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nereidprinc3ss · 25 days

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do you believe me now? | 2

in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem

part one | part three

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')

When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were.

When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you.

It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive.

But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later.

Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.

“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost.

“Not hungry.”

You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go.

“Alright... well, I was thinking—“

“Why haven’t we had sex?”

The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question.

“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”

Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you.

“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”

God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet.

“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”

“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong.

He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours.

“You know that’s not how I feel.”

You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms.

“No. No, I don’t know that.”

Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close.

“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”

You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.

“So why won’t you prove it?”

It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”

He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want.

So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel.

“And how do you think I should prove it?”

“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart.

“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”

“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”

Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”

“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you.

He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you.

When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure.

“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”

“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger.

An incredulous smile narrows his eyes.

“Is this a pinky-promise?”

“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies.

“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”

You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch.

The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.

It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.

“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes.

“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”

It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”

This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way.

“Spencer…”

“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”

The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak.

“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”

Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear.

“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”

“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”

“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”

Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you.

“What if you don’t like how I look?”

Spencer doesn’t even blink.

“That’s not going to happen.”

How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to.

“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”

“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”

As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him.

“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”

His eyebrows raise.

“You’re not.”

“But what if I am?”

“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”

“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”

A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important.

“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra.

“Thank you.”

You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him.

“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”

“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”

The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked.

“So… no breakup?”

It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands.

“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”

“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“Not right now,” he agrees.

His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.

After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides.

“Sit down.”

It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown.

“Without you?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”

You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range.

“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

You expel a frustrated huff.

“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”

He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight.

“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”

“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”

“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles.

How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing.

“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs.

“I’m working on it.”

“It doesn’t look like it.”

“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”

Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought.

“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”

“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning.

“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”

You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you.

“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”

Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together.

“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”

“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles.

“You don’t like being teased, huh?”

“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage.

“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”

You push your fingers into his soft hair.

“I know.”

It was a lucky guess.

He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you.

“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”

“What if I…”

You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you.

“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”

“Love is a pretty strong word.”

“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”

The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this?

“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”

As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself.

“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches.

“Mhm.”

“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”

His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply.

“No.”

Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”

Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone.

“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck.

“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”

“Really? How?”

Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him.

“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”

“It is on you,” you huff.

You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again.

“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”

A stammering nod.

He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.

“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”

“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze.

“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”

Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction.

“Yes please.”

“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”

Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him.

“Okay.”

Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions.

Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core.

You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry.

Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious.

This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”

Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest.

He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him.

Thankfully, he delivers.

The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl.

There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you.

So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds.

“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”

The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second.

“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh.

“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”

“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer.

“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”

Well, shit.

He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair.

“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light.

“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”

Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous.

The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning.

Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan.

Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it.

Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection.

Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”

“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”

“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”

You whine.

“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”

Spencer doesn’t miss a beat.

“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”

Something flickers in your core.

Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first.

“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”

That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen.

“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.

“I would love to.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut

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toruro · 5 months

Text

— ✧ back to december

a part of flower me with love ... an hhu unit x flowers collection !

genre: smut (18+ / mdni), fluff, angst (resolved!), best friends to strangers to lovers

description: it's been four months and twenty-two days since you've last talked to mingyu, however your mother still thinks you two are friends. you don't have the heart to tell her what really happened, and now you think it's time for you to move on. (un?)fortunately for you though, mingyu seems to have other plans.

inspired by back to december by taylor swift!

tags: miscommunication, unrequited love (not fr though), big dick mingyu, sex in a car >_<, riding, fingering, pet names (angel, pretty), creampie :3

w/c: 4.3k

a/n: happy birthday @gyuswhore!!! this fic is for em but if not em and ur reading it i hope u enjoy too. this is like 2/3 plot and 1/3 smut if anyone cares

Normality is bliss.

That’s what you used to tell yourself. That’s what you used to believe.

Normality was bright mornings, crisp air, slow walking down the main street, inhaling the ambrosial scent of freshly roasted coffee beans, and slipping under the fairy lights that hang over the door. It was the warm sound of the overhead bell ringing, permeating laughter in the cafe from all customers, and daisies in a pot by the entrance.

Normality was Mingyu. His bright laugh as you approach the counter, sweet voice as he playfully asks you what drink you’d like, to which you roll your eyes and respond with, “You already know, don’t you?” It was the chuckle he would let out, the wink he flashed at you, murmuring the words, “It’s on the house” (because with Mingyu, it was always on the house), the thanks you give him before stepping back.

Normality was the latte he handed you, rough yet ginger fingers brushing over your palm as he warned you, “Careful, it’s hot,” and the giggle you let out when you stepped back and asked how his morning was going. It was Mingyu telling you nothing special happened yet. It was Mingyu suggesting that you two hang out at the field after he’s done with work. It was you grinning and agreeing in an instant, but only under the condition that he picks you up after your class.

Normality was bliss until four months and twenty-two days ago.

Now, normality hurts like a bitch.

Your mother glances at you from the corner of her vision as you rummage through the fridge. “What’re you looking for?”

“Some bread,” you murmur. “Was really craving a tomato sandwich … Damn, we’re seriously out of white bread?” you ask, giving up with a sigh as you close the door and face her.

She shrugs. “If it’s not in the fridge then I guess so. We’re low on produce too actually … I’d be surprised if you find tomatoes in there too,” she says. You purse your lip, shuffling through the different rows of cabinets to find something to throw together to take for lunch as your mother continues to speak. “You think you could stop by the grocery store after class today and pick up some stuff?”

“Yeah sure,” you reply casually.

“Ah, I wish Mingyu still stopped by with the groceries,” your mother says, and the sudden mention of his name has you halting your movements as you reach for a croissant, before you inhale deeply and go back to doing your own thing.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, clearing your throat after the word comes out horsley.

“You know why he stopped doing that?”

You try not to think about how you still haven’t told your mother that you and Mingyu don’t talk anymore.

“Uhh, I guess uni’s been getting to be a lot of work,” you tell her. “We’re both taking way harder classes so, uh, I guess he doesn’t have the time.”

“Hmm, yeah makes sense. You’re always swamped up in that room of yours ‘cause of work too … haven’t seen you two hang out in a while actually.”

You chew on your lip, staring down at your little bag for lunch and the croissant that sits inside. You wonder if you’ll even have the appetite to eat anything today after this conversation.

“We’re just busy. It’s harder to talk now.” It’s not entirely a lie. Grabbing the bag and picking up your backpack, you turn to face your mother who’s scrolling on her phone. “I’m gonna go now. My first class is starting soon.”

Now, normality is huffing as you get into your car, wishing you had a coffee next to you, but being too full of cowardice to head over to the cafe.

(“Go to a different cafe!” is what common sense would tell you, but common sense doesn’t listen to a love that has been betrayed. No other latte tastes the same, but you know that’s only because no other latte has been made by Mingyu.)

You pick up groceries on the way home.

Now, normality is staring at the daisies that are on display as you walk through the front doors of the store and reminiscing. It’s wondering what once was, and what could have been, if you decided to keep your silly feelings to yourself.

Normality is regretting. Regretting ever opening your mouth and telling Mingyu four months and twenty-two days ago that you loved him, and that you had loved him for not one, not two, not five, but ten damn years, because that was when you two met, and you always loved Kim Mingyu, but you should have known that not once did he love you back. Not how you would’ve wanted anyways.

Normality is wondering. Wondering if Mingyu would still be dropping off groceries if you hadn’t told him that you loved him, if he hadn’t told you he didn’t know what to tell you. Wondering if he thinks of you now. Wondering if he has any regrets. Wondering if he’s okay, but you lost the chance to know the answer to that question four months and twenty-two days ago. Wondering if—

Tomatoes. You need to buy the tomatoes, and the bread, some green beans, spinach, bell pepper, and more cheese, milk, maybe some butter, and—what was it that your mother told you to get? Oh, some strawberries.

You need to get all of these things, but there were no daisies on the list, so how did a bouquet full of them end up in your cart? You tell yourself you picked them up because they’re on sale, but you know the real reason is because you miss Mingyu.

Directing your attention back to the list you were sent on your phone, you hum lowly to yourself as you push your cart through the aisles. Checking items off your notes app, you exist with just yourself, your tomatoes, and fresh daisies as you try and finish these groceries before it gets too late into the evening.

Staring at your screen, you almost don’t notice that the dairy aisle isn’t empty until you bump into someone. “Sorry,” you mutter quickly, “I—” The words get caught in your throat when you see just exactly who you’ve hit.

Averting your gaze quickly, you wonder if Mingyu will respond, but you choose to scurry away quickly instead, because as cowardly as it sounds, you’re not sure if you’re ready to hear his voice again.

You’re not sure why your heart beats so fast when you escape into another aisle. Maybe it’s because you couldn’t read the look on his face for the brief second that your eyes met.

(Ten years of being best friends and you somehow don’t know what he’s thinking. Can four months and twenty-two days really change a person that much? Or did you never know Kim Mingyu in the first place?)

When you get home, your mother asks you where you got the daisies from. You tell her Mingyu gave them to you, because you want to convince her that you two are still best friends, and maybe—just maybe—you’re trying to convince yourself of it too.

You decide to buy a latte five days later. Mingyu never worked the evening shifts, so you’re confident you’ll get one of the other’s as the barista if you walk in past 6pm. Seokmin’s always nice. He doesn’t make the latte’s as sweet as you like—more specifically, as sweet as Mingyu made them—but he’s kind and always cheery.

When you walk in today, the pot by the door is empty. There are no more daisies, and you wonder if this is what has become of normality.

Your eyes glaze over the familiar setting, breathing in the sweet, rusty smell of coffee, and you smile watching all the cafe-goers laugh along with each other in their seats. All is going well, and you’re telling yourself that maybe this new normal isn’t too bad. That you’ve lived with it for four months and twenty-seven days, and so you can live with it longer and—

Your heart plummets when you see who's working the register today.

Maybe you really never knew Kim Mingyu, because you swore he hated the evening shifts, but here he is with a neatly tied apron, smiling while he talks to some girl across the counter. And his toothy grin is so bright and you aren’t sure if you’re seeing things correctly because everything sound has turned to a white rush in your ears and your vision blurs because you are once again awarded the painful reminder that you are in love with Kim Mingyu.

You thought your heart broke right in two back in December, but you hear it crack in this moment and realize that this was the final blow.

There are tears in your eyes, and you don’t know how long you stand there, until you hear your name. Seokmin is calling for you, and when you look up there’s no girl at the counter and it’s just Mingyu and Seokmin staring at you.

And you wonder briefly if you should be glad that Mingyu looks concerned but you don’t have time to dwell on the fact because Seokmin calls for you again—“Hey, are you okay? You—you’re crying”—and fuck, you’ve just humiliated yourself, so with fat tears hitting the dark wood ground you turn on your heel and rush out the door.

You keep thinking and wondering and regretting and you hate it all because regret has become normality, but regret is not a bliss.

You walk down the street, and you keep walking and walking and walking until you realize you forgot where you parked the car but none of that matters because all you’re thinking about is Mingyu’s smile, and how he doesn’t smile at you anymore. And so you walk faster and cry a bit harder until you’re so far down the street you don’t even know where you are anymore but it doesn’t matter because you don’t know who you’ve become.

And there’s footsteps thudding behind you—are you going to get kidnapped now? Fuck, you’ve already had the most horrendous sequence of events that could possibly happen to you in the span of five minutes, and now it’s going to get worse? If this goddamn kidnapper could just target you any other day, then maybe you wouldn’t whip around with tearful eyes, shouting into the dark: “Please don’t kidnap me! I’ll go with you any other day but—Mingyu!?”

His tall figure is hunched over, hands over his thighs as he heaves for breath, craning his neck to look up at you. “Kidnap you? Why in the world would I kidnap you?” he asks through harsh breaths. “Fuck, you walk so fast,” he groans, finally standing up as you furiously wipe your tears away in an attempt to actually make sense of this situation.

“I—” You want to reply, but then it hits you that this is the first time Mingyu has spoken to you in four months and twenty-seven days, and the thought is dizzying. “I don’t know,” you tell him, because you really don’t know. You don’t know a damn thing.

Mingyu looks at you with a look that you, once again, can’t seem to read. “Sorry, I—I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, and anyone would be able to see through the lie but you’re hoping that Mingyu doesn’t pry any further. He doesn’t move, nor does he say anything. “You can, uh, go back now,” you add, rubbing the back of your neck as you stare at the ground. “I’m okay.”

“You—you were crying.”

Opening your mouth to protest, you realize you can’t refute him now. Not when it was so painfully obvious. You choose silence instead, hoping that your apprehension will be enough to drive him away, although it only seems to egg Mingyu on.

You don’t expect the words he blurts out after a few moments of thickness.

“You don’t know how much I wish I could go back to December and change things.”

“Please don’t lie to me Mingyu,” you tell him, and he can just hear from the way you say his name that you are desperately pleading with him. When you finally look up at him with glossy eyes, he wonders how in the world he let things get this far.

“I’m not lying, I—I wouldn’t lie about this.”

“What do you mean by this, Mingyu? What is this?” You cover your face and begin to sob, but not without gasping out words between heavy breaths. “Please don’t do this to me, not again.”

And when you uncover your face and look at him again, he’s got some bewildered look on his face, and you can’t tell what he’s going to say next.

“The girl,” Mingyu starts to say. “That’s my cousin. She was visiting me at work and—”

“It’s not about the girl, Mingyu!” And that’s a bit of a lie because some part of it is about the girl but it’s mainly about you and it’s mainly about Mingyu—mainly about the two of you.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and speaks. “Sorry, I—you’re right.”

Silence once more, before you calm your breaths and shake your head. “You should head back, Mingyu.”

“No I—wait, I just—I’m not lying. I regret everything I did in December.”

“Ming—”

“No, please listen to me. I regret not telling you how I actually felt, but I was so confused,” he tells you, repeating your name. “I was confused and fucking terrified because if things didn’t work out for some reason, then I would’ve lost my best friend but—but I was fucking stupid and lost you anyways. And you know, I wanted to reach out. I wanted to talk to you so bad but then like last week, when I saw you in the grocery store, and—daisies.”

“Daisies?” You furrow your brows.

“Daisies. You had a bouquet of them in your cart,” Mingyu tells you, taking a step forward. “And I know how much you love daisies. Your favorite flowers in the world. I saw them in your cart and thought to myself, fuck, I missed my chance, because I thought you had them for someone else and—”

“They weren’t,” you blurt out. “I-I even told my mom you got me them,” you add bashfully, “because she doesn’t know we stopped … yeah.”

There’s a silence that sits between you two, but you’re starting to realize that silence has become normality and you are no longer content with that.

“Mingyu, do you love me?”

He doesn’t hesitate to respond. “More than you love daisies.”

You laugh through your drying tears. You laugh so hard it makes you cry no longer because of pain but because of happiness, and you shake your head and throw your arms around him. “Kim Mingyu, that is a bold statement.”

“What can I say?” he grins. “I’m a bold man.”

“Where was that bold man for the past four months and twenty-seven days?” you snort.

Mingyu raises a brow. “You’ve been counting?” For a moment your expression falls but then he shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t worry—I’ve been too.”

You two are quick to head back, Mingyu begging Seokmin to hold the first alone for the weekend before taking the wheel of your car and driving you both to your favorite field of daisies.

“Are we going to have sex for the first time in your car?” Mingyu asks with a chuckle, climbing into the backseat from one end while you pile in from the other.

Giggling, you meet his lips for a kiss as soon as the door shuts behind him, arms winding around his thick neck to bring him close. “The way you said that insinuates there we’ll be having more sex after this,” you tell him with a smile before diving back into another tongue twisting kiss.

“Hell yeah,” Mingyu groans against your tongue as you adjust to situate yourself over his lap, hips pressing dangerously close to his. “Gonna fuck you every day if I can. If you can handle that,” he adds.

You roll your eyes, pulling back to help yourself out of the cardigan and shirt you’re wearing. “What makes you think I can’t handle it?”

He only flashes you a toothy grin and quickly glances down at his groin area before winking at you. “You’ll see.”

“Kim Mingyu, you are a little shit,” you conclude despite the way your tummy churns at his insinuation, throwing off your shirt as Mingyu helps you out of a bra.

“I’m not little, that’s for sure … fuck, you’ve got the prettiest tits in the world,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your torso to pull you closer so he can plant his lips on the soft flesh. His mouth is warm, tongue tracing constellations over our skin before enclosing one of your nipples with his lips.

Slowly, his tongue traces circles around the stiffened nipple, teeth grazing over it ever so gently before biting down with slight force. “Ah!” you moan out, head thrown back as your hands travel up his neck and into his hair, fisting the thick, dark locks. “‘m sensitive, ‘gyu,” you tell him, shaky-breathed as he pulls his mouth off your tits with a slip popping sound.

“Sorry,” he says with a lazy smile. “Your tits are so nice,” Mingyu murmurs, bringing a hand up to squeeze over your other breast, tweaking the nipple in one hand as your hands begin to play with the hem of his tight fit shirt. “Fuck, can’t believe we didn’t fuck earlier. You know how much time we could’ve saved?” he says, pulling away just for a moment to peel the shirt off his body, revealing his firm, thick torso.

“I wonder whose fault that is?” You roll your eyes.

Mingyu frowns in response. “Don’t remind me … angel, take off your pants. Wanna finger you.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice, because in an instant your hands are at the waistband of your pants as heat rises to your cheeks upon hearing his words. Just the thought of Mingyu’s thick, longer fingers inside your aching cunt is enough for it to pulse around nothing as you throw your pants to the side and shove your panties to reveal your core.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs under his breath as you readjust yourself over his lap so that he can have better access between your legs. Slowly, he brings one hand up to your exposed cunt, bringing his middle finger to circle around your gaping hole. “Shit, you’re so wet, angel … so wet for me.”

“Just for you ‘gyu, just for you” you gasp out when he sinks one finger in, rough pads rubbing against your warm, gummy walls.

Now Mingyu occasionally entertains the outrageous idea that he’s well composed, but he’d be a fool to deny that, even though he can turn you to mush in the palm of his hand, you also have him wrapped around your little finger.

You only have to beg him once or twice for a second finger before he’s giving in, wanting nothing more than to spoil you until you can’t even remember what you were asking for in the first place. And naturally, when you finally tell him that you’re ready for more—ready for his cock—he can’t help but grin and comply.

“You think you’re ready?” he asks, slipping his fingers out and shoving them into your mouth so you can taste yourself.

“You think I’m not?” you mumble around his fingers. You pout a little and Mingyu chuckles, leaning in to give you a wet and sloppy kiss before lifting his hips a little.

“You’ll see angel … help me take this all off,” he tells you, and you’re quick to grab at his waistband and yank his pants and boxers down at the same time.

“What are you talking ab—oh.” The words dry on your tongue when you see his cock spring out, from underneath his boxers, the thickness slapping against Mingyu’s abdomen.

It’s fat and long and veiny in all the right places, heavy balls resting at the base of it, the reddish-pink tip smeared all over with his shiny, translucent white precum.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says with yet another chuckle, watching your face as you gaze down at his cock in awe.

“I-is it gonna fit?” you ask incredulously, eyes glancing back and forth between the smirk on Mingyu’s lips and the long length of his cock. Mingyu just shrugs and smooths his hands over your hips, your stomach, and then your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss.

Your stomach flutters, cunt growing more and more needy and wet as the seconds tick by, and the way Mingyu’s tongue flicks against yours only heightens the feeling. When he pulls away, he settles his hands over your waist and directs you right over his cock, and something in you swells with pure arousal with the next words he says.

“Don’t worry angel, I’ll make it fit. You trust me?”

“Yeah,” you breath out, steadying your position as Mingyu uses one hand to guide his heavy length so that the tip points upwards and presses right against you.

“Fuck yeah,” he hisses, and you moan as you feel him sliding against your folds in a slippery, sticky mess. “old onto me, yeah angel? If you want to stop just—”

“Say the word,” you finish for him, placing your hands on Mingyu’s bare shoulders as an attempt to steady yourself, breath hitching as his length pushes into your entrance. “Oh shit, ‘gyu!" you cry out as you begin to sink down on him.

Tears pricking at the corners of your eyes—you can’t even fathom how, even after all his prep, Mingyu still feels like he’s nearly splitting you in half.

“Fuck, pretty—you’re so fucking tight,” Mingyu grunts, helping you nearly impale yourself on his cock. “Fucking fitting inside you so well,” he praises as he bottoms out inside of you, letting your forehead fall to his shoulder as you take deep breath.

Mingyu knows he’s big—knows it’s hard to fit him inside of you—and he’s feels so fucking lucky that he has you—so willing to take all that he’s giving—sucking him in and whining for more. He waits a few moments, only listening to the way your heavy breaths start to grow lighter, until you’re whimpering a soft, “‘gyu.”

He wastes no time in jerking his hips upward, shifting inside of you and battering the inside of your soft walls. You bite down on his shoulder as you push your hips down to meet his thrusts, choking back soft sobs as you feel his cock kiss your cervix with each movement.

“Holy shit,” Mingyu grunts as you begin to bounce on his lap, his length slipping out of you halfway before being plunged right back in with a sopping mess growing on his thighs.

You whine loudly at the overwhelming pleasure that takes over your body, lifting your head up so you could look at Mingyu with your mouth agape and hair stuck all over your burning face, a sheer layer of sweat starting to envelope both your bodies.

Soon, both of your movements begin to grow erratic and sloppy, hips jamming into each other so hard you’d be surprised if you even have the ability to walk tomorrow. You now know why Mingyu was concerned about fucking every day.

“You g’na cum soon pretty? Cum all over my cock? I can feel it angel, can feel your pretty cunt squeezing me.”

“Fuck, Mingyu,” you manage to gasp out, “Yeah, ’m gonna cum—feels so good, so full, so—fuck!”

Mingyu’s cock pulses inside of you and that’s when every detail seems to be heightened to a thousand—as your orgasm racks through you, you seem to feel every curve, every vein, dragging in and out of you to such detail that it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you scream out his name.

Mingyu watches you fall apart, surrendering to bliss, and the way your hips are sporadically swiveling over his, your pussy’s wetness coating and creaming his cock has him going into a frenzy. Frantically, he begins to snap his hips faster up into you, your soft moans of overstimulation pushing him to his end faster than he can ever imagine. Watching the way he slides in and out of you is enough to have him cumming, shooting his hot, sticky load inside your warm cunt.

Riding out the last of his orgasm with soft rolls of his hips, Mingyu sighs contently at the feeling of you milking him dry, the both of you looking down at the wet, dirty mess you’ve made where the two of you connect, his cock still throbbing inside of you.

Both of you finally look up at the same time, grinning at each other, and you flop forward resting your head on his chest as he slowly combs his fingers through your hair, other hand running up and down your back.

“Why’d you start working the evening shifts?” you ask Mingyu after your breath has finally leveled. “I thought you hated those.”

“I did, but you stopped coming in the mornings, and I figured it was because of me. I hoped that maybe you would start coming in the evenings so I asked my boss to change my regular shifts just in case.”

“Oh wow, you really do love me.”

“I already told you I do! Even more than you love daisies, remember?”

#svt smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #svt fluff #svt angst #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu smut #kim mingyu fluff #kim mingyu angst #📝 writing

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murdrdocs · 6 months

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I've been thinking non stop about Mike liking Abby's new daycare teacher but is too shy to do anything so Abby just casually mentions that her big brother has a crush on you and is doing weird things like checking his hair and only wearing the same pants two days in a row instead of four. So when u spill that Abby told u he doesn't know whether to be mad at her or not bc if ur wasn't for her he would have a date

I LOVEE THESE TYPES OF THINGS GN! READER

you’re sweet, patient, professional while managing to slip in some casualness to the conversations that you and mike have (short and cordial always) that make him feel like you’re more of an acquaintance and not just someone he indirectly pays.

you’re young, around his age he assumes, and he confirms his assumptions when he’s questioning abby.

“your, uh, new teacher,” he starts as he’s finishing up dinner (spaghetti again).

abby hums from behind him. “what about them?” mike turns to glance at his sister who sits on the counter, her feet thudding against the cheap cabinets with the way she kicks them.

he turns back to the stove, shrugging and scratching at his ear. “nothing i was just wondering about them. like … are they … cool?”

and mike is so glad that abby has always been the more talkative one out of the two of them because she’s immediately thrusting herself into an analysis of your quirks and how you really care about the children.

long story short, abby likes you just as much as mike does. even more, actually.

she’s always running to hug you when mike drops her off and picks her up, and he distantly wishes he could do the same. he thinks he’s playing it cool, sending you tight lipped smiles and waves that are a little too disjointed.

but abby is more perceptive than he thinks.

each time he tells himself he’s going to have an actual conversation with you. maybe mention the band tee you wear on a casual friday or ask about the song you were humming before he’d arrived. there’s intentions for him to get to know you and eventually ask you out.

but he backs out each time.

leaving abby to play matchmaker.

when mike comes in one thursday afternoon, hoodie soaked from the thunderstorm outside, he greets you and notices that your smile is a little more bashful than usual. abby is running around with her friends inside, playing an intense game of indoor freeze tag, and mike is trying to get her attention but you stop him.

“they can play for a while longer. i couldn’t let both of you go out in that storm.”

he looks out the window and notices that somehow, it’d gotten stronger.

“uh, do you want something hot to drink? hot chocolate? tea? coffee?” you sound shy, maybe, but mike can't figure out why.

he's just grateful for a chance to spend time alone with you.

“coffee would be great, actually.”

you and mike end up in the kitchen of the small cafeteria, each drinking your respective drinks in silence, until you speak.

“um, i hope i’m not overstepping.” mikes ears perk up because that’s never a good start. “but abby told me that you have a crush on me. is that true?”

fucking abby.

his ears redden immediately, head dropping as he considers how to play this. but before he can even decide, you’re speaking again.

“because if so, i just want to let you know that i feel the same.”

he lifts his head too quick, a little bit of his coffee spilling out of the loaned mug with the movement. he doesn’t care about that, though, at least not immediately. instead, he focuses on you. he searches your face for a joking smile, maybe a little bit of mischief in your eyes. but there’s nothing but honesty in them.

he takes the plunge.

“would you wanna do something … sometime?” not very descriptive but you smile at him anyway.

“i would love to.”

god bless abby.

#he’s so cutesy #mschmidtsworld!#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt #fnaf movie

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anton-luvr · 7 months

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Heyy could u do a fic where boyfriend!Anton makes out with fem!reader for the first time and is really shy but likes it and doesn’t want to stop, like really sweet and a little suggestive 🥹💖Tyy

# FOREVER.

𖦹 bf!anton x fem!reader | fluff & suggestive | college au 𖦹 note ; THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA ARGHH thank u anon i hope u like this + reqs are open!

You love being close to Anton.

You love how soft his hands feel in yours; you love the way his eyes sparkle when he looks at you; and you love how gently he kisses your forehead each time he says goodbye.

The evening had started out as usual: going back to your place after classes, Japanese takeaway for dinner, and an episode of your favorite sitcom, The Office.

But you could tell something was on Anton’s mind tonight. He seemed nervous, and he kept spacing out.

“Is everything okay?” You asked softly, concern evident in your tone. Anton immediately nods, flashing you a shy smile. “Yeah, just thinking about something," he mumbles.

You raise an eyebrow.

“Do you wanna talk about it? You can tell me anything.”

He bites his bottom lip nervously at this, glancing hesitantly at you.

“Anything?” he echoed.

"Anything." you repeated, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

The curly haired boy lets out a sigh, burying his face in his hands and groaning a small, “This is so embarrassing.”

“But you won’t laugh at me, right?” He asks. You chuckle at this, shrugging. “I’ll try my best.”

Anton nods, slowly scooting closer to you on the bed. “So. I was wondering if we could... m-make out?”

Now, you love your boyfriend, but the moment you heard his question, you couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Hey, you said you wouldn’t laugh!” he splutters, his face burning a crimson red.

“I’m sorry!” You gasped, still laughing.

“I just wanted to ask because I’ve never done it before, but I also want to kiss you, but then again I didn’t know how to bring it up, and I-”

“Sure,” you giggled, cutting his rambling off and softly pushing him down on the bed.

“We can definitely make out.”

Anton’s heart was already racing a mile a minute, but the moment your lips connect, he feels like his heart could jump right out of his chest.

His eyes fall shut, and all he can feel is how right and how good it feels.

Your soft vanilla-flavoured lips against his, a shudder running through his body when you slip your tongue against his.

“Is that okay?” you whisper, slightly breathless. Anton nods readily, biting his tongue to hold back a whimper.

“Y-Yeah, keep going." he stutters.

He groans when your lips meet his again, his hands now under your shirt and caressing your waist.

Like puzzle pieces, your lips fit against each other perfectly.

Your bedroom fills with the sound of soft and airy moans, and Anton wonders why he waited so long to do this with you.

When you finally pull away from each other, you wish you could take a picture of how gorgeous your boyfriend looked.

His black unruly hair messy from your hands running through them, his lips swollen as he catches his breath, and his cheeks dusted a light pink.

“God, you look so pretty." you sigh.

He shakes his head as he tries to pull you back. “Don’t care, I wanna keep kissing you.” he mutters, drunk on the feeling.

You place your hand against his chest, stopping him. “If we keep kissing, you’re going to end up home by midnight.” you chuckle.

To your surprise, Anton tugs at you again. “Really don’t care,” he mumbles against your lips. “Wanna kiss you forever, s'feel too good.”

Your heart flutters at his words, smiling into the kiss.

“I’ll kiss you forever."

#anton-luvr asks!#kpop fics #kpop fluff #riize #riize anton #riize fics #riize fluff #riize smut #kpop #anton riize #riize eunseok #riize icons #riize moodboard #riize seunghan #riize wonbin #riize shotaro #riize sungchan

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qingxin-dream · 7 months

Note

Scara relaxing on the couch with you<3 if u do NSFW having him cockwarm you so he can relax

“𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐭 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬, 𝐈𝐭 𝐏𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬”

summary | today was one of those days where nothing could go right. well, maybe, it’s been like that for awhile. and you know damn well that your loving husband was not about to watch you fall into despair. (art credits: unknown)

warnings | not proofread, reader has a mental breakdown, comfort, profanity, smut [18+, MDNI], female-bodied reader, cockwarming, edging/teasing, orgasm denial, slightly possessive/dominant, marking, breeding kink, creampie

genre | modern au, comfort, smut

word count | 3k

pairing | husband! scaramouche x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The sky had been overcast all day, only putting a damper on your mood. Work has somehow become extra stressful lately with more and more responsibilities piling up. You felt the crushing weight on your shoulders with each passing hour and you couldn’t wait for the clock to hit 5pm.

The last place you wanted to be was at work, away from home, and without your husband, Scaramouche. Even then, your relationship was getting to a point where it was nothing more than bitter roommates. He had missions to complete while you were obligated to work every day. Someone had to be the breadwinner, after all.

Sweet freedom washes over your exhausted body when it’s finally time to go home. You rush outside only to find that the clouds had turned a nasty gray color and wet droplets of rain dotted your suit jacket.

Great, you forgot an umbrella.

The rain was really picking up now, your clothes soaked and your hair flattening into drenched clumps. Running through the downpour, you had to make it another block to your car until you got stopped at an intersection—narrowly avoiding the wave of water a speeding car almost splashed onto you.

Once you practically leaped into your car for safety, the sense of stillness that suddenly permeated the air brought you back down to earth. You were more than overworked. You were burned out, with hot tears freely streaming down your face in a choked sob. Gripping the steering wheel, you slumped your forehead onto your knuckles, shoulders shaking as you cried out all the pressure you had bottled up inside. The rain beat against the windshield, drowning out your agony.

Once you managed to compose yourself with a few sad sniffles here and there, you turned the key in the ignition. Tonight you decided to forget about everything. No stress. No work. Not even a single load of laundry. You couldn’t muster the strength for anything other than some sort of self-care or self-indulgence.

When you walked through the door with an expression bordering on despair, Scaramouche knew you had a rough day. He frowned to himself. Frankly, the distance between you two was a sore spot for him as of late and he was expecting you to lock yourself in the bedroom.

At first, he had been stubborn about the tangible separation pushing you further and further away from him. Foolishly, Scaramouche had tried to drown himself in his busy work and missions, simply trying to ignore it. But after a while, he realized that this damned feeling of alienation and being constantly on edge like some old married couple was ridiculous.

That’s not who he married or the life he signed up for, and Scaramouche found himself determined to finally act like you both loved each other for once.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted you from the couch. Looking down at his casual sweatpants and shirt, you wished you could’ve stripped down and lazed around on the couch this afternoon. Sleep was something you desperately needed. He offers a small olive branch with his softened tone of voice. “Why don’t you get changed and come sit with me? I missed you.”

You drew in a hesitant breath. Perhaps it was your way of attempting to decompress before answering your husband or you were unsure of his intentions. The couch was definitely calling to you, and the prospect of your lover’s comforting arms enveloping you was even more tempting. In a haste, you kicked off your shoes and dropped your bag, nodding with a bit of a pitiful pout on your lips as you went into the bedroom.

Scaramouche perked up slightly upon hearing your return, making room for you on the couch so that he could spoon you just right. As you sat down, his hand immediately went to your hip and he found himself gravitating toward the comforting crevice of your neck. Your skin was colder than he expected from the rain but he was more than willing to share his warmth with you, his fingers venturing up the contour of your waist under your baggy shirt.

“There’s goosebumps on your skin,” he noted with an obvious smile in his voice. “Why don’t you take this off and let me warm you up, hm?”

You gaze at him over your shoulder, catching the subtle seductive intonation of his offer. Despite his pads of his fingers gently caressing and massaging your hip in encouragement, you weren’t entirely sure if you had it in you for too much physical affection. Most of all, you just felt tired.

Yet, Scaramouche always got his way. Maybe it was how the words rolled off his tongue that sparked your imagination in the back of your mind, or that mischievous gleam of excitement in his violet eyes. He had no problem catering to your needs, helping you slowly lift that baggy shirt over your shoulders and tossing it aside. He quickly did the same.

Suddenly, he ensnared you in his arms, burying his nose in your neck and sighing. The feeling of your back pressed against his bare, muscular chest was like a balm soothing his soul. You couldn’t help but chuckle lightly, surprised by his enthusiasm, and pull a heavy blanket over you both.

“Better get rid of these too,” Scaramouche suggested softly into the shell of your ear, tugging at the elastic waistband of your shorts. He generously nuzzled your neck, peppering a few kisses across your sensitive skin to distract you as he easily slipped you out of your bottoms.

Your whimpers were buried in your throat. You purposely tried to stifle it, but the little shiver of your neck and body against his ministrations couldn’t hide your true feelings forever. The slow drag of his hand up your plush thighs, over the round of your hip, and dangerously close to your breasts was merely a confirmation of your suspicions.

“Scara… please,” you murmur, sounding more like a faint plea for peace and relaxation. “My feet hurt so much. I don’t think I can move anymore, let alone do—”

“Shhh, love, you really think I’m going to make you do anything?” he asks rhetorically, the timbre of his sweet words deepening to a level bordering on husky. His hand travels back down the curves of your body with silent reverence, hoping to ease your worries. “I don’t think you realize how hard you’ve been working until it breaks you.”

With a click of his tongue, your husband continues to let his hand journey over every inch of your lovely form. Your breasts, your stomach, your pelvis, hips, thighs… If he was being honest, Scaramouche would never have thought he’d discover someone as perfectly imperfect as you. To not remind you of how much he secretly worships your whole being would be a grave sin in his eyes.

“I feel like I never see you anymore. We never talk anymore,” he mumbles into your shoulder blade, taking his time to kiss and nibble as much of your upper back as he could. You involuntarily arched your back, the sensation of his mouth along your spine sending pulses of electric desire through you. His voice shifts into a possessive growl. “And I miss my wife.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you weep dryly, rolling your head back to relax on him fully. Your thoughts instantly short-circuited at the revelation of his thick bulge pressing into the plush of your ass, tactically held in place by his fingertips digging into your love handle. You were so ready to just melt into him completely, to give in and let him take care of you.

“Don’t ask for my forgiveness,” he quickly interjected to correct you. You could feel the smirk spreading on his face as he leans into you as much as possible. The back of his hand ghosts your inner thigh, nudging it to the side. “Show me how much you want my mercy.”

You were hanging on every syllable that left his lips in a hushed whisper. A featherlight touch grazed near your outer labia, enough to capture your attention like a moth to a flame. That was all it took for him to push your mind over the edge. It was pathetic, really, how you were desperately trying to mentally fill in the blanks and imagine the pleasure of his slender fingers massaging your needy clit.

Scaramouche knew exactly what he was doing. He loved getting a rise out of you. Admiring the subtle contortion of your features in pleasure may be his favorite pastime. Tickling the insides of your thighs and skirting skillfully around the one place you wanted him most, he scoffed in amusement every time you sighed softly in frustration.

“I thought you were going to be nice,” you groaned impatiently, beginning to lazily roll your hips in rhythm with the intermittent brush of his fingers just shy of your cunt.

“I am,” he snickered into your collarbone, his hot breath pouring down your chest and thrilling your skin. “You can’t lie to me. I know you like when I tease you until you’re begging for me to stuff you to the brim.”

Taking your lower lip between your teeth, you managed to defiantly buck your hips forward and finally feel the tantalizing glide of his index and middle fingers between your slick folds. The sweet victory ripped a lewd moan of your lover’s name from your pretty throat. To say you were utterly addicted to the sound of him parting the lips of your glistening pussy might be an understatement.

“Tsk, tsk, good things come to those who wait. Isn’t that what you humans say?” Scaramouche mocks you lightheartedly, though his fingers don’t leave your clit. Rather, he circles the sensitive nub at a tantalizingly slow pace to earn another cock-twitching moan from your angelic mouth. “I could touch you like this all night… unless you’d rather serve your punishment on my cock instead?”

You were too preoccupied with the intoxicating pleasure concentrated on your aching clit, eyelashes resting on your cheeks and jaw slightly agape. Scaramouche chuckled deeply into your ear with satisfaction, returning his lips to your neck but this time with a little more force. His teeth sunk into you, intent on leaving a good bruise.

It would be a clear reminder in the morning of who you belong to.

He sucked a little harder, causing you to yelp in a mixture of both pain and pleasure. His words were muffled against your skin with a gentle scolding. “I asked you a question.”

“C-cock, please,” you nearly choke, starting to grind sloppily onto his hand for some sense of relief. His other arm underneath you tightened, essentially pinning you to the heat radiating from his body from behind.

“Whose cock?” Scaramouche grumbled jealously at your vague plea. He needed to know that you didn’t just want anyone’s cock to fill up your drenched, gummy hole. The intensity of his violet irises demanded an answer, glued to your blissed out and desperate expression. His fingers were hastily stimulating your clit as he intently watched you parse love and lust on the brink of an orgasm.

“Y-your cock! Please! I need it so bad,” you cried out loudly, the threat of tears lingering behind your eyes. He abruptly slapped a hand over your mouth to quiet your moans, and then shoved his hot, veiny cock pulsating with desire across your soaking wet entrance.

Scaramouche couldn’t stop the salacious groans under his breath, wanting you to hear all the ways you make him unravel. He was eager to drag the mushroomed, pink tip of his cock over your clit over and over, occasionally teasing your hole with the pressure of his length trying to nestle itself within you. But he never pushed it all in. Instead, he continued to gather your essence on his cock—the mere thought of cumming in your rosy folds like this and fucking it messily drove him wild.

“Don’t tell me… hnnnghh… that this is all you want, (Y/N),” he grunted with honeyed pleasure, grinding at a little faster rhythm. You were already nearing your climax again, whispering prayers and praises under your breath for Scaramouche to plunge into you and fuck you senseless.

His hand was still tightly covering your mouth, so you simply shake your head and moan breathily to ask for more.

“Mm, good girl,” he mumbles intimately, kissing your ear and nuzzling you affectionately again. “I know my baby is tired and needy, so I’ll let you be my little cocksleeve tonight, okay?”

You nod and hum against his hand enthusiastically.

He takes the opportunity to shower you with a few more kisses, lining the tip of his cock with your entrance once more. Your walls were already squeezing eagerly on the small inch of his tip inside you and he didn’t dare delay any longer. Scaramouche grabs you by the hip and buries the entirety of his thick cock in your slick tightness, his eyebrows crinkling at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him like a vice.

“F-fuck!” Scaramouche curses sharply, bottoming out completely in your aroused cunt. “So good. S-so fucking good, yeah…”

“A-ah, yes! Mm…” you sighed raggedly with ecstasy, pure pleasure and relief washing over you. His huge cock was stretching you perfectly, the lips of your pussy sucking him in at every possible chance. Despite your exhaustion, your husband had wound you up so much that you begged for tiniest semblance of a thrust into your sopping hole. “Oh my god, p-please, fuck me.”

Without warning, you decided to selfishly fuck yourself on his throbbing cock, but Scaramouche instantly snatched your throat. He held you tightly against his pecs and craned your neck with a forceful grip so that you were facing the ceiling, your oxygen partially cut off. The submissive position had your spongy walls dilating in excitement.

“No, no, wait,” he chastised you, his voice cracking slightly at the end as he struggled to adjust to your greedy cunt. “N-Need I remind you, love? Good things come to those who wait; and if you’re lucky, I’ll cum in you.”

He couldn’t believe your pussy was still quaking around his girth, releasing your neck as you nodded obediently. Once he pulled you into him tightly with his strong arms around your stomach, Scaramouche nudged your legs closed so that you could completely envelope his cock. It was incredibly hot every time he shifted to get more comfortable and your walls only swallowed him further. His breathing calmed slightly, wanting to relax with you for the rest of the night deep within your cunt.

“I-It feels too good, Scara,” you whined, cuddling into the pillow on the couch and clutching the warm blanket to your chest.

For the love of Celestia, your body was so exhausted from work but at the same time you wished you had the strength to fuck him like crazy. You made a mental note to wake him up tomorrow morning with the feeling of your folds lubricating his hardened cock, sinking completely onto his impressive length when his pretty indigo eyes sleepily opened for the first time. You’d make sure to hush him and keep his sleeping mask on snugly, fucking him to your heart’s content.

But for now, your husband returned to worshipping the expanse of your soft curves, coaxing you to relax despite the occasional twitch of his cock inside you. Scaramouche’s voice was smooth as silk when he whispered into the crook of your neck, “See? That wasn’t so bad now. Why don’t you turn on your show and I’ll keep this pretty pussy of yours company for as long as you need, hm?”

You both melted into each other’s embrace, connected in every way imaginable for the first time in a long time. The sensation of your lover’s cock nestling into your folds slowly nudged your sweet spot, drawing breathy moans out of you. He thrusted slowly but deeply, marveling at the lust clouding your eyes pushing you just a little bit closer to the edge.

Though Scaramouche was enraptured by the heavenly sound of your pussy slurping his cock, the need burning in his core was beginning to overtake him. “Mm, turn around for me, babe.”

He was gentle and attentive to you as he helped you face him, holding you firmly against his chest and quickly ensuring his cock didn’t leave your cunt for too long. As he stuffed you full, his mouth captured yours in a passionate kiss. His fingers dug into your hair, keeping your lips planted on his as you lazily swirled your tongue on his own and moaned his name.

“Nnghh, can’t take it anymore,” Scaramouche growled hungrily into your mouth, lifting your leg slightly to support you so he could delve his cock deeper. His tone trailed off in a quiet beg, “Lemme breed you, (Y/N). Please…”

“Mhmm,” you agreed without hesitation, cupping your lover’s cheek and kissing him with growing reckless abandon.

He was unequivocally smitten by your ardent claim to his lips, groaning lewdly into the kiss as he began to fuck your desperately pulsating pussy. His grip on you tightened, focusing solely on ravaging your walls until you were on the verge of screaming his praise.

“Hah, that’s it. Goddamn it, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he takes your lower lip between his teeth roughly, plunging ruthlessly and chasing his impending orgasm. “You can take it, you can take it, yeah… you better fucking cum all over me or else, I swear…”

You reeled him in with a firm tug of his dark purple locks, nearly crying in pleasure onto his tongue intermingling with yours. Moaning and whimpering like a whore, you clutched onto your lover like your life depended on it. “O-Oh my god, Scara, shit, I’m cumming! I’m… mmph, f-fucking c-cumming…!”

Scaramouche pounded his cock into your sopping release, a guttural groan escaping him as he generously coated your spasming walls with loads of his hot seed. He kept himself buried in your cum-laden folds, your erotic juices mixing around the base of his cock while he kissed you softly.

“God… you have no idea how much I missed you.”

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated. my masterlist.

#thank you for the request anon! :)#i could really use a night like this omg i got a little carried away hehe😩#[opulent dreams].✿#[dreams of delusion].✿#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin fatui #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #genshin wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer smut

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hrts4doie · 1 month

Text

[10:23] 💭 jaemin texting you this..

warnings: masturbation, nsfw texts, mentions of unprotected sex, jaemin is obsessed with u and ur pussy like badly that’s literally all this is

jaemin’s obsessed with your pussy.

recently, though, his obsession’s started to get out of hand. he thinks he’d do just about anything if it meant being able to have his face between your thighs for hours on end, mouthing at your cunt until he feels satisfied.

part of jaemin knows that realistically, he can’t just ditch everything to have you sit on his face every second of the day. you’re both busy people with things to do, and honestly, the thought makes him upset.

another part of jaemin thinks that, well, nothing is ever truly impossible. if he wants to have his nose in your pussy all day, then he can. responsibilities could come later if it meant getting a taste of you and hearing the way you moan his name so beautifully every time he eats you out.

jaemin’s just thinking about you and your pretty pussy, phone in his hand, and he’s already so hard.

without a second thought, he pulls up your messages, fingers flying across the keyboard. jaemin doesn’t think you understand just how badly he needs you.

jaemin: i need you so bad rn baby

jaemin: can’t stop thinking about your pussy

you: babe. i’m at work

jaemin: god

jaemin: your pussy is so nice i’d remove my ribs just to suck my own dick after fucking you so i could taste you longer

you: ???

jaemin groans and wraps a hand tightly around his cock. the thought of you at work in your tight little pencil skirt makes his mouth water. if it were up to him, he’d be under your desk right now, eating you out while you try to focus on whatever stupid task your boss assigned for you that day.

he slowly starts to work his hand up and down his cock, smearing pre-cum from his leaking tip all over his length. the slide is wet, just like your pussy, and jaemin seriously can’t get you out of his mind.

jaemin fucks up into his hand and can feel himself getting close already. it should be embarrassing how quickly he cums just by thinking about you but he thinks that at this point, he’s too obsessed to care.

he wishes it was your pussy he was fucking instead, desperately needing to feel your tight walls wrapped around his cock. nothing compares to the way you suck him in, taking jaemin’s cock like you were made for it.

jaemin cums all over his hand at the thought of fucking your tight pussy with a loud groan. his cheeks are red as a momentary wave of shame washes over him for how dirty his thoughts are, but he realizes that if any person were to ever get a taste of you, they’d be the exact same. who can blame him for being obsessed with his girlfriend’s pussy?

he’s quickly brought back to reality when he hears his phone pinging with notifications. he picks it up, looking to see who texted him.

you: jaemin

you: what was that ??

a/n: quick silly jaem hard hour inspired by that text i saw on twitter 😭😭 literally have no clue why that inspired me but i hope u guys enjoyed.. jaemin i need u

#jaemin x reader #jaemin hard hours #nct dream x reader #winnie’s hard hours #na jaemin #jaemin smut #nct smut #nct x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream

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kurosstuff · 3 months

Text

Lute x fallen angel! Reader: Fallen

Short fic- tell me what you think! Hope you all enjoy it-!

Summary" lute SHOULD hate you. But. How can she?

HEAVY SPOILERS MENTIONED LIKE AKL OVER(in this like one?) IDK PLEASE. ALL HAZBIN FICS I WRITE ARENT SPOILER FREE UNLESS I STATE THAT IT IS. YOUVE BEEN WARNED

Warning(s): blood/fights, love at first sight, maybe ooc lute? Idk yoy tell me I never wrote her, heartbreak, also from my knowledge? Wing movements(from birds please correct me on the info if I do it wrong I do not own birds) in denial, Adam and his vulgur language

Ngl I love lute-

Lute a cruel sadistic woman. Odd place for a woman in heaven. But given her status as the leader of the executioners. The one who leads the battles against those vile sinners. Who trains the angels picked to fight herself. The woman second in command to Adam himself.

It's a fitting role.

Never in a million years(and she HAS been around for that long. Or so she lost track of such a useless thing) would she? A ruthless exterminator encounter this thing other fully pure angels speak of.

Love

Why would she? Lute is a fighter. A warrior. The one who Adam HIMSELF entrusts his life too. Why would she fall for anyone? She doesn't even know if she CAN feel such a thing.

But as always- Life(or afterlife?) Is full of surprises. She was well aware of a new angel coming in. Recently passed in some horrific accident she doesn't care for the details just knows- need to pick them apart see if their ruthless enough to fight. But the second she went into the room her eyes widden- an odd feeling in her chest as If her heart- her cold heart was heating up.

"Hello~ are you uh Lute?" You asked shyly- which given the situation even the most outgoing would be just as shy. She blinked, glad for the mask to hide the flushed expression - the confusion on it.

Clearing her throat, she nods slowly, ensuring you saw "I am. Welcome to Heaven, " she greeted uncharacteristically polite- gentle. If you were to be mistaken, she ignored the odd look Adam gave her, looking at the name tag, even your name is pretty- she blinked.

What?

She did NOT just think that. She did NOT Find you pretty. Gorgeous. She does NOT notice how your eyes sparkle how friendly your smile is as you both talked. She most certainly doesn't notice how your wings are the single most gorgeous pair she's ever seen. How white it is- signaling how pure you are. How the gold etched into it- putting to shame her grey and black wings- smiling soft behind her mask. How how she wishes to touch the- she stops she will NOT think that

It became as clear as day to her and anyone else. Lute? Is inlove. And not just anyone. The new angel- the kind soul who? Adam states follows her around like a lost puppy or in Adam's kind words "Hey look. It's lutes bitch!" Oh how she wishes to punch him everytime- hit that smug look off. But she won't. Not yet.

A common tradition in heaven- like the birds in the human realm(maybe a odd similarity she presumed. She doesn't care for the human realm after all) finding a mate, a lover with the most gorgeous wings. It was no surprise you gained such attention

Much to her displeasure.

Grumbling watching as how you yet again were surrounded by angels around you- and ad always rejecting them before that smile she oh so adored. Yet would never state aloud was sent her way- making her scowl darkly(but on the inside? She was warm) quickly making your way to her she noticed how you fidgeted. How red you were "out with it. What is it?" She grumbled out no matter how warm and soft she was on the inside? Her words on the outside could never match. No matter how she wished it

White cleared her vision making her back up scrunching her nose before finally realizing what it was- a feather. Not just any old feather. Your feather "i.. i want you to have it.. I know the meaning bur when I was preening my wings u couldn't help it.. I want you to have my feather" they whispered watching as she gently took the feather.

Silently accepting them courting her with a soft smile. Maybe she can make it a necklace?

As great as it was up there. There were rules. Easy to forget. Easy to break. But rules nonetheless. Once Adam instructed her to strip a betrayers wings, Lute sighed. Grumbling loudly going to the room. Ignoring the odd almost somber pitiful look Adam gave her. Hiding the feather in her shirt tucked safe near her heart, she hummed, stepping inside fixing her helmet before freezing

"No-"

Her heart dropped paling more then she was already at the bloodied sight

"NO WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!"

She roared storming to your bloodied frame she couldn't help but break her never-ending composure for the first time, kneeling to your side "do you HAVE ANY FUCKING IDEA WHAT THIS MEANS?" She snarled ripping her mask off showing her teary face. Knowing her counter was now a sinner. Her angel was a traitor. A million emotions went through her head glaring down at you with every emotion but the one she should feel.

It wasn't hate.

She ignored her feelings, swallowing it down she ignored the reasoning of what you did. Of what you SAID. putting her mask on, she steeled herself. She was an executioner. A peacemaker. She takes care of the issue. So she pushed you down with her foot grabbing your once gorgeous wings now bloodied gold- in her one hand grabbing her spear she sliced. Ignoring how she was covered in your blood. The deafening screams of pain. Of agony. How you begged for her. She took a sigh taking her mask off giving you the chance to se her one last time. Without the mask. How she stared cold at you.

Before the ground opened up, "lute. Before I go- please I lo-" she cut you off, kicking you in. Closing her eyes as the ground closed. For the first time ever. She fell to her knees, holding the now broken wings sobbing out for a sinner. How was she not a sinner to for showing the regret. Showing the selfishness in this?

It wasn't long before she saw you again. Traveling down with Adam to meet with Charlie and her girlfriend- to Lute it was a vile relationship. Not because of the sex- no- because of the liar Vaggie is. How that bitch betrayed her kind and then fell for the ruler of hells daughter. She could almost laugh.

Blinking, ignoring the yelling match of Adam and Charlie. Looking out the window, she froze mouth wide open- even though the demons back was turned. No wings but a tail and horns. She knew that laugh. She knew that smell. No matter how different you looked. Eyes soft watching you turn. Even as a demon. You truly are a beautiful creature. She softened her gaze behind her mask before looking away in disgust. Not with you.

But herself.

Lute a angel? Finds a demon attractive. Sure it's you but. Your a demon. A angel and demon together is vile. Disgusting in all sense of the worse.

But even now. She can't help but still long for you. Long for the almost relationship. Frowning, she looked back at Adam, who watched her with a frown. She knew they'd have a talk. Sighing, she followed after him with a deep sigh

She truly wished this outcome was different. How she longs to see you once more. Touching the feather on her chest she sighs

The only way she would be with you. Is if she was fallen as well. What a cruel irony.

#lute x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin lute

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sugrhigh · 3 months

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FEELINGS MUTUAL - ( c.s. )

summary- you and chris, a d1 lacrosse player, have been good friends since freshman year. he accidentally hurts your feelings one night while youre hanging out, and things escalate as he’s apologizing.

warnings - it’s smut (use of ma included oop) so PLEASE read at ur own risk, if u don’t like it keep scrolling cuz idgaf 🤭

bff!chris x fem!reader

a/n: this is my first one shot on here AHH! i’ll probably be writing more so if you have requests or ideas, pls send them my way xoxo

“i still don’t understand how you predicted most of that within the first thirty minutes.” chris shakes his head, arms crossed as he leans back against the headboard casually.

“i told you, i’ve got it down to a science. all scary movies are practically the same.” you shrug, clutching a pillow to your chest as you lay in his bed.

it’s late now, or early. you’ve been watching movies together all night, just like you usually do during slow weekdays where neither of you have to be up for class, or in his case, practice.

“i wish you didn’t insist on watching them all of the time.” he says.

“aw, is little christina scared?” you tease him with a small grin.

“i hate when you call me that. and nothing about me is little.” chris kicks you with his foot gently, and you nearly roll off of the bed trying to avoid the contact.

“gross.”

“whatever, you’re the one thinking about my dick.”

“i absolutely am not.” you argue, though you feel your cheeks flush.

“keep lying.”

you lift an arm out to smack him in the bicep, and he just laughs. “stop flirting, you slut.”

“if i was flirting, you’d know.” chris smirks, running a hand through his long hair.

“you think you could rizz up the babadook?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him properly.

“oh for sure.”

he doesn’t hesitate before saying it. he even nods his head a little bit in certainty.

“someone’s confident.” you laugh.

“c’mon, i could rizz anybody up.”

“you haven’t managed to do it to me, and we’ve been friends for two years.”

“that’s because i’m not trying to.”

for some reason, this stings a little. chris is a bit notorious for getting around, though it’s not really his fault. as a d1 lacrosse player who also happens to be very attractive, girls come falling at his feet.

you’re just not one of them, and he clearly doesn’t mind. you’re not sure why you even care.

it just makes you feel weird, that you’re the only girl he’s not attracted to for whatever reason. like you’re defective or something.

“right. i forgot you’ll hit on every other girl in the world, just not me.” your voice comes out more sour than intended.

chris looks a bit surprised, eyebrows raising slightly at your tone. “because you’re…you know…you.”

“wow, you really know how to make a girl feel good, huh?” you roll your eyes before turning to lay facing the other direction.

a hand snakes its way to your waist, a familiar sensation that still makes butterflies erupt in your stomach regardless.

“you know i didn’t mean it like that.”

you bury your head further into the pillow, trying to ignore the way his thumb is tracing circles against your hip. “whatever, chris. i get it.”

“you clearly don’t, because you’re all pissy now.” he sighs, breath tickling your skin.

“no i’m not.”

“yes you are.”

“i just want to sleep.” you lie.

chris fully wraps his forearm around your stomach now, tugging you so that your back is flush against his chest. he buries his chin in the crook of your neck, and you can’t help but smile slightly to yourself.

“all i meant is that you’re not those girls. you’re too special.” he says quietly into your ear.

you bite down on your lip to try and keep the grin from growing.

“now you’re just humoring me.”

he shakes his head slightly, stubble scratching at your shoulder in a pleasant way. “i’m not and you know it.”

you’re actually thankful you’re in a tank top, because having his warm skin on yours is nice. you’ve never felt it before, and it kind of makes you nervous.

“do i?” you question.

“you should. you’re the only girl who can get me to watch horror movies with her. the only one who sleeps over, or gets to steal my hoodies—”

“oh please, i know you gave that bitch maddy your sweatshirt. she wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks.” you cut him off.

“okay, she stole that from me and now she won’t give it back, so that’s different.” chris shuts you down quickly.

“if you insist.”

you shift slightly in his arms, and you hear him suck in a breath as you get comfortable.

“don’t do that.” his voice is strained.

“what?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“don’t move like that.”

“i’m not allowed to move now?”

“not when your ass is on me.” his grumbles, and you finally get it.

“oh.”

your response is abnormally high pitched, and you’re not sure what else to say. you’re too terrified to turn even in the slightest.

“who’s scared now, huh?”

you swear he must have gotten closer, because you can almost feel his lips hovering by your earlobe as he speaks. the smile is prominent in his tone.

he’s teasing you, and it spurs a fire in the pit of your stomach that you’ve never felt with him before. you maneuver your body, and this time you purposely back your ass up against his lap.

you hear him let out a small groan that vibrates against your body, and it nearly makes you shiver.

“not me.” you give him attitude, though you’re practically breathless.

“have you really thought this through?” chris asks, pressing up against you so you can actually feel how hard he is.

you’re already pulsing, and his fingers dance back and forth across your stomach lightly. even with your shirt as a barrier, it’s too nice.

you nod in response, and his hand slides up your arm and over your shoulder, fingernails barely raking against your skin as he goes. chris grips your throat, and you push against him for some sort of friction, for anything.

“tell me you want it.” he demands, squeezing just a bit harder.

“you want it.” you manage to taunt, grabbing his arm and guiding it down your chest to the bottom of your shirt.

his hand slides underneath the tight fabric, back up your stomach, traveling to massage your left tit slowly. his thumb ghosts over your nipple, and you arch your back into him involuntarily.

“fuck.” you gasp quietly.

“no bra, huh? just for me?”

chris twitches against your ass, attaching his lips to your neck hungrily. his tongue slides against the sensitive skin, teeth digging into the flesh where your throat meets your collar.

his hand switches places, and he drags the pads of his fingers across your other nipple in a tantalizing pattern. the sensation of his touch and his mouth at the same time is bliss, and you let out a moan of pleasure.

“always wondered what you sounded like, you fuckin angel.” he praises, grinding his hips against you.

just feeling his length, pressing right against your core through the fabric of your yoga pants, makes you incredibly wet. he’d be shocked to find you’re not wearing underwear either.

you guide his hand back out from underneath your shirt so you can flip over again, sitting up slightly as you move to straddle him. he’s already bucking up into you, whining from the feeling of being underneath your hips.

“don’t tease me. i’ve waited too long for this.” chris pulls your arm down so he can give you an actual kiss.

his lips are soft, molding against yours desperately as his hands grip your ass. you rock against him as his tongue slides against yours, and he groans into your mouth.

“god, i love hearing that.” you admit against his lips.

you pull away so you can lift his shirt over his head, trailing your long manicured nails down his chest slowly, right along his happy trail. he throws his head back against the pillows, relishing in the feeling.

you can tell he’s growing frustrated though, and suddenly he grabs you by your waist, throwing you down so your back hits the mattress.

chris helps you out of your top like it’s a race, tossing it to the floor with his other clothes. he positions himself over you, capturing your lips with his hungrily.

you bring your hands up; one tugging at the curly strands of hair on the back of his neck, the other clawing at his back.

he likes this, smiling into you before biting down on your bottom lip harshly. chris pulls away, pressing kisses down your throat, down the valley of your chest, but not without moving his tongue back and forth against each nipple at least a few times.

it makes you writhe, hands tangling in his sheets as he continues.

“jesus, chris.” you’re basically whimpering.

he stops right at the top of your leggings, looking up at you from between your thighs like he’s asking for permission.

you lift your hips as an answer, and he tugs the slick material down over your feet. the air hits you, and you can feel how embarrassingly ready you are.

chris lowers himself to you again, pushing your legs apart with both palms.

“you’re so pretty, ma. so fucking wet for me, too.” he mumbles, kissing and nipping at your hip, down your inner thigh, right next to where you need him most.

ma. he’s never called you that before, and you like it way more than you should.

without warning, he slides his tongue flat against your pussy in one long stripe. his lips come down around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue against it slowly.

“holy shit—” you gasp, and your fingers tangle in his hair again, tugging at his roots as he buries his face further.

you’d been given head before, but it never actually felt good until now. chris’s fingers grip your thighs as he continues to force them apart, tongue moving up and down against your center at a faster pace now.

you can feel the pressure building, but you know you want more. you want to make him feel good too.

“oh my god baby.” the pet name slips out without even thinking, your head is so fuzzy with pleasure.

“fuck, call me that again.” he pulls away just enough to speak coherently.

“i need you inside me, baby, please.” you beg desperately.

“so ready for me, so eager.” he practically growls, sitting up so he can yank off his sweatpants, tugging his boxers down with them.

his dick is just as big as it felt, definitely the biggest you’ve seen in person, which is a little scary. he puts a hand to your mouth, turning your head to the side slightly.

“spit.”

fuck, this is hot.

you happily do as your told, and he pulls his hand back to spread it around his dick. his other arm goes to prop your one leg up as he aligns himself at your entrance.

chris pushes in slowly, and you both let out a long moan at the same time. you can feel him stretching you, and it takes a minute for you to adjust to his full length.

“fuck…” he says in that breathy voice you love so much.

he moves out, then back in, steadily picking up his pace as you get more comfortable. you have to give it to him, the kid knows how to use his hips.

“mmm…you feel so good around me,” chris grumbles, lifting your leg a little higher.

he hits a new spot, and it sends delicious waves of pleasure through your body.

“yes, right there!” your eyes screw shut, and his free hand goes to reach for your tits.

“fuck ma, i can feel you squeezing. taking it just like a good girl.”

such a pretty mouth saying such dirty things, things you didn’t think you’d ever in a million years hear from your friend. and yet, it feels exactly like it should.

he’s practically pounding into you now, and the little noises he makes drive you crazy. his free hand shifts so his thumb rubs against your clit, and you feel your core seize up.

“chris!” you cry out, and that damn smirk crosses his face again.

“tell em, angel. tell them exactly who you want.”

his fingers feel so good combined with his strokes, and this time the building pressure in your stomach is too much. you know you don’t have a lot longer left as your body begins to shudder.

“fuck, chris, i’m so close—”

“just a little longer, hang on for me.” he says, movements growing sloppier as he reaches his own peak.

his nails dig into the skin of your thigh, a bit of pain that is not unwelcomed. chris circles his other fingers around you faster, and you let out an even louder gasp.

“i’m—”

“fuck, me too. come on baby, come all over me.” he cuts you off, and you feel him twitch inside of you as he finishes with a groan.

“shit!” you ride out your own high, releasing onto his dick as he slows to a stop. you’re both completely breathless and sweaty as he pulls out, and you immediately feel at loss.

he leans down to give you a little peck before collapsing beside you.

“i’ve seriously dreamed about that so many times.” chris says, arm splayed across his chest as he stares into your eyes.

you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. “stop it.”

he’s quiet for a moment, and you peek through your fingers to look at him.

“you know this means more to me, right? you mean more to me.” he speaks softly, like he’s scared of how you’ll react.

you finally reveal yourself again, smiling more widely than you’d care to admit.

“good, cuz the feelings mutual.”

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #smut #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #fanfic #oneshot

613 notes · View notes

pupkashi · 4 months

Text

new year, new superstition

whoever said red underwear on new years brings love was onto something

a/n: happy new years [eve] !! i cannot wait to spend another year with y’all and making more silly stories that i hope u guys will enjoy :3 let me know what y’all think of this silly thing i thought of at 4 am <3

wordcount: 1,246

masterlist

you never believed in myths dealing with the new year. you never cared to run around with a suitcase or wear polka dots or to start sweeping and somehow eat twelve grapes all in under a minute.

and you most definitely never went out to buy yellow or red underwear to wear on new years.

until today, when you consciously wore your red pair of underwear, what’s the harm? it won’t do anything anyway you thought to yourself, continuing to get ready for the party your friend had invited you to.

your friends cheered as you they spotted you among the crowd of people, motioning for you to join them as they said hello, handing you a champagne glass as scooting over so you could take a seat.

after a couple minutes of talking you excuse yourself to the bathroom, hurrying as you check the time.

11:56 pm

you’re walking quickly, stopping in your tracks when you can’t find your friends.

there’s a light tap on your shoulders, “excuse me,” the voice is unfamiliar, making you turn around quickly. you’re greeted with stunning blue eyes and snowy bangs falling into them, a charming smile on the strangers face.

“hi,” you smile softly, not wanting to seem rude, “can i help you with something?” your head cocks to side a bit, confused as to why this drop dead gorgeous man was tapping you on the shoulder minutes before midnight.

“yes actually!” he grins, “see my best friend over there, thinks i have no game,” he points at the bar, you subtly glance over, seeing a man with long black sipping on a drink, observing the two of you, “he thinks i won’t be able to find someone to kiss by midnight.”

you stare at him dumbfounded, what the fuck was going on. “so you want me to..?” you trail off, staring at the much taller man as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“kiss me at midnight, yes,” he grins, “only if you want of course! if not feel free to walk away,” you weigh the pros and cons of the situation.

pro’s: you kiss a hot guy on new years, he proves he has game

con’s: ?

“yeah why not,” you laugh, “I’m y/n” you smile, the man flashes you a smile before replying, “satoru!”

the people around you begin to countdown and you step closer to satoru, giggling when his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you a bit closer. you let your arms snake around his neck.

“five! four! three-!”

“can i kiss you?” he breaths out, you nod, crashing your lips onto his as balloons fall from the ceiling, fireworks popping can be heard from outside as everyone cheers.

your lips fit together perfectly, you can taste his vanilla chapstick and the champagne he was sipping on. satoru feels like he’s on cloud nine, smiling widely when you two pull away.

“happy new year, satoru” you grin, lips still tingling as he smiles back at you.

“happy new year y/n” he replies, about to say something else when your friends find you, quickly whisking you away. you look back at him, an apologetic smile on your face as you wish your friends a happy new year.

it’s almost an hour later when you’re walking out of the building, tugging your jacket a bit closer to you when the cold breeze hits you.

“you cold?” the voice makes you stop in your tracks, a smile fighting it’s way onto your lips when you turn around, bright blue eyes meeting yours.

“aren’t you?” you reply, watching as he approaches you with a grin, he shakes his head.

“only been out here for twenty minutes” he laughs, teeth chattering a bit. the sound makes your mouth fall open, laughing softly.

“why have you been out here for twenty minutes? you don’t even have gloves on oh my god!” you squeal, instinctively taking his hands in yours, face burning when you realize how much larger his were than yours.

“didn’t wanna miss you,” he admits, cheeks even rosier than before as he looks at you, “couldn’t leave my new years kiss without getting to know them a bit more” he smiles, “especially when they’re an amazing kisser,” he teases.

you can’t help but roll your eyes, a bit embarrassed as you tug him back into the lobby of the building.

“if you wanted my number all you had to do was ask” you reply, satoru wiggles his nose a bit, smiling at you and humming.

“yeah but then i wouldn’t get to talk to you while i slowly unfreeze” there’s a flirty glint in his eyes, his gaze makes you look away for a second, flustered as you try to think of something to say back to him.

“we’ll what kind of person would i be if i left you hanging after giving you the best kiss of your life?” you laugh, watching as his smile grows even wider, giggling at your words.

you can’t help but immediately become even more attracted to him as he laughs, dimples popping out and making you swoon.

the two of you talk for a bit longer, deeming him warm enough to live before you’re scribbling your number onto his palm, kissing his cheek and waving goodbye.

you wake up the next day with a message from an unknown number:

it’s satoru :)

would you wanna get lunch sometime ? you see my best friend thinks i have no game … :3

you can’t help but laugh, biting your lip as you reply to his text,

well what kind of person would i be if i didn’t help prove him wrong :/

satoru swings his feet as he reads your reply, shoving the phone in suguru’s face, sticking his tongue out before texting you.

maybe he should be glad shoko accidentally washed his clothes with hers that one time, turning all his whites red.

he’s glad he wore that pair of white turned red pair of boxers that night, he can’t imagine a life where he didn’t have you in his arms right now, celebrating new years together once again.

it’s just the two of you in your house this year, 24 grapes in a small bowl on the table next to you, giggling softly as you cuddle together on the couch, watching the live feed of the countdown.

“kiss me at midnight? I’ve got something to prove to my best friend” he smirks, you can help but roll your eyes at him, sitting up and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him gently.

“oh shut it” you smile, crashing your lips onto his as the clock strikes 12 fireworks displaying on the tv screen, lighting up the entire living room.

you pull away quickly, grabbing the bowl as the two of you scarf down the grapes, laughing when satoru almost chockes on one of them. as the final chime of the clock sounds you press a kiss to your lovers lips, both of you smiling as he chases you for one last kiss.

“happy new years sweetheart” he mumbles, grinning when you card your fingers through his hair.

“happy new years angel boy,” you reply, pressing a kiss to his dimples before landing on his lips once more.

safe to say the two of you definitely believe in the new years myths now (suguru tells satoru he should get the credit, not shoko’s terrible laundry skills).

taglist: @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

479 notes · View notes

leclercsainzz · 7 months

Note

could you please do a jude bellingham where him and reader claim to be friends but eveyone assumes they’re together??? like they leave flirty comments on each other or stuff like that??

JUST FRIENDS, OR?

PAIRINGS: jude bellingham x fem!reader

TYPE: social media au

yourusername

liked by judebellingham, gioareyna and 585,947 others

yourusername: if you like this, then you like me 😉

view 6,846 comments

judebellingham: let me unlike this real quick

↳ yourusername: boy, yk damn well you like me 😌

↳ judebellingham: i mean, i guess

↳ yourusername: do you like me, like me? or just like me?

↳ judebellingham: 🤫

↳ user: are they flirting or???

↳ user: for two ppl who claim to be “friends” this sure don’t look like “just friends”

user: i swear, it’s so hard to decipher whether they’re flirting or just playing around … like?!?!??

user: how do i like this multiple times??!????!? 😩😩

gioareyna: damn okay, let me unlike this

↳ user: LMAO, PLEASE 😭

user: soooo are you and jude together or?????

user: my fingers hurt from double clicking too much

user: you’re so beautiful, i swear 😍😍😍😍

jobebellingham: when you say, “like” do you mean actually like? like like? or? because i know a little thing or two

↳ user: jOBE! WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!!?? LET US IN ON THE SECRET, PLEASE, IM BEGGING!! 🙏🏼

↳ jobebellingham: as jose mourinho once said, “i prefer not to speak … if i speak, i am in big trouble”

comment has been deleted

user: HELP, diD jOBE DELETE HIS COMMENT?!!? 💀 iT’S NOT THERE ANYMORE WTF?!??

user: stunnin’ 😍

user: can i stop liking this post now?

user: girl are you and jude dating?!???? i need to know

user: 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

user: ugh, she’s soo pretty wtf 😫

user: YN!!! where’d you get that sweatshirt?!!??

emmachamberlain: pretty girl 😍

yourusername

liked by yourusername, fedevalverde and 784,930 others

judebellingham: a place like no other .. mi casa! 🤍 #halamadrid

tagged: @realmadrid

view 9,937 comments

realmadrid: 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

user: let him cook!!!

adidaslondon: from birmingham to the bernabéu 💫

user: our starboy 🤩

vinijr: hey, judeeeee

yourusername: you’re that guy, huh?

yourusername: that’s my #5 🔥

↳ user: notice how she said “my” and not “our” 👀

↳ judebellingham: #5 on the field but #1 in your heart 😉 @yourusername

↳ user: “just friends” they say

user: unbelievable player! 👏🏼

user: ya’ll see yn’s comment?!!? she said, “MY”

↳ user: i’m telling you, these two are dating

england: 🤩

user: what a guy!! 🔥

user: @yourusername this yo man?

user: my man is currently thriving rn

user: cr7 would be proud

↳ user: missing my goat 😓

user: jude > that one barca dude (i said what i said)

↳ user: “said what i said” who mf?!!??

↳ user: i know who you’re referring to, i agree 🫣

jobebellingham: 🤩🤍

erling.haaland: hi cutie

user: #halamadrid 🤍🤍🤍

user: madrid > barca

↳ user: you mean barca > madrid

judebellingham

📍mykonos, greece

liked by trentarnold66, yourusername and 710,104 others

judebellingham: what a place 🇬🇷

view 7,831 comments

jobebellingham: wow, you’re cool

↳ yourusername: or so he thinks …

yourusername: hey judeeee 🤭

↳ judebellingham: hey pretty girl 👋🏾

↳ user: uMmmm??!?!?

↳ user: “just friends” my ass

user: welcome to madrid 🤍

user: finest player ever, i swear 😍

user: does anyone know if he’s alone on the trip or??

↳ user: why do you care???

user: I WAS JUST IN MYKONOS LAST WEEK 😭😭

user: this mf calling yn “pretty girl” was my last straw 😩

gioareyna: i miss u, cutie 😘

↳ judebellingham: i miss you too 😘

user: harry kane >>>> jude

↳ user: thIs must be a joke, wtf 😭😭

↳ user: did jude miss a penalty shot?!? i don’t think so! harry kane >> jude 🤩 CASE CLOSED! (yes, it’s a joke)

user: jude, the kids miss you, come back home

↳ user: me being delusional like 💀

trentarnold66: 🤩🤩🤩

user: live, laugh, love jude ❤️

user: sirrrr 😍😍

user: dude just stole my girl’s attention from me

↳ user: does your gf happened to be yn?!?

↳ user: nah, i wish tbh 😩

user: he’s so damn fine 😮‍💨

user: i told my mom about us

↳ user: ya’ll delusional, damn 🤣

user: is yn with you or???

user: he wants me 🤭

↳ user: yn, is that you?

yourusername

📍oía, santorini, greece

liked by judebellingham, jobebellingham and 601,101 others

yourusername: a lil vacay photo dump:) 😜

view 5,837 comments

user: jUde’s in greece??!? yn’s in greece?!?? does this mean?!?? they’re in greece together or???!?

gioareyna: 👀 oooohhh

↳ user: oohh?? wdym ohhh??

user: they posted different locations but im pretty sure they’re together!! jude posted a pic in a boat?? now yn?

judebellingham: hey ynnnn 👋🏾

↳ yourusername: heyyy bestie!!!

user: they HAVE to be together

judebellingham: are you following me? 🤔

↳ yourusername: pretty sure, you’re the one following me?

↳ judebellingham: mom did tell me to follow my dreams so;)

↳ yourusername: ooohh is that so??

↳ judebellingham: absolutely, pretty girl 😙

user: ^ iS he flirting ?????

user: don’t flirt with your “friend” challenge: level impossible

user: he can try to be a little less obvious

↳ user: who?

↳ user: jude lmao

user: pretty girl 😍😍😍

user: one chance is all im asking for, yn!!!!!

user: beauty!

jobebellingham: what takes you to greece, young lady?

↳ yourusername: simply lost in the blue and white charm of the greek islands 😌

↳ jobebellingham: and jude???

comment has been deleted

sasha__rebecca: hi, you’re hot! 😍

sasha__rebecca: that’s my girlfriend, ya’ll 😩

↳ yourusername: 😘😘😘

↳ jackgrealish: excuse me???

↳ yourusername: you’re excused, grealo

↳ sasha__rebecca: sorry, jack! my heart belongs to yn

yourusername

liked by sasha__rebecca, masonmount and 585,937 others

yourusername: 🤎🤎🤎

view 5,027 comments

user: how can someone be so pretty?!?? 😩

judebellingham: yo bro who got you smiling like that? 🤔

↳ yourusername: not you that’s for sure(:

↳ judebellingham: and here i thought i was the reason behind that beautiful smile but oh well 🤷🏽‍♂️ …..

↳ user: um????!??? hello??? does anyone else see this??

user: can we all talk about jude’s comment???!???

↳ user: im CONVINCED these two are together

user: i just know jude took these pic

user: gorggg 😍😍😍😍

user: your smile is everything 😩

user: “just friends” they say

user: nah frrr, who got you smiling like that??!?

user: jude, i get it, she’s gorgeous! i’d be obsessed too 😌

user: juDe’s COMMENT AKAKALDNFNXL

user: i pray they’re together ✨✨✨✨🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

erling.haaland: coffee 👍🏼

↳ yourusername: oh, hey there

↳ user: why is he so random??? 😭😭💀

mikkykiemeney: 😍😍😍

↳ yourusername: ❤️❤️

user: were you and jude in greece together?

user: idc if she’s not a wag but she’s my fav wag 😌

user: her smile broooo 😩😩😩😩😩

user: jude’s real lucky, huh?

sasha__rebecca: let me take you out for dinner 😉

↳ yourusername: anything for you, my love 😘

user: she fine asff 😗

jobebellingham: 🤩

↳ user: watch out for jude 🤣 that’s his girl

user: jude, huh? 😏

judebellingham

📍south of france

liked by gioareyna, yourusername and 701,016 others

judebellingham: recharging with my bro! 🇫🇷🫶🏽

tagged: @jobebellingham

view 7,937 comments

user: you’re telling me that last post is you and jobe?? 🤔

↳ user: LMAOO FRRR 💀

↳ user: i guess yn is “bro” now

↳ user: like bffr, mate 🙄

johnstonesofficial: nice you!

yourusername: cute!

yourusername: bro 😊

↳ user: 😏😏😏😏

↳ user: just say ya’ll dating

yourusername: my fav!!!

↳ judebellingham: 💁🏽‍♂️ i know i am

↳ yourusername: sorry??? i was talking about jobe??

↳ jobebellingham: so inconsiderate, damn 🙄

↳ yourusername: tell me about it

↳ judebellingham: 🙄🙄 i hate you guys

↳ yourusername: we love you tooooo 😘😘

↳ jobebellingham: speak for yourself, yn

gioareyna: good people 🙌🏼

user: jobe is starting to look like jude, i swear

user: 🔥🔥🔥🔥

user: we all agree that’s yn in the last post right?

user: don’t you mean recharging with bro AND girl?

user: they look like twins in that second post

user: my boyfriend and brother in law 😩

user: bellingoal 🤩

user: the genes are STRONG STRONG

user: my favorite brothers ❤️❤️

user: mom and dad bellingham really said, “copy and paste”

judebellingham

liked by trentarnold66, erling.haaland and 711,034 others

judebellingham: she’s not so bad 🤷🏽‍♂️

tagged: @yourusername

view 6,857 comments

user: FINALLY OMG WOANSKSLX

user: i had a feeling they were together but i was NOT prepared for the hard launch, wtf alssnsodbf

↳ user: you and me both, sister

jobebellingham: about damn time! 👏🏽

gioreyna: it’s official now, i gotta share the loml 😟

↳ judebellingham: sharing is caring after all 😉

↳ yourusername: um????

yourusername: you’re not so bad yourself, mate

yourusername: ❤️❤️

user: i was NOT PREPARED FOR THIS

user: uhhh, hello?????

user: am i dreaming or??????!!?!

user: I MANIFESTED THIS SHIT, IDCCCC

user: so this confirms they’ve been together for a while, right?

trentarnold66: have i been replaced, now that it’s official?

↳ judebellingham: never that

erling.haaland: i feel a bit heartbroken 💔

↳ judebellingham: just to clarify, you left first 🙁

↳ gioareyna: and then there was one left ….

↳ user: well damn 😟 thanks for reminding me 😭😭😭😭

user: my favs, omg!!!!

user: scREAMING ALSLAPDNFjelal

user: ngl i’m a bit heartbroken, but also happy for them

user: we’ve officially lost him, girlies 😩😩😩

user: i’m 💔💔😭😭 but also 🙌🏼🤩😏😉🤩🤩

yourusername

liked sophiaamelia, erling.haaland and 647,750 others

yourusername: i guess the secrets out, huh? 😝❤️

tagged: @judebellingham

view 5,047 comments

user: the first pic literally confirms they were together in greece!! bapsjdndkdjorgbpsndl

user: yn, babe, the secrets been out for ages 🙄 bffr

↳ yourusername: were we THAT obvious?

↳ user: yes, girl 😭😭😭 ya’ll weren’t the best at hiding it tbh

gioareyna: ahhh my man 😍😍😍

↳ yourusername: my*

↳ gioareyna: he was MINE first tho

user: the real madrid jersey 😩😩

judebellingham: 😘😘

judebellingham: i love you, pretty girl ❤️❤️

↳ user: cRying 😭😭😭😭

jobebellingham: 🙌🏽🤩

user: you’re cheating on me, huh??? 😒😒😒

user: “secrets out” as if nobody knew 💀

↳ user: nahh frrr 🤣

user: screaming and crying 💔💔😭 yn, you broke my heart

user: FINALLY!!!!!!! 🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼

trentarnold66: this cute or whatever 🙄 preferably the latter

↳ user: please, trent 😂😂😂

user: they cute!! 🥰

user: favs

user: I CALLED IT, OMG!!! 😏

user: it was about time, girl!!!

1K notes · View notes