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qxldnya · 1 year

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Enemies to lovers

Part 1 part 2 part 3

Jude Bellingham x baller!reader

Taglist now open

Wc: 2k

Warning: past flashback, swearing

⚠️ A/n: PLS STOP SPAMMING ME! I beg man 😭 i will post parts as soon as i can and people spamming me everywhere only puts me off this. If you wanna be apart of the taglist comment down below<3 THANK YOU FOR 900 FOLLOWERS <3

"A favor?"

You repeat, the words feeling thick and heavy on your tongue. A part of you suspects that he's about to pull a fast one and make some belittling joke at your expense.

Or he's going to ask you to do something completely impossible for him, just so he can prove his point that, haha, you fucked up!

Because there's really no conceivable reason that he would-

"You need me to act as your boyfriend for the wedding thing. Fine. But I need you to..."

He trails off, and you stare in awe as a light pink hue dusts his cheeks. Is Jude... blushing? You'd seen him blush out of rage before, many times actually, but never... shyness? Is that what this even is?

"...It'll be easier if I just explain it first."

Nodding, you feel like you're stuck in some kind of trance as he sits down on top of the desk next to yours. He sighs again, and then those blood-red eyes are focused on you.

"My parents are... fuckin' nutcases. I don't know if you've heard much about them, but they're kinda well- respected in England. Not like your aunt, just pretty influential in politics n' shit."

You openly stare at him, head tilted.

"I, uh, don't follow."

A glare. "So let me fucking finish then, eh?"

Bristling, you bite your tongue and grit out a strained apology. He just rolls his eyes in response and continues on.

"Anyways, my mom's been creepily invested in like, making sure I have a girlfriend so I can 'continue the family lineage.' I'm still 19 so it doesn't make much sense, but it's just for her to show it off I guess."

He makes air quotes with his fingers as he speaks, and you almost want to laugh a bit because the idea of Jude having a wife and kids is just... unrealistic. He looks away, eyes hardening as his tone shifts into something more somber. "So then I had a girlfriend, but we uh, broke up a few months ago."

Hold the fucking phone. Jude had a girlfriend? Like, as in living breathing girl? Who was interested in actually dating him?

Your attempt to conceal the look of shock clearly written across on your face utterly fails, because Jude instantly notices before you can even try to correct yourself. The look he gives you makes your spine go rigid.

"The fuck you looking like that for?"

"Nothing," you say a bit too quickly. "so then what about the rest of the favor?" He scowls for a few moments longer, as if he's wondering if he really wants to pursue an argument right now, then thankfully drops the issue altogether and continues talking. You let out a breath you weren't even aware you'd been holding, feeling slightly victorious at the fact that for once you've managed to avoid a giant mess. It's a nice change of pace.

"As I was saying, we broke up, but my mom doesn't know that. Hell, she didn't even meet my girlfriend to begin with. Was just happy to know I had one, and then bragged about it to all her friends or whatever."

Your fingers begin to drum wildly against your desk. You've got a feeling you know where this is going, and it does not appeal to you.

"But you're single now, so she doesn't know?"

"Yeah. Which is where you come in."

Yep. Laughing nervously, you stand from your seat and grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

"Yeah, look... I know I fucked up with the whole phone call thing, and I'm sorry about that, but I am NOT going to be your pretend girlfriend for god knows how long just because your mom-"

He makes a face, appearing as if you've just gravely offended him.

"What? Why the fuck would I ever want that? Idiot, it's only going to be for one night, not a year."

A short laugh escapes his lips, curt and blunt. “You think I'd enjoy having you of all people as my girlfriend?"

You wince, because ouch, but at the same time, you'd probably reply with the exact same thing had he been the one to insinuate that. So it's fair, you suppose. "Only one night?" Is your hesitant response. "My mom's got a stupid party with her fellow political snobs coming up in a week," he grumbles, leg swinging impatiently.

"I just need you to pose as my girlfriend for the party. That's all."

Mulling over your options, you bite your lip and give him a skeptical glance.

"So that's it? And then you'll- you'll do the wedding thing with me?"

Jude nods. You then start to feel slightly bad, because here he is only requiring you to act as his significant other for one night, whereas you'll be having him act for a week... "Are you sure it's a fair exchange?" You mumble, nervously picking at the seams of your shorts. Rolling his eyes for the billionth time, he hops off of the desk and snorts.

"I get out of having my mom scream at me and get a free vacation to fucking Malibu?"

"The Bahamas," you correct him.

Another eye roll. You silently hope that they stay stuck in the back of his head someday.

"Whatever, same difference. So yeah, it's a pretty fair exchange.

I mean, we just fake "break up" after the wedding or whatever." He hums to himself a bit, before grimacing slightly. His next words are nothing more but a mumble, and you strain to hear them.

"But, if anything, we're both kinda getting fucked over here." You narrow your eyes suspiciously. "Hey, hold on, I never explicitly agreed to all of this. What do you mean by that?"

A sort of realization dawns on him. He slowly faces you before flashing a sarcastic grin in response, his sharp canines now visible at the corners of his mouth.

"Come on, you didn't think this was gonna be as easy as just saying we're dating and expecting people to believe it, did you?"

Heat rises to your cheeks. "I- I don't follow." "It means," he says, taking a few slow steps towards you. "that you and I are gonna have to actually play the part. I mean if we're both all stiff-shouldered and awkward, ya think your aunt is really be convinced that we're actually dating?"

"I mean, it- it doesn't matter too much, right?"

God, you hope your face isn't as red as it feels. And then Jude is directly in front of you, both of his hands squarely planted on the desk as he looms over you. You're now certain that it is as red as it feels. It's unclear to you if you're more flustered over the blatant invasion of your personal space, or... no, you're not finishing that thought.

"Here's the thing, 'babe,' " he growls, his voice strained. "you can try and convince your aunt about whatever the fuck you want. I'm definitely not complaining if I don't have to bring the whole romance shtick along on the trip. That would be ideal, actually, cause there's no way I'm trying to shack up with you."

His face is now only inches from yours, hot breath slightly fanning across your cheeks. You think your heart has leapt straight into your throat. Since when has it been this hard to breathe?

"But with my family, you're not getting away with any of that half-assed crap. So whether you like it or not - and I can assure you that I for one don't -we're gonna have to get used to acting like a real couple. Otherwise, this isn't gonna work. Understand?"

You physically cannot move, only offering a blank stare in response. He smirks in a patronizing sort of way, seemingly mistaking your bewildered reaction for one of fear. As if he expected you to react this way all along.

"Unless, of course, princess prude here can't do that. So make your choice."

Hold on, is he trying to scare you off?

Oh, he definitely is.

He takes your momentary silence as an answer and chuckles.

"That's what I thought."

You've been described as a lot of things that you can agree with. Easily flustered, hard-headed, passionate... the list goes on. You've also been described as incredibly stubborn. Petty, too. And those statements are just as factual.

"Well, if you change your mind, I'll probably have until tomorrow before I go looking for a stand-in" Jude shrugs, finally backing up from your desk and turning toward the door.

"but otherwise, if you can't do it, we're probably done here-"

All things considered, you're guessing that he probably didn't expect you to stand from your seat and grab him roughly by the back of his shirt. He lets out a startled noise as you yank him towards you, forcing him to face you as your fist bunches in his collar. Pulling him down to meet you eye-to-eye, your response is forced from your lips with a ferocity that surprises even you.

"Try me." You regret the words the momont they leave your mouth. But you're too busy relishing in Jude startled expression to really care. He stares at you for a few moments longer, seemingly dumbfounded, before abruptly prying your hand off of him with a look of disdain. He smoothes out his shirt with a smile.

"Damn, didn't know princess prude had some balls on her."

Trying to maintain your false facade of confidence, you cross your arms stubbornly.

"The joke's only funny once. Don't call me that." And for a moment you swear he smirks, a smirk that's not full of hatred or sarcasm for once, but it's quickly replaced with his normal resting bitch face that you've seen so frequently over the course of the past semester. "Alright," he grumbles.

"Let me give you my number so we can plan shit out." You hand him your phone, and he quickly punches in his contact before carelessly tossing it back to you. It almost slips from your grasp, and you glare daggers at him as you fumble to recover it.

"Watch it, asshole." He just sniggers.

"Yeah, whatever. Anyways I'm blasting this dump. Later, princess prude." "I said, don't fucking call me that!"

You shout after him as he exits the room, fists trembling with anger.

"Whatever the princess commands."

"You're not funny!"

"Don't care." It's the last thing you hear before he disappears out of the room and down the hallway, leaving you to stand in place, furious, and process what exactly you just agreed to. Jude is your fake boyfriend. What the fuck?

It feels taboo to even think about. An even scarier realization that hits you with the speed of a freight train is that to everyone else, Jude is now your real boyfriend.

Crouching down, you wrap your arms around your knees and resist the urge to scream. By the time you make it through the rest of your classes and back to your apartment, you think you're about to drop dead on your feet. You'd been too focused on what had happened back in the empty room with Jude to really pay attention to any of your lectures, instead debating whether or not you should just call the whole thing off and stick to trying to pay your aunt back, or roll with it and move onto the next set of problems that would arise from sticking with it. Is he still going to tell people you two aren't actually dating? Are you still going to be outed as a liar?

God, you hope not. Hell, you'd even written out a whole pros and cons list during your last class, which you were now reviewing from the privacy and comfort of your bed.

PROS: No Tom (Jude is somehow more bearable, cause at least he's not a creep) Aunt + Mom are happy (no guilt-tripping) Don't have to pay aunt Sylvie back VACATION TO BAHAMAS??? Maybe won't be outed for "lying" (did I lie tho) Not permanent I'm technically doing something nice for someone else at

I'm technically doing something nice for someone else at the same time :))))

(kind of, fuck you Jude)

CONS: He's not Tom but he's also still Jude and that means that I have to deal with the asshole for basically a month

Family is gonna ask questions Prep stuff for the fake dating I guess Oh god do I have to kiss him??

Might still have to deal with the Rice thing and being called a liar Have to deal with HIS family asking questions And... that's about it.

At first glance, you try to convince yourself that both sides are semi-even, but... the cons are mostly superficial or just plain uncertain, now that you look at them. And the pros are stupidly strong and... shit.... The only big thing you'll be sacrificing is your dignity. And your time and patience. No, no. That's still worth something right? Maybe not. Are you seriously about to go along with this? And as if on cue, your phone buzzes with a text from Jude.

From: Jude

6:17 PM

Hey, I told Rice the rumors are true. Might be easier for you and I to keep our story straight. We can just tell him we broke up

You stare quizzically at the message for a few moments, sort of in awe. He still sounds as harsh as ever but this is... oddly considerate of him.

Did someone steal his phone or something?

From: Jude

6:19 PM

Your name in my phone is Princess Prude, just thought you should know.

Never mind.

Definitely the same guy.

From: You

6:20 PM

Why

From: Jude

6:20 PM

Cause it pisses you off

From: you

6:21 PM

was about to thank you for what I thought was a really nice gesture but now all I have to say is fuck you

You make a new contact name for him and send a screenshot.

From: Judyhoe

6:22 PM

The fuck? "Judyhoe?" You've got some meedy insults yk. And the feeling is mutual btw

He sends a middle finger emoji with nothing else, and you suppose that's the end of the conversation.

But despite all the insults, his infuriating personality, and the shit you're probably going to have to put up with...

At least he's not Tom

Naturally, Mason had been the first in your admittedly small social circle to know the truth; he was probably your closest friend on camp at this point. And considering the fact that you had kind of ghosted her since the end of training, you supposed it was only right to fill him in on what was going on.

That, and you weren't sure if you'd remain mentally stable enough if you'd kept all of this a secret.

"Are you shitting me?" Was the first thing he'd said when you'd finally picked up her calls. The whole ordeal had been explained over text - a tedious process, looking back.

But you'd just been too embarrassed to recount everything out loud.

"No," you mumble, rolling over in your bed so you can stare at the ceiling. "I swear I'm not."

You hear him inhale sharply, before he starts laughing like a maniac. Reddening, you clench your fists as you sit up in bed, shouting words of indignation into the speaker as he continues to cackle at your expense.

"You and Jude-" he seems to be almost laughing through tears.

"You guys are faking... This can't be real. You guys are like Arsenal and spurs!" Grumbling, you slouch.

"I know, and yes, it is real."

"Are- are you two sharing a fucking BED on your vacation?" He howls, trying to catch his breath, and you try your damndest not to hang up right then and there as your face goes aflame at his suggestion.

"No!" Comes your high-pitched squeal.

"Me? Share a bed with that asshole? He would probably suffocate me in my sleep!"

"I dunno, maybe it's the perfect time to figure out if one of you has a degrading kink-" Grinding your teeth, you glare down at your phone.

"If you don't shut up, I'm going to end the call." he half-heartedly apologizes as his laughter dissolves into giggles.

You just sigh, one hand rubbing at your temples. This is going to be a painfully long month.

"So..." he starts. "how do you honestly feel about it?" his tone is genuinely curious this time.

Humming, you search for an answer. "I don't know," is your honest reply. "I'm relieved, because it kinda solved three problems all at once but... I'm also really dreading the whole thing. I'm scared something's gonna get fucked up along the way."

A short laugh. "Fair enough. I'll be surprised if you two don't kill each other before the whole party thing." You silently agree.

"So like, to convince his parents, is he gonna have to practice kissing you or something?"

The sound that leaves your mouth is nothing short of a squeak. Oh, you can practically hear him grinning over the phone.

"Oh? Looks like someone isn't prepared. What if he pulls you onto his lap, huh? Wraps his arms around your waist..."

"That's not- Shut up!" is your garbled reply, throat constricting at the thought. "If I didn't know any better, you sound flustered~" he purrs.

No, you protest very firmly. You aren't flustered. You're just grossed out. The thought is appalling to you. One hundred percent. He can tell that you're lying. And shit, why the fuck is it making you flustered? He's a fucking dickhead. And you genuinely do hate him. But he's a hot dickhead, a voice in the back of your head whispers, and you try to beat it over the head with an imaginary baseball bat. Ok. Fine. He's attractive. You'll admit it. And you hate it, because otherwise, you wouldn't be nearly as flushed thinking about all of this.

And why do all the assholes get to be attractive??

You don't realize you've said all of this aloud to Mason until he bursts out laughing again, much to your embarrassment, and then you have to spend a whole five minutes shutting him up. He's not going to let you live this down. Not for a long while. The two of you continue to talk about the logistics of the arrangement for about an hour longer - you pointedly ignore a few of the sly jokes he slips in here and there - before he has to leave for his family dinner

And when the call finally ends, you can't help but feel a tiny bit relieved that this isn't a secret you need to carry alone anymore.

Your phone buzzes with a text.

From: money mase

8:49 PM Just always remember the importance of condoms and good ol birth control

You should've just kept your mouth shut. From: You

8:50 PM I have no idea why you're so convinced that we're going to do anything. This is literally a contract out of convenience.

From: money mase

8:51 PM That's what they all say, mate

From: You

8:52 PM The day I fuck Jude is the day you finally confess to Declan

He doesn't respond to that one. The rest of the night passes without much of a hitch. You do get a few curious messages on your social media asking about Jude, but you elect to ignore them for now, favoring the sweet embrace of sleep.

And when you finally manage to drift off to sleep after what feels like ages of constant tossing and turning, your dreams are filled with brown eyes that burn through your body over and over, until nothing of you remains but charred ash.

From: Judyhoe

8:15 AM Meet me today at my apartment after lunch so we can plan shit out for the party. I've only got one massage class, so I'll be here all day. And don't keep me waiting

Waking up to a text from Jude feels like whiplash. (a/n referenced the best movie to exist;)

And waking up to a text from Jude demanding you to come to his apartment, of all places, more so. And what does he mean by "plan shit out?" You mull over whether or not you should fake sick and bail, gingerly sipping at your coffee. But then comes the reminder that all of this technically counts as an obligation now, thanks to your poor critical thinking skills that are permanently coupled with your big fat mouth

You told him to send his adress. He does, and you can't help but gawk when you recognize the location because holy shit, it's in a really nice area in London. You always seemed to forget that some on the team lives by themselves rather than on camp like you. Simply out of convenience. Your cat rubs against your ankles with a purr, and you pick her up, scratching behind her ears as you silently pray that today won't be a complete disaster on your end.

Unfortunately, things are already looking glum. The stares are even more prominent today. Probably a result of Jude's confirmation with Declan about it all. You even overhear a huddled group of girls whispering as you pass, shooting you a few glares. You try your best to ignore it all, but by the time you slide into your seat at lunch, you want to do nothing but hide.

It'll pass, you think to yourself, desperate for consolation. He's basically a high class celebrity, so of course it's a hot topic. But it'll pass soon. Old news. Despite your anxiety about, well, everything, everything pass by far too quickly.

It's 4 PM before you even realize it. Wait, why are you so worked up over this? It's just a stupid meeting. Nothing weird is going to happen. It's just a result of everything Mason said last night. And even if you have to practice being... being a couple, it's not like he's going to do anything

Right? You should bail. But as you pull up his messages and start typing out an excuse to remain hiding at home with your cat, you can practically envision Jude calling you "princess prude" again, and it's all the conviction you need to erase the stupid message, grab your bag, and stride as you confidently head for his apartment.

The confidence lasts for a whole twenty minutes, until you reach the lobby of the apartment building. You're not sure if it can even be classified as a lobby, it looks more like a resort. There's even a bar to the right.

You instantly feel out of place, suddenly hyper-aware of your admittedly plain looking clothing in contrast to the other walking around in designer brands. Not because you couldn't afford them but because it wouldn't fit you.

Shit, maybe you should've worn something your aunt gifted you... You catch a few people giving you sideways glances, some hostile, others curious. Probably recognizing who you were. Pulling out your phone, you retreat to a corner and quickly send a text to Jude.

From: You

4:25 PM I'm here please come down idk how this place works and the posh people are staring at me

From: Judyhoe

4:25 PM are you serious

You wait for a few more minutes, idly shuffling your feet as you try your best to stay out of everyone's direct line of sight.

Not just because you definitely look out of place, but also because the people living here probably know Jude. Which means they also probably know about Jude.

Which means they also probably know about you. And there seems to be very mixed reception to that. And then you spot him coming into the lobby, adorning a plain black tank top and matching black sweats. And for a second, you want to laugh, because he looks just as out of place as you do.

But he very obviously isn't, judging from the way that everyone greets him as he passes.

He offers nothing more than a nod of acknowledgement in response, even to the two glammed up girls that try to rest their hands on his arms in an attempt to stop him long enough for a brief conversation.

He just shrugs them off and keeps walking, narrowed eyes scanning the room in search of you. Stepping out of your little hiding place, you try to nonchalantly raise a hand to catch his attention, hoping that no one takes much notice of you.

Jude spots you, and his eyes narrow even more as he storms over to where you awkwardly stand.

"Why didn't you just come up?" He hisses, stopping right in front of you. People are staring. "I- What do you mean?" His voice drops an octave, and hushes to nearly a whisper. "Do you know how this looks? How much attention we're drawing to ourselves?

"Shit, I told Mason to tell everyone it was true, but I didn't want it to be a fucking spectacle."

Trying to keep your expression neutral, you respond through gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry that I don't know how to navigate your huge apartment lobby. There's so many stupid hallways and rooms down here, why does it all look so fucking fancy and expensive?"

"What?you're literally a fotballer you are loaded."

"Yeah, but not posh loaded, everything is in the bank you i do not show it off dickhead," you huff indignantly, eyes darting around nervously. Jude looks like he wants to say more, but it quickly comes to his attention that the two of you are on the verge of causing a scene.

There's quite a few people watching the two of you, some more obviously than others. The two girls that tried to hit on him are muttering something to themselves and "subtly" pointing at you, something the both of you are quick to notice.

You can't help but shrink in on yourself, feeling exposed and more than a bit humiliated. Why the fuck couldn't he just act normal and wait until you were in private to tell you this? Jude's eyes flicker from them, then back to you. Then, with a scowl, he grabs your hand - not your wrist this time and pulls you along behind him to the other end of the lobby where he first appeared from. You can't fight the blush that works its way onto your cheeks as his calloused palm envelops your own. Since when is hand-holding this embarrassing? You feel as if you're committing an act of public indecency.

Thankfully, your previous anger helps to combat the unwelcome feelings, and you silently fume as he pulls you into one of the several elevators lined up along either side of the hallway. Punching the button to one of the highest floors, he finally lets go of your hand, and you can't help but sigh out of relief.

There's an awkward moment of silence as the elevator begins to rise. You stare at the excessive amount of decor. It's a fucking elevator, why does it need a mini- chandelier?

"I... thought you'd come earlier." Jude breaks the silence first. "London traffic ," you muttered. More silence. The silence lasts for the rest of the elevator ride. The doors ding open with a merry chime. and Jude steps doors ding open with a merry chime, and Jude steps out, hesitating briefly to ensure that you're following before striding down the hallway.

You trail behind, marveling at how your shoes slightly sink into the plush carpeting. The whole place is impressive to look at, actually, and you get lost in the painted gold embellishments on the light blue wallpaper.

So lost, in fact, that you don't notice when Jude abruptly stops in front of a door, turning to face you. You look back just in time to face plant into his chest.

Letting out a startled yelp, you quickly jerk back and lose your balance, falling straight onto your ass. He just stares down at you, dumbfounded, as you rub at your nose with a wince. Why the fuck is his chest rock solid? You think to yourself, groaning.

"Look where you're fucking walking," Jude mutters with a glare, extending a hand for you to take. Prick. You bat it away, stubbornly standing on your own with only a tiny bit of struggle. He just rolls his eyes and turns to unlock the door, cursing as he fumbles with the key. It jingles a few times, and then the tell tale click of the lock gives way. When the door is open, you can't help but eagerly follow him inside, admittedly curious to see what a rich boy's apartment looks like. Does he have a master bathroom? TV's everywhere? Maybe some gold bars lying around? It's just a whole lot of nothing, much to your disappointment. He throws his keys on the kitchen counter as you take in your surroundings with a raised eyebrow.

The whole place is... minimalist, to say the least. Save for a few dumbbells lying around, a couch in the living area, and a clean and tidy kitchen, the rest of the space is bare. There's obviously appliances and a large flatscreen TV, but you'd really expected... more. Maybe some gold curtains, a regal throne even. Jude walks over to the living room and throws himself on the couch.

"Is your nose ok?" He asks, kicking his feet up on the ottoman in front of him with his arms folded behind his head.

You're not sure if it's the sudden privacy, the recent memory of colliding face first with his chest, or the fact that his pose just really... accentuates everything, but it's then that you really realize just how tight his tank top is, how clearly it defines every dip and curve of his muscles underneath and... no wonder you busted your nose.

Shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up

Forcing a nod, you swallow thickly.

"Uh- yeah." He grunts in response, then finally hunches over to rest his elbows on his knees - much to your relief - before sending an apathetic glance your way.

"So."

"So," you mimic uncertainly, finally taking a seat as far away from him as possible.

"The party is in six days," he says.

"And let me tell you, there's gonna be a lot more to it than just acting like you're obsessed with me and... vice versa or whatever. You're gonna be around more..."

He trails off, scrunching his eyebrows. "How did you put it? "posh" people, innit. So yeah, you're gonna need to learn how to act proper and, y'know, when to finally shut the fuck up."

He says that last sentence with a smirk, and you glower at him from your position on the couch.

"Are you serious? 'Act proper?' What, you think I'm some kind of barbarian?"

A wolfish grin stretches across his face. "You? A barbarian? Nah, you're too ditzy to be a barbarian."

Ditzy. Your father's eyes darken as he leers down at you, teeth grit together. You try not to cry, ignoring the way your eyes water as the broken plate trembles from within your grasp. "Fucking brain-dead," he slurs, breath reeking of alcohol. "That's what you are. You gonna grow up to be as ditzy as your mother? Huh?"

"Don't say that." You can feel anger rising, reddening your cheeks, but you do your best to remain calm. He shrugs, your serious tone going unnoticed.

"Ditzy. There, I said it. I mean, you probably don't know shit about the customs, so-"

You stand, still trying to maintain your composure but everything feels a bit fuzzy now.

"I said, don't call me that." And the fucker just laughs, glaring at you like he's challenging you.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Because. I don't give a shit about the other nicknames, but that is something I don't want you calling me." Jude glowers at you for a few moments, before relenting with an eye roll.

"Fine. Jesus." And then he's blabbing off stuff about fancy customs, and you're finally starting to calm down, trying to tune in on what he's saying.

"My dad's kinda seen as the authority of the household, even though that's really my mom, but if you see him, you need to address him with respect."

You couldn't help but giggle a bit.

"Is that funny to you?"Jude's voice cuts through your thoughts, and when you turn to look at through your thoughts, and when you turn to look at him, he seems pretty pissed.

You just shrug, not really sure what to say. And Judd does not like that. "Hey, you might think all of this is a joke and that's fine, but my dad's cool. So just be respectful, asshole."

"I never said I wasn't going to be!"

"Then don't laugh when I tell you to be respectful!" You don't have a response to that, you'll admit. "Bitch," he mutters under his breath.

"Dick wad," you respond just as quietly.

"The fuck did you say?"

"Nothing, you stuck-up asshole." And the tension's back, thick in the air and hanging onto every spoken word. You stare each other down for what feels like an eternity, before you finally fold. This is all so exhausting.

"Ok, we can't do this anymore." He wrinkles his nose. "What?"

"This!" You gesture to him and then yourself. "We keep going for each other's throats and it's like, how are we supposed to pretend to be in love, when everything feels like a constant fight?"

"Not my fault."

"It's both of our faults!"

"You basically insulted my father," he growls. "You got pissy when I told you not to call me 'ditzy!' It was a simple request!" Jude groans, flopping back onto the couch to pinch his brow.

"Fine. What are you suggesting?"

Folding your hands together, you give him a stern look. "A truce."

He raises an eyebrow. "Which means...? Cause let's get one thing straight. I refuse to act like your little buddy buddy. We aren't friends." Sighing, you rub at your eyes.

"Ouch. That's not what I was aiming for, but thanks for the confirmation."

He just grunts, crossing his arms like a petulant child. "Ok, so then what?"

"No more fighting. No more trying to rile each other up every second of the damn day. That's what it means."

You stick out your hand.

"Just until the vacation is over. Alright? I'm not asking you to be friends." Jude looks at your outstretched hand suspiciously.

"So you're gonna actually listen to what I have to say about the party? The shit you're gonna have to learn?" You nod. "And you're gonna need to listen when I tell you not to call me something."

He thinks on it for only a second longer before grabbing your hand to shake it.

"Fine." And when the both of you let go, you almost want to celebrate because, score! Your fake-boyfriend maybe doesn't totally hate your guts anymore. Jude just scoffs, reaching into his pocket to fish out his phone.

Taglist: @valerysimps @like3dbypierregasly @enjoymyloves @capriaura @neymarssideboo @mad-die45

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham x reader #trent alexander arnold x reader #football imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x fotballer reader

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THAT'S WHY HE'S THE GOAT THE GOAAATT

FIFA World Cup Qatar 2022 Argentina NT celebrates the win with the people

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When is enemies to lovers part 3 posted?? Love your writing❤️

Ahhh thanksss:)) i said it would be today but i honestly forgot and I'm watching Argentina v France 😭 but i will try to publish it as soon as i can, i promise<33

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Thank you to everyone who got me to 100000 likes!

LITERALLY WTF 😭

#100000 likes #thank you #tumblr milestone

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Enemies to lovers

Part 1 Part 2

Jude Bellingham x baller!reader

(ongoing series)

Wc: 800

Warnings: swearing, insults

A/n: thank you for the love since the first part this one will have a lot more jude in it though;)

"What?"

Is the only conceivable answer you're finally able to squeak out, hands beginning tp tremble at your sides.

"I- People are saying what?"

Oh no no no no....

Someone. Had fucking heard you. But how????

Jude's eyes flash annoyed, shoulders stiffening.

"People," he grits out from between his clenched teeth, like you're too stupid to properly comprehend what he's saying.

And to be fair, maybe you are.

"are saying that we are dating. And I sure as fuck didn't go around saying bullshit like that."

You can't help but cower against the wall under his scrutinizing gaze, wishing that someone, anyone, would come by and help you out of this shitty situation.

This shitty situation that you might've somehow made for yourself, yes, but dammit, you deserve to be rescued from someone like Jude.

"I-"

"Don't play dumb, cause apparently Rice heard you saying some shit like that. And now it's spreading like fucking wildfire across camp."

He leans in even closer. The close proximity has you flushing despite the tense atmosphere, and you blanch, fumbling with your gym bag as it nearly slips from your grasp. Him being all up in your personal space is seriously messing with your concentration.

"Rice?" You finally stutter, like the oblivious idiot you are. "Like, Declan Rice?"

"Who else, dipshit?"

A thousand thoughts are racing through your mind because holy shit, out of all your teamates, Rice would've been one of the last people you'd ever want to overhear that particular conversation. The main reason being that anything gossipy that anyone tells him or anything he happens to bear apparently - will be broadcasted to the entirety of the team in a matter of hours.

So if he was the one to overhear your stupid blunder of words... It's no wonder you're fucked right now. But you'd checked the room, you're positive you did, and he wasn't there. So how...? And then it hits you, like a brick in the face. You forgot to look behind you. Like an actual idiot, too hurried to properly survey your surroundings.

"No," you laugh nervously, trying to wave him off in earnest and hoping that your internal panic doesn't manifest itself onto your face.

"no that can't be true. He probably... overheard something stupid I said and, y'know, just took off running with it."

Forcing another laugh, you trail off when you realize your words have had zero effect on him. In fact, he looks even more pissed off now, which you weren't aware was even possible at this point.

"So you said something?" A sharp question, and you realize your mistake far too late. Implying that Declan could've overheard something is only bound to incriminate you further.

You should've just denied it all from the beginning. "I definitely didn't!"

Comes the feeble protest from your lips. You both are aware that it's a truly pathetic attempt to dissuade him.

"Bullshit," he snarls, and you realize you've dug yourself into an even deeper trench. "I know Declan. He's a fucking gossip, but not a liar."

Trying to backtrack, because now he's thinking you're insulting his friend, you search for another escape route from this conversation. Anything at all to end it, so you can go and put yourself six feet under the second you get back to your room.

"No! No, I'm not saying he's a liar, I just-"

"You just! what?." He's even closer now, jaw locked in. Positive that if you press any farther into the wall, you'll fuse with it, you instead try to dodge to the side again. He doesn't let you, shifting his weight to the side, and you're unable to fight back the blush that spreads across your cheeks when you realize his lips are only inches from yours.

The day you kiss Jude is the day the world splits in half and rains fire and lava across every nation on the Earth.

Today is not about to be that day.

"Jude, training's is going to start-" He positions himself to block your way again, forearm completely pressed against the wall next to your head.

"You don't get to fucking run away right now, alright? So tell me what the fuck is going on."

"Nothing!"

"Then the rumors?"

"I don't know-!"

"No, I want the fucking truth."

"It was an accident!"

You finally hiss, squeezing your eyes shut in utter mortification, because holy SHIT this could not possibly get any worse right now. The sound of footsteps from farther down the hall squeaking to a stop alert both of you to the presence of an uninvited onlooker.

Both you and jude whip your heads around to face them, and you both stand stock still as a petite girl from the media team stands awkwardly in the middle of the hallway, clutching her bag tightly in her arms.

The universe is just full of surprises: it CAN get worse! It's very possible that you might go into cardiac arrest within the next few minutes.

Jude's still boxing you into the wall his chest nearly touching yours as you both flush bright red at the sudden intrusion.

To anyone not aware of the very hostile context of the situation at hand, you've both become hyperaware of the fact that your positions probably look... far from innocent.

Eventually she just giggles bashfully and passes by the both of you to enter the pitch, but not before she could take a picture of you both in the compromised position. She then proceeded to hurriedly say something along the lines of-

"youtwomakeacutecouple!"

"hey!" Jude tried to get her attention but she had scurried away out of sight. He knew it was too late and that the picture probably already been posted on all the gossip accounts on twitter by now.

You're legitimately too scared to look back at Jude. And for good reason, because you can hear how hard he's breathing right now.

If he was pissed before, you don't want to imagine how angry he must be right now.

"What the fuck did you say," he growls, still not moving from his current position. In turn, you choose not to respond, busying yourself with the scuffed floor beneath your sneakers as your heart pounds wildly from within your chest. Ah, yes. Linoleum. Your favorite.

"What the FUCK did you-" he starts again, pushing himself off the wall to stare at you in utter disgust, and you snap.

You're not sure if it's from the adrenaline of this whole situation, or if you've just lost almost all of your braincells in the past 24 hours, but you immediately step forwards after him and hold out a finger to press it firmly against his lips, silencing him in his tracks.

A ballsy move, that's for sure. "Shut up!" You whisper-shriek, your entire body vibrating with energy. "Just- shut the fuck up! I'll explain all of this after training, but I am... NOT going to be counted tardy because.. because of this!" The floor beneath your cleats klick as you turn on your heel towards the pitch, clutching your gym bag firmly and casting one last scathing look over your shoulder.

"Next time, ask me shit like a normal human being without just- trapping me against a wall, you fucking asshole! I can have ur ass in jail for that Bellingham. It's called harassment at workplace" you shouted.

And then you walk into the pitch, as if he's not about to eventually follow you and stand right fucking next to you and listen to coaches instructions.

But damn, did that feel good. Your victory is short lived however, because instead of waiting an appropriate amount of time to enter the room, Jude instead chooses to saunter into the pitch right after you. Like. Directly behind you.

The looks that you're getting from your fellow teammates are overtly obvious at this point, and you can only imagine what they all must be thinking.

You want to turn around and reprimand the shit out of him for not realizing the awkward position he's just put both of you in, for the second time in the past five minutes, but there's already been far too much attention on you today.

Jude surprisingly says nothing, choosing instead to turn away from you and stare off into space.

He seems lost in thought, you think. And for a brief moment, you wonder if you've finally put him in his place. Your phone buzzes, and you see mason from the other side of the pitch trying to catch your eye by "discreetly" waving his phone around like a traffic flagger.

Rolling your eyes, you slide your phone out of your pocket to face the inevitable. You immediately open your phone to see the three unread messages from earlier this morning, as well as a new one from a minute ago.

From: money mase

8:12 AM

YOU'RE DATING JUDE????

8:14 AM

swear down you do!!

8:20 AM

wtf is going on? I'm hearing about it all over camp, I didn't even know that people knew ur name ;P

Ouch.

9:14

UR WALKING IN TOGETHER????? IS IT TRUE???????? How big is it.

Gritting your teeth, you type out a response, fingers tapping the screen a bit harsher than necessary.

You can feel his expectant gaze focused on your form as you answer her.

From: You

9:15 AM

It's all a big shitty misunderstanding

His next text is immediate. And at this point you had no idea how no one had clocked you two being on your phones.

From: money mase

9:16 AM

So ur not dating?

From: You

9:16

AM Ok what exactly are people saying????

From: money mase

9:17 AM

Ok so Idk how it got spread but Rice's been saying something about you two dating and finally becoming official? And that was according to you??? I didn't hear the details but everyone's kinda curious since Jude is like Y'know famous for being him and there's a lot of angry fangirls ngl but he's a good looking boy, so I'm not surprised this blew tf up.

Groaning quietly,

You'd known Jude Bellingham to be a popular figure throughout the country, but his reputation had spiked considerably after that game, with people going as far as to making thirsty edits of him

Whatever.

You had still disliked him.

From: You

9:18 AM

I forgot about the fangirls. Idk how he even has any they don't know what he really is like...

From: money mase

9:20 AM

hahaha they like the bad boy vibe But yeah since some people knew you two were uh really cold with each other like in training and team bonding activities.

It came as a big surprise and Rice took off and made it into a whole hidden romance thing so it's got people weirdly intrigued. But main thing is he's claiming you were the one who said you and Jude were dating and idk he's a gossip but a reputable source soooo what's goin on?? >_>

Your coach begins to explain session course and you tuck your phone back into your pocket, mentally cursing every god in existence. Of course Declan just had to take one out of context conversation and turn it into a whole... real life fan fiction plot. Or something stupid like that.

What on earth are you supposed to do now.

You wind up pondering over that question for almost the entire rest of training, halfheartedly dribbling the ball past the dummies as you desperately search for a way out of this mess.

On one hand, you could try and ignore it all. Go about your life like nothing's wrong. But that would probably raise questions from people that you, quite frankly, wouldn't care to answer.

The other option is just telling Rice the truth, or at least saying you and Jude definitely AREN'T involved. So maybe he can spread that around instead. But you have a feeling that somehow, the whole thing might spin around on you, and you'll be branded as a liar, or worse: a creepy fangirl. You might even get kicked out.

The imaginary accusation makes you shudder. Dragging your hands down your face in exasperation, you snag a glance at Jude through the gaps between your fingers. He appears... less angry than you'd expected him to be. Considering everything that's happened in the past 24 hours.

brown eyes snap to meet yours. You panic and look away. Slapping a hand over your mouth, you stand in stunned silence as the guy in front of you just stares apathetically back at you. "I'm sorry-" you begin, but he scrunches his nose in disgust before you can finish.

You try to apologize again, stumbling over every word that comes out of your mouth, but he just turns away from you with a glare.

"Learn to speak properly you, prick," he mutters. Walking past you to greet James.

"keep ur mouth shut. Wouldn't want your fangirls hearing their little judy using such words, now do we?" you question with a lingering smirk playing on your lips. Only to be greeted by him simply turning his head glaring at you and mouthing bitch.

Nice going.

You've got half a mind to run like hell when training is finally over. But you did promise Jude that you'd explain, well, everything. And he's definitely holding you to that promise.

He stands up seemingly prepared to follow you out of the pitch again and it takes everything in you to not turn around and bap him on the head for not realizing that him tailing you so closely is bound to solidify the rumors in your fellow peers' minds. "Follow me," he grunts, slipping past you and into the aisle walkway.

Never mind.

Now you're the one following like a lovesick puppy. The thought of being that enamored with Jude grosses you out, so you discard it. It feels like everyone's looking now, though.

But the stares don't seem to bother him as much as they bother you, because he doesn't so much as bat an eye when a few of your teammates begin to whisper to themselves as they look at him, then at you, then back to him.

You scamper along behind him, willing yourself to become as small as physically possible so you can shrink away from the curious gazes that surround you. Leaving the classroom feels like a much-needed breath of fresh air, but you still notice a few students lingering around.

Jude leads you down the hallway and to the right, and from then on takes multiple turns and twists across the building until you find yourselves in front of the doorway to an empty room. The people have completely thinned out, and this wing of the facility seems completely abandoned.

You peer around his broad shoulders to get a good look inside. It seems like it's been abandoned for years now, with thin layers of dust coating nearly every surface and with thin layers of dust coating nearly every surface and cobwebs hanging from the ceiling.

He explains stiffly. "Used to chill here with Trent and James "

And then he's walking inside without so much as a glance backwards to ensure that you're following. He probably assumes you'll go after him anyways, the cocky bastard.

But you actually do, much to your own displeasure, so maybe it's not totally unjustifiable. It still pisses you off though. He stops in the middle of the room, staring absentmindedly at the ceiling with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

"I'm sorry about earlier." You nearly pinch yourself to ensure that, no, this isn't a dream, and the Jude Bellingham is actually apologizing to you for something.

"I shouldn't have grabbed you like that," he admits, his voice low. "Shitty move on my part."

"I- You're fine," you manage to stammer out, still dumbfounded at this recent development. The tension seems to visibly lift from his body.

Then, with a glance over his shoulder, he narrows his eyes.

"So... explanation. Now." Sighing, you trod over to an empty desk and plop down. You shouldn't have expected him to truly be any different than normal, you supposed. But, there's no time like the present. Might as well get this all over with.

"Ok, so... this all started because of my aunt Sylvie's wedding."

Fifteen minutes later, you've completely caught him up to date on the truth about what happened - as well as a tiny rant about just how much you desperately hate Tom - and finally finish your story, only to be met with an awkward silence.

He's turned to face you completely by now, having been listening intently with only a few subtle shifts in his expression. None that you could read, though. For all you know, he could be mentally plotting your murder right now. Swallowing your pride, you stare down defeatedly at your hands.

"I'm sorry," you finally whisper when the deafening quiet becomes almost unbearable. Because being honest, this mess is your fault at the end of the day. The least you can do is clean it up.

"I'll tell Rice, and hopefully he can just spread the truth around this time. Or, you can, if you haven't already. I don't know. And I mean, that's fine, I just don't want to put you in an awkward position, so actually if you want me to do it instead-"

"You need a plus-one?" The question catches you off-guard, and you stop mid- ramble.

"Excuse me?"

"The wedding," he repeats, rolling his eyes. "you need a plus-one to go?"

Nodding cautiously, you shift in your seat. "Yeah, my aunt's kind of a micro-manager about that stuff. I don't know why, but now she thinks I RSVPed so... I'll probably have to just pay her back."

He stares at you for a few moments longer, before cursing and roughly running a hand through his hair. You're completely perplexed now, unsure of why he asked such a question in the first place.

Does he feel bad or something? Why would he ever feel bad though? No, it must be something else. Turning to the side, Jude clicks his tongue a few times, foot tapping impatiently on the hardwood floor. He curses once more, then wheels around to face you again with resigned scowl etched onto his features.

You raise an eyebrow.

"I'll do it."

The words are so sudden and out of place that you can't help but bark out an abrupt laugh, quickly moving your hand to cover your mouth.

"What?" He takes a few steps closer, eyes still narrowed. "I said I'll do it."

"Oh my god, you're serious," you breathe, unsure of what emotion you're exactly supposed to be feeling right now. Because elated is definitely not one of them. Why the fuck is Jude, the guy with whom you share a mutual hatred, offering to be your plus-one to a week long wedding vacation?

Your romantic plus-one? Your first thought is that he pities you, but that seems unlikely even for Jude. So is he trying to score reputation brownie points by helping you out in this situation? What is going on??

You're about to flat-out refuse, not wanting to be some asshole's charity case, when he speaks again.

"But I need you to do me a favor in return."

(a/n) - chapter 3 comes out tomorrow

#jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham x fotballer reader #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold smut

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Sadly..It’s missing them hours

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omgggg enemies to lovers part 2 soon pleaseeee

I will post part 2 tomorrowww!!!

happy you liked it:)

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ENEMIES TO LOVERS

Part 1

Jude Bellingham x baller!reader

(ongoing series)

Sypnosis; it is clear that you and jude aren't very fond of eachother but what happens when both of you need to make a mutual deal?

Wc: 500

Warning: swearing, wall pinning:), jerk jude? (ik he is a sweartheart irl)

A/n: there's unfortunately a lack of enemies to lovers fics on jude so i decided to take matters in my own hands, yw;)

It had all started with one stupid mistake that snowballed into a complete catastrophe.

Because, you know, it seemed like that was the common trend with your life nowadays. You'd been in the common area, sketching a few mindless doodles after training when your mom had called.

For a brief moment, staring at your vibrating phone with a scathing hatred, you'd considered just letting it go straight to voicemail.

This would mark the... seventh? Eighth time this week? That she'd called to ask about the same fucking topic.

It was never, "Hi sweetie! How's it going at the club?" or "Honey! Are you feeling ok?"

Picking up the phone, you're met with the same line you've grown to memorize over the course of the past month or so.

"Have you found a plus-one to the wedding yet?"

The question has you pondering whether or not it would really be a bad idea to just discreetly smash your phone into the brick wall next to you. Repeatedly. So you can't take any calls for the rest of the month.

So fucking tempting. Instead, you just turn the volume up, pressing the small buttons a bit too hard in your small fit of annoyance. It's just quiet enough to not disturb the other students across the room, but loud enough so you can continue to sketch comfortably without having to put the phone to your ear.

Plus, no one's sitting close enough to hear you anyways. The cause of this whole plus-one fiasco was a result of your Aunt Sylvie's wedding.

Had it been under normal circumstances, you'd have merely taken a Friday off for classes and driven down to the chosen venue, had a grand time, and been back by midnight.

These were not normal circumstances.

Because your aunt has never affiliated with anything that could be filed under "normal circumstances."

Why? She's loaded. Like. "Vacation homes in Peru" loaded. Oh, and famous, too. One of the most successful football managers in your country, to be precise.

An elite coach, she got you to step a foot in the football world at a young age and teached you everything you know. And you commended her for it, you truly did.

The occasional "gift" of joining almost any club you wanted was always proved to be a welcome perk of being her sole niece.

And she was truly a good aunt to you; overall, a very sweet woman with some fat stacks of cash. And maybe a bit of a controlling streak.

So it wasn't too surprising that she got engaged soon after her rise to fame, to another baller. Nor was it very surprising when they'd announced their wedding details: a fully paid wedding destination trip to none other than the Bahamas.

For an entire week. At first, you'd been absolutely psyched. College loans meant vacations of any sort were always out of the question, so this was some sort of god-sent miracle to rest your fatigued brain.

She'd reserved rooms for all the guests at one of the most luxurious resorts, planned numerous exciting activities and events throughout the week such as snorkeling and jet-skiing, prepared top-tier food accommodations - everything. Quite literally the experience of a lifetime. And you were certain the wedding ceremony was going to be absolutely beautiful as well.

There was only one catch. Every guest needed a plus-one

As in a romantic partner plus-one. Some bullshit about couples activities, photo symmetry, and singles proving to be too costly by taking up more rooms - apparently even the filthy rich needed to worry about budgeting sometimes.

To be honest, you didn't completely understand it. But hurrah! Your mother had come to save the day! By trying to set you up with fucking Tom. The son of a long-time family friend, whom you'd quickly grown to despise.

He was just... not it. At all. If you had to use one adjective to describe him, it would be slippery. Because he's as greasy as he is deceiving, you think to yourself sourly as you tighten your grip on your phone.

You'd had one too many bad encounters with him that just teetered on the edge of being socially unacceptable enough to warrant him a ban from family events.

But he was smart enough to take note of that, and often just barely toed the line around you, hence why your parents didn't see anything wrong with trying to get you two together for the wedding.

Despite your numerous protests and refusals, of course. Your mother's voice in your ear reminds you that you've forgotten to respond, and you just sigh, pinching your brow.

You'd tried getting a plus one! You really had! But it seemed like despite the whole "all expenses paid vacation" bait you'd used to keep any potential candidates on the hook, no one really felt like coming along as your romantic partner.

Especially not after one date. With a girl they met on Tinder. Fuck! There's a good chance you've been placed on a list for suspected organ traffickers at this point.

"Honey?!! Your mom asked again.

You don't want to cancel on a luxurious trip like this, but also, the thought of having to share a room with Tom, let alone act like his date, is enough to make you reconsider. Who knows what that creep would try to pull?

And then the doors to the common room open and in walks the infamous quartet that seems to be known everywhere across camp: James Reece, Trent Alexander Arnold, Phil foden, and of course, Jude. Your training partner for the upcoming World Cup.

"Honey? Did you find someone to be your plus one??" Her pitch rises a few octaves with excitement. For some reason, you're not really paying attention, just looking at the group, and specifically, Jude.

Man, fuck that guy.

"Uhh..." is all you can respond with, still distracted. And to be honest, you're not sure why.

He seems to be in a foul mood like always, teeth grit as he lets out a slew of insults towards his friends, who merely laugh good-naturedly in response.

And for a brief moment, he turns towards you. Your eyes meet, his crimson irises seemingly studying you intently, before he just curls his lip and turns away. Bitch. You scowl back at him. Out of everyone you could've been partnered up with, it had to be him.

Despite your best efforts or admittedly, failures he'd - turned down any prospect of friendship, or even a simple truce between the two of you, which had made this past season difficult.

Especially with partner duality as we call it where we basically have you compete with our partner. Those were awful to deal with. A small voice reminds you that although you did try to be nice, you kind of stuck your foot in your mouth and made a pretty awful first impression at the beginning of the season You bash the small voice with the one who held a grudge.

And for some reason, whether it be the frustration with the whole wedding situation, or because you just really hate seeing his face, you begin to sort of angrily fixate on him, as if you're silently blaming him for all of your current problems right now.

And so, not by your own accord though, your mind wanders. That fucking look he gave you. Like you were nothing but an insect for him to regard with absolute disgust. You knew being the only women to play with men would backlash. Even though you earned your spot and worked hard to get to your position despite your aunt being who she is.

You imagine confronting him someday, asking why he has to be such a complete jerk to everyone he encounters in his miserable life.

"What's his name?" Her question doesn't fully register, and to be honest, you've completely forgotten what she's talking about.

You're too absorbed in your own thoughts about your asshole of a teammate, and in this moment, the question seems to relate to just that. And so, you make a horrible mistake.

A truly, truly horrible mistake.

"Jude," you mumble with a glare, still focused on the retreating form of the brunette. There's silence. The four men exit the room.

"You found a plus one!" Comes the shriek of celebration, and you're immediately startled out of your stupor and almost drop your phone onto the floor.

"Jude, huh? Is that his first name or his surname? How long have you known him? Is he nice? Wait, you need to tell me the details later, I have to go call your aunt and tell her the good news! Oh, I'm so proud of you!"

What?

"Wait, WAIT!" You try to interrupt, your notebook almost falling out of your lap as you lurch forward to bring the phone to your ear, but she hangs up before you can explain, leaving you with nothing but a dead line.

At first, you're too stunned to process what just happened. And when the realization finally dawns on you, the only rational decision seems to be: freak the fuck out. You try to call her back repeatedly, but the line is busy, and you assume that she's probably too busy gushing to your aunt about your "brand new boyfriend."

Oh, fuck. You bury your face into your hands, mortified that your mother now thinks you're taking Jude, of all people, as your stupid plus-one. And now she's gone and told your aunt. Fuck. You now have to tell them both the truth before this all gets too out of hand...

...And you'd rather do that from within the privacy of your own apartment. With a quick glance around the front of the room, you're pleased to note that nobody's looking at you funny or whispering to themselves, like you'd feared.

Maybe using speakerphone hadn't been the best decision, but the commotion that surrounds you has gone on like normal, and nobody even bothers to give you a second glance as you get up to leave.

Thank god nobody heard that, you think shamefully to yourself, snatching up your bag and hurrying out of the room.

Declan Rise finally turns around from the seat directly behind you to watch you leave, mouth agape in pure shock as he silently mumbles a "no wayyy-" And then, he whips his phone out and begins texting.

It takes about two hours before you're able to get ahold of your aunt. And she gives you the exact same treatment your mother did, if not worse.

"Darling!" She exclaims as soon as she picks up. "I am so overjoyed to hear you'll be able to attend the wedding! You're my only niece you know, and I was afraid you'd cancel on me! I just simply couldn't have dealt with that. The bridesmaid coordinations would've been thrown off entirely!"

"Actually," you begin with an awkward laugh, but she cuts you off. "Well, in other good news, you were actually the last person we needed to RSVP so the fiancé and I have officially booked everything! I'll have your ticket details sent to you within the next few hours. And I am so looking forward to meeting Jude, he is an excellent player! Even though I'm not that keen over you dating a fellow college who am I to stand in the way of true love! Just don't tell the rest of the world just yet I do not think they would take it that well. But you will have to tell me what he's like."

You try to speak again, starting to explain the situation, but she doesn't respond. There's a muffled voice from somewhere in the background, and she's silent for a few more moments before she clears her throat and giggles.

"I have to run, darling. I'm going to a meeting. But I'm just- I'm so excited! I'll see you in three weeks~" She hangs up. And you're left to sit on your bed, absolutely dumbstruck, because it seems that literally NOBODY is willing to let you get a single word in today. But now, there's a real problem.

She has reserved you and your NOT-boyfriend Jude spots at her wedding. Her ultra-expensive vacation resort wedding. And you sure as fuck can't pay her back for all of that if you decide to drop out last second.

Not that you think she'd charge you, but you'd assume it would be the most respectful thing to do in such a scenario

However, it's that... or go with Tom. You crash face first into your pillows and scream.

The universe is probably laughing in response. First day of the world cup training. You were really looking forward to it since it was theoretical and noy out on the field just yet. Today we were just taking it easy and just start out with a game plan on the board.

Each row sat two people, and you absent-mindedly wondered who you'd be paired up with. And as it turned out, you didn't have to wonder for long.

So here you are, standing awkwardly by your desk and trying not to full on gawk at Trent who's supposed to be sitting next to you for the rest of the season. Holy, shit. He looks like a fucking model, with his perfectly tanned skin and sharp crimson eyes that regard you without a single hint of interest.

His shoulders are broad, as well as his chest, and you can't help but let your eyes linger on his lips- Internally slapping yourself, you try your best to smile in a not-creepy way, forcing yourself to go back to a more normal headspace as you stick your hand out in greeting.

What you meant to say was "Hi," and then introduce yourself with a little, "hey?" But for some reason, you can't help but fumble your words like an idiot. So instead, you decided to just keep quiet anf not embarrass yourself even more.

You wake up the next day, groggy and disoriented. You'd been up all night trying to figure out how the hell you were going to get out of this, because if you tell your mom now, she's definitely going to guilt trip you into going with Tom. And speak of the devil, she sent you a text.

From: Mom

Hi honey! Good morning! I hope you're having a good day. And you better tell me all about this Jude guy soon

At least she's actually sending you good morning texts now instead of suspicious download links to dating websites! So, maybe paying your auntie back isn't such a bad option. At least less than 5,000$, right?

She messages you again. You groan, and pointedly ignore the text, along with a few others from your best friend mason who instantly clicked with you since you first started your career at the National team, tossing your phone off to the side as you roll out of bed to get ready for your first training.

You'll read them all later. And hopefully you'll get all of this bullshit sorted out later too, but for now, you just really need a coffee. Your cat jumps onto the bed with a loud purr, reminding you that it is, in fact, breakfast time.

At least for her, anyways. You stroke your fingers through her soft fur, smiling as she keens into your touch. Perhaps it won't be so bad. You'll get through this, no matter the outcome.

But something's off today, you note, as you make your way to the rest of the team forty minutes later. For some reason, it feels like a lot more people are looking at you than normal. Not a huge change, but you can feel a few lingering gazes that make you more than a bit uneasy

You quicken your pace. The attention - or more likely your own paranoia - only worsens as you make your way towards training, trying your best to keep calm.

Ok, something is up. Is there a hole in your shorts? An embarrassing stain you hadn't noticed? Fuck, you'll have to ask Mason when you see him. You swear if it's something along those lines, you're going to lose it. As if shit isn't already stressful enough for you. The group of people working at the camp start thinning out as everyone rushes to there oh so important planning for the upcoming World Cup, and you feel like you can finally breathe normally again.

The pitch is right up ahead, and you make a beeline for it, ready to find out if you really did publicly humiliate yourself in front of half of the team just by walking to training. But you never actually make it into the pitch

Because right as you're about to go outside through the doorway, someone yanks you to the side and against the wall beside it. You yelp, wincing at the sudden motion. It didn't hurt but it sure did startle the shit out of you.

Jude's eyes are boring right into yours, only inches from your face as he towers over you. Oh come on. You try to move away from him with a glare, but he keeps you firmly in place.

"What the hell are you doing?" You hiss, indignantly staring up at him. He doesn't respond. On any normal day, you would've shoved him off with a parting gift of some choice words and maybe even the middle finger as a garnish on top.

But this feels... much different from the usual spats you both have. You flinch away as he snarls at you with a scathing venom that drips from his every word.

"Why the FUCK am I hearing that we're dating?"

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