#real madrid fc

[jvdebellingham]

i need to be held by him

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: Hi love! I was wondering if you could do a Jude x reader where they get into a VERY nasty argument and reader goes to sleep on the couch crying and wakes up with jude next to her on the couch! (anonymous - @neosfam)

Word Count: 678 words

(author's note: thank you for the request, my love 🫶)

Y/N and Jude never seemed to argue. They were both so similar and held the same views on everything, so there was never any need for them to fight. But this time was different. Jude had just blown her off again to go for a meal with his teammates, and she had finally had enough.

“I’m not saying I don’t want you to hang out with your friends, baby, you know I encourage you too. Its just we’ve had plans multiple times this week and you’ve cancelled on me every time to hang out with your friends.”

“I need them to like me Y/N, you don’t understand. So what I cancelled on a few plans, we can always reschedule? I don’t understand why you’re so annoyed?”

“Jude, I’m annoyed because it feels like I’m second best to your friends. I know how hard moving teams has been on you, and I get it. But it doesn’t mean you can push me aside and forget about me!” 

At this point, she felt like crying. Jude was normally so understanding, and she couldn’t understand why he was being like this.

“No, Y/N you don’t know how I feel. You don’t know anything.” 

With the final gut-wrenching line, Jude stomped upstairs, leaving his girlfriend crying in their kitchen. Y/N moved over to the sofa, grabbed a blanket, and tried to fall asleep.

Hours passed, and Jude felt awful. He was in disbelief with himself over how he had spoken to Y/N. He didn’t know what came over him. All he did know was how the guilt was slowly eating away at him. 

When Y/N didn’t come up to bed, Jude began to worry. He pushed the plush covers away from his body and quietly walked downstairs. When he saw his girlfriend curled up on their sofa, her cheeks still wet with tears, his heart broke. It was all his fault.

Jude moved over to where she was laid down and manoeuvered himself down next to her. He readjusted the blanket, so it covered them both and tried to fall asleep.

Y/N woke up to the early morning sun streaming in through the window. She felt something wrapped around her waist, and she turned around to see Jude sleeping peacefully behind her. All the pain from last nights argument resurfaced in her mind.

She removed his arms and got up. She turned the kettle on to boil and got a mug out of the cupboard. Once the water had boiled, she began preparing herself a cup of tea.

Stirring at the sound of the kettle, Jude sat up on the sofa. He rubbed his eyes, wiping the heavy weight of sleep away. He watched his girlfriend mill around their kitchen, preparing herself a drink and some breakfast.

“Good morning.” Jude said, breaking the thick silence that had settled over the room.

Y/N just nodded at him, barely acknowledging his presence. She continued making her food, determined to ignore Jude. 

Jude knew that she was still upset. He didn’t blame her. Y/N had poured her heart out to him and alerted him she she was upset and he had responded with spiteful comments and aggression.

“Look, I know you’re angry. You have plenty of reasons to be angry. But I just want you to know that I’m so sorry. I should never have spoken to you like that, especially when you were only telling me how you felt. I understand now that I’ve been a complete idiot.”

Y/N stopped what she was doing and turned to face him. 

“You have been a complete idiot. But I know how much pressure you’re under. I accept your apology, but please don’t ever act like that again. That isn’t the Jude I know and love.”

He nodded at her words, thankful that Y/N had accepted his apology. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead. Jude made a silent promise to himself to never argue with the woman he loved so dearly ever again.

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 1 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: part one is here, enjoy! <3

W/C: 3.398

Introduction

"Can you try smiling this time?"

I mumble, holding myself back from rolling my eyes in annoyance. I click my tongue, standing behind Luis, my close friend and cameraman.

"The photo needs to be edited later, for sure. Looks a little off compared to the others." I tell Luis, sending an insult to the man in front of the camera, in English for him to hear.

Even so, Luis and I usually spoke English to each other. It being a language we were both very well versed in.

Jude doesn't even look like he wants to be here, at all. He wouldn't be the only one, that was for sure. 

"That's good enough, Bellingham. You can go." I say, folding my arms up to my chest.

"Finally." He mutters, rolling his eyes, the Brummie accent, which was quite new to me, rolling off his tongue.

He raises his hands, smoothing down his shirt, before nodding at Luis with a smile and leaving, not acknowledging me per usual.

"Douchebag." I mumble, solely for myself to hear, but I notice Luis glancing at me.

"What?" I ask, rolling the papers in my hands into a tube out of boredom. The letters curving with the bend of the paper.

"You two are becoming more insufferable every day." He says, going to wipe his camera lens with a microfiber cloth. He treated his cameras like his actual children.

"Not my fault." I reply through clenched teeth, placing a hand on my hip.

"You spilled an entire americano on his brand new, white kit. On his first day here." He says, recalling the embarrassing and aggravating incident.

"It was just an accident!" I retort, unfolding the papers again. "We could have moved on from that after I apologized, but he's decided to be an asshole about it."

So, who was the insufferable one here?

He doesn't say anything else, an uninterested sigh leaving his lips as he distracts himself with the lens.

I saw Luis as the older brother I never had, but he wasn't even taking my side in the situation.

Traitor.

I huff, turning away and looking around the pitch for some entertainment I could turn into content.

My eyes catch the players of the club warming up a couple meters away.

Easy content, my favorite.

"Can I get a camera?" I nudge Luis, his eyes looking up at mine.

"Should I trust you with one?" He says, voice unsure.

"Yes, just give me the smaller one." I usher, holding my hand out in anticipation.

He sighs again, grabbing the requested camera out of his equipment bag.

"Two hands." He mutters.

I roll my eyes, grabbing the camera with the apparently very necessary, two hands.

"I'll take care of your child." I mock, smile tugging at my lips as I see him get annoyed.

"Chill, I've got it." I add, walking away from him.

I was being serious, of course.

Firstly, I wanted these shots to come out perfectly. Secondly, I didn't want to get killed by him for ruining his precious camera. I had enough enemies in this club already. Losing an ally wasn't on my bingo list this season.

I turn the camera on clumsily, pointing it at the training players as I'm standing behind the goal.

How the hell does a small camera weigh this much? It genuinely felt like a bag of rocks weighing down on my arms.

I try to ignore the heaviness of the camera, filming the individual shooting of the players. Moving the camera when necessary.

I stand there for a moment, before I hear Luis come up to me, finally taking the camera out of my hands.

"How the hell do you even hold these cameras? My arm almost went numb." I say, rubbing my tired arm as I look at him.

"I go to the gym, unlike you- and I'm used to it by now." He replies, focusing on filming.

The urge to say something petty back is interrupted as Camavinga suddenly yells at us, our heads snapping up.

« Tu filmes? » are you filming?

He shouts in French, standing in his position.

I used to whine and complain about having to take French back in school, but now I was genuinely grateful for it. It was very useful now, even though I had forgotten a great chunk of it.

"Want us to?" I shout back in English, ignoring the fact that we are shouting back and forth like maniacs. He nods, giving us a thumbs up.

"Yeah, go ahead." I nudge Luis, making him film again. I grab him, making him take a step back for safety, watching Cama receive the ball and shoot, hitting the net perfectly.

I cheer quietly, not wanting to disturb the audio of the footage as he smiles back at me, walking back to stand and watch the other players.

I have been working in the marketing and PR department at Real Madrid for about two years now. The club and players were generally very nice to work with, which made my job so much better.

It wasn't my permanent job. I had just started my third year of my law degree this new school year, combining online classes with this job. Balancing did get difficult at times, but I liked the fact that it kept me busy and motivated.

"Think we're good to go." Luis says, interrupting my thoughts as he points his camera downward.

"You sure?" I ask, whipping my head around.

"Yeah, the sun is about to melt us and the camera. Come on, let's go inside." He says, grabbing my wrist and dragging me away from the pitch

"If you read this sentence, does it sound like I know what I'm talking about?" I ask Lina, her face scrunching up almost instantly. 

I was confident enough to write this essay on my own, really, but having a friend keep me company made it way more fun. 

"You know I don't like thinking about school. That's in the past for me." She says, her hands coming up in front of her defensively. 

"Come on, please? I'll grab a drink for you in a minute." I beg, placing my hands on her shoulders, shaking her back and forth.

"Make it two."

"Deal."

"Okay, show me." She says, shoving a piece of pineapple into her mouth, grabbing my laptop and leaning forward as I repeat the question. 

She types away for a second, adding a few words before turning to me after reading the sentence again. 

"What are you writing? The damn Magna Carta? What kind of essay is this?" She asks, her eyebrows raised. 

"It's about EU law." I sigh, I liked this subject, it was very interesting, but I couldn't wait to be done with this fifteen page essay. 

"Explains a lot." She says, shoving another piece of fruit into her mouth. Her fork suddenly appearing in front of my face, a piece of watermelon spiced onto it. 

"Thanks." I mutter, biting off the piece of fruit as I hear commotion in the hallways. 

"Get me my drinks, please?" She asks, blinking at me. I roll my eyes, push my laptop back and get up. 

"Let me guess, a lime soda and an orange juice?" 

"You got it." She winks, smiling at me. 

I chuckle at her, looking up as I watch the players pile into the cafeteria. 

"Lunchtime?" I mouth at Lina, she checks the time on her phone, nodding. 

I make my way to the bar, extending my arms up to grab two cups. The feeling of someone's hand on mine catching me off guard as I immediately let go of the cup. Turning around to see Jude right behind me. 

"What are you doing?" I ask, sending him a nasty look. Invading my personal space wasn't enough, now he wants to steal my cup?

"Grabbing a cup?" He retorts in a menacing tone, sending a glare back. 

I look at him, watching him fill his stolen cup with water, before he looks at me again. 

"What?"

"Can you move?" I ask through gritted teeth, motioning to him how he's basically entrapping me in between the counter and himself. 

He looks at me for a second as if to provoke me more, finally stepping away when I sigh. 

I scoff, rolling my eyes and extend my arm to grab another cup apart from the one I already had. 

I give him another nasty look, before filling both cups up and finally leaving his vicinity. 

"Don't spill it on anyone." He says, mocking tone clear as day. 

I turn again, fighting the urge to throw the precious orange juice into his annoying face before sighing and walking away. 

"Hope he chokes on his water." I mutter, finally putting the two cups down on the table, in front of Lina. 

"What was that back there? Another one of your tantrums?"

"No, his tantrum after he couldn't grab another cup, other than the one my hand was already on."

She chuckles, and I send her a slight glare, trying to delve back into my essay. 

I was maybe halfway through already, having to hand it in next week. I might have procrastinated a little, but one thing about me was that I'll always get it done on time. No matter what. 

Though, as I keep reading the word vomit I had written, I feel a wave of annoyance flow through me. I grunt, putting my face flat on the table. 

Two more years, then I could finally do my specialization. Two more years. 

"What's gotten into her?" I hear, recognizing Luis' voice. Then I hear a shift of the chair across from me as he sits down with- probably a tray of food. 

"Essay." I hear Lina mumble, a hum coming from Luis in acknowledgment.

"Are you still not done with that essay? You got it assigned like three weeks ago." He says in a nagging tone. 

I groan, remembering that I said that I wouldn't procrastinate this school year. Past me definitely hated the present me, and for sure hated future me even more if I kept this up. 

I raise my head, huffing before sitting up straight.  I blink a couple times to clear my vision and start to vigorously type again. 

"Have you guys seen the final edit for tomorrow's match?" Luis says, covering his full mouth with his hand. 

"No, who approved it?" I ask confused, glancing at the both of them and returning my gaze to my screen.

"Valeria did." He says. I look at him for a moment, scrunching my eyebrows together. 

"Not surprised." I mutter, taking a sip of my coffee. 

"Speaking of the devil." Lina says, and my eyes immediately dart around the room to find the devil in question. 

She's staring right at our table, making a beeline towards us as the clicks of her heels get louder and louder. 

Please don't sit here. 

She gives us a painfully fake smile, swinging the iPad in her hand back and forth. 

"Have you guys seen the edit I approved?"

Not even a hello?

"No, we haven't." Lina answers, and I stare at Valeria as she unfortunately sits across from me. 

She chuckles, practically shoving the IPad in our faces, showing off the edit. 

"It's perfect, isn't it?" She chuckles again, and I fight the urge to cover my ears instead of hearing her ear deafening, high-pitched laughter. 

"It's alright." I say, giving her a smile. My opinion really didn't matter to her anyway, the least I could do was pretend to like it. 

She nods, suddenly looking directly at me, glancing down at my laptop. 

"Still working on school? Can't even think of how someone like you can balance it with this busy job." She says, smile pulling at her lips. 

I raise my brows, looking at Lina and Luis for confirmation of what I had just heard her say. 

They give me the same 'what the fuck' look, and I look back at Valeria, giving her a fake smile. 

"I'm sure you couldn't think of it, Valeria." I say, keeping my retort minimal, I had to keep it professional, unlike her. 

She looks at me, no words are exchanged further as an almost minute long silence follows. 

She finally decides to leave after, sending both Luis and Lina a wave, doing her best to ignore me further. 

"She's so weird. Always on my ass about something." I mutter, starting to type again. 

"Don't think she's gotten over the fact that you were chosen to travel with the team this season." Lina says, patting my shoulder. 

"Well, too bad for her. Like I've got time for her petty conversations."

If I was being honest; I couldn't stand being within five meters of her. And with the amount of meetings we had together, made life a little more difficult than I would've liked. 

"Besides, you're coming with me. Why isn't she on your ass as well?" I ask Luis, seeing him shrug. 

"Because I'm handsome?" He smirks, starting to flex his arms. 

"She's annoying, but she doesn't have a vision problem." I hear Lina say, the both of us bursting out in laughter. Luis looking at us with the most defeated look ever, making us laugh even louder.

"Okay, alright, sorry. You're very handsome, we're just having a little fun. I promise." I say patting his hand, holding back more laughter as I dab away moisture from my eyes. 

I finish typing my current chapter after calming down, observing the text, and double saving the document before turning my laptop off. I look around for a second, seeing the players and staff chat and laugh together. The buzzing of my phone redirecting my attention back to our table. 

"y/n- your phone." Lina says, grabbing it to hand it to me. 

I grab it after thanking her, reading the caller ID. 

"Oh, it's my dad." I mutter. "I'll be back in a minute." I say, standing up to walk out of the cafeteria. I look around for a moment, then slide my finger to the right to pick up the call. 

"Dad?"

"y/n, how's work going?" He says, the sound of a paper shredder in the background almost sabotaging my understanding of his sentence. 

"Good, we're having lunch. How about you?" I reply, leaning against the wall. 

"Same old. I called to tell you- I'm not having dinner at home tonight. Ask Carmen to make something you want to eat." 

I hold back a sigh, closing my eyes in annoyance. He'd been working a lot since I was little, day and night. It had paid off very well. We had a big house and a beautiful backyard. He owned a law firm, in a nice area of the city and had a lot of clients.

His firm was also the legal representative of the club, being very close with President Pérez and manager Ancelotti themselves and other higher ups. 

Of course, I was still thankful, I never had to worry about necessities like food and clothes, they were always provided for me on a silver spoon. 

"Alright dad. See you tonight, love you." 

I hang up, shoving my phone into my back pocket, and walk back into the cafeteria.

"I'm going back to the office." I tell Lina and Luis, them looking up at me in concern. 

"Why? Did something happen?" Luis asks, fixing his dark, curly hair.  

"No, I just want to make sure everything is perfect for tomorrow." I force a smile, trying to cover up the fact that my mood was definitely ruined after that phone call. 

I grab my laptop, holding it in between my arm and chest as I start making my way out of the cafeteria. 

Not before I'm stopped by someone calling out to me. 

"y/n!" I hear, looking up and seeing Vini call me over, Rodrygo and sadly, Jude standing next to him. 

How did this communication even work?

I raise a brow, walking over to them. 

"What's with that face? Trouble with your boyfriend?" Vini says in Spanish, greeting me with a hug. 

"It's nothing like that! It was just my dad." I deny, laughing at him. My smile totally disappearing from my face when I make accidental eye contact with an irritated looking Jude next to Vini.

"Right, how's your dad? He hasn't been around lately." Rodrygo asks, greeting me as well. 

"Busy- you know how he is..." I reply, swatting my hand. "I'll try to convince him to visit." I smile. 

"Will you be coming with us to tomorrow's match?" Vini asks. 

"Oh yeah, I'll be joining you on all the matches this season. You guys got lucky this time." I joke, giving him a little wink. 

The two Brazilian men laugh, Vini patting my shoulder as I excuse myself to go up. 

I twist the key in the door lock, opening the front door to my house. The smell of spices and sauces filling up my nostrils. I scramble to take my shoes off, throwing my bag onto the floor and making a beeline to the kitchen area. 

"Aunty Carmen!" I exclaim, hugging her tightly. 

"Oh my girl!" She coos, squeezing me even tighter. 

"I missed you so much." I say, planting a kiss on her soft cheek, letting go of her. 

"Me too. Come on, get cleaned up and we'll have dinner." She says warmly, going back to stirring the food. 

Aunty Carmen was the lady who had been cooking for me and my dad since I was a child. Her food was finger-licking good, and I don't think I could ever survive without it. 

She'd partially raised me, alongside my biological aunt, whom I lived in the UK with for a couple of years. 

I had begged my dad to not send me to a boarding school, so he'd decided to send me off to live with my aunt, and made me attend an international school instead. A place, consisting of cultures and languages I always craved to be surrounded with becoming my second home. 

"When is your dad coming?"

"Oh no, my dad isn't coming for dinner." I explain, pulling out two spoons and two forks out of the cabinet and walking over to the dinner table. 

"He wasn't home last time either, why?"

"Too busy. You know how he is." I mumble, filling her glass with water. 

"I'm sorry, my girl." 

"It's fine- I'm used to it by now. You're here tonight at least." I beam, starting to dig into the food. 

"Aunty, you never disappoint!" I exclaim, shoving another spoonful of food into my mouth.

"Slow down! It's not going to run away from you." She fusses, taking a bite of the food herself. 

A comfortable silence falls in between us, the sound of our utensils clattering against the plates and bowls accompanied by the occasional comment about the taste of the food. 

I join her in cleaning up the table, placing the rinsed dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and putting  the leftovers into the fridge. 

"If you look closely, you can see the food I made for the rest of the week. Make sure you close the lids well, so it can stay fresh." She says, drying her wet hands on a kitchen towel. 

"Thank you." I say, giving her another hug. 

"Oh, you're leaving already?" I ask, watching her grab her handbag. It was a pretty brown bag, a birthday present from me a couple years ago. 

"I do sweetie. Take care of yourself." She says, pulling me into a hug. 

"-and lock your doors, don't open them for anyone." 

"You know I'm not a child anymore. I'm twenty already! Besides, we have security cameras everywhere." I complain, folding my arms up to my chest. 

"You've grown up too fast." She says, pinching the fat of my cheek, making me whine at the pain. 

I sigh, a little sad as she opens the front door and walks out. I wave one more time, closing the door behind her and locking it as she had instructed. 

My dad had keys to get in when I went to bed anyway. 

I decide to get ready for bed, turning on the now full dishwasher, and going up to my room. Hoping everything will go smoothly as planned tomorrow.

[justc2world]

Has anyone checked on Carlos please 🥹🥹

[loooresloveletters]

This is insane

[jvdeslvr]

mi equipo 🤍 jude and lucas today was 🤩 !

[foot-tea]

I feel low-key jude and jobes parents need to be more aware of these exploitive girls. like yes they r both adults now but for example, Chlo carolina, summer cecilja walker and wisalsara were all in 17 year olds jobes likes when they are in they’re 20s. getting groomed right under their noses.

I think this is the case for all young famous people. For women a lot of times alarm bells are rung but for men, twitter bros will say 'wow winning on and off the pitch' or 'what a baddie she is so hot how did he pull her?'. They see these hot women going for these ballers as a sign of success and wealth. But at the same time they will call these women gold diggers without calling them out on the pedo aspect. These ballers too think it is a sign of their achievements when they have a pretty blonde around their arms.

For this type of men a woman is a toy or someone who takes care of the kids and him not someone who is a partner or equal which is why they will never call these women groomers. Not when they are pretty and hot but when they start aging. Look at how much hate Macron's wife gets. I am sure nearly 90% of it is not due to her grooming him but due to her not being conventionally attractive. Imagine Monica Belluci in Bridget's shoes. She would not be hated to extent Bridget is 🤷‍♀️

[xivdl]

jude bellingham golden boy winner 💫

[b4sorex1a]

Me looking at Arda Güler:

[livinginpool]

arteta , pochettino and ronaldinho playing togheter was NOT a fever dream

psg is not my team. who ejoys the willies on the logo ?

[senhoritabellingham]

can someone make a video edit the moments jude speaks (mostly try to sdjsj) spanish please?? i want this for scientific reasons, I swear

[jvdebellingham]

okayyy

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: Y/n is so supportive and always taking care of jude the small and the big things, but he takes her for granted. He becomes hurtful, and when she achieves something in university or something, he forgets about it and makes her accomplishment feel small and belittles it compared to his. She really feels hurt and betrayed as she is always there for him. Something along those lines, but can you make sure he grovels and begs for forgiveness? I want angst but also a happy ending.🫣 (anonymous)

Word Count: 500 words

(author's note: some jude for you all 🫶 apologies if it isn't that great, i just wanted to get it posted for you all !!)

To Y/N, Jude was the most perfect man and the most perfect boyfriend. He was supportive, generous, and loving and never failed to put a smile on her face and cheer her up when she had a difficult day.

So, when she had gotten the highest test score in one of her university classes, Y/N expected Jude to share her excitement. Any achievement Jude accomplished, Y/N was always the first to congratulate him and tell him how proud she was.

She had rushed back to their shared home to tell him the great news and found him lounging on the sofa when she got there. He was so engrossed in whatever he was watching on his phone that he didn’t even notice his girlfriend’s arrival.

“Jude, Jude, guess what!” Y/N exclaimed excitedly.

“What?” he replied, his tone dismissive and uninterested.

His tone throwing her off slightly, Y/N continued, “I got the highest exam score in my class. My professor was telling me that my essays were all perfect.”

Jude nodded, “Cool.”

Now, Y/N was annoyed. “What’s your problem? Aren’t you happy for me?”

“Yeah, I’m happy for you, but it hardly compares to my achievements. Compared to selling out stadiums it’s just a stupid test.”

With tear-filled eyes, Y/N turned on her heel and walked out of the room. She didn’t understand why Jude was being so harsh.

Realising what he had done, Jude regretted his words instantly. He got up off the sofa and moved up the stairs to where his girlfriend had just retreated to.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I’m so proud you did well, I really am."

When Jude entered their bedroom, he saw Y/N lying curled up on their bed. She lay still, the only movement being her back shaking as she silently cried to herself.

“No, Y/N, don’t cry, baby, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said all that, I didn’t even mean it.”

She sat up, looking at Jude with a tear-stained face. Wiping her eyes, she began to talk.

“Just because I don’t sell out stadiums or have adoring fans, doesn’t mean my successes are any less significant than yours.”

“I know, and I’m-”

“I haven’t finished. I always tell you how proud I am of how far you have come, so you belittling me and waving off something I was proud of hurt to hear Jude. Like really hurt.”

“I’m sorry. I should never speak to you like that, it isn’t right. I am proud of you. You’re my smart girl.”

Jude pulled his girlfriend into his arms and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. He held her in his arms, silently showing her the remorse he held for his actions.

Y/N knew Jude didn’t mean what he said. She knew he was proud of her. The pair sat together for a while, soaking up the ‘calm after the storm’.

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 7 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: I’m back baby! Thank you guys for waiting <3

W/C: 4.611

part six

"I won't look. Don't trust me at all, do you?" I mutter to Amira after taking my top off, grabbing the shirt she's handing me with my eyes closed.

"You'll like it. It's a part of my surprise." She sighs, helping me pull the shirt down my body without my makeup getting on the collar.

"Can I look now?" I ask, eyes still squeezed shut.

"Yeah, turn around."

I turn, looking in the mirror. I stay quiet for a moment, then gasp in surprise.

"What? An England kit? Why are you making me betray Spain?" I attempt to joke, looking at her.

"Like you didn't live here for so many years." She scoffs, pushing me.

"I'm just kidding. Why the kit, though?" I ask, fixing the material in the mirror.

"Ta da!" She exclaims, I look back at her, frowning in confusion when she starts waving two keycards in my face. My hands fly to take one and I read it quickly.

"No, way! You got tickets for the England vs. Australia friendly?"

"Yeah, got them a couple days ago." She replies, and I eye her suspiciously.

"Oh- mister Trent got them for you? Guess he really likes you." I tease, watching her become more and more flustered.

"Shut up- he gave them to show his appreciation."

"Yeah, you want to believe that? You'll be upgraded to wag in a few weeks, trust." I add, laughing at her annoyed expression.

"Aren't you and Jude a thing?" She accuses, putting on her own kit. Finally, she grabs her handbag and car keys off her desk.

I register her words a little too late, but my head whips around in disgust.

"Over my dead body."

"You both were cute last time." She mumbles, both of us walking up to her parked car.

"Absolutely not." I state firmly, immediately connecting my phone to the car.

"Oh, how the tables have turned.." She whispers, but I hear her clearly. I send her a glare, though my glare gets even more intense when she pulls out her strawberry and mango-flavored vape.

"Put that thing away, now!"

"I just realized how different watching a game feels when I'm not working." I say, admiring the full Wembley Stadium. We had finally arrived at our seats, and the view was perfect. Looking around, I do recognize some people, realizing this was probably the family section.

"Turn that working brain of yours off and enjoy. Look, it's starting!" Amira nags, wrapping her arm around mine in excitement.

I chuckle at her, deciding to just enjoy the match. Watching both England's and Australia's teams move around the pitch. Halftime comes around and ends quickly, making way for an opportunity for England. Grealish kicks the ball against the post, missing a chance and making us cringe, but we burst into cheers when Watkins manages to try again and scores.

The match ends with a 1-0 for England. When the whistle is blown, we sit down again. We'd stood up near full time, anticipating a last-minute goal from Australia. It was a friendly, we knew that, but making it exciting was so much more fun than just sitting there and watching the game.

"What now? Is your man coming here?" I ask, fixing my shirt and smiling cheekily at Amira.

"He said he will- after freshening up. Let's wait." She tells me, patting my thigh.

"Didn't even deny that he's your man?" I tease, watching her roll her eyes.

We're interrupted a couple minutes later. I hear someone shout her name, watching both Trent and Jude walk over to our seats. Trent greets us in a friendly manner, while Jude stands next to him like he was forced to come up.

I slowly allow Trent and Amira to have a private conversation, and my eyes land on Jude when they walk away to have some more privacy.

"What are you doing here? And what's with the kit?" He asks, arms crossed.

I scoff, mirroring his body language. Looking him up and down. 

"Can't attend a match now? Don't worry, I was over the moon since you weren't playing." I retort, being petty.

I watch him roll his eyes, his expression changing for a second. He opens his mouth to say something, but he hesitates for a moment.

"Who's on your back?"

"What?"

"Your shirt number."

"I don't know- who?" I ask, turning around, confused, when I hear a sudden chuckle.

"Who's on the back?" I ask, trying to see with my phone camera, frowning at his smug face. What the hell was his problem?

I take a picture, turning to face him again as I click on the picture, freezing when I see Jude's last name and number. My expression falters, and I use all my strength to keep my composure.

Amira, you fucking witch..

"Think you're obsessed with me." He whispers, leaning in. I lean back immediately, like he's some highly infectious disease.

"You're sick, Bellingham. It’s just your name, calm down..”

I reply, annoyed at the fact that I couldn't take the shirt off or put my jacket on since I left it in the car.

He goes to say something else, but he's cut off when I hear a familiar voice call out to him. Both of us turning around to see his mom, her eyes lighting up with warmth when she recognizes me.

"Mrs. Bellingham.." I greet, permanent smile plastered on my face when she walks up to us. I notice both her- husband and youngest son behind her. 

How could I not recognize his dad and brother?

This past summer, my entire social media feed was plastered with photos of Jude and his family on their first day. Not to forget the fact that I was literally behind the camera when the pictures were taken.

She pulls me into an embrace, her arms wrapping around me warmly. The musky and orange blossom scent of her perfume greets me, and it smells like the most expensive bottle of YSL 'Libre' I have ever smelled.

"How nice is it to see you here. Are you off due to international break?"

"Yes, I thought I'd come visit family and friends out here..." I trail off, my eyes darting to her husband next to her. She notices the hesitation in my voice and introduces us to each other.

"I’m Mark, nice to meet you. I have heard some good things about you. I've also had some contact with your father on some legal matters over in Spain. Good man he is.." He shakes my hand firmly, a very kind smile on his face.

"Thank you, I hope he's been a great help to your family.."

I immediately switch my speech. Trying to sound totally different from the tone I had used with Jude.

"Oh right, this is our youngest son. Jobe.." Denise begins, pushing her son towards me.

I press my lips together to stifle a chuckle, awkwardly shaking the teenage boy's hand.

"Nice to meet you. Hope you're a better football player than your older brother over here?"

I say, pointing a thumb at Jude. It sounds like a joke, but when I glance at Jude, he's giving me the nastiest look when his parents aren't watching. Jobe has only muttered one or two words, but has probably already been nicer to me than his brother has ever been to me.

Jobe only replies with a small smile, so I look up at his parents.

"You must be proud.."

"Of course, equally proud of our two boys.."

Mark replies, holding his son's shoulders. I chuckle, looking at Denise when she speaks.

"Did you enjoy the game? Must be a change of scenery.."

"Oh- yeah, felt weird not working during a game. It was nice though, I was invited by a friend-"

I trail off, looking around to see Amira, noticing her giggle and chat with Trent a couple seats away.

"But she seems busy.." I laugh, they follow my line of sight and chuckle, nodding in acknowledgment.

"You're also wearing an England kit.." His dad notices, pointing to my shirt.

"Jude's, I presume?" His mom asks, making me nod. I turn, giving them a quick look at the "Bellingham" and number 10 on my back.

I'm wearing their last name on my back, that is really weird, if given some thought..

"A gift too.." I smile, facing them again.

I notice that they all glance at Jude for a moment before Denise speaks up again.

"Why don't you join us for dinner tonight? A small appreciation for helping Jude out with his Spanish and adjusting in Madrid."

Damn, how close did they think we were?

Lovely, very nice of her, but that would be a masterclass in awkwardness.

"That's incredibly kind of you, Mrs Bellingham, but I'm sure you don't get many dinners together as a family. So, I don't want to inconvenience your family. Besides, I've got some dinner reservations with my high school friends.."

Her expression immediately turns into an understanding one. I thank her once again for the invitation, holding her hand to convey my appreciation. Finishing our chat, I grab my bag from my seat, pulling it on my shoulder.

"I've got to go, roads will be busy.."

"Right, why don't you accompany y/n down, son?" Mark says, throwing his son a look.

I dart my eyes to Jude, his expression falters before he nods, listening to his dad.

I quickly bid them farewell, walking down alongside Jude.

"You didn't even jump in to save me once.” I mutter, grabbing my phone out of my handbag. Checking for any messages from Amira. 

Where did this little minx go?

"I was struggling to breathe when my mum invited you for dinner. Kept my mouth shut with difficulty.."

"How helpful.” I scoff, biting my lip in anticipation as we wait in front of Amira's car. The grey Audi A5 easily recognizable next to all the expensive sports cars.

"You can leave, you know.." I break the silence, looking up at Jude, resting my weight against the car door.

The alarm won't go off, right?

"You think my mom is going to be happy when I leave you here alone?" He asks, scrolling through his phone.

I sigh, sending one last threatening text message to Amira before shoving my phone in my pocket. An awkward silence ensues before I break it again.

"So, are you actually going to play next Tuesday against Italy?" I ask, giving him a skeptical look.

"Why? Want to see me play?" He smirks, putting his hand in the pocket of his blue sweatpants.

"Is that a genuine question? Obviously not.." I answer, furrowing my brows.

He scoffs, poking his tongue through his cheek. Looking me up and down.

"Why would I voluntarily come to see you?" I add, widening my eyes, looking at him in disbelief. 

"Your friend will probably come, with the way we're waiting for her and Trent.."

I look around the empty parking lot, was this a camera prank?

What the hell were these two doing anyway?

Speaking of the minx, she finally appears a good ten minutes later. I could've sworn if she didnt have a deep skin tone, she'd probably be as red as a tomato. Because, honey she looked flustered.

I raise my brows at her- disheveled appearance, instinctively giving Jude a knowing look.

Though, my look of scrutiny stops when I realize those two were onto some- freaky shit. Seems like Jude realizes at the same time, because, he too looks away from me.

"I'm leaving.." He quickly blurts, walking away without looking back. I watch his figure disappear, snapped out of my trance when Amira taps me.

"What the fuck? What did you two do?!" I ask, laughing loudly. Sure, I was annoyed that I had to wait for her, but my best friend's happiness was more important.

"Get in the car! I've got to tell you every single detail.."

"What's it called again?" I turn to Amira, asking her about the name of the venue we're supposed to go to.

I had been in London for a couple of days now. From family dinners to meeting up with high school classmates, all of it kept me busy. Everything had been very fun and memorable so far.

Last night, England played their match against Italy for the EURO qualifiers. I couldn't lie, the 3-1 win for England was very satisfying, especially when watching live from Wembley Stadium.

Right now, Amira and I are in the car. Getting driven to the restaurant or bar - Trent had invited us to. A small gathering to close off international break, if you could call it that.

Small or big party, Amira and I had to look our best. For obvious reasons, I am wearing the black mini-dress I had tried on in Amira's office.

"Novikov Restaurant & Bar.." She mutters, touching her lipgloss up while looking at her phone camera.

"You ever been?" I ask, equally fidgety with my appearance.

"Yes, nice place, but we'll probably go clubbing after."

I raise my eyebrows at her, sighing, before leaning against her shoulder.

"Will you keep me from getting drunk?"

"Can't save you, darling.."

Yeah, y/n is an absolutely a goner. Everyone within meters of her is aware of it, though to her, her limit has not even been reached yet.

She throws her head back as she downs another shot of- she doesn't even know. She took and gulped down anything that was handed to her by her best friend.

All she knows is- it burns in the back of her throat- like a fucking bitch. She doesn't even stop to think about why she's doing it, all she's been wanting to do, is take her mind off work and university. The opportunity was presented to her in a shot glass, and who would refuse?

A smart, responsible person, probably...

"Go dance with him.." y/n mutters, wiping the spilled and dribbling alcohol off her chin. Eagerly pushing her friend in Trent's direction.

The football player had invited the both of them for a reason, and to drunk y/n this was a good opportunity to play Cupido.

"No! I want to dance with you." Her friend replies, grabbing y/n's wrist.

"Go! You can dance with me anytime, go now!" She ushers, pushing Amira away with all the strength in her arms.

She giggles to herself when she notices Trent grab Amira's hand, feeling like her mission was partially accomplished.

Though, her happiness is short-lived when she curses herself. Her feet were practically going numb due to the stilettos her stylist bestie had forced her to wear.

To forget the uncomfortable feeling, she decided to get another drink. She clutches onto her handbag, starting to walk- or stumble towards the bartender.

She knew how to have fun on her own, there was no problem in that regard.

"Oh, fuck- sorry.." She slurs, looking up when her forehead collides with a hard chest. She makes immediate eye contact with a completely sober Jude, he raises a questioning brow, taking her disheveled appearance in.

"I take it back.." She loudly says, pushing past him to get to the bar. Loud music drums into her ears, causing her senses to tingle.

She's about to order a drink, but before she has the opportunity to speak, she's rudely interrupted by someone.

"A whisky neat, for the beauty here.." Someone says, she turns her head in a flash. Fucking pissed, a man dared to speak for her and over her.

It's a young man, around her age- slightly older judging from his appearance. His brown hair is slicked back with an estimated ten kilograms of hairgel, along with the tackiest combination of a white button-down and- skinny jeans.

"No, thank you!" y/n replies waving her hand and shouting over the loud music. She blinks a multitude of times, trying to clear her vision and mind.

"What'd ya mean, luv? Not suited to your taste?"

"I'm not interested.." She says, turning away from him and ordering her own drink. Fidgeting with the clasp of her bag and pulling bills out of her wallet.

"Oh, come on. Can't you see how much of a catch I am?" the douchebag insists, pointing up and down his frame.

She rolls her eyes at the words. This time her eyes might stay there permanently because the stranger continues repeating the corniest of words.

"No, thank you.." She repeats, taking a huge gulp of her pink Cosmo, looking away, and continuing to ignore him.

Should she start barking like a rabid dog to scare him off?

"Come on, babygirl... Would it hurt to smile for me?”

She almost chokes on her drink at the words. Eyes hazy and unfocused, one thing she's sure of- this man is about to get a taste of her leather handbag.

"Does it look like I'm interested?!" Her voice isn't loud, though her tone is sharp and full of irritation. She takes a step back, giving him the most repulsed look.

"I like my women feisty and alluring like you.." The guys persist, placing a nasty hand on her hip, a little too close to her backside.

"Get your filthy hand off me.." She demands, the grip on her glass tightening. Her brows furrow and her mood drops tremendously fast.

"Your words are sharp, but your body seems to be enjoying this. Let loose for me, sweetheart. Won’t ya?” His breath reeks of the most pungent alcohol she’s ever smelled, and his hand keeps inching closer to her bottom.

'Oh, fuck no' she thinks, placing the glass on the bar table. Readjusting her grip on her bag.

"Can you fuckin' let go of her?" She hears a loud voice say, Brum accent thick, but it's already too late.

She moves her handbag behind her, creating a good distance for maximum impact, before using all her force to hit the guy square in the face. The contact makes a loud noise, and surprisingly enough, it's detectable over the insanely loud music.

The guy immediately retreats, stumbling a couple steps back in shock. He cradles his head, screams of agony leaving his disgustingly filthy mouth.

"I said no- didn't I? Are you fucking deaf?!" She curses, temperature rising as she breathes in harshly. She can't even register what's happening- but he deserved it and had it coming.

"Let’s go..” A familiar voice exclaims, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her towards the restroom. He pulls her into the unisex section, locking the door behind them.

She struggles against him, her heels tripping and scratching against the floor. The now blood-stained handbag slips out of her hand, dropping to the floor.

"Let me go! You fucking creep! I swear, I'll bite it off!" She shouts, eyes shut tightly, as she hits his rock-hard chest multiple times. Hand squeezed up in a tight fist as she keeps trying to get out of his hold.

"y/n!" He shouts, trying to get her to look at him. He doesn't know the full story of what happened. All he saw was the guy touching her, putting his hands on her, and he was sent flying with a blow to the face.

Jude is impressed, though that's not his main thought or concern when y/n is fighting him as if he's the guy who was bothering her.

She’s drunk, but still recognizes his voice. The way he pronounces her name, not with venom and hatred per usual. No, instead, with the upmost panic and concern. He wants to snap her out of it, back to reality, back to him.

Her eyes snap open, arms held tightly by Jude. His fingers digging into her skin. Both of his hands keeping her up and steady.

"Jude?" She mumbles, looking up at him with the widest eyes imaginable. Her mascara running down her hot and sweaty face. Her favorite lipstick smudged at the corner of her mouth.

"It's me, you're good." He replies, noticing the faraway look in her eyes. His voice softens, lowering to a gentle decibel. Unlike the booming and ear-deafening music and conversations outside of the enclosed space they're in.

"Sit.." he gestures, pointing to the restroom countertop. She looks up, blinking repeatedly, she's not thinking of sitting when her mind and thoughts are still hazy and in fight or flight mode.

"Can I lift you up?" Jude suddenly asks, his hands leaving her arms. It sends a surge of extra adrenaline through her body, but she nods absentmindedly, looking away.

Jude takes a deep breath, hands reaching to the back of her thighs. He lifts her up easily, placing her on the countertop. His biceps flex under his sleeves, a frustrated noise leaving his lips.

y/n sniffles, the shock of it all sobering her up a bit. She raises her head, looking up at him. He stands in front of her, practically in between her legs.

He looks away, grabbing a paper towel from the roll and handing it to her.

"Here, wipe your- nose.." He mumbles, watching her. He walks away and grabs her bag off the floor, meticulously wiping the blood away with a dampened paper towel.

"Fucking bastard.." Jude mutters underneath his breath, venom on the tip of his tongue, as anger rushes through his veins. Though, y/n had practically handled it all on her own. Even in her drunk- mess of a state, she’d managed to break the lowlife’s nose and his ego.

The only thing that kept him from running out and breaking the bastard’s limb was the image of him already suffering and withering on the ground. Bloody, broken nose making him look so pathetic and disgusting, like the person he genuinely is.

y/n wipes her nose, eyes wet and irritated. The pounding in her head seems to increase as she struggles to hold her tears back. Although, she’d kept sort of calm in the moment, her heart was hammering in her chest. She could stand up for herself, that was no problem. It was the fact that she wasn’t fully coherent, which made her feel absolute terror in the moment.

All of the mixed emotions and alcohol make the nauseating feeling in her chest and stomach worse. Her eyes flutter for a moment, and she gags, clamping her hand over her mouth.

The noise alerts Jude, it takes him out of his murderous and aggressive thoughts. He looks up, immediately holding his hands out to her.

"Are you going to be sick?" He asks, eyebrows raised. She nods, hand still clasped around her mouth. Her mouth salivates, an imminent sign of needing to puke. It prompts Jude to help her down the countertop, his hands on both of her sides.

When her feet hit the floor, she practically leaps over to the toilet, retching and heaving over the toilet bowl. A warm hand is placed on her nape and forehead, trying to put pressure on those parts to stabilize her.

A choked sob leaves her dry lips, sweat beginning to glisten on her forehead. There was nothing she hated more than throwing up, the way it made her feel weak and out of control was an absolute nightmare to her.

"It's alright.." She hears, the soft whisper reaching her thumping ears. She takes a breath, squeezing her eyes tightly before heaving again. Her body shakes as all fluids leave her stomach, and the pungent smell of stomach acid makes her condition even worse.

It's all a blur, like a foggy fever dream. The only thing she can register are the sweet words reaching her burning ears. Full of reassurance and gentleness while she felt like she was losing her mind in the moment.

I hold back a gasp as my eyes land on the photo on my Instagram feed. I immediately sit up from my chair. My jaw slacks open as I read the caption.

"Jude Bellingham and alleged girlfriend spotted getting cozy after Australia friendly."

"The 20-year-old Madrid star seemed pretty happy to see his name and number on her shirt. The moment was captured by attendees, who provided us with pictures of the athlete's parents and his alleged lover having a seemingly very nice conversation. It seems like Mrs. and Mr. Bellingham approve."

"The identity of the young woman hasn't been revealed or confirmed as of yet. With some speculation about her father having close ties to Real Madrid CF."

I resist the urge to cry my eyes out at the association and immediately stand up from my desk. Practically skipping steps when running down the stairs, almost running into a group of fellow staff members.

My eyes dart around the cafeteria to spot the douche I needed to find. I make a beeline towards him as I watch him interact with the other players.

"I'm sorry, guys. I need him for a quick moment."

I say not waiting for anyone to answer. I grab onto Jude's upper arm and drag him out of the cafeteria. I hear some teasing whistles behind us, but I ignore them as I pull him into one of the small meditation rooms.

"What are you even doing-" he begins, but I cut him off as I shove my phone into his face. Showing him the photos and the caption which will probably keep me up tonight.

"What the fuck is this, huh?" I ask, raising my brows. Analyzing his facial expression as I fold my arms defensively.

I expect him to frown, get angry, get upset, but instead-

He fucking smirks, an amused chuckle leaving his lips. He snatches my phone, fingers tapping to read the comments on the post.

"Really? Is this a laughing matter to you?" I exclaim, ready to have a mental breakdown, while he just continues scrolling through the comments, starting to read them out loud.

"Not his usual type."

"He can do better."

I grunt, snatching my phone out of his hands, annoyed.

"I can play this game too, idiot!" I say, scrolling through the comments as well.

"He must be crazy, she's too pretty for him." I begin, passive aggressively reading positive comments about myself. I look up at him, watching him roll his eyes as he shoves his hands in his pocket.

"Well? What are you going to do about it?" I say, turning my phone off.

"What can I do about it?"

"This is your fault? If you weren't annoying me with your stupid antics, they wouldn't have made these speculations."

"You engaged in my 'stupid antics'!"

"Ugh- just send a cease and desist letter or something!"

"It's an Instagram gossip page, not a damn newspaper!"

I huff in annoyance, pacing around the small room.

"Can't you like- deny rumors?"

"I'm a football player, not a reality TV personality! They speculate about everything in my life already. Why would I deny them this time around?"

"Is that a question you really want an answer to?"

"Come on! What bad does it do you to be tied to me? Only good if you ask me.." He shrugs, and I don't miss the smirk on his face.

"Never mind, I'll ask my dad to handle it!" I say, walking past him to push the door open. I close my eyes in annoyance when it doesn't budge.

"You need to pull.." I hear Jude speak, the smile on his face practically audible from behind me.

"Fuck off.." I mutter seething in anger, pushing the door open and leaving him behind in the meditation room.

[isa-styxr28]

[loooresloveletters]

They look so good stop it