well.. this is awkward : Jude Bellingham
Synopsis: After hours of studying, a five-minute TikTok break quickly turns into a private bedroom concert when you stumble across an edit of your footballer boyfriend, Jude Bellingham. Completely convinced you're home alone, you sing, dance, and shamelessly admire the edit—only to discover Jude came home from training early and witnessed the entire performance. Mortified, you're certain you'll never live it down… and judging by the grin on his face, you're absolutely right.
Content Warnings: Embarrassment/second-hand embarrassment, social media (TikTok), teasing, playful relationship dynamics, and fluff.
By the time you looked up from your notes, the sky outside your bedroom window had begun to fade from a bright afternoon blue into soft shades of orange and pink.
You blinked a few times, trying to bring your eyes back into focus before rubbing at them with the heels of your hands.
Studying for hours on end had never been your favourite thing to do.
Deadlines couldn't care less about your feelings. They just glared from your planner, utterly unmoved.
Your desk looked like a hurricane had swept through it.
Textbooks, sticky notes, highlighters, and papers covered your desk and spilt onto the floor.
At some point, you'd promised yourself you'd tidy everything once you finished.
That promise belonged to a much more hopeful version of you—one that clearly didn't live here.
With a sigh, you stretched your arms above your head until your back gave a satisfying crack.
Your neck wasn't much better.
Rolling your shoulders, you reached for your water bottle and discovered it was empty.
Of course it was; why would it be any different?
You'd been too focused on revising to refill it for hours.
Your eyes drifted towards the digital clock resting on your bedside table.
You'd started revising just after lunch.
No wonder your brain felt dissolved—it was just grey mush now.
Leaning back, you stared at the ceiling, willing yourself to keep going.
Your mind was a blank slate. Static fills your skull.
Not a single thought entered your head.
You glanced back down at your open textbook.
The words danced meaninglessly, mocking your attempts to comprehend.
You read the same sentence over and over without processing it.
Usually, that's when you surrender—white flag up, retreating to sanity.
"Five-minute break," you whispered to yourself.
You held up a finger as though making yourself a promise.
You'd made that promise plenty of times before.
Five minutes? As if. That fantasy always evaporated.
Still, you told yourself this time would be different.
You closed your notebook and pushed your chair back, stretching and wincing at stiff muscles.
Your bedroom felt unusually quiet.
The only sounds came from the faint ticking of the clock and the occasional car passing outside.
Jude was still at training, so you had the entire house to yourself for another couple of hours.
At least, that’s what you thought—until now.
You grabbed your phone from the charger and dropped onto the duvet.
The mattress dipped as you sighed with contentment.
Unlocking your phone, you instinctively tapped on TikTok.
Your thumb moved almost automatically.
A cat wearing sunglasses.
Someone attempting a dance trend and failing spectacularly.
That made you laugh, just a small sound.
Your thumb hovered above the screen.
An edit of Jude filled your screen.
The opening beat of Grey Tracky echoed quietly through your phone speakers as slow-motion clips of your boyfriend faded into one another.
There he was, arriving at the stadium, dressed head to toe in designer clothes with headphones resting around his neck.
Another clip showed him laughing during training, the grin on his face so genuine that you found yourself smiling without even realising it.
The edit changed with it.
Now it was clips of him celebrating goals, hugging his teammates and acknowledging the supporters after matches.
Whoever had made it clearly knew what they were doing.
Every transition landed perfectly on the beat.
Every clip blended effortlessly into the next.
You watched the entire thing without blinking.
"...Okay," you admitted quietly.
"That was actually really good."
The video looped back to the beginning.
Instead, you watched it again.
The second time, you paid more attention to the editing itself.
By the end of it, you found yourself mouthing a few of the lyrics under your breath.
"This song is going to get stuck in my head."
You glanced at your notes, considering returning to studying.
Instead, you pressed play again.
You couldn't help the guilt. Enjoyment flickered despite everything.
"If anyone asks," you muttered to yourself, "I'm appreciating the editing."
Definitely not because your boyfriend was the subject of the edit.
Definitely not because your ridiculously handsome boyfriend happened to be the subject of the edit.
The third time it played, you caught yourself smiling at one particular clip where Jude looked straight into the camera before breaking into one of his trademark grins.
"You know what?" you mumbled. "He's going to become unbearable if he ever finds out I watched this."
The thought alone made you laugh.
You could already hear him teasing you.
"Watching edits of me now, are we?"
You'd never hear the end of it.
Good thing he wasn't home.
You reached over to your bedside table and picked up the small Bluetooth speaker you'd bought months ago.
Within seconds, your phone connected.
The music became louder, filling every corner of your bedroom.
You placed your phone against a stack of books on your desk so the screen stayed upright while you stood.
You'd barely moved all afternoon.
Your legs finally got to stretch.
Stretching your arms above your head once more, you began swaying slightly to the rhythm.
Just enough to loosen up after sitting still for so long.
Another clip of Jude flashed across your screen.
"Oh, that's a good one," you laughed.
The editor had somehow matched his goal celebration perfectly to the beat drop.
You pointed at your phone.
"They definitely planned that."
Without thinking, you started quietly singing along with the lyrics you knew, filling in the gaps with humming whenever you couldn't remember the words.
By now, the embarrassment had faded, replaced with growing confidence and joy.
There was nobody around to witness it.
You twirled absentmindedly before walking across your room to grab your hairbrush from your dresser.
Not because you needed it.
Because every impromptu bedroom concert required a microphone.
Holding it dramatically beneath your chin, you sang into it with far more confidence than talent.
You threw your free hand into the air as though performing in front of thousands of people instead of four bedroom walls.
The ridiculousness of the situation made you laugh halfway through the song.
"Imagine if Jude could see this," you snorted.
"He'd never let me live it down."
Downstairs, the front door clicked open, breaking your solitude.
Jude stepped inside, quietly shutting the door behind him.
Training had ended almost an hour earlier than expected after the coaching staff decided the squad had done enough for the day.
He'd thought about texting you.
Instead, he'd decided to surprise you.
A smile tugged at his lips as he slipped his trainers off by the door.
Until music drifted faintly from upstairs.
Music drifted faintly from upstairs.
Recognising the song almost immediately, his eyebrows lifted.
Trying not to laugh already, he quietly climbed the stairs.
With every step, the music became clearer.
Then he heard your voice.
You sounded like you were having the time of your life.
Still smiling to himself, he reached your bedroom door.
He gently nudged it open another inch.
Completely oblivious to his arrival.
Your phone was propped against your books while another edit of him played on the screen.
Meanwhile, you were standing in the middle of the room, using your hairbrush as a microphone and pointing dramatically at the screen whenever another clip of him appeared.
At one point, you even mimicked one of his goal celebrations before bursting into your own laughter.
Jude had to clamp a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing out loud.
The scene unfolding before him was far too entertaining.
So instead, he leaned casually against the doorframe, folded his arms across his chest and decided to watch the show.
Completely unaware that you now had an audience, you carried on.
Another clip of Jude flashed across your screen, this one of him jogging out onto the pitch before a Champions League match. The edit slowed the footage down at just the right moment, making it look far more dramatic than it probably was.
You pointed your hairbrush towards the screen.
"Okay," you laughed, shaking your head. "That transition was clean."
The song reached the chorus again, and before you knew it, you were singing louder than before, swaying from side to side as you wandered around your room.
You twirled once, stopping beside your desk before pretending your hairbrush was a microphone again.
If anyone else had seen you, they would've thought you were putting on a private concert.
Jude watched from the doorway, his shoulders beginning to shake with silent laughter.
He'd never seen you like this before.
Sure, you'd sing around the house while cooking dinner or hum absentmindedly when you were getting ready, but this...
This was a full performance.
When another clip of him appeared, you dramatically pointed at the screen again.
"He thinks he's so cool."
Jude couldn't stop the grin spreading across his face.
The music drowned out everything else.
"So cocky," you continued, laughing to yourself.
"...He's lucky he's handsome."
A laugh escaped Jude before he had a chance to stop it.
Your movements stopped instantly.
The hairbrush froze halfway through the air.
You turned towards the bedroom door.
Your eyes landed on Jude.
The biggest grin imaginable was plastered across his face.
Your gaze flickered towards your phone, where the edit was still happily playing away.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
The silence stretched just long enough to become painfully awkward.
Without taking your eyes off him, you reached behind yourself, blindly searching for your phone.
Your fingers knocked over a highlighter.
Finally, you managed to grab your phone.
You fumbled with the screen for a second before locking it.
The music cut off immediately.
"...Hi?" you offered weakly.
Jude bit the inside of his cheek, desperately trying—and failing—not to laugh.
"I thought you weren't getting back until later."
"And then training finished early."
Another silence settled between you.
You looked down at the hairbrush still clutched tightly in your hand.
You quietly placed it back on your dresser as though it had never left in the first place.
Jude watched the whole thing unfold.
"You done?" he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"There is absolutely nothing to be done."
"So..." He pushed himself away from the doorframe and wandered into the room. "Should I pretend I didn't just witness all of that?"
He rubbed his chin dramatically, pretending to think it over.
He glanced towards your phone.
"...that looked like a pretty convincing concert."
You searched desperately for an excuse.
"...Breathing exercises."
Jude stared at you for a second before bursting into laughter.
"You are such a terrible liar."
"You literally pointed at an edit of me and said, 'He's lucky he's handsome.'"
Heat immediately rushed to your cheeks.
"You've been standing there the whole time?"
You buried your face in your hands with an embarrassed groan.
"I actually can't believe this."
Jude laughed again before gently wrapping his fingers around your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face.
You refused to meet his eyes.
"You've got nothing to be embarrassed about."
You finally looked up at him.
"You enjoyed watching me embarrass myself?"
"I enjoyed watching my girlfriend have fun."
Your expression softened despite yourself.
"You weren't laughing at me?"
He reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
"I was laughing because you looked happy."
You felt your shoulders relax.
"And," he added with a teasing grin, "because watching you sing to edits of me is something I never thought I'd get to witness."
"I haven't even started yet."
"I knew this would happen."
"The second I saw you standing there."
He folded his arms again.
"How many times did you watch it?"
A small smile tugged at your lips.
Jude let out the most satisfied hum you'd ever heard.
"But," you quickly added, pointing a finger at him, "I was appreciating the editing."
"The transitions were incredible."
"And your handsome boyfriend had absolutely nothing to do with it?"
He took another step closer until there was barely any space left between you.
"So if it had been someone else..."
"I can literally see you trying not to smile."
You pressed your lips together.
"Oh, stop looking at me like that."
"Like you've just won something."
"My girlfriend watches edits of me."
He chuckled, unable to hide how pleased with himself he looked.
He tilted his head slightly.
"...I think this is going to do wonders for my ego."
"As if your ego needs to get any bigger."
He placed a hand dramatically over his chest.
"I thought you loved me."
"I also think you're incredibly annoying."
"I can't believe you'd say something so hurtful."
A laugh escaped both of you.
The tension that had built up the moment you'd spotted him in the doorway disappeared almost instantly, replaced by the familiar teasing that always seemed to happen whenever the two of you were together.
Jude reached over to your desk and picked up your phone.
Before you had the chance to stop him, he unlocked it and pressed play on the edit again.
The opening beat filled the room once more.
He looked at the screen before nodding thoughtfully.
He glanced back at you with a grin.
"They did make me look pretty good."
You tried to snatch your phone back, but he held it just out of reach.
"I just want to appreciate the editing."
You couldn't help laughing.
He finally handed your phone back, though the smug smile never left his face.
As your fingers brushed against his, he leaned down just enough for your foreheads to touch.
"I'm glad you like looking at me," he murmured.
You rolled your eyes affectionately.
"The evidence speaks for itself."
You lightly shoved his shoulder.
"Not your head getting even bigger."
"I'll pretend I believe you."
You laughed quietly, shaking your head.
Somehow, despite getting caught in one of the most embarrassing moments imaginable...
You couldn't stop smiling.
Maybe because, deep down, you knew he'd never let you live this down.
And, if you were being honest with yourself...
You wouldn't have it any other way.
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