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live-laugh-lenney · 19 days ago

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LOCKED IN | ARTHUR FREDERICK

a whole year and it's finally with you! thank you for all your patience and all your lovely messages and comments about this new chaptered fic; i'm so incredibly excited (and incredibly nervous) to share it with you and show you the project i've been working on these last twelve months. i wanted it to be absolutely perfect before you got your hands on it. feedback is always welcomed and my inbox is always open so please, please, please don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts on the story. enjoy! <33

- C H A P T E R O N E -

“I’m actually terrified.”

The black car, donned with the FootAsylum logo that had been printed on the back passenger doors, rolled up the gravel driveway and stopped before a modern-looking home hidden deep in the countryside of a place she could tell was hours from home. With her phone being taken away and with nothing to keep her occupied, except picking at her nails nervously or chewing on the inside of her mouth, she couldn’t keep track of the hours she’d been sat in the car… but given the numb bum and the sickly feeling from the rumble of the car and having nothing to eat due to her nerves, she would have guessed her travel time had been, at least, two hours. Studio lights littered around to keep the grounds lit so everyone knew where they were going, the house being illuminated and almost in a spotlight to give it a real studio vibe, and it had finally set in her mind rather quickly that this was her reality for the next two weeks. The nerves that she tried to hide, swallowing back every lump in her throat and ignoring every bad thought that crossed her mind, were slowly coming back to haunt her and her knees couldn’t stop bouncing in the footwell in the back seat.

“This is terrifying.”

Once the car came to a stop at the end of the driveway, she took a moment to herself.

The driver sat in the front, plugging in a destination into his built-in sat-nav that would either be taking him home or back to a building where the producers and the directors of the show were all huddled inside, yet she couldn’t bring herself to be nosey. And as her hand came to clasp around the handle of the backdoor, she could see her hand shuddering with uncertainty. There was no chance she was backing out of this opportunity now; it was the first day and she wanted to prove to people she could do this. That she was worthy of a place in the house. Having been on the Youtube scene for just over 12 months, she never thought her first year would end in her being part of a reality show centred around those with huge followings and a name for themselves and she wanted to show how serious she was about taking any given opportunity in her grasp and enjoying every moment life had to offer her.

Once she saw who she was going to be locked into a home with for two weeks, she did some digging on just who they were, putting a face to a name and googling them in hopes to find their social media accounts. Gaining the basic information and following their Instagrams and subscribing to their Youtube channels so she could scope out everyone as to not seem so clueless once she walked into the house.

So she knew of a few of them.

It was nerve-wrackingly brand-new for her and it was something she never imagined herself doing when she posted her very first Youtube video just a short twelve months ago; being pushed into a house with nine other Youtubers who were practically strangers to her and, in that moment and before she met then, it was something she considered to be almost as bad as a worst nightmare.

The gravel rocks and the tiny stones of the pathway crunched beneath her trainers as she neared where she assumed the front door to the house was. Her eyes scanned across the wooden panelling of the front and she truly felt like an idiot, even more so because of the cameras hidden in every nook and cranny around her that would pick up her dumbfounded moments, as she tried to find a door handle or a doorbell that would somehow get her into the warmth of the house. The black bag on her shoulder which she, and the entire cast of the second season, had been asked to advertise as they walked up the entrance, kept slipping down to her elbow and eventually she gave up adjusting it and just let it swing to and fro as she questioned everything happening before her.

“How the hell do I get in? Is this a challenge or something? I feel like I’m being punked here.”

There was a gentle change in the way the wall was built and she pushed a panel to make the front door more noticeable, revealing the entrance hallway of the place that was going to be her new home for the next fortnight. Light strips coloured with neon green lighting her way, stuck to the walls and almost guided her in the right direction of where everyone else seemed to have congregated, fitting the whole aesthetic and colour theme of how the show was advertised and promoted on the outside world. Lots of monochrome, blacks and whites, with a burst of colour that surrounded her. The heat of the inside immediately hit her as she stepped foot into the hallway and let the door close behind her with a whoosh, shutting by itself once it hit the frame of the doorway. The lights were bright, as opposed to the scenery of the sun setting upon her arrival, and she could hear the chaos of everyone already enjoying themselves and introducing themselves further to each other - and she secretly prayed that she wasn’t the last one to enter the house.

She took the chance to have a quiet glance around at where she was before she made her way into the centre of the house, cautious as she looked around to make sure no one was hiding and ready to jump out and make her jump, because that was the one thing she absolutely hated and she definitely would have held a grudge, mentally planning the next move in an unproposed prank war between herself and the housemates.

“There’s someone coming.”

“Guys, someone’s here!”

“Someone new!”

“Finally!”

“That makes ten of us. I reckon that’s all of us here.”

YN stood still on the spot, taking in the deepest intake of breath to prepare herself before she exhaled slowly through puckered lips, trying to rid herself of the nerves that were sitting low in her stomach and making her feel sick, to keep her heart from racing and thumping rapidly in her chest.

When she was first asked to be one of the housemates for that year, she thought it looked fun and she was always up for trying new things and stepping out of her comfort zone. She was the biggest advocate for telling people, through her Youtube videos, that they should try out new things because they’ll never know how they feel unless they gave it a go. She shook her limbs to rid the nerves making her shake and she rolled her neck, giving herself the quickest pep-talk in her mind, and she took the last few steps from the room she was standing in and into, what she could only guess was, their kitchen and dining area together.

“Hi!”

“Oh my god, hi!”

“Hello!”

She was overwhelmed with the greetings, dropping her plastic FootAsylum bag to the floor and feeling the warm embrace of someone instantly wrapping their arms around her, a sweet and floral smell of someone’s perfume filling her nose as she reciprocated the hug, long hair tickling at her nose. Her eyes darted from face to face, slightly overwhelmed yet the feeling had slowly felt less suffocating and she took the chance to bolden her demeanour. The males taking their time to come forward and introduce themselves yet the females wasted no time in wanting to get to know her, patiently waiting for their time to bring her into a hug and find out more about her.

“I’m Anastasia,” the girl introduced herself and YN introduced herself in response, and she gave YN one final squeeze before pulling away, stepping aside for someone else to take her place. YN had seen Anastasia on her Youtube recommendations, at a time when she started gaining inspiration on how she wanted to run her channel and a long while back when it was just a mere thought, and it was nice to be given the chance to meet her on a more personal level than just what she showed for the cameras and for her vlogs. “It’s so good to finally meet you!”

A short queue-like crowd of eight other people had formed around her and the nerves that had been sitting in her belly had almost disappeared once she realised they were all in the same boat - no one really knew anyone in this place, they were all there to get to know one another and they were all there to fight for the winning place. They were all there for the same reasons, all going through the same thing, feeling the same feelings and experiencing the experience together so it made everything feel much less intimidating.

She hugged everyone around her, introducing herself as they introduced themselves, and they seemed like a truly good bunch of people to spend the next fourteen days with and she was excited to form special friendships with the whole lot of them.

One guy hung behind from the introductions, waiting incredibly patiently, dressed in all black with the sleeves of his hoodie hiding his hands as his fingers played with the hem in a nervous manner. Brown hair upon his head, tousled and messy, and the most engaging brown eyes that didn’t seem to leave her face as he drank in everything about her. Every inch of his face was beautiful looking, sculpted perfectly, with the curve of the tip of his nose looking soft and the stretch of skin across his cheeks looking rosy and pink. She felt a connection to him, she felt easy around him without even knowing his name, and it was a feeling she couldn’t get rid of as if there was something that intrigued her about him that she was desperate to figure out.

“I’m Arthur. ArthurTV,” he grinned, almost hesitating as he went in to give her a hug, but barely resisting when she wrapped her arms around his neck and initiated the greeting between the two of them, forearms resting on his shoulders as her hands joined at the back of his neck, “it’s so lovely to meet you.”

“I’m YN,” she smiled softly to herself, reading off her Youtube name in a similar fashion to how he had introduced himself and he snickered softly as she pulled away from him and broadened the gap between their two bodies, “it’s lovely to meet you, too, Arthur.”

“Did you struggle as much as me to find the entrance to this place? Because I must have looked like a massive tit to the cameras when I walked straight past the entrance and round the corner in hopes I’d find a backdoor or something,” he admitted, a laugh following in suit as she giggled and shook her head, “honestly, I just hope everyone else did the same.”

“It took me ages to find the door. I didn’t walk past it but I just stood there, staring at it, trying to figure out what the hell was happening. Thought that if I stared long enough, I’d see into a void and it would just appear,” she admitted and shook her head at how silly she was going to look in the eyes of those watching when it went live over on Youtube, “we can both look like tits together, I guess. Great first impressions to the public and all.”

“I do say that we make quite the perfect pair,” he joked, internally wanting to crawl into a hole and disappear at how corny he must have sounded, except she laughed at his attempt at humour and he swore he felt butterflies in his belly, “come and get to know everyone properly. We think you were the last person to join us now there’s ten of us standing here.”

So she was the last.

She knew it.

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It was Spuddz’s idea.

“Hot Seat! Let’s do Hot Seat.”

And YN couldn’t lie, the volume at which he suggested it had woken her up a little from her daze.

Her eyelids felt really heavy and her eyes were stinging, almost screaming at her to give in to the temptation of snoozing and go to nap, and that was probably due to the lack of sleep she’d gotten the night before her arrival into the house. Because all night, all she could think about was the worst of what was about to happen. In a situation unknown to her, with people she didn’t know well enough, all she could think about was how she’d be an outcast compared to everyone else.

She didn’t want to be the first one to announce her departure from the room, disappearing and missing out on the rest of the evening, just because she needed an hour's shuteye to feel a little more refreshed. But the warmth between the arm of the sofa and having Arthur seated beside her was enough to lull her into a state of complete peace and relaxation, almost completely at ease with everyone, listening to everything that was happening around her and chiming in with her own questions whenever she was prompted with something when they spoke about something that piqued her interest in the matter.

Arthur had been her saviour in the first few hours of being in the Locked In house.

She hadn’t been glued to his hip for the entirety of the evening… although she thought she had been. Since their first hello’s were shared just a few hours prior, she felt magnetised towards him. She wasn’t sure what it was about him but she felt like she could be herself around him… maybe it was because he had taken time to greet her and introduce himself, maybe it was because they had common traits that made them feel comfortable with each other, maybe it was because she found him attractive and wanted to get to know him more. She couldn’t put her finger on anything definite but he made her feel a sense of confidence within herself. Like she could do anything that FootAsylum threw at her.

She had taken time to pop over to the girls of the house and have a chat with them so she could understand who they were and what their personalities were like. And she had been indulged in a joke war with SomeJokeman when he broke their awkward silence by cracking out a ‘Knock Knock’ joke for her to answer. But she always found herself always gravitating back towards the brown-haired, brown-eyed man who kept himself to himself and let others involve him rather than forcing himself in conversations happening around him. He was the one who had shown her around the house, the one who let her know what bed was free and who had claimed certain spots to be theirs and he was the one who let her take in the surroundings on her own accord.

The late afternoon hours had passed by, although they had no idea on what the time was, and it felt like they’d known each other for longer than a mere few hours. Where everyone was bouncing off questions and getting to know one another in a setting that was getting quite loud and confusing, the suggestion of getting to know one another at the pace of one at a time was something they could all agree upon.

“We’re gonna put Jamie in the hot seat first,” Spuddz informed, letting the lad stand up from his place on the sofa and in front of everyone, “please, young man, state your name for the audience.”

“My name’s Jamie, otherwise known as LDN Movements,” he started off, clapping his hands and clasping them together in front of him in a nervous way, “is this how we do this? You ask me questions and I just answer them?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Spuddz nodded, “like an interrogation.”

And it began from there.

Question after question came out, and she couldn’t fault him and everyone else with how they dealt with the quickfire questions being thrown at them from all areas of the lounge room. Answering with detail and speaking with gusto and enthusiasm as they all took the chance to get to know one another; finding out what they were like as a person, what their Youtube careers was based upon, what they did when they weren’t filming and what their hobbies and passions in life were.

“YN! Our last little newcomer,” Steph grinned at her from the sofa on the right, wiggling her fingers in an attempt to get her to stand to her feet and take her place before everyone, “it’s your turn, darling.”

She sighed in feigned dramatics, rolling her head back against the sofa before smirking and standing to her feet, much to Arthur’s dismay as he felt the cold air take over where her warmth had once been.

“I’m YN, as you already know,” she smiled, drawing out a long curtsey before everyone, “I don’t really do very much, to be honest. I started out on Instagram, gained myself a good following of young people who were interested in reviews of different daily products and skincare routines and such, and I went from there. I’m a lifestyle Youtuber, I guess. Moved my content into a much longer form instead of small Instagram videos and stories.”

“What is a ‘lifestyle Youtuber’?” Johnny asked, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on the palms of his hands, “I’ve never really heard of that.”

“I basically just vlog about my life? I don’t know how to explain it,” she felt her cheeks getting hot under Johnny’s gaze and she stared at the floor beneath the lightened oak coffee table in the centre of the room, “I film bits of my day, what I do, I never understand why people enjoy watching videos about my life but… they got me here. Which, of course, I’m so thankful for. So many opportunities have come my way since then and it’s all because of them.”

When she posted her first video, a ‘get to know me’ post that consisted of a compilation of frequently asked questions from her Instagram page that people wanted to know about her, she had no idea that she would be where she is now. A video where she opened up and shared more about herself and her personal life - from the quick and easy questions about her relationship status and her family life and where she grew up and what she studied in school to what she wants out of life and where she sees herself in five years time and what she thinks is the biggest issue in the world as we know it - had gotten her onto a pedestaled platform where, for the year, she had been able to share her tips and her tricks in how to get by in certain scenarios.

She vlogged her daily life, from the moment she woke up in the morning to the moment she laid her head down on her pillow at night, and people loved to see what she got up to. Her friends became constant guests in her videos, partaking in small challenges and Q and A’s that were topical to whoever she had on screen, and her fans loved to see her in her social group where she let her true enjoyment and her true self be seen.

She loved what she did.

She was lucky to be where she was.

She had a supportive following who loved her, supported her, made sure to help boost her name into the general public and she repaid them back by giving them back the amount of love that they gave to her.

And she wouldn’t change any of it for the world.

“Here, here,” Jamie cheered, “very lucky to have people watch us and support whatever we choose to do.”

“I don’t think any of us would be here,” YN pointed to the exact spot she was standing in with both of her pointer fingers, “without our subscribers and our followers. I thank my lucky stars every single day that I am where I am.”

Steph cooed softly at the words YN let slip off her tongue and she suddenly felt very open and vulnerable.

“Do you just post videos about a day in your life? Do you do challenge videos or react videos or anything like that?” Arthur asked, also following in suit of Johnny and leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees and cupping his own face with his palms and as similarly as they were sat, she could look into Arthur’s eyes and speak to him, “do you just do reviews or?”

“I just do reviews, yeah. I don’t really focus much on the internet world and celebrities but more the real world and I just have a chat with the camera as if I was talking to my followers personally. I talk about topics people are chatting about all the time, what people comment about, and what’s trending. Whenever I get asked to do advertisements and such, I review different make-up products, skin care products, I show off my bedtime routine and my make-up routine and what products I use for skincare. I get sent clothes from various brands and do mini hauls, in the summer and the winter, on what I like and what suits me and what I would wear for specific occasions,” she grinned softly, “I should get you guys on. I think I could definitely use Arthur as a dummy to test out different make-up looks.”

Arthur blushed and shook his head, cackling softly, “I think you’re the more beautiful one out of us. You don’t need me to ruin it.”

“Arthur has rizz, you know!” Jokeman bellowed from beside him, clapping him on the shoulder as he blushed in his seat, “this is like a dating show, I’m telling you. Watch this space! Locked In is the new Love Island.”

There’s a chime that brings the conversation to a halt, saving Arthur from any more embarrassment from what the others had to tease him about, with the screen lighting up on the wall with an announcement, in the form of a tweet from Twitter, appearing on the screen.

From the moment she arrived, YN had been craving a bed.

As soon as her head hit the plush cushion at the height of the bed, her slippers having been kicked off at the side and her pillows plumped up so she could sleep a little more upright, she could feel her eyes getting heavier and heavier as she got more and more comfortable. Watching as everyone else readied themselves for bed, with make-up free faces and blankets wrapped around their shoulders, dressed in the comfiest of clothing as they went about their nightly routine. Teeth being brushed, faces being washed, clambering into bed before the lights went out.

To one side of her, she had Anastasia.

To the other side, she had Arthur.

A grin on his lips as he made eye contact with her from beneath the duvet that was pulled up to his chest, hair tousled and his fringe sticking to his slightly damp forehead from where he’d washed his face, cheeks red from where he had scrubbed his skin with a cleansing wash. Her cheeks flushing red once she realised he was looking at her and she giggled softly and shook her head at him, pulling her own duvet to her chin and nestling a little further down on the mattress.

“It was good meeting you, YN.”

“You say that like we’re gonna be apart forever after we close our eyes. Like we’re just gonna die and never wake up,” she snorted, rolling onto her side to face him better, “sucks for you that you’re gonna be stuck with me in here for the next two weeks.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad to me,” he hummed, closing his eyes and pretending to fall asleep, leaving her in a slight state of shock as she took in what he had said so nonchalantly.

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bunny-jpeg · 5 months ago

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Hi bunny, I recently found ur page and have been binge reading ur posts, you’re so good!! I have a big order. Peach cake, Red velvet cupcake and a pound cake with strawberries. With a side of with dark hot chocolate and a glass of water, George Russell🙈… if it’s too many details do it however you want bcuz your writing is amazing <3

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i love getting orders! i accept more than just formula one so i'm always happy to try different fandoms. so please! check it out! and thank you lovely anon, i'm happy you love my work! and thank you for submitting a george russell order because i've gotten people asking for him! so thank you! i hope you love it <3

peach cake: ("if you spill a drop, we start all over.") + red velvet cupcake: ("if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one.") + pound cake with strawberries: ("you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again.") + dark hot chocolate: (sub!reader) + glass of water: (aftercare) served by george russell (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, sub!reader & dom!george, rules & punishments, spanking, sparkling water, jealousy, aftercare, doggy style,

"you're so lucky, honestly he sounds like a prince charming!" you once heard from someone when you were talking about your boyfriend, "george just seems like such a sweet guy. like he double checked to make sure that roses wouldn't make your cat sick? most guys can barely get flowers!"

you felt your ears burn at her words and nervously played with the bracelet around your left wrist. there was on charm on it, letter 'g' for your beloved. your boyfriend, your biggest fan.

your dom, george russell.

but even men who looked like princes in fairy tales could be a little jealous. george often appeared himself to be a very sweet guy, who'd never actually hurt someone. he was a force on the track and would do what he needed to win, but he'd never put his hands on another driver. he'd never get in their face or try to get violent.

but as he watched lando norris try his hardest to pick you up, george really wanted to knock some sense into the driver. just because a woman didn't wear a neon sign that said 'taken', it didn't mean they were free game to flirt with.

and you, the future mrs. russell, should know better. even though the weight of the bracelet you wore wasn't too much. he hoped that it was enough of a reminder to behave. listen to the rules that george had laid out for you.

when lando touched your bare arm, and you stepped back a little. george knew that he had to step in. he was at your side rather quickly, smiling at lando. he wrapped an arm around you.

"see you've met my girlfriend, mate." he smiled, putting all of his charm into it, "i was looking for her." his hand snaked to your ass and you gave it a firm squeeze. you weren't off the hook.

"oh this is-" lando looked at you, "i didn't recognize her, mate. i'm so sorry!"

george was a little unconvinced when he replied,"yeah, a haircut can do that." even though you hadn't styled your hair differently in years. george didn't get too aggressive with the fellow driver because now that he was close to him, he could see that the drink in his hand was large and his stance implied it wasn't the first one of the evening.

but, george made sure that you didn't have a drop of alcohol. so while lando was drunk, you were well aware of the rules that your dom had set for you. the driver leaned to your ear and said, ""you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again."

and you swallowed, knowing you'd get a lecture when your boyfriend steered you away from the drunken racer. you felt the tip of your ears grow hot and you played with the bracelet. despite how nervous you felt, george was all smiles as he told lando to have a good night.

as you walked away, your lover's voice was hot in your ear, "no flirting. remember? you are mine, and i don't need other men getting their hands on you." he held you by the back. he kissed your cheek softly, "when rules are broken, there are punishments." this was part of your dynamic.

you knew there would be a punishment when you got home and you were right. a bottle of sparkling water from the grocery store was opened. and with you on your knees, opened your mouth. this was a punishment of endurance and being unbreakable. george poured a mouthful in your mouth then closed your jaw. he said, "if you spill a drop, we start all over."

you nodded before you got up onto your feet. your legs shaky as he put the bottle down on the nightstand. you held the water in your mouth as you got over his lap. you could feel his hard cock against your stomach. the goal of the punishment was to hold the water in your mouth even if the carbonation made your eyes run. and george spanked you for every infraction you did.

"you're a whore." he said as he rubbed your bare ass. he stripped you down to nothing as soon as you got home. you were to be laid out naked for him. he on the other hand was still in the shirt and slacks fro the party. it only added to the dynamic, you were exposed for him while he got to stay dressed. he slapped your ass, "you're a whore, you let norris get his hands all over you. you know if you let him suck on your pretty breasts or fuck your poor pussy, you'd be thrown away by the next day." he landed another spank across your ass.

you whimpered, trying to hold the water in your mouth. the spanks made it hard to not choke on it or have to drip out of your mouth. the bubbles of it made you feel discomfort in your face. but you had to be good.

"but not me. i'd never do that to you." he said softly, "you are my treasure. you know there's rules, that you have to be well behaved for me. or else we're going to have problems. you're my girlfriend, my love, my submissive." he landed a few more spanks across your ass, he watched your body shake with each of his slaps. but you didn't spill a drop.

the knowledge of that made george smile to himself. it wasn't hard to train you to be an amazing sub, you were always so eager to make him proud. you took your punishments with grace. he landed a few more smacks across your ass, "but you are my whore in the end. my responsibility to teach and fuck." he groped your bruised ass which made you whine.

you kicked out your legs as if you were trying to say that you weren't a whore. that you were a good girl, but it was only met with another hard smack across your cheeks. you arched your back and whined more.

"if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one." he said as a warning. he took you by the jaw to look at him. your craned your neck to get a good look at your prince charming. he smiled, "swallow. then hands and knees."

you swallowed and nodded happily. and like a good girl, you opened your mouth to show you swallowed it all. you earned a pat on the cheek, which made you melt a little. you got off his lap, leaving pussy slick across his black slacks.

george noticed it and chuckled lightly before he started to unbutton his shirt. you were a messy little slut, but george adored you. he was only rough because he knew it was best for you. you were a smart girl, you just needed reminders. once he was out of his clothes, he saw you with your hips raised. ready for him as always.

"my beautiful girl." he said as got himself behind you on his knees. he admired your beauty from behind. he could feel the heat of the bruises on your ass when he placed his hand across one of the cheeks. oh, you were perfect for him, "see, norris could never have you like this. no, no. he wouldn't know what do with himself. he'd probably finish before he started." he chuckled as he gave your ass a pat. he pushed his cock all the way into you, you were beyond soaked that it was so easy for him

he started to move his hips, he pushed you into the covers by your shoulders and had the perfect angle to fuck you. you looked so pretty as you took him. you really were a good girl, the farthest thing from a whore. but he knew it excited you when your prince charming, george russell, called you such sick names. it made you hot all over, just as when he fucked you with heavy thrusts.

"ah, george. sir." you arched your back as he hit the softest parts of you. you felt like a dream, you were a fairy tale princess. from your cute face to how you dressed. to how you were good with everyone but always perfect for george. you took his cock perfectly, made for him like you came from pages of a story. it was why he need to fuck you was always so strong.

"perfect little whore." he said, his voice tinged with praise.

you moved a little bit and felt your knees start to hurt from the feeling of it all. you felt a thump in your chest from his words. you held onto the pillow under your head. your ass stung from the feeling of the previous slaps.

"see what happens when you behave. you know i'll take care of you. always, but you have to remember our rules. they're to keep you safe. you are the most important thing to me. that's why i hate when you're a whore." he continued to thrust up against you.

you believed him. that was why you put so much trust into him.he never steered you wrong. you loved him so much. and he loved you, even when he called you names in the safety of your bedroom, you loved him more than anything.

his thrusts were focused and they made you squirm. it made it feel like he was nudging up into your stomach and it took the air out of you. your pussy was a fit for him.

you held onto the covers with your back arched. you panted heavily into them. everything was hot in your body, you panted heavily into the sheets. "please, sir."

"you know i love you, and this all happens because i love you so much. and i know how good you could be for me." he said hotly into your ear, keeping you pinned to the bed.

the blood rush made your toes curled and you came with your hands buried in the soft sheets of your shared bed. you gasped into the pillow and you back arched. it was all too much, you almost had tears in your eyes.

he finished after you did, then slowly came to a stop. he pushed his entire length into you and bottomed out in you. he shuddered and coughed out a moan. his grip on you was tight. and you came once more from the intensity of it all. the sparks in your brain came alive.

your back arched as you felt him slow down and stop. you both tried to catch your breath before george pulled out and wrapped himself up around you. he got the covers over you and kissed at your face with love.

"do you need water?" being a good dom meant aftercare. especially from such a production. he peppered your face with kisses and held you in his arms, "i think there's something in the fridge you could snack on."

you looked at him and cupped his face gently, you said with half-lidded eyed, "just some water. when i can think again maybe a shower, sir."

he kissed your lips and said, "perfect, good. my good girl." even with the bruises across your ass, you felt on cloud nine. there really was nothing like having a dom. especially the kind like george. your prince charming <3

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smusherina · 10 months ago

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yard work - chapter 2 (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.

chapter 1 / chapter 3

During the school day, she'd ignore you as usual. Wandering the halls of Northshore, you'd catch glimpses of her but no more than that. It actually felt like you were seeing less of her than usual. It was hard to avoid somebody in a school like Northshore, but somehow she managed it. You doubted it had anything to do with you specifically. She'd been acting off since you'd had dinner at the Georges'.

After school, those days you went to Regina's house to do their yard work, it was as if a switch had been flipped. Gretchen and Karen weren't around. Regina had taken her mom's place on the patio and bathed in the sun as you worked.

You hated to say it was distracting. Partly because the whole thing had thrown you off kilter, like why was she doing all this all of a sudden, and also because she was hot. There was no question about it. Regina George was hot.

You desperately tried maintaining focus on the chlorine you were pouring into the pool, pretending you weren't all too aware of Regina lying not too far away from you, in a skimpy hot pink bikini, large sunglasses covering her eyes.

"Regina! Oh, that's such a cute 'suit you got, where'd you get it?" You were distantly aware of Mrs George stepping through the sliding door to the backyard. Regina muttered something in return. You didn't have to look to see Mrs George wilt at her daughter's dismissal.

It pissed you off. Regina didn't have to entertain her mom's every whim, she could be a bit much, even you could admit that, but she didn't have to be so mean.

You walked over to them with the empty chlorine bag in hand. "Hey, Mrs George." You called as you approached. "Margaritas?"

"Hi, sweetie! I brought you two some, gotta stay hydrated in this hot weather. All virgin, of course!" Mrs George winked and offered up the tray she had in her hands. You smiled gratefully and took one of the glasses. You were actually quite thirsty and Regina's mom made the best (alcohol-free) cocktails.

"Thanks," You said before taking a sip. Mm, strawberry and basil. Yummy.

"Just leave it there, mom. She's gotta work and I'm busy." Regina pointed at the little table next to the sunbeds before directing her attention back to, uh, lying in the sun. She sure looked busy.

"Okay, honey." Mrs George smiled, but the chirp in her voice was strained. "You just call and I'll be right here, alright?" She looked from her daughter to you.

"You got it, Mrs George."

Once the older woman had ducked out of the door and closed it behind her, you turned to Regina.

"You don't need to be mean, y'know." You took a sip, watching the pink slush move through the swirly straw.

"Excuse me?" Regina craned her neck in your direction, looking very uncomfortable. You walked around to the sunbed next to hers and sat down facing her.

"She just brought us margaritas." You said, continuing to sip on your drink.

"Uh, yeah, and I'm busy." She huffed before reaching for her own drink. "Why she feels the need to bother me is beyond me."

"She's your mom and wanted to do something nice." You rolled your eyes, already sick of her attitude.

Regina didn't bother responding. You adjusted on the seat so you were sitting on it the right way, legs kicked up and leaned back. You decided to relax for a few minutes. It was still the beginning of the school year, September barely just started, so summer was still lingering warm in the air.

There was a robin's nest in one of the apple trees. Red-chested birds flew around, from their home branch to the bird pool, to somewhere you couldn't see and back. Soon it'd be apple picking season. For the last two years of high school Mrs George had given you maybe more than half the apples since she didn't know what to do with so much. Before that, it used to be you and Regina. Picking apples, sitting on the branches, peeling each and every one and boiling them into jam with obscene amounts of sugar. Looking back, you were pretty sure doing all those things without proper adult supervision was like tempting a tragic accident.

(To be fair, you had fallen out of those apple trees once before. You were maybe twelve and it was the middle of summer. You'd lost your balance and toppled onto your wrist. Regina had nearly fallen herself scrambling down to get you. She'd cried more than you and you were the one with a broken bone. She insisted you pick a pink cast. She was the first to sign it, too.)

Out in the sun, it was much hotter than under the partial shade in the yard. You chugged the rest of your drink before standing back up. You pulled off your shirt as you walked to the patio stairs, leaving on just a sports bra and your shorts.

"Jean shorts are so lame," Regina said behind you. You turned to look at her and found her looking at you from over her sunglasses. Her eyes raked over your body, no doubt judging how much weight you'd gained since she last saw you without clothes.

Fuck. Not like that. That sounded wrong. You had spent a lot of time at her pool, both of you in swimsuits, as kids. A totally normal, non-sexual setting.

You shrugged, pretending her wandering eye did not make you insecure. "I like my jorts."

"Your taste is questionable." Regina scoffed, a little smile playing on her lips. "At best." She added sassily. You had a feeling she was mocking you.

"Thanks!" You struck a little pose, cocking your hip and blowing a kiss her way, responding in an equally snarky manner. You knew you didn't stand up to her fashion standards. Loose jean shorts down to a little above your knees, basic brown slides, and now sans a raggedy, well-loved Queen tee was not exactly high couture.

"You're not cute, jorts." She leaned up on her elbows and pushed the shades up to her hair. "I think I saw this exact outfit on you, like, three years ago." She pretended to think, finger on her chin. "So, when we were thirteen..."

"Yeah, you probably did." You chuckled. "You also called me jorts three years ago. So, clearly, nothing's changed, right?"

You both damn well knew a lot had changed. Still, she entertained you with a seemingly genuine smile. You smiled back before turning away to retrieve some tools from the shed. There was a gap in the fence that needed fixing.

Then, for the following week and then some, as if the past years of her ignoring you hadn't happened at all, she started speaking to you. Not at school, though, never in public. Only Kylie and Mrs George were privy to your rekindled friendship. You weren't sure if you could even call it that. Was it friendship if it was conditional to time and place?

You couldn't find it in yourself to care too much, though. You had your own crowd at school. You had things other than the Georges' yard work to do. Sometimes you went skating with the guys, picked up shifts at the shop, did chores and yard work at home, played video games, and on rare occasions studied. You had a life outside of Regina George.

So what if when you fucked up a trick and looked around all frantic, checking that Regina hadn't suddenly spawned at the skate park and seen your epic fall. So what if you spent your work hours thinking about her, counting down the minutes until you got to clean the Georges' pool again. So fucking what you wanted to beat the shit out of Regina in Mortal Kombat.

Maybe you did care. You wanted to spend more time with her. Was that a crime? If you could talk during the several hours of the day, five days a week, that the two of you went to the same school, then that want would've abated. But you had to wait. Sometimes there were several days in a row that you barely got a glimpse of her.

You sounded pathetic. Gosh. You hadn't realized how much you missed her until you got a taste of what it was like to have her back. You couldn't even remember what had caused her sudden avoidance back then. Something with Janice and a sleepover. The details had gone blurry since then. You hadn't even been at the sleepover, but you'd heard something bad had gone down. Something that caused Janis 'Imi'ike to switch schools for the remainder of middle school.

Sighing, you let your pencil fall from your hand. You fucking hated algebra. Functional math, business math, that you could deal with, but derivatives and parables and all that stuff? No. Just no.

You rolled your chair back from your desk and decided it was high time for some relaxation. You walked across the hallway to the computer room, planning on fucking around on RuneScape.

Before you could get into gaming, though, you checked AIM and noticed you had a message. From Regina. What? You click the chat open and see that it's been sent a pretty long while ago.

> can i come over? daddys home

You stared at the uncharacteristic message. You two never spent time at your house back then. It was always empty and you didn't have the same fun things Regina did. Mrs George had been a significantly better cook, to add. Your toaster oven tater tots and dino nuggies couldn't compare.

But, hey, maybe this was the start of something new.

> sure > when? whenevr is fine w me

That could've all been one message but, well, here you were. You jumped in your seat when she responded almost immediately.

> omw

Shit. You shot up from the desk chair, sending it rolling to the other side of the room. You shut down the behemoth of a machine as fast as you could, which wasn't very fast, and shot down the stairs. The living room was a mess 'cause you'd spent the last few days pigging out in front of the TV, playing videogames and eating exclusively takeout.

You spent some time in the pantry trying to look for a garbage bag, time was running out, before rushing to the crime scene that was the couch. Styrofoam containers, probably some cutlery, empty bags of Cheetos and whatnot, empty cans, all that flew into the bag. You wouldn't have time to vacuum, so you just brushed the crumbs away into the couch cushions or onto the floor.

You were almost done when the doorbell rang. You had collected all the trash, but you still had to put away some of the still good leftovers. Didn't wanna waste those since you could eat it later.

"Hi!" You exclaimed, a little too riled up to seem sensible at the door. "I was just cleaning up."

"I see that." Regina drawled, eyeing the garbage bag as well as you. You'd completely forgotten about how you looked.

"Shit, sorry," You looked down at your body and the unfortunate clothes draped over it. Blue briefs with little Spidermen printed on them and a ratty grey hoodie with a devastating stain right on your chest. Your hair probably looked just as bad. You hadn't been bothered to fix up your bedhead, it was a goddamn Sunday.

"Don't worry about me." Regina, with her hands at her hips, looked at you expectantly. "So..."

"Yeah, uh, just stay here," You turned and put your sandals on. "I'll put this to the trash and, I still gotta put some things away and then you can come inside."

Regina just stared at you. You pursed your lips together and hustled past her, down the porch steps and toward the trash cans. By the time you'd hauled the bag away, you could no longer see Regina on the porch.

"Regina! I said don't go in!" You ran after her.

"Don't be ridiculous, jorts, I'm not afraid of a mess. Gosh." You could hear her from inside, probably taking her shoes off. That'd been a thing at your house always, but you didn't expect her to remember.

"Fucking- fine, okay, just..." You huffed as you spied her saunter into your living room as if she owned the place. She slumped down onto the couch, the very same you'd slept on the previous night.

You collected the food from the coffee table and moved it to the kitchen. You gave tentative sniffs to glean if they'd gone bad already. They'd only been out in the open for like, less than a day. So it was probably fine.

"When'd you order that?" Regina's voice came from behind you unexpectedly. You turned to her, caught with your nose in some noodles.

"Uh, last night..." You wiped at your nose with your sleeve.

She walked up to the container, right up in your space, and also gave it a sniff. Then she shrugged.

"I was thinking the same," You poured the noodles into Tupperware and shoved it into the fridge.

"Why's your fridge so empty? Has your dad gone bankrupt?" Regina stepped in before you could fully close the door.

"No, Reggie, he's fine. I don't have the money to stock up like your mom."

Regina turned to look at you, a displeased pout on her lips. She'd always hated it when you called her that. "I fucking hate that stupid nickname. And what do you mean you don't have the money?"

"I mean I don't have the money?" You paused in pouring beef and broccoli into another container, turning to look at her.

"Doesn't he send you money or make someone do it for you when he's away?"

You smiled a little bitterly. "He hasn't done that since I was, like, twelve." You paused. "Well, he's always sent me money but he used to have my babysitter buy groceries when I was way young."

Regina's lips twisted like she was genuinely thinking. You continued, feeling weird now that such a weirdly vulnerable conversation had been opened: "He sends me an allowance every week for groceries and school lunch, but it's not that much. If I didn't work at yours or at the shop I'd be toast." You grinned as you put on the last lid, moving to put the last two containers into the fridge too.

Regina didn't look all that amused. She was still frowning at your fridge, the rather pathetic state of it. You could admit it was pretty bleak. Two-litre bottles of various sodas, microwave meals, and an astonishing amount of condiments were not a sight that sparked hope.

"That's weird," Regina commented. "It's like you're poor but with a nice house."

"Gee, thanks so much, Reg, that makes me feel so good and seen." You drolled. "Oh, you think I have a nice house? That's nice."

"It's alright, I guess. Mine's better." Back to her usual, unthinking and overall not-that-nice persona. This was familiar territory.

"I would know. I work there." You motioned for her to follow you to the couch. "I'm gonna pick your apples soon."

"Daddy's home now. I don't know if you can." Regina sat with her shins tucked under her, leaning her side against the back of the couch. You sat a comfortable distance away, facing her with your legs crossed.

"What did your dad do again?" You asked, trying to remember.

"I don't fucking know." She gestured with her hand. "Human trafficking?"

"I hear it's a lucrative business." You grinned, enjoying talking like this with your old friend.

"We should start a company. Who'd you think would have a good price at our school?" She looked so excited at the prospect of talking shit about your peers. It was a little adorable, but in the way that a man-eating beast was. Like a devil cougar or something like that.

"I think that's eugenics, Reg." You muttered, jokingly wincing. "That's problematic."

"What, are you gonna sue me?" She leaned forward, inclining her head cheekily. "With what money?"

"With daddy's money, you fuck!" You laughed. "What money are you gonna sue me with? Wait, let me guess, uhh... Daddy's money."

"I'll have you know, it might be mommy's money." She widened her eyes dramatically as she began to tell the story. "I did some snooping around, and it just so happens daddy might not be the breadwinner after all, because-"

As Regina got into telling you about Mrs George's strange investments, which she and Kylie both had been pretty sure were pyramid schemes, you listened keenly and watched as she spun the story. She'd always been a good storyteller, good with performing and making the room pay attention to her. It was a shame she'd started to use her powers for evil.

Sitting here, Regina George on your dirty couch in her designer clothes and all, listening as she told you about the most mundane things in her life, made you feel warm in a way you hadn't in a long time. Loneliness was a quiet thing. It snuck up on you and you hadn't even noticed.

You hoped she wouldn't duck out of your life again.

Notes: Written late at night. My eyes don't work like they used to before. Might've missed some spelling errors or weird grammar. I'll return to it after I've slept. Also, in case you haven't noticed, this is firmly set in 2004. This story takes elements from both films, 2004 and 2024, but time-wise it is 2004. Another thing, I changed up the chapter titles. Originally, the first part was the prologue but then I thought about it and it really isn't like a prologue. So, that was chapter 1 and this is chapter 2. Bye-bye, party people.

Taglist: One person asked for this lmao, but I am but a servant of the people. Comment on this post if you wanna be tagged on the next part when it comes out. Disclaimer! Chapters will not usually come out this fast.

@autorasexy

#mean girls #mean girls 2024 #mean girls 2004 #mean girls fanfic #mean girls x reader #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #reader insert #no use of y/n #regina george #lesbian regina george #fic: yard work

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idontplaytrack · 3 months ago

Note

aaaaa!!! you opened regina requests!! i love your work sm and im so glad abt this 😭 can i request regina x fem!reader where regina's had a really bad day and she just feels insecure about her body the moment she gets home and reader comforts her and eases her worries?? basically body worship fluff (or if you wanna make it more spicy, up to you!!) i trust your brain. tysmmm <33

She will be loved

Regina George x fem! reader

Warnings: MDNI, smut. Coarse language, insecurity about body image, angst, comfort/fluff

“You can speak of anger and doubts

Your fears and freak outs and I'll hold it

You can share your so called shame filled accounts

Of times in your life and I won't judge it”

Last night, you were on the phone with Regina and something seemed off so you gave her a video call. You were right, because she told you something had happened between her and her Mom. Which unfortunately wasn’t unusual, but so infuriating because you knew what happened. It was usually one of three things— what she ate, what she wore or her grades. Of course, those were the main…quote-unquote, problems. There were always more issues in June’s opinion than meets the eye.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

She looks at you, then away, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

“Regina.” You insisted.

“No, I don’t. Not now, and not over a FaceTime call.”

“Okay.” You agreed, “Let me know when you’re ready. If you want to, I’ll come over, or I can pick you up.”

“Not tonight, I just— I just need to sleep this one off. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

The lack of a nickname addressing you at the end? This was one of her tells that she really wasn’t in the mood, or had the energy to talk. She needed alone time, to calm down and get rest. So you let her off the hook— you said good night to her and hung up. “Good night, I love you.” You said, smiling softly. She forced a smile, “Night.”

“See you tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 7:15.”

You were expecting school to be a little rough, and you were right. She was expecting the same too. “G, why do you always get cheese fries? The other options are not all bad.”

“Just not feeling those options, Gretch.”

Well, it was a genuine question. The school food was great here compared to what you had at your old school.

“Okay.” Gretchen stopped asking and went back to chatting with Karen. Meanwhile, Regina’s brows were knit together. She seemed to be thinking, but then also…started to seem like she was in distress. “Regina.” You said quietly, looking at her.

She took a deep breath, “I’m fine.” You didn’t buy it, she was already in a bit of a…bad mood after yesterday. Every little interaction like that, it only seemed to push her closer and closer to a breakdown. “I’ll be okay, y/n.” She insisted, “I got this.” No one else at the table noticed. Not Karen, not Gretchen…just you. Her voice was quivering, her eyes— shifty, and glossy. She wasn’t okay. “Do you wanna go home?”

“Home?” She bites back a scoff, “No, thanks.”

“To mine?” You clarified.

“No.” Regina shook her head, she went back to eating her food. You couldn’t help it but keep an eye on her. Why was it so damn hard for her to accept any help? To open up? To you of all people?

After lunch, there were three more classes left. You didn’t have the last two with her so you couldn’t exactly make sure she was alright. You could only hope.

“I’ll meet you at your locker after the last bell. okay?” You pecked her cheek.

“Okay, baby.” She smiles softly, then evidently biting the inside of her cheek before she turned to leave. You usually had no problem being away from her but when things got tough, you hated that. You would spend all day, everyday with her if you could. “Hey.” You hear Regina behind you as she tapped your shoulder. Turning around to face her, your greet, “Hi. Let’s go?”

She nodded silently as then took her hand in yours and walked out of school with her. Regina sits in the front with you, like she always does. Except she was just sitting there and staring into space— another bad thing. You had to get her out of that god awful place in her mind.

“Regina, you know this. We gotta talk about it.”

“What’s there that you don’t already know?” She asked, defeated.

You shut your bedroom door, gesturing for Regina to sit down. She does, letting out a sigh as she looked up at you. Her gaze follows you as you moved towards her and sat down in the spot beside her. “I’ll be fine, you know. Always happens, I just need to deal with it until it blows over.”

“What happened, Reg?”

She wanted to scoff but bit back, “Well, you know my mom.”

Of course.

“It’s the same thing, every time, y/n.” Regina replied through gritted teeth, the annoyance within her bubbling up to the surface. “Everytime. ‘Regina, maybe you shouldn’t wear that. It’s too tight, it doesn’t look good.’, ‘Regina, leave the cupcakes alone. You’ve had enough food for the day. We gotta watch what we eat’, ‘Regina, have you worked out today?’ I am so sick of it.”

You gazed into her eyes as she revealed all of that and more to you. “She’s been like this my whole life. Why am I still not used to it? Why am I still listening to what she says? I know it’s no good for me, but I just— I can’t stop thinking about what she’s been feeding my mind for the last eighteen years.”

You grabbed her hands and held them in yours, giving them a squeeze. Tears were starting to fall from her eyes…she was blinking profusely, trying to get rid of them, flustered. “It’s okay.” You assured.

She shook her head, sniffling.

“Regina.” You repeated, “It’s okay. Let it out. All of it.”

“When I was a kid, she used to make me finish my plate no matter what.” Regina exhaled shakily, “Then when I got older, I listened to my body, you know? I stopped eating when I was full but she’d tell me I was wasting food if I threw out what was left on my plate. I didn’t want her to get mad, so as pissed as I was, I finished my plate. I was pretty active, so it didn’t really affect me. Middle school, puberty happened. My body changed.”

Wiping away her tears quickly, she continued, “And I always held more weight somehow. Well then, you know what. My eating habits got bad and I’d go days at a time without eating. Then it was the opposite. Now I’ve just been trying to heal from all of that but she’s been making it hell for me and sometimes I cannot do anything but feel like shit for a few days then get back to normal. We’ve been together almost a year, we’re off to college next year. We’re going to be adults but I’m still plagued by childhood problems. It’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous.” You told her, leaning down to catch her gaze, “It’s not. You’ve been putting in a lot of effort to get better and anyone would be stupid to not see that.”

“Really?” She scoffs, “Even when I have days where I literally do nothing but cry about what she’s told me years ago, or do even worse things, because of her?”

“Yeah. Even then. It takes a lot of strength and courage to push through all that, and pick yourself back up. Which you do, every single time no matter how hard it gets.”

Her frame seemed less tense by the time she stopped talking. With your thumb brushing over her knuckles, you said, “Regina, I need you to remember that I’ll always be here for you. Not just for the good things, for anything. Tough, sad, infuriating. Anything at all. You are not alone. I’m your partner.”

She looks at you, tears welling up in her eyes again.

“I know it’s hard, I know why so you don’t have to keep explaining yourself. And I know it seems like I’m offering nothing but companionship. But that’s sort of what a partner is. I’m here, to keep you company. No matter what life throws at you.”

Another deep sigh falls from her lips before she goes, “Thank you.”

“I love you.”

A pink hue tinted her tear-stain cheek as she tried to hide a smile. “I love you so much.” You added on.

“I love you too.” She squeezed your hand in return.

“And you know I’d do anything for you.” You smiled while your hand rested on her thigh.

————

Regina tensed up slightly at that touch. A harsh exhale was heard from her as you smirked to yourself. “Anything…” Your finger traced her pale skin. You looked up, meeting her eyes once again. Regina had that look, she wanted this. She wanted you. “To prove it.”

“Do you want me to make you feel good, hm?” Your hand relocated onto her cheek, cupping her face. Like a switch has flipped, she immediately gave in to the temptation and nodded eagerly. Her eyes closed and you leaned in to capture her lips into your own. Fleeting kisses were swiftly followed by longer kisses…ones of desire. A whine slips from her mouth in the midst, sending a rush of heat that pooled between your own thighs. You’d back her up against the headboard, she sat with her legs naturally spread open while you straddled her, your knees on either side of her hips. You hands were grabbing her face, lips having never left hers since they latched on several minutes prior.

Regina whimpers this time. You chuckled, “You want more?” It was a little amusing to see her reduced to nothing but meek little noises when under your control. You loved it though, having slightly more dominance over her than typical. And well? She loves being beneath you, that’s for sure. Her head rolls back on reflex, inviting you to work her neck over. And expectedly, when you’ve hit a certain little spot, you’ve earned your first moan. Smiling to yourself, you continued your action until she got louder and squirmier. “Fuck.” She cursed.

Your hand moves down south, grabbing a handful of her breast without having to look. Regina panted, the air right by your ear tickled you and sent a shiver down your spine.

“Take it off.” She grumbled.

“As you wish, baby.” You smirked, reaching back underneath her shirt and unclipping her bra before you detach yourself from her and removed her shirt then got the bra out of the way. Your lips resume its work along her neck, your fingers play with her tit on one hand. You tug on the teat, and she gives you a pretty high pitched moan. “Does that feel good, honey?”

“Yeah—” She says, you didn’t even let her finish that word before you pinched that hardening tip between your fingers. “Shit.” You climb off her, pulling her pants down on the way after getting a hurried nod of approval from her. Settling yourself down between her legs on the mattress, you wasted no time and ran your tongue up and down her slit. Already, she was breathing heavily and you saw her groping her own tits for more stimulation.

“Don’t be shy, now.” You chuckled, thumb moving to rub her clit at the same time your mouth worked. Regina flinches, a muffled noise comes from her. “Don’t hold back, Regina.” Your free hand massaged her thigh, “I want to hear you, baby. I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel.”

The strokes of your tongue quickened, becoming firmer and more purposeful. Your hand on her clit then shifts and you instead slide two fingers inside her. Regina gasps, and flinches. Her leg moves out of position slightly but it remained that way, her body gradually getting overcome by increasing pleasure. You two digits pumped in and out of her at a leisurely but consistent pace, making sure you hit her g-spot everytime. That, sends a shock through her body without fail, making her head spin in pleasure. You feel her fingers combing through your hair roughly, keeping your head in place. Your brows were raised briefly but you carried on, “Fuck, right there— right there—” Regina whimpered, strained. “Don’t stop—”

“Mmkay, baby.” You hummed, keeping at this exact pace and place for awhile. You feel her wetness on your chin, but you couldn’t care less. You were lost in the moment, feeling her writhing beneath you, hearing her making all those noises for you. You were drawn to her like moths to a flame, your only priority now was making her feel good and making her come, worshipping this beautiful body of hers. Worshipping every single inch of her.

“You’re so beautiful.” Your mouth and fingers left her entirely, then you clambered back up to meet her face. “You’re my beautiful girl, aren’t you, Regina?” Brushing her cheek, you gave her a smile as you broke away from the kiss. You pulled her down carefully so she now laid on her back, you reattach your lips to the spot on her neck and started to kiss your way downwards…covering every bit of her exposed skin with a smooch. “Fuck—” She whined, “F—I need you, I need you. y/n—”

“Answer the question, Regina.” You smirked, fondling her tits while hovering over her. She kept quiet so you grabbed at the flesh harder, forcing the lewd noises out of her mouth, followed by impatient nods, “Y—yes— yes— oh, fuck—”

“I’ll be right back.” Kissing her once more, you got off her and then the bed.

“Baby, come on.” She grumbled.

“Just getting the strap, babe.” You winked, “Be patient~”

Regina exhales exasperatedly, looking at you while you walk to your closet and put on the harness behind its door. You’ve gotten her all hot and bothered already and you were absolutely enjoying yourself at this moment. “Open up, baby.” You tapped her thigh and she did as you told her to. Dragging the tip of the shaft along her throbbing cunt, the whining and whimpering from her resumes. “Aw.” You teased, “Are you ready, darling?”

“Yes— yes— oh my God…” She swallowed thickly, nodding her head while she kept looking at you. She knew you would ask for eye contact, so she did it first.

“Please, do it, please.” Regina pleaded desperately.

“Oh, good girl.” You smiled cheekily, lining up the tip of the shaft with her entrance. You were swift, pushing into her before she could say anything. All you heard was a low moan when you entered her and gradually bottomed out. “You okay, baby?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am.” She replied in a whisper, unintentionally whimpering at the end. You retracted and pushed into her more forcefully, a whimper just erupts from her throat like that. Hearing her just spurs you on, you went faster and faster, plus her noises matched up with your movements. It quite literally feels as though you were ascending into a whole new dimension. The noise of both your skin hitting each other’s, combined with the wetness? Whatever it was, it was obscene and had you weak in the knees. But, you persisted. Your hand was on her knee, pushing that leg of hers up as you continued railing to her. She was babbling…curse words, your name, incoherent noises. Goddamn. Her mind was one clouded mess, miles away by now.

When Regina’s back arched off the mattress, she exclaimed, “Oh, fuck!”

You looked at her, slightly worried, “You okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“No, no, no, no, no, no.” She gasped, “Don’t— don’t stop. That feels so fucking good, baby. Keep going— I’m so close— so close—”

“Alright~” You smiled, relieved and eager, “Don’t hold back, Regina.” You resumed your consistent motion of impaling her, watching her face contort, watching her eyes roll to the back of her head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” She babbled in a daze. “Let it all go, Reg. Let it all go.”

“God, you’re insane…” She panted, breathless.

“You’re the one gushing now and I’m barely doing anything anymore.” You retorted.

“God, keep going.”

“What?”

“I want more, keep going.” Her voice was airy, soft. “Keep going?”

You nodded, giving her what she wanted and completely disregarding the state of your sheets. “Oh, you’re so hot, baby.”

“Fuck’s sake.” Regina chewed on her lower lip, “I— I need your mouth— God, fuck—”

Once again, you went along with her happily, pulling out of her then promptly diving back into her cunt, tasting every last drop of her. And yet, she just kept spilling into your mouth. At this point? You couldn’t care less if you drowned. “Damn.” You chuckled, “How far can you go?”

“Push me.” She ordered.

“Well, since you asked…” You shoved your fingers back inside her, assaulting her sensitive spot while lapping her up without complaints.

Somehow, her pitch got higher, making you giddy. You feel her tightening around your fingers rapidly, and you kept going to push her over the edge again. She came, and she came hard. She even backed away a little, so you immediately stopped. That was it, she didn’t want more and you knew. It’d been discussed— if she backs away like that, you’d stopped.

With a tentative hand on her thigh, you shushed her, trying to help her find her breath again. “You’re okay, I got you. You’re okay.”

She nodded, “I know, I know. Oh— my God, I love you.” Hiding her face in her hands to hide the blushing, you brushed her hands away when you crawled back up to lay down next to her. “Look at me.” You held her face in your hand, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She does, and you continue, “I love you. sometimes your mind’s gonna try to convince you otherwise…but, I really, really do. I love you so fucking much and I never want you to forget that.”

“After all of that? I won’t ever be able to get you out of my mind.” She jokes, her usual smirk on her face.

“I mean it. I love everything about you, every little bit of you. Just like you do me. You are perfect the way you are.”

Regina kisses you back, snuggling closer to you. “I know you do, and I promise. No more of that ‘keeping things to myself’ next time…I’ll try my best to talk about it, with you, or with a therapist.”

“And if you ever need to get away from your house, please don’t hesitate to come over to my place. Please. Come over here yourself, or call me, or text me. Anything.”

“Roger that.” She smiled just slightly, which turned into a smirk. “Also, you are freakishly good at whatever that was. Never came this hard in my life.”

“Well, you also did more than that, but…anything for you, eh?” Your fingers traced along her arm. Regina chuckles, “Oh, I’m just as shocked as you are. Sorry about the mess.”

“I’m not sorry, Reg. They’re just sheets.” You laughed, rubbing her back. “You wanna take a shower? Freshen up?”

“That sounds nice, sure.”

“Alright.” You got up first, then pulled her up, “Let’s go.” She smacks you on the ass while you walk ahead of her, entering the ensuite bathroom first. You gasped, “Regina.”

“I think, it’s only fair that you get your turn too now.” She whispers into your ear, sending a chill down your back. “Do you want that, baby girl?”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N:

So…my first Regina x reader smut 🫣

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komotionlessqueenmm · 3 days ago

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Incorrect Quotes

Fred : *Enters bedroom after taking a shower*

(Y/n) : Unbelievable I just can not believe you Fred Weasley!

Fred : What I haven't done anything?

George : Yet.

(Y/n) : Look at you, strutting around with that slutty little waist!

Fred : You think my waist is slutty?

(Y/n) : Oh I know it is. Go put a shirt on you slut.

Fred : *Struts across the room with a grin stretched across his face.*😏

(Y/n) : Slutty little minx.

(Y/n) : *slaps Fred's butt as he walks by.*😈

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yovrnewromantic · 5 months ago

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THE MEANEST GIRL IN HUFFLEPUFF

a small series inspired by my harry potter oc! and her interactions with her peers! enjoy :) please lmk if you have any requests!!

the masterlist! (written by a hufflepuff in denial so yk its accurate)

Harry Potter... Coming soon...

Draco Malfoy

Cedric Diggory

Hermione Granger

Theodore Nott

Ron Weasley

Mattheo Riddle

Lorenzo Berkshire

Fred Weasley

Blaise Zabini

Pansy Parkinson

Ginny Weasley

George Weasley

Luna Lovegood

Neville Longbottom

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hanasnx · 22 hours ago

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MINORS DNI 18+

GEORGE WEASLEY knows you’re with his brother, but you confuse him with all your mixed signals. Always holding his hand when you walk next to him down the halls, playing with his hair when you lay his head down on your thigh in the courtyard, inviting yourself to sit in his lap whenever you please. At first he thought you were mistaking him for your boyfriend, but it’s gone on long enough to where he knows that you can tell them apart. He sees it in your eyes how you recognize him, call him by name, and still lead him on. You wear his clothes when you’re cold and give them back smelling like your perfume; you excitedly run him to him for a friendly hug yet press your tits up against his chest while he’s forced to stoop and wrap his arms around your waist; you’ve compared your hand size to his and didn’t say anything when he broke out in a sweat, biting his lip nervously as he thinks about other contexts in which he’s bigger than you. Fred’s no help in this situation, he just thinks he’s got a fit girlfriend who he likes showing off. “Amazing, isn’t she?” he’ll tell George, and George wonders if he should be agreeing. His brother isn’t inviting him to try you out for a spin, is he? It’s hard to tell when he’s got that look in his eyes. George doesn’t know, but in the past, Fred’s gotten a lot of mileage out of the special privileges twins share.

#ch: george #tw infidelity #george weasley thought #george weasley smut #george weasley x reader #george weasley x fem reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley imagine #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfiction #reader insert

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magical-reid · 2 months ago

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Fighting For You

Pairing: George Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader

Warnings: Cormac McLaggen

Word Count: 1.9K

Prompts: 40: “Don’t go on that date.” “Why?” “You know why.” “Say it.”

38: “I will never stop fighting for you. I will never stop protecting you.”

Summary: Y/N has been secretly in love with George Weasley, but George continues to dismiss their closeness as nothing more than friendship, leaving her uncertain about his feelings. After a tense moment involving a date with Cormac McLaggen, George finally admits his love for her, and they share a kiss, leading to an extravagant public confession where he asks her to be his girlfriend.

The golden light of the setting sun filtered through the Gryffindor Tower windows, casting a soft, warm glow over the common room. The usual chatter of students winding down from their classes filled the air, but in one quiet corner, two Gryffindors stood out from the crowd. You and George Weasley sat close together in a plush armchair by the fire, your fingers brushing every so often as you leaned into his side.

It had been a peaceful evening, the hum of conversation around you blending into the background, yet for some reason, your focus remained on George. He’d always been charming—his mischievous grin and infectious laugh had a way of pulling you in. But lately, there was something more. A depth to his gestures that made your heart race.

He’d bring you little surprises—chocolate frogs, a wildflower bouquet he’d snuck from the greenhouse, or just a handwritten note that left you breathless. His presence had become the highlight of your days, and yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that your growing feelings for him were something you couldn’t allow. You didn’t dare admit what you already knew.

Because the truth was, George Weasley was everything to you, and you knew it.

But every time someone teased you about being “a couple,” George would laugh it off with a grin, brushing it aside. “Nah, we’re just mates,” he’d say, and though you wanted to believe him, each smile, each touch felt as if it meant something more. But how could you be sure? He always shut down the idea of a relationship, and you lacked the courage to push further. So, you convinced yourself that being "just friends" was enough.

______________________________________________________________

One evening, as you sat in the common room, sharing popcorn with George while the fire crackled in the background, Fred approached with his signature mischievous grin.

“You two are practically inseparable,” he teased, glancing between you and George. “Just get together already.”

You exchanged a glance with George. “We’re just friends,” he quickly said, a casual tone hiding the tension beneath.

“But you act like a couple,” Fred pointed out, winking at you. “Holding hands, all the cuddles... It’s obvious.”

George laughed nervously. “Yeah, well, you know. We’re just really close friends.”

Your stomach twisted. “We are just friends, Fred,” you said with a forced smile.

Fred raised an eyebrow but dropped the subject. Still, it was hard to ignore how everyone else seemed to see what was happening.

One evening, after dinner, as you walked back to the common room, Ginny smirked at you both. “So, when’s the wedding, then?” she teased. “You two have been acting like a couple for months.”

Your cheeks flushed, but George quickly deflected. “We’re just friends, Ginny. Nothing more.”

But even as he said it, you couldn’t help but notice how his hand lingered on the small of your back, the warmth of his touch spreading through you like fire.

______________________________________________________________

The teasing from your friends never helped. Fred was the first to start it one afternoon in the Great Hall. As you and George entered, he nudged George with a sly grin. “Oi, George, looks like you’ve got something on your cheek,” Fred said, exaggerating the motion of wiping his face. “Oh wait, no. It’s just your girlfriend!”

You nearly choked on your pumpkin juice, but George only rolled his eyes. “Fred, don’t be ridiculous. We’re just friends,” he said, as if the word “friend” was the most natural thing in the world.

But everyone could see it—the way George walked you to class, his hand brushing yours as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from you. The way he would sneak glances across the room at meals, catching your eye with that secret smile. You’d caught him staring at you more than once when he thought you weren’t looking, and when you leaned in to whisper something to him, he lingered just a bit too long, as though savoring the moment.

And then, of course, there was the way he always touched you. A hand on your back as you passed him in the corridor, a gentle squeeze of your hand when you laughed at one of his jokes. It was never anything overt, but the affection was undeniable, and the whole school seemed to notice.

“Oi, George,” Lee Jordan piped up one day as he watched you and George on the steps leading to the courtyard, heads close together as you whispered. “When are you two going to admit you’re together? You’re always staring at each other like that… I’m not blind, mate.”

George, who had been laughing at something you said, froze for a moment, then smiled sheepishly. “Lee, we’re just friends. Nothing more.”

But even as he spoke, you noticed that he didn’t look at you. His gaze flicked away quickly. Your stomach tightened. It always stung. Why couldn’t he just admit it? Why wouldn’t he say it?

______________________________________________________________

The day you agreed to go on a date with Cormac McLaggen, you knew it was a mistake. It wasn’t that you liked him, but you needed a distraction. You needed to stop falling for George, to stop clinging to the hope that maybe—just maybe—he might feel the same way. You were trying to prove to yourself that you could move on, that you could forget.

When McLaggen had asked you out, you’d acted nonchalant, like it was no big deal. But inside, the voice kept whispering that this was just a way to distance yourself from George—to forget the way he constantly filled your thoughts.

As you rounded the corner near the portrait hole to head to bed, you nearly walked straight into George.

“George!” you exclaimed, startled. But there was something in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. He wasn’t smiling. His face was set, his jaw tight.

“Don’t go on that date,” he said, his voice low and serious.

Your breath caught, but you managed to stay composed. “Why?” you asked, though you already knew.

George swallowed, his fists clenched at his sides. “You know why.”

You crossed your arms, refusing to back down. “Say it.”

His gaze was filled with something deep, something you couldn’t quite place. “Because I care about you. I don’t want him to hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking on the last words, as if the weight of them was too much.

Something inside you shifted, but you smiled to hide it. “It’s just a date, George. I’ll be fine.”

But he didn’t seem convinced. He took a step closer, his voice soft but intense. “I don’t care if it’s just a date. I don’t trust him. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

You met his eyes, feeling the tension in the air. For a moment, you wanted to confess everything—to tell him how you felt. But the words never came. Instead, you forced a smile. “I’ll be alright.”

And as you walked away that night, the weight of the unspoken words hung between you. What if George felt the same way? What if he didn’t? The uncertainty gnawed at you.

______________________________________________________________

The next day, George was back to his usual self, teasing you with a grin and slipping a bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans into your hand as you made your way to the library.

The two of you were inseparable, always joking, always touching. Sometimes, his hand brushed your back as you walked together, or he’d drape an arm over your shoulder while telling a joke. Yet, whenever someone would tease him about being your boyfriend, George would laugh it off, saying, “We’re just friends, nothing more.”

Each time, it made your heart sink.

It didn’t help that your friends noticed.

______________________________________________________________

That evening, as you headed to the Great Hall to meet up for your date with Cormac, you spotted George standing near the stairs with Fred, talking animatedly. The moment his eyes met yours, something shifted. His expression faltered just for an instant, a flicker of emotion you couldn’t place, before he masked it with a grin.

You took a deep breath and stepped forward, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. As you approached Cormac, he greeted you with a roguish smile and offered his arm. You took it reluctantly, but your eyes lingered on George. He was watching you, his gaze unreadable.

You two made your way to the Three Broomsticks, where you found yourself sitting across from Cormac, nervously playing with your mug as he rambled on about his Quidditch skills. But it wasn’t Cormac that held your attention. It was George who had found himself sitting just 3 tables over from where you sat.

From across the room, George watched you intently. His face was tight with barely concealed worry, his gaze never straying far from you. When Cormac’s hand brushed your leg under the table, your stomach twisted. You didn’t like it.

But it was when McLaggen leaned in too close, his hand on your thigh, that you felt a pang of panic. Before you could react, a sharp voice cut through the noise.

“Oi, McLaggen! Hands off!” George’s voice was loud, and he was already striding toward you with purpose. He shoved McLaggen away with surprising strength.

“George, what are you—” you began, but George didn’t let you finish. He stepped between you and Cormac, glaring at him.

“Stay away from her,” George said, voice low and fierce. “I don’t care who you think you are. You hurt her, and you’ll answer to me.”

You felt your heart race as George turned to face you. “You shouldn’t be with someone like him,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours.

Your breath caught in your throat, and everything inside you seemed to still. “Why?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why do you care?”

“Because I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you this for months,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “But I’m an idiot. I was lying to myself. And to you. I’ve been afraid to tell you how I feel because I didn’t want to ruin everything. But I can’t keep pretending anymore. I love you”

And then, without another word, George closed the space between you and kissed you. “Please believe me.”

It was everything you’d dreamed of. It was slow, soft, and full of all the unspoken things you’d both been holding back.

______________________________________________________________

The next day, George went all out. Fireworks lit up the sky, the colors dazzling as they danced above the Hogwarts castle. In the center of the courtyard, surrounded by their friends, George stood with a bouquet of roses and a nervous grin.

“I know this is a bit much,” he began, his voice shaking slightly, but his eyes full of confidence, “but I’ve spent too long hiding how I feel. So, here it is: I love you. Will you be my girlfriend?”

You gasped, heart racing. For a moment, you could hardly breathe, overcome by the enormity of his gesture. And then, without hesitation, you whispered, “Yes.”

George smiled, a wide, brilliant grin that matched the fireworks in the sky. And as you kissed him, the entire courtyard erupted into cheers, but nothing could drown out the sound of your heart, finally at peace.

And in that moment, all the teasing, all the uncertainty, melted away. You started to believe that this was where you belonged—with him.

#magical-reid #self insert #reader insert #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #George weasley fluff #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fan fic #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley self insert #george weasley fic #george weasley imagine #prompted #requested

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sailtomarina · 8 months ago

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Buy None, Get Two

cw: smut, M/M/F

It was supposed to be a short stop, your intention being to pick up a few personal items then head on home. Today was the one and only day of the Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes Spring Sale, after all, and their lines of WonderWitch were second to none in creativity and efficacy.

In hindsight, it would have been smarter to enter like any other customer from the front door. The main entrance meant light, open space, and plenty of witnesses. You would have been able to shop in peace with little interruption but the knowing wink of the clerk.

Let’s just say that eagerness played a part in your absence of thought. You tossed on your favourite corduroy skirt, a heavy knit jumper, and your trainers before grabbing your purse.

You went through the Floo by habit, stepping directly from your cottage into the twins’ flat above the shop. Were this any other day, the lights would have been out, the space quiet, the telltale ginger hair bent over experiments or paperwork downstairs in their offices.

So when you walked directly into the well-lit sitting room where Fred and George lounged on the sofa directly facing the fireplace, you froze.

“Well, well, what do we have here, Forge?”

“I don’t know, Gred. It looks like our girl’s here to take advantage of some great savings.”

You could feel your lips curling into the familiar grin these two always prompted, but you angled your body towards the front door in an attempt to squeeze by safely. “Now boys, I only have a small window of time that I intend to use wisely–”

Your well-laid plans ended in a squeak as you were lifted off your feet and laid unceremoniously across two sets of legs. Fred’s arm cradled your head carefully while his other automatically wrapped around your waist. George immediately took to removing your trainers, strong fingers massaging circles against the tight muscles and turning you limp.

“Our little sale has been more successful than anticipated and we thought we’d get away for a breather–,” Fred said lightly, his hand now tracing down your cheek.

“–so your arrival comes at a perfect time, love,” George picked up where his brother left off. You couldn’t help the sigh that escaped you as he slipped off your socks. His hands were warm against your smooth skin, and you thanked yourself for the foresight of shaving the night before.

“What did you two have in mind?” While you knew exactly what it was you wanted, you decided to play coy. They’d disrupted your original ideas, after all. You couldn’t make things too easy for them.

“Well…” Fred’s fingers propped your chin up as he leaned down to hover just out of reach, “that depends.”

“On?”

Your eyes flickered away from Fred to watch as George shifted on the chaise, separating your legs so he could turn and kneel between them.

George licked his lips as he eyed the two of you, and his hands moved up your thighs to continue his gentle rubbing. “On what it was you were planning on purchasing.”

Trapped between their warm bodies as you were, you couldn’t help the flush that worked its way up your chest to fill your cheeks. They smirked at the sight.

“I wanted to pick up some Daydream Charms,” you continued despite the way Fred clicked his tongue in disapproval, “Crush Blush, since I’m almost out, and a Tongue Twister–”

“I can understand the blush, but do you really need the others when you already have two wizards who are more than happy to fulfil any fantasies you might have?” George interrupted.

His hands slipped beneath the thick fabric of your skirt, long fingers sweeping up the expanse of your thighs and encouraging you to widen them as he bent forward.

“George, you really don’t need to–”

“He wants to, love, as do I,” Fred said, gripping your chin firmly and raising his eyebrows. “Or do you want us to stop? Just say the word.”

The mouth that had been kissing its way up your inner thigh paused now above your centre, the heat of his breath priming you for a very different sort of tongue. A gush pulsed through you at past memories of how skillful they were with their fingers and mouths. They were insatiable, their focus unwavering and discerning of how every single sensation affected you. They used that knowledge to their advantage and your demise, turning you into a helpless puddle at their beck and call.

Sometimes it mortified you, afterwards, thinking about all the ways you unravelled at their touch, how easily they could make you say and do things you never would have dared on your own. You weren’t a very open person, despite how your body and mind seemed to unfurl at the mere suggestion of their eyes on yours.

You knew without a shred of doubt that, were you to say so, Fred and George would remove their hands. You hadn’t put a label on what it was that went on between the three of you just yet. You hoped, yes. You craved and dreamt.

“Don’t stop.” Low and breathless, you sounded desperate because, well, you were.

“Your coins are no good to us, sweetheart,” Fred murmured. He maintained a steady commentary while George mouthed you through the thin cotton of your knickers.

The barrier was a joke sodden as it was with the combination of his spit and your steady arousal. He sealed his mouth against you and hummed. The vibrations sent you into a backbreaking arch with a moan. It was only Fred’s hands against your shoulders that stopped you from lifting off of the chaise entirely. His chuckle was warm against your cheek, his kiss a reassuring pressure to your temple.

The moment the gusset of your knickers was swept to the side and George ran a flattened tongue the full length of your slit, you cried out, scrabbling for purchase on something, anything.

Fred met you, fingers threading through yours and lips crashing down to muffle your cries. Slowly, he brought your hand up with his own to wrap around your throat. He didn’t squeeze, but he didn’t have to. The mere presence was close enough of a claim to tip you over the edge as George plunged two fingers inside and curled them upward.

“Pretty girl, so sweet and good for us,” Fred cooed. “Can you be good for a bit longer?” His hips shifted beneath your head where it rested. You could feel the thick length of him straining against the constraints.

“Please!” This was why you’d come over, wasn’t it? You’d dreamt last night of a scenario much like this one where the twins moved over and around you, taking turns wringing pleasure from you like another one of their experiments.

You only had to turn your head the barest amount before your jaw opened wide to take in his bared cock, while, at the same time, you felt a blunt pressure at your cunt. Like they shared one mind, they impaled you from both ends. Hands pressed against your hips and the back of your head, bringing you flush against them. You trembled, and you gagged, and still they held on tight.

“Nnnnn,” you couldn’t speak with your mouth and throat stuffed full; you weren’t sure how much longer you could last like this.

One of them, you weren’t sure who, shushed you. Fingers brushed against your clit, a fist tightened around your hair, spots danced across your vision through which you could only see the milky skin of Fred’s lower abs and a thatch of red hair slightly darker than the rest.

Just as you felt like you were about to pass out, they pulled back, and you gasped for air just in time to be filled once again. They repeated the process until you shouted around Fred’s cock and shook beneath George’s circling thumb.

“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, I’m–” Fred groaned deep as he started to come, spilling down your throat as you worked to swallow all of him. “Look at you, drinking me up.” He didn’t care about the cum still coating your lips as he bent down to tangle his tongue with yours, thrusting deep and swirling around as if he meant to clean you up.

His mouth caught your cries as George pulled your knees up and spread them in a wide v, thrusting as deep as he could to finish. George nuzzled against your tits over the jumper you still wore as he pulsed inside of you. The slight tingle of magic across your abdomen let you know one of them had cast a contraception charm. It wasn’t until he slipped out of you and sat up that Fred pulled back from your kiss.

“Any chance we can convince you to join us downstairs?” George asked as he offered you your knickers.

They both wore satisfied grins, eyes crinkled at the corners and lips swollen and red. Given the state of their faces and how their hair stood in disarray, there was no question about what they’d been doing in their free time.

You tapped your chin as you pretended to think. “I do still have a few more fantasies I’d like to experience if there are any more Daydream charms left…”

Laughter bubbled out of you at the insulted looks they gave you, a joy that turned into dismay when George vanished your knickers with a casual wave of his hand.

“Cheeky witches don’t get to wear knickers,” he sniffed. The act was just that, his smirk giving away his amusement.

“We do still need to eat, if you’d like to join us for lunch.” The uncharacteristic seriousness in Fred’s voice prompted you to look more carefully at him.

“Are you asking me out on a date, Fred Weasley?”

“What if we are?” His chin came up in that stubborn way of his you sometimes saw around his family and rivals. George looked much the same, even with the hint of his smile remaining.

You could slap the invitation down with your usual playful air, and they’d likely go along with your decision. While none of you had strictly gone out of your way to hide the attraction you felt for one another, this would be the first such instance of publicly acknowledging it as such.

“I could be persuaded…”

You looked them both over, biting your lip as you imagined all the ways they could go about convincing you. The possibilities were endless, your mind a playground for three. They leaned forward, beckoned by the prize dangling before them.

Then you bolted, aiming for the door sans knickers and trainers knowing full well they’d never let you make your escape. Laughter rang out behind you, then the familiar weave of their magic wound around you and yanked you back into their arms.

Right where you belonged.

1825 WC

5.19.24 FB: Lauren’s Kitchen prompt: “sale”

Cross-posted on Tumblr, Facebook, and AO3.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter flashfic #Facebook: lauren's kitchen #weasley twins x reader #reader insert #george weasley #fred weasley

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fanfictionismyaddiction · 3 months ago

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Dummfucks of the Grid

word count: 760

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: After a disappointing P6 finish at the São Paulo Grand Prix, Lando Norris finds comfort in his girlfriend Y/n's fierce support as she playfully criticizes the other drivers and team principals

______________________________________________________________

As the door to Lando’s driver’s room closed, the noise of the paddock celebrations faded into the background. Lando sat on the couch, his head in his hands, feeling the weight of finishing P6 after a race that had promised so much more. The disappointment was palpable, especially with Max winning again.

Y/n moved swiftly to sit beside him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “Hey, Lando, P6 isn’t the end of the world. You gave it your all out there.”

He sighed, his frustration evident. “Yeah, but I wanted to do better. With Max winning again, it feels like I keep falling short.”

“Falling short?” she echoed, shaking her head. “You didn’t just fall short; you navigated a field of absolute clowns out there! Let’s talk about it. You know I’m here for you.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? Care to elaborate?”

“Okay, first off, Max. He drives like he’s playing Mario Kart and thinks he can just take everyone out with a blue shell! I mean, does he not understand that sharing the track is part of the job? It’s like he thinks he’s invincible! It’s ridiculous!”

He chuckled, a small smile breaking through. “That’s a good way to put it.”

“And then there’s George Russell, who finished P4 today. Honestly, he acts like he’s the golden child of the grid. ‘Look at me, I’m so talented, watch me throw my weight around!’ It’s like he forgets he has to race, not just pose for the cameras. Every time he gets near you, it’s like he’s trying to play bumper cars!”

“True,” Lando said, laughing harder now. “I can feel the ego swelling every time I see him.”

“And don’t even get me started on Leclerc! He’s out there racing like he’s auditioning for the role of ‘Most Likely to Crash Into a Wall.’ It’s like he has a special talent for making the race more dramatic than it needs to be. How does he always manage to be on the brink of disaster and still finish? Is it a gift or a curse?”

Lando nodded, now thoroughly entertained. “He does have that knack for drama, doesn’t he?”

“Absolutely! And then we have Carlos Sainz. I mean, bless him, but he’s trying so hard to keep up with Leclerc that it’s like watching a puppy chase its tail. Poor guy looks so lost sometimes, you just want to give him a treat and a pat on the head! But he gets a pass because he’s your friend.”

“Right? Carlos is actually a good guy,” Lando said, shaking his head, amused.

“And then there’s the team principals!” Y/n continued, her passion bubbling over. “Christian Horner thinks he runs a royal court every time Max crosses the finish line. ‘Look at my king!’ as if it’s not a team effort. And Toto—he’s not innocent either. He struts around like he’s the head of a fashion show! Honestly, if I had a dime for every time I’ve seen him making dramatic hand gestures in the pits, I could fund a whole new racing team!”

“Okay, that one’s a good point!” Lando laughed, feeling the tension ease with every word.

“Seriously, I would fight every one of them for you if it came down to it. Size doesn’t matter when you’re this passionate!” she declared boldly. “I’d take on Max, George, and anyone else who thinks they can just push you around out there!”

“Y/n, you do realize you’re only 5’6, right?” Lando replied, grinning. “How are you going to take on all of them?”

“I may be small, but I’ve got a big heart and a bigger mouth!” she shot back, her eyes sparkling with defiance. “Just imagine me storming the paddock like, ‘Back off, or I’ll unleash my fury on you!’”

“Please don’t start any fights in the paddock,” he said, his tone light but earnest. “I love your spirit, but I’d rather not deal with the fallout. I need you here, not banned.”

“Why not? It would be entertaining!” she countered, smirking. “I’d tell them all off! ‘Listen up, dummfucks of the grid, stop getting in my boyfriend’s way!’”

Lando laughed, the sound genuine now. “You really are something else. Knowing you’ve got my back means everything.”

“Absolutely! If they try to block you from winning, I won’t hesitate to step in,” she said, snuggling closer.

“Just promise me you won’t do anything too crazy,” he replied, a grin spreading across his face. “I love your fierceness and protective side, but let’s keep you in the paddock, okay?”

#fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #fluff #reader insert #fanfiction #f1 #lando x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando noris #f1 fic #formula 1 #max verstappen #charles leclerc #george russell

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ickle-ronniekins · 16 days ago

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the things we left unspoken

pairing: george x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

warning(s): angst, breakups, substance abuse

desc: wrote this years ago and never published it and then went through one of the most horribly confusing and heart-rending breakups ever! there’s not a whole ton of my old fic writer friends are still here so this is going to hit a new audience if there is still a weasley twins audience on here -- hi, i’m erica, i wrote obsessively for the weasley twins years back. sometimes i still do, for my own enjoyment. though this one hurts and george sucks. i don’t normally do that because i’m in love with him but this is a bit different. sorry

Age 23, Present Day

“No... How dare you come here and tell me this now?”

George feels his chest constrict a bit; his breathing is heavy, as if he’s just run a marathon, which he certainly feels like. It has taken him every bit of his strength to not come to your doorstep and admit to something he should have years ago. He’s absolutely bloody exhausted from fighting an internal battle with himself for this long.

In all of your years aside one another, he’d never quite seen you so angry as this. Your mouth, otherwise normally twisted into some lopsided smile, is now in a thin, firm line. Your jaw is tensed, and he knows from all of those evenings next to you in bed that you’re certainly clenching your teeth because of the stress you surely are feeling from him showing up unannounced. He wishes not to know that. Or actually, if he’s being honest, he wishes that he still spent that time with you in bed, and instead of grinding your teeth together, you’d giggle open-mouthed as he’d press ticklish kisses to the space between your collarbones. Your eyes are ocean blue and stormy and grey at the same time, and he doesn’t quite relish the idea of mustering up any strength he has left to whether the ups and downs of the impending tide.

Though you’re standing your ground, he sees your lip wobble just a smidge and it sends daggers straight through his heart. He swore that day, the day when everything had blown up, that he would never, ever make you cry again. It was the day he thought would be the worst of his life. How painfully wrong he was. Your voice is wobbly now, too. "You had no right to come here and say these things.”

You’re right, of course. He knows that. He doesn’t have any right. He’d lost that privilege the evening you’d taken every stolen glance, every evening kiss, every morning after and laid them out in front of you both, tangled in the web of your own vulnerability. He’d lost any and all privileges when it came to you, when he’d turned everything down, pretending that he didn’t feel exactly the same way you did, pretending it wasn’t what it truly was. Pretending he didn’t love you. He’s so stupid, wasn’t he? Though of course, he’d only rejected them because he thought he’d be protecting you.

There’s nothing he could say now to make things better. Shit. He’s cursing himself upright and backwards; he should’ve just kept his bloody mouth shut like Ron had said.

“I know I have no right,” George starts, and he’s surprised himself with how many emotions are jam packed into those six words. He suddenly feels as though something rather sharp has become lodged in his chest. He places his hands into his pockets and looks up wearily to meet your gaze. Your eyes are still grey, but softened now, as if the storm has drifted out to sea. For a very fleeting moment, he sees traces of that girl from years ago, the one who would run up stealthily to the boys dormitory and hide in his four poster with the curtains drawn until he arrived, quiet so as not to disturb his roommates, with a grin so large and mischievous it could’ve cured him of every anxious thought he ever had. He considers your vulnerability, the traces of what had been, and wants to lean in and kiss you if the moral compass in his head wasn’t screaming at him to not do so right this very moment. Just as well, he thinks, because that fleeting moment in your eyes had disappears as quickly as it had arrived. You’re backing away now, into your front doorway.

He wants to search each and every book all the Wizarding libraries had to offer, because there has to be a spell to turn back time without necessarily meddling with it, right? He can’t stand the idea of using a time turner and possibly fucking up more than he already has.

But if he could turn back time without any consequences, he’d go right back to that night, no questions asked, no time to ponder, and he’d tell you that he loves you.

He’d go right back to when you stood across from him in the rain and told him that you fell for him, even though you promised not too, because what you two were doing was something with no strings attached. You’d both agreed to it, from that first moment he’d kissed you so furiously on the abandoned Quidditch pitch. You never meant to fall for him. You really hadn’t. But you couldn’t help it. And George knew it, too. He’d told himself when you two started this whole thing that someone was bound to get hurt in the end, but he hadn’t been thinking straight then, had he? He was distracted by the heat of your lips exploring his body, by the way your hands always got tangled in his hair and left it messy looking, by the way you’d steal glances at him from across rooms, and from the intense sensual energy you two exchanged in those glances, noting that only you two knew what was going on behind closed doors.

He’d go back to that moment and tell you that he loved you too, and he didn’t care what people thought, because he’s loved you for years, now. He’d loved you ever since that one night when you two were lying in bed and he’d been playing with your hair, and he was joking and going on about something about the test products for the shop, and you continued to trace your finger along his biceps, and casually let it slip how proud you were of him.

You two had agreed that feelings wouldn’t be involved, and yet feelings seemed to be what kept you both from ending things. Until that one night in the rain.

He’d tell you that he didn’t care how you two started, tangled up in bed sheets and one another’s limbs without commitment to one another. All he cares about is how you two end, where commitment is all he bloody wants to give you now.

But he can’t. He can’t go back in time -- not without dire consequences.

There’s a type of yearning in your eyes. He was used to you longing -- for five more minutes, for one more kiss, for a tighter embrace. The truth was, he longed for all of those thing too. He still does.

But this is a different type. This is a type of yearning he can’t quite get on board with, but he knows he has too. If he loves you, truly loves you, he has too. He can practically hear your voice in his head, though your lips aren’t moving. I’m trying to move on, George, and you’re not letting me.

“I’m sorry.. I just needed you to know.” He manages to say shakily. And he tests fate and takes five more seconds, just five more, to memorize you -- the curve of your jaw, the colours in your hair, the intensity of your gaze, because he doesn’t want to forget. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to look at you like this again.

Another dagger to his heart, he lets his gaze drop and turns around before he can’t stop himself from running toward you and kissing you anyway. He doesn’t turn back; he can’t face the girl who’s heart he’s broken once, twice. He can’t bear to do it again. He hears the door shut and stops dead in his tracks, closes his eyes and lets the tears escape them easily. His feet are stuck on the cobblestone street; he can’t leave. But it’s too damn late now.

He never meant for it to get this far, had he? Neither of you had.

Pride is such a stupid thing, and he’s cursed himself for letting it be of higher importance than you. You were the only thing that mattered -- then, and now.

His evening in his flat he shared with Fred above the shop is filled with bottomless drinks until he can’t see straight, and long gazes out of the rain-covered window panes as he tests prototypes for new items. Drunk on anger, and heartbreak, and confusion, he speaks aloud to nobody, if only to remind himself that this pain he feels is real, bona fide, as the crack in his heart draws larger and deeper.

“I'll always fucking love you.”

#george weasley #fred weasley #weasley twins #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #fred and george weasley #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines #weasley twins fanfic #weasley twins fanfiction #george weasley x reader #george weasley reader insert #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley oneshot #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley x you

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live-laugh-lenney · 8 days ago

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LOCKED IN | ARTHUR FREDERICK

chapter two is all yours! a bit of a messy chapter to squeeze a lot in but i'm happy to get it out! so much love from chapter one and i'm so glad you're enjoying it so far. feedback is always welcomed and my inbox is always open so please, please, please don’t hesitate to let me know your thoughts on the story. enjoy! <33

CHAPTER ONE

- C H A P T E R T W O -

YN was tired.

Oh boy, was she tired.

She knew that being in a bed that wasn’t her own, that didn’t have her knitted blanket or had the indent of her body arching the mattress or her multiple stuffed teddies that all held such sentimental value, was going to be a struggle. And she knew it was going to be tough for the first night, and maybe the second, but it was something she knew that she would overcome as the days went on… she was a grown woman after all.

As her eyes opened and adjusted to the brightness of the natural light slipping through the gaps in the blinds of the window, she felt the stiffness of her back upon the mattress and the curled up position she’d found herself in clearly hadn’t been the most ideal position to fall asleep in but she felt safe, almost, as she closed her limbs in upon herself and closed herself off to the world. A way to protect herself in a foreign building.

She craned her neck up and took a glance around the room to see if she was the first one to wake up - but when she met the eyes of Anisa in the far corner of the bedroom, she grinned tiredly and waved half-heartedly, being quiet enough to not wake any of those who were still deep in their slumber. Johnny. Jemel. Jamie. Their bodies still forming human-shaped lumps under their covers, all still upon their mattresses with their eyes closed, breathing slowly as they enjoyed their last few minutes of peaceful sleep before the day tore them away from the comforts of serenity. She panned her vision over the row of beds before her, seeing empty and unmade beds, taking a guess that they had either decided to take a proper look around the house now that it was morning and a brand-new day or had either chosen to get ready for the day. Looking to her left, Anastasia had clearly risen for the day because her bed was empty and made up for when she was ready to clamber back at the end of the day… but to her right, Arthur was in the midst of waking up himself. A tired and crooked smile on his mouth once he made eye contact with YN.

“Good morning,” he greeted her, “did you sleep okay?”

“Eh, so-so,” she hummed, stretching her arms up and curling her fingertips into her palms, feeling the air between her bones crack from movement and, truthfully, she would have been lying if she didn’t find the sound (and the feeling) quite satisfying, “just strange not being in the sanctum of my own bedroom. Being in my own bed. Sharing a space with nine other people is still a bit weird for me.”

“Yeah, it’s a strange concept,” he nodded in agreement, leaning up on the palms of his hands and sitting up, leaning against the headboard and smushing the pillow between his back and the fabric of the headboard behind him; his bare torso which her eyes dropped down to when the duvet had slipped from his upper body, revealing a small indication that he was, in fact, well kept and looked after himself. Cheeks flushing but her vision almost immediately diverted back to his face. “Jokeman snores, too. In fact, so many people snore. More than I thought there would be.”

YN snorted in amusement and propped herself up, a little more upright, against her own headboard.

The snoring was something she could handle.

Days before she entered the house and moments before she thought too in depth about the possibility of anything bad happening, she’d already guessed at the high likelihood that a handful of those in the group of ten were those that snored in their sleep… or talked in their sleep… it wasn’t going to be smooth-sailing each night with peace and tranquility. She wasn’t that much of a light sleeper so bumps in the night and noises, that could scare anyone awake, never seemed to phase her or rip her from her slumber so she knew she’d have been fine dealing with the sounds that came with nighttime.

Moments before she lulled off into her sleep, she’d heard footsteps quietly creeping down the alley of the columns of beds. Followed by a few hushed voices, the muffled laughter and then gentle giggles of those who slipped out of the room because they weren’t quite ready to call it a night and didn’t want to keep anyone else from getting some well-earned sleep themselves, and she probably would have joined them if her eyeballs hadn’t felt like they’d been slit with the edges of paper. Aching and almost crying to have a rest, almost watering at the mere temptation of laying down, barely able to open back up once they’d closed for the night.

“I was exhausted,” she sighed and dug the palms of her hands into her eyes, “once my head hit that pillow and my eyes closed and I fell asleep, there was no way I was waking up. Which is weird because I felt like I was up almost every other hour to change sleeping positions.”

“I’m such a light sleeper so any noise kept me awake,” he frowned, eyebrows furrowing on his browline, “it sucks really. Hoping it gets a bit easier to deal with, to be honest. It’s all brand new when you’ve never really slept in the same room with anyone else for a while.”

“It’s like a huge sleepover,” YN gushed, the smile on her lips widening, “I love sleepovers.”

“We should definitely plan a sleepover outside of this place when it's all over,” he suggested, eyes widening when he’d realised just what he had suggested, stumbling over his words as he tried to find a way to dig himself out of the hole he’d plopped himself into, “obviously, with everyone else. Like a reunion kind of thing once this is all over.”

“That would be amazing,” YN agreed.

“I, too, think that would be amazing,” Jemel chimed in from his bed, having rolled over to see who he had woken up with, “good morning.”

“Good morning.”

“Morning, Jemel.”

Both came out simultaneously, almost drowning the other out, the bedroom falling into a silence that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable as everyone seemingly kept to themselves as they prepared for the day ahead. Sheets were rustling as others roused from their slumbers, announcing themselves with gentle greetings and waves before rubbing the sleep from their eyes, taking in the room now they’d spent the night there. How clothes had been chucked on the floor, shoes left strewn across the galley between the beds, how people had already made themselves at home.

“I’m gonna start getting myself ready for the day otherwise I will stay in this bed all day,” YN stated, preparing for the chill in the air to hit at her bare legs showing from the cycling shorts she’d chosen as her sleeping attire for her time in there, “I almost have dread in my stomach for what they have in store for us today.”

She internally groaned as she kicked the duvet from her body and twisted around, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, toes touching the ground as she stood to her feet.

“Hopefully something fun,” Arthur said, “I can't imagine they’ll be too harsh and throw us in the deep end from the first day.”

YN nursed the cup of tea in her hands, bringing the rim to her lips and taking a sip of the warm liquid, letting it slide down her throat and feeling it warm her up ever so slightly more than before. Legs swinging from the stool she was perched upon at the island counter in the middle of he room, watching Spuddz and Steph flit around the kitchen as they dried up the dirty plates and cutlery from those that had just eaten breakfast not too long ago; YN being one of those who had scoffed down a plate of scrambled eggs on toast, smothered in tomato ketchup, and covered in salt and pepper. Her favourite way to demolish a meal at breakfast.

She saw a pair of male legs trot down the stairs, bare feet padding down the wooden steps, and she hadn’t a clue who it was until they reached the lower floor of the house, thinking they must have been feeling brave to step foot on the cold kitchen tiles.

Arthur.

A white towel wrapped around his sodden lower half and hanging low on his hips, water still trickling down his shoulders and down to his elbows from the wet hair at the nape of his neck, hair swept to the side and showing more of his forehead that he’d keep hidden behind a fringe when it was dry and styled how he liked it to look.

She wasn’t looking but… she was looking.

Respectfully.

He hadn’t seen her sat at the kitchen island, briskly walking past in a haste to get somewhere more private to get himself dressed, and she was thankful he didn’t lock eyes and notice her as she watched him walk through the kitchen - she knew the cameras would have picked that up and she knew those at home would have picked up how her demeanour had changed. Maybe not the way her face deadpanned to the naked chest before her. Maybe not the missed breath that caught in her throat and almost caused her to choke on her cup of tea. Maybe not the skip of her heart that she felt happen behind her chest, that she was surprised was still intact after the heavy thumping of her heart muscle. But she knew the cameras would have picked up that moment, itself, and that was enough for people to pick apart.

She would have wanted the ground to swallow her whole if she made eye contact with his brown eyes… but would she have regretted getting caught? She’d be lying if she said yes.

“What do you reckon the plans are for the day?”

Steph tore YN from the distant gaze she had fallen into, sitting beside her with her own cup of tea, the stool twirling on its spot as she set her legs beneath the countertop. The sleeves of her long-sleeved bodysuit damp from the water in the kitchen sink but she didn’t seem to care at the uncomfortable feeling it must have emitted.

“Something fun,” YN hummed, setting her mug down on the coaster before her and clasping her hands together, resting them on her thighs, “given what last year was like, they’re gonna keep us on our toes. For sure.”

“You reckon? I was hoping for a day full of getting to know one another,” Steph laughed into her cup, placing the rim against her bottom lip and taking a good sip of her tea, or coffee; YN couldn’t figure it out, “no, definitely something fun. We’re a fun bunch already, I can tell. So I hope they give us a challenge that gets us all laughing.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Silence followed.

In the distance, you could hear the chaos unfold from the bellowing laughter and the shouting that bounced around the walls and, usually, she’d had been out of her seat to find out what the commotion was all about… being nosey; a flaw that she’d say she hated about herself but she just couldn’t help wanting to be a part of everything happening around her. Especially if it was something they’d be speaking about throughout the day, referring back to with inside jokes, insisting it was the ‘funniest thing to have witnessed’.

Except she was content sitting with Steph as she gave an aura that felt comforting, like they could sit together without needing to speak, and they’d still have a lovely time together.

“You’re looking real cute today,” Steph admitted, “that activewear co-ord is a must buy when I’m out of this place.”

“You think so? I figured we never really know what’s gonna happen in this place so it’s always good to go practical but also comfy,” YN stated, looking down at the shorts adorning her legs, enough to show off a little thigh but not too scandalous enough to show anything more, and a matching jumper sitting loose and baggy on her upper body that hid her curves away from the cameras and felt too soft to take off, “comfy and casual.”

“And gorgeous,” she winked, sliding off her chair and holding out her hand in YN’s direction, wiggling her fingers and awaiting the warmth of her hand before pulling her from the stool she was perched upon, “come on, let's go and sit with the others on the sofas. Feel like we’re missing all the good stuff going on in there.”

Time to herself.

YN found that was something that she was going to lack having in a house full of ten people for the next two weeks.

She lived alone back in London so she was used to her own company in her own living space, she was used to being alone with her own thoughts, and she was used to talking to herself (and sometimes answering herself), so it felt weird not being able to enter a room and be by herself for just a couple of minutes. She loved being around other people, she loved her friends, and she loved the conversation that came with being around more people but she thrived more by being by herself; she could get more done, she felt productive, she could think about things in more depth and she could enjoy the peace and quiet that she gave herself. She knew she was throwing that away once she agreed to be a part of the show during this season and she thought she’d have been okay… but she was struggling being a people-person when she really wasn’t, not one hundred percent.

Anytime the group came together and she saw it as an open opportunity to dash away and hide, she took it…

… and right now, that solace space was the make-up area outside the bathroom.

Where everyone had taken refuge in the downstairs lounge area, she had dipped away and disappeared up the stairs for a moment where she didn’t need to talk about her life or how she expected the rest of her time in the house to go. Using the excuse of needing to use the toilet so no one would follow her, not that it would have bothered her if someone wanted to check on her and make sure she was okay, in hopes she could have a ten minute break to recuperate with herself and herself only.

“You didn’t do any of that in the bathroom, did you? Did you do your make-up before you went in there?”

“What?”

A weird question, YN thought. Random and completely out of the blue, unsure as to why he’d even need to ask that question as well as to why he did ask the question. And his presence along with the sound of his footsteps jogging up the stairs, her name rolling off his tongue, and the break in the quiet had startled her because he wasn’t the first person on her list that she expected to come and find her. Although, in the pits of her stomach, there was a butterfly that tickled at her insides once she looked at him..

She stopped applying the lipgloss to her lips so she could reply to the question Arthur had shot in her direction, his figure coming to a halt in the open doorway of the bathroom, hands hesitant to touch anything that she may have touched with her fingertips.

“Your make-up. Did you do it before you went into the bathroom?”

“No, I just came out of there. I’m just applying a touch-up now. Why?”

“I’m just, I’m highly allergic to make-up. Something to do with the ingredients. I’m allergic to almost all of it, weirdly. I don’t know what specifically but whenever I’ve been with a girl who was wearing make-up, I would come out in hives and get rashes across my neck so I really don’t want a flare up to happen on camera,” he waffled on, nervously laughing as he lingered in front of the door, “I’m severely allergic.”

“Well, I won’t be giving you a kiss then,” YN teased softly, her face brightening with a deep pink shade that kept creeping across the expanse of her cheeks and across the bridge of her nose, “just in case.”

His own cheeks started heating up. Flirting or… banter? He was unsure, as someone who was terrible at reading social cues, but whatever it was and whatever made them feel so comfortable around each other, he felt okay with whatever was happening.

“No, seriously, did you apply it just now? Because I’m allergic to so much stuff in it. If I touch it, I’m in need of medical assistance straight away.”

“I’m just using lipgloss, no powders or anything. Just touching up,” she told him, “I promise. I’ve not touched it. You’re safe to go in.”

“You’re serious?”

“I’m a hundred percent serious. I never touched anything but this lipgloss,” YN admitted, holding her hands up in the air, “you can trust me, Arthur. I wouldn’t lie about something this serious. I’d be made a villain if I did that to you.”

He disappeared into the bathroom and she looked at her appearance in the mirror and, through the reflection, her eyes dipped to the cotton-wool pads sitting in a packet on a stool behind her.

Maybe she could go make-up less for the rest of the day…

… yet Arthur felt terrible.

With a secret challenge being given to him that morning, of lying to his fellow housemates throughout the day for bonus points, he had dread sitting low in his stomach that made him nervous to think about let alone attempt a little white lie. Given that the majority of the people around him didn’t know much about him privately, he knew that he could spew a lot of make-believe in their direction and insist it was the truth. His only query was whether he was believable enough for them to not question anything about it.

“Thank you,” his voice echoed from the bathroom, muffled by the closed door that hid away his privacy, and she smiled softly at the sincerity of his voice. A cotton-wool pad soaked in make-up remover collecting the foundation and the concealer that was coating her cheeks, smearing moisture across her skin that she used a dry pad to soak it up, “the last thing I wanted to do was scare you with a reaction on the second day.”

“Yeah, I’d have walked out if that happened,” she admitted, “moved country, changed my name, deleted myself off the internet and gaslighted people into believing I never existed. One mention of myself and I’d deny everything,” she diverted her attention from her reflection in the mirror and to the man standing in the doorway of the bathroom, “seriously.”

“I’d still come and find you.”

The last hour was playing on her mind.

Arthur’s admission confused her; she hadn’t felt a lot of them in the house were at the stage where they were sharing facts and secrets so private and so confidential about themselves that no one really needed to know about them. She thought it was sweet, because he felt comfortable enough to tell her bits about his life that he’d never shared with anyone before, but she also thought it to be inessential.

And in a daze, zoning out and forgetting where she was, with her eyes focusing on the far distance of the garden where the sun kissed the grass where the grass met the fence guarding the perimeter of the house, completely unaware of what was happening around her and how everyone was treating the moment as a karaoke session. The chill in the air was bitter and it covered her exposed skin in goosebumps, her legs still bare as she’d not yet changed from the shorts she’d worn for breakfast that morning, the jumper being the only article of clothing to give her a sense of warmth.

“Grant my last request and just let me hold you..”

She situated herself on the padded garden chair she found herself on, listening to the chorus of voices singing Paolo Nutini before her, all in different pitches and octaves and it sounded like a complete mess yet she couldn’t help but join in.

“Lay down beside me..”

She found herself swaying beside Johnny with mirrored movements, hands following in suit, and their small chorus came to a quick end once Arthur had stepped foot out the patio doors with a football, gaining interest from the boys who she was sat with, involuntarily positioning themselves in a semi-circle so they could kick and pass the ball amongst themselves.

“I was saying to these guys here,” Arthur started, looking to his left and indicating to Anisa and Anastasia, juggling the football between his hands as he stood before everyone in the huddle they’d all chosen to stand in, “you know that I do reaction and commentary videos? Well, I actually started on a singing channel-”

There’s a chorus of ‘oooh’s and ‘aaah’s that sounded around the group.

“-and I started off doing covers but… this is actually a bit of a sad story, to be fair,” he took a pause and looked around the group before him. All eyes on him as they awaited to hear the next sentence out of his mouth, “I did it for the longest time but the dislike to like ratio was through the roof. My family were literally just like ‘you’ve got to stop, you’re honestly wasting so much of your time, you’ve got to give it up.’”

A chorus of gentle and sympathetic sounds came from various members of the very few of them listening to him, unknowingly frowning like they were part of this story, and he continued without a query.

“Like, I think my family just thought I was so tone deaf that they were like, ‘if we invested money in singing lessons then it would just-’ like, they didn’t want to entertain the full stream of becoming a singing talent on Youtube,” he feigned a smile and nodded slowly, “it hurt. It crushed me.”

“Did you want to pursue it?”

“Yeah, of course, but they just drummed into me that it wasn’t worth it so I carried on posting them and hoped that over time I’d just get better and better from practising and I’d progress without the need for lessons and such. No need for a tutor or whatever,” Arthur explained, shrugging nonchalantly and chucking the ball to Jamie, who had silently beckoned for the ball in his hands, “I finally realised that maybe it was just not doing well so I stopped. Deleted the channel. Never spoke of it again… until today and I’m hoping it doesn’t come back to bite me on the arse now I’ve brought it up again.”

“The internet is a cruel place sometimes,” Spuddz stated, hums of agreement following suit, “brutal.”

“That I now know,” Arthur gave a tight-lipped and sympathetic smile, “not that anyone has recognised me for it yet or anything.

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“Arthur and YN to the Store Room.”

As YN stood to her feet, Arthur felt the tug on his wrist from the cold restraint of the handcuffs clipped together, prompting him to stand on his own two feet, following her in suit as they trudged through the bedroom. Their shoes squeaked on the floor beneath them with each step they took, descending the couple of stairs outside the bedroom and entering the store room, closing the door behind them in case Sugarlips went on the topic of gameplans for the challenge they were all partaking in that day.

The handcuffs suddenly felt heavier to her.

Every so often, throughout the afternoon, YN would forget she was attached to Arthur by their wrists and it would be in moments like that, where they were sitting together and talking about the metal elephants in the room, that she was reminded of the challenge they’d all been set. She enjoyed the feeling of having Arthur close to her side, it gave them more of an opportunity to get to know one another because they had no choice but to talk to each other… and Arthur would very much agree to that.

“How do you feel having zero points?”

“Sugarlips, I don’t like the assumption in your voice there,” YN playfully frowned at the camera, standing high on the tripod before her and Arthur, “you’re assuming we’re not going to get any points for this challenge.”

“The challenge is almost over. The day, too.”

“We’ve still got time,” Arthur stated, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, “have some faith in us. We’re a dream team.”

“A dream team you are,” Sugarlips said, “everyone is loving you two together.”

“It’s because we bring the content,” YN teased the camera, “we might not be winning but we’re having fun and that’s all that matters. Because it’s not all about winning, it’s about the fun times we had and the friends we made along the way.”

“Great friends,” Arthur grinned widely, lifting their locked-up hands up and sticking out his little finger in hopes that YN would latch hers around it. To which she obeyed. And they shook their hands in a polite way, “see?”

“Friends,” Sugarlips reiterated and a smirk appeared on YN’s lips at the insinuation, her eyes diverting from the camera and to her lap, head dipping down to her chest in an attempt to hide to desire in her eyes that she know would never go ignored, “you’re definitely more friendly than everyone else, Footasylum is loving the attention you’re bringing to the brand.”

“Oh, I bet you are,” YN jeered and, beside her, Arthur gave out a snort in the form of a laugh, “we better be getting some proper recognition for this, Footasylum.”

If there was one thing Arthur found complete comfortability in, it was chess.

Seeing the chessboard in one of the cupboards in the house, he felt a little more at home because it was something he was used to playing on the outside to pass the time or to keep himself busy.

At home, he had a board set up that he would test out different matches on and play against pretend partners to try and better his approach whenever he did play someone with a good ability to the game. On his phone, he had apps that allowed him to play games against people from all across the globe, some taking their time and allowing him one move a day and some taking just mere minutes before the game was over because it was a challenging game for those who didn’t understand the thought behind each and every move. Whenever he was with his friends, he was testing them on what each piece was and how they could move on the board, explaining what checkmate meant and the easiest ways to win each match they played. It was his hobby outside of work and it brought him immense pleasure in winning every game, an accomplishment in his eyes.

“You’ve been spending a bit of time with YN, haven’t you?” Jemel questioned Arthur, coming to his rest period of his workout and asking almost completely out of the blue, into the silence as Arthur taught Spuddz the rules of chess, “in fact, a lot of time. Not that it’s a bad thing. She’s lovely from what we know of her.”

“It shouldn’t be a bad thing,” Arthur laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as he leant back on the beanbag beneath him and watched as Spuddz thought about his next move on the board in the middle of the table between them, “she’s lovely. She looked a bit nervous walking in yesterday and I was just being a nice person, I guess. That’s who I am.”

Jemel smirked at Arthur's admission and Spuddz cackled before making a move with one of his pawns on the board.

“Just give us a go to get to know her,” Spuddz smacked Arthur on the knee closest to him, heat rising up the back of the boy’s neck, “don’t keep her all to yourself.”

“We’re just becoming friends, that’s all,” Arthur held his hands up in admittance, slight panic coursing his veins because he wasn’t searching for love or treating Locked In like a reality TV show based on finding love within the two weeks, and he didn’t want to seem desperate enough and make it seem he was giving his undivided attention to one person, “she’s easy to talk to. And we’ve only been here less than twenty-four hours.”

“It only takes twenty-four hours, buddy,” Spuddz teased him, standing to his feet and playing on the red blush that covered Arthur’s cheeks, “she’s a lovely girl though. Never really heard of her before her name was mentioned in the line-up. She must be new on the scene outside but she’s got something good going for her.”

“She’ll make it on the outside because of how nice she is and how she gels with everyone so quickly,” Jemel said, wrapping his hands around the bar of the weights he was lifting, flexing his arms as he pulled each one close to his chest before releasing the muscles, “she’s definitely going to become a known person from this, regardless of whether she wins or not. I think she’s a gem.”

“Yeah,” Arthur nodded, eyes still attached to the chequerboard on the table, “me too. Besides, we’ve been handcuffed together all afternoon so of course, we’ve spent a lot of time together today.”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” Jemel said, placing the weights down by his feet and leaning back on the seat of the piece of gym equipment he was perched upon, “to be fair, me and Steph had some in depth conversations today whilst being handcuffed together so I definitely think that challenge was to help us figure out who we’re able to get close to here. Some of us have gelled together really quickly.”

Spuddz and Arthur nodded in agreement, their attention going back to thinking about the moves they could make on the chessboard between them, Arthur’s hand hovering over one of his pieces as he thought carefully about what his next move would allow and whether he could get himself into a position that would give him a pretty good chance at winning.

“It has me excited though,” Spuddz claimed, “like, the next two weeks are going to be great fun getting to know each other and what we’re all truly like.”

“Why is Arthur on-”

“Arthur, why do you have 4 points?”

“Well,” he laughed and clapped his hands, rubbing them together in a mocking manner, “I was given a secret challenge to do, throughout the day today, where I had to lie to you guys.”

“Lie to us?”

“Arthur-”

“So, I told you guys I started out posting singing covers on a Youtube channel that didn’t take off…” he paused as everyone remembered the conversation from earlier that morning, “yeah, that one was a lie.”

He watched as mouths fell gaped open.

“I also had convinced YN that I was highly allergic to make-up and that I’d swell up really badly if I came in contact with it,” he slowly looked up and made eye contact with YN and she stood there in shock, her eyes widening, “I lied about that. I’m not allergic. If you take a closer look, you’ll see I’ve got a really spotty forehead and I’ve got concealer covering them up…”

“You sneaky git!” She screeched, laughter emitting from the group and she took long strides in his direction and gave his shoulder a smack with her palm, “you really had me worried. I kept thinking I’d accidentally smeared foundation or setting spray on the door handle of the toilet or something and that you were gonna stumble in with a face so swollen up that it could have killed you.”

She frowned and he placed his arm over her shoulder and pulled her into his side, her face disappearing under his arm and into his armpit, hiding the blush that made come over all hot and bothered yet she could feel him laughing, “I’m so sorry.”

“What was the third?” Jemel asked, leaning on the back of the sofa, “you’ve done well so far.”

“So the third was that I had to tell Jamie I was part of an academy as I grew up. I wasn’t. The guy I told you about was just great at football in university, played for the football team, but he didn’t step foot in an academy in Jersey to my knowledge,” he admitted and Jamie just stared at him in shock, “that one wasn’t so difficult to play along with.”

“Nah, but, I actually believed you. I actually believed you,” Jamie stated, “I know you’re from Jersey. I know you play football. I know you’re good at football. I saw you at Clash of Creators, bro.”

“That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I thought, for sure, you’d have caught on,” Arthur laughed, his arm squeezing YN tighter to his side as she stood with her arm wrapped around his waist, “but oh my god, that was so fun. And so worth the four points.”

“You’re a bloody good liar, Arthur Television,” Steph cackled, reaching towards him and squeezing his shoulders, “that was scary good.”

“I studied law for good reason,” Arthur smirked, “it can come in handy sometimes.”

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bunny-jpeg · 3 months ago

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kink-o-ween - day twenty-two

george russell - mirror sex

tags: pwp/smut, insecure!reader, mirror sex, praise, established relationship, loving!george, teasing, doggy style, pull out method

a/n: heyyy, kinkoween is being finished (yay), october was a rough month for me. but i am back and ready to post the rest of it! thank you for the support and patience, it has really benefited me both emotionally and creatively!

kink-o-ween master-list

"what do you mean, my love?" george looked at you. an expression of worry crossed his handsome features.

you shifted from one foot to another. it felt weird to say it out loud. you felt your cheeks grow hot. this felt stupid, but you swallowed down the feeling. you looked at him and said, "george, i'm not pretty."

his expression changed a little and he reached for you. his hands so kind on your face as he looked you in the eyes. he replied, "well, of course you're not pretty. you're beautiful. the most beautiful woman i've ever seen or met."

the mirror in your shared bedroom with george was full length. it was good to make sure everything looked as it should without cutting anything off. you looked in it almost every day before you left the apartment. now it took on a different meaning as george put you on your knees in front of it.

he was behind you. you were still in the sundress that showed y a healthy amount of cleavage. a nice display for your lover. and george loved to sight of you in it. an off-white with apples on it.

"so beautiful." he said softly, "so, so beautiful." why don't you see what i see?"

"my chicken wing arms. how round my face is." you started, but were silenced as george turned your head to kiss you passionately on the lips.

"i don't want to hear it." he said, "so what? you look amazing in every angle. you're perfect in every angle i see of you."

you blushed before george gave you another sweet kiss. he then started to unzip the dress. while it looked great on you, it would look even better on the floor.

"you're so pretty... no, no, beautiful." he said softly as he pulled the sleeves of the dress off of you shoulders. he kissed the back of the left one and you made a soft noise.

"george."

he only responded by placing his lips on your neck as he wrapped his strong arms around you. he was always your protector. your lover. there was no need to have insecurities when he was with you. he then said, "look at yourself." he cooed and it made you shiver with want.

you shifted a little on your knees before you helped george get you out of your dress. george loved you in a good sundress, but to see if off of you. naked before him. it made him do a double take.

"look at you." he said, "look how beautiful you are." he tilted your head to the side to press a tender kiss at your pulse point.

"i just see myself." you said he rubbed himself up against you. you knew his cock was straining against his expensive jeans.

"say something nice about yourself." he said, "be nice to yourself." he knew it was hard for you. so he had to get creative about ways to help you gain a bit of confidence.

"george."

"just one thing." he egged you on as he held you in his arms. you were near nude in front of the mirror. exposed to yourself and your lover.

you replied, "i guess. i like my smile." you felt heat in your core. you felt the throb between your legs.

your lover kissed your temple, "excellent." he said with love. he got you out of your undergarments. this his clothes. both of you naked in front of the mirror. george caught glimpses of your naked for. he held onto your hips for a moment before he kissed your neck and shoulders.

"honey." you said as you ended up on your elbows with your hips raised for him. it excited your lover. the driver was enamored by you, in all the ways he could be.

he tilted your hips a little more and he sank his cock into you. inch by inch as he eased into you. he cursed under his breath for a moment before he said, "i love you. every inch of you. you drive me insane. i never want anyone else in my life." the fire fueled in his stomach as he started to move against you.

"you flirt." you moaned as you held onto the edge of the rug under you. the piece was expensive enough that you weren't going to get rug burn by the end of it.

george chuckles and said with love, "it's not flirting when it's the truth."

you moaned, "i love you too." and shifted your hips a little to get more comfortable.

"say something else about yourself. i want to hear it." he groaned as he moved against you. he could see the pleasure across your face in the reflection of the mirror.

your flushed a little bit. you felt the sting of heat in your ears, "just one other thing?" you asked as he thrusted.

"just one more."

you looked in the mirror as you were fucked with steady thrusts. you glimpsed at yourself and licked your lips, "i love my eyes. they're not the most interesting, but they're pretty. and i like that i can always make you laugh."

george smiled before he leaned over you further and kissed your face in places he could reach, "see was that so bad? saying nice things about yourself." his tone was a little teasing and it made your core feel warm.

you shuddered and moaned a little louder as you felt immense pleasure. you were aroused by this. to see your boyfriend make love to you.

"i love you." you moaned.

george shakily exhaled, "i love you too, every chance i get. i always need to tell you how much you mean to me." his words made you moan, your pleasure coursed through your body and in your blood. you clutched tightly onto the rug as you kept your gaze on the mirror in front of you.

"look at yourself." he purred as he worked his cock into you. your wetness left him feeling hot all over. he glanced at the mirror. he licked his lips at the sight of you.

he wished you saw what he saw everyday. how stunning you were both in appearance and also personality. you were a fire in george's soul, the inferno in his blood as he continued to rock against you. praise flowed freely from his lips and his words warmed your soul.

"you're so beautiful." he said as he moved against you nice and slow. his thrusts had force behind them, but he was gentle with you. you moaned and george kissed your bare back.

"please, fuck, honey."

"you can't stop me praising you." he remarked, "i want you to feel like you're on top of the world. that no one could stop you." he said as moved a little faster.

you could feel the pleasure bubble in your core as the rush flowed through you. you could feel the intense feeling all over you. you moaned, "i love you." you had no other words.

"and i love you." he promised as he worked his hips against your sweet cunt. your pussy felt amazing around his cock. george looked in the mirror at the sight of you drenched in pleasure.

you looked at the two of you, caught the sight of your lover staring. even now he looked s handsome. he pushed hair out of his face and the two of you continued to make love on the floor. your knees ached a little from the position but at that moment you didn't care.

"my beautiful girl." he said with heat tinged in his voice as he felt his orgasm close.

you were the first to finish with your face against the rug. you held onto it and moaned loudly. george worked your hips as he came soon after. hr pulled out and finished on your back with a tight groan. he shuddered and his cock twitched when he saw his cum covering your back.

"so, do you believe me now? that i think you're beautiful." he panted heavily. as he leaned back on his heels for a moment to admire you. he wiped the sweat from his forehead. it wasn't long before he was up off the ground to get tissues to clean your back with.

you admitted, "yes... i believe you." and when george returned he kissed you on the cheek before he cleaned you up. you melted a little at the touches.

if anyone thought you were beautiful, it would be george. and as you got your underwear back on, you admired yourself in the mirror. and maybe george was right. you were beautiful. <3

#bunny writes #kink o ween #kinktober #reader insert #formula one imagine #formula one smut #formula 1 #f1 smut #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader #george russell x you #george russell smut #george russell x reader #george russell imagine #george russell #gr63 smut #gr63 x reader #gr63 x you #gr63

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smusherina · 10 months ago

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yard work - chapter 4 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

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

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x oc #regina george x you #regina george x ofc #mean girls x reader #reader insert #wlw #lesbian regina george #mean girls musical #janis imi'ike #janis ian #fic: yard work

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