the sweetest soul you could possibly imagine! not sure i’ve ever felt this comfortable around someone so quickly, which is a bit scary but i’m enjoying it. she also lives 30 minutes away which is the closest i’ve ever been to someone so i might’ve popped to hers before she had work this morning 😅
you know she’s picking you up in her luxury car with your favourite drink already in the cup holder, sunglasses on, some kind of gift in the front seat, with plans to sit at her mansion and sunbathe in a tiny bikini for the rest of the day before a private chef caters a candlelit dinner whilst you talk about your ‘arrangement’
Summary: You and Alexia swore up and down that you would never get involved with a teammate. But strictly having sex only after big matches wouldn't put that rule in danger, would it? aka another friends with benefits fic
Word Count: 7.5k
Warnings: +18 (SMUT) • fingering (r giving and receiving) • oral (r receiving) • scisorring • choking (very lightly ok) • idiots in love • kika knows it!! • mentions of alcohol
☆ A/n: I hope this silly fic can alleviate some wounded hearts out there <3
You and Alexia had crossed your hearts and promised you would never do this. You had mumbled that exact same oath against each other's lips a few too many times until it became pathetic enough that you both just accepted the reality you found yourselves in, time after time.
During interviews with reports or locker room conversations, you and Alexia always stood your ground: you two would never get involved with a teammate. You'd never let any form of attraction stand in the way of professionalism, both on and off the pitch. You would never blur the invisible lines you had set.
You were both too dedicated, too focused, too professional for that kind of distraction, right?
Alexia was captain, and you, though not wearing the armband, were a veteran, deeply and well respected by the club for your history, mainly for choosing to come back after a few years abroad.
And yet, here you were, a year and a half into an arrangement that would probably send Lacan into a coma if he tried to psychoanalyse it – all that suppression of desire, the carefully constructed distance when you were around other people, all those unspoken rules about when it was acceptable to want each other and when it wasn't. When you could touch, or kiss or fuck. When it was okay to need Alexia, when it was okay to feel needed by her.
Your unconscious was your worst enemy. It needed Alexia all the time. So you shut it up at the gym, at home devouring book after book, at random bars looking for girls that looked like Alexia.
Your agreement centred around sex. You both had agreed it would only happen after big wins.
That was the deal, as idiotic as it sounded for adults who had a significantly high sex drive and who wanted each other badly half the time. You had even sat down to discuss what would be considered "big wins", treating it like a business conversation. You settled "big wins" on "significant victories", meaning league titles, cup finals, semifinals, crucial matches like El clásico, etc.
After all those months of great sex, you were now properly conditioned. A Pavlov dog.
Wins equalled reward. Reward equalled Alexia in your bed, or you in hers, her wet mouth trailing up and down your body while your fingers explored her every inch.
May had been a very, very busy month; three domestic trophies hinted at a lot of sex. And by that you meant A lot ... hours!
All that built-up suppression meant you spent entire nights tangled together in each other, only taking breaks to keep your body functioning enough to keep going for more. You only ever stop if one of you fell asleep, or if the sun was up.
May 23rd was a different day, though. Barça had just won the Champions League. ;)
May was indeed an amazing month.
The private bar in the southern district of Oslo was packed with your teammates, their families, partners, friends and the coaching staff. The music was loud, maybe a bit too loud for your ears, and the drinks were flowing freely, spilling onto expensive shoes, as people enjoyed themselves in the open bar.
Everybody was riding the high of being crowned Champions of Europe, even the ones who hadn't even stepped onto the pitch. Case in point? Kika's mom. She was currently the unequivocal queen of the dance floor.
The vibe was entirely gregarious, thrilling, something that you couldn't quite pin down with a single word. You tried to find the vocabulary for it while sitting in a quieter corner of the room, the glass of the one single piña colada you had allowed yourself cooling the palm of your hand.
One drink was just enough to take the edge off, enough to make your skin feel warm and your thoughts just a bit hazy, dangerously hazy, perhaps. The bits of alcohol relaxed you, your shoulders dropped, your brain slowed your thoughts, and a smile came to your face a little more easily.
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
The lyrics faded out around you, only for the next song to start:
Want more and more, people just want more and more
Freed from desire
Mind and senses purified
Those were just a couple of the songs that had played over the ten minutes you had been sitting there. Their lyrics were a tad too ironic given your current situation. Or perhaps, it was just one of those things where mundane occurrences felt severely personal, your brain desperately searching for clues to validate your thoughts, emotions, and action… bla bla bla. You had long forgotten the specifics of that uni class you took on human behaviour and cognitive dissonance back in the US.
Right now, you were trying to use that mechanism to validate your feelings about Alexia, taking any song as a sign from the universe that it wants Alexia to be between your legs soon enough.
Alcohol – or maybe just the high of the win – made you hyperaware of her. You could sense her across the room, watch the way her lips moved as she talked to her friend Miriam.
Your silly, tipsy brain actually thought it could decipher every word coming out of her mouth, shaping them into sentences that stroke your ego. You wanted her to be talking to Miriam about you. So, your mind simply invented that reality. Things were easy when you were buzzed; everything was far too simple, rules were negotiable, and your need for Alexia felt entirely merited and legitimate.
See? cognitive dissonance. It was one of your finest hobbies lately.
You watch Alexia, observe her as she moved around.
The captain was in full extroverted mode; it was the version of her that only emerged after major titles. She was dancing with Vicky now, laughing and taking pictures with Patri.
She had a drink in hand, one you knew for a fact would be far too sweet, with a fake-strawberry flavour. You would taste it on your lips later tonight, you were sure.
During celebrations, Alexia drank just enough to get tipsy, too, but unlike you, her tolerance could handle more than a single, miserable drink. She would have four, maybe five max, before switching to virgin drinks.
A bad bunny song started, and Alexia tracked down that goddam trophy, which had been her sole fascination for the last three hours, and began dancing with it in her hand, her jeans hugging the perfect shape of her ass.
She was a stark contrast to her usual quiet, shy, introverted self. This version wasn't necessarily better or worse; it was just different. She was still Ale, and you, as much as you tried to fight it, were still hopelessly you.
And this version was the only Alexia you had ever slept with. The high-adrenaline, post-victory, almost but not quite drunk Alexia, who was loose, and confident, and commanding in a way that made your stomach flip with butterflies.
You had never had her on a random Friday after training, you painfully realised. You had never seen what she was like when the adrenaline wasn't pumping in her veins, when the victory wasn't so fresh and raw, when she was just... herself.
You wondered if the sex would be different. Would it be softer, maybe? Less intense and emotionally charged? Would she be equally warm and fervent?
Or would she be exactly the same, because sex with Alexia was never just sex. For her, it was a very complex game, a way to open somebody up. Alexia was almost clinical in her precision, almost obsessive in her attention to detail.
While you viewed sex as a means to an end, a way to get off, to give someone an orgasm, to feel good and make someone else feel good, Alexia treated it like a dance. A deep involvement, an act she took her absolute time with.
She always kissed every bit of your skin. Always listened to every sound, and learned your body like it was a mystery she needed to solve. And god, you wanted her to take her time with you tonight.
"You are sooo nonchalant about her."
You jerked your attention away from Alexia to find Kika standing beside you, a knowing smirk on her face. One that scared you. "Ahn? What? What are you talking about?"
Kika took a sip of her artificial pink drink, gesturing with her chin toward the captain, "You are staring at Miss Catalunya right there."
"I'm not staring," you said, taking a sip of your own drink to cover. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm just resting–"
"You absolutely are." Kika slid into the seat next to you without an invitation; her eyes were twinkling with mischief. "You have been staring at her for the past ten minutes."
"I'm just… people-watching, okay?" you countered. "And you must be staring at me if you know exactly how long I've been sitting here–"
"And does this people-watching always involve looking at Alexia like you want to rip her clothes off with your teeth, or–"
"Kika," you warned, your voice dropping low. "I'm serious! Stop acting silly. There's nothing like that between us, you know that. We are friends! Colleagues even!"
Lying was so easy at this point; your only real problem was that you were not nearly as convincing as needed to be.
The Portuguese held up her hand, laughing teasingly at your grumpiness. "Calma! I'm just saying… You two have been acting weird for months. Don't think the rest of us haven't noticed, we have eyes everywhere." [calm down]
Your stomach dropped. You could feel the hollow organ actually fall all slimy to your feet. "W-we have not, I–"
"You have, though, and everyone's noticed. Well… mostly the younger girls and me, but still." She leaned in conspiratorially; her voice was low, meant for your ears only, but it was hard to understand her over the loud music. "Something's going on. I know it. I can literally sense the love in the air every time you two are in the same room."
"Nothing's going on between me and Ale" you said firmly, even as your heart rate picked up. "And there is definitely no love involved either!"
Maybe there was love. Maybe. Just a tiny bit. But it was small, the size of a fly. You could step into it, and it would go away.
"Okaaaay, sure," Kika said, but didn't sound convinced at all. You couldn't blame her.
"But just so you know, if something were going on, I think it's cute, tá bom? You two would be great together…You know," Kika began narrating everything as if it were a story in a book and not your life she was talking about. "The two legendary Barça players who had known each other for an eternity, who won every single trophy in existence side by side! It's more romantic than Romeo and Juliet, if you ask me! Oh… I just hope you both get a better ending." Then her excited face dramatically dropped into a sad pout.
Before you could respond, before your brain could even figure out what the hell to even say to that, Kika was already standing up, patting your shoulder affectionately, and wandering off to join the dance floor.
You drained the rest of your piña colada in one long gulp. You needed air. So much air, more air than this bar could provide and more than your lungs could take in.
The bar was getting too warm, too crowded, too much. Kika was entirely responsible for tangling your neurons together, leaving you unable to think properly. And no, the pina colada had nothing to do with it, nor did the heating pooling low in your belly from your desperate need for Alexia.
You slipped outside to the small patio area, where the night air was cool and crisp and exactly what you needed. You almost wished it would rain, that a downpour would just wash over you. You were never one for dramatics, but tonight felt like the perfect time to start.
The team had been noticing.
But noticing what, exactly?
You and Alexia had been friends for years, more than ten. You had never seen each other as anything other than friends, and truth be told, you hadn't even been that close.
You had lost contact a few years ago when you moved to play for Orlando Pride. It was only two years ago that you signed back with the club of your life. Alexia had been dating someone else at the time, so she was completely off limits.
Still, you couldn't help but notice how she had grown into such a beautiful woman. She was just a couple of years older than you, but she always carried a bit of a baby face; now, at thirty-two, she had fully grown into her features.
It was after she tore her ACL that things changed, that massive injury and the long pause from football seemed to be when she lost the last trace of that girlhood softness. She was different now. Or maybe your eyes were just different.
Then she broke up with her girlfriend, and that's when it happened.
You had been out there for maybe ten minutes when the door creaked open behind you. You didn't need to turn around to know who it was; that strawberry scent from her drink mixed with her honey shampoo made it clear.
"Are we hiding now?" Alexia's voice was warm and amused. "I was looking for you, but you were gone."
"I just needed a break," you said, still facing away from her. "Too loud in there, no?"
You heard her footsteps, feeling her presence as she came to stand right beside you, close enough that you could almost feel the heat from her.
"Kika cornered you," Alexia said, and it wasn't a question. "I saw her. I thought about trying to save you, but…"
"She thinks something's going on," you said straightforwardly. "Actually, she is very certain of it. We should probably sit down and make up a very good lie about why we always seem to gravitate towards each other after a win."
"Huh, like right now?" Alexia murmured, her breath dangerously close to your ear.
"Like right now," you murmured back, turning to look at her.
"We have been careful, nena", Alexia said. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed from dancing and alcohol. "But Kika is... observant."
"Too observant."
She looked at you, studying you. "Are you worried about it?"
You considered it for a moment, "I don't know. Maybe we should cool it for a while? The media and the girls will--"
"Is that what you want?" Alexia's gaze was suddenly sharpened. You knew better than anyone else that she did not like to be rejected. "To cool it?"
"No, I really don't," you admitted softly. "But–"
"We won the Champions League tonight," Alexia said, her voice all tender once again. She took a step closer, your bodies touching now. "That was the deal, wasn't it? Big wins? Sex right after?"
Your breath caught in your throat. "Yes, Ale. I know about our deal. It's just that–"
"Tell me you don't want this, and I'll go back inside," she said, and there was something vulnerable in her voice despite the confidence in her posture. "Tell me you want to cool it, and we will. I won't chase after you anymore, and we'll go back to being just friends."
You should say yes. Should tell her you wanted to stop, that this whole arrangement was getting too complicated, too risky, too dangerous for your own heart.
But all you could think about was the feeling of her hands on your bare skin, her wet mouth tracing patterns across your body, and the way she looked at you in the dark of the night as if you were something to be savoured.
"I don't want to cool it," you whispered finally.
Alexia's lips curved into a slow, beautiful, small smile. "Good. Because neither do I."
You managed to leave the bar separately. Alexia left first, claiming she was tired, and you followed about twenty minutes later. You didn't give anyone an excuse for your departure. At this point, you knew any lies you attempted would only make it obvious exactly what (or who) you were after.
No one seemed suspicious of Alexia. Or if they were, they were simply too drunk and ecstatic to care. Your absence went unnoticed, too; your phone remained blissfully silent in your pocket. You couldn't help but smile as you stepped into the back of a taxi heading towards the hotel.
When you finally reached her room on the seventh floor, you started the same careful dance you had performed a dozen times before. But tonight felt different. Maybe it was the magnitude of the win. Maybe it was the single pina colada loosening your inhibitions. Or maybe it was Kika's lingering comment about the two of you being good together, and all that silly nonsense about love.
Whatever it was, the moment Alexia opened the door and pulled you inside, all the growing tension ruptured into a kiss. Alexia kissed you with an intensity that made your knees instantly weak, and you felt something shift between you two.
This wasn't just a post-match reward anymore. This was something… deeper. It felt as if she wanted to prove a point, to show you that you couldn't live without her. That there was absolutely no way you could ever "cool things off".
Alexia took her time, she always did, but it felt even more deliberate… was it predatory? Her hands mapped every centimetre of your skin, as if she were trying to memorise your anatomy. Her lips followed the trail of her fingers, pressing heavy and bruising kisses into places that made you gasp, places that forced you to arch into her touch.
"Ale," you breathed, your fingers tangling in her hair.
"Shh," she murmured against your collarbone, her warm breath sending a shiver running through you, "Let me."
And you did.
You let her take you apart piece by piece, slowly and methodically. Every touch was calculated to draw a reaction. Every kiss was placed exactly where she knew it would make you completely fall apart.
It was overwhelming. It was perfect. You needed more. It was just not enough. It was also starting to feel dangerously less like just sex and more like something unnamed.
You pulled her face closer as Alexia lay naked on top of you, both of you letting out a moan, sharing the same shallow breath.
You and Alexia fit together with terrifying perfection, the alignment of your pelvis, the friction of bone against bone, the heavy brush of your breasts, the curve of your collarbones and shoulders. But above all, your mouth. Alexia slid her tongue into your mouth, and you sucked on it, reaching for me, demanding to taste her and that sugary drink that still tinged her tongue.
Alexia was a biter. Her lips nipped at your sensitive skin, leaving mark after dark mark against your throat, and she clearly did not give a damn if you would have to use concealer to hide them from the cameras and teammates tomorrow.
She did not care at all. The analytical and pragmatic version of herself melted while in bed; she let her instinct take over, and her instincts were flawless; she knew exactly where to suck, where to bite, where to slap, and where to caress.
You were so utterly lost too in the assault of different sensations that you barely realised that Alexia's hands had moved from your waist. Her fingernails were scratching your abdomen lightly, dragging downward.
You whined against her lips, wanting those hands on your thighs, wanting them inside you. You wanted her to fill the ache, only she knew how.
You had slept with other people in the months between your rendezvous with Alexia, but not a single one of the girls had been able to make you come properly. Eventually, you had just given up on everyone else entirely. None of them compared.
"You like it, no, nena?" Alexia's voice carried that inflexion of arrogance, the tone of a woman who knew what she was capable of doing to you. "You like it a lot. You have been thinking about me wanting you all night, haven't you?"
Her wicked words and even more wicked fingers were doing unspeakable things to your body, sending your pulse skyrocketing. Your jugular throbbed so violently beneath her touch that it felt as if it might burst if she didn't slide her hand lower soon.
"Tell me, corazón," Alexia murmured, her lips catching your earlobe roughly, biting down hard enough to make you whimper. "Let me hear your voice."
"I thought about you wanting me," you breathed, your legs trembling so badly you could barely manage to keep your thighs open.
"And what do you want me to do to you?" Alexia asked, you sensed her smile flutter against your pulse point, and God, you wanted her to bite you again.
Her fingers kept teasingly moving lower, tracing every part of your body, every birthmark, every scar, teasing and mocking your lack of control. You were going mad. Alexia's low voice and skilful fingers would be your undoing.
"You can do whatever you want," you panted. Alexia's smirk only grew; she deftly ran her tongue over one of the small bruises already flowering on your neck. "
"I've wanted you too, nena," Alexia whispered, calling back to what you said before. Her mouth was once again teasing your ear, and you wondered if that was her favourite spot. If not, it was a close second.
She let out a hot puff of air, nipping gently at the reddened skin. No amount of makeup was going to save you tomorrow. Everyone in the team would look at you and know someone had fucked you silky, leaving you this weak, this powerless, this beautifully undone.
They just wouldn't know that the someone in question was their captain. The captain who was currently branding you just like she always did. Alexia was a possessive little creature, and not-so-secretly, you enjoyed being hers.
"Ale, please" you moaned, your eyes closing shut as her fingers finally traced your inner thigh, slipping inside your pussy.
You were soaking for her. So pathetically wet for her.
Alexia let you accommodate to the depth of her two fingers, slowing down to press a line of small, sweet kisses against your lower lip, mindful of the previous bites she had left there just minutes ago.
There were such gentle, tender kisses that you trembled at the sheer affection of them. More often than not, you didn't associate softness with yourself, as if you didn't deserve it. So why was Alexia softer now?
"I want you all the time, corazón," Alexia whispered, her finger starting to move in a steady, agonising rhythm.
The sensation of her stretching you inside was overwhelming, the inaction burn instantly overtaken by the pure exaltation of relief. Finally, you had her.
Alexia continued to move her fingers in and out of your clenching pussy, her free hand coming up to rest flat on your neck. She applied the right amount of pressure. The devil-woman was very much aware of how much you loved choking, and, easy like that, she was commanding your body to come for her on the spot.
"Fuck me, please," you whimpered, shifting your hips as her pelvis pressed tightly against he own hand, driving the penetration even deeper. Dizzy. You were so dizzy.
"I am fucking you, bebe," Alexia murmured, her voice filled with satisfaction. "And I do my job so well, don't I?"
She curved her hand firmly around the base of your throat, restricting your air, making your vision grow pleasantly hazy as your blood flow constricted. "Like this. You love it when I hold you down, right?"
You let out a needy whimper, the words barely coherent, but Alexia understood it.
"Of course you like it, mi campeona," she smirked. She released the pressure on your neck as your cheek flushed a deep crimson, her thumb immediately caressing the sensitive skin she had just been dominating. "You are so wet… Tan mojada."
"I'm almost there," you pouted, hips twitching. "Please, please, I'm almost-"
"You want to cum?" Alexia asked, her eyes locked onto yours. "Want to soak my sheets? Drench my hands?"
"Please?" You begged desperately. "Can I?"
You could feel your orgasm closer. Her fingers moved faster, going deeper, searching for your own limit.
"Of course you can," Alexia whispered, her tone suddenly shifting into something so breathtakingly tender it hurt. "We just won the Champions League, amor. Mi amor. Tonight, you can have whatever you want."
Alexia moved her thumb, pinpointing a very specific spot on your clit, and within seconds, you were coming. The orgasm ripped through you, stealing every last drop of oxygen from your lungs.
You arched your back into her, trembling as she pulled her fingers out, only for her tongue to instantly swipe from your clit down to your slit. A gasp caught in your throat, and you weakly pushed at her shoulder.
"Too much," you mumbled, barely possessing the strength to resist; your arms were too heavy to move.
"Let me taste you, corazón," Alexia murmured against your wet folds.
You looked down through heavy-lidded eyes as she kissed her way back to your pussy. "I spent the whole day thinking about this. You taste, your scent… how badly I wanted my face buried in tu coño."
"Oh," you moaned, throwing your hand up to cover your face. The sensory overload was too intense; a second orgasm was already starting to build, just as intense as the first one. "Fuck, ale, it's too much-"
"Sh," she whispered against your heat, her tongue thrusting inside your entrance before lapping up at your wetness. "Don't fight it, nena. Just let it come to you."
"I can't," you cried out, trying to tilt your pelvis away, but Alexia stopped it, placing a heavy hand on your hip. "I can't I–"
"You can,' Alexia said, her voice not leaving room for you to fight her. "You can because I said so. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't know you couldn't handle it. So just fucking lie there and come on my tongue."
Her words were the trigger you needed. Your walls clamped down around n her tongue, and your orgasm washed over you in a wave of translucent liquid. Wetting the bedding, ruining her sheet, coating your inner tights and her whole face.
"Joder," Alexia groaned, swallowing your release. She kept lapping at you, but now, the overwhelming pleasure was begging to cross the line into pain.
"No, no more, please," you whimpered, gently tugging at her hair to pull her up.
Aleixa immediately alleviated the pressure, kissing her way away from your clit, and pressing soft and soothing kisses on your inner thigh. "Just cleaning you up now, mi amor, sí?"
The feeling was so intense you didn't realise it wasn't the first time Alexia had called you amor tonight. But whatever, maybe she was just too pussy drunk.
"You are dripping everywhere," she muttered, her voice low. Her palm pressed firmer against your thigh, forcing wider over her shoulder so your pussy stayed fully exposed to her.
She dragged her tongue lower, circling your entrance before pushing inside just enough to make you clench. She continued to tend to your pussy, her tongue still warm, but incredibly tender now. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a voice whispered that she was doing that more as an act of self-indulgence than anything else.
"Tienes un sabor tan dulce," she mumbled against you. [You taste so sweet.]
You gasped, a sharp flare of oversensitivity striking you as she sucked gently on your outer lips, cleaning every trace of your release with wet sounds. Alexia kept lapping at your folds with slow strokes, her tongue dragging through the slick mess until your whimpers grew sharper again.
"Okay, okay, that's enough," she murmured, more to herself than to you.
She pulled, leaving what you thought was a final kiss right on your clit that made your hips twitch. She reached down for the Campeonas shirt crumpled on the floor, using the soft fabric to gently wipe between your thighs, soaking up the wetness.
Because she couldn't help herself, she pressed one more tender kiss right on your centre before moving up your body to face you. Her lips brushed your nose first, then claimed your mouth in a deep kiss. Her tongue pushed in to swirl around yours, forcing the taste of your own release across your palate.
"See? That's why I couldn't stop," she whispered against your lips. "See how you taste? Good, no?"
Your cheeks flushed hot. Your mind was hazy and slow to form proper thoughts.
"I get sensitive when I squirt," you mumbled, trying to explain to her why you had to end her fun so soon.
Alexia smiled. "I know," she said, tugging the duvet over both of you. "And cold too, if I remember correctly."
You lay there catching your breath while she peppered lazy kisses along your jaw and neck. Your hand trailed down the mattress, moving slowly until your fingers found her pussy, touching it without any hurry.
You slid one finger inside her easily, testing the slickness, and Alexia moaned low, her face pressing into your neck as her walls tightly clenched around your finger.
You cupped her face and drew her into another kiss, sliding a second finger alongside the first inside her dripping pussy. "You are wet, wetter than me," you whispered on her lips.
She let out a low chuckle. "That would be impossible, nena."
You smiled at her arrogance and rolled your eyes, then guided her head down to rest against your neck properly. Her body shifted naturally on top of yours, her thighs spreading wide so your hand could keep working between her legs without pause.
"Good?" you asked, brushing kisses across her flushed cheeks.
Alexia needed that slow, steady rhythm to build up her orgasm; she actually hated to be rushed when it was her turn to come. Your fingers already ached slightly from the constant motion, but you kept the pace even and deep.
"Uhum," she murmured, voice thick with desire. "Tan bona."
"Want one more finger?" you offered, your thumb circling her clit,
"Don't know if it will fit," she moaned, her hips grinding down to meet your hand, clearly betraying her own words.
"You're very wet, Ale. It will." You eased the third finger in gradually, stretching her open while monitoring every twitch and gasp she let out.
Once all three were buried knuckle deep in her pussy, you resumed the thrusts, curling and stroking her inner walls with consistent pressure that had her breathing turn ragged against your neck.
She clutched desperately at your shoulders, her thighs trembling as the tension finally snapped. Her pussy tightened around your fingers, pulsing hard through the orgasm while she buried her face deeper into the crook of your neck, muffling low words you couldn't quite understand.
You kept her hand still, letting her ride out her orgasm on your fingers until she finally softened.
She let out a chuckle. "Joder," she breathed, kissing your jaw before you slid off your hamd. "Fuck, gràcies."
Seemingly, she wasn't done with you… not close.
You let her take the lead again, guiding your body exactly how she wanted. There was such a beautiful duality to her, soft everywhere, yet her muscles stayed firm from all the training she had done through the years.
She spread your legs again, her eyes falling on you for a second before she dipped her head between them. When she sucked your clit into her mouth, a gasp left your lips. The pull was gentle, her tongue slow, while you sank helplessly back into the mattress.
It felt less like foreplay now and more like she simply wanted the taste of you; she wanted the closeness, wanted to consume you. Her low voice hummed against your skin as she worked on you all over again.
When she finally pulled away, her face was glistening. She bit into your inner thigh, then hooked your leg over her shoulder once more. She shifted up, lining her soaked pussy directly over yours.
The moment the wet heats fused together, you let out a collective groan. Alexia didn't wait to accommodate herself; she started rocking her hips, grinding her clit against yours in a perfect slide. She was dripping.
"Ohh," you moaned, eyes locked on the way your slick folds pressed and parted with every roll of her hips. Every move of her made a wet, squelching and embarrassing sound that echoed through the hotel room. It sounded so devastatingly hot and prohibited; it only made it all more thrilling.
"Yes, Ale. Grind against me, bebé."
Alexia kept the pace slow. Her chest was pressed against yours, breast against breast. "So good… joder."
Her hip continued the motion relentlessly, your clit meeting every single time. She was pinning you down with her weight, taking everything you had to give her. "You feel so good, corazón–"
The friction was becoming too much, the heat far too intense. "Alexia… please!" You cried, tossing your head even further back into the pillows.
"Fuck," she panted against your lips while her pace became faster. "I'm close too, mi amor, fuck–"
Your walls spasmed first; you didn't know if it was the reason that triggered her orgasm, but Alexia shattered right after. She let out a loud cry into your mouth as her pelvis locked hard against yours, her body rigid as her orgasm took over. Underneath her, you were coming just as intensely, your vision already opaque, your mouth completely dry.
Slowly, you both relax, too much exhaustion in your muscles. Alexia's body collapsed fully on top of you; the poor thing was spent. You wrapped your arms around her back, welcoming her.
You didn't say a thing, but it was obvious that the invisible line you had feared crossing for so long had been blurred beyond recognition. Yet, as your eyes closed, all you cared about was that Alexia was sleeping next to you.
The sleep didn't last too long, though.
You woke up around thirty minutes later with the sensation of Alexia's fingers tracing lines across your shoulder blade.
"Hi," she murmured, her voice sleepy.
"Mhm," you mumbled, pressing your face directly into her (warm) neck. You were so sleepy, so tired. "Shhh, quiet."
She allowed you a few minutes of silence to properly wake up. But the moment she spoke again, she went right to the point, as if whatever was on her mind had made a home there for a long time.
"Ey nena, do you ever wonder…" she began quietly, breaking the comfortable silence, not quite looking at you, choosing to focus on the hotel's tv. "What would this be like if it wasn't just after wins?"
"Mhm? What do you mean?" you asked, rubbing your eyes and already knowing exactly what she meant. You had been torturing yourself with the exact thoughts at the club earlier, although you never articulated them.
"Just…" she trailed off. "I think I want to know what it would be like to be with you when we don't have to sneak around and hide in hotel rooms. Like… would the sex be different? Would we be different?"
Okay. Calm. Be calm!! It's happening!
"I ask myself that, too," you confessed to her, the conversation making you feel more awake.
"What do you wonder about?" Alexia asked.
You thought for a moment, picking up her hands and playing with her long fingers.
"Mainly if the sex would be softer. Maybe less..." You struggled to find the right word. "Less intense…? I feel like we try to give our absolute best and squeeze in every single position we can think of, simply because we only get to this a handful of times a season, you know?"
Alexia's lips curved into a small smile. "Oh, so you think I'm intense?"
"I think you approach sex like you are trying to win a prize." You rolled your eyes playfully. "Trying to win the gold medal."
"And is that a bad thing?" She asked, her eyes light narrowed.
"No, of course not," you said honestly, looking up to her, kissing her chin because why not? "It's incredible. You are incredible. I just..."
Alexia shifted, propping herself up on one elbow so she could look at you properly. "You just wonder if this is all we are. If this arrangement is all we can ever be."
Your breath caught instantly. "Yeah… exactly."
She was quiet again.
"I know we agreed this was supposed to be simple," Alexia said softly. "A way to... release tension after big matches. No complications and no real feelings, etc."
"...And now?" you asked, feeling a dangerous spark of hope.
"And now I think about you at the most random times," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think about you during training. I think about what it would be like to have you in ways that have nothing to do with football."
You felt like you couldn't breathe, as if the oxygen in the room had dissipated. This is exactly what you had been unconsciously waiting months for. "Ale-
"But I'm also scared," she continued. "We both swore we would never do this. Never get involved with a teammate. And well…look at us."
"We're not... involved," you tried to say, even to yourself; it sounded weak. "Not really."
Alexia gave you a look that clearly said you were full of bullshit.
"Aren't we?" She asked, looking down at your naked body, only covered by the duvet. "This is as involved as I have been with someone in a while, nena."
You didn't have an answer for that; maybe it didn't exist. So instead, you reached up to her, wrapping your hand on the nape of her neck and pulling her down to kiss her.
The kiss was slow and tender; it was made to shatter every rule you both had ever made. There was still the faint taste of you in her mouth; you wished Alexia hadn't grown tolerant of that.
When you finally pulled apart, Alexia rested her forehead against yours. She was breathless and flushed and perfect. Suddenly, you wanted to completely claim her as yours.
"What are we doing, Ale?" you whispered in the dark. "What does it all mean?"
"I don't know," she admitted, her thumb lazily tracking your cheekbone. "But I want you, corazón."
"Even though it breaks every single rule we made?"
"I don't think I care about those rules, if I'm being honest," she chuckled. "They were kind os stupid."
You couldn't help the smile that escaped you. "That is so very unlike you, capitana. You live for rules, don't you?"
"I think I live for you more," she said suddenly.
The words hung between you.
You could see the exact moment Alexia realised what had just slipped past her lips, the way her eyes darkened with a flicker of panic.
You would think it was a rehearsed line with how easily she said it, but it was an accident. A truth that had been suppressed.
"I—" she started, and her posture stiffened, as if she wanted to take every single word and swallow it down.
"Don't," you interrupted her spiralling, moving your hand to cup her jaw. "Don't take the words back, bebé. Say them properly."
"What?" she breathed, looking tapped.
"Say it again. Please, Ale."
Alexia's expression softened, and she closed her eyes and swallowed hard. "I love you," she whispered. "Te quiero, corazón."
Your heart was doing somersaults, and a wave of warmth took over your body. "Te quiero, Ale."
"Sí?" She asked, eyes wide.
"Yeah." You pulled her into another kiss "I think I have for a while now, but I didn't have the courage to say it."
"Me too," Alexia murmured. "I kept trying to convince myself it was just physical, just the arrangement, the adrenaline, but it wasn't."
"It never was, right?" You were staring at her pink lips.
So sweet they were.
Your sweet, sweet girl.
You stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other, processing what you had both just admitted.
"So what do we do now?" Alexia asked after you both had taken a shower and had something to eat.
"I'm not sure," you murmured, getting even closer to her. "This is... complicated, no? A bit humiliating considering we always went out of our way to talk about how we would never be with a teammate?'
"I think we are hypocritical," Alexia agreed, smiling.
"The team will definitely think that, too," you said, already imagining the teasing.
"They will probably be insufferable about it," Alexia said, her eyes as lifeless as yours, thinking about the future teasing. She didn't handle teasing very well. "Especially Kika… she scares me sometimes."
You laughed. "We are big girls. I think we can handle Kika and the others."
"Yeah, you are right," Alexia said slowly. "But also, I don't think I care that much…"
You pulled back to look at her. "No? You hate it when the kids make fun of you."
"Yeah, I don't appreciate much of the team banter, but when it comes to us… We are professionals, aren't we? We've proven that years ago. This… thing between us hasn't really affected our performance. If anything, we have won more since we started having sex."
"That's... probably not a correlation we should mention to the team, though," you said, your index finger to your chin.
Alexia grinned. "Probably not."
"So you want to... what?" You asked. "Tell them? Make this official? Or let them figure it out on their own.
"It would be nice for us to tell them… eventually. But right now–" She pecked your lips. "–I just want to see where this goes. No more rules about only having sex after victories, no more pretending this is just physical… just us, okay?"
"Okay," you smiled. "I think I like us a lot."
"Good." Alexia kissed you again, softer "So... does this mean I can take you to dinner? On a proper date."
Now you were properly grinning. "Only if it's an Arabic food place."
She rolled her eyes. "Deal."
"And then," you continued, kissing her chin, then moving to her neck. Your hand came to her waist as you straddle her hips, your breast right in front of her face, you could see she was trying to look in your eyes, and not down. "Maybe we can find out what it's like to have sex when we aren't tipsy or on an adrenaline high…?"
Alexia smirked, her hand tracing your side up and down, until she settled on your hips. "It would be a lovely discovery, wouldn't it?"
"Yeah," you nodded. "It would. I think we would be slower and–"
"Soft?" She suggested.
"Yes," you said, bringing her thumb to counter the shape of your lips. "I think we have a problem, though… I might be too eager to wait till them."
In the end, you did find out, right then.
And it turned out that Alexia, without the victory high, was, if possible, even more devastating. She was indeed softer, sweeter, but just as intense.
Somehow, the sex was even better.
The end.
Or is it?
Three Weeks Later
"I fucking knew it!" Kika crowed when you and Alexia finally, officially told the team, after they caught you kissing in the locker room when you thought no one was around.
"We all knew it," Vicky said, looking entirely too smug.
"I didn't know," Patri said, looking genuinely surprised. "Why didn't anybody tell me!?"
"How could you not?" Clara asked, just as surprised. "They used to disappear after every big game to do… god knows what."
Alexia rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, at ease. You loved seeing her like that, relaxed and soft.
"So you are really together?" Patri asked, eyeing you both suspiciously. "Like, for real?"
"Yep!" you confirmed, popping the P.
"It was about time," Kika said. "The sexual tension was exhausting to watch… it was getting seriously depressing,"
"It really was," Ona agreed. "We thought about playing cupid to see if we could bring you two together… but it seems that Oslo did that just fine."
The defender winked, and Alexia's face heated up, but then her smile slowly turned into a grin.
"It was a very good night, indeed," Alexia said, kissing your temple.
A/n: Honestly I only wanted to write the smut, but I feel like it needed a bit of context around it, that's why the scenes might feel a little bit disconnect?
no lmao, she turned out to be terrible at communicating, saying she wanted things but never actioning them, and very hot and cold which i’m not a fan of!
Took a whole exhausting year to think of that had it saved for you personally , I’ll think of something more creative next year happy birthday though hope all is well 🫶🏻
