ā this is exactly how it should feel when itās meant to be. ā
ā UNTHINKABLE, Alicia Keys.
šš ā A SOCIAL MEDIA AU, MATURE, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, CONTAINS MEMES, USE OF INSTAGRAM/TWITTER, CRACK!FIC, FRIENEMIES TO LOVERS, JUDE IS A SWEETHEART & A YEARNER, READER IS CONTROVERSIAL & AVOIDANT, DISCUSSES RACIAL STEREOTYPES & OTHER TOPICS
AUTHORāS MESSAGEā¦ hello everyone! new crackfic to have something to update to when iām losing it. this will be full of stuff thatās funny to me bc I might be self inserting. NO FACE CASTS, THE PICTURES ARE JUST MEANT FOR POSE & OUTFIT INSPIRATION. itās okay if every picture is of a different person lol use ur imagination thatās why weāre here! NONE OF THE PHOTOS ARE MINE, ALL CREDS TO PINTEREST (:
PLEASE BE AWARE this fic will touch base on a lot of drama ā i.e., the stereotype of footballers only dating white women, racial stereotypes other countries have for americans/poc/black women & men, and many more. reader smokes weed & reader drinks, if any of this makes you uncomfortable please donāt read cause I donāt care. i also donāt care if something i say doesnāt seem realistic THIS IS JUST FANFICTION. some names were changed around (djedās sister & a few more) just to keep the point of imagination up.
šš ā you just turned 25. young, freshly graduated from your dream school of NYU, and ready for the world. during your freshman year, you meet a new face that becomes close enough to a second half for you- your roommate brianna spence. together, you two spend the rest of your college years joined at the hip and traveling the world. it helps when her brother plays for englandās national football team.
youāre a woman of many words. very strong-minded, strong-willed, and strong-hearted. you came from a single mother home, with only one sister and the incessant need to provide for them wheneverās possible. you scored an editorial position at the Vogue office in the financial district and just moved into your one bedroom apartment in the heart of the city (with an amazing view). sure you smoke and drink, and curse and cry, but the world is at your fingertips and youāre enjoying what itās got to offer. everything in your life was going perfect.
until he follows you on instagram one nightā and then everything changes forever.
if you made it this far, i will give you a kiss muah thank u for taking a chance on a random crackfic that has no expectations and maybe even some mischaracterization for the plot i love u and i hope u enjoy
My view on football since the WC and the internets reaction
I have never been a football fan, like ever. I was always a book kinda girly, a music kinda girly, ygm? I was never into sports like in general besides for a short period when I was really into basketball but I was like 8 and I cannot tell you a single rule in the sport.
So the world cup comes around while I have my opinions on certain player and teams, i was just trying to catch the world cup vibe, because if I didnt I would get massive FOMO.
So I watched a couple games, learned a couple rules and rooted for Sweden, Egypt, and England, those were my faves. And later i obviously joined the hate train on the Argentina team simply because I watched the egypt game and thought it was massively unfair (before that game never watched an argentina game, and the ones after I have no complaints besides the fact that clearly some players got into the wrong sport, and no I dont hate messi)
Okay the world cup has ended, and now my fyp is now showing me a lot of football content, and now I know shi i didnt want to know.
Looking at certain comment sections, i think back at Leao's comment, and while i was rightfully upset when it first posted, now i kinda see his point. Certain women have now kpopified these ballers/ being extremely parasocial abt them.
Because why is every girlfriend getting hate? Like boho bitch you never had a chance move and stop hating on them? Also yall are so upset that micheal olise, a grown 24 yo man with money to spend, is spending his money on a yacht and pretty women. Like yall are dead ass more upset he isnt what you imagined him to be than the alledged baby mama drama.
And thinking abt the way some women are moving, if football was my life and soul, and i know that certain women are into the sport right now simply for parasocial behaviour, i would probably also tell you bitches to fuck right off! You are genuinely ruining my fun, and i am a casual watcher who hasnt even decided on fav teams, imagine what these genuine football fans (that happen to be men) are experiencing (no, i am not babifying these men either, honestly fuck them too because why we generalising, your sport isnt niche)
And before you lot start coming for me, no i dont agree with the fuckers post, women can enjoy football, it isnt rocket science, team A wants goal in Team Bs goal, its not hard to understand, and we can assume what yellow and red cards mean if we cant be bothered to google what it means. Offside is literally just a guy in team A cannot be closer to team Bs goal than the second to last Team B defender. Like its not hard to understand or enjoy, but the women that engage in this parasocial shi are ruining the social aspects of football on social media. Yeah write ur fanfics, but dont send hate to their girls and cry when they live their life when they owe nothing to you silly bitches.
Im more upset that Olise cant catch nyash, like take a class or smt you got the money.
he is a 24 year old man like please be serious. sometimes the parasocial behaviour gotta be checked cause they moving like heās actually their boyfriend or sumn.
# synopsis: When rising football star Michael Olise suffers a devastating knee injury just at the beginning of the season, the club makes one petition. Along with rehabilitation, Michael must work with the clubās psychologist upon his return to action. The problem? They canāt stand each other. As months of working pushes them together, their mutual resentment gives way to understanding, blurring the lines between professionalism and the silly thing that comes after friendship; love.
š¦¹ judeās love language is loud and physical. heās the type to track your mood through the smallest shifts in your voice or posture before you even realize youāre tired.
š¦¹ heās a physical leaner ā if youāre standing at the kitchen counter or doing the dishes, he will walk up behind you and attach himself like a heavy human backpack. heāll rest his chin right on your shoulder, wrap his arms tightly around your waist, and gently sway both of you back and forth while whispering in your ear:
āsweetheart, whenās the last time you drank water? come on, take a break with me for five minutes.ā
āyou look stressed... do you need help with that, or do you just want me to rub your back?ā
āare you hungry yet? tell me what youāre craving, iāll make it for you.ā
š¦¹ he has zero concept of personal space when heās at home ā his favorite spot on earth is resting his head right in your lap while you scroll on your phone or watch TV. heāll reach up just to mindlessly play with your fingers or guide your hand into his hair, letting out a soft sigh the second your fingertips brush his scalp.
š¦¹ whenever he comes back into the warm apartment, his hands are always freezing. instead of warming them up himself, heāll immediately slide his cold fingers under the hem of your oversized sweater or into your hoodie pockets, grinning impishly when you gasp at the cold while he buries his face into your neck to keep you from pulling away.
š¦¹ despite having an entire wardrobe of his own, he insists on wearing your thick fuzzy socks around the house, stretching them out while he padded around the hardwood floor. when you call him out on it, heāll just pull you into his lap and tuck your feet under his thighs to ākeep them warm for you.ā
š¦¹ djed, on the other hand, rarely asks ā he just acts. his observation skills are completely silent, moving around the apartment like a steady anchor.
š¦¹ the second you walk through the door carrying heavy grocery bags, he appears out of nowhere, seamlessly taking them right out of your hands before you even have the chance to set them down.
š¦¹ heās the one who notices when youāre quiet; he wonāt press you to talk, but heāll walk past the couch, wrap his arms around your shoulders, and pull you back against his chest for a solid ten seconds just to let you breathe.
š¦¹ youāll casually mention craving a specific snack, and suddenly itās sitting on the kitchen counter when you wake up, right next to a fresh cup of coffee he poured for you.
š¦¹ heās hyper-aware of your comfort in a way thatās completely non-verbal. if you fall asleep on the couch, he won't wake you up; heāll quietly tuck a heavy blanket over your shoulders, adjust the pillow under your neck, and gently pick up your phone to plug it into the charger on the side table before softly pressing his lips to your temple.
š¦¹ if youāre doing your skincare, makeup, or tying your shoes, djed has a habit of just leaning against the doorframe, watching you with that quiet intensity. if your hair keeps falling into your face while you're busy or cooking, his hands will silently reach from behind, gathering your hair up and tying it back into a bun or a small braid ā yes, he specifically learned how to braid just for you.
š¦¹ because jude is so vocal and expressive, djed sometimes quietly worries that his own low-key ways go unnoticed. heād never voice it out loud, but every now and then heāll just stand back and watch jude shower you with attention with a subtle look in his eyes.
š¦¹ but you see right through him. every single time, youāll catch djedās gaze from across the room, walk over, and press a sequence of soft kisses to his jaw, his cheek, and his lips ā quietly reminding him that his love is felt just as deeply.
š£². 02. living together as a three
š¦¹ the apartment has a natural rhythm where neither of them fights for your attention. you were honestly impressed at first at how seamlessly the two of them could live together and tag-team taking care of you throughout the day.
š¦¹ the media speculation is an absolute circus. keeping your relationship offline was the only choice ā mostly because the thought of publicly labeling one as āthe boyfriendā and hiding the other felt impossible to all three of you.
š¦¹ paparazzi constantly capture low-quality pictures of the three of you grabbing coffee during their rare shared off-days. twitter threads run wild trying to figure out āwho she's actually with,ā while jude secretly scrolls through the theories at 2AM, wheezing into his pillow and reading the dumbest ones out loud to you and djed.
ālook at this one,ā jude snickers, showing you a blurry photo of djed opening the car door for you while jude carries your jacket. āāis it a love triangle? or is she just the luckiest girl in europe?ā... little do they know.ā
š¦¹ if youāre playing video games together, jude will talk endless shit, tease about being way better than you, and execute all the competitive boyfriend measures ā only for djed to quietly mess with jude's controller so you end up winning every single match.
āi was going easy on her!ā jude whines, throwing his head back dramatically into djed's lap while djed just smirks down at him from behind his phone. āi wasn't even using half my skills!ā
š¦¹ in minecraft, jude helps you design the village and care for the farm animals while djed mysteriously goes off-cam mining for twenty minutes and comes back with full diamond armor for all three of you. only for both of them to impulsively attack a nearby pillager outpost, accidentally triggering a bad omen raid that gets all three of you killed and your beautiful hours of work completely burned to the ground.
āit was djed's idea!ā jude yells, frantically trying to re-spawn while djed just quietly sighs next to you, watching your village go up in flames. āhe swung first, i was just protecting the team!ā
š¦¹ morning routines are a total pile-up: jude will cling to your side begging for ten more minutes of sleep, while djed is already up, leaning over the bed to kiss the crown of your head before handing you both fresh water.
š¦¹ being the youngest of the three of you, jude definitely has that natural younger-boyfriend energy ā not in a needy way, but in how seamlessly he falls into being pampered. you and djed both have a silent agreement to let him get away with a little extra complaining, whether it's giving him the biggest slice of dessert or fondly shaking your heads when he dramatically flops across both your laps after a long match.
ālook, djed agrees with me,ā jude says, leaning his entire weight against your side while djed just reaches over to ruffle his hair without looking up. āi'm literally the baby here, i shouldn't have to do the dishes today.ā
š¦¹ but your absolute favorite part of the day is waking up or falling asleep sandwiched between their warm bodies hugging you like a safe buoy. bonus points when both of them simultaneously nudge their noses into the crook of your neck on either side ā instant butterflies, every single time.
š£². 03. behind closed doors ā one-on-one
į°.į Jude
š¦¹ jude in bed is all about patience, deep eye contact, and making sure your body is completely attuned to his before he even thinks about moving faster.
š¦¹ he whines a lot. at the very beginning, he used to try so hard to bite it back out of embarrassment, but you made it clear right away that those breathless sounds were the absolute hottest thing youād ever heard. now, heās completely vocal and unashamed.
š¦¹ you love to deliberately tease him ā holding back just out of reach, rolling your hips a little too slowly, or keeping your hands pinned to his chest ā just to hear those desperate whines break out of his throat.
āplease, baby... stop teasing me, i'm literally begging you,ā he whimpers into your neck, his breath hot against your collarbone while his hips jerk helplessly into yours. ājust give it to me, please...ā
š¦¹ heās remarkably versatile depending on what you ask for, fully capable of pinning your wrists above your head if you tell him to, but his absolute favorite setting is slow, deep, and very affectionate.
š¦¹ he loves to cradle the sides of your face while he slowly slides inside you, his thumb smoothing over your cheekbone every time a shaky breath escapes your lips.
ālook at me, baby... youāre taking me so well. tell me if you need me to slow down.ā
āyou feel so warm around me... just relax, i've got you.ā
š¦¹ his hands are anchored firmly on your hips, holding you steady in place while he fucks into you with a steady pressure that makes your toes curl.
š¦¹ he will literally pause mid-stroke just to press kisses to your forehead, your nose, and your swollen lips, whispering quiet praise into your mouth until youāre completely undone.
āso good for me... so perfect. just like that.ā
š¦¹ heās the type who strictly refuses to let himself come first ā he genuinely treats your satisfaction like a high-stakes mission, adjusting his position and tracking every hitched breath to make sure you get your relief before he takes his own.
āyouāre coming first-ā he pants, his thumb stroking your hip. ādonāt even try to argue with me, pretty girl.ā
į°.į Djed
š¦¹ if jude is a slow-burning flame, djed is an absolute thunderstorm ā the contrast between his quiet domestic gentleness and his bedroom intensity will leave you completely breathless.
š¦¹ he doesnāt do slow build-ups unless you explicitly demand it; the second the bedroom door shuts, his heavy hands are on your waist, lifting you right onto the mattress or pinning you against the wall.
š¦¹ heās acutely aware of every single sensitive spot on your body ā especially your thighs. djed loves to abuse this knowledge in public, idly resting his palm high on your inner thigh under the table while you're out at a restaurant. heāll slowly trace circles against your skin with his thumb right through your clothes, forcing you to shoot him a warning glare while he just takes a slow sip of his drink with a knowing smirk.
š¦¹ he has an absolute obsession with marking you ā his teeth dragging over the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder, biting down just hard enough to leave purple hickeys that linger for a week.
š¦¹ when he flips you onto your stomach, his large palm comes down against your ass with a sharp slap that leaves a hot flush on your skin, his low voice rumbling right against your spine.
āyou like being taken like this, don't you? show me how good it feels.ā
š¦¹ sometimes he gets so caught up in the heat, fucks into you with such force that your hands scramble for purchase on the headboard, forcing you to turn your head and sob out his name just to beg him to slow down.
š¦¹ and the second you ask? that raw dominance melts back into his protective nature ā heāll instantly check his pace, pulling you flush against his chest so you can feel his racing heart while he slowly fucks into you until you both break together.
š£². 04. behind closed doors ā all three of you
š¦¹ when itās all three of you in bed, the dynamic shifts into something overwhelmingly intense yet perfectly balanced, with jude giving you the gentle intimacy while djed keeps the raw and heavy pace.
š¦¹ jude will stay right at your head, kissing your lips, whispering endless soft praise into your ear, and keeping your mind calm while djed takes control of your pussy, working his hands over your hips and setting a fierce rhythm from behind.
š¦¹ djed loves watching how soft jude gets with you mid-act. his favorite part is when you suck him off while jude eats you out.
š¦¹ there is never any rushing or awkwardness over who goes next; if djed gets too rough and brings you close to your limit, jude is instantly there to take over, pulling you into his lap to give you a moment to breathe while djed trails hot kisses down your spine.
š¦¹ by the end of the night, youāre completely exhausted and well-cared for, sandwiched tightly between djedās solid back anchoring you from behind and judeās chest pressed against yours, both of them refusing to let you sleep anywhere except right between them.
-> reblog to support me, if you enjoyed reading this and please let me know your thoughts in the comments! ą½ą½²ā¤ļøą½ą¾
pairing: djed spence x reader(afab)
genre: smut, NSFW
warnings: needy/insecure!djed spence, soft jealousy (he's a yearner!!), oral (f. receiving), established relationship, very cutesy and soft actually
wc: 3k
a/n: thank you for the request!! i'm not usually a fan of the typical "you're mine" jealousy trope, so i hope you won't be disappointed!
The metal of the bench is cool against the backs of your thighs, the late-afternoon sun dipping low enough to stretch long shadows across the pitch. Youāve watched the session from start to finish ā you always do, knowing how much it means to him ā but for the last twenty minutes, youāve just been mindlessly scrolling on your phone, letting the distant rumble of shouts wash over you.
Practice wrapped up a while ago, the rest of the team already scattered toward the locker rooms. Djed promised heād be out by eight. Itās quarter past now.
Youāre just about to push yourself up to stretch your legs and shake off the chill when a shadow falls over you, blocking the last of the sunlight.
āHey?ā
You look up. It isn't Djed.
Itās one of the newer guys ā broad-shouldered, carrying a casual grin, and inexplicably still wearing his full training kit. Youāve spotted him around the grounds over the last week or so, but youāve never actually spoken to him. Honestly, you rarely talk to any of Djedās teammates. The rest of the squad knows youāre Djed's girl, and more importantly, they know how territorial he gets. But this guy is clearly a kamikaze. He hasn't gotten the memo yet.
Well. Heās about to.
āHi.ā You offer a brief, polite smile ā the customer-service kind that lasts maybe two seconds and makes it obvious you aren't interested.
He misses the hint entirely.
āSo... can I get the pretty girlās name?ā
The polite smile stays pinned to your face, nowhere near reaching your eyes. āI have a boyfriend.ā
He chuckles, a little too loud for the emptying pitch. āRight, yeah, thatās what they all say when you try to say hello.ā
Without asking, he drops onto the bench beside you ā closer than he has any right to be, his thigh almost pressing against yours. He starts rambling about the session, gesturing lightly, clearly trying to pivot and slide into a smooth conversation. But youāre not even listening anymore, because his hand has landed on the bench right next to yours. His fingers lightly graze the edge of your knuckles.
Maybe itās an accident.
Then his pinky hitches over yours.
You immediately yank your hand back, your heart giving a sharp kick against your ribs. āI donāt think-ā
āHey.ā
Just one word, but itās enough to tell you Djed has seen plenty. And judging by the slow thud of his footsteps on the turf, heās already closed the distance. If this rookie had an ounce of sense, heād gather his things and disappear. Instead, he just sits there. Idiot.
You turn your head just as Djed stops right at the edge of the bench. You stand up immediately and step into his side like a lifeline.
A light sheen of sweat still gleams on his temples, his long dreadlocks pulled back away from his face. He doesn't look at you. His eyes are locked onto the other player ā dark, unreadable, his mouth pressed into a flat line.
His arm comes around your waist. It isn't gentle, but it isn't rough either. Just heavy. Protective. His fingers sink right into the soft flesh above your hip, anchoring you to his side. You can feel the heat of him through his shirt.
āGood session?ā he asks, though he isn't asking you.
The guy blinks, trying to recover his footing. āYeah, yeah, decent. Was just keeping your girl company.ā
A tiny, bitter laugh threatens to bubble up in your throat. Now he acts like having a boyfriend means something.
Djedās thumb shifts. It slips right beneath the hem of your shirt, finding bare skin. The sudden warmth of his palm sends a shiver straight down your spine. He still doesn't look down at you ā his eyes remain locked onto the other man, unblinking.
āAppreciate that,ā Djed says, his voice dangerously low.
His thumb drags a lazy circle against your waist. The pad of his skin is calloused and warm, pressing in just firm enough that you know itāll leave a faint, tender mark by morning. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from letting out a breathy gasp.
āWe should grab food,ā he continues, the casual edge in his tone entirely fake. āYou hungry, baby?ā
You manage a small nod. Itās hard to keep a straight face watching the rookie slowly back away the second Djedās focus shifts off him.
āIāll let you two get to it, then. Good meeting you.ā With a quick step, the guy turns on his heel and practically vanishes into the shadows, like he was never there at all.
Djed doesn't say a word. His jaw is set, the muscle flexing right beneath his ear, and the arm locked around your waist hasn't loosened even a fraction. Youāre pinned flush against his side, like youāve been stitched into his skin.
Finally, when the sound of the rookieās hurried footsteps fades into total silence, you canāt hold it in anymore. You break into a quiet laugh, ducking your head to bury your face in the warm crook of his neck.
āYou shouldāve seen his face,ā you murmur, teasing him softly. āYou really need to be a little nicer to the new guys.ā
You know heās going to roll his eyes before he even does it.
Sure enough, his chest huffs against yours. āNew guys need to learn not to flirt with taken girls.ā
You twist slightly within his grip, just enough to look up at him. Heās still staring down the empty place where the guy was standing a minute ago, his nostrils flared, his breathing slow and measured.
āHey,ā you try again, softer this time. āLook at me. Iām right here.ā
That breaks the spell.
He exhales and lets his forehead fall forward to rest against the crown of your head. His dreads drape over your shoulders, tickling your cheek, smelling like fresh grass, heat, and that familiar clean scent thatās entirely him.
āLetās go home.ā
The drive is silent.
Djedās hand rests on your thigh the entire way, his palm heavy and warm through the fabric of your skirt, his broad fingers flexing tight against your skin every time the car idles at a red light. You watch the blurred yellow haze of the streetlamps flicker past the window, wondering whatās going on behind those quiet eyes. Heās never been the yeller. Never thrown a punch. But the weight of his grip tells you everything he isn't saying out loud ā a quiet energy humming just beneath his skin.
The flat is dark when you walk in. He kicks off his trainers, drops his keys on the sideboard.
Youāre only halfway through shrugging off your jacket when his arms come around you from behind, pulling you back against his chest so suddenly your breath hitches. He doesn't let you step away ā his arms wrap tight around your waist, burying you in his warmth, molding your back completely flush against his chest.
Before you can even loosen the sleeves, he buries his face into the sensitive curve of your neck. He nuzzles deep into your skin, inhaling you in one shaky breath, like heās trying to erase every single person who looked at you tonight. His hand slips inside your jacket, palm resting flat against your ribcage, right over the thumping rhythm of your heart.
Unlike your own wildly racing pulse, his breathing is steady and calm. His hand smooths slowly down over your lower stomach and hip, holding you so firmly itās as if heās afraid youāll dissolve right through his fingers if he lets go.
The longer he holds you like this, the messier your breathing becomes. For a split second, a flicker of embarrassment washes over you ā heās clearly in such a raw, overwhelmed state right now, holding onto you like youāre made of fragile glass, and yet you canāt stop the sudden heat pooling in your belly from the stroke of his hand against your skin, or the delicious thrill of your back pressed tight against his broad chest.
āDjed?ā you whisper softly.
A low sound rumbles from his chest ā not words, but a deep and needy whine that vibrates straight through your collarbone. His thumb strokes the side of your neck once, slow and deliberate, tracing your jumpy pulse before his hands slide beneath your thighs and sweep you up off your feet. He effortlessly peels the half-off jacket down your arms, letting it pool onto the floor as he carries you down the dim hallway.
He lays you down softly in the middle of the mattress. The bedroom is bathed in the warm glow of the little nightstand lamp in the corner ā the soft, golden light he always leaves on when he comes home exhausted from training, making the room feel enclosed and safe. He follows you down, but he doesn't pin you beneath his weight or hover over you. Instead, he shifts downward, sinking between your legs and pressing his face right into your stomach. His hands grip your waist and hips like heās anchoring himself to you, his nose nudging the fabric of your top as he lets out a breath he feels like heās been holding for hours.
āCouldnāt stand it,ā he mutters into your belly button. āSeeing him next to you.ā
Your hands drift to his head, fingers sliding into his dreadlocks. āNothing happened.ā
āHe touched you.ā
āBarely.ā
You can feel the subtle tension in his jaw, the raw bruise to his pride. You know he feels stupid for being this affected ā he knows you love him, knows thereās no reason to be threatened, but logic doesn't stop the quiet sting of seeing someone else step into his space. Around you, he canāt even pretend to hide it.
Djedās arms tighten around your middle. Heās so much bigger than you ā his broad shoulders and long legs draped heavily over the lower half of the bed. Itās a striking contrast: this massive athlete curled against your lap like heās desperate for shelter. Looking down at him like this, so raw and stripped of his public composure, sends another ache straight to the pit of your stomach. A slow heat pooling low in your hips, turning your skin warm.
His hands shift, sliding beneath the waistband of your top just enough for his warm palms to press flush against the skin of your waist.
āTake this off,ā he murmurs, his large hands tugging impatiently at the hem of your top. Itās a plea, you realize.
You lift your arms, letting him peel the fabric over your head and toss it to the floor. Your bra follows seconds later. The cool air hits your chest, but before you can shiver, his mouth is on your stomach ā open, hot, and wet, trailing slow, heavy kisses across your ribcage.
His dreads spill across your torso like dark silk, tickling the sensitive skin of your waist.
āTell me Iām the only one,ā he pleads, the words pressed directly into your sternum. āTell me.ā
āYouāre the only one,ā you breathe, your fingers tightening in his hair as a sudden wave of arousal makes your skin feel painfully sensitive.
His tongue traces a maddeningly slow line along the underside of your breast. āAgain.ā
āDjed, youāre the only-ā
He takes your nipple into his mouth, and the rest of the sentence dissolves into a gasp. His lips are soft but insistent, sucking with a rhythm that sends a bolt of heat straight down between your thighs. Your hips involuntarily arch off the mattress, seeking a friction that isn't there yet.
One of his hands slides lower, his thumb hooking beneath the waistband of your skirt. He doesnāt rush ā thatās the thing about Djed. Even when heās needy, even when heās desperate, he takes his time, worshipping every inch of you. He switches to your other breast, laving it with the exact same slow, agonizing devotion while his fingers tug down your skirt with agonizing patience.
You lift your hips to help him, kicking the clothes away until youāre completely bare beneath him in the golden light, while heās still fully dressed in his training kit.
āNot fair,ā you pant, the contrast making you feel deliciously exposed.
Djed chuckles, shooting you a quick, playful glare that makes your cheeks flush. But before he moves down any further, he grabs the hem of his own shirt with one smooth motion, pulling it over his head and tossing it somewhere behind him.
The sudden sight of him ā his defined abs, broad chest, and rich, dark skin gleaming in the warm lamplight ā makes your breath catch in your throat. Heās still wearing his heavy training joggers, but now you have the bare expanse of his chest right above you
Djed lifts his head, his eyes finally meeting yours. Theyāre dark, heavy-lidded, and rimmed with a raw vulnerability that makes your heart hammer against your ribs.
āNeed to taste you,ā he rumbles.
Your stomach clenches hard at the words. He shifts down further, settling his broad chest between your knees, spreading your thighs wide over his shoulders. His calloused thumbs press right into the soft crease where your thigh meets your hip, massaging slow circles into your skin that leave your breathing ragged.
āLook at me.ā
You do.
He holds your gaze as he lowers his mouth, and the first stroke of his tongue is so soft you almost donāt feel it. Then firmer, parting you, finding the spot that makes your back arch off the mattress.
A ragged breath tears from your throat, caught somewhere between a gasp and a whimpering sigh, as your head falls back against the pillows. Your eyes roll shut on their own, the world blurring into pure sensation as your left hand blindly clutches at the duvet, knuckles turning white as you bundle the fabric in your fist.
His dreads brush the insides of your thighs, sending goosebumps shivering across your sensitive skin. The contrast between his coarse hair and your bare skin makes your hips pulse in anticipation. Your right hand searches for him, your fingers tangling deep into the dreads, pulling him closer ā gripping tight just to anchor yourself against the sudden, overwhelming wave of heat pulling low in your belly.
āSo good,ā he murmurs into you, the vibration shooting sparks through your core. āTaste so good, baby.ā
His tongue works in patterns you canāt track ā lazy circles, then flat strokes, then sudden flicks that have desperate sounds tearing from your throat. He reads your body like a language heās fluent in, adjusting the rhythm and pressure based on every hitched breath, every shudder, every way your hips roll against his face.
One of his hands leaves your waist, sliding lower until a finger presses lightly against your entrance. Not pushing in yet ā just resting there, waiting for your permission. The simple weight of his fingertip brushed against you, hovering without pushing, makes your hips shift up against him in desperate impatience, practically begging for more.
āPlease, Djedā¦ā The word cracks out of you.
He slides in one finger, then two, curling upward in a way that makes your vision stutter. Your head falls back against the pillows, every muscle in your body taut, hit by the realization that you never want this feeling to end ā that if he stopped now, it would break you.
And itās like he hears the silent plea in your posture. His mouth never stops, his tongue relentless now, driving you wild while his fingers work in perfect sync. The dual sensation has you climbing toward something so intense it feels dangerously close to shattering you completely.
You force your eyes open, fighting through the haze to look down at him. The view from above completely wrecks you: his dark eyebrows furrowed in intense focus, his mouth slick and devoted between your thighs, working so earnestly to pull every broken gasp out of you. Watching him give himself over to you so completely, looking so dangerously handsome and concentrated on your pleasure, almost sends you over the edge right then and there.
He pulls back just a fraction, his lips glistening, his chin slick in the soft amber light. His eyes look up at you, completely wrecked and wide with a desperate, heavy need.
āTell me,ā he pleads. āPleaseā¦ just tell me youāre mine.ā
āIām yours,ā you whisper. āOnly yours, Djed.ā
He leans in to press a hot, lingering kiss to the delicate skin of your inner thigh, his breath searing hot against your damp skin as a shudder rolls through his shoulders at the raw sound of your voice.
He adds a third finger, stretching you gently, and you watch the muscles in his forearm flex with the motion. His mouth descends again, sucking hard on your clit, and the combination finally tips you over the edge.
Your body convulses. Overwhelming pleasure snaps through you, making your thighs clamp tight around his head. He groans into you, relishing the way you squeeze around his fingers, riding out every pulse, every aftershock, until youāre left completely limp, trembling, and gasping for air against the pillows.
For a long moment, the room is silent except for the sound of your shared breathing. His fingers slowly slip free, leaving you feeling delightfully empty and aching for the rest of him.
He crawls back up your body slowly, leaving a trail of damp kisses across your stomach, your chest, and the sensitive crook of your throat. His face is entirely undone ā lips swollen, eyes needy, his dreads falling wild around his shoulders as he collapses against you.
āDonāt ever leave me,ā he whispers, burying his face into your neck as his chest heaves.
His hips press flush against your thigh, and you can feel how painfully hard he is, his dick trapped behind the thick fabric of his joggers. But he doesnāt demand anything, he doesn't ask. He doesnāt rut against you or try to rush you. He just clings to you, his massive arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his ragged breaths cooling against your collarbone.
You run your fingers through his hair with soothing strokes. āIām not going anywhere.ā
A shudder rolls through him. After a beat of quiet silence, he shifts just enough to rub the heavy bulge of his length along the side of your thigh. The friction sends a fresh pulse of heat pooling low in your stomach, reawakening that familiar ache between your legs.
āNeed to be inside you,ā he whispers, so quiet you barely catch it. āNeed to feel you around meā¦ā
He lifts his head, his glassy eyes searching your face for permission.
And then he waits.
-> reblog to support me, if you enjoyed reading this and please let me know your thoughts in the comments! ą½ą½²ā¤ļøą½ą¾
jude being absolutely obsessed with the girl he fucks 24/7 (aka you) , loving every inch of her even if she probably enjoys arguing with him more than having sex.
warnings : sex, toxic jude, cussing, pussy eating, over stimulation
not proofread!
jude puts his phone down with a thud, rubbing his tense eyebrows. obviously, he's not taking the loss well, why the fuck would you point that out?
always running your mouth. whatever, he's used to it. he kinda likes it, but he'll never admit that.
twenty minutes later, he hears his phone buzzing and he immediately picks up without even checking if its you, mumbling the room he's in.
after impatiently waiting on the king sized bed, the door finally opens and you walk in wearing shorts and one of his oversized shirts that you stole from him a couple of months ago.
jude gets up, walking over to you and kissing you. his lips smack against yours with some sense of urgency that only you can mimic.
"mm- slow down. i just got here." you try to speak, barely able to pull away before he stuffs his tongue into your mouth, making you moan in surprise.
"please, let me fuck you. im so hard, y/n. i need your pussy." he whines, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks and nose.
you roll your eyes but nod in consent.
jude doesn't waste one millisecond, lifting you up and throwing you down on the plush bed, taking his shirt off right above you which makes you bite your lip.
theres nothing more you love than admiring judes body. he's toned, has abs and a big dick, and muscles. what more can a girl want?
you spread your legs teasingly, taking your time unbuttoning your shorts.
jude clearly doesn't find it nearly as funny aa you do, since he roughly grabs them and pulls them down your legs, throwing them somewhere on the floor.
"you're actually pissing me off." he grumbles, pulling your panties off to and leaning down, licking a strip up your already wet cunt.
"so? that's what im best at- ah!" you moan as his plump lips wrap around your pulsing clit, sucking as if his life depended on it.
you squirmed on the bed, unable to move due to his strong hands holding your thighs down. incoherent words and moans come out of your mouth due to how good and overwhelming his tongue is.
he eats your pussy out like a starved man, groaning at the taste and gripping you tighter when he feels your hips trying to move away from his face.
"don't run from me pretty, you taste so good." he practically moaned into your pussy, tongue licking against the gummy walls.
jude was clearly enjoying himself. not only was he moaning just like you, but he was basically humping the mattress.
"im gonna cummm! please please please don't stop-" you babble on and on continuously, pussy leaking straight into his mouth.
jude doesn't stop or slow down, instead he sucks on your clit again because he knows that makes you cum every time.
you immediately orgasm, gasping and closing your eyes shut in nothing but pure pleasure. "jude, fuck."
he continues eating you out to prolong the orgasm until you smack his head.
"im obsessed with your pussy." he smacks it softly, snickering at your legs closing on instinct.
"can i fuck you now?" he mumbles, sliding his shorts and boxers down.
you roll your eyes, clearly exhausted from the mind blowing orgasm he gave you 30 seconds ago.
"give me a minute, geez.. i don't have footballer stamina."
jude sighs but lays down next to you , watching as you try to slow your breathing and relax.
"okay.. im good. but im not doing any work, yeah?"
"fine with me. cmon, on your belly." he taps your waist, motioning for you to turn around.
you comply silently, lazily rolling around so your face is stuffed in the pillows, extremely close to falling asleep.
jude rolls on a condom before positioning himself behind you, spreading your ass cheeks and pressing his thick mushroom tip against your pussy.
"fuuck. you're so tight." he pushes in, making both of you moan at the delicious feeling.
once his cocks fully inside you, he starts thrusting. not slowly, not softly, but fast and rough. just the way he knows you love. his hips slam against your with a loud plap-plap-plap! , girthy dick hitting spots you didn't know existed.
"shiiittttt, jude!" you moan mindlessly into the pillow, mouth wide open in pleasure.
he groans in response, lifting your hips up so he can fuck his cock into you in a different angle.
"i love your pussy so fucking much, oh my god." he practically whines, eyebrows furred in pleasure as a thin layer of sweat forms on his beautiful skin.
after a couple minutes of nonstop fucking, jude feels your gummy walls clenching around him just enough to make his hips stutter, losing his rhythm.
"you gonna cum, pretty? can feel you- fuck, clenching around me. 's so tight."
you nod into the pillow desperately, turning your head to the side so you can speak clearly.
"im- im gonna cum. please. please let me cum?" you whimper, tears streaming down your face from how good everything feels , even if you were about to fall asleep 6 minutes ago.
judes thrusts turn even rougher (if possible), his breaths coming out hard and quick. "cum with me, pretty."
at his demand, you immediately start cumming all around his cock. moans turning into whines and pussy clenching impossibly tight as the knot unravels in your lower tummy.
he finishes right after you, moaning your name as his hips still, cumming into the condom.
jude collapses ontop of you, kissing your sweaty shoulder as you both try to catch your breath.
"that was.. really fucking good." he mumbles, kissing your neck, then ear.
you only nod in response, too tired to reply verbally. jude knows you're pleased though, noticing the small smile on your face even though your eyes are closed.
jude knows you two aren't exclusive , but sometimes it's nice to pretend otherwise.
break the rules!
šā¤ļøļøą£ŖĖ jude bellingham
intro ā“ļøāøź³.Ėš„ŻĖāĖššĖā ( 3.2k ) jude bellingham x f!reader ā± when thomas tuchel makes a clear announcement that his players arenāt permitted to have sex on match days, judeās girl takes a rebellious approach. she has her manās best interests in mind, but tuchel wonāt be too happy to find out a rule has been broken by his star player. . .
notes ā”āĀ°ą šš+ established relationship of 5 years. unprotected penetrative sex in the recovery room. quickie. softdom!jude. light dirty talk. semi-public. m+f!orgasm. creampie. getting caught!
JULY 11, 2026 ; Miami, Florida...
The Miami sun was beating down on your glowing skin, its light dimmed by the oversized sunglasses you shielded it with as you walked. Later today would be England vs Norway, and your boyfriend was most certainly going to be centre-stage, as usual.
It was the most heartwarming thing to watch him succeed so beautifully and admirably on the biggest platform within the sport, and you felt so privileged to be the woman by his side. The woman of the man who millions of other women yearned for, those who could only dream of being in his arms every night.
The World Cup so far had been incredibleāyou'd enjoyed every moment, and with the exciting state of Jude's team, there were only positives to be celebrated and praises to be made about this period in his career. Enjoyable so it was, except for one small thing. Ridiculous, really, for it truly was small, but there were certain decisions managers made and rules they put into firm place that you just couldn't get on board with. There were the silly decisions they made regarding the events and players on the pitch, there were the criticisms that you believed were much too harshly declared, and then there was what you believed to be the stupidest of them all.
It had been said beforeāby Ancelotti, by Alonso, even by Arbeloa earlier this yearāand now, Thomas Tuchel had been very serious when he'd declared the same thing.
āEngland players may have sex with their partners at any time during the World Cup, except on match days.ā
No, of course you didn't need to be put through the mattress by your man every day of the tournament, but Jude Bellingham never made it easy for a lady to be in his presence without her succumbing to a burning arousal, and even though he was your boyfriend of five years, that arousal somehow burned evermore.
Tuchel had thought the statement quite an obvious and sensible one, a good compromise in comparison to the initially considered approach where the players' partners would be entirely banned from visiting the players' hotel rooms. He realised that approach would be going too far, and that psychologically it would actually affect the men more to be forced away from their women. However, he still believed in sexual abstinence on the day of the game, to preserve energy and focus.
You on the other hand, along with several of the other WAGs, believed that to be a nonsense theory.
These were high-level, elite athletes, with stamina greater than most, and after doing so much exercise, dealing with so much adrenaline, also had sexual needs more than most. It would be cruel to deprive them of such a necessary releaseāyou believed it was almost like a form of therapy, surely? A catharsis drawn from their very bloodstream, bodies needing oxytocin and dopamine to calm their restless and excitable hearts. One round of sex wasn't going to do any harm to their roles on the pitch.
And so, with that strong belief in mind, you found yourself cornering your unassuming boyfriend in the recovery room of England's designated private training base.
Jude took his athleticism very seriously, always adhering to rules in the interest of playing as skilfully and as successfully as possible. It always paid off, so he wasn't about to start messing with what had so far been working in his favour.
But you knew him well enough. You knew that your assumption was correctāthat ejaculatory release could only be beneficial, because restriction and pent-up sexual frustration could only ever be a negative thing. You felt that you'd be doing your duties as a devoted, supporting girlfriend, if he'd hear you out and allow you to.
You'd been sitting with the other WAGs, watching your men run up and down, stretching their muscles, groaning with the exertion. Your eyes never left the gorgeous artwork that was Jude's body, and you hadn't realised you were quite literally biting your lip at him in public, sighing with need, pupils dilated though hidden by your sunglasses. You were wearing a tiny white summer dress with white kitten heelsālikely a little too overdressed for merely attending training, but most of the other girls were with you on that.
And when a break was finally calledāfifteen minutes, to be back there immediately afterwardāyou didn't wait a moment to pounce on him.
As he skipped over to you, all sweaty and slightly breathless, you did something very uncharacteristic. You hugged him despite the sweat, despite your ivory white mini dress, the one you cherished so dearly. Usually, Jude would shower before touching you after training or after a game, and that wasn't because you cared more about your appearance than your boyfriendāit was because he got so sweaty sometimes that it left wet stains on your summer-coloured clothing, and the paparazzi were always waiting around the corner.
Jude was surprised at the way you wrapped your arms around his neck without restraint, not even hesitating to allow his half-drenched shirt to collide with the pristine quality of your dress.
"Hey, baby, what's this?" he chuckled, holding your waist tight as you clung to him.
"Come with me," you whispered, stood up on your tiptoes to reach his ear. āInside.ā
He furrowed his brows in intrigue, wondering if something was wrong; and then you pulled away, took his hand, and strolled off inside the training complex, en route to your destination.
You entered into the recovery room, its purpose for ice baths and hydrotherapy, therefore of no use to anyone at present. And it was when you shut the door behind you, turning to give him that tell-tale smirk, that Jude realised exactly what you were up to.
"Hi, baby," you grinned, waiting for him to say something as he looked you up and down in amusement. Sure enough, your dress was already stained with patches of his sweat.
"I don't even think I need to ask what you're plannin' here."
"No, you don't, because asking wastes time, and we only have fifteen minutes, so cā" You began to walk into the corner you'd been eyeing as the perfect spot, where a wide couch sat before the wall, but Jude took you by the wrist and guided you back to face him.
"Darlin', we're not doin' that in here," he said plainly. His expression was still amused, but he was being serious, because he was still stuck on his refusal to rule-break.
"Why?" you pouted. "You have to hear me out first."
"Alright, whateverāgo on," he smirked.
You interlaced both hands with his, and explained your own theory. "So, it's my personal opinion that Tuchel is viewing sexual intercourse in entirely the wrong way."
Jude raised a brow.
"He's saying it's gonna affect your performance, right? That it'll reduce focus and deplete you of energy, or whatever?"
"Orgasms do suck the life out of me sometimes."
You rolled your eyes. "After the fourth round! Not with a quickie. Nobody said we had to fuck all day and night, but I completely disagree with the statement that sex negatively affects performance." Now you stepped forward, dropping one of his hands to run your digits over his collarbone, a sensual smile on your lips. "I think, that really, it can only make a positive difference."
Jude was grinning wide now, entertained by this display of scientific theory governed by nothing other than the empirical evidence of your hormones.
"Do tell," he joked, provoking you to continue.
You giggled. "Well, we all know how difficult sexual frustration is," you sighed, dropping his other hand now and reaching over the crotch of his shorts, where a growing bulge could be felt beneath. "Surely it's unfair for a manager to force his players to deal with such a thing..." As you spoke, you rubbed and squeezed the weight of him, heart racing as you experienced the familiar feeling of his length hardening further under your touch. "And if you're too frustrated... it might only end up backfiring on the team. Tuchel wouldn't want that, would he?"
Jude shook his head, still smirking, because he refused to visibly fold at the way you spoke and fondled him, even while internally he was going insane.
"And you wanna break that rule in here, yeah?" he asked. "In this room?"
"Mhm. Right now, pretty please..." you sung with faux-innocence into his ear, on your tiptoes again to lean into his chest, still kneading your hand over his shorts.
"Pretty please, hm?" he repeated, with a slight mocking tone that sent a deeper rush of arousal through you. Your panties were clinging tight to your glistening foldsāyou were surely smothered in arousal beneath that fabric.
"Jude..." you whispered, leaning further forward to brush your lips over his neck, breathing in his scent as your tongue darted out within a kiss to the skin.
You heard him hiss, and he felt your reaction, your widening smile just beside his Adam's apple.
āSo," he murmured, "first youāre tryna get me to do somethinā the boss has made illegal, and now youāre tryna get us caught doinā it too.ā
āJā¦ā you beamed innocently, stepping away now and rocking back and forth on your heels. "We won't get caught..."
He shook his head, rolling his eyes with a smile that expressed just how predictable this was. Never would you play by the rules, no matter how high-stakes the game ahead. And again, you truly were a firm believer in your own opposing theory that pre-match sex could only be beneficial to Englandās star player. It would excellently boost morale, and that was the most crucial quality in this stage of the competition, right?
Without needing to give another plea, you twirled 180 degrees, before strutting over to the smallest corner of the room, past a row of red light therapy beds. Jude followed in tow.
And there you stood by the plush grey couch, admiring it as the most ideal, most comfortable piece of furniture to have a quickie on. It was almost like it had been placed there for that very purpose. The universe knew to give you the idea that you should enter this specific room, because the act really was what Jude needed, even if he might have fought it initially. Now, he was coming round.
"Sit down, handsome," you smiled, guiding him to do so, and even despite another amused eye roll, he did. He sat up against the back of the couch, settled into the furniture with a demeanour that gave away what words didn't need to. He was on your side now.
You giggled as you straddled him, legs bracketing his strong, muscular thighs. "ām gonna ride you, babyā'n I'll be quick, I promise."
"Better be, sweetheart," he murmured, smacking your ass harshly. You yelped, arching your back and taking that as an incentive to begin rocking over his clothed dick. As you did, you watched him raise his right wrist slightly, checking the time on his watch. "Just under ten minutes now, c'mon. If y' need it that badly, y' gonna have to start speedin' up."
You were grinding down harder now, his dick straining through his boxers, your pussy perfectly prepped in its drenched arousal. There would be no time for foreplayāalthough it was true that you pretty much always needed it with Jude.
Wasting no more time, you tugged at his waistband, pulling both layers down just enough to free his achingly hard cock. It stood up with a pop, thick veins running all along from base to tip, precum leaking from the slit and down the underside. You almost physically salivated at the sight, as though a dog in heat had met its human form.
"Can't be starin' too long, baby," Jude smirked, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. You were lost in your own world, always amazed by how lucky you were to have this perfect asset waiting for you every single day.
You chuckled, grinning as you pulled your soaked panties to the side and rubbed the weight of him along your dripping sex. The head of his dick provided the perfect friction, and you spent a few moments too long just gliding it up and down your folds, the anticipation of him filling you almost as satisfying as the fullness itself.
Your eyes were clamped shut, revelling in the feeling, but you had a sharp awakening when you felt Jude's hand suddenly slam down on your asscheek again. He was never intentionally too harsh, but your ass was just too pleasing, too pretty to look at...
"C'mon, princess," he ordered, with a raised brow. "Would've been easier if I'd fucked you against that wall, no?"
"No, baby, shut up, 'm fine, just let meāohhhhh..." Finally, you eased down onto him, hands immediately gripping his shoulders with the impact of his girth stretching your tight walls.
"Aw, that's it..." he both cooed and groaned, hands settling at the curve of your ass to guide your position.
"J, you're soāoh, mmm, God..." You babbled incoherencies while you slowly took every inch, and of course he talked you through it.
"Yeah, that's it, c'mon now, baby... Nearly there..."
"Just a little more... Takin' it so well..."
"Pretty pussy, squeezin' me so tight..."
His words only made you even more insatiable, and as you finally sunk down, his girth nestled perfectly in your heat, you began to bounce. There really was no time to waste, and you hadn't planned on going slow.
"Oh, yes, fuck, that's my girl," Jude moaned beneath you, gripping your hips and your ass so tight that you were certain there'd be bruises if he kept it up.
"Yeah, you love how I bounce on you like this, baby? Feels so good, J..." you whined as you lifted your hips up and down, chasing your peak. You raised your hands to meet your clothed breasts, kneading over the tissue, but wishing the style of fabric had instead allowed for your man's easy access, because his hands on your bare skin was nothing short of heavenly.
The feeling of him filling you up was another slice of heaven, and on his dick you moaned like a whore, rocking back and forth, making figure-eights with your hips.
"So fuckin' tight for me, sweetheart," Jude muttered under his breath, looking up into your ever-fluttering eyes. "Y'so needy, always thinkin' about gettin' fucked..."
You giggled through another whine, placing your hands on his chest now to help with balance as you surrendered your body to him completely. You rode him with force, high-pitched sounds spilling out of your throat with each alteration in movement, and now it was even clearer to you: this was certainly what every player in this World Cup needed to proceed successfully. What could be more galvanising, more energy-inducing, than the inspiring motivation of a woman's sex? You knew Jude would be thinking about this throughout the rest of the dayāyou knew he'd get flashbacks during the gameābut never did that mean a disruptive distraction. Noāyou were essentially his muse, his source of stimulation to drive him to success, that last piece of the puzzle on top of all the hard work he put in. As your pussy squeezed his aching length (for the fourth time in the last twenty-four hours, mind you), you ascended toward climax, riding impossibly faster while the outside world became a blur, nothing existing but the two of you...
"Oh, Jude, 'm gonna cumā" you nearly screamed, rubbing circles over your clit now, desperate to reach your peak. Beneath you, Jude was bucking up his hips with an eagerness mirroring yours, and with it he groaned profanities.
"Yeah, baby, fuckāneed you to cum for me..."
"I'm so close, J, oh, yes..."
The couch, as sturdy as it was, creaked beneath you, and you bounced your ass down onto him as hard as possible, moaning without restraint as Jude grabbed and smacked at the flesh, wet snapping noises echoing throughout the room and surely through the hall. You leaned down to kiss him as you finally came, his tongue swallowing the extent of your lewd sounds, although you'd already made enough of a noise in the last few minutes.
He was so close too, and with a few more thrusts upward into your sweet spot, his orgasm crashed through his sensitive body.
"Shit, I'm gonna cum, ohāthat's it, take it, baby..."
Hot ropes of cum shot up into your womb, filling you wholly as you sighed breathlessly into his neck, collapsing forward.
"J, oh my..."
Jude caught his breath too, blinking rapidly to bring himself back to earth. He'd obviously be fine to play tonight, but would he definitely be fine to resume training with his teammates ināhe checked his watch againājust two minutes time?
"Shit, darlin', you've got me fucked up," he murmured in your ear, and you smiled wide, peppering kisses all over his face. He mirrored your expression, relishing in your facial kisses, but internally cursing the fact that he'd have to pull out in a moment. His cock was softened now, but your wet, cosy heat felt too heavenly enveloping him, and he wished the rest of the day could be called off so that he could spend it with only you and your ethereal body. In that room, so perfectly entwined, it really did feel like you were the only two people inhabiting the earth.
In reality however, you werenāt, and in a moment someone would be reminding you of that. While Jude's mind might have been still half-focused on his responsibilities, neither of you expected what came next.
Suddenly, the door creaked open from the opposite end of the room.
"Oh my Godāfuck," you both cursed in unison.
Luckily, whoever it was couldn't see you both from that entrance, so, in your shock and panic, you each managed to detach, jump up from the couch and rush over to another corner just in time, fixing yourselves to look presentable.
But there was cum on the couch, and more dripping down your thighs. You'd clean the couch once the person had left, but what were you to do about the sticky mess on your legs? Jude was trying not to laugh, and you kept nudging him, needing to get him to shut up.
"Stop it, you idiotāthey'll hear!" you whisper-shouted.
No use, of course; and now the individual was facing you. While earlier you'd praised the universe for granting you the perfect room for sex, you now cursed those same stars for putting you in this horrifying position. Because indeed, the individual facing you was none other than Thomas Tuchel himself.
As he looked you both up and down, you literally almost fainted and threw up at once. The two of you weren't indecent, thankfully, but it was incredibly obvious what you'd been doing. The flustered look on your faces told of that alone. Jude wasn't laughing anymore.
"Had a nice time?" he asked, with a sincerely raised brow.
You both stuttered, and in the awkwardness you decided it had to be Jude to deal with it, because you weren't the one on personal terms with the England manager. Quickly, you rushed into the bathroom just behind you, knowing that no action you made could be more embarrassing than what had just happened, and in there you leaned against the door, clamping your eyes shut in embarrassment.
After a few moments to collect yourself, you then cleaned Jude's cum from your legs, fixed up your hair and your dress, and once player and manager had left the recovery room together, you finally stepped out.
Attending England's training sessions would go on to feel a lot different from then on, and you only hoped that your reckless morning wouldn't make it past those four walls and into a headline.
little drabble for my man on the podiummm!!! iām so proud of himmm so hereās a lil gift š
your cheeks hurt from smiling. and the cold but that was the least of your worries.
204 podiums. he wrote history today, as he always seems to do the second that engine switches on.
the podium celebrations were perfection. you and your mother in law were ushered to the very front, watching as his car parked in front of you and his team from his side of the garage. he got weighed, tied his braids in a bun, took a sip of water and his eyes immediately connected with yours, causing the butterflies in your stomach to start fluttering all over the place. you knew that look in his eyes, giving you goosebumps.
he came over, excitedly hugging his mom and team before stopping in front of you, his large hand holding the side of your neck as he kissed your glossy lips for a moment before kissing your cheek and leaving lipgloss on it. lewis then hugged you which gave you the opportunity to kiss his cheek, leaving a much brighter lip stain in the middle of his cheek. he smiled at you cheekily and moved on, being rushed to the interviews.
during dinner with your mother in law and a few friends that were in canada, you scrolled on the socials for a bit after having half of your meal and with lewisās hand heavy on your thigh. you chuckled at each fanās tweet, their reactions to the very visible lipgloss mark and him basically flaunting it on camera for the world to see.
āif it wasnāt for the shower i took at the hotel, itād absolutely still be on my cheek, love.ā he smiled at you after showing him the tweets, the crinkles around his eye much deeper for you.
of course you blushed at his words, it was very easy for you to be wooed by your husband. āyouāre corny as hell for that one.ā you scoffed, failing to hide your smile as your cheeks burned. he squeezed your thigh in response to your words, and you just knew you were in for it when you got to the hotel.
ā
āwhy you running, baby? aināt this what you wanted?ā he spoke lowly, gripping your leg that was currently over his shoulder and you were seeing stars as you clung to the bed sheets.
you see, you decided to plan something nice for lewis for whether he did good in the race or not. the lingerie set was absolutely stunning on your skin, the black and light pink accents really made your skin stand out. your tits sat perfectly and your ass poked out that it swallowed your underwear completely. you looked fine as fuck and you knew lewis was gonna get a podium in canada.
he made sure of it tonight.
āyou feel so good, baby. saved thisā¦ā he teasingly picked up the bra that he basically tore off you, discarded next to your head where your braids made a halo. āall this for me. thatās it, y/n. give it to me.ā he grunted, his thrusts remaining steady despite him knowing that his orgasm could rip through any moment.
āall for you, baby. ohhā¦fuckā¦ā you panted, your fingers barely playing with your nipples as you were overcome with pleasure. you wanted to give him everything you got and he definitely understood you. āshit, baby. you love the way i make you feel? hm? tell me, sweetie.ā he muttered but you heard him loud and clear despite the noise of skin slapping together.
āi love it so much, lew. i love you so much. please, pleaseā¦i need to-ā
āi know what you need. cāmere, baby. let go for fāme.ā he murmured against your calf, kissing at it while digging his hands into your hips this time. āgive it to me. thatās it, mamaā¦.cāmon.ā lewis praised, letting you down slowly and immediately feeling you tremble in his arms while his thrust became slightly sloppy.
you pulled him down gently by his diamond chain and your finger was hooked onto it. sloppily kissing your husband and sucking on his tongue while orgasming was one of your favourite things to do and lewis knows that. as he released his thick load into you, he slowed his movements down but he never slid out. āfuck, i love you.ā he said, lips brushing against your neck as he tried to catch his breath.
āi love you too. my living legend.ā you smiled, cradling his cheek as he lifted his head to look you in the eye. that nickname you just gave him made him shiver and his dick slowly hardened inside you again.
without warning, he flipped you over and adjusted your body so that you could be comfortable while straddling his hips and him filling you up, your combined juices a visible sign of love where you connected.
he grabbed a handful of your ass, causing you to grind on him to let out a moan and he knew how sensitive you were.
with a stupid grin on his face, he spoke with one arm behind his head. āshow me what you got, baby.ā
āā
this happened on a whim lmfaoooo!! one of his sexiest drives ever so this just had to be written down šš hope you guys enjoyed š
this is a post i never thought iād ever make on tumblr but alas, this is what it has come to.
iām officially quitting tumblr.
this is not because of lewis, or i found a new outlet or whatever. i am not doing well mentally and i am not contributing anything creatively and i havenāt been for the past few months. i let stupid things get to me and it constantly restricts me from creating and sharing with you guys. i knew that iāve always wanted to share fondness with people and i am beyond grateful for the lovely people that i have met throughout this journey. you guys have pushed me through things that i never thought i could come out of.
another reason is that i absolutely hate disappointing people and trust, all iāve done is disappoint you guys by constantly promising things and never delivering which makes the lack of confidence and lack of audience make sense. i keep putting out great ideas but i get instantly demotivated by idiotic things and sometimes, people.
iām sitting here crying my eyes out because i donāt want to do this but for my sanity, i have to. i love you guys and the community weāve created over the years. i still absolutely love lewis hamilton and thatāll never change. thank you for accepting me, thank you for being there for me and thank you for being you. i hope you guys are happy wherever you are in this big blue world.
i want to leave something behind before i leave and iāll be finishing renaissance but i canāt necessarily tell you when, typical saint style lmfao. i wonāt be deleting this page or anything on it, thatād be rude as hell.
remember, this isnāt a full goodbye. itās a see you later ā¤ļø
oh my love, iām so sorry to hear that youāre leaving but i completely understand why. thank you for all the beautiful works youāve posted because i know how much of yourself and how much work you put in to create such intricate stories and iām so glad we met on here and made a connection (over a certain man)
thank you for being my sister wife and thank you for everything. take care of yourself my heart ā¤ļø, i love you down saint
I absolutely HATEEEE when iām reading something on tumblr and i barely leave the app for a few mins and i come back AND TUMBLR REFRESHES THE DAMN PAGE
tangentwithtanner
germansingergirl
andulkaphoto
amandla
