― ꒰ contents ꒱ doing the "do you wish you were taller?" trend with bf!jude and bf!jobe.
JUDE BELLINGHAM― Jude knew he was tall, and he was very aware of the height difference between the two of you. So when you asked that question, he was, to say the least, completely flabbergasted.
"Baby, do you wish you were taller?" you asked as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
"Excuse me?" He looked up from his phone.
"Do you wish you were taller?" you repeated. "Baby, I am tall," he said with a laugh. "You could be taller, though," you said innocently.
He was offended. Like, genuinely offended.
"I am tall," he deadpanned. "Much taller than you. Like, extremely, ridiculously much taller than you."
"Oh, baby, it's okay if you're not as tall," you pouted, reaching for the back of his neck and slowly caressing it, fighting the urge to laugh.
"I AM TALL!"
By this point, you couldn't hold it in anymore. You covered your mouth and burst into laughter, tears gathering in your eyes as Jude just stared at you in complete disbelief.
"Unbelievable." He shook his head. "I fell for it again."
You always do," you teased. "And you always will."
"For the record, I am tall."
"I know, Jude."
"But I am tall."
"WE GET IT!"
JOBE BELLINGHAM― Something Jobe was proud of was his height. He enjoyed being taller than his older brother, even if he'd never admit it—not nearly as much as he enjoyed being taller than you.
He loved the way your body nearly disappeared whenever he hugged you. He loved being able to rest his chin comfortably on top of your head or use you as his personal armrest just to tease you. And, of course, he loved the way your smaller frame looked under him while he pounded into you.
So, of course, when you came across the "Do you wish you were taller?" trend, you just had to try it on your boyfriend.
He was currently lying on top of you, his head snuggled against your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair. A small smile tugged at your lips before you made your move.
"Do you wish you were taller?" you asked, continuing to stroke and gently scratch his head.
"Are you serious right now?" He looked up at you, suspicion written all over his face.
"Why would I ask if I wasn't serious?" You asked, trying to keep your composure. "Babe, I'm 1.91 meters," he laughed. "You're the one whose height is equivalent to five Subway sandwiches."
"So? You could be taller," you replied as if it were obvious.
His jaw dropped.
"Nah, mate, you're messing with me."
"Am I, though?" You raised a brow, fighting back a grin.
"You're laughing." He shifted his weight onto his arms, looking down at you. "Why are you laughing? You're messing with me! Fuck!"
You threw your head back, laughing, which only made him groan.
Sure, dating matt or chris sturniolo sounds great but we all know the real fun part would be kissing him with space camp on you lips and then going “your brother’s lips taste the same as mine btw” bc that’d be the greatest ragebait known to man.
synopsis ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆: what happens when you confidently make a bet with your boyfriend that you could easily go one week without sleeping with him? it’s like you flipped a switch. gone was your loving, doting boyfriend. he was replaced by this monster who wanted to do bad things to you and did not want to treat you well. pride is going to be the death of you, and jobe will be there to watch you fall and piece you back together — after he has his fun with you.
content ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆: so suggestive that autocorrect told it to get a room but nothing explicitly nsfw, just a lot of teasing and psychological torture
word count ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆: 1.9k words
author's note ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆: now i understand why selena gomez sang a day without you feels like a year without raaaaaain. who knew a two-sentence prompt could turn into this monster but this was super self indulgent because i genuinely felt some supernatural urge to write this instead of doing my homework.
“i bet i could get through one week without sleeping with you,” you remarked completely out of the blue.
jobe, in the midst of slicing the assortment of berries, looked up at you with one brow quirked upwards. “do you now?” he asked evenly.
you sat on the island stool and grabbed a thinly sliced strawberry. “can’t be that hard,” you teased, popping the fruit into your mouth, humming at the burst of flavor. “don’t go thinking you’re anything special in bed.”
jobe laughed humorlessly, licking his fingers clean while staring straight at you. “oh?”
you gulped, averting your eyes as you felt your confidence evaporate under the heat of his gaze. “trust me. this week will fly right by.”
famous last words.
for the next week, jobe dedicated himself to making your life hell on earth.
he spent every suffocating minute reminding that you would be eating your words by the end of this week, and you were slowly and painfully beginning to regret ever challenging him to this bet. between jobe, a professional athlete who was trained to endure the most grueling training regimens, and you, spoiled princess since birth, it should have been immediately apparent to you who would come out on top by the end of this challenge.
he would firmly press his shirtless chest against your back in the kitchen, leaning deeply into you so you could inhale the bergamot and smoky vanilla emanating from his freshly washed skin, only to reach forward to grab an apple from the bowl of fruit and walk away innocently.
once, he intentionally left his airpods on your bedside table and texted you to bring it to him at the home gym so that you could drop by and hear all the shallow cursing and grunting that went on as he lifted heavy dumbbells. he smiled knowingly at you from the bench, back glistening with sweat and veins prominent on his tense muscles. ‘thank you, baby,’ he said, voice dripping with insincerity.
fed up with his antics, you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. you were sipping red wine in the kitchen when he approached you, white crisp shirt half-buttoned and black tie in his hand. you set the wine glass down on the counter, slung the tie around his broad shoulders before taking another long sip. your eyes never left his, even as you tilted the wine glass downward and spilled it all over his nice white shirt. ‘oh,’ you frowned, ‘sorry.’ jobe let out a small unbothered laugh and began unbuttoning his shirt while his dark eyes bore into yours, shrugging it off and throwing it into the sink. ‘it’s okay, my love.’
at a dinner hosted by adidas germany, jobe was innocently conversing with a close friend from birmingham. ordinarily, you wouldn’t think much of it, but he was noticeably giving her more attention than he gave you this entire week. whenever he leaned forward to hear her better or laugh at her comment with his arm around her waist, you would grasp the stem of the wine glass like a weapon. and when his playful gaze met your withering stare, he winked and returned to whatever he was doing.
tonight, you were in paris celebrating denise and mark’s anniversary.
you did everything you could do distance yourself from jobe: sat all the way on the other end of the car, stood on opposite ends of the elevator, hell, even booked a separate room from him — everything short of putting an ocean between you two.
in the elevator going down from his suite you glared at the door, hands crossed over your chest. jobe was in your peripheral, leaning against the mirror with an amused look on his face.
“you ought to relax, you know,” he remarked casually, chuckling at your discomfort.
you gritted your teeth, nails biting painfully into the flesh of your skin. “thanks for the advice.”
jobe grinned, relishing in your downfall. “don’t forget to smile later. gotta keep the act up.”
you ignored him and walked out of the elevator the moment the doors pulled apart. the both of you acted like it was business as usual, conversing casually to denise and mark about football, the financial markets, politics. you momentarily forgot that this week had been especially hellish due to your cold war with jobe, but you refused to back down. can’t take it back when it’s been set in motion.
while his parents were looking at the menu, jobe turned his head to yours, pretending to talk about the menu, when he was actually whispering the most obscene things in your ear. everything from ‘you look so pretty, baby’ to ‘can’t wait to get you alone’ and ‘it’s taking everything in me not to drag you back to my room and have my way with you.’
all while you sat in front of his parents, smiling politely with your arms crossed on your lap.
in the midst of a conversation about the mid-year market outlook, a hand began lightly caressing your thigh. your breath hitched in your throat as you nodded thoughtfully at denise’s story about her shopping experience at the la vallée village. jobe laughed, pretending that it was at his mom’s story and not at you, absolutely unbothered by whatever he was doing to you underneath the table.
once his hand reached your mid-thigh, your hand shot down and clamped it over his hand, preventing him from moving upward. you crushed his hand, warning him to stop, but your boyfriend was way stronger than you and broke free from your grip.
“my dear,” denise said concernedly, noticing your face lose color. “are you alright?”
“yes, i’m fine,” you breathed out, hurriedly rising to your feet. “i-i just need to use the powder room.”
denise accepted your excuse and continued her conversation with her boys. jobe smirked to himself as he took another sip of his wine. the rest of your company might not have noticed the tremor in your voice, but he certainly did.
your head was spinning. all the staring, touching, and unholy murmurs in your ear were all tightening the figurative noose around your neck and you were on the verge of gasping and begging for forgiveness. jobe, on the other hand, was prepared to kick the stool underneath you just to see how far your pride and dignity would take you.
you stumbled into the powder room and headed straight to the sink.
you grasped either side of it, steadying yourself as the white straight-edge porcelain dug into the palms of your hands. the deserted restroom was still and silent, save for the whir of the air conditioner. the dim, red backlit mirror reflected your breathless and frustrated expression, and the wallpaper, an aztec-inspired tribal pattern in warm red, yellow, and brown, seemed to grow redder with each passing minute.
jobe — the thorn on your side, the bane of your existence, the fire that consumed everything in its wake and razed all your defenses to the ground. he’s been pressing your buttons the whole week, never once letting up on your overstimulated nerves.
you inhaled and exhaled deeply, attempting to regain your composure. you pumped the ceramic soap dispenser and washed your hands slowly and deliberately, as if the vetiver and bergamot could cleanse your soul of the impure thoughts that clung like rust on iron.
this desperate need to exorcise your mind of jobe consumed you, and your distractedness made it all that easier for satan himself to slip into the powder room undetected.
after washing and drying your hands you looked up at the mirror and found him leaning against the wall behind you, his expression mischievous.
“been here quite a while,” he remarked lowly. “almost thought you were secretly touching yourself to the thought of me for the last ten minutes.”
you scoffed at his filthy insinuation, anger bubbling deep within you. “the only time i would touch myself and think of you is when i’m dragging a knife across my throat wishing it were yours instead.”
jobe let out a small laugh. “ouch,” he cooed, feigning hurt.
you glared at his reflection in the mirror, hands anchored to the edge of the sink.
“what do you want?” you gritted out, your body practically vibrating with rage.
he pushed himself off the wall, positioning himself behind you. he was close enough for you to feel his presence but distant enough that your bodies weren’t touching each other.
“give it up,” he whispered, the teasing lilt of his voice had a sharp edge to it, as if he were sick and tired of the mind games. “apologize and i’ll consider taking it easy on you.”
you scoffed, the frayed threads of your patience slowly unraveling. “i hate you,” you seethed, punctuating each word. “i would rather burn in hell than apologize to you.”
he stepped forward, his toned body pinning you to the sink as he wordlessly tucked a strand of hair behind your ears, leaving the right side of your neck exposed.
“from the looks of it, you’re already in hell,” he whispered into your bared neck, his warm breath tickling your oversensitive skin. desire pooled deep in your stomach as you fought to remain still. “think i don’t notice the longing stares? all the times you stare into space, dreaming of the time i finally have my way with you and fulfill every sick fantasy that no doubt plays in your head.”
he slid his fingers up your waist slowly, each touch painfully igniting your raw nerves. “you’re frustrated, aren’t you,” he pointed out, his voice low and husky. “that as smart and as level as you are, you can’t seem to climb yourself out of this grave that i’ve dug for you.”
“you can do it, baby,” he murmured into your ear, his eyes never leaving yours. “apologize.”
the emotions inside you — passion, anger, frustration, lust — had reached a boiling point. you let out an almost animalistic noise and whirled around, pressing your chest to his.
surprise flickered briefly in his eyes. he grinned in a way that only victors could after witnessing the pain and the trail of destruction that followed him after each conquest.
you leaned closer to him, lips mere centimeters away from touching. the pulsing and flowing of blood pounded in your ear as desire clawed its way over the battered and bruised reason.
jobe let out a small laugh, appearing satisfied with himself. he leaned into you, prepared to close the gap after your desperation had brought you to him.
you gathered the shattered pieces of your self-control, grabbed the lapels of his jacket, and shoved him forward, the force startling him as he stumbled against the wall.
jobe let out a small laugh, almost proud that you still had some fight left in you.
“i’ll apologize to you over my dead body,” you whispered menacingly, bunching up the lapels of his jacket up in your first, debating whether to push him further up against the wall or to pull him close to you and end your suffering immediately.
a sly grin slowly formed on his lips. “how about over your naked one instead?”
“fuck you,” you snapped.
he reached into his pocket, pulling out his room access card and placing it in between your fingers. “promise?” he teased lowly, eyes flickering to your parted lips.
“you’ll come tonight, won’t you?” he whispered against your lips, his words meaning two things at once. “be a good girl and come see me.”
you shoved him backwards and stormed out of the room, on the brink of insanity.
Tags (tw): relationship, affectionate/clingy bf, clubbing/partying, secret hideout (?) kissing, drunk confession, alcohol mentioning, kissing, publicly making out
Synopsis: You’ve been in a relationship with Jude for about two years, due to having mutual friends you and the friend group decided to go clubbing. Your girlfriends kept on teasing you about your so called ‘Jude look’ as you were trying to convince them tonight would be focused on dancing. During the night you were exposed to Jude’s overly clingy side, a side you don’t see often. With you being the only thing fixated on he couldn’t get his eyes off of you, even at the smallest moments.
Genre: fluff with a tiny side of smut (kissing only)
Word count: ≈3k
Note: I LOVED this request am it was the cutest thing ever. Appreciate every req im getting, truly makes me smile! Also whoever wrote the one about cleaning up wounds ifykyk it was SO good I can’t wait to get started on that one.
You and Jude have been together for almost 2 years now. It’s been long enough that your social lives have naturally become intertwined.
You two share a close friend group that consists mostly of people you both know well. While you have a few friends who are more specifically yours and Jude has a few who are more specifically his, most of your friends overlap.
Getting the plans out of the group chat was one of the goals for this summer.
Going out to the newly opened club was one of them.
As you got ready with the girls you discussed the game plan of tonight.
Not that there was ever much of an actual plan when it came to your friend group, but it was nice to pretend there was one.
“Okay, first of all,” one of the girls said “we are not spending the entire night standing around the boys.”
You looked at her through the mirror. “I don’t spend the entire night standing around Jude.”
She gave you a look.
“Okay,” you corrected, turning back to your highlighter. “I don’t intentionally spend the entire night standing around Jude.”
“That’s worse.”
All the other girls broke out in laughter.
You rolled your eyes playfully checking your reflection one last time before reaching for your phone. The group chat was already going off.
Jude: are we actually leaving at 10 or
Jude: should i just assume 10 means 10:45
Jude: because i’m not standing outside waiting for you people
You snickered.
You: You know us so well ❤️
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
Jude: unfortunately
You smiled to yourself.
The girls noticed.
“Oh my God,” one of them groaned. “You’re doing the face.”
You frowned. “What face?”
“The Jude face.”
“There is no Jude face.”
“There absolutely is.”
You threw a makeup brush at her.
She dodged it, laughing. “See? Defensive. Guilty.”
Your phone buzzed again.
Jude: also tell your friends i’m serious
Jude: 10pm
Jude: please
You stared at the messages for a second before typing.
You: He says 10.
A chorus of groans filled the room.
“Fine,” one of the girls said, getting up. “Ten it is. But if we’re late, we’re blaming Jude.”
“Obviously.” you replied instantly
By the time you were all finally ready the original plan had, as expected, already fallen apart. Someone still needed to find her shoes, someone had forgotten her bag downstairs, and another girl had somehow decided she hated the outfit she’d spent the last hour getting ready in.
Still, when you eventually made your way downstairs, you could already hear the others waiting outside.
Jude was leaning against the car with the rest of the group dressed up for the night and looking far too pleased with himself.
His eyes found you almost immediately.
That familiar smile appeared on his face.
“Finally.”
You stopped in front of him. “Don’t start.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You said ‘finally.’”
“And I stand by it.”
You narrowed your eyes at him before he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.
“Hi,” he murmured.
Your expression softened the moment his lips found you.
“Hi.” you whispered back
Behind you, one of the other couples both made an exaggerated gagging noise. “It’s only them who act like that im telling you” the boy told his girl
You laughed, slipping your hand into Jude’s as the group started moving toward the cars.
As you made your way towards the entrance of the club you and Jude still had your arms interlocked.
As you walked in you were impressed by the vibe of it and the advanced look of the club.
Letting out an excited squeal you excused yourself from jude and ran towards the girls who were walking in front.
A group filled with giggles quickly found its way towards the bar.
Taking in some more to top off the pregame it was time to get to dancing.
As the boys came up towards yall you gave jude a big kiss on his cheek and told him you were “off to dance baby!”
As the girls were already pulling you softly by your arm jude watched you disappear with the cutest smile on his face.
“Look at him all smothered over her” the boys teased
“Man im just so lucky” Jude simply replied, his eyes still being on you as you made your way towards the dance floor
“Deserved bro” one of them said, patting jude on the back, “you gon stay here watching her the whole night though?”
Jude left a short pause before answering “she’s off to go do whatever with them girls, guess I’ll have to keep myself entertained”
“Sure you will” his friend replied as he slid a drink towards him “drink up, relax a bit”
As Jude took a sip of the drink his throat choked up “man what is this” he said coughing
“Be a man drink up” he joked, knowing Jude wasn’t a heavy drinker, “we’re ubering back anyways”
Relieved from the thought of not having to drive back him Jude started to ease up
As time went on the glasses multiplied.
You haven’t texted Jude this whole time as you were busy with the girls.
Playing as a wingman while also catching up to the beat drained you.
Excusing yourself from the girls you went towards the restroom, needing to freshen up a bit.
Finding yourself lost in this new club you wandered around a bit looking lost.
“Hey, you” a man said, placing both of his hands on your shoulders.
Looking up you were greeted by the face of your boyfriend.
“You okay?” he asked, leaning in so he could be heard over the loud music
“Im good baby, looking for the restroom actually.” you told
“I’ll show you”he offered reaching out his hand for you to hold
Locking your hands with his you followed him to the restroom, trying your best to memorise its location. “I literally walked past this like 3 times, how’d I miss it!”
“It’s pretty hidden right” he said “explains why there’s nobody here aswell”
As you peeped in to the ladies room you noticed it was completely empty “crazy, never seen a club restroom this abandoned.”
“I’ll wait for you outside okay?” Jude asked
Giving him a nod of approval you went in and freshened up.
A few minutes later you found Jude in the same position, patiently waiting for you.
“My gorgeous girl, felt like I lost you there” Jude dramatically sulked
Laughing at his clingyness you replied “Youre the biggest drama queen I know”
Suddenly lifting you up from the floor he answered “im not a drama queeen”
Cupping his cheeks you melted at his adorable behavior, it was obvious to you that he had been making good use of the bar. “Then youre just really cute”
“Fine, whatever you want me to be” Jude said kissing the inside of your hand that was cupping his face.
“Come on let’s go find the others again” you initiated
Just as you wanted to take a step towards the main area again you felt Jude holding onto your arm, silently asking you not to go back.
As you turned around Jude tilted his head to the side and added in a begging “please”
Jude was known for his low tolerance and with his affectionate attitude when drunk.
It was refreshing seeing this side of him, his guard all the way down, eyes just on you and no one else, and him clinging onto you like crazy.
“What’d you wanna do here then, there’s nothing” you asked in a soft voice, trying your best to conceal your joy of seeing him like this, all vulnerable and sweet.
“It couldn’t get any better than that then” he said, grabbing your hand and leading you two towards an empty corner behind the restroom.
Following his lead you couldn’t hold in your laugh anymore, “what are you doingg” as the biggest smile was showing on your face.
“Stand here yeah” he said smilingly while pointing towards the floor.
As you did what he asked you stood patiently waiting for his next move.
Grabbing both of your hands his demeanor suddenly changed, his eyes looking even bigger then usual and eyebrows relaxed he started speaking up.
“You know, I love you so much and I- I genuinely want to say thank you and how you’re always been there for me and make time for me even though our schedu-“
You cut him off, placing your finger on his lips you calmed him down.
Not only did the drinks make him clingy in his touch but also very affectionate with his words.
Next thing you know you felt his soft lips land on yours.
A kiss that started out gently turned into an exchange of words without speaking.
His teeth softly biting your lower lip to grant more acces into your mouth, and that all even while he’s intoxicated.
With Jude it felt like you never came short, his current demeanor was a confirmation.
Breaking away from the kiss you asked “shouldn’t we head back now though?”, even though you were the one asking, there was nothing sincere about it.
You both knew that this moment mattered more.
Jude therefore gave you just a quick “you know damn well” look and quickly continued on what was set on pause.
With your back against the wall you found your balance in gripping onto Jude’s shirt.
Moving your hands from his chest towards his waistband made his breath hitch for a bit.
Smiling back into the kiss you knew you got him.
You felt his head shake, dismissing your wittiness and continuing where he left.
Kiss, catch your breath, kiss again, resting your foreheads against each others. And so it went on for a bit till you two heard more and more people were starting to discover this restroom and called it quits. Not ready to get caught kissing by strangers in a random corner.
Finding your way back towards the girls you and Jude split ways.
As he found his way towards the boys, you found yours towards the girls.
Rapidly getting attacked with multiple questions on what took you so long you quickly blubbered out that ‘you got lost’, which, atleast wasn’t a complete lie.
“Look at her face” one of the girls clocked, “I told you she would do it”
“Do what?” You asked as you felt your ears heating up
“The Jude look” she managed to say in between her absurd laughs.
“Like i said earlier, I just got lost.” you said shrugging your shoulders.
“Fine fine fine, let’s go actually dance now” she finished
As you were about 3 songs away from collapsing in the dj put on ‘on the floor’ by jlo.
Squealing out “this is my song!! you felt your energy come back in your body.
As you and your girls danced seductively to the song you noticed eyes burning into you from the bar.
Throughout the night you were already aware of Jude’s stares at you, which made you even more provocative, knowing how he gets when he’s drunk.
It seemed like this song was the breaking point for him.
As you switched your focus back to the girls with you almost grinding into them it didn’t take more than 10 seconds till you felt 2 hands wrap around your waist from behind.
“Wrong direction baby” he said while pouting his lips.
His directness made you laugh, resulting your head falling back “you’re the funniest ever” you commented
Supporting your head with his hand now on the back of your neck he genuinely seemed confused “not sure if I get your point there baby”
As you’ve now fully turned your face towards him you stretched out your arms and laced them around his neck aswell. Standing on your toes you went for the direction of his lips.
Just when he was about to lean in you swiftly moved towards his ear “try harder” you teased.
“Games on now baby” he said, pinning your hands to your side and leaning in.
Kissing you desperately as if he didn’t have his moment not even an hour ago near the restrooms.
With Jude’s tight schedule due to football you never found much time to see him like this.
The constant use of calling you ‘baby’ and his eyes always being on you, but never in a possessive controlling way, made you realize how lucky you got.
Pulling back, Jude rested his head in your shoulder.
Continuing to kiss your neck you looked to the left and spotter your girlfriends taking pictures of this moment.
Not only were you blessed with a boyfriend like Jude, you also had the most precious friends around you too.
“Jude?” you said, kissing his hair, “I’m going back to the girls okay? Barely saw them tonight” you said sweetly
“Yeah ofcourse, I was about to go back to the bar anyways” he replied
“Good, have fun and don’t drink any more hm?” you said teasingly
Shaking his head in order to hide his smile he watched you turn your back, about to walk towards the girls again. “Baby?” he called out
“Yes?” you said, turning around
As Jude took 2 steps to reach you he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek “okay I’m leaving forrreal now.” He said proudly.
Rolling your eyes playfully you eyed him “you’re insufferable”
As the songs went on both you and the girls came to the decision to take a small break.
Striding towards the bar, all of the girls except 2 others went straight for a drink.
While you and the others went towards your boyfriends.
Jude welcomed you with a smile as if he hasn’t been looking at you the whole time “did you enjoy yourself there” he genuinely asked
“Ofcourse I did, unfortunately my feet did not. I’m getting killed in these heels” you commented while looking down.
“Come on sit here” Jude said, patting his lap, inviting you to sit.
Melting at his excitement of offering you this limited edition seat you eagerly accepted his invite.
As he ordered you some water to cool down, conversations started flowing around you two.
One of the other couples made a comment while pointing at Jude on how clingy he was being.
With Jude’s attention that was fully on you he didn’t hear what was said “huh sorry what’s that you said?”
As you and the couple laughed the boy shook his head “nothing, you’re good man”
Unaware, Jude just smiled and continued, circling his thumb on your thigh.
As the barman came towards you to ask if you would like anything more to drink Jude hurriedly spoke up for you, telling the barman ‘you were good’
As he walked away to serve other people you turned around in his lap, sitting sideways. “Really Jude? I could’ve told him that myself” you said, trying your best to hold in how down bad you were for him and his caring behavior when drunk.
“I know but you knoww, you just seemed really tired to speak you know that” he dramatically improvised
“You’re so silly” you said turning back towards the conversation
As you mingled in from conversation to conversation all while still being seated on Jude’s lap you could tell he wanted you to stay exactly where you’re at right now.
Jude himself didn’t say quite much, slipping under the radar he managed to avoid any conversations.
It’s not like he didn’t want to talk with anyone, it’s just that he was too occupied with tracing imaginary patterns on your thigh and occasionally whispering in your ear.
“Do you wanna know a secret?” He said, resting his chin on your shoulder, softly speaking.
“What is it?” you answered, tilting your head sideways, making it rest on top of his.
“I like you” he said with such a genuine tone
As you laughed you decided to stand up, wrapping your legs around him, making you face eachtoher. “I already knew that Jude”
“No but y/n I like you so much, so much. When you were dancing there with your friends I could barely keep myself together. You’re so precious to me and I just love you so mu-“
You cut him of by sealing his lips with yours.
Jude immediately melted into you from your lips on his.
Even though he was more drunk than you were, he somehow managed to keep you tucked safely against his chest, clinging to you like letting go wasn’t an option.
As your friend group was hooting at the sight none of you broke away from the kiss, giving them attention.
As Jude had his hands clinging around your waist you had yours cupping his cheeks.
Your left hand travelled up to his hair, lightly gripping it just a little tighter portraying an unspoken ‘dont stop just yet’.
As he took on the sign he deepened the kiss, softly biting your lower lip making you arch into him.
With no care on who was watching you lightly tightened your grip on his hair.
When you finally moved away neither of you stayed very far, foreheads still resting against each other.
As your chest was still softly heaving up and down in an attempt to catch breath Jude already started pecking your neck with soft, rapid kisses leaving you giggling.
“Im surprised you held me up for so long, thought we would fall to the ground any minute” you said
Looking up he spoke, “You’re taking a piss now love? I train my arms for these exact scenarios.” he said grinningly.
“My bad!” You said sarcastically squeezing his bicep playfully
Biting his lower lip in satisfaction he hesitated a little before speaking “maybe it’s the atmosphere here but I already forgot what your lips taste like.”
Even though you knew he was lying you nevertheless played into it, “oh really? Thats so weird isn’t it!”
Smilingly he leaned in closer, slightly tilting your head with his hand on your chin, pre-positioning your lips for him. “Maybe you could be reminded how well these arms hold you up no?”
“Perhaps” you said, unable to release anymore words out of your mouth before making a fool of yourself.
And for another time this night, he closed the gap between your lips, but this time, this one was more daringly and even more bolder.
AAAAA hope you guys enjoyed this, loved the idea and loved writing it. I hope I did the request justice as I added a little of my own flair in it. xx
+ + content warnings ; absolute filth i’m sorry // mention of established relationship, sub!jude, jude has a big dick, oral (jude receiving)
jude can barely even look at you while you have his dick in your mouth. the warm heat and wet pressure of your lips and tongue wrapping around his girth almost feels too good to combine with the sight. and don’t get him wrong, he’s had his dick in your mouth plenty of times before, but for fuck’s sake, if he looked down for just a moment to see the way your head bobs up and down his length, the way your cheeks hollow, looking so fucking pretty on your knees while you suck the life out of him, he swears he’s gonna burst into your mouth in an instant. too fast, he says. and he simply doesn’t want to cum too fast.
jude blames you constantly for making him so hard. it’s all your fucking fault. and he whines nonstop about how you’re responsible, how he needs you so so bad, how you need to take care of it… only to have him almost on the verge of literal tears with the way you take him deep in your throat. his hips would stutter, his whimpers would get louder and his hands would tremble around that makeshift ponytail he made at the back of your head every time you’d sink further down his dick. you can feel his cock throb against your tongue with the way it slides back into your throat feeling hot, heavy and thick.
he’s always so whiny when you take him like this. every drag of your lips makes him bite his lip hard to muffle another embarrassing sound— but then you’d tease him, swirl your tongue just right around his tip and— fuck—
“p-please, please—just like that… oh— fuck’s sake, love, don’t stop, i—” he begs and whimpers, his accent thicker than usual, with a big hand over his eyes, mouth gaping as he pants and moans, squirming and thrusting his hips up slightly. his other hand presses your head further down his length and holding you there, your nose pressing against the small hairs around the base of his cock, gagging slightly as he pumps his load down your throat, filling your mouth with so much of his cum that you can barely hold it in, letting it dribble past your lips and onto the floor you’re currently kneeling on.
synopsis: the release of your boyfriend's skims ad had you obsessed to say the least. you've lost count of how many times you've watched the video over and over again. it was supposed to stay your dirty little secret, one that you were willing to take to the grave, but unfortunately for you, your boyfriend came home early from practice and walked in on you fanning out.
content: fluff, 18+ mdni, suggestive (no smut), dry humping, make out session, no use of y/n, use of pet names, established relationship, they match each other's freak.
word count: 2.4k
a/n: wrote this before the world cup 😬 but i'm cleaning out my drafts. yall might've moved on from that skims comercial but i'm still at the restaurant!! not proof read, hope you enjoyed!
“everybody’s wearing skims”
you giggled to yourself for what felt like the hundredth time today. instinctively, you clicked replay on the video so that you could start giggling all over again. if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought this ad went on for hours with how long you’d been watching it, but no it was only 12 seconds long. it was safe to say you were maybe…just a tad bit obsessed.
but how could you not be?
the way jude spoke in his midlands accent, juggling the ball between his legs in nothing but a pair of skims boxers, practically seducing the camera with his stunning looks as the camera kept panning up and down his body...god, he was just so—
you let out a sigh. you took a second to glance at the bedroom door. you knew jude was supposed to be at practice right now, so there was no way he’d catch you watching his old advertisement, but you could never be too sure. this was supposed to be your dirty secret, one you were planning on taking to the grave. you didn’t want anyone—especially not jude—to know that in your free time, you thirsted over your own boyfriend’s videos. sometimes, you felt more like a dedicated fan rather than an actual girlfriend. it was embarrassing to say the least, but you couldn’t help yourself. he just looked so fucking good, you didn’t know how to resist his charms!
you thought about it for a second, wondering if you should just stop right now and do something more productive with your day. maybe you could clean or finish that book you were supposed to be reading or…
you pressed the reply button again, letting the music start up again. all you could do is kick your feet and squeal. you rolled around in you and jude’s shared bed, giggling to yourself like a maniac.
it was all fun in games until the door to the bedroom flew open. had you not been squealing like a school girl, you probably would’ve realized a car was pulling up in the driveway. if you hadn’t been kicking your feet, blushing at your boyfriend over and over again, you would’ve heard the footsteps of someone coming up the stairs. and if you hadn’t been watching that fucking skims ad, you would’ve realized that 15 minutes ago, jude had texted you, letting you know that practied ended early and he was coming straight home.
“what are you doing, love?” the sudden sound of someone else’s voice mad you jump, practically falling off the bed and dropping your phone on the floor. before you could even attempt to come up with a decent excuse, the video started playing again.
that voice that you were fawning over just two seconds ago made you cringe. your face twisted in embarrassment and your cheeks quickly started heating up. gosh, you wanted to crawl in a hole and die.
“i can explain, i swear—” you attempted to do some damage control, but to no avail.
“is that…?” jude cut you off, his face morphing into one of genuine confusion.
you were frozen in place, not knowing what to do. you silently pleaded for some kind of way out from this completely embarrassing situation, but your prays went unanswered. instead, jude simply moved away from the door and further into your shared bedroom. casually, as if he didn’t just catch you watching his old underwear ad, jude walks over to you. you don’t know what to say. you keep attempting to come up with sort of justification for getting caught red handed, but no words would come out of your mouth.
jude picked up your phone from the ground, turning it over to confirm his suspicions. staring back at him was him from two years ago, dressed in nothing but skims boxers, holding a soccer ball. he raised an eyebrow at the video and he couldn’t help but laugh.
you let out a groan, slapping your hands over your face to cover yourself from his teasing gaze. you felt so humiliated, but clearing that was amusing to jude, because he just breaks out into a louder fit of laughter.
this was really the worst case scenario. you already felt like such a pervert, drooling over your own boyfriend like he was some fantasy character, and you knew that if anyone found out about your guilty pleasure, they'd probably judge you. but this? him walking in on you, catching you red handed like this? he would probably think you’re so weird or obsessed with him.
you wanted to go back in time to 10 minutes ago and tell yourself to turn the damn video off and do something productive with your day, but now it was too late. the two of you were kind of in a silent stand off, both of you struggling to come up with something to say to the other, but unfortunately jude found his voice first
“how many times have you watched this, anyways?” he asked, feigning genuine curiosity.
you hesitated to respond, you didn't want to tell the truth, but you also knew you were a terrible liar, and jude would clock you instantly. slowly, you removed your hands from your face, bracing yourself for the conversation you didn't want to have at all.
“like once…” your voice cracked and it was unnaturally high pitched.
he gave you a knowing look.
“okay a couple of times…” you couldn’t even meet his gaze fully.
he continued to stare at you, silently judging you for trying to lie straight to his face.
“fine—okay, a lot of time. happy?” you let out a groan, annoyed with how quickly he could get the truth out of you.
you decided to surrender. there was no reality where you could honestly get away with this. you know what he saw and he knows what he saw, which was you being a little weirdo while he wasn't here.
“i thought you were at practice,” you tried to defend yourself again, though your attempt was pretty weak.
“it ended early today. i texted you to let you know i was on my way home…” jude paused, stifling a chuckle, “...but i guess you were too busy to read my text message.”
your face was on fire at this point. you cringed even harder, while jude just bursted out laughing again, as if he had just told the funniest joke known to mankind—which he didn't. god, you wanted to punch him in his perfectly perfect face.
“it's really not what you think,” you mumbled out.
jude didn't even know why you were even still bothering to defend yourself at this point, but it was funny to watch, so he decided to play along for a bit longer.
“oh really?” jude smiled, covering his mouth so that he could keep some of his composure.
you tried stammering something close to justification, but the only thing that you managed to say was “it’s not like that” a couple of times before you gave up completely. jude could only pretend not to laugh.
if he was being honest, he didn’t really care at all. if anything, he actually found it amusing that you would actually watch his old ads. not even he bothered watching any of them. honestly, he completely forgot about the commercial almost immediately after he filmed it, but clearly it wasn’t the same for you.
if anything, he took this as a compliment. his girlfriend thought he was so attractive, she wanted to watch him over and over again. it was an ego boost and he was willing to admit it was pretty fucking hot too. which is why he wanted to continue indulging in this conversation despite your obvious shame.
“so you weren't in here drooling over videos of me?” jude snickered.
you didn't think it was possible, but in one quick instant, he was able to suck the air from out of your lungs. jude decided that he wanted to have this conversation as close to you as humanly possible, so he walked over to you, placing his hands on your thighs. your eyes shot down to your lap, unable to look away from the sight of his veiny hands basically engulfing your thighs.
usually, that was enough to send you over the edge and get you flustered, but jude decided to push you further. he leaned in even closer so that his nose was almost brushing against yours. finally, you looked up to meet his gaze and you instantly regretted it.
the way jude was looking at you was enough to stop your heart for a moment. it was intense to say the least, like he was looking into your soul. it was all too much for you, so you tried to scoot away and create some distance between you two, but jude continued to hold you in place.
“i don't know why you're acting so shy now. you seemed to be enjoying yourself just a couple of minutes ago,” jude grabbed yourself chin in between his fingers.
he was right. you didn't even know why you were so embarrassed, but you couldn't help feeling cringed out by your own behavior. as a result, you ended up missing out on the signals jude was sending your way right now. jude tilted his head and on instinct, your eyes flickered down to his lips.
you swallowed a lump in your throat, forcing yourself to reply, although you were mostly focused on the shape of his lips, how soft they would feel against your own, and how…you almost forgot what you were supposed to be talking about.
“i guess i just feel a little guilty about…”
“guilty? what for?” he cut you off again, this time seeming genuinely surprised by your reasoning. “you haven’t done anything.”
his statement made you relax just a little bit. at least he didn’t find you as creepy as you found yourself. though, you still had that lingering feeling of utter humiliation that getting caught provided.
“i just didn’t want you to find out this way, it’s so embarrassing,” you muttered, biting your lip slightly.
“it’s flattering,” he corrected you with a cheeky smile.
“for you. for, me it’s embarrassing.”
jude shook his head. obviously, him trying to reason with you with words was pointless, so he was going to do the next best thing. he still had a stern grip on your chin, and he used that to advantage, bringing you in closer so that he could kiss you. your eyes widened in shock before you surrendered almost immediately, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch. you wrapped your arms around his neck as he fell forward to deepen the kiss, using the bed to catch him.
you pulled him back and he happily obliged, so that he was fully laying on top of you instead of standing up. jude’s hands went from the bed to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him. his tongue grazed your bottom lip and immediately, you got the message, opening your mouth to give him full access and he took the opportunity to explore every inch of mouth. you wrap your legs around jude’s waist, causing him to let out a surprised groan. suddenly, he was trapped, but it’s not like he was complaining. without realizing it, you slowly started grinding up against his legs, causing jude to pull away.
“you’re making me lose my mind here,” he huffed out, still trying to catch his breath.
“i can’t help it,” you giggled, already moving in, so that you could carry on kissing him.
he pulled back again, continuing to speak, “you have absolutely no idea what you do to me…” his grip on your waist somehow grew tighter and you already knew you’d be waking up with some sort of mark tomorrow morning.
“i like seeing how into me you are.”
“what—does that turn you on or something?” you raised an eyebrow at him.
“a lot, actually,” he confessed, “it makes me feel relieved knowing i’m not the only one in this relationship completely obsessed.”
you let out a laugh, which is quickly engulfed by jude’s mouth as he goes back to kissing you. you let out a satisfied moan as the two of you go back to mixing each other's spit against each other’s tongues, silently battling for dominance.
this time, it’s jude whose hips involuntarily jerk up against yours, causing you to gasp at the feeling of the obvious tent in his pants, but you don’t think about it for long before you go back to grinding against him.
the feeling is euphoric. despite the barrier of clothes stopping the two of you from reaching absolute pleasure, you still felt bliss. you were thankful that your moans were being muffled by your makeout session, otherwise you would’ve been embarrassed by all the sounds you were making. your hands moved down to his back, scratching against his practice tracksuit as you start to feel that familiar damping of your underwear, the longer you grind against him, fused with the feeling of the constant throbbing clit every time he accidentally hits the right spot.
you broke the kiss to let out a whimper, “now you're the one torturing me.”
jude grinned down at you, his breath shaking just as much as yours, “now we’re even then.”
“well i don't want to be even,” you huffed out grabbing him by his shirt collar, “i want to be satisfied.”
“oh—got it. understood,” he nodded slowly, slightly surprised by your demeanor after you had spent the last couple of minutes rolling around in embarrassment.
he only allowed your request to stun him for a second before he was all over you, kissing your neck, behind your ear, under your jaw, everywhere. the feeling of his lips pressed against you, finding the perfect spots was enough to make your toes curl and for you to let out another string of soft moans.
before you could process anything, jude’s hands were trailing down from your waist to your thighs, pushing you further onto the bed and spreading your legs further apart. for a second time you pulled away from him, leaving a trail of saliva to connect the two of you. jude looked genuinely perplexed, but you ignored him.
“totally unrelated, but do you think that you could juggle a soccer ball for me a couple of times…i just want to see something real quick,” you asked, any shame you had before, completely leaving your body.
jude’s jaw fell open before he burst out laughing, shaking his head and letting it fall onto your shoulder. he was both stunned and amused by your audacity.
“yeah, i think i’ll be able to work something out for you.” he laughed again, continuing with his antics against your neck.
masterlist ᯓ★
lo's commentary: hi angels! i apologise for my absence but im back w another request hehehe. i LOVED this one it was so fun to write <3
pairing: bf!jude bellingham x reader
summary: jude has been winding you up all evening – stealing sauce from the pan, balancing the remote on your head, being his usual annoying and clingy self. when you finally snap and tell him to sit still, he goes quiet but obeys, you jokingly say “good boy.” except he doesn’t laugh. he likes it. by the time you’re both on the sofa with your hands around his throat, he’s asking you to take control properly.
warnings: explicit smut, MDNI, praise kink, light choking (non-breath play), submissive!jude exploring it for the first time, established relationship, soft dom!reader, explicit language, brief mentions of physical teasing/playfighting that turns sexual
wc: 3.1k!
The first time you ever took control in bed, it started with a joke.
You only meant it as a joke.
Jude had been pissing you off on purpose all evening. He’d come home from training like a ball of energy, as if he hadn’t been running around all afternoon. He dropped his bag in the hallway, and immediately found his way into the kitchen like a satellite orbiting the only thing that mattered to him as soon as you were in sight. You were at the stove, stirring the sauce you’d spent twenty minutes getting right, and suddenly he was right behind you. His chest against your back, chin hooked over your shoulder, breath warm against your neck.
“Smells good,” he murmured, already reaching past you.
You swatted his hand, already knowing exactly what he was going too. “Don’t.”
He did it anyway, like the toddler he sometimes acted like he was. Two fingers dipped straight into the pan, scooped up a taste, and disappeared into his mouth with a satisfied hum. You turned, wooden spoon still in hand, and stared at him.
“Jude! Be fucking for real… I don’t want your fingers in my sauce!”
“What?” He licked the residual sauce from his thumb, eyes bright with mischief that only ever came out when he was home and safe and decided you were his favourite toy to play with for the night. “I’m helping you! It’s just quality control, babe.”
“You’re being a child.”
“I’m being helpful.” He leaned in again, this time pressing a sticky kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You can’t be grumpy with me baby. Tell me you missed me.”
“Fuck off,” you huff, but you were smiling anyway.
The rest of the evening continued exactly like that.
He carried on doing tiny, deliberate little things he knew would wind you up, all of them wrapped in the soft, obsessive affection that meant you couldn’t actually be pissed off with him. While you plated the food he stole a piece of chicken straight off your fork with his teeth, grinning around it like he’d just won a game you didn’t know you were playing. At the table he kept “accidentally” knocking his knee against yours under the table, then pretending to be deeply offended when you kicked him back. He hummed an off-key version of whatever song had been stuck in his head at training, loud enough that you had to reach over and clap a hand over his mouth just to hear the telly. Every time you tried to scroll on your phone he would lean in, rest his chin on your shoulder, and ask what you were looking at even though he could clearly see the screen. When you got up to get water he followed, pressed you gently against the fridge, and kissed the side of your neck until you were laughing and shoving at his chest. He even tried the classic cold-feet-on-your-thighs move once you were both on the sofa, sliding his icy toes under your leg with the most innocent expression in the world.
It was annoying. It was relentless. It was also so completely, stupidly him that you couldn’t stay mad for longer than thirty seconds at a time.
The final straw was him trying to balance the TV remote… on your head… whilst you were trying to concentrate on the episode of Love Island that was playing.
You felt the plastic edge of it wobble against your hair and immediately reached up to grab it.
“Jude! Can you sit still for five fucking seconds before we go to bed?! Please!”
Your voice had risen just enough for his eyes to widen. He never actually wanted to upset you or make you angry. Teasing you and winding you up was part of how he showed you how much he loved you.
His eyebrows furrowed. The playful light in his face flickered, then dimmed completely. He stilled instantly, hand dropping the remote so it landed softly in his lap, shoulders dropping, bottom lip poking out ever so slightly like a wounded puppy who’d just been told he wasn’t allowed on the sofa. The living room went quiet apart from the episode droning on.
Your heart lurched a little in your chest as you watched him obey so easily. He looked… sad. Softened into something almost submissive by the way you’d spoken to him, in a way that made something protective and strange twist in your stomach. You hadn’t meant to actually scold him. You never did. The two of you lived in a constant loop of teasing and touching and deliberate annoyance that somehow always circled back to affection. This felt different, though. Like you’d stepped on something fragile without meaning to.
So you made a joke to brighten his face back up. Or what you thought was a joke.
You reached up, brushed your thumb across the pout of his lower lip, and said it lightly, almost laughing—
“Good boy, Jude.”
He blinked at you, eyebrows nearly raising to his hair line. He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Sputtered a little with words that wouldn’t come out and then ultimately gave up as he cleared his throat and forced himself to look away from you. You ducked your head to meet his eyes again, but his gaze lingered stubbornly on the floor like he was suddenly too embarrassed to meet them.
The air between you thickened and you both felt it settle over your skin like static.
What was that?
You forced an awkward laugh and nudged him with your toes, trying to shove the moment back into familiar territory. “I was joking, Jude–”
He didn’t smile or tease back straight away. He sat there still as stone for a second longer, the tips of his ears gone unmistakably pink, throat working around a swallow you could see. Then he shifted in his seat, attempting to be subtle, adjusting himself in his joggers like the words had landed far lower than either of you had expected. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, and when he finally spoke his voice was a little rougher than usual.
“Nah, you’re good,” he said, trying for casual and missing it by a mile. “You know what I’m like. Golden boy loves a bit of praise, yeah? Especially from his favourite girl.” He glanced at you then, eyes darker than they should have been, the flush creeping down his neck. “Didn’t mean to piss you off though. I’m sorry, baby.”
Before you could answer he was already reaching for you, his hands settling on your waist and pulling you easily across the sofa and into his lap. You ended up straddling one of his thighs, his arms wrapping around you from behind as he pressed his face into the side of your neck and breathed you in.
“Forgive me?” he murmured against your skin, voice soft and sweet and still a little shaky. He pressed a slow kiss just under your ear, then another to the hinge of your jaw, then one more to the corner of your mouth when you turned your head. “I’ll be good. Promise. No more remote-balancing. No more sauce-stealing. I swear.”
“I don’t believe you, but you’re already forgiven Jude,” you sigh, leaning back into him.
You felt him smile against your cheek as his hold on you tightened, like he needed the contact to settle whatever the “good boy” had woken up in him. His heart was thudding a little too hard against your back. His ears were still pink. Every time your fingers absently stroked over the back of his hand where it rested on your stomach, his breath hitched. You could also feel him twitching against where you were sitting but neither of you bought that up.
He was brushing it off. He was being sweet. But he was also very, very flustered. Interesting.
You stayed in his lap longer than you meant to. Love Island continued on in the background, the contestants arguing about some nonsense in the villa while Jude’s arms stayed locked around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder with no intention of letting you go. Every so often he’d press another lazy kiss to the side of your neck, or nuzzle against the soft skin just under your ear, still more quiet than usual. His heartbeat had slowed, but the flush on his ears hadn’t completely faded.
Eventually you shifted, climbing off him so you could actually see the screen properly. He let you go with a soft, dramatic sigh, like you’d deeply offended him, then immediately stretched out along the sofa and dropped his head into your lap instead.
“Comfier,” he mumbled, already reaching up to play with the hem of your top.
You rolled your eyes and kept watching. For about four whole minutes he was almost well behaved. Almost.
Then the teasing started again. First it was the commentary. Low, continuous, and completely unnecessary.
“She’s lying through her teeth, look at her face–”
“Nah he’s not into her, he’s just bored–”
“Baby, if someone spoke to me like that on national telly I’d never show my face in public again–”
You shushed him. He grinned and kept going, louder.
When that didn’t get a big enough reaction he started poking the soft spot just above your hip with one finger, over and over, until you slapped his hand away. He waited exactly three seconds, then did it again. When you grabbed his wrist he twisted free and used both hands to tickle your sides, laughing when you yelped and nearly kicked the remote off the coffee table.
“Jude– stop– I’m trying to watch–”
“You weren’t even watching! You were thinking about how cute I looked when I said sorry earlier.”
“I was not!”
“You were. Your blushed”
“You blushed, you absolute–”
He cut you off by sitting up suddenly, crowding into your space, and planting a loud, exaggerated kiss right on your mouth. You shoved at his chest. He only leaned in harder, still grinning, still talking against your lips.
“Admit you missed me being annoying.”
“I will literally smother you with this cushion, Bellingham.”
“Do it then.”
You grabbed the nearest throw pillow and swung it at him. He caught it mid-air with a delighted bark of laughter, yanked it out of your hands, and used it to lightly bonk you on the head before tossing it aside. That was your last straw. The playfight properly started in the next breath, hands grabbing, bodies twisting, both of you laughing too hard to form proper insults. He tried to pin your wrists above your head the way he always did; you slipped free and shoved him onto his back instead. He let you, like he always did. His long legs tangled with yours as you ended up half on top of him, both of you breathing harder than the wrestling really required.
Kissing got mixed in somewhere along the way. Messy, laughing kisses that turned slower without either of you deciding to. His hands slid under your top, warm against your bare back. Yours found their way into his hair, tugging just enough to make him tilt his head and make a soft, needy sound against your mouth. The television was still playing, forgotten. The only real sounds were the shift of fabric, the quiet hitch of breath, the occasional low murmur of each other’s names.
You ended up straddling his hips properly, knees either side of his waist. He was looking up at you with a soft, dark-eyed expression he got when the teasing started tipping into something hungrier. One of his hands rested loosely on your thigh. The other was still tangled in the hem of your top like he couldn’t decide whether to pull it off or just keep touching you through it.
You leaned down, still smiling, still half in the game of playfighting you wanted to win, and wrapped both hands around his throat. Thumbs resting lightly over his pulse, fingers spanning the strong column of his neck the way you’d done a hundred times before when you were only pretending to choke him out during a playfight.
He stilled completely again. His eyes went wide, brown and shimmering and suddenly so open it almost hurt to look at. The playful light drained out of them again in one slow blink, replaced by something so primal it stole your breath. His lips parted. A soft, shaky breath left him, and you felt his throat move under your palms when he swallowed.
For a second neither of you spoke. Then his voice came out low and rough, almost a whisper, like the words had been dragged up from somewhere he hadn’t meant to show you yet.
“Fuck… keep your hands right there and ride me. I want to feel you while you’re holding me down like that. Please.”
His hips shifted under you, and you felt exactly how hard he already was. His hands stayed where they were, not trying to take control, not trying to move yours. He looked up at you, flushed and waiting and so clearly turned on by the simple weight of your fingers on his throat that the air between you went tight all over again.
The joke was long gone, apparently.
“What?” you breathed, almost laughing from disbelief.
Jude’s throat flexed under your palms. His eyes were so dark they looked almost black, lashes low, mouth parted like he couldn’t quite get enough air. When he spoke his voice came out broken, the words tumbling over each other the way they only ever did when he was desperate.
“I’m dead serious, baby. Keep your hands there… hold me down and ride me. Call me a good boy again. I— fuck, I don’t even know what’s happening right now but you’re making me so fucking hard it’s stupid. Please.”
The last word cracked like he couldn’t believe he was asking for it out loud.
You stared at him for a long second, feeling the way his pulse hammered against your thumbs. Then you leaned down and kissed him slowly once, before sitting back up and rolling your hips against the thick line of him still trapped in his joggers.
“Okay,” you said quietly. “Then be good for me.”
He whimpered and nodded eagerly. You got his joggers and boxers down together, just far enough. He lifted his hips to help, movements clumsy with how worked up he already was, and the second you wrapped a hand around him he made a punched-out little sound that went straight to where you were already soaked for him. You stroked him once, twice, watching his head tip back against the sofa cushions, the long line of his throat still offered up under your other hand.
“Stay still,” you told him.
He nodded, eyes half-lidded, and actually managed it, his body tense and trembling but obedient. It was that obedience that made you unravel. You shifted, tugged your own clothes out of the way, and sank down onto him in one slow, continuous slide. The stretch forced a quiet moan out of both of you at the same time. Jude’s hands flew to your thighs and then immediately dropped away again, like he’d remembered he wasn’t supposed to take over.
“Good,” you breathed, settling fully, both hands finding his throat again. “That’s it. Just like that.”
His whole body shuddered.
You started moving with slow rolls of your hips at first, then deeper, finding a rhythm that made his breath stutter every time you sank down. Every few thrusts you tightened your fingers and watched the way his eyes fluttered, the way his mouth fell open on a gentle moan. He kept trying to thrust up to meet you and then forcing himself still again, thighs shaking with the effort of being good for you.
“You’re doing so well,” you murmured, leaning down so the words brushed his lips. “Taking it so good for me. My good boy.”
Jude made a sound you’d never heard from him before, high and wrecked and almost wounded. His hands fisted in the sofa cushions either side of his head, shaking. Sweat was starting to shine at his temples. Every time you called him that the muscles in his stomach jumped and his cock twitched deep inside you like the praise was wired straight to his nerves.
“Fuck– baby– I can’t–” He was panting now, words half-swallowed. “Feels too good. You’re gonna make me come so quick I-I’m embarrassed.”
“Don’t be.” You rolled your hips harder, grinding down on every downward stroke so he felt every inch of you. One hand stayed at his throat; the other slid down to where you were joined, fingers finding your own clit so you could chase your own pleasure while you watched him fall apart. “You can come whenever you need to. You’ve been so good. Look at you… letting me use you like this.”
The visual of you touching yourself made Jude’s eyes fly open, locked onto you, and his expression shattered into complete ecstasy. His back arched clean off the sofa, a broken moan tearing out of him as he came hard, pulsing inside you, completely silent for a second before the sound finally caught up and left him in a long, shaky groan of your name. You felt every throb of it, felt the way his thighs locked and trembled, felt the desperate tiny aftershocks that kept rolling through him while you kept moving, chasing your own edge.
You came with your forehead pressed to his, both hands still cradling his throat, whispering “good boy, good boy, that’s it” against his open mouth until the pleasure crested and broke over you too.
Afterwards he was ruined. Completely fucked out in a way you’d never seen. His chest heaved. His eyes were glassy and unfocused. When you carefully lifted your hands from his neck he made a soft, almost lost sound, like he missed the weight of them already. You stayed on top of him for a minute, stroking his cheek as he came down, pressing soft kisses to the corners of his mouth, his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose.
“You okay?” you whispered.
Jude blinked up at you slowly, like he was still somewhere else. Then a tiny, dazed smile tugged at his lips.
“Yeah,” he rasped. “I… yeah. That was– fuck. I’ve never… I didn’t know I could feel like that.” His hands finally came up hesitantly , and settled on your waist like he needed you to anchor him back to reality. “Can we… do it again sometime? If you want. God, that was so fucking good baby.”
You laughed softly and kissed him, slow and sweet, tasting the salt from his sweat on his upper lip. “We can do it as many times as you want, Jude.”
He closed his eyes and nodded, still breathing hard, still looking like you’d rearranged something fundamental inside him.
synopsis: meeting his family was one thing, becoming it was another.
cw: established!rs . announcement of an engagement . sfw . NOT PROOFREAD . denise bellingham . jobe bellingham . mark bellingham . like one curse word . out for family dinner night . nothing else cuz im a boring ho and didnt even finish this
𓏲๋࣭࣪ ˖ ࣪ a/n UPDATE / i had to fix the spacing on this, it was annoying me ( & has now been proofread and fixed ) !! join my taglist to be notified whenever i post
"YOU'VE ALREADY met them."
"i know."
he raised his brow, eyeing the way she kept readjusting her hair. "you sure?"
once she was satisfied, she turned to face him.
"how do i look."
"gorgeous."
"ok, good." she smiled and grabbed her purse before throwing a few things in it. far too skittish for someone who had nothing to be nervous about.
"ready?"
"whenever you are, baby."
the drive hadn't taken long.
most of the time was spent in a resigned silence.
not because either of them had nothing to say, but because everytime jude looked over, she was fidgeting with her hair or fixing her outfit.
he didn't say anything about it, because he understood. but at the same time he wanted to make sure she knew that there was nothing to worry about.
"my family loves you."
she glanced at him and a soft laugh escaped her lips.
"shit, i'd hope so."
he smiled, reaching a hand over the center console to place on her knee.
by the time they'd arrived, his family was already seated at a table within the restaurant.
the second they came into view denise had spotted them and was already pushing back her chair.
"there they are."
"hi, sweetheart."
denise was already pulling her into a hug before jude had even reached the table.
"i've missed you."
"i've missed you too." she chuckled while jude waited patiently beside them.
"do I get a hello?"
denise smiled up at him.
"of course you do."
she gave him a quick hug before smoothing a hand over the front of his shirt.
"you've creased this already."
"nice to see you too, mum."
mark stood shortly after, greeting jude with a quick hug before turning to her.
"good to see you."
"you too," she smiled. "how've you been?"
"can't complain."
jobe leaned back in his seat, watching everyone greet one another before deciding to chime in.
"i was wondering how long it'd take mum to forget she had two sons."
denise glanced over her shoulder.
"don't be dramatic."
"i'm just saying."
"you're always just saying."
"he's got a point," jude muttered.
"don't encourage him."
"someone has to."
she laughed, shaking her head as mark gestured towards the empty seats.
"come on then, make yourselves comfortable." mark said.
they settled into their seats, jude pulled her chair out before taking the one beside her.
"thank you."
"always."
jobe watched the exchange with a grin.
"look at him."
"what?"
"opening doors, pulling chairs out..." he looked at her. "he never does that for me."
jude didn't even glance up from unfolding his napkin.
"you're perfectly capable."
"and she's not?"
"she deserves it."
there was no hesitation in his answer.
just something simple, said as though it didn't need explaining.
she felt her cheeks warm, reaching beneath the table to give his hand a small squeeze.
he returned it without a second thought.
the waiter stopped by to take their drink orders before giving them another few minutes with the menus.
"have you two managed to get away much recently?" mark asked.
jude shook his head.
"not really. schedules haven't lined up."
"you need a holiday," denise said. "the pair of you."
"we've been talking about it," she replied.
"have you decided where?"
she looked across at jude.
"not yet."
"well," denise smiled, "you'll have plenty of time to start thinking about those things."
"what things?"
"the future."
for a moment, nobody said anything.
she glanced at jude.
he looked back at her, the smallest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"actually..." she said softly.
jude's hand found hers beneath the table, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.
"we've already started."
the small movement caught denise's attention.
not because of anything they said.
because of the way jude looked at her.
"jude..."
her voice was quiet.
everyone followed her gaze as the couple raised their linked hands into view, showing off the fancy ring on her left hand.
mark was next to notice, a smile slowly appeared across his face.
"wait."
jobe had leant forward in his seat, looking between the two of them.
"no way."
she laughed softly, feeling the nerves she'd had all evening finally start to disappear.
"yeah."
jude squeezed her hand.
"we got engaged."
denise immediately reached for her, pulling her into a hug from across the table.
"oh my god."
she laughed into the hug, hugging her back.
"i was wondering why you two were acting so suspicious."
"we weren't suspicious," jude argued.
jobe looked at him.
"you absolutely were."
"how?"
"you've been smiling all night."
"i smile."
"not like that."
mark shook his head, laughing quietly as he looked between them.
"i'm happy for you both."
the simplicity of it made her smile.
no big speech or dramatic reaction, just genuine happiness.
"i knew she was the one," denise said, still holding onto her hand.
jobe nodded in agreement.
"yeah, unfortunately."
jude looked over.
"unfortunately?"
"because now i have to deal with you being even more annoying."
"i'm engaged, not cured."
"exactly my point."
she couldn't help but laugh.
somehow, even with the nerves and the secret she'd been carrying all night, it felt exactly how it was supposed to.
because she wasn't being welcomed into something she was a stranger to.
@ 𝐂𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐙 ─
was gonna do more with this but i couldn't be effed. this is so rushed because ive got so many drafts unfinished that im planning on posting.
reader doing the “calling my boyfriend my husband“ prank on jude
https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGdxL17D8/
(example vid and basically how I imagined the whole thing)
can just picture jude giggling to himself at this for real🐰🐰
◟﹒ʚɞ warnings: none! established relationship; sweetbf!jude cheesin and affectionate; ig implied sex??? ♡
“hello?” you answered convincingly, holding the phone up to your ear whilst jude sat beside you in the driver’s seat, scrolling on his phone absentmindedly. “yes, this is shake shack?”
“i’d like to put in an order for pickup — yeah, two shakeburgers with fries,” you cover the mic with your hand then, turning your head to talk with your boyfriend. “do you want cheesy fries or normal fries, babe?”
“normal — you know i don’t like cheese, love.” jude answered, your lip curling into a smile as you laugh softly. “i know but still, i wanted to ask; just in case.”
“and you want no pickles in your burger; and a chocolate shake with it too, right?” “mhm.” he nods, going back to scroll on his phone as you went back to your call.
“hello?” you speak, twirling your finger around a strand of your hair. “yeah so my husband and i would like to have a shake burger meal for the both of us — but with one of the meals, could you remove the pickles and make the fries normal and with the other, add more cherry peppers and make the fries cheesy?”
you could just about hear jude adjusting in his seat — catching him from the corner of your eye the way he stared at the side of your head, his eyes twinkling with something that looked a lot like mischief as his lips threatened to tug into a smile.
“any drinks? yeah one chocolate shake and then a fanta. and then for sauces — we’ll just have some ketchup and bbq sauce.”
you felt jude’s hand interlink with yours then, his smile still written across his face as you continued with the fake call. “oh okay, that’s fine — do you know what time it’ll be ready? so that my husband can go and pick it up?”
my husband. two simple words jude didn’t think could make him feel the way that he did — a sense of pride washing over him as his smile widened, practically cheesing in his spot in the driver’s seat.
“yeah, i can give you his name.” you nod, resisting the urge to laugh again when you felt him plant featherlight kisses across your shoulder and bringing your hand that were still interlocked with his up to his lips, ghosting across the sensitive skin. “yeah so his first name is jude — and then his last is bellingham.”
“..yes, he’s the footballer.” that made you smile, nodding as your boyfriend continued to plant kisses across the back of your hand and arm, the feeling of his smile against your skin sending shivers down your spine. “and it’ll be ready in 5-10 minutes?”
“yeah, that’s fine — alright thank you, have a nice day!”
“okay babe, i’ve set the order now,” you say once placing your phone back across your lap, turning your head to find jude still smiling hugely — in which you couldn’t help but smile back.
“so.” he acknowledges finally after a few moments of silence, his hand reaching to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “i’m your husband now?”
you bite down on your tongue as a laugh threatened itself out. “babe, what are you talking about?” “nuh uh baby — you know exactly what i’m talking about.”
“you said i’m your husband to the clerk on the phone.” “yeah and?” you shrug casually but the sparkle in your eyes was evident from the way jude’s smile was practically blinding. “i mean, it’s basically true — it’s just not in writing.”
“mhm.” he hums before stealing your lips for a searing kiss, the feeling of his smile against yours making you laugh softly. “judeee..”
“i liked that.” jude confesses, cupping your hand against your cheek, pulling away to plant another kiss against the side of your lips. “when you called me your husband.” another kiss, this time across the curve of your neck. “makes us feel more real — like you’re putting it out in the future for us.”
“mm,” you mumble lowly, taking great joy at your boyfriend before you pushed him subtly, his chin resting against your shoulder. “yeah well, i’ll make it a habit to call you that more often, husband.”
“fuck love..” jude groans into your neck again, electric shocks of pleasure spiking down your spine before it was immediately replaced by the feeling of the car roaring to life.
“we getting the burgers now?” you asked innocently, catching the mischievous glint that shone in your boyfriend’s big, brown eyes before he scoffs out a soft laugh.
“we’ll get the burgers.” he leans over to plant another kiss to your temple before grazing his lips against the shell of your ear, making your breath hitch. “and then once we’re home, i’m gonna make you feel exactly how my future wife should feel.”
──── ❝ jude x model celebcrush! reader ❞ ⌞ 644 wc⌝
synopsis ⪩ Jude embarrassed himself admitting his celebrity crush on the newest rising star and hot topic in the model industry - you. What he didn’t expect is to encounter feelings of reciprocation at their game against Norway.
warnings. . none
──── ──── part 1 part 2────
Charming, cool, composed - that’s how Jude was viewed in his fanbase and even beyond that. And that was true for the most parts, not just some gimmick held up for the public by his PR team. He was a gentleman thoroughly and it showed in the support he gained across various social media platforms.
He always appeared mature and well spoken; even for his relatively young age he maintained a son-in-law image over the years.
That was also the image that you had in mind since you were introduced to him in the Euros 2020. Back then your career didn't start yet and except for a few modeling jobs in your home town you were pretty much a nobody. But that changed drastically.
After your first few national wide campaigns you were soon discovered and ended up in the fashion capitals on the runway and as a brand ambassador for various luxury brands - it all worked out.
You’ve taken the fashion industry by storm and are now a very recognizable name. And that‘s exactly how you ended up here - in the grand stands of the football match between Norway and England invited by Adidas. And thats when you saw a certain someone warming up on the field.
Since you had to be in Miami for a shoot with a clothing brand anyways you decided this was a good opportunity for a little break. Though, you would be lying if you claimed this as the only reason. A very amusing video featuring England’s superstar going viral right now certainly aroused your interest as well.
★
„So Jude, continue, what‘s the next essential in your bag?“ the girl from British Vogue behind the camera said after he took the first few items out of his Luis Vuitton bag. He shot a quick smile into the camera and then continued with the YouTube video.
„So for the next item I picked this moisturizer. Cause I‘ve got quite dry skin so it’s really nice to just have this on me whereever I go.“ he paused for a little showing the tube into the camera.
„I‘ve also heard they‘ve got a new ambassador right?“
„Oh yeah that’s right.“ the voice from the faceless girl could be heard again, mentioning your name.
„ She actually signed about three new brand deals this year, quite impressive if you ask me.“
„Three? Thats actually crazy work. But with that face...“ the last part came out a little quieter and less directed at the camera. As if the statement was only meant to be heard by him, followed by a subtle blush on his cheeks.
That's right when the clip segment ended and the video was cut to Jude showing the next essential of him. And if you weren't paying much attention to the video either you wouldn't have noticed it any further.
But the internet did. And within the first hour the video was online the moment got clipped; uploaded hundreds of times on Tik Tok and Instagram and instantly got viral.
The comments reached from jealousy and shipping you two to even people suggesting you're already dating in private. And after a few days of circulating online, the whirlwind surrounding it reached you.
In the middle of a shoot, which was only meant to be a quick Tik Tok break, turned into a deep dive into the Englishman and all of the attention disrupting his normally well collected appearance online.
Football wasn't the usual content appearing on your for-you page either but seeing your name in the hashtag made you curious. So you stayed. And you were glad you did.
So after a well spent amount of time online you were all filled in on this little crush regarding Englands matchmaker. It was safe to say that this also might have been a reason why you showed up at the match in the end.
★
a/n: this lowkey screams for a part two (in the making)
(I do not own any characters/ pictures except for the oc in this story)
⊹ 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀. jude bellingham could handle thousands of fans, ninety minutes on the pitch, and the pressure of a big match. but a quiet night at home with his girlfriend and nothing to do? apparently, that was where his real challenges began.
⊹ 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀. boyfriend!jude bellingham, fluff, humor, bored couple activities, slice of life, established relationship, idiots in love, jude bellingham being a manace, playful banter, domestic chaos, teasing, kissing, just two people being stupid together, lots of laughter, jude bellingham is terrible at hiding.
the problem with quiet nights was that eventually, they became too quiet. not the peaceful kind of quiet.
the kind where both people were comfortable enough to do absolutely nothing, but somehow still managed to be bored out of their minds.
the movie had ended nearly twenty minutes ago, the credits had long disappeared from the screen, and the empty bowls from dinner were still abandoned on the coffee table because neither of them had the energy to get up and move them.
jude was lying beside her, one arm tucked behind his head, casually scrolling through his phone like he hadn’t been staring at the same few apps for the last ten minutes. she knew because she’d been watching him do absolutely nothing while claiming he was “relaxing.”
she, on the other hand, was staring at the ceiling, silently searching for something—anything—that could save them from another hour of sitting in comfortable boredom. they had already watched two movies, spent far too much money on food they definitely didn’t need, and wasted at least forty minutes arguing over what to watch next.
somehow, she had gotten her way. a tragedy jude had been silently mourning ever since the opening scene.
“i still think my choice would’ve been better.” he announced, finally tearing his eyes away from his phone to stare at the blank TV screen like he was still personally offended by the movie.
she slowly turned her head towards him, raising an eyebrow. for a moment, she just stared at him, waiting for him to realize how ridiculous he sounded.
“jude,” she said, pressing her lips together to stop herself from laughing. “you spent the entire movie complaining.”
he stared at her in disbelief, giving her leg a light nudge with his foot, like the tiny gesture alone was enough to defend himself.
“i did not,” he insisted, his voice carrying the kind of offense usually reserved for much bigger accusations.
she let out a small laugh, shaking her head as she turned towards him. “you sighed every five minutes.”
he opened his mouth to argue, but she continued before he could. “not even subtle ones either. full dramatic sighs.”
the corner of his mouth twitched, already knowing she wasn’t finished.
“you said the plot made no sense,” she said, far too pleased with herself, leaning back against the sofa like she had just presented undeniable evidence. “you paused the movie to ask me how much longer was left.”
before he could defend himself, she stretched her leg out and gently tapped his with hers, the satisfied smile on her face making it obvious she knew she had him.
“hey,” he protested, looking down at where she’d bumped him, then smoothly right back at her.
“what?” she blinked at him, putting on the most innocent expression she could manage, even though the smile threatening to appear gave her away.
jude narrowed his eyes.
“did you just kick me?” he glanced down at where her foot was still resting against his leg, looking genuinely betrayed.
“you’re a professional footballer, jude. surely you can handle a tiny kick.”
for a second, he just looked at her.
then the corner of his mouth lifted, that familiar smug little smile appearing like he’d suddenly found a way to win the argument after all.
“i can handle a lot more than that for you, baby.” he said, his voice dropping into a teasing murmur, far too confident for someone who had just been complaining about a harmless kick.
“are you seriously trying to flirt your way out of losing an argument?” she asked, her voice laced with amusement, a smile tugging at her lips as she watched him.
jude didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed.
“maybe,” he simply smiled, reaching over to steal a piece of popcorn from the bowl between them like he hadn’t just been caught trying to charm his way out of losing.
the argument was over. well… as over as anything could be with jude. he never actually admitted she was right, and she knew better than to expect him to, but eventually they both decided the movie debate had gone on long enough.
so they moved on. by doing absolutely nothing.
he went back to scrolling through his phone, occasionally showing her random videos he found funny. she pretended not to care, then laughed at almost every single one. he stole some of her snacks. she stole them back. he complained like she had committed a serious crime despite the fact that he was the one who started it.
somehow, this became their activity for the next fifteen minutes. which would’ve been fine… if they weren’t still bored.
she looked around the living room, then at him, then back at the living room… then back at him.
she shifted closer to him, closing the small space between them until she was tucked against his side, mostly because she had run out of ideas and partly because being bored was easier when she was annoying him.
“why are you doing that?” jude’s eyes left his phone, narrowing slightly as he looked down at her.
“doing what?” she blinked.
“that.” he gave her a look, the kind that said he already knew she was planning something.
she glanced down at herself, pretending to be confused. “i’m sitting next to you.”
“no,” he said, setting his phone down. “you’re plotting.”
“i’m not plotting.” a laugh almost escaped her.
he looked down at her, his expression changing slightly — not surprised, just amused, like he already knew she was lying. “careful.”
“what?” she looked up at him.
jude’s mouth twitched as he watched her, already suspicious. he set his phone down beside him and tilted his head slightly. “you’re either about to ask me for something or start trouble.”
she smiled, completely caught but not even trying to deny it. “maybe both.”
“i knew it.” his lips curved into a small smile as he looked away, like he was trying not to encourage her. then he shifted slightly beside her, turning his body more towards her as he waited, already knowing she was about to suggest something.
“jude,” she whined, letting her head fall back against the sofa. “we need to do something. we’ve officially reached the point where we’re bored of being bored.”
he didn’t answer immediately but his attention was fully on her now. his phone had been long forgotten somewhere on the sofa, abandoned the second he realized she was definitely up to something.
she turned her head towards him.
“jude.”
he looked at her, already knowing from her tone that she wasn’t going to let this go. “i heard you.”
she waited a second, then shifted closer, eventually resting her head against his shoulder as she waited for his answer.
“and?” she asked patiently.
jude looked down at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. he shifted slightly on the sofa, getting more comfortable as if he genuinely needed time to consider the most important decision of the night. “i’m thinking.”
she stayed quiet for a moment, her head still resting against his shoulder, waiting for his so-called “thinking” to lead somewhere. the silence stretched. she looked up at him.
“are you actually thinking, or are you just sitting there looking like you are?” she asked, watching his overly serious expression for a moment before a laugh threatened to escape. the way he looked so focused made it almost impossible not to laugh.
then his expression turned offended.
“wow,” he lightly squeezed her cheek between his fingers, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “the disrespect.”
“you’re so dramatic.” she let out a small laugh, turning her face slightly away from his hand.
“i’m hurt.”
“you’ll survive.”
“barely.”
she rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.
then she went quiet. not bored quiet. thinking quiet. jude noticed.
“why do i feel like that silence means trouble?”
her smile grew wider as the idea fully formed. she lifted her head from his shoulder, turning towards him with sudden excitement.
“i have an idea.” her eyes lit up as she brought her hands together in a quick clap. “hear me out.”
his eyes immediately narrowed. he knew that tone. the last time she had said “hear me out,” it had never been followed by anything normal.
“i don’t like where this is going.” he said, though the small smile on his face betrayed him.
she ignored him, a grin spreading across her face as she pushed herself up from the sofa.
“hide and seek.” she said it like she had just come up with the greatest idea in history.
“…hide and seek?” jude stared at her. for a moment, he genuinely looked like he was waiting for the rest of the sentence.
she nodded, completely serious. he blinked, glancing around the room before looking back at her.
“you’re serious,” the small smile on his face gave away that he wasn’t actually against it—he was just trying to understand how they had gone from being bored on the sofa to this. “we’re really doing this?”
“yes, go hide.”
he stayed exactly where he was on the sofa, staring up at her like he was waiting for her to reveal that this was a joke.
“that’s it?”
“that’s it.” she looked back at him, confused by his confusion.
“you’re not even going to explain the rules?”
“jude, it’s hide and seek. i think you’ll manage.” she gave him a shrug.
a slow, confident grin spread across his face as he finally pushed himself off the sofa. he straightened to his full height, looking down at her like he’d just accepted the challenge of a lifetime.
“don’t come crying to me when you can’t find me,” he said, his voice full of mock confidence. “you clearly underestimate my hiding abilities.”
“please,” she said with a quiet laugh, waving a dismissive hand. “i bet i could find you in under a minute.”
“you really think i can’t hide?” he looked at her in complete disbelief, his eyebrows shooting up for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing.
“jude…” she looked him up and down, making a very obvious show of it before meeting his eyes again. “you’re six foot something.”
he frowned.
“six foot one,” he corrected, as if the extra precision somehow strengthened his case. he folded his arms, looking at her expectantly. “so?”
“and you think you’re gonna disappear?” she blinked.
he didn’t hesitate.
“yes,” he answered with effortless confidence, like the answer was painfully obvious. the corner of his mouth lifted into a smug smile as he shrugged one shoulder. “i fail to see how’s that relevant.”
she looked at him for a second. then another. trying—unsuccessfully—to keep a straight face.
“jude…” she shook her head, a laugh already escaping her. “because you’re built like a lamp post.”
the silence that followed lasted all of half a second. then she completely lost it. a burst of laughter escaped her as she bent forward, one hand flying to her stomach while the other reached for his arm to steady herself.
jude instinctively glanced down at himself, turning slightly as if checking whether she might somehow have a point.
“i’m not built like a lamp post.” he looked back at her with complete sincerity, sounding genuinely offended by the comparison.
“i can’t believe you actually checked.” she completely lost it. she managed between laughs, shaking her head.
she was still laughing when he looked at her for another second, clearly deciding that words weren’t going to win this argument. a small, determined smile tugged at his lips.
“right,” he muttered.
before she could say anything else, he turned on his heel and took off down the hallway. she stared after him, completely caught off guard. for a second, she just stood there, trying to process what had happened. then she blinked.
“did you just run away?”
a few seconds of silence followed. then his voice echoed from somewhere upstairs.
“you said hide!”
she pressed her lips together, already fighting another laugh.
“jude,” she called back, already knowing this was going to be a disaster. “you’re supposed to hide, not announce your escape!”
she shook her head, still smiling as she made her way upstairs, listening carefully. the confidence he had disappeared with was honestly impressive. he had spent the last five minutes insisting he had “hiding abilities,” and now she was about to find out if that was actually true. she walked slowly down the hallway, looking into each room. the house was quiet. too quiet.
“jude?”
no answer. she let out a quiet huff of amusement and continued down the hallway until she reached the bedroom. she pushed the door open slowly, peeking inside. nothing immediately caught her attention. she stepped in, looking around the room.
“okay,” she whispered, mostly to herself. “you’re really trying this time.”
a small movement near the window caught her attention. she stopped. slowly, she turned her head towards the curtain. she took a few steps closer, already trying to hold back a laugh. and then she saw it. jude was behind the curtain. or, more accurately, jude had attempted to be behind the curtain. because while the curtain was doing its best to hide the upper half of him, his legs were completely visible underneath.
she just stood there. looking at him. looking at his very obvious legs sticking out. then back at the curtain. she had to press her lips together to stop herself from laughing. the funniest part was that he wasn’t even moving. he was completely still, probably convinced that his plan was flawless. a six-foot-something professional footballer, hiding behind a curtain like he had just mastered the art of invisibility. she stared for another second.
“jude.”
silence.
“seriously?” she looked down at his legs again.
behind the curtain, he stayed perfectly still. which somehow made it even worse.
“your legs are out,” a laugh slipped from her lips. “like…really out.”
for a moment, she expected him to admit defeat. instead, his voice came from behind the curtain.
“they are not.” he was far too confident for someone whose hiding spot had already been exposed.
she rubbed a hand over her face, completely speechless, before glancing down again, just to make sure she wasn’t somehow imagining the very obvious pair of legs sticking out.
“your entire body is outside the curtain.” she slowly pointed at him.
she could practically hear him trying to come up with a response. he slowly looked down, as if he was only now checking whether she was telling the truth. his eyes landed on his very visible legs sticking out from underneath the curtain.
“…how unfortunate.” he said it with complete seriousness, like he had just discovered a major flaw in an otherwise perfect plan.
she burst into laughter. jude sighed, finally stepping out from behind the curtain with as much dignity as he could possibly recover. he straightened his shirt, acting like nothing embarrassing had happened.
“i was warming up.” he said it casually, with the kind of confidence that made it obvious he expected her to believe him.
she pinched the bridge of her nose, still trying to process the fact that he had just called standing behind a curtain “warming up.”
“you know warming up usually involves moving, right?” she blinked.
“i was mentally preparing.” he looked at her, completely unfazed, while scratching the back of his neck and glancing away briefly before meeting her eyes again.
“for what?
“the next round.”
before she could answer, he walked past her with a suspicious amount of confidence. she turned around, watching him with disbelief as he started walking away again. “you’re going again?”
“obviously.” he glanced back at her, like the answer was obvious.
“i found you under a minute.” she let out a small laugh.
there was a brief pause where he looked like he was deciding how to respond. then, with complete confidence:
“i was testing you. wanted to see how quickly you’d figure it out.”
“right,” she said slowly, clearly not believing a word of it. “round two, you have sixty seconds.”
“that’s not enough time.” he looked offended.
“maybe don’t choose a hiding spot where your legs introduce themselves first.” she shrugged, already amused.
jude clicked his tongue, folding his arms across his chest.
“the curtain let me down.” he sighed dramatically, sounding genuinely disappointed by its lack of cooperation.
“of course you’d blame the curtain.” she tilted her head, amusement clear on her face.
he looked like he was about to defend himself again, already preparing another explanation. she waved him off, trying not to laugh again. “go now, i’m counting.”
he opened his mouth, probably ready with another excuse, but she was already covering her eyes and facing the wall.
“one…”
the second she started counting, she heard his footsteps disappear down the hallway.
“two…”
a door opened somewhere nearby. she paused for half a second.
“three…” she raised an eyebrow.
the closet. or maybe the bathroom. then came a small thud. something had definitely fallen. let’s hope it wasn’t jude.
she bit back a laugh.
“please tell me that wasn’t you,” she whispered to herself, even though she already had a feeling it was.
“four…”
knowing him, he was probably standing completely still, hoping the noise would somehow disappear. there was silence. then she heard it. a quiet sound from somewhere in the house — like he was trying desperately not to laugh. she smiled, shaking her head as she continued counting.
“five…”
by the time she reached the end, she already had a feeling this round was going to be just as ridiculous as the first. she lowered her hand and turned around.
“ready or not…” she paused for a moment, letting the silence build. “here i come.”
she walked towards the open doorway, glancing down the hallway. she checked the bathroom first. nothing. she stepped inside for a second, looking around just to be sure. she paused, her eyes moving from the shower to the bathtub.
“okay, progress,” she muttered, almost impressed. “good. at least we’re not at the point where you’re hiding in the shower.”
she left the bathroom, glancing back down the hallway. it was quiet. then she noticed the guest room door. it was slightly closed. a smile tugged at her lips. that was suspicious. she walked towards the room, her steps quieter as she approached the door. she pushed it open slowly, looking around. the room was empty. no movement. no obvious signs of jude. no feet sticking out, no curtains involved, no disaster waiting to happen.
she had to give him that much—he had learned from his mistakes. she stayed quiet for a moment, letting herself believe he might have actually pulled it off. then she noticed the closet. the one place in the room that looked like it was trying very hard not to be noticed. it was closed. completely closed. suspiciously closed. she walked towards it, already smiling.
she reached for the handle. jude heard some movement, his confidence disappearing almost instantly.
silence.
she opened the closet door. he was standing completely still, hidden between the clothes, trying his best to blend in. for a second, neither of them said anything. then she raised an eyebrow.
a pair of broad shoulders were sticking out between the jackets, making absolutely no attempt to look like they belonged there. she stood there for a second, taking in the scene. the effort was there. the execution, unfortunately, was questionable.
“jude…”
“what?” his voice came from inside the closet, completely calm.
she glanced at the clothes surrounding him, then back at the very obvious person hiding between them.
“you’re not a jacket.” she blinked then burst out laughing, the sound warm and effortless.
his confidence faltered for the briefest moment. not because she had found him—he expected that eventually. but because she had insulted his entire strategy.
“i was going for the same idea.” he frowned, pushing the clothes away from his shoulders as if they were somehow responsible for the situation. he looked more offended by the clothes’ failure to hide him than the fact that she had found him.
“the idea was to blend in,” she gestured towards the clothes around him. “not become the largest item in the closet.”
“you’re literally the reason the jackets look small.” she paused, looking him up and down.
he shook his head, still trying to recover from the attack on his hiding skills.
“alright,” he stepped out of the closet, fixing his shirt and pretending he hadn’t just been exposed between her old jackets. “enough about my strategy.”
she opened her mouth.
“nope,” he said quickly, pointing at her before she could say anything else. a small grin appeared on his face.
“your turn to hide,” he walked past her towards the hallway, clearly enjoying the fact that the attention was finally off him. “let’s see how good you are.”
she followed him into the hallway, watching as he turned around and covered his eyes with one hand, leaning casually against the wall.
“you have one minute,” he announced, sounding far too confident for someone who had just been found hiding between jackets.
“don’t peek.” she smiled, already backing away.
he let out a quiet laugh. “relax. i’ll give you a chance.”
“a chance?”
“yeah,” he glanced back slightly—not enough to actually see her. “wouldn’t want to ruin the fun.”
the second he started counting, she slipped away quietly.
“one…”
she walked quickly down the hallway, keeping her steps light.
“two…”
she reached their bedroom and pushed the door open carefully, making sure it didn’t make a sound.
“three…”
she glanced around the room, considering her options. the closet was too obvious. behind the curtains would be too predictable. and after his first attempt, she wasn’t about to make the same mistake. her attention dropped to the space beneath the bed.
perfect.
she crouched down and slowly lowered herself onto the floor, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous this felt. once she was underneath, she pulled herself farther back, settling into the shadows. she covered her mouth, holding back a laugh as she imagined jude walking around the house with all the confidence of someone who had definitely forgotten he had been defeated twice already.
“forty-four…”
his voice echoed faintly from the hallway. she stayed completely still. this time, she was winning.
fifteen minutes later, he was still searching. and somehow…
he still hadn’t found her. at this point, he wasn’t even looking for her anymore. he was looking for an explanation. he stood in the hallway, hands on his hips, completely confused.
“okay…” he looked around the empty rooms. “this is getting ridiculous.”
from beneath the bed, she had to bite down on her lip. she could hear the frustration in his footsteps as he walked around the room again.
“i know you’re somewhere,” he called out, his voice echoing through the bedroom.
a few seconds passed. nothing. jude waited. still nothing. his patience started wearing thin. he let out a quiet sigh, running a hand through his hair as he looked around the room again.
“baby…” his voice softened, but there was still a hint of defeat in it. “please, come out now.”
“i’m starting to think you’re not even hiding anymore,” he called out, his voice carrying through the room. “i think you’ve moved out. i miss you.”
she nearly laughed. she was enjoying this. it was almost impressive how quickly he had gone from “i’ll find you in seconds” to acting like she had vanished from the entire house. fifteen minutes ago, he was confident. now he was negotiating with silence.
she couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“jude…” her voice was quiet, but it was enough.
the second his name left her lips, the room went silent. a pause.
then—
“aha,” his voice changed instantly. the frustration disappeared, replaced by pure victory. “i knew it.”
she immediately regretted giving herself away.
“wait—”
before she could move, he dropped down beside the bed.
“found you.”
she tried to pull herself farther back, but it was too late. his hand reached under the bed and caught her ankle gently.
“jude!”
“nope,” he laughed, carefully pulling her out as she tried to hold onto the edge of the bed. “you actually thought you were going to win?”
with one last pull, jude slid her completely out from under the bed. she dissolved into laughter, sprawled across the floor while he looked far too pleased with himself.
“fifteen minutes,” he said proudly. “but i got you.”
“you begged me to come out.” she shook her head.
“that was a strategy.” his smile faltered for a second.
for a second, she just stayed there, lying on her back, looking up at him. he stood above her with the most satisfied expression she had seen all night. she barely had time to take a step before his hands caught her around the waist, stopping her.
“hey, jude—”
he laughed as she protested, lifting her just enough to make her lose her balance before gently dropping her onto the bed. she landed with a soft bounce, breathless with laughter, looking up at him as though she couldn’t quite believe he’d actually followed through. before she could sit up, he leaned over her, trapping her beneath him with a grin that screamed victory.
“next round is on the bed,” he announced confidently. “you know i’m winning this, baby.”
she shook her head, completely entertained by the confidence he had somehow regained. then she dropped her head back against the pillow, trying to understand how he had turned a simple game into such a big event. he leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, gentle and quick, like he was celebrating his very important victory. when he pulled back, he still had that satisfied look on his face.
“we’re having a rematch tomorrow.” she pushed herself up onto her elbows, the smile still lingering on her face as she watched him.
jude let out a quiet laugh, clearly amused by how determined she was.
“shhh,” he lifted a finger to his lips, silencing her before she could start planning the rematch already forming in her head. “we have a long night ahead.”
he reached for her and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek as he enjoyed the moment. she took advantage of his distraction, tugging him closer and stealing a quick kiss that left him momentarily speechless. he didn’t let her pull away so easily, chasing after her lips for another kiss. when they finally broke apart, her lips traced a playful path to his cheek, leaving a soft peck there before she leaned closer to his ear.
“still counts as a win for me.” she whispered, the quiet triumph in her voice making him chucke softly.
“enjoy your victory, baby,” he whispered back, a quiet challenge in his voice. “i’ll have mine soon enough.”
she settled back against the bed, watching him with an amused expression as he carried himself like he had just won a championship—which he hadn’t.
but she wouldn’t trade it for anything. not the teasing. not the ridiculous competition. not the way they could spend hours doing absolutely nothing and still feel like time moved too quickly.
because with jude, even the most ordinary days had a way of becoming unforgettable.
Can you please write fluff on the “i forgot to pay the rent” trend on Jude Bellingham?
RENT DUE - ju. bellingham
inwhich! you try the “i forgot to pay the rent” trend on jude, knowing that you’ve never paid rent, touched any bills, or paid for outings whenever you’re with jude.
frannytalks! jude was kind of annoying me during vs. dr congo just now 😪😪 but i hope you like thisss, i tried my best, i think this is the trend you were talking about? i’m sorry if it’s not, i couldn’t find any in my native language for reference! don’t forget to join my taglist(s) here!
jude was sitting at the kitchen island answering messages when you saw the trend on your phone. you curled your legs beneath yourself on the couch as a grin slowly spread across your face.
immediately, you knew he was the perfect victim. you looked over toward him mischievously, you already knew exactly how this would end, because despite living together, jude had never once let you pay for anything.
the first time you’d offered, jude had looked genuinely offended. he stood in the living room holding his wallet while staring at you in disbelief.
“why would you pay rent?” he asked as though you’d suggested selling the furniture.
the second time, he transferred the money back into your account before you’d even finished talking. he sat beside you with the most stubborn expression imaginable.
the third time, he’d kissed your forehead and said, “absolutely not, sweetheart, nice try though.”
you casually propped your phone against the fruit bowl. you adjusted the angle to make sure jude wasn’t suspicious.
he remained completely unaware. he hummed softly while pouring coffee into two mugs.
“jude?” you spoke carefully, trying not to laugh.
he turned around immediately. his expression softened the second he heard your voice, “yeah, love?” he carried the mugs toward the island.
you swallowed and forced yourself to stay serious, “i need to tell you something.” you folded your hands together dramatically.
jude put both mugs down, his smile disappeared immediately, “what happened?” he asked quietly.
“i forgot to pay the rent this month.” you looked down at the counter.
his eyebrows knitted together, he stared at you, “what rent?” he asked slowly.
you kept your expression serious, your fingernails dug into your palm to stop yourself from laughing, “our rent.” you answered back softly.
jude looked at the ceiling, he seemed to be replaying several years of memories of you not paying the rent, or anything at all.
“baby.” he spoke with patience in his voice.
you nodded slowly, giving him puppy eyes.
“you don’t pay rent.” he said carefully.
you shrugged, “i know, but i forgot this month.” you replied.
the coffee in his hand stopped halfway to his mouth. his lips parted slightly, “forgot?” he repeated.
you nodded again, “to pay?” he continued.
then, it finally hit jude and he let out a loud laugh, “what are you talking about?” he managed between laughs.
you tried maintaining character, “i’ll make it up next month.” you said seriously.
jude bent forward, he covered his face with one hand,“next month?” he repeated.
you nodded and he looked at you like you were the most ridiculous person alive. his eyes crinkled at the corners.
“with whose money?” he asked.
you opened your mouth, then stopped midway, nothing coming out.
jude laughed again, he shook his head in disbelief, “you have lived with me for over a year.” he pointed at you.
you remained silent, still trying your hardest not to laugh or even smile.
“you’ve contributed exactly zero pounds toward rent.” he smiled.
you gasped dramatically, “that’s not true.” you defended yourself.
jude folded his arms, a growing smirk spreading across his face, “oh?” he challenged.
“i bring emotional support.” you answered immediately, “a lot.”
“yeah, that’s true.” he nodded thoughtfully, “and apparently financial stress too.” he added, joking.
you burst into laughter at the last comment, jude squinted his eyes immediately, curious about your odd behavior.
“wait.” he glanced around the kitchen, then his gaze landed on the phone.
“are you recording me?” he pointed accusingly.
you couldn’t breathe from laughing, trying to grab the phone before he did. jude walked over and grabbed the it before you could.
“you’re evil.” he shook his head dramatically.
“it’s a trend!” you defended yourself, throwing your hands up, “you looked so concerned.” you giggled.
“because you said you needed to tell me something!” he protested, crossing his arms.
his expression softened almost immediately. the annoyance lasted two seconds. then, a he stepped between your knees and wrapped both arms around your waist, his forehead rested against yours.
“for the record,” he spoke quietly, “if you ever actually tried paying rent, i’d send the money straight back.”
you smiled, rolling your eyes slightly, “why?” you asked.
“because i take care of you.” he shrugged lightly, his hands squeezed your sides. “your responsibilities are being funny, stealing my clothes, and enjoying life with no worries.” he counted on his fingers.
you laughed softly, “that’s a full-time job.” you argued.
“exactly.” he kissed your forehead, “your money is your money, my money is our money.”
your grin widened, “fine, fine,” you narrowed your eyes at him, “can i have a kiss?” you asked, looking up, pouting.
he immediately placed a kiss on your lips, “how could i say no to you, princess?” jude said, holding your head in his hands.
after your 4 year relationship breakup, you release an album causing jude to confront you on what he did wrong.
taglist: jude bellingham x singer!reader, exes, angst, social media au, heartbreak, emotional distance, miscommunication, fame, slow burn, no cheating, lowercase.
a.n: THERE WILL BE A PART THREE
previous, next
all he could hear was her voice as he sat in his car.
“i wasn’t unhappy.”
“i was in love.”
“and i was lonely.”
he’d spent five months convincing himself the breakup had been nobody’s fault. now he wasn’t so sure.
the album broke every streaming record by morning. every song of yours was trending, every lyric being analysed and every interview reposted. people picked sides without even trying.
some defended you while some defended him. most just wanted drama.
jude ignored all of it.
until he saw one clip.
it was old, three years old to be exact.
you were both seen walking out of an awards show together when the interviewer had stopped them.
“how do you two make long distance work?”
y/n smiled immediately. “we make time for each other.”
jude laughed. “she makes time. i just turn up.”
everyone had laughed.
back then it sounded cute.
now he watched her face after she’d laughed. she’d looked at him for a split second. the smile had dropped before she’d forced it back and he’d never noticed.
—
he ended up back at his apartment. and instead of sleeping he opened an old box he’d shoved into the back of his wardrobe after the breakup.
there were photos, letters, boarding passes and little notes you had left in his suitcase.
“don’t forget to eat today.”
“good luck, i’m already proud of you.”
“call me when you land. don’t text. call.”
he smiled despite himself and then another note slipped out.
he almost missed it. it was folded in half.
his name scribbled across the front.
he frowned. he didn’t remember this one.
opening it slowly, he recognised your handwriting immediately.
“i miss you.
i know you’re busy.
i know football comes first right now.
i just miss being your favourite part of the day.
ignore this if i’m being dramatic.
i love you.”
you’d never given it to him.
you’d written it then decided against it.
—
the next afternoon he woke up the the sound of pings from his phone. his head was a throbbing mess and his bed had your notes scattered all over it.
trent
you alright?
he ignored it and then another buzz.
trent
mate?
finally with a small huff he typed a response.
jude
did i neglect her?
three dots appeared almost instantly, disappeared and appeared again.
trent
that’s… a heavy question.
jude
answer it.
trent
i don’t think you meant to.
but i do think football always came first.
jude stared at the screen.
trent
before you get defensive, listen.
every time we’d ask if you were free, your answer depended on training.
every holiday depended on fixtures and every dinner depended on recovery.
that’s your job but eventually… your relationship started depending on football too.
jude locked his phone.
he suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore.
@popcrave
🚨 | y/n l/n speaks on the inspiration behind you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love.
♡ 1.8m likes ↻ 276k reposts 💬 91k quotes
interviewer: “people have obviously connected the album to your breakup with jude. did you expect that?”
y/n: i expected people to relate to it.
interviewer: “not… assume it’s about him?”
y/n: “people are going to believe whatever they want.” [you fidget with your fingers]
interviewer: “have you spoken since the album came out?”
y/n: “…”
y/n: “a little.” [tears welling up as you smile]
interviewer: “do you hope he listens to it?”
y/n: “i hope he actually hears it.”
top replies
@ynnation: “i hope he actually hears it.” OH THAT HURT.
@popculture: she looks so upset here!! who gave the interviewer the microphone?? they were clearly too comfortable.
-> @supercoolmee: fr!!
@footballdaily: jude i’m praying for you brother.
@liviesclub: can we focus on her beautiful voice not the problem! her album is amazing! i wish she would go into depth about the instruments she used 🫧
@judesleftboot: i feel sick.
@ynupdates: “a little.” THEY’VE SPOKEN???
@realmadridclips: the fact that she looks like she’s on the verge of crying shows she misses him.. oh god jude please take her back
jude didn’t realise he’d started crying until something warm landed on the back of his hand. he wiped his face immediately, annoyed with himself because this wasn’t fair.
he’d loved her. so fucking much,
every birthday. every anniversary. every match she’d flown across europe to watch. every random bouquet he’d sent because she’d had a bad day.
he’d loved her. so why did every interview make him feel like he’d imagined the whole relationship?
he reached for his phone again, opened their old messages and he searched one word.
“miss.”
hundreds appeared, mainly from you.
y/n: miss you already.
y/n: i miss you.
y/n: wish you were here.
y/n: i know you’re tired but i miss talking to you.
he replied to nearly every one.
miss you too.
soon ❤️
after training.
can’t wait to see you.
he frowned, then searched another word. “okay.”
y/n: i’m okay.
y/n: it’s okay.
y/n: don’t worry about it, i’m okay.
he opened one from almost two years ago.
y/n: it’s okay, we can celebrate our anniversary next week instead.
his reply had came four hours later.
jude: thank you baby. promise i’ll make it up to you.
she’d reacted with a white heart.
he scrolled.
another.
y/n: it’s okay. enjoy the team dinner.
another.
y/n: it’s okay. i’ll go with my sister instead.
another.
y/n: it’s okay. don’t apologise again.
he stared at the screen.
every single it’s okay suddenly felt not okay.
his phone buzzed.
an unknown number.
yet he already knew who it was.
unknown: hi.
it was you.
he’d deleted your contact after the breakup. not your number, just your name.
another message came through.
unknown: you don’t have to reply but i wanted to apologise.
his eyebrows pulled together.
unknown: i never wanted people to hate you.
he read it twice. then typed, deleted it and typed again.
jude: is that really all you wanted to say?
the typing bubble appeared, stopped and appeared again.
y/n: …no.
jude: then what?
this time she took almost five minutes. when the message finally came through, it was only one sentence.
y/n: you still think the album was about making people hate you. it never was.
he looked at the screen for a long time before slowly typing the first completely honest thing he’d said in months.
jude: then tell me what it was about.
he saw the three dots appeared almost instantly but then disappeared.
Can you do a Jude x reader where they dated for 4 years and then broke up leading to 5 months later reader releasing an album called “you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love” (inspired by oliva Rodrigo’s new album!!) causing a bunch of hate to be sent Jude’s way assuming he made her miserable and he confronts her about it leading to a fight you can give it any ending u want queen !
always answered but never heard
jude bellingham x ex!singer!reader
after your 4 year relationship breakup, you release an album causing jude to confront you on what he did wrong.
a.n: if someone requests part two i’ll make it!
next
@ynln just posted!
i’ve been writing this one for a while. i hope the people who need it find it. coming out aug 29 🫧🫧
♡ 2.1m likes 💬 318k comments
comments
@ ynupdates: oh she’s about to ruin a man’s life.
@ ynnation: jude bellingham count your days 😭
@ footballclips: brother’s instagram comments are FINISHED.
@ popculturedaily: “for a girl so in love” ????????
@ liviesclub: that title hurts already.
@ realmadridfan: can we maybe hear the album before deciding he’s evil?
—> @ ynstan: no ❤️
@ judesleftboot: this is going to be the biggest album of the year.
@ ynlover: four years together… she definitely has stories.
@ futboledits: praying for jude’s pr team.
five months. it had been five months since the breakup. five months since the carefully written statement that had fooled absolutely no one.
“after four wonderful years together, we have decided to go our separate ways. there is nothing but love and respect between us…”
people believed it for maybe three hours and then came the theories and then the edits.
then finally the speculation.
but eventually everyone got bored and moved on. until now.
one album announcement had undone every bit of peace either of them had managed to find.
@popbase just posted!
🚨 | y/n l/n announces her third studio album, you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love, releasing august 29.
jude opened instagram after training and the comments under his latest post read,
“what did you do to her?”
“streaming the album out of spite.”
“justice for y/n.”
he locked his phone with a confused look on his face, he hadn’t even heard a single song yet.
jude couldn’t escape it. well none of it mattered anyway because the album hadn’t even come out yet.
@ynln just posted!
out now! stream ‘you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love’ now 🏩🌷
♡ 3.9m likes 💬 comments have been disabled
jude learnt from another that your songs were about waiting. about eating dinner alone, about falling asleep on facetime because someone promised they’d call after training and about pretending you didn’t mind cancelling anniversary plans because “the season’s almost over.”
everyone immediately decided they knew who it was about cause there was no one else you had loved so deeply, dating jude for 4 years.
football pages posted lyric edits to clips of you smiling in the stands at his matches while fan accounts compared old interviews to the lyrics.
he wasn’t going to listen is what he told himself that at breakfast and again in the car and again during recovery.
which is why he was lying in bed with headphones on. every song reopened something he had buried deep in his heart.
there were songs about airports. songs about hotels. songs about waving goodbye through tinted car windows.
and songs about pretending she wasn’t lonely because everyone thought dating him must be perfect.
then came track seven.
“heard the words, never heard me.”
he frowned. the chorus repeated one line.
you always answered me. you just never listened.
he replayed it once. then twice what the hell did that even mean?
jude didn’t even realise he’d grabbed his keys until he was halfway to her apartment
—
the knock came just after eight.
you already knew who it was.
through the peephole, you could see a familiar figure. it was jude, his jaw clenched, with a hood pulled over his head.
you sighed before opening the door. “what?”
“can i come in?”
“no.”
he looked at you. “please.”
you hesitated. “…five minutes.”
he walked inside, taking in the apartment he once viewed as a second home. the apartment looked different. there were less pictures, more records and a piano sat in the corner.
he looked around before facing you. “everyone thinks i’m some horrible boyfriend. i can’t post a picture without thousands of comments asking what i did to you. reporters keep asking me about your songs and my own supporters think i ruined your life.”
his voice got quieter. “…and i don’t even know what i supposedly did.”
you looked at him, really looked at him before saying “…you think that’s what the album’s about?”
“what else would it be about?”
yoi let out a short laugh, almost disappointed.“wow.”
his jaw tightened. “don’t.”
“don’t what?”
“don’t laugh.”
“i’m not laughing because it’s funny.” she rubbed her forehead. “i’m laughing because after all this…”
she gestured between them. “…you still don’t get it.”
“then tell me.”
“i did.”
“when?”
“for four years.”
he frowned. “what are you talking about?”
you looked at him like ypu couldn’t believe he was asking. “every time i told you i missed you. every time i asked if you’d be home. every time i asked you to put your phone down. every time i said i felt alone.” you stepped closer.“you always answered. ‘i’m sorry.’ ‘next week.’ i promise.’” you smiled sadly before your voice dropped. “you always answered me.. you just never listened.”
jude stared at her. “i… listened.”
“no.”
“i did.”
“you heard me.” she corrected softly. “that’s different.”
he shook his head. “i was trying.”
“i know.”
“everything i did was for us.”
“i know.”
“i was building a future.”
“i know.”
every answer somehow made him more frustrated. “then why write an album making me look like the bad guy?”
your expression changed instantly. “that’s what you think this is?”
“look at the internet. they’re calling me manipulative.”
“jude.”
“they’re saying i never loved you.”
“jude.”
“they’re saying-”
“jude!”
he stopped and the apartment fell silent.
you looked at him, eyes glassy. “why…” your voice cracked. “…why are you more upset about strangers misunderstanding our relationship than the fact your girlfriend was lonely enough to write twelve songs about it?”
the words landed like a punch. he opened his mouth but nothing came out.
because you had called yourself his girlfriend. not ex. just his girlfriend. like some part of you still hadn’t caught up.
you realised it a second later, looked away, qnd muttered “…sorry.”
he barely heard you because his mind was stuck on one thing.
“lonely enough to write twelve songs.”
he swallowed. “…were you really that unhappy?”
you looked back at him. there wasn’t anger anymore. just exhaustion. “that’s the thing.” you whispered. “i wasn’t unhappy.”
he frowned.
“i was in love. …and i was lonely.” you let the words settle between them. “those two things can exist at the same time.”
jude had absolutely nothing to say because all this time he’d been trying to figure out what he’d done when really he should’ve been asking what you had been feeling.
5 moments that made me realize i hate love you - jude bellingham
Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Fem!Reader, frenemies to lovers
WC: 2.4K
Warnings: Nothing major!
Summary: You and Jude have tolerated each other to a point, always telling yourself you would never fall for him because you somehow despise him, but 5 moments you two share change that thought.
NUMBER ONE: The ''friendly'' football match.
If someone were to ask you what your connection with Jude was like, you would probably say it was complicated.
One moment you both were getting along and the next you two were going against each other like two animals who couldn't stand to lose.
Everyone assumed you and Jude hated each other, there was no doubt about that.
The Bellinghams had known your family for years, so every barbecue, birthday party, and holiday always ended up being celebrated with you. Plus you and Jude trying to one-up each other.
Whether it was table tennis, Mario Kart, or racing to the end of the garden, it was clear neither of you would be caught dead than losing.
One summer evening, your family and Jude's were in the garden laughing and discussing about the latest football news.
Someone suggested a friendly football match.
Knowing how out of the two of you, Jude was better than football but you couldn't admit that.. and you didn't want to seem like a party pooper or weak so you accepted the challenge.
Nothing about the mini game was friendly. As soon as Jude started with the ball, his eyes sparked with competitiveness.
You stole the ball from Jude once.
Twice.
Then, established to make a fool out of him, you attempted some ridiculous move you'd seen all over your feed which made you look like the fool instead of Jude.
You slipped and braced yourself for impact, knowing there was nothing you could do to stop yourself from falling.
You never made contact with the ground.
Jude had caught you before you could slam yourself into the grass.
For a second, none of you moved as his arms were tightly wrapped around you.
''You alright?'' He asked, far quieter than you'd expected.
''Oh my gosh, Bellingham- get off me.''
You shoved him away immediately, getting up back on your feet and dusting off any grass on your clothes.
''I would've landed that. I didn't need you as my savior.''
You scoffed and walked away to the outside table with all of the drinks and snacks, deciding to keep your distance way from Jude for the rest of the night.
Later that night, Jobe leaned over while everyone was packing up and helping clean the outside area. ''You know he let you score that last goal, right?''
You frowned. ''No, he didn't.''
''He was telling me all about. Dude, he was mad about folding in so quickly but was feeling nice apparently.'' Jobe shrugged, walking back into the house.
You look across the garden where Jude was helping put the goals away.
He caught your eye and you both had a small moment of eye contact till you shook your head. Jude smirked and looked away.
Gosh, how you hated his guts.
NUMBER TWO: Remembering everything from drinks to books.
It was the littlest things he would remember. You swore to yourself that he wouldn't remember anything you disclosed less than 3 times.
But you were wrong.
You mentioned it once. Months ago. That caramel coffee was too sweet for your liking and you preferred iced tea like chai or peppermint.
The next time Jude's family and yours stopped at a cafe after a match of Jude's, he ordered before you which ticked you off.
But that time, you didn't want anything so you went and sat down at a vacant table, scrolling on Instagram.
''One iced chai latte, please. Don't add any caramel.'' He said, looking back at you while you were on your phone as you were completely oblivious to what he was ordering.
Moments later, he walked up to your table and slid the plastic cup towards you. ''You said you liked tea better than those sweet caramel coffees, right?''
Looking up away from your phone to look up at Jude, you blinked.
''I told you that once, Jude. Months ago.''
''You've actually told me three times.''
''You're actually annoying, God.''
''So I've heard countless amount of times from you.''
Then there was your birthday. You thought he forgot because c'mon, it was Jude. You knew that he wasn't going to get you anything because while Jobe, Denise, and Mark showed up with tons of gifts in their hands, Jude only showed up with his training bag.
You tried to let the thought not haunt you or make you upset but it made you mad that not even did he care and you two basically grew up with each other.
So, throughout your party you faked a smile.
Till it came time to open presents when your fake one had turned into something real.
Besides the expensive presents everyone came through the door with, Jude handed you a small paper bag.
Inside was the exact book you've been spending months looking for, nearly going above and beyond in your actions, doing anything you could for it.
''I remember you complaining about it.''
You stared at him.
''You... remembered that?''
He shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. ''Stop focusing on that and start focusing on the fact you have the book you would go to war for in your hands.''
Of course he remembered.
He always did.
NUMBER THREE: The missed train and the bonding made out of that.
Jobe had insisted everyone should meet in London to celebrate that Jude finally had a weekend off from training and matches.
Somehow, after wandering through bookstores and cafes, you and Jude got separated from everyone else.
Then you both missed the train.
''Perfect,'' you sighed. ''My mum's gonna kill me.''
Jude rolled his eyes, going over to the departure board. ''Next one's in twenty-five.''
''What makes you think we have twenty-five minutes, Jude! They're gonna be.. frantic that we aren't there with them!''
You groaned dramatically.
He laughed at you, secretly admiring the way you looked when frustrated and caring. ''Come on, you big baby.''
You ended up sitting on a beach with vending machine crisps and terrible hot chocolate that was heavily watered down.
''This hot chocolate is bloody horrible!'' You expressed, laughing.
''Even I can make a killer hot chocolate that's better than this.''
''I hate to tell you and admit it, Bellingham but I think you could definitely make better hot chocolate than this.''
''Nah, thinking about it now, I think I would make a Chai latte instead.'' Jude nudged you, a smile creeping up in his lips.
For the first time in years, you both actually talked. No teasing. No arguing. Just talking.
You pulled yourself together, teary-eyed after laughing till you felt abs forming in your stomach. ''Okay, if you had any superpower, what would it be.''
''I would have teleportation, isn't it cool?''
''Teleportation? Seriously? Jude, that's the most simplest answer!''
''It would help me get to practice faster on days I've overslept! What would you pick then? Breathing underwater?'' He scooted next to you.
You squinted while you pretended to pick although you had a specific power in mind already. ''I would pick.. telekinesis.''
''Telekinesis, what the hell is that?''
You two continued to share stories and silly moments that made your face sore because of the amount of times you were smiling.
When the train finally arrived, neither of you stood quickly.
You almost wished you had gone off track and missed the train again.
NUMBER FOUR: Eyes searching for you.
It was the week Jude had to play important games for Real Madrid
You've seen the way he was stressed all week. Accidentally lashing out at anyone who spoke to him about football, falling asleep mid conversation, his hands running over his face.
His behavior was making you anxious, hoping that the week would be full of victories.
It was the last game of the week and the club had won most of their games. You remembered Jude talking about how he really wanted to end the week winning.
The stadium erupted as the final whistle blew.
They'd won.
His teammates surrounded him, their mood filled with energy and smiles and cameras chased the team across the pitch while fans were screaming at different players and their names.
You stood with Denise, Mark, and Jobe in the family section, applauding with everyone else and plastering a big smile.
You expected Jude to keep on jumping up and down with the team and celebrating.
Instead, his head turned and it seemed like he was scanning and searching in every section possible until his eyes landed on you.
The smile you saw spread across his face wasn't for the fans, reporters, or cameras.
It was for you.
He pointed toward the stands then waved, you doing the same action back.
''He always looks for you, it isn't a secret.'' Jobe nudged your shoulder, pushing you out of your fantasy land.
Your heart stumbled a bit.
''No, he doesn't. Why would he look for someone he hates?''
''If he looks for you after a match.. maybe he doesn't hate you after all?''
You couldn't stop thinking about it and if Jobe was correct.
NUMBER FIVE: Confessing you both couldn't stop pretending anymore.
All football fans had their mind set on focusing on Real Madrid as final match of the Champions League was coming to an end.
The pressure was intense and you saw how stressed out Jude was. Accidentally lashing out at anyone who was talking to him about football, falling asleep during conversations, hands running over his face.
Every headline, interview, and predication was about Jude and the club.
You barely breathed for ninety minutes out of nervousness and anticipation.
Then you heard the finally whistle.
He did it. They did it. Victory.
The stadium exploded and confetti rained from above, covering seats of the stadium and its pitch.
Players screamed in glory and collapsed onto the grass in realization that they've won the Champions.
Families were invited onto the pitch. You made your way down with everyone else, trying not to get in anyone's way.
Jude was surrounded immediately.
He deserved every second of the celebrations and congratulations so you quietly slipped away toward the tunnel.
Shortly after you were walking, a voice called out from behind you.
''Hey!''
You turned to see a tired but happy Jude jogging after you, medal bouncing against his chest.
''You were leaving.''
''I didn't want to interrupt. You had your moment and I didn't wanna steal you away from the glory of it all.'' You chuckled, jamming your hands into the back pockets of your jeans.
He walked closer to you. ''You could never interrupt anything.''
You laughed and shook your head, looking down for a split second before looking back at Jude's eyes.
''I'll let your family have you-''
''They've had me all my life.'' He stopped walking and cut you off. ''But I've been wanting you.''
Silence filled your brain. You didn't know what to say or what to add on.
''I've been trying to figure out to tell you this for months- and I don't want to say the wrong thing with you.''
Your stomach flipped and you took out your hands out your pockets to fidget with them.
''Remember when everyone in the family told us we would argue like a an old married couple?
You laughed nervously, thinking about the countless amount of times your family would ship you and Jude together by saying that.
''I hated when they said that.''
''I didn't.''
Your smile slowly dispersed away from your face.
He rubbed the back of his neck, all of a sudden looking more nervous than he had ever looked in his career of football. ''I think I've loved you for a long time.. and I still do. I still love you and I haven't stopped.''
''Jude...''
''I know the timing's terrible.''
''Jude!''
''And I know you probably don't feel the same. I don't know exactly when it happened.'' He continued. ''But somewhere along the way, you became the first person I wanted to open myself up to and suddenly I didn't want to fight with you anymore- I understand i-''
You cut him off this time.
''Jude Bellingham! I've wanted you as much as you wanted me for- God knows for how long- I spent years and forever trying to convince myself I hated you but I never think I did and I think you never did either. The time we missed the train to London- I spent that day wishing we would've missed the next train we were trying to catch.''
Jude looked at you for a moment, almost like he was trying to memorize the fact that you had just confessed the same feelings he was going through.
''And I think I've loved you for longer than I've been willing to admit.'' You swallowed.
For years, the two of you had hidden behind jokes and arguments. Every sarcastic comment, every playful football match between you two, and calling him annoying was easier then revealing the true colors you two were hiding.
''I really thought I was gonna lose you if I said something.'' Jude admitted quietly.
Your expression softened.
''Jude.. you could never lose me.''
The relief the crossed onto his face was something you knew you'd remember forever. For someone who seemed so confident in everything he does, he almost looked as if unsure, like this was the one thing that got his heart racing.
The noise of the stadium continued around you but muffled. The cheering and the yelling, the music, the celebration all sounded distant but so close.
''Can I..?'' Jude gently caressed your cheek, asking softly.
You knew exactly what he meant and after years of wondering what it would feel like to finally stop hiding behind all those feelings of yours, you nodded.
The kiss was gentle, almost hesitant at first, like both of you were trying to understand that this was happening. But as the kiss deepened in meaning, the moments why you fell in love with Jude all made sense to you.
It felt familiar and new at the same time.
When you pulled away, neither of you moved far. Jude looked at you with the same smile you'd seen across gardens, cafes and football pitches for years.
''Okay, champion.'' You mocked. ''Let's go back to the fame and glory, yeah?''
He nodded, kissing your temple as the two of you walked back toward the pitch together, hand in hand.
The five memories weren't the reason why you fell in love with Jude. They were just the ones that made you realize you were already falling for him.
lovina speaks!: HELLO BABYBOOS THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLLOWERS!! part 3 of i dont do footballers will come out either today or tmr!! thank you for the support 💗
request: was wondering if you could write mutual pinning trope with jude? Like they’re childhood friends and are in love w each other but both think the other doesn’t want them.
warnings: fluffy, none
pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader
notes: hi, turns out my other fic sucks and i hate it so only this one tn. not proof read, requests are open, enjoy!
you've known him since you were eleven.
that's the thing people don't understand when they see the two of you together—the photos, the comments, the way he looks at you in instagram stories that you've learned to stop screenshotting because your camera roll was starting to look like a shrine. they don't know that before the champions league and the adidas deals and the number ten shirt, there was a boy in football boots two sizes too big who used to walk you home from school through the cut behind the rec in stourbridge, kicking stones, telling you he'd play for england one day like it was nothing, like it was just a fact, the sky is blue and i'm going to do something massive and you're going to see it.
you believed him. you always believed him.
that's the problem, maybe. you've believed in jude bellingham for so long that the believing has calcified into something else, something denser and more dangerous, something you carry around in the center of your chest like a stone you swallowed years ago and never could cough back up. you don't remember when it shifted—when looking at him started to feel like looking at the sun, when his voice on the phone started to make your throat tight, when you started lying awake at night in your flat thinking about the way he hugs you, full-body, arms around your shoulders and face in your hair, holding on like he's afraid you'll disappear. there wasn't a single moment. it was all of them. it was gradual and then it was sudden and now it's just the shape of your life, this quiet relentless ache that lives under everything you do.
he doesn't know. obviously he doesn't know. because jude bellingham—your jude, your best friend, the boy who once ate seventeen chicken nuggets on a dare and threw up behind the bike sheds—could have anyone. literally anyone. models message him. singers follow him. women with perfect teeth and perfect bodies and perfect lives slide into his dms and leave heart emojis and you've seen them because he shows you, laughs about it, scrolls through his notifications with you leaning against his shoulder on the sofa, and every single time it's like swallowing glass. you smile. you laugh. you say she's fit, mate, go for it, and something behind your sternum cracks a little more and you plaster over it with banter and ease and the careful, practiced performance of being fine.
you are so good at being fine.
it's a friday night and he's home. that's still a novelty—him being home, somewhere in england in this flat that's too big and too clean for a twenty-something who still buys cereal based on whatever cartoon is on the box. he texted you three days ago: back friday. come over? need to see you, been ages. and you'd typed and deleted fourteen different responses before settling on course, see you at 7, like it was nothing, like your hands weren't shaking.
you're on his sofa now. he's in joggers and a hoodie, socked feet tucked up on the cushions, and you're tucked into the other end with a glass of wine he'd poured for you without asking because he remembers that you drink red, not white, and that you like it room temperature, not chilled, because you told him once four years ago on a night out in london and he just—filed it away. he does that. remembers things. small things, stupid things, things that don't matter, and every time he demonstrates one of them it's like a small knife between your ribs, precise and clean.
"you hungry?" he says, scrolling through his phone. "was gonna order thai. that place you like."
"the one with the really good—"
"yeah. green curry, extra basil, no prawns because you're—"
"allergic, yeah."
he looks up and grins and it's the same grin from when he was fourteen and scuffed his knee playing five-a-side and you'd pressed your sleeve against it to stop the bleeding, both of you crouched behind the goal, and he'd said you're well annoying, you know that and you'd said then stop bleeding on me and he'd laughed so hard he'd started bleeding again.
"green curry, extra basil, no prawns," he repeats, already typing it into the app. "see? i listen sometimes."
"shock," you say, and pull your knees up, tucking your feet under the throw cushion. he catches the movement—catches the fact that your feet are cold, probably, because two minutes later he's reaching over and pulling the blanket off the back of the sofa and dropping it over your legs without a word, without even looking away from his phone.
you want to scream.
instead you say, "thanks," and he says, "mm," and that's it. that's the whole exchange. it's nothing. it's everything.
the food comes and you eat on the sofa because neither of you is interested in the dining table, which is currently covered in unopened post and a ps5 controller and a cap he wore to training once and never moved. he puts something on the tv—a film, something with explosions, you're not paying attention—and you settle back into the cushions with the blanket pulled up to your waist and your wine in your hands and the warm full feeling of green curry in your stomach and jude bellingham three feet away from you on the same sofa.
he moves closer during the film. not all at once. it's incremental, a slow tectonic shift, like he's doing it without realizing. first he stretches his legs out, bare ankle brushing yours under the blanket. then his arm comes along the back of the sofa—not around you, just behind you, resting there, his fingertips a few inches from your shoulder. then he shifts his weight and his knee is pressed against your thigh, warm through the blanket, and he doesn't move it.
"this film's shit," you say.
"yeah."
"why are we watching it?"
"dunno. didn't want to talk over anything good."
you turn to look at him and he's already looking at you, and there's something in his expression that you can't—there's something there, warm and heavy and unreadable, and it makes your breath catch. his eyes drop to your mouth for half a second, so quick you almost imagine it, and then back up, and he smiles, small and crooked, and says, "what?"
"nothing."
"you're staring."
"i'm not staring, i'm looking. it's my face, i can look wherever i want."
"that's my face, actually."
"well i'm looking at it."
"yeah," he says, quieter now, and the corner of his mouth twitches. "i noticed."
the silence stretches. his knee is still pressed against your thigh. his fingers are still resting on the sofa behind your shoulder, not touching you, not not-touching you. the film plays, ignored, blue light flickering across his face, catching the line of his jaw, the shadow of stubble he hasn't shaved since he got back. your heart is hammering so loud you're sure he can hear it.
"i missed you," he says, and his voice has gone soft, the way it does when it's late and it's just the two of you and the performance falls away. he says it like it costs him something.
"missed you too."
"no, like—" he stops. runs a hand over his face, rough, scrubbing. "i mean. it's different now. when i'm away. used to be i'd miss home, miss mum, miss the dog. now it's—i just miss you. specifically. like, all the time. first thing i think about when i wake up."
he says it like a confession and you can feel the blood drain from your face, then rush back, hot and prickling. your hand tightens on the wine glass. "jude—"
"not like—you know what, forget it." he laughs, but it's off, thin at the edges, and he looks away, jaw tight. "didn't mean to make it weird."
"you didn't make it weird."
"i made it weird."
"jude, you literally didn't—"
"it's fine. s'fine. i just—" he exhales hard, tips his head back against the sofa, stares at the ceiling. his throat is long and brown and his adam's apple bobs when he swallows and you want to put your mouth on it so badly your teeth ache. "i think about you a lot when i'm gone. like, more than mates, probably. more than is normal. and i know that's—it's whatever. you don't have to say anything, i just needed to stop pretending, yeah? it's doing my head in."
the room is very quiet. the film is still playing. somewhere outside, a siren wails and fades. your heart is in your throat, pounding, and you can't feel your hands.
"more than mates," you repeat, slowly, like you're testing the words.
he doesn't look at you. he's still staring at the ceiling, jaw clenched, and there's a flush creeping up the back of his neck, red against brown. "yeah."
"jude."
"don't—seriously, don't say it if you don't—i know you don't feel—" he stops again, grinds his teeth, and his hand on the back of the sofa curls into a fist, knuckles tight. "i've thought about it for ages, right? years, actually. but you're—you're my best friend. you're the most important person in my life. and i'd rather have you like this than not at all, so i just. i've kept it to myself. but tonight i just—" he laughs again, cracked and helpless. "i can't. i can't sit here and pretend anymore. it's killing me."
you're going to cry. you can feel it building, hot and tight behind your eyes, and you blink hard, setting the wine glass down on the coffee table with a click because your hands are shaking too badly to hold it.
"jude, look at me."
he doesn't.
"jude. look at me."
he turns his head, slow, like it's the hardest thing he's ever done, and his eyes are wide and dark and terrified and soft all at once, and you can see it now, everything you missed, everything you explained away—the way he watches you when he thinks you aren't looking, the way he remembers the small things, the way he pulls you into hugs that last three seconds too long, the way his hand always finds the small of your back in crowds, the way he said i just miss you, specifically, like it was a confession he'd been carrying for years.
"you idiot," you whisper, and his face falls, and you grab the front of his hoodie and pull him toward you and kiss him.
he freezes. for one horrible second he's completely still, rigid, like he can't process what's happening, and then something breaks in him—audibly, almost, a sharp exhale through his nose—and his hand comes up to cradle your face and he kisses you back. his mouth is warm and a little chapped and he kisses you like he's been starving for it, slow and deep and desperate, his fingers sliding into your hair, his other arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him. you climb into his lap because you can't get close enough, knees on either side of his hips, and he makes a sound against your mouth, a groan or a whimper or something in between, and his hands spread wide across your lower back, pressing you against him.
"fuck," he breathes when you break apart, forehead pressed to yours, "fuck, i've wanted—that was—you—"
"shut up," you say, laughing, crying, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "shut up, you absolute idiot, i've been in love with you since we were sixteen."
his whole face changes. the fear drains out and something else floods in—wonder, disbelief, a joy so raw it looks almost like pain—and he says, "what?" in this voice, this small wrecked voice, and you laugh again, helplessly, and kiss the corner of his mouth.
"since we were sixteen, jude. since before that, probably. since forever. since you walked me home and told me you'd play for england and i believed you."
"you—" he stares at you, eyes wide, mouth open. "but you never—you always said i should—you told me to go for it when i showed you those girls'—"
"because i thought you didn't—" you grab his face in both hands, squishing his cheeks slightly, and he looks so stunned and so young and so beautiful that you almost start crying again. "i thought you saw me as a friend. i thought i was just the girl from home. i thought—"
"are you serious right now?" his voice cracks. "you thought i—i literally almost didn't sign for real madrid because it meant being further away from you. jobe has a voice note of me crying about it, if you need proof—"
"you cried about real madrid?"
"i cried about you, you muppet, because i thought if i left you'd meet someone and i'd—i'd lose you and i couldn't—" he stops, swallows hard, his jaw working. his hands are trembling where they rest on your waist. "i've been in love with you since we were kids. since before i knew what it meant. everything i've done, every milestone, every good moment—my first thing was always to call you. did you never notice that? did you never think that was weird?"
"i thought you were just being you."
"being me is being in love with you!" he says, almost angrily, and then catches himself, and the anger dissolves into something helpless and awed. "that's just—that's what being me is."
you stare at him. he stares at you. the film is still playing, forgotten, the blanket tangled around your legs, his hands warm and steady on your waist. his thumb traces a small circle against your hip, absently, like he's doing it without thinking, and it sends a shiver through you so intense that your breath hitches.
"how long?" you whisper. "how long have you—"
"i don't know. forever? year ten? that night at katie's party when you wore that blue dress and i couldn't stop looking at you and denze said, oh mate, you're gone, and i was like, shut up, and he was right. he was so right. i was gone."
you remember that party. you remember the blue dress. you remember him standing in the kitchen with a warm beer, watching you dance, and you'd thought—no, you'd hoped—but then he'd gone home early and you'd decided you'd imagined it.
"all this time," you say softly, and it's not a question.
"all this time," he confirms, and pulls you closer, wraps his arms around you and tucks his face into your neck, and you can feel him shaking, fine tremors running through his shoulders. "all this bloody time, and you—you too? this whole time?"
"this whole time."
"fuck," he says, muffled against your skin. "we're so stupid."
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