#wininitiative | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

foreverisntenough · 1 month ago

Text

‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Extra Warning! This chapter touches on Whitney's serious mental health struggles. It’s brief but dark so if that is at all potentially triggering to you please be advised and DNI. <3

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 18 - 'Long Distance’ | ‘Act II’

word count - 11.2k

Winnie had just arrived in Madrid, buzzing with excitement about being there to see you and yeah, sure maybe for Jude’s match but lately boyfriends, fiance’s whomever's games weren’t all that exciting anymore, they’d lost their novelty. You headed straight to her hotel, practically skipping through the lobby to meet her. When you got to her room, she was already sprawled out on the bed, unpacking her things. You flopped down beside her, grinning from ear to ear, barely able to contain your giddiness.

“Alright,” she said, her voice full of mischief. “Spill. How’s this boy of yours doing?” Winnie gave you a knowing look, propping herself up on her elbows. “Still handsome? Almost your husband yet?” She giggled.

“Oh, gorgeous as ever. Definitely far from my husband though.” you laughed back, throwing her a playful glance. You leaned back into the pillows, your smile only growing wider. She rolled her eyes. You had gone to her hotel ahead of the match to gossip or as you two would call it ‘get ready.’

“Please, the way you talk about him, he might as well be! You live here now!” She teased. “I had to change time zones just to hang out with you. You and Whit have me racking up my fight miles. You two should give me a promo code to be your friend. You’ve both ditched me for all these English men. Surely, they can't’ be that good.” She smirked.

“I mean…” You laughed, nudging her with your elbow, a shrug, and a raised eyebrow. Winine did know in fact. She’d given a few of Trent’s friends a go. “Also, we didn't ditch you! I’m home all the time. Plus, you’re here, aren’t you?” Winnie shot you a sarcastic look but couldn’t hold back her own laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. But still. You and Whit are so wrapped up in your men, I’m starting to think I need to find myself a British lad to keep up!” You both burst out laughing, the sound filling the room, the kind of giggles that come when you’re in the company of someone who knows you better than anyone. For the next hour, you spilled everything to her—the ups, the downs, the dreamy parts, the sluttier moments, and the messier bits of your life with Jude. You told her about the quiet nights in Madrid, the ridiculous inside jokes you shared with him, the sweet minutes, and the awkward ones too. The whole time, Winnie listened intently, throwing in jokes here and there, but you could see the warmth in her eyes, happy for you.

“So, let me get this straight,” Winnie said after you’d finished. “You’ve been living this fairy tale, in love with a footballer, dream life, and I’ve just been…there, back in New York, missing all the action without my two best friends?” You laughed, shaking your head.

“You’ve definitely been having your own fun.” You teased. She raised a brow, smirking knowing well she has had some fun. .

“Well, fine. But you’re still out here living with your superstar husband in Madrid.” She poked fun at you a bit more.

“He’s not my husband, Winnie.” You corrected her with some cheek.

“Yet.” She winked, and you burst into laughter again, your heart feeling full. Being with her like this, joking about everything, made you realize how much you missed the simplicity of your friendship, even if your life had shifted dramatically. But as you sat there, wrapped up in the warmth of the moment, you knew you didn’t want to trade it for the world. You both were lying on Winnie’s hotel bed, tangled in fits of giggles as you filled her in on the plans for the evening.

“So tonight, just the match…little night out after with their friends. I think you’ve met Jobe and then you’ll like the Real boys. They’re sweet” you said, excitement and nerves mixing together. You’d been looking forward to it for a bit. Just having a girlfriend back with you but there was always that undercurrent of tension when it came to these events with Jude, especially with all that had been on your mind lately. Winnie propped her head up on her hand, giving you a knowing look.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll have a fucking night out, and then tomorrow morning when I’m hungover and met a sweet spanish boy I will fly off to England to see Whit and Teddy girl,” she said, her tone softening from cheek when she mentioned them. “I haven’t seen them in so long, I miss that chubby little girl… and Whit too.” She smiled. You smiled at the mention of Whitney and Teddy, but that smile faltered when you thought about the gallery event you had to attend soon, the one that would take you away from Madrid, leaving you to miss the match in England.

You know I have to be at the gallery so I’ll miss the match as well,” you confessed, sighing heavily. “It’s this big opening, I can’t miss but I don’t know, Win. I don’t know how long things can keep going like this.” You sighed. Articulating your fears aloud made them all the more real.

“I know. I’ll be back in time for it, probably straight from JFK but it’s okay. What makes you so worried? You and Jude are fine, you’ll sort it out. It’s just some travel.” Winnie sat up slightly, raising her brow. You shook your head, your smile fading.

“It’s more than that. I’m always flying back and forth. We keep missing these big moments. How long before it all just…falls apart? Like how many matches, how many openings, how many holidays before you start to question the whole thing.” Your bottom lip quivered. Winnie’s expression softened as she studied your face, seeing how much this was weighing on you. But she, being Winnie, always knew how to keep things light, even when the mood was heavy.

“Well, the flight here was great! He’s not exactly flying coach, is he?. And honestly, in addition to just how great you are… he’s getting sex out of this so really… he’s a lucky lad, all three of those things are wonderful,” she joked, nudging you playfully. You couldn’t help but giggle, but the laughter was tinged with sadness.

“I know, but…” you trailed off, your voice quieter now. “It just feels like…it might be doomed, you know? Like there’s no real way to fix it.” You mumbled. Winnie grabbed your hand, squeezing it.

“Hey, stop. It’s not doom. It’s just life. You and Jude…you’ll figure it out. Relationships are hard, yeah, but you love him, right?” She asked, knowing the answer.

“Of course, I do.” You nodded, biting your lip.

“Then that’s what matters,” she said firmly, her voice full of that sisterly wisdom. “Take it one step at a time. Tonight, enjoy the match, enjoy being with him. Stop worrying about all the ‘what ifs.’” You sighed, leaning back into the pillows, grateful to have Winnie there, but still feeling the weight of it all.

“I just don’t want to lose him,” you admitted, your voice small. “I don’t want to be this deep to lose it.” You frowned. Winnie smiled at you, soft and understanding.

“You won’t,” she said, confident. “Not if you keep being honest with each other. And hey, if it makes you feel better, at least you’re getting this weather versus New York shit right now and you’re getting sex with a pretty boy, it can’t be so bad, right?” she teased again, making you laugh despite yourself.

“Yeah,” you said with a small smile. “At least there’s that.” But deep down, the uncertainty still lingered, and as you got ready to leave for the match, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the future was more fragile than you wanted to admit. Moments later when you pulled the Bellingham kit over you and tucked it up into your bra to crop it. You inspected your toned torso in the mirror with a pout as you buttoned up your jeans. Winnie tilted her head back dramatically, laughing.

“What happened to my party girl? Who is this?” she teased, nudging you with her elbow. “Down so bad for a boy? You giggled, burying your face in your hands for a moment before looking back at her.

“I dont knowwww. I don’t know. Right? I’m just as surprised as you are,” you admitted, shaking your head in disbelief. “But…it’s different, Win. It’s so different with Jude.” you cooed. Finally buttoning the last one of your jeans.

“Different how?” She raised an eyebrow, leaning in with curiosity. You thought for a moment, the words forming slowly as you tried to put the feeling into words.

“I used to be so scared of being vulnerable. You know me—I was always the one keeping things light, never letting anyone get too close.” You paused, fidgeting with the edge of the bedspread now as you walked back over to her. “But with Jude…it’s like that vulnerability doesn’t make me feel weak. It makes me feel stronger. Like, being open with him makes me feel more protected, more myself than I ever thought I could feel. It reminds me of how you feel when you’re young like a naive bliss.” You cooed. Winnie listened intently, her playful smirk softening into a genuine smile.

“That sounds…kind of beautiful, actually,” she said, her teasing tone gone, replaced by something more sincere. She smiled. You let out a sigh, though it was followed by a small, nervous laugh.

“It is, I guess. But it’s also kind of scary, you know? It’s one thing to be vulnerable, but when all that trust is in someone else’s hands… It's terrifying. It’s like handing someone your heart and hoping they don’t drop it.” You cooed sadly.

“Listen to you! You sound like Whitney talking about T.” Winnie shook her head, grinning. You both laughed at that, and you ran a hand through your hair, still shaking your head in disbelief.

“I know, right? When did I become that girl?” You cooed confused but with a bit of enjoyment. Winnie gave you a soft shove.

“Hey, don’t knock it girlie. You sound happy. It makes me happy.�� Winnie said.

“I am,” you said, your smile growing a little wider, more certain. “It’s just…new, you know? Trusting someone… Trusting Jude.” You sheepishly asked.

“I get it,” Winnie said, squeezing your hand. “But if anyone can handle it, it’s you. And Jude? He’s lucky to have you, party girl or not.”

As you walked hand in hand with Winnie through the bustling crowd at the Bernabéu, the energy was electric, every inch of the stadium buzzing with excitement. The final game of the season always brought out the most die-hard fans, and tonight, the sea of Bellingham jerseys seemed endless. A year ago, this sight would’ve made you feel smug, the thought that some of these women were here for the man you gotta go home with. But now, as Jude's girlfriend, that same sea of jerseys stirred something different—a twinge of jealousy you hadn’t expected. Winnie gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as you glanced around, noticing groups of girls whispering and pointing, no doubt hoping to catch a glimpse of the Real Madrid star or his inner circle. You could hear their giggles and murmurs, and though you tried to ignore them, it was hard not to feel a little protective, knowing Jude was the object of their affection.

“Hey… who is this person?” She felt your energy shift. “Y/N… Don’t let them get in your head,” Winnie said softly, leaning close so only you could hear. “You’re his one. They’ll know it eventually. When you guys want.” She smirked. Winnie had been inquiring about your relationship being public earlier. You said you hadn’t really thought about a launch. Which was sort of true so you just smiled gratefully at her, appreciating her unwavering support.

“I know,” you murmured, though the flutter of nerves didn’t quite settle. Winnie’s presence was a comfort, but you still felt that underlying tension— seeing Jude’s family and friends tonight added an extra layer of pressure, especially with all eyes on you. As you finally reached the box, Denise greeted you with her warm, welcoming smile. She gave you a quick hug, and you could tell she was happy to have you there. Standing just behind her, however, was Jude’s brother Jobe, who smiled a bit shyly and a bit slyly. You’d met him briefly before in Greece, but tonight was different. It wasn’t just a casual family gathering; you were stepping into Jude’s world in a much more public way. Winnie, as always, brought her usual infectious energy, waving at Jobe and immediately breaking the ice with everyone. It helped lighten the mood, and soon enough, you felt yourself relaxing into the group, even though the nerves hadn’t completely left you. But as you stood there and scanned the stadium, your gaze fell back on the crowd of girls below, you felt like many of them dressed to impress, hoping to catch a player’s attention. They were wearing his jersey with pride, their faces filled with admiration, and while you understood their love for him as a player, a part of you couldn't help but feel territorial.

"Girl, stop. They wish they were you," she teased, flashing you a knowing smile. "But they’re not, and they’ll never be." Whitney leaned over, sensing where your thoughts had drifted. You chuckled softly, but the truth was, being Jude's girlfriend came with a lot more than just the title. You feared officially entering this uncharted territory. One where you felt so apprehensive, so nervous. One you’d heard about from Whitney filled with the constant scrutiny, the attention, and the understanding that every game wasn’t just about football—it was about navigating the world that came with being tied to someone so famous. As the match was about to begin, you found yourself watching Jude on the field, his focus sharp, his movements effortless. He was brilliant, and it was impossible not to be proud of him. But tonight, standing alongside his family and friends, surrounded by all these women who him from afar, the reality of it all hit you. You weren’t just dating any man—you were dating *Jude Bellingham*. And while you knew he was yours in every way that mattered, there was no denying the subtle weight that came with being by his side in the spotlight. When Jobe’ greeted you his hug lingered a moment longer, his embrace comforting in the way only a sibling’s could be. When he pulled back, his wide grin made it impossible not to smile in return, and you felt an immediate wave of relief. You had been apprehensive about seeing Jude’s younger brother, about how Jude’s friends and family would see you, but Jobe’s warmth quickly erased those worries.

“Haven’t seen you since Greece, you look good,” he teased, his tone light. “But I feel like I see you all the time.”

“Yeah?” you asked, confused but curious. Jobe’s grin widened mischievously.

“Well, I’m not the one telling you….don’t tell Jude I said anything, but… since you guys started dating, it’s like he can’t stop talking about you. Every day, it’s another photo, another update.” Jobe smirked.

“He sends your family photos of me?” Your heart fluttered.

“All the time,” Jobe nodded, trying to suppress a laugh. “It’s like, every other day in the family chat. There’s always a picture from dinner—he sends them across the table when you aren’t looking. Then there were photos of your gallery; he was really proud of those. And there was a ton from the Grand Palais—he sent it the day he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend, asking us if it looked good enough as they got it set up.” Jobe smirked, loving the opportunity to expose Jude. Your cheeks flushed as you processed what Jobe was telling you. Jude had shared all these intimate moments with his family, the moments you hadn’t even known were so significant to him, you assumed he cared but to know he had shared them with his parents, with Jobe openly. You could feel the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, realizing just how much you meant to him.

“The Grand Palais?” you murmured, still in disbelief. “He sent that?” Jobe nodded enthusiastically, clearly amused by your reaction.

“Yep, he was stressing out about everything being perfect. Even sent us a picture of that shit painting he made with you. He wanted to make sure it was good enough.” Jobe dramatically and facetiously pouted, making fun of Jude’s behavior. Your breath caught as you remembered the painting he’d done at your chateau, the care Jude had taken with it, the thoughtfulness behind every brushstroke. It had meant so much to you at the time he was even trying but now, knowing he’d been so nervous about it, about asking you to be his girlfriend—it made your heart swell even more.

“I didn’t realize…” you began, your voice soft, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the depth of Jude’s affection.

“Yeah, so maybe the girls in section 102 might not know your name but…” Winnie cooed. “I think the people who do are the ones that matter.” She giggled while finally hugging Jobe hello.

“Yeah, Y/N, our family definitely knows. He doesn’t shut up.” Jobe said, his tone shifting to something more serious. His words struck you deeply. The image of the girls in the stadium, all wearing Bellingham jerseys, their adoration for Jude evident, had momentarily made you feel invisible. But now, hearing how much you meant to his family, that Jude had been showing you off to them in a way more personal than any public declaration—it made you realize that those other people didn’t matter. What mattered was how deeply you were cared for, how loved you were by the people that meant the most to Jude.

“Thanks, Jobe,” you said quietly, feeling the weight of his words sink in. “I didn’t know he was sharing all of that with you lot.” You told him. Jobe chuckled, nudging you again.

“Yeah, he’s obsessed. But honestly, we’re glad you’re with him. Even if it means he’s clogging up the group chat with photos of you.” Jobe teased. You laughed, the sound bubbling out of you before you could stop it. Jobe’s teasing felt like an unspoken seal of approval, and that meant more than anything. There was something about being accepted by Jude’s family that made the whole relationship feel more real, more secure.

“So, I’m the reason for the constant notifications?” you joked, trying to wrap your head around the idea of Jude sending photos of you to his family.

“Pretty much,” Jobe smirked. “But hey, at least they’re good photos. You’ve got him all soft, you know. He’s never been like this with anyone.” Your heart did a little flip at his words. Jude had always been sweet with you, always shown you his affection, but to hear it from Jobe, to know that even his brother could see how much he cared—it was everything.

“Really?” you asked, your voice quieter now, the gravity of what Jobe was saying sinking in.

“Really,” Jobe confirmed. “He’s mad about you. A right melt.” He laughed. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a deep, undeniable sense of love and belonging. The girls in the stadium, with their jerseys and their signs, didn’t have anything on what you shared with Jude. You might not be plastered all over the tabloids, but you were woven into his life in ways that really mattered—in the family group chat, in his moments of vulnerability, in the small, private snapshots he sent when he thought no one was watching.

“So, really don’t worry about things. Don’t need to. Embarrassingly, Jude’s all yours. And we all know it.” Jobe’s voice broke through your thoughts. You smiled at him, feeling lighter than you had in days. “Now c’mon, got to find mum. I think she’s already started the pre-game nerves.” He grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulder in that casual, brotherly way You laughed, falling into step with him as you both made your way through the stadium. As you walked, you couldn’t help but glance at the sea of jerseys again, but this time, it didn’t bother you as much. You felt maybe you had something more—something real, something lasting. The energy in the stadium was electric, but despite the excitement of the game on going, you couldn’t shake the weight sitting in your chest. It should’ve dissipated when Jobe told you those things about Jude. Instead you stood anxiously in the box with Denise and Winnie as the match stood stuck in a stalemate. Jobe was sat with a few of he and Jude’s hometown friends. A group of boys that were visiting. They were tight enough to be up here but not close enough to be going out with you later or staying at the house. As they were watching the match unfold, they were talking shit and unfortunately you heard more than you cared for but they got bolder when Jobe stepped away for a moment. As the match went on, Jobe joining you and his mum, the comments from Jude’s hometown friends continued to gnaw at you. They were louder now, more confident as they joked amongst themselves.

“Can’t believe he’s cuffed now,” one of them said with a chuckle, looking at you between quick glances sideways.

“Yeah, I thought Jude wouldn’t settle till he came back home. Bet he’s not gonna last with her though. He can’t be serious,” another added, laughing as if you weren’t standing right there, your stomach twisting with every word.

“Maybe it’s an image thing. Think they met through TAA.” One quipped. You kept your eyes on the field, trying to block it out, but the insecurity settled deep in your chest. Were you just some fleeting thing in Jude’s life? It was like what Jobe just said dissipated. Surely, Jude couldn’t be that devious. Just another girl he could casually show off for a season or two before moving on? The thought haunted you, and it was impossible to shake.

“Is she really his girl, or is she just another one?” one of them whispered, glancing at you with skeptical eyes.

“Maybe she’s just the end-of-year trophy,” another joked under his breath. It stung more than you wanted to admit. It wasn’t really about you specifically, it could've been about any girl, but that was the problem. You had been with Jude for a while now, and though things were progressing, there were still moments when you felt unsure of your place in his world. The casual teasing from the boys wasn’t anything malicious, just the usual banter they probably shared amongst themselves, but it felt like a direct attack on your insecurities. They had no idea you could hear them. Jobe had clarified when they first asked, casually confirming that you were, indeed, Jude’s girlfriend, but that didn’t stop their snide remarks. You wanted to brush it off, but it was hard when those doubts already lingered in your own mind. Was this all it was to them? Was that what Jude and Jobe’s ‘friends’ saw when they looked at you—someone temporary, disposable? You tried to focus on the match, but your thoughts kept circling back to another time you were at one of Jude’s games, and he had dismissed you in front of everyone. That memory haunted you. Now, you were standing there, waiting for him to come up after the match, terrified of how he’d act. Would it be the same? Would he brush you off like you didn’t matter? Every minute felt like an eternity as you stood near the entrance to the box, eyes glancing toward the door, waiting for Jude to come up after the final whistle blew. The crowd had begun to thin out, and Denise and Winnie were still in good spirits, chatting away post victory, but you felt like you were on edge, balancing on a fine line between calm and panic. When you finally saw Jud cutting through the crowd, your heart raced, a wave of anxiety crashing over you. He was in his joggers, his face glowy from the post game. Your hands clenched at your sides, and for a brief moment, all the worst-case scenarios flashed through your mind. You remembered the way he had casually dismissed you as a friend, and it terrified you to think that it might happen again, especially after what you had overheard. Jude’s eyes scanned the entire box, and when they landed on you, your breath caught in your throat. Would he be distant? Cold? But then, a smile spread across his face, genuine and warm. He jogged over to you tiredly but with a happiness behind his eyes, his arms opening wide as he pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your hair.

“My angel. Mmmmm” He hummed. “Hi baby,” he murmured into your ear, and just like that, the tension in your body started to melt away. You wrapped your arms around him, clinging to him a little tighter than you normally would. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he kissed your temple softly, and in that moment, it didn’t matter what his friends thought. It didn’t matter that they had made jokes or questioned your relationship. Jude was here, and he was making it clear that you weren’t just some passing fling. But even as his affection calmed some of your fears, you couldn’t help but feel that nagging insecurity. Getting deeper into this relationship with Jude meant that your emotions were more vulnerable than ever, and you wondered if you’d always feel this way—wondering if you were enough, if you were truly seen. It was the first time in your life you really questioned if you were enough for someone. He cupped your face and moved you to give him a kiss, a real kiss. And though his face had lit up at the sight of you, and he kissed you sweetly. His lips were soft and familiar, but instead of the usual warmth that flooded your body, you felt a strange hollowness. It wasn’t enough. You weren’t sure why—it was Jude, the man you loved, but it felt like something was missing. How many times had he done this? How many girls had stood in your place before, waiting for him after a game, only for it to eventually fizzle out? How many friends had been there long before and long after these relationships. You wanted to feel secure in his arms, but all you could hear were his friends’ snide comments, their laughter echoing in your head.Jude pulled back from the kiss, his eyes scanning your face with concern. “Angel, what’s up with you?” he asked softly, sensing your hesitation.

“No, nothing.” You shook your head, forcing a smile. He frowned, not buying it.

“Please talk to me,” he urged, his voice gentle but insistent. You didn’t want to—didn’t want to voice the swirling thoughts in your mind. But he wasn’t letting it go. “Come on, baby. Talk to me,” he pressed again, his hand resting on your waist as if trying to anchor you. You hesitated, your chest tightening. Then, almost without meaning to, the words slipped out.

“Are you really sure?” you asked, your voice small. “Are you really sure you want me when you have all of this?” You nodded outwards.

“What do you mean?” His brow furrowed, clearly confused. You gestured again vaguely to the room, to the crowd, to the friends and the girls in Bellingham jerseys who were still lingering around.

“All of this… all these people, all these options. Why would you want me when you have everything?” You muttered. If you told yourself that you would be asking a boy if you were enough from him before you met Jude you would’ve laughed in your own face. You would’ve shook yourself by the shoulders and told yourself to get it together. But the way Jude’s face softened, and without missing a beat, he cupped your face in his hands reminding you that things had changed. You had changed.

“All of this is nothing… Don’t want it if I don’t have you. Game’s not nearly as fun if I don’t get to see you after. Dedicating goals to you, angel. You’ve changed the game for me.” His words were firm, unwavering. But before you could respond, he took your hand and, without a second thought, turned and led you out of the room. You barely had time to process what was happening as you left the box’s lounge, leaving everyone behind. The suddenness of it caught you off guard, but he didn’t stop until you were both in the quiet of a hallway, away from prying eyes. Jude led you out from the lounge, past the stands, down the halls and onto the pitch. You hadn't expected him to keep going, but before you knew it, you were walking across the hallowed turf of the Bernabéu. The stadium was massive-empty now, but the weight of its size pressed in on you. It was surreal. You were standing at the center of the pitch where history was made, where Jude played his heart out in front of thousands upon thousands and millions on tv. Your eyes were wide, taking in the vastness of it all.

"This place is huge, oh my God..." You almost gasped but Jude wasn't letting you finish.

"Kiss me," he said, his voice low but insistent, pulling your attention back to him.

"What?" you asked, giggling nervously.

"Kiss me," he repeated. His gaze was steady, unwavering. "If you want to know that I'm serious about us, kiss me. Right here." You blinked, caught off guard by the intensity of his words.

"No," you teased with a playful smile. "You kiss me." You taunted. Before you could say anything else, Jude grinned and silenced you with a kiss. His lips met yours with a hunger that sent a spark through you, making the enormous stadium feel like it was just the two of you. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. Your body melted into his, the world around you disappearing for that moment. When you finally pulled away, you couldn't help but laugh, a little breathless, filled with disbelief. You were standing in the middle of the Bernabéu, making out with Jude as if it was the most normal thing in the world. The absurdity of it hit you all at once. Then, from above, you heard loud booing echo across the field. You looked up and saw Jobe, Toby, and Winnie standing in one of the boxes, playfully jeering at you both. You laughed, burying your face in Jude's chest as he chuckled along, his arms still wrapped around you.

"Ignore them," Jude said, holding you tighter. He looked down at you with a playful glint in his eyes. "I'd kiss you in front of this place packed full if you'd let me." You raised an eyebrow. smirking.

"Oh, yeah?" you teased with some mocking. He nodded, his cheeky smirk making your heart race.

"I would've done it when the crowd was still here," he said, his tone teasing. "But, y'know, I was kinda busy... in the middle of a match and all. I had the game winner, slightly occupied but…"

You couldn't help but laugh again, shaking your head as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Jude leaned down, pressing another kiss to your lips, softer this time, as if to tell you without words that no one else mattered — just you.

And after your makeout at the center of the pitch the night turned to be one for the books—full of laughter, drinks, and carefree fun. You, Winnie, Toby, Jobe, and their friends went out in Madrid, the energy light and joyful, everyone basking in the post-match glow. You found yourself taking shots with Aurélien. Winnie watched relieved to see your mood shift from tense to carefree.

“Looks like you haven’t taken the party girl out of her yet!” She teased Jude pinching his arm. You laughed, feeling lighter, like everything was just as it should be, with the music thrumming through your body, the night full of possibility. But then Jude was right by your side, and in the heat of the night, you two couldn’t help yourselves. Your lips met, and suddenly, you were kissing like you were the only two people in the room. The music faded into the background, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered. But of course, your moment was interrupted by a chorus of groans from Jobe, Toby, and Winnie, and co.

“Booo! Get a room!” Jobe called out with a teasing grin.

“Grossier.” Aurelien added with a laugh. .

“I did not fly across time zones to third-wheel this!” Even Winnie joined in, mockingly covering her eyes. You pulled away from Jude with a laugh, feeling the high of the night, the warmth of his arms still around you, and the carefree joy of being surrounded by friends. It felt like you were living in a bubble of happiness, everything and everyone in sync, no worries about the future. But the next morning shattered that illusion.You woke up with a hangover, but it wasn’t just the physical pain in your head that hurt—it was the sinking realization that today, you had to say goodbye to Jude. The high from the night before was gone, replaced by a heavy feeling in your chest. It was like a slap in the face, a punch in the stomach, the reality of your situation crashing down all at once.

You had to leave. Jude had to stay. And the uncertainty of when you’d see each other again gnawed at you, making every moment feel that much more bittersweet. The morning you were to leave Madrid felt like the longest, yet the shortest. The hours slipped away, and before you knew it, you were staring at your open luggage, dreading the final moment when you’d have to zip it shut. Jude sat on the floor beside you, silent, arms around your waist as if he could anchor you here with him. The weight of his embrace, usually so comforting, felt unbearably heavy today. Every few minutes, Jude whispered, ‘I love you.’ His voice was soft, as if saying it aloud might keep the inevitable at bay. You wanted to say it back every time, but your throat was tight with emotion, and all you could do was nod and try to focus on folding the last of your clothes. The silence between you wasn’t peaceful—it was thick, oppressive, like both of you were holding your breath, afraid that speaking too much would shatter the fragile moment you had left. When you finally closed your suitcase, you realized you had packed away the sweatshirt you wanted to keep in your carry-on for the plane. A small inconvenience, but in that moment, it felt like too much. You sighed, defeated, and before you could even ask, Jude was already pulling off his own jumper, offering it to you.

“You’ll just take mine, angel” he said quietly, his eyes searching yours. You took it from him, holding it close to your chest, and the familiar scent of him—something you hadn’t even realized you’d grown so accustomed to—hit you all at once. It was like a punch to the gut, and suddenly, everything came crashing down. The dam broke, and tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them. Jude didn’t hesitate. He reached for you, pulling you into a hug so tight it was as if he was trying to fuse you to him, like maybe if he held you close enough, you wouldn’t have to leave. His arms were secure around you, but there was a sadness in the way he held you, a desperate need to make this moment last. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the sobs rising up in your throat, trying to muffle them as you cried into him.

“I don’t want to be apart,” you whispered, your voice breaking. Jude’s breath hitched against your hair, and you felt him tighten his grip on you, his own emotions barely under control.

“I know,” he breathed, his voice rough, thick with his own unshed tears. “ I know… I….I said I’d be strong for you, for us and I will be, but…” He pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears, though his own eyes were wet now, too. “I don’t want you to go. I love you too much. This hurts too much… bening apart” Hearing those words—seeing the pain in his eyes—made your heart twist painfully in your chest. You had always known long distance would be difficult, but this felt like so much more. It wasn’t just about the physical distance, it was the emotional chasm it threatened to create. The thought of being apart from him, of not waking up beside him, not sharing the mundane moments of life, felt unbearable. You leaned into his touch, your forehead resting against his.

“I know,” you whispered back, your voice trembling. “I don’t want to go either. I’m sorry.” You apologized and for a brief moment you weren’t sure why. For a moment, the two of you just stayed like that, foreheads pressed together, sharing the same breath, as if that could keep you connected even after you left. Jude’s hands slid down your arms, pulling you into his lap, and you curled into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your own. It was in perfect sync, like the two of you had always been. But that made it even harder. How could you leave when everything felt so right? When every fiber of your being was telling you to stay, to fight against the pull of time and distance? You clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt. “Why does it have to be this hard?” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

“Because I care so much, we care so much,” he said softly. “Because this matters.” Jude pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there as he tried to find the right words. The room was too quiet now, the ticking of the clock on the wall a cruel reminder that time was slipping away. You could feel the weight of the goodbye pressing down on you, heavy and suffocating. Jude’s hands ran through your hair, slow and deliberate, as if memorizing the feel of you one last time before he had to let go. You pulled away slightly, wiping at your eyes, though the tears wouldn’t stop.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” you choked out, your voice breaking again. Jude’s own tears were finally falling, despite how hard he had been trying to hold them back. He looked at you with a sadness that broke your heart all over again.

“I’m going to miss you more,” he whispered. “Every second.” He kissed you then, gently, tenderly, as if trying to pour all of his feelings into that one moment. His lips were soft against yours, and for a second, it was as if the world stopped spinning, like time itself paused just for the two of you. But it was fleeting, and when you pulled away, reality crashed back down around you. There was nothing left to do but say goodbye. No matter how much you wished you could stay, the world outside of this moment was waiting. Long distance wasn’t just a part of your relationship anymore—it was a reality you had to face, whether you were ready or not.

When you left Jude’s house in Madrid, you were holding back tears, trying to be strong as he walked you to the door. He had offered to come with you to the airport, but you knew it would only make things harder.

“Text me when you’re there, yeah?” Jude said softly, his hand resting on the small of your back as he leaned down to kiss you one last time.

“I will,” you whispered, your voice shaky. You could feel the weight of the impending distance between you, already missing him even though you hadn’t even left yet. Just as you stepped out, Jobe’s voice echoed from the living room.

“Text me too!” he yelled, teasing as always, trying to lighten the mood. You both chuckled, but Jude’s laugh was bittersweet. His heart wasn’t in it, and you could see the sadness in his eyes. As you drove away, Jude stood at the doorway, hands shoved deep into his pockets, watching the car pull out of the driveway. He lingered there for a moment before returning inside. He collapsed onto the couch beside Jobe, forcing a smile, but the silence between them was telling. After a while, Jude reached for his phone, pulling up a message thread. Denise came into the room not long after, a concerned look on her face.

“Has she made it to the airport yet?” she asked, glancing between the boys.

“We need Y/N actually in the family group chat to keep tabs on her.” Jobe, ever the joker, chimed in. Jude grinned, but an idea sparked in his mind. Without hesitating, he created a group chat with all of his family members and, at the last second, added your number too. He sat there for a moment, staring at the screen, before typing…

‘Bellingham's checking in to make sure you’re all set.’

When your phone pinged with the message, you were sitting at the airport gate, trying to compose yourself for the flight. Seeing the notification light up your screen, your heart squeezed at the message. It wasn’t just a casual check-in—it was an inclusion, a subtle way of letting you know you were now part of them, of the Bellingham family. And even though it was just a text, it felt like more than that.Your heart ached, and you typed back a response…

‘Sadly taking off in a few. Thanks for having me. See you all soon xx.’

Almost immediately, your phone vibrated again, but this time it was from Jude’s number.

‘Hope you don’t mind, angel. You being a part of the chat felt right. They miss you already, but couldn’t possibly as much as I do.’

You smiled, but tears pricked at your eyes. You stared at the screen for a moment before typing back,

‘About time I was added! xx' 'Miss you too, more than I can say.’

As the plane taxied down the runway, your thoughts lingered on the warmth of his family, the connection you felt—not just with Jude, but with all of them. Being welcomed into their circle, however informally, made the impending distance feel less daunting. But nothing could quite fill the ache of being away from Jude.

The gallery opening felt like a disaster waiting to happen. Every small detail seemed wrong, and nothing felt like it was coming together. Every day since you left felt disastrous. You’d paced your apartment for hours, rifling through your wardrobe, tossing dresses and outfits onto the bed, convinced nothing looked right. Even your apartment in New York felt stale, disconnected from the life you’d been living with Jude, as if the distance between you both had grown with each day since you left Madrid. You slumped against the closet door, still half-dressed, feeling a sense of frustration bubbling up inside. A sharp knock at the door startled you. With a sigh, you padded barefoot to the door, swinging it open to find a delivery man standing there, a massive bouquet of flowers in his hands. The scent hit you immediately—vibrant, fresh, and full of life. It felt like someone had swung open a window, letting fresh air into your dull space.

“Delivery for Y/N L/N,” the man said with a smile, handing over the bouquet. Your breath hitched as you took the flowers, realizing instantly who they were from. You placed them on the counter, your fingers quickly reaching for the small card nestled within the petals.

“Sorry I can’t be there tonight, Angel. So proud of you. Love you always xx Judey.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You knew it was meant to be playful. The fact that he signed it Judey a nickname he loathed but occasionally would let slide if you said it. A subtle reminder that he was always there, even when he couldn’t physically be by your side. His thoughtfulness, his support—it was a lifeline you hadn’t realized you needed today. You stared at the flowers for a moment, feeling the tension slowly melting away. You had tucked back into your wardrobe to continue on your mission when Winnie barged into your apartment, all business and energy, having flown back to the city for her own work, she had a pit stop in England to see her niece and even though she might’ve missed the England game, she was determined to make it to your show. Her eyes immediately fell on the extravagant bouquet, and she let out an exaggerated pout.

“Ughhh, Judeeyyyy,” she sighed dramatically, plucking the card from the flowers. “He’s so sweet it actually hurts.” You heard her overzealousness and you laughed softly as you stepped out from your wardrobe, half-dressed and still frazzled.

“He’s very sweet and very far away,” you said with a smile, shaking your head with a frown. You spun around to show her the undone zipper of your black asymmetrical mini dress for her to help with.

“Got yourself a good one.” Winnie gave you a teasing smirk, waving the card before she helped. “You and Whit bagged two bestie teammates just leaving me out to dry here.” She joked. It was lighthearted, you both knew that, Winnie currently had her own lovelife saga playing out. You chuckled, but your heart felt lighter, the weight of the day lessened by the presence of Jude’s flowers and Winnie’s unrelenting support. You stood there for a moment, taking in the warmth that came with their love and friendship, realizing that maybe everything wasn’t as chaotic as it seemed. The days leading to the opening to it had been spent scrambling, catching up on everything you had left behind while you were away. The weeks spent working from your laptop were not enough. New York had its pace, and after being gone for so long, it felt like you were out of sync with the city’s rhythm. You barely had time to breathe between finalizing the last touches, overseeing installations, and fielding endless calls from the gallery team. It was all a blur. The actual gallery opening was a whirlwind of frantic activity. And then, in the midst of the chaos of the opening, you heard the familiar hum of the door. You turned, half-expecting another guest or buyer to bombard you with questions, but instead, you were greeted with a smile that made you pause. Louis stood in the doorway, a calm presence in the storm of your evening. His smile was warm, comforting, his toothy grin that reminded you so much of your father. He had RSVPed, of course, but in the frenzy of preparing for the opening, you had completely forgotten. For a moment, you were just happy to see him, your shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.But then, you noticed the figure standing beside him. Gabriel. In truth, Gabriel just happened to be in town, this wasn’t meant to be like a swindling but the sight of him knocked the air from your lungs. You hadn’t expected this. Not tonight. Not ever, really. It had been ages since you had seen him, and in all the chaos of your life recently—your relationship with Jude, the long-distance struggle, your art—you had pushed Gabriel from your mind since Louis used him as a reference point of who’d be better suited for you at the chateau. Yet here he was, standing beside your brother, looking just like he did when you last saw him. That old, familiar pull of history, the memories you’d long since buried, resurfaced in an instant. Your brother, oblivious to the sudden tension tightening in your chest, almost forgetting his suggestion to you in France, walked toward you, his arms outstretched for a hug. You smiled, though it felt tight, your eyes flickering from him to Gabriel as they approached.

“Ouah, you didn’t think I’d miss tonight ma cherie, did you?” your brother said, his voice teasing as he embraced you. But your gaze remained locked on Gabriel, who stood back a little, waiting, watching.

“Non, bien sûr que non” [no, of course not] you managed to reply, forcing your attention back to your brother, hugging him tightly, trying to ignore the weight of Gabriel’s presence just steps away. But when your brother pulled back, Gabriel stepped forward. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you were frozen, caught in a time warp where the past and present collided. You couldn’t tell if the feeling in your stomach was nervousness or something deeper, something unresolved.

“Salut,” Gabriel said, his voice soft, a stark contrast to the loud buzz of the gallery around you. You swallowed, trying to steady yourself. It wasn’t that anything happened between you two, fine, maybe a messy make out at a cotillon, but then you grew up, he ventured more in a straight edged life and judged you for your own path but there was something bizarre that lingered. Maybe it was the intersection of your two families, it was more the idea of you two. Let’s just say Louis wasn’t the first person to suggest the pairing.

“Hi, hi, thank you so much for coming” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. The room felt too small, the noise too loud, and the world seemed to close in around the two of you. “c'est bon de te voir.” [it's good to see you.] Your brother, sensing none of this, launched into conversation, but you could barely focus. All you could feel was the weight of Gabriel’s eyes on you, his presence pulling at something you thought you’d left behind, like your youth or a possible path you could’ve taken in your life. If you were with someone like Gabriel… he’d be here supporting you. This night, this gallery, wasn’t intended to be so reflective of your life ahead. It was about celebrating your present, your art. And now, the past had come back to stand right in front of you.

The night had stretched far beyond what you anticipated. The room, with its artfully arranged displays and soft lighting, blurred around you as the champagne coursed through your system, leaving you slightly tipsy and far too loose in conversation. You found yourself in a tucked-away corner of the gallery, speaking to Gabriel, of all people. You hadn’t intended to spend so much time with him, but once he’d started talking about his mum, the familiar empathy you had for him pulled you in. It wasn’t about you and him—not anymore. There was solace between you two, you thought, like you knew what could’ve been, but you didn’t want that—not anymore. You could tell he was struggling at the party, and maybe, in some subconscious way, you wanted to help. But then again, the champagne made everything feel softer, easier, even this reunion you hadn’t expected. As the conversation deepened, you caught sight of Louis moving through the crowd. His expression was unreadable, a quiet calm masking something far more intense. You didn’t think much of it at first, but then you saw his stride quicken as he made his way toward you and Gabriel. Without a word, Louis slid beside you, draping his arm around your shoulder in a way that only a brother could—protective, almost territorial.

“So, what time’s the kick-off for Jude’s match tomorrow? ”His voice was light, casual, but the undertone was sharp as he asked you. At the mention of Jude’s name, a soft smile tugged at your lips. You couldn’t help it. Even across an ocean, he was still the center of your world, the one person who grounded you amidst all the chaos. But Gabriel… Gabriel hadn’t expected that. He misread the entire situation, and you could see it in the way his posture stiffened, in the way his eyes darkened with confusion. Louis had seen it too, and that’s why he was here.

“Pourquoi? Why are you asking?” you replied, slightly amused, but still a little tipsy, playing along with Louis’s sudden curiosity.

"Oh, je fais juste en sorte que tout le monde ici sache que Jude est ton petit-ami.” [Oh, just making sure everyone here knows that Jude is your boyfriend.] Louis’s voice became more deliberate as he emphasized, almost too casually. He lingered on the word, each syllable dripping with purpose as his eyes flickered to Gabriel.Gabriel blinked, caught off guard, and quickly excused himself. He mumbled something about needing to speak with someone else, but the message was clear: he didn’t like the mention of Jude, and the awkward tension of the moment was enough to make him retreat. Gabriel stepped away feeling like he’d officially lost a battle he hadn’t even known he was in. And the moment Gabriel was out of earshot, you spun toward Louis, incredulous.

“What the fuck was that?” you hissed, not sure whether to laugh or be angry. Louis looked down at you, his brow furrowed.

“Quoi? I didn’t do anything wrong. You were flirting with him.” He explained like it was incredibly obvious. You threw your hands up, exasperated.

“Flirting? With Gabriel? Louis, come on, you know me better than that. I wasn’t flirting—I was just talking to him.” Your voice softened, a mix of frustration and confusion. “And why do you even care?” He crossed his arms, his defensiveness rising.

“Because he’s a twat. He’s not good for you. Jude’s good for you.” Your heart sank at the mention of Jude again, this time not in a happy way, but in the way that reminded you of the ache of missing him. You stared at Louis, searching for an explanation, and after a moment, his expression softened. With a sigh, Louis became sentimental.

“Look, I haven’t seen you this happy in years. Not since grand-mère was alive.” His voice broke slightly, and you could see the sincerity behind his tough exterior. “You’re at peace with Jude. You’re happy in a way you haven’t been in so long, and I…I just don’t want you messing around with someone like Gabriel and forgetting what you have.” The words hit you like a wave, and suddenly, everything felt heavier. You were silent for a moment, caught between understanding and frustration. Louis pulled you into a hug, and you could feel the guilt in his embrace. “I’m sorry Jude’s not here tonight,” he murmured. “But, for what it’s worth, I kind of wish he was. At least then I’d have someone more interesting to hang out with than Gabriel.” Louis smirked. You couldn’t help but laugh at that, though it was bittersweet. You pulled back, looking at your brother with a mixture of affection and exasperation.

“C’est impossible.” [You’re impossible.] You whined through a giggle. Getting Louis’ approval was everything you didn’t know you needed.

“Yeah, well, so are you,” he teased, his smile returning. But you both knew the underlying truth—that Jude wasn’t there, and his absence made everything feel just a little bit off. The night had gone as well as you could have hoped.

The gallery opening was a success, and despite the exhaustion that followed, you went to sleep with a quiet sense of accomplishment. But even in the midst of your personal victory, you missed Jude. It was like an ache just beneath the surface, a longing that tugged at you no matter how proud you were of yourself. When morning light peeked through your curtains, the first thing you did was reach for your phone. Groggy but smiling, you called Jude. His face appeared on the screen, already awake, with that familiar cheeky smirk that always sent butterflies through you. He looked like he was up to something, and you immediately felt a flutter of curiosity mixed with nerves.

“What’s going on with you?” you asked, squinting at the screen, your voice still thick with sleep. He leaned back a little, tilting his head to the side as if showing you something just out of view.

“Angel,” he said in that teasing tone that made your heart skip. “What do you think?” Your eyes widened, taking in the sight of a fresh, small tattoo on his skin—a delicate pair of angel wings, thin and simple, just barely etched into his tanned skin. You blinked, disbelief flooding you.

“Are you fucking nuts?!” you shouted with a grin so wide you couldn’t suppress it. Jude’s smirk only deepened, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“Nah,” he said casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Just want you with me all the time.”

“Oh my god…” All you could manage was breathless shock. He laughed softly, shaking his head.

“If we break up, I’ll just have a nice little reminder of the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.” He teased and you rolled your eyes at his poor joke breaking you out of your state of disbelief. You laughed, your heart racing, a mix of emotions flooding you.

“You’re joking, right? It’s not actually real?” You questioned his authenticity. Something about it felt so ludicrously insane.

“It is,” he said confidently, his grin unwavering. You blinked again, processing the weight of it.

“I love it,” you giggled, “I love you.” Your jaw left still slacked.

“Good. You’re stuck on me now, you know.” He chuckled, his voice softening, Your smile faded into something softer, more serious.

“It’s not though, right? Like, you’re not serious?” You tried to circle back to if this was actually real or not. Jude raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to the camera.

“Dead serious. It’s real, Angel. You’re with me, wherever I go now. Taking the pitch at Wembley with me now. You gonna watch your debut tonight?” He asked with a smirk. You stared at him, still in awe, the reality of what he had done settling in . You weren’t sure whether to laugh, cry, or both. You were only able to nod with a smile. As your FaceTime with Jude ticked by you started to gain a bit more of reality back, he tilted his head to show you the tattoo once over and your mind raced with a million questions.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were doing this? When did you decide? Did you think it hurt?” You fired them off in quick succession, your voice full of excitement and disbelief. Jude chuckled at your barrage, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I’ll answer all your questions, promise, but I really have to get going. Got to get ready for the match later.” His eyes softened as he added, “I just wanted to say good morning, tell you I love you, and… show you this.” He tapped the fresh tattoo with a small grin, almost shy about the whole thing. You couldn’t stop giggling, your heart swelling with every word.

“Well... a good morning, an I love you too, and a… wow,” you said, still processing the image of those delicate angel wings etched into his skin. It felt surreal. You laughed, but it was the kind of laugh that bubbled up because you didn’t know what else to do with the rush of emotions you felt.

“Jude, you’re fucking nuts!” you finally said, shaking your head in disbelief, your cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. He grinned, knowing you well enough to recognize that your laughter was a mix of awe and affection.

“Yeah, well, you make me a little crazy, Angel.” As the call neared its end, you could feel that familiar ache, the distance between you two weighing heavier. But seeing those fine, simple angel wings—his way of keeping you close—made your heart ache in a different way. It wasn’t just sadness; it was love. Pure, brash, unapologetic love. Being apart stung, but knowing Jude had taken such a bold, permanent step to close that gap, to hold onto you even when you were miles away, was more than you ever expected. It was a gesture that meant the world.

“Alright, I’ll let you go,” you said, your voice softening. “But… Jude, seriously—thank you. It’s so sweet, and I… I love it. I love you.” you cooed gently.

“I love you too, Angel,” he replied with a smile that lingered on your screen long after you hung up, leaving you sitting there, still giggling, still in awe of how deeply he loved you. After your call with Jude, you sat in stunned silence for a moment, processing everything. He really did it. He really got a tattoo—for you. Without thinking, you immediately FaceTimed Whitney, your heart still racing with excitement and disbelief.

“Whit, I need you to do me a favor.” As soon as her face popped up on the screen, you blurted out,

“What’s going on?” Whitney raised an eyebrow, sensing the urgency in your voice.

“You cannot tell anyone. I swear to God, he got a tattoo… for me,” you said, your voice filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

“He what?!” Whitney shrieked, causing Teddy to let out a little annoyed yelp in the background.

“Mama! No!” she groaned tiredly, clearly disturbed by the sudden outburst. Whitney let out a soft laugh and an apology to her little girl but her attention was fast back to you.

“I swear,” you repeated, trying to calm your own voice.

“Jude? With a tattoo?” Whitney asked again, her voice laced with confusion as if trying to reconcile the mental image of Jude with ink. “Are you sure?”

“I swear, Whit,” you confirmed, nodding emphatically. “It’s for me…”

“Where?” she asked, now fully invested in the details. A smug smirk formed on your lips.

“Right behind his perfect ear. You can’t really see it unless you’re looking for it—it’s faint, just these little angel wings.” You explained. Whitney leaned closer to her phone screen, almost as if she could see the tattoo through your words.

“And you’re sure it’s there?” she asked, sounding doubtful, not because she didn’t believe you but just out of the pure shock that you were also just in. “I haven’t heard him talk about getting one.”

“Whitney,” you said seriously, leaning in as if to emphasize your point, “Listen to me. Look for it tonight, yeah?” You asked. She let out a breath, still trying to process everything.

“I mean… I’m still stuck on Jude with a tattoo. For you.” She laughed.

“I know,” you agreed, still half in disbelief yourself. “I can’t tell if it was like… a stupid joke, or if he’s actually serious.” You told her with a stupid smile on your face. Whitney’s expression softened into a grin.

“Honestly? I’m shocked but Jude’s kind of impulsive like that, isn’t he?” She shrugged, finally wrapping her head around the whole thing. You nodded, but the thought of him actually getting permanent ink to remind him of you—of how much he cared—left you feeling a little overwhelmed.

“I mean, we talked about tattoos before. It’s not like a huge* surprise he’d get something… Denise has some, Toby, I have some…” You tried to rationalize his decision or downplay it in your mind.

“But you didn’t think he’d get one for you,” Whitney finished for you, her voice laced with teasing.

“Exactly,” you said, biting your lip with a mix of giddiness and uncertainty. “But it’s there, Whit. I saw it.” Whitney let out a laugh, still shaking her head.

“Well, I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for it when I see him.” She confidently smirked ready to do whatever job you were asking of her.

“Thanks,” you said with a soft laugh. “But seriously, don’t tell anyone. Not yet, at least.” Whitney’s smile changed into one more conspiratorial.

“I won’t. But fuck, this is big. Jude Bellingham with a tattoo for his girl? That’s next-level.” She told you with mischief lighting behind her eyes. You giggled, the reality settling in deeper now.

“Yeah… it kinda is.” You admitted. Whitney’s face twisted into a playful grin as she teased,

“I mean, my fiancé doesn’t even have a tattoo for me or, you know, the child I birthed for him, but yeah, sure, good for you. Pussy’s bomb I guess ” she giggled, rolling her eyes in mock indignation. You couldn’t help but laugh along with her, shaking your head.

“Okay, okay! I get it.” But as your laughter subsided, the familiar twinge of insecurity crept in, and you hesitated before speaking again.

“Whit…” you started, your voice dropping a little. “When you go to the game later, can you—” You hesitated, biting your lip. “Will you let me know if there are, like, girls there? Like old girls from Birmingham?” Your question hung in the air for a moment, and Whitney burst out laughing again, though her laughter soon softened into something more sympathetic. She pouted, her eyes softening as she saw the anxiety creeping into your expression.

“Wait, Y/N… come on. Hold up,” she said, shaking her head with a teasing grin. “You’re telling me this boy might have a tattoo for you, and you want me to check for other girls?” She mocked you in an exaggerated tone, mimicking your sheepishness.

“I know! It’s ridiculous,” you admitted, still laughing but feeling a little shy about how transparent your insecurity was.You let out an embarrassed laugh, covering your face.

“Okay,” she said, nodding. “I’ll do both for you. I’ll look for the tattoo and check if any girls are hanging around.” Whitney gave you a softer smile, her teasing easing into reassurance.

“Thank you,” you sighed, grateful but still feeling a bit silly.

“But seriously, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Jude’s all about you, annggell.” Whitney gave you a playful glare, her tone light but firm as she sang the pet name

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 19 - Judey xx

#jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut

112 notes · View notes