. There is something about them that draws you. You don’t know what it is but oh well, you think it’s probably nothing. Maybe it’s just the color. You clear your throat to prevent yourself from getting lost in those charming eyes.

“Uh, Wands? I’m cold.”

Wanda quickly gets back from the trance. Both of you look a little awkward.

 “Huh? Oh yeah, yeah. I apologized, my dear. You need to shower and change clothes. The guest bathroom–”

“No, your bathroom. I don’t want to use the guest bathroom, am i still just a guest for you babe? So much for being your future wife.” you roll your eyes, showing her your pretend unamused expression.

“Uh right, right. Well, okay then. You can go to my room and use my bathroom and wear my clothes after that.”

“Sounds good. I just want cozy clothes since we are relaxing.” you demand one more time.

“Coming right up.” Wanda smiles as soon as she sees your smile.

_____

You turned on the shower to trick Wanda that you are taking a shower while you move on to the next plan.

You took out some fake pieces of hair and spread it in the bathroom floor, bathroom sink and even in the shower to leave some fake trails of your hair falls.

Thanks to Yelena’s interest in pranking others, she lets you borrow her things. You wonder what other things you can use for the plan. You take them out from your purse quietly and you read what’s written on it. Fart Cushion and Fart Spray, you shake your head a little, trying to figure out when and how these two things will work.

Then you hear Wanda is saying something from the other side of the door. “Y/n, I got the towel and clothes for you. Do you want me to put the towel in the bathroom and leave the clothes in my bed, darling? Then I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

An idea pops up in your mind right away and you want to laugh as soon as you figure out that now is the perfect time to use these two things.

“Can you wait for me until I’m done please babe? I don’t want you to be far away from me, I miss you. I’ll tell you when I’m done. You don’t miss me?” you try to sound needy and irrationally clingy.

“Wait, what? Of course I miss you. Can’t I just wait downstairs?” Wanda responds. She likes knowing you slowly got hooked into her plan deeper. Wanda never likes clingy girls but she knows better to shrug it off for the sake of her plan.

“No, I want you to be near me. Just wait there.” you pretend to be more demanding.

Wanda takes a little deep breath and agrees. “O–okay, I’ll be here.” as she sits on her bed.

While Wanda is waiting patiently in the room with some clothes and a towel for you, all of a sudden she hears something unexpectedly. Unbeknownst to her, you squeeze the cushion. Wanda was shocked with the loud sound, thinking it was from you passing some gas in the bathroom. Her eyes round up. “Oops, excuse me babe!” you said as you tried not to laugh.

“It’s okay. I didn’t hear anything, love.” Wanda tries to let her mind about it pass over her head and another same loud noise breaks out of the bathroom. “Oh my gosh.” she mumbles to herself in surprise.

“Ooops, I’m sorry.” Once again you express your fake apology. You didn’t hear anything from Wanda.

“Wands, are you still there?”

Hearing your voice looking for her, Wanda quickly gets off her bed and gets to the door. “Uh yes, I’m still here. Do you need anything?” she asks from behind the door.

You squeeze some sprays out of the bottle and to your surprise, it really stinks. It’s worse than a flatulence usually smells.“Yeah, I’m almost done. Gonna need the towel soon.” you answer as you try to hold a gag while covering your nose from the smell. You quietly dry heave in between walking back to the shower, pretending to continue your shower.

“Oh okay. I have your towel here.” Wanda signals you.

“You can come in. It’s unlocked.” You informed.

“Are you sure?” Wanda hesitantly asks.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

You heard Wanda open the door and walk in. Wanda caught off guard by a blow of soft air mixed with the smell from the spray. She vaguely scrunches her nose as the stinky aroma intrudes her senses. Her eyes rounded once more but she tried not to react to it. 

“Pffftt.. What did you eat?” Wanda mumbles. You pretend you didn’t hear it clearly. “Did you say something babe?”

“Oh? Nothing. Here you go, love. I’ll just hang it here.” Wanda is having a hard time talking while holding her breath at the same time.

You notice her being respectful and trying not to look at you but you want her to walk to you so she will notice more the smells in the bathroom. “Babe, can you bring it here please?”

“Oh okay.” She agrees half heartedly, all she wants right now is to walk out of that trapped air that bothers her nose.

She hands you the towel and her eyes give up the effort to not look at you. She sees the silhouette of your body through the opaque glass shower door. Her brain seems to forget the smells around her for a few seconds until she hears your voice and feels your hand gently tucks the towel that she still holds in her hand.

“Oh. Uh, I’m sorry. Here you go.” You smile at her when she finally lets go of the towel. Unfortunately, the nose smells the smell again and Wanda clears her throat but being the caring person she is, she asks you.

“Are you okay, love? Is your tummy upset?” as much as Wanda cares about you but she instantly regrets her question.

“No, I’m okay. What? Wait, are you saying that my gas smells?! That’s just how it usually smells.” you pretend to freak out as you walk out of the shower wrapped in a towel.

“Uh oh. No, no. I didn’t say that. Uh–the reason I asked is because I care. That’s all.” Wanda starts to panic.

You start your pretend cry and whine, you cover your face. “It’s embarrassing. If you can’t handle it, how are you gonna be married to me?”

Wanda quickly feels bad but at the same time she doesn’t want you to walk away and lose the bet either. “Aw sweetheart, that’s not true. Don’t worry.” She hugs you even though it’s getting harder for her not to take a deep breath so she won’t inhale any more uncomfortable scents.

You feel the softness of Wanda’s hands rub the skin of your back and you actually love it. What is it with Wanda’s hug? Why do you feel so comfortable in it? What’s wrong with you right now? Oh geez, as much as you want to stay longer in her embrace, unfortunately you have to get away from it before it’s getting harder to be out of her arms. You nod.

“Okay, good girl. Now, why don’t you put on some clothes so we can have our date today, yeah?” Wanda kisses the top of your head. Oh goodness gracious, her tone and the way she calls you a good girl sends something to your brain and body that you can’t explain. You never feel something like it but you try to shrug it off and think maybe it was just because the first time a woman ever called you that. It’s nothing biggie.

You pull yourself away a little from her hugs. “Okay, Wands. I’ll see you downstairs.” You smiled. As soon as Wanda walks out of the bathroom and closes the door, she quickly inhales fresh air as if her life depends on it. She exhales a relief, shakes her head after what just happened.

_____

You can see Wanda is sitting on the couch in the living room as you walk towards her. The fireplace is on, some pretty fancy snacks with a bottle of red wine complete with two glasses are waiting for you as well. Soft lights around and the soothing rain drops outside offer a very comfy vibes. As always Wanda can’t help herself to smile when she sees you, everytime she sees you she feels a very comfortable feeling that she never feels from other girls she has been with but of course Wanda tries not to acknowledge that feeling. Wanda thought maybe the smile she has when she sees you was all because she knows she would win this bet.

“Well hello there, princess. Look how cute you are with my shirt and shorts. Come here, everything’s ready for you. You just need to pick which movie or sitcom we should watch.” she gently pats the empty spots next to her.

You are really impressed with everything that Wanda has prepared. It’s everything that you like. You always would rather have this kind of date than going anywhere fancy. You sit next to her and pick something to watch.

“Wow, this is nice, babe. So fancy but you pulled this off so easily.” you commented.

“Well, anything for the special woman.” Wanda starts her flirtatious strategy. She looks into your eyes and oh that smile again, it makes you almost forget to get the plan going.

“Special huh? Well, I don’t think I feel special enough yet. I’m sure you could plan something more especially if you make your future wife get out of her busy work schedule today to be with you.” you smirk as you tell her your needy demand in a teasing way, totally opposite than what you actually think. You actually love it but right now all you can do is hoping Wanda would think that you are ungrateful and unappreciative.

Wanda doesn’t like demanding women. Independent women always catch her attention, unfortunately she hasn’t met one. Wanda tries to ignore how demanding you are right now, all to win the bet.

“Oh? You are special. I know you would like this. Are you playing hard to get, sweetheart? Hmm?” Wanda’s face gets closer and closer to you. Your heart gradually starts to race. You try to keep your focus with you while trying to get back to this banter.

“Playing hard to get? I’m not. I think you just can’t handle me. I set my bar high and you should be able to reach it if you want to marry me.” You tease her back and you didn’t realize your face gets closer to hers too.

“There you go, my sweet straightforward lady. So you are on board with our arranged marriage then? That's good news.” Wanda gives you a come back with your own remark that you have said to her a few days ago.

“Like I said, maybe yes, maybe no.” you answered and your gaze was glued to her. This time Wanda only chuckles followed with a confident smile, thinking that she still has her fingers wrapped around you and her plan slowly working better.

Before you two know it, your face and Wanda’s are merely an inch. You look at her lips, so does Wanda at yours. You quickly bring yourself together and pull back a little. You clear your throat. “Uh- Why don’t we try this red wine you got here?”

“Oh yeah, yeah. Sorry, we wouldn’t want this great wine waiting.” Wanda awkwardly agrees and  pours some in both glasses. A little thought pops in her mind thinking about another almost kiss moment that breaks her own “no kiss” rule but of course she convinces herself it was part of the plan.

WIth that, the date starts. Sometimes both of you talk about random things or anything about each other. You try to be as messy as you can by dropping some crumbs or food. You try to swing your hand that holds the glass of wine while you are talking with her to drive Wanda crazy from the thought of you spilling it on the couch or the rug. It’s quite comical for you to see how she tries to subtly to avoid that to happen and not to offend you at the same time from doing so. Another meltdown from you is the last thing Wanda wants on tonight's date. She wants to leave much much better impressions on you. Part of you think she looks cute and adorable.

You can’t lie to yourself, you are actually having a great time with Wanda. Maybe Wanda isn’t that bad? Oh no, no, no. You and Wanda are buzzed after sharing a bottle of wine and opening another one. That’s all. She is not your type, well a little but no. You have to be all cringey, annoying and unbearable to her. 

You subtly try to look around, figuring out what you can do. Suddenly, an improvised wild idea came up in your mind. Part of you is hesitant to do it but after a rapid debate internally, your mind says fuck it. 

You gotta do what you gotta do. This is all part of the plan, that’s what you tell yourself.

Wanda was very surprised with your sudden move. You instantaneously move on to her and straddle her lap then kiss her. The Sokovian brunette was caught off guard, kissing you back yet thoughts bouncing around her head. What’s going on here? Both of you let out a soft hum, feeling your bodies melt perfectly to each other. She lays her hands gently on your back and mindlessly pulls you to lean closer to her.

In between kisses, Wanda tries to tell you her thoughts with a soft whisper. “Y/n..sweetheart.” your lips catch hers again as you respond “Hm?”

Again, Wanda tries to break the kiss and speaks. “Are you sure about this? I think you are drunk.” Well, her ego would really love this, thinking that she is really much much closer to her victory on her bet with Kate. As much as she loves the feelings of your lips on her, she respects you.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Are you okay with it?.” You answered as you back out a little, deep down a little panic if you took this plan too far. Wanda looks at you and smiles. “Why wouldn’t I be okay, gorgeous?” She asks lovingly and just like that you turn to the only exception from her no kiss rule. Her hands gently cup your face. My oh my, you are lost in her ethereal eyes. Not to mention her touch. Wait, wait. Are you and Wanda having a moment here? Or perhaps we can say another moment that really you can’t explain. That was not butterflies in your stomach right now. The warmth in your heart (no, scratch that), you meant the warmth in your chest is really just because of the wine. Yes, yes, it is the wine. Not because of the kiss nor Wanda. Hell, it’s not because of the moment right now.

Wanda pulls you back into kiss, in her defense, it’s to pull you deeper in her plan. Not because she wants to or likes it.

Shortly after you remind yourself to move forward to your plan, you kiss her neck and reach to unbutton her pajamas. One by one. Wanda always loves to be in control, including in this kind of situation. You know that. Even if it has been only a few days of knowing her, you can read that. That’s why you are doing what you are doing, showing that you will be the type of wife who wears the pants in the relationship.

You are sure a needy, controlling, demanding, and clingy plus “crazy” woman is the whole package that definitely scares Wanda away in no time.

You smirk and look at her in her sports bra. Here goes nothing, your mind said.

You kiss her collar bones and as soon as your kisses reach her breasts, you do something that launches Wanda into a bigger surprise, not in a good way.

“Aaaawwwwww, look at them. Pretty twins.” You start to baby talk as your hands cup both of her breasts.

Wanda’s closed eyes open abruptly. “Wait, what?” She looks down at you very confused.

“Yeah pretty twins. I shall name you Roni!” you exclaim in more baby talk then kiss her left breast. Before Wanda can ask even further, you move on to the right breast and do the same thing as you say “And I shall name you Ami.” you give more ridiculously loud kisses.

“R-roni?? Ami?? Hold on, hold on. Y/n, my dear. Did you just– Did you just name my breasts??” Wanda looks so baffled. Trying to figure out what really is going on.

“Mmhmm. Why? You don’t like it?” You answered in a fake innocent face and pout.

“No, no. Uh I–I do. It’s cute, really, but uh, don’t you think it’s a bit a mood killer?” Wanda carefully crafts her words and then smiles awkwardly.

“Mood killer?? What do you mean? That’s rude, I was being romantic and sexy with you in our sexy time.” you retort while actually you really want to laugh. You are having fun seeing Wanda’s reaction.

“I know. I know, but naming my breast and baby talk to them? Where in the world did you get the name ideas anyway??” You can see from her face that what you just did really cringes her.

“It’s from my favorite luncheon meat, Roni is short for pepperoni and Ami is short for Salami.” You are really proud of yourself for coming up with this idea and can’t wait to tell Natasha and Yelena about it.

“Oh God. Pep–pepperoni? Salami? But you are vegan, Y/n?!Few days ago you cried because of the meat I cooked for dinner and now you name my breasts with meat names?” Wanda rambles, frustration starts to show bit by bit.

“Then you would prefer Melonie and Coco? You know, because of the perfect round shape and size.” You nonchalantly offer her different name ideas and explain them with a little shrug. Right now you are trying to look innocent. A stark difference from how you were earlier as if you have different personalities.

Of course, it lures out more of Wanda’s reaction. “What? MELON and COCONUT?? Mine are not ridiculously big like them.” Wanda argues. Shade of red blush covers her cheeks as she crosses both of her palms to cover her breasts in such embarrassment and disagreement.

“Aaaaww. Okay okay. What about Squashy and Squishy, then? Squashy, because squash is my favorite vegetable and Squishy because yours are squishy.” you are back to baby talk and your hands playfully cups Wanda’s breasts.

Wanda looks at you in disbelief at what you just said and she lays her head back on the couch as her right fingers massage the bridge of her nose. “Aaaand it died. It just died.” Said Wanda referring to her mood on the “sexy time” with you 

“What? What died, babe?” You play dumb with your question. You know what she meant.

“Uh, nothing. Y/n, how about we call it a night, yeah? I’m tired, I got pretty buzzed earlier. I have things to do at the office tomorrow too.” Luckily, your plan works and you are glad that you can finally go home.

“Really? That’s all the date you said you prepared so special for me? Okay. I guess, I’m gonna go home then.” You pretend to look upset and disappointed.

“Oh no, no. You are not driving home now, sweetheart. It’s late now. You are drunk, it’s still pouring rain outside and you got a car problem earlier. So stay the night here please. I’ll ask the maid to get the guest room ready for you.” Wanda leaves you no room to refuse but you have to get out of here. Once again, you have to think quickly how to refuse her.

“Guest room? Really? Me, your future wife, sleeps in the guest room. That’s upsetting. I’m just gonna go home.” You pretend to cry for no reason and you quickly get off her lap so you can get ready to leave.

Her gaze follows where you walk to the door. “Where else are you supposed to sl—?” she halts her words when she realizes why you are leaving so upset. Wanda can’t let you leave upset from the date, it’s too risky for her.

She gets up quickly and tries to stop you. “Okay, okay. You can sleep in my room, on my bed..with me. Yeah? Sounds good? Yes yes, sounds much better than driving drunk in the rain. I won’t let anything happen to my woman.” Wanda agrees and gives full effort to make you stay.

You have no other excuse to leave so like it or not, you stay. You are just surprised with how determined Wanda is. On second thought, you think that she is right. It might be safer to stay the night.

_____

“Oookay, the bed is ready for you, love. You’ll sleep on the left side and I’ll sleep on the right side. Here’s your pillow and I have another blanket here if you need it. I’m going to brush my teeth right now and get ready for bed.” Wanda tells you as she just got done preparing the bed for you. 

You wanted to be needier and make the sleeping side of the bed a big deal but you are thinking you don’t want to look that bad in front of Wanda. Wait, what’s wrong with you? That’s the goal of this whole plan. Why would you even think that way? Okay, maybe you just want to be annoying in a more logical way. Yeah that’s probably it. 

You lay on your side, on the bed. Letting your back facing Wanda. Trying not to sleep too close with her when she comes back.

While you are trying to get comfy in bed, you hear Wanda from the bathroom.

Wanda is freaking out about what she discovers as soon as she gets to the bathroom. For a clean freak like her, it looks like a horror for her. Your wet dirty clothes are on the floor, your “hair” is on the floor, on the bathroom sink and even stick on the shower glass door.

Your plan definitely works because you heard her muffled voice in the bathroom freaking out saying “Oh no..no..no.. Oh Lord. Why is it so messy? Who lives like this? Calm down, Wanda. It’s nothing big.”

You laugh silently but as soon as you hear her walk out of the bathroom, you pretend to sleep. You heard her taking a deep breath to calm herself down.

Wanda finally lays down on the bed. “Good night, Y/n.” she gently says it but no answer from you so she assumes that you are asleep. You hear her whisper to herself. “What a night.”

You can’t really sleep but you pretend every now and then to snore loudly and make weird noises while you are “sleeping”. You toss and turn as well just so it will seem like it’s hell to sleep with you.

It was hard for Wanda to fall asleep because of what you are doing. She couldn’t believe how loud you snored but eventually both of you finally fell asleep.

Pt. 6

A/n: Welp, thats it for today! Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. Follow me for more and see you in next!

Cheerio!

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[visionsoffutile]

Running in circles chapter 5:

The weekend passed in a haze of slow shifts at the music store and late-night thoughts that wouldn’t leave you alone. The quiet hum of the turntable, the familiar scent of vinyl, none of it was enough to drown out the memory of Regina’s words.

"Why you’re not falling at my feet like they do."

It replayed in your mind more than you wanted it to. You had stared into those ice-blue eyes, trying to figure out whether she was playing her usual mind games or if there was something more behind them. Despite your best efforts to shake it off, a part of you couldn’t stop thinking about that moment in the store. You had glimpsed something vulnerable in Regina—a crack in her usual mask—and it made her more intriguing than ever.

But today was Monday, and school was back in session. The dull buzz of the day filled your senses as you moved from class to class, hoping gym would be as uneventful as the rest. You weren’t in the mood for drama.

Gym class. You weren’t one of those people who dreaded it, but you didn’t love it either. Running laps around the track wasn’t the worst way to kill time, especially with your headphones in, tuning out the world. You could zone out, focus on the steady rhythm of your feet hitting the ground, the pulse of the music in your ears, and forget about everything else.

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the track. You kept a steady pace, your playlist keeping you locked in your own world. A slow, methodical beat. Footsteps in time with the music. No distractions.

That was until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, you glanced over, pulling one earbud out. You almost stopped dead in your tracks when you saw who was running beside you—Regina George.

She was effortlessly keeping pace, looking annoyingly composed despite the heat. Her blonde hair was tied up in a high ponytail, not a single strand out of place, and her North Shore High gym uniform somehow looked better on her than it did on anyone else. As usual, she radiated control, like nothing could touch her.

You removed your second earbud, confusion and curiosity swirling in your mind. “Regina?” you asked, breath slightly heavy from running. You slowed your pace slightly, and she mirrored you, still keeping stride. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” she replied, her voice annoyingly steady. “I’m running.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly, not buying it. Regina George didn’t just run with random people. There had to be more to it. You glanced around to see if any of her friends were nearby, waiting to laugh at some prank she was about to pull. But no one else seemed to be paying attention to the two of you.

“Well, congrats,” you said, trying to play it cool. “You found the track.”

She smirked, that same unreadable expression playing on her lips—the one that said she was always two steps ahead of everyone else. “Funny,” she said, though her tone didn’t sound like she was laughing.

You weren’t sure what her angle was, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was about what happened over the weekend. You turned your gaze forward, picking up your pace slightly. “So, what do you want, Regina?”

For a moment, she didn’t answer, just kept running beside you, her breaths controlled and even. Finally, she spoke, her voice quiet but clear. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

You almost tripped over your own feet.

"What?"

You glanced over at her, surprised, but she wasn’t looking at you. Her eyes were focused ahead, as if she were carefully choosing her words.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, though your mind was racing. Regina George—*thinking* about you? It didn’t make sense.

She shrugged, but it wasn’t casual. There was something deliberate in the way she did it, like she was testing you. “You’re... different,” she said, her eyes briefly flicking to meet yours. “You don’t fall into line like everyone else. You don’t care what people think.”

You kept running, the steady thud of your shoes hitting the pavement helping you process what she was saying. It wasn’t like Regina to compliment anyone—not without some kind of ulterior motive. But there was no hint of her usual sarcasm, no cold detachment in her tone.

“You didn’t care what Gretchen said about me,” she continued, her voice softer now. “Most people wouldn’t ignore her.”

You ran in silence for a few seconds, the weight of her words settling between you. You thought back to the store, to the way she had looked at you, that strange vulnerability she had shown for just a moment.

“Maybe I just want to see you for myself,” you said, shrugging. “I’m not interested in the rumors or the reputation.”

She glanced at you, and for the first time, you saw something that looked almost like approval. “Most people are,” she said, her voice low. “You’re not like them.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You weren’t used to Regina being... sincere. Was it genuine? Or was it just another one of her tests?

You slowed down, breathing a little heavier now as you came to the last stretch of the track. Regina stayed with you, still looking as composed as ever.

“So, why me?” you asked, deciding to be direct. “You have your friends, your minions. Why bother with me?”

Regina was quiet for a long moment, her face unreadable again. You thought she might brush it off, say something dismissive, but instead, she surprised you.

“Because I don’t get it,” she said, her voice just loud enough for you to hear. “I don’t get you.”

She stopped running, and so did you, both of you standing at the edge of the track, your breaths heavy in the thick afternoon air. Her words hung between you, filled with something more than just curiosity.

“Maybe you don’t need to,” you said, after a beat, locking eyes with her.

For the first time since you met her, Regina didn’t have a quick comeback. She just stood there, studying you, as if you were a puzzle she hadn’t figured out yet. Finally, she smirked, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes this time.

“Maybe,” she said, turning on her heel and walking away, leaving you standing at the edge of the track, watching her retreating figure.

---

The last stretch of the run was quiet. You were still replaying Regina's words in your head as the two of you ran the final lap. "I don't get you." It lingered, gnawing at the back of your mind, raising more questions than answers. What was she after?

You peeled off the track and headed to the locker room, drenched in sweat and more confused than ever. The cool, tiled floors and the scent of body spray greeted you as you stepped inside. The other students were still filtering in slowly, chatting loudly, their laughter echoing through the space.

You found your locker near the back of the room and began to change out of your gym clothes, slipping on your shirt. As you reached for your bag, the locker room emptied out, and you realized you were alone. Or at least, you thought you were. That’s when you heard the familiar click of heels on the hard floor behind you.

You turned, already knowing who it was before you saw her.

Regina.

She stood there, leaning against the row of lockers, her gym uniform looking perfectly pressed despite having just run laps. She had that same unreadable look in her eyes, arms crossed, lips slightly curved—not quite a smirk but not a smile either. The other girls must have already left, leaving just the two of you in the dim light of the locker room.

“Are you following me, or is this a coincidence?” you asked, trying to keep your voice casual despite the strange tension building in the room.

Regina raised an eyebrow, pushing off the lockers and walking closer, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the quiet space. “I don’t do coincidences,” she said simply, her eyes never leaving yours.

You swallowed, turning back to your locker to grab your things, pretending not to be affected by her presence. But you could feel her eyes on you, watching, waiting.

“So, what is this?” you asked, your back still turned to her. “You trying to figure me out again?”

There was a pause before she answered, and you could almost feel the air shift as she came closer. “Maybe,” she said, her voice lower now, more intimate in the quiet of the empty locker room. “Or maybe I’m just curious why you’re still pretending you’re not interested.”

You stopped, turning around to face her. “Interested?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “In what?”

Regina took a step forward, closing the gap between you. Her blue eyes were sharp, but there was something else there too—something softer, more vulnerable, just beneath the surface. “In me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper now, the challenge clear in her tone.

Your breath caught for a moment. She was close now—closer than she had been on the track. You could feel the heat radiating off her skin, the scent of her perfume, still light and floral despite the workout. The locker room felt too small suddenly, the air thick with the tension that had been simmering between you both since that first moment in the music store.

“You think I’m interested?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heart was racing in your chest.

Regina smiled then, but it wasn’t the cold, detached smirk she usually wore. It was something softer, almost playful. “I think you’re intrigued,” she said, her gaze flicking to your lips for the briefest of moments before meeting your eyes again. “And I think you don’t like that you are.”

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, but you kept your cool. “And what if I’m not?” you countered, your voice calm, though you knew you weren’t fooling either of you.

Regina’s smile widened, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she were enjoying this little game. “You are,” she said confidently, taking another step forward, leaving only inches between you now. “Why else would you still be here?”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you couldn’t think of a response. The truth was, she wasn’t wrong. You *were* intrigued. You had been since the moment she walked into the music store. But that didn’t mean you were going to let her win so easily.

“Maybe I just like messing with you,” you shot back, holding her gaze, refusing to let her see the effect she was having on you.

Regina let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You think you’re messing with me?” she asked, her voice dripping with amusement. She took one more step forward, closing the space between you completely. “No one messes with me.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. She was so close now that you could feel her breath on your skin, her presence completely enveloping you. It was overwhelming, and for a split second, you thought about stepping back, about creating space between you.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you stood your ground, meeting her gaze head-on. “Maybe I’m not like everyone else,” you said quietly, the tension between you both almost suffocating now.

Regina’s eyes flickered with something—recognition, maybe even respect. For a moment, the world seemed to stop, the two of you standing there in the middle of the empty locker room, locked in some kind of unspoken standoff. It was as if the air itself was waiting to see who would make the next move.

Then, just as quickly as it had started, Regina stepped back. The tension broke, leaving you both standing there in the aftermath. She tilted her head slightly, that familiar smirk back in place.

“Maybe you are,” she said softly, her tone laced with something almost...admiring. “We’ll see.”

Without another word, she turned and walked toward the exit, the sound of her footsteps echoing through the now-quiet locker room. You watched her go, your heart still pounding in your chest, unsure of what had just happened—but certain that whatever this was, it was far from over.

As the door swung shut behind her, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, staring at the empty space where she’d been just moments before.