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#finally get to celebrate him on his own special day!!!!!!
rafecameroninterlude · 2 months
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pogue!sweetheart!reader surprising rafe with a birthday cake and he’s just like “????? for me????” bc no one has ever celebrated his birthday or made it special for him 🥺
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warnings: fluff, tiny bit of angst
“don’t look!” you laughed, currently struggling to keep your hands over rafe’s eyes as you two stepped into your camper. “mm, it smells good in here.” he hummed. you were practically buzzing with excitement, your smile reaching your ears as you slowly pulled away from him. “okay..” you started, “i know you said you didn’t want to celebrate today, but i couldn’t help myself,” you pecked his cheek, “you could open.”
rafe should’ve known you would go all out for him, his lips pursing together as he took in the sight of his own personal cake and gift basket on the counter. your smile faltered at the look on his face. “is everything okay? do you not like it?” rafe blinked, swallowing thickly as he glanced over at you. “you did this for me?” the disbelief in his voice pulled at your heart strings.
“of course.” you nodded. he walked up to the counter, getting a closer look at the cake. you knew how much he loved the your buttercream frosting, so of course you had to include it just for him. ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY R♡FE’ was also written on top in baby blue lettering. “this is.. wow.” he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. the room fell silent, your heart pounding out of your chest as you waited for rafe to say something else.
as if sensing your uncertainty, rafe finally looked up at you, the worried look on your face making him feel terrible. “i’m so sorry, babe, it’s just- i’ve never had this before.” he pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss into the crown of your head. “i love it so much, i promise,” his large hands rubbed down your back, “no one has ever done anything like this for me.” he laughed softly. “no one has ever surprised you for your birthday?!” you exclaimed, looking up at him. “never. my birthday is just another regular day.” you gasped, not believing the words coming out of his mouth.
“no, it’s not!” you pulled away, picking up the cake. if someone told rafe that on this day last year, he would have the prettiest little thing holding up a cake she made just for him, telling him that his birthday is special, he wouldn’t believe them. “i don’t think i could accept this-” you were quick to cut him off, “i swear i’ll cry if you dont eat it.” rafe wanted to believe your threat was a joke, but he didn’t dare chance it. “okay, okay..” he surrendered, finally letting this whole thing be okay with him.
“well..” you gazed up at him, “what do you think?” rafe met your eyes, seeing nothing but pure love and adoration staring back at him. “i think that i need to marry you.” you smiled as rafe took a finger full of icing and popped the digit in his mouth. “fuck, that’s amazing.” he took the cake out of your hands, placing it back on the counter before grabbing two forks. “don’t dig into it yet, i still have to sing you happy birthday.” rafe put the fork down, now pacing around excitedly as you motioned towards the gift basket.
“open it.” you couldn’t help the huge smile from adorning your face as rafe took each item out one by one. cologne, a few new shirts, his favorite snacks, a homemade birthday card, and..
“are these your panties?”
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joonieskinks · 22 days
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happy two years on tumblr to me today!! 🥳
here’s my favorite shy boy to celebrate
simon ghost riley who is too nervous to talk to you or approach you. you’re just so naturally gorgeous and put together, he’s afraid he’ll say something wrong and scare you off. so he just continues to observe from afar. kinda feels pathetic, like he’s back in elementary school, but he can’t help it.
you’re the pretty diplomatic relations officer on the 141 team, a newer addition who helps with all the paperwork and policy. you work more with captain price, however you conduct meetings sometimes and talk to the guys here and there for their opinions.
simon ghost riley who still remembers the first day you spoke to him, everything you said, hell, the first time you so much as looked into his eyes. your gorgeous smile turned his tummy upside down and he has the stunning image of you engraved into his mind. little did he know, you thought he had the prettiest, bluest eyes you’ve ever seen.
you make excuses just to touch him too, handing papers over for him to sign and slipping your hand over his. or going to walk past him but then holding onto his arm to tell him good morning. simon thinks you do this with everyone because you’re so open and kind like that, but you save all your special attention for him only.
simon ghost riley who one day has had enough of johnny stealing your attention and asking you out right in front of him. he’s sick and tired of kyle making up the dumbest reasons to include you in physical training just to touch you and “help your form”.
enough of that shit.
so he takes things into his own hands and comes storming into your meeting with price. both of you look up rather surprised at the sudden and brooding intrusion, right in the middle of some document reviewing-
“we need to talk.” simon declares, eyes unmoving from yours, intense, desperate… if didn’t have your understanding of him, you’d think he wanted to beat you up.
“riley, this is hardly the appropriate time, we-“
“it’s okay, captain. we’ll be quick, yeah?” you nod at simon and he immediately turns around to the hallway. you get up slowly, looking at price and he matches your “okay then” look.
simon ghost riley who is pacing, he’s cracking his fingers and playing with his belt loops. it suddenly hits him that he’s finally gonna be alone with the woman he finds absolutely irresistible. can he control himself? will he make a fool out of himself? will you reciprocate if he goes through with this? if you don’t, then what? fuck.
“simon?” you start, closing the office door behind you, leaving you two alone. “everything okay?”
he’s fawning over your big doe eyes, full of concern and empathy for him, utterly focused on him. it makes the crotch of his pants tighten and he has the strongest urge to pull you to him. he’d take you in the hallway up against the wall here if you’d let him. but he’s getting ahead of himself-
“uh- yea. good.” he manages to stutter out. god, he’s never felt this nervous in his life. for once it feels like he truly cares what will happen to him. he cares for you, wants something with you. well, only one way to find out. no more stalling. enough of this shit.
simon ghost riley who strides towards you, taking off his mask and bringing your head into his hands. he connects his lips to yours before you can process. you just feel warmth and you lean into him. his fingers dive into your hair, deepening the kiss and he’s over the moon. you actually seem to want him too, you’re reciprocating and his nerves are eagerly replaced by thoughts of you moaning out his name as your hands move to his waist.
when you pull back for air, you’re met with Simon’s eyes glazed over by lust for you. his lips are pink, puffy and he’s still looking at yours like he’s not had his fill of them yet. “want you… ‘long time” he murmurs out before reconnecting. he’s overcome by your taste, your warmth and your fingers slipping into his pants. it makes him moan into your mouth, his hands flying to your hips, pushing you roughly up against the wall.
simon ghost riley who only raises his eyebrows as if to ask the question and you’re rapidly nodding. yes, yes, god, yes please take me.
“all yours” you whisper against his mouth, arms crossing behind his neck. the possessiveness that he tries to push down comes bubbling up and escapes his mouth with a groan.
he hoists you up, grasping your ass and your legs wrap around his waist.
“always been yours, si”
“good. ‘cus now you’re gonna be a good girl and show me.”
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dragonsholygrail · 1 month
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I know that dominating and intimidating monsters with a nice little sarcastic streak are hot and all, we love them and wanna fuck them, but can I also get some nerd monsters?
Like I just want a little nerd. I also want monsters who are just total dorks over their special interests and they share that with you in their own excitable ways.
Minotaur bf who’s a total dork over puzzles and games. You’ll come out into the living room at midnight, seeing the bed was empty, and you’ll find him sitting under the singular light of the dining table. Totally hunched over his almost finished puzzle that he started earlier that day. Then during game nights he’s an absolute best. You swear he’s the most competitive monster you’ve ever met. Winning round after round, chasing that high until he finally snaps and throws the board game off the table and you on it so he can celebrate his victory properly.
Orc bf who’s a fanatic about collecting weapons. He has all sorts of antique guns and swords. Many that you don’t even remember the name of and yet you can recite its entire history bc your bf will drone on and on about it. Whenever he gets a new weapon he gives you an entire tour of his collection room, showing you how he’s moved everything around to highlight his new weapon. You can’t help but find him painstakingly hot as he handles it and you make your interest known to him. His eyes darken, catching onto your meaning and suddenly you’ve replaced the weapon on the platform but he quickly returns it to its place as he fucks you with the handle, rambling about its many uses.
Dragon bf who’s hyperfixated on the quality of jewels and gold. He’s studied the art of jewelry making and blacksmithing. He can tell you the grade of a diamond just by glance, not even needing equipment to check. He loves to combine his two favorite things the most. You and the rest of his treasures. Adorning you with only his finest jewels and nothing else. Liking most how they barely cover anything up yet make your body shine like the angel you are. He almost can’t help himself as he throws you down onto his hoard and ruts into you, watching the jewels sway and bounce on your delectable body.
Werewolf bf who’s a complete gym bro and knows everything there is to know about fitness. He knows the perfect forms to every exercise you could think of, he’s memorized all the benefits to each individual piece of equipment, and he can tell you how best to maximize your time in the gym. Not that he ever would, respecting your level of interest or disinterest in the gym. He knows it’s more his thing and he’s happy you simply coming along with him to use the sauna for members only… and their guests. He loves the burn and the freedom of the run as he works out and releases that energy. But what he loves more is coming into the empty sauna after he’s done and making you both work up a real sweat as he takes you on the bench, the wet squelch of your joining bodies echoing off the walls.
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Next caller.
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《 Pairings: College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader
《 Summary: Eddie hosts a late night radio show for his college campus, where he discusses various different topics. He's mostly known for his DnD and sex talk segments. You've been a long-time listener who works up the courage to finally call in for some help.
《 Warnings: Smut, 90s!Eddie, he's around 24 here. Phone sex, dirty talk, voyeurism, masturbation (female), sex toys. Eddie refers to the reader as sweetheart, good girl, and Miss caller. I didn't want to use y/n, so he's given you some pet names instead.
Word count: 3.9k
A/N: Please reblog, comment, and like to show support. Not proofread. Please ignore mistakes.
Mini series masterlist
18+ no minors
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Year 1990
Eddie was in his final semester of college with a very popular radio show. He became pretty much well-known on campus overnight. His radio show is known as "The Munson Experience," and it slowly became an overnight hit.
Fans of DnD tuned in for his hour of lore telling and tips on how to build up your fantasy world. Metal heads tuned in for his controversial opinions on bands. Others listened specifically for his special segments in regard to the topic of sex. Boyfriends called for advice on dating and different ways to get their girls off. Girlfriends called him to give thank you's and ask what they could do to repay the favor. He would have callers tell him their most outrageous stories.
Eddies show became popular very fast after he introduced his sex segment. He even became some what of celebrity at your college. He never used a different name or tried to use any type of anonymity. He didn't care if people knew him for his show or even liked him for it.
He was unapologetically himself at all times. You seen him around campus walking from one lecture to the next. Eddie would always wear an old band tee with the sleeves cut off, turning into a muscle tank. He liked showing off his tattoos. One arm fully covered in dark ink all the way down to the top of his hand. The other arm had a few tattoos scattered here and there. His hair was almost past his shoulders, and he had a small nose ring in his left nostril.
You'd always watch from afar as people would approach him to make small talk. The guys rushed over to invite him to their house parties and girls, giving out their personal phone numbers. It was no secret that Eddie knew how to please women. You heard the stories, and judging by his advice on his show, you believed them. He would even share his own personal hook up stories sometimes during the segment.
You and Eddie only ever had one class last semester together, but he never even made a single glance your way. You never approached him either, opting to just admire from distance and make your way to class. Every evening, you did, however, turn on the radio to listen to his show. Truthfully, you only listened to hear his voice. You had no idea what he was rambling on about most of the time, but you didn't care. His barritone voice was like warm honey to your ears. You found comfort in listening to him every night before bed. It was strange how the moment his show started, your stress of the day just melted away.
One day, you were going to call him for help about something you had never told anymore before. You already felt like you could trust him with this sort of thing. You were determined to speak to him even if you had to confess never having had an orgasm before. You don't know why you're putting so much trust into him, but you have.
You were desperate for his help and attention if you're going to be honest. You would lay in bed daydreaming about being in those other girls' shoes when he described what he did to them. How he would feel between your legs. Having his weight on top of you as you came undone beneath him.
Maybe you'll call in to his show tomorrow? What harm could it do? No one would even know it was you on the other line. You didn't have many friends on campus, so it's not like anyone would make the distinction so quickly. This would all be completely anonymous.
You just needed to speak with him. You never could work up the courage to talk to him in real life. You've always been too shy and easily intimidated. Eddie was a nice guy from what you could tell. There was nothing to be intimidated by at all. You would always get butterflies in your stomach when you saw him around. He made your stomach do flips when he flashed a smile, revealing the dimples in his cheeks. You could never work up the courage to ever approach him, so you just settle for your fantasies instead.
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A few weeks went by, and you still haven't called. Not that you didn't try. You would call and hang up when you heard what you assumed was an assistant answer the phone. The moment you heard, "Thank you for calling in to the munson." You slammed the phone on the receiver. Not even letting the poor guy finish his sentence. This situation was driving you crazy you were convinced he could and would help with your problem. You assured yourself he was the only one who could because you didn't want anyone else to.
You mope around your shared home with your roommate, Monica. She could tell something was bothering you but never pressed on the issue. You two weren't the closest, but there was a mutual respect and love for one another. She'd try to get you to go out to parties with her but knew not to pressure you. The moment she heard a no, she left it at that, shrugging her shoulders and leaving you be.
"I can tell something is bugging you." she asked for the millionth time that week.
You sigh. "Im fine, I swear -- just little stressed." You put on a fake smile heading back to your room, leaving her to continue getting ready her date. Hoping she won't ask you again, you locked yourself away for the night. There was a light knock at your door, and you heard your roommates muffled voice from the other side. "I'll be back late. Get some sleep, okay?"
You ignore her as she leaves for the evening. Flopping yourself back against your pillows, you turned to look at your phone. Then, glance at your clock, it read 10:45 pm. It's almost time for his last segment of the night. Should you call? Would tonight be the night? You rolled over on your side, staring between the clock and your phone.
You sat up quickly, snatching the phone and dialing the numbers. Your heart already pumping with adrenaline when you hear the dial tone. A lump in your throat builds from nerves and excitement. Tonight was the night, and you were not going to chicken out this time. You hear the distinct voice on the other end of the call. "Thank you for calling into the munson experience. What are you calling in for."
You struggle to find your voice for a moment. The man on the other end is waiting for you to respond, and he almost hangs up, thinking it's another crank call. "I'm calling to speak to Eddie." You're voice barely even a whisper that you needed to repeat yourself three times. Eventually, they put you on hold while they got ready for his final segment. You exhale a deep breath you didn't even know you were holding in.
The sound of the music they put you on hold to cut off and your stomach drops. This was it you were finally going to do it. Not only were you going to speak to him, but you were also about to confess something that always made you feel embarrassed. You know it's nothing to be ashamed about truly. Judging by the countless women who called in with a similar problem looking for advice.
The music playing on the radio fades, and you hear him greet you."Hi, thank you for calling in. How can I be of assistance?"
You struggled to find your voice yet again.
"Hello? C'mon, don't be shy. This is a judgment free zone here." He leaned forward in his chair, getting closer to the microphone.
"Umm, hi, I was calling for something I think only you can help me with." You're clutching the phone in a tight grip against your ear. Your hands are shaking, and you hope no one can recognize you.
He leans back in his rolling chair. "And who am I speaking with."
"I....I'd rather not give you my name." You stammered. Your anxiety is building up, and you are so close to hanging up.
"That's okay. We'll keep this anonymous." He replied.
His brows raise for a moment as he listened to you talk. You sounded a little too familiar to him, and he has a sneaking suspension he might know who you are. He won't out you just in case he might be wrong and also respecting your wishes to remain anonymous.
You take a deep breath. "Well, you see, I've never...I don't know how to say this."
"You never what?" Have sex or something? " He asked, but his voice showed no emotions.
"No...I mean I'm not a virgin or anything like that. I just....I've had boyfriends, and anytime we did stuff, I never-- finished." You confessed to him.
His eyes widened for a moment, and he felt a pain of sadness in his heart. He could tell you were scared to reveal something so personal like that. Especially to him, a total stranger on a live radio show with hundreds of listeners. "You never had an orgasm before. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"
Pinching the bridge of your nose." Yes, that's what I'm telling you."
"Huh, okay, have you tried getting yourself off, at least?" He questioned, spinning around in his chair. His assistant, the other side of the room, listened Intently to the conversation.
"Well you see that's my problem anytime I tried to make myself cum I just kinda give up. I get so close and right when I'm there... I stop." You blurt out as you feel a weight being lifted from your shoulders.
He ponders for a moment before responding. "And how can I help you with this exactly? "
"Well, I was hoping you could guide me through it." Your face scrunching up as the words left your mouth. You knew this was a dumb idea from the start. He wasn't going to help you, and any moment now, you're waiting to hear him laugh at how ridiculous this is. There's a long, almost uncomfortable silence.
Eddie, on the other side of the line in his booth, is in utter disbelief. Sure, he definitely wants to guide you through that experience. What guy wouldn't? He just truly can not believe this was happening live on HIS show. His assistant kept mouthing no to him, knowing this could end badly. Eddie doesn't care he's doing it. He picks up his old bandana that's been discarded on the table and wipes sweat from his forehead. He nods back at the assistant, signaling hes going along with it whether people like it or not.
Picking up his yoyo, he props his feet up on the table in front of him. "You want me to help you cum?" Is that correct?"
"Yes, that's what I want. I need you to help me any way you can." You're sounding more desperate than intended.
"Okay, well, miss caller. I think im the perfect guy for the job." He smiles tossing the yoyo back and forth to the palm of his hand.
You smile as the anxiety you felt early slowly fades away.
"What are we using tonight, sweetheart? Fingers or toys?" He asked tossing his yoyo aside.
"Umm, I have a toy I can use." You closed your eyes tight, answering his question.
"Do you want me to talk dirty to you while we do this, sweetheart? " He got his voice lower in the mic, causing your breath to hitch.
'Uhh, yes... I'd like that a lot, actually." You bite your lower lip, anticipating what he's planning.
A grin plastered on his face while his mouth gets unbelievably closer to the mic. His voice felt so close to your ear. Your skin prickles with goosebumps. "Are you laying back, sweetheart?"
"....uhh,yes, I'm laying in bed." Your voice shakey on the other end.
"Good girl, get nice and comfortable for me."
You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together when you hear him calling you a "good girl." You turn off your bedside light and let the warm glow from your candles set the mood.
"What are you wearing?" He asked, licking his lips.
"A shirt and panties." You replied, looking down at yourself.
"Yeah? wanna take those panties off for me." He continued on making his voice low and deep. Similar to his DM voice, he would put on during his DnD segments. A shiver runs down your spine, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. There is a small wet patch already forming on the thin lace material of your panties.
You moved and carefully dragged the delicate lace down your legs, tossing them across your room. "They're off."
"That's a good girl." He praised.
You lay there patiently waiting for him to continue.
"Can you be my good girl and grab that little toy you told me about?" He asked you, feeling himself growing hard as well. He still can't believe he's doing this but doesn't want to stop. "Do you have it?"
Reaching over to your bedside table, you open the drawer, grabbing the small vibrator.
"I got it." You whisper into the phone.
He readjusts in his seat, "Turn it on for me."
You do as he says and turn the small vibrator onto the lowest setting. That ball of nerves in the pit of your stomach creeps back in. You want to do this, but the thought of hundreds of people listening to you right makes you second guess the decision.
"On second thought, maybe this was a bad idea." You admit trying to fight back tears as a lump in your throat forms.
"No, no hey its okay. What's wrong?" He asked, sounding concerned.
"I--i just remembered there are people listening." You stumble over your words as you try not to cry. Feeling a little ridiculous that you're even going through with this.
He frowns to himself. " Listen, it's just me, and you okay? If you don't want to do this, I understand you can always hang up."
"Yes, please." You spoke sofly.
"NO!--I want to do this." You blurt out. Once again, there is a long pause as he's thinking of the right things to say. Eddie doesn't want to make you feel pressured. He wants this to be an enjoyable moment. "Shall we continue?"
"That's my good girl." He cooed.
You whimper lowly into the phone, but it doesn't go unnoticeable. He already knows how to get you riled up, and he hasn't even gotten started yet. "You like that, don't you?"
"You like it when I call you a good girl?" He teased.
You gulped into the phone." Yeah."
His assistant in the next room is chewing on his nails out of pure terror. He's never seen this happen before on a live radio show, and he just knows what a shit storm it could cause. Eddie doesn't seem to mind at all his focus and attention were strictly on you.
"I want you grab that toy and put it to your clit. Can you do that for me?" He gets his voice low again. Your nipples harden under the thin material of your shirt. You bring the vibrator to your sensitive bud and gasp when you feel the vibrations.
"Okay, sweetheart, now think of me between those thighs. Think of my lips wrapped around your clit sucking so so softly. Imagine my face buried between your legs.." He's breathing heavier into the mic. His cock getting painfully hard in his jeans "Are you thinking about it?"
"Mmm, y--yes I'm...I'm imagining you there." You gasp and moan in the phone.
"I know you must be soaked right now. I wish I was there with you, spreading you open with my tongue. I bet you taste so fucking good" He kept going his voice getting more seductive in your ear.
"Is this your first time thinking of me like this?"
A sly grin creeps up on his face as he probably already knows the answer.
"I bet you have. I'm sure you've seen me around our campus. You've probably wondered what it would be like having my thick cock deep inside you. I would make you cum so fucking hard." He's getting really into it now, and his heart races with excitement.
You sink further into your bed as the vibrator continues working on your clit. Your hips bucking up as you writhe on your blanks, taking in every word he spoke. The phone keeps falling from your ear the more relaxed you become. Your mind in a fog while you listen to him say the dirtiest things. No one has ever spoken to you like this before, not even your ex-boyfriends. "Hey, you there?"
You gasp, "Yes, I'm here."
"Great. I need you to try and keep the phone to your ear as best you can for this part. Now with your other hand, use your fingers to fuck yourself but keep that vibrator where it is, got it?" He sounded much more serious this time.
You kept the vibrator right where it was at while you gently brought two fingers to your entrance. You slide them between your wet folds, getting them covered in your juices. You bite your lower lip hard as you teased around your dripping pussy. You hear him groan in the other end of the phone and wonder if he's enjoying this just as much as you are. You gently dip your two fingers inside you, getting them as deep as they possibly could go. "Ooh! Fuck." You moaned in his ear.
"Yeah, that's it pretend your fingers are my cock sweetheart." His let out a shakey breath.
"I bet your so fucking tight. Just thinking about your tight pussy taking my cock is making me so hard." He's getting himself riled up.
He rubbs the back of his neck, trying to stay focused. "I'd have to take my time with you first. Working you open until you're ready to take all of me."
"Is it big?" You ask him meekly, panting into the phone while your fingers stretch you open.
"Fuck baby--id have you feeling so full." He groaned in the mic, struggling to keep himself composed. Clenching his jaw tight as he opens and closes his fists.
Eddies tries his best to resist rubbing himself over his jeans as he listened to you. He has to remember this isn't about him right now it's all about you. His sole purpose of the night is making you cum and he's determined you will.
Your fingers continue pumping in and out at a vigorous pace. The vibrator placed carefully on your sore bud while you try your best not to drop the phone again. "I can hear your dripping pussy from here."
His words turn you on even more, making you grow wetter for him. Your body is covered in beads of sweat as your face grows hot. Your pussy making a loud schlick noise with every pump of your fingers.
"Feel good?" He asked you with amusement etched in his tone.
"Yes, it feels so good." You let out weak pathetic response. "Oh my god!" You squealed into the phone. Desperately trying to keep it balanced between your head and shoulder. You're a moaning, whimpering mess, and you don't care how loud you're being. You've never felt like this before it's terrifying and thrilling all at the same time.
He laughs, rubbing his chin letting out a quiet grunt before speaking again, "You sound so sexy when you make those little noises."
His listeners are having a hard time distinguishing if he's getting himself off in the process or if he's just playing it up for the moment. They're used to his crazy antics, but this was something entirely new. They were all shocked and impressed they were getting to witness this.
Your fingers pumping harder as you curve them upwards to rub against that sweet spot on your walls. Your thighs shake as you arch your back off the bed. You imagined they were his cock instead pounding in and out of your pussy like this. You feel a tightness in your core building up, and you know you're getting close.
"You're getting close, aren't you?" He whispered seductively.
"S'close." You whined.
"That's it be a good girl and cum." Cum all over my cock." He groaned.
The vibrator on your clit helping to bring you closer to your release. You spread your legs them even further apart. You're moaning louder into the phone. You can't even hear Eddie's voice anymore. Fucking yourself with your fingers is becoming difficult the closer you are to your release. Your walls clenching up tightly around them, and your pulse quickening.
You plunge them in and out of your pussy faster. That coil in your tummy is getting tighter. The feeling is all too familiar, and you start to get scared. What if you can't get past this part? You're doubting yourself again. You let out a deep breath and relax your mind.
Your legs shut involuntarily, and the vibrator falls from between your thighs. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your first ever orgasm rips through your body with so much intensity. Your vision goes black, and you stop breathing for a second. The phone lays abandoned next to your head, having dropped it long ago. You can hear Eddie's muffled voice calling out for you.
Tears begin pouring from the corners of your eyes. You couldn't help getting emotional after all of that. Not only was this your first time ever being able to have an orgasm, but the entirety of the situation was starting to set in. You felt amazing, and Eddie did such a great job helping you along the way. There were just some insecurities starting to creep in that you wanted to keep away. He's the only man that's ever made you feel like this, and you hope maybe one day you'd find the courage to meet him in person.
Everything went dead silent for a few minutes except for a few sniffles you hope no one else could hear. Your body glistening with sweat and your thighs sticky with your juices. You're still coming down from your high as your tears slowly fade away.
"You there, sweetheart? You heard him ask from a short distance.
With shakey hands, you pick up the phone to your ear. "Mmhmm...I'm still here." Your voice coming out small.
"You did so good for me." He praised you one last time. "It's okay. I'm right here He reassured.
"How was it?" He asked, hoping you had a good time.
"It was overwhelming but amazing." You smile weakly into the phone. You can't see him, but he's smiling back.
"Yea knew I'd be perfect for the job. Haven't had one complaint yet." His cockiness coming back almost immediately. Just as he was about to reach for a pack of cigarettes, he noticed he's way over his scheduled time. His eyes widened in a panic as he locked eyes with the clock above him.
His assistant busts through the door, signaling that the show is now officially over for the night. Eddie startles for a moment before jumping out of his chair and yanks the mic up to his mouth to close out the rest of the segment.
He slams his hands down on the table enthusiastically. "GOOD!..GREAT!-- and that's it for tonight's show everybody thank you all for listening. Thank you to our lovely caller, and if you guys wanna see my band play, come visit us at The Hideout every Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Especially you miss caller you can come see me anytime you like."
You listened to him give thanks to everyone when the song called "about a girl" from some band named Nirvana fades away his outro. You flopped back down on your bed. Your body is way too weak to even roll over your legs feeling like jello.
Laying there resisting the urge to fall asleep, wanting to savor this special moment as long as you could. You thought about what he said before hanging up. You were definitely wanted to see him soon. You had to after this night. You needed to finally meet him and maybe repay the favor.
6K notes · View notes
nicoline1998enilocin · 3 months
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“I fucking love you and that scares the hell out of me!”
I can hear Glen say this, so can you write something with him and this prompt? please and thank you!
I f*cking love you
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PAIRING || Glen Powell x Actress!Fem!Reader
WORDCOUNT || ~ 900 words
SUMMARY || You've been working closely with Glen while filming a new rom-com movie, and you two can't help but let the feelings on screen seep into your daily lives. Once your feelings for each other are out in the open, something unexpected blooms between you two, and your intense chemistry is clearly visible, both on- and off-screen.
RATING || Teen (T)
TAGS || RPF. Mutual pining. Idiots in love. Unexpected love confession.
A/N || This drabble is part of Nicoline's Summer of Drabbles. I had a lot of fun writing this story, as it's my first time writing for Glen! I'm looking forward to writing more for him in the future, but I hope you will all enjoy my first attempt at a story for this man. This is not proofread - any and all mistakes are my own. 🤍
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Photo: Source || All other graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin
Main Masterlist || Glen Powell || Summer of Drabbles
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Working together with Glen has been nothing short of a dream, and to be working as a lead in a romantic comedy alongside him is the cherry on top. You have been working hard to earn your footing in Hollywood, and this will be your first major role, which only makes it much more special to be working with your celebrity crush.
However, you don't know that he's harboring the same feelings for you, but he's scared to admit it. While he's open to falling in love, he never expected to find it in you - a sweet, soft-spoken girl who has stolen his heart from day one. He never used to believe in love at first sight, but that all changed when he met you. Your shared moments on set, the laughter you've shared, and the way he looks at you when he thinks you're not looking, all these things have made his feelings for you undeniable.
Glen has invited every member of the filming cast and crew to a barbecue and pool party at his house in Austin, and everyone's having a great time. Still, all you can focus on is Glen, his ridiculously delicious hairy chest, and his beautiful smile, which lights up his features.
"Are you even listening to me, or are you too busy drooling over Glen again?" you suddenly hear a woman say, and it's only then that you're snapped back to reality.
"I- uhm- Sorry. My mind was somewhere else," you admit shyly, and just when you look away, Glen looks over at you, but you don't notice. A wave of disappointment washes over him as his attempts to catch your eye fail - he hasn't been able to stop thinking about them for the longest time - but he's run out of luck.
"Why don't you just go up to her and tell her how you feel?!" Glen's trainer says, and Glen turns a deep shade of red at the thought.
"I- No! There's nothing to tell," he says with a bit of a grumble, but it's pretty clear to anyone but the two of you how the other feels. The chemistry between you two practically jumps out of the screen when you're working together, and while everyone's well aware it's because of your mutual pining, they also wish you two would get it over with. And that same night, it finally happens.
The pool party finished a while ago, and you and Glen are seated on a large couch he has in his backyard, cuddled under a soft, warm blanket as it's getting rather chilly, while watching the stars. The twinkling lights above you reflect in his deep, brown eyes, and the cool breeze ruffles his hair. He's sipping on a beer while you're enjoying a soda, and it's the perfect ending to a fun day.
"Can I tell you something?" Glen asks out of nowhere, and your heart starts to beat faster as he pulls you closer. You hum in response, your eyes closed to enjoy the moment for as long as possible - waiting for the moment he'll tell you that he's in love with someone other than yourself.
"I- I fucking love you, and that scares the hell out of me!" he blurts out, and you immediately sit upright, your eyes shooting open as your gaze meets his. A deep red blush covers his face and creeps down his neck as he confesses his love for you in a way he never would have envisioned. His voice trembles with fear and anticipation, and his eyes are filled with a mix of hope and dread.
"Y- You love me?" you ask, and he looks at the beer in his hands as he nods. He knows he won't be able to look at you as you reject him, but he couldn't be more surprised at the words that he hears next.
"Can you look at me, Glen? Because I have to tell you something, too," you say, and he does after sighing and gathering all his courage. Once his eyes are focused on yours, you're getting lost in the green of his irises, and they remind you of so many beautiful memories you've shared.
"I love you too, Glen. I'm in love with you. I have been for years now, as you have been my celebrity crush for as long as I can remember. You're very kind, and there's something special about you. I enjoy spending time with you, and never get bored when I'm around you-" is all you can say before you're cut off mid-sentence.
The warmth of Glen's palm radiates through your entire body as it cups your cheek, and the softness of his lips makes your nerves feel like they're on fire. Your hands land on his hairy chest, your fingers reveling in the feeling of its coarseness underneath them. And most of all, you're getting lost in his taste.
The beer he's been sipping combined with something so him has your mind going into overdrive, and when he pulls away, you can't help but smile like a teenager who just had their first kiss. You lock eyes with him and see the shimmer in them that you've fallen for. The shimmer that lets you know he's happy and that he's in love with you. One that's only visible when he's around the woman he loves: You.
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little-miss-dilf-lover · 10 months
Note
Really? Thank you so much, you are so very sweet. I was just going to request some pent-up, passionate, loving, wedding night sex with Miggy because they've wanted to get handsy for a long time but couldnt because of the fact that they were in public and now they're married and just want to celebrate privately.
Thank you so much, again, you're so kind for that
hii lovie!! :(( you’re so sweet, ofc, anytime !! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌
MR AND MRS O’HARA
miguel o’hara x fem!reader
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word count. 630
warnings. 18+ only!! unprotected pinv, size kink? bit of teasing, slow, lovey-dovey sex, think that’s all. mdni
You both spent the day cautious, declining touches from one another, far too worried that it may lead to something else - that it may lead to a quickie in the storage room during the reception. So, to deflect the situation, you and Miguel would keep kisses and lingering touches to an absolute minimum - wanting to wait until night when you'd finally be alone.
Luckily for you both, that moment eventually came around. 
Miguel was all over you from the very second he got you alone - lips latched on yours, working over them as if were deprived of your delicate touch -which he was- briskly walking you backwards into your grand wedding suite, undressing yourselves. He made haste movements as he undid the back of your dress, desperately wanting to feel as much of your skin in as little as possible.
He led you to the edge of the bed, his towering height peering down at you, staring in awe at the measly pair of lace white underwear you wore specially for tonight - for him. He slips his large hands past your throat and into the backs of your hair, holding behind your neck, forcing you to peek up at him.
Even though he was desperate for you, he remained gentle, touching and caressing your heated skin with love and kindness, utter compassion as he roamed your upper body. 
He mutters a soft praise against your lips as he guides you, laying you on the mattress behind.
You adjust, scooching up the bed, bringing Miguel with you so he hovers above, his massive build caging you to the sheets. He shifts his weight, balancing on one forearm to slip a hand between you, sliding his palm down your jittering stomach and all the way down between your thighs.
"Don't look down there. Look up at me, cariño," Miguel softly mumbles, searching for your gaze as he teased over the mound in your underwear - thumbing over your clit through the damp fabric. Whispering against your lips, "Such pretty eyes."
All teasing stopped when he slipped himself from your grasp, moving down the bed to sit on his knees between your legs. He palms over the large, bulging tent in his boxers before pulling his cock out over the waistband, rolling over the reddened, leaking tip. He keeps his gaze fixed on you, watching how you gulped and squirmed under his attention, eyes flickering between his fat dick and pretty face.
Itching forward, he slides his thick head through your folds, parting your glistening pussy, collecting your juices with his cock. 
"Been waitin' for you all day," he husks, his voice hoarse - struggling to even his breathing. "All day."
"I know— me too," you roughly exhale, screwing your eyes closed when you feel him trail his cock a little lower - down to where you wanted him.
You wanted to savour this moment - hang onto it, but you've been waiting far too long, and if you continued the teasing, neither of you would last long.
He places a firm grip at the base of his cock, guiding himself towards you, slowly pushing his head through your plushy folds and into your sweet cunt. He stills, letting you adjust around his thick tip, allowing your greedy pussy to swallow his cock at your own pace.
Miguel's chest is finally flush with yours once more, his broad torso caging you to the mattress - large palms cupping your face, lips smothering yours, swallowing your pretty moans. His desperate touch remains delicate, only caressing you with tender love and care as he slowly winds into you - giving you soft, gentle strokes, nice and slow. 
Treating his new, beautiful wife with all the love and warmth she deserves <3
— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —
2K notes · View notes
reilemon · 2 months
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🍒My Everything🍒
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♡︎ synopsis: You didn't plan on celebrating your birthday during undercover mission, but Xavier still wanted to surprise you. A little twist on the 21 Days memory.
♡︎ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader
。°⚠︎°。MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)。°⚠︎°。
♡︎ cw: birthday sex, fingering, oral (both male and female receiving), creampie, multiple orgasms
♡︎ word count: 3.4k
♡︎ a/n: I call myself Zayne girlie yet here I am posting my fourth Xavier fic. Anyways, Sylus is next.
♡︎ requested by @sadfragilegirl ♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this! divider by @cafekitsune
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The undercover mission with Xavier has been going smoothly so far. You two put up a convincing act of a young couple in love in front of others, and actually got along well behind closed doors. You didn't want to tell him this, but you were genuinely surprised at how good of a homemaker he is. When you heard about the assignment, you were excited that it's him who's going to be living with you, but at the same time anxious. Xavier is a reliable work partner, but what would he be like as a roommate? So far, you had no complaints and actually were looking forward to coming home back to the apartment you and Xavier temporarily lived in for around three weeks.
As you mindlessly stroll around a grocery store, you reminisce about one more cause of anxiety about the mission - your crush on your coworker and neighbor. You're not sure when it started, but it doesn't matter because you made it your own mission to bury those feelings and hope they disintegrate. For a while you considered acting on it and taking the first step, but then you realized you had a lot to lose if it doesn't work out. And you tried to convince yourself that it was just a small crush, because who wouldn't want someone hot and reliable? Right?
A weary sigh leaves your lips and you turn a corner - Party Supplies. Oh. Right, it's your birthday today. You didn't say anything to Xavier because you didn't want to make him feel obligated to buy you a gift or make something today. You two are on a mission after all, and you can get to celebrate it later when it's over.
You pass the party supplies aisle and head towards the check out. You wonder what kind of concoction Xavier cooked today.
₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧
Even though you settled on not celebrating your birthday today, you still wanted to treat Xavier, so you bought a cherry pie from a pastry shop that always smells so good and makes your mouth water every time on the way back from 'work'.
As you fiddle with your keys at the doorstep, you catch a whiff of something burning. Probably from the inside. Another sigh leaves your lips. Xavier burnt something again, didn't he?
Light gray smoke greets you as soon as you open the door, your eyes taking a moment to adjust and then you see Xavier frantically fanning a kitchen towel over the counter.
You can clearly see the panic in Xavier's eyes over the slowly dissipating smoke when he notices you coming in. "Ah - ! Welcome home!"
You can't help but laugh a little at the scene, but also be confused a little at his behavior. He's usually calm even when he causes a kitchen fire. "So what are we having for dinner?" You tease.
Xavier's shoulders slump in defeat and puts away the kitchen towel. He turns to you and finally looks at you properly, with a defeated smile "A neighbor made you one of your favorite dishes." He nudges his head towards the dining table. Your gaze follows his and you gasp at how beautifully the table was set, with the meal and your favorite flowers waiting for you.
"Xavier, what - "
"Oh, what's this?"
He approached you to take the bag with the groceries while your attention was on the table.
"Oh, I got us a cherry pie."
He only nods and goes back to the kitchen to unload everything.
You sneak towards the cremated object, "So, if we already had dinner, what was this supposed to be?"
"Uh, nothing. I was just experimenting." Xavier absentmindedly answers as he finishes putting everything away.
After he refuses your offer to help with airing out the apartment, you then excuse yourself to the bathroom to take a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothes.
When you exit the bathroom, the smell of what you assume to be burnt dessert is almost completely gone, and now you can see everything properly. You walk back into the dining area and your eyes land on Xavier waiting for you by the table. You gasp in delight when you see what's in his hands - a cute handmade paper crown in your favorite colors.
"Happy birthday." Xavier says softly and steps towards you, placing the crown on your head. It sits so perfectly that you think he might've taken your measurements.
You look up at him, still in disbelief "How did you - "
"Know when it's your birthday? I told you I looked at your profile." He chuckles at the silly question and turns to pull back your chair, offering you to take a seat.
While eating, you found out that what he burnt was supposed to be a birthday cake he thought you would like, but while it was baking he used that time to set the table and make the crown. He didn't want to make it earlier in case you found it. And then the neighbor came to drop off the meal and of course had to linger and chat and also invite herself over tomorrow.
"So, the groceries I bought today - "
"I didn't need any of that, I just wanted to buy myself more time."
You got used to Xavier's weird grocery shopping lists, that you didn't even question why you were buying ketchup, pesto sauce or sausages. You were so touched by the amount of effort and thoughtfulness he put into your birthday dinner; you were smiling the whole time. That crush is not going away anytime soon.
But you can tell that Xavier was almost like a deflated balloon, hesitantly answering your questions as you put two and two together.
You reach across the table, placing your hand over his. "I love everything you've done today." You reassure him in a comforting voice, "And it kinda worked out that the cake got burned, because then the pie would go to waste."
He nods, and you hope you made him feel a little better. Then, he takes your hand and places a soft peck on top of it, and you could feel your cheeks burning instantly. You hope he doesn't notice it.
He does.
After dinner, Xavier shoos you away from the kitchen, not letting you do any of the house chores on your day. So you go to the living room to unwind and wait for him to join you.
₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧
"Sorry, I had to take a shower." Xavier finally appears and takes a seat next to you on the sofa. He's wearing sweats (those gray sweatpants!!) and a loose tshirt, his hair still a little damp from washing away the smoke.
"It's okay, I entertained myself." You throw the other half of your blanket over his lap.
"Did you pick out a movie?"
You nod and start playing the movie on the tv. Since you can't go out together as much thanks to the mission, you found ways to pass the time inside your 'new home'. One of them is watching old movies Xavier used to watch years ago.
And about five minutes into the movie, you feel fluffy gray hair tickling you cheek and nose as his head softly drops on your shoulder. You turn your head and of course, Xavier is already dozing off. You smile softly at him - it's only fair to let him rest, so you try to slowly get up and let him lie down on the soft pillows.
With eyes still closed, he lets you snuggle him into the pillows and the blanket, but then his lips form a playful smirk and in one swift motion, he pulls you under the blanket with him, into his arms.
"You can watch the movie like this, right?" He asks as sleepiness overtakes him again, with the crown, barely on your head, poking his cheek.
Your body is stiff against his, and your voice doesn't help hiding how flustered you are "Um, you don't want to go to your room to take a nap?"
"Nope." He mumbles before dozing off.
You adjust to make yourself more comfortable, resting your head on his chest. The movie is rolling, but it doesn't have your attention. All you can focus on is how relaxing Xavier's presence is, with his weird slow heartbeat and soft breathing. His one hand is holding you close by the waist, while the other one found its way on top of yours that's resting on his chest.
All the nervousness about being so close to him slowly melts away, and you drift off to sleep.
₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧
When your eyes flutter open, Xavier's hand is in full focus as he tenderly caresses your cheek. The moonlight is the only source of light in the room now, and you wonder how long you slept. You prop yourself up a bit to look up at Xavier, but the crown you forgot you still had on slides off over your face, earning an amused laugh from him.
He takes it off for you and sets it on a nearby coffee table. Then he goes back to caressing your cheek.
"Did you sleep well?" He asks.
"Ye - Ow!" Numbness in your arm that was under you makes you grit your teeth and shift on the sofa in search for relief.
"Here." His arms effortlessly move you on top of him, your upper body completely resting on top of his, his legs encasing yours. "Better?" He asks as he grazes soothing circles on the numb arm.
Well you're not sure if it is better because your heart is beating like crazy now that you're on top of him, your faces a breath away. You did cuddle a little before, but you were never this close. So close you're sure he can feel your heartbeat. So you just nod, not trusting your voice.
You two share a moment in silence, gazing at each other’s features, Xavier's fingers still not leaving your face.
"It's a pity your birthday was during an undercover mission. I'll make it up to you when we get back."
You shake your head "This is one of my favorite birthdays actually." He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to elaborate and hoping you're not just humoring him. "I mean, I had a lovely home and a handsome husband waiting for me. He got me beautiful flowers and made sure I had my favorite meal."
A tone of uncertainty covers your voice "Who should I thank for that?"
When met with a puzzled look you elaborate "Should I thank you as my fake husband playing his role, or as my coworker -"
The fingers on your cheek cover your lips, cutting you off. "Just thank me, Xavier." The digits gingerly graze your bottom lip.
You speak softly “Thank you, Xavier.” Butterflies dance in your belly as you mull over the next question. "And -" You swallow thickly before continuing "What am I to you, Xavier?"
He doesn't say anything, instead he timidly pulls you closer by the back of your head, closing what little distance you had between your faces, his soft lips giving yours a chaste kiss. And when you don't pull away, your hand cupping his cheek, he pulls into a deep, hungry kiss, your bodies pressed hard, feeling every twitch of the muscle and pulse of your veins under your skin - and it's impossible to ignore growing bulge pressing your lower belly.
Xavier curses under his breath "Sorry, I - !" his words get lost in his throat when your hand grazes over his length over the clothes, your lips latching back onto his.
He groans and bites your bottom lip when you give it a few more strokes, feeling out his shape.
Fuck, it's thick.
Growing impatient, you tug at the waistband of the sinful gray sweats, and Xavier lifts his hips and pulls them down just enough to free his rock hard dick. You break away from the kiss to not so subtly look down and even under the low lights you can clearly see it. The sight of it makes you unconsciously rub your thighs and your mouth water.
You might've stared a little too long because a chuckle from the man under you pulls you out from your trance. But he doesn't tease you, maybe because it's your birthday, instead he pulls you back into another breathtaking kiss, while your hand wraps around his length, slowly stroking it.
But you need more - and in the next moment you're sliding down, adjusting yourself between his legs.
A few strokes to the base of his cock and your tongue on the leaking tip elicits a moan from Xavier's lips, and you discover that it's your new favorite sound. So you do what you need to do to hear more of it. Your swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting precum and the tender skin, before you take in more of his length, and greedily you take more and more before your nose is pressed on his pelvis, short hairs of his happy trail tickling you. You don't care how your jaw is barely holding on around his girth, his moans is what keeps you going and panties already drenched. All restrain from Xavier dissipates with every lick of your tongue and clenching of your throat around the tip.
"Fuck, you're doing so good."
His hips start moving faster than your rhythm, his hand on your head holding you in place. Under the hand that's holding you for balance, you can feel his thigh muscles tremble, and you can feel his cock throb in your mouth.
"I'm gonna cum, princess." He gives you the warning, and loosens his grip on your head, but you take it all in, needing to taste him. And in few shallow thrusts, you're tasting and swallowing his cum, not letting a drop go to waste.
You barely catch your breath before Xavier lifts you up and locks his lips with yours, tongue licking your lips and tongue, tasting himself. Then he switches the positions with you, and now you're on your back, stripped of your pants and underwear, Xavier's lips locked with yours and his middle finger sliding between your wet folds. You moan into the kiss as the finger slides into your entrance, quickly followed by a second one. Your hips start moving to meet the pace, the digits hitting all the right spots and your release already building up. Then his thumb presses your clit that was begging for attention, eliciting a yelp from you making Xavier smile against your lips before continuing kissing you. In a few more pumps of his fingers against your sweet spot, you're a panting mess as you cum around them.
When you come down from your high, he brings up those soaked fingers to his lips and licks them, the sight making you blush. His dick twitches in his underwear as he gets a taste of your essence. He needs more.
Before you can even protest about how you're wet enough, he pushes your legs further up against your torso, his face already between them, his breath fanning against your pussy spreading goosebumps all over your skin. The only thing that stopped him from latching onto your pretty pussy is his need to take in the sight of it for the first time.
You cover your face with your hands, too self-conscious about the close up he's getting, even if there's no lights in here. "Xavier..." You whine and move your hips as much as you can under his grasp.
He chuckles at your cute reaction and whispers how perfect you are, then he finally presses his tongue flat against your glistening folds, and your embarrassment melts away. One hand moves from the back of your thigh under your shirt, fondling your breast and playing with your hard nipple until you're squirming from over-sensitivity and he moves to the other one. His lips latch onto your sensitive nub, swirling his tongue around it, sucking and lapping at it, while his other hand finds its way back into your entrance, two fingers easily slipping in and finding the spots that make you moan and buck your hips.
"Just like that - " You breathe, raking your fingers through his hair and holding onto it, while your other hand grabs onto the arm rest behind you, anchoring yourself as Xavier's tongue and fingers stimulate you at just the right pace and you cry out when another orgasm courses through your body.
Xavier soothingly massages your breast and peppers your inner thighs with kisses as you catch your breath.
You hear him ask against your plush thigh "One more?"
Your eyes open and meet his half lidded gaze. You shake your head and grab his wrist "Just fuck me, please."
He was already on edge of another orgasm from just eating you out, and your breathy plea made him so dangerously closer. He positions himself on top of you and pulling down his underwear that now has a big wet spot from his leaking tip. You watch as he positions his cock against your pussy until you hear his soft voice
"Look me in the eyes, honey."
And you lock your gaze with his, eyes barely staying open as the swollen tip slides inside. With languid thrusts, his cock is buried to the hilt and now Xavier needs to anchor himself - he rests on his elbow, burying his face in the crook of your neck, licking and nipping sensitive skin. His other hand finds yours and holds it tight, interlocking fingers and resting it next to your head.
His thrust are deep and hard, his pelvis grazing your clit, making your cunt throb and squeeze around him, making his movements falter. With a strained voice he breathes against your neck "Gonna cum on my cock?"
You nod as you clench around him more when you hear his voice and see his face as he comes up to lock eyes with you and you grab him by the back of his neck, pulling him into a sloppy open mouthed kiss.
You squeeze his hand and lock your legs around his hips as they roll at the right angle.
"I'm so close, honey." He rasps.
And you are seconds away from your third orgasm, your pussy already spasming. "Need you - haah - inside -!"
You open your mouth in a silent cry his dick throbs in your already pulsing creaming cunt, filling it with hot cum. The two of you moan and grunt, erratically moving your hips, riding out each other's high.
With shaky breaths, you slowly calm down and open your eyes.
The two of you can't help but laugh a little when you see each other's blissed out faces. Xavier gives the hand he's still holding a kiss. Your other hand presses on his back to press you completely against him, needing to feel his whole weight on you.
"I'm not crushing you?" he asks as his face is nuzzled against your neck.
You gently stroke his now messy hair. "No let's stay like this for a while."
₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧
After cleaning up the mess on the sofa and showering, you're back in the dining room with the cherry pie on the table. Xavier put the candles on it and the princess crown back on your head. You're about to sit on Xavier's lap and then light the candles but then you remember something.
"Shoot, I almost forgot!"
Confused, Xavier watches you as you hurry out in the dining room. Your phone and the lighter are here, so he can't guess what you would need.
You come back with a giddy smile on your face as you hold something behind your back.
"Something for me?" he asks, amused at your expression.
"Yes, but it doesn't look that good because I had to make it quickly." You then reveal a handmade prince crown.
Xavier's eyes widen "When did you -?"
"I guess you forgot to clean up the living room after making mine, so I just scrambled something while you were showering."
Left speechless at your sweet gesture, his eyes switch between gazing at you and the crown.
You feel a little embarrassed at your craftsmanship because it looks poorly made compared to the one he made for you. "Okay, you looked at it enough. I'll make you a better one later."
He chuckles as you place it on his head and sit on his lap. He kisses your hand and then your lips "Thank you, I love it."
After lighting the candles, you close your eyes and make a wish.
511 notes · View notes
puckinghischier · 3 months
Text
Choices
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Jack Hughes x fem!reader
summary: jack proves that he will always choose reader, no matter what anyone has to say
notes: so, the first part of this is literally my favorite thing i’ve ever written. the ending? meh. i don’t hate it, but i definitely think it could have been done better, i just struggle so hard with endings 😭. i also lowkey don’t like the title, but literally couldn’t think of a different one. anyways, i hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼
can be read as a part 2 to this fic, but can also be read by itself
request: Could you write something with Jack getting defensive/choosing her? Maybe he gets cornered by an ex flame or someone about what makes reader so special to get him to commit to a serious relationship when he didn't with her
[6.7k]
“Are you sure I don’t need to dress up tonight? I know you said they’re just some old family friends, but I want to make a good impression,” you question Jack, standing in front of the full-length mirror propped against the wall.
You’re wearing a pale, yellow sundress with daisies imprinted all across the fabric. Jack insisted the Lawsons were just old friends of the family, having owned the house down the street since he was just a kid.
Since meeting Jack’s family last year, you’ve been his plus one to every single trip he’s made home. At thanksgiving he brought you home for a quick, two day trip to meet his grandparents and a few pairs of aunts and uncles, before having to fly out again because of his game schedule. Around Christmas the two of you split your time, spending the actual holiday with your family, then flying to meet Jack’s family for New Year’s activities, where you met several cousins and old school friends of Jack’s.
This year, you’re celebrating the Fourth of July in Michigan, finally getting to experience the infamous Hughes lake house. Jack was able to convince you to spend an entire month here at the large house, telling you the trip was for the Fourth festivities, but suggesting you leave a few weeks beforehand, wanting you to get the full lake house experience.
You had spent your days switching between joining his family on the large pontoon boat sitting at the end of their dock and going out on adventures with Jack alone on the pair of Jet skis Quinn had bought after his first paycheck came in during his rookie year. A few nights a week, Jack would tell you to put on something nice, showing you around the small town a few miles away from the house, taking you to each of his favorite childhood spots for dinner.
One night he had told you to put on the nicest dress you brought, then proceeded to take you to an old, beach themed bar. He sat across from you at the high top table in a collared shirt and khakis, the rest of the patrons around you in their bathing suit cover ups or shorts and t-shirts.
You scolded him, telling him you two looked like fools in there, all dressed up to eat fried seafood. He laughed, telling you the only fool in the room was him, because he was “foolishly and wholly in love with you.” You rolled your eyes at his mushy-ness, a blush making its way to your cheeks at the same time.
That memory, however, is the reason you no longer trust Jack when he tells you to either dress up or dress down for dinners. Including tonight.
“I promise, you don’t have to dress up. You could wear your bathing suit for all I care,” he calls out from the bathroom where he’s ‘fixing’ his hair, which usually means brushing it and then ruffling it around with his hands. “I mean, mom might not be too happy if you’re sitting at the dinner table in just a bikini, but I’d sure enjoy the show.”
You scoff at his words, turning to go and stand in the doorway of the ensuite, crossing your arms.
“I’m being serious, J. I want to make a good impression on these people. They’re really good friends of your parents. Your mom was telling me how you all used to spend almost the entire summer together, constantly over at one another’s houses for dinner and fire talks,” you remember how excited Ellen was to be having her friends over for dinner tonight, claiming she hadn’t seen them in years because of how busy their lives had gotten.
Ellen also mentioned they had a daughter around your and Jack’s age who was in with her parents for the summer. Her name is Sarah and she’s a department director of some big advertisement company in New York. She stopped coming around as often around the same time Jack got drafted to the Devils, according to Ellen. Her job being too demanding for her to make the trip every summer.
You were excited to meet yet another person that knew Jack as a kid. You were hoping to rope a few stories out of her over the course of dinner, wanting to know as much as you can about Jack’s childhood from those around him. Sometimes you really hate the fact that you haven’t known Jack his whole life. You count yourself one of the luckiest people alive to be able to share his life with him now, but you’re always picturing him growing up, wanting to know every detail of what makes Jack, Jack.
Quinn and Luke are always eager to tell you anything you want to know about Jack, from the time he wanted to be “TP man” for Halloween and proceeded to wrap his entire body in toilet paper, wearing the empty rolls on his hands, to the time he wanted to ask his eighth-grade crush out on a date, but instead blurted out that he had to go home to massage their dad’s feet.
You always enjoyed hearing stories about him from people that weren’t his mischievous brothers, though. Like when his grandma told you about the time she got home to see that Jack had rearranged her kitchen cabinets, placing everything he saw her use on a regular basis closer to where she could reach it after watching her drop her favorite mug while trying to put it away on the second highest shelf that morning. Or when his best friend from high school told you about the time Jack gave him a ride home from practice, stopping in to say hello to his parents when Jack heard his little sister crying in her room because she couldn’t figure out her math homework. Jack stayed over for nearly two hours to help the little girl with her multiplication table and gave her words of encouragement the entire time.
You knew Jack was someone special, his calming energy easing your nerves from the first time you ever spoke to him. Hearing the stories that confirm he’s been this way his whole life, from the people that have known him far longer than you, though, makes you burst with so much love for the man you think your heart might actually explode one day.
“And I’m being serious, Sunshine, what you’re wearing is fine and won’t change the fact that they’re going to absolutely love you, just like everyone else does,” Jack walks over to stand in front of you.
You uncross your arms, letting them fall to your sides. Jack reaches down and takes each one of your hands into his, stepping forward slightly.
“I just…I care about how the people that know you view me. It’s important to me that the people important to you know that I love you, not that I’m just trying to ride on the back of some hot shot hockey player,” you whisper, referencing a blog post you were sent by one of your coworkers back in Jersey, asking if the girl in the picture was, in fact, you sitting on Jack’s lap in a crowded bar you went to for a post-game celebration.
The post talked about how you had been seen with Jack at a few games and were seen leaving several bars with him over the course of a few weeks early into your relationship. The blog site was a silly, hockey gossip blog, more concerned about who the players were sleeping with than any of the games themselves, but the accusation made your heart sink nonetheless. You knew you were with Jack for no reason other than you love him and he makes you feel safe, comfortable, and loved. Jack knows you’re not with him for his money, and anyone close to him knows you’re not with him for his money or fame.
He could quit hockey tomorrow and it wouldn’t change even an ounce of your feelings towards him. With or without hockey, he’s still your Jack. The Jack that makes you honey lavender tea every night because he knows it helps you sleep. The Jack that somehow manages to bring you flowers after every home game, no matter how late it is. The Jack that insisted you move in with him after your lease ended because his apartment is closer to your new job, but really because he was tired of not coming home to you every night. The Jack that showed up to your graduation this spring, bringing nearly his whole team and his family, the group cheering so loud when you walked across the stage everyone in attendance laughed, the person handing you your diploma commenting “sounds like you have a few fans out there.”
Even though you know that Jack knows, and his family knows, each time you meet someone new from his life, you feel the need to prove yourself. It’s part of the reason you were so anxious to meet his parents all those months ago. You worry that each person you meet has seen or read an article like the one you were sent. You worry they’ll think you’re not right for Jack, or that you’re only with him to get a taste of the popularity and lifestyle that comes along with his job. All you want is to show them how much you love him for him, and how you never want to leave his side.
Jack looks down at you, bringing your joined hands up to his mouth, pulling them together and kissing your knuckles.
“I promise you, no one here thinks that,” he starts, his words oozing with sincerity. “There is not a single person that matters to me in my life more than you. And absolutely no one’s opinion of you matters to me other than your own. Do you think you’re with me for the wrong reasons?” He asks you, waiting for you to answer him.
You shake your head no, breaking his eye contact.
“Hey, look at me,” he squeezes your hands that are still resting near his mouth, bringing your eyes back to his. “Then absolutely nothing else matters, okay? I know who you are, and you know who you are. Last time I checked, we’re the only two in this relationship, so that’s the only two people I’ll ever be looking to for opinions concerning my choices in this relationship, got it?”
You nod, a little embarrassed you were ever worried in the first place after his small speech, but still needing the hear his words nonetheless.
You’re still looking up at him, opening your mouth to tell him how much you love him when your stomach growls between the two of you, loud enough you nearly jump back.
Jack’s eyes flicker down to your stomach and back up to your eyes, the amusement in them making the blue shade shine even brighter.
“On that note, let’s go get you something to eat,” he chuckles, kissing your forehead before dropping one of your hands, the other still intwined with yours, pulling you out of the room behind him.
Jack led you down to the kitchen, digging around in the fridge to sneak you a snack before everyone sat down for dinner, knowing the meal wouldn’t be ready for at least another hour.
After he was satisfied that you weren’t going to starve, thanks to the small bowl of fruit he found, the two of you walked out to the back deck, joining everyone else.
The Lawsons had already arrived, Jim and Ellen standing on the other side of the large deck, conversing with Mr. and Mrs. Lawson separately.
Mrs. Lawson is a short, slim woman. Her hair is flawlessly styled into a ‘looks lazy but really took an hour’ up do, wearing a light purple, short sleeve pleated dress that fell just above her ankles, a simple pair of sandals on her feet.
Her husband is a tall man with salt and pepper hair, wearing a matching polo shirt and khaki shorts, a pair of Hey Dude brand shoes on his feet.
As soon as the two of you walked out onto the porch, Ellen was immediately halting her conversation to introduce you to the guests.
“Oh! There they are! Aren’t they just dolls? Look at them!” she gushed, walking over to greet the two of you.
You smile warmly at her, your relationship with Jack’s mom almost as dear to you as your relationship with your own. The two of you were able to sit and talk with one another during the hockey game her and Jim had come into town for the first time you met them. You both were invested in the game itself, considering all three Hughes boys were on the ice that night, but the intermissions were full of conversations and stories. You left the rink that night feeling like you had gained another mother, exchanging numbers with Ellen and promising to keep in touch. You now have weekly phone calls with Ellen, her interest in your life and well being matching that of her interest in her son’s.
“Mom, we literally saw you an hour ago on the boat, calm down,” Jack tells her, earning soft smack to his chest from you.
“Don’t be a grump, Jack. She’s telling us how good we look and you choose now to suddenly act like you don’t love being told you look pretty,” you scold.
Jack looks down at you with his mouth slightly open, putting on his best fake offended face.
“See, I told you she keeps him in check for me. Now I don’t have to carry the burden all by myself anymore,” Ellen tells Mrs. Lawson, earning a laugh from the woman standing just behind her.
You and Jack continue to have a small stare down until he conceded, choosing to flash a smile at you instead, sticking his tongue out like a child and earning a small giggle from you.
“Y/N, this is Deborah, but we all call her Deb. Deb, this is Y/N, my new baby girl,” Ellen breaks up yours and Jack’s moment, introducing you to Mrs. Lawson.
“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you Mrs. Lawson,” you say, removing your hand from Jack’s so you could step forward and give a small, greeting hug to the woman in front of you.
“Oh honey, Mrs. Lawson was my mother-in-law, please, call me Deb,” she tells you as she pulls back from the hug.
“Okay, Deb is it,” you laugh, stepping back beside Jack.
“C’mere, I need a hug from you too, Jack,” she motions Jack over to her, your boyfriend walking over to give her a slightly longer hug than you shared with her. “My, you’ve grown up, haven’t you? Last time I saw you, you were just getting ready to declare yourself draft eligible. Now look at you, the real deal.”
Jack blushes as he steps back towards you, knowing how shy he gets when complimented.
He may be cocky on the ice and in interviews, but you’ve learned that when it comes to the people that are close to him, Jack is extremely humble. He turns a light shade of pink any time you compliment how well he played after a game, or when his mom calls to tell him she watched his game on tv and cheered so loud she woke their cat up anytime he scored a goal.
“Just enjoy playing the game, is all,” he slips his hand back into yours. You give it a light squeeze.
“Ron, quit talking golf and get over here! Come say hi to Jack and his girlfriend!” Deb turns and shouts to her husband behind her. Both Mr. Lawson and Jim leave their spot by the heating grill and walk over to join your small group.
“Jack, how are ya, boy?” Mr. Lawson walks up, pulling Jack from your hold, bringing him in by his arm for what you call a ‘guy’ hug, each having one arm slug over the other’s shoulders, their clasped hands trapped between their chests.
“Getting by alright. Happy to have a bit of a break. Couldn’t wait to show Y/N here the ways of the lake house,” Jack motions to where you stand slightly behind him.
“Oh gosh, where are my manners. Hi, sweetheart, I’m Ron,” Mr. Lawson sticks his hand out towards you, shaking it softly.
“Hi, Jack’s told me a lot about you two. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Lawson” you reference both of the Lawsons, repeating part of your greeting to Deb.
“Oh, no, Mr. Lawson is my father, I’m just Ron, dear,” he mirrors his wife’s earlier statement, stepping over to place his arm around her waist.
You chat with the couple a bit longer, noticing after a few minutes that Quinn and Luke are nowhere to be found. Neither was their daughter Ellen had mentioned earlier.
“Not to interrupt, but where are Quinn and Luke?” you ask just as Ellen finishes telling Ron and Deb about a recent cruise her and Jim had been on.
“Oh, they took Sarah out for a spin on the boat before dinner. She said she missed the water, so away they went,” Deb explains, looking over to Jack. “She’s so excited to see you again, Jack. She always talks about wanting to get across the bridge to see a game, but you know her, a workaholic and all.”
You sense a slight rigidness in Jack’s body language at the mention of Sarah. He responds with a simple “Yeah, that’s a shame,” not offering any other words about the mystery girl.
You were confused. You had thought Ellen said the boys were friends with Sarah growing up. Why did Jack tense up when she was mentioned? Had there been some sort of falling out? Was he not excited to see her? He hadn’t mentioned anything when you brought her up earlier, causing you to assume he just didn’t know much about her, having lost contact after they both were busy and didn’t have as much time to spend at the lake anymore.
As soon as Jack had finished speaking, you heard loud laughter coming from the long deck at the end of the house’s yard, seeing three figures quickly approaching the porch you were standing on.
“See, told you I could still beat you, just like when I was a kid!” you hear an unfamiliar voice call out, footsteps coming up the wooden stairs leading to the porch.
“Not fair, you didn’t tell me it was a race until you were already at the end of the deck,” you recognize the voice this time, Luke uttering his words between fast breaths.
As you look towards the stairs, you see one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen in your life step onto the porch.
She had jet black hair that fell to her mid back, perfectly pin straight. She had the greenest eyes you think you’d ever seen, and her tan skin was a shade that people usually had to be photoshopped to achieve. She was wearing a sundress similar to yours, but hers was a baby blue color, complementing her skin tone and hair perfectly. It fell right at her mid-thigh, and had a floral print running across the fabric.
“Hey, everyone. Hope we didn’t miss dinner,” she said, waltzing over to the wet bar to grab a bottle of water as Luke and Quinn make their way up the stairs, coming to stand a few feet from you and Jack.
“Oh, not even close, honey. You’re just in time. Your dad and Jim were just about to put the chicken on the grill,” Deb tells her daughter, beaming at her.
She walks over to join everyone, not stopping until she’s stood right in front of Jack.
“Oh, Jacky! I’ve missed you so much! It’s been so long!” she wraps him in a hug. His arms stay pinned to his sides, his body going rigid with discomfort. You notice the looks from Quinn and Luke, confused at their wide eyes.
He coughs, causing her to detach herself from his body, but not removing her hand from his shoulders.
“Well, that hockey training sure has been good to you, hasn’t it Jacky,” she continues, squeezing his biceps with a smirk before dropping her hands, completely ignoring you.
The second her hands leave his body, Jack is stepping back over to you, placing his hand on your waist.
“Uhh, Sarah, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, Sarah,” Jack says, squeezing you to his side.
“Oh! You’re the new girlfriend my mom was telling me about. How sweet!” she coos, placing her hand on her chest. “Jack, she’s so pretty. But, what happened to Macey? You know, the one with the pretty blonde hair? Oh, and the absolute insane body. Seriously, I need her personal trainer’s number,” she asks, looking around at everyone.
You think about your brunette hair and know exactly what she’s trying to do.
“Not in the picture anymore. Didn’t really like the fact that she kept sticking her tongue down some Philly player’s throat when she came to visit me during an away game,” Jack spat out, grinding his teeth.
“What a shame. I liked her,” Sarah waved it off, making a small pout with her lips. “But, I’m sure you’re great too!” she added as an after thought, flashing the fakest smile you’ve ever seen.
You feel a presence step up behind you, Quinn slyly whispering “ex-girlfriend” in your ear, suddenly making Jack’s body language and her backhanded warmth towards you make sense.
“Okay, well, time to go get the food on the grill. Food will be ready in around thirty,” Jim claps his hands together, sensing the need to break up the awkward moment.
“Oh great, I’m absolutely starving,” Sarah exaggerates her last word, turning and walking towards the sliding glass door leading to the kitchen.
You stand there, not knowing how to process what just happened, Jack’s grip on you as tight as ever. You look over to Ellen, who gives you a sympathetic look.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” Deb sighs and shakes her head in amusement, completely oblivious to her daughter’s fake niceness and obvious flirting with Jack. “She’s something else, isn’t she? Such a little firecracker,” she reflects, nothing but adoration in her tone and on her face.
“Yeah, one that backfires into the innocent bystanders,” Quinn mumbles under his breath, earning a snort from Luke. Ellen shoots them a glare, darting her eyes towards Deb to see if she heard, but the older woman was still staring adoringly at her daughter in the kitchen through the glass doors.
Thirty minutes later, just like Jim announced, everyone was sat at the large outdoor table, food covering the large surface.
The food was amazing, the bowl of fruit from earlier long gone as you sat down to fill your plate, wanting seconds of almost everything.
“Jack, will you hand me the potato salad, I swear, I can’t get enough of it,” you ask your boyfriend who’s sitting to your right.
He reaches over and grabs the bowl, scooping a spoonful on to your plate for you. “That good? Or you want more?”
“No, that’s good. Gotta save room for dessert,” you tell him, picking up your fork to dig in.
Jack places his hand on your thigh, smiling over at the little happy dance you do when you scoop the potato salad into your mouth.
“Oh, I’m so full,” you hear Sarah say, raising her voice to make sure the whole table hears her. “I wish I could be like you, Y/N, I’d love to have seconds, but I just cannot hold another bite, I’m already so bloated as it is,” she places her hands over her stomach to emphasize. “You’re so lucky you’ve already snagged a man and don’t have to worry about watching what you eat anymore.”
You stop mid-chew, her words sinking in.
You look around the table, everyone looking at you. Deb and Ron are smiling at you, not at all reacting to their daughter’s words, likely not even understanding the connotation of what she just said. Ellen and Jim are looking at Sarah, their eyebrows raised in shock. Quinn is glaring at her while Luke’s mouth is dropped open.
Jack’s hand is digging into your thigh, his other hand closed, clenches in a tight fist on the tablet next to his glass of water.
You finish chewing your food and swallow thickly, placing your fork down and sliding your plate away from you.
“Oh, no, don’t stop on my account. I’d kill to be able to be as comfortable as you are. Not having to worry about impressing anyone anymore, just being able to know you’re loved, no matter what you look like,” she continues, taking a sip of her water to hide her smirk.
You bow your head, your face a shade of red you can physically feel, refusing to meet anyone’s eye.
Luke coughs, a faint “bitch” heard by your ears.
“Okay, I think it’s time we clear the table for dessert, shall we,” Ellen pipes up, her own smile strained.
“Great idea, let me help you,” Deb, either still oblivious or intentionally ignoring the hurtful nature of her daughter’s words, starts to stand.
“No, I got it,” Jack surprises you by standing, taking everyone’s plates and quickly stomping off of the porch.
You could feel the anger radiating off of him when Sarah was talking, probably choosing to leave the area before he said something he would regret.
“Here, let me help, too,” Sarah stands, taking a few food dishes in her hands and stepping inside behind Jack before anyone could protest.
The table is silent after she leaves. You sit there, debating on just sliding out of your seat and under the table, wanting to hide. Luke, who was sitting next to you, brings his hand over to rest on your shoulder, trying to provide some comfort.
You look over at him to see a concerned look as he mouths a silent “You okay?”, nodding your head yes, despite the heavy feeling in your stomach.
You look up again, straight at Sarah’s parents, wondering how they can be so ignorant about their daughter’s malicious words.
You meet Ellen’s eye, seeing a sad, pleading look, begging you to forgive her with her expression. You give her a small smile, shaking your head to tell her it’s alright.
Ron is the one to finally break the silence, looking around at everyone with a genuine smile, once again proving your suspicion they’re unaware of the shift in atmosphere.
“Ellen, please tell me you made your famous cheesecake. It’s been too long since I’ve had a slice,” he speaks, unable to read the room.
Ellen partakes in empty small talk with Deb and Ron about how she makes her cheesecake when you decided you need to go check on Jack.
“I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go help Jack,” you say flatly, standing from your seat and all but running inside, the urge to walk over and shake the Lawsons while shouting “your daughter’s a bitch!” in their face your cue to leave the table.
You enter the kitchen, seeing the dishes both Sarah and Jack brought in littering the counter, but neither one of them was to be found in the spacious area.
You walk through the house, calling out Jack’s name softly as you pass the stairs, making your way to the small sitting room at the front of the house.
“Jack, I don’t get it. What does she have that I don’t? What about her makes her any better than me?” you hear the sound of Sarah’s voice coming from the foyer.
“What the hell do you mean? Everything! She has everything you don’t!” you hear Jack exclaim, stopping in your tracks.
Were they talking about you?
“Jack, we were good together! We had fun. I don’t understand why you ended things between us. Hell, I took a job in New York because you said you were probably going to New Jersey to play. We could have been the new it couple of New Jersey!” it was Sarah’s turn to raise her voice.
Jack shakes his head, a dry laugh making its way out of his mouth. “What part of I didn’t want to don’t you understand?” Jack spits out. “You had fun. You chose to move to New York. You thought were good together. There was never any we in any of that.”
You can practically see the veins popping out on Jack’s forehead through his tone, even though they were out of view.
“All you ever cared about when we were together was the fact that I was about to play professional hockey. You didn’t care about me, you just cared about what I could offer you!” he shouts again. “The fact you just admitted you cared more about being the “it” couple more than you cared about wanting to be with me proves it.”
“Well, sue me for wanting to live the life of the rich and famous,” Sarah says, scoffing.
“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Jack huffs out. “Y/N doesn’t care about living the life of the rich and famous. She just wants me. She wants Jack, not ‘Jack Hughes, star forward, number one overall draft pick’,” he puts on his announcer voice.
“All my life, people have only ever cared about how well I played hockey. Every coach, every teammate, every girl. They all saw me as a hockey player. They wanted me on their team, or in their bed, because they wanted what came with me: attention and popularity,” Your heart breaks at Jack’s voice, never having heard him sound so deflated before.
“Hell, you introduced me to people as a future professional hockey player before you ever introduced me to them as your boyfriend,” he continues. “With Y/N, that’s far from the most interesting thing about me. When she first introduced me to her family, she told them I was her best friend’s brother,” he refers back to the first time you took him home to meet your family, the subject of hockey not coming up until your dad asked if he liked sports, only to berate him for not being a football player. Later that night he asked him how hockey worked. Your dad has never missed a Devils game since, either in person or on tv.
“Her favorite fun fact to tell people about me isn’t a stat, or how many hat tricks I’ve scored,” he keeps going. “It’s that I love to sing Shakira when I’m in the shower. Or that I’m the only other person other than her dad that has ever made her laugh so hard water has come out of her nose,” Jack lightly laughs.
“Hey, Y/N, everything okay-“ you hear Quinn’s voice rounding the corner.
Cutting him off with a “shhh” you place your finger on your mouth to tell him, and Luke who trails behind him, to be quiet, pointing to the sitting room where Jack and Sarah are arguing.
“So, yeah, I would say I’m sorry you didn’t get what you wanted out of me, but I’m not. I’m not sorry that I broke things off with you. I’m not sorry that I found someone that actually loves me for who I am. And I’m not sorry that I brought the woman that I plan on marrying here with me, and you just so happened to be here too,” Jack tells her, his voice still holding a slight trace of anger.
“I am sorry that I never told my parents what really went down between us, telling them we just agreed it would be too hard and we needed to go back to being friends, because maybe they wouldn’t have invited you over tonight. I am sorry that I didn’t take Y/N out for dinner, trying to avoid what’s happening right now. I am sorry that you can’t begin to fathom someone can see through your forced smiles and backhanded comments, seeing how cold and rotten you really are on the inside. And I am sorry that your poor, sweet parents were given such a malicious bitch as a daughter,” He finishes.
“You know, my mom said Ellen told her you showed her a ring, but I thought it was just a gift. You’re really going to propose to her?” Sarah asks, annoyance clear in her voice, spitting out her last word with unmistakeable disgust.
“Of course it’s true. Bought the ring months ago, been carrying it around with me every since. Showed mom the night she met her, told her I was serious about her and that she’s the one. I think part of me knew that from the moment I met her,” you hear Jack say, hearing the tenderness in his voice when the subject turns to you.
Your head whips over to Luke and Quinn, your eyes wide and your mouth handing open. The panicked look on their faces is all the confirmation you need to know that you heard Jack right. He bought you a ring. He bought you a ring and showed his mom. He bought you a ring and showed his mom and was going to propose to you.
Before you know what you’re doing, your body is leading you to the entryway where your boyfriend is arguing with his ex-girlfriend.
“Y/N, no, wait,” Quinn tries to stop you, but it’s too late.
“You bought me a ring?” you ask as you enter the room, seeing Jack and Sarah standing several feet apart from each other.
“Oh, great, the woman of the hour,” Sarah rolls her eyes at you, throwing her arms up and letting them fall to her side.
You shoot her a glare, not at all concerned about her comments from earlier anymore.
You turn your head to Jack, who’s face looked as panicked at Luke and Quinn’s.
“Jack, you said you bought me a ring. Is that true?” you ask him, begging him to answer you.
Jack gulps, nodding his head yes.
“Right…” is all you can say, trying to digest what’s happening.
You look back and forth between Jack and Sarah, your gaze finally landing on the unimpressed one of Sarah.
“Listen, I don’t care what happened between you and Jack however many years ago, but I don’t appreciate you coming to his family’s house and acting like a nasty bitch to me because you got dumped and I’m the one getting the ring,” you tell her, earning a shocked scoff from her. “So, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you took your nasty attitude and sad insecurities out of this house and elsewhere. I have something I need to discuss with the man that chose me .”
You hear the faint snorts of Quinn and Luke behind you, while Jack’s face moves from panicked to shocked as he looks between the two of you.
“God, you don’t have to ask me twice. All of this melodrama is giving me a headache. You’re not worth this. I can get any guy from the Knicks roster, I don’t need to waste my time on hockey players anymore,” Sarah says before she storms out of the room.
You watch her go, giving her a sweet smile and a wave on her way out.
“That was…the hottest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” Jack tells you, walking over to where you stood.
You roll your eyes at him, hitting him in the chest once he gets close enough to you.
“Ow! What was that for?” Jack asks you, rubbing where you thumped him
“For not telling me that Sarah was your ex-girlfriend when I was telling you how excited I was to meet her earlier” you exclaim while looking up at him, poking him in the chest with each word
“I didn’t want you to feel like you had anything to be worried about and get even more in your head about this dinner,” he tells you, grabbing your finger and pushing your hand down to your side.
“Yeah, well a lot of good that did,” you roll your eyes, bringing your hand up to softly smack his chest again.
“God, woman, stop hitting me!” Jack yelps again. “What the hell was that one for?”
“For buying me a ring only a few months into our relationship! And then for not telling me you were going to propose, you idiot!” you exclaim, throwing your arms around.
“Well, I don’t know if you know this or not, but most proposals are usually a surprise,” he tells you, grabbing your arms and holding them apart, preventing you from hitting him again.
“Still. Why would you buy it so soon into us dating, Jack? What if you ended up hating me once we hit six months, or you found out I snored and decided you didn’t want to share a bed with me for the rest of your life?” you ask him, earning a laugh from your boyfriend.
“I knew that you were it from the moment I met you. There’s absolutely no chance of me ever getting sick of you, or hating you,” Jack tells you honestly, the intensity behind his eyes causing you to believe his words. “Also, you do snore, and I think it’s cute, don’t worry.”
You try to hit his chest again, but your arms are still being held by his hands.
“So, is this a good time for me to say I never really liked Sarah,” Luke chimes in, reminding you that him and Quinn are standing in the entrance of the room.
“Luke, you’re such an idiot,” Quinn tells him, flicking him on the back of his curly head.
“What? It’s true. I liked Y/N the second I met her, but Sarah was always just a bitch,” Luke rubs the back of his head as he speaks. “Why do you think Quinn and I took one for the team and took the wicked witch out on the boat so we could keep her out of your hair for as long as possible?”
“Thanks, Luke,” you chuckle, shaking your head.
“Well, I guess it’s time to tell mom that she knows you’re proposing,” Quinn says, looking towards Jack.
“Oh, no, no one is going to know that she knows. I had this whole thing planned out, and I’m not letting Y/N ruin her own proposal,” Jack says, finally letting go of your hands.
“Do I at least get to see the ring?” you ask him, hopeful.
“Nope,” Jack shakes his head, popping the ‘p’.
You huff, crossing your arms and looking at him with a pout, until you remember his words from a few minutes before.
“Wait, you told Sarah you carry the ring with you everywhere, does that mean it’s here? In this house?” Jack’s face falls, eyes looking anywhere but your own.
“No…”
Your face lights up, looking towards the stairs before back at Jack, turning and making a run for your room.
“Oh no, you don’t!” he runs after you, catching up to you in no time.
He grabs you by your torso and swings you around, sitting you back at the bottom of the stairs as he guards them.
“Not fair, your stupid hockey speed and reflexes can shove it,” you pout again.
As you stand at the bottom of the stairs, Quinn and Luke watch the two of you, admiring how perfect the two of you are for each other.
Luke thinks back to when he decided to introduce you to his older brother, knowing he made the right decision, the two of you bringing out the best versions of the other.
And when he stands, hidden with his family as he watches his brother get down on one knee, proposing to the girl that stood at the bottom of the stairs, demanding to see her ring, he knew sneaking into Jack’s room and moving the ring to his own room was the right move, the shock on your face worth the two week long silent treatment you gave him when you found out what he had done.
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cozage · 3 months
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Hii!! Can you write some headcanon about how they are with their s/o after 20 or 30 years passed? Or in their old age. Ace Law and Zoro please.(Please include Ace. You know what i mean right? 🥺) With a female reader. Thank you ❤️
A/N:Forgive any typos please :) Characters: gn reader x Ace, Law, Zoro Cw: None :) Total word count: 1k
Years Passed
Ace
After Whitebeard passed, Ace was one of the top contenders to lead the pirate crew, but ultimately the Whitebeard Pirates disbanded. It didn’t feel right without Pops. The two of you sailed around with a smaller ship for a few years before retiring to your favorite island.
That being said, you all still take trips to other islands or sail for a while to celebrate special occasions. 
While you all don’t go out drinking nearly as much as you used to, you’re still regulars at the local tavern. On Friday nights they like to play music, and you trade stories with the new “kids” who are brave enough to take on the Grand Line.
He still brings you breakfast in bed every Saturday morning, complete with fresh-cut flowers. Breakfast is never the same; he always seems to know just what you're in the mood for.
You all ended up having kids. Ace wanted one hundred, but you cut him off after three. 
He still likes to bring home a stray kid he found on the side of the street every now and then, and you never minded having the extra rooms filled for as long as they needed to stay. Some stayed for only a few days, some stayed for years. You loved them all the same.
Just about every night, the two of you make it a priority to sit out and watch the sunset. The moments together are truly what makes life feel worth living
Even after all these years, he sticks up for you and loves you without shame. He’s never afraid to show you off or plant a kiss on your lips when he thinks someone else is eyeing you. He loves to brag about you and all of the light you’ve given him over the years to just about anyone who will listen. 
Law
It took Law a long time to find a place worth settling down in. You all finally decided on Zou.
It made sense. He was a wandering spirit, Zou was a wandering civilization. He could still move about while being in one place. Plus, you always had a feeling he would have a harder time parting with Bepo than he ever let on. 
He ended up working as a doctor for the minks (no surprise there) and found that his favorite part of the day was when he got to help kids feel better. 
Your moment of peace and tranquility, even after all these years, is the morning cup of coffee you all share. You never get tired of that simple moment between the two of you, and you cherish it with your whole heart. 
Every Friday, Bepo’s family comes over for dinner. The kids typically put on some silly play or performance or rope you all into games they want to play, and you all will stay awake far longer than you ever care to admit. 
You always complain about how exhausted you are on Saturdays, and Law promises “We’ll kick them out earlier next week”, but you never do. You would never want to limit your time with Bepo and his family anyway, the complaining is more to get out of any chores you may have promised to do. 
Law loves in the quietest of ways. He prefers to stay in and curl up on the couch, or he’ll bring you a book to read in bed alongside him. But he never goes to sleep without kissing you first. 
Zoro
Zoro still groans when you get out of bed. He almost always pulls you back in with a “five more minutes” mumble. You had begun accounting for this delay years ago, but it still makes your heart flutter when he pulls you back in and wraps his arms around you so that you can���t escape. 
He runs his own dojo now, that operates solely off of donations (and the load of gold you all have from your pirating days). Kids can come to practice, or they can live and work there too. It’s a very satisfying occupation for both of you. 
Funnily enough, Zoro found a strange love for cooking. Well, grilling. He loves to grill. You used to joke about it being a necessary qualification to be a dad, but now he just tries to grill everything. Dinner is almost always covered, but you never know what new thing he’s going to try (and yes, he does have a really corny apron like “#1 Grillmaster” or something).
He likes to stay in most of the time nowadays. If you go out, it’s usually to a small place that is more family-style than bars. 
However, he likes to go to a bar with you sometimes and pretend that you all don’t know each other. He’ll spend the whole night flirting with you and finally end the night with “So, you coming home with me or what?”. He ALWAYS has new pickup lines or witty things to say to you. 
Zoro prefers to keep you to himself. He guards you fiercely and will defend you to death if someone even considers looking at you wrong. The first thing he teaches at the dojo is that you deserve respect above anyone else, and disrespect to you will mean immediate dismissal from the program. He can’t stand to see anything that might cause you pain.
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konigsblog · 5 months
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i’m weirdly obsessed with all your thoughts about könig or whoever stalking and kidnapping their fav porn star to make their own content (fun thought: if said star specialized in cnc and other hardcore content in the first place, so he can keep uploading stuff, showing off all the ways he rapes and tortures her, so he can read comments of people celebrating it)
photo credit; @ave661
tw/cw; — non-con/rape, kidnapping, porn addict!könig x pornstar!afab!reader, dark content. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. MDNI 18+
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könig can't help his creepy obsession with his favourite pornstar.
könig spends the majority of his day laying around, constantly checking your twitter for new tweets, in the hopes of a new release. he especially adores you because you specialise in darker porn, with taboo themes that leave his hung, girthy cock sore. whether that's acting as if you're someone's stepsister or roleplaying being raped brutally. könig truly believes that deep down, you want to be raped and that you need to be taken away and taken advantage of in his cold, dirty basement, treated like a slave.
oh, isn't he so corrupted and immoral, mäusi?
you're used to having fans come up and drool over you in public, usually depraved and older men, just like könig. they'll stare at your supple tits while slurring their speech drunkenly, reeking of sweat and alcohol. their eyes are half-lidded, with their boners clearly obvious from the bulge it creates in their trousers. and könig isn't an exception to this group of deranged males.
he'll tap your shoulder gently, already stumbling over his words as he gazes at you with heart eyes. he'll ask for a photo—to get off to in private—and ask for a hug from his favourite pornstar. most men don't ask for a hug, but before you could deny him and push him away, he was already pulling you in and groping your pretty body. his calloused, large hands immediately went to your tight ass as he fondled your rear, practically hunching over your form as he huffed at your sweet perfume.
when he finally has you exactly where he wants you, locked away in his dirty basement, he's excited to finally strap you down to a metal table and rape you until his legs give out. each thrust is brutal and ruthless, the lights in your face blinding your vision, unable to fight him from the tight restraints on your wrists and ankles, sobbing out pathetically and accepting defeat against the large, brute man, hoping that he'll find it in him to be tender and gentle with you.
he's disturbing, that's for certain—clear as day. he gets off to these videos he takes in private, stroking his lengthy dick sloppily and uploading them for some easy money. you're forced by könig to call your family and say that you're happy and safe and that you started a new life with your ‘husband’. people don't suspect anything; they just assume your content has become more extreme, leaving you as könig's captive and his pet.
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hemmingsleclerc · 6 months
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Just saw the video of Nico hulkenberg and kmag daughters getting into the paddock can u write one with Olivia and max and she watches him getting pole 🥺🥺😘
Watching papa win ┃MV1
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The sun beat down on the Miami race track, casting long shadows over the Red Bull Racing garage. Max was next to his blue Formula 1 car, focused and determined. But today, there was an extra sparkle in his eyes as he looked over to where his wife, Y/N, and his seven-year-old daughter, Olivia, stood in the shadows, warmly watching his every move.
Olivia was practically filled with excitement, her little hand gripping her mother's tightly as they looked down the runway. It was a special day for her; the first time she was allowed into the inner sanctum of the garage during a race. She wore a miniature Red Bull Racing cap perched precariously on her head, eyes wide in shock as she watched the flurry of activity around her.
Y/N smiled at her daughter, her own heart racing with anticipation. She looked at Max, who gave her a reassuring nod before putting on his helmet and getting ready to hit the track.
When the race began, Olivia's eyes were glued to the screens that showed the action taking place on the track while she grabbed the headphones made just for her because these were smaller than the others. She cheered loudly as her father made his way through the group, his car was the fastest than the others and sometimes she had a hard time finding it on the screen. With each lap he passed, her excitement grew and her little fists clenched in anticipation.
Then, as the final laps approached, Max made his move, overtaking his closest rival with a daring maneuver that left the crowd in awe. As he crossed the finish line, cheers erupted from the RB garage and Olivia could barely contain herself.
"Mommy, did you see that? Papa won! Papa won!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down with unbridled joy.
Y/N laughed, caught up in her daughter's infectious enthusiasm. "Yes, sweetheart, we saw! Your papa did amazing!"
As cameras snapped to capture the celebrations in the Red Bull garage, they approached Olivia, her face beaming with pride as she clapped and cheered on her father. Max, with his own palpable excitement, rushed to take his daughter into his arms and planted a kiss on her forehead while he held his wife by her waist as the crowd roared in adoration.
"Papa did it, Liv! We did it!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with emotion.
Olivia laughed with joy and put her arms around her father's neck as he carried her to the podium. While Max stood proudly atop the podium, with the winner's trophy held high above his head, Olivia watched with bright eyes and a heart full of pride alongside her mother.
And when the cameras flashed and the crowd erupted in cheers once again, Olivia knew this was a moment she would never forget. For today, she had witnessed her father's triumph firsthand, and nothing could beat the feeling of seeing him win with her own eyes.
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another-lost-mc · 1 year
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a/n: this is for a friend that celebrated a birthday this week. I hope it was a good one! 🎉
when it's mc's birthday | the demon brothers
2.6k words | nsfw | gn!reader | fluff and non-explicit smut
cw: my fav bias is showing again. mostly soft!demons. car sex; levi's tail gets its own warning; bathing together and bath tub sex; dream magic and implied dream sex.
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Lucifer plans your birthday with the utmost care. He booked a reservation at your favourite restaurant so that he can treat you to an intimate dinner. He remembered the various items you've pointed out to him in the past while browsing through the Devildom's shopping district. He went back and bought every single one of them, and they're already wrapped and tucked away in the back of his closet for later.
After he walks you home from the restaurant, there's a bottle of Demonus on ice waiting in his room. You share a toast while he watches you open your gifts. You kiss his cheek, eyes shimmery and warm with so much affection, and he can't resist the urge to kiss you properly. A soft, booze-sweetened kiss leads to another kiss, and another, and another after that. He strips your clothes off slowly, like he's unwrapping a gift of his own. He memorizes the sight of your body stretched languidly against his dark sheets. He almost feels selfish for a moment because he wants you so desperately, but the lust simmering in your gaze makes his heart race. He knows how much you want him too, and he's powerless to deny you.
The first time he makes love to you, it's heat and frenzied passion, the build-up of coy anticipation that finally boiled over. He reaches for you throughout the night between quiet conversation and short naps. Each time he pulls your body close to his again, his lips whisper tender confessions against the delicate shell of your ear while he worships your body with his over and over again.
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Mammon isn't very subtle. In the days leading up to your birthday, he asks random questions about things you might like or activities you're interested in. He wants to get a head start and beat his brothers to the punch. His fake nonchalance isn't convincing, but it's still endearing how much he truly cares. Who else should celebrate your birthday if not him? He's your first, and he's not going to let anyone else spoil you more than he does.
He tries to budget his money and curb his spending so he can afford whatever it is you ask for. If that fails, he takes on some less-than-prestigious part-time gigs for extra cash. You could ask him for the world and he'd find a way to scrimp and save and scavenge and steal if he has to so he can give you whatever you want. He doesn’t realize (or doesn't believe) that his company is what makes your birthday really special.
He dresses up nice and polishes his car to a high-shine to match your own stunning smile and natural radiance. It doesn’t matter what you wear because when he tells you how gorgeous you are, he’s so sincere. You outshine all the riches and jewels he used to dream about—now he dreams of you instead.
He takes you on a date that's sweet and light-hearted. He holds your hand and stares at you across the table with a dopey grin on his face when he thinks you're not looking. Once you're alone in his car, that boyish giddiness fades into something greedy and confident. You meet him halfway when he leans over to give you a kiss. When kissing isn't enough for either of you, you push the seat back so he can climb over and settle between your legs. He takes you apart in the cramped front seat of his car until your voice is hoarse and you push him away from sensitivity. The car smells musky with sweat and cum and he doesn't care that you made a bit of a mess on the seat. He palms himself on the drive home, and by the time you get to his room, he's eager to do it all over again in the comfort of his bed.
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Levi isn't sure what to do for your birthday, but you offer to plan a little outing for the two of you. All he has to do is keep you company, right? He braces himself with a mantra he repeats over and over in his head: do it for them, do it for them, do it and LIKE IT because you love them. It ends up being a lot more fun than he expects: a lunch date at one of the cafes you both like followed by a movie you’ve been excited to see. You don’t make fun of his sweaty palm when you hold hands in line to buy movie tickets and overpriced snacks at the concession bar. There's a cute plushie on display where they sell collectible merch. He buys that for you too and shoves it into your arms before you can protest.
He relaxes when you take your seats and the theatre lighting dims as the movie starts. You lean against his shoulder and he's glad you can't see how pink his cheeks are. Partway through the film, he decides he likes the movie, but not as much as he enjoys your warm fingers laced with his.
He jolts suddenly when you pull your hand away and slide your fingers onto his denim-clad thigh instead. Your fingers squeeze with the tiniest bit of pressure and he nearly gasps at the unexpected wave of lust that washes over him. He glances at you in confusion—you're still focused on the screen, but he can see the little smile curling the edge of your mouth. He squirms a little and pretends not to notice your fingers drawing lazy circle-eights across his jeans, inching higher up his leg when he doesn’t stop you. And you're right, he's not going to stop you. You run a fingertip over the growing bulge hardening against the zipper of his jeans, just as you feel his tail slide onto your lap and tease the sensitive skin between your legs.
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Satan decides to take a different approach when he sees how overwhelmed you are by his brothers' plans for your birthday. Sometimes simple is best and what could be more relaxing or romantic than your favourite home-cooked meal? He fusses in the kitchen until everything is cooked exactly to your liking, and the dish he serves you looks as good as it smells. His room is tidied enough so that a small table fits—he doesn’t want the others bothering you if he serves you in the dining room. There are dozens of candles that cast you both in an ethereal glow while you eat together. His room might not offer the rich ambience of Ristorante Six or the electric atmosphere of The Fall, but nothing outshines the romance he creates here, just for you.
Once dinner is finished and he tidies up the mess, he pulls you to your feet and wraps his arms around you in a slow dance. It's more like swaying back and forth together as a classical record plays quietly in the background. Candlelight flickers playfully along the walls of his room, and your face is painted by a mirage of shadow and flame. He eagerly traces those shapes on your skin with his tongue after he lays you on his bed, and by the time you're shaking and falling apart in his arms, you'll know how much he loves you.
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Your birthday is another chance for Asmo to spoil you. Throughout the afternoon, he leads you to each of his favourite boutiques in the Devildom's shopping district. He holds up dozens of clothes against your body and admires how the colours bring out your eyes or compliment your complexion or how luxurious the fabrics are. He pretends that he didn't pick all these out to show you (and buy them for you) in advance.
When he finally takes you to Majolish, his greatest gift is revealing that he personally designed this outfit specially for you. It fits flawlessly and even you think you look amazing. It’s obvious that he poured his love and passion into creating this for you when no one else ever has before. It’s almost overwhelming, the way his smile radiates warmth when he looks at you. His eyes burn with all the ravenous love he feels for you. He loses control of himself and kisses you, pressing you against the changing room wall and sliding his thigh between yours. He doesn't want to stop, but he doesn’t have the time or space to touch you properly here. When he pulls his leg out from between yours, he misses the searing heat of your body against his. Perhaps it’s for the best that he take you home first—he would hate to get stains on your new outfit so soon.
(He originally planned on taking you to The Fall but he changed his mind. He’s not in the mood to share you with anyone else tonight.)
When he takes you home, he leads you straight to his private bathroom and urges you to get undressed while he gets everything ready. He draws a warm bath and the steamy air clings to you both like a second skin. You feel self-conscious about being naked even though he stands before you, waist-deep in the bathwater and just as naked as you are. He takes your hand and pulls you gently into the water with him. He supports your weight when you lean against his chest and his hands start to wander over your body. His fingers leave a soapy trail up and down your spine. He cradles your neck and leans forward, capturing your lips in another kiss because he can't possibly wait anymore.
The kiss reignites both your desperate desires to touch and be touched. He walks you back towards the edge of the tub. When your back touches the cool marble stone, he reaches behind your thighs and lifts you onto the edge; he swallows your half-hearted protest with his lips moving greedily against yours. His mouth moves away from yours, ghosting along the curve of your jaw and down your neck while his fingers gently pry your legs apart. He bends his head low once you’re spread open for him, hot and trembling and all his. His eyes glow bright when you tangle your fingers in his hair, and it’s the last thing you see before he dips his head between your legs.
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It's not surprising that Beel plans to take you out for dinner on your birthday. It's a tricky proposition because it's easy for him to lose control of his hunger when he goes out to eat. He doesn't want his sin to ruin your birthday dinner, so he eats a meal's worth of food beforehand. Having a partially-full stomach means he's not going to be completely distracted by hunger—he wants to focus on you.
He likes taking you to nice restaurants and your birthday is no exception. You put on a new outfit he’s never seen you wear before, but it looks so good on you that he's drooling from the corner of his mouth before you even leave the house. The restaurant is cozy and everything on the menu sounds delicious. Your nose bunches up adorably when you can't decide what to order, and Beel suggests ordering one of everything. He laughs deep in his belly when you glance at him skeptically over the brim of your menu. His eyes are bright with mischief even though you know he's dead-serious. He simply grins at you from across the table and reminds you that he won't let the food wouldn’t go to waste.
It doesn't take long for your food to arrive. Beel enjoys watching you eat while you make little sounds of contentment between bites. He offers you food from his own plate to try. When your plate is empty, he worries you might still be hungry; he's only satisfied when you promise that you're close to bursting and completely full. He leads you out of the restaurant by the hand, and his other hand carries a bag full of leftovers to share with you tomorrow.
When he walks you home, he doesn't want to seem needy or presumptuous even though he's reluctant to end the night so soon. He pauses outside your door and kisses you softly, whispering happy birthday against your lips that still taste sweet from your dessert earlier. He can’t resist swiping his tongue across the seam of your mouth for one more taste, and the kiss deepens when you part your lips for him. You only break the kiss just long enough to open your door and pull him inside your room before slamming the door shut again. Your hands tug impatiently at his waist, and he shivers at the metallic clink of his belt buckle coming undone. He can sense hunger rising inside you again, and when he pushes you gently onto the mattress and covers your body with his own, he realizes your appetite is as insatiable as his own.
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Belphie doesn't mind if the others want to take the initiative and plan your birthday party. He prefers it that way, actually. When his brothers ask for his input, he recommends something casual at the house, nothing too fancy. He wants you to be happy and relaxed and spoiled where you can be comfortable.
He sneaks into town to buy you a gift before the party, of course—something you mentioned to him in passing once that was too expensive for you to justify buying at the time. He and Beel wrap the presents they bought you in their room. Belphie's present looks insignificant compared to the large pile of gifts stacked near your birthday cake. He's not worried, especially when your eyes light up when you open it. You're just as appreciative of his small gift as you are of the others you receive. He knows you so well.
(You keep the contents of his card to yourself: a reminder that he has something special to give you later.)
Sometimes when he takes you to the attic for bed, he falls back against the mattress and waits impatiently for you to crawl on top of him. There's no hint of his lazy smugness tonight though. His hands are gentle but efficient when he strips your clothes away first before taking off his own. He follows you down onto the bed and smothers your body with his. The soft mattress cushions you when he grinds against you, and it squeaks from the force of his thrusts when he rocks inside you too. Your skin is littered with the little marks he sucks and nibbles into your skin. He cleans you with a warm, damp cloth after because your thighs and belly are covered in a sticky mess of you and him. He takes care of you with so much tenderness. You’re already snoring lightly by the time he's finished, and he cuddles against you with a yawn.
Shortly after you fall asleep, you dream of him. It’s a shared illusion between you conjured with the sleepy brand of magic he commands. You writhe against him in your sleep as the embers of lust continue to burn deep inside you. When the dream ends, you both wake up and instinctively reach for each other as the remnants of the dream fades away. He kisses you breathless despite your stale morning breath. You whimper against his mouth and he rolls over until you're underneath him again. After indulging in a night of dreamy, lustful sins, you're both still desperately eager for more.
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read more: obey me masterlist
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scarletwinterxx · 5 months
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morning with birthday boy - dad jeno scenario
Helllloooooo so i got this request for our birthday boy🥺🤍 extra fluffy for this very special day. Hope you like it!!!
omggg pls pls make a jeno dad scenario for his birthday, maybw surprising him or something ?? 🥹🥹🥹 imagine him having a son who looks exactly like him when he was a kid 😭😭
For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.
and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)
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You and your son woke up early to make birthday pancakes for the birthday boy. It's a tradition that started years ago when you and Jeno started dating, he knew you loved pancakes so he took you out for breakfast and surprised you with a tall stack of your favorite pancake with a pink candle on top.
Now years later, here you are in your kitchen cooking pancakes with your son, Geonu, about to surprise your husband.
Geonu, now two years old, is at that age where you can let him join the fun. You love cooking and baking so usually he'd be right beside you as your little helper.
"Mommy, owy" his term for chocolate, pointing at the bowl of chocolate chips
"Want to put the choco chips? Okay, you do it like this" you carry him up, showing how and where to sprinkle it. You let him get a handful before you do the same, a few got stuck between his fingers and he immediately taste it
"You silly boy, you only wanted to get the chocolate huh" you tickle him, eliciting giggles from your little boy. Geonu is a splitting imagine of Jeno, when he was born and Jeno's mom said he look3d exactly like Jeno when he was born. And as the years passed by Geonu's showing more resemblance with his father.
Your favorite one being their identical eye smile.
You finish cooking the pancakes, fixing a stack to surprise Jeno with. Carrying the plate in one hand and Geonu with your other.
Opening your bedroom door, you see your husband still fast asleep. His bare back towards the door, you set Geonu on the bed and he immediately crawls towards his dad. Climbing on his back and laying his head right on Jeno's head.
Jeno feels something on his cheek, something settles on his back too. After a few seconds he can feel something wet on his cheek, a tiny voice gurggling.
A smile appears on his face before he could even open his eyes. He peaks with one eye, turning to see you at the edge of the mattress with a plate of pancakes and his son giving him his morning kisses
"Good morning, happy birthday baby" you tell him. He carefully move Geonu from his back to his lap, sitting up to blow the candle
"Geonu, let's make a wish. Okay 1 2 3" the little boy blowing the candle with Jeno, you sit infront your boys watching them with smitten eyes
"Thank you, baby" he tells you, leaning over to give you a kiss
"So how does it feel to be a year older?"
"I'm only a few months older, this would be you soon" he teases you back
One of many birthdays you've celebrated together and now you have your little bundle of joy to celebrate with. There's really nothing Jeno would wish for, he already has everything he needs. He used to wonder if settling down was something he'd do, he didn't really see himself as a family man. He's fine being on his own until he met you.
Ever since then, there isn't a moment he wanted to be alone ever again. He knew he was going to spend the rest of his birthdays with you the moment you smiled so big at him at that breakfast diner a few years ago.
He finally knew what real contentment feels and it's this. Mornings with you and the little boy who is equal parts of him and you. Celebrating birthdays with a tradition the two of you made.
"Let's have breakfast downstairs, I made eggs and bacon and coffee" you tell him, getting Geonu from then standing up from the bed.
Jeno sets the plate down on the bedside table before giving you a hug by the waist. Your hand finds his hair, giving him a half hug.
"I love you so so so much" he mumbles, looking up at you
You lean down to kiss him again, after a few seconds you feel a hand separate the two of you making the two of you laugh
"Uhhhh what is this? She's mine before she was yours" Jeno tells his son, giving his tummy tickles.
"Okay okay let's go get breakfast, we have a full day ahead. You go get dressed" you tell Jeno, knowing full well what's underneath the sheets
He smirks at you, waving as you walk out the door
After a few seconds you peak your head by the door, "I love you too" you say then you walk away. Jeno smiles, his eyes disappearing as the familiar feelings envelops him again. Like he's falling inlove with you for the first time again.
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bleuside97 · 1 year
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Licking Your Wounds
paring: boxer!jk x fem!reader
genre: jealous boyfriend
summary: Jungkook wins his boxing match so y/n gives him his special prize.
warnings: smut, jungkook eats y/n out in his dressing room, cussing, he dominant ash, he smirks like 71682 times, JK is such a flirt, jungkook is a simp for y/n
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The huge arena fills with a roar as the crowd goes wild for the one and only Jeon Jungkook. Worldview Champion with a legacy of being 19 times undefeated. Everyone loves him. The crowd cheers for Jungkook, another win, leaving his opponent on the floor of the ring. The referee blows his whistle and gestures with this hands the fight was over. He raises Jungkook's right arm above his head clearing victory. Triumph he looks to the crowd all giddy and coy. The winner smiles at the crowd giving a respectful bow to the crowd, referee, then to his opponent. Thanking him and sure to shake his hand in all respects.
He makes sure he was fine before walking out of the ring. Walking down the steps to his manager massaging his shoulders. Praising him for another win. He doesn't seem to care too much for the praise. But he was looking for you backstage. And there you were within the sidle lines waiting for him to praise him along with his team. Cheering him on he walks towards you. He smirked and turned your way, winking.
He wiped his bloody nose and the sweat dripped down his forehead. “That win was for you, y/n.” He panted out of breath. His team rushed to cool him off with a mini fan and towels wiping off the sweat of his body. He sits in a chair to rest himself after the match as the members tend to him. His mind unable to think straight. So much happening at once. His thoughts can't help but remain on the incident that happened earlier that day. Jungkook caught you speaking to another guy backstage. In his mind he thinks that guy was making a move on you. In reality, you guys were only talking about the success of your boyfriend. Unfocused eyes he scolds, "I'm still not happy because of that guy flirting with you." He cocks an eyebrow at you waiting for your answer.
"You're way too jealous for your own good." You chuckled, grabbing his cheeks and pressing a long kiss to his lips. Pulling away you take one of your hands to scrunch his sweaty shirtless pecs.
"And you're way too stunning to be on your own." He smirked out playfully, he bites his lip looking down at you. while you admiring my six-pack abs that he's been working hard on. He pushes his tongue to his inner cheek, cockily. Pulling you up, he wrapped my free arm around your body. "Come with me."
You take his free hand without hesitation. "Where are we going, Jk?" Y/n uses one of the many nicknames given to him, her favorite was Jk commonly used but sweet and meaningful to her lover.
"We are going to my dressing room, babe." He smirked back. Dragging y/n to his dressing room. Finally arriving in the room he makes sure she gets in first before he does, slamming the door behind him. His back aggressively hits the door then his hand. He closes his eyes shaking his head. Y/n only stands in front of him. Goggling at his bare chest, heave up and down. Her eyes make their way down to his big arms. Right arm filled with beautiful tattoos. While the other one is bare. Then his hands, his big vainy hands. She loves his fingers especially. She needs his fingers.
He notices your staring and pulls you closer towards him, caressing your sides while pulling you along, your faces only a few inches apart. "And I got ... reward for you." You mumbled out, smirking. "I suppose we got some celebrating to do, congrats on winning, I knew you could do it!" His wanting hands caressing you in all the right places. His sweat beading down the ends of his hair and forehead down to his abs. You watched the sweat drip all the way down to his chest. You happily smirked thinking of all the things you want him to do to her.
He couldn't control himself. The rush of the fight along with your looks made it hard to keep his hands to himself."How about some more .. celebration?" He mumbled out, smirking. Jungkook pushed your back against the wall, his lips on yours as he pressed up against you. Your back only ached for a few seconds consumed by the pleasure Jungkook was giving you.
Jungkook began to slip off your shirt. By the hem of it pulling it over your head. Discarding it somewhere on the couch. You bite your bottom lip as Jungkook takes off your clothes. Taking a moment to admire, his eyes locked with yours. He smirked and slowly began to kiss your neck. The feeling of him leaving mouth kisses all on your neck makes you feral. The room was filled with your giggles. The giggles were a sign for him to step it up. His pink lips, soft, but full, was kissing and sucking at your neck. "Don't leave a hickey this time." You demanded him, the last time Jungkook gave you a hickey was when Jungkook was meeting your parents for the first time.
Lucky enough your parents didn't see. Even though, you're a grown woman. It's still embarrassing when your parents know you're having sex.
"No promises." He grumbled out, smirking. Not caring if there's one or 6 hickeys on your neck. Continuing to kiss and suck the other side of your neck and shoulder. Taking a moment to glance at your neck, there was a hickey from last time. He chuckled. "That thing is still there?"
"You're joking." You pushed him off to touch the spot of where the long term hickey was. You went to the mirror that was in the dressing room, to find that the hickey. She sees the fresh marks Jungkook has just left on her. She rolls her eyes annoyed. He was only being a jerk off. The hickey he pointed out had faded.
Coming behind you in the mirror he rests his head on your shoulder pouting his lips, putting both hands on your sides squeezing them ever so slightly. "C'mon baby, you know I like them." His hands make their way to your thighs. Lightly brisking them. One hand slowly makes its way to your vagina. "Are you wearing underwear?" His cheek, slightly brushing against yours. A slight blush forming on your face while his eyes remain locked on yours through the mirror.
"What if I told you I'm not." You answer in all honesty.
"Just how I like it." He smirked back, his hand smacked your bottom before spinning you to face him. His head cocks towards the couch. He pushes your back to the seat of the couch. You watch him as you spread your legs just enough. His eyes stare at your full body with lust. Thinking of all the things he will do to you. His left hand grips your hip and his spare hand strokes down the inside of your thigh before it reaches your hot core. Waiting for Jungkook to make a move.
Your body shudders when he brushes your clit, the direct contact is not enough for you. He spreads your lips open playing with them. Eyes looking up to you then to your pussy he's studying you and your reaction. "You're so pretty." He kisses your clit. Your body is responding well and you seem to be aching for his mouth. Aching for him. That's all he ever wanted. The top of his warm tongue licks the top of your clit. He slowly begins to lick up and down across your clit, rolling the bud with his tongue a few times. He carefully bites down the bud. You react with you thrusting your hips to his face. He enjoys seeing you squirm under him. You moan out. Circling is tounge in you he begins to suck your clit earning another moan from you.
"Fuck, Jungkook." You let a shaky moan. Guiding his head with your hand in his long hair to where you want him. His ears and head filling with pride he can't help but smile. You feel Jungkook chuckle against you. "So good!" Like a vibration in your coochie, it sends you closer and closer to your climax. He continues to fuck you with his tounge in your hole and within seconds he has you squirting. You let out a relief breathe. "Shit." Your back arches. His lips return to yours in a hungry kiss. You can taste your juices on his tongue mixed with his saliva. Your body writhes beneath his, toes curling, teeth digging down on his shoulder in a failed attempt at keeping quiet.
"You taste so good baby..." He whispers out, still nibbling on your bottom lips. Both of your bodies are pressed tighter almost as if they fit perfectly together. He kept tasting your lips with his tongue before moving my lips over to your neck once again.
Eyes, still locked with yours, were filled with passion, love and lust. Knowing you wanted him just as much as you wanted you. Which made the moment much more intense. His bulge throbbed in desire. His fingertips continued to run across your hips.
"You know you're lucky I spoil you." He smirked out, looking into your eyes. Moving hair out of your face to behind your ear. His fingers running through your hair, his lips planted on your forehead, hands sliding down your back, teasing you with the clips of your bra. "He eventually unclips it. Seeing you sit so pretty for him has him hard. He massages your lower back, your legs wrap around his waist. "This good?" He mumbled out in question, still planting small kisses on your shoulder.
"What if someone catches us?" Y/n asks in a soft tone, almost as if you were unsure to speak up.
Eyes look at you. A stoic smirk creeps on his face. "They won't catch us. And if they do, let them watch. They'll just be jealous of this moment, that's all." While his hands slipped lower to the top of your hips. His fingers gently slide underneath. "You don't want me to stop, do you?" You shake your head no.
His eyebrows raise. "Then I won't stop. Not until you beg me to stop. But you have to use your words to stop me, princess."
authors note: hope you like this im honestly kind of proud of this one idek but it could have been better ig. Also, errors if you find any errors like 'my' don't mind it. So, as I said in my last post i'm going to start being more consistent. I'm thinking of posting at least 5 times a week just to start off. If you guys wanna request and talk to me go right ahead. I'm a nice person so feel free to hmu.. ☺️ And you can request me to write anything I won't judge trust me. Also, I'm down to collab with any writers so hmu.
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thebestofoneshots · 6 months
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Waiting For a Girl Like You | wolfstar x reader
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Pairing: R.L.. x S.B. x Gn!Reader (originally written as a woman but then I discovered I hadn't used any pronouns, and the reader was not particularly feminine, so it became my first official GN) Word Count: 5 k Warnings: None Prompt: Unbeknownst to many, your birthday has always been a quiet affair, you don't often celebrate it and you certainly weren't expecting for things to change the moment you met those two, enimagtic boys on your Creative Writing course. You could have not been more mistaken.
I got two requests a couple of weeks ago and I could not fulfil them on time for the life of me. Dear @msblacklupin and @propertyofrjl sent me similar requests about a certain birthday fic and first of all, Guys your birthdays are on the same day, How cool is that!?! Second, I'm so sorry I took so long, but it's finally here!
I decided to combine the prompts since I thought it would be really cute for the story, and this is what I've come up with.
Hope you enjoy, darlings! I'm wishing you all the best! xx Lils
Written for @msblacklupin and @propertyofrjl
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You hadn’t had the best experience with birthdays so far. Back in your hometown, it was the same day as a special celebration of the discovery of the mines and they held a huge, town-wide party for it. The party was great, a fair, balloons, cotton candy, everything great, everything kids loved. Unfortunately, it was so good that people tended to forget about your birthday since they were excited about Mining Day. 
Of course, people close to you remembered (your parents), but even though you had told your friends plenty of times that your birthday was on the same day, it had slipped their minds a good deal of times. You tried to make parties and people would prefer going to see the guest singer invited to the festival. You'd make them the next day and they were too tired to come. 
Eventually, you just gave up on celebrating your own birthday and decided to join the rest on Mining Day, enjoying the candies and everything in between. It might have not been your special day but it was a special day and that was as good as you’d get. Or so you thought. 
When you moved to London for university, you didn’t even think about telling your friends about your birthday, and they hadn’t asked either. That was until you took that Creative Writing side course and met them. You had been on time but the room had been filled to the brim with students, and there was nowhere to sit. You’d huffed and were about to leave to ask for a chair from a different classroom but when you turned around you bumped into the prettiest person your eyes had ever laid eyes upon, piercing grey eyes, long wavy hair, and features so elegant he looked royal.
He smiled, such a pretty smile. “Hey, you were going for one of these? I brought extra,” he said as he pulled one of the chairs up to signal what he was talking about. 
“Yeah,” you said shily. 
“Cool, come along then,” he said and you moved out of the way as he moved with the chairs. He moved his chairs all the way to a table where there was another stunning person sitting down. “What’s your name, Luv?” You replied with your name, soft and polite. “Pretty,” he said, flashing that same smile your way, meaning both you and your name, not that you knew. He accommodated the chairs, one next to each other, wiped his hands on his black jeans and then extended his hand to you. “Sirius Black.” 
You shook his hand and then the other boy’s warm smile caught your eye. “Remus Lupin,” he said with his hand extended as well. He had scars all over his body, but it didn’t make him any less handsome. Were you curious about them? Of course, you were. Were you gonna ask? No way in hell.
The boys had met each other at a boarding school in Scotland and had moved to London recently. Remus wanted to take a lit class and tried to convince his friends to join him but Sirius didn’t love the idea of a class where he’d have to read and analyse books, so he suggested taking something more on the creative side. 
Remus found the Writing Course and Sirius had been more than happy to join him. You and Remus actually had a lot in common, you discovered as the class went on. You had both read a lot, and you veered towards the same authors and storylines. You had an insane passion for Oscar Wilde and he loved Mary Shelly. You sometimes wondered if he liked her so much because of the way she described the Fiend, you truly hoped that wasn’t it, because while you could see how Rem would relate to the monster, you hated the idea of it, since you considered him absolutely stunning. 
Days had gone by, and while you always sat with the boys and hung out with them every time you saw them at school, you hadn’t really seen them outside of it, that was until you got a group assignment and Sirius was quick to place his arms around both you and Rem and claim you as his team. 
Remus scribbled your names on a piece of paper and handed them over to the teacher before she assigned each of you a different subject for your story. You got fantasy. The boys seemed to be diverted when you started talking about mythical creatures and wizards, and you assumed it had something to do with an inside joke they developed through the years of knowing each other.
They invited you over to their apartment that was just next to a corner cafe cleverly named “The Corner” and you had stopped by to get something for you and the boys, since you weren’t sure how long it would take and were now waiting just outside the door to their apartment complex. 
“We’re coming, Sweets,” Sirius’ voice said through the speakers as the door buzzed open to let you in. 
You used your shoulder to push inside and carefully moved the carton with the three coffee cups inside as you entered, your backpack strap got caught in the door and you were forced to turn around to and you opened the door again, placing the paper bag with fresh bread on your mouth to free one of your hands and pulled the strap free. 
When you turned around, you were shocked to find a smiling Sirius right in front of your face. “You shouldn’t have bothered, Luv!” he said and extended his hand towards your mouth, taking the paper bag and then the carton with the coffee from your hand.
“I wanted to,” you said simply. 
Sirius and you went up the stairs, Remus was waiting by the door and the two of them welcomed you in. For an apartment belonging to two boys, it was surprisingly neat. Remus had arranged his coffee table with a few cushions over the rug so you all could sit together, he had a couple of pens and pencils, his notebook and a stunning Remington Typewriter. 
You almost walked straight to look at it when you spotted it on the table, “This is her, isn’t it?” 
“Yeah,” Remus said as he sat beside you. “Wanna try it?” 
“Can I please?” you asked, you had a Brother one at your apartment, and you adored her, but Remingtons were classics. His was from the 50s and it looked brand new. Rather than responding, Remus placed a paper through the platen and pushed it towards you. 
Since you didn’t actually have a plan to write something, you just typed the boys’ Name and then yours, right at the top of the paper. 
“What are we going to write then? Any ideas?” 
“Didn’t you say you wanted to talk about wizards?” Sirius asked with a smile. 
“But do you want to?”
He chuckled, “Of course, Sweets, we’d love to go for that.” He reclined his head on the sofa. “We’ve actually discussed it, and we have some ideas, don’t we Moony?” 
Remus shot a look at Sirius, who winked in return. 
“Yeah?” You asked as you turned your gaze to Sirius. “For the plot?”
“Mhm… hear me out. It’s a hidden school for wizards, you get there by taking a secret train hidden at King’s Cross. The school is full of magic and mysteries and ghosts and other magical creatures.” 
You frowned, “I don’t know… it sounds a little too surrealistic, doesn’t it?”
Sirius laughed at your statement and Remus threw pillow towards his face, you squirmed in your seat a little uncomfortably and then Rem placed his hand on your shoulder, “It’s okay, Dove. We don’t have to go for Sirius’ idea.”
“But he said you wanted to write about it too…”
“I’ll be happy with whatever we make. I know with our writing skills and Sirius’ creativity we’ll make something brilliant.” 
You pulled out your notebook and checked the list of ideas for the story you had to write. It had to be at least 50k words and you had three weeks to finish it. So the three of you would have to get writing as soon as possible, which meant you had to define the story and you had to define it fast. Most of your ideas were either unfinished, not doable in such a short time or had the opportunity to be integrated into Sirius’ magic school. 
“Okay, tell me more about your Wizard’s school.” 
Sirius smiled, threw a look at Remus –a satisfied sort of look– before turning back to you, “Okay, so the name is Wartshow: School for Wizardry and Witchcraft, and–“ 
“Doesn’t Witchcraft and Wizardry sound better, though?” 
Sirius licked his lips and smiled. “All right then, Wartshow: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” You wrote it down in your notebook. 
“It’s the story about a boy, a boy that thought they wouldn’t be able to assist even though he was a wizard.” 
“Sirius,” Remus said in a warning tone. 
“Shut up Moony, you’ll kill my inspiration.” 
“Why did he think that?” You asked. 
“Because he was bitten by a werewolf when he was 4.”
 Remus scoffed and stood up, “I’ll bring the snacks.” 
“Is he okay?” you asked. 
“He’s not a fan of my story,” Sirius said. “He says the main character is not a hero, but I differ.” 
You hummed in response. “What’s the boy’s name?” 
“Re- Andrew,” he said, “Andrew Renault.” 
“Renault? Is he french?” 
“No, I don’t– he is not.” 
“Okay, then we should go for a more English name, like… Remington?” 
“Andrew Remington? Sounds posh.” 
“As if  Sirius Black sounded less posh,” you joked and he scoffed playfully at you. He continued listing his ideas, telling you Remus’ story although he had changed the names of almost everyone. “Will there be dragons?” you asked after he had laid out the basic idea.
 “Dragons? Those are dangerous!” 
“Of course they are, but it’s more exciting than the…ugh” –you checked your notes– “boggart monster you mentioned.” 
“Dragons are definitely more exciting than Boggarts,” Remus said as he sat on the floor next to you. You couldn’t help but notice his scars, perhaps Sirius had used those as inspiration for Andrew. 
“Okay, so we’ll add dragons. What if there’s a dragon in the dungeons?” 
“No, in the dungeons there are snakes,” Sirius said as if it were a fact. He had clearly thought this out. 
“Okay… what about a secret room in the castle that has dragons? It’s magical, right? It could be bigger on the inside, like the TARDIS.” 
“The what?” Sirius asked, confused. 
“The TARDIS! From Doctor Who?” you said as if it were a fact, he still looked confused. “You do know what I’m talking about, right Rem?” 
“Is it a book?” he asked. 
“A book? How do you even call yourself Brits if you don’t know about Doctor Who? That’s it, Sunday, my house, we’re watching a marathon.” 
“Whatever you want, dove,” Remus said and handed you a piece of chocolate. 
“So, going back to the story. A room that’s bigger on the inside. Like a… Chamber of Secrets?”
“Sirius,” Remus warned again. 
“It’s what she said!” Sirius said defensively. 
After that, you finished plotting the small story in between the three, even with the slight reluctance you detected from Remus, you got around to defining all of your main characters, the challenges they’d go through and the resolution of the story. 
“By the way, tomorrow is our flatmate James’ birthday,” Sirius said as he closed the notepad he’d been writing on. “Wanna come to the party?” 
“I don’t think I’ve met James, though.” 
“It’s fine, he’ll love to meet you I’m sure,” Remus said. “When is your birthday?” 
“I–“ you hesitated, “I don’t really celebrate it.” 
“Why not? We should definitely celebrate the day you were brought into this world,” Sirius said. 
You smiled, Sirius could be the sweetest sometimes. “I don’t do parties…” 
“Because you don’t want to?” 
“No! It’s just… long story, don’t bother yourselves with it.” 
“I’ll tell you a secret,” Sirius offered. “In exchange, you give me your birthday, how about that?” 
You laughed, Sirius wasn’t the type to care too much about things, so you walked towards him and whispered the date in his ear. 
“Now yours?” you said as he leaned closer to you. 
“It’s all real, we are magicians from the school in our story,” he whispered. 
You laughed. “I thought you’d tell me a real secret, should have known,” you added as you shoved him, he just laughed and shrugged in response, as if he was saying it’s your loss, for not believing his lie. 
After that day, you hung out with them almost all the time, be it to watch movies, to continue that Doctor Who marathon, or to hang out with the boys on their birthdays. In fact, it was almost odd if you didn’t see each other in more than a couple of days, since they would find almost any reason to meet, Sirius would call and say ‘Hey, there’s a new movie I want to see, you coming with us?’
Or Remus would leave a note on your mailbox telling you to come with him to a library later that day since he had just finished the book he was reading and you were always the best at finding the right books. 
So. of course, you thought it was odd when, on the morning of your birthday, you called their apartment and got no response. Now you weren’t expecting a grandiose party, you weren’t even going to get a cake or anything, but you wanted to see them, maybe go out for dinner, or have a cinema night. You rang them again and still no answer. 
You sighed and walked towards school. You didn’t have that creative writing course today so you weren’t expecting to see them there, but perhaps on the lunch break, you’d find them in your usual spot. 
Your classes were rather tedious, an old professor that spoke very quietly and you had to sit at the very front to even hear him, and then another professor who almost always went over the same thing you’d seen in the first class. Always, round and round the same thing, with nothing new. At least you’d have a class with Professor Almain before lunch. It was your favourite class of the semester –aside from the writing course– and so far, you thought it’d be the highlight of your day. 
But when you got to his classroom, the room was empty and there was a short note on the board: Professor Almain is indisposed today. Study Chapters three and four of your book, you’ll be discussing them next class. The note was signed by Tobby Klein, his assistant. 
You sighed and sat down on one of the chairs, sulking as you took out the book mentioned and started to read. Someone else tried to enter the room a few minutes later, and when they realised there would be no class, they left the classroom instantly. Perhaps they had something better to do, you didn’t. 
You had taken that class as an extracurricular, so you barely knew the students in it, and your classmates were in a class you had taken online, so you couldn’t exactly go search for any of them. You could have gone to the library, but it also seemed unnecessary when you had a perfectly quiet classroom all to yourself. 
You were about halfway through the chapter when you heard someone knocking on the glass window. When you turned you spotted Sirius waving his hand at you with a bright, pearly smile. He looked as dashing as ever. It was ridiculous how pretty you still thought he was even when you saw him all the time. 
He entered the room shortly after. “What are you here all alone?” he asked as he pulled a chair next to yours and pressed a short kiss on your cheek as a greeting. Sirius did that all the time, you’d assumed it was because he was half French. 
“Class was cancelled,” you said as you pointed to the board. “Had nowhere to go. Aren’t you supposed to be in class too?” 
He hummed in response. “It’s that stupid advanced maths class Moony convinced me to take, I was falling asleep and asked to go to the bathroom to throw some water at my face when I spotted you.” 
“You should go back.” 
“To maths? Rather than staying with you? Yeah, right!” 
A small smile appeared on your lips as you stared at him while shaking your head in disbelief. “What if you fail, though?” 
“I’m not going to fail,” he said with a shrug. “Moony can tell me what it was about later. Wanna grab something to eat? My treat.” 
You nodded and pulled your bag from the ground. “I was actually going to invite you guys over tonight,” you said as you opened the zipper and placed the book inside the bag, “I mean I’m sure you don’t remember, and I don’t really want to make anything big but–“ 
“That today is your birthday?” Sirius asked. 
You turned to him in shock, “You– you…” 
“How on earth would I forget?” he said with a smile. “It’s the day my best girl was born. They should make a fucking parade for you.” 
You felt your cheeks warm at Sirius’ grandiose attitude. “Come on,” he said as he stood up and offered his hand. “It feels like a day for ice cream, want some?” 
You nodded and he dragged you towards the parking lot, his hand not leaving yours at all, you tried to ignore the fluttering in your chest since you suspected he had a thing with Remus, but it was almost impossible when he looked at you with his stunning grey eyes. 
He took out the helmet they’d gotten you when they started offering to take you on rides from Moony’s bike and handed it over. It was a full-face black helmet that matched the one the two of them wore almost perfectly, but while Moony’s had a half moon and Sirius’ had a star, yours had both. 
It had been Remus who added the matching moon, and Sirius –who instantly got jealous over it– painted a star right in the middle, he was exceptionally good at painting, sometimes you wondered why he didn’t study art. Then again, you weren’t sure what exactly they were studying, since they had taken classes from more than four different degrees as if they had only picked the few classes that they were interested in.
 You took the helmet in between your hands and hopped on Sirius’ bike. He drove you to the small park that was just a couple of minutes from the school and got you your favourite ice cream from the small ice cream shop James had discovered a while back. 
“So, about tonight?” 
“Moony has a thing,” Sirius said with an apologetic smile. “He has a big presentation tomorrow and he’s working on it with his team tonight, they’ll be using the rooftop of our apartment for it, I believe.” 
“Oh,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment. 
Sirius bit his lip, “Why don’t you come over?” 
“I wouldn’t want to be a distraction, I mean–“ 
“I don’t have to work on any projects,” Sirius said. “We could play chess, watch a movie while he finishes and then we order something to eat.” 
“You– do you really think that’s a good idea?” you asked, uncertain, as you brought your ice cream to your mouth.
“For sure,” he said. “We could get a cake and–“ 
“No cakes.” 
“But you like cakes!” 
“Not on my birthday.” 
“That’s ridiculous! You have something on your face.” 
“Where?” you asked. 
“There,” he said as leaned his finger close to you and smeared some of his ice cream over your cheek. You gasped in shock. 
“Sirius!” you admonished.
“Yes, Luv?” he responded, as if you had just called him.
You used the napkin wrapped around your cone to clean your cheek, “That was uncalled for.” 
“I don’t know about that, your cheeks looked like they needed some ice cream,” he said while trying, and failing to hold back a smile, he pulled a napkin from his pocket, much like a magician would do, and handed it over to you. You were about to take it from his hand, but he shook his head and wrapped his fingers around your chin and turned your head to the side softly. “Allow me.” 
He took longer than needed while whipping your cheek, but he didn’t exactly want to pull apart, and you didn’t want him to pull apart either. 
“There you go.” 
“It’s sticky now,” you teased. 
“Nothing can keep you happy, can it, Sweetheart?” he said dramatically and wrapped his arm over your shoulders and leaned his head on yours. 
You just laughed. Sirius convinced you to skip the next class and stay with him at the park and then took you home. 
“Want me to pick you up?” He asked as you got down from the bike. He had propped the small side stand down and was leaning on the handlebar. You could hardly believe he had driven you all around looking that handsome, with his leather jacket, and high boots. Sirius was pretty all the time, but sometimes he felt more like a fictional character than like an actual human. 
You saw a girl eyeing him as she passed by, and you couldn’t help but smile at him and nod. “Yeah, that would be lovely. At 7?” 
He smiled, gave you a short wink, and put his helmet back on. “See you soon, Sweetheart.” He said, voice slightly muffled by the helmet before he drove off. You entered your apartment shortly after, and it took you a whole minute to recover. It’s not that you hadn’t gone out with Sirius plenty of times, but this one seemed a lot more like a date than all of the previous ones. 
You took a snack bar from your pantry, went for a shower, and asked your classmates about the class you’d missed. A friend of yours told the teacher that you were feeling sick to cover for you and he said he wouldn’t count the absence (it was the first time you missed that class anyway), and you had always been rather participative. 
After that, you grabbed the book you’d been reading and read until it was 7. The light outside had already gone out, and you took some chocolates you’d bought for Remus last week and placed them in your backpack, it was then that you heard the familiar honk of Sirius’ Triumph.
You walked downstairs and met him outside. He switched his band tee for a snug turtleneck sweater that fit him obscenely well and was still wearing his leather jacket. You had kept your helmet and put it on as you approached his bike. 
“You smell nice,” you said as you sat behind him.
“You think?” he asked, playing dumb. “Maybe it’s the aftershave,” he added as he pulled the side stand up and drove into the street. You eyed him suspiciously, not that you could see much while he had his helmet on but you still did.
By the time you arrived at their apartment, you had forgotten all about your suspicion and were just leaning onto Sirius as much as you could, since the night had grown a lot colder than you expected it would. Sirius parked his bike just outside and the two of you walked the three floors of stairs to their apartment.
You expected to see James lounging around like he often did, but he was not there, and Sirius told you Remus was on the terrace at the top, doing his thing, so you walked towards the sofa while Sirius offered to make you a cup of tea.
“Remus bought the one you like,” he said, pulling out a box with the tea you had tried a while back. You had fallen in love with the flavour, but you never found it in the supermarket –it was from a small tea shop at Diagon Alley, so really, there would be no way for you to find it.
“Okay,” you said, “got milk?” 
Sirius nodded towards the fridge and you helped him by pulling out the milk and some biscuits. When your cup was ready, he handed it over to you and took a sip of his own. He glanced at the clock quickly, so quick you barely even noticed and then smiled. It was that mysterious smile of his that told you he was up to something. “We should go see Remus.” 
“What? I thought he was working on his project.” 
“He probably is, but you haven’t seen him all day, I’m sure he wants to at least give you a birthday hug.” 
“A birthday hug?” you asked in disbelief. 
“Yes! A birthday hug! We’ll bother him for a bit and then we come back and you tell me about that book you’ve been reading. The one with the character you said reminds you of me.” 
“You’re so full of yourself,” you said with a laugh as you nodded and followed along with him. 
As you reached the top of the stairs you heard some shuffling on the other side of the door. Sirius was the one to open it first, but none of the lights they normally had were up. 
“Maybe they went to do their homework at the Corner Cafe,” you told Sirius as you turned to him. Suddenly all the lights turn on, including candles and the hanging fairy lights at the top. 
“Surprise!” A chorus of voices sang.
You were startled, Remus and James were right in front of their small table, and there was a cake right in front of them. They had invited their friend Lily, who was dating James and with whom you were fairly close to. She was the first one to approach you.
“I can’t believe Sirius was the one to tell me when your birthday was, Luv! He used to forget mine all the time!” She turned to Sirius with an accusing gaze and then back at you. “Happy Birthday,” she added as she hugged you. 
James gave you a short squeeze after and Remus wrapped you in his arms and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. Sirius joined the hug right after. 
“You’re squeezing me, boys!” you complained in a laugh. 
“It’s a birthday squeeze, deal with it,” Sirius responded, and pressed even closer. 
“Remus?” you tried, he was the most reasonable one between the two. 
“You heard Sirius, Dove. It’s the birthday squeeze.” 
You must have stayed like that for at least a minute before either of the two let go of you, you were certain Lily had whispered something to James, but you were too busy basking on the wrath of the squeeze to bother. After that, you would have sworn the lights of the cake turned on by themselves as Lily walked over to you with it. They sang Happy Birthday while Sirius pulled you to sit on his lap, using the terrible excuse that there was no other seat available. 
You had cake and then they handed over your gifts. A book from Lily and a chocolate frog from James, although he warned you not to open it until later. You didn’t know what that was about but decided to do what was told. Eventually, Lily said she had to go and James offered to walk her. 
Although he said ‘I’ll fly you’ getting a look from Remus that you missed entirely. The boys had extended a pair of matts over the deck and you were all laying on them while gazing at the stars. 
“It was lovely, thank you for the surprise,” you said as you looked at the waning moon. 
“It was nothing, Luv,” Rem said.
“Remus was really eager to celebrate your birthday. We actually have a little present for you,” Sirius added. 
“Really?” you asked, turning to Sirius.
“Mhm,” he nodded. 
“Open the frog,” Remus prompted. 
You leaned forwards and sat on the mat, pulling the frog from the table and doing what told. Suddenly the Frog that looked like it had been made out of chocolate jumped and fell near Remus’ leg. You gasped and stared at the moving frog. It looked like chocolate, but it moved as if it were alive. 
“What– did James give me an actual frog?” 
“No, it’s chocolate,” Remus reassured and picked it up. The frog stilled in his hand. 
You stared at it in disbelief, “Is this some sort of trick?” 
“It’s magic,” Sirius said. 
You frowned at him.
“Remember the story for our class? The one that we worked on together?” 
“Wartshow, Andrew, yeah of course.” 
“Well, It’s sort of real.” 
“What?” 
Remus pulled out his wand and handed it over to you. You stared at it, it looked like a wand, it felt like a wand, but there was no way it was magic because magic– “Is this some kind of trick?” 
Sirius laughed and pulled out a different wand from his pocket, he whispered something and red sparks blew out from the tip. You swallowed and took it from his hands. Checking on it to see if there was some kind of trick, or cannon dust or something inside of it, but it was just a stick, fancy, but a stick. 
Remus took his wand and with another set of words, levitated the small frog right in front of your face. You looked at it with eyes wide open and moved your hand all over it to make sure it really was floating, and it wasn’t some kind of invisible string trick. It was right in front of your eyes, and it was still too fascinating to believe.
“But… in our story, wizards couldn’t tell the non-wizards about their existence. It was meant to be a secret… I mean… Why are you telling me?” 
Remus smiled, his hand searched yours and he leaned his head on top of yours and sighed. “Because we trust you,” he said while looking ahead, at nothing in particular.
Sirius searched for your other hand, making sure to turn it around and interwinning his fingers with yours. He placed his head on your shoulder. “Because we like you.” 
You hadn’t had the best experience with birthdays, but this had been one of the nicest birthdays of them all, more so when your two crushes admitted what Sirius had meant by his words. That they liked you –romantically– not just as friends. 
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A/N: I am so, SO sorry for taking this long to finish your gift, but I made it a bit longer than initially planned to make up for it.
Hope you both had the most amazing birthday and that you're having a wonderous day today. Sending you lots of love, hope you enjoy this little thing <3
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strang3lov3 · 1 year
Text
Have your cake and eat it too
Summary: enemies AND lovers, you’re feeling in need of some attention and oops! You make Joel come in his favorite pair of jeans. So he makes you clean up your mess.
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Warnings: Rough sex, cum eating, enemies AND lovers, joel is sort of mean, actually he’s very mean, brat taming Joel, this is filthier than i’ve done before, handjobs, age gap, unprotected piv, cream pie. What’s new. 
WC: 3k
A/N: surprise! happy tuesday night! i worked on this all day. this was a little out of my element lol so i will just leave this here
It’s too loud in here, Joel thinks. His ears are ringing. It’s Tommy’s birthday party tonight, which is cause for celebration. But Joel’s not much for socializing. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get out of this one. 
He had a simple plan, the same plan he always had. A quick hi and bye, maybe one drink, and he’ll be home within the hour. You, however, foiled that plan. When you sidled up next to him in his booth, he knew he was in trouble. His plan had changed. Tonight would be a two, three, or four kind of drink night. Poor dude. You give the man brain damage and drive him to drink.
You’re sitting a little too close to Joel in his booth, pressing your body against his side and resting your hand on his thigh. He’s firm and cold, unmoving. Like a boulder. You’ve been missing him, his body. His warmth. 
It’s been some time since you’ve last fucked Joel. You were fucking on the down low for quite a while, until about three weeks ago when his face was buried in your neck and your tits bouncing against him. His arms pulled you down to be flush against his torso, fucking himself into your body hard and fast. Just how you like. 
“S’is the last time,” he had muttered. “M’serious. Can’t be doin’ this anymore.”
You pouted, knowing what his next words would be. He’s too old, you’re too young. He’s dead meat if this ever gets out. And so on.
“Scoot,” Joel says gruffly. “Sittin’ too damn close.”
You don’t move. So he shoves you, maybe a little too hard. Your hand is still on his thigh and you roll your eyes before reclaiming your place next to him. Joel sighs dramatically and pinches the bridge of his nose. You’re watching him intently, a sickly sweet smile on your lips, but he won’t look at you. 
You rest your head on his shoulder, trailing your hand from his mid thigh down to his knee. He pushes your head off of his shoulder, but you keep trailing your hand up and down his leg. Getting closer and closer to the part of him you miss the most.
Joel’s showing no reaction. He’s paying you no mind as he sips his drink. When your hand finally reaches his inner thigh, you bite down on your smile. With careful subtlety, your wandering fingertips find his bulge. 
Too far. 
Joel jolts, his knee shooting upward and smacking the table. The rickety old table rocks loudly, and Tommy looks startled and confused from across the bar. Joel smiles politely and flashes him an awkward thumbs up, trying to play it cool. But he knows the stunt you’re trying to pull, and he is anything but cool.
“The fuck is the matter with you?” he hisses through his teeth.
“I miss you, Joel,” 
“I’ll bet you do. Now quit.”
You pout and Joel removes your hand. He kicks your leg with his boot, his own special way of telling you to pound sand. It’s rather rude, you think. So you decide to retaliate, and scoot right back next to him. This time, you don’t bother with the whole trailing your palm up and down his thigh song and dance. You go in for the kill, palming his bulge with reckless abandon.
You’re looking at him with wide eyes, and he recognizes that look. Mischievous. His eyes are icy and fiery all at the same time as he pierces right through you with his own gaze. “What did I just say?” 
You don’t bother answering. He’ll get the picture. 
You pop the button of his jeans before unzipping them, cocking an eyebrow as you reach for his half-hard cock. He’s not wearing any boxers. 
He grumbles your name in a warning tone, that same warning tone he always uses when you annoy him. Of course, you don’t heed his warning. You grasp his cock and begin working him. Joel, pissed off beyond measure, grips your wrist between his fingers and squeezes. Hard. It hurts, but you’re persistent. You can still move your fingers. 
“You cannot be doin’ this right now. Not here,” Joel grits. 
“I know,” you murmur softly into his ear, your breath tickling his skin. His breath hitches at that. “So fuck me. Please. I need you.”
Joel exhales deeply, trying to remain composed. He’s counting back from ten, a technique he’d learned on his quest to control his anger. You were the one who inspired that quest, actually.
“Need to taste you, Joel. Miss you so much.”
He’s missed you too. Not that he’ll ever tell you that, or even admit it to himself. But the thought of you on your knees with your wide eyes, your tongue swirling around his tip, how he pushes himself deeper down your throat and you just let him…It’s a compelling argument. But really, he needs to be done with you. Like he’s said before, it’s wrong. And his patience with you is wearing thin.
“It’s not happenin’. Now quit.” 
“Sorry Joelie, I didn’t hear you. What was that?”
His body betrays him as grows harder with every swipe of your thumb over his swollen and blushed tip, slightly sticky and damp with his precum. You’re driving him up a wall.
“Do you wanna find out how this ends? Knock it. The fuck. Off.” 
You’re a lost cause. He knows this. You’ve never listened to him, not once. Whatever can be argued, will be argued. So Joel decides to play a different game with you. 
“You know what? Keep it up. Watch what happens.”
His new plan: don’t engage. He thinks as long as he pays you no mind, you’ll tire yourself out, get frustrated. Leave his godforsaken booth and burn your energy off with some other fuck.
Joel’s jaw clenches and twitches as he tries to ignore your touch, only, he’s severely underestimated just how badly he misses you too. And how much you’ve been missing him, because Jesus Christ. You’re doing a number on him. In an embarrassingly quick period of time, his cock is twitching erratically and he’s close, and he didn’t intend to be. He can’t help it. The way you pump your fist up and down his hard shaft like you own it, your soft hands and the friction they create.
“Seriously, you got–fuck. I told ya to stop,” Joel stutters, still gripping your wrist. You love this effect you have on him. “S’not funny. Quit.”
“But I’m not laughing at you, Joel,” you purr quietly in his ear. He’s panting, chest heaving. A puddle under your touch. “I just miss you so much.”
“That’s not-I didn’t-fuck–” 
You cut him off by pressing your lips to that sweet spot on his neck, swirling your tongue and biting him gently. His weakness.   
And then before he realizes it, he’s spilling into his jeans and onto your fist. He’s a moaning, whimpering mess when he comes. Biting his lip to try and quiet himself. You smile with sick satisfaction at your work, his eyes squeezed shut and his forehead slightly damp with sweat.   
Joel opens his eyes slowly and his gaze falls to his lap, where your hand is now leaving. 
“God bless it,” he snaps.
Ruined. His favorite pair of jeans, ruined. 
He glares at you as you lick his spend off your fingertips. You scoot out of the seat to leave Joel and the mess you’ve made of him. You got what you wanted. 
Joel huffs loudly through his nose. He’s fuming.  His pants are a mess, his cheeks are flushed. Delicately, he zips himself up.
“Couldn’t fuckin’ help yourself, could you?”
Joel slides out of his seat, grabs you by the bicep and marches you right out the back door. He’s mastered the art of the Irish Goodbye. It’s his specialty, really. 
“We’re leavin’,” he growls, and his tone tells you that you might be in for more than you’ve bargained for. Not that you’re complaining.
“But I didn’t have any cake,” you protest half seriously.
“Think you did, actually,” Joel counters. He’s got a vice grip on your arm as he marches you through Jackson, his fingertips no doubt bruising you. “N’ya can eat it too, princess.” 
Joel’s never been so pissed off. Never walked home so quickly. You’re having trouble keeping up with him, so he yanks you forward. He keeps a firm grip on you as he guides you home.
“Joel, my arm. You’re hurting me.”
Like he gives a flying fuck. You’re not the one smearing your own come on yourself with every step.
He marches you all the way back to his home in less than seven minutes. He’s shoving you inside, ushering you up to his bedroom. You’re tripping up the steps nervously. He watches in irritation. 
When you’re in his bedroom, he shoves you onto his unmade bed. His sheets smell like man and nothing more, a mixture of soap and cologne and sweat. He’s silent as he strips out of his jeans and tosses them in front of you. The crotch is damp with his come, still sticky and wet. 
“You did that,” he says flatly. “That’s my favorite pair of jeans.” 
Really? He has a favorite pair of jeans?
“So you’re gonna clean ‘em up.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
You laugh in confusion. Joel’s not amused.
He continues, “Lick it up. Maybe f’ya do a good job, I’ll go easy on ya. But you’re in for it now, princess. Pissed me off back there.”
You’re frozen, watching him like a deer in the headlights. It seems as though you’ve gone too far. Joel’s not really a nice guy. He’s always had a mean streak. But never has he looked so angry with you before. The bruise from his grip on your arm is throbbing. 
So Joel sighs, rolls his eyes and takes two imposing steps in front of you. His large, masculine hand reaches forward, first to gently hold and caress your jaw. He looks at you with sympathy, almost. But it’s gone in an instant. He shoves your head down, your nose nudging the sticky mess in his jeans. 
Now you get it. What he meant by you ‘cleaning’ up his jeans. You hesitate. It’s a lot of come.
“You gonna make me tell you again? Go on, now. Get your ass to work.”
He pulls your hair away from your face and you dip your tongue into his pants. His come is still warm and wet. It tastes salty and heady, not unlike it usually does. The denim is rough on your tongue. “There ya go. All of it.”
Joel kneels behind you, pulling your hips up and pushing you down further into his old mattress. He reaches to undo your pants, your tummy lurches when his fingertips skate across the flesh. His hand slithers south, dipping inside you for a moment. Your breath hitches in your throat and you moan. Just one of his fingers. It’s all you’ve been needing. 
“Did I tell you to stop?”
“N-no.”
“Do not fuckin’ test me. M’not in the mood.”
Part of you wants to push his limits a little further, but that flat tone in his voice and his cold eyes tell you to obey. So you continue licking. Joel hums in satisfaction and removes the single digit from inside you, then licks it clean. He’s already hard again. His member bounces between your thighs as he situates himself, then he notches his tip at your entrance. Before you can even register what he’s doing, he plunges into you, burying himself deep inside your heat. 
You gasp in pain. The stretch burns your skin as he parts your insides, his tip kisses your cervix. “Joel,” you cry.
He doesn’t acknowledge your discomfort. “Keep goin’.”
He doesn’t give you a moment’s notice before pulling out of you all the way and slamming his hips against you again. 
“Slow down,” you beg. “Please, I need a minute.”
Ignoring you, he sets his own pace. Hard, fast, and deep. Usually, he’s a bit more of a gentleman with you than this. “You’ll get used to it,” he says, without an ounce of sympathy in his voice. “Ya always do.”
“Joel, m’serious,” you mumble into his crumpled jeans. Your pussy is already aching and stinging with the friction. You’ll be feeling him for days if he doesn’t ease up. You try to pull forward, make some space between your bodies. Joel doesn’t allow that. Instead, he pulls you back, impaling you on his cock. Hard. Cruel. Unforgiving. His fingernails are cutting into your skin and he slaps your ass. You let out a sharp cry.
“Keep bitchin’,” he breathes. “I do not care. Seems to me like you can dish it but you can’t take it, huh? Doesn’t feel very good t’be used, does it?”
You don’t answer. Your lip is pinned under your teeth as you try to focus your attention away from the sting and the burn.
“S’what I thought. You know how much nicer you are when you shut the fuck up? Ya should do it more, sweetheart.”
He keeps fucking you. It’s a strange sort of pleasure, painful and too much yet not quite enough. Still, you savor the feeling. You’ve missed his body and what he does to yours, even if he’s not particularly kind to you. You don’t care. You’ll take him any way he’ll have you.
“Fuckin’ makin’ me bust in my jeans,” he mumbles to himself. He’s always preferred listening to his own voice instead of yours. He thinks you make some pretty noises, though. “Un-fucking-believable.” He seems lost in it all. He’s there, but not really. Like he’s a machine, not even human. You wish you could see his face before doing what you’re about to do, knowing you’re not in a position to piss him off further. It’ll be a leap of faith.
Subtly, you shift and bring your fingertips to your clit. Your face presses into his jeans, and you can feel the hot stickiness on your cheek. Just as you think you’re about to pull one over on him and find some relief, Joel grabs both of your arms and pins them behind your back.  
“Please, Joel. Need more than this, please,” you beg. 
“Uh huh. I know, Cinderella,” he taunts you. “I’ll think about it. You finish your chores first. My jeans better be spotless. Get that through your skull. Spotless.”
So you keep going, keep licking. Your tongue is sore and aching. He fucks you hard and rough at a merciless pace. It’s cruel, nearly sadistic. Even for Joel.
You’re exhausted. Your tongue and your jaw hurt worse than when he fucks your mouth. Tears are welling in your eyes and you lay your head next to the denim, unsure if you’ve even finished the job.
“Lemme see.” Joel leans forward, then clicks his tongue disapprovingly as he examines your work. “Look at that. That look spotless to you?”
“Mhm,” you lie. It’s so much, you couldn’t possibly lick it all up. It's an unrealistic and frankly brutal expectation he has of you to do so. But, he did warn you.
“Think you’re bullshittin’ me. M’deaf, sweetheart. Not blind.” 
You whimper in defeat, Joel recognizes that sound and smiles crookedly to himself. He thinks you have a lot of misplaced confidence, specifically when you interact with him. He loves fucking you like this, like he owns you. Reminding you of your place beneath him. It’s for your own good, really. “Joel, please, I can’t do this anymore.”
“You really do sound so pretty cryin’ for me. But you shoulda’ thought of that before pullin’ that stunt back there at the bar,” He coos sweetly, as if you were supposed to know that this is how he’d punish you. “Keep goin’. Eat it up. If I have to tell ya again, you’ll be in deeper shit. Now lick.”
He hovers over you, making sure you do a job well done. The slight change in position sends you reeling, you’re moaning and crying his name incoherently. He’s reaching new ground with every thrust, brushing past that sweet spot inside of you. Your pussy makes slick, sticky sounds. 
Your tongue is raw. You adjust his jeans to find any remnants of his spend. Surely, surely you’ve licked it all. 
And at last, Joel hums in satisfaction. You hear the sound of him spitting into his hand as he finally drops your arms, allowing you to support yourself. Wordlessly, he finds your clit, swollen and needy for him. You moan long and breathlessly at the relief his touch brings. 
“Alright now, settle down. Jesus Christ.”
Joel circles your clit with his fingertips for mere seconds before you begin pulsing around him. You whimper his name like a prayer, your voice muffled by his jeans and sheets. Your orgasm washes over you and you shudder, tears of relief or something else falling from your eyes. Maybe you missed him more than you had realized.
Your release beckons his own. Joel comes for the second time that evening, grunting and groaning as he paints your walls with his thick loads. His thrusts change from erratic to slow before he pulls out of you and you collapse, falling to the side of his messy bed. You’re panting, trying to catch your breath.
Even after fucking you relentlessly hard for god knows how long, Joel somehow has enough energy to sit up at the edge of the bed. His skin is sweaty, his tummy rolls slightly as he slouches. His hair is tousled and his gaze soft as he reaches for his jeans to fully examine your work. Of course, they’re still a mess. He'll be on the hunt to find a new pair of jeans that fit like the pair he--you ruined. Another pair that squeeze his ass cheeks just so, like they were crafted for him by Levi Strauss himself. He knows what his jeans do to you. Why your eyes always seem wander south. You can't help yourself. Joel's got cake and he knows it.
 “Good effort,” he says, slapping your ass affectionately, though you hardly register it.
He leaves you on the bed and dresses himself, this time wearing a different pair of jeans. He’s about to leave, and he tells you to stay there and to get cleaned up.
“Where are you going?”
Joel shrugs. “Gettin’ you a slice of cake, dummy. What else would I be doin’?”
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