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gutsby · 5 months

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Wingman

Pairing: Himbo!Joel x Reader

Summary: Your bestie braves the tampon aisle for you.

Warnings: 18+. Period crackfic starring Himbo!Joel—don’t take it too seriously. R has a uterus that hates her. Mentions of blood, cramps, & hangover-induced puking. Dirty talk, f!masturbation. One (1) Mean Girls reference.

Word count: 1.7k

You were fucked ten ways to Wednesday if you didn’t get your hands on some soap, a steamer, and a supersized box of maxi-pads in the span of the next eleven minutes.

Joel Miller moved like molasses on a flat slab of granite.

“WILL YOU HURRY— THE FUCK— UP?”

Your cheeks were hot. The night air was cold.

Every other word that managed to claw out of your throat was punctuated by a breath—your stomach clenched, and the sex organ below it was in hysterics.

Joel continued to lace up his loafer, clumsy as ever.

“O-kay, okay,” he hummed, “Steamer, soap, and, uh…”

“Pads!”

“Uh-huh. Right. So what kinda…blood stuff is it, again?”

The words were like an aspersion on his tongue. At the ripe old age of forty-seven, Joel still hadn’t quite learned to jibe with the menstrual product lingo, and it showed.

“Heavy flow. Any brand. With wings,” you hissed.

“Boneless or traditional?”

And if he hadn’t been standing outside the truck, foot propped up against the driver’s seat while he tied his shoe, you likely would’ve smacked him upside the head. The glare you gave him was sufficiently vicious to extinguish the smirk, though. Your hand made a fist in the front of your dress, and you groaned, leaning inward.

Joel got the picture and finished his bunny ears quick.

“Sorry.”

Then, a little more sheepish as he straightened up,

“I’m goin’. Be just a minute.”

And he was off.

Your body curled into a ball as soon as he left. It cried in pain, to nothing and no one around but that fugly slut, the nastiest skank bitch you’d ever met, your uterus.

There was no way you and Joel were making it to this rehearsal dinner. You needed to be at the venue by 7:00, the clock on the dash read 6:11, and you were, currently, twenty miles shy of Fredericksburg with a rag between your legs and your best friend scouring the local H-E-B.

That afternoon you’d been running late, so of course you’d thrown on your thin, satin, pre-wedding-ready dress before you left—and forgotten a change of clothes. Joel had been hungover from all the batshit bachelor party antics, so of course you’d had to stop three times along the way just so he could throw up on the side of the road. And, though your friend was many, many things, discreet was not one of them, so of course he’d told you, point-blank, when he saw you reaching for something in the backseat with your butt sticking up:

“You been pissin’ tomato juice or somethin’?”

And you’d looked back in abject horror.

Of course your period had come a week early and made you bleed straight through your bright yellow dress.

Maria was your best friend. You were her maid of honor. Tommy’s groomsmen happened to be the most fuckable bunch you’d ever seen—save for Joel—so there was no way you’d be caught dead at that dinner with the flag of Japan on your ass. And Maria had bought the dress just for you, so you felt like you had to get this bloodstain out.

You lifted your head to peer out the window. Even with the help of a fistful of ibuprofen, you could barely move.

6:29

“Dude, where are you?!”

It was like your phone and the FaceTime call to Joel had just materialized on their own. The man on the screen was blinking slow. Ogling something in front of him.

“So ‘L’ stands for…long?” he said after a beat.

“No, that’s light, Joel, I need a heavy one.”

“This one’s got cardboard in it, I think.”

“That’s a tampon applicator, dipshit.”

In a blink, Joel’s eyes flitted to his phone. His nostrils flared, and he met your gaze with a scowl of his own.

“Well how the hell am I supposed to know that? Only stuck two— three things in a pussy before and it sure as fuck wasn’t cotton,” he griped, and if he were any less mature he likely would’ve rolled his eyes. Drama king.

You winced as another cramp rolled through you. You shook your head and tried to regain your composure.

“Just find a heavy-flow. pad. with wings. for me. Please.”

Joel sighed and turned back to the shelf, eyes searching.

It shouldn’t have been this hard, but it was. You had no doubt Joel had never willingly touched a pussy product before in his life, so the road ahead was treacherous. Silently, you felt the urge to tell him he had no business being in pussy at all if he didn’t bother to learn what came out of one every month, but you let him cook.

His dark, greyish brows drew together in concentration. He leaned forward and reached for a box. Then stopped.

Went low to grab another, before pausing to show you.

“Very close, Joel. That’s a pantyliner.”

You felt somewhat like a mother showing a headstrong four-year-old how to copy shapes onto paper. No, darling, that’s a diva cup—and be careful with that crayon. Joel stood and he stewed and, by the look in his eyes, you’d already resigned yourself to another ten minutes of this back-and-forth rummaging at least.

Then you shifted in your seat, pushing your legs down a bit. They rubbed, of course. In spite of the pain that had seized your whole lower half, you felt a sweet, dull pulse.

You stared hard at Joel’s face on-screen to make sure he hadn’t seen it in yours, but damn that friction felt nice.

Sensitivity elevated with the influx of hormones, no doubt, you sat tight and tried to enjoy the feeling on purpose for a moment. You slowly sucked in a breath.

“Aw, hell, there’s just too many’a these damn boxes.”

You flexed your thigh muscles and let out a sigh.

“I don’t know how y’all do it,” Joel grumbled.

Keep looking, Miller. Just keep looking.

Slowly, your hips began to stir, and one small grain of pleasure gave way to a jolt—a twist in the pit of your belly that made the pain less grating. You leaned into it more.

Holding your phone, you could feel when Joel let out a frustrated groan. The sound low and almost enticing.

Wait.

“Gross,” you said out loud, half-whispered.

You couldn’t help it. Joel was one of your closest friends; a man who loved beer die, Pall Malls, and Keith Whitley like nobody’s business and gave suffocating bear hugs whenever he was sweaty just to gross you out. You weren’t supposed to find men like that attractive.

But when the grit of his voice was just so nice…

“What?” Joel stopped to look down again.

“What?” you shot back, instantly.

A frown tugged at his lips.

“What’s ‘gross’? Me?”

Not…exactly, no.

More disgusted with yourself than anyone else, you clamped your legs together and shook your head. You tried to swallow, as if the action might suck the pleasure down with it, but the hot, throbbing sensation only grew.

You were practically grinding into the towel that had been stuffed between your thighs when you heard:

“Wings!”

An exceptionally proud Joel displayed a box of extra heavy-duty maxi-pads, with wings. He was grinning.

You weren’t sure if you thanked him next, congratulated the man, or what. You probably strung some words together and tried to return the smile as best you could, but who knew? The next thing you saw was that the line had gone dead, the truck was silent, and all that could be heard above the hum of the engine were your moans.

You braced yourself against the seat and rolled your hips even harder. Out of habit, you caught your lip between your teeth to prevent a louder sound from escaping, but then you remembered there was no one to hear you but you—for now. Your palm pressed flat on the dashboard, your knees squeezed even closer, and your vision flooded with soft, minuscule pinpricks of an all-too-familiar hue.

The only thing new to you here was Joel—the thought of him had never crossed your mind in moments like these.

But now you were closing your eyes, humping the seat with nothing between your body and the old, weathered upholstery but a scrap of fabric. And you were moaning his name. Imagining a face that was littered with coarse, grey stubble—you might’ve teased him for that once or twice before—and lips that were soft. So soft against your own that you wouldn’t think twice if he tried to slip his tongue inside and hold the sides of your face as he filled your cunt to the brim. In fact, Joel’s mouth would be a welcome distraction. Knowing how foul he was in even friendly confab, he’d undoubtedly be whispering the most vile things in your ear while he fucked you.

Reminding you, quietly, that you made such a pretty cocksleeve for him—why didn’t we try this sooner?— and how you’d be the sweetest thing if you just gave his cock another squeeze and made yourself cum all over it.

The mental image of that alone was inducement enough.

You felt a hot, euphoric band of something start to give way inside you. It tightened up, twisted—then snapped. Your mouth fell open and your thighs clenched tighter, grinding desperately in tandem with a pace you’d hoped Joel might’ve set if he were laying there underneath you. You clung to one last thought of him gripping your hips and bruising your walls with the force of his cock driving in and out, over and over again until, eventually, his cum was leaking out through each fluid thrusting movement. It was all your body could take, conjuring thoughts of his load spilling into you and onto him in warm, wet, sticky—

Whistling.

Someone was whistling outside. Walking up to the truck.

You were still coming down from the staggering heights of your climax when the driver’s side door swung open. You blinked furiously, as though to drive all the filth and depravity and need from your eyes before he could see.

It didn’t matter.

Joel was too amped up off a white plastic baggy to be concerned with much else as he plopped down beside you and smiled—beamed, really. Completely oblivious.

Your extremities were still twitching with the residuum of bliss when he reached for your hand. His eyes somehow warmer than they’d been all that day, they sparkled and shone and crinkled at the corners in a way that seemed to say the words before his mouth had uttered a sound.

“I got three boxes to be safe…”

Joel was really too sweet.

“…and some chocolate for your cramps…”

Always so considerate.

“…and you look real pretty when you cum, by the way.”

This motherfucker.

#THINKING ABOUT……..….....….BIG DUMB IDIOT MEN AND OPEN-MOUTHED KISSING 💔💔#AND A LITTLE BIT OF CHICKEN FRIED #COLD BEER ON A FRIDAY NIGHT #A PAIR OF JEANS THAT FIT JUST RIGHT #AND THE RADIO UUUUUUUUP 😫#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller tlou #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic

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ziggyzolch · 6 months

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Queen Bee-atch Ⅶ (Regina George x Reader)

Warnings: None, lighthearted chapter tbh

✮✮✮

The sound of a marker cap popping open echoes across the walls of Regina’s room. Squeaking could be heard from the other side of the house with how aggressively she was writing.

She ignores her mothers insistent knocking as she pulls out a pair of scissors and cuts the photo of her and Cady in half. Pulling out a glue stick, Regina aggressively sticks the photo in the middle of the page.

She takes a deep breath, calming herself down and sitting back to admire her work. ’This girl is the nastiest skank bitch I've ever met. Do not trust her. She is a fugly slut!’ Captioned above a picture of her stuck in the burn book.

Those byotches had no idea what was coming. ✮✮✮

This party was worse than anything she could’ve imagined. Someone broke her mothers vase, Gretchen and Karen wouldn’t leave her alone, and, worst of all, she threw up on Aaron!

“Aaron, wait!” Her heels were digging into the backs of her feet as she chased after her longtime crush, wiping the puke off her mouth.

Aaron angled his body towards Cady, walking backwards and pointing his finger at her, “You are a clone of Regina.”

Cady sighed before perking up, “Call me!”

Aaron ignored her, wiping her vomit off his shirt as he disappeared around the corner.

At the sound of a motor, Cady scrunches her eyebrows, turning towards the source of the mechanical whirring. She curses under her breath as she watches you, Damien, and Janis approach on a motor scooter.

“You dirty little liar.” Janis jumps off of the scooter, stomping towards Cady while you and Damien spin around, unable to stop the scooter.

“I’m sorry! I can explain-”

“Explain how you didn’t invite us to your party?”

You pipe up, “Janis, I’m getting dizzy!”

She glares at you as Cady replies, “I had to act like I hated you! You told me to pretend to be plastic.”

“This,” Janis looks Cady up and down, “Is not pretend. You’re plastic. Cold, hard, shiny plastic.”

Damien warns Janis about his curfew before she continues, “Did you have an awesome time? Did you drink awesome shooters and listen to awesome music and just sit around soaking up each others awesomeness?”

Cady’s face contorts in anger, “You made me like this! All because of some bullshit petty 6th grade drama!”

Janis scoffs, raising her arms up in exasperation, “Oh my god! At least me and Regina George know we’re mean. You still try to act all innocent! You got what you wanted. Aaron broke up with Regina, yet you still mess with her. You know why? Because you’re a mean girl! You’re a bitch!” She throws her artwork at Cady, “You can have this, it won a prize.”

Janis gets back onto the moving scooter, almost falling off when you shake the vehicle getting off. Cady’s eyes widen when she sees you rushing towards her, preparing herself for another scolding when you run past her into the house party. Janis and Damien groan, turning back around and spinning.

Cady’s eyes widen when she catches you walking out with two half full bottles of vodka.

“Alright, let’s go.” You jump back onto Damien's lap, adjusting your hold on the two bottles. Cady runs her hands through her hair, letting out a breath. She starts walking back into her house when she hears Damien's voice,

“I want my pink shirt back!”

✮✮✮

“Wanda literally solos all of…” You trail off when a group of girls rush past you gasping at their phones as you walk through the doors. You and Janis turn to each other in confusion before Damien runs up to both of you and drags you further into school. “Check what I sent you!”

Janis pulls out her phone at Damien’s request, her jaw dropping, “No. Fucking. Way.”

She turns her phone towards you. Squinting your eyes at her screen, you read,

“Damien, too gay to…function?! That's only okay when we say it!” You turn away from her phone, pointing and watching the commotion with your friends. Looking around, you ask,

“Have you guys seen Regina?”

Before either could answer, the sound of the fire alarm and sprinklers going off startles everyone.

“All junior girls report to the gymnasium, immediately! Immediately!”

Damien puts on his hood, before walking alongside you and Janis to the gym. Taking your seats on the bleachers at the back, you open your phone to look through the different pages of the burn book.

“Hah! Check this out: ‘Trang Pak is a grotsky little byotch’. It’s like a foreign language.” Janis and Damien giggle as you continue scrolling, ignoring the pang in your heart when you scroll past your own page, and scrunching your eyebrows in confusion at Regina’s. Didn’t she make this? Speaking of...

You stand up, looking around for her, when you catch Cady walking in awkwardly. She makes eye contact with you, offering you a little smile that you return. As shitty as what she did was, it wasn’t entirely on her. Plus she was about to go through way shittier with the way people kept staring at her.

She turns looks next to you, still smiling, when Janis catches her eye and flips her the bird.

The stare off was interrupted by Principal Duvall starting his speech, going on and on about how he oughta cancel our spring fling. You weren’t really paying attention until the end.

“Who has any lady problems they’d like to share?” You snort when you catch Gretchen pushing Karen's hand down.

Another girl you barely recognize raises her hand, “Somebody wrote in that book that I’m lying about being a virgin because I use super jumbo tampons,”

You, Janis and Damien start hitting each other, holding your noses and trying not to laugh when she continues, “I can’t help it if I’ve got a heavy flow and a wide set vagina.”

Your face was turning red, barely holding it together when Damien snorts. You bark out a laugh, slapping your hand over your mouth when everyone turns to look at you.

“Yeah, I can’t do this.” Principal Duvall sighs and urges Ms. Norbury to continue for him.

“Alright, everybody close your eyes,” She pauses, “Raise your hand if you’ve ever had a girl say something mean about you behind your back. Now open your eyes.”

You look around the room, everybody had their hands raised. She continues, “Close your eyes again. Raise your hand if you’ve ever said anything mean about a friend behind their back,”

You peek an eye open, raising your hand when you see everyone else's hands raised. You catch Regina doing the same. There she is. “Now open.”

You, Janis and Damien all collectively gasp when you see each other's hands raised.

“Seems like there’s been a little girl-on-girl crime here, let’s do a couple exercises...” Ms. Norbury had all of you confront your friends on what bothered you.

After a couple of confrontations and arguments, Regina stands up with her arms crossed, “Can I just say that I don’t think we have a clique problem at this school. Some of us don’t need to be here! We’re just victims.”

Ms. Norbury smiles, “That's probably true. How many of you have felt personally victimized by Regina George?” You slide down your chair, groaning in second-hand embarrassment when everybody raises their hands.

Janis rolls her eyes and pulls you back up to sit properly.

“Cady, is there anything you’d like to own up to?” Ms. Norbury calls out.

“No.” Cady replies

“You never made up a rumor about anyone?”

Cady looks around, shuffling in her seat, “No.”

“Nothing you want to apologize for?”

“...No.”

Ms. Norbury says something to Cady that you couldn’t catch before moving on. “Alright. Everybody up.”

She made us gather around a little platform, letting whoever wanted to go up and apologize for whoever they’ve hurt. It was absolutely horrible trying to hold in your laugh as the apologies began, especially when Karen fell forward into the trust fall instead of backwards. Someone you don’t recognize goes up, crying and apologizing.

“She doesn’t even go here!” Damien shouts before pushing you in front of him and pulling the strings of his hoodie. You stand on your tiptoes, attempting to conceal him as Janis moves closer to you. "I can't see shit from here," You mumble, trying to look between the girls stood in front of you.

Wanting to get a better view, you decide to move towards the front of the crowd. You pushed yourself between the girls, ignoring the curses thrown your way. Karen noticed you walking towards her and Gretchen and moved to the side as Gretchen went up, making space for you. Your smile dropped as Gretchen began her speech.

Oh wow. Gretchen was horrible at apologies.

Gretchen turns and falls backwards. Entranced by the train wreck that was Gretchen's half-assed apology, you hadn’t noticed people scattering away from you and Karen. Ms. Norbury gasps.

You all fall to the ground, Gretchen and Karen landing on top of you. Karen gets up after Gretchen, helping you up after her and adjusting your disheveled hair. You raise your eyebrows as she begins squeezing your cheeks with a far away look in her eyes before Gretchen starts pulling her arm. Snapping out of whatever trance she was in, she lets Gretchen drag her away, offering you a smile and a wave goodbye,

They could never make you hate her.

Janis pats your shoulder as she walks past you and up onto the platform, beginning her speech. Your eyes widen as she begins to list everything she’d done to sabotage Regina.

“Ay ay ay ay ay!” She ends her speech and jumps into the crowd as they all cheered her on. You were about to join when a teary eyed Regina pushed past you.

"Regina!" You and Cady called at the same time. You looked at each other for a moment before running towards Regina.

Cady keeps walking as you stop at the edge of the street, leaving them to hash it out when you feel a hand on your shoulder. A breathless Janis was standing next to you. You pat her back, “Nice speech, you should join Model UN.” Janis shakes her head in disgust, making you laugh until you notice a school bus speeding towards Regina.

"No!" Janis attempts to pull you back as you rush forward, jumping towards Regina and pushing her out of the way.

You both land on the harsh asphalt, groaning.

“God! Who drives that fucking fast in a school zone?!” You had your hand on your chest, trying to come down from the rush of adrenaline. “At least no one got hurt,”

Sitting up and looking around, you notice everyone’s eyes on you, “What? Why is everyone looking at me?”

Regina’s scream startles you. “Oh my God!” She says while standing up and pointing at your leg. You raise an eyebrow, turning to where she was pointing.

Oh god.

“Is the bone supposed to stick out like that?” You attempt to joke, before promptly blacking out. The last thing you see being Cady, Regina, and Janis all running towards you.

✮✮✮

Long-ish A/N: I used the gymnasium scene from the original mean girls, its lowkey funnier. I know this chapter has a criminal lack of Regina, but I promise I'll make up for it next chapter. I just needed to move the story along.

I made a little sketch of how I imagine R, but I made her vague in the fic on purpose! You get to imagine her however you want. This is just how I imagine her.

Will I acknowledge the fact that she looks like me? nope. Will I acknowledge the fact that I left out an eye? yolo.

Anyways, thank you for reading!

Tag list: @itzyyyyyydaaaaaa (if u wanna get tagged in the next chapter reply under this post!)

#regina george x reader #regina george imagine #mean girls imagines #mean girls 2024 #fanfic #wlw #regina george #mean girls #renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #regina george x you #mean girls the musical #regina george is a lesbian #wlw fiction #regina george icons #x reader

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