touched for the very first time - alexia putellas
༄ like a virgin - madonna
༄ pairing - alexia putellas x fem!reader
༄ series - part one ; finale
༄ synopsis - everyone assumes alexia putellas keeps her distance because you’re the youngest player in the squad. the truth is far more dangerous: she’s been trying not to fall for you from the moment you arrived.
༄ word count - 5.6k
༄ notes - 5000 words of rubbish; not proof read
༄ warnings - alcohol, age gap, virgin!reader x unaware!alexia, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), strap (r receiving), strap sucking, mentions of alcohol, public sex
༄ read more - masterlist
matches at barca always feel a bit like controlled chaos.
boots thudding against concrete, someone laughing too loudly from the physio room, music leaking out of a speaker that’s been passed around the dressing room so many times nobody remembers who it belongs to anymore.
you’re used to it now.
freshly eighteen, still somehow always “the youngest” even though you insist you’re not a child.
it doesn’t matter what you say though. to them, you’re still-
“chiquita!”
mapi’s voice cuts across the room before you’ve even finished tying your laces.
you groan immediately. “don’t start.”
she grins like she’s been waiting all morning just to annoy you.
“too late, chiqui.”
ona snorts from where she’s sitting on the floor, tugging on her socks. “leave her alone, mapi.”
“why?” mapi leans on the lockers, completely unbothered. “she likes it.”
“i don’t,” you shoot back instantly.
vicky doesn’t even look up from her phone. “you do a little bit.”
“i hate all of you.”
“liar,” kika calls from the mirror, fixing her ponytail. “you literally laughed yesterday.”
you flip her off without thinking, and she laughs harder.
this is your normal.
kika, salma, vicky, you- always tangled together in noise and chaos and half-finished arguments about absolutely nothing. always in trouble for something small. always the ones making training ten percent louder than it needs to be. you wouldn’t trade it.
even when irene starts counting down like she’s pere.
“if you three don’t stop talking, i’m telling pere to start making you run extra after matches.”
“we’re four,” vicky corrects.
“no,” irene says immediately, pointing at you. “chiqui’s still little, she doesn’t count.”
“i’m literally standing right here.”
“exactly,” irene says, completely serious.
kika laughs so hard she nearly drops her boot. it’s easy. familiar. messy in the best way.
and then there’s alexia.
you notice her the same way you always do. quiet, already dressed, hair tied back perfectly, tape around her wrist even though training hasn’t started yet. she’s talking to aitana about something on the schedule, nodding slightly, listening more than she speaks.
she always looks like that.
composed. steady. captain without needing to announce it.
and she always looks at everyone the same way.
except you think she doesn’t.
you’re not sure when you started noticing it. maybe it’s the distance she keeps. not obvious, most definitely not rude, but distant nonetheless.
as if there’s a line she never crosses with you, even when she crosses it with everyone else.
she’ll ruffle vicky’s hair when she walks past, she’ll tug kika gently by the sleeve to stop her running in the hallway, she’ll wrap an arm around clara after a drill and say something softly that makes her laugh. with you however, it’s different. it's always polite and it'd always careful.
“buen trabajo, chiquita.” that’s what she says after you score, and if you’re lucky she’ll even say it after drills from time to time.
never your name, and never anything that lingers. just plain and simple, chiquita.
you used to think it was normal. everyone calls you that anyway. but it doesn’t feel the same when she says it.
because she says it like she’s reminding herself of something. like she’s putting a label on you and keeping it there.
you tighten your laces harder than you need to.
“stop staring,” vicky murmurs beside you without looking up.
“i’m not.”
“you are.”
“i’m literally just looking at the room.”
“uh-huh.”
you kick her lightly and she laughs, and across the room, alexia glances up for a second.
not at you exactly, just in your direction. and then she looks away again like she’s caught herself doing something wrong. you pretend you didn’t notice.
the game starts the way it always does- fast, loud, relentless.
you forget about everything except the ball, the space, the constant shouting of names as passes fly across the pitch. vicky is everywhere at once, claudia is trying something ridiculous again, cata is even smiling while she’s protecting the goal.
you fit into it perfectly.
it’s only when there’s a break that you notice her again. alexia is standing near the halfway line, talking to mapi and patri.
mapi says something that makes patri roll her eyes and alexia smiles… small, brief. then her eyes flick toward you again. and again, she looks away.
you frown slightly.
“what’s up with her today?” kika asks, following your gaze.
“who?”
“alexia.”
you shrug too fast. “no idea.”
salma finally looks up from the grass. “she’s always like that with you.”
“no she’s not.”
vicky raises an eyebrow. “she kind of is.”
you don’t like that answer, but you don’t say anything back.
instead, you jog back into position when the whistle goes again, pushing it out of your head like you always do when something doesn’t quite make sense.
by the time the match ends, you’re sweaty, tired, and back to normal. or mostly.
the dressing room is louder now.
music, laughter, someone complaining about a tackle, someone else stealing someone’s kit and getting chased for it.
you’re halfway through pulling off your boots when mapi leans over your bench.
“chiqui.”
you look up suspiciously. “what.”
she grins. “you coming tonight?”
“coming where.”
“don’t act innocent.”
you groan. “the celebration?”
“yes, the celebration, eres tonta?” she says like you’re slow. “we beat valencia.”
kika cheers from across the room. “we always beat valencia.”
“not like that,” mapi says. “this one was fun.”
you glance over instinctively.
alexia is already packing her bag.
calm. quiet. like she hasn’t just spent ninety minutes running the midfield into the ground. she catches your look for half a second. then looks away first. again.
your stomach does something you ignore immediately.
“yeah,” you say finally, turning back to mapi. “i’m coming.”
“good,” she says. “don’t disappear, chiquita.”
“i don’t disappear.”
“you literally hide behind vicky and kika all the time.”
“that’s called strategy.”
kika throws a sock at you. you catch it without looking.
the dressing room dissolves into more noise, more movement, more plans being made. and somewhere in the middle of it, alexia finishes zipping her bag.
she pauses, only for a second and her eyes land on you again.
this time you don’t look away immediately. you almost catch it. almost.
then vicky shoves you sideways and you laugh, losing it completely in the moment again.
when you look back up, alexia is gone. you don’t think much of it. not yet. it’s just another day. just another game. just another time she said your nickname like it meant nothing at all.
but later, when you’re getting ready for the night out, you’ll remember the way she looked at you in that one second.
like she was trying very hard not to.
⸻
the night feels like it’s been turned up too loud from the start.
music spilling out of the club, streetlights too bright, everyone still buzzing off the win like it’s something they can’t quite put down yet. shirts half tucked, hair messy, voices overlapping in a dozen different directions.
you stick close to vicky and kika at first, like always.
it’s easy that way.
safe in noise.
kika is already laughing about something mapi said earlier, vicky is arguing that she was clearly fouled at least seven times in training, and esmee is walking just ahead of you shaking her head like she’s the only sane one left in the world.
“you’re all insane,” esmee says.
“you love us,” vicky shoots back immediately.
“unfortunately.”
you grin, bumping into kika’s shoulder. “she means mostly me.”
“delusional,” kika says, but she’s laughing.
someone shouts your name from behind you- chiquita stretched out across the street like it’s a song- and you don’t even need to turn around to know it’s mapi.
you flip her off over your shoulder without looking. it earns you a cheer. somewhere in the mess of it all, you lose track of alexia.
you don’t notice when she stops being in your line of sight.
you only realise it later, when vicky is pulled away by aitana, clara gets dragged into a conversation with patri, and esmee wanders off with kika to get drinks.
suddenly it’s just you. standing slightly apart from the chaos. the noise feels louder without them buffering it.
you shift your weight, scanning the crowd without meaning to.
and then you see her.
alexia.
near the edge of the group, half in shadow under the club lights. hair looser than usual, not fully undone but not as controlled as it is at training. she’s laughing at something mapi says, head tilted back slightly, the kind of laugh you almost never see in daylight.
it catches you off guard.
you’ve seen her smile before. you’ve never really seen her like this. like she’s not holding herself together quite as tightly. her eyes flick across the crowd and land on you.
this time she doesn’t look away immediately.
she holds it. longer than she should.
your breath feels stuck somewhere it shouldn’t be.
then mapi bumps her shoulder, says something you can’t hear, and alexia blinks like she’s been pulled back into herself.
but she doesn’t fully let go of you. not yet.
you don’t move when she starts walking toward you. you probably should. you don’t.
she stops a step away, closer than she usually is. close enough that you can smell faint traces of perfume and alcohol and the night clinging to her skin.
“you’re quiet,” she says, her voice is softer than it is at training.
“i’m not.”
a small pause. then, almost like she’s deciding something mid-thought, she tilts her head slightly.
“you’re always with vicky and kika.”
you shrug. “they’re annoying. i keep them in check.”
that makes her smile properly. not the polite one from the game. something warmer.
“they keep you busy, then.”
“someone has to survive them.”
alexia hums like she’s considering that and there’s a beat where neither of you move. the music pulses behind you, distant but constant, like the world refusing to stop for this moment.
“are you enjoying tonight?” she asks. it’s such a simple question it almost throws you off.
“yeah,” you say. “are you?”
she hesitates just for a second too long, then nods. “si.”
but her eyes are still on you. like she’s not really answering the question she asked.
you swallow, suddenly aware of how close she is. how different she feels out here compared to training. less captain. more just… alexia. someone you’re not used to seeing without armour on.
“you’re not with them. it's bad to drink alone, you know.” she says quietly.
you glance past her shoulder. “they abandoned me.”
a soft breath leaves her like a laugh she doesn’t fully release. “tragic.”
“i know.”
that gets another smile out of her. and then, instead of stepping back like she normally would, she stays. your heart feels annoyingly loud in your chest.
“you’re eighteen now,” she says after a moment.
you frown slightly. “yeah. i was yesterday too. i have been for the past month now- hence the drink in hand.”
that makes her exhale through her nose, almost amused. “you know what i mean.”
there’s something in her tone that shifts the air between you. not heavy, just… different.
you don’t know what to say to that, so you don’t. instead, you just look at her. and she looks back. properly.
no looking away this time, no polite distance, just alexia. and for a second, it feels like the noise around you fades into something far away.
then someone shouts her name from across the club. she doesn’t move, not immediately. her eyes flick once toward the sound. then back to you- something in her expression tightens, like she’s arguing with herself.
you shouldn’t be here. that’s what it feels like she’s thinking. or maybe-
you shouldn’t be looking at her like that.
she finally steps back.just a little. enough to breathe again.
“they’re waiting for me,” she says.
“go then,” you reply, a bit too quickly.
she nods but doesn’t turn straight away. her gaze drops briefly to your face. then lifts again. like she’s memorising something she shouldn’t be memorising.
“you should go back to your friends,” she says.
“they’re not my parents.”
a small pause, then her mouth twitches.
“no,” she agrees softly. “they’re not.”
another beat, longer this time. and then she finally turns away. but not before you catch the way her hand curls slightly at her side, like she’s holding something in.
you watch her walk back into the crowd.
watched her disappear into the noise again like she never stepped out of it. only now, something has shifted.
and you can feel it sitting under your skin, quiet but undeniable. like the beginning of something neither of you have said out loud yet.
you don’t go back to vicky and kika immediately. you just stand there for a second longer than you should. thinking about the way she looked at you. and the way she didn’t look away.
⸻
a little while later you end up at the bar talking to a girl. she’s tall, easy smile, plays for another team. she leans in when she laughs, hand brushing your arm, complimenting the way you played against madrid two weeks ago, and your game tonight against valencia. it feels light. harmless. fun, even. you’re smiling at something she says when you feel it again- that heavy stare cutting through the crowd.
alexia.
she’s moving toward you now, jaw tight, eyes dark with alcohol and something sharper. she stops right beside you, shoulder brushing yours like she has every right.
“chiquita,” she says, voice low and edged. she doesn’t even glance at the other girl. “we need to talk.”
the girl raises an eyebrow. “everything okay?”
“it’s fine,” you start, but alexia’s hand is already wrapped around your wrist, grip warm and insistent.
“no. it’s not.”
she tugs you away from the bar, away from the girl who just shrugs and melts back into the crowd. the second you’re in the quieter hallway you yank your arm free, anger flashing hot.
“what the fuck, alexia? what was that?”
she pushes the bathroom door open, checks the stalls, then locks it behind you. the click sounds final. the music drops to a dull thump through the walls.
“you shouldn’t be talking to her, she looked about 6 years older than you,” she snaps, crowding you back against the sink counter.
“why? because you said so?” you laugh, sharp and bitter. “we barely talk. you keep your distance and call me chiquita like i’m a kid, and now you’re jealous? and trying to tell me who i can and can't talk to? who do you think you are?”
alexia exhales hard, hands landing on either side of you, caging you in. “i’m the person who can’t stop thinking about you. every single day. you’re bad for me, chiquita. too young. too close. and then i see her touching you like it’s nothing-”
“you don’t own me,” you fire back, but your voice wavers because she’s so close now, eyes blazing.
she kisses you instead.
it's hard, desperate, and slightly angry- but you arent sure if it's directed toward you or the girl.
her mouth crashes into yours, tongue sliding deep, one hand gripping your jaw while the other slides straight down into your jeans.
she pushes two fingers inside you without warning- slow but relentless, stretching you open deep and steady. you gasp into her mouth at the sudden burn, the fullness.
it hurts for a second, your body not used to it, but she doesn’t know. she’s too drunk, too jealous, too lost in the heat to notice how tight you are or how your breath catches.
“fuck,” she mutters against your neck, biting down as her fingers start moving. slow, deep thrusts, curling perfectly on every stroke. “you’re so wet already. so bad for me. making me lose control like this.”
you clutch her shoulders, legs trembling. the roughness of the stretch melts into heavy pleasure as her thumb finds your clit, circling slow and firm. every deep push drags against that spot inside you that makes your vision blur.
alexia keeps talking, voice low and rough between kisses and bites.
“you’re going to ruin me, chiquita. walking around looking like that. smiling at everyone. letting some girl flirt with you right in front of me. i shouldn’t want this. i shouldn’t want you.” she curls her fingers deeper, pressing hard, and you moan, hips rocking into her hand. “but i do. i fucking do. and it pisses me off.”
the pleasure builds thick and heavy, coiling low in your stomach. her free hand slides under your shirt, palming your breast, pinching your nipple while her fingers keep that devastating slow rhythm inside you. the bathroom mirror fogs slightly from your breathing. your thighs shake harder.
“alexia-” you gasp.
“that’s it, amor” she whispers, forehead against yours, eyes dark and hungry. “come on my fingers. show me how much you want this even though it’s wrong.”
you come hard, biting into her shoulder to muffle the cry, body pulsing around her fingers as the orgasm drags out. she doesn’t stop moving them right away- just keeps fucking you slow and deep through every aftershock until you’re whimpering, ovrsensitive and shaking.
only then does she ease her hand out, licking her fingers clean while staring at you.
“my place,” she says, voice still rough. “now.”
⸻
alexia doesn’t say much on the way to her place. the taxi ride is quiet except for the low hum of the city outside the windows and the occasional brush of her thigh against yours. her hand stays on your knee the whole time, thumb stroking slow circles like she’s still trying to convince herself this is real.
you don’t speak either. your body is still buzzing from the bathroom, legs a little shaky, and the reality of what’s about to happen sits heavy and exciting in your chest.
when you finally step inside her apartment the door barely clicks shut before she’s on you again.
she pushes you against the wall in the hallway, kissing you deep and messy, hands already tugging at your clothes. shirts hit the floor. jeans get kicked aside somewhere near the couch. by the time you reach her bedroom you’re both down to underwear, skin hot and flushed. alexia’s eyes are darker now, the alcohol still thick but the want burning sharper underneath.
she doesn’t give you time to think. she walks you backwards until your knees hit the edge of her big bed and pushes you down gently but firmly. you land on your back, heart hammering as she climbs over you, hair falling around her face like a curtain.
“been wanting to do this for so long,” she murmurs, voice low and rough. she kisses down your body slowly- collarbone, between your breasts, stomach, hips- like she’s savouring every inch.
when she reaches your thighs she spreads them wide, settling between them on her knees.
she looks up at you for a second, eyes locked on yours, something possessive flashing across her face. then her mouth is on you.
the first lick is slow and broad, dragging from your entrance up to your clit. you moan loudly, back arching off the bed. alexia groans against you like she’s the one being tasted, hands gripping your thighs tighter to hold you open. she licks into you again and again, slow and deep, tongue exploring every fold like she wants to memorise the way you taste.
“fuck, chiquita,” she mutters, voice vibrating against your sensitive skin. “you taste so good. so fucking sweet. been driving me crazy wondering what you’d feel like on my tongue.”
she seals her lips around your clit and sucks gently at first, then harder, alternating with slow, lazy circles of her tongue. your hands fly to her hair, fingers threading through the soft strands, hips rolling up into her mouth. every flick and suck sends sparks shooting up your spine. you’re still sensitive from the bathroom but she doesn’t care. she devours you like she’s starving.
alexia slides two fingers inside you without warning- slow, deep, curling perfectly on every thrust. the stretch is still intense but the way her mouth works your clit at the same time makes it feel incredible. wet sounds fill the room along with your broken moans and her low hums of approval.
“so tight,” she groans between licks, fingers pumping steadily. “you’re squeezing my fingers so good. bad for me, you know that? making me want to keep you like this. spread open on my bed. mine.”
she adds a third finger, stretching you wider, and you cry out, thighs trembling around her head. the fullness combined with her tongue on your clit is overwhelming.
she fucks you with her fingers in that same slow, deep rhythm she used in the bathroom- deliberate, like she wants you to feel every inch, every curl. her mouth never leaves your clit, sucking and licking in perfect sync.
“ale- dios mio.” your voice breaks.
she looks up at you again, eyes dark and hungry, lips shiny with your wetness. “that’s it. say my name. let me hear how much you need this. you were talking to that girl tonight and all i could think about was dragging you home and burying my face between your legs. no one else gets to have you like this. only me.”
her words hit hard, possessive and jealous and raw. she curls her fingers harder, pressing against that spot inside you while her tongue flicks fast over your clit. your hips jerk, a sob escaping your throat. the pleasure is building heavy and deep, coiling tight in your core.
alexia doesn’t let up. she fucks you with her fingers faster now but still deep, mouth working you relentlessly. one of her hands slides up your body to pinch your nipple, rolling it between her fingers while she sucks hard on your clit.
“come for me, chiquita,” she growls against you. “want to feel you come on my tongue. been thinking about this for months. you’re going to ruin me and i don’t even care anymore.”
you come hard, back bowing off the bed, a loud moan tearing from your throat. your walls clench around her fingers, pulsing as the orgasm crashes through you in waves. alexia moans into you, licking and fingering you through every second of it, drawing it out until you’re shaking and whimpering, oversensitive and breathless.
only when you start twitching away from her mouth does she ease her fingers out and crawl back up your body.
she kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on her tongue. her hand strokes your side gently, almost soothing, but her eyes are still dark with hunger.
“we’re not done,” she whispers against your lips, voice thick with promise. “not even close.”
⸻
alexia doesn’t give you much time to recover. she kisses you once more, slow and deep, then pulls back and sits up on her knees. her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with hunger.
she reaches over to the drawer and pulls out the harness. you watch, pulse racing, as she steps into it and tightens the straps around her hips. the thick silicone cock juts out heavy and intimidating between her legs.
she looks down at you, voice low and rough.
“is this okay?” she asks, brushing her thumb gently over your bottom lip. “we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”
you swallow hard, nerves and want twisting together in your stomach. you’ve come this far. you don’t want to stop now.
“i… i’ve never done this before,” you confess quietly, cheeks burning. “any of it. the bathroom was already my first time. i’m still a virgin.”
alexia freezes for a second, eyes widening. shock flickers across her face, quickly replaced by something deeper- a fierce wave of protectiveness, hunger, and raw possessiveness.
she leans down, cupping your face with both hands, kissing you slow and tender.
“fuck, y/n,” she breathes against your lips. “you should’ve told me earlier.”
“i wanted it,” you whisper. “i still want it. i want you.”
she searches your eyes carefully, thumb stroking your cheek.
“you’re sure?” she asks again, voice serious even through the alcohol haze. “this is a big deal. i need you to be completely sure.”
you nod, heart pounding. “i’m sure. please, alexia.”
she kisses you again, deeper this time, like she’s sealing a promise. when she pulls back her expression has shifted- determined, almost reverent.
“then i’m going to make this the best night of your life,” she murmurs, voice dropping into that low, filthy tone you’re starting to crave. “gonna take such good care of you. make sure you feel every single second.”
she guides you up gently until your face is level with the strap.
“get it ready for me, amor. nice and wet so i can fuck you properly.”
you lean forward and wrap your lips around the thick head, sucking slowly, tongue swirling around it. alexia groans deeply, fingers threading through your hair with gentle pressure.
“fuck, look at you,” she breathes, eyes locked on your mouth. “sucking my cock so pretty for your first time. no one else will ever see you like this. only me. you’re mine tonight, y/n. all fucking mine.”
you take more of it, bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks as you work it deeper, getting it slick with your saliva. alexia’s hips twitch forward slightly, but she keeps control, letting you set the pace while she praises you in that wrecked voice.
“good girl. just like that. so eager for me. been thinking about this for months. you have no idea what you do to me.”
the words send heat flooding through your body. you moan around the strap, the vibration pulling another deep groan from her.
after a few more moments she gently pulls you off, thumb wiping the corner of your mouth. “on your back, chiquita.”
you lie down, legs spreading for her instinctively. alexia settles between them, rubbing the thick, wet head of the strap against your soaked folds, teasing your clit until you’re whimpering and rolling your hips.
she leans over you, one arm braced beside your head, the other guiding the strap.
“last chance,” she whispers, forehead resting against yours. “you still want this? want me to be your first?”
“yes,” you breathe, desperate. “alexia, please.”
she kisses you softly, then lines herself up.
“i’ve got you,” she promises, voice thick with intent.
⸻
she pushes in slowly at first- careful, controlled, watching your face the entire time. the thick head stretches you open, inch by inch.
you gasp sharply at the intense burn and fullness, nails digging into her shoulders. it’s so much. alexia pauses, letting you adjust, pressing soft kisses along your jaw and neck.
“breathe, amor,” she murmurs. “you’re doing so good. taking me so well for your first time.”
once you relax a little she sinks deeper, bottoming out with a low groan. the feeling of being completely full is overwhelming- a perfect mix of pressure, stretch, and deep pleasure. alexia stays still for a moment, buried to the hilt, letting you feel every inch.
then she starts moving.
deep, powerful, rhythmic thrusts. not rushed, but intense. every stroke drags perfectly against that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. she angles her hips just right, grinding deep on every thrust, making sure the base of the strap presses against your clit.
“joder, you feel incredible,” she groans, voice wrecked. “so tight and wet for me. this pussy was made to take my cock. your first time and you’re taking it so well, m’so fucking proud of you, mi amor.”
the praise mixed with the filthy possessiveness makes your head spin. alexia fucks you with purpose- long, deep strokes that build and build, never letting the pleasure drop. one hand slides between you, fingers circling your clit in perfect time with her thrusts.
your moans get louder, legs wrapping tighter around her waist, heels digging into her back. every thrust pushes you higher, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter in your core. alexia leans down, biting your neck, sucking marks into your skin while she railsyou.
“no one else will ever have you like this,” she growls against your ear. “your first time is mine. your moans are mine. this pretty pussy coming on my cock for the first time is all mine. say it.”
“yours,” you gasp, voice breaking. “alexia- fuck, i’m yours.”
she fucks you harder, deeper, hips snapping with precision. the strap hits that perfect spot over and over while her fingers work your clit relentlessly. the pleasure becomes almost too much, white-hot and overwhelming, building into something massive.
“that’s it, bebe,” she pants, forehead pressed to yours, eyes locked on you. “let go for me. want to feel you come so hard on your first time. give it to me. come on my cock like a good girl.”
the orgasm hits you like a tidal wave.
your whole body seizes, back arching violently off the bed as the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt explodes through you. your walls clamp down hard around the thick strap, pulsing and fluttering as wave after wave crashes over you.
you cry out her name loud and broken, vision whiting out completely. it feels like it goes on forever- every muscle in your body shaking uncontrollably.
alexia keeps thrusting through it, deep and steady, drawing out every last pulse until you’re sobbing with overstimulation, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes.
only when you start twitching and whimpering does she slow down, grinding deep instead of thrusting, helping you ride out the aftershocks.
she kisses you through it- soft, sweet kisses on your lips, your cheeks, your eyelids, whispering praise the whole time.
“such a good girl, came so beautifully for me. you did so perfect for me, mi amor.”
you’re shaking, completely wrecked, clinging to her like she’s the only thing keeping you on earth. alexia stays buried deep inside you, holding you close as you come down, stroking your hair and murmuring soft words against your skin.
“you alright, bebe?” she whispers eventually, voice full of awe and affection.
you can barely speak. you just nod weakly, a dazed, blissed-out smile on your face.
alexia kisses your forehead, staying inside you, holding you like she never wants to let go.
⸻
alexia stays buried deep inside you for a long moment, holding you close as the last tremors run through your body.
you’re shaking, full-body, uncontrollable little tremors that won’t stop. your breathing is ragged, heart hammering against your ribs, legs still twitching around her waist.
she finally eases the strap out slowly, carefully, murmuring soft apologies when you whimper at the emptiness.
she quickly removes the harness and tosses it aside, then pulls you into her arms, skin against skin.
“i’ve got you,” she whispers, voice hoarse but gentle. “just breathe, chiqui.”
you’re still trembling against her, overwhelmed and exhausted. alexia reaches for the warm cloth she prepared earlier and gently wipes you down between your legs, movements slow and tender.
every touch is careful, like she’s handling something delicate. she cleans the mess from your thighs, your stomach, your folds, all while holding you close with her free arm.
“you okay?” she asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your damp forehead.
“yeah…” you mumble, voice barely there. “just… shaking. can’t stop.”
“that’s normal, especially for your first time,” she says softly, continuing to wipe you down. “you came really hard. let it happen. i’m right here.”
the room is quiet except for your uneven breathing and the soft sounds of the cloth. alexia finishes cleaning you and sets the cloth aside, pulling the blanket over both of you. she tucks you against her chest, one hand stroking slow, lazy circles on your back.
you stay pressed to her, still trembling lightly, face buried in her neck. after a while you manage a tired whisper.
“that was… a lot.”
alexia lets out a small, exhausted huff of laughter.
“yeah. it was.” she kisses the top of your head. “you were incredible though. took everything so well.”
you hum weakly, too drained to say much more. your body feels heavy, boneless, completely spent.
“didn’t know it could feel that good, i knew people said it was nice, but fuck,” you murmur after a long pause, words slurring a little from tiredness.
alexia’s hand keeps moving on your back, soothing.
“me neither… not like that,” she admits quietly. “not with anyone else.”
another long, comfortable silence stretches between you. both of you are exhausted- you especially, eyelids heavy, limbs shaky and weak. alexia reaches over blindly for the glass of water on the bedside table and helps you take a few small sips, holding your head up gently.
“good girl,” she praises softly when you drink.
you settle back against her with a content little sigh, still trembling faintly. alexia wraps both arms around you tighter, one leg thrown over yours, cocooning you completely.
“rest now,” she whispers against your hair. “i’ve got you.”
you nod sleepily, already drifting.
“stay…” you mumble.
“not going anywhere,” she promises, voice low and warm.
the two of you lie there tangled together, too tired for anything more than soft breathing and the occasional lazy stroke of her hand on your back. no big conversations.
no rushing to define anything. just the quiet, exhausted comfort of skin on skin and the steady beat of her heart under your cheek.
⸻
fin .