Discover Top Posts Tagged with #alexia x reader

Beyond the Badge | Alexia Putellas x reader - Part 7

Part 7

Summary : You're Real Madrid Femenino personified, the captain, the one who joined the day the club was born. A 15-2 agreggate against Barça makes you wonder if loyalty is enough, and the Spanish camp that follows only make it worse. You've known Alexia Putellas for years but have never been close. This camp has other ideas for you both.

Pairing : Alexia Putellas x Real Madrid! Reader

Word count : 10.8k

A/n : Rumors are saying this chapter contains the long-awaited Alexia POV 👀

Warnings : 18+

Masterlist

-----------

Everybody whistles and catcalls as you exit the locker room in a rush after the win against Sevilla. Misa screams “be careful it’s colder in London,” loud enough that you hear her while in the corridor. You should feel some guilt for the lie, but you don’t really.

You ignore them, going to catch the Uber that you ordered earlier. You had the time to take a quick shower and change in some neutral clothes, you’re not sure Alexia would let you get in her car later if you were in a full Merengues kit.

The flight to Barcelona passes in a blur, the flight is short, and at this point in your career traveling is second nature. El Prat is quieter than usual, but you aren't letting your guard down. You’ve kept your hat low and your sunglasses firmly on for the entire flight, they now feel completely ridiculous considering it’s pitch-black outside

You keep your head down. One person with a phone camera and a good memory, and you'd be trending before you reached baggage claim. Social media would make crazy theories about you joining Barça if you were seen here, and you don’t even want to think what the Real Madrid group chat would be like.

Alexia already shared her loc in the parking lot, having her meet you at arrivals was never an option. The weather isn’t exactly cooperating for early May, but you suppose it beats the rain back in Madrid. Alexia told you to bring your bathing suit in case you want to use her pool, you doubt it’s going to leave your bag.

Alexia didn’t park close, meaning you have to walk for a bit with a steady undercurrent of stress keeping you on edge. Your eyes flick around every two seconds, scanning the quiet lot. You know the odds of getting caught are tiny, but odds only matter until one person actually recognizes you. After that, it would be an absolute mess.

The rows of vehicles are entirely deserted when you finally spot her Cupra. The moment you approach, the driver's side door swings open and Alexia steps out. She wraps her arms securely around your shoulders, and you instinctively circle yours around her hips, pulling her close. “Hola,” she whispers into your hair, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your head.

You don’t even say it back, you let your forehead sink against her shoulder. All the anxiety of the flight evaporates as you breathe her in, your nose nuzzling into the warm, familiar curve of her neck.

“Someone’s tired,” she murmurs affectionately. She presses one last kiss to the side of your head before stepping back, her arms leaving your shoulders. She opens the passenger door for you, taking your bag in her hand to throw it onto the backseat.

When you’re both seated inside the warm car, you finally take the time to watch her. She’s wearing comfy clothes, a Nike sweater and sweats, but she looks great. She gazes back, reaching over to remove the sunglasses from your nose. She places them on the dashboard and then kisses you properly.

You respond instantly, your hand coming up to cup her cheek. For a few unhurried minutes, the empty parking lot disappears as you lose yourselves in each other. Ignoring the deep soreness settling into your muscles from your own game, you gaze at the backseat, considering it for a second.

Alexia catches that. “I have a massive game tomorrow, and I have to sleep.” You let out a frustrated groan, but you nod. You know the drill.

Her right hand finds your thigh the second she starts driving. You begin to caress the back of it, only to freeze when you notice the details. “No way. Did you seriously get a Barça manicure ?”

She smiles, clearly proud of it. “Yes, but you can’t complain, they’re short.” You laugh louder at that, looking down at her hand again. It’s freshly done, the nails clean and short, alternating between red and blue depending on the finger.

“I like them,” you say, then you see the smug smile on her face and add quickly, “Not the colors, obviously, just the fact that you got them done. The red ones during camp looked great too, just… impractical.” She snorts, but you can see the color on her cheeks from the compliment. “So how are you doing ?”

“Stressed,” she admits, her gaze fixed on the road. “But a lot better now that you’re sitting next to me.”

You roll your eyes, a warmth expanding in your chest. “Flirt,” you tease. She doesn’t even try to deny it, and the rest of the drive passes in easy small talk.

Alexia’s house is in a wealthy neighborhood. It’s called Pedralbes, she informs you, the kind of area where the fences are high and nothing is out of place. You prefer living in the middle of the city, but you understand her need for quietness.

She badges the gate open, revealing a modern house with palm trees standing guard in front. Parking in the middle of the driveway, she grabs your bag from the backseat as you get out. You’re both silent as you walk to the front door, as if respecting the stillness around you.

Pushing inside, you kick off your shoes at the door. The layout is exactly what the ultra-modern exterior promised : tall ceilings, a living room big enough to host the whole Barça team, a patio outside, and a swimming pool glowing in the background.

There are multiple framed jerseys on the walls, perfectly aligned, with her historic 500-games shirt displayed right next to the 300 and 400 ones. There’s no sign of her trophies, making you suppose she keeps them somewhere else.

An adjacent wall is entirely covered in photos : her family, her close friends, casual team pictures, and a dog. They aren't nearly as focused on football as you would have thought, featuring snapshots from vacations, gatherings at relatives' homes, and candid moments in the streets of Barcelona. Some of them still feature pictures with trophies, but they aren’t dominating the space.

As you trace the images, a pair of arms slip around your waist. Alexia hugs you from behind, resting her weight against your back as she presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Can we go to sleep now ?” she murmurs. “I promise I'll give you the full tour tomorrow.”

You agree without hesitation. She has an incredibly important match tomorrow, and you refuse to steal another minute of her rest. But the second you step into her bedroom, you can’t stifle the laugh that escapes your lips. Sitting in a pristine, transparent showcase are her two Ballons d’Or. It’s the only trace of her football career in the entire room, but it’s a pretty shiny one.

“Really ?” you tease, gesturing toward the glass.

She shrugs. “They’re a reminder of why I’m doing all of this.”

“That is an incredibly flex-heavy reminder, just saying.”

She lets out a low chuckle. “Hey, don’t blame me because they’re gold.”

“Ale, you literally texted me a picture of your new Louis Vuitton bag two days ago,” you counter, turning to face her. “I know you have expensive taste. You absolutely love that they’re gold.”

“Maybe,” she murmurs. Before you can reply, she steps into your space, turning you back around so she can wrap her arms around your waist from behind. Pulling you flush against her chest, she leans in until her lips are brushing the shell of your ear, sending an immediate shiver down your spine. “Tomorrow after we’ve won,” she whispers, “I’m going to fuck you from behind while you’re staring at them.”

You choke on air and she smiles against the back of your neck. Alexia had said some filthy things to you in the heat of the moment before, but never a promise like this out of nowhere. You’re into it, so incredibly into it, and she knows it, or she wouldn’t have dared to say these words. You know she isn't even that confident about the match tomorrow, she just wanted to rile you up.

You deliberately press your ass back against her, grinning when you feel her entire posture go rigid. “If you win tomorrow,” you promise, lowering your voice. “I’ll let you do that. And much more.”

“It’s not fair considering we can’t do a single thing about it right now,” she complains, her hands tightening on your waist.

You twist out of her embrace, stepping back to gaze at her with an innocent smile. “You’re the one who started it, Ale.”

“And I deeply regret it now,” she groans, running a frustrated hand over her face.

You get ready for bed quietly, stealing a shirt and a pair of shorts from her drawer despite having packed your own. Ten minutes later, you’re both tucked under the sheets. Her bed is massive and ridiculously comfortable, the kind of warmth you never want to leave.

As you settle down, Alexia shifts until she’s lying half on top of you, her face completely hidden in the crook of your neck. You’ve figured out by now that this must be her favorite way to sleep. Her hand rests flat against your skin under your shirt, while yours settles on her ass, under her shorts. “Goodnight, amor,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“Goodnight, cariño,” she whispers back against your skin. You fall asleep quickly, comforted both by the weight of her body on yours and the deep tiredness left over from the game.

In the morning, Alexia’s stress is so palpable it’s almost painful to watch. You’re quite surprised, with Spain, she’s always so composed before the big games. You suppose this is what she actually looks like in the privacy of her own room. To counter it, you become extra tactile, and it seems to help her relax a little. She sits between your legs eating breakfast on the couch while rewatching the first leg.

Spending your morning analyzing tactical tape isn't your version of an off-day, but you find your own entertainment. Once your hands are free of the breakfast bowl, she lets you trace patterns along her skin and hold her close. As long as you don't interrupt her hyper-fixation on the match, she lets you do whatever you want. Definitely not a waste of time.

You handle lunch while she packs her gear bag, since she has to leave immediately after eating. The kitchen is vast and completely separated from the living room, a layout rare for modern builds like this, but Alexia had mentioned it was one of the details that made her buy the place. She wanders in toward the end, helping you set the table simply because she doesn't know what to do with her hands.

Alexia is buzzing with energy as you eat. You remember her saying that part of the reason her parents were so happy she played sports growing up was because it contained her energy. You understand that perfectly now.

“Can you still live text the game, even if you’re here ?” she asks.

You smile, leaning across the table to press a reassuring kiss to her lips. She sighs against your mouth, letting some of the tension drain out of her. “I will," you promise softly. "Go be great.”

You watch the video of her arriving at the stadium on Barça’s Instagram. She’s not exhibiting an ounce of stress. Her eyes are focused, her shoulders and jaw set, everything expected from the captain. It’s a far cry from the woman who was in this house earlier.

Seeing her that tense this morning felt like a time machine to the early national team days. Even if you weren’t close back then, she wasn’t very good at hiding her emotions. Jenni would spend pre-match hours half-teasing her, half-helping her calm down to the amusement of the rest of the squad. She grew up after that, the spotlight changes people, or at least it makes them learn exactly when to show their soft side.

You watched it all unfold from afar, but the changes were obvious. She had everything hitting her at the exact same time: winning the Ballon d’Or, breaking up with Jenni, claiming the first Champions League, dealing with the mess with the federation, taking the Spanish armband, tearing her ACL, handling becoming mainstream, and likely personal shit you don’t even know about.

She changed so much after that, you sometimes have trouble connecting her with the twenty-two-year-old version you first met. Now, her head always held high when there is an audience, media trained to the point she can’t give a wrong answer, the incarnation of control.

This morning was a reminder that people rarely change entirely, they grow up, learn what is expected of them, and try to act accordingly. Alexia does a fantastic job at that. You like the soft side she’s showing you better.

You don’t do much after Alexia leaves. It’s not hot enough to want to get into the pool, and though her morning tour left you incredibly impressed by the home gym, it’s supposed to be an off-day, and you know recovery is part of the job.

So you just hang around the house, looking at the pictures everywhere. You wander into her office where the trophies and medals are kept, feeling a pang of jealousy at the sheer number of them. You can't help but picture where your own career would be if Real Madrid actually invested the same kind of resources into their women's section. You know choosing happiness means accepting that yours might never look like this.

Stepping closer, you pick up a miniature Liga F replica, tracing the edge. You aren't even asking for a Champions League trophy right now, just a single domestic title. Looking around the room one last time, you shake your head, she truly has a ridiculous career. You can't help but wonder if she’s going to end up adding a third Ballon d'Or to her bedroom display this September.

You put the game on the TV as soon as the pre-game coverage starts. Alexia showed you use Disney+ three times this morning to be absolutely sure you would be able to watch it without problems. The TV is huge, the disproportionate kind of huge, making you suppose Alexia watches a ridiculous number of games on it.

The commentators are already hyping up the sold-out Camp Nou, discussing how Barça remain the heavy favorites despite carrying a one-goal deficit from the first leg. They also mention the possibility of Aitana being subbed in for her first minutes back from injury, a prospect that brings a smile to your face. The camera pans to the stars, focusing first on the Bayern side : Bühl, Harder, and Stanway.

It's striking how much the roster has turned over since you wore the red shirt. ovana is the only one you shared the pitch with for more than a single season. The others, Giulia, Linda, and Carolin were only there for your final year. It’s wild to think how long ago that was. You often forget you’ve already finished your fifth season with Madrid, the time has flown by so fast it doesn't even feel real.

You don’t hold any resentment toward Bayern. The club was supportive, and your teammates were nice enough. You were simply too young when you moved there. Navigating a foreign country at 18 while barely speaking a word of English at the start had been isolating. Bayern holds a complicated, slightly bittersweet spot in your history, but it’s a permanent spot nonetheless.

The broadcast cuts to the Blaugrana stars : Alexia, Irene, Pajor. They could have panned across the entire squad and the quality wouldn't have dropped, they're world-class top to bottom. You won't support Barça, doing so would violate your DNA. But you will be happy for Aitana and Alexia if they pull this off.

The football on display is elite. Backed by the Camp Nou crowd, Barcelona is a relentless machine. Their transitions are lethal, suffocating Bayern with the kind of possession structure very few squads can execute.

Bayern is holding on for dear life, knowing their only job is to avoid breaking. They manage to survive most of the first half, but in the 43rd minute, Patri delivers one of those ridiculous, line-breaking passes that only she can see. Alexia controls it perfectly. In an instant, she fires the shot past the keeper. Camp Nou explodes. Alexia bows to the crowd, and you hate yourself for the sudden surge of pride swelling in your chest.

The first half comes to an end under the applause of the crowd. Bayern knows they can’t have a second half like the first one if they want a shot at the trophy. The second half is indeed closer, with Bayern playing a little more daringly. There are chances on both sides, but nobody converts, leaving the goalkeepers screaming at their defenses.

Aitana comes in for Vicky at the 70th minute, and the whole stadium starts chanting her name, you’re seconds away from chanting it too in Alexia’s living room.

In the 85th minute, it’s Graham who makes Camp Nou explode. She gets past her defender and crosses it into the middle, where Pajor’s head is there to meet it and power it to the back of the net. Even through the TV, the noise the stadium makes is deafening, while the commentators scream Goal a hundred times.

The crowd is silenced in the 4th minute of additional time, however, when Bühl’s shot curls right into the top corner, away from Cata’s hands. The broadcast immediately captures Alexia’s reaction, because cameras apparently can’t stay away from her. Her jaw is set, her eyes dark. She has the face of a woman on a mission.

The match goes to extra time, and you’re instantly frustrated because it means Alexia will be coming home even later. Barça continues to dominate possession, but the chances are dead even. The players are visibly exhausted, shirts clinging to their skin, their runs losing their sharpness. In the last few minutes, everyone is starting to accept it’s going to penalties.

Then, deep into stoppage time, Eriksson clears a cross poorly. The ball ricochets directly off Tanikawa’s back and lands miraculously right at Alexia’s feet. She doesn’t hesitate for a single fraction of a second to shoot. It isn’t a great shot, it's nowhere near the posts and lacks any real power. But Mahmutovic didn’t anticipate the strike at all, and she's beaten cleanly.

It’s an ugly goal, everyone will admit that, but nobody at the Camp Nou cares. She whips her jersey over her head, the image instantly triggering your memory of the Bilbao final, which you'd been tortured into watching after losing a bet to Aitana. Her abs are flexing, the tattoos on her back are fully on display, and her entire team is sprinting frantically behind her.

The Bayern players collapse to the turf, utterly dejected. The entire stadium, maybe even the whole city of Barcelona, is chanting her name as she gives her legendary celebratory bow after being buried beneath a mountain of teammates.

You don’t get any news from Alexia until an hour after the game, when she’s finally in her ice bath. She apologizes for the wait, explaining that the media essentially kidnapped her before her teammates did the exact same thing. You have no problem believing that. She progressively replies to all your live texts, her excitement radiating through the screen.

She says you will continue the conversation in person since she has to go shower. Right before she logs off, she drops a link to a high-end Japanese restaurant. “Send me your order,” her message reads. “It’s celebration night.”

Aitana texts you back around the same time, thanking you for the congratulations on her comeback. She wastes no time roasting you for hate-watching her team. You aren't remotely in the mood to reveal your current location, wanting to let her just ride the high of the victory without complicating things with your personal life.

The moment she sees you, a true, entirely unguarded smile breaks across her face. She is still vibrating from the adrenaline of the win, the sheer energy radiating off her. She sets her things down on the floor, and you immediately step into her arms.

It takes a while for Alexia to fight her way out of Camp Nou. She keeps texting to keep you updated, and you let out a long exhale when she finally messages that she’s leaving, nearly two hours after the final whistle. When the front door finally clicks open, you turn to see her standing there in her Barça-issued tracksuit, a heavy gear bag slung over one shoulder and a massive bag of Japanese takeout in her other hand.

She lets out a frustrated groan against your throat but complies, giving you a sharp, parting nip on the lips. The absurd amount of food she ordered makes you laugh, running yourself into the ground for 120 minutes apparently creates a black hole in a midfielder’s stomach.

“Congrats, amor,” you murmur against her lips before capturing them in a deep kiss. She reciprocates instantly, her fingers gripping your hips tightly. When she starts to drive you back against the wall, you reluctantly break away with a grin. “I’m actually starving, and the food is still warm.”

It’s totally not respecting your diet, but you let it slide. You both settle on the couch, her legs draped over your lap. She boldly tries to negotiate putting the match replay on the big screen, but one lethal look from you silences the idea instantly.

You can’t keep the image of her shirtless out of your mind. The knowledge that thousands of people were screaming for the exact woman who belongs entirely to you tonight. The sheer possessiveness of the thought is intoxicating. The second you both finish eating, you slide across the cushions to settle onto her lap, nipping playfully at her earlobe.

“Remember your little promise from last night, captain ?” you whisper against her skin. “I think you deserve that, don’t you think ?”

Alexia’s entire body goes rigid before a dark look takes over her eyes. Without a word, she hooks her arms under your thighs and hoists you up, carrying you toward the bedroom. She nearly loses her footing and drops you midway down the hall when you lean in to bite down hard on her neck, a ragged gasp escaping her lips.

She tosses you onto the mattress a bit unceremoniously, and climbs on top of you without a shred of hesitation. The kiss that follows isn't remotely tentative, her tongue claims your mouth in seconds while her hands slide eagerly under your shirt. It’s the first time she’s taken charge like this since you started sleeping together, and you're more than happy to let her.

She pulls the shirt over your head and trails a line of burning kisses down your neck. You arch instinctively against her body, drawing a smug smile from her lips. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take care of you?” you manage to murmur. “You’re the one who won.”

At first, you aren't even sure she heard you as she continues to press her lips to your skin, slowly licking a path up your jawline to your ear. “You don’t get it,” she breathes against your skin, her voice dark. “This is my prize for winning.”

She nips your earlobe softly, careful with her teeth because she knows you aren't a fan of that so early on. A sudden, violent wave of heat spreads through your entire body at her words, pooling heavily between your thighs. If she stays in this mood all night, it’s going to be an unforgettable one.

You yank at the hem of her top, and she discards it without breaking eye contact. She’s left in her sports bra, the exact image that you saw on a screen earlier. You swallow hard, your hands mapping the defined ridges of her torso while she reaches up to tie her hair. The second her hands are free, she traps your wrists against the mattress above your head.

A brief flicker of surprise crosses your features, and you immediately watch her confidence falter. Her grip loosens. “Tell me if I’m doing too much," she murmurs, her eyes scanning yours. "Or if you don’t like this.”

You easily slip one hand free, reaching up to gently cup her jaw and pull her down into a soft, grounding kiss. It’s entirely different from the frantic heat of before, meant purely to reassure her. “It’s incredibly hot, don’t worry," you whisper against her lips. "I promise I'll tell you if it's too much.”

To prove your point, you give her jaw a teasing bite before dropping your head back down, deliberately placing your wrist back above your head. It’s an unmistakable green light. Instantly, that fierce, confident smile returns to her face.

She's dragging it out, weaponizing her patience in a way that is driving you crazy, but the sheer pleasure on her face makes it impossible to stop her. You fight a losing battle with yourself to keep your hands pinned above your head, failing miserably the second her warm tongue connects with your nipple.

“Hands,” Alexia murmurs against your wet skin, a smirk evident in her tone. “Keep them up.”

You groan in protest but snap your wrists back against the mattress, desperate for her to continue. The sensory overload of her playing with your breasts has you completely unraveled, you're slick and aching without a single touch of any kind below your waist.

Whenever you try to grind your hips upwards to find some relief, she pins you down, shutting down the movement instantly. Sweating and desperate, you genuinely need her between your legs, in whatever way she wants to take you. “Ale, please. Hurry the fuck up,” you pant.

She just lets out a soft laugh, looking up at you from your chest. Dios, her eyes are dark, so completely different from how bright and sparkly they were when she first walked through the front door. “You have absolutely no patience,” she taunts. She is incredibly lucky she scored that winning goal.

“Next time, I’m tying you up,” you promise, your voice tight with desperation. “And we will see how patient you are then.”

A lethal smile touches her lips. “Bet.” She sinks her teeth into your midriff. The sharp spike of pleasure catches in your throat. “Until then,” she whispers, capturing your gaze, “you are entirely mine to play with. Hands back up, captain’s orders.” You let out a whimper, knowing you would die of embarrassment if you could see yourself right now.

You manage to obey the captain’s order, though your fingers curl into fists against the sheets when she finally discards your clothes and drags her mouth along your inner thighs.

“Ale, please,” you beg. You absolutely hate having to beg, but you legitimately can’t help it right now. Every muscle in your arms is shaking with the effort it takes not to grab her jaw and pull her directly where you want her. Since begging isn't working, you pivot to a challenge. “I know how badly you want to taste me.”

She looks up at you, thoroughly amused by your shifting tactics. “I will get to taste you later, cariño. But this position right now is the only one where I get to hear you whimpering and begging.”

A defiant smirk cuts through your desperation. “There are a dozen different ways to get me to beg and whimper, Putellas. You just have to be inventive enough to figure them out.”

She freezes instantly. You hear the faint, rough Joder she mumbles directly against your skin. For a second, she seems entirely torn between speeding up because she wants it just as badly, or continuing to torture you a bit longer

She pushes up onto her extended arms, towering over you so she can take you in completely. A hopelessly cocky smile slowly spreads across her face, but you are far gone enough that you can only find it incredibly sexy. “I haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re absolutely wrecked,” she gloats.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” you pant. It doesn’t sound anywhere near as sarcastic as you wanted it to, you are completely stripped of the focus required for a proper attitude. You try to rub your thighs together for relief, but her legs are heavily pinning yours down, completely shutting down the movement.

Alexia reaches up and grabs your left hand, tightly interlacing her fingers with yours and pulling them down onto your stomach, leaving a quiet command for you to keep your right hand pinned above your head. Her free hand anchors firmly on your hip, anchoring you in place as she finally lowers her body between your thighs.

She keeps her gaze locked straight on yours as she licks you for the very first time. The moan that tears from your throat isn't loud, but it is deep, heavy, and throaty. “Dios, you’re so wet,” she breathes against your skin.

Any potential comeback is instantly swallowed as her tongue strokes over you again. Your eyes snap shut, your free right hand blindly clawing into the pillow for support. You completely lose your mind when she focuses all her attention directly on your clit. Apparently, she’s done teasing you and wants to see just how fast she can push you over the edge.

The answer turns out to be embarrassingly fast, especially considering she hasn't even used her fingers. Your entire body spasms as a violent wave of pleasure takes over, and as she climbs up your body to press heavy, hot kisses to your neck while your breathing recovers, you weakly mutter for her to shut up.

You begin to run your hands over her back, sliding your fingers under the elastic straps of her sports bra to pull her body closer to yours. “My turn,” you whisper. “What do you want?”

Alexia smirks, her palms tracing slow circles on your ribs. “Nice try. I distinctly remember saying I was the one doing the work tonight.”

You look up at her, genuinely frustrated. “Are you sure about that ?” To force her to reconsider, you let your hands drift lower, gripping her ass firmly. She lets out a small, involuntary groan but chooses to kiss you deeply instead of answering, her fingers mapping your skin to distract you.

“You really are an ass girl, aren’t you?” she laughs against your mouth.

You smile back, letting your hands slide beneath the waistband of her sweatpants to grip her bare skin. “You have to admit, you have a great ass.”

To your amusement, Alexia actually blushes. Considering what you two are currently doing in this bed, you find it hilarious that she still reacts like that to a simple compliment. “Fine,” you relent. “If I can’t take care of you, at least take the rest of your clothes off.”

Alexia doesn’t obey immediately, clearly too occupied trailing her hands over your skin and peppering kisses down your neck. Impatient, you arch your hips upward to urge her along. She lets out a low laugh against your throat. “I thought being a world-class defender required patience.”

“Yeah, well, that’s my job, it’s not the same. I’m not in a football kit right now, unlike you,” you say, playing with the hem of her Barça sweatpants to emphasize your point.

Alexia finally relents, slipping off the bed with a challenge in her eyes. “If you want to see me naked that badly...” You thoroughly enjoy the view as she pulls her sports bra over her head, followed smoothly by her sweatpants and underwear. “Happy?” she asks, a smug expression on her face as she crawls back into bed and pins you beneath her weight.

“Infinitely,” you hum against her lips as she kisses you deeply. You waste no time letting your hands roam freely over her bare skin. The moment your fingers glide down to trace the inside of her thighs, a triumphant smirk pulls at your lips. “ Fuck, you’re soaked.”

Alexia quickly catches your wrist to pull your hand away, drawing a frustrated groan from your lips. “I have a plan, don’t worry,” she promises breathlessly.

She shifts her weight, sliding her thighs securely between yours. A sharp groan escapes her throat, her head throwing back the exact moment she locks into place against you. You grip her hips firmly to guide her, tilting your pelvis until you catch the friction, a deep moan torn from your lungs as you align.

It is pure electricity, feeling her clit friction flawlessly against yours, hearing the ragged noises she’s making while the exact same pleasure builds inside you. The best part about her house is the complete privacy, you both can be as loud as you want without bothering a soul. Your nails dig deep into her hips, while her own fingers lock securely into the soft flesh of your thigh.

You both are at a loss of words, utterly lost in the sensation. Alexia is more vocal than you, as always, and you greedily drink in every hitching breath and whimper she makes. Watching her ride you like this, her abs and biceps flexing with every rhythmic push, is an intoxicating turn-on that drags you toward the edge, again, at a terrifying speed.

Your movements grow increasingly frantic and messy as the friction brings you both to the brink. She shatters first, crying out loudly as her hips jerk uncontrollably against yours. The intense friction immediately triggers your own release, sending you crashing over the edge right along with her. You pant heavily, gripping her hips so tightly you're certain you'll leave bruises.

Alexia collapses completely against your chest, her breathing ragged and uneven. You wrap your arms securely around her, holding her close. “That felt amazing,” you whisper against her temple, pressing a soft kiss there. Post-win Alexia is definitely something you wouldn't mind experiencing again, even if it means Barcelona keeps winning.

“There’s still one thing left to do,” she says, a lethal smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. You arch an eyebrow, genuinely not seeing where she’s going with this. “Do you remember what I promised you yesterday ?” She points her chin toward the gleaming Ballons d’Or across the room, and your entire body instantly hits with a violent wave of heat in anticipation. You absolutely love post-win Alexia.

She slides off the mattress, pulls open a dresser drawer, and retrieves a sleek box, tossing it onto the bed right next to you. “Pick your poison.” You pop the lid open and shoot an amused look her way when you're met with seven different dildos of varying sizes. She shrugs defiantly, but you can clearly see the pink blush creeping up her neck and onto the top of her chest.

“You’re the winner tonight, so you get to choose,” you argue.

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not the one getting it inside me.”

Fair enough. You select one of the average sizes, purely because you want to get fucked fast and are not in the mood for a ton of preparation. Alexia doesn’t comment on your choice, silently buckling the harness around her hips and snapping the toy into place.

“On all fours, facing that way,” she commands, pointing directly toward the golden trophies. You can't help but smile as you comply.

You drop into position without a second thought. Watching her dominate the bedroom is a massive turn-on, and you want her inside you as soon as humanly possible. She presses her palms firmly against your shoulders, pushing you down to make you bend further. The distinct click of her opening the bottle of lube echoes through the quiet room, making your muscles clench in pure anticipation.

“You don’t need to use your fingers to ready me,” you breathe out, your voice tight. “I just want to take you.”

You hear Alexia take a sharp, deep breath at your words, steadying her own racing pulse. “Tell me if it’s too much at any moment, yeah ?”

You agree instantly, nodding blindly. Her right hand clamps down securely on your hip, and you instinctively push yourself backward against her, feeling the cold slickness of the lube-coated toy graze your skin.

“Always so eager,” she mocks softly, her voice thick. She cuts the talking there, centering the head of the toy against your tight opening. You take a deep breath, consciously untangling the knots in your stomach as she slowly begins to drive forward. The intense, stretching fullness is incredible, and a long, broken groan escapes your lips.

Because of how wet you are from her previous ministrations and the lube, she encounters absolutely no resistance as she slowly pushes inside. Alexia lets out a rough groan the moment she bottoms out, the base of the toy pressing firmly against her clit. “Ale, you feel so good,” you pant, encouraging her as her left hand slides up to caress the curve of your bare back.

Her thrusts are experimental at first, carefully testing your limits. But the moment she realizes she isn't going to break you, her rhythm turns harder, rougher. She anchors her left hand firmly onto your shoulder to steady her weight while she pistons into you with a bruising, unrelenting pace.

Overwhelmed by the friction, you try to turn your head to the side to handle the depth, but her fingers instantly find your jaw, turning your face back toward the front of the room. “No. Look straight ahead at the Ballons d’Or.”

The sheer, unadulterated cockiness of it completely shatters whatever restraint you had left. You lock your eyes forward on the golden trophies. They are impossibly shiny in the dim light, the polished glass of the display case capturing the blurred, rhythmic reflection of her body driving entirely into yours.

The wet, smacking sound her hips make each time they slam against yours is completely obscene, turning you on in a way you never saw coming. The angle she's working from behind is hitting perfectly, threatening to throw you over the edge on internal stimulation alone. When she tries to slide her thumb down to touch your clit, you gently nudge her hand away, knowing you would get too close to overstimulation.

You have absolutely no idea how Alexia still has this much energy, if you had just played 120 minutes of elite football, you would have definitely tapped out by now. Instead, her movements remain incredibly powerful and fast, quickly reducing you to a breathless, moaning mess beneath her.

The next orgasm catches you completely by surprise. You weren't expecting it to be this easy after already coming twice, but Alexia slightly shifts her weight, hitting a spot deep inside you just right. Your walls instantly clamp down around the toy, and you can feel Alexia gasp, taken aback by your sudden, violent release.

Panting against the pillows, you reach your limit. “Too much,” you manage to murmur, shoving back against her thighs. Alexia obeys instantly, sliding out of you with a heavy exhale and removing the harness from her hips. As soon as you’re able to, you pull her down, using your mouth and fingers to make her completely fall apart in a matter of minutes.

The adrenaline evaporates all at once, leaving both of you completely heavy and drained. You melt into her chest, dead weight against her body as she wraps her arms around you, her thumb idly stroking your hip. “We need to shower,” you murmur into her collarbone.

She lets out a dramatic groan at the mere idea of standing up, but somehow, you both manage to drag yourselves out of bed. The shower is a quick, functional affair, purely because your bodies are screaming to get back under the covers.

Soon enough, you’re tangled up in the exact same position as before. The sheets smell intensely of sex, but neither of you has a shred of energy to change them, so you gladly let it slide. You reach over to set your alarm for Monday morning, and Alexia sleepily kisses your shoulder, promising she'll drive you to the airport. You drift in the dark, murmuring quiet nonsense to each other until sleep finally claims you both.

Alexia is incredibly grumpy the next morning, complaining that you completely messed up her sleep schedule and made her sore. In your opinion, it’s more the fault of the game she played yesterday but whatever. She’s also fiercely cuddly and touchy as you get ready, which more than makes up for the attitude.

The drive to the airport is filled with Alexia’s playlist blasting through the speakers and you complaining about the morning training session you are thoroughly convinced you won't survive. You look over at Alexia’s profile, her sunglasses perched on the bridge of her nose. She is so fucking beautiful. You ache to trace her jawline with your thumb and bite down on her neck right then and there, but you decide that’s a terrible idea while she’s navigating traffic. If she catches you staring, she doesn’t comment on it.

Goodbyes are the same as usual, making out intensely in the car after parking as far from the terminal entrance as possible. It’s especially hard today, considering neither of you knows exactly when you’ll see each other again with her hectic schedule to end the season.

“Thanks for coming,” she says softly, her face close to yours, her eyes earnest now that her sunglasses are pushed to the top of her head. “I know I wasn’t the most available this weekend, but it meant a lot. Truly.”

“Don’t worry, you more than made up for your lack of availability last night,” you tease against her lips. You kiss her again, both of you moving slowly this time, intentionally taking the time to memorize each other. “I had a great time as a whole.”

She smiles, and you both finally step out of the car before you actually miss your flight. The moment your feet hit the pavement, your interactions shift completely, neither of you wants to draw public attention. She casually helps you with your bags, and you exchange a simple, disciplined goodbye before parting ways.

-----------

The absolute first thing Alexia does when she walks through her front door is face-plant straight back into her bed to crash. She finally emerges late in the morning, immediately checking her phone. Seeing your message confirming you have landed safely, a soft smile tugs at her lips as she reacts with a simple heart. She also notices a text from Alba asking about hanging out tonight; not thinking much of it, Alexia types out a quick, No problem.

Considering it’s an official rest day, she spends the vast majority of it curled up on the couch, watching the latest Bayern Munich match and meticulously taking notes on her tablet.

The analytical silence doesn't last. Her screen flashes with a barrage of incoming texts from the group chat she shares with Misa, Irene, Mariona, Laia, and Jenni.

Misa : Okay, so you all remember the whole thing about y/n seeing an English player during camp ? I think Vicky wasn’t saying bullshit. Y/n was literally in London this weekend. She’s saying she was just seeing a random girl but I don’t believe her. @Mariona @Laia I need you all to figure this out.

Alexia furrows her brows at the message. She feels the jealousy, an ugly feeling at the pit of her stomach. Then her brain catches up. Oh she’s the girl you were talking about. She has no idea how you’ve managed to throw the goalkeeper off so much.

Irene : How does that concern us ?

Misa : Oh I know you don’t care about gossip but I want it. Especially if it’s about y/n and another football player.

Jenni : I feel like I’ve missed a few episodes

Jenni : Goodie two shoes was sneaking out at camp ? Seems out of character

Mariona : Yeah, but you didn’t see her last camp she was acting really weird. And she didn’t sleep in her and Vicky room after our England game

Jenni : Wait, miss “I’m too good to be friendly with people that don’t wear the Real Madrid jersey” was put in the same room as Vicky ? That’s hilarious she must have gone crazy

Misa : You’re harsh her bf is literally Aitana

Jenni : Yeah but that’s like the only Barça player she hangs out with. She barely tolerates Mariona since she’s with Arsenal

Alexia considers defending you, but thinks it would be weird, so she just shuts up and let them talk, the game is on pause in the background.

Laia : She actually entertained the kid, to everyone surprise. Vicky got out of her that y/n thinks Misa is the hottest on the team

Jenni : Why do they don’t select me when something interesting like that happens ? Her getting bullied is my jam

Alexia rolls her eyes, Jenni doesn’t like you, to say the least. You’ve never been the friendliest person during camps, mostly staying with players you already know, and often avoiding Barça players not named Aitana. You never taking a stand against the federation was the final nail in the coffin, especially considering you benefited from it. The vice-captain position, always in the front for media and ad campaign. Jenni also isn’t a huge fan of Real, it didn’t help.

There’s some uneasiness, because Alexia distinctly remembers criticizing you along with Jenni a few times. Then she remembers you making lunch for her yesterday before her game and she feels terrible.

Misa : She told me she actually lied to Vicky and that I was only the safe answer

Misa : My heart was broken

Irene : I’m once again asking why does her personal life concerns us ? She’s not even close to anyone here except Misa

The moans she got out of you while Alexia was fucking you from behind resonate in her head. Alexia doesn't lie to her close circle. She's never been that person. The guilt is starting to eat at her. It’s one thing to say nothing, another one to ignore it when they’re straight about talking about it. She almost sends something, but then the chat moves on.

Irene : Wait, are you interested in her ?

Misa : NO

Misa : That’s my bro

Misa : Nothing more

Mariona : Ngl I’m happy about that

Laia : I think you resent her too much for how she acted with the federation

Mariona : It’s not about that, or like not totally

Jenni : No one here was friends with her way before this happened

Jenni : Let’s say it confirmed my opinion of her

Irene : I’m not in this group to read all of you criticize one of our teammates

Jenni : Oh come on don’t start acting like you like her

Irene : I don’t, which is why I don’t talk about her. So once again, why are we discussing it ?

Misa : I’m asking Mariona and Laia for intel

Mariona : Fine we will ask around at Arsenal

Jenni : Now can we come back to something. “The safe answer” ? That’s a weird thing to say. It’s also an asshole move to lie in a bet but that doesn’t surprise me. What did she got in exchange ?

Misa : I think some info from Vicky ? She didn’t say much

Alexia is tempted to send you a text to ask, but it would be admitting that this conversation is going on to you. It doesn’t seem like a great idea.

Mariona : Wdym by it’s a weird thing to say ?

Jenni : Well that kinda means she didn’t want to say the true answer to Vicky

Jenni : And like why would it be shameful

Jenni : Imagine if it’s actually a Spanish player she was sneaking up with

Laia : There’s no way for it to happen with our double rooms

Laia : I mean only Ale has a single room. Are you sleeping with her @Alexia ?

Alexia heart genuinely stops for a second, then two, then three. She exhales when she sees everyone leaving a laughing emoji on the message, even Irene.

Alexia : I leave you all unsupervised for 20 minutes and this is what happens … ?

Jenni : We needed to say that for you to appear ?

Alexia : Laia @ me, I was rewatching the Bayern game

Mariona : Pls no talk about Champions League rn.

Arsenal were eliminated by Lyon on Saturday, Alexia understand it being a touchy subject.

Laia : You do realize we can see that you’ve been reading it all along, right ?

Alexia goes for the safe answer in this group : not responding.

Misa : If our only option is Alexia, we can for sure say we’re back on the English player path

Laia : I mean… Alexia did you slept with her ?

Alexia : Do I really need to answer that ?

Alexia : No.

Jenni : She doesn’t feel like Ale’s type

Jenni : Ale doesn’t need someone who’s even more of a control freak and a law follower than her

Alexia : I’m gonna leave this group for good

Laia : Is Jenni wrong ?

Jenni isn’t wrong per se, but Alexia doesn’t really think you fit what they’re describing, at least from the time she’s been spending with you and talking to you recently.

Misa : She’s surprisingly chill outside of football

Misa : But Alexia is absolutely not her type. Ale is too much of a football nerd, y/n can’t stand that

Okay Alexia is a bit offended now. You’ve been letting her talk about football things, about tactics and the upcoming games. Have you been secretly hating that and just been waiting for her to shut up ? Alexia thinks back to all her rants about Bayern, were you just being nice ?

Alexia : Yeah I’m a football nerd because all my friends are assholes. Football never disappoints

Irene : That’s a very questionable statement

Alexia : Is anyone willing to support me today ?

The thumbs down reaction on her message tells her everything she needs to know.

Alexia : And then you all wonder why I don’t answer

Jenni : y/n isn’t as big as a football nerd as Ale ? I’m genuinely surprised

Misa : They’re very similar in the way they follow their diets, training, sleep schedule and recovery like psychos. But y/n does it because it’s her job, Ale does it because she has a problem with football

Misa : Like if I hang out with y/n and start talking about tactics got the upcoming game she will kill me

Alexia thinks about your live-texting of her games, and she’s thoroughly confused.

Misa : Even with Aitana they don’t speak much about football itself, I think

Jenni : A Merengue that doesn’t like to talk about football tactics ? Can they room together for next camp it could be fun

Alexia is a bit offended that everyone thinks she talks about football so much. She doesn’t. Right ?

Alexia : I have a single room as the captain, remember ?

Mariona : Wait I just remembered something

Laia : Dangerous

Mariona : Do you all remember what Mapi said she heard during camp

Alexia : Oh no

Jenni : I WASN’T HERE YOU IDIOTS

Alexia : Mariona and everyone here I beg you to shut up

Jenni : You can’t do that to me

Jenni : I’m gonna text Mapi to ask her

Alexia : Don’t do that she will overblown everything

Jenni : Then tell me

Laia : I don’t think there’s another way to say it than Mapi and Fiamma heard Ale have phone sex

Jenni : NO

Jenni : I can’t breath rn

Alexia : Kill me

Irene : I hate this group

Jenni : Ale is it true ?

Jenni and her are friends now, but it still feels very weird to discuss her sex life with someone she dated for seven years.

Alexia : I’m not saying her name

Jenni : You’re not fun

Alexia : That girl disagrees

Mariona : Are you feeling well Ale ?

Laia : She’s trying to end this conversation

Jenni : You all are going to hell for not telling that to me as soon as you heard about it

Jenni : But it’s the beginning of the day here, and it couldn’t have started better

Mariona : We were too focused making fun of her, sorry

Mariona : So Ale is that serious with this girl ?

Alexia takes a second to answer, because she hasn’t asked that to herself enough. What are you two even doing ? She has no idea, and Alexia hates situations where she’s underprepared. She, not for the first time recently, asks herself how she got to this point.

Alexia : It’s casual

Irene : Since when do you do “casual” ?

Jenni : It means the girl wants casual and Ale doesn’t know how to say she’s not the casual type

Alexia : Fuck off

Jenni : Thanks for telling me I’m right

Misa : This group better be the first to be told if you two become official

Misa : Or if you need advice on how to transform it into not casual anymore

Alexia : I’m never asking for love advice here

Alexia : And you will be the last to be told

Alexia : Ok maybe second last, before the Barça kids because they will tell everyone

Jenni : Rude.

To Alexia’s relief, the conversation stops there. She was pretty afraid they were gonna make the connection between you and the noises in her room. Good that they think you two are so incompatible, she supposes. It was actually a bit hard to read that. People like Jenni that don’t know you don’t bother her, Misa does a lot more.

Alexia presses play on the Bayern game, but five minutes later she realizes she hasn't registered a single pass. Her phone is still open to the group chat. She closes it.

Alba arrives not long after Alexia finishes the game, even if she didn't reach any important conclusion from it considering how hazy her mind was. They settle outside on the patio, catching the late afternoon breeze with a quick drink and some olives. Alba pours herself a glass of wine while Alexia sticks to lemonade, refusing to touch alcohol during the season. Despite that being the case for literally years now, Alba still can’t resist teasing her about her discipline, rolling her eyes with an affectionate smirk.

At first, the conversation is the usual. Alexia talks about the game against Bayern and Alba about how the kids are at school. Then, because Alexia knew there was a true reason her sister came here, the conversation deviates. “Soooo, what’s her name.”

Alexia feigns innocence. “Who ?”

Alba rolls her eyes. “I’m supposed to believe you just really want to go home last night despite the how good your game was ? Not even accepting to have dinner with us ? And you looked very in a hurry on top of that.” Alexia winces, she’s in a bad position to lie, she’s a terrible liar anyway. “I was nice enough to not badger you in front of mama yesterday. Come on spill.”

“It hasn’t been going on for long, it’s not that important, we’re not even officially together. It’s been a little more than 3 weeks.” Alexia mumbles, eyes fixated on the sun reflecting on her swimming pool to not have to look at Alba.

“You ditched us for a girl you’ve been seeing for 3 weeks and aren’t even dating ?” Alba says, scandalized. Then there’s a pause, a long one, it forces Alexia to look at her sister. There’s a dangerous flicker of recognition in her eyes. “Weren’t you in the Spanish camp three weeks ago ?”

Alexia had no idea Alba would make that connection, her sister doesn’t care about football. Alexia should have anticipated that Alba knows her schedule more or less. Fuck, that was a huge mistake on her part. Alexia can feel her whole face heating up, she knows she’s giving it away. “Alba–”

“Don’t Alba me.” Her sister didn’t even look this delighted when Alexia gifted her some very expressive jewelry last Christmas. “I want a name, or I’m gonna start guessing and you’re gonna be horrified.”

Alexia groans internally. She’s going to tell Alba at the end anyway, getting it over it might be the best plan. “Y/n Y/l/n.”

Alba is in enough football circles, despite her dislike for the sport, to make the immediate connection. “Real Madrid captain ? The one who captains Spain when you’re not here ?” Alexia nods. “You know Alexia, you’re so predictable in every aspect of your life and then there are the women you date.”

Alexia furrows her brows. “What is that supposed to mean ?”

Alba shots her a no-bullshit stare. “It’s just that if it’s not mistaken, she’s been playing with you for ages, I think. You two have never been close, not even a little bit and you go straight to dating her ?”

“I’ve hanged out with enough footballers to know she’s not the most liked one out there. I remember you rambling about her during when the Spanish federation were being dicks even more than right now.” Alba sighs. “Most of the players are kinda like great footballer, but not particularly close to her as a person. A few of them genuinely dislike her.”

These words hurt, because it’s what has been going on non-stop in Alexia’s mind for hours. It must show on her face, because Alba tried to smoothen her words, saying jokingly. “And dating the Real Madrid captain of all people Ale ?”

“We’re not dating,” Alexia defends quickly, she can’t ignore the exasperated look on Alba’s face. “We talked during last camp and I don’t know.” Alexia shrugs. “We just hit off well I suppose. We never really talked like that in the past and then the occasion came and it just… happened.”

Alba looks at her sister up and down, still unconvinced. “You don’t let things just happen.”

“Camp is always a particular environment. It’s close-off, I don’t really have the time to relax and go home to think. She was there and easy to talk to and Vicky was annoying her, so she was with me all the time. I couldn’t even overthink honestly.”

“You’re talking about camp, but she was here in Barcelona, so it didn’t stop there.” There’s a pause, then Alba furrows her brows. “Wait did you invent the event in Madrid last week as an excuse ?”

Alba seems seconds away from rethinking everything she knows about Alexia. “No, the event was real. I might have stayed the night in Madrid which wasn’t in the original plan.” Alexia avoids her sister’s eyes at the admission, she can feel the ears get hotter. “And she’s just so easy to relax with. I don’t need to explain her football, and we talk about lot of things, and we laugh, we text each other stupid shit.” Alexia’s throws her head back, closing her eyes. “I don’t know Alba it’s just so simple when it’s just the two of us.”

“Is that about the sex ?” Alba asks jokingly, bursting out laughing when Alexia becomes as red as a tomato in the span of 2 seconds.

“Alba !” Alexia says, scandalized. She knows her sister likes to broach this subject just because it embarrasses her, but it still work every time. “I’m not talking about…” She gestures vaguely with her hands. “that with you. What even tells you we’ve done it.”

Alba looks thoroughly entertained. “Your reaction just now tells me that. Also when you said “just happened” it was pretty clear what you meant.” Alba wiggles her eyebrows, Alexia reddens even more. “I will get it out of you this summer.” Alba knows Alexia is talkative when drunk, that’s the only way to get this type of information out of her, but it works well to Alexia’s dismay. They already have a planned trip to Mexico.

“We might not be seeing each other by then.” Alexia tries to deflect. She wants to keep seeing you, maybe. She will need to sit down and think about it seriously at one point.

Apparently, Alba is trying to quicken Alexia’s reflections. “First, you’re shit at casual.” Why does everyone say that ? “And you sound really into her when you talk.” Alexia doesn’t want to think about that, that’s something for later. Alba tries to read her sister’s face, she likely can’t because she sighs heavily. “Ale you’re seeing the vice-captain of your national team. It would be a stupid idea for it to be casual. It’s even stupider to go for it without taking the time to actually think about it. You’re the OG overthinker you should know that.”

Alexia lets out a humorless laugh. “I know what the rational choice is, but I’m not sure that’s what I want. So I just don’t think about it.” Alba always had a way to make her talk about things she buried deep. Alexia doesn’t particularly like it.

“What makes you so hesitant ?” Alba softens, seeing her sister has lot of things twirling in her head, which isn’t unusual.

“We were talking earlier on the group chat.” Alba furrows her brows, Alexia immediately clarifies. “Irene, Jenni, Mariona, Laia and Misa.” Alexia swallows hard the lump in her throat from the memory. “They genuinely dislike her, Alba, and I just can’t date someone my close friends dislike.”

Alba eyes her. “You changed your mind, they can too.”

Alexia works her bottom lip. “I just shouldn’t have let it happen. Like I just had to resist 3 or 4 days of camp. Then outside of it it’s so easy to avoid her. I just let my control slip. Imagine the ruckus it would cause if it ever reaches the media ears.” Alexia panics, already seeing the frontpages in her head.

“Ale calm down,” Alba says with force. “You can’t live your life basing it on what people you don’t even know will say.”

“Everyone will criticize it, Alba. But I can’t back down now, can I ?” Alexia laughs humorlessly.

Alba sighs, it reminds her of past conversations with Alexia, where her sister never listened. “You can always back down from relationships, especially when they’ve been going on for less than a month. I know you won’t hear it, but it’s okay to break up with people.” Alexia avoids her gaze, Alba knows it means she’s not listening. “But if you do like her, I would say to go for it.”

“But people–” Alexia gets interrupted.

“You have the right to want things for yourself, you know,” Alba states. “But just don’t get in a relationship with the captain of Real Madrid without thinking of everything that comes with it, including the distance.” There’s the silent understanding between them about Alexia’s last relationship exploding because Olga was living in Madrid and Alexia was staying in Barcelona. Looking back it wasn’t the only problem, but that was the tipping point.

“I’m terrified of letting it go further and then realizing it won’t work because of our friends,” Alexia admits.

Alba sighs. “Ale, you’re acting as if she killed someone. There’s nothing unsolvable here.”

Alexia taps her fingers on the table, looking at the reflection of the sun on the surface on her swimming pool. “I hope you’re right,” she answers with a small voice.

That seems to satisfy Alba “Now come on tell me about her and how it happened, I want to know everything.”

Alexia smiles, grateful that Alba is letting the seriousness go to a territory Alexia is more comfortable with. Alexia tells the whole story to Alba, still not telling the spicy parts, making her sister complain about being told an “incomplete story”. Alexia also carefully avoid the contract part, you told her something that was supposed to be private, she can respect that. Also because Alba runs her tongue too much.

When her sister leaves later, Alexia feels heavier. She knows she has some thinking to do, she’s not sure she wants the conclusions of said thinking.

Later that night, Alexia opens her text thread with you. She starts recording a voice note with her takeaways from the game against Bayern, then she remembers the football nerd comments and just deletes it without sending anything.

-----------

A/n : I wasn't planning to include smut in this one, thought about Alexia fucking her while looking at the Ballons d'or and I just couldn't not write it.

Also I hope Alexia's POV doesn't feel too much like an info dump. They're very sporadic and are there to show things that r is entirely blind to. I also think it's the right moment to know what worries Ale.

#alexia x reader

Trending Tags

Recently Viewed Tags

#alexia x reader