lamine Yamal seeing not regular edits of reader but FREAKY edits of reader pop up on his fyp
EDITS OF YOU - l. yamal
inwhich! you catch your boyfriend, lamine yamal, watching something and trying to hide it, only for it to be thirst trap edits of you.
frannytalks! based off of this edit here!! this is so very short, didn’t know if you wanted it to be smut or not! also sending love to modric & croatia rn!! ☹️ thank you so much for all the support, i see your messages and comments! don’t forget to join my taglist(s) here!
lamine had always been one to support you and your fans. whenever he’d see anything of you pop up on his fyp or feed that was positive he’d send you it immediately.
today, you were making dinner for lamine after a friendly he had earlier. you were making steak with seasoned veggies on the side, he had tiktok blaring off in the background. although, you didn’t mind because occasionally a funny video or a sound you liked would come on.
you were cutting some carrots into small pieces when you kept hearing the sound “i’m good, i kick it back and i’m good.” play over and over again.
you recognized the sound, knowing it was usually used for thirst traps and provocative videos. you bit your bottom lip, furrowing your eyebrows, not knowing if you should turn around and ask what he’s watching or if you were making a big deal out of nothing.
“lamine, what are you watching baby?” you asked, still turned around and cutting the carrots.
he immediately paused the video, “uh, nothing amor.”
“hm.” you said, not believing him, “show me then.”
“amor.” he sighed, slightly laughing to himself.
“lamine.” you said, turning around, pouting.
“no es nada importante, te lo prometo.” (it’s not anything important, i promise you) he says, sitting up and turning his phone off.
you set the knife down and walk over to him, he grabs both your arms with his hands, “y/n, come on.”
“just show me.” you say, fighting back, but it wasn’t working at all.
“it wasn’t anything!” he says, nervously smiling and you noticed his face getting red.
“lamine, don’t lie.” you say, pushing your body weight onto him, causing him to fall back and let go on your arms, you took the opportunity to snatch his phone.
you got up, running to the island to unlock his phone.
“y/n, porfa.” (y/n, please.) lamine pleaded, chasing you around.
you unlocked it, expecting to see a thirst edit of some other girl, only to see it’s of you and some of your concert clips. you felt your face heat up.
you look up to lamine who’s now sitting on a stool, the opposite side of the island with his head in his hands. “lamine,” you say trying to to smile, but you fail.
“stop laughing, y/n.” lamine sighed once more, sinking deeper into his hands.
“did you like the show?” you grin, walking closer to him, “maybe i can put one on for you right now?”
he instantly snapped his head up, nodding his head up and down. you let out a few giggles, rubbing his arms. “i didn’t know you liked my outfits this much.”
“you look beautiful baby, always.” he says, giving you a kiss on the lips.
“follow me.” you wink, letting go of his arm and walking to your shared bedroom.
₊⊹ contains: long-term boyfriend!jobe, angst, established relationship, uncertainty, emotional conversations, hurt/comfort, lots of yearning, fluff at the end
₊⊹ summary: after building a life together in sunderland, you and jobe are suddenly forced to confront what happens when his football career takes him somewhere you never expected.
requested!!
you'd always known football could change everything. you just hadn't realized it could happen so quickly.
for years, football had been this constant thing in your relationship with jobe. it had always been there. weekends disappeared because of matches. evenings were sometimes taken over by training. holidays were planned around fixtures.
you'd learned to accept the occasional cancelled date, the late night drives home, the messages that simply read "training ran late, sorry love."
you never minded.
because jobe had been your person long before football started becoming something bigger. you'd been together for years. long enough that you'd stopped remembering what your life looked like before him. long enough that your clothes had slowly migrated into his wardrobe. long enough that there were photos of you everywhere in his apartment. long enough that you'd stopped saying your apartment and started saying ours.
you'd moved to sunderland a few months ago. it hadn't been some grand decision. it had just made sense. jobe was there. you loved him. you had work you could do remotely, and after years of constantly travelling between places, you wanted somewhere that felt like home.
so you'd packed your things, left your old bedroom, said goodbye to your family, and moved into jobe's apartment.
the first night you'd slept there, you'd been lying beneath his duvet with your head against his chest when he'd whispered,
"feels weird."
you'd looked up. "what does?"
"having you here."
you'd smiled. "bad weird?"
he'd shaken his head immediately. "no. good weird." his fingers had played absentmindedly with your hair. "just feels like this is actually ours now."
you'd kissed his cheek. "it is."
he'd smiled. "good."
you'd thought that was how things would stay. you'd wake up beside him. make coffee together. argue about what to watch. go grocery shopping. wait for him to come home from training. cook dinner. fall asleep together. repeat. simple. comfortable. yours.
until dortmund came into the picture.
you'd noticed something was wrong before jobe even told you. he'd been quieter. more distracted. his phone seemed to be constantly in his hand. whenever you asked what was going on, he'd smile and say, "nothing." you'd known him too long to believe that.
one evening, you were sitting on the sofa with your legs tucked underneath you, watching something on tv. jobe had barely spoken for twenty minutes. eventually, you paused the show.
"okay."
he looked over. "what?"
"what's wrong?"
"nothing."
"jobe."
he sighed. you waited. he rubbed his palms over his face.
"i've got something to tell you."
your stomach dropped. "okay."
he looked at you. "there's been interest."
you frowned. "from who?"
"dortmund."
you went completely still. "borussia dortmund?"
he nodded. "yeah."
you stared at him. "oh."
"yeah."
the room suddenly felt different. you'd known this could happen. you'd known clubs would come eventually. you'd known his career wasn't going to stay in one place forever. but knowing something intellectually was very different from having it sitting between you and the person you loved.
"when?"
"they've been talking for a little while."
you swallowed. "and you didn't tell me?"
"i wanted to know where it was going first."
"why?"
he looked down. "because i didn't want to worry you."
you laughed quietly. "jobe, i'm your girlfriend."
"i know."
"we live together."
"i know."
"so you don't have to protect me from things like this."
he nodded. "you're right."
you looked at him. "do you want to go?"
his silence was enough.
your chest tightened. "you do."
"yeah."
you looked away. "okay."
"y/n—"
"no, it's okay." you forced a smile. "it's good."
he frowned. "you don't have to pretend."
"i'm not."
"you are."
you shook your head. "i'm proud of you."
"i know."
"and if this is what you want..." you paused. "...i'll support you."
he moved closer. "but?"
you looked at him. "but i don't know where that leaves me."
his expression immediately softened. "with me."
you swallowed. "you don't know that."
"yes, i do."
"jobe, it's another country."
"i know."
"it's not like you're moving across town."
"i know."
"and i can't just assume that my whole life can move whenever your career does."
he nodded slowly. "i know."
you looked at him. "so what are we actually talking about?"
he didn't answer immediately, because neither of you knew.
the next few weeks were horrible. not because you were fighting. somehow, that would've been easier. instead, you were both trying to act normal. you still cooked together. still watched tv. still went to bed beside each other. but everything felt temporary.
boxes appeared around the apartment. meetings happened. calls came in. jobe started spending more time talking to people about the move. you tried not to listen.
one evening, you were folding laundry. jobe was packing. you picked up one of his shirts. it was the one he'd worn the first night you'd officially moved in. you remembered it because you'd stolen it almost immediately.
you held it for a moment. "you want this?"
jobe looked over. "yeah."
you folded it, placed it into the suitcase.
he watched you. "you okay?"
"yeah."
"you're quiet."
"i'm thinking."
"about?"
you shrugged. "everything."
he sat on the edge of the bed. "come here."
you shook your head. "i need to finish."
"y/n."
you sighed, put the clothes down, then sat beside him.
he took your hand. "talk to me."
you stared at your fingers. "i'm scared."
his thumb brushed across your knuckles. "me too."
you looked at him. "you are?"
"of course."
"you seem fine."
"because i don't know what else to do."
your eyes filled. "what if long distance doesn't work?"
he looked at you. "then we'll work harder."
"what if we're different?"
"we'll figure it out."
"what if you meet someone?"
his eyebrows furrowed. "why would you even say that?"
"because you're going to a new country."
"and?"
"new people."
"so?"
"jobe."
he turned towards you fully. "i'm not looking for anyone else."
you looked down. "you can't promise me we'll never change."
"no." he was honest. "i can't."
your heart sank.
"but i can promise you that i'll choose you."
you looked at him.
"even when it's hard." his voice cracked slightly. "especially when it's hard."
you couldn't hold yourself together anymore. you leaned into him. he wrapped both arms around you. and for the first time since he'd told you about dortmund... you cried. really cried.
he held you through it, his chin rested on your head. "i'm sorry."
you shook your head. "don't be."
"i don't want you hurting."
"i know."
"i hate that i'm the reason you are."
you pulled away. "you're not the reason." you wiped your face. "your dream isn't something i should make you feel guilty for."
he stared at you. "you'd really come with me?"
you hesitated. "i don't know."
"okay."
"i want to."
he waited.
"but i'm scared of moving again."
he nodded. "i understand."
"i just finally made this place feel like home."
he looked around the apartment. "yeah."
you smiled sadly. "and now we're packing it into boxes."
he squeezed your hand. "wherever you are..." he paused. "...that's home to me."
you looked at him. "that's such a cheesy thing to say."
he laughed softly. "i know."
you smiled through your tears. "but i like it."
eventually, the decision came. jobe was going. the move was happening. you had to decide what you were doing. your family wanted you to come home. your friends thought you should stay. some told you to move with him. others told you not to put your life on hold. everyone had an opinion. except the one person you actually needed to hear from. jobe.
one night, you sat together on the floor surrounded by half packed boxes.
"i don't want you to come because you're scared of losing me."
you looked at him. "i'm not."
"i need you to choose what makes you happy."
you swallowed. "what if what makes me happy is you?"
"then come with me."
"and if it doesn't?"
"then don't."
your eyes filled again. "you make this sound so easy."
"it's not easy."
he reached for your hand. "it's the hardest thing i've ever had to think about."
"then why are you so calm?"
"because i don't want you to sacrifice yourself for me."
you stared at him.
he squeezed your hand. "i love you too much for that."
you leaned forward, rested your forehead against his. "i hate you."
he smiled. "why?"
"because you make me love you more."
he laughed quietly. "can't help that."
you smiled. "idiot."
"your idiot."
you didn't decide that night. or the next. but eventually, you did. you were going with him. not because you had to. not because you were afraid he'd leave... but because you wanted to see where your life could go. with him.
the move happened quickly after that. the apartment became emptier every day. your favorite mug disappeared into a box. the photos came off the walls. your blanket was folded away. the place that had once felt so full slowly became bare.
the final night was the hardest. you sat on the floor in the empty living room. jobe sat beside you.
"remember when you moved in?"
you smiled. "you cried."
"i did not."
"you did."
"i was emotional."
"you cried."
he laughed. "okay."
you leaned against him. "i'm going to miss this place."
"me too."
"but..." you looked at him. "i'm excited."
his smile appeared. "yeah?"
"yeah."
he kissed your forehead. "me too."
the first night in dortmund was strange. new apartment. new streets. new language. new life.
but when you woke up, jobe was beside you. his arm was around your waist. sunlight was coming through unfamiliar curtains. you turned towards him. he was still asleep. you smiled.
maybe home wasn't a place. maybe it was a person.
later that morning, jobe woke up. "good morning."
you smiled. "morning."
he pulled you closer. "you okay?"
you nodded. "yeah."
"regret it?"
you smiled. "not yet."
he laughed. "that's good."
you kissed his cheek. "ask me again in a month."
"fair." he rested his forehead against yours. "thank you."
"for what?"
"coming with me."
you smiled. "i didn't come because you asked."
"i know."
"i came because i wanted to."
he smiled. "i know."
you wrapped your arms around him. "we'll figure it out."
he hugged you tighter. "together."
and suddenly, the uncertainty didn't feel quite as terrifying. because you didn't know what the next year would look like. you didn't know how hard the distance from home would become. you didn't know how football would change jobe's life. you didn't know what you'd have to sacrifice or what you'd gain. but you knew one thing. you'd made a choice, and so had he.
you weren't staying because you were afraid to leave. you weren't leaving because you were afraid to stay. you were simply choosing each other. and for now... that was enough.
pure fluff, suggestive, foodplay mentioned if u blink ;-;
Boyfriend!Jobe who playfully messes up your clothes with flour, leaving powdery handprints on your thighs, chest and ass.
Boyfriend!Jobe who lets you spray whipped cream in his tongue even though he already knows you would miss purposely and get it around his mouth.
Boyfriend!Jobe who lets you lick and suck the cookie dough off his fingers. He loves the warmth of your mouth around his finger and doesn’t want to pull away. It kinda makes his stomach flutter… is that a normal thing?
Boyfriend!Jobe who takes turns with you rolling out the dough. His arms wrapping around waist when it’s your turn.
Boyfriend!Jobe who tries to throw dark chocolate chips at your mouth while you two wait for the cookies to rise in the oven.
Boyfriend!Jobe who gate keeps the cookies from you when they’re finished, keeping them out of your reach so you won’t be able to eat them.
summary: everyone’s convinced that y/n’s dating jude, but turns out, it’s the other bellingham brother - requested.
jude bellingham uploaded to his story!
REPLIES
y/n: u look dumb
-> judebellingham: thx, looks inspired by you ☺️
-> y/n: lose my number
jobebellingham: congrats mate!!
-> judebellingham: cheers lad, tell your girlfriend to pattern up.
-> jobebellingham: No
trent: 😂
-> judebellingham: oi whats funny
user1: is this a hint to y/n…. 👀
y/n
liked by judebellingham, jobebellingham, trent, zaralarsson and 3.6 million others
caption: looking like someone’s trophy girlfriend 😮💨🏆
user1: ughhhh motherrrrr 😩
user2: so… anyone else see jude posted with a trophy yesterday? no? just me…okay 👀
-> user3: they’re definitely dating
-> user4: what’s stopping her from dating him 😏
-> y/n: self respect
-> judebellingham: 😀😀
jobebellingham: 🤩🤩
-> user5: commenting on his sister-in-law’s post
-> user6: her post could literally be about him, he posted his own trophy too
-> user7: why would she date jobe, though? she could easily pull jude and he’s richer and more popular….
-> user8: that’s such a weird thing to say btw
morning sunlight spilled through the gap in the curtains, painting soft golden lights across the duvet.
jobe had been awake for the last ten minutes, with absolutely no plans on getting out of bed.
y/n was tucked impossibly close against him, one arm lazily draped across his waist, her cheek resting just beneath his collarbone.
he found himself absentmindedly running his fingers through the ends of her hair, watching as sunlight bounced off of it.
y/n made the smallest sound in her sleep, nose scrunching for barely a second before settling again.
jobe’s phone buzzed on the table as he reached for it slowly, stretching just enough to grab it without disturbing her.
the screen lit up immediately, flashing an instagram notification at him.
y/n’s post, as usual, was the first on his feed.
she’d looked gorgeous at her event last night, the gold jacket she’d been wearing now thrown over a chair along with the rest of her clothes.
it was safe to say, jobe had definitely enjoyed that look last night.
he smiled to himself. he liked the caption.
that was, until, his eyes drifted past it, and down to the comments.
almost every single one was about jude.
the story makes sense now!!
they’re actually so cute together
jude hard launch??
his eyebrows pulled together as he scrolled down, all the comments regurgitating some variation of the other ones.
mrs bellingham??
jobe sighed quietly. technically true, just not the brother they thought.
“what’s got you s’frowny so early?”
jobe looked down. he hadn’t even registered she was awake, sleep clinging to y/n’s every word, eyes still closed.
she’d shifted to nuzzle closer to him, one hand on his chest, tracing patterns against his hot skin.
“morning,” he murmured, turning his phone off and tossing it to the other side of the bed.
a sleepy hum.
“you wake?”
“mhm,” she mumbled again, her cheek still pressed to his chest, his heartbeat thumping softly beneath her ear.
“you don’t sound very sure,”
“i’m deciding,”
“on?”
“if opening my eyes is worth it,”
jobe snorted, lips twitching into a small smile. even half-asleep, she still managed to make him laugh.
“and?”
“not yet,”
silence settled between them, not awkward, but comfortable. the sort of silence that didn’t need filling.
jobe grabbed his phone again, holding it above them.
“they all think you’re dating jude,”
that got one eye open,
“…what?”
jobe angled the screen towards her as she blinked slowly, taking a few seconds for the words to properly register.
he watched as she read comment after comment, eyebrows knitting together before a small smile appear on her lips.
“you’ve been reading these?”
“for a while,”
“you’ve wound yourself up,”
y/n’s fingers reached up, letting her fingertips linger against his temple before dropping down to his jaw.
“they don’t know,” she whispered.
“i know,”
“they’re just guessing,”
“i know,”
her hand drifted up again, resting lightly against his cheek, jobe’s hand moving up to rest on top of hers, leaning into her touch.
“it doesn’t matter what they think,” she said firmly, looking up slightly as he hummed. half of him wanted to agree with her, that he was acting jealous and possessive.
but the other half, the other half hated it.
jobe hated scrolling through hundreds of comments talking about his own brother, when she’d spent the night with him.
sometimes he found himself imagining if she had dated jude instead, like the comments thought.
the thought hurt.
“it does matter a bit,”
“jobe…”
“they’re all sat there saying how good you and jude look together,” he let out a quiet breath, shaking his head, “an’ i can’t even say they’re wrong,”
“kiss me,”
his brows pinched together slightly, confused.
“what?”
“i said kiss me,”
y/n didn’t give him a chance to question it, before she lifted herself Judy enough to close the distance between them.
her lips found his in a slow, sleepy kiss as he hummed into her mouth, his hand finding the side of her face instinctively, thumb brushing against her cheek.
they only pulled back when they both needed air, y/n’s cheek resting comfortably on his chest.
“I’ve never looked at jude the way i look at you,”
his heart squeezed.
“i’ve ever wanted to wake up next to jude,” she paused again, “and i’ve definitely never kissed jude,”
that finally earned the smile y/n had been waiting for.
“you make me sound needy,” jobe hummed, letting her pull him into a soft kiss again.
“you are needy,”
“just want everyone to know you’re mine,” he let out a breath, pressing a kiss to her lips again after.
“they will know,” y/n whispered, “when we’re ready,”
their lips met again, moving in tandem against each other, soft and slow, no urgency behind the movement.
“should we get up?” she pulled back, eyes flicking to the alarm clock on the side. almost midday.
before she even had a chance to mention it, jobe moved, his arms caging her in against the mattress as she gasped.
“not a chance,”
jude’s house had always been loud.
not because there were loads of people round, but because someone was always talking.
usually jude.
or y/n.
the two of them had discovered very quickly that winding each other up was a lot more entertaining than acting like adults, leaving jobe to watch in slight confusion and amusement.
“you’re unbelievable,” jude shook his head as he returned from the kitchen.
“what’ve i done now?” y/n looked up innocently from where she was curled into the corner of the sofa.
“you’ve eaten all the biscuits,”
“i’ve had two,”
he let out an exaggerated sigh, setting down the mugs of hot chocolate down onto the coffee table.
jobe shrugged, one arm still slung lazily around y/n’s shoulders.
“i’ve learnt not to argue,”
y/n nodded approvingly, leaning comfortably against his side as his hand traced gently patterns just under the hem of her skirt.
“you’re both a nightmare,”
“yet you invited us,”
“started to regret it,”
a quiet laugh escaped y/n as she reached forwards for her mug.
a comfortable silence settled over them for a second as jude checked his phone, y/n’s finger tracing patterns on the back of jobe’s hand.
a few minutes passed, before a snort broke the silence.
“what?” y/n looked over.
jude turned the screen towards them, unable to hide the grin spreading across his face.
“the comments are getting worse,”
“they’re still going?”
countless comments under jude’s latest post, almost every single one mentioning y/n in some sort of way.
y/n couldn’t help the smile on her face.
it was ridiculous, really.
jude snickered too, scrolling further down, an amused smile on his face as he looked to jobe, only to see that he was very much not laughing.
he lowered his hand slowly, dropping his phone onto the sofa.
“you lot aren’t funny,” jobe pulled his arm from round y/n, pushing himself off the sofa towards the kitchen.
y/n swallowed for a second. even jude, who usually had a hard time shutting up, had gone quiet.
“shit,” he muttered.
“shit,” she echoed his word, watching as jobe disappeared into the kitchen.
she hadn’t ever thought about just how hurtful it would be for jobe, reading the comments almost every day about how jude probably treats y/n so well.
she followed him into the kitchen a few minutes later.
jobe was by the sink, scrubbing at the same plate he’d been cleaning for the past ten minutes, every one of those comments running through his mind.
“baby?”
he didn’t look up.
“are you okay?”
“fine,”
one word answers from jobe were never good. y/n swallowed, stepping closer.
“jobe-,”
“y’seemed comfortable with jude inside,” he paused, “just go back to him,”
“jobe, no, that’s not what that was,” y/n’s eyes widened. he’d always been possessive of her, and she loved it. but to ever insinuate she’d have feelings for his own brother was beyond her.
“looked like it,”
y/n paused for a second. “jobe, look at me,”
he didn’t move.
“baby, please,” she took his hand, as he finally placed the plate into the rack, arms folded across his chest, “talk to me,”
jobe’s gaze moved everywhere but on her, before he finally sighed.
“‘m sick of those comments, y/n,” he dropped his arms to the side, “i know we’re keepin’ it to a secret cuz we’re not ready but…i dont like the idea of you and jude,”
“baby, you know that’d never happen,” she stepped forwards, taking his hands into hers, “‘m yours and yours only,”
jobe sighed.
it felt stupid, to be this jealous of something he knew wasn’t even true.
“i know,”
“so?”
“just want everyone else t’know too,”
“if you want that, then we can make it happen, okay? i’ll make a post,” y/n smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
“you’re the best, y’know that?” he wrapped his arm right round her waist, deepening the kiss.
she hummed into his mouth, arms round his neck.
his tongue pushed against her lower lip, pulling her body impossibly closed, arms tight round her waist. she could feel the heat radiating off of him as their lips moved in a slow, steady rhythm-
“not in my kitchen, you nasty shits,” jude smacked his brother on the back of the neck with a towel as they jumped apart.
“alright- alright, i get it!” jobe threw his arms over his face to protect himself as y/n laughed, hiding behind her boyfriend.
“disgusting!”
y/n
liked by jobebellingham, judebellingham, trent and 7.8 million others
caption: y’all had the right family i guess 😭
jobebellingham: gorgeous girl ❤️
-> user1: THEYRE SO CUTEEEEEE!!
-> user2: ho wasn’t u saying how she was dating jude 😭
-> y/n: 🫶🏾
judebellingham: right.
-> y/n: delete your account
-> judebellingham: why
-> y/n: shits and giggles, idk, stop asking questions
jaafarjackson: congrats!!
-> y/n: get outta here unc 😭 when’s part two coming out
-> jaafarjackson: never 😕
Stiles doesn’t really stop talking. There is always something to say, always something to get distracted by, even when he’s bouta get laid. But Derek is a good multitasker, somewhat listening AND making sure things are moving along, you know? Cause he loves Stiles and and and he’s horny.
“Hmm, really?” while he’s undressing Stiles.
“That’s interesting,” while he’s getting them to the bed.
“That is a fun fact,” right before he goes down on him.
“Do kanimas have scaly dicks. I don’t know, Stiles,” while he gets the lube and helps Stiles to his hands and knees. “No, I’m not gonna call Jackson and ask.”
“Yeah, I think you would be pretty as a wolf,” when he’s getting him open and ready.
Stiles’ words only die out when Derek finally pushes inside, his mind shutting off for a bit as Derek fills him up and wraps his body tightly around him.
It doesn’t take very long for that brilliant mouth to start moving again, but as long as Derek is fucking him into the mattress, Stiles can only really gasp and moan and make pretty noises that make Derek smile into his shoulder.
You are Lamine's girlfriend, but his younger brother really likes you.
LOST | @ange1archive
lost alone in barcelona you ask a stranger for directions — only for him to assume you are a fan asking for a photo, even though you don’t even recognize him.
Dreaming Of You | @halfwayhearted
Spending time with your boyfriend was always a plus, spending time with your boyfriend’s family is even better.
The Girl He Sees | @andy-15-07
Mine | @paucubarsisimp
in which lamine loves that his family likes you but that also means that lamine barely gets to be with you when you're at his house
CELEBRITY CRUSH | @47foden
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.
GOODNIGHT KISSES | @/47foden
kenye catches you giving lamine “goodnight kisses” and asks for some of his own.
STILL NOT CONVINCED | @/47foden
you’re a famous madridista and have been secretly and rumored to be dating lamine yamal. only to get caught after months of hiding it.
FIRST TIME MEETING | @/47foden
lamine yamal tells the story on live television of how you two first met, four years ago at an event, when you two were just 16 years old.
BABYSITTER | @/47foden
you babysit the kid of your moms friend, only to realize he is the younger brother of a rising star while snooping around the house.
WINNER | @dixheuresdix
he wants a date at midnight because he won la liga.
OH, SHE’S FRENCH | @/dixheuresdix
lamine is in love with you and he's trying to get your attention by doing more or less ridiculous things… spoiler alert: it’s working.
Spiral Mess | @mariafics
As they were getting ready for a family dinner, Lamine has a curly hair crisis.
No More Wisdom | @/mariafics
Lamine getting his wisdom teeth removed has got to be the funniest (and cutest) thing to be witnessed.
Lilies and Finals | @/mariafics
Lamine is trying his best to be there for his girl while she studies for her finals.
Tempted to Touch | @adorhees
lamine can’t get enough of you
come on and cha cha cha with me. | @nepoxyy-s
your boyfriend of 4years invite you over to get bored together.
Curly hair Routine. | @/nepoxyy-s
lamine yamal, your boyfriend ask you to do his curl because he find yours so perfect
barca’s golden boy | @felixsgirl
you share a quiet morning with lamine after his world cup match.
SYNOPSIS. lost alone in barcelona you ask a stranger for directions — only for him to assume you are a fan asking for a photo, even though you don’t even recognize him.
GENRE. fluff. meet cute?
WORDS. 2.1k
WARNINGS. lamine being cocky. not proofread. use of y/n
visiting barcelona has always been a point on your bucket list. something you’ve dreamed of crossing off for years. so when your best friends suggested a girls’ trip to the city, you were overjoyed.
now, standing alone in some narrow alley, that joy feels far away.
this street is quieter than the others you’ve walked. less crowded than the bustling subway stations or lively avenues of the city center. the buzz of barcelona fades here, although you can still hear faint conversations in catalan and the soft hum of a spanish song playing from an apartment window above.
the alley is barely wide enough for two people to pass between the old stone buildings. the walls on either side are a patchwork of weathered stone, rough and sun-warmed, worn smooth in places by time and touch.
overhead, clotheslines stretch between balconies like festive bunting, draped with fluttering linen and colorful shirts that catch the welcome breeze.
beside you is a café, the air thick with the warm scent of espresso, baked pastries, and something faintly sweet. vanilla, maybe, or cinnamon drifting from the open door. the hum of conversation spills out, soft and layered, in a blend of languages you half recognize.
it’s a cozy little café, you think, making a mental note to come back here with your friends. if you ever find them again.
you don’t even remember how you lost them. one minute, you were all together. the next — poof. gone. you’re left alone. just great.
you’re not someone who panics easily, but right now, you want nothing more than to cry. lost in a city you don’t know, and you don’t even speak the language. you know very little spanish, but catalan? a whole different story.
you try calling your friends again, only to go straight to voicemail. your texts won’t even deliver. maybe their phones are dead, just like yours will be soon.
you recalled wanting to go to a restaurant you’d picked the night before, hoping your friends had gone ahead without you. so you tried finding it via maps, but after wandering around aimlessly for over an hour and somehow ending up back in the same alley you stood in an hour ago, you gave up.
squinting up at the street signs, you rotate your phone in your hand for the third time. everything looks the same. cobbled streets, flower-draped balconies, cozy cafés. barcelona is beautiful, yes, but when your signal’s gone and your battery’s at 5%, the charm fades fast.
you let out a frustrated breath and turn in a slow circle, scanning your surroundings and trying to find something familiar.
“great,” you mutter. “totally, completely lost.”
breathe, y/n, breathe. you’re going to find them. you try to convince yourself, even if it barely works.
what’s your best option now? probably asking someone local, but the thought alone makes you shiver. with your pride being too big, you’d rather do anything than admit you need help. but pride won’t get you anywhere right now, since it’s the last chance you have.
so, you scan the street, searching for someone who looks approachable. maybe a nice elderly woman, not too old — maybe even someone your age.
that’s when you notice him.
tall, brown-eyed, with a boyish grin. he’s just stepped out of a small shop you hadn’t noticed before. his hair, bleach blonde, sticks to his forehead, damp from the warm weather. he’s got a hoodie up and sunglasses on, despite the cloudy sky.
something about him seems familiar, but you don’t focus on that. you just need directions.
you approach slowly, thinking through your options. should you ask in your broken spanish? or rather english? what if he doesn’t understand either? well, catalan is out of the question. you settle on english as being the best option.
“excuse me?” you ask, gathering your courage.
the boy looks up from his phone, surprised at first. then his expression shifts to slightly annoyed. rude.
“ah, vols una foto?” he asks.
“huh?”
“¿quiere una foto o un autógrafo?” he asks again.
you blink and reply, dumbfounded by the stranger’s questions. “i’m sorry, i don’t speak catalan or spanish. english?”
he sighs but switches languages. “i asked if you want a photo or an autograph.”
what the actual hell? you think. what have i gotten myself into? who is this weird boy thinking he’s some celebrity?
“a photo? why would i want that?”
now it’s his turn to look dumbfounded and slightly embarrassed.
“oh. sorry. i thought you were a fan.”
you raise an eyebrow. his ego must be huge.
now that you’re taking a closer look at him, you kind of get the feeling that you’ve seen him before. still, you don’t recognize him. maybe he was someone your friend had shown you as one of her many celebrity crushes?
“uh, no. actually, i just wanted to ask how i can get to carrer de blai? i’m completely lost,” you say, holding up your phone awkwardly.
his eyebrows shoot up. “wait, you really don’t want a photo? you don’t know who i am?”
you tilt your head. “no? are you famous or something?”
he laughs. “no — forget it. what were you asking again?”
you repeat the street name.
“oh yeah, alright. it’s not far. just walk straight until you reach plaça de sant jaume, the square with the city hall and the generalitat building. then turn right onto carrer de joaquín costa and follow it downhill. after a few blocks, you’ll reach carrer de blai. turn left, and you’re there.”
he gestures with his hands to help you visualize the route.
although he speaks slowly to help you follow, it’s still hard to remember all the directions, so you’re already overwhelmed.
“could you repeat that? i’m not sure i got all of it.”
he chuckles. “carrer de blai is like ten minutes that way. i can walk you there if you want.”
“are you sure? i don’t want to bother you.”
“it’s alright. i’m not really busy. i’m lamine, by the way.”
lamine. that sounds familiar… but you still don’t quite place him.
you start walking side by side in easy silence. he keeps his hood up, not nervously — just low-key.
“so,” he says eventually, glancing over at you, “what brings you to barcelona? shopping? sightseeing? or just… wandering until your phone dies?”
you groan. “ha ha, very funny. the last one, unfortunately. no, actually i came here on a girls’ trip but i lost my friends like an hour ago. i was trying to find this restaurant we picked for lunch, figured they’d be there, but maps was zero help.”
he nods slowly, walking a bit ahead before glancing over his shoulder. “yeah, the signal gets weird in these side streets.”
you both fall into step again, your footsteps echoing lightly on the cobblestones.
you let out a breath, thumb swiping across your phone screen again. still no signal. still barely any battery. you hold it up hopelessly like the sky might magically fix it.
“i think my phone’s about to give up,” you mutter, checking the screen again. “no signal. two percent.”
lamine glances over. “want to use mine? you can try calling your friends.”
you hesitate, surprised by the offer. “seriously?”
he nods and digs into the front pocket of his hoodie, handing you his phone.
“yeah. go ahead.”
you dial your friend’s number, pressing the phone to your ear. it rings. once. twice. then—
“hello?!”
you nearly sag in relief. “oh my god, where have you been?”
“where have you been? we’ve been looking everywhere!” your friend says, breathless. “your phone’s off!”
“yeah, it’s basically dead,” you explain. “i’ve been trying to find the restaurant, but i got totally turned around. i think i’m close now, though.”
“we’re already there. let’s just meet at the restaurant.”
“okay. i’ll be there in ten.”
you hang up and hand lamine his phone back with a grateful look. “thank you so much.”
you glance at him from the corner of your eye. he’s looking ahead, sunglasses still on despite the shadowy street. he doesn’t seem in a rush.
still, guilt tugs at your chest.
“i’m really not keeping you from anything, am i?” you ask suddenly.
he shakes his head. “nah. just needed some air.”
“don’t you have somewhere to be? school? work?”
he snorts. “something like that.”
you glance at him suspiciously. “you’re not one of those street scammers, are you? pretending to help and then demanding money afterward?”
he grins. “wow. that’s how i come across?”
“suspiciously helpful.”
he laughs, and something about the way he tosses his head back makes a passing couple double-take. you notice but don’t think much of it. maybe he just has that kind of face.
you cross your arms tightly across your chest, cocking your head with a teasing squint. “do you usually assume strangers want a picture with you?”
he smirks and tilts his chin slightly, stuffing his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. “only when they run up to me looking all nervous and awkward.”
your eyebrows shoot up. “i ran up to you?”
he lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug, the corner of his mouth twitching. “close enough.” he pauses, then adds casually, “you haven’t told me your name yet.”
you shift your weight to one foot. “it’s y/n.”
a slow grin spreads across his face. “well, nice to meet you, y/n.”
you narrow your eyes, unconvinced. “nice to meet me? you looked like you wanted to rip my head off when i first approached you.”
he lets out a short laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah… sorry about that. bad day.”
by now, you’ve stopped checking your phone. between the winding streets and the ease in his voice, you’ve almost forgotten how stressed you were fifteen minutes ago. almost.
“you sure it’s this way?” you ask again, scanning the street with furrowed brows. “it still feels like we’re walking in circles.”
lamine stops for a second to glance around, then points vaguely ahead like he’s mostly sure. “pretty sure.”
you raise a skeptical brow. “that’s not very comforting.”
he shrugs, the corner of his mouth lifting. “would it help if i said it with more confidence?”
you throw an arm out toward the corner. “i’m telling you, every street looks the same. i swear i’ve passed that bakery like three times.”
he chuckles, hands still tucked in his hoodie. “trust me.”
you shoot him a look. “you said that five blocks ago.”
“but i said it with more confidence,” he replies, flashing a grin as he walks a step ahead of you, glancing back.
you’re halfway through rolling your eyes and making a snarky reply when the alley suddenly opens up to a sunlit plaza. your steps slow to a halt.
“wait—” you blink in disbelief. “this is it! oh my god, thank you!”
he turns to you, one brow raised, his lips curving into a sly smirk. “now i actually want something in exchange for bringing you here.”
you groan and throw your head back dramatically. “knew it. why are there no nice boys anymore?”
he steps just a little closer, tapping his finger lightly against his phone. “i want your number.”
you cross your arms again, smirking. “my number? only if i get a picture — just in case you’re actually very famous and i end up regretting not getting proof later.”
he laughs and lifts his phone. “deal.”
later, back in your hotel room, full from dinner, reunited with your friends, but still replaying the day in your head, you finally give in to curiosity.
you sit cross-legged on the bed, phone in hand, and type “lamine” into google.
the first suggestion pops up instantly.
you tap it.
and nearly drop your phone.
lamine yamal.
the lamine yamal.
barcelona’s golden boy. the breakout star of the euros. one of the most talked-about young players in the world.
you stare at the screen, your heart skipping a beat.
“oh my god,” you whisper into the hotel room air. “i made fun of lamine yamal.”
you scroll through images, articles, fan edits — trying to reconcile the cocky, hoodie-wearing guy who led you through the winding streets.
your fingers hover over your screen for a long moment before you finally give in and text him.
you’re lamine yamal??
you could’ve told me. i totally embarrassed myself.
the reply comes quicker than you expect.
don’t worry. i’m glad you didn’t know.
are you free tomorrow?
(Lamine Yamal, Pedri Gonzalez, Pablo Gavi, Ferran Torres)
𐙚 Ferran Torres (FC Barcelona)
𐙚 Jude Bellingham (Real Madrid)
𐙚 Jobe Bellingham (Borussia Dortmund)
No. of recs: 15
Big boy | @belli5
You’re just obsessed with your boyfriends abs and muscles..
all i want is you | @pinkhairedangelgirl
Jobe Bellingham realizes he can no longer keep his feelings hidden when jealousy overtakes him to finally confess to the person he’s loved for years.
set it up | @/pinkhairedangelgirl
You’ve never had the best of luck when it comes to relationships but being best friends with Ashlyn and Jude means they make it their mission to set you up with Jobe.
the type of bf | @sukiiverse23
I’M FINE | @47foden
jobe makes a post that includes you which leads to a lot of hate comments about you, then he comforts you.
you make me happy | @ikiissagirl
jobe gets quite grumpy when he hasn’t seen her and when he finaly sees her, he is so happy.
Big boy | @dorabellingham
when your boyfriend's job is to keep you warm during the winter
You came | @/dorabellingham
when he invites you to go to a game for the first time but doesn't think you're going
My Lover | @halfwayhearted
Spending time with his family is the best way to spend your time; you really wouldn’t want it any other way.
She’s MINE! | @bobskysworld
jobe spent his whole life sharing with his brother, but this was one thing he wasn’t about to share
Never is a promise | @wonwounds
After an argument and some back handed comments during a Christmas dinner, you’re left humiliated and upset, and you realize never was a promise Jobe apparently couldn’t keep.
Boyfriend Jobe headcanon | @/wonwounds
Nicknames | @judespoets
Cuddly | @nepoxyy-s
your boyfriends dont want to stop cuddling you. until someone errupt in the room
Celebrity crush | @youdarealstevelacy
You’re a rising actor doing an interview with your cast mates. When the question “Who is your celebrity crush” gets asked and you say Jobe..the internet freaks out and you even get a text from a certain footballer.
𐙚 Mason Mount (Manchester United F.C.)
𐙚 Martin Ødegaard (Arsenal F.C.)
No. of fics: 9
normal girl | @julianalvarez9
martin doesn't really like to be in the public eye. where else to look for a partner than outside of it, right?
lover boy | @/julianalvarez9
part of the family | @/julianalvarez9
erling proves to have good aiming not only on the pitch, but off it too, when he sets up his sister with his national team captain successfully.
Aunties Disney Prince | @footywritingworks
Your little niece meets your boyfriend for the first time. And is completely enamored by him.
Feels like Home | @/footywritingworks
Cuddling with your boyfriend is the best medicine after a hard day.
childhood friends to lovers | @martinodegaard26
Captain’s lucky charm | @fallinforerling
Eternal Love | @tierneysodegaard2
Happy Little Accident | @/tierneysodegaard
𐙚 Jamal Musiala (FC Bayern Munich)
No. of fics: 4
Close | @peachyl221
You wonder why your boyfriend is being clingy all day.
You can trust me | @/peachyl221
Jamal tries to show you that he only wants you in his life. No one else.
the boy is mine | @cher-rei
the new intern seemed a little touchy and you felt the need to put her in her place.
Sparks | @/cher-rei
it's the knockout stage for germany for the 2024 euro, and as usual you're there to support your boyfriend, accompanied by some bad weather and a bet to spice up the evening.
𐙚 Julian Alvarez (Atlético Madrid)
No. of fics: 3
Messi in Manchester | @lorarri
everybody thought you and charles were a thing turns out your fathers international teammate has something to say about that
fem! messi! ferrari! f1 driver! reader
Yellow | @julianalvarez9
your mood isn't the best when your sister, the one who almost dragged you into the etihad stadium to watch coldplay, bails in the last minute. although the show wasn't bad, the highlight of the night was someone else.
➤ pairing: rafe cameron x barry x reader
➤ warnings: threesome, blow job, hair pulling, dirty talk, unprotected p in v
masterlist kinktober add yourself to my tag list
You had been fucked by Rafe before. You had been fucked by Barry before. And you liked both with their own ways of handling and pleasing you, having to admit to yourself that you didn’t want to choose only one.
So the idea crept into your head, heavy and all-consuming, making you cum on your own fingers while dreaming about both of them having their way with you.
That one night you let your mouth run without a filter, and when words about them sharing you at the same time slipped so innocently and teasingly, you were met with a heavy silence. Neither of them blinked, eyes dark and steady on your squirming body, yet somehow making you sweat from adrenaline because you knew what it meant.
That’s how you ended up in the position of sitting on Rafe’s lap while he was sprawled on the couch with clothes already pulled down enough for his heavy cock to press against your ass. Barry was standing in front of you, as he palmed himself without shame, right in front of your eyes, stepping closer and fisting your hair with his free hand, pushing the tip against your cheek and then across your lips.
You smiled, both at the feeling of Rafe kneading the plush globes of your ass, rough enough so he could see your sopping hole, and at the way Barry was looking down at you—like he wanted to destroy you. And you knew he could.
“C’mon, sweets.” Barry muttered, pushing the tip against your lips, hissing when he met your warm tongue, ready to taste his essence. “Been runnin’ that mouth about wanting both of us. Time to prove it.”
Rafe’s palm landed on your ass with a loud smack, and you jerked forward with a moan, then looked back at him through your lashes. He hooked two of his fingers on your panties, pushing them aside, looking down to see how the mushroom tip of his cock slid down to where it belonged.
You whimpered and obeyed, letting Barry slip past your lips, his weight heavy and familiar on your tongue. You barely got halfway before Rafe’s hands gripped your hips, dragging the lower half of your body back onto him, not letting you adjust to the stretch and just forcing himself inside.
“Fuckin’ shit.” Rafe growled, moving you up and down on him like a toy, each time pushing you forward to Barry and making his cock slip further down your throat, sure as hell with the help of his fist in your hair. “Dirty whore likes being stuffed at both ends, huh?” He slapped you again until you whined, sending vibrations down to Barry, who was now just using your mouth for his own pleasure.
“Hear that, Country Club? Our girl is having the time of her life.” He laughed above you, smiling at the way you acted like it was something that you were waiting for this whole time—just taking it and letting them have their way. Rafe frowned at his words, slightly moving his hips to the rhythm, sinking further down until he was hitting your cervix each time.
“She’s been waiting to get split open like this.” Rafe hummed at the way you tried to move on your own, at the way you gripped Barry’s thighs for balance and then moved on top of his own lap with hunger that you couldn’t seem to get through. "Couldn't choose one cock, so she took both."
Your whine came out garbled, muffled by Barry’s length filling your mouth. Spit dripped from the corners of your lips, messy and wet, as Barry set a brutal pace, rutting into your throat while Rafe used you from behind like a toy. Every thrust from him pushed you deeper onto Barry, the two of them fucking you in sync without giving you a chance to breathe.
Barry’s free hand slapped your cheek lightly, then harder, making your jaw ache as you gagged around him. “Take it, sweets. Open wider, c’mon, you can take me deeper than that.” His tone was teasing but firm, and his eyes were locked on the way your throat bulged around him.
“Fuck.” Rafe gritted out, slamming you down onto his cock again, your walls gripping him so tight he cursed. “She’s squeezin’ me like a fuckin’ vice. Gonna cum on me, huh?”
“Fuck her ‘til she cries, man… Maybe we’ll fill you from both ends then, baby.” You hummed around him, earning a big and teasing grin from the man above you. Rafe’s hand snaked up your spine, rubbing the skin, coaxing you to be good for them. It took everything in you not to pull away, not to look back at him, at the way he was probably burning holes in the back of your head. “Fuck—she’s humming around my fucking dick. I’m gonna blow my load, baby.”
Rafe’s hips snapped hard, driving deep until he bottomed out, your cunt fluttering helplessly around him. “Do it.” He rasped. “Cum in her mouth while I fill her up. Make her choke on it.”
Barry’s groan was sharp and guttural as he spilled hot down your throat, holding you there until your eyes watered and you were forced to swallow. At the same time, Rafe slammed one last time inside you, growling low as he emptied himself, grinding into you so you couldn’t move away from the flood of heat.
You trembled, blindly pushing Barry away from you, when your own orgasm crashed on you, making you spasm and cry, milking Rafe’s cock until he had nothing left in him. Barry finally let go of your head, his softened length, glistening and slick, slipped out of your lips, and he smeared the mess slightly across your cheek.
You didn’t protest, feeling boneless, yet somehow even more horny than before. Your eyes heavy, cunt flattering around Rafe with aftershocks of your orgasm while he rubbed the sensitive skin of your ass with a hum of approval.
“Did a good job, baby.” Rafe mumbled behind you, making you finally look back and catch his wild and dark eyes.
“Not good enough to fully satisfy us yet, though.”
hey….so I’m gonna need some down right……dirty……smut on Barry………
♯┆Body Shots With Barry.ㅤ ۪ ୧
ᰋ. you're speaking my language, anon 😏 also my strong suit is the lead up to the sex, not the sex itself, so sorry if that part seems kind of short :/ not edited because reading my own smut makes me cringe so bad : WARNINGS . . . unprotected p in v, alcohol, kitchen counter sex, light choking. ̼ ₊
YOU LAID ON BARRY'S kitchen counter, your shirt discarded, and your shorts hung low on your hips. You shivered at the feeling of the cold countertop on your bare back, your teeth biting down slightly on the lime wedge in your mouth, sending the sour taste onto your tongue.
Barry stood beside you with a lazy smirk, a shot in hand. His eyes raked over your figure, taking an agonizingly long time to down the shot as he was having an exceptionally great time oogling your half-naked body.
“I could get used to this,” he murmured, sliding his hand up your thigh, his cool rings soothing on your flushed skin. Finally, he tipped his head back, his lips pressing to the rim of the glass as he downed the clear liquid. It burned his throat, making his face contort momentarily before he dipped his head down, pressing his tongue above your belly button and licking the pre-applied line of salt up your stomach, reaching just below your bra.
He groaned lowly, moving to hover over your face, looking into your eyes. “Fuck, you taste good, baby,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over your face as he opened his mouth, wrapping his lips around the lime in your mouth, his lips inches from yours, almost kissing you before he pulled away, sucking the juice into his mouth to finish the shot.
“Took your sweet ass time to take that shot," you rolled your eyes, a small smile playing on your lips. You moved to sit up on your elbows, but he stopped you.
"Uh uh, stay there, sexy," he commanded with a smirk, pushing gently on your shoulders until you laid back down. "I'm not done enjoying my view yet." His eyes twinkled mischievously as they wandered appreciatively over your body stretched out on the counter.
You flushed, the look in his eyes making a wet spot form on your panties. You felt so vulnerable under his intense gaze, but you loved it.
“Take your bra off, wanna do a proper shot off those tits,” he ordered after a beat of silence, watching you intently. Your breath caught in your throat, but you did as he said, leaning up to unclip your bra and discard it somewhere in the room along with your shirt.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips, staring intently at your boobs as you freed them. “Fuckin' perfect,” he groaned, grabbing the the tequila bottle and pouring it along your chest, the cold liquor immediately hardening your nipples as it trailed down your body.
He leaned down, his tongue trailing from your naval to your chest as he lapped up the tequila. He ran his tongue over your nipple, making you gasp. You reached up, holding the back of his head, your nails raking over his buzz as he licked and sucked at your tits.
"Mmm, fuck," Barry groaned against your skin, his dick straining uncomfortably against his jeans as he devoured your tits. He trailed his kisses up toward your neck as he fumbled with his belt, popping the button open on his jeans.
“Presumptuous, aren't we?" You teased, letting out a soft, breathy moan as he sucked on your neck, no doubt leaving a mark that would darken by the time you left—a reminder of this moment.
He kissed up your jaw, mumbling against your skin. “When a sexy lady lets me do shots off her perfect fuckin' tits, clothes start coming off.”
Your giggle in response was cut off by him pressing his mouth against yours, swallowing the sound. You moaned into his mouth, breaking the kiss to push yourself into a sitting position on the counter, facing him to make it more comfortable.
He stripped his shirt before stepping between your legs, running his hands up and down your thighs. He leaned down to capture your mouth again, his tongue pushing past your lips to tangle with yours. The kiss was hot, messy, and full of need as he grinded his hips into you.
“Knew you had ulterior motives when you suggested body shots,” you murmured between kisses, your breath coming out in hot pants.
“You ain't exactly the protesting,” he shot back, biting your lip hard enough to sting as he grabbed your hands and placed them on the zipper of his jeans. “Unzip ‘em, baby.”
“Perv,” you grinned playfully, unzipping his jeans for him.
He smirked, wiggling out of his jeans, letting them drop to the floor. His boxers did little to conceal his rock-hard erection. "Guilty as charged." He stepped closer, now clad only in his boxers and a sexy grin, the bulge prominent.
You bit your lip, unbuttoning your shorts and letting him pull them down along with your underwear, leaving you naked before him.
He groaned at the sight of you, completely bare and vulnerable before him. "Fuckin' hell," he muttered, his eyes darkening with lust. He stepped closer, pressing his body against yours, his erection rubbing against your thigh.
“You just gonna stand there or...?" You grinned, running a finger down his chest.
“You want me to fuck you right here?" He asked, running his thumb over your lips. You sucked his thumb into your mouth, nodding at him. “Yes, ma'am,” he smirked, pulling his thumb free so he could push his boxers down, freeing his hard length. He gripped the base, rubbing it along your slit and gathering your wetness on his tip, making you moan.
He watched your face closely as he slowly pushed himself inside you, inch by thick inch, until he was fully seated. He groaned deeply at how tight and wet you were, pausing to let you adjust.
Your mouth opened in pleasure, your hand shooting out to grip his bicep and dig your nails into it.
He groaned at your reaction, his hips flexing slightly as he began to move, slowly pulling out and then pushing back in. "Fuck, you feel so good," he muttered, his voice strained with pleasure. He leaned down to kiss you again, his tongue pushing into your open mouth, muffling the sounds of your moans.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as his length slid in and out of your walls, letting you feel every vein and ridge of his hard dick.
"Shit," he cursed softly, hitching your legs higher around his waist, causing him to slide deeper inside you. His other hand went to your throat, wrapping around it and squeezing lightly in a way that made you whine in pleasure.
“Just like that,” you breathed out, feeling a jolt of pleasure through your body as he hit that special spot inside you.
He growled softly, using his grip on your throat to angle your head for a deeper kiss. He started moving faster, his hips slapping against yours as he hit that spot over and over. “This what you wanted, huh, dirty girl?” he panted between kisses, his thumb moving between your bodies to rub your clit in time with his movements.
“Uh huh,” you whimpered, feeling yourself getting closer and closer. Barry could feel it too in the way you began to rhythmically pulse around him.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, feeling your pussy tighten even more around him. He was close, too. “You’re gonna make me come,” he warned, his thumb moving faster over your clit.
It wasn't long after that you felt were arching your back, head tilting back as you moaned, your orgasm triggering his own as he flooded your pulsing cunt with his cum.
He let out a deep, satisfied groan as he came, his body shuddering with the intensity of his release. He kept moving slowly, milking every last drop of pleasure from both of you. His grip on your throat loosened, and he kissed you gently, his tongue softly exploring your mouth. “Good fuckin' girl,” he mumbled.
Rafe with a girlfriend that loves to read. He doesn’t get it. Really. But he’d do anything to make his girl happy. ❤️🩹
Just Rafe being disgustingly sweet and spoiling reader…
I wanna make a part 2 where he finds out about annotating cuz that scenario is just hillarious to me 😭 lmk if you want it!
» masterlist
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
“Hey, baby,” Rafe mumbled as he walked into the kitchen, it was early in the morning and his voice was still rough, his hair messy and his eyes barely open as he reached for your coffee and took a sip. You were staying at Tannyhill for a while because his dad was on some family trip with Sarah and Rose.
You chuckled and reached for your coffee, snatching it from his hand. “Morning.”
He started to make coffee for himself as well, you’d normally admire his back in the white shirt he was wearing, but you were almost finished with your book so you kept reading, eyes glued to the page. Rafe noticed and looked over his shoulder at you. “Wheezie’s still sleeping?” His eyes trailed down to the table, one singular book laying there but a bunch of mini colorful papers and pens laying around it. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed there was no notebook tho. Weird.
“Mhm,” you gave a quick nod, clearly more focused on the text in your book than on him. “Made you some waffles.” You added and kept reading the page quickly. Suddenly you let out a gasp.
“What?” Rafe quickly turned around, his flight fight or fight mode on immediately. Then he let out a frustrated groan when he realised why you gasped and he leaned against the table, flexing his arms (not happy that you didn’t even look), and sneaking a glance at the page.
“Oh, my fucking God. I need to know the rest.” You let out a tortured moan and looked up at him, suddenly realising you were not alone and that your very much judgy boyfriend was staring at you. You felt your cheeks flush. “Sorry, um… it just… was intense is all.” You closed the book shut, avoiding eye contact with him.
Rafe grinned. “You’re so weird.” He mumbled and ran a hand through your hair. “So, so weird it actually makes you cute as fuck.” He whispered as he leaned down to you, you closed your eyes and purred softly at his touch. He smirked, satisfied that he finally got your attention.
You chuckled at his comment, looking up at him. You knew Rafe didn’t get it. He was very much reality-oriented and you were sure you wouldn’t be able to force him to read a book if his life depended on it. Yours maybe… but you’d probably die anyway. Plus there was no way he’d ever find the time in his schedule to read something. He was either taking care of business or spent all his free time with you and you only, and intended to keep it that way.
He went back to making coffee and you pulled out your phone, looking up the next book in the series you were currently reading. The thing is it was still a fresh release and everyone loved this series so it was sold out everywhere, hard to get and if a store had it they put an insane price on it, knowing some people would buy it anyway.
“30 fucking dollars for a paperback? Fucking assholes.” You slammed your phone down and Rafe turned around, giving you a look of genuine confusion.
“What’s wrong?” He had no idea what a paperback means, or how much books even cost. Thirty dollars sounded normal to him… cheap even.
“What’s wrong? Baby 30 bucks would be insane even for a hardcover.”
“A what?”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s fucking ridiculous. They put a big price on it because they know people want it and some people will buy it but I-“
“I’ll get it for you.” Rafe stopped your rant and sat down next to you with his coffee and the waffles you made earlier.
“What? No, Rafey, no. It’s so fucking expensive.”
He genuinely grinned at your statement. “Baby, it’s 30 bucks.” He rested his hand on your knee, drawing little circles with his thumb, trying to ease your mood. He was still sleepy, normally you’d admire how pretty he looked with his hair all messy and eyes puffy.
“No. That’s not the point. It’s too much for a book. Baby a paperback is usually around 10 dollars.”
“So?”
You groaned. Oh how you wanted to rant to someone about how stupid it was, but of course Rafe didn’t understand. Where was Wheezie when you needed her?
Rafe grabbed your phone and checked the location of the bookstore. You both ate your waffles and chatted about some other things for a while. He eventually got up. “Get dressed, we’ll go get it.”
“Rafey it’s really okay-“
“Shut upppp,” it was his turn to groan in annoyance now and you chuckled at his expression. “Wanna make you happy baby, I don’t give a fuck if it costs a thousand. Get dressed.”
There was no arguing with Rafe once he made up his mind. You were on his bike within a few minutes, holding on to him as he parked in front of the bookstore. He grabbed your waist as he led you inside, holding you close to him — it was a thing he did whenever you went to public together.
You immediately knew where to look for the book you wanted, but your eyes lingered on some new releases on your way over to the fantasy isle anyway, remembering you wanted some of them.
Rafe followed closely behind, texting Barry back on his phone about something.
There were two girls standing next to the fantasy isle and you heard them rant about how overpriced this specific book is and how unfair it is. You really couldn’t agree more. You reached for it and sighed. “Oh God,” you mumbled to yourself when you saw the price. Not thirty, but thirty fucking two.
“Right?!” One of the girls looked at you, obviously also pissed off. “I mean, how greedy can they get.” She ranted.
“Yeah I threw a tantrum when I saw how much it is this morning.” You laughed and she laughed as well, the other girl adding in her own complaining and you were chatting about it for a while, talking about the events of the first book in the series. Rafe was behind you for a while but he got annoyed with Barrys shit over the phone so he found a chair to sit on and let you talk to the girls.
“Right, um, I’ll get going.” You eventually said to the girls when you noticed Rafe was now just scrolling on his phone. You didn’t really wanna keep him waiting.
“Wait you’re actually buying it?!”
“Um,” you let out a nervous laugh, “yeah, well, no… my um, boyfriend’s getting it for me.” You admitted, you didn’t want to brag but you also didn’t want to say you’re getting it and take the credit for something he’s paying for.
“Oh wow, lucky.” One of the girls smiled, sneaking a glance at him. You could tell just from the look in her eyes that she found Rafe scary. Most people did.
“I’m jealous,” the other whispered, whether about your boyfriend or the book was not clear. You smiled and said your goodbye, and went over to Rafe who was now on his feet, leaning against the wall.
He furrowed his eyebrows when he saw you only came back with that one book. “Did you fucking read the whole thing already?”
“What do you mean?” You grinned, ignoring his grumpiness.
“I thought you were picking shit. What were you doing?”
“Oh no, I was chatting with some girls. Sorry. They also had a lot to say about the pricing.” You smiled at him apologetically.
“Well yeah, but go pick more books.” He said annoyed. He didn’t really mind waiting for you but he didn’t understand why you only grabbed one.
“No, baby, this one’s already overpriced as fuck I don’t wanna-“
“For Gods sake Y/N, we’re already here. Get more. Wanna spoil you baby.” He brushed his finger against your cheek and put a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled at him and tried to hide your blush.
“Okay, alright. Can you—“
“Mhm,” he knew what you were asking immediately and grabbed the one you already had so you can go look at some more.
You were walking around the isles, checking out a bunch of books. You’d lie if you said you didn’t want almost every single one. As you were reading the back of some modern romance Rafe appeared behind you, he came closer to you and put one hand next to your head, leaning against you. You could feel his breath at the back of your neck and a shiver ran down your spine.
“Isn’t that just about sex?”
“Yeah,” you laughed, not noticing that the girls you were chatting to earlier were standing next to you and Rafe.
He seemed genuinely confused. “Why’d you read about it when we can do it?”
“Rafe,” you laughed again and turned around to face him, giving him a look, blushing when you noticed there were other people too.
“What? I’m serious. Bet I can make you feel better than some words on paper.” He brushed his hand against your back and you felt your whole body tense up… that is until you heard the girls next to you giggle.
“Shut the fuck up,” you mumbled, embarassment evident in your face. But Rafe just smirked, always eager to make you flustered.
“Besides,” you added, putting the book back, “you’d be surprised what a few words on paper can do to you.”
He gave you a susprised look, “Seriously?”
“Yeah where do you think I learned all my tricks?” You said jokingly and he grinned as well.
“Dunno, you were pretty innocent before I corrupted your pretty mind.” He mumbled next to your ear and nibbled at the skin of your exposed neck, softly kissing a mark. His mark.
Rafe smirked when he noticed the way your body reacted by leaning closer to him, and reached over you to grab the book you placed back. “So we’re buying it?”
“No.”
“Why not?” He raised an eyebrow. You were obviously intrigued by it, he thought.
“It doesn’t sound that interesting,” obvious lie, “’m gonna look for something else.”
“Get something else and this as well?”
“No, Rafey, books can get-“ but he just rolled his eyes and held it next to the first book you picked. Already made up his mind.
You knew he’d just get it no matter what you said. “Wait, it’s a sequel, can you—“ You looked up, not only was this store overpriced as fuck but they obviously also had zero respect for small people.
“Hm, here,” he leaned even closer, brushing his lips against your ear, trapping you a little, your back pressed against the bookshelf. “Which one?” He teased you with a smirk, his fingers brushing your hair aside to make the marks he left there the other day visible, his breath brushing over them.
Then he got the book you pointed at, leaving you shivering just a bit more. “Needing me so bad for everything…” he murmured happily.
Rafe figured quickly that you’d act all humble the whole time. You always picked up a book, read the back, smiled at it… and put it back. Every. Damn. Time. And after an hour of him waiting you had the audacity to come to him with only two books. He didn’t say anything, just got up, grabbed them from your hands and made his way to the cashier.
“Hey, princess, hold this for me.” He handed you the four books as he wanted to reach into his pocket for his wallet on the way. You took the books without questioning him, and he quickly grabbed most of the books he noticed you were checking earlier. He also grabbed the better ones, the ones that were more expensive… hardbacks? That’s what you called it, right? So quickly you didn’t even really get the chance to protest.
“Rafe-“
“Shut it,” he growled and this was the first time today he didn’t say that in a joking manner.
So you did.
“Everything alright, sir?” The cashier asked. Rafe gave her a quick nod and noticed they had some snacks — mostly chocolates — there. So he grabbed a few and added that to the pile of books.
He waited for the cashier to finish her job when you suddenly realised something.
“Rafe, wait.” You mumbled and ran off. He didn’t really understand but you came back with one more book a second later. He didn’t mind at all. Tho it didn’t really seem like your style, compared to all the other books… this one was colorful and seemed like some rom-com high school bullshit, but he didn’t question you.
“Your total’s $273, sir…”
You felt your body freeze. “Rafe you don’t-“
But he already pulled out his card without blinking an eye. “Told you to shut it.” He whispered and grabbed the bags with your books and threw his free arm around you, leading you out of the store.
He let out a sigh when you both exited the store and you were afraid for a second that it was because it really was too expensive.
“You’re impossible, you know that?”
Fuck.
“The worst sugar baby ever.” He added and gave you a relaxed smile.
Oh… that’s what he meant. You felt relief as you smiled at him as well, laughing at his nickname for you.
“Thank you, baby.” You mumbled and wrapped your arms around his waist as you both made your way to his bike.
“Mhm, anything for you. Anytime.” He kissed the top of your head and you felt butterflies in your stomach.
Wheezie was already up when you both returned to Tannyhill. She was excited to see all the books you got so you sat down on a couch with her and showed her everything, telling her about each one. Rafe didn’t really care… plus all the fantasy terms started to give him a headache so he minded his own business, dealing with something on his phone again, occasionally resting his hand on your thigh.
“Oh yeah, this one’s for you. I knew you wanted it.”
That caught his attention. He looked up from his phone and saw Wheezies eyes sparkle as she flipped through the book you picked for her. He felt his heart warm up. You really were thinking of his little sister too… He’s so going you wife you up one day. Probably soon.
He sneaked his arm around your waist and squeezed you gently, thanking you.
♡ How Rafe would treat you each season... / headcanons
♡ Rafe x Reader GF
Rafe spoils you by buying you books / fluff
♡ Rafe x Shy GF Reader / fluff, suggestive
How Rafe treats his shy girlfriend...
♡ Blood Pact / Jealous!Rafe x Reader
Connecting your blood with Rafes as a promise to be his forever
✘ Rafe takes care of you after a horrible dinner with his family / smut
♡ A whole day of Rafe spoiling you 🛍
♡ Scary? My God, you're divine
Telling Rafe you love him for the first time...
♡ Rafe & hickeys
SOCIAL MEDIA
♡ Texting bf!Rafe part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4
♡ Snaps with bf!Rafe
♡ Readers stories with bf!Rafe
— JJ MAYBANK
SOCIAL MEDIA
♡ Texting bf!JJ
— THEODORE NOTT
♡ Dating Theo headcanons
♡ You're the best I ever had, you're the worst I ever had
You and Theo used to be close but you aren't anymore, he gets your attention by being mean to you / angst (good ending)
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
FEEL FREE TO SEND ME REQUESTS!! My inbox is always open! 💕
! I DO write smut
! Please do NOT request a specific name for the reader, it's "x reader" for a reason 😭 (I try to avoid using Y/N most of the time)
