#applauding from the sidelines | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

purplereina11 · 2 months ago

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In a match where the scoreboard tells only half the story, a fierce on-pitch rivalry between you and football royalty, Alexia Putellas, evolves into something electric — something unspoken, but deeply felt. Between the lines two players lock eyes, trade touches, and blur the line between competition and connection. What begins as a game becomes a gravity neither can resist.

Part 12 Other Parts

Word Count: 9k

The moment you step onto the pitch, the crowd already feels louder than usual warmer, more expectant. You’ve been here before, dozens of times, but this time is different. This time, it’s goodbye.

You try not to let it get to you in the tunnel. Focus on the game, you tell yourself, just one more, one more ninety minutes, but when the announcer calls your name, and the fans chant it back with an echo that seems to ripple right through you, you feel it. The weight of it all. The years, the battles, the triumphs, the quiet nights of doubt. Every ounce of sweat you left on this pitch. Every person you’ve become because of this club.

The whistle blows. You breathe and you run.

You don’t go into the game thinking about records. You go in trying to be present, composed, but something shifts in you after the first goal, a fast, instinctive finish off your left foot. It’s like muscle memory takes over.

The second is cleaner a breakaway, defenders scrambling in your wake, the keeper never really stood a chance.

By the time the third lands, a beautiful curling power strike from outside the box, the stadium erupts. You don’t even know where your legs take you; your teammates are already swarming you, piling on top of you, yelling in three languages . Someone grabs your face, another lifts your arm in the air, you’re laughing and crying at the same time and then the stadium announcer’s voice cuts through the chaos:

“With that goal, she becomes the all-time leading goalscorer in Bayern Munich Frauen history…Make some noise for 'Your name'”

You freeze for just a moment. It’s surreal. The stat was floating around — close, possible — but no one wanted to say it out loud. Now it’s fact.

The fans are on their feet, banners waving, your name being chanted like it’s stitched into the bricks of the stadium.

When they sub you off near the end, the entire team stands to applaud, even the opposition clap you off. The fourth official gives you a nod that feels more personal than professional and as you walk toward the sideline, the whole stadium stands. It’s deafening. It had been rumoured for weeks you were leaving this international break and the players around you confirmed it for the fans and wanted to show there appreciation

You meet the new head coach with a nod and a watery smile, and then turn once more toward the crowd, pressing your hand over your heart and the badge, mouthing a quiet thank you.

You never imagined your last game here would end like this your name in the history books, the weight of the shirt settling over your shoulders one last time like a second skin.

The final whistle blew, and the camera cut straight to you, surrounded by your teammates. You looked tired, exhilarated, overwhelmed — but there was peace in your eyes. A kind of closure. You lifted the trophy high, confetti raining down. Red and white, one last time.

Then came the mic.

The stadium had quieted a little, waiting.

You stood at the edge of the pitch, still in full kit, boots covered in turf, hair sticking to your forehead. The trophy sat behind you. You didn’t need a script.

The crowd slowly quiets as you step forward, mic in hand, eyes scanning the stands, the cameras, your teammates.

You draw in a breath, then begin. “I’ve been trying to figure out what to say today. I’ve gone over it in my head a hundred times. But now that I’m standing here… words feel small.” You pause, voice already thick, a little shaky. “Bayern gave me more than I ever knew to ask for. This club, this badge, became home when I needed one most. It believed in me before I fully believed in myself and I’ll never forget that. How you embraced me into your team your country and your culture.”

The applause rises for a moment, but you lift a hand, gently asking for a bit more space to speak.

“This past couple of months has been… hard. And not just on the pitch, I made a personal private decision, one that certain people felt needed to affect me professionally. One that changed things fast and I won’t lie to you, it hurt. I didn’t want to leave like this, not where I was forced into making a decision.”

You glance toward the touchline, a flicker of emotion breaking across your face.

“But I also think… maybe it was time. Even when something’s good, even when you love it with everything you’ve got sometimes, you have to let go to grow. I grew to a player at my time in Lyon and I didn't think I could grow anymore but after three years here, I've grown even more and I'm excited to see where I end up next helps me grow and evolve as a player and a human being. I needed to make space for something new and trust that the next chapter could be just as full of meaning.”

Your eyes sweep across the sea of red in the stands.

“So no, I’m not confirming anything today about where I am heading next. That’s not what this is. Today isn’t about what’s next. It’s about what was. What we built together, what we achieved and rose this club to. What we bled for. It’s about the nights in the cold rain. The goals that didn’t come easy. The teammates who became family. The fans who showed up even when we lost and the belief that this, all of this, was bigger than just football.”

Your voice cracks softly.

“Thank you for letting me be part of your history and for being the most unforgettable part of mine, Ich liebe dich so sehr, es lebe Bayern.”

You step back. The crowd erupts not just in applause, but in a kind of collective, emotional exhale, flags wave. Fans wipe tears. Your teammates are already moving toward you again some clapping, some wrapping you in hugs that don’t want to end.

⚽️

The music’s loud, the lights low and warm, and the energy in the room buzzes with the kind of joy only footballers know that post-final, post-season, post-everything glow. Your whole body aches in the best way, like it remembers the pitch still, the weight of the trophy, the squeeze of your teammates’ arms around you.

But you’re drunk, not messy, not sloppy, just merry. The kind of drunk that makes you hug everyone a little longer, laugh a little louder, feel everything a little more.

You’re being passed around like a trophy yourself pulled into photo after photo, drink after drink handed to you with shouts of "To the record breaker!" and "Top scorer, baby!" Someone’s added a Bayern scarf around your neck and won’t let you take it off.

You’ve got your arm around one of the younger players, cheeks flushed from dancing, when Lea leans in and yells over the music, “How does it feel being a legend?”

You laugh, swaying slightly. “Like I’m gonna need electrolytes tomorrow and a very long nap.” The whole table bursts out laughing. Someone slides you a fresh beer. You raise it like a toast. “Danke, Bayern,” you say, dramatic and heartfelt, slurring just a little, “for the goals, the glory, and the ungodly amount of schnitzel I’ve eaten with you all.”

Cue more laughter, and someone probably Sarah Zadrazil shouting “SPEECH!” again, but you wave her off this time. “I already cried on a microphone today,” you grin. “Let me be hot and unbothered now.”

You find yourself in the middle of the dance floor not long after, surrounded by a chaotic circle of teammates, arms thrown around each other, jumping and spinning and shrieking lyrics off-key. The DJ transitions into a cheesy Euro-club anthem and the whole squad loses it.

Someone hands you a shot you don’t know who, you don’t ask, you drink it.

You’re not thinking about what comes next tonight, not contracts, not goodbyes, not even Barcelona. Just now. Just this and if your phone buzzes somewhere in your back pocket, a message from Alexia maybe but you don’t check it yet. You’re too busy living the last few hours of your Bayern chapter exactly the way it should be lived. Drunk. Loved and completely, unmistakably free.

The music doesn’t slow when they walk in, but the atmosphere shifts just enough that you feel it like a ripple. You don’t notice them right away, you're mid-laugh, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with Klara and Lea, dancing without rhythm but full of joy, cheeks flushed from one too many shots and the high of a perfect ending. Someone’s got a sparkler in a cupcake and is trying not to set off the fire alarm, but then Georgia leans in, close to your ear. “Hey… don’t freak out, but…”

You blink, still smiling, until you follow her glance toward the edge of the room. There they are. Your ex-head coach, and beside her, her daughter. That daughter. The one who had stared at you like she owned you and then bragged like she’d won something. She’s in a sleek dress, already nursing a drink, eyes scanning the room like she’s trying to gauge how much of a stir she’s caused.

You can’t hear your own heartbeat over the music, but you feel it in your throat anyway. A couple teammates catch on quickly. There’s movement, subtle shifts. One of the older girls gives you a tight smile, just checking in. Pernille moves a little closer, shoulder brushing yours. A silent you good? you tip your head, a shrug that’s half answer, half what the fuck is she doing here?

They’re not part of the celebration. She was let go, everyone knows it. This isn’t her circle anymore. You don’t look at the daughter again. Not even when she tries to catch your eye.

Instead, you grab another drink, rejoin the circle, and throw your arms around your people.

It’s quieter here, just far enough from the speakers that conversation doesn’t have to be shouted, but still close enough that the pulse of the music lives in your chest. You’re swirling the last of your drink, debating whether to have another or switch to water when her voice cuts through the hum beside you.

“Well,” she says, soft and smooth, like she never lit a match behind your back, “congrats, I guess. Big night.”

You turn your head slowly. She’s leaning against the bar, that same too-confident smirk playing at her lips. The one that once fooled you into thinking there was depth behind it. You give her a polite, emotionless nod. “Thanks.”

She lets a beat pass. “You look good.”

You sigh. “Don’t.”

“What?”

You face her more fully, voice calm, but firm. “Don’t pretend this is something it wasn’t.”

Her smile twitches, eyes sharp. “You left in the middle of the night. I’d say you’re the one pretending.”

You arch a brow. “I left after seeing the message you sent to your friends bragging about it. You turned me into a punchline in a group chat. That wasn’t me pretending. That was me walking away from something I should never have touched.”

That wipes the smirk off her face for a moment, but she recovers, leans in slightly, dropping her voice. “Maybe I made a mistake. I’ve been thinking about it. About you.”

You shake your head. “You’re still doing it. This game. This thing where you act like you didn’t mess it up and hope I forgot.”

She scoffs, arms crossing, irritation starting to show. “So what, you're too good for me now?”

“No,” you say, your voice lowering, more weight behind it now. “I just know what I want.”

“And what’s that?”

You take a slow breath, meeting her gaze dead-on. “I don’t want a childish girl in my life. I want a woman.” The silence stretches between you, heavy. You let it, then you step back, setting your empty glass down. “Someone who knows what it means to actually care about people. To protect what matters. Not just take, burn and laugh about it later.”

She watches you, blinking fast, suddenly unsure. Off-balance. Maybe for the first time around you. You nod once, final, and walk away.

The tension was soon replaced by laughter, music, and half-empty plates. The energy is looser, warmer back with the team, you didn't let the moment linger. There’s been dancing, hugs, tears from some of the staff, and far too many toasts. but when someone clinks a glass again and shouts for attention, it’s Georgia who steps forward, standing a little awkwardly but smiling wide, but the second she clears her throat and lifts her glass, people fall quiet.

“This won’t be long,” she says, eyes flicking to you with that glint of mischief, “because I know she hates this kind of thing.” There’s a ripple of laughter, but you’re already bracing yourself, heart thudding unevenly. Georgia takes a breath. “I’ve known her since we were kids and from the very start, I knew she wasn’t like the rest of us. She was sharper, faster, more stubborn, way too good with a ball at her feet… and absolute shite at letting people help her.”

Another laugh, gentler this time. You manage a sheepish smile, swallowing thickly.

“But somewhere along the way, she let me in. And we’ve been through everything together. Youth teams, heartbreaks, homesickness, injuries, wins, losses, early mornings and god-awful pre-season runs where I wanted to kill her because she always made it look easy.”

Your eyes drop, jaw tight, trying to breathe through it. You hadn’t expected this to hit so hard.

Georgia’s voice softens. “I’ve watched her grow into the kind of player legends are built around, but more than that more than the trophies, or the goals, or the headlines I’ve watched her grow into the kind of person you don’t come across often. Loyal. Brave. Quietly kind. The type who would rip her heart out for someone she cares about and never ask for anything back.”

There’s a silence in the room now, thick and still. You blink fast, but it’s too late your throat’s tight, and your eyes sting, and when you look up, Georgia’s watching you gently, like she knows.

“She’s been my best friend for so many years. And now she’s going somewhere new. Somewhere massive. And I couldn’t be prouder if I tried. Your next team doesn’t know how lucky they are yet but they will.” You press your lips together, but a tear slips out anyway. You wipe it quickly with the back of your hand as Georgia raises her glass. “To my best friend. My sister. You gave everything here and you’ll do the same there. You always do. I love you with all my heart my dude, go get the ballon d'or we all know you should of had by now”

A chorus of voices echoes her words, glasses raised high. “To her!”

Georgia smiles, "Just remember us in your acceptance speech yeah?" You laugh wiping your tears as the girls do,

You stand slowly, and Georgia moves first pulling you into a tight hug that you sink into, burying your face in her shoulder for a moment longer than you mean to. When you finally pull back, your voice cracks as you murmur, “You’re not allowed to do speeches anymore.”

Georgia grins, eyes shining too. “Next time I’ll sing it.”

You both laugh but your hands are still shaking a little, and you’re sure everyone saw the tears.

You don’t care, because if you had to cry anywhere… it was always going to be for her.

The morning Barcelona sky was soft with late spring sun, the kind that warmed your shoulders without making you sweat. You’d barely slept the night before not from nerves, not exactly but more from that strange hum that comes with knowing everything’s about to change. The start of finding a new daily routine and comfortability in a new country and city.

Your suitcase was unpacked, your boots were by the door, and Ellie Roebuck was already banging on your bedroom wall, telling you to hurry up or she’d leave you behind.

You’d moved into her apartment two days ago. It was clean, bright, and full of chatter. You were in the block where a lot of the younger players stayed so ones staying behind from international duty had popped down to see you, the energy was fresh, loud, and kind of perfect. You felt new here, but not unwelcome.

Today was the start.

Today, you’d walk into the training facility not as a visitor, but officially, formally, as a Barcelona player.

Ellie drove the two of you in, music humming through her speaker, one hand tapping the wheel, the other flinging commentary your way every couple of minutes about what to expect where not to sit in the dressing room, how intense the staff meetings could be, who was always late, who ran the group chats. She made you laugh, made you breathe easier. It was a good distraction from the knot in your chest.

Because the truth was… today felt strange, not bad. Just… new.

Alexia was gone, off with the national team. Her plane had taken off the same morning yours had landed, like some cosmic sleight of hand. It made your first day easier, less players, less eyes but room to breathe and learn the new way here.

Campus was already buzzing when you arrived. The media team ready and waiting, cameras being prepped, Barça press staff hovering with clipboards and radios. You were ushered inside before your foot could fully hit the pavement, a whirlwind of smiles, handshakes, welcome hugs, contract photo retakes. A press conference loomed, and you’d been warned there were going to be questions, about Bayern, about your decision, about the future.

You were ready. You had to be, but every so often, between the smiles and the flashing lights and the clicking heels of a PR handler walking too fast in front of you, your eyes flicked to the corridors to where you remembered seeing Alexia waiting for you once, or to the photo lined walls your eye almost every time drawn to Alexia in her moments of glory.

You squared your shoulders, let them take your photo smiled when someone shouted your name. Walked down the corridor in your new kit. The Barça crest over your heart. The past behind you, the whole world watching.

Today was a new beginning.

⚽️

Alexia stepped into the break room, the atmosphere inside was louder than usual not just music, but actual noise, a ripple of voices rising above the normal low hum of conversation and coffee machines.

She paused at the threshold, eyebrows pulling together as she scanned the room. A few teammates had their phones out, others clustered around the TV mounted in the corner. It was tuned to a sports channel, one of the big ones, and the screen was dominated by a wide shot of a press room at Ciutat Esportiva Joan Gamper.

Irene turned, noticed her. “Ah. Speak of the devil.”

Alexia’s brow lifted. “What’s going on?”

Irene nodded toward the TV, where the camera had now cut to your face fresh kit, Barça crest sharp over your chest, sponsor backdrop behind you. You were settling in at the microphone, smiling but clearly a little stiff, that telltale tension in your shoulders that Alexia knew by heart. “Barça just confirmed it,” Irene said, a wry smile tugging at her mouth. “They paid two million for her. Highest transfer fee in womens football history.”

Alexia blinked. “Two million?” she echoed, voice low.

Irene shrugged. “They really, really wanted her apparently.”

Alexia didn’t move. Her gaze stayed locked on the screen, her chest doing something traitorous and tight. She hadn’t expected it to hit like this, not the news, she knew it was coming, she’d known before anyone, really. But seeing it, watching the moment you stepped into that seat, pulled the mic toward you, and said your first words as an official Barcelona player, it felt real in a way it hadn’t before.

Patri elbowed her gently. “You gonna text her? Or are we pretending you didn’t fall in love with her before she even signed?” Alexia moved her eyes to Patri with that stare that Patri knew she'd over stepped.

Alexia rolled her eyes as she looked away, but her cheeks flushed a soft, warm pink anyway. She ignored the phone vibrating in her pocket.

Irene gave her a knowing look. “You could at least say congrats.”

Alexia’s eyes didn’t leave the screen. She watched as your eyes flicked up, answering a question she couldn’t hear, your voice steady but with that soft little smile the one that always slipped out when you talked about things that mattered.

⚽️

You shifted in your seat as the cameras clicked, the room settling after the opening statements. The Barça crest was bright on your chest, the water bottle beside the mic untouched. You could feel the lights on your skin, the buzz of anticipation from the room, from yourself. You’d done press conferences before, but this — this felt different. Bigger. Heavier.

The moderator nodded toward the first journalist.

“Y/N, congratulations on your signing. Obviously, it’s a historic move, can you speak to the nature of your departure from Bayern? There’s been a lot of speculation.”

You took a small breath, already expecting the question. Your voice was calm when it came, but low not guarded, exactly. Just thoughtful. “Leaving Bayern was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made. That club gave me a lot, years of development, memories I’ll never forget, a platform to grow, friends for life, but things changed with my relationship with Helen, I had made a personal decision away from football and the club and she felt that needed to impact me professionally as l assume punishment. I won’t get into all the details, but I knew I needed a different environment. Somewhere I could keep evolving and not live out the rest of my contract on the bench and Barcelona offered that."

There was a pause, and then the moderator pointed to another hand.

“What are your goals here? What do you want to achieve in Barcelona, both short term and long term?”

You smiled at that smaller, but this time a bit easier. “First and foremost, I want to earn my place. This team is packed with some of the best players in the world. I’m not coming in expecting anything to be handed to me, I’m coming in ready to work, to learn, to contribute. In the short term, I want to integrate into the squad, understand the system, find my place, where they want or feel they need me and mainly just get settled both on and off the pitch.” you take a breath "Long term? I want to help this team win. Champions League, Liga F, everything, but more than that I want to become part of the identity here. I want to be someone the club, the team, the fans, and the city are proud of and can rely on. I think that takes more than goals and assists. It takes heart and commitment. I’m here to give that.”

There were a few nods, pens scribbling, more flashes.

“Have the coaching staff shared their vision for you in the team? What role they want you to play?”

“Yeah we’ve had great conversations. They see me as someone who can offer versatility in the attacking third. I’ve played centrally, I’ve played wide, and they know I love to float and create. The exciting part is how fluid Barça’s style is. The staff have made it clear they want me to be bold to take risks, press hard, make things happen which I feel i'm no stranger at doing. I feel really aligned with their philosophy. It’s attacking, it’s technical, but it’s also smart. It suits me.”

Another question started to form from a hand raised in the back, the journalist leaned forward. “Are you ready for the pressure? Big fee, big legacy to live up to.”

You tilted your head slightly, lips twitching with a knowing smile, “Pressure’s a privilege. It means people believe in you and I’ve worked too hard to get here to be afraid of that now.”

Cameras clicked again. Flash. Flash.

You sat back slightly, exhaled and just for a moment, let the smallest smile slip, you'd spotted a journalist from Germany, you tilt your chin and speak in German, "What brings you here?" You and the woman held a conversation in German that was clearly more personal than professional before she asked her question in English.

"I'm not sure if you've been online at all since the news broke but theres a lot of excitement to see how you'll work with Barcelonas Captain Alexia Putellas after the battles you both have been in internally and domestically in the champions league"

"Hopefully well" You laugh gently, "I obviously can't speak for her but I felt when we came up against each other we always seem to know the other persons move before they did so that could work in our favour if thats still the case for sure"

⚽️

Your first week at Barça felt like it blurred and stretched all at once intense, humbling, but quietly exhilarating. The campus buzzed with that unique hum of history and expectation, and though most of the internationals were away, the few players around had been warm and curious, and the staff even more so.

You’d come in focused, not just on the pitch, but off it. You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t be that player, the one who expected the world to shift around them, so you’d shown up early, stayed late, and most noticeably, started showing real effort with the language.

You’d already gotten a few laughs from mispronunciations but it had softened people too, made them open up quicker. One of the assistant coaches had clapped you on the shoulder during a post-session debrief and said with a grin, “If you keep speaking like that, we might believe you were born here.”

And someone from the physio team, the one who always played reggaeton a little too loud, had joked, “She’s learning Catalan faster than some of the internationals that have been here years.”

It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t need to be. The effort was there, and people noticed. At lunch one day, Marta one of the captains , sat down next to you and offered to help with your phrases. You wrote them down in the notes app on your phone with a smile and thanked her with a very practiced, “Gràcies, ets molt amable.”

The week ended with a light recovery session and a slow walk around the facility with some of the staff and players, as you paused by one of the open fields, you caught yourself thinking not with nerves, but calm certainty, this already feels like home.

⚽️

You were sunk deep into the sofa, legs stretched out, one arm draped over Teddy while Jonny lay curled on the floor nearby both dogs fully committed to doing absolutely nothing. You’d just thrown your phone somewhere between two cushions after replying to a group chat when it started to buzz again.

Alexia.

Your stomach did that stupid thing that tight, stupid little flip, you answered with a casual, “Hi,” but your voice had that edge the kind of smooth you practiced, the kind that meant she still got to you.

“Hola,” she said, and you could hear the smile. “You free tonight?”

You glanced around like there was something scheduled beyond dogs and leftovers. “Uh, yeah?”

“I was thinking maybe I could pick you up. Take you for a drink, unless you’ve already got someone else charming lined up to share wine with on a Friday night.”

You snorted before you could help it, biting back a grin. “I think you just insulted both Jonny and Teddy.”

Alexia laughed. “I’ll make it up to them with treats. Twenty minutes?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

You hung up and tossed your phone down, just as Ellie rounded the corner with a glass of water and a look that said she’d heard everything, she arched a brow. “Wow. Readily available much?”

You gave her a shove with your foot. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. You’re in love, or at least in the very specific early stages of horny, hopeful affection.” She took a dramatic sip of water. “It’s gross. And adorable. And gross.”

You rolled your eyes, already standing up. “Shut up.”

Ellie smirked, trailing after you. “Just don’t come crawling back here drunk at 1am needing me to tell you she definitely likes you. Again.”

You paused at the hallway, glancing back at her with a playful glare. “She does.”

Ellie grinned. “Then go let her show you.”

You stood in front of your open wardrobe, clothes flung across the bed in the kind of chaos that only came from nerves disguised as decision-making. A fitted black top. A more casual button-down. Jeans or trousers? Heeled boots or trainers?

“I’m losing it,” you muttered, holding up a shirt in each hand like they were life-altering contracts.

Ellie lounged back on the edge of the bed, one leg crossed over the other, watching you with all the serenity of someone who had not been personally attacked by a crush showing up for drinks. “You are wildly overthinking this,” she said around a grin. “You’re not meeting her parents, you’re going out for a drink with the woman who has seen you in sweats, eating cereal out of a mug.”

“This is different,” you huffed, holding up a different shirt now. “I’m in Barcelona. I’m officially her teammate and this is her picking me up for the first time for something like this. This is new territory for us, I dont know what we are, I dont know if she even sees us as a thing”

“You’ve been a thing,” Ellie replied, eyes twinkling. “She looked at you like you hung the stars before you signed. Now she’s probably just mad you’re still pretending this isn’t a date.”

You opened your mouth to argue only for the sharp buzz of the intercom to cut through the room. You froze. Ellie howled with laughter. “Oh my God, are you gonna cry?” she teased, hopping off the bed as you scrambled for your phone. “You’re actually panicking!”

“Shut up—”

But Ellie was already at the wall panel, pressing the call button, her voice smug and sweet. “Hey, Alexia? Yeah, come up. She’s still getting dressed. Might be a while.”

You swore under your breath, glaring at her as she turned around with the most unhelpful smirk you’d ever seen.

“She’s coming up,” Ellie said, tossing your trainers toward you. “Better choose an outfit before she has to help you into it, because she certainly will want to help you out of it later”

You threw a pillow at her. Missed and then frantically pulled on the top she’d first suggested, because of course it looked best all along.

You were mid, half-wrestling your way into a jacket that you’d suddenly decided might just be needed incase its cold, when you heard the familiar sound of the front door opening, followed by Ellie’s unmistakable voice and Alexia’s low reply.

Your heart did that thing and you froze for a second, pulse jumping. Then, footsteps, then her voice, soft but amused, from your bedroom doorway.

“Have you not unpacked yet?” she asked, leaning against the frame with one brow arched, eyes flicking over the absolute chaos of clothes on your bed, and all over the floor.

You turned, already flustered. “I have! It’s just—this—wasn’t unpacking. It was… tactical outfit planning.”

Alexia’s eyes sparkled as she looked around, arms crossing lightly over her chest. She was in a simple outfit jeans and a white tee under a leather jacket nothing dramatic, but she still looked unfairly good. “Tactical,” she echoed, stepping a little further into the room. “Is this what you do before every drink?”

“Only with people who make me weirdly nervous,” you said before you could stop yourself, then winced. “That sounded cooler in my head.”

She smiled, slow and knowing, walking around the edge of your bed with practiced ease before glancing over your shoulder to the mirror. “Well, whatever strategy you landed on… it’s working.”

You blinked. “Yeah?”

Alexia shrugged one shoulder, but there was no mistaking the softness in her voice. “You look good.”

You turned slightly, your eyes meeting hers in the mirror. The air felt thick for a moment, warm and suspended. “I was going to say the same to you,” you murmured. “But I’ve already seen you in worse. Hoodie. Remember?”

That earned you a smirk, a familiar glint in her eyes. “That hoodie worked for me, and you know it."

You laughed properly this time tension bleeding out of your shoulders. Behind you, in the hallway, you could just make out Ellie muttering “Jesus Christ, just kiss already,” loud enough for no one to miss.

Alexia arched an eyebrow, grinning, and motioned toward the door. “Come on, before your new roommate starts narrating everything.”

You grabbed your bag with a shake of your head. “Lead the way, Putellas.”

⚽️

The bar wasn’t particularly full a few tables buzzing with locals, soft music filtering through the low lighting but it felt like its own kind of pocket. Removed from the press, the training ground, the cameras. It was just the two of you, a drink in your hand and Alexia next to you, looking at you like she’d been waiting to.

She slid your drink over to you, fingers brushing the base of the glass before retreating to her own. “So,” she said, eyebrows lifting as she took a sip. “How’s your first week been?”

You paused, glass halfway to your lips, and gave her a crooked smile. “Am I talking to my new captain right now or…”

The words hung there, suspended not because you didn’t know what to say, but because you suddenly weren’t sure what you were to each other now. This thing between you hadn’t really been labelled. A handful of visits, a couple of sexual encounters, and now she was asking about your week like it was nothing and everything all at once.

Alexia caught it the shift in your tone, the hesitation, her eyes softened, her smile slow and warm. “You’re talking to me,” she said quietly. “Not la capitana. Just me.”

You looked at her, your chest tightening in the best way. “Okay then,” you said with a soft laugh, finally taking a sip. “In that case, it’s been good. Better than I thought, actually. Everyone’s been kind. It’s strange though… adjusting to a new rhythm, new expectations. The staff are great, though. I feel like I already trust them.”

Alexia nodded. “That’s a big thing, trusting the staff. Makes all the difference.”

You toyed with the edge of your napkin. “Marta's already decided I’m one of you lot now, said there’s no going back.”

“She likes you,” Alexia said, her voice dipping into something teasing. “She’s very particular on who she likes to”

You smirked. “She also told me who to avoid if I want to keep my sanity.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes with a grin. “Let me guess… Jana?”

You pointed at her dramatically. “Yes. I didn’t even say anything, and Marta just went: ‘Don’t let Jana rope you into any theme nights. And if Ona’s involved? Run.’”

That pulled a real laugh from Alexia the kind that made you feel like you’d done something right just by being honest.

“I’ve been trying with the Catalan too,” you said after a moment. “Or at least trying and trying to not embarrass myself entirely. One of the physios asked if I knew any, I panicked and said ‘maybe’… in German.”

Alexia’s laugh softened to a fond smile. “Don’t worry. You’ve got time. I’ll help you, if you want.”

You looked at her over the rim of your glass. “Dangerous offer. I might hold you to that.”

Her gaze lingered. “I hope you do.”

You fell quiet for a beat, the kind of silence that didn’t press or stretch it just settled around you comfortably.

Then, more gently, Alexia leaned in a little. “You seemed nervous at the press conference.”

You shrugged. “I was. I didn’t want to say too much, or too little. I didn’t want to make it about the past.” She nodded like she understood, because of course she did. “But it’s weird,” you added. “I spent months knowing I had to leave Bayern and now that I’ve left, I thought I’d feel… relief, I guess. But it’s more like… grief. In a way.”

Alexia reached across the gap as you sat on your stools, brushing your thigh lightly with her fingers, not holding, just touching, grounding. “That makes sense,” she said softly. “You gave so much of yourself there. It’s okay to miss it. Even if your hand was twisted with the decision really"

You looked down at where her fingers had met you, her touch still lingering. Alexia tilted her head, you met her eyes. “I want this move to be more than just a headline. I want to earn my place here and I want… I don’t know. To let myself be happy. Properly happy.”

She smiled again, this time slower. “That’s a good place to start.”

You looked at her for a long moment, something warmer unfurling between your ribs even after she leaned back straight sipping her drink her hand still firm in its place on your thigh. “I missed you this week,” you say finally, quiet but certain.

Alexia looks up from where she’d been playing absently with a coaster, her expression shifting, something soft slipping into her eyes, a flicker of surprise behind it. “I thought about texting,” she says after a pause. “Calling, even. I just… I didn’t want to be a distraction. It felt like you needed space to settle in.”

You nod, offering a faint smile. “I get it and I didn’t expect you to. You were with the national team, you had your own stuff going on. I wasn’t waiting by the phone or anything.”

Alexia gives you a small, knowing look. “But you missed me.”

You shrug, playing it off with a smile, but your voice is sincere. “Yeah. I did.”

There’s a beat where neither of you says anything, the noise of the bar rising softly around you, but not enough to drown out the quiet gravity between you. “I missed you too,” Alexia says eventually, her tone almost shy. “More than I have before, maybe because I knew you were here to stay this time, that missing you didn't have to be a thing anymore.”

Your heart does a strange little somersault.

She runs a hand through her hair, eyes flicking back to you. “I kept checking for updates, watched for anything on Barca's instagram how your first few days were going”

You laugh lightly. “Stalking me?”

“I prefer the term keeping up.”

You grin. “Well, for what it’s worth… I’m glad we’re here now. Just you and me. No cameras. No clubs. No captains.”

Alexia’s smile deepens, slow and warm. “Just us.”

You clink your glass gently against hers. “Just us.”

⚽️

You unlock the apartment door, Teddy padding over to greet you both with an eager tail wag, and Alexia crouches briefly to ruffle his ears, murmuring a soft, "Hola, guapo," before straightening again.

She lingers just inside the threshold, looking around with that quiet familiarity, her fingers slipping into the back pockets of her jeans. “I should probably call a taxi,” she says after a moment, voice low, uncertain. "Let you get to bed"

You glance at her, keys still in your hand. “You could stay over, I was going to finish this bottle of wine.” you said as you grab it from the fridge

Her eyes flick to yours, a question hidden behind them. “Are you sure?”

You smile, shrugging one shoulder lightly. “Yeah. It’s late, you’ve had a drink, and we’re not exactly over tonight, are we?”

She huffs a small laugh, something teasing in her smirk as she walks further in. “No. Definitely not over it.”

You watch her move through the space like she’s already part of it, “Besides,” you add, voice softer, “I wouldn’t mind waking up to you still here.”

That earns you a look, one of those Alexia looks head slightly tilted, eyes narrowed like she’s seeing through every layer you’ve got, “You’re dangerous when you talk like that,” she murmurs.

You lean on the counter, grinning. “Then stay. Risk it.”

She hesitates for just a beat, then kicks off her shoes and tosses her keys into the bowl beside yours.

“I’ll take that glass of wine,” she says, casual like she’s not silently choosing something heavier than she lets on. “If it's still going?”

You grab another glass down, "Of course"

You nod, heart a little full, a little unsteady. “You want something to sleep in?”

Alexia lifts an eyebrow. “Do I need something to sleep in?”

You blink, caught off guard, and she laughs again low and playful, stepping closer, close enough to hook her fingers through a belt loop of your jeans. She must know you like it when she tugs at your clothing like she did, because she did every time she saw you.

“I’m teasing,” she murmurs, “kind of.”

You don’t say anything just lean in and kiss her, slow and warm, and when she breaks it, she smiles against your mouth.

Alexia looks down at your now joined hands, then back up at you. Her voice is quieter now, more tentative. “I like our conversations, I miss the way you talk to me when I speak to some other people.”

You tilt your head. “How do I talk to you?”

“Like I’m just Alexia,” she says. “Not Alexia Putellas. Not La Reina. Just… me.”

You squeeze her fingers gently. “I like just you. I can prove it if you want?" You smile gently

“You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone, Coco.”

You laugh at the nickname. “Mateo would be proud.”

Alexia’s grin lingers, but her eyes soften again. “He keeps asking when you’re coming back over.”

“When you invite us, you're apparently not that forthcoming in inviting your teammates over, but happily go to everyone else's homes.”

Her thumb brushes your knuckles. “I'll stop asking you then shall I?"

You arch an eyebrow at her, catching the teasing tone under her words. “Stop asking me? You make it sound like I’m some burden.”

Alexia leans back slightly, her smile twitching at the corners. “You’re not. You’re the opposite, actually.”

“Oh?” You grin. “So what’s stopping you from inviting me properly? Hm?”

She rolls her eyes, but it’s playful. “Maybe I like coming here better. Less pressure, I don't have to host, and.. you don't have to leave Teddy”

You tilt your head. “So, what you’re saying is… you like being here so you can cuddle Teddy whilst I run around after you?.”

Alexia’s gaze drops briefly to your mouth, then meets your eyes again. “I do." You both laugh as you both sip your wine, you put yours down with a little more force than intended,

You shift slightly, leaning in just a little. “So, what are we doing tonight then, since you’re not racing off to get a taxi and you haven’t exactly made a move?”

She shrugs with exaggerated casualness, but her fingers tighten ever so slightly on your hip. “I don’t know… what are we doing?”

Your voice drops just a notch. “Well, I’ve got a spare toothbrush still in the pack, and the guest bed is technically made…”

Alexia lifts an eyebrow. “Technically?”

You smirk. “Meaning I can throw the blanket over the sofa and hope for the best you don't freeze to death out here.”

She laughs, and the sound curls warm through your chest. “I’m not willing to take my chances.”

“Guest bed or mine?” you tease.

She’s already leaning closer. “Coco…”

You grin, brushing your nose against hers. “What?”

“I’m not staying on the fucking sofa.”

You kiss her soft, drawn out, like you’ve got all the time in the world. When you pull back, she’s smiling, eyes half-lidded, thumb still brushing lazy circles over your knuckles. “So,” you say, breath a little shaky now, “should I go get that toothbrush for you?”

Alexia hums. “Only if you're coming with me to use it.” She pauses, then grins. “Because I’m absolutely stealing your moisturiser again.”

You groan, teasing. “You’re the worst houseguest.”

“I’m not a guest,” she replies easily, tugging you toward the hall. “I’m staying over.”

⚽️

You try to focus on brushing your teeth, but it’s impossible when Alexia keeps glancing at you in the mirror, a smirk tugging at the edge of her mouth like she knows exactly what she’s doing to your focus.

She finishes first, of course, smug about it too, and without hesitation, grabs your moisturiser from the shelf like she owns it.

You glance at her through the mirror, foam still at the corners of your mouth. “You’re really just gonna steal that, huh?”

Alexia shrugs, already dabbing it onto her cheekbones with practiced precision. “I told you. I like yours better.”

You rinse and spit, wiping your mouth dry with a towel just as she finishes rubbing the cream in, then she steps behind you, her reflection moving into your peripheral vision. You feel her arms wrap around your waist, warm and easy, her body pressing close to yours from behind.

You exhale, instinctively leaning back into her. “You’re in a mood tonight.”

She hums against your shoulder. “You’re warm.”

Her lips brush bare skin. Just once, then again slower. You catch the shift in her expression in the mirror, her playful glint fading into something deeper, something that steals your breath.

Alexia starts with a gentle kiss to your shoulder, her hands sliding over your stomach, exploring, almost absentmindedly then her mouth trails higher, unhurried, grazing the slope of your neck.

You grip her arm for support, watching her lips in the mirror as they closed against your skin. “Ale…” you murmur, voice low, barely able to get the word out.

She doesn’t stop. Her mouth moves behind your ear, her hands splayed across your torso, thumbs tracing slow lines under the hem of your sleep shirt. “Mm?”

Your breath hitches. “You keep doing that, and we’re never making it out of this bathroom.”

She grins against your neck, her voice husky with intent. “That’s kind of the point.”

You turn, slowly, until you’re facing her. Her hands stay on you, her eyes are dark now, sure of themselves. There’s no teasing left in her smile just heat and want and something that feels dangerously close to adoration.

You rest your forehead against hers. “You’re not tired?”

“I’m tired of not touching you,” she whispers.

Then she kisses you again deeply this time and the rest of the night begins to rewrite itself, one soft, lingering touch at a time.

Alexia pulls back from the kiss, breath warm against your lips, and then with that familiar mischievous glint in her eyes she bends slightly, hooks her arms around your thighs, and lifts you clean off the floor in one smooth, confident motion.

You let out a surprised laugh, arms instinctively wrapping around her neck. “Are you serious right now?”

She grins, carrying you toward the bed like it’s nothing. “You doubted me?”

“A little bit,” you tease, breathless with laughter. “You’re deceptively strong.”

“I’m literally a professional athlete,” she deadpans, setting you down with an exaggerated gentleness before crawling beside you. “What did you think I was doing all that gym work for? Instagram posts?”

You snort. “I thought it was just for the aesthetics.”

Alexia props herself up on one elbow, her other hand smoothing over your hip. “Well, the aesthetics are a bonus,” she murmurs, gaze flicking over you meaningfully. “But it’s mostly for moments like this.”

You roll your eyes, smiling, as you tug her closer. “God, you’re cheesy.”

“You love it,” she says smugly, settling half on top of you.

You don’t disagree. You run your fingers teasingly along Alexia’s arm, still half-draped across your waist, and glance up at her through your lashes.

“I mean… I do like your arms.. the muscles.”

Her eyes narrow playfully. “Oh yeah?” she says, lifting her arm and flexing her bicep with a grin. “These muscles?”

You burst out laughing, pushing lightly at her chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

But she just smirks, holding the pose. “You brought it up.”

You shake your head, grinning. “Fine. Yes. Those muscles.” You lean up and kiss her, slow and warm. “Very impressive, capitana.”

Alexia hums into the kiss, her hand slipping up under your shirt. “I’ll remind you next time you tease me about carrying you.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you murmur against her mouth.

She grins again, soft but wicked. “You have no idea.”

Alexia shifts beside you, her hand tracing slow patterns along your side as she presses a lingering kiss to your lips.

“You know what I like?” she murmurs, her voice warm and quiet.

You smile, eyes still closed. “Mmm… what?”

She brushes her lips just below your collarbone, slipping on top of you, the kiss soft and deliberate. “Here,” she says. Her hand moves gently over your stomach, her fingers light sliding your shirt up followed by a kiss on your abs. “And here,” she whispers. “Strong without trying. You don’t even realise it.”

You open your eyes, meeting her gaze in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. There’s something deeply sincere in her expression, something unguarded.

She leans down, kissing the curve of your hip. “And this—” her voice is quieter now, almost a smile against your skin, “this is just one of my favourite places to hold onto when you’re close.”

Your breath catches, not from surprise but from how gently she’s unfolding each word. You reach for her hand, threading your fingers together. “You’re kind of good at this, you know.”

“At what?” she murmurs, lips grazing your wrist.

You look at her, heart full. “Making me feel seen”

She meets your gaze again, eyes steady and soft. “That’s easy,” she says. “You’re hard to miss.” Her fingers hook into your little pyjama shorts, “May i?”

You bite your lip, “You better”

⚽️

You arrive at training with Ellie, both of you still buzzing a little from the morning's energy. The sun's climbing lazily over the city, casting warm light across the pitches as players filter in from all sides bags slung over shoulders, coffee cups in hand, laughter echoing in short bursts across the facility. You can tell the internationals are back there's a different kind of buzz today.

Inside, you're barely ten steps into the building before you're met with a chorus of greetings.

“Hola!”

“Buen día!”

“¡Al fin te conocemos!”

A few of them wrap you up in brief, affectionate hugs like they've known you longer than five minutes. Patri gives your arm a playful squeeze, Aitana gives a polite nod, Claudia winks, and Cata grins wide as she compliments your boots. The vibe is easy, warm like family. You’re a little caught off guard by how immediate it feels still now everyone was here.

Then Mapi strolls over, already grinning. “Coco,” she sings, eyes dancing as she holds up her phone. “You busy?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Training starts in ten minutes.”

“Perfect,” she says, completely ignoring your implication. “Help me with this.” She flips the phone toward you as she sits in Ellie's cubicle beside yours, It’s another English crossword. The fifth one this week.

“You know they have Spanish ones, right?”

“I know,” she shrugs, not the least bit ashamed. “But this helps me practice my english. And you’re better than Google Translate.”

You take the phone, eyeing the half-finished puzzle. “Five letter word, ends with N… artificial silk.. Rayon.”

Mapi nods sagely. “You're so smart”

You snort. “You’re not slick.”

“I try.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling as you tie your boots and she walks away face buried in her book, you feel Alexia's gaze on you but you don't meet it. You're pulling your training top down when Kika opposite smirks and speaks as the locker room at awful timing fell silent, "That's an interesting mark you have"

You wet your lip trying to stop the corners of your lips from curling as you made eye contact, "Mind your business"

"Truth or dare"

You groaned "No, Kika, please no more" You give Marta a pleading look when Kika looked to her also.

"Don't look at me, it's either that or singing you know that" she smiled

"What's this?" Irene asked

"I talked to Y/N about initiation, she haggled, she gets to not sing if at any point we say truth or dare, we ask a question and give a dare and she has to either answer or do the dare. unfortunately for Y/N Kika asks personal questions and gives dares most wouldn't do"

"So. Truth" Kika grinned, "When did you last have sex or Dare. You run four laps of the pitch after training"

"I'll run the laps"

Ellie laughed at Kika's face, "She loves running, nice try"

You toss your kit bag onto the bench, still grinning from your dodge of Kika’s truth-or-dare trap, when she perks up again, clearly not done with her game.

“Well, if you're not gonna say when, maybe at least say who.” Kika narrows her eyes, her voice lilting with amusement. “What about that girl from the bar? The one who looked like she was very ready to risk it all the other night?”

Your smirk falters slightly not because she’s right, but because of the shift in the air the second the words leave her mouth. You feel it before you see it. The brief silence is loud.

Your eyes flick instinctively across the locker room just in time to catch the split-second change in Alexia’s face. The subtle clench of her jaw. The way she adjusts the tape around her wrist a little too tightly. Her expression unreadable, but her energy very, very clear.

Irene, standing beside her, clocks it too. She leans over, voice low and dry but not unkind. “Seems like you’ll need to do more than mark your territory.”

Mapi, unbothered and sipping from her water bottle, chuckles beside them. “Could always piss in a circle around her bag, classic animal kingdom move.”

Alexia doesn’t respond, but there’s a flash of something in her eyes. Not quite jealousy sharper than that. Possessive, maybe, or challenged.

#alexia x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas fanfic #woso fanfics #alexia putellas #woso #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas imagine #woso imagine #alexia putellas x y/n #alexia putellas one shot #fcb femeni

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merakiui · 2 months ago

Note

Seeing Georgina has just filled my brain with these dumb eels.

With that being said

Politics in the Leech family dictates that someone needs to mediate the conception of the next family heir to legitimize the union. So who better to do that than Mama Leech! She finally meets who caught her sons eyes when you are dragged to their family compound. One of their physicians confirms that you are not pregnant before she throws you to her boys to change that.

Her job doesn't end there,no. She watches as you are absolutely dicked down by the twins. She just politely sits at a tea table going over documents and writing reports as you whimper and whine in the background her favorite white noise.

She may even coach them a bit from the sidelines:

"Floyd dear lift their hips just alittle higher- ah yes just like that"

"Jade honey go a bit harder they can handle it."

By the end of it she inspects your thoroughly creampied pussy and distended stomach. With a smile she commends her sons on a job well done.

👁️ 👁️ Mama Leech who, after praising her boys, softly applauds you for doing so well. You’re too exhausted and fucked out to really think or do much of anything, merely peering up at her from where you’re sprawled on the bed. She leans down to brush your hair away and press a gentle kiss to your cheek. You’ll make such an adorable mother, she’s saying while pushing a pussy plug inside you to keep all of that cum from spilling out. Wouldn’t want to waste a single drop. It’s important you come away from this pregnant. :)

There’s no need to be so scared or anxious. After all, you’re helping the repopulation effort. That’s a very admirable thing. You should be proud of that. You’re young and healthy, so there will be plenty more opportunities in the future for you to bear more children. And hopefully they will all prosper. She’s certain they will. Mostly, she just can’t wait to be a grandmother so she can dote on and spoil them all. Both her and Papa Leech are thrilled their boys have found someone to love and cherish. And now you’re starting a family!! There’s so much to look forward to. >w<

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw #twst apocalypse au

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zeropro · 4 months ago

Text

Skywarp: Origins Chapter 3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63945331/chapters/164529697

The trilogy is complete! ^o^ Thank you all so much for reading! Full chapter under the cut:

Chapter 3

Thundercracker repeated the mantra.

Don’t think, just do it.

Skywarp had given him that piece of advice the day of the senate massacre. While Megatron and Starscream lead the attack on the ground, he and Skywarp were tasked with chasing down an escaping airship full of Cybertron’s affluent elite.

According to Starscream, the senators may have been the ones passing the corrupt laws, but they themselves were still slaves to the bottom line. The wealthy were just as culpable in the crime of governance.

But they weren't soldiers, or fighters. Most of them didn't even have weapons at the time.

He couldn't stop thinking about their faces.

Their ugly, pathetic, terrified faces as they begged helplessly for their lives, cowering in their luxury airship, clutching at jewelry that cost more than he’d ever made in a whole stellar cycle.

The Decepticons killed them all.

Thundercracker told himself it was due justice. That they were on the right side of history. That there had been no other way.

His hands still shook sometimes.

Skywarp didn't seem to spend any amount of his processor thinking about the morality of war. In fact, he didn't seem to dwell on much of anything. It was probably why he was so happy all the time. Thundercracker almost envied that. Life would be so much simpler if he could just turn his processor off and follow orders.

Starscream was at least a smarter mech than he was when it came to politics. Starscream had a lot of experience with it and spent a lot of time with the Decepticon high command. The smaller seeker had a way of pulling him out of his helm and reminding him of the bigger picture. It helped to know why the Decepticons were doing the things they were doing, it just didn't make doing it any easier.

The world was constantly changing, and normalcy was nowhere to be found. Thundercracker did his best to cope. Half the time he could cling to Starscream’s reassuring words, and the other half he spent repeating Skywarp’s mantra.

In this way, Thundercracker was determined to survive the war.

Expelling another vent of air to calm his nerves, Thundercracker refocused on the ceremony in front of him. Megatron’s speech had just concluded, and the room was shaking with cheers as the Seekers applauded their newly appointed Air Commander. A rare smile ghosted across Thundercracker’s faceplates. He was proud of his friend. Starscream had worked hard to earn this position, with Thundercracker content to watch him climb the ranks from a safe distance. When it came to war, to politics, to leadership, Thundercracker preferred to hover on the sidelines.

That was all about to change.

“Now, Air Commander Starscream, name your Command Trine,” Megatron bid.

A hush fell over the room; every Seeker looked up expectantly. The trine was a military formation: three Seekers always flew better than one. It was a matter of tactics, but for warbuilds, especially first-generation Seekers, there was a deeper, almost cultural significance to the position. Even Thundercracker, who lived most of his function as a civilian, understood it. Trine meant trust. Trine meant safety. To be trined was to be committed to flying together, fighting together, and quite often, dying together.

Starscream gave an assured smile as he held his hand out ceremoniously.

“I name Skywarp.”

There was murmured approval, and a few Seekers nodded knowingly. The black and purple teleporter was an obvious and expected choice. He had an exceptionally powerful outlier ability and had been a part of Megatron’s inner circle since before the bombing of Vos. Skywarp squealed as he pranced onto the platform to stand by Starscream’s side. Thundercracker took another steadying vent.

“And Thundercracker.”

The difference in response was palpable. A few optics turned on him as a wave of whispers rose from the ranks; baffled surprise, confusion, and dissatisfaction laced the air. Thundercracker hated being the center of so much scrutiny; despite having prepared himself all night, it still made him want to flee the room.

Starscream watched all this, completely at ease among the Decepticon High Command, hand extended with the most confident smile on his face. If Thundercracker accepted this position, he’d be up there too, no longer able to hide away in the background. Every optic would be on him, judging him, expecting things of him.

Don't think, don't think, just do it. Forcefully, he relaxed his wings and held his head high as he moved through the crowd.

A red and black Polyhexian seeker with flames detailing his wings stepped forward to block his path. “Thrust,” Thundercracker acknowledged flatly, planting his peds in proper military form.

The other seeker puffed out his chest. “Stay right where you are, Thundercracker. I’m challenging you for your position in the Command Trine!”

This too had been expected. Flying as the Air Commander’s wing mate was a coveted position. Skywarp was an obvious choice, but Thundercracker was a nobody. No one knew who he was or what he could do, and many would see themselves better suited to the role.

Thundercracker suppressed a grin. If there was one thing he was happy to do, it was proving his superior skill in the air.

This wasn’t about skill, however; it was about establishing control. It was about proving to the Seekers that the Air Commander’s trine was not to be messed with in their own right. If Thundercracker accepted one challenge, his position would be forever open to more. Thundercracker rumbled his engine low and threatening and drew himself to his full height. Starscream chose him for this role and trusted him to protect his wing both in the air and on the ground. Thundercracker would honor that trust.

“Are you questioning your Air Commander’s judgment?” he said, cold and calm. Thrust seemed to visibly whither, optics widening as he took a step back.

“N-no, of course not. It’s just…” He regained some of his earlier bravado with a flare of his wings, “Everyone here knows you’re a coward.”

Thundercracker didn't flinch at the insult. He let it hang in the air until several mechs started shifting uncomfortably. Slowly, methodically, he turned as if to walk away. The moment he saw the corner of Thrust’s mouth twitch upward in a smirk, he made his move.

Thundercracker had spent a lot more time than most Seekers training in hand to hand. His priority had always been to subdue and disarm rather than deactivate, and that was hard to do when shooting from the air. Before anyone knew what happened, Thrust was laid flat on his back, wings pinned to the ground by Thundercracker’s peds, both shoulder cannons torn brutally off. Thundercracker aimed Thrust’s own weapons at him for a moment before tossing them aside and addressing the rest of the Seekers.

“I was not aware challenges were being acknowledged today. If our leader sanctions it,” and here he turned towards the platform to extend a respectful hand towards Megatron, “I will be happy to oblige.”

The Decepticon leader smiled approvingly. “That will not be necessary, Thundercracker. I trust in my Air Commander’s selection.”

And that was the final word.

Thundercracker met no further opposition on his way to the front, and the ceremony was concluded shortly after. And then came the drinks. Decepticons loved to party. Normally, during such celebrations, Thundercracker would tuck himself away in a corner somewhere, where he could comfortably watch the festivities without getting involved. That was significantly harder to do when he was one-third of the reason for the celebration in the first place. Starscream worked the crowd as he usually did, greeting every mech by name and somehow juggling three conversations at once at any given point in time. It was all Thundercracker could do to just stay close, letting Starscream redirect all attention off of him.

Thundercracker felt ready to keel over by the end of it all.

It had been Skywarp that finally provided the excuse he needed to leave the gathering. The small Seeker had downed an extra five drinks too many, and having made out with half the Seekers in the room, he was now draped across Thundercracker’s back, completely crashed out.

“Well, that's one way to keep Skywarp out of trouble!” Starscream laughed, before waving his new trinemates off to the barracks. Thundercracker was grateful for the dismissal, even if it meant he had to now drag a semi-unconscious Skywarp the entire way there.

It wasn't as easy as it looked. Unlike Starscream, whom Thundercracker could carry easily, Skywarp was surprisingly dense for his size. Thundercracker found himself needing to take more than a few pauses just to let his cooling fans work for a klick.

Skywarp giggled unprompted.

“At least one of us is having a good time,” Thundercracker grumbled. Hiking his overcharged passenger higher on his back, he continued making his way through the compound.

“M’sorry fer callin’ you a sap…”

Thundercracker nearly stumbled. It had been so soft. Had Skywarp not been right by his audio receptors, he wouldn't have even heard it. When it seemed like his only response was going to be a prolonged silence, Skywarp tightened his hold around his neck and whined louder, “I said I’m sorryyyyyuuh!”

Thundercracker choked. “Okay! okay! I heard you! It’s fine… Don’t worry about it.”

“Mmm…” Skywarp rubbed his helm against Thundercracker’s affectionately. “You were real cool today, Thunders. You really showed them. Heh heh.”

Thundercracker rolled his optics. “You’re drunk, Skywarp. Go to sleep.”

“No, YOU go to sleep! See how you like it. Treat me like I’m dumb. I’m no dumb!”

“No one said you were dumb, Skywarp.”

“Wuh! Why not?” Skywarp gasped, utterly offended. “Don’t they know? They don’t know!?”

Skywarp wasn't going to remember any of this once sober, Thundercracker realized. There was no real point in continuing the conversation.

“What do they not know?” he asked, despite himself.

Skywarp started giggling again.

“You’re alright, Thundercrackers. Cracker jackers. Thun da dun dun, why your designation so long? I’mma just call you TC. Can I call you TC? That's way easier!”

Thundercracker didn't know if he liked the new nickname.

“Try harder not to die out there, TC.”

Thundercracker paused midstep, fans whirling. Skywarp looked around for a moment, decided they had not reached the berths yet, and rested his chin back down against Thundercracker’s shoulder.

“Y’know, Mmmegatron told me that once… He said, ‘Skywarp, try harder not to die out there? Cuz… cuz… y’know? There are mechs who like you, or something.’ Heh, isn't that funny?”

Thundercracker gave him an incredulous look. “Funny how?”

Skywarp hummed, and then patted him on the helm. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

“W-what’s not my fault?”

“Oh, get over yourself. You’re not special!”

Thundercracker had lost the thread of conversation, if there ever was one to begin with, so he started plodding on again in silence.

Just as he thought Skywarp might have drifted into recharge, the black jet started sniffling.

“Are…are you crying right now?”

“You’re mad at me.”

“What? no! I… No, I’m not.”

Skywarp hid his face in Thundercracker’s neck and mumbled, ”I didn't mean it. You can be a little bit special.”

“...Thanks.”

“But only a little bit.”

Thundercracker almost laughed. “How generous of you, Skywarp.”

“Redwing was special.”

Thundercracker glanced sideways at Skywarp’s face. “Who’s Redwing?”

“Dead,” Skywarp shrugged dismissively, as if it were the most natural thing to say. “I liked a lot of the guys back then. I liked Redwing too. Redwing was cool. I remember thinking he was cool, anyway. Redwing died laughing, y’know. I remember thinking, that's how I wanna go.”

Thundercracker stared at the floor; he was so tired. “Please don’t say stuff like that.”

“What’s the big deal? Seekers don’t live that long anyway!”

“Don’t be stupid. We live as long as anybody else.”

”Oh yeah, I forgot, heh. I guess all the guys back then just really sucked at it. I guess that means I’m actually really good at it! Ahahahaha!”

Skywarp felt heavy on his back. What was he supposed to say to that? He supposed it didn’t really matter, as much as Skywarp would remember it. Even so, he didn’t feel right not saying anything at all.

“I’m…sorry you’ve lost so many friends.”

“It’s okay,” Skywarp said, and then kissed the side of his helm. “I forgive you.”

Thundercracker really did laugh this time, shaking his head. “I'm starting to see why Starscream likes you so much.”

Skywarp giggled. “Starscream likes me? That means… that means … Add Megatron, and that makes…” He struggled for a moment, “Two whole guys who like me!”

Thundercracker chuckled. “Make that three.”

Not to be outdone, Skywarp threw his arms up and shouted, “Four! Five! Six!”

The room where all the Seekers stayed was dark and empty when Thundercracker finally reached it. Not knowing which of the many identical berths Skywarp usually recharged on, and not wanting to upset anyone else, Thundercracker dropped the teleporter sideways on his own slab and then lay down next to him, both their legs hanging off the side.

After a moment of silence, Skywarp hummed thoughtfully.

“I bet those bots we rescued had guys who liked them, huh?”

“Yeah,” Thundercracker smiled, “I bet they did.”

#transformers #skywarp #thundercracker #starscream #megatron #command trine #elite trine #fanfiction #fanfic #maccadam

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dragon-kazansky · 1 year ago

Text

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Four - Roots for friendship

♡♡♡

The ball was entirely outside. It was beautifully done. You had been in awe from the moment you arrived.

You left your mother's side in order to explore the grounds and see who and what was happening around you. The music was lively and many people were out dancing. This felt far more comfortable and free than the last ball.

You pass Colin Bridgerton, who is approaching Penelope Featherington. The poor girl is looking rather down. It is, unfortunately, well known that she had not danced at all at the last ball. Nor did her sisters, but you felt most for Penelope.

You were lucky to have even bumped into Benedict that night. Otherwise, you were sure you would have had the same fate as poor Miss Featherington.

The gown Penelope was wearing was much nicer than ones you had known her to wear. You had heard Portia had a habit of dressing her daughters in the most unruly shades of pink and yellow, sometimes even red. Tonight she looked rather lovely.

You carry on walking, leaving them to talk. Though you think Penelope would make for a good friend, you think she would rather talk to Colin alone. You wonder if perhaps there is something between them.

Cressida Cowper walks past you. She doesn't even look your way. You don't see how she approaches Colin, spills her drink on Penelope on purpose, or Colin stepping in to dance with his friend.

Your eyes land on his brother. Benedict is standing off to the side with his eldest brother. Anthony isn't paying much attention to his, though. Benedict nurses a drink in his hand.

You approach. "Good evening, gentlemen."

Both of them turn to you. Benedict smiles. Anthony bows his head in your direction.

"Good evening," Anthony greets you first.

"Are you looking for Daphne?" You ask. He nods. "I saw her over there with your mother."

Anthony glances over, but does not leave to join them. "Is she well?" He asks.

"Seemingly so."

Anthony takes your answer. As long as Daphne is well, all else is well.

You turn to Benedict. "Not dancing?"

"Haven't found a partner." He smiles.

"My card is empty," you say.

"I shall have to remedy that then." He finishes his drink and puts the glass down on the table behind him.

However, before he can ask for the next dance, the music quietens, and a voice calls out amongst the crowd. "I present Vauxhall's newest spectacle of illumination."

You all turn to see what's happening.

"Feast your eyes above."

You look up. All the lanterns above your head light up at once. You smile. It was quite beautiful. You applaud with the rest of the crowd.

You hadn't noticed that Anthony had drifted away from your side to seek out his sister.

"Shall we dance?" Benedict's hand came into view. You chuckled and took it. Benedict led you off to the dance floor, and you both danced to quite a merry tune.

You laughed and smiled. This dance felt quite friendly. No one could ever assume he was actually trying to court you. Not that anyone was paying much mind.

"It seems mother is too distracted. I might had a lucky escape after all."

You laugh at his words.

"Well, thank you for enlightening me regardless."

You both finish the dance with a bow.

"That was quite a lot of fun." He grins at you.

"It is good for one to enjoy a dance, do you not think?" You giggle.

He nods and escorts you back to the sidelines. Benedict catches sight of Anthony looking less than pleased at something. Benedict excuses himself and goes after his brother.

You find Penelope standing alone now. Colin nowhere in sight. You decide to approach. "Are you enjoying the ball?"

The poor girl looks startled as she turns to you. "Oh, yes. Quite."

She doesn't sound overly convincing, but you decide not to push her. You smile and introduce yourself properly. She smiles and introduces herself in return.

"You look lovely." You compliment her.

"Thank you. Mother had to stay home, so I was able to dress myself. Do you like it?" She smooths down the front of her gown.

"I do."

"You were dancing with Benedict, were you not?" She asks.

"I was. We have become friends, of sorts."

Penelope smiles. "Colin is my friend."

"The Bridgerton's seem like good friends to have."

"They are."

You smile at her and link your arm with hers. "May I keep you company a while?"

Penelope looks quite pleased by your offer. "Yes."

You decide to take a turn around the garden with her. You have decided if nothing else, this season you would make new friends in London.

As you finish your lap of the guests, everyone seems to fall quiet and turn off to the side. You and Penelope stop to look also.

There, entering the ball once more was Daphne Bridgerton. Right beside her was the Duke of Hastings.

"My word," you whisper.

Penelope says nothing as she watches the two. People begin to whisper. You would never have guessed that had any interest in each other after the dinner party last night. Tensions at the table had almost been unbearable, and yet, Simon leads Daphne to the dance floor.

As fireworks light up the sky and the music plays, they dance among the other couples.

Penelope slips from your arm to take a closer look. You watch them with a smile. They had seemed ao unlikely, and yet, the way they danced with each other made you wonder.

Anthony Bridgerton was seething. You could almost feel it.

Violet Bridgerton was thrilled.

♡♡♡

An invitation to the Bridgerton house was not something you were rather expecting so suddenly, but it seemed Benedict was trying to make you quite comfortable with the idea of visiting them.

He had stated to his mother quite clearly that you were his friend and should be allowed to come by as you wished. Violet had agreed with him and reminded you upon entry to her home that you were always welcome.

Funnily enough, it was not Benedict who greeted you right away, but Daphne. She smiled when you entered the drawing room.

"Are you coming too?" She asks.

"Coming where?"

"To promenade with us in the park." She checks her hair with her hand carefully.

"I was unaware you were all going out." You confess to her.

"You're more than welcome." Violet walks past you with a smile.

"I'd be delighted." You smile.

Benedict enters the room and smiles brightly. "There you are."

"Did you invite me for this on purpose?" You ask.

"Perhaps."

"Devious," you chuckle. "Still, a walk would be lovely." You turn back to Daphne. "I assume this has to do with the Duke?"

Daphne puts on a smile, but her eyes don't quite light up. You don't question it. "It may," she says softly.

Benedict offers you his arm. "Shall we?"

You take it and nod.

While Daphne would be with the Duke and chaperoned by Lady Danbury and her mother, the rest of the family were free to stroll at their leisure.

Benedict kept you on his arm as you walked with him and his brothers.

"It's lovely out." You comment.

"Yes, very." Anthony responds, but his mind is elsewhere. "Excuse me." He walks off in a hurry.

"What's wrong with him?" You ask.

"I do not know," Benedict sighs.

Daphne and the Duke have gone way ahead. Lady Danbury and Bridgerton are following them.

"Shall we walk this way?" Benedict suggests. You walk with him, Colin trailing behind with his younger siblings, Gregory and Hyacinth.

"How did your sister manage to catch the Duke's attention? Not that she isn't beautiful or witty enough to capture such a gentleman."

Benedict laughs. "Gentleman? I've never heard him described as such."

"You mean because he is known for being... well, a rake?" You ask.

"Precisely."

"Are you a gentleman?" You ask him, looking at him curiously.

"Of course. All us Bridgerton boys are."

You hear Colin try to hide his chuckle behind you. You smile. "Somehow, I question the truth behind that statement."

"You simply don't know us well enough yet. In the last few weeks you've seen very little of us." He looks at you.

"I've seen you a great number of times for someone I bumped into at a ball."

He grins. "Funny."

"Is it?"

"I think so." He continues leading you through the park. "Are you coming back to ours after?" He asks.

"I'd hate to intrude further on your family."

"Nonsense." Colin speaks up from behind you. "You're welcome in our home."

You smile back at him. "Thank you. It feels strange to become so close to a family I've only really gotten to know."

Benedict looks at you softly. "I rather like having a fresh face to look at."

You laugh. "Careful. If your mother hears, she'll be on your case about finding a wife again."

"She knows I shall not find one in you."

"Splendid. I am certain there is some fine gentleman somewhere in London who will suit me quite nicely."

Benedict chuckles.

♡♡♡

You find yourself back in the drawing room of the Bridgerton Estate. Violet had fetched tea for everyone which you were currently enjoying quite nicely.

Daphne was playing the piano quite nicely in the background.

"Two dances? With a duke?" Hyacinth asks, smiling.

"He was quite taken with your sister, Hyacinth." Violet says proudly. "The entire party was, for that matter. All eyes were on Daphne."

You smile at them as you glance at Daphne. She is focused on her piano playing.

"Are you sure the entire party was not simply eyeing a tear in her dress?" Colin asks, sitting next to Benedict.

You were sat across from the brothers. You give Colin a narrowed stare.

"Or some misstep she took on the dance floor?" Benedict asked.

"You two are terrible," you say to them. Both of them smile at you with boyish grins.

"I do wonder, Daphne, might we count on the Duke at the Crawford ball?" Violet asks her daughter.

"I should think it a fair chance."

"What about the Ramsbury ball, Friday? And what about the grand picnic?"

"We shall see, Mama."

The excitement was evident in Violet. She was happy for her daughter's chances.

As the youngest siblings discuss Francesca being away for the rest of the season, Eloise comes in with quite the question.

"How does a lady come to be with child?"

You choke on your tea.

Daphne stops playing.

"Elosie, what a question!" Violet exclaims.

"I thought one needed to be married," she says right after.

"Whatever are you talking about?" Daphne asks her sister.

"Apperantly, its not even a requirement." Elosie says.

"Eloise, that is enough." Violet puts a stop to this conversation.

Eloise nods and goes to sit between her two older brothers. Violet tries to encourage Daphne to carry on playing the piano.

"I take it the two of you know?" Elosie asks thr men beside her.

"Do not look at me," Benedict says.

You hide your chuckle behind your cup.

"Have you ever visited a farm, El?" Colin asks.

Benedict smacks him round the back of the head, nudging Eloise in the process, who growls in discomfort. Violet turns around to face her children. "I do hope the two of you are not encouraging improper topics of conversation."

"Not at all, Mother." Benedict says.

"In fact, we were just heading off to... take our sticks out."

"Colin Bridgerton!" Violet scolds.

"A round of fencing!" He clarifies.

You bite back a smile as Benedict rises from seat along with his brother. He looks at you with a grin and then departs.

Poor Violet looked like she was going to suffer from those boys.

All other conversations in the room are put on a halt as it is declared that Humboldt is coming.

Daphne rises in delight.

You look up at watch as Humboldt enters the room.

"Has someone arrived, Humboldt?" Daphne asks.

"Callers for Miss Daphne, ma'am."

Daphne squeals with excitement.

"But... the duke? You already have a caller, dearest."

"Well, I suppose now I have more." She says excitedly.

You rise from your seat and approach Violet. "I shall take my leave. I think, perhaps, you're going to be quite busy."

Violet smiles at you softly. "Yes, quite. It was good having you, dear. Come again, won't you?"

You nod with a smile. As you walk past Daphne, you smile again, tapping her arm gently. "Good luck."

She thanks you and you leave.

As you exit the house, you find many gentlemen making their way to the door. She did not just have one or two callers. She had many.

Daphne was a diamond after all.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

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yourreddancer · 12 days ago

Text

HEARTLESS: Republican Rep. Tim Burchett says he's voting to gut Medicaid because sick and disabled Americans should "get off their ass and get a job."

Tennessee voters, are you paying attention?

In Tennessee, approximately 1.6 million people are covered by Medicaid, also known as TennCare. This represents about 19% of the state's total population, according to KFF. While the majority of enrollees are children and adults, the state spends a larger portion of its Medicaid budget on the elderly and people with disabilities, according to KFF.

Save the video for a campaign ad in 2026

Tell me what job the nursing home residents are going to get.

He was never on the fence on this bill, they were always a yes! Remember that when these Republicans are up for running again and VOTE them OUT!

Working people get help from medicaid to help the sick with medicine & treatments. These people have health insurance but some insurances don't/want pay.

Having a job doesn’t guarantee health insurance. There are tight-ass employers who make sure they don’t have to provide it by hiring only part-time, or it’s too expensive for the employee to sign up for it.

What job can a 70 year old with rheumatoid arthritis and balance issues do? Who would hire a 70-year-old?

Notice to Democrats….run this video on a loop at midterms.

"Walmart is a top employer of Medicaid beneficiaries in many states. A study by the Government Accountability Office found that a large portion of Walmart employees were on Medicaid and SNAP.

from FB

Char Generaux

"You've made your choice, MAGA faithful, and now comes the reckoning you never bothered to imagine.

The policies you cheered from the sidelines take on a different complexion when they land on your doorstep, when the theoretical becomes brutally personal.

You celebrated the promise of economic nationalism without considering that tariffs increase your grocery bills. You applauded immigration crackdowns without recognizing that your community's agricultural economy depends on the very workers being deported.

You endorsed authoritarian power without grasping that authoritarians eventually turn on everyone, including their most devoted supporters.

The tragedy isn't just your miscalculation, it's your willful blindness to history's clearest lessons.

Every populist strongman begins by promising to punish "them" while protecting "us", yet the distinction inevitably collapses under the weight of absolute power.

The machinery of oppression, once constructed, operates with its own inexorable logic. You believed that you were exempt from the consequences, that your loyalty will serve as permanent immunity. But Power recognizes no such bargains.

The same forces you unleashed to devastate your perceived enemies will ultimately consume you with equal indifference.

The bitter irony is that you'll likely blame everyone except yourself when the reality you created becomes unbearable.

But by then, the institution that might have protected you will be long gone, dismantled by your own enthusiastic applause."

HIDDEN IN PAGES 300-500 OF HIS BILL GIVES HIM THE AUTHORITY TO INTERFERE WITH VOTES AND SERVE A THIRD TERM OR MORE!!

YOU PEOPLE CRIED "USELESSLY" ABOUT BENEFITS!... THAT'S THE ABSOLUTE LEAST OF YOUR PROBLEMS!!

AND YOU THOUGHT the recent staged and fake arguments with MUSK put him on your side - deflection!...

Soooo, only the POOR and VETERANS commit fraud??... no RICH?? No POLITICIANS? The RICH are the only HONEST and "GOD FEARING" on earth??

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leaawrites · 9 months ago

Text

Espresso (GR63)

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: after the Singapore Grand Prix, his girlfriend is the only thing keeping him awake. Like a shot of espresso.

Warnings: fluff (finally something happy), established relationship, Danny's last race (I'm still crying),

Wordcount: 1k

Masterlist, Short n'Sweet Series

Heat. Exhaustion.

Nothing else was going through anyone’s mind at the end of the Singapore Grand Prix.

Everyone standing on the sidelines felt the adrenaline still rushing through their blood, making them cheer and scream in joy of the results of their favorite driver. Lando standing on the top step once more.

With all the excitement around her, she couldn’t help but feel excited too. The grandstands buzzing. The adrenaline pushing away the feeling of the layer of heat covering her skin. Applauding to all of them who got out of the car, her eyes tearing up when her eyes lingered on Danny’s car for a second longer.

George had told her about the unforeseeable future. The sadness still lingered in her veins even when she saw him step out from his cockpit, walking with his head low. He knew it was gonna happen, she could tell he knew by the way he stayed sat in the car for a second longer, preparing himself for the final time. The final time stepping out from the car he loved for so long.

Squeezing his arm in an attempt of comfort as the man walked past her, she still waited for someone to walk towards her. She wished for the same smile that would grace his face whenever he saw her. The one that told her how much he appreciated her without using words. Looking around for his car and even standing on her tiptoes to gain that extra centimeters she might need to see him, his figure finally caught her eye. Stepping out of he car and having to double over in exhaustion.

A scared look flew over her features, decorating her hopes in concern, seeing her love this tired always made her chest churn. She hated seeing him like this. So small and fragile. She used to say, how he reminded her of a ceramic doll she was too afraid to touch in case she might break him. And with every time she said it, he assured her, that all he needed in those moments was her. That the touch she was so afraid to give was what held him together then.

She couldn’t get closer to him, the barrier keeping her a good distance away. But she saw him supporting his own weight while walking by leaning on the tires of the cars he walked by. He looked like a wounded soldier, finally getting the rescue he deserved. Her.

He felt the blood rush through him fully again, felt the parts of his body that before felt numb from exhaustion. He felt it all by a simple look of her.

The sweet smile on her lips, hanging on by a threat and only being there to make him feel better. His still limping legs moved quicker, collapsing into her as soon as she was in his reach. With his helmet still on he couldn’t feel her how he desired to. And she knew.

Of course she knew, she knew him good enough to know everything that made him feel comfortable or not. She knew how he liked when her finger stroked through his hair late at night to make him fall asleep quicker. She knew how he preferred to hold her close whenever it was possible, always a hand on her waist or their fingers intertwined, her back hugged against him and his arms over her shoulder. His hands or lips would always find her. And after races, he liked to receive a kiss in congratulations or encouragement.

Lifting his head from her shoulder, she helped him free himself from his helmet. As soon as taking it off, she could feel his lips pressed against hers. Still panting and breathing heavy. Still holding on to her with a tight grip just so he wouldn’t collapse. And if he did, at least she would go down with him.

“You make me feel alive, you know?” He mumbled against her lips, making her giggle. A blush rising to her cheeks and a slight roll in her eyes at his poor timing of confession. He still had to go weight himself and make sure he was alright, instead he was there, with her. “Like a shot of espresso, almost.”

“You have to go now,” she reminded him, handing him his helmet back and giving him one last kiss. “I’ll see you later.”

He nodded at her, looking back at the other guys, some still trying to find themselves, before he turned to her again. Looking at her like he had never done before. It was more intense, more meaningful. Another confession followed, “The whole time, while I was trying to keep the car from crashing into the barriers, you were all I’m thinking about. You are all I’m thinking about all the time.”

“I’m gonna be all you’re thinking about after tonight,” she joked, making him break out into a smile. Looking around to see if someone overheard their not so appropriate exchange of words meant to stay behind locked doors. “You were great, you really were.”

“I’m glad I could impress you,” he said, raising his eyebrows in a joking manner. Their banter going back and forth like it always would.

“You always do,” she said, her laughter dying down. “Now impress me and walk over to the check-up without stumbling.” she urged him, lightly pushing his shoulders to make him go back to his duties and do what he was supposed to do this whole time.

He rolled his eyes and groaned as he straightened his back. Turning around he tried to walk as steady as possible, and besides slight wobbly legs, he walked over to where Franco stood, just fine.

Putting his hand on his back to congratulate him on the incredible drive he delivered. Singapore wasn’t an easy track, everyone knew that, but with the effect she had on him, he was able to push through it all. Crossing the finish line just to see the proud look in her eyes she wore whenever he left the car still in one piece.

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oizysian · 11 months ago

Note

You should totally write reader being an actor too and being in avengers and her character is a love interest of Natasha but her and Lizzie have been dating forever anyway. So her character has to be in a scene where Scarlett x R are lovey dovey and kissing and she’s a little :( Like she knows it’s the job but also upsets her to see her kissing other women, even if it is a friend that’s Scarlett. After she’s so possessive, she drags her off to the dressing room to claim her🤭

Jealousy, Jealousy | Elizabeth Olsen

Pairings: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: strap usage, dirty talk, mommy kink

Word count: 1.9k

•

“Kiss me.” I whispered softly, my girlfriend looking deeply into my eyes before gently pressing her lips to mine, mindful of my injury so she didn’t hurt me.

I held her face in my hands and closed my eyes, the soft feel of her lips against mine almost bringing tears to my eyes.

Natasha pulled away and rested her forehead against my own, sighing as she realized this would probably be our last kiss.

“Cut! Beautiful, girls! Absolutely fantastic!”

The cast and crew applauded and Scarlett and I parted, smiling at each other proudly. The scene had been stressful, emotional and draining, but now it was over and it had been completed perfectly.

I looked over at my girlfriend who was watching from the sidelines, looking a little pouty. She was adorable, standing there by herself in her Wanda costume, eyeing us silently.

I made a move to walk over to her when the director caught Scarlett’s and my attention.

“Ladies, we’d like to do scene 22 again, if that’s okay with you both?”

“Sure, that’s fine.” I said, looking towards Scarlett who nodded in agreement.

We went back to our places, Lizzie’s pout deepening as Scarlett got on top of me on the makeshift bed, caressing my face softly.

“And … action!”

“You’ll be okay, I promise.”

“You can’t keep that promise.” I said softly.

“They won’t find you here.”

“They’ll never stop looking for me, Natasha.”

“I’ll kill them all before they touch you.”

“Stop,” I spoke against her lips, inching closer to her. “Just …”

She pressed herself against me, kissing me softly, slipping her tongue into my mouth. I let out a whimper, pulling her down on top of me and grabbing at her greedily.

She began to take off my shirt, kissing my neck as she groped at me.

“Cut! Thank you both! We’re done for today!”

Scarlett handed me back my costume and I smiled in thanks, slipping it back on before getting off of the bed. I rushed over to Elizabeth, excited to be done with filming and would finally be able to spend some time with her.

“Hi, baby.” I said smiling up at her, before realizing she wasn’t smiling back at me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She averted her eyes, looking down at the ground instead of at me.

“Hey,” I said gently, encouraging her to look at me. “Talk to me.”

“Can we talk in my trailer? I really don’t wanna do this in front of everyone.”

“Do what?” I was afraid of her answer.

“Please, just, let’s go.”

She took me by the hand and practically stormed off with me. We made it to my trailer in record time, and I followed in behind her, closing the door behind us.

“What’s going on, Lizzie?”

She turned to face me, her chest heaving, her eyes dark.

“You seemed to really enjoy those scenes you were doing.”

I stared at her blankly, not following her.

“What do you mean?”

“It looked like you had forgotten who you belonged to.”

When her words finally registered in my brain, I flushed a deep red, realizing what she was saying.

“I would never …”

“Are you sure? Because I heard you moan for her.”

“Lizzie, I was just …”

“You were just what, hm, baby?” She approached me slowly, like a cat going after small prey.

“I was acting.” My voice was small, trembling as she pinned me up against the door, caging me in with an arm on either side of me.

“Sounded too real to just be acting.”

“P-please,” I whispered softly. “Lizzie …”

“Please what?”

I could feel her hot breath on my face and I couldn’t help but tremble with need underneath her. She was jealous and it was fucking hot.

“Show me who I belong to.”

“Have you forgotten?”

I shook my head.

She crashed her lips against my own and I melted against her, my mouth opening for her to claim me. She wasted no time in slipping her tongue past my lips and exploring my mouth. I moaned softly, grabbing onto her shoulders and pulling myself up against her.

She pressed her knee between my legs and my breath hitched, pulse racing as my hips moved against her strong thigh.

“Look how needy you are. Is that for me?”

“Yes,” I whined. “Only you.”

“I shouldn’t even touch you, the way you moaned for Scarlett.”

“I-I didn’t.” I whimpered softly, looking up into her eyes desperately.

“Oh no? Shall I ask them to play back the footage?”

“No,” I blushed deeply, knowing she was right. “Don’t do that.”

“Hm.” She put pressure on my core and I let out a whine. “Sounds like you already know what you’ve done.”

“I’m sorry.” I bucked against her and she pulled her leg away from me.

“You know, you’ll have to be punished now, right?”

I nodded, but pouted up at her, hoping to earn some sympathy points with her.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good girl. Now,” she took my hand and led me over to the couch, sitting down and patting her lap. “Lay down.”

I took a deep breath and laid myself down, my ass propped up on her lap. She ran her hand over the swell of my ass before tugging on my pants and bringing them down to my knees.

“Count.”

She rested her hand on my legs before smacking my ass.

“One!” I cried out.

Another smack.

“Two!” I could feel my tears building up in my eyes.

Another hit, and another and another before I lost count and I cried, grabbing at the pillows underneath me, sobbing into them. My panties were soaked and her hand slipping between my legs to check only made them wetter.

“You liked that, huh?”

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

“You’re completely soaked.”

I was so embarrassed. My hips jerked and my body trembled as she touched me through my panties, featherlike touches that I could just barely feel.

“Poor baby. Do you need me to touch you?”

“Yes!” My voice was muffled by the cushion.

She pulled my panties down my legs, letting them meet my pants and slipped her hand between my thighs, her fingers dipping in my heat.

“You’re wet like this just from getting punished?” I nodded sheepishly. “I should punish you more often.”

“No.” I whined. “I want love and kisses.”

“Is that what you want?”

I nodded again.

“What makes you think you deserve it?”

“I’m a good girl.” I said softly. “I counted just like you asked.”

“You did.” She agreed. “But, you also lost count.”

“That’s because you did too many.”

“I did too many?” She asked with faux sympathy. “Well, how many do you think you deserved?” Her fingers moved inside me and I bit back a moan.

“None.”

“None?” Her quiet voice came out surprised. “I don’t think that’s the right answer.”

“Two?”

She pumped her fingers in and out of me twice before she stopped moving completely.

“That’s it?”

“No, more!”

“No more?” She pulled her fingers out of me and I let out a whimpering cry, my hips bucking towards her.

“No, keep going, please!”

“I’m not sure you deserve it.”

“I do. I’m your good girl.” I wiggled my ass, trying to get her to touch me again. “I’ll be so good for you.”

“I’m sure you will.” She rubbed my ass, sure to be gentle. “Do you wanna suck my cock so I can fuck you, love?”

“Yes.” I sniffled and she helped me stand up.

I kicked off my shoes, pants and panties and went over to her bag, digging around inside for the strap I knew she kept in there for situations just like this. I brought it back over to her and got on my knees, making sure to not put too much pressure on my raw ass. She stood from the couch and slipped herself out of her own costume, dropping it on the floor beside mine and stepped into the harness I was holding out for her to get into. She secured it tightly around her hips, moaning as she sat down and stroked the cock at the apex of her thighs.

“Come here, pretty girl.” She said as she grabbed me gently by the hair, pulling me towards her.

I licked my lips excitedly as I approached her, sticking my tongue out so I could lick the tip of the cock.

“That's right, baby,” she guided my head down so I would take the shaft completely in my mouth. “Take mommy’s cock.”

I tried to relax as I took her into my mouth, breathing out of my nose and closing my eyes as she hit the back of my throat. From the sounds she was making, it was almost as if she could feel what I was doing to her. Her hips were jerking upward towards me and she was moaning softly, her fingers threaded through my hair, gripping at it tightly. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought she was close to release.

“I could cum just from watching that pretty mouth wrap around my cock.”

I squeezed my legs together, another gush of wetness spreading between my thighs. Sometimes I couldn’t believe the things she said to me, she was always so fucking hot.

She pulled me off of her, a trail of saliva went from my lips to the tip of her cock and she groaned at the sight.

“You’re so fucking sexy, baby.” She helped me stand and brought me onto her lap, my legs on either side of her and her cock pressing against my core. “You’re gonna ride me, aren’t you, my pretty girl?”

“Yes, mommy,” I took a deep breath and led her to my heat, taking her slowly. “I’m gonna fuck myself on you.”

She leaned back, watching as I took her inch by delicious inch. She bit her lip and took hold of my hips, guiding me down onto her slowly.

“Look at that hungry pussy.” She said, almost in awe. “Look at how well you take me.”

I braced myself on her shoulders, nails digging into her soft skin, as I fucked her. The coil in my belly tightened as I rolled my hips against her, her hands sliding down from my thighs to my pussy where she played with my clit.

My hips jerked and bucked as she thrust up into me, pulling me down onto her and filling me up with her length. I clenched around her as I came, bringing myself closer to her and capturing her lips with my own, kissing her as I rode out my high.

She kissed me back and slapped my raw ass, making me jerk against her.

“Mommy, I’m gonna cum again.” I whispered against her lips and she smiled.

“Cum for me again, baby. Cum for mommy.”

Almost on command, my body shook with pleasure, and I came against her again. She thrust up into me hard, prolonging my high and milking her cock with my greedy cunt.

“You did so good for me, baby.” She breathed against me, peppering kisses all along my face.

I smiled and nuzzled against her, burying my face in the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arms around me and held me close, still inside me.

“You ready for a nap?” I nodded at her words and she held onto me tightly as she adjusted us on the couch, laying us down and cradling me close.

“Stay inside me.” I said softly and she nodded, closing her eyes and relaxing against me.

I sighed happily, kissing her chin and getting comfortable. Maybe scenes with Scarlett had its advantages.

#oizysian writes #anon ask #anon answered #elizabeth olsen x yn #elizabeth olsen story #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen smut #elizabeth olsen x female reader #elizabeth olsen fanfic

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