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trulyhblue · 5 months

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Home Away From Home

Lauren Hemp x Aussie! Reader

Warnings: fluff, but awkward.

A/N — I know Caroline Weir scored the two goals in the Man City game that I talk about, but I've changed it a bit :)

Masterlist

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Growing up in Australia was among the greatest privileges you had as a child.

Even in the midst of your career — a job you've dreamed of since you were little — your home soil was indescribable; nothing could beat the familiarity of home.

When the 2023 World Cup was announced to take place in Australia, you were feeling the effects of homesickness after six long months in Europe. You were signed by Manchester City at Nineteen, playing a critical midfield position after being a regular sub for your old club back in Australia. Your parents were sceptical of you leaving so early to such a big club. In no way were you prepared to face the challenges of adulthood as a whole other country, on the opposite side of the Earth.

You had only been playing for the Matildas for a couple of months when you were first signed to City, and it wasn't until the following year when your fellow Aussie teammates Alanna, and eventually Hayley and Mary, that you had the comfort of home to nurture you during rough patches.

Your family was your biggest supporter. Growing up, they sacrificed everything to meet the needs of their football journey. Your parents would leave early from work early to take you to training and surrender endless personal endeavours so that you could prosper in your dreams of going pro. You were very grateful for all that they had done, and as a result, their sacrifices became your motivation to be the best you could possibly be. You lived and breathed football. Everything revolved around football.

But when you moved to City, you found yourself stuck in a trance by a certain English Blonde.

For the most part, you kept to yourself at training. You didn't want to cause any trouble, and it seemed that most of the girls knew each other from youth squads, prior teams, or roommates at National Camps. You struggled to find your place in the squad at first. Being a relatively young team, you had lots of girls around your age, willing to be your friend, but the absence of home and lack of connection to the United Kingdom combined to make your personality shrink under a dismissive persona.

When Alanna joined City, you offered your apartment to her, having come from North London beforehand. Over the next months, you found comfort in the familiar Aussie accent, finding solace in the sliver of home you felt so distant to.

You still remained shy at training, trying hard and pushing out of your comfort zone every time someone had a conversation with you. Alanna found it hard to believe how introverted you were, having seen your confidence shine at Matilda’s Camps, and the Manchester Girls couldn't believe their ears when Alanna told them about how you were at home.

When Hayley came, you were smiling more. It wasn't that you weren't happy at City before the Australian girls arrived. You were thriving. In the 2020/21 season, you were dubbed as Young Player of The Year and had four ‘Player Of The Match’ awards under your belt. You worked extremely hard to make the starting eleven regularly, and people would often compliment your subtle but impressionable skills on the field. You weren't fast, but you were technical. You thought of the play that hadn't happened yet, shaping the game with unexpected yet calculated crosses. For two years, you had the second most assists in the WSL, merely missing Beth Mead.

In all honesty, the effects of having the reminder of home did help to boost your performance not only on the pitch but behind the scenes as well.

You can remember tapping your hands against the rim of your cubby, your home kit baggy on your figure. It was a very important game today — the final of the FA Women’s League Cup — against reigning champions Chelsea. You were starting, and your family had flown over to watch.

Your nerves upon walking out were tremendous. This was your first time starting in a final in the WSL. You don't remember a time you felt your hands shake this much. Alanna and Hayley were preparing for the match on either side of you, their faces impassive when both teams lined up in the tunnel of Cherry Rose Records Stadium.

Your heart was thumping out of your chest, palms sweating as you took your spot on the field.

When the whistle blew, you tuned everything out.

A powerful shot from Sam Kerr left Chelsea in the lead halfway through the first half. You tried hard to maneuver your way through the likes of Charles and Ingle, passing to Georgia and Keira as you struggled to pass Chelsea’s defence. Lucy was given a yellow which heightened the tension reeling in the stands. You buried the apprehensive bile rising in your stomach when the halftime whistle blew, signalling everyone to rush back to the changing rooms.

You placed your head in your hands, taking slow, desperate sips of your water bottle as you listened to the pep talks from all the players. Gareth Taylor, your manager, was shouting encouragement from across the room, staring into each and every one of your eyes, assuring the team that they could make a comeback.

“I want you to want this.” He said, circling the room with so much fervour that the room felt warmer. “I want to see the determination in your eyes. I want to see it in the tackles, the plays, the kicks, everything. The opportunities you making are good, they just need more precision.”

It was almost the start of the second half when Gareth asked for you, leading you over to the other side of the changing rooms, towards the shorter figure of one of your teammates.

Lauren looked just as nervous as you, but you hoped that you his your nerves a little better than her. Her blonde hair was held up in a pony, and small wisps of baby hairs framed her face after being exempted from the wind. She was a year older than you but has been in Manchester since 2018. Other than the odd, unusual sentence or two, neither of you had properly interacted.

Lauren looked up at you, her beady eyes locking with yours as she licked her lips, exchanging glances with the floor and you, awaiting the purpose of the conversation.

“I want you two to work together this half.” Your Manager urged. Both you and Lauren looked at him in surprise. He must've caught on since he held his hands up. “I know we haven't practised much between the two of you, I know. But Y/N, your crosses over the head of Chelsea defenders will inevitably shape up some opportunities for Hempo. Lauren, you know what to do when something comes up. I believe that truly, alright? Do you understand?”

You were still mulling over Gareth’s words when the whistle blew for the second half, but you felt an uncertain pair of eyes look out for where you kicked the ball. The surveillance of the English forward did not irk you. In fact, it pushed you to do as you were told.

It was two minutes in when an opportunity arose. You were given the ball by Alanna, who had pelted it away after a scary interaction with her and Kerr.

Gareth’s words played in your head, taunting you as the blonde’s eyes watched your actions intently. You were hesitant to do as he said. This was the one game your parents were here to see. Never once had they been to Europe, having not had the money to be able to fund both your football and fancy holidays overseas. You wanted to make them proud. You didn't want to risk such an important opportunity for it to go out or concede and let your team down.

You found Georgia and kicked it by her. She followed it up the middle of the field, passing it to one of your forwards, hand up in celebration when it went past the Goalie.

But for some reason, you couldn't find it in you to celebrate. You refused to meet the eyes of Lauren, who was no doubt throwing you a disappointed glance. You could feel the betrayal radiating in violent waves. You ran back to your starting position without a peep, determined to shake the guilt with another chance. You needed to win this game. You’d do whatever it took to do so.

Another goal from Ellen White led your team one in front, but it gave no comfort whatsoever in a game like this. If anything, it put the stakes higher. You hated penalties, the feeling of dread and anxiety filling you everything you watched each player attempt to concede. Even more so, you hated taking penalties. The possibility of that happening was enough to motivate you even more.

Guro Reiten was subbed off for Lauren James. A fresh pair of legs was dangerous coming up to the seventieth minute.

Chelsea was drawing closer and closer to equalizing with your second goal, causing an uprise in the tension between both the teams and the people watching. You grew more angsty when one of their attempts hit the crossbar, but when it landed near Keira’s feet, being shot past to where you stood, you knew this was now or never.

You sprinted down the wing with Georgia by your side, but you were only focused on the blonde in front of you.

“Here! Here!” Georgia screamed, holding out her hand to signal to you that she was ready. You contemplated it. There had been many times when Georgia had done that, and you had crossed the ball to her, and she had easily swished it past the goalie. You never doubted Georgia for a second, and you definitely knew she would've been able to shoot from where she was — she was clearly onside. But the Chelsea defenders had studied your gameplay back to front, and the same old cross to Georgia was something they had trained for — something you had trained for.

Something clicked in your mind when you met Lauren’s eyes. Something ignited inside of you. She must've felt it too, because she didn't even reach her hand up to signal towards you.

You both just knew what was happening. And that it would work. It had to work.

Without much thought, you kicked the ball to your right, watching as Chelsea gaped in alarm at the unsuspected pass and turn to and from Lauren.

You held your breath, stationery at the sight of Lauren’s risky attempts. She found a steady pace along the sideline stepping past Jess Carter, keeping her back turned to the goal. She used the back of her heel to trick both Carter and Berger. She had scored. Manchester City were winning 3-1.

You were the first to scream, a massive smile on your face as you ran towards Lauren, who spun to find you amidst the swarm of Chelsea players.

The two of you ran into each other with so much force that you both toppled to the ground, rolling around as the rest of your team piled on top of you.

The girls were screaming, you could hear the distant cheers of people in the stands. You heard Lauren’s exhausted huffs as you shovelled your head into her neck. Neither of you said anything. You both just had the silent agreement that what you did was game-changing, and that the non-existent relationship between you was no longer.

Despite the desperate attempts from the London team, the final whistle blew with the score maintaining a healthy lead. Your legs gave out as soon as the game ended, tears threatening to spill from your eyes and onto your cheeks as the weight of the season lifted from your shoulders. You felt a pair of arms lift you up, turning you around. The hug was only recently familiar, but tangible nonetheless.

Lauren held her arms around your waist, leaving you to collapse your arms over her shoulders. You watched her chest rise and fall, however, so slowly, a few choked sobs rang out from the older girl.

“I thought you weren't ‘gonna pass to me.” She said. You don't remember her ever speaking to you directly, but the attention made you blush.

“You could've gotten a double if I did.” You uttered, pulling her out of the hug. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She replied, her cheeks also dusted pink. “I'm just glad it was your assist.”

You wondered if she was trying to make you flustered because you noticed how fidgety she got when you eyed her nervously.

“I mean like— I like you— wait, no, well— I like your assist-”

“Same. I mean— I'm glad you scored from my assist. Like— okay wait that doesn't make sense.”

“I get what you’re saying. That's what I meant.” Lauren muttered back, rubbing the back of her neck in embarrassment. “I wouldn't have wanted anyone else to assist me… in goals.”

“Yeah, same… in goals, yeah.”

Little did you know, your Aussie teammates Hayley and Alanna were standing next to Keira and Georgia, all overlooking the inept exchange between the two of you.

“God, you call that flirting.” Georgia laughed, the other three chuckling along. “Wouldn't want to see what their dates would look like.”

“Bloody painful, that's what.” Alanna sounded, taking a picture of the two of you.

“Wouldnt of expected anything different, to be honest. Both as awkward as each other.” Keira spoke.

And you were as awkward as each other, but that made for the perfect pair. A home away from home.

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