holy shit I'm writing... I'm 19 & 🇲🇽 💛🤍💜🖤 they/them please ^^ 18+ blog, also... please give me constructive criticism! ^^ Asks are open! preferably for one turt at a time pls
summary: during a moment of intimacy, jude tries something new
requested: -
⚠️: smut-ish
pairing: jude
genre: smut
authors note: short blurb that came to me while in class. lame ass title because i spent so long just thinking of one .
🎵: -
-
It was one of those slower days. No work to be done. No training. Dishes put away. Clothes folded. Nothing on tv you wanted to watch. Heavy rain outisde which didn't allow for any outdoor activities. So Jude had suggested a pastime that was a favorite for you both.
Jude made quick work of removing your clothes and it didn’t take too long for you both to end up in the shared room.
Some time had passed and your first orgasm had came, the second rapidly approaching. He was quickly nearing his first.
The two of you had reached a rhythm that signaled a peak. He had you on your back, the blankets all spread out while over you, bracing himself with his elbows, arm muscles working overtime. As he pounded into you, his hands held yours above your head, fingers laced. Muffling a small sound between your lip, you turned your head to the side, exposing the side of your neck.
Jude watched you and in that moment, his pace faltered, only for a second.
He didn't know what came over him. Jude only saw the expanse of your neck and something in him.. changed. The smooth skin was tempting, inviting. It was just.. there. And without a moments hesitation, he pressed his lips at the base of your neck, kissing you lightly before his intrusive thoughts kicked in.
Feeling his soft lips on your neck, you had only begun to moan when you felt his tongue hard and firm, pressed against your skin as he licked upwards, stopping just below your ear. The soft moan cut halfway and you let out a startled scream.
"Jude! EW!" you shoved him off, eyes opening immediately.
The man only shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face. "M'bad."
"No, it's not just... 'my bad!' Ugh!" you tore your hand from his grip, frantically wiping your neck.
His eyes widened a fraction, processing the reaction. With heavy breaths, his gaze was locked onto you, his hands still braced on either side of your head.
When you finished wiping your neck, you stared at him in disbelief. "Why'd you do that?"
"Didn't like it?" he murmumed, leaning close. The two of you were still connected, you could feel him twitching in you.
A small laugh escaped your mouth. "Not that I didn't like it, was just... unexpected."
He smiles. "So I could do it again?"
Your heart lurched and your brows knit. "Ew, Jude, this is gross, we just had lunch, no!"
It went silent for a second. Both of your chests heaved with exertion. His smirk widened.
The mood left you.
"Alright, off." you grumbled, nudging him away.
He huffed while slipping out of you. "Fine."
The separation was quick and after moments of shuffling and moving around, your reached for your shirt that was at the end of the bed.
"I didn't even get to finish." he groaned, his arm slung over his eyes.
Pulling on your shirt, you merely glanced back at him. Despite the blanket covering his lower half of his body, the proof was there. He was unfortunately still aroused.
"You should've thought of that before licking me like a lolly!" you laughed.
Jude laughed but it was strained. Taking another glance at him, he was now on his stomach, searching for some alleviation. He let out a few muffled sounds as he bucked against the mattress before giving up with a groan. “Fucking hell.” The man grips the blanket on the bed before he turned back over, lying flat on his back.
Moving to lie beside him, you kissed his shoulder. "I'll help you later, ‘kay? Just.. caught me off guard."
“Was jus’ my tongue.” he mumbles.
Your shook your head. “Well yeah but it was unexpected.”
Jude didn’t reply. He glances at you, that shit eating grin still on his face. With a hard eye roll, your hand slipped beneath the blanket, finding his dick, still hard. “Here, compensation.”
“Thank you.”
But neither of you were really focused. Your movements were near robotic and he wasn’t really in it. He gave a small grunt, bucking into your hand and you mumured something, probably an 'oops', he didn't hear. Suddenly, his hand came over yours, stopping it. You raise a brow.
"Hm?"
He twists his lips in thought before squinting at you. “So.. if that’s something I wanted to try again, my tongue all over you...”
Fighting a smile, you looked up at him. “Next time, just give me a warning." your hand squeezed him unconsciously. "Your tongue was.. cold."
"Cold??" His brows shot up. "Really? My tongue was cold?"
"As fuck."
He seems surprised, sitting up. "Is that good or bad?"
The absurdity of the question seemed to kill any rememnats of the mood. His member softened and he didn't even realize. You drew your hand back, his dick going limp. The sound of skin meeting skin seemed to echo through the room.
With a sigh, you sat and and faced him but he wasn't looking at you. His tongue was out and he was feeling it every few seconds with his fingers.
What had this day come to?
"Okay!" Your voice cracked and you cleared your throat, wiping your hands. "We're losing the plot."
He blinked, dropping his hands. "Might be, but it was hot."
Your brows raised. "Hot? Licking my neck was hot- Pfft, okay superstar. No more tongue for some time."
A loud scoff left his mouth as he leaned in, closing the distance between you two. His soft lips met yours and just as you thought the mood would return, his tongue poked out, licking you once more.
"Enough!" was all you were able to say, a fit of laughter taking over you.
"You'll give in by tommorw night." he smirked, licking your lips.
You batted him away, laughing agaisnt his mouth. "Mm, don't know about that."
But the look in your eyes suggested otherwise. Jude nodded to himself, a low and satisfied ‘mhm' leaving his lips. The two of you were definitely trying this again soon, he knew it. You both risked a glance at each other, and saw the shared idea in each others eyes.
He raised a brow. “Tomorrow?”
“Tonight.”
-
this is so silly, i love it haha
i remember seeing an ad in a magazine years ago in which some guy was licking this girls neck and it was actually so hot
okay I have an idea for jobe, Jude, or kylian Mbappe or all three where you do the prank where you ask them if they are allowed to get dessert or like a pasta instead of a salad or something like that I think that would be really fun! And maybe it be in front of their team or parents or something! Thanks
ALLOWED w/ l. yamal, k. mbappe, & ju. bellingham
inwhich! you pull the “am i allowed to have __” prank on your boyfriend his front of his closest people.
frannytalks! HAPPY BIRTHDAY LA NIÑA MALA!! i was supposed to upload two things for him today, but i got so caught up, i apologize. :’) (also i replaced jobe with lamine since its his bday, but more jobe content coming soon!) don’t forget to join my taglist(s) here!
lamine yamal (birthday boy!)
you had taken lamine and his immediate family out to dinner for his birthday. lamine was always the sweetest and most loving boyfriend to you, you had zero complaints other than the amount of time he’d spend on football.
you surprised him with a fancy restaurant that he’d been wanting to try for at least a year now, but never did because he said it was too much money. kenye was ecstatic and his parents were surprised, but not too surprised since they know how much you love him.
the waiter came by to ask for drinks, you made sure to give lamine a certain look when you told the waiter you wanted water. you noticed his mother looked over and squinted her eyes slightly, but didn’t say anything just yet.
“so, how have you two been, with the whole moving in situation?” lamine’s mother asked as the waiter made his way out.
you look over to lamine, pretending you need his permission to speak, he gives you a confused nod and you take that as a green light, “it’s been good, still needs decorating though.”
she nods suspiciously and his dad steps in, “and with his football schedule?” he asks.
lamine talks this time, “she’s been enjoying it, more time to herself with me annoying her,” he jokes, winking at you, you give a short laugh and nod.
the waiter finally made his way back and asked for our orders, you waited until everyone took theirs to do your prank. you bit your lip and looked over to lamine nervously.
“am i allowed to get the pasta this time?” you ask with pleading eyes.
lamine’s face immediately dropped and turned white, the waiter paused, and his mother immediately spoke, “lamine yamal nasraoui ebana.” she said in a stern voice.
“get whatever you want honey,” she smiled at you, “get her the pasta, thank you.” she told the waiter as he nodded and left again.
“lamine what is wrong with you?” she said, furrowing her eyebrows.
his dad spoke up, “that is not the way you treat your woman, son.” he shook his head no, disappointed.
“what!? i don’t know what she’s talking about!” he defended himself, looking at you in shock.
“you told me to lay off a few pounds the other week.” you mumbled.
he almost laughed, “what? you’re out of your mind.”
lamine’s father stood up and started to walk towards the other side where you two were sitting, you immediately waved your hands close to your chest.
“no, no, it’s just a prank!” you said nervously, “i’m sorry.”
his mom let out a grateful sigh, “you scared me!” she said, putting her hand on her chest.
lamine put his hand on your thigh, “i’m eating half of your pasta.” he whispered.
-
kylian mbappe
kylian had invited you to have lunch with his team before he went off to training in madrid for a while, you obviously accepted, but you weren’t letting him go without pulling a prank on him.
your salad had arrived first, before everyone else’s meal and you poked at it for a few seconds. then, you quietly looked over at kylian.
“can i ask you something?” you spoke just loud enough for him to hear.
he looked up from his pasta that had just arrived, “yeah?”
you lowered your voice, “i don’t really want the salad anymore.”
he shrugged, “that’s okay.”
you looked toward the waiter walking past, “i kind of want the truffle pasta instead.”
he smiled, rubbing your lower back, “then order it.” he nodded towards the waiter.
you hesitated, “are you sure you’re okay with that?”
he instantly frowned, giving you a confused look, “why wouldn’t i be?”
you shifted in your seat, “because it’s a lot heavier than this.”
“and?” he said, this time patting your thigh, looking at his teammates, scared.
you looked down at your salad, “i know you’ve been trying to get me to eat a little cleaner.” you said, making sure it was loud enough for everyone to hear.
then, conversation around the table stopped, and vinícius slowly lowered his fork.
rodrygo looked directly at kylian. “bro?”
kylian looked around the table, and back at you, betrayed, “i have been trying to what!?”
you held in your laugh, “i just didn’t want you thinking i wasn’t listening.”
vinícius leaned back in his chair, “kylian.” he said, while giving him a dirty look, “she eats ‘clean’ enough, look at her.”
jude smiles at you, “why are you controlling what your girl eats, mate?”
“no, i’m not controlling what she eats!” kylian raised his voice slightly, pleading.
camavinga stared at him, “oh, so you’re just one of those ‘just have a salad’ guys?” he asked.
“absolutely not!” he said, laughing out of disbelief, “she’s lying to you all!”
rodrygo shook his head, “that’s awful, kylian.”
jude couldn’t stop smiling, sensing it wasn’t true, “mate, if this is true, you’re finished.”
“i promise on everything, i have never once told her what to eat.” he laughs, throwing up his hands.
you looked up at him, “so i can order the pasta?” you ask, finally laughing into his shoulder, lifting up your phone to show you were recording.
“now, i don’t know if you can.” he rolls his eyes and pats your head.
-
jude bellingham
the waiter smiled politely as he finished taking everyone’s food order. he looked around the table one last time before writing down the last few drinks.
“anything else?” he asked, tapping his pen on the notepad.
you looked at the menu again. your finger grazed absentmindedly against the list of drinks before you turned toward jude.
“i was thinking about getting one of those strawberry refreshers.” you spoke quietly.
he nodded without even looking up, “okay love.”
you hesitated, trying to make it believable, “are you sure?” you asked softly, “that it’s okay i mean.”
jude looked over at you, “yeah?” he answered, confused.
you glanced back at the waiter, “it’s got like sixty grams of sugar.” you pause for a second, and now his whole family is looking at you, “i know you’ve been telling me i should probably cut back a little.”
jude’s eyebrows practically disappeared into his hairline, “i’ve been telling you what?” he asked.
you nod, closing your lips together, “i just wanted to check first.”
the waiter awkwardly lowered his pen, looking between you two.
denise slowly turned toward her son, “jude victor william.”
then this father closed the menu in his hands shut, “is there something you’d like to tell us?” he asked calmly.
“what!?” jude said, his eyes widening.
joke smirked, definitely aware of the prank you were pulling on him, “hold on, he leaned forward, “are you rationing her drinks?” he asked.
“no!” jude answered immediately, nodding his head left and right.
you bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling as you watched denise cross her arms.
“because i raised you to mind your own plate.” she said, raising her eyebrows and giving him a look.
mark nodded in agreement, “your mother doesn’t even tell me what i can order, let alone me telling her!”
jude looked between all three of them, “i have literally never told her she can’t drink anything!”
you looked down at the menu again, “so, the refresher’s okay then?” you asked quietly.
he stared at you, “baby, you can order whatever you want, whenever.” he laughs, “hell, you could order four of them.”
jobe couldn’t help but laugh, but he tried to play it off by looking away and wiping his face.
jude pointed at his younger brother, “he’s cracking,” he said, squinting his eyes at you.
“you’re supposed to be helping me!” you said in between your teeth while giving him a light kick under the table.
“i couldn’t help it! you should’ve seen his face.” jobe grinned, “best laugh i’ve had in a while.”
you finally picked up your phone from against your glass, “thank you.” you laughed.
jude saw the recording and closed his eyes shut, “i cannot believe my entire family thought i was policing your sugar intake.”
mark reached over and patted him on the shoulder, “i’ll be honest,” he said clearing his throat, “i was about thirty seconds away from having a private father-son conversation.”
jude’s face dropped and the whole table laughed, you clung onto his arm, giving him a couple pecks to make him feel better before whispering in his ear, “i’m sorry.”
reader who isn’t the fastest, the strongest, or the best with a gun, but who’s known for being the smartest of the group.
and john soap mactavish who has reader of their back, deliberately thrusting into that spongy spot that had you cumming and squirting repeatedly throughout the night till a numbing haze completely takes over your head.
“goin’ dumb fa me, bon?”
he smiles when you don’t even have it in you to disagree. normally, you’d always had a witty remark ready for him but perhaps your jaw was too sore or your brain was just pure mush (or maybe both).
he taps your cheek twice, then three time more, urging you to open your eyes. “your eyes, I need them on me.”
you mewl as you can barely make out the fuzzy outline of his body standing tall over you. but perhaps you’re doing something right since he seems to chuckle with amusement.
he leans over you, pressing your legs towards your shoulders as his forearms find home on either side of your head. you groan deeply as you feel him slot himself even deeper inside you. who knew it was even possible?
his voice comes out low and gruff as he caresses your head. “that’s it, babygirl. don need that pretty brain of yours.”
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the 141 aren’t stupid -- they wouldn’t carry a photo of you in their vest or helmet. no name written anywhere, nothing on their body that could potentially trace to a woman back home.
but they all carry something.
simon has a hair tie on his wrist. black, cheap, the kind you buy in packs of fifty and lose all over the damn flat. it sits under the cuff of his glove, biting into his skin, reminding him exactly why he needs to make it home. it always smells like your shampoo for a bit before it starts to smell like his own sweat, he finds himself a new one on the bathroom floor before each deployment.
price wears a watch. it’s not the watch that’s about you, really. it’s that he started setting the second time zone to match yours. he checks it more than he should, especially at night when he can’t sleep and it’s three a.m where he is and eight a.m where you are. he’ll think: ‘she’ll be making coffee, i wonder what she wore to bed’ and that’s the closest he lets himself get to mixing you with work.
kyle wears a bracelet. it’s thin braided yarn, the kind of thing you learned to make as a kid at camp. you made it on a slow sunday afternoon while he was half-asleep on your thigh. he said ‘oh, that’s sick, darling. ta!’, put it on and hasn’t taken it off since. it’s absolutely filthy these days. and when it starts to fray, he simply keeps re-knotting it, sometimes johnny has to help get it tight.
johnny carries a folded square of paper that’s gone so soft it feels like fabric, he keeps it safe in a zipped pocket on his kit. it’s a grocery list in your looping handwriting that you’d left him on the kitchen counter one morning. eggs, soy milk, the good butter, berries, your stupid crisps, wine (red). it’s got a small heart in the corner -- that’s the most worn bit because he brushes his thumb over it every night.
women around the world heed my call. your comfort above everything. dont put on those shoes that hurt after walking in them for 30 minutes dont wake up 1 hour and a half earlier to put on make up or do your hair dont tolerate a man talking down to you dont follow trends you dont care for dont let yourself feel hungry dont go places or do things to please someone else and most importantly. try that hobby or class or job that you think you will fail at.
This going straight into the drafts but my mildly unpopular opinion is that I think it’s fair when people complain about 90% of cod fics being the same cookie cutter content of subfem dom ghost content that’s mildly mysoginistic and is just a carbon copy of the smut that came before it.
And it’s not saying that those fics are (entirely) bad, they can be completely fine when the mood strikes but if you’re looking for any alternative kinks, or comfort fluff, or angst-comfort, or angst, or literally any other cod character that isn’t the top four (ghost, konig, price, soap) you’re pretty much left with scraps.
And whenever people complain about it, it’s met with a dismissive “well why don’t YOU write those fics? Writers don’t owe you anything, you selfish prick!” Which A, rude, and B, we ARE.
I consistently try and make the content I personally want to see more of. More sub characters, different characters that aren’t the same four, more angst and comfort, more fluff. And I get lucky if I break 100 notes because that content is pushed to the bottom of the bucket. But my poly 141 stuff? The smut with soap? My top posts of all time. You know, the ones that I didn’t put actual effort into and spat out on a phone.
And ultimately, I don’t want to be doing this forever. I write this so that one day someone else will get inspired to do it and I can step back and read something I enjoy. But no one’s doing that because the work isn’t valued as much as “big scary ghost dominates small fem reader” smut. And it’s tiring. Because that’s not the content I want to make, but anything else will be left out as scraps that no one will eat.
roald dahl was antisemitic and misogynistic. george orwell was openly homophobic. edgar allan poe married his 13 year old cousin. dr seuss cheated on his wife (and was racist as well as antisemitic!). hp lovecraft was racist as fuck.
anyways they’re fucking dead it’s not like you’re enabling their behaviors in the afterlife or something. then again I think they bleed into the books so uh keep an eye out for that
the difference between these old white guys and jk rowling is that the former group is all dead. jk rowling is alive and using your money to oppress trans people
quarterly reminder that if i reblog something ai-generated it is 110% and always an accident and for the love of god please tell me so i can delete it from my blog
"That’s what makes Zohran Mamdani’s election in New York so unsettling to the old order. New York City is not just another municipality; it’s a sovereign-scale entity. Its population surpasses 38 states. Its metropolitan GDP trails only Texas and California.
It is, by any metric, a small country masquerading as a city.
It governs more lives and more wealth than most nations. If democratic socialism — housing reform, public banking, equitable taxation — functions here, it obliterates the myth that such governance can’t work at scale. The fear isn’t ideological. It’s empirical. Because if Mamdani can keep the lights on, reduce homelessness, and maintain economic growth without catering to Wall Street, then the capitalist gospel collapses under its own dead weight.
What terrifies the establishment isn’t failure. It’s feasibility.
If it works in New York, there’s no reason it can’t work in Nebraska. If it works in Queens, it can work in Kansas City. And once proof exists, belief becomes irrelevant. The ship of democracy, fully refitted, will keep sailing — and no one can claim it isn’t American."
Why is nobody writing for rick sanchez X fics anymore??? Gahhhhhh and I don't mean the nsfw, I'm sick of seeing those! I mean like the adventure packed fic type shiii y'know? Like romance but subtle, SLOW BURN that makes me anticipate the next chapter... I wish people write fics again.....
blakekathryn
prguitarman
