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eskumii · 8 months ago

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❝ TROPHY WIFE ❞ — yandere!uzui tengen/wives + you're his first wife

SYNOPSIS: suppose you're uzui tengen's very first wife, the one that slipped through the cracks of your unwanted arranged marriage with him. along with your disappearance went his heart, and now you must bear the consequences of a man who loves his wife far beyond her understanding—so much so that he would kill for her, die for her, and do anything to make her stay. — navi.

WORD COUNT: 5.7k

NOTES: mdni! (cw: non-con) this is an arranged/forced marriage au. it's meant to be one-sided. it took me quite literally forever to finish this lol ,,

PAIRING: yandere!uzui tengen x wife!reader

CHARACTERS: uzui tengen (19-23), reader (18-22), suma (19), makio (20), hinatsuru (21)

I. TO BE WED

imagine being uzui tengen's very first wife.

your hand in marriage was promised to him by your parents, who owned a tax-collecting business that was often the target of hostility from the impoverished people of your hometown. tengen routinely passed through your village on demon slayer business, so your parents could always rest assured knowing he would take care of the violent stragglers that sometimes loitered outside.

ironically being poor themselves, they had little to offer the hashira as payment for his noble duties; well, that "little" didn't exclude you of course, their only daughter who's failed to find a husband far past the age of when other girls were normally wed. you're still young, fertile, and moderately attractive, but your strong disinterest in potential suitors often drove any chances of a wealthy marriage away.

however, after being introduced to tengen, the man you'll be forced to marry out of obligation, you begin to regret being so stubborn after all.

admittedly, tengen found you to be pretty plain at first. you're poor so you can't exactly dress flashy, and you come from a no-name family with little legacy. your parents swore up and down on your domestic efficiency—hardworking, great cook, a tame disposition—and, well, at least you're kind of cute, too. tengen is intrigued by your potential the most.

your parents force you to do whatever you can to get close to him. the truth is, though, you don't really have to do anything with the way he seeks you out himself. he often shows up at your door asking for you, and your parents have no qualms about dragging you out of your room to make you go out with him.

he takes you to the nicer parts of town and pays for dinner or buys you flowers and little trinkets from the shop vendors that line the streets. it doesn't help that the elderly people running the stands egg you on, saying things like "what a lovely young couple" or "your children would be so beautiful!" tengen simply smiles with ease, accepting their praise as if it's second nature. you get rather embarrassed by his shameless indulgence.

there's small talk but you find it incredibly stifling. tengen does a majority of the dialoguing but most of the time your dates get interrupted by his kasugai crow, who squawks at him whenever a demon shows up nearby. he always looks annoyed and promises to make it up to you, leaning down to pat your head like you're his pet dog or something. you hate it and him too, probably.

"i'll be back before you know it, darling," his smile is charming but not to you. "you'll stay right here for me, won't you?"

regardless of your somewhat obvious hesitance to accept his advances, tengen gets attached to you like it was meant to be. the idea of having a pretty little housewife for him to come home to after his draining missions becomes increasingly attractive, and the more time he spends with you, the more he sees the appeal of your being. it must be a miracle that no man has taken you as his wife yet; surely you were saving yourself for a man like him.

unfortunately, though, you don't want to marry tengen.

an arranged marriage? it's simply not the kind of life you envision for yourself. you aren't willing to bet the rest of your days on a man whom you have a slim chance of falling in love with, all for the sake of financial security. but what else can you do? your parents already made it very clear they would disown you if you refuse, and tengen is pressuring you to your death with his sweet words and annoyingly thoughtful presents. you're stuck.

eventually, the incessant nagging from your parents and weeks of endless courting from tengen sway you so sooner. you fold like a cheap hand fan and succumb to your fate, to a future you knew from the very beginning that you would come to despise.

he's the only suitor you have at this point. it's not like you have a choice. and the one choice you do have just so happens to be him, a man who is the nearest thing to a perfect match as you're ever gonna get. you should be happy. thankful. he'll give you the world if you just give him a chance.

at least, that's what he told you.

II. THE SOUND HASHIRA

your parents are so happy to send you off.

they're completely honored that their letdown of an only daughter is finally getting married—to a well-known and wealthy shinobi at that. it's the only time they've shown any pride in you, yet it really only leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

after your brief introduction to the head of tengen's clan, everything moves so quickly. just a couple weeks later, you're already signing a marriage contract in which you and tengen become official newlyweds. and before you know it, you're packing what little belongings you have to your name and moving in with him, begrudgingly and regretfully so.

the day you arrive, he shows you around his overwhelmingly gigantic residence; the courtyard full of cherry blossoms and koi ponds, the huge kitchen, and the bedroom where he'll eventually fully claim you. there's lots of other rooms too, but they're either empty or reserved for his weapons and training gear. he tries to hide it but he's obviously so over the moon that you're his wife now. he doesn't even notice your misery through his elated delusion of love.

in hindsight, you didn't realize how difficult it can be to share a space with someone you hardly know. you find everything awkward but tengen doesn't, like always. to him, you're so obedient and polite— such a good girl. you take whatever he gives you; kisses, hugs, subtle gropes here and there, and all of his sweet compliments and gifts. you don't argue with him or raise your voice, you fret over his injuries and make his favorite foods. you're observant, collected, and mature.

he didn't have a type before he met you—you're all he can ask for in a woman, really.

tengen is unexpectedly romantic. he constantly boasts about his strength and fighting skills in order to impress you, and he never stops mouthing off about how he'll prioritize you over himself. he puts consistent effort in getting to know you: what you like, don't like, your favorite color, and any other inkling of your personality that he can manage to wrestle out of you. he seems to have gotten the impression that you're shy or something.

flowers are a constant and you're spoiled with fancy, expensive kimonos and jewelry. had you married tengen under literally any other circumstance, you'd find his advances on you endearing but, unfortunately, he just comes off as clingy and unbearable. any woman would die to be in your place yet you can't even find it in you to want to be in your own place.

what do you think of him, though? well, he's handsome, you'll give him that. you don't deny the appeal of his good looks and flashy, fitted clothing. he's strong, established, and knows what he wants. despite your obvious distaste towards his gifts and grandiose personality, it's not to say you're ungrateful that the man you're stuck with is exceedingly well-off and capable of protecting you. you can't say he's a bad guy.

however, he's a moron.

he fell for you fast. a couple months have already passed since coming to live in his residence. tengen requests to have picnics whenever you go with him to visit his siblings' graves on his off days. of course you have no reason to refuse; as much as you dislike him, you're not heartless. they're important days, so you swallow your pride and pack a bento spread you know he'll like.

tengen will confide in you about the memories of his late siblings, his parents, and his life before becoming a hashira. it's a depressing and heavy weight to shoulder, but you still play your role of the loving, supportive wife with your lingering touches and comforting words. you use these outings as opportunities to gain his trust by being vulnerable.

except, this time, the effect you seem to have on tengen is magnified to the point of no return.

he pulls you into his lap and you're suddenly flush against his rock hard chest, trapped in a suffocating hug. you don't know what prompted his sudden affection; perhaps it was the warm atmosphere you crafted or the intimacy of the moment, but the way tengen holds you so close is telling. he's about to say something you've been dreading since the day you met him.

"i love you." tengen confesses, nuzzling his face into your neck and sighing as if he'd just released the weight of the world off of his shoulders.

you knew it. it's the first time he's ever said it to you and you'll never forget the wave of nausea that hit you as you glanced up to see him staring back at you expectantly. your heart is pumping out of your chest and your face is flustered—not because you're flattered but because you're ashamed. you feel his hands squeeze your shoulders, almost like a warning, and his grip begins to feel claustrophobic after your prolonged silence.

you have no choice but to reciprocate.

"...I love you too." your voice is quiet, hesitant, and tengen gently teases you about being shy when you refuse to look at him anymore. he's not right but it's true that lying invokes shame.

he almost seems overwhelmed by your response, as if he hadn't just nonverbally threatened it out of you. you don't dare to sneak even a glance at him. he tightens his embrace around you and goes back to burying his face abashedly into your neck, mumbling sweet words against your skin. his body wraps around you like a vice, trapping you in the prison that is his dreadful existence.

you decide, in that very moment, that there was nothing in the world you wanted to do more than run away.

III. A DIRE MISTAKE

one fateful day, you catch wind of the news that tengen is being assigned on a mission quite far away, somewhere down in the southwest.

you're so lucked out that you thought it was a trap at first—a ploy to catch you in your undying desire to leave your husband for good. but when the day of departure arrives and tengen peppers your face with last minute kisses, you know for sure that there's no chance he's caught on to your resentment towards him, nor the plan of escape you've been devising all along.

your eyes are teary when tengen releases you from the last of his spine-crushing hugs and he cooes at your cute crying face. honestly, you're tearing up out of joy because your one and only chance to escape has literally fallen into your lap in a pleated handbasket, but you'll let him believe otherwise. you at least owe him the courtesy.

you already know you don't stand a chance against tengen, at least physically. he can overpower you like nothing and he's so tall that he towers over you, constantly caging you between those muscled arms of his. there's almost nothing you could do against a man like him—well, unless you count poisoning, but you were above murder when it came to getting what you wanted.

as soon as tengen passes through the looming gates of the residence and disappears down the winding road, you scramble to gather a few belongings before making your way out through the back. there's a twinge of fear that grips your gut but you press on, determined to put as much space between you and that wretched place you were expected to call home.

the moment you escaped, you flipped your identity. chopped your hair off, powdered your face in white make-up, and wore headscarves wherever you went. you fled as far as your feet would take you, only stopping to rest in a small village when your aching body could take you no further. you hardly spoke to anyone and left nothing behind that could possibly be traced back to you or be used to pursue you.

it's obvious you can't go back to your parents; they hated you when you lived with them, and they'd hate you more if you returned. they'd sell you out to tengen in two seconds flat, then ruthlessly shame you for running away from a marriage you wanted no part in. the only option left for you is to create a new life for yourself somewhere far, far away.

and that's exactly what you do. you find a little town on the outskirts of the red light district, where business is booming and it's easy to disguise yourself beneath the constant foot traffic. you go undercover as a seamstress, working in a homely tailor shop under the supervision of the owners, who are a kind older couple that are quick to regard of you as one of their own.

time marches on and the jarring memories of tengen do as well. you makes friends with the regulars that come by the store often. you've learned the valuable trade of mending clothing and sewing traditional patterns. you've even developed a crush on one of the men that come by often to repair his work uniform.

your life is finally the way you've always wanted it to be.

meanwhile, tengen copes—barely. days pass. weeks. months. you're still yet to be found, even with the help of all the hashira and the shinobi of his clan. it's as if you disappeared off the face of the planet. he's completely devastated. did you run away because he was gone for so long? were you feeling neglected? did you just want his attention? surely you wouldn't just up and leave when he'd been so loving; he truly couldn't think of anything that would prompt such an extreme reaction.

as expected, he doesn't come up with a justification for your disappearance. how could he? you could be dead by now with the amount of demon uprisings that have been happening lately. or you could even be halfway across the world right now, laughing at how easily you had fooled him. eventually, his sadness melts into anger. you may be gone now, but it won't be for long.

wherever you are, he'll find you.

IV. 'TIL DEATH DO HIM PART

in the following years, tengen's next three wives are chosen specifically by the head of his clan.

and, in the head of the clan's words: "the sound hashira's decision-making must be incredibly poor if he chose a wife who would dare flee from him." the statement only fans the flames of his growing wrath for you.

however, his new wives—suma, makio, and hinatsuru—are all beautiful and talented kunoichi who admire him to their very cores. as ungrateful as it sounds, there isn't a day where tengen wishes one of them were you. they've worked so hard to try and fill the gaping hole in his existence that was left by you, but it hasn't really been working. he needs you.

they're kind, caring, nurturing and most of all, strong. they've trained all their lives to be kunoichi. he knows he shouldn't complain but they just don't cook like you, look like you... aren't you. of course he loves them, but he could never forget the way his heart shattered the day he returned home to find you nowhere in sight. your disappearance left him in utter shambles. did you ever think about that when you left? you're so unbelievably selfish—is that the kind of woman you turned out to be?

his wives constantly question his lovesick behavior. tengen never hides anything from them; in fact, he'll sometimes go on long, borderline maniacal rambles about "the wife who got away." to suma, makio, and hinatsuru, you're an enigma that's broken the heart of their husband, and they're not sure what it was about you that makes him act this way. jealousy sparks—if there's a way to get you back to make tengen happy, they would do it, but maybe you're better off gone after all.

and it's not like tengen didn't search for you. oh no, he looked everywhere within reason. his duties as a hashira kept him chained to his missions near the demon slayers' headquarters, but that never stopped him from interrogating people when he got the chance. any woman that looked even remotely similar to you was sure to be stopped in the middle of the street for further investigation.

master kagaya is exceedingly understanding of the situation, and he bears obvious concern for his beloved sound hashira. while he's sympathetic of the loss of his wife—it's no matter to be taken lightly, of course—tengen must first be loyal to his occupation as a hashira, and that means going on missions in spite of his mourning.

and his newest missions leads him to the red light district.

so tengen goes. he knows his place when it comes to master kagaya, so he has no reason or authority to deny orders. regardless, it's a harrowing and tedious task. drunk concubines practically throw themselves into tengen's arms as he strolls past the many underground sex clubs that line the filthy streets. he has zero interest in any of the debauchery that goes on here, and he especially feels nothing when shoving them away from him with excessive force.

he scours the area for anyplace that looks decent enough to step foot in, as well as a place where he won't get immediately harassed by ran through harlots. turning down a quieter side street where some storefronts have been shuttered, he happens upon a small seamstress shop sandwiched between two restaurants that look as if they've closed early for the evening.

shrugging, tengen wearily thinks it's as good of a place as any to begin his intel gathering on the upper moons' whereabouts. he saunters towards the front entrance and a young woman dressed in traditional geisha wear passes him on the sparsely populated road, her wooden sandals clacking against the ground. he can't help but think her hair looked similar to yours and his heart twists painfully in his chest.

tengen seems to be constantly haunted by the thought of you, forming an obsession in his mind that won't go away until he has you back. until he knows your safe, with him, just like you were meant to be. until he sees you.

no, literally, tengen sees you, right in front of him.

through the window of the upscale seamstress shop, he sees you conversing with a man at the front counter, laughing heartily at a joke he must have made. tengen quickly crouches beneath the display window to spy on you, his heart pounding out of his chest at the events that are currently unfolding. he must be mistaken.

he peeks above the lip of the window to catch a glance and, sure enough, it is you. you're alive and well, almost glowing beneath the low, intimate lighting inside the shop.

he finally found you! he can't believe it. the grin that's stretching across his face is so broad. he'd recognize your face anywhere, even if it's caked in geisha makeup and your hair elaborately styled. you’re beautiful and he’s captivated by your beauty just as he was the day that he met you.

he's so unbelievably ecstatic with the way his hands are clamming up, his feet shuffling in the dirt and...

what?

creeping over the ledge of the display window once again, tengen's eyes immediately grow dark. there's a man there. talking to you. his wife.

in the midst of your conversation, your eyes absently float over to the window. it's there that your gaze clashes with his, and a blood-curdling look of terror overtakes your features. is that… tengen?

there's a shift in the air. what happens next, tengen doesn't recall, but when he comes to there's blood on his hands and your hair is bundled up in his fist as he drags you past the threshold the of the shop’s entrance. he looks over his shoulder and on the floor, spread eagle, lies the man without his head. the scene is gruesome.

he killed him.

tengen looks down at you with a solemn gaze. for some reason, he doesn't even care. the emotions running through him are almost too much to bear. do you know how much your disappearance has destroyed him? do you know how much he's suffered because of you? do you even care?

he doesn't understand why you're crying. it seems like you were happy enough to whore around with other men in his absence. the thought drives him to the brink of insanity. how much longer do you plan on humiliating him?

there's too much to be said. tengen's mouth is agape and he's so upset at you that he can't find the right words to express himself. instead, he collapses to the floor beside you and embraces you in his longing arms. he smells your hair and feels how your body shrinks against his—it's all exactly how it used to be. it's exactly as he remembered, as he dreamed of.

and now, as tengen scoops you up into his arms to take you back home, another dream of his will be fulfilled tonight. he knows exactly what kind of punishment is befit for you.

V. A JUST PUNISHMENT — (NSFW: NON-CON)

"tengen-sama! you're ba-"

a woman with colored bangs and a ponytail attempts to greet tengen as he enters, but she's cut off by not only the expression on his face but also the strange, disheveled woman he's hauling behind him.

he drags you across the cold, laminated wood floors into the bedroom by your hair and peels the delicate, silken layers of your yukata back, exposing soft flesh and ample curves. tengen is so starved of your touch—of your voice, your scent, you. he'll make you pay for what you put him through. he'll make you stay this time.

you can't even fight back. you're so afraid of what's going to happen that your body refuses to move, to speak. and even if you could, there was no way you would win against a hashira, of all people.

tengen starts by pushing you to your knees. when his hands begin the hasty work of undoing the belt of his kimono, you already know where this is going and it makes your stomach churn in volatile sickness. he eagerly slides his under pants down and from the top of its elastic band springs his semi-hard cock, which nearly hits you in the face. you gasp at the sheer size of it; that is not gonna fit inside of you.

"don't look at me like that, [name]. clearly i was too lenient with you back then. i should've disciplined you..." he trails off as he stares into your pleading eyes. he smiles but, in it, is no mercy.

"c'mon, baby. you'll be a good girl and open your mouth for me, won't you?"

you refuse. no, you wouldn't even dream of it. you've never done anything sexual with a man before and you certainly aren't going to wi—

tengen suddenly reaches down and grabs ahold of your now tangled hair with one of his large hands. it takes barely any pressure before your mouth is pried open by the force of his fingers alone, and his now engorged cock head is being stuffed into your warm, unyielding mouth.

you can only let out a choked cry at the vile intrusion.

"that's it, baby, good girl.." he praises, stroking your head with his thumb as he slowly inches his pulsing cock down your throat.

your screams are completely muffled. tengen begins to pick up the pace, letting your drool be the lubricant that allows his giant dick to slide in and out of your tight throat. it hurts so bad that you try to bite down and free yourself from this act of vulgarity, but tengen doesn't allow it. he instead tugs your head back by the grip he has on your hair, forces his cock all the way in, and holds you there until you decide to behave yourself.

you can hardly breath. lewd, wet noises fill the room as tengen gags you almost to the point of unconsciousness. the vibrations from your screaming must have been making him feel good, though, because it takes just a few minutes before he's shuddering in orgasm as he bottoms out and cums, which you have no choice but to swallow.

he pulls out of your mouth and you're mortified, but even more so when you see how he's still hard. his cock is covered in a thick layer of your saliva and his cum drips onto your exposed chest in globs that make you cringe in disgust. you think you're going to throw up.

and you almost do, if it weren't for tengen picking you up from under your arms and tossing you onto the plush bedding. your legs are forced open and tengen slides his twitching cock against your pussy, slowly and teasingly. you begin to fight against him but he easily pins you down long enough to push his fat cock head into your tight pussy.

tengen pounds you into the plush cushion of the futon all night long. you've given up struggling and crying, only mewling in pain as the brutish man stretches your virgin pussy wide. he ruthlessly kneads your breasts with his calloused palms and overstimulates your clit with his fingers until you cream and squirt repeatedly all over his dick. you can do nothing but lay there as he roughly moves your body into various positions and fills your womb with his seed—there's no way you won't be pregnant after this.

all the pent up rage that tengen was forced to weather after your disappearance is released in that very room. he sounds like a crazy man with the way he lapses in and out of fits of rage where he's cursing at you with his hands around your throat, then slipping into pleasure induced "i love you's" as he dumps yet another load of cum deep inside of you.

"h-how does it feel, my love?" he groans, reaching over to caress your flushed face. "mm, you sound so cute making those noises. lemme hear you scream, darling."

and oh, you sure do scream. for him to stop, to get off of you. that you've had enough. that you hate him. over and over again you scream, you cry, and you struggle, but it does you no good. he only seems to thrust faster the more you beg. is he getting off to your desperation? he must be by the way his cock pulses at any form of physical resistance from you.

you thought it would never end. he's almost insatiable. your tears have long dried up—for the most part, anyway—but the skin on your face feels raw from tengen "lovingly" wiping all your tears and snot away while simultaneously pounding a you-shaped hole into the futon. you feel disgusting. you don't even have the strength to make a sound when he spanks you for the hundredth time, moaning heatedly about how you've been such a bad, bad girl.

when it seems like he's finally spent, he doesn't pull out. instead, he collapses on top of you with his cock still twitching inside your sloppy, ruined cunt while drawing you in for an unreciprocated kiss. he whispers praises in your ear and gently strokes your face, cooing at how much you're trembling against his much larger form.

"i should've done this a long time ago. maybe you wouldn't have left if i dumped my kids into you sooner."

eventually, his softened cock slips out of you and a gush of warmth runs down your legs; you can already feel a soreness settling in your pelvis. tengen sighs contentedly at the sopping squelch that sounds when you snap your legs shut in order to roll as far away from him as possible. he roughly wraps a muscled arm around your waist and pulls you back towards him as soon as he sees your attempt to create distance.

"i missed you so much, darling," tengen mumbles against your skin breathily, offering a soft smile. "did you enjoy your welcome back?"

he's making fun of you. you refuse to even look at him. it's to be expected, really, he can't imagine how bad it must feel to think you actually got away from him as you lay in his arms once again, right where you belong. you need to learn your place; no wife of his will disrespect him like you did ever again. if you have to be an example of that, then so be it—youput this on yourself, after all.

leaving you with a final kiss, he gets up, wraps a towel around his waist, and goes to let his other wives into the room to help clean you up (they've been waiting patiently ever since you showed up, curious about the woman who supposedly "stole tengen's heart," as he put it). you're still naked and exposed with tengen's cum leaking down your thighs but you don't even have the mental capacity to care anymore. all three of the girls look shocked at the state you're in, but they don't comment and rush to get you in the bath.

they're all very pretty, of course. when you emerge from your haze of disorientation, you're left reeling at the fact that tengen had amassed three whole wives in light of your absence. well, not that you have any right to be surprised considering your short lived emotional affair. you're still in mourning over what had happened to him.

regardless of your fragile state, the three women swarm you with questions that prod at your past: who you are, where you're from, and how you met tengen. you don't even have half the mind to reply. you can only stare at your tear-stricken reflection in the soapy water, ready to burst into tears yet again at the horrible predicament you've found yourself in.

what can you do now? sit around and get bred by tengen? rot away in this dreadful house for the rest of your life? the other wives seem to catch onto your unresponsiveness after a couple dozen of their questions go ignored, so they sit quietly and gently wash you clean. they look genuinely worried for you—not that their pity will undo the damage that's already been done.

makio will scrub your back and grumble about how jealous she is while suma and hinatsuru fret over the small bruises that are now beginning to form around your hips from tengen's manhandling. suma washes your hair next, commenting on how beautiful it is, while the other two move onto rinsing the soap from your body. they wrap you up in a fluffy towel when it's over, and a shiver wracks your spine when their hands guide you to another room, down the hall, with a clean bed ready for you to rest in.

you don't really know who they are but since they're dressed like kunoichi, it's obvious that they don't share the same mindset you do, or were forced to be wed to tengen like you were. you can't ask them to help you escape from this hell, not a chance.

even as you lay in the criminally comfortable futon with new silken pajamas, a cup of cold water at your side, and a warm blanket, sleep doesn't find you.

and with tengen around, you're certain it never will.

VI. A HAPPY EVER AFTER (EXTRA)

a few months later, your pregnancy symptoms are in full swing.

tengen is as protective as ever and the other wives have already grown attached to you despite your bitter and unforgiving attitude towards them. you learn quickly that they're all very... obsessive, constantly hovering over you and going to overbearing extremes to make sure you don't do anything that would physically strain yourself in any way.

hinatsuru and makio follow at your heels like guard dogs while suma takes charge of most of the cooking and cleaning. she keeps the peace most of the time and holds makio back when she's attempting to murder hinatsuru over something childish. you're never in the mood to talk to them, however, and they often try to bribe you with your favorite sweets (which is intel that they've gathered from tengen) in order to get you to participate in their activities.

unluckily for you, tengen had decided to completely retire from being a hashira following a particularily harrowing encounter with an upper moon demon (even after you tried to subtly guilt trip him into not doing so). he insisted that you and the baby were "more important." you know that it'd be difficult to escape with the other wives around but to add tengen on top of that makes it surely impossible.

every morning, the dreadful man himself meets the four of you in the kitchen and will beam proudly at the sight of his adorable little harem. he goes down the line and gives affection to each of his wives individually, in the way they prefer, and saves you for last as you're his "greatest prize," or whatever he said. you're just completely exhausted and you resent them all from the deepest depths of your heart. the least you can do is make it obvious.

tengen finds your rebellion adorable. everything about you is and even moreso now than when you left him all those years ago. he'll grab you by the jaw and force you into a quick one-sided kiss, pulling away with that fond smile of his. his fingers ghost over your swelling tummy but his very touch makes you feel so awfully sick. you'll roughly push him away and he's so out of his mind that he attributes your justified anger and moodiness to your "pregnancy hormones." regardless, he's happy. it's you who's going to bear his child. it's you who first said you loved him too. as long as you live, you're bound to him as his wife. nothing can come between a man and the woman he loves; uzui tengen certainly made sure of that, didn't he?

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere tengen x reader #yandere uzui tengen #yandere kny #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #yandere demon slayer x reader #yandere male #uzui tengen

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luvhughes43 · 1 month ago

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BOYFRIEND | quinn hughes

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌙]

based off the song boyfriend by ariana grande

summary: every summer without fail you and quinn fall back into old habits... you two aren't official but the feelings are there.

word count: 3.4k

i'm a motherfuckin' train wreck i don't wanna be too much but i don't wanna miss your touch and you don't seem to give a fuck

all of your life you had four loves. there was shitty reality television, your home state-michigan, your summers at your familys lake house, and then there was quinn hughes.

you had always loved him even if you hadn't recognized it yourself. back then, both of your parents would make little comments about how they're going to end up together one day! but when you stayed in michigan and quinn moved to vancouver everything changed.

when quinn left school to pursue hockey you assumed that your friends with benefits situation would fizzle out. but it hadn't. and so youre left wanting as you watch the brunet boy trapeze around his backyard - greeting boys he'd seen countless times over the hockey season while you were stuck at school.

when you finally do catch this eye, he waltz over with a shit-eating grin. "hey, haven't seen you in awhile," he teases, pulling you under his impressive arm. you stumble into his side with practice ease and quinn tilts his head to look down your solo cup. "the fuck is that?"

you hold the cup over your head to where you assumed his lips would be, "i dont know jack made it - 'could be anything,"

quinn reaches for the cup and takes a measured sip. "that'll kill you," he winces, spilling the cups contents on the grass and tossing the cup along with it.

you sigh, peeved. quinn did this thing where he assumes he knows what's best. "i was actually drinking that,"

"yeah, yeah, i'll get you something else," he says distractedly as someone from across the yard flags him down.

just as quinns about to leave again you grab his arm and pull him back to you. even though you're embarrassed to ask you lower your voice and whisper, "when am i going to see you again?"

quinn pauses. "like, are we gonna..."

you remain silent, not wanting to say what you truly want. it was easier to hint at your forays instead of being honest about things. "i'll catch up with you tonight, promise" he kisses the underside of your wrist before shouting playfully to someone in the distance.

i don't wanna keep you waiting but i do just what i have to do and i might not be the one for you but you ain't about to have no boo

an hour later you wander inside the boy's house to grab yourself a refill. there was still no sign of quinn - and so you decide to unwind a little bit before the night truly got underway. every year the guys would host a party to reign in the end of the season. guys from across the country would travel and spend a week in michigan celebrating with packs of zyns, cases of beer, and endless rounds of golf.

"zyn?" trevor zegras says as he holds out a small white pouch towards you. you shake your head no and trevor shoves the circular box back into his short pockets.

"i heard he's single," a girl to your left whispers loudly to a group of her friends. trevors head turns instinctively,but you pay the group of girls no attention.

"ten bucks they're talking about me," trevor leans down and whispers.

"twenty bucks they're not," you announce back and then the two of you messily shake on it. you probably shouldn't have gone to jack for a refill on his concoction but quinn was taking too long so...

"well quinns hot so if he is single, i'll try it," you're not sure what it was exactly but your face heats up regardless. beside you, trevor groans and fishes his wallet out of his back pocket.

youre pretty sure he tries to hand you a wad of crumpled up ones but you were no longer paying attention to trevor or your bets. instead, your focus shifted to a gorgeous blonde hyping herself up to go and talk to your best friend.

'cause I know we be so complicated but we be so smitten, it's crazy i can't have what I want, but neither can you

"alright... i know they're wrinkled but cash is legal tender..." trevor trails off obnoxiously and thus you grab hold of his ten dollars clenching your fist.

"i'll see you later?" you call out distractedly, solely focused on the blonde approaching quinn across the room.

you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to see nobody else and I don't want you to see nobody

it was wrong to use others for personal gain but you were sure there had to be an exception for making somebody jealous. plus, it wasn't like quinn was a saint either.

you vividly remember how quinn chatted up some girl in your class two years ago at a frat party. it was a shitty thing to do, considering how much you complained about that particular girls work ethic after she left you hanging on a group project.

the next morning, quinn had stopped by your apartment to apologize with a bouquet of peonies in hand. you had reluctantly forgiven him, but because the two of you weren't exactly exclusive the fight dissolved on your tongue before you could even properly fight about it.

"hey baby," you tease all your syllables - making sure the baby really rings out in tune. quinns smile doesn't falter at your emergence, instead, he grins as his attention turns from the blonde and onto you.

"y/n," he glances between you and the new girl. you'd have to work for his attention a little more than you'd like to tonight. "as i was saying..." quinn resumes his conversation with the girl slowly, trying his hardest to piss you off.

a tuft of dark black hair peeks it's way through your peripheral and your head immediately turns to find alex turcotte standing alone a few feet away. "turcs!" you call out in the same teasing tone you'd used on quinn and alexs attention is immediately focused on you.

"baby!" he yells jovially, and you could not have planned something better yourself. baby, was a nickname assigned to you after a particular summer in which you were obsessed with dirty dancing. you had pranced around the house to its soundtrack and forced anybody who was around to dance with you - all embarrassingly bad imitations of patrick swayze.

you dont turn to acknowledge quinns reaction but you imagine it as you sway your way over to alex. quinns face would be scrunched up in annoyance, and his eyes would darken just a tad to accompany his scowl. if there was one thing quinn hated more than he liked teasing you, it was you teasing him back.

"so strong!" you laugh loudly, gripping onto alex's arm. his hand brushes across your lower back and you smile brightly when he leaves it resting there.

"you really know how to work a guy, huh?" he laughs before removing his hand altogether. "what are you drinking?" he asks then, shifting tones dramatically from flirtatious to friends-since-childhood.

"i don't know jack made it," you hold the cup up to his face and he recoils with a scuff.

"you're going to be so sick tomorrow,"

you take a sip of your drink before glancing back in quinns direction. his dark eyes were still trained on you but the blonde was still at his side. flirting with alex was truly petty. both you and quinn knew nothing would ever come of it but it was still fun to get him riled up anyway.

but you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to touch nobody else baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

"want to get me something else?" you ask with a soft voice and you hope it carries to where quinns standing.

alex looks at you momentarily before shaking his head quickly. "uh, yeah, yeah let's go to the kitchen..." you take the lead in your venture to the kitchen and alex slinks his arm around your waist.

you barely make it out of the living room before quinn interrupts your path. "hey man, its been awhile," his smile is strained as he reaches a hand out to alex. the two greet each other and the flashes of disappointment on quinns face is evident when alex doesnt take his arm away from your body.

"where ya two heading?" he asks.

alex hits his solo cup against yours and a slosh of molten liquid rolls over the rim of your cup and onto your new white shoes. "this one needs a new drink. jack made her another one his his "concoctions,"" alex laughs easily but quinns face is entirely tense.

you stay silent.

"oh, i can take her," quinn says with a slight edge.

"it's no worries i can do it," alex assures him with a small smile. "i think jacks in the kitchen and i wanna say hello," he adds when quinn makes no move to back down.

"uh, i just saw him go outside actually," quinn states and you wonder if you should interrupt.

the two boys stare at each other tensely and alex drops his hand from your waist. "i'll see you later baby?" alex mutters lowly, and your head spins from whatever moment you just missed right there.

you nod dismissively to alex and watch in silence as he rapidly walks out of the living room. "what was that for?" you ask quinn as soon as you turn to face him. as expected, his eyebrows were scrunched together and his face show small signs of annoyance.

"you need a drink," is all quinn responds with, and you follow behind him slowly as he maneuvers his way through small crowds of people.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

your vodka cranberry was slowly spilling its contents onto quinns hardwood floor as it lay discarded.

"your floors getting all wet," you mumble against quinns lips the second the two of you pull apart. his hair was messy and his cheeks flush when he notices you staring.

"dont care," he huffs, pulling your hips flush against his own. "'been too long sine i've seen you last,"

you kiss his neck teasingly, "the wood will get ruined,"

quinn sighs and pulls away from you. he strips his shirt off and lets it fall atop your discarded solo cup. his confidence was something that had grown over the years and you were pleasantly delighted.

"thank you," you whisper to him as he slides his arms back against you. you wait for him to say something - mention what happened downstairs but quinn remains silent.

instead, he leads you backwards to his bed with well practiced ease. the games you two play were fun when they ended up like this, but at the same time you felt a twinge for something more.

even though you ain't mine, i promise the way we fight make me honestly feel like we just in love 'cause baby, when push comes to shove damn baby, i'm a train wreck, too (too) i lose my mind when it comes to you i take time with the ones I choose and I don't want to smile if it ain't from you, yeah

the sun streams through quinns open curtains, blinding him momentarily as his eyes adjust to the morning light. when everything comes into focus the first thing he notices is your figure curled up on the other side of his bed like a cat. quinn stretches and despite the brief disturbance your eyes stay firmly closed.

downstairs the house was a mess. empty bottles and cups littered the wood floors and empty food wrappers crinkle uncomfortably under quinns tired feet.

"morning," jack says as soon as his older brother steps into the dimly lit kitchen. jacks sandy hair is tousled and if his undereye bags were any indication of how he was feeling... it was clear that he was unwell.

"you look like shit," quinn chuckles as he tosses jack a bottle of aspirin.

"gee, thanks." jack rolls his eyes but pops a pill nonetheless.

quinn fixes himself some toast and the two brothers sit in comfortable silence.

"where's yn," jack asks, nursing a yellow gatorade.

"sleeping,"

jack hums in acknowledgement. he stares inquisitively at his brother - silently hinting at what's going on between the blurred lines of quinns and yns relationship, but quinn ignores him.

i know we be so complicated lovin' you sometime drive me crazy 'cause i can't have what I want and neither can you

late the next afternoon after tirelessly scrubbing down the floors and tossing out empty cans, the group of hockey players and friends make their way onto the lake.

as always, quinn drives and docks the boat in the middle of the lake so the group could swim and yn could suntan on the hard, white seats of the boat.

quinn wasnt an idiot. he knew that his best friend was hot. the stolen glances and not-so-subtle double takes weren't lost on him as his friends ogled her. she was undeniably gorgeous and someday their relationship wouldn't be enough anymore. she would eventually want more, and quinn wasn't sure he'd be able to give her a relationship she deserved from two thousand miles away.

you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and i ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to see nobody else and i don't want you to see nobody

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yourusername daydreamin' 🧸

"what's the deal with yn and quinn anyway? have they always been so... intense?" alexander holtz asks between shooting pool.

jack sighs, "yeah theyre always like that. i wish they'd just get over whatever they've got going on and get together already. its honestly painful to watch," jack jokes tensely.

alex tuts, "i wish she were available"

another guy hums, "she's a total smoke show,"

"ew, shes like our sister," luke pipes up.

"your sister maybe," someone laughs. "she ain't mine,"

quinn silently turns away from the rec room to find you.

but you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and i ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to touch nobody else baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

"hey," you smile sweetly at quinns presence. he stares at you simply before sitting down on the decksteps next to you. he frowns when you set your book down beside you and you press your knee to his in an attempt to calm him. "what's wrong?"

quinn sighs deeply. "i just - i dont know. what are we doing?"

"what do you mean?" you ask even though you know where this conversation is heading.

quinn gestures between the two of you, "we've... things are different now,"

"i don't know what you're talking about," you say, genuinely taken off guard. "if this is about the party...?"

"we'd be an awful couple," quinn cuts in.

"who called us a couple?,"

"look, you're going to want more eventually and-"

you scoff. "are you going to actually talk to me? because i'm fine with out arrangement," you lie.

quinn stares at you with an unreadable expression. "look, it's not going to work"

"did the guys say something to you?" you bite. you reach your hand out to quinn but he pushes it away.

"no. i just don't think us being... involved... is a good idea anymore,"

"'involved'" you say sarcastically. you've been hooking up for three years now.

quinn stands up suddenly, "yeah. it's over - i'm over it,"

"okay?" youre defiant. "don't come begging to me when you see me with another guy - or when you need a quick lay. god, youre such an asshole!"

i wanna kiss you (yeah), don't wanna miss you (yeah) but i can't be with you 'cause i got issues yeah, on the surface, seem like it's easy careful with words, but it's still hard to read me

quinn didn't know why he shut everything down. he didn't want to - not really anyway. it was all so stupid and he shouldn't have reacted at all.

Stress high when the trust low (mmm) Bad vibes, where'd the fun go? (Oh) Try to open up and love more (love more) Try to open up and love more

the two friends move around each other awkwardly and the tension in the house was palpable. you start to skip out on summer activities, and quinn no longer seems to enjoy driving out into the lake when you were no longer sitting by his side. everything felt wrong.

If you were my boyfriend If you were my girlfriend I probably wouldn't see nobody else But I can't guarantee that by myself

"you know what, i'm glad we decided to all us quits. you were totally right! we wouldnt have made a good couple - you probably wouldnt have stopped seeing other people," your tone is scorching as you finally catch quinn alone.

"yeah well considering your track record you'd probably have gotten with somebody else before i even boarded my flight back to van," quinns quick to defend himself - leaving you reeling.

"what the fuck are you talking about?" you seethe, letting all your emotions wash over you at once.

"alex, that guy from u of m, the fucking football player!" quinn stresses the names of the last two, knowing those were the guys you hooked up while you were both at school.

you throw your arms up in the air, "you are such a hypocrite! do you know that? like seriously. lets not go tit for tat here quinn because trust i'll win every time,"

"everything always a game with you,"

you stare at him blankly. "what are we doing then? you told me the jealously was fun, you were the one who led me to your bed last week! you didn't want to get into a relationship in a first place!"

"so did you! don't spin this back on me!"

"i never said that!" you yell, "and i never got with alex,"

You ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend, you ain't my boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, I ain't your girlfriend) But you don't want me to see nobody else (nobody) And I don't want you to see nobody

"you might as well be," quinn tries to bait you but you dont respond.

tears well up in your eyes, "you said you didn't see us being in an actual relationship"

at the sight of your tears quinn starts to backtrack. "im sorry-"

"no, i started all this," you say, wiping away your tears with the back of your sleeve. "i'm sorry for getting mad at you - i'm done,"

"what do you mean youre done?" quinn responds, following behind you as you walk back into the lake house. as soon as the sliding door slams shut heads turn towards the two of you.

"you said you were done and i agree," you say simply, tears threatening to spill over as you catch sight of luke staring at you in confusion.

without another word you storm up the stairs and begin packing your suitcase.

But you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend, you know you ain't my boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, yeah, mmm) But you don't want me to touch nobody else (nobody) Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody (oh yeah)

your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as you drive the fifteen minute trip to your parents house. it was over, finally over between the two of you.

You ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) But you don't want me to see nobody else And I don't want you to see nobody

a week went by, and everybody presses quinn on why you left.

"i don't know guys, stop asking me about it," his answer stays the same, although his undereyes get considerably darker as the days go by.

But you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, yeah) But you don't want me to touch nobody else (nobody) Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

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yourusername baby loves 🎧

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yourfriend baby loves im tryna talk to youuuuu

yourusername theres a boy ! and i dont quite know... what to dooo

_alexturcotte stunner ⚡️

user01 did u and quinn have a fight or something ? why did u guys unfollow each other lololll

user05 literal princess !!!

user11 quinn unfollowed and alex commenting... 👀

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_quinnhughes summa with the brothers 🤟

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trevorzegras #Aesthetic

user08 no mention of yn... were cooked

user15 first summer photo numb in yearrrssss where yn didnt make a feature... 🫣👀

────୨ৎ──── ended insanely abruptly but i wanted to post something for u guys today😭

────୨ৎ────

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl blurb

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lilacrwses · 12 days ago

Text

▸ their s/o is drunk and doesn't recognize 'em

summary: Partying all night, dancing and definitely drinking made you drunk enough to not recognize your sweet boyfriend.

ft: iwaizumi, bokuto

note: i hope you guys like this, it’s been a while

Iwaizumi

Iwa just came back from a training camp overseas, so he was really tired and just want to cuddle with you.

Might he be forgetting that you were partying out with your friends so he expects that you won't be coming home early?

He did quite everything while waiting for you, cleaning the apartment-which by the way he realized that it was already clean enough on its own.

He took a bath, and would probably get in trouble as he used your favorite bath bomb without permission, but nothing a kiss can't fix.

Well, what he had to do next was just wait for you. The moment his phone lights up and recognizes his ringtone only for your contact- he rushes swiftly and answered it only to be welcomed by your friends voice?

"Iwaizumi-chan, hello! Can you pick up Y/n at XXX-XXX-XXX. She's pretty tipsy at the momeng. Don't rush though! we'll be with her till you're here." He gets his car keys and locks the apartment door before going out. "I'll be there in 5." He quickly presses the red button which ends the call.

Numerous thoughts were clouding his brain right now. Mainly focused on you and how tipsy are you.

In just a couple of minutes, his phone had told him to turn and then he'll arrive at his destination. No doubt that you were right there sitting out at one of the chairs of the club with your friends.

To say that you were cute doing nothing makes him realize how badly he's down for you.

"Iwaizumi-chan! Thank god you're here. She's been telling us how much she misses you, please take care of her from her." Iwa nods and gave a wave to your friends and then focuses his vision on your body.

He walked closer to your figure and helped you stand, but he was just pushed away. Dumbfounded he cooed you and tried again.

"If you lay your hand on me one. more. time, I promise my boyfriend will beat you into a pulp." he smirks and leans in closer to your face.

"Oh yeah? I bet you must love your boyfriend to reject someone like me huh." He plays along with the drunken act. "I love him so much that it hurts." He panics when tears came out of his eyes.

"Hey baby, what's wrong?" Iwaizumi cups your cheeks and wiped the stray tears away. You looked into his eyes and you noticed a familiar warm loving gaze that you'd been missing for a while.

"Are you my hajime? B-but he wasn’t supposed to come home till….tonight" You hiccup.

“You’re my haji!”

"Yes, baby. Now, will you let me touch you now?" You nodded and jumped into his arms right now.

"Ooof- Careful right there." He didn't hear anything but your cute little snores, he might be tired right now but having that little talk with you just gave him a bit-- a lot of energy in return.

Bokuto

This big ball of fluff was with his teammates for an after-party game.

You, on the other hand, are with your friends and are bar hopping. Expectantly Bokuto wandered his eyes searching for a familiar person, but none to be found.

He just thought that you are still probably having fun with your friends.

He reassured himself that a little bit over twelve is still early so here he is patiently waiting for you (even though there's a slight chance you'll never come) while still enjoying his time with his very own friends.

From the perspective of his teammates, it was odd to see Bokuto sitting in one place and not moving so much. Is it because of his drink?

The loud music of the bar made communication a tad difficult. However, Bokuto did not fail to hear his phone ring with the help of the ringing vibration, of course.

His face did lit up when he saw your nickname on his screen and almost took no time to answer the phone.

"My pretty baby! I miss you so much, What took you so long to call, I was waiting." Bokuto is now in his baby voice pouting, much to his joy it was actually your friend who called him and told him you guys were sitting from a distance to where he and his teammates were.

"Oh, thanks! I'll be right there in a minute." It might seem that Bokuto was drinking beer the whole time but it was actually just an orange juice. He didn't plan on getting drunk before he could pick you up.

Akaashi had told him it was not a gentlemanly move to be drunk and be taken care of his s/o. But to be completely honest, Akaashi just told him that so he could spare you handling Bokuto's weakness #12.

He finally saw where you were when he noticed one of your friends waved their hands to get Bokuto's attention. "Bokuto-kun, we're really sorry. She got pretty enthusiastic and got carried away." your friend scratched her nape.

"It's ok, I'll take her from here. Thanks for dropping by though."

Your friends bid goodbyes to Bokuto before leaving. Your boyfriend helped you stand up, you were blinking your eyes trying to see the person that's in front of you. The moment Bokuto landed his hands to your waist you pushed him enough to collide with another person.

Bokuto apologized repeatedly before directing his attention to you again. His thoughts start to bother him. Couldn't you recognize him? How many drinks did you take?

But He tried again, "Y/n baby, it's Kou. You're boyfriend." It seemed that his puppy eyes were enough for you to recognize him.

"Kou?" He nodded

"Yes! Yes, baby!"

You immediately jumped your way to Bokuto, and kissed him."You're my Kou!" He laughed catching you in his arms. "Now let's get you home." He kisses your lips before dropping a text to his team's group chat.

Akaashi was right! He should be taking care of you when you're drunk. Only because he gets to see this new side of you.

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mggsv · 11 months ago

Text

CHEER FOR ME CAPTAIN !! ☆

f!reader x perv!gojo satoru (18+) | not proof read | reblog please!

summary : Satoru who’s hated you since he first laid eyes on you freshman year of highschool…Satoru who started teasing you then. Satoru who can’t stand the fact that you’re in college together- with you being captain of the cheer team and him a basketball player. Gojo who can’t stand that he didn’t fuck you before you gained a reputation.

warnings : reader is poc coded, pervy!gojo, bet making, porn with plot, reader’s nipples are pierced, degrading, hair pulling, gojo’s tongue is pierced, lots of dirty talk, slight spanking, mutual masturbation

“She’s a stuck up cunt.” Satori’s voice rang out, filled with disgust as he watched your soft skin move in the small red skirt. “Not to mention a slut. I’ve heard the rumors.. of course she’s easy.” He scoffs. But his blue eyes said differently. His brows furrowed, concentrating on how easy you made it look. How your ass jiggled with every step. To say he was hard would be an understatement: he wanted to fuck, and every time he asked you said no.

The first time was graduation. You went to high school together and he finally noticed you. Freshman year, you were nothing more than another obstacle in his way in the halls. He never apologized for shoving you out of the way, or when he’d bump into you and ultimately knocking your things out of your hands.

But graduation…oh graduation. How cute you were wearing those little glasses and wide smile sported by your plump lips. It couldn’t get any better, but then you walked. Oh you walked…those smooth legs striding to get the well deserved diploma. Satoru hated that he didn’t see you before- all this time such a thing was lying in front of him….innocent and untouched. Trapped in baggy clothes and good grades. He wanted nothing more than to rub his long fingers in that small space between your legs and cup your juicy cunt until his fingers were coated in your slick. He wanted his face buried between your legs, tongue deep into your pretty pussy while you moaned his name. He wanted his cock deep in your heat, feeling your pussy tightening around his big dick.

Geto stifled out a small laugh as he watched you along with Gojo. “She’s a slut for not fucking you but everyone else?” They’re best friends- inseparable at that. Geto knew of Gojo’s little infatuation with you- He’s fucked you , so Geto’s commentary made it no better. Gojo gave him a side glare before standing, sighing dramatically as he ran a hand through his hair. “Invite her to the party later.”

“You know I am. Probably still won’t fuck you though.” Geto stands up with him. “That’s not what I-!” Blue eyes flicker at the sound of laughter. He almost moaned seeing you touching your toes..stretching, your ass in the air. Fuckkk he had many regrets, but you? His biggest. “Just- make sure she’s there. This time I will fuck her. Maybe we’ll date too~ think she’ll be open for marriage?” He had a little smirk as the pair left the gym.

Word of the party spread fast as it usually did. Knowing Geto threw the best parties. He was a sorority leader after all. What made the knees even better was Gojo being there. The all-star player, Geto’s best friend, the best fuck around. You yawned and stretched, looking at the text from Geto, and the unopened ones before that. He bugged you every other week about getting his dick wet again, it wouldn’t happen, though. Even when you guys did it, it was a one time thing and he knew that- Stil, he liked bothering you. You look at the text under it, ‘Wear your uniform too.’, and groan. You knew for a fact it was another little thing to try and get Gojo and you together. You didn’t like him much..he picked on you, and you hated people who did that. That being said, you never missed the slick touches he made when you passed him by. The way he came to your practices and watched you stretch. When during the basketball games he pointed at you before ultimately winning the game.

At some point people assumed you dated on the low. That was quickly shut down whenever he did ask you out, which was often.

“Oh come on..i’ll be all alone tonight.” Satoru had whined, arms wrapping around your waist, chin on your shoulder. He was sweaty, having just won the game. “It’s the weekend princess..cmon cheer for me again? G..O..Let’s go Gojo~!” He mocked your voice. Gojo’s face tucks into your neck, teeth grazing the tired skin.

“Fuck off Satoru.” you had pushed him off, ignoring the whistles from the team.

And it only started from there. It was strange how he wanted your attention now that you were someone worth something. But you couldn’t deny how hot it felt, perhaps it was just the rush of cheering on your feet for hours.

The party was no better. You walked through the crowd of people in different outfits- suddenly feeling better that you showing up in your cheer uniform wouldn’t be humiliating. This time you wore it with different accessories. Your curly hair in a half up style, wearing a pair of red thigh high socks to cordinate with the short skirt that showed the bottom of your ass per usual- this time without the shorts underneath.

“Look at you..” You hear Geto’s voice. Glancing up, you see him in nothing but a pair of sweatpants with his sorority’s symbol on his stomach. “Damn.” he coughs, nodding and grabbing a red cup. “Drink?”

“You know it.” frowning at the fact that he was alone. It was unusual. He and Satoru were always together. You glance down at the clear liquid in the cup before taking a sip. “Where’s the idiot?” You look around the room. Geto’s chuckles, bending down to your ear. “You want the truth or a lie?” It sent shivers down your spine, his hair tickling your shoulder. Scoffing, you move away from him a bit. “See, now you’re acting weird.” You begin to walk away, but didn’t get far. You jump right into someone, spilling the alcoholic drink on the both of you. “Shit! I’m sorry-“

“Damn Captain…I just washed my jersey and now look..tsk tsk~” Your stomach turned at the sound of Satoru’s voice. He had grabbed your hands, pulling you into him more. “So what are you gonna do about it?” He whispers lowly. His eyes were on you and you only. “Get off of me-“ You huff and push against his chest. He chuckles and lets you go, holding his hands up. The wet stain visible in the material of his jersey. You were silently thanking the universe that basketball season was over. “Sorry, Gojo.” you cough, staring up at him in a slight embarrassment. It reminded you of too much..it reminded you of highschool, and then you felt disgusted. Scoffing, you turn away from him.

“Oh come on- what’s your problem with me huh?” Gojo whined as he follows you. You wanted to be out of the house and quick as possible, not feeling the vibe anymore. Instead trying to get away from Gojo lead you anywhere but out. Pretty soon you were both in an isolated area in the frat house. You cross your arms, the alcoholic smell on your uniform starting to make you sick.

“My problem? My problem is you! It’s always been you. You’ve picked on me since high school and now I’m actually someone you see you want to fuck me! You’re weird!” Your face was flushed. Gojo’s little smirk turned into a small frown. You didn’t realize it but your eyes had watered, your arms tightening around yourself.

“And i can’t stand knowing that I wanna say yes.” you murmured to his surprise. He took a step forward, backing you against a door. Gojo’s face was close to yours. “Well shit princess if that was all you could’ve said that two “can i fuck you?”s ago.” Snorting his hand crept down to your skirt. You felt hot between the legs, the air around you both becoming insufferable. “Fuck this.” you grumble, opening the door to a bathroom. You both stumble inside, your hand hurriedly taking off your top. Your nipples sprang free.

“Holy fuck this is real.” Dumbass had said , his cock hard in his pants. you rubbed your thighs together, hands moving to tug at the pierced buds. “Stop standing there before I change my mind.” You rushed out, feeling a bit embarrassed. Gojo had muttered something along the line of not having to tell him twice..

“F-Fuck- fuck princess~! That’s it..ride that dick like I know you can..fuck that’s it-“ Gojo whines out a breathy moan, hand forcing your head back as he pulled your hair. Your wet cunt spitting out around his thick cock. Loud wet sounds mixed with your moans was music to Gojo’s ears. He was in a bliss. He didn’t care about the cold bathroom floor he sat on while you rode his dick- no he couldn’t give less of a fuck. He didn’t mind the way the tears ran down your face either while you begged..and begged for him to let your hair go.

“Mmpf~ T-Toru..Toru wait-“ You mewl out feeling his thumb press on your lower stomach, you didn’t think he could slip any further into you but he did. “FUCKK!” Your pussy gushes over his thighs, splashing against your stomach but you didn’t stop, no, you rode him the way you would’ve the last time he asked..and the time before that, and many many times before that. Your legs shook, a harsh smack landing on your ass while Gojo became a moaning mess. His eyes rolled as he started to meet your hips halfway, “Don’t stop,” He pants, “don’t fucking stop princess…fuck—- fuck fuck fuck..oh fuck that’s it. Gonna cum so hard baby.”

“Pussy was made for me wasn’t it? My pussy.” He groaned, leaning down to catch your sensitive bud into his mouth. You gasp, slowing down, grinding your hips against his while the cool metal of your piercing collided with Gojo’s tongue piercing. “Tell me it’s mine baby.” His teeth pulled at the bud, earning a slap on the chest from you as you clench around his thick shaft. Your clit throbbed at the feeling of him abusing your nipples. “I..It’s yours—mm, ahh-! It’s yours Toru baby..” You saw white, your breathe trembling as he started to rock you against him. You felt all of him too, he went in raw. “It’s mine?” he groans again, feeling his cock twitch inside of you.

“..y-yes. Oh Toru’ mgonna cum..mgonna cum Toru! Please..please..” oh! he loved every bit of you. he loved hearing you just beg for the long awaited orgasm. He wanted to be your everything, the best dick you’ve gotten, the best orgasm you’ve ever had, better than anyone else, better than Geto. You felt your hands ride up his chest. He pulls back, sticking his tongue out to show off the metal ball on his tongue, a shitty grin on his lips while your hand goes to choke him. You but your lip, eyes staring into his as he lets go of your hair. He sets his hands on your hips instead, giving you another harsh smack. Such a slut.. you moan at the sight. “You want this?” You eggs you on. You nod eagerly. “want it..want it bad Toru..” You bounce with the help of his hands guiding you. His cock feeling deeper than before.

“I hope you’re on the fucking pill then.” He says, pumping another thrust or two before you’re clenching around his cock. You felt the wind leaving your body as you stared into his blue eyes, cumming with a loud cry. His eyes flutter, filling you up as promised. “Take it..fuck take it all princess. That’s it…good fucking girl princess.” You whimper, hand squeezing around his neck while you enjoyed the buzz of your high.

Once you were down enough to move, you wasted no time crawling off his lap. You sat back, closing your legs and shivering at the feeling of his cum running down your pussy. “Show me that pretty pussy princess..” Gojo glacéd at you through hazed eyes, panting softly as he stroked his now soft cock. Shyly you opened your legs…. “Fuck..” he moans, the last bit of cum dripping over his fingers. Your fingers start to rub your sensitive clit, jerking at the sensation. You watch him carefully while he did the same to you, blushing. Your fingers slip into the leaking hole, curling slightly as your back arched. “Shit..” Gojo moans at the sigh, feeling his cock twitch and the start of another round…

Neither of you knew how much time had passed when you bother returned to the still booming party. Gojo’s arm was around you- while you embarrassingly enough let him. You yawn softly, putting your head on his chest when you both finally found Geto with a blunt in his mouth.

“You both owe me.” You glanced at Geto and rolled your eyes.

“What? Owe you for what?” Gojo looks down at you and then back to his best friend. “I bet you’d fuck her tonight and I bet her she wouldn’t be able to stop denying you. I win, pay up.”

2K notes · View notes

wannab3-writer · 6 months ago

Text

Country Club Rivalry

PATRICK ZWEIG X CHILDHOOD FRIEND READER (some Art x reader)

NOTES : GOD, how I tried to make this an Art x Reader because I'm an Art GIRLIE, but Pat just had to come out on top for this one, truly…"

WARNINGS — 18 + content mdni, fem!reader, not proofread

wc: 5.3k

description:

When three friends work at the same country club, things are bound to get messy—especially when they have a bet about who can win over the reader first.

The Oakridge Country Club was bustling with its usual summer energy. Guests lounged by the pool, chatting under the striped umbrellas, while golf carts zipped along the winding paths. The sun blazed overhead, casting sharp shadows on the clay tennis courts where Patrick and Art were finishing their morning lessons.

You stood at the server station near the patio, jotting down drink orders on your notepad. It wasn't your first summer at the country club, but you still enjoyed the easy rhythm of the job—the way the breeze rustled through the trees, the laughter of kids playing by the pool, and the familiar faces of the regulars.

Patrick waved at you from across the tennis courts, his hair tousled from teaching. He was grinning like he always did when he'd just finished a good session. Art stood beside him, spinning his racket in his hand, looking relaxed and effortlessly charming.

"Hey, how's your section?" Patrick called, jogging over with Art trailing behind. He was wearing his usual tennis gear, white shirt, and shorts, with a blue visor to keep the sun out of his eyes.

"Pretty good," you replied, glancing at your notepad. "Mrs. Anderson is on her third mimosa, so I'm expecting a big tip."

Art laughed. "Better watch out, she's got a mean backhand when she's tipsy. I saw her smack a golf ball into the pond last week. Her caddie still hasn't recovered."

Patrick chuckled, shaking his head. "Classic Mrs. Anderson. Did you know she was a tennis champion back in the day? She could probably still give us a run for our money."

Art leaned in, lowering his voice. "Speaking of giving people a run for their money, I heard you've been racking up the tips lately. What's your secret?"

You shrugged with a playful smile. "Just being nice to people, Art. You should try it sometime."

Patrick laughed and nudged Art's shoulder. "Yeah, Art, maybe if you focused less on flirting with every guest and more on your job, you'd make some tips, too."

Art feigned shock. "Me? Flirting? I don't know what you're talking about." He turned to you with a charming grin. "Do you think I'm a flirt?"

You raised an eyebrow. "A little, but that's your thing, right? I mean, it's not like you're betting on who can get the most milfs phone numbers or anything." Clearly sarcastic.

Patrick shot Art a look, then quickly turned to you with a smile. "Yeah, nothing like that. We just... like to keep things interesting."

Art nodded, but you noticed a brief flicker of guilt in his eyes. It was subtle, but it made you wonder if there was more to their competition than met the eye.

"Well, whatever it is, just don't bring any drama into my section, okay?" you said, playfully tapping your notepad against Art's chest. "I've got enough to deal with without you two causing trouble."

Patrick raised his hands in mock surrender. "No drama, I promise. We'll be on our best behavior."

Art winked. "Scout's honor."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile. Despite the teasing and the occasional competitive streak, you knew they meant well. It was just another summer at the country club, where the days were long, the sun was hot, and anything could happen.

Anything.

---

The Club had settled into its evening rhythm by the time you reached the bar. Fairy lights twinkled overhead, casting soft glimmers on the stone patio. The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of blooming jasmine and freshly cut grass. A live band played classic rock covers, the gentle strum of guitars mingling with the murmur of patrons relaxing after a day of golf and tennis.

Patrick was at a corner table, nursing a glass of whiskey on the rocks. He looked up from his phone and waved you over, a broad smile lighting up his face. He'd changed out of his tennis instructor uniform into a casual blue polo and jeans, his hair still damp from a quick shower.

"Hey, there you are!" he said, using his foot to pull out a chair for you. "I was starting to think you forgot about me."

You shook your head with a grin. "Please, I could hear your bad jokes all the way from the kitchen. Had to come and see what was so funny."

Patrick laughed, setting his phone aside. "You know I'm hilarious. You just pretend not to appreciate my sense of humor."

You took a seat and glanced around. The bar was lively but not overcrowded. A group of older couples was playing cards at a nearby table, and a few teenagers from the tennis program were playing darts in the corner. It felt like the perfect end to a busy day.

"So, what are we drinking tonight?" Patrick asked, gesturing to the menu. "I've got whiskey, but I hear the margaritas are pretty good."

You considered for a moment. "Let's go with the margaritas. I need something fruity after today."

Patrick flagged down the bartender, who quickly mixed up a pitcher of margaritas with a generous splash of tequila. He poured you a glass and handed it over with a mock bow. "Your drink, my liege. May it bring you all the fruitiness you desire."

You raised your glass with a chuckle. "Thank you, William,” you turn towards the brunet “To Patrick, who somehow managed not to break any tennis rackets today. It's a new record!"

Patrick clinked his whiskey against your glass. "And to you, for not spilling any drinks on Mrs. Anderson. She's still mad about last summer's 'mimosa incident.'"

You rolled your eyes, remembering the time you accidentally spilled a tray of drinks on Mrs. Anderson's white dress during a particularly hectic brunch. "Don't remind me. I had to run for cover like I was in a war zone. I thought she’d have my head.”

Patrick laughed, the sound warm and familiar. "You should've seen her face. It was like you'd ruined her entire day. But hey, at least you got to keep your job."

As the two of you shared stories and relived old memories, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the patio. The band transitioned to a slower song, adding a mellow vibe to the evening.

Art arrived a little later, his tennis gear replaced by a button-down snap back and jeans. He had a confident stride and a smile that seemed to draw attention wherever he went. He slid into the seat next to you, his presence bringing a shift in the energy at the table.

"What's up, party people?" he said, his voice smooth and inviting. "I hope you saved some margaritas for me."

Patrick handed him a glass. "Of course, wouldn't want our little Arty to feel left out.” He added leaning into Art smirking. “What took you so long anyways, Shelly needed some one-on-one time to work on her underhand? Or what. ”

You smirked. "You really think He’s that charming, huh?” she turns towards Art looking into his eyes “What’s your secret hmm? Is it the cologne?"

Art leaned in with a grin. "It's all about confidence. And maybe a little bit of cologne. But mostly confidence."

Patrick rolled his eyes. "Right, because confidence is what you exude. You should've seen Art on the tennis court today. He was so confident he almost hit a kid with a tennis ball."

Art raised an eyebrow. "Almost. That's the key word. No harm, no foul."

The banter continued, the three of you falling into an easy rhythm. Art's charm contrasted with Patrick's laid-back, cheeky style, and you found yourself enjoying the playful back-and-forth.

As the evening progressed, you noticed Patrick watching Art with a hint of unease. It was subtle, like a flicker in his eyes whenever Art made you laugh a little too hard or leaned in a little too close.

---

"All right, we're here. Try not to break anything, okay? Last time you were here, my mom couldn't find her favorite vase for a week."

Art smirked, stepping inside. "That wasn't my fault! How was I supposed to know it was on top of the fridge? Who puts a vase on the fridge, anyway?"

Art dropped his bag in his Patrick’s room and looked around. The place had an eclectic charm—walls lined with tennis trophies, faded concert posters, and family photos. A stack of video games sat beside the TV.

Patrick led the way into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge. He tossed one to Art, who caught it with ease. "So, what are you in the mood for? I was thinking pizza, but we can order something else if you're not into it."

Art popped open the bear and took a sip. "Pizza sounds good. Just no anchovies, okay? That stuff is nasty."

Patrick laughed, opening his own soda. "You're missing out, man. Anchovies are a delicacy." He grabbed the phone and dialed the pizza place, ordering a large with pepperoni and sausage. "There, something a bit more your speed. Happy now?"

Art nodded, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, that'll work. So, you ready for tomorrow? Two-on-two is serious business. We can't afford to slack off."

Patrick waved a hand dismissively. "Please, I'm always ready. Besides, we've got the advantage. I mean, have you seen the other teams? Half of them can't even hit a backhand."

Art chuckled. "You're so modest, Patrick. What would you do without me to keep you humble?"

Patrick shrugged with a grin. "Probably win more matches.”

Art threw a punch at Patrick's shoulder, and Patrick pretended to wince. They both laughed, the kind of easy camaraderie that came from years of friendship and shared jokes. But there was also a subtle tension in the air, like they were both aware of the unspoken rivalry that had been growing between them.

"So," Patrick said, leaning back against the kitchen island, biting his lip "you and […] seemed pretty chummy tonight. What's the story there? You trying to make a move, or what?" The familiar smirk making its way to his face.

Art raised an eyebrow, his expression guarded. "We're just talking. Nothing wrong with getting to know someone, right?" He finished wetting his lips.

Patrick smirked. "Sure, nothing wrong with that.” He shrugged. “But you're not just getting to know her. You're flirting, and we both know it." He took a couple steps forward “Basically eye fucking her, to be honest” He only smiled.

Art shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Oh, come on Pat, maybe, She's just fun to be around, you know. No need to be gross." Art gave him a wry smile. "You know me. I just go with the flow. If she likes hanging out with me, who am I to complain?"

Patrick leaned in, lowering his voice. "Or maybe, you think she's interested in you. Is that what this is about? You think you've got a shot?" His eyes scanning arts face.

Art met his gaze, his expression calm but with a hint of challenge. "I don't know, man. Maybe I do. What does it matter to you huh? You think you've got the inside track because you've known her longer?"

Patrick grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I mean, it doesn't hurt. We've got a lot of history. I'm charming, good-looking, and I've got the best jokes. What's not to like?" he goes back to lean on the counter. “Besides, I’ve seen the real her, all of it, kinda gives me a little advantage don’t you think.”

Art halts, stops chewing his gum, straitening himself up. “What’s that supposed to mean Patrick.”

“Exactly what it you think.” He kissed his teeth, kicking off the counter and going back to looking inside the fridge.

Art chuckled, but there was a hint of envy in his laugh. "Well, if you're so confident, maybe we should make it interesting. How about a little bet? See who can win her over first?"

Patrick waved his hand dismissively. "Little Arty wants a bet he’ll lose?” He chuckles. “No games. Just a simple bet. May the best man win."

Art held out his hand, and Patrick shook it with a grin. The bet was sealed, but there was an underlying seriousness in Art's eyes. As they waited for the pizza, the two friends continued their banter, but there was a new edge to their jokes—like the stakes had just gotten a little higher.

---

A week after their doubles match, the annual Oakridge Country Club gala was in full swing, the ballroom bustling with elegantly dressed members and guests. The chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting warm light onto the neatly set tables, while smooth jazz played in the background. You stood near the entrance, surveying the glamorous crowd, your fitted dress drawing approving glances from a few partygoers.

Art was the first to spot you, leaning against a wall with a cocktail in hand, chatting up club regulars. He was dressed in a sharp suit, but he carried himself with a boyish charm. His grin was wide as he motioned for you to come over, his eyes moving from your head to your heels in a way that felt like a visual undressing.

"Wow," he said, raising his glass, "you clean up nice. I was expecting you to show up in your waiter outfit or something. I'm glad you went with the dress, though. Much more... appealing."

You gave him a playful smirk, stepping up to the bar. "Thanks, Art. I do my best to impress." You glanced at his drink. "Are you trying to get a head start on the partying? We haven't even hit the dance floor yet."

He took a sip, his gaze lingering on your lips. "Hey, I like to loosen up a bit before the main event. Keeps things interesting. Besides, you can't blame a guy for wanting to enjoy himself, right? You gonna help me enjoy my night and keep me company?"

Patrick, who was laughing with a group nearby, walked over just in time to catch Art’s comment. He gave Art a look of mild disapproval, then turned to you with a sly smile.

"Don't listen to him. He's just trying to get you alone so he can talk your ear off about his latest tennis game.” Patrick shrugged, looking at Art with a smirk. "So boring. I was thinking we could have some real fun; you know? A little adventure never hurt anyone." He leaned closer, his voice barely audible over the music. "Besides, I know all the best spots around here. Private spots. You'd love it."

Art shook his head, clearly not amused. "Come on, Patrick. We're here to enjoy the gala, not to sneak off like we're in high school. Why don't we all just enjoy the party and see what happens?"

Patrick grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Art. But if you change your mind,” he turn towards her. “You know where to find me. I'll be the one having a good time." He turned to you with a suggestive wink while walking backwards to god knows where.

Art rolled his eyes, then smiled at you in a more relaxed manner. "Sorry about him, he’s not really allowed to leave the house. He's a good guy, but he doesn't always know when to tone it down. If you want, I can keep him from getting too out of hand. I wouldn't want him to scare you off." He says mocking Patrick as he walked away.

You laugh full heartedly glancing at Patrick, who was already chatting with a couple of other guests, his flirtatious demeanor on full display. " Thanks so for watching out for me. It can get a little overwhelming with him around." You continued smiling.

Art nodded smiling, his expression kind. " I was thinking we could get some food, maybe hit the dance floor. What do you think?" Art suggested, leading the way. "I'm sure Patrick will join us once he's done charming the entire room."

Patrick shot Art a mischievous look but didn't follow immediately. You could tell he was reveling in the attention, his flirtatious behavior attracting more than a few curious glances from the other guests.

The band switched to a slow, romantic melody, and Art extended his hand to you with a charming smile. "Care to dance?" he asked, his eyes warm and inviting.

You nodded, accepting his offer, and he led you onto the dance floor. His touch was gentle yet confident as he pulled you close, swaying to the music with practiced ease.

As you danced with Art, you felt yourself relaxing into his embrace. His presence was comforting, his movements smooth and graceful. You couldn't help but smile as you looked up at him, feeling a somewhat new sense of closeness.

Halfway through the song, Patrick appeared out of nowhere, a cocky grin on his lips. "Mind if I cut in?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

Before you could respond, he swept you away from Art, taking you into his arms with a boldness that made you some type of way. His touch was hot, his body pressed close to yours as he guided you across the dance floor.

"So, you replacing your best friend with that ginger?" he asked, his voice low and suggestive. "Boring you to tears yet?" He raised a brow.

You laughed, unable to resist his playfulness. "Hmm maybe. He's actually a great dancer, unlike some people."

Patrick smirked, pulling you even closer. "Yeah, but can he do this?" With a sudden flourish, he spun you around, his movements fluid and confident. "Do I need to remind you why I’m better.” He paused.

“How, I’m better.”

You chuckled rolling your eyes, enjoying the thrill of dancing with Patrick. He was unpredictable, to say the least, his smile contagious. But as much as you were drawn to him, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for leaving Art behind.

Patrick reached into his breast pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and offering you one with a sly grin. "Care for a smoke?" he asked, lighting his own with practiced ease.

You just shook your head with hesitant smile. “I really shouldn’t, Pat. You know I’m trying to quit.”

He looks you up and down with a seductive look.

“We’ve all got our guilty pleasures, darling.”

As the song came to an end, Patrick took your hand, leading you away from the dance floor and out onto the club’s private beach. The cool breeze off the ocean felt refreshing against your skin, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore was soothing.

You hesitated for a moment, then accepted the offer, taking the cigarette from him and inhaling deeply. The nicotine hit you like a rush of adrenaline, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration as you exhaled a cloud of smoke into the night air.

"So, what do you think?" Patrick asked, his eyes searching yours. "Having fun yet?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of liberation wash over you. "Yeah, I am. Thanks for... you know, stealing me away." You added motioning to the cigarette.

Patrick grinned, leaning in closer. "Anytime, sweetheart. Just say the word, and I'll whisk you away to paradise."

You laughed, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest.

Patrick decided to sit down in the sand, his cigarette glowing in the darkness as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. You sat beside him, savoring the familiar scent of his cologne.

He took a long drag from his cigarette, then shot you a sidelong glance. "You know, I was just thinking about that first summer at tennis camp," he said, his voice low and playful. "I mean, it's where it all started, right? Just a couple of kids swinging rackets and making trouble."

You smiled at the memory. "Yeah, it's crazy to think about how much has changed since then. Who would've thought you'd actually make it big in tennis? Meanwhile, I could barely keep the ball on the court."

Patrick laughed, a warm, hearty sound that cut through the night air. "Yeah, well, I guess I had a little more motivation to stick with it. You were off climbing trees and playing in the woods, and I was stuck with a bunch of coaches yelling at me to hit harder."

"Hey," you replied with a smirk, "it's not like I was useless. I remember showing you all the best spots to hide when you wanted to skip practice."

Patrick nodded, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I remember. You were the queen of avoiding responsibility. If it weren't for you, I'd probably have become a strait-laced tennis prodigy. Instead, you dragged me into the wilderness to make forts and find weird bugs."

You both chuckled, reminiscing about those lazy summer days when tennis camp was more of a suggestion than a requirement. But then Patrick's expression turned sly, and he leaned in a bit closer.

"Speaking of weird things from our past," he said, his voice dripping with playful insinuation, he nudged you. "You remember that bet we made? The one about if we were both green by the time you turned 16, we'd, you know, be each other's first?"

Your face grew warm at the memory. It had been a silly bet between two best friends who figured they'd never find anyone else in their small circle. But the fact that you followed through with it made it more than just a joke.

"Yeah," you replied, pretending to be nonchalant, "I remember, Pat we’re not that old. It was a dumb bet, but I guess we kept our word, didn't we?"

Patrick nodded, a cheeky grin spreading across his lips. "We sure did. And you know, I wasn't expecting it to be so... memorable. I thought we'd just laugh about it later, but it was kind of nice. You know, like a rite of passage or something."

You laughed, trying to deflect his innuendo. "A rite of passage? Yeah, right. More like a hilarious disaster. I mean, you had no idea what you were doing."

Patrick raised an eyebrow, his grin growing wider. "Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad. Besides, you were just as clueless. At least I managed to keep my cool, mostly."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help but smile at his cockiness. "Mostly, huh? If I remember correctly, you tripped over your own shoes and nearly fell face first."

Patrick groaned, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Okay, maybe I was a little clumsy. But you have to admit, it was an experience neither of us will forget. And hey, we did it together. That's gotta count for something, right?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of nostalgia and fondness. "Yeah, it does. I'm just glad it didn't ruin our friendship. It could've been awkward, but it wasn't."

Patrick leaned in, his gaze locking with yours. "Of course it wasn't. We were best friends. We still are. And besides, even if it was a bit awkward, it was worth it. You know, just to say we did it." He flicked the ash from his cigarette, then added with a wink, "And hey, I was your first. That's something not everyone can say."

You laughed, pushing him lightly on the shoulder. "Yeah, well, don't let it go to your head. You still have a long way to go before you become a pro. But if you need any advice on how to avoid tripping over your own shoes, I'm here for you."

Patrick grinned, taking a final drag from his cigarette before tossing it into the sand. " If you ever want to make another bet, I'm always up for it. " He Looks at you seductively, his eyes full of mischief. " I think if you were to give me another chance, you’d find that I’ve improved quite a bit. " He gives you his signature smirk.

You scan his face trying to find sincerity in his words, not sure how you’d feel if he was. “What are you trying to get at Patrick?”

“Nothing at all.” He raised his hands in a surrender, cigarette in mouth looking away. “I’m just saying, I feel like I deserve a redemption arc,” He takes his cigarette putting out in the sand. “I wasn’t the most…giving you can say.” He looks back at you, under his brows. “And I just want to show you that I’ve changed, for the better.” He offers a smile.

You just nod your head in fake agreement. “Uhh, how much have you had to drink tonight pat? Is it time to call you a cab?” You questioned with a week smile.

“Oh, shut up, I’m dead sober.” He said leaning in. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Besides, what's life without a little adventure?"

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his touch. It was a simple gesture, but there was something in the way he did it that made your heart skip a beat. Patrick had always had a way of pushing boundaries, but tonight, he seemed more deliberate, more intent.

"Adventure?" you replied, your voice slightly breathless. "Are you planning something?"

Patrick's smile grew, his eyes locking with yours. "Maybe. But you know me—always full of surprises." He stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on your waist. "But I promise, it'll be a good one."

You felt a rush of heat at his touch, the closeness between you stirring something deep within. Patrick leaned in, his lips just inches from yours. "So, do you trust me?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "No I don’t, Patrick, because I know you. Why? What are you up to?"

Patrick's gaze grew more intense, his eyes fixed on yours. "I just wanted to try something." He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through you.

The kiss deepened, the heat between you building as Patrick pulled you closer. His hand slid around your waist, holding you firmly as he kissed you with a newfound intensity. The sound of the waves seemed to fade away, replaced by the pounding of your own heart.

Patrick's other hand cupped your cheek, his touch gentle yet assertive. His kiss was slow and deliberate, each movement a carefully orchestrated dance that left you breathless. As his lips moved against yours, you felt a rush of desire, a connection that seemed to transcend words.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with emotion. He looked at you, his lips slightly parted, as if he was trying to read your thoughts.

“Show me.” You said looking him deep in his eyes barley a millimetre away from his lips.

“Show you what darling?” He question with a smile gracing his lips

“How you’re better than Art.”

That’s not what he was expecting at all. Maybe a ‘show me how you’ve improved.’ But certainly not you using his own words against him, That’s for sure.

That didn’t stop Patrick's smile from getting bigger though, as he moved his hands all over you, bringing you in for another wet and sloppy kiss. He slowly laid you down into the sand using his teeth to slide up your dress around your waits.

He slowly kissed your stomach stopping at the hem of your thong. Moving it to the side, he slides one of his digits up and down your slit.

Looking up to you with a sly smile, he lets out a contented sigh. " Give me some of this sweet pussy." With the excited flattening of his tongue, he dives right in, right there, on the beach. Before you even having a chance to fully lay down, Patrick slides his arms beneath your legs and pulls you in.

As you begin to grind into him and yearn for more of his tongue, you play with one of your tits. Suddenly too shy to look him in the eye, you reach down and tug on his hair. You can feel your cheeks getting hot with shame at how quickly you folded for him. “Tongue fuck me, please, Pat. When did you get so good at this?”

he consumes you. his hands are playing with your ass and thighs. He kneads the skin and spreading you out. He trust his tongue into your entrance and explores your pussy. Less than a minute later, your walls start to twitch around his tongue. He takes in all your cum. When he looks up back at you, he just gives you a sly smirk.

Patrick rolled onto his back beside you, his chest heaving slightly from the intensity of what just happened. You try to get your breathing back to normal when suddenly you let out a random laugh.

Patrick turned his head, raising an eyebrow. "What's so funny?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, but his face still wet from your essence.

You shrugged, trying to stifle your laughter. "I don't know, it just hit me—how did we end up here? One minute we're at the gala, and the next we're... well, doing this." You gestured at the beach, and your unruly appearance.

Patrick grinned, rolling onto his side to face you. "Maybe it's fate," he said, his voice soft and playful. "Or maybe it's just because I couldn't resist pulling you away for a little... private time." He winked, his cheeky grin only growing wider.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through your chest. "Or maybe it’s because you and Art have a weird little bet going on, and for some reason, I’m in the middle of it." you replied, a teasing edge to your tone.

Patrick frowns sitting up to look at you properly. " You know about that?" He’s confused.

You let out a chuckle. "Patrick, I’m not a dumbass, like i said, i know you. And i know Art, you guys have been total try hards for the last week, sure, you’re just a whore and will flirt with anything that has a vagina, but even Art was over doing it." You swatted at his shoulder, trying to hide your smile. "Patrick, seriously," you said, though your tone lacked any real reprimand. "You always push your luck, you know that? You leaned in a little closer, your eyes locking with his.

Patrick's grin softened, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Yeah, well, sometimes you need a little excitement," he replied, his hand resting on your hip, a gentle reminder of his presence. "And you can't deny that you like it when I take charge. Right?" His fingers traced a light pattern along your hipbone, his touch both playful and suggestive.

You sighed, the subtle tension between you becoming more palpable. "Maybe," you replied, your voice low and teasing. "But don't think I'll always let you get away with it. Sometimes, you need to earn it."

Patrick laughed, a deep, rich sound that seemed to carry on the breeze. "Oh, don't worry," he said, his eyes narrowing with that familiar mischievous look. "I'll work for it. You just let me know when you want me to turn on the charm." He leaned in again, his lips hovering near yours, the warmth of his breath a tantalizing invitation.

You closed the gap, letting his lips meet yours in a brief, soft kiss. It was playful but laced with an underlying intensity, a promise of more to come. When you pulled back, you saw the surprise in his eyes, followed by that trademark grin.

"Consider it a preview," you said, giving him a gentle nudge. "But don't get too cocky, or I’ll make sure you lose this bet."

------------------------

Thank you for reading! Please leave comments, likes, and reblogs; all are appreciated! Also, feel free to send requests!

#art donaldson fic #patrick zweig fic #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #challengers fic #mike faist x reader #challengers #art donaldson x reader #josh o'connor #josh o'connor fic #x reader #wannab3-writer

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gangplanksorenji · 10 months ago

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Kinknuary Day 5: Degradation

Pairing: IVE Ahn Yujin x Male Reader

Word Count: 4,681

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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“That looks awful, Yujin.”

“Come on, daddy, you’ll like this!”

Well, the blending of her outfit composes an unorthodox harmony which makes you detest it but the beauty behind what lies within is the most important aspect—Yujin herself can pull off any style, even if it means for you to not like it. Yujin, a glamorous girl, never fails to look close to a goddess at any time possible, even when she’s totally sullied, she’s still the most gorgeous girl you’ve laid your eyes upon.

Even such harsh criticisms about her are meaningless, faulty and full of bullshit—she’s close to perfection yet you can’t really comprehend the beauty of her outfit right now and it’s really bothering you.

“It’s really weird, Yujin—no matter how much I gaslight myself to think your outfit’s good, it’s really not there—”

“Maybe, but it’s your own opinion! My stylist really approved of this style!”

Sometimes, Yujin’s optimism is off the charts and it’s getting kind of on the verge of craziness, in a good way. Such uplifting energy being emanated by her is contagious and you love it, no wonder why the rest of members feel cheerful whenever she’s there as it’s evident. Not to mention, the days where you almost lost everything, Yujin was there to fuel your happiness and to cheer you up and you’re just grateful to see such a kind soul in Yujin’s heart.

Well, well, back to where we were…

“Whatever, you still look beautiful, anyways…” You pull her wrists towards you, initiating into a torrid kiss in which she was caught off-guard, yelping and humming as the kiss was making her heart melt.

“Yah—daddy, someone may see us, let’s go in. Don’t want my daddy to get caught by those paparazzis…”

“You’re so sweet, Yujin—I don’t want that to happen to you either.”

With the fear of getting caught by those possible eavesdropping people, you let her into your humble home as the best of all things were just going to start.

---

“You wanted this all along, huh, Yujin?”

“I’ve planned this all out, daddy, isn’t it obvious?”

Bet it is like that. It wasn’t even a sweat finding it to be too conspicuous as visiting you means three things for Yujin: one, is that she misses you a lot that she couldn’t contain it anymore and wants your affection; two, she wants to talk about something that means a lot to her or, that piqued her interest truly and; three, she’s here for a quick fuck for her daddy.

All options were optimal and understandable and probably, all of the reasons were checked out on why she is here, at your place, with the most ruinable outfit imaginable.

“Yeah, no shit, Yujin—” You pin her down the wall, as you mutter a hot breath that sends down tingles up her spine as an admiration of her faultless beauty and then a faint snarl as you glare at her and continued, “—I bet your slutty pussy won’t even make a day without my cock plunged into it, isn’t it?”

That alone arouses her into oblivion, whining in response as you mark her neck softly, nibbling onto the porcelain skin with aims to let Yujin know where she belongs only, and that’s you. Struggling because of her sudden sensitivity with your touch, she lets out a series of moans in which you love but at the same time, your patience is running out quickly as you will soon be enraged with it.

“Answer me, Yujin—”

“Y-yes, daddy—I’m just s-so horny right now that even with o-our photoshoot earlier, I can’t think of anything besides only you, daddy…”

That thought prints a smile on your face as you were flustered about Yujin clouding her mind with you only, yet, it doesn’t stop there as this was just some obvious foreplay as the test was about to begin pretty soon.

“You’re cute when you’re needy, Yujnnie, but I want to ask you something.”

Yujin’s eyes lit up in anticipation and excitement as your words set the switch of her submissive and needy demeanor—by all means, she’s willing to take and answer whatever question you will utter, no matter what the consequences may be.

“What is it, daddy?”

You sit on the bed, facing up the ceiling and then letting out a sigh as worry paints her face, scared of what may trigger your possible disappointment even though they weren't any cause. “I’m not easily convinced if you really deserve to get fucked silly—you need to earn it first and will you do that for me, Yujin?”

Your stern look forces an immediate answer escaping her lips, willing to do anything that will make your life full of heaven and delight. It is true, you need to test her capabilities first and earn her desired grand prize—hard work pays off in the end, and you’ll let her know that. Spreading your legs for some clarity or rather, a hint of what she’s about to be tackling, she immediately knows what you want her to do as her clever mind never fails to make you smile. Falling down to her knees, lined up in level with your crotch, she makes the most endearing look towards you, her puppy-eyes flattering as she feels excited about what she’s about to do to you.

“Undress me, make it quick.”

“Yes, daddy.”

She is told what she’s told and immediately, she fulfills your command, quickly undressing each piece of your clothing as she starts unbuckling your belt, her fingers shaking a little bit for unknown reasons. You don’t know if it’s because of the nervousness injected right from the start, her lack of experience in which you doubt or something else that you don’t know—you didn’t care about it as she continues what she’s doing with no more interrogation. With her current sluggish pace of stripping your bottom half, you called her out and scolded her a little so that she can up the ante and to not disappoint you. She took this as a hit of a stride, further doing what she’s been told to as the cold air meets your skin, feeling your last bits of defense falling down to the floor, deeming useless. Well, it seemed like she succeeded on her first task as with the last bit of your iron wall protecting the beast within getting removed, you let out a sigh as Yujin was met with your already-erecting member, her eyes in awe and pupils dilating as she admires the beauty of it, inch by inch.

“Daddy’s getting hard, oh god—it’s so perfect.”

“Then do something about it—” You lift Yujin’s chin with your fingers, then glaring at her, voicing an intimate need that should be fulfilled by her and it’s a must. “—don’t you dare disappoint me, Yujin.”

Of course she won’t try to because the consequences are unbearable at her end. With your already erected end, she didn’t faze herself to ask what to do and immediately obliged to pleasure you. She looks in awe with your throbbing cock as she places her finger at the base of it, massaging it slowly and stroking it with fervor. It was sluggish and pleasurable but you didn’t want that, so glared at her as she was confused right after, scared that she may have provoked something that you didn’t want—it’s about time for her to know about that.

It’s not too long for her to know what you want as she slowly parts her mouth in contact with your mushroom-shaped tip, swirling her tongue around the slit and then parting kisses in admiration of it. She continued with this as you suppress your moans, trying to silence yourself despite the intense pleasure she’s been putting you into. She didn’t up the pace and continued to suck you off with only half of your length in her tight mouth, growing the pleasure as she alternates it between strokes and suctions. You grew impatient with her sluggish endeavors as you slowly formed a tight grip on her head, forcing her down to take your whole length as her nose became buried down your abdomen. It caught her off-guard as constantly gagged on your whole length, tears seeping out of her eyes and then running out her cheek and when you’re satisfied, to let go of your grip as she ejects herself out immediately, gasping for air as her ruined visage is such a sight to treasure.

“W-what the—hah—f-fuck was that, daddy?”

“You’re complaining, Yujin?” You’re in disbelief as she tried to question you and immediately, she knew that wasn’t the right move. She liked your harshness but the shock is inevitable and you didn’t care about that.

“N-no, daddy…”

“Good—you fucking know I like it sloppy, what are you waiting for?” Your commanding tone forces Yujin to do what is asked as she parts her soft, luscious lips onto your tip again and immediately starts to suck you off with renewed fervor and determination, aiming to impress you truly with just her mouth. Inevitably, saliva seeps out of her mouth as your whole length is sheathed with it, with some dripping onto your balls. The pace was ridiculous as her gags were also constant too, bawling her mouth in every thrust she does of her mouth as more tears run down her cheek because of her own masterpiece. It may be a masterpiece for the others, but not for you as she lacks a lot of principles of a great, sloppy blowjob.

“Have you really forgotten what I taught you, Yujin?” Your words didn’t break what she’s best at, unfazed with your remarks as she continues to blow you as fast and as sloppy as she can. “I’m really not having this one, Yujin—again, you don’t want me to be disappointed.” She ups her pace, regardless on how much she gawks and gags as she does the best that she can, blowing you like no one truly could as her face gets sullied, her hair disheveled and her saliva creating an awful mess on her beautiful face and onto the vicinity of your raging length.

“Do I need to repeat myself? You're a pathetic slut—do I need to teach you something again? I might get to call Wonyoung to teach you about the basics, no?”

Having enough of your degrading antics, she pulls herself out of your length, catching a breath and asking a point to you. “Daddy, what do I e-even need to—gluck—mmfh!”

“Even forgot to fondle my balls and stare at my eyes—you’re better than this, Yujin, come on now…”

With such elements being unattended, worry expresses her face as she seemed to forget such simple things on a spectacular blowjob as with no time to waste, her dainty hands averted your attention towards you sensitive balls, rather than gripping your thighs harshly as a leverage to the pace she ensued with. It alternates and it’s better—those orbs shining with lust everytime she thrusts her mouth onto your cock is such the cherry on top as eventually, she maintains eye contact with you despite the current struggles she’s experiencing. It was better than what she'd done earlier and you’re satisfied with it but you mask your satisfaction with a stern look, prompting Yujin to up the challenge more. With an incredible task she’s been doing, you can’t help but let out faint moans and expectedly, the familiar knot in your loins, signaling your near release. Yujin noticed this, as the persistent throbs of your cock onto her mouth makes it evident and took this as an opportunity to milk such a healthy load from you. You knew this, she wants from you as you stop her advances, not wanting to paint her throat with her load as you have more plans with her and the both of you were just starting.

“You fucking greedy slut—trying to milk a damn load, huh?” You let her go as she immediately pulls out of your succulent meat, gasping for air as she frowned in disbelief, wanting your load to be tasted by hers as she didn’t approve of your commands but there’s nothing she can do with it as you have the higher authority, the omnipotent one.

“I c-can’t help it—I want i-it so b-bad, daddy—”

“You won’t have it because girls like you don’t really deserve it up in their throat…” You rose up from your relaxed position, approaching her as you stared at her eyes with such suspenseful intent. “They deserved it inside this tight, little cunt, do you understand?”

Yujin nods frantically with her eyes uneasy, fear emanating down every emotional chemical running up her body as she doesn’t know what to feel after her oral service. Nonetheless, she did a nice job but you want to let her know something that may snap her back to reality.

“B-but did I do good, daddy?”

You sigh, facing her, then looking back at her muttering, “I’m such a hypocrite if I lie yet there will be room for improvements, Yujin.” You sat back down to the bed, shooting up a stern look on your face as you commanded her to strip. It wouldn’t fall deaf onto her ears as she slowly get to work, undressing that stupid jacket off as the long-sleeve followed right after, the hypnotic sense of the show making the atmosphere even hotter as every clothing that gets off is a wondrous sight, and it’s much better because of that dreadful outfit becoming useless and stripped away. She seduces you like a vixen, her eyes constantly attracting you and her smirks letting you know how much she’s enjoying this. You’re just on that emotionless and serious demeanor, unfazed with her unparalleled hotness as with the last bits of clothing getting removed, you can’t help but be aroused with the sight of a god-like body. You weren’t immobilized either, as you stripped off the rest of your clothing while eyeing and admiring her scrumptious figure.

“You liked this, daddy?”

“Of course—who can possibly detest and reject such a five-course meal in front of them, hm?”

She doesn’t need any questions about that, because every inch of her is perfection at its finest and meal to be savored and devoured whenever possible. You’ll never get tired of the taste of her sweet nectar and the delicious skin as every inch of her should be praised yet this is not where you should bless her with praises—you’re here to test her and conclude on your judgment.

“Thank god you got rid of that awful outfit. It’s mildly concerning how bad it is.”

“Yah, daddy—it wasn’t even that bad!”

“Shut your mouth, Yujin! You don’t get to talk back until I say so, do you understand?”

Surprisingly, she obeyed your command, nodding slowly as she didn't talk back further, her eyebrows furrowed right after, full of fear and anticipation.

“Now turn around and bend over the bed, hand behind your back and with your foot still stepping on the floor, alright?”

Another nod ensues as she immediately bent her figure over the bed, her ass high up in the air. You take some moment to admire her backside, her thick thighs and it’s plump, spankable butt that’s all offered just for you. The black thong she’s currently wearing was such an arousing sight that it got your cock twitching constantly. You then gave her ass a harsh spank that reverberated around the room, the jiggle after the slap becoming the cherry on top as it hypnotized you but nonetheless, you didn’t give in and fought the urge. Yujin always moans heavenly and blesses your ears in each spank you do as it fuels you to tease her even more and you absolutely love it.

“You’re kinky, huh? Imagine doing a photoshoot having a buttplug up in your ass—you’re really a desperate slut, Yujin.”

“I can’t help it, da—”

You spank her hard again, in distraught as she breaks the golden rule and immediately, she let out a cry from the harshness of your actions.

“What did I fucking say? You don’t get to talk until I say so, right?” You retorted towards Yujin, gritting your teeth with a hint of anger being felt as you were getting disappointed with her disobedient remarks.

“Y-yes, daddy—I’m sorry—”

“No need to be sorry, Yujin—” You spank her as she let out another cry, feeling the intense sensitivity coursing down her veins as you hitch a breath onto her ear and whispered, “—you get to talk with this pussy. Take me well and you’ll be rewarded, do you understand?”

She frantically nods again as her thighs quiver in sensitivity, feeling the utmost pleasure as she’s now in a very defenseless state, prone with your attacks as she can’t do anything but enjoy with your masterclass. You smile with the fact that Yujin is powerless against what you could do to her, feeling the utmost delight inside but you still emanate an intimidating demeanor, scaring her still. With your still fully-erected member, you tease your tip onto her labia, making her moan constantly as sweat now forms down her back, feeling the hot air permeating all over her porcelain skin.

“Imagine moaning this much with even just the tip teasing you—you’re such a desperate one—a pathetic slut, Yujin, that’s what you are…”

“I a-am a pathetic slut, daddy—ahh, fuck!”

Another harsh spank was drawn with your hands as the reddish sting is imprinted onto her butt, letting her know that the way she contravened you again was not the play. You chuckled upon the helpless predicament she’s in, feeling the utmost authority as you draw your finger up to her dripping core up to her puckered hole, teasing her repeatedly as she moans in pleasure driven by your dexterity.

“One more and you’ll see, Yujin—you’re such a worthless fucktoy for me to use, don’t you? You even struggled to take me in your mouth, what more into this tight, little cunt?” She lets out ragged breaths once you insert a finger up in her pussy, deeming it as her kryptonite as she almost fell down to her knees due to the intense pleasure and sensitivity she’s experiencing.

“See? Even with just my fingers, you look like a helpless, little slut that lives only for my cock—I bet you won’t even last long with my cock buried balls-deep inside your pussy—hah…”

You continue pleasuring her with your fingers as she didn’t even care to suppress her moans, giving it absolutely everything to arouse you further. You then continue the pace of your fingers as you tip teases her puckered hole, letting out a series of cries from her on par with her angelic moans and the whispered into her ear, “Do you want daddy to fuck you real silly, hm?”

Yujin took seconds to respond, as the intense serotonin she’s experiencing was too much to handle as she nodded instantly and pleaded, “P-please, daddy—I need y-your cock—gahh—i-in my slutty pussy. Fill me u-up and show y-your slut who she be—ahh—longs too…”

You plant another grin as she’s right, you’ll absolutely oblige to that even though she knows where she only belongs to. With a couple more flicks of your fingers inside her pussy, you became contented on what you’re about to do to her as you let her have her desired prize—not really a prize, but rather proving something to her as she let out a muffled scream (it was subtly silenced thanks to your hands) from the warmness of your cock plunging right into her tight heat. Whenever she moans, it really gets you to up the pace immediately as it’s like a curse to lure into your deepest, carnal desires but you fight it, wanting to savor the tightness of her walls and to prove a point to her.

“Look at you, Yujin—look at how pathetic you look right now. My cock is barely even in and you’re this sensitive and weak? I knew better, Yujin—now take it whole, you slut.”

You immediately bury your entire length inside her tight walls as you feel it clench, the both of you then exchanging moans with Yujin letting out the most broken and sensual ones. You could feel her wetness enveloping your member, almost suffocating it as she’s incredibly tight—she was always tight and you love it truly and you’re so thankfully that only you will get to feel her, nobody else. With a newly profound arousal, you noticed how much Yujin is getting turned on with your degradations towards her as you noted it, wanting to show more of what you bring to the table. You then start to thrust with such a moderate pace as you harshly grip the side of her hips, hard enough to leave print but not bruises—maybe it can because of how you're holding it for dear life.

Of course, such spanking didn’t get forgotten here as every thrust or two you do, a harsh spank comes right after, resulting in a silent cry escaping her lips, voicing out her pleasure. With all of the perfection your eyes lay upon, such faulty inevitabilities are on the path, and you’re ready to voice it out.

“God, if you didn’t cut you hair short, I could have gone and pulled your hair while fucking you from behind.”

Yujin answers back, her voice still trembling from your pace and the pleasure running through her, “I w-wanted this, daddy—I thought y-you—gahh—would li-like me experimenting o-on things?”

“Yeah, I know but it’s alright, at least I get to spank you real good.”

You spank her again while maintaining a newly profound ruthless pace, now her bubble butt becoming imprinted with red marks because of your harshness and you smile just with the sight of it. With now your cock constantly ramming her pussy like it’s your last, her moans orchestrate music in your ears as screams come right after. You noticed how much your raging length makes her enervated as you can her legs partly giving out from the repeated onslaught of harsh thrusts in aims for your pleasure and not her—but still, she’s taking advantage of this as even thought you didn’t mind giving her the utmost pleasure, it’s inevitable considering how she’s having a good time and the constant clenching of her wet walls around your cock. It wasn’t anything new and still, it’s arousing as fuck—Yujin saccharine yet deep voice when moaning is such a blessing and disguise, and it’s hypocritical if you say that it doesn’t put gasoline onto the flames of peak arousal (of course you won’t because it’s always an eargasm hearing her soft, deep moans of need).

Such cruelty is ensued with your hips, and Yujin replies with such profanities escaping her mouth, voicing her satisfaction and the pleasure that she’s cherishing—and not so long after, she’s about to be gifted with such a blessing only her daddy can give, no one else can. Within your rapid thrusts and the harsh grips and spanks you’re giving her, you noticed something that was bound to happen, smirking in delight at the fact that it signals the fact that she’s loving your rough treatment despite the possible struggle she’s up into.

“What’s this, Yujin—already cumming onto my cock? Do you even deserve to do that when you could barely take me like a good girl?”

It is true—your whole length stretches her out so well that she couldn’t comprehend to think about taking you in like a champ but rather, fully give in and voice her satisfaction like she’s losing her sanity.

“I’m s-sorry—gahh—daddy—ofh fuck, y-you’re just too b-big—gah!”

She’s not sorry for that but rather didn’t mind it as you continue fucking her senseless. Yujin inevitably spreads her slowly in order for you to fuck her deeper and greater as it’s rewarding, fiding such intense pleasure and new depths that makes her cry in such intense pleasure, unable to take everything as it’s too much on what she wanted but loved this right away. Within your intense pace, you can’t just become a robotic entity programmed to just fuck her until she gives out, so you grabbed onto her small, perky mounds and kissed her nape while doing it, further letting her know the affection you’re giving to her as she moans in response, feeling too grateful to your enamored actions. You pinch the taut bud and massage those pillowy mounds as the heavenly tightness of her pussy sends you into overdrive—becoming too overstimulated as the pleasure you’re experiencing is now off the roof as it’s the same with her, the juices of her cunt forming a rivulet dripping down to your balls and onto the floor is a sign that the both of you are just too lost on the pleasure. Kissing her neck repeatedly and sucking onto the porcelain skin, you know you weren’t far off to reach your peak as you continue fuck her mercilessly, chasing your orgasm.

Such profanities and lust are now the paramount feeling coursing to your veins, so you voice your near-ending and your approaching euphoric disposition as you whisper on her ear, “I’m going to fucking cum inside you, Yujin and you better take it like a good girl, you pathetic slut!”

Now giving her pussy the last thrusts in concern for you pleasure, you flood her ears with moans as she took advantage of your pace and came again onto your cock, streams and streams of her nectar streaming down her thighs, your balls, onto the bed sheets and some onto the floor, staining it. You didn’t mind the sneaky orgasm she was in as you licked down the sweat that profusely formed onto her back, tasting the salty skin and for further arousal to chase your long-awaited orgasm.

Within your last rams, you groan as the pleasure coursed down you’re veins and the inevitable snaps, burying your whole length and filling Yujin up to the hilt as you shoot thick shots of semen deep inside her, painting her walls white as she lets out series of lustful moans because of the euphoric state that she’s in. You continue thrusting into her, further fucking your seed inside her and riding out your orgasm and once it subsided, you slowly pulled out to her, admiring the mess you’ve make inside her with some of it dripping out of her heated core, running down her thighs. You caressed her butt as you admired the sullied sight of Yujin, full of delight and satisfaction as you finally gave her what she wanted but to come up and conclude your judgment, you wanted to make one more thing as a final remark.

“Get up, go on your knees and clean up my cock, Yujin.”

Even with her wobbly legs almost giving out, she didn’t hesitate to oblige, further servicing you with another oral assault as a conclusion on this steamy session. She plants her soft, luscious lips onto your lips and sucked the remnants of your seed and her nectar, cleaning up the mess the both of you made. She hummed in satisfaction as she finally tasted hints of your semen after being deprived for a month without it. After series of licks and swirls of her tongue onto your throbbing length, you let series of weak moans due to your sensitivity as she’s now done with her concluding masterpiece—your cock crystal-clear clean as you help her to get up, and then muttering up a proposition that she won’t deny.

“Want to clean up, Yujin?”

“B-but I want you up in my a-ass, daddy—want to g-get all my holes filled…”

You glared at Yujin, and then let out a chuckle from her needs, “Come on, you can’t even take me that good up your tight cunt, moreso on your ass? Don’t worry though—” You planted a kiss on her lips as you reassure her, “We’re just getting started, there’s more to do later so you better be prepared…”

And god, this will be one hell of another night, again…

#kinknuary 2024 #ive smut #ahn yujin smut #yujin smut #ive x male reader #ahn yujin x male reader #yujin x male reader

974 notes · View notes

pinkslipxox · 4 days ago

Text

Not Ready:

Summary: A conversation with your friends makes you worried about a touchy subject and Billie comforts you

Warnings: fluff, angsty-ish(?), mentions of smut 🥰

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The Californian sun shines brightly over the open-air mall located at the heart of Los Angeles. You are sitting with your friends at a café enjoying a latte, listening to a story that one of your friends is telling when in the midst of the conversation, your phone chimes. A smile instantly spreads on your face when you see that it is a text from your girlfriend, Billie.

‘Hey, pretty girl! Just checking up on you. I hope you’re having a good time with your friends. Can’t wait to see you soon,’ the text reads followed by a few heart emojis.

You quickly type: ‘Hi, babes! I am, thank you. See you when I get home’.

“Who’s making you smile like that, Y/N?” one of your friends tease in a sing-song voice.

“Billie,” you admit with a sheepish chuckle as you put away your phone. Your friends giggle, sending knowing looks to each other.

“How are things going between you two?” the other muses, her eyes glowing with delight.

“Things are going so well! She treats me like a princess… and we love each other so much,” you gush, your cheeks warming up as your friends giggle and ‘aww’ like schoolgirls.

Despite inviting Billie to your outing, she had insisted that you and your friends had fun by yourselves. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that you’re missing your girlfriend. In the time that you two have been together, you’ve built quite a strong bond. And you couldn’t be happier.

“I bet you two can barely keep your hands off each other,” your friend smirks as your other friend wags her eyebrows playfully.

“Tell us eveything!” your other friend insists with a giddy smile.

You had a feeling this topic would be brought up. In the beginning of your relationship, you voiced your desire to save intimacy until further along in your relationship, wanting to take things slow. Billie has been nothing but patient and understanding, and while you know that she’s willing to wait for as long as you need to, you know that you can’t just make her wait forever.

“There isn’t that much to say,” you force a chuckle, shifting awkwardly in your chair. “Billie and I… we haven’t… y-y know…”

“No way! Really?” your first friend gasps, her eyes wide with shock.

“What are you two waiting for, Y/N?” the other interjects.

“We’re just taking it slow. And she’s been very respectful,” you defend, sipping your latte to fortify yourself.

Your first friend huffs. “But you two have been together for almost a year now! Billie’s probably loosing her patience.”

“It’s just sex, Y/N. Not rocket science,” your other friend adds with a chuckle although it comes out more like a scoff.

You quickly change the conversation, not wanting to feel even more embarrassed that you already are. Instead of listening to your friends talk, all you can hear are their words echoing in your ears. The more you resonate on their words, the more you realize that your friends are probably right about how Billie must be feeling. Your last relationship ended for the exact same reason, but Billie is not at all like your ex. She wouldn’t break up with you over something like this… would she?

“I have to go,” you say quickly and leave before any of your friends can say anything.

The drive home is quicker than you except it to be. It hardly gave you enough time to decide what you were going to do when you saw Billie. But the moment you see her at the entrance, smiling at you, you make up your mind.

“Welcome home, mama!” Billie exclaims happily as she makes her way over to you with her arms stretched out. She hugs you tightly, pepping kisses to your cheek.

“Thank you, Bills,” you say softly, and you swear that if she listened closer, she could hear your heart beating out of your chest.

“Let me help you with those,” Billie insists as she takes your bags from your hands. “What did you get? Anything cute?”

“Just some jeans and a new pair of shoes,” you murmur as you follow her into your shared bedroom. You glance at the bed, biting your lower lip, and all of the sudden it looks much more intimidating. And you find yourself asking if the bed has always taken up so much space.

“How are your friends?” Billie asks sweetly and your heart twists at the mention of them.

“They’re fine,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, forcing a smile. Of course, Billie sees right through it. She puts the bags down and makes her away over to you, her hands resting on your hips, pulling you closer. Her ocean blue eyes look at you with concern.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? You—“

You cut Billie off by pressing your lips on hers, passionately, and for a moment Billie is frozen before she instantly kisses you back. Her grip on you tightens, her warm tongue massaging deliciously with yours, and you can’t help but moan into her mouth. You feel her smirk against your lips, and it gives you the confidence you need to trail your lips along her jawline and down her neck, making her gasp.

“God, Y/N,” Billie murmurs huskily, her voice low and rough, as she tilts her head up to give you more access. You suck gently on her sensitive, just the way she sometimes does to you, and the sound of your name being moaned reassures you that you’re doing something right.

Billie draws your mouth back to hers, the kiss more urgent, almost desperate than the one before. Your pulse quickens at the thought of the next step that needs to happen, and with that, you guide Billie to the bed. A soft moan escapes your girlfriend’s lips as she falls back gently on the bed. You straddle her, your heart beating against your chest, your mind scrambling to figure out what to do next. Then, as if to read your mind, Billie flips the two of you over.

“You’re so beautiful,” Billie whispers, gripping your chin lightly, and you notice that her eyes have darkened yet the usual softness is still visible in them, comforting you a bit.

“I love you, Billie,” you say softly, and Billie’s lips spread into a smile.

“I love you, too, Y/N,” she replies sincerely before brushing her lips against yours.

Then, to your great surprise, Billie gets off you.

“W-what’s wrong? You’re not going to make love to me?” you panic and Billie kisses your forehead, letting her lips linger there before pressing her forehead gently against yours.

“Not tonight, sweet girl,” Billie murmurs softly and your heart sinks.

“Why? Don’t you want me?” Your voice is barely above a whisper and for a moment you don’t recognize it. With a soft sigh, Billie pulls you to her lap, her arms wrapped around you tightly.

“Of course I do, Y/N. But I can tell that you’re not ready for this yet. I want this to be memorable for you. For us. And I love and respect you too much to do this when you’re not one hundred percent sure about it,” Billie says, her voice soft but firm.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whimper as tears slowly begin to roll down your face. You’re embarrassed. And yet at the same time relieved. Deep down, you know you aren’t ready. Not anytime soon.

“You want to tell me what brought this on?” Billie asks, tucking a few loose stands behind your ear.

You take a deep breath. “My friends asked me how things were going with each other. And they asked if we’ve ever been intimate… and when I said no, they were in shock. One of them even said you were loosing your patience with me. That’s why… because… I-I’m sorry, Billie.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, my love,” your girlfriend assures you, gently wiping the tears away with her thumbs. She gives you a gentle smile. “I’d wait forever for you, Y/N. Not just for sex but for anything. Please don’t ever forget that.”

“Promise me that one day, when we do it, it’ll be special,” you murmur softly, looking into your girlfriend’s eyes.

“I promise,” Billie hums before sealing her promise with a gentle kiss.

“Cuddle me?” you request and Billie smiles softly.

“Whatever you want, Y/N,” she replies before laying down on the bed again, her arms reaching out for you. You snuggle up to her, grateful to have a girlfriend like Billie.

#billie eilish #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish blurb #billie eilish fic #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fanfic #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish smut #billie eilish angst

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smusherina · 7 months ago

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yard work - chapter 11 (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 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 12

Making the scrapbook was cathartic. Remembering the good times, the innocence of your childhood, was as much of a joy as it was painful. The pictures were all quite good quality since Abuela had had a film camera. Some photos had been taken with a digital camera, which had probably originally belonged to the Georges and ended up in your possession somewhere along the way.

Regina and yourself playing in the Georges' backyard and swimming in their pool, beaming smiles directed at the camera. You could almost hear the laughter. I miss when we used to be able to just have fun together like this. I guess it's a part of growing up.

Regina in a white frilly dress, carrying a small basket of flower petals, donning a crown of roses on her head. She was pouting, clearly unimpressed by the whole thing. You hadn't been at the wedding since it was a George event, but Regina's mom had been so elated her daughter had gotten to be the flower girl. I remember I was so jealous you got to go to a wedding and I couldn't. You hated it, though, which was funny. You used to leave the room whenever your mom insisted we watch the tape. I wonder if she still has it.

You sitting with Regina, hip to hip, on plastic chairs while a newlyborn Kylie slept in your laps. Regina, eyes stuck on her baby sister and a thoughtful look on her face, while you looked at the camera with a smile. She's growing up so fast. Don't think I don't know you care about her. There's gonna be a time you'll regret not spending time with her. I already feel it.

Mrs George, Abuela, Regina, Kylie in her mom's arms, and you grouped together at a parking lot. You and Regina had on little graduation gowns and had scrolls in your hands. Elementary school graduation. The summer before middle school. End of an era. I love your mom's clothes, they're so nineties. Does she still have those jeans? You should get ahold of them before somebody else does...

Remember when I sliced my hand open when we were peeling apples? That was a time for sure. I still have the scar!

You taped pictures onto the pages, wrote little things here and there, hoping the labour of your love wouldn't end up in the garbage. Or if it did, Regina would read skim through it first.

I think this album was the first time we agreed on music. Britney Spears really brought us together, huh? We even learned the choreography of Baby One More Time. Mrs George loved it. I bet there's a video of that somewhere.

Mostly the scrapbook was filled with anecdotes about your childhoods together. You did write a letter of sorts on the first page, regarding your intentions with the whole thing.

I made this for you to commemorate the good times we had. You know me regrettably well, so I think you know how I tend to hold onto things. I still have that gaudy pink Build-A-Bear you made me for Valentine's Day that one time. It's one of my most important possessions, only second to the memories we have together. You'll always be a friend to me, Reggie. If not forever, or from now on, then back then. I love you. Yours, Jorts.

You'd pretty much finished the whole thing by the end of the weekend. You spent Monday and Tuesday decorating the front cover, mostly because you purposefully put it off. You cut out letters from magazines and glued them there, painstakingly forming the words Reggie & Jorts. You'd tried to come up with something clever, but making a pun or a dumb joke felt like cheapening the whole album. A simple name made up for with fabulous decorations!

You weren't much of a painter, but you figured it'd be fitting if the album reflected its contents. It was fine if the roses you painted looked like a five-year-old did them. A good majority of the pictures featured you and Regina huddled around a crafts table, similar projects scattered all around you, young with clumsy hands but filled with artistic passion.

The album in itself was an earthy green colour, something Regina undoubtedly found ugly. The flowers brightened it up somewhat, but there was only so much ages-old acrylic paints could do. You outlined some with Sharpies. If you didn't know better, one could assume it looked like that on purpose.

You took it with you to school on Wednesday. You had it weighing your backpack down the whole day. You sweated under all your layers, and by the end of it, you were sure you were sporting some epic pit stains. Gross, but you were so nervous. You hadn't broken into anyone's locker in so long. And it was Regina George's locker.

You loitered around the hallways as they emptied out steadily, people heading home or off to extracurriculars. As you approached Regina's locker, you swallowed down your nervousness and got to work.

It wasn't hard. The combination locks were all old and weak, more of a formality than an actual barrier between one's stuff and a burglar. The lock clicked open easily and you wasted no time in stuffing your album inside.

"Hey!" Just as the resounding click of the lock going back into place came, a voice called out to you. "What are you doing with Regina's locker?"

"Uhh..." Gretchen Wieners stood at the intersection of hallways, hands on her hips and accusatory eyes burning holes in you. You made the swift decision that you did not have time for this. You booked it.

"Hey! Get back here!" Gretchen, surprisingly considering her heels, started after you. "What did you put in it? You cannot prank Regina, or- or, oh, was it a bomb?"

"It's not a bomb!" You shouted over your shoulder, sprinting towards the exit. The aggressive clacking of Gretchen's heels on the floors as she ran after you would surely haunt your nightmares. How could she even keep up with you?

"If it's not a bomb then what!" How was she closing in on you? It seemed like she was not even fazed by your little race, meanwhile, you were already winded. The exit was not that far away, but it felt like miles.

"It's Regina's business now! Ask her tomorrow at school or something!" The doors to freedom approached. "Stop chasing me!"

"Stop running!"

"No!"

You burst out and quickly hopped down the stairs, two at a time. Gretchen was still on your tail, but once she got to the top of the stairs shouted: "Karen! Tackle her!"

You hadn't even noticed Karen fucking Shetty. There was no not noticing her when the girl sprinted at you with perfect athletic form and squashed you like a linebacker.

You collided and flew into the snow. Better than the concrete of the footpath but it still hurt like a bitch.

"Get off of me!" You tried to get out from under her, but Karen was surprisingly dense. She was small but it was as if there were stones in her body instead of organs. "Fuck!"

"Keep her there, Karen, very good."

"Thanks!" Karen beamed, which was a much more common expression on her than the bloodlust she'd shown earlier.

"This has nothing to do with you." You snarled, still wriggling. "This is between Regina and me."

"Whatever's between Regina is between us," Gretchen said, all hoity-toity. "Now, tell me exactly what you put in her locker."

"A fucking photo album." You hissed, closing your eyes and clenching your jaw. What lie could you come up with? "Our families used to know each other. It's mostly pictures of her, so I just thought to... Return it."

"Oh, that's so nice!" Karen's hold loosened and you went to escape.

"Nuh-uh, not good enough." Just like that, Karen's weight slammed back down onto you. Your breath wooshed out of your lungs.

"What more do you want?" You wheezed out, getting sick and tired of this.

"Why was it in your possession?"

"I don't fucking know! It just was!"

"Hmm. And why couldn't you just give it to her?"

"You think that would've gone well, Gretchen? Seriously?" You turned your head with great effort, staring up at the girl. "Please, just let me go."

"I don't think I believe you." Gretchen squatted next to your head. "We're going back and checking it's what you say it is. And then you might be free to go."

"Fuck you." You hissed but made no move to book it when Karen hauled you up.

"That's not very nice." Karen pointed out.

"I don't want to be nice to Gretchen right now." You had no real issue with Karen, even if she had just tackled you.

"Oh, okay." You couldn't see her when she was holding your wrists behind your back, but you could imagine she was bobbing her head up and down like she was known to do.

You were walked back into the building, going mostly without a fight. Gretchen strutted along proudly as if capturing you was some great victory. Regina had trained her well. You weren't sure if that was impressive or just sad.

"Open it." Gretchen gestured once you were back at Regina's locker.

"I need my hands to do that." You helped out, smiling at Gretchen like she was stupid. Sputtering and offended, she instructed Karen to let go.

Instead of running like you should've, taking the chance you could get out if Karen didn't get a one-up on you, you obediently cracked the code again. Was it selfish that you kind of wanted others to know about you and Regina? Was it totally horrible of you to want to know it was real and have proof of that? Well, if it was, there was no helping it.

Gretchen snatched the album from the locker before you could even think to touch it. Karen sidled up to her, peering over her shoulder as she opened it.

You stood by, waiting for their judgement and looking at the ceiling. There'd been a water leak right there, based on the discolouration. Gross.

"You... You're J. J is for Jorts." Gretchen said. She sounded weird, like hollow or something. "J is for Jorts." She said again, breathy and disbelieving.

"What?" What the fuck was going on?

Karen spoke then. "She talks about J a lot. Like, a lot a lot. A whole lot." You nodded slowly as Karen went on. "J's like, her true love. It's so cute."

"J is not her true love, Karen! They are both girls." Gretchen pointed out. You had to agree. "Are they?" She looked you up and down judgementally.

"Yes. I am a girl." You said. It was true, you were female and around the age that it was acceptable to be referred to as a girl. Even so, it made you distinctly uncomfortable.

"Hmm." Gretchen didn't seem to believe you. Karen was busy cooing at the pictures of small Regina. It was sheer luck they hadn't bothered to read your writings.

"Look, can I go now? I know I'm busted, you're probably gonna confiscate the album, and Regina will never see it. Happy?"

"No. Karen, please put it back in the locker." Gretchen said, not taking her eyes off of you. Karen did as asked with a pout. "What is your relationship with Regina?" The album was back in the locker, but it hadn't been locked again.

"Nothing." And that was true. There was nothing there anymore.

"That's a lie and you know it. If you're J, then you've known each other at least since middle school. Based on the pictures, even longer."

"Who is J?" You asked in exasperation.

"Somebody who she has protected for years now. Somebody who is always better than we could ever be." Gretchen pointed between herself and Karen. "J is important to her."

"Okay, well, good for J, I guess."

"You're so infuriating." Gretchen sighed, pinching the skin between her eyes.

"You aren't the first to tell me that."

"Of course, because Regina has said that to you. Because you've known each other forever. Because you're J."

"Listen, I may look a bit butch, but I have a perfectly ordinary girl name."

"That is not the point!" She spoke fast and high-pitched. "You. It's you. You've been under our noses this entire time! Do you realize how much easier things could've been if you were around?"

"Excuse me?" Now, you were really lost.

"You're excused," Karen said cheerfully. You nodded to her in thanks.

"We could never be as good as you. It was like we were placeholders for the ultimate pretty girl she'd somehow let slip. And it's you. In a flannel and hoodie, ratty jeans, dirty shoes, no fashion sense to speak of. It's you." She said that last part with contempt.

You were reeling. Regina had talked about you to these two. Had compared them to you, cited that you were better. For years she'd done that. She'd never forgotten about you.

"Look, Gretchen, I'm sorry Regina's treated you badly." You'd lost the need to defend her, even still. Then again, even if you hadn't, there was little you could argue about with the two she'd tormented the most. "You can probably tell this is something Regina doesn't want coming out."

"What does that matter?" Gretchen asked, eyes far away and legs beginning to pace. "We could- could finally bring her down. Yes. We have J, we have everything she wants. She'll come grovelling."

You took a deep breath. You didn't feel angry, you were too tired to get angry at mean girls at this point. Besides, nobody could rile you up like Regina.

"You're wrong." You put it plainly. "What Regina's been doing to these people, to everyone around her, is wrong. But what I find despicable is how everybody is the same. I know her reasons, I can sympathise with her, but I can't say the same for you. So tell me." You paused to take a deep breath. "Why?"

"I'm not good at riddles, I'm sorry." Karen said, looking genuinely apologetic.

"It's okay, Karen, Gretchen can answer for you both."

"She deserves it." Gretchen said, steel in her tone.

"You sound just like Cady Heron and Janis 'Imi'ike. She hurt them too. What do you think ruining her life will achieve?"

"I'll be the new Regina George."

"Do you hear yourself? You still idolize her. If you're gonna be the new Regina George, it's always going to be a Regina George world. Don't you want to be Gretchen Wieners?"

"No!" She screeched. "Gretchen Wieners is lame, boring, too eager, a slut, desperate-" She took a deep breath.

"Okay." You said. "Why? Because Regina said so? Why would you believe her? She's just the same as you. Look," You pulled the album back out.

"Here we're in the Georges' pool. She would not go to the deep end. Y'know, she refused to even go in without those arm floaties for the longest time. Eventually, some boy made fun of her for them and that was the last time.

"And in this one we're driving back from summer camp. Regina was already tall enough to go without a booster seat, but I wasn't. She'd just thrown the biggest tantrum 'cause Mrs George didn't allow her to take off her seatbelt to sleep. She went out like a light, anyway.

"We're in Six Flags there. We'd just gotten those ice creams and you can see that Regina's isn't sticking to the cone all that well. Right after the shot, it just slid off. Regina was inconsolable. I offered her mine so we could share, and that seemed to be good enough for her but her dad was not having it. He threatened to take us home if she didn't stop crying right then, that it'd be all her fault that their whole family wasted money and time on this stupid trip. Eventually she calmed down and Mr George didn't have to drive us back."

You sighed. "I already tried this with Janis, in a way. I don't think Regina would appreciate me airing out her personal life like this, but... I don't know..." You closed your eyes for a moment. "I just want people to stop making things worse for her. She's been so wrong for so long, and I know I can't keep defending her, but I just don't think revenge will make her regret anything that she's done."

Karen hummed. "My auntie's been teaching me about karma. So, like, if she feels what she's made others feel, then won't that like... Fix her?"

"I don't want to hurt her." You said, resolute. "Maybe, it could be the most effective way to make her see her shortcomings. But I don't want to. I do not want to hurt her." You looked between the two. "And that's where we differ, I guess."

Gretchen didn't say anything, eyes glued to a picture from the Six Flags trip. Regina had mustard and ketchup smeared all over her face while she was holding a napkin to your lips, in the process of wiping your face.

With that, you snatched the album from her hands, deposited it back into the locker and slammed it shut. The lock clicked. Without a word, you began to talk towards the exit. Neither of them followed you or said anything to you.

You couldn't stop people from taking their revenge. You had done your best to be diplomatic. Evoking sympathy in hormonal teenagers wasn't something easily done, or maybe you were just shitty at it, but there was little else you could do. If you went ahead and retaliated, hurt them for hurting someone you cared about, the lines blurred.

You'd just be another mean girl.

Notes: Sorry for the delay! The next chapter will be the last one, unless I start rambling or something. After that, I'll do a less structured series of epilogues. Loosely related oneshots, that kinda vibe.

Also, my writing assistant stopped working in the middle of this, so if there's stupid typos I'll come fix them later.

I swear to fucking god if the taglist doesn't work I'll start breaking bones.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism , @9unknown0 , @sage-rose2000 , @massive-honkas , @nattys-swiftie , @likefirenrain , @luz-enjoyer , @dandelions4us , @natashamaximoff-69 , @alexkolax , @jareaul0ver , @here4theqts , @charleeeesworld , @natsbiggestfan1 , @brocoliisscared , @yellowwallflowers , @scarlettbitchx , @ayoungexwife , @cyberbonesworld , @syddie-reads , @screechcat , @theenglishswiftie , @gabby-duhh , @sweetmissnothing , @masterofpuppets-10 , @l1lass , @starved-mortal , @nothanksbye07 , @nenas19 , @jvuyii , @starry-night17 , @reneeswife24 , @glorioushamsterqueen , @krononan , @slug-on-bike , @rayisaknight , @chaseatlanticlover91 , @reginassweetheart , @mirage018

(this actually makes me angry. why. why doesnt it work. i type in the @ and then i type in the name and then it shows up in the lil' box and i click it but then it don't show up ;-;)

(this is cyber bullying. the cybers are bullying me.)

(anyway, if you want to be added to the taglist there is no gurantee if it'll work, but i'll add you if you want! just comment on this post :) if anybody has any ideas why it's like this, lmk!)

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #mean girls x reader #lesbian regina george #wlw #fic: yard work

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thatwitchgf · 11 days ago

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Team Traitor

Summary: You, Melissa Schemmenti's loving girlfriend, are a huge Dallas Cowboys fan, and she has the urge to change that.

Content: NSFW

WC: ~2.7k

Everyone knew you and Melissa complimented each other. She was your more direct and confident half, while you were her balanced and honest half. You both got along all the time, surprisingly.

Well, almost all the time. You were born and raised in Texas, planting that seed for the love for the Dallas Cowboys. And what was that one thing that every Philly can agree on? Their hate for the Dallas Cowboys.

To be fair, it was shocking that the older woman even wanted to pursue you after this news, yet she dealt with it. Though that didn’t stop the snarky comments or quick-wit remarks when you wore your favourite jersey. The friendly competition was fun, getting to tease her or push her buttons just to see the rise you could get out of her. It was your favourite when she would push her glasses to the bridge of her nose, so her green eyes could pierce through you. This would drive you wild, in all the right ways.

///

Today, you sat in your shared apartment and placed yourself in front of the TV as there was a game on; of course your team was playing. You sported your jersey, throwing on a comfy pair of shorts, and bought your favourite bag of chips.

Stuffing your face, content, watching your team play—it was perfect. Of course until the apartment door opened, causing you to crane your neck to see Melissa kicking off her shoes. A flutter flashed through your chest, a common occurrence when seeing her.

“Hi, amore.” She greets you before her eyes flicker to you, her smile dropping as you watch something cross her eyes.

She groans, rolling her eyes. You smirk.

“Good to see you too, baby.” Sarcasm laced in your tone, a playful expression on your face.

“If I would’ve known you’d be puttin’ this crap on, I would’ve gone out with Barb.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, walking over to you nonetheless.

She puts her arms around you from behind the couch, placing a kiss on the top of your head, softly inhaling the scent of your shampoo. Her eyes flicker over your body in the jersey, and she looks away dramatically.

“I can’t. Taintin' such a perfect thing with absolute garbage.” She sighs dramatically as she walks onto the kitchen.

You chuckle, shaking your head, your attention going back to the screen.

“You probably wanna watch; it’s Cowboys against Eagles.” You say through a mouthful of chips.

Melissa’s auburn hair pokes out from the kitchen doorway, a brow arched. “Really? I forgot that was today.”

The older woman sits down on the couch, briefly looking at you in feigned disgust, then to the screen. You scoot closer, sitting so you could lay your legs across her lap.

Melissa tried to not touch you, not wanting any “Cowboys cooties,” as she’d call it. Though it wasn’t long until her manicured hands glide mindlessly up and down your bare legs.

Every point you cheer, which makes Melissa roll her eyes. She’d spew insults and vulgar language at the screen; you were thankful the walls were pretty soundproof. She would immaturely rub it on your face when her team scored.

“Y'know what? I wanna bet.” You begin, narrowing your eyes, a challenge on your face.

“A bet?” She tilted her head; her green eyes flashed with mischief. “You know how I love my bets: high risk, high reward.” She chuckled.

“Yeah—Listen, if the Cowboys win, you have to hang a Cowboys flag in your class for a week.”

The redhead looks almost offended at the near thought of that. “Fine,” she bites, “but if the Eagles win, which they will, you have to wear my jersey.” Confidence is heavy in her tone.

“Deal.” You grin, nodding your head.

“You’re going to look great in my jersey, Amore." She says as her attention goes back to the game, shouting as if the players could hear her. Thank God they can’t.

The living room is tense when the last bit of the game is coming to an end, with a nail-biting score. The score was 33 to 29, with the Eagles in the lead. You knew all your team needed was a proper touchdown, finding yourself just as worked up at the screen as your girlfriend.

Melissa tongued the side of her cheek as a smug grin spread on her lips, glancing at you, knowing she was about to win. Her grinwidened when her team ran across the field, earning a touchdown just as the buzzer went off, and the Eagles' fans cheered.

Your jaw went slack as you whined, throwing your head back. Melissa snorted. "Tough luck for the Cowboys, the usual." She added, making your groan louder.

Melissa was not going to let you live this down for at least two weeks. The cheering and celebration on the screen went black as the redhead flicked off the TV whilst you were too busy mourning the loss of your dignity. She stood up, occasional smug chuckles falling from her, coming back soon after with her jersey.

Without warning and a smirk, she places herself in your lap, pulling you from your defeat. Heat immediately rushes to your face, spreading across your cheeks, hands distinctively going to her waist. Her green eyes glistened with mischief and ego. With swift and talented hands, she hooks her fingers under your Cowboys jersey, slipping it off you and discarding it without regard. Her eyes darkened as she spoke.

"Time to hold your side of the bet, hon." She grins, placing soft kisses on your collarbone, then the soft skin of your breasts.

You gasp softly, and suddenly losing wasn't so bad. She pulls away too early, earning a soft whine from you. Soon enough, her jersey is being slipped onto your body. This makes Melissa lean back, her bottom lip under her teeth, her eyes darkening.

"So so much better," she husks.

Her hands cup your cheeks as she pulls you into a heated kiss, dominance in her kisses. A soft moan falls from your lips into hers, your hands tightening around her waist.

She hooks her hands into your hair, tugging it slightly, causing you to groan softly. She takes advantage of this and slips her tongue into your mouth, causing that familiar need to spread across your body. A harsh tug on your hair parts your lips, your neck slightly craned back. Melissa quickly attaches her lips to your neck, leaving possessive kisses and sucking on all your weak points.

"You look so good in my jersey." She mutters against your skin, her breath hot, her mouth rough, kissing the now bruising marks on your skin.

Her lips travel back up your neck, finding spots near your ear. "I wanna get rid of that awful Cowboy's mindset you're plagued with." She mutters into your ear, her voice low. Her fingers suddenly tighten their grip on your hair. "I'm going to fuck it outta you, princess." She adds, tone laced with promise.

You swallow at her words, finding yourself breathless and utterly helpless in her grip. The only thing you can reply with is a small whimper as she stands from the couch, picking you up, legs wrapped around her waist. She continues to kiss you deeply, all while walking into the bedroom. Your girlfriend drops you onto the plush bed, bouncing for a moment from the drop. Your hair sprawled around you, still breathless, her jersey laying loosely on your body.

She quickly climbs back on top of you, her knees on either side of you. The older woman stares down at you, hunger swirling in her green eyes.

Your hands cup her cheeks, finding yourself just as needy. "Mel." You hush, her gaze intense.

Her lips crash back onto yours, her hands snaking up the loose fabric of your top. Her cold fingertips make you shudder, a stark difference against your heated skin. Her hands trailed hungrily down your body, stopping to lightly run over your clothed need. Without even realizing it, your hips are already chasing her hands, a soft whimper leaving you.

“Pathetic.” Melissa grumbles lowly with a smirk, sending more heat to your core.

“Please— Mel—”

“Already begging me? I don’t think you deserve it, watching you cheer for the wrong team.” She interrupts, leaning into your ear, her breath hot.

“I’m sorry.” You plead, your voice whine, making Melissa’s eyes darken all the more.

Her skilled fingers hook the fabric of your shorts, pulling them off and tossing them aside. Once again, your hips follow her hands. She runs a hand over your, now soaked, panties; a low hum leaves her.

“And already so soaked, so desperate.” Her lips crash back onto yours, messy and hot.

Her manicured hand pushes the fabric of your panties out of the way, making you gasp as she runs a finger through your wet folds.

The grasp you had in her red locks tightens as her finger finds your clit, making slow and gentle circles on it. Your head is numb with sudden pleasure, causing you to moan against her lips. It’s not long until she plunges two fingers into you, deep and curling at every right angle.

Your head falls back, mouth opened, and overflowing with moans and gasps. She moves her mouth to your neck, her teeth grazing against your burning skin. Her fingers continued to fuck you, her palm expertly rubbing against your clit.

You felt yourself drawing closer to your orgasm, your vision becoming more cloudy as your moans grew more desperate. The older woman quickly took notice and withdrew her hand, earning a loud whine from the loss of contact.

"What the hell?" You look up at her, brows furrowed, jaw slack.

She brings her wet digits to her mouth, letting out a low hum as she tastes you. "So sweet, amore."

She looks at you as if she knows she has full control over you. You throw your head back in the pillow, letting out a groan, not even noticing your girlfriend leaving the bed. It's only until she's crawling back on the bed that you bring your eyes back to her, your heart thudding at the sight.

She now wore a pink strap, one she'd used to fuck you before. You felt a familiar throb in your core.

"I told you I was going to fuck it outta you, hon." She mutters with that damn grin, looking at you as if you were food. You were to her.

She presses her lips back onto yours, gentle and sweet, until she nips at your bottom lip. Her tongue quickly slipped back into your mouth, making you moan. She ran the tip of the strap against your wetness, teasing you.

Without warning, she sank the entirety of the strap inside you, making you shout her name, your whole body arching. She began to thrust into you with wanton lust, your hands gripping her back, your nails adding to her own pleasure.

Each relentless and hard thrust had you moaning louder, your mouth open, eyes closed. Her hand grips your chin, pulling it to look at her.

"Open your eyes; I want to see you." She demands, making you open your eyes to meet her green ones, full of desire and dominance.

It's not long until you're moving closer to your orgasm again, your gasps and moans more frequent, clenching around her strap. Your pleasure is cut short when she pulls out of you, leaving you empty.

Before you can even protest, her hands grip your waist as she manhandles you to lay on your stomach. You let out a gasp, your head falling into the sheets, attempting to hold yourself up by your elbows. Your eyes prick with tears as she plunges deep into you, the angle allowing her to reach all the perfect spots.

Your hands grip the sheets, her grip on your hips guiding you down on her, her pace never slowing. She snakes a hand around, running tight circles around your clit as she continues her relentless thrusts.

"Please." A Whimper tumbles from you through moans. "Please, Mel, I need you." Your words are interrupted by your loud moans.

Melissa doesn't dare stop, not this time. She leans in, her chest pressed to your back, trailing kisses from the back of your neck to your ear. "Come for me; I know you've been waiting like such a good girl."

Her words throw you over the edge, your knuckles whiten with the grip you had on the sheets, your vision hazing as you feel an intense wave of pleasure wash through you. You cry out her name, your legs trembling as you come, your girlfriend helping you ride it out with slower thrusts.

"So good." She coos, placing a firm kiss on the back of your neck.

You feel your body grow weaker as you come down from your high, gravity-taking effect as you go to lay flat. That's until Melissa's hands move to grip your waist again. "Nuh-uh, I still don't think we're done yet. I'm not fully convinced you learned your lesson." She says as she begins to thrust back into you, making you cry out, already being overly sensitive from your first orgasm.

"You can take it right, hon?" She husks.

You swallow and nod, letting out a weak "Mhm."

She continues to fuck you, harder than before, the overstimulation falling into a deep pleasure. Tears finally spilled over, running down your cheeks. Your face falls into the pillow, muffling your moans and cries as you fall closer to another orgasm.

Your head is suddenly tugged back, Melissa grabbing a fistful of hair, holding it up. "No, I want to hear you." She adds, You could hear the satisfied grin on her face.

Her chest is pressed against your back again as she whispers in her ear. "Now tell me, what team do you belong to?" There's mischief hinted in her tone.

You stay quiet; amongst your haze of pleasure, you still didn't want to betray your team or cave so quickly. Your lack of response makes the redhead tug your hair back harder.

"I asked you a question, hon." She uttered into your ear, making it clear she wasn't going to give you the satisfaction you were seeking until you answered.

Through moans and whimpers, you struggled to answer. "God, your team. Eagles, I belong to your team." You finally gasp out, choking on your own moans.

"Thats my girl." She bites down on your neck, her fingers going back to your clit.

She lets your hair go as your second, overwhelming orgasm shakes your body, crying her name in please against the bed. She helps you ride it out before slowly pulling it out of you, leaving you empty and letting you collapse onto the bed. The room is quiet now, aside from your heavy breathing and the soft shuffle as Melissa discards the toy and lays beside you.

She holds you so you roll into her side, your body jello and limp. She cups your cheek, her eyes now full of compassion and a hint of victory. She wipes the tears on your cheeks, placing a kiss on your temple. "You did so good, amore." She says softly, a stark difference from herself a few moments ago.

You hold yourself closer to her, gazing into your girlfriend's face. "You're evil." You finally manage to utter through your brain fog.

This earns you a soft chuckle from the older woman, “But you love it.” She quips.

“I do.” You huff, your chest still raising underneath her jersey as you catch a breath.

She places a soft and gentle kiss to your lips, pulling back so she could speak. “You look perfect, all ruined in my jersey. A true Philly girl now.” Her eyes glint.

“Mmm, I don’t know—” You mumble.

She playfully pinches your waist, making you squeak.

“Watch your words, hon.”

She pulls you in again, kissing you hard yet safe within her grasp. Loved, no matter what.

///

Feel free to send in reqs :P

#melissa schemmenti #wlw #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x reader #lesbian #sapphic #melissa schemmenti x f!reader

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sl-ut · 2 years ago

Text

you should probably leave

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

description: joel is enamoured by his new neighbour, but old patterns will always be his downfall.

warnings: UNEDITED, slight age gap, slight smut, implied unprotected piv, protected piv, swearing, alcohol consumption, insecurity, angst, reader is given a birthday (she's a sag like me)

words: 10.8K (my longest fic to date)

date posted: 14/03/23

part two

(inspired by you should probably leave by chris stapleton)

OCTOBER 12, 1998

The weather was something that she was unsure if she could ever get used to. For her entire life, she had spent the entirety of the late autumn months dreading the first snowfall of the season before lugging out her extensive collection of knitted sweaters and fur-lined boots. Instead, her little archive of winter clothing was left in a cardboard box in her childhood bedroom, along with the majority of her other belongings that she had not brought with her on her grand adventure–if you could even call it that.

The University of Texas at Austin had not been her first choice of school, or her second, or third; she actually had never even imagined going to school any further than a few hours from her hometown in Pennsylvania, and yet there she was, standing in front of her brand-new home, sweltering under the harsh Texan sun as she struggled to unload her packed car all on her own. Well, to call it her home would be a pretty tight stretch, as well as to label it as “brand-new.”

The small bungalow-style house had caught her eye on a flyer in the grocery store, a listing for one female roommate in a cul-de-sac not too far from the city. It wasn’t exactly her dream home by any means, with an ugly yellow exterior and a kitchen that could certainly use an updating, but it she had recently been forced out of her own apartment due to her previous roommate preferring her boyfriend to live their with her instead and it was the nicest of the few places within her price range that would also accommodate the mutt she’d rescued during her first year. All things considered, it was quite literally perfect for her situation–plus her new roommate seemed to have been at least more considerate of her boundaries than the last, which gave her some hope that things might actually work out.

Y/n grunted at the weight of the box, cursing herself internally for enrolling in school and owning so many textbooks as she lugged it up the front steps, dropping it just inside the door. She couldn’t help but grimace as she glanced up, meeting the watchful gaze of Manny, his furry little head tilting curiously–likely wondering why she was making so much ruckus and interrupting his nap.

“Lazy ass,” she muttered under her breath at him, kicking the box to the side before trudging back out the door.

The next few boxes were filled with clothes and shoes, fortunately for her spine. She hauled several out, dropping each of them to the pavement of the driveway carelessly as she wiped at her sweaty forehead, apparently too enthralled in the work to notice the beat up truck as it turned into the neighbouring driveway.

“Hey there,” she turned to find a young man, his hair combed back to expose his effortlessly charming face to her, “You need a hand?”

She glanced down at the boxes at her feet, “I wouldn’t wanna bother you.”

A young girl appeared at his side, wide eyes peering over at the older female curiously. The man shrugged, puffing out his broad chest as he moved. Y/n almost laughed at how obvious he was being, only seconds after meeting her. The man gave off the impression that he had always thought fairly highly of himself, probably the quarterback of the high school football team, maybe even involved in the armed forces–the navy, she was betting. He crossed the barrier between the two driveways in two long strides, extending his hand out to her as he came closer.

“I’m Tommy,” he flashed her a grin, his accent coming out thicker than it probably would have normally. He glanced over his shoulder, motioning for the young girl to follow him into the neighbouring yard, “This is my niece Sarah.”

Y/n smiled politely, shaking his hand lightly, “Hi, I’m Y/n. I guess it’s nice to meet some of my new neighbours.”

“Well, Sarah, here, is your neighbour. Me, I live–”

“What happened to Stephanie?” Sarah interrupted, “I didn’t know she was moving.”

Y/n turned her attention to the young girl, “She isn’t, we’re just living together now.”

Sarah’s mouth formed an ‘o’, the gears visibly turning in her head as she formulated her next question, “Are you guys dating?”

“Sarah!” Tommy choked on his spit, “I’m sorry–”

“It’s okay,” Y/n chuckled at his response before turning back to the young girl, “No, we’re not. I guess she just didn’t wanna be living here all on her own anymore.”

Tommy’s shoulders relaxed, the mortified expression leaving his features in favour of one that she might have even considered relief. He shook his head at his niece, giving her a hard stare, “I’m sorry about her. I figured that she would have some better manners by now–my mistake.”

Sarah swatted at him, a pout appearing on her lips as her brows furrowed. The girl didn’t quite understand how the question may have been taken with offence by some, and was quite miffed by her uncle’s insult.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Y/n affirmed, “I think it’s actually a good thing that she knows about that kinda stuff.”

Tommy glanced down at the boxes, clear discomfort appearing on his features, “Alrighty then, how about these boxes?”

Y/n gave in, offering Tommy one of the heavier of the three boxes, while shifting the smallest and lightest to the young girl, who had been adamant in helping out. She instructed them to just drop the boxes to the floor by the door, not looking to take up much more of their time.

A loud gasp escaped Sarah, her wide eyes falling on the mutt, who had appeared to have been equally as excited to see her as he rushed over, tongue lolling out of his mouth and tail flapping wildly. Sarah squealed when he barrelled into her, a fit of giggles leaving her mouth as he brought her to the ground and began to cover her face in slobbery kisses.

“Manny!” Y/n groaned, grasping the dog’s collar and pulling away enough for Sarah to sit up off of the floor, “Sorry, he’s just convinced that everyone wants to be his friend.”

“I’ll be his friend!” Sarah beamed, reaching out and squishing the dog’s face in between her palms, “I mean… Can I?”

Y/n shrugged, “As long as it’s okay with your…” She glanced at Tommy for help, unsure about Sarah’s parentage situation. He’d already made it clear that he did not live next door, but had never explicitly stated who did.

“You’ll have to ask your dad, Sarah,” He chastised her, “Anyway, we should get out of your hair now, let you settle in.”

Y/n nodded, “Yeah, thank you for the help, though.”

“No problem, ma’am,” He winked, southern charm on full display as he stepped out onto the front step, “Anytime for a pretty girl like you. C’mon, Sar.”

Sarah begrudgingly offered the needy pup one more affectionate squeeze before following after her uncle, leaping off of the step and bounding across to her own front yard. Tommy paused, hand resting on the railing of the step and giving it a firm shake. His lips pursed into a line as he let out a small huh as the bannister shifted out of its place, then back in under the pressure.

“Yeah, Steph said there were all kinds of little things wrong with the place,” Y/n noted, “But hey, if it’s got four walls and a roof, it’s good enough for me.”

He chuckled at her, shaking his head, “You know, my brother and I are contractors, we could come over and help you fix things up if you guys wanted.”

She hummed, “I’ll mention it to Steph. Wouldn’t wanna just start making changes to her house while she’s not here, would I?”

Tommy hummed, “‘Spose that’s true. Anyway, I should go see where she ran off to, but I sure hope I’ll be seeing you around.” He shot her a cheeky wink before jogging back over to the neighbouring yard, leaving her and Manny among the mess of boxes in the entryway.

Y/n huffed, glancing around at the mess, then at the furry little beast at her feet, who waited patiently for her to begin offering him her love and attention. She rested her hands on her hips, shaking her head softly, “Well, let’s just get this done, boy.”

– – –

Joel grunted as he clambered in through the side door of his home, sighing in relief as he slipped out of his heavy work boots and dropped the armload of groceries onto the kitchen counter. He could hear the TV on in the living room, drowned out by Sarah’s yell of a greeting. He rushed to put away the groceries, sticking the brown paper bags in the recycling before stepping into the dimly lit sitting area.

Tommy was reclined on the couch, slumped into the worn leather like a pile of mashed potatoes as he balanced his can of Budweiser on his bent knee. He nodded to his brother briefly as he lifted the beer to his lips, hardly taking his eyes off of the football game on the screen as Joel plopped down next to him. The older brother leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to Sarah’s head so as to not disturb her as she worked on her homework on the coffee table in front of the couch before finally copying his brother’s position.

“The hell took you so long? You left the site the same time I did, and I had to go pick this shithead up from school,” he playfully kicked at Sarah’s leg, “plus I helped your new neighbour move in.”

“Supermarket was a zoo,” Joel moaned as he ran his palm flat over his face, then furrowed his brow, “What new neighbour?”

Tommy nodded his head back in the direction of the mustard yellow house, “Chick next door got a new roommate.”

“Uncle Tommy was flirting with her,” Sarah chimed in, not taking her eyes off of the math textbook in front of her.

Joel rolled his eyes, “Now tell me why I’m not surprised.”

Tommy shook his head, taking another large gulp of beer, “I know what you’re thinking, but this girl’s different. She’s not from ‘round here. Not sure where, but she’s got an accent. Canada, maybe.”

“You know what a Canadian accent sounds like?” Joel scoffed, knowing that his brother was prone to drawing his own conclusions.

“Well, no,” Tommy frowned, “But I imagine it might sound like that. Doesn’t matter, I think I’m gonna ask her out.”

Joel grunted in response, turning his eyes to the game on the screen.

“She wasn’t flirting back,” Sarah grinned up at the two men, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her father’s growing smirk and giggling as his own laughter came tumbling out. Tommy kicked her again, only this time with a little more force, “What? You invited yourself over there and were all,” She puffed her chest out and deepened her voice, “Anything for a pretty girl like you.”

Joel rested a palm on his belly as he shook with laughter, his other hand landing on the top of his daughter’s head affectionately as Tommy crossed his arms, sulking.

“I think she was flirting back,” he argued.

“She wasn’t,” Sarah reaffirmed.

Tommy leaned forward, “Now how the hell would you know anything about flirting, huh? You been doin’ a lot of it at school?”

Her face burned in embarrassment, sputtering for a response, “No, that’s gross!”

Joel frowned at her, shaking his head in feign sternness, “You better not be. Otherwise I might need to break out grandpa’s old hunting rifle.”

She didn’t utter another word, simply gathering her things in her arms and rushing off to her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her as the laughter of her father and uncle followed her every step.

OCTOBER 17, 1998

Just under a week had passed since he’d first caught wind of his new neighbour, and Joel had yet to even see this woman. He’d noticed the new car in the driveway, and he’d picked up on the presence of the dog fairly quickly, especially after he’d caught Sarah tossing some of the vegetables from her dinner over the fence for him. Joel hadn’t paid it much mind, he was far too busy to be concerned with some young girl who didn’t seem to be causing much issues.

He’d had words with Stephanie several times in the past; once for blatantly smoking pot on

her front step when they were heading out for the day, then for leaving her garbage bin too close to his driveway, causing him to back into it and scratch the paint on his truck, and then once more when she’d had a little get together that ended up lasting until 4am, when the police arrived. He would normally have called himself a narc for having the party shut down, but it was keeping Sarah awake and the door had been shut in his face when he went over to ask politely.

The day had been long, and normally he would have refused Tommy’s invitation to head over to one of the local dive bars, but after dealing with the shit-show that had gone on at the job site that day, he really needed a drink. Sarah was out of the house, anyway, having slept over at a friend’s house, so there was quite literally nothing keeping him away.

“Brother’s night, my ass,” Joel grumbled into his glass, glancing over to the corner booth, where his brother had joined a pretty brunette, leaving Joel to himself at the barside. He waved at the bartender, motioning for another top-up of his whiskey.

A figure appeared at his side, leaning onto the bartop to call out to the bartender. Joel glanced over, his eyes raking over her radiant side profile in awe. He shot his gaze back to the glass of amber liquid in front of him, then briefly over to the girl once more. His eyes narrowed in on her pursed lips, noting how her brows furrowed in frustration as the bartender migrated to the other side of the bar. She turned to him suddenly, and Joel whipped his head back around to ensure that he wouldn’t appear to be some creep–though he was positive he certainly had been.

“Is it always like this here?” She asked him, tilting her head. “I swear, I’ve gone to three different spots along this bar, and buddy keeps looking in the other direction.”

He cleared his throat, “You not from around here?”

She smiled sheepishly, “Is it that obvious?”

Joel chuckled, “Just a little. You gotta get his attention, be firm. Here,” he tucked his index finger and thumb into his mouth and let out a loud whistle, nodding at the bartender as he rushed over.

“Two vodka crans, please,” The girl smiled prettily at the bartender, then scoffed as he turned to begin pouring the drinks, “Shit, I guess I could stand to learn a thing or two.”

“It comes with time,” He frowned, realising that he may have implied that he was at the bar every other night, “I mean, not that I’m–”

She touched his arm softly, electricity running through her fingertips and into his bicep, “Hey, I’m not here to judge you if you’re not here to judge me, heh?”

He nodded, opening his mouth to speak once more when another figure appeared at her side. His smile dropped, taking in the sight of his next door neighbour, probably one of the last people he wanted to see on his night off.

“What the fuck is taking you so long–oh,” Stephanie narrowed her eyes at the older man, who simply turned and took another long swig of his whiskey, “Hello, Joel.”

“Stephanie,” he drawled, “How you doin’ tonight?”

She smirked at him maliciously, “Fine. Y/n, this is the guy I was telling you about.”

Oh, this is Y/n, he thought to himself, suddenly understanding Tommy’s instant interest in the girl.

“All good things, I hope,” he sighed into his glass.

She shook her head, “Oh, just that you’re the neighbour from hell, and that you’re a narc.”

Y/n tucked her bottom lip in between her teeth, visibly uncomfortable at the confrontation. His eyes fell to her mouth at the movement, wondering what it might feel like to take that same lip in between his own teeth.

“You keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night, Steph,” he huffed, praying to any god that would listen that she hadn’t completely turned Y/n against him.

Stephanie sneered at him, grasping one of the drinks from the bartop and stomping off, leaving a thick tension over the remaining two. Joel met Y/n’s gaze once again, noting the visible embarrassment on her face as she began to laugh slowly.

“Sorry about her,” She laughed nervously, “For the record, I know that she’s a little dramatic.”

“‘T’s fine,” Joel grumbled, swallowing the last gulp of whiskey, “You ain’t gotta apologise for her, she can feel however she wants about me.”

Y/n chuckled, a genuine one this time and Joel couldn’t help but carve the melodious sound into his memory, “I’m Y/n, by the way.”

He nodded, accepting the soft handshake that she offered, “So I’ve heard.” He noticed the slight furrow of her brow before he clarified, “I’m Sarah’s dad.”

Realisation crossed her face, “Oh, Sarah! She’s a real sweetheart.”

“Yeah, she is,” he smiled softly at the complement, “She sure likes you, and I’m assuming that it’s your pup that I’ve caught her feeding her broccoli to?”

Y/n giggled at him, “Huh, I’d noticed that he was especially gassy lately. Here I was thinking it was something in the water.”

Joel let out a loud laugh, then realised that he had not actually introduced himself, “Shit. Sorry, I just–” he coughed, “I’m Joel.”

“So I’ve heard.” She repeated to him, clearing her throat before turning to gaze at him through her lashes with a soft smile, “So Joel, is this seat taken?”

– – –

Y/n had not expected to have enjoyed herself quite so much when Stephanie forced her to go to the grubby little saloon, feeling incredibly out of place among all of the southerners. She had been hesitant to leave Manny on his own so soon after moving in, but the last thing that she had wanted to do was get on Stephanie’s bad side so early on. Then, she’d stumbled upon the devastatingly handsome man sitting all on his own at the bar, and her tune changed drastically.

She sat on that stool for the better part of two hours after Stephanie had fucked off, leaving them to become acquainted with one another. Joel had offered her another drink, which she accepted under the terms that she would buy the next round, and against his better judgement, he found himself doing a shot of tequila with her as well. She smirked to herself when she took note of the flush that had crawled into his cheeks, and how cheerful his dark chocolate eyes looked under the dim lighting of the bar.

Y/n had noticed Tommy in the corner booth, and how he had been blatantly pressing his southern charm onto the brunette under his arm in the very same way that he had to her, which made her feel much better knowing that he couldn’t possibly be that upset about her doing the exact same to his brother.

Her hand had come to rest on his knee, leaning across to invade his personal space animatedly as she spoke, her own cheeks flushing each time that he grinned or laughed at her words, and she had lost count of the amount of times that she had rubbed her thighs together or considered smashing her lips to his.

Tommy appeared at his side, clutching his shoulder in his firm grasp, “Hey Joel, you think you’re ready–oh, hey, Y/n.” His cheeks had turned red, one hand self-consciously rising to rub at his cheek, where the stark red lipstick stain had once acted as a trophy and was now an admission of guilt. Tommy pursed his lips, “Wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

She shrugged, “Steph forced me out.”

He nodded awkwardly, unsure of how to save himself in this situation.

Y/n turned her head, catching sight of her roommate’s drunken attempt to seduce the bouncer before turning her attention back to the older of the two brothers, squeezing his knee once before sliding off of the stool, “Speaking of, I should probably leave, she’s gonna get us banned from here any minute now. It’s been nice, talking to you, Joel. See you, Tommy.”

Both men watched as she disappeared into the crowd, eyes trailing after her figure longingly.

Tommy huffed, “You think I still got a chance?”

Joel’s shoulders shook in a drunken fit of giggles, lifting his own hand to proudly show off the nine digits that had been marked into his skin, “Nope.”

Tommy’s jaw dropped, clear disappointment on his features before it was quickly replaced by pride, “Well fuck, brother. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

OCTOBER 31, 1998

Y/n wiped at the sweat on her brow, breathing picking up in delight as she turned the corner and the blinding yellow house came into sight. The sun had already begun to set by the time that she and Manny had set out on their evening walk, now settling low on the horizon and casting a golden hue to the world below it as Manny tugged on his leash, obviously also desperate to escape the heat.

A loud honk sounded from behind her, muffled slightly by the music playing over her bulky headphones, drawing her attention to the dark pickup truck as it sped past, Sarah hanging out the back window with a grin on her face as she waved dramatically. Y/n chuckled at the young girl, allowing Manny to lead her into a faster pace as they grew closer to their house.

She slid the headphones down to rest around her neck, pressing pause on her walkman as Sarah rushed towards them. The girl paid very little mind to the woman holding the leash, instead dropping to her knees and reaching out for the excited dog’s face, laughing as he began to lick enthusiastically at her cheek.

“Hi,” her gaze rose to find Joel as he rounded the bed of the truck, hand resting on the top of the tailgate as he tried his best to look casual, “sorry, this one never shuts up about that dog.”

Y/n smiled at him, warmth flooding through her cheeks. She’d only actually spoken to Joel a handful of times since that night at the bar, mostly simple greetings while Sarah occupied herself with Manny. Joel was too awkward of a person to try anything with Sarah present, and Y/n was too compassionate to question him about why he hadn’t bothered to call yet in front of his daughter.

Y/n shrugged, “To be fair, he never shuts up about her, either.”

“Oh did he tell you that?” The man asked, brows raised playfully, “I didn’t know you spoke dog.”

“There are many things you don’t know about me yet, Joel,” She smirked at him, “Oh, happy Halloween, by the way.”

“Right,” Joel raised one hand to stroke his hairy chin, “Yeah, you too.”

Sarah glanced up from Manny’s pleading brown eyes, “Dad forgot.

Joel sent a sharp glare to his daughter, then smiled sheepishly at her, “Not too concerned about a holiday that’s got nothing to do with me, anyway–this one decided she’s too cool for trick-or-treating with dad this year.”

“Oh don’t feel too discouraged, I gave my dad the boot when I was even younger.”

“See?” Sarah pressed, glancing back at her father, “You don’t even like Halloween, I don’t get why you’re mad.”

Y/n widened her eyes and clutched her chest dramatically, “What do you mean, you don’t like Halloween? It’s like, one of the best holidays!”

Joel rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t tell me you’re one of those people.”

She pursed her lips, “And just when I was starting to like you, Miller.”

His eyes met hers, curiosity pooling into the dark mocha irises as he considered her words. He almost appeared apologetic; could he feel guilty about not calling her? Y/n did her best to not appear too shaken by his lack of contact–she hadn’t expected anything from him the next day, but after two weeks and still no call? She’d taken that as a sign that he’d been a tad too drunk when he had been so shamelessly flirting with her, and that he had no intentions of ever pursuing anything.

Y/n was thankful when Sarah interrupted the pair, preventing her from spiralling into a nervous breakdown from her own inner monologue, “What are you dressing up as?”

The woman shook her head with a mischievous smirk on her lips, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see when you come knocking at my door, huh?”

“No big plans?” Joel tilted his head, “I figured that roommate of yours would have you out on the town.”

She shrugged, “Steph’s out of town. Something about the drinks and the guys being stronger. Looks like it’s just gonna be me and my little guy here,” she gently clapped a hand against Manny’s side, “Well, us and a selection of horror movies.”

Sarah stood up, leaning into her dad’s side with her elbow, “How convenient, my dad will also be home alone tonight.”

Joel dropped his head in embarrassment–just leave it to Sarah to blatantly play the role of her father’s wingwoman. He refused to meet Y/n’s amused gaze, ears burning as Sarah continued.

“And he totally loves horror movies. He watches them all the time.”

“Oh really?” Y/n did her best not to burst out laughing, enjoying the sight of both Joel’s embarrassment and how confidently Sarah was trying to talk up her own father. She crossed her arms over her chest, doing her best to not make it too obvious how much she actually wanted to invite him to join her, but she didn’t want to display too much interest in him if he genuinely had none in her, “Well then maybe he should head to Blockbuster before all of the good ones are rented.”

She raised her brow at him, signalling to him that it was his turn to make a move, as she would not be making any more. He nodded at her, red flooding his cheeks as he tried to muster up the courage to discuss the clear tension between them.

Y/n smiled politely at them both, then glanced down at the heavily panting dog at her feet, “Well, I better get this guy out of this heat. See you guys in a bit, then?” She led the dog past them, glancing back over her shoulder, her lips pursed as she watched Sarah poke at her father’s side sharply.

The young girl smirked at her dad knowingly, remaining silent, though the expression on her face made her thoughts very clear to the man. She scowled at him, crossing her arms over her chest, “Christina’s sister is so right; all boys are stupid.”

The man scowled at his daughter, watching in silence as she moved around him without another word, disappearing through the front door without so much as another glance. Joel scoffed, shaking his head at her, and wondering how the hell his nine year old could be so goddamn right about the situation.

– – –

Joel wiped his hands anxiously across the expanse of his thighs, attempting to rid himself of the nervous sweat that had collected in his palms as he stood on Y/n’s front step, mustering up the courage to finally knock.

“The fuck am I doing,” He cursed to himself, shaking his head as he ran a hand over his face.

Y/n was younger than him; not by a lot, but they were still in very different stages of their lives. He wasn’t willing to admit that he genuinely did like her, and considering that she was still a young woman and still in college, he wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for with him. Was it just some quick fuck that she wanted? Joel wouldn’t be opposed–hell, he was ashamed that he’d imagined such a thing more than a few times since meeting her–but he wasn’t sure if he could jump into bed with her and then move on with his life, nor could he expect her to be willing to just pick up the role of step-mother to his little girl.

Joel had woken up on October 17, hungover as hell and struggling to recall any of his memories from the night before. He’d forced himself out of bed much earlier than he would have liked, needing to pick Sarah up before her soccer game. The man had stumbled his way into the shower, blindly going through the motions of bathing himself as the warm water slowly began to remove the fog from his mind. It was then, as he had reached out for his bottle of body wash that he noticed the smudge of blue ink on his skin, and then jumping in surprise at the memory of the beautiful woman who had given him her phone number–the woman who had him laughing like he hadn’t in so long and blushing harder than he thought possible–the woman who he hoped was now lying peacefully in her bed next door, preferably all on her own.

The few times that he had seen her since then, he had thought about apologising for not calling and telling her the truth of what had happened, despite his embarrassment. He wanted to ask for it again, but every time, Sarah was there, making a fuss over the little pooch that never seemed to leave Y/n’s side. He wished that he were more confident in himself, more willing to speak to other women even if his daughter was there, but he simply would never be able to look at the young girl again if Y/n were to reject him.

“Shit,” He swore loudly as he turned to rush off of the step, instead booting one of the carefully carved jack-o-lanterns onto the pavement of the driveway and watching in horror as it shattered on impact.

“Joel?” He froze at the sound of the door creaking open behind him, smiling bashfully at the young woman as he did his best to not appear too guilty. Her eyes fell from his flushed face to the mess of orange at his feet, a surprised chuckle leaving her lips, “Damn, you really do hate Halloween, huh? Enough to come over here and start destroying my decorations, anyway.”

He sputtered for an answer, “I–it was an accident, I just knocked it off by accident on my way out–”

“Your way out?” She questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the doorframe, “So what, you were just loitering on my front step?”

He scoffed at her, “I was actually on my way to apologise, but if you’d rather I just get lost…”

Y/n raised a brow inquisitively, “I’m listening.”

“I just–I’m sorry for not calling,” Joel admitted with a sigh, debating whether or not it would be best to explain exactly why, “For what it’s worth, I would have if I hadn’t washed it off by accident.”

An amused expression crossed her features as she mulled over his explanation, “You…washed it off?”

He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, “I did.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, as if she were trying to decipher whether or not he was being truthful, “Okay.”

His gaze shifted from side to side, uncertain as to what she meant, “Okay?”

“Okay,” She affirmed, “So what time did you wanna come over tonight?”

Joel swallowed the lump in his throat, “Tonight?”

Y/n shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the butterflies that slammed at the lining of her stomach and threatened to erupt, “Tonight. You said it yourself, Sarah’s gonna be gone all night, so would you rather be home alone or come over? Otherwise, I’ll just be here by myself, scared and in need of a devastatingly handsome cowboy to protect me from Michael Myers.”

Blush spread across his cheeks, his hands coming up to rest on his hips, “I don’t know about ‘devastatingly handsome’, but I think I could handle some asshole in a mask.”

She grinned at him wickedly, “That’s what everyone thinks, but I guess we’ll see tonight, around eight?”

“Eight.” He confirmed, then glanced down at the mess at his feet, “And sorry about your pumpkin.”

“It’s alright,” Y/n smirked, “You’ll just have to work extra hard to make it up to me.”

– – –

Joel anxiously adjusted his shirt, frowning at himself in the window of her front door. Despite dismissing Sarah’s teasing by claiming that this was in fact, not a date, he’d taken her advice in showering the moment that he had gotten into the house.

He was aware that she was flirting with him, but until he had gotten out of the shower, towel sitting low around his waist as he wiped the steam away from the mirror and took in his shaggy appearance, he had not been at all concerned about what activities the night might lead to. Staring at his own reflection, nervousness quickly began to settle into his bones.

He had made quick work with the clipper, shortening the length of his facial hair after several weeks of negligence and leaving his lower face to be covered by a light stubble. He put a little more effort into his hair than usual, running a thin layer of gel through it while noting to himself that it was probably time for a haircut. He even took things a step further, dabbing a few drops of some woodsy cologne onto his skin; the bottle had gone untouched for two years, having been a Christmas present from his mother.

“Are you wearing cologne?” Sarah asked as she appeared at his side, face painted to resemble a circus clown, “I knew this was a date.”

“It’s not a date,” He argued, doing his best not to jump in fright at her appearance, “Shouldn’t you be out on the town by now, Ronald McDonald?”

“You showered, put on cologne, and you’re bringing candy? It’s a date.” Sarah listed, “And I’m Pennywise, by the way. Christina’s sister is coming to pick me up soon. She says that guys always dress up when she goes out with them because they want her–”

Joel grunted, glaring at his daughter, “I want you to stop hanging around Christina’s sister.”

Sarah ignored his comment, “Is that what you’re wearing?”

Joel glanced down at his outfit–a clean pair of jeans and an old t-shirt that he’d probably gotten out of a beer box or something, “What’s wrong with this?”

“What’s right with it?”

Joel considered his parenting style for a moment, wondering if he would be free of this headache if he had spanked his daughter once or twice in her life. Sometimes he forgot that the girl was only nine years old with how intelligent she was and how much more mature she seemed in comparison to other kids her age.

“It’s not a date, Sarah.”

She rolled her eyes, “It could be. Come on.”

Sarah rushed past him, leading him into his own bedroom as she began to dig through his closet. She frowned with almost every piece that she picked out, tossing them behind her recklessly and ignoring her father’s scolding for the mess that she had quickly created.

“Hah!” The girl pulled out an egg-plant button down and shoved it into his grasp, “I knew you had to have something that wasn’t that ugly.”

He grunted at her, but didn’t reply out of respect for her brutal honesty as he quickly shed himself of the worn t-shirt he’d previously been wearing in favour of the one that Sarah had chosen. Now, as he stood at her front door and internally decided for himself that this was a date, he couldn’t help but thank God for his daughter’s awareness.

Finally, after tugging at the hem of his shirt, he raised a fist and knocked heavily on the door. Joel choked on his own saliva when she appeared in the window, smiling sweetly at him when she pulled the door open. She had already changed into a pair of black yoga pants and a sky blue shirt that exposed just a tasteful amount of her midriff.

“Hi, again,” she breathed, a smile forming on her face, “You look nice, purple is definitely your colour.”

Joel burned, “I–thank you. Sarah picked it out.”

Y/n turned to the girl, who had already ushered the dog up onto the sofa with her, “Well she has a clear eye for style.”

“She definitely thinks so, that girl damn near harrasses me about my clothes everyday.” Y/n laughed out loud, Joel’s ears tingling at the melodious sound, “You look great, too.”

Y/n beamed down at her outfit, shrugging to herself, “Thanks, I thought about keeping my costume on but I wasn’t entirely sure how much you would be into Strawberry Shortcake.”

Joel chuckled at her, glancing down at the object in his hand, “I brought beer, by the way. Wasn’t sure if I should bring anything, or if you even like–”

Y/n reached out, snatching the six pack from his grasp, “Ever the gentleman, cowboy. So, you coming in?”

– – –

The house was filled with laughter, both having nearly finished their first beer as they shared stories freely. Halloween played quietly in the background, though neither of them paid too much attention. Y/n did her best not to physically melt when she felt Joel’s arm drape across the back of the sofa behind her, resisting the urge to tease him for attempting to cover it up by faking a dramatic yawn.

She brushed her fingers along the top of his thigh, smirking to herself as she watched his leg slowly shift closer to her, though he didn’t address the affectionate touch. He spoke to her softly, and made an effort to hold eye contact with her as he did to–she was starting to feel some guilt about the conclusion that he’d drawn about him after he’d failed to call her. Her own gaze continuously fell to his lips as he spoke, and she was sure that he had noticed by the way that his lips began to curl confidently. Her heart hammered in her chest, wondering how much longer she would need to wait before he finally made a move.

Joel, however, was wondering exactly how he possibly could make a move. While feeling confident around her, there was no way to escape the fact that he hadn’t been on a date in at least a year, and he could count the amount of women he’d slept with since Sarah’s mother on one hand. At various points throughout the night, he had considered leaning in to kiss her, but had successfully siked himself out each time. The first time, he’d been interrupted by the pooch who had been jealous of his owner’s attention being focused elsewhere, though he could only blame every other time on his own insecurity.

“Do you want another beer?” Y/n asked as he swallowed the last gulp out of his can, “Or I have wine and pop?”

“Pop,” he scoffed, chest rumbling with quiet laughter.

She raised her hand and slapped his pec as she stood up from the couch, “Fine, you don’t get anything.”

He laughed, watching as she disappeared into the kitchen and shamelessly admiring the shape of her backside in the darkness of the dimly lit living room. He sat there for a few moments, staring at the movie in discontent, sighing as he ran his hand over his face and murmured a nearly silent fuck it, and following after her.

“Is it too late to apologise and get that beer?”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, smirking as she shrugged coyly as she turned and leaned her back against the front of the refrigerator and holding the perspiring can out in front of her, “You’ll have to come get it yourself.”

Joel crossed the small room in two long strides, stopping as the can met his chest, though he paid it little mind as she stepped away from the fridge, pressing a fleeting kiss to his lips. He froze for a second, stomach clenching at the soft touch.

“Sorry,” Y/n whispered, though her tone betrayed how unapologetic she truly was, “Was that okay?”

He didn’t respond, quickly taking the beer out of her grasp and tossing it onto the counter as he cupped her face, capturing her lips with his and pressing her back against the fridge once more. She smiled against his lips, fingers bunching in the material of his plum coloured shirt and tugging him even closer.

His lips were chapped against her own, the telltale sign of a busy man who hadn’t been too concerned with his physical appearance up until now, though she could not picture another kiss that she had received in the last several years that would even compare to Joel’s.

One of his hands fell, fingers splaying around her waist as he pressed even closer, parting his lips as he felt the tip of her tongue prod at the seam and allowing her to seek out his own. He moaned at her taste, fingers wandering to her hip and hesitating, almost as if he had been asking for her permission to move even lower. She grasped his hand, guiding it around to cup her bottom.

Pulling away for air, she giggled softly and fluttered her eyelids open to find him already staring at her with blown pupils. One of her hands slid up his chest, tugging at the collar of his shirt before her fingers trailed over his patchy beard affectionately, “I don’t know if this is too soon, but do you wanna move to my bedroom?”

Joel chuckled at her, squeezing her cheek through her yoga pants, “Lead the way.”

– – –

Joel worried that he might have gone into cardiac arrest as he struggled to catch his breath, back slouched against the headboard as Y/n slumped flush against his chest. The cotton sheets pooled around her hips as she continued to move softly, working them both through the aftershocks of their climaxes. The man sighed in appreciation as her lips continued to slide against his jawline and leave gentle kisses in their wake, her fingers still lost in his dark curls.

Joel’s own hands squeezed her hips as she finally slowed to a stop, helping her slide off of him and smirking to himself at the whine she let out at the loss of contact. She shifted, moving out of his lap and curling into the cool sheets on the bed next to him.

“How was that?” He panted, “Have I done enough to make up for lost time?”

She grinned at him, her own chest rising and falling with her slowing breaths, “I think I recall doing most of the work, actually.”

“Bein’ on top doesn’t mean you were doing any work, sweetheart, I think we both know that.” His eyes fell on the digital alarm clock on her bedside table, grunting to himself as he took note of the late hour, “Shit–how the hell is it ten-thirty already?”

She glanced over to the clock briefly, then back at him, “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

Staring down at her nude form, guilt began to eat away at him as he began to slide off of the mattress and begin gathering his clothes that had been scattered around the room.

“Are you leaving?” His back was turned to her as he pulled on his jeans, though he could only imagine the look on her face from the emotion that dripped from her voice; she was disappointed, facing the reality that she would be abandoned after doing something so intimate.

“I mean…” Joel coughed, “Yeah, I should probably leave. Gotta work early tomorrow, and Sarah’s got soccer practice, and–”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest in an attempt to regain her modesty, “I get it.”

Joel couldn’t help but wonder how many times she’d done this. She seemed disheartened, but not entirely surprised at his decision to head out, as if she was expecting this time to be different from the others–as if she was expecting Joel to be any different from the other shitty guys she’d met since moving to Austin.

“Darlin’,” Joel cooed, coming to sit at the edge of the mattress and cupping her face in his large palms, “It’s not like that. I want nothing more than to stay the night, but I know that I won’t sleep a wink tonight if I do.” His thumb stroked her bottom lip as her mouth slanted into a small, saddened smile. He leaned in, pressing three kisses to her lips, each one longer than the last before pulling back, “Can I get your number? I promise I won’t ask for a third time.”

Y/n smiled at him, kissing him once more before snatching a pen off of the bedside table and scribbling on his hand, “You won’t get it if you ask for a third time, Miller.”

MARCH 12, 1999

Y/n sighed blissfully, gnawing at her lip to prevent any moans of pleasure as Joel worked himself into her over and over, his hips meeting hers with slow, meaningful movements as he did his best to keep both of them quiet. Joel wasn’t normally one for booty calls, though he had hardly seen her in the past few days and couldn’t resist when his mind had wandered while in the shower–and for the first time in what felt like decades, he could rely on the help of soft, feminine touches rather than his own fast and rough tugs.

Her thighs shook, teeth biting into the pillow beneath her face as she pressed her hips back against him and arched her spine in pleasure. She met his thrusts enthusiastically, fingers winding into the sheets tightly.

“Shit,” She gasped, “Joel, I’m gonna–”

“I know,” He rasped, “Shhh baby. Let go, I’ve got you.”

She didn’t hold back, allowing the white hot pleasure to run through her veins, muffling her cries in the plushness of the pillow. Her walls clenched around him, gripping him for everything that she could manage as he fucked her through it, head rolled back in pleasure as his own orgasm teetered over the edge. His fingers tightened around her hips, hauling her back against him a few more times before his seed painted the inside of the condom.

His hands slid up from her hips, one pressing on her back to force her to lay flat against the mattress while the other cupped the soft flesh of her belly to roll her over. Joel took in her figure, eyes scanning her face for any signs of discomfort before dropping to her breasts; the man was absolutely entranced by the shape of her breasts, eagerly pawing at them during makeout sessions and suckling at them with the utmost love and desire as he fucked her. She smiled at him tiredly, hooded eyes admiring his own figure as he slipped out of her, sliding off of the bed and disappearing into the ensuite.

When he returned, he wore a pair of black boxers and carried a maroon washcloth in his hand, carefully parting her legs and sliding the cloth through her folds, puffy and sore from his touch. He whispered an entirely disingenuous apology as he pressed lightly against her abused clit, chuckling to himself as she jumped. Tossing the cloth aside, he settled into the mattress next to her, sliding an arm around her waist and tugging her into his side, sighing in relief at the physical contact.

The rising sun had slowly begun to peek through the blinds, filling the room with a soft glow in the aftermath of the third round. Y/n glanced at the clock on the far wall, sighing to herself as reality settled into her bones. She hadn’t intended on staying so long, especially after how eagerly the both of them had initiated the first round, having allowed herself to remain at his side until she felt his member begin to grow against her thigh once more. Now, after taking him inside of her three times over the past six hours, she knew that she would eventually need to get up and leave–a habit that they both had and hated when they were finished.

She pressed careful kisses into his flesh, lips moulding to the sweaty skin of his shoulder and neck affectionately while her palm rubbed circles into his firm chest. Joel nuzzled his head into her hair, his own lips pressing to the crown of her head as he, too, appreciated the afterglow.

Y/n’s body and heart screamed at her as she finally pulled herself away from him, hopping out of the bed and collecting her clothing from the floor. Joel watched her with sunken eyes, his attempt to remain stoic as he easily recognised what she was doing proving fruitless.

“You don’t–you don’t gotta go just yet,” he called to her, desperation lacing his voice, “Don’t gotta be at the site till eleven tomorrow–”

“Today,” she corrected, “And that’s in seven hours. Besides, I don’t wanna fall asleep and risk having to run into Sarah. I should probably leave.”

He nodded slowly, continuing to watch her as she dressed and fixed her appearance, preparing herself mentally and physically for her four A.M. walk of shame. Joel wanted to call her back to bed again, to convince her to stay with him and promise breakfast in the morning, but instead watched helplessly as she disappeared into the dark hallway, and closed his eyes disappointedly at the sound of the front door closing behind her.

JUNE 2, 1999

Golden rays of sun peeked through the blinds, trailing up the length of the bed with each passing moment before finally gracing over the soft skin of the woman next to him. Joel laid in his bed as still as possible, one arm around her shoulders to keep her flush against his chest, savouring the intimate, domestic moment before it would eventually come to an end–it always did.

The alarm clock flashed the time tauntingly at him, as if mocking him for wanting to keep her there for much longer than he knew he could. This was undoubtedly the latest she had stayed in his bed; it was nearing six A.M. and she had yet to stir from her deep slumber.

His eyes trailed the length of her bare back, his fingers pressing gently at the indent of her spine as he pushed her body impossibly closer to her and bathing himself in the feeling of her nude body against his own. Joel resisted the urge to shake the growing ache out of his leg as pins and needles crawled up the length of his limb, too afraid to move and wake her–he knew what would come once her eyes had opened, as she had done it countless times now.

It was the twitch of her fingers against the soft flesh of his belly that alerted him to her growing consciousness, nails following the pattern of hair that covered his abdomen softly, drawing a quiet moan of delight from the man beneath her. He felt the curve of her lips against his shoulder, turning his head to meet her eyes as they fluttered open.

“Morning, cowboy,” Her throat was dry and her voice was scratchy, but her words still held the power of causing an eruption of butterflies in his gut.

“Morning,” He leaned closer, the tips of his nose brushing her own before she swatted him away, covering her mouth self-consciously and mumbling something about morning breath. Joel chuckled at her, moving her hand away and planting a soft, closed-mouth kiss against her lips.

Her smile grew, hazy vision flickering around the sun-lit bedroom as realisation dawned on her, “What time is it?”

Joel’s own smile faltered as he cleared his throat, glancing over at the alarm clock again, “Five-to-six.”

“Shit,” She groaned, a hand settling on her forehead, “I should probably leave. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Joel shook his head at her, “You ain’t got nothing to apologise for. I like having you here.”

She pecked his lips again, fondness creeping through her at the man’s admission, “I like being here. But I should go before Sarah wakes up.”

Joel caught her arm as she moved to crawl out of the bed, “Stay.”

“What?”

“Sarah knows you’ve been coming around and leaving early in the morning.” He told her, thumb smoothing circles against her wrist, “She says she’s happy for me, but she said that she won’t approve until you start bringing that damn dog of yours over here when you come.”

Y/n chuckled, her eyes growing a thin red rim along her waterline, “What are you saying?”

“I’m asking you to stay. Every damn night you spend here, you go rushing out like this is just a quick fuck, but I think we both know that it’s a lot more than that. Just come back to bed, please.”

Y/n shook her head at him, glancing over at the rising sun through the blinds in contemplation before she finally shrugged, crawling back into the bed and settling against his naked form with a sigh, her hand resting on his chest as she massaged small circles into his sweaty flesh. Both of them relaxed into one another, enjoying the silence of the early morning and dreading the unavoidable fate of the alarm going off in the coming hour.

NOVEMBER 27, 1999

Y/n tapped her nails against the hardwood of the tabletop rhythmically, doing her best not to make her dissociation too clear as her friends and family chattered back and forth. Her mother was busy on her left hand side, sharing dozens of her favourite childhood photographs to Y/n’s friends with a fondness that only a mother could have, while the seat to her left was empty. The watch that she’d received as a gift from her parents sat on her wrist, the time ticking away as grief settled in her stomach, the realisation that he simply wasn’t coming eating away at her pride.

Her birthday was not something that she generally liked to celebrate, but knowing that her parents, siblings, and a few members of her extended family had orchestrated a trip to visit and celebrate with her had her counting down the days, especially after she had convinced her unofficial boyfriend to join them for dinner at one of the nicest wallet-friendly restaurants in Austin. Now, as she sat silently and watched as her friends laughed and cooed over possibly the most embarrassing photos of her while picking at their slices of birthday cake, her mind only wandered to where exactly he was, and how much more fun she would be having if she were warding him off of any of those photographs–especially all of the ones from her junior high years.

She hadn’t had the chance to speak to him at all that day, having woken up after he had already left for work and dropped Sarah off at school. At the time, Y/n had smiled to herself, thanking him mentally for allowing her to sleep in on her birthday, though she was beginning to wonder if she should have taken the lack of birthday wishes as a sign.

She actively avoided Stephanie’s gaze, wanting to escape the oncoming I told you so, and made as little eye contact as possible with her mother, who watched her sympathetically, and her father, who silently raged over the presence of the empty chair. Y/n now felt embarrassed over how much she’d actually gushed over the man to her family before dinner, wondering if maybe she was more invested in him than he was in her. After all, he had yet to officially ask her to be his girlfriend, despite the fact that she and Manny had taken up residence in his home at least four nights a week and that she had been included in more recent movie nights with him and Sarah.

Maybe she was reading into it too much–something must have happened. Something happened to Sarah, or maybe Tommy had been locked up again. There was no way that Joel had forgotten her birthday, there was simply no way.

– – –

Joel’s feet ached, crying out in pain with every step and sighing in relief as he finally kicked off his heavy boots. The crew that he’d brought on for his most recent and highest paying job to date had given him hell that day, leaving him aching for nothing more than a hot shower and a peaceful night at home with his best girls. He hated having to tack on extra hours to his day, but not arriving home until after ten was something that he would have to deal with in order to finish the job, and he was hoping to save up to take Y/n and Sarah on a little getaway for a weekend in the near future.

The kitchen was dim when he stepped in, and he was somewhat surprised when he discovered no plate of food left for him in the microwave, nor was there a pan of leftovers in the fridge. Instead, there was a single empty carton of a microwavable dinner on the counter along with an empty can of Pepsi. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, he shrugged it off, though he had grown accustomed to Y/n bringing dinner over and making sure that it was ready for him on days that he worked late.

Soft footsteps rushed down the stairs, Sarah rounding the corner with a wide grin on her face as she held a small piece of paper in her hands.

“Hey babygirl,” Joel kissed her head softly as he moved into the living room, even more confused when he did not find Y/n curled up on the couch with a stack of her textbooks, as she so often did while waiting for him to return.

“Hi dad,” Sarah’s smile dropped, glancing back into the entryway in confusion, “Where’s Y/n? I made this card at school today but I figured I’d wait until after you guys came back to give it to her.”

The blood in Joel’s veins ran cold, his heart skipping a beat at the sudden realisation of why his house appeared to be so void of his girlfriend, “Fuck.”

“Dad?” Sarah’s wide eyes narrowed, all too used to her father’s undiagnosed case of short-term memory loss, though he had never ever forgotten something like this before.

“Shit,” He swore again, snatching his keys off of the counter and rushing to jam his feet back into his uncomfortable boots, “Sarah, go to bed. I’ll be back later tonight.”

The girl watched helplessly as her father raced out the door, tears welling in her eyes as she stared down at the happy picture she had pasted into the card and frowning as she feared the worst.

– – –

Joel arrived at the restaurant just before eleven. He knew it was a long shot, as the reservation was for seven-thirty, which he had purposefully written down and stuck to the fridge so that he would not forget. The few remaining staff inside shook their heads in pity at the man, quickly coming to understand his situation as he rushed inside, asking about the reservation with a bouquet of flowers in his grasp.

His shoulders slumped as he parked in his driveway, trudging across the lawn into the neighbouring yard and knocking firmly on the door. He waited a few moments, cursing quietly as he got no response and knocking again.

His frown deepened when the door swung open, a fuming Stephanie standing in his way. Her face burned scarlet, fists clenched at her side as she took in Joel’s pitiful appearance. She took a step forward, joining Joel on the front step and closing the door behind her.

“The fuck do you want?”

“Where’s Y/n?” He asked, ignoring her bluntness.

“She doesn’t wanna talk to you,” the girl sneered at him. “It’s one thing to stand someone up, even to forget their birthday, but to embarrass her like that in front of her family?” She scoffed, “you know, I warned her about you, but I took no pleasure in being right. You should have seen her tonight, barely spoke at all.”

The metaphorical knife in Joel’s gut twisted at her words, the fist clenching the bouquet tightening even further around the stems. He could picture her; all dolled up, chatting with her family as she eagerly awaited his arrival, her pretty smile dampening as time passed and eventual tears in her eyes as she realised the truth–he had forgotten about her.

“Just let me talk to her,” he begged, “Please.”

Stephanie shook her head, “I think it’s best if you never show your face on my property again, Miller.”

“Joel?” Both of their eyes turned at the sound of Y/n’s voice, finding her peeking around the door curiously. “Steph, can you give us a minute?”

The woman sent Joel one final glare, patting her roommate on the shoulder before slipping back into the house.

If the knowledge of what he’d done hadn’t been enough, Y/n’s appearance was the final blow to his gut. Her eyes were bloodshot, cheeks swollen and marked with visible remnants of tears. She wrung her fingers together anxiously, keeping her gaze lowered in shame as she closed the door behind her and turned to face him.

“Baby–”

“Don’t.” Y/n interrupted, “Just explain.”

He sniffled, “I can’t explain it, or excuse it. We got held up at work, and I really need this job to be done and over with already. I’m so sorry, baby.”

She shook her head, lifting her sleeve to wipe at the underside of her nose, “You didn’t even say goodbye before you left this morning. Did you even remember at all?”

Joel bit his lip, “I’m sorry. Let me–”

“Joel,” Her voice cracked, “I love you.” His heart soared as she spoke those words for the first time, then shattered as she continued, “I understand that I’m not your first priority–that’ll always be Sarah and I can’t blame you for that. But, fuck, you suggested the restaurant, Joel. You spoke to my mom over the phone and promised her the best steak in town, and she sure seemed to like it, but you weren’t even there. I won’t ever be your first priority, but I can’t be your last, either.”

“Y/n–”

“I think my cousins liked it, you know.” She continued, wiping at her cheeks, “They’re the type to pray for your downfall, and I’m sure they were loving every second of the dinner once everyone realised that you weren’t coming. Hell, all I did all night was talk about how amazing you were, and then–” Y/n cut herself off with a quiet sob. “You should probably leave.”

“Don’t do this,” Joel cupped her face, dropping the flowers to the deck recklessly as he wiped the tears away from her cheeks with his thumbs, “Tell me what to do. Hit me, yell at me, do something, but don’t ask me to walk away.”

She looked into his eyes, and for a moment, Joel felt hopeful that she might actually listen to him, though all hope was quickly diminished as he removed herself from his grasp, reaffirming her statement as she stepped back into the house.

“You should probably leave.”

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