adoringdanvers

[adoringdanvers]

— BUT I’M A CHEERLEADER (part 3)

— summary: you try to cope with what happened. nat notices. masterlist.

— warnings: period typical homophobia. angst. hurt/comfort. fluff. friends to lovers.

nat has always been good at reading people. it’s a survival skill more than anything; you learn to read people when you grow up like she did, learn to predict their next moves. it’s also one of the things that’s made her such a strong player on the field: she can sense when an opponent is off balance, when the game isn’t quite going their way. that’s when she knows it is her turn to strike.

right now, it’s not the soccer she’s worried about. it’s you.

since the night at the arcade and bowling alley, things have felt different. you’ve been distant, not quite yourself, but nat can’t put her finger on it. it’s like she’s missing the center piece of a puzzle.

it’s subtle at first. in the hallway before first period, she catches sight of you by your locker, but when she raises a hand to wave, you’re already turning away. you disappear into the crowd like you didn’t see her. perhaps you really didn’t.

usually, you’re the one who greets her with that big, easy smile. it doesn’t sit right with her that that is gone.

later that day, when she sees you again, even your posture is unlike you. there’s a tension in the way you hold yourself, like you’re bracing for something to happen.

even the cheerleaders you’re usually surrounded by seem to act different. they’re too stiff. too quiet.

she debates walking over, but something holds her back. nat doesn’t want to push it if you’re having a bad day. besides, she has a game coming up and jackie’s already on her about ‘not getting distracted’.

still, the suspicion deepens as the day drags on. even during practice, she can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. the other yellowjackets are their usual rowdy selves, joking around as they warm up, but nat can’t focus. her passes are sloppy, her shots off-target. when jackie calls her out in passing, nat just shrugs, muttering something about a bad night’s sleep.

she keeps glancing at the sidelines, half-expecting you to show up. you’d usually be there, exiting gym with some of the other girls from cheer squad.

it’s not until the end of practice, when van throws her an arm and says, “oh, by the way, saw your little cheerleader watching us yesterday,” that some of the pieces start to fall into place.

nat freezes, water bottle halfway to her mouth. “what?”

“your girl,” van says with a grin, peeling off her gloves. “she was out by the bleachers during warm-ups. thought she’d come say hi, but she didn’t stick around long. weird, huh?”

nat frowns, her mind racing. she doesn’t get a chance to ask because practice ends, and jackie’s already calling out that everyone’s heading to the diner.

she barely hears the rest of van’s words, and doesn’t follow the team that night. she heads home with her mind tangled in questions instead, too preoccupied with worrying about you to enjoy the usual yellowjacket-bonding activities jackie suggests. the thoughts gnaw at her. maybe you were just passing through. maybe it didn’t mean anything.

it is so unlike herself to spend as much time worrying about somebody else. a cheerleader, out of all people.

nat scoffs and pushes her headphones over her ears, flipping the tape in her walkman to rewind. whatever you’re doing to her, she doesn’t like it.

the next day, things feel off again.

nat starts looking for you in the hallways between classes, expecting at least a smile or a shy greeting, but you’re nowhere to be found.

when she does catch a glimpse of you -on your way out of the cafeteria, books clutched tight to your chest- you move like you’re in a hurry, and she doesn’t have time to call out to you before you disappear down the next hall.

her frustration mounts over the next few days. you don’t sit at the same spot on the bleachers during practice. you don’t linger near the field after school. you don’t wave at her in passing. she doesn’t even see you with the rest of the cheerleaders at practice.

it’s not outright avoidance, nat tells herself, you’re probably just busy. but it’s the absence that stings. the absence of you, and the silence that comes with it. nat hates that she cares.

but she does, to a point where even van starts to notice:

“hey, whatever happened to your cheerleader?” she asks casually one afternoon, tossing a soccer ball up and catching it repeatedly. “thought she’d be hanging around more by now. did you scare her off or something?”

“oh fuck off,” she mutters, lacing up her cleats. “maybe she’s just got other stuff going on?”

van doesn’t press, but nat can feel her curious gaze lingering. she’s not sure what it is with the yellowjackets’ goalkeeper, but something in the way van glances her way tells nat that she knows more than she lets on.

by the time the week ends, nat’s patience has run thin. she spends practice distracted, eyes flicking to the gym’s exit every chance she gets, hoping to catch sight of you.

nothing.

it’s friday, and the team is gathered on the field, but nat is barely paying attention.

“are you okay?” jackie calls from the sidelines, clearly fully in her role as the team’s captain as she stretches one leg out in front of her.

“yeah,” nat says, but it comes out too sharp. she busies herself with tightening her laces, trying to ignore the knot forming in her stomach. jackie raises an eyebrow at her tone, but van is already jogging over before she can ask further questions. “still thinking about your cheerleader?”

nat shoots her a glare. van just smirks.

“i’m just saying,” she holds up her hands up in mock surrender. “if i were you, i’d just ask her what’s up! easier than moping about it!”

“i’m not moping,” nat snaps, but van is running off again, laughing at something tai is calling out in their direction.

nat bites back a sarcastic reply, knowing jackie is still in earshot. besides, van is right: it’s not like you’ve vanished. you’re just…distant. out of reach. it’s starting to feel like you’ve put up some kind of wall that nat can’t get past.

she doesn’t know why it’s bothering her so much, but it is.

monday comes too quickly.

the weekend hadn’t been nearly enough time to figure out what to do, to pick yourself up after everything that happened, or to muster the courage to face the week ahead.

you’d considered skipping school entirely, at least for a few days. it’s not like you haven’t done it before, but this feels different.

only the thought of walking those halls again, of hearing the whispers and feeling the stares burn into your back, makes you feel nauseous. the cheer squad’s words still echo in your mind. you’ve replayed the confrontation too many times, trying to figure out where it all went wrong, trying to convince yourself that maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought. but it was. you know it was.

you almost don’t make it to school at all: you stare at the ceiling for an extra hour that morning, the temptation of just saying in bed much more pleasant than having to face it all over again. you could stay home. no one would care. no one would even notice.

in the end of the day, and pathetically enough, it is the thought of nat that gets you out of bed: her laugh, her warmth, the way she looked at you when you felt like everything was falling apart in that party bathroom. the way she stood up for you at the arcade. she’s the first person who ever dared to speak to your ex like this and she did it for you.

you make it to school, at least, but it doesn’t feel much like an accomplishment. every step down the hallway feels more like a punishment, every glance thrown your way sharper than the last.

by the time lunch rolls around, you’re ready to call it quits and leave, but as you make your way into the cafeteria, something stops you in your tracks.

it’s nat.

she’s sitting with van, laughing about something. her hair is in its usual mess, her jacket -the one she let you borrow- slung over one shoulder.

you curls your hands to fists by your sides, debating whether to slip out unnoticed. before you can decide on what to do, she looks up.

nat sees you and catches up with you before you make it to the door and escape the confrontation.

“hey!” she calls, her voice cutting through the cafeteria noise. “wait up!”

you freeze, despite every muscle in your body screaming for you to keep walking. when you turn around, nat is closing the distance between you, her expression soft but still cautious.

“hey,” you manage to say, barely above a whisper.

she tilts her head. “what’s going on with you?”

“nothing. i’m fine,”

nat doesn’t buy it. “bullshit,” she scoffs. “you’ve been avoiding me all week. you barely even look at me anymore. did i do something?”

her assumption hits like a punch to the gut. of course she’d think this is about her. of course she’d blame herself.

“no!” you promise quickly, shaking your head. “it’s not you. i swear!”

“then what is it?” she asks, her voice softer now, yet still firm. “because something is wrong. don’t tell me it’s nothing, because i know it’s not!”

you glance around the cafeteria, all the noise and movement suddenly overwhelming. your skin prickles with the sensation of too many eyes, too many voices.

“can we not do this here?”

“come on,” nat says, noticing your discomfort and jerking her head toward the exit. she steers you outside, past the parking lot and down the familiar route to the soccer field. it’s cooler out here, but quieter too. she stops by the bleachers, climbing up a few rows before settling down and gesturing for you to join her. the wide-open space seems almost jarring after the cramped, noisy cafeteria. it feels better. less suffocating.

“okay,” nat says, leaning back on her hands, her sharp gaze locked on you. “talk to me!”

you hesitate before sitting down next to her. “i…” you start, your voice faltering. “it’s complicated!”

“uncomplicate it,” she prompts. “just tell me what’s going on!”

the words stick in your throat. you glance at her, then down at your hands, then out at the empty soccer field. “i’m trying,”

nat softens, her posture relaxing as she sits up straighter. “take your time,” she says gently. “i’m not going anywhere!”

her patience only makes it harder to hold everything in. you can feel the walls you’ve built up over the week starting to crack. you swallow hard, your throat dry as you stare out at the empty pitch. still, nat waits, her gaze steady, unrelenting but patient.

“it’s the cheer squad,” you say, finally.

nat frowns, her brows knitting together. “what about them?”

you laugh, but it’s bitter, and doesn’t sound like you at all. “they found out about us. well-” you shake your head and cut yourself off, your cheeks burning hot. “not us. because there isn’t an ‘us’! but they saw me with you. and that was enough,”

nat leans forward, her elbows on her knees as she taps her index against her cheek. the dark nail polish is a stark contrast to her pale skin. “enough for what?”

you bite the inside of your cheek. “enough for them to tell me that i’m…not one of them anymore,”

“what is that supposed to mean?”

you shrug, looking anywhere but at her. “it means i’m out. subtly, of course. they didn’t kick me out outright or anything. just made it clear that if i stayed, it’d be hell. so i left!”

you hate how small your voice sounds, how defeated you feel just admitting it.

“because they think you’re gay?”

“because they know i’m gay,” you correct sharply. “because they saw you with me and that’s enough, apparently!”

nat’s frown deepens, her eyes narrowing. “that’s bullshit. they don’t get to treat you like that. they don’t get to make you feel like this!”

“yeah, well, they’ve got a point”

“what the hell are you talking about?”

you gesture to the field, the bleachers, the school behind you. “this is wiskayok. people like me don’t get to have normal lives here. we don’t get to fit in. what happens when they start looking at you, too?”

nat stares at you, her jaw set. “what are you saying?”

“i’m saying i don’t want to drag you down with me!” the words burst out of you. you’re standing now, pacing a few steps before spinning back around to face her. “you have things going for you, nat! you’re part of the yellowjackets, you-“

“and you think i care about any of that?” nat cuts in.

“well, you should,” you shoot back. “because if they start whispering about you, you might lose it too!”

“you think i’m scared of a bunch of idiots who can’t mind their own business? you think i’m going to let them decide who i spend my time with?”

the conviction in her voice makes your heart stutter. you open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out and nat is quick to speak again:

“they don’t matter,” she says firmly. “not the cheerleaders, not the assholes who whisper behind your back. and they sure as hell don’t get to decide who i want to be around!”

“it’s not that simple, nat. you don’t get it,”

“then explain it to me,” she urges. “because all i see is you trying to carry this shit on your own when you don’t have to!”

her words hit something raw inside you, a soft spot you’ve been trying to ignore for the past weeks. you clutch the strap of your bag like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. “i just…” your voice falters, and you look away, unable to meet her eyes. “i don’t want to ruin your life, too.”

nat scoffs. when you glance up at her, she’s smirking at you like you just said the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard. “you think you’re that powerful?” she teases, one brow quirking up. “like you could ruin me even if you tried?”

her expression softens, and she steps closer, placing a hand on your arm. “listen,” she says seriously. “people are already talking about me. they’ve been for years.” she lets out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “do you think i care what they say?”

you look at her, something inside you flickering with relief.

“besides,” nat adds, her grin returning, “you’re free now. no more cheerleading drama. i’d say you should join us at yellowjackets practice. we could always use another player. i’m sure you’d be great!”

the suggestion is so absurd that you actually laugh, the sound surprising both of you. “yeah, right. i suck at soccer!”

“exactly,” she says. “that’s why it’d be fun!” her smile softens as she looks at you. “you don’t have to carry this on your own,” nat says after a moment.

you’re not sure what’s coming next, but for the first time in days, the weight feels a little bit lighter.

“alright, alright,” you say. “just don’t expect me to score any goals. i’ll be more of a cheerleader than anything else!”

“hey, we could always use a personal backup cheerleader,” she grins, clearly not letting up on the joke.

it starts small.

at first, you linger on the bleachers during practice, trying not to feel so out of place as the team runs drills. nat doesn’t make a big deal out of it, she just shoots you a quick grin every now and then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world for you to be there, studying or getting homework done while the team practices.

the first time you sit through a full practice, you’re mostly ignored. van waves casually in passing, but the others are too focused to pay much attention. you’re fine with that, just being there feels like enough. it’s a welcome distraction from the gnawing ache in your chest every time you think about cheerleading and the fact that you would normally be in the gym with the rest of them at this time.

by the second week, though, things shift. jackie starts teasing you during water breaks, nudging nat with an exaggerated, “so, this is why you’re suddenly on time to practice!”

nat just rolls her eyes, but you catch the faint pink creeping up her neck as she mutters something about jackie minding her own business.

“hey, don’t scare her off,” van chimes in, grinning as she tosses her gloves onto the bench next to you. “we need like…a mascot or something!“

you snort. “pretty sure that’s not how soccer works!“

“we’ll make it work,” van says, plopping down beside you. “cmon, nat’s playing better since you’ve been here!”

nat glares at her. “oh you’re so full of it!”

“am i, though?” she quips, smirking beside you. “i’m just saying, she’s got a stake in this now. right?”

being around them feels easier every day, like you’re part of something even if you’re not on the team.

nat starts walking you home after practice too, her bag slung over one shoulder as you trail down the familiar streets. she doesn’t push you to talk about cheerleading or the girls who used to be your friends. instead, she fills the silence with stories about the team you’re now frequently hanging out with.

“i think i like your team way better than mine,” you admit once.

nat gives you a sidelong glance, her grin softening. “you could’ve joined us from the start, you know?”

as the days pass, you get used to the routines of yellowjackets practice. you start to learn some of their names and habits too: lottie, who always has a kind word when you catch her eye; misty, who’s not a player but still always tries her very hardest to be a part somehow, tai, whose competitive streak rivals nat’s and who’s always lingering near van, especially when they think no one’s watching.

by the third week, you’re no longer just a quiet presence on the sidelines. you cheer them on during scrimmages, laugh at their jokes, and trade sarcastic remarks with some of them in passing.

it’s not the same as cheerleading, not even close, but it feels like a new kind of belonging, one that doesn’t come with hushed judgment or conditional friendships.

one afternoon, as you’re sitting on the bleachers with nat’s jacket draped over your shoulders, she jogs over.

“hey,” she says, her voice casual but her eyes bright. “wanna come kick the ball around? you’ve been sitting there long enough. might as well see if you’re any good!”

you hesitate, glancing at the rest of the team. they must’ve planned this, judging by the way they’re all watching expectantly. “i don’t know…i’d probably suck!”

“probably,” she says, smirking. “but it’d be funny to watch!”

van, overhearing, calls out, “do it! we’ll let you take a shot at shauna!”

“i’m not even a goalie!” shauna yells back, laughing.

“well somebody has to go easy on her!”

before you can protest, nat grabs your hand and pulls you onto the field. it is warm against yours and your pulse quickens, not from the sudden movement, but from the way her fingers curl around yours like she’s done it a thousand times before. it takes you right back to the arcade, where she had shown you how to hold the plastic gun. this time, you don’t mind any of the eyes on you.

she guides you further onto the field, her fingers never leaving yours.

“don’t you dare let me miss,” you warn nat under your breath.

she grins, squeezing your hand lightly. “just don’t kick the ball into the stands!” her teasing tone softens the jab, but you can still feel your cheeks heat up.

“that’s a low blow!”

“you’re the one who’s scared to take a shot!”

van’s voice cuts through the moment, louder and playful from the sidelines. “you heard the girl! don’t let her chicken out, scatorccio!”

“shut up!” you and nat yell in unison as you turn to glare at her. it makes all three of you laugh.

the rest of the team, now standing around you to watch, joins in with their own shouts of encouragement.

“you’ve got this!” jackie says confidently, leaning against the goalpost. “show us that cheerleader skill!”

“do it like you’re trying to get a perfect high kick,” tai adds, her words more helpful in spirit than in practicality. you’re not even sure what that’s supposed to mean, and you give her an exasperated look. “oh, great, now you’re all expecting me to do some dramatic stunt!”

nat, still beside you, rests a hand on your shoulder, grounding you. her touch is steady, the faint pressure comforting. her breath is warm against your skin as she leans closer, her voice low and steady. “don’t overthink it. just…kick the damn ball!”

you take a deep breath, the cool air filling your lungs as you step toward the soccer ball. all eyes on the pitch are on you, watching expectantly. oddly enough, there’s something almost reassuring about it, too, like they’re are rooting for you no matter what.

at cheer practice, whenever you would be learning a new formation, it always seemed like everyone was just waiting for someone to slip, to mess up, to make a fool of themselves. it was as if the entire point of the drill was to expose the weaknesses, to create a moment where one mistake could make the rest of the team look even better. the pressure felt like a weight, and it was easy to feel like you were always on the verge of falling short. the yellowjackets are nothing like that.

there’s no sense of waiting for failure, no quiet anticipation for someone to trip or falter. instead, there’s a quiet kind of confidence in the air, an understanding that everyone will pick each other up.

so, you swing your leg, the kick sending the ball spinning wildly to the left, nowhere near the goal. it lands with an unceremonious thud far off target, and you can already hear the snickers.

“smooth,” shauna deadpans from the goal, but there’s no judgment in her voice, just the faintest hint of amusement.

the team bursts into playful applause. “nice try!” van shouts, cupping her hands around her mouth for extra volume. “better luck next time!”

nat shakes her head, though her smile hasn’t wavered and you laugh, along with her. “i think for now i’ll just cheer from the sidelines.”

as you make your way back to the bleachers, laughing with the team, you can’t help but think that maybe this is what belonging feels like. even if you still don’t quite know where you fit, here, on the edge of the field with nat and the yellowjackets, it’s starting to feel like home in a way the cheer squad never did.

the roar of the crowd echoes in your ears as you settle into your seat on the bleachers, a strange mix of excitement and nerves fluttering through your body.

it’s your first time watching the yellowjackets play without standing among the cheerleaders. instead of a uniform and pom-poms, you’re just you, blending into the sea of spectators, some from wiskayok, some from the school of the opponents -a senior varsity from new york.

still, you spot the cheerleaders easily, their bright uniforms as eye-catching as ever while they chant and pump up the crowd. your ex is there too, of course, amongst the many familiar faces in the lineup.

for the first time, you don’t feel the same sting that usually comes from watching them, from watching her. your focus is elsewhere.

you don’t even have force your eyes away from the cheer squad; they search the field naturally until they land on nat. she’s already in motion, sprinting across the grass, her movements so fluid, so effortless it’s impossible not to be mesmerized and you barely notice the people around you shouting and clapping as the game begins.

nat hasn’t noticed you yet, and you let yourself enjoy being invisible in the crowd for a while, relishing the rare feeling of blending in, of not being the center of attention for once. watching her play is exhilarating. it’s a side of her you’ve only ever seen in glimpses before: when she’s caught up in something that matters to her, when nothing else exists but the game.

the game passes in a blur of goals and tackles, with the yellowjackets easily dominating their opponents. you don’t even realize how invested you are until the final whistle blows and the crowd erupts in cheers. they won.

they all rush toward each other on the pitch, jumping and shouting in celebration, but nat turns. her head swivels, scanning the stands as if she’s searching for something. someone. and then, her eyes land on yours. you freeze in surprise as a grin spreads across her face, like she’s found exactly what she was looking for. nat doesn’t hesitate. while the rest of the yellowjackets are still celebrating, she sprints toward you, weaving through the crowd until she’s standing at the edge of the bleachers, looking up at you from below.

“you made it!” she says, her voice carrying easily over the noise of the crowd, still breathless from the match.

“of course,” you reply, your heart racing for reasons beyond the final score. the world seems to narrow, the cheering fading into the background as you meet nat’s eyes.

her smile widens, and without another word, she reaches out a hand. “come on,” nat prompts, grinning.

she steps closer and extends her hand. your eyes dart around the chaos on the field: the yellowjackets are still caught up celebrating their win, their shouts and laughter echoing across the grass. meanwhile, the cheerleaders are packing up, your ex among them, her back turned to you. if she’s noticed you at all, she’s too stubborn to let it show.

you look back at nat, her hand still outstretched. the look with which she’s looking up at you -hopeful, expectant, like she’s daring you- is impossible to resist and so you reach out, your fingers brushing hers. she closes them around your wrist immediately.

nat doesn’t hesitate, her hand firm as she pulls you down onto the field with her.

the yellowjackets notice almost immediately. van is the first to turn, grinning as she nudges tai. the two of them share a knowing look as van calls out; “look who’s crashing the victory party,”

nat rolls her eyes but, still, she doesn’t let go of your hand. “she’s with me,”

the words send a jolt through you, as simple as they are. it is not the first time you realize the effect nat has on you, but it is the first time you don’t feel the usual sense of shame that had come with any romantic feelings for your ex.

van smirks, throwing an arm around tai’s shoulders. “we figured. took you long enough, scatorccio!”

nat ignores her, turning her attention back to you. “lottie is hosting a post-game hangout,” she says, her thumb brushing lightly against your hand before she realizes and loosens her grip, quickly pulling her hand away. “you’re coming, right?”

“what, now you’re inviting me to hang out?” you can’t help but tease, thinking back to the efforts it took to get nat to warm up. the way she’s smiling at you now makes them all worth the wait.

“you’re not so bad for a cheerleader,” nat teases, nudging your shoulder. “come on!”

there’s something welcoming in the way the yellowjackets make room for you on your way to the locker rooms.

as nat laughs at something shauna says, the sound low and warm, it hits you with a clarity that nearly takes your breath away: you’re falling for her. you have been, all along, in ways you didn’t fully understand until now.

maybe, just maybe, there’s a part of her that feels the same. a part she’s not ready to say out loud yet but shows in the way she holds your hand when she lets her guard down, her grip steady and sure, as if grounding herself in you. it’s in the way her eyes linger, just a little too long, as though she’s memorizing every detail of you. and it’s in the way she said, “she’s with me,” like it wasn’t even a question, like it was the most obvious truth in the world.

[adoringdanvers]

— BUT I’M A CHEERLEADER (part 2)

— summary: your first date with nat takes an unexpected turn.

— warnings: fluff. lots of period typical & internalized homophobia. angst. hurt/no comfort (yet). fem!reader. also i don’t know shit about bowling or soccer.

the next evening, you show up at the bowling alley ten minutes early, too giddy to keep pacing back and forth in your room.

the place is exactly what you expected: slightly dim, neon lights flickering over rows of well-worn lanes, the faint smell of fried food hanging in the air. it’s loud and feels worlds away from your usual hangouts, not at all what you thought nat would suggest and busier than you expected for a weeknight.

nat arrives right on time, striding in with her hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket. she scans the room for a second before her gaze lands on you. immediately, her lips twitch into a smirk, and she saunters over to where you’re standing.

“didn’t think you’d actually show,” she says by way of greeting and stops in front of you.

you roll your eyes, trying not to let her see just how much you’ve been looking forward to this. “i’m not the flaky one, remember?”

nat huffs a laugh, the corners of her mouth lifting ever so slightly. “fair point. ready to get your ass kicked?”

“oh, please,” you scoff. “you already admitted you’re terrible at this!”

“yeah, but so are you. let’s go!” she says, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the counter to rent shoes.

as it turns out, nat wasn’t lying: she is terrible at bowling. her first two frames are instant gutter balls, and her third also veers off almost immediately, careening into the gutter with a dramatic thunk. she straightens up, staring after it for a moment, then turns to you with a deadpan expression.

“your turn!”

you burst out laughing from where you’d been watching her. “that’s it?“

“what?” nat shrugs. “think you’re gonna be any better?”

“wow,” you tease as you walk past her and grab your ball. “so much hope in me!”

she leans against the scorer’s table, crossing her arms as she watches you line up your shot. “show me how it’s done, hotshot!”

you’re determined not to make too much of a fool of yourself, though the bar is already ridiculously low after nat’s poor attempts. you square your shoulders, take a deep breath, and let the ball roll. for a brief, shining moment, you think you’ve nailed it. until it teeters off course and tumbles into the gutter about halfway down the lane.

behind you, nat laughs so hard you’re worried she might actually fall over. “nice job,” she says. “real pro move there!”

“oh, shut up,” you mutter, but you’re grinning too, the sting of failure softened by how ridiculous the whole scene feels.

you take another ball from the rack, determined to redeem yourself. this time, you actually take your time lining up the shot, glancing back at nat, who’s lounging against the table with an amused grin.

“focus, champ,” she teases. “no pressure!”

“uh huh,” you shoot back, shaking your head. you roll the ball, watching it glide smoothly down the lane. for a moment, it looks like it’s going to hit dead center before it veers to the side, taking out an astounding amount of three pins.

nat bursts into laughter, and you groan dramatically. “are you serious?”

“hey, three’s better than none,” she says, clapping slowly. “progress!”

“wow, thanks for the support,” you say, returning to the table and plopping into the chair beside her.

“anytime,” nat replies, still chuckling. she’s next to grab a ball and saunters up to the lane. her casual confidence is almost convincing…until she bowls another gutter ball.

by the fifth frame, you’ve given up on trying to win and are instead competing to see who can make the worst shot. nat perfects a move where she lazily tosses the ball underhand, watching it crawl its way to the pins at an impressively slow pace. it knocks over exactly one pin, and she doubles over laughing.

you’re holding up a hand as tears of laughter blur your vision. “they’re going to kick us out for disrespecting the sport or something!”

halfway through the game, you’re sitting side by side at the table, splitting a basket of fries nat insisted on getting. even with the chaos around you, the occasional strike followed by whoops of celebration, your attention keeps drifting back to her.

nat catches your not so subtle staring and raises an eyebrow. she dips a fry into the remains of ketchup and asks: “what?”

you quickly shake your head, feeling your cheeks heat. “nothing. just…you’re really bad at this,”

she smirks, popping a fry into her mouth. “yeah, well, you’re not much better!”

you laugh, nudging her with your shoulder. “fair enough!”

there’s a pause, comfortable and easy, before she speaks again. “you know, i kind of like this.”

you glance at nat sideways, surprised. “bowling?”

“no,” she says, rolling her eyes. “this. you. not being so…cheerleader-y!”

you stomach flips again, but you keep your voice light. “and here i thought you loved my pom-poms!”

nat grins, shaking her head as she hops up to her feet. “come on! i still have to finish this!”

“oh, please,” you say, leaning forward to steal a fry of your own. “we’re both disasters. let’s just call it a tie and save ourselves the embarrassment!”

nat’s grin widens as she shakes her head. “no way! i’m committed now. this game isn’t over until one of us manages a strike!”

“a strike?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “we’ll be here all night!”

“good,” nat says. “i’ve got nowhere else to be!”

unsurprisingly, neither of you manages a strike. by the time you finally give up, the scoreboard is a tragic display of gutter balls and spare attempts. still, your sides ache from laughing too hard at nat’s increasingly dramatic reactions to her missed shots.

“well,” you say, slipping your bowling shoes off at the rental counter, “i think it’s safe to say we’re not getting scouted for the pro leagues anytime soon!”

nat tosses her own shoes onto the counter with a loud thud, shrugging. “hey, speak for yourself! i’ve got potential!”

you shake your head, grinning. “maybe next time we stick to something less physical?”

the words are out before you have time to consider their implications. judging by nat’s attitude before, you wonder if she’s even up for something like a ‘next time’ or if she’s counting down the seconds until she can get out of here.

the way she’s smiling -unlike anything you’ve ever seen in school- does seem like she’s having at least as much fun as you though. and instead of turning you down, she’s nudging you with her elbow. “what about the arcade? i think i’ve got enough energy left to kick your ass at air hockey too!”

“you’re awfully confident for someone who couldn’t break 60 in bowling,” you tease, following her toward the neon glow of the arcade that’s tucked into a different part of the building.

nat just glances back over her shoulder, grinning. “you’ll see!”

the arcade is alive with sound and light and you wander through the rows of machines shoulder to shoulder, eventually stopping at a basketball free-throw game.

“alright,” nat says, cracking her knuckles. “let’s see what you’ve got, cheerleader!”

“oh, please. you’re the one on a soccer team,” you reply, gesturing at the hoop. “shouldn’t hand-eye coordination also be your kind of thing?”

“soccer,” she deadpans. “not basketball. but i guess we’ll find out!”

nat does manage a solid lead at first, sinking several shots in a row while you struggle to keep up. when her aim falters, and you take your chance to catch up, scoring three baskets back-to-back just before the timer runs out.

“okay, okay,” she says, raising her hands in surrender as the scoreboard flashes your victory. “maybe i’ll stick to soccer!”

“what was that about destroying me?”

nat rolls her eyes, grabbing the tickets that spit out from the machine. “beginner’s luck. don’t get used to it!”

you’re still laughing when you pass a pair of shooting games tucked into the corner of the room next. she instantly slows, her attention caught by the pixelated zombies on the screen.

“oh, we have to play this,” nat declares, stepping toward it. “let’s see who’s got better shooting aim!”

she’s already grabbing one of the plastic guns and hands the other to you. “come on! i’ll even give you a head start!”

you hesitantly take it from her, your fingers fumbling to hold it correctly. the machine comes to life as nat inserts a few quarters. the game starts with an obnoxiously loud intro and an animated announcer yelling about a zombie apocalypse while dramatic music plays in the background.

“okay, ready?” nat asks, aiming her gun.

“i think so,” you say, mimicking her stance.

she takes the first few shots like a pro, hitting targets with surprising accuracy. the same can’t be said for you: your first shot misses so badly that she actually pauses to laugh, nearly getting hit herself in the process.

“you’re supposed to aim at the zombies, you know?”she teases.

“i am aiming at the zombies!” you reply, adjusting your grip on the gun.

nat glances at you, then laughs. “what are you doing? you’re holding it like it’s a water pistol!”

you huff. “well, excuse me for not being an expert at fake guns!”

nat shakes her head, grinning. “here, let me show you!”

before you can argue, she steps behind you, her arms brushing yours as she adjusts your grip. nat’s hands settle over yours, guiding you to hold the gun steady. “like this,” she says softly, her voice so close to your ear that it sends a shiver down your spine.

you nod, thought your brain feels absolutely scrambled. you’re hyperaware of just how close she is, the warmth of her hands over yours, the faint smell of her cologne.

“see?” she continues, her voice low and her breath warm against the back of your neck. if nat is aware of the affect that she has on you, she won’t let it show. “now you can actually aim!”

“yeah,” you manage. you’re not sure you’re even looking at the screen anymore.

her fingers linger for a second too long before she steps back. you exhale, trying to shake off the heat rising to your face, and focus on the game instead.

it continues, and though you start hitting a few more targets, nat still dominates the scoreboard all throughout the game. by the final round, both of you are frantically firing at the screen, shouting instructions at each other and laughing whenever one of you misses.

the neon lights of the arcade reflect off nat’s face as she occasionally grins at you between firing shots. for this moment, it feels like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you. it feels like the kind of moment you’d envisioned yourself having time and time again, not once thinking somebody like you would ever live this kind of reality. now here you are, with nat scatorccio out of all people.

then, just as the next wave of pixelated zombies is about to appear on screen, you catch sight of someone out of the corner of your eye: a figure standing near the claw machine. familiar. too familiar.

your stomach instantly twists at the sight. it’s her. she’s leaning casually against the side of the machine, her arms crossed as she watches you. even surrounded by a group of friends, some of which you recognize from cheer practice, her eyes are on you and nat.

panic rushes through you suddenly, and you feel the familiar urge to get out of her eyesight as fast as possible.

“hey, uhm, give me a second,” you mumble, setting the plastic gun down.

nat straightens, her smile fading into concern. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you say quickly, forcing a smile and an unconvincing thumbs up. “just…bathroom. be right back!”

you weave through the crowd, your heartbeat thundering in your ears and drowning out the noise of the arcade around you. the bathroom door swings open with a soft creak, and you step inside, bracing your hands against the sink.

the harsh fluorescent lights make everything feel too bright, too sharp. you grip the edge, your knuckles turning white.

she saw you. she saw you laughing with nat, leaning close, acting like you didn’t care about the looks, the whispers she used to care about back when you were sneaking around. she won’t just let that slide.

when the door swings open behind you, you don’t need to turn around to know it’s her who steps inside.

“didn’t think i’d see you here,”

your meet her eyes in the mirror, your reflection pale and tense. “what do you want?”

she steps inside, letting the door shut behind her. “relax. i’m just saying hi!”

you turn to face her fully, crossing your arms in front of you like a shield. “hi. now leave.”

she ignores the demand, only steps closer instead. “i didn’t know you were into arcade games,” she says, raising a brow. “or that you were hanging out with yellowjackets…?”

your nails press crescent moon shapes into the palm of your hand as you attempt to stand your ground. it’s always been hard with her, when she’s so used to getting whatever she pleases.

“it’s just funny. i thought you didn’t even like soccer?” she tilts her head. “so what’s this then? some new hobby?”

your throat feels dry as you try and find your voice. “it’s not- nat and i are just hanging out!”

“right” she says, dragging the word out.

“what do you want?”

she shrugs, stepping further into the bathroom. “just curious. you’ve been avoiding me, and now here you are, cozying up to scatorccio of all people!”

you flinch at her tone, the condescension in the way she says nat’s name. “it’s none of your business!”

“oh, but it is,” she says, her voice sharpening as she hisses: “do you have any idea how that looks? you’re not exactly subtle, you know? half the arcade probably thinks you two are…” she trails off.

you stomach churns. you doubt she’ll ever change: apparently, even being associated with somebody who might be queer is too much for her to handle. “so what if they do?”

her eyes narrow. “so what? are you serious right now?”

you feel your hands curl into fists at your sides. “what are you trying to say?”

“all i’m saying is that you’re playing with fire,” she snaps, her voice rising. “people talk. and if you’re not careful, you’re going to ruin everything for yourself!”

your breath catches. “ruin what? there’s nothing to ruin!”

“oh please!” she takes another step closer. “you think people are just going to be okay with it? you think you’re going to waltz around with your little soccer girlfriend and not have it blow up in your face?”

you swallow hard. “nat’s not my girlfriend!”

“that’s not the point,” she says, her tone growing harsher. “the point is you’re going to make things harder for yourself! and for what? for her?”

you feel your eyes sting. you hate that she can still get to you like this. “why do you even care? you made it clear you didn’t want this!”

“because i didn’t want to ruin my life,” she says, her voice rising. “do you know what people would say if they knew? if they knew about us? about you?”

“you act like i’m the problem,” you manage to scoff. “like i’m ruining everything. you’re the one who’s scared. you’re the one who can’t deal with who you are!”

“i know things about you!” she snaps then. “things i could say. people i could tell!”

your breath hitches all over again, the weight of her words -of the threat- pressing down on you like a physical force.

before you can respond, the door swings open again, and nat steps inside. her eyes immediately lock onto yours, and then dart to your ex, her jaw tightening. she might not know who she is yet, but you’re sure nat can put two and two together.

“what’s going on here?”

“nothing,” your ex says quickly, straightening up. “we were just…talking!”

nat doesn’t look convinced. she steps closer, positioning herself between you and her. “didn’t sound like just talking!”

“jesus, relax natalie,” she rolls her eyes. “this has nothing to do with you!”

“it has if you’re upsetting her,” nat says.

your ex falters, her confidence wavering under nat’s steady gaze. she looks at you one last time, scoffing, her expression a mix of anger and something almost like regret. but then she turns on her heel, brushing past nat as she storms out of the bathroom.

“hey,” nat immediately says. “are you okay?”

you nod, but the tears spill over anyway. “i’m fine,” you mumble, quickly wiping at your face.

nat steps closer, her presence steadying in a way you never knew before. “you don’t have to be,” she assures.

“she’s just…” you trail off, struggling to find the words. “she’s like that because of her own stuff. it’s not about me. not really”

nat nods, “i get it, but it still sucks!”

you let out a weak laugh, the tension in your chest loosening just a little. “yeah. it does,”

she hesitates, then reaches out, her hand brushing your shoulder. the touch is brief at first but grounding, and when you don’t turn away, nat dares to pull you into somewhat of a half embrace, unsure but no less comforting.

“come on,” nat mumbles after a moment. “let’s get you out of here, yeah? i’m not letting you have another breakdown in a bathroom over her on my watch, cheerleader!”

the next morning feels like stepping into an entirely different world altogether: the fight in the bathroom with your ex is a long forgotten, thanks to nat’s attempt to cheer you up, and your heart is still buzzing from your time with her.

she’d driven you home after the arcade, and though nothing happened, not a kiss, not even holding hands, you’d caught yourself smiling like an absolute idiot in the passenger seat, replaying the way she’d looked at you all night.

now, even the seemingly endless monotony of class seems oddly tolerable: you actually find yourself sitting through lectures without doodling in your notebook or counting the minutes until lunch. when you spot nat across the hallway between classes or across the room in your one shared history lesson, the sight of her messy hair or a flash of her smile is enough to send a flutter through your chest.

the good mood follows you right up until you step into the gym for cheer practice after school.

something feels off the second you walk in. the usual buzz of chatter and laughter feels stilted, replaced with something tense. any talk is cut off as soon as your sneakers squeak against the polished floor. a quick glance around confirms a suspicion that’s already creeping up on you: people are watching.

and not just glancing, staring.

your tighten your grip on your gym bag, a knot forming in your stomach. your steps falter as you approach the lockers and the murmur of voices picks up again behind you.

“…makes sense, though, doesn’t it?”

“i mean, it’s gross, right?”

“does coach even know?”

you drop your bag by the lockers and start stretching near the mats. the whispers don’t stop. if anything, they grow louder, their words becoming clearer until there’s no pretending you don’t hear them anymore. when you glance toward the group huddled near the bleachers, you see the pointed looks, the smirks, and the unmistakable glare from your ex:

she’s standing at the center of the group, arms crossed, a clearly self-satisfied smirk plastered across her face.

finally, you stand, brushing off your hands, and take a step toward them. “what’s going on?”

the chatter stops abruptly, as if none of them were expecting you to call it out. for a moment, nobody answers, but then she steps forward.

“oh, nothing,” she says, looking around. “we were just talking about how interesting it must’ve been for you, being on a team full of girls. you know…since you’re into that sort of thing?”

it feels like the floor drops out from underneath your feet.

it’s a low blow, even for her, but that doesn’t stop the group of girls that surround you from giggling quietly.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say quickly, but your voice wavers, betraying you. “what’s your problem?”

“no problem here. just thought it was interesting, you know? seeing you out last night. you and natalie scatorccio?”

the gym falls silent. you feel every pair of eyes in the room turns to you.

“we weren’t doing anything,” you manage despite their stares. “we were just hanging out!”

“hanging out?” your ex repeats, feigning surprise. “that’s what you call it? looked a lot more…cozy than that to me!”

laughter ripples through the group, and heat floods your face.

“oh my god,” one of the other girls chimes in, her voice filled with poorly concealed disgust. “are you actually serious? you were on a date with her?”

“it wasn’t a date!” you protest, your voice rising in panic. as much as you would’ve liked for it to be, neither of you labeled it that.

another girl snorts. “right, because scatorccio is totally the type to hang out with a cheerleader just for fun! come on, we’ve all seen her. she’s like…you know?” she makes a vague gesture. there’s no need for her to elaborate for the whole room to understand what she saying.

“like what?” you snap.

“like you,” your ex cuts in smoothly. “two of a kind, right? birds of a feather! must be nice, not having to hide anymore!”

someone snickers behind her. “we’re just friends,” you say, sharper now.

“sure you are, that’s why you were basically all over each other!”

the group bursts into more laughter around you.

“would you just shut up?” you snap at last.

“oh, she’s mad now,” one of the other girls says, her voice a mock sing-song.

your ex steps closer, dropping the act entirely now that you’re chest to chest. “what’s the matter? afraid people might find out who you really are?” she glances around at the others, then back at you. “you know, it’s kind of pathetic. sneaking around like that. nobody’s buying it, anyway!”

“don’t-” your voice cracks.

“don’t what?” she says. “don’t call you out? don’t let everyone know they’ve been sharing a locker room with a lesbian?”

the words hang in the air, sharp and cruel, and hit you like a slap. for a moment, all you can do is stand there, frozen, as the group watches you, some wide-eyed, others smirking.

it’s not just about nat, or you. it’s about your place in their world: your status as part of the team, part of the cheer squad. the one thing you’ve always tried to fit into, always tried to be, no matter how uncomfortable it made you. it is now that you’re realizing that maybe you don’t belong in their world. that maybe you never did.

grabbing your bag, you shove past her and storm toward the door, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst. the door slams shut behind you, muffling the sound of their laughter.

you won’t go back to the gym and give them that satisfaction.

instead, you walk down the halls, past the locker rooms, and head out the back doors. the air outside is cold, but does nothing to numb the ache in your chest. it’s the kind that suddenly feels like it’s been there all along, maybe longer than you realized, even. a crack forming. one piece of your life falling away at a time: cheerleading had always been your thing. your family’s thing, your friends’ thing. you’d been in it so long, it is hard to imagine life without it.

but then there’s still nat.

you’re not sure why your thoughts drift to her now, but you do know one thing for sure: with nat, over these past weeks, you could breathe. the world didn’t feel so small. she made you feel like you again, like someone who could be something other than just a cheerleader, just a girl pretending.

it isn’t until you’ve wandered to the edge of campus that you realize where your feet have taken you: the soccer field stretches out ahead, bright under the last bits of aternoon sun. from where you’re standing, you can see the yellowjackets mid-practice. you hesitate at the edge of the field, heart pounding as your eyes scan the group for her.

they’ve always been a tight group and there’s always been something about them that you’ve admired: the way they’ve got each other’s backs, no questions asked. you can’t help but feel like maybe that’s the one thing you’ve never been able to do for yourself.

nat is easy to spot, even from a distance. she’s wearing shorts and a faded soccer jersey, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail. you freeze, watching as she jogs across the field with an effortless ease before passing the ball to taissa, who maneuvers it past a defender before sending it toward van. van, who catches it, calls out something teasing in return, her voice carrying across the field, and the whole team bursts into laughter.

even from a distance, they’re so at ease with one another.

and then there’s you.

the girl who just got shut out by her own teammates. you stand there, rooted to the spot, watching nat and the others as a painful realization starts to settle in your chest.

clearly, she belongs here.

you don’t.

you think back to the way the yellowjackets rallied around each other at that party, how they’d teased nat when they saw you in her jacket the next day, never with an ounce of cruelty. they’d just laughed and called her out, like it was no big deal. no judgment whatsoever.

out there on the pitch, they don’t look at her the way your squad looked at you today. they don’t treat her like she’s a problem that needs to be fixed. who are you to mess with that?

your chest tightens as the thought takes root: you’ve just lost your place on the cheer squad because you couldn’t keep your feelings buried where they belonged. and now, after one night of just hanging out with nat, everything feels even more precarious.

and it’s not only about you anymore, either. if you let yourself get closer to nat, if people start to notice, if they connect the dots, what happens then? does the judgment simply spill over onto her? onto the team she so clearly loves?

you can’t do that to her, not when she’s so happy here. not when she’s already lost so much, like she told you the night of that party. you can’t be the one to take anything else away from her.

nat jogs toward the sidelines now, wiping sweat from her brow as she laughs at something shauna says not far behind. you catch the faint sound of her voice, low and raspy, and it sends an ache through your chest that already feels too big to name.

you think about walking up to her, about calling her name and letting her see the raw hurt on your face. maybe she’d understand. maybe she’d care. but as you watch her sling an arm around lottie from afar, grinning ear to ear, you hesitate.

what if she doesn’t? what if you’re just another burden she doesn’t need? another thing weighing her down?

before you can second-guess yourself, you turn on your heel, your eyes stinging as you walk away from the field, the sound of laughter fading into the distance behind you.

it’s better this way, you tell yourself. ehe’s happy, and she deserves to stay that way. you’ll figure out the rest on your own, even if it means facing it all alone.

— a/n: i know it’s not wednesday yet, but a) i just got the sweetest ask ever, which motivated me to sit my ass down and finish this, and b) i have a rhiannon lewis fic for tomorrow that’s been sitting in my drafts since november! so, instead of posting two in one day, enjoy this one today! 😭😭

[adoringdanvers]

— BUT I’M A CHEERLEADER (part 1)

— summary: you’re still getting over your past situationship when you meet nat scatorccio.

— warnings: drinking/alcohol. implied period typical homophobia. based on this request.

the music pounds through the walls of the house, every beat rattling through your skull and adding to the dizziness you’re already feeling. you’re perched on the edge of the bathtub, clutching a half-empty red cup you’ve forgotten about. the drink has long since lost its taste, and the buzz you’d been riding earlier is wearing off in the worst possible way.

tears fall, slow and relentless, even as you try to force them back. it’s pathetic, you know it is as you look at the mascara smeared face that greets you in the reflection of the mirror ahead.

none of this was supposed to happen. you weren’t supposed to end up here, locked in a bathroom at some stupid party, crying over someone who never cared enough to give you what you wanted. the same old story. you saw it coming, but that doesn’t make it hurt less. it doesn’t make the loneliness any easier to bear.

you run a shaky hand through your hair and wipe at your burning eyes, the red cup slipping slightly as you press it between your palms. it was supposed to be different this time, not feel like the same heartbreak you’ve lived through so many times before. she was different. or at least, you thought she was. that’s what you kept telling yourself while you fell for the girl who promised she was ready to be with you, who made all the right moves, said all the right things.

but when it came down to it, she couldn’t even look you in the eye as you tried to talk about it a couple of weeks ago. all she could do was calling things ‘complicated’ and saying that maybe she wasn’t ready for something real. no apology. no real excuse. and now here she is at the same party, dancing with some guy in a way she never would have with you, leaving you no choice but to watch from across the room.

the bathroom door creaks open suddenly, and you quickly wipe at your face, trying to compose yourself. the last thing you need is for somebody to walk in on one of the cheerleaders looking like this. but it’s too late.

“occupied,” you mumble.

“yeah, no shit,” a dry voice responds

you look up, surprised to see one of the yellowjackets standing against the doorframe. you know her, obviously, if only from a distance, from watching games from the sidelines after performing: natalie scatorccio. she’s the one with the shaggy, bleach blonde hair and that perpetually bored look in her eyes, the one who always wears vintage band tees and a leather jacket if she’s not in her soccer jersey number 7.

“sorry,” you mumble, trying to sound like you’re not completely falling apart. “i’ll leave,”

natalie doesn’t move. she crosses her arms and leans against the wall, her smirk softening. “relax,” she says. “not like i’m dying to hang out with the drunk assholes out there.”

you blink at her, caught off guard. “then why are you here?”

she shrugs, stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. “needed a break. but you-“ her eyes flick to your tear-streaked cheeks. “-are you okay?”

“do i look okay?” you snap, voice wobbling.

natalie raises her hands in mock surrender. “fair enough. want to talk about it, or should i leave you to…whatever this is?”

you hesitate, staring down at your cup. she’s a stranger, but something about her feels steady, like she’s not here to judge or pry. before you know it, the words are tumbling out.

“i hooked up with someone. someone i really liked. and they…didn’t feel the same way,”

natalie hums, leaning back against the counter. “cheerleader, right?”

“uh, yeah. how’d you know?”

her grin is small, knowing. “lucky guess,” she gestures vaguely toward your perfect ponytail, the neatly pressed outfit you're wearing (or what's left of it after the night's events). "also, your whole squad has that...same vibe, you know?"

“a vibe?” you echo, frowning.

“you know.” she shrugs. “acting like you’ve got it all together, even when you’re crying in a bathroom…”

you bristle slightly. “well, clearly, i don’t,”

“clearly,” she says, with a smirk that’s just shy of teasing. then, more seriously: “so, what happened?”

you hesitate, then sigh. “i thought we had something. but they didn’t see it that way. basically said i was imagining things!”

natalie tilts her head. “cheerleader too?”

her tone is careful, and the question catches you off guard, though you don't bother denying it. with the amount of cheap liquor you've had, there’s no point in trying to lie. besides, she doesn't strike you as the type to judge, considering the fact that she was the one to bring it up.

“yeah,”

she lets out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “figures. you guys are always so tangled up together,”

you glance up at her, defensive. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it’s just…” she shrugs. “predictable. all sunshine and pom-poms until someone gets stabbed in the back!”

“not all of us are like that,” you mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“oh, yeah?” she quirks an eyebrow. “then why are you in here crying?”

her bluntness stings, but it cuts through the fog in your head. at least she's not sugarcoating things just to make you feel better. you exhale sharply, and before you can stop yourself, you’re speaking again. “because i thought she actually cared. i thought…” you trail off, shaking your head.

natalie’s expression shifts slightly, something softer slipping through as she shoves her hands into her pockets. “people suck,” she says simply.

you laugh weakly, despite yourself. “yeah. they really do!”

the room falls into silence again, but it’s not uncomfortable. you feel lighter, somehow, like just talking to her has already taken some of the weight off your chest. for the first time tonight, you feel like you can breathe again.

natalie shifts, standing upright and jerking her chin toward the door. “c’mon. this party fucking sucks anyway. let’s get out of here!”

you hesitate, glancing toward the door. “what, you’re just gonna leave?”

she shrugs, her hands still tucked in her pockets. “what’s the point of staying? and let me guess: you’re not exactly dying to run into her again tonight either?”

your stomach twists at the thought, and you shake your head. “no. definitely not!”

“exactly,” natalie says, stepping away from the wall. “so let’s bail. the night’s already shitty, might as well make it less shitty!”

“you want me to come with you?”

she smirks faintly. “you want to stay here crying in the bathroom?”

you let out a soft laugh despite yourself. “alright, fair point”

natalie gestures toward the door. “come on. i know a spot. it’s better than this place, anyway,”

‘better than this place’ isn’t exactly a high bar, but something about the way she says it makes you trust her. you nod, leaving your cup on the counter. “alright. lead the way!”

natalie doesn’t say anything else, just pushes open the bathroom door and leads you through the party. the noise and chaos feel even more overwhelming after the relative quiet, but she moves through it carelessly. you follow her out to the driveway, where her beat-up car sits under a flickering streetlight.

“get in” she says, jerking her head towards the passenger side.

you hesitate for a moment before climbing in. the interior is as unpolished as you’d expect, the faint smell of cigarette smoke lingering in the air. natalie slides into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut and cranking the engine to life.

“where are we going?” you ask as she starts driving off.

“somewhere quiet,” she says simply, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

fifteen minutes later, you’re parked at a deserted overlook just outside town. only there, natalie cuts the ignition and leans back, pulling a pack of cigarettes from her jacket.

“want one?” she asks, holding it out to you.

you shake your head. “not my thing”

“suit yourself.” natalie lights one up, the orange glow illuminating her face in the otherwise dark space. for a while, neither of you says anything, the silence surprisingly comfortable.

“so,” natalie starts, breaking the quiet. “you really liked this girl, huh?”

you sigh, leaning your head back against the seat. “yeah. i thought…i don’t know, i thought we had something!”

“maybe she’s just an idiot,” she offers, her voice dry though not unkind. “her loss, right?”

you glance at her, watching the way her face lights up from the faint glow of her cigarette. “what about you, natalie? ever had…dunno, someone break your heart?”

she winces playfully at the name. “natalie? god, no one calls me that. it’s just nat!”

“nat,” you repeat. “alright, nat, what about you then?

she exhales a stream of smoke, her gaze fixed on the horizon through the window shield. “not really,” she says after a pause. “i’ve had my fair share of bullshit. people thinking they can get close, but only on their terms,”

“that sounds…” you trail off, searching for the right word.

“exhausting?” nat supplies, flicking ash out the window. “yeah, it is.”

familiar, is what you were going for, but you suppose ‘exhausting’ will do. you study her for a moment, the sharp angles of her face in the dimly lit space. “you’re not what i expected, you know?”

nat glances sideways at you. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

you shrug, leaning back against the headrest. “i don’t know. i see you at school sometimes…and with the whole soccer thing, i guess i just figured you’d be different,”

“different how?” she presses, curiosity piqued.

“i don’t know,” you hesitate, searching for the right words. “the team’s such a big deal. everyone’s always talking about the yellowjackets since you guys won nationals,”

nat lets out a dry laugh, taking another drag of her cigarette.

“trust me, we’re just a bunch of idiots kicking a ball around. nothing special”

“you’re good, though,” you counter. “regionals last year? that goal you scored? pretty badass!”

“you were there?”

“i’m a cheerleader, remember? i’m at all the games. you don’t really notice us, though, do you?”

“not my thing,” she says with a grimace. “but, uh, thanks. i guess,”

the conversation continues, ebbing and flowing with surprising ease. turns out that nat scatorccio is not at all how you had expected her to be.

eventually, as she runs out of cigarettes to smoke, the cold starts to seep in, and you shiver. nat notices, shrugging off her leather jacket and holding it out to you.

“here,” she says. “you’re gonna freeze to death!”

you blink at her, surprised. a part of you wants to argue, but the goosebumps on your arms speak volumes. “are you sure? won’t you be cold?”

“i’ll survive,” she says, rolling her eyes. “just take it!”

you do, slipping it on quickly. it’s oversized on you, the sleeves hanging past your hands, and smells faintly of smoke. it’s warm, at least, and you murmur “thanks” as your finger clutch at the fabric.

“don’t mention it,” she replies, stubbing out her cigarette. “c’mon, let’s get you home before someone calls the cops on me for kidnapping a cheerleader”

you laugh, the tension easing from your chest as she starts the car and pulls back onto the road, letting you navigate the route to your house.

the drive is quieter this time, the party and all your earlier heartbreak feeling strangely far away. nat drums her fingers on the steering wheel in time with a song playing faintly on the radio.

when she stops in front of your house, you hesitate for a moment before opening the door. “thanks for tonight,” you say, your voice softer than you mean it to be.

she shrugs, her gaze flicking toward you. “don’t overthink it, alright? i just…didn’t want you crying in some gross bathroom all night,”

“well, i appreciate it. see you around?”

“maybe,” she says, a half-smile on her face as you climb out of the car and close the door behind you.

you stand on your front porch for a long moment, watching her tail lights disappear into the night. only then, when theres only the pitch black darkness of the street left ahead of you and nat’s car is long gone, you make your way inside.

it isn’t until you’re curled up in the comfort bed that you notice it: nat’s leather jacket is still wrapped snugly around your shoulders. you hadn’t even thought to take it off, too distracted by the events of the night. now, as you bury your face into the worn leather, you can’t help but smile as you inhale what is a mixture of the scent of her cologne and cigarettes.

the thought makes you grin despite yourself, and you let the warmth of the jacket lull you to sleep, unbothered by the fact that you’re still in a full face of makeup and the clothes you wore to the party.

somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re already thinking about how to return it, though the idea of seeing her again doesn’t feel like a chore at all.

the gym is still buzzing with energy, the echoes of the rally lingering in the air. you're perched on the bleachers, fiddling with the hem of your cheer skirt as the crowd begins to disperse.

the yellowjackets are clustered near the far corner, laughing and shoving at each other while coach martinez barks something about practice tomorrow that you can understand clearly even from a distance and amongst the giggles of the other cheerleaders.

your eyes, however, are locked on one player only.

she's leaning against the wall, arms crossed, her signature smirk firmly in place as she banters with lottie. she doesn't seem to notice you staring. if she does, she doesn't let on. her hair is messy, sweaty strands sticking to her neck, and there's a small smear of dirt on her cheek that she clearly doesn't care enough about to wipe away.

the ache in your chest is as confusing as it is frustrating. you're not supposed to feel this way about her, of all people. not after how your recent situationship ended. you'd made the stubborn promise to yourself hat you would not end up falling for another girl in the foreseeable future. and yet, here you are, watching nat scatorccio from afar.

"hey"

the voice beside you makes you jump, and you whip around to find her -the girl you'd been seeing, or whatever you'd been doing-hovering uncertainly at your side. only yesterday, the sight would've made your heart ache. now, it just annoys you that she's interrupted your people (nat) watching.

"uh, hi," you mumble, glancing back at nat almost instinctively. the girl notices, following your gaze. "since when do you care about soccer?"

"what? i don't, i wasn't-" you cut yourself off, realizing how pointless it is to lie. "i was just…..zoning out,"

"sure," she says, her tone clipped. she shifts awkwardly, crossing her arms. "look, about the other night-"

whatever she's saying is drowned out by your own thoughts: nat's laughing at something van said, her smile wide and unrestrained. it's different from the smirk she usually wears. it's softer, more real somehow, and your heart stumbles stupidly in your chest.

"are you even listening to me?" she suddenly asks sharply, pulling your attention back to your side of the gym.

you blink, caught off guard. "sorry, what?"

she rolls her eyes, clearly exasperated. "forget it. i just thought we should talk about...whatever this is. or was!"

you don't want to talk, especially not to her. she's made her stance clear. still, you offer: "yeah, no, you're right. we should. just... maybe later?"

she scoffs, throwing up her hands. "whatever. good talk!" you don't even have the energy to stop her as she stalks off, the sound of her sneakers echoing sharply in the nearly empty gym. your gaze drifts back to nat, then, and you catch her glancing your way. your breath catches, the conversation instantly forgotten, but she looks away before you can tell whether she actually noticed you, or if it was just wishful thinking.

even the school parking lot is alive with post-rally energy by the time you and the rest of the cheer squad has made it out of the locker rooms and you're no longer in the tight outfit.

the yellowjackets are lounging around their cars, hard to miss when they're still in their jerseys. you spot nat leaning against her car, a bright yellow number 7 on her chest and a cigarette dangling lazily between her fingers. she's clearly disinterested in whatever story misty is animatedly telling beside her.

your heart thuds uncomfortably as you approach, clutching the leather jacket in your hands. the nerves aren't new, you've felt them every time you've seen her since that night, but this time, it's worse: she's with her teammates, and they're all staring at you the moment you come into view.

"hey," you call out, offering a small wave. "i, uh...i have something that's yours?"

nat's eyes narrow slightly before flicking to the jacket in your hands.

“oh my god, nat,” taissa teases, leaning casually against van's shoulder. "didn't know you were in the habit of lending your stuff to cheerleaders!"

she exhales a puff of smoke, side-eyeing tai. “shut up!”

you bite your lip, stepping closer. “here. thanks for letting me borrow it!” you hold out the jacket, trying to keep your voice steady with the whole team watching the exchange.

nat takes another drag from her cigarette, letting the silence hang for just a beat too long, before, finally, taking the jacket from your hands. “no problem,”

van raises an eyebrow, smirking the exact same way taissa is.

“well, this is new. didn't know you two were friends...?”

“we're not,” nat says quickly, her tone defensive. you glance at her, the sting of her words hitting sharper than you expect.

“but she's nice,” misty chimes in, clearly delighted by the interaction. “and really good at flips! i saw you at the rally. you did that back handspring thing-“

“misty, not now,” lottie interrupts, shaking her head.

“anyway,” you say, forcing a smile despite the awkward tension.

“thanks again, nat. and...see you around…?”

nat shrugs on the jacket. “thanks, i guess,” she mutters, not meeting your eyes.

“uh, no,” you say, catching her off guard. “i'm thanking you. for, you know...saving my ass the other night...?”

nat quirks a brow at you, clearly unimpressed. “right. well, you already said that. so, we're good!” she shifts on her feet, clearly itching to leave. “see you around, cheerleader!”

and with that, she's gone, her boots scuffing against the asphalt as she falls into step with taissa and van.

turns out you do see nat around, more often than she seems to like.

the first time you spot her in the halls, it's almost comical how badly you fail at playing it cool. nat's leaning against a locker, her bag slung carelessly over one shoulder, chatting with somebody you don't recognize. you walk past and try to keep your head down, but you can't resist glancing over at the last second.

unfortunately, nat very much notices: she smirks, raising an eyebrow in what you can only assume is amusement at your awkwardness. “hey, cheerleader,” she calls, her voice echoing in the hall.

“uh, hi!” you manage, voice coming out brighter than intended. the person by her side snickers, but nat doesn't say anything else, and you slink away, your face burning.

the second time, you're determined to do better.

you catch her near the parking lot, hanging around with a group of guys you've never seen around before. she's got a bottle in a paper bag, her posture lazy and self-assured, and for a moment, you stop in your tracks, hesitant. but then you remember her kindness at the party, and you square your shoulders. the least you can do is thank her properly.

“hey, natalie,” you call as you approach, and she glances over, her expression one of confusion before recognition flashes over her features.

“it's nat,” she corrects automatically, taking a swig from the bottle.

“what do you want?”

you dig into your pocket and pull out the scrap of paper, you'd prepared in class, holding it out to her. “here!”

she takes it, frowning. “what's this?”

“my number,” you say, surprising even yourself with how steady your voice is.

nat snorts. “yeah, no thanks. not really my thing.”

“no, not like that!” you insist quickly, though your face warms. “it's just...if you ever want to talk, or hang out, or whatever. i still owe you for that night, remember?”

her eyes narrow as she studies you, and for a moment, you're sure she's going to crumple the paper and toss it. but instead, she tucks it into her jacket pocket with a shrug. you consider it a small win when you leave her to it.

the third time you try your luck with nat, it's after school. nat's sitting on the steps outside, looking a little less put-together than usual: her hair's messier, her leather jacket slightly crinkled, and she's perched on the edge of a concrete step, surrounded by a few other yellowjackets.

you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot, wondering if you should just let it go for today. but then you remember the way she looked at you the first time you crossed paths after the party, how her gaze softened just a little and how willing to hold nat had been, and it pushes you forward.

you walk up to her, purposefully ignoring the eyes of the other yellowjackets, but determined to try anyway.

“hey,” you say, a little unsure.

nat looks up at you then, her eyes calculating as she takes in your approach. for a moment, she doesn't say anything, just watching you with a furrowed brow. you can feel the familiar rush of nerves, but you push through it anyway.

“do you have a minute?” you ask, trying to sound casual. her lips twitch in what might be the beginning of a smirk, but she doesn't move. “no cheerleading practice today?”

you blink in surprise until you remember: she knows. of course she knows. everyone knows. it's hard to miss you bouncing around in that uniform, especially when you're standing next to your teammates, who always make a point of making everything so damn loud.

“no, not today,” you reply, glancing down at your shoes. “i...thought i'd take a break. come see what you're up to...?”

she doesn't immediately respond, but her eyes flick to the group of yellowjackets gathered around her, clearly sensing that they're all watching in anticipation. nat takes a long drag from her cigarette before replying in her usual dry tone. “why are you here, cheerleader? got another number for me to ignore?”

you almost laugh: the way she says it isn't cruel or mean, but teasing instead.

“no,” you say, shaking your head. “just wanted to check in. i haven't really heard from you since that night. thought i’d see if you were still alive!” nat doesn't seem fazed by the comment. she just exhales a puff of smoke before she replies: “i'm fine,”

you bite your lip but continue, “so you're not mad at me for, you know, giving you my number? for-“

“i'm not mad,” nat interjects. “just don't expect me to be...all friendly, alright?”

you feel a flash of disappointment, but try not to show it. instead, you nod, aiming for a smile but landing more on an awkward grimace. “fair enough. just thought i'd try, you know?”

for a moment, nat just looks at you, her expression unreadable. you're about to turn away, thinking you've pushed too much, when she suddenly speaks again. “you're persistent, i'll give you that,”

you turn back, blinking in surprise.

“maybe it's because i don't like giving up," you reply, your heart skipping a beat. "i really do owe you for what happened that night.”

she shrugs, the motion almost lazy. “you don't have to keep thanking me,”

“i know” you tell her. “but if you ever want to grab a coffee or something, i mean..i'll be around”

just when you think she's going to dismiss you again, she looks over at the group, making sure they're not listening, then back at you. “i'll think about it, cheerleader,” nat says, her voice softer than usual. “but if we do this, i get to decide where we go. deal?”

you blink, surprised by her answer, but you can't hide the grin that spreads across your face. that's not a no. it's far from it, actually.

“deal,” you agree, heart racing in your chest hopefully.

“good,” she says, her lips curling slightly as she pats her pocket, where she must still keep the note with your number on it. “i’ll let you know when. don't go getting your hopes up, though!”

and with that, she turns back to the group, pulling the collar of her jacket up higher, but you catch the smallest smile before she does.

you're not sure if you've just secured somewhat of a date with nat scatorccio or if you're just being hopeful. either way you’re not ready to back down yet.

you don't hear back from nat right away. truthfully, you're not sure you ever will. then, three days later, just when you've pretty much given up on it, the telephone rings.

“hello?” you say, balancing the phone between your ear and shoulder as you set your homework aside.

“hey, cheerleader”

your heart practically jumps at the sound of nat's voice, low and almost reluctant, as though she's already second-guessing this decision

“nat?” you ask, sitting up straighter.

“yeah,” she replies, and you can practically hear her smirking through the phone. “i said i'd think about it, didn't i?”

a stupidly wide smile spreads across your face before you can stop it.

“you did. so, what's the verdict?”

there's a pause on the other end, and then: “tomorrow night. meet me at the bowling alley on main street, eight o'clock?”

“bowling?” you repeat, surprised.

“yeah, you know? shoes that look like fucking clown rejects, greasy fries, cheap drinks?” she pauses, and her voice takes on a teasing edge. “figured it'd be fun to see you totally suck at something for once!”

you laugh softly, shaking your head. “wow, thanks for the vote of confidence. are you any good?”

nat immediately snorts, and the sound is so sudden and genuine that it makes your grin widen. “hell no. i fucking suck. but they've got an arcade, so if we both bomb at bowling, at least there's that!”

“an arcade?”

“what, you don't think i could beat your ass at pinball?”

“oh i think i could destroy you at pinball, actually!” you laugh into the speaker

“big talk, cheerleader,” nat says, her smirk audible. “guess we'll see, huh?”

“guess we will,” you reply, still smiling.

there's a moment of silence before she speaks again, her tone quieter now. “see you tomorrow, then. don't flake!”

“i won't," you promise. “you better not either!”

nat scoffs lightly. “yeah, yeah. see you at eight!”

before you can respond, the line goes dead, leaving you with the telephone pressed to your ear, smiling like an idiot.

— a/n: happy new year everyone!! here’s the first part of my little nat series (masterlist) <3

[adoringdanvers]

CRUSH | Masterlist

paring: natalie scatorccio/fem!reader

summary:

Natalie Scatorccio was the kind of trouble you were supposed to avoid. Her reputation preceded her—fights, joyrides, and a trail of chaos that left almost everyone with a sour taste in their mouths. You lived in a world of quiet routines and neatly folded edges, far removed from the storm she carried with her. But Natalie had a pull you couldn’t ignore. There was something about her—the sharp edges, the way she didn’t care, the way she seemed to see through everyone. You told yourself to stay away, to look the other way. You never did. You don’t know when curiosity turned to fascination or when fascination became something more. But Natalie’s trouble had its own gravity, and you were powerless to resist. She was jagged, wild, and devastating—a trainwreck waiting to happen. You were too careful for her world. She was too reckless for yours. And yet, you couldn’t stay away.

a/n: yes all of the chapter titles will be song titles. no im not original. yes im aware the overall summary sounds like a bad wattpad fic. sue me.

ao3

PRELUDE: CRUSH

▸ ACT ONE

CIGARETTE DAYDREAMS

HOW CAN I MAKE IT OK?

DO I WANNA KNOW?

▸ ACT TWO

RIBS (WIP)

?

?

▸ ACT THREE

?

?

?

▸ ACT FOUR

?

?

?

EPILOGUE: ?

[adoringdanvers]

Everyone mad about the potential “adult Shauna/ghost Jackie sex scene” gonna be real mad when I say that I think Natalie’s ghost should eat Misty out this season

[adoringdanvers]

adult nat doesn’t get enough love

LOOK AT HER

[adoringdanvers]

they go to therapy they get married and they are happy !!!

[adoringdanvers]

my valentines plans with the girls(gn)

[adoringdanvers]

Keeya King as Akilah Yellowjackets, 1x09 "Doomcoming"

[adoringdanvers]

lawtie matthews

[adoringdanvers]

CRUSH | ACT ONE: DO I WANNA KNOW?

pairing: natalie scatorccio/fem!reader

summary: You're studying on a Friday. Natalie doesn't like that.

wc: 4200 (blaze it) (im not funny)

warnings: none. I think.

a/n: happy birthday 2 me. here is another chapter. lowkey i wasnt planning on have two chapters in a row with a ? in them but oh well yolo and all that fun stuff. anyways this chapter is basically just two losers yapping (next one will b longer promise)

ao3 / masterlist

PREVIOUS - ACT ONE: HOW CAN I MAKE IT OK?

NEXT - ACT TWO: (idk yet titles are hard) (WIP)

The thing about Natalie Scatorccio is that she always seems to find you when you least expect it. It’s like she has a sixth sense, some radar that tells her exactly when you’re trying not to think about her—and then she shows up, smirking like she knows all your secrets. 

Today is no different. You’re sitting on the steps outside the library, flipping halfheartedly through a history textbook, when her shadow falls over you.

"Studying on a Friday, Princess?" She lets out a low whistle, "Now, that's tragic."

You roll your eyes and let a scoff fall from your lips, "Listen, not everyone can afford to just… throw caution to the wind or whatever. Some of us actually need to study."

Nat snorts as she fishes a cigarette out of her pocket, bringing it to her lips and lighting it, "I do study, just not on Fridays, like a nerd." She gives you a pointed glare, but it lacks any actual heat.

Without giving you a chance to object, she throws her duffle bag down on the steps next to you and sits down with a grunt. "Seriously, though." She ashes her cigarette, "Why're you sittin' alone out here, head in your…" She glances at the cover of your textbook, "history book when you could be doin' anything else?"

You shrug and close your textbook with a sigh, "I dunno. I guess it's just… the way things are, or whatever. Never really been the type of person who goes out on Fridays." Nat nods in understanding as she takes a slow drag from her cigarette, "Yeah, I get that. Nothin' wrong with that. But it gets boring after a while, yeah? Doin' the same thing every week, set in some constant routine?"

"I guess," You sigh and move to put your textbook into your backpack, "But don't you have routines? I mean, soccer and all that?"

"Yeah, I got some routine. Some days, I get up earlier than others to make it to practice. Some days, I spend some time after school kicking around a ball in the field. But that's not my point." Another drag of her smoke, "My point is that you can have some routine, but life is so fucking boring if that's all your life is." She rolls the end of the cigarette between her thumb and pointer finger for a few seconds before looking at you, squinting against the harsh light of the sun that beats down from behind you. "You gotta have something to shake it up every now and then, yeah? You don't gotta go to a party every week, but what's stoppin' you from goin' to one now and then?"

"It's just never been my scene, I guess. My friends and I don't really… do parties, you know? Like, we have small get-togethers or whatever, but we don't party. Never really seen myself as a party person, either." You shrug, zipping up your bag and moving it to rest on the step in front of you, "I dunno. I guess the…" You wave your hands around as you think of the proper words to use, "loud music and annoying people isn't exactly what I consider fun." A fond shake of your head and a gentle laugh, "But, hey, all the power to you if that's what you do find fun."

"You ever been invited to a party?" Nat chimes in after considering your statement for a few seconds.

You have to think about that question for a few seconds. "Yes." You finally manage, which earns you a skeptical look from the woman sitting next to you.

"Then why'd you have to think about it?" 

"Oh my God." You roll your eyes, "Because it's been a while since I got invited to one, alright? Like I said, I don't hang out with the type of people that go to parties. So…"

Nat hums at that, seemingly accepting the answer you've given her. "Alright. So what do you do on Fridays? Or the weekend? Or whenever you aren't with your nose in some book." She gestures to your backpack and the textbook inside of it by extension. "Nothin' wrong with it, but you gotta do something else, yeah?"

A huff leaves your mouth before you can stop it, "Well, you've caught me sketching once or twice, yeah? I'm a pretty big fan of that. Uhhh…" You think for a few seconds, feeling like this is an awkward first date where the person is asking, "What do you do for fun?" and it takes everything in you not to give out the most generic answers possible. "I think I mentioned meteor showers to you before? I, uh, I like stargazing. And I guess I kinda play games sometimes? Although it's usually just… simulation games or whatever. The mindless stuff."

"Right." The girl smirks to herself as she muddles over your hobbies in her head. "Drawing, stargazing, and simulation games. Yeah, you, my friend, are a walking funfest, you know that?" One last drag from her cigarette before snuffing it out on the step, "That stuff is fun and all, but you need some more excitement in your life."

"What? Like… stealing BuzzBalls from corner stores?" A faint smirk tugs at your lips, "Or taking joyrides in stolen Maseratis?" 

"First of all," Nat cuts you off before you can continue, "It was a Mazda. There's a huge difference. Second of all…" She hums and leans back, resting her elbows on the next step up. 

She looks over you in a curious sort of way, appraising your form and being. "You could skate. Could convince Kev to teach you a thing or two at the skatepark, as long as you aren't gonna cry if you fall. If you play simulation games, you might not be half-bad at pool or darts. Hell, even thrifting or something. Refresh your wardrobe. I swear, every time I see you, you're basically wearing the same thing, just in different variants." Then, a sly grin. "But the fun stuff? Bet I could teach you to tag stuff without getting caught. You're already an artist; you should leave your mark on some places, yeah?" Her grin widens, "Maybe I could even convince you to bust into an old factory with me." A beat, "Unless… you're afraid of ghosts?" Then, she's laughing to herself.

You try to fight the grin on your face, but it's hard when you find her smile to be one of the most contagious things you've ever seen. "I'm not afraid of ghosts, thank you." A dramatic roll of your eyes earns another laugh from Nat, her smile wide and plastered on her face like she's having the time of her life. "But, also… I dunno. Maybe I could be convinced to try something new." "Maybe?" Nat parrots, still half-laughing. "Nah. I will convince you to "try something new"; you just haven't seen how convincing I can be yet." A self-satisfied grin replaces the smile she was wearing, and she leans in slightly, lowering her voice. "And I can be real convincing, Princess."

And… yep. You're blushing again. Nat, of course, notices this. Her grin gets ten times toothier, clearly satisfied with herself, and she leans back again. "But," She shrugs—as if she didn't just fluster the shit out of you with a single sentence. "That's for a later date."

Before you get a chance to respond to that, you catch sight of two girls wearing practice uniforms approaching—a simple grey shirt with the mascot's name on it and some shorts. You've seen them around before; it's a small town, after all. 

Jackie Taylor—homecoming queen and captain of the girl's soccer team. Beside her, Shauna Shipman—who you… honestly don't know much about. You're pretty sure the two of them are best friends despite the fact that they seem like polar opposites. 

Something something opposites attract, or whatever.

"Nat." Jackie stops in front of the two of you, regarding you with a half-assed smile for a fraction of a second before turning back to Nat, "You will be at practice today, right? You aren't gonna ditch again to do—"

"Yes, Jackie. I will fucking be at practice, alright?" Nat cuts her off with a scowl and a roll of her eyes. You swear she's gonna add something else but opts against it.

"Well… good." Jackie nods, then glances at you for much longer than she did initially, a curious expression on her face. 

You don't have to guess why the expression is there, either. You aren't that dumb. You don't really look like the type of person Natalie Scatorccio hangs out with—not with your textbooks, sketchbooks, and meekness. No, you've seen the people she hangs out with. Misfits, mostly. There's that one goth kid, that guy with curly hair, and the redhead chick—who also plays on the soccer team with Nat. Then there are the… less than savoury characters. The people who she isn't seen around as much, but everyone knows she is around. Not hardened criminals per se, but people who are very, very rough around the edges. People who have longer rap sheets and far more "experience" being criminals than Natalie does.

Either way, Jackie doesn't comment on the stark difference between Natalie's usual crowd and you.

You give the team captain a tense smile as she looks at you, which she quickly returns before looking back at the girl sitting next to you, "We start in thirty."

"Yeah, I know, Princess." Natalie rolls her eyes, "I'm well aware what time practice starts, thank you."

"I was just trying to—" Jackie huffs and crosses her arms, "Whatever. Be there." Then she walks off, seemingly pouting, and Shauna gives Nat a shrug in apology before following.

Once the pair are out of earshot, Nat groans and pushes a hand through her bleached hair, "See, that's someone I call a princess in a derogatory manner."

You snort, "But it's not derogatory with me?"

"Nah." She shakes her head, "With you? It just… feels right. Dunno. Like that one chick we called "Crystal the Pistol" a few times. It's an affectionate nickname, or whatever." She waves a hand dismissively, "Not my point. Point is, when I say it to you, it's…" A beat of hesitation as she tries to find the right words, "Ugh. I don't know. I'm not good with words. Just know it's a good nickname, not a bad one."

"Right." Your eyes narrow slightly at that, but you don't push the topic further.

Which Nat seems grateful for, anyway. "Anyways. What the hell were we talking about?"

"Uhhhhh… hobbies, and how mine are, apparently, drastically boring?"

"Oh. Right." She nods, thinking about the previous conversation for a minute, then she gives a fond roll of her eyes and turns to you with a soft grin, "I mean… you said it. Not me. I just said you need some excitement. I'm not the one that goes stargazing for fun."

"Right. And most of your suggestions were…" You hum in mock thought, "Illegal, no?"

"'s only illegal if you get caught, actually." Nat shoots back, "And where's your sense of adventure, huh?" She nudges you with her elbow, "Gotta live a little, Princess. I know that BuzzBall was probably the first time you've ever… partaken in something illegal."

You roll your eyes and lean your back against the railing as you turn at the waist to face her, "Sorry, I don't willingly rob stores for fun in my free time. My bad."

You think you see Nat's jaw twitch at the comment, making you think you said the wrong thing, but before you can dwell on it too long or too hard, she lets out a hollow laugh. "Yeah, well, certified adrenaline junkie and all that. What can I say? Robbing stores gives me a rush." But the words come out slightly strained—like she's not telling you the whole story.

She clears her throat, clearly eager to move on from that particular line of conversation. "Whatever. Still. Like I said, I can… get Kev to teach you how to skate. Or… hell, you ever kicked a soccer ball around before?"

"In PE, yeah. But that's about it."

"Hmm." The blonde considers this, "You any good at it?" You snort, "Hardly varsity material, but I'm not, like, terrible at it or anything."

"Yeah? Well, maybe I can show you how to be junior varsity material. Shouldn't be that hard to play better than a few freshies, yeah? Maybe I'll even teach you some soccer tricks." She grins to herself, "Teach you the basics of freestyling soccer balls."

"Mm, promising a lot here, Nat. First, you're saying that you'll teach me to play good enough to beat some "freshies" in soccer, then telling me you'll teach me tricks?" You click your tongue, "How do I know you aren't gonna completely bail on me?" "Oh, make no mistake, I don't go back on my word. If I say I'm gonna do something, then you can bet your sweet ass I'm gonna do it, yeah?" A toothy grin, "And that's the Scatorccio guarantee."

You snort, "Yeah, you say that like your last name holds a lot of value when it comes to trust—" 

The words are meant to be teasing, they come out in a teasing tone, but you still feel like a piece of shit the second they leave your mouth.

"I… I didn't mean it like that. Sorry. I wasn't thinking—"

"Nah, no," Nat shakes her head and waves her hands, "no. Don't worry about it. I'm not mad at you or anything." A grin, likely to ease your nerves, "You're not exactly wrong either. But I'm giving you my word anyway. Which… you should take." 

"Hm." You take some mock consideration to that, "I will take it for now. But I make no promises for whether I keep it or not."

"Won't regret it." Her grin becomes slightly more genuine, "Promise."

You spend the next… ten, fifteen minutes? talking to Nat on the steps of the library, actually getting to know each other, rather than those single-minded adventures that the two of you have been on the past little while.

You trade off on the typical "first date" questions: Favourite food (Hers is apparently pizza, which you said was boring, then she rolled her eyes and dropped "Ribollita" and refused to actually tell you what that means.), fast food (Said "Taco Bell" immediately.) music (Matches her. Veruca Salt, Blondie, Nirvana, The Pixies… you get the idea. You asked her if she played the music on tape decks. She said yes. You don't know if she's joking or not.), books (She called you a nerd. Then proceeded to say, "The Anarchist Cookbook".), least favourite teacher (Mr. Miller, who teaches Auto Shop and keeps telling her repair work is sloppy.), and most importantly: the meaning of life ("ask me after I've had a tab or two"??).

After spending the past three minutes trying to convince her you don't get straight A's in every class, you decide just to show her your most recent in Physics and you… realise you left your binder in your locker.

"Crap." You sigh as you peer into your backpack, "I think I left my Science binder in my locker."

Nat snorts, "Didn't you open your bag earlier to put away your textbook? How didn't you notice it then?" "Because I wasn't thinking about it then." You sigh and close your bag, "I need to grab it from my locker. I don't—" "I'll come with you. Need to head to the locker room and change into practice gear." She cuts you off, pushes herself off the stairs, and, much to your surprise, actually waits for you before she starts walking. You try not to act surprised by this as you grab your backpack and throw it over your shoulders. When she does catch you acting surprised, because of course she does, she grins and rolls her eyes. "I said I was coming with you. Which means I am following you, and you aren't following me. Therefore, I have to wait for you. I still don't wait for people to follow me, Princess."

You can't fight the way your eyes roll and lips purse at that comment, "Right." Once you're standing, the pair of you head off in the direction of your locker.

"Dude, your locker is all the way in the old science hall? Who the fuck goes here anymore? There are zero classes near this place anymore. It must take five minutes to walk from class-to-fucking-class." She mutters, more to herself than you, and shakes her head as you two reach your destination. "Yeah, if I could have chosen my locker, it would be in the English hall. Right in the center of all my classes. I'm also pretty sure I'm the only person who has their locker in this hall." You sigh as you start to fiddle with the lock, "I've basically only seen the janitor up here. I don't know what I did to piss off whoever assigned lockers, but here I am." A sigh leaves your lips as the lock clicks open, "Admin won't even let me move lockers." Nat snorts and leans on the locker adjacent yours, "Yeah, sounds about right. They don't actually give a shit about the students here. I mean, for all the money going into athletics, you'd think they'd give us uniforms that don't chafe." An exasperated roll of her eyes, "So stupid."

"Sounds about right. Didn't the money go to the boy's baseball team or something?" She seems slightly surprised you know that but gives a nod of her head. "Uh, yeah. That's right. Which makes no sense considering we won states last year, and this year we actually have a good chance of—"

Her eyes zero in on the binder you're grabbing. "Holy shit. Is that colour-coded?" Her jaw drops in awe (or shock?), and she takes it from your hands, flipping it open. "H-o-l-y s-h-i-t. It is."

"I like having things organized by unit, whether it's a worksheet or notes!" You defend yourself, grabbing the binder back from her with a huff, "Sue me, okay!"

"Shit, I should." She lets out a low whistle, "Damn. All this for a…" She peers at the test you were going to show her, "B? Damn, Princess. That's unfortunate."

"You're making fun of me." You murmur petulantly, slamming the binder shut and shoving it into your backpack, "What's your GPA then, huh?"

Nat hums as she considers that answer, "Three point three."

"Wait." You turn to look at her, "Seriously?"

She laughs, "Yeah, seriously. I can't play soccer if I'm failing all my classes. Just because I don't show up to class doesn't mean I don't do the work for them." A roll of her eyes, like it was an obvious answer. 

"Mm. And do you do the work for them, or do you pay some unsuspecting nerd—"

"What makes you think I have the money to pay anyone to do anything?" The girl cuts you off with a snort and crosses her arms, "Trust me, I do all my work myself."

"Hey, who said anything about money?" You grin at her, "You have… dubious tendencies. For all I know, you're paying them some other way." You offer a teasing shrug, "Like stolen BuzzBalls or…" A faux gasp, "Oh my God. Am I the unsuspecting nerd?" Nat scoffs once and looks away, "Yeah, right." Another scoff. Then another.

…wait. Is she blushing? Did you just fluster Natalie Scatorccio? On accident? 

Between the way she won't meet your eyes, fiddles with the hem of her shirt, her usually pale cheeks now with the faintest hint of colour in them, and she swallows nervously? Wow. You think you did. How the tables…

You don't get too long to reflect on that before she's seemingly recovered and trying to act unaffected. "What if I am, nerd?" She leans into your personal space, "Maybe I'm looking for an unsuspecting nerd to do more than just my homework."

Now you're the flustered one. Again. "Uh—"

"I mean, think about it." She licks her lips, "The unsuspecting nerd and the resident burnout. Talk about opposites attracting. I could show you so much shit." A feral grin crosses her features, and your entire body heats up without your consent, "I could make you feel real—"

You take a step back, putting up both a metaphorical and physical space between you two. "Natalie. I don't—"

"Don't what? Oh, come on, Princess. Don't act like you haven't been thinking about it. I'm not dumb. I've seen the way you've been looking at me. Don't act like—"

You look visibly uncomfortable. Flustered, yes, but also uncomfortable. You're wringing your hands together in a subconscious act of anxiety, and whether that's because of her proximity or the situation, you aren't quite sure. Either way, Nat notices this.

You swear you see something like guilt flash behind her eyes once she realises she made you uncomfortable, but no outward attempt at an apology is made.

Natalie clears her throat and takes a small step back, the bravado dropping in an instant. "Whatever." She crosses her arms again, "Whatever. Let's just…" Her jaw tenses, and she shakes her head. "Nevermind." 

There's some very tense air that passes between the both of you as you awkwardly close and lock your locker, neither of you bothering to glance at the other, letting the awkwardness fester.

It probably would have kept festering, too, had the sound of Natalie's phone vibrating not broken the silence.

"Goddammit, I swear to God if Jackie is—" Her mouth snaps shut as she looks down at her phone, and a slow grin finds its way onto her mouth. "Ooooh, fuck yes." She looks up at you, "Say, Princess, you doing anything tonight?"

"Uhhhh…" You shake your head, "No? I was just planning on staying at home and…" You shrug, "I dunno. Relaxing, or whatever."

"Mm. I have a better idea. You should come to a party tonight."

"Oh." 

"Oh? That's it?" Nat rolls her eyes, "Come on. What was it I said about needing to get out of your comfort zone? A party is the perfect time and place to do it!" She shakes her head (and hands), "Look, it's a bonfire. If things go poorly, you can just… sit and stare at the fire and ignore everyone."

An unsure breath leaves your lips as you consider all the possibilities in your head. Of course, your mind heads to the worst-case scenario first, like a completely normal person would.

"Dude, seriously." She says, softer this time. "No pressure. It's just… a bonfire party… no, get-together, with some friends. That's it, yeah? Not like the entire town is gonna be there." She reiterates, throwing some emphasis on the fact it's "just a bonfire get-together," as if that will soothe all your nerves.

More hesitation on your part, but you can't deny the curiosity that seeds its way into your mind at the idea of seeing Nat in her element for once. "I… I don't know, Nat. It really isn't my scene—"

"It doesn't have to be your scene. It's just gonna be the place you spend a single Friday night. That's it. Don't ever gotta come to one again if you decide you hate it. Won't even bring it up again. Promise."

Even more hesitation. Even more curiosity you can't shove down and hide, for better or worse.

You don’t belong in the scene she frequents. Not really. But the way she grinned—like you were some project she couldn’t wait to take on—made you want to, even if it was just for one night.

"Come on. Drinks are free. Maybe they'll have more coolers you can try. Really dip your toes into the world of alcoholic beverages." She snickers.

Man, peer pressure does work, doesn't it?

You’re not a party person. But then again, Natalie Scatorccio isn’t just a person—she’s the reason you’re even considering it.

"I can't believe I'm gonna say this…" You shake your head and sigh, "But… fine. Fine. I'll… I'll go to this stupid party."

A wide grin crosses her face. Wide and very pleased with herself. "Perfect. Good choice. Best choice, really. Won't regret it, promise." She pushes herself off the locker beside yours, "I gotta get to practice. But I will… see you tonight, yeah?"

"Yeah. Yes." You sigh reluctantly, "I will… see you tonight, Nat."

"Hell yeah, you will. Maybe I'll even convince you to crack a beer or two. Smoke a cigarette. Real delinquent shit." She laughs at that as she begins walking off toward the gym, "See you tonight, Princess!" Nat calls from over her shoulder, "I'll text you the address!"

You watch her leave, blinking a few times in shock that she was able to convince you to go to a high school party so quickly.

"Well." You mumble to yourself, "Guess senior year isn't the worst time to go to your first party." You rub your forehead, mildly frustrated with yourself and your ability to say no, "Goddammit."

Well. Guess you have a party to prepare for, huh?

a/n: can i be so real with yall for a sec

every time i type in "natalie scatorccio" on pinterest i start feeling weird after the first few minutes cus I'm like "damn I'm fr just staring at photos of sophie thatcher rn" but I suppose it could be worse. could be staring at photos of (insert ugly celebrity name here)

[adoringdanvers]

The Yellowjackets play Minecraft

•Jackie digs straight down when she finds diamonds and she always falls into the lava.

•Shauna's pinky finger game is so strong from all the shift clicking but Jackie still manages to push her off cliffs when they play together.

•Van hates going to the nether because her ass is always on fire when raiding the fortress.

•Taissa gets pissed because someone keeps stealing valuables from her chest but no one ever admits it.

•Lottie loves building cute little cottage core houses.

•Natalie loves to build creepy themed buildings (always next to Lottie's) using only dark blocks and ruining her cute aesthetic.

•Misty has elytra long before the others have even enchanted a single item.

•Javi also. He helps Natalie with potion making (she still sucks at it and keeps asking him how to make water breathing potions)

•They always send Travis to fish (for enchantment books mostly).

•Shauna has a well put together farming system. She plans on getting her gear from trading with the villagers.

•Mari keeps hitting the villagers and Shauna is absolutely furious with her because they always raise their prices after being assaulted.

•Jackie took hours to learn how to make a villager breeder and after she did,she kept the thing on until villager babies clogged it. Natalie tried helping her but they broke some blocks and all the villager babies ran out.

•Shauna returns from the stronghold to find the place swimming with villagers and she goes absolutely feral. She starts chasing them around with her sword and she accidentally kills Misty's parrot(those fuckers take like, one wack with a wooden sword).

•Misty gets upset and sets Shauna's house on fire.

•Jackie is glad she didn't commit to taming any rabbits.

•Lottie's too busy gathering clay for her flower pots to care for the mayhem going on across the river.

[adoringdanvers]

wait the thing you said about lottie walking in on u jerking off at the wellness centre & asking if you need help. 🤯. #needthat

a/n: didn't expect it to get this long but erm 🥸 reader is afab.

Your toes curl with excitement, and your belly flips as you prepare for the night, smiling to yourself as you plop your head against the soft pillows. God, you've been waiting for this all fuckin' day. All you could think about as you helped Lottie around the center was going back to your room and making yourself cum. But you haven't been able to touch yourself in a hot minute because of how busy you are as Lottie's new assistant. And when you do get the urge to masturbate after a stressful day, you're either too tired or too lazy. Today you were both, but you were able to go home earlier than usual and you knew that if you didn't take the opportunity to jerk off tonight, it'd be weeks until your clit was finally satisfied. It was hard to work sometimes because of the constant throbbing, and maybe you did excuse yourself to the bathroom a couple of times to try and relieve the aching but couldn't go through with it. It was like everyone knew you were trying to jerk off and decided to walk into the bathroom before you were able to cum.

It was pure torture.

And it certainly didn't help when Charlotte—Lottie— was one of those people who walked in. Honestly, you probably could have cum just from getting caught by her of all people (your crush on her is massive.), but you knew you'd let out a terribly loud moan and expose yourself. So you just warmed up your fingers while she did her business and left, thinking of how in the hell you could get through 5 more hours of this.

But you don't have to wonder anymore. You are going to lie here in bed for hours just cumming to make up for lost time. And, yes, you are a little disappointed you weren't able to bring your vibrator with you when you checked yourself into Lottie's center. You miss the powerful gal. It's a shame it won't be giving you your first orgasm in over a month, but your fingers are better than nothing.

You bite your lips softly as you trail your fingers down your chest, sighing softly at how you seem 10x more sensitive. Goosebumps form on your skin and cause you to shiver slightly, and you grin lazily as you think about what's next to come (Spoiler: it's gonna be you!).

Fingers touch the hair on your mound and you let out a louder-than-expected groan, peeking your eyes open like you've been caught. You flush with hot embarrassment but shake your head, continuing your movements downward and lightly touching your clit. Your hips jerk forward, desperate for more pressure. For a second you think about teasing yourself but you decide you're crazy. You need to cum now. You don't even care if you finish in seconds, you need it.

You gather your slick and rub it on your clit for a few seconds before plunging your fingers into your hole, eyes closing so hard you see moving stars. The lazy grin is back on your face as you move your fingers in and out, in and out, and you get off to the sound of your wetness echoing around the room. You grip the white bedsheets as you feel that familiar coil in your belly and sit up slightly, breathing heavily and moving your fingers even faster inside of you. The blankets are bothering you so you decide to kick them off with a huff and spread your legs further apart, hips chasing your fingers as they work inside of your cunt. The coil gets hotter but you can't seem to unleash it. You know you're so close but at the same time, it's miles away. You let out a frustrated grunt and tilt your head back in irritation, closing your eyes and trying to melt your brain into a puddle of nothing so you can relax.

It works too well apparently, because you can't even hear your bedroom door open and notice Lottie walk in with a stunned look on her face. She freezes, eyes glued to your sopping wet pussy and the way you move your fingers so roughly. Realization hits her when she feels a throb of her own down there, and she quietly closes the door. Lottie feels excitement surge through her as she watches like a voyeur, her fingers twitching as she imagines that they're her own instead of yours.

You still can't cum.

You whine in frustration and flop on your back, moving your fingers back to your clit and opening your eyes to stare at the popcorn ceiling.

"Do you need my help?"

You choke at the sound of the voice and sit up, eyes widening in horror when you see Lottie standing there. You fish for your blanket and attempt to cover yourself up but she raises her hand, signaling for you to stop. Lottie walks slowly and calmly over to your bed, and you feel your clit pulse uncontrollably as she sits down next to you.

"I-I'm sorry..." you mumble, not really knowing why you apologized. It was she who walked in without knocking...

Lottie shushes you and you clamp your mouth shut immediately. "I asked you a question."

To be completely honest, you can't remember what she even said.

"Do you need help touching yourself?" she raises her voice a little, making you flush at how assertive she sounds.

Once you let out a small and squeaky "yes", her hands rip the rest of the blanket off you and travel up your thighs. She pushes you back on the bed and looms over you, making your hips involuntarily thrust up into her. Her neck veins are so visible it makes you feel like a vampire ready to feed. All you wanna do is lick them.

"I'll take good care of you, don't you worry," she smiles a smile that teeters on the edge of predatory. Lottie scoots down your body until she's face to face with your wet heat. Her mouth waters at your scent. "You can't tell anyone about this though, you understand? What would everyone think if they knew I had my mouth on such a young member of this community?"

An open-mouthed kiss is placed on your clit.

You lurch forward and hover your hand over her head, feeling unsure if you should touch her. She smiles up at you, eyes bright and gleaming, and lifts her head until it touches your palm.

"Don't be so shy. You can touch me."

You push her back down toward your pussy and she gets to work, licking up to your clit and sucking it into her mouth.

Tonight is going to be one you won't forget for a long, long time.

[adoringdanvers]

Misty is so in love with Natalie

[adoringdanvers]

when tai sleepwaks 😭

[adoringdanvers]

Taivan Wild West au part 2 + Nat

[adoringdanvers]

you are the other one aren't you?