jb5 addict

As far as everyone else was concerned, you were simply his assistant. You managed his schedule, dealt with the constant stream of calls and emails, and occasionally told him to stop complaining and put on whatever suit had been laid out for him.

That was it.

At least, that was what everyone believed.

You had eventually found your way over to the bar once you were certain Jude wouldn’t need you for a while. You were halfway through your drink when Thomas, one of the guys from the media team, took the empty seat beside you.

The two of you had worked together plenty of times, so conversation came easily. He told you about something that had happened during preseason—an unfortunate incident involving a microphone that hadn’t been switched off—and you laughed before you could stop yourself.

Across the room, Jude’s attention immediately shifted toward the sound.

He had been pretending to listen to the person speaking to him, but his eyes had already found you at the bar.

You were smiling at Thomas, leaning slightly closer so you could hear him over the music. Thomas said something else, and you laughed again, reaching out to lightly shove his shoulder when he made the story even more dramatic.

There was nothing remotely flirtatious about it.

Jude, however, couldn’t seem to find a single friendly thing about the interaction.

He barely heard the conversation happening around him. His jaw tightened as he watched Thomas turn toward you, giving you his full attention as though there weren’t another hundred people in the room.

Jude hated the feeling that crawled beneath his skin. More than that, he hated that the two of you were a secret.

He hated standing on the other side of the room, unable to walk over and put an arm around you. Unable to kiss your cheek or make it abundantly clear that you were going home with him.

Instead, he had to stand there and watch some other bloke make his girlfriend laugh.

By the time he excused himself from the conversation, he was already fuming.

You didn’t notice him approaching until his arms appeared on either side of you, his palms pressing against the bar as he leaned in from behind. His chest brushed lightly against your back.

“I’m about to head home,” he said. “You want me to drop you off at yours?”

It sounded innocent enough to anyone listening but you knew exactly what it meant.

Let’s go home.

You also knew immediately from his voice that something was wrong. His tone was too controlled, every word clipped around the edges.

You glanced at him over your shoulder. “Oh, um—yeah. Sure.”

You reached for your bag, but Thomas spoke before you could stand. “If you want to stay longer, I can drop you off.”

You opened your mouth, ready to thank him and politely refuse, but Jude answered first. “She’s good, bro.”

His hand settled against your lower back as you rose from the barstool. The touch was subtle enough not to attract attention, but the gentle pressure of his palm left little room for argument as he guided you through the room.

You waited until you were safely inside the car before looking at him. Jude didn’t say anything as he pulled out of the car park. His eyes remained fixed on the road, one hand wrapped tightly around the steering wheel while the other rested near the gearshift.

The silence stretched between you.

You watched him for another minute, expecting him to say something, but he only clenched his jaw.

“Okay, what’s with you?” you asked.

“Nothing.”

“You’re never this quiet. Did something happen?”

“No.” His voice was stern. “Nothing happened.”

You turned in your seat to face him properly. You already had an inkling that this had something to do with Thomas offering to drive you home. Judging by Jude’s mood, though, you suspected it had started well before that.

“What’s up with you?” you asked. “Why are you mad? Did I do something? Because I only recall enjoying myself at the event. That’s about it.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Enjoying yourself for sure.”

Your eyebrows pulled together as it fully clicked. “Oh, so that’s what this is about.”

He didn’t respond, which was confirmation enough. Jude pulled into the car park beneath your shared apartment building, barely bringing the car to a complete stop before you unclipped your seat belt.

“If you’re insinuating what I think you’re insinuating, then not only are you blind, but you’re an idiot.” You said before pushing the door open and climbing out.

Jude followed seconds later. “Oh, I’m blind?”

You kept walking toward the entrance.

“You were laughing with him like he was the funniest person you’d ever met,” he continued, following closely behind you. “And I’ve had conversations with that bloke. He’s so awfully boring—”

You stopped in your tracks and turned around. Jude nearly walked straight into you.

“You don’t get to put people down and act like an asshole because you’re jealous,” you said. “He’s a perfectly normal person, and you know what? He did say something funny.”

Jude’s mouth opened, but you didn’t let him interrupt.

“Whatever you’ve been insinuating was dead wrong. Nothing happened. Nothing was going to happen. And the fact that you’d even think that of me is actually hurtful.”

His expression faltered.

You turned away before he could respond, leaving him standing alone in the nearly empty car park.

By the time you reached the apartment, the anger had begun to give way to exhaustion.

You took a quick shower, washed off your makeup, and changed into an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts before climbing into bed. You pulled the covers over yourself and turned onto your side, facing away from the empty space beside you.

Jude still hadn’t come upstairs.

Part of you wondered if he had gone for a drive to clear his head. Another part of you was grateful for the time alone because you didn’t trust yourself not to start another argument the second you saw him.

Nearly twenty minutes passed before you heard the front door click open.

His footsteps moved quietly through the apartment. They paused outside the bedroom before the door slowly opened.

You didn’t turn around.

Jude stood there for a moment, staring at your back as he tried to figure out what he could possibly say to fix what he’d done.

The truth was, he felt horrible.

You hadn’t given him any reason not to trust you. You had been having a harmless conversation with someone you worked with, and he had allowed his own jealousy to turn it into something it wasn’t.

He knew he’d been possessive.

He knew he’d been unfair.

He just hated seeing another man make you laugh. Hated having to stand on the other side of the room and pretend you were nothing more than the person responsible for keeping his schedule organised.

But none of that was your fault.

The mattress dipped behind you as he climbed onto the bed.

“Y/N,” he said softly.

You remained quiet.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” His arm hesitantly slipped around your waist. When you didn’t push him away, he moved closer, gently pulling your back against his chest. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into your hair.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hold tightening slightly. “I’m such an idiot.”

You let out a quiet breath, hearing him repeat low apologies against you.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry please forgive me baby” he said in a shaky whisper.

Despite yourself, your hand moved to cover his where it rested against your stomach.

Jude went still at the touch.

After a moment, you turned around in his arms. He looked genuinely miserable. His brows were drawn together, and guilt sat heavily across his face. He watched you cautiously, like he wasn’t sure whether you were about to forgive him or tell him to sleep on the sofa.

“You can’t do that, Jude,” you said with a sigh. “You can’t act like that whenever I talk to someone of the opposite gender.”

“I know.” He nodded immediately. “I know, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

Your hand came to rest against his chest.

“I just—fuck, Y/N, I don’t know what comes over me.” He placed his hand over yours, holding it firmly against his heartbeat. “I feel something right here, and it makes me feel physically sick. I know it’s wrong. I know I shouldn’t feel like that.”

You studied his face.

It didn’t excuse how he had spoken to you, but you knew where it came from. Keeping the relationship private had been harder on him than he liked to admit. Jude was affectionate by nature, and every public event forced him to keep a careful distance from you when all he wanted was to pull you closer.

“It’s okay,” you said quietly. “Listen to me, yeah? Next time you feel like that, come and join the conversation. Or let me know, and we’ll work through it.”

He nodded.

“But you can’t come to conclusions on your own. That feels like you don’t trust me, and if you don’t trust me, then that’s an entirely different—”

“No, no.” Panic flashed across his face. “It’s not that. I trust you.”

“Jude—”

“I trust you completely. I do.” His fingers tightened around yours. “I just hate that everyone thinks you’re available. I hate that I can’t walk over and tell them you’re not.”

“You don’t need to tell them. I know I’m not.” you said gently.

“I know.” His expression softened, though the guilt remained. “I know that.”

“You can be jealous,” you told him. “You can’t punish me for it.”

“I won’t.” He shook his head. “I promise.”

You watched him for a moment, making sure he understood you.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said, his voice beginning in a rush before fading into a quiet whisper. “I love you so much.”

Your expression softened. “I love you too.” You lifted your free hand and cupped his jaw. Jude immediately leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment as though the simple gesture had taken a weight off his chest.

His hand moved from yours to cover the one resting against his face.

He turned his head and pressed a slow kiss into your palm, then another just beneath it. His lips travelled down to the inside of your wrist, lingering against your skin. A small, breathy sigh slipped from you.

Jude looked up.

He moved closer, his eyes shifting between yours and your lips. His nose brushed lightly against yours, but he hesitated, waiting for you to decide whether he was forgiven enough for this.

“Jude,” you whispered.

Before you could tell him to kiss you, he leaned forward. His lips barely brushed yours at first, the touch soft and uncertain. When you didn’t pull away, he kissed you properly.

It was slow—nothing like the restless jealousy that had followed the two of you home. His hand slid carefully around your waist while yours remained against his jaw, keeping him close.

He kissed you like an apology.

Like he needed you to understand that beneath all the jealousy and possessiveness, he knew you were your own person. You weren’t something he owned, and loving you didn’t give him the right to treat you as though you were.

When he eventually pulled back, he didn’t go far. His forehead rested against yours, his thumb moving gently over your side.

“I really am sorry,” he murmured.

“I know.”

“Still think Thomas is boring, though.”

You stared at him with a straight face, trying not to smile and ruin the deadpan expression.

Jude pressed his lips together, immediately regretting it. “That was an unnecessary joke-I’m very sorry”

you couldn’t help but blow out a laugh, quickly pressing your lips together in an attempt to hide it.

Jude’s expression softened immediately. “There she is,” he murmured, the faintest smile pulling at his mouth.

the sheepish look on his face made the corner of your mouth twitch. His arm tightened around your waist as he tucked you against his chest, pressing one last kiss to your forehead.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

Jude simply held you beneath the covers, his fingers tracing slow patterns against your back. The jealousy hadn’t disappeared entirely, but the ugliness of it had. In its place was the quiet understanding that next time, he would speak to you before letting it consume him.

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author’s note: hiii cute little jealous jude one shot :D writing chap 20 of my way and it’s coming out pretty soon dw :3

⟡ click here for my Jude bellingham masterlist