in which, jude bellingham falls for his coaches daughter during training for the worldcup
warnings : cussing, mentions of sex and suicide
"so what, you just.. sit here all the time and watch us play? kinda boring, innit?" jude questions, looking down at you as you sit on the bench, a cup of iced coffee in your hand.
"yeah. it's kinda fun. plus, who'd miss up the opportunity to watch hot sweaty guys run around shirtless?" you smirk, poking fun at him.
jude rolls his eyes, sitting down next to you and stretching his long legs out, toned dark thighs pressing against yours.
"don't you have school? swear, you're more unemployed than me." he nudges you, looking you up and down for the third time in the past 10 minutes.
you shrug, sipping the iced coffee. "i do. i just.. tend to skip. hate it there."
"yeah.. yeah. schools ass. maybe you should start playing footie. then you'd have an excuse to skip."
"only if id be like, super good and famous." you sigh, looking at the sky with furrowed eyebrows as if you were genuinely considering it.
"sounds like me." jude smirks, leaning back against his elbows to sit more comfortably.
"ew."
"wha-" "cocky footballers might be the death of me."
"im not cocky. " jude mumbles, now frowning in offense.
you stare at him, raising an eyebrow as if saying you sure?
jude grumbles, rolling his eyes. "okay, sometimes. so? being confident is the way to live."
"confident and cocky aren't the same thing, dumbass. you're.. kinda a mix of both." you reply, really looking at him this time.
"like, in a good way?" jude winks, making you scoff in return which turns his smirk into another frown.
"get back to training, dude. dads gonna kill me if you fall off." you push his bicep softly, trying not to moan at how hard and big it is.
"yeah yeah.. ill be back. keep watching me, pretty!" he runs off, joining the rest of the team in laps.
"hmf.. he's kinda cute." you mumble, watching him from afar as you bite your lip.
"THE jude bellingham flirted with you?! do you understand how crazy that is?!" your friend, lucy shouts at you, smacking your hand repeatedly in excitement.
"ow, ow! i didn't say he flirted with me. he kinda just.. gassed himself up in front of me. typical." you roll your eyes, leaning against her pillows on her queen sized bed.
"y/n, im serious. you can't pass up an opportunity like this. think about the money, the fame, the dick!" she squeals, jumping around and already imagining your future as a wag.
"no, no, and no. well, maybe." you ponder, looking off. "he is cute.. but, who says he actually wants me? im not getting played by a footballer. that's disgraceful."
"if a man like this played me, id thank him."
"that's cause you have no self respect."
"hey!"
you take her phone from her, scrolling through his instagram and biting your lip, something you tend to do when you see jude.
"just, give it a chance. flirt back. see what happens. and update me!" lucy demands, watching your face carefully as you sigh, eyes turning to her.
"fine. but if he rejects me, im killing myself out of embarrassment. and then im gonna haunt you for causing this."
"yea bla bla bla! trust me. in two months, you're gonna be making out and having sex in some hotel room suite of his in miami."
two months later.. the world cup has been absolutely insane, your dad taking you along with him to watch the english team matches.
since you're both familiar with the team and your dad being their regular coach - vip access was basically a gift from the team.
it's about 2 am in new york. you're standing off to the side of the celebration party after the 2-0 win against panama. jude scored first, with harry kane securing the win in the 67th minute.
you've been watching jude for the past 20 minutes as he gets congratulated left and right. shaking about 60 hands in one night.
when he's finally free from all the praise, he walks over to you and leans against the wall next to you, looking at you. "hey, pretty."
"good game. congrats on the win." you smirk softly, looking up at him due to the height difference.
"thanks.. thanks. i saw you in the stands you know. spences jersey? seriously? he barely played." jude rolls his eyes, clearly upset you didn't favour him over his teammate.
"chill out. i just bought the one that was available. yours were all sold out, mr popular."
he snickers, leaning down to look at your face in more detail, his minty clean breath hitting your senses.
"wanna.. wanna come to my hotel room? we can celebrate.. just the two of us." his hands finds yours, tracing your manicured nails.
"is that an invitation to fuck?"
"i mean, if you want it to be." he shrugs, licking his bottom lip as he stares at yours.
"don't get ahead of yourself , big boy. take me on a date first." you press a finger against his chest, staring up with a challenging smirk.
"a date?.. okay. i can work with that." he nods, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves.
"maybe when we get back to england.. yeah?" you suggest, blinking up at him softly through your lashes.
"sounds good to me, pretty. ill handle all the planning, yeah? you just.. sit and relax." he presses a kiss to your chin just below your bottom lip, pushing off the wall and leaving you there, stunned but giddy as fuck deep inside.
in which, michael olise finds himself attached to the new girl at bayern munich.
not proofread!
warnings : none
its a quiet afternoon in the training centre, the only sounds being the coach running drills with players. others are training on their own, or sleeping on the bench - *cough cough, joshua*
michael is on his second lap around the pitch, focusing solely on his breathing and the way his cleats hit against the soft grass.
the conversation of his teammates is muffled by his airpods, a new pr package he received yesterday.
he doesn't realise there's a girl on the pitch, until the coach whistles loudly to get everyones attention.
"listen up! i know this isn't the way we usually do this, but we have a new addition to the team. all the way from southern france, y/n dubois. she'll be playing with us starting today. got it?"
everyone nods slowly, still staring in slight disbelief as this has never happened before, but they all knew it was a possibility.
"hello, im y/n. nice to meet you all, im excited to be playing with you all from now on." you smile widely, already extending your hand to greet every single player on the pitch.
they go in order, some smiling more than others but being polite and welcoming regardless.
and then there's michael, who's now standing behind everyone, trying to calm his breathing from the running- or is it from you? eitherway, he's not moving.
once you finally notice him and go over to greet him, his eyes widen a bit in shock and shyness, trying to regain some cool.
"hello! im-" "y/n. i heard." he clears his throat, looking down at your extended hand before ultimately deciding to shake it.
"im michael. michael olise." he mumbles, finally making eye contact with those pretty and warm eyes of yours.
"ohh- tu viens de France aussi?" you ask with a big smile, happy to meet a fellow frenchie.
he nods, deciding not to answer verbally.
your smile falls a tiny bit, which makes his heart race, but not in a good way. "yeah im- im french. ça va?"
two months later after meeting, he's become quite literally attached to you. not like he admits it, but everyone else says it. the fans, the press, your teammates- and the list goes on.
michaels a shy guy, but he's extra affectionate to people he loves. wait, does he love you? maybe. he doesn't know.
it's the small things - running laps with you at training or only passing the ball your way during matches. it works in the teams favour though, since your goal shoots have extreme precision.
today, michael indirectly invited you over to his apartment to help him sort out gifts for his younger brothers birthday.
"aww, this is adorable!" you squeal, lifting up a photo frame of michael and richard when they were young.
michael looks up from the gift he's wrapping, shrugging with a neutral look on his face. "i guess. he's gonna think it's corny. you know how 15 year olds be."
you roll your eyes, placing the photo frame down carefully and crossing your arms over your chest. "he'll get over it. i had that phase too."
"you? i doubt it. you're like.. a ball of sunshine. all happy and.. cute 24/7."
a small laugh escapes your mouth, immediately slapping a hand over it. "bullshit. you think im this happy every second of the day?"
"aren't you?" he mumbles, raising an eyebrow at you.
"well, uh, sorta? i believe in sharing positive energy with others, unlike someone-"
michael rolls his eyes, tugging you closer so you focus back on the gifts.
