via

goddamn, i wanna undress you i wanna impress you ‧₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ⊹

‧₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ⊹ “You did really great out there,” Patri’s voice echoed in your head. 

An airy moan escaped your mouth as you moved your fingers hastily in a circular motion, pressed against the heat gathering between your thighs. Your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes shut hard as you repeated her voice in your head over and over, rubbing yourself faster as you remembered the smirk on her face as she said it. You bit your bottom lip hard, choking down the moans that threatened to escape your lips.

The tension inside your body wound tighter, muscles clenching with anticipation as your fingers moved faster, tracing the memory of Patri’s words from the past weeks, each one driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“You did so good today.”

“Stunning goal.”

“That’s my stargirl.”

And, just like that, you were coming undone, arching your back involuntarily, pressing your own core against your hands as you rode out your orgasm. You tried to bite your bottom lip, not wanting your roommate to hear the soft gasps and moans you couldn’t keep in.

As soon as you came off your high, you felt the shame quickly replace the pleasure in your body, feeling embarrassed of yourself, that you let yourself get off again to the thought of your captain, Patri Guijarro.

‧₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ⊹ There were a lot of reasons why you really pushed for the transfer to Barcelona.

There was the sporting aspect; Barcelona was the best club in women’s football now and they produced the best players in the world. Also, it was a club you’ve supported since you were young. The fact that you could live in one of the most beautiful cities in the world also was a great bonus. 

These were all the reasons you gave to your agent. The one major thing you forgot to mention was the fact that you just really wanted to play alongside Patri Guijarro. 

You’ve always admired Patri. 

Even before transferring to Barcelona, you always looked up to her, watching highlight clips of her online and trying your best to recreate her moves. So when the offer from Barcelona arrived, there had been no hesitation. You knew this was your one and only chance to play alongside her.

And you had no regrets. Barcelona was everything you hoped it would be and Patri was even better than you imagined.

She was a great teammate, and an even better captain, much to your surprise. 

 Patri was the kind of captain who made training feel lighter.She cracked jokes mid-drill, mimicked Pere's cadence and accent when he wasn't looking, turned sprints into silly competitions. That was not to say that she wasn’t strong and steady when it counted. 

As fun and silly as she could be, she was also incredibly capable and amazing. She guided the team without ever needing to raise her voice, and she made sure no one got left behind, especially the new girls. 

She kept nudging Pere to give you and the rest of the promoted La Masia players minutes, so you could all adjust to the style and pace of the team. And after every match you played, she pulled you aside for a quick, one-on-one session. She’d tell you what you did well, what you still needed to work on, and really go into specifics of how she’d help you improve. Considering that she knew that you were aiming to try out a defensive midfielder position at some point, she took extra time with you, even mapping out what kind of drills and practices you could do together during the next training session.

Patri was probably the best captain you'd ever had. She did it all with such grace and effortlessness.

Which was probably why no one noticed how much pressure she was carrying.

It was the first season without Alexia. The team had just won the UWCL and basically experienced a perfect season before watching not only their captain leave but also witnessing the departure of a bunch of key players. 

Now, what was left of the team was a handful of veterans and a wave of kids fresh off the academy and the B team. All of it the pressure weighed heaviest on Patri’s shoulders in her first year as first captain. 

‧₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ⊹ You could never get enough of getting praised by Patri.

You can still remember the first time you got a compliment from Patri. You were on the same team during a mock game. Ewa, who was on the other team, suddenly broke through everyone with the ball, pushing forward to score. But you slid in perfectly, tackling the ball away just in time, not letting her get past you. Patri immediately ran over, her eyes shining as she placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair.

"Good job, stargirl," she said softly, her voice warm and full of pride. "Do more of that, vale?"

After that moment, her praise fueled a hunger inside you. It started off tame. You felt a small flutter, a blush, totally normal feelings. But as time passed, that desire for validation turned into something more insatiable and unusual.

You obsessed over Patri’s compliments, shaping your actions around winning her approval. You mimicked the habits and plays your teammates used that got Patri's attention. You lingered after practice, volunteering to help clean and organize even when it wasn't your responsibility, just to earn a compliment from her. You pushed your body past its limits, chasing that rare, precious sound of her voice telling you you were doing well.

You rationalized to yourself that maybe it was because you idolized her, that you wanted to play like her and to be a better player for the team.

But that flimsy excuse stopped making sense when you sought her attention beyond the sport. The way she looked at you, the way her voice softened  whenever she spoke to you, the way her strong arms wrapped around you whenever she pulled you in for a hug — it lingered in your mind long after the games or training ended. You found yourself wanting to catch her attention off the pitch too.

So, you did a lot of other things to try and get more compliments. You worked extra hard on learning Spanish and Catalan just so she could tell you that you were learning fast, complimenting you in both languages.

You also started paying attention to how you presented yourself. Whenever there'd be a team hangout or dinner, you'd carefully choose the pieces that hugged your figure right or exposed the perfect amount of skin. You made sure you chose colors that both suited you and you knew Patri liked. After noticing Patri compliment Vicky on her mascara, you started wearing a bit more makeup, hoping she'd notice and say something.

It was slowly consuming every thought that you had but it was becoming an addiction that you just couldn’t help but give into.

‧₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ⊹ It was a team dinner when you first thought that this whole praise thing might have been getting to your head.

You dressed in a slightly revealing, body-hugging dress that complimented your body and showed off your best features. As soon as you walked in, a teammate teasingly let out a low whistle as the others paid you compliments but your attention was solely on Patri. When Patri saw you, her eyes widened and her lips curled into a smile.

"Oh guapa," she said, pressing a hand to her chest. "Almost gave me a heart attack there.

A blush crept to your cheeks, thanking her in Spanish before heading off to your table where you were to be seated with your other teammates. As soon as you sat, Sydney and Esmee looked over to you with giddy faces. "Looks like someone has a crush," Sydney teased, nudging you gently, only causing you to grow redder.

The two other international players widened their eyes and chuckled at the instant flushing of your cheeks, pulling Kika into the conversation to tease you.

Kika shook her head. "What did I tell you two?" Kika said, pointing a finger at both of them. "It's why she's always sticking behind after Spanish and Catalan class to ask for more pointers. She wants Patri to notice."

"Is that why you've been more intense during training as well?" Esmee asked you in disbelief. "I swear to God when I stopped your goal from coming in during training, it looked like you wanted to kill me for a moment."

The three laughed but you couldn't even defend yourself and deny it. 

But then again, there was no way you could deny it. Your every thought was tangled up with Patri, everything you did was to live up to her standard, to get that sweet praise from her. Anyone with eyes could see how much you exerted yourself lately in training just to get noticed by your captain.

‧₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ⊹ Eventually, all your hard work has also been noticed by Pere who felt confident enough to give you more minutes than you previously had. For the first time, you were starting a game against Atletico.

You were extremely hyped, feeling the adrenaline rush through your body. After being given this opportunity, you knew you just had to show Patri you were worthy of her attention and praise.

Unlike what everyone initially expected, the game was intense; it was fast, brutal and unrelenting as Atleti's forwards easily cut through your defense. Even if you were a bit rattled, you worked through it, silently dedicating each tackle and interception to Patri, feeling a sense of giddiness whenever you did something right, knowing that she would notice.

You pushed yourself harder. Your body screamed, lungs burning, quads already starting to ache, but you didn't stop or slow down. Every time you stopped an attack, every time you cleared the ball, you felt like you were working towards Patri's affection and respect on the pitch.

And then came the breakaway. Atlético's striker ran past you with the ball. Your breath caught as you tried to chase her down, feeling determined to win the ball back. In your haste, you lunged, moving as precisely as you could to get your foot to the ball but your timing was off and the sole of your boots caught her ankle hard. The sharp sound of impact and the sound that escaped her mouth was loud enough for the crowd to hear, followed instantly by the piercing blast of the referee's whistle.

Your stomach dropped. You stood frozen, staring at the player still on the ground as she writhed in pain, breath caught in your throat, knowing that you had majorly fucked up.

Your teammates were at your side in seconds and your heart dropped to your stomach once your eyes caught Patri, with her face a mixture of fury and fear.

She walked past you to stand behind Caro, who was now arguing with the referee, but for a moment Patri just stayed silent, jaw tight and clenched. Eventually, she joined in, arguing with the referee in rapid Spanish, voice shaking with passion. "¡No! Fue la pelota primero, por favor." She waved her hands around, gesturing desperately at the referee. "She got the ball! It was the ball. No es falta."

The referee shook her head, waving her hands to dismiss Patri and Caro as she raised the red card. Patri exhaled hard through her nose, patted Caro on the back as if to tell her to leave it be, and turned away before her expression could slip any further. Some of your teammates tried to talk to the referee while the others gathered around the injured player.

Patri's eyes snapped to you, and the look she gave you was worse than any sort of punishment. It was just pure, crushing disappointment.

"Why would you risk it like that?" she walked up to you and asked firmly, the pain and frustration in her voice completely audible. It was such a stark difference from the happy, easy-going captain you knew. She shook her head as her eyes stayed firmly planted on you. “Did you not think that through?”

You swallowed hard, cheeks burning, tears threatening to spill. "I… I just wanted to stop her. I didn't mean to…" Your voice broke, starting to feel the shame in your actions.

Patri placed a hand behind your back, supposedly to calm you but you could tell that the captain was upset with you as she walked you back to the bench. Her hand wasn't quite steady.

Patri lowered her voice so that no one nearby could hear but it remained firm. "You can't just act so… stupid on the pitch. You need to be precise. Más inteligente." She paused before looking at you, brown eyes staring serious daggers into yours. 

The volume of her voice increased a bit. "And I have had enough of this show-off nonsense, okay? This is not the time and place to want the spotlight, yeah? This game, this sport isn't just about you. It’s about all of us.” Her voice cracked slightly on the last word, like she was reminding herself as much as you. “Got that?”

You gulped and bit your lip.

“I asked you if you understood,” Patri said before frustratedly pressing her lips together, lips forming a tight line.

“Yes, yes, I understood,” you said, nodding, voice meek and soft.

Patri gave you two pats on the shoulder before running back to the injured player who was being attended to now by the medics. You returned to the bench, already feeling your shoulders slump and the tears well up in your eyes, lips quivering as you held back the tears.

Pere and your teammates tried talking to you but all of it fell upon deaf ears. You couldn't focus on anything after what Patri said. You wanted to disappear, to sink into the earth and never be seen again.

‧₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ⊹ Thankfully, despite your mistake and the initial struggle, the team still won thanks to Pina's clutch goal at the 87th minute. You couldn't celebrate at all or even fully appreciate Pina's goal when you were still completely riddled with shame and regret.

Aitana saw you staring blankly, sitting all alone on one of the benches on the more empty area of the dressing room. "Hey, chica," she said, patting you on the back. "Don't be too hard on yourself. It's okay."

You looked up to her and gave her a meek smile but even Aitana could see that the smile didn't reach your eyes.

"It's just a mistake. It happens to everyone." She comforted, nodding at you. "Okay?"

"Yeah…" you said but didn't mean it a bit. Even if all your teammates had been supportive, talking you out of your gloomy state, you still couldn't shake it off.

All you could think about was the look on Patri's face at that moment: the disappointment, the frustration, and the animosity she had for you at that moment. What hurt most was that she called you a show-off and implied that you were selfish, as if you were trying to do all of it for yourself or for attention. She didn't get that everything you were doing was for her.

‧₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ⊹ As Patri walked into the locker room, after talking to the other team’s injured player and apologizing on your behalf, Aitana immediately approached her. "Hey, Patri." Aitana said. "You should really  talk to YN."

Caro overheard as she was changing. "Yeah, I saw her when I walked in," she interjected as she slipped on a shirt. “She looked like those stray kittens abandoned in the rain.”

Kika stepped closer. "I tried talking to her but she had a distant look." She added. "She's not doing okay."

Aitana nodded. "Yeah, you should talk to her. I don’t want this incident to ruin her morale for the rest of the season.

Patri paused, trying to look at you from across the locker room, sighing as she saw you sat and bent over, head in your hands. She bit her lip, feeling even more guilty now hearing what everyone had to say and seeing you all upset.

Barely halfway through the season, Patri thought to herself. And I’m already fucking up being a captain.

She let out a sigh, shaking off her doubt.  "Was what I said that bad?" She asked, rubbing the back of her neck.

Caro and Aitana looked at each other, as if waiting for one of them to say something. 

“To me, it wasn’t that bad,” Aitana said with a small shrug. “I mean, from what I heard, it just sounded a bit heated.”

Caro nodded in agreement. “Yeah but honestly, I think that girl cares too much about what you think so what you said to her might sound fine to me or anyone else but to her, it was…” she trailed off, unsure how to finish it. She sighed. “It might just have been too much for her to hear from her idol.”

Patri sighed, shaking her head. "Yeah, okay, I'll talk to her.." She said before looking at the girls. "Thanks for letting me know."

They all nodded and went back to getting ready. Patri headed to her locker but as she made her way, she kept a subtle eye on you. You were just sitting there, still in your uniform, towel resting across your shoulders.

Was it really that serious for her, Patri thought to herself, before shaking her head. She had enough weighing on her already — the armband felt heavier some days than she let on, and tonight had been one of those days. 

‧₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ⊹ It took you a while to process what happened and how you felt about it and by the time that you were ready for your shower, everyone had left.

Vicky, Kika, and Esmee had asked if you wanted to check out this one café with them but you just waved them off. Irene asked if you wanted to chat but you told her that it was best you think things through alone. Even Aitana – who was usually the first person out of the locker room – stayed a bit longer and even asked you if you wanted to grab dinner with her, to cool off and indulge in food your team nutritionist wouldn't approve of, but you just didn't feel like you deserved that right now.

To you, everyone in the team could try to comfort you but only one person's validation and comfort mattered. You sighed, taking off your shirt and throwing it into the bin before heading into the showers.

The air was already foggy from everyone who showered before but you didn't mind that much. At least now, it was just you and your thoughts. You opened the shower head, letting the warm water rinse through you. You prayed that all your doubts and negative thoughts could be washed away into the drain.

You didn't expect it to happen but you suddenly felt tears sting your eyes. Perhaps, a while ago, while everyone was there, you had just been holding the tears in, not wanting to look overly dramatic. But now that you were alone, the tears just came.

You let the water run through your face, mixing into your tears as it did, hoping that you could get past this. 

You wished that after the game, you had the guts to say something to Patri, to apologize and tell her that you really fucked up and that you were willing to take accountability for it, that you were still going to try and improve and put the team’s interest before yours. But when you caught sight of Patri entering the locker room, you just had to keep your head low and stop yourself from completely breaking down.

You wiped the water and tears off of your eyes, sighing and deciding that you were going to quit moping about it and start working on how you could gain Patri’s trust back.

‧₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ⊹ Patri massaged her temples as she walked back into the locker room.

Before she could even change out of her uniform, Pere called her over to talk through what had happened and how they'd handle it. By the time the conversation wound down, everyone else was gone, and all she wanted was a shower and to get back to her place to sleep the stress off..

She took off her clothes, tossed it in the bin, and slung her towel over her shoulder. Pulling her hair out of its ponytail, she ran her fingers through it as she walked toward the shower room. The closer she headed towards it, the more she heard the sound of someone talking. At first, she thought that maybe some of the girls stayed longer and were having a conversation in the shower area, which was not an uncommon occurrence, but then she realized there was only one voice that she could hear.

She slowed, stepping quietly into the shower room and her thoughts were confirmed as she saw that only one shower was running. 

"Patri, I'm really sorry that…" The voice continued rambling in a soft tone. Patri blinked, surprised. It was you, rehearsing what you were going to say to her.

Patri huffed out a quiet laugh, a small smile tugging at her mouth as her brows knit together.  Fuck, she really isn’t taking this well, she thought to herself as she moved towards your shower.

It didn’t take you too long to feel her presence behind you. You stopped talking and turned around quickly and instinctively covering yourself with your hands, nearly slipping on the now soapy floor as you did. Patri held her arms out too, also out of reflex, just in case you slipped. 

“Patri!” You exclaimed and felt your cheeks flush as you realized you practically shouted her name, your voice echoing slightly. “Sorry, I – uh…”

Your eyes couldn’t help but make a quick glance at her, growing hyperaware of the fact that you two were completely naked.

You’d seen practically everyone in the team topless before, most even completely nude, but when it came to Patri, you were always too flustered to even look at her direction whenever she was changing or heading to the showers. 

So, to see her now, completely bare in front of you, you didn't know where to look or how to feel.

You fumbled, mumbling apologies that didn't quite form into full sentences, your hands still wrapped around yourself just to hide your nakedness  "I'm really sorry, I was thinking about what to say to you and uh — I guess I'm sorry for earlier, and now this is just — it's awkward now, but never mind that, I should be apologizing for what I actually did, not…" You couldn't stop rambling even as you heard yourself sounding like a complete idiot, heat rushing to your face.

Patri had stopped listening somewhere in the middle of that. Her eyes had drifted,  taking you in without quite meaning to, brows lifting slightly at the sight of you. She'd seen you in towels and sports bras and everything but never quite like this. She caught herself staring and looked away almost too fast, clearing her throat.

"It’s okay," Her voice came out steadier than she felt, the captain in her stepping forward to cover her lapse of judgement just then. "It's fine, YN. Forget it. I shouldn't have said all that out there in front of everyone.” 

She nodded. “I got caught up in the moment and it was wrong for me to reprimand you that way,” she said. “You're still a good player. You made a mistake and it was a bad one but I can see that you internalized that already. So… just learn from this; I don’t want this to get to your head and affect your performance for the rest of the season.”

You nodded your head before she even finished. "No, I get it. I deserved to be reprimanded. I made a mistake and I really am so sorry.” You hesitated to say what you’ve been thinking about while you were formulating your apology a while ago. "But I have to say that you did get one thing wrong.”

Patri didn’t look offended. She just tilted her head and looked at you curiously.

You bit your lip before you continued. “I wasn't doing what I did to get attention or to prove anything to the fans, or Pere, or anyone else out there,” you said, tone softer. “I was just trying my best because  I didn't want to let you down. You were the one who fought to get me minutes and to get me my start today. I wanted to be good enough for that… for you."

Neither of you said anything for a moment, just standing there, holding eye contact a little too deliberately, like looking away first would mean admitting where your eyes actually wanted to go. You blinked and used it as an excuse to glance down.

"I think I've just been too fixated on wanting to impress you," you admitted, eyes returning to her eyes.

Patri’s expression shifted. It wasn’t just her face that changed. It was as if her muscles unclenched, as if taken aback but also a bit relieved. She exhaled a heavy breath before nodding and running a hand through her hair. She released a chuckle.

“That,” Patri responded, “means a lot to me. Seriously.”

You nodded. Again, silence fell upon the two of you. All you could hear was the sound of the shower and your own heartbeat. 

Patri’s expression turned more playful as she looked up to your face again. "Is it weird if I say I'm impressed by what I'm seeing right now?" The words came out light and joking but something about it made your stomach flip.

Your face went warm again. You bit down on your lip, unsure if you were supposed to laugh at the comment or say something back. Suddenly, feeling a bit more self-conscious once more.

Patri seemed to catch herself a beat too late. She let out a short laugh and shook her head, like she wanted to undo it. "Sorry, that's… that was a fucked-up thing for me to say." She dragged a hand through her hair. "I'm your captain, I shouldn't be saying stuff like that to you. I think the stress is just getting to me. I'm losing my mind and composure a little."

She laughed once more but straightened her face again before meeting your eyes. "Yeah, no. I shouldn’t be making excuses. I just shouldn't have said it."

You bit your lip and nodded. It felt like Patri trying to take the comment back only made things worse; it made it impossible to pretend you hadn't understood exactly what she meant by it.

"It's okay," you said quietly. Your eyes hadn't left hers. Your hands started to loosen around you, not covering yourself up so much.

"I told you," you said, voice lower than you meant it to come out, "I always want to impress you."

Patri didn't move, but something in her went very still. She could feel the tension and energy in the room shift. Suddenly, she was aware of your warmth, the feeling of the fog that swirled in the bathroom, the breath she had been holding.

She smiled and looked like she was about to say something to lighten the mood but her mind failed her. She cleared her throat and she looked away, hand adjusting the towel on her shoulder.

You bit your lip. This was your chance, and it might be the only chance you’d ever get. "Maybe," you said, taking a step as you dropped your hand to your sides now. "I can impress you a little more."

Patri met your eyes again. You hesitated for a moment but ultimately thought fuck it. You moved closer to her, wet hands cupping her face as you gathered up all your confidence as you closed the distance.

You placed your lips onto Patri’s gently, as if testing the waters. You closed your eyes, feeling the softness of her lips against yours, the warmth of it emanating to you as you did. When you pulled away, you realized that Patri’s eyes were still open, pupils blown wide and expression surprised.

Your heart started beating faster, feeling a sudden rush of regret pass through you, but before you could even fully process it, Patri was stepping towards you.

It happened so quickly. Her towel dropped from her shoulder to the floor as she closed the distance between you, hands on your body, lips on yours. The floor was slippery but you didn’t worry too much because her hands were gripping you firmly as she pressed you against the shower wall.

Your hands wrapped around Patri as you did, feeling the water from the shower trickle on her back now as she pressed you against the wall. She kissed with an almost desperate intensity, as if she was letting out all her frustrations on you.

A moan escaped your lips as you felt her tongue enter your mouth, effortlessly moving with yours. Her hands gripped tighter as she felt your moan vibrate against her lips. 

Patri moved from your lips to your jaw, tongue licking along the shape of it before wrapping her mouth around the space between it and your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You moaned, holding her closer to you.

As she kissed your neck, her hands began to wander from your waist to your hips and to your ass, moving fluidly through your skin. You inhaled sharply as you felt one of her hands in between your thighs, parting your legs, adjusting your stance so she could slot herself in between you.

You pushed her lightly.

Patri looked at you with eyebrows raised, unsure why you were stopping her.  You bit your lip. “I…” You cleared your throat, urging yourself to speak louder. “I want to be the one to please you.”

Patri’s brows furrowed but she released a small laugh. “C’mon, chica, just let me—”

You shook your head. “Please,” you said in a soft pleading voice. “I really want to show you what I can do for you. Please.”

Patri’s lips curled into that smirk you knew all too well, the same smirk that always made you feel a little warmer inside. She straightened up, hands detaching itself from you, running one of them through her now-damp hair.

She paused before reaching for your face, thumb brushing your cheek as she looked into your eyes. “You really want to?”

You nodded eagerly, eyes wide as if pleading to her.

The older girl smirked. “How could I say no to that face?” She said softly, thumb now brushing your bottom lip, feeling your plush lips against her thumb. “Okay, star girl. Impress your captain.”

You didn’t hesitate. You moved towards her, hand on the back of her neck, pulling her closer to you as you captured her lips once more. You both shifted so that it was Patri who was closer to the wall, lips never leaving each other as you did.

You moved your lips to her jaw then to her neck, planting kisses all over her as you slowly descended in front of her, feeling the shower once more against your head and back. 

Then, you were on your knees, feeling the cold tiles press beneath you as you lowered to the level of Patri’s core. She cursed under her breath, feeling herself get wetter at the sight of you, naked and all-too-eager on your knees for her.

You kept eye contact with the Barcelona captain as you moved closer. Patri cupped your face once more, smiling before moving her hand from your face to her core, using her fingers to delicately spread herself apart before you.

You nearly moaned as you saw her open herself before you, feeling your own core warm up as you caught a whiff of Patri’s faint musk. You gulped, shifting a bit as you moved your head closer towards her.

You opened your mouth, tongue slightly out, capturing Patri’s clit with your it, wrapping your lips around the throbbing bud. Patri  groaned as she felt it, closing her eyes and tilting her head back, hand holding the back of your head.

You took that as a sign to proceed, rounding your mouth around her before doing consistent pulses of suction. The older girl moaned, her other hand finding the back of your head, pushing you closer into her.

You moaned, sending a vibration across Patri’s  body. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy the moment and to not overthink your actions. This was all you’ve wanted since you realized that you had a crush on Patri. You fantasized endlessly about pleasuring her, doing everything to get her praise.

And now this was your chance to do it.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Patri moaned, voice a bit tight. “Keep eating me out.”

You could feel your own wetness pool around your core as you heard Patri’s praise, urging you to do even better. You pressed your tongue around your captain’s clit, moving your head to guide your tongue, drawing circles into her. You kept your hands firm against her legs, holding yourself steady as you moved your face further into her core, really burying yourself into her. 

You kept your eyes closed and focused on Patri – the feeling of her warmth and her sweet nectar coating your mouth and chin as you continued to lick and suck on her folds, the firmness of her hands on the back of your head as she guided you closer to her, the sound of her low moans and grunts as you picked up the pace, really wanting to hear more of her.

“Yeah, keep doing that,” Patri moaned. “You’re doing really well.”

You practically moaned against her clit as she said it, holding your head firm against her. You focused on licking her, moving in vertical stripes, starting from just below her clit upwards, tongue grazing the sensitive part of her clit every time you did. The older girl grinded her lips towards your face, both hands on the back of your head and her back pressed against the wall to support her weight.

Then, you pointed your tongue, using the tip of it to draw smaller circles around a specific part of her clit, moving around it until you grazed the spot that garnered the loudest moan and the biggest reaction from her. You focused on it, pressing the tip of your tongue against it, alternating between flicking and drawing circles.

Soon, you could feel Patri’s strong thighs tense and clench under your hands and the feeling of her grip on your head tightened, pulling you impossibly close. You took your tongue off her and parted your lips, now capturing her clit in your mouth, alternating between sucking and licking her. 

Patri’s moan came out a bit strained, using her other hand to hold onto the shower faucet for some semblance of balance as she neared her climax. Her other hand stayed behind your head, pressing you firmly against her.

Her muscles clenched even more, thighs firmer against your hands, until she moaned out loud and her muscles relaxed. Patri twitched a bit under you as she rode out her orgasm, gyrating herself slowly against your face for a bit more before guiding your head away from her core, a string of wetness forming between you and her before breaking as you moved farther.

Patri glanced down at you, eyes dark and heavy. She bit her lip and smirked. “Good job, stargirl.”

She held your hand, pulling slightly as if to direct you to stand up. Carefully, you stood and used Patri’s hand as a way to balance yourself. As soon as you stood up, Patri was wrapping her arms around you, guiding your body to turn your back against her.

Now, you were facing the wall with Patri’s hand on your breast and her lips on your neck, kissing you from behind. “Since you did so well,”  Patri whispered in your ear before taking your lobe in between her lips, nipping at it slightly. “I think it’s just fair that I reward you.”

You moaned as you felt Patri’s lips against you, more aggressively this time, nipping and biting your neck as her hand continued to fondle your chest. Her other hand slowly made its way from your waist to your core, slotting it in between your legs, pushing them apart to expose yourself to her touch.

You bent over slightly, gripping the walls with your hands to keep yourself stable as Patri adjusted your position to be slightly bent over.

You moaned as soon as her fingers found your core, using two fingers to press against your throbbing clit. She began to rub wide and firm circles, mouth still attached to your neck, biting against your soft flesh.

You arched your back closer to her, bending forward as she continued to rub faster against you. Her other hand went from massaging your breast to now pinching your nipple, rolling it in between her fingers.

“Patri,” You moaned out as she switched to flicking her fingers against your clit, hitting the most sensitive part of it as she did. “Fuck.”

Her mouth was warm against your ear. “Quiet down, chica. Wouldn’t want anyone to find us,” she whispered into it.

You bit your lip, trying to hold down your moans. Patri’s hand left your clit, moving swiftly behind you now. She used her other hand to support your weight as she angled you in such a way that would allow easy entry for her.

You gasped loudly as you felt her fingers tease your entrance from behind, nudging slightly and letting your wetness coat the tips of it before fully entering. Her other hand clutched you, keeping you steady and close to her as she started to thrust into you. First, moving with a slow and steady pace as if to test out your reaction before increasing her speed and intensity, pumping in and out of you.

As Patri pushed forward, hitting the most sensitive spot inside you, you could not help out but moan so loud that your voice practically echoed. Patri tutted her tongue before moving her hand from around your waist to cupping against your mouth, holding it firmly so that no noise would escape.

“Now you can moan as much as you want,” she said as she continued to pound her fingers against you.

You moaned into her hand as you felt Patri finger you, curling each time she thrusted in, pressing firmly each time against your sensitive spot. Your fingers desperately clung onto the shower walls as you felt yourself grow weaker, knees shaking with pleasure.

Soon, Patri could feel your loud moans vibrate into her hand. Your walls clenched around her fingers. She smiled at the tight sensation, thrusting into you even faster and harder. You were glad that Patri’s hand was on your mouth or else the staff would have definitely heard the obscene and almost pornographic sounds escaping your mouth now.

“Come on, star girl,” Patri ordered into your ear. “Cum for me.”

You nodded. You almost buckled over as Patri practically slammed her fingers into you, eager to get you to that climax. Soon, you could feel your knees shake even more and your muscles clench as you inched closer and closer to your orgasm.

Then finally, the waves of pleasure came, all your muscles unclenching. Patri’s hand moved from your mouth back to your waist, making sure you wouldn’t lose balance. After a couple more thrust to help you ride out your orgasm, she pulled out her fingers.

She moved them to your face, presenting them to your lips, urging you to suck on them. You wrapped your mouth around her fingers, closing around them, letting the older girl push it further into your mouth. She thrusted them a bit into you, enjoying the feeling of your warm mouth around her. As she pulled them out, you heard her chuckle a little. “You’re such a good girl.”

You straightened up and breathed deeply, trying to catch your breath. Your captain kept an arm around your waist, just to help you steady yourself. Once your brain was less scrambled from what just happened, you looked at Patri who was giving you a smirk. 

“Consider that red card forgiven,” she said with a teasing tone. “But I don’t want you getting more red cards in the future just to get my attention.”

You nodded. “Of course not,” you reassured her immediately. “I wouldn’t do anything to upset you again.

Patri looked pleased with your response, eyes scanning your face. She smiled as she cupped your face before pulling you towards her for another kiss, pulling you in for another kiss. 

“That’s my stargirl.”

a/n: anyway, just thought i'd post something while everyone is waiting for the Only We Know, Princesa, and With Love Alexia updates ack i promise i'll find time to work on those

During interviews with reports or locker room conversations, you and Alexia always stood your ground: you two would never get involved with a teammate. You'd never let any form of attraction stand in the way of professionalism, both on and off the pitch. You would never blur the invisible lines you had set.

You were both too dedicated, too focused, too professional for that kind of distraction, right? 

Alexia was captain, and you, though not wearing the armband, were a veteran, deeply and well respected by the club for your history, mainly for choosing to come back after a few years abroad.

And yet, here you were, a year and a half into an arrangement that would probably send Lacan into a coma if he tried to psychoanalyse it –  all that suppression of desire, the carefully constructed distance when you were around other people, all those unspoken rules about when it was acceptable to want each other and when it wasn't. When you could touch, or kiss or fuck. When it was okay to need Alexia, when it was okay to feel needed by her.

Your unconscious was your worst enemy. It needed Alexia all the time. So you shut it up at the gym, at home devouring book after book, at random bars looking for girls that looked like Alexia.

Your agreement centred around sex. You both had agreed it would only happen after big wins. 

That was the deal, as idiotic as it sounded for adults who had a significantly high sex drive and who wanted each other badly half the time. You had even sat down to discuss what would be considered "big wins", treating it like a business conversation.  You settled "big wins" on "significant victories", meaning league titles, cup finals, semifinals, crucial matches like El clásico, etc. 

After all those months of great sex, you were now properly conditioned. A Pavlov dog.

Wins equalled reward. Reward equalled Alexia in your bed, or you in hers, her wet mouth trailing up and down your body while your fingers explored her every inch. 

May had been a very, very busy month; three domestic trophies hinted at a lot of sex. And by that you meant A lot ... hours! 

All that built-up suppression meant you spent entire nights tangled together in each other, only taking breaks to keep your body functioning enough to keep going for more. You only ever stop if one of you fell asleep, or if the sun was up.

May 23rd was a different day, though. Barça had just won the Champions League.  ;) 

May was indeed an amazing month.

The private bar in the southern district of Oslo was packed with your teammates, their families, partners, friends and the coaching staff. The music was loud, maybe a bit too loud for your ears,  and the drinks were flowing freely, spilling onto expensive shoes, as people enjoyed themselves in the open bar. 

Everybody was riding the high of being crowned Champions of Europe, even the ones who hadn't even stepped onto the pitch. Case in point? Kika's mom. She was currently the unequivocal queen of the dance floor.

The vibe was entirely gregarious, thrilling, something that you couldn't quite pin down with a single word. You tried to find the vocabulary for it while sitting in a quieter corner of the room, the glass of the one single piña colada you had allowed yourself cooling the palm of your hand. 

One drink was just enough to take the edge off, enough to make your skin feel warm and your thoughts just a bit hazy, dangerously hazy, perhaps. The bits of alcohol relaxed you, your shoulders dropped, your brain slowed your thoughts, and a smile came to your face a little more easily. 

Reaching for something in the distance

So close you can almost taste it

Release your inhibitions

The lyrics faded out around you, only for the next song to start:

Want more and more, people just want more and more

Freed from desire

Mind and senses purified

Those were just a couple of the songs that had played over the ten minutes you had been sitting there. Their lyrics were a tad too ironic given your current situation. Or perhaps, it was just one of those things where mundane occurrences felt severely personal, your brain desperately searching for clues to validate your thoughts, emotions, and action… bla bla bla. You had long forgotten the specifics of that uni class you took on human behaviour and cognitive dissonance back in the US.

Right now, you were trying to use that mechanism to validate your feelings about Alexia, taking any song as a sign from the universe that it wants Alexia to be between your legs soon enough.

Alcohol – or maybe just the high of the win – made you hyperaware of her. You could sense her across the room, watch the way her lips moved as she talked to her friend Miriam.

Your silly, tipsy brain actually thought it could decipher every word coming out of her mouth, shaping them into sentences that stroke your ego. You wanted her to be talking to Miriam about you. So, your mind simply invented that reality. Things were easy when you were buzzed; everything was far too simple, rules were negotiable, and your need for Alexia felt entirely merited and legitimate.

See? cognitive dissonance. It was one of your finest hobbies lately. 

You watch Alexia, observe her as she moved around. 

The captain was in full extroverted mode; it was the version of her that only emerged after major titles. She was dancing with Vicky now, laughing and taking pictures with Patri. 

She had a drink in hand, one you knew for a fact would be far too sweet, with a fake-strawberry flavour. You would taste it on your lips later tonight, you were sure.

 During celebrations, Alexia drank just enough to get tipsy, too, but unlike you, her tolerance could handle more than a single, miserable drink. She would have four, maybe five max, before switching to virgin drinks.

A bad bunny song started, and Alexia tracked down that goddam trophy, which had been her sole fascination for the last three hours, and began dancing with it in her hand, her jeans hugging the perfect shape of her ass.

She was a stark contrast to her usual quiet, shy, introverted self. This version wasn't necessarily better or worse; it was just different. She was still Ale, and you, as much as you tried to fight it, were still hopelessly you.

And this version was the only Alexia you had ever slept with. The high-adrenaline, post-victory, almost but not quite drunk Alexia, who was loose, and confident, and commanding in a way that made your stomach flip with butterflies.

You had never had her on a random Friday after training, you painfully realised. You had never seen what she was like when the adrenaline wasn't pumping in her veins, when the victory wasn't so fresh and raw, when she was just... herself.

You wondered if the sex would be different. Would it be softer, maybe? Less intense and emotionally charged? Would she be equally warm and fervent?

Or would she be exactly the same, because sex with Alexia was never just sex. For her, it was a very complex game, a way to open somebody up. Alexia was almost clinical in her precision, almost obsessive in her attention to detail.

While you viewed sex as a means to an end, a way to get off, to give someone an orgasm, to feel good and make someone else feel good, Alexia treated it like a dance. A deep involvement, an act she took her absolute time with.

She always kissed every bit of your skin. Always listened to every sound, and learned your body like it was a mystery she needed to solve. And god, you wanted her to take her time with you tonight.

"You are sooo nonchalant about her." 

You jerked your attention away from Alexia to find Kika standing beside you,  a knowing smirk on her face. One that scared you. "Ahn? What? What are you talking about?"

Kika took a sip of her artificial pink drink, gesturing with her chin toward the captain, "You are staring at Miss Catalunya right there."

"I'm not staring," you said, taking a sip of your own drink to cover. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm just resting–"

"You absolutely are." Kika slid into the seat next to you without an invitation; her eyes were twinkling with mischief. "You have been staring at her for the past ten minutes."

"I'm just… people-watching, okay?" you countered. "And you must be staring at me if you know exactly how long I've been sitting here–"

"And does this people-watching always involve looking at Alexia like you want to rip her clothes off with your teeth, or–"

"Kika," you warned, your voice dropping low. "I'm serious! Stop acting silly. There's nothing like that between us, you know that. We are friends! Colleagues even!"

Lying was so easy at this point; your only real problem was that you were not nearly as convincing as needed to be.

The Portuguese held up her hand, laughing teasingly at your grumpiness. "Calma! I'm just saying… You two have been acting weird for months. Don't think the rest of us haven't noticed, we have eyes everywhere." [calm down]

Your stomach dropped. You could feel the hollow organ actually fall all slimy to your feet. "W-we have not, I–"

"You have, though, and everyone's noticed. Well… mostly the younger girls and me, but still." She leaned in conspiratorially; her voice was low, meant for your ears only, but it was hard to understand her over the loud music. "Something's going on. I know it. I can literally sense the love in the air every time you two are in the same room."

"Nothing's going on between me and Ale" you said firmly, even as your heart rate picked up. "And there is definitely no love involved either!"

Maybe there was love. Maybe. Just a tiny bit. But it was small, the size of a fly. You could step into it, and it would go away.

"Okaaaay, sure," Kika said, but didn't sound convinced at all. You couldn't blame her. 

"But just so you know, if something were going on, I think it's cute, tá bom? You two would be great together…You know," Kika began narrating everything as if it were a story in a book and not your life she was talking about. "The two legendary Barça players who had known each other for an eternity, who won every single trophy in existence side by side! It's more romantic than Romeo and Juliet, if you ask me! Oh… I just hope you both get a better ending." Then her excited face dramatically dropped into a sad pout.

Before you could respond, before your brain could even figure out what the hell to even say to that, Kika was already standing up, patting your shoulder affectionately, and wandering off to join the dance floor.

You drained the rest of your piña colada in one long gulp. You needed air. So much air, more air than this bar could provide and more than your lungs could take in.

The bar was getting too warm, too crowded, too much. Kika was entirely responsible for tangling your neurons together, leaving you unable to think properly. And no, the pina colada had nothing to do with it, nor did the heating pooling low in your belly from your desperate need for Alexia.  

You slipped outside to the small patio area, where the night air was cool and crisp and exactly what you needed. You almost wished it would rain, that a downpour would just wash over you. You were never one for dramatics, but tonight felt like the perfect time to start.

The team had been noticing.

But noticing what, exactly? 

You and Alexia had been friends for years, more than ten. You had never seen each other as anything other than friends, and truth be told, you hadn't even been that close. 

You had lost contact a few years ago when you moved to play for Orlando Pride. It was only two years ago that you signed back with the club of your life. Alexia had been dating someone else at the time, so she was completely off limits.

Still, you couldn't help but notice how she had grown into such a beautiful woman. She was just a couple of years older than you, but she always carried a bit of a baby face; now, at thirty-two, she had fully grown into her features.

It was after she tore her ACL that things changed, that massive injury and the long pause from football seemed to be when she lost the last trace of that girlhood softness. She was different now. Or maybe your eyes were just different. 

Then she broke up with her girlfriend, and that's when it happened.

You had been out there for maybe ten minutes when the door creaked open behind you. You didn't need to turn around to know who it was; that strawberry scent from her drink mixed with her honey shampoo made it clear.

"Are we hiding now?" Alexia's voice was warm and amused. "I was looking for you, but you were gone."

"I just needed a break," you said, still facing away from her. "Too loud in there, no?"

You heard her footsteps, feeling her presence as she came to stand right beside you, close enough that you could almost feel the heat from her.

"Kika cornered you," Alexia said, and it wasn't a question. "I saw her. I thought about trying to save you, but…"

"She thinks something's going on," you said straightforwardly.  "Actually, she is very certain of it. We should probably sit down and make up a very good lie about why we always seem to gravitate towards each other after a win."

"Huh, like right now?" Alexia murmured, her breath dangerously close to your ear.

"Like right now," you murmured back, turning to look at her.

"We have been careful, nena", Alexia said. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed from dancing and alcohol. "But Kika is... observant."

"Too observant."

She looked at you, studying you. "Are you worried about it?" 

You considered it for a moment, "I don't know. Maybe we should cool it for a while? The media and the girls will--"

"Is that what you want?" Alexia's gaze was suddenly sharpened. You knew better than anyone else that she did not like to be rejected. "To cool it?"

"No, I really don't," you admitted softly. "But–"

"We won the Champions League tonight," Alexia said, her voice all tender once again. She took a step closer, your bodies touching now. "That was the deal, wasn't it? Big wins? Sex right after?"

Your breath caught in your throat. "Yes, Ale. I know about our deal. It's just that–"

"Tell me you don't want this, and I'll go back inside," she said, and there was something vulnerable in her voice despite the confidence in her posture. "Tell me you want to cool it, and we will. I won't chase after you anymore, and we'll go back to being just friends."

You should say yes. Should tell her you wanted to stop, that this whole arrangement was getting too complicated, too risky, too dangerous for your own heart. 

But all you could think about was the feeling of her hands on your bare skin, her wet mouth tracing patterns across your body, and the way she looked at you in the dark of the night as if you were something to be savoured.

"I don't want to cool it," you whispered finally.

Alexia's lips curved into a slow, beautiful, small smile. "Good. Because neither do I."

You managed to leave the bar separately. Alexia left first, claiming she was tired, and you followed about twenty minutes later. You didn't give anyone an excuse for your departure. At this point, you knew any lies you attempted would only make it obvious exactly what (or who) you were after.

No one seemed suspicious of Alexia. Or if they were, they were simply too drunk and ecstatic to care. Your absence went unnoticed, too; your phone remained blissfully silent in your pocket. You couldn't help but smile as you stepped into the back of a taxi heading towards the hotel. 

When you finally reached her room on the seventh floor, you started the same careful dance you had performed a dozen times before. But tonight felt different. Maybe it was the magnitude of the win. Maybe it was the single pina colada loosening your inhibitions. Or maybe it was Kika's lingering comment about the two of you being good together, and all that silly nonsense about love.

Whatever it was, the moment Alexia opened the door and pulled you inside, all the growing tension ruptured into a kiss. Alexia kissed you with an intensity that made your knees instantly weak, and you felt something shift between you two.

This wasn't just a post-match reward anymore. This was something… deeper. It felt as if she wanted to prove a point, to show you that you couldn't live without her. That there was absolutely no way you could ever "cool things off". 

Alexia took her time, she always did, but it felt even more deliberate… was it predatory?  Her hands mapped every centimetre of your skin, as if she were trying to memorise your anatomy. Her lips followed the trail of her fingers, pressing heavy and bruising kisses into places that made you gasp, places that forced you to arch into her touch.

"Ale," you breathed, your fingers tangling in her hair.

"Shh," she murmured against your collarbone, her warm breath sending a shiver running through you, "Let me."

And you did.

You let her take you apart piece by piece, slowly and methodically. Every touch was calculated to draw a reaction. Every kiss was placed exactly where she knew it would make you completely fall apart.

It was overwhelming. It was perfect. You needed more. It was just not enough.  It was also starting to feel dangerously less like just sex and more like something unnamed.

You pulled her face closer as Alexia lay naked on top of you, both of you letting out a moan, sharing the same shallow breath. 

You and Alexia fit together with terrifying perfection, the alignment of your pelvis, the friction of bone against bone, the heavy brush of your breasts, the curve of your collarbones and shoulders. But above all, your mouth. Alexia slid her tongue into your mouth, and you sucked on it, reaching for me, demanding to taste her and that sugary drink that still tinged her tongue. 

Alexia was a biter. Her lips nipped at your sensitive skin, leaving mark after dark mark against your throat, and she clearly did not give a damn if you would have to use concealer to hide them from the cameras and teammates tomorrow. 

She did not care at all. The analytical and pragmatic version of herself melted while in bed; she let her instinct take over, and her instincts were flawless; she knew exactly where to suck, where to bite, where to slap, and where to caress.

You were so utterly lost too in the assault of different sensations that you barely realised that Alexia's hands had moved from your waist. Her fingernails were scratching your abdomen lightly, dragging downward.  

You whined against her lips, wanting those hands on your thighs, wanting them inside you. You wanted her to fill the ache, only she knew how.

You had slept with other people in the months between your rendezvous with Alexia, but not a single one of the girls had been able to make you come properly. Eventually, you had just given up on everyone else entirely.  None of them compared. 

"You like it, no, nena?" Alexia's voice carried that inflexion of arrogance, the tone of a woman who knew what she was capable of doing to you. "You like it a lot. You have been thinking about me wanting you all night, haven't you?"

Her wicked words and even more wicked fingers were doing unspeakable things to your body, sending your pulse skyrocketing. Your jugular throbbed so violently beneath her touch that it felt as if it might burst if she didn't slide her hand lower soon.

"Tell me, corazón," Alexia murmured, her lips catching your earlobe roughly, biting down hard enough to make you whimper. "Let me hear your voice."

"I thought about you wanting me," you breathed, your legs trembling so badly you could barely manage to keep your thighs open.

"And what do you want me to do to you?" Alexia asked, you sensed her smile flutter against your pulse point, and God, you wanted her to bite you again.

Her fingers kept teasingly moving lower, tracing every part of your body, every birthmark, every scar, teasing and mocking your lack of control. You were going mad. Alexia's low voice and skilful fingers would be your undoing.

"You can do whatever you want," you panted. Alexia's smirk only grew; she deftly ran her tongue over one of the small bruises already flowering on your neck. "

"I've wanted you too, nena," Alexia whispered, calling back to what you said before. Her mouth was once again teasing your ear, and you wondered if that was her favourite spot. If not, it was a close second.

She let out a hot puff of air, nipping gently at the reddened skin. No amount of makeup was going to save you tomorrow. Everyone in the team would look at you and know someone had fucked you silky, leaving you this weak, this powerless, this beautifully undone. 

They just wouldn't know that the someone in question was their captain. The captain who was currently branding you just like she always did. Alexia was a possessive little creature, and not-so-secretly, you enjoyed being hers.

"Ale, please" you moaned, your eyes closing shut as her fingers finally traced your inner thigh, slipping inside your pussy.

You were soaking for her. So pathetically wet for her.

Alexia let you accommodate to the depth of her two fingers, slowing down to press a line of small, sweet kisses against your lower lip, mindful of the previous bites she had left there just minutes ago. 

There were such gentle, tender kisses that you trembled at the sheer affection of them. More often than not, you didn't associate softness with yourself, as if you didn't deserve it. So why was Alexia softer now?

"I want you all the time, corazón," Alexia whispered, her finger starting to move in a steady, agonising rhythm. 

The sensation of her stretching you inside was overwhelming, the inaction burn instantly overtaken by the pure exaltation of relief. Finally, you had her.  

Alexia continued to move her fingers in and out of your clenching pussy, her free hand coming up to rest flat on your neck. She applied the right amount of pressure. The devil-woman was very much aware of how much you loved choking, and, easy like that, she was commanding your body to come for her on the spot.

"Fuck me, please," you whimpered, shifting your hips as her pelvis pressed tightly against he own hand, driving the penetration even deeper. Dizzy. You were so dizzy.

"I am fucking you, bebe,"  Alexia murmured,  her voice filled with satisfaction. "And I do my job so well, don't I?" 

She curved her hand firmly around the base of your throat, restricting your air, making your vision grow pleasantly hazy as your blood flow constricted. "Like this. You love it when I hold you down, right?"

You let out a needy whimper, the words barely coherent, but Alexia understood it.

"Of course you like it, mi campeona," she smirked. She released the pressure on your neck as your cheek flushed a deep crimson, her thumb immediately caressing the sensitive skin she had just been dominating. "You are so wet… Tan mojada."

"I'm almost there," you pouted, hips twitching. "Please, please, I'm almost-"

"You want to cum?" Alexia asked, her eyes locked onto yours. "Want to soak my sheets? Drench my hands?"

"Please?" You begged desperately. "Can I?"

You could feel your orgasm closer. Her fingers moved faster, going deeper, searching for your own limit.

"Of course you can," Alexia whispered, her tone suddenly shifting into something so breathtakingly tender it hurt. "We just won the Champions League, amor. Mi amor. Tonight, you can have whatever you want."

Alexia moved her thumb, pinpointing a very specific spot on your clit, and within seconds, you were coming. The orgasm ripped through you, stealing every last drop of oxygen from your lungs. 

You arched your back into her, trembling as she pulled her fingers out, only for her tongue to instantly swipe from your clit down to your slit. A gasp caught in your throat, and you weakly pushed at her shoulder. 

"Too much," you mumbled, barely possessing the strength to resist; your arms were too heavy to move. 

"Let me taste you, corazón," Alexia murmured against your wet folds. 

You looked down through heavy-lidded eyes as she kissed her way back to your pussy. "I spent the whole day thinking about this. You taste, your scent… how badly I wanted my face buried in tu coño."

"Oh," you moaned, throwing your hand up to cover your face. The sensory overload was too intense; a second orgasm was already starting to build, just as intense as the first one. "Fuck, ale, it's too much-"

"Sh," she whispered against your heat, her tongue thrusting inside your entrance before lapping up at your wetness. "Don't fight it, nena. Just let it come to you."

"I can't," you cried out, trying to tilt your pelvis away, but Alexia stopped it, placing a heavy hand on your hip. "I can't I–"

"You can,' Alexia said, her voice not leaving room for you to fight her. "You can because I said so. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't know you couldn't handle it. So just fucking lie there and come on my tongue."

Her words were the trigger you needed. Your walls clamped down around n her tongue, and your orgasm washed over you in a wave of translucent liquid. Wetting the bedding, ruining her sheet, coating your inner tights and her whole face. 

"Joder," Alexia groaned, swallowing your release. She kept lapping at you, but now, the overwhelming pleasure was begging to cross the line into pain.

"No, no more, please," you whimpered, gently tugging at her hair to pull her up.

Aleixa immediately alleviated the pressure, kissing her way away from your clit, and pressing soft and soothing kisses on your inner thigh. "Just cleaning you up now, mi amor, sí?"

The feeling was so intense you didn't realise it wasn't the first time Alexia had called you amor tonight. But whatever, maybe she was just too pussy drunk.

"You are dripping everywhere," she muttered, her voice low. Her palm pressed firmer against your thigh, forcing wider over her shoulder so your pussy stayed fully exposed to her.

She dragged her tongue lower, circling your entrance before pushing inside just enough to make you clench. She continued to tend to your pussy, her tongue still warm, but incredibly tender now. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a voice whispered that she was doing that more as an act of self-indulgence than anything else. 

"Tienes un sabor tan dulce," she mumbled against you. [You taste so sweet.]

You gasped, a sharp flare of oversensitivity striking you as she sucked gently on your outer lips, cleaning every trace of your release with wet sounds. Alexia kept lapping at your folds with slow strokes, her tongue dragging through the slick mess until your whimpers grew sharper again.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," she murmured, more to herself than to you.

She pulled, leaving what you thought was a final kiss right on your clit that made your hips twitch. She reached down for the Campeonas shirt crumpled on the floor, using the soft fabric to gently wipe between your thighs, soaking up the wetness. 

Because she couldn't help herself, she pressed one more tender kiss right on your centre before moving up your body to face you. Her lips brushed your nose first, then claimed your mouth in a deep kiss. Her tongue pushed in to swirl around yours, forcing the taste of your own release across your palate. 

"See? That's why I couldn't stop," she whispered against your lips. "See how you taste? Good, no?"

Your cheeks flushed hot. Your mind was hazy and slow to form proper thoughts. 

"I get sensitive when I squirt," you mumbled, trying to explain to her why you had to end her fun so soon. 

Alexia smiled. "I know," she said, tugging the duvet over both of you. "And cold too, if I remember correctly."

You lay there catching your breath while she peppered lazy kisses along your jaw and neck. Your hand trailed down the mattress, moving slowly until your fingers found her pussy, touching it without any hurry. 

You slid one finger inside her easily, testing the slickness, and Alexia moaned low, her face pressing into your neck as her walls tightly clenched around your finger.

You cupped her face and drew her into another kiss, sliding a second finger alongside the first inside her dripping pussy. "You are wet, wetter than me," you whispered on her lips.

She let out a low chuckle. "That would be impossible, nena."

You smiled at her arrogance and rolled your eyes, then guided her head down to rest against your neck properly. Her body shifted naturally on top of yours, her thighs spreading wide so your hand could keep working between her legs without pause. 

"Good?" you asked, brushing kisses across her flushed cheeks.

Alexia needed that slow, steady rhythm to build up her orgasm; she actually hated to be rushed when it was her turn to come. Your fingers already ached slightly from the constant motion, but you kept the pace even and deep.

 "Uhum," she murmured, voice thick with desire. "Tan bona."

"Want one more finger?" you offered, your thumb circling her clit, 

"Don't know if it will fit," she moaned, her hips grinding down to meet your hand, clearly betraying her own words. 

"You're very wet, Ale. It will." You eased the third finger in gradually, stretching her open while monitoring every twitch and gasp she let out.

Once all three were buried knuckle deep in her pussy, you resumed the thrusts, curling and stroking her inner walls with consistent pressure that had her breathing turn ragged against your neck. 

She clutched desperately at your shoulders, her thighs trembling as the tension finally snapped. Her pussy tightened around your fingers, pulsing hard through the orgasm while she buried her face deeper into the crook of your neck, muffling low words you couldn't quite understand.

You kept her hand still, letting her ride out her orgasm on your fingers until she finally softened. 

She let out a chuckle. "Joder," she breathed, kissing your jaw before you slid off your hamd. "Fuck, gràcies."

Seemingly, she wasn't done with you… not close. 

You let her take the lead again, guiding your body exactly how she wanted. There was such a beautiful duality to her, soft everywhere, yet her muscles stayed firm from all the training she had done through the years.

She spread your legs again, her eyes falling on you for a second before she dipped her head between them. When she sucked your clit into her mouth, a gasp left your lips. The pull was gentle, her tongue slow, while you sank helplessly back into the mattress. 

It felt less like foreplay now and more like she simply wanted the taste of you; she wanted the closeness, wanted to consume you. Her low voice hummed against your skin as she worked on you all over again.

When she finally pulled away, her face was glistening. She bit into your inner thigh, then hooked your leg over her shoulder once more. She shifted up, lining her soaked pussy directly over yours. 

The moment the wet heats fused together, you let out a collective groan. Alexia didn't wait to accommodate herself; she started rocking her hips, grinding her clit against yours in a perfect slide. She was dripping.

"Ohh," you moaned, eyes locked on the way your slick folds pressed and parted with every roll of her hips. Every move of her made a wet, squelching and embarrassing sound that echoed through the hotel room. It sounded so devastatingly hot and prohibited; it only made it all more thrilling. 

"Yes, Ale. Grind against me, bebé."

Alexia kept the pace slow. Her chest was pressed against yours, breast against breast. "So good… joder."

Her hip continued the motion relentlessly, your clit meeting every single time. She was pinning you down with her weight, taking everything you had to give her. "You feel so good, corazón–"

The friction was becoming too much, the heat far too intense. "Alexia… please!" You cried, tossing your head even further back into the pillows.

"Fuck," she panted against your lips while her pace became faster. "I'm close too, mi amor, fuck–"

Your walls spasmed first; you didn't know if it was the reason that triggered her orgasm, but Alexia shattered right after. She let out a loud cry into your mouth as her pelvis locked hard against yours, her body rigid as her orgasm took over. Underneath her, you were coming just as intensely, your vision already opaque, your mouth completely dry. 

Slowly, you both relax, too much exhaustion in your muscles. Alexia's body collapsed fully on top of you; the poor thing was spent. You wrapped your arms around her back, welcoming her. 

You didn't say a thing, but it was obvious that the invisible line you had feared crossing for so long had been blurred beyond recognition. Yet, as your eyes closed, all you cared about was that Alexia was sleeping next to you.

The sleep didn't last too long, though. 

You woke up around thirty minutes later with the sensation of Alexia's fingers tracing lines across your shoulder blade.

"Hi," she murmured, her voice sleepy.

"Mhm," you mumbled, pressing your face directly into her (warm) neck. You were so sleepy, so tired. "Shhh, quiet."

She allowed you a few minutes of silence to properly wake up. But the moment she spoke again, she went right to the point, as if whatever was on her mind had made a home there for a long time.

"Ey nena, do you ever wonder…" she began quietly, breaking the comfortable silence, not quite looking at you, choosing to focus on the hotel's tv. "What would this be like if it wasn't just after wins?"

"Mhm? What do you mean?" you asked, rubbing your eyes and already knowing exactly what she meant. You had been torturing yourself with the exact thoughts at the club earlier, although you never articulated them.

"Just…" she trailed off. "I think I want to know what it would be like to be with you when we don't have to sneak around and hide in hotel rooms. Like… would the sex be different? Would we be different?"

Okay. Calm. Be calm!! It's happening!

"I ask myself that, too," you confessed to her, the conversation making you feel more awake.

"What do you wonder about?" Alexia asked.

You thought for a moment, picking up her hands and playing with her long fingers.

"Mainly if the sex would be softer. Maybe less..." You struggled to find the right word. "Less intense…? I feel like we try to give our absolute best and squeeze in every single position we can think of, simply because we only get to this a handful of times a season, you know?"

Alexia's lips curved into a small smile. "Oh, so you think I'm intense?"

"I think you approach sex like you are trying to win a prize." You rolled your eyes playfully. "Trying to win the gold medal."

"And is that a bad thing?" She asked, her eyes light narrowed.

"No, of course not," you said honestly, looking up to her, kissing her chin because why not? "It's incredible. You are incredible. I just..." 

Alexia shifted, propping herself up on one elbow so she could look at you properly. "You just wonder if this is all we are. If this arrangement is all we can ever be."

Your breath caught instantly. "Yeah… exactly."

She was quiet again. 

"I know we agreed this was supposed to be simple," Alexia said softly. "A way to... release tension after big matches. No complications and no real feelings, etc."

"...And now?" you asked, feeling a dangerous spark of hope.

"And now I think about you at the most random times," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think about you during training. I think about what it would be like to have you in ways that have nothing to do with football."

You felt like you couldn't breathe, as if the oxygen in the room had dissipated. This is exactly what you had been unconsciously waiting months for. "Ale-

"But I'm also scared," she continued. "We both swore we would never do this. Never get involved with a teammate. And well…look at us."

"We're not... involved," you tried to say, even to yourself; it sounded weak. "Not really."

Alexia gave you a look that clearly said you were full of bullshit.

"Aren't we?" She asked, looking down at your naked body, only covered by the duvet. "This is as involved as I have been with someone in a while, nena."

You didn't have an answer for that; maybe it didn't exist. So instead, you reached up to her, wrapping your hand on the nape of her neck and pulling her down to kiss her. 

The kiss was slow and tender; it was made to shatter every rule you both had ever made. There was still the faint taste of you in her mouth; you wished Alexia hadn't grown tolerant of that. 

When you finally pulled apart, Alexia rested her forehead against yours. She was breathless and flushed and perfect. Suddenly, you wanted to completely claim her as yours.

"What are we doing, Ale?" you whispered in the dark. "What does it all mean?"

"I don't know," she admitted, her thumb lazily tracking your cheekbone. "But I want you, corazón."

"Even though it breaks every single rule we made?"

"I don't think I care about those rules, if I'm being honest," she chuckled. "They were kind os stupid."

You couldn't help the smile that escaped you. "That is so very unlike you, capitana. You live for rules, don't you?"

"I think I live for you more," she said suddenly.

The words hung between you. 

You could see the exact moment Alexia realised what had just slipped past her lips, the way her eyes darkened with a flicker of panic. 

You would think it was a rehearsed line with how easily she said it, but it was an accident. A truth that had been suppressed.

"I—" she started, and her posture stiffened, as if she wanted to take every single word and swallow it down. 

"Don't," you interrupted her spiralling, moving your hand to cup her jaw. "Don't take the words back, bebé. Say them properly."

"What?" she breathed, looking tapped. 

"Say it again. Please, Ale."

Alexia's expression softened, and she closed her eyes and swallowed hard. "I love you," she whispered. "Te quiero, corazón."

Your heart was doing somersaults, and a wave of warmth took over your body. "Te quiero, Ale."

"Sí?" She asked, eyes wide. 

"Yeah." You pulled her into another kiss "I think I have for a while now, but I didn't have the courage to say it."

"Me too," Alexia murmured. "I kept trying to convince myself it was just physical, just the arrangement, the adrenaline, but it wasn't."

"It never was, right?" You were staring at her pink lips. 

So sweet they were.

Your sweet, sweet girl. 

You stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other, processing what you had both just admitted.

"So what do we do now?" Alexia asked after you both had taken a shower and had something to eat.

"I'm not sure," you murmured, getting even closer to her. "This is... complicated, no? A bit humiliating considering we always went out of our way to talk about how we would never be with a teammate?'

"I think we are hypocritical," Alexia agreed, smiling.

"The team will definitely think that, too," you said, already imagining the teasing. 

"They will probably be insufferable about it," Alexia said, her eyes as lifeless as yours, thinking about the future teasing. She didn't handle teasing very well. "Especially Kika… she scares me sometimes."

You laughed. "We are big girls. I think we can handle Kika and the others."

"Yeah, you are right," Alexia said slowly. "But also, I don't think I care that much…"

You pulled back to look at her. "No? You hate it when the kids make fun of you."

"Yeah, I don't appreciate much of the team banter, but when it comes to us… We are professionals, aren't we? We've proven that years ago. This… thing between us hasn't really affected our performance. If anything, we have won more since we started having sex."

"That's... probably not a correlation we should mention to the team, though," you said, your index finger to your chin.

Alexia grinned. "Probably not."

"So you want to... what?" You asked. "Tell them? Make this official? Or let them figure it out on their own.

"It would be nice for us to tell them… eventually. But right now–" She pecked your lips. "–I just want to see where this goes. No more rules about only having sex after victories, no more pretending this is just physical… just us, okay?"

"Okay," you smiled. "I think I like us a lot."

"Good." Alexia kissed you again, softer "So... does this mean I can take you to dinner? On a proper date."

Now you were properly grinning. "Only if it's an Arabic food place."

She rolled her eyes. "Deal."

"And then," you continued, kissing her chin, then moving to her neck. Your hand came to her waist as you straddle her hips, your breast right in front of her face, you could see she was trying to look in your eyes, and not down. "Maybe we can find out what it's like to have sex when we aren't tipsy or on an adrenaline high…?"

Alexia smirked, her hand tracing your side up and down, until she settled on your hips. "It would be a lovely discovery, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "It would. I think we would be slower and–"

"Soft?" She suggested.

"Yes," you said, bringing her thumb to counter the shape of your lips. "I think we have a problem, though… I might be too eager to wait till them."

In the end, you did find out, right then.

And it turned out that Alexia, without the victory high, was, if possible, even more devastating. She was indeed softer, sweeter, but just as intense. 

Somehow, the sex was even better.

The end.

Or is it?

Three Weeks Later

"I fucking knew it!" Kika crowed when you and Alexia finally, officially told the team, after they caught you kissing in the locker room when you thought no one was around. 

"We all knew it," Vicky said, looking entirely too smug.

"I didn't know," Patri said, looking genuinely surprised. "Why didn't anybody tell me!?"

"How could you not?" Clara asked, just as surprised. "They used to disappear after every big game to do… god knows what."

Alexia rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, at ease. You loved seeing her like that, relaxed and soft.

"So you are really together?" Patri asked, eyeing you both suspiciously. "Like, for real?"

"Yep!" you confirmed, popping the P.

"It was about time," Kika said. "The sexual tension was exhausting to watch… it was getting seriously depressing,"

"It really was," Ona agreed. "We thought about playing cupid to see if we could bring you two together… but it seems that Oslo did that just fine." 

The defender winked, and Alexia's face heated up, but then her smile slowly turned into a grin.

"It was a very good night, indeed," Alexia said, kissing your temple. 

A/n: Honestly I only wanted to write the smut, but I feel like it needed a bit of context around it, that's why the scenes might feel a little bit disconnect?