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dizscreams · 11 months

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“MY LOVER IS A DAY I CAN’T FORGET”

— Jack Champion ★

PAIRING: Jack Champion x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Jack and you at the beachhhhh very very fluffy

A/N: I was coloring, I thought of Jack, this idea was born, I went to my room and I wrote a fic, enjoy :)

TAGS: @ourloveisgod23 @xyzstar @wenvierismycomfort @h34rtsformilli @beary-rambles @aesthetixhoe @dizzyscreams @gabbylovesreading @jakesgirll @c8rdigan @wekiamo @aqellano @brakke-dino @mbankfav @iloveneilperry @maybankfr @ashlesys-blog

Jack and your other Scream 6 cast-mates had dragged you out for a beach day. You were laying out on a towel in the sand, soaking in the sun. While the others were playing around in the ocean. You were too busy coloring in your marine animal coloring book to notice your boyfriend running up behind you.

“Babyy, I missed you,” Jack exclaimed while laying on your back since you were on your stomach. “Jack, you’re heavy and you’re cold! Get offfff!”

He giggled and kissed your head, “No, you’ve been out in the sun all day. Come get in the water with us.” He shook his wet hair like a dog that had just been in the water. You turned over off of your stomach, causing him to move and sit down beside you. You were now sitting, facing him. “I like it here, it’s calm and peaceful. And not cold.”

He playfully rolled his eyes, “Is that your only reason for not going in the water.” You pretended to think about it for a moment, “Yes.” You gave him a sarcastic smile and he pouted. “Pleaseee, just for a few minutes!” You scoffed, “A few minutes would then turn into a few hours.” He hummed and his eyes found their way to your coloring book, “What were you coloring this time?”

“Just a whale.”

“It’s pretty.”

You nodded and watched as he put the book back in its rightful place before scooting closer to you. “It’s not that cold once you get used to it.” He examined your features for a moment and put his hand on your cheek. He rubbed his thumb across and tilted your head slightly. “Have you even put on sunscreen?”

“Obviously.”

“Really? You look like a lobster.”

“Jack!” You pushed his shoulder and he laughed while kissing your head, “I’m sorry. You look beautiful.” “Am I burnt?” “No I was just messing with you,” he said softly and that’s how you knew he was being genuine. “Thank you, can I go back to coloring now?”

“Hmm,” he put his finger on his chin and tilted his head up, “Let me think for a minute.”

“Okay, Jack.” You rolled your eyes and looked around the beach as you waited. Jack took this opportunity and grabbed your waist while standing up, almost falling over in the process. He put you over his shoulder more comfortably while you yelled, “Jack! Put me down!” You hit his back a few times and he giggled, “Nope.”

You lifted your head and looked at where he was walking to and you saw him walking closer and closer to the ocean. “If you throw me in there I’m breaking up with you.” He chuckled and tapped the back of your thigh, “I’m sure you will, sweetheart.” You heard Masons voice as clear as day which signaled that Jack was in the water now, “Hey Champion, why do you have her over your shoulder like a rag doll?”

You and Jack giggled and he uncomfortably repositioned you so he was now carrying you bridal style. “No reason!” He shouted back and you heard Devyn and Jenna laugh. Everyone knew what was about to happen but you held onto his neck for dear life. “Jack, please. Spare me.”

He pretended to throw you forward as a joke causing you to yelp. He walked farther into the water trying to find somewhere that wasn’t as shallow. “You need to just relax.” You looked at the grin on his face and shook your head, “Why are you telling me to relax as you’re about to throw-” Your sentence was cut short as Jack threw you into the water and then quickly jumped in to join you.

When you came up to the surface you splashed him and he wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned in closer to your face. “I hate you,” you said quietly. You were flustered at the close proximity, even if he was your boyfriend and this was a normal thing for him to do. He suddenly kissed you and you wasted no time in wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulled away from the kiss with a smirk, “You love me.”

You look away from him trying to hide your smile and he poked your side. You giggled and pointed towards the others, “We should probably head that way.” He nodded with a smile and took your hand, walking you both through the water. Luckily the waves weren’t very rough today. Once you made your way over there you greeted and talked with them for a bit before you leaned into Jacks side.

“You tired already baby?” You nodded and pulled away from his side. You went in like you were about to hug him but instead pushed Jack into the water causing everyone to laugh, including yourself. You tried to get out of the water as fast as you could before he could catch up to you. “Y/n! Get back here!” You could hear his laugh so at least he wasn’t upset with you.

As soon as you made it back to shore you heard the splash of his footsteps close behind you. You squealed as you felt his arms pick you up again. “Jack no!” He laughed and put you down. He kissed your head and walked with you back to your towel where all your stuff was. “Are you gonna color again?” You shook your head, “You want to go back to the hotel with me? I’m tired.” You asked looking up at him.

He looked back towards the ocean to see his cast mates playing in the water and then looked back at you, “Lets go.” He offered his hand for you to take and you gladly did. “They’re gonna kill us for leaving our stuff here for them to clean up.”

He chuckled, “Probably.”

#dizzy writes?! 😵‍💫#definitely not proofread #jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion imagine #jack champion fluff #ethan landry x reader #spider soccoro x reader

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dawn-moths · 4 months

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"Birthday Wishes"

Undertaker x Female Reader

word count: 3,700+

(@fanfictionsworld requested: spending your birthday with Undertaker from my Cause to Start a Vendetta AU.)

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! fluff with some smut at the end, oral sex (reader receiving), use of the word “Daddy”, reader is called “princess, baby, sweetheart”.

*ao3 mirror*

***

You’d been counting down the days for weeks now, your birthday circled on the calendar with a big pink glitter gel pen heart several times over, every day crossed off that crawled closer to the day— your day— making you more and more excited.

Because, as you’d quickly grown accustomed to being spoiled by Undertaker— special occasion or otherwise— your birthday was no exception to being showered with all the love and luxury he had at his disposal.

“Morning, princess…” he cooed, gently smoothing down some of your sleep-tousled hair with a big, cool palm, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you blinked open beary eyes, wrapped in his arms and the many layers of blankets that twisted and tangled about your bodies sprawled across the bed.

“Morning, Daddy…” you replied, voice soft and delicate as the lingering dredges of slumber clung to your tone, an angelic little grin curving up on your sweet lips as you nuzzled closer into Undertaker’s chest, seeking out his elusive warmth.

For a moment, nearly forgetting what today was as you drifted in and out of consciousness, your figure filling with the heavy weight of sleep once more, your eyelids fluttered closed and your breathing began to turn slow and shallow. Undertaker rubbed a hand up and down your back, stirring you back to the waking world and smiling to himself as you let out a big yawn, nose scrunching adorably with the expression.

“If you want to go back to sleep,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your nose and causing a fragile giggle to bubble up in your chest, “I won’t stop you. But that would certainly be a shame when we have so many fun things on our to-do list today.”

That was enough to entice you, your mind suddenly much more alert than before, and you snaked your arms up to gently rest over his shoulders. “Just a few more minutes…” you said, pressing yourself even closer to him, wishing you could bask in the safety of his touch forever. “Then I promise I’ll get up.”

A smooth, sonorous chuckle vibrated through his bones, the sound warming you from the inside out like hot milk and honey. “Alright, sweetheart,” he said, allowing himself to melt back to a more relaxed state as well. “Just a few more minutes…”

As the sun crept further through the cracks of the curtains, bright beams painting the ornate master bedroom with thin strokes of gold, stirring up the wispy clouds of dust motes swirling through the air, Undertaker coaxed you into finally rising, draping one of his big, fluffy black robes over your shoulders when you became burdened with a chill, the mansion’s usual temperature kept low upon his preference.

Once your feet were dressed in your favorite pair of fluffy socks and even fluffier slippers, you took Undertaker’s hand and let him guide you down the wide halls to the curving staircase, heading towards the kitchen where you could already smell your special birthday breakfast.

The long dining table was decorated to the nines with all kinds of balloon bouquets and bundles of black and white roses overflowing from crystal vases. Spelled out in gold glitter confetti at one end of the display was HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PRINCESS punctuated by a big heart. At the other was a full selection of all your breakfast favorites— souffle pancakes piled high with bananas and melty chocolate chips, strawberry french toasts drizzled with sticky maple syrup and sprinkled with a frosty snowfall of powdered sugar, fluffy scrambled eggs and yogurt parfaits and fruit arranged by color.

You sucked in a gasp of delight, hands clasped before your chest as you eagerly surveyed the scene, looking up at your Daddy like he’d outdone himself.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he said, extending a hand towards the chair at the head of the table— his usual chair, the master’s chair, the dining room’s throne— and pulling it out for you to sit in, taking the seat adjacent to it to join you in the morning’s sugary culinary experience.

Over the meal— you choosing a bit of everything to pile onto your plate in an orderly array, because why should you have to choose just one when today you could have whatever your little heart desired— you and Undertaker began to discuss the day’s itinerary.

There was a packed schedule planned indeed— a shopping outing at all your most beloved designer stores, afternoon tea at the Ritz, exploring some of the artsy nooks and crannies of the city and dropping into your favorite bookstore all before hopping on the Aurora Society’s private jet and taking the hour and a half flight to your favorite five star restaurant in Paris, sure to end the evening by enjoying your usual penthouse suit of the expensive hotel that gave the best view among any of the establishments around.

“Oh, and there’s one more thing,” Undertaker slyly prompted just as you were about to head upstairs to get changed and ready for the events ahead, thoughts already spinning trying to decide what you wanted to wear. You stopped and considered him with an adorably cute expression for a moment until he pulled a big gift bag from under the table where he’d hidden it from you, the glossy black packaging stuffed with glittering silver tissue paper and two perfect satin ribbons serving as the handles. “You know,” he shrugged as he slid it towards you on the table, drinking in your awe, never growing tired of how easily you seemed to be innocently surprised sometimes, “just in case you felt like going out in something new.”

Carefully, as if the wrapping itself was just as valuable as the gift, you plucked the sparkling tissue paper away to uncover the pristinely wrapped box beneath, a marbling of glossy and matte black swirling over the decorative paper like ink dropped into water. The moment the first half of your favorite clothing brand’s name was visible to you, you shot him a glance, as if to say, “you shouldn’t have” despite believing down to your very core that you deserved every expensive, extravagant thing that Undertaker placed in your cute little lap.

Once you lifted the garment from where it had been perfectly folded within its box, holding it up to your body as if to sample how it would look before trying it on, you heard Undertaker sigh, a dreamy, lilting hum tailing off the end of it. “Exquisite…” he remarked, and you now held the dress out from your body, studying the intricate craftsmanship that had been hand stitched into the garment as you smiled to yourself, eyes sparkling.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “It really is.”

But then Undertaker was by your side, having moved soundlessly, his even stride gliding across the short distance to meet you. “I wasn’t talking about the dress,” he murmured, big hands settling on your hips. “Now, why don’t you head upstairs and start getting ready.”

You turned your face up to his, met his lips when he was close enough for a kiss, and muttered out a sweet little, “Thank you, Daddy,” before following his instruction and heading for the staircase.

He watched you go, saw the skip in your step as you ventured off, only returning to clearing the table once you disappeared down the long second story hallway and out of his view. He was going to look forward to taking that dress off of you later, unwrapping you like his own special gift by the time night draped itself over the sky.

***

The afternoon had been like a dream, you and your lover floating from one location to the next to try on extravagant clothing and sample imported teas, the two of you practically waltzing through the downtown streets where you longed to see what new installments the local London artists put up around the city before you’d lost track of time perusing your favorite bookstore, a good two hours going by without you even noticing as you strategically searched for the next story to get yourself hooked on.

But as the sky began to fade from blue to gold, it signaled that dinner was soon approaching, which meant you two had a plane to catch if you wanted to arrive to your reservation on time.

The hostess greeted you two with a friendly smile, addressing you both by name, the entire restaurant staff made familiar with London’s most notorious boss and the beautiful girl who was always on his arm, Undertaker making short, lighthearted conversation with the manager in French while they crossed paths on the walk to your usual table, the man chuckling at something your Daddy had said, forever able to charm anyone if he set his mind to it, it seemed.

As you both enjoyed the delicacies of the six course meal, you continued to talk and laugh, never running out of topics to converse about, though tonight you were most excited to tell him all about the book you’d recently finished and your expectations for the new one you’d chosen on your earlier excursion, having heard nothing but praise for the acclaimed tale.

Once the horizon had lost its lilac blush and sunk deep into the velvet navy of nightfall though, you knew you were just about to enter into yet another phase of your luxurious birthday festivities.

***

You could smell the roses from down the hall before the doors to your hotel suite in Paris even opened. The entirety of the three connected rooms were decked from floor to ceiling in at least one hundred thousand dollars worth of florals, vibrant reds and sultry blacks, flawless creams and even a dash of lovely soft pinks.

You could’ve cried at how gorgeous it all was, blinking the mist from your eyes as you spun in slow circles about the place, taking it all in. Undertaker’s hands found your shoulders to steady you, stopping your awestruck turns to face the beautiful birthday cake on the hotel room’s center table, the special dessert shaped like a heart and iced in a rainbow of your favorite colors, several candles placed strategically on the top and already lit, small flames glowing and beckoning you over to make a wish.

But what could you possibly wish for when you already had everything you’d ever want or need— a gorgeous man who loved you, showering you in every stunning thing life had to offer, as simple as the snap of his fingers or a wave of his hand— besides to continue living this blessed life that had found its way to you, through trial and tribulation?

Taking a few steps forward towards the cake, you choked out through a shaky breath, “Oh my god…” unable to hold back your tears any longer, a few sparkling drops running down your cheeks, glittering like gold as they caught the amber of the flickering firelight. You looked back at Undertaker, who was not far behind you, and wondered if you’d ever be able to convey how much this all meant to you. It almost seemed unfair. He’d always be able to do more for you than you would for him, though he never seemed to mind.

For him, just having you— his sweet, precious baby girl to dote on and adore as much as he pleased— was far more than enough. All you had to do was exist. All you had to do was be his.

“Well, go on,” he lightly urged, a calm smile playing at the corner of his lips as he gestured towards the center table. “The candles won’t blow themselves out, now will they?”

You smiled, big and bright, and let out a sound that could only be described as pure joy. Undertaker was addicted to that sound, the way it rang out like the delicate jingle of bells, the way it warmed him like the sun’s rays after so much rain. It made everything he’d ever done, good, bad, or somewhere in between, all worth it. Just to see you smile at him like that, just to hear you laugh. Just to know it was him who’d been the orchestrator of such emotions.

And as you let out a strong gust of a breath, turning each melting birthday candle from flame to smoke, you realized you did have one wish you wanted to make afterall.

Let things be like this forever, you thought to yourself, like a silent prayer. Let us stay as in love for the rest of our lives as we are right now, in this moment.

Undertaker cut the cake, a piece for you and a piece for him, and then the two of you sat by the counter outlooking the spotless floor to ceiling windows that gave way to the sprawling view of the City of Light, the night sky clear and sparkling with little bursts of silver stars overhead.

You talked and joked and laughed while you both enjoyed your dessert, your chair pressed right next to his, close enough that you could lean your head over to rest against the side of his shoulder while his arm slung across your back, hugging you closer to him, his most cherished treasure.

“You know…” you began, gazing dreamily out the window at the romantic scene the city offered. Then, casting him a glance from where you were nestled into his side, you said, “I think this might really be the best birthday ever.”

Something in his eyes softened a shade then, and in response Undertaker lightly took your chin between his lithe fingers, tilting your mouth just ever so slightly upwards so he could lean down to meet it. You hadn’t expected the kiss, languid and savoring at first as you parted your lips to let him in, both of you tasting like your favorite flavor of cake, soon turning more hungry, having you straddling his lap and blinded by the blissful haze that was slowly filling you from the inside out.

When he finally broke away, leaned back just far enough to look you in the eyes, gently wiping the cool pad of his thumb across the plush of your bottom lip, glossy from your mingled saliva, a weak attempt to clean you up a bit, he said, “I guess that means I’ll have to go above and beyond next year,” and you laughed and nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you felt yourself relax over him.

“No, but really…” you murmured. “Thank you, Daddy. For everything. Always.”

All you got as a warning for what happened next was a low, lilting chuckle humming in his chest before he was hoisting you up, big hands splayed against the backs of your thighs as he began to carry you elsewhere in the suite.

“Where are we going?” you playfully asked, though you already had a pretty good idea.

“There’s still a few hours until midnight,” he remarked, a new kind of vigor in his voice and stride. He set you down on the edge of the king-sized bed, beginning to shrug off his jacket and tug his belt buckle free of its loops as he added, “Which means your birthday’s not over yet, princess.”

The smirk that spread across his face then made that fluttering creature resting in your lower belly roll over inside of you, beginning to wake, soon asking to be satisfied like a dog scratching at the door begging for treats, relentless until it was given its desired reward. It wasn’t long before Undertaker was hooking his grip under your thighs again, pulling you further down the bed where he then knelt at the foot of it.

You gave him an uncertain and slightly suspicious look as he flicked his emerald gaze up to meet yours. Usually, he liked to undress you, strip you down piece by piece before ridding himself of his own clothing, admiring every inch of your bare body like it was the most masterful work of art. Then he’d pin you down, his prized butterfly, and get to work at soaking both your bodies with pleasure before wringing them dry, squeezing you for every last lustful drop he could.

But tonight— on your night— he figured he’d do things a little differently. Give you one last birthday surprise before the clock struck twelve.

“Just relax, sweetheart…” he cooed, carefully bunching your new dress up around your waist, exposing the expensive lace clinging to the most delicate parts of you and drinking in the sight like it rivaled even that of the one just beyond the windows. “Let Daddy make you feel good…”

Undertaker pressed gentle kisses to the soft raise of your lower belly, and you felt your tight little hole futter and your sensitive bud pulse as he slowly removed your panties, your already damp core causing them to cling to you a moment before the cool air sighed against your damp slit.

Undertaker ran a long finger through your dewy folds, making your next breath catch as he slipped it inside of you to gather more of your slick before rubbing it against your puffy clit, already swollen with arousal, pulling one of those adorable whines from your throat as you lay one arm over your eyes, the other sprawled out across the bed, little fingers twisting into the sheets, trying to grab hold of anything while you still had the chance.

“That’s it, baby…” he praised, helping to spread you wider for him, a leg thrown over one of his broad shoulders as he continued to tease you. His next words sent a puff of his warm breath against your cunt, and you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation, exhaling a shuddering sigh. He whispered, “I’m gonna take good care of you, baby,” and when he licked a flat-tongued stripe up your pussy, you let out a soft, broken whine, back already beginning to arch a little at the sinfully sweet feel of him.

Undertaker was skilled at a lot of things— running a business, making money, getting away with murder— but the thing you thought he was best at, above all else, was pleasuring you.

It was effortless, the way he knew exactly what to do that made you body bend to his command, melting your mind until all you knew was the press of his hips or the wet warmth of his mouth, the indents of his teeth, his fingerprints, all of it branded into you so no matter where you looked on your own body there would be a reminder of him, like a promise, a gift.

You were clenching the silky sheets in your trembling fist as he speared his tongue into you, his sharp nose nudging against your clit every time and forcing moan after delicious, high-pitched moan out of you like that was the only sound you’d ever known how to make. If he thought your laugh was syrupy sweet, then your moans were something else entirely, something far more addicting or satisfying than sticky, sickly sweet sugar. More like a drug to him, making him addicted in a way that, once he got a taste, he couldn’t stop. Not until you had nothing left to give, his pursuit at seeing just how far or how long he could make you go merciless time and time again.

“P-please—” you sobbed, the new veil of tears that had welled in your eyes causing your lashes to clump and spike together with every fluttering roll of your eyes back into your head. His pace was voracious, wanting to devour you down to your very core. You could barely get half a broken plea out before it was interrupted by a surrendering mewl or a soundless gasp, mouth hung open in ecstasy before he prepared to shatter you. “Please— I’m gonna—”

But before you could even speak the last word of your sentence, let alone remember it, Undertaker had you coming undone, unraveling you like a frayed thread on a silk scarf, pulling you apart until there was nothing left but a tangle of string he could then rearrange into any shape he pleased.

Your chest rose and fell with short, shallow, panting breaths, rigid form relaxing back into the mattress, body gone all pliable and boneless once the remaining tension melted away. Meanwhile, Undertaker pressed gentle kisses to the sensitive insides of your stained thighs, palms gently petting you as you drifted down from the high and back into the garden of Eden he’d planted, nurtured, and grown just for you.

Normally, he’d barely give you enough time to recover before commencing round two, but, as he seemed to be a little more patient with you on this most special of days, he allowed your heart to slow to a steady rhythm and your breathing to smooth out into even inhales and exhales before shifting over you, darting out his tongue to lick at his own lips to catch one last obscene taste of you before wiping away your glistening arousal from the bottom half of his pale face with the back of his hand.

As he stared down at you through half-lidded eyes, the vibrant green of them almost glowing through the dim dark of the bedroom, he said, as if only to himself, “Just look at you… So gorgeous… My beautiful girl…” as he helped free you the rest of the way from your pretty birthday dress, mindfully folding it and placing it on the nearest bedside drawer so it didn’t get ruined.

Because he did intend to ruin you.

He intended to ruin you in all the right ways.

As he shed his own clothing like a black-skinned snake, all those silvery scars wrapped around alabaster flesh now on full display, you reached out for him, wanting, craving, needing to feel the press of his body back on yours before the ebbing pleasure made you drift off to dreamland. Though, with Undertaker, reality could often feel like a dream, so perfect your conscious mind almost struggled to comprehend it was real at times.

But, as he began to lean back over you, your fingers interlocked as he pressed your hands down into the comforter on either side of your head, both your legs thrown over his shoulders to have you splayed wide and vulnerable for him, just the way he liked you, one thing was for certain. Undertaker had been ahead of himself when he’d said he’d have to find a way to outdo your birthday next year. After tonight, you had no idea how things could get any better than this.

***

(Hello and thank you so much to @fanfictionsworld for your request! I hope I did it justice and thank you for being so patient with me while you waited for it. I know you’ve been following me for quite some time and I always recognize you when I see you pop up in my notifs, so it was truly a pleasure getting to write for you <3

Also want to give a big thank you to everyone else for reading as well! I hope you enjoyed and I hope you have a wonderful day!)

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