wosomaanum

[wosomaanum]

Is anyone interested in a Kyra Cooney-Cross slow burn? If enough people want it I’d consider it…

[wosomaanum]

Apologies for late updates! Will be posting soon :)

[wosomaanum]

Just In Time | Frida Maanum

Summary: You and Frida decide to go to a party where not everything goes to plan

Warnings: creepy people, homophobia, alcohol, party things yk

You and Frida are getting ready in your shared apartment, the scent of her favorite vanilla body spray mingling with the faint sound of indie music playing in the background. Frida stands in front of the mirror, adjusting her earrings, while you fuss with the shirt. She catches your eye in the reflection, offering a reassuring smile.

"Ready to go?" she asks, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Yeah, let's do this," you reply, taking her hand as you head out the door.

The walk to the party is filled with light conversation and laughter, Frida's presence always a source of comfort and joy. When you arrive, the house is already buzzing with energy, music pumping through the walls, and groups of people scattered around, talking and dancing.

“Wow, it’s crowded in here.” You state, a hint of uncertainty present in your voice.

“It is. Just stay close yeah?” Frida replies, her thick Norwegian accent peaking through.

“Don’t worry, nothings going to happen.” You reply, you weren’t sure if you were trying to reassure Frida or yourself.

“Darling, I know you can handle yourself. I’d much rather be safe than sorry. Just let me know roughly where you’re gonna go and remember: you have a phone for a reason.” She stays, matter of factly.

“Right. I’m just gonna go to the toilet then alright? Love you.” You kiss Frida on the cheek offering her a smile to what she exchanges cutely.

On your way to the bathroom, you decide to take a look in the kitchen to scout out the drinks. You were by no means a drinker but you knew Frida was the designated driver. Which meant two things:

1. You could get tipsy

2. You could only get tipsy. Not flat out drunk. Or Frida would be on your back.

The kitchen is packed, but you manage to find a spot near the counter. As you pour yourself a drink (okay, just a quick one), a guy you don’t recognise sidles up next to you. He's taller than you, with an overly confident smirk plastered on his face.

"Hey there," he says, leaning in a bit too close for comfort. "I haven't seen you around here before. Can I get you another drink?"

"No, thanks. I'm good," you reply, trying to keep your tone polite but firm. You were already feeling tipsy by now as you had spontaneously chugged down two solo cups worth. You knew Frida would be scolding you later - but that didn’t matter right now.

He doesn't take the hint, instead stepping even closer. "Come on, just one drink. What's the harm?"

You glance around, hoping to spot Frida, but she's still across the room, chatting with some friends. "I said no, thanks," you repeat, more forcefully this time.

The guy's smirk fades slightly, but he doesn't back off. "Don't be like that. I'm just trying to be friendly."

You try to step away, but he blocks your path, his presence becoming more oppressive. "Seriously, I don't want a drink," you say, louder this time, hoping someone nearby will notice.

His eyes narrow slightly, and he leans in even closer, his breath hot on your ear. "Why are you being such a prude? I'm just being nice."

Panic starts to bubble up inside you, your heart racing as you try to push him away. "Leave me alone," you demand, your voice trembling.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Relax, I'm not going to bite. Just trying to have a conversation. What's your name?"

You take a step back, trying to put some distance between you. "It's none of your business," you snap, hoping to sound more confident than you feel.

He rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed. "No need to be so rude. I'm just asking a simple question."

"Look, I'm here with someone," you say, trying a different tactic. "I'm not interested."

"Oh, come on," he says, his tone turning condescending. "Whoever it is, they can't be that great if they left you alone. Just one drink, and if you still want me to leave, I will."

You shake your head, backing up further. "I already told you, I'm not interested. Please, just leave me alone. And don’t insult my girlfriend.”

His expression darkens, and he steps forward again, ignoring your plea. "You know, you're making this a lot harder than it needs to be."

"I don't care," you snap, louder this time, hoping the raised volume will attract someone's attention. "I said no. Now back off."

He laughs, a harsh, mocking sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "Feisty, I like that. Come on, just one drink. It's not going to kill you."

Desperation starts to creep in as you look around the room, searching for a familiar face. "I'm not interested," you repeat, your voice shaking with anger and fear. "Why can't you just take no for an answer?"

"Because I'm not used to hearing it," he replies smugly. "You're not going to find anyone better than me here, so why not just give it a shot?"

You glance around again, feeling trapped. "Look, you're making me really uncomfortable. Please, just go away."

"Uncomfortable?" he scoffs. "I'm just talking to you. You don't have to be so dramatic."

"I'm not interested because I'm here with my girlfriend," you say, hoping that will make him back off.

His expression changes, a sneer spreading across his face. "Oh, so you're one of those. That explains a lot."

"Did I not already tell you that? And, What do you mean by that?" you ask, feeling a surge of anger mix with your fear.

"Just that it makes sense why you're so uptight," he says, leaning in closer again. "Trying to play the victim, huh? You think you're too good for a guy like me because you like girls?"

"That's none of your business," you say firmly, trying to keep your voice steady. "Just leave me alone."

"Come on, don't be like that," he says, his voice dripping with condescension. "Maybe you just haven't been with the right guy yet."

"Back off," you say, louder now, hoping someone will notice and intervene.

"What's going on here?" Frida's voice cuts through the tension, her tone calm but authoritative. She walks up, her eyes immediately assessing the situation. Sliding her arm around your waist, she fixes the guy with a steady gaze. "Is there a problem?"

The guy looks between the two of you, clearly irritated. "We were just talking," he says, attempting to brush off the situation.

Frida tightens her hold on you, her eyes not leaving his. "It didn't look like she wanted to talk," she says calmly but firmly. "She told you to leave her alone."

"Mind your own business," he snaps, his bravado faltering slightly under Frida's intense gaze.

Frida maintains her calm demeanor, her voice unwavering. "She is my business. If she asked you to leave her alone, you should respect that."

He hesitates, clearly not used to being challenged. "Look, I'm not trying to start anything. Just having a conversation," he says, his tone trying to sound reasonable but failing.

Frida's expression softens slightly as she addresses him again. "Look, she clearly doesn't want to continue this conversation. Let's all just move on and enjoy the party, okay?"

"Whatever," he mutters, but he doesn't move.

Frida remains calm, her grip on you firm but gentle. "Did you not hear her? She's not interested. Leave us alone."

The guy's face flushes with anger and embarrassment. "I just don't get you people," he says, his voice rising. "Always playing the victim card. Maybe if you weren't such prudes, you'd see how stupid this all is."

"Excuse me?" Frida's voice remains calm, but there's an edge to it now. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me," he snaps, his bravado returning. "You lesbians always think everyone's out to get you. Maybe if you tried being normal for once, you wouldn't have these problems."

Frida takes a deep breath, her eyes never leaving his. "We're not the problem here. You are. We're here to have a good time, just like everyone else. If you can't handle that, maybe you should leave."

"Oh, I'm the problem now?" he scoffs. "You two are just asking for trouble, flaunting your lifestyle in everyone's faces."

"Enough," Frida says, her voice firm but controlled. "This conversation is over. Leave us alone."

He glares at both of you, clearly frustrated. "Fine, whatever. You're not worth the trouble." He turns and stalks off into the crowd, disappearing from view.

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding and turn to Frida, who is watching you with concern.

"You okay?" she asks, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Yeah, thanks. He just wouldn't take a hint," you reply, leaning into her touch.

"I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to deal with that and I’m sorry I didn’t get to you quicker. Let's get out of here," Frida suggests softly. "This place is too crowded anyway and you need to get home before it’s dark."

You nod, grateful for her suggestion. She keeps an arm around you as you both navigate through the throng of people and out into the cooler night air. The drive home is quieter, but Frida's presence beside you is as comforting as ever.

When you reach your apartment, she unlocks the door and lets you in first, her protective instincts still in high gear. Inside, you kick off your shoes and collapse onto the couch, feeling the tension of the evening finally start to fade.

Frida sits next to you, her hand resting on your knee. "You sure you're okay?" she asks again, her eyes searching yours.

"I'm fine now," you assure her, taking her hand in yours. "Thanks for stepping in. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't."

"Anytime," she says with a soft smile. "You know I've got your back."

You lean against her, feeling safe and loved. The party might not have been what you expected, but having Frida by your side makes everything better.

“I can’t believe he said all that. I know I was tipsy but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out his intentions, in fact I think the ‘prude’ may have done it.”

“It’s best not to think about it hey. He was a total dickhead but I’m just glad your safe that’s the most important thing. Let’s just calm down now and we can talk more in the morning if need be. I’m here for you, you know that.”

The rest of the evening is spent in the comfort of your apartment, wrapped up in each other. Frida makes sure you're okay, periodically checking in with gentle touches and reassuring words. She walks you through your feelings, letting you vent about the guy and how he made you feel, always listening intently.

As the night grows later, she suggests you both watch a movie to distract from the earlier ordeal. You agree, and soon you're cuddled up on the couch, the soft glow of the TV casting a warm light over the room. Frida holds you close, her arms wrapped around you.

————-

You wake up the next morning encased by Frida’s strong arms. You both stir awake.

“You know, now that you are feeling better, I think we better discuss you downing two vodkas eh?”

[wosomaanum]

Pains | Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: You we’re on day two of your period, and it hurt everywhere. You’re girlfriend, Jessie was there to help.

Warnings: anything to do with periods, medication

Notes: Short

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You were wrapped up in bed, clutching your stomach. You felt horrible and just miserable. Not only were you having severe cramps and dealing with your period, but you had a horrible headache.

“Hey babe, I saw this really cool resta-“ your girlfriend, Jessie is soon cut off by her own concern as she enters the room - her speech that trailed along the hallway coming to a halt.

“Baby what’s wrong?” Jess says instinctively, her freckles highlighted by the sun hitting her face - perfectly framing her features. All of which you adored.

“I promise it’s not that bad. I’m fine, really.” You knew you weren’t, and you knew Jessie knew that too.

Jessie cutely grumbled in a soft tone. “I know you’re not. Are you on your period, is it cramps? What do you need me to get you?” A sudden plethora of questions escaped her mouth.

“Jessie I said I’m fine.”

“You are not fine. I’m gonna get you a few things. Just stay here.”

You told her not to bother, but your words fell on deaf ears.

Soon, Jessie returned. A hot water bottle clutched in her arm and some medication and water in the other. She speed walked over to your side and crouched down next to the bed as she examined your face.

“Hey hey. It’s okay I’m here.” She comforts you, as she places the hot water bottle on your stomach. She brushes some loose strands of hair out of your face.

“I’ve got some paracetamol okay? Come on let’s just sit up for a moment.” She gently guides you so your back is against the headboard before she hands you your medication. You drink it, reluctantly - knowing your too stubborn to let others take care of you.

"Here you go, love," she says softly, handing you the medication and water. "This should help a bit.”

You didn’t grow up in a house of affection. You weren’t use to it and it made you feel awkward. You were stubborn, and you knew it but Jessie made you better. Overtime, she made a dent in your stubborn exterior slowly and slowly peeling back the layers. Of course, there was still times you felt like you were a burden but Jessie always reassured you that you weren’t.

The truth is you weren’t.

———————

Throughout the day, Jessie ensures you are as comfortable as possible. She prepares meals that are not only nutritious but also easy on your stomach. Whether it's a bowl of hearty vegetable soup or a plate of fresh fruit, she prioritizes your well-being with every bite.

"How about some soup for lunch?" she suggests. "I made your favorite vegetable soup.

"That sounds perfect," you reply, grateful for her thoughtfulness.

Understanding that rest is crucial, she encourages you to take it easy, often taking over household chores to allow you some much-needed relaxation.

"Why don't you lie down for a bit? I'll handle the laundry," she says, giving you a reassuring smile.

When the pain gets intense, Jessie is there with a stash of your favorite chocolates and a comforting hand. She’ll sit with you, holding your hand, or massaging your lower back when the cramps are unbearable.

"Do you need anything else?" she asks, her eyes full of concern. "Let me know if the cramps get worse."

"Just having you here helps a lot," you admit, squeezing her hand.

In the evenings, Jessie suggests watching your favorite shows or movies, a welcome distraction.

"How about we watch that new comedy series you've been wanting to see?" she offers, dimming the lights and creating a cozy atmosphere. You snuggle up together on the couch, her warmth and care transforming these difficult days into manageable ones.

Jessie’s unwavering support not only eases the physical discomfort but also makes you feel profoundly loved and cared for. "I don't know what I'd do without you," you whisper, snuggled against her.

"You'll never have to find out," she replies, kissing your forehead gently.

[wosomaanum]

Master list

Account just started - stuff will be added in due time. Check out my WIPS for new additions and summaries!

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WIPS

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Frida Maanum

Sickness

Just in time

Jessie Fleming

Pains

[wosomaanum]

WIPS

Contains summary’s. Anything on this list is released within a week of it being added.

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Frida Maanum

Winners! - You and Frida win a game of pool against Leah and Vic.

Tease - Your team teases you and Frida.

Jessie Fleming

Really? - Jessie tells you she loves you, you don’t believe it.

A Canadians guide to Christmas - You spend Christmas in Canada with Jessie and her family.

More added soon, after I release a few more!

[wosomaanum]

Sickness | Frida Maanum x Reader

Summary: You had been ill all day. At training, at home and at night. So bad you had passed out. Luckily for you, your girlfriend Frida was at your side.

Warnings: Fluff, medication, fainting.

Note: First every fic, sorry if it’s not amazing.

You woke up abruptly, in a hot sweat. Your heart beating outside of your chest as you stared at the alarm clock: 2:34 AM you laid back down slowly, trying not to wake your sleeping girlfriend. Your head was lying on her chest and she had you wrapped around her arms by your waist.

“Y/N.” She grumbled. Suddenly you felt awful as you just woke her up, knowing you both needed the sleep for training at 8AM.

“Sorry baby, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” You whispered softly as you laid back down on her chest.

“Don’t be sorry, kjæreste. Why are you awake?” She whispered to you softly as she shifted her body up so her back was against the headboard - forcing you to shift up too as you laid your shoulder on hers.

“Uh. Just heard a sound…that’s all.” You lied, in attempts to not worry her.

She rolled her eyes playfully as she turned the lamp on causing you to squint your eyes and bury your head into her neck.

“Min kjærlighet. You know I am always here to talk to. Your my girlfriend, I know you well enough to know when you are lying. You’re sick again aren’t you?” She played with your hair and kissed your forehead as you stayed buried into her side.

“Slightly.”

She put some space in between you, just enough so she could see your face. She placed the back of her hand against your forehead. When she pulled back, her eyes were filled with concern and worry. You looked up her as she exchanged a knowing glance.

“Flu. You’re boiling and your sweating. Ser du? Let me get you some medication, I’ll be right back baby.” She got up out the bed as you whined at her trying to explain how it wasn’t that big a deal. It was clear she wasn’t having any of it - her protective side slipping through.

You knew Frida would have it her way, as she usually did when it came to your health and your safety - it was her main priority making sure that you were safe as she couldn’t bare it if anything happened to you. You didn’t even bother to convince her anymore - you knew you were the exact same towards her.

Shortly after, Frida appeared again with a glass of water and some medicine. Placing them on your beside table she crawled back into the bed next to you. You tried to lean your head against her before she retaliated.

“Medicine first, then cuddles. Yeah?” She said softly stroking a loose strand of hair out of your face. You smiled at her sweetly and with one large gulp of water, swallowed the medicine she had gotten you. This time, when you went to cuddle into her, she let you. You were up against her chest as you faced each other and she had placed her chin on top of your head.

“Sleep now yeah? You need rest, we will check again in the morning if you can train or not.”

“Of course I’ll be able to train! We have a match soon.”

“Baby. If you’re sick you’re staying home. Remember last time? You threw up on the field and had to go home with me. Let’s just sleep now.”

————————

You woke up just hours later as your alarmed blared. Frida stirred awake beside you before digging her nose into the side of your neck.

“Frida, baby. We need to get up.”

She mumbled something that you couldn’t make out before reluctantly sitting up.

“How are you feeling?” She said softly whilst scanning my face.

“Fine. Good enough to train.” I still felt a bit off, but I knew I was well enough to train.

Or so I thought.

——————

Training that day was grueling. We had been on the pitch for hours, running drills, working on plays, and pushing our bodies to the limit. The sun hung high in the sky, casting an unforgiving heat over the field. I could feel the sweat pouring down my back, soaking into my jersey, and my legs felt like lead with every sprint. But I pushed on, determined to improve, to be better. We all did; it was the kind of dedication our coach demanded.

Beside me, Frida was her usual fierce self. She had this intensity about her, a fire in her eyes that made her unstoppable on the field. It was one of the things that drew me to her when we first met. Watching her now, powering through the drills, you wouldn't guess she was concerned about anything other than the ball at her feet.

But she was worried about me. I could see it in the way she glanced over whenever she thought I wasn't looking. I had still even feeling off all morning – a headache that wouldn't go away, a queasiness in my stomach that came in waves. I had lied to her, not wanting to worry her, but she knew me too well. Each time we paused for water or a quick strategy talk, her eyes would scan me, searching for signs of weakness or discomfort.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked during one of these breaks, her voice low so the others wouldn't hear.

"I'm fine," I lied, offering her a weak smile. "Just tired, I guess."

She didn't look convinced, but there wasn't time to argue. The whistle blew, and we were back at it, running through our formations, perfecting our passes. The heat was relentless, and I could feel my energy draining with every passing minute. I tried to shake it off, focusing on the game, on the instructions from our Jonas, but the pounding in my head was getting worse.

By the time we moved to scrimmage, I was struggling to keep up. My vision was starting to blur at the edges, and I felt a cold sweat break out despite the sweltering heat. Frida was on the opposite side of the field, but I could feel her eyes on me, even from a distance.

"Come on, get it together," I muttered to myself, trying to summon the strength to push through. But my body wasn't listening.

I don't remember much about the moment I hit the ground. One second I was sprinting, the next everything went dark. There was a brief sensation of falling, a distant sound of someone shouting my name, and then nothing.

When I came to, I was lying on my back, staring up at the bright blue sky. The sun was still blazing, but it felt like there was a shadow blocking some of its intensity. Slowly, my vision cleared, and I realized the shadow was Frida. She was kneeling beside me, her face etched with worry, her hands on my shoulders, gently shaking me.

"Hey, can you hear me?" she asked, her voice tight with concern.

I tried to speak, but my mouth was dry, my throat felt raw. I managed a nod, blinking as I tried to focus on her face.

"Thank God," she breathed, relief flooding her features. She glanced up, shouting to the others, “She's awake! Get the medics!”

I could hear the murmurs of my teammates, the pounding of their footsteps as they gathered around. But my attention was on Frida.. She looked so scared, more scared than I had ever seen her, and it made my heart ache.

"I'm sorry," I croaked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't you dare apologize," she said fiercely, her grip on my shoulders tightening. "You scared the hell out of me. What happened? Are you okay?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to remember. "Just… felt dizzy. Couldn't… couldn't keep up."

She shook her head, her expression softening slightly. "You should have told me you weren't feeling well. We could have stopped, taken a break."

"I didn't want to worry you," I admitted, feeling foolish now.

She sighed, brushing a strand of hair away from my forehead. "Idiot. Of course I'm going to worry. You're my girlfriend. And my teammate. I need you to be okay."

I managed a weak smile, reaching up to squeeze her hand. "I'm sorry," I repeated, more earnestly this time.

The medic arrived then, kneeling beside us. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice gruff but not unkind.

"Better," I said, though it wasn't entirely true. "Just need a minute."

He nodded, his eyes assessing. "Take all the time you need. We'll get you some water, cool you down. No more pushing yourself today, understood?"

"Understood," I agreed, grateful for the reprieve.

Frida stayed by my side, her presence a steadying force as I slowly sat up. Vic handed me a bottle of water, and I took it gratefully, sipping slowly. The cold liquid was a relief, soothing my dry throat and cooling my overheated body.

"You really scared me," Frida said again, her voice quieter now, meant just for me.

"I know," I said, looking into her eyes. "I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again." I replied, half jokingly.

"You better not," she said, but her tone was softer, more teasing now. "Or I'll bench you myself."

I chuckled, wincing slightly at the residual pain in my head. "Deal."

We stayed like that for a while, just the two of us, even as the team continued training around us. Frida refused to leave my side, and I was grateful for it. Her concern, her care, it meant more to me than I could put into words.

Eventually, the coach called an end to practice, and my teammates started to disperse. A few of them came over to check on me, offering words of encouragement and pats on the back. It was comforting to know they cared, but it was Frida’s presence that made all the difference.

As we slowly made our way off the field, her arm around my waist, supporting me, I couldn't help but feel lucky. Not just because I had come out of the fainting spell relatively unscathed, but because I had someone like Frida by my side. She was more than just my girlfriend; she was my rock, my partner, my teammate in every sense of the word.

"Let's get you home," she said softly, her eyes full of concern and something deeper, something that made my heart swell with love. "You need rest."

"Yeah," I agreed, leaning into her. "Home sounds good."

As we walked together, leaving the pitch behind, I knew that no matter what challenges we faced, on or off the field, we would face them together. And that was more than enough for me.