Chapter Text
No one in Barcelona could help but feel bad for Alexia.
The team captain had been a shadow of her usual self for the past few months and, making it worse, there was neither a simple explanation nor a simple solution. Naturally, the likelihood of missing out on nearly the entire season was messing with her mind, as well as the possibility that she would not be fit enough in time to go to the World Cup. Combine that with the amount of players- many of whom she had considered good friends- who had moved on to other clubs in the summer, and things only got worse. Not to mention that they had failed to win the Champions’ League, instead finding themselves humiliated by Lyon in a loss that still kept Alexia up at night.
Add in the fact that Jenni had gone, had decided that the unstable relationship with Alexia, changing so fast that it made their teammates dizzy, was no longer healthy for either of them, and had put as much distance as she could between herself and the woman she had never been able to let go of before, no matter how many times Alexia broke her heart, and it was all too much for the recently crowned best player in the world.
No Ballon d’Or could make her ACL not torn. No Ballon d’Or could give her the Champions’ League trophy. And no Ballon de fucking Or could bring Jenni back to her.
It was all too much.
She hadn’t meant to become the angry, growling goblin that frightened younger players in the lockers. She hadn’t meant to stalk around with a chip on her shoulder, feeling sorry for herself and worrying until she couldn't think about anything except how tired of worrying she was. She hadn’t meant to push people away from her, rejecting every offer of companionship or a shoulder to cry on. It had just sort of… happened.
As they watched Alexia gather up her things after another training session, two of Spain’s most experienced players knew that it was time to act. This couldn’t go on- for the sake of the team, yes, but mostly for Alexia herself, because the midfielder was walking a knife's edge.
Marta, who had taken back the captain’s mantle after Alexia’s injury, met Irene’s eyes from across the room. They’d talked thoroughly about what they were going to do last night, and watching their teammate stomp her way through her rehab routine today had only strengthened their resolve. That didn't mean it would be easy, though.
“Alexia,” said Irene calmly, not letting any trace of her own nerves out in her voice. “Can you come here please? Marta and I would like to talk to you for a minute.”
“Mmhm,” said Alexia in brusque acknowledgement, turning around and walking as quickly as her leg would allow to sit on the bench. Most of the players had cleared out by now, but a few still looked on curiously as Alexia sat down, Irene and Marta taking the spots on either side of her. The Spanish captain sent a look around the room, silently dismissing them.
“What?”
Alexia looked back and forth, confused and annoyed. Irene had said that she wanted to talk, but so far there didn’t seem to be any talking going around. Which meant that this was a waste of her time.
“I don’t appreciate that tone, Alexia,” said Marta calmly, making the younger woman bristle and narrow her eyes. But before she could voice her protest, Marta continued.
“You will find out what in just a minute. We just thought that you might rather have this conversation in private. ”
The emphasis she placed on the last word was enough to send the rest of the lingering players scampering from the room, none of them eager to get caught in a situation like the one they could sense brewing. Marta knew there would be chatter, especially among the younger girls, trying to figure out what was going on, but she would deal with that later. Right now, she had bigger problems.
“What the hell is going on?”
Alexia’s raised voice indicated her displeasure- she could tell that this wasn’t a situation where Irene or Marta was going to defer to her, and the feeling of panic which always accompanied not being in control of the situation began to rise in her tightening chest. Irene, noticing her starting to breathe more heavily, took her hands in her own, thumbs stroking soothingly over her knuckles.
“Alexia, sweetheart,” she said gently, wishing that she could pull the younger woman into a hug but knowing that that part had to come later. “I say this with all the love and respect in the world for you, as my teammate and friend. But you need to pull it together. I know these past few months have been hard for you. I know that you’re scared, and you’re hurting very badly, but you’re not acting like the person we know you are. You're not acting like the Alexia we know and love. You’re lashing out and pushing people away. You're a leader on this team, and you know it, but you're certainly not acting like a leader right now. It’s not acceptable, love, and we know that you’re so much better than this.”
Alexia opened her mouth and closed it again, not sure what to say. She wanted to protest, to get to her feet and yell at Marta and Irene, tell them to mind their own business, deny everything they had just said. But, whether she was simply too stunned to find the words or if some part of her knew that everything Irene had just said was true, all she could do was open and close her lips, wordlessly arguing.
Irene could see the conflicting emotions warring across her teammate’s face, expression shifting from anger to rage to sadness to confusion and fear and back to anger. She tried to keep hold of Alexia’s hands, knowing that the midfielder was going to be even less happy with what was coming next, but Alexia tore them free before she could react.
“And so,” said Marta firmly, continuing where Irene had left off, just as they had planned. “Irene and I have been talking about how to deal with you and this little pity party you’ve been throwing yourself. And we’ve decided that the only way to handle someone throwing a childish tantrum with no thought for how it might affect themselves and others is to treat them exactly how we would treat a child.”
“F-Fuck you!”
Alexia had managed to find her voice by this point, outraged at what she was hearing but unable to respond with anything more creative than “fuck this. I’m going home.”
“Alexia,” said Marta sternly, voice darkening at the rude response from the younger player. “I’ll give you one chance to get over my knee like a good little girl, or else I will put you there myself.”
The blood froze in Alexia’s veins as she realized what Marta meant. Shaking her head quickly, she turned around to try and make a break for it, only for Irene’s arms to wrap around her, the national team captain holding on as gently as she could while still making sure Alexia didn’t go anywhere.
“Alexia,” said Marta after taking a deep breath, knowing that the reaction from her teammate was only going to intensify. “You are getting a spanking. Whether or not you make it easier or harder for yourself is up to you. But it's happening.”
The first tears of rage and humiliation stung the back of Alexia’s eyes as she shook her head, unable to quite believe the situation in which she found herself. She brushed them away furiously, refusing to let her teammates see her cry, especially right now.
“N-No,” she growled, trying and failing to keep her voice steady. “F-Fuck this, I… I’m not a child, you c-can’t just-”
“If you’re not a child,” said Marta. “You’d better stop acting like one. Starting by getting over my lap and taking the punishment you know you deserve. I’d prefer if you just take it, but I will have Irene hold you down if I have to.”
Alexia blinked away more furious tears- she was not going to cry. She kept shaking her head, anticipating the humiliation of being spanked like a child, unwilling to just accept it. A noise sounded somewhere in the building, making Alexia jump- she didn't know what she would do if there was anyone else here, if anyone saw her like this-
The momentary distraction was all Irene needed to hoist her up into her arms and deposit her on Marta’s lap, the defenders working quickly to position her across her knees. Even as she realized what was happening, that there was likely no escape now, the midfielder couldn’t help but try and wriggle her way free, pleas that she was normally too proud to utter falling from her lips at breakneck speed.
“N-No, Marta, please,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, to not let any more humiliated tears escape. “Please, I’ll be good, I’m sorry, please. I'm not... I don't... don't need-”
“I know you are,” said the current Barcelona captain, not without sympathy. “But we need you to learn your lesson here.”
“It’s okay to cry,” said Irene softly, taking Alexia’s hands in her own again. She was on the verge of tears herself- she knew they were doing the right thing, but that didn’t make it any easier to see Alexia fighting against it, trying to pretend that this wasn’t happening, still struggling- albeit weakly- as Marta pulled her bottoms down, letting them fall to her ankles. The midfielder flushed bright red as she was exposed to the locker room, thankfully empty except for the two older women.
Alexia clamped her mouth shut, refusing to cry out as the first strike fell. She felt the angry tears lingering beneath the surface trying to break free again, this time in the form of pure humiliation, the anger draining out of her. She couldn’t believe she was here, held over Marta’s lap like a misbehaving child. Sure, she knew that she hadn’t been the most pleasant to be around over the past few months, but she- she-
Another spank came down, this one landing in the center of her left cheek. The same gesture was repeated on the right, each one getting progressively harder as Marta punished her, not holding back as she gave Alexia the punishment she knew she needed. Irene was silent as she held her hands around the wrists, stopping her from reaching backwards to cover her ass. It was starting to hurt now, as the blows moved from her cheeks to her sit spots and her upper thighs. She wanted this to be over, she wanted to go crawl into a hole and die, she didn’t want to start crying again!
But cry she did, the pain and humiliation of being spanked like a naughty little girl finally forcing the tears free all at once.
“S-S-Sorryyy,” she wailed, tears falling down her cheeks as Marta continued to spank her. “P-Please, ‘m s-sorry, w-w-won’ do it again, ow! Ow!”
Irene and Marta locked eyes, communicating wordlessly. When Marta’s hand came down again, it was for the final time. Irene released Alexia’s hands and the midfielder just lay there, draped across Marta’s lap, crying her eyes out, whimpering out apologies.
“Oh, Alexia,” cooed the older defender as Irene raced off to get a bottle of water. “It’s okay, darling, it’s all done. You’re okay. You’re safe and loved. I'm right here.”
There was no movement for another moment, and for a second Marta was afraid that she may have gone too far.
But then, the words of comfort breaking through her tough exterior, Alexia buried her face in Marta’s shoulder, continuing to cry out apologies. She clung to her teammate for comfort as the Barcelona captain rubbed her back soothingly. Neither cared that Alexia’s bottoms had fallen from her ankles onto the ground, leaving her half-naked on her teammate’s lap.
“Oh, little one. Sweet, sweet girl, I’m right here. Let it all out. You did so good, Alexia. You’re okay, it’s all over now. You did so good for us, it's all forgiven.”
Irene, returning with the water, sat back down on the bench beside her teammates. While Marta rocked the midfielder gently in her arms, she took Alexia’s chin in her hand, gently guiding her tearstained face away from the other's shoulder, and held up the water bottle.
“Can you drink some water for us, darling? Oh, there’s a good girl,” she said, not sure if it was the praise or the remaining embarrassment from her predicament that made Alexia’s blush deepen. Either way, she didn’t let Alexia take the bottle from her, rather lifting it herself to her teammate’s lips and helping her take small sips.
“We’re right here,” said Marta. “It’s all done. Now, can I talk to you for a moment?”
All Alexia could do was nod, tension draining out of her, willing to accept any talking as long as she didn't need to leave the warm embrace, the comfort which, after the spanking that she was realizing upon its completion that she had desperately needed, made her feel almost loved again. And not in the abstract way where a crowd cheered for her as she picked up an award, or when the younger girls looked up at her with a sort of reverence. In the real way, where it was okay to not be okay because someone had her.
“Now, Alexia,” said Marta, voice still calm and soothing but with a more serious tone, leaving no room for anything other than an honest answer.
“Can you tell me why we needed to give you a spanking today?”
“I was acting like a child,” whispered the midfielder, shame-faced as she considered how she had been acting the past few weeks. “And being mean.”
“That’s part of it,” said Irene, feeding Alexia another little sip from the water bottle before setting it aside to put both hands on Alexia's tearstained face. “But more than that, honey, it was because you were hurting yourself through how you were acting. I know you’re in a lot of pain right now, but that doesn’t give you an excuse to act like you’ve been acting. I know you don’t like to feel out of control, but that’s part of life. And it’s not acceptable to push people away who care about you and want to help you. There are people here for you- me and Marta and so many others, and we aren't going to let you suffer when we can help. We care about you, Alexia, not because you won the Ballon d’Or or because of what you can do on the field, but because you’re you. Your value doesn’t come from a football, or from Jenni. You are our Ale. And I know that you don’t like to let go of any control, Alexia, or show anyone this side of you, but you need to let us help you and be here for you.”
Alexia sniffled, a new wave of tears falling down her cheeks. She reached out for Irene, the defender wrapping her up in a tight hug which left her seated between the two laps, held by both women.
Marta picked up where Irene left off, giving Alexia a tiny kiss to the back of her hand before getting on to the other part of the post-spanking chat.
“That being said,” she continued. “You've been showing us where your head is at right now, and that's a stubborn little girl who needs to listen to people who want what’s best for you. And that means if Irene or I think you need it, we will be back here. Let me be perfectly clear- you’re forgiven, love, but that doesn’t mean that I’ll hesitate to take you over my knee in front of everyone if I see you acting up again. You will get a spanking as often as you need one for the message to sink in. Is that understood?”
A tiny part of Alexia wanted to protest, to argue that she had learned her lesson, that this would never happen again! But the desire to continue being comforted won out, and she nodded into Marta’s shoulder, wondering if that would really be so bad if she got to feel this safe afterwards again.
“Uh huh,” she whispered.
“I’m glad,” said Marta, standing Alexia up and helping her right her bottoms. The protective arm wrapped around her made the midfielder’s breath, still slightly ragged from crying, come more easily. Irene raced quietly around the room, gathering their things.
“You’re coming home with me tonight,” said the older defender as they walked outside. Before Alexia could protest, she had opened the passenger side of her car and lifted her in, reaching across to buckle her seatbelt. The younger player whimpered as the seat contacted her sore rear, shifting to minimize the discomfort as much as possible.
“No arguments, Alexia. I had Caro take your car home, and Patri is going to watch Nala for tonight.”
Alexia almost started crying again. Not, surprisingly, from the humiliating idea that Caro and Patri knew what Irene and Marta were planning, but from how soft and gentle her teammates were being, how much they seemed to care whether or not she was okay, and how they had arranged everything for her.
“Thank you,” she whispered, feeling as safe and warm as she had in a long time as she accepted Irene’s hug happily, letting the older woman pet her hair and kiss her forehead before she got into her own car. Marta pulled out of the lot, keeping one eye on Alexia as she looked out the window, breathing a sigh of relief that this had gone as well as it realistically could have. That Alexia hadn't run off afterwards, that she had let herself be comforted, let herself cry out everything that was hurting her, at least for the time being.
Alexia fell asleep on the car ride, only waking when Marta pulled up outside the home she shared with Caroline, rubbing her shoulder softly and rousing her with gentle prodding. She fought her desire to appear strong as they walked in the front door, instead embracing her instinctual need for comfort and clutching her older teammate’s hand as they walked inside. It was just Caroline, she knew, but still didn't love the idea of anyone else seeing her tearstained face.
She saw Marta and Caroline exchange a loaded look, wordlessly communicating, before the Norwegian gave her a warm smile.
“I’ve got the guest room all ready for you, Alexia,” she said, turning back around to stir whatever was on the stove. “I put some pajamas in there for you if you want to get cozy.”
Face flushing bright red again, Alexia whispered out a thank you, scurrying down the hallway.
Neither her heart nor her leg had magically repaired in the past hour. But, as she wrapped herself in a big sweater and some loose pants, as she sat down to eat dinner with her teammates, as Irene texted her goodnight with an adorable picture of baby Mateo attached and Marta tucked her in, telling her to call out if she needed anything during the night, neither was bothering her quite as much.