Clueless- Alexia Putellas

Summary: Alexia needs someone to control. Y/n's a liar who needs money.

Warnings: mentions sub/dub relationship dynamics, power imbalance; nothing sexually explicit though.

infos: escort!reader

..

It was the preseason before the Euros, and Alexia Putellas needed a distraction.

Alexia had always been calm, collected and composed, both in and outside of the pitch.

On the surface, she was everything anyone could ever aspire to be: a focused captain that you could trust with anything, a caring daughter, a thoughtful sister, and a skilled player.

But none of it felt like enough anymore. Not with so much piling onto her shoulders that some days, she genuinely had to remind herself to breathe. Like her lungs forgot how to work under pressure, like she had to fight for the air coming in through her nostrils.

Sleep wasn't as easy as it was a few months back. Alexia couldn't quite place when it had started; she just noticed things were off when she found herself lying awake on her bed for hours, even before decisive matches.

She was restless. People started to notice. First her teammates, then her mom. It had become physical, the purple marks below her eyes, her skin that looked more pale than usual because she didn't want to go out as much.

That was when she started inviting girls over. They were momentary figures in her sheets, gone before the sun was even up, getting out of her bed with scattered clothes in their hands, begging Alexia to let them stay.

She never did.

Now, they were just names she didn't bother to remember. Faces she couldn't recognise anywhere.

But they did help Alexia for a while. Alexia was always very clear with what she wanted: someone who could take orders, someone who was going to do exactly what she expected them to.

Most of the girls Alexia had in her bed were nice, obedient. Some of them were proper brats, purposely going out of their way to provoke Alexia, thinking it was all a game.

But for Alexia, it never was.

The moment some girls started to act as if Alexia were a brat tamer, she would quickly ask them to leave. She didn't get off when they tried to push her buttons, when they tried to get her attention in any way possible.

She just wanted someone docile, dutiful, and pliant.

And she wasn't going to find that in one of those stupid clubs her sister was always dragging her to, or in one of those coffees the younger girls on the team would drag her to.

And that's when Alexia had an idea, a brilliant one, too. She tried to ignore it for a few days, tried to tell herself that she couldn't, shouldn't follow it. That she was Capitana, that she had a reputation and a name to honour, and that the idea could risk it all.

She pushed the idea away, she did nothing for two months. Especially after renewing her contract with Nike and signing a clause that said she was prohibited from taking part in any kind of scandals.

But after Barcelona had lost one of the games to Real Madrid and she had no one on her bed, ready to help her blow off some steam, that's when Alexia agreed to her own idea.

She needed company. Not a lover. Not a one-night stand. But someone who was there when she said so. Someone who listened. Obedient. Quiet. Someone is easily controlled. Not a brat, no, definitely not.

Just...a distraction,

That was when she found the girl.

It was late, almost one in the morning, when Alexia began to search for one of those evenings when the weight in Alexia's chest wouldn't let her sit still.

So she searched. She typed the words very slowly, hating how the word 'Escort' felt so dirty and demeaning.

Alexia ignored it as she looked through websites. Some were clearly frauds, others were focused on heterosexual relationships. Some weren't clear whether they would keep Alexia's privacy, others were way too secretive about their women.

She kept searching. She clicked. She Scrolled. Until she found the exact type of business she wanted. It was obviously an escort website, focusing on hiring women for sexual activities, but more importantly, sex scenes.

Alexia would be able to pay while keeping her name and security number private. There wouldn't be any evidence of the transaction.

What made Alexia less guilty about this whole thing was that the money would go straight to the bank accounts of the girl she picked. The website wasn't acting as a pimp, selling the girls out. They were there because they wanted to, because they also wanted to find someone to play in scenes ,too, all while making money.

Alexia had a lot of money, so she didn't mind.

It didn't take long for Alexia to find her.

No photo. No name. Just an age–young. The girl was a few years younger than Alexia, but legal, and listed clearly. That was enough, Alexia didn't care as long as the law and the girl didn't.

There was a short list of rules on the girl's profile, a series of dos and don'ts. It was detailed, filled with her own boundaries, her wishes, things she was open to negotiate and topics that were hard don'ts.

Alexia read it carefully. The same care she showed when she was faced with a very tactful team on the pitch. She read the girl's profile too, looked at her age again, then at the absent picture, and checked that the girl was from Barcelona.

Then she focused her attention on the list again. Alexia had never created this sort of list for herself; she just knew what she liked and what she didn't like, but as her eyes scanned the skin, she realised she had found the perfect one.

Submissive.

Open to dom/sub dynamics, both sexual and not.

Comfortable with discipline.

No group scenes. No exhibitionism.

Consent to restraints, spanking with belts and other objects, too.

It was everything Alexia hadn't known she was looking for. As if the girl behind that profile had materialised out of her dreams.

Alexia quickly clicked Contact. And wrote an email stating that she was interested in getting to know the girl, that their preferences matched and that the girl wouldn't have to worry about money. Alexia would make sure to deposit as soon as the girl agreed. It was direct. To the point.

A few days later, she got a reply, right after she was leaving a hard training session, sweat was dripping down her forehead, as the girls talked about some locker room gossip, Alexia was too tired to care about.

The girl wrote that they could arrange a meeting if Alexia agreed to pay half the amount up front. She finished saying that, if Alexia didn't wish to be with her at the end of their meeting, she would give the money back.

Alexia agreed. She made the payment inside her car, as she was ready to go home. The girl replied fast. She wrote 'Thank you for the payment' and said that Alexia could set a date up for them to meet, no matter the day or time.

She only had one condition: it had to be in a public space for her own safety.

Alexia didn't mind. She wanted to keep the whole 'relationship' as secret as possible, so she would much prefer their first date would be at her house, but the girl's condition was reasonable. Smart even.

After a very long time, Alexia was feeling something more than just...numbness.

..

Y/n was a liar.

She got in trouble a lot during her teenhood, not for lying, just for doing things her parents decided were wrong. The way she found to get around her parents' watchful eyes was to lie. Lying became the only way to keep her living the way she wanted.

It turned into a survival mechanism that she held tight to. She never lied to twist stories around for fun, or to make things greater than they were. No. She lied when she had to, when she needed to.

She got used to it. Didn't even feel it when a white, innocent lie would fall through her lips; she had grown accustomed to it.

So, it just felt appropriate that she would also lie on the consort website.

Y/n was in the last semester of college; she was studying biomedical sciences, hoping to get into medical school (which she did). She applied to Barcelona's University, did a test, an interview and was one of the few selected.

She was going to be in medical school in the fall.

The only problem? She didn't have money.

Barcelona's University didn't charge any form of tuition, but it didn't pay for housing, food or anything else, either. That meant Y/n had to find a way to live, to pay for the groceries and for the bills that were piling up.

She had worked in bars and coffee shops, she babysat and pet sat more times than she could count. Her side jobs were okay, they paid enough for Y/n to have a decent living.

But then her parents decided not to parent anymore, and Y/n ended up with her fourteen-year-old sister to take care of as well.

Two mouths to feed were a lot, especially when said mouth was a growing teen.

Y/n didn't care if she had to skip a meal or two. But she definitely would not make Catalina go through that as well.

She did what she had to do. She stepped up and began looking for a new job, one that paid more. One that could cover the rent, one that would get Catalina proper shoes.

She wasn't embarrassed about how her eyes lit up when she saw an advertisement about how some site (that Y/n had never heard about) was looking for escorts.

She didn't wait too long to contact the site. They quickly allowed her to sign in as an escort, and as they did, they gave her two options.

One. Being an escort purely for show. She wasn't expected to do anything sexual with whoever hired her.

Second. An escort would be expected to perform sexual acts, but, of course, everything within her limits.

Option number two paid more. Y/n picked that one.

Y/n was then met with a list, one she was supposed to fill with her preferences and boundaries. She had to search what most of those things meant.

She had never participated in anything related to BDSM in her life. Never.

That was her first lie.

The biggest one until now, too. But she got to it, she filled the form with dos and don'ts about things she didn't even get close to doing.

Y/n wasn't completely inexperienced, but she was rather vanilla. She only had two sexual partners, both girls she met in college.

It was sweet, simple and efficient. Nothing rough, nothing wild. They never got to use any toys either, no vibrator... no nothing.

But Y/n needed to check as many boxes as she could.

There were higher chances of her finding someone if she said yes to more stuff, right?

She had only said no to actions that would be too distressing for her.

She would get a fourth side job to get Catalina her schoolbooks, but she would not participate in watersports.

Yes. She had to Google it.

Yes. She regretted it immensely.

..

Her second lie came as she was putting on a dress.

It was a black one, long, showing no clavicle; it was tight, just right, not enough to make her feel like she was vacuum-sealed. She had bought the goddamn dress when she was working as an Event server a few months ago.

"Where are you going?" Catalina asked, her glasses too big for her face.

"I have work tonight." This one lie didn't hurt to say because it was kinda true. Y/n was getting ready for work, just not a work that was very much accepted. But still, people paid.

Catalina just didn't need to know the nature of her job, not yet.

Plus, Y/n wasn't even sure if the woman was going to like her enough to sign the whole deal. Maybe she would look at Y/n and decide she wasn't right for her.

Maybe she would look Y/n in the eyes and see that she had never been in a BDSM scene, that she didn't know what she was doing.

That it was all pretend.

She didn't mind pretending, though.

"I thought you said you weren't going to get any more jobs?" She sat on the edge of Y/n's bed. "Because you failed your last test, remember? You were too tired to study?"

Y/n hated when Catalina brought that forsaken test up. It was a molecular biology class, and Y/n had slept through her alarm clock – she had been up till late tending the bar a few streets up – when she woke up, she was 30 minutes late.

She failed the test badly, and she was too shy to ask the professor for a second chance, so she just accepted the 30/100 she got.

Y/n looked through her lipstick options, there weren't a lot, maybe four, one of them had expired two years ago, but there was enough there for Y/n to use, so she wasn't going to throw it away. She questioned if she should go for red, but it seemed too bold.

"If everything goes right tonight," Y/n said, putting on her last bit of make-up and looking at her younger sister through the mirror. "Then I'll only keep this one job."

"No more babysitting the twins downstairs?" Catalina teased. "Hmm, I think I'll miss you coming back with your face filled with sharpie drawings."

"No more drawing on my face while I nap, nope", Y/n answered, turning around. "And this one pays good too, maybe we can finally get you some proper glasses, one that fits."

The girl pouted. "I like my glasses."

"Of course you do," Y/n rolled her eyes, taking a step further and hugging her sister. "You just like them because they were mine first."

Y/n was ready to leave through the door. She had already told Catalina the usual: "Don't open the door to anyone", "If something happens call the police and then call me," "Don't eat all the snacks."

Catalina was accustomed to being left alone at the house. Y/n always had to work during the night, so Catalina learned to fend for herself.

She said she didn't mind, but Y/n felt guilty.

A fourteen-year-old shouldn't spend all nights alone in a broken-down apartment. But it was what they had right now, and it was going to be enough.

As Y/n took the metro (the taxi was too expensive) she thought of who she was going to be.

She needed to be sweet and gentle, which was okay, she was like that normally. If the woman wanted something bolder, then she would have to pretend to be confident, a bit more spirited.

She needed to meet the woman first, and then she analysed who the person needed her to be. At this point in her life, Y/n didn't care to just play her part.

It was all just going to be another big lie.

..

The third lie came when Y/n found herself face to face with the woman who had just deposited twenty-five hundred euros into her account.

Alexia Putellas.

When she first made contact with, Y/n had not known it was the Alexia. The email didn't have a name, just a time, place and the transfer.

So she was more than surprised when she walked into the restaurant, Amar Barcelona, a five-star restaurant, and saw that who was sitting there was Spain and Barcelona's captain.

Their table was in a private area.

No one else was around.

Y/n froze.

Y/n wasn't a fan, didn't keep up with football or any sport beyond occasional tennis matches. But one didn't need to be a fan to recognise Alexia Putellas.

It was impossible to live in Barcelona and not know her.

La reina. That's what they called her.

Alexia must have sensed her presence because she looked up from the menu. Y/n felt her eyes running up and down her body.

Then, in a swift motion, Alexia rose to her feet. She was a bit taller than Y/n, not a lot, just enough to be a little intimidating, just enough to unsettle.

"Good evening," Alexia said. " Let's start, sí?"

She sounded formal. Should Y/n be formal too? Maybe...they should shake hands, at least?

Alexia took one step closer and pulled the other chair from the table, She pointed at it with her chin. "Sit."

Her tone was soft, almost gentle, but it didn't leave any room for arguing or disagreement.

Y/n did what she asked, she sat and felt as Alexia put the chair back in place, as if Y/n weighed nothing. Y/n felt the table against her rib. Alexia had pressed her too tightly, but she wasn't going to say anything.

Alexia was authoritative.

It made Y/n nervous.

She wasn't used to being talked to like that. it didn't bring any bad feelings, though. It was just weird. Different.

"I'm Alexia," she said, so casually it almost sounded like a joke.

Why was she presenting herself? Wasn't that obvious already?

Alexia looked at her, as if waiting for something.

Oh. Right. Her name.

"I–I prefer not to share my real name" Y/n said, saying every word slowly just like she had practised at home. "Not for now, at least."

She had promised herself she wasn't going to share her real name with whoever had chosen her. Not in the beginning.

Alexia didn't seem like a crazy person. But still, Y/n had to be careful... her name was also intertwined with Catalina's, and the last thing Y/n was going to do was put her in danger.

Alexia lifted her eyebrows as she leaned back into her chair. She didn't expect that answer.

"Okay," Alexia said. "What should I call you, then?"

Alexia didn't shy away from eye contact, her hazel eyes were burning Y/n.

It made her feel small. She didn't know what to answer, didn't know what she should be called.

She looked away. Silence.

"I asked you a question," Alexia's voice was colder now. What should I call you?"

Y/n quickly found her way back to Alexia's face, she studied it, trying to read her. Her lips were pressed thin, but not so much that you couldn't see them.

Her brows were knit together in a way that said she was annoyed.

Great. First time meeting Alexia, the woman who was supposed to hire her, and she was already slacking.

Alexia wanted answers. Quick and clean, with no hesitation. Y/n swallowed. She figured she better become exactly that.

"You can pick," Y/n said. "Whatever you wanna call me is fine."

Alexia nodded, just once.

"You think too much, cariño," she said. "And take too long to speak."

Cariño.

Y/n felt the word land softly in her ear, especially sweet coming from someone as reserved as Alexia.

She smiled. Just a bit. Just enough for Alexia to see that she liked the nickname. Not that it would have mattered if she hadn't. She'd given the player the green light to call her whatever she wanted.

"I'm sorry," Y/n said. "I've never done this before."

Alexia raised one brow. "Been in a restaurant?"

Y/n rolled her eyes (mentally). She had a feeling Alexia wouldn't appreciate it if she actually did.

"No," she said, waving her hands. "This sort of talk, I mean."

"First time escorting?" Alexia asked.

"Yes", Y/n replied, quicker now. She hoped Alexia liked that she hadn't been with anyone else–well, at least not in this way. "Is it that obvious?"

"No, but you're nervous. Haven't stopped moving your hands since you've got here," she said bluntly. "I don't want you to be nervous."

Y/n looked down at her hands. They were shaking a little. She put them under the tablecloth, taking them away from Alexia's vision. "Okay, I won't"

She was definitely going to keep being nervous, she was just going to get better at pretending she wasn't. Alexia's presence was intimidating.

"Good," Alexia reached for the menu, then passed it across the table to her. The leather folder was warm from her hands. "Pick whatever you want,"

"And f you wish to make it official–" The blonde paused, placing her elbows on the table, talking business now. "-eat something light."

Y/n blinked.

"We can go to my place after this," Alexia added, like it was the most casual thing in the world, as if she were just offering Y/n a ride.

Y/n's stomach sank even further. That was a lot of information to process.

First: not a single dish on that menu resembled real food. Where was the pasta? The chicken? Caesar salad? Instead, she had Orecchio di elefante schnitzel with poached egg and truffle. What even was that?

Second: go to her house?! Oficial? What was happening? Why did Alexia have to deliver things so forthrightly?

Y/n didn't expect it to escalate tonight. Not like this. Fuck, she was wearing her old underwear. And now she was apparently heading to Alexia Putellas' house, where they would have sex. Kinky sex.

The type of sex Y/n knew nothing about. The kind Y/n had lied on the website, saying she knew about it, that she was a connoisseur, even.

Fuck.

What if she didn't want to? What if she got there and Alexia started to kiss her, and she felt nothing? Y/n began to sweat, her foot was tapping on the floor, and her hand was slightly shaking.

So much for trying to hide how anxious she really was.

Y/n was an escort now. She couldn't get nervous about the idea of sex! This is what she agreed on; it was what she had signed up for when she logged into the site and offered her company and her body for the exchange of money.

"We don't have to."

Alexia's voice pulled Y/n out of her thoughts. Y/n looked from the menu to Alexia.

Her face was expressionless.

"W-what?" Y/n blinked.

We don't have to?

Her stomach dropped. Did Alexia not want to keep this going? Was she backing out? Ending everything before it even began?

No, no, no, that wasn't good. She couldn't afford that. Not when Catalina needed some good shoes, and the rainy season was just starting.

"We don't have to go to my house," Alexia explained. "Not if you don't want to. I just thought there would be a better place for us to talk about things in more detail."

Ok, okay. Then she still wanted Y/n. She could fix it. She was going to be honest now.

"I'm not ready for a scene yet," Y/n blurred, heat rushing to her cheeks..

Had she used the right term?

Alexia absolutely couldn't know Y/n knew nothing about BDSM. It was stated in Alexia's contract that her escort was aware and had practised BDSM before.

Y/n hadn't.

"We aren't going to do any scenes," Alexia said slowly. "Not for some time."

Y/n was caught by surprise.

"Why?" she tilted her head.

Alexia furrowed her eyebrows.

"What do you mean, why? We barely know each other," Alexia said. "We've got a long way to go before we're comfortable, sí? I need to trust you–and more importantly, you need to trust me."

"Oh," Y/n said. "Yes, sorry. You're right." She looked down.

Alexia didn't say anything. She just turned her attention back to the menu. "Do you know what you want?" she asked, eyes still on the page.

"No," Y/n admitted. "I... I don't really know what half of these dishes are."

Alexia hummed. "Do you like brut wine?"

Y/n nodded automatically, but she had no idea what brut wine meant. As far as she knew, wine was supposed to be either red, white or rosé.

"Great, is my favourite," Alexia said as she pressed a small button on the table, and seconds later, a waitress stepped into the room.

"Hello, Miss Putellas," the girl said. She looked nervous to be speaking with Alexia. Y/n didn't feel so alone. "How can I help you?"

"I want a bottle of wine, Dom Pérignon Pinot Noir, Chardonnay," Alexia said. "Sautéed clams and portobello mushrooms for her. Smoked salmon and caviar bikini for me."

The girl wrote it down carefully, then swiftly disappeared from the private room.

..

Alexia took a minute to observe the girl sitting in front of her; the girl whose name she didn't know, the girl who looked far too agitated to be an escort.

Her shoulders were tense, her eyes darting every time one of the waitresses walked in to fill their glass of wine. She even tried to hide her hands from Alexia, but she could feel the way her fingers were twitching under the table.

She looked apprehensive. She expected to be reprimanded by Alexia at any second.

Alexia would not. Not for now, at least. Alexia enjoyed a good scolding; she got off on a good reprehension and discipline.

The feeling of control that came with it, the tension, the narrow silence that followed it. Being obeyed because she was right and the other person should just listen to her...it all felt like a drug to Alexia

But none of that could happen until the full contract was signed. The one that allowed Alexia to do so, that gave her full permission.

Alexia didn't associate well with the word 'dom'; she thought it was rather ridiculous, even though it matched exactly what she was and how she felt. She didn't like to use it though, it felt too much like a cliché, too real.

If she didn't use the word, then her desires were just that: deep and private yearning.

Alexia was looking for someone who would obey her, someone who would sit quietly at her side while she watched a movie, quiet because Alexia told her to be, someone she could take care of mentally and physically.

Someone who would let her lead.

When the girl first walked in, Alexia had been sure Cariño wasn't that girl at all. She seemed like she didn't know what she was doing there. Completely lost.

When she told Alexia it was her first time escorting, it all made sense.

She was probably, given her age, a college girl who envisioned that her interest in BDSM could become something more: a job, a way to make money.

But again...she looked young, too young to be here. She looked pretty, Alexia could not deny that. Her personality wasn't bad either.

She was very awkward, but it looked like she was really trying to be polite and gracious. Not bratty at all, too, she hadn't said anything witty or done anything to rile Alexia up.

Alexia could see herself going on more dates with her, maybe take her to some coffee shop, outside of Barcelona, somewhere she wouldn't be recognised.

The only thing that was bothering Alexia was how the girl seemed clueless about everything.

She did't know how to behave in five-star restaurants; she didn't know how to have a proper conversation with Alexia, and didn't even know how to eat clams.

Alexia was eating her salmon with the same demeanour she always carried, cutting it cleanly.

The girl across from her was...stabbing the clam with her fork. As if it were a piece of red meat, its shell even had scratch marks from the fork.

Alexia let her try again before quietly placing a spoon (that the waitress had given her for the clam) at the edge of the girl's plate.

"Use this," she said. "You won't get much done with the fork."

The girl looked embarrassed as she accepted the cutlery, holding it as if it were something precious.

Cute. She looked cute.

Maybe Alexia liked clueless.

..

A/n: wanted to try and write something a bit different.

The restaurant mentioned really exists and it's in Barcelona. I copied their menu into the fic.