jude and reader find out shes pregnant meanwhile hes in dortmund around the beginning of his career. give me some angst but happy ending
I'm Here For You
Jude Bellingham x fem!reader - angst, fluff
a/n - in this reader and Jude are 17, also i decided to make this fic happen like right before Jude leaves to Germany, if you know my age you know my age lol, also for any not-english ppl, A levels is basically like the last two years of highschool
masterlist
c/w - unexpected pregnancy, abortion mention, crying but it ends in comfort, teenage love
You met Jude at a house party that you almost didn't go to, back when you were both fifteen.
He was leant against a kitchen counter looking like he didn't want to be there, cracking jokes with his mates and sneakily spilling his drink into the houseplant next to him.
Somehow you both ended up talking for the entire night while everyone else got progressively louder and messier.
You were both still deep in GCSEs at the time, and neither of those things should have mattered but somehow talking to him felt easier than talking to anyone you'd known your whole life.
By the end of the night he awkwardly asked for your number which you still brought up to embarrass him now.
And that was that — two years had gone by and you couldn't remember what your life had looked like before he was in it.
—
The tricky part had always been his parents. They were really sweet but they did not allow him to date. It was mostly to do with football — he wasn't supposed to focus on romance when he had a whole career in front of him.
Girlfriends were distractions and his mum and dad did not take that with a grain of salt which was a bit too annoying for either of your liking.
So the two of you had gotten creative.
He climbed through your window more nights than either of you could count, texted you constantly during early mornings before his parents were even awake, found excuses to be near your school gates at the exact time you finished so it looked coincidental.
You went to nearly every match he played, and sat in the stands with his number on the back of a jacket he'd given you, and afterwards you would wait by the changing rooms so you could be with him.
Sneaking around for two years should not have worked but somehow it did.
—
You were doing your A-levels now, buried under coursework and mock exams with university applications looming on the horizon, and he was doing his BTECs.
You were both still going strong. Stronger than ever infact.
The way he'd turn up with your favourite cookies when you met up, the way he tested you on flashcards he didn't understand a word of whenever you asked him too. The way he made you laugh so hard that you would genuinely worry about dying due to a lack of air. The way he always did bad impressions of your friend group and sulked dramatically whenever you beat him at FIFA.
But underneath all the silliness there was something a lot more solid.
The way he would go quiet and serious when you were stressed and just hold you until you breathed properly, the way you knew that you loved him even though neither of you had said the actual words yet. It didn't felt necessary. You both already knew.
—
It was a late evening in June when you fully clocked that your period was five days late. Initially you didn't think too about it, which was, you were realising now, an incredibly stupid strategy.
It was your best mate who brought it up during a free period, she said that maybe you should take a test, just to be sure.
You laughed it off at the time but you weren't laughing now, sat on the edge of your bed with the little white stick face-down on your desk because you couldn't bear to look at it .
There were two pink lines.
—
Meanwhile Jude was eating dinner.
Dinner at Jude's house was usually loud and tonight was no different — Jobe was going on about some FIFA match he lost that he swore was rigged, his dad was making some comment about Jude's touch needing work in Saturday's game, and his mum was topping up her water while half-listening to both conversations at once.
Jude was half in the room himself, nodding along and throwing in the occasional word, his mind already halfway to Germany, the move looming over every ordinary moment like a shadow he couldn't quite shake. It was amazing that he was going to play for Borussia Dortmund but that meant that he would be away from you.
Suddenly he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.
He almost ignored it out of habit, used to his mates blowing up the group chat at all hours, but something made him check.
When your name lit up the screen his face softened.
His mum caught the look — she always did, she wasn't stupid — she raised an eyebrow slightly like she knew but said nothing as he mumbled an excuse and pushed back from the table. Jobe made a kissing noise under his breath that Jude decided to ignore.
He ran into his room and answered the call, excited to hear your voice but also confused as to why you were calling.
—
You didn't remember deciding to cry.
You just were, curled up against your headboard with your knees to your chest. It took you four tries to unlock your phone because your hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Jude picked up on the second ring, "Heya babe, why'd you call?"
The cheeriness in his voice broke your composure, the fact that he was oblivious to the hole that you were both in caused you to break into sobs.
Jude's heart broke when he heard the first sniffle, "Babe are you okay? What's wrong? What happened?"
You tried to answer and it just came out as a wet, broken sound.
You heard his chair scrape back on the other end, he was scrambling around his room for his backpack and you heard him running down the stairs.
When his parents asked where he was suddenly going he lied without even hesitating, he said that the lads were kicking a ball about at the park and he'd be back later. He was out the front door before anyone could question him furthur.
By the time he was outside and the door was shut you managed to speaks some actual words.
You told him about the test, the two lines. All of it, spilling out between hiccupping breaths while he stayed silent and listened.
"Have you done a second one?" he asked carefully.
"I can't. I can't go back to the shop Jude — I can't look the cashier in the eye again, I just—" You broke off, pressing your palm to your eyes. "I'm scared."
"Okay." A beat. Then, quieter, more to himself than to you: "Okay. I'm coming."
—
He ran the whole way, cutting through the estate instead of around it, his lungs burning like he just played a full match on a pitch.
Except this wasn't football and there was no whistle to make it stop, it was just the thought of you sat alone in your room with mascara down your face.
He did a quick detour into the Tesco on the corner, grabbed a test off the shelf and then grabbed the cookies you liked, the ones with white chocolate and strawberry.
He almost ran past the football ground when he saw a patch of daffodils growing along the fence.
He stopped to pick a rough handful of them, not caring how it looked: some seventeen-year-old boy crouched by a fence in the dark picking flowers.
—
When he finally got to yours, your window was already unlatched for him.
He climbed through it quickly due perfecting this skill for the two years of sneaking in and out of your room, the cookies and daffodils and pregnancy test loosely in his backpack.
You were curled up in your bed, facing the wall and didn't hear him land, not until he said your name softly, "Reader..."
Your mascara had run down your cheeks and your eyes were red.
The second he saw your face properly his heart shattered.
He didn't say anything clever. He just held the daffodils out to you, a little crushed from the run, "I got you these, I know you like them." he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
That was what finally broke you — not the test, not the fear, but him, stood there out of breath with flowers in his hand because he cared.
You took the flowers and then you were in his arms, face pressed into his neck.
His hoodie was warm and smelt like him and he held like he never wanted to let go.
He didn't ask you to stop crying. He just let you, one hand moving slow up and down your back, murmuring that he was here and that he wasn't going anywhere.
—
Eventually you felt composed enough to do the second test.
As you entered the bathroom with him and realised that he didn't get the memo you let out a wet giggle, a sound that made him so happy to hear, "Jude — could you maybe turn around while I pee?"
Jude's face went very embarrassed as he realised he was following you around like a duckling, "Oh right — yea, sorry babe," He turned around facing the door as you sat down on the toilet.
Afterwards you were perched on the edge of the bathroom counter with himholding you hands as you waited for the result because you told him you didn't want to be alone.
He didn't look once, he just kept his hand wrapped around yours while you waited out the longest three minutes of your life.
"Jude?" You asked, your lip trembling slightly.
Jude's thumb traced circled onto your hand in a comforting manner, "Yes reader?"
"Could you look at the test first?"
Jude's breath hitched, he didn't know that you trusted him that much.
He slowly turned the test over.
Two lines again.
You both just looked at it for a second, then he pulled you back against his chest.
—
Back in your room, you were both wrapped in your duvet with the cookies half eaten, the daffodils were now placed in a glass of water on your nightstand.
Jude did what he did best — he made you laugh, badly-timed jokes and heinous impressions — until your crying softened into a tired, wobbly smile.
"I — I don't think I want to keep it." You said softy, looking away from his eyes as he help you. You could feel him breathing on your neck.
"That's okay." he replied, his lashes batting against your cheek.
"It's all going to be so different when your gone." you murmured, squeezing yourself into him a bit more. "You going to Germany, me staying here doing my A levels."
"Yea it is —" He admitted, "Sometimes I wish that we could just ignore all of this and just be with each other."
"Me too — I don't want to lose you Jude."
Jude smiled weakly, "We can make it work, it's a small time difference so we can still call every night, and I can send you gifts from Germany, and I'll be back during holidays and stuff."
"You smiled at this, knowing that you would both be okay.
Jude continued, "You'll smash you exams and go to uni, I'll be playing football, who knows... maybe I can finally tell my parents about you."
You let out a soft giggle at this, "I mean your parents like me already, I'm sure they would be delighted."
"Yea" Jude agreed, "You know, after the everyone left my house at that group hangout, my mum said that she thought you were really sweet and pretty, I was trying not to give anything away."
—
It was almost eleven when he pulled back to look at you properly, "I'll be there for you no matter what, you know that right?". His thumb was brushing the last dried tear track off your cheek.
There was a brief silence, the moment was just right.
He said it like it had been sitting in his chest for months, "I love you."
You couldn't help but break into a smile "I love you too — Oh God that was so fucking cheesy —"
Jude laughed and rolled his eyes, "Wow nice one."
His phone buzzed against the nightstand a second later: his mum's contact lighting up the screen interrupting the sentimental moment.
He groaned into your hair, already knowing the lecture that was coming, but neither of you moved, you just held on a little longer before he reached answer it.
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