— jude bellingham

A WORLD AWAY

SHATTERED TRUST, MENDED HEARTS

FIRST GLIMPSE

FULL NAME FRENZY

— mason mount

HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS

— ruben dias

It was a calm, sunny Sunday afternoon at the Bellingham family house—one of those rare lazy days when everyone could simply relax and enjoy each other's company. The smell of a home-cooked lunch lingered in the air as the house buzzed with light conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. It was a perfect family day, but for you, it was the perfect setup for a prank you had been planning for days.

As you sat on the living room couch with your boyfriend, Jude Bellingham, and your three-year-old daughter Rosie, you were practically giddy with excitement. The idea had started as a harmless joke when you stumbled upon a viral TikTok trend. It was simple: call your partner by their full name and capture their reaction. But knowing Jude’s playful personality and the fact that he was surrounded by his family—his parents Denise and Mark, and his younger brother Jobe—you couldn’t resist going all in.

It was about time to pull off the prank, but not without some help from Jude’s family.

The night before, after Jude had gone to bed, you had shared your plan with the rest of the family, gathering them in the kitchen for a secret discussion.

“So, I’ve got a prank in mind,” you whispered with a grin, glancing over your shoulder to make sure Jude wasn’t anywhere near. “And I need all of you to help me pull it off.”

Denise and Mark immediately perked up. Denise smiled warmly as she leaned against the counter, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Oh, I love a good prank. What are we doing?”

You explained the viral TikTok trend and how you planned to call Jude by his full name—Jude Victor William Bellingham—in front of everyone. The key to the prank was keeping a straight face and making Jude think he was in some serious trouble, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong.

Mark chuckled, already seeing how Jude might react. “You know he’s going to be confused as hell. He never hears his full name unless it’s something serious.”

Denise nodded enthusiastically, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “And he hasn’t been called that since he was a little boy. I’m in.”

Jobe, who had been listening while casually scrolling through his phone, suddenly grinned. “Wait, you want us all to act like Jude’s in trouble? Oh, I’m so in for this. I’ll make it dramatic.”

You laughed, already imagining Jobe hamming it up and making Jude’s confusion even worse. “Exactly! He won’t know what hit him. I’m going to start it off casually, and then we’ll see where it goes from there.”

Denise giggled like a schoolgirl. “I can’t wait to see his face.”

“And don’t worry,” you added with a wink. “Rosie will have the final word. She’s going to unknowingly seal the deal.”

Mark laughed and nodded approvingly. “You’re using our granddaughter as the secret weapon. Smart move.”

The plan was set. You all knew your roles. Now, all you had to do was wait until tomorrow.

The next day, everything felt perfect. The family had gathered in the living room after a hearty lunch. Jude, unaware of what was coming, was lounging comfortably on the couch next to you, scrolling through Netflix and mindlessly suggesting shows to watch.

Your daughter, Rosie, was sitting on the floor, her tiny fingers wrapped around the plastic handles of her dolls as she hummed happily to herself. Jude’s parents, Denise and Mark, sat across the room in armchairs, chatting softly, while Jobe sprawled out on the other couch, pretending to be deep into his phone, but really waiting for his moment to strike.

You caught Denise’s eye from across the room, and she gave you a small, conspiratorial nod. It was time.

You leaned back against the cushions, acting as casual as you could, before dropping the bomb. “Jude Victor William Bellingham,” you said, your voice carrying just enough weight to suggest seriousness, but not too much to make it sound fake.

Jude’s body froze. He turned slowly to look at you, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Wait... what?” he said, blinking at you as if you had just said something in a foreign language.

You stared back at him, keeping your face completely neutral. “You heard me,” you said with a deadpan expression. “Jude Victor William Bellingham.”

The room fell silent. Denise lowered her cup of tea slowly, her eyes widening in what could only be described as mock concern. Mark raised an eyebrow from behind his newspaper, peeking over the top like he was waiting for some kind of explanation. Even Jobe, who had been doing his best to act oblivious, now sat up straighter, his mouth open in exaggerated shock.

“Bro,” Jobe muttered, shaking his head dramatically. “Not the full name. You’re in deep now.”

Jude looked around the room, his expression one of total confusion. “What the hell is going on? Why are you using my full name like that?”

Denise, ever the supportive mom, chimed in softly, her voice laced with concern. “Sweetheart, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Jude exclaimed, laughing nervously, but still visibly unsettled by the sudden use of his full name. “Why is everyone acting like I’ve committed some crime?”

You tried your hardest to maintain your composure, but it was difficult. Jude’s face was a mix of disbelief, nervousness, and slight panic, like he was trying to figure out if there was some major mistake he didn’t remember making.

Jobe, of course, leaned into the drama, shaking his head slowly. “Nah, bro, when they drop your full name like that, it’s over. You’ve done something. Just admit it now and save yourself.”

Jude looked genuinely baffled now, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “But I haven’t done anything! I swear!”

You kept your serious expression, though inside you were practically bursting with laughter. “Jude Victor William Bellingham,” you repeated, drawing out each syllable for extra effect. “I can’t believe you don’t know what you’ve done.”

Jude threw his hands up in the air, looking helplessly around the room. “I’m telling you, I’ve got no idea! Mum, Dad, help me out here!”

Denise shrugged, her lips pressed together as if she were trying hard not to laugh. “I don’t know, Jude. She used your full name. You must have done something.”

At this point, Mark lowered his newspaper fully, folding it on his lap as he gave Jude a sympathetic look. “Son, full names are no joke. Maybe it’s time to come clean.”

Jude groaned, still laughing but now visibly confused and stressed. “But there’s nothing to come clean about! You’re all ganging up on me for no reason!”

That’s when Rosie, who had been mostly absorbed in her dolls, suddenly looked up. Her big brown eyes, wide and full of innocence, locked onto her father. She paused for a moment, processing the serious tone everyone had adopted, before deciding it was time for her input.

In the sweetest, most innocent voice, she pointed a tiny finger at Jude and said, “Oooooh, Dada, you’re in soooo much trouble.”

That was it. The room erupted into chaos. Jobe doubled over, clutching his stomach as he let out a loud laugh. Denise was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, while Mark chuckled deeply, unable to contain himself. You couldn’t hold it in any longer either, bursting into giggles as Rosie’s serious tone tipped everyone over the edge.

Jude, now laughing but still utterly bewildered, pulled Rosie into his lap, covering her face with kisses as she squealed with delight. “You little traitor!” he teased, tickling her until she shrieked with laughter. “Even you’re turning against me?”

Rosie wiggled in his arms, still giggling as she buried her face into his chest. “Dada in trouble!” she squeaked, clearly enjoying the attention and the fact that she had somehow been part of the big prank.

You wiped the tears from your eyes, finally catching your breath. “You should’ve seen your face, Jude. You looked like you were trying to figure out if you’d broken the law or something!”

Jude shook his head, though his smile was wide and affectionate. “I genuinely thought I’d forgotten something major, like our anniversary or Rosie’s birthday or—I don’t even know!” He laughed, running a hand through his hair again. “You got me good, I’ll give you that.”

Denise, still recovering from her laughter, smiled warmly at you. “That was brilliant, darling. You’ve officially outdone yourself.”

Mark nodded in agreement. “I’ve never seen Jude look so lost in my life. Well done.”

Jobe, who had been leaning back on the couch with a smug grin, chimed in. “I’ll give you points for execution, but honestly, Rosie’s line took it to a whole new level. That was gold.”

Rosie, still sitting in Jude’s lap, seemed to sense that she had become the star of the show. She smiled proudly, looking up at her father with wide eyes. “I got you, Dada,” she said softly, and Jude’s heart melted on the spot.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a big hug. “Yeah, you did, little one. You’re too smart for your own good.”

You couldn’t help but feel a swell of warmth in your chest as you watched the scene unfold. What had started as a lighthearted prank had turned into one of those perfect family moments—filled with love, laughter, and the kind of joy that only comes from being surrounded by the people who matter most.

Jude leaned back, cradling Rosie against his chest, and gave you a playful look. “You realize this means war, right? There’s no way I’m letting you get away with this.”

You raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Well, if you think you’re getting away with pranks this easily, you’re in for a surprise.”

Mark, who had returned to his newspaper, chuckled quietly. “Careful, son. She’s got Rosie on her side. You don’t stand a chance.”

Jobe snickered. “Yeah, man. You’re outnumbered.”

Denise, always the peacemaker, leaned forward and patted Jude’s knee. “Well, at least now you know what it feels like to be on the receiving end of a prank. I’d say it builds character.”

Jude groaned dramatically but squeezed Rosie a little tighter, his playful eyes never leaving yours. “I guess this is what I get for falling in love with a prankster.”

You leaned in closer, your voice soft but teasing. “And don’t forget, I’ve got the ultimate prank partner right here.” You gestured toward Rosie, who had already snuggled into Jude’s chest, her tiny hand gripping his shirt as she started to doze off after all the excitement.

Jude smiled, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Yeah, yeah. I guess if it’s you two, I can handle a little trouble.”

As the afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the cozy living room, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the simple joys of family life. The prank had been a success, sure, but more than that, it was moments like these—filled with love, laughter, and the people you loved most—that made everything feel just right.

The camera focuses in on a familiar setting for those who follow Jude Bellingham’s career: the cozy, welcoming living room of the Bellingham family home. The walls are adorned with family photos, mementos from Jude’s rise in football, and hints of his personality—trophies and framed jerseys alongside warm family portraits.

But today, the focus is on you. You sit on the sofa, the soft cushions surrounding you as the camera captures your slight nervousness. A small, warm smile crosses your face, and you shift in your seat, unused to the spotlight.

A voice from behind the camera breaks the silence. The interviewer. “So, this is your first time on camera. How are you feeling?”

You chuckle, glancing off-screen for a moment as if looking for support before turning back. “Yeah, it’s definitely new for me. I’m more of a private person, so this is... different, but I’m excited to be part of this.”

There’s an understanding laugh from the interviewer. “For everyone watching, could you introduce yourself?”

You nod and give a small wave. “Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’m Jude’s girlfriend, and, um... yeah, I’m usually not in front of the camera, so this is a bit out of my comfort zone,” you say, your voice laced with both nerves and humor.

The interviewer continues smoothly, keeping the tone light. “So, let’s jump into the good stuff. How did you and Jude meet?”

You pause for a moment, your eyes softening as you think back to the day. “Well, I actually knew who Jude was,” you begin with a smile. “I mean, he’s Jude Bellingham. Anyone who follows football knows who he is. But I never imagined I’d actually end up dating him. That wasn’t even on my radar.”

The camera cuts to a shot of Jude laughing in an earlier part of the documentary, as if he’s recounting the same story, though from his perspective. His grin is wide, and there’s a glint in his eyes that shows how much he enjoys this memory.

You continue, your voice a little more relaxed now as you find your rhythm. “We met through mutual friends at a small gathering. I’d seen him play on TV and heard about him through the grapevine, but when we met in person, he was just... Jude. Not the football star. Just this really laid-back, funny guy.”

“So, did you know right away that you liked him?” the interviewer asks, intrigued.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Not at all. I was definitely attracted to him—he’s handsome, obviously—but I didn’t expect anything more than just a friendly conversation that night. I thought it’d be a ‘Hey, nice to meet you,’ and that’d be it.”

There’s a brief pause, and the interviewer presses gently. “So what changed?”

You smile, eyes twinkling with the memory. “Jude changed. We ended up talking the whole night. It was so easy with him, and I realized he wasn’t just this football prodigy everyone sees on the pitch. He’s so much more. Kind, funny, and really grounded. But it was his persistence that surprised me the most. After that night, he didn’t just let it end there. He reached out, wanted to spend time with me, and honestly? I couldn’t resist his charm.”

The camera switches to a series of candid clips, showing you and Jude out and about—him pulling faces to make you laugh, you playfully pushing him away before being pulled into a hug. It’s the kind of chemistry that makes it clear this relationship runs deep, full of mutual adoration and comfort.

“So, how long have you two been together now?” the interviewer asks off-screen.

You think for a second, tilting your head slightly as you calculate. “A little over two years now. Time flies, honestly. It’s been an incredible ride.”

“And what’s it been like, dating someone as high-profile as Jude?”

You take a deep breath, nodding. “It’s definitely been an adjustment. At first, it was a bit overwhelming, especially with how much attention he gets. But we had a conversation early on about keeping our relationship private, at least until we were ready. Jude’s been really protective of that—he’s always made sure I feel comfortable, and I love that about him. But I also understand that he’s a public figure, and being with him means that sometimes, I’ll be seen too. This,” you gesture around at the cameras, “is one of those times.”

The camera cuts to another moment—this time, Jude and you are walking through a park, your hands loosely clasped together. He swings your arm playfully, then stops to pull you into his side, whispering something in your ear that makes you laugh. It’s easy, intimate, and full of warmth.

“Speaking of being seen,” the interviewer continues, “how does it feel to finally share a bit of your relationship with the world?”

You laugh softly. “It’s exciting, I guess. People have always been curious, but I’ve been pretty firm about staying out of the spotlight. I’m not someone who thrives on attention like Jude does. But it’s nice to be able to show this part of his life. People know him as the footballer, but they don’t really see the person behind all of that. I’m happy to share a little bit of what we have, because it’s special.”

The camera pans across the Bellingham household, warm and inviting with the sounds of family chatter filling the air. Thanksgiving Eve at the Bellingham’s is a full house. Jude’s dad, Mark, is in the living room, laughing loudly with Jobe and Jude as they discuss football, while his mom, Denise, is in the kitchen, bustling about as she prepares the family meal.

The lens of the camera focuses on you for a moment. You’re helping Denise chop vegetables, your hands moving a little slower than hers but with focus, and you share a comfortable conversation. A nervous laugh escapes you as you attempt to cut the vegetables to her standard.

“Are you sure I’m doing this right?” you ask, holding up an unevenly chopped carrot with a teasing smile. “It doesn’t look quite like yours.”

Denise glances over and laughs softly, reaching out to gently touch your arm in reassurance. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re doing just fine,” she says, her voice full of warmth. “Trust me, my first Thanksgiving wasn’t perfect either. And honestly, even if it’s a bit wonky, it’s still going to taste amazing.”

Her words, her tone—there’s something deeply maternal in the way Denise speaks to you. It’s as if you’re already a part of the family, not just Jude’s girlfriend, but someone she holds close to her heart. You smile at her gratefully, feeling that familiar warmth whenever you’re around her.

Denise’s attention turns fully to you now, setting down her wooden spoon and wiping her hands on a towel before stepping closer. “You know,” she begins, her voice soft and kind, “I’ve always thought of you like a daughter. You’re such a big part of Jude’s life, but you’ve also become such an important part of ours too.”

You look at her, slightly taken aback by the depth of her words. Your heart swells in your chest, not expecting the surge of emotion. “That means the world to me, Denise,” you say, your voice quiet but sincere. “I’ve always felt so welcomed here. You and Mark, and even Jobe—you’ve all made me feel like part of the family from day one.”

Denise steps forward, enveloping you in a gentle but tight hug, the kind that only a mother could give. “That’s because you are family,” she whispers against your shoulder. “We love you like one of our own.”

You close your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to sink into her embrace, feeling a wave of comfort wash over you. In this family, you’ve found something special—something you didn’t expect to have when you first started dating Jude. It’s not just a relationship with him; it’s a bond with the people who raised him, who made him the person you love so deeply.

As you pull away, Denise gives you a warm smile, her eyes soft with affection. “Jude’s a lucky man,” she says, glancing toward the living room where Jude is seated. “But then again, I think we’re all lucky to have you around.”

You chuckle softly, still holding onto the warm feeling in your chest. “I’m the lucky one. Jude’s incredible, and you’ve all been nothing but wonderful.”

Denise’s eyes twinkle as she leans in conspiratorially. “He’s a handful sometimes, though, isn’t he?”

You laugh, nodding in agreement. “Oh, definitely. But I love him all the more for it.”

Denise shakes her head, her smile growing wider. “Good, because he needs someone like you to keep him in check.”

There’s a shared understanding between the two of you, the kind that goes beyond words. Denise pats your hand and returns to stirring the pot, the air between you filled with warmth and affection. It’s a small moment, but one that fills your heart, making you realize just how deeply connected you’ve become to Jude’s family.

The scene transitions to the dining room, where the entire family is gathered around the table. Mark is telling a story, his booming laugh punctuating the conversation as Jobe makes a playful remark. Jude sits beside you, his arm draped over the back of your chair, his fingers occasionally brushing against your shoulder as he smiles and laughs along with his family.

“Jobe, pass the bread,” Jude says, reaching across the table with a grin.

Jobe rolls his eyes dramatically but tosses the basket of bread to his brother. “There you go, Mr. Superstar.”

You nudge Jude with your elbow as he catches the bread. “You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t start charging for autographs at family dinners.”

Jude grins, leaning in closer to you. “Oh, I’d give you an autograph for free,” he teases, his voice low and playful.

You roll your eyes but smile, and as Jude reaches for his plate, Denise catches your eye from across the table. She gives you a wink, as if to say, See what I mean? A handful.

The love and ease that fills the room is palpable. You can’t help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude. This family has welcomed you, loved you, and made you one of their own, and tonight is a perfect reflection of that.

The camera lingers on the scene—Jude’s hand resting on your shoulder, Denise watching her sons with pride, and you laughing along with them, fully immersed in the warmth of their family dynamic.

As the evening winds down, and dessert is served, Jude’s dad, Mark, stands up, raising a glass. “I think we all know what I’m about to say,” he begins with a grin. “But this Thanksgiving, I just want to take a moment to say how grateful we all are. Grateful for family, for good health, and, of course, for the wonderful woman who’s come into our lives and made our son the happiest he’s ever been.”

You blink, taken aback by the sudden toast, your eyes glancing around the table. Denise smiles warmly at you, her eyes filled with affection, and Jude leans closer, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze under the table.

“To Y/N,” Mark says, raising his glass higher. “Welcome to the family. Officially.”

There’s a soft murmur of agreement as everyone raises their glasses, and you feel your throat tighten with emotion. It’s not just words—it’s a promise. A declaration that you belong here, with them.

As everyone takes a sip, Jude leans in and presses a kiss to your temple, whispering, “I told you they love you.”

You turn to him, your heart full. “And I love them.”

The camera captures the final moments of the evening—the plates scattered with crumbs, the soft murmur of conversation as everyone winds down, and the love that fills the room. The bond between you and Jude has always been special, but tonight, it’s clear that your relationship extends beyond just the two of you. You’ve found a home with his family, and they’ve found a place in your heart.

Beside you, Aaron clings to your arm, eyes drooping with exhaustion, but still holding out, waiting for Mason. His twin brother, Austin, is doing his best to stay awake too, a smile on his face as he talks about how his daddy will be home soon.

“Mommy,” Aaron mumbles softly, leaning his head against your shoulder, “is Daddy gonna make it?”

You smile at him, brushing his curly hair back. “He’ll be here soon, sweetheart. He promised, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, and Daddy never breaks promises,” Austin chimes in, his voice full of certainty. There’s that sparkle in his eyes whenever Mason is mentioned—a reflection of his bond with his dad. Austin has always been Mason’s shadow, a daddy’s boy through and through.

Aaron, on the other hand, is more of your quiet companion. He mirrors your calmness, often content with just snuggling close to you, whereas Austin is always full of energy, ready to play, especially if it involves his father.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening fills the house. Mason’s voice follows, low but full of warmth. “I’m home!”

Before you can blink, Austin is up and running down the stairs, calling out, “Daddy! Daddy!”

You scoop Aaron up, cradling his small body against yours as you walk to the door. You both arrive just in time to see Austin launching himself into Mason’s arms. Mason catches him easily, spinning him around as if he’s not exhausted from the match. His eyes meet yours over Austin’s shoulder, and his tired smile makes your heart skip a beat.

“You’re home,” you say softly, meeting him halfway. He pulls you into a quick kiss, Aaron still in your arms.

“Told you I’d make it,” he murmurs against your lips before turning his attention back to Austin. “Did you behave for Mommy?”

Austin nods enthusiastically, his arms still tightly wrapped around Mason’s neck. “Yeah, but I missed you, Daddy.”

“I missed you too, buddy,” Mason says, ruffling his hair. “What about you, Aaron?” He reaches out to ruffle Aaron’s hair as well, but Aaron squirms a little closer to you.

Aaron gives a small smile. “I missed you too, Daddy.”

Mason’s face softens even more, if that’s possible. He steps closer and gently takes Aaron from your arms, holding both boys now. “I’ve got time for a story. How about it?”

Austin’s eyes light up. “Yes! Can we read The Gruffalo?”

Aaron’s head rests against Mason’s shoulder, his voice quieter but just as eager. “Yeah, I like that one.”

You follow the trio upstairs, your heart swelling with love as you watch Mason carrying both boys toward their bedroom. Austin, as always, is chattering excitedly about the match, asking Mason if he scored a goal, if he tackled anyone. And Aaron, quiet but equally engaged, is listening to every word.

Once in the boys’ room, Mason sets them down gently on the bed and tucks them under their blankets. He grabs the book from the bedside table and settles between the twins, flipping through the well-worn pages. You sit in the armchair by the door, watching as your husband leans back, Austin snuggled up against his side, and Aaron resting his head on Mason’s chest.

Mason begins reading, his voice calm and soothing. He’s always been a natural at this, slipping into the different voices for the characters, making both boys giggle and smile.

“‘A mouse took a stroll through the deep dark wood…’” Mason’s voice fills the room, and as he reads, you notice the way Austin hangs on every word, his eyes wide with awe. Meanwhile, Aaron’s eyes start to flutter shut, his small hand gripping Mason’s shirt.

You feel a lump form in your throat as you watch them. These moments, when Mason balances being both a football star and a father, always make you fall for him all over again. He’s so dedicated, not just to his career but to your family. The way he makes time, even after the toughest matches, just to ensure he’s there for the boys—it's enough to make your heart ache with love.

As Mason reaches the end of the story, both boys are nearly asleep. He closes the book and softly kisses Austin’s forehead, then Aaron’s. “Goodnight, little man,” he whispers to Austin, who’s already drifting off.

“Goodnight, Daddy,” Austin murmurs sleepily, his hand still gripping Mason’s.

Mason then turns to Aaron, gently brushing a strand of hair off his face. “Goodnight, Aaron.”

Aaron, already half-asleep, mumbles, “Love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too,” Mason whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

You stand, walking over to Mason as he slowly eases out of the bed, careful not to wake the boys. He slips his arm around your waist, and the two of you step out of the room quietly, closing the door behind you.

In the hallway, you turn to him, your heart full. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Mason looks at you with that familiar, boyish grin. “Just doing my best.”

You pull him into a hug, resting your head against his chest. His arms wrap around you tightly, and for a moment, the world outside fades away. In this moment, it’s just you, Mason, and the beautiful family you’ve built together.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you more,” he replies softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Jude, please, just listen to me—"

"I’ve already heard enough!" Jude's voice roared through the apartment, his anger palpable, bouncing off the walls like daggers. He stood in the kitchen, fists clenched, chest heaving, trying to contain the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. His dark eyes, usually so warm when they looked at you, were cold and distant, as if he couldn’t even recognize you.

You stood frozen near the door, the keys you had just placed on the entry table trembling under your fingers. You had no idea what you were walking into. Coming home after a long day at work, all you wanted was to relax with Jude, maybe watch a movie, talk about your day—but instead, you were met with fury.

"Jude," you whispered, your voice shaking, tears already welling in your eyes. "Please. Just tell me what’s going on."

He scoffed bitterly, turning away from you as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Don’t act like you don’t know," he muttered, his back to you now as he stared out the window into the rainy night.

You blinked, confused. "I—I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Jude whipped around, his expression dark. "Oh, don’t play innocent, Y/N. I know about you and Ryan."

The mention of Ryan's name hit you like a punch to the gut. Ryan was a colleague from work—someone you'd had to collaborate with closely for the last few weeks due to a project, but it had never been anything more than that. He was friendly, sure, but you never saw him in that way. You never even thought Jude would be suspicious. "Ryan? Jude, he's just a co-worker, we—"

"A co-worker? That’s funny, because that’s not what everyone else seems to think!" Jude's voice was dripping with bitterness, a tone you had never heard from him before. "Do you think I’m stupid? You think I don’t see the way you’ve been acting? Coming home late, spending more time with him than with me—"

You shook your head frantically, trying to approach him, but he stepped back, his face twisted in hurt and disbelief. "Jude, no, it's not like that! I swear, it’s just work! There’s nothing going on between me and Ryan, you have to believe me!"

But Jude wasn’t listening. He wasn’t hearing you. All he could see, all he could feel, was the poison that had been festering in his mind for days, the doubts and insecurities that had been fueled by whispers and rumors. He was blinded by his pain.

"You think I’m an idiot? You think I haven’t heard the rumors? Everyone’s been talking about it, Y/N. About how you and him have been seen together, laughing, having lunch, all those 'late nights' at the office. I bet they weren’t all about work, were they?"

You were shaking now, tears streaming down your face as you tried to reach out to him. "Jude, please. I would never—"

"I don’t want to hear it!" His voice cracked, loud and raw, and it silenced you. His anger was too much, too overwhelming. You had never seen him like this before—this angry, this distant. And it broke your heart to see the doubt in his eyes, the mistrust.

"I thought I knew you," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, almost more painful than his shouts. "I thought we had something real. But maybe I was wrong."

Your chest constricted painfully, your breath hitching as you reached for him one last time, desperate to hold on to something that was slipping away. "Jude, please," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Don’t do this. I love you."

But Jude’s gaze hardened. "If you loved me, you wouldn’t have lied to me."

The silence that followed was deafening, your heart shattering into a million pieces as he turned his back to you again, his next words sealing your fate.

"Get out."

You stood there, frozen, your mind racing as you tried to comprehend what he had just said. "What?"

"Get. Out," he repeated, his voice quiet but firm, as if he couldn’t even bear to look at you anymore. "I don’t want to see you right now."

Your world came crashing down in that moment, the weight of his words too much to bear. You opened your mouth to say something, to beg him to listen to you, but no words came out. You felt numb, completely broken.

With trembling hands, you grabbed your bag and stumbled toward the door, your vision blurry from the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. As you reached for the doorknob, you turned back one last time, hoping—praying—that Jude would stop you, that he would realize how wrong he was and call you back.

But he didn’t.

He stood there, rigid and unmoving, his eyes focused on the floor, his expression unreadable.

And so, you left.

The rain was relentless, soaking through your clothes as you stepped out onto the dark street. You wrapped your arms around yourself, shivering both from the cold and the overwhelming despair that consumed you. You couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t breathe. All you could do was walk, your feet moving without direction, aimlessly wandering the city streets, your mind still reeling from everything that had just happened.

How had things gone so wrong? How had the love you shared with Jude turned into this nightmare?

You pulled out your phone, trying to dial your friend’s number, but your hands were trembling too much to type properly. You managed to hit send, but as you crossed the street, you didn’t hear the roar of the car coming toward you until it was too late.

The blinding lights flashed before your eyes, and then— Nothing.

Jude sat on the couch, his hands covering his face as he let out a shaky breath. He had kicked you out. The realization sank in slowly, the weight of what he’d done pressing down on him like a heavy, suffocating blanket.

I kicked her out.

The anger that had burned so fiercely in him just moments ago was gone, replaced by a sickening sense of guilt and dread. The apartment felt too quiet, too empty without you there. And now, sitting there alone in the dark, he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that something was terribly wrong.

His phone buzzed in his lap, dragging him out of his thoughts. It wasn’t a number he recognized.

"Hello?" His voice was hoarse, tired.

"Is this Jude Bellingham?" a woman’s voice asked, calm but urgent.

"Yes," he answered slowly, his heart beginning to race. "Who is this?"

"This is St. Mary’s Hospital. I’m calling about your partner. She’s been in an accident."

Jude felt the floor drop out from beneath him. "An accident? What—how bad is it?"

"She’s in critical condition. We need you to come to the hospital as soon as possible."

Jude’s legs felt like lead as he sprinted through the hospital’s sterile halls, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he reached the emergency ward. His heart pounded violently in his chest, panic rising with each step.

A nurse led him to your room, where the sight of you lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to machines, left him frozen in place.

His world shattered in that moment.

You were so pale, so still, and the beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound in the room. Jude sank into the chair by your bedside, his hands shaking as he reached out to take yours.

"I’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking as tears filled his eyes. "God, I’m so sorry, *Y/N*. I didn’t mean any of it. I should’ve believed you."

He squeezed your hand gently, bringing it to his lips as his tears fell freely now. "Please wake up," he begged. "Please. I need you. I—I love you. I was so stupid. I should have trusted you."

The guilt gnawed at him, tearing him apart as he watched your chest rise and fall weakly with each breath. How had he let things spiral this far? Why hadn’t he listened? Why hadn’t he let you explain?

For three days, Jude didn’t leave your side. He barely slept, barely ate. He couldn’t think of anything else but you and how wrong he had been.

When your fingers twitched on the fourth day, Jude’s heart leapt in his chest.

Your eyes fluttered open, groggy and disoriented, the bright lights of the hospital room making you wince. Everything felt heavy, your body aching, and it took you a moment to remember what had happened.

"Y/N?" Jude’s voice was soft, but urgent, pulling you back to reality. You turned your head slowly, finding him sitting beside you, his face pale, eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying.

"Jude…" you whispered, your voice hoarse.

Jude reached for your hand, his fingers trembling as he held yours tightly. "I’m so sorry," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I was so wrong, *Y/N*. I was so stupid. I—I didn’t trust you, and I should have. I should have believed you. None of this—none of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t been such an idiot."

You blinked, trying to process everything, your heart aching at the sight of him so broken. "Jude…" you whispered again, trying to find the right words. "It’s okay."

"No, it’s not." He shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks as he pressed your hand to his lips. "It’s not okay. I almost lost you because I was too caught up in my own insecurities to trust you. I should’ve known you would never… I should’ve known better."

You looked into his eyes, the raw pain and regret there clear as day, and despite everything—despite the accident, the pain, the heartache—you still loved him. You had always loved him. "Jude, I love you," you whispered, managing a small smile despite the tears in your own eyes. "I never wanted to hurt you. I would never cheat on you."

He let out a shuddering breath, leaning down to rest his forehead against your hand. "I know," he whispered. "I know now. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I swear. If you’ll have me."

You squeezed his hand weakly, your voice soft but filled with emotion. "Of course I will. I’m not going anywhere."

Life had become a whirlwind of responsibilities. You hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in months, between managing the house, chasing after your two children, and trying to carve out a moment of peace for yourself. Every morning, you felt like you were running on fumes, moving from one task to the next, just trying to keep everything afloat. Jude had been supportive, as always, but even with his help, the weight of motherhood was starting to overwhelm you.

You loved your children with all your heart, but it felt like you’d lost a part of yourself in the process. The exhaustion was more than just physical; it was emotional. Every day, you gave and gave, until there was nothing left for yourself. The spark in your eyes had dimmed, and Jude noticed.

One night, after the kids were finally asleep, you collapsed on the couch, staring blankly at the TV screen. Jude sat beside you, gently rubbing your back as you rested your head on his shoulder. You didn’t say much. You didn’t need to. He could feel how tired you were, how much you were struggling, even if you didn’t complain.

“Love,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of concern. “You’re completely drained. I can see it, and I hate seeing you like this. You’re always giving so much. Let me take care of you.”

You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment. “I’m just… tired, Jude. The kids, the house, everything. It’s like I haven’t had a second to just breathe.”

Jude pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’ve got an idea. Let me spoil you for a bit, yeah?”

You looked up at him, confused but intrigued. “What do you mean?”

A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Pack a bag. Just the two of us. I’m taking you away.”

“Jude, we can’t. What about the kids?”

“My mum’s already agreed to take care of them for a few days. You need this, and so do I.” He gave you a reassuring grin. “Trust me. You deserve a break, love.”

Before you knew it, you were on a plane, flying halfway across the world to an unknown destination. Jude had kept everything a secret, and despite your initial reservations, excitement started to bubble inside you. The idea of leaving behind the chaos of everyday life — even just for a short while — was exhilarating.

After hours of travel, you finally arrived at your destination. When you stepped out of the plane, the warm ocean breeze hit your face, and you gasped. You were on a private island, the kind you’d only ever seen in travel magazines. The beach stretched out before you, with powdery white sand and crystal-clear waters that shimmered under the sun. A luxurious villa was nestled just a short walk from the shore, secluded and surrounded by lush greenery.

“Jude,” you breathed, unable to believe your eyes. “This… this is amazing.”

He smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist as he guided you towards the villa. “I wanted to take you somewhere where we could just be us. No kids, no stress. Just you and me.”

The villa was even more stunning inside, with its open-plan design, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean, and a spacious balcony where you could watch the sunset. Everything felt perfect, like a dream.

For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe. There were no little feet running around, no toys to pick up, no diapers to change. It was just you and Jude, with nothing but time.

The days passed slowly, in the best possible way. You and Jude fell into a rhythm that was all about relaxation. Mornings were spent walking along the beach, the gentle waves lapping at your feet as Jude held your hand, laughing and stealing kisses like you were a pair of teenagers in love. Afternoons were for lounging by the pool, with the sun warming your skin and Jude’s voice softly teasing you as he splashed water playfully. You’d laugh, feeling lighter than you had in months.

But it was the nights that felt the most intimate. After quiet dinners under the stars, you’d retreat to your villa, where the sound of the ocean lulled you into a sense of calm. It was in those moments that you and Jude reconnected, finding each other in the quiet spaces where your lives had been too loud before.

One particular evening, after a long day of exploring the island, you stood on the balcony of your villa, gazing out at the moonlit ocean. The air was warm, and the gentle breeze made the palm trees sway. Jude joined you, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind as he pulled you close, pressing his lips to the side of your neck.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ve missed seeing you like this.”

You closed your eyes, leaning back against him, feeling the tension in your body melt away. “I feel like I can finally relax,” you whispered. “Thank you, Jude. I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

He turned you around to face him, his hands resting on your hips as his eyes searched yours. “You’ve been incredible with the kids, with everything. But I want to take care of you too. You deserve that.”

You smiled softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His eyes darkened with a mixture of love and desire as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. It was the kind of kiss that reminded you of how deeply connected the two of you were, even after all the years and everything you’d been through. Slowly, his hands began to explore your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

Jude pulled you inside, his kisses growing more passionate as he guided you toward the bed. The air between you was thick with desire, but there was no rush. This was about the two of you, taking your time to rediscover each other.

You could feel the soft fabric of your dress falling away as Jude’s hands roamed over your skin. His touch was familiar, yet electric, igniting a fire inside you that you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world, his gaze full of adoration and love.

As he lowered you onto the bed, his lips never leaving yours, your body responded to his touch with an intensity that surprised you. Each caress, each kiss, was slow and deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every moment with you. The way his hands moved over your body made you feel cherished, desired, and more connected to him than ever before.

When he finally joined you, his weight was a comforting presence above you, grounding you in the moment. The intimacy between you was sweet and slow, a reaffirmation of the love you shared. Every touch, every movement was filled with tenderness, a silent conversation between two people who had been through so much together and come out stronger on the other side.

Afterwards, as you lay in his arms, your head resting on his chest, you felt a deep sense of peace wash over you. The sound of his heartbeat, steady and reassuring, lulled you into a state of complete contentment. For the first time in months, you felt truly relaxed, as if all the weight you’d been carrying had been lifted.

“Thank you,” you whispered into the quiet, your voice soft but filled with emotion.

Jude kissed the top of your head, his arm tightening around you protectively. “For what, love?”

“For bringing me here. For taking care of me. For everything.”

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You take care of everyone else. It’s my turn to take care of you. I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

In that moment, wrapped in his embrace and the tranquility of your surroundings, you felt completely at peace. The exhaustion that had once seemed insurmountable was gone, replaced by a deep sense of love and connection. You knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Jude would face them together.

You shifted nervously, your fingers brushing over the slight swell of your belly. At 12 weeks pregnant, the bump was barely noticeable, but to you, it felt like the entire world could see it. Today was supposed to be exciting—you were finally going to tell your brothers, Charles and Arthur, that they were going to be uncles. You had kept it quiet for long enough, wanting to wait until you felt certain that everything was okay.

Ruben, ever the calm presence, stood next to you, his hand lightly resting on your lower back. His eyes held that quiet confidence that made you feel safe no matter what. You loved him deeply for that, especially now. The two of you had been through so much over the past year, more than your brothers even knew.

"Are you sure you're ready?" Ruben asked, his voice soft, only for you.

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, it’s time. They deserve to know."

Charles and Arthur were in the next room, talking animatedly about something related to the race weekend. They were in Monaco, which meant a family get-together. Normally, you loved these moments—your brothers were your best friends, your protectors—but today, your nerves were a mess.

"Come on," you whispered to Ruben, reaching for his hand. Together, you stepped into the living room where Charles and Arthur were lounging on the couch, half-watching TV.

"Hey, there she is!" Charles called, grinning up at you. His eyes flicked briefly to Ruben, giving him an approving nod. Your relationship with Ruben had been a point of concern for your brothers at first, but after four years, they had accepted him as family.

"You two finally done hiding away?" Arthur added with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. "You’ve been acting weird all day."

Your heart pounded in your chest. You could feel Ruben’s hand tighten slightly around yours as he stepped forward to offer some support.

"There’s something we want to tell you," Ruben said, his voice steady and calm, as always.

Charles and Arthur both turned fully toward you, their playful smiles fading into expressions of concern.

"Okay… what’s going on?" Charles asked, sitting up straighter. "Is everything alright?"

You swallowed hard. The words felt heavy on your tongue, but you forced them out. "I’m pregnant."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Arthur blinked, looking from you to Ruben, and then back to you. "Wait, what? Are you serious?"

Charles shot up from his seat, wide-eyed. "You’re pregnant?"

A wave of relief washed over you at their reactions. For a moment, the anxiety that had been building inside you dissipated, replaced by the warmth of your brothers’ excitement.

"Yes, I’m serious," you said, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Arthur let out a breathy laugh, coming over to hug you tightly. "That’s amazing, Y/N! I can’t believe you didn’t tell us sooner."

Charles followed suit, wrapping his arms around both you and Arthur. "Yeah, how long have you been keeping this a secret?" He shot Ruben a mock glare. "You’ve been hiding this from us too, huh?"

"We wanted to wait until we were sure everything was okay," Ruben explained, his arm gently sliding around your waist. "It’s still early."

You could see the worry begin to creep into your brothers' faces, especially Charles’. He had always been the most protective, never liking the idea of you facing anything difficult alone.

"We’ll be here for you," Charles said, his voice firm, though his eyes softened when they met yours. "Whatever you need."

Just as you were about to respond, a sharp pain shot through your lower abdomen, cutting off your words. You gasped, instinctively placing a hand on your stomach.

Ruben’s eyes were on you immediately, his expression shifting from joy to concern in an instant. "Y/N? Are you alright?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but another wave of pain hit, stronger this time. Your knees buckled slightly, and you clutched Ruben’s arm for support.

"Y/N, what’s wrong?" Charles asked, his voice rising with panic. Arthur was right beside him, both of them looking at you with wide, anxious eyes.

You tried to force a smile, but the pain was overwhelming. "It’s… it’s nothing. I’m fine," you lied, knowing it was futile. You could feel something wasn’t right.

Ruben’s face was pale, his hand moving to gently hold your stomach. "You’re not fine. What’s going on?"

Tears welled in your eyes as the fear you had been suppressing for so long surfaced. The pain was too familiar. You couldn’t ignore it anymore. Your heart pounded in your chest as the words you’d been dreading slipped out.

"I don’t want to lose this baby too," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

The room went still.

Charles and Arthur both froze, their expressions shifting from confusion to shock.

"What do you mean ‘too’?" Arthur asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hadn’t wanted to tell them. You had promised yourself you’d keep that part of your past hidden, not wanting to burden your brothers with the pain you and Ruben had gone through. But now… now there was no hiding it.

"I lost a baby last year," you admitted, your voice shaking. "I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry."

Charles’ face drained of color, his hands shaking slightly as he stared at you, speechless. Arthur looked equally stunned, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process what you’d just said.

"You… you lost a baby?" Charles whispered, his eyes filling with a mix of hurt and disbelief. "Why didn’t you tell us?"

Tears streamed down your face now as you shook your head. "I didn’t want to put that on you. You both have so much going on, and I didn’t want to make things harder."

Arthur’s face crumpled with emotion, his voice breaking. "Y/N, you’re our sister. You could never be a burden to us. We should’ve been there for you."

Before you could respond, a new wave of pain tore through you, and you felt something warm and wet between your legs. Panic seized your chest as you looked down, seeing a small trickle of blood.

"Ruben…" Your voice trembled as you clutched his arm tightly. "I think I’m bleeding."

Ruben’s face went pale, his eyes widening in horror. He didn’t waste a second before pulling out his phone and dialing for an ambulance, his voice urgent as he gave them the details.

Charles and Arthur were by your side in an instant, their panic palpable.

"You’re going to be okay," Arthur said, his voice shaky but determined. "We’re going to get you to the hospital."

Charles was pacing now, his hands shaking as he ran them through his hair. "This can’t be happening. Ruben, is she going to be okay?"

Ruben didn’t answer, his jaw clenched tightly as he held you close, his fingers trembling slightly as he stroked your hair.

Within minutes, the ambulance arrived, and you were rushed to the hospital. The entire ride, you clung to Ruben’s hand, your mind swirling with fear. You couldn’t lose this baby. Not again.

When you arrived at the hospital, the doctors moved quickly, assessing the situation. Ruben stayed close, refusing to leave your side for even a second.

Charles and Arthur sat in the waiting room, their expressions haunted as they waited for news, guilt and worry etched across their faces.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor came out. "She’s stable for now. We’ll continue monitoring closely, but the baby is still viable."

The relief was overwhelming, but the fear lingered in all of you. This wasn’t over yet. But as you lay in the hospital bed, Ruben by your side, you knew that no matter what happened, you weren’t alone.