theunkn0wnarchive

[theunkn0wnarchive]

♱ ♱ ♱

intro

theunkn0wnarchive masterlist 𓆃

ɪʟʏᴀ — ɪʟʟ-ᴇᴇ-ᴜʜ egyptian  shifter multi 008

! rlly new ! if u see this … we’re friends now

i like to write sometimes

football. music. writing. archive. fashion.

©️ theunkn0wnarchive. all rights reserved, all my work is my own. do not steal, copy, claim, republish or translate any original works as your own. all images from pinterest.

[theunkn0wnarchive]

Omg pls write more about jobe bellibgham

ahhhh i defff will, im almost done w exams so ill be absolutely milking ts soon

[theunkn0wnarchive]

jokes over guys, trent, salah, robbo, ibou, darwin, bobby, mane, get back home now.

[rosewoodsecrets]

fuck instagram notes tumblr is my way of telling my business

[theunkn0wnarchive]

GELATOANDITALIANLINEN jobe bellingham. masterlist

family friends with the bellinghams means really nice holidays on amalfi coast and absolutely no concept of personal space bc jobe’s bed is more comfortable than yours

pairing: footballer!jobe x reader, fluff word count: ~1.7k warnings/notes: swearing, teasing, banter, “just friends”, in denial friends-to-lovers, domestic a/n: hiii mlsss, this is my first fic ever, lowk kinda nervous, pls excuse any typos and my australian grammar and spelling if you can spot it, im sooo excited to finally share my writing ! !

Having family friends has its perks.

… maybe the fact that your family friends are a couple of international footballers had a little something to do with it. But nonetheless.

Perks.

Perks that meant here you were, sprawled diagonally across a pristine white queen bed. Your back– swallowed by a couple hundred ridiculously plush pillows while the sun-drenched Amalfi Coast peeked through linen curtains.

The room was objectively gorgeous. Like, disgustingly so. The kind of gorgeous that made you feel vaguely poor although you were currently lying on imported Italian linen. The room smelled faintly of salt air and old stone, a scent deeply embedded in the porous warmth of the earthy clay tiles sweeping across the floor. The ocean view broke against crisp white walls; the vast Mediterranean ocean bordered like a living framed picture. A hypnotic heartbeat thrummed at each wave.

Still, despite the view, you found your way to your phone, mindlessly scrolling time away.

And to be honest, who could blame you?

The day had exhausted you of every ounce of energy you had, in the best way possible. The lingering warmth of the afternoon wrapped around your shoulders, leaving you with that perfect, post-beach heaviness– the kind where moving felt unnecessary. Your hair was still damp from the shower, and the AC was blasting a welcome chill through the room.

You'd spent the better part of your morning on a yacht, swimming in crystal-clear waters, which was just as glamorous as it sounded … that was until Jude started whacking everyone with pool noodles. Which naturally meant you ended up in increasingly aggressive water fights until the sun started to dip lower on the pale blue horizon. Bidding a slow farewell, the golden remnants of what it was still painting the sky in bruising oranges.

Now, you finally had a window of time to waste away before any dinner plans.

The soft rustle of movement interrupted the quiet whirr of the AC, followed by a small scuffle of footsteps and a deep groan. "Don’t you have your own room?"

You looked up.

Jobe stood in the doorway, seemingly taking in the sight of you completely dominating his mattress. He had clearly just stepped straight out of the en-suite shower; a damp towel slung over his shoulders and grey fleece shorts sitting comfortably low at his hips. His hair was still wet, and he had the particular expression of someone who had just discovered an extremely minor inconvenience and intended to make it everyone else’s problem.

He tried to sound irritated.

Tried.

However, the slow, completely unbothered smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth ruined it.

You looked back down at your phone.

“Your AC works better.”

A beat.

“And your mattress is softer.”

Another swipe.

“And there's no one else to bother?” He barrelled another question at you, though the slight tilt of his head suggested he already knew the answer.

“If I had options, do you think I’d be here?” The innocent smile you gave him was almost convincing.

He turned back to the mirror and raised his arms, bringing the towel up to dry his hair. The movement effortlessly flexed the broad muscles that clung to his shoulders; the afternoon glow casting a blurred golden rim across his skin. You didn’t even bother lowering your phone, your thumb continuing its lazy scroll as you melted further into his pillows. The pleasant, heavy warmth of the sun sat comfortably atop your chest.

He let out a low huff, a quiet laugh escaping him as he continued to dry his hair. "Good to know I'm a last resort."

"Literally the absolute last," you continued, raising up your free hand to begin listing the reasons off.

"Jude and Ashlyn went off... somewhere... to do something.” You paused.

“..and I value my innocence too much to find out what.”

Jobe snorted.

“Both sets of parents ditched for a gelato run. And my brothers are off doing... pfft.. God knows." You said, folding another finger down into your palm, listing off all your possible options.

Jobe tossed the damp towel onto the vanity chair before turning back around to face you fully. The smirk was back, entirely unbothered by your breakdown of the house's empty guest list.

"Lucky me, then."

“Don’t get emotional about it,” you teased back with a smirk.

He sighed dramatically, then walked over to the bed and climbed onto the mattress right next to you. The bed dipped under his weight, the sudden shift bringing a wave of his cologne that completely engulfed your senses. It was that specific, creamy vanilla scent he always wore, mixed with the crisp smell of shower gel (thankfully he had finally outgrown his 6 in 1 phase).

Instead of pushing you off like a normal person would, he grabbed your ankles and shifted your legs so they were resting right across his lap, positioning both of you in an “L” shape. He leaned back against the headboard, completely unbothered, and pulled out his own phone.

Your eyes flickered over the scene, your legs tangled across his lap, his warmth fluttering against the backs of your calves. You shifted slightly, desperately trying to focus on the video playing on your screen, but it was a total lost cause. All you could focus on was the calloused pads of his thumb lazily tracing shapes across your ankle.

The silence between you settled comfortably like a weighted blanket.

"Look at this," Jobe murmured after a few minutes of quiet, completely oblivious to your internal crisis. He tilted his phone toward you, showing a ridiculous Snap of Carney wiping out into a pool.

“You’re a proper facebook mum.”

He rolled his eyes but didn't let go of your ankles. Instead, he retracted his phone back away from you, leaning his head back against the pillows as he looked down at you. "You're lucky I’m comfortable in this position; otherwise you'd be on the floor." A small smile flattened across his face.

"Audacity is crazy to be honest, I am a guest, Bellingham. Treat me with some respect," you shot back, though you made absolutely no effort to move away from him.

The quiet settled over the room again; his thumb resumed its lazy, soothing circles against your skin, and as the AC hummed in the background, pulling you under a heavy wave of exhaustion.

“You know what you’re wearing to dinner?” You perked, hoping a conversation would pull you away from your hyperfocus on his warmth.

Jobe didn’t even blink, his eyes pulling back toward his phone screen as he continued his own mindless scroll. "Probably my cream knit shirt and some linen trousers. Why? Are you planning on matching with me?"

"I would never," you retorted, though your heart did that stupid little flutter again. "I was just wondering if you’re a basic bitch… which, listening to that outfit, you are by the way.”

""You talk a lot of shit for someone currently taking up my entire bed," Jobe murmured, his voice dropping an octave, eyebrows knitted together. By this point, all pearly 32s were showing from both of you.

“Doesn't change the fact that you're still basic as shit,” you baited.

His free hand tossed a loose pillow straight at your chest, though it wasn’t anything but gentle. The movement brought him just a fraction closer as you laughed, and the scent of his cologne washed over you all over again, making your brain feel slightly fuzzy.

"You’re such a bum," he murmured, his voice dropping slightly as the room fell quiet again. He didn't look back down at his phone this time. Instead, his dark eyes just locked onto yours, his thumb slowing down to a gentle, steady press against your skin. You wanted to look away, to break the sudden, thick tension building between you, but you were completely glued to the spot.

The sudden loss of his touch made you want to pull your legs back, but before you could even shift, he leaned forward. The proximity brought another intoxicating hit of his crisp cologne. He sat up, his bare torso hovering inches above your legs as his arms hung over them, a smile ghosted over his face, infectious enough that you felt your own lips curling

“What?” An airy chuckle escaped your lips; his pupils widened like saucers.

“Nothing.” His smile was gentle, the faintest dimple appearing in his cheek as his eyes stayed on yours.

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re such a freak.”

His smile only grew, amusement pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His phone remained forgotten in his hand, the video still playing silently beneath his thumb. You could hear the faint sound of the AC, the occasional noise from outside, and absolutely nothing from either of you.

You stared at him.

He stared back.

And then–

“Are you two coming to dinner or what?” Jude’s undeniable voice calling past the doorway, making you both jolt. Jobe blinked, looking towards the door.

“What?” He called back.

“You’ve got twenty minutes!”

“Oh, for–” You grabbed the nearest pillow and shoved it directly into his face.

He caught it with a laugh. “Why are you attacking me?”

“Because you’re taking too long.”

“You're the one in my bed!”

“And look at you…” You gestured vaguely at him, as though his entire existence was responsible for wasting time. “Still delaying dinner.”

He pulled the pillow away, looking entirely too amused.

“You're actually insane.”

“You knew that.”

He shook his head, still smiling as he got off the bed.

The mattress slowly rose back into place beneath you, releasing a tiny, pathetic squeak as it settled. You watched him cross the room, collecting the clothes he'd abandoned around the chair earlier, before catching yourself staring at the discarded towel hanging half off the vanity.

You followed, pushing yourself off the bed, smoothing the front of your clothes down mostly out of habit. Your phone disappeared into your pocket, and you glanced around the room one last time.

The warmth of the afternoon had settled into the house now, the open windows carrying in the distant sound of the sea and voices drifting up from downstairs. Somewhere below, Jude was already complaining loudly about everyone being late.

“Twenty minutes,” Jude yelled from somewhere downstairs.

“We heard you!” you yelled back.

“Clearly not loud enough!”

“Jude shut the fu—”

Jobe's laugh followed you into the hallway.

©️ theunkn0wnarchive. all rights reserved, all my work is my own. do not steal, copy, claim, republish or translate any original works as your own. all images from pinterest.

[theunkn0wnarchive]

♱ ♱ theunkn0wnarchive masterlist 𓆃

football.

JOBE BELLINGHAM

Gelato and Italian Linen

summary: family friends with the bellinghams means really nice holidays on amalfi coast and absolutely no concept of personal space bc jobe’s bed is more comfortable than yours

VIRGIL VAN DIJK

tbc

TRENT ALEXANDER-ARNOLD

tbc

taking requests!!

©️ theunkn0wnarchive. all rights reserved, all my work is my own. do not steal, copy, claim, republish or translate any original works as your own. all images from pinterest.

[transcendingthegame]

no take-backs ~ jo.bellingham

pairing: jobe x black!reader

word count: 1.5k+

warning/notes: emotional distress themes, feelings of isolation, comfort, fluff

summary: what started off as a bad night turns into a beautiful forever with jobe

a/n: hi lovelies, sorry for being gone for so long, second semester started and all of a sudden my extra time disappeared, I am going to try my best drop a few more this week :)

masterlist

The house in Dortmund was dead silent, save for the rhythmic, aggressive patter of cold winter rain against the bedroom windowpane.

It was 2:14 AM.

You were sitting on the edge of your bed, your knees pulled tightly to your chest, shaking so hard your teeth were practically chattering.

The cry had started small—a tight, suffocating knot in your throat—before completely fracturing into deep, racking sobs that robbed you of your breath.

You had lived your entire life learning how to be self-sufficient.

You didn't know what it felt like to be genuinely cared for, to have a safety net, or to experience the kind of soft, unconditional love that didn't demand something in return.

Up until now, vulnerability always felt like handing someone a weapon to use against you later.

So when the weight of everything hit you tonight—the loneliness, the sheer exhaustion of holding up your own walls—it felt physical.

Like your lungs were collapsing.

You stared down at your glowing phone on the nightstand.

You’d been talking to Jobe for a few months now. It was fresh, gentle, and easily the softest thing you had ever known, but calling him right now felt terrifying.

He had early morning training with the squad. He needed his sleep.

Another sob tore through your chest, taking the last of your restraint with it.

With shaking, numb fingers, you hit his name and pressed the phone to your ear.

Ring. Ring.

On the third ring, a quiet click sounded through the speaker, followed by a thick, heavy-with-sleep rasp.

"Mmm... hello?"

"Jobe..."

The moment his name slipped past your lips, your voice completely broke, giving way to a small, breathless hiccup that betrayed everything.

On the other end of the line, the sound of rustling sheets stopped dead. Jobe was wide awake in a fraction of a second.

"Hey, hey—what’s wrong? What happened?"

His voice lost all its sleepiness, dropping into a sharp, focused low tone.

"Are you hurt? Talk to me."

"I’m—I’m sorry," you choked out, wiping desperately at your face with the sleeve of your oversized hoodie.

"I know you have training early...I’m so sorry, Jobe, I just...I can't be by myself right now. I’m really upset and I just... I physically can't do this alone tonight."

"Stop apologizing," he commanded softly, the sound of a belt buckle clicking and a drawer sliding open coming through the receiver. "Don't say another word. I’m coming to get you."

"Jobe, your sleep—"

"I don't give a damn about training right now," he cut in gently, his tone absolute. "Stay right where you are. Lock your doors, stay inside, and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Okay?"

"Okay," you whispered.

True to his word, fourteen minutes later, the low rumble of his car engine idled outside your front door.

You pulled on a pair of shoes, unlocked the door, and stepped out into the crisp, biting night air.

The second you stepped onto the driveway, the driver’s side door swung open and Jobe stepped out.

He didn't say a word.

He just closed the distance between you in a few long strides, wrapped his massive arms around you, and lifted you slightly off your feet, burying his face into the side of your neck.

The physical impact of his chest against yours made you choke out another small cry.

You buried your face into his shoulder, your fingers locking onto the fabric of his hoodie.

He felt solid, warm, and impossibly real.

He held you tight enough to keep you from falling apart, one hand cupping the back of your head, swaying you gently in the quiet street.

"I've got you," he murmured into your hair, his warm breath fanning across your scalp. "I’m right here. You’re safe."

He held you until the worst of the shaking stopped, then gently guided you into the heated passenger seat of his car, buckling you in himself before rounding the hood.

He didn't ask questions.

He didn't force you to explain the tears.

Instead, he put the car in drive and headed away from the city center, taking the winding, quiet roads that carved their way up toward the high hills overlooking the sprawling lights below.

When he pulled up to the dark, secluded overlook, the entire city looked like a blanket of golden stars beneath the heavy winter sky.

The air outside was freezing, the wind sweeping over the edge of the hill with a low whistle.

Jobe turned off the engine, grabbed his heavy winter jacket from the back seat, and rounded the car to open your door.

He reached out his hand, helping you out, and walked you over to the wooden barrier facing the view.

"Here," he said, slipping out of his heavy coat despite the freezing bite in the air.

"Jobe, no, you'll freeze—"

"Quiet," he murmured with a small, crooked smile, draping the massive, warm jacket over your shoulders.

It swallowed you whole, smelling heavily of his cologne and warm cotton.

He stepped right up behind you, pulling you back against his chest and wrapping his long arms around your waist, cocooning you in his warmth.

He rested his chin lightly on top of your head, his hands folded over yours at your waist, holding you tight against the cold wind.

For ten minutes, neither of you spoke. You just stood there, anchored by his steady heartbeat against your back, watching the city lights flicker in the dark while the warmth of his body slowly chased the last lingering cold out of your bones.

You let yourself sink completely into his embrace, realizing with a quiet, overwhelming clarity that this—this safe, protective softness—was what people meant when they talked about love.

Slowly, when your breathing had completely evened out, you turned around within his arms to face him.

Jobe’s arms stayed loosely around your waist.

The cool winter air had turned his breath to small plumes of mist, but his eyes were dark, soft, and entirely focused on you.

You looked up at his strong jawline, the quiet strength in his features, and the absolute tenderness in his gaze.

"Jobe?"

"Yeah?" he answered softly, leaning down an inch.

"I'm so in love with you," you whispered, the truth slipping out effortlessly, stripped of any fear or hesitation.

A slow, breathtaking smile broke across Jobe’s face, illuminating his features.

He let out a quiet, breathless laugh, his hands sliding up from your waist to cup the sides of your face, his thumbs gently wiping away the dry tear tracks on your cheeks.

"Good," he murmured, his voice dropping into a thick, velvety register. "Because I'm completely in love with you, too. Maddeningly so."

He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was instant heat against the freezing night air—passionate, deep, and utterly unhurried.

Jobe tilted his head, parting your lips with a smooth, possessive slide of his tongue that made your knees turn to water.

You reached up, tangling your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer as he deepened the angle, taking his time to drink you in.

His hands moved from your cheeks down to your waist, pulling you flush against his hips, kissing you with a slow, rhythmic intensity that made the rest of the world completely fade away.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your lips swollen and warm, your foreheads resting together in the quiet space between you.

Jobe gave you one last, lingering kiss on the corner of your mouth before flashing a mischievous grin.

"Now, stay right here. I’ve got something for you."

He jogged back to the car and popped the trunk, returning a moment later with a plaid wool blanket and a brown paper bag he’d grabbed from a late-night drive-thru on his way to your house.

He spread the blanket out near the edge of the overlook, away from the muddy path, and pulled you down to sit next to him.

He wrapped half the blanket around your shoulders and the other half around himself, sandwiching you against his side.

Out of the bag, he pulled two hot coffees, a box of warm, glazed donuts, and a packet of sweet gummies.

"Best late-night gourmet dinner Dortmund has to offer," Jobe joked, nudging his shoulder against yours as he handed you a steaming cup.

You laughed—a real, genuine sound that made Jobe’s eyes light up with pride—and took a sip of the sweet coffee.

For the next hour, the heaviness of the night was completely replaced by a quiet, intimate peace.

You sat at the edge of the cliff under the stars, sharing donuts, brushing crumbs off each other's jackets, and talking about soft, easy things—childhood memories, his favorite obscure music tracks, and the ridiculous antics of his teammates.

Between sentence breaks, Jobe couldn't keep his hands off you.

He’d steal sweet, powdered-sugar-tasting kisses from your lips, trace slow patterns on the back of your hand, or pull you in by the back of your neck just to press a lingering kiss to your temple while you spoke.

For the first time in your life, as you sat wrapped in his jacket, listening to him laugh under the winter sky, you knew what it felt like to be completely, safely loved.

The drive back from the overlook was bathed in a gentle, contented quiet.

The sky was just beginning to turn a soft, bruised purple along the horizon when Jobe pulled into the driveway of his house.

He didn't even ask if you wanted to go back to your apartment; he simply parked, walked around to open your door, and led you inside by the hand.

He led you straight upstairs to his bedroom, pulled an oversized, freshly laundered hoodie out of his wardrobe for you to sleep in, and tucked you into his king-sized bed.

The sheets smelled faintly of cedar and his cologne, wrapping around you like a warm cocoon.

The moment your head hit the pillow, the sheer exhaustion of the night caught up to you.

Jobe slid in beside you, wrapping a heavy arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest, his warm breath resting against the back of your neck until you drifted off into the deepest, most peaceful sleep you’d had in months.

When you finally woke up, sunlight was streaming through the heavy blackout curtains, painting warm golden stripes across the duvet.

You reached out instinctively to your side, but the space beside you was empty—the sheets cold. Panic flickered in your chest for half a second before your eyes landed on the nightstand.

Sitting next to a steaming mug of tea was a plate covered with a warm paper towel, and a handwritten note resting against a sleek, iconic red jewelry box.

You sat up, pulling the duvet around your shoulders, and picked up the note. Jobe’s handwriting was bold and a little messy, written in black ink:

Morning, beautiful.

Had to run to early morning recovery and a quick team meeting, but I’ll be home by 11:30 AM. DO NOT leave this house. You’re staying with me today. Eat the breakfast—I made the pancakes soft just the way you like them, plus some eggs and sweet potatoes.

See you in a bit. – Jobe x

A slow, helpless smile spread across your face as you set the note down.

Under the paper towel was a full spread—fluffy pancakes, scrambled eggs, and roasted sweet potatoes, still warm.

You ate sitting propped up against his pillows, feeling a strange, wonderful sense of belonging settle over you.

At exactly 11:28 AM, the front door clicked open downstairs, followed by heavy, quick footsteps heading up the stairs.

Jobe pushed the bedroom door open, still in his official club track kit, carrying a massive, breathtaking bouquet of white lilies and dark red roses in one hand.

The second his eyes caught yours—sitting up in his bed, wearing his hoodie, looking rested and soft—a radiant, unreserved grin broke across his face.

"Look at you," he murmured, setting the massive bouquet on the dresser and walking straight over to the side of the bed. "You actually listened to me and stayed."

"I ate all the pancakes, too," you said softly, looking up at him as he sat on the edge of the mattress.

"Good girl," he murmured, leaning down to capture your lips in a long, lingering kiss that tasted like cold winter air and sweet peppermint.

He cupped your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he pulled back just an inch. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," you admitted, reaching up to touch his wrist. "So much better."

Jobe smiled, his eyes dark and brimming with intention.

He reached over to the nightstand, picking up the small, heavy red Cartier box sitting beside your empty plate.

He didn't open it right away. Instead, he took your hand, holding it gently between both of his.

"Last night, you told me you’d never really known what it felt like to be loved properly," Jobe said, his voice dropping into a low, serious register that made your breath catch. "And I swore to myself on the drive home that I was going to spend every single day making sure you never, ever feel that kind of uncertainty again. I don't want 'talking.' I don't want vague. I want the whole world to know you're mine, and I want to be the guy who takes care of you for real."

He opened the red box.

Inside sat two gleaming Cartier Love bracelets in polished gold.

On the smooth metal of the one sized for your wrist, delicate cursive lettering was freshly engraved:

[Your Name] & Jobe — 04.08.2026

You stared down at the polished metal, the date gleaming under the bedroom light, a lump forming in your throat—not from pain this time, but from a sudden, overwhelming wave of joy.

"Oh Jobe..." you whispered, your eyes welling up.

"Let me put it on you," he murmured softly.

He pulled the delicate gold band from the velvet cushion, using the tiny gold screwdriver to carefully lock the bracelet around your wrist.

The metal felt cool and solid against your skin—a permanent, physical anchor.

Then, he handed you the screwdriver and held out his own wrist, letting you lock the matching band into place on him.

When the tiny screw tightened into place, Jobe leaned in, taking your face in both hands and bringing his mouth down on yours in a deep, fierce, and utterly possessive kiss.

He pulled you straight into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist while your fingers tangled into the short hair at the nape of his neck.

The kiss was slow, hot, and full of a quiet, solid promise—no more walking alone, no more holding up walls, no more cold nights.

"You're my girlfriend now," Jobe whispered against your lips, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, then to your cheek, then to your jawline, making you giggle as his stubble tickled your skin.

"Official. No take-backs."

"No take-backs." you echoed, resting your forehead against his, your hand resting over his heart where the gold bracelet on his wrist caught the light.

[strwmiu]

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ꒰ྀི   . ✶   ❛  PICTURES OF YOU  ❜   ⸝⸝  🦌.

⧼ 🫖 ⧽ 一 content。 ⸝⸝ none; smau drabble ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა boyfriend!jobe ♡ ྀི established relationship (2 year relationship), reader is best friends with ashlyn & jude, nightfire coded forreauu { back to masterlist! }

mina’s corner ⸝⸝   feeding the 3 jobe enthusiasts (incl. me) on here with a smau drabble yum 🐾🐾

yourusername | marbella 📍 🎧 fuck me eyes, ethel cain

liked by user1, jobebellingham, user2 & 2,785 more yourusername holiday dumpskii ☀️☀️ (jude forced me to include him 😐😐😐)

jobebellingham pretty girl ❤️❤️

yourusername 🥹🥹 i love u sm

user3 and she listens to ethel😭😭💗

user4 how to be jobe no glue no borax

user5 the only couple tbh

user6 her wearing his cap in the first pic 😭💌 where’s my jobe pls

ashlyncastro pretty girl 😍🥹

username no i’ll kiss u no balls

judebellingham BACK. OFF🤺🤺🤺

judebellingham i did not beg u u donut

yourusername WHO IS YOU CALLING A DONUT🤬🤬🤬

jobebellingham now now children..

judebellingham shut up jobe.

jobebellingham k ykw, you can die then.

judebellingham ITS THE WAY YOU CROPPED ME OUT TO ONLY SHOW MY LEG????💀💀💀💀

yourusername you’re welcome x

judebellingham 😐😐i am not thankful.

user7 another reader post, another argument between her and jude 😭😭😭

user8 they’re so brother sister coded honestly

user9 and jobe’s the coerced mother 😹😹

yourusername spare me… it’s not my fault jude’s a loser😕😕😕

judebellingham jobe tell your gf to stop bullying me AGAIN.

jobebellingham yeah HEAVY on coerced 🫩🫩…

yourusername | dortmund 📍 🎧 expectations, olivia rodrigo

liked by jobebellingham, ashlyncastro, user10 & 3,579 more yourusername weekend.jpeg 🐇🌷🐾♡

jobebellingham not the bicep pic😭🤣❤️

yourusername just doing my job as the leader of jobe bellingham nation😇😇

jobebellingham what the fuck is that.

jobenation i’ve been discovered.

jobebellingham WTF ITS REAL

judebellingham HA. donut.

yourusername there’s one for you too btw 🤣🤣🤣🤣

judebellingham sorry what.

user11 everyone shut up, reader just posted another photo dump

yourusername 💗💗🥹

user12 reader just casually exposing to the brothers that they have fan pages😭😭😭😭

user13 and that she’s the leader omg she’s just like us

user14 i just know they’re gonna be up all night stalking them with a disgusted look on their faces 😭😭

ashlyncastro not that picture whyyyy😭😭

yourusername because your beauty is unmatched ofc

ashlyncastro 💗💗🥹

judebellingham hey so can you STOP making my gf giggle pls…….🤬🤬🤬

yourusername your girlfriend after she was just giggling to my comment is insane.

user15 bye how does jobe not get uncomfortable from reader’s constant flirting with ashlyn….😟😟

user16 because he can actually take a joke unlike you lot 💀💀💀

user17 the way it’s so obvious how reader is with jude in compared to jobe 😭😭 y’all just aren’t used to boy-girl friendships and it shows 💀💀

yourusername nah fr tho like jude’s just my dawg wdym???

judebellingham what.

jobebellingham AHAHAHAHAHAHA

jobebellingham 🎧 crush, ethel cain

liked by yourusername, ashlyncastro, judebellingham & 3,579 more jobebellingham 2 years with this weirdo wow❤️

yourusername OMG NEW JOJO DUMP 😇😇

jobebellingham I SAID TO QUIT WITH THE NAME

yourusername never ❤️

yourusername you’re so so so cute && i love you so so much 💗🥹

yourusername slide 3 is my favourite <3

jobebellingham you’re my favourite ❤️

yourusername we’re making out once you’re home btw

jobebellingham RUNNINGGGGG

user18 just know if they ever break up i’m nuking everyone

user19 HE. USED. ETHEL CAIN. FOR HER😭😭😭

user20 seriously bro like where tf is my jobe

ashlyncastro cuties ❤️❤️

user21 my favourite sibling in laws 🥹

user22 oh he’s still dating her…shocker

user23 don’t pmo.

user24 well yes???

user25 did you expect them to break up or sum💀💀

judebellingham what a cute pair of stinkies

ashlyncastro jude😭

yourusername think this is the nicest thing you’ve said about us juju😇😇😇😇

jobebellingham and that’s saying a lot..

judebellingham acting like i’m never nice to you guys😟

yourusername UHM….!!!!

user26 jobe you cannot handle allat i fear…

yourusername that’s what you think

jobebellingham READER.

yourusername ok i’ll stop 😇😇😇

©️ STRWMIU. all rights reserved. do not steal or claim any original works as your own. do not feed my works into ai. @georgesclarkey @narcejars @fayenotwebster @oliviaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @willows-kiss @dolliscent333 @byekitti @xiamvl @sophiaehernandez @dianazyb @smzyyx @wentworthmillerismyboo09 @c0c0nutmatcha ( to join my taglist, fill out the form here!!)

[haventleftalwaysright]

[flowersfromunderground]

Be yourself so ppl looking for u can find u

[nottsim]

going on a vacation with him just for him to sit across from me at dinner tan in his linen shirt end of prayer

[theunkn0wnarchive]

amen.

[theunkn0wnarchive]

dream car is literally 1979 Chevrolet Camaro Z28 in all black

[polkayeti]

Everyone cook up more fanfics of Jobe Bellingham and my life is yours