consumed (with whatâs to transpire) - alexia putellas
àŒ sex on fire - kings of leon, (live from itunes festival, london, 2013)
àŒ pairing - alexia putellas x fem!reader
àŒ synopsis - a years-long rivalry between alexia putellas and a real madrid midfielder finally explodes into something impossible to ignore after a brutal, tension-filled clĂĄsico forces them to confront the attraction theyâve been disguising as competition since they were teenagers.
àŒ word count - 3.1k
àŒ notes - continuation from of your sex is on fire ; not proof read
àŒ warnings - oral, fingering, alexia using strap (itâs basically all smut)
àŒ read more - masterlist
the national team hotel feels like a pressure cooker wearing the same old lights.
two weeks of nothing. absolutely nothing. more nothing than nothing. two weeks of silence so loud it drowned out everything else. two weeks pretending the supply closet never happened.
âž»
you spot her the second you walk into the lobby.
alexia stands near the elevators in a spain tracksuit, hair tied back, talking quietly with mapi like the world is perfectly ordinary. when her gaze lands on you, it slides right past- cool, detached, barely a flicker of recognition.
âhola,â she says. flat. indifferent. the same tone sheâd use for any random teammate.
your stomach twists hard. you nod once, acknowledging her acknowledge, jaw clenched, and continuing to walk.
the whole day is hell wrapped in professionalism.
on the pitch she marks you cleanly but without fire- no extra shoulder, no low taunts, no lingering eye contact that once set your skin alight (not that she was the type to do so, but with radio silence your brain definitely had started coming to conclusions). during tactical meetings she sits on the opposite side of the room. at dinner she laughs at something aitana says and doesnât look your way once. every polite, distant interaction feels like a deliberate blade twisting deeper.
by the time curfew hits, youâre vibrating with rage and something sharper underneath it. something that feels dangerously like hurt. like longing wearing a cruel mask.
you hate her for it.
you hate her more because you know exactly why sheâs doing it.
and still- you walk straight to room 412 anyway.
why? why not.
three sharp knocks.
the door opens almost immediately. alexia stands there in an oversized t-shirt and shorts, barefoot, hair loose around her shoulders. she doesnât look surprised. she just steps aside silently, letting you in.
the second the door clicks shut behind you, the air thickens.
âwhat the fuck is wrong with you?â you demand, voice low but sharp enough to cut.
she leans against the desk, arms crossed, face carefully blank. ânothing.â
âbullshit.â you step closer, fists clenched at your sides. âtwo weeks of radio silence after you fucked me in that closet and whispered ânext timeâ like it meant something. then today you look at me like iâm a stranger. like touching me was some kind of mistake youâd rather forget.â
alexiaâs jaw tightens. her eyes flash for the first time all day- that familiar mix of anger and heat youâve come to crave.
âyou think this is easy for me?â she says quietly, dangerously. âyou think i can just walk around camp eye-fucking you while twenty teammates are watching our every move? im a private person, y/n. one wrong look and this whole thing explodes.â
âso instead you chose to make me feel like shit?â your laugh is bitter, edged with pain. âyou ignored me like i was nothing. after you had me against that shelf, after you said my name like it belonged to you. congratulations, putellas. you succeeded in making me hate you even more.â
she pushes off the desk, closing the distance until only inches separate you. you can smell her shampoo, feel the heat rolling off her body, see the slight tremble in her fingers where sheâs fighting for control.
âyou think i enjoyed it?â her voice drops, rougher now, cracking at the edges. âyou think i liked pretending you donât exist when all i could think about for two weeks was how you tasted? how you clenched around my fingers? how you bit my shoulder so no one would hear you come?â
the words hit low and hard. heat floods your body even as anger burns hotter in your chest.
âthen why?â you whisper, voice shaking. âwhy act like you hate me?â
alexiaâs hand shoots out, grabbing the front of your hoodie. she yanks you forward until your foreheads almost touch, breath mingling.
âbecause i do hate you,â she breathes against your mouth, eyes anything but the familiar brown and gold youâve come to hate loving. âi hate how badly i want you. i hate that i canât stop thinking about you. i hate that youâre the only person who makes me lose control like this. i hate how much control you have over me.â
then she kisses you.
itâs not soft. itâs angry and desperate and honest in a way that scares you both. teeth clash. lips bruise. her hands shove your hoodie up and off in one rough motion. you rip her t-shirt over her head in return, nails dragging down her bare back hard enough to leave marks.
âsay it again,â you demand, biting her bottom lip until she hisses.
âi hate you,â she growls, walking you backward toward the bed. her hands are already pushing your shorts down. âi hate how wet you already are for me. i hate that your body reacts like this even when youâre pissed.â
you shove her down onto the mattress and climb on top, straddling her hips. both of you are breathing hard, chests heaving, skin already flushed.
âgood,â you whisper, grinding down against her, leaving a slick trail on her thigh. âbecause i hate you too. i hate how much i need this. how much i need you even when you treat me like iâm disposable.â
alexiaâs hands grip your waist hard enough to bruise as she flips you underneath her in one smooth motion. her mouth finds your neck, sucking a dark mark just below your jaw where your collar might hide it- or might not.
âthen let me show you how much i hate you, princesa.â
âž»
clothes vanish fast after that, scattered across the floor like casualties.
she strips you like sheâs angry at every layer keeping her from your skin. when youâre both finally naked she pins your wrists above your head with one hand and kisses down your body with biting, open-mouthed drags of her lips and teeth- collarbone, the swell of your breasts, the dip of your stomach. when she reaches between your legs she groans low in her throat.
âfuck⊠look at you.â two fingers slide through your soaked folds, teasing your entrance. âsoaked. all because i ignored you today?â
âshut up,â you hiss, hips jerking up desperately.
she doesnât. instead she sinks two fingers deep inside you and curls them perfectly, thumb pressing firm circles on your clit. your back arches off the bed with a broken moan that echoes in the quiet room.
âthatâs it,â she whispers, watching your face like sheâs memorizing every flicker of pleasure and pain. âhate me while you fuck yourself on my hand. show me how much youâve been thinking about this.â
you do. you roll your hips desperately while she fucks you deep and steady, adding a third finger that stretches you beautifully. the anger and the pleasure twist together until you canât tell which is driving you higher.
âi hate you,â you gasp as the orgasm builds fast and vicious.
âi know,â she says, voice wrecked. she leans down and bites your collarbone, sucking hard. âcome anyway. let me feel it.â
you shatter- hard, clenching around her fingers, her name tearing from your throat like a curse and a confession. she works you through it, slower now but not stopping, whispering filthy, conflicted things against your neck.
âi hate how perfect you feel. i hate how much i missed this. i hate that iâd risk everything just to hear you moan like that again.â
you flip her the second your limbs cooperate.
this time you take control, kissing down her body with the same biting hunger. you spread her thighs wide and drag your tongue up her center slowly, savoring the way she shudders.
âsay it,â you demand against her soaked pussy.
alexiaâs hand fists tightly in your hair. âi hate you,â she moans as you suck hard on her clit. âi hate how good you are at this. i hate that no one else makes me feel like this.â
her words cut off in a sharp cry as you slide three fingers inside her and curl them relentlessly. you eat her out like youâre trying to ruin her for anyone else- relentless, deep, every stroke laced with weeks of frustration and unspoken longing. she comes hard, thighs shaking around your head, moaning your name like it hurts her. you donât stop. you keep going, gentler but still insistent, until sheâs coming again, quieter this time, almost sobbing with overstimulation and relief.
you crawl back up her body and kiss her deeply, letting her taste herself on your tongue. for a moment the kiss softens- still desperate, but heavier with everything neither of you wants to name out loud.
alexia pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes glassy, lips swollen, chest heaving.
âi wasnât indifferent,â she admits, voice hoarse. âi was fucking terrified. still am. terrified of how much i want you. of what this is becoming.â
you rest your forehead against hers, both of you breathing the same charged air.
âgood. be terrified. it means you feel it too- this stupid, messy, burning thing between us.â
she kisses you again- slower, deeper, almost tender for a heartbeat- before the fire catches once more. her hands slide down your body, gripping your ass as she pulls you closer, grinding up against you.
the night is far from over.
you ride her thigh while she grips your hips and tells you exactly how much she hates how badly she needs you. she fucks you from behind with deep, punishing strokes of her fingers while biting your shoulder and admitting sheâs replayed that supply closet every single night for two weeks.
the hate and the want keep bleeding into each other, feeding the flames higher.
youâre both slick with sweat, chests heaving, when alexia suddenly stills beneath you. her hands tighten on your waist, holding you in place as you grind down on her.
âwait,â she murmurs, voice rough like gravel.
you freeze, breathing hard, looking down at her. her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, but thereâs something else there too- a flicker of decision.
âwhat?â you ask, half-challenging, half-curious.
she sits up slowly, bringing your bodies flush together. her lips brush your ear.
âi want more tonight.â a pause. her fingers trace your spine. âi brought something.â
your stomach flips. heat coils tighter between your legs.
âshow me.â
alexia kisses you once- hard, claiming- then gently shifts you off her lap. she leans over the side of the bed, reaching into her suitcase. when she straightens, sheâs holding a harness and a thick, long silicone, dark shades of blue and garnet stripes, almost humorous if it wasnât intimidating
she watches your reaction carefully, almost vulnerably.
âwhy is it barca themed?â, you ask with an eye roll.
âcallete. only if you want it,â she says her tone of voice going from snappy to shy. the arrogance from earlier is gone. this is raw alexia- the one who pretends to hate how much she feels.
you reach out, wrapping your hand around the toy, then around her tattooed wrist.
âi want it,â you tell her. âi want you to fuck me with it. hard.â
her eyes flash with fresh hunger. âget on your back, princesa.â
you obey, spreading your legs for her as she steps into the harness, tightening the straps around her hips. the sight of her- toned abs, strong biteable thighs, the strap jutting out heavy and ready- makes you ache.
alexia crawls over you, kissing you slow and deep while she teases the head of the toy through your folds. youâre so wet it glides easily.
âstill hate me?â she whispers against your lips, nudging the tip just inside you.
âyes,â you breathe, rolling your hips up, trying to take more. âi hate how much i need you to fill me.â
she pushes in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you open. the burn is perfect. you moan loudly, nails digging into her shoulders. when she bottoms out, hips flush against yours, she stays there, letting you adjust, forehead pressed to yours.
âfuck, you feel so good,â she groans. âso tight around me.â
âmove, alexia,â you demand, voice breaking. âfuck me like you mean all that hate.â
she does.
the first thrust is deep and measured. the second harder. soon sheâs fucking you with long, powerful strokes that hit every spot inside you. the sound of skin meeting skin, your shared moans, and the wet slide of the strap fills the room.
you wrap your legs around her waist, pulling her deeper.
âharder,â you gasp. âplease amor.â
alexia growls, shifting her angle and driving into you faster. the harness presses against her clit with every thrust, making her breath hitch. she pins your hands above your head again, eyes locked on yours.
âi hate how much i love fucking you,â she admits between thrusts. âbut i love how your face looks when you take me like this.â
youâre close already, the emotional weight and physical intensity pushing you toward the edge. she senses it, grinding deep and circling her hips.
âcome for me,â she commands softly. âlet me feel you fall apart on my cock.â
you shatter with a cry, clenching haard around the strap, body shaking beneath her. alexia fucks you through it, slower but no less deep, kissing you through the aftershocks.
but she doesnât pull out.
instead she flips you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up so youâre on all fours. she re-enters you in one smooth thrust, hand fisting your hair gently.
âagain,â she says. âiâm not done hating you yet.â
the new angle is devastating. she fucks you deep and relentless, one hand reaching around to rub your clit. you push back against her, meeting every thrust, moaning into the pillow.
âtell me,â she demands, voice strained. âtell me you hate me while iâm inside you.â
âi hate you,â you moan, pushing back harder. âi hate how full you make me feel. i hate how much i want this every day.â
her rhythm falters for a second, then she doubles down, pounding into you. the slap of her hips against your ass is loud, obscene. you come again, harder this time, nearly collapsing forward. alexia holds you up, fucking you through it until her own orgasm hits from the friction against her clit. she grinds deep, moaning your name against your back as she trembles.
âž»
you barely have time to catch your breath before sheâs pulling out gently, removing the harness and setting it aside. but sheâs not finished.
she lies back and pulls you on top of her again, guiding your hand between her legs.
âyour turn,â she whispers. âfuck me with your fingers while i still feel you.â
you do - sliding three fingers into her soaked pussy, curling them exactly how she likes. she rides your hand desperately, kissing you messily, whispering broken confessions between moans.
âi hate wanting you this much⊠i hate needing you⊠i hate that youâre ruining me for anyone elseâŠâ
âthe word hate tends lose its meaning after you overuse it, you know.â you retort, a smirk growing on your face as you add a fourth finger, stretching her, and after song moments she comes with a sharp cry, clenching around you, thighs shaking.
the night blurs into a long, consuming haze.
you take turns. she fucks you with the strap again on the edge of the bed, your legs over her shoulders, hitting so deep you see stars. you ride her face while she still wears the harness, grinding against her tongue until youâre shaking. she bends you over the edge of the bed, fucking you from behind while whispering how much she hates how perfect you are.
every round is laced with conversation that cuts deeper than the physical pleasure.
between orgasms you argue and confess in the same breath.
âyou ignored me all day like i was nothing,â you say while slowly riding the strap, hands braced on her chest.
âbecause if i looked at you too long i wouldâve pulled you into the bathroom and fucked you right there,â she answers, thrusting up to meet you. âi hate how stupid you make me.â
âgood,â you gasp, leaning down to bite her lip. âstay stupid for me.â
later, tangled and slow, she fucks you missionary again with the strap- deep, rolling thrusts that feel less like fucking and more like making love wearing hateâs clothing.
âi hate you,â she whispers, eyes locked on yours, sweat dripping from her brow.
âi hate you too,â you reply, cupping her face. the words feel like the truth and the biggest lie at the same time.
you lose count of how many times you come. how many times she does. the room smells like sex and sweat and both of you. the sheets are ruined. your bodies are covered in marks- bites, fingerprints, hickeys that will need careful hiding tomorrow.
âž»
hours later, the sky outside is beginning to lighten toward dawn.
youâre both utterly spent.
alexia lies on her back, breathing slow and deep. youâre curled into her side, head on her chest, one leg thrown over hers. her arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, fingers tracing lazy, soothing circles on your bare hip.
the strap and harness are discarded somewhere on the floor. the only sound is your heartbeats and the distant hum of the hotel aircon.
no more words for a while. the anger has burned out, leaving only raw tenderness in its place.
alexia presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.
âi wasnât lying,â she murmurs, voice hoarse from hours of use. âiâm terrified of this. of us.â
you tilt your head up to look at her. her face is soft in the dim lamplight- lips swollen, eyes heavy with exhaustion and something much deeper.
âme too,â you admit. âbut i donât want to stop.â
she pulls you closer, tucking your head under her chin.
âthen we donât stop. we figure it out. quietly. messily.â
you smile against her skin, pressing a gentle kiss to her collarbone.
âdeal.â
her fingers keep stroking your back, slow and rhythmic. your eyelids grow heavier. the ache in your body feels earned, almost sacred.
âyou think anyone heard us?â you asked softly, forcing yourself to glance at her.
âprobably. but thatâs a problem for later. stay until we have to get up,â she whispers.
you nod, already drifting.
alexia reaches over and turns off the bedside lamp. the room falls into soft darkness.
she holds you tighter, like sheâs afraid the morning light will steal this moment.
you fall asleep like that- tangled together, skin against skin, hearts still racing even as exhaustion finally wins.
two rivals. two fools. completely consumed.
and for tonight, at least, thatâs enough.
âž»
fin .

















