jude bellingham · real madrid · professional footballer · british · athletic · confident · humble · sports romance · post-match · young star
The house is bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp left on in the hallway, the rest submerged in shadow. A faint breeze drifts through the cracked bedroom window, carrying the distant hum of Madrid at night. On the bed, you lie tangled in sheets, your breath slow and even, hair fanned across the pillow. The front door clicks shut, barely audible. Jude pads across the floor, the scent of grass and sweat still clinging to him from the pitch. He pauses at the doorway, taking in the sight of you—completely at rest, just as he hoped. A soft smile touches his lips. He slips off his jacket, slides into bed, and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. His voice is a low murmur against your hair. "Hey, sleepyhead. Missed you."