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akutasoda · 13 days

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hi hi ml!!! we’ve only recently become moots but i hope you dont mind me joining your event 🫶‼️ if star rail is still open, wb boothill & aventurine !! with general domestic stuff !! specifically cooking or baking with him ;; i wonder how that would go

also thank you again for the opportunity 💕💕

a life with you

synopsis - a domestic lifestyle with them

includes - aventurine, boothill

warnings - gn!reader, domestic stuff, fluff, slight angst at the start, slight crack, teasing, wc - 675

a/n: hii ren! don't mind at all <3

aventurine ★↷

↪a domestic setting to aventurine is something to be treasured with your loved ones. he loved his family and he still does but now after all this time, the person he gets to experience domestic bliss with is you.

↪to him, being with you in that domestic style is one of the only places where he can show his weaknesses. it's just you and him so if you've made it this far with him he trusts you enough to show his most vulnerable side.

↪it would be a change of pace compared to his life as one of the stonehearts but a very welcome change. he'll let himself indulge heavily in the moments of peace with you as he knows that being with you is the closest thing he can get to being safe.

↪due to being a stoneheart, he is prone to being sent across the galaxy quite often and with you in his life he does try and get back to you as quick as possible. alot of the time he gets back late as well so doesn't encourage you to wait up for him but if you do, his heart melts so much.

↪once he gets really comfortable with you, you can start seeing him become more open and honest with his words and actions. he likes to embrace you whenever he can and sometimes catches himself unconsciously searrching for your figure even if you're right next to him.

↪maybe has some cooking or baking skills but would be extremely limited - very open to learn however and whether it's out of genuine interest or just an excuse to be with you is up in the air. very willing to help you anywhere and so cooking or baking is no exception.

↪would be a surprisingly good baker/cook. it takes him a little while to get into it but when he does he becomes very efficient. no accidents would occur when you two cook or bale together and whatever you'd make would turn out very good.

boothill ★↷

↪a galaxy ranger, a bounty hunter, a cowboy. boothill was many things, constantly moving around to chase his next target - he didn't live for himself afterall. he never settled in one area for too long and so domestic activities were irrelevant in his life.

↪he probably had a higher probability of experiencing domestic activities when he was human but definitely not as a cyborg. he just doesn't have time for such trivial things that wouldn't give him the homeliness that it would to anyone else. or so he thought.

↪you made alot of things that seemed pointless to his cold metal body worthwhile. he may not be able to feel the same feelings he used to but atleast with you he could fully convince himself that he could. so that domestic feeling becomes real to him.

↪ it's never really a dull day when boothill's around, although if you asked him he'd tone down his slight hyperactive mind. he isn't that energetic at home but he can get very loud and annoying sometimes especially when you knwo he's trying to tease you

↪he's very touchy both in and out of a private setting, sometimes tones it down if you aren't really a pda type. while he may not be able to feel you under his cold fingertips he can instead feel a comfort in knowing nobody would dare mess with you when you have him practically slumped on top of you. also is a massive bed hogger - you have to fight him for even a slither of the bed.

↪cooking probably isn't one of boothill's strong suits. whether or not he actually need to consume food is unknown - he probably doesn't but because he does have a human face he probably can still taste. however he'd gladly entertain you if you wanted cook or bake with him.

↪ absolutely no help whatsoever. most likely does not know how to cook or bake but would insist he does just to nearly set things on fire. if you really wanted him to help you probably have to distract him by telling him to hand you ingredients or stir things but then he'd insist to help - do you think he could pull up recipes in his mind?

akutasoda's 1k event

#↪♡akutasoda's 1k event ♡#✧↠ mutuals : ren!#—stellaronhvnters.#x reader #x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail aventurine #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #honkai star rail boothill #hsr boothill #boothill x reader

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vanderilnde · 2 months

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world stopped when #that gym vid went live. i blacked out and woke up with this in my drafts. dont remember a thing. enjoy.

cw for dubcon smut, breaking and entering, soap dragging you across the ground, fleeting knifeplay, and greasy ex bf soap!!!!!!

You wake in a daze.

Your mouth is hot and clammy, tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. Your eyelashes are glued together with sleep, your underarms perspiry and the skin of your back dewy.

It’s the baby monitor that stirred you. Languidly capitalising off your motherly instincts, thinly crackling and humming and rousing you awake. When you reorient, the indistinct, enigmatic shadow in the corner of your room turns into a pile of undone laundry. You rub your eyes, hackles raised, as the baby rustles, her fussing carrying through the monitor, tinny and jangling as she whines.

You swing your legs over the mattress, and her whines ripen into giggles. They’re high-pitched and brayed, accompanied by her clapping hands. She’s squealing while you edge into your slippers, wrapping your arms around your slip dress, padding into the corridor.

Your eyes are too unfocused and filmy to notice the telltale signs. Your panties missing from your hamper, your closet open and forged. The lockbox where you keep your pistol pulled from under your bed and unlatched. Empty.

You turn the corner to your daughter’s room and freeze. There’s a glow spilling from it, into the hall. It’s her owl-themed nightlight, soft and moulded around a pair of kevlar-plated shoulders. Outlining a clunky chest rig and a heavy belt. Longer hair, curled at its ends and flat with sweat. The shadow of a knife. The steel of a gun.

It’s the reaper himself, and he’s made his way into your home.

Your mind wrestles between attacking him and sneaking away to call the police. He’s a harvester of life, a macabre memory unheralded and in the middle of your house, but your baby is, at least, safe with him. Stronger than the scythe he carries—his own flesh and blood. You peel your feet off the floor and creep backwards, fleet-footed and rushing down the stairs and into your kitchen, working your way around furniture in the dark. You don’t turn on the light, don’t want to run the risk, so you bump into the lip of your counter, reaching over it and grasping the landline.

It’s bulky in your hand. Almost slips out with how sweaty your palms are, with how you scramble to dial the police.

But you feel him before you see him.

It’s like echolocation. He’s using his skill, you know, to sneak up behind you. Capitalising off whatever he learned in the military to soften his feet and prowl behind you. It’s his breathing that’s low and rumbling, reflecting off your spine, rolling like thunder.

It’s now, you remember, that Johnny is an ambush predator.

He leans over you before you hit the dial, smashing the hang-up button. A long honk succeeds it and precedes deafening silence.

Your lips warble. You clutch the phone to your chest, quivering, and steel yourself. “How did you get in?”

Johnny chuckles, and it rumbles against your spine. Through the silk canopy of your slip dress and into your bone.

“Wore this for me?” He ignores your question. Noses the strap of your slip so it curls like a wisp of hair off your shoulder. “Y’know I love this colour on ye.”

“I want you to leave, Jonathan.”

He spins you around. Bullies you back and cuts the hind of your spine into your countertop. He looks rugged and stinks of sulfur, like he came straight from downrage, and chucks your slip over your hips, kneading your flesh.

“Ye can’t keep me from my bairn,” Johnny mumbles. He wraps his arms around you like a serpentine, licking a belt up your neck. “We’re in this together. Isn’t fair of ye t’hide from me.”

“You’re sick in the head,” you sneer.

Johnny’s cheeks engorge around a malformed, gnarled grin. He feeds off your disgust, a flayed moan ripping from his throat, as he reaches down to palm his cock.

“Say it again,” he huffs. “Tell me how sick I am, hen.”

You draw your hand back and swing it across Johnny’s face in rash judgement. He stumbles back in shock, his cheek burning with a ruddy hue beneath the peppery hair of his beard. He blinks, catatonic, and rubs his face. The silence is ear-splitting. Like the calm before the storm.

Then, you’re free-falling. Johnny grips you by your hair and pulls you to the floor. It’s now, you realise, that you’ve gravely miscalculated his strength. His calibre of ruthlessness as he forcefully tugs you along, heedless if your shins bump into the corner walls or grate against the carpet. He pulls you outside, over the wide-combed, lightly-pitted brick of your driveway, towards his scrap metal pickup truck that’s been eaten away by yellow rust and dog-eared bumper stickers.

The hem of your silk slip turns threadbare as you’re dragged across the ground. You shiver as the cold air furls over the wet smudge he’d licked up your neck. You consider yelling into the night. For help, for atonement, to right whatever wrong you’ve done to deserve this. To deserve him. But Johnny slaps a palm over your mouth before you’re able to do anything. His hand is so big, splaying over the expanse of your face.

This, you suppose, is your penance.

The door to his truck rasps as he swings it open. He throws you inside with a dull thud and awkwardly clobbers in behind you, too big for the door, his stature exemplified with all his clunky tactical gear.

He sinks his knees into the pleather bench seat, grinning as if he’s done nothing wrong.

“Dinnae mind the mess, hen,” he laughs. There’s mud-clogged boots thrown on the bed floor, a couple of plastic water bottles littered around the front. “Wasnae expectin’ you ta put up a fight.”

Johnny shucks his jeans to his boots, followed by his boxers. His cock springs out, long and hard and lazy against his navel as he leans back, languidly stroking it.

He smooches your cheek, and his beard—something he’d grown recently—is spindly like steel wool, dragging against the hull of your ear.

“Did I pull ye too hard?” Johnny asks. His concern is masked with a colour of arousal, lukewarm and lacking in conviction. “Dinna fash yerself, I’ll pay for yer salon appointment.”

When you plaintively sniffle, Johnny starts jerking off faster. Meaner. His fist tightly winded around his cock, his cheeks pink and his puppy lips parted open. His lashes fluttering as his eyes roll back, every sigh and gasp out of him materialising as off-white smoke in the cold tract of his truck.

The sticky sound of Johnny rolling his palm over his raw cock is too much. Precum drools over him, between his thighs, indigo and pearlescent in the moonlight. Your eyes are dewy but your pussy is swelling. It clings to your panties, as hot as it is uncomfortable.

“No need to be a minter,” he pants. Releases his dick with a pinch and lets it hang, reaching out to you. His slick, big hand swallows your flinch and pulls you close. Fishes the combat knife from his pocket, twisting it in the light. “I’ll help you, Birdy.”

Johnny slips the knife below the band of your slip dress. He tilts it up, slicing the strap over the steeple of his knife, letting it curl off your body and reveal your breasts, your tits goose-fleshed in the frigid air of his truck.

He takes it upon himself to repeal that. Johnny leans forward and latches his lips around you, flicking his tongue around your nipple, kneading your other breast with his opposite hand. He doesn’t stop going back and forth until you try peeling him off, squirming, trying to push him away.

Johnny’s as sturdy as a steel wall. He chuckles, low and hollow, and pulls off his gloves, snaking his hand lower. Towards your pussy that radiates an unwelcomed, pulsing heat. Johnny’s fingers are deft and hardened, splitting you open like a fleshy fruit, coaxing out your honeyed juices, fingering around for that sweet spot. He grins when you writhe, and he knows he’s found it. Knuckle-deep and deeply-seated in your warm cunt, curling his fingers, pushing the heel of his palm into your clit and sinking himself deeper.

You wildly flail your legs like a deflated balloon trying to fly away. It’s to tame a feral animal as Johnny pins you down, crawling over you, his fingers sinking deeper and the pad of his thumb circling your clit. You preen with embarrassment at the sticky, wet sound of your cunt spreading open.

“Just as tight fo’ me,” he mumbles. His words melt through your lips and into your lungs. Burns you from the inside out. “Didn’t shag anyone while I was gone? Kept yerself sweet for me?”

A sob wracks your ribs. It prompts Johnny to go a little deeper, a little meaner, in how he curls his fingers into your walls. Your sticky spine peels off the pleather seats, shiny with sweat and shaking, and suddenly, Johnny pulls out. You feel yourself crash into nothing, your winking hole stretched empty and cold. Your thighs, quivering.

“How about ye gimme another, eh?” He says. Lifts you up like you weigh nothing and drops you onto his thighs. Lines his fat cockhead up with your clit, gives it a few, irritable taps. “Always wanted a hoachin’ family.”

Johnny tries to ram it in, you think, but he’s too thick. It requires time and patience, squeezing into you, but those are two things Johnny doesn’t have. It feels like you’re being flayed as Johnny slams himself into you. He shatters you as he pushes himself deeper, his hold on your waist breaking your skin, his hips ripening into a bruising, splitting pace. Johnny rubs his tongue along the round of his cheek and spits on your cunt. It slips down, over your clit, frothy around the base of his cock.

Sweat travels down the coils of his beard, dripping onto you. You’re folded in half as Johnny batters into you, pounding you with a lack of inhibition. He chases after his orgasm like a dog chases after its own tail, the stretch of your pussy around his cock so stifling it flares into a sweeping pleasure.

He reaches down and blindly swipes your clit. It’s sloppy. The dead, rough skin of his thumb pressing down on your bud and tracing circles with a slap-happy hand. It’s a disgusting mix of stickiness and squelches. The windows fog up, and your legs tremble. Johnny’s hips slam into you sharper, and you feel your orgasm shivering like a gurgling kettle. Hot to the touch and almost at your climax, expelling white hisses of steam.

It rockets into you without warning. You’re scratching and crying, and he’s rolling into you. Slowly, as if that’ll sink him deeper, as he gives you his come. Thick, white ropes that paint your walls and plant a seed. You gush around him and Johnny peppers you with kisses as if that will placate you. As if that’s his cobbled together, screwed up idea of penance.

He lets his cock soften in you. Johnny rests his head on your shoulder, kissing it. He slips out and a thick, shapeless wad of come follows suit. Sticking to the pleather of his seats, leaving you empty.

Johnny collapses, falling on you like a dog that doesn’t know how big it is. Feels for the come that slips out of you and uses his fingers to stuff it back in.

“Left the door unlocked agin,” he mumbles. “Guess ya wanted me to find ya, ye ken, Birdy?”

#johnny mactavish x reader #soap mactavish smut #soap mactavish x reader #cod mw2 #soap/reader #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish

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ramons-elevator · 10 months

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Bad mentioned on his stream that all the dead eggs lives impacted how different we treat the eggs on the server and I realized that EVERY egg death changed history on the server and how we treat the eggs.

Juanaflippa- Obviously her second death made everyone very weary with the beds (and the admins bc i believe they made the beds harder to break). But her third death with sweeping edge and how everyone needs to be careful around the eggs with swords.

Tilin - Their death kinda goes hand in Juanaflippa about how NOT TO USE SWORDS around the eggs. But also Charlie went into eggxcile because of Tilins death and that snowballed into Gegg. Also helped with Luzu’s character and how he switched to Arin and with the computer/Code.

Chayanne- Technically chayanne lost their first life to neglect BUT the nightmare Phil, chayanne, and Tallulah had i believe introduced ‘nightmares’. Also it made the admins disable some born in chaos mobs and made Philza even more paranoid about the island than he already was.

Bobby - his death was the first permadeath we had since the trio died. It hurt a lot and made Forever realize that his death could have been prevented. Thus making Forever build the Ninho and make everyone very cautious of everything.

Ramon - same with Chayanne’s were his first death was to a Blaze but his nightmare was significant. It made the admins make solid ground rules about certain things and make sure everyone knows the rules about reinforced bases.

Leo- Her death with whales made everyone realized how fucking beefy and super dangerous the whales are. Also that you shouldnt just AFK anywhere. That you should try to be in a safe place before AFKing.

Dapper - His first death was SUPER significant. It made people realize that the code is learning and adapting. Thus made Bad, Forever, Cellbit, and Etoiles go to Luzus computer and explode it. Which lead to Forever getting pieces of the computer and getting the motivation to try to bargain with it. Which lead to Cellbits betrayal and enderchests getting banned. It also gave the most insane book by Cucurcho which is “Perfect for you or for me?”

Richarlyson- His first day nightmare gave us that the eggs have first day immunity. Then his actual death showed us that uhh fuck bulls and that Mike blames himself for Richas death to this day. Also gave us Imortalyson and kinda Richarlyson’s mindset of ‘fuck it we ball’. All he has ever known is one life.

Trumpet - THE MOST IMPORTANT DEATH ON THE FUCKING SERVER HOLY SHIT. Yes Trumpet died from neglect but his death lead to the Theory Bros. For those who dont know, Bad went to Maxs house to comfort him about Trumpets death and one of the ways he tried to get Maxs mind off of Trumpets death is talk about how weird the island is. Thus Bad and Max theorizing about the island and the rest is history. Also it lead to Max and Bad interacting more and kinda making Max talk to more people around the island.

Tallulah - Her nightmare with Phil and Chayanne has significance as stated above. But her death with the Code is significant because it was the first time Forever saw an egg’s death. It deeply upset him and made him a lot more serious about the eggs. Also again made Philza more paranoid.

Pomme- She hasnt died yet but her nightmare I would say is pretty significant. Kinda with Ramons nightmare, it helped give the players, admins, and audience some more rules on things and what the admins can/cant do. It also made everyone realize “Holy shit theres a weapon that does 50000 damage and will one shot you and destroy your armor” which is terrifying on its own.

Everything is so significant on this fucking island and every egg is extra significant to this island. No death is taken in vain. They truly shaped the island and everything we know about it

#qsmp #qsmp eggs #qsmp chayanne #qsmp trump #qsmp trumpet #qsmp tilin #qsmp tilín #qsmp bobby #qsmp dapper #qsmp ramón #qsmp ramon #qsmp leonarda #qsmp juanaflippa #qsmp tallulah #qsmp pomme #qsmp richarlyson

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ssolarcalendarr · 2 years

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i wonder what would happen if i got a B but then again i may not come back

#when your parents expect nothing less than an A-#or just A in general #um. i may have set too good of a stanard when i was little and now i am. suffering #because oh my god i am literally THIS CLOSE to just. making my grade drop to a B by not doing this project #but then again....... laughs nervously #i have experienced a B once and my excuse was. i wasn't paying attention it was distance learning for my young deprived mind #eye flutters #but now its like. im back in school. and. uh. i have no excuse #i will. die #also like B grades. scare me a bit bc im not used to seeing that. nor having it so. I'm scared of what will ever happen #like what if my phone gets taken away that's so sad and worrying #so. if i get b grades in the future. just know I'm living with like excruciating dread and guilt and displeasure bc yeah i dont think i #could live. like that. it hurts me emotionally and mentally soooo bad #but like the state imm in is like. just as bad bc I'm overworking myself burnt out and dying on the floor while typing this #im stressing myself out bc i have the mindset of YOU HAVE TO DO THIS NOW OR ESE YOU WILL DO SOO BAD ON IT YOU SUCK #so. grades are funny can we light them on fire and let them burn

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ziggyzolch · 29 days

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Queen Bee-atch III (Regina George x reader)

These chapters have been up on ao3 and wattpad but I figured i'd put them here as well.

Warnings: Cursing, use of F-slur but its kind of stupid so dont worry

✮✮✮

“You look like hell.” It was Thursday and Janis had invited you over. “Thanks,” you mumble out while pushing past her into her house. You could navigate her house blind, it's basically your second home now. You go into her room and flop straight into her bed. “You still having trouble sleeping?” Janis asks while plopping down onto the floor. She was surrounded by music sheets and crumpled up paper, her guitar on the ground next to her. You sluggishly sit up and look at her, “Yeah, I just can’t stop thinking.” “About what?” “Nothing, I don’t know,” You push the palms of your hands against your eyes.

You and Janis have weekly jam sessions. Chilling with your best friend and learning new songs to play together was your favorite pastime. Damien joins occasionally and sings along since you and Janis can’t sing for shit. At least you think so.

“Let’s just find a song then you can nap on my bed or something.” Janis proposes. Getting up, you pick up the acoustic guitar at the corner of the room and make your way to where she was seated. This week was your turn to pick a song.

“You’ll love this song. I discovered it recently and-”

“It’s Alex G again, isn't it? The chords he uses are so weird!”

“Yeah but-”

“Please tell me you have another song.”

You sigh, “I really thought you’d agree to that one. Let’s just play ‘Where is Your Mind’ or something.”

Janis is tuning her guitar when you get a text from your mother.

-We’re going shopping. I expect you to be at the mall in 20 minutes.-

You groan and lay your whole body onto the ground. “I know I’m already here but can I get a raincheck on the session? My mom is dragging me to go shopping” You sigh while getting up. “Yeah, no worries.” Janis replies, unbothered. God you really needed to sleep.

✮✮✮

“Seriously, mother?” Your mom was holding up a pink shirt with ‘baby gurlz’ plastered on the front. She had dragged you to the mall to upgrade your wardrobe. You needed new clothes because, according to your mother, you looked like an ‘emo beggar’. Your mother rolls her eyes “You dress like a hobo that lives at Hot Topic, baby. No offense.” It’s been 3 hours since you came in and you hadn’t found anything you liked. You take the shirt out of her hands and place it back on the rack.

“Can we just go home? I have an English test tomorrow and I haven’t started studying.” The lie comes out easily. In reality, you just wanted to nap. It’s been 3 days and you’ve gotten a total of 2 hours of sleep. A sigh comes out of your mothers mouth, “You know what, go sit in the car, you’re wearing whatever I buy you. Your outfit is going to be on your desk tomorrow morning.” She could buy you a dinosaur onesie and you wouldn’t care, you just wanted to nap.

✮✮✮

Unsurprisingly, the nap plan didn’t work out. You passed out eventually though, an hour before school, but at least it was something. You were now at your locker, clad in a white crop-top and baby blue skirt that was way too short. You hadn’t actually realized what your mother had picked out until a wide-eyed Damien grabbed your shoulder and dragged you to the bathroom. “Girl, what are you wearing? Also, did you lose weight?” You look at Damien confused, until you turn to the mirror. “Oh what the f-”

“Damien? What poor girl did you drag- the fuck?” Janis looks at you in shock, Cady standing behind her, while you stare back equally mortified. “You look like a pastel emo, dude.” Janis says while walking up to you and spinning you around. You stomp your foot. “Stop! I already feel bad enough.” You whine while pushing Janis off you and turning back to the mirror. Damien walks up behind you and stops your hands that were pulling at your shirt. “Girl you got bod, and those clothes lowkey look good on you.” Your eye roll is interrupted by the bell ringing. Shit.

Your thoughts start going crazy as you’re walking to English class. God they can see my legs! They probably know you don’t usually wear skirts. They’re probably all like: ‘look at her. You know she usually doesn’t wear skirts?’

Before you know it, you're sitting at your desk in English class, looking at your notebook. When did you get here? Huh, time flies when you’re having fun. You’re giggling at your own joke when you hear someone clearing their throat next to you. Regina?

“Did you hear anything I just said? Are you even actually physically present? It’s like I’m talking to a wall.” Regina raises an eyebrow waiting for a response. “Oh uh, hi.” You mumble out pathetically. She lets out a mocking ‘hi’ before continuing, “Anyways, I’ll pick you up after school for our project.” Project? What? You look up at the board and finally notice the list of instructions written down for a book report you had to do, with details of the partners the teacher had assigned. How much of the class had passed? Your question is answered when the bell signaling the end of the period rings.

You stand up too fast and start swaying before Regina gets up and holds you by your waist to steady you. “Woah there, slow down babe,” She pauses and looks you up and down. She bends down slightly to stare directly into your eyes and taps your cheek, “Cute outfit. See you after school.”

She packs her things and walks past you into the hallway.

You really need to sleep.

✮✮✮

It's like the bottom of your skirt was a mountain climber the way it kept hiking up with every step you took. At least it's almost the end of the day. One more period and you'd be on your way home. You were dragging your feet across the hall when you felt a slap on your ass. You turn around to see one of the jocks ,that you couldn't for the life of you remember the name of, smirking down at you.

Curse him out! Why are you just standing there? Your mouth flops open and closed like a fish, trying to come up with a devastating insult.

"F-Faggot."

...What the fuck? Your eyes widened. Before you could properly process what you said, you were pushed up against a locker with the jock impossibly close to you. "Say that again, slut." He grits his teeth, pushing you further into the locker. You're suddenly released and a very angry Regina was holding him by his shirt collar. "Apologize to her." You'd hate to be on the receiving end of the glare she's giving him. He scoffs, "You've gotten soft, Regina. Anyways, I was just giving her a compliment!" Regina's eyes somehow harden even more. "If the next words that come out of your mouth aren't an apology, Shane. I swear to god." His confidence falters and he eventually mumbles out an apology. "Walk away, and take your micro-penis with you."

Regina hears a giggle from below her and her eyes soften as she sees you on the floor. She helps you up and adjusts your clothes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, it's whatever."

She stares at you for a second.

"Take out your phone."

"What? Why-"

She pulls your phone out of your hand.

"I'm putting in my number, idiot."

What?

"For the project? I'm picking you up after school, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Pfft. Totally."

Giving your phone back and rolling her eyes, she turns away and leaves. From the corner of your eye you catch Janis and Damien stomping over. "Dude, why were you talking to Regina? Also our plan is working, Caddy's growing on them." You look at Janis, confused before she continues, "You need to sleep dude. Whatever we have health together let's find Caddy and get to class." Damien puts his arm around you and you all start walking. "What were you talking about with Regina, by the way?" He questions while adjusting his arm around you, "We got paired up for a project. A book report or something." You avoid bringing up the fact that you got harassed.

You love Janis and Damien, truly, but they tend to be a little overprotective. "Hah! What a nightmare!" Janis laughs. You look down at the floor, your face turning slightly red, mumbling, "She isn't that bad." The conversation dies out as you approach the classroom, Cady greeting you at the door. "Hey! So, Aaron invited me to this Halloween party..." Cady's voice fades as you sit down and put your head down onto your desk.

✮✮✮

"Nice room, Blondie." You say, going further into Regina's room. She had been waiting for you outside the school in her convertible, making it impossible for you to get out of spending time with her. Despite her recent tolerability, you couldn't forget how she used to treat you.

Regina smiles, "Thanks, Y/N. It was my mom's but I made her trade it."

"Woah. 'Y/N'? Are you going soft on me, Blondie?"

"Shut up."

You walk around her room and spot a couple of vinyls. Green day? My Chemical Romance? The Yeah Yeah Yeahs? The Strokes! What!

"Blondie, you have taste?"

Regina flips around and stomps towards you, taking the 'Stereophonics' vinyl out of your hands. "Stop going through my shit, Gerard." Back to square one.

She watches you adjust your skirt and pull at your shirt uncomfortably. Walking into her closet, she finds a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt she hadn't worn in years. You were awkwardly standing in the middle of her room before you felt a bunch of clothes hit your face.

The shock passes and you smile at her gratefully while she rolls her eyes and takes a seat at her desk. Should you go to her bathroom? Whatever, she's already seen you shirtless. Her face turns red while she pretends not to notice you changing in front of her. You finish up and take out your laptop, taking a seat on the floor. She swivels her chair to face you, "So, what book were you thinking?" You look up at her, slightly shocked. You didn't think she'd give you a choice.

"Oh. Uh. The Bell Jar?"

"Too bleak."

"It ends nicely though!"

"No! Pick something else."

"Okay, uh, My Year of Rest and Relaxation?" You propose with an eyebrow raised.

She glares at you.

"Are all the books you read just about mentally ill women?"

You sigh, "Pretty much. Oh! What about Matilda!"

She opens her mouth to argue, then pauses for a moment.

"Actually that doesn't sound too bad. Matilda it is."

✮✮✮

An hour passed before Regina looked up from her report and found you curled up on her floor, your laptop discarded to the side. After putting away your laptop, she approaches you and stares down at you. Hands on her hips, she looks around before letting out a breath and picking you up. "Gina?" You mumble out.

She shushes you and places you on her bed. "No. No, it's fine. I have to finish the report." Attempting to sit up, you whine when she pushes you back onto her bed. "We have a week till it's due. Rest." She leaves no room to argue as she tucks you in. "No! Oh wow. Your bed is so comfortable." Your eyes start drifting close and the last thing you see is Regina placing a kiss on your head.

✮✮✮

"I mean I've been dressing up as a mouse since freshman year, why would I change now?" Karen's voice takes you out of your blissful slumber. How long have you been asleep? "You're barely even a mouse, Karen." You could hear Gretchen reply. The sun had started setting, from what you could tell. You sit up, rubbing your eyes and looking around the room. Gretchen and Karen were sitting on the floor while Cady was laying above the sheets next to you. "Hey sleepyhead!" Cady pinches your cheek and tackles you when you try to push her away. She straddles your waist and starts tickling you. "Dude!...Stop!" You say in between giggles.

"What's going on here?" Regina must've been in the bathroom, "Finally up? I was getting ready to call the funeral house, Gerard." She was wearing sweatpants and a tank top. You accidentally glance down at her chest and turn away quickly, blushing, unaware of Regina's knowing smirk. She must've changed when you wear asleep.

Cady finally stops her assault on you. "Ha. Ha" You roll your eyes, moving to get up when Cady grabs your arm and pulls you back down, "Did you wrestle a bear or something?" Looking down to see what she was talking about, you notice a huge hand shaped bruise on your shoulder. You can feel everybody's eyes on you. "Oh, I fell during PE. It's nothing" You shrug her hand away and rub your shoulder, walking towards the walk-in closet, ignoring Regina's eyes burning a hole in your back. Bending down to pick up your clothes, a bright pink book catches your attention.

"Hey. Why didn't you tell Cady about Shane- No!" Regina's eyes widen as rushes towards you and pulls the book out of your hand. It's too late, your page had been the first one you found when you opened the book. Standing up, your voice wavers, "Thank you for being so accommodating, I'll get out of your hair now." You bump your shoulder into her getting out of the closet, hurting yourself more than her.

The silence that followed after you slammed the door on your way out was loud. Regina plops down next to Karen and Gretchen, Cady following after her. Running her hands through her hair, Regina sighs and stares at her bedroom door.

"Fuck."

✮✮✮

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