you’re my whole world - jude bellingham
(author note - this is actually based on me after my night out this weekend lmao. had inspiration 🤣)
it was nearly 2:12 am when the headlights of a black cab swept across the driveway of the bellingham house in the birmingham suburbs. inside, the house was quiet. mostly.
jude was still awake, sitting in the lounge in gray joggers and a white tee, phone abandoned, ears half-tuned to the front of the house. he knew the second she stepped out of that cab—he just knew.
and sure enough, thirty seconds later…
thud. clack. giggle.
the front door burst open like a gust of wind had kicked it, and y/n stumbled inside wearing a glittery black mini dress, heels dangling from one hand and her clutch in the other. her hair was tousled, lipstick smudged charmingly across one cheek.
she paused in the doorway, blinking at the ceiling as if she’d forgotten what houses looked like.
“juuuuuude,” she sang suddenly, voice echoing in the hall like she was performing a sold-out arena show. “baby. babe. babyyyy.”
jude stood up instantly, grinning. “jesus christ,” he muttered under his breath before jogging toward her.
y/n saw him and let out a squeal of pure joy, like a puppy spotting its owner after a week.
“there you are!” she cried, throwing her shoes into a random corner. “my perfect boy. my precious angel. my first and final love.”
he caught her as she stumbled into his chest, arms immediately wrapping around her waist. she nuzzled into him like she could melt into his skin.
“you smell like tequila and strawberry vape,” he muttered, kissing the top of her head.
“i smell like love,” she replied, pouting. “i missed you all night. i told every girl at the club that you were the most beautiful man ever made. like michelangelo couldn’t even—couldn’t even sculpt you.”
he laughed, brushing her hair back. “alright, shakespeare. let’s get you upstairs.”
“but wait,” she said, stepping back to cup his cheeks in both her hands, looking at him with wide, glassy eyes. “i love you so much. like… i don’t think you get it. it’s not normal love. it’s, like, feral forest creature love. i would walk barefoot across a thousand lego bricks for you.”
he blinked, amused and mildly horrified. “thanks? that’s… intense.”
y/n then began kissing his face. forehead. cheek. chin. nose. lips. “i wanna kiss every part of your perfect footballer face,” she mumbled. “even your eyelids. can i kiss your eyelids?”
“no,” he said, holding her wrists gently and laughing. “you can’t even stand up. you’ll fall into my eye socket.”
as he started leading her upstairs, the hallway light flicked on. denise appeared in her robe, her eyes adjusting to the sudden chaos.
“oh no,” she said immediately, looking at y/n’s messy makeup, smeared eyeliner, and wobbly gait. “has she been poured into a taxi again?”
y/n gasped, as if seeing denise for the first time. “mum!!” she cried, flinging herself into her arms. denise blinked, surprised, but smiled warmly and hugged her back.
“i’m not your mum, sweetheart.”
“you are when i’m drunk,” y/n sniffled, half-laughing, half-weeping. “you’re so soft. can i sleep in your arms?”
jude rubbed his face. “oh my god.”
“she’s a cuddle-drunk,” denise said knowingly. “right. kitchen. she needs toast.”
“nutella!” y/n shouted, already halfway in jude’s arms again. “please! nutella toast and a tiny spoon so i can scoop it off the crust. it tastes better that way.”
jude, half-carrying her, dragged her toward the stairs. she clung to him like a baby koala.
just as they reached the landing, a door opened. jobe, bleary-eyed in an oversized hoodie, blinked into the hallway. “what’s all the noise?”
y/n gasped like he was a disney prince. “jobe,” she cried, reaching her arms out like she was seeing him through a romantic slow-mo lens.
jude groaned. “here we go.”
y/n wriggled out of jude’s arms and launched herself at jobe in a clumsy hug.
“jobe, i need to tell you something,” she said, eyes wide and whispery. “you’re my favourite person in the whole entire world.”
jobe froze in place, eyes darting between y/n’s head on his chest and jude’s thundercloud expression just down the hall.
“…thank you?” jobe said awkwardly, patting her shoulder.
“i mean it,” she mumbled into his hoodie. “you’re so soft and quiet and sweet. if you were a pillow, you’d be one of the expensive ones from john lewis.”
jobe blinked. “you’re very… poetic when you’re drunk.”
“i love your face,” she sighed dramatically. “i love your soul.”
jude stepped forward, clearing his throat. “okay, i think she’s told everyone in this house she loves them except me.”
y/n turned to him, eyes shining. “you’re not everyone,” she said softly. “you’re my whole world.”
that shut jude up.
jobe gently handed her back, and y/n melted into jude’s arms again, immediately going limp with exhaustion. jude kissed her temple, holding her with a hand on the back of her head.
“i’m fine,” she whispered sleepily. “just need a nap. and a bowl of pasta. and nutella toast. and you to hold me forever. that’s all. not much.”
jude carried her back down the stairs as denise placed a plate of toast and a glass of water on the counter.
“eat this before she falls asleep on the kitchen floor again.”
“i did that one time,” y/n mumbled into jude’s shoulder. “it was a nice tile.”
mark wandered in now, rubbing his eyes. he took one look at the scene—jude balancing y/n like a sleepy sloth, jobe still confused in the hallway, denise calmly buttering toast—and burst out laughing.
“well this is bloody brilliant,” mark said. “she’s like a tornado wrapped in glitter and tequila.”
“she’s a menace,” jude muttered, adjusting her in his arms.
“she’s a delight,” denise corrected, placing the toast on y/n’s lap once jude had plopped her on the couch.
y/n, now snuggled in a hoodie far too big and wrapped in three blankets, reached for the toast with trembling fingers. “this is the best moment of my life,” she whispered dramatically. “jude. your family is… so warm. like fresh laundry.”
jobe, still leaning on the banister upstairs, smiled softly, watching her.
jude noticed. and glared. “she doesn’t need another cuddle from you.”
jobe raised his hands, amused. “mate, she just said i was a john lewis pillow. i’m going back to bed.”
eventually, once she’d eaten, and her kisses slowed to soft mumbles against jude’s cheek, y/n curled into his side on the couch, murmuring something unintelligible about soup and true love.
denise placed a gentle hand on her hair, brushing a lock from her face. “she’s gonna feel rough in the morning.”
jude held her tighter. “yeah. but she’s cute when she’s drunk.”
y/n stirred slightly, whispering sleepily, “still wanna kiss your eyelids.”
and with that, she drifted off, tangled in jude’s arms, makeup half-wiped, toast crumbs on her blanket, and a chaotic kind of peace settling over the bellingham house.
Cute 😚❣
