(*^ω^)

"You don't have to come anymore, maybe I'll play better not seeing you in my jersey if you wanna be like this!"

Those were the last words Jude said to you before storming out with his bag for his next match. Neither of you even remembered what the argument was about anymore, something about him being on edge all the time because of the World Cup pressure, but now it spiraled into both of you yelling things neither of you actually meant.

Just like his last sentence. He wanted you up there, cheering his name. He definitely didn't play better knowing all his teammates had family supporting them, while he had no one in the stands because he told his girlfriend he didn't want her there, but he was just too angry to admit it. He would rather risk the game than risk his pride and admit he was wrong.

So, that's how he showed up to the stadium. Angry. Irritable. Snapping at everyone. Taking out all his anger on the ball during warmups. Poor Pickford.

"Mate, what's going on with you?" Kane had the balls to ask. As their captain, he needed to know why his players weren't alright and how to fix it. Especially someone as reliable as Jude.

"Leave me alone, alright? Go warm up, you need it after that last shitshow of a game." Jude scoffed, getting half-nasty and half-concerned looks from his team. He had never been so unsportsmanlike to insult his own team member.

"What's going on with him?" The whispers ran through his team on the field as he stormed off to the locker room, not once cracking a smile or a joke like he once did before a match as important as this one.

. . .

The match was starting. The commentator was already yelling nonsense through the microphone. Fans were cheering so loud, he could barely hear his own heavy breathing. This was important. He needed to do well. He needed to just clear his head and not think about how much he probably hurt you. He'd deal with that later. Right now, all that mattered was getting that ball into the opposite goal.

When the commentator announced England's team, they jogged onto the field, being met with loud screams and cheers. He smiled for the cameras, waving and looking around.

And then he saw it, in the area reserved for family. You. In an English jersey.

He was about to feel utter relief when he saw the number on the jersey. Not his 10. But a large, black 25 across the jersey. Spence? You were wearing.. Spence's jersey? As his girlfriend? What the fuck?

You looked just as upset as he was, a frown tugging at your lips. God, he wishes he had cleared things up before the match. He would've had a warm smile cheering him on and HIS name across your back. But wearing another player's jersey? A player on his team? That was just petty. And he wanted to rip it off of you, throw it into a wood chipper or something.

Rumors would spread immediately. *Jude Bellingham's girlfriend wearing Djed Spence's jersey, controversy ahead?* when the reality was you just wanted to get back at him and be equally as bitchy as he was.

He'd show you. He'd fucking show you. He'd make sure he won this game and then show you who's name should be across your back, or better yet, tattooed across your forehead so everyone knew whose you were.

He gritted his teeth, clenching his fists as he got into position. He was starting and he couldn't let the sensation of his blood boiling affect him in any way during the game. After the game, on the other hand... he'd deal with you.

Jude had never played with so much passion. He needed to prove he was better, needed to prove that absolutely no one deserved you the way he did. And you had no right to make it seem like some other guy had you. Only he had you. You were his, only his.

He was breaking his own records for the game, running faster, shooting harder. One of the three goals was his, while Spence didn't get off of the bench this game. Still, Jude didn’t understand what was going through your head when you decided it was a good idea to abandon his jersey for someone else's. That fire still burned in his gut.

In the locker rooms, all of his team finally understood what had gotten him so worked up. All of them saw you. Spence had even come up to him to apologize, even though none of it was his fault.

He ignored all of them, except a slight nod at his teammate's apology. All he did was rush through his shower, so he could get home quicker and show you why you do not fuck with him.

His driver arrived as quickly as he was called, not even attempting small talk when he saw how livid Jude was. He just did his job and drove him back to his hotel room as quickly as possible.

Jude as running up the stairs, already searching his bag for his key. Making it to the door, he shoved the key inside the keyhole and turned it so aggressively, it could've literally broken.

Inside, you were sitting there on the bed. Still in a jersey that wasn't his. Not saying a word to him.

He threw his bag on the floor, the hotel room keys left on the door where he had used them to lock it.

"You think you're so funny, huh? So fucking hilarious, aren't you?" He hissed, walking over to loom over you. "What the fuck is your issue, hm? You come home to him or to me?" He spat out the words, like they were disgusting in his mouth.

"You said I shouldn't come in your jersey. You didn't say I couldn't come in.. anyone else's." You scoffed, looking away. Unfortunately for you, he grabbed his jaw, pressing his fingers into your cheeks.

"Fucking look at me. Watched me the whole game and now you can't look in the eyes, love? What, scarier now that I'm in front of you and you can't be all haughty up there? Hmm?" He held your chin steady, making sure not even your eyes flickered away. "Answer me. What the hell were you tryna do?"

"You said it yourself," you explained, words muffled by the way he was holding your cheeks. "Don't come in your jersey. It's not your jersey."

Jude laughed, but zero humor was behind it. "Are you having a laugh? Are you fucking joking? Do you think this is funny? Answer me, damn it. You like making me mad?"

You smirked. "Well, when you get mad so easy.."

"Oh, you just wanted to make me mad, huh? Well, you fucking succeeded." Jude grabbed the front of the jersey and tore it apart with his bare hands. When you gasped, he snarled, grabbing a handful of your hair and tilting your head back. "Never try to fucking do that ever again. You need a reminder who you're dating? Because I promise you, Spence will be the last man on your mind."

Your gulp echoed through the room.

"Don't piss me off, love. I adore you, but fuck are you irritating!" He growled.

You stood up, pushing him away slightly. "I just followed your wishes, so calm the hell down! You told me what you wanted and now you're mad at me for doing exactly that?"

"Nah.. nah nah nah, gorgeous, you just wanted to make me angry.. you knew exactly what I meant when I said that. Don't bend the rules to make sense to you!" Jude yelled, leaning forward to grab both of your cheeks with either hand.

"You are so fucking annoying, y'know that? Making me look like an idiot whose girl doesn't support him." He growled, before leaning forward to close that gap between the two of you. The kiss was hard, not soft in the slightest. More like he wanted to eat your face off, more like he wanted to seal your lips to his, so that no other man's name would ever leave your lips.

"Jude--" You murmured against his lips, barely able to catch your breath.

"Oh? So, now you know my name? Now it's Jude, hm?" He gripped your jaw, pulling you back towards him. The kiss was all tongues and teeth knocking together, him biting at your lower lip as if to punish you. Like he was sending a message, "how dare you have another guy's name on you?".

"I am so bloody furious at you, you uptight little.. ugh, can't even insult you, love you too much." He gritted out through clenched teeth, opening his eyes the slightest bit.

All the memories of the match flooded in. That's how he ended up pushing you onto the hotel bed and haphazardly sliding the scraps of the jersey off your shoulders. He hurried to unbutton your jeans, throwing them across the hotel room. They hit the wall hard, most probably alerting the next door neighbors.

Then your panties suffered the same fate as the jersey. Ripped with one clean pull.

"Hey! What the hell?" You yelped. "Those were really cute!"

"You have 10 more. I'll buy you 10 more if it's such a fucking issue, but right now, shut up." He shot you a glare. "Don't make me angrier, love, I'm already so fucking furious with you.."

He grabbed you by the waist, flipping you over. "Bury your face in that pillow if it makes you not talk. Don't fucking speak to me with that mouth." He gritted out, delivering a hand hard to your right ass cheek. It bloomed pink where he spanked.

Your gasp made him laugh. "No smug smile now? I know, hard to be rude when you're face to face, but it's so fucking easy when you're angry and far away.."

Another slap. Other cheek. He adored that peach pink colour. And even more, he adored how your biting tongue was now reduced to whimpers and yelps. He was mad, you could feel it in the way he was spanking you. Again. His hand came down hard, leaving a handprint now. The other hand came up to your head, pushing it into the pillow and arching your back manually, just so he had better access.

"Never fucking again, yeah? Never again will you wear someone else's name when you have me right here. No matter how mad you are.. shit, sit still." Another. Slap. It echoed against the walls, just like your sudden yelps, filled with anticipation when the next slap would hit your ass.

"You gonna apologize or would another fifteen of these do you good?" Jude asked, cocking a brow even though you couldn't see it.

"..'m sorry.." You whined, but the voice was obviously muffled into the feathery pillow. He grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your head up and leaning over your entire body to look you in the eyes.

"Repeat that. Properly. I didn't hear you, love." He whispered, eyes almost dark with well-suppressed anger. "Come on. Say it again, look me in the eyes while you say it."

"I'm sorry.." You repeated, finally losing that smug edge in your voice. You were still mad at him, just as mad as he was at you for that awful argument, but this was his way of making it up to you. Maybe he was angry, maybe he was using this as a punishment. But you loved it. None of this was a punishment to you.

"Good fucking girl. Now, imagine if you had had that sweet mouth before you decided to do that silly little fucking stunt." Jude mouthed at your neck, biting down every few kisses, leaving raw and red marks. This way, no matter what jersey you wore, it'd be clear who's you were.

While you were drunk on his kisses, his free hand felt all the way down your spine. With a squeeze to your ass, it landed a sharp smack on your pussy, making your legs spread wider reflexively. He laughed, sliding one finger inside of you, feeling around already. He'd usually wait for you to adjust, but tonight, he knew it didn't hurt. It never hurt. He just cared too much to rush.. when you didn't strike every nerve in his body.

"Mmmhmmmfuck!" You moaned, a second slim finger of his sliding in. Stars began to blur your vision. Fuck, he was going so hard, the wet splat-splat of his fingers inside your pussy echoed through the room. "Gorgeous fucking sounds.." He scissored his fingers to loosen you up, then pulled them out suddenly. The frustrated exhale that left you was music to his ears.

"You miss being full? Don't even worry, love.." Jude pulled his shorts along with his boxers down just enough, already hard as metal from thinking about what he was gonna do to you when he came back. Grabbing the ends of your hair, he pulled your head back as he pushed his already leaking cock in.

"Yeeeahhhh, fuck.. you can wear anyone's name, but at the end of the day.. who fucks you like this?" He asked, expecting an answer.

"You.. god, Jude, you, only you.." You moaned as he used your hair as a device to control your body, pulling you back onto his cock instead of thrusting into you.

"You work for it. Work for it. I don't reward mouthy little sluts." His free hand reached over and put his fingers inside your mouth, the same fingers that were thrusting in and out of your pussy as good as his dick was. "Be grateful I didn't have you on my thigh instead of actually on my cock. Or better yet, be fucking grateful I didn't leave you high and dry.."

His balls slapped against your clit, giving you an unexpected extra stimulation every hard thrust. The entire bed was creaking, shaking with the force of his rage. Everything he felt today, the argument, the pressure during the match.. he was letting it all out on you.

Tears of pleasure were already welling in your eyes, but they actually fell when his thumb pressed against your tongue. He was mad at you, but you loved this, being useful to him. You knew he wouldn't stay angry much longer, would probably forgive you as soon as he finished, but until then, you could enjoy deliciously angry Jude.

Taking his fingers out of your mouth, he slapped his half-wet palm on your ass. The moisture made it hurt more, but that pain made you clench around him. "Fucking slut.. turns you on when I slap you around and pull your hair? You like being treated like a toy? Obviously, since you like other guys taking claim on you." With the hand in your hair, he pushed your face into the pillow sideways, so he could lean over your body and look you dead in the eyes.

"Feels good? No matter how hard I go, it'll still feel good, won't it? Because you fucking love it, don't you?" Jude grinned, to which you nodded. "You're gonna cum, hm? Then do it quickly before I change my mind about letting you."

It only took a few more thrusts from him for you to cum, a loud cry piercing through the thin hotel walls and surely alerting a few of his teammates.

At the same time, he pulled out, his cum painting your back as he stroked himself through his orgasm. You were shaking through yours, so his hand went down to palm lazily at your clit to help you through it. "Mhmm.. amazing." He laughed, reaching over for a paper towel to clean your back while you completely collapsed onto the hotel bed.

Afterwords, Jude stood up to dress himself and crouched down to face you, still lying there, cockdrunk and cloudy eyes. He grabbed your jaw to bring some life back into you.

"I fucking love you, but fuck, don't do that again. Ignore me, hit me, block me, don't come to my game. But never make me think another guy has you the way I do.. I want MY girl up in those stands, smiling for ME and MY number across those pretty tits. No one else's. Mhm?"

You nodded, murmuring an "mhm" back. He smiled. "Atta girl. Prettiest girl in the whole world. I hate arguing with you.." He muttered, helping you up and into the bathroom to shower. "I got room service dialed, you go clean off.. yell if you need help." Jude smirked. "Then we'll talk about that bloody stupid argument. And then you'll congratulate me for that amazing match, yes?"

"Shut up, Jude.." You smiled, already getting that attitude back. Good. That meant you weren't actually mad at him for fucking you silly.

Seeing you limping over to the shower and mouthing him off, he chuckled under his breath and followed you back into the bathroom.

Maybe round 2 would teach you a better lesson.

afterword : idk what's gotten into me but with the world cup going on, ive been overloaded with smut ideas please tell me if you guys like them because i have alot more coming. alot of haaland ones are cooking trust me.

The gym was quiet at this time of night. The air conditioner cooling the entire space was your only remedy during the training sessions from hell. It seemed like he hated you, with how hard Dominik's been pushing you to work harder. It's been close to everyday for a couple weeks now. You guys knew eachother, heard of eachother in the sports industry and got closer by coming to the same gym.

Maybe a little bit of it was schemed by you. No one could blame you, everyone would ask him for a spot if they saw him shirtless and lifting twice their bodyweight.

Anyways, he's been sort of your personal trainer since then. He'd do his own work out before you came in and then spend the rest of his time spotting and encouraging you. It was nothing loud or pushy, Dominik's always been quieter than the rest of his team, it was more like.. quiet whispers of "you can do it, just one more time" while you were fighting for your life.

If you were fighting for your life because the weight was too heavy or because his voice in your ear made you so fucking wet you couldn't think or breathe or see properly, well.. nobody knows.

You opened the door to the private gym. 9PM, he had texted you earlier. Scanning your membership card, you advanced into the equipment room, only to see him loading weights onto the squat rack. Ten, fifteen, twenty.. by the time he noticed you, he had put on 5 kilograms more than your PR.

He only looked up because he heard your dramatic groan and when your eyes met, Dominik laughed quietly. "You can do it, I wouldn't do this if I thought you couldn't." He reassured in his slightly accented English.

"There's no way I can do that, I barely reached my previous record." You complained, slipping off your outside shoes and the sweatpants you were wearing over your gym shorts.

"That's why I'm here to help, isn't it?" He whispered, and you swore your internal body temperature skyrocketed. Your entire face warmed and all your limbs began shaking before you even touched any of the weights.

"Are you alright?" He slipped away from the squat rack and approached you, tilting your head up with a few fingers. Seeing how red you were, Dominik pressed the backside of palm to your cheeks and forehead. "You're very warm.. are you sure you're ready to train? Are you sure you're not sick?"

"No, I'm.. I'm definitely not sick. It's just hot in here." You lied, smooth enough for anyone else. But he's a goalkeeper, he reads player's body language as much as he reads the ball and with that knowledge, he was halfway to becoming a profiler.

"If you say so.. but that means you can lift this without complaining." He smiled, heading back to the equipment.

"Ugh.. you can't expect me to not complain." Rolling your eyes, you got up and followed him over to the rack.

"You know how to hold it, c'mon.."

You'd also know how to hold something else if he gave you the chance, but that's.. a conversation for another time.

"Wider legs. Don't cut corners." He scolded gently, like he was handling a rowdy bunny and not a grown woman. But god, you couldn't process any information properly when the man of your recent dreams just told you to spread your legs. Well, not for the reason you wanted, but it still sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

"Bar behind your shoulders.. goooood." He drew out that last word, saying it while helping you into that flawless form. "Heavy, right? You're stronger than it, I know you are." He reassured, collecting the hair that had flew out of your ponytail and slipping them back into the hair tie. You could've slipped to your knees for him right then and there. Then he would've have a better reason to tie your hair.

"Ready now? Slowly. You can do it." He stepped back to give you space. It burned, the painful sensation spread through your entire body. Your knees, your hips, your thighs. Everything was under pressure.

"I can't--" You tried, but got silenced.

"You can, you're doing it right now. Don't waste your breath on words, you need it. Breathe out when going down. I'm right here if you slip, but you won't." He encouraged, watching your form with observant eyes. "You've done this so many times.. I've seen it."

When you pushed with all your strength and finally stood up, Dominik rested his hands on your hips, explaining something about placement or form or something else you couldn't think about because ohlordhestouchingyou!

"Slower, don't rush." Dominik whispered, letting go of your hips when you began squatting again. "There we gooo, amazing." He praised, his eyes crinkling as well when he smiled. "See? I knew you had it in you. Three more, get to five. C'mon."

It was like his praise lit a fire inside you. You wanted to get it right, you wanted to meet his standards. The next three came easy.. well, easy enough. Every muscle burned, but the pain drifted away everytime he told you how amazing you were doing.

"And that's five. Good, take a rest." Dominik handed you his ice cold water. "Few sips. Not gulps. Bad for you."

"Yeah, yeah.." You rolled your eyes. You've heard that sentence probably everyday for the past month.

"I'm very serious, I don't want you sick. I want you getting stronger and better." He insisted, the weights he was stacking onto the deadlift barbell already clinking together. "Can we try another new PR? Or tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow. Please." You begged, to which Dominik laughed.

"Alright.. only because you did so well squatting."

You bent over to lift the barbell. He stood behind you to fix your form. It took all your self control to not rub up against him.

He placed a hand on your back, pushing it in slightly. "Straighter back. Wider legs. Perfect." He purred, stepping a half-step back to let you lift. "You can do it.. good, how perfect."

That sentence made you want to moan. He had no idea the affect he had on you. He had no idea you wanted him to slam you against these gym walls and fuck you until you were crying..

.. right? He definitely didn't wanna do the same thing. . . Right?

Well, wrong. Because all Dominik could think was how amazing you looked bending over, squatting. He was better than this, he told himself, he was genuinely in love with you for your looks and for your personality.. so, why is he acting like a moron and only focusing on how hard he was getting?

He was better than this. You deserved better than this. But dammit, for once, could he just be selfish? His entire career was made saving crazy shots and passing the ball. For once, he wanted to be the striker that got said crazy shot, who kept the ball all to himself the whole run.

"Was that 10?"

Your voice snapped him out of his daydream.

"H-- huh? Sorry?"

"I asked.. was that 10 deadlifts? And are we done for the day?" You smiled. Innocently. Because you definitely didn't notice the tent in his shorts, oh, no! You definitely weren't looking there!

"Y-- yes, amazing. Go change, go shower.."

"Come with me."

"What?" Dominik coughed. "What did you say?"

"I said.. come with me." Your voice lost the edge of confidence you had randomly gained because.. had you read this situation all wrong? Was he gonna be reporting you for sexual harassment or something?!

You felt your hand getting cupped. Then your wrist getting grabbed.

And soon, you were getting dragged off to the showers.

Hell yes.

"Guys, it's closing time, we really need you two out.." An employee murmured, to which he only got that death glare from Dominik that only his defenders got after a stupid move. "On second thought.. stay for another hour while we clean up the equipment-- okay, you're already gone.."

In the changing rooms, he was already all on your lips. Messy. Kisses half on your lips and half on your chin, already trailing down to your jaw and neck. He was so awkward in interviews, so calm on the field.. all of that was gone now. All he felt was this warmth deep in his gut that would not calm down unless he was either 2 fingers or 7 inches deep in you.

"Take this off." He snapped the band of your sports bra. Not too hard, of course, he was still gentle with everything except your poor lips. The ones on your face, that is.

When your top left your skin, his large hands were already cupping your boobs, thumbs sliding over the hardened nipples. Your own hands went down to your gym shorts, pulling them down with your panties.

He nudged you into the gym shower before taking his own clothes off aswell. Rock hard abs, biceps that could definitely choke you out if he squeezed hard enough. You'll check that theory later.

He joined you as soon as his boxers hit the bench he placed them on, because ew, not on the gym bathroom floor.

You had already set the water to a nice warm temperature when his lips met yours again. His hands slid under your thighs, grabbing them and lifting them around his waist. Then, his hands slid upwards to squeeze your ass and hold you by it.

You were already dripping wet from the foreplay beforehand (aka him whispering in your ear and guiding you around), so even though Dominik wanted to get on his knees and make you sob in the best way possible, he really needed the same release you did right now.

One hand slipped off your ass to find his cock and guide it to your pussy. He rubbed it up and down once, twice, three times before slowly pressing it in.

Both of you shared a moan the moment the tip slipped past your entrance. Pure relief for both of you.

"Yes, oh my god.. yes!" You moaned, leaning your head forward to lean on his shoulder as he slipped every single inch inside, minute by minute, giving you time.

"So good.. I told you you were doing so good.. following instructions.. knew you'd take me phenomenally, oh.." He groaned through every word when his cock was finally fully inside you. Deep, too. So deep.

He moved his hands to hook under your knees, spreading your legs wider and giving him much easier access to thrust in even deeper. This was exactly what he needed after a good workout, some amazing pussy. Yours, specifically.

"Yeah, take me.. I got you this wet, love? Should've just said so, I definitely wouldn't have had an issue doing this way sooner." Dominik growled into your ear, one word every thrust. Not yet erratic, he could keep the edge at bay. He wanted you to cum first, to squeeze around him like you never wanted him to pull out.

His head dipped down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. Soft sucking. Just enough to feel good.

"Yeah, all you.." You moaned. "All you, all you.. fuck! Yes! No one has ever made me feel this hot.." You cried out into his ear, making him whimper.

"Tell me no one has made you feel this good either. Tell me I'm the only one you'll come to for this." Dominik pleaded. Puppy eyes and all.

"Yes, only you! Only you!"

"Thank you, fuck.. thank you.." His thrusts got faster with every praise from you. He was just as happy being told he was doing good as you were.

"Cum for me, baby, please.. let me know I'm fucking you that good."

"Yeah, I'm.. I'm right there, fuck, don't stop." You begged.

"No, I would never.. I would never stop making you feel good.." He blabbered, thrusts losing rhythm because he couldn't hold out having to hear your gorgeous moans, see your gorgeous face contort with pleasure and watch your gorgeous pussy swallow and take every inch of his desperate cock like it was made for him.

Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, you finished around him. A loud breathy moans, your walls squeezing him like you were trying to wring him dry.

He pulled out, painting your thigh with his cum instead, but using his thumb to rub your clit and help you ride through the orgasm with stimulation.

Both of you were exhausted, even more sweat than what you had during working out on your skin. Dominik reached out and hugged you close to him, stepping underneath the water directly to wash you both.

"Hey.." He started after a few minutes. ".. weird question after this, but.. do you.. wanna go on a date with me? Maybe I should've asked you this before we did this, but.." He rubbed the back of his damp neck.

The question made you pause, then burst out laughing. "Of course we can go out.. you owe me round two, don't you?"

"If you want, I'll definitely owe you it." He smiled, stepping out first to bring you your towel before he wrapped his around himself. When you patted yourself completely dry, he helped you back into your panties and reclasped your bra, pressing a kiss to your thigh and shoulder respectively as he did so.

"I think I deserve to have dinner ordered after all this.." You tried your luck. And yet, it worked.

"Of course," Dominik laughed. "What do you wanna eat?" He already handed you his phone to order whatever your heart wanted.

Maybe his training sessions weren't hell on earth when it ended in the best sex you could have ever imagined. And maybe next time when you have another dream about your hot football personal trainer, you could actually call him up and have him recreate it.

After all, you did tell him no one made you feel as good as he did.

afterword : hi! this was a bit too long on the plot part and not long enough on the porn part whoops.... next one will be porn without plot trust me