It starts with a hand around your waist, then you're sitting on his lap, then he's stealing kisses between conversations... Somewhere around the fifth time Jobe tells him to get a room, everyone realizes the alcohol isn't the problem, Jude Bellingham just stopped pretending to have any shame.
WARNINGS ◦ suggestive content, mdni ◦ alcohol use ◦ tipsy & handsy!jude ◦ making out ◦ clingy!jude to an unreasonable degree ◦ poor bellinghams just wanted a peaceful evening ◦ every time i say "this one will be short" i end up writing another domestic manifesto. sorry.
2,452 ━━━━━ drabble jude bellingham x reader
۶ৎ 𝓩 , i genuinely believe tipsy jude would just become a human weighted blanket. this is my evidence. no plot, just jude bellingham forgetting that other people can, in fact, see him. (& lots of making out 😝😝😝)
━━━━━ read on ao3
The villa buzzed with the kind of easy, familiar warmth that only came when the Bellinghams managed to gather everyone in one place. Post-season in Madrid had been a whirlwind—trophies, travel, endless expectations—but tonight the sprawling garden and open living spaces felt like a proper exhale.
Strings of soft lights hung between trees, casting gentle glows over the stone patio where Mark was manning a makeshift grill with the focus of someone who refused to let anyone else touch the meat. Denise moved between the kitchen and garden like the quiet conductor she always was, refilling glasses and laughing at old stories.
Jobe had actually made it over from Germany, sprawled across one of the oversized outdoor sofas with the kind of dramatic exhaustion only a younger brother could pull off. Morgan Rogers and his partner had driven up too, along with a couple of Jude’s closest teammates who had become more like family over the long campaign.
You were in the middle of it all, a glass of wine in hand, moving between groups as the evening stretched. The successful season had left everyone in high spirits, and the celebration felt intimate rather than performative.
Jude had started the night relatively normal, laughing with his dad by the grill, teasing Jobe about his latest training stories, pulling you close for the occasional kiss or hand on your lower back.
But as drinks flowed and the hours passed, the alcohol slowly stripped away his usual careful filter. The version of him that always kept one eye on the room, aware of everyone watching, simply faded. What remained was pure, unfiltered Jude: touch-oriented to an almost comical degree.
He never strayed far. If you wandered into the kitchen to help Denise with more plates, he appeared a minute later, leaning against the counter beside you, fingers absently tracing the hem of your top while he asked what you were doing. If you stepped out to the garden to chat with Morgan’s partner near the flowers, Jude followed shortly after, sliding an arm around your waist as though he’d been there the whole time.
It was never dramatic, he just... gravitated. Like the planet had shifted slightly and you were the new center.
At one point you ended up standing beside the long outdoor sofa, talking with Denise and Morgan’s partner about some upcoming family trip. The conversation flowed easily, laughter rising when Denise recalled a particularly chaotic holiday from years ago.
Jude had been sitting on the sofa listening, or at least pretending to, for a solid thirty seconds. Then, without a word or change in his expression, he reached over, hand settling firmly at your waist. In one smooth, effortless motion he guided you backward and settled you sideways across his lap, your legs draping over his thigh as if it were the most natural seat in the garden.
His arm looped around your back to keep you steady, chin already resting on your shoulder as he picked up the thread of whatever Jobe was saying across from him.
You blinked, half-annoyed, half-amused, twisting in his hold. “Jude,” you said, voice carrying that familiar mix of exasperation. “I was in the middle of a conversation, you know.”
He hummed, eyes still on the group, fingers absently playing with the ends of your hair. “You can talk from here, darling.” His voice was low, warm, completely convinced he was being reasonable. One hand stayed spread across your thigh, thumb tracing slow circles like it was helping him listen better.
Denise let out a bright laugh from her spot on the arm of the sofa, shaking her head. “He’s been like this since forever, but the drink really brings it out.”
Jobe groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes. “For God’s sake, he’s doing it again. Mate, she’s two feet away. Let her breathe.”
Jude blinked, genuinely puzzled, glancing between you and his brother. “What? She’s right here.” His arm tightened just a fraction around you, as if to prove the point.
You rolled your eyes, trying to push off his lap, but he simply adjusted his grip, pulling you back down with that effortless strength.
“Stop moving. You’re comfy.”
The group dissolved into laughter, the kind that came from watching someone they loved be utterly, shamelessly gone. Morgan exchanged a knowing look with his partner, both of them grinning like they’d seen this coming. One of the teammates muttered something about “post-season Jude” under his breath, earning another round of chuckles.
You swatted at Jude’s chest, fighting a smile. “You’re insufferable when you’re like this.”
He just smiled that slow, dopey smile, chin still on your shoulder as he pressed a lazy kiss to the side of your neck. “M’not insufferable, I’m affectionate.” His fingers hooked loosely through one of your belt loops, holding you in place while someone else picked up a new story.
The conversation moved on around you, plates of food passed, glasses refilled, but Jude remained exactly where he was, playing with your fingers, resting his head against yours, stealing small kisses whenever you paused to sip your drink.
Later, when you stood up to grab another bottle of water from the kitchen, he followed without hesitation. “Where you going?” he asked, voice soft as he caught up, two fingers slipping through your belt loop again to keep you close.
“Water, baby. Three metres away.”
He hummed, unconvinced, trailing after you anyway. Inside the kitchen he leaned against the island while you opened the fridge, then reached out and pulled you back against his chest the second you closed the door.
“Missed you,” he murmured, nuzzling into your hair like you’d been gone for hours.
You turned in his arms, laughing despite yourself. “You are ridiculous tonight, William.”
“Am not.” But there was a spark in his eyes now, that playful edge emerging as he realized how much your annoyance entertained him. He dipped his head, kissing you slow and deliberate, then pulled back just enough to grin. “You’re cute when you’re annoyed with me.”
The teasing only got worse after that. Every time you tried to step away to talk to someone else, he’d find a way to reel you back, sometimes with an arm around your shoulders, sometimes by simply patting the spot beside him until you gave in.
At one point, while you were mid-sentence with Jobe about his season, Jude hooked an arm around your waist and tugged you down onto his lap again, chin on your shoulder, completely ignoring the way you swatted at him.
“Jude, I swear—”
“What?” He looked up at you with wide, innocent eyes, the picture of sincerity. “You were standing, now you’re sitting. Better for everyone.”
Jobe made a gagging noise. “He’s actually lost it. Mum, do something.”
Denise just laughed from across the garden, raising her glass. “Leave him be, it’s been a long season.”
The evening carried on like that, warm, overlapping conversations, music drifting through the open doors, plates slowly emptying. Jude remained glued to you in that absentminded way, convinced the whole time that he was acting completely normal.
Only much later, when Mark finally pointed it out directly—“Son, you’ve had Y/N on your lap for forty minutes straight”—did he pause, look down at where you were comfortably settled against him, and blink slowly.
“…Oh.”
A beat of silence. Then he shrugged, pulled you a little closer, and carried on exactly as he was, pressing another lazy kiss to your temple while the laughter erupted around you. You rolled your eyes again, but you were smiling too hard to truly fight it.
The garden lights had softened into a warmer glow as the evening deepened, the sky above the villa shifting from dusky blue to true night. Music still played low from the speakers, but the conversations had grown mellower, voices overlapping less urgently as plates emptied and drinks slowed. People were scattered more loosely now, some clustered near the grill where Mark was finishing the last rounds, others lounging on the sofas with the kind of comfortable fatigue that came from good food and better company.
Everyone was a little buzzed, the successful season’s weight finally lifting in a haze of laughter and easy silences.
You slipped away quietly after a while, telling Denise you just needed to check on something upstairs in one of the guest rooms, a forgotten charger Gio had mentioned earlier. Nothing urgent, but the kind of small task that felt necessary in the middle of a long night.
The villa’s interior was cooler, quieter, the distant hum of the gathering filtering up the wide staircase like background noise. Your bare feet padded softly on the tiles as you made your way down the hallway toward Jude’s bedroom wing, the familiar scent of the house wrapping around you.
You didn’t hear him at first to be honest, then the soft pad of footsteps followed, unhurried but inevitable.
Jude appeared at the top of the stairs a moment later, silhouetted against the warm light from below, his shirt slightly rumpled from the evening’s lounging. He didn’t say anything right away, just closed the distance with that same absentminded pull that had defined the whole night, one hand already reaching for your waist before he’d fully caught up.
“Thought you were just getting water,” he murmured, voice lower now that it was just the two of you, the alcohol still softening his edges.
His fingers spread wide against the small of your back, pulling you gently but firmly against him as you paused in the hallway outside his bedroom door.
You turned in his hold, half-exasperated, half-smiling. “I told you I’d be quick, you didn’t have to follow me all the way up here.”
He hummed, not really listening, his head already dipping to press a slow kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Missed you,” he said simply, like it explained everything.
His hands were everywhere in that lazy, tipsy way—sliding up your sides, one settling at the nape of your neck while the other traced the curve of your hip, tugging you closer until there was no space left between you.
He pulled back just enough to look at you properly, eyes heavy-lidded but bright, a small, dopey smile playing on his lips as he studied your face in the dim hallway light. “You look pretty like this, baby, all soft from the wine.”
You laughed quietly, the sound muffled against his chest as he leaned in again, but he caught your chin gently, tilting your face up so he could kiss you properly. It started slow, familiar, but the alcohol had loosened something in him.
He smiled into it almost immediately, the curve of his mouth unmistakable as he deepened the kiss, one hand threading into your hair while the other slipped under the hem of your top, palm warm against your skin. He tasted faintly of the drinks he’d had downstairs, and when he pulled back for air he didn’t go far, forehead resting against yours, eyes half-closed as he stared at you.
“Seriously,” he murmured, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “How do you always look this good, princess? Even when you’re trying to escape me.” The teasing edge was there, playful and affectionate, but his hands kept moving, tracing your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he backed you gently against the wall beside his bedroom door.
Another kiss followed, slower this time, his body pressing into yours with that natural, unselfconscious need. He smiled again when your fingers tightened in his shirt, nipping lightly at your lower lip before soothing it with another kiss.
“Stay here a minute. Don’t need to go back down yet.”
You tried to protest, half-laughing between kisses. “C'mon, everyone’s still outside—”
“They’re fine,” he whispered against your jaw, lips trailing lower to your neck, hands sliding down to grip your hips as he pressed you more firmly against the wall. His touch was handsy but never rushed, exploring in that tipsy, appreciative way, palms mapping the familiar curves of your body like he was rediscovering them. He pulled back once more to look at you, eyes dark and soft, that wide, genuine smile breaking across his face again. “You’re my favorite person in the whole house right now, don’t leave me alone with them.”
The kiss that followed was deeper, lazier, his body molding against yours as one hand slipped further under your top, thumb stroking along your ribs. He made a quiet, contented sound when you arched into him, smiling into the kiss once more, the expression so purely happy it made your chest tighten.
“Love when you do that,” he murmured, barely pulling away, lips brushing yours with every word. “Makes me forget there’s anyone else here.”
You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, studying the soft, unfocused warmth in his eyes and the way his smile lingered like he couldn’t help it. A soft laugh bubbled out of you, half-amused, half-disbelieving. “You’re so gone, William,” you teased, fingers tracing the line of his jaw as you took him in, the flushed cheeks, the heavy lids, the complete lack of awareness that he was trailing after you like a shadow. “I mean it. I’ve never seen you this far gone. You’re properly out of it tonight, baby.”
He blinked slowly, still smiling that dopey, content smile, like the observation barely registered.
“M’not gone,” he protested softly, but there was no conviction in it. His hands stayed exactly where they were, one slipping higher under your top while the other squeezed your hip, pulling you flush against him again. “Just… happy. With you.”
He leaned in, capturing your lips once more, the kiss slower and deeper this time, his tongue brushing yours in a way that made your knees feel a little weaker. When he pulled back, forehead still pressed to yours, he was staring at you again, really staring, like he was committing every detail to memory in his hazy state.
Downstairs the laughter rose and fell, distant and warm, but up here in the hallway it was just the two of you, Jude’s hands steady and affectionate, his kisses teasing and thorough, the alcohol stripping away any remaining self-consciousness until all that remained was the simple, overwhelming want to keep you close.
He didn’t rush, he just held you there against the wall, kissing you like the rest of the night could wait a little longer, smiling every time you laughed or tried to remind him there were people downstairs waiting.
For now, in this quiet pocket of the villa, you were exactly where he needed you to be.
author's note — if you enjoyed and would like to see more of my football works, click here :DD if you ever catch me writing a non-affectionate jude bellingham, assume i've been hacked lol. love whoever read till here, byeee <3
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warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, teasing, dirty talk, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, hair pulling, face riding, angst, begging
pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader
summary: whatever you had with jude, you’d ended it. it was too much for the both of you, but all of that went out the window the second his match finished.
masterlist
y/n had watched the match, of course she had.
she’d watched jude kick the ball to the back of the net twice in one game, the screams and cheers of the england fans blaring through the tv.
she watched as the interviewer shoved a microphone into his face after the match, asking question after question.
she caught the rasp in his voice after the relentless game, his tired smile that hardly reached his eyes.
it had been over a month since y/n had ended whatever they had going on.
neither of them could put a label on it, really.
no dates, no sweet moments.
just late-night texts, hotel rooms, and sex.
they’d both agreed to stop before someone got their heart broken. that had been the plan anyways.
y/n’s phone buzzed on the table just as she lifted her mug of hot chocolate to her lips. jude.
you watched?
her stomach dropped. she stared at the message for a full minute before she started typing back.
yeah. two goals ain’t so bad.
the typing bubble appeared almost instantly after her message.
come see me.
y/n didn’t respond, staring at the message. she could’ve laughed at the absurdity of the situation. the bubble appeared again.
one drink. that’s all i’m asking.
she should’ve ignored it. instead, forty minutes later, she found herself standing outside the private entrance to the hotel, telling herself she’d leave after ten minutes.
it was just like before.
sneaking into hotel rooms, but this time, she promised herself she wouldn’t succumb to that throb in the pit of her stomach every time he flashed his golden smile.
the walk down the corridor on the sixth floor felt longer than it was.
y/n swallowed, before she lifted her hand, knocking on the door. it swung open almost immediately.
jude leaned against the frame, fresh from a show, hair still damp. a fitted black t-shirt clung to him, sleeves tight round his biceps.
his grey joggers sat low on his hips, and he looked exhausted - though somehow it only made him look better.
his gaze settled on her, slow and deliberate, before a crooked smile tugged at one corner of his mouth.
“knew you’d come,”
“you’re confident,” she moved passed him as he stepped aside.
“nah,” his voice was rough, the rasp from the match still lingering beneath his accent, “just know you,”
y/n walked past him into the suite, catching the clean scent of his shower gel mixed with whatever cologne he always wore.
it was familiar enough to make her chest tighten.
neither of them spoke as jude wandered to the small kitchenette.
“red or white?”
“now you’re a gentleman?”
he laughed, a quiet sound. “don’t push it,”
he reached for a bottle of red, already sitting open on the counter, pouring a generous glass before holding it out to her.
the glass looked tiny in his hand.
“the hotel wine’s crap,” jude said, “but it’ll do,”
their fingers brushed as she took the glass, his gaze lingering on her face.
“you watched the match,”
“i said i did,”
“mm,” he took a sip from his own glass, eyes never leaving hers over the rim, “knew you would,”
“you’ve got an ego,”
“scored twice tonight,” his shrugged, “i’m allowed one,”
her grip tightened around the stem of the wine glass, “i came for one drink,”
“‘course,”
his voice stayed infuriatingly even, that rough edge from the match making every word sound lower than she remembered.
y/n took a slow sip of wine, refusing to look away. she could stand her ground too.
“y’always think y’know what i’m thinking,”
“don’t have to think,” jude set his glass down on the counter with a quiet clink, “i remember,”
“remember what?”
“you,”
the room felt smaller as he took a step closer, not enough to touch, just enough that she caught the warmth radiating off him.
“if you think y’already know how tonight ends-,”
“i know how every other one ended,” he leaned forwards, eyes darkening.
“that was before,” she whispered.
“was it?” jude took another step forward, close enough now that she’d have to tilt her chin to keep his gaze.
she could smell his breath - minty, crisp.
his eyes were darker than she remembered, fixed on hers with the same maddening patience he’d always had.
“you’re trying very hard to convince yourself it was a mistake,” jude said, voice low.
“because it was,”
“then leave,”
he ask it so simply that it caught her off guard.
“door’s right there, darling,”
jude’s eyes flicked to the wine in her hand before settling back on his face. “thought so,”
y/n let our a breath through her nose.
“you’re a prick, jude,”
the corner of his mouth lifted, just barely.
“your prick,”
y/n should’ve rolled her eyes.
should've shoved past him, walked straight back out the door and never looked back.
instead, she closed the gap herself.
their foreheads nearly brushed, and for a second, neither of them moved.
“tell me to stop,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
his hand came up slowly, fingers grazing her jaw with a touch so light it almost wasn't there.
y/n leaned into it before she could stop herself.
that was all he needed.
their mouths met with weeks of restraint behind them - nothing gentle.
the kiss was messy, his hands cupping her face, pulling her impossibly closed as his tongue delved into her mouth, pushing into every corner and crevice.
her hands were pushed flat against his chest, nails dragging over the thin material as she bit down on his bottom lip, swallowing his groan.
jude’s hands dropped from her face, moving down past her chest and to her waist, squeezing at the flesh of her stomach, pulling her even deeper onto his lips.
“jude, fuck,” y/n gasped as his hands dropped down to her thighs, lifting her up and hooking her legs round his waist.
“missed you so fuckin’ much, pretty girl,”
her hands dragged down his chest, tugging on the loose material of his t-shirt.
jude’s lips dragged down her jaw and neck, peppering wet, hot kisses along her skin, walking back towards the bed.
he pulled her down her down against his bulge, half-hard in his joggers, jumping her against it as she moaned.
“don’t do that,” y/n hissed, subconsciously tilting her head to give him better access.
“don’t tell me what to do,” jude rasped, cock twitching in his trousers as he dropped her on the bed.
she bounced once as he stepped back, tossing his t-shirt off quickly.
she watched, eyes tracing every line of his body as he dropped his joggers. no boxers.
“like what you see?”
“fuck off,” y/n rolled her eyes, looking to the mattress instead.
his hand moved to her face, pulling her chin back, gaze fixed on her pretty face.
“keep your eyes on me, alright?”
she nodded.
jude let go of her chin, taking his dick into his hand, pumping himself as he watched her.
he caught the way y/n’s lips parted, staring at his pretty, swollen tip, leaking pre-cum. he spread it over the head, down his shaft, his dick painfully hard.
“c’mere, pretty,”
jude’s hand came to the back of her neck, leading her to sit up, breath hot on his dick.
she wrapped one hand round his shaft, letting jude guide his head onto her tongue.
he bulged inside of her mouth, hot and twitching as he groaned, head leaned back.
the muscles of his neck went taut, lips parted as his hand came to the back of his head. “that’s it baby, suck harder f’me,” he groaned again as she did what she was told.
the room was filled with the wet sounds of her tongue lapping at the vein on the underside of his dick.
“alright, that’s enough,” he pulled out of her mouth, a string of slick salvia and pre-cum connecting her swollen lips to his dick.
“jude,” y/n whined, his voice light and airy as he pushed her down onto the bed.
“get these out my way,” jude pushed her hands down out the way, pulling her legs apart.
there was something so…hot about jude when he manhandled her.
she moaned again as he knelt down, breath hot against her core. his fingers hooked under the waistband of her underwear, yanking them down to her ankles and throwing them off.
“still regret it?” he rasped, her legs over his shoulders, “comin’ all this way?”
y/n shook her head, almost desperate.
“i don’t, please, i d-don’t,”
jude moved forwards, knees pushed right up to her chest, her pussy on show for him.
“so pretty,” he moved forwards, breath ghosting over her before he leaned down, licking a long stripe between her lips.
the moan she let out, a mix of a mewl and a whine, filled his ears as he groaned into her, letting the sound vibrate against her.
his hand came to her stomach, thumb rubbing messy, sloppy circles into her clit as he lapped at her arousal.
“jude, fuck, it’s s’good,”
he hummed, pushing the tip of his long index finger against her hole.
“need to open you up to fit me,” he murmured, pumping in and out of her as she moaned.
that was one thing about jude bellingham.
he was big, he knew it, and he had no problem in reminding y/n every time he opened her up for him.
“tastes even better than before,” he added another finger, doing a scissoring motion inside of her as he lapped at her juices, “tastes like heaven,”
jude held her legs apart so she couldn’t hide either, lapping at her sweet pearl.
the third finger hurt, but he made it work, inching into her tight hole.
“been so long since we last did this,” he watched as his fingers pumped in and out of her, “y’sure you can still take it?” his voice was challenging and low.
“it’s not as big as you think,”
yes, it was a lie, but his ego was insane.
and then- thwack!
“jude!”
his hand came down in a slap, not too hard, right against her sensitive cunt as he pulled his dripping fingers out.
“mm?” he cocked his head, false innocence all over his face as he pushed one finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue round it, lapping up her sweet juices, before moving onto the next.
the sight was downright sinful.
“stop being an ass,” she pushed herself up, legs dropping back down, “or i swear, i’ll walk right out this-,”
“you won’t,”
y/n blinked up at him, his middle finger still in his mouth.
“y’know you won’t, don’t act thick,”
his stupid accent was maddening.
jude pulled his finger out of his mouth with a wet, slick pop, hands moving to her waist to pull her down the bed, bending her over the edge.
“just do what you do best and take my cock, okay?”
y/n scowled at that.
“takin’ it from the back so you don’t have to see my face?”
jude stopped at that. god, y/n was going to be the death of him.
“just. stop. talking,” he pushed her down onto the bed, her chest pressed to the mattress, skirt bunched up over her waist as he pushed his tip between her lips.
“well-,”
his large hand reached round her, two long, thick fingers pushing into her mouth and pressing down on her tongue as she gagged.
that was one way to make her stop.
“you’re so fuckin’ annoying sometimes,”
jude guided his head into her, her moans muffled as he pushed one finger against her warm, wet tongue.
as soon as he had enough of him inside her, he pulled on her waist, inching into her hot pussy.
their moans complimented each other, ringing loud in the room, jude’s head thrown back.
his dick inched into her, filling her to the brim.
“jude, wait-,” y/n gasped, voice muffled into the duvet, his cock half buried inside her warm cunt.
“‘s alright, you can take it,” he pushed down on her tongue again, rocking his hips gently back and forth, each thrust getting longer and deeper.
“so tight, fuck,” jude groaned, pulling his fingers from her mouth to push down her head.
he kept his rhythm til his tip slammed into her cervix, setting a quick, deep pace in and out of her.
the room was filled with the lewd sounds of skin on skin and their moans, mixed together.
“fuck- yes, yes, yes-,” y/n gasped, his hips snapping against her ass.
it felt like he was splitting her in half on his dick, her body burning with pleasure.
his hands moved down her body, grabbing her waist to pull her hard against him.
“missed you so fuckin’ much,” jude rasped, slamming into her, “that pretty face, those gorgeous little moans,”
his hand came to her hair, pulling her head up, his lips against her ear.
“every time i’d finish a match, y’know who i’d be thinkin’ about, hm?”
he gave her hair another soft tug, making her moan as he slammed into her again.
“m-me!” y/n gasped, lips parted in pleasure.
“you,” jude whispered, voice low and deep, “just thinkin’ about makin’ sweet, sweet love to my girl,”
y/n moaned as he angled his hips so he could slam into that spot that made her whine louder, a pretty, lewd sound.
“c’mere,” she felt jude’s big arms round her middle, pulling out of her for a split second before he turned her round and buried his cock back into her pussy, holding her up with his arms.
a muscle in his jaw ticked as he held her, their chests pressed together, her legs wrapped round his waist.
“takin’ me so well, pretty,” he groaned into her ear, jumping her up and down on his cock, her nails dragging down his biceps.
“jude, ‘m so close, please,” y/n gasped, cheek on his shoulder.
“i know, love,” he swallowed, “me too,”
his dick slammed into her sweet spot, once, twice-
y/n felt her whole body let go, shuddering as her orgasm ripped through her, vision going white.
jude fucked her through her orgasm, peppering wet, hot kisses down her neck and chest.
he groaned, biting down into her neck as he finished, face flushed, his thick, hot cum spurting inside of her.
“fuck,”
his softening dick twitched inside of her for a second as he held her, legs slightly shaky, her nails buried into his biceps.
“…y’alright?”
y/n nodded against his shoulder as he swayed gently from side to side, pulling out of her softly.
she could feel a mix of her juices and his cum dribbling down her thigh as he rocked her gently, walking back towards the bed.
jude was surprisingly gentle as he put her down on the bed, grabbing a towel from the side and gently wiping away the remnants of their activities.
“can do it myself,” she mumbled, reaching for the towel.
“don’t,” he moved his hand away, “it’s alright, okay? i can do it,”
it felt this every time. the sex was otherworldly and afterwards she just felt…emptier than before.
like their bodies were addicted to each other but their hearts? nothing.
“‘m gonna shower,” jude moved back, tossing the towel into the laundry basket, “coming?”
god, every time that happened, it ended the same.
they’d end up tangled together, y/n on her knees in the shower, or jude with a leg hooked over his shoulder, tongue lapping at her pussy.
“i’m alright,” she swallowed, pushing her skirt back down and stepping back into her underwear.
jude nodded.
every night went the same; sex in the room, sex in the shower, then ending up tangled asleep together.
y/n didn’t know if her heart could handle it this time.
she was a mess, her makeup (which she may have spend a few extra minutes on) messy from tears, her hair dishevelled from being pulled.
after his shower, jude swallowed.
he looked at the mirror. he looked fresh, in nothing but joggers now.
his broad chest was shining from the shower and post-sex glow, joggers hung low on his hips.
he’d spent the whole shower thinking about her, and he’d finally planned what he wanted to say. how he wanted to tell her that he wanted more.
that he wanted to date her, and spoil her, and love her.
that he’d always wanted that, but he’d been scared to tell y/n, so he settled on…whatever they had now.
with a sigh, he opened the bedroom door. he’d just blurt it out, and hope it made sense.
he loved her.
but when he opened the door?
y/n was gone.
jude stepped out the bathroom, towelling his hair dry with one hand.
“y/n?”
silence.
a small front tugged at his brows.
he let the towel fall around his neck, eyes scanning the suite. the television was off, muted.
her wine glass sat abandoned on the coffee table, a faint lipstick mark staining the rim.
jude wandered further into the room, expecting to find her curled beneath the duvet as he’d found her many times before, phone in hand like usual.
instead, it was empty.
her shoes were gone, so was her bag. she’d even fixed up the bedsheets slightly.
jude stopped in the middle of the room.
he reached for his phone almost absentmindedly, opening his chat with y/n, before he paused.
his thumb hovered over the keyboard.
you alright?
he deleted it. sounded too lazy.
where’d you go?
delete. too accusatory.
you get home okay?
send. the message delivered instantly.
he tossed his phone onto the bed, convincing himself he wasn’t waiting for the three little dots to appear. she’d reply, she always did.
five minutes. that was how long jude lasted.
he flipped the phone over with one finger, eyeing the chat quietly, as if someone could be looking and would make fun of how desperate he was.
nothing.
ten, fifteen, twenty minutes later - still nothing.
jude felt a muscle in his jaw tighten, she’d never left like that before. without a sarcastic ‘thanks’ or staying to cuddle.
his phone buzzed.
his heart jumped in his chest embarrassingly fast.
yeah.
jude stared at the text, as if looking would make it form a longer sentence, instead of the one cold, mocking word across his screen.
the bathroom was quiet, almost too quiet.
jude sat on the edge of the bathtub, his injured leg stretched out in front of him as he carefully cleaned around the cut.
the cotton bud was already stained red after a few seconds of being pressed to the cut.
he didn’t even look at it, tossing it into the bin.
the match had been intense, he’d gotten man of the match, a goal and an assist - his peak ended by a boot to the thigh.
jude remembered the times before.
he remembered when he’d dominated his last match, and y/n had shown up at his door with the excuse of giving him a taste of what it felt like to be a champion.
what a night that had been.
normally, this was the part where he’d call her, and she’d respond with ‘i’m already on my way, jude’.
his phone was sitting beside him on the counter.
he hadn’t even realised he’d picked it up until her name was already on the screen, the green call button staring back at him, mocking him, taunting him.
his thumb hovered over it. he could almost hear her voice already.
jude swallowed. one tap, that was all, one tap and she’d answer.
one tap and for a few minutes, he could pretend everything was normal.
pretend he hadn’t spent the last month convincing himself that losing her was easier than admitting he wanted more.
but then he remembered the way y/n had left before even saying goodbye.
like she was trying so hard to get away from him.
his thumb moved away. no. he couldn’t do that, not to her.
jude turned his phone off, and then back on again. maybe a text, something simple.
he typed.
got hurt tonight.
no, it sounded like an excuse.
you awake?
delete.
i miss you.
his chest tightened.
jude’s finger hovered over the send button, and for a moment, he let himself imagine sending it, imagining her replying.
he imagined those days before when he’d messaged her those three words, and she’d appear at his door and let the night take them wherever.
but he didn’t send it.
missing her wasn’t the same as deserving her.
jude stared at the empty message box until his eyes started burning, before he typed simply:
hope you’re okay.
a pathetic substitute for everything he actually wanted to say.
delete.
jude hadn’t meant to find it. that was the worst part.
he’d only been looking for his keys, half asleep as he searched beside the sofa, when his fingers brushed against something soft.
a hoodie.
his hoodie.
more specifically, the oversized black one that fit him snugly, but dwarfed her; the one y/n would choose everytime she wanted something to wear after they’d slept together.
for a second, he just stared at it.
it was soft, and still held the scent of her perfume.
he imagined the gentle material draped over her body, every curve and dip and soft part of her body covered with it, like a warm embrace.
it was ridiculous how quickly his chest tightened.
it wasn’t anything special, just an old hoodie she’d stopped using.
he could remembered wearing it too.
curled up on the sofa after training, on his phone, wondering when y/n would get round so she could snatch it off of him.
jude hated it.
he hated how he missed late nights.
he hated how he missed having someone beside him.
he missed the small things, the boring things, the things he’d never thought twice about because he was so sure they’d always be there.
he hated that he remembered all the domestic moments, knowing he’d only used y/n for sex.
jude opened his phone before he had fully decided what he wanted to do.
text her? call her? look through videos they’d filmed at 3am, post-sex?
and suddenly, there it was, on his screen.
y/n’s address.
he’d saved it months back, when y/n showing up after training at his house was a new thing.
he’d never actually been, though.
before he could talk himself out of it, he dropped the hoodie down, and grabbed his jacket.
the rain started halfway through the drive to y/n’s apartment.
at first, jude barely, noticed.
the roads were blurred beneath the headlights, his hands tight around the steering wheel as if every thought he’d been trying to push away for weeks was all coming back at once.
he’d told himself he was giving her space.
that was what he called it, anyways.
space.
like he hadn’t caught himself checking his phone after every match hoping her name would appear.
like he hadn’t opened their chat more times than he could count, staring at the empty text box and wondering how three simple words could feel so impossible to send.
i miss you.
that was all, three words. somehow, they feel like admitting defeat.
by the time jude pulled up outside her apartment, the rain was heavier.
it soaked through his jacket almost instantly as he stood there, stared up at the building.
leaving would be the sensible thing to do.
he should get back in his car, drive home, and pretend he hadn’t spent the entire journey thinking of how he’d tell her how he truly felt.
his hand hovered over the buzzer. for a moment, he just stood there.
jude bellingham was used to pressure.
thousands of people watching him, millions expecting him to perform - but this? it was different.
no crowd to impress, no teammates, no excuse.
just him, standing outside the door of the person he’d spent months convincing himself he didn’t need.
he pressed the buzzer.
when the door opened, everything he’d planned disappeared.
y/n pulled it open, and he froze. god, he’d forgotten how much seeing her could hurt.
she was dressed in nothing but a fluffy white robe, skin glowing from doing her skincare, hair wet from a shower.
she smelt like roses, she looked like a dream.
her eyes moved over him. and what a contrast jude was.
rain dripped from his hair, he had dark circles under his eyes from not being able to sleep, he was swaying from side to side slightly.
“jude?” her voice was quiet as she said his name, tentative, as if saying it too loud could make him disappear.
“i know,” the words formed before he could fully think about what he wanted to say, “i know i shouldn’t be here,”
y/n’s eyebrows pulled together. the confidence he usually radiated in sickening amounts was gone.
“i know turning up at your door is a bit shit,” jude paused, “but i didn’t know where else to go,”
y/n looked at him silently, her expression unreadable. jude hated that. he used to be able to tell how she felt almost immediately, he used to know.
“i tried texting you,” he forced himself to speak, stringing together his thoughts, “so many times,” a small, humourless laugh.
“typed out things and delete them cuz they sounded stupid,”
the rain fell harder behind him, almost taunting how pathetic he sounded.
he dragged a hand down his face. “wanted to tell you last time,” he swallowed, “came out the shower, i was gonna ask y’to stay,”
“i’ve stayed round hundreds of times, jude,”
“it’d be different,” jude’s eyes widened, “not for sex, just…to talk,”
“about?”
his shoulders fell slightly. “i don’t know,”
a heavy silence filled the space between them both.
“come inside,”
his gaze snapped up, almost embarrassingly fast, onto her. the sympathy was almost embarrassing, the way she looked at him like he was…pathetic.
“what?”
“you’ll catch your death standing out there,” y/n and already turned, pushing the door open for him.
the warmth of the apartment hit him almost immediately. it smelt like roses and vanilla, something sweet lingering from a candle burning quietly in the corner.
y/n disappeared for a moment before returning with a towel, holding it out to him without a word.
he took it carefully, mumbling a small, ‘thanks’.
the silence between them felt heavier than the rain outside.
jude rubbed the towel through his hair absentmindedly, watching droplets fall to the wooden floor, before he stopped.
“i’ll mop it later,” y/n murmured quietly, “i can make you tea?”
“you don’t have to,”
he watched as she shrugged, and just went anyways.
it struck him how she’d always looked after him, not because she had to, but because she wanted to.
and he’d spent months taking that love with both hands, whilst convincing himself that giving it back would ruin everything.
when y/n came back, she placed the mug carefully onto the coffee table before sitting onto the sofa, her own mug between her hands.
she left the space next to her open, but instead, he moved to the carpet in front of her, on his knees.
“jude,”
he ignored the sigh in y/n’s voice, gently taking the mug from her hands, and placing it on the coffee table behind him.
“i’ve been miserable,” jude sighed, a humourless laugh escaping him, “i thought it’d get easier, thought that after a few weeks, i’d stop reaching for my phone,”
“still do,” he continued, “after every match, every bit of good news,”
“i don’t want it to be just sex,” she whispered.
“i don’t either,” he pushed himself up onto his heels, “i spent days wondering why y’left, til i realised i gave you no reason to stay,”
y/n closed her eyes briefly.
“i left because staying was breaking my heart,”
jude looked up at her, truly looked at her face.
the weeks of hurt, pain, heartbreak.
“stayed wondering if you were ever gonna ask. wondering if you’d ever take me on a real date, or if it really was all just sex. but you never did,” she turned her head.
“i wanted to,” jude spoke, voice quiet.
“but you didn’t,”
“i was scared,”
“so was i,”
the room fell quiet, and y/n looked down at him, on his knees before her.
“it hurt,” y/n swallowed, pushing back tears that she knee were close.
“i’m sorry,”
she wiped her eyes, almost angrily.
“i love you,” jude’s confession came quietly, not dramatic or rehearsed, “i think i loved you long before i knew what to do with it,”
y/n didn’t say anything, her gaze fixed on his.
jude’s eyes were deeper than she’d remembered, or maybe she’d never had the opportunity to look at him truly.
his lips were parted, chin tilted up to look at her, hands on her knees. she could feel his warm breath across her bare thighs, her skin hot under his hands.
“i love you too,”
y/n’s own response was quiet, so quiet, she was half amazed he’d heard it.
“i don’t wanna ruin it,” jude swallowed, pressing a soft, tentative kiss on one of her thighs, “is this okay?”
her breath hitched at the contact, before she nodded.
her words still rang out in his ears; “i love you too” - as his lips dragged along her thigh.
y/n swallowed, a lump forming in her throat.
jude’s hands nudged her thighs apart, holding them away as he trailed hot kisses along her skin.
they got messier the higher he went, wet and sloppy, sucking deep purple bruises into her skin, before he’d go over them with his tongue.
hearing her soft, high-pitched moan for the first time in weeks after he sucked a pretty mark into her skin was like heaven.
she was so responsive, wriggling, thighs instinctively trying to close as he travelled higher.
he sucked bruise after bruise along her soft skin, soothing the sharp bites with his tongue after, lips glossy and swollen from his own salvia.
“need you s’bad,” jude pulled y/n forwards as she gasped, seating her right at the edge of the sofa.
her soft, white bathrobe covered the sweetest parts of her body, the bow tied in the middle almost teasing him.
“can i?”
“please,”
jude kept his hands on her thighs, pulling the loose end with his teeth and letting the material fall away.
she could feel her face burn as he froze, moving back to admire her.
“jude,” she whined, cheeks burning as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, “don’t stare,”
“can’t help it,” jude pushed himself forwards slightly, taking her boobs into his hands, kneading at the supple flesh as he caught her lips in a kiss.
the kiss was laced with the need of weeks of being apart, his tongue pushing past her lips almost immediately, their lips moving in tandem as he squeezed at her, hands trailing over every inch of her body.
“let me make y’feel good, alright?” jude pulled back, still on his knees in front of her.
y/n nodded.
he started gentle at first.
his breath was hot against her core, before he leaned down, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss right where she needed him.
y/n’s head tipped back immediately, her hands finding his hair as she moaned, eyes fluttering closed.
“oh fuck,”
it felt almost like jude was rediscovering what made her feel good, the movements that made her whine, what made her moan and what made her cry out.
he kept his hands on her thighs, tight, so she didn’t wriggle out of place as she leaned back, head amongst the cushions.
“jude, ah- fuck, right there,”
y/n moaned as he traced circles round her clit with his tongue, her arousal collecting on the tip of his tongue.
jude responded to her moan with a low groan, letting the sound vibrate through her pussy, his tongue gliding through her lips.
“tastes s’good,” he mumbled into her thigh.
fuck, she shouldn’t have made the mistake of looking down.
jude was definitely a sight to look at.
eyes darker than usual, a mix of her slick and his salvia dribbling down his chin, his lips swollen and glossy.
she could’ve finished just looking at him.
jude moved back between her legs, tongue pushing and prodding at her sweet hole as she moaned.
“jude, fuck,” y/n moaned again, her words slurred, “yes, yes, yes-,”
he moved further up so he could press her knees to her chest, exposing more of her to him.
“what a beautiful sight,” jude groaned, more to himself than her, his accent thick as he stared down at her, leaning down to press a hot kiss to her clit.
y/n responded with a mix of a whine and a gasp.
“y’like it there, don’t you?” he moved his thumb onto her clit, rubbing soft, gentle circles right where she needed him.
she moaned again, his thumb pressing down harder.
“don’t you?” jude repeated the two words again as she nodded, frantic.
it felt so good.
“it does, it does,” she squeaked, “jude, please,”
“tell me what you want,” he held her legs apart, resisting her instincts to close them, “and i’ll give it to you,”
“you,” the end of her word melted into a moan as he pressed down on her clit, “your tongue- your mouth, anything,”
jude hummed.
he wasn’t in the mood for teasing, not today.
“alright, pretty,”
it was like something had activated inside of him, his tongue flicking against her clit desperately, lips moving against her pussy lips.
“jude-!” y/n gasped, eyes rolling back at the pressure on her sensitive clit, “fuck, oh my god-!”
he only responded with soft hums to her moans and whines, her hips bucking against her face.
jude didn’t stop her either, pushing down further into her pussy so she could rub against him, his nose nudging her clit with every desperate twitch of her hips.
what a sight to behold, as well.
y/n looked gorgeous, using his face to make herself feel good, his tongue lapping at her with newfound desperation.
“oh fuck, right there,” she moaned, head thrown back.
her juices were dripping out of her, between her legs onto the sofa, but jude didn’t care.
if anything, he was making it worse.
“im s’close, fuck, jude, ‘m gonna finish-,” she rambled, words a mess.
all sense of communication had left her body at that moment, her brain like mush at the feeling of his tongue working so well against her.
“ohmygod- fuck-,”
he let go of her thighs, letting her clamp round his head tight, her hand pushing his head against her as she finished, hips bucking wildly against his face.
jude stayed where he was right until y/n released him, her chest rising and falling fast, her eyes dazed.
she looked ethereal, head laid against the pillows, her arousal and his salvia all down her thighs, glossed over the love bites he’d left.
oh, and his face?
covered.
his lips were swollen and glossy, bits of her arousal clinging to his eyelashes, his nose wet, cheeks smeared with her juices.
and jude didn’t mind one bit.
he pushed himself forwards, peppering soft, gentle kisses along her thighs, her stomach, her chest, all the way to her neck, pausing at her face.
“y/n?”
she hardly responded.
he tapped a finger against her cheek softly, voice quiet.
“still with me?”
it took a second for her to register what he was asking, nodding slowly.
jude’s hand cupped her face, tilting her towards him. she looked like she was in a state of bliss, her own lips red from biting them.
his thumb brushed up and down against her cheek, staying with her as she came down her high.
it wasn’t until y/n’s hand came to his own face, shakily wiping a smudge of her arousal from his cheek, that jude was content with her being okay.
“feeling okay?”
“why didn’t y’do that when we was fuckin’ before?” y/n’s words were slurred.
jude laughed, a soft, quiet sound.
“what, eat you out? or look after you?”
“…both,”
“good questions,” he thought for a second, “probably cuz i was a self-centred prick who didn’t care much for makin’ you feel good,”
y/n giggled at that.
“and,” he continued, “same reason for not looking after you. i was a dick,”
her finger game up to his face, tracing his jaw.
“i made a mess,”
“you did,” jude hummed, “don’t mind though,”
he looked down at the sofa between her legs, “i might’ve done that, though,”
y/n hummed, still too out of it to register the slick down her thighs, dripping into a puddle between her thighs.
“what about a cold shower then we can clean up?” jude stood up.
y/n let out a noise, a ‘yes’, by the sounds of it, as he leaned down, lifting her, bridal style, into his arms.
“geez, take me on a date first,” she slurred, “first door on the left,” y/n directed him to the bathroom.
jude laughed at the absurdity of her statement, carrying her to the bathroom, and sitting her on the edge of the bath.
she watched quietly as he stripped, before he held out his hand, leading her into the shower.
the cool water fell over both of them as he pulled y/n into him, his arm round her waist.
“tomorrow,” he said, voice low, “we’ll make this proper, alright? i’ll make y’feel like the prettiest girl in the world,”
y/n nodded.
maybe giving into their feelings wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
synopsis: the release of your boyfriend's skims ad had you obsessed to say the least. you've lost count of how many times you've watched the video over and over again. it was supposed to stay your dirty little secret, one that you were willing to take to the grave, but unfortunately for you, your boyfriend came home early from practice and walked in on you fanning out.
content: fluff, 18+ mdni, suggestive (no smut), dry humping, make out session, no use of y/n, use of pet names, established relationship, they match each other's freak.
word count: 2.4k
a/n: wrote this before the world cup 😬 but i'm cleaning out my drafts. yall might've moved on from that skims comercial but i'm still at the restaurant!! not proof read, hope you enjoyed!
“everybody’s wearing skims”
you giggled to yourself for what felt like the hundredth time today. instinctively, you clicked replay on the video so that you could start giggling all over again. if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought this ad went on for hours with how long you’d been watching it, but no it was only 12 seconds long. it was safe to say you were maybe…just a tad bit obsessed.
but how could you not be?
the way jude spoke in his midlands accent, juggling the ball between his legs in nothing but a pair of skims boxers, practically seducing the camera with his stunning looks as the camera kept panning up and down his body...god, he was just so—
you let out a sigh. you took a second to glance at the bedroom door. you knew jude was supposed to be at practice right now, so there was no way he’d catch you watching his old advertisement, but you could never be too sure. this was supposed to be your dirty secret, one you were planning on taking to the grave. you didn’t want anyone—especially not jude—to know that in your free time, you thirsted over your own boyfriend’s videos. sometimes, you felt more like a dedicated fan rather than an actual girlfriend. it was embarrassing to say the least, but you couldn’t help yourself. he just looked so fucking good, you didn’t know how to resist his charms!
you thought about it for a second, wondering if you should just stop right now and do something more productive with your day. maybe you could clean or finish that book you were supposed to be reading or…
you pressed the reply button again, letting the music start up again. all you could do is kick your feet and squeal. you rolled around in you and jude’s shared bed, giggling to yourself like a maniac.
it was all fun in games until the door to the bedroom flew open. had you not been squealing like a school girl, you probably would’ve realized a car was pulling up in the driveway. if you hadn’t been kicking your feet, blushing at your boyfriend over and over again, you would’ve heard the footsteps of someone coming up the stairs. and if you hadn’t been watching that fucking skims ad, you would’ve realized that 15 minutes ago, jude had texted you, letting you know that practied ended early and he was coming straight home.
“what are you doing, love?” the sudden sound of someone else’s voice mad you jump, practically falling off the bed and dropping your phone on the floor. before you could even attempt to come up with a decent excuse, the video started playing again.
that voice that you were fawning over just two seconds ago made you cringe. your face twisted in embarrassment and your cheeks quickly started heating up. gosh, you wanted to crawl in a hole and die.
“i can explain, i swear—” you attempted to do some damage control, but to no avail.
“is that…?” jude cut you off, his face morphing into one of genuine confusion.
you were frozen in place, not knowing what to do. you silently pleaded for some kind of way out from this completely embarrassing situation, but your prays went unanswered. instead, jude simply moved away from the door and further into your shared bedroom. casually, as if he didn’t just catch you watching his old underwear ad, jude walks over to you. you don’t know what to say. you keep attempting to come up with sort of justification for getting caught red handed, but no words would come out of your mouth.
jude picked up your phone from the ground, turning it over to confirm his suspicions. staring back at him was him from two years ago, dressed in nothing but skims boxers, holding a soccer ball. he raised an eyebrow at the video and he couldn’t help but laugh.
you let out a groan, slapping your hands over your face to cover yourself from his teasing gaze. you felt so humiliated, but clearing that was amusing to jude, because he just breaks out into a louder fit of laughter.
this was really the worst case scenario. you already felt like such a pervert, drooling over your own boyfriend like he was some fantasy character, and you knew that if anyone found out about your guilty pleasure, they'd probably judge you. but this? him walking in on you, catching you red handed like this? he would probably think you’re so weird or obsessed with him.
you wanted to go back in time to 10 minutes ago and tell yourself to turn the damn video off and do something productive with your day, but now it was too late. the two of you were kind of in a silent stand off, both of you struggling to come up with something to say to the other, but unfortunately jude found his voice first
“how many times have you watched this, anyways?” he asked, feigning genuine curiosity.
you hesitated to respond, you didn't want to tell the truth, but you also knew you were a terrible liar, and jude would clock you instantly. slowly, you removed your hands from your face, bracing yourself for the conversation you didn't want to have at all.
“like once…” your voice cracked and it was unnaturally high pitched.
he gave you a knowing look.
“okay a couple of times…” you couldn’t even meet his gaze fully.
he continued to stare at you, silently judging you for trying to lie straight to his face.
“fine—okay, a lot of time. happy?” you let out a groan, annoyed with how quickly he could get the truth out of you.
you decided to surrender. there was no reality where you could honestly get away with this. you know what he saw and he knows what he saw, which was you being a little weirdo while he wasn't here.
“i thought you were at practice,” you tried to defend yourself again, though your attempt was pretty weak.
“it ended early today. i texted you to let you know i was on my way home…” jude paused, stifling a chuckle, “...but i guess you were too busy to read my text message.”
your face was on fire at this point. you cringed even harder, while jude just bursted out laughing again, as if he had just told the funniest joke known to mankind—which he didn't. god, you wanted to punch him in his perfectly perfect face.
“it's really not what you think,” you mumbled out.
jude didn't even know why you were even still bothering to defend yourself at this point, but it was funny to watch, so he decided to play along for a bit longer.
“oh really?” jude smiled, covering his mouth so that he could keep some of his composure.
you tried stammering something close to justification, but the only thing that you managed to say was “it’s not like that” a couple of times before you gave up completely. jude could only pretend not to laugh.
if he was being honest, he didn’t really care at all. if anything, he actually found it amusing that you would actually watch his old ads. not even he bothered watching any of them. honestly, he completely forgot about the commercial almost immediately after he filmed it, but clearly it wasn’t the same for you.
if anything, he took this as a compliment. his girlfriend thought he was so attractive, she wanted to watch him over and over again. it was an ego boost and he was willing to admit it was pretty fucking hot too. which is why he wanted to continue indulging in this conversation despite your obvious shame.
“so you weren't in here drooling over videos of me?” jude snickered.
you didn't think it was possible, but in one quick instant, he was able to suck the air from out of your lungs. jude decided that he wanted to have this conversation as close to you as humanly possible, so he walked over to you, placing his hands on your thighs. your eyes shot down to your lap, unable to look away from the sight of his veiny hands basically engulfing your thighs.
usually, that was enough to send you over the edge and get you flustered, but jude decided to push you further. he leaned in even closer so that his nose was almost brushing against yours. finally, you looked up to meet his gaze and you instantly regretted it.
the way jude was looking at you was enough to stop your heart for a moment. it was intense to say the least, like he was looking into your soul. it was all too much for you, so you tried to scoot away and create some distance between you two, but jude continued to hold you in place.
“i don't know why you're acting so shy now. you seemed to be enjoying yourself just a couple of minutes ago,” jude grabbed yourself chin in between his fingers.
he was right. you didn't even know why you were so embarrassed, but you couldn't help feeling cringed out by your own behavior. as a result, you ended up missing out on the signals jude was sending your way right now. jude tilted his head and on instinct, your eyes flickered down to his lips.
you swallowed a lump in your throat, forcing yourself to reply, although you were mostly focused on the shape of his lips, how soft they would feel against your own, and how…you almost forgot what you were supposed to be talking about.
“i guess i just feel a little guilty about…”
“guilty? what for?” he cut you off again, this time seeming genuinely surprised by your reasoning. “you haven’t done anything.”
his statement made you relax just a little bit. at least he didn’t find you as creepy as you found yourself. though, you still had that lingering feeling of utter humiliation that getting caught provided.
“i just didn’t want you to find out this way, it’s so embarrassing,” you muttered, biting your lip slightly.
“it’s flattering,” he corrected you with a cheeky smile.
“for you. for, me it’s embarrassing.”
jude shook his head. obviously, him trying to reason with you with words was pointless, so he was going to do the next best thing. he still had a stern grip on your chin, and he used that to advantage, bringing you in closer so that he could kiss you. your eyes widened in shock before you surrendered almost immediately, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch. you wrapped your arms around his neck as he fell forward to deepen the kiss, using the bed to catch him.
you pulled him back and he happily obliged, so that he was fully laying on top of you instead of standing up. jude’s hands went from the bed to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him. his tongue grazed your bottom lip and immediately, you got the message, opening your mouth to give him full access and he took the opportunity to explore every inch of mouth. you wrap your legs around jude’s waist, causing him to let out a surprised groan. suddenly, he was trapped, but it’s not like he was complaining. without realizing it, you slowly started grinding up against his legs, causing jude to pull away.
“you’re making me lose my mind here,” he huffed out, still trying to catch his breath.
“i can’t help it,” you giggled, already moving in, so that you could carry on kissing him.
he pulled back again, continuing to speak, “you have absolutely no idea what you do to me…” his grip on your waist somehow grew tighter and you already knew you’d be waking up with some sort of mark tomorrow morning.
“i like seeing how into me you are.”
“what—does that turn you on or something?” you raised an eyebrow at him.
“a lot, actually,” he confessed, “it makes me feel relieved knowing i’m not the only one in this relationship completely obsessed.”
you let out a laugh, which is quickly engulfed by jude’s mouth as he goes back to kissing you. you let out a satisfied moan as the two of you go back to mixing each other's spit against each other’s tongues, silently battling for dominance.
this time, it’s jude whose hips involuntarily jerk up against yours, causing you to gasp at the feeling of the obvious tent in his pants, but you don’t think about it for long before you go back to grinding against him.
the feeling is euphoric. despite the barrier of clothes stopping the two of you from reaching absolute pleasure, you still felt bliss. you were thankful that your moans were being muffled by your makeout session, otherwise you would’ve been embarrassed by all the sounds you were making. your hands moved down to his back, scratching against his practice tracksuit as you start to feel that familiar damping of your underwear, the longer you grind against him, fused with the feeling of the constant throbbing clit every time he accidentally hits the right spot.
you broke the kiss to let out a whimper, “now you're the one torturing me.”
jude grinned down at you, his breath shaking just as much as yours, “now we’re even then.”
“well i don't want to be even,” you huffed out grabbing him by his shirt collar, “i want to be satisfied.”
“oh—got it. understood,” he nodded slowly, slightly surprised by your demeanor after you had spent the last couple of minutes rolling around in embarrassment.
he only allowed your request to stun him for a second before he was all over you, kissing your neck, behind your ear, under your jaw, everywhere. the feeling of his lips pressed against you, finding the perfect spots was enough to make your toes curl and for you to let out another string of soft moans.
before you could process anything, jude’s hands were trailing down from your waist to your thighs, pushing you further onto the bed and spreading your legs further apart. for a second time you pulled away from him, leaving a trail of saliva to connect the two of you. jude looked genuinely perplexed, but you ignored him.
“totally unrelated, but do you think that you could juggle a soccer ball for me a couple of times…i just want to see something real quick,” you asked, any shame you had before, completely leaving your body.
jude’s jaw fell open before he burst out laughing, shaking his head and letting it fall onto your shoulder. he was both stunned and amused by your audacity.
“yeah, i think i’ll be able to work something out for you.” he laughed again, continuing with his antics against your neck.
good graces — ⋆.˚𖦹
ju. bellingham x popstar!reader
synopsis ; during her london residency, a pop star makes tradition of arresting celebrities for being too hot. jude bellingham, who has seen the videos and knows exactly what happens to the people she picks out of the crowd, is certain he can avoid becoming tonights victim. unfortunately for him, she spots him anyway.
warnings ; sexual innuendos/ jokes ⋆ kinda bad writing (spare me its my first post on tumblr lol)
the energy inside the O2 was electric. london’s biggest arena stretched out before you, brimming with fans dressed in pastels, sequins, and glitter, their voices rising above the music as they sang your own lyrics back to you. the stage shifted with every song, bathed in bright pinks and warm, vivid colours as you initially rushed onto it at the beginning of the show, before sinking into deeper, moodier hues of blues and purples for a handful of b-side tracks that had the crowd screaming in joy-stricken shock. through it all, the flashy smile on your face never faltered. the exhilaration was genuine, the feeling of being onstage still just as overwhelming as it had always been. there was nowhere else you would rather be.
by the time the sun had fallen, washing london in darkness and shadows, the focus of your show had shifted to its next segment. you paced around the mainstage, the backup dancers who felt more like family than colleagues now trailing behind you in a series of rehearsed slides and twirls. one held a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs, another twirled a strand of hair around her pointer finger, each of them playing their parts as you fanned yourself dramatically and sashayed towards tonight’s victim of what some called the highlight of the show; the celebrity arrests.
“woah—someone, can we get a spotlight over here?” you gasp into your bejewelled microphone, the trio made up of you and two of your backup dancers making your way down the aisle of the stage as a siren begins to go off and red and blue lights flash around you in imitation of police cars. you come to a stop once you’re right in front of him, jude bellingham, who looks around himself in utter surprise as he stands alone between the barricade and the stage.
the crowd beyond you and him erupts, a roar that only grows louder as the cameras finally pan towards the footballer, a sea of phones rising to capture the moment. you’re bent over giggling by the time you turn your attention back to him, “excuse me, what’s your name?” you ask, tilting the microphone towards him and awaiting his response.
“jude!” he yells, cupping both hands around his mouth and leaning slightly towards you, as if the gesture might somehow help bridge the distance between you, the stage, and the deafening sound of thousands of people shouting over one another.
the flashes of the bright police lights illuminate him in quick bursts, red and blue washing over the sharp, angular lines of his face and the flex of his toned arms. he takes a moment to look around again, eyes still wide as he grins and waves to the mass of fans beyond him, settling into the atmosphere and sudden attention around him.
“jude,” you parrot, dragging each syllable of his name out as though testing it on your tongue. your head tilts, one finger coming to rest against your chin in exaggerated thought, “and where are you from, jude?”
“birmingham!” he replies, gaze fixing back onto you infront of him, prompting another eruption of cheers from the crowd.
suddenly, your expression shifts. the feigned look of question fades into one of recognition, as though a lightbulb has just flickered on above your head, “oh, i know you!” you exclaim, your excitement only further fuelled by the screams around you. “you play football, right?”
jude nods his head sheepishly, one arm extending towards the back of his neck, seeking refuge at the nape of it as warmth pulses across his cheeks, a faint blush appearing over his tawny skin. he continues to beam up at you, pearly white teeth on display.
“yeah…” you hum, the word drawn out thoughtfully as your eyes flicker over the entirety of him. “so, that must mean you’re really good at scoring?”
the rhetoric spills out half-question, half-innuendo, and the crowd is hysterical before the words have even fully tumbled out of your mouth. you bite your lip, returning to fanning yourself as you look around in frantics, leaning into your backup dancers as though the weight of your own joke has suddenly become too much to bear.
jude’s face scrunches up as the meaning behind your joke finally catches up to him, his mouth falling open into a small ‘o’ as he shakes his head in dismay. several angles of the stage cameras catch him mouthing, that’s mad, in reaction, clearly trying to decide whether you really just said that to him in front of an entire sold-out arena full of people. and if they couldn’t see the heat on his face before, they definitely could now.
“oh my god, i just—” you stutter, glancing back at him. “you’re so gorgeous—i’m getting so flustered, overwhelmed—like, um…”
your vision flickers towards the pink handcuffs dangling in hands to the left of you, then back towards a disconcerted jude, “i think i’m going to have to arrest you for being so hot!”
as if on cue, your backup dancers nod their heads in agreement, one of them beginning to clap as the other reaches to hand you the handcuffs. but she barely gets the chance to pass them over before the long, pink skirt draped over your legs suddenly gives away, falling and pooling around the bottom of your custom-made boots and onto the floor that made up the stage. the reveal leaves you in a shorter version of the same skirt, the material now cutting off mid-thigh as the crowd explodes all over again. in all the commotion you finally take hold of the cuffs and step over the fabric at your feet, “okay, mr. handsome football player, here’s my gift for you,” you purr with a wink, “go back to playing with those balls now.”
the cameras project the small hand-off onto the screens for everyone to watch, howls of laughter, whooping, and pleas for the next song to begin cutting through the moment. jude takes the whole thing like a champ, holding his arms up in surrender as a sudden bout of confidence seems to settle into his stature, practically asking to be handcuffed by you.
the two of you dissolve into laughter at his antics, your head tossed back as he takes hold of the iconically scandalous handcuffs with a nod of thanks, lifting them above his head for the cameras and the thousands of fans watching.
“someone’s eager,” you mumble, watching him wave the cuffs around in the air as the crowd explodes all over again.
the chaos of it all reaches its peak as the lighting begins to lift, the stage slowly becoming concealed beneath a wash of light blue as you make your way back into position alongside your backup dancers. the first few chords of juno begin to play, the familiar intro cutting through the noise of the arena as you spin around to face the crowd, to face jude.
“this song is dedicated to jude, everyone,” you announce, the grin still lingering across your face. “here is juno!”
a/𝒏 — hiii guys 😳😳 first post on tumblr after lurking on here for literally forever.. #isthisthingon n e ways lol tysm for reading and getting this far, hope u enjoyed <3
Summary: Jude is obsessed with you in every way. He especially loves the fact you’re so American and will never stop teasing you about it.
Warnings/Notes: Fluff, silly American stereotypes, could be read as a sequel to Notice Me
A/N: Something fun and lighthearted! Also VERY indulgent once again sorry if you hate Americans... Two fics in one day. I'm on a roll.
Main Masterlist
In the months after the World Cup frenzy and the spontaneous date you had gone with arguably the world’s best football player, things only got crazier. Said footballer was now your very handsome, very thoughtful, very famous boyfriend. And you were being thrown into a new type of spotlight as not only a WAG but also a model turned movie star with you appearing in the latest Bond film.
So it had been a crazy year of press conferences, football matches, interviews, escaping the paparazzi. You were ready to rest. Because you and Jude had such insane schedules and constantly traveling around it was harder to see each other like a proper couple. Luckily you both found a couple weeks of overlap and Jude practically begged to have the two of you spend in Los Angeles. He had been upset he couldn’t go with you to the Los Angeles James Bond premiere months earlier so Jude insisted the only way you could make up for it was by letting him move in into your LA home for the next few weeks.
“I don’t really understand your obsession with this place,” you said, unlocking your home and showing it to him.
“It’s Hollywood babe,” he grinned.
It was weird having a man here. Let alone a man that was your boyfriend. Jude had visited your place in New York and Milan but never Los Angeles. The place you had grown up. It seemed to feel like another step in the relationship to something more permanent.
You tried not to think about it and led him into the living room where he flopped on the couch, kicking his long legs up on the coffee table. You sat on the cushion next to him but he was quick to wrap his arms around your middle to pull you flush against his side.
“Missed you,” he mumbled into your neck.
“Miss you too,” you sighed, squeezing his hand.
You two enjoyed each other's warmth for a moment, basking in the still silence and soft embrace. It had been weeks since you last saw each other, him being busy with football and you killing the runways in London and Milan.
“So what do you wanna do tomorrow?” you asked, turning slightly to face him.
“Whatever you want,” he shrugged, “Don’t care as long as I’m with you.”
You smiled at his words thinking about possible plans.
“Beach?” you suggested, that was never a bad shout.
“Of course you’d say that,” Jude teased, “Shall we go to Erewhon after and then shop on Rodeo Drive?”
His accent made the joke slightly funnier but now you were a bit peeved at his teasing. When you first got together, Jude seemed to be obsessed with your Americanism in ways you did not understand. Oftentimes he’d mimic your accent and you tried to do it back but failed. Now his latest joke was so unapologetically LA you were after he’d been watching all the old post-modern Hollywood movies.
“Jeez forgive me and my suggestions,” you grumbled.
“Nah you know you’re my favorite California girl,” he said, tickling your sides.
You squirmed in his hold trying not to give him the satisfaction of laughing. That was one of the things about your relationship that worried you at first. He was England’s golden boy while you were just a regular American. An American who was still a top model but your fame was really only known in the states and some parts of Europe like Milan and Paris.
You saw how people got when the internet’s heartthrob got off the market. You avoided Instagram for nearly a month after paparazzi pictures of you and Jude got leaked at a Louis Vuitton after party. The world could be cruel but Jude made it clear you weren’t alone. He had been through his fair share of media scrutiny and always made sure that even if the world had something to say you were still the one he wanted.
A soft growl interrupted your thoughts when you turned to Jude seeing his cheeks grow a bit pink.
“Hungry?”
“A bit,” he said, “Haven’t eaten since the airport.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” you scolded, getting up from the couch.
“Because there were only salad places from the airport to here.”
Well he wasn’t wrong about that.
“You have a palette of a child Jude.”
“I’m an athlete who is craving In and Out.”
“What a tourist,” you teased, “Let me put on some pants if we’re going out.”
You were wearing some disgusting sweats but you figured you two could walk around the shops after a quick bite. Jude gave you an odd look before another grin formed on his lips.
“Pants? Babe, I don't think that’s very appropriate for a night out.”
You rolled his eyes at his teasing as there were some slight language changes to you and Jude’s dialectics.
“I’m not calling them trousers. They are pants.”
Jude only laughed harder at your annoyance, “You know I wouldn’t mind you flocking around in just pants.”
He wiggled his brows flirtatiously at you, making you roll out of his arms and smack him with the closest throw pillow. He let out a yelp as you scrambled away before he could you again. You were giggling at his perplexed state before he also rose from the couch.
“You’re going to pay for that!” Jude said, trying to chase you.
You let out a laugh as you ran down the halls towards your bedroom. The joke was on him though since he had no idea how to navigate your house.
You thought you escaped him, diving into your closet to change but a pair of arms grabbed you by the waist as you turned the corner.
“Ah!” you screamed, twisting to see Jude grinning down at you with his arms firmly wrapped around you.
“Gotcha,” he hummed, turning you around to face him, “Time for your punishment for threatening me with an injury.”
“What a baby,” you sighed but you gave in to what he wanted most.
You angled your head up to press a soft kiss to his lips, cradling his jaw while he pulled you flushed against him. The two of you made out for a few minutes in your closet, your hands running along his jaw and chest while his hands tangled in your hair and pawed at your body. It was only until the sound of stomach rumbling that forced you guys to pull apart, although Jude’s lips still chased yours.
“Let’s eat some real food,” you hummed, wiping off the lipstick stains on Jude’s own lips with your thumb.
Jude playfully tried to bite your thumb but allowed you to change so the two of you could go eat.
–
It was a well known fact that Jude could not drive. You on the other hand had been navigating the Los Angeles highways since you took the driver’s test the day right after your 16th birthday. You unlocked your convertible which you admit was a pretty LA of you.
“Aren’t I a lucky lad?” he grinned, hoping in the passenger seat, “Got the prettiest girl driving me around.”
“I hope you know that I still find it extremely icky that you still don’t have a license,” you said, rolling your eyes while pulling out of the driveway.
It was pretty nice out so you opened up the car so the light ocean breeze could pass through.
“I’ve spent more time on planes and travel buses than actually cars babe.”
“As much as I hate the paparazzi, I really hope they get an image of this passenger prince over here,” you sighed.
“Then the world would know I’m seeing the most beautiful girl in the world,” he said, always trying to butter you up.
Before you could retaliate your eyes finally registered the traffic ahead of you.
“Ugh the 405 is backed up,” you sighed, “Maybe I can re-route to Venice.”
“I love when you talk about LA navigation babe. So sexy.”
“Jude I swear to god!” you huffed, trying to merge into the congested lane.
“You’re so easy to annoy,” Jude laughed, reaching over the console to take your hand.
You playfully tried to pull away but Jude was stronger and pressed a kiss to your palm. You shot him a glare and he gave you a wink back. Cheeky bastard.
The rest of the car ride went without much teasing. Jude was taking photos of you in the driver’s seat with the coast in the background. You found it a bit adorable him being in awe of the scenery.
You pulled into the parking lot, knowing that neither of you had the patience to wait in the drive thru line. Although Jude said before he left he wanted to experience the drive thru which had you rolling your eyes but promising him that. You were going to take him to Chick-fil-a or something. Thankfully the spot you chose was not that crowded as you were already in front in a couple minutes.
“What can I get you?” the cashier asked.
“I’ll do a regular cheeseburger with grilled onions and fries,” you said, “What do you want Jude?”
Jude had an amused glint in his eyes as he began his own order.
“I’ll do a double-double with grilled onions and animal style fries. Oh and I’ll also do a chocolate milkshake.”
The cashier typed in your order and Jude graciously paid for your meals. However as you walked over to an open booth he still had that teasing spark in his eyes.
“What?” you pressed, narrowing your eyes, “What did I do?”
“Apparently you’re going to do a cheeseburger? That’s really interesting babe.”
You blinked at him not even processing how odd that phrasing may seem to a non-American.
“I feel like it’s wrong to make fun of my Americanism when we’re in America,” you sighed, “I’ll allow it when we’re in Europe but we’re on my home turf.”
“Fair enough,” Jude said, holding up his hands in defense, “Just know it's all teasing. I do love your valley girl accent babe.”
“I do not have a valley girl accent!” you exclaimed, although there was some vocal fry in that statement.
Your number was called out as Jude quickly got up to retrieve your order. Before he immediately dug in he made sure to get one last comment in.
“I don’t have an accent,” he mimicked in an awful impression, “Hate to break it to you but you sound like Elle Woods from that one American college movie. It’s still very cute though.”
He took a bite of his burger, nearly moaning at how good it was.
“Well you sound like a Peaky Blinder,” you retorted pointing your finger accusingly which made Jude naturally grab your hand and press a kiss to your palm. You pulled away only cause he had sauce on his lips which made him chuckle.
“I clearly remember you telling me how charming my accent was when we first met.”
“Never happened,” you shook your head even though it was totally true.
Before the two of you could get into another argument a voice called out,
“Umm could I get a photo with you?”
It was a young girl who looked a bit shy gripping her phone.
“Oh yeah sure,” Jude grinned, “You a Madrid fan?”
“Oh not you,” the girl quickly said, “Her. I love your runways.”
You shot Jude a teasing look before telling the girl yes. You made a point to hand the phone to Jude to take the photo which he did with no complaints. Normally when the two of you were in Madrid, England or other parts of Europe it was you in Jude’s position. To be fair he was like the top footballer in the world. But without fail, anytime the two of you were in America, it was you getting stopped on the streets and you found it hilarious whenever Jude assumed it was for him.
“Thank you!” the girl squeaked before running away.
You let out a chuckle before facing Jude again. His brows were slightly furrowed because most times you got stopped for a photo they would at least ask for a group one after. The two of you had kind of become an it couple which was sort of hilarious in some ways.
The media painted the two of you as these very put-together couples, with you being a high-fashion model and him being a classy footballer. Oftentimes the top of you were spotted in pristine outfits, tennis matches, or red carpet premieres. While there was nothing wrong with that image, when it was just the two of you it really was like being teenagers in love. You lounged around, watched movies from the couch, ate greasy food, went on late night walks, laughed loudly, and just drove around with no plans in mind.
“Are you jealous?” you teased, snatching one of his fries.
“Hardly,” he scoffed.
“I’m convinced,” you said, “Better get used to it. I’m quite a big deal around here.”
That was true to Los Angeles. One because you had grown up here and two because of your recent breakthrough in Hollywood. But the World Cup had put some footballers on the map in the U.S., including the Jude, so you wouldn’t be surprised if he also had some local fans.
“So I heard,” Jude said, “This year’s top model, cover star for over 20 magazines, Victoria Secret Angel, and the newest Bond girl.”
You blushed at his praise. Despite Jude’s own success he did seem marveled at your own fame, it never felt like a competition between the two of you like your past experience dating other celebrities.
“You forgot to mention WAG,” you laughed, as that was what most sports magazines referred to you as.
“Nah if anything I’m the boyfriend to Vogue's September cover star,” Jude grinned.
You chuckled again, as the two of you finished up your meal. Once you were done, you suggested walking around the plaza. Jude agreed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing kissing to the top of your head.
After doing a lap around the plaza and giggling about nothing, the two of you walked back to the car. He made a big deal opening your door door only to walk over to the passenger side. You tried hard not to laugh.
Once at home, the two of you got ready for bed, occasionally brushing against each other or bumping one another’s hips while you changed and brushed your teeth. Tucked underneath the sheets, You snuggled into Jude’s side while looking for a movie to watch.
Jude suggested an old Bond film which you were about to agree to until to realize what day it was.
“Holy shit the Lakers are playing!” you said, immediately switching to ESPN.
Jude let out a groan knowing how this night was going to end. But still he laid there with you in his arms as you were enamored by the American sport to him. Every time you turned to him to explain a play, Jude pressed a kiss to your nose knowing that these next few weeks in the city of stars would be the best time. Only because he got to be with his sweet American girl.
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hii!!!! could i ask for a jude blurb pleaseee! its all before the fame, reader and jude go to the same school and they attend some classes together and shes like a year younger and shes just a shy person overall and so sweet to everyone and hes this popular guy!! but hes not mean, hes just as sweet to everyone too. shes had her eyes on him for quite some time now and all her friends know it and have been teasing her about it! like she finds him really pretty and has developed a tiny crush on him 🤭 and whenever they pass each other in the hallway she shyly looks at him!! and OH he notices her!! like he sees the way she looks at him and sliiightly blushes everytime and thinks shes so nonchalant and stuff but literally anybody could see right through her if they just paid attention!!!! and he slowly starts noticing her too, like he also thinks shes really pretty as well and everytime she looks at him he catches her gaze and she just looks away quickly!!!! her friends keep telling her that they are 100% sure he likes her at least a little and she should shoot her shot! but she cant do it!!!! and then one day he just simply walks up to her just SO casually! qnd hes like hi im jude and the convo just starts flowing naturally!!! and u can see that they both have a crush on each other and stuff!!! and their friends are always just teasing them about it because they can see they both really like each other!!!! idk im a sucker for this kind of blurbs 🙂↕️ like just something cute and sweet and shy! please and thank youuu!!!! this was quite long im so sorry! :)))))))
secret admirer - jude bellingham
summary: you'd never thought jude bellingham would notice you, but he finally did one day.
notes: oh my gosh, I’m such a sucker for these types of fics! this request was so fun to write and I hope you enjoy!! I tried incorporating all of the subtle details plus a little of my own, so that's why it turned out long!
also is it just me who does not know who to root for in France vs Spain.. like there's dictator mbappe on one side and then lamine on the other.. I actually can't pick.
warnings: none!
you opened your locker, putting one of your textbooks inside before taking out another for your next class. your friend leaned against the locker wall, telling you about the latest gossip at your school. you listened to her attentively, occasionally letting out a "really?" in surprise before turning back to what you were doing.
suddenly, your friend looked away from you and into the hallway. she nudged your shoulder teasingly, drawing your attention to her.
"two o'clock." she said, and you didn't have to ask her to know who she was talking about. you immediately turned around, and she laughed, murmuring something under her breath before you glared at her. you turned back around to scan the hallway, your eyes falling onto him.
jude bellingham, the most popular, and gorgeous (your opinion, of course) guy on the campus. he had his backpack slung over his shoulder, stopping in the middle of the hallway to dab somebody up before continuing on his walk to class. your eyes never wandered away from him.
you'd constantly told yourself that it was just a silly crush, that you would get over him one day, but that day never came. every passing day, you would still watch as jude made his way through the hallway, his usual route to class.
one day, he would notice you, you thought. one day.
over the next couple of days, nothing changed. every single day, you turned and watched as jude walked down that same hallway. your friends constantly teased you about it all the time, telling you to go up to him and talk to him if you liked him that much, but you always chickened out.
you were running late one day, fumbling with your combination lock, doing your best to not be late for class. you hurriedly grabbed your needed textbook and closed your locker, sprinting down the hallway to make it on time.
as you were running, the hallway mostly empty now that class is almost in session, you locked eyes with jude as he turned the corner, heading the opposite direction. however, it was brief as you tore your eyes away from him, making your way to class.
jude turned back to look at your figure running down the hallway, a curious look on his face. he watched as you disappeared the further you ran, a tiny smile playing on his lips. he turned away, a thoughtful expression on his face as he made his way to his own class.
that brief encounter is all you could think about. jude bellingham had actually looked at you, he knew that you existed now.
the next day, you took your same spot in the third row of your history class, one of the classes you share with jude. you were taking out your notebook when jude entered the room. you glanced up for a second and you froze in your tracks.
you locked eyes with jude again, for the second time this week. he held eye contact with you, not breaking it as he makes his way to his seat in the second row. you looked away after a second or two, cheeks already starting to turn a shade of pink. you thought there was nothing obvious about it, just a simple glance at a fellow classmate, but to anyone else, it was as glaring as a sign taped to your forehead which said "I like Jude!"
at the end of the school day, you were walking with your friends to leave the building. jude was with his own friends, leaning against the wall. his eyes watched you as you walked past him, and one of your friends elbowed you, not even making the motion discrete. jude saw it and smiled. you broke the eye contact again, blushing again.
the second you were out of earshot, your friends immediately started to swarm you. When did this happen? Are you dating him? He totally likes you! Just talk to him already! you were bombarded with relentless talking from all of your friends as you left the building, and you eventually told them everything.
"just shoot your shot with him already! he totally likes you, it's not like you can get rejected or anything." your friend kept on talking from her usual post at your locker. you shook your head at her, turning towards her, but her eyes were somewhere else, at something else behind you. you frowned and turned around, and you stopped breathing for a second.
jude was walking towards you. his friends were gathered near the wall, snickering amongst each other and watching the scene unfold. your friend took his approach as a signal to make a murmured excuse about meeting a teacher before walking away to give you space.
"hey." he said, stopping right in front of you. he was so nonchalant about it, as if his presence wasn't affecting you at all.
"hi." you responded, unsure of what to say.
"I'm Jude." he smiled.
you introduced yourself too, and the conversation between you two flowed naturally. you had natural chemistry with him. you didn't even have to try, the conversation just kept on going and going.
the more you talked to jude, the more you started to like him more. you didn't know a lot of stuff about him before, but now you did. you learned that he plays soccer for the school's team ;)), he had a brother, and more. you also hung out with him outside of school, which is how you met his brother.
both you and jude's friends relentlessly teased the both of you. your cheeks turned pink everytime your friends made fun of you. you even caught glimpses of jude's friends pointing at you and elbowing jude when you pass by.
you're at the park with jude one day, walking side by side. he cracks a joke and you laugh, throwing your head back. you point out the large fountain in the middle of the park, pulling jude along to see it.
"you're supposed to make a wish." you say, already pulling out your wallet from your purse to grab a coin, but jude is faster. his hand grabs yours and he places a coin in it, pulling out another coin for his wish.
"you first." you say, motioning to him to throw it. he does so, closing his eyes as he throws it into the fountain.
"what did you wish for?" you ask. jude turns towards you at the question, a smile playing at his lips.
"I wished.." his voice trails off, and he grabs your hand. suddenly, you forget completely about making your own wish as the only thing you can think about is how close he is to you.
"for the girl who's standing in front of me to go on a date with me." he admits. your breath hitches, and jude waits anxiously, his eyes looking over your face for any sign of a rejection.
"you didn't need to wish for that." you say, and close the final distance between you two, your lips meeting his.
the kiss is soft, and everything you've ever dreamed of. your arms wrap around his neck, and his around your waist. he smiles against your lips before pulling away for air. you smile back at him, and pull him in for another kiss. the world fades around you two, and the only thing you can think about is how happy you are in that moment now.
just a lil nibble — england national team summary: your man’s biceps look quite tasty. pairings: england nt (john stones, jude bellingham, jordan pickford, & elliot anderson) x reader warnings: fluff + hints of consensual activities mentioned!! a/n: thank u for the req xx <3 this was so fun I wanna bite pickfords biceps so bad 🤤
JORDAN PICKFORD
you watch him from where you’re seated on the plush couch. he lifts the heavy boxes with such ease it was killing you. inner thighs were burning with how hard you were squishing them together to avoid heat spreading.
his large biceps flex with the heavy weight of the boxes close to his chest. he doesn’t even sound out of breath or strained by the weight.
“I think that’s the last of it.” he grunts, shoving the final box onto the kitchen counter. he turns to where you’re sat, your eyes were glued on his tatted arm, practically drooling.
“see something you like?” he says with a smile, his ego reveling in your stare. he purposefully flexes the muscles for a quick moment, just watching your eyes haze over in awe.
he moves across the room to the back of the couch. reaching over the back, he presses his hands under your armpits and lifts you onto the edge of the back of the couch.
he brushes your hair off your shoulder, and knees your thighs open. his lips faintly kiss the crook of your neck. without a moment of thought, and in the rush of endorphins, his left tatted bicep was right in front of your face. you sink your teeth into the muscle that was contracted balancing you on the edge of the back of the couch.
“what was that for?” he asks pulling away with a breathy chuckle into your neck.
“just wanted a taste.”
JUDE BELLINGHAM
“yep, just like that.” he stands behind you, hands hovering under the weighted bar while you squat.
“so good, yes!” he praises, following your squat down and up. he notices when the weight becomes too much, and takes the bar off your shoulders releasing the pressure.
sighing in relief, you turn around to face him. jude held the weight out in front him, curling his forearms up to his biceps with ease as the bar was way too light for him.
“show off,” you scoff, but keep your eyes glued on his muscles contracting and expanding. this gym day was about you building muscle and getting into a gym routine, but jude had to go and steal the show.
“are you done, yet?” you meant for the delivery to come out annoyed, but the words were opposite of what your intention was. the words came out breathy and dreamy like. he had a hard time believing you wanted him to stop.
“you’re staring.” he chuckles. taking the bar, he places it back onto the rack and moves around the equipment to the next. before he could get any further, you gripped your fingers around his forearm which forced his bicep muscles to flare as he tried to tug away from you.
“wow,” you sigh, index finger tracing the bumps of muscle, and before he could even blink or respond, your teeth were dug deep into the skin of his muscles.
“fuck was that for?”
smiling sheepishly up at him you say, “just looked so good.”
JOHN STONES
he stands at the kitchen island, laptop placed in front of him, palms on either side of it. he nods attentively listening to the information from his agents and coaches.
entering the kitchen for a snack—after promising to stay out of the meeting—you duck down to the floor and crawl on all fours towards the snack cabinet. as you’re crawling, you pass john—as that was the only way towards the cabinet—and lightly pinch his ass.
jumping at the pinch of his skin he nearly bumps his laptop off the island and has to reach to save the device from breaking.
“John are you okay?” you hear his agent ask over the speaker.
“yeah sorry, must’ve been a spider.” he blushes and takes an opportunity to look down at you with a growl and mouths for you to move along.
but how could you resist his beautiful ass? it was right there taunting to you.
you watch him for a moment before moving along to your mission of the cabinet. finally to the destination, you pulled open the creaky drawer, slowly. you attempt to dig into the shelves blind, but your hand couldn’t find what you were looking for. by now, John was irritated and kept eyeing you every so often from his computer. finally, you found the jackpot of crisps you were looking for and crawled back around the island, ignoring his juicy ass, but lunging upward towards his bicep.
“what the fuck!” he jumps out of his skin at the sudden pain in his bicep. looking down at where the tugging pinch came from, he saw a sunken teeth marking. he wasn’t entirely sure how you moved so quickly for him to not notice, but he sure as shit felt it.
slamming the laptop shut with force, he marched toward the living room where you sat giggling to yourself.
“did you just bite me?”
“maybe.”
ELLIOT ANDERSON
sopping wet from the chlorine pool, he stands at the ledge tossing your nieces and nephews into the water.
over and over again he lifts them into the air like a bag of feathers and they collide with the water with a hard splash.
while it was impossible to stop smiling at the adorable sights and sounds of their excitement, your eyes were trained on his strong arms.
the muscles contracted with each time he lifted a kid and boy was it hot. even hotter with him shirtless, letting his pale skin soak in the sun.
“alright, let me catch a breath!” Elliot calls out to the kids in the pool and jogs over to where you’re laid out on the chair.
he reaches over your body, cool droplets of water dripping into your lap, as he reaches for your water bottle.
you run your hands down his arms causing him to pause. hovering over you, he bends down to press a kiss to your temple, but you’re sitting up right out of the chair and pressing a kiss to the muscles of his biceps.
“made me miss.” he spats out your hair that he accidentally got stuck on his lips. he looks down at you, though he can’t see your face, your lips were glued to the bicep.
you move your lips up his arms and stop at a mountain of muscle and sink your teeth into the tan skin. it was a gentle tug of your teeth, just a nice little nibble that he didn’t notice until he pulled away.
“you bite me?” he asks looking down at his bicep and back up at you.
