Page lowk dedicated to my fine shyt: Djed Spence

“Good morning, baby.”

His voice, still raspy from sleep, sent a flutter of butterflies through your stomach. You hadn't even heard his bare feet against the hardwood, but your body had been waiting for him anyway. Before you could turn, his massive frame surged up behind you, enveloping you against his body.

His hands slowly made contact with your oversized t-shirt — one arm anchoring your left side while the other slid slightly beneath the hem, his fingers tracing a quick but deliberate line across your belly, as if by accident. But this habitual touch felt entirely intentional despite his half-asleep haze.

Then his massive frame leaned in closer, and you offered your cheek for a kiss.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” you said.

Djed shifted slightly, leaving another quick kiss slightly lower, right on your jawline. Sensing he was about to pull back and and the moment would be lost, you quickly rubbed your cheek, as if wiping away the exact spot his lips had just touched. You tried your absolute best not to laugh, feeling him literally freeze mid-breath for a second.

You held your breath, staring intensely at the cutting board.

A heavy silence fell over the kitchen.

You waited a beat, testing if there would be a reaction. Then you continued slicing strawberries, forcing your hands to stay steady while your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs. You almost regretted positioning yourself so that you couldn't see his face right now. At least the camera’s catching this, you thought, fighting the sudden urge to burst out laughing.

“Do you want a smoothie?” you asked, keeping your tone as light as you possibly could considering the circumstances.

He didn’t answer. Instead, the silence between you thickened, broken only by the quiet thud of your knife against the cutting board.

You kept your eyes fixed on the fruit, bracing yourself for whatever was coming next.

The touch arrived without warning. Acting purely on impulse, Djed wrapped his fingers around your wrist, his grip gentle as featherdown yet firm enough to hold the knife mid-air, and turned your entire body around to face him with effortless strength.

You ended up pressed back against the edge of the counter, trapped in the warm shadow of his frame.

He quietly disarmed you, taking the knife from your limp fingers and placing it safely out of reach before bringing his hand back to rest heavily on your hip.

He stood there in nothing but his boxers, a picture of lazy, sculpted perfection in the morning sun. His chest bare, warm, and utterly distracting, basically welcoming you into a soft hug. You had to physically fight the urge to let your hands wander over the sculpted plane of his torso, and not to bury your face into the crook of his neck right then and there. Instead, you forced your eyes upward to meet his.

He squinted down at you, a single eyebrow raised. He didn't say a word; just searched your face to figure out if you were actually being serious.

Then, with an almost hesitant tenderness that made your throat go tight, he leaned down and pressed a single, tender kiss right into the center of your forehead. Something about the location — so gentle, so reverent, almost like he was suddenly afraid to touch your cheeks and he was genuinely worried he’d somehow made you uncomfortable — struck a sharp pang right in your chest.

The sweetness of it almost broke you. But you committed to the bit.

Keeping your expression completely blank, you raised your hand once more and slowly dragged your knuckles across your forehead, wiping the spot dry just to seal the prank.

For a second, his eyes widened, his lips parted in pure shock as if he were completely lost for words.

Seeing his usually unbothered self in total disbelief and genuinely baffled by a single gesture was your breaking point. A tiny smirk broke across your lips, and you couldn't resist wiping your forehead one last time.

The moment that smirk registered, the thick tension hanging in the kitchen dissolved in an instant. The air shifted completely, the subtle edge of confusion melting as his eyes narrowed in pure realization. A quiet laugh vibrated deep within his chest, the corners of his lips curling into a fond grin as he realized he’d been played.

“Oh, you think you’re funny, huh?” he sighed, rolling his eyes as a low chuckle vibrated in his throat. “Unbelievable.”

Before you could even squeeze out a laugh, his hands slid up to frame your face, his thumbs sweeping over your cheekbones. He leaned in and thoroughly covered your face in a cascade of slow, heavy, suffocating affection: pressing soft, firm kisses to your cheek, your temple, your forehead, the tip of your nose, and down your jawline until you were squirming and giggling in his grip. Every brush of his mouth sent a wave of heat through you, his touch impossibly soft against your bare skin.

You were laughing outright now, playfully turning your head to dodge him, but he held you effortlessly in place until his lips finally found yours.

What started as a punishment turned deep and heated instantly. Djed parted your lips with a low hum, his tongue sliding against yours with a lazy confidence that stole the air right out of your lungs. His hands slid down to clamp firmly around your waist, pulling your hips flush against his bare front.

When he finally let you catch your breath, he pulled back just an inch, his thumb tracing over your swollen bottom lip. His eyes burned down into yours, still heavy with a sleepy glow.

“Try wiping that one off,” he whispered.

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you believed him. you always believed him.

that's the problem, maybe. you've believed in jude bellingham for so long that the believing has calcified into something else, something denser and more dangerous, something you carry around in the center of your chest like a stone you swallowed years ago and never could cough back up. you don't remember when it shifted—when looking at him started to feel like looking at the sun, when his voice on the phone started to make your throat tight, when you started lying awake at night in your flat thinking about the way he hugs you, full-body, arms around your shoulders and face in your hair, holding on like he's afraid you'll disappear. there wasn't a single moment. it was all of them. it was gradual and then it was sudden and now it's just the shape of your life, this quiet relentless ache that lives under everything you do.

he doesn't know. obviously he doesn't know. because jude bellingham—your jude, your best friend, the boy who once ate seventeen chicken nuggets on a dare and threw up behind the bike sheds—could have anyone. literally anyone. models message him. singers follow him. women with perfect teeth and perfect bodies and perfect lives slide into his dms and leave heart emojis and you've seen them because he shows you, laughs about it, scrolls through his notifications with you leaning against his shoulder on the sofa, and every single time it's like swallowing glass. you smile. you laugh. you say she's fit, mate, go for it, and something behind your sternum cracks a little more and you plaster over it with banter and ease and the careful, practiced performance of being fine.

you are so good at being fine.

it's a friday night and he's home. that's still a novelty—him being home, somewhere in england in this flat that's too big and too clean for a twenty-something who still buys cereal based on whatever cartoon is on the box. he texted you three days ago: back friday. come over? need to see you, been ages. and you'd typed and deleted fourteen different responses before settling on course, see you at 7, like it was nothing, like your hands weren't shaking.

you're on his sofa now. he's in joggers and a hoodie, socked feet tucked up on the cushions, and you're tucked into the other end with a glass of wine he'd poured for you without asking because he remembers that you drink red, not white, and that you like it room temperature, not chilled, because you told him once four years ago on a night out in london and he just—filed it away. he does that. remembers things. small things, stupid things, things that don't matter, and every time he demonstrates one of them it's like a small knife between your ribs, precise and clean.

"you hungry?" he says, scrolling through his phone. "was gonna order thai. that place you like."

"the one with the really good—"

"yeah. green curry, extra basil, no prawns because you're—"

"allergic, yeah."

he looks up and grins and it's the same grin from when he was fourteen and scuffed his knee playing five-a-side and you'd pressed your sleeve against it to stop the bleeding, both of you crouched behind the goal, and he'd said you're well annoying, you know that and you'd said then stop bleeding on me and he'd laughed so hard he'd started bleeding again.

"green curry, extra basil, no prawns," he repeats, already typing it into the app. "see? i listen sometimes."

"shock," you say, and pull your knees up, tucking your feet under the throw cushion. he catches the movement—catches the fact that your feet are cold, probably, because two minutes later he's reaching over and pulling the blanket off the back of the sofa and dropping it over your legs without a word, without even looking away from his phone.

you want to scream.

instead you say, "thanks," and he says, "mm," and that's it. that's the whole exchange. it's nothing. it's everything.

the food comes and you eat on the sofa because neither of you is interested in the dining table, which is currently covered in unopened post and a ps5 controller and a cap he wore to training once and never moved. he puts something on the tv—a film, something with explosions, you're not paying attention—and you settle back into the cushions with the blanket pulled up to your waist and your wine in your hands and the warm full feeling of green curry in your stomach and jude bellingham three feet away from you on the same sofa.

he moves closer during the film. not all at once. it's incremental, a slow tectonic shift, like he's doing it without realizing. first he stretches his legs out, bare ankle brushing yours under the blanket. then his arm comes along the back of the sofa—not around you, just behind you, resting there, his fingertips a few inches from your shoulder. then he shifts his weight and his knee is pressed against your thigh, warm through the blanket, and he doesn't move it.

"this film's shit," you say.

"yeah."

"why are we watching it?"

"dunno. didn't want to talk over anything good."

you turn to look at him and he's already looking at you, and there's something in his expression that you can't—there's something there, warm and heavy and unreadable, and it makes your breath catch. his eyes drop to your mouth for half a second, so quick you almost imagine it, and then back up, and he smiles, small and crooked, and says, "what?"

"nothing."

"you're staring."

"i'm not staring, i'm looking. it's my face, i can look wherever i want."

"that's my face, actually."

"well i'm looking at it."

"yeah," he says, quieter now, and the corner of his mouth twitches. "i noticed."

the silence stretches. his knee is still pressed against your thigh. his fingers are still resting on the sofa behind your shoulder, not touching you, not not-touching you. the film plays, ignored, blue light flickering across his face, catching the line of his jaw, the shadow of stubble he hasn't shaved since he got back. your heart is hammering so loud you're sure he can hear it.

"i missed you," he says, and his voice has gone soft, the way it does when it's late and it's just the two of you and the performance falls away. he says it like it costs him something.

"missed you too."

"no, like—" he stops. runs a hand over his face, rough, scrubbing. "i mean. it's different now. when i'm away. used to be i'd miss home, miss mum, miss the dog. now it's—i just miss you. specifically. like, all the time. first thing i think about when i wake up."

he says it like a confession and you can feel the blood drain from your face, then rush back, hot and prickling. your hand tightens on the wine glass. "jude—"

"not like—you know what, forget it." he laughs, but it's off, thin at the edges, and he looks away, jaw tight. "didn't mean to make it weird."

"you didn't make it weird."

"i made it weird."

"jude, you literally didn't—"

"it's fine. s'fine. i just—" he exhales hard, tips his head back against the sofa, stares at the ceiling. his throat is long and brown and his adam's apple bobs when he swallows and you want to put your mouth on it so badly your teeth ache. "i think about you a lot when i'm gone. like, more than mates, probably. more than is normal. and i know that's—it's whatever. you don't have to say anything, i just needed to stop pretending, yeah? it's doing my head in."

the room is very quiet. the film is still playing. somewhere outside, a siren wails and fades. your heart is in your throat, pounding, and you can't feel your hands.

"more than mates," you repeat, slowly, like you're testing the words.

he doesn't look at you. he's still staring at the ceiling, jaw clenched, and there's a flush creeping up the back of his neck, red against brown. "yeah."

"jude."

"don't—seriously, don't say it if you don't—i know you don't feel—" he stops again, grinds his teeth, and his hand on the back of the sofa curls into a fist, knuckles tight. "i've thought about it for ages, right? years, actually. but you're—you're my best friend. you're the most important person in my life. and i'd rather have you like this than not at all, so i just. i've kept it to myself. but tonight i just—" he laughs again, cracked and helpless. "i can't. i can't sit here and pretend anymore. it's killing me."

you're going to cry. you can feel it building, hot and tight behind your eyes, and you blink hard, setting the wine glass down on the coffee table with a click because your hands are shaking too badly to hold it.

"jude, look at me."

he doesn't.

"jude. look at me."

he turns his head, slow, like it's the hardest thing he's ever done, and his eyes are wide and dark and terrified and soft all at once, and you can see it now, everything you missed, everything you explained away—the way he watches you when he thinks you aren't looking, the way he remembers the small things, the way he pulls you into hugs that last three seconds too long, the way his hand always finds the small of your back in crowds, the way he said i just miss you, specifically, like it was a confession he'd been carrying for years.

"you idiot," you whisper, and his face falls, and you grab the front of his hoodie and pull him toward you and kiss him.

he freezes. for one horrible second he's completely still, rigid, like he can't process what's happening, and then something breaks in him—audibly, almost, a sharp exhale through his nose—and his hand comes up to cradle your face and he kisses you back. his mouth is warm and a little chapped and he kisses you like he's been starving for it, slow and deep and desperate, his fingers sliding into your hair, his other arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him. you climb into his lap because you can't get close enough, knees on either side of his hips, and he makes a sound against your mouth, a groan or a whimper or something in between, and his hands spread wide across your lower back, pressing you against him.

"fuck," he breathes when you break apart, forehead pressed to yours, "fuck, i've wanted—that was—you—"

"shut up," you say, laughing, crying, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "shut up, you absolute idiot, i've been in love with you since we were sixteen."

his whole face changes. the fear drains out and something else floods in—wonder, disbelief, a joy so raw it looks almost like pain—and he says, "what?" in this voice, this small wrecked voice, and you laugh again, helplessly, and kiss the corner of his mouth.

"since we were sixteen, jude. since before that, probably. since forever. since you walked me home and told me you'd play for england and i believed you."

"you—" he stares at you, eyes wide, mouth open. "but you never—you always said i should—you told me to go for it when i showed you those girls'—"

"because i thought you didn't—" you grab his face in both hands, squishing his cheeks slightly, and he looks so stunned and so young and so beautiful that you almost start crying again. "i thought you saw me as a friend. i thought i was just the girl from home. i thought—"

"are you serious right now?" his voice cracks. "you thought i—i literally almost didn't sign for real madrid because it meant being further away from you. jobe has a voice note of me crying about it, if you need proof—"

"you cried about real madrid?"

"i cried about you, you muppet, because i thought if i left you'd meet someone and i'd—i'd lose you and i couldn't—" he stops, swallows hard, his jaw working. his hands are trembling where they rest on your waist. "i've been in love with you since we were kids. since before i knew what it meant. everything i've done, every milestone, every good moment—my first thing was always to call you. did you never notice that? did you never think that was weird?"

"i thought you were just being you."

"being me is being in love with you!" he says, almost angrily, and then catches himself, and the anger dissolves into something helpless and awed. "that's just—that's what being me is."

you stare at him. he stares at you. the film is still playing, forgotten, the blanket tangled around your legs, his hands warm and steady on your waist. his thumb traces a small circle against your hip, absently, like he's doing it without thinking, and it sends a shiver through you so intense that your breath hitches.

"how long?" you whisper. "how long have you—"

"i don't know. forever? year ten? that night at katie's party when you wore that blue dress and i couldn't stop looking at you and denze said, oh mate, you're gone, and i was like, shut up, and he was right. he was so right. i was gone."

you remember that party. you remember the blue dress. you remember him standing in the kitchen with a warm beer, watching you dance, and you'd thought—no, you'd hoped—but then he'd gone home early and you'd decided you'd imagined it.

"all this time," you say softly, and it's not a question.

"all this time," he confirms, and pulls you closer, wraps his arms around you and tucks his face into your neck, and you can feel him shaking, fine tremors running through his shoulders. "all this bloody time, and you—you too? this whole time?"

"this whole time."

"fuck," he says, muffled against your skin. "we're so stupid."

the hype never stopped for jude bellingham. press conferences mixed into sponsored posts, people with earpieces tracked his every step, and expectation soared in heights only he could see. but on rare saturday afternoons, like this one, the sun slowly heading down, the city reduced to a distant noise.

you were already in his bed when he came back from the kitchen, phone lifted toward your face, a manchester united highlight reel playing muted on the tv. he dropped down beside you, sinking into the pile of pillows, close enough to feel the warmth of your body. you both started the morning with donuts, walked the park with coffees going cold in your hands, and now letting yourselves be pulled by the laziness of the day with nowhere to be.

he liked you best like this, relaxed and happy, wearing a worn t-shirt you clearly stole from his laundry basket the last time you visited. your eyes carried that sparkle he’d known for years. with you, he could be unfiltered and messy, knowing you’d already seen the worst of him and never had a pinch of judgment.

you scrolled through an account on his phone until you were both breathless with laughter, jude burying his face in a pillow to muffle the sound. when you copied his accent back at him, he threw a sock at your head, which you fought back by driving a cold foot into his ribs.

the conversation between you and jude carried. the topics were as different as the colors of the sunset outside his window, his teammate with an ego larger than the stadium they played in, the latest tiktok trends that had you both attempting ridiculous dances, and the playful jokes about his lack of a driver’s license despite his fame. somewhere in the middle of it, the conversation turned, toward relationships, and eventually, towards sex.

you had always been open about your disasters, like the guy who cried after three minutes or the college guy who wanted to roleplay, which you had no idea what that meant. jude half-listened and half-watched the ceiling fan turn slow, until he asked you about your best experience and your answer came back so unsure that he did a double take.

“what? you’re telling me none of them were even average?”

a flush bloomed on your skin, caught off guard by his curiosity. “didn’t say that. it’s just— not that deep, i guess.”

jude went quiet, small lines decorated between his brows and he rolled onto his side to face you. “ah, seriously. you’ve never even let anyone go down on you?”

you picked at a loose thread on his sheets, your eyes fixed somewhere below. “not really, no. why, you think i’m boring?”

“nah.” he watched you. “i’m just trying to understand.”

you didn’t answer, and the silence stretched, and that’s when he felt it, the genuine embarrassment. the urge to rethink rose in him, but something kept him in place. “so how far have you actually gone?”

your voice dropped to almost nothing, just a whisper. “not far. never actually— y’know done the whole thing.”

he pushed himself up on one elbow. “wait. really?”

you shrugged, eyes lifting to the ceiling. “never found the right person, or the right time.”

something shifted in the air between them, subtle and challenging. heat slowly crawled up the back of jude’s neck, he’d thought about you that way, only a few times, but not completely, until this exact moment when the full weight of what you’d said landed on him.

he bit the inside of his cheek, choosing his words carefully. “that’s mad. you’re amazing, you know that? anyone would be—”

“if you finish that sentence,” you said flatly, “i’m jumping out your window.”

he laughed, but it came out weaker than usual. “right. sorry.” he watched you for a moment longer, the way your lips parted slightly, and the fluttering of your lashes.

his arm shifted, feathering against your waist. he kept his voice casual, or trying to. “you ever wanted to? with someone you actually trust?”

you considered it and then met his eyes, your expression unclear. “maybe. yeah, i guess.”

his mouth went dry at your answer. just the two of you and the slow turn of the ceiling fan and the playlist faintly playing softly from his speaker.

“not to be a donut,” he said, voice dropping low, “but if you ever wanted to try it ... i wouldn’t fuck it up. i’d take care of you.”

you laughed, filled with the humor of his statement. “what, you offering to be my first?”

“just saying.” he kept his tone plafyul, but his thumb had already started moving, small and slow circles against the fabric of your shirt at your waist. “could do worse.”

it wasn’t a joke and you both knew it wasn’t a joke. the laughter faded and an emotion took its place, dangerous and wanting, pressed against the walls of the room.

you nodded with your cheeks burning. "i mean— alright, sure." the heat starting low in your belly had nothing to do with embarrassment.

jude’s dark eyes moved over your face, warm and focused, the same focus he brought to everything that mattered. he leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull back, and pressed his mouth to yours. it was soft at first and then his hand curved around your jaw and he kissed you deeper, his tongue sliding against yours, a low groan shaking in his chest. you tasted mint on his breath and felt the tickle of his stubble drag across your chin, and your fingers curled absentmindedly into the fabric of his shirt.

his hand moved to your breast, palm warm through the thin material, thumb tracing your nipple until it stiffened under his touch. he pulled back just far enough to look at you, his eyes dark and longing. “you’re already so eager,” he murmured, voice rough. “that’s good, that’s exactly what i want to see.”

clothes came off slowly, moving his hands gentle and patient, pausing whenever you tensed, waiting until you exhaled and softened again before moving further. when his fingers finally slipped between your thighs, they came back slick, and the sound you made was helpless, your hips pushing towards him before you’d decided to move.

jude exhaled through his nose, jaw tight with need. he pressed his lips to your inner thigh, then higher, and when his tongue finally found your cunt, he licked a long, slow stroke up through your folds, you gasped and grabbed a fistful of his curls without thinking.

he groaned against you, the vibration sending shivers up your spine, and sealed his mouth around your clit. the wet sounds filled the room, and the scent of your juices mixed with the warm musk of his skin as he worked you with focus, noticing every pause of your breath, every clench of your thighs around his head.

he added one finger, then two, curling them forward until your vision blurred and your back arched off the mattress. “breathe,” he said against you, lips brushing you as he spoke. “i’ve got you. just breathe.” your inner walls gripped him, slick and tight. he kept his pace steady, until you shook, your hips bucking, thighs trembling, and a broken sound tearing out of your throat.

he didn’t stop, working you through it, slowing down only when you went weak and oversensitive beneath him, then pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee and moved back up your body.

when he finally lined himself up, his forehead dropped to yours. his breathing came weak now, as if he were second guessing himself. “look at me,” he said quietly. “you tell me if it’s too much. any point, yeah?”

you nodded and he pushed forward, slow, inch by inch, watching your face the entire time. the stretch burned, then bloomed into something fuller and sweeter than you’d expected, your body adjusting around him in real time. he stilled when you tensed, pressed his lips to your temple, your cheek, and the corner of your mouth. “you’re doing so well,” he breathed. “you feel incredible. just stay with me.”

when he began to move, it was with long, pulsing strokes, his weight balanced on one forearm beside your head, his free hand sliding between your bodies to find your clit again. the bed shifted beneath you, his breathing roughened as the room filled with the slick sound of skin against skin, his rough exhales, and the small desperate noises you couldn’t hide.

through a wave of pleasure, you managed to gasp out, “jude, i—”

he cut you off with a soft kiss, his hips rolling smoothly against yours. “shh, just feel it,” he murmured against your lips. “ please let go.”

he angled your thigh higher, opening you further, and drove deeper, and the sound you made then was something you’d never heard yourself make before. he answered it with a low, hoarse groan against your ear. “right there,” he rasped. “that’s it. i feel you clenching. such a sweet girl for me.”

his thumb moved faster as you clenched around him, helpless and desperate, as he swore under his breath, a rough and emotional sound, pressing his chest to yours, sweat coated skin against skin, and his heart hammering against your ribs. “you were made for this,” he breathed, the words soft and honest, removed of any boundaries. “no one else. j-just me.”

“jude,” you managed to gasp out between moans, “please don’t stop.”

he groaned in response, the sound low and real. “never,” he promised, his movements growing more sloppy as you both rushed towards the edge.

loud and desperate grunts pushed through the thick air as jude slammed his hips forward, his thick cock driving deep with every desperate snap. sweat slicked skin slapped against skin, the wet squelch of your mixed cum and slick coating his cock filling the room like a filthy song. “you’re so fucking perfect.” he rasped against your ear, voice left raw.

“i love you, fuck, so much,”

your body shook around him in a rush, your pussy clenching in tight pulses that milked every inch of him, hot waves of slick gushing out to soak his balls and the sheets beneath you. your vision breaking into black darkness behind your eyelids as you cried out. he groaned, low and wrecked, hips stuttering as he fucked you through every twitch, his cock pulsing hot and thick inside you, flooding you deeper with each thrust until you lay trembling and weak, thighs shaking around his waist.

the silence settled heavy and warm, broken only by the soft rush of night breeze through the open window, carrying the faint scent of nature. jude stayed buried deep, his broad chest exhaling against yours, each breath whispering heat across your neck and the damp space between your chest.

your fingers dragged slow lines down the outline muscles of his back, feeling them loosen under your touch, the faint shake in his frame highlighting the shock still pulsing through your core. the air kissed against your flushed, sticky skin, raising goosebumps where his cum leaked out around his softening length, warm liquid leaking down your ass.

his lips brushed your forehead, soft and wanting, the scrape of his stubble sending a new shiver straight to your overwhelmed clit. your heartbeats moved in sync, his against your ribs, yours pounding back through the afterglow.

jude eased up just enough to catch your gaze in the low light against the bed, his eyes dark and hooded, pupils blown wide with the same longing feeling still mixing between you. “you okay?” he murmured, voice rough, and one thumb stroking the sweat wetness of your cheek.

you nodded, shyly, with a smile tugging at your lips as you met his stare, your inner walls giving one last lazy flutter around him. “yeah,” you breathed, the words thick with satisfaction, your body still buzzing from the stretch and the mess he’d left inside you.

"hey jude?"

"yeah?"

“i love you too.”

𖦹 djed is protective as hell, making sure you always feel completely safe whenever you’re by his side.

𖦹 he never shies away from mentioning you. whether it’s in post-match interviews or casual spurs tiktoks. “she’s my biggest inspiration, i love you baby,” he’ll say with a quick wink straight into the camera, fully aware that you’re going to rewatch that clip a thousand times the second it hits your fyp.

𖦹 he is completely unbothered by what people say about how open he is about you. if someone in a comment section calls him “whipped,” he’ll literally like the comment or quote-reply with a simple smirk emoji.

𖦹 on match days, his pre-game ritual always involves a specific text to you right before he steps out of the tunnel. it’s never a long paragraph, just a simple “watch me” or “doing this for you.”

𖦹 when you’re at stadium games sitting in the family box, he has a habit of scanning the crowd during warmups until his eyes lock onto you. once he spots you, he gives that subtle nod only you recognize, as if checking a box off in his head before he can focus on the match.

𖦹 if he scores? that goal is 100% dedicated to you. it’s pretty rare given his position on the pitch, but the second the ball hits the back of the net, his eyes search the stands for you immediately, pointing straight to his heart and blowing you a kiss before his teammates even tackle him in celebration.

𖦹 he loooves seeing you wear wearing his name t-shirt, and hands you every single new one as soon as it drops. but don’t even dare to ask for another player’s shirt or else he will cutely pout “so you don’t love me anymore? i see how it is..”

𖦹 when he's tired or overwhelmed after training, he won't talk about his bad day right away. instead, he will literally collapse his entire 6-foot frame across your lap on the floor, burying his face into your stomach until he feels his heart rate settle down.

𖦹 you always feel djed’s presence in the room. if you're cooking or sitting at your desk, he’ll wander in, drop his chin onto your shoulder from behind, and just stand there breathing in your neck for two minutes before wandering off without saying a single word.

𖦹 he has a habit of claiming your space. if you leave the couch to grab water, you’ll come back to find him fully stretched out across the entire sofa, wearing your favorite oversized hoodie. when you look at him, he just raises an eyebrow, taps his chest, and waits for you to lay right on top of him.

𖦹 if you two ever have a minor disagreement or tension, djed doesn't do silent treatment or petty drama. he’ll give you twenty minutes to cool off, walk back into the room, sit right next to you, and quietly extend his arm or leg until it's touching yours. and honestly, you can’t even be mad at him for more than twenty minutes when he looks at you with that “i’m sorry” look in his eyes.

𖦹 he is the type to casually handle annoying household things before you even complain about them. wi-fi acting up? he’s already resetting it. heavy package delivered? it’s sitting inside before you even ask. he never points out that he did it, but you always know it.

𖦹 his hand is always on you. whether it’s his fingers loosely looped through your belt loops, or his thumb hooked into your back pocket, he keeps you tethered to him at all times.

𖦹 loves sleep-cuddling where he drapes one massive leg over yours and locks you against his side. if you try to squirm away because he’s too warm, he just let out a sleepy grunt and pulls you two inches closer.

𖦹 when you play games together, djed always find a way to be competitive and win over you. but as soon as he sees you’re not having fun anymore, he’ll quietly hand you his controller, pull you into his lap, and guide your hands through the controls until you win the next round, resting his jaw on your crown while you play.

𖦹 djed doesn't do performative fake-friendliness. he has zero tolerance for men who disrespect women, whether it’s walking right past problematic players in the match lineup without giving them a handshake or instantly unfollowing weird influencers, he stands on his principles silently. seeing how effortlessly he holds his ground without caring about optics is low-key one of the hottest things about him, and it’s the main reason you trust him so completely.

𖦹 HIS GLASSES!! there is something ridiculously soft about the contrast between his athletic frame and him squinting past his glasses at his phone while wearing your oversized clothes. when you lean over to kiss him, his frames bump against your cheek, and he just lets out a quiet chuckle, adjusting them with one finger before pulling you flush against his chest.

𖦹 if you’re sitting on his lap, you have a habit of gently sliding his glasses off his face just to kiss his eyelids or stare directly into his eyes. he’ll let out an amused huff, letting you mess with them before sliding them back into place with his thumb.

𖦹 djed isn't a huge talker during sex. he speaks through eye contact, heavy breathing, and the calloused press of his thumbs digging into your hips.

𖦹 he denies it, but has a specific reaction whenever you whisper praise or his name: his chest heavy-heaves and his grip tightens on your hips. you can feel how much your words affect him physically, even when he tries to stay stoic.

𖦹 he is impossibly gentle with aftercare. while he gets his breath back, his hand just slowly smooths down your spine over and over, pulling you flush against his bare chest until your breathing matches his.

-> reblog to support me, if you enjoyed reading this and please let me know your thoughts in the comments! ཐི❤︎ཋྀ

djed’s eyes softened, a low smirk pulling at his mouth as wrapped you in his arms. "don't do that to me," he whispered, his voice thick. "you know i want you in my bed just as bad. soon, though. real soon."

you swallowed down the pouting feeling, giving his hand one last squeeze before heading over to the dressing room to get ready for bed, already counting down the hours until morning.

you went to bed that night tossing and turning, looking across the dark room at djed’s empty side of the bed and wishing like crazy you were wrapped up in his arms instead.

what you didn’t know was that a recoupling was dropping the very next evening.

unaware of the storm brewing, you spent the entire next day practically glued to djed. you were lounging together in say less, you lay back in his arms, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your bare stomach as y'all talked about any and everything—your families, your favorite memories, life back home, and all the things no one knew about you.

“djed, you do not have six toes.”

“i do, yeah.” he laughs.

“on like one foot?”

“no both. do you want-“

“no i don’t want to see,” you interrupted, you both couldn’t do anything but laugh.

there was a sudden pause in the conversation, and right as you opened your mouth to break the silence, he did too. you both spoke at the exact same time, making you burst into a soft laugh again.

“you go,” he said, his deep voice rich with amusement as he looked down at you, his thumb lightly stroking your waist.

you looked up at him, shifting slightly in his lap so you could see his eyes.

“i just wanted to say... even though it’s early,” you began, biting your bottom lip as a shy smile crept onto your face, “i really do like you, djed.”

a soft, heavy breath escaped his lips as he looked down at you, his thumb lightly caressing your cheek before sliding down to rest against your jawline.

“i like you too, baby,” he said, his deep accent dropping into something so smooth, that made your chest tighten. “i’m not gonna lie to you. nobody else in this villa even crossing my mind.”

you couldn't help the massive smile that spread across your face, your heart doing a little backflip right there in his lap. he leaned down and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you a little tighter, pulling you completely flush against his chest.

“i mean it,” he whispered against your hairline.

you rested your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne, feeling completely content. for the first time since landing on the island, everything just felt right.

“i got a text!”

andreina’s voice shrieked from the pool, instantly breaking the sweet, quiet bubble you two were wrapped up in.

djed’s chest heaved with a heavy sigh against yours, but his grip on you didn't loosen one bit. “here we go,” he muttered, resting his chin on top of your head as the rest of the islanders started scrambling toward the daybeds.

“islanders,” andreina read out loud, her eyes widening as she stared at the screen. “tonight, there will be a recoupling. the boys will choose which girl they want to couple up with. #makingitofficial”

a collective gasp echoed around the villa. mari looked straight at you from across the deck with wide eyes, while alex’s gaze flicked over to you, still wrapped in djed’s arms.

you looked up at djed, and a slow, wicked smirk was already spreading across his face.

“looks like you don't have to worry about sleeping without me tonight,” he whispered in your ear, his fingers giving your hip a squeeze.

you smile at djed, giving his hand one last squeeze before retreating with andreina and mari to one of the lounge couches across the garden.

“are y’all nervous?” mari asks, wringing her hands together in her lap as she looks between the two of you.

“no, not really,” you say, leaning back into the cushions. “i just have this weird feeling that some shit is about to happen.”

“oh my god, please don’t,” mari groans, covering her face. “my nerves are bad enough already.”

“at least there’s an even number,” andreina adds, trying to reassure her, “so we don’t have to worry about anyone going home tonight.”

just as the words leave her mouth, a loud, sharp voice echoes down from the balcony directly above you.

“i thought you said you didn’t want to explore her!”

it’s nikki. and she’s yelling at who you can only assume is sam.

“i never told you that,” sam’s voice snaps back. “i said she wasn’t usually what i go for! i never said she wasn’t pretty or that i didn’t want to get to know her. where is this coming from?”

you, mari, and andreina freeze on the couch, slowly turning your heads up toward the upper deck. you tried your absolute hardest not to eavesdrop, but they were making such a big scene that it was literally impossible to ignore.

across the pool, djed catches your eye, raising his eyebrows like, you see this?

“not them doing this right before a recoupling,” andreina whispers under her breath.

“this is insane,” you mutter, cutting your eyes back up to the balcony as nikki’s voice gets even higher, “i told y'all some shit was about to go down.”

nikki’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and incredulous. “well now what? you don’t want to be with me anymore?!”

“what? i didn’t say that either! why are you acting like this?” sam fires back, throwing his hands up, looking clearly distraught and utterly exhausted by the sudden outburst.

you, mari, and andreina glance at each other with wide eyes, silently agreeing that sitting under the balcony isn't cutting it anymore. you quietly get up and migrate to the other side of the villa, positioning yourselves right by the daybeds so you can actually see the whole scene unfold.

as you get closer to where the rest of the boys are standing, you take in the full setup and your jaw nearly drops.

imani is standing right there, two feet away from sam on the balcony while nikki is standing on the opposite side, practically screaming at him over imani’s head.

“wait, she said all that right in front of imani?” you whisper, leaning into the group, your brows furrowing. “that’s a little weird.”

“i agree, she didn’t have to do that in front of her,” selah says from beside you, shaking her head as she watches the chaos. “like, talk to your man in private, what does this have to do with me?”

djed slides up behind you, his tall frame warm against your back as his arm naturally snakes around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

“people are losing their heads today,” he murmurs into your ear, his voice laced with pure amusement as nikki throws her hands in the air for the hundredth time.

“tell me about it,” you mutter back, leaning into his touch, your eyes glued to the mess.

the rest of the girls decided they had seen enough of the argument and stepped in, pulling nikki and imani away for a sit-down while sam retreated back toward the terrace with the rest of the boys.

all the girls gathered around the circular fire pit, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. nikki was pacing slightly before taking a seat, trying to explain what triggered the whole blowup.

“him and i had a conversation last night where he literally said i was his number one,” nikki explained, her hands moving fast as she spoke, “and that he wasn’t interested in getting to know her. he said that she wasn’t even his type—”

you held up a hand, interrupting her before she could dig the hole any deeper. “nikki. imani is literally right here.”

“no, it’s okay,” imani chimed in quickly. she tried to force a polite smile, but you could tell she was deeply uncomfortable with her name being dragged into it like that. you let it drop for the second, even though you still didn't think it was right to talk about another girl sitting two feet away.

“imani, i’m sorry,” nikki added, turning to her briefly, “i just hate liars. ugh!”

mari interjected, leaning forward on her knees. “nikki, this isn’t any disrespect to you, but did he actually say those exact words, or are you just interpreting it that way?”

“no, he said these things!” nikki insisted, her eyes wide with frustration. “he told me he wanted to be with me! that he saw a whole future with me!”

“how do you feel about what nikki said about sam?” the producer’s voice asked from behind the camera in your confessional.

“well, it really isn’t my place to speak on anyone else’s relationship,” you said, shaking your head slightly. “but i do think that we’ve only been here for two weeks. how could you possibly see an entire life with someone outside of here already? that’s crazy to me. but if he really did say all that to her? then yeah, thats fucked up, and they honestly shouldn’t even be together.”

nikki stood up, smoothing down her dress with shaky hands. “i just... i need a minute, guys,” she muttered, excusing herself to walk back toward the villa.

as soon as she was out of earshot, the heavy tension at the fire pit finally broke. you turned directly to imani, giving her a gentle, sympathetic look.

“i’m sorry you had to be caught in the middle of all that,” you said softly, reaching over to pat her knee. “you’ve literally only been here for a few days and it’s already messy.”

imani let out a long, exhausted laugh, running a hand over her hair. “girl, no, seriously, thank you. i’m so confused.”

“no, for real,” mari added, shaking her head. “we all are, that was definitely a hard watch.”

“it’s just a lot,” imani admitted, looking down at her heels.

“you’re doing nothing wrong,” you reminded her firmly, giving her a reassuring smile. “this is love island. if sam opened the door for a conversation with you, that’s on him to manage, not you. don’t let her make you feel weird about doing what you came to do.”

“thank you, seriously,” imani said, her posture relaxing a little as she gave your hand a squeeze.

alex interrupts your conversation with imani, stepping up with a polite smile. “hey, sorry... do you mind if i steal you for a quick chat?”

“yeah, of course,” you say, giving imani one last reassuring look before following alex up the stairs.

once you both settle down onto the cushions, alex turns to you. “i just wanted to touch base with you. i know we talked about keeping our options open and exploring other people, but... i’ve seen how happy you are with djed, and honestly, i’m really starting to like selah. i just wanted to make sure there weren’t any hard feelings between us.”

“of course not, alex,” you say, a genuine smile breaking across your face. “we’re all friends here. I’m honestly so happy for you.”

“and i’m happy for you,” he says, leaning back with a chuckle. “besides, i was getting real tired of seeing the both of you ogle each other across the bedroom before bed every night.”

“we do not!” you gasp, throwing a pillow at him.

alex gives you a classic knowing look, laughing as he catches the cushion. “yeah, okay. keep telling yourself that!”

you continue to talk and laugh before wrapping the conversation on a sweet note, giving each other a tight hug. before you even realize how fast the afternoon flew by, the lights around the garden start to flicker on, letting you know that it’s officially time to go get ready for the recoupling.

in the dressing room, the smells of hairspray, and perfume fill the air. mari helps you get zipped up into your pink bandage dress while you carefully touch up selah’s lip gloss and blush. across the room, andreina was helping imani curl her hair.

“i’m just so nervous,” selah sighs, looking at herself in the mirror with a pensive expression. “i really like alex... but i like jayden too.”

“well,” you tell her softly, leaning in as you hand her the lip liner, “it’s just a recoupling, babe. you don’t have to completely stop exploring each other just because you end up in a different couple tonight. it’s really all about just being transparent with everyone.”

“she’s right,” mari chimes in, zipping her own dress. “as long as you tell the truth, nobody can be mad at you.”

selah takes a deep breath, nodding. “you’re right. okay. whatever happens, happens.”

a few minutes later, production came telling you they were ready for you. you take a long look in the full-length mirror, smoothing down your dress before leaving with the rest of the girls.

you all gathered around the high table in the center of the villa, sipping on glasses of wine while djed’s large hand rested comfortably on the small of your back. just as the low chatter began to settle, ariana madix waltzed down the deck looking stunning as ever.

“hello islanders, can you join me at the fire pit, please?”

everyone quickly finished their drinks and made their way down. once you settled into your current couples around the circular bench, ariana turned her attention straight to the bombshells.

“djed, imani... how has your time been in the villa so far?”

djed spoke first, his voice calm and steady. “it’s been amazing. i’ve loved getting to know everyone,” he said, catching your eye and throwing a quick, smooth wink at you from across the pit.

“imani?” ariana asked.

“it’s been a little rough, trying not to step on anyone’s toes... but it’s kind of hard when you’re a bombshell,” imani admitted with a small smile.

“right. well, as you know, there’s a recoupling tonight,” ariana began, her classic cliffhanger voice kicking in. “but what you don’t know... is that we’re giving over the power to america.”

“shit,” you heard selah whisper from beside you.

“america has been voting on who they think bombshells, djed and imani, should couple up with.”

a heavy, nervous pit immediately formed in your stomach. your heart started hammering against your ribs, but when you looked up, djed’s eyes hadn't left yours for a second. he gave you one more reassuring wink before stepping up to stand beside ariana in front of the flames.

“imani, you’re first,” ariana announced. “the boy america wants you to couple up with is... sam.”

“what?!” nikki screamed, her hands flying to her head. “you can’t be serious!”

“congratulations, imani and sam, you are now a couple. imani, please take a seat next to sam.”

you couldn't help but stare at nikki’s face—her cheeks were flushed red, eyes wide, and she was clearly on the absolute verge of tears.

“nikki, you are now single and vulnerable, please come join me,” ariana said gently.

ariana then turned back to the newly formed pair. “imani, how are you feeling?”

“i’m good,” imani said, smiling sheepishly. “it sucks to break someone up, but i really do enjoy me and sam’s conversations, so i’m excited to see where this could go.”

“sam?”

“i feel the same way,” he said, nodding softly. before he could even continue, nikki burst into tears.

“i’m sorry, i can’t—i literally can't do this,” nikki blurted out, her voice cracking before she ripped off her mic wire and stormed off up the stairs toward the main house.

“no way,” you whispered to alex, leaning in. the entire fire pit was dead silent, islanders looking at each other in utter disbelief.

after twenty exhausting minutes of producers talking nikki down, she finally returned, taking her place beside ariana with her arms tightly crossed.

ariana spoke to her gently. “nikki, how are you feeling? you wanna tell us what happened?”

“i just think it’s so crazy how he says one thing and does an entirely different thing,” nikki snapped, rolling her eyes toward sam.

“what do you mean by that?” ariana pressed.

“the things he said to me and his actions just don’t align. i mean, clearly america sees it as well!”

sam just let out a long, tired sigh, dropping his head into his hands, completely done fighting. “whatever, man.”

ariana shifted the focus back to the fire pit. “djed, you’re next. the girl america wants you to couple up with is...”

she paused, and the moment she said your name, a massive wave of relief washed over you. claps and cheering erupted around the group.

djed didn't waste a single second. he walked straight over to where you were sitting, pulled you up into a tight, warm embrace, and wrapped his long arms around you before placing a soft, lingering kiss right on your forehead.

“how are you feeling?” ariana asked, turning her smile toward you.

“i feel great,” you said, beaming as djed’s arm stayed firmly wrapped around your waist. “these last few days, getting to know each other has been so amazing. i was really hoping we’d couple up.”

“djed? are you happy as well?”

“aw man, i’m ecstatic,” he grinned, his accent dripping with pure satisfaction. “these last few days have been so great. she’s such a beautiful person inside and out. i’m very, very grateful.”

ariana turned her attention back to the middle. “alex, you are now single and vulnerable. please come join me.”

alex stood up with a respectful smile, walking over to the host.

“how are you feeling, alex?”

“i’m happy for them, actually,” alex said honestly, glancing over at you two. “we had a really nice chat earlier and i’m just happy she’s found someone that she really likes.”

“alex and nikki,” ariana said, her tone shifting. “you are both single and vulnerable. but... you can either choose to couple up with each other right now to stay on the island, or be dumped immediately.”

loud gasps echoed through the garden, everyone’s jaws dropping simultaneously. nikki’s head snapped toward alex, and alex’s eyes went completely wide.

alex and nikki exchanged a brief, heavy look. alex rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a dry laugh, while nikki swallowed her pride and gave a slow, reluctant nod.

“i mean... we’re here to find love, and we can’t do that if we’re packing our bags tonight,” alex said, looking over at ariana. “so yeah, we’re going to couple up.”

“yeah, we’re gonna give it a shot,” nikki added, letting out a small, breathless sigh as she walked over to him.

“well, there you have it,” ariana beamed, looking out at the entire group. “alex and nikki, you are saved. congratulations to all of our new couples. enjoy your night, islanders and i’ll see you very soon.”

the second ariana walked back up the deck doors, the whole fire pit erupted. the tension finally burst.

djed immediately scooped you up into his arms, lifting your feet slightly off the deck as he pulled you into a tight, warm hug. “told you you didn’t have to worry,” he murmured into your ear, his chest rumbling against yours. “americas got taste.”

“shut up,” you giggled, pulling back to look at him as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

over by the daybeds, alex and nikki were already sitting down, looking like the most awkward duo ever, while sam and imani were settling into their new dynamic with big smiles.

you took a sip from your water, leaning back into djed’s chest as he pulled you flush against him on the swing. the villa was a whole mess, but as his hand gently rubbed your hip and he leaned down to kiss your shoulder, you couldn't care less. you finally had your man, your bed, and a full night ahead with zero blindfolds in the way.

that night when you crawled into bed, you couldn’t help the excitement buzzing under your skin. you walked into the bedroom to find djed already under the sheets, waiting on you with his hands tucked behind his head.

you couldn't stop the big smile from spreading across your face as you climbed onto the mattress and crawled right up next to him.

“what?” he asked, a knowing, lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“nothing... i’m just happy,” you admitted softly.

djed’s eyes softened as he reached out, cupping your jaw gently to pull you in, placing a sweet, tender kiss on your lips. “me too, baby.”

a few minutes later, the main bedroom lights finally clicked off, plunging the room into darkness as everyone around you settled into their blankets.

you ended up laying with your side facing the wall, your back pressed completely flat against his front. djed wrapped his heavy arm tight over your waist, leaving absolutely zero space between the two of you.

the room was pitch black and silent except for the soft rustle of sheets and the other islanders breathing around you. you closed your eyes, genuinely trying to go to sleep, but djed had other plans.

he buried his face into the crook of your shoulder, slowly placing soft, trailing kisses up and down the sensitive skin of your neck. he took his time, tracing the curve from your jawline down to your collarbone, opening his mouth just enough for the heat of his breath to make your skin flush hot.

every time he pulled back, he used his tongue to leave a lingering trail, making a shudder run straight down your spine. you squeezed your eyes shut, teeth digging into your bottom lip to keep from letting out a loud moan that would wake up the whole room.

finally sick of the agonizing teasing, you turned yourself around in his arms, gripping the back of his shirt, and captured his mouth with yours.

the moment your lips met, all the restraint from the rest of the day completely vanished. djed let out a low, guttural groan against your mouth, instantly taking control of the kiss. his hand shot up to cup the back of your head, while his other arm clamped around your waist, dragging your body flush against his chest.

his mouth worked over yours with such urgency, his tongue sliding against yours. every time you tried to catch your breath, he’d shift the angle, deepening the kiss until your head was spinning and your hands were trailing up and down his back. it was the kind of kiss that made your stomach drop into a freefall.

when he finally dragged his mouth away, he stayed hovering just millimeters away, his thumb gently stroking your bottom lip while both of you lay there panting, chest against chest, completely out of air.

djed let out a raspy, satisfied laugh against your mouth, placing one last soft peck on your lips before pulling you tight against his chest.

“goodnight, love,” he whispered.

that’s when you realized that you were gone, and so was he.

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jobe had dragged her inside after school with grass stains on both of their knees and a football tucked under one arm.

“mum!” jobe shouted. “we’re starving.”

his mother looked up from the stove before smiling. “and who have you kidnapped today?”

y/n answered before jobe could. broad smile on her face. “i came willingly.”

jude, thirteen then, barely spared her a glance as he walked through the kitchen toward the fridge.

she, however, watched him like he’d personally invented gravity. and that’s when it started.

it became something everyone noticed eventually. not in the exaggerated way children teased each other, but it was just there. you could notice it without much effort.

whenever jobe invited her over, she’d end up lingering wherever jude happened to be. if jude was practicing free kicks in the garden, she’d find an excuse to sit on the patio with homework she never actually touched. if jude was watching football in the living room, she’d suddenly be interested in whichever teams were playing. if he walked into the kitchen, she’d somehow already be there asking jobe if he wanted a snack.

she wasn’t subtle. never had been. never really tried to be either.

she would ask jude questions no one else did.

“did training go well?”

“what boots are those?”

“did your ankle ever stop hurting?”

she remembered things. too many things. things that the best friend of your younger brother shouldn’t really remember.

one afternoon she looked up from helping jobe with homework and casually said; “you have trials tomorrow, right?”

jude blinked. “yeah.”

“i’ll be rooting for you.”

it was simple and quick. she said it without even expecting a reply. as if just stating something that he shouldn’t need to overthink.

she smiled before looking back down at the maths sheet as though she’d simply commented on the weather.

he remembered thinking that she was weird. not in a mean way, just weird. odd.

because why did she know that?

years passed. jobe and y/n stayed inseparable. jude became a professional footballer. they were basically the same, only older.

the visits never stopped. if anything, they became more frequent.

whenever jude came home during breaks, y/n always happened to be there. helping his mum bake, watching a movie with jobe, sitting outside with headphones around her neck laughing so hard she nearly fell off the garden chair.

it didn’t necessarily mean she was there for him. she really wasn’t. she was there because it was her home now too. that’s how she felt about it.

she’d wave when he walked in anyways. always.

a soft greeting with that sweet smile that seemed to never fade. “hi, jude,” like she’d been waiting for him.

he’d nod, small smile that didn’t always reach his eyes, respond nonchalantly. “alright,” and keep walking.

she never seemed offended. never pushed. never expected conversations longer than a few minutes. but she existed around him close enough to notice, and far enough not to get in the way.

his teammates figured it out before he ever did.

one summer, several of them were staying over while training nearby. jobe had invited y/n around because they were planning to watch a match together.

she walked into the garden carrying chips and lemonade and greet everyone with that same enthusiasm she always carried herself with.

“hi!”

and then she’d look at jude.

“hi,” with a completely different voice. smaller and softer. almost shy.

she had never been particularly shy. kept to herself maybe a little, never nervous in normal settings though.

so it wasn’t a surprise when one of his teammates noticed instantly.

after she disappeared back inside, someone elbowed him. “dude.”

“what?”

“that girl.”

“what about her?”

“she’s in love with you.”

jude nearly choked on his drink, laughing uncontrollably. “no, she isn’t.”

“oh, come off it. you didn’t see the way she looked at you?”

another teammate laughed. “i’ve seen insurance sellers less committed than her.”

jude rolled his eyes, a bit more serious now. “she’s jobe’s friend.”

“exactly.”

“so?”

“so she’s been staring at you for ten minutes.”

“i wasn’t even talking.”

“that definitely didn’t stop her, mate.”

the conversation dissolved into laughter. jude tried laughing too, but it was a different mindset now.

he couldn’t stop noticing.

the way she’d unconsciously turn toward him whenever he spoke. how she’d laugh louder when he made jokes. how she’d immediately ask if he wanted another drink before anyone else. how she always chose the chair closest to him without seeming to realise she’d done it. how she remembered tiny details he’d forgotten he’d ever mentioned.

it was a lot. it wasn’t normal.

then came the teasing.

“oh look.”

“there she is.”

“your little shadow.”

“jude’s biggest fan.”

he denied it every single time. rolling his eyes and drifting the topic to anything else.

“she’s just friends with my brother.”

“mhm.”

“nothing else.”

yet the jokes kept coming. and eventually, they started irritating him.

not because of y/n. she hadn’t done anything wrong. but everyone kept making it into something.

every time she walked over; “there she comes.”

every time she smiled; “oh, she’s looking.”

every time she asked him something; “damn, she’s obsessed.”

he started becoming hyperaware of it. of her, of where she stood, of whether people were watching, whether they were going to make another joke.

instead of simply seeing y/n, he started seeing everyone else’s reactions to y/n.

and resentment quietly settled somewhere it never should have.

it happened during another barbecue.

the house was loud as it usually was. children running through sprinklers and music floating from the speakers with adults talking over one another.

y/n and jobe had gone inside to find ice cream while jude leaned against the fence with three friends.

one of them nodded toward the patio doors. “so, when are you going to tell your girlfriend?”

jude groaned. “for god’s sake.”

“what?”

“she’s not my girlfriend.”

“you sure?”

another snorted. “mate, she follows you everywhere.”

jude rubbed a hand over his face, irritation overflowing. “i know.”

“so?”

he laughed, but there wasn’t any humor behind it. nothing was funny, he just needed the conversation to end.

“it’s honestly…” he searched for a word. one that wasn’t mean but one that could explain the situation. “…annoying.”

possibly the worst choice of wording ever.

his friends were no longer laughing. smiles had dimmed a bit as well. he was being serious.

“i can’t go anywhere in this house without her appearing.”

one of his friends chuckled. “that’s harsh.”

“i’m serious. i walk into a room and she’s there. i go outside and she’s outside. it’s like having a second little sibling.”

another laugh, but jude only shook his head. “i just want one visit where she’s not attached to my side.”

one of them muttered. “damn,” not even being funny. but there was genuinely nothing else that they could’ve said. jude wasn’t being nice.

he shrugged. “i don’t mean to sound horrible, but it gets old,” he looked down at the grass. “i don’t even know why she likes me. i’ve never done anything.”

none of them noticed the kitchen door had opened. or that y/n had frozen halfway through stepping outside. a tub of vanilla ice cream in one hand, spoons in the other.

her smile disappeared so quietly no one saw it happen. not even jude, seemingly too busy speaking his mind.

she stood there for perhaps two minutes. long enough to hear every word and long enough to understand exactly what he meant.

then she turned around and walked back inside without making a sound.

jobe found her standing in the laundry room. she was staring at the washing machine doing absolutely nothing.

“you alright?”

she blinked, being pulled out of her thoughts. “oh. yeah.”

“you found the ice cream?”

“mhm.”

“then why’re you in here?”

she looked toward the hallway.

for a second, jobe thought she’d cry. her eyes did that little thing where they watered, but this time it wasn’t out of happiness like it usually was.

instead, she smiled. “i’m suddenly not very hungry.”

“you sick?”

“no,” she handed him the tub. “you take it.”

“what about you?”

“i think my mum wanted me home anyway.”

jobe frowned. “no she didn’t.”

y/n sighed. “i know,” her smile trembled. “but i’ll pretend she did.”

before he could ask another question, she was gone.

the first few days, jude didn’t notice. not really.

life had a way of swallowing small absences before anyone realized they were gone, and he was fairly busy. like any other footballer was.

training started before sunrise, recovery sessions blurred into media obligations, flights, matches, interviews. by the time he came home, he barely registered that the house was quieter or that there was an absence that was impossible to miss.

it wasn’t until the following saturday. he walked into the kitchen, already expecting to hear two voices arguing over something ridiculous. it was mostly the same thing: jobe insisting pineapple belonged on pizza, y/n insisting it absolutely didn’t. or y/n stealing chips from the cupboard only for jobe to yell; “mum! she took the last packet again!”

but instead there was only silence. just his mother humming while she stirred a pot on the stove.

jude opened the fridge. “where’s jobe?”

“training.”

“and…” he hesitated. “…y/n?”

denise looked up. “oh. she’s not coming over much lately.”

he nodded absentmindedly. “right.”

he grabbed a bottle of water and left. it didn’t really bother him. it didn’t feel strange.

not yet.

then another week passed. then another and another.

and he noticed she’d vanished.

there was no extra backpack by the front door, no shoes kicked off in the hallway, no voice calling “hello?” before she’d even stepped inside, letting herself in like it was her house. no asking his mother if she needed help cooking, and no laughter spilling upstairs because she and jobe had found another stupid video to laugh at.

nothing.

“is y/n busy?” the question slipped out before jude realized he’d spoken.

jobe didn’t even look up from his phone. “dunno.”

“you haven’t seen her?”

he nodded. “i have.”

“so why isn’t she here?”

jobe shrugged. “she doesn’t come over anymore.”

“why?”

another shrug. “says she’s busy.”

that should’ve been enough. people got busy. they grew up and had lives to live. only issue was that y/n had never been too busy. not for jobe, not for his family, and not for him.

his eyes drifted unconsciously toward the empty chair in the garden.

the one she always chose. every single time.

and wondered why he didn’t like that she wasn’t there.

a month. one whole month and he hadn’t even seen her once. not even by accident.

until family dinner. his mother had invited y/n’s parents over, something she’d done for years.

jude almost smiled to himself while walking downstairs. absentmindedly and without questioning why. he just expected things to feel normal again.

expected y/n to already be sitting beside jobe and expected her to grin awkwardly when he walked in.

jobe looked up. “oh, jude’s here.”

she turned and barely glanced at him. “hi.”

just one word. polite, no smile, no dirty look either. but it felt dull.

then she turned straight back to jobe. “did you finish that game?”

“yeah, but you would’ve hated the ending.”

“no spoilers.”

“i wasn’t gonna—”

she laughed. it didn’t look staged or fake. but how dare she? like jude wasn’t standing three feet away.

for the rest of dinner she never addressed him once. if she needed salt she asked jobe, if she wanted another drink she asked his mother, if someone asked the whole table a question she answered everyone except him.

she wasn’t being rude. y/n was never rude. that almost made it worse.

but she was being indifferent. like he’d become another chair in the room.

and he didn’t like that.

his mother noticed first. after dinner she quietly nudged him while washing dishes. “you two alright?”

he frowned. “who?”

“you and y/n.”

“what?”

“she hardly spoke to you.”

“oh,” he shrugged, looking back at the dishes. “didn’t notice.”

his mother gave him a look that clearly said she knew he was lying. but she didn’t push.

the dinners kept happening every few weeks. every single one looked exactly the same.

y/n arrived, hugged his mother, teased his dad, spent an hour laughing with jobe, helped clear plates, thanked everyone, and went home.

jude existed somewhere in the background.

she never sought him out anymore. never accidentally wandered into the same room or asked about training. never remembered his matches.

never looked at him. not really.

and that hurt him more than he’d ever imagined it could.

it became embarrassing how often he caught himself searching for her.

walking downstairs expecting to hear her. coming home wondering if her shoes were by the door.

listening for her laugh before remembering she didn’t come anymore.

then little things started surfacing. tiny things he’d never appreciated.

his mother sighed one afternoon while baking. “i miss her.”

jude looked up. “y/n?”

“mhm.”

“why?”

his mother smiled softly. “she always helped without asking,” denise looked at him. “made tea, set the table.”

“kept me company.”

the house suddenly felt empty. and it was weird because there was definitely people there.

jobe noticed too. though he’d never admit it directly.

one evening jude found him sitting alone in the garden. football balanced between his feet.

“no y/n?”

jobe kicked the ball lazily. “no.”

“you two argue?”

“nope.”

“so?”

“i don’t know,” jobe frowned. “she just stopped coming around, i guess.”

one afternoon jude was cleaning out an old cupboard looking for a charger.

instead he found a tiny notebook. blue cover with dog eared corners.

he flipped it open absentmindedly. he didn’t know who it belonged to, but he laughed at the thought of it being jobe’s.

then he froze.

every page was covered in football fixtures. england matches, champions league nights, training schedules.

written in tiny handwriting with stickers and words highlighted in so many colors.

he recognized it instantly. this was something that belonged to y/n.

there were notes beside certain dates. those were surrounded by extra stickers.

“wish jude luck.”

“ask how recovery went.”

“don’t forget his birthday.”

a folded receipt slipped from between the pages.

he unfolded it and found a photograph. years old with folded corners and faded color.

jobe was making a stupid face, y/n laughing so hard her eyes were closed, and jude. standing beside them looking mildly annoyed because someone had insisted he join.

he couldn’t even remember the picture being taken, but y/n had kept it. all these years.

his chest tightened and his hands trembled slightly.

he carefully slid everything back exactly as he’d found it and didn’t mention it.

that night, he couldn’t sleep.

his friends’ voices echoed through his head.

“she’s obsessed.”

“she’s always around.”

“your shadow.”

then his own.

“it’s honestly annoying.”

he squeezed his eyes shut. he hadn’t just rejected a confession or simply said he wasn’t interested.

he’d mocked y/n’s presence. someone who’d spent years making his family feel warmer. someone who’d celebrated every goal he ever scored. someone who’d never once asked him for anything.

and she’d heard him. he was sure of it.

she’d heard every word.

the realization settled slowly and painfully. it wasn’t just that y/n had stopped following him around or that she’d grown out of him. she’d stopped feeling safe around him.

and he was realizing just now.

a few days later, jobe wandered into jude’s room without knocking.

“you did something.”

jude looked up from his phone, frowning. “what?”

“to y/n.”

his stomach dropped as he put his phone away. “why do you think that?”

“because she won’t come over.”

“so?”

“so she loved this house,” jobe’s voice was unusually serious. “she practically lived here. i ask her every week and she always says no.”

jude swallowed.

“what reason? ‘busy.’ and she’s obviously lying,” jobe looked directly at him. “i’ve known her since we were ten. i know when she’s lying. you did something.”

jude stared at the floor. “i don’t know.”

“liar.”

the words lingered long after jobe left.

jude admitted it to himself. he knew exactly what he’d done.

he just hadn’t realized how much damage one conversation could do. because it wasn’t only her discomfort towards him, but he’d taken his mothers and his brother’s person and pushed them as far from them as he could without meaning to.

it got worse when he started noticing her everywhere.

a café she’d recommended. a song she’d once played in the car. a mug she’d accidentally left behind that his mother refused to throw away.

he’d hear someone laugh in public, turn his head, and feel disappointed when it wasn’t her.

he’d score during a match and look toward the family section without thinking. as if expecting to find one familiar face beaming brighter than the rest.

she wasn’t there. of course she wasn’t.

and every time something inside him sank a little further. so deep it became impossible to deny.

he hadn’t been annoyed by y/n, he’d been annoyed that everyone else noticed her feelings before he did. embarrassed by the teasing. too immature to separate her quiet affection from his friends’ jokes.

so he’d taken his frustration out on the easiest target. the person who deserved it least. the one with the sweetest smile.

and now the silence she’d left behind echoed louder than she’d ever spoken.

by the end of the second month, jude realized something that made him sit awake until nearly dawn.

the house hadn’t become quieter because y/n talked a lot; it had become quieter because she’d filled every room without trying. he just hadn’t understood it until she stopped.

and perhaps the cruelest part of all was that the only reason he finally understood how much she mattered was because he was living in the emptiness she’d left behind.

by the third month, guilt had stopped feeling sharp, but it was heavier. the kind that followed jude everywhere.

it waited beside him in the gym, sat beside him on team buses, appeared in hotel rooms when the television was on but he wasn’t watching.

it even found him during matches. after goals. after victories. during celebrations where everyone else was smiling.

he’d catch himself looking toward the stands.

it was ridiculous. she’d hardly ever come to his matches. she preferred watching from home because she claimed, very seriously, that she got less nervous through a screen.

still he looked. every time. and every time he was met by the same disappointment.

and he had no one other than himself to blame.

“you’ve been weird,” trent dropped onto the bench beside him after training.

jude didn’t bother looking up. “i’ve always been weird.”

“no. you’ve been…” he searched for the word. “…quiet.”

“i’m tired.”

“no, you’re something else.”

jude laughed once, but it lacked its usual warmth. “you sound like my therapist.”

“i’m serious,” trent nudged his shoulder. “did something happen?”

jude almost answered. almost said it aloud.

i broke someone’s heart without even realizing she’d handed it to me.

but he chose to shrug his shoulders. “nah.”

one rainy tuesday, he came home unexpectedly because training had been cancelled.

the house was empty except for his mother, who was sitting at the dining table with a cardboard box.

he walked to where she was and saw what the box had inside. old photographs, birthday cards, school drawings.

jude sat beside her. “what’re you doing?”

“sorting,” she smiled. “i’ve been meaning to for years.”

he reached into the box absentmindedly and pulled out a picture of jobe missing two front teeth. y/n beside him with scraped knees.

himself in the background looking deeply offended because someone had forced him into the frame like always.

his mother laughed. “you remember that?”

“no.”

“you complained for ten minutes. ‘why do i have to be in every picture?’,” she imitated his younger voice perfectly.

jude smiled despite himself.

then another picture. y/n sitting on the kitchen counter, decorating cupcakes. flour all over her nose and denise beside her laughing.

another.

christmas. y/n wearing the paper crown from a cracker while his dad pointed the camera at everyone.

another.

jobe’s birthday. y/n holding the cake looking grumpy because she insisted she’d drop it if she didn’t concentrate.

another.

summer barbecue. y/n asleep on the garden swing with a book resting on her chest.

his mother noticed where his eyes lingered. “she really grew up here.”

jude swallowed. “yeah.”

denise looked back into the box. “i miss having her around.”

he stared at the photograph. “so do i.”

the words came quietly because he hadn’t meant to say them aloud.

his mother looked at him and asked gently. “did something happen?”

the house was quiet for a minute. long enough for rain to become the loudest thing in the room.

“i think…” his voice cracked unexpectedly. “…i think i hurt her.”

his mother didn’t interrupt. she waited the way mothers somehow always knew when silence was more important than questions.

jude rubbed both hands over his face. “my friends kept… making jokes.”

“what jokes?”

he laughed bitterly. “that she followed me everywhere. that she had a crush on me.”

his mother raised one eyebrow. “she did.”

“i know. i know that now,” he shook his head before correcting himself. “i knew then. i just…” he sighed. “i got embarrassed. and one day they brought it up again,” his stomach twisted. “i called her annoying.”

his mother went completely still.

“i said i couldn’t go anywhere without her and that she was attached to my side. that i wanted one visit where she wasn’t around.”

his voice became quieter with every sentence. “i didn’t know she was behind me.”

the rain outside filled the silence as his mother looked down at the photographs scattered across the table.

“oh, jude.”

heartbroken. for both of them. because she knew who her son was, but she also knew who y/n was. sweet and patient y/n.

“she heard all of it?”

he nodded. “every word.”

his mother closed the photo album. “i wondered.”

“you wondered?”

“i couldn’t understand why she suddenly looked uncomfortable here,” she looked toward the window. “i thought maybe she’d simply outgrown us.”

jude felt sick. “no.”

his mother reached over and squeezed his hand. “you owe that girl an apology.”

“i know.”

“no,” she looked him directly in the eye. “you owe her one without expecting forgiveness.”

that’s what was jude was the most scared about. that maybe she wouldn’t forgive him because she really didn’t have to.

he wanted her to anyway.

he spent the next week trying.

twice he drove toward her house. twice he turned around.

every version of the conversation sounded selfish.

i’m sorry because i miss you.

i’m sorry because i realized i like you.

the apology couldn’t be about him. it had to be about what he’d done.

fate, however, had different plans.

it happened at jobe’s match, a local charity event. jude had agreed to come support his brother and he had arrived late.

he stopped abruptly when he saw y/n.

she was standing beside the refreshments table helping hand out drinks to children while laughing at something a little girl had said.

she looked exactly the same and completely different.

she hadn’t noticed him yet. she was smiling with that same charisma she had always had. the one he loved so much but realized too late.

his feet moved before he’d fully decided to.

“y/n.”

she turned and smile slipped gradually. like she’d folded it away.

“oh, hi.”

there it was again. that polite voice. the one she’d started using after that afternoon. the one that wasn’t rude but lacked sweetness.

he hated it.

“can we talk?”

she hesitated and looked toward the children waiting for juice. “i’m helping.”

“i’ll wait.”

she blinked as if she’d expected him to give up. but twenty minutes later she walked over to him.

“what did you need?”

jude suddenly forgot every sentence he’d rehearsed.

“i’m sorry.”

she looked at him. though there was no trace of surprise on her face, she did look as if that was the last thing she’d expected him to say.

“i’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for weeks—months. and every version sounded wrong,” he took a shaky breath.

“you heard what i said, and there isn’t a version of it that isn’t awful.”

y/n stared at the grass between them, unable to look at him just yet.

“i was embarrassed. i let people teasing me become more important than…” he looked at her. “…than your feelings. i spoke about you like you were something i had to put up with when really…” his laugh broke halfway through. “you were just… being kind to me.”

y/n stayed quiet.

“i made you feel unwelcome in a place that felt like home. i took something safe away from you.”

he closed his eyes for a second as he felt his chest tighten. “i’m so, so sorry.”

y/n finally looked up and her eyes were glassy.

“i kept wondering what i’d done.”

his heart stopped. she sounded small. so small. and it was him who had done that.

“i thought maybe i’d been too loud,” she laughed softly through her tears. “or talked too much,” she paused to regain her breath. “so i tried talking less. i thought maybe i bothered your parents. so i started leaving earlier,” her voice trembled. “and then i heard you.”

“i realized…” she shrugged. “…it was just me.”

jude closed his eyes. every word landed like another weight on his chest.

“it was never just you. it was me. i was immature and i was cruel and i hurt someone who had never done anything except care about me.”

she wiped quickly beneath one eye. “i stopped coming because i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable anymore.”

“i know,” his voice sounded barely above a whisper. “and i hate that that’s what you walked away believing.”

she studied him for a long moment. “so what changed?”

the question was fair. of course it was.

“what made you apologize now?”

he smiled sadly. “you disappeared.”

she frowned slightly.

“i don’t mean physically, i mean you disappeared from…” he gestured helplessly. “…everything. the house, my family… my life.”

“my mum misses you, jobe misses you.” he swallowed. “and…” he laughed once. “so do i.”

she didn’t answer. she had no idea what to say. she was hearing things she’d convinced herself would never hear because it wasn’t jude who she had blamed.

“i never found you annoying. i found it embarrassing that everyone noticed you because they noticed before i did.”

y/n frowned. “noticed what?”

he held her gaze. “i stopped looking for reasons you’d always be around and started hoping you would be. so when you left…” he smiled through wet eyes. “it felt like someone had taken all the light out of my childhood home.”

y/n stared at him. searching his face and making sure this wasn’t guilt speaking. making sure this wasn’t pity and he just didn’t want to make her feel more pathetic than she already was.

“you really hurt me.”

“i know.”

“i cried all the way home that day.”

his eyes closed.

“i thought i’d embarrassed myself.”

“you didn’t.”

“i thought…” her voice cracked. “…if the boy i’d liked for years couldn’t stand being around me then maybe i was just…”

she couldn’t finish what she had tried to say. it was too much and there were too many mosquitoes and she didn’t like crying in public.

jude stepped forward instinctively but then stopped himself.

“i’m not going to ask you to forgive me, okay? you don’t owe me that. i’m not even going to ask if you still feel the same. because after what i did, i haven’t earned the right to know.”

y/n looked at him for what felt like forever.

and then very quietly said. “i don’t think those feelings ever went away. i just buried them.”

she smiled softly. but jude felt satisfied when noticed this time it was real.

“for what it’s worth, you were never actually annoying either.”

he laughed. his shoulders finally dropping for what felt like the first time in months. “i can work with that.”

she shook her head, smiling despite herself.

“i didn’t say you were forgiven,” she hesitated. “but i think i’d like to come by your house again.”

jude’s smile softened. “i think mum might actually cry.”

y/n laughed. “i missed her.”

“i know.”

“and…” she glanced at him. shrugging her shoulders. “…i missed you too.”

he stared at her, almost afraid to believe he’d heard correctly.

“so…” he asked carefully. “can i walk you back to the pitch?”

she pretended to think about it. “hm. i suppose. but only because jobe’s probably wondering where i’ve gone.”

he smiled. “and because you don’t want him thinking i’m annoying?”

she groaned, laughing as she lightly nudged his arm. “oh, don’t ruin the moment.”

he caught himself smiling wider than he had in months.

three months later, the bellingham house sounded like itself again.

it happened so gradually that no one could pinpoint exactly when y/n had started letting herself stay until midnight again. or when she stopped asking, “is it alright if i come over?” and simply walked through the front door with the familiar “hello?” like she’d done since she was ten.

denise had cried one evening while y/n was helping wash dishes.

she wrapped her arms around her and whispered. “i’ve missed having you here.”

y/n had hugged her back just as tightly. “i’ve missed being here.”

neither of them mentioned why she’d ever stopped coming. some wounds didn’t need reopening once they’d finally begun to heal.

jobe, however…

jobe noticed everything.

he noticed that jude somehow always knew when y/n was arriving, that y/n unconsciously saved the seat beside her, that whenever jude came home from training, the first person he looked for wasn’t his parents anymore.

it was her.

one evening they were all watching a film, or at least attempting to.

jobe was invested. his father had fallen asleep twenty minutes earlier and his mother was pretending not to.

y/n sat tucked into one corner of the sofa, jude on the other.

that was how it started.

then halfway through the film, jobe reached for the popcorn and paused.

“hang on,” his eyes narrowed. “when did this happen?”

y/n blinked with a small frown. “what the hell are you talking about?”

“you two.”

both of them looked down simultaneously.

without either of them consciously remembering it, they’d ended up shoulder to shoulder. y/n’s legs tucked beneath her and jude’s arm resting lazily behind her on the sofa. their hands intertwined.

y/n immediately let go, but jude didn’t.

he simply looked at his brother. “what?”

jobe stared shaking his head unbelievably. “no. what? when?”

jude shrugged. “a while ago.”

“a while?”

“three months?”

“three months?!”

his voice cracked and his parents woke up.

denise yawned. “what happened?”

jobe pointed dramatically. “they’ve been dating for three months.”

“yes, jobe, i know.”

jobe whipped around. “you knew?!”

“i’ve known since the second week.”

his father stretched casually. “i thought everyone knew.”

jobe looked personally betrayed. “i didn’t know.”

dating jude turned out to be nothing like she’d imagined when she was younger. at ten she’d thought it’d be grand gestures like flowers, fireworks and movie-like moments.

instead it was ordinary. wonderfully ordinary.

it was jude waiting outside her university lecture with two coffees because he’d remembered she’d had an early class. it was y/n bringing dinner to his apartment after late training because she’d noticed he’d forgotten to eat properly.

it was grocery shopping together and somehow spending forty minutes arguing over pasta sauce. it was falling asleep halfway through documentaries neither of them had actually wanted to watch.

it was peace.

no guessing. no pretending she didn’t instinctively drift toward him or that he didn’t instinctively reach for her.

one rainy afternoon she wandered into the bellingham kitchen where denise was.

eventually she spoke. “you know…”

y/n looked over.

“i used to think you’d marry one of my boys.”

she nearly dropped the knife. “excuse me?”

she laughed. “not because you had a crush. i didn’t even know about that until much later.”

y/n hid her face. “oh my god.”

“i just couldn’t imagine you belonging anywhere else.”

that evening jude found y/n sitting on the back garden swing.

the same one she’d fallen asleep on years earlier.

rain had finally stopped and everything smelled like wet grass.

he walked over quietly. “you disappeared.”

she looked up. “i wanted five minutes.”

“without me?”

she smiled teasingly. “i know. terrible.”

he sat beside her and y/n rested her head against his shoulder.

“you know…”

“what?”

“i still catch myself wondering if i’m bothering you.”

his entire body softened. “you really believe that?”

“sometimes,” she paused. “it doesn’t last long but…” she shrugged. “that day stuck with me.”

jude nodded once. “i know, baby.” he reached for her hand. “i don’t expect it to disappear.”

“it shouldn’t,” she looked at him. “you hurt me.”

“i did.”

“and some days i remember it.”

he brushed his thumb across her knuckles. “when you do, you tell me. i don’t care if it’s ten years from now.” he kissed the back of her hand. “if i have to apologize for that day for the rest of my life i’ll do it.”

she laughed through watery eyes. “you’d get sick of saying sorry.”

“i don’t think so.” he leaned closer.

a breeze stirred the trees around them.

somewhere inside the house jobe shouted,

“mum, where’s the garlic bread?”

his mother shouted back, “ask y/n.”

y/n laughed instinctively. she looked toward the kitchen windows glowing warm against the evening sky and then she answered just as loudly.

“top oven!”

jobe yelled back. “thank you!”

jude smiled.

“what?” she looked at him.

“it feels like home again.” he kissed her forehead and then he intertwined their fingers. “you’ve always been home.”

this time, when she smiled there was no hesitation behind it. no fear that she’d overstayed her welcome. no instinct to make herself smaller.

because the girl who had once quietly slipped out the back door, convinced her presence was a burden, was gone.

and in her place was someone who knew, with complete certainty, that she was loved. not because she stayed out of the way but because she had always, without realizing it, become part of the family long before she ever became jude’s girlfriend.

the porch light flickered on as the sun disappeared.

inside, someone laughed. jobe yelled something incomprehensible about burnt garlic bread.

his father blamed the oven. his mother blamed jobe.

y/n squeezed jude’s hand. “c’mon. they’re probably setting the kitchen on fire.”

he stood with a grin. “probably.”

she started toward the house and he caught her hand before she could get very far.

y/n turned. “what?”

jude smiled in that quiet, unmistakably fond way that was reserved only for her now. “i’m really glad you came back.”

y/n’s expression softened. “i know.”

she stepped back toward him, rose onto her toes, and kissed him gently. “when you apologized,” she murmured against his lips, “i wasn’t sure if we could ever get back to what we had.”

he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “we didn’t.”

she frowned slightly.

“we got something better.”

she believed him completely.

together, they walked back into the warm, noisy house. where someone was already shouting their names, where dinner was almost certainly burning, and where neither of them would ever again have to wonder whether they belonged.

even though he clearly didn't give anyone the same energy he gave you, you still felt some type of way seeing them in his space. there was just something so good between the two of you that you didn't even want to share a second of his attention.

on the flip side, alex had started exploring options with some of the other women in the villa, which honestly made you feel relieved. he was a genuinely sweet guy, and he deserved to find someone who could reciprocate his feelings especially with the way you were feeling djed.

he still made you breakfast in the morning, bringing over a plate of fruit and your coffee with that gentle smile. and you still slept in the same bed every night. sharing latenight chats, checking in on each other. but the romantic pressure was completely gone. you were friends more than anything.

and every morning when you woke up, your eyes didn't stay on the boy sleeping next to you. they immediately drifted across the room, looking for djed.

you needed to dial it back. and quickly.

as much as you liked djed—and god knew you were falling fast—you couldn’t go closing yourself off to him this early in the game. this was love island and even though y'all had spent the last couple of days practically glued at the hip, talking for hours, and sneaking stolen naps together on the daybeds in the shade (only to be quickly woken up by production lol), you had to keep your head on straight.

you weren't about to limit yourself, and as fine as he was, you couldn't expect him to just lock in on you completely without testing the waters either. you were gonna keep your options wide open. or at least fake it till you made it.

you and mari were sitting on the sunbeds near the ping pong table while djed and dave played a match. your head was resting comfortably in her lap, sunglasses shielding both your faces from the sun while her fingers massaged your scalp.

two feet from you, djed slammed the paddle down, his laughter booming as he took another point off dave. his shirt was off, skin glowing in the light, and even with your sunglasses on, you could feel yourself getting distracted.

“what do you miss most about home?” mari asked softly, leaning back against the cushions. “for me, it’s the music. oh my god, i miss the music so much. i just wanna hear a full song.”

“i miss my books,” you pouted, looking up at the clear sky and sighing. “oh, and cheeseburgers.”

mari burst out laughing, nudging your head. “girl, you are so real for that. a fat, juicy burger with fries sounds heavenly right now.”

“deadass,” you laughed, shifting a little. “just a big greasy burger, a thick romance novel, and zero cameras in my face. i’d sell my soul for that right about now.”

as you were laughing, talking about your routines back home, the men finally abandoned their ping pong game and came over to join the two of you.

you sat up, swinging your legs off the couch, and djed took the spot right beside you. he immediately wrapped his heavy, warm arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his side. you felt the heat radiating off him as he leaned down, his lips practically brushing your ear.

“you always smell so good,” he whispered into your neck sending shivers straight down your spine.

before you could even open your mouth to give him a flirty comeback, mari rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses and groaned loudly.

“oh, get a room,” mari snickered, right as dave sat down on her other side and casually wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest.

“look at you talking,” you laughed, pointing at her and dave while you relaxed back against djed’s chest, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your side.

she shoots her middle finger your way, making you and djed burst into laughter. he pulls you just a little bit tighter against his chest, his laugh deep and vibrating right against your shoulder.

for a second, everything felt so normal, so sweet—just the four of you joking around in the sun.

“i got a text!”

a voice shouted from across the villa, everyone froze. mari immediately dropped her hand from dave's, and djed’s grip on your waist tightened, his eyes darting toward the pool where the phone was ringing out.

you sigh, letting your head drop back onto his shoulder for a quick second. “ugh, we were doing so good. it’s been so peaceful in here.”

“c’mon baby,” djed said, his deep voice smooth as he pulled you up from your seat by both hands, effortlessly tugging you onto your feet.

y'all walked over to the fire pit where everyone was crowding around sam, who was holding the phone up with a huge grin on his face. he cleared his throat and loudly read the screen:

“islanders! pucker up. tonight you will take part in a kissing game presented by maybelline. #kissandmakeup #hotandbothered”

the whole courtyard erupted into loud cheers, shouting, and nervous laughter. before you could even react, djed leaned down, his long fingers reaching out to playfully tickle your side, sending a shiver straight up your spine.

“oh, i like the sound of that,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

you bit your bottom lip, trying—and completely failing—to hide the grin spreading across your face. the truth was, you and djed hadn’t even kissed yet. the tension between you had been building up like crazy for days, but you’d been holding back out of respect for alex while things were still fresh. but with this challenge? all bets were off. you wanted to show out.

the camera cut to your confessional. you leaned back on the bright cushions, crossing your legs with a knowing look. the producer’s voice came from behind the camera asking if you considered yourself a good kisser.

“am i a good kisser?” you repeated, a slow, confident smirk spreading across your face. “well... i’ve never gotten any complaints.”

the producer chuckled before asking what, in your opinion, makes a bad kisser.

“for me?” you sat up, throwing your hands in the air. “it’s too much tongue. oh trying to swallow my entire lips, i had a boyfriend who did that once, i was irritated every single time. and bad breath. oh god, please let nobody have bad breath today, i am begging you!”

you covered your face with both hands, shaking your head, leaving the whole production team behind the camera laughing.

you and the girls headed up to the makeup room to get dressed while the boys got ready downstairs in the bedroom. the energy in the room was crazy. everyone buzzing excitedly at the thought of kissing the boys and finally having some actual fun after a week of pure dryness.

for the challenge, you pulled out a black lacy top and a pair of micro leather shorts that hugged every single curve and made your ass look amazinggg. your skin was glowing, from the oil you’d put on. and you made sure to spray extra of that vanilla perfume you knew djed liked.

you and andreina were right in front of the wall mirror strutting and posing while mari pulled out the villa phone to record it all for the unseen bits.

“yes, body! look at them!” mari yelled behind the camera, zooming in on you.

you caught your own reflection, threw your head back laughing, and bent all the way over to do a little shake for the camera, making the whole room erupt into screams.

“djed is about to lose his mind tonight,” andreina wheezed, holding her stomach.

you laughed, pulling your shorts down just a millimeter before checking yourself out one last time.

the boys went up first.

they stood lined up on heart-shaped platforms, completely blind to what was coming, wearing eye masks and noise-canceling headphones. they couldn’t see a thing, couldn’t hear a thing, and the kisses were 100% anonymous. at the end of every round, each guy had to try to guess which girl had just laid her lips on him and give a score out of ten.

dave was up first, then sam, then jayden, trey, alex, and finally djed at the very end of the line.

standing there blindfolded, the men were looking anxious as hell. arms swinging, hands rubbing together, nervous laughs escaping every few seconds. the girls were sitting on the bench, absolutely losing it, laughing behind their hands.

selah was the first girl up.

the camera cut to her confessional, her sitting up tall with a wicked grin. “i really didn’t come to play. i’m here to leave with a man!”

and she wasn't playing. selah stepped up to the platforms and went down the line, kissing each boy like her life depended on it. deep, lingering, heavy kisses that had the boys completely melting on the spot. arms were wrapping around her waist, heads were tilting—the boys were into it lips chasing hers the second they broke apart.

she’d skipped jayden, wanting to save him for last and when she finally got to him, she didn't rush it. she took her sweet time, sliding her hands up his neck and leaving a little something extra. a soft bite to his lower lip that had his knees looking slightly weak right then and there.

the girls applauded and cheered for selah while the guys shouted out their ratings. three eights, a nine, a six from someone who was just being a fuckin hater, and lastly, a ten from jayden.

mari was next. she held her own, getting an eight from sam, two sixes from jayden and trey, a ten from alex, a seven from djed, and a nine from dave, who was grinning ear to ear.

then came nikki. she was by far the worst kisser of the night.

the boys didn't hold back at all. comments like “too much tongue!” and “who the fuck was that?” you could clearly see on nikki’s face that she felt some type of way about the feedback. her jaw was tight as she walked back over, completely salty.

andreina went after her, followed by imani. and finally... it was your turn. the girls screamed, hyping you up as you adjusted your top, stepped onto the wooden deck, and took a deep breath.

dave was up first. you stepped up and kissed him sweetly, not wanting to do anything crazy—y'all were friends, and you definitely didn't see him romantically, but it was smooth.

then came sam. as soon as you stepped into his space, he opened his mouth way too wide, and you immediately got the absolute worst ick. you drew back quickly, your face wrung with pure disgust, barely letting his lips touch yours before moving right along.

jayden was next. the kiss was nice, comfortable, but nothing life-changing.

then you reached trey. you had to stand up on your tiptoes to bring his face down to yours. you kissed him slow and deep—it was actually a really good kiss. you would’ve rated it an eight yourself, which was hella high for you considering how dry his chat usually was.

next was alex. he didn't hesitate—his hands planted firmly on your waist the second you got close. as you kissed, your hands naturally slid up into his hair, and he kept pulling you closer and closer into his chest, until you finally broke away, catching your breath.

“oh damn,” you whispered to yourself, stepping back.

and finally... djed at the very end of the line.

you took your absolute sweet time with him. you stepped into his space, feeling the pure heat off his chest, and leaned in—kissing his neck first, slowly sliding up to his open chest, then trailing light kisses along his sharp jawline before finally capturing his lips.

the second your mouth met his, you could’ve sworn you heard him let out a low, heavy moan. all control went out the window. the two of you just stood there, hands wandering all over each other's bodies, pulling each other tighter until mari aggressively cleared her throat from the sidelines.

“ahem!”

you snapped back to reality and broke the kiss, stepping away while fanning your face with your hand.

“that was hot. as. fuck.” selah gasped, her eyes wide.

you bit your bottom lip, in full agreement, your whole body still vibrating from the touch.

the camera cut straight to your confessional. you were sitting there with your hair a little messy, clutching a pillow to your chest.

“i literally have no words. i’m speechless,” you admitted, shaking your head with a huge, breathless grin. “look... if this wasn’t love island? i probably would’ve fucked him right then and there. no shade.” you threw your head back and laughed, not even trying to hide it.

the boys went down the line giving their final scores. when it came to djed’s turn to rate your kiss, he didn't even hesitate, shouting out a loud, proud ten.

“that had to be my girl for sure,” he stated, a massive smirk on his face under the blindfold.

you gushed, hiding your blushing face in mari’s shoulder as the rest of the girls snickered. the connection was loud and clear.

now it was the girls' turn.

production handed out the eye masks and noise-canceling headphones, and you all lined up on the heart-shaped platforms. you couldn’t see a thing, couldn’t hear a single sound except the hum of your own breathing, and you had no idea what order you were standing in. you just knew you were the very last girl on the end of the line.

you shifted on your feet, smoothing down your leather shorts and trying to calm the wild flutter in your chest. taking off your sight made every other sense go into overdrive. the warm night air hit your bare skin.

you knew the boys were taking their turns coming down the line, blind to who was who. you could hear faint, muffled laughter from time to time, but for the most part, you were completely locked in your own head, wondering how each of them would handle you.

dave probably kept it respectful. sam was probably still out here opening his mouth like a mouth-breather. alex... you knew alex would be gentle and sweet, trying to prove his point.

but djed?

just thinking about those big, warm hands on your hips had your pulse racing under your skin. you stood there in the dark, biting your lip, waiting for the moment a pair of hands would finally find your waist and pull you in.

the first kiss was sloppy as hell. the second he made contact, you already knew that was sam. the second one was gentle. sweet, respectful. maybe dave. the third one was okay, but you definitely weren’t a fan of getting your tongue aggressively sucked on. if that was his thing, fine... but it wasn't yours.

the fourth kiss was alex. you instantly knew it was him by the soft, familiar way he caressed your back, and by the clean scent of his cologne. it was a damn good kiss, real tender and genuine. almost as good as djed.

he was next.

djed breezed right through the other girls down the line, completely unbothered, just trying to make his way straight to the end. you felt the radiating warmth of his body before he even laid a single finger on you. your breath picked up, the blind anticipation literally killing you in the dark.

without warning, djed took both of his large, warm hands and smacked them firmly on your ass, gripping you tight and pulling your hips directly flush against his.

you swear to god you could’ve moaned out loud right then and there. before you could even catch your breath or say a single thing, his mouth was came down on yours. rough, possessive, and so deep it made your head spin.

he trailed the kiss down to your neck, his lips warm and heavy, sucking softly on the skin right at your sweet spot. your hands immediately flew to the back of his head, your fingers tangling tight in his hair and pulling him closer, encouraging him to keep going.

behind you, the boys were completely taken aback by what was going on, shouting and wildly reacting to the sheer heat radiating off the two of you. djed finally moved back up to your lips, pressing a few soft, lingering pecks against your mouth before he slowly let go of your hips and walked away.

“oh my- fuck,” you blurted out, still completely blindfolded, your voice raspy and breathless. “game over, nobody else kiss me!”

djed’s deep, chesty laugh echoed as he walked away.

the last boy came up and kissed you, but you just lazily kissed him back. you had completely meant what you said. your head was spinning from djed’s kiss and nobody else was about to compete with that.

the second production called a wrap on the game and everyone was allowed to pull off their masks and headphones, djed didn't even waste a single second looking at anyone else. he walked straight through the crowd, his eyes locked onto you, and reached out to take your hand.

“let’s go for a chat,” he said, his voice low and steady despite the grin tugging at his lips.

“yeah,” you breathed out, nodding immediately.

he wrapped his long fingers tightly around yours, guiding you away from everyone else, up the stairs, and right into the speakeasy. the second the doors clicked shut, djed turned around to look at you, his eyes dark, heavy. the tension between the two of you unbearable.

you began talking, but it didn't take long before you shifted the conversation right back to the challenge.

“did you really have to smack my ass like that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

he threw his head back and laughed, that deep south london chuckle filling the small room. “oh please, you liked it.”

“you’re freaked out,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“only for you, baby,” he said smoothly, leaning in just a fraction closer. “did you like my kiss?”

“i don’t think i remember, exactly,” you lied, putting on a sweet, innocent face and acting completely confused.

“is that right?” djed smirked.

“yeah, i don’t know... i think i need a reminder,” you smiled, looking up at him through your lashes.

djed laughed as he hooked his long finger under your chin, tilting your head up toward his.

“did i tell you how good you looked today, baby?” he whispered against your lips.

“only fifty times,” you smiled against him.

he chuckled low in his chest before kissing you again—slow, deep, and completely taking his time. his hands moved smoothly to your waist, effortlessly lifting you up and shifting you right into his lap.

wrapped up in his arms, feeling the heat off his skin and his chest rising against yours, every single thought you had about "dialing it back" went completely out the window.

ᥫ᭡ fai speaks: i had to end it here omg, it was getting way too long! i’m just ready for them to couple up already

”I’ll be right back.” She announces to the group, merely leaving them any opportunity to comment as she walks away. Apparently her feet could not carry her fast enough as she hears, ”Hope you guys kiss this time!”

Keylan, the loudest in the group, makes the most about the situation. On multiple occasions he has expressed his support for their ”silent” romance. ”You’re part of the mini family. Things would be so much easier.” To which she rarely comments except to brush the idea off. 

Maybe in another universe. For now, she will have to accept her reality. A childhood friendship. Nothing more. The package came with unique chemistry but also many inconveniences. Particularly hearing about his girlfriends, flings and dating life in general.

A few years ago, hearing him opening up about the subject did not do much. Years passed by and they both matured. The task became harder to accomplish with a fully developed brain. The first heart clench alerted her and worried her. With time, she learned how to build a solid shield to protect herself. Today, she made peace with the situation. 

She will never be one of those girls he talks to or desires. Imagining anything else and blindly hoping were slow poison that would eventually kill her from the inside. The only remedy was to come to the conclusion that things were better that way. 

The sand kisses her feet as she makes her way on the beach. Her eyes squint, fighting the small grain that wanted to force their way inside of her pupils. Djed sits there, his denim shorts ruined with a visible white stain. His hands behind him as he observes the sunset. 

”Earth is calling you!” She jokes before sitting down by his side, carefully arranging her orange cotton dress. His favourite colour on her. Although she promised to stop. Her subconscious had a harder time accepting reality. Each gesture or choice to earn a compliment or an intense stare is worthy. Not to boost a self-confidence she steadily built over the years, but having additional images for her daydreams would not hurt anyone.

Those attempts would certainly not change his mind, but she enjoys his reactions nonetheless. Three days ago, the man showered her with compliments on her orange swimsuit. 

”The swimsuit is clean!”

”Thanks, Djed. Could have done better with yours.” She mocked, poking her tongue out. The two of them ended up splashing one another, fuelling the speculation going around in their group of friends. Despite being a childhood group of friends, Djed and she stood apart, according to the rest of the group. The jokes no one else could understand, the never-ending conversations when everybody else was asleep, the random touches and knowing stares woke up some suspicions. 

Djed turns around, eyes half closed. ”Missing me already?”

”May I remind you? You texted me, asking me to join.”

”And you did, so you missed me.”

She sighs deeply, ”If it can help you feel better.” She pauses, placing her hands on her knees. ”I joined to admire the sunset. The view is better here.”

He chuckles. Because I’m included in the view.”

”See? This is why you’re single.”

”Ouch. My heart is bleeding.” The fake heart attack annoyingly makes her laugh.

”It’s not the heart, it’s the ego.”

”Last time I checked, ego isn’t an organ.”

She gives him a warning stare before turning her head away. That man sometimes gets on her nerves with his comments. ”Oh, really? Oh my days… Djed taught me something new today.”

”Yeah, put some respect on my name.”

”Not really, but I’ll put some sand in those eyes if you keep acting like a fool.” They both chuckle again, sharing that familiar stare which feels like home. A silence follows, not the stressful type. The kind that brings peace, the non-judgemental, the light one. Both of their eyes are locked on the sky. 

With a heavy heart, she decides to interrupt the silence. ”So how went your date last night?” 

He sighs out loud. ”Nothing worth exploring.”

Last year, she would have interiorly cheered. Imagine that it meant a potential future for them. That bright hope that warmed her heart. Then she moved on to the next girl and the following one until she lost track of his long dating list. Clarity knocks at her door, and now she knows better. Him not liking a girl simply means he's ready for the next one. 

”Okay, what was wrong this time?” Her tone portrays a kind of calmness she had ignored having until recently. 

The opposite of him. Djed barely tries to hide his frustration. ”Don’t get me wrong. She’s bad, yeah… But she’s boring. No banter, no jokes, no real conversation. I don’t like that.”

”I thought you were only dating for fun. Why would you care about such things? Men with locs never beat the allegations.”

”It’s complicated, big head.” He stops mid-sentence, asking, ”Wait…What allegations?”

”You guys are trouble. Toxic and cheats.”

He grimaces before giggling, ”Where it’s even coming from? You need to stop scrolling, big head.”

She playfully pinches his arm, earning a laugh from him. ”I have a name, you know?”

”I prefer big head, sorry.”

The nickname that never left since elementary school. Not a mockery, simply an embarrassing memory, she would rather erase from her mind. Although he tried to distract her, she remained laser-focused. For God only knows how many times, Djed complains about his date. Beautiful brown and black women are gorgeous, yet he always seems to find reasons to cut them off. 

”What is it that you are exactly looking for? I feel like you’re never satisfied. The perfect woman doesn’t exist, you know?”

”She may not be perfect for others, but for me, she is.”

”So there’s someone there you really like? Why are you dating other girls then?”

Her heart beats harder than usual. The moment she prepared for has finally come. Now, she has to hear how much he wants that woman so bad. Or what he could do to get her. That dynamic will never change. Being his childhood friend included a romantic confidant or coach role. One she has been carrying with a heavy heart for years now. 

”She’s a bit unattainable, looks a bit romantically unavailable too. Why would I waste my time for?”

The images of an overconfident woman with a great body, face and hair flood her mind. She must have a good life. Unattainable? She must be travelling all over the world, having many hobbies, and just living her life to the fullest to care about men.

At this point, she does not care about Djed, she envies that woman. Not because of him, but her freedom. No man to worry about. No heart clenches every time her best friend shares a portion of his life with her. 

She shakes her head before getting back to her role. ”Djed, come on! This isn’t the Djed I know. You should try. Imagine spending your days daydreaming about her when you can literally try and see what happens.”

The same rule could apply to her, but she is not willing to risk their friendship. Hypocritical? A bit. Still, necessary to maintain a balanced relationship with one of her closest friends. 

”It’s more complicated than that, big head.”

”Explain to me then.”

His stare switches from the landscape to her eyes. She understands that he is not willing to share that secret yet. Another silence settles in. This one feels heavier for reasons she could not justify. 

”Fine. I respect your privacy. Just understand that you’ll never know if she’s actually unavailable or unattainable if you never talk to her.”

”I dropped hints, but she ignored.”

Her mouth dries up. Maybe the woman had no desire to date him then. To avoid another uncomfortable silence, she asks, ”How about you tell me what you like about her?”

”Wow. The list is long, big head…” The smile on his face, the spark in his eyes silently break her heart but warm her soul. Djed might not be perfect, but he is a good man overall. Not the cliche of a good man. The type who really cares about others, listens to them, checks on them, protects them and encourages them.

The kind of partner anyone would love to have by their side. Generous with his energy and time, but only to those he really cares about. Otherwise, he will stay polite and keep it moving. She firmly believes he deserves love and joy in his romantic life. Even if it means muting her heart in the process. 

”We’re on vacation. We have time. I’m listening.”

He rolls his eyes with a teasing grin. ”You never give up, do you? " To that, she simply shrugs. He knows her. Maybe a bit too much. 

”The list is long…but it’s weird. I don’t really know how to describe her.“

”It’s between us. Whatever you feel like saying, Djed. I won’t judge you unless you say something silly or post those stupid penitentiary memes.”

He chuckles louder than before while shaking his head. ”Can’t a man hype himself up? What’s wrong with that?”

She rolls her eyes at him. ”Hype yourself up without corniness, thanks. Back to the topic, stop distracting me.”

A few seconds pass as he rubs the tip of his nose. "Humm…I think I love her as a person. It’s the personality…I mean, she’s fucking beautiful too, but…that intelligence, crazy side, fun side, carefreeness… We also have many things in common, you know? I learn from her every single day. She brings the best out of me. Zhe’s my personal sunset.”

The last sentence had her heart thumping inside of her chest. That love confession was even more beautiful than a bland I love you. Suddenly, she is back imagining that girl. Somewhere in the world with a solid career and full life, not knowing that Djed caught feelings for her. The irony. She gulps, her eyes looking at the sky. 

”It’s beautiful, Djed… You should definitely give it a try. If it works, amazing, if not, I’m pretty sure you can find a great partner. You’re Djed-Hotep Spence after all.”

”Stop the gaslighting.”

They are back chuckling like teenagers again, their shoulders brushing, waking up that warmth inside of her chest. 

”Okay, on a more serious note. What’s going on here? You’re usually super confident when it comes to girls. Why are you so scared of that one? The Djed I know cannot be scared of talking to a gyal.”

”I’m not scared. I told you it’s complicated… This one is really special, I’m telling you.”

She smiles, secretly hoping that one day someone will talk that highly about her. 

”I’m still waiting for more. How she looks like? Short description. Her career, her hobbies. Tell me more. She seems so cool!” Her tone is genuine. She would actually love to meet her. 

”I’m not making her dating profile. This is real life, big head. Not a movie.”

”Okay, cornball." She pokes her tongue out at him. 

He warns her, his finger pointing at her. ”You’re being rude, big head. Careful.”

”Or what?”

”I’m throwing you into the water.”

”I fucking dare you, Djed. If you do that, we’re no longer friends. You’re not ruining my braids.” He playfully patted her head, which resulted in her slapping his hand away. Their laughter makes a few heads turn around, but they do not pay much attention.

”She’s amazing, but I don’t even think she realises how much.” Djed looks straight in front of him, eyes glued to the horizon. His voice slightly drops. She feels the subtle shift. That woman must be very special for him to behave like he is fourteen again. 

”Reminds me of you and Sarah. Your first love.”

He groans, ”Please, not today. She’s not my first love…I was a stupid teen too.”

”Hum… All I know is that she had you writing long letters.”

”I was young. You’re lucky I don’t remember the guy you were hiding with to kiss in the park.”

She grimaces in disgust. ”Please don’t bring him. We’re having a good time. He was such a bad kisser too. Lord.” His hand slaps his knee as he bursts out of laughter. 

”You’re heartless, big head.”

”No, I’m not. I don’t regret kissing his mate the following year. Great kisser but empty brain. Lord knows I hate a dumb man.”

Djed laughs even louder. ”You’re out of your mind for doing that. That boy was spiralling for weeks.”

”His business, not mine. Shouldn’t have lied and said that my breath stinks when I dumped him.”

”Yeah, he was wilding for that. That’s not even true tho. Otherwise, I would’ve stopped talking to you a long time ago.” She gives him a playful death stare before smacking his arm. Another silence follows. This one feels even heavier than the previous one. She feels some tensions coming from his side.

”So, about that girl? What are we doing next? You can’t fumble her like that.”

He leans closer to her, forcing their shoulders and hands to brush. She hardly moves, enjoying the small contact of his skin on hers. Suddenly his eyes fully lock on hers. 

He whispers, ”I love playing chess with her. Orange is her colour. She rocks it like nobody else.” Her heart almost stops when she realises who that woman actually is. She gasps, checking if those words are not a fruit of her imagination. 

”Djed…”

”Last night made me realise I only feel whatever I’m feeling with you. No one else. I’ve always found anyone else boring or lacking…Yesterday made me realise…It's just… They’re not you, big head. No one else can be you.”

Words stay stuck in her throat. She gulps, plunging her eyes into his, looking for any signs of playfulness. 

”I understand if you don’t feel the same. No bad blood. At least, I won’t have any regrets.”

”Djed…Are…Is…”

”I’m dead serious right now. No jokes.”

She nervously giggles, ”Why are you saying I’m unattainable and unavailable? I don’t get it.”

He leans closer to her. ”Have you seen how you talk about your dates? You don’t seem to care about men… So I thought you'd treat me the same. You weren’t very reactive to my hints either.”

”What hints, Djed? You’re terrible at this, God. I was the one wearing orange to please you, doing your hair, and touching you more than I should, and you never noticed. I never touched Keyland or John that way.”

”Really? I thought orange became your favourite colour, nothing more.”

She rolls her eyes at him with a chuckle. ”Yeah, men. I’m still waiting for your hints, by the way.”

”I went to every store in London to find the shoes you really wanted last year. I’m always complimenting you –"

”Not always.”

His gaze intensifies, alternating between her eyes and lips. 

”Can I finish talking?”

”No need. You know you were shy with your hints.”

”So that makes two of us.” He responds with a grin. The breeze whistles in their ears almost as encouragement. Djed closes the remaining distance between them until their noses touch. With one hand on her cheek, he brings her lips closer. Both of them fixating on one another as their lips tease. 

When their lips finally seal, her chest warms up at the feeling of his soft lips against hers. Nothing else around them matters as they get lost in their kiss. What started as a shy display of affection becomes more passionate as seconds pass by. Her hands rest on his locs as she pushes him as close as possible.

The claps and whistles interrupt their moment, immediately forcing them to pull away like teens who just had been caught doing something bad. They both roll their eyes at their friends cheering behind them. 

Keylan shouts, ”Finally! Shit, you guys took forever.”

To which Djed responds immediately, ”You’re embarrassing, man.” The group joins them to watch the sunset, completely ignoring the kiss they just had interrupted. Djed and she share a knowing smile as he wraps his arms around her shoulder, leaning to whisper into her ear, ”Don’t worry. We have all the time to kiss now.”

”I agree.” 

They share a small peck, earning another comment from Mira, ”Lovebirds, we get it. Some of us are modest here.”

”Yeah, so modest. You were twerking on a club table last night.” She snaps back while giggling.

”Don’t you think I can’t beat your ass because you’re with Spence now?"

”Who said we’re together?” She teases.

“so where are you from?” you asked, holding your glass and looking at him through your lashes.

“i’m from south london,” he said, his lips curling up into that easy smirk.

“do you live there currently?”

“i do,” he responded, holding your gaze. “but i love to travel.”

“so do i,” you smiled, “ever been to houston?”

“nah, never been,” he admitted. “what about you, have you ever been to london?”

“only once, but it was for a work trip sadly. i didn’t get to see much.”

“well, i’d love to be your tour guide next time,” he said softly, his eyes stayed locked onto yours.

“that can be arranged,” you teased back, taking a sip of your champagne. “so what do you do for work then, tour guide?”

“well, i play football professionally. i believe the american term is soccer,” he said, a playful gleam in his eye as he poked fun at you “actually, i’m taking a bit of a break from it right now. taking some time for myself, seeing what else is out there besides football. that’s how i ended up here.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “okay, i’m impressed. you don’t have any crazy fans that’ll jump me do you?”

“no darling, none of that,” he chuckled, the nickname sliding off his tongue so natural it made your face heat up.

“how old are you, by the way?”

“twenty-five. you?”

“i’m twenty-four... just a year younger,” you hummed, tilting your head.

as you continued to talk, you noticed the chemistry between you was absurdly natural. it didn't feel forced, it was just effortless banter flowing back and forth. the conversation turned softer, drifting toward family. djed’s eyes lit up when he talked about his family back home.

“i’m super close with my dad,” he shared, a genuine, warm smile replacing his smirk. “and i’ve got sisters, so trust me, i know how to treat a woman. i’ve been trained by the best my whole life.”

“okay, points for you,” you laughed, resting your chin in your hand. “sisters don't play about their brother, so i know they kept you in check. i don’t play about mine either.”

“they definitely do,” he laughed, shaking his head. “they’re gonna be watching this like a hawk.”

for a long second, the banter died down, replaced by a thick, heavy tension. his eyes flickered down to your lips before sliding back up to meet your eyes. he wanted to kiss you. bad. and honestly? you wanted him to do it right then and there.

but before either of you could think to make a move, production ruined the moment, calling out that wrap was called and it was time to head back to the villa.

djed let out a quiet sigh, standing up first. he reached his hand back down to you, his fingers warm, large, as he wrapped them around yours to pull you up smoothly.

walking back to the boat, you couldn't wipe the grin off your face if you tried. you were all smiles, skin glowing in the golden hour light, your hair blowing softly in the wind. you liked him. this was it.

this was exactly what you’ve been missing.

back at the villa, everyone was waiting on you to arrive, pacing around the garden like hawks.

meanwhile, alex was in the confessional looking stressed as fuck as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“i really like her,” he admitted to the lens. “and i know things are stagnant right now, but she’s who i’ve had my eye on since day one. i’m just hoping this date doesn’t change too much.”

pretty soon, all four of you walked back into the villa, returning from the dates. you were holding hands with djed, and jayden was walking in holding hands with imani, so you could only assume their date had gone well, too.

mari was the first one to spot you. her eyes went wide, and she immediately ran up to scoop you into a huge embrace, pulling you away from the crowd for a second.

“i missed you lovey,” she squeezed you tight.

“aww i missed you too, honey,” you giggled, hugging her back.

everyone instantly crowded around to greet djed and imani, throwing out quick introductions and awkward high fives. but production didn't give anyone much time—they made the boys and girls split up right away so the debriefs could start.

you and the girls headed straight over to the fire pit, crowding onto the cushioned seats, while the boys took djed and jayden over to the other side of the villa. even though y'all were separated, the boys were still in clear eyesight.

as you sat down, you looked over your shoulder and caught djed looking right at you from across the lawn. he gave you that slow, confident smirk, and you couldn't help but smile back, biting your lip.

“where the fuck did they find him?” one of the girls squealed beside you, fanning herself.

“i wish i knew!” you said, throwing your hands up in the air. “our date was amazing. it was so nice, we had champagne and talked. the chemistry is so crazy. he is from london, but for me, that’s not really a dealbreaker. i mean, it’s still hella early, and i’m down to travel anyway.”

andreina leaned forward, rested her chin on her hands, and gave you a look. “it sounds like you’re really feeling him. where do you stand with alex?”

you sighed softly, glancing over at alex, who looked completely stressed out on the lounger. “i like alex, he’s a great guy. i do feel like i have way more chemistry with djed, but i’m still open to the possibility of getting to know both. i’m not shutting anything down just yet.”

meanwhile, on the boys' side of the villa, the energy was way more tense. the guys were circling around djed like interrogators, questioning him about how the date went.

“yeah, it was pretty chill,” djed said, keeping his cool, real smooth as he leaned back. “i really like her as well.”

alex nodded, trying to play it unbothered, though his jaw was visibly clenched. “is there anyone else you’ve got your eye on?”

djed didn't sweat it. he shrugged casually, taking a sip of his water. “i can’t say there is. not yet at least. i’m open to getting to know everyone.”

“don’t you think you at least owe alex a conversation?” nikki piped up, a blonde girl from cali.

you two hadn’t really gravitated toward each other, only sharing a few quick words since day one. you weren’t even sure why she was grilling you like this all of a sudden.

“of course, i’m not gonna just ignore the man. we literally share a bed.” you said, your brows furrowed as you looked at her.

eventually, you broke off from the rest of the women, slipping away from the fire pit before the tension got weird. you found alex in the kitchen sitting on a barstool, looking down at his water bottle. you walked up soft and placed your hand on his back. he sat up a little straighter, his eyes softening as soon as he saw you.

“hey, i missed you today.”

“did you?” you smiled gently.

“of course,” he replied without missing a beat.

“can we go chat really quick?”

he took your hand, and you both ventured off upstairs into soul ties. once you got comfortable on the big lounge bed, you were both laying slightly sideways, his head resting on his palm while his other hand rested casually on your leg.

“i just wanted to tell you how the date went,” you started, keeping your voice low and real. “i’m sure djed already told you, but i wanted you to hear it straight from me so it’s not weird between us.”

alex nodded, his thumb drawing slow, steady circles on your skin.

“the date did go well. it was nice, we just talked... no kissing or anything like that. i am interested in exploring things with him, but that doesn’t mean that i don’t like what i have with you. i’d like to keep talking to you both. are you okay with that?”

“yes,” alex said, looking down at your leg before meeting your eyes again. “i mean, we’re both still open. there’s nothing wrong with that. i just want you to know that i do like you, and i really would like to see where this goes.”

you smiled at him, giving his hand a squeeze, but in the back of your mind, you couldn't help the comparison. with djed, the physical chemistry, the banter, the butterflies—it was all just there. it was instant. effortless. you didn’t have to grow to like him, it just hit you. you didn’t want to give up on alex so easily, and you definitely didn’t plan to be reckless with his feelings, but your mind couldn’t help but wander right back to the handsome south london boy down in the courtyard.

the camera cut to alex in the beach hut confessional once, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, looking completely stressed out.

“i do really like my couple,” alex sighed, shaking his head. “even if it’s only been a week, i value our connection. but like... production brought a professional footballer in here? who even does that? they call the man godspeed for crying out loud.”

alex dropped his face into his hands, letting out a long, heavy breath as the reality set in that he had some crazy competition. “ugh. why me?”

the rest of the night flowed smoothly. you threw on a vintage roberto cavalli dress that you were lucky enough to snag right before heading out to the island—it hugged every curve perfectly. your hair was down, tumbling over your shoulders, and your makeup was completely flawless. you were standing at the vanity mirror putting the finishing touches on your lip combo when mari piped up to the left of you, eyeing your reflection.

“look at her, trying to look all good and stuff for london bae,” she joked, nudging your hip with hers.

“oh please,” you laughed.

when all the girls were finally ready, you walked down the stairs hand in hand like you did every night, with the boys lined up and waiting at the bottom of the staircase.

djed’s eyes found yours first. the second you stepped into view, a slow, sweet smile broke across his face, and you couldn't help but return it. his eyes stayed locked on you even as you reached the floor and alex stepped up, taking your hand in his.

“you look beautiful,” alex said, looking down at you softly.

“thank you, you look nice too,” you told him with a smile.

djed took imani’s hand to walk her over to the bar, but his head was completely somewhere else, wishing it was your hand in his instead. as everyone gathered around the main bar to toast their glasses of champagne, cheering to having fun this summer, making new friends, and surviving another day, djed's eyes remained pinned on you.

there was just something about you. he’d felt it all the way back in his holding hotel room, watching the early episodes before entering the villa as a bombshell. seeing you on screen was one thing, but up close, in reallife? he was completely enamored.

you were standing near the lounge area talking to amari and andreina, laughing at something mari said, before djed decided he’d had enough of waiting around. he excused himself, stepping away from the boys, and walked straight over to your group.

“excuse me, ladies,” he said, with his deep south london accent that made your knees so so weak. his eyes dipped to yours. “can i pull you for a chat?”

before you could even answer, his palm pressed lightly against the small of your back, warm and solid through the thin silk of your dress. the sudden contact made your stomach flutter like crazy.

“yes, of course,” you said, looking up at him through your lashes. “let’s go to say less.”

the two of you turned and began walking toward the quiet daybed area, his hand comfortably staying put on the small of your back the entire way over.

from across the pool, alex watched the two of you walk off together. he tried so hard not to feel some type of way, taking a slow sip of his drink, but he couldn't stop the deep pang of jealousy heavy in his chest.

he was about to get his girl took.

Normally, you would have laughed.

Tonight, however, you could barely focus on anything except the number five moving across the pitch.

Jude had been restless all morning. He always carried a certain intensity on match days, but this one mattered more than most. The score was still level deep into the second half, and every challenge seemed harder than the last. Every time he gained possession, two opposing players closed in on him. Every time he went down, your stomach clenched.

Still, he kept getting back up.

That was Jude.

You watched him chase down a loose ball near the touchline, shielding it with his body as an opposing midfielder pressed into his back. Their legs tangled. The whistle blew, awarding Madrid the free kick, and Jude turned away without complaint.

At first.

The other player said something.

You couldn’t hear it from your seat. You could only see the way his mouth moved and the smug little smile that followed. One of his teammates laughed beside him.

Jude stopped walking.

Your brows pulled together.

He turned his head slowly, like he wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. The stadium continued roaring around him, but Jude stood frighteningly still.

The player said something else.

This time, whatever it was wiped every trace of concentration from Jude’s face. His expression hardened instantly, jaw flexing as he marched back toward him.

“What the hell?” you muttered, leaning forward.

Jude shoved the player in the chest.

The reaction was immediate.

The player stumbled back before surging forward, hands flying to Jude’s shoulders. Jude knocked them away and stepped closer until they were nearly forehead to forehead. The referee sprinted toward them, whistle shrieking, while players from both teams swarmed the scene.

You shot out of your seat.

“Jude!”

There was no possible way he could hear you, but his name tore from your throat anyway.

The argument grew uglier by the second. Jude was shouting now, pointing directly into the player’s face as Antonio wrapped both arms around his chest and tried to drag him backward. Jude fought against the hold, still barking words you couldn’t understand.

The opposing player’s teammates formed a wall around him, shoving Madrid players away. Someone pushed Jude from the side. He lunged again.

The entire stadium erupted.

You stared in disbelief. Jude got angry, of course. He was competitive, emotional, and far too passionate to pretend he didn’t care. But this was different. This wasn’t frustration over a foul or an argument about a decision.

This looked personal.

“What happened?” you asked no one in particular.

Beside you, one of the other players’ girlfriends looked just as confused. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like that.”

On the pitch, the referee held up a yellow card.

Jude barely looked at it.

His eyes remained fixed on the other player, and even from the stands you could see the fury burning in them. Antonio kept a firm hand pressed to his chest while another teammate spoke close to his ear, trying to calm him.

The opposing player glanced toward your section of the stadium.

It lasted less than a second, but you saw it.

Then he smirked.

A cold, uncomfortable feeling settled in your stomach.

Jude saw that too.

He jerked forward so suddenly that Antonio nearly lost his grip. Several players moved between them again, and the referee warned both sides with frantic gestures.

“Jude, stop,” you whispered, nails digging into your palms. “Please.”

Eventually, the match resumed.

Technically.

Jude played as though something inside him had snapped. Every pass was sharper. Every run was faster. He fought for every ball like it had personally offended him, the crowd roaring each time he won possession.

Ten minutes later, he drove through midfield, exchanged a quick pass at the edge of the box, and buried the return into the bottom corner.

The stadium exploded.

Jude ran toward the corner with his teammates chasing him, but instead of performing his usual celebration, he turned toward the opposing players and stared.

His teammates quickly crowded around him, blocking whatever might happen next.

You should have been celebrating. Everyone around you was screaming, hugging, and jumping.

But all you could think was, What did he say?

Madrid held the lead until the final whistle.

When the match ended, Jude shook hands with almost everyone except the player from earlier. The two were kept on opposite sides of the pitch, surrounded by watchful teammates and staff.

You waited in the players’ family area afterward, bouncing your knee so rapidly that the woman beside you gave it a concerned glance. Usually, after a win, the room buzzed with excitement. Tonight, every cheer sounded distant.

Your phone remained blank.

No message from Jude.

You had replayed the moment a hundred times in your mind by the time the door finally opened.

Jude entered wearing his tracksuit, headphones resting around his neck. His curls were still damp from the shower, and exhaustion sat heavily across his face.

The second he spotted you, something in his expression softened.

You stood. “What happened?”

He glanced around the room. “Can we go somewhere private?”

That did nothing to settle your nerves.

You followed him into the quiet corridor outside. As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, you turned to face him.

“Jude, what happened out there? You nearly got sent off. I thought you were going to hit him.”

“I nearly did.”

“That isn’t comforting.”

“I know.”

He dragged a hand down his face and leaned against the wall. The anger was gone now, or at least buried beneath the surface, but you could still see tension in the set of his shoulders.

You stepped closer. “What did he say?”

Jude’s eyes lifted to yours before immediately looking away.

“Jude.”

“He was trying to get a reaction.”

“Clearly, he got one.”

“Yeah.” He let out a humorless laugh. “He did.”

You waited.

Jude pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. For a moment, you thought he might refuse to tell you. Then his hands curled into fists at his sides.

“He said I’d been distracted all match because I was too busy checking whether you were watching me.”

You blinked. “That’s it?”

“No.”

His voice dropped, and suddenly you understood his hesitation.

“His teammate told him to leave it because they thought I couldn’t hear them. Then he said…” Jude stopped, jaw tightening. “He said you probably weren’t watching the match anyway. Said you were probably too busy looking around for whichever player you’d leave me for next.”

Your mouth fell slightly open.

Jude continued before you could respond, words coming faster now.

“Then he called you a name. I’m not repeating it.”

The pieces clicked into place, the laughter, the smirk, the glance toward the stands.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“So you shoved him?”

“I told him to say it again.”

Despite yourself, you stared at him. “Jude.”

“I told him to say it to my face instead of muttering it to his mate like a coward. He did. So I shoved him.”

There was no pride in his voice. No smugness. Only lingering anger and an almost painful sincerity.

You exhaled and leaned beside him against the wall.

For a few seconds, neither of you spoke.

“You could’ve been sent off,” you said quietly.

“I know.”

“You could get fined.”

“I know.”

“You scared me.”

His head turned immediately. “I’m sorry.”

The apology came so quickly that some of your frustration faded.

Jude moved in front of you, his hands settling gently at your waist. The contrast almost made your chest ache. Those same hands had been shoving someone away less than an hour ago. Now he touched you as though you were something precious.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“That was very obvious.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, but the almost-smile vanished just as quickly.

“I know I should’ve walked away,” he said. “I know people say things on the pitch because they want to get inside your head. They talk about your game, your family, anything they think will work. Usually, I can ignore it.”

“But not me?”

His eyes searched yours.

“Never you.”

The answer was so immediate that warmth rose beneath your skin.

Jude stepped closer until there was barely space between you.

“He doesn’t know you,” he said. “He doesn’t know anything about us. He doesn’t get to look up at you, say something disgusting, then laugh like your name is something he can use to entertain his friends.”

“He didn’t actually say my name, did he?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters a little.”

“Baby.”

The warning in his tone was gentle, but you caught it. You fought back a smile.

“Okay. Sorry.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are.”

You lifted your hands to his face, smoothing your thumbs along the tension in his jaw.

“I appreciate that you wanted to defend me,” you told him. “I do. A very small, slightly unhinged part of me even thinks it was kind of hot.”

“Only a small part?”

“Don’t ruin it.”

His first real smile of the evening appeared. It was brief and tired, but it was there.

You continued, “But I don’t need you risking yourself every time some idiot says something about me. Especially when I can’t even hear it.”

“I could hear it.”

“Unfortunately.”

“And I’m supposed to do what? Let him disrespect you?”

“You scored the winning goal.”

Jude paused.

You raised your eyebrows. “That probably hurt him more than a punch would have.”

His mouth curved again. “The punch would’ve helped.”

“No.”

“A little.”

“Absolutely not.”

He finally laughed, lowering his forehead to yours. The sound was soft, all the sharp edges leaving him at once.

“You’re not angry with me?” he asked.

“I’m a little angry.”

“Fair.”

“And you’re not getting praised for almost starting a brawl.”

“Also fair.”

“But…” You slid your arms around his neck. “I love you.”

His hands tightened at your waist.

“I love you too.”

“Even though I’m apparently preparing to leave you for a mystery footballer?”

Jude pulled back just enough to look at you. “Don’t.”

You laughed at the seriousness in his face. “I’m joking.”

“Not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“It really isn’t.”

He kissed you before you could tease him again.

There was still adrenaline in it. You could feel it in the way he pulled you close, in the firm press of his mouth against yours, in the breath he released when your fingers slipped into the curls at the back of his head.

But beneath all that fire was tenderness.

An apology.

A promise.

When he pulled away, his lips brushed yours as he spoke.

“I’ll handle it better next time.”

You narrowed your eyes. “There won’t be a next time.”

“If there is.”

“You’ll walk away.”

Jude hesitated.

“Jude.”

“I’ll try.”

You gave him a look.

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll walk away.”

“Thank you.”

“After I score.”

You rolled your eyes, but he was smiling now, and you couldn’t help smiling too.

He took your hand and began leading you down the corridor, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“For the record,” you said, “I was watching you the entire match.”

Jude glanced sideways at you, satisfaction immediately returning to his face.

“I know.”

“How?”

He lifted your joined hands and kissed the back of yours.

“Because I always check.”

——

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