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fr3sh-tragedies · 2 months

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Hiii!! Im not sure if you take requests but if you do could you write something for regina goerge (2024) x fen reader please? Thank you

[Mean Girls: 2024] Regina George x Female Reader

[Requested]

Summary: Upon growing closer and ultimately becoming official with Regina, you finally understand the saying that home can be a person.

Word Count: 1.76k Content Warnings: A very brief mention of sex Category: Heavy Fluff || One-shot + Preference

[A/N]: I've been wanting to write for her ever since I saw the movie, so thank you for requesting this! I hope you'll like what I was able to come up with. The last part of it was more of a drabble, but overall this was fun to write.

Enjoy!

“Rough day?” Regina had asked you once you seated yourself in the passenger side of her jeep. You blinked, surprised she had already taken notice of your slumped and fatigued demeanor, but you responded regardless. “Yeah, it just felt like today went on forever. I didn’t think eighth period was ever going to end,” you murmured, smirking to yourself, amused. Regina, when you glanced up at her, was frowning at your words. She ignored Gretchen’s request to hurry up so they can get away from the school and instead took hold of your hand, giving it a small squeeze.

Before shifting into reverse and backing out, she lifted your hand up to her lips and pressed a small kiss against the backs of your knuckles. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make sure you can relax. It’s the weekend now, so you don’t need to worry about anything.” You hummed and nodded, face slightly flustered from her actions. She shot a grin your way before her attention focused in on the road ahead of her.

Like usual, the Plastics were going to meet up at Regina’s house after classes, just as they always had. Karen and Gretchen planned on informing their Queen Bee Regina about the latest gossip they had heard, though you already knew they had made half of it up just to stir the pot around school. You generally paid no mind to them when they started talking about drama. You couldn’t understand why Regina was so interested in it all – sure, it helped her gain the upper hand here and there, but it hurt so many people in the process.

You grimaced to yourself when you looked out the window, the soreness from the day already creeping up on you and causing you grief. With your focus pointed outside at the passing terrain, you hadn’t taken notice of how Regina peeked over at you, clearly having heard your small hiss of pain when you turned your head. As Cady and the other two Plastics blabbered on about god-knows-what in the backseat, Regina kept her worry centered on you. After you flinched again from hardly moving your limbs, she huffed, making up her mind.

“I’m gonna drop you guys off,” she announced to the girls in the back, who all stared at her for a moment, purely dumbfounded. “What?” Gretchen started, “But we always go to your house after school. You promised we could come today.” “Well, I changed my mind. I’m dropping you off at your houses instead.” Once again, Gretchen tried to argue against this sudden decision, though a sharp glare from Regina quickly forced her to press her lips shut again. She groaned and slouched down into her seat, causing Regina to roll her eyes.

Curiously, you eyed her from your seat. She felt your attention on her and glanced over at you from the corner of her own eye, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Gently, she squeezed your hand. A silent promise that it would be alright soon.

Almost immediately after making your way into Regina’s bedroom, you spotted one of her shirts draped over the back of the chair stationed at her desk. With a small smile, you plucked it from its original spot and hoisted it over your head, pulling it down over your body and sighing when the scent of her perfume met your senses. Always a comforting smell for you, which she was very much aware of. Each time you came by, she made sure to spray on a little extra.

Your feet led you over to her bed after you kicked your shoes off. Regina was still downstairs, briefly mentioning to her mom that you were going to be staying for the entire weekend. Her mom put up no argument, like usual, and you soon weren’t alone in the room anymore. You had situated yourself on your side of the bed, bundling up against her pillows while you mindlessly scrolled through your phone, and she could feel strings tugging at her heart at the sight, a prideful grin painting her lips.

She joined you on the bed after changing into more comfortable clothes: sweatpants, a loose t-shirt, and the fuzzy socks you had gotten her for her birthday a few months prior. She climbed onto the mattress, sighing at the relief the plushness provided her. Wordlessly, she shuffled until her hip met yours. Her arm slung itself over your shoulder and pulled you to her until your head was resting against her own, then her head dropped to rest on top of yours. Soothingly, her hand ran itself up and down your arm, and her soft lips pressed a chaste kiss to your temple.

Moments like these were what you cherished most. There was no drama to listen to, no prying eyes from other students, no snarky remarks directed your way, no stressful work to deal with. Here, in Regina’s arms, you were able to unwind and feel safe. As she tugged her phone off of her nightstand to click through TikTok, her other hand slid up to your scalp, nails dancing slowly through your hair in such a heavenly way that you couldn’t help but feel your eyes instantly flutter shut at the sensation. When you hummed in satisfaction, she grinned, then pressed another kiss to your skin.

“Ew, why are you back on my feed?” She suddenly questioned beside you. Puzzled, your eyes pried themselves open to glance at her phone, unsure if she was talking to you or not. Thankfully, she was talking about a random girl from school. You couldn’t help but snicker and watch as she immediately tapped the “Not Interested” option and continued her journey through her page. Upon hearing your small laugh, she let out her own and glanced at you.

“What?” Was her question, soft and playful, accompanied by an amused smile as she studied over your features. “Nothing. I just wasn’t expecting you to talk. I thought you were about to fall asleep. I know I am,” you explained, mirroring her smirk.

She shrugged and shook her head, briefly turning back to her phone. “I might. This week kind of kicked my ass.” You could only groan at that for a moment. “Yeah, same.”

A heavy sigh unwillingly slipped past your lips, and you didn’t have to look at her to know she was staring back, fueled with concern. Weakly, you rubbed at your eyes before letting them fall shut again. She said nothing, but you heard her phone click off and get placed back down on her nightstand. Her eyes were trained on you, you knew, but you were too exhausted to meet her gaze.

Instead, you focused in on the comfort she was effortlessly provided you with: fingers toying delicately with your locks, her own weight supporting yours, arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders, occasional pecks against the head. You felt your eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment. A quick yawn passed from you before you nestled further against Regina.

“Scoot closer.” Interrupted from your thoughts and once again being pulled away from sleep, you groaned and opened your eyes, looking up at her with confusion. “What?” “Scoot closer.” You did as told without another word. With a bit of effort thanks to your heavy limbs, you managed to slide over onto your side, which she did in return before pulling your head against her chest. Now feeling fully enveloped in her arms, your body went slack, much to your long-awaited relief. As her hand returned to play with your hair, she shuffled for a bit, trying to get comfortable.

Finally, she settled with a sigh of her own.

“I love you. You know that, right?” She murmured against your head, speech slightly slurred from her own exhaustion. You nodded. “I love you too.” Her nails drug effortlessly against the nape of your neck as she let out a yawn. “If you ever just want us to be alone after school, or… actually, whenever, all you have to do is tell me. I’m gonna get annoyed with Karen and Gretchen anyway, and Cady’s starting to get on my nerves too, so it would be nice to spend more time alone with you.”

A grin broke out across your lips. “Okay.” Silently, you wondered to yourself if she had ever been this soft to anyone before. When you had first gotten together with her, you worried she was going to treat you like she had done to everyone else. However, much to your relief, instead of being met with cold glances and meaningless sex, you found yourself constantly being showered in genuine compliments, longing gazes, soft touches, and plenty of promises for the future.

As she held you in her arms, you couldn’t help but tear up a little, truly feeling safe and secure with every bit of her warmth wrapped around you. Digging your nails into her shirt and burying your face into the soft fabric, you sniffled, which immediately caused her to tense and lean back to look you in the eye. “Woah, baby, what’s wrong?” You laughed and shook your head, the sight of your smile easing her tensed form. “Nothing at all. They’re good tears, I promise.”

Briefly, she eyed you, wanting to ensure you were being truthful. When you softened your gaze and smiled wider, she sighed, nodding and pulling you back against her chest.

Sleepily, Regina huffed out a small chuckle and closed her eyes. “Why’re you wearing my shirt by the way?” She questioned softly. You blushed, one of your hands instinctively slipping down to toy with the collar of said shirt and tug it up to your face. “It just… brings me comfort. That’s all.” You paused. “Is it a bad thing that I’m wearing it?” A quick shake of her head settled your nerves, though she further soothed you anyway. “Of course not. It looks good on you, baby. You should wear my stuff more often.”

You giggled. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you murmured in reply. It only took a few moments before you felt her melt into you. With your head rested against her chest, you were able to feel her breathing even out, slow down, then deepen, signaling she had finally fallen asleep. You yawned, knowing you were going to follow suit shortly after.

Your fingers dug in a little deeper to her shirt as you pulled yourself as close as possible to her. As your eyes fluttered shut, you hummed. “I love you.”

#fluff #x reader #female reader #mean girls #regina george #gretchen wieners #karen smith #mean girls 2024 #regina george x reader #regina george x fem!reader #regina george x female reader #renee rapp

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thathypnoskid · 5 months

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*calling you*

Hello Bee! are you ready to go to the movies?

- @rachel-elizabeth-dareeeee

oh! hey rachel, yeah, i am

should i pick you up or should we meet at the border?

#bee blabbers

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hearmyvoiceoftreason · 2 years

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i love how my hyperfixations tend to coordinate on this hellsite

(original posts found here and here)

#bnha #mha #twice #kpop #bakugou katsuki #shouto todoroki #kim dahyun #bee blabbers #honestly i love how they're just looking at each other like HA?

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carolmunson · 2 months

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blood machine.

emperor geta x senator's daughter!reader songspiration: in keeping secrets of the silent earth 3 | coheed & cambria

did not once plan to write for this guy but here we are. also like, is it historically accurate? no. like, not even a little. (hell is mentioned and technically hell wasn't 'a place' until 400 BC but like WHATEVER.) am i making a semi effort? sorta kinda. have i been a little stoned every time i've worked on this? well, yes.

summary: when what was supposed to be a diplomatic dinner before a much bigger and lively feast becomes a marriage offer, all of the wine you drank turns to ash in your mouth. haters to haters, bay-bee. tw: 18+, drinking but like -- idk it's ancient rome, tension, fighting, some mild body shaming (??), a literal threat of domestic violence but again it's ancient rome so like i don't think they cared, two stupid little bitches who hate each other. mentions of war and ultimate distaste for the poor. reader kind of has lady macbeth vibes. my little evil queen.

Wine is poured, golden chalices exalted. You are a vision and he is a toad looking creature of a man that only his mother could love. Not quite his brother, never quite measuring up the same way -- always trying to puff his chest. It was easy to tease him, ego easy to bruise -- little brother. You’d spent time in your childhood tagging along with your brother and the other kids to taunt him, pathetic and whimpering. 'Tale teller!' you'd jeer, every time he'd run off to his mother to blubber over how mean you all were. And you were mean.

But people grow, as they do. And so did you -- still mean, but in a different way. Listening to meetings, reading maps, keeping tabs on new republics, on potential uprising. The poor -- the fucking poor. Finding new ways to keep them occupied so that they'd stop trying to find ways to be powerful. Powerful like you. Powerful like the man at the head of the table with a plum to his lips. And as it has been said, a man in possession of a good fortune and power, must be in need of a wife. It became clear when you arrived that this was not a business dinner before a grand feast, your parents simply forgot to mention what this was really about. Your best linens, your hair coiffed, your best jewelry, you should have known it had been a ruse the moment you got there. His home on Palatine just sparkling the way the gold on your fingers did, candles in the halls and stairways glittering when they hit the rubies and pearls on your chest and ears. When your father veers the conversation from politics and business to marriage you both choke, stern eyes glued to your mother's painted face. A business dinner where you are currency -- more than worthy. Just a few months shy of being eligible when Caracalla was, regrettably, forced to marry Flavia at the last moment. It would've been nice to have the gang together again in some capacity. Could've bullied the toad to assasinating himself if you were lucky enough. Total power. Complete upheaval. The more you thought about it, the more of it your craved. The pit in your stomach grew, if it wasn't with his brother -- even though you bore no attraction -- there was not a point at all. Geta didn't think nearly as critically, didn't hit hard enough, didn't strategize correctly. You'd never even seen him pick up a sword -- but then again, that made sense. You very rarely spent time in his palace, much prefering the festivities of Caracalla's close by.

You listen while your mother goes on and on about his grace, tongue dipped in honey while she blabbers. She mentions how handsome he is, his valiance in leadership, how honorable he's become as he's taken the place of his late father -- you can't help yourself but laugh. The giggle echos and bounces through the high ceilings, floating against the archways, getting caught in the drapery by the open hall. His eyes flick to you over his goblet, catching in the candle light, an aggravated sneer plaguing his face. He looks like a pig when he does that, you think to yourself.

You know that business, for the most part, is a man's game. But it does not deter you from doing your best to try and wager yourself out of this. Ideas drip into your mind while the drone of the conversation turns to fuzz in the background. How can you sell that this is a bad idea? It will bring less publicity, less of a threat, less resposibility if married to someone with equal nobility. Certainly not an emperor. Especially not one like this. So petulant, so competitive, so eager for a war he does not know how to plan, so temperamental, so weak, so conniving, so consumed with the colosseum that he doesn't think of what should be done around him. It's his voice that brings you back to attention.

"And why is it she hasn't been taken for a wife then, at this age?" he asks, brow quirking in your direction. You let out of huff of offense while he sips his wine, metal clinking as he places it back down. A smirk flits across his features at the remark, "Is something wrong with her?"

Your father, sweating with embarrassment, looks over at you and back at the emperor, "Well she, she's of course beautiful." Geta winces, cocking his head to the side with a shrug. Your father sighs, desperate to try to find a better angle, "She um, she -- she has great wits, Ceasar, unmatched. She knows her duties as a wife, but -- a great thinker. She could -- she could be helpful!" "Wits," he mumbles sourly under his breath before leaning back leisurely in his chair, "Great thinker? Very surprising." "August--" your father starts. "Co--" you correct over a sip of wine, "Co-Augustus."

Geta tosses you another sour look, tongue running over his teeth before clicking it behind his lips. You shrug while swallowing. "Semantics, Publius," you wave a hand at him. A hush falls over the room as his gaze snaps up at you, blanching at the disrespect of being called by his first name. Your mother hides her face in her napkin with a groan. Your father leans his temple against his fingers, eyes closed in frustration. "Mind how you address me," Geta corrects with a stern pull to his lips, eyes glittering with rage. Your eyes catch over the mountains of food before you, holding your glass out as one of his servants pours you another glass of wine. "Is that not what your mother calls you?" your voice feathery, but certain. A vein begins to raise and pulse in his neck while his shoulders round forward.

"Please apologize, dear," your mother mutters, putting the napkin back on the table, "Tell -- tell the emperor what it would mean, to be -- to be wed to someone of such calibur."

Your eyes stay on his, challenging him while your mother begs you to say something to make amends. Another sip of wine passes your lips, "No, shan't."

Your mother scolds you, your full name escaping her with embarrassment tainting her tongue. Sweat beads at your father's forehead while he changes the subject, doing aything to try to keep his good favor with both sides of the imperatorship.

You grin into your goblet at the sight of Geta's face -- reddened with anger and frustration at the brazen disrespect. But it was fine to continue to be an enemy if it meant you would leave these regal walls and never have to step foot in them again. And if you did, it would be as another senator's wife, visiting his brother in another house where you'll laugh and drink wine and cheer when he's killed.

Even his posture is revolting, hunched over while he listens to your father speak. Now going on and on about paper work that doesn't interest you if it doesn't have a say on who is next on the list to conquer. Your eyes glaze over in boredom while pomergranate, honey pudding, and dates are placed on the table. Rose wine replaces the red to sweeten the tongue -- you're sure your parents wished it were true.

It's not very long after dessert is served that your parents start again.

"As you know, she does come from a family of very fertile women," your father encourages. You quickly swallow the bite of date you'd taken to interrupt, nearly choking, "Excuse me, I'm not sure this is appropriate dinner conversation."

Geta looks at you while you speak, scanning you and then lingering on the dessert in your hand, "Her hips are quite sizeable -- big enough to bear multiple childen, that's certain. Is that her only sell?"

Anger bubbles under your chest, but warning looks from both of your parents keeps your sharp tongue between your lips. The grip on your goblet tightens, jaw clenching while your pass another sip through gritted teeth. You let a seething breath out through your nose. "As I tried to explain before," your father continues, "She is very on the pulse in terms of the political climate and, and, and great with strategy." "I'm not looking for a wife who tries to strategize for me--" he responds coolly. "From how the empire has not expanded since your father's death I would guess that perhaps you should be," you snap back smartly. His posture straightens, chains and medallions across his chest glinting in the candle light. The room quiets itself again, only the sound of untensils and cups being put down or collected filling the dead air. The soft scrape of metal, the rustle of linens while servants and guards alike avert their gaze downward.

"Leave us," he states, voice pungent with authority. You stretch your neck on both sides while the servants depart, already bored with the back and forth. Already moved on from the eventual scolding and potential exile that won't get put into motion because you are simply too friendly with the rest of the upcoming generals and politicians. One rogue idiot who barely has the power his brother has, that his father never trained into him, could not dole a punishment that is worth your genuine fear.

You sigh, hearing the staff make their way down the long stone corridors into the grand halls to prepare for a more formal party with other higher status families. More likely a collection of offerings for him to choose from, other parents trying to arrange a marriage with the empire's most powerful and eligible bachelor. It would be one of the few times the brothers would have to engage with each other, which you're sure put Geta more on edge than normal.

"Senator, please take your wife to the grand hall to be seated," he commands, his voice lower, delving darker. The vein in his neck continues to pulse, forearms straining against the golden cuffs over his wrists, "The guards will accompany you."

You watch as your parents rise, bowing their heads before following the guards out of the room and through the blood red drapery hung from gilded valances. Geta's eyes stay hardened on you, and yours him, while you rise as well, taking a few steps around the large wooden table toward the exit. "Not you," he says, not turning to face you, "You will stay." "It is not appropriate for me to be unaccopanied in the pres--" "Do not speak," he huffs, hand coming up to silence you, "Your voice grates on me." "Then you can imagine what your own voice does, Augustus," you say without thinking, letting the insults flow out of you like the fountain water in the courtyards. He pushes away from the table, steadily walking towards you with enough vigor that the bottom of his cape starts to billow behind him. On his way, he pulls a sword from a guard's holster, dragging it so the tip grinds against the stone, making your jaw clench at the shrill sound.

"What happens to those who speak against me?" he asks, steps clicking against the floor from the studs on the bottom of his sandals. He begins to stalk around you, circling while he waits for an answer. "Execution," you respond, keeping your eyes on the drapery just twenty feet ahead of you. "What else?" he asks, you can feel his breath behind you, the whining grind of the sword against the stone making your shoulders tense. "Exile," you answer, a laugh bubbling out of you, "But I can't imagine your brother agreeing to either of those. You'd really banish me, Publius? Because I was a little mean to you?" When he appears in front of you again, your lips stretch into a sickeningly sweet smile, sarcasm staining your tone, "But we're such old friends."

He cocks his head to the side, taking a step closer with the sword between you, "Oh, I wouldn't do that to you."

He leans forward, enough that you can smell the rose wine on his breath. His voice quiet and menacing, "Though -- it could be that the senator said something to offend me tonight at dinner. It could be that perhaps he -- spoke poorly of my dear brother or my late father. Something just dastardly enough to sour my brother's respect for him." "And you expect Caracalla to believe that?" "In what way does it benefit me to lie about it?" he challenges, "And even more so -- with your father exiled, where does that leave you?"

You swallow thickly, not giving him the satisfaction of replying while your look into his now wild brown eyes. Flashing with mania and endless possibility.

"A peasant," he spits.

"If it keeps me out of these halls I should be lucky, no?" you fire back, looking at him from under furrow brows. He continues to circle you, dragging the sword again. The click, click, click of his shoes keeping time in your head. "I'm sure my brother would be happy to keep you as a pet in the meantime," he laughs to himself, "Or we could put you in the colosseum, you think you'd fare well?" "Better than you could, that's certain," you cross your arms over your chest, "Could never stand up and fight like a man, even as a kid. Your father would be embarrassed."

The grinding gets louder as he presses harder down, causing small sparks to fly from the edge of the sword.

"If you were to be chosen, would ever even attempt to learn respect?" he asks sharply, "Or would it have to be beaten into you?" You snort, "At least you're the funnier brother, you have that going for you." You can see him out of your periphery, the way he pulls his cheeks in, the roll of his shoulders -- he's losing patience. "What, would you prefer I called you Geta? Augustus? Ceasar?" your eyes roll. A soft cackle comes from his through, canines showing in a gleeful smile, "No, no -- from you? I'd much prefer something more respectful." Click, click, click. The grind of the sword. The rose on his breath. "Dominus," he nods with the threat, "Dominus et Deus."

"You disgust me," you respond quickly. "As a husband and as emperor is that not my title, already?" he shrugs, looking at you like it's obvious.

"You are nobodies Lord and God, you are a petulant -- sniveling -- repulsive little brother who is only where he is by being lucky to be born," you glower.

"You still see me as a child, femina," he tuts, "I promise you, what ever Caracalla has told you is a tapestry of made up stories. You could hang it on the tallest arch and it would hit the floor ten times over."

"I do see just a whining child before me," you hiss, "I'm sure you'll run to your mother after this, too."

His chuckle turns to a low, dark laugh from deep in his chest. It crawls up your spine and rings in your ears, mixing with the grating 'shhhhhhinnnngggg' of the sword on the ground.

"If it were fate that there was union between us," he asks from behind you, "What would you say to that?"

You look straight ahead, hearing the click of his shoes. The heat of the torches on the walls billowing onto your face while you keep your eyes on the drapery, still closed -- still keeping you here.

"It would be a fate worse than the hottest hell," you confess, your voice not wavering.

The whine of the sword stops, sheathed into his belt. The click of his shoes halts.

Quiet.

Rose wine on his breath, you feel it on your skin now, his chest against your back while he closes the space between you. A hand reaches up to push the hair from your neck, the other gripping the fat of your hip to pull you ruthlessly against him in a thud. Your eyes shut, bile crawling up your throat in disgust. His nose coasts against the shell of your ear, making you tilt your head away while goosebumps rise on your arms. Through a knowing grin he whispers, the words burrowing deep in your chest in loathing and a glimmer of fear: "I pray every moment of it burns you."

#emperor geta #geta x reader #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #geta x you #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 fanfiction

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thesharkwhalewhoohooooo · 2 months

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Bridget x fem! Oc

"Hecate! Get back here." Uliana called out to the witch, who send a last sneer to Bridget and Ella, and then quickly followed after Uliana.

"Stupid Bridget." She grumbled as she joined her friends, who were all exchanging glances, all but Uliana, of course.

"Mh, valentine's day is coming up, you two gonna do anything?" Hades asked Morgie and Hook, who looked at each other and shrugged.

"Probably, you?"

"-stop this nonsensical blabbering! She just publicly humiliated me!" Uliana snapped, Hecate nodding along, towering over most of the group.

"So...? What do you want to do about it?" Maleficent gestured for her to come up with something, looking incredibly bored.

"My god, let's go babe." The two left the rest, probably to go make out and scare first years.

"I have homework..." They frowned at her, "I still want a fucking future!" Hecate threw her hands up as she walked away, Morgie and hook whistling after her to tease her.

"Go buff boss lady!"

"Morgs, she's not the boss lady."

"Go buff lady!"

"Don't you dare show your face around here again." Hecate almost growled out, staring down at a boy who was trembling so bad she thought he might faint.

"God fucking damn it." She gritted her teeth as she picked up the love letter from the boy, quickly tearing it to shreds before anyone could see the name on it.

"Oh... hi Hecate!" Bridget had trued going to her locker, but Hecate was standing in front of it, little snippets of pink laper in her hands.

"Mh?" She arched an eyebrow, looking down at Bridget with narrowed eyes.

"What." Bridget smiled at her, producing one of the macaroons she had made out of nowhere.

"I made macaroons this morning! Would you like one?" She bit the inside of her cheek as she watched Bridget bite at her bottom lip.

"No." She watched as her face fell, this was good.

"Oh... um- okay, bye then?" Bridget still smiled at her, and Hecate stalked off, shoving the boy who tried to put the letter in a locker down harshly, glaring around, this was a warning.

"Wassup fuckers." Hecate grinned madly as she appeared amidst her friendgroup, half of the homosexuals were making out.

"Hi Hecate, one question, let's go ruin Valentines." Hecate shrugged at the not-question, following Uliana as she slammed lockers closed in front of faces.

"Hello." Hecate appeared behind a boy, who was lurking near someone's locker with a red note.

"Let's see shall we? Dear Br-." It burned in her hand, ashes falling down as she slammed her hand into the locker he was about to wiggle it into.

"Huh, I thought I made it clear that nobody-!"

"Oh my gosh! Hecate! Why did you do that?!" Bridget rushed in, and Hecate's hand quickly disconnected from the locker, looking at the princess with a frown.

"Your fist! And my locker..." Her eyes widened, prying open the locker and flattening out the dent from the inside before slamming it closed again.

"What locker." She harshly spat out, Uliana had long left her alone to her shenanigans.

"Your fist! Does it hurt-?"

"No! Stop asking if anything hurts' why do you fare so much! Ugh!" She quickly stormed away, dragging the boy with and pressing his face against the lockers as she walked.

Bridget stood in silence for a second, then slowly opened her locker, still looking down the corridor where Hecate left in hopes she'd turn back around.

"Nothing. Again." She sighed, looking through her books for the book she had to put in.

"Oh! I guess I didn't see it!" She giggled, carefully licking up the pink paper, leaning with her shoulder against another locker as she read it.

Darkening your doorstep, I stand before you.

Darkening your doorstep, I kneel for you.

Darkening your doorstep, I hereby request.

Darkening your doorstep, your forgiveness is not earned, yet.

She sighed, rolling her eyes fondly, it was the same sort of poem she'd been getting for the oast year.

"How sweet, secret admirer hits again?" Ella scared her, reading over her shoulder.

"Oh my-! Don't scare me like that Ella! But yes, he's been doing this for a year now, I wonder when that forgiveness he speaks of will come soon." Ella hummed.

"Yeah, no boy writes like that, that girl is gay and a hopeless romantic." She theorised, Bridget slapping her arm.

"Don't be like that!"

"I just don't know what's going on, I just... I hate her and her sweets and everything about her! But I can't have anyone else have her, which is stupid and dumb, I don't even like her."

"No, you love herrrrr!" Morgie smirked at her, using his hyper flexibility to twist his spine and circle his entire body around Hecate's torso.

"Also this is getting creepy, Hook!" The captain poked his head up from where he was laying, rolling his eyes.

"Come here darling!" Morgie unwrapped himself from Hecate, who was rambling about her problems to Maleficent, the only one who really couldn't give a lesser fuck.

"Just fuck her, see if you like it, if you don't, you hate her, if you do... well then you might have some issues to sort out with Uliana." She shrugged, playing around with her hair as she used Hades as a chair.

"Exactly what she said." The god, who was laying down with her on his back, agreed.

"M'kay... i'm not doing that, Uli?" The sea witch groaned, rolling over from where she was trying to sleep.

"Shut up, just go ask her out or something, or write her another one of your poems." Hecate stuttered as she tried to find an answer, looking around to see if they all knew.

"Allow me to step closer as I scream, cry, and beg, scream for the lives i've lost trying to find you, Cry for the time spend without you, and Beg to spend just a mere second more with you'- one of my favourites, honestly, I had to write it down to remember, also, i'm stealing it in like a year." Morgie held up a paper, laying across Hook with a smile.

"It is pretty spectacular." The pirate shrugged, winking at Hecate. "Go over there and just fuck her, prove how amazing you are in bed and you shall see! The doors open before thee!" He mocked the posh royalty, changing his accent.

"Why did I even ask if all you guys think about is sex."

"I don't"

"Uliana, I say this with all respect, but you don't even feel attraction towards anyone."

Hecate fidgeted with her rings as she waited for the door to be opened, standing in front of the girl's doors was so much more nerve wrecking than beating people up for asking her out.

"Oh- Hi Hecate, anything you need?" Bridget had opened the door, and Hecate contemplated if she should just take Hook's advice.

"Yeah-!" She coughed as her voice cracked, straightening up and leaning against the doorpost to aat least try seem cooler and more collected.

"I just wanted to ask you out on a date tomorrow, y'know, with it being valentines and all." WHY DIDN'T I SPEAK LIKE I WRITE??? SHE'D AT LEAST KNOW THAT'S ME!!!!!

"Like... romantically?" I should dash now that I still can.

"Yeah, romantically, seems totes cool right?" NOBODY SAYS THAT AND IT'S NOT COOL!!!

"Yes! Of course i'll go on a date with you!"

I'm sorry for darkening your doorstep, I just had to say, a single second spend with you is worth more than a thousand sun filled days.

#rise of red #ror #the depths contrapts #descendants #bridget of wonderland #descendants 4 #ruby rose turner #descendants the rise of red #bridget x fem reader #bridget x reader #bridget x oc

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