Hiii, can you please do a jobe bellingham fic where him and his girlfriend have been together for a little while now but he's keeping it a secret from everyone, but his family start to pick up on things like him smiling at his and finding girly stuff at him apartment etc and then one day they catch them together red handed
a.n: i love this idea so much i got so carried away :D
Jobe hadn’t exactly meant to fall in love as he moved back home for off season, really he’d just wanted to put his head down; get back in the gym and read books about life. Things his dad told him to do, the stuff that supposedly made you a real man.
He wouldn’t have even bumped into you if the neighbour, who had been 80 for his whole life, hadn’t asked if he could walk her dog. She’d knocked on the door of his parents’ house one morning, complaining about her back and how ‘Luna-bear’ was just too energetic.
“Ah! No worries love, Jobe will take her round for ya.” his dad had smiled, calling for him and sending him round.
And to his surprise he was met with a doberman, cropped ears and tail, panting in excitement next to the fragile, old woman Susan was. His face barely held together as a wave of shock struck him, though he took the rope of a lead and began walking down the block.
Jobe thought he was strong, surely he had to be. His head really was put down, discipline on point. He’d skip his own birthday if it meant he would’ve missed the gym. Though the dog was mad, dragging him down the path like he had places to be.
“What the fuck man!” he cursed, trying his best to tug back on the lead like he’d seen in those dog training tiktoks, ‘assert your dominance’ or whatever the fuck.
Though, lining along his luck, Luna-bear lurched forward, the rope burning across his palm causing him to let go. And as he clenched a fist in pain, the dog bolted down the street. “For fucks sake.” he cursed lowly, jogging after the dog before he had to buy flowers and apologise to Susan for letting the dog get hit by a fast moving vehicle.
“Ah! Who’s a good girl!” a voice sounded from the end of the street, allowing Jobes pace to slow as he watched.
A girl, crouched down next to the dog and patting its head. She wagged her tail, releasing small howls that the girl answered to with soft laughs, subconsciously wrapping the rope around her palm. “You’ve not knocked Susie over, have you?” he heard you ask the dog with furrowed brows like you expected an answer back.
“Nah, it’s my fault.” Jobe spoke up, clearing his throat as he stepped closer, only just catching a view of your face. And suddenly his mind blanked.
The sun hit your face just right, even as you stood up to greet him. Hair framing the artwork of a face you held. And your smile, fuck, he still thought about it. The small laugh you let out as you tilted your head and introduced yourself, handing the dog back over and offering to walk back to Susans with him.
And he’s never been so proud to admit he stuttered out a ‘yes’, because by the end of it he’d earned your number.
Turned out you also helped Susan with the dog numerous times, she was something like a distant family member to you — truly Jobe couldn’t remember what your exact words were because he could only stare as you both walked back.
And he saw you again the next time he visited his parents, the smell of his dads roast dinner wafting through the vents. Jobe had sat outside on the front door step, on facetime to Jude as he was still stuck in Madrid. But then you walked past.
Jobes words trailed off, eyes not flickering between the road and Jude like they, very nosily, had been, instead watching as you walked further across the pathway. Headphones plugged in and a neutral expression to your face like you were deep in thought or just had no reason to try cast an expression. And you looked so good doing it.
“You alright mate? Your time hasn’t come, ‘as it? The light that bright?” Jude joked, sipping a mug of coffe through the screen though Jobe remained fixated on you, especially when you looked up and made eye contact with him.
A smile graced your face at the sight of the man, pulling a headphone out of your ear and giving him a wave. “Hi Jobe!” you sung, not literally though Jobe could’ve sworn you were some angel with a harp.
He stuttered a wave back, a soft smile sitting on bis face with the tips of his ears turning red. “You alright?” he nodded, watching as you took one or two steps into the drive, almost like you were testing the waters of the threshold.
You nodded a few times, “Yeah! Great! Susans out tonight, she’s found herself a boyfriend or something so I’m house sitting… you could…” you started, words trailing off as your boldness vanished, a pink cast settling over your cheeks. Arguably stronger than Jobes ears. Though with the quirk of his brow, finger blindly finding the mute button on his phone, she continued. “Maybe you could come over if you’re not busy, hot chocolate on me. Or we could walk to the corner and get a chocolate bar or something... if that is something you wanna do.”
And disgustingly so, Jobe felt a sweet smile spread across his face, dimples poking out like they had something to prove. “Yea, I’ll come get a galaxy with you, love.” he teased with his own bright smile. You rolled your eyes, waving a temporary goodbye leaving Jobe smiling like a fucker before remembering he was on facetime.
“Who was that?” Jude prodded, brows furrowed deeply as his face was suddenly very close to the screen as though he’d been trying to lipread.
Jobe shrugged, wiping the smile he displayed — not so successfully. “Just Susan being… a character.”
And since the long night at Susans house, spent close on the sofa with one too many cans of coke and maybe a glass or two of wine from her cupboard. Majority of topics of conversation covered, even reaching vulnerable talk as two am neared — before sealing the night with a promise of a date.
The date went well, Jobe was gentlemanly. Pulled your chair out for you and pushed you back in. Made sure you were comfortable, read your order out for you, paid even with a generous tip on the side. Along with giving you a pound coin for those twisty machine, recieving a soft squishy in a plastic ball.
And he remembered your words, because amongst dinner you’d both mentioned what type of dates you each prefer, and you mentioned you would be more than happy with some cheesy, indoor date. Whether that be a movie or painting each other.
So you made your way into his space, picked a place on his sofa as you bonded over some shitty TV show that had aired more than ten years ago, almost unmoving from your place until you leant in.
And he only returned the favour. Hands cupping your face as he pulled you in, soft and slow like he was afraid he’d scare you away. But you only smiled into it.
Exchanges went on for round two and a half months before he asked you to be his girlfriend, showing up to your door with sorta squashed roses and a guilty smile. “I’m so sorry, I accidentally sat on them, but I think I managed to save them, and I’m gonna say this really quickly before I pussy out… but can I please be your boyfriend?”
You laughed softly at the sight of the crumpled flowers, taking the plastic bouquet into hand before looking at him with that forever soft look you held. “Yes Jobe, you can be my boyfriend.”
And it hadn’t exactly meant to become a secret, but Jobe couldn’t bear the thought of the constant teasing he’d receive from Jude or the questions from his mum — and on an even more truthful note, he liked having something to himself for once.
It seemed you always had to share everything in life, but this, the soft romance he’d manage to spring himself into? All his. You’re all his, he’s all yours.
And some part of when his dad caught him smiling made it all better. You’d sent him a cheesy text, something that he shouldn’t actually find funny but he could hear the way you’d say it.
“Who’s in there?” his dad asked, nodding to his phone as he looked up. An eyebrow raised, because Jobe was never the most expressive boy — towards any emotion at that.
Jobe shrugged, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “Just a friend.”
And he knew he wasn’t slick, because his dad had definitely relayed the information to Jude who had began to call him at random times in the day — always a facetime, always wanting to catch him in the act.
Then his mum came over to the flat he’d been renting as he was still yet to go back to Germany. The forever caring woman, she wanted to help him with housework, making sure the fridge was full. Though she began to talk, and began to hit the nail just a tad too close to the head.
“Jobe?” she asked, rearranging his small pantry, earning a hum from the boy who was texting away to you. “Have you seen that beautiful girl whose been helping Susan out? You should ask her for her number.” she mused, thankfully with her back to him as he could’ve sworn he almost shat himself.
“Nah… not seen her…” he trailed off, closing his phone and slowly placing it on the countertop as he watched his mum move throughout his kitchen. She took the laundry basket into his room, coming back out with a pink hairbrush in hand.
Fuck.
“Why do you have this?” she rose a brow, handing it back over to Jobe.
His mind racked ideas, excuses, the possibility of just telling her even though he had just lied to her fave about not knowing who you are. “Saw it in the shops; wanted to try it.” he shrugged, placing it on the countertop quite roughly — making himself flinch incase he broke your things.
“Jobe, that won’t work on my hair, let alone yours.” she tutted, going back to helping him with housework.
Then like clockwork, Jude came knocking on the door. No prior warning, still in his fixation of catching Jude out. Jobe was sure Jude didn’t know what secret he was looking for, instead just looking for one cus dad had said something.
“What you doing here?” Jobe laughed, bringing his brother into a hug, thanking every high power that you had just left his flat ten minutes ago.
Jude shrugged, eyes scanning the place. “Can’t come see my little brother now? I also know you don’t get pussy, surprised you ain’t lonely.” he laughed, kicking his trainers off only to be faced with slippers, an embroidered cat face on them.
Slowly, Jude faced Jobe who noticed the sight as well — forgetting to chuck them in the airing cupboard after you left. The small stains of you across his flat couldn’t be helped, because you had grown to become apart of his space more often than you weren’t — the luck he held with him within these home inspections from his family members was pure gold.
“You got something to tell me?” his older brother asked, a grin of a smile sat on his face like it was supposed to lure the truth from him.
Jobe turned towards the living room. “Got ordered to here on accident, opened them thinking it was for me, now tryna send them back.” he fabricated quickly, reaching down for the remote to switch the channel because you’d been watching some romcom and that was not him.
Lunch between the two of you had settled to become some type of game. Either a rummage through the cabinets to see what could be salvaged or creating your own recipe as you walked around the closest shop.
So after creating the routinely mess in the kitchen, you both sat on the couch. Homemade avocado and tomato paste pasta with mozerella metled over sat in a bowl, a scrunch on both of your faces as you settle over your first loss.
Then Jobes phone rang, and he pressed it to his ear. Pressing a finger to his lips at you before saying “Hi mum.”
You didn’t have an issue with the secrecy he played with, instead you found the joy of when Jobe would call, telling you about the close call or what item of yours his dad had found. Or even the other week, when there was one too many specs of glitter lined against his jumper and his mum had kept wiping it away with a questionable look.
“Housesit? Yea… could do that.” he nodded along, your ears perking up with a questionable tilt of your head before you fell against his chest.
His hand found its way to your hair, softly moving through the locks and always finding the one place that itches that slightest bit. “Yea… I’m good, you?… Okay, I’ll be over for five, love ya.”
And with that he hung up the line, looking down at you before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Mum and dads house is empty tonight, you fancy a housesit?”
Jobe drove the two of you over in pyjamas, ‘accidentally’ running late to avoid the clash of seeing each other. He told you he’d drive you back to yours before it could get too late to avoid any confrontation in the morning, so with a plan settled, the both of you settled.
He lay back on the couch; legs hooked over the back as he skimmed through what Netflix had to offer. You stood in the kitchen, eyeing all the photos lining the fridge, held up by magnets from all different destinations.
One stood out to you the most. Jobe and Jude in the same back garden, a ball between them both though they were both hundred over in contagious laughter. It looked ever so pure and candid, colours lining the garden with flowers and spring time bunting.
As your eyes skimmed the next picture, a large pair of arms slipped through yours to wrap around your waist, Jobes nose pressing into your neck as he observed the scene with you. “I was a propa ugly kid.” he mumbled, causing you to scoff and softly hit his hand.
“Liar, you were cute.”
“Were?”
“You are cute, always have been.” you grinned, turning in his arms to face him, your teeth pulling at your lip. A soft blush of course settled on his ears, saving himself from your eyes as he pulled you into a gentle kiss.
Which manovered to the kitchen counter, his hands lifting your thighs up to sit against the cool stone. Your hands slid to cup his jaw, encapsulated in the kiss as his hand pressed your thighs apart, thumb running soft circles into the flesh before he found your waistband.
And the night ended, not with you safely returned home — but instead deep asleep, in his arms, in an old tshirt he had found from his old room upstairs. He was melted into the sofa, limbs spread widely as you only curled ontop of him. A soft throw blanket draped over the two of you with daytime television playing.
His mum walked back in first, and she cooed at the sight of her youngest son asleep on the sofa, until she noticed a lump ontop of him. She stepped hesitantly closer, your face appearing in the early morning light, and a recognition flashed in her mind.
“Don’t know her?” she hushed a sharp whisper, pursing her lips as she turned to Mark who dropper their overnight bag on the floor. She pointed at the sight of the two tangled together.
Mark chuckled to himself lightly, instantly snapping a picture and sending it to their family groupchat for Jude to see and Jobe to wake up to.
Jude
I FUCKING KNEW IT
a.n: this was so much, so much, i got so carried away.
but jobe is lowkey my baby so i had to, just imaging that cute lil smile and laugh everytime he nearly gets caught.