#universefcb

[kamochoo]

can u do a lando x reader where she gets along well this his family and he cant help admire her and think about marriage and stuff like that. thank youu <3

WHAT IF IT WAS 4EVER?,LANDO NORRIS.

→ Summary: You went to spend a lazy Sunday at his parents' house with his family.

→ Warning: Mention of Reader. Fluff. Romance.

→ Author's note: Please make me more requests from him! I love writing about him.

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

The Norris house smelled of lavender, fresh coffee, and baking banana bread. It was one of those lazy, overcast Sundays when everyone wore sweatshirts and spoke softly so as not to break the spell of comfortable silence.

Lando sat on the edge of the kitchen table, his long legs stretched out in front of him, watching a scene that had been repeating itself for a few weeks, but it seemed like the kind of routine he wanted to have forever.

She.

In the kitchen with her mother, laughing easily as she cut fruit, grabbed too many cups at once, and stole spoonfuls of raw cake batter. She got along so well with everyone—as if she had grown up there, as if she already knew the exact places for the cutlery, the favorite smell of his sister's tea, his father's silly jokes.

“Do you think she’ll accept?” Flo’s quiet voice brought him back to reality. She was standing next to him, drinking a cappuccino.

“Accept what?”

“You.” Flo raised an eyebrow. “With that silly look on your face, you’re going to propose to her tomorrow.”

Lando let out a muffled laugh, but inside… she was right.

He looked again.

She wasn’t just beautiful. She was warm, she was light. She was “stay in bed for five more minutes”; she was the kind of hug that could calm any storm. She had a way of smiling that made people stop talking just to keep looking.

And the scariest thing?

She liked his family. She really did. It wasn't an effort, it wasn't out of politeness. It was genuine.

When his mother mentioned the old dress from her youth, she asked to see it. When his father mentioned old cars, she asked. When Cisca teased Lando, she laughed knowingly. Everything with her was natural. Nothing forced.

Later, when lunch was over and everyone was sprawled on the couch with dessert plates on their laps, she laid her head on Lando's shoulder and began to play with his fingers.

“Your family is wonderful,” she said softly, so that only he could hear.

Lando swallowed hard. His heart was beating faster than on a starting grid.

“You are wonderful,” he replied.

She smiled against his skin. But then she straightened up, sitting back down.

“You seem strange. Are you okay?”

“Okay.” He ran a hand over his face. “I’m just… trying to figure out how I ended up here. On this couch. With you. Feeling like… this is it.”

“What is this?”

He looked into her eyes, and even though he was afraid of appearing too intense, he didn't hold back.

“That’s it. Me, you, my family. The sound of the rain outside. You making tea for my mother, playing with my sister. Me wanting time to stop. That’s it.”

She didn't say anything for a few seconds. But she took his hand and squeezed it tightly.

“I feel it too. And if it comforts you, it also scares you a little.”

Lando smiled, a shy smile, different from the ones he gave to photographers or on podiums. It was that smile that only she knew. The real one.

“It’s not fear of failure,” he confessed. “It’s fear of not being enough. You…you are so many things.”

She laughed, looking at him with that sparkle in her eyes that made everything seem easy.

“So we do it together. And you’ll see: what you take from life... is this.”

When everyone went to sleep and only the two of them were left in the room with the movie paused and the lights dimmed, she dozed off with her legs over his. Lando didn't have the heart to wake her up. He stayed there, running his hand through her hair, watching her serene and sleepy expression.

And it was in that moment — simple, calm, without anything extraordinary — that he knew for sure.

It wasn't the highest podium he wanted to reach.

It was her.

That was it.

It was all that.

And if he ever had the courage, he would tell her that he thought about asking for her hand right there, with her hair spread out on his lap and the muffled sound of the rain through the window.

But for now, Lando was content to kiss her forehead and promise, with all his heart:

“I will make you happy. Every Sunday. Forever, if you let me.”

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[kamochoo]

Hello could you write about Pau who can’t stop kissing reader ? Like he’s been away and he was missing her please :))

KISSES THAT BURN

→ Pairing: Pau Cubarsí X fem!reader

→ Warning: Mention of Reader. Fluff, confort.

→ Author's note: I can't believe he's dating 😭 I'm so happy for him.

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

The plane had barely touched down, but Pau was already leaning forward, his seatbelt unbuckled before the bell. The vacation had officially begun at that moment, but for him, this wasn't just a break from the season. It was a chance to finally stop missing it. To stop holding back.

Barcelona felt small on that journey to her apartment. The taxi seemed to drag on, each traffic light a provocation. The sky was clear, the sun was strong, but the heat came from inside, burning in anticipation. He had said he was going to take a few days off, of course. But he hadn't said it would be now. Or that he would go straight to her address, without a hotel, without plans, just missing her terribly and with a backpack thrown over his back.

He climbed the floors with his heart in his teeth. His body was already on alert. His breathing was shallow as if he were returning from the second half of a decisive game.

The doorbell rang. Nothing.

He tried the doorknob. Open.

He came in.

The loudest sound in the apartment was the ticking of the clock on the wall. The blinds were half-drawn, cutting the light in warm streaks across the living room floor. She was there—with her back to the window, her hair tied up messily, an old T-shirt of his on her body.

For a second, he just watched. He kept that image as if he knew he would want to remember it forever.

“Hi,” he said quietly.

She turned slowly. The surprise on her face hit her like a light, happy punch. And before she could say anything—before any word could make the emotion lose its strength—he was already there, glued to her, his arms pulling her tightly and his mouth colliding with hers as if all the days had been a curse.

It wasn't a 'hello' kiss. It was a 'I couldn't take it anymore' kiss. A 'I dreamed about this every night' kiss. A 'let me remember what your mouth tastes like because nothing else made sense while I was away' kiss.

She grabbed him at the same moment, her hands going straight to his hair, pulling with the urgency of someone who had also waited too long.

He walked with her to the couch, without stopping the kiss. He could barely see where he was stepping. He could only feel. Mouth, skin, heat. Her body pressed against his, their breaths tangling with each other, the sound of their kisses drowning out any thoughts.

“You kill me with this,” he murmured between two long kisses. “I swear I almost went crazy without touching you.”

His hands explored as if it were the first time, but with the intimacy of someone who already knows the exact path she likes. Her shirt rose a little. He kissed her neck, then her shoulder, then back to her mouth. He couldn't stay away from her for even a few seconds.

It was as if the kiss was the only real way to kill the longing. And he didn't want to kill just a little. He wanted to destroy.

She laughed between one sigh and another, and he kissed that laugh too. Every sound she made, he wanted to keep. Every tremor, every response of her body to his touch, became another reason to continue.

It was minutes, maybe hours, like that — no time, no direction, just mouth and desire. Their bodies pressed together, their words tangled together by kisses that didn't ask for permission. Pau pulled her closer and closer, as if his chest couldn't hold all the desire he felt.

“I’m never leaving here,” he said, lacing his fingers with hers, squeezing tightly. “I’m going to spend the whole vacation like this. Kissing you until you tell me to stop.”

“What if I never ask?”

“Even better.”

She pulled him back. He laughed hoarsely and fell on top of her on the couch. More kisses. More skin. More everything. The suitcases remained closed in the hallway. The two of them had forgotten the world.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[kamochoo]

A BIRTHDAY WITH LANDO, LANDO NORRIS.

→ Summary: It's your birthday and he has a surprise plan for you.

→ Warning: Mention of Reader. Fluff. Romance.

→ Author's note: This picture of him is so...🫦

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

Waking up on your birthday used to be a common occurrence. A notification or two on social media, a call from your mother, maybe a quick message from a distant friend. But that day started differently. Even before the first rays of sunlight had penetrated the bedroom curtains, your phone vibrated with an unusual notification: a calendar reminder created by someone else.

Today: The most important birthday in the universe. Get ready for the best day of your life. Love, Lando.

She smiled to herself, still half asleep. She didn't even have time to reply to the message because, in the next second, the doorbell rang.

Dragging herself to the door with one of his hoodies slung over her shoulders, she slowly opened it. On the other side, Lando was smiling, hair messy, a kraft paper bag in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

“Happy birthday, my favorite person,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to show up here before seven in the morning. “Coffee from your favorite coffee shop and chocolate croissants. I’m outdoing myself, huh?”

She let out a low laugh and pulled him inside by the hand.

“Did you hack my calendar?”

“I broke in. I really hacked. And this is just the beginning.”

They spent the morning together, taking lazy bites of breakfast and making out softly on the couch. He insisted that she couldn’t make plans for the rest of the day—“You just have to trust me,” he’d say with a mischievous smile. And she did.

Around 10am, Lando handed her a small backpack and told her to wear something comfortable.

“Not a spoiler?” she asked, curious.

“Not one. But I guarantee there’s sunshine, blue skies and something you’ll remember forever.”

The car took them out of town. Along the way, he put on her favorite playlist, sang off-key on purpose, and made up absurd versions of the lyrics just to make her laugh.

Finally, the vehicle stopped in front of a large field full of sunflowers, with a picnic table set up in the center. A wicker basket, two light-colored wooden chairs, and a small radio playing Taylor Swift's Lover in the background. She put her hand to her mouth in excitement.

"Like you...?"

“I listen when you talk, you know?” he replied, leaning his forehead against hers. “You once said that you always dreamed of a picnic in a field of sunflowers, but never had the chance.”

With tears in her eyes, she threw herself into his arms. Lando held on tightly, as if he knew that gesture was worth more than any words.

They spent hours there, laughing, eating strawberries and cheese, telling stories and taking pictures with an analog camera he had hidden. Every detail seemed carefully planned: the smell of the flowers, the taste of the food, even the position of the sun when he suggested they take a break to lie down on the grass.

“Do you want to know my real gift?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the sky. “Because what you’ve seen so far has just been the warm-up.”

She raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Is there more?”

“Yes. But you need to trust me again.”

The way back was quicker. He led her blindfolded to the top floor of his own apartment. When he removed the blindfold, she found herself in a transformed room: soft lights, dozens of photos of them hanging with little clothespins, white rose petals scattered on the floor, and a dining table set for two.

But what caught his attention was the small screen at the back of the room. Lando had set up a mini movie theater at home.

“And now... the special session: Our best moments.”

It was a compilation of videos he had filmed himself over the months—some she hadn’t even known he had recorded. Little moments, smiles exchanged in silence, her dancing in her pajamas in the kitchen, the two of them laughing until they fell into bed.

When the video ended, Lando was silent for a while, just holding her hand.

“I thought a lot about what to give you as a gift. And nothing seemed good enough... until I realized that the best thing I can give you is my time, my attention, and every version of me. Because if you want me to, I want to be here for all your birthdays. Every single one.”

She didn't respond with words—she didn't need to. The kiss that followed said everything she felt: gratitude, love, and the certainty that this was the best birthday of her life.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[kamochoo]

Peace sealed with paws

Pairing: Max verstappen X fem!reader

Summary: You have a big fight, and he sees how much he hurt you and made you sad. But to make amends, he gives you a dog as a gift.

Warning: Mention of Reader, fluff.

Author's note: My first imagine with pilots 🥰

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

Silence was the worst punishment of all. Max knew that. And that night, as he paced the living room of the apartment he shared with his girlfriend, the weight of her silence made his chest tighten more than any defeat on the track.

The argument had started for a small reason, like most big fights. A misinterpreted comment, an impatient look after a tiring day, and soon they were both on opposite sides of the same bed, like strangers. The problem was that he had crossed the line. He had said too many harsh words, with too much impatient a tone. And the worst part? He had seen in her eyes the exact moment when something inside her had broken.

She cried silently—she didn't scream, she didn't fight back. She just kept quiet, as if she had given up fighting. And that destroyed Max inside.

Two days passed. Two long days in which she avoided contact, answered in monosyllables, and left the room when he entered. Max tried to reach out. He tried to apologize. But the words sounded hollow compared to the damage he had caused.

So he decided to do it differently.

---

It was Saturday morning when she woke to a strange sound coming from the hallway. A high-pitched, clumsy bark, like a toy had come to life. Frowning, she got out of bed in sweatpants and a loose T-shirt, her hair still messy from sleep.

When he opened the bedroom door, he found Max sitting on the floor in the hallway, and on his lap, a little ball of white fur that could barely keep its paws on the floor.

“Hi,” he said, with a shy smile and his eyes fixed on her, as if waiting for a verdict.

She frowned in surprise, and her first reaction was to duck down too, letting the little puppy come towards her with uncoordinated steps and its tail wagging furiously.

“Max…?” she murmured, picking up the puppy. He licked her cheek as if he knew she needed to break the sadness there.

“I know it doesn’t erase what I said. I know I hurt you, and seeing you like that…” he swallowed. “It was the worst feeling I’ve ever had. You didn’t deserve that, not a single second of it.”

She looked at him. Her eyes were still streaked with the last tears, but now there was a different shine. A sign that she was listening to him. Really.

“I love you,” he continued. “And if you’ll let me, I want to prove it to you every day. This puppy… well, he doesn’t have a name yet. I thought you’d better pick one.”

She bit her lower lip, fighting back tears. “You bought a dog… to make amends?”

“Completely,” he said, unabashed. “Appealing to cuteness was my last resort.”

She gave a weak chuckle, and it was like a breath of fresh air for him.

“He’s beautiful,” she whispered, petting the pup. “But you still owe me at least twenty back rubs and a decent dinner.”

Max smiled, approaching carefully. “Deal. And a hundred more kisses a day. Just in case.”

She laughed finally and let him hug her. The puppy barked in the middle of the hug, squeezed between them.

“We have a new member, then,” she said, looking at the puppy.

“Yes,” Max replied. “And if it’s up to me, it’s the first of many good times. No more stupid fights, okay?”

She nodded, still nestled into his chest.

“So help me choose a name?”

“Sure,” she replied, looking at the little ball of fur that was now sleeping on the rug. “But I can tell you right now that if it’s a male, I’m going to name him Button. In honor of Jenson.”

Max faked a grimace. “Only if the next one is named Verstappen.”

“We’ll see,” she said, smiling. “It depends on how well you do.”

“On the track?” he asked.

She gave a mischievous smile. “In everything.”

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @merinottt @htpssgavi @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[kamochoo]

Can you do a lamine story where his gf is hesitant about him buying her stuff because she doesn’t want people to think she likes him for his money but he reassures her that he actually likes buying her things and will defend her if anybody says anything to her?🫠🫠🫠🫠

All for you

Pairing: Lamine Yamal X gf!reader

Summary: You're dating, and he loves giving you expensive gifts. But lately you've been feeling bad about helping people think you're with him for the money.

Warning: Mention of y/n, fluff

Author's note: I got tired of just black, now I'm using colors similar to the photos, because the black coloring is irritating me because it looks too dark in the photos.

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

Ever since Lamine Yamal started dating her, his life had taken on a new glow. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before—with her, everything felt lighter. More real. But with that came the inevitable complications of having a public relationship, even if they tried to keep it discreet.

That afternoon, he showed up at her house with a mischievous smile and a designer bag in his hand. It was a gift, yet another one, that he had bought with enthusiasm when thinking about her. A delicate necklace, with a small heart-shaped pendant. Something that, in his mind, would have been just a loving gesture. But when she saw it, she hesitated.

"Lamine…" she began, biting her lower lip, without even opening the box yet. "You didn't have to."

He chuckled, coming closer and placing the bag on the coffee table.

"I know I didn't have to. But I wanted to."

She looked away, uncomfortable.

"I just… I'm afraid of what people will think. They'll say I'm with you because of interest… because of your money." Her voice was low, almost a whisper. "I don't want people to think that about me. You know that's not why."

Lamine frowned, moving even closer until he held her face gently between his hands.

"I know," he said firmly, looking into her eyes. "And that's why I'm comfortable giving you the things I do. Because I know you're not with me because of that. I know who you are."

She took a deep breath, moved by the direct way he spoke. But Lamine didn't stop there.

"And if anyone says any shit about you, I'll be there. To defend them. To make it clear that it's my choice to spoil you. Because you deserve it."

She tried to contain her smile, but she couldn't. Lamine was like that—intense in his words, sincere in his feelings. He never did anything halfway.

"I just don't want to be the target of comments," she confessed, calmer now. "Sometimes I'm afraid of what people on the internet say."

"I do too," he said with a shrug. "But I'm more afraid of seeing you deprive yourself of things because of it. So let them talk. We know the truth."

She was silent for a few seconds, then reached for the bag.

"Can I open it?"

"Please, right? Otherwise I'll return it and buy something else tomorrow," he joked, making her laugh.

She opened the box carefully, and her eyes lit up when she saw the necklace. It was beautiful. Simple, but full of meaning. Just like the two of them.

She hugged him tightly, hiding her face in his neck.

"Thank you, Lamine."

"I love you," he murmured.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @merinottt @htpssgavi @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[kamochoo]

we need a jealous lamine fanfic!!!!!!!

JEALOUS BOY

Pairing: Lamine Yamal x Reader

Warnings: fluff, mention of y/n. Jealousy.

Author's notes: Oh Lamine, date me 😭 (my birthday is on the 7th) DON'T TRANSLATE.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

My native language is not English! So if there are spelling mistakes, it's just my bad English and the translator.

The sun from the coast of Barcelona was setting, painting the sky with oranges and roses over the group of friends scattered on the towels. Lamine Yamal, with a wide and carefree smile, had just returned with an ice box full of drinks, distributing them with jokes. You, your girlfriend, watched him with an affection that still felt butterflies in your stomach, even after a few months together.

He bent down to give her a quick and salty kiss from the sea. "How are you, princess?"

"Perfect," you replied, snuggling on your shoulder.

That's when Lucas, a friend of a friend from Lamine's team, arrived. Tall, blond, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. The presentations were brief, and soon the group plunged into a lively volleyball match.

Lamine was a hurricane on the field, agile and competitive, his attention completely absorbed by the game. It was when you moved away to get more sunscreen in your bag, under the parasol, that Lucas appeared.

"Do you need help? This your back is... unprotected," he said, his voice a tone lower than necessary, discreetly blocking his exit.

You forced a smile. "No, thank you. I can do it."

He got closer, ignoring his discomfort. "You know, I saw you and thought: 'How did Lamine, a boy, get a woman like that?' It must be too lucky."

The sentence fell like a bucket of cold water. "He's not a boy. He's my boyfriend," you replied, your voice firm, but the embarrassment burning your face. You looked at Lamine, who was celebrating a point, alien.

In the following moments, whenever Lamine got distracted - helping to fix the net, looking for a ball further away - Lucas appeared. An invasive compliment here, an "accidental" touch on the arm there, a very personal question. You tried to move away, give short answers, but he was persistent. The worst was the look of complicity he threw at the others, as if you two shared a secret, which only increased your discomfort.

Lamine, at first, didn't notice. Until, during a snack, he saw you shrink when Lucas sat very close, under the pretext of passing the juice. Lamine's face closed. A dark cloud passed through his eyes, usually so bright.

On the way back to the towels, he grabbed his hand harder than usualy.

"Are you enjoying the attention?" The question came out rougher than he intended.

You stopped, shocked. "What? Lamine, no."

"I saw him glued to you all the time. And you didn't even move away properly."

The injustice of the prosecution made his eyes burn. "I moved away! He's insistent, and I didn't want to create a mood... You were busy playing."

"Create a climate? So there's a mood?" His voice was loaded with a youthful ferocity, the new and raw jealousy, which he still didn't know how to dose.

The discussion was brief, but cutting. You moved away, sitting alone on the water's edge, feeling small and misunderstood. Lamine stayed behind, ruminating on his own words. He saw your dropped shoulders, the way you hugged your knees, and pride began to fall apart, replaced by a sharp shame. He was wrong. Very wrong. He, who should be her safe haven, had discounted in her the insecurity she had felt when she saw another man invading her space.

He approached and sat on the sand next to him, in silence for a moment. The sound of the waves filled the gap between them.

"I'm an idiot," he said, his voice hoarse, without looking at you. "A complete and selfish idiot."

You didn't say anything.

"I saw you uncomfortable. I saw and ignored it, because what I felt was stronger. It was anger, jealousy... a new thing that scared me. And instead of protecting you, I attacked you." He finally turned his face, and his eyes were sincerely distressed. "You didn't deserve this. You deserved me to ask if you were okay. That I put that asshole in place. I failed. And I'm sorry, really. Forgive me?"

His fury dissolved before his genuine humility. You took your hand. "I'm also sorry for not being clearer. He made me very embarrassed, Lamine. I just wanted it to stop."

He raised his hand and kissed his knuckles. "He's going to stop. I'll guarantee it. And I'll learn to deal with it better. I promise."

The reconciliation was sweet, sealed with a soft kiss that tasted of forgiveness and promise.

The day followed, and the group gathered around an improvised bonfire. Lucas, feeling that the initial tension had passed, saw his chance. While Lamine was talking to another friend, he leaned towards you, who was roasting a marshmallow.

"It looks like I made peace with the prodigy boy, huh?" he whispered, with an air of superiority. "Thank good. Now we can talk without... intermediaries."

Before you could react, a figure got in the way. Lamine was no longer a few meters away. He was there, next to him, and his arm found his shoulder naturally, but his posture was of absolute firmness.

"Lucas," Lamine's voice was calm, clear, cutting through the night air. Everyone stops talking. "I think you misunderstood some things today."

Lucas tried a carefree smile. "What do you mean, Lamito? I was just being friendly."

"No. You were being inconvenient. Persistent. And it made my girlfriend uncomfortable. Several times." Lamine looked at the friends around - Pedro, Ana, Marc, Carla -, people who knew you both. "We don't tolerate this. None of us."

The silence was heavy. Lucas laughed, nervous. "What an exaggeration, man. It's just a joke."

It was Ana who spoke, her voice usually sweet, now firm: "She wasn't laughing, Lucas. We saw it."

"It's true, bro," Pedro added, crossing his arms. "The stop was weird. Better to make sure."

Lucas looked from one to the other, realizing that he had no support. The mask fell, revealing spite. "Oay, then. The boy prodigy club is exclusive. You don't need to be offended."

"It's not a club," Lamine concluded, his natural authority, usually used on the field, taking care of the situation. "It's respect. And here, you haven't shown any. I think you'd better go."

No one moved a finger to stop him. No one protested. Lucas, defeated and embarrassed, took his things and fell, swallowed by the darkness of the beach.

The relief that invaded you was physical, like taking a weight off your shoulders. Lamine turned around, and instead of triumph, his face showed only concern. "Are you okay now?" he asked, just for you.

You nodded, a true smile finally returning to your lips. "Everything. Thank you."

The rest of the night was perfect. The bonfire crackled, the stories flowed, the laughter returned, louder and more genuine. Lamine didn't leave his side, his touch was constant and comforting, not possessive. He had learned, there, in the sand, that protecting was different from arresting. And you had learned that you could count on him, even when he stumbled.

Lying later, with your head on his chest, listening to the sea and your heart beating in unison, you looked at the stars.

"Today was... intense," he murmured.

He kissed your hair. "It was. But in the end, it was good. I learned. And most importantly: you're safe."

Pedro here is not pedri, Ana here is not Ana from gavi and Marc here are none of our marc's! And Lucas was inspired by the idiot asshole who was homophobic with me just for dating a woman

[kamochoo]

Hii can you make a fic with Hector with a reader who moves a lot when she sleeps and hogs the blanket?

↬❥ Early morning crime

Hector Fort x Reader!fem

Synopsis: You're sleeping together, but you end up taking the whole blanket.

a/n: I want to date him 😩

REQUESTED

warnings: fluff

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

The night was silent, and the only light in the room came from the moon outside, which cast a silvery glow through the gaps in the curtains. The wind blew softly, making the window creak slightly. Inside the bed, you slept soundly, curled up under the warm, fluffy blanket, completely oblivious to what was happening next to you.

Hector, on the other hand, was not having the same luck.

He had started the night off well, comfortable beside you, but as the hours passed, something inevitable happened: you took possession of the blanket. At first, it was subtle—a light tug here, a light tug there—until, without him realizing it, you had completely monopolized the only protection against the early morning chill.

Hector groaned softly and tried to pull it back a little, moving carefully so as not to wake you. His fingers gripped the edge of the fabric, and he tugged slowly. It worked… for exactly two seconds. You shifted, turned over, and, almost supernaturally, curled up even tighter into the blanket, as if protecting yourself from a harsh winter.

“Really?” Hector muttered under his breath, staring at you with an incredulous look.

He let out a tired sigh and ran a hand over his face. The room wasn’t absurdly cold, but without the blanket, the temperature seemed to have dropped drastically. Hector tried another approach, pulling a little more firmly. But all he managed to do was make you mumble something incomprehensible in your sleep and cling to the blanket even tighter.

“This can only be a test of patience…” he said to himself, closing his eyes for a moment.

Could he get up and get another blanket from the closet? He could. But that would require him to get out of his warm bed and onto the cold floor. So he simply crossed his arms and huddled together as best he could, hoping that his own body heat would be enough.

Hours later, in the middle of the night, you slowly woke up, for no apparent reason. Your body moved reflexively, seeking Hector's familiar warmth. It was only then that you realized something was... strange.

When her hand touched his arm, a shiver ran down his spine.

He was freezing.

You frowned, fully waking up. Moving carefully, you turned to face him and, even in the dark, you could see that he was huddled together, his arms crossed over his chest, as if trying to protect himself from the cold.

Shock and guilt hit immediately.

“Hector!” you whispered, touching his face with your fingertips.

He shifted slightly, letting out a sleepy mumble.

“Hm?”

“You’re freezing! Why didn’t you wake me up?”

Hector opened one eye, clearly still groggy from sleep, and let out a tired sigh.

“Because you’re a blanket monster…”

Your eyes widened, feeling the guilt rising. With a heavy heart, you quickly pulled the blanket over him, making sure to wrap him completely.

“Oh my God, honey, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize…”

He closed his eyes again and sighed in relief as he felt the warmth of the blanket finally covering his body.

“Now it’s over… I almost froze to death…” he joked, although his voice was thick with sleep.

You bit your lip, still feeling guilty. With one quick movement, you snuggled against him, wrapping your arms around his body and burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“I’m your human blanket now. Is that better?”

Hector didn't respond immediately, but his arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her even closer.

“Much better…” he murmured, his voice low and satisfied.

You smiled against his skin and closed your eyes, feeling the warmth finally return to Hector's body.

This time, I would make a point of sharing the blanket.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @p4uul0vr @nngkay @meganesanchez @bymerinott @htpssgavi @luvvpedri

[kamochoo]

HIII i love all you’re stories and i’m so happy you wrote that one about lamine but i was wondering if you could write another one where his little brother loves the reader and lamine gets a little jealous because his brother keeps clinging to the reader and stuff and it’s mostly just fluff and funny moments you don’t have to but if you could that would be amazing thank you for you’re time❤️❤️❤️

Little rival

Pairing: Lamine Yamal X gf!reader

Summary: You are Lamine's girlfriend, but his younger brother really likes you.

Warning: Just Lamine being a cute and jealous boyfriend<3

Author's note: THEY ARE SO CUTE TOGETHER 😭😭😭😭

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

It was supposed to be just another quiet afternoon at the Yamal house. The reader was sitting on the living room couch, laughing while watching cartoons with Keyne, Lamine's little brother, who was basically glued to her as if they had been best friends forever.

“Do you want more juice, sweetie?” she asked affectionately, running her hand over the boy’s head.

“I want it! Apple!” he replied, his eyes shining.

Lamine, who was leaning against the door with his arms crossed, watched the scene with a crooked smile. It was cute, sure. But it was also kind of annoying. Ever since the reader had started showing up more often at the house, Keyne seemed to have completely forgotten that he, Lamine, was her older brother and boyfriend. Now, she belonged to Keyne—or at least that’s what the little boy thought.

“And you’re not even going to give me a kiss hello?” Lamine asked, an eyebrow raised.

The reader looked at him over her shoulder, laughing.

“Oh, sorry, love. I was kidnapped by a very affectionate mini Yamal,” she joked, stretching out her arms towards him.

Lamine came closer, and when he bent down to kiss her, Keyne made a loud sound of protest and pushed his brother's face away with his little hand.

“She’s my girlfriend!” he complained, sulking.

“Your what?” Lamine’s eyes widened, laughing nervously. “Hey, calm down, shorty. This is MY girlfriend, you hear?”

“You have the ball. I have it.” Keyne crossed his arms with a gigantic pout.

The reader burst out laughing, and Lamine threw his head back, as if he were losing to his greatest rival in life: a 5-year-old boy with brilliant arguments.

Later, while playing a board game, Keyne refused to sit far from the reader. He would sit on her lap, hold her hand while he played, and even make her hold his water.

“This is emotional sabotage,” Lamine muttered to her, his eyes narrowed as he watched his brother take a small piece of biscuit from her hand.

“Don’t be dramatic, Lam. He loves you too,” she replied, trying to hold back her laughter.

“He wants to steal my wife!” he whispered back, scandalized.

At the end of the night, when Keyne finally fell asleep on the reader's lap, clinging to her arm, Lamine carefully approached and sat down next to them. He looked at the scene with a smile that was half defeated, but completely enchanted.

“I officially lost to a brat,” he said quietly.

She laughed, leaning against his shoulder affectionately.

“Never. But I guess you’ll have to share me… at least until he grows up.”

“Great,” Lamine snorted. “Then I want more kisses when he’s not looking. That much, at least.”

"Done."

And with that, he stole a quick kiss, before Keyne opened his eye and screamed "NO!", as if he were protecting his queen from the dragons — or, in this case, the jealous older brother.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @merinottt @htpssgavi @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando