Jobe fic where he tries to teach the reader football and she’s really bad in the beginning. But they end up making it a weekly football date. And she even ends up being okay good, so a day when Jude came over the brothers were playing in the garden and the reader joins and lowkey dusts Jude… (maybe a nutmeg on him) and Jobe is just so happy that he can spend time with you while doing what he loves to do, and that you have also started enjoying it
pic is from pinterest and is not mine!
favourite date
jo. bellingham x reader,
(platonic) ju. bellingham x reader
jobes favourite person is you and his favourite thing to do is soccer. those two combined is like a perfect combo. you nutmeg jude btw 🥹
taglist (tw) : soccer/football, ruffling of your hair, fem reader, names like “love, babe” etc
it started because you complained.
“i don’t get how you make it look so easy.”
jobe looked up from tying his boots.
“what?”
“football.”
he smiled. “want me to teach you?”
you shrugged. “i mean… sure.”
“you serious?”
“yeah.”
“you can’t complain when i make you run.”
“i already regret saying yes.”
he laughed, tossing you one of his spare footballs. “come on then.”
to his surprise, you weren’t hopeless. infact yoi we’re far from it.
your first touch wasn’t amazing, but it wasn’t awful either and you could pass accurately enough. you also had decent balance.
you just.. lacked technique.
“you’ve definitely played before,” jobe said after you managed to return a few passes.
“only a bit at school.”
“i knew it.”
“i’m still not good.”
“you just need to keep practicing, love”
since you knew an overall concept, it made teaching you so much more enjoyable. he didn’t have to explain every tiny thing from scratch. but instead, he got to show you little details.
like how to open your body before receiving the ball, why you shouldn’t always stare down at your feet, how to disguise a pass or when to use the inside of your foot instead of your laces.
he loved watching the little moments when something finally clicked. he especially loved the little reactions of yours like how your face would light up when he complimented your skill.
“oh!”
“what?”
“i get it now.”
“i told you.”
“no, but i actually get it.”
his grin was impossible to miss.
“there she is.”
soon, it quickly became a tradition. every wednesday evening and sometimes sunday mornings too if neither of you had plans. he’d pick you up with a football in the boot of his car, and you’d head to a nearby pitch or even just kick a ball around in his parents’ garden.
there some weeks he’d set up passing drills and other weeks it’d turn into one-on-one games where he’d dramatically celebrate every goal he scored.
“you did not need to knee slide.”
“i absolutely did.”
“your literally a professional and i’m a noob.”
“a win’s a win.”
“you are so annoying.”
“and yet you keep agreeing to football dates.”
you smiled despite yourself. “i wonder why.”
month by month, you got better. obviously not unbelievably good or anywhere near jobe but good enough that you could hold your own.
occasionally you’d even beat him.
mostly because he’d underestimated you or he was going easy.
“i cannot believe you’ve just nicked that off me.”
“you told me to be aggressive.”
“i didn’t think you’d actually listen.”
“sounds like a you problem.”
he couldn’t stop smiling. every improvement felt like he’d won something himself. he is VERY proud his girl.
one afternoon, jude came over to visit. the brothers hadn’t kicked a ball around together in ages, so naturally they ended up outside. you sat on the patio with a drink, watching them laugh and try to outdo each other.
jobe looked towards you. “babe.”
“hm?”
“come join.”
you raised an eyebrow. “i’d be interrupting.”
“nah,” jude called. “come on.”
you wandered over, accepting the ball jobe rolled towards you.
the three of you started with simple passing.
jude was relaxed, assuming you’d just knock it around for a bit. jobe, on the other hand, knew exactly how much you’d improved.
he watched proudly every time you controlled the ball cleanly or found the right pass.
“nice,” he called after one particularly crisp switch.
you smiled “thank you, coach.” your cheeks slightly reddening. from the heat or from his praise, you couldnt tell.
“told you she’d get there,” jobe said.
jude nodded. “she’s got a good touch.”
eventually, the passing turned into a little two-versus-one game.
you and jobe against jude.
“bit unfair,” jude laughed.
“you’ll survive,” jobe replied while you chuckled behind.
then the ball came to you.
jude stepped forward to close you down.
you remembered exactly what jobe had spent weeks teaching you.
don’t rush. watch the defender. let them commit first.
at the last second, you gently nudged the ball through jude’s legs before darting around him to collect it.
it was silent. your eyebrows furrowed, had you done something offensive? bad?
“no way!” jobe shouted. he burst into laughter, clapping his hands together.
“did you just nutmeg him?”
you followed him in so, covering your mouth while laughing. “i… i think so?”
jude turned around, shaking his head with a smile. “that’s disrespectful.”
“i didn’t even mean for it to look like that.”
“oh, you absolutely did,” jobe grinned.
“you’ve been teaching her too much.”
jobe was practically glowing. “i told you she’s been improving.”
“i can see that.” jude said, jogging over and playfully ruffling your hair. “fair play.”
jobe looked ridiculously happy. not because you’d embarrassed his brother (although he definitely found that funny) but because he’d watched you go from someone who knew the basics to someone who genuinely enjoyed being out here with him.
after jude went inside to grab drinks, you and jobe stayed in the garden, lazily passing the ball between yourselves.
“you know,” he said quietly.
“what?”
“i think these are my favourite dates.”
you smiled. “really?”
he nodded.
“i get to spend time with my favourite person…”he trapped your pass effortlessly before sending it back. “…while doing my favourite thing.”
you caught the ball and his eyes lit up immediately. “see?”
“what?”
“a few months ago that would’ve bounced five metres away.”
you rolled your eyes. “thanks.”
“i’m serious.” he walked over, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “i love that you actually enjoy this now.”
“well i love that you wanted to teach and play with me.”
he smiled so softly it almost made your heart ache. “i just wanted you to be part of something i love.”
you looked down at the ball resting between your feet. “i love you jobe.”
jobe leaned down to kiss your forehead. “well i do more.”
then, after a beat, he nudged the ball away with his foot. “rematch?”
“you still haven’t recovered from me nutmegging your brother, have you?”
he laughed. “i don’t think i ever will.”
“and you’re definitely bringing it up every family gathering?”
“yep! for the rest of his life.”
~~
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