𝒮

Featuring: Jobe Bellingham x situationship!reader

Summary: Jobe invited you to an important restaurant for a high profile dinner he had to attend. He needed a plus one, and you were his first pick. PT2

A/N : thank you guys so much for 52 followers and all the likes I've been getting lately! I hope you like this ending because I almost forgot to update.

You knew Jobe had seen your text because as soon as you reached your apartment, your phone was ringing. Deciding between answering or hanging up, you just let it ring as you made your way up.

It was only 10:30.

You barely got to enjoy yourself as you decided to leave early, which felt like a mistake now. Instead of letting your feelings get the best of you, you could’ve continued talking to Vanessa or found another guy to talk to.

But deep down, you knew all you wanted to do was talk to Jobe.

Changing into your pajamas after your shower, you sat on the couch and scrolled through the channels on the TV.

After finally settling on one show, you let it play, but you barely paid attention to it.

All you thought about was Jobe and that girl. Surely he would’ve told you if there was another girl or not, but you guys weren't dating. You just never knew what to expect with him sometimes.

As you dwelled on your thoughts, two knocks on your door became apparent.

You ignored them at first, hugging your knees tighter to your chest, not wanting to deal with anyone.

But a few seconds later, the person knocked again, louder this time.

"Y/N, open the door," the voice spoke. It was Jobe, sounding out of breath.

Sighing, you slowly got up from the couch and unlocked it.

Opening the door just a crack, you were met with Jobe.

His tie was loosened, and he looked slightly disheveled compared to how perfect he looked earlier at the venue.

"Uh, yes?" you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jobe looked at you with genuine confusion. "Why did you leave all of a sudden? You texted me and just vanished."

You let out a bitter, forced laugh, feeling a fresh wave of hurt sting your throat. "Why did I leave? You really have to ask me that, Jobe?"

After his question, Jobe’s eyes searched your features, his expression shifting the moment he saw your tear-stained face. The confusion faded, replaced by immediate worry.

"Were you crying?" he asked softly, stepping closer.

Ignoring his question, you spoke, your voice cracking as the words tumbled out.

"Why invite me to go with you if you were just going to let some girl be all over you? I stood there waiting for you to push her off, but you didn't.

I heard what people were saying about me in the bathroom, Jobe. They said I didn't belong there. And seeing you with her... it made me feel like I was just a joke to you."

Jobe looked at you, the realization finally hitting him. He took a step forward, his voice dropping.

"Y/N, that was Amelia. She’s my ex," he explained quickly. "I promise she’s nothing more. I pushed her off once I realized what she was doing."

You looked away, shaking your head. "Sure didn’t seem like it."

"What did you expect me to do, Y/N?" Jobe snapped, his frustration slipping out as he got caught up in the moment.

"Shove her off me in front of everyone?" He let out a stressed breath, saying the exact wrong thing before he could stop himself.

"We are just friends; why does it matter so much?"

You blinked, staring up at him as the words hit you. "Just friends?"

Is that really all you were to him? After everything you two had been through, you were just friends?

"That’s how you feel? Just friends, my ass," the hurt turning into instant anger. "Okay, then get out. You made it clear where we stand, and I was just being overdramatic, I guess."

Before he could even speak, you shut the door right in his face.

You locked it, walking back into the living room.

The anger drained out just as fast as it came, leaving you feeling completely exhausted and empty as you sat back down on the couch.

A few weeks later, it was Jobe’s game today.

As much as you wanted to stick to your words, you still went to support him. You had never missed any of his games before, and breaking your streak now just didn't feel right

. Even if you were telling yourself it was just for the streak, deep down, you knew you wanted to be there to support him.

Walking into the section you usually sat at, you spotted his family: his mom, dad, and his brother. Denise noticed you first, her face instantly lighting up.

"Y/N! How nice it is to see you," she said warmly, opening her arms for a hug. "You haven't been around the house lately. Is everything okay?"

You went over to greet Mark and Jude with a quick hello before sitting down right beside her. "Oh, I'm fine. I've just been busy with work and stuff," you trailed off, half lying but also telling the truth.

You had never kept anything away from Denise before, but at the same time, you didn't know if she was even aware that Jobe had basically friend-zoned you.

You gave her a small smile, one that didn't quite reach your eyes.

She nodded gently and looked ahead at the pitch, though you could tell she knew something was up.

Jude decided to put his two cents in, leaning over with a smirk. "So, what's going on with you and Jobe? He finally asked you to be his girlfriend?"

You froze at the question, your breath catching in your throat. "Uh, no... we kind of aren't talking."

Jude's face shifted.

"Oh"

Mark spoke up, nodding as he looked down at the pitch. "That must explain why he's been acting so weird lately," he shrugged.

Looking down at the pitch, you could see how intense the game was getting.

Halfway through the first half, one of Jobe's teammates went in for a hard challenge, and the referee blew the whistle, pulling a yellow card out of his pocket.

During the brief pause, Jobe let out a frustrated breath, looking up at the stands as he walked it off, doing his usual scan to find his family. But as his eyes swept over the rows, he stopped dead in his tracks.

He spotted you.

He clearly had not expected you to show up. His eyes locked onto yours, staring up at you for a long, heavy moment.

He completely froze, ignoring the rest of the players around him, until one of his teammates jogged past and shoved his shoulder, snapping him back into the game

The game had ended, and Borussia Dortmund had taken the win. Jobe eventually came out to the player lounge, and everyone instantly crowded around to congratulate him.

It was clearly awkward between the two of you, but you forced a tight smile, trying your best not to let anyone see the tension.

You wrapped your coat around yourself, preparing to make an exit. "Well, I should probably get going—"

"Oh, Y/N, you should totally come back with us for dinner!" Denise spoke up, stopping you in your tracks.

"Oh, no, thank you," you said quickly, waving your hands. "I wouldn't want to ruin—"

"You won't ruin anything," Denise cut you off, completely dismissing your excuse. "You're practically family. Come on."

You chewed the inside of your cheek, debating it. You really did not want to be around Jobe right now.

But on the other hand, Denise's food was always amazing, and you weren't about to decline a home-cooked meal just to go back to your apartment and eat leftovers.

"Alright," you murmured. "If you're sure."

Nodding along, you grabbed your bags and followed the family out to the parking lot.

But the moment you opened the car door, your stomach dropped. Just your luck, the only open spot was right next to Jobe in the backseat.

You slid in, pulling your bag onto your lap to create a barrier between you two.

As the car pulled out, you looked up and caught Jude’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He was staring back at you with a smug smirk.

He had definitely planned this. That sneaky bastard.

"Comfortable back there, mate?" Jude asked Jobe loudly, his smirk widening.

Jobe didn't answer, just shifting uncomfortably against the leather seat, his shoulder brushing against yours.

The silence between the two of you in the back was incredibly loud.

The drive to the house was quiet, the heavy silence in the backseat only broken by Jude occasionally turning around to talk with you or Jobe. Once the car finally pulled into the driveway, you quickly hopped out.

Inside, the familiar, comforting scent of Denise’s cooking immediately filled the air.

Jobe mumbled something about needing a shower to wash off the match and headed upstairs.

You stayed in the kitchen, offering to help Denise prep the counters just to keep your hands busy.

She and Mark had basically cooked up most of the food, so it wasn't much for you to do, but it was the least you could contribute.

About thirty minutes later, the heavy thud of footsteps echoed on the stairs.

Jobe walked back into the kitchen, looking relaxed in a clean gray hoodie and sweatpants, his damp hair curling slightly at the ends.

The moment he stepped into the room,

Denise wiped her hands on a dish towel and pointed at the dining room. "Perfect timing, Jobe. You and Y/N are on kitchen duty. Go set the table and get the drinks ready while I finish up the main course."

You blinked, freezing with a stack of napkins in your hand. "Oh, Denise, it's fine, I can just—"

"No arguments," Denise smiled easily, already turning her back to stir a pot on the stove. "Go on, you two." Her plan was to get you two talking so it wouldn't be awkward.

Jobe cleared his throat, his eyes flicking to you before he walked over to the cupboard to grab the glasses. "I'll get the drinks," he murmured, his voice rough.

You silently grabbed the plates, following him into the dining room. The tension from the car ride rushed right back, making the simple task of laying out the silverware feel incredibly intense.

You kept your eyes fixed on the tablecloth, trying to move as fast as possible so you could escape back to the living room.

Jobe set the glasses down with a quiet clink. He stood on the opposite side of the table, watching your hands move. "Y/N," he said softly, breaking the silence.

Jobe walked around the table, his footsteps quiet against the floor until he was standing right in front of you.

You kept your eyes locked on the plates, ignoring his presence until he reached out and gently took them from your hands, setting them down on the table behind him.

Without the plates to distract you, you finally looked up.

For the first time since everything went down weeks ago, you fully engaged in eye contact with him.

"Look, I wanted to apologize for what I said," Jobe began, his voice dropping low.

"It was completely out of line and inconsiderate of me. I was stressed about the business side of the dinner, but that's no excuse for how I acted, or for not acknowledging you the way I should have. I let the pressure get to me, and I took it out on you."

You swallowed hard, looking down at his chest before meeting his eyes again. "I'm sorry too. I overreacted and didn't give you any time to explain yourself before I just stormed out and slammed the door on you."

Jobe shook his head, taking a small step closer.

"You didn't overreact. You had every right to be mad. Especially after what I said." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking completely vulnerable.

"When I said we were just friends... I only said it because I was caught up in the moment and trying to defend how I handled Amelia. But it was a lie. I don't just see you as a friend, Y/N. I haven't in a really long time."

Your chest tightened, the last of the anger completely melting away as you looked up at him. "Really?"

"Really," Jobe murmured. He reached out, his hands gently resting on your waist as he guided you just a fraction closer. "You're the only one I want."

You both slowly leaned in, the weeks of heavy silence and distance finally disappearing as your lips were just inches apart. You closed your eyes, ready for the kiss—

"Alright, lovebirds, wrap it up! Some of us are starving out here!"

You both snapped your heads around to the doorway. Jude was leaning against the frame, a massive, teasing smirk plastered across his face.

"Jude, get out!" Jobe snapped, his face instantly turning red as he threw a rolled-up cloth napkin directly at his brother's head.

Jude caught it easily, laughing as he backed out of the room. "Just saying! Mum's taking the food out of the oven! Perfect timing!"

Jobe let out a stressed breath, rolling his eyes before looking back down at you. A small, genuine smile finally broke across his face, his hands tightening playfully on your waist. "Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?" Leaning in, closing the gap between you two.

tags : @rinitoshis-stuff @kittynju @deadpool15 @stellaforstar @ajijakey

Featuring : Jobe Bellingham x situationship!reader

Summary : Jobe invited you to an important restaurant for a high profile dinner he had to attend. He needed a plus one, and you were his first pick.

A/N : I originally wanted to make angst, but I scrapped that. So i'll just make part 2 to this.

You stood in your room, looking at the options laid out across your bed. You desperately wanted to make a good first impression on everyone attending, especially since you knew there would be cameras flashing outside the venue.

After a few tense minutes of debating, you finally decided to pick out a nice, sleek red dress that hugged your curves perfectly.

Your curls tumbled down effortlessly, and your makeup actually came out really well, boosting your confidence.

Jobe had insisted on picking you up instead of letting you drive there yourself.

Once you were in the passenger seat, you both at in a comfortable silence, the quiet hum of the car filling the space between you. Jobe suddenly cleared his throat.

"You look nice," he spoke, guiding half his attention to you for a brief moment before turning his eyes back to the road.

You smiled warmly, looking out the window. "Thanks"

Shortly after, you guys arrived at the venue. As you expected, lines of paparazzi and flashing cameras flanked the entranced. You didn't mind the attention at all, though, because you knew you looked good tonight.

As Jobe wrapped a hand around your waist and guided you both inside, your jaw nearly dropped. You were completely in awe. The place was massive and so meticulously curated.

You weren't used to going to such grand events, so seeing a room this magnificent was truly amazing. Jobe squeezed your hip gently as you both stepped further into the crowd.

Jobe introduced you to a few people before excusing himself, explaining that he had to go speak with someone else for business.

You had been incredibly nervous, but the people he left you with were surprisingly easy to talk to.

They weren't stuck-up or intimidating at all, which was a huge relief. One girl in the group, Vanessa, and you hit it off immediately. You ended up talking for almost half the night.

But as time went on, you realized you hadn’t seen a single glimpse of Jobe in the crowd.

"Please excuse me for a moment, Vanessa," you said with a polite smile. "I'm going to head to the restroom, and then I should probably go track down Jobe."

"Of course! Go find him," she replied warmly.

You walked away from the grand ballroom and slipped into the luxurious, marble-tiled restroom. After entering a stall, the heavy outer door creaked open, and the sharp click of high heels echoed against the walls.

Two women walked in, their voices bouncing off the mirrors.

"Yeah, I just saw Jobe out there," one of the girls said, her voice dripping with familiarity. "It's been way too long. God, he looks even better than the last time I saw him." 

She talked about how she hadn't seen him in a while, and there was a certain beauty in the way she spoke about him, hinting they had a history. It made your chest tighten instantly.

"Did you see the girl he brought in, though?" the same girl continued, letting out a sharp, condescending chuckle.

"The red dress is a choice, but please. She doesn't even compare to what he's used to. She looks entirely out of her depth in a place like this."

The other girl laughed along with her, a cruel, mocking sound. You stood frozen in the stall, your heart hammering against your ribs.

After a few agonizing seconds, they touched up their makeup, threw their paper towels in the trash, and walked out of the bathroom.

Once the door clicked shut, you finally stepped out of the stall. Your hands were shaking slightly, but you forced yourself to walk over to the sink, turning on the cold water to wash your hands.

Looking at your reflection, you took a deep breath. Your makeup was still flawless, your curls were perfect, and that red dress still looked stunning.

You weren't going to let some bitter stranger ruin your night.

You eventually spotted Jobe across the crowded room, but he wasn't alone. He was talking to a girl, undoubtedly the very same woman whose condescending voice you had just overheard in the bathroom stall.

Your mind immediately went into overdrive, but you desperately tried to rationalize the situation.

You thought he was supposed to be talking to someone for business tonight.

You gave him the benefit of the doubt, telling yourself that his professional meeting had simply wrapped up and she had just walked over to chat.

Before you could take a single step forward, the woman moved. Right in front of the entire room, she confidently wrapped her arms around Jobe, pulling herself tightly against his chest.

Your breath caught in your throat. You waited for him to step back, to politely extricate himself, or to look around for you.

But Jobe didn't push her off.

He just stood there, letting her hold him, completely shattering the comfortable confidence you had walked out of the bathroom with.

The woman looked over Jobe's shoulder, locking eyes with you, and flashed a smug smirk.

A heavy wave of jealousy and betrayal instantly washed over you. Was Jobe just toying with you this whole time?

Why even invite you to such an important event as his plus-one if he was just going to ignore you and let another woman throw herself all over him?

Done with his bullshit, you turned on your heel and decided to leave. The sharp click of your heels echoed against the marble floor, sounding louder and louder with every step that took you farther away from him.

You blew past the grand exit, ignoring the flashing cameras, and kept walking until the bright lights of the venue faded into the distance.

Eventually, you found a quiet, secluded spot by a park path that you had noticed on the drive over.

Your feet were absolutely throbbing; the sleek heels were beginning to blister your skin.

Sinking onto a cold stone bench, you unlaced the straps with trembling fingers and slipped the shoes off.

You sat there in your stunning red dress, bare feet floating above the pavement, staring out at the dark, serene scenery in front of you as tears of anger and hurt finally threatened to spill over.

The tears finally spilled out of your eyes. You tried to blink them away, but you couldn't control your emotions anymore.

Sitting alone on that dark bench in a dress that had made you feel so beautiful just an hour ago, you felt completely pathetic to be crying over a boy.

You hated how much power he had over your feelings.

featuring : jobe bellingham x gf!reader 

summary : You and Jobe had just finished dinner and decided to take a stroll before heading back. You certainly didn't expect to run into a surprise on the way.

A/N: first time writing a fanfic on here, excited to see how this goes!!  i also forgot to give the kitten a name oopsy.

Jobe had decided to take you out on a date today since his training wrapped up earlier than expected. He was thrilled to have extra time to spend with his lovely girlfriend. When you guys arrived at the destination, a huge grin spread across your face,it was the exact cafe where you first met.

"Awww, babe," you cooed, looking up at him. Jobe smiled warmly, leaning down to press a sweet kiss against your cheek.

Sometime after dinner, exhaustion began to set in, and you both decided it was time to head home. Since you had walked to the cafe, you had to make the trek back on foot.

As you walked, a faint noise caught your attention. You brushed it off at first, but when you heard it again, you gently nudged Jobe.

"Jobe," you whispered.

He directed his attention to you. "Hmm?" he replied, his voice dipping into a low, raspy tone that instantly made you melt.

"Do you hear that?"

Jobe listened for a second. "Hear what?"

Right on cue, the noise came again.

"That," you said. Jobe nodded, finally hearing it too.

You began looking around, tracing the sound to a stray box on the sidewalk. As you both walked closer to it, you suddenly froze in your tracks. Jobe looked at you, thoroughly confused. "What are you doing? Why did you stop?"

"Because I don't want to touch the box," you admitted honestly. "What if something jumps out or attacks me? You should do it."

Jobe looked at you, raising an eyebrow. "Why me?"

"Because I would like you to," you reasoned, giving him your best look. "Now, would you do it?"

Jobe sighed but stepped forward, gently kicking the box over with his foot. The cardboard tipped back to reveal a tiny, wide-eyed kitten.

Immediately at the sight, you completely gushed. "Omg, you are so cute! Jobe, look!"

Jobe shrugged, nodding slowly. "It looks nice, I guess."

You whipped your head around to look at him. "'It'?"

"I mean, we don't know the gender, so yeah, it," Jobe replied with another shrug.

Rolling your eyes at him, you scooped your hands together. "We should totally keep him... or her."

"No, we shouldn't," Jobe countered quickly.

"Why?"

"Because we have no space for 'it,'" Jobe spoke, gesturing directly toward the kitten. "And we don't have any of the supplies it needs."

You pouted, looking from the tiny kitten up to Jobe, deploying your absolute best puppy dog eyes. "Jobe, please? Look at how small it is. We can't just leave it out here in the cold. It won't survive the night."

"We can take it to a shelter tomorrow," Jobe reasoned, though his voice softened slightly as he looked at your pleading expression.

"The shelters are probably closed right now," you countered, stepping closer and gently scooping the shivering kitten into your arms. It was so small it fit perfectly in your hands, letting out a tiny, high-pitched mew.

You held it up toward him like an offering. "Just for tonight? We can buy a small bag of food. If we still feel like we can't handle it tomorrow, we'll figure something out. Please, babe?"

Jobe looked at the kitten, then at you, letting out a long, defeated sigh. He rubbed the back of his neck, a telltale sign that he was losing the battle. "Fine. Just for tonight. But tomorrow, we look for a shelter."

"Thank you!" you squealed, carefully leaning up to kiss his cheek while keeping the kitten safe against your chest.

Of course, "just for tonight" quickly turned into forever.

Over the next few weeks, Jobe’s strict boundaries slowly crumbled. At first, he insisted the kitten wasn't allowed on the bed or the couch. But within a month, the routine completely changed.

You would often walk into the living room after a long day to find Jobe stretched out on the sofa, fast asleep, with the now thriving kitten curled up directly on his chest, purring like a tiny engine.

Even his tough guy persona disappeared when they were alone. One afternoon, you overheard Jobe in the kitchen talking in a high pitched, gentle voice you had never heard him use before, saying, "Who's a good boy? Are you hungry?" when he thought you weren't listening.

Jobe went from complaining about buying a bag of food to researching the highest quality brands online. He even built a massive, multi level cat tree by hand.

Whenever you teased him about how much he loved the cat, Jobe would just brush it off , a tiny smirk playing on his lips as the kitten playfully batted at his shoelaces.