realized it's been a while since i showed up! might not be that good, but hope u enjoy it :)
You weren’t even sure why you and Jude kept constantly fighting. You both worked well together — he was a good, consistent partner and he never took anything out on you. Everyone around you could go on about how the two of you were almost a match made in heaven, with tempers that combined, made a great couple. However, those tempers were exactly what led to so many pointless, useless arguments.
You had been arguing the whole ride back to your place, where he was supposed to sleep at that day. Neither of you remembered exactly how it started — the meaning losing somehow behind the amount of alcohol both of you had while clubbing. You were complaining about something while Jude tried to take deep, long breaths before always replying drying and sarcastically.
When you arrived and left the car, you turned to him after you opened the door up.
“You know what, Bellingham?” You asked. He always hated when you called him by his last name. “Just turn around and go home. I don’t want you here.”
“And I—” he held the door as you tried to shut in his face, failing miserably considering how taller and stronger he was, and he walked inside your place. “Don’t care. I’m staying here, sweetheart.”
You rolled your eyes and huffed as he sat down on your couch. He was just as bothered as you, if not more, but you were too mouthful when it came to fighting. You stood in front of him once he turned on your TV.
“You’re sleeping here. On the couch.”
He laughed dryly at your attempt to command him. Since you were on his way of watching the TV, he held your waist and, in one, swift move, pulled you onto his lap.
“You’re so fucking annoying.” He muttered in your ear as you began to shift uncomfortably on his lap. You had always hated how easy it was for him to manhandle you, to move you around; but, above all, you always hated how much it affected you, despite every attempt of yours to ignore it. It was like the words you said before were nothing to your body and mind.
You got quiet, and you could hear the movie he had put on behind you. The quieter you got, the calmer you got. Jude still held your waist on a tight grip, not wanting you to move nor leave his lap.
You shifted on his lap once again. Except, this time, you found yourself between one of his thighs, and your skirt and the thin piece of fabric protecting your cloth were doing only so little to avoid the friction, and you gasped before you could process it. Your boyfriend, of course, noticed it.
“You okay there, darling?” He asked, his cocky tone showing once again because he could tell where you mind was when your eyes met. “Aren’t you the one who always says sex doesn’t solve fights?”
You knew he was teasing you, but getting a rise out of you was always too easy.
“I swear to God—”
Jude chuckled, leaning his head against your couch and using his hand on your waist to move you around his thigh, guiding the moves your hips made and the friction of your covered cloth against him.
“Shh,” he hushed you gently in your ear. “Know how much you like it. Just shut for a second, alright?”
It was not like your body had any will to say no when he was moving you against his thigh so deliciously. Your head fell to his shoulder once the friction got to your clit, and that was when his hand began to slide lower down your body.
His fingers worked their way to your core, tossing your panties to the side as the fingertips of his middle and ring finger collected the wetness in your slit, teasing you up and down as you squirmed. You could already feel yourself panting, and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, Jude or the meaningless argument. Perhaps a combination of both, considering how much, deep down, you loved when he shut you up.
“Can’t resist you when you wear those skirts around me.” He mumbled against your collarbone as he spread kisses. His fingers were now moving in circular motions against your clit, and your hips subconsciously moved to follow his movements. You whined in his ear, and he could feel his uncomfortable bulge growing on his pants.
“Jude—”
You didn’t even need to ask. Not when he knew what you wanted. Slowly, his two fingers were inside you, but he didn’t move them. You were more frustrated than ever – having his fingers inside you was better than nothing, but you needed him to move them.
“I won’t do a thing. You’ll have to ride them by yourself.” He whispered in your ear, and you moaned out of frustration and arousal. “And you’ll be really, really quiet.”
Before you could protest, two fingers of his other hand were inside your mouth. He moved them enough to make you gag, and your hips were moving again. At first, slowly, to see if Jude would do anything. When you realized you were truly all by yourself, you began to move faster, erratically and desperately, trying to find the right angle as you used his fingers. He watched as you squirmed and clenched around his fingers, and he wanted to fuck you so badly.
But he needed to teach you how to shut up at times. Maybe it’d stop the nonsensical arguments – though a part of him didn’t want that to change.
He curled his fingers inside you just enough to reach the spot he knew you needed, and you rolled your eyes back. When he noticed your moans getting louder, he sank his fingers further down your throat, and you rode him faster until you finally, finally came.
He took his fingers out of your mouth and chuckled once you crumbled down on top of him.
“You sound so much better when you’re quiet,” he joked in your ear as you tried to catch your breath. You whined when he took his fingers off you and led it to his mouth, tasting your juices like it was the last thing he would be able to do.
“Maybe I should stop arguing.” You agreed with him after a while, your eyes shut as you kissed his neck softly.
“You know,” he smirked. “If I get to shut you up like this, I don’t mind having you bitching in my ear at every 5 seconds.”
You laughed softly and rolled your eyes, leaning away just enough to stare into his beautiful, big brown eyes. At moments like this, you were sure there was no one else in the world for you but Jude.
“Dickhead.” You mumbled.
“Careful, smart mouth.” He smiled. “Because I’m not leaving any time soon and, as far as I’m concerned, I’m always very keen to shut you up.
cw… bdsm, caning implied, consent, handcuffs, restraints, blood, wrist pain, a lot of pain, doggy, slightly edited, bruises, etc
notebook… Yall college has been nothing but fucking awful. So yeah I disappeared. Hopefully next semester is better, ALSO I am starting a book. I want to write a romance vampire novel with adventure. (This is totally gonna take me five ish years with this fuck ass schedule of mine.)
Your hands slipped consistently off the wooden board, your knees cushioned by the mattress below. The comforts for your knees meant nothing, your heart beating each pump being loud within your ears. Your ass covered in red streaks, dark spots slowly spreading around. Your body shivered as if it was the coldest day of the entire year; funnily enough, your body was warm, so warm you were dripping down your own legs.
“Had enough?” A deep voice from behind whispered beside your ear; it was strong, loud enough to overshadow your own heart. Your mouth covered by your own panties, drool dribbling down your chin. The lacy fabric bought for this special night is no longer where it was supposed to be. Your wrists were burning, the metal no longer soothing amongst the skin. Your makeup smeared all over your face, your lipstick no longer perfectly aligned around those two lips.
“Mhm.” You weakly attempted to speak, your jaw being locked in place. The pain forced your teeth to clench so tightly the gag did nothing to stop you from talking; it was your jaw. Your hands continuously attempting to grab onto the wooden headboard, no use; the wetness on them causing your wrist to lose grip and hurt your wrist over and over.
“I doubt it; you did this to yourself.” His beautiful two-toned lips pressed right at your temple. Your appearance did not display your true enjoyment. Jude was your lover after all; he would never harm you if you did not want this. It all started because he was curious; you joined him on this journey, and here you were. On your knees, wrist stinging, ass covered in bruises, most importantly dripping wet.
“You want me to fuck you?” His hand raised to your hair and pulled it back. Your face looking rougher than before. “Touch your clit like you want? Just beg, baby.”
“Mhm.” He smirked at the desperate whine. He was wearing only a button-down and dress pants. He let go of your head, forcing your head to drop down at such movements. He made you look at him, gripping your chin and forcing you to look at his every move. His hand pushing against the sleeves and folding them over. One by one, his large hands removed a button from his dress shirt. Only a few were left before he moved to his dress pants.
“You worship me so well, baby.” His lips raised to a smirk, and he pushed your head away. He climbed onto the bed; there his hand touched your bruised ass. “Your poor ass, I’ll take good care of you.” You heard him lowering his boxers from behind you. In minutes you felt his cock prodding at your cheeks. His hand reached for your hair; he gripped it, wrapping it in his hand. Forcing your head back.
“Good girl.” His other hand touched your warm, shivering body, gripped at your waist; he loved every mark on you, the one he made on you, and the scars you brought before you two ever met your beautiful marks. You called them blemishes; he would never. “You don’t deserve prep.”
“MHM!” A cry erupted; your body weakly attempted to grab at the board, the sweat causing them to slip. You felt it, hips being rocked in and out of you. This is all you wanted: you needed him, to be close to him. Perhaps a few would call this brutal or disgusting. You paid no mind to other opinions. Jude was your world, and making him happy and yourself happy is all that matters.
His hand raised, slapping at your left ass cheek, his other hand still holding your hair, forcing your head back. His cock going into your dipping wet cunt, from all the pain inflicted on your body, you were needy. Desperate for him to finally fill you up with what you desired, he enjoyed this foreplay. He loved it; you rarely ever used the safe word. He knew pain made you needy, and watching you in pain created a monster from within.
“So tight,” he groaned, “taking me so well.” His hand that slapped your ass caressing the bruises, even during these harsh sexual encounters, you felt the tender touches he allowed linger. You could only imagine the face of pleasure he currently held. The way his beautiful brown skin complimented yours. The way his dress shirt is messed up, your eyes were shut, creating an image in your mind.
It took several thrusts into your cunt to cause the feeling to slowly become unbearable to ignore. It tingled from within. Causing you to moan into your panties. His thighs hitting your bruised ass caused pleasure and pain. You eventually managed to grab at the headboard, your hair still being in his grip.
“Getting louder and tighter, baby.” You tried to nod, but his hand gripped your hair tighter, preventing you from nodding. His thrust was clean and precise; it hit the right spot every single time. The feeling of an impending orgasm no longer allowed you to ignore it. You wanted to cum; you craved his touch. You knew he was having an ego boost, not just from just handling you so well but from his successes. He was extremely successful, scoring goals in every single match—an impressive feat for a midfielder.
“You want to cum?” There was a hint of playfulness in his tone. He knew you wanted to cum, and he had no intention of stopping you. He held a plan to fuck you even after you cum. He was close; that was not something he could deny. He wasn’t as close as you thought. “I will allow you to cum; all you have to do is spit those panties out and beg.”
In a matter of seconds, you tried to spit the panties out; unfortunately, it wasn’t easy. It slipped out of your mouth with more drool than anything. “Please, Jude, let me cum. I’ve been good!”
“Good girl.” He gripped your hair even tighter; finally, he could hear your gasps and moans without the panties in your mouth. He wanted to hear you cry out in pleasure when you cum. “Go ahead.” He thrust harder than before; his free hand, no longer on your cheek, snaked down to your clit. His long and skinny fingers rubbing circles with the right pace.
“Shit.” Your cunt clenched on him tightly, and your legs shook with fury. Your hands lost grip once more on the headboard, and with his permission, he let go of your hair. Your head dropped, followed by his hands gripping at your waist and quickening the pace, thrusting with purpose. You cried out in pleasure, the orgasm washing through you; immediately you realized he wasn’t stopping. “Too much!”
“You asked to cum, baby; you made the choice.” Your ears picked up the teasing tone. You could not stop the shaking, the pain of being overstimulated. He did not stop his two fingers rubbing at your clit. He ignored your pleas; he was chasing the high he deserved. He pleased you, and it was your turn to treat him. “Ugh! Fucking close!”
You tried hard to pull away, but each time was futile; his body thrust deeper each time, and he would press just a little harder on your clit at your attempts. Your tears quicken down your face, your wrist becoming almost naked by the rubbing. You were no longer grabbing onto anything, causing your wrist to ache in pain. His thighs began to tense, his thrust kept at the pace, not slowing down for a second.
“So fucking good!” He smirked at how he was close. Then there it was, the feeling of being full. You were about to orgasm once more, and you knew this one had something else. You cried louder, begging him to slow down; he could care less. Then it happened; he thrust so deep he felt you clench harder than before, and a grunt left his lips. His head was thrown back, and that was it. Your body burst in pleasure, and the sheets below you were covered by your own sweet liquids. Your legs shook so much you no longer supported your knees, and you fell down, his cock slipping out.
“How pathetic; you ruined our sheets.” He groaned in pleasure, his cock dripping his cum; your cunt was full already. He climbed over you gently and removed the key from his neck and unlocked your wrist. He would never let you lie there exhausted and your wrist aching. He loved you too much.
summary: jude and trent make a no sex bet but jude loses bc of you | MDNI 18+
warnings: thigh riding, dirty talk, power play, public teasing (phone call), language
💌: unhinged notes app chronicles pt. 4 😀 pretend it’s november i’m posting early
wc: ~783
Jude was oblivious to the chaos you were about to unleash upon him while he sat on the couch, chatting on the phone with Trent one day. This ‘No Nut November’ bet he placed with Trent was cute at first, but after a week of seeing him walk around the house shirtless with an assortment of joggers and shorts hanging low on his hip with no relief, you had enough.
It was time to put an end to this nonsense.
Wearing just Jude’s oversized shirt with panties, you strolled over to the couch with your eyes locked on his lap. Jude’s attention was still on the phone while his leg bounced slightly; his muscles flexed with each movement underneath his shorts. His bulging thigh vein was basically taunting you, begging you to take a seat and enjoy the ride.
You straddled him swiftly and the friction from your panties rubbing up against his thigh had you seeing stars already. Jude glanced at you with his brow raised but kept talking to Trent even though his grip on the phone tightened. A wicked grin spread across your face and you started grinding against him, your wetness already soaking through your panties and onto his thigh. Jude stiffened and looked up at you, parting his lips slightly while resting his hand on your hips, but he kept up the conversation on the phone with Trent like nothing was happening.
“Yeah, I – aah – I think I saw something about that the – goddamn – the other day..” he mumbled in a low tone. It was clear you were becoming a distraction for him. With a smirk, you palmed his dick through his shorts, feeling him harden instantly. He groaned and you leaned in closer to whisper in his ear.
“I’m so wet, baby. Don’t you want to feel how wet I am?”
Jude’s jaw clenched and you could tell his control was slipping when you felt him twitch underneath your hands. You thought you heard Trent question your boyfriend about something, but you didn’t care to listen to their conversation..you were focused on one thing.
“Nah…I didn’t hear anything. Must be the telly you just heard.” Jude muttered over the phone in a strained voice as you started stroking him through the fabric of his shorts. His grip on your hips strengthened, surely to leave a mark by the time you were done with him.
He was crumbling fast.. so you took it a step farther by rolling your hips harder against his thick thighs, moaning softly from the friction. After a while, you shifted on his lap to grind against his dick instead of his thigh.
“Jude..” you moaned louder this time, arching your back. “Fuck me please.”
His hand flew to your mouth to muffle your moans. “Trent, hold on. Give me a minute.” Jude gave you a look, speaking in a low tone. “Be quiet for me, yeah?”
You nodded, muffling a “mhm” against his large palm. Your hands slid inside of his shorts to wrap your fingers around his cock, stroking him slowly and deliberately. He was trying to fight it, but a low groan escaped his lips when you ran your finger over the tip to spread a bead of pre cum. Eventually his hand fell from your mouth and you brushed your lips up against his ear.
“You’re so hard for me.” you teased seductively. “Don’t you want to cum inside me, baby?”
Jude didn’t answer and instead moved his hand down to yank your panties to the side, dipping his fingers between your folds to play with your clit. He watched you writhe against him, entranced by the sight of you losing yourself on his long fingers.
“Bro..I–” he started, but he couldn’t get his words together on the phone now that he was completely focused on you. You slid his shorts down and teasingly positioned his dick at your opening, grinding against him back and forth to wet his cock with your slickness.
“Mmm..Jude.. I think you’re about to lose...” you whispered.
He dropped the phone and pushed himself into your pussy, making you moan loudly from the fullness you felt. His thigh wasn’t the only thing thick and veiny.
“Mate..I gotta go.” Jude stammered as he thrusted into you again, unable to hold back his groans. “Fuckkkk. Baby you’re so tight. Couldn’t wait for me to fill you up, huh?”
On the other end of the line, Trent’s laughs roared through the phone. He added some commentary before he hung up.
“You’re done bro. Send my money and give my thanks to Y/N. Can’t believe it only took a week. You’re no match for her.”
summary: turns out being a passenger prince has its perks…
warnings: SMUT (MDNI), car sex, semi public/public sex, dom/sub if u squint
wc: ~921
a/n: unhinged notes app chronicles pt 3 🙂↔️
You tapped the steering wheel playfully, smirking at Jude in the passenger seat next to you. The streets of Madrid were quiet and lit by the glow of streetlights as you made your way back to Jude’s place.
“I can’t believe you still don’t know how to drive” you teased. “Real passenger prince vibes.” Jude rolled his eyes but you could see he was restless, he kept fidgeting in his seat, glancing at your legs.
“Shut up Y/N,” he grumbled, but there was playfulness in his voice. His large hand moved to causally rest on your thigh. “You’re always chatting shit.” You laughed softly, opening your mouth to make another snarky comment but the words died in your throat once his hands slid up your thigh, grazing the hem of your shorts. The sensation made you bite your lip, your pulse increasing.
“Jude…” you start, but he cut you off.
“These little shorts you’re wearing..” he muttered, his fingers were dangerously ghosting over your pussy and you were already getting wet. “You wore them on purpose, huh?” You gripped the steering wheel as his fingers brushed over the fabric, your foot pressed more on the gas pedal instinctively.
“We—“ you gasped as his thumb pressed up against your clit through the thin fabric, swirling in deliberate circles. You sucked in a breath, squirming under his touch. “We’re not gonna make it home if you don’t stop.”
“Then park somewhere” he said impatiently. “I’m not waiting til we get home baby. You wanted to tease me, so I’m gonna fuck you right here in the car.”
You swore under your breath as his other hand wrapped around your throat with enough pressure to leave you dripping with need. His thumb from the other hand was still tracing over your clit, working you through your shorts and you were close to losing it.
“F-fuckk, Jude..” you moaned, your eyes flicked over to the side of the road. You pulled over into a dark, quiet area and the second you shifted the car into park he was on you.
“C’mere. Climb over” he commanded. You moved over the console, breathless until you were straddling him in the passenger seat. You could feel how hard his cock was as you grinded against him, the outline of his dick showed through his joggers. You couldn’t control yourself anymore and moaned loudly. He gripped your ass, and slid his other hand back to your neck to hold you in place. “You’re so fucking loud, Y/N. Tell me what you need,” he whispered, kneading your ass with his hand.
You bit your lip, fumbling to pull his joggers down. “Need you inside me” you panted, grinding on him harder as the wetness soaked through your panties and the tiny, thin shorts. “Jude please”
He smirked, lifting your hips to tug your shorts and panties to the side, and free his hard thick cock. He positioned himself below you, guiding you down inch by inch. The stretch made you cry out.
“That's it. Take it all baby” he muttered as his hands dug into your hips. You gasped, digging your nails into his shoulders because he was so deep inside you.
“You’re so tight” he groaned. Jude thrusted into you before moving one of his hands back to your neck. You thought you were supposed to be riding him, but his hips relentlessly slammed into yours to take control as he fucked you hard and fast.
“Jude..oh fuck. Feels so good” you moaned as your head fell back. One of his hands moved to your pussy, his thumb massaged your clit in time with his thrusts. You were getting closer by the second.
“Tell me whose pussy this is,” he growled with his eyes locked on yours. “Tell me Y/N”
“Yours..ohmygod..YOURS” you moaned, voice high and breathless. “All yours, Jude.”
“That’s right. You’re mine,” he grunted, fucking into you harder.
His relentless thrusts had you gasping. He was so deep that you couldn't think coherently, you were right on the edge of ecstasy.
“You’re soo deep..so fucking good” you panted, letting out a soft, dirty laugh.
“Y/N..goddamn” he groaned, the sound of your voice was pushing him closer while his thumb continued to circle over your clit. You leaned forward, brushing your lips against his ear moaning and whispering seductively. “Fill me up baby. I want it so fucking bad. Wanna be full of you.”
A guttural groan escaped his lips as soon as he heard you, his dick hit the perfect spot inside you. You felt him pulsing as his cum filled you up and pushed you over the edge. You threw your head back, letting out the most sinfully loud moan while your body trembled, falling apart and milking every last drop out of his dick.
For a moment, the two of you were absolutely wrecked until you pulled back slightly to catch your breath. Jude looked up at you with a lazy, satisfied smile. “Y/N, you’re something else. Had me ready to lose my mind in this damn car.”
You giggled, giving him a soft kiss on his lips. “I told you we weren’t going to make it home if you didn’t stop.” He kissed you back, still a little breathless and panting. “You had those tiny shorts on. What did you expect??”
“I expect you to learn how to drive, passenger prince,” you teased, grinning as you shifted off his lap.
“Nah,” he said with a cocky smirk. “Being a passenger prince has its perks.”
In Your DMs: Left on Read - Ch 2: Sticky Situation
summary: you left jude on read once—but after one reckless night, he’s making damn sure you never ignore him again 💫 | MDNI 18+ | Full Series |
warnings: angst/tension, push/pull dynamic, jealousy/possessiveness, verbal altercation, sexual tension, language, cultural references
wc: ~6.3k (approx. 23 minutes)
💋: let’s pretend u didn’t see me post this yday when the tag was in shambles
song inspo: Gemini x THEY.
You were hungover, running on a questionable amount of caffeine, and about three seconds away from throwing your pen at your professor’s head. Documentary Production & Storytelling was already your least favorite class this semester, mostly because the professor was an eccentric Spanish filmmaker who smoked way too many cigars and had a tendency to talk in circles. Today wasn’t any different.
“Filmmaking isn’t about aesthetics! Not about perfect shots or clever editing tricks!” He slapped the whiteboard for emphasis, where he’d already written EXPOSE THE TRUTH in all uppercase letters. “It’s about reality! Raw. Unfiltered. Humanity! If you want to make a documentary worth watching, you have to dig beneath the surface.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and tapped your pen against your notebook instead. Expose the truth. The phrase alone made your head hurt. Bri, who was sitting beside you, leaned over and whispered, “So… are you thinking of exposing how you were crying over a toilet bowl this morning?”
You shoved her off you, whispering, “Shut up.”
Tasha, on your other side, barely contained her laughter. “You know what would be crazy?” she murmured, moving her eyes toward the board. “If you just documented Jude and his desperate ass. Now THAT would be exposing the truth.”
You groaned under your breath, shaking your head, but Bri wasn’t done. “Oh my god, imagine! Surviving Thirst: The Jude Bellingham Story.”
She was joking obviously, but the second she said it, the thought wedged into your brain and refused to budge. Your professor turned away from the board, pacing in front of the class like he was on the verge of an epiphany. The smell of cigars mixed with your lingering hangover made you question every life choice that led to this moment.
“You must capture something real!” He threw a dramatic hand in the air. “Something global but deeply personal! A story that goes beyond what people think they know. Something with weight!” He smacked his hands together which made your head pound even harder. “Something that DEMANDS to be told!”
He surveyed the class, eyes burning with intensity. “Tell me, how do we do that?”
Some overachieving wannabe Steven Spielberg shot their hand up. “By finding a subject that resonates with a wide audience but also reveals something deeper about human nature?”
“YES! Now you’re getting it!” The professor spun toward the board and underlined EXPOSE THE TRUTH so aggressively that the marker nearly flew out of his hand. “This is what great filmmakers do! They take what the world thinks it knows and deconstructs it! They rip apart the facade and show what lies underneath! Think about the subjects people obsess over and glorify.” His voice dropped an octave and he scanned the room. “Athletes. Celebrities. Public figures. They are mythologized and turned into icons, but what do we really know about them? What’s behind the curated image?”
He let the question settle in the air before continuing on his artistic yet slightly psychotic tangent. “Your subject must be compelling. It must have global appeal, but you must also find a way to make it deeply personal. You have one week to choose.” He clapped his hands once, signaling the discussion was over. “Class dismissed.”
You sat frozen in your seat as everyone around you started gathering their things.
Athletes. Celebrities. Public figures. It wasn’t a bad idea.. if you had actually considered it.
The thing was, you’d already been around these people your whole life. You knew exactly how the glossy image the world saw was never the full picture. Your dad was the go to plastic surgeon for the rich and famous. He was the man behind half the “natural” beauty people idolized on social media. You saw celebrities in and out of his clinic since you were a kid, some slipping in through the back entrance, others coming in with full security detail, all of them desperate to maintain whatever illusion the industry demanded of them.
You knew the aftermath too. NDAs, secrecy, negotiations over what work could be admitted to versus what would go to the grave. You knew which athletes got regular “maintenance” to keep their bodies in peak condition, which actors booked consultations but never followed through, and which A-listers claimed their glow ups were the work of a ‘strict diet and hydration’ (ahem, Drake.) Miami was also crawling with athletes and you watched how they moved before you were even old enough to drink. You saw the girls they rotated in and out of their lives, the ones they wifed publicly while keeping a different roster on the side. You had dinner with your dad and overheard conversations you weren’t meant to hear. You went to exclusive parties, walked through yachts and penthouses where cameras weren’t allowed, and sat quietly as men with the world at their feet made it clear that nothing was ever enough for them.
People were obsessed with them, but if they knew even half of what you saw, they’d have a lot less to say. Your professor wanted something that resonated globally but was deeply personal. Something that exposed the truth.
Well.
You could do that.
As the three of you walked out of the classroom and into the sundrenched halls of the film building, Bri slung her tote over her shoulder and let out an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, so… I’m thinking of making my documentary about Madrid’s club scene. Like a deep dive into the DJs, bouncers, promoters, and all the fuckery behind the scenes.”
You nodded, already seeing the vision. Madrid’s nightlife was lawless, and Bri was a historian on the subject. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”
“I know.” She flipped her hair dramatically. “It’s giving investigative journalism.”
Tasha snorted. “More like it’s giving an excuse to party seven nights a week and call it research.”
Bri shrugged. “And what about it?”
You laughed while Tasha transitioned the conversation to go over her own idea. “I think I’m gonna do something about gentrification. Specifically, how it’s affecting Lavapiés and it’s immigrant population.”
You gave her a look of approval. “That’s actually really fucking good.”
“I know. But I’m about to piss off a ton of white people with this one.”
Bri grinned. “Oh, for sure.”
You were still laughing when you all stepped outside in the warm afternoon breeze of Madrid and made your way toward your usual café down the block. You could feel them watching you, waiting for you to speak, and you knew exactly why. You had been quiet about your own project since leaving class, which meant your brain was turning over something serious.
Tasha sighed. “You’re really gonna make us drag it out of you?”
You rolled your eyes, shoving your phone back into your bag. “Fine. I’m thinking about documenting athletes.”
That got their full attention. “Athletes?” Bri repeated with interest.
You nodded. “Think about it. People put them on this insane pedestal, but no one really gets to see what their lives are like outside of what they post or what the media covers.” You shrugged. “I’ve seen that side my whole life. I know what really goes on behind the scenes. Why not film it?”
They exchanged a look before Bri asked the inevitable. “And who are you documenting?”
Tasha raised her eyebrow. “Because if you say Jude, I swear to God…”
You shot her a look. “I’m not doing a documentary about Jude.”
Bri smirked. “But he’s in it?”
You sighed dramatically. “I might use him. I might use Santi too. He’s not on Jude’s level but basketball is still a thing here.. so I could get both perspectives.”
Bri gasped. “Oh my god. You’re pitting them against each other in the name of entertainment.”
“I’m not pitting them against each other.”
“You’re definitely pitting them against each other.”
You shook your head but the idea was already taking place in your mind. The contrast between a man at the height of European football and a man who was well known but didn’t live under the same spotlight could make for a very interesting project.
Tasha smirked. “So… who are you calling first?”
After visiting the café, you made your way back to your apartment and stared at your phone, contemplating if this was really the move. Out of the two of them, Jude was the most likely to be the bigger headache and piss you off within the first few minutes of conversation, but you also knew he’d answer immediately. You tapped his contact and one ring was all it took before he answered.
“You finally had a change of heart and decided to stop ignoring me?” His voice came through the speaker, smug and warm. A normal hello would have sufficed.
You blew out a breath, already over it. “It’s not whatever you’re thinking, that’s for sure.”
There was a pause but then he let out a chuckle that made you clench your jaw. “You were thinking about me enough to call me.”
Your eyes nearly rolled out of your skull. “Are you busy or not?” Your attitude was immediate, rightfully so.
“Not for you, pretty girl.”
You ignored the way your stomach twisted slightly at that and forced yourself to focus. “Good. Come to mine. I just sent you the address.”
“See.. now you’re just making it too easy” he teased.
You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Jude shut the fuck up and just–”
“I’ll be there in twenty” he cut in smoothly, enjoying the chase. “Missed you too by the way.” The call ended before you could respond, making you stare at your phone in disbelief.
Clearly, this was a mistake.
Twenty five minutes had passed by before you finally heard a knock on your door, because of course he had to be late. You took one last deep breath and pulled the door open, only to be greeted with the ugliest Peaky Blinders ass hat you’d ever seen in your life.
You made a face of disgust because the sheer ugliness of his hat offended you. “Absolutely not.”
Jude stood in front of the doorframe, grinning with one hand tucked into the pocket of his trousers. “Good to see you too.”
You didn’t acknowledge what he said and instead waved a hand at the monstrosity sitting on top of his head. “What the fuck is this?”
“What?” He asked innocently, reaching up to adjust the hat. “You don’t like it?”
“No, I don’t like it. You look like you started street brawls in 1923.”
Jude laughed and stepped past you, making himself at home. “I look good in this hat.”
You shut the door behind him and shook your head. “No. You look like a fucking 40 year old who snuck on earth in that hat.”
His ego was too big for him to admit to anything other than him looking good in the hat, so Jude wandered further into your apartment, stretching his long legs and taking in his surroundings with ease. “Nice place,” he mused, glancing at the half empty iced coffee cup on the table, an open notebook filled with scribbled ideas, and a stack of filming equipment tucked near the TV. “This where you plot your next move?”
You sighed, already regretting this. “Jude.”
He turned to you with a cocky half smirk on his lips. “Yeah, angel?”
You clenched your jaw. “Come to my room.”
“Damn at least buy me dinner first.”
You refused to give him the satisfaction of a response and instead turned around to walk to your bedroom as he followed behind lazily. Once inside, you shut the door behind you and watched Jude eye the personal confines of your bedroom. It felt strangely intimate having him in your room, especially since it looked like he was taking mental notes on the little details of your life. Your room was a mix of chaos and personality with half packed bags shoved in a corner, polaroid pictures pinned to the wall, books and videography equipment scattered across your desk. Jude walked over and picked up one of your camcorders without asking, testing the weight of it in his hands.
“You always been into this?” he asked, adjusting the focus ring as if he knew what he was doing even though he could barely put on a headset without looking confused.
You crossed your arms. “Why do you care?”
Jude glanced at you, setting the camera back down. “Because I’m nosy.”
Okay. At least he was honest. You inhaled deeply, preparing yourself for the conversation you actually needed to have. “I need you for a project.”
“Is that why you finally decided to hit me up?”
“Jude..” He laughed and stepped closer to you, shifting his body language into something more relaxed. His hands sat in his pockets as he studied your face, waiting. “I have to make a documentary for class. Something with global appeal that’s also personal. So I figured....”
“Ohhh,” Jude drawled, tilting his head. “You figured me.”
You stared at him, trying to explain yourself more in depth, but the words tumbling out of you dug you into a deeper hole. “You’re one of the biggest footballers in the world right now. It makes sense.”
He licked his lips, nodding slightly, but that smug look didn’t leave his face. “So what’s the angle? Exposing me in bed?”
Your nostrils flared as you clenched your fists at your sides. “Jude be serious.”
He grinned and ran his tongue over his teeth, leaning in only slightly. “I’m joking.”
You tried to push past the fact that he was actively and succeeding at getting under your skin. “I want to capture what your life is actually like. The side people don’t see.”
Jude didn’t respond right away and continued to study your face to figure out what part of this project you weren’t admitting to just yet. “And you think I’m just gonna agree to that?”
You shrugged. “I think you’ll do whatever you want to do.”
“What if I don’t want to do it?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Then I’ll move on.”
“That easy?”
“That easy,” you echoed, even though you both knew damn well that wasn’t the case for reasons beyond the project.
The silence following after was charged with unsaid thoughts. Jude sat on the edge of your bed with his hands clasped in front of him, still watching you with an unreadable expression, but then he reached out for you and wrapped his fingers around your waist, tugging you just close enough that you had to catch yourself with your free hand on his thigh. Your breath caught, but you didn’t move away.
He looked up at you, voice low. “Why me?”
You swallowed, refusing to acknowledge the feeling of his skin against yours. “Because you’re a global name. And because people don’t actually know you.”
His grip on your wrist tightened, just for a second. “And you think you do?”
You really should’ve pulled away and put distance between you but you stayed there instead, feeling the heat of his body meld with yours from the way his leg caged you into his personal space. He smelled too good. He was too close. He was looking at you like he knew exactly what was running through your head and he liked it.
“Jude…” you said quietly.
“Hm?”
“Let go.”
His smirk deepened, but he let go slowly to test the waters. You took a very small step back and pulled the hem of your shirt down in order to forget the sensation of him touching you. “Think about it. If you don’t want to do it, that’s fine. I’ll find someone else.”
Jude leaned back slightly, propping himself up on his hands. “Like who?”
You tilted your head. “Santi.”
Jude’s whole demeanor changed with the mention of Santiago. He didn’t hate him, but he definitely didn’t like him always being around you, regardless of if you were ‘just friends’.
“Santi?” he repeated with flexed jaw muscles.
“Obviously he’s not on your level but...”
“But?” Jude laughed loudly and shook his head. “Fucking hell. You really know how to push my buttons don’t you?” You smirked, because for once, you were the one getting under his skin.
“Maybe. But only when it’s something I want.” You were taunting Jude with a game of chess, willing him to figure out his next move and decide what was next.
“What if I want something out of this too?”
“Like what?”
“You.”
You knew he wasn’t joking based on the way he blew up your phone after your hook up, thinking he had a right to your attention. Jude had always been persistent, confident, and way too aware that he was the type of man who always got what he wanted. There were women chasing him all over the world and for some reason, you were the one he decided to bother the most. It would’ve been easier if the sex had been forgettable, but it was far from that and every time you saw him, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Now you were finding yourself in a sticky situation where you wanted access to his life without giving him too much access to yours. It made sense in your head originally, but you also knew Jude wasn’t the type to back off once he set his sight on things. When he wanted something, he chased it on or off the pitch, and he usually succeeded every time.
You gave him a poker face, refusing to give in so easily. “That’s cute Jude, but that’s not on the table. I don’t even think you truly know what you’re asking for.”
“Yeah I do.” he said with eyes still piercing into yours. “You just don’t like hearing the truth.”
He always flipped it back on you for control. It pissed you off, but worst of all...it was kinda working. “Are you gonna agree to this or not?”
“I don’t know..” he said, stroking his index finger over his facial hair. “Seems like a pretty big commitment. Are you sure you want me in front of your camera, angel?” You cut your eyes at him, giving him a nasty side eye. The nerve of this man to be standing so close to you, going back and forth in a hat that made him look like he was from the prohibition era was really starting to irk you.
“I want a documentary subject” you corrected, pressing your hand against his chest to create distance.
Jude caught your wrist before you could move away and captured you back into his space to remind you of how he could pull you right back in if he wanted to, especially behind closed doors. “Uh huh..” he murmured. “But what’s in it for me?”
Your breaths were a bit uneven by this point, but you forced yourself to keep composure. “The world gets to see a different side of you.”
Jude wasn’t impressed with your answer in the slightest and chose to push you even more. “Yeah? Or you get to keep me on a leash while you figure out whatever the fuck this is between us?”
“There is no this.” You gestured between you and him for emphasis. Before you even had time to finish the sentence, Jude scoffed a laugh at you, unconvinced with your statement. He loosened his fingers around your wrist and slid lower to graze his thumb against your thigh. You felt it everywhere. Heat rose in your stomach and kept rising both higher and lower the longer he touched you. He was barely doing anything, but it was a deliberate touch. He knew exactly what he was doing and knew you wouldn’t step back this time.
“This is professional” you said quietly with your tone not sounding confident at all.
Jude tilted his head. “Professional,” he repeated, brushing up against your skin again before he finally stopped. “You really think you can keep it that way?”
Your heart may as well have been in your ass but you refused to let him see it. “Yes.”
Jude wanted to push a little further just to see what would happen but instead, he leaned back to give you space. “Alright then. I’ll do it.”
The funny thing about exposing truth and reality is that sometimes it comes when you least expect it. A few sharp knocks on the door echoed through your apartment walls, startling you. You hadn’t ordered anything for delivery and all of your roommates had keys so it couldn’t have been them. Jude raised his eyebrow curiously. “Expecting someone?”
“No.” you muttered, knowing he was about to be an inconvenience no matter who was standing on the other side. You weren’t in the mood for any surprises, especially not with the world’s most annoying man sitting comfortably on your bed, grating your nerves. There was no version of events where he sat back quietly and minded his business because Jude’s entire personality revolved around being a pain in the ass.
You walked toward the door and kept your hand on the knob for a split second, opening it just enough to crack the door open and peek through, only to see Santiago standing tall with a brown bag in one hand and a worn food container that his abuelita passed down to him when he moved to Madrid. Your stomach rumbled slightly from smelling the scent of home. Whatever he had smelled like the kind of food you grew up eating that couldn’t be easily found in Madrid, no matter how many restaurants claimed they knew what they were doing with Caribbean flavors.
Santi flashed his bright teeth, putting last night’s drama from the party at the very back of your head. “I thought you might need this after all the rum.”
You shifted to block the doorway from view. “Thanks. You didn’t have to...”
“Yeah, but I wanted to. Brought some ropa vieja (stewed beef), arroz (white rice), frijoles (beans) and arroz con leche (rice pudding).” Santi glanced at your frame through the tiny crack in the door. “You’re looking better than I thought you would.”
Another voice....a very annoying voice spoke from your side of the door.
“She always looks good.”
You closed your eyes in horror, feeling your entire soul leave your body. After a deep breath, you turned your head back toward your room to see Jude standing a few short steps behind you. Santi shifted his legs, moving around because for some reason, athletes could never stay in place like a normal person…including Jude. “Didn’t realize you had company.”
You turned back toward Santi quickly. “They were just leaving.” You didn’t want to tell him outright who was behind the door, but Jude was going to make sure Santiago knew exactly who was in your apartment. He had no intention of making things easy.
“Leaving??” he asked while standing directly behind you, making it painfully obvious who was behind the door with his accent. “I thought we were still having a chat?” He cracked the door open wider so Santi could see him towering over you in the intimate space. Santi was chill and didn’t react right away because he was already familiar with the way Jude moved.
“Didn’t know you two were hanging out.”
“We aren’t.” You cut your eyes at Jude over your shoulder to give him a warning to not make things any worse than it already was. “He was just here for something.”
Jude wrapped his hand around your waist with a lot of gall and a sly smirk, ignoring how you were trying to block him from Santi’s full view. You weren’t doing a good job at it considering both of them were more vertically blessed than you were. “Yeah... something.” Jude inserted himself back into the conversation boldly.
Santiago laughed and kept his laid back demeanor intact, but his eyes bounced between you and Jude which made you wriggle your way out of Jude’s grip on your waist. “So what’s up?” You attempted to shift the conversation. “You just came to drop this off?”
Santi nodded, lifting the food slightly. “I just wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay after last night.”
Jude stepped even closer, making you feel the body heat radiating from behind you. “She’s good, mate.”
Santi finally looked Jude in the eye, becoming increasingly annoyed with his presence just as much as you were. “She can answer for herself, no?” The tension in the air was so suffocating that you could barely breathe through it. Jude wasn’t backing down and Santi definitely wasn’t one to be pushed into anything..no matter how chill he was.
You cleared your throat to gain some sense of control. “It’s fine Santi.”
“You sure?” he asked, locking his eyes on you and very blatantly ignoring Jude.
“Yes.” You crossed your arms. “Actually… I needed to talk to you about something.” Jude made a noise behind you but you were ignoring his antics now.
Santi nodded. “Yeah? Que lo que? (what’s up)”
Jude didn’t like the fact that he had been cut out of the conversation, his pride was on the line and he wasn’t going to let it slide. He peeped how you were shifting the conversation and being careful with your words to not reveal too much. Jude was smart but he was also petty, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Santi stand in your doorway for some innocent little check-in that could lead to more behind your closed bedroom door.
“You need to talk to him?” he asked mockingly but also very irked. “For what? I already said yes and you’re still asking him to be in the documentary too?”
“Documentary?” Santi asked.
You opened the door fully now and stepped back to grab the food and place it on the counter, then walked back to Santi. “I was going to ask for your help. It’s a project for class..” you admitted.
Jude walked over to the food and lifted the top off, inspecting the ropa vieja with a curious look before he turned his attention back to you and Santi, who had given you a quick hug while Jude was momentarily distracted. “So I’m not enough, huh? You need another athlete in the mix?” He gestured toward Santi lazily. “I guess that makes sense. You can’t just have me, gotta add a little filler content.”
Santi walked over to Jude, unbothered. “Something on your mind hermano?”
Jude smiled but it wasn’t friendly. “Nah. Just wondering what exactly your part in all this is supposed to be.” He opened the arroz con leche and grabbed a spoon, lifting a bite into his mouth to infuriate Santi. It was cold and creamy with just the amount of sweetness as he chewed. “What’s she gonna cover? The story of an NBA reject who never made it past summer league?” Jude then placed the arroz con leche back on the counter and gave Santi a pat on the shoulder. “Not too bad, mate. Maybe you should stick to cooking.”
Santi’s expression barely changed but you knew that pissed him off. There was a barely-there tightening of his jaw and a flash of anger dancing across his pupils. Santi didn’t get riled up easily but Jude’s words weren’t just a throwaway jab...they were designed to sting. His words even had you pissed off and you were seconds away from cussing Jude out yourself. He had no business coming for Santiago like that but you knew exactly why he did it. He needed to have the upper hand and couldn’t just let something sit when his ego was at stake. He peeped the way you kept your voice level with Santi but raised it with him. Jude saw how you tried to block the door and realized you didn’t tell him about your full plans for the documentary from the jump. He didn’t like the picture he was getting.
“Is this what you do?” Santi asked in a raised tone. “You throw a bitch fit every time someone else is around her?”
They were arguing over you again. It was flattering honestly. It wasn’t everyday that two hot men stood in your apartment challenging each other from the sight of you, but two days in a row was pushing it..especially when you still had a raging hangover headache.
Jude licked the last bit of arroz con leche off his spoon, satisfied with himself for getting under Santi’s skin. He didn’t need to say more to make his point. He had already thrown the punch by mentioning Santi’s career, his missed shot, and the fact that he wasn’t on Jude’s level and probably never would be.
“You know what’s funny?” Santi’s voiced in a cool tone. “You talk a lot for a man who can’t even handle his own shit.”
Jude’s smirk fell, but only for a second. “Yeah? Enlighten me.”
“You act like she owes you an explanation of what she does in her own life. She didn’t mention it to you because she didn’t want to.” Santi’s head tilted just slightly, pushing the knife in deeper. “Or are you mad she’s not hanging onto the bullshit you tell every other girl?”
Jude shifted around to stand taller and laughed. “Is that what you think?”
“That’s what I know.” Santi countered. “You’re a mommy’s boy who’s fucking pissed she doesn’t worship the ground you walk on like your hoes do.” Jude gritted his teeth together. He hated when people tried to dissect him, especially when they weren’t wrong. The boy could stomach a lot of things but being read like a book by Santi made his blood boil.
“I’m not the one delivering homemade meals hoping it earns me extra time. She called me to come over here” Jude fired back. “So what’s the plan bro? Feed her and wait around like a good little second choice the same way you waited around for the NBA just to not get drafted?”
You flinched. That was a deep cut and you all knew it. Santi took a step closer to Jude and squared up to him as a warning, daring him to say something else. “You almost got your ass knocked into the pavement last night, carajito (little boy/brat but derogatory). We can run it back right now.”
Jude’s jaw flexed and his muscles tensed around him with balled fists at his side. He was seconds away from doing something reckless and you knew Santi wasn’t just a basketball player, but also someone who did boxing recreationally. He could truly beat Jude’s ass if he was pushed far enough and it was starting to get to that point. Luckily for Jude, you didn’t want anything to do with the online conversation that would be trending if he showed up battered to training, so you stepped in.
“Both of you shut the fuck up,” you snapped while stepping between the two of them. “I’m not doing this again.”
Jude exhaled harshly through his nose with his jaw still locked, but he took a step back. Santi was the first to ease up, but his glare never stopped. You were tired of them throwing shots at each other and tired of being caught in the middle of the circus this was turning into. You ran your hands over your hair, exhaling slowly to keep from losing it.
“I want you both to be in this because you have different experiences and different perspectives. That’s it. There’s nothing more to it.” You looked at Jude first. “And if you have a problem with that, you don’t have to be involved.”
Jude kissed his teeth but he didn’t argue, he just stared at you instead. You turned to Santi. “Are you in?”
You waited, watching both of them with growing impatience. Santi had already cooled off and nodded at you. “Yeah, I’m in.” Jude took his sweet time, playing with the rim of his stupid hat with his jaw still flexing from his bruised ego. He wanted you to say something that would put him above Santi and everyone else.
Too bad for him. You weren’t doing that.
You crossed your arms, waiting. “Well???”
Jude wanted to make sure he would be the ONLY highlight of this documentary, no matter what extras you planned on adding. He lifted his hat off his head to run a hand over his sponge curls, finally agreeing definitively as he put the hat back on. “I’m in.”
You nodded out of satisfaction but you were still annoyed as hell that it took this much just for both of them to agree. It seemed like they were both agreeing to challenge each other rather than actually helping you, but you pushed that thought aside to get down to the nitty gritty. “Good. Now.. let’s be clear about a few things.” Santi attentively listened but Jude was still scoffing like a school boy who couldn’t get his way. “We’ll be filming over the next few weeks so I need access to your routines, training, travel schedules and whatever I can capture without pissing off Real Madrid or the leagues. When I go to your games, I’m going as media. Not as some fan..” you pointed at Jude before he could even try it. “Or someone in a private box at the Bernabeu. And definitely not courtside at Movistar. Got it?”
Jude rolled his eyes like your request was outlandishly ridiculous. “You think they’ll just let you in like that? I can–”
“I’ll apply for the credentials just like any other person in the media” you cut in sharply. “I don’t need to be paraded around Jude.”
You stared both of them down for a few seconds to make it abundantly clear how serious you were. “One more thing..I’ll be going back home to Miami to visit so you’ll have a break from filming while I’m gone.”
Santi nodded in understanding but Jude just had to push your buttons. “I could come with you to Miami.”
“What?”
“You’re filming my life, yeah?” He leaned back against the counter as if he had declared a normal suggestion. “May as well get the full picture and show them what I’m like on holiday.” Your mind drifted to the night he first liked one of your pictures on Instagram. You thought he was cute but the minute you took a deep dive googling his name, you found out exactly what he was like on his holidays. Seeing it online was enough to never want to see it again, especially right in front of you.
“Yeah, no. That’s not happening.” Jude licked over his lips and looked at you, then at Santi. He was weighing whether he wanted to push further just to get under you and Santi’s skin but you clocked the gears turning in his head and refused to give him another opening or opportunity. “We’re done here.” you stated firmly. “I need food, my bed, and zero testosterone in my immediate vicinity. Goodbye. Both of you can leave now.” You ushered both of them to the door, seconds away from peace and quiet when the door swung open and a familiar figure stepped inside.
Mateo took one sniff of the food, clocked Santiago, Jude, and then you.
“I know my eyes aren’t deceiving me on this day... que vaina es esta?! (what’s this nonsense?)” Mateo waved his finger between you three.
Your head fell back with a groan. “Mateo, pleaseeee.”
“No.” He pointed his finger at you. “I need someone to explain why this is happening.” he gestured at the two athletes standing tall in the same space without throwing hands. “Because last time I checked...these two were fighting over you at the party last night.”
Santi smiled brightly at Mateo to disengage from his dramatics. “I just came to drop off some food as an apology. I was just leaving.”
“And you??” Mateo pointed at Jude with a side eye.
Jude shrugged and pointed at you like the tattle tell he was. “She called me and told me to come over.”
Mateo turned to you in disbelief. There was no ‘we listen and we don’t judge’ with Mateo. He was listening and undeniably judging as he put the puzzle pieces together. “YOU called HIM?”
You sighed dramatically. “It’s for a project Mateo.”
“So you’re telling me out of the millions of people in Madrid, the capital of Spain, that these two fools were your only option?”
“They’re my best options” you admitted with exhaustion, still trying to usher Jude and Santi out of the apartment. Both of them were now intently standing near the door, watching Mateo and his dramatics unfold.
Mateo looked Jude and Santi up and down with a deep, exasperated sigh and then refocused on you. “You do realize this is a terrible idea, right?”
Jude scoffed. “Mate, I’m literally standing right here.”
“Oh I know.” Mateo shot back without missing an opening for a quick witted jab. “That’s exactly why I’m saying it.”
Mateo had a point which was easily the most annoying thing about him. But just because he was right about some things didn’t mean he had to be right about this. It wasn’t a terrible idea. Maybe a little messy, sure, but terrible? Noooo. You had a vision and you were going to see it through, no matter how many stress inducing headaches it caused. You were determined to capture the essence of what your eccentric professor explained in class earlier that day. You wanted to reveal the truth of their lives, their stories, and their reality beyond what people thought they knew.
But why did it suddenly feel like the only person being put under a microscope was you?
summary: you left jude on read once—but after one reckless night, he’s making damn sure you never ignore him again 💫 | MDNI 18+
warnings: angst/tension, push/pull dynamic, alcohol consumption, party setting, language, sexual references, public argument, easter eggs from previous fics
wc: ~5.9k (approx. 21 minutes)
💋: it’s only chapter 1… pray for them.
song inspo: VeLDÁ x Bad Bunny ft Omar Courtz & Dei V
It had been two weeks since you hooked up with Jude in a drunken rendezvous, and while the dick was surprisingly fantastic, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starting to get the ick. You gave Jude your number after you left his house that afternoon in post-orgasm delusion and he’d been bombarding your phone with texts, voice messages, unscheduled facetime calls, and random tiktoks that “reminded him of you” ever since. He clearly thought your hookup was something more, which made you regret your decision to give him any attention at all. Although pretty privilege had its perks, a world class footballer being obsessed with you was not a perk you wanted to engage in – especially when it was Jude Bellingham.
You sat in the apartment you shared with Bri and Tasha, watching your other friend, Mateo, scroll through his phone while shaking his head. “Miss girl…” he drawled with an amused grin. “They have all of your tea in 4k. All of it.” Mateo handed his phone to you and you nastily glared at the screen, annoyed that you suddenly became a part of whatever the fuck this was:
SpillTheBeansUK
Looks like Jude Bellingham had his eye on something other than football two weeks ago 👀. The England star was spotted leaving a Madrid club with 21 year old Y/N, an NYU Tisch film & television student from Miami who’s currently studying abroad and very much a regular in both cities’ party scenes. Her dad is none other than THE ‘Dr. Cinch’, the mastermind behind SculptHaus Miami, the go to clinic for IG baddies and A-listers looking for that perfect CINCHED look 💉
Jude’s no stranger to being deep in a girl’s likes, but he’s been extra consistent with Y/N’s lately. What’s really going on here? Because word is, she’s not exactly the type to be impressed.. especially by ballers like him. 🤨
2Fast4VAR
wait she’s from miami?? bro lost before he even started. she’s built different. 😂
CertifiedMenace69
if i was jude i’d be in her dms, comments, and her email too she’s bad af
BigBootyJudeyFC
he’s about to start liking those inspirational quotes on IG like “if it’s meant to be, it will be.” 💀
MissMiamiDade305
jude better watch out... does anyone remember when she had that miami promoter crying on IG live last year?? she does NOT play with these men 💀💀
gossipgorlzzz
not him liking her pics and finally getting the W! stay persistent kings!!
SpillTheBeansES
Si Jude cree que puede cambiarla.. le deseo suerte 🤷♀️ (If Jude thinks he can change her.. I wish him luck)
JudePorFavor
jude’s probably in her DMs like “pls respond angel 😩” LMAO
Baddiebydesign
not dr. cinch’s daughter!! she’s set for life. face card AND her dad’s the plug? i bet her friends never have to pay for fillers 😭
AnonymousInsider13
i heard she’s cool with that real madrid baloncesto guy too…santiago something. ngl that man is fine af. if she’s choosing between him and jude i see why she’s taking her sweet time
RedBlooded1892
maybe her dad can fix jude’s shoulder that’s about to fall off the hinge 😭
cinchdollsnob
her dad literally invented half the faces we double tap. a baddie with real face card genetics. life ain’t fair.
ChampagnePapiButBroke
jude and his big bum liking all her pics is sending me. boy was lurking HARD
ChickenNCoke
cinched bellibabe is kind of an iconic alias icl
mamacitasintl
lmaooo if jude’s trying to lock her down..good luck. her dad probably has a vetting process more intense than real madrid’s medicals
nosygirlieFC
jude defo heard about trent bagging the perfume baddie and thought he could do the same LOL
You were annoyed by the post to an extreme amount. Whoever was the administrator of this god awful account decided to treat you like you were some Z list Love Island reject instead of a girl who got dicked down ONE time in a moment of weakness and dipped.
Bri leaned over to scan the screen and let out a cackle. “ ‘Jude Bellingham had his eye on something other than football two weeks ago!’ ” she mimicked in a dramatized voice.
“Ew.” You scrunched your nose in disgust.
Tasha was deep in the comments on her own phone, scrolling at lightning speed. “No but, ‘She’s not exactly the type to be impressed… especially by ballers like him’ is so shady,” she snorted, flicking her eyes to yours. “The streets know you too well.”
Mateo looked at you with a sly grin, clasping his hands together. “Sooo...how does it feel to be a Bellingham Baddie?”
You cut your eyes at him. “Don’t fucking start.”
“It’s too late.” Bri waved her phone in the air, grinning. “Your inauguration is already underway. These people are in the comments eating it up.”
“Let me see” Mateo snatched Bri’s phone from her and started reading out loud. “ ‘She’s bad as hell, I’d be in her likes too.’ ” He smirked, flipping his wrist. “Real recognizes real.”
Tasha leaned over, giggling. “Wait, this one says ‘Jude’s in his romantic era. He’s playing the long game.’ ”
“Oh hell no. Absolutely not.” You reached for the phone but Mateo dodged you with the speed of a messy gay man who lived for drama.
“Hold on, hold on.” He scrolled further, widening his eyes before he started howling. “Ohhh girl, not this one!” he wheezed, hardly able to get his words out. “ ‘Jude’s big bum came from Dr. Cinch? Noted.’ ”
Bri and Tasha both started laughing with tears streaming down their eyes. “Not Jude having BBL allegations because they found out who your dad is!”
You ran your hands across your face, shaking your head. “I hate this app.”
Mateo was screaming along with the other two, kicking his feet out but you really didn’t find it all that funny. “No, I LOVE this app!”
After their laughter subsided, Tasha shook her head, continuing to scroll through the comments. “The way they dug up your whole life just off one club sighting is actually insane.”
“I know. They need jobs.” You groaned, leaning back against the cushions.
Mateo tilted his head while eyeing you. “Well, since you’re the new bombshell in the Bellingham Baddie villa, you may as well tell me...how was it?”
Bri and Tasha perked up immediately, turning to face you while giggling, mainly because they already knew. You groaned, rolling your eyes as you picked up your own phone. “It was fine.”
“Fine?” Mateo questioned, not fully believing you because you usually gave him the full rundown in detail, but this time you were holding back. “Just fine?! Don’t tell me he’s a minute man. It’s always the hot ones.”
Bri leaned in. “Mmm, I don’t know about that. Tasha and I called and she couldn’t even talk. That man blew her back out for sure.”
“In her words exactly.. it was ‘one hundred percent worth it’ ” Tasha added. “If the dick was bad she would’ve come home the next day and roasted his ass but she didn’t. She was quiet as a mouse.”
Mateo pointed at you accusingly, narrowing his eyes while analyzing you. “And you keep dodging the conversation which means it had to be amazing.”
You rolled your eyes, fake scrolling through your phone like you always did when you couldn’t look someone in the eye. “Well I don’t know about all of that now...he’s doing too much.”
Mateo snickered. “You gave him the best pussy of his life and dipped. Of course he’s doing too much.”
You groaned again, letting your head fall back against the couch. “Can y’all shut the fuck up?”
“Absolutely not.” Mateo fired back immediately, leaning forward to read you for filth. “I know you. If it was mid, you would’ve been dragging him for filth. You’d be in this living room doing a full dissertation on why that man is a waste of height.”
Tasha nodded, scrolling with purpose. “But instead you’re holding back.”
Bri suddenly gasped, pointing a finger at you. “Ooh, she likes him.”
That was where you drew the line. The suggestion that you, of all people, would be catching feelings for a footballer, let alone Jude Bellingham sent you straight into defense mode. It wasn’t even about him specifically, but merely the principle of the matter. You didn’t date athletes. Not seriously anyway. NEVER seriously. You learned a long time ago they were all the same: entitled, egotistical, and so used to women throwing themselves at their feet just because they could handle a ball and had a few viral highlight reels. They saw women as accessories, something to show off when it suited them and discard when it didn’t. You weren’t about to be anyone’s little off-season toy passed around in a group chat the second they got bored. That was never going to be you.
But ballers weren’t completely useless though, they had their perks. Stamina? Unmatched. Strength? Ideal. But once the adrenaline wore off and post-orgasm clarity set in, the appeal disappeared right along with it. You entertained a few before just for fun, just to see if they were worth the hype, but they all had one thing in common: they started thinking they were special. Like they had you hooked. Like they were pulling the strings.
It was funny, really. Because if anything? They were always the ones falling first. Every time.
Jude was proving to be no different. The way he sauntered up to you in the club as if he knew where the night was headed, versus the way his ego deflated the minute you left his messages on read for weeks was textbook athlete behavior. And now? He was chasing you.
Mateo tapped the edge of his phone against his palm, watching you with an expression that made it very clear he was about to ask something that would grate your nerves.
“So what’s really going on with you and Jude?” He tilted his head, brows raised in intrigue. “Like.. what is he to you?”
You didn’t even look up from your phone and scrolled as you answered, “A pronoun.”
Mateo’s mouth dropped open, delighted by your messy answer. “Be so fucking for real Y/N” he said, crossing one leg over the other. “If he’s just a pronoun to you then why did you give him your number?”
Tasha didn’t even give you a chance to answer before jumping in. “That’s actually a great fucking question. Because you knew giving him your number meant this...” she gestured to the entire situation, the group chat chaos, the SpillTheBeansUK mess, “so why did you do it?”
You sighed dramatically, tilting your head back against the couch from being exhausted by all of this nonsense. “He asked for it, so I gave it.”
Bri blinked at you. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Mateo was unconvinced. “And you just gave it to him? No hesitation? No thoughts?”
“I was in a state of post-nut delusion.” You shrugged, sipping from your water bottle to avoid any further questions.
Tasha sucked her teeth. “Mmm.”
Bri was already side-eyeing you. “Mmhmm.”
Mateo tapped his phone again, unimpressed. “Lying just like the mattress he put you through, I see.”
You ignored them. There was a very brief moment where you considered not giving him your number. You could’ve just taken your Uber and dipped, pretended like it never happened, and gone back to your normal, Bellingham-free existence. But Jude gave you a cocky, half lidded smirk that made you fold immediately when he asked. You figured your brain was still stuck somewhere between your legs for wanting to hear from him again, which was exactly why you were so annoyed with yourself. Not only was he blowing up your phone, but now you were on SpillTheBeansUK. You scrolled through the endless posts dissecting your one mistake, making you feel more irritated with every new comment. There were threads analyzing your every move, posts tracking Jude’s IG likes, and an entire debate about whether or not you were “Jude’s type.”
“How do these people have so much free time? Is the unemployment rate that high?” you muttered, aggressively tapping out of Instagram. “I was in the same club as him one time, and suddenly I’m the internet’s main character of the day? I fucking hate it here.”
Bri snickered, nudging Tasha. “Not her being mad when she willingly chose to leave with him.”
You shot the nastiest glare at both of them.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” Bri challenged, raising her brow.
She wasn’t wrong. You did willingly leave with him. You hated the attention and the way people were dissecting your life, but you weren’t completely mad at the way Jude was acting. Mainly because he wasn’t just moving on like it never happened and letting you fade into the background. He was still chasing you. And even if you never wanted to admit it.. you liked that.
Your phone pinged in your hand to bring you out of your thoughts, making you glance down at your notifications.
JUDE BELLINGHAM ❌ 🙄
17:43 - Did I do something??
17:51 - Because I’m struggling to believe I had you screaming my name two weeks ago but now you’re airing me.
18:02 - Hello?
18:27 - Ok I get it. I know you don’t really do this athlete thing.
18:28 - I’m not blocked though 👀
18:42 - Let me take you out?
You rolled your eyes before switching to a different text thread.
SANTI DOMINGUEZ 🏀 🇩🇴
20:42 - Y/Nitaaa que haces esta noche? (what are you doing tonight?)
20:42 - Fiesta en La Finca at mi pana’s house for the night. Big ass infinity pool, drinks, music, todo. Pull up.
20:43 - Bring your friends too. Dime que si. (Tell me yes.)
You smiled, already typing out a response.
20:45 - A party in La Finca? Bet.
20:46 - We’re coming. You better have good drinks!
Santi hearted the message instantly.
20:47 - Siempre, preciosa. Nos vemos. (Always, gorgeous. See you soon.)
You liked Santi. He was one of the few people in Madrid who weren’t constantly on some clout chasing nonsense, which meant you actually enjoyed being around him. And even though he could be a little flirty, it wasn’t serious.
You were just about to lock your phone when another text rolled in.
JUDE BELLINGHAM ❌ 🙄
20:48 - Your dad is a plastic surgeon??
You frowned, watching as a second message came in.
— [SpillTheBeansUK post]
Oh. He really was chronically online.
“Ew,” you muttered from the ick of it all before typing out your own response.
20:48 - why the fuck are you sending me STB links like you’re a gossip girl admin? touch grass.
There was no immediate response but you knew he probably read it the second the notification popped up on his phone. He was probably typing, stopping, then typing again, trying to figure out how to keep you engaged without pushing too far. It was funny really, the difference between the two of them. Santi would text once, maybe twice most of the time and you would reply immediately with no hesitation. Meanwhile, Jude would send text after text, throw in tiktoks, voice messages and a Facetime call here and there, which made you want to take your sweet time responding.
You could already feel the looks your friends were giving you, but Mateo was the first to speak.
“So you answer Santiago immediately but Jude has to beg for a response?” He smirked, already piecing together what would likely go down tonight at the party. Tasha hummed in agreement and glanced over your shoulder at your phone. “She doesn’t even respond to us that fast but Santi texts and suddenly her fingers work?”
You locked your phone and flipped it over on the table so they wouldn’t see any other message notifications from Jude or Santi. “It’s not that deep.”
“It is that deep,” the three of them spoke in unison.
Tasha pointed at your phone and then crossed her arms. “Explain.”
You stretched your arms over your head, already starting to prepare your exit strategy. “I don’t have to explain anything.”
“Oh, but you do,” Bri countered, shifting to face you. “Because you clearly like the attention from both of them.”
You let out a sharp exhale and grabbed your phone, making your way to your bedroom. “I have to get ready for the party and I suggest y’all do the same if you’re coming.”
You dropped your phone onto the bed and stood in front of your wardrobe, biting your lip while you scanned through your options. La Finca pool parties weren’t the same as your club nights. The vibe was more laid back but the guest list was usually stacked with the most beautiful people you’d ever seen, so naturally you had to one up them and show them how a Miami girl stepped out. Just as you were grabbing a cropped halter top from the hanger, your phone vibrated against your comforter and you snatched it up immediately.
JUDE BELLINGHAM ❌ 🙄
20:58 - Touch grass with me. What’s the move tonight?
You debated telling him about the party, but you decided against it and threw your phone back on the bed with a scoff to finish getting ready. Although he was giving you the ick, something about the way he chased you fed a very specific, very vain part of you and you would be lying if you didn’t admit you weren’t the least bit curious in how far Jude was willing to take it.
Somewhere outside of your room, you could hear Bri and Tasha moving around, digging through wardrobe drawers and arguing over what top to wear. Mateo’s voice floated down the hall, loudly reminding everyone that if they didn’t hurry up, he was leaving without all of you.
An hour later, the four of you piled into a car with the windows down as the city lights of Madrid blurred past. The further you drove into La Finca, the bigger the homes became. When you finally pulled up to the house, you could hear a mix of reggaeton, afrobeats and spanish trap music playing through the air. The garden surrounding the property was already full of people with drinks in hand as they laughed and swayed to the music.
You made your way to the pool area, smelling the mixed scent of tangy smoke from hookah and rum. You adjusted your top, feeling the backless cut brush your skin in the breezy, but warm night time air as you walked on the stone pathway. Your matching mini skirt hugged your hips just right and dipped low enough to show the string of your bikini bottoms underneath. Your small entourage followed behind you, already plotting the kind of chaos they could get into tonight.
Mateo adjusted the collar of his shirt, scoping out the scene. “I’m manifesting a man with a villa tonight. Just watch.”
“Manifest being the bartender while you’re at it” Tasha muttered, eyeing the outdoor bar where bottles of Ron Barcelo, Brugal, and Larios gin were already in rotation. Someone had cracked open a case of Estrella Galicia beers, and a group near the pool was passing around cups of Kalimotxo, the unofficial drink of every wild night in Spain.
“Vamonos mamis!” Santi yelled from somewhere near the pool.
His height alone made him impossible to miss. He was a towering 6’5”, had broad shoulders with a trim waist, perfectly white teeth, dimples, deep sun kissed skin, and a freshly trimmed fade that made you tilt your head slightly to take a better look. He had that natural Dominican aura that made it impossible to tell whether he was flirting or just being nice.
“Oh, you’re outside, outside tonight!” he teased, sliding his arm around your waist for a quick hug. He glanced behind you and smiled at Bri, Tasha and Mateo. “Good to see you all. Drinks are in the kitchen. Hookah’s by the pool.”
“And you’re where?” Bri asked, arching a brow while biting the nail of her finger flirtatiously.
“Everywhere.” Santi winked, then tilted his head back toward the pool. “Come find me if you need anything.” He disappeared back into the crowd before any of you had time to respond, leaving the scent of his cologne lingering between all of you.
“Oooh he’s wearing Rêveur.” Tasha nodded in approval, taking a second glance back to get another look at him. “That man has taste.”
“But why is he so fineee?” Bri muttered under her breath.
Mateo snickered. “Because God had time when he made Dominican men that’s why.”
You hated gassing men up too much, so you gave them a blank stare, eventually walking away to make your way toward the drinks as Bad Bunny’s “VeLDÁ” played through the sound system. They followed behind and Mateo took on his duty as bartender, rummaging through bottles of Havana Club and Brugal Añejo.
“Shots or mixed drinks?” Mateo asked, double fisting bottles in his hands.
“Mixed” you answered immediately.
“Shots” Bri and Tasha dueted.
“Majority rules, sorry Y/N” Mateo mused as he reached for the shot glasses.
On the other side of the yard, Jude leaned back in an outdoor lounge chair, resting his arms lazily while his drink sat half empty on the table in front of him. He wasn’t drunk, but the warmth of Madrid, the drinks, and the atmosphere had him leaning into the mood.
“That’s her?” Cama tilted his head toward the cluster of people near the pool, smiling with curiosity.
Jude didn’t answer at first and stared at the condensation on his glass before moving his eyes back to you. He clocked you as soon as you stepped on the stone pathway, he couldn’t have missed you even if he tried. The backless halter top with the matching mini skirt, coupled with the sheen of your Dior lip oil catching in the light every time you tilted your head back to laugh, had his head spinning. Even from a distance, he could see the faint tan lines peeking from under the straps of your bikini strings underneath your outfit.
“Damn..” Kylian whistled beside him, leaning forward to take a closer look at Bri and Tasha. “Who are the girls next to her though?”
Jude glanced sideways, trying to suppress a smirk. “Focus mate.”
“I am focused,” Kylian replied with a laugh, still scanning the scene.
Cama chuckled and nudged Jude’s arm. “She looks good, bro. You bringing her home tonight or what?”
Jude tilted his head, taking another slow sip of his drink. “We’ll see. She likes to play hard to get.”
“Does she know you’re here?” Kylian asked as if he cared, when he was actually plotting on Bri and Tasha.
“Nah.”
The truth sat heavy on his chest. He hadn’t expected to run into you tonight, but then again, Madrid was a small world when it came to hanging around certain circles. It was bound to happen eventually. But seeing you laughing with your friends did something to him that he wasn’t ready to unpack.
“You should go over there” Cama suggested, nudging Jude’s arm.
“Not yet.” Jude replied, following the curve of your bare shoulders as you tipped your head back to down a shot with your friends. The twist of your face from the burn of the alcohol, along with the parting of your lips made it too easy to remember the way those same lips felt against him just two weeks ago.
—
The shot you had just taken settled warmly in your stomach while the bass from the music grew heavier. The music was loud, the air filled with scents of alcohol, sweat, and smoke but none of it could shake the buzz in your head from spotting Jude in the party crowd.
Of all the parties in Madrid, he had to be at this one.
You clutched your glass tighter, trying to resist the urge to look back at the lounge chairs near the pool. Bri crossed her arms and smirked, darting her eyes between you and Jude. “So you’re just gonna ignore him all night?”
“Ignore who?” you replied flatly, knowing damn well who she was talking about.
“Oh girl. Pack it up.” Tasha chimed in from your other side while swaying to the beat of the music. “You know exactly who.”
“No. I don’t.” you muttered, wiping off the condensation wetness from your fingertips.
“Then why are you gripping the glass like that?” Bri teased, bumping your hip with hers.
You ignored her and instead scanned the crowd for any sign of Santi. You spotted him leaning against a pillar with a bottle of beer in hand, laughing at something one of his teammates said. His crisp white shirt clung to his torso, making you gawk just a little. When he caught your gaze, he lifted his beer and gave you a blinding smile.
Tasha clocked it immediately and raised her eyebrows. “Well.. looks like you have options tonight. Bellingham or Dominguez?”
You sighed heavily, ignoring her again and headed to the pool to dip your feet in. The infinity pool stretched out in front of you as you swung your legs back and forth in the water. You should’ve felt relaxed, or maybe even carefree and tipsy, but instead you were on edge.
On the other side of things, now that you were closer, Jude watched you from the rim of his glass as he took long, slow sips. Kylian and Cama were talking next to him but their words turned into background noise while he observed the way you leaned back with your hands pressed against the pool deck stone.
“She’s going to notice you staring eventually” Kylian leaned in, sensing Jude still had you on his mind.
Jude tilted his head back to finish his drink. The thought of you being so close yet so far away made the alcohol sit heavier in his stomach. You hadn’t really been giving him much of a thought since you hooked up and that bothered him. It made him want you even more. He internally debated with himself, wondering if he should just leave you alone or speak up now that he had an opening that you absolutely couldn’t leave on read. Just as he was about to stand, Cama clapped him on the shoulder with a wide grin. “Go talk to her bro. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“She could throw her drink in his face..” Kylian added helpfully.
Jude snorted. “Nah. I don’t think she’s like that.”
He really didn’t know you as well as he thought he did, you were definitely ‘like that’ if the need arose.
Jude stood up with enough adrenaline and liquid courage to walk the short path to the pool’s edge where you sat. You felt his towering presence immediately as he stood with his hands tucked into his pockets, glancing toward you swishing your feet in the water.
“You ignoring my texts now?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, surprised that he had the gall to start the conversation off that way. “You’re not serious.”
A gleam of moonlight caught on his lips when he shifted closer to you with a lazy smirk plastered over his face. “I get it. You’re a busy girl. But you could’ve at least told me you would be here tonight.”
“For what? Why would I tell you?” you countered, looking up at him in annoyance. “I don’t even know you like that.” The nerve of this boy to think he deserved to know any of your moves when he wasn’t your man, or anything remotely close to it.
“You know me well enough to let me fuck..”
Your head snapped up so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “Excuse me?”
Jude tilted his head, still with a dumb smirk on his face that made you want to slap it clean off his face. His hands were still tucked in his pockets casually, like he wasn’t standing there stirring the most out of you.
“I’m just saying..” he lazily shrugged, as if that would smooth over the conversation.
“Oh, ‘you’re just saying’ ” you mocked, standing up to meet his eye, though you still ended up having to look up because he was so tall. The edge of your skirt brushed against his thigh and you were close enough to see the sheen of sweat on his thick hairline from the warm night air. Up close, Jude was hard to ignore. He got under your skin in the right way to make you give him your full attention.
Just the way he liked it.
“And this is coming from the same man blowing up my phone like I owe him something.”
Jude chuckled under his breath, his eyes moving briefly to your outfit before locking back onto your eyes. “I wouldn’t have to blow your phone up if you just responded the first time, angel.”
Angel.
That word hit you straight in your core. It was impossible not to hear his voice from that night echoing in your head.
“That’s it, angel. Keep fucking me back.”
You took a deep inhale through your nose, clenching your fists on your sides as heat flared through your chest from frustration and other things you weren’t ready to name.
“Don’t call me that” you snapped, but the hitch in your breath told a different story. A story that said you liked it, and Jude noticed. His eyes lowered to your lips briefly, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward like he knew exactly where your mind went.
“Ohhh, so you do remember” he mused, clearly enjoying himself.
“Jude, I swear-” You shoved his shoulder but he barely moved in the slightest bit. He stood his ground, leaning into your ear to speak low enough so only you could hear. “Don’t start. Unless you’re trying to start something you know I can finish for you.”
“You’re so fucking full of yourself, you know that?”
The warmth from the alcohol running through your veins made your voice louder than you intended, making you become acutely aware of the heads starting to turn your way. In between your conversation with Jude, Tasha and Bri made their way over to sit with Kylian and Cama near the lounge chairs. Bri was sitting on Kylian’s lap with her arms draped over his neck like they knew each other way longer than what had to have been no longer than 15 minutes. All four of them were watching the scene unfold with varying degrees of amusement.
“Okay, fuck this” you muttered under your breath, feeling the embarrassment creep in. Eyes on you and whispers spreading throughout the crowd was the exact type of thing you wanted to avoid. Your mind flashed to the SpillTheBeans post and the comments dissecting your entire life, snapping you right back to the cruel reality of being a newly added ‘Bellingham Baddie’, as your friends called it.
“This is exactly why I don’t fucking date athletes” you jabbed a finger at Jude’s chest for emphasis.
“Who said anything about dating?”
You laughed in disbelief and threw your hands up. The tipsiness loosened your filter in all the wrong ways. “You know what? I’m so sick of-”
“Todo bien?” (Everything okay?)
The sound of Santi’s voice made you freeze mid sentence. You turned around just enough to see him approaching with an unbothered walk, beer still in hand like he wasn’t about to walk straight into chaos. His eyes moved between you and Jude, reading the situation.
“We’re good.” you answered, holding up your hand toward Santi as if that would somehow deescalate whatever was about to go down.
“Didn’t look like it,” Santi eyed Jude in a way that was more curious than confrontational, but Jude wasn’t having it, being the crashout that he was.
“You her bodyguard or something?” Jude shot, tilting his chin as he stepped fully into Santi’s space. Santi’s smile didn’t budge but his posture shifted subtly enough to raise the tension up a couple notches. “Nah. I’m just looking out for a friend” he replied coolly, not breaking eye contact.
“Yeah? Well, she doesn’t need you to–”
“BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!” you yelled loud enough to cut through the music and all the other conversations happening around the pool. Heads turned with the rise of your voice and half of the party had their eyes locked on the three of you, but you were too far gone, and too far drunk to care.
“I am so tired of you men acting like I’m some prize you get to win!” You jabbed a finger between both of them in frustration. “I don’t fucking belong to either of you! And you..” You turned to Jude with fire in your eyes. “Stop acting like I owe you something just because I let you fuck me ONE time!”
Jude’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.
“And you..” You whipped back to Santi, who at least had the decency to look slightly guilty. “Don’t walk up here like you’re about to save me! I don’t fucking need saving!”
The silence was deafening after the read you gave them, broken only by the distant sound of water pushing against the pool edge and gossiping chatter from the crowd.
Finally, Jude ran a hand over his curls, exhaling hard through his nose. “You done?”
“Yes, I’m done! I’m never fucking you again so get it out of your thick skulled head!” you snapped and stormed off toward the house without looking back.
Back at the lounge chairs, Kylian and Cama exchanged looks while Bri and Tasha creased in laughter.
“I don’t know whether to be scared or impressed..” Kylian shook his head in amusement.
“Definitely impressed,” Cama replied with a grin.
You stormed off down the path leading toward the house, weaving through random groups of partiers who definitely caught at least half of the argument. The adrenaline and frustration swirling around in your head had you on ten.
“Who the fuck does he think he is?” you spoke to yourself, enraged. “I fucking hate ballers. Worms for brains ass motherfuckers.”
The nerve and audacity of that man to approach you like he was owed something more than the one night you already gave him pissed you off. Your chest was filled with a fury of emotions you really didn’t want to unpack, especially not in the middle of a party where half of the crowd had probably pulled out their phones to message their group chats about what they just witnessed. As soon as you reached the back door of the house, Mateo appeared beside you out of nowhere, moving swiftly to match your quick pace.
“Girl.. what was all of that?” he asked, eyes wide with equal parts concern and curiosity.
“Nothing.” you muttered with clenched teeth, but Mateo wasn’t having it.
“Nothing? That was prime telenovela content and I need details immediately. Why did-”
“I’m never fucking Jude again,” you snapped, cutting him off before he had a chance to launch his full analysis. It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than anyone else. Mateo knew Jude having you this bothered by his presence meant you’d be rethinking that exact statement in approximately three to five business days. He’d seen it all before, so instead of pushing any further, he took one sip of his drink and gave a knowing look between you, Santiago, and Jude.
