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rmytears · 2 months ago

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○ alexia putellas x teen reader (reader has a name in this)

↳ warnings: no warnings.

A LITTLE HOT-HEADED.

If someone had to describe Maya, they'd probably get stuck on the first word that came to mind: difficult. Difficult to read, like a book in a language you don't understand; difficult to comprehend, like a puzzle with pieces that don't quite fit. Her gaze, often lost in deep thoughts, challenged anyone who tried to get close. And when she spoke, she did it with such sharp sarcasm that it could slice through the tension in the air. It was as if she enjoyed bewildering others, each hidden laugh and every frown part of a game where she always held the lead.

But there was another word that fit her: good. While her personality might have seemed like a maze, on the soccer field she shone with her own light. With the ball at her feet, she transformed. It was as if everything else disappeared and only she and the game existed. Obviously, she needed to improve—she was still very young—but she had potential, enough that trying to ignore it felt like an offense. Maya was good.

As the season progressed, her name began to echo among the first team players. "Have you seen this girl from the B team?" The words spread like ripples. And so, like foam, the rumors reached Alexia's ears, who couldn't ignore the stories about this girl everyone seemed interested in lately.

Intrigued, Alexia decided it was time to see this young promise for herself.

FC Barcelona B vs. RCD Espanyol. The match was going perfectly for the Blaugrana colors. The sun shone intensely on the grass, while the stands filled with a sea of blue and garnet shirts that vibrated with every touch of the ball. The B team players moved the ball with a fluidity that left the fans in a constant state of euphoria. With each pass, each run, it seemed the team was destined for a clear victory.

Maya sat on the bench, observing from her position. With the first half already consumed, her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. She had been training hard, waiting for her chance to shine, and that moment came when the coach called her to get ready.

However, as she settled into the game, a figure from the opposing team began to make herself noticed, making the atmosphere tense. The Espanyol player, a blonde with tight braids who seemed to have made a personal decision to make Maya's life impossible, started getting too close. Every time Maya received the ball, the opponent appeared like lightning, throwing discrete elbows and disguised stomps masked as legitimate plays. Alexia could see how Maya tried to concentrate, ignoring the provocations, but frustration began to show on her face.

"It's just football," she told herself while running across the field, trying to maintain calm amid the chaos. But her opponent's tricks didn't cease; the referee, with a distant and uncommitted look, seemed to have decided it wasn't his day to intervene. The fouls continued without punishment, and tension on the field increased. Maya noticed how the Espanyol player became increasingly aggressive, playing dirty, an elbow here, a push there.

With time running and the score still in Barça's favor, Maya found herself increasingly trapped in a mental game that wore her down. Alexia, from her position, could notice how the young player's patience was vanishing. The furtive glances Maya threw toward the referee became more accusatory, and her gestures of frustration more evident.

Finally, after a blatant push that left Maya staggering, something inside her clicked. In an instant of contained rage, she decided it was time to respond. With fierce determination, she launched herself at the Espanyol player with a tackle that resonated like thunder in the stadium. The contact was strong and direct, and the referee's whistle sounded like a war cry.

Maya's face turned from surprise to frustration at seeing the red card the referee raised toward her. Helplessness invaded her as the rest of the team halted their game, stunned by her expulsion. The crowd fell into a sepulchral silence, and whispers spread like an echo of disappointment.

Maya found herself alone in the dressing room, the echo of her steps resonating against the tiled walls as she walked to her locker. The coach's lecture still rang in her head—words about concentration and maintaining calm during critical moments of the game. She sighed deeply while dropping onto one of the benches.

"Hey." Vicky's voice pulled her from her thoughts. Her teammate was already changed and ready to leave, the sports bag hanging from her shoulder. "Don't take today's match so hard. You did well."

Maya just nodded, her fingers playing distractedly with her shoelaces.

"The girls are going for ice cream to celebrate the victory," Vicky continued, leaning against the doorframe. "Want to come?"

"I don't think I'm in the mood," Maya mumbled, forcing a small smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Suit yourself." Vicky shrugged. "See you tomorrow then."

Silence enveloped the dressing room again after Vicky's departure. Maya closed her eyes for a moment, letting the quietness wrap around her. But the peace didn't last long.

"Well, well. Does Barcelona's little star need a moment alone?"

Maya felt every muscle in her body tense at recognizing that voice. The Espanyol player—the same one who had been provoking her throughout the match—was standing behind her. She could feel her presence approaching, invading her personal space.

"What's wrong? Did coach's lecture leave you speechless?" The mocking voice drew closer until Maya could feel her breath on her neck.

It was as if something inside her exploded. In a quick movement, Maya turned and pushed the other player against the wall, her forearm pressing against her rival's chest.

"Don't mess with me," Maya growled, the words coming through clenched teeth. Her eyes sparkled with contained fury. "And for the record, you smell like crap."

A movement at the dressing room entrance caught her attention. Alexia was there, observing the scene with a mixture of surprise and concern on her face. Maya exhaled frustratedly, stepping back to her original spot while rubbing her temples with her fingers—a gesture that caught Alexia's attention, who wondered if it was a sign of stress or perhaps a headache.

Alexia observed both players for a moment before breaking the tense silence. "Is there a problem here?" she asked, her voice firm as she approached them.

The Espanyol player immediately adopted a victim expression. "She just attacked me," she declared with false innocence.

Maya felt her blood boiling again. She lunged forward, but this time found herself contained by Alexia's arms, who firmly surrounded her, forcing her to step back.

"Mara," Alexia's voice was soft but firm as she pulled her away. "Mara, listen to me."

But Maya wasn't looking at her. Her eyes, burning with rage and frustration, were fixed on the Espanyol player, who smiled with satisfaction at her reaction. The mocking smile only served to fuel her fury more, while Alexia's arms kept her in place, her voice repeating what the captain believed to be her name like a calming mantra that she could barely hear over the roar of blood in her ears.

Alexia turned toward the blonde who still remained there, planted as if her feet had grown roots into the locker room floor. Their eyes met briefly before Alexia spoke.

"This isn't your dressing room," she said, her voice firm but controlled. "You have no business here."

No more needed to be said. The rookie—because that's what she clearly was, indicated by her insecure posture and the way her eyes nervously jumped from side to side—took a step back, then another, until finally turning around and disappearing through the door without a word.

Maya broke free from Alexia's grip as if her touch burned. "Don't touch me," she snapped, turning her back to continue packing her things in the sports bag. Her movements were abrupt, almost violent, as she stuffed her belongings one by one.

Alexia didn't move. She stayed there, observing every gesture, every tense movement of Maya's shoulders. The silence grew thick, almost tangible, until Maya couldn't bear it anymore. She could feel the older player's gaze drilling into the back of her neck.

"Am I in trouble?" she asked without turning around, her voice rough as sandpaper. The question hung in the air, a clear reference to the scene Alexia had just witnessed.

"You're Mara, right?" Alexia responded, deliberately ignoring the question.

Maya snorted, turning just enough to throw her a sideways glance. "Why ask if you're so sure you know?"

"Are you always this defensive?"

Alexia's question went unanswered. Maya returned to her task, stuffing her shin guards into the bag with more force than necessary. The locker room sank into silence interrupted only by the rustle of clothing and the metallic clicking of zippers.

"I saw you playing today," Alexia broke the silence again. "You're good."

Maya's hands stopped for an instant. It was Alexia Putellas saying it, after all. The same Alexia whom all the team's girls idolized, whose name was synonymous with excellence in women's football.

"Thanks," Maya mumbled, so low it almost seemed the words had been carried away by the locker room's air conditioning.

"But it doesn't matter how good you are," Alexia continued, "if you can't control your temper, you won't get anywhere."

Those words were like a switch. Maya spun around, her blue eyes shining with indignation. "I don't have any temper or anything to control."

"Well, that's not what I saw when I walked in," Alexia responded with a calmness that markedly contrasted with Maya's agitation.

"You don't know anything," Maya rolled her eyes, but the gesture didn't entirely hide the tension in her jaw.

Alexia tilted her head, studying the younger player's face. She observed how the furrowed brow made her freckle-sprinkled nose wrinkle slightly. There was something fascinating about that rebellion. She sat on the bench, the wood creaking softly under her weight.

"Then enlighten me," she said, leaning forward. "What was happening with that girl?"

"And why exactly should I tell you?"

The question made the corners of Alexia's lips curve slightly. It was refreshing, she had to admit. While most young players looked at her with a mixture of nervousness and reverential admiration, Maya seemed immune to her presence. There was no trace of typical adulation in her eyes, just a direct, unfiltered challenge.

Alexia rose from the bench with a fluid movement, running her palms over her pants in an automatic gesture. "You really are good, Mara," she said, heading toward the door. "Try not to let it go to your head."

She was about to leave when a murmur reached her ears.

"It's Maya."

Alexia stopped dead in her tracks. "Excuse me?"

"It's not Mara, it's Maya," the young player repeated, her voice clearer this time, though she still had her back turned.

"Maya," Alexia repeated, nodding slightly before crossing the doorway, leaving behind a silent locker room and a Maya who, for the first time since the exchange began, allowed her shoulders to relax.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni #barcelona femeni

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