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Two days before England face Norway in the World Cup quarter-final, Jude Bellingham is the only one who can't seem to keep it together in training, so when a careless plan to use his own scent against Erling Haaland backfires halfway through the match, it drags an old, unfinished thing between them right back to the surface.
Bookmarked by luffyholder
11 Jul 2026
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“You’re pouting, Jude, like a child,” Erling had said.
“I’m not a child,” he’d defended himself.
“Oh? You are a big boy now?” Erling’s mouth was curled conspiratorially, and Jude thought he must have imagined the glint in his eye, though he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he had not.
Or, Jude is alone with Erling for the first time in a long time.
He makes bad decisions.
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Bookmarked by luffyholder
11 Jul 2026
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The line goes silent. Dead silent, at least from Jude’s end. Erling hopes, prays, even, that Jude can hear him fucking his fist. That in whatever hotel bed he’s staying in, Jude’s fisting the sheets, maybe his cock, too, to the mental image Erling is painting for him.
“Are you seriously doing what I think you’re doing?” Jude’s exactly where he wants him, back to the goal, locked onto him, and only him.
“Depends,” Erling huffs. It sounds gruff, even to his own ears. “What do you think I’m doing?”
or Haaland feels...inspired by recent social media trends to give his old friend Jude a call.
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Haaland performs exceptionally in a match, and his teammate Jude is always fond of showing him some appreciation
Bookmarked by luffyholder
10 Jul 2026
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“I want to help you.”
He reaches upward, pinching the waistband of Jude’s maroon boxers and slowly pulling them down, waiting for the younger man to disapprove, waiting for him to storm out of here and never speak to him again. He finds his own actions becoming uncontrollable, both of their dense scents swirling in the air, and it’s suddenly suffocatingly addictive to bathe in Jude’s pheromones.
Jude goes into heat before a game, and who would Haaland be if he didn’t help his… friend?