lwwife

Inbox always open for questions, requests, and discussions about literally anything 🫶 Mostly reblogs!

[lwwife]

🤍MASTERLIST🤍

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LEAH WILLIAMSON FIC MASTERLIST

LEAH WILLIAMSON BODY PART SERIES

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ALEXIA PUTELLAS FIC MASTERLIST

ALEXIA PUTELLAS APPRECIATION

ALEXIA PUTELLAS SOCIAL MEDIA SNIPPETS

ALEXIA AND OLGA PHOTOS

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WORKS IN PROGRESS

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I don’t write teen/child readers or platonic relationships :)

Feel free to ask questions, start convos, or request things in my inbox!

[didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback]

alexia wants to make sure you work your angles 📐

[ellieputellas]

let’s keep it secret | leah williamson x reader

— Leah accidentally posts a photo of Actress!Reader on her Instagram, sparking relationship rumors ♡ tags: secret relationship, some angst, some fluff, smau, ldr (reader working abroad), inspired by this request || guide: Leah’s phone pov if text bubbles in blue & reader’s phone pov when bubbles are in red

a/n: finally getting started on some of my smau requests! i rlly liked this req and i’m thankful to @alotofpockets for suggesting it! i hope everyone liked it. i whipped it up rlly quick so may be rough around the edges but also just wnted to post something as a little treat for new years day 🤍 happy new year everyone!

[ellieputellas]

2 hands | part 4

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ smau wherein Alexia accidentally uses her main account to like and comment on Model!Reader's post | tags: fluff, model!reader, angst, drama fic masterlist ୨ৎ one ୨ৎ two ୨ৎ three ୨ৎ four ୨ৎ five

part 5 ♡ timeline might be confusing but just imagine alexia watching yn blow up in the months following their breakup. sorry i had to extend it to another part! i hate tumblrs max photo limit! are you guys still reading and enjoying? <3 i appreciate ur likes, reblogs, and comments. LAST part to be posted soon! comment anything if u wanna be added to the taglist pls ୨ৎ @lizzeolsenismommy @wosoaus @veebeewoso @96tidal @wheeniemyloove @alotofpockets @batllexreina @femmeputellas @pinkhavenn @mccabescooneycross @veebeewoso @wosobarcalover @a1exia9ute11as @whiskeredshrimp-blog @lynchloverr @mccabeskcc @alexialareina @wosolipa @lizzieolsenismommy @caevyre @nattiesangel @simp4women08 @micaluvssoccer @miaereen @annawilk @a1exia9ute11as @wosoloversthings @bonmatellisme @speedup500 @maddyawfc @profoundmakerkidgentlemen @alexialareina @wosoaus

[ellieputellas]

2 hands | part three

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ smau wherein Alexia accidentally uses her main account to like and comment on Model!Reader's post | tags: fluff, model!reader, angst, drama fic masterlist ୨ৎ one ୨ৎ two ୨ৎ three ୨ৎ four

part 4 ♡ a/n: my struggle with this part man… i had to reupload it like 3 times because it kept being filtered, meaning some users wouldnt be able to see it. ugh tumblr fix ur censorship system. how is my sill fic censored but not actual 🌽 anyway sorry rant over… just a little something before christmas! i know there are spelling and grammar errors and that’s totally intentional… ro make it more realistic…. or maybe i got too lazy to edit… hahaha! anyway, will take a couple daya off for the holidays but after that, i have a few things ready for u all! as always, luv and appreciate ur thoughts so message and comment pls! ur support is the reason why i still keep writing and i rlly appreciate it <3 comment anything to get added to the taglist and get notified when part 4 is up

(also felt bad that i left u guys with an angsty ending so here’s a fluff smau unrelated to 2hands to make up for it) ୨ৎ @lizzeolsenismommy @wosoaus @veebeewoso @96tidal @wheeniemyloove @alotofpockets @batllexreina @femmeputellas @pinkhavenn @mccabescooneycross @veebeewoso @wosobarcalover @a1exia9ute11as @whiskeredshrimp-blog @lynchloverr @mccabeskcc @alexialareina @wosolipa @lizzieolsenismommy @caevyre @nattiesangel @simp4women08 @micaluvssoccer @miaereen @annawilk

[didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback]

I never realized how big her gay panic was until i saw this gif LMAO

babe, where you been for the last month?! why do you think we clown on alexia so hard? 😂

[ellieputellas]

2 hands | part two

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ smau wherein Alexia accidentally uses her main account to like and comment on Model!Reader's post | tags: fluff, model!reader, angst part one ୨ৎ part two ୨ৎ part three

୨ৎ part three (link to part 3 will be added once uploaded) a/n: hey guys! here comes the conflict! anyway, sorry this isnt as polished as the last part like layout-wise. i was pretty tired when i made this but i hope it still gets the story flowing well! anyway, so what do you guys think olaya will ask yn? what drama is gonna unfold now... comment anything to get added to the taglist and get notified when part 3 is up ୨ৎ @lizzeolsenismommy @wosoaus @veebeewoso @96tidal @wheeniemyloove @alotofpockets @batllexreina @femmeputellas @pinkhavenn @mccabescooneycross

[purplereina11]

Part 19

You go to your cousins wedding in Spain, and you catch the eye of the Alexia Putellas, she unintentionally becomes your plus one

Wordcount: 4.4k of nothingness

Other Parts

The moment you step through the door, you don’t even bother taking off your shoes properly. You’re too caught up in your own excitement, practically vibrating with it.

“Alexia” You call into the house like a kid coming home from school, “Alexia!”

Her voice floats back from the kitchen, warm and amused, “Yes?”

You follow the sound instantly, moving fast, practically skidding around the corner. Eli and Alba are sitting at the table helping chop vegetables. You kiss both their cheeks in one breathless sweep, offering them a bright smile before your attention snaps straight to Alexia.

She’s standing at the counter, mixing something in a bowl, her hair tied loosely, her lips pulling into a soft smile the second she sees you, “Guess what?” you say, bouncing on your feet as you step into her space and peck her lips quickly.

She laughs under her breath, “You excited muppet.”

Behind you, Alba is already translating for Eli, who watches on fondly while shaking her head at your energy, you’re too wired to notice, you shrug off your jacket and let it hit the floor without a second thought, causing Alba to snort and Alexia to lift one judgmental eyebrow.

“I’ve been talking to Miriam,” you rush out. “And I know she runs the day to day of the foundation for you, but she wants me to run my idea past you.”

Alexia pauses, hands slowing as she stirs, she side eyes you suspiciously, “What’s your idea?”

“Okay, so hear me out,” you say, already bending over your bag to dig out your notebook. “I know you heavily fund the foundation, and that’s amazing, but, your active playing years will stop eventually. Which means the amount you can personally put in, and the donations you get because you’re you, will naturally decrease” Alba translates quickly in the background, Eli nods with interest, watching you like she loves seeing you so passionate, “So,” you continue, flipping pages frantically, “I was thinking we could make it more self sufficient!” Alexia stops what she’s doing completely, turns around fully and you have her attention now. “So I spoke to Emily, and we have a company we work with that would one hundred percent work with you. They could make, like, little Eleven football kits, scarves, merch, all of it! Stuff the kids would love, stuff the fans would support. It’d bring in its own income!" You finally land on the right page, breathless. “Look! Look, I drew designs. Miriam loves it, but she told me I have to ask you because, well… it’s your baby.”

Alexia is very quiet, too quiet. She takes the notebook from your hands and flicks through it page by page, her brows drawing together as she reads every detail, every sketch you spent the morning perfecting while having coffee with Miriam.

Your stomach caves a little, “Have I done too much?” you ask softly, “Have I… overstepped?”

Alexia looks up at you, her eyes are full of something heavy, warm, emotional in a way that makes your throat tighten, “You do all this?” she asks, voice quiet.

You open your mouth to answer but she steps closer, cupping your cheek with one flour dusted hand.

“No,” she says before you can spiral. “No, mi muppet. You didn’t overstep.” Her voice breaks, just slightly. “I love it.” Then she kisses you, a soft, grateful, grounding kiss that steals your breath and makes Eli smile knowingly at Alba. Alexia pulls back just enough to speak against your lips, “It means more than you’ll ever know that you support me with the foundation.”

Your voice drops, softer than before, “It’s important to you." Your hands slide up her sides, grounding her as much as she grounds you, “So it’s important to me.”

Alexia is still holding your notebook, her thumb brushing over one of the little kit designs you sketched, when Eli suddenly asks you a question from behind her. You turn, answer her without hesitation in Catalan.

It isn’t perfect, but it’s warm, clear, and confident enough that Eli’s face lights up as she beams at you.

“Molt bé, carinyo,” Eli praises softly, patting your arm.

Alexia’s head snaps up like she just witnessed a ghost walk through the kitchen, Alba grins, “She’s been practising.”

Her eyes lock onto you wide, stunned, almost offended in the funniest way, “Perdona?” she says, stepping closer. “Since when do you speak Catalan?!”

You shrug, nonchalant, closing your notebook, “I don’t,” you tease. “I’m trying, there's a big difference”

Alexia blinks twice, still processing, “You answered my mum. In Catalan. Perfectly.”

You step closer to Alexia, lowering your voice, “I’ve been learning quietly. I wanted to understand the things said around me… the things you say. The things your family says, I wanted to actually be able to have a conversation with your mami”

Alexia looks genuinely floored now, her lips parting but no sound coming out.

You raise an eyebrow. “You okay?”

She nods way too fast, her voice slightly shaky, “You… you’re learning my language.”

“Well, yeah,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s important to you. Which means”

Alexia finishes your sentence for you, whisper softly, “it’s important to you.”

You smile, “Exactly, plus if I'm living here half the time I can't always rely on you to order me pizza over the phone”

Alexia laughs before her face softens in a way you’ve never seen, her throat works once before she steps in, hands sliding around your waist, forehead resting against yours, “You’re going to make me cry in front of my mami,” she murmurs, half laughing, half emotional.

Eli chuckles in the background, “Ja està enamorada,” she says knowingly.

You don’t understand that one yet but Alexia blushes so red you know it must’ve been something. She kisses your cheek gently, almost reverently, “That means everything to me, muppet,” she whispers. “More than you know.”

You grin, “Wait till you hear me try new words. You’re gonna fall in love all over again.”

Alexia laughs, burying her face in your neck, “I already am.”

☀️

Over the next month, your lives fall into a quiet, purposeful rhythm one that exists mostly behind the scenes, away from stadium lights and headlines.

You and Alexia spend long afternoons with Miriam at the dining room table, laptops open, notebooks spread everywhere. While Alexia listens and weighs decisions carefully, you dive straight in, asking questions, sketching ideas, pulling timelines together. Miriam watches it all with open admiration, more than a little amazed by how naturally you slot into the heart of something that means so much to Alexia.

You’re the one who insists they need an Instagram account, “Not just for announcements,” you tell them, already typing. “Stories. Faces. The kids. Training days. People connect to people, not just logos.”

Alexia sits beside you, shoulder pressed to yours, nodding slowly. “She’s right,” she tells Miriam. “I trust her.”

You build the website over a few late nights at Alexia’s place, Alexia stretched out beside you on the sofa, half watching football, half watching you work. You explain everything as you go, donation links, transparency pages, long term sustainability. Alexia listens like she’s learning a whole new playbook.

Every now and then, she leans over and kisses the side of your head.

When the first samples are ready, you insist on making a moment of it.

You invite Miriam over for lunch, cooking something simple but thoughtful Alexia helping in her own way, mostly by stealing tastes and wrapping her arms around you from behind.

The doorbell rings, the box is bigger than you expected, you carry it to the living room together, Alexia kneeling beside you on the floor like she’s afraid to breathe too loudly, Miriam’s hands shake as she helps open it.

Inside are the first Eleven kits, scarves and clean, simple designs, your designs stitched and printed into something real, Miriam presses a hand to her mouth, Alexia goes completely still.

You pull one of the tiny kits out and hold it up, “Okay,” you say softly. “Don’t cry yet.”

Alexia doesn’t answer, she just reaches out, fingers brushing the fabric like it might disappear if she’s not careful, “This is… real,” she whispers.

Miriam nods, eyes shining, “It’s real. And it’s brilliant.”

Alexia looks up at you then really looks at you her eyes full, overwhelmed in that quiet way that means everything to her, “You did this,” she says, voice thick.

You shake your head gently, “No. We did.”

She stands suddenly and pulls you into her arms, hugging you so tightly you almost lose your balance, her face tucks into your neck, her breath shaky, “Thank you,” she murmurs. “For believing in this, in me."

You smile, arms wrapping around her just as firmly, “Always.”

☀️

It happens on an ordinary night, that’s the point, no wine, no candles, no dramatic build up. You’re curled up on Alexia’s sofa, her legs stretched out, your feet tucked under her thigh. The TV is on but neither of you are really watching some late night football highlights looping quietly in the background.

You’re scrolling on your phone, half watching, when Alexia speaks, “Mami said something to me today.”

You glance up. “That sounds dangerous.”

She huffs a quiet laugh, eyes still on the screen, “She said how happy I look"

You shift, turning your body more toward hers. “And?”

Alexia shrugs. It’s small, almost dismissive but you know her well enough now to hear what’s underneath, “Told her because I am” You wait, you’ve learned not to rush her silences, “She asked why.” Alexia swallows. “I didn’t talk about football.” That makes you look at her properly, she finally turns her head, meeting your eyes. There’s something unguarded there, thoughtful, steady. “I talked about you, coming home,” she says quietly. “About not feeling alone. About… planning things.”

Your chest tightens, but you keep your voice light, “Planning things like what?”

Alexia exhales through her nose, half smiling, “Normal things. Groceries. Work. The Foundation. You arguing with Alba in three languages.”

You laugh softly, “A skill.”

She nods, then, after a brief silence, too casual, too careful she says, “I’ve never let myself imagine anything past football." You don’t interrupt, her fingers absently trace the seam of the sofa cushion, like she’s grounding herself. “But sometimes now,” she continues, voice low, “I catch myself thinking… if I ever stop. About life after football.” She glances at you, then looks away again, like she’s embarrassed by her own honesty, she says, barely above a murmur, “You always there”

You don’t say anything, you just reach for her hand and lace your fingers together, squeezing once. Alexia exhales, like she’s been holding something in for a long time.

She leans her head against yours, voice quieter now, almost shy, “I’m not proposing,” she adds quickly.

You laugh under your breath, pressing a kiss to her temple, “I know.”

She relaxes fully into you then, “But,” she says, softer, steadier, “I wanted you to know. You my future”

You rest your head against hers, heart full in a way that feels calm instead of overwhelming, “I know,” you reply. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

She stays tucked against you for all of about thirty seconds before the silence starts to itch. You can feel it, the way her fingers begin to fidget with yours, twisting one around another, her thumb tracing idle circles like she’s trying to ground herself again.

Serious never lasts long with Alexia, not like this, you glance down just in time to catch the sideways look she gives you, “Okay,” she says, clearing her throat. “That was… very deep of me.”

You smile. “Incredibly.”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling too now, the tension easing from her shoulders. Her fingers keep playing with yours, bending them, lining them up like she’s measuring something. Then, far too casually, she asks, “Should I ever need it” she pauses, pretending to think very hard, “what ring size are you?”

You choke on your laugh, “Alexia,” you snort, trying to pull your hand back, but she tightens her grip, amused, “You literally just said you’re not proposing.”

“I said I’m not proposing now,” she corrects, smirk firmly in place, “This is… research.”

“Research,” you repeat dryly.

“Mm.” She nods seriously, still lining your fingers up with hers, “Very important. Planning. Like groceries.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “You are unbelievable.”

She grins, pleased with herself, “So?”

You squint at her, “You’re actually asking.”

“Hypothetically,” she says, deadpan. “In a very distant future where I am old and retired and extremely annoying.”

You squeeze her hand gently, eyes soft despite the teasing, “Shouldn’t you be more worried about whether I’d say yes?”

That makes her pause, she looks at you, really looks at you then her mouth tilts into something quieter, surer, “I already know that answer,” she says softly.

Your heart flips, but you refuse to let her win, you shrug, “Bold of you.”

She laughs, leaning in to kiss your cheek, lingering there for just a second longer than necessary, “So?” she nudges again. “Ring size.”

You sigh theatrically, “Fine. But if you pull out a tape measure, I’m leaving.”

She brightens immediately, “I knew I should’ve brought one.”

You laugh, curling into her side, and she wraps an arm around you, still playing with your fingers like she’s committing them to memory, “Just so I know,” she murmurs, teasing but gentle, “for the future.”

You rest your head against her shoulder, smiling to yourself, “Of course,” you say lightly. “For research, are you only going to propose when you're retired.. I'm not sure I'd say yes to 45 no knees left Alexia you know?"

She laughs straight away, shaking her head, still playing with your fingers like it’s second nature now, “Hey,” she says, offended but smiling. “45, no knees Alexia is very sexy.”

You snort, “I’ll need convincing, if you can't even get down on one knee and back up again, it's not looking good for you"

She laughs again, but this time it softens when she looks at you properly, she squeezes your hand. “You cruel,” she says, amused. “Very cruel.”

“I’m honest,” you reply, smiling. “Same thing.”

She tilts her head, studying you, thumb rubbing over your knuckle, “So what,” she asks gently, “you have time for me?” You hesitate, just a second and she notices immediately, “Ohhh,” she says, lips curving, “You have plan.”

You groan, dropping your head back against the sofa,“It’s not, okay, it’s not written down or anything,” you admit. “But yeah. I kind of… always had one.”

She shifts so she’s facing you fully now, elbow on the back of the sofa, eyes soft but curious, “Tell me,” she says.

You shrug, suddenly shy, “I always thought after meeting you… engaged by this age. Married by that one. First kid around here.” You gesture vaguely.

Alexia listens quietly, really listening, “You think,” she says slowly, choosing her words, “that I will just… follow?”

You wince a little, “Well when you put it like that"

She lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head, “You are funny,” she murmurs. “But also… very you.” She moves closer, knee touching yours, forehead resting against your temple, “I don’t live like this,” she says gently. “With dates. Plans when things must happen.” She exhales. “Football make you stop planning too much from season to season. You learn… anything can change.”

You nod, you know that.

“But,” she adds, lifting her head to look at you, eyes steady, sincere, “that doesn’t mean I don’t think about same things.”

Your chest tightens.

“Just not with calendar,” she finishes.

You swallow, “So what if our timelines don’t match?”

Alexia smiles, soft and sure, “Then we make new one,” she says. “Together. When it feel right. Not when it feel planned.” She bumps her nose against yours, breaking the heaviness, “And don’t worry,” she adds, smirking. “I don’t wait until I am completely broken.”

You laugh, tension finally easing as you curl into her side, “Good,” you murmur. “Because I’d like knees that work in the wedding photos.”

She grins, arm tightening around you, “Deal,” she says.

She stays quiet for a moment, still holding your hand, her thumb tracing that same slow circle like she’s grounding herself again. Then she looks down at your fingers, not quite at you.

“You say… kids?” she repeats softly.

The word hangs there, heavier than the jokes before it, she swallows, jaw tightening just a little, and you can see her steadying herself before she continues.

“Since we talk about this stuff,” she says, broken but careful, “maybe… we talk about all, no?”

You shift, turning fully toward her now. You don’t rush her, you just nod, letting her set the pace.

She exhales slowly, “I think about it,” she says quietly. “Sometimes. Kids. Family.” She glances up at you, searching your face. “But also… I’m scared.”

“Of what?” you ask gently.

She shrugs, a small, helpless motion, “Of timing,” she says. “Of body. Of football.” A faint huff of a laugh. “Of not being enough. Or being too tired. Or always gone.”

Your chest aches at the honesty in her voice.

“I don’t know how that fit with career,” she continues. “I don’t know when. Or how. Or if I wait too long and then…” She trails off, frustration flickering across her face.

You squeeze her hand.

“I had picture in my head once,” she admits, quieter now. “Not dates like you,” she adds with a tiny smile, “but… feeling. Home. Noise. Someone calling me mama.”

Your breath catches.

She looks embarrassed suddenly, laughs softly and shakes her head, “See? I talk too much.”

You smile, eyes warm, “No. You’re not”

She studies you for a second, vulnerable and open in a way she rarely allows, “I don’t know answers,” she says honestly. “But if I ever do this… kids… I can’t imagine doing it with anyone but you”

She squeezes your fingers again, this time more sure.

“So,” she finishes softly, “I want talk about it. With you. Even if we don’t decide anything.”

You lean in, forehead touching hers, “I’m glad,” you whisper. “Me too."

She exhales, relief washing through her features, and leans into you, resting her head against your shoulder, “Okay,” she murmurs. “Then we talk. Slowly, make sure on the same page.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to her hair, “Slowly,” you agree.

She stays tucked into you for a bit, quiet again, then she lifts her head like she’s made a decision, “Okay,” she says softly. “We really do this, yeah?”

You smile. “We really do.”

She shifts so she’s sitting cross-legged facing you, serious now but still gentle, her knee knocking into yours, “So,” she starts, then laughs nervously but you can see the excitement behind it, “Who… carry?”

You blink. “Straight in.”

She shrugs. “If we talk, we talk.”

You think for a second. “I’ve thought about it. I think I’d like to. At least once to have that experience” You glance at her. “But I also know what your body means to your career.”

She nods immediately, “Yes, my body is… my work. Pregnancy is not small thing.”

You nod. “Which is why I’d never expect you to.”

“But,” she adds quickly, “I don’t say no forever.” She meets your eyes. “Maybe after football. Or if I feel ready. I don’t want you think I wouldn’t and you have to, it big thing.”

Your chest warms, “That means a lot.”

She relaxes a little and reaches for your hand again, “And eggs,” she continues, slower. “You think about this?”

“Yeah,” you admit. “I wondered… would you want to use yours? Mine? Both?”

She chews her lip, thinking, “I like idea of both,” she says quietly. “Feels… equal.” She smiles a little. “One from you, one from me.”

You laugh softly. “I like that too.”

She tilts her head, “And donor,” she adds. “Same one? Or different?”

You shrug lightly. “Same might feel… simpler. Like they’re really siblings if we don't use just one persons eggs.”

She nods, relief flickering across her face, “Yes. I think same.”

There’s a pause, then she asks the big one, almost shy, “How many?”

You grin. “You’re not easing into this at all.”

She smiles back. “No time. I am old footballer, remember?”

You laugh, then answer honestly, “I always thought two. Maybe three if life’s kind.”

Her eyes widen slightly, “Three?” she repeats, half amused, half stunned.

“You asked,” you tease.

She laughs, shaking her head, then goes thoughtful again, “I think… two,” she says. “One feels lonely. Three feels… chaos.” She smiles softly. “Two feels right.”

You nod. “Two feels right.”

She exhales, like she’s been holding her breath the whole conversation, then leans forward, resting her forehead against yours, “This is scary,” she admits quietly.

“It is,” you agree.

“But,” she adds, voice warm, certain, “it feel good to talk with you.”

You smile, brushing your thumb across her cheek, “Yeah,” you whisper, “It really does. She kisses you then, not rushed, not heated just slow and grounding, like sealing the conversation rather than igniting something else.

☀️

Morning comes in slowly, light slipping through the curtains, the room quiet in that way it only ever is when neither of you has somewhere urgent to be.

You’re half awake, half asleep, curled into Alexia’s chest, her arm heavy and warm around you. She’s already awake, you can tell because she’s doing that absent thing she always does fingers gently combing through your hair, over and over, like it calms her.

You hum softly, “I had a dream last night.”

Her fingers don’t stop, “Mmm,” she murmurs. “Tell me.”

You smile against her skin, eyes still closed, “I was at one of your games,” you start, “And I had these really nice rings on my fingers. So I guess… we’d gotten married.”

She lets out a quiet breath, almost a laugh, but she stays silent, letting you talk, “And there was this little girl sitting next to me,” you continue, voice warm, “Maybe two. Full Barcelona kit. ‘Mami 11’ on the back.”

She can hear yourself smiling now.

“She was properly shouting for you,” you add, “Like no shame, no voice left, fully committed.” You giggle, “She got so excited when you scored.”

Alexia’s chest rises with a slow breath beneath you.

“And your mami,” you go on, amused, “was giving her so many sweets. I remember thinking, this kid is never going to sleep tonight.”

Her fingers curl slightly in your hair.

“Then suddenly it was after the game,” you say, “You came over to the stands to see us. She was so excited to tell you how loud she was shouting.” Your voice softens. “You picked her up and just… loved on her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that happy in real life.”

There’s a quiet beat.

“Then you kissed me,” you say softly, “and you put your hand on my stomach.” You swallow, “And that’s when I realised… I was pregnant.”

Alexia’s hand stills for just a second.

“And the little girl,” you continue, smiling again, “she said, ‘I can’t wait for sister to come, mami.’ And then your mami piped up from behind us saying she’d been telling Alba yesterday she wanted a brother next.”

You laugh quietly.

“And you said, ‘Maybe three wouldn’t be a bad idea,’” you finish, “And I joked you’d do anything for that little girl.”

You fall silent then, the room heavy but gentle.

“I didn’t want to wake up,” you admit quietly. “Not gonna lie.”

Alexia leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, slow and lingering. Her hand slides from your hair to rest flat on your stomach, warm and sure.

“One day, muppet,” she says softly. “You wake up and it be true.”

Your throat tightens and you curl closer into her, breathing her in, and she holds you a little tighter, like she’s already protecting something that doesn’t exist yet but feels real all the same.

She’s quiet for a moment, still holding you, then she exhales like she’s finally saying something she’s been turning over in her head all night.

“Maybe I no wait until I retire,” she says softly. “I want that with you. My babies see me play… no just hear stories.” Her thumb brushes gently over your arm. “I like that idea.”

She leans down and kisses your forehead, tender, lingering.

“I just no like idea,” she adds quietly, “of you and the kids in England… and I here.”

That makes you lift your head straight away, “Why would we be in England?” you ask, brows furrowing as you push yourself up on her chest to look at her properly. “Alexia, if I’m marrying you and having your kids, I’ll be living in Barcelona.” Her eyes widen slightly, “I am not doing what we’re doing now,” you continue, voice firm but not angry. “Yesterday when you said about being gone, I thought you meant away days. I didn’t” you shake your head softly, “I didn’t for one second think you meant because you thought we’d still be doing half and half.”

She stares at you, processing, then lets out a breath that sounds dangerously close to relief, “You… move?” she asks quietly. “Here?”

“Yes,” you say immediately. “Here. With you.”

Her hand comes up to your face, like she needs to make sure you’re real, “You would leave,” she says slowly, “your work, your life… for this?”

“For us,” you correct gently. “For our family. Barcelona would be our home.”

Her eyes shine, emotions fighting for space on her face, “I didn’t want ask,” she admits. “I was scared you think I am… asking too much.”

You lean down, pressing your forehead to hers, “You’re not,” you say softly. “You’re asking for a life together.”

She swallows, then smiles, small at first, then bigger, “So,” she murmurs, brushing her nose against yours, “my babies wake up here. Walk to school here. Come to stadium here.”

“Yes,” you whisper. “All of it.”

She pulls you into her chest, arms tight, protective, grounding, “Okay,” she breathes, voice thick. “Then I really like this plan.”

You smile into her skin, “So do I.”

[ellieputellas]

2 hands | a. putellas

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ smau wherein Alexia accidentally uses her main account to like and comment on Model!Reader's post | tags: fluff, model!reader, angst later on

part one ୨ৎ part two | masterlist | please do not repost!

part two ➶♡ a/n: hey guys this is just a fun smau as a writing practice/exercise (and canva practice) so pls be nice! i’ve been away for a while so i rlly need to slowly get back into writing so this au might be a bit rough round the edges but yeah just a fun cutesy fic. (more drama in following parts.) anw, hope u guys still liked it (and dont leave me mean comments aaah i’m fragile) ❤️❤️ anyway, part 2 will be linked here once i post it in a couple days (lmk if you guys want to get tagged!)

[theitaliansalad]

"Let me tell you, I cannot believe they're keeping me here while they revise a perfectly legit goal while I could already be home, in my huge bed, sleeping, with Rosalia playing in the background".

[wosospacegirl]

I need her to step on me with those 👢 ASAP

yes plS PLS PLS!!! 😩😩😩😩

[wosospacegirl]

Oh my sweetheart 😩 she's really using lesbianism to make us help the kids... that's so beautiful

[didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback]

alexia looks so elegant here: our winter queen 🧥

source: @victor_nahe on twitter

[purplereina11]

Part 18

You go to your cousins wedding in Spain, and you catch the eye of the Alexia Putellas, she unintentionally becomes your plus one

Wordcount: 6.6k

Other Parts

Alexia and muppet get a bit freaky so warning

Alexia's Eleven foundation was buzzing with activity, children weaving between cones, volunteers corralling them into drills, laughter echoing off every wall, Alexia wasn’t there, she had training tonight, and yet you came anyway.

That alone had earned you several raised brows and one suspicious squint from Miriam when you first arrived, but now she looked impressed.

You stood with Miriam and Eli along the sidelines, Eli wrapped in one of her cardigans despite the warmth, Miriam with a clipboard tucked under her arm as she gestured around the pitch.

“This is group three,” she explained, nodding toward the kids practicing passing patterns. “Most of them are here through the school outreach program”

“And how many kids does that cover?” you cut in gently, genuinely curious.

Miriam blinked, then smiled. “About eighty five weekly.”

You hummed, absorbing it. “And do you track progress? Like emotional or academic improvements?”

Miriam’s eyebrows shot up, “Okay,” she said, eyes narrowing playfully, “you’re asking real questions.”

“I want to understand,” you replied simply.

Eli patted your arm approvingly. “Muy bien,” she said warmly. “Muy bien, Y/N.”

You smiled down at her, responding quietly with the few Catalan words you’d practiced, “És important.”

Eli’s face lit up, pride and affection washing over her, Miriam actually paused mid sentence, staring at you, “Did… did you just say that in Catalan?”

“A little,” you admitted, shy. “I’m still learning.”

Miriam let out a breathy laugh, “Alexia doesn’t know about that, does she?”

You shook your head, “No. I wanted Eli to be able to talk to me and vice versa”

Eli reached for your hand then, squeezing it tight, gratitude written all over her expression, she understood more English than you realised, she just couldn't speak it necessarily or confidently, Miriam’s smile softened. “You’re good, you know that?”

You shrugged, embarrassed, “I just want to be part of this. Properly. Not… standing next to it.”

“That’s exactly why Ale talks about you the way she does,” Miriam said. “She thinks you’re in this for real. This proves it.” Your chest warmed painfully, she continued, tapping her clipboard. “Most people Alexia has dated, they show up only when she’s here. Smile for cameras. Then vanish.” She gestured to you, “You’re here when she isn’t.”

You didn’t know what to say, throat suddenly tight, so you watched the kids again, focusing on their laughter, their energy.

Eli leaned closer, whispering in Spanish, “Alexia tiene mucha suerte.”

You looked at her gently. “I’m lucky too.”

Miriam nudged your elbow, clearing her throat, “Come on. Let me show you the academic wing. That’s where we really need support. And you’ll love the art room, Ale says you’re creative, so,”

Your cheeks warmed. “She talks about me?”

Miriam snorted. “Constantly. Annoyingly. Let’s go.” you followed them deeper into Alexia’s world, the one she built from the ground up and you realised something, you weren’t just supporting her dream, you were slowly becoming part of the foundation that held it up.

Miriam led you through a side door into the inner corridor, her clipboard tucked against her ribs, her stride brisk but relaxed the kind of walk someone only had when they belonged somewhere completely.

You followed at her shoulder, Eli shuffling a little behind you both with a fond smile like she was watching two puzzle pieces click together.

“This wing is mostly academics,” Miriam said, pushing open a classroom door with her hip. “Homework support, literacy, maths tutoring, a lot of kids fall behind because of home conditions. We try to give them stability.”

You stepped inside, eyes widening, colourful posters on the walls, shelves of books, some worn, some new, tables arranged in little clusters and art pinned everywhere, messy but full of joy.

“Do you rotate volunteers,” you asked, moving slowly between the desks, “or are they consistent?”

“Consistent,” Miriam said. “Trust is everything here. New faces every week just makes the kids shut down.”

You nodded, impressed. “Makes sense.”

She watched you with a small, thoughtful smile. Like she was realising in real time that your questions weren’t for show they were rooted in genuine care.

“And who designs the curriculum?” you asked next. “You? Teachers?”

“Both,” she said, tapping her clipboard. “We partner with a few schools. Ale is big on proper structure, not just football and hope for the best.”

You grinned. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

Miriam chuckled. “She thinks she hides it, but she talks about this like it’s her second family. Sometimes her first family, depending on the week.”

You ran your fingers lightly over a stack of colouring pages. “She should be proud. This is incredible.”

Miriam’s eyes softened. “She is, but it hits differently when someone she cares about sees it.”

You swallowed at that, glancing down at the crayons scattered on a table. “What about funding?” you asked quietly. “Is it steady? Or stressful?”

Miriam actually laughed a short, surprised sound, “You’re the first person who’s ever asked that.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“Everyone assumes because Ale plays football, there’s a magic money tree. Truth is, she covers a lot herself. Too much. We’re trying to shift that.”

You frowned. “There’s no shame in needing support. How can I help?”

Miriam stared at you for a moment, long enough that you wondered if you’d overstepped. Then she shook her head in disbelief, smiling. “You two really are the same kind of person,” she muttered.

“What do you mean?” you asked, following her as she left the room.

“She never asks for help either,” Miriam said simply. “Even when she needs it.”

You tucked your hands into your pockets, “Maybe that’s why we work.”

Miriam held the door open for you, leading you into a small art room filled with paint pots and paper.

“Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe you’re just good for each other.” You looked around the room messy, bright, alive, a bit like Alexia herself. Miriam leaned against the counter, arms folded, “You know,” she said casually, “I didn’t expect to like you this much.”

You raised a brow, amused. “Oh?”

“Don’t take it the wrong way,” she added quickly. “I’m protective of her. Everyone knows that.”

“I know,” you said softly.

“But watching you today” Miriam tilted her head. “You’re not here for clout. Or photos. Or to make yourself look good. You’re here because she loves this place.”

You felt your cheeks warm. “And I love her.”

Miriam’s smile grew slow and real, “Yeah. That’s obvious.”

From the doorway, Eli nodded enthusiastically, saying something in Catalan you couldn’t fully catch but her warm tone didn’t need translating.

Miriam pushed off the counter. “Come on,” she said. “You still haven’t seen the meeting rooms.”

As she guided you deeper into the foundation’s corridors, you felt an unfamiliar but comforting thing settle in your chest acceptance from her best friend you weren’t just visiting Alexia’s life anymore, you were becoming part of it.

Miriam ended the tour in one of the upstairs meeting rooms quieter, sun pouring in through the long windows, a perfect vantage point over the pitches below. Kids were leaving in waves, volunteers gathering equipment, the last bursts of laughter drifting upward like echoes of the life Alexia had poured into this place.

You leaned against the railing, hands curled around the metal bar, still absorbing everything you’d seen. Miriam stood beside you, arms folded, her posture relaxed now the guardedness she’d had at the beginning of the evening almost entirely gone.

“You know,” she said with a small smile, “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually be interested in all this. I thought maybe you were coming because Ale asked you to.”

You shook your head. “She didn’t. She doesn't know I'm here actually.”

“That’s why it means something,” Miriam admitted. “You came for you. And for her, I guess.”

You glanced at her, a soft laugh escaping. “Yeah. Mostly for her. But I wanted to understand it, too.”

Miriam nodded, quiet for a moment, her eyes drifted out toward the pitch again, expression thoughtful. “You’re good for her,” she said finally. “Different. But in the right way.” You didn’t answer not because you didn’t want to, but because she wasn’t finished. “She’s… been through things,” Miriam said carefully, shifting her weight a little. “Especially when it comes to relationships.”

You stayed still, giving her space, Miriam hesitated, just for a second before continuing.

“I’m not going to give you a whole dramatic backstory,” she said, waving a hand lightly. “because it's not my story but Ale and Olga were together through a tough time for Alexia and personally I feel there relationship went on longer than it should have” You stayed quiet, gently steadying your breath, “The problem was…” Miriam looked for the right phrasing, “…in my opinion... it was a rebound that was extended by Alexia's injury”

“Wow,” you murmured.

“Their careers pulled them apart. Their personalities too. And… there was tension. A lot of tension. Years of it.”

You smiled faintly. “Sounds familiar.” You swallowed gently. “And the breakup?”

Miriam winced. “Messy. Slow. The kind where it feels over for a long time before anyone admits it. When it finally happened… everyone was relieved.”

You let that sit.

Miriam glanced sideways at you. “I’m telling you this so you understand… Alexia isn’t someone who jumps from person to person. She isn’t someone who moves on quickly. You being here like this? It means something.”

Your fingers tightened lightly on the railing, “I know,” you said quietly. “I feel it too.”

Miriam’s smile was soft and almost knowing, “She’s different with you.”

You raised a brow. “Different how?”

Miriam shrugged. “Happier. Softer. Annoyingly clingy.”

You laughed, truly this time. “Oh yeah, I get the clingy part.”

“She smiles more since you came around,” Miriam added. “Sleeps a little more. Laughs a lot more.” You blinked, touched, something warm bloomed in your chest, “And she trusts you,” Miriam said, voice gentler now. “That’s not easy for her. Not anymore.”

You exhaled slowly, letting that settle into your bones, the weight of what you’d become to her, what she was letting herself feel for you.

There was something precious in that, “Thank you for telling me,” you murmured.

Miriam nodded once, kindly. “Just… don’t break her. She pretends she’s steel, but she’s glass in there too. Always has been.”

You looked out at the pitch, then back at her, steady and certain, “I won’t,” you said. “I promise. Not intentionally at least”

Miriam studied you for a moment longer and then nodded, satisfied, “You want to grab a drink before we head out?” she asked lightly.

“Yeah,” you said with a small smile. “I’d like that.” And just like that the two of you walked toward the cafeteria, a new sort of understanding settling comfortably between you.

☀️ You drop your bag quietly by the door, expecting silence but the moment the door shuts behind you, you hear the low hum of the TV, she’s home, before you thought she would be.

You slow your steps, peering over the back of the sofa and there she is, sprawled out, hair damp from a quick shower after training, wearing one of your hoodies she stole last time she was in London, she looks up the second she senses you. Her whole face softens.

You don’t speak, you just lean down, cradle her cheek, and kiss her soft, warm, lingering for just a second. She hums at the contact, then her hand shoots up and hooks around your waist, tugging you down onto her chest with a low, delighted growl.

You fall onto her with a giggle, “Alexia”

She traps you without mercy, her arms loop around you, squeezing you flush to her body, her cheek nuzzling your temple like she’d been waiting all day to do exactly this.

“Where you been?” she murmurs, voice still a little raspy from training.

“Out.”

She leans back just enough to look at you properly eyes narrowed, mouth tugging into a smirk, amused like she can already tell you’re up to something. “Out?” Alexia repeats, eyebrow raised. “Qué misteriosa.”

You shrug, fighting a smile, enjoying how her fingers absent mindedly trace circles under your shirt. “Mhm. Out.”

She hums like she’s pretending to play along, but the corner of her mouth curls because she knows you’re being evasive on purpose, “Uh-huh,” she teases. “Should I be worried?”

You grin, shifting to straddle her hips slightly, her hands immediately coming to rest there like it’s second nature, “No,” you say, leaning down to kiss the smirk right off her mouth. “You should be impressed.”

She laughs softly into the kiss, hands tightening at your waist, “Oh, cariño,” she murmurs, lips brushing yours, “I’m always impressed.”

Her words settle warm and heavy between you, the kind of warmth that curls low in your stomach. Alexia’s hands slide up your sides, fingers slipping beneath your shirt you relax over her, letting your weight sink into her body. She loves it her arms wrap around you even tighter, her nose brushing along your jaw as she exhales a soft, tired breath.

“Long day?” you murmur.

She nods without lifting her head. “Mm. Better now.”

That little confession hits you in the chest. You kiss the top of her head, slow and lingering, your fingers playing with the ends of her damp hair.

Alexia shifts slightly, pulling back just enough to tilt her chin up and look at you properly, eyes soft in a way she rarely lets anyone see. “But… seriously.” Her thumb strokes your hip lazily. “Where were you?”

You bite your bottom lip, trying and failing not to smile, “I went to your foundation,” you say lightly.

Her brows lift, surprise flickering across her face before something warmer replaces it. “You went… without me?” You nod and she holds your gaze, and you watch her expression melt from surprise to something gentler, something that almost looks like awe. “Muppet…” she breathes, sitting up just a bit, enough to press her forehead to yours. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” you whisper, fingers tracing her cheek, “I wanted to do something that’s important to you, without you watching, without you feeling like you had to be there.”

Her eyes flutter shut, her jaw working like she’s trying to swallow emotion she didn’t expect. Her thumb drifts across your lower back, slow, tender. “You met the kids?” she asks quietly.

“Some of them. One drew me a picture.” You grin. “I’m keeping it.”

Alexia laughs under her breath, the sound small and genuine. She cups your face gently, her thumb stroking your cheekbone, “You do things to me,” she whispers.

“Good things, I hope.”

“The best things.” She leans up, kisses you, soft, deep, lingering until you feel her whole body relax beneath yours, when she pulls back, she gives you a playful look, one brow raised, “So,” she says, voice low and teasing, “you sneak around, charm children, volunteer yourself at my Foundation, and then sneak back home to kiss me?”

You shrug innocently. “That about sums it up.”

Her hands slide down to grip your thighs, she smirks. “Come here.” She rolls you both, slow and effortless, until she’s above you on the sofa, hair falling forward, eyes hungry in a way that tightens every muscle in your body. “You drive me crazy,” she murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth, “But I love it.”

Alexia stays above you, braced on her forearms, her face so close you can feel every soft breath against your lips. Her eyes sweep your features slowly, deliberately, like she’s memorising you all over again.

“You went to the Foundation…” she murmurs, almost to herself, her thumb tracing the curve of your waist where your shirt has ridden up. “And you didn’t tell me. You just… did it.”

You nod, cheeks warm, “It felt right.”

Her expression softens into something impossibly tender something she only ever shows you in moments like this, moments where she forgets to protect herself, “That means more to me than you know,” she whispers.

You smile up at her, fingers brushing along her jawline, “I can guess.”

Alexia leans down and kisses you again slower this time, deep enough that her whole body melts into yours. She shifts, lowering herself so her weight settles comfortably onto you, her thigh slipping between yours in a way that steals a quiet breath from your chest.

She hears it, of course she does and she smirks against your mouth.

“Mm?” she teases. “Something wrong, Muppet?”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

She chuckles, low and smug, kissing just beneath your ear, “Maybe.”

You hook a finger under her chin, guiding her back to face you, “I wanted to surprise you,” you say softly.

“You did.” She kisses you once, light. Then again, lingering. “God, you did.”

Her hands slide beneath your shirt again, fingertips warm against your skin, but instead of rushing anything, she settles her head on your chest, right over your heartbeat, her arms snug around your waist.

It’s rare, her choosing stillness over intimacy, but she does it now, like she needs this more than anything. You stroke her hair, feeling her sink into you inch by inch.

“How was training?” you ask after a moment.

She hums, voice muffled against your skin. “Tired. They pushed us hard.” She presses a small kiss to your sternum. "Just wanted to come home to you.” Your hand freezes for a second at how casually she said it how freely. She feels the change in your body and lifts her head just enough to meet your eyes. “What?” she asks softly.

You shake your head, smiling. “Nothing. Just… you saying things like that.”

She studies you for a moment before she melts again, resting her cheek against your chest, “I mean them.” You exhale, thumb tracing the back of her neck, after a quiet beat, she speaks again sleepy, vulnerable, completely unguarded, “When you’re not here, I miss you." her fingers curl into your shirt, “More than I want to admit.”

Your chest tightens, but in the best way, “I miss you too,” you whisper.

Alexia presses another kiss to your chest, slow and soft, like a promise, then her voice drops even lower, "Sex?"

You smile, stroking her hair, “Fine”

Her head lifts from your chest slowly, eyes darkened but soft, the kind of look that makes your breath catch without her even touching you yet.

She studies you for a moment, then she moves, her hands slide beneath your shirt again, but this time there’s purpose in the way her fingers drag up your sides. She pushes the fabric higher, pausing only long enough to admire you weren't wearing a bra.

Alexia sits up on her knees, pulling your shirt with her. The soft material grazes your skin as she lifts it, slow, deliberate, like she’s unwrapping something precious. You raise your arms, letting her peel it over your head.

She tosses it aside without looking, eyes fixed entirely on you, “Guapa…” she whispers, almost breathless.

Her hands skim down your torso, trailing warmth with every touch. She leans in, lips brushing the line of your collarbone, then lower, slow kisses that make your stomach tighten.

Her fingers toy with the button of your jeans next, not rushing not teasing either, just taking her time, enjoying you. She glances up through her lashes, “Okay?” she murmurs.

You nod softly, already arching into her touch, her smile is small, warm, full of something that makes your chest ache. Then she undoes the button, slides the zipper down, her hands slip beneath the waistband, tugging gently an invitation for you to lift your hips.

You do.

She pulls your jeans down your legs, her palms gliding with them, leaving a trail of sparks everywhere she touches. When she reaches your ankles, she pauses just long enough to tug them fully off before crawling back up your body, slow, controlled, her hands tracing your thighs like she’s savouring every inch.

Alexia hovers over you again, lips brushing yours but not kissing not yet, she murmurs, her voice low, intimate. “You come home like this… and expect me not to touch you?”

Her fingers slide along your hipbone, warm and sure, you breathe out a trembling laugh, “I was hoping you would.”

Alexia smirks, dipping her head to kiss just beneath your ear, “Oh, Muppet,” she whispers, settling her body over yours, “I always will.”

She kisses you then, deep, slow, her hands continuing their gentle exploration. Alexia’s mouth is still on yours when her hand slips along your thigh, the touch slow, intentional, making your breath catch. She pulls back just enough to see your reaction your parted lips, the way your body arches ever so slightly into her.

“Sensitive,” she whispers, the word almost a smile against your skin.

Her fingers trail higher, tracing the edge of your underwear, teasing without actually touching you where you’re already aching for her. She loves doing this feeling your anticipation, watching the way your chest rises faster, the way your eyes darken. You grip her forearm lightly, “baby…” you whisper.

That’s all it takes, she kisses you again, her tongue against yours stealing the sound you make when her hand finally dips beneath the fabric. Her touch is warm and sure, her body pressing into yours as she moves with a slow, deliberate rhythm that makes your head fall back against the sofa.

Her forehead rests against your cheek, her breath shaky with how much she loves having you like this, soft beneath her, trusting her, reacting to every movement. “Tan bonita…” she murmurs against your jaw, her voice tight with want. “You feel so good.”

Your fingers curl into the back of her hoodie, pulling her closer your whole body opening for her as she moves exactly how you need her to, her lips brushing yours every time your breath stutters.

She kisses your shoulder, your throat, anywhere she can reach without losing her rhythm, her voice low and tender and wrecked at the same time, “Look at me,” she whispers, you do, eyes meeting hers, flushed and needy and completely undone under her touch, her smile is small, hungry, reverent. “That’s it,” she breathes, kissing you again as the moment crests, warm and overwhelming, her body holding yours through every shiver and tremor, her hand steady, her whispers soft and Spanish against your ear.

When it finally settles, she stays there her hand still resting gently between your thighs, her breathing as unsteady as yours. She kisses the corner of your mouth, a slow drag of lips that makes your heart flip.

You lean down and press a few soft, lingering kisses to her lips, each one slower and more teasing than the last. Her arms wrap around you tighter with every press, her hair brushing your cheek, her warm body pressed flush against yours. You pull back just enough to rest your forehead against hers, smiling into her dark, gleaming eyes.

“I’m going upstairs to get my pyjamas on,” you murmur, your voice low and playful, though your body doesn’t want to leave her just yet.

Alexia’s eyes glint mischievously as she tilts her head, a small, amused smirk tugging at her lips, “You home,” she says, her broken English making it even more endearing. “You can be naked, I no mind.”

You burst into a quiet laugh, the sound filling the warm room. Her grin widens as she watches you shake your head, still chuckling, “You really think I’d do that just because you say so?” you tease, standing and giving her one last lingering kiss before heading for the stairs.

Her laughter follows you, soft and warm, echoing behind you as you disappear upstairs, already anticipating crawling back into her arms once your pyjamas are on.

☀️

You quietly climb back down the stairs, holding your pyjamas in your hands instead of putting them on, you hear the faint clatter in the kitchen, Alexia moving around, probably grabbing something from the fridge.

You place the pyjamas on the edge of the living room sofa, letting them sit there, before walking toward the kitchen. You lean casually on the doorway, elbows resting on the frame, just watching her.

“What you doing?” you ask softly, Alexia not turning around as she slides a container out of the fridge.

“You hungry? I was gonna start cooking dinner,” she says, her voice calm, domestic.

You hum nonchalantly, keeping your gaze fixed on her “Not that hungry, to be honest,” you reply.

Alexia pauses mid motion, turning to question you but then her eyes catch you. You’re standing there, completely bare, a slow grin spreading across your face as you hold the strap on, letting it rest casually in your hand.

Her breath hitches slightly, and a smirk creeps across her lips. “You… need to finish what you started,” you says voice low, teasing, the kind that sends a shiver straight down her spine.

You meet her smirk with your own mischievous grin, taking a slow step toward her, feeling the tension coil and hum between you two.

You press your body against hers, letting her feel the warmth and weight of you. Your hand slips under the edge of her hoodie, just grazing her skin, and your voice drops into a husky whisper, “Come on, baby,” you murmur, letting your lips brush against her neck. "Fuck me"

Alexia freezes for a moment, eyes dark and glittering with mischief, she smirks, her hand brushing yours teasingly, before taking control in that unmistakable way she knows you love.

You gasp softly as she guides you closer, the heat between you building until it’s almost unbearable. Every movement, every touch, is deliberate, electric, leaving nothing to chance.

She bends you gently over the edge of the kitchen counter, her gaze locked on yours. The air between you is thick with anticipation, your hearts hammering, breaths shallow, she leans close, “This what you wanted?” she murmurs, voice low and teasing, the smirk never leaving her face.

You nod, biting your lip, already trembling from the tension, letting the world narrow down to just the two of you in that warm, charged kitchen.

Her hands slide over you in that teasing, intimate way she knows drives you wild, and you meet her gaze again, eyes locking, wordless promises and daring glances exchanged, the moment hovering on the edge of what’s about to happen next.

You stay bent over the counter, feeling her presence behind you, close enough that the heat from her body presses against yours. Every small movement, every brush of her hands, sends shivers through you.

Alexia leans closer, whispering something against your ear that makes your stomach twist in anticipation. Her fingers trace teasing paths along your sides, her touch deliberate, claiming, and yet slow enough to drive you wild with impatience.

You arch back slightly, letting her know just how much you need her, and she smirks against your skin, clearly savouring the reaction she’s eliciting, “Such a naughty girl,” she murmurs, her voice low and teasing, pulling you closer.

You respond with a soft whimper, the sound encouraging her, drawing her hands and gaze in closer, her lips brush the shell of your ear, and you shiver, pressing back instinctively. Her eyes meet yours in the reflection of the kitchen surfaces, dark and playful, full of unspoken promises.

“You ready for me?” she teases, her tone husky, commanding yet playful.

You nod, biting your lip, heart hammering in your chest, caught completely in the deliciously intense game of tension and anticipation she’s creating.

“Muppet” she whispers her hands roam over your body, “Can we try something?” You look over your shoulder, “What?” “Can I put the strap in your ass?”

After considering Alexia’s question, you bite your lip, your heart racing faster. The thought of her taking control in this way sends a thrill through you. You've never tried something like this before, but with her, you're willing to trust her completely. You nod, your voice a bit shaky as you reply, "O-Okay, I... I'll try it." You feel your heart race as you nod, the thrill of vulnerability coursing through you. “Okay,” you say again, your voice barely above a whisper, but the determination in it is unmistakable. Alexia's eyes light up with excitement and desire, the spark igniting a fire in the room.

“Just relax,” she instructs gently, her voice a soothing balm against your mounting nerves. Her hands slide down your back, caressing softly, grounding you as she moves into position behind you. You can feel her breath against your skin, warm and teasing. 

Every nerve ending in your body tingles, heightened by anticipation. She picks up the strap, the weight of it heavy with promise, and you feel yourself growing slick with need. You can’t help but arch your back slightly, inviting her in closer, craving her touch.

“I’ll take it slow,” she assures you, her fingers tracing delicate patterns along your thighs. You feel the cool air of the kitchen contrasting with the heat radiating from your core. You feel the weight of her gaze on you, feel how she examines every inch of you with a lustful hunger that makes you shiver. “Just breathe,” she murmurs, her voice a soft melody amid the chaos of your racing heart. You try to focus on her words, to let them wash over you like a wave, calming your nerves, with her fingers still teasing your thighs, she leans in closer, her breath hot against your ear. “Remember, eleven if it’s too much.”

You nod again, swallowing hard as you sense her positioning herself, the anticipation building between you. The world outside seems to fade, leaving just the two of you suspended in this moment of intimacy and exploration.

Her fingers trace gently along your ass, and you can't help but gasp, feeling the weight of what's about to happen. The air thickens around you, charged, as you brace yourself against the counter, ready for her to guide you.

With gentle hands, she parts you, her touch deliberate as she prepares you with careful attention. You lower your head against the counter, overwhelmed by the building tension between you. Alexia positions herself with tender precision, and as she begins to ease forward, you draw a sharp breath, teeth pressing into your bottom lip.

Her hand traces a warm path up the curve of your spine, fingers splaying across your shoulder blades. "Push out as I go in," she instructs, her voice low and steady. You follow her guidance, but a sharp, burning sensation floods through you. Your muscles lock tight, fingernails digging half moons into your palms.

The kitchen light casts shadows across your bodies as she eases forward with excruciating patience, allowing your trembling form time to adjust to the foreign intrusion. "I'm going to move, baby, ok?" she whispers, her breath warm against your ear. You manage a tight nod, throat too constricted for words. When she withdraws and then presses forward again with deliberate slowness, a ragged sound escapes your lips, part pain, part something darker and more primal.

Her name escapes your lips in a broken whisper "Alexia" as her large hands grip your waist firmly, fingers pressing into the soft flesh there. "Go slow," you plead, voice trembling with a mixture of desire and apprehension. She responds with a deep, throaty hum a sound somewhere between satisfaction and concentration as she rocks against you with deliberate restraint. Her movements are measured and deliberate, each careful thrust causing your breath to catch. You hear the wet sound as she spits down onto where the silicone disappears into you, then the warm trickle of additional lubrication adding slickness that makes you shudder. The extra lubrication works its magic as your muscles gradually relax, surrendering to her rhythm. The burning sensation begins to transform, and suddenly a lightning flash of pleasure shoots up your spine, making your toes curl against the kitchen floor. It's gone almost as quickly as it came, but it leaves you gasping, wanting more. You surrender to the sensation, breasts pressed against the cool marble countertop, fingers splayed wide like pale starfish on the polished stone. Your flushed cheek finds relief against the surface as you chase that elusive spark of pleasure through the haze of discomfort.

"It good?" Alexia's voice comes husky and uncertain from behind you.

You wet your lips, tasting salt, and arch your spine in a slow, deliberate curve. For one breathtaking moment, pleasure flares like a struck match inside you, and a small sound escapes your throat. You nod, but your eyes remain squeezed shut.

"Y/N... remember eleven," she reminds you, her accent thickening with concern.

A hum vibrates through your chest as determination crystallises within you. This new terrain of sensation will not defeat you. You push yourself up on trembling arms, muscles taut beneath dewy skin, and widen your stance on the cool tile floor. The arch in your back deepens, offering yourself more completely. "Faster," you breathe, the word hanging in the air.

"Si?" Her question is tentative, careful.

"Si, mas rapida," you respond in her native tongue, ensuring no misunderstanding between you. The reward is immediate a primal growl of approval rumbles from deep in her chest. Her rhythm changes, each movement synchronised perfectly with the kitchen clock's mechanical heartbeat, its ticking a metronome to your mounting pleasure.

"You taking it so well, amor," she praises, voice rough with desire.

Your breathing fractures into ragged gasps as pleasure begins to eclipse everything else, your body learning this new language. "Keep going, it's starting to" The sentence dissolves into a moan that rises from somewhere deep and untamed within you.

Alexia's fingers dug into the soft flesh of your breasts, her thumb and index finger rolling each sensitive nipple between them as she established a rhythm behind you. "It feel good?" she panted, her accent thickening with each thrust.

The initial discomfort had transformed into waves of pleasure that radiated through your core. Your moans echoed against the kitchen tiles as she increased her pace, the wet sounds of your connection filling the space between your gasps. When her palm connected with the curve of your ass in a sharp spank, you squealed, the sting blooming into heat that only intensified everything. "Alexia," you moaned, your voice breaking. "Fuck, baby."

Your trembling hand reached behind you, finding her hip slick with sweat, trying to gentle her movements, slow her increasingly frantic pace. Her breathing had grown ragged, her movements more erratic as she lost herself in your responses She was lost in your pleasure, her breathing ragged and uneven against your shoulder blade. 

You could feel her excitement building in the tension of her muscles, the force of her thrusts but the faster and harder she went, the pleasure began to recede like a tide, replaced by a burning stretch that made your vision blur. You gripped the cold edge of the counter, knuckles white, silently willing the pleasure to return, but the overwhelming sensation became too much to bear "Alexia. Alexia. Eleven, baby, eleven."

She withdrew immediately, the sudden emptiness making you whimper. With surprising tenderness, she turned you to face her, your boneless body collapsing against her solid frame. Her strong arms encircled you, lips pressing soft, apologetic kisses along the curve where your neck met your shoulder. "Put your arms and legs around me," she murmured against your flushed skin. You complied, wrapping your arms around her neck as she hoisted you up, her hands supporting the underside of your thighs, your bodies pressed chest to chest as she began to carry you from the kitchen.

She starts walking toward the bathroom, your body warm against hers, her hoodie brushing your bare skin. She doesn’t put you down even when she nudges the door open with her hip. The light flicks on, soft and golden.

She lowers you gently onto your feet but doesn’t let go of your hand not even for a second. With her free hand, she turns on the taps, adjusting the water temperature like she’s done it a hundred times. Bubbles begin to bloom under the running water, filling the room with a faint, soothing scent.

You watch her in the mirror, still in her hoodie and training shorts, filling a bubble bath for you while holding your hand like she’s afraid to let it go.

“What are you doing?” you ask softly.

She glances back at you, her lips lifting into a small, tender smile, “Taking care of you.” She squeezes your hand, thumb rubbing gently over your skin when the tub is full and steaming, she turns off the water and steps closer, her hands sliding along your arms as she guides you toward the edge. “Despacio,” she murmurs, helping you step one foot, then the other, into the warm bath, her touch never leaves your skin.

You sink down slowly, the heat enveloping you, bubbles brushing against your chest. Alexia keeps hold of your hand the entire time, moving with you, only letting go once you’re settled only so she can cup your cheek and brush her thumb across your lips.

“There,” she whispers, eyes soft. “Relax.”

Alexia stays crouched beside the tub, her hoodie sleeves pushed up to her elbows, one hand resting lightly on the rim as if she’s still making sure you’re okay. The bathroom is warm, quiet except for the gentle popping of bubbles and the soft sound of your breathing settling.

Her eyes flick over you, checking, searching and something shifts in her expression, “Lo siento…” she murmurs, voice low.

You sit up a little, brows drawing together. “Alexia”

“No.” She shakes her head, looking down, thumb rubbing anxiously over her fingers. “I need say it. I pushed too far. You had to use safe word.” Her jaw tightens, guilt written all over her face. “I never want you feel… not safe. Not… good.”

Your heart squeezes, because this isn’t the Alexia the world knows untouchable, perfectly composed, invincible. This is Alexia who loves you, who fears hurting you more than anything. You sink deeper into the warm bath, bubbles rising around your chest, and shake your head gently. “Baby,” you say softly, voice warm, steady. “You don’t.” Her eyes lift to yours uncertain, searching for something. “You don’t need to apologise,” you repeat.

She opens her mouth to argue, stubborn even now. “But you said—”

“I know what I said,” you interrupt gently. “And it wasn’t because of you. You didn’t do anything wrong. I needed a moment, that’s all and you listened. You stopped immediately. That’s what matters.”

Alexia swallows hard, her shoulders loosening just a little, “But still…” she starts again, quieter now. “It scares me. I never want be person who”

You reach out a wet hand toward her she takes it instantly, like instinct, “Alexia,” you whisper, squeezing her fingers, her eyes fixed on yours with that fragile vulnerability she only ever shows behind closed doors. “Baby,” you say again, softer. “You don’t need to apologise. Not when you did everything right. I trust you,” you tell her. “Completely.”

Her breath leaves her in a shaky exhale, and she lifts your hand to her lips, kissing your knuckles like she needs the grounding. “I love you,” she whispers.

You smile slowly, settling even deeper into the warm embrace of the bath. “I know,” you murmur, eyes softening. “I love you too.”

[wosospacegirl]

Imagine asthmatic!reader asking Alexia jokingly to choke her next time they have sex and Alexia immediately is like “NO 😠”

Choking - Alexia Putellas

☆Summary: You have a few kinks ;)

☆Word Count: 1.5k

☆Warnings: suggestive • mentions of choking

☆A/n: this is a little ficlet to this fic

"Hey, Ale," you said, your voice dripping with honey, so saccharine, so unusual from your usual tone. That's probably why Alexia lifted just one eyebrow as soon as you made yourself at home in her lap. The brunette clearly didn't want to be a part of what you were planning, didn't want to be involved in any of your schemes. 

"Mnm, hola?" Alexia murmured, unsure, placing her warm hands under your shirt, her thumb brushing your seventh rib. Her touch was calming, but something whispered in your ear that she was doing that to soothe herself, rather than you.

You started slowly, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, letting your lips linger there, skin to skin. Seconds later, you gave her another press to the forehead, it was soft and deliberate. All characteristics that weren't in your nature, but they were working.

Alexia's hands stilled on your ribs, her breathing evening out as you continued your assault, a kiss to the apple of her cheek, another peck to the corner of her mouth. Kiss after kiss until you could feel Alexia's soft mouth pressing back, imprinting the sticky sweetness of your gloss back in the hollow of your cupid's bow 

It didn't take too long for her face to be smeared with your cherry lip gloss, the sweetness transferring with each press of your lips. Her cheeks flushed pink beneath the shimmer, and slowly, her face broke into an unguarded smile.

The corners of her eyes crinkled, those little lines appearing that only showed up when she was truly happy, when she looked at you like you were her whole world. Truly the look of love.

"Vale, vale," Alexia laughed, taking both of your wrists in her hands and pushing you gently from her body, building some inches of distance between your torsos. "Qué quieres?" [okay, okay. What do you want?]

You pouted, putting all those years of children's theatre class to good use. "I want to kiss my girlfriend. Why? Can't I just do that?"

The captain rolled her eyes playfully; she was starting to get immune to your manipulative tendencies. "Of course you can, dramática, but-"

You smiled and tried to lean forward, puckered lips ready to kiss her all over again. But Alexia wasn't done, and she liked to be listened to.

She tugged your hands, bringing you back to where you were, a palm's distance between both of you. You hated the distance.

"I'm not done, bebé," she said, voice more stern than before.

Your bottom lip stuck out again, but it didn't seem to have the same effect as before.

"As I was saying," she continued. "You can kiss me, of course, but something about your body language says you want something more."

You dropped the pout, letting your true intentions show on your face - the slight smirk, the way your eyes darkened just a fraction.

"Body language? ugh... yes, of course I want something more! I want to have sex with you!" You said, intentionally rolling your hips against her lap for emphasis. "Isn't that obvious? I'm practically grinding on you!"

The crudeness of your words made Alexia flush intensively, her masseter muscle tensed before she forced herself to rebuild composure.

"There's something you aren't telling me," she said in a low voice, leaning forward to kiss your left cheek carefully and then your right. "So tell me."

She leaned back onto the sofa, eyes analyzing your every move. You squirmed under her watchful gaze and decided that you could never hide anything from Alexia, and so it spilled out fast and almost breathless.

"I want you to choke me," you said, your own cheeks turning crimson. But the smirk tugging at your face said you weren't really embarrassed by the confession, or well, request.

Alexia tilted her head. "Qué?"

You took a deep breath, just to give Alexia some extra seconds to prepare herself. "I want you to choke me."

Alexia was silent for a few seconds too many. She looked at you with her mouth open, breath slightly shallow, her eyes fell down to your throat. You wondered if she might need your inhaler.

"Ale?" You press your thumb gently into the curve where her shoulder and neck met. "Come on! Don't be a nun, I know you have some weird Catholic guilt going on, but–"

"No!" Alexia said suddenly.

You shifted on her lap, letting your hands fall free from her grasp, resting them on your own thighs.

"No what?"

"T-to your question!" She said, embarrassment tinting her voice.

You looked at her with your mouth hanging open, baffled. You didn't get a 'no' from Alexia very often. "Why!?"

"Because you have asthma!"

You let your head fall back dramatically.

"Oh come on, man!" you whined. If your feet were on the floor, you would stomp them. "What does that have to do with anything! I still have a throat you can squeeze-"

"Please don't use the word squeeze," she interrupted, a small shudder running through her body.

"And you, amor, have two perfectly good hands that can choke me!" You said, snatching her wrists and presenting her hands like some strong evidence in favour of your case. "I don't need functional bronchioles to do any of that, and neither do you!"

"Please don't use the word choke either," she said. And before you could give her more arguments, she took your face in her hands.

"Baby, you have asthma attacks that make you unable to breathe! I've seen it, you get all red, and you struggle and-and it's not something I want to see because of my own hands," she explained, her voice slightly shaking.

"But-"

She shut you up with her finger on your lips. "I'm still talking."

Your gaze dropped to your own lap, genuine disappointment replacing the playfulness.

"I don't think that's a very smart idea, sí?" She said softly. "Sometimes when we do some more... active stuff, you get flared up, right? Maybe we can leave the... choke, to the side."

"But I would really like to try," you said again, quieter now. "Please? I promise I'll behave and be good, and I'll make sure to tell you if something feels wrong."

"No," she said, firmer this time.

"But-"

This time, she didn't shut you up with her finger; it was her hands slapping your ass that did the trick. It was clear now. Game over for you. No choking.

"Testaruda," she said under her breath, placing her hand on your back and bringing you closer to her body. "Always wants things to go her way." [stubborn]

"You always make things go my way," you murmured into her neck. "That's your fault."

"I guess you are right," she said,her hand tenderly massaging the skin she had just swatted. "Niña tonta... wanting me to choke you."

"I had to at least try," you said, defeated but accepting.

"I praise you for your determination."

"Thank you," you said. "I praise you for your... values, I guess?"

"More like fear of having to show up in the ER in our underwear," Alexia joked.

You rolled your eyes. "That wouldn't be too bad, exhibitionism and everything."

Alexia's face turned into a frown. "Okay… wow. Did you just say exhibitionism?!! How many more kinks do you have that I'm not aware of?"

You shrugged, placing your head on her shoulder, kissing the skin there. "A few... I would tell you more if you weren't so boring."

"Hey, I'm not boring!" Alexia said in indignation.

"Just a bit boring," you whispered, kissing her neck next, letting your teeth graze the sensitive skin. "But it's okay, because you taste very good."

Alexia stiffened under you, and you chuckled at her reaction.

"I did tell you I wanted to have sex, right?" You said, pulling back to look at her face. "I still want to, choking or not."

"No choking," Alexia confirmed, her hands gripping your hipbone possessively.

"Okay," you nodded, meeting her eyes with a softer smile now. "No choking. We can work with that."

You leaned in again, this time slower, more intentional. When your lips met hers, it was different from the playful kisses earlier, it was deeper, hungrier even. Alexia's hands slid from your hips to your lower back, pulling you flush against her as she kissed you back with equal fervor.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Alexia's pupils were dilated and her lips were swollen.

"Bedroom?" you whispered against her mouth.

"Bedroom," she agreed, and there was no more teasing in her voice, just need.

You stood up from her lap, extending your hand. She took it, and as you led her down the hallway, you couldn't help but glance back at her with a grin.

"For the record," you said, "I'm going to keep a running list of all my ideas. We'll negotiate later."

Alexia laughed, pulling you back against her at the bedroom doorway. "Of course you will," she said fondly. "But for now, let me show you what I will do to you right now."

Tag list: @neutraiise , @milkveed@browercc, @ace-of-baked, @ikzzzya, @sky-the-trans-guy00 , @knight-16@papimapileon, @unpoppablebubbles@whiskeredshrimp-blog@goodloe-e@liloandstitchstan@s0ciety-cxv@dfwspky@karmajn@awosofavs @wosofavfanfics@riyaexee@miaereen @kiwidreamersstuff@valuyhh@flashreader2021@sxekhaos@layalisthings - I changed my taglist because there were a few @ that wouldn't let me tag them or that had changed their @, so please, if you want to be tagged, just let me know.

[tcifob]

Grassroot Soccer Annual Gala • London, UK - December 3, 2025

🎥: Ethan Zohn via IG Reels

[didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback]

no wonder alexia is working her shoulders. she will be carrying a lot of weight on them in the next few months 💪