Work Text:
“¿Todo bien?”
Mapi’s lilting voice stopped Ona in her tracks. Ingrid snickered at her side as the two women continued down the hall of the hotel, glancing back at her and Lucy with cheeky grins.
Her face paled as Lucy stopped a few paces ahead and turned to fix her with a smug grin of her own.
“I told you to be quiet.”
Ona glared daggers at her before marching forward and shoving Lucy out of her path as her laugh resonated through the hall.
##
Ona hated away game days. She hated sitting upright for long periods of time, confined to the tight spaces of trains, planes, and buses. Even at her short stature, she was never able to extend her legs fully and she knew pacing up and down the aisles was a good way to get shouted at by her teammates. It really messed with the strict movement regimen that kept her muscles warm and engaged in the lead-up to games.
Granted, tomorrow’s fixture wasn’t expected to be the team’s toughest victory by far, but Ona never let that influence her preparation. Discipline was essential to a winning mentality, and Ona was nothing if not a winner. Needless to say, she was the first one off the bus once they finally parked at the training facility.
She was doing high knees across the parking lot when Lucy finally trailed off of the bus with a backpack and two jackets in tow.
“You forgot something, crazy,” she called, tossing Ona her jacket as she continued to hop down the pavement without sparing Lucy a glance.
“Thanks,” she replied between sharp, measured breaths.
Lucy shook her head in fond disbelief as she turned to go retrieve their bags from under the bus.
“I feel like my hamstrings are tight,” Ona declared as they passed through the threshold of the tunnel. Their late training session had just wrapped up at the host team’s grounds and she and Lucy were the first to peel off towards the locker rooms.
Lucy rolled her eyes playfully, sliding a hand up Ona’s sweat-dampened back to massage the nape of her neck. “Now you’re just in your head, love.”
“No, I’m serious,” she hissed, stopping to bend over and run her hands along the tight muscles. Lucy turned to face her with an exasperated sigh.
“Let’s get to the changing rooms, yeah? I’ll help you stretch,” she offered.
All of the sudden, Ona was standing up straight as an arrow and striding past Lucy with an air of forced nonchalance.
“No, no. It’s not that bad,” she insisted as her girlfriend jogged to catch up with her.
“What?” Lucy sing-songed, slinging an arm around her shoulders. Ona didn’t have to look up to know she wore a teasing smirk. “You don’t want my help?”
Ona crossed her arms over her chest, keeping her eyes trained forward as she mumbled under her breath, “Not in front of the girls.”
Lucy cooed in mock-sympathy and thumbed over her chin. “You don’t want the girls to see me stretching you out?”
Her cheeks burned as she shoved Lucy away roughly, sending the older woman into a fit of giggles.
“Grow up,” she grumbled, employing her new favorite phrase to use on her girlfriend. It came in handy all too often what with Lucy’s childish antics.
“Fine, stretch yourself out. See if I care,” Lucy added, much to Ona’s chagrin. She pushed through the door to the locker room only to let it fall shut on Lucy who trailed a few steps behind her.
The woman’s triumphant snicker followed her into the room as Ona shed her training top. She felt Lucy drop a kiss on the back of her sweaty neck as she passed behind her. Ona bit back a smile, crouching down to untie her boots.
She carried on agonizing over each and every shift of her muscles as they made their way from the locker rooms to the bus, the bus to the hotel. Ona could feel Lucy’s watchful eyes on her as she stretched each leg behind her back, waiting for her to unlock the door to their room.
“Babe, relax,” she urged, holding the door open for Ona to enter. “You’re not helping yourself.”
She couldn’t relax. That was the problem. The team had been so rife with injuries lately that Ona found herself more paranoid than ever about suffering a premature end to her first season back home. Preventative measures had always worked for her and her teammates constantly told her she was the least injury-prone player they knew, but that little voice in the back of her head reminded her that all it took was one shaky step or one weakened muscle for something to give out. It was an all-consuming loop of fear that she struggled to break free of once it started.
Lucy let the door fall shut behind her and set their bags on the bench at the foot of the bed before gesturing to the floor.
“Lie down.”
Ona’s eyes flickered between the hideous gray carpet and Lucy’s unreadable expression. She squinted in suspicion.
“No way.”
“Come on. You’ll feel better. No games, I swear.”
Ona huffed out a sigh and toed her shoes off before heeding Lucy’s request and lying down on the floor beside the bed. Lucy joined her after shedding her jacket, kneeling in front of her bent legs.
She took her right leg first, slinging it over her shoulder easily and pressing forward at a gradual pace. Lucy paid careful attention to the changes in her expression, easing back a bit when Ona started to wince and pulsing forward when she gave the go ahead. When Ona’s thigh was flush with her abdomen, Lucy ran a gentle hand up and down her outer leg.
“Good?” She asked, face mere inches from Ona’s. Ona averted her eyes, glancing between their bodies instead, which didn’t do much to help the blood rushing to her cheeks.
“Yeah,” she breathed. Miraculously, Lucy’s face remained neutral as she eased the limb back and shifted it off her shoulder to exchange it for her left.
She went slower this time, pulsing forward steadily with her hips pressed to the back of Ona’s thigh. A hand slid firmly up her calf, straightening out her knee bit by bit to get a good stretch in her hamstring.
Ona tried to focus on the pleasant burn of her muscles, but having her girlfriend between her legs was more than a little distracting. Having her leg thrown over her shoulder as strong hands gripped the tender flesh of her thigh was even worse. She blamed the endorphins from training as her mind traveled to the last time she had Lucy between her legs like this.
“Ona?”
Lucy’s voice penetrated her dizzying thoughts and Ona blinked up to find a smirk dancing on her lips.
“What?”
“I asked if it hurt,” she repeated, hovering over her as her weight bent Ona’s leg back as far as it would go.
“No,” Ona squeaked, voice pitching just above a whisper as she tried her best to maintain indifference. “Feels good.”
Lucy’s smirk widened at that, her sly gaze sending heat straight to the pit of Ona’s stomach.
“Yeah? Feels good?”
She turned her head to press her lips to the inside of Ona’s calf, nosing over the fabric of her trackies. Ona was just glad she had thrown on pants after practice because shorts would have had her damned from the start.
“Lucy,” she sighed, a mix of annoyance and sexual frustration coloring her tone.
“What is it, love?” She mused, feigning ignorance. “Want me to stop?”
Lucy started to ease back when Ona’s hand shot out to grab her sleeve.
She didn’t want Lucy to win, but the need burning deep in her belly overruled any ounce of pride she had left.
“Kiss me,” she mumbled under her breath, ashamed to admit defeat.
Lucy clicked her tongue in disapproval. “That wouldn’t be very professional, now would it?”
Ona rolled her eyes before shifting her leg off of Lucy’s shoulder and grabbing her by the collar to pull her in for a hurried kiss.
Her leg wrapped around Lucy’s waist instead, forcing her down until her full body weight pressed her into the floor. Hands traveled up under Ona’s top to drag over warm, sticky skin as their tongues met desperately.
“Quickly,” Ona moaned between kisses, directing one of Lucy’s hands towards the waistband of her pants.
In a rare show of mercy, Lucy obliged, slipping her fingers beneath layers of fabric until they found her heat. She smirked at the easy slide, trailing up to circle around Ona’s clit as she hummed in understanding.
“Is that why you don’t want the girls to see you like this?” She teased, adjusting the angle of her touch until Ona’s eyes fluttered shut prettily. “It turns you on, doesn’t it?”
Ona groaned in embarrassment and brought her hands up to hide her reddened cheeks. She knew Lucy could feel what she did to her as her fingers dipped lower to circle the sensitive ring of muscle at her entrance.
“Quiet, love,” she taunted in a hushed tone. “They’ll hear you.”
“Please, stop talking,” Ona begged, voice strained as she dragged her hands down her burning face.
“Stop, you said?” Even with her eyes squeezed shut, Ona could hear the smirk in Lucy’s voice. When the hand in her pants stilled, her eyes shot open.
“No, Lucy,” she whined in frustration. Any of her previous concerns about her hamstrings or potential injuries had melted away entirely. All she wanted now was to get off, and Lucy knew it.
Despite her protests, Lucy withdrew her hand and shuffled around until she had a knee slotted between Ona’s legs.
“Go on, then,” she said, kneeling above her with arms crossed smugly over her chest.
Ona threw her hands up in frustration, not understanding what she was meant to do. She knew her face was probably flushed and sheening with sweat and her hair was likely matted up in the back from writhing around on the carpet. She supposed it was only fitting that she looked as much of a mess as she felt.
Just when she opened her mouth to start pleading again, Lucy’s hands came down to grasp her hips and hike them forward. Ona yelped as the carpet burned against her lower back and her core collided with the firm muscle of Lucy’s thigh.
“You didn’t want my help, remember?” Lucy smirked, leaning forward with her hands planted on either side of Ona’s head as her hips began to stagger towards the pressure.
“You’re mean,” she mumbled petulantly. Her fists curled into the fabric of Lucy’s Nike t-shirt and the sports bra under it to anchor herself as she grinded against her leg, shifting her hips until she found an angle that made her neck crane back and jaw drop open.
“I’m mean?” Lucy repeated incredulously. “You turned me down earlier because you can’t control yourself in front of our teammates and yet I still let you get off on my leg. That makes me mean?”
Ona glared as her cheeks burned bright red. Lucy was infuriating when she got like this but she couldn’t deny that her scolding tone made arousal pool deep in her gut.
“Is it just me that makes you this wet or should I be worried every time I catch one of our teammates helping you stretch?”
“Lucy,” Ona groaned, turning her cheek to shy away from her girlfriend’s intense gaze. She was afraid to say the word stop again lest Lucy take away the delicious pressure helping her towards her mounting orgasm.
Lucy nudged her cheek back towards her with an amused grin. “Too far?”
She didn’t bother answering. Lucy knew that it wasn’t too far, that Ona reveled in being wound up and it only made her hips cant into the hard muscle of her leg that much faster.
Instead, she used her grip on Lucy’s top to pull her down for a heated kiss. Lucy shifted down to lean on her forearms, pressing her thigh straight to Ona’s center and making the girl moan softly into her mouth. Her muscles burned as she chased the friction, struggling to keep up the pace of her hips.
It wasn’t until Lucy began to rock her leg in time with Ona’s thrusts that she gasped and wound her arms tightly around Lucy’s neck, pressing their foreheads together.
“Me voy a correr,” she breathed, voice strained as she resorted to her native tongue. Lucy was all too familiar with the phrase by now and glided a hand down to help Ona’s hips rock against her faster and harder.
“Feels good, right?” Lucy hummed. “You deserve it, love. Let go for me.”
Ona clung to her, skin buzzing and hips trembling with the effort as her movements grew sloppy and desperate. She could feel Lucy’s feverish gaze on her as she panted into the space between them, the heat in her belly coiling rapidly until her whole body seized.
Throwing her head back, she couldn’t be bothered to stop the strangled moan ripped from her throat, the unmistakable noise ringing throughout the room until Lucy’s hand scrambled to cover her mouth.
“Ona,” she laughed in disbelief, frozen on top of her as Ona’s hips stuttered to work herself through her orgasm.
Her body soon deflated against the floor, Lucy’s palm muffling her remaining whimpers until they tapered off.
Ona’s hooded eyes blinked open to see Lucy’s stunned grin. She chuckled at the girl’s non-reaction to having just screamed out loud enough for the entire floor to hear.
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Sorry,” Ona mumbled as she removed Lucy’s hand from her mouth and kissed her fingertips sweetly.
Lucy huffed out another laugh as she sat up slowly, stretching her sore muscles and shuffling their limbs around until she sat back on her heels between the girl’s sprawled legs.
“You’d better hope everyone’s already downstairs.”
Ona just hummed happily, stretching her arms above her head and closing her eyes as if she were ready to take a nap right there on the coarse hotel carpet.
“Don’t care,” she slurred sleepily.
Lucy scoffed, knowing full well that that was the dopamine talking as she tugged at Ona’s sleeves, pleading with her to get up so they could shower off before dinner.
##
Sitting in the hotel dining room with Salma pointedly avoiding eye contact across from her, Ona felt an elbow jab into her bicep for the fifth time in a row.
“You’re not being very nice,” Lucy pouted as she leaned into Ona’s personal space, keeping her voice low so as not to exacerbate her humiliation.
She shoveled another spoonful of rice into her mouth, giving no indication that she even heard the woman at her side.
“Are you ever going to talk to me again?”
“No,” Ona replied matter-of-factly as she took a sip of water.
“She speaks,” Lucy whispered, the teasing grin audible in her voice. Ona stood abruptly and snatched her tray from the table.
Her skin prickled in irritation, Lucy and Salma’s giggles fading behind her as she marched across the room. She took her time tossing her plate into the trash, waiting for her cheeks to stop burning before trudging back towards the table. When she sat down with her arms crossed over her chest, ready to commit to giving Lucy the silent treatment for the rest of the night, her girlfriend’s hand came up to absently smooth over her upper back as she carried on talking to Salma about some Barça men’s match from the day before.
Content to have the attention off of her, Ona relaxed into her seat and let her mind wander, half listening to the conversation and half wondering what time she’d have to set her alarm for tomorrow morning.
Once the conversation had moved on to Vicky animatedly retelling a story about the Barça B girls running into Gavi after training one day, Ona felt more than saw Lucy lean over to cup her hand over her ear.
“Love you,” she whispered before drawing back just as quickly, hand resting on the back of Ona’s chair as she turned her attention to the younger players.
Ona failed to suppress a fond smile as she glanced over at her unchanged expression, heart blooming in her chest.
She supposed she could lose just this once.