#jb7 x reader

The night was still pouring warmly over Dortmund, and the balcony of Jobe's apartment seemed suspended in the air, accomplice of a forbidden and sweet secret. The table was already marked by the raw movements of before, the smell of sex mixed with that of spilled wine, the breathing still heavy in both. But you didn't seem satisfied to stop there, the brightness in your eyes denounced that you wanted more, you wanted to prolong that promise of eternity with something that was only yours, done calmly, but still incendiary.

You slipped from his lap, still panting, and walked barefoot until you took the almost empty wine bottle, filling two glasses with the unpretentious gesture of someone who had already decided the next step. Jobe watched you, sitting on the balcony chair, your naked body shining with sweat, his cock still hard, resting only for seconds. Your way, on your back, the crumpled red dress falling from your shoulders, the skin marked by his hands, made his blood boil again.

You turned slowly, bringing one of the cups, and handed it to him with a malicious smile, before leaning on his lap, sitting on his strong thighs as if it were your natural throne.

-You haven't finished yet, right, honey?

You provoked, your voice low, dragged by the accent.

He raised his glass, his dark eyes fixed on you, and took a sip slowly, savouring the wine while feeling the heat of your pussy settling against his cock.

-Not even close to that...

He replied, hoarsely, the lazy smile denouncing how much he was about to get lost again.

You held his base with your delicate hand, slowly guiding the tip against you, rubbing first, wetting it even more with your moisture, until they both gasped in unison. Only then did you go down slowly, sitting on him for real, the body opening centimetre by centimetre, the moans escaping in the rhythm of penetration.

-Oh my God...- the moan escaped dragged, your head tipping back, your breasts rising and falling as you swallowed it all.- Fuck!

The boy squeezed your thigh hard, but he didn't hurry at all. He took the glass of wine to his mouth again, drinking while watching, fascinated, you settle completely on his dick, your hips going down until he was buried until the end.

-What a view, my love, you're a delight... -He murmured, panting, his eyes devouring every detail: the dress down, the beaks of the hard breasts, the belly contracted with the effort. -There's nothing more beautiful or better than that to get as a gift today.

You began to move, first slow, savouring, your hip spinning in an intimate ballet that made his cock throb inside. He drank another sip, his mouth stained with wine, while the other hand slid down your body, holding your waist tightly, sometimes going up to his breast, squeezing, twisting his nipple between his fingers, pulling out your loudest moans.

-Oh... Jobe... so deep, huh?

You rolled slowly, the wet sound of your bodies filling the night, each descent pulling out of him a deep moan, a hoarse sigh.

He dropped the glass, leaving it on the table, and grabbed your hips with both big hands, guiding the rhythm, but still keeping it slow, almost reverent. His organ went in and out with soft, wet pops, and you looked at him with half-closed eyes, your mouth ajar, completely surrendered.

-Look how you sit on me. -He whispered, sliding his hand to your clitoris, rubbing in firm circles while making you sit down again. -What a beautiful thing, my darling...

You moaned louder, your whole body shaking, your hip accelerating involuntarily. His vision of you riding on him, your dishevelled hair swaying, the brightness of sweat illuminated by the city light, it was like a perfect erotic painting. Jobe didn't know whether to look at your face, contorted with pleasure, or at the way the cock disappeared inside you with every movement.

-Just like that, babe, keep going! - You put your hands on his chest, ridding faster now, every beat making the sound of skin against skin echo on the balcony. -I'm going... I'm going to cum again...

He pulled your right breast to his mouth, sucking hard, biting until you screamed, and at the same time rubbed your clitoris mercilessly.

-Shout, Y/n... let all of Germany listen...

He snored against your skin, his cock stocking deep, your hips going down without stopping.

Your scream exploded when you came, your whole body contracting, squeezing him inside in an almost painful way, pulling out of him deep, hoarse moans, while struggling on top of him.

The younger Bellingham held you tightly, his hips cracking against yours, and soon came too, gushing hot, deep, the wine still burning in the mouth, but nothing compared to the heat of the cum inside you.

Both were glued, panting, you lying against his shoulder, sweaty, laughing softly, your hip still shaking with the final spasms. He took the glass once again, drank the last sip of wine and ran his stained lips down his neck, muttering.

- I don't know if it was the wine, you or the birthday party... but I've never tasted anything so good.

You laughed, tired, your fingers drawing lazy circles on his chest.

-Definitely, it was me.

Jobe had never been the nervous type for a game. Since he was little, he always knew that soccer was his place, that being on the field was natural for him. But on that specific summer night, when he was in the Sunderland locker room getting ready to enter the field, he felt something different. A chill in the stomach that had nothing to do with the pressure of the game and everything to do with the possibility of seeing a specific person in the stands.

You.

He had invited, of course, but without high expectations. Until then, what you had was something undefined. He liked you. A lot. But at the same time, you always seemed to keep a certain distance, a barrier between you that Jobe was still not sure how to overcome. Inviting you to one of your games was a way to try to see how far you would go. But he never expected you to really accept.

When he stepped on the lawn for the heating, he disguised as much as he could, but his eyes were restless, automatically looking for the stands, trying to find any sign of you. The stadium was gigantic, full of excited fans, and he was already convincing himself that you hadn't come when, suddenly, something familiar caught his attention.

Near the lawn, not so far from the reserve bank, there you were.

Wearing a jacket that he was almost sure wasn't yours, probably from a friend or borrowed by someone from the club, with your hair down and a serene expression, as if it were just another normal event. But Jobe knew it wasn't. For you to be there, something had changed.

For a moment, he was stuck. He felt something hot rise to his chest, a mixture of surprise and happiness. You really came.

A push on the shoulder brought him back to reality.

-What's up, bro?

One of the teammates asked, realising his gaze fixed.

Shirt 7 blinked, disguising the smile that threatened to appear.

-Nothing, nothing...

But that was all.

The warm-up continued, and he forced himself to focus on the game. However, before returning to the locker room for the last conversation with the coach, he looked one last time in his direction.

And you were looking back.

It was fast, but enough for him to see the little smile you sketched before looking away.

The game had been intense, but Jobe almost didn't feel the time pass. His body was exhausted, his muscles burning from the effort, his shirt glued to his skin by sweat, but none of it mattered. Not when, in the back of your mind, a single thing throbbed strongly: you were there.

Throughout the game, he tried not to think too much about you, but whenever he could, between one move and another, his eyes instinctively ran to the side of the field, as if his body knew exactly where to look for it. You were still there, watching, present, and that made you feel different, almost invincible.

When the final whistle sounded, it still took him a few seconds to process everything. Sunderland had won, the fans vibrated, and the players hugged each other in celebration. But he couldn't hold on much to the team's euphoria. His eyes ran to the side of the lawn, and that's where he saw her once again.

You were still in the same place, now more visible, because some people had already begun to leave the stands. His gaze met his before he could even think about how to react. And then, you smiled.

It was a small, discreet, but real smile.

Jobe felt his chest heat up and looked away, swallowing drily. He didn't know exactly why it affected him so much, but he knew he needed to see her up close.

The locker room was a chaos of celebration, the teammates talking loudly, the music playing, but the boy hurried into the shower, changed his clothes anyway, and left before everyone else. His heart beat fast as he crossed the tunnel that gave access to the outside of the field, his eyes attentive to every face that passed. And then, he finally saw her up close that night.

You were leaning against one of the tunnel walls, with your arms crossed, as if you had all the time in the world. When he saw him approaching, he uncrossed his arms and fixed the jacket he was wearing, an unconscious habit that he had already noticed in you.

Jobe slowed down his steps when he got close, stopping a few centimetres from you. His hair was still wet from the hurried bath, a few drops running down the back of his neck, and his breathing was still a little accelerated.

-You came.

His voice came out lower than I expected.

You smiled from the corner.

-Of course I came. I wasn't going to miss it.

Jobe let out a low laugh and shook his head, trying to process that. He wanted to ask so many things, he wanted to know what had made you accept the invitation, he wanted to understand if it meant something. But, at the same time, I just wanted to enjoy that moment.

-Did you like the game?

He asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

-It was amazing. -You answered, sincere. -You played very well.

He felt his chest inflate with pride, and, without thinking too much, took another step towards you.

-Good to know that I impressed you.

You let out a chuckle, tilting your head back to take a better look at him.

-Don't get excited, Bellingham.

He laughed, and then, before he could control himself, he raised his hand and gently touched your face, his thumb brushing against the hot skin of your cheek. You were slightly tense for a second, surprised, but you didn't back down. In fact, his eyes shone a little more under the dim lighting of the tunnel.

-I'm very happy you came., Y/n.

He admitted, his voice is lower and hoarse now.

-I know, Jobe. But I'm happier for being here with you.

You murmured, and then, without warning, leaned in his direction.

The kiss happened without haste, without the euphoria of a first desperate touch, but with the certainty that that moment was happening at the right time. Jobe's lips were still a little warm from the intensity of the game, and yours were soft, curious, moulding to hin in a way that made his heart speed up more than any race on the field.

For a moment, the world disappeared. The tunnel, the distant noise of the players still celebrating, the fans who began to empty the stadium. Nothing mattered except that kiss and the certainty that something between you had changed forever.

Hi, I'm opening the question box for requests again, if you want to ask for any, feel free!

1. King of well-planned surprises

Jobe loves to surprise you, but he doesn't do it in an obvious or cliché way. Instead of flowers at the door of the house, he books a private cooking class because he knows you casually commented on learning how to make typical food from somewhere. He listens to the small details and transforms them into big gestures. And the best? He gets a shy smile, a little embarrassed, waiting for your reaction, as if he didn't know he got it right.

2. He memorises your favourite playlist

Jobe knows all the songs you love. He has a playlist on Spotify called "For Y/n" and whenever he hears a song that reminds you, he adds it. The cutest thing is that sometimes he plays when you're in the car, just to see you sing. And of course, when they are separated, he sends a song from the list with a "I remembered you."

3. He's a great cook (but only for you)

Despite being a disaster in the kitchen when he's alone, Jobe makes a real effort when it's for you. He learns basic recipes and ventures with more elaborate dishes just because he knows you like them. It's always an event: he puts on music, tries to follow recipes on YouTube, and in the end, the kitchen is a mess. But he compensates by putting the food on the table with a proud smile, waiting for your compliment.

4. He is the best listener in the world

Jobe has a special talent for hearing you talk about absolutely anything. If you're talking about a book, about the new series you watched, or even about something you read in an academic article, he pays attention with genuine interest. He asks questions, gives opinions, and you feel like the most important person in the world.

5. He's absurdly affectionate in public

He's not afraid to show how much he loves you in public. Whenever you are walking together, he holds your hand, gives quick kisses on tour forehead or wraps you with his big arm when it's cold. He doesn't care if there are paparazzi around or if someone is watching - he just wants you to know that he is there, on your side, always.

6. He's the type who solves fights calmly (and hugs)

Jobe hates fights and discord, especially with you. He is the one who tries to solve everything calmly and by talking. Even when he is angry, he takes a deep breath, tries to listen to his side and speaks carefully. If he feels that the discussion is too heavy, he interrupts and says: "Let's breathe and talk about it later, I don't want to hurt you." And, of course, he never lets you sleep upset - he always ends the night with an apology or a tight hug.

7. He is super protective, but not in a possessive way

He is the kind of boyfriend who ensures that you feel safe all the time. It is protective in a subtle way - like being careful when they are in crowded places, holding your hand so they don't get lost, or checking the car before a trip. He is never possessive, but everyone knows that you are the love of his life.

8. He encourages your dreams (and remembers the details)

Jobe not only believes in your dreams, but also makes a point of being the greatest supporter. If you have a new project, he is the first to ask how he can help. He also remembers the smallest details, like when you mentioned that you wanted to go back to practising something, and sent cute messages before the first day saying how proud you were.

9. He is very organised, except when he is in love

Most of the time, Jove is super organised: the closet is tidy, the schedules are in place and he follows an impeccable routine. But when he's with you, it all falls apart. He forgets his socks on the couch because they were watching a movie together or leaves the bed untidy because he preferred to sleep a little more to the solo. He always says that you are the only thing that messes up his life - in a good way.

10. He's unbearably cute when he's jealous

It was a warm summer night in Sunderland, and the city seemed to sigh with the heat. You were sitting on the couch in Jobe’s apartment, the lights in the living room low, creating a quiet and intimate atmosphere. You were wearing short cotton shorts and an old t-shirt that you had stolen from your boyfriend years ago, but that still held his scent.

Jobe had just gotten out of the shower, a towel hanging over his shoulders as he walked around the apartment, barefoot, with the black t-shirt tight, outlining the muscles of his torso. He was casual, but somehow he seemed even more irresistible like that. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, trying to hide the smile that insisted on appearing on your face.

He grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen, but noticed your gaze and arched an eyebrow.

—Why are you looking at me?

He asked, with that crooked smile that left you speechless.

You shrugged, trying to appear indifferent.

—I’m just thinking about how handsome you are. Like, annoying handsome.

Jobe laughed, approaching with slow, provocative steps. He bent down, getting to your eye level, still holding the bottle.

—Handsome? Just handsome?

He teased, his voice husky enough to make your stomach knot.

You rolled your eyes, but the sparkle in them gave you away.

—Okay, very handsome. Like, young, tall, charming…

—Ah, now it’s starting to sound better. —Jobe joked, leaning his weight on the arm of the couch, holding you in place. —Go on.

You laughed, pushing him lightly on the chest, but not too hard.

—Okay, that’s enough. I don’t want to inflate your ego.

—Too late, babe.

He smiled, leaning in to leave a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth.

You closed your eyes for a moment, absorbing that moment. When you opened them, Jobe was still there, looking at you in a way that made everything around you disappear.

—What are you thinking now?

He asked, his tone softer this time.

You bit your lip, feeling your heart race.

—That maybe I should hold you hostage.

You joked, but the intent in your eyes was anything but innocent.

Jobe laughed, but there was something in his eyes that showed he was taking the idea seriously.

—Hold you hostage, huh? —He raised an eyebrow. —And what would you do to me, exactly?

You tilted your head, your hand slowly moving up his chest, feeling the heat through his thin shirt.

—I don’t know yet… But I think I would have some ideas, darling.

—Really? —He challenged, his voice deeper now, his eyes fixed on yours. He placed the bottle of water on the table next to you and used his free hand to gently hold your chin, keeping you in place. —I want to hear them all. And maybe even put them into practice.

You smiled but didn’t respond, leaning in to close the distance between you. Your lips met in a kiss that started slow but quickly deepened, the intensity growing like the summer heat outside. Jode’s hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer as you moved onto his lap, fitting perfectly. The heat surrounding you was almost unbearable now, but neither of you seemed to care. In that moment, the whole world could wait.

His hands slid around your waist with a familiarity that made your heart race. Sitting on his lap, your legs intertwined, you felt every movement, every heavy breath against your own body. Your kiss, which had started as a tease, was now something more intense, full of desire and a kind of need that only grew.

—Do you have any idea how impossible it is to say no to you, Y/n?

Jobe murmured against your lips, his voice husky and low, enough to make your skin crawl.

You smiled, your eyes shining as you ran your hands through his still damp hair.

—Oh, I know. And I love it.

He laughed, that deep sound that made the heat in the room seem to double in intensity. Jobe tilted his head to kiss your neck, leaving a trail of light kisses that made you sigh and squeeze his shoulders.

—You're so...

He started, but stopped, his hand going up to the back of your neck, his fingers intertwining in your hair.

—So what?

You teased, your voice a little breathless.

—Irresistible, babe. Irresistible.

He finally answered, before pulling you in for another kiss, a little more possessive this time.

You felt your body heat up even more with the word and the way he looked at you, as if you were the only person in the world. The heat between you was almost tangible, each touch and each kiss seemed to carry the weight of all the times you had held each other, of all the unsaid words, of all the love you shared.

You slid your hands down his arms, feeling the muscles beneath his skin. He was strong, but at the same time, there was a tenderness in the way he held you, as if you were both something precious and something he couldn't live without.

—Did you know I planned on behaving today?

You teased, smiling against his lips.

—Oh, I know. —Jobe replied, with that crooked smile that made your heart melt. —But clearly, I wasn’t in on the plan.

You both laughed, but the laughter soon turned into sighs as the youngest Bellingham slowly laid you down on the couch, keeping his weight on his elbows so as not to crush you. You felt the fabric of your shirt fold under his hands as he explored every inch of your body, as if it were the first time, as if each touch was a rediscovery.

You bit your lip, feeling your breath and his mix. The world around you seemed to disappear. Nothing but the heat, the touch and the sound of heavy breathing seemed to matter.

—You know… —He began, his voice deep and slow. —That I would do anything for you, don’t you?

You felt your heart clench in a good way, as if his words were the answer to something you didn’t even know you were looking for.

—I know. —You answered, pulling him closer. —And I would do the same for you, babe.