for: @itsopinionsbased donât be embarrassed btw, itâs totally okay, thank you for the compliments and thank you for reading everything bb!! đ„čđ€ also, just watched his game, omg!!! đđđ
iâve read your story hand-kisses, and I have an idea where lamine gets jealous after another star during an interview says y/n is their celeb crush at one of her events?? đ«¶
CELEBRITY CRUSH - l. yamal
inwhich! you and lamine are watching an interview of your favorite artist, and he happens to call you out to be his celebrity crush on live television, causing lamine to get jealous.
frannytalks! this is one of my favorite requests iâve ever gotten, also i love peso pluma so donât ask why i picked him lolol. please like, reblog, & comment if youâd like to be added to any of my taglists!
the living room is dim except for the light from the tv. youâre curled into your side of the couch with a blanket over your legs, absentmindedly playing with the strings of your hoodie while lamine flips through channels to watch on the tv.
he lands on a peso pluma interview, you immediately look up from your fingers.
âthere we go,â he mutters, dropping the remote onto the cushion beside him.
you glance over, âwhat?â
ânothing.â he shrugs.
you know that tone, itâs the kind whereâs heâs either jealous or annoyed with you, âwhyâd you say it like that?â you ask.
âlike what?â he says, even though he knows exactly what he did.
you shake your head and turn back toward the television.
the interviewer is asking about music influences, concerts, and random stories from tours. every now and then you smile or quietly laugh at something being said.
lamine, meanwhile, has stopped paying attention entirely, heâs paying attention to you.
after a few minutes, he speaks up, âyou actually watch his interviews when iâm not around, donât you?â
you furrow your eyebrows slightly, âsometimes, i mean i watch yours too.â
he lets out a breath through his nose, âright.â
you look over, âwhatâs that supposed to mean?â
ânothing,â he says, leaning back further from you.
you know itâs another lie, but you turn your attention back towards the screen in front of you, continuing to play with parts of your hoodie.
the interviewer laughs on screen. âokay, serious question,â he says. âwhoâs your celebrity crush right now?â he grins wide, âeveryoneâs wondering.â
you donât actually care who he might say, but you listen in anyways, then peso pluma says your name while blushing.
âare you kidding me?â lamine says quietly, scoffing.
you pause, nervous, âi didnât know he was gonna say that.â
âobviously.â he gives a short laugh, âi know you didnât plan it.â
you sit there awkwardly as the interview keeps going in the background.
âthatâs crazy, though,â you say after a moment, avoiding eye contact.
he nods slowly, âyeah.â
âlamine.â you complain, looking up at him, heâs looking at his phone.
âhm?â he says, scrolling through videos.
âyouâre being weird.â you nudge his thigh with your foot.
he looks up from his phone, âam i?â
âyes.â you widen your eyes, annoyed.
he rubs a hand over his face, âi donât know, maybe i am.â
you pull your legs up to your chest, âwhy?â
âbecause thatâs literally your favorite artist,â he says.
you donât answer, instead you bite your lip slightly.
âyou listen to him all the time.â
you were about to say something when he cut you off, âand you think heâs attractive.â
your eyes widen slightly once more, âi mean,â
âno, donât even deny it,â he says with a small shake of his head. âyouâve told me before.â
you stare at the blanket in your lap, because technically heâs right. you had never actually said you had a crush on him or anything, but when you two met you went to one of his concerts together. you just so happened to mention he was conveniently attractive, not that he was your type nor crazy hot.
âokay,â you admit quietly.
he leans back into the couch, âexactly, you have nothing to say.â you hear the insecurity in his voice and it catches you off guard.
âitâs stupid,â he says after a few seconds. âi know itâs stupid.â
you look over at him, his arms are crossed now and he wonât look you in the eyes, instead his jaw is closed shut.
ânothingâs gonna happen. i know that. i know heâs a person on a screen.â he pauses. âbut it still sucks hearing that.â
âwhy?â you ask softly, âyou know i donât actually find him handsome or anything.â you left out a quiet laugh.
he laughs, not believing you, âbecause youâre excited whenever he comes on.â
you frown, âi get excited about lots of things.â
ânot like that.â he responds quickly.
âyou know all his songs. you know random facts about him. if an interview comes up, you wanna watch it.â he shrugs. âand now he says your name.â
âi know itâs stupid and iâm overreacting,â he sighs, âbut for like thirty seconds all i could think was, âgreat. of course itâs the guy she actually likes listening to.ââ
you stare at him, you know heâs not overreacting, instead heâs being insecure, for good reason and you understand why. you move a little closer. âhey.â
without saying anything, you climb onto his lap, pulling the blanket with you.
âwhat are you doing?â he asks quietly, his hands immediately going to your waist.
you wrap your arms around his shoulders, âcomforting my dramatic boyfriend.â
he huffs, âiâm not dramatic.â
âyou absolutely are,â you smile, âyou know i wouldnât want to look at anyone but you.â
his lips twitch ever so slightly and you lean forward to press a soft kiss against his mouth.
when you pull back, his forehead rests against yours,âyou know i love you, right?â you ask.
he rolls his eyes, âobviously.â
âno, seriously.â your fingers run through the hair at the back of his neck.
âi listen to music because i like music and i think some celebrities look good, but not in the same way i think you look good.â you caress his cheek, âand youâre the person i come home to. youâre the person iâm sitting on right now.â you wink playfully.
he finally relaxes a little, his grip around your waist loosens, âyeah?â he asks.
âyeah.â you nod, reassuring him and you kiss him again, more passionate.
the interview is still playing in the background. you reach over, grab the remote, and switch to something else entirely.
âthere,â you say, settling comfortably against his chest.
he lets out a quiet laugh, âawe you changed it just for me?â
you rest your head against his shoulder. âyouâre annoying when youâre jealous.â
his arms wrap around you, placing his head on your shoulder, âi wasnât jealous.â
you look up at him and he immediately looks away, blushing, âokay,â you say.
âmaybe i was a little jealous,â he admits.
-
please know i am currently working on all askâs, feel free to send more! i will try my hardest to get to it as fast as possible. :) also, i hope i understand your request correctly, i wasnât too sure what you meant by âat one of her events.â i apologize!
just found ANOTHER uninspired, non writing ass bitch on this god forsaken app! (first pic is the og) deleting the post and blocking me wont do shit you weirdo, you ainât even ACKNOWLEDGE the evil ass shit you did! DONT RUN!!
WORD FOR WORD YALL. KYLIAN DONT EVEN TALK LIKE THAT, JUST WRITE YO OWN SHIT đ
asked the thieving bitch bout it and now iâm blocked!⊠#nahdolly. yall make sure she ainât snatch up none of yall shit because apparently she thought this was an easy lick!
i even asked the REAL author about it and they confirmed that itâs not their account either and the fic was indeed stolen.
idk why mfs keep playing like are you not fucking embarrassed??? if i wasnât into basketball too and read other fics on here i would have never known that this fic was literally COMPLETELYYY stolen. like are you not fucking embarrassed? and then was in the comments telling mfs thank you like you wrote it! thatâs a new level of mentally ill! đ
the audacity of you @musialaslut âŠof course iâm blocked so the loser wont see this but i want yall to be aware of the weird shit going on.
and this is NOT the first time theyâve done this before too. @musialaslut get the fuck up since you wanna be the baddest bitch in the house đ€šđ€š
she thought if she changed the title of the fic and replace jordanâs name with william, no one would find outâ you tried and failed đ€đ€ funny how you keep targeting nba writers???
she BLATANTLY stole my moot @bluewatersfairyâs fic, WORD FOR WORD, BAR FOR BAR!! i sent an ask to her on anon, i got blocked đ itâs okay tho because people will find out TODAY.
@bluewatersfairyâs fic is on the left, @musialaslutâs STOLEN fic is on the right. spot the difference hm???
and the audacity for you to not address this situation ONCE and keep posting as if nothing happened is insane to me. you think that jude bellingham fic is gonna make people forget whatâs going on? WRONG. for all we know, you plagiarized that one too.
edit: wait ngl she prob did bc why is it a jude x reader fanfic and he's speaking french?? HE'S BRITISH AND PLAYS IN SPAIN?? oh you really played đđ
i donât know WHO needs to hear this, but if you ever want to get into writing, plagiarism is the last thing you need to do. writers spend too much time on their works for (for free, mind you) just for someone to go ahead, steal it, slap their name on it, and pretend its theirs.
a/n: i almost didn't post this bc every moodboard i made looked awful đ i'm still not sure abt this one but i gave up trying to make it perfect, anyway, i made this bc i absolutely adore him in a cap
sorry if there are any writing or translation mistakes
For once you were ready before him, and you intended to make the most of it. Your mum had been very clear that morning ''don't be late picking up the cake, it's your grandmother's birthday and I'm counting on both of you'' and you'd taken that seriously enough to be in your dress, hair done, and bag in hand while Doue was still in the bathroom. Mission accomplished. System working.
The system hadn't accounted for what happened when he opened the bathroom door.
He came into the room without ceremony, still running a hand through his hair, and you watched the exact moment he picked the cap off the dresser and put it on, backwards, with the ease of someone with absolutely no awareness of the damage he was causing. The t-shirt sat right on his shoulders, the trousers fit the way they fit, and the whole picture was already problem enough, but the cap, specifically the cap worn that way, left you considerably more worked up than was reasonable or convenient given that you had a cake to collect in twenty minutes.
You stood in the middle of the room watching him with a small smile that appeared before you noticed it.
You could have looked away. Could have gone back to the bag, pretended you were thinking about something else, survived the next twenty minutes on sheer willpower and the thought of your grandmother's birthday. Instead you crossed the room, stopped at a distance that had nothing casual about it, and looked up at him with the direct expression of someone who has made a decision and is prepared to deal with the consequences.
"You look so good," you said, almost like a complaint. "Just so you know, it's very frustrating."
Then the smile appeared â slowly, from the corner of his mouth, spreading across his whole face before it finished â and there was something in it that was simultaneously satisfied and provoking, the smile of someone who's just received a very useful piece of information and is already calculating what to do with it. He moved closer as he spoke, his voice dropping a register. "Is it?"
"It is," you confirmed, not moving a centimetre. "And we have to leave in twenty minutes to pick up grandma's cake, so if we're late it's going to be entirely your fault."
His hands found your waist, pulling you in with a quiet firmness that didn't ask permission, and he kept looking at you up close with that attention that had never had the habit of hiding itself. "You know what I want to do with twenty minutes."
You looked at him, and the part of you that was trying to be reasonable, the part that remembered your mum's voice on the phone that morning, your grandmother's birthday, the cake that needed collecting, made an honest attempt before giving up entirely. "I do. And we're not going to, we can't, or we'll be late and my mum will never forgive me." You sighed and finished the thought, eyes bright in a way that gave everything away. "But you with that cap backwards is my weakness, and that's entirely your fault."
His smile grew, and this time there was no attempt to contain it. He kept his hands firm at your waist, watching you up close with that expression you knew far too well. "So it's my fault."
"Completely."
"That's fine," he said, and kissed you.
It wasn't a hurried kiss. It was the kind that starts with clear intention and an implicit provocation â he knew exactly what he was doing â and it got heavier before you could do anything about it. You wrapped your arms around his neck and made no effort to loosen them, and he deepened it slowly, with no rush at all, as if the twenty minutes were a piece of information he'd decided to ignore entirely.
Then he lifted you. With an ease that shouldn't have been as attractive as it was and set you on top of the dresser, standing in front of you, between your legs, and the kiss didn't stop at any point during that process, only adjusted and got closer. You pulled at his t-shirt to bring him nearer and he responded with a low sound against your mouth that did nothing useful for your ability to think.
His mouth moved to your neck unhurriedly, and his hands came up along your sides with a deliberate slowness you felt in every centimetre. Then his fingers found the thin strap of your dress at your shoulder and began sliding it down with absolute calm, like someone acting as though they had all the time in the world and absolutely no family obligation.
The phone rang.
Neither of you reacted on the first ring. You had your fingers in his hair, his mouth was at your neck moving toward your chest, and the sound arrived from far away like something belonging to a completely different context.
You stepped off the dresser, adjusted your dress with two quick movements, took a breath, and answered with a voice you hoped sounded like someone who had been calmly getting ready to leave and not like someone who had just remembered there was a birthday cake to collect. "Hi Mum, we're already heading out, I'd forgotten my bag and we had to come back for it, but we're leaving right now, don't worry, we'll pick up the cake and get to grandma's in twenty minutes tops, I promise."
Your mum said the cake was a special order, that the bakery was going to close, that your grandmother was waiting, and several other things you listened to with the attention of someone carrying justified guilt. You said appropriate things, made promises with conviction, and hung up.
"Twenty minutes," he said, with a completely insufferable calm.
"Not a word," you replied, and went to the mirror to fix yourself.
He laughed and came up behind you, pressing a kiss to your neck and then another, slower one to your shoulder, exactly where the dress strap had been halfway down. You pointed at him in the mirror with the lipstick in your hand.
"Behave."
"I am behaving," he said, with the smile that proved exactly the opposite.
I was wondering if you could do like reverse stories with jude? Like instead of reader posting things jude posts on his story and close friends? đđđ
j. bellingham instagram stories if he was dating you
his public story:
his close friends story:
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I WANTED TO DO THIS SOOO BAD, I WASNâT SURE IF ANYONE WANTED IT THOUGH, thank you for requesting bb <3
j. bellingham taglist: @luvrgrl-222 , @mariaaaalm <3
