hello! we are sun and nani. we both love writing, so we decided to start this blog and share our writing with the world. we hope you enjoy!
about sun: standard intj, football, f1 and nfl lover, die hard tifosa, movie enjoyer, designer
about nani: silly gemini, football and f1 lover, musical enjoyer, twenty one pilots stan, scientist
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(content warning: unrequited feelings, cheating [unrelated to jude x reader], toxic relationship [also not jude x reader], smut, fingering, unprotected sex [have safe sex pls])
it's been a while since i wrote a jude smut, but you ask and i shall deliver. we have been waiting for this one. heavily inspired by "fuck the pain away (lost tapes 2022)" by tory lanez.
He was exhausted. Not because of football, not because of fame, but because of his best friend. Being physically exhausted was something he was used to — Jude could get rid of it in a few weeks if it resulted in some type of pain. Emotionally, however? He was clueless as to how to heal it, especially since time did nothing but deepen his feelings towards her. It messed up his head, his thoughts got foggy, and he seemed to act out of impulse whenever he was around her. Nothing could really stop him when she was next to him, and that was his doom.
Well, that and her boyfriend. Her hideous, stupid attempt of a man of a boyfriend, whom did nothing but make her feel bad and cheat on her. She wasn’t the girl Jude used to know anymore — the fierce one, who everyone would be scared to even look at her the wrong way. Somehow, that manipulator managed to get her undivided forgiveness every time. It was a never-ending cycle, one that was tearing his mind apart. He was always the one to rescue her, until that dumbass showed up again, promising to be different and acting like a prince for a week.
That night wasn’t any different. The moment his phone vibrated in his pocket and Jude saw who sent the message, he already knew what it was about. And, despite being tired, he still walked up to her house, because she had him at his mercy. He wanted nothing more than to see her okay again, to be her sunshine of her rainy days.
Even if for a single moment only.
She had left the door unlocked for him. Jude carefully got inside, taking a deep breath. He could hear her sobs coming from her room, which he carefully walked up to.
“Princess?” Jude called out softly.
Even in the darkness, he could see her hands coming to dry the tears in her eyes. She sat up, still sniffing, and he sat next to her. He caressed gently her face and wiped another tear.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly.
“What’s the point? You already know what happened. It’s what always happens.” She let out a humorless chuckle and sighed. “I’m sorry. I probably look like shit right now.’
Bellingham took a moment to look — more like admire — her face. Red glimmering eyes, puffy nose, the bite marks on her lip to avoid crying. She still looked breathtaking.
“You look like a mess, honey,” Jude smirked. “But still pretty as ever.”
She gave a small smile, that quickly turned into a grimace, and she looked at him.
“I feel so weak, Jude. I don’t know why I keep letting this happen, I don’t know why I’m so—” she stopped midsentence and laid in bed again, holding back her tears. He was next to her, supporting the weight of his body on his elbow. “Please, take this pain away. I can’t handle this anymore.”
He took a deep breath yet again. There’s not much he could do, and all his options sounded selfish; even if it was for her own good, it also benefited him. Like leaving that project of a man for once and all. He slowly took strands of her hair out of her face, gently outlining her cheek. He avoided looking at her lips, because he couldn’t do anything about it. Especially with her this vulnerable.
“I’m here, princess. What can I do for you?” Jude asked quietly, toying her hair between his fingers.
“Take the pain away.” She begged again and looked into his eyes.
She had no idea how much Jude wanted to do that.
“I can’t do that. I’m not him, I can’t fix his mistakes, but I can—” he bit his tongue when he realized he was about to say too much; to act selfishly, to prove her she could do better, to give her a taste of what she could have.
A few moments of silence fell between them and her eyes searched for his. She leaned closer, as if she got the hint. As if she wanted it too.
Jude could be her temporary relief, he didn’t care. If he could help, he would.
Who was he trying to fool? If he could have her in any way, he would.
“Fuck the pain away. I could fuck the pain away, baby.” He whispered as he looked at her in her beautiful, almost translucent nightgown. “An eye for an eye. Give him a taste of his own poison. You say the word, I’ll do it.”
She leaned even closer to him, her hand gently resting on his face as she caressed his cheek. She bit her lip, thinking. She was desperate, and Jude was right there for her.
If her boyfriend could do it, then so could she.
Without a second warning, to Jude’s surprise, her lips crashed into his, hastily seeking relief. When their tongues touched, she was in a frenzy, and everything started to get blurry.
All she could think was the way Jude kissed and bit her neck, the way his warm tongue descended to her collarbone and threatened to go even lower. The way she tugged, on Jude’s hair, not wanting the moment the moment to end, needing more of his kisses. Of his burning touch.
“Need to take this off, princess.” He muttered against her collarbone, holding the hem of her nightgown. She nodded and stood her arms up so he could easily remove it. “Making this all so easy for me.” He said once he saw her breasts and tossed the nightgown away, biting her nipple before gently sucking it while caressing the other with expertise.
She was already panting. In a single attempt, he brought his covered knee close to her core, and the damp in her panties was undeniable.
That only fueled his anger. That bastard had her and didn’t touch her properly.
His mouth left her breast and moved back to her neck, sucking and biting it while his hand descended to her core and she her back almost arched in anticipation; if he knew she was that touch deprived, he would’ve suggested that a long time ago.
With his hands underneath her underwear, he pressed two fingers against her clit and moved them slowly, pressuring further to see the way her chest rose, the way her cheeks flush and how her mouth opened, too scared to make a sound.
So, without warning, Jude inserted the two fingers inside her and moved them fast, curling them until he found the spot that made her back arch, and the room became filled with moans. He kissed her throat, his mouth vibrating with each moan that came out of her mouth. His movements were precise, fast, and with an urge to prove something that, before he could realize or properly enjoy what he was doing, her walls were closing against his fingers.
“Jude, I’m—” she tried to say, but he smirked against her skin and moved his fingers even harder.
“You’re what? Tell me, baby.” Jude teased her and her back arched. He felt his fingers hurt, but it didn’t matter. Not when she was coming undone in his hands.
“Jude—” she tried to warn again, and he kept moving his fingers, looking at her in the eyes. She struggled to keep them open, trying to keep eye contact.
“Is that everything you know how to say now? My name?” He hit the spot once again and smirked. “I could get used to that.”
Her walls fully clenched around his fingers, and she finally came, seeing stars behind her eyes and leaving a loud moan. It was something she had never experienced so strongly, and she didn’t know if it was because her boyfriend didn’t care about her pleasure or if it was because it was Jude. Maybe the answer was both.
“Fuck.” she muttered, panting. He just smirked, looking into her eyes and leaning away, putting his own fingers in his mouth to taste her.
“Now that’s a very—” his fingers left his mouth with a pop once he made sure to savor the taste. “—very good girl. And a delicious one, if I might add. Could taste you for fucking hours.”
Jude didn’t care if he still had his clothes on. He had a taste of hers, and nothing would stop him now. If he already couldn’t stop himself before touching, the gods may as well punish him, and it wouldn’t be enough for him to stop.
He kissed her again, making her taste herself before lowering the kisses — from her mouth to the spot under her ear. From her neck to her collarbone. From the valley of her breasts to her stomach. The kisses only lowered. Before he could reach her panties once again, starving, she tugged on her hair.
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m too worked up for you to eat me out. Need more.”
He bit his lip and smirked. As much as he wanted to taste her, he wanted to be inside her. He took off his shirt in a swift move and she sat up, crawling closer to him to kiss him and bite his neck. He felt like his skin was on fire and the bulge on his sweatpants only got harder. He took a deep breath.
“You’re not helping, princess.” He sighed.
“Am I not?” Now it was her time to tease. She straddled him and sat right against his crotch, making him almost roll his eyes. “You should take those sweatpants off.” She said as her hands caressed his abdomen.
He quickly turned the position, now on top of her, and took his sweatpants off.
“Good enough for you, princess?” He whispered, leaning closer.
“Better if you took your underwear off.” She smirked.
“Brat.”
Instead of taking his underwear off, he took her panties off in one single move. A risky one, since he could’ve ripped it from how quickly he took it off. He lowered and admired for a moment.
“Such a pretty pussy. A shame you won’t let me eat you out.” He whispered as he looked at her core, gently touching her puffy clit once again. She was stretched, but not enough. He didn’t pay attention to that when he had his fingers inside her — he just wanted to see her pretty face coming.
“Jude.” She called him out with some urgency, and he sighed.
Maybe the gods couldn’t stop Jude, but she could.
He took his underwear off, only now realizing how painfully hard he was. She watched as his cock sprung out, rigid, leaking with too much precum. He bit his lip and put his hand around his cock, spreading the precum slowly. He knew how sensitive he was right now, and he had to hold it back for her. He lined his member with her entrance and slowly dipped inside her.
She moaned loudly and Jude could feel his breath stopping from how tight she was. He gave her some time to adjust to his size.
“This is too much.” She whined.
“Darling, I’m not even moving.” He replied. “Your boyfriend lacks even in that area? He’s truly useless.”
She would’ve chuckled if she wasn’t having a hard time with the way his cock filled her, the burning sensation from the stretch seeming unending.
“It hurts.”
Jude leaned close to her, their lips almost touching.
“It doesn’t, baby.” He thrusted one time, to make her more used to the movements. “I’m taking the pain away. Just feel me here. That’s all you have to do.” He pressed his hand against her belly and thrusted once again, earning a moan and feeling himself from how big he was.
She could do much better than her boyfriend. He wanted to be the much better.
He started properly moving, hard, fast, desperate for his own release as well. To prove her how much better she could be fucked if he was the one doing it. And each time he hit the spot, he could feel her walls clenching. His hand never left her belly, knowing how deep he was going into her. He couldn’t stop.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and held his hair as his movements became more frenetic, moans dripping from her mouth to his ear with anything he did. He moaned whenever she clenched too hard against him.
“You’re so fucking tight.” he muttered, panting, trying to keep the pace. It was taking all of his willpower to not just come already. She didn’t reply, of course. She was too busy scratching his back and moaning desperately.
His movements became more erratic, slower, and, when her walls clenched around him one last time, he spilled everything inside her and fell to her chest, trying to catch his breath.
“Jude?” She called him out once they could properly speak.
“Yeah?”
“Stay. For the night.” She pleaded softly, caressing his back that were marked by the painting her nails had done.
“I wasn’t planning to go anywhere else, princess.” He smiled at her.
Jude held her against his chest, as she peacefully slept. He leaned his chin on the top of her head and, once he was certain she was sleeping, he sighed.
“I can’t take the pain away because I’m not your man.” Jude whispered. “But I wish I was.”
it's been a while again, but jude smut coming soon. meanwhile, enjoy this small, short fluff i made for camavinga. he deserves more appreciation.
beabadoobee · Loveworm · Song · 2019
“Cama—” she said between laughters. “Could you please stop?”
Camavinga was hitting her with a pillow, gently, of course, because he would never hurt his best friend. They had known each other for so long and despite her many attempts to annoy him, he wouldn’t fight back. He never did. He didn’t know why.
That day, Eduardo was trying skating with her. For a footballer, he had a terrible balance. While she mocked his attempt of a performance, he fell and scratched his knee. He complained like it was the end of his career.
Between a mix of a huff and a laughter, she took him to her place — they weren’t far away, after all, since it was her skate.
“When you said you had band-aids,” he said while still hitting her with the pillow. “I didn’t think it would be Hello Kitty ones! It ruins all my stylish reputation! What do you think I look like with these?” he asked, stopping for a moment to point to his wounded knee.
Eduardo was being overly dramatic, and he knew it. It was how their dynamic worked, and he wouldn’t change it for anything in the world
“A princess?” she attempted, trying to hold her laughter.
“You’re so—” Camavinga had given up on hitting her with the pillow and threw himself on her bed.
She could get under her skin so easily, but that was due to how much she knew him. He was sure that, at this point, they could become one. If he was blind, he could find her by the scent of her hair. And, if he couldn’t smell, Eduardo would still know her from her simple touch of her hand or by touching the strands of her hair.
Was that an appropriate thought? He had to get rid of it.
“What? Beautiful? Smart? The sweetest girl in town?” She teased him.
Maybe she was all of that. Maybe even a bit more. But it was a thought he didn’t dare to cross.
“Annoying is more suitable.” He rolled his eyes.
“My Hello Kitty princess.” She teased him and pinched his sides, making him slightly flinch and huff.
“Fine. Have your field day with your stupid band-aids. I’m going to change them when I get home.” He replied, gruff.
He wouldn’t, not at all. Not when she kneeled in front of him and made sure to take care of him. No matter how silly the band-aid was, he wouldn’t change it.
Did that mean something?
No, he couldn’t think about it. Not about his friend. Much less in her bed.
Eduardo Camavinga was a lot of things. A famous footballer, a Real Madrid player, a charmer, a funny guy. But, in his mind, above all, he was her best friend; the thought terrified him just as much as it thrilled him. He couldn’t stop thinking of her gentle touch against his skin, worried about a mere scratch on his knee that he had made a big deal of.
“Edu?” She asked, the nickname only she was allowed to use. No one else called him that. “You’re spacing out, my dear.”
They were having milkshakes while sitting on a bench at her favorite park. Slowly, Eduardo was starting to realize the number of things he did or places he went because she was happy with it, and how he learnt to love it out of her happiness.
But he couldn’t think about that. Not about her, right?
Although, he had to admit, it was pretty damn hard to not think like that when she called him my dear. He stretched his free arm, with his yellow letter jacket, and put it behind her. A common gesture.
“I was just thinking about football.” Easy escape. Camavinga could get rid of almost anything if he said it was about football. No one dared to say otherwise.
Except her, of course, because she had to be an exception for every damn thing in his life. She knew him too much. Maybe he was going mad.
“You’re a terrible liar.” She said and took a sip of her milkshake as if what she had said was nothing.
“Excuse me?” He said, almost offended. She could see right through him.
“You do this thing when you’re lying that you crease your eyebrows and look away. Like when you said you wouldn’t buy anything expensive for my birthday.” She explained.
“You think you’re so clever.” Eduardo rolled his eyes. She wasn’t wrong. “You’re not the only one who pays attention, you know?”
“Oh, yeah?” She looked at him, defiant.
“Yeah. For example—” He leaned close to her. If he was truly observant, he would’ve realized the look in her eyes. How her pupils dilated or the way her breath hitched; how she looked from his mouth to his eyes. “The strands of your hair are tucked behind your ear, and you never do that. Besides, you ordered a cappuccino milkshake when you only drink matcha. Doesn’t sound much like you, does it?”
She bit her bottom lip. She never would have thought he paid that much attention to her.
“First of all, matcha is heavenly. Second, can’t a girl try new stuff?” She argued.
“Sure, Hello Kitty.” He replied with a smirk, going back to appreciate the trees nearby.
“I think I more a My Melody girl.” She said, squinting her eyes, as if she was truly in deep thought about the subject. He just rolled his eyes.
“You’re annoying.” He retorted, holding back a smile. He wouldn’t change a thing about her.
They were both drunk in her room, sitting on her couch while the movie they were watching ended. They had too much of a mixture of apple cider with alcoholic drinks. Didn’t taste perfect, but they just wanted to get wasted. It was their way to relax during a Saturday night.
“You know,” Camavinga looked at her, his tone slurred. “I really like your hair. It’s so pretty and soft and—”
“I really like your mouth.” She interrupted him, not even processing what she was saying. He felt his heartbeat slightly faster, because, at the same time it could mean nothing, it could mean something. “They’re so full and look so soft, perfect to—”
She stopped mid-sentence. She couldn’t say what she wanted to say.
Camavinga leaned closer to her. It was past midnight, and he didn’t give a damn about anything else at that moment but her. She leaned right back, to his surprise.
“Perfect to what?” he asked in a whisper, as if it was another one of their secrets. Something forbidden to say.
“To kiss.” she finally replied, her voice barely audible.
And that was his doom. He couldn’t take it any longer, and he was tired of keeping his thoughts and feelings away.
He leaned closer, inches away from her mouth, closing his eyes as he tried to get courage to do what he had been wanting to for a long time. But, to his surprise, she kissed him. Her soft hands between his jaw and the back of his ear as his hands traveled to her perfect hair. Time stopped for a moment; their minds dizzy from the gentleness of the kiss. It was as if they were testing waters, to evaluate if that was forbidden or not.
It certainly didn’t taste forbidden.
“You taste like apple cider.” She whispered softly against his lips once they pulled away, looking for some air.
“So do you.” He chuckled softly.
“Even if we’re just friends,” she whispered. “We could be more than that, right?”
realized it's been a while since i showed up! might not be that good, but hope u enjoy it :)
You weren’t even sure why you and Jude kept constantly fighting. You both worked well together — he was a good, consistent partner and he never took anything out on you. Everyone around you could go on about how the two of you were almost a match made in heaven, with tempers that combined, made a great couple. However, those tempers were exactly what led to so many pointless, useless arguments.
You had been arguing the whole ride back to your place, where he was supposed to sleep at that day. Neither of you remembered exactly how it started — the meaning losing somehow behind the amount of alcohol both of you had while clubbing. You were complaining about something while Jude tried to take deep, long breaths before always replying drying and sarcastically.
When you arrived and left the car, you turned to him after you opened the door up.
“You know what, Bellingham?” You asked. He always hated when you called him by his last name. “Just turn around and go home. I don’t want you here.”
“And I—” he held the door as you tried to shut in his face, failing miserably considering how taller and stronger he was, and he walked inside your place. “Don’t care. I’m staying here, sweetheart.”
You rolled your eyes and huffed as he sat down on your couch. He was just as bothered as you, if not more, but you were too mouthful when it came to fighting. You stood in front of him once he turned on your TV.
“You’re sleeping here. On the couch.”
He laughed dryly at your attempt to command him. Since you were on his way of watching the TV, he held your waist and, in one, swift move, pulled you onto his lap.
“You’re so fucking annoying.” He muttered in your ear as you began to shift uncomfortably on his lap. You had always hated how easy it was for him to manhandle you, to move you around; but, above all, you always hated how much it affected you, despite every attempt of yours to ignore it. It was like the words you said before were nothing to your body and mind.
You got quiet, and you could hear the movie he had put on behind you. The quieter you got, the calmer you got. Jude still held your waist on a tight grip, not wanting you to move nor leave his lap.
You shifted on his lap once again. Except, this time, you found yourself between one of his thighs, and your skirt and the thin piece of fabric protecting your cloth were doing only so little to avoid the friction, and you gasped before you could process it. Your boyfriend, of course, noticed it.
“You okay there, darling?” He asked, his cocky tone showing once again because he could tell where you mind was when your eyes met. “Aren’t you the one who always says sex doesn’t solve fights?”
You knew he was teasing you, but getting a rise out of you was always too easy.
“I swear to God—”
Jude chuckled, leaning his head against your couch and using his hand on your waist to move you around his thigh, guiding the moves your hips made and the friction of your covered cloth against him.
“Shh,” he hushed you gently in your ear. “Know how much you like it. Just shut for a second, alright?”
It was not like your body had any will to say no when he was moving you against his thigh so deliciously. Your head fell to his shoulder once the friction got to your clit, and that was when his hand began to slide lower down your body.
His fingers worked their way to your core, tossing your panties to the side as the fingertips of his middle and ring finger collected the wetness in your slit, teasing you up and down as you squirmed. You could already feel yourself panting, and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, Jude or the meaningless argument. Perhaps a combination of both, considering how much, deep down, you loved when he shut you up.
“Can’t resist you when you wear those skirts around me.” He mumbled against your collarbone as he spread kisses. His fingers were now moving in circular motions against your clit, and your hips subconsciously moved to follow his movements. You whined in his ear, and he could feel his uncomfortable bulge growing on his pants.
“Jude—”
You didn’t even need to ask. Not when he knew what you wanted. Slowly, his two fingers were inside you, but he didn’t move them. You were more frustrated than ever – having his fingers inside you was better than nothing, but you needed him to move them.
“I won’t do a thing. You’ll have to ride them by yourself.” He whispered in your ear, and you moaned out of frustration and arousal. “And you’ll be really, really quiet.”
Before you could protest, two fingers of his other hand were inside your mouth. He moved them enough to make you gag, and your hips were moving again. At first, slowly, to see if Jude would do anything. When you realized you were truly all by yourself, you began to move faster, erratically and desperately, trying to find the right angle as you used his fingers. He watched as you squirmed and clenched around his fingers, and he wanted to fuck you so badly.
But he needed to teach you how to shut up at times. Maybe it’d stop the nonsensical arguments – though a part of him didn’t want that to change.
He curled his fingers inside you just enough to reach the spot he knew you needed, and you rolled your eyes back. When he noticed your moans getting louder, he sank his fingers further down your throat, and you rode him faster until you finally, finally came.
He took his fingers out of your mouth and chuckled once you crumbled down on top of him.
“You sound so much better when you’re quiet,” he joked in your ear as you tried to catch your breath. You whined when he took his fingers off you and led it to his mouth, tasting your juices like it was the last thing he would be able to do.
“Maybe I should stop arguing.” You agreed with him after a while, your eyes shut as you kissed his neck softly.
“You know,” he smirked. “If I get to shut you up like this, I don’t mind having you bitching in my ear at every 5 seconds.”
You laughed softly and rolled your eyes, leaning away just enough to stare into his beautiful, big brown eyes. At moments like this, you were sure there was no one else in the world for you but Jude.
“Dickhead.” You mumbled.
“Careful, smart mouth.” He smiled. “Because I’m not leaving any time soon and, as far as I’m concerned, I’m always very keen to shut you up.
hope you enjoy this last part as much as i enjoyed writing this little story. don't forget that requests are open!
‘hey :)’
‘gonna keep leaving me on read?’
‘guess I’ll keep your coat with me’
She sighed when she read the texts. Jude was trying to reach out to her every day. Of course, his scene at the bar was more than enough to keep the man she was seeing far away from her. On one hand, it was Jude’s fault. Who would want to be Jude Bellingham’s competition? On the other hand, it was her fault. Her fault because she not only listened to his words, but also obeyed him. One thing Jude got right — it seemed like they weren’t done. Not yet at least.
She thought she was over him; she really did. She had put her life back on tracks — everything she had left on hold because of whatever happened between her and Jude, she went back. To her numerous projects, to her podcast, to writing articles about sports. To her friends, that she seemed to have disappeared a little bit of their lives. To focusing on her upcoming university semester, which, despite the good grades the previous semester, they could be better.
She had liked Jude wholeheartedly, she believed. She could have ended up loving him, if things had kept flowing the way they did when they were alone. She had allowed him to come over to his place, to know her routine, to know her. Told about her life, about her previous relationships, about everything that hurt her. She allowed him into his life with open arms, with him saying he would always be honest with her. Not that he wouldn’t hurt her, but he would be honest.
Hurt was something that came with liking someone; it was inevitable, especially when it came to her. Anxiety always took over her whenever it was about romantic matters, as if searching for any excuse to jump off; to just not be there, to not be vulnerable, to not allow anyone in. To be alone, something she had mastered.
She had trusted Jude, and he broke her trust. It was as simple as that. And now, he was trying to right his wrongs.
And she was confused; she didn’t know exactly how she felt about him. She had spent over a month assuming things about him, ruining the previous image she had of him being someone she could rely on, someone nice, someone that cared about her. It was replaced with thoughts of him being a selfish, almost sadistic person, as if he wanted to see her feeling bad — although she never gave him the delight of knowing how much harm he had caused.
Now, it was hard to identify the person he was being, to the person he was, to the person she assumed he was. The lines seemed blurred, and she didn’t have any evidence to support any feelings besides his ridiculous attempts of making conversation. It truly surprised her that he didn’t attempt to come over, respecting her privacy and her desire to be far away from him.
Perhaps, that said something about him.
Her phone buzzed again, and she rolled her eyes as another text popped up on her screen.
‘texting you before the match’
‘need my lucky charm’
‘can you reply at least once?’
‘can you fuck off?’
‘well, better than nothing’
‘hi, princess’
‘when are you giving me my coat back?’
‘does that mean you want to see me?’
‘no’
‘I’ll return it when you want to see me’
‘I might hate you, you know’
‘nah, you don’t’
The way he could easily get reactions out of her was annoying. She was so used to being logical, to keeping her composure, to being someone who would hardly react to anything at all. And yet, ever since they broke thing off, he could get her snapping in a matter of seconds. She knew Jude liked it — perhaps, it was his way of knowing she still felt something, despite not even her knowing what she felt.
She didn’t want to let him in once again, since she didn’t have the assurance that she wouldn’t be wrecked again. And being his friend was out of the picture – she couldn’t even think about the hypothesis. Jude knew her body with the back of his hand and the tip of his tongue. Not to mention how hurtful it would be if he ended up treating her better than he did when they were together.
She couldn’t afford to be hurt again.
So, she just decided to postpone whatever conversation they could have and slowly digest her feelings about what happened, about what was happening and about how they were. Associating the past to the present before deciding.
It was a quiet night; she didn’t like nights like those because it gave too much room for her thoughts. She tried distracting herself by reading, trying to watch something and even cooking — only to watch her fail every single one of her attempts. Jude was constantly on her mind, especially now that he had stopped texting her for a week.
Maybe he had given up.
Maybe he had found someone else.
Maybe he realized how famous he is and how he doesn’t need you at all.
Every single thought of hers, when it came to him, seemed too hurtful. She didn’t even know why she was so pressed that he wasn’t texting anymore when she had only been leaving him on read. Did she care? Was it bruised ego, or did she actually have some hope? She didn’t have an answer for any of her questions.
When she heard a knock on her door, she didn’t realize how late it was or how, in no way, it could be one of her friends deciding to bother her because she hadn’t been replying. That happened whenever she was too contemplative, and they were used to that. She just automatically opened the door and her eyebrows raised at the sight.
Jude was standing there, with a grey sweater and matching sweatpants, and a black beanie on. She was taken aback, suddenly remembering how comfortable he used to dress whenever he would come over, because he felt comfortable with her.
“You’re drunk.” It wasn’t a question, but more of a statement. She was sure she could tell if Jude was drunk or not from a mile away — he would always have a huge grin on his face, his eyes would become smaller, and he would always tilt his head whenever someone would speak to him. And, of course, the fact that he wouldn’t be standing there if it wasn’t for the alcohol.
“I scored the last match, the one I texted you before,” he said, his voice slightly dragged. He was drunk, but not that much. Good to know. “Did you watch it?”
She furrowed her eyebrows, leaning her head on her doorframe.
“I didn’t,” she confessed. Why did she feel bad about that?
“You didn’t,” he echoed and licked his lips. “I scored.”
“I know,” she replied. Every time he scored ended up all over the internet. There was way she wouldn’t know.
“For you, I mean. I blew a kiss to the camera, but I know you wouldn’t see it. Not when you didn’t even want to reply to me.”
Guilt washed all over her, even if she knew Jude didn’t blame her at all. He knew he was just dealing with the consequences of his actions, but that didn’t stop him from trying. Then again, what would ever stop Bellingham from trying anything? He was used to falling and getting up. To losing and keeping his head up.
Maybe that’s what he meant when he said he’d show me what’s in store if I wanted war, she thought. He knew he had lost the battle, but not the war.
The cold breeze blowing on her face brought her back to reality, and she realized she couldn’t leave him on her doorstep. She could, actually, but it wouldn’t be right of her. Not when he was drunk, vulnerable and something could happen. She’d rather have him inside her house than to let him wander the streets in that state, given who he was.
“Jesus, Jude,” she sighed, shaking her head and signaling him to come in, which he happily obliged. He stumbled until he managed to find his way to her couch. “Are you cold?”
“Not at all,” he shook his head and she nodded. “But could you just— sit next to me? Please.”
Truth be told, she never had to deny him much stuff. But she had learned that, even the little things she had to deny seemed hard to say no. And she found herself once again, in the same situation. She knew she could get hurt.
And yet.
Maybe there was a reason why she couldn’t deny him that. A reason why her feet were making their way to him, despite her heart pounding in anxiety and fear. Maybe, just maybe, there was a reason why she was choosing to walk to him instead of succumbing to her fears and shutting him off.
As she sat next to him, she noticed the way he looked at her; even drunk, it seemed like he was analyzing and memorizing every detail, every freckle, every single portion of her face. As if he didn’t know when it would happen again.
How wrecking must it be to adore someone and not being able to see them; to yearn in silence. To accept the fate and not try to change it. To accept any crumble that could come to you, because it would be better than nothing. Because even hurt would be better than indifference.
Amongst many things she had learned about Jude, she knew he didn’t accept fate. He didn’t believe in it. He believed he had control over his choices and everything that happened after that were nothing but consequences, which he could also change the course of. It hurt seeing someone who was always so self-assured suddenly show such an insecurity.
However, that was something she would’ve never noticed if she didn’t know him that much.
“I like you,” Jude said, still looking at her. For once, it didn’t seem blurted out — no, it seemed like something he had been thinking about for a long time. Nothing like the other times she heard that, no spontaneity in his voice. “So much. Hence why I tried so hard to at least get you to talk to me. It’s not about not being able to live without you, it’s about knowing my life could be so much better with you in it. Although, I must admit, I don’t do a pretty good job living without you.”
She stood quiet, suddenly catching herself also analyzing his features. He was still as beautiful as she remembered, unfortunately.
“I hurt you, I get it. I do. I broke your trust and, apparently, I can’t win it back. I’m in a losing battle every time I even think of texting you,” Jude let out a sad chuckle, his hand caressing her cheek softly, as if she could disappear at any moment. “I like that about you. Your judgment of knowing what serves you and what doesn’t. You said you weren’t the love of my life, but God, you could be. I’ve felt like I was too young to say that out loud, but it’s hard to not have thee thoughts when I’m miserable without you around.”
There was so much she wanted to say; like everything he said could just be a result of his wounded ego, or that she only served to caress his ego. Like it didn’t make any sense to her him even considering her the love of his life after how things had played out between them. But above all, she wanted to say how much her judgment was broken, because, at that moment, she didn’t know if she was doing what served her or not.
But, instead, she just leaned her cheek against his hand and gently shook her head.
“You’re drunk, Jude,” she whispered. “You have no idea of what you’re saying.”
“I’m not that drunk. Just enough to gather courage to come up to your house and overstepping a boundary. I know I overstepped on a lot of your boundaries that day at the nightclub, but I was also aware of how much it hurt you. I wouldn’t even think of not leaving you alone if I didn’t drink, and I really need to pour out my heart to you. If this must be my last attempt, then so it be. But just listen to me, please.” He begged her. It broke her heart to see that, in the end, he was just as wounded as she was.
They had met each other at the perfect timing to ruin each other; when neither of them wanted anything serious, when neither of them could commit to one another. When both of them were so bruised by past relationships that it’d blind the present and destroy what they were building. At least, that was how she saw it. She knew she had barely let herself enjoy it, always waiting to be hurt, always wanting to predict so she could leave before.
What a pathetic, yearning mess they had become.
“Okay,” she nodded slowly as his thumb ran through her cheek. “I’ll listen.”
He took a deep breath and stared into her eyes, admiring their shade and getting lost for a moment.
“My mum always told me that what was meant to be mine, would be mine. Close to the ‘what’s bound to happen, will happen’ kind of discourse, but not quite. The same way she always told me that what goes around always finds its way back around,” he tilted his head and sighed. “I know I’m paying for what I did; I don’t blame you for acting the way you have been or for trying to get over me because I’d do the same. I’d get over you if I could. But my mind just assumes that you’re meant to be mine. That, if I work hard enough, if I show my efforts, if I keep falling and getting up, at some point you’ll see that too. But it’s not football, you’re not a prize and I’m not really taking what you feel into consideration when I think that way.”
His hand traveled from her cheek to her hair, gently caressing it.
“The truth is, I can’t get over you. And I’ve been trying to right my wrongs, but at the end of the day, it’s all up to you. Despite of what I do and what I don’t, it’s your call. I’ve been at your mercy for so long and I don’t even think you’ve realized that,” he spoke, his voice shaking. She had never seen him so vulnerable. “I’d do anything to have you with me once again. I never took you for granted, though I know it seemed that way. I knew what I had; I knew I wouldn’t find better. You had warned me. I adored you then, but I let everything get in the way, my job, my past, my insecurities and I ended up wounding you. I made some decisions I regret, I acted selfish, but I swear to God, I still adore you. Even more than I did back then. It’s so much more than liking and I’m tired of pretending like it isn’t. Of acting nonchalant about it. If you’d ask me to commit here and now, I would. I would promise I’d never break your trust again if you’d let me in.”
He looked into her eyes once again.
“I’m at your fucking mercy,” he whispered. “And, looking back, I don’t think there ever was a moment I wasn’t.”
Jude’s words flooded her senses. As she tried to digest, she realized she knew the answer to this all along. She knew the answer when she suggested a break to be considerate about his feelings; she knew the answer when he had walked up to her while she was with someone else, and she didn’t ignore him. She knew the answer when she obeyed his only request. But especially, she knew the answer from the moment she had chosen to sit next to him instead of making him leave; the moment she chose a maybe instead of a certainty and let him stay.
In a loss for words, she suddenly held him tight. Dumbfounded, it took a while for him to wrap his arms around her; however, when he did, his head fell to the crook of her neck, and he inhaled her scent he had missed so much as she kissed the top of his head. The yearning and the waiting were so much that she didn’t even realize what she was missing until he held him again, a single tear falling down her face.
“Jude?” She asked quietly.
“Yeah?” Jude replied, leaning away just enough to look at her face and wipe the tear with a concerned glance.
“Do you think you can repeat all of that to me tomorrow, when you’re sober?” She asked and his face lit up.
“Tomorrow. The next day. The day after. Whenever you want me to say it.” He replied with a huge, genuine smile as his arms were still wrapped around her waist. She knew she would be fine. She knew they would be fine.
For once, she chose her peace instead of battling wars inside her head. For once, she chose her emotions against her logic. For once, she was willing to not run away.
Jude Bellingham knew a few things. He knew how good he was on pitch; he knew the perfect timing to pass, and he knew how to score beautiful and decisive goals. But above all, he knew he had royally screwed up with probably the only person he had ever liked after his terrible, boring and complicated relationship. And the guilt he carried on his shoulders from hurting someone that was too good for him, who had never wronged him at all was one of the heaviest burdens he had yet experienced.
He didn’t love her, no. He knew she didn’t love him either — neither of them allowed it to get that far. But he was in love. He knew it from all those moments he had with her, from all the times she faced troubles by his side, from every time she had forgiven him. From every caress, every kiss, every slight touch. And he couldn’t even get started on the sex.
Jude thought he was making the right decision — making her stay away from his problems, asking for her to still be around somehow, even if he didn’t know exactly where she’d fit in his life, and being selfish.
He only forgot, in the meantime, that she had also every right to be selfish and not take accountability of the way he felt or of what would hurt him. After all, that had been exactly what he did to her. After the conversation they had, the week after, she accepted the break. But he knew her better than that — it was, most likely, just her trying to be considerate. They had talked so much about her previous relationships when they were together that he knew things were done for her. She even texted him saying she found something out and was upset but left him on read once he replied.
At the end of the day, Jude was just a man. When they had gone no contact for two weeks because of him, he had hit on some girls. Put himself out there. He was so sure of what he wanted that it felt okay to be that selfish. He was mad at her for the way she acted at the club and had decided they wouldn’t match at all.
He also thought, being only 21, he had so much stuff to live. Why would he be stuck with someone he wasn’t even dating when he could live? He knew what he wanted.
Until he saw how much better she seemed without him. Jude wasn’t proud of it, but he kept tabs on her — usually checking her Twitter or her Instagram profile. She hadn’t tweeted anything in a few days and she was always going out; her Instagram stories filled with nice places, surrounded by friends and music, and looking majestic. Like he hadn’t hurt her at all. As if she felt nothing. As if, all this time, what was keeping her from thriving was him.
To say his ego was bruised was an understatement. He tried to give her tit for that, going out and posting, but even he knew he didn’t look near as happy as her. He still had her on his close friends, and she hadn’t posted anything in hers for a while.
Did she take him out of her close friends?
Why was she posting things so close to her male friends?
Why there were so many new people following her?
Who are those new people commenting on her posts?
Is this a friend of hers? Is she flirting?
It didn’t take a genius to understand that he was, more than ever, regretting. But Jude, always letting his pride take the best of him, wouldn’t show it. Not at all. He tried to act okay and nonchalant, as if he didn’t check his texts to see if she had finally replied, her Twitter account to see how her life was doing, her Instagram to check if she had found anyone at all.
Of course she must’ve had found someone new. Jude knew he could do the same, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He tried to go on a few dates, but every woman seemed so boring next to her. They didn’t talk like she did, they weren’t smart like she was, they weren’t near as funny as she was.
She, she and she. They were on a break, right? Technically, at least. She said she wouldn’t put any rules to the break, and at first that seemed like freedom to him. Now, it just felt like a taunt — a reminder she could not be there anymore when and if they got back. She had told him that, that he couldn’t expect her to be waiting on him forever. He couldn’t even expect her to wait, if he was being honest. Knowing her feisty personality, she would never wait on him.
Jude was filled with remorse. It was his choice and he thought he was doing the right thing, but he realized he had just been an impulsive prick. He got annoyed at her and thought he’d manage easily to be without her — after all, they were just a thing. A little serious, of course, but not official.
But when he laid in bed alone, he missed her caresses, as if only she knew the right way to mess with his soft locks. He missed her laughter, the smile that was always on her face when they were together. The shy way she’d get closer when she wanted him to caress her, almost as if she’d get too vulnerable for asking something he was more than willing to give her. God, he missed being at her place, on her bed, talking the whole day and his friends asking where the hell he had gone. He missed the sex, the way she’d pant his name, the way her eyes shut close when it was too much, how she’d hold his face when he was on top of her so his eyes would never leave hers. As if it was even necessary.
It seemed like he couldn’t find that on anyone else. Nothing even slightly close. He’d even try to picture her as some of the girls he went out with, but even that didn’t work. His life just seemed to go downhill as hers thrived.
It made him bitter. Jude made his bed, and he was lying on it.
Did she still think about him, at least? Did she keep tabs too? Was it an act?
Who was he trying to fool? She probably hated him by now. Not wanting to see even the slightest trace of his existence, if he knew her.
It was another insufferable Friday, which meant he had to find something to do. His life couldn’t stop just because one aspect of it was completely, utterly fucked. Jude texted his friends and most of them were going to this expensive, fancy bar they had the habit of going.
He truly liked the place — hanging lights, lots of plants surrounding it on the outside. The dark wooden, shiny floor and the elegant black marble where you’d get your drinks and the strategically placed couches of velvet in a shade of dark blue. It was pleasant, refreshing and ostentatious. Seemed like the perfect place to get her out of his mind.
Or so, he thought. He should’ve known better, he should’ve known she would, somehow, by an unfortunate coincidence, show up when he was decided to forget her for one night, at least.
His feet were making its way to her before his mind could stop it. Too focused on the way she sat on the couch, crossing her legs. The way that her skirt slowly rode up whenever she’d slightly shift her position and that goddamn leather crop top was, most certainly, going to be the death of him.
Jude’s eyes were so focused on the breathtaking, unexpected sight of her that he didn’t notice she had someone with her until he was too close. He opened his mouth, but words seemed to die on his dry throat. She seemed surprised to see him – not in a positive way, however. He could see the small, slight frown on her face and the glance of disappointment.
He shouldn’t have left his place at all.
“Wait, is this—?” The man next to her spoke up. He seemed to be excited about Jude’s presence and that made him want to scoff. If he knew about the situation, he’d be quiet. The man wasn’t bad looking, far from it, but not what she deserved.
What she deserves then?, Jude asked himself. Because it definitely wasn’t what he did to her.
“I’m him.” Jude replied as fast as he could, staring at the man with a firm look. He was probably unaware of the situation, so why was Jude even trying to defy him in any way? He wouldn’t understand it.
“How do you know Jude Bellingham?” Her date asked her, looking at her with the biggest smile.
She gave him a small smile in return. Jude knew that smile too well — the one where she’d thin her lips, trying only to be polite when she was more than annoyed. What a great situation.
“Not a story that’s worth telling, really,” she told the man. Ouch. “Hello, Bellingham. Fancying your night?”
To anyone else, she might’ve sound polite. However, he knew it was a taunt. It was her mocking him, rubbing in his face her despise over him.
“Fancying it much more now with the sight of you,” Jude replied with a cocky grin. He knew he shouldn’t be acting like that and that it’d only make everything worse, but he needed to get at least a reaction out of her. To know there was still something she felt about him, even if it was buried deep down. Anything.
She just scoffed. It was clear that, if she could ignore his presence, she would. Perhaps he should’ve thought before moving his feet.
“I suppose you and I should talk,” Jude said after clearing his throat.
“I suppose that, if I wanted to talk to you, I’d have replied to your texts.”
Good point, he thought.
“I’m back.” Jude blurted out, his voice sounding too firm for someone who just said something his mind didn’t process. Being impulsive yet again, as if it wasn’t exactly why he ended up in this situation.
“I’m not.” She said with a sarcastic smile. Her date stared at her and then glanced at Jude, finally placing the pieces of the puzzle together. She must’ve talked about her situation with him, because he didn’t look that excited about Jude anymore. In fact, he seemed displeased.
“Well, I think you should be,” Jude said and looked into her eyes. “And I think we should talk.”
She rolled her eyes. Thankfully, she knew him enough to know that he wouldn’t give up until they had a proper conversation, even if that meant she’d throw everything he had done in his face. Even if that meant all he’d get from her was sarcastic, snarky comments. She muttered an apology to her date, promising she would be back soon enough. Jude guided her somewhere a little far from the man, giving him a glance before staring at her.
“Did you really have to interrupt my date?” She asked with annoyance. He had forgotten how beautiful she could look when she was angry and how kissable her lips could turn.
“Please,” Jude rolled his eyes. “Is that who you’re fucking with? You could do better than him.”
“First of all,” she raised her fingers. “That’s none of your business. And second, doing better than him definitely isn’t doing you.”
He had it coming.
“Look, I fucked up—”
“And I don’t want to hear your lame excuses. I’m not in the mood.” She cut him off and he sighed, one hand running through his hair.
“I’m back. You said it was a break, didn’t you?” He asked, his tone more possessive now, allowing emotions to take control of him. “Let them know I’m back. Whoever it is you’re fucking with, I’m back.”
She stopped for a second, her brain processing his words. She didn’t see it coming, and neither did he.
“Did you seriously think I’d wait for you?” She asked, looking into his brown eyes. God, he’d do almost anything to have her looking in the soft, affectionate way she did. He forgot how cold she could be when she wanted to, and how it used to spread though her expressions.
“I’m not dumb,” he replied and looked away for a second, glancing once again at the man that was far away from them, scrolling through his phone as he waited for her. “Is he keeping you satisfied, mama?”
“Mama?” She scoffed. “Ask my undone sheets, asshole.”
“So he touched you before you came here?” Jude asked, his jaw tightening. Technically, it was none of his business. Technically, he wasn’t allowed to feel like that. Technically, she was never his.
Technically.
“Since when are you this inconvenient and nosy?” She asked, not bothering to answer his question. He bit his lip, the thought of someone else having touched her before he even got the chance to see her that day killing him.
“Since I decided I’m coming back for good.” He replied firmly.
“You’re not coming back. There’s no fixing what you did.” She retorted. He didn’t even realize how heated the argument got, nor how his body instantly leaned closer to hers.
He was at her mercy, but of course she didn’t know that. How could she after what he did?
“There’s nothing broken, so of course there’s no fixing.” He said and she raised her eyebrows, read, to throw some sarcastic remark, but he continued: “It’s unfinished. It’s different.”
“It’s very finished. It’s over. Over.” She said in a somewhat aggressive tone.
Oh, how he wanted to just grab her by the arms and shut her up. He was always good at doing that.
“You know what pretty? Words are coming out of your mouth, but I just can’t seem to listen to them.” Jude smirked. “Wanna talk closer to my face? Maybe put some sense into me, hm?”
“If I get any closer to your face, it’ll be to slap you.”
He was finally getting a reaction from her.
“I wouldn’t mind. I kind of deserve it, after all.” He shrugged. “You know it makes no sense you and whoever that guy is.”
“Edward. His name is Edward.”
“Great. Another reason why it makes no sense.” Jude grinned and held back a chuckle from his own sentence. “Did I fuck up that badly that you just chose a guy named Edward? Thought you had gone through your Twilight phase when you were a child.”
She shook her head. He could see that even her wanted to laugh at his joke. She probably would, if it was someone else saying it.
“Yeah, you did fuck up that badly.” She replied and he could feel a pang hurt in his chest. His expression quickly faltered, and he took a deep breath.
“Princess, I’ll be fully honest with you,” Jude said, feeling like this could be the only time she’d hear him, now he had broken one of her walls down. “I won’t lie and say I was a saint in the meantime. I won’t even say that you’re wrong about the intentions I had when I wanted to break things off, but not enough for you to leave. But to say I’m regretting is an understatement. Can’t find you anywhere.”
She sighed. She had known his intentions from the moment he tried to keep her around, despite apparently not wanting to be with her anymore
“Took you losing me to find that out?” She asked, her voice vulnerable.
“No,” Jude quickly replied, shaking his head and caressing her cheek to try to calm her down. He didn’t even know how she allowed him to touch her. “No, baby. I knew it when I had you, I just—” he sighed. “I was dumb. So dumb. And blind, as well.”
She sighed as well, taking a step back a Jude’s hand slowly left her face. The distance that was created made his heart ache. He wanted to be able to touch her again, to hold her. To rebuild the trust that he had wrecked.
“Just because you realized that you were dumb and what you actually lost,” she looked at him. “Doesn’t mean I’m taking you back. I’m sorry— well, not really. I do think you deserve it, but I don’t mean to harm you by not taking you back. It’s not out of spite, it’s just—”
“I broke your trust,” Jude finished her sentence and she nodded. He knew about her trust issues, and she had warned him so many times. In fact, she had warned him about everything that was happening; how, if they ever broke what hey had up, he’d be the one losing. How she knew her worth, how she wouldn’t come back. And how her good opinion, once lost, was lost forever.
Still, he gave her a soft smile.
“I get it. I do. And I also think I deserve it,” Jude bit his lip. “But I can be persistent. And, also, I have your coat back home. I can always use that as an excuse.”
She rolled her eyes and he chuckled. He was certain she had forgotten about her coat and would now be asking for it back. At least, he had a proper excuse to text her and to try to meet her again. Alone, preferably, not with the company of another man.
“Go back to him,” he said, his tone lower now as she began to walk away. He was defeated, but the war wasn’t over. Not yet, not now. “But princess?”
And, for some unbeknownst reason, she looked up at him when he called her by her nickname.
“Don’t let him touch you,” Jude said, and she knew what he meant. “You and I, we’re not done. You want war, then I’ll show you what’s in store. But this is not over.”
The words escaped her lips before even she could fully process them. It was almost a whisper — a sign of utter defeat, of how much she had struggled and how much she could not take another second of being with him. There was no amount of affection that could mend what the situation had done to her, no amount of luck that could change their fate and, most definitely, no amount of effort he could have shown at that moment that would make her change her mind. It was too late for anything.
If he had listened to her attempts of communication, if he did not dismiss her feelings, if he took her more seriously… A series of ifs that only involved things he could have done.
She had tried to stay with him as long as she could, even if she felt, from the start, that she was doomed from the second her heart beat a little faster at the thought of him. After all, who would hate themselves enough to fall for Jude Bellingham, knowing his reputation, knowing the amount of women he had around on their knees, knowing him?
She thought she knew him, she really did. At least, better than others. They had met at a strange moment in their lives, where a relationship would never fit. That was never what they wanted.
Jude had recently gotten out of a relationship, whereas she was avoiding any sort of relationship for more than a year. Each one had their motivations, and one thing was clear: no relationship was a rule.
So, she didn’t mean to when she realized she was falling for him. In fact, it was nerve-wrecking — constantly beating herself up and trying to smack some sense into her own head; anything that would bring her back to reality. And like that, without knowing her feelings were reciprocated, she created a distance between them, leaving room only for her anxiety.
As her sorrow eyes met his desperate ones, she remembered. Flashes of how they ended up like that flooding into her head without her permission.
“So,” Jude said once. They were at her place — something they used to do quite often. He didn’t like bringing attention to himself and he wasn’t one to take any woman to his place, considering how the press could be if someone saw.
She didn’t know much about Jude. All she knew was that he was a good kisser, a nice company and someone that would provide her aftercare. She couldn’t ask for much more than that.
But one thing she did know — he was confident. Not that she wasn’t, but he was cocky. And, judging by the way he nervously held his thumb, she knew something wasn’t right.
“So?” She asked, tilting her head, looking at him gently.
“I—” he gulped and let out a nervous chuckle. “Look, don’t get me wrong. I know we said it was only a casual thing, but I’ve always been a man that liked, you know, talking to more than one woman.”
She nodded, furrowing her eyebrows, trying to predict what he was going to say.
“What I want to say is—” he took a deep breath. “I don’t feel like talking to any other woman but you. I haven’t, actually, since this whole arrangement started. I know it’s only been a month, but—”
She laughed and he raised her eyebrows. She held his hand with an affection she hadn’t shown yet.
“Jude, it’s okay. I haven’t been with anyone else or even did as much as looking at anyone else ever since I’ve been with you,” she reassured him.
“Thank God.” He sighed happily, relieved.
The first and only rule was already broken.
“I can’t do this, you know. Can’t have a relationship. It’s not your fault, I just can’t do this sort of commitment at this point of my life.” Jude said while looking at her. She didn’t know where that came from.
They were peacefully taking a walk on a park close to her place. The cold breeze and the way his words somehow felt like a dagger made her shiver and cross her arms, not looking at him.
“I’ve never—” she tried to say. “We were never—”
What could she say? That they were nothing? That wasn’t the truth.
“I’ve never asked a relationship from you. I don’t even— want a relationship. We had talked about that since the beginning,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows. Did she do something that made him think otherwise?
“Let’s be honest with each other for a second.” He said and stopped her, turning her around to look at him “This whole thing is running out of our control. I can’t do this. There’s no way I can have a serious relationship, one with actual commitment. I need to stop this before it gets to a point that I’ll hurt you.”
She swallowed. Despite her best efforts to hide how that hurt, maybe she was giving it away.
She didn’t want a relationship. They were in the same page.
But she was never the one to insist. Never the one to run after someone. In fact, her entire life, all she did was running away.
That’s all she knew how to do.
So, she just accepted it.
She sighed when she heard the knock on her door, her face twisted with annoyance. For some reason, Jude decided he wanted to see her and asked her to dress up nicely — something he knew she always did, but maybe he just wanted her to create some expectation and, perhaps, not dislike him as much as she was disliking him at that moment.
When she opened the door, he was standing there with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and in a perfect tuxedo. She would’ve sighed, if it wasn’t for the last conversation they had.
“You think you can buy me flowers and what? Problem solved?” She asked, not bothering to hide how much his presence maddened her.
“No. I know you better than that,” Jude said carefully, knowing he had to think well before speaking if he wanted to still be in her life. “But I can still buy you flowers, right? I know you like peonies. And I also like to think that’s a decent way to greet a woman you’d like to take on a date.”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“On a date?” She asked in disbelief. “I thought dates were too couple-ish for you.” She mocked him.
He sighed deeply.
“I was wrong, alright?” He said and run a hand through his hair. “Well, not that wrong. The situation is getting out of hand and we’re breaking every rule we made up, but you’re right, this isn’t like I’m dating you. Still, I’d love to have you on my life and for things to be… the way they were before I fucked up.”
She sighed, crossing her arms.
“My ex showed up that day and I just got nervous; I think.” He looked down. “I had never liked someone this fast, you know? I don’t know how it happened to us. But when she showed up, everything I was afraid of suddenly came back and I just— almost ruined us. Whatever this is.” He looked at her. “But you're not her, and I like you so, so fucking much. Can I, please, have the honor of a second chance?”
“It’s the only one you’re having.” She said as she grabbed the bouquet. “Nice choice of flowers.”
He opened the sweetest, most genuine smile.
“Things are so much easier when I’m with you. I wish it was always like this. That I could take you everywhere,” Jude said.
They were stargazing in her backyard, laying on the soft grass. His head was on her chest as she caressed his hair. They didn’t need to look at each other and he didn’t need to see her eyes to know how she felt — he could hear her heartbeat. It was more than enough.
He was going through a rough patch; she knew that much. And she didn’t know how to fix it, how to help him — it was out of her reach to do such a thing and he would hate if she even tried. His pride always took a tool on him, used to suffering in silence.
“I know.” She sighed softly. “I like being with you, if that helps. You’re my favorite person to talk to.”
“I hope I am,” he chuckled softly. “That’s why we’re sort of together, right?”
“Right,” she nodded. Things seemed so easier and intimate when they were like that. She felt his soft locks against her fingers and sighed once again. “But only sort of together.” She teased him.
“You’re annoying,” he joked.
“Touché.”
“Why are you so mad at me?!” Bellingham exclaimed, trying to run after her as she made her way out of the nightclub. He tried to reach for her arm and called out her name. “Stop, please.”
She stopped. Why was she still agreeing with anything he told her to do, anyway? Even when she couldn’t think straight, even when she was tipsy from all the alcohol she had consumed. Since when he became such a strong influence in her life that she would just submit to what he said? Why didn’t she leave?
Why didn’t she run away?
She was so good at that.
“I just—” She looked up, trying to find a way to put her words together and make it make sense. “I hate seeing you surrounded by so many women. And it’s so clear how much you enjoy the attention.”
“I don’t—”
“You literally left me standing to go talk to whoever that woman was.”
“You’re exaggerating and you don’t want to listen to me. Why don’t you just breathe for one second?” He asked her. “Look, I might enjoy the attention, but I wouldn’t leave you standing anywhere. I told you, when this whole thing started, that you’d never have to worry about me hitting on someone in front of you.”
And, to her, it felt like they had taken every step back. He didn’t mean for his words to come out like that, really. He knew what she had gone through in her relationships and how much anxiety she could feel from liking someone. He wanted to reassure her and was managing to do the opposite.
“Yeah, the same way we told each other this would be nothing serious,” she scoffed. “And it really seemed like you were flirting with her. How come when it’s with me, I have to chill and take a deep breathe, but when you’re feeling like that, I have to keep explaining myself?”
He opened up his mouth, but no words left. She knew he’d say she was making a fuss over nothing.
“Good night, Bellingham,” she said before leaving the club, not bothering to look back.
That same day, thousands of pictures of him in the club came out. He wasn’t doing anything, but her heart broke a little bit more from how many women surrounded him.
He didn’t bother to explain.
In fact, he had ignored her for two weeks.
That’s how they ended up here.
“You’re joking, right?” Jude asked, though he knew her enough to know if she was bluffing or not. “I just told you all my problems and— that I need a break from us. I need to focus on other aspects of my life, I can’t afford the luxury of having space for anything romantic.”
She laughed dryly.
“And what am I supposed to do, huh? Shove my feelings right up my ass just because you want me to wait for you? Or even worse, be your friend?” She didn’t mean to sound that aggressive, but the two weeks of no contact were more than enough for her anxiety to overcome every good memory they had and replace them with thoughts that he didn’t even really care.
“I’m not asking to be your friend! Jesus, you’re so complicated!” Jude exclaimed.
“I'm not complicated!” She argued back. “I’m just tired of having to put your feelings on top of mine, of prioritizing you instead of myself. I know where this ends and I won’t submit myself to this. Not to this, not to you, not with you.”
“Please,” he sounded desperate. Pathetically desperate. He held her arm. “Don’t do this to me. Wait for me. I will come back, I swear to God.”
“And put my life on hold because you want me to?” She asked, looking up at him, showing how hurt she was by the whole situation.
“What if I’m losing the love of my life over something I cannot control?” He asked her in a whisper, his brown eyes meeting hers.
It was his last attempt, that was for sure. But he forgot just how good she was at walking away. Maybe it was her fault for always finding some excuse for his attitudes or even for forgiving him, in first place. Maybe she should've walked away when she realized she was catching feelings. Maybe she shouldn’t have allowed him a second chance.
A series of maybes that only involved things she could have done.
But one thing was for sure: she wasn’t going to break herself over anyone ever again. Despite how much she liked him, despite the part of her that was willing to wait — she had been through too much to do that to herself again. She didn’t know if it was worth it, not anymore.
“I’m not the love of your life, Jude.” She said and did what she was the best at: walking away.
content warning: minors dni, smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (do not practice)
As the last few bits of soap finally slid off her body, she reached for the spot her towel usually laid at... to find nothing.
“What?” She questioned herself, automatically trying to remember putting it there before her shower, only she couldn't. “Fuck!”
As if on cue, the door to the volleyball team's locker room opened and a highly obnoxious voice was heard. What was he even doing there? She didn't think he was looking for her, but also, not looking for anyone else either. Maybe trying to steal Gatorade again? Be what it may, she needed his help, so she had no other choice but to swallow her pride.
“Dominik! Dominik?” She called out, and his newly commenced whistling ended abruptly. “Dominik, is that you? Can you, uh, pass me a towel? No, make it two, please. Please?”
The sassy hungarian smirked to himself. “Well, well, well...” he said, approaching the stall from where the familiar voice was coming from. “Aren't you in a mess, darling?”
She sighed, already exasperated. “Please, just pass me the stupid towel, don't make a fuss out of it.”
“Fine,” he said, reaching for the white cloth in her locker and noticing the neatly folded clothes next to it. “But I'm taking your clothes with me. If you want them back, come by my dorm.” He added while tossing the towel over her shower stall door.
“What?! No!” She yelled, hurrying to get herself wrapped on the towel to try and chase after him before he left the locker rooms, but alas, he was long gone when she finally managed. She groaned in frustration, seeing no other exit than changing back into her volleyball uniform and looking for him.
His dorm was in the building next, just across the fields, but that meant having to walk by every single team training right then. The staring— the gawking, the wish to give herself to the first jock she saw just to take some revenge on Domi.
No, no. Clear thoughts, happy mind. She would just grab her clothes and walk right out, back into the shower of her own apartment.
Three knocks were enough as she planned to annoy him into opening the door, but he seemed to be waiting right behind it for her. His face, it's obvious he's trying to remain serene and expressionless, but seeing her in her uniform is not what he expected at all.
He collects his thoughts as she lets herself in, scanning the room for any trace of her garments. “You changed back into your sweaty kit?” There's judgement in his tone, although it's slightly forced, and she notices.
“Yeah. Couldn't walk here naked,” she replies, a sigh following her words. “Although, with the way those jocks were looking at me, you would've assumed I was. Three of those... Football players tried to take a bite of me.”
Those words do not sit right with him at all. It was not what he had planned at all.
“Do you not have a backup outfit?” He asks, letting the slightest desperation in his tone be heard. She's definitely amused.
“Not on Fridays. It's laundry day,” she replies simply, adding a shrug between sentences. “Now, if you'd be so kind to give me my clothes, cause I need to go shower again, thanks to you.”
He doesn't say anything for a couple seconds, instead walks up to her from behind. “No, I don't think I will,” he speaks, slow and sure of his words. She sighs again.
“But Dominik, I—” His hands turn her around and he presses her body against his, his hand gripping her ass tightly. Oh, how much he loves her volleyball kit.
“No. You know, I have a shower here...” he suggests, hand now on her lower back but sliding down as he means to pick her up. She realizes this, and takes just a bit of impulse from the floor to help him, wrapping her legs around his waist. She stares at his unreadable expression as he marches towards his bathroom, definitely nicer than those locker room showers. “We could, you know... save some water.”
Her back is pressed against the wall as he suddenly opens the faucet on them, cold water soaking them as it slowly becomes warmer. More sudden, though, is the contact of his lips on hers as he desperately and hungrily wishes to reclaim her as his. He's tugging on the sides of her definitely-too-short lycra bottoms, trying to pull them off. Success, then her soft skin growing wetter as her tops are pulled off afterwards. His own white shirt is half buttoned up, but he's quickly undoing every button to throw it in the corner with her uniform. His trousers are next to go and he also pulls them off along with his gray Calvins. His lips have barely left hers in the process, though problematic at times, he manages to keep on kissing her as she sits on his shower ledge, next to his hair care products.
His mouth now moves to kiss her neck, slowly, devilishly. Her head is softly thrown back as he licks fire up her throat, at least it feels like it. Her legs spread for him when his fingers finally touch her— and that's it. She's gone, there's no point in fighting him –or at least pretending to– anymore. No point in faking a disgust for him and his mouth and his hands and his everything, he thought he had lured her into this, but in reality she had brought herself as a sacrifice.
His finger pumps in and out of her needy core as she moans, softly at first, trying to hold back and not demonstrate how good it actually felt. He adds a second one, and the holding back grows harder, just like him. His fingers waltz in her like they belong (and maybe, they do), she can't pretend it's not heavenly anymore. Fuck it comes suddenly out of his mouth, and he pulls his fingers out of her and gets down as best as he can. Water runs down his head and face as he devours her, her gentle moans becoming louder and more desperate with every stroke of his tongue on her. It's messy, it's uncomfortable, and yet it's the most toe curling orgasm she has ever had in her entire life. Her hands pull at his hair desperately, shuddering with pleasure as he tries to continue.
But his fingers weren't enough for her, and he was so egotistical to know it. He didn't even give her two seconds to recompose herself after taking her further from over the edge, he got up with shaky legs and pulled her into him. His dick slid into her so easily, you could think they were two matching pieces of a puzzle. He cursed out loud, throwing his head back before looking down at it. She was biting her lip, also looking down and then up at him. He could pull her and have her against the wall again, and so he did, bottoming out in the process while she clawed at the skin of his shoulders and moaned his name so loud, surely the people from his floor would recognize him by name from now on.
The pace that Dominik set wasn't even, no, it kind of picked up and slowed back down depending on how he felt—having her always compromised his durability. He kissed her neck, hard, biting even, trying to silence himself from the pleasured groans that were escaping him.
“I can't take it, I can't,” she cried. “S'too much,” and she moaned in desperation. Her neck had now several light purple marks, and his back was adorned with abstract lines of pink and red scratches.
“You can, babygirl, you can. Be good for me, take it, yes?” He spits out between thrusts, heavy breaths and low groans. Against her better judgement, she found herself nodding, her eyes tightly shut and her eyebrows knit into a very deep frown.
Her pussy clenched around him, something she had no control over at all. Still, it annoyed him, it felt so heavenly good he knew he wasn't gonna last much longer. “Fuck, princess. You feel so fucking good...” he praised. “Too good, I can't hold back much longer.” He warned this as his thrusts became sloppy.
Where did the hate go? Who blurred the lines? Did he even want the lines to be traced again? No, he most certainly didn't. Not when she was moaning in his ear, and her legs were wrapped around him, and her fucked out face was his and only his. Not when she was taking him in full without crying, not when she was coming undone for him again. He was definitely not going to let her go again. Fuck that stupid rivalry.
“Good girl, fuck,” he says to her in a soft tone. His hand comes up to push a few wet strands of hair off of her face. “You look so pretty when I fuck you.”
“I look pretty always,” she replies, breathless. He smirks.
His thrusting hasn't died down, and so a few strokes later he's desperately putting her back on her feet and pulling out, jerking off rapidly and letting his cum fall to the wet floor as he groans. As she's so suddenly standing again, she holds onto his shoulders to maintain balance.
He's trembling, breathing heavily as she observes the last few drops of his release gather on his tip, he rinses them off quickly.
“Now I guess we should shower for real,” he laughs.
(content warning: smut, fingering, unprotected sex [have safe sex pls])
ps: it's been a while since i wrote smut pls be nice about it
“Bellingham, we shouldn’t-”
“Save your regret for later, princess,” he cut her off, quickly finding her lips into a sloppy kiss.
Pinned against the wall, with his muscular body pressed against hers, she knew salvation wouldn’t come. There was no god, no force of the nature that could stop what was bound to happen. That could stop them.
“We both are going to regret this,” she mumbled between the kiss, her voice hoarse and low, panting. Why was she even trying to deny it?
“Jesus, princess. Can you shut your fucking mouth for a second?” He asked with a small smirk, his breath sparse. “So feisty. Always wanting to have the last word, always wanting to control everything…”
As the taunting words left Jude’s mouth, his right hand started moving slowly. From her neck to her collarbones, to the valley of her breasts, to her lower belly, applying just enough pressure to hear her pant once again. To hear her losing control, losing her morals and everything she had ever believed happened between them.
“Let it go,” he whispered in her ear, his plump lips brushing against her ear and gently biting her earlobe. “Let it go, doll. Let me take care of you.”
Everything was a mess. This wasn’t the moment nor the place for this to happen. She wasn’t even supposed to do as much as look at him. But something about his unbuttoned social shirt and his now wrinkled suit, the intoxicating smell of his expensive cologne and that goddamn smirk of his made her brain stop working, being guided by something so primal that she had yet to understand.
“It’s- a fucking club bathroom. Anyone could come in-”
Jude just groaned, annoyed and frustrated. He knew he had chosen the only woman who wouldn’t want to take him tonight – but he also knew that was merely a façade. If she thought he didn’t notice her lingering stares, the way she’d hold her breath next to him whenever she was slightly caught by surprise and the desire in her eyes, she was so wrong.
“Let them fucking come. They’ll see me and leave in the same instant. I don’t fucking care if there’ll be headlines about my behavior tomorrow.” He said, staring into her eyes, his tone firm. “Let me take care of you. Know you need it. See right through you, princess.”
She opened her mouth to come with a smart retort, but he was quicker. Jude’s hands went to the back of her thighs, suddenly pulling her and lifting her of the ground with ease. Guiding her to the sink countertop and gently placing her there – perhaps the only gentle act he had and would have throughout the night.
“The more you talk, the more I’ll want to shut you up,” he warned her with a husky tone, his finger under her chin to make sure she was looking at him. “And that’ll just make me tease you more and not give you what you want.”
She gulped and gave him a small nod. She’d never say it out loud, she’d never give him the pleasure of agreeing with him. So difficult, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. After all, he was more than pleased with the challenge of making her scream his name to prove otherwise.
“Good,” he said, his thumb tracing her bottom lip as she looked at him. Uncertainty, desire and frustration placed behind her eyelids. He could see all of that. “You’re so pretty. So desirable,” he whispered, his mouth so close to hers that she could feel his breath. “Wouldn’t want you spending the night with anyone else. It’d fucking kill me, princess.”
She barely remembered how they ended up in that bathroom. How they went from barely looking at each other to this closeness in the span of a few hours. She knew she had drunk as much as him – they wouldn’t be there otherwise. Not when they’ve always claimed to hate each other. If they were in their right minds, they wouldn’t even be in the same room.
She remembered having a man hitting on her as she drank. He was attractive, for sure, but nothing that would make her give him any attention. She remembered smoking her strawberry mango vape when Jude abruptly took it out of her hand when he wasn’t even that close a few moments before. His tight grip on her wrist, not enough to hurt her, but enough to keep it there, guiding her away from the man, was something she couldn’t forget.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She asked him with annoyance as he guided them to a more secluded spot. God, she hated admitting it, but he looked so good in formal clothes.
“Taking you away from that fucking douchebag that was eating you with his eyes,” he retorted, the anger clear in his tone as he gave her back her vape. She quickly put it in her purse. “You have to stop smoking that crap, as well.”
“I’m sorry, but since when did you feel entitle to control my life in any way whatsoever?” She asked with a sarcastic smile, annoyed at his attitude.
“If you think, for a second, I’d let you leave the club with that guy, with someone that’s not even close to your level-” he stopped once he realized what had said. He licked his lips and sighed, his hands resting on his waist as she looked at him with confusion.
“Who would be close to my level, then?” She asked with crossed arms, tilting her head.
Jude just gave her a small, cocky grin that he always carried with him. Thank God for his drinks, because only then he’d have the courage to retort her so easily.
“Who do you think, princess?”
After that, it was all blurry. A mix of tongues against each other, the taste of his strong drinks, his cologne, his hands pulling her closer. The anger, the frustration, the desire – until stumbling upon the bathroom because they had no other choice when lust controlled them so easily.
The feeling of the cold tiles of the countertop and Bellingham’s confession brought her back to the moment, looking into his eyes.
“I wasn’t going to leave the club with him,” she said, her eyes falling to his mouth. So, so close that she could reminisce the taste of it. “I wasn’t going to leave the club with anyone.”
Jude seemed rather pleased by her reply, his body finding a way to be even closer to hers. Despite always trying to say they hated each other; it was always the same – like magnets being drawn. All they had been doing, this whole time, was prolongating the inevitable. He was fucking tired of it.
“Good,” he whispered, his hand slowly travelling to the insides of her thighs, dangerously close to her warmth. She held back a whimper and he grinned at the sight. It was almost as if she was already coming undone from a single movement. “Wouldn’t want anyone but me to have the privilege.”
She looked up at Jude, suddenly realizing how big he was, how easily he was towering her and she could barely see past his long shoulders. With a sudden movement, her arms were now resting on his shoulders, caressing them.
“Need you to say it’s mine, darling. Would you do that for me, hm?” He whispered in her ear, expecting a tantrum, some remark to show how bratty she was. But his fingers were too close to her core for her to even come up with something that smart.
“That what is yours?,” was the best she could come up with, acting innocent despite the way her voice cracked.
Jude, in response, only looked deeply into her eyes as he pressed two fingers to her covered warmth, feeling the damp that was formed.
“That this is mine.” He spoke lowly, pressing his fingers even harder, earning a gasp from her as her eyelids shut, as if she was still trying to hold herself back. To gather some self-control.
“It’s yours,” she whispered. Jude thought about demanding her to speak louder, but it was already so much than he ever expected her to say.
His middle finger tossed her underclothing to the side, his index finger already moving over to her clits with enough pressure, in slow, circle motions.
“Already so wet, princess. All that denial and for what?” Bellingham chuckled lowly, almost as if as taunting her, as if his own underwear wasn’t feeling extremely tight. “Tell me what you want.”
She sighed. She had been holding back for so long that she decided that it wasn’t time to play around anymore.
“Want you to fuck me,” she said, looking into his deep brown eyes in a silent plea.
And how could he ever deny her anything when she was looking at him like that?
He inserted two digits into her core, moving them around her walls, trying to know which spot pleasured her the most just from the way she had to shut her eyelids strongly. She felt so warm and looked so desperate that the bulge in his pants became even more apparent, if that was possible.
“I wish I could just slam myself into you right now,” he whispered in her ear as his fingers began to distance from each other inside her, scissoring her slowly as she gasped. “But I need to get you prepped. Don’t want to hurt you that much.”
When Jude said, her eyes fell to the prominent bulge, realizing how big he actually was and whimpering just from imagining. He chuckled against her ear as she clenched around his fingers, knowing exactly what went on inside her head.
After realizing she was almost about to cum on his fingers, Jude took them off her and she whimpered again at the sudden emptiness. He sucked his fingers as the other hand undid his belt in a single, quick motion. She rushed to help to unbutton his pants, and even more eagerly to help him take his underwear off just enough so his cock would jump out.
As it sprung out, she watched it in all its rigidness. It was bigger than she expected, and his tip was already leaking with precum. It hit her, then, that Jude was just as vulnerable and desperate as she was.
Her hand quickly grabbed his cock, moving slowly and spreading his precum around it so her movements came with more ease. To his own surprise, he moaned, not being able to hold back anymore.
Jude gripped around her wrist, taking her hand away from his member and lining his hips with her entrance. His tip teased her once, twice, threatening to finally go inside her. Eager and impatient, she moved her hips, so he was finally inside her.
He moved slowly as she felt like she was burning from inside out, having a hard time adjusting to his size. As he finally bottomed inside her, Jude gave her some time to get used to it. When she gave him a small nod, that’s when he started moving.
“Shit,” he mumbled in her ear, trying his best to not go too hard. She clenched around him, whimpering and moaning, not bothering anymore to hide a single sound. It was driving him insane. “You feel so, so good.”
“Jude,” she called him out, her eyes closed. He thought it was the prettiest sight he had ever seen – her hair all messy, her dress wrinkled, panting and desperate. If he wasn’t in the same state, he would be taunting her. Usually, that was how he was. But, for some reason, it was different with her. He needed to be inside her.
He didn’t even realize when exactly his thrusts became harder and erratically. He only knew that because she was moaning his name more often, louder.
When he accidentally hit her sweet spot, she saw stars behind her eyes, arching her back and rolling her eyes. God, if she had more of this, she would drool. She couldn’t think – not at all, not when he was slamming into her walls like that.
“Jude, I’m-” she clenched tightly around him, and he moaned.
“I know, baby,” he was panting as well. He needed to make her cum, and perhaps, more desperately, to cum. He didn’t know for how long he could handle it. “Cum for me, princess. You’ve been such a good girl, taking my cock so well. Cum.”
It felt more like he was ordering than praising, but, as soon as she came, he spilled inside her walls.
“Fuck,” Jude said, trying his best to grab for air as his head fell to her shoulders. She caressed him softly. Even though they were both a mess and could barely breathe, he chuckled from her act. Smirking, he looked at her and said: “Was that all I needed to do for you to stop hating me?”
