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samkerrworshipper · 1 year

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all yours | leah williamson x reader x lia wälti

when r finds out that their two bestfriends (and secret crushes) have gotten together on a trip they go into a meltdown of feeling left out and unloved - lw2 sort them out and show them just how loved they are by the two of them

just fluff, angst, confessions of love, lack of taking care of themselves and zero editing or proof reading because it’s 1am rn and i have to be at school at 8 ☠️

Lia and Leah. The indomitable couple, that had very quickly become the talk of the soccer community. They were a power couple, the swiss and english captain surprising the whole women's football community when announcing their relationship. You were happy for them, the two women were your best friends in the whole world, so when the photos from their recent trip during a international break to Ibiza had popped up you should have been ecstatic, but for some reason you couldn’t help but feel a pang of something else.

The two women were your best friends in the entire world, but you also harboured feelings for both of the women, and now that they were romantically involved you couldn’t help but feel a little bit gutted at the idea that when they returned to Arsenal for the season it would be the two of them together as a couple, and not the three of you as best friends. You were obviously happy for them, sending them a flurry of congratulations and expressions of your happiness about them getting together, but you couldn’t help the feeling in your gut that was almost making you jealous of what the two women had.

You spent the few days left of the break confined to your flat, in too much of a slump to go any further from your bed then to your home gym that was in your spare bedroom.

When the break ended you forced yourself to gather up the guts to return to the Arsenal training ground, pulling together every part of you just to make it to training. When you walked into the change rooms they were already full of your teammates, all of them in various states of undress and engaging in a series of activities. Leah and Lia were the first people to recognise your presence, calling out for you to come and sit with them over near Leah’s cubby, but you ignored them, walking straight towards your own. You didn’t even make it to the locker though before Katie was sliding down on the bench directly in front of you, stopping you from slinging your kit bag into your cubby.

“What’s got you down today, y/l/n?”

Her voice was so playful, everything that you normally loved about the woman, but today you had no tolerance. You’d hardly slept, you’d been too tired to make your morning coffee or breakfast so you were an uncaffeinated grump.

You shoved Katie out of the way, with a quick push, moving her far enough out of your way that you were able to slide your bag into the cubby and begin to strip off your tracksuit and hoodie so you could throw on your training gear.

“Wow, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or was it somebody else's bed?”

It was in Katie’s nature to be annoying, she was one of your best friends, an older sister to you in a lot of ways and normally you had quite a lot of tolerance for her prodding, but today your sleep deprived form wasn’t having any of it.

“Fuck off Katie.”

Your voice was cutthroat, as you tugged your Arsenal hoodie over your head and replaced it with your training kit. You then followed with toeing off the runners you had on and sliding your track pants down your legs, letting them pool at your ankle before stepping out of them and throwing them into your cubby.

“Ooh, she’s fiery today, you can tell me darl, who’s the lucky lady or lass?”

You rolled your eyes, biting down on your tongue to stop you from saying anything seriously offensive to the older woman, for your own safety.

You pulled your training shorts up and then sat down on the bench, pulling your socks and cleats out of your bag.

“Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but nobody, so go fuck with somebody else because you are getting jack out of me this morning, fuck off.”

It was a lot of expletives, something unusual for you. You didn’t like to swear, in fact off the pitch you rarely swore, but today you felt so on edge, so out of place. There were tears brimming behind your eyes, tears that would never fall but burned your eyes all the same. Katie looked like she was going to say something else but Kim became your saving grace, getting in between the two of you and tugging Katie over to her own cubby, leaving you on your own.

You made quick work of your socks and cleats, slipping them easily over your feet, the part you struggled with was your laces, your hands shaking too badly to even get a grip on the fine pieces of polyester. It was embarrassingly humbling, your brain very quickly becoming aggravated at your inability to complete the one basic task. You glared down at your laces, ready to curse them out as well when your hands were grabbed by someone else's. You froze immediately, looking up to locate the source of the hands that were binding your hands from continuing to fail at the task they had.

You frowned a little bit at Viv. Aware, that the older woman probably wasn’t exactly happy with your treatment of your teammate. She didn’t say anything though, didn’t reprimand you, just pushed your hands up to rest on the bench and began the task of tying up your laces.

“What’s up?”

Viv’s words were hushed, so nobody else in the locker room could hear them beside you. Her words were soft, genuine, caring.

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

Viv rolled her eyes, finishing your left foot and then moving onto tying up your right one.

“You aren’t very good at lying, jochie.”

Your jaw locked at Viv’s words, watching her finish your left boot, as soon as her hands had left your feet you shot up off the bench, pushing her away as well and marching to the change room door, making your way out towards the training ground before Viv had the opportunity to ask you about your feelings again.

You trained like shit. Your sleep deprivation and lack of energy clear in your actions, you were sloppy, inaccurate and overall just poor in performance. You were approached multiple times by both Leah and Lia, as well as Kim and Jonas, who all seemed a little bit shocked by the shell of a player you were on the field. Before the break you’d been on top of your game, you were unstoppable on the pitch, scoring goals and assists. Your training session hardly reflected that though, on the pitch you looked like a rookie, you were playing like a rookie. You avoided them all as much as you could, especially the couple.

By the end of training you were rushing off the pitch, getting changed as quickly as possible and then getting to your car in record time, avoiding anybody who got in your way.

The couple were extremely shocked by your behaviour, the two of them sharing glances throughout the whole of training and in the change rooms afterwards, the both of them equally perplexed by your behaviour. On the drive home they shared similar thoughts, the both of them were equally worried about you and equally confused about your behaviour.

The next few days only got worse for you. Your lack of sleep and nutrition were affecting you even more and none of the girls came anywhere near you in the locker rooms, having observed Katie, Viv and Beth all be on the flip side of your outbursts when the three of them tried to push you. It wasn’t pretty and you knew that you were getting very close to getting a proper dressing down from Kim, your days were becoming numbered and you knew that if you didn’t pick up your act you were going to get a serious sit down.

You just couldn’t find it in you to care, all you could think about was the two women that had a few weeks ago been your best friends in the entire world. They were everywhere, at training, at team dinner, at team movie night. Everywhere you went they were there, so you found solace in your house which was the only space you had to yourself. The two women had been texting you, calling you, even daring to show up to the door of your flat, spending ten minutes knocking on the door. It had been ten agonising minutes in which you’d buried yourself in your bedsheets, patiently awaiting the two women to lead. Your avoidance had been going reasonably well, you weren’t in their gym group so they didn’t really have an excuse to approach you then, your cubby was on the other side of the locker room and you actively avoided them in training sessions.

It was going as fine as fine could go, you totally weren’t crying yourself to sleep every night thinking of the two women, or scrolling through both of their feeds everyday and looking at the old pictures of you three from merely a few weeks ago. It was all going fine until they cornered you in the locker rooms after a particularly rough training session.

It shouldn’t have been a rough session, Katie had been put on you and she was a rough defender but you were faster and more agile, but not with your sleep deprivation and malnutrition. Every time you got the ball she came at you, laying tackles that you would normally walk off easily, but today it had all hurt more, all been so much rougher. The third tackle had you woozy and unable to walk in a straight line, so you’d been accompanied off the field onto the sidelines where you’d resided for the rest of training.

When training had finished you’d disappeared into the change rooms, hoping that you would be able to slip out before everybody else as you’d done for the last week of training.

Instead though, when you were just finishing getting changed you were cornered by the couple, Leah pinning you down to the bench with her hands so you were unable to get up.

“You’ve been avoiding us.”

You kept your eyes on your feet, unable to look at the soft eyes of the two women.

“I’ve just been busy.”

It was a white lie, one you were sure that the two women saw right through.

“No you haven’t, you’ve been avoiding us and neither of us can figure out why.”

Leah’s words felt like a hot iron against your brain, the words branding into your skull.

Lia’s hand fell to your chin, pulling it up from your feet so you were forced to look at the couple.

“I haven’t been avoiding you.”

Leah rolled her eyes at you, the blonde woman not even acknowledging your blatant lie.

“Yes you have, and now you're avoiding it, you haven’t talked to us since before the break and you’ve clearly not been looking after yourself, so what’s up, y/n/n?”

You bit your lip, trying your hardest to pull your eyes from Leah but her hold on your chin making it hard.

“Fuck off will you?”

It was the same aggression you’d been hiding behind all week, the same aggression you’d been using to push everyone else out. It was malicious, cut throat, everything the two women knew you weren’t. You were hiding behind it as a coping mechanism, and they knew it. So whilst it worked at pushing the rest of your teammates out, it did nothing but make them more concerned about you, their hearts clenching at the way your muscles tensed against Leah’s hand and the way your face thrashed against her grip, she didn’t let go though, to scared that if she let go they’d never be able to get you back again.

“You know that I won’t sweet, we care about you too much, so what’s up, tell me, you know you can trust me.”

You shook your head against her hand, burning tears pooling in the corners of your eyes, tears that you refused to let fall, you were on emotional lock down, too scared to let a single one fall, because you knew that if you did it would just end up worse.

“Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off.”

Your words were murmured like a ritual, like a reminder to your brain that you needed to push them out, you needed to push them out so they could stay pushed out of your brain.

“Pushing us out isn’t going to work, bunny.”

Lia’s voice was softer in comparison to Leah’s, attempting to coax you into some kind of comfortable submission that would ice out the anger leaking from your body. She was the water to Leah’s fire.

“I’m fine.”

Leah rolled her eyes.

“I find that hard to believe,” Leah frowned at the little tinge of something roll across your face and her confrontation, “The bags under your eyes tell me that you haven’t slept properly in at least the last week, you’ve lost weight and you were so dizzy early that you looked like you hadn’t drunk water in a month, so you aren’t fine and your hiding it, which means your even less fine, so I’ll ask you once again what’s up?”

You finally managed to free your chin of Leah’s grip, standing up quickly from the bench and almost managed to slip past the two women but one of Lia’s muscular arms managed to catch you around the waist, securely bringing you to her side, holding you down against it.

“Not so fast liebling, Lee asked you a question and you are going to answer it.”

“Nothing’s up.”

It was clear that neither of the women believed you.

“Rightyo then, you’re coming home with us, Jonas’ orders.”

You frowned deeply again.

“No, I don’t have to go home with you, I have my own home, I am a fucking adult I don’t need you two babysitting me.”

You watched as Leah frowned steadily at you, picking up your bag and her own before nodding at Lia who began to tug you along behind them.

“If you want to play this weekend then you will come home with us, you’ve clearly not been taking care of your own health and until you do, you need supervision, call it babysitting if you’d like, I’d call it hanging out with your best friends but whatever works for you.”

You cowered slightly at the passive aggressive tone that Leah used towards you, her voice cutting deeply into your brain, leaving a deep enough impression for you to get the message that this decision had been made for you and you didn’t have a say in what was happening. So you let them lead you to Leah’s car, let Lia buckle you into the backseat and then slide in beside you and didn’t object as Leah started to drive you back towards her house.

Most of your nights and weekends had been spent at Leah’s house, a few weeks ago you two had been inseparable, you’d grown up together, the two of you inseparable Milton Keynes girls. When you’d moved away from home you’d been each other's first roommates, you’d always wanted more but you’d been too afraid to compromise your friendship. Then somewhere along your careers Lia had entered your friendship and the three of you had very quickly become inseparable. There had always been tension between the three of you, drunken kisses shared between all of you, handsy exchanges that you’d always pawned off on the two other women just being touchy. Apparently though they had been more than just touchy for each other, and you couldn’t help but feel a little bit left out, like they were experiencing a whole other level of your relationship that only the two of them would feel.

When you’d pulled up to Leah’s flat you’d felt a part of your stomach drop, the anxiety of having to be in a house with the two women setting in and making you feel sick. Lia’s hand had found it’s way to your knee cap, squeezing it slightly. When Leah parked her car the two of them exited the vehicle, Lia apparently being tasked with carrying all of your bags and Leah being tasked with getting you inside.

She’d walked around to your side of the car, unstrapping your seatbelt and pulling you up out of your seat by pulling you up by your armpits. You went limp against her, all of the emotions, all of the angry shields, all of the fakeness and disregard for your general health making you well and truly spent, your body had identified you were no longer in danger, no longer in a space where you had to put up shields and it had come to the conclusion that you now no longer had to do that. So you let Leah man handle you up the stairs, let her tug your shoes off at the door and drag you across her floorboards, until she managed to get to her couch and sit the both of you down on it.

She sat herself down first, getting herself situated on the lounge before laying you down in between her legs, so your head was resting steadily against her chest. Your body still in its mellowed out state, your brain floating in a sort of haze that you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Eventually Lia rejoined the two of you, freshly showered and dressed. She came bearing three cups of hot cocoa and slotted herself in between Leah’s legs and my own, criss crossing on top of my feet. The pressure felt good, relaxing, and calming. Lia passed me one of the ups and I took a tentative sip, the feeling of the warm chocolate slipping down my throat, nothing besides complete divinity.

“So, what’s really up, hm?”

Lia’s voice was as soft as silk, gliding through the room and falling gently upon your ears.

“Nothing’s up.”

Your voice was gruff in comparison, nothing close to anything that was happening in this room, your tone felt out of place, just like you felt in between the two. Like you were an unfit jigsaw piece.

“Honey, I don’t know why you feel like you need to lie to us, but you don’t, whatever it is we can sort it out, you know that we’d never judge you right?”

Lia’s words were so soft, so smooth, so calming and yet they did absolutely nothing to calm the feelings inside your soul, the feelings of complete yearning for the two women that now seemed completely forbidden.

“It’s stupid.”

You felt Leah’s head lean over your own, looking down at you from her place from above you, one of her eyebrows raised in questioning.

“Nothing you feel is stupid, bunny.”

The nickname bunny came from when you and Leah were kids. You’d been a fluff ball as a kid, a fluffy ball of blonde hair that had somehow ended up with Leah nicknaming you bunny. It had somehow stuck throughout your teenage years and your years at Arsenal, as much as it riled you up.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

You felt like a kid, with the two women looking down at you as if you were their child.

“Too bad, we are. Whatever it is has clearly taken a massive toll on your health and wellbeing and we can’t have that. It helps to talk, so talk to us, talk to us like you did a few weeks ago.”

You pushed yourself out of Leah’s arms, standing up in her living room and beginning to pace in front of the two women, your heels digging into the material of the carpet.

“You want to know what’s up? You two go to Ibiza for a week, a trip I would have gone on if I didn’t have family commitments. You come back and the two of you are fucking dating, you didn’t tell my anything, I didn’t even get a fucking phone call to say, guess what your two bestfriends have gotten together. It’s messing with my head, because we were all touchy and handsy, we all made out with eachother and I pawned it off as the three of us just being close, but turns out it wa just the two of you and I’m a fucking third wheel and now I just feel like you’re tugging me along because you feel bad for me, not because you actually give two shits about our friendship.”

Leah’s arms stopped you from pacing, making you realise that tears were now slowly dipping down your face at a steady rate. Leah tugged you back down into her arms, wrapping them both around you to secure you to her chest.

“Bunny, bunny, take deep breaths for me, it’s okay.”

You shook your head against her body, thrashing and pushing against her grip but she refused to let you go, not when she now knew how much she’d hurt you now.

“It’s not fine, it’s not fine, you two love each other and I love you both but you don’t love me, you don’t want me, not how I want either of you, not how I feel for either of you.”

You felt Leah take a deep breath from behind you, her own tears nor brimming in the back of her eyes, now beginning to feel the true depth of her and Lia’s actions.

“Bunny, we both love you so much, more than you would ever know and I’m so sorry you’ve felt this way, I’m so sorry that we never communicated anything with you. Me and Lia, we love you, we’ve always loved you, hell I’ve loved you since we were 5. The last few years, we’ve been trying so fucking hard to get you to realise, to get you to understand the magnitude of how much we love you. But you never did, the drunken kisses, the secret glances and touches, we thought it was all platonic for you and after a while, the two of us began to think that we were waiting for nothing, so in Ibiza we bit the bullet, we decided that we couldn’t wait around for a person who didn’t reciprocate our feelings. I am so sorry we never saw it, I’m so sorry that neither of us were confident enough to just ask you the question, but we’re going to work it out now, we’re going to make it all work out, I promise you.”

Your body relaxed fully against Leah’s, all the fight disappearing as Leah’s words sunk into your skin, stretching across your skin like a layer of silk.

Lia clambered her way up the sofa, squishing you between Leah and herself and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Liebling, it’s going to be okay, we’re going to sort this out, and Leah and I, we are going to spend every day making it up to you, everyday proving just how loved you are, ich verspreche.”

Everything fell into place for you, maybe everything wasn’t perfect right now, maybe there was still a lot of things the three of you had to work out, but you didn’t feel out of place anymore between the two women, you felt perfectly in place, like your jigsaw piece had finally feel into place.

#woso #woso community #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #lionesses #marry me rn #lia walti #leah williamson is mother #leah williamson is mom #leah williamson is boyf #golden retriever leah vibes #i love leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader x lia wälti #lia wälti #lia wälti imagine #lia wälti x reader

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corruptedcaps · 5 months

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Bitchy Besties

“Leave me alone Cory! This is weird and creepy! This is why we broke up over the summer! You can't do this, not as we are about to start our senior year tomorrow! For a computer genius you really are stupid sometimes!” Kate said as stomped away angrily from her ex boyfriend.

Kate had been eager to get started on her course work for the year that she came in a day early to prep but was rudely interrupted by her Cory her ex boyfriend who she had been dodging calls from all summer.

“Please Kate! I did this for you! I know you were against this plan from the start but you have to help me finish it now, it will change you life!” Cory pleaded with her while holding the length of hair extensions he had stolen from Tanya, the biggest bitch in school.

“I didn’t want you to do this! Even if I believed that you were right, that Tanya got her confidence, her meanness, her power from her hair extensions, why would I ever want that?” Kate said finally stopping to face him.

“Because she’s been your bully for years and if you can take that power from her then you can finally stand up to her.” Cory said with no ounce of insincerity.

Kate wasn’t buying it though, she knew he just got off on this ‘corruption fetish’. She had caught him one day jacking off to posts online from some woman called ‘Evie’. Each story had someone go from a loser into a slutty mean bitch like Tanya. Even now she could see his crotch twitch.

It was why they broke up. Cory got it into his mind that because Tanya wore extensions that they were somehow the source of her ‘bitchiness’. The whole thing was absurd to Kate and the stories she had read were filthy. She wished he would listen to her. That’s when it hit her. All of Evie’s stories that she had read had the men subservient to the women so if she could ‘transform’ then maybe she could tell him to leave her alone for good.

“Fine! Give me that stupid thing!” Kate said annoyed as Cory handed her the hair and then handed her a bag.

“Wait what’s all this?” She asked about the bag.

“Well I figured once you change you’ll want to be in something more Tanya’s style, so inside is a dress, jewelry, makeup, and shoes.” He said with a sick grin. Kate rolled her eyes.

“Fine but stay here, I’m getting changed in the bathroom.” She said and he looked sad that he wouldn’t see the transformation first hand.

Entering the bathroom she emptied the bag onto the counter and saw with disgust the tight slutty clothes he had chosen. Sighing she just made peace with what she was about to do, once she had this done she could move on with her life.

Stripping off her baggy clothes she poured herself into the slick leather pants and tight white top. Both surprisingly fit her well. She had never considered herself to be the same size as Tanya but then again she was used to dressing as if it was perpetual winter. Even her boobs looked pretty good in the top, it helped that she had developed early but hid them from the world.

Eyeing the jewelry next, she put on the hoop earrings and the necklace. She thought she would feel weighed down by it all, but it all felt remarkably light on her body. The necklace even drew the eye to her cleavage, as if by design.

Next she stepped into the high heel shoes which were bigger than anything she was used to. Taking her first few steps she felt unsteady but after about a minute she was a natural. She thought to herself that her years wearing soccer cleats must be helping her adapt quickly.

Her most daunting task were the fake nails and makeup. She hated makeup with a passion but she needed to do this so picked up the makeup brush and began applying a soft foundation. It reminded her of art class which she loved and imagined her face as a canvas. She gave herself a smoky eye, a bold lip, sharp eyebrows. She was actually impressed by it all. Her lips looked fuller, her blue eyes more piercing.

Snapping on the long fake nails was a breeze too. She never understood before how girls could do anything with their nails so long but as she took out her phone to take a quick selfie of her finished self she found the clicky clack of the nails against her phone screen strangely satisfying.

However before she took the picture she realized she was missing one thing, the main thing that this was all about. The hair. Picking up the long extensions, Kate was thankful that her and Tanya had the same shade of colour otherwise it would look odd.

Clipping it on, she quickly found it was hard to find where her own hair ended and the extensions began. Running her hand through it she couldn’t find the seam, it all felt the same.

According to all the filthy stories she had read this was the moment where the ‘evil’ part of her would take over or Tanya’s soul would corrupt hers. Instead she just broke out into a laugh. She couldn’t believe Cory actually believed this would do anything. When she had broken up with him she had been crest fallen about it but now she was glad she had.

“What a loser.” She muttered to herself as she stroked her hair. She did have to admit she felt kind of empowered being in the get up. As if she were like a super hero who transformed into their costume. Although she was dressed more like a baddie in every sense of the word. Now she just had to act the part.

Closing her eyes she remembered back to the Evie stories she had read and tried to channel the girls in them. She thought about Tanya and her walk, her posture, her sneer. If she was going to get Cory to stop bothering her for good she needed to be convincing.

Opening her eyes she put a hand on her hip and stared at her reflection with the same contempt she has seen in Tanya’s face a thousand times, like she had smelt something rotten. The makeup helped make her expression cold and cruel.

“You think you can just walk around here dressed like a bargain bin reject and not get bullied, haha you’re pathetic.” Kate said with pitch perfect bitchy tone followed by an evil grin that curled up naturally.

“You’re the new girl here so you don’t yet understand that I rule this place. I’m the queen bee. I’m the head bitch. I’m Kate…” she began to say but her own name felt weird. Kate wasn’t the name of a bullying bitch, it belonged to a kind and sporty girl who kept to herself. No she needed a new name for her new persona.

When the name came to her she knew she was ready. Taking one last look at herself, she gave herself a wink and strutted out of the bathroom.

The first thing Cory heard was the clip clop of her heels and so was drawn to looking at her feet first. His eyes travelled up her body and every inch closer to the top he found himself get harder. By the time he got to her face he was pitching a tent.

“Eww do you have a boner you creep?” Kate said in her fake bitchy tone but the disgust was all hers. She couldn’t believe she ever dated him.

“I’m sorry Kate you just look like, my god…” he said his mouth agape. Kate knew she needed to turn on the haughty superiority, someone like Tanya wouldn’t stand for this.

“Kate? Who the fuck is Kate? I’m Kayleigh and why are you even talking to me loser?” She snarled at him. He seemed to shrink in her presence, a fact that made Kayleigh strangely proud.

“I-I’m sorry Ka-Kayleigh I d-didn’t mean anything by…” he started but Kayleigh just rolled her eyes.

“D-d-d-dipshit. God you’re pathetic. Is this what the school has in terms of men? Don’t you ever bother me again you hear me? Now scram loser before I give you something to really stutter about.” Kayleigh said glaring at Cory who froze for a moment before running off down the hall. Kayleigh watched as he tried to hide his erection from her.

“Phew that outta do it.” She thought and dropped her bitchy stance, letting her shoulders slump. However what she heard next sent a shiver through her body.

“Impressive what you did to that little weasel.” Said a voice behind her that she knew belonged to Tanya. Reasserting her mean girl stance, Kate pivoted around to see Tanya leaning against a doorway.

This couldn’t have gone south quicker, Kate thought, here she was standing feet away from her bully, wearing her clothes, jewelry, makeup and shoes. Tanya strutted over to her like a predator. Inside Kate braced herself but Tanya stopped just in front of her.

“You know I caught him stealing from me recently? Glad someone made him realize what a twerp he is. Are you new here?” Tanya said eying Kate but seeing only Kayleigh. If Kate was going to get out of this unscathed she needed to continue to act like Kayleigh a little more.

“Yeah I am. Its Kayleigh. Daddy got a job here and we are scouting schools. I have to say that this one isn’t impressing me much.” Kayleigh said, the disgusted tone flowing effortlessly out of her mouth.

“Ugh tell me about it. I begged mommy and daddy to send me to Alpha prep but they wanted me to mingle with the ‘common’ kids.” Tanya said disdainfully.

“Alpha prep? Babe those uniforms would have looked bomb on your fabulous figure.” Kayleigh said flattering her enemy.

“Right? I had all these plans to modify it to make me the hottest bitch there but being queen of this dump does have its perks, like getting early access to test answers for the semester, otherwise I wouldn't be seen dead here on a weekend." Tanya said holding up a sheet of paper with various subjects listed.

“Totally. Being here on a Sunday is making my skin crawl.” Kayleigh sneered in a way that Tanya found familiar but enjoyable. She didn’t recognize her own sneer that Kayleigh was mimicking perfectly.

"Hey why don't you let me take you to the mall and I'll show you around the best stores and I can fill you in on all the juicy gossip. I can give you a better sense of this school than you can walking these dusty halls.” Tanya asked. This wasn’t what Kate had in mind, she knew this would just prolong her time as Kayleigh but she was finding herself not caring as much as she had before. A few hours of pretend wouldn’t kill her.

“Totes babe I was thinking the exact same thing.” Kayleigh said and Tanya practically grabbed her and locked arms with her.

“I’ll show you what fun two hotties like us can have. By the way I love your outfit, it’s totally my style.” Tanya smiled at her as she led Kayleigh out of the school away from her baggy clothes hidden in the bathroom, away from her identity as Kate.

To be continued…

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #self corruption #cc2024 #bitchybesties

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allaboutnayeli · 6 months

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the kitty surprise [t.rodman x reader]

prompt: trinity sneaks you two's cat to practice without you knowing.

author notes: this is probably trash 💔💔 not too much on me, writing is hurting my brain these days. enjoy it!

"why can't i?" trinity whines as she leans against the counter. the little white furry body of you two's cat, coco, in her hands. the woman was really trying to convince you to let her bring coco to practice today which was out of the question.

"where would she even be while we practice? what if she runs out onto the field and gets hurt? what if she scratches someone?"

"okay, okay. i get it, god," trinity says. stopping you from listing off more reasons on to why coco can't come along. "but you know she gets lonely, babe," your girlfriend pouts at you. moving closer to you as she holds up coco, "just look at this cute face."

the sight of coco and trinity's faces next to each other is an adorable sight, but not adorable enough for you to say yes. you giggle before placing a kiss on trinity's forehead than the cat beside her.

"she will be fine. now put her down and go get your bag so we can go," you move away from them. going off somewhere in the house to find your missing cleats. meanwhile trinity was hatching up a plan that she knew you would hate, but coco would love (she hopes).

the american player grabs some of the white cat's snacks before going over to where her bag was on the couch. "you just have to stay in here for like 20 minutes tops, okay, baby?" trinity baby talks to the cat. putting the bag of cat snacks open in her bag with coco following after. she worries all of the soccer items in the bag might make it uncomfortable for her furry baby, so quickly she grabs one of you two's small blankets that could hardly fit you both and stuff it inside. coco seemed to be just alright with this arrangement. snuggling up to the blanket before dozing off.

just as you come back into the living room, cleats in hand, trinity zips up her bag enough that you wouldn't be able to tell a cat was in there on the first glance.

"alright, let's go, babe," you say. moving towards the front door with trinity right behind you until you stop with your hand on the door knob. "forgot to say bye to coco," you try to move to go over to her cat tree in the dining room, but trinity stops you.

she speaks loudly (so that you can't hear how coco meows at the sound of her name being called) as she says, "uh.. actually she's.. shitting! yeah she's shitting and you know how long she takes." you look at her in confusion but just shrug it off since y'all don't have enough time to worry about that right now.

"whatever. let's go," and off you two went to practice.

now getting coco to practice wasn't that hard. the cat slept the time away in the backseat of the car while trinity and you sang along to your playlist. soon enough y'all came to the training facilities for the washington spirit. "you two are late!" andi shouts, leaving from her own car.

"hypocrite!" you shout back. giggling once andi puts up the middle finger at you. meanwhile trinity was trying to cover up the fact she was having a crisis; how was she supposed to sneak coco in? and where would she go? those two questions bounce around the american player's head as she takes your and hers bag out of the car. sticking her tongue out at you when you try to grab yours. "nope. princesses don't carry their own bags," trinity says.

you roll your eyes, hiding the bashful smile on your lips. you check the time on your phone before shaking your head, "whatever. we are already ten minutes late." trinity happily follows along after you. just grateful that you haven't noticed the little white furball that's trying to stick her head out of trinity's bag.

the moment you two get into the locker room you separate. you go off to change while trinity acts like she's trying to change. instead she was looking in her bag, making sure coco was okay. with you two being late the rest of the team was out of the locker room so trinity didn't have to do any explaining just yet.

"i'm going to let you out, okay? just stay right here and nobody's going to know," the american player whispers to coco. the cat just meows as she looks up at her owner. trinity gives her a few pets before letting her out of the bag. pulling out the blanket as well so it can cover the space in her cubby. "stay, okay?" she gives coco a kiss before pulling away. the white cat just lazily lays there. enjoying the warmth of the blanket combined with being in a space that smells like one of her favorite people. trinity closes the door of her cubby the moment ashley walks in.

"coach says hurry up or we are all running suicides," ashley says. those words got trinity to quickly change and head out of the locker room.

everything was going well and exactly to plan until break. trinity was laying her head on your legs as you two catch your breath. coach still made you two do suicides despite trinity coming out as fast as possible.

"i can't wait to go up against-" before you can even finish your sentence, someone was yelling out from the locker room.

"it's a cat in here!" one of the spirit players shouts. everyone else out on the practice field looks around in confusion, but you already knew who the culprit was. "babe-" you look down at trinity whose face is ridden with panic. she sits up before you can even finish your sentence.

"i swear i can explain!" trinity doesn't even have a chance to as coco runs out of the building onto the field. immediately she clings onto you. the annoyance in you was rising as you realize trinity didn't listen to you, but that wasn't even the focus at the moment with coco in your arms. all of your other teammates came over to you and trinity. good thing coach wasn't anywhere near here.

"well.." andi says as she looks at the white cat in your arms. trinity was waiting for the yelling or something about telling coach, but it was none of that. instead your teammates just cooed at how cute coco is. fighting over who gets to hold her first.

that doesn't mean you aren't annoyed still, but you can't deal with that with everyone crowding around trinity and you, so you leave that for later.

coco was absolutely spoiled at practice. the spirit coach even said she can come back some days; basically as an unofficial emotional support animal for the team. everyone was on board with that. the day went better than you thought it would, but that doesn't mean trinity wasn't about to get it.

"i can't believe you brought her along without asking me," you say. trinity lets out a groan hearing your words. she already knew you would get on her later about her lil cat smuggle, but still. the cat in question is happily sleeping in trin's arms. tired from a full day of playing around.

"she gets lonely, babe. i explained that to you," trinity reasons.

"she's a cat!"

"a cat who gets lonely! like she has separation anxiety i swear"

"she does not!" you roll your eyes at trinity's childishness. this woman is twenty one and still pulls shenanigans like this. she just falls silent as she pouts. the car falls silent as you stop talking as well. when you two reach your apartment you sigh and look over at trinity after parking.

"i'm not mad, so.. whatever just tell me next time," you say. trinity perks up before leaning over slightly for a kiss. you give her what she wants, smiling once you pull away. "but you're cleaning her litter box today since you wanted to sneak her along," you give her a cheeky smile as she groans.

"but babe!"

#trinity rodman x reader #trinity rodman #uswnt x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics

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pitchsidestories · 1 year

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They say home is where the heart is but God, I love the English II Alessia Russo x Reader

arsenal women masterlist I word count: 1390

The North Carolina sun shone brightly as you walked across the campus. With Lotte on your right and Alessia on your left, you were on your way to soccer practice. Or as Alessia kept calling it: football training.

You rolled your eyes at Alessia, “Once and for all, it’s called soccer here, Alessia.“ But the British exchange student just shook her head as if you were the one who was wrong here, “It’s football. Everyone knows that.“ From the corner of your eye, you caught Lotte rolling her eyes with a slight smile. You knew she was annoyed with the ongoing discussions since she and Alessia joined your university football team. Yet, every time there was this knowing smile on her lips. You turned back to Alessia. “Yeah, but you’re in America now, darling. So it’s soccer.“ “You’re the only ones who say soccer. What does that even mean?“, she answered like she hadn’t asked that question each time the topic came up.

You looked over to Lotte, “Lotte, say something!“ But she just lifted her hands and got up, “Keep me out of this.“ “Typical. If Lotte was playing for another country, it would be Switzerland.“, Alessia laughed. “Actually, it would be the Netherlands because her dad is dutch.“, you corrected her matter-of-factly, trying to ruin her joke. This caused Alessia to now roll her eyes at you, “Oh my god.“ “Come on, my two favorite English girls. It’s time for training.“, you changed the topic while you simultaneously increased your walking pace. “Don’t you Americans usually say practice instead of training?“, Lotte reminded you. You stopped in your tracks with shock on your face, “Shit, I spend too much time with you two!“ Alessia started laughing while she caught up with you, “Finally! She admitted that we were right!“ “No, I didn’t admit anything!“

“Sure.”, the blonde striker shrugged. Instantly you rolled your eyes at her comment but could not stop yourself from smirking at the same time: “Got, I hate you, Alessia, you’re so annoying!” “No, you don’t.”, the girl opposite of you shook her head during her observation. Still with a smile on your face, you teased her: “What makes you so sure of it?” “I know you and your weird American words by know.”, was her quick answer to it. But Alessia realized surprised by herself that her heartbeat was going up everytime you teased her in your loving way.

After an away game all the players were crammed into that little teambus, while you were sitting right next to Alessia, the atmosphere was quite cheerful as the English striker secured your team a win through her last-minute goal: “Okay, Lessie, I might give you my rest of the fries because you won us the game.” “Those aren’t fries. Those are chips!”, she corrected you immediately. Audibly Lotte was clearing her throat right behind you two, her eyes closed: “Could you two discuss this a bit quieter? Some of us are trying to sleep.” Guiltily you bit your lip as you were apologizing to the dark-haired defender: “Sorry, Lotte.”

After that you whispered into Alessia's ear: “French fries won this.” “It’s still chips.”, she pouted although the British woman did indeed enjoy your playful banter because it was never serious just harmless fun. In a reassuring voice you told her: “Sure, love, dream on.” Astonished you recognized that your sitting neighbour’s cheeks were turning pink. “Oh please. You know you’re wrong.” “No, trust me, I’m right on that.”, you gave her a challenging look while replying so swiftly.

Meanwhile Alessia took a deep sigh before holding her speech: “ No, you’re not. It’s a pitch, not a field. They’re football boots, not cleats. We have matches, not games. And for the last time, it’s chips, not fries!”

You just shrugged. Grinning, you tilted your head, “What if I keep saying fries instead?“ “I guess then I have to eat all your chippies.“, she answered with a cheeky smile. But you decided to act clueless, “I don’t know what you mean with that.“ “You know exactly what I mean.“ Alessias blue eyes found yours. You rolled your eyes, laughing, but tried to avoid her intense gaze, “Silly.“ Alessia playfully slapped your upper arm, “Stop it!“ “Never, young lady.“ With a deep sigh and a smile that tugged on the corners of her mouth, Alessia turned to Lotte, “Lotte, she’s so annoying.“

Her English team mate refused to open her eyes and just mumbled, “I’m sleeping.“ “I know you aren’t, Lotte.“ “And I know that you find her annoyingly cute.“, she yawned. Alessia froze. “What?! No, I don’t.“ Finally, Lotte had opened her eyes. “Lessie…“ “Don’t make it weird.“ You could feel the blood rush into your cheeks as you told Lotte to go back to sleep. She only nodded once and closed her eyes again, “I would love to.“

This conversation was still playing in the back of your mind a few weeks later when the season had ended and your two English team mates were packing their belongings. After a seemingly endless hug, Lotte finally let go of you and scrutinized your face. “Lotte, stop raising an eyebrow at me. I’ll miss you two equally when you’ll be back in England.“, you tried to convince her. Lotte gave a slow nod, implying that she did not believe a word you said, “Sure. I bet you will.“ “Besides, Alessia is completely straight.“, you said calmer than you felt. Saying out loud and saying it in front of Lotte was a first time. But there was another knowing smile on her lips when she answered, “Sure, if you say so.“ This immediately awakened your interest, “What are you hinting at?“ “Oh, nothing.“, Lotte replied with more innocence in her face than her voice.

“Lotte, spit it out.”, you demanded, your curiosity clearly taking over. The defender let out a sigh coming from deep down in her chest before spelling out the obvious thing which you were just too afraid to say out loud: “You obviously like her and she obviously likes you.” “But she’ll leave soon.”, you whispered in a sad tone, trying to fight back the upcoming tears.

It was Alessias and Lottes last evening in Carolina and after a farewell party the blonde striker was laying with you on your bed in the small dorm room. She was slightly tipsy and very emotional as she stated: “I’ll miss you so much.” “I’ll miss you too.”, you automatically replied trying to keep your voice calm and reserved without all the feelings you were holding inside. Now Alessia was trying to take hold of your hand while highlighting the point she was making: “No, I’ll.. I’ll really miss you.” “Hey, remember, I’ll come and visit you and Lotte soonish.”, you tried to cheer her up. “Soonish always means never.”, she remarked sourly. Frustrated you looked into her eyes:“I mean it though, I promise. What could I do to make you believe me?” “I think I know what. Kiss me.”, the blonde answered. “Are you sure?” A slight smile was occurring on her lips: “Just do it.”

And as she wished you finally kissed her in between two kisses a question appeared in your eyes: “Do you believe me now?” “I think I do.”, she said before dragging you down to the pillows kissing you even more patiently than before.

Euros 2022

With a huge smile on her face Alessia read a British newspaper article while you were on the way to get you both an iced coffee from the coffeeshop around the corner of the Hotel the lionesses were staying at:

American Midfielder who’s rumored to sign either for Arsenal or Manchester United soon was spotted at the England game watching her former North Carolina teammate Alessia Russo scoring the prettiest goal of the whole Euros so far against Sweden.

She was so excited for her girlfriend to play finally in the same league as her and could not wait to teach you more British vocabulary as you went on your own little adventures.

All you knew was that England was your home even before you played there because it was personified in Alessia who you were handing her iced coffee, not without placing a soft kiss on her pink lips.

God, you really loved the English.

Let us know if you liked our second imagine and if you would like to read a Lotte one soon. ❤️

#woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #arsenal wfc #engwnt #lionesses #woso #woso imagine #woso one shot #lotte wubben moy #arsenal women

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meazalykov · 5 months

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sharing a space

❀ esmee brugts x USWNT!reader moving in together headcannons ❀

warning: suggestive mentions

❀⋆ Six months after Esmee and you were official, she brought up the idea of the two of you moving into an apartment together. to her surprise, you said yes immediately.

❀⋆ You’ve stayed at her apartment at least three nights a week, even before you both were official. After moving to Barcelona from the United States to join the catalan club, you felt alone as you were far away from your friends and family on the western continent. Esmee felt the same way after moving away from her home in the Netherlands. Both of you bonded over having someone who can relate to each other and their hobbies. The compatibility between the two of you was very strong, which is how you both fell in love.

❀⋆ The two of you decided to get another apartment to live in together, instead of you moving into hers and vice versa. You and the Dutch woman didn’t have to look at many apartments until the two of you found a spacious apartment that you both loved.

❀⋆ Moving in with significant others isn't easy. Esmee prefers a more modern, cool, minimalistic space while you might prefer a midcentury modern, warm, and plant filled space.

❀⋆ After coming to a compromise– you both moved into a modern minimalistic apartment to accommodate Esmee but the bright sun that shines through the bedroom windows in the morning–and the living room windows in the evening– with plants around the apartment accommodated you.

❀⋆ The new apartment has two bedrooms and two bathrooms. Obviously, Esmee and you decided to share a bedroom to sleep in. With the second bedroom— You and your girlfriend decided to make it a space where clothes, important football stuff, shoes/cleats, and necessary makeup and hair stuff will go along with a vanity. The two of you did leave a space in the smaller bedroom which had a twin bed, just in case either of you had visitors.

❀⋆ Speaking of visitors, you both had them at least once every two months. Recently, your two sisters (if you don’t have sisters, make them up hehe) came from the United States to visit you for a few days. Your oldest sister is 3 years older than you– Your other sister is your fraternal twin who's 12 minutes older than you. They were excited to meet Esmee since they’ve noticed how happy you’ve been with the dutch woman. After staying for three days in Spain, they’ve grown their own friendship with Esmee and approve of her for you.

❀⋆ Due to the small distance between Spain and the Netherlands– in comparison to Spain and the United States—Esmee usually has visitors the most. However, it's not frequent. Esmee’s brother will come to visit Esmee for a day or two which you don’t mind at all. The two of you get along and he has noticed how happy you and his sister were together.

❀⋆ Since you’ve played at Barcelona together, the two of you will usually wake up around the same time if you had morning training sessions. Sometimes, you’ll (quietly) wake up an hour before Esmee since you like to have time to chill and watch television before having to rush and get ready. Sometimes when you try to sit up from Esmee’s arms, she holds you tighter and asks you for a couple extra minutes of cuddling. That can lead into making out and more—if you get what I mean–but waking up with disruptions is never an issue.

❀⋆ Except for that one time— you had to wake up at 6am one morning to get ready for a shoot with Adidas. Throughout the shoot, you had to take pictures for their new soccer launch and film content with Barcelona Masculí player Ferran Torres (think of the shoot Vicky Lopez did with Ferran). You had an alarm that was set for 5:50am and 5:55am so you were able to wake up on time, unaware that you accidentally set an alarm for 4:30am as well. As Esmee and you were comfortably asleep, the 4:30am “apex” alarm sound on your phone erupted in the bedroom. The phone violently vibrated on your bedside table and the Dutch woman was the first to wake up from it.

❀⋆ “Y/n?” Esmee barely opened her eyes as she shook your shoulder. As your eyes opened, you heard the alarm and immediately sat up from sleeping on your side. Clicking on your phone screen, you saw the “4:31am” clock on your lockscreen which confused you. You didn’t have to wake up for an hour and a half to get ready.

❀⋆ As you turned to look at your girlfriend, you noticed that she went back to sleep. The warmth of the thick baby pink blanket that you shared with her enveloped your body which helped you lay down again. As an hour passed by, you couldn’t go back to sleep. You accepted your fate with the accidental alarm and stood up to get ready earlier than expected.

❀⋆ Besides scoring goals for Barcelona, you both loved to cook as well. When you both decide to stay inside during some evenings, Esmee and you loved to look up new recipes and try them. This can end in a disaster sometimes– with you getting flour all over the place— or Esmee accidentally burning a piece of bread— but you and your girlfriend laugh and bond about it.

❀⋆ There are times where your girlfriend and you will take showers together. Half of the time it's more intimate instead of it being sexual, but the warmth and vulnerability helps after playing on a chilly and sometimes aggressive pitch for two hours on match days.

❀⋆ Overall, moving in with Esmee was what you needed after joining Barcelona. The comfort brought you two company, love, companionship, and happiness.

#barcelona femeni #esmee brugts #fc barcelona #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #oranjeleeuwinnen

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quinnyundertow · 6 months

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Goalies Turn

A JJK Kick-Off Fanfic/Soccer AU Choso x Reader

AN: I am absolutely obsessed with @celestie0 amazing JJK Soccer AU fanfic "Kick-Off". I adore the way she writes Choso in it; the teams Goalie. As a result with her permission I have written a one shot fanfic...for her fanfic. LMAO. This y/n is NOT the leading lady of Kick Off. Thank you Ellie for making up this amazing world and letting me play around in it!

Choso Kamo x Reader One Shot. Fluff, Comedy, Smut.

Something about feeling the turf underneath your feet without the support of your cleats was incredibly bittersweet. You adjust the binders in your hands as you walk down the sidelines. The early morning sun is just starting to evaporate last night's dew. The University of Tokyo’s men’s D1 soccer team is in high gear despite the early hour. They are performing suicide runs; their cleats eating up the turf. The sweat running down temples and rolling down backs.

The back of your calves twitch in anticipation of the thought of joining them. At this hour you would normally be with your girls, catching their practice goal kicks. Your thick goalie gloves snatching speeding soccer balls out of the air before launching them across the field with swift kicks. The unreleased energy running through you is driving you mad. You’ll need to go on a run after this to help relieve the excess.

You reach Coach Yaga, his yappy Pomeranian giving you an attitude as you stop next to him. Yaga gives you a nod before focusing back on his players. “PICK UP YOUR FEET GOJO!” Your ears ring from the sudden bellowing next to you. It takes seconds for you to dial into that mop of white hair on the field. Star player Gojo Satoru is massive but somehow lithe; his muscles bulging as he runs to catch up with an offside ball. His physique is comparable to a statue of a Greek God. It’s too bad you heard his personality is also Greek God worthy; capricious, licentious and cocksure.

“That damn girl needs to get off my sidelines if she can’t stop distracting my players.”

You glance at the “girl” in question. She’s a professional looking young woman your age who you’ve seen around campus before. She’s crouching a respectful distance from the team on the sidelines taking photographs of the players at work. Good to see sexism is alive and well. “Yeah, I can’t believe she has the audacity to be at a professional distance while not using flash in order to be as unobtrusive as possible.”

Yaga shoots you a look that clearly says he’s not amused with your sass, “Keep taking notes on our play style like you did last practice. Fresh eyes can give insight that might be missed otherwise.” He ends his sentence with the wave of a dismissive hand in your direction.

Dumping the binders on Yaga’s bench you pick up a clipboard and find a good spot on the sidelines to observe. Despite being on the University of Tokyo’s women’s D1 soccer team you aren’t very familiar with the men’s team. During the season you were training to chase your own championship dreams. After last week's defeat, and your dreams for this year crushed, you had volunteered to assist the men’s team in preparing for their own race to the top. It was that or take a three week break before practices started again and sitting in your dorm all day sounded like a personal hell after the rigor of these last months.

“YOU'RE LATE AGAIN KAMO! YOU’RE STAYING LATE TO RUN LAPS! NOW GET YOUR ASS IN THE GOAL!” You wince at Yaga’s screaming.

“Yeah, yeah.” A lazy voice responds still sounding groggy from sleep. The guy Coach Yaga is talking to is tying his long hair up into a low bun as he strolls over to the goal. Yaga’s yelling clearly did not light a fire under Kamo’s ass like he wanted.

Choso Kamo, 5’11, solid build, wide shoulders with a tapered waist, impressive reach, and massive hands. He tended to be a little slow, especially at the beginning of a match, but once he got warmed up he was a force to be reckoned with. It was almost impossible to score on him in the last half of a game. You were up until three AM last night watching youtube compilations of his best saves over the season. He was good, great even. Which is why it pissed you off so much that every day you were here shadowing he showed up late and slacked off half the practice.

He sits on the ground in his goal area tying his cleats and putting on his gloves. A loud swish of the net is heard as Suguru Geto launches a ball past Kamo’s head just barely missing making contact.

Choso shoots an unamused look at Geto before flipping him the middle finger. When he finishes fixing his gloves, flexing to make sure they are tight enough, he mumbles. “Alright, go ahead.”

You're watching Nanami Kento, the midfielder, line up shots for practice penalty kicks when you feel a pair of eyes on you. Turning you meet a set of dark orbs watching you. You meet Choso’s gaze head on but are unable to decipher what exactly he’s thinking. He just looks exhausted. Why the hell is he staring at you like that? This isn’t the first time you’ve caught him staring at you over the last three days of your volunteer work. It’s not like he’s checking you out since he’s making prolonged awkward eye contact and he couldn’t look more disinterested. Did he recognize you from the women’s team? You doubted it. Women’s soccer was notoriously underrated and underfunded. The idea of the men’s team players watching you play was delusional at best.

His eyes are locked on you when a speeding ball kicked by Nanami slams him in the gut. There are a few “Ohhhhh” sounds from other players as Kamo groans, doubling over in pain. You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected blow landing. Your hand goes up to cover your mouth when you realize your laugh was a little too loud and a few people are looking at you incredulously. Oh please, getting hit is part of being a goalie. You can’t help but grin and jibe, “Come on Kamo, I’ve seen middle school kids take hits better!”

You hear him mutter something under his breath followed by a clear, “Shit.” as Satoru Gojo laughs obnoxiously in the background.

“CHOSO WATCH THE FIELD NOT THE SIDELINE DISTRACTIONS!” Coach Yaga’s yell causes you to blush a little at his implying it’s your fault in him getting nailed.

As Choso stands he pins you with a heated look, his onyx eyes raking over you before turning back to the field, his demeanor serious for the remainder of practice.

You're standing next to Coach Yaga reading your notes to him as he buckles his pomeranian into the front passenger seat. He doesn’t seem to actually be listening to you but you aren’t in the mood to type it all up and email it to him later tonight.

Yaga’s car is the last one in the parking lot other than your own. You had both stayed late reviewing plays while the majority of the team went out for food and Choso begrudgingly started his late to practice laps. “So I think if you have Nanami focus on his-”

“SHIT!” You jump in surprise as your review is interrupted by a heated yell from Yaga. He pulls a binder out of his back seat. He stares at his watch before cursing some more, “I need to leave now. Can you take this and put it in my office and then lock it up?”

You can't help but frown and sigh as you take the key he is holding out to you. “Alright.”

He nods before getting in and starting up his car, “Thanks, bring the keys back tomorrow morning before practice. Oh, and email me those notes you took today.”

The smile you give him is more of a grimace as he drives off without further comment. “Asshole…” you mutter under your breath as you start the trek back to the men’s locker room. Maybe you shouldn’t have volunteered to help out the men’s team. You hadn’t been ready to leave the field behind for the season yet but this wasn’t what you imagined when they asked for an assist.

You walked into the men’s locker room noting the main door was already unlocked. Yaga wants you to lock up but he couldn’t even manage to. You can’t help but wrinkle your nose a little at the smells emanating from the main locker area, especially from the questionable hamper full of dirty towels.

Sighing you think, If this locker room is a mirror image of the womens, Yaga’s office will be in the back left corner. Heading in that direction it isn’t until you see Yaga’s office that you register a single shower is running in the background. You are so used to hearing showers run in the girls locker room that you didn’t even register the sound as unusual. You look towards the hallway of lined showers knowing that each shower cubicle has a shower curtain pulled across it obstructing any outsider’s view.

That has to be Kamo. You thought he had left already but clearly that was not the case. You can’t help but reflexively bite your bottom lip. Mind thinking about his gleaming pale skin with rivulets of water racing down his hard muscles. You feel thirsty at the thought but shake your head scolding yourself. The man is just trying to clean up after his workout and you’re out here like a damn voyeur salivating over nothing. You quickly cross in front of the shower room to unlock Yaga’s office. You just need to be quiet, drop the binder off and then wait outside till Kamo is done so you can lock up. Simple.

After placing the binder, you exit the office, your hands fumbling and dropping the keys. Cursing under your breath you bend to pick them up but forget the office door is weighted. You jump in surprise when it slams shut loudly. The noise echoes through the locker room. So much for being quiet, you pick the keys up in a hurry deciding to book it to the exit when a voice stops you, “Hey, can you pass me my conditioner!? I’m an idiot and left it by my locker.” You freeze staring at the shower area before turning to look at the lockers. A wooden bench towards the back has a bottle of high quality conditioner and a fluffy white towel folded on it. Did he really forget his towel too? What was with this guy?

You sigh, deciding to grab his conditioner and towel for him. You would just leave it right by the shower door and he would be none the wiser who did it. Problem solved. Picking up the items you read the label on the way back to the shower room. Damn this was like thirty dollars a bottle. Okay Kamo, I see you. You can’t resist flicking the bottle open and taking a quick whiff; the scent is sweet with a hint of coconut. You can’t help but blush as you shut the bottle again. You shouldn’t have done that. You don’t need to know what Kamo smells like.

You approach the shower area and he must have heard your sneakers because he’s talking to you again, “Thanks can you just put it where I can reach. I was dreading having to run out and freeze my ass off.” He’s talking so casually, he must assume you are one of his teammates who forgot something.

You swallow the lump in your throat. Approaching, you decide to hang the clean towel over the top of the curtain rod so that he has it when he finishes. You gently lay it over the top, careful to place it where you normally would your own, so that it doesn’t get wet from the incoming stream of water. You hear a note of surprise in his voice as he registers the towel thrown over the top. “Dude, thanks, you're the best. I knew I forgot something else.”

You're flushing heavily at the casual way he’s speaking to you. You need to get out. Leaning over you slip the bottle of conditioner into the corner of the shower, your fingers just barely pushing it around the plastic curtain so he can grab it. Mission accomplished. You release the bottle and go to stand fully when a large wet hand grabs your own. He must have noticed your feminine fingers. The squeak that leaves your throat is terrified as you try to pull away in shock. The shower curtain rustles as it’s pushed a few inches open from the inside and Choso Kamo is blinking at you in surprise. Even though he’s the one holding onto you he looks shocked at you being there, “L/n, F/n?”

God he looks divine. His hair is down and wet, the strands in the front come to just above his eyes while the remaining dark locks rest on his shoulders blades. You’ve never been this close to him before and the prominent scar across his nose draws your eyes briefly. You note his chiseled jaw and the way his Adam's apple bobs on his thick muscular neck when he swallows.

You’re panicking, hand pulling away from him in quick tugs but his fingers are looped easily around your wrist. The pressure is minimal but his grip is a goalie’s vise, “I-I’m sorry. Yaga asked me to lock up and then you asked for conditioner so-” your vision flies to his hold on your wrist. His hands are calloused and rugged like your own; the veins running up them cause a heat to rush down you. His one hand dwarfs your own and looking up from them your panicked eyes meet his still confused ones, “Please let me go!”

It’s almost like he just now registers he’s holding you there. “Oh.” He releases you immediately, his face turning a shade of bright red. “Sorry!” You yank your hand from his stepping back and rubbing it reflexively. He looks worried as he steps forward towards you, his chest coming out from behind the curtain, only his lower half is obscured now, “Did I hurt you?”

Dear God. If you thought he was beautiful before… He’s stunning, your mouth dries up completely as your eyes scan down his body. His pecs are massive and while he isn’t sculpted like a bodybuilder he has this thickness to his physique that lets you know he is all strength and dexterity under his light layer of fat. His v-cut is prominent and a smattering of dark black hair travels down to hide behind the curtain. You realize you're staring and he isn’t in any hurry to cover himself up.

After a long silence his voice is deeper than normal and a little husky when he speaks, his earlier question forgotten, “You’re going to make me blush.”

You flush heavily, your eyes going up to meet his own. You clench your legs together feeling a familiar desire rolling through you. An itch you haven’t scratched since before the soccer season began. “I’m sorry, you have a nice body.”

His breath catches when your eyes meet his. There’s desire written in them and he feels himself becoming hard. He lets out a groan when you apologize, “God don’t apologize, fuck. I’ve been trying to find an excuse to talk to you for months. You’re stunning.” His eyes are burning into your own with unmasked wanting. He adjusts the shower curtain and your eyes lower to see a very thick erection pressing against it.

You don’t even register when your tongue slides against your lips as desire pools in your nether regions. “Months?” He watches you push your legs together trying to make some friction to help with the escalating arousal you are feeling.

“I-I watch all your games.” He replies a little hoarsely and your gaze shoots up to him in surprise.

You blink in confusion, “You should have just said Hi.”

He swallows before he mumbles out, “Hi.”

You can’t help but laugh at that and he gives an awkward chuckle in response. There’s a hot naked man in front of you who wants you and you haven’t had a good fuck in a long time. Your blood is pulsing straight to your throbbing pussy at this point. Fortune favors the bold right? Your eyes dip down to his erection still barely covered, “You want help with that?”

He groans, “Fuck, yes.” He releases the curtain and it slides to the side. His beautiful cock on display for you. He’s cut, average in length but girthy with a delicious curve. A mesmerizing vein runs up the bottom of it. The tip is flushed a bright red with precum and water dripping off his shaft. “Join me?”

He didn’t have to ask you twice. You kick off your shoes and socks. Your shirt is above your head in moments then you shimmy down your skin tight athletic pants. Not wasting any time you remove your bra and panties and move to join him. You pull the shower curtain open and wrap it behind you, hiding you from anyone’s potential sight but his. It’s like a totally new environment once you're inside the small cube. The air is hot and misty as the water sprays Choso’s back. Droplets fly through the air and land on you sporadically.

“I have to be dreaming…” he murmurs, his eyes going up and down your body. “That’s the only way this could be happening.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to kiss me?”

His warm wet body is pressed against your own in moments. Lips crashing against one another in a battle for dominance where neither party cares if they win. His one arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you against him while his other cups your cheek gently. The kisses are intense and needy. All your nerve endings are on fire as his tongue traces the seam of your lips asking for entry. You open your mouth hungrily granting it access; your own tongue eager to meet his.

You feel Choso’s erection pressing against your stomach. Before you can reach down and touch it his hands go to take your own. You blink in surprise as he holds both your wrists in one hand. “I can’t let you do that.” He chokes out before kissing up your jaw. “I’ll cum before I get inside you.”

Before you can protest his free hand begins palming one breast and then the other. His fingers lightly pinching and massaging your nipples causing shivers to ripple down you. A moan escapes your lips, as his head dips down to take your breast into his mouth. He suckles you for a moment before using his tongue to tease your nipple. “Kamo..” you keen when his mouth releases you with an audible pop. A trail of spit briefly leading from your breast to his mouth.

“Call me Choso, say my name.” He moans taking your neglected breast into his warm mouth, his sucks and teasing motions stoke your flames of desire.

A hard suck makes you oblige him, his name falling from your lips in a gasp, “Fuck, Choso.” The heat and humidity alongside his scorching touches have you lost in sensations. You don’t even register when he releases his mouth from your tits and is back to kissing you dumb against the tiled wall. “Can I eat you out?” He rasps out between fevered sucks on your neck and chest.

“Yes, but I want you inside me.” You whimper out. The curtain of the shower briefly opens from your movements, sending a wave of chilled air over you. Skin pebbling in response, it grants a brief relief to the overwhelming heat.

Choso wastes no time after your acquiesce. He’s on his knees looking up at you, his pupils blown with desire, “I’ve cum to the idea of this so many times.. and it doesn’t even hold a candle in comparison.” That’s all the warning you get before he leans forward one strong hand on your hip the other bringing your right leg up to hook over his shoulder. His lips are on you kissing your inner thighs, light bites and sucks move to the tender flesh of your vulva. You're crying out his name when he finally decides to lick a stripe up the center of your cunt. His tongue lapping up the sweetness of your essence. You feel him groan against you, the vibrations making you whine. His tongue is dipping into your core leaving teasing strokes inside you. His nose bumping against your clit as he nudges against you needily.

Your fingers find and twist into his hair. Holding him close to you despite the fact that he has no intention of leaving. You feel yourself getting closer to release the tightness forming in your belly. “Cho- I want you inside me. I’m gonna, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Wanna taste it.” He mumbles petulantly as he leans back a little to see your half lidded eyes watching him.

“Choso, let me cum on your cock.”

Your dirty words make him groan, “God where have you been all my life, fuck.” He lowers your leg gently, watching the way your chest is heaving trying to catch your breath.

Choso stands, ready to devour you when he suddenly deadpans, “Fuck.. need a condom.” Before you can register what he even said his naked ass is out of the shower and running towards the locker area. You lean out the curtain in surprise seeing him open various players' lockers before finally finding one and muttering, “I owe you one Gojo.” He’s rushing back over like you might change your mind. You're watching his erection bounce as he enters the shower room again. He’s biting the condom wrapper open and putting it on his length when he hits a slippery patch and almost wipes out.

The shocked and confused look on his face as he almost falls on his ass is enough to have you doubled over laughing. This was by far the weirdest hookup you’d ever had and you were enjoying the hell out of it.

“Shit!” He bites out going to enter the shower again. The water he left while exiting makes him slide precariously as he grabs the curtain for support. Your eyes widen as he pulls and the entire curtain rod falls with a crash Choso hitting the ground this time.

You can’t help it, you're crying laughing as he looks up at you soaked and wrapped in the broken curtain. “Choso, what the fuck?” You can’t catch your breath and your sides hurt from laughing.

He was looking up at you in disappointment but the more you laughed the more he couldn’t help but smile in return. His own deeper chuckle echoing, “I really fucked that up.”

You're wiping your eyes, you can’t remember the last time you laughed this hard. You hold out your hand to help him up as he untangles himself.

The sexual mood is broken, he’s flaccid and his ass is throbbing in pain from him landing on it. He stands next to you totally embarrassed but you're not even laughing at him, just the absurdity of the situation. When his sheepish gaze meets yours you give him a grin pulling him back under the water. “Shower sex is not as easy as they make it out to be.” You tease leaning forward to peck the corner of his lips before tapping his shoulder and indicate he should turn his back to you. “Let me condition your hair.”

He nods, turning. His embarrassment slowly fades as you gently massage his conditioner into his hair. The domesticity of the gesture makes his heart clench with want. You are so much more than anything he could have imagined. He wants to learn everything about you and have you beside him from now on. He just hopes he didn’t ruin it with this botched hook up.

You’re finishing up rinsing his hair when he mumbles out, “I really want to see you again even though this…” his words fade off. He can’t see the smile you are giving his back as he continues, “What are you doing this evening?”

You wait until he turns to look at you, a mischievous look on your face, “I was hoping you.”

#jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso kamo x reader #kick off #celestie0 #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #Quinnythelibrary #Goaliesturn

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dnvrsmedia · 1 year

Text

thinking abt goalie!abby !!!

she’d def be the big n scary goal keeper that all the other teams feared.

i’m thinking reader is the new forward! shy n to themself. the kind that speaks when spoken to BUT if around someone they’re comfortable with they never shut up (totally not speaking from experience).

one day you show up to practice in your cute shorts and rolled up sleeves with your matching colors cleats that just makes abby’s head spin.

she obviously doesn’t say shit about it or to you but she is definitely thinking several things.

her train of thought gets cut off when she’s introduced to you! she absolutely thinks your adorable with your shy nature.

anyone on the team would say that abby normally doesn’t do small talk. plenty of new people have filtered in and out of your D1 women’s soccer program leading her to learn to not get so attached. when new blood comes abby normally sends a curt head nod and gets to business.

oh but with you? something was pulling at her heart. she wanted to get to know you and be near you. she felt like she was going absolutely nuts. i mean she hasn’t even said a word to you!

that’s when you stick out your hand with the shyest smile that made the tall woman absolutely melt.

the whole team was watching with a grimace as abby stood in front of you with a…smile? it really looked like someone shoved a stick up her ass and she was trying to push through the pain.

she finally made a move to shake your hand after realizing that she had just been standing there admiring you.

now abby is a big girl. all 6’2 and muscular build of her!! you thought she was an absolute tall drink of water!!

before you could blink, you felt like your arm was tugged out of its socket from how firm a handshake abby gave you. that tug made you lose your balance and land even closer to abby then you were before.

you felt like you were ever so dizzy. from the angle you could see her prominent jaw clench. her big hand(almost twice the size of yours) cupping your hand firmly yet gentle enough that she wouldn’t break your hand. oh my god and you can smell the soap and the musky and woodsy cologne that abby put on lingering slightly.

you bit your lip with a giggle and looked up at her with your doe eyes and innocence that she just wanted to destroy and yet preserve.

“woah…you’re really strong” you squeak as you look anywhere but in abby’s eyes. she can feel you reverting to your shy self.

abby smirks and let’s go or your hand. she gives you one last look over (making you melt on the spot).

“welcome to the team” she winks at you and heads back to the goalie coach for the start of practice.

your. jaw. is. on. the. floor.

& uour panties are wet

the rest of the team were in shock at the way abby acted.

you tried not to garner too much attention in yourself your first practice with the team so you scurry off to find your fellow forwards and close friends.

ever since that day, abby has made it a task to be near you. during training, team dinners, on the bus to and from games, rooming with you at away games. you name it shes there.

not that you minded it at all!! you felt yourself falling head over heels (more like head over cleats) for this girl.

you both opened up to each other and were absolutely attached at the hip.

abby basically was your third roommate with how many times she slept over at your dorm.

those chill nights were your absolute favorite. your roommate would be out at some party, leaving the room to be free from her presence. abby would come over with her laptop and all of your favorite snacks and you two would watch a movie or show.

she always started off sitting next to you (too shy to make the first move) but by the end of the night you both would be cuddled up together on your tiny twin XL.

because of abby’s size, she would always pull you on top of her so that you both had the maximal space. or at least that’s the reason she likes to tell herself.

because of that, she started calling you her “very own teddy bear”

this made you smile whenever because you knew how much she struggled with affection.

knowing that you were the only one to be able to make her that comfortable made butterflies swarm your belly.

oh & when it came to games you best believe abby stared down anyone who tried to get at you.

being a forward, your job was to get the ball into the net as many times as you possibly could( and you were pretty damn good at that).

every time you scored a goal you can guarantee that abby is shouting from her post across the field.

abby is so proud of you that it absolutely hurts.

after wins abby walks up to you and spins you around. recently she’s gotten more bold and has started leaving kisses on your forehead and cheeks.

you get loooots of those after winning your team the final!!

on the other side of that, abby gives you lots of hugs and words of affirmation after hard losses. she knows how easy it is to get into your head about these things so she tries her best to cheer you up.

when it comes to abby and hard losses, she definitely turns to shutting people out.

the first time it happened to you, you showed up to her dorm with a very angry face (if she wasn’t feeling so bad about herself she would’ve thought you looked cute).

she opened the door with her normal stoic demeanor. (grumpy abby looks really fucking cute) but that’s not the point is what you tell yourself.

you push past her door and give her a stern talking to. abby absolutely looked like a guilty puppy with her tail stuck between her legs after you were done with her.

it’s been a learning curve , but she now goes to you whenever she’s feeling bad.

now let’s get to jealous abby!!!

baby is absolutely so protective of you!!!

if she sees at practice that one or your friends are teasing you a little too hard, she “accidentally” chips the ball…into their face.

you looked back on shock at abby as she comes up to your group lying out of her ass.

“sorry, mel . i guess i lost control of the ball.” she glares and gives your a squeeze at your hip.

the rest of your friends laugh as mel rolls her eyes.

“tell your girlfriend to lighten up. it was only a joke.”

you get so shy and can feel your face heating up.

everyone on your team knows you guys like each other , but you aren’t convinced that abby feels the same.

your smile falters and you get quiet for the rest of practice.

abby was freaking! out!

her little light of sunshine reverted back into that turtle shell (she likes to call it). a big frown is displayed on her face all throughout practice as she catches glimpses of you visibly in your head.

you had a terrible practice that ended with you getting a talking to by your coaches.

abby’s heart sunk when she saw you trying to hold back tears on the way to the locker room.

“everyone out!” abby growls at the lingering girls in the locker room.

once everyone scurried out of the locker room, she grabs you by the waist to face her front.

abby isn’t great with words, she’s never been one for vulnerability, but with you? it comes so easily.

you try to put on a strong face for her and that just shatters her heart.

“sweetheart?” abby’s big hand palms your cheek as she wipes the lingering tears off your face.

you try looking anywhere but in her eyes. you know once you reach her big beautiful orbs that you’d spill all of your secrets.

she doesn’t like that you aren’t looking at her and dips her head to catch your attention.

“cmon babe… what’s going on? you’ve been in your head all practice.”

abby’s face is full of concern. god she cares about you so much. her heart aches at the fact that you aren’t feeling okay.

“it’s just nothing abigail i’m fine.” you try shutting her out. you figured her being mad at you and forgiving you later was better than losing your friendship.

abby is taken aback at the use of her full name. she doesn’t let anyone on the team minus a few close friends call her by her nickname, but you? she hated the way it sounded on your tongue.

“you see you trying to be an asshole isn’t going to work. i’m kind of like the queen of doing that, remember?” abby jokes trying to lighten the mood.

when she notices that you crack a smile a even bigger one lands on her face. she squeezes the hand on your hip and rubs your face once more. you lean into her touch and close your eyes.

“ i just um. i guess i just got in my head about what mel-“

abby’s jaw clenches.

“i swear to god i’ll break her fucking knees-“ she interrupts.

“abby! it’s fine she didn’t do anything bad it’s just. after you hit her with the ball-“

“lost control” she muttered and you rolled you eyes knowing the real truth.

“after you hit her with the ball she said to tell my girlfriend to lighten up” your hands and voice started to tremble.

abby’s eyes went wide. she didn’t know that others could tell that she was in love with you.

“and i um i guess i got in my head about it all you know? about us.” you exhaled .

“i’ve never felt the way i feel when i’m with you abs and i just i dunno i know you don’t feel the same.”

woah. abby thought.

she didn’t think but so many thoughts were running through her head.

abby planted her lips on yours cutting off your deprecating ramblings.

you immediately responded back with your hands threading through her damp post-training-shower-hair.

kissing abby was like breathing a whole new meaning of life into you. and you were obsessed.

you both finally pull away after a very long and passionate make out session for some air. abby’s face is bright red as she looks at you like you’ve hung the starts.

“does that answer everything?” she smirks and leans in for another kiss.

#dnvrsmedia #tlou part 2 #the last of us #the last of us ii #the last of us x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson drabble #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x you

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augustvandyne · 7 months

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Lucy Chen x reader

Reader is somehow involved in 5 calls Lucy gets and finally they’re actually in danger at the last call and Lucy decides to ask them out at the end

yesss i love all the lucy asks! she’s adorable, especially in this season. her smileeeee

god is not on my side

God was just not on your side today, or this whole week, if you were being honest.

You were a nurse at a local hospital here in Los Angeles, and of course you were late getting out today - again.

Yesterday you’d gotten out thirty minutes late. Which wasn’t so bad, because you lived 15 away from the hospital, and 15 away from the school. So you had enough time to run home, pick your sister up and run her to the game. She got there just in time for warmups.

But today.. you hadn’t gotten out for an hour. You were an hour late. You were all but running out of the hospital when you were finally able to go.

You rushed as quickly as you could to the house, and you were scolded by your sister, Avery, when she hopped into the car.

“Just freaking drive!” She said as she hung halfway out the door.

“I don’t want to get pulled over,” You try to remain calm, but on the inside you’re freaking out just as hard. You know how important soccer was to Avery. Especially because she’s in her senior year, which means she’s being watched every second of her playing time.

“I don’t even care. I will pay if you get a ticket. Just get me to the field!” She all but yelled at you.

You glance over at your sister. Her hair was already up and she had your guys’ moms favorite color pre-wrap around her head - it was her signature trade mark - along with her shin guards and her dirty cleats that are messing up your clean car.

You press on the gas slightly and you see red and blue flashing lights.

“Shit!” You curse, pulling over to the side of the road.

“Seriously..” Avery sits back in her seat.

“You take point Chen,” You hear out your window as a beautiful woman approaches the side of your car.

“Are you aware that you were speeding?” The officer - Chen - holds her hands in front of her confidently.

“Yes. I’m so, so, so sorry. I normally wouldn’t speed but my sister here is very late to her soccer game because I didn’t get out of work at the time I should have— which is all my fault by the way,” You spare a glance at your sister who is fuming by now. “You see, she’s a senior now and there are scouts all over the place and this is not a good look for her if she’s going to be even more late so if you could please just do whatever you’re going to do, and let me go, I will pay or do whatever you want. Just please let me get her to the high school.”

Lucy’s eyes are a bit wider than they were two minutes ago.

“Oh— well— um, I’ll let you off on a warning this time,” Lucy nods and you let out a relieved breath.

“Thank you. You are a goddess. I could kiss you.”

“Oh—“

“But I won’t,” You chuckle.

“I hope I do not see you again,” Lucy points. “Wait, that sounded rude. Just— I just hope I don’t see you again because I don’t want you to be a criminal—“

“No, I understand,” You smiled widely at the adorable woman.

“Chen,” Tim says sternly.

“Y/n!” Avery says at the same time.

“Right, we’re going. I hope not to see you again, either.”

With that, you’re off.

You guess someone on the side of the road called the cops, you weren’t really sure.

All you knew was you were walking towards the store to get a few groceries for you and your sister before your night shift, when you got punched in the face.

You were slouched down against the side of a brick building when you see two sets of feet appear in front of you.

“Chen-“

“Hey,” Lucy places a gentle hand on your shoulder, ignoring Tim’s protests. She knows all you need right now is a comforting shoulder to lean on. She would know. “What happened?”

“I—“

“It’s okay. Does your throat hurt?” Lucy rubs your shoulder soothingly with her thumb, her hand still resting there.

You nod.

“I see you have a bad bruise there on your eye, did the attacker hit you anywhere else?”

Tim is impressed by Lucy’s ease and strength throughout this process. He makes a mental note to praise her later for being so supportive to you.

“My—“ Your voice is raspy. “Ribs. There’s probably one or two broken.”

Lucy looks down at your shirt, “Do you mind if I take a look?”

You nod again, letting her know it’s okay that she looks.

She’s not surprised to see the bruising on your abdomen, and is glad to see it was only one or two like you said.

“You should go to the hospital to get checked out,” Lucy looks down at you with concerned eyes. “Did he steal anything from you?”

“My— my wallet,” You swallow, and your throat contracts painfully.

“We’ll locate that for you,” Tim promises, his eyes almost matching Lucy’s.

“Thank you,” You sniff.

“Now let’s get you to the hospital.. Y/N, right?”

You didn’t even have to tell her your name.

You were nearing the end of your shift, and to be honest, you couldn’t be any happier if you tried. Partly because you were already as excited as you could get due to you finally getting to leave after an overly long day. But you were also too tired to get even more excited.

But as of late God hasn’t been in your favor. Which really explains why the second you’re about to pack up to change, the hospital is hit with a bunch of traumas - all hands on deck.

You guessed it might have been some kind of mass casualty. Maybe a multiple car pile up or a shooting.

Your suspicions only grew when one of the officers you’ve come to be familiar with - Officer Bradford - and another officer came strolling in. They had concerned looks on their faces.

You couldn’t help but notice Officer Chen (still no first name) wasn’t with him.

Officer Bradford spots you and almost immediately is by your side, hounding you for information.

“Do you know where she is?” You can see the fear in his eyes. He’s terrified for whoever he may be looking for. “She was hit- and- and- Jackson too. I- I should’ve seen it coming.”

“It’s okay Tim,” The woman that stands beside Tim shares a similar expression to him. You were guessing this woman was Jackson’s partner. The officer says in a much calmer voice, “Have you seen any officers be brought in?”

“No,” You swallow thickly and watch as their faces fall. “But I’ll find out right now.”

You see relief flash through Tim’s eyes as you back up and speed through the doors that lead into the emergency room.

Lucy locks her eyes on you, and you are at her side in a second. Another nurse is helping her but you tell her, “I got this one. Help the other officer over there.”

“Tim sent you,” Lucy says through her teeth, in an obvious amount of pain. She was tough and when in pain she didn’t show it. You admired that.

“He did,” You admit, lifting the gauze to see the wound on her cheek. “What happened?”

“We were hit by another car. We were chasing- I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” Lucy looks down.

“It’s okay,” You smile down at her. “You were caught in a traumatic situation, it causes a little shock- which is what you are experiencing.”

She hisses in pain when you tap at her wound with a disinfectant.

“Thank you,” Lucy locks her gorgeous brown eyes on yours.

“Of course.”

You loved Avery, you really, really did, but you hated soccer games.

Not because of the game itself, because you loved to see Avery play. There was nothing you loved more than seeing Avery happy. But you hated the parents.

They are downright rude. They call out at the other kids who are doing just fine, and then praise their own.

“Come on Avery! That was a clear shot!” One of the girls’ fathers stands to shout from the sideline.

You are fuming by now, because that was at least the tenth time this man has shouted at Avery.

“There were three girls in her way,” You point your hand in the direction of the goal.

“She could have shot over them,” The man shrugs. “She’s done it before.”

“Yeah maybe when it wasn’t twenty degrees outside,” You roll your eyes.

“Oh, so now you’re blaming the weather on her poor shooting skills?” The man is still standing as he crossing his arms.

“Well I’m just saying it is pretty windy as well,” You stand too. “You weren’t opposed to blaming weather twenty minutes ago when your daughter missed her shot.”

“That’s—“

“Oh, yeah?” You raise your brows.

“You—“ The man begins to get in your face.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Tim shouts from the side, coming into your view. “Get away from the woman.”

“Or what?”

“I think you know,” Lucy stands confidently, and you have to admit that you’re attracted to her confidence in that moment.

A look flashes over the man’s face but he does back off from your face.

You let out a relieved breath, shooting a thankful smile in Lucy’s direction, Lucy smiling back. And oh my, was it breathtaking.

Lucy nods at you in understanding and as a goodbye.

“I hope I won’t be seeing you again,” Lucy tells the man, trying her best to not pose it as a threat.

As if you didn’t have enough on your plate already, someone was now stealing your mail and packages.

You’d ordered new chargers for your car and for the house at least three times now, and they have all been stolen.

“Again?” Avery asked with a concerned face as you searched the porch for something - anything.

“Yes!” You threw your arms up. “This is the third time. I don’t have the money to just keep spending.”

“I know,” Avery’s face holds a frown. “Maybe you should call that hot cop so she can help you figure it out.”

Your face turns a faint shade of pink at her comment.

Avery smirks, “That’s my dose of humor for the day. I’m off to school. I won’t be home until later, one of the girls with drop me off here. But seriously, get this figured out. Maybe actually go to the police about it.”

“I’ll try.”

And you did.

You really weren’t trying to run into Lucy, or make up reasons to talk to her, but you could see that’s not what it looked like here.

As you think this, it feels as if someone is listening to you. Or it’s just Avery.

Because when you enter the station, there is the cute cop you haven’t been able to get enough of.

You watch Lucy for a second.

She was standing up, but leaning on the counter, her head resting on her folded arms. Her eyes were closed as if she was sleeping, but when you stepped closer she says, “Nolan, if you have a can of silly string, I will kick you in the—“

“I don’t know who Nolan is, but he seems like a piece of work,” You joke, and Lucy is snapped up-right.

“Y/n,” Lucy smiles, grabbing at her coffee tumbler to fidget with. “What are you doing here? I thought I said I didn’t want to see you again? Although, I’m not going to complain. Anyway, uh, what can I do for you?”

You smile nervously, in a good way, and say, “I think someone is stealing my packages.. I’ve ordered phone chargers at least three different times, and they’ve all been stolen.”

Lucy nods attentively, watching you closely, her hands still wrapped around the cup.

“Okay. Let’s just fill out a form, and I will make sure our best detective, Angela Lopez, you’ve actually met her— anyway,” Lucy closes her eyes, pushing a hand into her forehead. “I’ll make sure she gets on it right away.”

“Thank you,” You smile, the two of you locking eyes. “You like coffee?”

“What?”

“The tumbler,” You point. “You like coffee? I’m more of a tea girl myself.”

“Oh— yeah, I like coffee.”

“Good to know,” You tilt your head and turn to walk out.

You just wanted to go to the bank. You really did. Everything you do lately seems to be done with a run in with police and with God on your bad side.

You freeze when you hear the shooting start. Someone has to pull you down to be stopped from getting shot.

Time flies by as he begins making threats and as the cops show up - them trying to compromise with the man.

“No! No!” The man shouted at himself. He had obvious injuries from days leading up to this. You could see infection blooming.

He stares right at you, catching your eye. He grabs your arm and lifts you with a grunt.

You choke back a sob as he says into the phone, “I have someone— her name is—“

“Y/n— Y/n,” You stutter into the phone.

“I’ll shoot her. I will.”

And then he hangs up.

“You’re too close to this Chen,” Tim shakes his head, watching her as she stirs up ideas.

“Lucy?” Nyla and Angela ask at the same time.

“That might be useful,” John says, receiving a few questioning looks. “Well, I’m just saying. She might be able to trip him up.”

“That’s a good idea,” Wade points. “Lucy, how well do you know with woman?”

Lucy doesn’t know how to answer that. She just picks the phone back up and begins to get the man on the line.

“You need to let her go,” Lucy says in a stern voice, stunning everyone. Even you.

“What for?”

“Because I like her. She’s so sweet and so kind. The kindest I’ve ever meet. I don’t know her well, but I hope to over dinner because I would love to get to know her on a personal level, rather than a police and civilian level. She has a sister to take care of, and you can’t take a life of another one of her loved ones. She’s a nurse at the hospital— one of the best. You can’t take her life away just because you’re too insecure to do anything about yourself.”

The man stays quiet, and for a second you really think he’s going to kill you.

“I’ll let her go,” The man begins, and you can hear Lucy let out a shaky but relieved breath. “On one condition.”

“And what might that be?” Lucy’s confident voice was back, and if she was being serious about the date, you already knew what your answer was going to be.

“I walk out of here free. With 250K.”

“Fine,” Lucy agrees.

“That’s a quarter of a million dollars—“ You hear Tim shriek before Lucy hangs the phone up.

You’re pushed to the ground back where you were before when the LAPD comes rushing into the bank.

Lucy was at your side in an instant, ushering you to your feet, trying to take you towards the ambulance so you could get checked.

“I’m okay,” You promise Lucy.

“I can’t be so sure,” Lucy chuckles.

You nod awkwardly.

“Okay, well,” Lucy turns to go, but you stop her.

“Did you.. mean what you said?”

Lucy turns back to you and looks at the ground for a second.

“If you didn’t, it’s okay. I mean, I would love to go out if you—“

Next thing you know, Lucy’s lips are on yours. Her lips are soft and kissable and everything you’ve imagined, but better.

“I meant everything I said,” She holds your face in her hands. “And, would you like to?”

“Like I was saying,” You touch your nose to hers. “I would love to.”

#the rookie #the rookie x reader #wlw post #lucy chen #lucy chen x reader #tim bradford #angela lopez #nyla harper #wade grey #john nolan #lovaaaa #i’m obsessed with her!!!!

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owl127 · 8 months

Note

Can youuuu…mayyybe…please write something containing a 🗡️ character and a jockstrap. Ugh something about jockstraps, mouth guards, and feminine girls doing masculine things is so hot🥵

read on Ao3

Reading @lexa-griffins talk about wanheda’s dagger got me inspired, so… *throws confetti in the air*

Lexa’s boots kicked dirty on her way to the bus stop.

“Lexa!” The cries behind her continued, along with the annoying click of cleats against asphalt. “Lexa, wait!”

Ignoring the girl running after her, Lexa climbed onto the bus without looking back. The driver looked her pursuer and rolled her eyes, signaling for the dirty athlete to hop into the campus bus.

“Thanks, Carla!” Lexa heard, and of course she would be friends with the bus drivers, because apparently, Clarke Griffin is very friendly with people. Girls in particular.

Lexa looked straight ahead as Clarke Griffin, captain of the soccer team, president of the debate club, LGBTQ+ alliance vice-president, and a fucking player sat next to her. Clarke swore at the mud tracks following her and lowered her socks with a long sigh.

“Lexa—” Clarke tried, but Lexa mmf-ed and turned her back to the alpha. “Okay, this is getting ridiculous.”

“You’re the one tracking mud on school property.”

“Brittany is like, nothing, she’s—”

“Have you slept with her?” Lexa turned to look into Clarke’s eyes, searching for honesty, trust, anything that would make the last three months she dedicated to this woman worth it. She found honesty, yes, but regretted it immediately.

“Not recently!” Clarke defended. “She likes to cheer in every game, and she keeps saying we’re seeing each other, but Lex, I haven’t been with her since before I met you!”

Lexa squinted her eyes, watching a bead of sweat forming on Clarke’s forehead.

“Okay, maybe once after we met, but we weren’t exclusive back then!”

The logic part of Lexa’s brain argued that Clarke had a point, and even Lexa had been on a fruitless date after she met Clarke. Had she thought about Clarke all the time? Totally. Did it in the end it help her see she was actually into the charming athlete? Yes, but irrelevant at the moment, since now the unreasonable part of Lexa’s brain kept replaying Brittany’s voice: “And that’s Clarke, number 10. She’s the captain. She’s also delicious.” A pink tongue over lipstick gloss had accompanied that statement, and a graphic image of that girl on her knees for Clarke had made Lexa escape the match as soon as she could.

Clarke had seen the iteration from the sidelines and had abandoned the bench in obvious pursuit.

“Are we exclusive?” Clarke asked when Lexa refrained from commenting. “I… I thought we were.” The girl swallowed, setting her face in the same hard angles as when she kicked a penalty. “I want us to be,” she said, extending a hand between them.

Lexa signed and took the offered hand in hers, feeling how warm it was, despite the fall leaves rushing past the bus window. She loved how warm Clarke’s hands were, a dichotomy to her always freezing extremities. Lexa mumbled something, and Clarke leaned closer, asking, “what was that?”

“Maybe I overreacted,” Lexa confessed, the almost empty bus a witness to the fact. “I hated seeing that girl talking about your dick like she owned it.”

Red crept into Clarke’s cheeks, making its way to her ears. “Well… she doesn’t,” Clarke said, one hand around Lexa’s waist. “You do,” she whispered, and Lexa’s face flushed with heat. “I want to be exclusive. If there’s any girl out there bragging about my dick, I want it to be you.”

“How romantic.”

“You’re into it,” Clarke argued, her bright eyes following Lexa’s scarf until it hid inside her jacket.

Logic once more piped up in Lexa’s mind that the girl had a point. The thong she had worn to celebrate Clarke’s game dampened with proof.

“You didn’t bring your phone or anything?” Lexa asked. “You just ran after me?”

“Of course. I couldn’t let you go looking pissed like that! And Octavia will pick up my shit.”

“So it’s not the first time you abandon your team celebration to pursue a girl?”

Panic flashed in Clarke’s eyes and Lexa felt merciful. “I guess from now on you’ll only be doing this for me.”

“Yeah.” Clarke kissed Lexa’s cheeks, sighing in relief. “My apartment is not far from here,” she said, the kiss lingering. “And I’m in desperate need of a shower.”

“Oh.” Lexa’s heart picked up, her cold hands warming up in her fingerless gloves. “If it’s out of desperation, we need to stop.”

“You’re so kind.”

With Octavia and the rest of the team still back at the football complex, there was no reservation for stripping as soon as they stumbled into Clarke’s apartment. The spare key with her neighbor was worth it (the assistant professor had looked the couple up and down and threw the key in their direction before closing the door and turning her TV colossally loud). Clarke’s shirt and cleats didn’t make it to the hallway, and Lexa’s pants puddled by the bathroom’s door. Lexa pulled the athletic shorts down and met the hard resistance of a jockstrap cup.

“Isn’t it uncomfortable?” she asked, drumming her fingers on top of the hard carbon fiber.

“Right now it’s pretty uncomfortable.” Clarke chuckled and kissed Lexa’s neck hard enough to bruise. “But that’s your fault.”

Lexa focused on Clarke’s high ponytail next, letting the blonde tresses free under the white light. “Yeah,” Lexa said, “it is.”

“Feeling possessive, huh?” Clarke nipped at the soft skin under Lexa’s chin while stepping out of her shorts, completely nude. Clarke moaned at the hands exploring her broad shoulders, digging into her trapezius, and scratching her deltoids. Lexa admired Clarke’s curves, but she salivated at her muscles.

A moan froze in a gasp as Lexa felt for Clarke’s erection, now free from the confines of jock straps and tight, athletic shorts. “Very possessive,” Lexa said, moving her hand in deliberate slowness, pushing eager hips back when Clarke tried to increase the pace. “You can be the leader of your team, but here” — a strong squeeze that made Clarke whine — “I’m captain.” The exhale on Lexa’s shoulder was nothing but a moan.

“Fuck,” Clarke said, her head surrendering to Lexa’s biceps as she mercifully started moving her hand.

Clarke smelled like sweat, and heat, and vetiver, and Lexa had it all for herself. She inhaled deeply, her brain creating a new pathway for that scent of love, need, and lust. Lexa prided herself on being an omega in full authority of her body and desires, but as Clarke groaned on her neck, Lexa surrendered to the primal need of control.

“Come for me, babe,” she said, softly albeit with a command, and poor Clarke followed like a trained puppy.

Lexa held her close as Clarke trembled, expending the last of her strength over Lexa’s olive skin. When Clarke’s knee threatened to buckle, Lexa guided the exhausted girl under the hot shower stream.

“I’m sorry.” Clarke mumbled as water covered her mouth. Lexa distracted herself with shampooing Clarke’s hair, and the fresh scent of mint and vetiver filled the fogging air.

“About what?”

Clarke turned to look Lexa in the eyes, all half-lidded and yawning. “I’m sorry for not being clear about being exclusive before. I was afraid.”

Lexa nuzzled the shampoo suds away from Clarke’s cheek. “Afraid?” she asked.

Clarke hugged her under the water, their wet bodies molding together. The water soothed Lexa’s skin, but Clarke remained her major source of warmth. “I was afraid you’d say no.”

“How could I not?” Lexa kissed her girlfriend — seemed safe to call her that way — until they were out of breath. “I hate sports, and you got me outside in a chilly morning just to watch you kicking some balls.”

“It’s one ball.”

“Whatever. Come here.”

Clarke obeyed, her hand sliding down beautiful curves to elicit a moan from Lexa. She responded in kind, hardening between them.

Octavia was pissed when she arrived home from their game and there was no hot water.

#ask the owl #clexa #abo #little smut #jock clarke #poor octavia #let's write more about wanheda dagger i suppose #drabble #i also love when feminine characters do something like this #like fuck in a shower #or when a cute girl puts her hair up and its an undercut #DEAD #i'm currently trying to convince my girlfriend to get an undercut #a lot of strategies are being implemented wish me luck

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reminiscingtonight · 2 years

Text

Steady Love (Pt. 2)

Christen Press x Reader

Word Count: 6k

A/N: inspired by Taylor Swift’s ‘Maroon,’ but without the angst part ofc

Part One

[Masterlist]

2007-2009~

The first time you meet Christen, you’re pretty sure you’re going to die. Paired up on opposite teams for the 4 v. 4, you’ve run yourself ragged trying to keep up with the speedy forward.

By the end of the first practice, you can’t feel your legs.

A pair of black cleats come to a stop in front of you, and you squint up to see the most dazzling pair of green eyes ever. They’re accompanied by a shy smile and an even shier voice asking if you wanted to run a few more drills with her.

You don’t have the heart to turn her away and the two of you spend the rest of the daylight practicing. She takes you out to a killer pizza joint as thanks for the extra minutes, and you walk Christen back to her dorm at the end of the night.

You’re smitten from the start.

The LA native is as charming as she is smart. You find yourself spending a lot of your down time with her, whether that be lounging at the beach or hidden away in a secret library hideout. Despite finding her the most beautiful woman on campus, you can’t seem to voice your thoughts to her. Instead, you sit by quietly as countless people, both men and women alike, attempt to ask her out. Christen blushes every time someone tries, but she never says yes in the end. She just politely turns them down and then gets back to spending time with you.

Kelley’s your self-appointed wingwoman from the start. Having realized your relation to Tobin and having taken Christen under her wing as a fellow forward, she does everything in her power to push the two of you together.

That often means embarrassing out of place comments that leave both you and Christen turning red, and more often than not, you groaning at Kelley to go away. Despite all of Kelley’s “help,” you and Christen toe the line between friends and something more for a couple years.

It isn’t until your semi-final loss in the 2008 college cup that Christen does anything about your mutual feelings. It’s there, on the somber North Carolina field where you lay dejected and heartbroken after a hard 1-0 loss, that Christen fixes your heart up. Pressing a kiss against your forehead, she whispers every word she’s ever wanted to say to you. You go out on a date the day after and you’ve been together ever since.

Which has led to this moment here, New Years at the Heaths. For the first time since becoming official, Christen’s decided to accompany you to New Jersey, meeting your family for the first time. Sure, she’s met some of them when they come to your Stanford matches here and there, but this is the first time she’s meeting them as your girlfriend.

So far she’s done great, charmed both of your parents like she did you and formed a light bond with your younger brother. None of your sisters have arrived yet, Perry picking up Tobin from the airport and Katie planning on coming in separately.

It’s between telling Cindy about her summer internship and Jeff the soccer records she wants to break this year that Christen suddenly turns towards you. Due to your close proximity, the two of you clash hard, her wine sloshing dangerously over the edge and dousing you in half of her drink.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

“Chris, it’s fine.” You take the offered napkins and try to soak up as much of the alcohol as you can. Christen seems undeterred, only growing more flustered with every second.

“Um if we soak it in some water right now I think we can get the wine out, but we have to hurry--”

“Christen.” Grabbing your girlfriend’s hands between yours, you pull her in so she’s no longer tugging on the bottom of your shirt. “Breathe, baby. It’s okay.”

Waving off your parents, you drag Christen out of the kitchen.

“You need to change. I’d hate it if I stained your shirt forever just because I was nervous,” she mutters, still wringing her hands.

Trying to lighten the mood, you crack a joke. “If you wanted me to strip, you didn’t need to spill wine on me.”

Christen gives you a shove, but chuckles nonetheless. Happy to have gotten the reaction you wanted, you start towards the staircase. “Come on.”

Christen slows, lingering by the bottom of the stairs. “Are you sure? I think your parents will think we’re… doing things if I go up there with you.”

You roll your eyes. “Trust me when I say my sisters and Jeff have done much worse.”

“Babe,” she huffs, trying to be serious.

“Chris, would you rather stay down here with my family and fend for yourself? I think Katie’s like two minutes out. She’s probably the scariest one out of all of them.”

The mention of your sister has Christen’s eyes opening wider.

“Um, on second thought, I’d love to see your childhood room.”

Chuckling, you head up the stairs towards the end of the hall. Christen’s all wide-eyed as she takes in your posters and trophies littering the room.

She softens at a picture of you and Tobin as kids, front tooth missing as you hold up a first-place trophy in pride. Although you’ve faced each other on the field multiple times, Christen’s yet to actually meet the sister you’re the closest to. There always seems to be an excuse, a missing sweatshirt or late game tiredness, anything that stops her from meeting your sister out on the field with you after a game. But you’ve never pushed her on it, knowing Christen’s slight reverence of your sister’s soccer records.

Today, however, seems to be the day that all changes. The two of you barely make it back onto the main floor before a voice rings out.

“Defiling my sister already, Press?”

Your head snaps to the side, the familiar drawl having you light up at first. But when Christen stiffens next to you, your smile drops.

“Toby,” you warn, running a soothing hand down your girlfriend’s back.

Your older sister simply sticks a hand out, yanking you away from Christen and into a crushing hug.

“Toby!” This time her name is whined out, you struggling to get out of the noogie Tobin’s giving you.

A melodic laughter has you briefly pausing, and there’s a sparkle in Christen’s eyes when you finally escape. Christen willingly offers you her arms when you pout, and she makes sure to gently smooth down your hair.

When you realize how relaxed Christen feels pressed against you right now, you realize Tobin’s plan to put your girlfriend at ease all along.

Tobin gives you a grin when you meet her eyes. Her attention quickly turns back to the girl beside you. “It’s nice to meet you, Christen. Your reputation far precedes you.”

“My reputation?” Christen seems at a genuine loss of words. “I don’t… You’re… you’re Tobin freaking Heath!”

Tobin chuckles. “And? You’re every defense’s worst nightmare. Trust me when I say I hate playing Stanford because (Y/N) is a pain in the ass to get past, but you’re probably the bigger pain in the ass for a team collectively to constantly defend and catch up to.”

Your girlfriend seems at a loss for words. Never would she have thought “Tobin freaking Heath” would take notice of her soccer skills. You know it’s been a lifelong dream of Christen’s to play for the national team. Hell, it’s been yours as well, but it’s one thing to personally know someone who’s being called up, and another to meet them for the first time. Seeing someone you know getting called up so young has only made the two of you push each other harder, and the meritts have long been shown.

Christen takes Tobin’s offered hand, giving her a firm handshake. Tobin can only fake it long enough for half a second to pass before she’s rolling her eyes. “Why am I not surprised you’re someone with a firm handshake?”

Before Christen has the chance to respond, or you to chastise your sister, Tobin’s pulling Christen in for a hug. Your girlfriend is stiff at first, but quickly relaxes into the hug.

“Damn, (Y/N) wasn’t lying when she said your hugs are to die for.”

You turn red at Tobin’s teasing and Christen pulls away to raise an eyebrow at you.

“You give good hugs,” you mutter, face flaming even more when Christen leans in to give you a kiss. You ignore Tobin’s howling laughter and flip her off.

“I think your hugs are to die for too,” Christen smiles, bumping your nose with hers.

Tobin’s face instantly scrunches up in disgust. “Okay, you guys are gross. Go away now.”

Later that night when Christen’s successfully won the love of your two other sisters and the rest of you are getting ready for dinner, Tobin’s leaning in to nudge you in the side.

“Christen seems like a good one,” she hums, not taking her eyes off from where your girlfriend is helping Cindy take rolls out of the oven.

“You really think so?” It’s not that you doubt how good of a person Christen is. You just know how much your family’s approval means to her.

“She’s really doing the world a disservice, being with someone like you,” Tobin teases, sticking her tongue out at you.

Grumbling in dissent, you’re halfway to strangling her when Cindy catches you forcing Tobin into a headlock. “Girls! I know I’ve definitely raised you better than to be this uncivilized. Go help Christen set up the table before she thinks all New Jerseyites are like this.”

Christen merely gives your mother a wink when she places down the plates. “It’s okay. I already know (Y/N)’s a hard one to train.”

“Babe!” you gasp out, quickly releasing your sister to pout and give your girlfriend a hand.

It’s the first of many family dinners you have together, but in that moment, you can only hope Christen will choose you forever.

---

Megan shoving a glass into your hand snaps you back into the present.

It’s been nearly a month since Christen revealed your engagement to the world, and it’s been a crazy month since then. Interviews here and there, public appearances galore, not to mention the number of games you still had to play, both for club and nation. All that has led to this, a Pinoe insisted, wholly unnecessary, bachelorette party. Despite the number of times you protest, the pink haired lady refused to back down, swearing she was going to throw you the “most bangest, wildest, and gayest bachelorette party ever.”

You think it’s premature at best, given she brought up this idea only a week after the engagement, but who are you to argue with your decade-long teammate?

Due to a call you have scheduled with a sponsor, you’re one of the last people to show up. You’re greeted with shouts from some already drunk people when you open the gate into Pinoe’s backyard.

Waving away your thanks, the forward raises the bottle in her hand in question. “Could I offer you some rosé?”

Your response is almost instantaneous. You flinch back, face paling at the name of the wine.

Megan’s body stills, eyes wide and bewildered as she takes in your sudden sullen state. “What?”

Meanwhile, Christen, who gravitates towards you when you arrive, is cringing behind her glass of red wine beside you. Kelley’s not far behind her, a wide smirk plastered on her face. Their reactions aren’t missed by the rest of the team, who quickly crowds around to find out what the fuss is all about.

“What’s so bad about rosé?”

---

2009~

The first thing you register is the pain radiating through your back. Then the pounding in your head. And then the soreness in some… other places.

Eyes fluttering open, you spot the mess of curls sprawled out over your chest. Christen’s already awake, tired green eyes staring down at you with mirth.

“Good morning,” she murmurs. The raspiness of her sleep-laden voice makes your heart skip a beat.

You smile. “A very good morning indeed.”

Christen leans in, pressing a short and chaste kiss against your lips. When she pulls away, way too soon for your liking, you whine, pouting at the look she sends you.

“Don’t even,” she murmurs, sitting up onto her knees and groaning at the popping of her joints. Your eyes trail down her exposed skin, staring abashedly, even as Christen rolls her eyes at you.

Frowning, she takes in the state of the floor. Clothes are thrown everywhere, blankets are also piled up under where you’re still propped up on the floor.

“How’d we end up on the floor anyways?”

Now that you’ve lost the warmth of Christen’s body against yours, you flop back down onto your back. “Your roommate’s cheap-ass screw-top rosé.”

Christen’s eyebrows furrow as she tries to understand your complaint. It must be too early for her critical thinking skills though, as she continues to fix you with a puzzled look.

Sighing heavily, you push yourself back onto your forearms. You fight your urge to smirk when you catch Christen’s eyes lingering on your exposed skin. “Okay, we need to address her choices in wine, but we actually broke your bed last night.”

“What?!” Christen’s head whips back at lightning speed, craning to catch sight of her bed.

The snapped leg of her bed and tilting bed frame only leaves your last night’s activity to your imaginations.

Christen groans, leaning down to press her face against your neck. “I cannot believe we did that.”

“Totally worth it though.”

Your girlfriend’s glare isn’t enough to wipe off the smirk on your face.

“Come on, you can’t say it wasn’t worth it.”

Shoving herself off you, Christen picks up a shirt to pull on. It isn’t until she’s lingering by the door, eying your still curled up body on the floor that she sighs heavily. “Are you coming?”

You’re instantly scrambling up, throwing on a sweater of Christen’s before racing after her.

Not looking where you’re going, you bump right into Christen’s back, the forward having suddenly stopped in the middle of the hallway. You take that moment to run your hand appreciatively up and down against her side, ending with warming your hands up on her abs. You always loved feeling her tight muscles and Christen always loved your wandering hands, but it’s the stiffness in Christen’s posture that has you lifting your head up from where you are pressing a kiss against the back of her neck.

You meet amused hazel eyes accompanied with a wide smirk. Your hands snap away quick from under Christen’s shirt.

“Did you guys have fun last night?”

Face turning red at Kelley’s line of questioning, you quickly brush past your girlfriend, making sure to yank her with you to her kitchen. The smug brunette doesn’t let the half-wall separating you deter her.

“You girls in a hurry to restock your energy?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Kell.”

“Right, those marks on your collarbone are very convincing.” This statement comes from Ali, who’s already leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in hand. You glare at her, ignoring the defender’s cry of dismay when you swipe away her cup. By now, Christen’s beet red, doing her best to shield herself from the rest of your teammates settled in the living room.

After the events of last night’s party, the rest of them must have slept there while you and your girlfriend got busy in her room.

Kelley cackles at Ali’s observation, letting out a low whistle. “Damn, Pressy. You really did a number on her.”

Shutting your eyes, you will your hangover to go away. You actually woke up in a pretty decent mood, all cuddled up with your girlfriend. Now, however? Now you just want to pack your entire team onto a bus and drive said bus off a cliff.

Settling to instead clean the apartment, you only make it as far as scanning the kitchen counter for trash when you feel like gagging. Scrunching up your nose in disgust, you grab the empty rosé bottle, intending on putting it in the recycle bin. Ali has other ideas though. You don’t even have time to protest before she’s stealing the bottle from you.

“No more rosé for you two horndogs.”

That sets off the rest of your team again.

You can tell Christen’s plotting the slow death of your teammates, so you quickly lean towards her.

“If we start making out right now do you think they’ll all go away?” you mutter.

This time you’re laughing with everyone else when she shoves you away.

---

The night’s starting to wind down. Emily has long fallen asleep on Lindsey and you can tell the buzz is starting to wear off the rest of the team. Most people are just quietly chatting amongst themselves, no longer going ham and playing games.

Megan leans back towards Sue, letting out a low groan. “Damn, the two of you have such a cute relationship.”

Christen simply smiles, hooking a finger around yours.

You let out a hum, not disagreeing with the forward. “You know we almost broke up once, right?”

That captures the room’s attention. Megan sits up, suddenly more alert than she’s been all night. “What?”

“Don’t you remember when I left in the middle of the season at Sounders Women and was gone for a hot minute?”

---

2012~

You’ve been staring at your phone for the past two hours, almost as if the harder you stared, the faster it’d ring. Christen’s game had ended hours ago, and you’ve been waiting for the forward to call you ever since.

After college you and Christen both got drafted to the WPS. Christen went to DC while you ended up reuniting with Kelley in Boston.

You knew your girlfriend was proud of you when you got your first international cap a month after you graduated, and even more so when you joined the team on their trip to the World Cup in 2011. You barely played any minutes, but just being with the team was an experience. The entire time, however, you couldn’t help but feel guilty at leaving your girlfriend behind. It’s clear how much it was killing Christen not to be called up, but nerves about your own career and Christen’s focus on expanding hers leads to neither of you talking about it much. Maybe that’s where the first mistake starts.

When the league folds, you’re quick to fly out to Seattle along with some of your national team teammates. Christen, on the other hand, goes abroad, heading for Sweden. Although you know she did it to improve her soccer playing in hopes of making the national team, you hated how far away she had to be to do it.

The nine hour time difference made it hard to have a decent conversation, but the two of you try your best. Everything’s great at the beginning. Countless phone calls, weekly skype dates, anything to still keep your relationship alive.

But then texts start to fade, phone calls seem less enthused. It’s been months now and the silence only seems to be growing longer and longer. Each time you propose flying out to see her, Christen declines, not wanting to take away from your own season in Seattle.

At this point you’re not sure what else you can do.

You’re just about to leave for practice when your phone rings. Fumbling for the phone that’s in your back pocket, you quickly jam the answer button when you yank it free.

“This isn’t working for me anymore.” It’s quick, it’s quiet, it’s cutting. Christen’s words have your breath dying in your throat before you can even say hello.

“What? Chris, I--”

“I’m sorry, I know this isn’t fair of me to do. But I can’t stop feeling jealous of everything you do, even though you deserve it all. I need to focus on myself right now.” There’s a slight tremble to Christen’s voice, but she holds strong.

“Babe, slow down, I--” your voice cracks and you have to try hard to swallow the lump in your throat. “Look, we can work through this just--”

“I can’t, I’m sorry. Everything, the distance, our lives, nothing’s clicking anymore.”

“Chris, just wait--”

“I don’t want to hold you back anymore.”

“Babe, you’re not holding me back.”

“(Y/N)--”

“I love you. Please don’t do this.” You’re begging now, well aware of how pathetic you sound.

Never in a million years would you have thought that Christen would break up with you. The two of you have had your fair share of arguments, when you were still in college together as well as the first year going long distance after being drafted. You’ve always been able to resolve things though. You’re not sure why you thought this would be any different.

There’s a choked sob on the other line. Your heart clenches at the sound.

“Chris--”

“I love you. I do. I just… I’m sorry.”

You’re not expecting the dial tone when it rings out against your ear. The longer you stay on the empty line, the more reality sets it. Christen just broke up with you. Christen just broke up with you.

You’re not sure if you want to cry or throw up.

Eventually you slide down against the wall, pressing your face against your knees. There’s a tightness to your chest. You’re not sure if it’ll ever go away.

A loud bang has you jolting out of your feeble position.

Alex, who’s always perpetually late to leaving for practice, slides to a stop in front of you. She freezes, hands still in the middle of tying her hair up. Her eyes dart between the phone still clutched in your hands and your bloodshot eyes. She yanks her headphones out of her ears.

“Erm, what’s wrong?”

“Fuck off, Alex,” you spit out, wiping hard at your eyes. You know it’s unwarranted. It’s not Alex’s fault Christen just broke up with you, nor is the fact that she’s had the unfortunate act of being your roommate.

The forward ignores your quip, choosing instead to sit down next to you.

She doesn’t say anything.

The seconds tick by.

By now you’re 100% sure you’re both late for practice.

More time passes.

Eventually the silence becomes too much for you.

“I think Christen just broke up with me.”

“What?” Alex whips her head around at your words.

“She said…” just having to repeat Christen’s words made you feel even sicker. You swallow hard. “She said it wasn’t working for her anymore.”

You get up on shaky legs.

Alex only tilts her head up at you in question when you start shoving your feet into your slides. “Where are you going?”

“Practice. Where are you going?”

You can’t do anything but follow her blindly when Alex suddenly makes a beeline for your room. She digs out a bag from under your bed and starts shoving clothes into it. You’re still dazed from the rapid change in Alex’s behavior that all you can do is stare.

“Go to Sweden.”

“Excuse me?”

“Book a flight out to Sweden. Go get your girl,” she repeats, spinning around to raise an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t think she wants to see me.”

“Well I don’t think she knows what she wants if she’s breaking up with you,” the brunette shoots back, shoving the half-packed bag of clothes into your arms. Alex all but ushers you out the door, pushing you into the passenger side seat of her car.

“Al, wait, we have practice--”

“Missing one day is fine.” Your eyebrows nearly shoot to your hairline. Alex Morgan voluntarily missing practice? Whoever this person sitting beside you is, is not the breakout USWNT forward you’ve come to know.

“And if coach asks where I am the next couple days?”

“I’ll just say you have some personal things you have to deal with. No one will mind.”

For the amount of shit you give Alex, she’s a great friend to have. In less than an hour, you’re seated on an airplane headed towards Sweden.

The fifteen hour flight leaves you with a lot of time to think.

You know that Christen’s been struggling with soccer recently. Her dreams of making the national team only dims with every missed call-up. With every call you’ve seen her enthusiasm wane.

At first your calls would encompass everything. How life is going in your respective cities. The places you’ve seen, the people you’ve met. Lately all they’ve been about is soccer. How each other’s games have gone. What could have been better. Never about the national team. You never bring it up, not wanting to accidentally hurt her feelings. Christen never does either, not wanting to talk about the things she’s missing out on.

Maybe if the two of you talked about it more, this would have never happened. You could have reassured Christen some more, and she would’ve not felt like she had to go through her career herself.

You dream of every scenario that can play out when you get to her place. Christen not opening the door. Christen opening the door but to only slam it in your face. Christen opening the door, not slamming it in your face, but repeating her desire to break up with you.

Okay, maybe you only dream of the worst case scenarios. But Christen’s the one who broke up with you so you really don’t have a reason to think of anything positive.

It’s pouring when you get to Gothenburg.

You blearily make your way to the cafe lounge. Sleep did not come easily on the fifteen hour flight, so you’ve been awake over 24 hours now after waking early to catch Christen’s game.

It’s there, when you’re inhaling a cup of black coffee that a splash of color catches your eyes. You frown at the stand.

Who buys flowers in an airport?

You buy a bouquet before setting out for a taxi.

The taxi driver eyes your lack of luggage and the flowers in your hand with interest. You’re glad he doesn’t say anything on the drive to Christen’s place.

When he drives off, you’re left staring at the plain gate surrounding the very generic looking house. It’s only a couple steps away, but you can’t seem to make your feet move towards the door.

You’ve defended against the fastest strikers in the world. You’ve scored against world-class keepers. You’ve done all these great soccer things, yet you can’t find it in yourself to knock on Christen’s door.

A voice that suspiciously sounds a lot like Tobin’s tells you not to be such a wuss. You mentally flip off imaginary Tobin. Imaginary Tobin only nutmegs you in response.

In the end, you don’t even have to knock.

Your eyes widen when you see the door swing open. Christen must’ve been on her way out to the store or something, because she doesn’t seem to be expecting it when she catches sight of you just a ways from the door. You can tell when she realizes who it is exactly who’s standing right in front of her.

Christen stares at you, hollow-eyed as she leans heavily against her door for support. You’re instantly taken aback by how beautiful she looks. Her eyes are a little red from where, you assume, she’s been crying most of the night and day. Despite that, you still think she’s the prettiest woman you’ve ever seen.

“Hi.”

Christen blinks. “What… what are you doing here?”

You nearly sway at the rasp of her voice. It’s been so long since you’ve heard it in person. The speaker of your phone never did her voice any justice.

“I needed to see you.”

A gust of wind has Christen momentarily distracted. Finally taking in the state of the weather around you, she quickly invites you in, shutting the door to keep out the rain. You linger by the door, not willing to drip water all over Christen’s place. The forward disappears for a moment, returning with a giant towel that you gratefully take.

You take this opportunity to hand her the flowers.

She gives the half-drowned flowers a weird look but takes them all the same.

“The rain kinda… kinda killed them,” you sheepishly explain.

Christen still puts them in a water-filled vase, and you have to fight your laugh at how ridiculous it looks.

She hesitates in the kitchen, not returning to where you’re still standing by the door.

“Um, do you want some tea?”

“I love you.”

Your declaration takes her off guard. Christen freezes, eyes widening at your words.

“I love you and I don’t want to break up.”

You cautiously take a step towards her when Christen doesn’t move. Her eyes follow your movements with rapt attention. You swallow hard when Christen still doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t want the fact that we’re in different places in our career break us up. I don’t care about the glitz and the glam that comes with playing ball in the states or on the national team. I’d give it all up if it meant I couldn’t have you.”

You take it as a good sign when Christen lets you take her hand. If anything, her hand tightens around yours.

“Chris, you’re it for me. I don’t want to do any of this if I can’t do it by your side.”

When the first tear falls from Christen’s eyes, your hand automatically shoots out to wipe it away. Christen stiffens at first, but before you have a chance to apologize, she’s throwing herself at you, arms wrapping around your waist, head burying deep against the crook of your neck.

Your hands soothingly run up and down her back when you feel the tears soaking your collar.

“Chris--”

“I’m sorry. I don’t-- god I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m so sorry.”

You’re not sure how long the two of you stay like that, wrapped up in one another, whispering quiet reassurances of your love.

It isn’t until Christen’s tears have finally died down, quiet sniffles every here and there, that you break the bubble the two of you have found yourself in. “I think we have things we need to talk about.” Christen stiffens in your arms, but you’re quick to press a kiss against the top of her head. “But we don’t have to do that right now.”

When she pulls her head away from your neck, you give her a teary smile. “Hey beautiful.”

“Stop,” she chuckles wetly, wiping a sleeve against her face. “I’m pretty sure I just left snot all over your collarbone.”

You shrug. “Pretty sure you’ve done worse. Are we purposefully forgetting when you threw up on me after we won the college cup, or?”

That comment earns you a weak punch against your shoulder. When your chuckles have died down, Christen nervously chews on her bottom lip.

Knowing her tell, you remain quiet, letting Christen work up the courage to say whatever it is. Eventually she quietly sighs out, guiltily eying you. “How do you not hate me?”

You frown. “Why would I hate you?”

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

Hearing the agitation slowly creep into her voice, you slowly lean in until you’re pressing a kiss against Christen’s lips. You can tell Christen’s confused by the change in direction of the conversation, but she sinks into the kiss all the same.

Despite every thought yelling at you to deepen the kiss, you pull away with a light peck when you feel Christen relax against you. “I love you, okay? I love you and I’ll keep loving you even if you make me cry and then get on a very long flight to see you.”

Hesitantly nodding, she drops her head down against your neck again.

“Love you too, even if your ‘forgive me’ flowers were definitely all dead.”

“Roses,” you correct, half remembering a sign you saw next to the stand. “‘I’m deeply in love with you’ roses.”

The snicker Christen lets out is the opposite reaction you expect.

Your face scrunches up. “Okay, now I feel like you’re making fun of me.”

“I love the effort but I am, just a little bit.”

“Chris--”

“Those are carnations.” Christen’s lips are curled up at the sides, amusement replacing the tears that previously filled her eyes. “Not roses.”

The embarrassment shoots through you hard. You’re not able to fight the blush. “Oh.”

Christen simply chuckles, connecting your lips once again.

Later, when you’ve convinced Christen to take a nap with you and are all snuggled up in her bed, you whisper your affirmation of your love for her again.

“I love you. Let’s never do that again,” you mutter, tightening your arms around the forward.

Christen simply hums, pressing a kiss against your collarbone. “Never again.”

---

When the party has come to an end, most people having already left, you once again voice your appreciation of the whole thing.

“Thanks for doing this, P. This was fun.”

Megan huffs, making a show of being fake annoyed. “And to think the two of you kept trying to convince me to cancel it.”

“Oh trust me, Chris and I really do appreciate this whole thing, but it truly was unnecessary.”

Megan rolls her eyes, not even sparing you a look. “I know you guys are very lowkey gals who only need the simplest things in life, but you have to let us spoil you every now and then.”

It’s only when your failed effort to hide your laughter sets off Christen’s own laugh that the forward looks up.

“Yeah, no, P. That’s not what I meant.”

---

Two days ago~

Tobin grabs ahold of your hand, stopping you before the two of you can make it through the doors. “Are you sure you want to do this right now?”

After getting the call from you last night, Tobin jumped on the first plane available to LA. You love your sister to death, but her willingness to drop everything only made you love her more.

You nod. “I’ve been only waiting most of my life for this, so yeah.”

Your sister rolls her eyes at your dramatics, but shoulders the door open all the same. “Pinoe’s gonna be so mad,” she tuts, more than happy to let you take the brunt of the spicy forward’s wrath.

“Hey, I told her she didn’t have to throw us a bachelorette party. She shut me down instantly.”

Kelley, who catches the last part of your conversation, lets out a bellowing laugh. “You didn’t even try that hard.”

Christen comes to a stop beside her, fixing the three of you with an incredulous look. “Wait, she’s still planning on throwing us a party?”

Your first action is to give your fiancée an appreciative up-and-down. Christen doesn’t miss the action, giving you a light shove when she catches your eyes lingering in certain places for too long.

Laughing, you step forward to press a kiss against her cheek. “Think of it as a wedding gift, babe,” you murmur, not missing the amusement in her eyes.

“Wedding gifts are for married people,” Kelley sings, not so subtly pushing you guys towards the right hall. Tobin had pulled the defender with her when she was leaving DC, and you’re glad that she did. There are no other people you’d like more to be your two witnesses. But you are well aware that she’s missing a Braves game to be here.

“Eloping only takes, like, ten minutes, right? I’ve got a ball game to watch.”

Both you and Christen shove Kelley hard enough that she doesn’t have a chance to cackle at her own joke.

#christen press x reader #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

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butterfirefly · 6 months

Text

It was a day just like any other.

Seishiro was in the middle of playing rock paper scissors with Choki and a melon bread in his dream when he was gently shaken awake from his nap, the unwelcome action accompanied by a very familiar—and not entirely unwelcome—voice.

“Oi, Nagi. Let’s go to practice.”

“Reo…” Seishiro mumbled groggily, turning his head to the side and cracking one eye open to look at his friend. “I’m tired…”

“How?” Reo chuckled, ruffling his hair affectionately. “All we did was take tests.”

"Writing equations was too bothersome. Why couldn't we just give the answers right away?”

“‘Cause not everyone can solve the problems in their head like you, so if you don’t write them down it’ll look like you cheated. Now let’s go, genius. Here,” Reo said, hooking the strap of Seishiro’s backpack through one arm and crouching next to his desk, his hands folding twice in a hop on gesture. “I’ll carry you.”

He sighed, defeated. “Fiiiine.”

Seishiro slid off his desk and plopped bonelessly onto the Reo Limousine. He wasn’t kidding when he told him he was tired—he felt like he could sleep the whole week away.

With a spirited “Ikuzo”, Reo marched them both out of the classroom, prattling on about the new play he wanted them to try out, confident smile firmly in place and mind already envisioning a hat trick scored in their next match—each.

And, as usual, the gobsmacked students around them were soundly ignored.

Half an hour later, they were standing in the middle of Hakuho’s pristine football field, dressed in their school’s stylish white and black track suits and their matching cleats. They had just finished doing warmups, but Seishiro already wanted to melt on the grass. He told Reo so, earning him a slightly more forceful hair ruffle. Reo went on to hype the rest of the team up with promises of steak after practice. Their other teammates gave out loud cheers, absorbing their captain’s energy like sponges and not minding Seishiro’s trademark lethargy in the least.

When everyone else had gone into position, Reo patiently picked Seishiro up from the ground by the armpits and steered him by the shoulders to deposit him in his spot—the white-haired teen dragging his feet all the while—but before Reo could even leave his side and go to his own position, they heard an unexpected sound come from afar.

As one, every member of the Hakuho soccer team turned their faces towards the sky, where a sleek black helicopter was fast approaching. It descended onto the vacant half of the football field, and before the landing skids could even settle on the ground properly, an imposing old woman dressed in a smart black suit jumped out and advanced towards them, her gait quick and purposeful. Seishiro felt Reo’s hands tense against him the closer she got to them.

“Ba-ya? What’s going on?” he asked once she was close enough.

“Young master Reo,” Ba-ya replied, keeping her bow brief. “An urgent matter has come up. You are to come with me immediately.”

“…All right,” Reo said. He still hadn’t let go of him.

Seishiro turned his head back to peer at him. His face was pinched with obvious worry, something Seishiro had never seen before. It made his gut churn. Reo turned his attention towards him—perhaps to bid him goodbye—but before he could even say a word, Ba-ya bowed her head slightly and spoke once again.

“It would be best if young master Seishiro came along as well.”

Seishiro blinked in surprise, utterly confused by the old lady’s suggestion. Him, too? How could the Mikage family’s emergency be any of his business? He was too preoccupied by these questions to notice Reo’s hands relaxing minutely.

“Why—” Seishiro started.

“Not now,” Reo cut him off, finally letting go of Seishiro’s shoulders only to capture his left wrist in an iron grip. “She can explain to us later.” He turned to the rest of the team. “Practice is over. Let’s go, Nagi.”

Reo tried to drag him towards the direction of the locker rooms, but Ba-ya blocked their way with an extended arm, her expression resolute.

“There is no time.” She raised her voice to address the others, giving them what Seishiro would say was almost a pitying glance. “The rest of you children should head home as well. Posthaste.”

With that, Ba-ya all but pushed Seishiro and Reo towards the helicopter, sticking close to them and turning her head this way and that.

Like she’s expecting danger, Seishiro noted to himself.

They got on the helicopter in tense silence. Reo began securing himself in his seat with practiced ease, and Seishiro watched him closely so he could copy him, but before he could even attempt to do so, Ba-ya had already snatched the straps from his hands and was putting on his complicated seatbelt for him. As soon as his last strap was buckled, Ba-ya planted herself in her own seat across from them, shoved her headphones into place, and looped a single strap over her head before barking out a command at the pilots.

They rose to the sky at a speed that made Seishiro’s stomach swoop down to his feet. Once they’d stopped ascending, he heard Reo’s controlled voice come out from the bulky headphones.

“Tell me.”

“There has been a worrying development, young master Reo,” Ba-ya began gravely. “Numerous reports of zombie outbreaks are coming in from all over the world, and the one coming from Japan has already been confirmed.”

One second.

Two.

Reo let out a laugh, sharp and unpleasant. “Zombies? You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me, Ba-ya. Oi, Nagi,” he called, punching Seishiro on the ribs too hard. “Say hi to the audience. We’re being pranked.”

Seishiro rubbed his aching side and watched Ba-ya’s unchanging expression. For once, the old woman’s prominent nose wasn’t distracting him at all. “I don’t think she’s joking, Reo,” he muttered, feeling the truth of his words settle in his bones when her eyes flicked to him with approval.

“You can’t honestly tell me you’re buying this s***, Nagi,” Reo said acerbically.

Seishiro merely held his hand out towards Ba-ya. “Phone, please.”

She fished her phone out of her pocket and unlocked it, but before she could hand it over to him, Reo intercepted it with an impatient “Give me that.”

He wasn’t normally this rude to his faithful attendant, Seishiro knew, but the stress was obviously getting to him, no matter how hard he was trying to pretend otherwise.

Reo began to type away furiously. The page loaded a moment later, and Seishiro felt his breath catch in his chest when his friend’s face turned as white as his hair. Their gazes met, and Reo shakily held the phone towards him so Seishiro could see it, too. He read the headlines from the first to the last. Distantly, he noticed his heart give a single, powerful thump.

A zombie apocalypse.

That certainly put a damper on things. Seishiro recalled all the times he played FPS games on his phone where he shot zombies coming towards him till the level got too high and the zombie waves inevitably overwhelmed him. He imagined it wouldn’t be as fun in real life. The image of Choki, left alone in his apartment, flashed in his mind’s eye, and Seishiro deflated against his seat, internally bidding his roommate farewell.

“Where are we going?” he asked Ba-ya, the words spoken as listlessly as always despite the gravity of the situation.

“To one of the Mikage private islands here in Japan, where you will be safe.”

“And Mom and Dad?” Reo asked after a while, not bothering to put up a front any longer. “Are they going to follow us there, too?”

“Master and Madam have decided to stay in your residence in France till things become more stable.”

He sat up straight suddenly, grabbing onto Seishiro’s shoulder. “Hang on. What about your parents, Nagi?”

“Dunno.”

“Eh?”

“Last time they emailed me, they said they were somewhere in America, but that was four months ago.”

“… I see.”

Seishiro stared at him blankly, wondering why he was looking at him like that, and when Reo said nothing more, he gave a slight shrug and turned his gaze towards the window. The scene below wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. At first.

It wasn’t until a few minutes had passed that they came across the first signs of chaos. There was a thick plume of smoke rising from the middle of a jampacked road, and swarms of people were running in every direction. Seishiro thought he saw red. He heard Reo curse soon after, most likely spying the same thing.

“This is insane,” he muttered viciously.

Seishiro had to agree.

Letting his head fall back against the headrest, he closed his eyes and let out a long breath through his nose.

Welp. There goes the World Cup and my easy life.

How bothersome...

#just a silly product of a word sprint #blue lock #bllk #nagi seishiro #mikage reo #fanfiction #bff writes

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22plus15 · 7 months

Text

happy international women's day!

taking a quick detour from my usual content to share a few books i've been reading about women in sports:

(p.s. i'm american so these are pretty usa-centric)

Sidelined: Sports, Culture, and Being a Woman in America by Julie DiCaro

julie dicaro recounts her own time in sports talk radio as well as the stories of many other women. great examples of how the toleration of violent or otherwise misogynistic male athletes contributes to the exclusion of women in sports media. really tough subject material at times but necessary and very eye-opening -- also less than 250pgs!

Money, Power, Respect: How Women In Sports Are Shaping The Future of Feminism by Macaela MacKenzie

split into three sections that explore how money, power, and respect (or the lack thereof) in women's sports reflect the struggles of women and afab people in larger society. i especially enjoyed that it touched on the gap in venture capital investments in women's sports and athlete sponsorship deals rather than just wages alone

Fair Play: How Sports Shape The Gender Debates by Katie Barnes

i was really excited to read this from a queer/nonbinary journalist and it did not disappoint! katie doesn’t shy away from the many complexities surrounding the intersection of gender and sport and i enjoyed reading the personal experiences of trans athletes across different sports and time periods. really accessible writing, i highly recommend if you’re interested in learning more about the history of or debate around trans inclusion in sport

bonus:

Cleat Cute by Meryl Wilsner

bonus fictional lesbian soccer romance! my fellow lesbian coworker sent me the preorder link during the world cup lol. really fun read and highly recommend for any romance lovers!

back to your regularly scheduled l&o programming!

🖤🚺👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩⚧️🤎

#international women's day #women's history month #women in sports #feminism #intersectional feminism #feminist literature #lgbt romance #lgbt books #holi #22plus15 speaks #important

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natrogersfics · 1 year

Text

Game Plan - Chapter 12: I Almost Do

Artwork by @faith2nyc Read on AO3

“Do we already have the promotional pictures from Clint’s last photoshoot?” Natasha asks, her eyes closed as she sits in the makeup chair and Nikki, the in-house stylist and makeup artist for the team, sweeps eyeshadow across her lid.

“Yep,” she hears Darcy say. “They’ve been captioned and queued up on Hootsuite. First post goes out tomorrow at 10 EST. And yes, before you ask, the hashtags have been selected and cleared as well.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” she says, peeking one eye open as Nikki reaches for a different eye brush to see Darcy’s subsequent eye roll. She chuckles. “Good to know, though. What about the reels Pietro recorded for StruckerAide?” Her question is met with silence, prompting her to turn her head to see Wanda in the corner, her back to them. “Wanda?”

“Just a second,” Wanda calls back, turning to point towards the phone she’s holding up to her ear before whispering, “Mommy has to go, Tommy, but I’m sure your cleats are in the mud room, all right? Check in there first and call me back if you still can’t find them. Okay. I love you, baby. Bye.” As she places her phone back in her pocket, Wanda looks up, a sheepish smile on her face. “Sorry about that, the boys have soccer practice at four-”

“Wanda,” she says before her coworker can go on. She smiles. “Don’t ever apologize. Your boys come first, always.”

“Thanks,” Wanda says, a grateful smile gracing her lips. “But yes, we recorded enough Reels with Pietro yesterday to space out for the next six weeks.” She shakes her head. “Though I will say, whoever thought giving my already hyperactive brother a deal with an energy drink company clearly has not had to handle him during a shoot.”

“Why do you think we gave his sister the assignment?” she quips, chuckling when Wanda only sticks her tongue out at her. “Okay, but what about-”

“T’Challa’s appearance on Trish Talk?” Darcy supplies, prompting a nod from her. “I already called to confirm that he’ll be in the studio first thing Saturday morning.” Darcy places both of her hands on her shoulders, giving them a squeeze. “Nat, we have everything covered. Relax.”

“She’s right, girl,” Nikki adds. “Seriously, I’ve never seen someone look so tense while in my makeup chair. If I weren’t so sure of my magic glam powers, I might be a teensy bit concerned that you don’t like” – she gestures towards the blush-colored blouse and olive skirt she’s wearing – “all this.”

“Of course not,” she reassures Nikki instantly. “You did a wonderful job, Nikki. Thank you, truly.” The last thing she wants to do is make Nikki feel as though she’s not grateful for pulling together the makeup and wardrobe team for this shoot, but ever since Pepper had informed her that Forbes wanted to profile her for being the youngest woman to make Vice President in the NFL, she’s been a ball of nerves. She’d tried to convince her boss that this time would be better spent with her working than participating in a photoshoot and interview, but Pepper was having none of it, citing the need to celebrate her achievement and the opportunity to convince little girls around the country that this too was a career path they could take. And once the kids were thrown into the argument, she knew there was no use in arguing. She sighs. “I’m just a little nervous. I’m used to being behind the camera, not in front of it.”

“You have nothing to be nervous about,” Nikki says, to which Wanda and Darcy chime in in agreement. “And you better get used to it, because once this cover hits the newsstands and the world gets a load of you? Girl, they won’t be able to get enough!”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Darcy says, eliciting a laugh from everyone in the room.

“Just remember who to call when that happens,” Nikki says, winking.

She chuckles. “You got it.”

It takes a couple of test shots of her behind her desk and Darcy blasting music on set, but eventually, she finds her groove in the photoshoot. While she doesn’t think she’ll ever take to being front and center this way, by the time the photographer asks her to stand by the plaque outside her office, she feels comfortable enough that they’re able to grab a couple of candid shots of her laughing at her team’s antics behind the camera. Upon her insistence that she would have never made it here without the two women causing mayhem in the back, the photographer had even agreed to snap a few shots of her, Wanda, and Darcy. That had resulted in a ruckus, with the three of them failing to keep a straight face for more than one take, but she surmises that the case of champagne Tony and Pepper had sent for the entire crew to enjoy would more than make up for it.

It's when the photographer declares that they have their cover shot that she finally sits down for her interview with Christine Everheart, the editor-in-chief of Forbes Magazine. Christine was the first person to make her interest in profiling her known, and having done Pepper’s profile when she was appointed General Manager of the Avengers way back when, Pepper had assured her that she was the best person for the job.

Not that Pepper would ever steer her wrong, but it only takes a few minutes into her interview with Christine to know that her boss’ glowing recommendation of her is well-merited. As Christine asks her to recount her journey from Executive Assistant to PR associate and now Vice President, she notes that unlike many of the interviewers she’s seen try to bait players into providing a zinging soundbite, Christine’s questions are thoughtful, complex.

“So we talked about how becoming Vice President has always been the apogee of your life goals,” Christine says, “now that you’ve made it, can you say that it’s all it’s cut out to be back when you were only imagining it? Is becoming Vice President for the Avengers everything you’ve dreamed of and more?”

“That’s a great question,” she says, shifting in her seat as she ponders her response. It’s the first time during this interview that a question has truly given her pause, and it’s not because she’s never considered it. As Christine said, this is what she’s been dreaming of her entire career. All these years, she had drilled it in her mind that achieving this feat would bring her the ultimate happiness, but up until this very moment, she hasn’t given herself the opportunity to truly consider how she feels now that her dream is a reality. She wants to say that she’s in nirvana, that she’s over the moon. But while she’s proud of what she’s accomplished and all the hard work she’s put in to get here, she’s not sure why providing Christine a resounding yes feels an awful lot like she’s lying. Even so, she finds herself mustering the best smile that she can as she gives Christine a nod. “Absolutely.”

Christine smiles at her response, but as the reporter moves onto the next question, she finds that for the first time all day, keeping the smile on her face is an arduous effort.

Weeks pass.

Natasha is swept up in her new duties as Vice President. It’s an endless flurry of meetings, events, paperwork, and interviews. In the midst of it all, she manages to have a small dinner celebration with Yelena. Even Loki drops by for a weekend, a bottle of vintage in hand. Her new life is exhausting, but also oh so fulfilling. She has the job of her dreams. Her family and friends are all behind her. Life is perfect.

On a rare night where she manages to make it back to her apartment before midnight, she’s curled up on the couch with a glass of wine when news comes on about the Avengers winning their second straight game. As the camera pans to Steve on the field, the commentators go on about how his improved performance has helped put the team back in good standing. Even as her lips pull in a little smile, she can’t help but feel the little ache in her chest. She’s happy for the team. She’s happy for Steve. But as she looks out into the vast expanse of her apartment, the space illuminated only by the light from her television screen, the quiet feels all too deafening.

Steve is on his way back home from his early morning run. He nods and waves to the occasional fan that recognizes him, even stopping a few times for a quick photo. Since the team has gone on a winning streak, slowly but surely, he’s been winning the supporters back over, and for that he’s glad.

He stops by his regular bodega, glancing at the newspaper headlines on the rack as the attendant, MJ, fills a to-go cup with his coffee. Despite knowing that their sentiments are ever fleeting and only ever as positive as his last performance, part of him is relieved to see that the coverage of the team is positive. He shifts to his left, eyes now roaming over the various magazines when he sees it – on the cover of Forbes Magazine is Natasha, looking like heaven on Earth with her green eyes gleaming and her hair pulled back neatly. He reaches for a copy, smiling as he runs a hand over her picture. A million and one emotions rush through him. Joy rises above all else, but with it is sadness, too. What he would give to be able to run to her right now, to take her in his arms and tell her how proud he is of her.

“One coffee, just as you like it,” MJ announces, breaking him out of his reverie as she sets the cup down on the counter. “Black as my soul.”

Steve chuckles. “Thanks, MJ.” He shows her the magazine in his hand. “I’ll take one of these, too,” he says, reaching for his wallet. He pulls out a bill but pauses as he begins to hand it to her, his gaze going back to the rack holding multiple copies of the magazine. “Actually, I think I’ll take them all.”

The team is gathered in the media room of the facility for a photoshoot. The Avengers partnered with a local dog shelter to create a calendar, with the proceeds going towards the shelter’s upkeep and the medical expenses of their rescues. Steve is standing with a puppy in his arms, watching as Pietro and a large Siberian Husky ham it up for the cameras. As he looks towards the entrance of the media room, he sees Natasha walk in. Though they haven’t spoken much since the press conference – only exchanging a few pleasantries here and there as they’ve passed each other at the facility – he’s been meaning to congratulate her on her recent cover and figures this time’s a good a time as any to break the ice.

With that, he makes his way over to her, and he barely contains his chuckle when he catches the way her eyes widen when she sees the massive tarp of her magazine cover, carefully nailed to the wall. “Jesus Christ.”

“Not a fan, huh?” he asks. His question startles her, prompting him to cringe when she turns to face him. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re good,” Natasha says before gesturing towards the tarp. “I just can’t seem to escape” – she gestures towards the wall – “all this.” She turns back to him, and a smile immediately forms on her lips when she sees the Basset Hound he has in tow. “And who is this handsome fella?”

“This is Humphrey,” he says, raising the pup in his arms. “He’s in search of a forever home.”

“Is that so?” Natasha says, taking Humphrey into her arms and chuckling when the dog proceeds to lick her face. “Well, with a personality like this, I’ll bet you’ll find your home in no time.”

“I concur,” he says, smiling as he watches Humphrey all but melt into Natasha’s arms. “Also, for what it’s worth, I think the cover looks great.”

“Thank you,” she says. “I don’t mean to act ungrateful or anything, it’s just…” She crinkles her nose as she tries to find the words, the way she always does when she’s uncomfortable, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling further. “It’s a bit much, is all I’m going to say.”

“The team’s ecstatic for you,” he says. “As am I. Seriously, Nat. I couldn’t be happier. I know this means everything to you.”

“Yeah…” she says, her tone faltering just a bit. “Yeah, it does.”

An emotion flashes across Natasha’s features then. What it is, he’s not entirely sure, for she blinks it away as quickly as it had appeared on her face. Nevertheless, he catches it all the same. “You okay?”

“Never better,” she says, shaking her head. Her lips turn up in a smile, though he notes the way it doesn’t truly reach her eyes. “Anyway, I actually have to get back upstairs for a meeting soon. I was just dropping something off for Bucky. Have you seen him anywhere?”

He doesn’t get to answer the question, because the man in question appears then, grinning from ear to ear as he approaches. “Congratulations on the promotion, Veep!” Bucky says, wrapping an arm around Natasha. “I’m surprised you even have the time to grace us lowly footballers with your presence these days.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless. “I actually don’t,” she says, shifting to show the paper bag she has in her hand, “but I wanted to drop these off for you before my next meeting.”

Bucky takes the bag, his eyes lighting up. “Aw, thanks, Nat!”

“Don’t mention it,” she says, looking at her watch. “And on that note, I really should go.” She looks back at Steve, offering Humphrey back to him. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” he says, taking the dog back. “See you around?”

Natasha nods, and with a smile, bids the three of them goodbye. It’s as he and Bucky are walking back towards where the rest of the team are gathered that he nods towards the bag. “Get anything good?”

“Only the best plum pastries in the city,” Bucky says, chuckling at the amused expression he shoots his way. “Nat knows I hate photoshoots because I get uncomfortable in front of cameras, so every now and then she brings me my favorite treat for agreeing to do them.”

“Gotcha,” he says, trying and failing to ignore the way his heart pulls in yearning for the thoughtful woman he’s unable to stop thinking about.

Steve visits his mom over the weekend, and though he and Sarah enjoy spending the day together, Sarah notes as the two of them sit on the stairs of her Brooklyn brownstone that despite the mess with Peggy being resolved and the Avengers going back to their winning ways, Steve seems unhappy.

Steve reveals that he misses Natasha terribly, to which Sarah quips that he really should be telling Natasha this, not her. Steve rolls his eyes, earning a playful shove on the shoulder from Sarah. Eventually, he sighs, confiding in his mom that one of the reasons he’s also keeping his distance from Natasha is the fact that he’s realized that he’s the problem. No matter what he does, with him being in the public eye, it’s clear that chaos will always follow him. And though Natasha told him before that she was in this with him come what may, that is also the same thing Peggy told him back then and look how things turned out. Steve admits that he cannot stand the idea of Natasha coming to hate him because of the trouble he brings.

Sarah puts an arm around Steve, saying that while she understands where he’s coming from, she’s not sure she agrees. She goes onto say that in relationships, fit is highly underrated. Sometimes people have this idea that love is supposed to be this all-encompassing force, that it can fix anything and sustain an entire relationship through all the rough patches. That’s not always true. Relationships work out because the people in it fit. Sarah points out that Peggy and Natasha are not the same person. Peggy needed Steve to make her the center of his universe – that doesn’t make Peggy a bad person for wanting that nor does it make him a bad person for not being able to do that for her. All it means is that they didn’t fit. Meanwhile, all Natasha wants is for Steve to let her be there for him. To be his equal. Natasha doesn’t need him to put everything on the line for her or to make himself smaller so she can shine, she just wants them to be a team.

“I don’t know her as well,” Sarah concedes, “but I have a feeling that she’s a lot stronger than you give her credit for.”

The next day, Steve paces the hall outside the locker room, his mind still on his conversation with Sarah. Admittedly, there’s a part of him that wants nothing more than to take his mother’s advice, run to Natasha’s office, and plead for another chance with her. On the other, he knows it would be the height of foolishness to pretend as though he hasn’t already seen this story unfold before.

I have a feeling she’s a lot stronger than you give her credit for.

His mother is right. Natasha is one of the strongest people he has ever had the pleasure of knowing. Then again, so was Peggy. Even after everything, he knows that his ex-wife is tough as nails. But the spotlight on him is heavy, always has been, and as long as he continues to play this game, it’s likely to stay this way. It’s capable of making even the strongest of people bend. He trusted that Peggy could handle it way back when, so he hadn’t protected her from any of it, and look where that got them. Was he willing to take the chance that this time around, he and Natasha would be stronger?

He isn’t sure of the answer. But the second he sees Natasha making her way down the hall with Wanda and Darcy on her flanks, he thinks that while he may not have an answer, maybe he can start by speaking to her.

As Natasha passes by, he asks her if she has a second to talk. She doesn’t, citing that she’s actually rushing for an impromptu meeting in the Executive Box, but that she can find him after the game. Steve agrees, a smile suddenly on his face as he watches her walk away. In any case, he needs to get in the zone. A win today could decide whether or not the Avengers have a shot at making a Wildcard spot for the playoffs. He puts the blinders on. It’s game time.

The game starts as well as he could have hoped for with the team up by a touchdown by the time the whistle blows for halftime. It isn’t until the kickoff for the third quarter that it all changes – as Clint goes for the kick, the defenseman tries to block, only for him to collide full-force with Clint’s knee. It’s a scene right out of every athlete’s worst nightmare, and as he runs to where Clint is flat on the ground, one look at the way his teammate is clutching his knee and his gut drops.

As Clint is carted off the field by the Avengers’ medical staff, Steve has flashbacks to the last time he was injured badly, remembering the fear that coursed through his entire being as he stared at the possibility that his career was over.

The Avengers manage to win the game by a slim margin, but it’s a somber victory for the entire team as they think about Clint.

Steve visits Clint at the hospital. While he himself is shaken, he swallows the feeling down to be there for his teammate. Natasha is already there when Steve enters Clint’s hospital room, and to give them some privacy, she excuses herself by telling Clint that she’ll meet Laura and the kids at the lobby and bring them up. Steve asks Clint how he’s doing, only for Clint to confirm the worst – while it’s still early, the doctor’s doubt there’s a way back for him. In any case, it doesn’t matter, Clint says that he knows it’s time to hang up his cleats. Despite the revelation, Steve notes that Clint doesn’t seem all that sad. Instead, Clint happily says that he’s looking forward to finally spending Thanksgiving with Laura and the kids.

Steve leaves when Clint’s family arrives. As he exits into the hall, he sees Natasha there, seemingly waiting for him. Natasha takes in his forlorn appearance and asks him if he’s okay. Steve insists that he’s fine, that Clint’s the one who just had his career ended by a freak accident. Natasha doesn’t fully believe him, but elects not to pry, reminding him instead that he wanted to talk to her awhile ago. Steve says not to worry about it, it wasn’t important, and leaves.

Steve sits on his couch later that night with the TV on. The talking heads on SHIELD Sports dissect their latest game, but he doesn’t hear a word they say. His mind is zeroed in on Clint’s accident today. He takes the injury as a reminder that he needs to keep his focus on football and football alone. There are no guarantees in this game, and all can be taken away in a single moment. With that, he decides that he can’t spend any more time worrying about his heart.

As if to punctuate his decision, SHIELD Sports moves onto the Soccer portion of the evening just as his attention goes back to the television. The panel discusses Matt Murdock’s latest brace for the Red Devils before one of the commentators infers that his run of form lately may be due to the new lady in his life. Just as the rest of the panel prod for more details, a picture appears on the inset of Matt at a gala with a mystery blonde. It takes a second, but eventually, Steve realizes that it’s Natasha in the photo. He shuts off his TV. Just when he thought his heart couldn’t grow any heavier, it does.

“I was wondering when you’d finally show up.”

Natasha bites back a snort as she walks up the front porch steps of her childhood home to see Melina already leaning against the doorway. She smirks. “I was a little busy making a living.”

“I know,” Melina says, raising the hand she had hidden behind her back to show her a copy of her magazine cover. “I saw.”

She chuckles just as she makes it up the final step and walks straight into Melina’s outstretched arms. As Melina wraps her tightly in her embrace, she lets out a sigh. “Hi, mom.”

“Hi, malyshka,” Melina whispers back, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her back. When they pull away, Melina cups her face between her hands. “Come, let’s go inside.”

After Melina insists on feeding her as though she’s going into hibernation, they end up in the farmhouse out back that Melina had converted into her home lab. As her mother explains her latest research – a genetics study on pot-bellied pigs that sounds promising – she finds herself transported back to her childhood. If she could pinpoint one place where all her dreams began, it would be here, right in the very stool she’s perched on, the one right across from where Melina is standing, a microscope laid out before her.

This is where she had spent many afternoons watching Melina hard at work, scrupulously taking notes on the pad to her right while she examined a plethora of petri dishes and test tubes lined neatly before her. Though she was supposed to be doing her homework all those times, she couldn’t help but find herself entranced by the way her mother got lost in her work and the sheer concentration she placed into it. She can’t say that she’s always understood what Melina was working on, nor has she ever been truly intrigued by the field the way Yelena was and still is, but what she does know is that this where she realized that with hard work and dedication, all her goals could be within reach. After all, she’s watched Melina do it all her life – raise two strong-willed girls on her own, touch the lives of many students as a professor, and work to revolutionize her field day in and day out.

“Your sample preparation could use some work,” Melina says later on, playfully bumping her shoulder with hers. “You want to place the cover slip at an angle so it covers both the slide and the drop.”

“I’m the Communications major, remember?” she says. “If you wanted perfect samples, you should’ve called Yelena.”

“Maybe so,” Melina says, “but when both your daughters are busy bees, you take whichever one shows up at your front door first.”

“Mom…” she says, rising from her seat to stand next to Melina. “We’re really sorry it’s taken this long for at least one of us to come up here. It’s just the last few weeks-”

“Have been really busy, I know,” Melina finishes for her, putting an arm around her and dusting a kiss to her temple. “I was only kidding, malyshka. Well, partly kidding, at least.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m really glad we did this today, mom.”

Though she makes a mental note to prioritize visiting more often, her words aren’t just meant to placate her mother. In the few hours since she’s arrived back here, she finds that the time she’s spent with Melina has been the antidote she’s been searching for all this time. Here, watching her mother go about her work as the both of them recount stories of her childhood, she’s found the much-needed solace she’s been yearning for all these weeks.

“Why did it take so long for you to come here?” Melina asks, turning to face her.

She rolls her lips, contemplating her response. Truth be told, it’s not as though she didn’t want to come here all along. It’s that she knew that if she did, she would inevitably have to tell Melina why she’s been avoiding this very conversation, and she just wasn’t certain she could handle seeing the disappointed look on her mother’s face on top of everything else that’s been on her plate as of late. But she’s here now, and though she still dreads seeing it, she knows she can no longer skirt around the explanation. She sighs. “I didn’t come here because I was ashamed.”

“Ashamed?” Melina says, a V forming between her brows as she ponders the word. “What in the world of?”

“Of… everything, mom,” she admits with a shrug. “I am the Vice President of the New York Avengers. I am the youngest person to achieve this in the industry. This is all I’ve been imaging from the time I got the job, and now…” She lets out a shaky breath. “And now I can’t seem to be happy? And why… because I can’t be with the person I’ve fallen for?” She shakes her head, swallowing the lump that’s formed in her throat. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Oh, malyshka.” Melina reaches out to wipe the tears she hadn’t even realized were rolling down her cheeks. “Hey, look at me,” Melina implores, and the second she looks up to meet her eyes, she smiles. “You have never been a disappointment to me. I am so proud of you.”

She shakes her head. “I’ve made so many mistakes, mom,” she says. “I was in so deep that I almost threw everything away. I wanted to escape the pain I was feeling so badly that I nearly accepted a job from a person I barely knew, and if Steve hadn’t…” She pauses to take a deep breath, unable to finish her sentence as she’s reminded of the consequences that’s kept her up every night since the press conference. She sighs. “That’s why it took me so long to come here. Because I was so ashamed. Ashamed that you taught me and Yelena that pain only makes us stronger and to never lose our hearts, and then here I am, crumbling under the weight of all my actions after serving my heart to someone on a silver platter.”

“Natasha,” Melina coos, pulling her back into her arms.

It’s there, engulfed in the safety of Melina’s embrace and with the admissions she’s been struggling to come to terms with finally out in the open, that she feels a weight lift off her shoulders. For the first time in weeks, it’s as though she’s back on the ground, truly finding her footing. She gives Melina a squeeze, forever grateful for the woman who has never failed to set her right, to keep her going even when she herself couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel.

When they finally pull away, Melina chuckles quietly. “Oh, my darling, you have always been the most methodic of my girls.”

“Last I checked, that isn’t a bad thing,” she quips even as she swipes away her tears.

“It’s not,” Melina concedes, “but life rarely goes by the book, malyshka.” She shoots Melina a confused stare at that, prompting her mother to smile softly. “I assume you’ve been keeping your distance from Steve?”

“I’ve seen him here and there,” she says. “Hard to avoid someone you work with.” Melina shoots her a withering look, to which she sighs. “Before all of this, I told him that I choose him, come what may, and I meant it. I didn’t care about his past or the firestorm that he was about to get sucked into, regardless of how ugly it was going to get. But then when he told me he couldn’t be with me…” She sighs. “And I know the truth now, I know he only did it to protect me, but… these past few weeks I felt as though I completely lost who I was. As though I didn’t know what to do, how to move forward… I was prepared for the media, and for Peggy, and for everything else that came with loving him… I guess I just didn’t think I’d have to prepare for him breaking my heart.”

Melina nods silently. “I understand,” she says. “It’s difficult, isn’t it? Accepting that the people we love the most can be the ones to bring us the most pain.”

“I thought I knew why you told us way back when not to lose our hearts,” she says. “I suppose I didn’t understand its importance until now.”

“Oh, Natasha, that’s still not why,” Melina says with a shake of her head. “When I told you girls not to lose your heart, I never meant for you to take that as to never give your heart to anyone.”

“You didn’t?”

Melina shakes her head. “Natasha, you will get hurt in this world,” she says. “As much I wish I could protect you from that, I can’t. People will hurt you, even and sometimes most especially, those that love you.” She sighs. “The ones that truly love you, they will never do it on purpose. But sometimes, life… it deviates from the plan, and when that happens…” She moves closer to her, placing a hand over her heart. “Don’t let it harden you, especially not in there.”

It’s the day of the Wildcard game. The stadium is electric – the stands reverberating with the stomps of thousands of fans. Steve stands by the mouth of the tunnel, going through his pre-game ritual when Natasha approaches him. He tries not to dwell on his decision the night before, but the air between them is stiff and they both feel it. When he asks Natasha if there’s anything he can help her with, she concedes that while she knows this isn’t the perfect time to talk given that the game’s about to start, she hopes he can find her after if he has the time. He’s reluctant – afraid of what this conversation might entail – but ultimately tells her that he’ll try to find her after the game. Satisfied with his response, Natasha wishes him luck before making her way to the Executive Box.

The game against the Thunderbolts is intense, with the bad blood from the Pro Bowl still unforgotten. Hoskins, the Thunderbolts’ quarterback is a gun slinger, throwing perfect spiral after perfect spiral. But it’s the intensity with which John Walker plays that’s been sending the game into chaos.

The score is tied in the second when Steve lines up to take the throw, but within seconds from receiving the ball, the pocket collapses and he has no other choice but to run. He makes it a few yards when he sees Walker coming for him, but he doesn’t have enough time to make it out of bounds before the defenseman barrels into him, full force. The ball flies out of Steve’s hand and into the turf as he falls to the ground, but unlike the last time, he’s unable to get up.

Chapter 11 | Chapter 13

Disclaimer: scenes in this chapter have been abbreviated in light of my decision to step away from writing. As such, a shift in writing style from the earlier chapters may be noticed.

#Game Plan #Romanogers #one night stand AU #Steve Rogers #Natasha Romanoff

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