#canxnt x reader

[flemingsfreckles]

Be a Good Teammate

Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader

Words: 3.4k

Preview: After Jessie misses her penalty in the Gold Cup semi final, she’s found practicing kicks by her old friend and college teammate.

Warnings: some cursing, a little angst, but nothing else too crazy.

A/N: I haven’t written anything in maybe 4-5 years. Recently fallen back into reading and then watching the Canada/US game sparked some inspiration and here we are writing again.

You could hear her before you saw her. You had come out of the dressing room well after the rest of your teammates. They hardly showered just throwing on fresh clothes in a rush to begin their celebration for moving on to the finals of the Gold Cup. The stadium had fallen silent with the exception of a faint noise coming from the far end of the tunnel toward the pitch.

It was the repetitive sound of a ball being kicked followed shortly by the swish of the net. One after the next, boot on ball, swish of the net, boot on ball swish of the net. Working like a clock, a perfect machine, that was until the sound of the net was replaced by the ringing of the crossbar and the frustration of the kicker.

“Stupid fucking penalty” a frustrated voice rang out. The sound of the voice halted your steps, you knew that voice. Jessie. You quickly recognize the voice as your former best friend and UCLA teammate. Once you hear her, you quickly realized what was happening.

You’d seen her do this when you played together, anything from missed headers, missed passes, missed shots, and now with missed penalties. Jessie was known for being a hard worker, her focus and determination was admirable by her teammates and led her to earning the right to wear the captain's armband. She pushed herself to be better and while it was that mentality that turned her into one of Canada’s best, it also came with a whole other side.

She was hard on herself, more so than anyone else, and she took it to extremes. You had watched in college as she would spend hours watching film of her mistakes, tearing her performances apart, nitpicking every step she took. Criticizing every mistake to the point of obsession. One bad touch or one missed scoring opportunity would cloud her brain, unable to focus on anything else until she could fix that mistake, that mistake was all that would matter to Jessie.

“Be a good teammate to yourself Jessie.” Those were the words you told her constantly in college when you’d find her overworking herself. Running extra laps after an already grueling practice. Taking extra shots after a game, refusing to stop the repetitions until they were in her eyes, perfect. “Treat yourself how you treat all your other teammates, you support us, you provide positive corrections, you're kind. Talk to yourself the same way you talk with me or anyone else on this team, be a good teammate to yourself.”

And that’s how you knew exactly what Jessie was doing out on that field. She was retaking her penalty from earlier in the game, the one she had kicked into the arms of your team’s goalkeeper, letting you and your teammates erupt in celebration behind her as she walked with her head down to her team’s bench.

Now you are stuck with your brain telling you to let her be, she’s not going to want to see you, especially on a night like tonight. Just go celebrate with your teammates, you thought.

You and Jessie had been close in college, so close most of your teammates were convinced you two were secretly dating. And to be fair to them, you wish you’d made a move on Jessie but you didn’t. Too worried about losing your friend and still trying to figure out yourself in the process. Now your college days were years behind you and you both moved away after graduation to play professionally, her with Chelsea and now in Portland and you with Bayren Munich and more recently with Seattle.

Your communication with your former best friend had rapidly declined over the years, you both got caught up in your new lives, new clubs, and Jessie had gotten a girlfriend. It wasn’t public information at the time but you were close enough that she shared the news, gushing about the girl over one of your nightly phone call. You knew deep down that girl is what pushed you away. Even though you knew it was never going to work out between you and Jessie, it didn’t make hearing about her new girl any less painful.

So you pulled back, with going from long facetime calls, to short catch ups, to texts. It seemed mutual as Jessie followed suit reaching out less frequently. She figured you were busy and had forgotten about her, seeing you make new friends in your new teams. These days you were lucky if you saw a “nice game” “congrats on the win” or even “happy birthday” come across your phone from the Canadian.

No bad blood stood between you two that she was aware of, except for maybe right now as you stood wearing the crest of the team that had just ended her tournament hopes.

While your brain was telling you to head for the parking lot and leave, forgetting you heard her taking the shots, your heart refused to let your feet move in any direction but toward the pitch. As you turned the corner she came into view. The bright white 17 with FLEMING printed neatly across the back of her red jersey became visible as you watched her set up her next round of shots.

Now you were frozen again, standing just inside the edge of the pitch, only your eyes moving, watching as she placed a ball, moved backward, took a deep breath and took the shot. It sailed into the upper left of the net. You watched as Jessie once again stepped back to ready herself, having already placed the next ball while you were watching her first one go in the net. Again she took a breath and fired into the net. She continued just as you had heard her before, booting the ball into the net. Over and over and over.

The stadium that had previously been filled with fans shouting, coaches calling out, music, liveliness was now eerily silent, just the sound of Jessie methodical work taking place. You weren’t even sure how long you had been standing there watching her, you’d maybe seen her take 10 or 12 shots, all screaming into the back of the net. The systematic movement and sound had lulled you into zoning out, only snapped back into reality when you realized the noise had stopped.

Jessie was moving toward the goal, collecting all the balls she had kicked, only now you could hear her mumbling to herself. Unable to make out what she was saying, you watched as she continued moving all the balls back to start her drill once again. She had turned around, her face more visible to you, eyes still down looking at the balls she was kicking. You could see her cheeks were still bright red and her skin was shiny with sweat, or maybe it was rain. Her mumbling had turned into her regular voice, allowing you to make out every couple of words.

“idiot…if I just made it… don’t deserve this…” You watched her rip the captain's armband from her bicep, throwing it aside.

You felt your chest grow tight, seeing and hearing Jessie so angry at herself was painful. She was the kindest soul, she had been your first friend at school and one of the only ones who stuck around through all 4 years. the only thing she didn’t deserve is to feel this way about her performance.

Maybe i should leave, you thought, let her work through this, she’ll be okay with some time, how much can you really help at this point, it’s over, there’s no point in making her more upset and,

“FUCK” Jessie’s voice intrudes into your thoughts as she punts the last ball with such anger that instead of landing just outside the box like the rest, she sends it sailing, landing only a couple of feet from you. You look at the ball rolling toward your feet, being slowed greatly by the wet grass.

“Sorry,” Jessie hollers with a wave and a different, more polite tone in her voice. She begins jogging over to you, “I didn’t realize they were coming to do pitch maintenance already, I’ll pack up and go-“ she starts to ramble as you realize she hasn’t noticed that it’s you who is standing in front of her.

You move your eyes down at the grass, kicking some up unsure of what to do now while you wait for her to reach you and realize you’re in fact not the maintenance crew.

“What are you doing here?” Her accusatory tone returns and you look up to meet her eyes. Just as you’d seen from across the field her cheeks remained bright red, a layer of sweat making her whole face shine. Her lips are slightly parted and her breathing is quick. Her brown eyes that you used to stare at everyday are now puffy, as though she shed some tears following the game and you can’t help but stare for a second at her black eye. She cocks her head at you and you realize she’s waiting for an answer.

“Um, I just… I heard you. And I just wanted to check on you,” you realize you should’ve spent some of the time you were watching her kick thinking of what to say to her.

“I don’t need your pity party,” Jessie scoffs at you “don’t you have some celebrating to do?”

“I’m not here to pity you,” her change in tone makes you get defensive.

“Then what? You’re here to tell me it’s okay? That it’s fine it’s just a penalty, and maybe it feels that way to you,” she stabs her index finger into your chest, her touch surprises you. Both being midfielders you had contact during the game but that was different.

Before you were just the opponent in the same way she was yours, you were aware of her but in that moment she was just Jessie Fleming, a Canada’s midfielder who you needed to get the ball from. Now she was Jess, the girl you were roommates with, the girl whose shoulder you fell asleep on during a long travel day, the girl who you tutored in calculus while she in return tutored you in physics. Her whole face now just inches from yours. You share a similar height with the midfielder, leaving you eye to eye. You can feel her breath as she continues.

“You made your penalty, and you don’t have to wear the armband, you don’t have to sit with the expectation of never missing a penalty, but I do. And you didn’t let your whole team down, I did. So maybe it seems like not a big deal to you because you’re not the one going home!”

You feel like sinking into one of the puddles on the grass, this was a bad idea, you shouldn’t have bothered her. Before you can think of something to say Jessie starts again.

“Nothing? You have nothing to say to me? Then again, why did you come out here? To gloat? Because last time I checked, we’re not even friends anymore and that’s no fault of mine, that was all you, you ignored me, so why even bother? Just leave me alone, go away.”

Her words telling you that she doesn’t even consider you a friend anymore, sting. Sure it was nowhere near like it was before but you still would classify Jessie as a friend. You have every urge to tell her the truth, that you couldn’t stand seeing her with someone else and to protect yourself you took a step back. You wanted to tell her you never meant for it to silence your relationship, you just wanted to respect hers and that meant distancing yourself. Instead, you opted with the easy way out, “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” her brown eyes roll as she turns away from you.

“Jess, wait,” the short form of her name falling out of your mouth on accident. Hoping she’ll stay, you reach out grabbing her wrist preventing her from turning all the way away from you.

“I promise I didn’t come here to give you pity, honestly I’m not sure what I’m doing here.” You feel her shake your grasp from her wrist but instead of leaving she turns back facing you. “I just, I heard you and, I,” You try looking into her eyes but she’s staring at her hands that are fidgeting with the hem of her jersey.

“You already said that.” Jessie cuts you off

“I know, I know, I just,” you bring your hands up to cover your eyes rubbing your fingers along your forehead, hoping you’ll be able to squeeze the right words out of your brain. “I think I wanted to see you.” You admit finally, hoping it’s not too much at the moment.

“We just played 120 minutes against each other, you had plenty of chances to see me.” She throws back at you, her brown eyes still avoiding yours.

You begin to feel a tightness in your throat, a feeling all too familiar to you, making it harder to breathe, you start blinking away the tears that are trying to surface. You’re grateful she isn’t looking at your face. you recognize the same emotions that you felt when she had told you she was in a relationship.

Jessie had been so excited to tell you, and you tried your best to act excited for her, you really did. You had forced yourself to ask questions you really didn’t want to know the answers to. Asking about their first date, first kiss, other firsts, what Jessie liked about her, providing the typical best friend interrogation. What Jessie didn’t know was when she had hung up the phone, telling you she had to go as she was going to spend the night at her girlfriend’s, the tightness had taken over and you burst into tears.

In the moment it didn’t make sense to you, you summed it up to missing her and missing spending time with her. It took a couple months to realize your feelings were ones of jealousy. You wanted to be the girl she spent her nights with. You wanted Jessie to call up Janine and gush about you, not some other girl. And that’s when you started to pull away.

“That’s not the same, I, I just wanted to see you,” you let out a shaky breath, trying to relax before tears spill over, “I miss you.” The words come out as a whisper, almost quiet enough that you hope Jessie didn’t hear and you can move on.

A silence falls between the two of you, Jessie’s fingers are still playing with the hem of her shirt, her eyes glued to them. You look up, staring at what would be a starry night had it not been for the rain clouds covering the sky. It feels like time stops, neither of you moving, no one says anything. You stand there, looking up, while Jessie stands, looking down.

“Why now?” Jessie’s voice cracks, you can’t tell for a second if she’s looking for an answer but she continues on, “You could’ve called, or at least texted.”

“It takes you 3 to 5 business days to respond to a text.” A small laugh comes out as you say the sentence, hoping it’ll lighten the mood.

“I know, but for you,” she pauses slightly, “I would’ve answered in a heartbeat.”

Her words catch you off guard and you swing your head down. You unexpectedly meet Jessie's eyes. She’s got one hand running through her damp hair, the other resting by her side. Her stare feels intense, being under her watch gives you a feeling that sits somewhere between comfort and cowardice.

You’re lost for words, racking your brain for the right thing to say. Part of you says fuck it, tell her you love her, that you want her in every way, tell her you were jealous, you couldn’t stand seeing her with another girl, you want her to be yours and only yours.

The other and far more logical part of you says push it down, you don’t want to scare her off, you want your friend back, even if it means hearing about her girlfriend.

You’re saved from having to make a choice between the angel and devil that split your brain as your phone buzzed and a slew of texts from Lynn and Midge came in. You quickly grab your phone from your sweatpant pocket, turning the ringer off to silence the tone from going off again. You quickly skim the texts which consist of variations of ‘where are you’. You catch the time at the top of your screen realizing the game had ended nearly 2 hours ago. Sure, you had done some media, showered, and changed, but you hadn’t realized how late it was and just how long you had been standing around either watching or talking with Jessie.

“You should probably join them.” Jessie says, almost as if she could see your texts from your teammates asking when you were going to be at the bar.

“Yeah I probably should, I didn’t realize the time. The last thing I need is them sending a search party and finding me with the enemy.” You nudge her with your elbow. She gives you a quick tight lipped smile.

“I’ll uh, I’ll see you around?” You add in a raise in your voice in hopes she takes that as an invitation.

“I don’t know,” Jessie pauses, eyebrows creasing as she thinks of what to say next. “It’s just, I’m dealing with a lot right now, moving, captain responsibilities, some personal things. I just don’t know if I can add another thing on my plate right now. Maybe give me some time?” Her response isn’t the one you wanted, but you realize it’s better than a complete shutdown on her end. At least some small part of her was open to letting you back in.

“Of course, I understand the moving countries part, I mean. The rest of your stuff I don’t know about, I mean the personal stuff, and then the captain part.” You find yourself rambling at her. “But yeah that’s fine. I’ll be going.” You point your thumb in the direction of the tunnel.

She turns away, this time you let her walk away. You watch her for a moment before turning yourself and heading back to the tunnel toward your car. Just when you reach the start of the tunnel you hear it again. The sound of Jessie’s boot kicking the ball and the sound of the ball hitting the net. You turn around watching as she grabs another ball between her hands, rolls it around and then bends down to place it.

“Hey Fleming,” you call to her as she releases the ball on the ground and starts to map out her steps. You watch as she turns back over her shoulder locking eyes with you, raising her eyebrows nonverbally acknowledging your call, “Be a good teammate to yourself.”

You carry on to the parking lot, picking up your phone and calling Lynn to let her know you were leaving the stadium now. While you were too distracted on the phone, what you didn’t realize was the absence of the sound of Jessie kicking the ball.

Your words had caught her off guard, she hadn’t heard it in a few years, you last said it to her after she had a rough game at Chelsea. The simple phrase brought back feelings surrounding you that she had pushed down for a while now. She stood, staring at the ball she had just placed, taking a deep breath like she did before every penalty. Only this time, instead of stepping toward the ball with force, she simple walked toward it, picked it up and headed to grab the bag and clean up. She realized she had punished herself enough, the loss still hurt, but with your words and the smile on your face as you said it fresh in her mind, it hurt a little less.

[gotham--fc]

Hotheaded - A Jessie Fleming Imagine

Request: Jessie and R play on the same team and someone gets angry at R and gets in her face and Jessie steps in to stop it

Y/N knows she’s the hothead in her relationship. Jessie is just always so calm and collected, and even when she’s not, she usually vents her frustrations to the ref or her own teammates. Y/N takes her frustrations out on the other team. It leads to confrontations on the field, warnings from the ref and her fair share of cards. If someone is going to push her buttons, she’s going to make them regret it.

It’s a chippy game. Both teams are tired, both in playoff pushes, and both feel the need to take all three points from this match. Games like these always end in a plethora of bruises and feeling incredibly sore the next day, but it’s also games like these that get Y/N fired up.

“You’re not good enough to stop me so you gotta foul me instead, huh?” Y/N says after the other team’s defender trips her again.

“Maybe if you weren’t so focused on me you could finally hit a shot on target,” The other player smirks at her and Y/N huffs in frustration.

Y/N leaves the defender where she is and goes to set up for the set piece. The game is deadlocked and Y/N will be damned if the other team scores first.

The kick comes to nothing, and Y/N claps her hands together. Next chance, next chance she’ll score it.

A few minutes later, Y/N streaks down the wing calling for the ball and easily dekes around her defender and dribbles the ball towards the net. She cuts to the middle and she can feel it, this is the chance, there’s only the goalie in her way, and she knows she can beat her, she knows she’ll score, she – she falls face first on the ground. She spits grass out of her mouth and looks up at the defender who pushed her.

“Ref that’s a red!” Y/N yells. The defender scoffs.

“I barely touched you, you dove.”

Y/N ignores her.

“Ref! Are you gonna card her or what?”

The ref runs over and gives the defender a warning, that’s it, a warning and nothing more. Y/N is furious. She’s off her feet trying to plead her case to the ref, but the ref won’t hear it. Y/N stares at the ref in helpless frustration as the ref ignores her.

“Leave it Y/N,” Jessie tugs Y/N’s arm, “Get ready for the free kick.”

Jessie goes to the get the ball, placing it where the ref indicates. Y/N goes to where she’s supposed to stand. The defender jogs past her and looks over her shoulder as she does.

“Yeah, go listen to your little girlfriend. Do you always let her boss you around or are you more than just talk?”

“Why don’t you say that to my fucking face?!” Y/N yells, “Fucking coward, you’ve had enough to say to my back this whole game!”

The defender whips back around, charging forward and getting in Y/N’s face. Y/N doesn’t back down, getting up in hers right back. They’re yelling insults at each other, both waiting for the other to make the first move. The defender lightly pushes Y/N back so Y/N slaps her hands away and gives her a push, a harder one. It only dissolves from there, both of them shouting and pushing and their teammates trying to pull them apart, the ref blowing the whistle.

“Stop!” Jessie’s voice shouts above the rest. “You’ll get a red if you keep acting like this! We need you in this game Y/N! She’s not worth it!”

Finally the pair are separated enough. Y/N is still glaring at her, daring at her to say something else so they can start up again. Jessie grabs the sides of Y/N’s face and turns her away.

“Stop it, we need you in this game,” Jessie repeats, “Do you want to win this game?”

“Of course I want to win! I also want to punch her in her stupid–”

“Do you want to win or do you want a red and a suspension for fighting?” Jessie asks, “She’s not worth it, let it go.”

Y/N sighs. She’s not ashamed to admit it, she’s whipped. Everyone knows there’s only one person who can calm her down when she gets like this and it’s Jessie. Y/N would do anything Jessie says, even if it cost her personal pride and street cred. She doesn’t care what anyone thinks of her, especially the idiots on the other team. All that matters is what Jessie thinks of her, that Jessie knows Y/N would do anything for her.

Jessie scores the free kick and Y/N is the first one to her, lifting her up in the air as their teammates swarm them. As they jog back to half, Y/N makes eye contact with the defender. She smirks.

“It’ll be a long bus ride home to think about the loss, huh?”

Y/N shrugs when Jessie gives her a look. She’ll do anything for Jessie, but she can’t change who she is.

[imaginewoso]

I Like Your Jersey - Jessie Fleming

A flustered Jeff trying to talk to reader wearing a Chelsea jersey in coffee shop (with a little help from everyone’s favourite wingwoman Janine).

“Just go talk to her,” Janine said with a smirk on her face once she realized Jessie wasn’t paying attention to a single word she was saying.

After a long training session prepping for their pre-Concacaf Championship friendlies, the two had decided to spend their free afternoon in the city. Which is how they found themselves in a quaint coffee shop in Toronto staring at a patron at the back table—huge textbooks laid out in front of her and a dark blue Chelsea jersey adorning her torso.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jessie puffed out as she averted her eyes back to the steaming cup in front of her, cheeks red from having been caught staring.

“Come on, Jeffrey,” Janine whined. “She’s cute, super smart if the books she’s reading are any indication, and she’s a Chelsea fan. You’ve been staring at her since we got in here. Go make a move already.”

“I can’t just go up to her, she’s clearly busy,” Jessie tried to argue as they both looked to the stranger whose furrowed brow deepened with every second she spent glaring at the page in front of her.

“She looks like she can use a break actually. Just a quick ‘hello, my name’s Jessie, what’s yours? I love your jersey, I’m also a big Chelsea fan, I kinda play for them sometimes. Oh hey, by the way, I think you’re super attractive and I want to kiss you,’” the blonde teased.

“Janine!” the midfielder exclaimed as she put her hands to her face in an attempt to contain the heat creeping up her neck.

“Am I wrong?” the older girl asked, a smug look on her face. It was always so easy to get the brunette flustered.

“…no,” Jessie mumbled reluctantly while sinking into her seat, clearly embarrassed.

“Jess, I’ve never seen you this interested in anybody,” the blonde said earnestly. For as long as Janine knew her, Jessie had lived and breathed football. No matter how many people asked her out (and there were a lot), or how often the team tried to set her up with someone (too many times to count), Jessie just didn’t engage, preoccupied instead with improving her skills. To say Janine was shocked when she realized her best friend had been sneaking glances across the coffee shop was an understatement. Which is why she was determined to get her to at least say hi to the girl. Besides, the rest of the team would never let her live it down if she didn’t at least try to be a proper wingwoman.  

“Look, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but what’s the worst that can happen? Channel some of that on-field confidence. If nothing else, you guys can bond over your love of the wrong shade of blue,” Janine ended dramatically, always ready to make a dig on behalf of her former club.  

Jessie looked at Janine, and then back at the girl, contemplating her options. She’d never felt this way before. Her eyes were glued to her the moment they entered the coffee shop. Though she was drawn in by the familiar blue Chelsea kit, she couldn’t look away from the slight pout on the girl’s lips whenever she seemingly read a confusing sentence, or the way she politely smiled up at the barista bringing her a refill.

Jessie was smitten. She knew Janine was right. She couldn’t not talk to her.

“Okay, yeah I can do this,” she said more to herself than to her now beaming teammate in front of her.

Jessie got up from her seat before she could talk herself out of it. She  slowly made her way over, internally hyping herself up as she walked the short distance. Her breath hitched when the girl looked up with a small tilt to her head, curiously eyeing the midfielder who planted herself in front of the back table.

“I like your jersey,” Jessie blurted out, Janine’s entire speech long gone from her mind as she looked into beautiful Y/E/C eyes.

“Thanks, I quite like it myself,” the girl rasped back with a small smile on her face. When met with silence, she quirked her left eyebrow, staring as the soccer player’s face seemed to get more red with every second that passed. “I’m Y/N,” she said and put a hand out toward the shy brunette.

“Y/N,” Jessie whispered to herself, not moving and inch. That is, until she heard a not-so-quiet whisper coming from behind her, “shake her hand and tell her your name, Jeff.”

“Right, yeah, I’m Jeff, wait no not Jeff, Jess. Jessie,” the midfielder rushed out in one breath before exhaling loudly, annoyed at her stumbling. She took a moment to gather herself. “Hi, I’m Jessie,” she said, voice wavering only slightly as she finally shook the hand still out in front of her, gasping slightly at the spark she felt.

“It’s nice to meet you Jessie,” Y/N responded to the clearly flustered girl with a small chuckle.

More silence.

Janine smacked her hand to her forehead as she watched her friend stare at Y/N, not letting go of her hand. She shook her head before beginning a coughing fit in an attempt to snap the brunette out of her daze. The things she did for the girl.

Jessie, concerned, turned around (her and everyone else in the shop). Janine winked at her while graciously accepting the water brought over by a nice worker, proud her plan seemed to successfully snap her teammate out of it.

The midfielder turned back toward Y/N, reluctantly letting go of her hand. “Are you a big fan? Of Chelsea?” She paused, considering her question. “Obviously you are, you’re wearing a jersey, sorry that was a silly question,” the brunette spluttered out once she realized what she had asked.

“I am, yeah,” Y/N responded softly. “They were my dad’s favourite team. I grew up watching Lampard and Drogba so the support kind of came naturally,” she reminisced.

“Definitely not a hard team to fall in love with,” Jessie said, grateful Y/N didn’t seem to mind her rambling. She found herself getting more comfortable in the conversation—football she could definitely talk about. “Do you play?” the brunette asked, hoping to keep the conversation going.

“I used to. School takes up a little bit too much of my time right now. This summer class is kicking my butt,” the girl sighed tiredly, looking at the pile of books in front of her.

“What class?” the midfielder asked, eyeing the textbooks and the UofT Law water bottle she hadn’t noticed before.

“Environment and the law. Figured I’d try and knock some credits out in the summer but they really aren’t lying when they call them intensives,” Y/N said jokingly.

“Oh no way, I minored in environmental science,” Jessie exclaimed excitedly at finding out they shared yet another interest.

“Actually?” Y/N asked, eyes lighting up.

Jessie sat down on the empty chair, swept up into the conversation. Her teammates loved to tease her whenever she brought up random geography or biology facts (all in good fun of course) but it was nice to be able to talk to someone equally as passionate as her.

The two chatted animatedly, Y/N explaining the class content and Jessie responding with her own knowledge and some anecdotes from her time at UCLA. They were in their own world, content with the back and forth conversation.

*****

“Hey, I really don’t mean to interrupt but we have to head back now. Team meeting starts in a half hour,” Janine said, reluctantly, wanting nothing more than to let the two keep talking. Jessie looked up, disappointment clear on her face.

“I should also get back to this,” Y/N said, arms gesturing to the mess on the table in front of her.  

“Right, yeah, sorry. I didn’t realize how long it’s been,” Jessie said apologetically, standing up. She hadn’t noticed just how much time had passed since she first approached the back table. It felt like she had been there for no longer than 10 minutes.

“No need. Thank you for the very needed distraction and the lovely chat,” Y/N said genuinely, with a kind smile that made the midfielder’s brain turn to mush.

“Totally,” she said breathlessly, unable to get anything else out while the girl looked at her like that. Lucky for her, Janine was there to fill the silence.

“You know, Jess can probably hook you up with some Chelsea tickets if you’re ever in London. She’s got a few connections. You guys should exchange numbers,” the blonde tried to subtly find a way to make sure her friend did not leave this coffee shop without a way to contact the girl. Jessie’s wide-eyed look an indication that her attempts at subtlety were not at all successful. A slight nudge to Jessie’s elbow by her teammate spurred her into action.

“Oh definitely. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen them play but if not you’ve gotta see your favourite player in person at least once in your life,” Jessie rushed out, grateful for Janine’s push but still very flustered.

“I’m actually gonna see my favourite player in action in a couple of days,” Y/N smiled as Jessie tried to work out how that could be with the men’s season nearly over.

“I like number 17,” Y/N clarified at the look of confusion.

“17? There’s no 17 on the squad. Is he new?” the Chelsea player questioned, confused by Y/N’s statement. She’d for sure know if the men suddenly signed someone with the same number as her.

“Who said anything about he,” Y/N said while turning around and lifting her hair slightly to reveal the name written on her back in bright white letters—

J. Fleming.

“That’s my name,” Jessie whispered in disbelief. “I-I’m your favourite player?” she asked, voice wavering slightly. She couldn’t believe the girl in front of her was wearing her jersey.

“I’m a big fan of your game, Jessie Fleming,” Y/N said with a small smirk on her face as she took in the shocked looks on the girl’s face.

“She’s definitely talking about your on-field game,” Janine mumbled to a still-frozen Jessie, a smile on her face (she could not wait to talk to her teammates).

“Why didn’t you say anything?” the midfielder finaly asked shyly.

“You weren’t the only one who was a little nervous. It’s not every day a cute footballer approaches you to have a chat,” Y/N chuckled as Jessie turned red for what felt like the 5th time since she entered the shop.

Just as Jessie went to respond, Janine’s phone went off with text messages asking where the two were.

“We gotta go, Jeff,” the blonde said apologetically, waving goodbye to the girl in front of her. “Bye Y/N, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around,” Janine said with a smirk as she gave the two some privacy before they had to leave.

“You’re coming to the game on Sunday?” Jessie asked, hopefully.

“Definitely wouldn’t miss it,” Y/N told the brunette with a firm nod.

“Okay good. I mean not good like good you better be there but good I’m glad you’re coming type of way,” Jessie sighed at herself, turning slightly toward Janine to see her patiently waiting at the door. “It was really lovely meeting you,” the midfielder recovered from her earlier ramblings with a genuine smile in Y/N’s direction.

“You too, Jessie Fleming.”

Jessie stared at the girl, biting her lip. Y/N looked at her, and back toward Janine, expecting the football player to make her way toward her friend and out of the coffee shop. What she didn’t expect was for Jessie to take one of her pens and write out a ten digit number on the corner of her notebook.

“Okay, that’s my number. Maybe after the game we can grab a coffee or something?” Jessie finally managed to get out, blushing as soon the words left her mouth.

“I’d like that,” Y/N responded, watching as the footballer smiled, nodded and headed out the door, one last glance back  before she disappeared.

*****

Jessie liked Y/N’s jersey, especially when she saw it in the stands a couple of days later when they played South Korea.

But, she liked the girl in the jersey—her jersey—a whole lot more.

[slimthicksonnett]

You (Jessie Fleming)

A/N: In honor of an interesting Canada win tonight, here's this that my brain decided y'all needed. As always, I absolutely didn't proofread.

Prompt: Jessie Fleming. Pool. Teammates. Post-Olympic. Flirting.

Rated: S for Saucy and T for Tension

Word Count: 3,000ish

Team Canada knew how to party.

The whole team was at, well actually you couldn’t quite remember where you were at. You knew it was someone's house and you knew they had a big ass pool and that there was more alcohol. 

It was like Gold Medalists weren’t allowed to drink anything else. It had been almost a week since you’d won at the Olympics and you couldn’t recall being sober since. Honestly, being in the pool was probably the closest you’d been to having any water.

“How are you not cold?” You looked up from where you were treading water to see none other than your teammate, Jessie Fleming.

The sun was long past set but luck seemed to be on your side as a full moon lit up the dark summer sky. The cold light of the moon paired with the blue light of the pool seemed to make the freckled midfielder take on some sort of unearthly glow as she came to settle at the pool's edge. For once, her hair was down and while you loved it, you did find yourself missing the familiar flyaways that so often framed her face. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” Swimming over to meet her, you let your eyes travel over her bare chest. Even in this low light, you could watch the red warmth that spread over her skin as she seemingly suddenly remembered that she wasn’t wearing a shirt. 

“It was hot inside.” She grumbled, bringing the beer bottle she was holding up to her lips. Admittedly, you got a little lost in the movement. There wasn’t anything deliberately sensual about the action but you found yourself having to force your eyes away as a drip slipped past her lips and down her chin. 

“Mhm, that’s why I’m in the pool.” By this point you had crossed your arms up on the rough concrete edge beside where Jessie sat. In an attempt to look anywhere but at your teammate, you rested your chin on top of your arms and looked up to search for stars. 

“To cool down?” You looked over when she asked the question and weren’t too surprised to find her intense eyes already staring down at you. Jessie was incredibly intelligent; her eyes always gave that away. Looking into Jessie’s eyes was like you were begging her to unpack every single secret you’ve ever kept. 

And, well, begging wasn’t beneath you.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure how well it’s working anymore.” The blush spreading across your cheeks was bright enough to rival even Jessie’s but you never really knew how to back down from a challenge. It didn’t matter how badly you might hurt or embarrass yourself. While it might get you in trouble on the pitch sometimes, it didn’t seem to be harming you here. 

“Hm. Well, can I join you?”

And it wasn’t a question, not really. 

She had hardly even finished asking before she was setting down the beer bottle and standing up. Your eyes followed her hands as they undid the button of her ripped jeans. You could feel the hesitation to go further and you let your eyes flit up to meet hers again. The look in her eyes was softer now, the blush just a little bit higher up her cheeks, and her bottom lip was trapped between her teeth. 

Giggling softly, you slipped off the edge of the pool and pushed back out into the deeper water. While Jessie was equally as competitive, if not more, she cared much more about being embarrassed. And you respected that about her, so you just playfully rolled your eyes and turned around to face the opposite side of the pool. 

You could hear her behind you. The sound of the zipper and the rustling of fabric against skin as she slid out of pants was almost as loud as the sound of your heart absolutely hammering in your chest. It wasn’t that you were thinking particularly hard about what was happening behind you, it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen Jessie change before. Hell, you two had played together since you were just baby Canadians. You’d shared everything from lockers to beds over the years. But for the first time you thought that maybe you actually wanted to see Jessie change. Needing to steady yourself, you swam to grab at the edge of the pool again with one hand. As it turns out, trying to tread water while having a gay awakening is harder than you’d think. 

As it also turns out, treading water while having a gay awakening makes you tune things out like the sound of your teammate getting into the water and swimming up behind you.

“Boo!” Jessie's hands landed on either side of your waist and if it wasn’t for the water and her hold, you probably would’ve jumped out of your skin. The yelp you let out sent Jessie into a spiral of laughter, her hands tightening on your waist as she leaned into your back, her forehead resting against the back of your neck. 

Flustered by both the sneak attack and your current positioning, you huffed out a breath of annoyance. Somehow you managed to flip yourself around so that you were facing Jessie instead of having her pressed into your back and,

Maybe that was a worse idea. 

How Jessie had previously been leaning meant that when you turned around the two of you were eye to eye, barely inches apart. 

You couldn’t move even if you wanted to. Turned around with Jessie's hands on your waist like this, you were trapped between her and the wall of the pool. If anyone was moving anytime soon, it was going to have to be her. But Jessie's eyes were locked on yours, cheeks colored her trademark red, and mouth just slightly agape. Even without the alcohol running through your veins, it was an intoxicating sight. 

“Cooled down yet?” It was teasing, you knew that. To push on the same button that had led to her getting into the pool with you in the first place. You were smug, a smirk tugging at your lips until you met her eyes again. The normal light earthy color you saw when you looked at her was gone, her pupils were blown and there was a darkness to her gaze that you had only seen a few times before. 

“Not even a little bit.” And if the words weren’t enough on their own, her new gravely tone caused your breath to catch in your throat. You hadn’t been expecting a response, and clearly Jessie wasn’t expecting to give one as her eyes widened and she released her hold on you. Treading backwards and creating a bit of space, the both of you tried to catch your breath. 

Finding yourself unable to stay still, you targeted the one other thing in (by?) the pool that wasn’t the deeply flustered midfielder. Ducking down into the water, you let the silence of the water engulf you as you made your way to the other side of the pool. When you emerged, you could feel her eyes on you again. Instead of turning to look back at her, you reached out and grabbed her previously abandoned bottle of beer. 

“Hey!” Jessie called from across the water, swimming over as you turned towards her. 

“What? Sharing is caring, Jessie.” It wasn’t like you to call her by her full first name, but tonight you liked the way it felt. Quirking an eyebrow up at her, you held eye contact again as you raised the bottle to your lips and downed the remaining beer. As you licked your lips, you had to put a great amount of effort into not laughing as you could almost see Jessie’s brain short circuiting. 

“You suck.” She grumbled as she swam up beside you, smacking you lightly on the arm.

“Sometimes.” You replied in a sing-songy tone, an amused smile taking over your face as Jessie smacked you again with a bit more force this time.

You were both quiet for sometime, enjoying the coolness of the water and eachothers company. The music from the house was blasting through the closed doors and you were suddenly extra thankful for being outside.

“Y/N…” You hummed in response, tilting your head to the side curiously as you looked at your teammate. 

“I just…” She trailed off again as she came to lean against the edge of the pool beside you.  

“What is it, Jessie?” It was a feeble attempt to get her to continue talking but it seemed to have the desired effect as she let out a sigh.

“What are you doing after all this?” Jessie looked at you with a sudden seriousness in a way you hadn’t seen from her since the Olympic finals. 

“All this? You mean like tonight or…” Your question was innocent, truthfully. If anything you could blame your inability to comprehend the rather straightforward question on the beer you’d just downed.

“The victory celebrations and stuff, I mean.” The midfielder had relented from staring at you now and had instead reached out and began toying with the empty beer bottle at the pool's edge.

“Oh, well, I mean I’m heading back to England. I think we owe Magda a drink or two after that final.” Feeling the need to create some distance from the weight of this conversation, you pushed away from the wall again. Suddenly a little too tired to swim, you shifted so you were floating on your back. The water lapped against the sides of your face, your body sinking and rising slowly with each breath.

“Oh.”

And that response made you falter where you floated, it wasn’t like Jessie to aimlessly ask a question. She was too good for that, too calculated, even in the most insignificant instances.

“Why do you ask?” You raised your chin as you asked, somewhat fighting to keep from drinking in any water while you spoke. Jessie, noticing the slight struggle, swam over to where you were floating. Gently, she placed a hand underneath your back to help support you. So much for creating distance.

“I was just curious. I mean, the team said you might stay here.” And it was a good thing Jessie had been there to support you because you certainly weren’t expecting her to mention that.

“In Canada?” You looked at her out of the corner of your eyes and watched her scoff at the question.

“No, the NWSL.” She clarified.

Well fuck. Very few people knew about the offers you’d gotten from teams in the States, and you weren’t exactly sure how Jessie had become one. Or just how much she knew. 

“Oh. Well, there’s some truth to that I guess. Portland wants my rights, badly. Sincy is over the moon about it.” You wouldn’t lie to Jessie. You couldn’t lie to Jessie. If she knew, you would just have to accept that. 

“But you’re going back to England?” 

In the thirty seconds it took you to formulate a response, you thought of about six different ways you could get away with murdering Janine Beckie who definitely doesn’t know how to keep her mouth shut. 

“I am.” You answered honestly, staring directly up at the night sky as you lay on your back. For each star you counted, you took a breath. One star, in. Two stars out. Three stars, in. Four stars, out. 

“I thought you wanted to play in the States again.” Jessie's voice was soft and had she not been so close, you might’ve lost her words in the noise of the night. 

“Well yeah, I mean I do. At some point. I miss being back here and being close to my college friends and family sometimes.” You had spent four years in the States at Stanford for college, and Stanford Soccer isn’t something you leave behind easily. 

“At some point?” Jessie's hand against your back was a little firmer now, actually providing pressure instead of simply floating alongside you in case you needed a lift. The touch was strong, intentional.

“Yes, at some point.” Your response was short, almost stuttered out. It was all you could manage in the position you were in.

“But, why not now?” Jessie's voice was deceptively innocent considering she was slowly letting her hand drift lower down your back.

“Jessie…” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You could feel the pressure in each of her fingertips as they dragged against your skin.

“All of your friends and family are here, right?” Her voice lilted up ever so slightly at the end, revealing the real question in her words. It was an invitation. You knew you could shut her down here, call her stupid for thinking that, break up this little dance. 

“No.” You didn’t back down from a challenge.

“No?” Jessie's hand had stopped moving, if it ventured any further it would no longer be on her back. Her fingers brushed playfully against the waistband on your underwear and made your breath catch in your throat.

“No. Not all of them are here.” It was getting harder to float and you’d lost count of the stars. You clenched your jaw and shut your eyes.

“But-” Exasperated by her coyness, you shifted so you were no longer floating but were instead treading water right in front of her. 

“Jessie Alexandra, are you trying to make me spell this out for you?” You snapped, an almost pleading look on your face as you stared directly into her dark eyes.

“Maybe.” 

It was the second time that night that Jessie's words had caught you both off guard. On top of literally not knowing how to respond to that, the gravely sound of her voice was enough to make you reach for the edge of the pool.

“Y/N…” Jessie moved to meet you at the edge similarly to how she had earlier, only this time she gently reached out to touch your shoulder instead of smacking you. The reintroduction of Jessies touch, it seemed, was enough to set you off.

“What, Jessie?” The words came out a lot harsher than you’d meant and you cursed internally as Jessie snatched her hand back as if she’d been burnt.

“I shouldn’t have pushed. I’m sorry.” Her apology was gentle and familiar.

With all the tension that had been building in the water over the course of the night, it had become easy to forget that this half naked person who had been all over you was also your favorite person in the whole world. Your teammate and partner in crime.

You looked back up to the sky again. One star, in. Two stars, out. Three stars, in. Four stars, out.

You wouldn’t lie to Jessie. 

“You didn’t have to push.”  Your voice was stronger than you’d expected, and it clearly startled Jessie who practically broke her neck and the speed she whipped around to stare at you.

“What?”

With a final breath in, you turned to her. There was confusion written all over her face, her brow furrowed and eyes darting all over to try and get a read on your expression.

Carefully, you reached your free hand out to grab for hers that floated at her side. 

“You didn’t have to push and you don’t need to be sorry, Jessie. You just had to ask the right question.” Interlacing your fingers, you stared into her eyes again. You could actively see every single gear in her brain turning as she ran back through your conversations, piecing together just how to respond.

Then, her eyes lit up.

“Y/N?” Jessie's voice was low and sounded slightly like she’d just been shouting for a whole match and you were obsessed. 

“Yes, Jessie?” You bit your bottom lip hard to hold back your smile, raising an eyebrow to prompt the midfielder to continue.

“Why are you going back to England?” 

And you couldn’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes as she asked the question that she should have just started with. 

“Jess, do you really not know?” You knew she knew, it wasn’t a hard equation to solve. 

“I think I do, but…” She trailed off quietly, now biting her own bottom lip as she looked down at the water in what looked to be embarrassment if the pinkness of her ears was any indicator. 

“But?” Now it was your turn to press. 

“I really want to hear you say it.” Jessie finished, looking up at you through her lashes and you almost choked at the sight. 

“You.” You answered without hesitation because in this moment you literally couldn’t even dream of lying to the girl in front of you.

“Me?” Jessie asked, looking for reassurance to fuel the sparkle in her eyes.

“Yes.” And you confirmed it easily.

“You’re going back to England…” She trailed off, now raising her eyebrow at you. She wanted to hear you actually say it, all of it. 

“I’m going back to England for you, Jessie, because I couldn’t imagine playing for a team that you’re not on.” Staring into her eyes, you told your teammate the secret she’d been searching for, the one you’d realized you’d been hiding since the start of the Olympics.

“Y/N?” Her voice was fucked.

“Jessie?” And you’re sure yours was too.

“Can I kiss you?”

And you didn’t think it was really a question. Not when Jessie had already taken back her hand from yours and was already putting it on the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Your foreheads rested against each other as she pushed your back up against the edge of the pool. Without a second thought, your legs were wrapped around her waist and your arms around her neck. 

And you realized that it actually was a question when Jessie, as close together as you were now, refused to lean in any closer. 

“Yes.” 

You had barely managed to whisper the word before Jessie closed the distance, her lips crashing into yours. The kiss was everything it needed to be, hot and heavy and competitive. Jessie bit at your lower lip while you tugged at her hair that you now thought she should absolutely keep down more often.

[gotham--fc]

Rivals - A Jessie Fleming Imagine

Request: Jessie and R both play at UCLA but R plays for the US national team and the media invents a rivalry between them, both Jessie and R get annoyed at being constantly asked about their 'rivalry', they both talk to each other about it and confess their feelings

A/N: I will probably even less active than I am now (if that's possible) I just started school again and I'm very stressed and booked n busy

“So Jessie,” The reporter began. Jessie looked over to where she heard him speak. “You’re about to start at UCLA after these Olympics, and I’m sure you know, but American player Y/N Y/L/N committed to UCLA as well. Do you think your rivalry with her will effect team dynamics at UCLA?”

Jessie really hated media. She was an introvert at heart and if she had it her way, the media wouldn’t be allowed with 500 feet of the team after a game. They weren’t even scheduled to play the US this tournament unless they both made the finals. Still, all they want to ask is about Jessie’s ‘rivalry’ with Y/N. Jessie doesn’t have a rivalry with anyone, and she hasn’t met Y/N off the field even once. They don’t even really interact on the field when they do play, so Jessie has no idea where the ‘rivalry’ theory came from. Except that they’re both the youngest members of their teams, the same age, both midfielders.

“I don’t think that’s going to effect the team at all,” Jessie says, “I have nothing but respect for her as a player and I think she’s a really strong midfielder and she’s very skilled, so I’m confident that we’re both going to play important roles at UCLA and I’m just excited to get started.”

“You might end up facing the US in the finals, the US obviously are the reigning gold medalists, is that something you and the team are thinking about?”

“Not really,” Jessie said honestly, “That’s not our focus right now because nothing is guaranteed, so our focus right now is on our next game. We put ourselves in a good spot coming out of the group stage, uh, in first place, so we’re just focused on the quarterfinal games.”

***

“Y/N, your focus is obviously on winning gold, but can I ask how you’re feeling about joining UCLA this fall?”

“Yeah,” Y/N says, “I’m thrilled to be joining UCLA and I’m excited to further my development as a player and hopefully help the team win a championship.”

Y/N doesn’t really understand why they always ask her to do media. She doesn’t believe anyone really wants to hear from her over some of the vets. But still, here she is, trying not to pull her hair out at these stupid questions.

“Jessie Fleming is also joining UCLA this year, have you spoken to her at all? We know you two have a sort of on field rivalry, have you spoken to her about the both of you joining UCLA?”

“No, we’ve never really crossed paths outside the field, so I haven’t spoken to her. She’s a great player, though, and I think she’ll be an important part of the team at UCLA.”

***

A lot of the players at UCLA are roommates. Even the freshman in their dorms tend to get paired up with someone from the team.  Jessie ends up rooming with Teagan Micah, a keeper from Australia. Jessie likes her, she’s funny, and she’s pretty outgoing, so she drags Jessie along to frosh week activities and Jessie knows if she was left alone she would’ve spent the entirety of her first weeks at school either in class, at practice, or at home.

They have their first practice pretty soon after they move in, since the season starts up right away. The first practice is mostly getting to know each other and the coaches and the style of play they want. It’s different than how Canada plays, so it takes Jessie a second to adjust.

After practice, one of the senior girls calls the team over. She invites everyone to a team bonding night at her place that night.

Jessie gets ready in her dorm with Teagan. Jessie wants to leave so they’ll arrive a bit early, but Teagan just laughs at her, and tells her if a party starts at 8pm, people won’t arrive until 9pm. Jessie wants to say it’s not a party, it’s just for the team to get to know each other, but she doesn’t.

Turns out, it’s a party.

Not only is the soccer team there, but so is the basketball team, the football team, teams that Jessie can’t recognize. She stays near Teagan most of the night, not feeling the most comfortable with the loud music, the drinking, the number of people crammed in a tiny living room. Jessie loses track of Teagan after someone bumps into her, then someone steps in between her and Teagan. Instead of continuing to struggle through people to find Teagan, Jessie goes into the kitchen which is mercifully less full.

Jessie grabs a clean cup and fills it with water from the sink. She hears a commotion and turns, seeing Y/N with a small group enter the kitchen. They make eye contact, and Jessie waves. Y/N nods in acknowledgement. The group begins yelling about shots, and Jessie takes that as her cue to leave. She tries to find Teagan, but it’s impossible, and instead she finds Hallie Mace.

“Hallie!” Jessie yells over the music, “Can you tell Teagan I left? In case she wonders where I went?”

“Yeah, sure Jessie,” Hallie says, “Are you having fun?”

Jessie smiles and nods, and she knows it looks forced, but it satisfies Hallie, who Jessie figures is a little tipsy.

Jessie makes her way outside and walks home, the cool air a relief after how hot it was inside.

Jessie is asleep by the time Teagan comes home, and either Teagan was really quiet, or Jessie was really asleep, because Jessie didn’t hear her come in. The only sign that Teagan did come home is Teagan sleeping in her bed in the clothes she wore last night, hair sticking up in all directions. Jessie sets some Gatorade and Advil on the nightstand for her before she leaves for class.

***

It’s not that Y/N is intentionally avoiding Jessie.

There is truly no bad blood or actual rivalry or whatever people want to believe. It’s just that there’s not much overlap between them except on the field. They’re not in the same program, so they don’t share classes together, they don’t really share the same friends, outside the team. Y/N is friends with the people in her class, other student athletes, and Jessie is friends with people from her classes, and the soccer team. Y/N doesn’t even really notice it, until the online comments start.

It starts with a clip from one of their games. Jessie and Y/N were both on the bench, after being subbed out, and Jessie sat after grabbing water and her pinny, and Y/N stayed standing.

omg they haaate each other

they won’t even sit together its so over

LMAO Y/N really can’t stand Canadians there’s miles of space on that bench to sit and she STANDS???

Y/N frowns when she sees it. It wasn’t intentional, she wasn’t not sitting because she didn’t want to sit with Jessie. She prefers standing for a bit after she’s subbed out. It’s a mini cool down, and she likes bringing her heartrate down before she sits and fully relaxes.

Then it’s the clip from the Olympics, when Y/N said she doesn’t talk to Jessie. All Y/N meant by that is that they hadn’t crossed paths, through no fault of theirs, it’s just how things happened. Of course, everyone decided she meant that she refuses to talk to Jessie.

There’s rumours on campus about a bad fight the two had, about how they played against each other with their national teams and after they got into it off the field. Another lie, because they’ve truly never encountered each other after a game. Still, some of Y/N’s new friends ask her about it, ask her what Jessie did, what really went down. Y/N tells them the same thing each time, nothing happened, there’s no hatred or rivalry, they’re simply two people whose lives don’t really overlap and that’s all there is.

***

USA and Canada don’t even play each other at the next FIFA window. The US plays in the SheBelieves Cup and Canada plays in the Algarve Cup. All Jessie wants to do is focus on the games. She can’t, however, because the first media appearance she does, the first question is about Y/N.

“She’s a great player,” Jessie says, “She brings a lot to the team and I’m happy that for most of the time she’s on my team and not playing against me.”

It doesn’t help that her teammates bother her about it too.

“How is it really?” Janine asks, “Does the team have to build a barrier between you guys?”

“Janine,” Jessie sighs, “We don’t hate each other. We’re literally normal teammates.”

“Oh, come on, you won’t even tell me the juicy details?” Janine whines, “I’m your best friend!”

“Beckie, leave her alone,” Sophie Schmidt says. Jessie almost thanks Sophie, then Sophie keeps talking. “Jessie doesn’t want to spend her rare time away from her enemy thinking about her.”

“She’s not my enemy!” Jessie snaps, “You guys suck.”

***

“Sooooo…” Kelley slides in next to Y/N at the lunch table. “How are things at school?”

“Good?” Y/N says, “Why?”

“I’m just wondering!” Kelley says, “I want to make sure you’re handling things, you know, balancing school with soccer, all those things.”

“Yeah, it’s good. I’m good.”

“Aaand the team is good?”

“Why are you being so weird?” Y/N says.

“I’m not! Alex, am I being weird?” Kelley yells over at Alex across the room.

“You usually are,” Alex comes over and joins them at the table, “What are you being weird about now Kel?”

“I’m just asking her how school is!” Kelley insists. Alex rolls her eyes.

“Kelley wants to ask how Jessie Fleming is, but she’s trying to be subtle about it.”

“Alex!”

“Jessie is fine,” Y/N interrupts before the two can start bickering.

“Do you guys get along?” Kelley asks.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Y/N sighs, “Are you seriously talking about that stupid rivalry thing? That’s just a bunch of BS.”

“Do you guys hang out? Are you friends?”

“Oh my god,” Y/N groans, “Can’t I eat without everyone bringing up Jessie? They’re not even in the same tournament as us, can I not get a fucking break?”

Kelley and Alex share a look.

***

It only gets worse from there. As Canada and the US start playing each other more, and the longer Jessie and Y/N play together at UCLA, and seemingly don’t get along, the more they get asked about it, the more comments are made online, the more frustrated Y/N gets.

Y/N sludges through the mud on her way to practice. It’s been unexpectedly rainy the past few days. Y/N thought LA was supposed to be hot and sunny all year round, and she thought she would spend her days basking in the sun, wearing suntan lotion and getting tan, not stepping in mud and puddles. When she gets to the field, she’s surprised the only other person there is Jessie.

“Am I really late or really early?” Y/N asks.

“I was asking myself the same thing,” Jessie says, “I’m always early but usually the coaches are already here.”

Y/N sets her bag down on the least muddy spot, and shakes her head.

“I thought LA was supposed to be sunny,” Y/N says. Jessie laughs.

“The rain is actually a relief for me,” Jessie says, “There’s not this much sun in Canada, I’m not used to it.”

Y/N laughs. Of course the Canadian likes the rain.

“I’m not surprised no one else showed up,” Y/N says, “The field is a bit waterlogged.” Y/N points down at her feet, her cleats sunk an inch into the mud.

“You can leave if you want,” Jessie says, “I’m gonna stay and run around for a bit, but you don’t have to stay if you’d rather get out of the mud.”

Y/N considers it. She would really like to go back to her dorm and take a hot shower. But she thinks of Jessie, here all alone, and she can’t leave.

“No, I’ll stay, might as well get some work in for the game this weekend.”

Y/N thinks Jessie means she’s going to stay and run drills, so Y/N waits for her to be ready to warm up. She’s too focused on the way her cleats are getting caked in mud to notice the mischievous smile on Jessie’s face. Y/N gasps and jumps back as a wad of mud hits her chest. She looks at Jessie who’s laughing.

“Oh, it’s on.”

Y/N pounces before Jessie can run, tackling her into the mud. They roll around until they’re both covered in mud and laughing so hard their sides hurt. They run around, trying to push each other into puddles. After a bit, Y/N suggests they play 1 on 1 against each other to ‘see who’s really the better midfielder’. They go back and forth a bit, and the score remains even, both equally matched. It goes until Jessie’s up by one, having stripped the ball from Y/N on defense. Jessie dribbles up to Y/N and Y/N knows immediately that she made a mistake, committing too far one way and Jessie easily goes the other. She does it without thinking, one second watching Jessie cut the other way and the next she has her arms around Jessie’s waist, pulling her back until the two of them are tripping backwards into the mud.

Jessie sputters, mouth gaping open.

“That’s a foul! That’s a red!”

“There’s no refs!” Y/N says, “No refs, no rules! We’re tied again, you didn’t get past me.”

“We are not tied! That doesn’t count!” Jessie says, “I had you beat! I fooled you so bad you had to foul me to stop me!”

“What foul? I didn’t hear a foul call,” Y/N knows she’s being annoying, but she refuses to concede the point. “The rules were you had to get past me, and you didn’t get past me. You lost the ball, therefore, my point.”

“You little…”

Before Y/N can react, Jessie is up and running to the ball. She starts dribbling it away from Y/N.

“There! I recovered the ball and got past you! My point!”

“Get back here!” Y/N chases after her.

Y/N runs after Jessie, yelling the whole time, with Jessie yelling back at her. Y/N almost has her, has her fingers in Jessie’s jersey, ready to give it a tug back, and she startles to a stop when a voice rings out.

“You know practice was canceled today, right?” Teagan stands on the edge of the field.

“We sort of figured that,” Y/N says, out of breath.

“Are the two of you going to clean up before team dinner, or is being covered in the mud the new style?”

“I forgot about dinner,” Jessie says, “We should go shower. It’s going to take a while to get all this mud off.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Y/N yells after them as they walk away.

***

They don’t necessarily start hanging out after that. They still exist in different circles, but it’s more like they partner up in practice, or sit together at team meals, or Y/N plops into the seat behind Jessie on the bus.

Comments start to swirl again after one of their games against USC. USC is one of their biggest rivals and the stands are always packed, each team fighting for a win. UCLA pulled out the win, thanks to a goal from Jessie. Jessie gets pulled into an on field interview after the game and Y/N sneaks up behind her and dumps her almost full Gatorade on Jessie’s head.

“I’ll get you back for that!” Jessie yells, before clearly remembering she’s in the middle of an interview. “Sorry,” Jessie says, “What was the question?”

The clip circulates, people asking if they’ve squashed their beef, if it’s all for show, or if they’re really friends. Y/N rolls her eyes at all the comments.

They end up playing against each other with their national teams in a friendly. While in the tunnel waiting to head out on the field, Y/N finds where Jessie’s standing in line.

“Psst, Fleming,” Y/N gets her attention, “Can I get your jersey after the game?”

“Sure,” Jessie says, “But I don’t want yours. I’d rather die than wear American colours.”

Y/N sticks her tongue out at Jessie, but smiles when Jessie has to turn away to keep from laughing. She catches Kelley staring at her, raising her eyebrows. What? Y/N mouths at her. Kelley raises her arms in surrender and focuses back at the front.

After the game Y/N and Jessie meet in the middle of the field. Y/N already has her jersey off. She holds it out to Jessie.

“The whole point of a jersey swap is the swapping of jerseys, now give.”

Jessie rolls her eyes and pulls off her jersey, handing it to Y/N. They put on the others jersey and Jessie makes a face.

“This feels illegal.”

“Let’s take a photo,” Y/N drags Jessie over to the nearest photographer. She’s more than happy to get one of the two of them in each other’s jerseys and promises to send it to both of them.

***

After the game, a lot of the teams plan to meet up since a lot of them are friends and teammates on their club teams. Jessie isn’t 21 yet, and she really doesn’t know anyone on the US team very well, so she stays behind. She should probably do some homework anyway.

Jessie’s finished showering and doing her post game routine and about to pull out her textbooks, when there’s a knock at the door.

“Hey,” Y/N says when Jessie opens the door, “Everyone’s out drinking, except us it seems. Wanna hang?”

Y/N doesn’t wait for an answer before she pushes into the room and flops on the closest bed.

“That’s Janine’s bed,” Jessie says as she closes the door. Y/N groans and moves to the other bed.

“It’s so lame being under 21,” Y/N says, “Everyone ditches us to go to bars and stuff.”

“I don’t like bars anyway,” Jessie says, “I’d rather stay in.”

“I don’t mind staying in, I guess, I like hanging out with you, I’ll skip the bar if you’re here.”

Jessie doesn’t answer, looking away before Y/N can see how her cheeks grow red.

“Did you see this?” Y/N turns her phone to Jessie, “People are going crazy over the picture of us from the game. They’re trying to prove it’s a PR stunt since we tooootally hate each other.”

“All that rivalry stuff is pretty stupid. There was never anything to it.”

“You know everyone wants to create drama when there isn’t any.”

“I never…” Jessie turns to look at the wall, talking quietly, “I never had any problem with you, even before we became friends. I hated the rivalry crap. I always thought… I thought you were cool and I wanted to talk to you, but I thought you might’ve really hated me.”

“I didn’t hate you,” Y/N says, “Jess.” Jessie hears Y/N shifting on the bed and Y/N gently grabs Jessie’s shoulder and turns Jessie to face her. “I didn’t hate you, I thought you were cool too. You’re such a good player and everyone liked you so much. I didn’t know what to say to you.”

“I don’t think I’m that cool,” Jessie mutters.

“You’re way cool!” Y/N says, “You’re one of the best midfielders in the world and you’re still in college! And your photography stuff is really good, and everyone likes you, and, I think you’re really awesome Jess.”

Jessie feels like she might cry, and she doesn’t want to. She doesn’t want Y/N to see her cry, she doesn’t want to try to explain why a few nice words from Y/N are making her cry. She panics, because she can feel the tears coming and she doesn’t know how to stop it. Y/N is looking at her intently, and Jessie stops thinking. Before she knows it, her lips are on Y/N’s. She pulls back almost as quickly as she leaned in.

“I’m so sorry,” Jessie says. She feels like she might cry even more now.

“Oh,” Y/N breathes, “Oh. I didn’t realize…”

“I’m so sorry. I get it if you don’t want hang out with me anymore. I’m so sorry.”

Jessie keeps apologizing, not able to do anything else. She’s expecting Y/N to slap her, or to just walk out of the room and never talk to her again. She wonders how easy it is to transfer schools, she doesn’t want to leave UCLA, but she doesn’t know if she can face Y/N again. Lost in her thoughts, she freezes when Y/N kisses her again.

“Sorry,” Y/N says, “But I didn’t know how else to get to you to stop apologizing. I’m not mad, I like you too. I didn’t think you liked me back, so I didn’t say anything. I like you, Jess.”

“Really?” Jessie asks, “You… you like me?” Y/N nods. “I-I like you too,” Jessie says shyly.

Jessie covers her face and falls back on the bed. Y/N laughs and follows her. When Jessie uncovers her face, Y/N is facing her, looking at her with a soft smile on her face. Jessie takes a deep breath and works up her nerve. She reaches a hand out and slides her hand over Y/N’s. Y/N grins and laces their fingers together. Hours later, they fall asleep like that, hands clasped between them, and Jessie wakes up to the sound of a camera shutter.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Janine whispers, “I felt like we needed photo evidence of this moment.”

“Please don’t post that anywhere,” Jessie says, and she rolls over and falls back asleep.

[gotham--fc]

UCLA Love - A Jessie Fleming Imagine

Request: Jessie and R both go to UCLA and have a great connection on the field. They both like each other but are too shy to say anything until R has a bad game and while Jessie comforts her it slips out that Jessie likes her

This request was from probably like three years ago at least sorry about that besties..... let me know what you think!

It’s hard not to be intimidated by Jessie Fleming, or, at least that’s what Y/N tells herself.

In truth, Jessie’s probably the least intimidating person. She’s quiet, bookish, nice to a fault, really all the qualities of a non-intimidating person. But that doesn’t stop the way Y/N’s palms start to sweat whenever she’s near Jessie. Ever since Y/N started at UCLA, she finds herself inexplicably nervous around the Canadian midfielder.

She doesn’t know why, at first, why her heart pounds when Jessie’s nearby, why her palms get clammy, and why she’s suddenly aware of every part of her body. At first, she chalks it up to the fact that Jessie is, like, a legend on the field already even as an 18-year-old. She made her senior debut at fifteen! Y/N hasn’t even been invited to one camp yet. So of course, it’s natural to be nervous around someone who literally has already played at a World Cup and an Olympics. She has a bronze medal! Of course that’s intimidating.

When they first met, at the first team meeting, Y/N didn’t know what to expect. She thought Jessie could be a little stuck up. Maybe cocky. She was arguably the best player in the room and Y/N wouldn’t have blamed her if she acted like it. But instead, she sat near the back of the room and didn’t speak up until Coach called on her. At their first practice, she tried harder than anyone else on the field and stayed late. Y/N was in awe. How was this highly accomplished player so… shy? Quiet? How could she act like everyone on the team was of equal standing? Y/N admired her from the start, her personality, how she played, but the way Jessie makes her feel is more than simple admiration.

***

Jessie is always nervous doing new things.

One would think that after making her national team debut at 15, then less than two years later moving across the country from her family to train with the team full time, playing in the World Cup at 17 and the Olympics the following year, that she wouldn’t be nervous about anything soccer related anymore. That couldn’t be further from the truth. She is still nervous that her team won’t like her, that she’s going to suck so hard and get cut from the team, or be benched forever. She chooses UCLA because she loves the school, and the campus, and the coaches, and it’s where she wants to be. She has no idea what college soccer looks like and while she knows, logically, that if she can handle herself against full adult pro players, she can handle herself against college players, or how many of her national team teammates tell her that she’ll be fine, better than fine, she’s still a bundle of nerves getting off the plane in LA.

In the end, she has nothing to worry about. She fits into the team immediately, even if they tease her for being a bookworm, or a huge introvert. They love to bother her, beg her to go to parties or to get drunk or hookup with the guys on the baseball team (ew). She plays well, she builds her chemistry with the team over the season and Jessie herself will tell anyone who asks that she’s only as good as her team makes her, but if you ask anyone else, they would tell you that Jessie is a phenom on the pitch and the team is just there to watch her greatness.

***

It's a Friday night, and the team is out at another party. Jessie opted out, because she has a test on Monday and they have a game this weekend, so she knows she won’t get much studying done after tonight. They tried to convince her to come, but eventually gave up when they realized that convincing her to come might take all night.

Usually Jessie is content with a night alone to study, but a little while after the team left, there’s a knock at the door. Jessie rolls her eyes as she gets up from her desk, preparing to tell whoever was there that no, she didn’t change her mind, and she still wasn’t coming out. Instead, she opens the door to Y/N, standing shyly in the hallway.

“Hey,” Y/N says, “I heard you were staying in to study tonight, mind if I join?” Y/N raises her own books.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Jessie says, “Come in.”

Jessie wills her cheeks to not turn red as she hastily clears off space on her bed. She tries to inconspicuously put her dirty laundry into her hamper. She can’t explain it, but Y/N makes her nervous, and she doesn’t quite know how to handle it.

“Sorry, it’s a little messy, I haven’t had a lot of time to clean,” Jessie says.

“You’re good,” Y/N says, “My room is even worse.”

“I-I only have one desk, sorry,” Jessie says, “I can sit on my bed if you want the desk.”

“If I didn’t already know you were Canadian, how often you say sorry would give it away,” Y/N smiles, “I’m fine with the bed, I just have to read articles and stuff, nothing too crazy.”

Jessie sits back at the desk while Y/N settles onto the bed – Jessie’s bed. Jessie swallows and tries to focus on her textbook in front of her. After a few moments of trying and failing to read the problem she was trying to solve, Jessie glances over at Y/N, textbook in hand, highlighter twirling in her fingers. Y/N looks up as if she could feel Jessie’s staring.

“Sorry,” Jessie says as she feels herself grow red, “I, uh, I should’ve asked if you wanted a drink or anything. I have water or Gatorade or pop if you want.”

“Water’s good, thanks,” Y/N says.

Jessie hands Y/N a water bottle from her mini-fridge and their fingers touch. Jessie pulls her hand back quickly.

“Uh, let me know if you need anything else.”

Jessie goes back to the desk and tries to work again. She mostly succeeds, getting through a decent chunk of the physics problems on the test prep. She’s struggling through one of the harder problems when Y/N lets out a loud sigh.

“I think if I read another word my brain will explode,” Y/N says.

“We can’t have that,” Jessie says, “Who else is going to assist all my goals?” Y/N barks out a laugh.

“I see, that’s all I’m good for to you,” Y/N says.

“You want to watch a movie or something?” Jessie asks, closing her textbook. “Here,” Jessie opens Netflix on her laptop and hands it to Y/N, “Pick something.”

Jessie realizes, too late, that her bed is not exactly big enough for two people. There’s no way for her to sit unless she was pressed up against Y/N, or half hanging off the bed. Y/N doesn’t seem to mind though, patting the spot beside her. Jessie sits and tries not to think about anything except the movie playing. A little bit into the movie, Y/N shifts, and Jessie thinks for a moment that Y/N actually doesn’t like being this close to Jessie, and is trying to get away from her, until Y/N’s head lands on her chest.

“Is this okay?” Y/N asks, “I’m so tired.”

“Y-Yeah,” Jessie says. It’s a little uncomfortable, so Jessie moves her own arm until it’s around Y/N’s back. Jessie keeps an eye on Y/N, looking for any sign of discomfort, but she finds none. She tries to focus back on the movie, but she’s so lost now on what’s going on.

Jessie stares resolutely at the screen, even though her mind is elsewhere. All she can think about is Y/N. Y/N’s head on her chest, Y/N’s hand resting on her thigh, Y/N’s scent hitting her nose. Jessie feels like she’s never been so red. Jessie doesn’t know how much time has passed when Y/N lifts her head slightly and looks up at Jessie.

“Are you okay?” Y/N whispers, “Your heart is beating like, so fast.”

“Wh-Ye-Um,” Jessie mumbles something that she doesn’t even understand. Y/N won’t stop looking at her.

“Do you want me to leave?” Y/N asks. Jessie shakes her head. Y/N is still looking at her and Jessie feels like she can’t breathe, that any slight moment of her muscles will break whatever spell they’re under. For half a second, Jessie thinks Y/N is going to kiss her. Then, Y/N nods, and lays her head back down. Jessie swallows and leans her head back against the headboard, closing her eyes.

***

They don’t talk about it. Jessie wants to say nothing changes, and things don’t change on the field at least. Y/N still finds her and still plays perfect passes in the box for her, and Jessie still knows exactly where to go when Y/N has the ball. That doesn’t change. Off the field, however…

They don’t talk about it, so Jessie isn’t really sure if anything really changes, or if she’s just hyperaware of every interaction they have. It feels to Jessie like Y/N seeks her out more, that Y/N’s eyes find hers in a crowd on purpose, that Y/N touches her arm or her shoulder or her hand on purpose.

Almost every night, Jessie dreams of that moment in her room, when Y/N stared at her and Jessie thought they would kiss. In her dreams, Y/N does kiss her, and Jessie wakes herself up almost immediately every time.

***

It’s supposed to be an easy game. The team they’re playing is so far below them in the standings, and it should be an easy win. They’ve bowled over teams better than this one, and they’re going into the game with all the confidence in the world.

Y/N doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. She feels like that scene in She’s The Man where Viola plays soccer in her debutante dress and she falls flat on her face. Every time she gets the ball, it feels like it gets taken from her before she can even think of what to do with it. When she tries to defend, it feels like the opposing players whip past her before she can blink. She feels in over her head and it’s not something she’s felt in years and she hates it. It’s no surprised her coach subs her off at halftime.

She spends the rest of the game on the bench, watching her team play. No one else seems to experience what she did. Everyone else plays the way they should, and they do roll over this team like they expected. But Y/N had no part in it.

On the bus back to campus, the team is celebrating, and Y/N seats herself in the very back away from everyone and pulls her hood up. She’s not in the mood to celebrate. She’s in the mood to sulk.

When they get back to campus, everyone tries to plan where they’re going to meet up to continue the celebration, but Y/N walks away before they decide. She’s not celebrating the worst game she’s ever played. She has her headphones in, volume turned up, so she doesn’t hear Jessie calling after her, she only stops when Jessie grabs her arm.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Jessie asks.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Y/N says.

Normally, Y/N loves spending time with Jessie, and on a normal day, she wouldn’t think twice about walking with Jessie to her dorm, or telling Jessie what’s on her mind. Today is not a normal day, and Y/N can’t help but think that after her performance today that Jessie probably wants nothing to do with her. Y/N’s clearly not at the level of the rest of the team, and she doesn’t know why Jessie would want to bother with a player who will probably only see the bench for the rest of the season.

“You know you can tell me anything Y/N,” Jessie says, “I want to help you.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“At least let me walk you home,” Jessie says, “Please?”

Y/N agrees, because she hates seeing Jessie upset. They walk in silence most of the way. About halfway to her dorm, Y/N realizes all she wants to do right now is cry. She also realizes that it’s more than a want, that she is crying whether she likes it or not. Jessie realizes after the third sniffle.

“Oh, Y/N, please tell me what’s wrong,” Jessie begs.

“Like you don’t know,” Y/N wipes her nose on her sleeve, “You all saw me during the game. I played like shit. I sucked out there.”

“You didn’t play like shit,” Jessie says. Y/N scoffs. “You didn’t! You were triple teamed every time we could get you the ball. And they were definitely fouling you a lot and that ref was blind.”

“You don’t have to pretend to be nice to me,” Y/N says, “Team chemistry won’t collapse. You don’t have to pretend to like me.”

“I’m not pretending!” Jessie says, “I’m…” Jessie grabs Y/N so she stops walking. She pulls Y/N hood back so she can look Y/N in the eyes. “I do like you, I like you a lot. I like you more than… more than I’ve ever liked anyone before. I’m not… None of it is for the team and I’m not going to stop because you had an off game.” Y/N isn’t sure what to say, so she doesn’t say anything. Jessie sighs in frustration. “Can I kiss you?”

“What?” Y/N says.

“I really like you,” Jessie says, “Can I kiss you?”

Y/N sniffles one more time, wipes her face on her sleeves.

“I’m pretty gross, like I’ve crying and I’m all snotty–”

“I don’t care,” Jessie says, “I don’t care about that. I care about you.”

Y/N decides to stop thinking. She leans forward and presses her lips to Jessie’s. It’s a chaste kiss, lasting for only a few seconds, but it’s perfect for Y/N.

“Can I take you on a date?” Jessie asks. Y/N nods. Jessie smiles wider than Y/N’s ever seen.

They keep walking to Y/N’s dorm, their hands brushing every few steps. They steal glances at each other, blushing and giggling when they catch each other’s eyes. When Jessie drops Y/N off at her dorm, the bad game is completely forgotten. Jessie shifts on her feet, not making eye contact with Y/N. She whispers a goodbye, then kisses Y/N’s cheek quickly, before rushing off. Y/N closes the door and leans against it, hiding her blushing face in her hoodie.

[flemingsfreckles]

Be a Good Teammate pt. 2

Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader (also Seattle!Reader)

Read Part 1

Warnings: none, this is a pretty relaxed chapter

WC: 2.8k

A/N: thank you so much for the support on what is now Part 1. Due to how many people requested a continuation of this fic, I figured I’d go for it! This is more of a filler/plot mover part of the story. There will be at least one more part that will be a lot more interesting but if there’s enough interest and I have the ideas, maybe it’ll be many more parts.

It had been a couple weeks since you had talked with Jessie on the field in San Diego. You haven't heard anything from her, not that you were expecting to after she had told you she had a lot on her plate. Not hearing from her had bothered you a bit in the beginning, thoughts of her constantly popping up in your mind. She was a minor distraction. As time went on and you didn’t hear from her you went back to the way you had been before you had seen her. You were able to brush off the thoughts of her easily, getting back into your routine as if you hadn’t even seen her.

Something deep down hoped you’d wake up to a text from her. That hope diminished as the days passed. It wasn't until the week before your team was supposed to take the trip to Portland to play that you heard from her.

Unknown: Hey, this is well overdue but I just wanted to apologize, I was rude to you after the gold cup game. Not an excuse but I was in a pretty rough state. Thanks for what you said too.

Unknown: by the way this is Jessie, I had to get a new number to use in the US. Feel free to delete my UK number. Keep the Canada one, I still use that.

Unknown: I got your number from Coffey.

Unknown: Hope that’s okay. You can just delete this number if you’d rather.

Reading her texts made you smile and let out a small laugh, she texted exactly how she would talk. You can practically hear her voice while reading through the texts, how she probably sat there overthinking each text only to then feel guilty for not just double or triple but quadruple texting you. You clicked on her number, changing her name in your phone to Jessie (USA).

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard as you thought about responding. Deciding against replying at the moment, you lock your phone again and climb out of bed. You throw on your clothes for training then head to your kitchen to make a quick breakfast and coffee.

Training was rough. It was less that the physical workout was hard, it had actually been a lighter day being only 2 days away from game day. It was rough because you couldn't focus.

Your mind kept drifting to the few texts you had received from Jessie. Had she been thinking about you all these weeks? Why did she wait so long? Maybe she was only thinking about you since you would be seeing her this weekend. But maybe she was thinking of you for other reasons. Maybe she was ready to start being friends? Maybe you could end up as more? All the thoughts related to her were swarming around your head, leading you to be in a fog at practice.

It was embarrassing to say the least, missing touches, overpowering or underpowering your passes, even tripping over your own feet a couple times. After you had fallen to your knees while doing individual dribbling drills, for the third time that day at practice Quinn stepped over to you extending their hand.

“Are you good?” Concern in their eyes as they pulled you up.

“Yeah, just in my own head today.” trying to give a convincing smile shaking your head at your own behavior. You had managed to push Jessie so far back in your mind for years, why was she messing with you now.

“Alright, if you need to talk let me know, or go see the psychologist. The team has them for a reason. We need you to stay on your feet Saturday.” They pat you on the back and go back to finish their dribbling drill.

“Thanks.” You gave Quinn a smile, knowing damn well you wouldn't bring yourself to talk with them. They were one of the best listeners on the team and had heard out your other issues, anxieties and just general venting. There was no way you were going to talk to Quinn about their own national team teammate. You didn’t need it coming back to Jessie that she was on your mind.

You were so thankful when you were called to huddle up and end practice. Heading back to the locker room you peeled your sweaty jersey off, throwing a sweatshirt on instead, grabbing your phone and heading to the trainer’s room. You greeted the staff, walking over to the ice bath and hopping in. The icy water causes goosebumps to appear across your skin. It felt good, you knew it would, you often would use a cold shower to clear your mind, but this counted as your recovery as well so it was a bonus. You stripped off your sweatshirt leaving you standing shivering in your sports bra. You took a deep breath and let your knees give, sinking your whole body under the water.

Under the water was peaceful, quiet, the freezing water causing your brain to go blank, no thoughts of the bad training, no thoughts of Jessie, no thoughts of what to make for dinner tonight, nothing. So you waited, sitting on the bottom of the tub prolonging your peace. Running out of air, you resurfaced to find a few teammates and members of the training staff to be looking at you. Feeling suddenly self conscious you grabbed your sweatshirt throwing it back on. “What?” you harshly asked in the general direction of your teammates. None of them responding, shaking their heads or just looking away.

Before you could make it out of the locker room you heard your name called and saw your coach standing behind you.

“Can you come to my office before you head out?” She asked.

“Yeah no problem, just give me a second to change my shorts, I’ll be right up.” You tried to appear calm on the outside. On the inside you were stressing. Why did she need to talk to you, maybe you were being traded and you'd be able to dodge Jessie longer. Maybe she was taking you off the travel roster, maybe she was going to yell at you for your performance today. You quickly changed into some dry pants and walked over and into the coaching office.

“Go ahead and shut the door.” She pointed behind you when you walked in. Her words make your stomach sink. You sat down, not saying anything, just looking at her across the desk. She finishes up something on the computer, hitting the power button and turning back to face you. She taps her hands on the desk and starts talking. “Look, I’m going to tread lightly here, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Your best attempt at a smile comes across your face.

“You realize why I have to ask, right?” you just nod at her question. “I don't mean to be crass but that was the worst practice you've had since you started here. I get it, everyone has an off day, but that to me looked like a lot more than just an off day.”

“I’m good, I just had a bit on my mind.” She wasn't telling you anything you didn't know but hearing her criticism of your performance hurt, you didn't want to disappoint her.

“Do I need to take you off of our roster for this weekend's game?”

“No!” You're quick to protest her offer. “I promise, I’ll have it sorted by then.” Not sure if you're trying to convince yourself or your coach at this point you keep talking. “You can count on me.”

“I want to believe that, I do. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt on this one, I’ll leave you on the roster, we really need you for this game, but I’d rather not put you out there if your performance is going to look like it did today.”

“Yes Coach, I understand. I’ll be good.”

She turns back to a stack of papers, grabbing off a small slip from the top. She hands it to you, you look at it recognizing the name and contact information of the team’s sports psychologist and the team’s standard psychologist. “Take this, I’m not saying you need to talk to anyone, but it's good information to always have.”

You look up from the paper, thinking it's silly how now two people had recommended that you needed professional help, all over the fact that you had a silly little crush on an old teammate.

“Thanks Coach, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You stood up pushing in the chair behind you, leaving her office. You walked down the hallway back toward the locker room to grab your bag. Before you head out you quickly pack your travel back, throwing in your boots, shin pads, extra socks, tape before dropping the bag at the front of the room where your teammates had placed theirs. You moved back

Part of you cursed Jessie for reaching out, you had been able to push your thoughts of her back in your mind after you had talked but now that she had reached out she was back in the forefront. Opening your phone as you walked out of the training facility, you opened your messages and clicked on Jessie’s name. You opened her contact, frustrated from your performance at practice and causing your coach to consider benching you, you wanted to blame it on her. You hover your finger over the delete button. You then moved your thumb to where it read Block This Number. Before you could think twice you pressed it, the messages from her disappearing, no trace of her new number on your phone. While you were at it you proceeded to delete her number from the UK. You left her Canadian number, she never used that one to talk to you, no harm in it staying. You were hoping blocking her new number would also block the thoughts of her.

You learned very quickly though the night that if anything, blocking her number made Jessie more prominent in your mind. She was in your mind while you drove home. You thought about her while you stood under the cold water of your shower, she was in your mind while you cooked. Trying to distract yourself you grabbed a book and the book worked. It kept Jessie out of your mind until you realized how much you liked the book, one of the best ones you had read in a while. You decided to open GoodReads, immediately closing it when the first thing you saw upon opening the app was Jessie’s name, she had recently rated a book. You had forgotten that you were even friends on the app, you hadn't read or rated a book in a long time. Deciding you’ve had enough, you pull yourself off the couch and into the bedroom to try and get some sleep.

Setting your alarm for the next morning, you climbed into bed, deciding to count sheep to prevent your mind from wandering. It took many minutes of tossing and turning before you were able to fall asleep. Despite the long day you had mentally and physically, sleep did not come easy. Unfortunately, once you were asleep, you didn’t stay asleep long, feeling restless when you woke up for the fourth time that night, the sky was still dark outside. You roll over checking the time 3:18am. Still half asleep you reach for your phone, sliding it open. Squinting at the bright light you find your settings, opening your list of blocked numbers, finding Jessie’s you click unblock. You open your messages, type in her name and then a message.

You: No problem, see you Saturday.

You're not sure what you're saying no problem to, if it's because she apologized, if it's because she thanked you for talking to her or if it's to the fact that she had asked Sam for your number. Sleep is still fogging your brain. You hit send, shut off your phone and roll over hoping you can get some more sleep before your alarm wakes you.

You wake up to the sound of your alarm. You gave yourself an extra hour in the morning to pack before you had to meet at the stadium to travel. You threw on your travel sweats and shirt before throwing an assortment of sweatpants, t-shirts, and shorts into a bag, not caring what you packed for the 3 day trip. Moving into the bathroom you packed your toiletries, before heading back to your bedroom to grab your phone and the charger.

Jessie (USA): See you Saturday.

You do a double take at the message, last remembering that you had blocked her number. You open it, seeing that you, in fact, had not blocked her but instead you had texted her at 3 in the morning. “Oh you idiot,” you insulted yourself. You threw your phone in your pocket while packing your charger in your bag.

It wasn't long until you were sitting on the bus, stretching your body across two seats, trying to get comfortable. The buses had to be one of the most uncomfortable parts of playing, unfortunately Portland was considered too close to justify a plane ride. You were reading over the itinerary that had been handed out. You were scheduled for a light practice this evening followed by designated stretching and recovery time, then it was dinner and lights out. Looking to Saturday you saw the early arrival time, the game starting at Noon, pitch walk just before that, and time to warm up. After the game you had recovery for an hour followed by the words “Free Time” It wasn't uncommon for you to get freetime after game days when you were traveling, it was nice to explore where you were playing or just getting to hang out, unregulated, with your teammates. Sunday consisted of a practice in the morning, then more free time, followed by the bus ride back in the evening. The large amount of free time on this trip caught your eye, giving you an idea as you dig your phone out from your pocket. You open it to Jessie’s messages again and start typing.

You: If you're up for it, dinner Saturday night?

You realize that feels a bit forward, adding a second message.

You: You can bring a teammate too if you want, it doesn't just have to be us.

Seconds after you send it you see the bubble indicating Jessie is typing pop up, you lock your phone and toss it as if it's on fire into the seat that your legs are resting on. You feel it vibrate against your calf, indicating she had responded. Instead of reaching for your phone you remain still, staring at it. It’s only once the phone vibrates again reminding you that you had a text that you reach and pick it up. Involuntarily you hold your breath and turn on the screen.

Jessie (USA): That would be nice.

The gray bubble appears again.

Jessie (USA): just us

You let the air out of your chest, feeling relieved at her response. She wanted to see you. She wanted to see you, just the two of you. A smile grows on your face as you read over her messages again and again.

You: sounds good, may need some recommendations on dinner locations

This time when you see her typing you hold onto your phone. Watching as the bubble appears for a few seconds before disappearing and reappearing

Jessie (USA): I’ll figure something out and let you know

You begin to type out “sounds like a date” before deciding that it’s a little too forward, against it, deleting it and changing it.

You: perfect!

You waited, seeing if she would respond, not that there was much to respond to but part of you hoped she’d say something else. When she doesn't you shut off your phone. You lean your head back so it rests against the window and you're looking at the ceiling of the bus. You let out a sigh of relief. It feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest for the first time in two days. You now knew she didn't completely hate you, you knew she was willing to let you talk with her again.

Feeling last night's lack of sleep catches up with you, your eyes close and you’re able to drift peacefully asleep, your brain no longer filled with anxieties or concerns about Jessie, you remain asleep until the bus stops and you hear your teammates gathering their belongings to get off the bus. You were finally in Portland.