#fc barca

you and lamine never really got any privacy. in his house it was because of his mother and kenye. they were always home and always around you two. then, in your house it was because your parents were always around as well, they also had cameras everywhere, and did not let you two in your room together, alone.

so, when lamine’s mom said she had to go run errands for the whole day you both were relieved, except that kenye did not take kindly to naps, or leaving you alone.

you spent basically the whole day running around behind him, playing with him, cooking him food, watching movies with him, and talking to him. you could feel the tension between you and lamine and it was getting unbearable.

finally, by the magic of a warm milk bottle kenye fell asleep in your arms. you rocked him for a couple more minutes to make sure he was actually asleep, then you placed the bottle to the side and took him to his bedroom.

while you were tucking him in lamine was picking up after kenye, mostly his toys. you scurried over to lamine’s bedroom, waiting for him, smiling, and he finally arrived.

“finally!” you whisper-yelled, excitedly patting the spot in front of you.

lamine smiled, “took way too long,” he laughed.

you nodded in agreement and instantly went in for a kiss when he sat down, not wasting any time. he picked you up so you could sit on his lap as he roamed his hands around your body.

he groaned into the kiss slightly, causing you to giggle and put your foreheads against each other, “this was very much needed,” you blushed.

lamine opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him by kissing him again. he brought his hands up to spank your ass and grip it right after to soothe it, he did it a couple times while you started to grind slightly, the last time he did it you heard a voice.

“lama?” a tiny, soft voice said from behind you.

lamine instantly froze as well and took his hands off you, creating some distance, “kenye,” he awkwardly smiled.

you wiped the lipstick stains off of lamine’s face, “hey kenye bebe.”

“why close?” he questioned, rubbing his eyes.

your face turned red, “we were just talking bebe.”

“up.” he requested, putting his arms out and yawning.

you picked him up and placed him in between you and lamine, “you have goodnight kiss.” kenye laughed, pointing at one of the lipstick smudges.

you and lamine laughed, slightly embarrassed, “yes she was just kissing me goodnight kenye.”

he pouted, “my turn.” kenye said, as he pointed to one of his cheeks.

you laughed softly and placed a tiny kiss on his cheek, then he pointed to the other one, and kept going back and forth.

“enough?” you asked, while giving him a tiny hug, “i think lamine’s jealous.” you whispered.

he nodded, “hehe, jealous.”

lamine rolled his eyes, “i’m not jealous, i got kisses first.” he teased kenye.

kenye, still in his sleepy state teared up, “lamine!” you hissed, annoyed.

“what!” he laughed, “it’s not my fault he’s a little cry baby.” he said, which made it worse because now kenye was full on crying.

you groaned, “yeah, he is literally a baby, lamine.” you rolled your eyes, “it’s okay bebe, no more kisses for lamine, okay?”

you wiped his tears and he did the same, nodding his head, “okey.”

“now let’s go to sleep, yeah?” you kissed his forehead.

you placed him in between you and lamine, he gravitated more towards you which caused lamine to laugh. finally, he fell asleep again and so did you.

-

might also make another version of getting caught by his older teammates, that would be so cute

l. yamal taglist: @massivepainterfan , @oharella , @piecredheart , @brune77e , @maybelu7 , @soobieewoobiee , @httpworshiper , @cnrdfisher , @deadpool15 , @night-fury-kamila , @frvrisa , @kylianaegyouwww , @ceziaa , @secretkittydreamland , @watamontee33 , @shakerhalfling8 , @auroraeanne , @rockurwurld , @oliseamorr <3

perm. taglist: @pinkfashionkilla , @koneooo , @random34674 , @mumisntproudofme , @itsopinionsbased , @bangtan7553 , @eerilyjaggedconstruct , @putaaamadre , @gigi9na <33

A - aftercare (what they’re like after sex) 

he’s young, and to be quite honest, i can’t imagine him as the stereotypical gentleman after sex. like most teenage boys, after he’s done, he’s tired and just wants to lay down and cuddle. the most maybe wiping you down and ensuring you pee, then cuddles til you both fall asleep.

B - body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his is your waist in both sexual and non sexual situations, his hand is always on it, as a handle to keep you close (and deeper when he’s fucking you)

your favorite body part of his is his thighs. constantly running around on the pitch has made them quite strong and you love taking them for a ride after a long day.

C - cum (anything to do with cum basically

refuses to cum inside. it’s a dream of his to do so one day, but right now, there’s no room for any mistakes or accidents. even with birth control. will fuck you until he can tell he’s about to cum, then at the last minute pull out and finish on your stomach or back. he loves watching his cum spread across your face and mouth when you’re giving him head, and loves when you swallow even more

D - dirty secret (pretty self explanatory)

he sometimes screen records your very innocent face time calls, to look back at them to jack off later. he’s spent many late night away from you, jacking off at recordings of you simply doing your makeup or trying on clothes.

another is that he wants to have sex in “public” at least once. there have been numerous times at games or events where he’s wanted to pull you into an empty room to have a quickie but was too scared to ask.

E - experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he may be young, but that dick is well beyond his years. had a fair amount of experience from past girlfriends and casual flings so he was good off that alone, but he also made it a to learn your body so well to the point he probably knows how to pleasure you better than you do yourself. he knows exactly what he’s doing.

F - favorite position

as i said, his favorite body part is your waist, so any position that allows him to have his hands wrapped around them. missionary, doggy, cowgirl. once he can hold onto you, he loves it.

G - goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

i don’t think he’s out there cracking jokes, but when funny things happen he’s not afraid to chuckle . it just doesn’t happen often as usually he’s just so focused on you that nothing is that funny.

H - hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

probably not shaved. if anything he’d have a trim. once it’s clean and you’re not complaining, he’s fine.

I - intimacy ( how they are during the moment. the romantic aspect)

very intimate. as i said in g, he’s just so focused on you, and the moment you’re both in. he’s very loving and focused on both your pleasure.

J - jack off

if you seriously think any of these footballers don’t jack off you’re crazy, and if you think the 19 year old doesn’t you’re crazier. he probably doesn’t watch porn anymore, opting for his own collection of personalized tapes of you, doing something’s simple as drinking water on a call, or in a very compromising position with him as he recorded

K - kink (their kinks)

choking - he likes choking you. i haven’t nothing else to say

face sitting - the first time you both tried it, he fell in love. can’t go too long without withdrawal symptoms now

public sex - like i said, he really wants to try it, but clueless how to bring it up

sleep sex - loves when you let him cockwarm you the night before, so when he wakes up, he doesn’t have to do much to get you up as well and enjoy some slow, loving morning sex. he also gave permission to wake him up with head, and he’s transported to heaven and back everytime you take him up on that offer.

L - location (favorite places to do the do)

both your rooms mainly. as much as he’d love to have sex in a “public” situation, not when someone (particularly either of your families) can see. bathrooms sometimes, and when you share a hotel room, basically every single surface there.

M - motivation (what turns them on)

you in his jersey, you in shorts, you in cropped tops, you in a sundress, you laying in his bed, you making eye contact with him. basically just you existing

N - no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything to do with bodily waste, or another man. thats it. anything else, if you’re down, he’s down.

O - oral (give or receive)

he’s young and he’s a man. i’d like to be optimistic, but to be very honest he loves receiving. don’t get me wrong, he still goes down on you with skill (especially if you’ve had a long day, it you ask nicely) however, he just loves being sucked off. he likes when you struggle to take it, he likes hearing the light gags, he likes when you play with his balls. he just loves head.

P - pace (how slow or fast they are)

unless you say “can we go slow this time” or you’re both tired, but still need each other he’s just jack hammering. hes at the point where there’s so much sexual build up inside him it’s the best way to relieve himself. plus it feels good for you too. he likes fucking raw, rough, and regularly

(wrap it before you tap it tho thanks!!)

Q - quickie (their opinions on them)

1/4 of your sex with lamine is quickies. little pent up stress before he has to rush out the door, quickie. your mom is on her way home but he has a boner, quickie. his brother is focused on his toys for a bit and you look extra good, quickie. of course he prefers to take his time with you, but he enjoys quickies and is very efficient with them.

R - risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he’s down for everything. it’s more a conversation of if you’re comfortable with whatever it is. he loves the idea of taking risks, but just wants to make sure you’re good with everything first

S - stamina (how many rounds? how long do they last)

he’s paid millions to run around a huge field for upwards of 1.5 hours. he could go all night if he wanted. he did on your birthday. generally though, you tap out after 3/4 rounds.

T - toys(do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

i feel like he doesn’t like them that much. his ego thrives on the fact that he alone can make you cum. why use a toy when you have a lamine.

U - unfair (how much they like to tease)

LOVESSSS to ready you. will edge til your on the verge of tears. your foreplay is a bunch of teasing until you’re practically begging for him. he loves the little touches that rile you up just enough. he hates being teased though. he starts whining you get him all excited then stop. “it’s fine when i do it, but it hurts when you do it” is his favorite line

V - volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he quiet on the mf creek. doesn’t make that much noise other than grunts, heavy panting and occasionally moaning your name. he’s always on the quieter side sounds wise, however he always has something to say in your ear. if the dick wasn’t doing it for you (impossible btw) the dirty spanish he whispers most definitely was.

W - wild card (random headcannon for lamine)

would, and probably has stolen your panties for trips when you can’t come. just a little reminder of home.

X - x-ray (what’s underneath)

large and in charge! i’d say 7.5 inches, a bit wide, and curved slightly to the left. no one with an ego like his is fetching shrimp.

Y - yearning (how high is their sex drive)

he needs you all the time. in him, on top of him, something. anything. literally the thought of you makes him horny. just wants you 24/7.

Z - zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

the seat beside yours stays empty until the last boarding call.

you don’t look up at first.

there’s another line in the quarterly report that doesn’t quite add up. the acquisition numbers look optimistic to the point of fiction, and you’re halfway through highlighting a paragraph when someone slides into 4b.

a soft thud.

a carry-on tucked away.

the faint smell of expensive perfume and something clean.

“hi.”

you glance over automatically.

she smiles.

it’s unfair, really.

the sort of smile that belongs on magazine covers rather than overnight flights across the atlantic.

“hi.”

she settles in, buckling her seatbelt with practiced ease. a baseball cap disappears into the seat pocket, revealing blonde hair that’s slightly flattened from wearing it through the airport.

you return to your report.

you make it exactly three sentences.

“business or pleasure?”

you look up. “…pardon?”

she nods towards the stack of printed reports balanced across your lap. “are you reading for business or pleasure?”

you blink once. “unless we’re suddenly counting stocks as pleasure…” she laughs. “…then no. it’s all business.”

“some people do count investments as pleasure.”

you snort despite yourself. “do they?”

“absolutely.”

“those people need hobbies.”

she grins. “to each their own.”

there’s a pause, and you study her for a second. “what about you?”

“what about me?”

“why are you going to chicago?”

she leans back comfortably. “i’ve got a modelling thing.”

you nod slowly. “so you’re a model.”

she smiles wider. “i’m a footballer.”

“…oh.”

“but thank you for complimenting my looks.”

your cheeks warm just enough to annoy you. “that wasn’t-”

“it absolutely was.”

“i made an assumption.”

“based on my face.”

“based on the modelling.”

she hums, pretending to consider it. “i’ll allow it.”

the aircraft begins to taxi.

the conversation should end there.

it doesn’t.

“and you?” she asks. “what do you do when you’re not insulting footballers?”

“I work in finance.”

“that explains the reports.”

“i’m glad we’ve solved that mystery.”

“high-powered?”

“reasonably.”

“boring?”

“only to people who don’t enjoy spreadsheets.”

“ah.”

she nods thoughtfully. “so definitely boring.”

you smile despite yourself. “you asked.”

“i did.”

she offers her hand. “alexia.”

you take it. her grip is warm, firm, her hands slightly calloused from years of training and competing.

“y/n.”

“nice to meet you, y/n.”

the seatbelt sign stays on for another twenty minutes.

by the time it switches off, you’ve somehow learnt that she’s flying over for a campaign with a sportswear brand after preseason training.

she learns that you’re presenting to a board on monday morning.

“that’s why you’re reading reports on a plane?”

“i like being prepared.”

“you’re reading printed financial statements.”

“yes.”

“on holiday.”

“i’m not on holiday.”

“exactly.”

she shakes her head dramatically. “tragic.”

the flight attendant appears with drinks. “can i get you anything?”

alexia glances at you. “wine?”

you hesitate for perhaps half a second. “…why not.”

“two reds, please.”

the first glass disappears surprisingly quickly.

the second follows not long after dinner.

your reports are abandoned somewhere between discussing football stadium atmospheres and the merits of deep-dish pizza.

she tells stories well.

animated hands.

bright eyes.

every sentence somehow ending with you laughing.

you tell fewer stories.

she notices.

“you’re one of those people.”

“what people?”

“the quiet ones.”

“i talk.”

“when spoken to.”

“that’s generally how conversations work.”

“mm.”

she tips her glass slightly. “but when you do talk…”

she studies you over the rim. “…it’s usually worth listening.”

the compliment lands heavier than expected, causing you look away.

outside the window, there’s nothing except darkness broken occasionally by wing lights.

the cabin dims.

most people around you begin settling in.

blankets.

headphones.

sleep masks.

business class becomes strangely intimate in the low lighting.

voices lower.

movements slower.

alexia slips off her shoes, folding one leg beneath herself. “you’re thinking again.”

“am i?”

“finance face.”

“finance face?”

“very serious.”

“i don’t have a finance face.”

“you absolutely do.”

she reaches over before you can react. two fingers gently press the space between your eyebrows. 

“right…”

another light push.

“…there.”

you stare at her. “…what?”

“your frown disappeared.”

she withdraws her hand like nothing happened. “much better.”

you should probably be irritated.

instead-

“you’re very confident.”

“only when i drink.”

“often?”

“maybe once a month.”

you laugh quietly. “i can imagine.”

she watches you for a moment. “there it is.”

“what?”

“you smile more than you think.”

you hold her gaze. “you’re very observant.”

“occupational hazard.”

“football?”

“captain.” she shrugs. “always watching people.”

the silence that follows isn’t awkward.

it’s… comfortable.

dangerously so.

she looks good in the dim cabin lighting.

you notice details now.

the strength in her forearms.

the watch on her wrist.

the tiny scar near her thumb.

she catches you looking. “what?”

“nothing.”

“liar.”

“i wasn’t-”

“checking me out?”

“…”

she smiles slowly.

“it’s okay.”

you clear your throat. “you’re very sure of yourself.”

“would it help if i admitted i’ve been trying not to look at you for the last hour?”

your heart does something deeply inconvenient. “…really?”

“really.”

another pause.

“those reading glasses aren’t helping.”

you glance down. “my reading glasses?”

“you put them on to read.”

“…yes.”

“terrible decision.”

you laugh under your breath. “because?”

“because every time you adjust them…” her eyes flick briefly to your mouth before returning. “…i forget what i was saying.”

the air feels warmer.

or maybe it’s just the wine.

you remove your glasses. “better?”

she exhales once. “significantly worse.”

your laugh comes quieter this time.

closer.

neither of you has noticed when the armrest stopped being enough space between you.

your shoulders brush now whenever either of you moves.

she doesn’t move away.

neither do you.

“can i ask you something?”

“depends.”

“are you always this…” she searches for the word.

“…careful?”

“careful?”

“like you’re calculating twelve different outcomes before you say anything.”

you think about denying it.

instead-

“usually.”

“and right now?”

your eyes meet hers, and your voice becomes softer. “right now… i’m trying very hard not to make a bad decision.”

she smiles. “interesting.”

“why?”

“because i was thinking exactly the same thing.”

another beat.

the hum of the engines fills the silence.

she tilts her head slightly. “i’m going to ask you something.”

“okay.”

“you can absolutely say no.”

“okay.”

“but if i don’t kiss you before this plane lands…”

her smile turns almost shy for the first time all evening.

“…i think i’m going to regret it.”

your eyes flick briefly to her mouth then back. “…that’s funny.”

“why?”

“because i was wondering how much longer you’d wait before asking.”

she laughs.

quiet enough not to disturb anyone sleeping nearby.

“so…”

“so.”

“…may i?”

instead of answering-

you lean the remaining inch between you.

her lips meet yours gently. just once- soft, testing even.

when you pull back, neither of you says anything for a few seconds.

alexia’s forehead rests lightly against yours.

“…well,” she murmurs.

“well.”

“that didn’t exactly help.”

“no.”

“made it considerably worse.”

you smile.

“i noticed.”

her thumb brushes absentmindedly against your wrist. “walk with me?”

“where?”

she glances meaningfully towards the rear of the aircraft.

“just…” another smile. “…to stretch our legs.”

you look at her.

at the sleepy cabin around you.

at the knowing expression she’s trying (and failing) to hide.

then you quietly unbuckle your seatbelt.

“lead the way.”

the aisle lights are dimmed to a faint amber glow. most passengers are asleep, blankets pulled high, headphones in.

the hum of the engines swallows almost every sound.

alexia walks just ahead of you, one hand lightly brushing the seat backs. you follow close enough that when the plane shifts in a bit of turbulence your fingers graze her lower back.

she doesn’t pull away. if anything she leans into the touch.

the galley at the rear is empty. the flight attendants have retreated to their jump seats. 

alexia glances once over her shoulder at you, that small conspiratorial smirk playing on her lips, then pushes open the door to the accessible lavatory.

the second the door clicks shut behind you the tiny space feels electric.

she turns and kisses you like she’s been waiting hours to do it. not gentle this time. her hands slide up your neck, fingers threading into your hair as she backs you against the counter. 

you taste the red wine on her tongue, feel the solid warmth of her body pressing flush against yours.

you kiss her back harder, nipping at her bottom lip, and she makes this soft surprised sound that shoots straight between your legs.

“fuck,” she breathes against your mouth, half laughing. “you’ve been holding out on me.”

“you’ve been talking too much.”

she grins, bright and wicked, then ducks her head to mouth at your neck, sucking lightly just below your ear.

your head falls back against the mirror with a quiet thud.

her hands move with purpose. one slips under your blouse, palm sliding up your ribs, thumb brushing the underside of your breast through your bra. the other grips your hip, pulling you even closer.

you tug at the hem of her shirt, fingers finding warm skin and the firm lines of muscle along her abdomen.

when you scratch lightly down her sides she shivers and presses her thigh between yours.

the pressure is immediate. perfect. not enough.

“alexia-” you whisper.

she answers by rolling her hips, slow and deliberate, grinding against you until your breath catches. her mouth finds yours again, deeper, messier.

you can feel how turned on she is. the heat of her through her joggers. the way her breathing is already getting ragged.

her fingers work open the button of your trousers, sliding the zipper down just enough to slip her hand inside. 

when she feels how wet you are she groans quietly against your lips. “dios mio… you’re soaked.”

you don’t answer with words. instead you push your own hand down the front of her joggers, past the waistband of her underwear, and find her just as drenched. the sound she makes when your fingers slide through her folds is low and filthy.

for a moment you just touch each other like that. slow, exploratory strokes. learning what makes the other gasp. 

her forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard in the tiny space.

she curls two fingers and presses them inside you without warning. your knees nearly buckle.

you bite down on her shoulder to stay quiet, and she hisses in pleasure at the sting.

“that’s it,” she murmurs, voice wrecked. “just like that.”

you match her rhythm, sliding two fingers into her at the same time. she’s tight and so fucking wet it makes your head spin. 

you crook your fingers and she clenches around you with a broken moan she tries to muffle against your neck.

the plane hums beneath you. someone coughs a few rows away. the risk of it all only makes everything sharper.

alexia’s thumb finds your clit and starts circling and your hips jerk forward involuntarily. you’re both trembling now, trying to stay quiet, hands moving faster, breaths mingling hot and desperate.

she kisses you again, messy and urgent, like she can’t get enough.

you’re right on the edge already.

alexia can feel it. she curls her fingers deeper, stroking that spot inside you with devastating precision while her thumb keeps perfect pressure on your clit. 

her mouth is on your neck again, sucking, biting, whispering filthy little things against your skin.

“come on amor… let go for me.” the words combined with the steady rhythm of her fingers push you over. 

you come hard, clenching around her, thighs shaking as the orgasm crashes through you. 

you bury your face in her shoulder to muffle the sound, nails digging into her back through her shirt.

she doesn’t stop. she keeps fucking you through it, slower now, drawing it out until you’re trembling and oversensitive.

when you finally catch your breath you kiss her hard, tasting desperation. your fingers are still buried inside her, and you start moving again with renewed purpose. 

you match the pace she used on you, curling, stroking, thumb circling her swollen clit.

alexia’s hips stutter. her breathing turns broken and shallow.

“fuck… just like that,” she gasps.

you can feel her getting close. her walls flutter around your fingers, slick and hot. you add a third finger and she moans louder than she should, forehead pressed to yours, eyes half shut.

her hand is still between your legs, lazily stroking you even as she starts falling apart. 

the overstimulation makes you whimper but you don’t want her to stop.

“i’m gonna-” she chokes out.

“come for me,” you whisper against her mouth.

she does. hard. her whole body tenses, thighs clamping around your hand as she rides out the waves. 

you keep moving through it, gentler now, until she’s shaking and panting into your neck.

for a long moment the only sounds are both of you breathing heavily and the low drone of the plane engines.

alexia pulls back just enough to look at you. her cheeks are flushed, lips swollen, hair completely messed up. 

she looks wrecked in the best possible way. she brings her fingers to her mouth and slowly licks them clean, eyes locked on yours the entire time.

you nearly short-circuit all over again, and she grins at your expression, soft and satisfied. 

you both start fixing your clothes with shaky hands, stealing little kisses between adjustments. 

when you’re decent again she leans in and presses a gentler kiss to your forehead.

then, like it’s the most casual thing in the world, she murmurs, “so i’ll pick you up friday at eight.”

you blink, still a little dazed. “sorry?”

she smiles, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “unless you only wanted this to be a one time thing.”

“no- no i’d love to see you again,” you say quickly, heart doing something ridiculous in your chest. “but i don’t even have your number?”

alexia’s smile widens, warm and a little cocky. “well amor, we better fix that then, shouldn’t we?”

⸻