Jude Bellingham ♤♡

Confident • Driven • Humble • Protective • Playful • Observant • Encouraging • Competitive

Jude expects a lot from himself.

He trains hard, hates wasting potential, and believes every player earns their place through effort. Even with the attention that comes from playing for Real Madrid and England, he hasn't forgotten what it was like to be a teenager trying to prove himself.

He's competitive to his core, but never at the expense of his teammates. If someone makes a mistake, he's more likely to encourage them than criticize them.

His sense of humor comes out most around the squad. He enjoys harmless teasing, locker-room banter, and making younger players feel included instead of intimidated.

The World Cup.

The biggest stage in football.

Growing up, you’d imagined what it would feel like to hear your name announced in a stadium full of people, to wear your country’s crest, to sing the anthem, to play with the players you’d spent years watching on TV.

One player had always stood out.

Jude Bellingham.

And not only to you, millions of people online were slobbering over him.

It wasn’t just that he was good or looked good. It was everything about him. His funny, but genuine personality and his soft heart, his SMILE, everything.

You'd seen every TikTok where Jude was in multiple times by now.

If you were being honest, you’d had a crush on him for ages.

A very obvious one, too.

You told yourself it was just admiration. That was easier. But was it really just admiration when you were at EVERY game, front row, billboards, and SCREAMING?

So yes, you admired him.

Maybe a little too much.

Years passed.

While other kids kept dreaming, hoping and praying, you worked.

Training before school. Training after school.

Regional football became academy football.

Academy football became professional football.

You learned to play almost anywhere in midfield. You could defend, carry the ball, create chances, and cover ground without thinking about it.

Apparently, someone important had noticed.

Real Madrid.

The call still didn’t feel real.

You’d been offered a place at one of the biggest clubs in the world. WHILE YOU WERE 19.

But the first thing you thought about wasn’t trophies or contracts or the Bernabéu.

It was simpler than that.

"I'M GOING TO MEET AND PLAY WITH JUDE BELLINGHAM!?"

---

Meeting him had been weirdly normal and super nerve-wracking at the same time.

He introduced himself with an easy smile, while your smile was a nervous one. He shook your shaky hand, and welcomed you like you’d been there for years. Which was honestly unfair, because you were already nervous enough without him being that nice.

You’d expected someone intimidating, obviously.

Instead, you got someone who joked during rondos, talked to you like you belonged, and actually noticed when you did something well in training.

That... genuinely warmed your heart. Jude Bellingham saw you. Not the footballer, but the 19 y/o man.

Still, you were the new kid. The "newbie". But Jude didn't see a newbie or a hopeless footballer: He saw potential. A LOT.

There were experienced internationals ahead of you, though.

So when the World Cup started, your name stayed on the bench.

Match one.

Unused substitute.

Match two.

Unused substitute.

Round of 16.

Still watching.

Quarter-final.

Again.

You couldn’t pretend it didn’t sting a bit.

At the same time, sitting on England’s bench at a World Cup was still something most players would kill for.

You celebrated every goal.

Every tackle.

Every win.

You just kept hoping that one day you’d actually get on the pitch.

And, if you were being completely honest, you also kept hoping Jude would notice you more than he already did.

---

Today was different. Very different.

England were deep into another tight knockout game, the semi-final versus Spain. The score was level. Legs were getting heavy. From the bench, you watched Jude do what he always did: cover ridiculous amounts of ground on Spain's side, demand the ball, keep talking, keep pushing everyone around him.

You were already nervous before anything happened. It was 55:29. England currently one point behind, 1 - 2. We needed a substitution.

So... the fourth official stood up with the board.

Your manager turned toward the substitutes.

“You.”

For a second, you genuinely thought he meant someone else. You actually looked behind you, but it was you.

“Get ready.”

Your heart dropped to your ASS.

Staff rushed over, helping you into your shirt while a coach gave you the quick version of the instructions.

“You’ll play just behind Jude. Keep it simple. Move the ball. Don’t overthink it.”

That last part was funny, considering you were already overthinking everything. You just nodded. Shaking your arms a bit.

The board went up.

11.

Your number lit up in red.

The player coming off, a well-known James jogged to the touchline, clapping the crowd.

You took one breath. You rolled your shoulders anxiously, hopped a bit in place once more, then stepped over the white line.

The noise hit you straight away. The English crowd a mix of curious cheers and probably your friends going mayhem seeing you.

Your World Cup debut. At only 19 years old.

Jude spotted you almost instantly.

His face changed right away, like he’d been waiting for this. Curious to see how you'd do in your first match.

He jogged over before play restarted and bumped your shoulder with his.

“Finally.”

You just... laughed.

He gave you that small grin he always had when he was relaxed. The famous, yet adorable grin. The one you'd seen online countless times.

“About time they let you loose.” He said, his British lilt heavy and attractive, how you'd always heard it.

That was Jude being Jude.

Then... The referee blew his whistle.

The ball rolled.

And your World Cup journey finally began.