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ninus9607 · 2 months ago

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Lights, Camera, Action! - Elizabeth Olsen

Pairing(s): Elizabeth Olsen x Female! reader

Word count: 12,3K

tags: l content: slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, actress x actress, wlw MCU, smut, dominant! Lizzie, sub! reader, praise kink, possessive! Lizzie, hickeys & marks, dirty talk, soft smut, fluff, and smutpost-sex cuddles

AN: GUYS, I HOPE YOU WILL LIKE IT, PLS FORGIVE ME FOR EVERY MISTAKE

San Diego Comic-Con – Hall H

The lights in Hall H were brilliant, and the atmosphere was electric with expectation. I sat in my seat on the Marvel panel stage, my heart racing faster than it ever had on filming. This wasn't my first visit, but it was the first time anybody noticed I was here.

Two years ago, I played a "blink-and-you 'miss" character in Age of Ultron. A few lines. A powerful scene. A shadow in the midst of chaos. However, fans remembered. Somehow, they remembered.

I suppose Black Raven left a mark.

Kevin Feige came in close to the microphone, smirking as if he were about to unleash a bombshell. "Some of you might remember a mysterious character who appeared briefly in Age of Ultron."

A renegade force, morally gray and extremely strong... "A vampire who left the fight before the dust had settled."

Whispers spread across the room. The phones were already out. My name was already trending before he said anything.

"Well," he added, "I believe it's time she returned. This time, she's not hiding in the shadows.

He turned to face me. "Please welcome back Y/N Salvatore- returning as Y/C/N, also known as Black Raven, in Captain America: Civil War."

The audience exploded. I blinked under the stage lights, giving a little shocked smile as the room took me completely.

"I'm still trying to believe this is real," I added as the ovation went down. "The last time I came here, I got maybe three minutes of screen time and one stunt scene. Now I am here and just Wow!"

Laughter.

I looked down the table, and there she was. Elizabeth Olsen. Sitting a few chairs away and giving me that familiar half-smile. Soft and illegible. There's something more behind it. Curiosity. Recognition.

We hadn't shot anything together yet, not really. There was only one brief interaction in Ultron that never reached the final edit. But fans have been shipping our characters ever since. Perhaps it was the tension.

Perhaps it was the way my character had watched hers walk away from Sokovia, her face empty as if they had exchanged something neither of them could understand.

The Marvel team went on to other announcements, but I could sense excitement rising around me. Questions from the press. Fan art is already overwhelming social media. Speculation.

Wanda Maximoff and Black Raven are two shattered, deadly women on opposing sides of a conflict.

And somehow, they were destined to clash.

I looked across at Lizzie again.

She was still watching me.

God, I had no clue what was going to happen.

By the end of the panel, I felt like I was floating. The shouting of the audience, the dazzling glare of cameras, and the way supporters sang my name as if I'd always been one of them. As if I hadn't just slipped through the gaps in Ultron and nearly vanished for good.

Outside the hall, the air was dense and bustling. Fans flocked behind barriers with posters, comics, and custom art, and I foolishly attempted to stroll past secretly.

Did not work.

"Y/N! Over here!"

"Oh my god, Black Raven!"

"Please sign this!"

I looked down at a poster of my character, dark and majestic in the shadows, fangs barely visible, red flames curling around her fingers. They even got the cloak correctly. And the eyes—burning with something wild.

"I didn't even know people still cared," I said, surprised as I signed the edge.

"They never forgot you," a devoted fan muttered.

I continued signing. Posters. A sketch of Black Raven and Wanda holding hands and staring at one another like lovers. A shirt with the phrase, "I Do Believe In Killing The Messenger. Know Why? Because It Sends A Message." One female gave me a little plush replica of my character. I laughed so hard I almost cried.

That night, when I returned to my hotel room, the adrenaline hadn't even worn off. I threw off my shoes, opened a soda, and cuddled up on the bed in my huge con sweater. Just as I was going to cruise lazily on Instagram, a fresh notification appeared.

"Robert Downey Jr. added you to the group 'Avengers Assemble 💥'"

I blinked. Then blinked again.

A flood of messages came:

(RDJ) well well well. look who's back from the dead

(Chris E.): about time

(Tom H.): I've literally been waiting since I was twelve

(Lizzie 🥀): welcome back, stranger

(ScarJo): don't read the fine print. you're already in too deep

(Hemsworth 🍺): A VAMPIRE! I KNEW I LIKED YOU

I laughed into my pillow. What the hell is my life right now?

My fingers hovered over the group chat. I typed, deleted, and then finally sent:

(You): wait... what exactly did I sign up for?

(RDJ): That's cute. She thinks she has a choice.

(Lizzie 🥀): don't worry. you're safe with us.

(Lizzie 🥀): ...mostly.

I bit my lip, rereading the last message. My heart did something strange. Probably just the Coke. Or the heat. On the other hand, Lizzie sent a winking emoji immediately after.

I hadn't even read the entire script yet. I wasn't sure where my character was headed. Whether Black Raven would fight with or against Wanda. Whether they were enemies or anything else.

The sun filtered through the hotel drapes, creating a golden and gentle glow. I lay there for a time, taking in the peaceful morning mood. My body hurt in that slow, wonderful manner after yesterday's rush of panels, autographs, and screaming fans. I should have felt tired. I should have grumbled, nestled further into the cushions, and requested for another five minutes.

But I did not.

Because this was the day.

This is my first official Marvel table read since Age of Ultron. My actual return. Not just a postscript. Not as a supporting character with two lines and a beautiful battle scene. But as a true player, Black Raven. People remember the vampire antiheroes.

I took a long shower, letting the water calm my worries, the steam wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. Once dry, I stood in front of the closet for a little moment, just long enough to feel a flutter in my chest.

I wanted to feel like myself. But I also wanted to appear like I belonged here.

I put on cut black pants that hugged my waist well and made me feel quietly strong. A fresh white shirt was tucked in with a relaxed grace, and I layered on a lightweight, long camel coat that murmured gentle luxury.

Small gold hoops, silver rings, and a pair of glossy black loafers that catch the light. No logos. There's no chaos. Simply classic lines and calm assurance.

I left my hair down, brushed and elegant, with a single clip on the side to keep it out of my face. Makeup was clean, smooth, and very effortless. A little brow gel, a pop of color, and tinted lip balm.

I gazed into the mirror.

European subtlety with a biting undertone. That was me!

The studio sent a vehicle. Standard black SUV with silent driver and darkened windows. Very Marvel. I sat in the back with my coffee, pretending I wasn't sweating.

When I got to the lot, someone from production greeted me with a badge and a big smile. "They're all inside already. "You are sitting between Anthony and Lizzie."

"Lizzie?"

"Elizabeth Olsen."

"Cool," I blurted far too hastily. "Cool, cool, cool."

The door to the reading room opened, and I walked into a strange little dream. Long table. Dozens of chairs. Familiar faces, some I'd only seen in films, others I'd met briefly years before.

Scarlett Johansson gave me a wink and a nod. Sebastian Stan lifted his coffee as a toast. Chris Evans grinned and patted me on the back. "About damn time."

Then Lizzie.

She was already sitting, thumbing through the script, her hair in a loose braid, and a comfortable, oversized sweater flowing down one shoulder. She glanced up the instant I walked in, and her face brightened.

Like, genuinely lights up.

"Hey, stranger," she whispered quietly, rising to hug me.

I froze for a half-second. Just a second. Then I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tightly. She smelled like honey, coffee, and something warm that I couldn't identify.

"You look like you belong here," she said softly against my ear. "You ready to break hearts?"

"Only if you help," I said back.

She drew away, her eyes gleaming with something I couldn't identify.

We sat down. Anthony Mackie leaned in and said, "Just so you know, there are already fan edits of you two spreading."

Lizzie smiled without looking up. "I've seen them."

The reading started.

Tony had lines. So did Steve. But as the image transitioned to Wanda and Black Raven, Wanda stopped outside a decaying structure, her hand lifted in midair as Y/N came from the shadows. I could feel a shift in the collective reaction.

I read my line carefully, eyes fixed on the page. "Did you miss me, little witch?" My European accent went on.

And Lizzie... God! Lizzie's voice dropped an octave. "You were supposed to be dead."

I gazed at her. She stared at me.

The table remained still. Someone let out a faint whistle. Someone another said, "Y'all need a moment?"

We laughed. Just enough to release the stress.

But that moment lasted.

After the reading, everyone went for notes, coffee, and chaos. I found myself near the studio lot, seated on a low wall behind a shade tree, phone in hand, but forgotten. Lizzie stepped up with two iced lattes and offered one to me.

"You were incredible," she stated. "Like you never left."

She raised her head. "Still haven't read the whole script?"

I shake my head. "Trying to savor it. I don't want to learn everything too quickly."

She grinned slowly. "Then I will not spoil it. "But...you and I have some scenes."

"Oh?" WHAT???????

"Some very close ones." ARE YOU KIDDING ME, MARVEL

My cheekbones warmed. "You say that like it's a problem."

"It's not." She stared me dead in the eyes, funny yet serious below. "Unless you make it one."

And before I could say anything else, before I could even think, she was walking away, sipping her drink, hips swaying like a goddess in worn jeans and an Avengers crew hoodie.

I stared after her, heart hammering like I'd just survived a stunt scene.

Welcome back to Marvel, I thought.

A few months later.

Most of the nervous butterflies had disappeared by this point. The set had become like a second home, filled with familiar voices and traditions. I wasn't simply a new girl anymore. Everyone made it simple.

Chris gave me the nicest bear hugs and always made sure I ate my lunch. Scarlett had the type of cool that made you want to better your game, yet she always welcomed me with a warm smile and a "Hey, superstar." Anthony Mackie was an utter menace - but in the most lovable manner possible. Paul Bettany kept asking me to read poems between takes, saying it was "very Black Raven of you."

And Robert? He was like my dad!

"And Lizzie..." Lizzie was something else completely.

She'd knock on my door, holding a coffee in one hand and a protein snack in the other, as if she knew just when I needed her. Her jokes were dry, her eyes mischievous, and I'd caught myself looking a bit too long on several occasions.

We had gotten close. She was close enough to connect her arm with mine as we headed to the set. My heart skipped a beat every time she leaned close to murmur something only I could hear.

I knew exactly what I was doing.

I simply didn't know whether she did.

That afternoon, I was sitting with one of the directors, Joe, just outside the soundstage. The sun was casting a wandering light on the edge of the asphalt lot as he ran through the following several days' sequences.

"So, for next week," Joe remarked, brushing through his tablet, "we have the rooftop scene. You and Wanda are alone. It's the first time your character truly opens up."

I tilted my head, wondering. "What kind of open up are we talking about?"

He grinned. "The slow-burning sort. The 'I might not trust the Avengers, but I trust you' type."

My face felt heated.

He caught it as he looked up. "You good with that?"

"Yeah. No, yes. I mean, it's a great scene," I said, flicking through my copy of the script. "So, it's just me and Lizzie on the rooftop. At night?"

Joe nodded. "Right after the dramatic battle sequence. You are both still startled. Then it's silent. That time when the city hums under you and there is no goal or strategy. Just—" He hesitated and grinned. "Just feelings."

I swallowed. "Right. Feelings."

I sat in my trailer, flipping over the script. The rooftop scene.

It wasn't romantic, officially. But it may be.

Wanda looks at Y/N with gentle eyes. Y/N does not flinch for the first time. They don't quite touch. But it is near. Too close.

CMON Y/N, U GOT THIS! YOU ARE A TALENTED ACTRESS, DON'T U?

Interior Set – Rooftop at Night – Scene 57

When I arrived at the rooftop set, the wind machines were already rumbling. Lights positioned to resemble a dark skyline threw long shadows across the faux-concrete, and I adjusted the black leather of my outfit as I proceeded to my destination.

Lizzie was already there, in her deep red coat, gaze faraway and focused, and falling into Wanda's sorrow.

Joe made a few parting remarks off camera, but I hardly heard him. My fingertips brushed over the hilt of the false dagger on my thigh. The character's familiar weight slipped into my chest like a second skin. I wasn't Y/N Salvatore anymore. I was Black Raven.

"Ready?" the assistant director called.

"Rolling!" came from the sound.

"Slate in!"

The clack of the slate snapped, and then -

"Action!"

I let my gaze fall to the city skyline in front of me, taking in the depth of the picture and the severity of what I was going to say. The director, Joe, was allowing us space to relax into the spirit of the moment. I needed it.

I took a breath and proceeded carefully toward Wanda, each step thoughtful and silent. Raven's boots reverberated softly on the rooftop floor. My expression was inscrutable, meticulously crafted, calm on the surface, chaos beneath.

"Why are you here?" Lizzie spoke, her voice as raspy as Wanda's. She avoided looking at me at first, as if it hurt too much.

Raven paused. Her gaze searched the devastation below. Blood had flowed. Soldiers had died.

"You still believe in me," I said — Raven said. Her tone was not desperate. It was not a plea. Just pure curiosity. "Even after everything."

Wanda finally met her eyes.

"Because you've never hurt me."

A pause.

"And because you care... even when you don't want anyone to see it."

My expression flared. Not too much. Just enough to show that anything impacted her insides. My jaw clenched. I came closer, slowly and cautiously, as if Wanda was something I might damage simply by being near her.

Raven's voice lowered to almost a whisper now. "Maybe I'm tired of hiding."

And then, unexpectedly, her breath caught. Her face crumbled in the simplest, most human manner. Her shoulders twisted inward, as if she were sinking beneath an unseen weight, and tears welled up in her eyes, quiet, genuine, quivering on her eyelids.

"They're still arguing about whether you're dangerous or just reckless."

I smirked. "They're not wrong."

"I saw what you did out there," she said. "To those soldiers."

"They were trying to blow up a refugee truck," I answered casually. "So I ripped their throats out. Problem solved."

"You could've taken them down without... that."

"I could have," I replied, finally turning to face her. "But where is the fun in that?"

"You're not heartless."

Lizzie's voice trembled just slightly, even as her magic buzzed through the air like a quiet hum between us. "You just don't waste your heart on the wrong people."

"I never asked for this," I whispered, voice strained. "I just wanted to protect something, for once."

Then tears began to fall.

Not in the script.

Not planned.

I could sense that everyone was watching.

"You don't have to do it alone," Lizzie said quietly, coming in closer and gently placing her forehead on Y/N's. "We will figure it out. Together."

"Cut!"

I blinked once and again. Straightened. I took a silent step back, shrugged my shoulders, and wiped the tear from beneath my eye with my knuckle as if it were just another spread of makeup.

The entire crew remained quiet.

And then

Applause.

Real, loud applause.

"Holy shit," I heard someone from the lights mutter.

Joe went forward with a shocked expression and raised his hands. "That, whatever it was, we're keeping it. There is no second take."

Lizzie continued to gaze at me, her eyes wide. "How do you do that?" she muttered. "Like—switch it on and off like that?"

I laughed softly, removing an unwanted strand of hair from my face. "I drink a lot of espresso and don't think about it too much."

She grinned slowly, a little confused. "You were amazing."

"You made it easy," I replied softly, my voice totally Y/N again. "Your Wanda breaks my heart."

Joe walked over, his expression surprised. "That... was beyond incredible. Y/N, Elizabeth—your chemistry, the way you two just... felt that scene. I can't even put it into words. That was... magic."

But I felt it.

The way everyone looked at me has changed a little differently now.

The way Lizzie did, especially.

And I couldn't help but wonder, was it still just acting?

My phone lights up...

"Don't judge me," Robert said via text. "But I'm very certain I ate something suspicious today. "

I giggled softly to myself before scrolling down to see what others had said- Chris had tweeted a photo of himself "prepping for battle" with a pile of weights stacked around him. Then I received a text from Lizzie.

(Lizzie 🥀)I'm curious, Y/N: do you ever simply... quit being Black Raven? Is she always on your mind?

The message she wrote took me off guard, sending a shudder down my spine. I quickly composed my reply.

(You)I wish I could claim I left her on set, but she stays. But when you work with people like you, Lizzie, it's difficult not to bring her out, you know?

I waited for a bit, my pulse pumping slightly quicker than normal as I expected her reaction. But before I could think about it, my phone rang again.

(Lizzie 🥀)Hmm, maybe I'll give Wanda a chance at her. 😉 The chemistry is obvious.

I smiled, though no one could see it. I wasn't sure if she was still talking about our characters or something more personal. Perhaps both.

(You): Is this a challenge? Because Black Raven will not back down from one.

I sat back, exhaled, and smiled slightly. Was it a flirtation? I couldn't tell, but I didn't mind being unclear. For once, I wanted to let the words hang in the air without overthinking them. After all, everything was in good humor.

(RDJ) (After Lizzie's message): That's all. Y/N and Lizzie are now a real thing. Someone bring the popcorn.

I blinked, thoroughly caught off guard. Wait, was he talking about the chat? About us?

(Chris E.): You know what? I think they'd make an excellent couple. Don't you think?

(You): Lol, okay, okay, maybe I've had too much espresso today.

The studio lights had been bright for hours, and my legs hurt from running through take after take. The strain that came from filming Captain America: Civil War was finally easing as we took a break and spread across the set, ready for the next scene. The entire team had gathered in the makeup room to cool down, get food, and do everything they could to rest for a few seconds before the chaos returned.

I found myself standing in the corner of the room, trying to recover my breath while checking my phone for emails, texts, and the usual disaster. Lizzie walked in, her hair still a little filthy from the previous takes but looking effortlessly gorgeous as always. She gave me a heart-stopping smile, and I couldn't help but smile back.

"How's the new Black Raven scene going?" Lizzie asked, leaning on the counter near me. Her voice was sweet and playful, as if she understood how hard the day had been.

I rolled my eyes theatrically. "Oh, you understand. Running, battling, and being hit by objects I'm supposed to avoid. A typical day in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, right?"

Lizzie chuckled, her eyes bright with delight. "I'm sure it's nothing compared to the battle we're about to have in the next scene."

I raised my eyebrow at her. "Are you telling me Wanda is going to fight Black Raven? I'm all in on that."

Lizzie shrugged lightly, but I saw how her gaze lingered on mine a little longer than needed. "Who knows? Perhaps we'll be on the same side. Or not. You never know with us. "We have history."

That final part caught my attention.. She said it casually, but there was something more beneath the words, making me question if she was hinting at something more. "So, what do you think about the future?" Will we be best friends or enemies?" I asked, hoping to keep the discussion light, but I could see the air between us shifting, charged with something more.

Lizzie paused, her lips twisting into a cheeky grin. "I believe we could have some interesting chemistry on screen. You and I."

"Alright, guys," Joe Russo's voice echoed through the room, "let's get ready for the next shot."

The Filming Break

After another long sequence, the team took a break, and I found myself seated next to Lizzie again. This time, we were joined by a few other cast members, but the space between Lizzie and me felt different, as if there was an invisible thread pulling us together, even though we were sitting around chatting. We chuckled about the most recent scenario, in which our characters were meant to face off in a dramatic battle.

"You looked incredible in that fight scene," Lizzie added, her eyes shining with real adoration. "I have to admit, I didn't expect to be that ruthless."

I chuckled and shook my head. "Hey, this is all part of the character. But it's difficult to keep a straight face when we're dressed in silly costumes."

There was a silent moment, and the sound of the team preparing the next shot resonated in the distance. But it was not my top priority. I was concentrated on Lizzie, her eyes meeting mine,

"Maybe we could do that," I replied gently, my pulse pounding slightly quicker. "After we finish filming, might we... have a drink? Talk about life beyond the MCU?"

Lizzie's expression softened, and I could see a change in her eyes. She was considering it. "I'd like that," she murmured, barely rising above a whisper.

The last take had just finished, and the entire set burst into cheers. Some of us cheered and accepted. I stood there, hands on my hips, gathering my breath, my heart rushing from adrenaline rather than actual effort.

Months of filming, endless takes, bruises, sweat, early mornings, and late nights resulted in this: the final fight sequence in Berlin.

We were still in costume, half-covered in fake dirt, sweat seeping down between layers of leather, yet no one cared. There was a thrill, the type you feel after doing something incredible.

One of the assistants rolled in a monitor, and the director called out, "Alright, gather around. Let's watch the last sequence. You've earned it."

The screen began to light up. The first few clips of the Berlin combat began to play, with all the uncut footage patched together by one of the editors, who worked like magic. We watched as Cap and Tony fought, Peter helped with his spider ability, and Scott transformed into an actual giant.

But then came the moment we all waited for.

Wanda, or Lizzie in full Scarlet Witch beauty, flew over the asphalt and landed hard. The camera switched to a wide shot. A burst of black feathers and red energy appeared on the screen.

There I was, racing full speed at her, my boots hitting the concrete with amazing elegance. I sank to my knees next to her, scared yet cool. The sound wasn't completely mixed yet, but we could still hear the speech perfectly.

"You shouldn't have stayed behind."

"And let you go alone?" Never."

"You betrayed Tony."

"I don't care."

Everyone else made some kind of noise—"Oof," "Damn," "Okay, chemistry!" but I hardly heard it. I was looking at the screen too much. Specifically, on me, who was almost straining not to gaze at Wanda's chest in that fitting corset. And failing.

Badly.

Lizzie's lips twitched into a grin, and I noticed this out of the corner of my eye. She leaned down and said, "You were definitely not looking at my chest all the time in that scene."

Let forth a faint, regretful chuckle. "I stayed in character."

"Oh, sure," she said, sipping her coffee like a smug witch. "Black Raven was just emotionally overwhelmed by the... depth of Wanda's neckline."

By the time the last fight scene appeared on the monitor, the audience had quieted.

Everything stopped, including the conversation, taunting, and rustling of the food. We all sat there, actors still clad in half-costumes, sweating, hanging to our foreheads, our gaze fixed on the screen. The Berlin conflict was chaotic, but this was something else.

Tony. Steve. Bucky.

It wasn't simply punches and shields anymore; betrayal, sorrow, and desperation were woven into every action. Every punch was personalized. Every breath was heaviest.

When the shield collided with the arc reactor, there was a collective inhalation.

Nobody spoke. Nobody had to.

I noticed Chris and Robert seated side by side, both appearing much more serious than normal. Sebastian had his arms folded and his eyes squinted. Lizzie's fingers remained motionless against the sleeve of her sweatshirt, her knuckles white.

Then the screen went dark.

And another scene started.

Steve stormed down the Raft's hallways, mouth clenched, eyes scouring each gloomy path. The emergency lights flashed to a low red. The doors burst open. Guards had died. Empty cells.

Everyone leaned forward.

We hadn't viewed the footage yet—it wasn't done. Despite knowing what was about to happen, my stomach fluttered. I recalled shooting it and the weight of it. The atmosphere on set had been strained that day.

The camera followed Steve through the prison until he came to a stop.

Right there, bodies sprawled over the floor. Wanda's cell broke open. Debris. Smoke. Chaos.

Then the Woman emerged from the darkness, boots clicking on damp concrete.

Black Raven.

Me.

Drenched in blood, with tangled hair, the black villain's outfit is ripped and wild, like shadows sewn to skin. My character was motionless—except for her arms, which clutched Wanda against her chest. Wanda's hand grabbed my shoulder weakly.

Steve's voice resonated and was raspy. "What did you do?"

"What you would not do. Do not try to stop me, no one will hurt her again. And be careful, Captain. You're only alive because she likes you. And everything on my body wants to murder you, so stand aside."

The place nearly burst.

"Holy shit," Anthony Mackie said, half-standing. "That was badass."

"That's gonna break the internet," Scarlett said, her eyes still wide.

I saw myself on film taking Wanda to the Helicopter before turning around and disappearing into the darkness.

Chris whistled softly. "That's when the audience knows she isn't just a villain. She's something else entirely."

"I've got chills," Lizzie muttered near me.

Paul blinked. "Did... did your character kill all of them by herself?"

I gave a little smile. "She did."

"I love her," Robert announced. "She is terrifying. I love her."

Sebastian nudged me. "You looked like a vampire version of Batman."

"Thanks, I think?"

"No, seriously," the director interrupted, arms folded as he inspected the monitor. "That moment, when she carries Wanda like that? That isn't simply dark; it's loyalty. You can feel it."

Lizzie did not say anything immediately. She simply leaned in again and murmured, "You looked like you'd set the world on fire for her."

I looked at her, my lips parted slightly.

"And you looked like you'd let me."

She blushing but did not look away.

"Okay," Chris broke the quiet. "But can we talk about how Steve literally shows up ready to break them out, and Y/N's already done it and left a dramatic calling card?"

"I like a little flair," I shrugged.

"You carried me like a bride," Lizzie teased.

"You looked like one," I shot back without thinking.

She blinked.

So did I.

Scarlett grinned, she knew. "Guys get a room please, your eye fucking is too much even for me."

Jimmy Fallon show - a few months later

The lights came on strong, and the applause was louder than I imagined, but honestly? I was too high on adrenaline to notice.

Walking onto the Tonight Show set with the rest of the Avengers cast was unreal. The audience exploded as if we were true superheroes - Sebastian grinned, Robert blew kisses, Chris and Anthony began arguing playfully, and Scarlett walked like she ruled the building (she kinda did).

I greeted, smiled, and hugged Jimmy Fallon before sliding into my seat between Lizzie and Paul. Not by accident.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Jimmy announced dramatically once we had all settled down, "we have the most powerful couch on Earth right now."

"So," Jimmy leaned forward, fingers steepled, "Captain America: Civil War. Huge feelings. Large fighting. There's a lot of confusion. And some new faces..."

He grinned as he turned to face me. "Y/N Salvatore, Black Raven herself, welcome to the madness."

The audience applauded again. I giggled gently and smoothed my dress.

"Thank you," I said. "I'm still not sure how I ended up here. One day I'm filming in a castle cellar in Romania, and the next I'm avoiding flying vehicles,"

"You're incredible in the movie," Jimmy replied. "The prison scene? You're carrying Wanda out like you're a goth vampire knight in shining armor?"

The crowd howled. Lizzie gave a little sigh beside me, covering her mouth to conceal a chuckle.

"I-I was doing my best, okay?" I shrugged. "Black Raven is a little dramatic. It's in her blood."

Chris said, "She also kills like... twenty guards in under a minute," his eyes wide. "I was like - did we just add a slasher villain to the team?"

"She's not a villain," Lizzie insisted, remarkably adamant. "She's complicated."

I gazed at her. She stared at me.

Jimmy blinked. "Oh, hello."

More laughs. Robert leaned into his microphone. "This has been going on through the press trip. I swear to God."

"Don't look at us like that!" Lizzie protested, her cheeks flushing just enough to be noticed.

"Okay, but," Jimmy said, pulling out a single shot from the tape of me kneeling by Wanda, cradling her protectively, blood streaming from my hands. "You can't blame us for shipping it."

Cue the crowd losing their heads.

Scarlett laughed. "They have unreal chemistry. Like, we all saw it."

"Yeah," Anthony nodded. "Even between takes, they were still looking at each other like—"

"Finish that sentence and I swear—" I warned, but I was laughing too hard to sound serious.

Jimmy grinned. "Okay, alright. We'll keep things cool for now. But truly, your performance was incredible. The emotional intensity, the silence, the uncertainty..."

He turned back to face the group. "Was anyone else on set just like... watching her and forgetting to act?"

Paul raised his hand. "I did. Twice. I got yelled at."

Sebastian nodded. "I tripped over my line."

I ducked my head and grinned. "Now you're all just being sweet."

"No," Lizzie responded quietly. "You were real. And it is unusual."

The room was silent for a little moment. Just enough for me to notice how near her knee was to mine again. And how warm her hand felt as it lightly touched mine as the talk progressed.

We laughed, mocked, and acted out our biggest blunders (Chris screwed up his shield flip and smacked a bulb. Classic). Jimmy showed a montage of us dancing behind the scenes—yes, there was an uncomfortable moment when Lizzie and I spun around in full costume as the stunt squad looked at us like puzzled pups.

But the moment that stuck?

When Jimmy pulled out a fan-edited clip of Black Raven and Wanda with the title: "Born To Burn – A Love Between Fire and Shadow".

And we both blushed like idiots.

I was still laughing at Paul's impersonation of Vision trying yoga when Jimmy leaned in again, this time with that sparkle in his eye that suggested he was ready to stir things up.

"Alright, alright," he murmured, interrupting the laughter. "I know I can't expect too much, but come on... We need to discuss what comes next."

I felt my smile freeze slightly.

"What about the new Avengers lineup? Perhaps a secret antihero will make more appearances?" He raised an eyebrow wildly and fixed his eyes on me. "Y/N, will we be seeing more of Black Raven in the future?"

The audience reacted with a chorus of excited gasps and cheers, with some admirers in the first row already screaming my character's name.

I opened my lips, not knowing what to say.

Scarlett, thankfully, jumped in first. "If she tells you anything, Feige will literally teleport here and kill us all."

Everyone laughed, but Jimmy was not finished.

"Oh, come on," he responded, smirking. "No teases?" "Not even a hint?"

I attempted to maintain a neutral look, but my stomach was already in knots. I hadn't even read the final script for the following step. Rumors were flowing, and the pressure was building, but was it true? I wasn't sure what I was permitted or wanted to say.

I glanced down immediately, attempting to seem casual, but my fingers curled a bit harder around the edge of the couch seat.

Then I felt it.

A soft, comforting hand gently touched my thigh, right above my knee.

Lizzie.

She said nothing and didn't even look at me. Her gaze was still fixed on Jimmy, and her smile was as calm and dazzling as ever. But her thumb glided gently back and forth on the material of my dress.

It was a tiny gesture. Soft. Subtle. But stable.

I inhaled gently through my nose, urging my shoulders to remain calm. My heart, which had begun to stutter in my chest, resumed its normal rhythm.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," I eventually said, giving Jimmy a faint smirk. "But I do think the universe of Black Raven still has some shadows left to explore."

Jimmy lifted both brows and glanced around at the others. "That... felt like a yes."

Robert clapped his hands once. "That was a studio-trained 'I can't answer this' voice if I've ever heard one."

"Ten out of ten," Chris said. "Very smooth."

Lizzie's hand squeezed my thigh, barely noticeable, but she never took her hand off me.

I took a quick glimpse at her.

She didn't look at me. But the sweetest smile tugged on the corner of her lips.

Time passed...

The premier light finally faded. The press junkets slowed. The constant travel, fittings, early call times, and all-day shootings were finally over—or at least put on hold. But even after I returned to my own small corner of the earth, a peaceful house in New Jersey, the Marvel craziness continued.

Naturally, I kept in touch with the cast. That part was simple.

Group discussions were filled with inside jokes and memes. Chris still sent way too many selfies of himself and Dodger. Scarlett dropped voice messages that never made sense, and Robert constantly sent me culinary recommendations no matter where I was in the world.

And then there was Lizzie.

We chatted. Often.

Sometimes it was simply voice messages at 2 a.m. We sometimes had extended FaceTime chats while she was cooking. Sometimes, there was silence, yet it didn't feel far. Just...quiet comfort. Her name was constantly visible at the top of my texts. My thoughts were continuously drawn back to her.

I wasn't quite sure what we were. But I knew we weren't simply friends—that didn't seem right anymore.

It had been pouring outdoors when this happened.

I was tucked up in my favorite oversized sweatshirt, covered in a throw blanket, and sipping chamomile tea while reading through a stack of forgotten mail and half-read magazines that were gathering on the kitchen counter.

Then one headline attracted my attention.

"Scarlet Spell? Black Raven & Wanda Maximoff Actress Spotted Hand-in-Hand After Intimate NYC Dinner"

My stomach dropped, then fluttered.

I focused on the glossy photo printed over the bottom half of the tabloid. It was grainy, somewhat dark, but clearly us. Lizzie and I were going along a quiet street at night after supper last week. I had entirely forgotten that photographers were standing near that restaurant. She was giggling, her head slightly tilted back, and my hand was in hers.

Not for the camera. Not for public relations.

Just... her fingers curled around mine as if they belonged there.

I sat back on the barstool and looked at the paper.

Part of me panicked. What about the other part? I kind of didn't care.

I grabbed for my phone, my fingers hesitating over Lizzie's number.

Before I could start typing, a fresh message appeared on the screen.

Lizzie🩶: You saw it? 🙈 ...We look cute tho, not gonna lie.

Later that night...

My phone buzzed again, this time with an incoming FaceTime call from Lizzie.

I barely hesitated before responding.

Her face dominated the screen, lighted only by the warmth from her bedside lamp. Hair slightly messy, large sweatshirt, no makeup - it's simply her. She still managed to look like a dream.

"Hey," she responded, her voice mild and somewhat raspy. "You okay?"

I grinned and tucked my knees up to my chest. "You mean after our small-town scandal broke the internet?"

Lizzie laughed. "Right, I forgot, hand-holding, the most forbidden act."

"I know," I teased. "Next thing you know,w we'll be... smiling at each other in public."

"Oh, the horror."

We both laughed, slipping into that comfortable rhythm, the easy warmth that only comes from being with someone you trust.

There was a nice pause, although it lasted a little longer than normal.

"You looked good in that photo," she ultimately replied, her gaze shifting away from the camera for a moment. "Not that this is news. You always do."

I blinked, my lips parted slightly. "You, too. You looked happy."

She shrugged casually. "I was. I mean-I am. With you. It's always fun."

"Fun?" I teased, raising an eyebrow. "That's what I am to you?"

Lizzie leaned closer to the TV, smiling. "Maybe a little more than fun."

The butterflies in my stomach grew into something heavier.

And then—

DING!

A group chat notification slid across the top of the screen. "RDJ 🧃🥸: Alright nerds, suit up. We've got a new project to talk about 👀🦸‍♂️ #avengersassembleagain"

I blinked and then laughed out. "Did he seriously just—"

Lizzie was already rolling her eyes and grinning. "Of course he did."

"I didn't even get time to emotionally recover from the last one."

"We never do," she said. "That's the Marvel way."

I gazed back at her via the screen. A glimmer of passion. Her eyes sparkled.

"So," I asked gently, "Do you think we'll work together again?"

She smiled more slowly this time. "I really hope so."

I leaned my cheek against my hand. "Yeah. Me, too."

INT. CONVENTION HALL – MARVEL PRESS CONFERENCE

The stage was stylish. The backdrop said, "Marvel Studios: Phase 4 - Expanding the Universe." The rows of reporters, camera crews, and executives packed the room. The air was alive with curiosity.

I sat next to Lizzie, my posture excellent, and tried not to mess with the pen in my hand. Everyone had papers in front of them with secret Marvel material. Contracts. NDAs. Early outlines of the initiative, which we were here to publicly reveal.

I'd already read mine, attempting to keep my eyes from widening at the images I was in. And, more especially, who I was with throughout them.

Robert leaned down and said, "Have you read page 73 yet?" OH LORD, SEX SCENE...

I gave him a sideways glance. "Don't get me started."

He grinned and leaned back, as though he already knew everything.

Kevin Feige entered the stage. "The next film is something personal. We're sticking with a darker tone and more grounded emotion—but also something fans have been asking for."

The Russo Brothers then emerged, wearing their typical cool and cryptic expressions.

Anthony said that Y/N Hale and Wanda Maximoff would have a significant story in the next film.

The audience did not respond for a second.

And then, BOOM.

Gasps, whispers, and a few shouts. People began making notes and raising their hands. One reporter asked, "Romantic?"

Lizzie's gaze shifted toward me.

Joe nodded. "We can't say more."

My cheeks burned. I gulped water as if my life depended on it.

Chris Evans leaned forward and murmured, "You two are already trending. Check Twitter."

Scarlett gave me a slow smirk. "Better get used to the spotlight again, rookie."

I tried to hide my grin as I signed the last page of my contract. Black ink. Official.

Marvel had just made it canon.

And suddenly, we were the storyline.

INT. OUTDOOR MARVEL STUDIOS LOT – LUNCH TENT

The sun was warm overhead, creating a golden glow over the Marvel lot. A big picnic-style table was set up beneath an umbrella, and it was packed with known faces, including Chris Hemsworth with three protein bowls in front of him, Sebastian mocking Mackie, Tom Holland jumping in his seat, and RDJ at the head like some cheeky monarch.

I sat tucked between Scarlett and Lizzie, pecking at my salad and trying not to seem too excited.

Chris Evans sat down opposite us, sliding his tray as if he owned the table. "Okay, let us discuss Infinity War. No spoilers, but I read the script last night and"

"—You read the script?" Tom cut in quickly. "I've been given, like, three pages, and one of them was blacked out!"

Everyone came out laughing.

"Tom, you're literally the reason we have that many NDAs," Mackie said, pointing at him.

"I'm an innocent boy!" Tom gasped in his English accent.

"Sure you are," Sebastian murmured, his mouth full of fries.

Lizzie leaned over to me, lips close to my ear. "Have you read your scenes yet?"

"Not all," I said, clicking my nails on my water bottle. "But I saw one where I—uh—jump between two crumbling buildings and Wanda save me out mid-collapse?"

She grinned slowly.

"Maybe Marvel's trying to tell you something," Scarlett replied, without looking up from her dish.

Everyone turned.

"What?" She grinned and shrugged. "I see everything."

"Honestly, though," Hemsworth said, "the energy you two bring? Electric. I'm kind of jealous."

"Agreed," RDJ said. Seeing your connection on screen is like witnessing a solo film romance inserted into a superhero film. Very broody and intense."

Lizzie and I exchanged looks. I attempted to laugh it off, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"We're just... committed to the characters," I explained, attempting to maintain a cheerful tone.

"Right," Sebastian responded, exaggerating. "Very... method."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't you have a brooding scene to rehearse or something?"

Chris Evans smiled. "I ship it."

Tom blinked. "You mean in the movie?"

RDJ leaned back, his sunglasses glinting. "Sure, let's say that."

Lizzie's hand brushed mine under the table again, intentionally, softly. I looked down. She didn't move it. Neither did I.

"Okay, no spoilers," Feige called as he passed by with his own tray. "But can we all agree this cast is going to break hearts in Infinity War?"

"Oh, they're not ready," Scarlett said, gesturing between Lizzie and me with her fork. "Especially not for these two."

I hid my face in my cup. Lizzie just chuckled lowly beside me.

The sun was beginning to set behind the sound stages, coloring the sky in gold and pink. I was snuggled up on the little sofa in my trailer, script pages spread out on my lap, but I wasn't reading anymore.

Instead, I found myself looking at a specific scene, one in which my character and Wanda kiss and have sex. We're supposed to shoot it today. This is my first time on a Marvel movie with wlw intimate scenes, and I am quite nervous. There is also a sex scene with Lizzie, so ahhh.... This was not the first time our characters had kissed. Not by far. But... it was the one that lingered in my chest the most.

It wasn't difficult to pretend I was dating Wanda Maximoff. If anything, it was too simple. Sometimes I told myself that this was the most natural character I'd ever performed. The gentle stares, the lingering touches, the calm times between explosions when she'd grab my hand—it no longer seemed like acting. It felt like breathing.

The only thing that was not real was the kisses. And yet, every time Lizzie's lips touched mine on camera, I fell a bit deeper.

The first few times had been playful. Nervous laughs, gentle chuckles when the director yelled cut. But recently, Lizzie had changed. There was a change. There is a dominance to the way she touches me now- less hesitant, more confident. Her fingertips on my jaw, her thumb caressing my face, the gentle way she guided me through the scene.

And I let her. Gladly.

God, I probably looked like an idiot, leaning into her every action as if gravity drew me there.

I remembered the last scene we'd shot: her v me against the wreckage, and our characters finally having a raw moment of confession. Her forehead was pushed against mine, her breathing unsteady, and for a minute... I wasn't sure whether Wanda or Lizzie was whispering, "I can't lose you."

There was a knock on my trailer door just as I'd finished tying my robe. I was still mentally pacing, flipping through the revised script pages for today's shoot.

Not graphic, not that kind of sex scene, but still intimate. Slow, emotional, intense.

"Come in," I called, voice just a little higher than usual.

The door creaked open, and in stepped one of the Russo brothers, script rolled in hand, calm but serious. "Hey, just wanted to give you and Lizzie a quick rundown before we get on set."

I nodded, trying to keep my expression neutral even though my heart was already speeding up.

"We want it slow. Intimate. Like it's not just passion, but release- relief. You've both been holding it in for so long. There should be touches that feel almost hesitant. But once it starts... we want the audience to feel how much your characters want this."

I nodded again, biting the inside of my cheek. "Got it. Oh, and," he added, "when you're moaning, don't hold back. Say her name. Multiple times, people will love it.

He chuckled like it was nothing, but the casual direction sent a spark of heat up my spine. "Be raw with it."

Yeah. Sure. Totally fine. Definitely not freaking out.

I adjusted the collar of my shirt, which was soft and worn-looking. The costume designer had nailed the "undercover but still slightly dramatic" look. My character's hair was messily tied back, and there was no makeup save for the sort they used to make me appear like I had slept four hours in three days. Real method stuff.

Lizzie was already on set, barefoot, sitting on a pretend bed, and drinking from a paper coffee cup. She gave me that comfortable, lopsided smile. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," I said, taking a long breath.

Joe came in next to us and lowered his voice.

"This is morning-after energy," he explained. "You have been on the run for months. You've got used to the silence and your relationship. You are not superheroes here. You're simply two people trying to hang onto something positive. Something honest. We want to feel that."

I nodded, and Lizzie's expression had already changed. Wanda was there. Tired, gentle, and a little guarded.

And when they called action

Everything slid into place.

"I think I saw someone watching us near the market," I remarked, carefully folding a dish towel and placing it on the counter. "He wasn't following me, but... I'm not sure if I'm paranoid or right."

Wanda, Lizzie, glanced up from the table where she was cutting fruit. Her fingers hesitated slightly. "You're probably correct. You usually are."

I turned to face her. "Doesn't make me feel better."

She let out a giggle and walked to me.

"It's been peaceful here," she remarked. "I forgot what peace even felt like."

Lizzie stood close to me, dressed as Wanda, with delicate makeup and a dark red cloak thrown around her shoulders, her hand gently stretching across the table to mine. "We're safe here," she added, with Wanda's soft, quiet, but authoritative tone. It caused chills down my arms.

I nodded and gazed into her eyes, waiting for my cue. But I wasn't acting anymore. When she gripped my hand.

"We don't have to go back," Lizzie said. "We might disappear here. Just you and I."

I swallowed hard. "You really think they'd let us go?" I demanded, leaning forward as the script instructed me. The intensity of Lizzie's gaze on me felt too genuine.

Her fingers brushed under my chin as she tilted my face up. "Let them try," she whispered, right before her lips pressed to mine.

Her hand slid up my jaw, into my hair. I leaned into her touch, kissed her back like I meant it, because maybe... I did.

We locked eyes.

She leaned down and cupped my jaw with delicate fingertips. Her thumb stroked my face, then lowered to my lips.

"You're safe now," she murmured to Wanda, her voice filled with emotion. "With me."

My breath caught. "I always was," I said, just barely audible.

Then, she kissed me again.

As we explored our mouths with our tongues, she slowly moved us to our bed...

Slow at the beginning. Lingering. Her lips slid against mine as if she understood every curve, every pause that made me melt. Her hands moved beneath the blanket, tracing my waist and bringing me closer. Her leg was looped around mine, possessively.

Then, with one hand, she performed her caressing movement, and I held up my hands as if they were magically tied down, because that is the effect they will add later.

"Wanda"

"OH, Wanda"

But as her lips moved to my neck, Lizzie kissed me differently. Less scripted. Hungrier. Her tongue touched my skin, and her fingers curled behind my neck.

And that is when it slid.

"Lizzie..."

I said it like a breath, a prayer.

The camera did not catch it. Nobody said anything. But I felt it. I knew it.

When the director screamed, "Cut!"I jumped upright and tucked the sheet over my chest.

"I'll, um, I'll be in my trailer," I murmured, blushing.

I didn't glance back at Lizzie. Couldn't. My heart was pounding, and my thoughts were spinning out of control. I grumbled since that was not Wanda.

That was Lizzie.

And I meant it.

I'm fucked.

I had been ghosting everyone for a weeks.

Text messages remained unopened. Conversations in groups were muted. Missed calls from Robert, Chris, Scarlett, Paul, and Lizzie.

I just couldn't.

When I moaned her name on set, it seemed like something inside me split wide open. I hadn't only crossed a professional line; I had revealed something far too true. Then I ran like a coward. Classic. And now? I couldn't even look at her, much less pretend we were "just friends" or "just coworkers."

So I remained away. From the cast. From rehearsals. From everything.

I didn't want to admit it, but the only thing that hurt was Lizzie's lack of communication.

Maybe she overheard it. Perhaps she didn't. Regardless, she remained mute.

That made things worse.

I was cuddled up on my couch, hoodie pulled over my head, watching horrible reality TV and eating cold leftovers when the doorbell rang.

I ignored it.

Then came the second ring.

Then they knocked.

Then there was some banging.

And, through the awful door—

"Y/N Salvatore, if you don't open this door in the next ten seconds, I'm calling Feige and telling him you died in a tragic avocado toast incident."

...Goddammit.

I grumbled and trudged to the door, opening it just slightly. Robert Downey, Jr. was standing there. Designer sunglasses, a wide-brimmed hat, coffee in one hand, and what appeared to be a Gucci purse in the other.

"Oh, thank God," he said, shoving past me. "I thought you had vanished. This area smells of sadness and fried chips. Not cute."

"Nice to see you, too," I mumbled, closing the door behind him.

He turned and pointed at me. "Sit. We're talking."

"I'm fine."

"Nope," he said. "You're in love, ignoring your lover, and attempting to self-sabotage before the greatest Marvel premiere of your life. Also, you haven't showered today."

I narrowed my eyes. "Did Lizzie send you?"

He snorted. "Lizzie has no idea I am here. She's too busy pretending she isn't devastated. Which, by the way, she is doing poorly at. The girl has been poking at foods as if they insulted her mother."

I glanced aside, my arms crossed across my chest.

Robert groaned and sat near me on the couch. "Look. I got it. It's messy. You are afraid. You believe you have ruined something."

"I did ruin it."

He shakes his head. "No. You felt something. She did, too. Salvatore, don't play stupid; you both acted as if you forgot there were cameras. Do you believe that type of chemistry is normal? We were all watching playback and wondering if this was still acting."

I didn't respond.

"You're not alone in this," he said quietly. "You are not a monster for having emotions. She definitely did, too. You're both simply being foolish. Which is why I am hosting dinner tonight. One of our last before the press tour madness begins. Everyone is invited. And yes, you will be there."

"I'm not going."

He stood dramatically. "That's wonderful, but I had already planned to drive you there myself. So either you get ready and arrive dressed like a Greek goddess, or I sling you over my shoulder and drag your theatrical vampire ass out in a robe."

I looked at him, blinking. "...Fine. But I'm wearing black."

"Duh. It is your color."

LATER — Y/N's BEDROOM

I stood in front of the mirror, curling the last strand of my hair. Something elegant but soft. My dress was black, yes, but tasteful. Backless. Flowing. Simple, but still dramatic. I applied a final coat of deep red lipstick.

My heart was racing.

Not because of the dinner. But because I knew I'd see her again. Lizzie.

And I had no idea how to act normally anymore.

But I could fake it. That was the job, right?

I grabbed my heels. Took a breath.

Robert was waiting downstairs, blasting ABBA on his phone like a true icon.

Time to face the chaos.

And maybe... her.

Robert's house is like a Vogue spread transformed into a mansion. There are lights everywhere, jazz playing from concealed speakers, candles flickering around the pool, and so many people.

I squinted at the sight, my heels tapping on the marble as I followed Robert through the front door. "Wait," I said, lifting an eyebrow. "Didn't you say this was a dinner?"

He smirked as he stared at me over his spectacles. "I mentioned there will be food. You imagined it meant 'calm' and 'intimate.' That is on you."

"Robert, there are at least forty people here."

"Not a single boring one. "You are welcome."

Before I could strangle him with my hold, he vanished into the crowd, greeting everyone like a Hollywood Zeus descending from Olympus.

I groaned and looked around the room. There is no indication of Lizzie.

Okay. Take a deep breath. Keep it cool.

I approached the bar, anxious for something cold and boozy. That's where I noticed Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan leaning heavily against it, as if they were in some whiskey ad.

"Ayyy, look who rose from the dead!" Anthony grinned and pulled me in for a hug.

"You do look like a vampire queen tonight," Sebastian said, lifting his glass. "I really adore it. Brooding looks fantastic on you."

"Thanks," I mumbled, smiling. "That's what two weeks of existential dread and bad reality TV will do to you."

We clinked glasses. Whiskey scorched my throat.

They spoke, asked how I was, and teased me like elder brothers, which made me chuckle. Until Anthony's smile became hazardous.

"Alright. Dare time."

Sebastian lifted an eyebrow. "This isn't high school."

"Oh, shut up, you love this." Anthony turned to face me. "Y/N, I challenge you to dance with Bucky Barnes over here. But, really, dance. None of that nice swaying. I want hip action. Maintain eye contact. Full commitment."

Sebjust chuckled and reached for my hand. "Are you up for it?"

I arched my brow. "You wish."

But I had already placed my drink down.

The music changed, darker, slower, hotter. Low boom sends through the floor.

And yes, I agreed.

I strolled with Sebastian across Robert's marble living room, as if we were in a noir club scene. Smooth, sultry, and a touch playful. His hand rested softly on my waist as I turned, our feet perfectly coordinated. Everyone around us cheered.

It was enjoyable. Light. Silly.

And suddenly, I felt it.

That sting.

It felt like flames on the back of my neck.

I turned.

Lizzie.

Standing near the bar.

Watching me.

Her jaw tensed, and the wine glass froze in midair. Her eyes focused on me.

Shit.

I quickly stepped back from Sebastian, laughed it off, and grabbed my drink, only to be stopped.

A hand was tightly wrapped around my wrist.

Fingers are warm.

"Lizzie—"

"Outside. Now."

Her voice sounded low. Controlled. Too calm.

She almost dragged me past the crowd and into a quiet corridor beside the kitchen, far enough away from the music to hear only the pounding of my own heartbeat.

And then, boom, I was pinned.

Back against a wall.

Her hands are on either side of my waist.

I'm breathing quickly.

Eyes are black.

"Are you trying to drive me insane?" she growled, moving closer.

I opened my mouth and nothing came out. I wasn't sure what to say.

She drew a trembling breath and moved back half an inch, leaving just enough space to make the tension break like a rubber band. Her voice lowered, harsh with pain. "You avoided me for weeks, Y/N."

I swallowed, remorse setting in.

"And now?" She sneered and clenched her fists. "Now you're out there... dancing with Sebastian like it's a fucking date? Really?" Her voice broke just enough to devastate me. "So what am I, nothing to you now?"

"Lizzie, no-"

"No? Then look me in the eyes and say that."

I tried. God, I tried.

But the moment our eyes met, my heart skipped, my throat tightened, and everything inside me screamed her name.

She laughed sadly, tears threatening but not dropping. "You can't, can you?"

I didn't respond.

"I was there for you," she muttered. "Through all of it. When you shut down, left the stage early, or stopped responding to texts. I waited. I worried. And still, I believed myself you only needed time."

Her fingers stroked my arm, sensitive yet trembling. "But then I walk in tonight and you're smiling like nothing happened. With him. And I can't." She broke off, coming closer.

"I can't look at you with him," she whispered. "Every time I see you with someone else, my body just" Her breath caught. "Every part of me wants to take you away, Y/N. Take you out of this room, put you against a wall, and remind you who you belong to."

She was shaking, but not because she was weak.

Pain. Passion. Love entangled in an unbreakable knot.

"Don't you get it?" She breathed and looked at me as if I were the only thing keeping her alive. "I love you."

That shattered me.

"Liz-" I gasped out.

"I want you completely," she snapped. "I do not want a half-hearted version of you. I do not desire stray looks or hushed practice. I want the version who would whisper lines into my shoulder at midnight. The one who softened as I kissed her neck after a take. I want you. All of you."

And then, suddenly, her lips were inches from me.

Breathless. Burning.

"I can't pretend this is just acting anymore. And I won't."

I gazed at her, every muscle in my body begging to let go. To give in. To tell her I felt the same way, that she wasn't alone in this insane situation. The fear of losing her kept me up every night.

"Say something," she begged.

My chest lifted and sank as if I'd just finished a marathon. Her words were still reaching in my mind: I want you totally. My lips split, but it seemed like my heart had risen up my throat,

I didn't have to think anymore. I didn't need to second-guess or pretend that she hadn't already blasted through every wall I'd ever created.

"Then kiss me."

Her breath caught.

That is all it took.

Lizzie jumped forward in an instant, her lips crashing against mine, angry and hungry. One hand was knotted in my hair, and the other gripped my waist as if she wanted to ground herself before losing control. I slid toward her, holding to her jacket as my lips parted without hesitation.

There was nothing planned or practiced about it. It was not a scene; it was real. Every brush of her tongue, every moan against my mouth, was messy, urgent, and true. We'd waited too long for this. And suddenly everything was spilling out.

She pushed me back against the wall, her body pressed against mine, her thigh slipping between mine with a possessive ease that made my breath catch and my knees weak.

Her mouth left mine, only to trail down my jaw and down my throat, biting softly before returning to my lips as if she couldn't stay away. Her hands were everywhere—sliding beneath my dress, holding my hips, and squeezing as if she didn't care who saw.

And perhaps she didn't. Perhaps I didn't either.

But then

We heard laughter on the opposite side of the hallway. Someone is calling for Chris.

Lizzie remained still.

We were both panting, foreheads mashed together, and hearts pounding like thunder.

"I swear to God," she said, eyes still closed, "if someone ruins this again, I'll kill them."

I laughed out loud, my head tilted back against the wall. "We can't do this here."

She sighed and leaned in for one more kiss, slow this time, deep and devastating. Her hand caressed my cheek as she pulled away, her gaze softening.

"Come with me," she said, her voice lower now. "Let me take you home."

I didn't even hesitate.

When we went out of that hallway, it was like walking into a spotlight. The party's talk stopped for a short moment before resuming.

"Ohhh, look who finally came up for air!" Anthony shouted, raising his cup with a smile.

Sebastian simply let out a long whistle. "It took you long enough. I thought you two were going to fuck each other there."

Chris smiled and nudged Scarlett. "Called it. I said by the end of the night, someone would be pinned to a wall."

Scarlett just rolled her eyes and raised her glass. "Finally."

I felt blood rush to my cheeks. Lizzie and I were still holding hands, fingers interlaced, lips swollen, lipstick slightly blurred, and out of breath. The proof was written all over us.

I squeezed her hand, holding back a laugh as Tom raised his brow and murmured to Zendaya, "Do we cheer? Clap? Light fireworks?"

"Fireworks," Zendaya responded without skipping a beat. "Obviously."

Lizzie simply rolled her eyes at each of them. "Children," she mumbled under her breath, turning to me with a little smile. "Let's get out of here before they start placing bets."

And with that, we slipped out.

Initially, the car was quiet. The city lights reflected a lovely golden tint through the windows, flickering over Lizzie's face as she drove. One hand on the steering wheel and the other on my thigh.

Her thumb brushed gentle circles at first, innocent and even oblivious. But things did not stay that way.

Her hand began to move higher, slowly and carefully.

"You know," she continued casually, not looking at me, "you have the worst poker face."

I swallowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She smirked. "Every time I touched you back there, your breathing changed."

I scoffed, my cheeks flushed. "It did not."

Her fingers climbed a bit higher. "Did so."

"Maybe you were just breathing harder, Olsen."

"Oh, baby." Her voice dipped, seductive and sexy. "I understand how you breathe when I touch you. I've been studying it for several months."

I turned to the window, trying not to burn, but she leaned in at a red light, whispering in my ear, "And when you moaned my name before... even if no one heard it, I did."

Her fingertips were no longer simply teasing my thigh. They explored slowly, confidently, and possessively. Moving up with purpose.

I shifted slightly in my seat, pretending I wasn't losing my mind, but my breath betrayed mesharp and sharp.

Lizzie's smirk deepened, her gaze fixated on the road as if she wasn't driving me insane. "I love how quiet you get when I touch you like this," she said.

Her fingertips dipped just beneath the bottom edge of my dress, brushing across the naked skin on my inner thigh. Higher. Slower. She wasn't hurrying anything. It was as if she wanted to memorize every inch, torturing me with excitement.

"You didn't want to talk to me for weeks," she said quietly and quietly, "but now look at you. "Falling apart in the front seat."

"Lizzie..." I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for just a moment.

She hummed. "You gonna beg me to stop?"

I shook my head, jaw gritted. "No."

She gave a quiet, satisfied laugh. Her hand reached just high enough to make me gasp, and then she drew away entirely.

"What the hell?" I looked at her, breathless, but she had already pulled into her driveway.

She slowly parked the car and then turned to face me. Her lips twisted into that arrogant, drop-dead gorgeous smile, which she knew had wrecked me.

"Get inside," she urged, her tone suddenly stern and forceful. "We're not done."

My heart pounded. "You, are you serious?"

She released her seatbelt with a gentle click. "You have been taunting me for months. Dancing with Sebastian, avoiding me, moaning my name when no one should hear..." Her glance swept over me. "You don't get to walk away again."

I swallowed hard, my knees wobbly, as I hopped out of the car and followed her to the door.

Lizzie turned around, jealousy in her eyes, as the door closed behind us. Before I could blink, she was raising me with ease, as if she had been waiting all night, and my legs reflexively wrapped around her waist.

"Bedroom," I whispered against her neck, my voice shaking.

She grinned. "Obviously."

Her lips claimed mine again, deep and eager, as she went down the hall as if nothing else mattered but putting me on her bed. I felt the heat coming from her skin, and mine felt similar—burning and throbbing.

As soon as we reached the door, she lowered me into the soft sheets—but didn't pull away. Her body hung over mine, her hands slipping under the sleeves of my dress, and her tongue trailing down the side of my neck. She picked a location just below my jaw and bit—not hard, but enough to make me gasp and leave a growing bruise that she had carefully planned.

"That's mine," she said, her voice low and full of yearning.

Her hands grew impatient, pushing the dress over my head, leaving me in nothing but lace. She sat back to view me, her chest rising and falling, mouth parted, and eyes wide.

"You're so beautiful, baby." She leaned back down and kissed my collarbone. "You've got no idea what you do to me."

I arched into her, moaning quietly as her hand moved between my thighs, her fingertips ghosting across the damp cloth. "Lizzie..."

"I know," she whispered. "I know, sweetheart."

She stripped me naked with slow, deliberate strokes, caressing every inch of exposed skin as if I were precious. Her lips traced a route down my ribs, stomach, and hips, leaving hickeys as evidence of possession.

She took her time, putting her fingers inside me just as her lips touched my breast, nibbling and teasing till I trembled beneath her. Her name escaped my lips in a breathy gasp again and over, and she enjoyed it. Her other hand held my wrist down softly but strongly.

"I want everyone to see what's mine," she muttered against my skin before leaving another mark right over my heart. "I want them to know."

I was lost in her, every touch, every breath, every piece of her weight on mine. She did not simply touch me; she held me. It seemed as if she was connecting me to the world. Even with all that dominance, there was a lot of love behind it.

When I came, it was with her name on my tongue, her hands grounding me, her lips murmuring praise I couldn't even process.

She didn't stop there.

Afterwards, she kissed me softly, her hands stroking my face, her voice gentler than ever. "You okay, baby?"

I nodded, still trying to catch my breath. "You ruined me."

She grinned. "I plan to do it again. And again."

Lizzie was still catching her breath as I rolled on top of her, straddling her hips with a playful grin.

She looked up at me, confused. "Oh, you're not done?"

I bent down and kissed her softly, tongue brushing against hers, one hand creeping into her hair and the other trailing down her warm chest.

"Not even close," I said softly against her lips. "My turn."

Her lips curled into a wicked smile. "Then take it, baby."

I kissed down her throat.

Her skin tasted like salt and passion, like all the fire she'd poured into me, and now I was ready to return it all. My tongue reached the top of her breast, and I sucked softly before biting down just enough to make her hiss.

"Fuck, Y/N," she muttered, leaning into me. "You're getting cocky."

"You made me this way," I said, brushing my lips over her skin, lowering myself until I was kneeling between her legs.

She stared down at me, hair tangled around her pillow, lips puffy, cheeks flushed, and her eyes?

God, she looked destroyed, yet she was still so powerful. Even in surrender, she remained untouchable.

I pulled her thighs over my shoulders, kissed the inside of her knee, then the dip of her leg, and grinned as she snapped beneath me.

"You gonna be good for me?" I asked quietly.

"I'll be whatever you want," she said, her voice broken.

Lizzie's hand quickly reached the back of my head, fingers threading into my hair, as I kissed a stripe across her pussy

"Shit, Y/N. Yes. Exactly like that, baby."

I continued on, slowly at first, teasing her with the tip of my tongue, and watched her tear. Her hips rotated in quest of more, and I gave it to her flicking, sucking, and devouring her as if I were hungry. "Baby, you're really good at this," she sighed. "Fuck, you were made for me."

Her thighs gripped around my head as I murmured against her, sending vibrations through her core, causing her to cry out. She was panting now, rubbing against my mouth, and I didn't stop, not even when her moans became louder, she tugged my hair, or her back arched.

"You want to make me come, pretty girl?" she growled.

I gazed up at her, lips wet, and nodded. "Beg for it."

Lizzie's eyes brightened up. "Oh, fuck. Are you really going to make me?"

I smirked. "Yeah."

She let out a breathless laugh. "You don't realize how hot you are like this. Please, Baby. Please make me come."

That was all I needed.

I put two fingers into her, curving them perfectly while my tongue worked on her clit and the cry that exploded from her chest was filthy. Her body bucked, her feet pressed into my back, and she let out a low groan that rang throughout the room.

"Y/N. I'm, fuck, I'm coming!"

She cracked, yelling my name and writhing under me, her thighs tightening around my head like a vice. I didn't stop until she was exhausted, jerking, and gasping for air.

When I eventually crept back up her body, she looked beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed, her chest heaved, her hair tangled, and her red lips parted in the softest, sweetest grin.

She threw her arms around me and drew me into her.

I kissed her shoulder, then her neck. "You're mine."

"And you're mine," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "Every bit of you."

The first thing I noticed when I awoke was the silence.

The type of sweet, dreamy silence that only comes in the early morning. No cars, no texts, and no buzzing notifications. Just the warm weight of covers on my skin and the faint perfume of Lizzie on my pillow.

She was still sleeping next to me, her face buried in the blankets and one arm casually thrown across where I used to be. Her breathing was regular and quiet. Peaceful.

God, she was stunning like that.

I dropped a short kiss on her temple and slid out of bed as silently as possible, sliding one of her big t-shirts over my naked body. It covered my body, the sleeves almost reaching my elbows and touching the tops of my thighs like a dress. I grinned to myself, wondering why it felt so intimate to wear her clothing. I felt surrounded by her warmth even when she was sleeping.

Padding barefoot into the kitchen, I decided to be a nice girlfriend and prepare her breakfast. A small "thank you for last night" gesture. (And possibly: "I'm head over heels for you and can't stop thinking about how you kissed me like I was your whole world." )

When I added the eggs, the pan hissed, and I began looking around for coffee. It was busy but comfortable, me in her shirt, music playing gently from my phone on the counter, and dawn light streaming through the curtains.

Then I felt it: the familiar warmth.

Lizzie's chin settled on my shoulder as her arms wrapped around my waist from behind. She seemed warm and tired, her voice heavy and husky as she spoke.

"Mmm... Are you trying to kill me?"

I giggled and leaned back into her hug. "What?"

"You. In my shirt. Making breakfast. Looking like that." She nuzzled her cheek on my neck. "It is criminal. I should arrest you."

I grinned, putting down the spatula, and covered her hands with mine. "You're ridiculous."

"You love it."

"I do."

She hummed and gave me a delicate kiss just below my ear. "It smells nice. Are you attempting to tempt me into round two?"

I smirked as I glanced over my shoulder. "Would it work?"

Lizzie's eyes glittered, and sleep clung to her eyelids. "Baby, you are the reward."

We remained there for a bit, her arms wrapped around mine, our bodies swaying gently in time with the music. There is no haste, no world outside. It's just us.

"You know," she murmured softly, "this...this is everything."

I turned into her arms and wrapped mine around her neck. "What is?"

"This. Waking up with you. Seeing you in my kitchen. Wearing my clothes"

"Come back to bed," she whispered.

"But I'm cooking."

She nipped at my bottom lip. "Breakfast can wait."

And just like that, the eggs were forgotten...

#wlw #marvel #fluff #fanfic #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff #smut

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fratttymatty · 7 months ago

Text

Roots Changed

(All characters are 18+)

Ryan Thornton had always been the quiet, bookish kid. At 18, he was still the same shy, nerdy teenager who spent most of his time buried in science fiction novels, comic books, and the occasional video game. Ryan had come to terms with his place in life: an outsider in high school, an openly gay teen with few friends and even fewer social opportunities. His world was small but comfortable, a safe little bubble in the predominantly white suburb of San Diego where he’d lived his whole life.

But when his mom got a new job and the family moved across the city to a much more diverse, predominantly Latino neighborhood, Ryan didn’t know what to expect. The change was jarring. The new school was like nothing he’d known — crowded, full of energy, and with a culture that felt loud and foreign. The kids here were different, the language they spoke, the way they dressed, the confidence they carried — it was all so much more alive than what Ryan was used to.

In the first few days, Ryan stayed under the radar. He was determined to finish high school without any drama, just getting through the final year before heading to college. But that plan quickly unraveled when a group of the popular kids — the jocks and cheerleaders — took notice of him.

At first, he didn’t think much of it. He tried to keep his head down, but he couldn’t ignore the whispers in the halls, the way people looked at him — the way they sized him up. His pale skin, messy blond hair, awkward stance — all of it screamed “outsider.” It didn’t help that Ryan was the only openly gay kid in the school, and he often felt like an alien in the sea of confident, straight students.

One afternoon, during lunch, the inevitable happened. He was sitting alone at a table when Luis, the captain of the football team, and Sofia, the head cheerleader, approached him with their usual entourage. They towered over him, their presence intimidating, but Ryan couldn’t find the words to excuse himself.

Luis looked down at him, a smug grin on his face. “Hey, you’re the new guy, right?”

Ryan swallowed hard. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“You don’t really fit in here, huh?” Sofia’s voice wasn’t unkind, but it was sharp. She appraised him like a project. “You’re a little too... quiet for this place. Too nerdy.”

Ryan felt his face flush. He had been used to this kind of thing before, but not quite like this. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wanting to disappear.

Luis smirked. “Well, we can help with that. Make you more... like us.” He exchanged a quick glance with Sofia, who gave a small nod.

“I don’t really—” Ryan began to protest, but before he could finish his sentence, they grabbed him by the arms. He struggled, but the group was too strong. Their laughter was loud and mocking, echoing in his ears as they pulled him away from the lunch table, past the curious eyes of the other students, and out to the school parking lot.

“What the hell is going on?” Ryan managed to say, panic setting in as they shoved him into the back of a van.

“We’re gonna make you one of us, gringo,” Luis said, the edge to his voice unmistakable.

Ryan’s heart pounded as the van started moving. “What are you doing? Let me out of here!” But the more he shouted, the less anyone seemed to care. They ignored him, speaking in rapid Spanish, laughing, joking, as if they’d done this before.

The van came to a stop in a neighborhood unfamiliar to Ryan, and they led him into a house that felt more like a base of operations than a home. An older man with tattoos covering his arms stood waiting for them, his expression serious, as though this was just another job.

“Sit,” the man said, gesturing toward a chair in the middle of the room. “We’ve got work to do.”

Ryan’s heart raced in his chest, but he was powerless to fight back. They tied him down, but it wasn’t painful; it was more like they were preparing him for something. The man — who spoke little — went to work, using strange tools and substances on him, altering his appearance in ways that made Ryan’s head spin. His skin, once pale and freckled, slowly darkened, turning a rich olive tone. His features shifted subtly — his jawline more defined, his nose more pronounced. But it wasn’t just his skin that changed.

The most dramatic transformation happened to his hair. Ryan’s once-messy, light brown curls were smoothed out, darkening into a deep, glossy brown. They styled it into a perfectly straight, sharp middle part. It was perfect, almost too perfect. His hair, which had always been unruly, now lay in neat, controlled waves on either side of his head, framing his face in a way that made him look... different.

When the process was finished, they released him from the chair, and Ryan was led to a mirror. He barely recognized the person staring back at him. The face was familiar, but the features were sharper, darker. His hair — sleek and controlled — was no longer his own. The new, confident posture, the athletic build, the deep brown eyes looking back at him — it was like he was staring at someone else.

Luis stood behind him, clapping him on the back with a grin. “Welcome to the team, hermano,” he said, his voice low and proud.

Ryan — or whatever was left of him — looked at himself in the mirror. The old Ryan Thornton was gone, replaced by someone else. Someone new. Someone who looked like he could be a football player. Someone who looked like he belonged here, in this world.

Luis wasn’t finished. “You’re Mateo Hernandez now. We’re not calling you Ryan anymore. You’re one of us, hermano.”

Mateo Hernandez. The name felt strange at first, foreign even, but when he said it aloud, it felt right, like it had always been his. Mateo felt stronger, more confident. He felt like someone who had a place in the world — a world where people like him didn’t get pushed around, a world where his old self didn’t matter.

Over the next few days, Mateo settled into his new life with surprising ease. His old identity, his old life as Ryan Thornton, began to fade. The change was too thorough. The way he spoke was different now. His accent was smoother, more natural, the slang coming to him effortlessly. His new friends, the jocks, the cheerleaders, they accepted him without hesitation. He was one of them now, and they treated him like family.

It didn’t take long before Mateo found himself walking the halls of his new high school with the same confident swagger as Luis or any of the other jocks. He laughed, joked, and participated in everything — the football games, the parties, the casual flirting with the girls in his classes. It all felt so easy, so right. The old Mateo, the quiet, awkward kid who once spent his days hiding in the library, was gone.

Mateo Hernandez was a high school jock. He was strong, he was popular, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like he was pretending. He was who he was supposed to be.

And as for Ryan Thornton?

Well, Mateo didn’t even remember who that was anymore.

Mateo Hernandez had found his place. And he wouldn’t change it for anything.

#male tf #male tf story #gay to straight #nerd to jock #smart to dumb #gym bro tf #latino tf #race change

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samkerrworshipper · 2 years ago

Text

playgirl | Leah Williamson x Reader

warnings: smut, fingering, cunnilingus, fluffy soft smut 18 + minors dni

lots of angst, smut, hurt, fluff it’s a mixed bag lol

lots of people who are wanting to see some sammy k smut so lmk if you want to see anything specific xoxo and enjoy my lovely’s!

It was no secret that Leah Williamson got her way around. No secret to her teammates, no secret to the soccer community, no secret to all of the women in North London, no secret to you. Somehow though, for some reason it had drawn her to you, you were teammates for fucks sakes, you being on loan from San Diego and her being a accommodating captain who had offered a spare room in her house to you, whilst you figured out your bearings and in what world were you in the place to say no. From day one you had been infatuated with the woman, something that Alex Morgan had warned you of, having gotten word from Tobin that Leah liked to have fun, sometimes too much fun. Your first impression of Leah was that she was lovely, accompanying the Arsenal team to pick you up from the airport and everything. Her eyes were what truly had you enamoured with her, the way that the greyish-blue pierced through anything that she looked at.

Once you’d gotten back to her house she’d showed you around, informed you that whilst she tried her hardest to cook she wasn’t very good at it, and that she went to a teammates house most nights to eat. You’d told her that cooking was no issue, that because of your italian heritage you’d grown up in the kitchen, learning your Nona’s tricks from when you could walk. Leah was elated by that news, insisting that once you’d settled in you’d have to cook for her and you’d smiled at her and agreed. Leah had been nothing but accommodating and for a little while you’d found doubt in Alex’s words, that was until a few weeks into your stay with Leah you went out on a Saturday night with the team. It had started tame, a dinner out together as team bonding, which had ended in Katie deciding on which night club for the team to hit and from then it had gotten rowdy.

The London girls were very clearly decorated partiers, you however weren’t. You hardly drank to begin with, so whilst your teammates were busy with getting wasted on their weekend off, you were not, leaving you to observe the actions of your new teammates. Leah lasted a total of fifteen minutes in the club, something that most of the girls didn’t seem to be surprised by. Fifteen minutes in she was pulling a girl from the bar out of the club with her, both of their hands roaming in places that were not acceptable for a public space. It hadn’t taken you long to realise that the night was going to end similarly for most of the girls you were with, either them picking up somebody or heading home with their partner. Alessia was hellbent on getting you drunk, something you were not a fan of, but her being one of the only girls not on the dance floor or throwing themselves all over someone meant that you’d quickly paired up, also being the newer pair to the crowd. Eventually, you got sick of Alessia’s persistent begging for you to take a shot with her, pawning her off to Katie and then calling an uber for yourself back to Leah’s apartment.

When you made it through the door of the house you were unsurprised to hear the sound of moans filling the noise barrier, coming from upstairs. Just from the sound of the illicit moans you figured out that whoever Leah had brought home with her, was very drunk and that she wouldn’t last very long. With that thought you went about my normal nighttime routine that you’d fallen into during your time in England, by the time you’d gotten through it and fallen into bed the incessant sound coming from the room next to yours seemed to have ceased.

You got up at your normal time the following morning, ignoring the small headache you had from the combination of the glass of whiskey you’d had at dinner the night before and the lack of sleep you’d gotten. Climbing down the stairs in your pyjamas and with a mess of curls that you couldn’t really be bothered with taming this early in the morning and making a beeline straight to the coffee machine. It was when you were about halfway through your first cup of coffee for the day and second slice of toast that you heard the ruckus from upstairs, that you’d patiently been waiting for. You kept your eyes on the papers that youd had been trying to read, yesterdays copy that Leah had gotten from the shops on her way home from training. As much as Leah had tried to interest you in her beloved news, you had no interest. You waited about another minute before you were rewarded with the sound of two sets of pattering feet coming down the staircase.

“Was I seriously such a bad lay you can’t remember my name?”

Ten seconds later you were blessed with the sight of the girl that Leah had brought home from the night before, making her way down the stairs, half dressed and trying to tug her dress that left hardly anything to the imagination and struggling to pull her shoes on whilst Leah tried to grab for her.

“Lina, fuck, Lila, I’m sorry, you were great.”

The girl stopped at the foot of the stairs, glaring up at Leah. It was like watching a sitcom, except this was real life and it was all unravelling horrifically in front of your eyes.

“My fucking name is Lisa, if you gave to shits you’d know that. Fucking athletes.”

The girl turned back around, batting away at Leah’s hands that were trying to grab for her wrists. The girl made it to the front door, bringing her middle finger up towards Leah and slamming the front door behind her.

Leah stayed paused in front of the door for a few seconds before muttering,

“Good morning and good fucking riddance.”

She trudged her way into the kitchen, walking straight to the kettle and starting it, one of the things you’d learnt about Leah whilst staying with her was that the woman was hardly functional without her morning coffee and you couldn’t expect her to get anything done without her having consumed her beloved caffeine.

“Is that how all of your one night stands end?”

There was cheek in your voice, something you weren’t apologetic for but a little bit scared of, this was uncharted territory for you and Leah. You had heard her have girls over, she kept it fairly quiet though, sneaking them in well after you were supposed to be asleep and sneaking them out in the middle of the night or waiting for you to go on your morning run before disposing of them.

“Not normally, no.”

Leah’s voice held a little bit of humour, but mainly shock, her body language still reflecting her complete disbelief over what had just happened.

“Who would have thought, the mighty Leah Williamson being humbled so early in the morning. Forgetting her name? That’s amateur shit.”

Leah looked up at you, her eyes hooded with disapproval of your words but also not outright denying your words.

“We were both so drunk, I’m not even certain she gave me her name. She was a good lay but god was she whiny, glad she’s gone.”

Leah finished preparing her coffee and sat down in the seat beside you at the kitchen table. Tugging the paper she knew you had no interest in reading over to her side of the table so she could actually read it.

“How do you know that she wasn’t just whiny because you were a shit lay.”

You didn’t even know where that cockiness had come from, you bit your lip as your far older, and scarier teammate looked up from her paper at you, a little bit of a smirk playing across her face.

“Trust me honey, I’m not the problem and half of London could confirm that.”

You rolled your eyes at Leah, taking another bite of your toast and watching her very quickly become infatuated with whatever she’d stumbled upon in the papers. You took a sip of your coffee before saying anything, letting her words sit in the room and mellow out.

“Doesn’t count if you are fucking them all when their drunk, intoxication increases the amount of endorphins your brain is producing Williamson, so science says that even if you are a good lay, half of what those girls are feeling is the alcohol.”

Leah didn’t look up from her paper, but smirked as soon as the words left your mouth, giving you enough of an indication that she’d heard your words. She finished her page, taking her time reading over the words whilst you sipped dutifully from your mug. When she finished her page she flipped over to the next one, but looked up at you, her head cocked just a little bit.

“Baby, trust me, alcohol or not I’m the best lay any of those girls have had, there’s a reason why my phone is always buzzing.”

It was something that you’d noticed in your weeks at Leah’s house, whether you were sitting on the couch watching a movie together or eating dinner, her phone was always vibrating and she was always staring down at it, typing furiously like a six year old and any time you tried to ask her about it she always brushed you off.

“Is that not just because you go for the straight ones though?”

Leah choked on the sip of her coffee that she’d taken during the brief break of time between her previous words and your rebuttal. She swallowed her coffee before letting out a chesty laugh, there was condescension in it though, something unknown hidden behind it.

“Straight or not they’re all screaming my name honey.”

Leah’s voice held so much confidence, it was entertaining. Listening to her talk herself up so much, you couldn’t help but try and take her down a peg or two.

“Yeah screaming your name on the way out the door when you forget their name.”

You finished your breakfast, standing up and taking your dishes to the sink and washing them off, not taking your eyes off of Leah for a second, even whilst you stacked your dishes in the dishwasher.

“Sweetheart, I’m telling you right now, that if you got lucky enough to have me, then you’d be screaming my name all the same.”

You rolled your eyes at Leah, staying composed in front of the woman.

“So cocky Williamson, the self obsession really must be getting to your head.”

You sat yourself on the kitchen counter, watching as Leah washed her own dishes and loaded them up next to yours before turning to look at you. Normally Leah had a significant height advantage over you, but with the height of the counter you were sitting on you were set face-to-face with her.

“It’s not cockiness sweetheart, it’s self awareness. I’m a good lay, I’ve been told it many times by many different women, sober and not sober. You don’t have to hide behind the jealousy, you wanna go don’t you? Can’t really blame ya, everyone wants a bite.”

You rolled your eyes effortlessly at Leah, trying your very hardest to obtain all of the composure you’d held. You shoved her playfully on the shoulder, more as a warning than anything, because if she stayed in your personal space bubble much longe4 then you weren’t sure if you’d be able to uphold your facade anymore.

“It’s cute that you think I’m into you, considering you don’t even know who or what I’m into.”

Leah smirked at you, licking her lips as she reentered your personal space bubble, practically confining you to your spot on the counter, her hands placed on either side of your body, gripping onto the counter and looking at you with a little sparkle in her eyes.

“Tobs told me that you dated Sonnett, so I know that you aren’t straight and she told me that you're single, so that ticks those boxes. You dated Sonny, which means you have a thing for attractive blondes with a personality, I think I tick those boxes.”

You rolled your lips between your teeth before biting down on the bottom one, mainly for show more than anything.

“Bold of you to assume that you have a personality and you're attractive. It’s cute that you think you’ve got a shot.”

Leah smirked, toying her tongue between her teeth and rolling it between her lips.

“Don’t I?”

You knew where this was going, and it wasn’t that you weren’t interested, because you definitely were. But you also knew Leah’s reputation. She didn’t do relationships, she was a casual sex person and there was nothing wrong with that, but you weren’t interested in that. You also knew she was riding on her own endorphin high now, a mixture of post sex haze and hangover that you couldn’t trust.

“Baby, I’m not interested in casual sex, something Tobin should have told you. I liked Sonny, but she was a casual sex girl and I’m not doing that again, so you can have your fun with your walk of shame girls and I’ll have my fun, okay?”

You were mocking her a little bit, giving her a fake pout that she was clearly offended by. You hoisted yourself off of the bench before she could say much more, bounding towards the stairs and running back to your room to throw on my training gear.

The topic wasn’t brought up for a few more weeks, you let Leah bring her girls into the house at whatever time she pleased and Leah did her best to ignore the yearning that had developed in her gut for you.

It was all fine, all going well until you’d managed to get yourself injured. You’d had a really good run, becoming a starter on the team and scoring a few goals in some important games. Until a Chelsea player had taken your ankles out from under you and done some ligament damage, it wasn’t anything major, a few weeks at most, but you’d been recommended to wear a boot for the first few weeks, just to make sure you weren’t putting any unnecessary pressure on your foot. You hadn’t minded to begin with, but in a very short amount of time you became very frustrated, with the boot, with not playing soccer, with being sidelined without a definitive time to when you’d be back. You very quickly went from being the bubbly, happy teammate to being someone that the girls had to walk on eggshells around. Everyone took notice of your sudden mood change, but it was clear none of them knew exactly how to tackle it, none of them knew you all that well considering you were new to the club, besides Leah.

She’d tried approaching you a few times, at training, in the rehab centre, at home. Yet every single time you’d shut her down with some kind of false sarcasm, a laugh and the insistence you were fine. She was getting sick of it, getting sick of having to watch you repetitively deny help from anyone. Your attitude towards yourself and other people was shit and she could tell it was really affecting you.

She’d just gotten back from training one night, you’d opted out considering that you had done your rehab in the morning, using the excuse that you wanted to talk to some of your US teammates on a organised skype call. When Leah had gotten home the house was silent, something that she’d come to find abnormal since you’d moved in. There was always some background noise, the sound of the tv, or your music filling the house. Yet, when she walked through the door, slinging her bag onto one of the hooks near the door, she heard absolutely nothing.

She tiptoed through into the kitchen, her eyes searching the communal space before locating you. You were sitting on the sofa, looking down at your laptop, completely and utterly absorbed by whatever you were looking at and either purposely ignoring Leah or too enraptured by whatever was on your scream to have noticed her.

“Y/n.”

Leah’s words were enough to break you from your daze and when you turned to look at her Leah recognised the red rims that were painted along your waterline and the semi dried tear tracks on your face.

“Sorry, fuck, I was supposed to sort out dinner, give me a second and I’ll get it started.”

You were reaching for your crutches almost immediately, time having slipped away from you in Leah’s absence, Leah’s words stopped you though.

“No, don’t worry about it, we’ll order in, just stay sitting.”

Leah smiled at you, walking over towards the couch and picking up your crutches from your hands and placing them down on the floor, before sitting down on the couch beside you. She left enough space that you weren’t physically touching but stayed close enough that you could feel her presence.

“Is everything alright, Y/n?”

It was uncharted territory between the two of you, Leah had seen you upset, she’d been the one who’d had to drive the two of you home after doing your ankle and it hadn’t been pretty. But you’d never allowed her in, never allowed her to see you emotionally vulnerable besides that, and even when you’d done your ankle you’d tried your hardest to keep your composure, until you were lying in your bed that night by yourself and you let it all out. Leah could hear your sobs from the other side of the wall, just as you could hear the sound of the moans of whatever woman she’d booty called that night to help her deal with the itch in her body that came every time she had to watch her team take the pitch without her.

“Alex called, San Diego is trading me, so when my loan is over I’m going straight to Angel City. They said that they weren’t prepared to deal with ankle problems, that it’s for the best and that when the official trade period comes I’ll be gone. Angel City is going to honour my loan, until the season ends and then I have to go back home but I won’t even be going back home.”

Leah did her best to remember the basic American geography she’d learnt in highschool, trying to map out the two points on a map.

“Angel City’s based in Los Angeles isn’t it? You won’t be that far away, it’ll be a two hour drive.”

Leah’s voice fell on deaf ears, you were too busy biting down on your lip to even think about what she was saying. Because yes, technically she was right, it wasn’t like you were being traded to the other side of the country, but you’d been playing for San Diego for the whole of your senior career, it was your home, and they were just pawning you off like any other player.

“Plus, aren’t Christen, Ali and Alyssa at Angel City?”

You could feel more tears stemming in your eyes, you looked up in an attempt to conceal them, not wanting to embarrass yourself any further in front of your captain.

“Leah, you don’t get it. How would you feel if Arsenal had traded you when you’d done your ACL? San Diego has had me since I was 16. If I am going home I don’t want to go home to anywhere but there, I don’t want to have to play anywhere other than San Diego, the wave is my home, Alex is my fucking home and they are just turning me away because I’ve had some ankle problems. So what’s the point in me even putting the effort into fucking doing this recovery if even when I do it I’m going home to nothing.”

You’d left Leah a little bit speechless. She thought about it, thought deeply about putting herself in your shoes, something she’d never really done and she got what you were saying.

“So don’t go home, stay here.”

Your eyes looked at Leah, filled with something she couldn’t even try to pin down.

“Because Arsenal is really interested in having to deal with bidding for me and taking my contract. They probably want me even less than fucking San Diego does right now.”

Leah was a little bit shocked by the amount of aggression behind your words, never having seen this side of you, it hurt her heart a little bit.

“Turn around.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at Leah’s random request.

“Excuse me?”

“Turn around, back facing my chest.”

It took you a few seconds to realise she was completely serious, and hell, what did you have to lose at this stage? You did as she’d asked and jolted slightly as her hands found their way to your shoulders, starting to very gently massage into the tense skin across your back. Leah was shocked to feel the sheer amount of tension that must have built up over the past few weeks across your shoulders, clearly you’d been pushing down your feelings for a little bit too long.

“Arsenal loves you, the whole team loves you, if you wanted to stay you’d be very welcome. Ankle injury or not, if the Wave valued you, they wouldn’t have traded you, so I know it sucks but if they really valued you as a player they would keep you, they clearly don’t and you deserve better than that.”

It was unnerving to you how good Leah’s hands felt, rubbing gently across your back, slowly diffusing the mounds of knots that had developed across the surface of your back and shoulders.

“Do they teach you how to massage in adultery school?”

It was a weak joke that had Leah snickering just a little bit.

“Y’know that I’m not the heartless playgirl that everyone paints me out to be. I like sex, sure. But that doesn’t mean I’m not a human with functioning feelings, I still care for people, I care for you.”

Her words made you feel a little bit guilty, because you had kind of pictured her that way in your head, the woman had a girl in her bed almost every night. You couldn’t help but hear the vulnerability and honesty in her words though and you wanted to believe her words, or you wanted her to explain her words to you.

“Your hands feel good, really good.”

You could feel Leah smirking from her spot behind you on the couch.

“They’re good for more than massages.”

Her words were murmured, meant for you, not that there was anyone else in the room to hear them. At her words you were turning yourself on the couch, so you were face to face with the blonde. She was staring back at you with hooded eyes and a faint smirk on her eyes. Maybe if you hadn't been so emotional you wouldn’t have felt your breath catch in your chest as you took her in. Maybe if she hadn't been smirking at you in the ‘I dare you’ way, you wouldn’t have leant in. Maybe if she’d never gotten the opportunity to put her hands on you in the first place she never would have gotten so greedy as to have them back on you. Maybe if none of it had happened you both wouldn’t have leant in to kiss, or maybe it still would have happened.

The kiss was sweet, soft and tender. Leah pulled me gently into her lap, pulling me up and over so you were straddling her hips, giving you a little bit of leverage in the kiss.

“We can’t turn back once we do this, are you sure you want to?”

Leah’s words were murmured against your lips, as she took a little break to get her point across.

“We’ll figure it out afterwards, I just need to feel something, I need to feel loved.”

Leah’s forehead nodded against your own.

“Hold on.”

You didn’t have enough time to comprehend her words before she was hoisting you both up off the couch and towards the stairs.

“Leah, your knee.”

You murmured the words into her neck as you approached the steps, you didn’t want her to put you down but you also didn’t want her to hurt herself.

“It’s fine, I’m back in a few weeks anyways, it’s back to normal now.”

You were surprised when, with much ease Leah managed to get the both of you up the stairs without much struggle, her beelining directly towards her room. She very quickly sat the two of you down on her bed, resuming the kiss you had both previously been occupied with. Her lips were soft, everything about how she was treating you was so uncharacteristically gentle for you and you loved it, loved how she was accommodating you.

“Lee.”

Your words had Leah’s eyes cracking open quickly, a little bit of fear painted across her clear blue eyes.

“Yes, sweet?”

Her voice was so kind, practically dripping with tenderness.

“Need you to touch me, please.”

Leah smiled against my lips.

“Mm, where do you need me?”

Normally, you probably would have felt self conscious having to admit something like that, but with Leah everything felt different, you just didn’t feel the normal insecurity that came from sex.

“Fuck, pussy, please.”

Leah smirked again against your lips.

“Because you asked so nicely.”

Leah’s hands travelled down to the waistband of your sweatpants, tugging down under your ass, and once you’d hoisted yourself up, down and your right foot with ease. The left one was a little bit harder, with the moon boot and just as she’d been about to undo the velcro to remove the boot completely you stopped her.

“Just leave it, please, I just need you.”

Leah was smirking wildly at request, forgetting your sweatpant leg and letting her hand trail back up to the edge of your panties, a black lace thong that was one of your favourites. Your arms find their way over Leah’s shoulders, tangling at the back of her neck as her lips attach to your neck in synchronised harmony with her fingers finally making contact with your heat. You moan shamelessly as Leah brushed your panties to the side and works her fingers in and out of your wetness, her thumb finding its way to your clit and one of her fingers making its way down to the source of your wetness.

“So wet baby, all for me?”

Leah’s words vibrated against the skin of your neck, a place that she had busied herself with littering little marks along, trying to figure out which spot got the most sinful noises to leave your mouth.

“Fuck, yes.”

Leah smirked a little bit more, absolutely drunk off of the feeling that she had you in her arms, not some random girl that she didn’t care about.

“Mm, you feel so good sweet, can I finger your precious hole, is that something you want?”

She was hiding the question of consent in her words, something that was a major requirement for Leah, she might have been a bit of a nymphomaniac but that didn’t mean she didn’t have rules for herself, one of them was to always ask for consent.

“Fuck, please Leah, please.”

Your moans and pleads were enough consent for Leah, allowing her to very gently work one of her fingers into your pussy, slowly working in each knuckle. You were desperate though, pushing yourself down against her finger, aching for more.

“Leah.”

The word was murmured out between moans as Leah found your pulse point and bit down on it, soothing the bite with her saliva and gentle licks.

“Yes, pretty girl?”

Leah had quickly realised that you liked praise, and whatever little nicknames that she could form off the top of her head.

“More, please, harder.”

Leah bit her lip at your words, it took every bit of self control she had not to cum right there on the spot.

“So desperate baby girl, you're doing so well for me aren’t you, I think I can give you some more.”

Leah, slid another one of her fingers into your hole, when she felt no resistance she started to very gently move her fingers in and out of you, searching for that certain spot and when she had located it, gently curling her fingers against it. The sounds that left your mouth were hellish enough for even the devil to find them sinful. Leah resonated in it, bathed in the sound of your pleasure as she continued her assault of your neck.

When she could feel you beginning to clench against her fingers she placed the pad of her thumb against your clit, pushing the hood of it back to give her full access to the sensitive nub.

“Le-Leah, fuck, fuck, I’m so close.”

Leah nodded into your neck, gently brushing her finger against your spot and pumping her fingers just a little bit harder into you, elated at the way your hips met her fingers on every single thrust, your juices dripping all over Leah’s sweatpants.

“Cum whenever you're ready sweetheart, go ahead.”

It didn’t take you long, a few more swipes from Leah’s finger against your clit before you were catapulting over the edge of pleasure. Leah felt you clench tightly around her fingers and when she did he gently laid your body down against her pillows, withdrawing her fingers but replacing them with her mouth, pressing her tongue gently to your hole and coaxing you through the shakes and spasms. When you finally did come down you tried pushing Leah’s head away, frightfully aware of how sensitive you had become, but Leah continued her ministrations.

“Lee, fuck.”

You could feel your body arching up against the sheets once again, your arousal already building up again as Leah very gently laid her tongue out against your pussy. She pushed her hand up to your mouth.

“Suck.”

You obeyed her, letting her push the two fingers into your mouth and being blessed with the taste of your own pleasure against your tongue. You sucked Leah’s fingers dry as she continued to suck and lick her way across your pussy, like she was a starved woman.

“One more pretty girl, give me one more.”

Her wish was your command. You relaxed against the pillows, allowing yourself to feel every single little detail of what she was doing. You were a goner as soon as she started to suck on your clit, it was over sensitive from the previous orgasm and it didn’t take you very long to build back up to the edge again.

“Leah, fuck, Leah.”

Leah seemed to understand what you were saying, without you saying it.

“Come pretty girl, I’m here, I’ve got you, I’m here, you're safe.”

Another suck to your clit and you were done. Leah very gently lapped up your juices whilst you came down shakily from your high. Once she’d lapped it all up she clawed her way up to you, meeting you in another soft kiss, her tongue invading your mouth and giving you another taste of yourself. She collapsed down on the pillows beside you, one of her arms coming to rest around your torso as she tugged her own sweatpants off, which were now soaked in your juices.

You were spent, splayed across her pillows and Leah was certain she’d never seen a more perfect sight.

When she got up to go and fetch some supplies you groaned.

“Don’t leave me.”

Leah smiled sadly at your response, it was clear that you had been feeling alone for a while now, and now that she knew it she wasn’t going to let you feel that way, ever again.

“I’m not leaving sweet, I’m just going to fetch a few things, I’ll be back in a minute, I promise.”

She finished her statement by pressing a gentle kiss to your hairline, before getting up from the bed and making her way down her stairs, as fast as she could whilst staying at a safe pace.

When she returned to her bedroom you were in the exact same position, orgasm drunk, splayed across her sheets. She’d managed to retrieve your crutches, two glasses of water, a granola bar and a warm face cloth. You groaned as she got you to sit up against the pillows, she didn’t want to disturb you but she also knew there were some things that had to do, just to make sure that you felt better.

“C’mon sweet girl, take some sips of the water for me.”

You rolled your eyes at Leah, her fussing over you was something you hadn’t expected. She has tasked herself with the job of undoing your boot, removing your sweatpants and replacing them with a pair of her sleep shorts.

“More than that, the whole glass, please, and the granola bar.”

You rolled your eyes at her, you’d very discreetly tried to put the glass back down on your bedside table after taking two measly sips but Leah didn’t seem to be having a bar of it.

“Who would’ve known Leah Williamson would be such a mother hen.”

Leah looked at you, completely dead pan.

“I take aftercare very seriously, if you don’t feel safe or well then I would want you to tell me, I know what we just did wasn’t exactly intense but sex should always feel good, and if it didn’t I’d want to know.”

There was so much care in Leah’s words, and even if she was only a few years older than you, you suddenly felt like the age gap was so much bigger than that.

“Leah, I feel safe and good, you were perfect.”

She nodded, seemingly happy with your answer and returning to her task. She was so gentle with your ankle when she finally did undo the velcro, gently lifting it up and the sweatpants off of it before strapping it back into the boot and gently lifting a pair of her shorts over your ass. It was perfect and nothing that you’d imagined with Leah, you’d imagined her being cocky and showy, everything about her. But in this moment she was so vulnerable, so tender and warm and it made you feel so guilty for ever thinking anything else of her.

After she’d watched you consume the water and granola she’d seemed to become a little bit more at ease, changing quickly into a pair of sleep shorts and taking off her hoodie, substituting it for just a sports bra, so she was matching with me. After she was done getting dressed she slipped into the sheets beside you, one of her arms finding its way around your bare torso immediately, the skin on skin contact sending shivers up your spine.

“You are so loved y/n/n, here or back at home, there are so many people around that would do anything for you.”

Leah’s words were murmured into your ear as she threaded her fingers into your hair, tugging lightly on the hairs at the nape of your neck.

“M’ sorry that you didn’t get anything in return.”

Leah shushed you as soon as the words left your mouth.

“Hush, I don’t need anything, knowing that you felt good is all I need.”

There was so much sincerity in her words that it made you crumble just a little bit.

“You're not a heartless playgirl bitch and I’m sorry if I ever made you think that I thought of you that way. You are fucking perfect and just as good as you had said.”

Leah laughed a little bit from her spot behind you, the warmth of her breath against your neck making the hairs along your body stand up.

“I’m not too bad, huh?”

You flipped over in the bed, so you were face to face with her.

“I don’t want to be one of your one night stands who’s name you forget.”

Leah rolled her eyes, but when she realised the genuinity behind your words her eyes softened.

“Good, because I don’t want that either, y/n Williamson sounds pretty good, if you ask me.”

You snorted effortlessly at her.

“Wow a proposal on night one, do you do that to all of your bedmates to charm them, Williamson?”

Leah smirked, pressing her lips to your own.

“No, I think you’d have to be the first, what did you say about endorphins again, they must be getting to my head or something.”

You leaned in to stop her stupid babbling, pressing your lips to hers to silence her.

“I’ll never forget your name and I’m never letting you feel alone again, I promise.”

You smiled against her lips, so tied up in the serenity you were feeling, the peace away from everything that was going on in your life.

“I could never feel alone when I’m with you Leah Williamson.”

#woso #woso community #leah williamson #marry me rn #arsenal wfc #leah williamson is mom #leah williamson is mother #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson is boyf #leah williamson imagine

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n3ptoonz · 20 days ago

Text

'Pretty Little Bird'

Pairing: Sam Wilson/F!Reader

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Warnings/tags: Smut; Explicit, POST TFATWS-PRE CA:BNW, reader is in the air force, flirty Sam 🙂‍↔️ car sx, riding, use of titles, he calls you "little bird", half proofread; apologies if there's typos or edits i didn't make

this is for all seven sam fans let's goooo 💋

Word count: 2.7k+

Your presence demanded respect everywhere you went on and off base. It wasn't easy climbing the ranks, it never is, but hard is the last word you'd use. Luckily your intelligence wasn't questioned too much, but that didn't mean the occasional big headed douchebag wouldn't play devil's advocate at the worst possible moment. You also got lucky to meet one of your closest and long time friends, Sam Wilson.

Sam didn't play about you. He was well aware you could kick ass and take names but it came naturally to him. Having a sister and generally being a family man made it all the easier to stand at your side and hype you up any and all the time.

You'd just been transferred from San Diego last week and finished filling out some paperwork, talking with someone in your unit when you heard a voice call out from all the way down the hall.

"I know that ain't little bird!" echoed off the walls and made you both look in that direction. The sigh that left you caused the guy to chuckle before walking off in the other direction. You turned to the only man in the world that calls you that. The only one that's allowed to call you that, to which you haven't heard since 2013.

You watched him walk over excitedly with a big grin on his face, giving him a playful roll of the eyes.

"That's Lieutenant General to you." you corrected. His eyes went wide as he stopped in front of you.

"No shit!" he said, "Okay, three stars. Last I heard you were still Major Pain!" he laughed aloud and went in for a hug but stopped himself to stand at attention and salute theatrically. "I request permission from the Lieutenant General to engage in physical contact between two long time fr-"

"Just shut up and hug me." you huffed and wrapped your arms around him. He returned the hug and patted your back with a light squeeze.

"You look great," he said as he backed up to give you a once over. "For a little bird." he teased, and this time you sighed heavily.

"I told you to stop calling me that a long time ago."

"I know, I know but I can't help it. You just...you remind me of a little bird, I don't know what else to tell you." he said. "And I can't let your head get too big. Next thing I know you'll be ordering me to buy you lunch."

"That's rich coming from Captain America himself. And it's too late. My head's already big." you shrugged and started down the hall. Sam chuckled to himself and followed behind. He wasn't joking when he said you looked great. Even prettier than when he last saw you. Even tougher. Even cooler. And you wore that camo well.

Too well. And you smelled good.

"So you saw the news." he said, knowing good and well the whole world did.

"Every living organism on planet Earth knows who you are, Wilson. The man of the people graces us with his assistance on this fine day."

"Alright, first of all, don't be mad at me just cause I can fly, General." he nudged your shoulder, earning a smile you've been trying to bite back since you laid eyes on him. "Second of all, I should be saying that to you. Miss Lieutenant General graces the east coast with her commanding presence and stern, yet captivating eyes."

You let out a short laugh and shake your head at his last comment. "Flattery gets you nowhere." you quipped and stopped at the end of the hall with your arms crossed.

It was like the early days when he'd "jokingly" flirt with you every chance he got. Well, once he was sure you wouldn't whoop his ass for doing so. Sam thoroughly enjoyed the banter between you two since day one and it would never get old. For either one of you. And don't forget that subtle sway in your hips whenever you walked away from him for making a stupid joke. He almost started saying stupid things just to see it.

"Not even a night of catching up at that totally affordable local bar a half hour out from base at the end of the day?" he asked with another growing smile as he nudged you again. "Come on! When's the last time we got to hang out in our civvies? Together? Just us??"

"Okay, okay. You win, I'll go. You're paying though. Consider it a fee for interrupting me earlier."

Sam nodded and rubbed his chin, feigning consideration before pointing at you. "Deal."

The two of you met up after, dressed in your casual attire and ready for an evening of fun. You wore a jacket over a plain fitted shirt because of D.C's supposed unpredictable weather, but the front was kind of a V neck--slightly dipping below your cleavage. Sam whistled as he approached, a hearty genuine laugh coming from him.

"A woman that can rock fatigues just as much as she can rock civvies is a special one." he said with a wink before walking over to his truck and opening the passenger door. "M'lady General," he muttered but knew you heard him. The door closed before you could respond so you just grumbled half-seriously while watching him get into the drivers seat.

"Never change, Sam." you said and leaned on the window after putting on your seatbelt. When the truck turned on he smiled at you as he did the same.

"First names and we're not even off base yet. Somebody's having fun already."

"If it'll get you to cut out the 'General' bit early, I'll get ahead while I still can." you glanced at him with an unserious glare. He only shrugged as he pulled out of the lot.

"Maybe."

Sam played all the classics on the way there and you sung your heart out the most. The second you entered the bar it was lively with people and flashy lights. The place wasn't huge but cozy enough and luckily there weren't any other airmen hanging out to see what you're like when you aren't barking orders.

"Up for some billiards?" he leaned down to ask over the music bumping nearby. He had a slight smirk on his face as he waited for you to answer, that familiar grin returning when you glance at him with a raised brow.

"I'm a little rusty." you replied but looked around for a free pool table. When you spot one you start heading over to it. "But I never back down from a friendly game." you continued, handing him a pool stick before getting one for yourself.

"Ladies first," he mused and leaned on the table. You set them in the middle and just hoped you'd get solids, eyeing the cue ball as you leaned over. Sam watched you with intent from the moment, but also genuine admiration. You never failed to be at least a little serious about everything you did. Even a silly game of hitting balls with a stick.

You watched them splay across the green velvet, specifically an orange solid one bouncing around before slowly, but surely dropping in the pocket. You pumped your fist and kept your eyes on the display while determining your next move.

"It's only natural Captain America gets stripes," you said with a quick glance at him over your shoulder before bending over again to line up your shot. Sam rolled his eyes and moved out of your way.

"Corniest thing you've said in a long time." he said.

"You can't be serious!" Sam exclaimed as he watched your last solid fall into the pocket. He stared at his three striped balls in impossible positions in complete disbelief. "I thought you said you weren't good at this game."

You brushed past behind him, placing your hand on his shoulder and whispering in his ear. "I said I was rusty."

He shot a glare and huffed while you lined up your final shot for the 8 ball.

"10 bucks you don't make this next shot." he chimes, causing you to glance at him. "10 bucks and five shots says I do." you said. Sam nods with a smirk.

"You're on, lil bird. Prepare to be down like thirty bucks."

You hit the ball to the northwest pocket from where you stood, which was the best you could do. It wasn't a straight shot. Albeit a little bit of an awkward position, there was a chance at least with the force you used. The 8 ball rolled all the way up to it like with that solid orange ball. Just your luck..it stopped right at the pocket. You groaned loudly and facepalmed while Sam cheered and clapped like it was a football game. You could feel his arm drape over your shoulder, just picturing that stupid smug grin on his face.

"I really hope you like Bourbon."

You shrugged him off and gestured for him to take his turn. You weren't actually upset, more upset at the effect his cologne had on your senses. The way his smile lit up the room yet only being flashed at you. Though, before he could make another comment, a song that activates Sam started playing. He gave you that look. That 'you know what we have to do' look. He put down his stick and started lip syncing and dancing towards you.

"No- Sam," you laughed as he already had your hand in his because he knew you loved this song too just as much as he did.

And he was right.

You danced and sung along like nobody was around. Taking turns with different parts and all up on each other like nobody's business. When the song ended you quickly got off the dance floor and navigated through the crowd to the bar, only panting just a little bit.

You sat next to each other and he ordered 5 shots. When you were about to hand him a 10 dollar bill from your pocket he declined immediately. You looked at him funny and held the 10 up.

"I lost the bet." you said.

"And I said I would pay earlier." he responded and closed the bill in your fist.

"Don't," he added, seeing you were going to protest. "I just wanted to mess around with you. You can pay me back another time."

You watched Sam pay for the shots and give a polite nod to the bartender as he pushed them between you two. With a soft sigh you turned in your stool to face him and see just what the gentleman that is Sam Wilson had planned now.

"We're gonna play a game," he said. His gaze just barely glided past your chest before your eyes met. He leaned on the bar with his elbow before continuing.

"2 truths 1 lie. You down?"

"Hell yeah. Where do the shots come in?" you asked while sliding your sleeves up your forearms.

"Simple: If you guess the lie wrong you gotta take a shot. If the other guesses your lie right, you have to take a shot. I'll go first." he cleared his throat and thought for a moment before looking at you again and counting on his fingers.

"One time I walked in on Joaquin trying on the Cap suit, I have three nephews, and I can hold my breath under water for almost a minute." he said. You narrowed your eyes and hummed.

"You have two nephews. Cass and Aj." you said confidently.

"Damn, girl. When did I even tell you that?" he asked as he took a shot.

"Word travels fast." you shrugged. Now it was your turn. "Alright, um...I originally was going to be in the Navy, I have one little brother, and I was raised in the midwest." you said and crossed your arms over your chest, which really just pushed them further together. Sam ran his fingers over his beard as he intentionally looked away from you.

"You weren't gonna be in the Navy." he finally said but not as confident as you were before. You tsk'd and made an X with your arms, incorrect buzzer sound from your mouth included.

"I was raised in the southwest. Arizona. That's another shot for you."

A few more rounds go by. You took two shots and now it was just one more. Neither one of you were lightweights but the alcohol just ignited a bit of a buzz for both of you.

It was now Sam's turn.

He paused for a moment to just stare at you under the lights at the bar. He could see you a lot better like this and he was just star struck.

"Sam," you said, watching him just blink.

"My favorite artist is James Brown," he started. "My middle name is Thomas...and I really want to kiss you right now." he said. His voice took on a softened yet forward tone. He didn't even flinch.

You stared back at him for a second before licking your lips that had gone suddenly dry. You shifted in your stool and leaned forward just a hair.

"Your favorite artist is Marvin Gaye." you said, "Your middle name is Thomas and...I really want to kiss you right now too."

You took the shot before he could, letting out a crisp exhale while never taking your eyes off his. There was a familiar burn in the pit of your stomach. His too. Sam Wilson has wanted nothing - nobody more in his life.

His truck slightly rocked with the driving force of your hips slamming down into his lap. His calloused yet soft palms felt you up like he knew your body. As if he touched you before. Only in his dreams. He's only ever been able to just imagine what was under that baggy camo and that decorated tag of yours.

Lieutenant General. In the back of his truck giving him the business.

Your forehead rested on his as you tried to focus on not reaching climax so early. You'd only just begun and you'd miss the feeling of his hands on your bare back if you ended it now.

"Pretty little bird," he whispered. You sank down completely into his lap and grabbed his jaw. It was dark but you knew he was looking into your eyes.

"Don't call me that when you're inside me." you joked softly and kissed him. Sam nodded and pressed you closer to his broad chest.

"Ma'am yes ma'am."

You kissed him again and started to roll your hips in a circular motion--at least you tried to--and Sam groaned your name into your mouth. You broke the kiss and leaned down to kiss his neck, leaving a small mark there so he could see it but not that it'd be easily noticeable. Especially by Joaquin.

"Damn, Lt.," he said as he slid his hands down to cup your ass. "Should've asked you out to drinks way earlier." you chuckled, gently biting his shoulder and riding him again. All the while holding the other side of his face just because you can.

"Ohh, get me there...yeah," he whispered repeatedly as he got closer and closer. His hips started to move on their own, fucking up into you with fervor to stay in sync. You slowly unraveled by the second as you were about to blow. Breathing irregular. Vision blurring. Unknowingly digging your nails into his shoulders.

You pulled yourself off him as you came. Clung onto him tight while twitching and moaning his name. Sam did the same. His hands slid down to your thighs and held on like it was the only thing keeping him aware of his surroundings.

He never really imagined getting with you would look like this; feel like this. However he's not opposed. Trust.

"I didn't know you had it like that, Lieutenant," he teased while still breathless and catching up to the reality that is his fogged up windows and potentially fucked up seats. You slowly sat back down into his lap, not minding the mess he made coating his thick, firm thighs as you whispered against his lips.

"That's 'Pretty little bird' to you."

#n3ptoonz #smut #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x you #mcu fandom #mcu #marvel mcu #samuel wilson #sam wilson smut

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translatemunson · 8 months ago

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death defying acts | bradley "rooster" bradshaw

series summary: Only one percent of US aviators can say they are Top Gun. You weren’t part of the elite aviators for the country, nor someone that quickly climbed the Navy ladder. Your skills and destiny led you to Intelligence work, and you believed you weren’t using your full potential. Until one day you’re transferred to San Diego to work with Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell and The Dagger Squad. New team, new mission, new challenges, and one small problem named Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw.

this is a bradley "rooster" bradshaw x fem!reader series

general content warning: minors please DNI thank you, lots of inaccuracies regarding the US Navy and aviation (I did my best researching, but some details might have slipped off or I just ignored in order to create my storyline), afab!reader, no descriptions of reader (tried to keep those as broad as possible so anyone could see themselves here), angst, implied and explicit smut, violence, action, implied deaths and lots of fights. for more details, check each individual warnings at the beginning of the chapters.

chapters

file 001 — call sign: Hyde

file 002 — brand new bar, same old problems

file 003 — things never go as planned

file 004 — Warbird takes the sky

this fic is currently archived/on a hiatus

series note: the following events take place after the uranium mission seen in the movie. i'm making things up and trying to keep it close to reality as much as possible, but this is fanfic, so chill guys. as per usual, i'm taking requests for scenes or ideas for dda (death defying acts), so please don't be shy and send me those via askbox or dms.

author's note: hi guys! it's me, effie with another fic about hot guys i'd like to— you know what i mean. english is not my first language, and i tend to take a few weeks to update the story, but don't give up on me, ok? anyway, first time writing for top gun: maverick characters, so i'm doing my best with all the details i could pick up from the movie.

banners credits to @cafekitsune

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick series #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley brawshaw x female!reader #bradley brawshaw x you #bradley brawshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun rooster #rooster x reader

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pixiesfz · 1 year ago

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inspired by canada's new series

camera shot j.f x reader

plot: you are hired to help film the canadian womens soccer teams documentary throughout the gold cup and end up socialising with the players

warnings: none

“Oh c’mon Joan I’ve been looking for a promotion for weeks and I know my way around San Diego, my auntie took me everywhere and I-“

Your boss put her hand over your mouth “Shush child” she said, her British accent thick “If you had let me finish my sentence I was going to tell you that you’re coming with me to film a short documentary”

Your eyes lit up “Really? Like you’re not fucking with me?” you ask with a smile and your boss nodded with a smile “We know you’ve been stepping up and you deserve it”

You smiled brightly “Thank you so much!”.

“Meet me at five in the morning for the plane ride” She called out as you started walking away and you shot her a thumbs-up.

When you got home to your apartment in Portland, where you had recently moved with your boss who got a better offer and took you with her you started packing, asking your neighbour to look after your cat muffin.

You only knew little about your neighbour, you knew she played soccer professionally and you knew she was Canadian, she’d had some more friends over recently, and now you were scared to open the door and have someone else open it.

Luckily Christine opened it with a smile “Hey y/n” she smiled before seeing the fluffy cat in your “and muffin”.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but I just got this documentary series for one of the teams in the ‘gold cup’ thing and I need someone to look after my cat” You smiled shyly, holding muffin up like he was a prize.

“He only scratches when you don’t give him belly scratches when he wants it” you instructed and the older woman just nodded, grabbing the cat out of your hands “You’re filming Canada by the way,” she told you and you smiled “are they all nice?” you asked and she nodded “extremely, way more than me,” she said as she started playing with your cat's ears.

“Yes, because you’re so scary”

Christine gave you a deadpan stare before dropping the cat onto her floor which he then immediately ran onto her couch and made himself comfortable.

“I can give you a rundown on everything if you’d like,” Christine said as she saw your shaky hands, you were very nervous and you nodded “Yes please, I just need to pack,” you told her “You can tell me whilst I do that,” you told her before running back to your apartment, Christine walking behind you before closing the door on Muffin who had now fallen asleep on her couch.

“Okay so I retired from my national career last year so I’m not there”

“oldie” you teased and the woman threw a Canadian scarf at you, which she had grabbed on her way out “I’m not old, and that is if you need to go to a game” You folded it into your suitcase “Thanks”

She explained to you the new girls and the younger ones before she went in depth about some of the others “And then there’s Jessie, she’s the new captain, I like to call her a mini-me” You smiled “Well that’s cute”

“She hates it though, so don’t call her that”

“I hardly think I’ll have a conversation with her or any of them,” you said with a shake of the head “They’re Canadians, they love to talk also Jessie isn’t the biggest fan of social media so maybe keep that in mind when she found out about the series she called in a nervous mess,” Christine said and you took a mental note to remember it “she is the captain though so that might be hard” you mumbled.

“You’re talented I think you can do it,” Christine told you before looking at her phone “It’s twelve, go to bed, where’s muffins food?”

“Next to the potted plant in the front” you sighed before zipping up your case.

Christine got up from her seat and rubbed her hands on her lap “Just look after Fleming for me, she can get in her head sometimes” she said softly and you nodded “I can do that”.

Christine nodded before leaving the room, you heard her pick up the food before she left.

The next twenty-four hours were a bit of a blur for you, you boarded the plane with Joan and two other camera guys and flew to San Diego where the Gold Cup was being held, and arrived at your hotel where Joan let you all take a long nap before you were needed in the meeting room.

You roll out of bed, putting a pair of jeans and a sweater on before walking down with your camera.

“You must be one of the camera people?” a voice popped up and you turned to a blonde woman “Yeah I’m y/n” you introduced yourself and the Canadian nodded “Chloe, I can walk with you to the meeting room, you look a little lost”

You gratefully nodded and followed behind the girl who you learnt played for Arsenal which Christine had told you, but you didn’t want the players knowing their ex-captain gave you a lesson about all of them.

When the two of you walked in, you felt people staring at you before Chloe smiled “this is y/n one of the filmers?” she asked and you nodded “Pretty much”

Some of the girls who arrived early started asking you questions right away.

‘Where are you from?’

‘Do you support a team?’

‘I like your sweater’

“Guy’s leave her be for a second she just got here”

A voice popped up and you looked across to a girl who had brown short hair, a little bit shrivelled up and her hands were in her pockets. She must’ve just woken up from a nap.

But you recognised her from Christine’s ‘lesson’

You smiled shyly at her before the Canadians gave you all sympathetic looks “It’s okay umm to answer your questions Uhm unfortunately I’m not that into sports, I’m from Los Angeles and thankyou I like this sweater too” You smiled and some of the girls laughed, including Jessie who still seemed tired, or maybe nervous.

You excused yourself to set up your camera and started to film once the meeting began, there were little introductions and you smiled and waved when their coach announced your name, catching eye contact with Jessie, both of you quickly looking away.

Their coach announced Jessie as the captain as you did your job, zooming up to the girl who glanced at you through the corner of her eye before being congratulated by friends.

Once the meeting finished you started to pack up your camera as Joan told you to interview some of the girls as she saw you talking to some of them.

When she left you saw another figure approaching you “Hi” a Canadian voice popped up and you whipped your head around to see Jessie “hi” you smiled and she looked down at your feet “Do you live in Portland by any chance?” she asked and you quickly zipped up your bag.

You didn’t want them to know you were friends with Christine, you felt like it would effect your job as their interviewer.

“Uhm yeah, why?” you asked and Jessie blushed “Oh I just- I just thought I had seen you before that’s all” she said, one hand brushing her hair back behind her ear.

“I’m guessing you live in Portland then?” you ask, standing up and she nods “Only recently though, I used to live in London before” You smiled “I have friends from college who live there, they say it’s nice but just really cold” Jessie nodded with a smirk “They are not wrong trust me”.

You just laughed and pulled your bag across your shoulder and Jessie looked to the door “I can walk you back to the room, It’s a bit hard to navigate” she offered

You thought back to when her teammate had found you at a loss because of that you had remembered how to get up but for some reason, you didn’t want to say no to the girl in front of you.

“Sure”

Jessie smiled before setting off out of the room, you beside her.

“What room are you?” she asked “307” you replied and she smiled “I’m 310” she revealed and you laughed “maybe we’ll run into each other more, “I really want to go to the hotel pool and spa but there's no free time during the day, the schedule is packed”

“Late night swim then?” Jessie asked and you nodded “maybe”.

You didn’t realise you had made it to your room before Jessie stopped walking “Well have a good night and maybe don’t try to wake me when you go the the pool” she teased and you rolled your eyes

“Maybe another night, I am dying for some sleep,” you said and the girl laughed as she reached her door.

“Bye Y/n’

‘Bye Jessie”

The first couple of days in camp were full of training for the Canadian team, sometimes you would pull some of the girls out for one-on-one questions which they always smiled and answered with full honesty.

Sabrina and you had to take a break from how much she made you laugh with silly comments.

After the first game, Canada came on top and you tried hard not to scream out in cheers as you were filming but once you stopped you greeted the girls with hugs. Squeezing Jessie a bit harder and congratulated her first game as the official captain.

“It’s um- It’s-“ she stuttered before shaking off her nerves “Thanks” she smiled and you laughed “Nasty black eye” You pointed at her eye which was red and blotchy, already bruising in some parts, Jessie lifted her fingertips up and lightly pressures the skin surrounding her eyes “Hopefully it will make me look badass” she laughed and you tilted your head to get a good look at it.

“Hopefully it’s not too bad for a coffee date tomorrow”

Jessie’s face turned red “What?” she asked and you blushed as well but laughed “Your interview at the café” you explained and Jessie looked at her feet “Oh yeah- I- I forgot” she admitted running her hand through her hair.

“I’ll leave you guys to it then, see you all at the hotel” you yelled out to the team before running after Joan who was already out of the arena.

Once you were sitting in the car your phone buzzed “Is that from Jessie?” Joan asked and you swivelled your head “Umm what no!” you said quickly, and your boss laughed “I’ve seen you two mingling”

“Please never say that word again”.

In the morning you were excited to get out of bed, even if the sun was still rising and it was weird because you were not a morning person.

Then you thought about your boss's comment.

Have you started to have a thing for the Canadian captain?

You hesitantly knocked on the girl's door which she quickly opened right after “Hey” she smiled and you waved your camera back at her “Hey Fleming” Smiling Jessie stepped out and closed her door “What café are we going to?” she asked “I chose a good one don’t worry”

You both tried to ignore stares from the public eye once you started setting up your camera and Jessie pretended to be preoccupied by her phone.

“all done” you smiled sweetly at Jessie “Can I press record?” she asked, confused by the video camera on the tripod, you found it adorable “Absolutely,” you said and the girl dived in.

“What does this button do?” she asked, and you peered your head over her shoulder, not realising that the impact made the girl red “That switches the brightness” you explained, brushing your fingertips to show her.

“I think if I wasn’t always so busy with soccer, I’d be taking pictures and videos of beautiful things all the tim,e” she told you and you nodded “It’s my favourite thing to do” you told her and she smiled, finally finding the record button.

“Can I say action?” she cheekily asked, and you nodded, laughing “if you really want to”

“Action!”

Jessie walked away from the camera, and you took over the camera as she walked over to the barista “hi” her cheery Canadian voice sounded, and she ordered her chair but turned back to you “do you want anything?” she asked and you popped your head up

“You don’t have to”

“I want to.”

You went silent before you remembered you hadn’t drunk or eaten anything yet “Just a hot chocolate please”

The barista smiled between your interactions as Jessie added a hot chocolate to her meal.

You both moved outside to start your interview, you smiled as Jessie talked about her passion, catching her eye a couple of times which made you both blush.

When your drinks came out you thanked the waitress who smiled at you both before telling Jessie she supported Chelsea but quickly came back with “we’ll miss you on the pitch”.

You laughed as Jessie got embarrassed, happy to catch It on film.

“That was sweet,” you told her and she laughed “Some Chelsea fans aren’t as sweet,” she told you and you hummed “I can imagine, as I’ve heard it’s a very hard on club”

You both went back to the interview before finishing up “Can you see my black eye?” she asked and you shook your head “Only when you looked straight at the camera but you hardly did that”

“I’m not the biggest fan of being filmed or doing social media” she admitted “I can kind of tell” You laughed and Jessie picked up your camera “Can I try and film?”

“film what?” you ask “Beautiful things” She shrugged “Like you said” she added and you felt a weird tingly feeling in your stomach.

You weren’t sure if it was from her words or the way her arms flexed when she picked the camera up and turned it towards you.

Jessie seemed to make it evident that she was filming you, making you blush “I see the appeal” she hummed before passing it back to you.

“Have you gone to the hotel spa yet?” Jessie asked and you nodded “I swam around the night after the game but I’m planning on going again” You responded, “Maybe this time I’ll join you?” Jessie asks hesitantly.

You smiled at her question “I would like that Jess” you told her, and she turned to you, slightly shocked “Yeah?” she asked and you nodded “yeah it be nice to have some company”.

Throughout the day you couldn’t stop smiling, thinking of Jessie and your conversation in the coffee shop but you tried to dial it down, filming the girls training as if nothing happened.

You will admit you found yourself filming Jessie more than the others at certain times.

You joined the team huddle next to Sabrine and Janine, Sabrine whispering ‘action’ in your ear, her arm around your waist making you laugh, catching Jessie’s attention as her eyes glared daggers at her Canadian teammate, which did not go unnoticed by Janine who pointed her brows at her friend.

To which Jessie ignored.

When the small meeting ended between the group you filmed everyone leaving, getting ready for the game against the USA.

Jessie was watching as you panned the camera around, not seeing her best friend behind her “Jessie” Janine said and the girl shrieked, the sound going from nowhere “Where did you come from?” the ex-Chelsea player said, her voice slightly raised from panic.

“Well you would’ve noticed if you weren’t too busy ogling the camera girl,” the blonde girl said, her eyebrows raised “Her name is y/n,” Jessie said with her eyes looking to the floor “Right, y/n” Janine nodded.

Janine looked back over to you as you were now packing up, cocking her head as she took a good look at you “She’s familiar” she hummed as Jessie span her face around “Stop looking at her, or else she’ll know we’re talking about her”

“Oh calm down Jess, she’s probably into you too” Janine brushed her friend off who was now blushing “I’m not-“ she tried to lie but her friend shot her a look “Okay I’m into her”.

Janine gasped “I know how I know her now!” Jessie bulged her eyes, slapping her friend “Shut up” she said before running away into the rooms, blushing as you looked over, waving to Janine who held a smile and ran up to you.

“You’re Christine's neighbor!” she said loudly, proud of herself as you stuttered “Y-yeah I am” you smiled and Janine stepped back “Oh did you not want people to know” she cringed and you shook your head “No it’s fine I think, I just didn’t want to bring it up or brag about it” you explained and the girl nodded and you continued, finding a flow in the conversation “I tried to be very professional coming into this and not really talk so I didn’t think people needed to know but you guys are all nice” you shrugged and Janine nodded “I just recognised you, I’ve been to Christine’s a lot”

You nodded “Yeah she’s looking after my cat right now” you laughed and she joined you, silently judging your character for her good friend.

“I need to see a picture”.

The weather was horrendous for the American game, limiting your access to filming in certain area but you were still drenched under your big raincoat that covered you. Filming as all the women practically swam around the ground.

Some of them even apologized as when they kicked near you, a gush of water fell on you from the impact.

You just responded with a smile and thumbs up. Hoping your camera won’t break soon.

You got up for penalties, finally going inside with your camera as you were called in “They lost?”

You asked as Joan walked in, helping you check the camera’s and nodded “I would allow you to check on Jessie but the two guys I had come with us have disappeared somewhere so you’re all I got right now” she sighed, the feeling of defeat on everyone’s shoulders.

“So we go home tomorrow?” you ask and the woman nodded

“We go home tomorrow”.

When you were sat in your room you watched the digital clock as it hit midnight, but you weren’t tired, you weren’t tired at all.

So you got up, put on your triangle bikini and the hotels dressing gown, grabbed a towel and walked out. You thought about knocking on Jessie’s door but elected not to thinking she needed her time.

She was probably asleep anyway.

You sat in the spa, your head laid back on your shoulders before you heard the door open, revealing a tired Jessie Fleming.

“I can leave if you want” you said, not sure if the girl wanted alone time but she shook her head “I was actually hoping you would be here” she gave you a half smile and you smiled back before she jumped into the spa with you.

There was a comfortable silence before you looked at Jessie “You okay?” you asked and the girl shrugged “This was just my first tournament as captain” she explained “can’t help but feel I let them down”

You nodded “You didn’t let anyone down Jess”.

The girl nodded, smiling at the nickname. “Can we talk about something other than football?” she asked and you smiled “sure, do you have a big family?”

The both of you talked, bringing smiles on each other’s faces, slowly gravitating towards each other until you were sitting next to each other both of your thighs touching.

“I can’t believe you took dance classes in college” you laughed, looking at the girl “I had moves” she defended herself but you just gave her a look, your eyes quickly looking at her lips as you saw she did the same.

The lights had been off the entire time as it was night but as you both started leaning into each other the lights turned on, both pulling away from the brightness as a worker walked in, oblivious to the two of you.

“What’s the time?” You asked, hiding your eyes “Five in the morning!” the worker yelled out to you both as your eyes popped “I’m on a plane in two hours!”

Jessie watched as you panicked, quickly jumping out of the spa and grabbing two towels for you both “here” she threw it to you and you wrapped yourself before quickly turning to the girl “I’m sorry”

And you left.

Jessie was sitting in Christines kitchen playing with a bowl of cereal after her flight.

“So you met a girl, flirted with her and didn’t kiss her” Christine listed as Jessie groaned “well technically I tried but we were interrupted” she said and Janine laughed “you shoul’ve seen it she was so into her it was insane”

“It wasn’t that obvious”

“We had a bet going on, her workmates were in on it!”

Christine furrowed her brows …workmates?

“What was her name?” Christine asked but her doorbell rang, Christine going up to answer as she knew someone was coming “wait my neighbours getting her cat”

“I was wondering where this cutie came from” Janine cooed, scratching the cats head.

You were at the end of the door waiting for Christine to open the door, if there was anything that could make you feel any better right now was your cat.

“Hey y/n!” Christine cheered opening the door before two heads peeked through

“Y/n?”

“Jessie?”

“Oh I forgot to mention she was Christines neighbour”

And that’s how you met your future wife.

#woso #woso soccer #woso x reader #woso community #jessie fleming #jflem #baby with jessie #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming x reader #canada women #sam kerr #janine beckie

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oopsallgoalies · 11 months ago

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Snitches Get Stitches Masterlist

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Jake Seresin, golden boy of the NHL and Captain of the Dallas Stars makes headlines when he unexpectedly signs with newly-formed San Diego Dogfighters. When your future seems at the verge of crashing down, you receive the opportunity of a lifetime to become the team physician for the Dogfighters. You never expected to be working directly with your favorite hockey player. Jake has a secret and you have a job to do. Will he be able to trust you enough to help and will you be able to trust him with your heart?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, violence, sports violence, medical stuff, blood probably, angst, fluff, (potentially eventual) smut, forbidden romance, sexual harassment, suggestive language, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, Snitches Get Stitches. It was originally posted in October-November 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Main Series: COMPLETED

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 4.5

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 7.5

Chapter 8

Chapter 8.5

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Oneshots

Daddy’s Queen

One Man’s Trash

Blurbs

Matcha Latte

#snitches get stitches // goldenseresinretriever #sgs // goldenseresinretriever #San Diego dogfighters #San Diego dogfighters au #sdd // goldenseresinretriever #TGM hockey au #top gun Maverick hockey au #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #Jake hangman seresin x you #hangman x reader #hangman x you #no use of y/n

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eighteaseven · 2 months ago

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of all the gin joints in all the world

Relationships: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Tags: Outsider POV, Post-Movie: Top Gun Maverick

Rating: T

Word Count: 5,041

Summary:

“You said you need a pilot, ma’am? Captain Pete Mitchell, United States Navy. I’ve been an aviator for 35 years.”

She can feel her eyes watering up in relief. Thank you, God, she sends heavenward, into the clouds even higher than their cruising altitude.

“Can you fly an A320?”

Captain Mitchell smiles at her and, good lord, he really is a miracle.

“Ma’am, if it has wings, I can fly it,” he winks and adds, “Hell, I can probably manage even if it doesn’t.”

Or; Maverick's red-eye flight home to San Diego is more eventful than he might have hoped.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64591249

#top gun maverick #maverick mitchell #icemav #top gun fic #top gun #my fic

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recurring-polynya · 6 months ago

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Sorry if you have been asked this before but I was wondering is there some reason why Kubo never really showed too much regarding Rukia’s feelings towards Renji ? It’s not only her but even Gin & Ichigo with Rangiku & Orihime !! Like he gives enough so people can sense something but he doesn’t give a lot away. Is it about interpretation or he just simply doesn’t want to write romance too deeply ??

Kubo has said quite plainly that he doesn't want to put romance at the forefront. I think he's said this various times in various ways, but here's a pretty definitive quote from an interview he gave at the 2018 San Diego Comicon:

Q: Speaking of Ichigo's relationships with his friends, there seems to be a love triangle between Ichigo, Rukia, and Orihime. Do you delve more into this in later volumes? A. Tite Kubo: (laughs) I get asked about that a lot! I don't want to make Bleach into a love story because there are much more exciting things about their personalities and things that they can do instead of getting into the romance aspect of their relationships.

Kubo's answers are sometimes a little cheeky, but I don't see any reason to read this as anything other than face value. He may have had additional reasons to leave romance out of the story--it's a shounen and he didn't think that stuff would be of interest to the core of his readers, he didn't want to deal with angry ship opinions, etc, etc, but the long and short of it is the guy said "this is not a kissing story" and it's not.

Not to get too nitpicky--this was an interview, there's some degree of translation involved--but I actually find this kind of funny because while I agree that it's not a romance, I would *absolutely* classify Bleach as a love story. Bleach is about 600 love stories. It's about the love between a boy and his precious friends, the love between big brothers and little sisters, about the love between captains and lieutenants, about love that can only be expressed in battle, about love that turns poisonous and corrupts, about love that saves and purifies, about a love for the world you live in and want, with all your heart to make better. And while it's not a romance, I think it is about romantic love as well.

So, even though that's the real reason, I think it is also perfectly in-character for Rukia to act the way she does and I want to yap about it. I can tell right now this is gonna get long, so I am going to put it under a cut.

Just to get it out of the way up-front, I will briefly cover the other characters you mentioned. Both of this could easily merit their own essay, but I want to talk about Rukia, so I'm gonna keep it brief.

My interpretation on Gin and Rangiku is that they were not on romantic terms at any point of the canon timeline. My guess is that when she made it to the Academy and caught up with him again, it very quickly became obvious that he was no longer being genuine with her, and I think she cut him off. He is on a mission for revenge; she doesn't understand why he acts the way he does and distances herself from it. That being said, I (and I think many people?) find their parting scenes to be deeply, tragically romantic. I think this depends on your definition of "romantic." It never would have worked. He ruined it. If he had lived, it would change nothing. But Othello loved Desdemona, too. A story being a tragedy doesn't preclude it being a love story.

Ichigo is a teenage boy with a heart the size of three worlds. I think the amount of emotion he would like to leak out of his body is zero. I think the amount of emotion that does leak out of his body is so high that the signal-to-noise ratio makes it very difficult to discern anything meaningful. My reading of Bleach is that he does have special feelings for Orihime and that they are a slightly different flavor than he has for other people, but it's super hard to tell because he makes the same loving puppy eyes at Chad and Uryuu and Renji and Grimmjow. This guy is constantly torn between loving everyone he knows with the luminosity of a small star and trying to act too cool for school. Also, he's very young. He's still figuring this out, too.

Okay! Let's talk about Rukia!!!

The thing about Rukia is that she is really, really uncomfortable expressing affection. In the flashback scenes where she talks about how much she admired Kaien and Miyako, she's shown standing far away and looking at them from a great distance. When Byakuya compliments her bankai, she squeezes her eyes shut and has to look away.

Ukitake comments at how remarkably "open" he finds her to be with Orihime, even though what they are actually doing is training. You want to see a love confession? Here's Rukia's love confession to Orihime from We Do (Knot) Always Love You (Renji is here, too):

Feeling a little shy and fidgety, Rukia hesitated a few times as she replied to Orihime. "Th-that's because, Inoue I consider you……my……b-best girl-friend! So therefore……I thought…I should tell you first……" She spoke as her last few words became a little mumbled. "……your face is redder than the time I asked you to marry me ya know." "Sh-shut up!!"

A thing I really like about this though, is that while it is portrayed as something that sometimes holds Rukia back in her relationships, it's not portrayed as some sort of fatal flaw. She's a private person, and that's ok. This isn't a quality we often get to see female characters have. If this were a romance story, maybe we'd have to see her overcome this, but it's not! It's an action story and Rukia is a cool and stoic character, which is exactly how she wants to be!

I'm always pounding my shoe on the table over this, but I really, genuinely think that a significant chunk of Renji's character/personality design was specifically to be Rukia's love interest, which I think is based as Hell of him. He's good-looking, he's cool, he's devoted to her, he's powerful along the rules of the worldbuilding, but not in a way that overshadows her. And he meets her where she is.

The scene where Renji carries Rukia down the 8,000 flights of Soukyoku Hill stairs is, in my opinion, the most romantic scene in all of literature. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Rukia is so upset about being rescued, she is cannot stand the fact that anyone cares about her, or worse, that they would risk themselves for her. It's so clear that Renji understands this, and in the gentlest possible terms, asks her to accept his (and Ichigo's) help, as if she has any say in it at this point. He doesn't even make eye contact as he very obliquely says Let us care about you.

This causes Rukia, the most repressed woman in the universe, to hunch in on herself so that he can't see her cry and then he tells her to shut up. I am making little graspy hands at my computer as I write this. This is so good. Imagine. Imagine someone understanding you so well that they would spare you from your own emotions in this way. I am going insane.

This is not a Hallmark Christmas movie. This is a love story for those of us who struggle to connect with others.

I want to kind of hop out and say that I think there's a certain kind of person (me), who gets interested in romances almost exclusively from stories that have little-to-no romantic content. This is not an accident. For me, this is how I like it. I want to read about characters who save the world and I want them to be very business-up-front about it. I mean, yeah, I wouldn't mind if they kissed on screen once, but I don't need it. I have an imagination for that. I have fanfiction for that. I literally want them to do it on their own time. You know what's romantic to me? Meaningful looks. Backing each other up. Fighting in synch. Matching outfits. This is romance to me, and I think Rukia might actually agree with me.

This isn't to say that this is all of Rukia and Renji's relationship. I think they have talked about feelings, I think they've probably held hands and kissed or whatever, but where and when and how it happened is their own business. I think Renji probably wouldn't have minded getting one on-panel smooch, but this feels exactly how I think Rukia would want her relationship portrayed: We looked very cool and then, several years later, we were married.

Oh, and they also very much did get the horniest panels in all of Bleach, which, weirdly enough, I think Rukia would also approve of.

#renruki #rukia kuchiki #renji abarai #i definitely lost the thread of this post somewhere in the middle i'm sorry op #if anyone reads this and thinks 'poly by your own argument rukia would absolutely hate being in your fanfiction' that is correct #my fanfiction is for renji

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wosoimagines · 2 years ago

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Celebrations - Vivianne Miedema/Reader

prompt: Arsenal celebrates Viv finally making her return from her ACL injury.

warnings: none

words: 4587

(Y/N) POV

I grinned as I wrapped my arms around Viv’s waist as I picked her up to spin her around. Viv scoffed in my arms before I put her down. She shook her head at me as I only followed behind her.

“Come on, Viv! Be excited! You’re back!” I cheered. Viv only rolled her eyes. “Come on, darling. It’s been three hundred and eleven days. You’re allowed to get excited and celebrate coming back.”

“We’ll celebrate when I actually get subbed onto the pitch,” Viv said.

I shrugged at that. I knew that Viv had been nervous about coming back, but I had been there every step of the way to assure her that she was going to be okay. I had missed getting to play with Viv for so long now and I knew that Jonas was going to sub her on even if it was just for a few minutes.

I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t keep my excitement in. Katie was right there with me. Not that it surprised any of us since Katie was consider the president of Viv’s fan club.

Honestly, I was just really looking for when Viv would finally get to start again. I couldn’t wait to play with her in the starting eleven again.

“Schatje,” Viv called out. I paused my animated retelling of my most recent trip home to turn to Viv. I grinned when Viv motioned in front of her. “Come sit.”

I abandoned my storytelling as I made my way over to where Viv was before I felt her running her hands through my hair so that she could pull it up for me. It was a small thing we had started after Viv realized how nervous I got before games during my first season with Arsenal.

It wasn’t long before Katie came to sit in front of me so that the two of us could talk about how excited we were for our national team camps that would be coming up. Everyone would be flying out the next morning to get to their respective camps.

While I couldn’t wait to go home and see all my national teammates, I was a bit bummed out that Viv wouldn’t be able to come watch my games this time around as she would finally be back with the Dutch National Team. Viv had assured me that she would still make time to watch my matches though as I promised to watch hers as well.

“What are you most excited for, (Y/N)?”

“Tobin and Christen said they’d come out to catch the second game since it’s in San Diego,” I said with a grin.

It was no secret that Tobin and Christen had taken me under their wing when I joined the national team. My Arsenal teammates had been surprised though when I had finally convinced Tobin to join Arsenal and they had seen just how close the two of us were. But I hadn’t had much of a chance to see the two while preparing for the World Cup and helping Viv rehab, all the while both Tobin and Christen were dealing with their own injuries.

“You must miss them, huh?” Katie asked as she nudged my foot with her own. “All of your national teammates?”

My situation was a bit different from everyone else’s on the team, it seemed. Pretty much everyone else at Arsenal had someone from the same country as them on the team. Or they at least knew someone who was playing the WSL that they knew from their national team.

Lindsey was my closest teammate and even then, she was in France. Well, I guess that I did have Catarina Macario and Mia Fishel both were still so new to the team that I wasn’t that close to either of them. I was closer to Jessie Flemming than I was to either of them.

“Yeah, I really do miss them,” I nodded. I hadn’t been called up for our September friendlies after I had been publicly critical of Vlatko and the USSF for keeping him around for so long, but the federation knew that they would only be able to keep me off the team for a short amount of time before there was clear outcry to have me back. “Besides, Becky’s going to be back in camp, so we’ll finally get Captain America back on the field. Maybe we’ll get her to finally score too.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Katie said.

Viv pressed a kiss to the top of my head before she moved from where she was sitting. I let Katie help me up before the two of us had headed out to get lined up since we were both starting today.

While we were waiting in the tunnel I couldn’t help as I kept bouncing on my heels. This should be a good game for us after all. Plus, we had a celebration dinner planned for after the game for Viv’s return.

The second the whistle blew to start the match I knew that it was going to be a rough one. Not that it completely surprised me, Bristol hadn’t won a match yet this year and no one ever wanted to start the season off with four losses so they would try their hardest to stop that from happening. That meant targeting Alessia and staying on my back as well.

Honestly, it was a pretty smart tactic. Alessia’s temper could almost rival Katie’s and that was saying something. If they could draw Alessia into getting a yellow, or even a red, it would shift the game.

There was just one major detail that Bristol was forgetting.

We’ve got McCabe.

Katie scored a banger in the seventh minute giving us the advantage that we had all expected to have.

But it was just two minutes later that the advantage came crashing down.

I had made a run for the ball but struggled to get my balance as I had taken a small shove from one of the Bristol players that sent me crashing to the ground. I had heard the dreaded pop our recent ACL squad at Arsenal had described as I hit the ground. I was immediately clutching at my knee even as play continued around me.

Katie was the first one to realize that I was actually hurt as I hadn’t gotten up yet. She was quick to fight to get the ball back before kicking it out so that the play would stop. She was also the first one over to me.

“Please, tell me it’s your ankle,” Katie said as she knelt on the ground next to me. I clenched my teeth as I shook my head. “(Y/N), please tell me it’s something other than your knee.”

“I’d love to,” I said, causing Katie to let out a sigh of relief. It was always worrying, no matter what color jersey a player wore, when they went down because it seemed like a majority of injuries these days were ACL injuries. “But it’s definitely my knee.”

“Okay,” Katie nodded. I saw her briefly turn to signal for a sub so I could go off. “It’s gonna be okay. Maybe it isn’t that bad.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

I wasn’t surprised by our other teammates coming to check on me or how Kim also stayed close.

“Just a sprain, yeah?” Katie suggested. I glanced up to see that Kim didn’t look super confident in that possibility. “Or just a hyperextended knee? So long as you didn’t hear a pop there’s a chance it isn’t your ACL. Did you hear a pop?”

My eyes caught where Viv was standing on the sideline. I couldn’t let her stand there and worry about me. Not when we were supposed to celebrate her return.

The trainers were close enough to us that they were able to hear our conversation.

“I didn’t hear a pop or feel one,” I assured Katie. I knew that Irish woman would be angry with me when the news did come out because I was already certain that it was my ACL, but I refused to be the reason that Viv’s night was ruined. “I’m sure these guys will take good care of me and have me back on the field in no time.”

Katie nodded as the trainers moved next to me. Kim grabbed ahold of Katie’s arm to pull her up.

“Come on, Katie,” Kim softly coaxed the Irish woman. “(Y/N) will be all right. Let’s get out of the way and let the trainers do their thing.”

Katie hesitated but I smiled at her and nodded so she went with Kim while I let the trainers help roll me over. I brought my hand to cover up my mouth so that no one would be able to read my lips.

“It definitely popped,” I admitted behind my hand. The trainers froze at that because I had just told Katie that it didn’t. “Don’t tell the team. I don’t want to ruin Viv’s night with my own torn ACL.”

“You sure?”

“I heard it and felt it pop. It’s definitely torn.”

The trainers nodded before they moved to load me on the stretcher. I knew that it was something that had become precautionary with all the severe knee injuries so many players had been through recently.

They carried me off the field, but I let them stop so that Viv could check on me once we reached the tunnel, so it was a bit more private. I sent her a soft smile as she crouched so that she was at my height as she cupped my face.

“Your knee?” Viv asked.

“I doubt it’s that serious. It doesn’t feel that bad, I promise,” I assured her. I couldn’t help how the guilt gnawed at me as I said the words because I knew that she would be upset and worried when she did find out that my ACL was torn. “They’re just taking me out on the stretcher as a precaution. I’ll be back from the hospital for dinner. Right, guys?”

There was a course of yeses from the trainers.

Viv sighed as she nodded her head before pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“I’ll see you later, Schatje.”

“Hey,” I said as I reached out and grabbed a hold of her wrist when she went to walk away. I grinded my teeth together at the aching pain that came from my knee at the slight movement. Viv bit her lip at my reaction. “I’m going to fine, okay? Tonight’s about you. I know that Jonas is going to get you on the field, and I know that it isn’t going to be how we planned it with both of us being on the field, but, Viv, you deserve to be back out there. Enjoy that, yeah?”

Viv slowly nodded her head, and I gave her one last small smile before I kissed the back of her hand and let her go.

“No one tells Jonas until after the team has gone out,” I said once Viv was out of hearing range.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You okay, kid?”

“I’m fine.”

Becky had been the first to call me. I had seen all the texts that my national teammates had sent me, but Becky was the one I had answered first. I was hesitant to text Tobin or Christen back. I knew that they would call me as soon as they knew I was out of the hospital, but I didn’t know how long I would last talking with them on the phone before I broke down.

Tobin and Christen weren’t just my team moms. They were my safety net. They had been the ones I went to when my anxiety about playing started to get to me. They were the ones who had convinced me to finally ask Viv out and they had been there through the hardest times in my life. But this was one of the worst setbacks I had, and it was at the worst time with the Olympics only nine months away.

I didn’t even know how long I would make it before asking Tobin and Christen to fly over to help me out while Viv was away at camp. I knew that they would do it too, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty for even thinking about asking them when they both had so much on their own plates already.

“How bad is it?”

I froze at the question. I, logically, knew that Becky would be the one they’d have call me to get information about my injury since she was our team captain, and we were in between coaches at the moment.

“My ACL is torn,” I admitted. I ran a hand over my face as I stayed in the car that was sitting outside the restaurant. Kim had stuck around to wait for me to get back to London Coloney with a couple of trainers. I had assured her that I was fine and that I just had to call Becky to give her an update so she could tell our national team. “I don’t even know what I’m going to do about surgery. Viv’s supposed to head to her own national camp tomorrow. But the longer I put it off, the longer I’ll have no idea what my timetable to return would look like.”

“Okay, you talk it over with Viv and get a gameplan with the medical staff at Arsenal and keep me updated.”

I knew that would be the next step. I sighed as I looked at the restaurant entrance. I wasn’t going to ruin Viv’s celebration so our talk would have to wait until after dinner. It really was unfortunate that we had to have such a quick turnaround between our game tonight and the national camps that everyone was leaving for tomorrow.

“Hey, Becky?” I called out before she could hang up the phone. “I know the federation wants you to report back to them tonight, but do you think it can wait until tomorrow?”

“Kid, they need to know as soon as possible.”

“I know, but it was Viv’s first game back from her ACL. I didn’t let her know how bad it was when they took me off. I didn’t tell her that I heard the pop,” I explained. Viv deserved to be able to celebrate this without having to worry about me. “I just want her to be able to celebrate finally getting back on the field for a game. I’m going to tell her tonight, but I want to be the one to do it. Not the team breaking the news.”

“Okay, but I call them at eight o’clock tonight,” Becky relented. I nodded in relief even though she couldn’t see me. “That’s like four hours. So, you make sure you tell her before then.”

“I will. I promise.”

We wrapped up our conversation as I made her promise to let the rest of the girls know that I missed all of them and I was upset that I wouldn’t be there to see them but that I trusted that they would win without me.

I took a moment to compose myself before I grabbed the crutches from the back of the car to head into the restaurant. I was slower to get back to the private room where the others already were. I could see the worry in my teammates faces when they saw the crutches. But my eyes met with Viv’s as I ignored our teammates.

Viv’s eyes darted down to the knee that I had hurt as she immediately started to fidget with the rings on her fingers. I started to make my way toward her before I took a seat next to her. Once I had the crutches leaned against the wall that was behind us, I grabbed ahold of her hand.

“It’s fine. Just hyperextended,” I assured her. Viv’s shoulders dropped in relief. “Doc said to get rest and the trainers will reevaluate next week to see how it’s looking. I’ll be back on the field in no time. I promise.”

Viv smiled at that as she gave my hand a tight squeeze. The guilt hit me hard as I watched the worry disappear from Viv’s eyes. I knew it was cruel to give her this false hope, but I didn’t want to ruin this for her.

“Great! That means you’ll be back with us in no time!” Katie cheered. I shook my head as Viv and I both turned to look at her. “Just too bad you won’t be going to national camp now.”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t need to think about that right now. Especially because it still hadn’t really hit just yet that I was going to be missing out on seeing some of my best friends for the second camp in a row.

“Just wait, McCabe. Once Beth, Viv, and I all get back on the field, it’ll be your spot that I take, and you’ll be the one riding the bench.”

Katie gasped at that before she pretended that I had actually hurt her. I couldn’t help but smile as Viv laughed at Katie.

As our night moved along, I found myself forgetting about the injury I had just sustained and instead lost myself in the celebration. It wasn’t even anything big we did for Viv. We didn’t even focus too much attention on her, but Viv honestly did love being around the rest of the team.

While she hadn’t been completely separated from the team during her injury and rehab, she had missed getting to spend as much time as she was used to with the rest of the team. I had also been careful to limit how much either of us committed to team bonding nights, especially when it was game nights knowing that as much as she pretended to hate the games, Viv was one of the most competitive people I knew, and she would have been upset by the number of games she couldn’t join in.

It was nice to see her enjoying herself with the rest of the team.

Aside from being the newest one on the team to be injured, today was amazing. Even as dinner was winding down and some of our teammates started to make their leave. Katie assuring both Viv and I that she was covering our meals tonight as the president of Viv’s fan club.

Of course, we could only go for so long though before something had to go wrong when our squad was around.

I hadn’t even been paying attention to the Aussies who were messing around next to the table that Viv and I were still sitting at as we both quietly talked to each other. I knew that the two of us would be making our leave soon as Viv was obviously worn out from the day.

I moved to slide out of my seat, but that proved to be the wrong thing to do because as soon as I had turned so that I could maneuver my way to my feet, Kyra had taken off to get away from Caitlin who was trying to chase her. Which meant that both of them collided with my recently injured knee.

I gasped as I tried to hold back the tears while I turned back in my seat to keep it from being ran into again. I was very away of how all of the attention had been turned to me.

The aching pain that I had been able to ignore all night was back and it was ten times worse now. It was so bad that I couldn’t even process the apologies coming from Kyra and Caitlin. Viv was quick to move around the table so that she could be on the side I was trying to get out from as she waited for the pain to subside.

“Did they give you anything for the pain?” Viv asked.

I shook my head before I fished out the prescription from my jacket pocket.

“I have a prescription, but I’ll have to get it from the pharmacy tomorrow.”

Viv took the prescription from me. I was also a bit surprised to find that she had shooed the others away so that we were in the room by ourselves.

“Why would they give you a prescription if you just hyperextended your knee?”

I sighed at the question. I really didn’t want to do this here. I would do it at home, but not here where anyone could hear us.

“(Y/N), they wouldn’t give this to you if you hyperextended your knee. Especially not a prescription for this much,” Viv pointed out. I knew that she had figured it out. Viv looked up at me as I felt my shoulder slump forward. I was already over this injury, and I had only had it for about five hours. “Why would they write you a prescription?”

“Not here, Viv.”

“Yes, here.”

“No. I’m not doing this here,” I said. Viv scoffed as she looked away from me. “We can talk about it as soon as we get home where it’ll be a private talk, but I’m not going to do this in public.”

Viv huffed as she stayed crouched in front of me for a moment before helping me up and situated with my crutches. Our walk outside was a silent one until we actually reached outside. Once we were outside, I found myself saying goodbye to our teammates and assuring both Kyra and Caitlin that I would be fine.

Viv stayed by my side as we made our way to the car. She even helped me get into the car. Something that we had mastered when she tore ACL, but it was a little awkward now. Both of us were used to doing the other’s role.

Viv stayed silent the whole ride back to our apartment. This morning’s playlist to get us both excited about the match we had today was the only thing keeping us from complete silence inside the car.

Even when we got home, Viv stayed quiet. She had gotten both of our bags out without a sound and followed me into the building. Her watching me struggle with the door for a moment before she held it open all the way so that I could get in without having to worry if the door was going to close on me or not. She stayed behind me as we made our way into the building.

I wasn’t sure if she refused to move in front of me just so she wouldn’t have to face me or if it was just because she was afraid that I’d fall and she thought she had a better chance at catching me if she was behind me.

Our trip from the elevator to our apartment took longer than normal as I was getting used to the crutches and couldn’t move as fast as Viv had eventually been able to. But once we were inside of our apartment, I moved to sit on the couch. I was fully prepared to sleep on the couch as well if she was mad enough at me. After all she was the one that would be going to a national camp tomorrow, so she’d need a better rest than me.

“I was going to tell you,” I assured her as she took a seat on the couch once our bags were put up. “I promise I was.”

“And did you plan on telling me before or after I left for camp?”

“I’m not a complete asshole, Viv. I was going to tell you as soon as we got home. But I knew what tonight meant for you. Three hundred and eleven days and you finally got back on the field. You deserved to celebrate with your friends. I wasn’t just going to let you skip that to baby me when I’m fine.”

“You tore your ACL! I don’t think you get what that’s like! Take it from some‒”

“I know! I know,” I cut her off. I couldn’t stop the tears that were threatening to fall as it was all finally catching up to me. “I’ll be out for at least six months, but it will more than likely be closer to nine before I can get on the field again. I’ll probably miss the Olympics because if it takes me nine months to come back then there’s no way I’ll be in form to go to the Olympics. And I’ll probably have more bad days than good ones.”

“When are you having surgery?”

“I don’t know, Viv. It just happened tonight. I’ll probably go talk to the team medics and a doctor tomorrow to figure out a plan.”

“I’ll call Jonker and let him know that I won’t be at camp.”

“No. No!” I moved forward to snatch her phone away from her. Viv tried to reach for it, but I moved back as far as I could. “You’re not doing that! You’re going to camp. I’m not letting you ruin everything you’ve worked for because of me.”

“You were there for me! Why can’t I be there for you?”

“I’m not saying that you can’t be. But you’re not putting your own career on hold because I have to have a surgery.”

“Then what about while I’m gone? It a lot harder to take care of yourself when you’re on crutches than you think.”

I sighed as I pinched the bridge of my nose. We were getting nowhere with this.

“Beth and Leah and Laura are all still going to be here. None of them were called up,” I pointed out. I hadn’t really thought about asking any of them if they’d be okay to help me out. “I can always ask them to help me. I’m sure that Tobin or Christen wouldn’t mind flying over to help me out for a couple of days.”

“I want to be able to take care of you like you took care of me,” Viv admitted as she moved closer to me. I sighed as I threaded a hand in her hair. “It’s scary and I would have never gotten through my own injury without you. I want us to be able to play together again and that means that you’ve got to get through this, but it’s hard and so emotionally draining.”

“And you are the one that’s going to get me through it,” I said. Viv perked up a little at that. “But I’m not going to let you sacrifice your own career because of mine. Especially not when you just got yours back. So, you’re going to camp.”

“But what about your surgery?”

I sighed as I moved my hand to play with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck. It knew that Viv always calmed down when I did that.

“I’ll wait to schedule it until you’re back from camp. And I’ll make sure that it won’t clash with the Manchester City game,” I assured Viv. Viv sighed before nodding in agreement. “Besides, between the girls who weren’t called up and our medical team, I’ll be well taken care of while you’re gone. And I’ll be sure to talk to you every day.”

“And if it ever feels like you’re drowning, you’ll tell me so that I can be there to pull you up like you did for me, right?”

“Right.”

#viviannne miedema x reader #vivianne miedema imagines #vivianne miedema imagine #vivianne miedema #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc imagines #arsenal wfc #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #uswnt #arsenal x reader #arsenal imagines #arsenal imagine #arsenal

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gamergirl929 · 1 year ago

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Hate Me, Hate Me (Chase Me, Chase Me) (Alex Morgan x Reader)

Anonymous Request: For the alex morgan fic can i request for the gp!reader where hate sex!!! like on pitch alex are pushing reader n they became fucking mad n just wreck alex of the pitch...

I changed the plot a tad, because I think hooking up on the pitch MAY be noticed.

So, this is a something new for me, so I decided to give it a try, consent is 100% in this fic, I'm not into writing anything like that. Reader is G!P, and needless to say, multiple warnings for smut, and cheating, this is basically porn with a bit of plot, if you squint, so PLEASE let me know what you think, this is something new for me and I'm a bit nervous, so please be gentle.

Your nostrils flared as you shot the San Diego Captain, Alex Morgan a vicious glare, the woman glaring back.

Ever since you were drafted from the North Carolina Courage to the San Diego Wave, you’d done nothing but, butt heads with the forward, the woman seemingly on your ass more than she was any of your teammates.

“Listen, I don’t know how they do it over at NCC, but here, I’m your captain, and I dictate play.” She bites, turning her back on you and moving to the practice field’s sidelines.

Unfortunately for you, you were the only ones on the field, the rest of your teammates at home by now, whereas you were forced to stay back by Casey Stoney at the request of Alex Morgan.

“Obviously, NCC dictated play better, maybe it was because they didn’t have you as captain.” You snarl, her blue orbs icy as she turns towards you.

“I’m a better captain than ANYONE in the NWSL, especially O’Sullivan.”

You scoff as she marches over to the bench and hastily grabs her things.

“What’s wrong Morgan? Can’t take the heat?” You growl as you follow quickly after her, Alex marching towards the parking lot.

“No, I just can’t stand seeing your face any longer.” She snarls as she makes her way towards her car, slamming the door loudly the second she’s inside.

You shake your head angrily, your arms crossed across your chest.

“Bitch.”

************************************************************************

The following weeks are much of the same, Alex Morgan demanding you stay behind after practice, to practice solely with you, and getting on your nerves each and every single time.

“Why is it that you think I need to stay behind every practice?” You bite, Alex’s eyes narrowing.

“Because you need more practice, NCC is small fry compared to The Wave.”

You roll your eyes.

“You’ve been here what? Three years?” You snort. “NCC has been here for seven.”

Alex drops the black and white ball she was holding in her hands to the turf before marching towards you.

“NCC drafted you, remember?” She bites and you roll your eyes.

If there was one thing you hadn’t expected when you joined the San Diego Wave, it was for Alex Morgan to loathe you as she did.

You’d heard nothing but good things about the forward, but seemingly, none of those things were true.

She’d been nothing but cold, and hateful towards you, since the moment you met, as if she hated you more than anything in the world.

“Yeah, I just don’t know why they drafted me HERE of all place.” You growl, the forward snorting.

“Maybe they just didn’t want you around anymore?” She snarls and you laugh.

“It’s funny, I heard SOOOOOO many good things about you before I got here, looks like it was all nothing but bullshit.”

Alex smirks, taking a step closer to you.

“No, it isn’t, if you weren’t so infuriating, maybe we’d get along.”

Your eyes narrowed as you stomped towards the bench, sending Alex Morgan one final glare over your shoulder before snorting.

“As if.”

***********************************************************************

Alex Morgan was getting on your every nerve, the sight of the woman making your snarl.

You wouldn’t lie, the woman was INCREDIBLY attractive, just because you hated her guts didn’t mean you were blind.

It was soon after, that you found yourself lusting for her, despite the way she treated you, you couldn’t help to think what it would be like to have her pinned beneath you, to have that power over her, with her consent of course.

But you knew that would never happen, she was with Servando Carrasco, still though you couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have that power, to have her at your mercy.

“Hey!” You jump, your eyes locking with Alex Morgan’s cold blues.

“What?” You growl, the woman rolling her eyes.

“We’re running drills.” She nods her head towards the remainder of the team who are lining up, a sigh leaving you as you make your way passed her, your shoulder bumping hers.

“Watch it.” She says, her teeth bared and you smirk.

“What are you going to do about it Morgan?” You ask, the woman’s blue orbs raking down your front, pausing on the apex of your thighs before her eyes meet yours.

She huffs, pushing her way passed you, joining your teammates, your brows furrowing as your eyes drop to the bulge in your shorts.

It was no secret to literally anyone that you were intersex, almost everyone in the NWSL accepting you for who you were, but it looked like, there was one person who didn’t and that was Alex Morgan.

***********************************************************************

No matter how much you infuriated her, the feelings she had for you never dissipated, the thought of shoving you into a back room at the practice center and riding you senselessly creeping into the back of her mind.

She was married, she shouldn’t be feeling the way she was, but every time you smirked, or challenged her, she got embarrassingly aroused, and she couldn’t do anything about it.

Sex with Servando in no way lessened her want for you, something she, OF COURSE, didn’t reveal to her husband.

She rolls her eyes, her blue orbs meeting your Y/E/C’s.

“Problem Morgan?” You ask, your eyes running down her front as you make your way towards the bench and grab your things.

“Yeah, there is.” She says, your brows furrowing as she nods to the practice field.

You scoff, dropping your bag back onto the bench.

“Listen, I’ve had enough of these, after practice, practices.” You bite, watching as your teammates leave the field until you’re the only two left.

“Well, it isn’t my fault you’re falling so far behind.”

Your nostrils flair, your eyes falling to the curve of her ass as she walks by.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked spending time with me.”

Alex snorts loudly.

“Yeah, you wish.”

You hum, making your way towards her.

“I think you do. There’s something about me you just can’t stop thinking about, isn’t there?” You ask, her throat bobbing.

“What is it, Alex? Do you just hate me?” You ask, the woman turning on her heels with a scowl.

“You’re so infuriating.” She says, her hands balling into fists.

“And what are you going to do about it?” You say, your lips curling in a snarl.

Alex glances around momentarily before grabbing the front of your shirt, tugging you towards one of the many buildings nearby.

“What the fuck, let me go!” You growl, trying halfheartedly to loosen her grasp, but your curiosity leads you to allow her to pull you along until you’re in a random room inside the facility.

“What the hell are you doing?” You ask, watching as she locks the door behind her before making her way towards you.

Your eyes widen when her lips slam into yours, the kiss hungry, and lustful.

You kiss back with no sense of hesitation, roughly pushing her back against the wall, your tongue pushing its way into her mouth.

The kiss is nothing but tongues and teeth, a groan crawling up your throat when Alex palms you through your shorts.

Your lips leave hers in favor of settling on her neck, placing wet and sloppy kisses to her pulse point.

“Don’t even think about it.” She pants, as if reading your mind, the thought of sucking a purple bruise into her neck creeping into your mind.

You smirk, your tongue running along her neck.

“Wouldn’t want your husband to find out.”

She growls loudly, roughly shoving you back against the opposite wall, and against a nearby table, its contents falling to the floor.

“Shut up.” She says, her hand roughly making its way into your shorts and boxers before settling on your somewhat hard member, your breath shuddering as she gives it a rub.

You lean your head backwards as she roughly rubs you, the woman’s hand moving rapidly beneath your shorts until you’re fully erect.

She’s about to shuck your shorts off when you turn the tables, the small of her back meeting the table as your lips meet hers.

“Oh.” She sighs when your hand slips into her shorts, bypassing her panties, your fingers drawing small, merciless circles against her clit.

“You’re so wet.” You whisper, nibbling on her earlobe, reveling in the sounds leaving her open mouth.

It isn’t long before your fingers slip inside her, the woman sighing against your neck as you pound into her.

She throws her head back with a moan.

“You like that?” You ask and she nods, bouncing on your fingers.

You smirk, your fingers slipping out of her, Alex whimpering when you bring your fingers to your lips and suck them clean.

“We both know it isn’t my fingers you want.” You say as you tug at the waistband of her shorts.

She nods, and in a split second her shorts and underwear are on the carpeted floor, the woman kicking them off across the room.

Soon, your own shorts are on the floor, your boxers following soon after.

The forward’s hand settles on the hard appendage between your legs.

“Make yourself useful and fuck me.” She snarls, shoving you backwards again, this time, your back meeting the floor considering your boxers and shorts are around your ankles.

She’s immediately on top of you, her core grinding against your bare cock.

“Fuck.” You groan, your hips arching as she grinds feverishly into you.

Before you realize, she’s got your hardness in her hand, lining it up with her entrance.

You quickly roll the two of you over, the woman groaning in annoyance.

“You’re always in charge Morgan, it’s MY turn.” You say, and with one swift motion you line yourself up and thrust slowly into her.

She cries out, her walls thrumming around you as you thrust into her, the woman’s breath hitching with each rapid thrust.

“You’re so tight.” You groan, your cock thrumming in pleasure as you pound into her, your thighs slapping loudly together.

“Oh god.” She moans, wrapping her legs around your middle as she cries out, the feeling in her stomach that had been building and building nearly teaming over.

She'd wanted you for so long, and now that she had you, she couldn't help but moan shamelessy, your cock slipping in and out of her rapidly.

Her nails scratch your back painfully, but you don’t care, the pain heightening your pleasure.

“You want to come on my cock?” You ask, the woman rapidly nodding as your thrusts increase in speed, your thighs slapping together even louder.

It isn’t long before she stiffens, the woman crying out, so loud that you hope the building is empty, because anyone nearby would’ve heard her cries.

She convulses wildly, her walls clamping down around you, her nails digging deep ridges into your back.

“I’m gonna come.” You moan, preparing to pull out of the woman whose legs tighten around you.

“Come inside me.” She begs, her chest rising and falling heavily.

Your eyes widen, a whimper leaving you when she purposely clenches around you.

You growl, thrusting into her wildly the woman crying out again, still sensitive from her first orgasm and chasing her second.

A beat passes before you groan loudly into her neck, jets of your seed shooting into her, the woman moaning loudly as she climaxes yet again, her walls clamping down around you as you feel her with your come.

You tremble, a few more jets of come spewing from your tip and into the woman before stopping.

You pant heavily, your full weight on the woman beneath you as you come down from your high.

Alex breathes heavily, remaining still beneath you for a beat before shoving you off, your flaccid cock slipping out of her, the mess between her legs coating her thighs.

You smirk, rolling over and pushing yourself upwards before making your way towards your own clothes.

Alex swallows hard, the realization that she’d just cheated on her husband hitting her like a ton of bricks.

Suddenly, you’re turned around, your back roughly meeting the wall, Alex’s face inches from your own.

“Don’t tell ANYONE about this.” She growls and you chuckle, your lips splitting in a grin.

“Oh, I won’t.” You say, wiggling your eyebrows and she groans before bypassing you and moving out of the room.

You sigh, leaning back against the wall with a smirk, your eyes fluttering shut.

You knew you should feel guilty, Alex Morgan was married, but you didn't, as bad as that sounded.

Though Alex was married, you knew she’d want to do this again, call it intuition, but you knew you’d be seeing much more of Alex Morgan naked in the coming months, you just wondered what the world had in store for the two, and when Alex would be dragging you into that same room again.

#uswnt x reader #alex morgan x reader #i decided to post a surprise fic but idk how people will feel about it... a bit nervous tbh #sequel or nah?

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royalinkblot · 2 months ago

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Wings of Home

In an alternate 21st-century world where the skies are still dominated by fighter jets and adrenaline, the rules of biology have shifted—men can carry life, and love flies in any direction it chooses.

Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell never imagined he’d trade afterburners for baby bottles. Yet here he was, cradling two squirming bundles of energy in a quiet San Diego beach house he shared with Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, former Top Gun admiral, and the love of his life.

Their children—Ace and Nikola—had inherited Maverick’s restless spirit and Iceman’s razor-sharp calm. At five, they already argued like co-pilots in a storm. Nikola wanted to be a pilot, just like her dads. Ace, on the other hand, was obsessed with engines, often disappearing into the garage with a wrench twice his size.

Ace, five years old and a whirlwind of mischief, was every bit his father’s son. He had Maverick’s wild grin and an uncanny ability to find danger in the most innocent of activities. Nikola, his twin sister, was thoughtful, precise, and already questioned the mechanics of the world like a tiny engineer. She reminded Tom of himself—focused, unshakable, with eyes that saw everything

It hadn’t been an easy journey. The pregnancy had shocked Maverick more than any dogfight. He’d grounded himself reluctantly, worried the Navy wouldn’t understand. Iceman, ever the quiet force, had stood by him, shielding them both from the storm of public scrutiny.

Now, years later, Maverick looked out at the backyard, where Ace was trying to teach Nikola how to do a barrel roll—on the grass.

“Tom,” Maverick called from the kitchen, smiling. “They’re going to kill each other.”

Iceman walked in, coffee in hand. “Nah. They’re just practicing teamwork.”

Maverick chuckled. “Is that what we called it in flight school?”

Tom kissed him softly on the cheek. “Something like that.”

Out there, the world still raced with sonic booms and tight turns. But in here, in this quiet slice of an extraordinary world, Maverick had found something he'd never expected—his best mission yet.

Fatherhood.

Maverick stood by the window, sipping coffee, watching the twins in the backyard. Ace was building a ramp out of beach chairs. Nikola was supervising with a look that clearly said, this is a terrible idea, but I’ll help anyway.

“Tom,” he called, grinning. “Ace is about to launch himself into orbit.”

Iceman entered, wearing his favorite Navy sweatshirt, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well, at least Nikola reinforced the base.”

Maverick turned to him, eyes softening. “How’d we get so lucky?”

“You broke every rule,” Iceman said. “And I backed you up. Like always.”

Maverick leaned into him. “Yeah. But this? Us? The kids? This isn’t luck. This is the best kind of flight plan—unpredictable, but worth every second.”

Outside, Ace shouted, “Three… two… one!” and launched off the ramp with a war cry. He landed in the sand, laughing. Nikola clapped exactly twice, then went to help him up.

Maverick watched them, heart full. He’d chased speed, defied death, and flown higher than most dared dream. But nothing—no Mach speed or kill streak—matched the way Ace looked when he laughed, or the quiet determination in Nikola’s eyes.

This was his top mission.

And he wouldn’t change a single thing.

Chapter two

#idea dump #short draft #this has been in my mind for ages #icemav #original work #top gun

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flemingsfreckles · 1 year ago

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Be a Good Teammate pt.3

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

Read Part 1, Part 2

Preview: You and Jessie face off in the NWSL

Warnings: very minor injury, bloody nose

WC: 3.6k

A/N: okay so I sort of lied, this was supposed to be the part where they grab dinner but then I sat down to write it and it was going to be way too long for one part, so here’s part 3. Part 4 will be the dinner, I promise.

A short day later and here you were, lined up in the tunnel, staring at the back of Nikki’s head while you shook out your legs, alternating side to side. You hated standing in the tunnel before a game, it gave you too much time to think. Thinking about all the details, all the moves, all the plays. You easily got into your own head, you worked yourself up. Even though you knew all those feelings would disappear as the game started, you couldn't shake the feelings. This time, it was especially bad, the words of your coach running through your mind. You couldn't let her down, you had promised you’d have your act together, and you did, you thought. Practice yesterday was a little rocky but you were back to playing closer to yourself, it felt comfortable again.

You heard the noise of boots against the concrete and you saw Sinc walk up, leading the rest of her team to line up next to yours. You watched the back of the first three players walk by following in line before you recognized the back of Jessie’s head. She ends up stopping only slightly in front of you. Keeping your head forward, you let your eyes wander over to her, not wanting to make it obvious you were looking over at her to the players behind you. Looking up and down you take in her frame for the first time since in San Diego. As if she can feel your eyes burning a hole through the back of her head you see her begin to turn in your direction. Not wanting her to see that you had been watching her, you snap your head down, looking at the floor and pretending to shake out your ankle again.

You pick your head back up but keep your eyes glued to the back of Nikki’s head. You can see in your peripheral that Jessie’s head is still turned toward you. Giving in, you turn slightly instantly making eye contact with her. The eye contact only lasts a moment as she spins back to face forward and you do the same.

Both captains begin walking forward, you follow in line through the tunnel before splitting off to each side of the pitch. You line up, stand through the national anthem, take your starting XI photo and then stand around as the captains meet with the officials.

“Are you and Jess friends again?” Jordyn asked as you both stood watching the officials talk with Sinclair and Fishlock.

“I don’t know, we've talked a bit recently, but friends I don't know.” Yes you wanted to sit here and tell Jordyn that you were friends but you didn't know how Jessie felt about calling you friends again so you weren't going to assume you were. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason, she mentioned you talked with her after the gold cup game and then just saw you two doing weird staring in the tunnel.”

“I wasn't staring.” You try to defend yourself but Jordyn begins heading to her pitch location, you follow running to the far side of the pitch. You look across the pitch to the other side, seeing Jessie standing across from you, you should not be surprised but it just kicked in that you'd be marking her most of the game, again.

The first half of the game goes about as smooth as you could hope, you feel like yourself again playing. That isn't to say the game itself is easy, Jessie was keeping you on your toes, most of the time you were able to keep up with her, only once letting her get a perfect long pass, leading to a goal. The score was 1-0 in favor of Portland as you headed into the locker room.

The mood of your teammates varied, some of them frustrated, some annoyed, others showing little to no emotion as you entered the locker room. You couldn't help but feel a bit out of place, you were feeling satisfied, dare you say a little proud of your performance, Portland is a good team, you were keeping up for the most part. Specifically you had been playing like you knew you could. Your teammates were spread across the locker room stretching, snacking, talking to each other, you took the break to sit down off to the side, sipping from a gatorade. Your coach came walking over, stopping in front of your cubby.

“Are you doing alright today?” She kept her voice low, out of ear shot of any of your fellow players.

“Yeah, I feel like myself again.” You're hoping she noticed as well and that she wasn't about to break the news that you'd be subbed out for the second half, a small pit of nerves starting to grow in your stomach.

“It looks like it, you're doing well, I know Fleming can be hard to mark, not much you could do on the long ball. I just still wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

“I’m good.” She doesn’t say anything else to you, turning away to go talk with the other coaches. You continue to keep to yourself, waiting for the rest of halftime to be over.

You head out on the pitch and the game starts back up again. In the same fashion that Jessie had, a couple minutes in you're able to get the ball away from her and enough clearance to send it long toward the goal, bouncing off the head of Jordyn and into the goal. You run, celebrating in the arms of Jordyn and Alana.

The game continues on, not much excitement, no goal scoring chances being made by either team. The ball goes out off the foot of your teammate. The ball is thrown in, bouncing up off a Portland player sending it high in the air in your direction. In an attempt to knock it to a teammate you jump, Jessie having the same idea, also jumps. Her body crashes into yours, her head coming into contact with your face as you both come down. Upon your feet coming back to the ground you drop to your knees, hand covering your nose as the pain makes your eyes begin to water. The ball no longer in your section of the field Jessie doesn't move far from you. She places her hand on your back and sends a shout to the official to get them to pause play.

“I’m so sorry.” You hear her say, you don't see her as your eyes are clamped shut in an attempt to ease the pain coming from your nose.

You hear the whistle and before you know it the training team is kneeling next to you, trying to pull your hand off of your face. You only open your eyes when they start talking to you, asking if you're okay. You glance at your hand, seeing the trails of blood running down your palm and dripping into the grass. You’re handed a water bottle and told to take a sip, you do before spitting it out, the flavor tasting like metal. You get handed a wipe to clean up your hands, nose, lips, and chin where the blood had covered.

The training staff make you sit back on your butt as they continue to look at you. One member of the staff feels up and down your nose, he comments that it doesn't feel broken which you are grateful for, you didn't want to deal with a crooked nose or needing surgery. Rolls of gauze are shoved into your nose and an ice pack is being pushed onto your face causing more pain as they have you hold your head back but you're not going to complain. Now standing over you is Quinn, the rest of the team gathered by the bench chatting. You catch a glimpse of Jessie in the Portland huddle, her head still turned back toward you watching you be tended to.

“Are you good to stand up?” The trainer to your right asks, she holds out more gauze to you, you take it, placing the bloodied gause from your nose into her gloved hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just some pain.” You stand up with the assistance of Quinn and the trainers. They hold on to you, pulling you off to the side of the pitch.

“You can’t go back in while you're actively bleeding.”

“I know.” You roll your eyes, hating that rule right now. The pain was bad but it’s not like it was your legs or something essential to playing. You stay standing as you wait, swapping out your gauze once more, less and less blood coming out of your nose. Your team returns onto the pitch, the game resuming. It’s hard having to stand and watch, especially as your team is down a player, tied with only a few minutes to go.

Being down a player does not go in your team's favor as Portland is able to move the ball up the field, slotting it past your keeper and into the goal, taking the lead.

You watch for another two minutes before you take out the gauze in your nose, not replacing it this time as the bleeding has stopped. You turn to the trainer, letting him look at your nose one last time.

“You’re good, no more blood. You're probably going to have two black eyes when you wake up tomorrow though.” The trainer informs you as he takes the ice pack and gauze from you.

You thank him quickly before running and getting the attention of the official to confirm you could re-enter the game. She nods you on and you take off across the pitch. The game only had a few minutes left in regular play. Those minutes end and you now have 8 minutes of stoppage to play through, probably 5 of those being due to your nose. Your team tries to tie it up, having a few shots on goal but to no success as the final whistle blows.

Instead of immediately going to tell the other team ‘good game’, you head over to the bench, grabbing another ice pack to hold to your face, your nose still throbbing. Ice pack in hand and pressed to your face you start making your way over to some of the Portland players, first seeing your fellow US teammates, then making your way to the other players, most of them asking how your nose is. You tell everyone its fine, adding that it's hopefully not broken.

Once you've talked with the majority of Portland and had your own teammates check in on you, you see Jessie standing with her fellow Canadians from both her team and yours. You haven't yet gotten to talk with Jessie, congratulate her on the assist and the well played game. Not wanting to interrupt her conversation with Quinn, Jordyn, Sinc, and Janine you just stand off to the side, trying not to make it obvious that you are waiting for her.

Jessie notices you standing alone, she excuses herself from her national teammates, stating she needs to go apologize.

“Hey.” Jessie approaches you, a sympathetic smile on her face. “How’s the nose?” She gestures to the ice pack you're holding.

“It hurts.” You state the obvious looking back at her. “They don't think it's broken though so that's good.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.” She apologizes for the second time today.

“It's fine Jessie, seriously don't worry about it, we both went for the ball.” You know she wouldn't intentionally have hit you, even if you were no longer friends, she wasn't like that. “Now if it was broken, I’d feel different.” You joke at her.

“You’ll probably have a nice black eye or two tomorrow eh?”

“That's what I’ve been told.” You hoped that everyone's statements wouldn't be true but you knew you were likely to wake up with a shiner, feeling the under of your eyes already a bit swollen. You both stand there, letting silence creep up, not knowing what to say next. You take the ice pack off your face, holding it in your hand as it is losing its temperature. Jessie takes a sip from her water bottle, just looking at you.

“Hey are we getting a UCLA alumni jersey swap?” The silence between you is broken and you both turn to see the Thorns social media manager standing in front of you, a large camera around his neck. You look down at your jersey, checking if any blood had gotten on it earlier in the game, thankfully there isn't any. Not knowing what to say you turn back to look at Jessie.

“I mean we can, if you want?” Shrugging her shoulders as she says it, it appears she doesn’t care either way. Part of you wishes she did care, you want her to want to swap jerseys with you.

“Why not?” Agreeing, you move one hand to the collar of your shirt, the other to your back pulling it up and over your head. Jessie does the same only she pulls hers from the bottom causing it to turn inside out. She goes to hand it to you and realizes it’s inside out, quickly taking it back as she twists it to be right.

You watch her carefully as she manipulates the fabric, you couldn’t help it. Her toned stomach and shoulders on display without her shirt, the way her forearm muscle popped out as she worked to fix the shirt. You hear the click of the camera and realize it’s going to be obvious you were staring in the photo. You glance away not needing any more evidence of your crush.

Jessie reaches out, this time with her jersey the right way and you pass her yours. You both grab the tops of them, holding them out in front of you to display each other's name and number. Once the photographer takes a few photos you turn back toward Jessie, bunching up the shirt before putting it over your head and your arms in. She does the same with your shirt. You’re hit with the smell of Jessie. Sure it was mixed with the smell of her sweat but it still smelled just like her. It reminded you of being in college, even the sweat part, you had spent plenty of time together you both drenched in sweat that it brought fond memories to the surface.

Memories of laying on the field after practice just enjoying the sun, driving together to and from practice, windows down in the car, nights spent studying in hotel room floors on away trips, all of the memories of you and her, all attached to that smell.

“Thanks girls.” The camera man turns away walking over to where Jessie's teammates were starting to make their way around and into the locker room.

“I should probably go.” Jessie turns to see her teammates heading in.

“Yeah of course.” You debate telling her you'll see her later for your dinner plans but decide against it, not wanting to bring it up on the spot.

You turn to head to your own locker room. You sit through a quick team meeting, which consists of a quick recap of the game, where everyone did well and where there needs to be improvement. Your coach informs you that she’s canceling practice for the following morning, wanting everyone to have the day to recover and take a break. A few of the players begin to make arrangements to travel home that night no longer having an obligation to stay in Portland for an extra day. Your roommate was one to decide to leave, meaning you'd have a quiet hotel room to come back to at the end of the night. The meeting ends and everyone scatters, some girls going to get showers, some packing up, some going to begin their recovery.

You head to the physio room, they look over your nose again, confirming that they don't believe it's broken. You get handed some pain meds, told to keep icing it on and off, and to meet back with the trainers tomorrow before you head home. You hop off the table, and grab another ice pack on your way back to the changing room.

Returning to your cubby, you start grabbing your towel and clothes to shower and change. You curse yourself earlier for wearing jeans as your pregame outfit. As you grab your clothes out of your bag you see your phone light up. Grabbing it you begin reading the texts.

Jessie (USA): Any chance I could get a raincheck on going out?

The text from Jessie stared back at you. The excitement drains from your body, your heart feeling heavy as you read it over and over.

Jessie (USA): Sorry to cancel our plans, just not feeling going out after the game, would much rather throw on sweats and sit on the couch.

You understood, of course you did, having just ran around with her the whole 90, you can see why she’s tired. Your legs are starting to feel tight, you always run more than usual when you’re marking Jessie who seems to easily cover 95% of the field. The weather probably didn’t help either, no one wants to get dressed up to go out after running around in the cold all afternoon. You couldn’t lie, sweatpants sounded perfect right about now.

Jessie (USA): Can we do takeout at my place or something instead?

Relief washes over your body as you realize she still wants to see you.

Jessie (USA): Sorry for all the texts.

“Yo Fleming get your head out of your phone, I’m talking to you.” Your head snaps up at the mention of Jessie’s name. You see Jess Fishlock staring at you. You look at her confused.

“What?” You’re more responding to the fact that she just referred to you as Fleming and less asking for her to repeat what she had said to you previously. She grabs her own jersey top, giving it a tug before pointing at your chest, you connect the dots seeing why she called you what she did, you’re still wearing Jessie’s shirt.

“We’re going out, we lost but we still want to enjoy the trip, are you in?” She repeats her question to you, a couple other members of the team now watching you awaiting your response.

“No, I actually have plans.” A collection of ‘ooo’ and a couple whistles come from your teammates around you.

“Must be a hot date with whoever she’s been texting so damn much.” Jess’ wife, Tziarra, teases.

“She was texting someone on the bus ride too, smiling at her phone and everything.” You shoot a glare at Alana who shouts out from across the dressing room. Your face is now starting to blend in to match the red thorns jersey.

“It’s not a date, I’m just catching up with Jessie.”

“Hard to argue that it's not a date when you're wearing her jersey. Just saying.” Tziarra comments, her eyebrows raising with a hinting look.

Not responding, you take the collar of the Thorns jersey and rip it over your head, throwing it with some force into your locker.

“Not a date, we’re not even really friends.” You emphasize throwing your hands out in display that you no longer had her shirt on.

You grab your towel and phone, opening it to respond to Jessie.

You: Yeah that's fine, I wouldn’t want to be having to ask our server for a bag of ice every 20 minutes anyway.

You put your phone back into your cubby and head to the shower. You take a quick shower, rushing a bit, wanting to get out of the stadium and back to the hotel so you could put on sweats that you had waiting for you. You hop out, wrapping yourself in a towel and head to get changed.

Jessie (USA): Do you still like Thai food? I know a pretty good place.

You: Yeah that's great. We're headed back to the hotel in the next few and then I can head your way.

You put your phone back and let your towel fall, change into your clothes and then sit down waiting for the rest of your team to be ready to leave.

It only takes a few minutes until everyone is walking out to the bus. Thinking you'll have a seat alone again you prop your legs up again. Your lounging state only lasts a minute before Fishlock is picking up your legs, throwing herself down in the seat next to you.

“Not friends and not a date huh?”

“I told you earlier no, She and I just got back into contact.” Trying your best to stop the teasing that you fear will never end from your team.

“Where are you going to dinner? Is she taking you somewhere romantic?”

“We’re not going out anywhere, we're doing takeout.” Jess lets out a laugh at your response, quickly covering her own mouth.

“So not a date, you're just going over to her place? Whatever you say.” You see her eyes roll. She leans over and whispers. “Hope you packed some cute underwear.” You hear the comment but it doesn't comprehend what she was implying.

“She has a girlfriend.” The only words you think to respond, not having anything else to defend yourself with. You prop your legs back up on her since she was the one to move them, if she wanted to sit there she'd have to deal with it. You grab your phone seeing Jessie had sent you her address and a message to just let her know when you had arrived. You feel nerves begin to rise in your stomach, you're not sure why though, like you said, she has a girlfriend, it's not a date.

#jessie fleming #portland thorns #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #woso imagine #woso x reader

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