#erin cuthbert imagine

[ac3may]

I will write for...

Requests are open!

This list is subject to change Feel free to suggest players outside of this list chances are I’ll be willing to give them a go Also more than happy to just discuss opinions on players, dating preferences, who you/we think their ideal partner would be if y’all think that’d be fun!

Masterlist

Works In Progress

Requests: Open

Sam Kerr

Millie Bright

Leah Williamson

Alessia Russo

Ella Toone

Georgia Stanway

Lucy Bronze

Lotte Wubben-Moy

Mary Earps

Rachel Daly

Erin Cuthbert

Ellie Roebuck

Lauren James

Emily Orman

Niamh Charles

Millie Turner

Leah Galton

Katie McCabe

Caitlin Foord

Alanna Kennedy

[pitchsidestories]

Erin Cuthbert Masterlist

oneshots

A kiss from my enemy

[trulyhblue]

Bf Leah being wound up after a bad game and takes control. Smut pls!!!!

BLED BLUE

leah williamson x chelsea! reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, humiliation, dom/sub dynamics, age gap (legal + consensual), hate sex, enemies w/ benefits, rough, coarse language.

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Part of you wondered how long it would take Leah to take you home. There was not an ounce of blue in her body, taken only by the lifelong allegiance to North London, but the thought of you, a blue-born Chelsea girl, taking up the space under her sheets, was addictive.

Chelsea were the better team. Always was, and always will be. The Blues were better at everything. Their players were more advanced, their game plans had been executed to perfection. Arsenal were sloppy, poor, and unjust. It was embarrassing to the point where it stood out as entertaining to you. Seeing the almighty, reigning Arsenal fall on their knees and succumb to the superiority of your team was endearing, and you found yourself searching for the thrill increasingly more as the game progressed.

And the sight of the woman you hated oh so much angered by the defeated notion of the final whistle was your idea of an indescribable victory.

“What a shame, Williamson.” You snagged, clutching the fabric at your hips, looking down at her bent figure. “I thought you’d play well.”

“Ah, it is you.” She replied with just as much spite. “I thought I saw someone falling flat on their face. Makes sense now that I know it was you.”

You smirked, folding your arms over your chest. “Yeah, tried to show my humility… y’know, after scoring two goals tonight I thought it was only necessary.”

Leah scoffed, straightening her posture to display her authoritative height over you. “Both off deflections… sounds brilliant.”

“Player of the match worthy.” You bit back, stepping forward, pressing your chest against hers, suppressing the heat in your face. “Don't worry, I’ll make sure to credit your own goal in the interview.”

“Always have an excuse to talk about me. Can't stop, can you?”

“Is that what you think of me?”

“I don't think of you.” Leah shook her head, grabbing the hem of your shorts and fiddling with them persistently. “But if I did, I’d be sure to let you know.”

“If only I cared enough to hear it.” You tutted, not really caring about the openness of your situation. The stadium was still quite full, with both of your teammates lingering on the field. Fans were banking the barricade, no doubt looking for the two of you.

“I could tell you now if you’d like.”

“Aw, are you thinking of me now, Williamson?”

You felt Leah’s hand move to the inside of your thigh, pressing a tight pinch to gain any type of reaction from you. Biting your lip, you hoped that the post-game redness covered your blush.

“I bet you love the thought of people watching this, don't you?” She asked, glaring at you with such hatred that her words felt bittersweet. “Always so desperate for attention that you’d do it in front of everyone. Fucking needy.”

“You’re the one touching me.” In anger, you snapped. You didn't like the way Leah seemed so confident, so right in what she was saying. You wanted to be right. You were the one who won it for your team. You were better than her. She needed to realise that.

The only separation between the two of you was by your arms crossed over your chest. Leah was drawing furious patterns along your thigh, pressed up against you with her face above you, your height earning her to look down.

“Pull away then.” She uttered, now pulling you into a hug. You knew this would send fans into a spiral. Everybody knew about your rivalry with Leah. It was evident in the tackles, the cards, the teams, the games, the interactions. This was unclaimed territory. You had both teased each other after the games. There was always fire and spite, anger and resentment, but never contact. She told you to pull away, and by the tension that lingered, if you did she would let you have there was something else there. You felt it between your legs, running down your spine, making your core yearn.

It was in the way she kept her hand in between your thighs, deepening her fingers just below where you needed her most. She held you tight, closing any physical gap, forcing your arms to circle her waist as she wrapped her spare arm around the name on the back of your shoulders. You don't know why, but you held her back just as tight, breathing heavily when she started moving her fingers upwards.

“So tense.” She spat, rubbing your shoulder.

You shook her arm off, keeping the contact but still resistant. “I pulled it at training, of course it is.”

“Wasn't talking about your shoulder, baby.” She chuckled, her voice sending goosebumps down your neck. “In those thighs. Clenching them so hard and I'm hardly touching ‘em.”

That was when you knew your cheeks were burning.

There was a hint of humiliation in your tone, but your anger was still prevalent. “I didn't even notice your hand.”

“Yeah, alright.” Williamson grinned, pulling away. You felt the cold air nip your cheeks at the sudden loss of contact. Her fingers were no longer soothing the ache in between your legs. “Alright, baby, no, all that flushed cheeks from the big game, hm? Breathing so heavily cause you scored two goals, is that you’re so wet for me?”

“I’m not— you're so—”

Leah stepped away again, and you were too stupid to step forward in response. “God, is that what you're gonna sound like in the interview? You a mess, Baby, really. All flustered and red.”

“I'm not red.” You snapped. “And stop calling me baby. You're only four years older than me.”

Leah could see straight through you. “But you love that though.” She saw straight past your visible persona. “Why don't you show me how mature you are then? Can't call you baby if you prove that you're not.” She could tell by your flustered state, your wide eyes and your tainted disposition that you were struggling to handle the conversation.

“I don't need to prove anything to you. I just won the match. That's enough to prove that I'm better anyway.”

“But you needed help to get there, didn't you?” She retorted. “It’s not your name on the score sheet, it's mine. Look,” she pointed up to the screen, almost condescendingly, above the stands, where WILLIAMSON (OG) was printed boldly in white below the score. “All that hard work and I still get the mention.”

There was a fight for dominance, but the fight was so clearly won when you audibly gulped, unable to come up with just enough answer to compel yourself into a deeper state of anger. If anything, you were willing to resort to forbidding, but you were stubborn and bled blue.

“You’re just mad that you lost and we won. Chelsea was always better anyway, and you were just too slow… bet that's always the case.”

Leah’s jaw clicked, her lips settling into a thin line.

“In what case?” She muttered distinctly.

“You know what case.” You failed to notice the challenge, finding yourself in a superior position of confidence to realise the hole you were digging for yourself. “Slow and boring… on and off the pitch. You definitely get around, but you never seem to see one person twice. Maybe that's because they don't want to see you.”

Leah grabbed your wrist, yanking you off the field. It was a tradition that you would see the fans after every game, so you tugged back in retaliation.

She pivoted to face you, glaring at you with so much affliction that you yearned for more.

“You seem really interested in how I ‘get around’. Sounds like you wish it was you.”

No matter how hard your body was willing to succumb to her words, you stood firm by scoffing, rolling your eyes at her cockiness. “If only I was so desperate.”

“I’ll show you just how desperate I can get you.” The captain spat, holding your forearm now, easily leading you further down the tunnel where fans or players could no longer find you. “Didn't even properly touch you before and you were a needy mess.”

“You’re always so fucking sure of yourself, aren't you, Williamson?” You snapped back, hearing the clad of your boots fail to drown out your ungrateful tone. You did not care for what Leah was so keen to impress you with. Never had anyone told you that Leah did not impress. She was determined to make sure everyone was supplied with the right things for their needs. She valued giving pleasure over receiving. But if there was one thing she hated, it was brats like you.

You stood outside the Chelsea changing rooms, your kit still adorned on your figure.

“Go get your shit.” She snarled, letting go of your arm and jabbing you forward.

You scoffed, stopping dead in your tracks. “And what? You're gonna wait for me and drop me home? I have a license, Williamson, I'm not your fucking—”

You couldn't finish your rant, yelping when Leah cut you off, grabbing the collar of your shirt and mashing her lips against yours. One of her legs found its way between yours, her knee pushing against your core. A moan fell from your lips, and the woman wasted no time in slipping her tongue in, caging your figure between you and the wall.

She waited until you were kissing her back before grabbing your neck. She instantly moved down to litter harsh kisses down the nape of your neck, using her hands to move underneath your shirt, massaging your breasts. You were a mess beneath her, breathing heavily when the pressure on your clit intensified when her knee started rubbing patterns up and down.

“Swear at me again and see how it turns out for you.” She muttered in your ear, relishing the whines that fell from your lips as her knee continued its work. “If I tell you to grab your bag, that's what you do, yeah? You understand, Chelsea?”

The nickname left you shrinking, her words making your core glisten. You weren't completely sure whether the Arsenal girl was planning on taking you home. You didn't understand why you were all of a sudden pretty much moaning at the friction of her knee.

But you weren't fucking complaining.

“My teammates are in there.”

Leah let out a laugh. “You had no problem letting me touch you in a filled Stanford Bridge, Babygirl. I think it’d be healthy if your teammates realised who fucks their Stargirl after a home game.”

“You haven't fucked me, yet.” Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, the thought of the England captain fucking you sending you into a spiral.

“Go get your bag and then I can use that pretty mouth for something other than moaning my last name… not that I mind when you do that.”

You wasted no time in doing as you were told, forever thankful that all of your teammates were either still interacting with fans or showering. You grabbed all of your stuff and quickly followed Leah over to the away changing rooms.

She let you walk through, since none of the girls were present, grabbing your belongings and chucking them inside her cubby. You felt her figure cage you back into the nearest wall, her hands how playing with the hem of your shirt, inching it further up your waist until it was completely disregarded, and you were left in your sports bra and shorts.

“Why so quiet?” Leah asked, kissing down the column of your neck, fondling your breasts. You sighed at the growing ache in your core, throwing your head back when Leah’s knee came back into contact with your clit.

“Some— someone’s going to walk in.”

Leah snorted. “Like you would mind.”

You huffed, grabbing the back of her neck and pushing her head further down your body. Leah’s knee stopped in return, leaving you writhing at the loss of pressure.

“Use your words or you can get off yourself.”

“Like you could get me off.” You retorted.

“I don't make brats cum.” She spat, moving back up to tower over you. “I edge them until they’re desperate and getting themself off my thigh. I treat them like brats, and maybe you need to work a little fucking harder for what you want.”

“You were just teasing me!”

“You're just desperate.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Leah.” There it was. Music to her ears.

“What?”

You whined, using your hips to drag yourself along her knee.

“What was that, Baby? Couldn't hear you under all those whines.”

“Leah, c’mon.” You stated potently, getting more impatient by the minute. “I'm not begging.”

The number six shrugged, looking down at you with wide, innocent eyes like she had no clue what you were going on about. Like she didn't even realise that you were humping her leg longing for some relief.

“Begging for what?” She moved her finger painstakingly down your chest, tracing your abs ever so slowly.

“For you.”

“For me?” She questioned, feigning confusion. Her hand dipped into the waistband of your shorts, circling your clit over your underwear. “Answer me, Darling. What do you want me to do? I'm touching you.”

“Touch me more.”

Leah tutted, moving her hand away. You groaned, throwing your head back when no pleasure was offered. “I'm afraid that's not how you ask. It might get you somewhere at Chelsea, but at Arsenal, we treat our Captains with respect. Even our star girls use their manners in the North end.”

“Touch me more, please.”

“Where, Chelsea?” Leah moved closer to you, peeling off her own shirt, removing your shorts, leaving you in your underwear and bra. “Be a good girl and tell me where.” She asked, her body lowering itself closer to the ground. You watched her kneel before you, hands gripping your waist, kneading your hips, lips biting your inner thigh.

“My clit, Lee, please. I need you to touch me there.”

“Such a good girl for your Captain, aren't you?” Leah ran her tongue along your folds, your underwear pooled at your feet. Your legs were swung over her shoulders, your hands buried in her hair, pulling taunt to her ponytail and the hairs that had fallen out during the game. Your moans were still muffled by the bite in your lips, the nerves of someone hearing your desperation for your enemy is still evident in the way you kept your mouth shut.

It was when Leah’s tongue latched onto your clit, sucking harshly on the swollen bud that your noises fell so adamantly from your reddened lips. You felt Leah’s cocky smile, her chuckles sending vibrations of pleasure through your body.

“Sound so pretty, Baby.”

“Leah— fuck, Lee. I'm gonna—”

“You’re going to hold it. Taste so good, you can wait.”

The coil in your stomach was forming long before Leah had even started, and the more Leah attacked your bud, the more your orgasm led to burst. Your moans had doubled in volume when one of her hands came up to play with your nipple, pinching it and playing with the nub every time her tongue licked up your folds. Her other hand worked its way through your pussy, spreading your slick all over your thighs, letting it run down your shaking legs and make your skin glisten with the glossy arousal.

“Want Stanford to hear you,” Leah spoke from below you. You whined at the thought. You were in a state of pure bliss that all cautionary thoughts of interruption were so far gone. All you could think about was Leah’s face between your legs.

“Feels so good, Lee. Want to cum so bad for you.”

“You can hold it, baby.”

“Mh, Lee, please.”

Leah moaned at your whines, nuzzling her nose up against your clit, pinching your nipple hard, reeling at the moan you let out in response. She saw the way your hole clenched around nothing, smirking at the way you rolled your hips across her face, working your pussy into her mouth so easily. She felt powerful knowing she had you at her disposal. You were stunning always, but there was something about you now that set Leah off. It made her angry knowing that you weren't hers to fuck at her discretion. It made her protective over you in ways she had never felt before. You were Chelsea’s protege — everyone worried when going up against you.

“Leah.”

It wasn't like something had changed, but Leah had realised that her hate was actually protection and adoration. She wanted you for herself. She wanted to steer you away from anyone that would hurt you. She hated Chelsea, she despised the West side more than anything, and it wasn't the sex that made her realise this.

“Leah.”

It was her name coming from your lips.

“Cum for me, Baby.”

That was all you needed to hear before you were barreling over the edge, your legs relying entirely on the strength of Leah’s upper body to keep you balanced. Your moans exemplified the stimulation of your orgasm riding out, and Leah’s endeavours to lick the result of it up as it poured into her mouth and onto your thighs.

The woman made sure you had somewhat caught your breath before she moved, having a moment to catch her own breath and comprehend what just happened. When she knew you were able to stand independently, she moved over to her cubby, grabbing the baby wipes she always had handy, moving back down to her knees to clean the mess across your legs as you covered your chest back with your jersey, and later your shorts.

Leah moved to do the same, except she watched as you fumbled with what to do. She gave you a pointed look as if to question your thinking, and you simply sighed and waddled over to her, slight humiliation at your wobbly legs painting your cheeks as you grabbed your bag.

“You all good, Baby?” She asked, her voice no longer authoritative and rather empathetic.

“Yeah, thanks.” You nodded. “Erm… sorry for being… rude… actually I'm not sorry but I am.”

“Yeah, same,” Leah replied a cheeky grin settled on her complexion. “I think we can settle for friendly rivalry from now on.”

“If that's what you call this, then sure.” You added, laughing along with what to make of the situation, feeling more out of place than ever in the middle of the Arsenal room. “I better go.”

“I’ll drive you home.”

“Lee, I've got my license—”

“It wasn't a question, Chelsea.”

You stood there defeated, knowing internally that you had no way home after Millie had driven you to the stadium and would have left by now anyway. Leah must’ve known that by the way she wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her chest.

“Besides, wouldn't want that Player of The Match Trophy getting forgotten now, would we?”

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A/N — bad ending but oh well… HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝙾𝙷 𝙵𝚄𝙲𝙺

description: lauren is fine, she is completely fine. she is definitely not dating sam kerr's younger sister. and sam kerr definitely hasn't just walked into y/n's flat with her spare key. lauren is completely fine

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lauren james x kerr!reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction remember that and have fun ;)

warnings: idk where to begin, smutttt - cunnilingus, thigh riding, fingering, slight breath play, choking, marking, fluff, swearing, cute sisterly relationships

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SMUT

MINORS DNI

18+ (At start and at end.)

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y/n's head span as she gasped, hand reaching down to clasp with Lauren's as the woman grunted into her, tongue darting in and out of y/n, nose brushing her clit as she spasmed.

"Ah, Lauren. Close." y/n gasped, hand gripping Lauren's tighter as her breathing sped up, back arching as Lauren's tongue did nothing to slow down.

Lauren moved her head, pushing her nose harsher against y/n's clit which caused a moan to escape her lips as she tensed, her stomach spasming.

"Come on." Lauren said gruffly, her tongue going back to work as y/n finally came, a cry of relief leaving from her lips as she does so.

Lauren's tongue does not completely leave y/n, instead using lazy strokes to calm the girl down from her orgasm, only once Lauren felt as if she had tasted her girlfriend enough did she come up for air.

Lauren pushed upwards, arms flexing as she came to lie next to y/n once again, leaning down to press a long kiss to her lips, her tongue sweeping through y/n's mouth.

"Taste yourself." Lauren all but grunted into her mouth. "Taste what I did to you." She continued, y/n's eyes rolled into the back of her head at the words.

The two pulled away, a lazy grin on Lauren's face at the red cheeks of y/n as she pecks her lips once more, smirking at how flustered the Australian was.

"Hmm, that's a way to wake up in the morning." y/n smiles, leaning into Lauren's shoulder who smiles and wraps an arm around her girlfriend.

"Wake you up like that anytime." Lauren shrugs and y/n grins liking the sound of it.

Just as Lauren goes to say something there is the sound of the front door opening and the two tense, both knowing that other than Lauren only one other person had a key.

"Squirt?" Sam calls out and the two spring into action.

"One sec Sammy!" y/n calls, Lauren rushing and grabbing her clothes, throwing y/n her own.

"Oh fuck." Lauren whispers.

"Oh fuck." y/n agrees quietly.

Sam Kerr, Australia's sweetheart, best striker in potentially the WSL and a ground-breaking personality in the world of Women's Football and sport as a whole.

Sam Kerr. Also known as Lauren and y/n's team-mate, mentor and y/n's older sister.

Lauren sent y/n a wide eyed look, both of them as worried and panicked at the other as Lauren slid into y/n's ensuite, y/n tugging on her joggers as she darted out of her room and shuts the door.

"Sammy!" y/n grins racing at her sister who hugs her. "What are you doing here?" y/n asks and Sam shrugs.

"Thought we could go get some breakfast." Sam says and y/n nods, knowing they had late training today.

"Of course, let me just shower." y/n smiles and Sam pauses, knowing her sister was a natural early riser.

"You slept in?" Sam asks.

"Yeah, late night, stayed up binging doctor who." y/n lies easily and Sam chuckles, rolling her eyes.

"You and that fucking show." Sam snorts and y/n lets out a small fake laugh as she moves back toward her bedroom.

y/n enters and Lauren is lent against the wall, scrolling through Instagram as y/n grabs her and drags her into the bathroom. Lauren smirks slightly as she quickly strips herself of her joggers.

y/n finally rids herself of her clothes, quickly ridding Lauren of her own as she drags her into the shower and turns it on, looking toward the bathroom door which she quickly makes sure is locked.

With the shower on and making noise y/n finally feels safe enough to let out a relieved breath as she knows Sam will have turned her X-box on to play a few FIFA games knowing her younger sister took ages to shower.

"Careful baby, your sister is in the other room." Lauren smirks teasingly and y/n glares at her.

"You ain't getting shit James." y/n warns as she washes herself clean.

"Are you sure?" Lauren asks lowly, hand squeezing at y/n's waist as she slides it down, her dull nails scraping at her hip. y/n lets out a stuttered gasp, the Australian naturally tipping her head back onto Lauren's broad shoulder.

Lauren can't help but let out a small chuckle at the power she knew she held over y/n, leaning down to press a series of light kisses down y/n's painfully unmarked neck.

Lauren's teeth pull at the skin under y/n's collarbone, both of her hands gripping at y/n's hips now, tilting her pelvis back into her as she grids lightly against her.

"Lauren." y/n warns breathily.

"What baby?" Lauren asks, grateful she had kept her braids in as she was now stood under the stream of water which would have been a pain to dry her hair from.

"Squirt?" Sam asks, the door handle coming down but the lock doing its job and stopping her entering.

"Just coming!" y/n calls quickly as she turns off the shower and steps out.

The girl wraps her hair in a towel, glaring at Lauren who was stood smugly against the shower door, eyes raking down y/n's dripping thighs which were scattered with marks.

"Since when do you lock the bathroom door?" Sam asks from the other side.

"Must have done it on reflex." y/n calls out. Not bothering too look in the mirror as she quickly moisturises her face. "I'll text you when we're gone." y/n whispers to Lauren, before pressing a peck to the woman's lips.

y/n then quickly slides from the bathroom and into her room, turning off the light as she wraps her towel around her. She could hear the FIFA game coming from the living room and rolls her eyes as she changes quickly.

y/n tugs on a top, pulling her jacket over the top of it and then grabs her bag and phone, cursing herself at the text Sam had sent her an hour ago warning her she was going to appear.

y/n then leaves her bedroom, smiling at Sam as she pulls her socks and then trainers on. Sam finishes her game and switches the TV off as y/n snorts.

"You only come here to use my games." y/n teases as Sam grabs her car keys.

"Shut up." Sam snorts as they get to the front door. y/n looks down, eyes widening at Lauren's trainers which were on the rack and she positions herself in front of them, hoping Sam hasn't noticed.

y/n follows her sister out, locking the door knowing full well Lauren would use her key once she left for training. y/n hops into Sam's car and her heart finally slows down as they pull away from her home.

y/n switches on her phone, instantly connecting to Sam's car and blaring some music out which makes Sam groan mockingly, y/n rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out.

"Shut up." y/n snorts.

"No you." Sam counters.

"No you." y/n says back and Sam rolls her eyes.

"Annoying dickhead." Sam says and y/n chuckles as they pull up to their usual breakfast place. y/n sends a quick text to Lauren.

to lauren <3: All clear xx

from lauren: I'll see you at training x

y/n doesn't reply, knowing if she does Sam will get suspicious on who she is talking too, so she shuts her phone and follows Sam out of the car and into the cafe.

"Isn't that LJ's top?" Sam asks as y/n takes her jacket off. If y/n's heart had stopped, she wouldn't have been shocked, because that is what it felt like.

"Oh yeah, I borrowed it a few weeks ago and she said I could keep it." y/n shrugs easily and Sam's eyebrows furrow.

"I could have sworn I saw her in it the other day." She says before shrugging and looking at the menu.

"I don't know why you bother looking. You always get the same thing." y/n teases, trying to get the topic to move on.

"Shut it squirt." Sam snorts before proceeding to order the same thing with their usual waitress.

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y/n just posted on her story x2

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y/n turned up at training a lot calmer than she had been that morning. Throughout her breakfast with Sam panic was flooding her and guilt was creeping into her heart.

What she and Lauren had started was good, great even for them both, Lauren was calmer, y/n was happier, and no one knew that it was the other making them so.

But y/n and her sister had always been close, y/n had always wanted to be like Sam and while the midfielder had slightly taken a different football route, she had ended in the same place, repping Chelsea blue.

Lauren and y/n were still relatively new, only 4 almost 5 months in to being official having started seeing each other just before the beginning of the World Cup.

No one on social media suspected anything, none of their teammates seemed to notice, so they had just kept quiet when they returned and continued falling in love.

And y/n was sure that was what was happening. The 21-year-old was sure she was falling in love, if not in love with Lauren. She had never felt so seen, so understood by someone.

With Lauren she wasn't Sam Kerr's sister, she wasn't the future of Australia. She was just y/n, and it made her feel so special being looked at by Lauren.

The woman could tell if she was angry, upset, happy or nervous with a single glance, and she could calm it with nothing but a look, a glancing touch.

y/n had never been powerless, she was filled with attitude and delight, but she had never fell apart for someone as easily as she had for Lauren, she had never let anyone see her or understand her the way Lauren always had.

Training had started well, the sister duo pairing up for the pre-match games and then the group of players sunk into their usual before lunch match.

y/n was running down the wing, looking toward Erin who was trailing with her, Lauren tracked back, following her girlfriend as she tried to tackle, y/n turned, dragging the ball with her.

But Lauren knew her, knew her tricks and instead of sliding past bounced off her toes and followed left which made y/n sigh. She passed out to Erin, Lauren sending her a smirk.

y/n followed Erin down, trying to get past Lauren who manages to intercept Erin's cross out for a corner. The two teams lined up as Emma called out a warning saying this would be the last kick of the game.

y/n stood strong, her sister grinning at her due to the fact her team was currently 1 goal above Erin's and went to mark her sister, however Lauren had already covered her, easily slotting behind her girlfriend.

Sam furrows her brows for a second but then shrugs and goes to mark Johanna instead. Lauren's hand brushes y/n's back and the woman pushes her elbow back, rolling her shoulders as she watches the ball fly in.

y/n races forward, Lauren right behind her as she jumps and her head fires the ball into the corner. y/n slowly comes down, the bodies around her pushing her off balance.

Lauren quickly wraps her arms around her y/n, stabling her as she comes down by pulling y/n tight to her chest as y/n's feet finally settle on the floor.

y/n sighs out in relief, relaxing back into Lauren's chest in relief as she rests her head onto Lauren's shoulder, the two looking so natural that Millie does a double take.

"Nice catch LJ!" Emma calls out as lunch is called.

"She was a fairy." Millie teases, y/n laugh as she grins at Lauren in thanks who squeezes her waist briefly before y/n runs at Millie, jumping onto her back.

"y/n!" Emma calls waving the girl over.

"Oooh someone's in trouble." Millie teases as she drops y/n next to Emma.

"Shove off Bright." y/n laughs pushing her captain away who gasps mockingly.

"I'll have you benched for that!" Millie gasps dramatically.

"No you bloody won't." Emma warns her, before everyone trudges away and y/n follows Emma to her office where the woman sits her down. "I'll let you go to lunch in a second." Emma promises.

"It's okay." y/n promises her manager who sits on the edge of her desk.

"I just wanted to ask." Emma begins, handing y/n a water bottle she had picked up. "Does Sam know?" She asks as y/n takes a sip, instantly choking on the water in shock.

"Holy shit." y/n gasps out, swallowing her mouthful of water. "Know what?" y/n asks as Emma sends her a dry look.

"That there is something clearly going on between you and Lauren." Emma says and y/n sighs.

"Is it that obvious?" y/n asks.

"I'll take that as a no." Emma sighs. "But it isn't obvious, I just know you both too well." Emma explains and y/n sighs.

"I swear boss, I'll tell her, it won't be a big deal." y/n promises Emma who sighs and runs a hand over her face.

"If that was true, you would have done so already." Emma warns her.

y/n shoulders sink. If she was honest, she had no clue how Sam would react, she could be happy, she could be mad, she could be shocked, hurt the list was endless.

"Why haven't you told anyone?" Emma can't help but ask and y/n sighs, knowing full well someone did know.

"Technically, Lucy Bronze knows." y/n says and Emma hums, knowing y/n and Lucy were close as y/n had played at Lyon for a season and a half before making her jump to Chelsea last year.

y/n had stayed with Lucy during that time, having been taken under the defender's wing who really helped her in the time away from her older sister.

"World cup?" Emma guesses and y/n nods.

"We had kind of began just before and continued during the world cup. Lucy walked into Lauren's room one night when we actually near the same place." y/n explains.

"And the reason?" She asks.

"I see how the media just tears everyone apart. Relationships, confidence, I mean I missed that shot a few weeks back and I just got annihilated for it." y/n continues.

"But you cannot let that get to you." Emma tries and y/n sighs.

"I know, but it does Emma." y/n says angrily. "And I just know, the second anything comes out about Lauren and I..." y/n sighs trailing off.

"You have to tell the team." Emma states and y/n throws her arms up in annoyance.

"Why?" She asks.

"Because I will not risk the chemistry I have created. You can't do it, I'll bench you." Emma warns.

"Emma!" y/n calls but the woman folds her arms. "I'm scared." y/n then sighs, folding her head in your hands.

"The girl who played for Australia at 16, scored the winning goal for the champions league at 17, is scared?" Emma asks and y/n nods.

"Terrified. All the time." y/n sighs and Emma's face drops her cold mask.

"Oh kid." Emma sighs and y/n looks up at her, heart in her throat. "Do you need to talk to someone?" She asks and y/n sighs.

"I don't know." y/n admits and Emma then sighs again.

"You've got until Friday to talk to Sam. We'll forget about the rest for now, eh?" She asks y/n who nods, trying to swallow the butterflies climbing her throat.

"Okay." y/n nods. Emma claps her on the shoulder and nods to the door and y/n nods. "Cheers boss." y/n says, and they both know it was meant deeper than just one way.

"Go get some lunch." Emma orders and y/n nods, walking into the lunch room where Sam already had a plate for her, just deepening the bite of guilt.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n just posted on her story x3

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n sat with Lauren, the two comfortably pressed together on y/n's sofa as they watched Match of the Day, both fed and showered after their day of training before the Brighton game tomorrow.

y/n had been quiet, Lauren had noticed it, her eyes were glazed over, as if she wasn't really in the moment and so Lauren pressed a kiss to her head.

"What's wrong?" Lauren asked softly.

"Emma knows." y/n says simply, her voice void of emotion as she expected Lauren to yell, to freak out.

"Okay." Lauren says calmly and y/n pauses, her stomach knotting in shock.

"What?" She asks.

"Okay." Lauren repeats calmly. "What do you want to do?" She then asks.

"We need to tell Sam." y/n says, again expecting Lauren to end it, but her grip just tightens.

"It is probably about time." Lauren agrees calmly and y/n sits up and turns to look at her.

"You're not mad? You're not going to yell? Leave?" y/n asks, her voice quiet and shocked. Lauren smiles softly, pecking y/n's nose as she sits up also, bringing the girl onto her lap.

"No baby. I'm not going to leave." Lauren promises and y/n moves her legs so she was straddling Lauren's lap.

"Why?" She asks softly and Lauren sighs.

"We've been together since May in my brain, and even if not, we made it official in September. It's now January, I think that's enough time." Lauren states and y/n smiles softly.

"Okay." y/n says with a breath of happiness.

Lauren chuckles and her hands cup y/n's jaw, bringing her in for a deep kiss which makes y/n's head spin as their lips collide, tongues infecting each other's mouths.

"I think you should speak to someone." Lauren says as they pull away. "About your anxiety, your overthinking." Lauren continues and y/n sighs.

"I know." She says softly and Lauren nods before diving back in for another kiss, ever since their first one she had found the little Australian completely addictive.

Lauren's hands chased y/n's body, running down her back, up her thighs, squeezing her waist before eventually stopping at her arse, squeezing at the skin and pushing her closer.

y/n gasped as Lauren's lips traced a pattern down her neck, the woman quickly throwing y/n's top over her heard and somewhere onto the sofa.

Lauren took y/n's nipple into her mouth, sucking harshly as y/n's back arched and Lauren's name fell from her lips in a breathy plead to continue the pleasure.

Lauren continued her actions, switching to the other breast, leaving the first nipple, red hard and painfully sucked as y/n slowly started to grind against Lauren.

The woman moved y/n to straddle her thigh so the pressure was more pleasing for the Australian and bit at y/n's nipple when she moaned at the move.

"Turn around and take these off." Lauren ordered quickly, snapping the waistband of y/n's joggers.

The woman nodded and jumped up, stripping quickly, leaving her underwear on as she lowers back onto Lauren's thigh backwards.

Lauren's hands landed on her hips, pushing y/n into a grind, at the feel y/n moaned and fell forward, hands landing on Lauren's knee to stabilise herself and she continued to ride Lauren's thigh.

Lauren stretched back, hands coming to rest behind her head as she stared at y/n's ass, thong pulling over her thigh as the wetness of y/n's arousal spilled through it.

"That's it, chase it baby." Lauren ordered lowly, hand coming to squeeze at y/n's cheek as her moans became breathier, desperately trying to push herself over that edge.

"Lauren, please." y/n begged, her whine making Lauren chuckle.

The woman pulled y/n back to her chest, one hand coming to squeeze her throat and keep her against her chest as the other held her waist stopping her grinding.

"Can't even cum without me anymore, huh?" Lauren asks, y/n whining in response. "What do you want baby? Huh?" Lauren asks.

y/n can't answer, too wound up and Lauren's hand slides from her waist and dips underneath the band of her underwear, fingers sliding through her slick folds.

"Need me here?" Lauren asks smugly when y/n jolts.

Suddenly Lauren's fingers rub at y/n's clit quickly, pushing the woman over an unexpected orgasm which Lauren continues rubbing her through it.

Only when y/n is writhing in her hold, begging for a moment does Lauren give y/n a break, her fingers sliding up her toned stomach and pushing her slick past her lips and into y/n's mouth.

Lauren abruptly stands up, y/n letting out a shocked shout as Lauren carried her to the bedroom and throws her against the bed, the girl bouncing.

"Weeee." y/n says and Lauren chuckles as she strips and slides the strap on, making sure it was harnessed properly before kneeling on the bed.

y/n leans up, pressing a kiss to Lauren's cheek before she spins them, pushing Lauren to sit against the headboard.

"Wanna ride you." y/n mutters, Lauren nodding her head dumbly as she watched y/n slowly lower herself onto the cock.

Lauren groaned out in relief, y/n's hands resting against the harness to make the pull on Lauren's clit feel better as she slowly pushed herself up and back down.

Lauren hands grabbed at her waist, pulling her closer and connected their mouths in a heated and deep kiss, moans tangling as y/n continued to push herself up and down on the cock.

As the knot built in y/n's stomach once more, she rocked while feeling full of Lauren's cock, the rocking pushing Lauren to the edge and her hand came to slap at y/n's ass.

The two gasped, cumming together as their mouths continued blending their noises together while they slowly came down, eventually parting as the room filled with slow pants and deep breaths.

y/n slowly sat off the cock, gasping slightly at the feel of her walls clenching around nothing as she laid back next to Lauren who un-clipped the harness from herself.

y/n couldn't help but smile into Lauren's bare shoulder as the two stayed tangled together in a mess of sweaty sheets. Lauren's lips were against her forehead as they caught their breath.

"I think I'm in love with you." y/n says softly and Lauren chuckles.

"I think I'm in love with you too." Lauren promises her and y/n hums.

"Oh." She says, not really expecting to hear it back. "That's good." y/n says softly. "That is really good." y/n repeats and Lauren chuckles.

"Yeah baby. It is." Lauren promises and they both smile into each other's skin.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

END of part one

[meazalykov]

platonic?

catarina macario x younger!uswnt!reader

summary: your admiration for the older woman turns into a crush

warnings: three year age gap, long chapter

you are twenty-two lacing up for the next game with chelsea, the weight of the blue jersey settling around you like armor.  

this wasn’t new; you’d been doing this since seventeen, since you were a kid at the world cup, barely knowing how to handle all the pressure the world threw at you while winning one of the best trophies a footballer can have. 

somehow, you’d found yourself. at the end of 2019 you went on loan to lyon from gotham, ready to prove your talent to the best audience. 

you weren’t exactly alone though—there was catarina.

being eighteen when you first met catarina, fresh-faced and wide-eyed, you stepped into the lyon training grounds with the kind of awe you couldn’t hide. 

you were on loan, adjusting to life in a new country with a language you barely spoke, and everything felt monumental, as if even the smallest mistakes would echo. 

catarina, twenty-one, was already established and calm, someone who seemed to carry the weight of experience with ease– especially for someone who was young herself. 

she spotted you from across the pitch during your first training session, a quick flash of recognition in her smile as she walked over, her strides confident and sure. 

“hey!!! you’re from new york, right?” she asked, her tone light but curious, that american accent instantly grounding.

“yeah,” you replied, trying not to seem too overwhelmed.

“just... here for a season, you know?”

she grinned. 

“good. i was starting to miss american familiarity here.”

from that moment, a kind of natural mentorship developed between you. 

the three-year difference felt both small and huge; it wasn’t just the age, but the way she carried herself, the calm authority of someone who’d already figured a few things out. in frace, you could go with her anywhere. in america, she was allowed to attend the 21+ places while you had to stay behind with the young national teammates in the hotel rooms. 

little did you know, catarina knew what it was like to leave home for a career, to adapt, and maybe she saw a bit of herself in you, struggling to find your place.

you noticed the steady way she’d watch you on the field, the way she’d wait until after training to approach, giving pointers with a casual tone that softened the critique. 

“you’re trying to force the pass too soon. the forward could never get it without the defender clearing it away,” she’d say once, tossing you the ball after practice as you wiped the sweat off of your forehead with the blue lyon training kit. 

“take a breath, let the play build.”

she’d take the time to show you, positioning you on the field, demonstrating how to look for space, to feel the tempo of the game like it was a second pulse. 

“you’ve got great instincts and speed,” she’d say after you’d gotten it right, her voice warm with approval. 

“just trust them a bit more.”

it wasn’t only on the field that she guided you. early on, when you stumbled over french phrases at cafes or struggled with the simplest exchanges, she’d be there, patient and amused. 

the woman with brazilian ethnicity already knew a few languages. you didn’t, only growing up needing to speak english with very basic levels of spanish. 

sitting in a café with catarina, selma, and amandine–you squinted down at the menu, wrestling with a word that looked more intimidating than it probably was. 

“i can never get this one,” you muttered, half to yourself, as she leaned over your shoulder with a quiet smile.

“that one’s croque-monsieur,” she said, saying it slowly. 

“it’s like fancy– what do you guys call it, grilled cheese?” selma grinned with her strong french accent as you looked at catarina with suspicion. 

“she's right. you’ll like it, trust us.”

“croque-mon-seur?” you tried. all of the girls laughed while catarina started shaking her head. 

“you’ll get it,” she said, giving you a light nudge. 

as weeks turned into months, her presence became something you leaned on without realizing. she’d taken on this mentor role easily, with the kind of warmth that let you feel less alone in a new place. 

she taught you bits of french, not only in words but in the quiet encouragement she offered, like the language itself was something you could share.

on the field, you started to shadow her during drills, watching how she played as an attacking mid—the same position as you. you found yourself asking questions, hungry to learn more even with skill abnormal for a youngster.

cata always answered with that patient tone, never making you feel as though you were asking too much.

during national breaks, there's always a different energy. a familiar choas you’ve come to love since being called up in the 2019 world cup. 

being back with the uswnt squad feels like stepping visiting old friends– because you are. catarina is steady, and calm. on the national team though, you’re usually the one starting over her, especially as the attacking mid, unlike at lyon due to the amount of caps you have over the woman that's older than you. 

she never lets any jealousy slip, always the first to give a pat on the back or a quiet word of praise that lingers more than it probably should.

the locker room screams with excitement before the friendly against portugal, and you’re tying up your signature purple boots, mentally running through the plays. 

suddenly, cat is sitting beside you, her familiar grin softening the tension that’s been settling in your shoulders. maybe its her hands resting your shoulders too.

“you look ready to score a hat trick today,” she murmurs, nudging your shoulder. 

“don’t push it,” you laugh. 

“starting lineup, a vet on the team. you notice how much the coaches and the staff trust you, huh?”

you manage a smile, a bit of heat creeping to your face. 

“they’re trusting me to just... you know, not mess it up too bad.”

she scoffs lightly, her hand moving down to rest on your arm. 

“y/n, you’re seriously too humble,” she says, voice low and just between the two of you. 

“i’ve watched you since i met you in lyon. you have this... confidence, even when you don’t realize it. you don’t just belong here; you are the standard. do you know how insane that is being nineteen years old,” the twenty-two year old rants.

your face feels hot, and you look down, hoping she doesn’t notice the slight blush you can feel creeping up. 

“yeah, well, it’s just pre-game stuff, you know? everyone gets this way.”

she tilts her head, a small smile playing at her lips. 

“sure, if ‘pre-game stuff’ means having every player watching you just to see how it’s done or what to do next.” she moves closer, her voice dropping even lower. 

“you’re more than good, y/n. i’d watch you play any day.”

the words linger, carrying a weight you don’t want to examine too closely. she’s always been supportive, always the first to praise you, but somehow her words feel different today, more intense, and it settles in your chest, creating a strange, fluttering warmth you refuse to acknowledge.

“thanks, cat,” you mumble, fiddling with your shin guard. 

“i just... i appreciate it. and you know, don’t be too complimentary. i still have to actually do my job out there.”

she laughs, soft and genuine, her hand squeezing your arm before pulling away. 

“oh, don’t worry. i’ll be out there to keep you in check if your ego gets too big.”

just as you try to shake off the blush spreading across your cheeks, she leans in, her eyes catching yours in a way that makes it impossible to look away. “but, y/n,” she murmurs, her voice softer, almost affectionate, “don’t hold back out there.” 

you swallow, heart thudding harder than usual. 

“i… yeah. yeah, no holding back.”

she smirks, giving you one last, lingering glance before she walks away, leaving you trying to convince yourself that your racing pulse is just the pre-game jitters.

skipping two months later– you were so happy winning the champions league with lyon. you felt as if you were standing at the peak of everything you’d worked toward.

the final whistle echoed in your ears, your teammates’ arms wrapped around you in victory since you delivered a goal and two assists for the 4-2 win.

right there beside you was catarina, her face alight with that mix of joy and pride that only winning a title brings. the two of you had spent a year pushing each other to new limits, and this—this win felt like the culmination of everything. 

the celebration was wild, electric, stretching late into the night, but a bittersweet feeling hung in the back of your mind. 

you knew what came next: you’d have to return to new york, back to gotham.

a week back in new york, trying to settle back into familiar routines, you still found yourself thinking about lyon, about that feeling of playing on european soil, where the game felt more appreciated. 

the stakes somehow higher. you missed the thrill, the challenge, and most of all, you missed catarina’s presence on the field, her constant encouragement, her quiet, steady influence.

and then the call came from chelsea.

it was unexpected, a five-year contract offered by the london club, and the details? promising—more than you’d hoped for. it was an opportunity to stay in europe, to grow in a league you’d admired from afar, and in that instant, the decision felt like a piece of fate falling into place. 

chelsea felt right, like the next step, and the choice was almost immediate. within days, you found yourself preparing for a new chapter in london.

it’s 2022, and as you settle into your new life in london, there’s a sense of excitement that only grows with each passing day. the new team, the city, the endless possibilities—it feels fresh, like you’re on the edge of something big. 

yet, in quiet moments, you feel a pang of nostalgia for your year in lyon, for the late-night talks with catarina after long training days, the ease of sharing the same field, the bond you’d built. 

at chelsea, you built a good bond with all of your teammates. you’ve gotten to be close friends with lauren while having magda as your mentor. 

you missed catarina though, you had no idea why. she’d been more than just a teammate—she’d been a friend, a mentor, and you knew that her absence at the club level would be felt deeply.

you remind yourself that national breaks aren’t far off. you’ll see her again soon enough, the familiar red, white, and blue kit would be uniting you once more.

at chelsea, your time quickly became more than just playing football; it felt like finding a new family. 

magdalena, with her calm authority and easy smile, became an older sister figure, a presence you leaned on during tough games or even just long training sessions. pernille was right there beside her, offering a comforting mix of humor and insight that kept you grounded. 

together, they were like this solid, reassuring pair, and they had a way of making you feel like you belonged.

emma, your coach, saw something in you which is why she wanted you at the club per her request. she pushes you forward and shapes you into a player who could meet the intensity of the league.

 

her guidance, paired with the steady support of magda and pernille, along with your now bestfriend lauren, helped you grow both on and off the field.

at the end of the 22/23 season, magda and pernille gathered you aside after a practice session, their expressions a bit more serious than usual. magda was the first to speak.

“we wanted you to hear it from us,” she started, giving your arm a light squeeze. 

“pernille and i are… we’re leaving chelsea.”

you blinked, trying to process. 

“wait, leaving? like… transferring?”

pernille nodded, her smile soft but sad. 

“to bayern. it’s… it’s a chance for us to play together in germany, and we felt like this was the right time.”

you felt a pang in your chest, sadness bubbling up because you couldn’t imagine chelsea without them. but you couldn’t hold back a smile either, one that came from genuine happiness for them. 

“i’m gonna miss you both,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, 

“but i’m so happy you’re doing this together.”

magda pulled you into a hug, her arms warm and steady around you. 

“you’ll always have us, no matter where we go.”

you laughed, hugging them both tightly. 

“and i expect updates… lots of them.”

it wasn’t long after they left when lauren walked up to you one morning in the lounge, an unusual grin on her face.

as you were twirling your iced coffee together, making sure the creamer mixed well with the blonde coffee, lauren stops your wrist with a smirk. 

“heard the news?” lauren asked, a twinkle in her eye.

“what news?” you replied, eyebrows raised as you sit the paper cup down on the counter.

“your friend catarina is coming to chelsea. emma signed her on for a few seasons.”

you laughed, shaking your head. 

“yeah, right, lauren.”

lauren can be a jokster sometimes. however, she crossed her arms, looking far too pleased with herself. 

“seriously. emma wanted her on the team, and cat’s contract with lyon was up. she’ll be here to visit us at training soon.”

the idea sounded impossible, almost surreal. cat, here? with you, at chelsea?

it wasn’t until you saw her stepping onto the training field, a black crossbody bag slung over her shoulder, that it hit you. you froze, hardly believing your eyes until she spotted you, her familiar smile breaking across her face. 

before you knew it, you were running toward her, your feet barely touching the ground as you threw yourself into her arms.

“cat!” you exclaimed, nearly breathless.

she laughed, pulling you into a tight hug. 

“hey! god, it’s good to see you.”

pulling back, making sure to consider her knee injury, you couldn’t help but grin, words spilling out all at once. 

“i can’t believe you’re here! lauren told me, but i thought she was messing with me.”

cat shook her head, her own smile warm and genuine as she holds your waist. 

“nope, it’s real. looks like we’re back on the same team.”

just as you opened your mouth to ask about training together, her expression shifted, a slight grimace.

“i know, but with my knee its going to be a while.”  she hesitated, glancing down at her knee. 

“its alright, you’ll come back stronger!” you smile, your dimples showing as you show catarina around the place before you had to go to training practice. 

six months later– it’s 2024. catarina’s first day to light training feels like an event, with the entire team gathered in the gym to show support for her coming back from an acl injury. 

everyone’s happy, cheering her on as she settles in for her workout. you stand close by, eyes fixed on her as she picks up the barbell, your attention unwavering. this is a huge step for cat, and you want to be there for her.

as cat positions herself to start her barbell step-ups, sjoeke moves in, hands up, ready to help spot her. 

“i got you, cat,” she says with a smile, stepping up beside her.

before you realize it, you’re already speaking, your voice coming out firm, almost a little too quick as you step behind cat beside sjoeke. 

“no, it’s fine, sjo. i’ll help her.” 

sjoeke pauses, raising an eyebrow at your tone, her smile shifting into something almost skeptical. she looks between you and cat, the air thick with a subtle tension. 

“really?” she asks, voice edged with a hint of challenge. 

“because i can spot her, y/n.”

“i don’t mind,” you insist, feeling the warmth creep up your neck, realizing how eager you sound. 

“i can handle it.”

there’s a beat of silence, the weight of your words hanging in the air, and sjoeke’s expression softens, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. her eyes narrow slightly, an amused glint in her gaze as she takes in your stance, the way your attention doesn’t waver from cat. 

she puts her hands up, taking a step back with a knowing look. 

“alright, y/n. she’s all yours.”

the team’s eyes are on you as you step into place beside catarina, your focus sharpening as you move in to spot her. cat glances up, smiling at you. 

“thanks,” she says softly, her eyes warm, trusting.

“anytime,” you murmur, feeling the faintest flicker of nerves as you help steady her. your hands hover near her shoulders, close enough to catch her if needed, your gaze lingering on her face longer than you intended. 

she doesn’t seem to notice, focused on her workout, but you can’t help the way your eyes trace the line of her jaw, the curve of her shoulders, the way her breath deepens with each step up. 

there’s an intimacy in the moment that feels almost palpable, and you struggle to tear your gaze away, as if caught in something you’re not ready to admit to.

from the wall, lauren’s leaning back, watching with a bemused smile as you stay glued to cat’s side, every bit the protective spotter. 

when she catches the way you look at cat, something just a bit too intense, she comes over to you after you finish helping cat.

“so,” lauren starts, her voice a low murmur, 

“what’s with that look?”

you shoot her a glance, brushing it off. 

“what look?”

she raises an eyebrow, grinning. 

“you’re looking at her like she’s a piece of cheesecake or some shit?”

“i don’t know,” you mutter, shrugging, trying to keep your tone casual, but lauren isn’t buying it.

“right, you just happened to nearly elbow sjoeke out of the way to help her.” she nudges you, clearly entertained as you walk out of the gym area with lauren following. 

“i didn’t know you were so... possessive.”

“i’m just helping a teammate, lauren,” you say, a bit more defensively than you meant.

she laughs, exchanging a look with katie, who’s been watching with a raised eyebrow. 

“teammate, huh? well, looks like you’re a really supportive one. maybe you could give me a back massage,”

“gross,” you laugh while rolling your eyes playfully. 

you make your way to the lounge, hoping to avoid further questions. as you step in, ashley, mille, and zecira are all sitting together, looking up as lauren walks in behind you, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“guys, guess what i just saw,” lauren announces, voice full of laughter. 

“y/n practically staking a claim on catarina during training.”

you feel the heat rising to your face, reaching for a protein bar to keep your hands busy. 

“lauren, do you ever shut up?” you mutter, trying to play it off, but the room erupts in laughter.

ashley shakes her head, grinning wide. 

“i fucking knew it! i knew you had a little thing for cat.”

“please,” you scoff, rolling your eyes as you open the protein bar. 

“you all have overactive imaginations.”

just as you think you might have a chance to let it blow over… sam, who sits on the couch beside mille, finishes her call with her fiance kristie, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. 

“so, y/n,” she starts, her grin just as playful, 

“you gonna do something about this little crush, or what?”

you sigh, taking a bite of the protein bar. 

“what crush?”

everyone around you laughs, clearly not fooled, and as much as you try to deny it, you can’t shake the way your heart jumps whenever you’re around cat.

march 2024 arrives and it feels like the start of something new and familiar all at once. it’s game day against leicester city, but there’s an extra pulse of excitement coursing through the chelsea locker room as everyone pulls on their light blue kits. 

for you, this game holds a different kind of significance: it’s the first time you’ll be sharing the pitch with catarina since your days at lyon, and though she won’t be starting, just knowing she’s there—back from the injury that’s kept her away from the game she loves—adds a layer of warmth to everything.

you catch her watching you from across the locker room, her gaze dropping from your eyes to linger as you adjust your shirt and tug on your socks. it’s almost enough to make your breath hitch, and it doesn’t help that the kit has a snug fit, a sleek light blue that seems to catch her attention. 

her eyes trail up slowly, as if she’s memorizing every detail, and when her gaze meets yours, she looks away with a small, shy smile. 

erin, sitting beside her, sees it all and nudges cat in the shoulder with a smirk that says she’s absolutely onto her.

the pre-game energy is high as you head out onto the field, and while you’d usually be in the midfield, today you’re positioned as left-back. the shift feels strange, like wearing a jacket that’s just slightly too big. you tell yourself to adjust, to focus on the rhythm of the game and do your part.

as the whistle blows and the play begins, you find yourself absorbed in the moment, thoughts of cat lingering but pushed to the back as you settle into the role.

in the 38th minute, an opportunity opens. bjorn is making a move toward the box, slipping past defenders, her eyes focused and ready. you’re aware of the ball at your feet, feeling the familiar weight of it as you move up the wing. scanning the field, you find the angle and send a cross sailing toward bjorn, hoping she’ll connect. 

she times her jump perfectly, meeting the ball with a header that sends it directly into the net. the crowd erupts, a sea of blue cheering as your teammates swarm bjorn in celebration. 

a grin spreads across your face, pride surging as you run back to position, your gaze flicking to the bench where you spot cat clapping, her eyes on you, the corners of her mouth pulled into an admiring smile.

the game presses on, and in the 44th minute, you spot another chance. mayra’s waiting near the edge of the box, finding an opening just wide enough for a clean shot. slipping past the defender, you send the ball right to her feet. 

she doesn’t waste a second, taking the shot and sending it straight into the net with a perfect strike. you jump on her back in celebration, happy to give the second assist for a player that is out of position.

it's 2-0 before halftime, and as you jog back, you’re buzzing with the energy of the lead.

the walk to the locker room is filled with celebratory chatter, but as soon as you settle onto the bench, your mind starts to go over every play. being out of position has you feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way that’s hard to shake. 

you sit there, running through every mistake, every step you might have taken wrong, the weight of your own expectations pressing down on your shoulders.

even with the two assists, you’re surprised that no defensive errors you’ve committed ended up with a conceding goal. 

you’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice cat coming up beside you until her hand lands gently on your shoulder, her voice soft and soothing. 

“hey,” she murmurs, leaning in slightly so only you can hear. 

“you’re doing great out there. seriously, y/n.”

you manage a nod, though your shoulders still feel tense. she must notice, because without a word, she pulls you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you in a way that feels grounding. 

the warmth of her hand on your back, tracing gentle circles, starts to ease the tension, her touch a reminder to breathe.

“you’ve got this,” she whispers, her voice steady and close, almost like a secret between the two of you. 

“you’re holding it down out there, trust me. emma even said that you’re doing great defensively for someone that's mainly an attacker.”

you let yourself lean into her a little more, savoring the reassurance, her breath warm against your temple. it feels grounding, safe, and for a moment, you don’t want to let go. 

there’s something about the way her arms hold you, strong yet gentle, that makes the anxiety ebb away, leaving a warmth that has nothing to do with the game.

just then, sjoeke clears her throat from across the room. 

“gross,” she calls out, a playful grin on her face. 

“get a room, you two.”

you and cat pull back, laughing, though you feel the heat rush to your face as she lets go, her hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer than necessary. 

“thanks, cat,” you say softly, offering her a smile.

“anytime,” she replies, her gaze lingering, warm and full of something you can’t quite name.

you head back out for the second half, but she stays on the bench, still recovering, cheering from the sidelines. knowing she’s there, watching, makes you feel a little lighter, your movements sharper, steadier. 

it’s the 72nd minute, you’re  focused on pushing up the left flank, linking up with your attackers, and keeping your defensive responsibilities in check. your eyes scan the field, watching for openings, and it’s only when you catch lauren jogging toward the sideline and the fourth ref holding up the number board that you realize who’s coming on in her place. 

catarina is stepping onto the pitch, and despite your efforts to keep composed, a bright smile tugs at your lips. this is the first time in so long that you’ll be playing together, and for once, you let yourself admit it, if only silently—you have a crush on her.

you turn your attention back to the field, your heart beating a little quicker, that sense of familiarity and excitement building with each touch of the ball. 

she’s out here with you now, right where you’ve wanted her to be, and knowing she’s nearby is enough to make you feel even more determined.

in the 78th minute, you get the ball near midfield and start driving up, your pace quickening as you swerve around a few defenders. your feet are light, every movement fluid as you weave through their attempts to block you. 

when you reach the edge of the box, you catch sight of cat, her positioning perfect. without a second thought, you use the outside of your foot to send a quick pass in her direction, the ball rolling smoothly toward her.

cat doesn’t hesitate. she meets the ball with a precise kick, sending it past the goalkeeper and straight into the net. 

as the crowd erupts, you can’t help the excitement that surges through you. before you know it, you’re running toward her, a wide grin on your face, arms open as you close the distance.

“cat!” you shout, laughter in your voice as you reach her, wrapping her in a hug. her arms come around you instantly, holding you tight, and for a moment, it feels like the entire stadium fades away, leaving just the two of you in the center of the pitch.

“we did it,” she murmurs, her voice soft, just for you to hear.

“that was all you!” you cheer.

you feel her grip on you tighten, and your heart swells as the rest of the team joins in, everyone piling into the group hug, laughter and cheers filling the air.

the game’s finally  over, and the stadium is cheering with the energy of chelsea’s victory. you’ve got a genuine grin on your face, eyes drawn to cat as she makes her way through a string of congratulatory hugs from the team. 

she’s radiant, practically glowing in the aftermath of the match, and watching her light up like that stirs something deep within you. but, as thrilled as you are for her, there’s a quiet, nagging feeling creeping up in your chest.

a thought crosses your mind—would she ever really want to be with you? maybe you’re too young, too inexperienced for someone like her. what if she doesn’t even like women? the doubts start stacking up in your mind as you watch her laughing with the others, and it’s impossible to shake the feeling of insecurity as it clouds over your happiness, just for a moment.

emma notices your gaze, the way your smile flickers, and sidles up beside you. 

“everything alright?” she asks, her tone casual but her eyes knowing.

you hesitate, then decide to be honest. 

“i just... i don’t know. it’s nothing, really,” you mumble, but emma doesn’t let it go.

“it doesn’t look like nothing,” she says with a small smile, glancing over at cat. 

“you know, it’s pretty obvious on both sides.”

you blink, taken aback. 

“both sides?”

emma nods. 

“cat likes you too. maybe she doesn’t always show it in the ways you expect, but... it’s there. the entire team can see it.”

her words sink in, warm and reassuring, but also nerve-wracking. what does that mean? do you dare to take it seriously?

before you can ask more, emma steps away, and cat is suddenly in front of you again, grinning and pulling you into a tight, warm hug. the embrace is so close, her arms wrapping around you in a way that feels like more than just a friendly gesture. 

you can feel the steadiness of her breathing, the warmth of her body against yours, and a part of you wishes you could stay like this, here in her arms, forever.

neither of you says anything, and in the quiet of the moment, you’re just holding each other, lost in the feeling. around you, you notice a few chelsea fans snapping pictures, murmurs about a possible new couple, but you don’t even care. 

you’re caught up in her warmth, in the closeness, until you finally let go, smiling softly at her.

later, as the team heads off, you invite a few people over to your apartment to relax. most are too tired to celebrate, and honestly, you’re relieved—hosting company sounds exhausting after a long day, and you’re happy enough to have a quiet night to yourself. 

you head home, showering and settling into your soft pajamas, the contentment from the day still making you smile.

you’re about to head to bed when a knock at the door catches your attention. curious, you pad over and look through the peephole, only to see cat standing there, hands in her sweatpant pockets, looking slightly unsure. 

you quickly unlock and open the door, blinking at her in surprise.

“cat, what are you doing here? it’s almost midnight,” you say, though a grin creeps onto your face.

she shrugs, grinning back. 

“you did say you were hosting company, didn’t you?”

you chuckle, stepping aside to let her in. 

“okay, you got me. want something to drink? i’ve got water, maybe some juice…”

she watches you as you head to the kitchen, her eyes flicking over you, taking in your comfortable clothes and how your body fits in them. 

“water’s fine,” she says, though her gaze lingers a little longer, sending a flutter through your stomach.

you hand her the glass, and as she takes it, you notice her eyes lingering again, tracing over your face, down to your lips, then quickly looking away. the subtle glances have your heartbeat picking up, the room suddenly feeling warmer. 

the way she’s looking at you is... different. intense. it’s as if there’s something unspoken between you, simmering beneath the surface.

she catches you watching her and raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. 

“why are you looking at me like that?”

caught off guard, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks, but, with the comfort of your apartment and the courage you feel just from being around her, you answer truthfully. 

“because... you look beautiful,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. the words leave your lips before you even fully realize it, but you don’t regret them.

cat’s eyes widen, her smile softening. she sets down her glass, then takes a step closer, so close that you can feel her warmth radiating. without another word, she reaches for you, pulling you down onto the couch and gently guiding you to sit on her lap. 

you can’t help the small smile that sneaks onto your face as you settle, feeling her hands resting on your hips, grounding you in the moment.

“what are we doing here?” you ask, your voice quiet, curiosity sparking with a mix of nerves and excitement.

cat’s hand brushes a strand of hair away from your face, her thumb tracing lightly against your cheek. “i don’t know... what do you want us to be?” she murmurs, her gaze intense, searching yours for a hint of what you’re feeling.

you swallow, feeling a rush of confidence at her words, the encouragement in her tone. your eyes flick to her lips, and before you can second-guess yourself, you ask, 

“can i kiss you?”

she doesn’t respond with words, just leans forward, her lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. her hand settles on your hip, gentle but possessive, grounding you as you melt into her. 

when you pull back slightly, your heart pounding, you manage a small smile, feeling braver than before.

“will you... will you be my girlfriend?” you whisper, barely able to contain the hope in your voice.

her answering smile is warm and bright, and without a moment’s hesitation, she pulls you back into her embrace, her lips finding yours once more. 

“absolutely.”

masterlist

[buzzinrusso]

Erin cuthburt×reader🙏

I WOULD NEVER //ERIN CUTHBURT

Genre:angst/fluff at the end

Prompt:you and your long term girlfriend, Erin, get into a very heated fight which results to her walking out of your house and you misunderstanding the situation.

--------------------------------------------------

"You don't get it! you never will! " Erin yelled in frustration as she paces around the room looking at a very irritated you.

"Okay! I get that but you are my girlfriend! I can't see you bury yourself with all the training sessions, workouts, photoshoots and more! " your eyes welled up with tears as you spoke. "So you know how embarrassing it is to be stood up by your own girlfriend in front of your family?! "

You're talking about the incident that occurred earlier today.

You and Erin were supposed to meet your parents and siblings for lunch, Erin had 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 you that she would show up, not wanting to stand you up another time.

Obviously that promise was broken, which lead to the heated argument you were currently having.

"How many times do I have to say that I'm sorry! I've apologized a million times already!" She said with her thick accent that came out when she was angry.

"Erin, that wasn't the only time you've stood me up. I'm your girlfriend for God's sake! You can't keep doing shit like this! You broke your promise, you said that you would go but you didn't! And you didn't even text me to say that you're not gonna be coming! I had to sit there like a fool with my family, assuring them that your were probably late! "

"Oh my gosh! So what if I broke my promise? Get fucking over it " she let out a sigh of irritation and started walking away towards your shared room.

"Don't you walk away from me! We are having this conversation now! " you started fully on crying.

You were sick of getting g stood up, you were sick of being embarrassed whenever Erin promised to show up but didn't, but in the end, you love Erin with your entire heart, too much to leave her as you fully believed that you would never have survived your dark days without her.

That's why you panicked when you spotted Erin getting her shows from the closet.

"Are you leaving? " your voice quited down a little

"I cant fucking do this anymore! " she yelled before she stormed out of the house.

Your heart stopped as you watched the scene unfold. Did you just lose the love of your life? Did she just walk out on you? She probably won't be returning.

Your mind immediately went to the worst possible answers. You didn't know what to do as sobs racked through your body, you didn't mean to lose Erin. You really didn't.

In reality you hadn't lost Erin, you just misunderstood the situation, but you didn't know that yet.

Your body involuntarily slipped down the white walls of your shared-not shared?- house.

The thoughts of her moving out, breaking up with you and dating someone else intoxicated your mind. You hated it.

Of course your mind went to those places. Whose mind wouldn't when their significant other yells out that they 'can't do this anymore' after an argument and walks out?

After about 45 minutes of sobbing, Erin finally went back to the house. With flowers in one and and her phone in the other, Erin went into the house only to be greeted by eerie silence.

Only did she hear the sounds of your muffled sobs coming from the bedroom did that silence break.

She quickly sprinted up to your room and when's he opened the door, she was greeted by you lying face down on the bed sobbing your heart out into the tear stained pillow.

She immediately raced to your side, making you flinch at the sudden contact and jolt up from the place where you were lying down.

You sniffles quieted down when you saw her sitting on the edge of the bed with a concerned look on her perfect face.

The sight of her made you calm down slightly.

"Why are you crying? I'm so sorry for making you cry baby, I swear I didn't mean to my love. I'm so so so sorry. " her words were rushed out as she pulled you into a hug that you melted into, but were clearly filled with concern for you. Her eyes proved that.

"I thought you broke up with me. " she barely get out because of your strained voice.

"I would never. I don't think k I'd ever survive if not for you. I'm so sorry I'm made you think that way but I assure you that I will never leave you. Not now nor anytime in the future. " she said as she began to tear up too. She couldn't handle seeing you cry, whenever you cried she did too.

It was the same way that some people had contagious smiles that you had a contagious cry.

"Then why did you say that you couldn't do this anymore and walk out? "

"I meant that I couldn't stay in the house anymore, I'm sorry baby I should've worded better, and as for the walking g put part, I. Needed a break so I walked around the area a little and got you flowers, ready to apologize. " she explained to you and to say that the new revelation was reliving to you would be an understatement.

"I'm sorry baby, I'm should've been more considerate , I should've never stood you up all those times and I'm sorry for every single thing that I did to make you upset. From now on, I swear that I will keep all of my promises and with that, I promise you to never ever purposely let a tear she'd form those pretty eyes of yours. "She then wiped the tears off of your eyes and proceeded to place kisses all over your face, making a slight smile breakout on your face.

And she did. Erin kept her promise in the future.

[yeeterthek33per]

Big ol' storm vs The Amazing Sam (Sam Kerr x reader)

A/n requested.

As much as you loved that Sam was enjoying her time out, you hated the fact you were now stuck alone in your shared apartment at ten o'clock at night and forecast says a thunderstorm is looming on the horizon.

Funnily enough, you used to live on your own, and nowadays, you question how you ever even dealt with it before.

You hid it from Sam pretty well, using her presence to keep you from reacting too much to let on about your fear of thunderstorms.

However, you partly wished you had told her because there might have been a slight chance that she'd come back early so you wouldn't be stuck curled up in a corner with headphones on trying to avoid the booming sounds of the weather outside.

You scold yourself for that train of thought, though.

You know you're being selfish thinking like that. It's your girlfriend's first proper time off in a while, and she's getting to let loose finally.

Go out drinking, have a good time, the usual that came with a pretty decent result in a major comp.

The pride in your chest was immense when she'd placed fourth overall in the World Cup, especially in a home World Cup.

So she definitely deserved this time off and shouldn't have to worry about babysitting her girlfriend because she's scared of a little noisy weather.

So, instead of calling your girlfriend like you were going to do, evident by the fact you've only just realised your thumb was hovering over her contact for the past five minutes, you curl up a bit more against the side of the bed, turn up your music and put your phone down.

You only hope she doesn't notice you're not in bed when she gets home in her, probably black-out, drunk state.

She had several states of drunkenness, four year old Sam was super cheeky and cuddly, sixteen year old Sam was a whole other level of sober Sam and twenty-two year old horny Sam, as affectionately named by Millie when she busted the two of you making out in a toilet stall at a bar the team had commandeered.

The last one only came out depending on the type of alcohol she's had. Usually, Tequila or Rosé are the ones to bring out that side of her.

You were kind of hoping for the former. At least then she'd pass out quickly and not notice your shaken state.

--------------------

Sam's alcohol inpaired movements were kind of obvious. Both to herself and the outside world, she'd only hoped you wouldn't notice, and she could slip into bed without waking you up.

The room around her spins slightly, and she knows she's in for it in the morning but can't bring herself to care when all she can think is the warmth of your embrace beneath the expensive sheet and quilt that you'd insisted be switched onto her bed instead of the simple one she used to own.

Of course, she hadn't actually bought it. It was yours until you moved in with her just two months ago.

She manages to stumble into the hallway, cursing the two steps up she'd ignored when purchasing the place and makes her way up to the weirdly shut bedroom door.

She steels herself, trying to shake off her drunkeness and opens the door.

The room is quiet, save for the rumblings of the ongoing storm outside, which had also soaked her clothing the moment she'd gotten out of the Uber.

The bed is empty, though, which confuses her for a minute. You weren't home?

She swore she'd checked the kitchen when she'd stumbled in, and as far as she could tell, she couldn't hear you currently scolding a very intoxicated Guro and Erin for crashing on your shared couch. Again.

It's only when she notices in a flash of light from the lightning outside that she spots the black plastic curve of your soundproof headphones peaking out from the other side of the bed.

Why were you up so late and... listening to music as well?

Sam carefully walks across the room to the bed and crawls across it, having kicked her shoes off at the front door, which you'll also most likely scold her for as well.

--------------------

It startles you when a pair of cold hands gently move the headphones off your face and you scream, jumping away from the sudden intruder.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, just me!"

You grab your chest, breathing rapid now and shake your head slightly.

"Jesus babe, heart attack. Just yell out to me next time or something."

"Sorry, baby." Her speech is slurred, like you expected.

"It's fine, just, you might wanna go to bed. Sleep off the alcohol and all- wait. Are you wet? Jesus, Sam, get off the bed and get changed. You're gonna dirty the covers."

The forward huffs but does as she's told, though struggling to find the closet in the dark and trips over a stray pair of shorts.

Luckily, you're right there to catch her and flip the switch for the light in the room to help her get changed.

"Fucking hell, and you complain about me not cleaning up."

You scoff.

"Excuse you, missy, those are yours. That's a number 20 on that leg."

As she pulls out a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, she turns back to you, swaying on her feet lightly.

"You were wearing them s'morning. You've been insisting you sleep in my stuff lately."

You raise a brow but remain silent, knowing she's right.

You had been but only because storm season was a bitch, and when you live in England, storm season was just about year round, thus the smell of your girlfriends clothing was what soothed you when you were home alone.

At that, you wince as the house shakes with another thunderous clap, but quickly cover it up by bending down to pick up the offending clothing.

If Sam noticed it, she doesn't acknowledge it.

It's only when she stumbles, trying to pull on a pair of sleep shorts that you stop and help her.

"Oh, for the love of- come on. Sit. I'll help you put them on."

Another boom rattles the walls, making you jump as she pulls the shorts up her legs and stands to finish pulling them on.

This time, she does notice but stays quiet and sits back down on the bed, observing you as you move to clean up the room a bit more.

Every time there's a flash of light from outside, every time there's a small clap of thunder, she sees you flinch, though it looks like you're trying to conceal it.

Even in her heavily intoxicated brain, she can tell that you're not having a great time at the moment.

When you finally hit the switch to the light again, manoeuvre you both under the covers and into bed, her head tucked into your chest since she tended to little spoon when she was drunk like this.

It's then that she speaks up, feeling you tense with another clap of thunder.

"Baby.."

You hum softly in acknowledgement.

"Are you afraid of storms?"

That's when you freeze, unsure of what to tell her.

"I- what makes you say that?"

She sits up, moving so she's leaning on her elbow above you.

"You get jumpy whenever it's been storming lately, that and you're really tense right now. You get super cuddly and-."

You clench your eyes shut at the house's vibration with the boom of lightning once again.

"Okay, yeah... yep. I really hate storms..."

You duck under the covers a bit more, and Sam just about melts at the sight.

Immediately, her arms are around you again, tugging you closer to lay tangled up with your head buried in her neck.

Despite the obvious smell of alcohol on her skin, you lay silently and just breathe her in, occasionally flinching as the storm progresses.

It's silent for a few minutes, the rain seemingly calming from its hammering against the glass window in the room.

"Babe, if you don't mind me asking, why? What's got you afraid of those big ol' stormy boys?"

The way she says it makes you laugh, her goofiness is always a form of entertainment for you, her drunken state making it that much more amusing.

"I, uh, I don't know. Just hate them, can't stand them. I mean, lightning struck the big gum tree we had out the front of my childhood home when I was five, and it scared the crap out of me... but aside from that, like, nothing bad happened. It's just always been a phobia of mine."

The sentence is punctuated by another tense from you as there's another rumble.

Sam thinks for a minute and you wonder if she's finally drifted off in the silence, but she suddenly gets up on the bed, standing up on the mattress.

"Baby, what're you-"

Her hands move to her hips, and she points with an off in the distance gesture, much like a superhero would, and you both curse and try to smother a laugh as she does so.

"Hey you! Big ol' storm. You leave my girl alone. I'm The Amazing Sam, and I will beat you up for scaring her, and you'll rue the day you tried to hurt my baby!"

Through laughter, you try and pull her back down again as she does the put-em-up fighting stance.

"Sammy, for god's sake, get down." You laugh between words. "You're gonna fall off the bed."

She pouts softly but grins when she sees your silent laughter and quickly grabs a hold of you in her embrace.

Her lips press a kiss to your forehead as your chest shakes with laughter for a few minutes before finally calming down.

"Oh my god, I love you so much. You're such a goof."

The grin of pride on her lips makes you roll your eyes lovingly and press a small kiss to them.

She tastes mildly of whisky and a hint of beer.

"Love you too, gorgeous, I'll always protect you from meanies like the big bully out there."

You giggle softly.

"Thank you baby, now go to sleep, your head is already gonna hurt in the morning as is."

She huffs but curls back into your hold, and she eventually drifts off, the storm outside long forgotten by yourself as you drift with her.

--------------------

"Seriously guys?! Again?!"

The yell from the loungeroom makes Sam's head throb, and she huffs, burying her head back into the pillow, knowing she's in shit.

The pair of Chelsea players cuddling on your couch are startled awake at your scolding as you stand with your hands on your hips, a scowl on your features.

Guro jumps awake and falls off of Erin with a groan as she hits the floorboards.

"And you're both drenched as well. Damnit, Sam."

You sigh and run your hand over your face, walking away to now make breakfast and coffee for yourself and three other football players.

It was far too early for this.

--------------------

[wosowrites]

I Can Be Your New Home (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

Warnings: None

A/N: how cute is this gif!! it’s a long long fic so settle in. based off this request:

Prompt: In which Jessie is homesick so during a training session, you make sure to do a bunch of little things to make her feel better.

You and Jessie had clicked instantly. You were bubbly, smiley and outgoing off the field, and on the field you took a new role. The one of the stone cold, rough and slightly reckless player. However Jessie was more reserved, quiet and introverted off the field, she really found herself on the field. Jessie had been with Chelsea for a month now. It was the middle of August and London was as rainy as always.

Jessie arrived to training at 9:20, as an on field training session would start at 10:00, while a recovery gym session would take place for an hour from 11:45-12:45. Most of the team was on the pitch, hiding from the rain under the sheltered benches. "Jesus. I was really hoping to have a sunny session today." Sam groaned, slouching down lower in her seat.

Jessie was looking around the field, searching for you. She did that every day, even though she knew you always came a little later than you should. Jessie’s hood was up and her hands were hidden under the long sleeves of her coat. "I bet you’re missing sunny California now, Jessie." Erin said.

Her comment was harmless, absolutely innocent. But the thing Jessie had failed to mention to anyone on the team, was how horribly home sick she was. She missed London, Canada, but she also missed LA, where she had spent years playing soccer under the sun. The only time she felt good, the only time where she forgot how far from home she was, was when she was with you. Jessie’s eyes welled up, tears streaming down her cheeks, causing the players she was close to (Sam, Erin, Magda, Pernille and Niahm) to widen their eyes in panic. "I didn’t mean too-" Erin started saying. "No. No. I’m sorry." She sniffled, quickly rushing into the interior of Cobham, leaving a confused group of blues.

You were driving peacefully in your car. It was 9:25 and you were jamming out to music, singing to yourself loudly. You were a horrible singer, and any time you wanted to annoy your teammates, you would sing them a song. Your music was annoyingly interrupted by an incoming call from Magda. You answered it. "Hey, Mags." You said to her. "Y/n. How far from Cobham are you?" Magda asked. "Uhh… like 10 minutes." You answered, switching lanes. "Damn it." Magda said, and you heard mutters from around her. "Why? What is it?" You asked. "It’s Jessie. I don’t know what happened really. One minute she was looking around and the other Erin mentioned California and she started crying and rushed inside. No one wants to go talk to her because she’s so… well she’s shy. You’re the only person who can get her out of her shell." Magda said. Your heart raced as you heard Magda say there was something wrong with the Canadian. "Okay. I’ll be there in five." You said to her, entering the highway. "You said you were ten minutes away." Magda said. "I will be there in five." You said sternly.

You hung up Magda’s call and quickly pressed your foot on the gas.

As promised, you were there five minutes later. You rushed out of your car, grabbing your bag and hurrying towards the field in your slides. "Where is she?" You asked a group of the girls, they all pointed towards the door leading to the Cobham changing rooms. You nodded sternly and tossed Millie your bag. "Catch."

You didn’t waste time looking to see if she had caught it or not, instead, you pushed open the doors and walked towards the changing rooms. There were two, you chose the left one. You were right. Jessie was sitting on the bench, her head in her hands. She was still wearing her wet raincoat. "Jess?" You said gently. Her head shot up and you saw her bloodshot eyes. "Hey. Sorry, I’ll be out in a minute." She said, her voice shaky. "No, it’s okay. And you can take all the time in the world. Can I sit down?" You said to her, ending towards her slightly trembling frame.

She nodded and you took a seat beside her. "What is it?" You asked her. "And don’t say nothing because I can be really annoying and I’ll get it out of you." You told her. "You aren’t annoying." Jessie said. "I am. Magda made me promise not to be annoying to you for the first three months. It’s been really hard." You told Jessie.

She let out a laugh and you subconsciously smiled wildly. "Did she really?" Jessie asks, looking up from her feet to look at you instead. "Yep. Payed me twenty pounds and everything. I get twenty more if you don’t complain about me by the end of the three months." You added. "Well i’ll make sure not to complain then." Jessie smiled. "Thank you."

There was a pause between you both, broken by you repeating your question. "What’s wrong?"

"Im homesick. Like… really homesick. And it’s so stupid because I’m a grown adult and I was barely homesick when I went to university but now… I don’t sleep, I have trouble eating. Everything is unfamiliar." Jessie confessed to you, looking back down at the ground. You took a minute to think, wanting to say the right thing. "Jess, it’s normal. You just moved to a whole new continent in the middle of a pandemic. You can’t go see your family, and they can’t come to you. And that… I can’t relate and I don’t know how it would feel but your obviously close with your family. I don’t blame you. You have a sister, right? Elysse?" You asked. Jessie’s head shot up at the mention of her little sister’s name, and her brows furrowed in confusion. "How do you know her?" Jessie asked. "She followed me on instagram. The last name caught my eye. Some wild fan probably talked to her about me." You joked. "That would be me." Jessie said. "Really?!"

Jessie laughed again, when she laughed, you felt good. "Jessie if you miss your family that much, if you miss your friends from UCLA then that means there’s something to miss. And that’s good. It means you have people back home that love you. When I moved to London I was 19. I’ve been playing for Chelsea for 3 years now and not once have I missed my family. We were never close and they were never good to me. So moving here was a relief more than anything else. When I go back to the Netherlands, it’s to see my real Dutch family. Viv Miedema, DVD, my international teammates. And you… you have your family and all the Canadian team. I know missing them hurts, but it’s just a twisted way for your mind to tell you how much love you have for them."

Jessie seemed deep in though and the tears were back in her eyes. "Shit. Fuck I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you cry again. I-" You started saying in a panicked tone. "No, no it’s not you. It’s me. You’re just right. You’re really right." Jessie said.

There was a knock on the door but it didn’t open. "Wait a second." You told her.

You slipped out of the room to find Magda on the other side. "Could you tell Emma we need a couple more minutes. Oh and tell the team that if anyone looks at her weirdly I will kick the ball at them so hard that they’re organs come pouring out of their mouths." You threatened.

That was a genuine threat, your shot was incredibly strong, you had once broken a net by shooting it at the post so hard, and during practice penalty kicks, Emma didn’t let any keeper go in net for their own safety.

Magda nodded to you. "She’s okay though?" Magda asked. "She’s fine mom." You teased her. "You’re funny." She said sarcastically before heading back outside, pulling her rain coat over her head.

You walked back into the changing room where Jessie seemed to be sorting herself out. She had re done her hair and splashed water on her face. "I wanna do something with you." You told Jessie, patting the spot next to you on the bench. She sat down and looked at you. "Okay, go ahead." Jessie said.

"I’ve heard that one of the hardest things of moving somewhere new is that you don’t know anyone. There are no other Canadians here, and I get that, there are no other dutchies that play for Chelsea, so you don’t really really know anyone. So get to know me. You tell me a fact about you, and i’ll tell you one about me. No follow up questions aloud." You told her.

She seemed to contemplate the idea, having always been a reserved person, but eventually she gave in. "Okay. You go first." She said, bringing her legs up on the bench and sitting in a criss cross position. "I love skincare. Like I have so many products and I spend all my money on it." You told her. "Hmm. I still hold the record for fastest 5K race at my high school." Jessie said. "When I was nine, my dream job was to be a trophy wife. I just wanted to marry a rich man." You told her, making her laugh. "I’ve had four dogs, all of them golden retrievers." Jessie told you. "I’ve never told anyone this… but on my first cap for the Netherlands, right before we walked out of the tunnel, I was so nervous I threw up. And then I went on to play 90 minutes." You told Jessie. "Didn’t you score like two goals on your debut?" Jessie asked. "No follow up questions!" You grounded her. "Okay one last thing from both of us because we need to go to training." Jessie said. "Deal."

"I hate being in front of the camera. It gives me so much anxiety." Jessie said. You had noticed that. She would often hide behind you while walking out of the team bus or in other situations with photographers. "Hm. Well, I’ve been cheated on twice and one time by Sam’s teammate which is extremely awkward." You told her. "Really? That’s horrible. But who?" She asked you.

You stood up and extended your hand for her to take. "Jessie Fleming. Have you learned nothing? No. Follow. Up. Questions." You said.

She groaned and you laughed, opening the door for her and letting her out. "You’re okay though. Right?" You asked her, grabbing her hand and gently rubbing your thumb over the back of it. She looked down at it before looking at you for a second. "I am now." She said.

You walked out, your heart racing and not letting go of her hand. You only dropped it when you guys made it outside. The rain was still coming down heavy but as promised, the girls weren’t looking at you. You ditched your jacket and threw it to the side of the field. "You’ll be cold!" Jessie told you as you both jogged towards the group who were doing a rondo. "I won’t."

You trained for a bit less than two hours and then you went inside for a gym session. Everyone was given a quick fifteen minutes to dry up and that’s when you regretted taking off your coat. Everyone was soaked but you… it was a whole other story. You and the girls changed, and when you took off your shorts and your shirt, you realized how the rain had soaked your underwear and sports bra. You groaned loudly as the wet fabric, making the girls look at you. "Holy shit you’re soaked." Guro laughed at you as you slipped on another pair of shorts. "Thanks, Guro. I noticed." You told her. "Urgh the material is sticking to my skin this is gross." You groaned. "Should have worn your coat." Jessie said as the teamed looked at her shocked. "Is Jessie Fleming being cocky?" Sam asked, walking up to her and shaking her shoulders, making her laugh. "I learned from the best." She said, nodding towards you. You took a bow and then walked into the washroom to stand under the hand dryer to try and dry your bra. You were in an awkward position, trying to get under the dryer when the girls walked in, phones out and filming you. "You guys are assholes!" You yelled at them, flipping them off. "Oh this is gold." Magda said. "I would expect better form you Eriksson!" You told her. "C’mon, the captain needs to have a little fun too."

Due to the material of your sports bra, it did not dry, but you went to the gym anyways and did your sessions. The photographers were there, taking pictures and videos of all of you. The camera man came up to you and you jokingly flexed your bicep, earning wolf whistles from the team. The media team was filming one of those videos, he had been filming your workout, along with other players. You saw him heading towards Jessie’s direction and you stopped your reps to walk over to her. You stood behind the camera man who was about to start filming and ushered her towards you. She got up from rolling out her muscles and walked towards you. You put your hands on her shoulders and spun her around so that you were standing between her and the camera.

The camera man panned around the room and he didn’t get a shot of Jessie as you stood in front of her. "Thank you." She said. "It’s all good, but you should get used to the camera, it’s a big part of our job." You told her. She nodded, understanding and smiled at you adorably. "Hey, spot me?" You asked her. "Of course." You guys headed towards the bench press section and you put the weights on the bars. You completed your reps, too busy on making sure your posture was good to notice that Jessie was looking down at you with a special look in her eye, and you were both too focused to notice the camera filming you.

The gym session ended and you all went back to changing room to shower and then put on your change of clothes. "You guys wanna get coffee?" Sam asked the group as you all changed. The rain had stopped so you put on a pair of white shorts and a big yellow crewneck along with white socks and your favorite beige air Jordan 1’s.

Most of the girls already had plans but you didn’t, and to your joy, Jessie didn’t either. So, you, Magda, Pernille Sam, Guro, Zecira, Lauren, Jessie and Niahm all walked to the parking lot in a big group. Everyone took their own cars to get to the outdoor coffee shop you guys loved, and Jessie, who didn’t have a car yet, ended up carpooling with you.

"You should get a car, Jess." You told her, plugging in your phone to the bluetooth and starting up the car. "Driving in London makes me nervous, the sides of the road are different." Jessie told you. "Ahh, I understand that. Then I’ll drive you." You told her. "Where do you live?"

Jessie gave you her adresse. "That’s only like ten minutes from my house. It’s barely a detour. Let me drive you, please." You told her, looking away from the road briefly to give her your best puppy eyes. She cracked immediately. "Fine."

You cheered and Jessie laughed. What you hadn’t told her was that you did not live ten minutes from her. You lived about thirty minutes from her. But you would have drove an hour to have her in your car every morning. To have her to yourself a bit longer than everyone else.

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Millie Bright x Reader

Knocked Down & Locked In

Prompt: Something where they’re both footballers and one of them is being extra clingy/needy and their teammates keeping teasing them? Maybe one of thems not feeling good, or perhaps it’s their anniversary - @ac3may

“Happy anniversary baby!” Millie jump scared you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders from behind and pulling you into her, planting multiple kisses on your neck making you squirm. “Baaaabe, people are watching” your voice whiny as you tried to wiggle away from her grasp which only tightened. “So what? It’s our anniversary, don’t I get to love you today?” she said still hanging off your back, enveloping you into her warmth and affection as you walked around the pitch. “I thought you didn’t like PDA?” you questioned as she balanced her chin on the top of your head with her arms now around your waist. Walking in time with each other’s steps so you didn’t stumble over one another. “Today’s special though, we’re in the city of luuurve” she said before plastering you with kisses again. “We’re not in Paris yet silly” spinning round to face her and seeing her floppy bun coming loose. “Turn around, let me do this for you” you said as she knelt down on the floor so you could reach to pull the hairband out of her hair. Wrapping her blonde strands around your fist to form her iconic messy bun - everyone knows Millie’s signature look but nobody knows it’s you that does it for her before every game; that’s why she never makes videos on how to do it, no matter how many people request it.

You’re playing Lyon today in the first leg of the Champions League semi final and then going out for your anniversary dinner. You and your girlfriend of three years play for Chelsea and got together shortly after you joined the team from Man U a few years ago. Millie had set her sights on you the minute you stepped foot into Kingsmeadow and wouldn’t stop until she got you. She was the perfect woman - gracious, kind, caring, fucking hilarious and always kept you on your toes. You needed more excitement in your life and Chelsea with Millie certainly bought it.

Finishing your walk around the pitch for inspection ahead of kick off, Millie bent down gesturing for you to jump on her back as she piggybacked you towards the tunnel. Your teammates were quick to meet you with sarcastic comments as you entered the changing room, everyone had noticed how Millie had been extremely clingy all day - more so than usual!

“You two are gonna be classed as one player soon, you’ve been stuck together all day!” Sophie laughed as she whacked you with her towel.

“Ye twa make me feel seck!” your wee Scottish friend shouted from the other side of the room. Putting her finger near her mouth to act like she was about to puke.

“Yeah! Not everyone can have a bring your girlfriend to work day, stop rubbing our faces in it!” Sam sulked thinking of Kristie in America.

“They’re like this all the time at England camps too!” Jess chimed in with the rest of them. Millie still hadn’t let go of you, her arm still draped over your shoulders with pride. She loved being able to call you her girlfriend and she loved rubbing everyone’s faces in it even more.

“Stop guys, I think they’re cute!” Guro said nuzzling herself between you as your bodies moved apart to envelope her.

Warm ups completed, the stadium was filling up nicely, Millie had backed off a little but not completely. She was always by your side and it wasn’t a secret you two were dating but liked to keep it professional in front of the fans.

The game started off great, Chelsea had the upper hand the whole first half, Millie did what she did best and delivered you a beautiful long ball that you slotted into the net with ease. Running straight over and jumping into her arms to celebrate, what more could two footballers want for their anniversary than an assist and goal from each other? Lyon put in some great work towards the end of the first half but our team were strong and stuck together, we just had to hold on to half-time.

That’s when tragedy struck as out of the corner of your eye you spotted your girl wobble, looking over to check she was okay she gave you the thumbs up before going to run again, this time falling to the floor. Your heart thumped as the ball was passed to you, the ref didn’t blow her whistle so you kicked it out of play and sprinted to be by her side, the expression on her face told you she couldn’t go on. Your heart sank just thinking of those three dreaded letters that have taken out too many already and hoping this wasn’t the end of her season. Not with the World Cup coming up. This can’t be happening, not on your anniversary. Declining a stretcher you helped pull her up onto her good leg, walking every step off the pitch with her. You were in shock, you’ve just never thought of Millie as someone who could or ever would get injured - she was a force to be reckoned with, she was the glue of this team and without her, we became unstuck. Turning around to show her face trying to hold back tears, she pulled off the captains armband and slipped it onto your arm. “Do me proud (y/l/n)” she said solemnly before turning around and disappearing up the tunnel. Your heart shattered, you wanted nothing more than to be by her side but you had to focus on bringing the team to half-time.

When the whistle blew you couldn’t get off the grass fast enough, running down the tunnel pushing open every door just trying to catch a glimpse of her until you finally spotted your blondie on the medic bed, she was crying. Millie never cried so you knew it must be bad. You tried to get information out of them but seeing as she’d only just come off, there was nothing to be shared. The door opened behind you as Sam and Erin appeared to hurry you back for the team talk.

To take your mind off of Millie you did what you did best and made sure the team came through with a win, football enabled you to take your mind off anything, you could focus and be yourself - your whole self. That morning a distant memory of her wrapped around your shoulders, happy and carefree. You longed to go back to that moment, you were going to take her to Paris after the game and now all of that is ruined.

Clapping the travelling fans but not going all the way, you weren’t in the mood to act okay and all you wanted was to be on Millie’s lap and wrapped in her arms. You jogged off down the tunnel and into the medic room where your girl was still sat looking glum. You asked if she could stand or walk but with your questions came more tears, “I’m sorry (y/n/n)” she cried. “Hey prinny, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for” you said sitting next to her in the bed and wiping her tears away. “Enough of that, we can still go can’t we?” you were hopeful but not naive, you knew it was a long shot. “Why do you think I’m saying sorry?” she muttered as her head leant on your chest enabling hair stroking to commence. “We’ll get a wheelchair! I’ll push you! I need some extra strength in these arms!” you joked excitedly trying to raise a smile from her. “You… pushing me? Do I need to remind you how much shorter you are than me?” your plan had worked as her eyes glistened with the soft laughter coming from her mouth. The same height as Erin, you stood 6 inches shorter than your girlfriend. “I don’t care how small I am, I’ll push you around the world if I have to. Do you still wanna go if I can wing it?” Millie hummed a yes with a smile as her forehead pressed against yours. “I love you so much (y/n)” pressing your lips together before running out of the room to talk to Emma. You had to beg a little but eventually she gave in, as long as you’re on the plane in the morning, you can go. Running around frantically in search of a wheelchair you finally found one in an empty room, the medics helped her into it and out into the awaiting taxi.

Spending the evening in a restaurant directly underneath the Eiffel Tower, you thought about how this is the most romantic date you’d ever been on. Laughing and joking your way into the evening as you gazed lovingly into each others eyes from across the table. You had never been to Paris before but Millie had been plenty. “Are we going up there then?” you asked pointing towards the top of the tower. “With your fear of heights? I didn’t plan on it!” she laughed at you. “I’ve been working myself up to it, when will I ever do this again?” Finishing your desserts you wheeled her over to the lift, seeing people crammed inside you were worried they wouldn’t be able to accommodate the chair. Asking to have a quiet word with a worker they were able to clear a lift for you two only. Fear started to sink in as you reached halfway and Millie could sense it, reaching for your hand that was clinging to the handles of the chair. “Come here” she said gesturing for you to stand in front of her “just look at me” your face instantly breaking into a smile, it was impossible to be scared, sad or any other negative emotion when her cheeky little face was looking at you, she started cracking jokes until you reached the top. Wheeling her out onto the edge where you could see twinkling lights for miles under a blanket of darkness, it was beautiful. “Wow, I’m so glad I did this, it’s almost as beautiful as you” you sounded elated bending down to kiss her cheek. Parking the breaks on the chair and moving to stand next to her Millie looked up at you and patted her thigh, “have you forgotten why you’re in here in the first place?” you questioned her. “Hey, I have one good knee and you’re only tiny. Come here” holding your hand and pulling you towards her. Lowering yourself gently onto her good leg she wrapped her arm around your waist as your arm draped around her shoulders, your head fit perfectly under her chin “happy anniversary beautiful” she whispered and shared a kiss. “Thank you for making this happen” her head rested on your chest as you sat for what felt like hours staring out into the horizon. Learning forward to admire the locks attached to metal frame work, you watched her face light up as she read the names on them. Standing up to pull out of your pocket a lock engraved with your names and the year you both met and silently presenting it to her in your hand. A little gasp and a “aww” left her mouth as she took in her hands to admire, on the other side was the Chelsea logo for where you met. “Is this for here?” she asked with the softest eyes, slightly welling up at the cute gesture. “If you want it to be?” you proposed knowing that she’s spoken about wanting to do this countless of times before. Millie thought you were actually going to propose and seeing as you’ve never spoken about marriage you asked what she would have said. “Let me make this clear” she smiled as she tapped your legs to jump off her. Bringing the lock to her lips to kiss it then holding it for you to do the same she clicked it together onto the iconic building. “Perfect” she smiled as she wheeled herself back to admire it, “you’re stuck with me now!” she shouted, her loudness finding its way back to surface telling you she was already feeling happier.

[woso-soso]

Would kind of love to write a fic where Guro is R and it’s a big deal in their relationship 😂 would that be something that interests you all?

[pitchsidestories]

HOT TO GO! II Niamh Charles x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1026

a/n: hi, it's based off this request here, have fun. <3

Usually the atmosphere in the dressing room would never be this relaxed right before a London Derby.

But this was a friendly against Arsenal. And it wasn’t even in London. So the tension and explosive nature of such a game were slightly subdued.

You slipped your sock on and pushed your shinguards down while simultaneously humming to “HOT TO GO!“ which was playing in the background.

Niamh was right next to you, tying her shoes. Her jersey hung right behind her, and alongside it, the bright yellow armband with the big C on it.

You smirked: “Nice armband, Captain Charles.“

She looked up. Her gaze shifted from you to the captains armband and back to you.

“Thanks.“ Her voice rose at the end, making it sound like a question. Still, her cheeks blushed in a subtle pink.

Smiling, you leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. An inconspicuous way of showing how proud you were of her.

“Ugh, can’t you two be less couple-y for once?“, Erin groaned from the other side of the room, her face a grimace of disgust.

“We’re not doing anything! At least I don’t.“, Niamh protested and pointed innocently at her chest.

Nathalie laughed: “Then get your girlfriend to behave.“

You rolled your eyes in a playful gesture: “Oh come on. This was all innocent.“

Niamh turned to you with one eyebrow raised and her hand on your thigh: “Ignore them, babe. Erin’s just jealous and Nat wishes Aurora was still on her team.“

“WHAT?!“, they both said in unison.

You smiled at you girlfriend, knowing it would annoy your two teammates: “You might be right about that.“

Erin shook her head, visibly annoyed: “Let’s go warm up, Nat. Or else I’m going to puke.“

Giggling, you watched as the two left the dressing room.

“Come on, you two lovebirds need to warm up as well.“, Zecira reminded you. She was clearly biting back a grin.

Niamh got up, ready to follow the others outside as well but she patiently waited for you while you slipped into your shoes.

“Sorry, love. Blame it on the Chapell Roan songs they played. They got me in this certain mood.“, you apologized with a wink and pressed yourself into her side.

“Come on. As captain I can’t be the last to the warm-up.“, Niamh smiled.

You let go of her and nodded: “Right. Especially not on a derby day.“

Side by side you entered the pitch for the warm-up, doing your exercises.

“Girls, get ready! The game is about to start.“, Millie called across the pitch, repeating the instructions from the coaching staff.

While everyone went back into the dressing room to switch from their warm-up shirts to their actual football jerseys, you used the break to run to the bathroom.

A tradition that was part of every game for you. But this time you were lost in thought, still repeating the chorus of that song in your head.

“Ready!“, you announced as you walked back onto the pitch, high-fiving your teammates.

Once you reached your girlfriend, she just looked you up and down: “Nice Shirt.“

“What? Shit?”, you cursed when you realized you were still wearing your warmup shirt, your skin turned pale despite the tan from the summer vacation.

The horror and embarrassment were written all over your face.  Before you could think any further about what to do next your feet started running.

“Jersey to go for y/n.” With a huge grin on her lips Lucy threw your jersey at you which you pressed relived to your chest.

“Thanks.”, you mouthed gratefully as you quickly put the new third kit on.

“Everyone ready now?”, Niamh wanted to know, still looking pretty amused by what just happened to you.

“Yes, everything’s sorted out.”, you assured her.

“Luce, we’ll never let y/n forget that this has happened, right?”, Millie bumped her shoulder against the brunette defenders one.

“Never.”, she agreed smirking.

“You two aren’t as quite as you think.”, you intervened, wishing a hole on the pitch could swallow you whole to save you from the awkward situation.

“You know you deserve it.”, Lucy kept teasing.

“That was so embarrassing.”, you muttered hiding your burning cheeks with your hands while you were getting ready for the group photo.

“Stop thinking about it. This could have happened to everyone.”, Niamh tried to cheer you up, putting an arm around your shoulders encouragingly.

The two of you and the rest of the team waited for the photographer to frame this memory. After that was done, everyone was beginning to move again, eagerly anticipating the start of the derby.

“Right, but I just know that it’ll haunt me in my dreams.”, you admitted.

“That’s what you get for flirting with the captain.”, Millie threw in with a wink.

“Y/n?”, Niamh immediately approached you after the referee blew the final whistle.

“Yes?”, you looked up, feeling her gaze linger on you.

“Good game.”, your girlfriend congratulated you beaming.

“Thanks, another derby win for us and you didn’t play bad either.”, you commented cheekily.

“Oh wow, nice of you.”, she chuckled.

“I know.”, you laughed.

“At least I didn’t forget to put my jersey on.”, Niamh reminded you.

“Cold captain, what about the it-could-have-happened-to-anyone-talk from earlier.”, you pouted playfully.

“I take that back. I only said it because you seemed embarrassed.”, the defender declared.

“You can sleep on the floor tonight.”, you gasped, pretending to be offended by her thoughtful gesture.

“Okay, and you can make sure you never forget your stuff again.”, she countered promptly.

“Fine.”, you agreed.

“Are you done now?”, Niamh asked, her hand resting on your back while you made your way to the changing rooms. The heat hasn’t dropped down yet, and the sun still shone strongly on both of you.

“I am time to go to our room with no shirts on.”, you announced.

“I can tell you’re not the biggest fans of shirts.”, your girlfriend remarked smiling.

“You know it’s still hot so they can go.”, you decided bluntly, referring to the song from earlier, but also the temperature which was making the thought of nothing on very delicious.

[wheatstone-bridge]

The Barrier

It was a friendly between Italy and Scotland, with both teams preparing for the Euro qualifiers. It was a small pitch that they were playing on. they were playing in Italy, with a small crowd of maybe 6,000 cheering them on. The game was at 1-1. Both goals from penalties. It was a tense match, both teams having something to prove.

It was the 78th minute. Erin and an Italian midfielder were going up to head the ball. Simple tackle, Little risk. They were near the sideline, with space either side of them. Win this ball and Scotland can go on the attack.

Erin and the Italian were shoulder to shoulder going up to the tackle. But the Scot had enough strength to knock the Italian out of the way. An easy header to knock the ball to Evans feet. That was until she felt a force slam into her right side.

Erin felt the impact before she knew what was happening. The breath was knocked out of her. The force followed through after impact. sending Erin off the pitch and into a barrier. A loud crash was heard as the blonde fell onto the wooden advertisement board. then the clash of metal as the board broke. Sending the Scot to the ground, surrounded by broken wood and bent metal.

Disorientated, the blonde could only try to catch her breath. She could hear the muffled shouts of her teammates as they run to where she was. Erin put her head on the ground gently and stared into the night sky. There’s not much else she can do at the moment.

She sees the familiar face of Ella, the team’s medic, block her view. She is talking, but Erin can’t make out what she’s saying. The edge of her vision starts to become dark. It starts to creep inwards, taking more of her vision away.

She sees Ella talk to her again. the sound is muffled for Erin. Her head begins to feel heavy, as tiredness sweeps through her body like a comforting blanket. the irresistible lure of sleep caressing her mind into the heaviness. The last thing Erin sees before she gives in, is the Italian night sky.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing Erin registers is the sound of pen on paper. Her mind wanders to her days in school, the constant writing that she did. Next, she hears the shuffling of a chair. Someone is trying to place a metal legged chair down quietly. Trying being the key word.

I wonder how you do that quietly, there must be a knack to it. Erin wonders, putting that thought away for now.

A door opens and someone walks in. They’re either tall or heavy by the sounds of it. Erin struggles to put any face to this thought. It’s as though a fog is blocking her memory.

"How is she?" a voice interrupts. Scottish accented.

"Still the same, no movement from her." Another Scottish accent. Must be the teammates then.

"Go and stretch your legs, Lisa. I'll stay and watch her."

"I'm fine here. I need to go through this stuff anyway." Lisa replies, waving paper in the air loudly.

"What is that? Looks important."

"Just some insurance stuff. they updated something in the policy, so I need to take a look at it." A pen is dropped.

"Listen, Jamie, I know your worried. But she’s not meant to wake up for a while yet. They have her on some good painkillers." Lisa lets frustration seep into her voice. "You need rest. Proper rest in a proper bed."

Erin can’t hear what’s said next. The heaviness is back. This time more aggressive. Theres no lull to this sleep. Just a sudden snap of unconsciousness.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Erin opens her eyes for the first time, she is not impressed.

There is a stream of light from what she supposes is a window, directly in her line of sight.

All she manages to do is open them slightly, before forcing them closed immediately after.

"Erin?" A new voice asks. "Erin, can you hear me?" the voice comes closer.

"Kirsty, what are you doing?" A voice from last time questions. Jamie.

"She moved!" The voi- Kirsty almost shouted.

"Who?"

"Erin!"

A shuffle was heard, the bed dipped on the right side of Erin.

"Erin?" Jamie asked softly.

With all her strength, Erin could only manage a feeble groan past her lips.

"Erin, I'll give you my entire stash of chocolate next camp, if you open your eyes for me." Kirsty bargained. The bed dips slightly on the left.

Erin felt the heaviness start to return. This time, she held it off. barely. It’s a fight alright. But it’s a fight she knows she can win. With a struggle, she gets her eyes open. Slowly of course. She is greeted with the sight of two familiar faces.

"Chocolate?" is the only word Erin can manage. But it’s all Jamie and Kirsty needed to hear, to know that she'll be alright.

[trulyhblue]

Reposting this bc I'm in DESPERATE NEED of inspo

if u have any ideas send in some requests!!!!!!!!!!

I NEED INSPO RN OMG

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚂𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙴𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚂

description: In which lauren james's girlfriend is not a chelsea supporter but will still be seen in the stands, even if some 'fans' dislike it

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

lauren james x female reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction! Do not take any of this seriously.

warnings: language, rude discussions and slight violence/bullying, also cuteness, also slightly saucy ;) - also sorry to jamie cook i invented u a fake sister lmao

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Lauren huffed once more as she walked toward the car, her girlfriend carrying her bag for her and placing it in the front seat before moving to the other side and going to kiss her girlfriend.

"Good luck!" y/n grinned at her girlfriend, the footballer narrowing her eyes at the author with a pout.

"I don't know why you can't where my shirt." Lauren sighs and y/n sends her a look.

"This is your shirt." She defends, turning to point at the 'James' lettering on the England shirt.

"Not the team I am playing for today." The Chelsea players says and y/n rolls her eyes.

"I will not betray the Hammers. You're lucky I even cheer for you!" y/n states and Lauren rolls her eyes.

"Can't believe I fell in love with a Hammers fan." Lauren huffs as she pecks y/n's lips lightly.

"Can't believe I fell in love with a Chelsea player." y/n counters, trying to pull away from Lauren, but the older woman pulls her back by the England shirt.

Lauren's hands cupped her lover's face and she pulled her up and close to her lips, the two meeting in a deep kiss, Lauren's mouth pressing tightly against y/n's.

Despite Lauren being pinned between her lover and the car, the kiss made it clear she had all of the control, especially when she slid her tongue past y/n's lips, groaning at the taste of minty toothpaste and the strawberry yoghurt she always had for breakfast.

Lauren was lost in the taste of y/n, her teeth caught y/n's bottom lip and tugged sensually. Despite it being a normal move of Lauren's and the fact they had been together over a year now, y/n's legs still buckled.

Her hands which had been gripping Lauren's shoulders tightened and the footballer's hands braced her waist and ass, pushing y/n against her body Lauren sighed out in the physical comfort.

"When you kiss like that, I remember why I fell in love with a Chelsea player." y/n hums, her head tucked into Lauren's neck as the breathed in each other's space.

"I have to go." Lauren sighs and y/n leans up pecking her lips once more.

"Stay calm, play well, I'll be with Reece in the England shirt, screaming for you." y/n whispered. Today was a game against Liverpool, a big game.

"I know. I love you." Lauren nods.

"Love you too." y/n smiles before kissing her girlfriend once more and letting her drive away.

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y/n just posted on their story

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Ten minutes into the game and tension was already climbing, as Lauren had come out, she had shook her head at her brother who shouted her name excitedly, her girlfriend sat happily next to him clapping her hands.

The coat she was wearing was Lauren's, the wrists of the coat over y/n's and it looked slightly oversized, yet Lauren's England shirt was still clearly visible through it.

y/n gripped Reece's hand as she watched Lauren receive the ball, her girlfriend firing it at the goal from a tight angle and the net rippling. Reece shouted as y/n screamed excitedly clapping her hands as her girlfriend ran at the fans, her hand slamming against the badge.

Sam jumped on Lauren excitedly, but the goal-scorer was too busy finding her girlfriend in the crowd and sending her a proud grin, one which her lover returned with an air kiss.

Sam seeing it, intercepted the kiss, pretending to catch it in her hand and place it on her cheek with a grin, which caused Lauren to chase her back to their places, the crowd laughed at this.

There was a scoff behind Reece and y/n, two girls who clearly knew someone to be in the friends and family section eyeing up the back of y/n's coat, which had fallen off her slightly.

In her jumping excitement, it was clear now as y/n pulled the coat back up she was wearing Lauren's England shirt, and one of the camera men zoomed in on the badge as they waited for restart.

The third official needing a new mic pack put a slow start on the game and so the crowd laughed as they noticed y/n in the England shirt, the girl grinning as Reece pretended to shove her.

The game re-started and Liverpool equalised quickly, y/n and Reece groaning as they made eye contact, Lauren shrugging off a Liverpool challenge.

During a tackle moments later, Lauren went down, a petulant pout forming on her lips as she protested at the ref who gave the foul. The Liverpool player murmured something, her head nodding toward y/n.

Lauren paused for a second as if trying to remain calm, and before anything could worsen Sam stood in front of her muttering calming words as they set up the free kick.

"What do you think was said?" Reece asks as Lauren looks over to her girlfriend, her lover sending her a calming look.

"With how Lauren reacted, something about me." y/n sighed Reece squeezing her hand in support.

The was a scoffed laugh behind them from the two girls, whispers suddenly arising Reece tensed but y/n sent him a look as well. Both James siblings had rather bad tempers and y/n was the opposite.

Other than at West Ham games, y/n was probably the calmest person anyone would ever meet. She was kind, lovely and incredibly loveable.

Because of this, Lauren would often say she found a lot of strength in her lover, that she kept her level-headed and calm. Reece had found something similar in the girl he now saw as his sister-in-law.

"Making it about her when it's poor Lauren on the pitch?" One of the girls said, her friend letting out a very pretty giggle at it.

"I know, our poor baby on the pitch and she thinks it's about her." The other answered.

y/n sucked her teeth in, Lauren fans. Lauren fans had a tendency to step too far and they either loved y/n or hated her. Most adored her, but the odd few who didn't, were the ones y/n knew how to deal with.

She got daily death threats, daily messages saying how she was using her lover, that y/n was just a naïve 20 year-old who only dated Lauren so she could get close to all the girls.

The worst was when she and Lucy Bronze, a woman who had very much become an older sister to y/n who had never had a good relationship with her single father and older brother.

She had gone over to see Lucy and Keira in Barcelona, stay with them for a few days and try and spend some time on the beach and finish the third book in her fantasy trilogy, something she wrote under a pen-name.

Photos of her and Lucy playing football on a beach arose, and suddenly the death threats increased, Lucy fans and Lauren fans suddenly appearing and hating her.

Some loved her, most did and sent lovely messages. But they didn't stick with y/n, no only the ones telling her to take her own life did. But y/n ignored them, because anyone who couldn't tell the difference between your, you're and yours would not affect her mind.

"And the fact she isn't even wearing a Chelsea shirt! Because what? She's a West Ham fan, grow up!" One of them continued.

"It must hurt poor Lauren so much." The other girl agreed.

Reece huffed, but y/n kept him facing the front, muttering to him how they were not worth it and she was not bothered by the brainless bimbos behind them.

"They're insulting you." Reece denied as the game continued to rage on.

"And I don't care. Jealousy turns people." y/n promised the man who just sighed but nodded.

A few minutes later Reece had forgotten them as Aggie Beaver Jones scored, the young blonde heading in a beautiful cross from Lauren and the Chelsea fans went crazy once again.

Half time finally blew, Chelsea 2-1 up and as Lauren moved toward the tunnel she looked over at her lover who was already watching her, the author sending her a kiss and a wink, which Lauren returned.

Reece offered to go grab some warm drinks and y/n nodded in thanks, quickly posting a photo of the crowd on her story as she watched Reece quickly disappearing.

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y/n just posted on their story

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y/n also sent a quick well done text to her lover who responded in something hardly suitable for the current moment.

to baby <3: Lauren wtf? You can't say that

baby <3: But you are my motivation tho?

to baby <3: we had sex last night??? just use your memory of what my body looks like?

baby <3: pleaseeeee

to baby <3: fine you play the best second half of your life and then yes, i will let you take the goddamn polaroids - happy?

baby <3: very :)

y/n rolled her eyes at her girlfriend, it wasn't that she didn't mind Lauren having nudes of her, it was just the idea of Lauren taking them of her on a camera seemed so stupid.

Maybe some of the things people said got to her, y/n wasn't an athlete, she tried to keep fit mainly from having too much energy and needing to actually do something before she jumped off a bridge.

She was okay looking she guessed but for some reason Lauren thought she was the most gorgeous woman on the planet, and as the girls behind her made fun of her hair again, y/n did not feel like it.

"I just, don't get Lauren's thought process." One of the girls said.

"Right? Like tits and and ass can only get you so far, why would Lauren want someone who is so clearly stupid." The other agreed, y/n rolled her eyes and as Reece came back she sighed in relief.

"Thanks Reece." y/n smiled as she took the cup of tea from him, the man promising her it was fine as they began to discuss the game, y/n ignoring the mocking giggles that came from behind her.

The final straw for Reece was when y/n flinched, one of the girls had stood up and 'fell' slightly, her hand and long nails landing harshly on y/n's shoulder as she squeezed and steadied herself.

Reece's eyes hardened and y/n tried to tell him no but he turned back around as the girl sat back down, claiming her legs were now stretched.

"Hiya, I'm Reece." Reece smiled, a dazzling smile on his face that y/n knew was reserved for his girlfriend Mia when he did something that pissed her off.

The girls practically swooned into a melted puddle at the footballers dashing grin and jumped forward to shake his hands, stating their names of Phoebe and Lottie.

"Lovely to meet you lovely ladies." Reece nodded, y/n trying not to laugh as she watched the players come back onto the pitch. "Who are you here for?" He asked.

"Oh well, my brother is Jamie Cook, the match analyst for Chelsea and he managed to kindly get us seats as I am such a big fan of your sister." Lottie explained and Reece nodded.

"Jamie. Got it." Reece smiled as the whistle blew and he turned back to the game.

"You are so bad." y/n said, but her voice was filled with amusement.

"They're really testing me, next time I won't be so nice." Reece huffed.

"He didn't even introduce her, so clearly hates her as well." Lottie whispered to her friend and y/n rolled her eyes as Reece tensed again.

"Reece." y/n warned and he rolled his eyes.

The game went past the 50th minute, the girls still making cruel digs at y/n's personality and reasoning for dating Lauren, but as her lover approached the goal again, y/n couldn't care.

"There's no way." y/n denied seeing the angle Lauren had been forced into.

"No, I agree." Reece said as Lauren shot, the ball bouncing into the net with pace.

"Never fucking mind!" y/n shouted, jumping up with Reece as the two shouted for his sister.

"Holy fuck!" Reece yelled as they got back into position, Lauren sending a wink at her brother who was stood almost squatting with his hands on his cheeks in shock.

"I have no clue how that went in." y/n said to Reece as they sat down, the game continuing. "It doesn't make sense." She adds.

"God, she won't even support her girlfriend, she's got no faith in her! That is ridiculous." Phoebe huffed.

"I know, Lauren really needs to dump her and get with someone better, like you Phebes, you would treat her so well." Lottie hums.

"Or you Lotts, you're so pretty!" Phoebe added.

"Why don't all four of us fuck it out and we'll go from there." y/n muttered under her breath making Reece choke on his drink in shock.

The man snorted again, laughing at y/n's hilarious comment, y/n began laughing at him and they shared a few more giggles while Lottie and Phoebe scoffed and huffed.

"Reece!" y/n yelled in shock as she watched Johanna fire a ball in, Lauren someone getting on the end of it and slamming in her hat-trick 8 minutes after her second goal.

y/n and Reece's voices were hoarse from their shouts of happiness, y/n slightly wincing at the idea that Lauren had definitely fulfilled her side of the bargain.

As the game wound to an end, y/n and Reece were loudly cheering with the rest of the Chelsea fans when y/n felt it, she gasped and her hand flew to her hair, Lottie's giggles covered by her hand over her mouth.

"I am so sorry I slipped." Lottie said falsely, the tea-soaked hair of y/n now dripping.

"Don't worry about it." y/n muttered, ripping her hat off from the floor from where it had 'fell' when Lottie did and y/n quickly through her hair into a messy bun, grateful for it's dark nature.

Reece's eyes had practically flamed as Lottie and Phoebe eyed y/n up one more time before making their way down to the barrier, trying to get Sam and Lauren's attention.

"What the fuck!" Reece hissed as the two moved down, Lauren nearing them before going to her fans.

"Shut up, this is Lauren's day, do not mention it." y/n warned Reece before she grinned at her lover who reached over and pulled her in for a quick peck, not wanting to go father in front of fans.

Sam moved over to Reece, the two had a good friendship and had a quick chat in hushed whispers and hands over their mouths as y/n smiled at Lauren.

"Very well played Miss James." y/n chuckled as Lauren smiled lazily.

"Does this mean?" Lauren began cheekily and y/n laughed nodding her head.

"Yes, you can do the polaroids." y/n smiled and Lauren's eyes lit up as if she had scored another goal.

Sam then came over, her arms wrapping around y/n as the woman squealed trying to shake off the sweaty footballer as Reece spoke to his sister, smiles on their faces as they talked.

Once the group were done, Lauren and Sam headed over to the fans and Reece and y/n decided to head inside where the staff were other than Emma and her assistant manager.

"Yo, Jaimie right?" Reece suddenly said, the match analyst nodding as he shook their hands. "Your sister's Lottie right?" He asked again.

"Yeah, did you meet her?" Jamie asked.

"Reece." y/n hissed, but he ignored her.

"You might wanna teach her and her friend some manners mate, spent the entire game bitching about y/n, while we were sat in front of them." Reece hisses.

Jamie's face paled and y/n sighed pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers as she tried to give herself strength as Reece continued to fume.

"Insulted her, said some honestly awful things and then shoved her and spilt tea in her hair, they're lucky it was not hot or I would have sued them for every penny." Reece continued and y/n finally stopped him.

"Okay, come on Reece." y/n said, cheeks red from embarrassment.

"No, no, it's okay. I am so sorry, Lottie can be a right brat." Jamie sighed and winced as he looked at y/n's wide eyes. "She can be awful and I am so sorry it was directed at you." Jamie added.

"It's not your fault, besides, I'm used to it." y/n adds and Reece recoils. "I am dating a loved girl, I am not surprised about some people's reactions anymore." y/n shrugged.

"That's even worse." Jamie huffs out and y/n shrugs as the three continue to talk.

Eventually, Lottie and Phoebe appeared in the room and y/n excused herself into the bathroom, Reece sending her a worried look which she brushed off as she quickly used the bathroom and walked back out.

Reece waved her over now stood by his showered and changed sister and y/n smiled as she moved over and Lauren wrapped a lazy arm around her.

Her fingertips dug into her lover's hip as Lauren pulled her into her side and chest, y/n's hand coming to rest on her chest as she tucked her head onto Lauren's shoulder, resting and listening to Reece and Lauren discuss the game.

Eventually, Lauren's fingertips dipped under the waistband of y/n's trousers, circling the soft skin as she cleared her throat and decided it was time to get going.

y/n nodded absentmindedly, smiling as Sam noticed they were leaving and bounded over to y/n, the striker hugging her tightly and the two exchanging goodbyes and see you tomorrow's as Sam and Millie were coming round for dinner.

Emma made her way over, once again congratulating Lauren on her performance and explaining she would see her tomorrow briefly for recovery.

Emma then quickly hugged y/n, the blonde asking her if she was okay and y/n sighed glaring at Reece who had snuck him and his sister away and were now talking to Jamie.

"They won't be coming back." Emma promises y/n but the woman shakes her head.

"Emma I'm fine, they just like Lauren, can't blame them." y/n promises.

"Saying and doing the things they did makes the the opposite of Chelsea fans y/n, you're apart of this family, like it or not Hammer." Emma promises and y/n laughs.

Emma had a good connection with y/n the second the two met, Emma already liked her due to the clear effect she had on Lauren but also because she respected the young woman.

The young girl hadn't been born with the best situation, an ill mother and the a passed on one, a single father who did his best and a brother who she didn't get on with.

y/n left when she was 18 and never looked back and neither did her brother or father, and y/n always said that didn't matter, that her father did his best but they just hadn't gelled, but Emma always wondered on that.

Because of that Emma hadn't been able to help the motherly roll she took on with the 20 year old who was just 19 when she met her. The now best-selling uni student had proved many times she had everyone else's best interests at heart and sometimes Emma told her off for that.

"I'm guessing Reece told you?" y/n asked but Emma shook her head.

"No, Fran did." Emma hums and y/n furrows her brows. "Oh, Fran told me who was told by Millie, who was told by Sam, who was told by Reece." Emma explains and y/n sighs.

"What about don't tell does that man not understand?" y/n questions and Emma chuckles as y/n's eyes widen, Phoebe and Lottie now appearing next to Jamie, Lauren and Reece.

"Uh oh." Emma says as Lauren starts speaking, y/n hugs the woman once more before rushing over and stepping between Lottie and Lauren.

"Baby, didn't you say something about leaving?" y/n asked Lauren but the brunette just hummed.

"I was actually just talking to Phoebe and Lottie about how they won't ever be coming to a Chelsea game again." Lauren explains.

"What?" Lottie asks confused.

"Oh don't worry, it's all been okayed by Emma and the board, anyone who speaks about my girl like that just won't be allowed in." Lauren says simply before nodding her head at Jamie and clasping his hand in a handshake.

Lauren's hand slips into the back pocket of y/n's trousers as she grabs her bag and Reece kicks up the ball into his hands and nods at the girls before Lauren guides her lover out the door.

Reece bursts into peals of laughter as they make their way into the car park but whines when y/n slaps his arm lightly.

"I told you not to tell her." y/n hisses but Reece just shrugs.

"I didn't, I told Sam." Reece shrugs.

"And Sam told me." Lauren adds as she unlocks her car, opening the boot.

"You two are going to give me grey hairs." y/n scoffs as Reece chuckles and kisses her head before getting in the drivers seat, he was insured on Lauren's car and liked to drive her back after matches if he came to watch.

Lauren shuts the boot, now bag-less and her hands find y/n's hips and she pulls her lover in, y/n's hands land on Lauren's shoulders, slightly shocked at the tight grip.

"No one speaks about you, to you or acts like that around you baby. Not on my fucking watch okay?" Lauren asks and y/n nods. "I love you so much." She adds, her head resting against y/n's forehead.

"I love you too Lauren." y/n says quietly.

Lauren bends down, pulling y/n's body tight to her own as she presses her lips harshly against y/n's and quickly settling her tongue into y/n's mouth.

y/n was slightly shocked as she gripped Lauren's shoulders tightly to keep herself upright. Lauren wasn't big on PDA, the two shared grins, maybe an air kiss or a quick peck, but never had Lauren kissed her like this where someone else could see.

The two were relaxed people and while they would usually be touching one another, never had a kiss of this ferocity been so public for the two before.

"Oi Oi!" The call from Sam Kerr echoed as she and a few teammates whooped at the two as y/n hid herself into Lauren's chest. The footballer chuckled and flipped them off.

"In the car baby." Lauren hummed, her hand tapping y/n's bum lightly.

"Okay." y/n breathed, a squeak in her voice as she rushed into the car, Reece snorting and poking at her red cheeks as Lauren got into the passenger seat.

"Alright y/n/n?" Reece chuckled as he began to pull away.

"Shut up and drive James." y/n huffed and the James siblings chuckled.

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y/n just posted on their story x2

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y/n had her head happily on Lauren's shoulder, the empty plates on the coffee table in front of them as they sat watching the TV, Lauren's arm was wrapped around her, drawing lazy shapes on the small amount of skin she could get her finger on.

"You did so well today baby." y/n said quietly. "I was so proud." She added.

Lauren looked down, a soft look in her eye as she watched her lover whose eyes gleamed up at her proudly. The warmth from her statement filled Lauren.

"You kept calm, you were calculated." y/n continues, sitting back up slightly so she could see Lauren without having to tip her head up.

Lauren's hand fell from her sliver of waist to the inside of where her thigh met her knee. Lauren's fingers gripped there, sometimes finding it hard to ground herself when her girlfriend said such meaningful things.

"You really will be the best player in the world Lauren James." y/n says softly, her fingers resting over Lauren's hand. "As long as you keep that attitude in check." She adds.

Lauren lets out a light chuckle, but she reaches over and pulls her lover onto her lap, the 20-year-old letting out a quiet 'weeee' as Lauren did so.

y/n's legs fell either side of Lauren's hips, straddling her as Lauren's hands came to run up and down her sides, the dip in her waists, the skin at her hips.

"I love you." Lauren said quietly, she was never as good with words as y/n was, but y/n knew that those three words meant just as much.

"I love you too." y/n whispers to Lauren, her hand coming up to hold her lover's face softly.

Lauren lent up, her mouth capturing her lover's as her hands pushed against y/n's back, her strength pressing y/n down and her legs wider.

The strength and speed of the kiss was nothing like the innocent words just shared as Lauren poured her soul into y/n's with her lips. Her hands sunk down and rested on the curve of y/n's ass, one of her favourite parts.

As y/n went to move for air, Lauren's hand came down harshly on her, the slap echoing the living room even through her joggers. A mixture of a gasp and moan jumped from y/n's throat as she understood.

y/n did not stop the kiss, Lauren's warning spank had been enough to let her know that air would be a luxury in this moment and y/n continued pouring her being into the kiss.

The two parted and y/n heaved a breath into her burning lungs, Lauren's teeth latching onto her ear-lobe, y/n groaned and Lauren moved her soft kisses down the skin of her lover's neck.

Lauren smirked as y/n's breathing sped up, her hips pushing themselves onto Lauren's, but the footballer easily shifted her so her lover was grinding on her thigh.

The friction between y/n's legs made her sigh in relief and Lauren smiled against her neck before digging her teeth into the skin which sat there begging to be marked.

"I am going to put the plates in the dishwasher, I want you on the bed, in that black lace set from Boux Avenue when I get there." Lauren whispers.

y/n couldn't help the moan which fell from her lips as she nodded her head, Lauren's teeth tightening on her neck for a moment before pressing an innocent kiss there.

"Go." Lauren added before y/n was off and Lauren soon followed with a slight grin, but not before swiping her polaroid camera from the counter.

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END...

part two out soon (probs not cause i’m so bad at updating lmaooooo ;)

had to post this cause lauren deserves sm love and i’m so sick of seeing all the hate and the ignorance abt the hate not being racially motivated - grow up in our world and you realise so much more is racially motivated than you think.

lauren’s actions are not excusable but neither is the hate

we talk about how there is a different vocabulary for men and women but there is also a different vocabulary for white and black people

if you get offended by me saying this then i’m sorry baby but you part of the problem

stay safe and stay aware 💙

-

queenie x

[ac3may]

Smile, Darlin’ (Millie Bright x Reader)

Just a little something I wrote for fun. Feel free to give feedback, it's appreciated actually. And let me know if you want more I guess??

Prompt: “Smile Darlin’”

Words: 1.5k

Masterlist

Having a professional footballer for a partner was incredible. You love Millie, you love her career, you love being in the crowd to support her, and you especially love the small displays of affection she sends you from the pitch. 

What you didn’t love so much though was the fact that it was all fake! You and Millie had met on a night out in Ibiza, she was celebrating her Euros win with a couple of teammates while you were in the country for a friend's hen do. You had met at the bar, where she complimented your alcohol choice of the night, you complimented her dress and the night ended with you both stumbling onto the beach. Sharing a bottle of vodka and divulging your deepest secrets. 

You admitted to your frustration of everyone around you constantly asking when you would settle down, especially as many of your friends had now gotten married and begun families. Millie followed your confession with a will for people (specifically the media) to get over the fact she had split from her ex whom she had been in a publicly recognised relationship. 

When you awoke the next morning Millie was nowhere to be seen but a resort-branded towel was gently nestled under your head and her jacket from the night before draped across your shoulders. 

You didn’t see Millie again until your final day, you had been catching the last few rays of Spanish sun you could when a figure shaded you from the heat. “Um, excuse me?” You’d said, annoyed by the interruption. 

“Sorry, I err, have been trying to find you.” Immediately you recognised the voice of the blonde whom you had been enamoured with and your eyes snapped open beneath your sunglasses. 

“Millie?” you asked curiously, desperate to know your imagination wasn’t playing tricks on you. 

“You know it,” she winked. 

That afternoon changed your future as you knew it, that afternoon the hottest girl you had met all holiday offered to be your girlfriend… in public. 

Millie presented you with the suggestion of fake dating, you would have a date to weddings, baby showers, and parties, and she would have someone to show off online and fawn over after games, therefore deterring her negative media attention. 

That is how you ended up here, sitting miserably, guarding the drinks in the club booth while watching the entirety of the Chelsea Women’s team and their partners on the dance floor. 

You swirl the ice around your empty glass before placing it down. As you do so a sweaty but smiling Sam Kerr joins you at the table, Kristie hanging from her waist equally as smiley. 

“Come on Y/N!” The Aussie shouts gleefully, “join us on the dance floor, Mills is all lonely without you!” She finishes with a feigned pout as if to express your ‘girlfriends’ disappointment all you do is raise your eyebrows. 

“Oh really? She doesn’t look all that lonely to me.” You mutter, darting your eyes towards the blonde at the edge of the dance floor where she is chatting up a group of two men and a woman. 

“What?” Kristie yells evidently inebriated and having not heard your low tone. 

Snapping your eyes from Millie you respond loudly to the couple.“I gotta guard the drinks and save the booth!” 

“Ya a bore!” Sam yells, laughing at you before the two disappear to the bar for more drinks. 

Continuing your pity party you move my eyes from Millie flirting with every living being in sight and begin searching for each of the girls in the crowd. 

As you laid eyes on Erin Cuthbert to add to your count you jump in surprise at the arm which suddenly makes an appearance across your shoulder. Turning yourself to meet bright blue eyes which cause you to sigh internally. 

“Smile, darlin’! We’re celebrating!” Despite your misery, your heart still skips a beat at her voice. “Come dance with me!” She insists, childishly pulling on your hand. You shake your head no, holding strong in your will to avoid the drunken crowd. 

Disappointed in your response Millie rests her chin on your shoulder. Your stomach fills with butterflies as her lips brush at your ear. “I know you can move Y/N/N,” she whispers sultry, “I’ve seen those hips,” she smirks, hands dropping to grip them, squeezing softly. 

In a moment of weakness, you melt back into her, sighing peacefully. But Millie takes your silence as a yes and your peace is broken as she tugs you from the booth. Hands laced as she drags you across the dance floor and towards the group you had seen her with earlier. 

You roll your eyes as she introduces you, not bothering to recall their names but definitely catching the smirk and wink exchange between her and the other girl. You immediately jerk your hand from your not-girlfriend. 

“I’m getting a drink,” you snarl and before anyone can argue you’ve disappeared from the dance floor. Instead of heading towards the bar, you find your way to the bathrooms. Making it into a stall you flip down the lid and take a seat, pulling your knees to your chest and burying your face in them. 

You take a deep breath before finally allowing the tears to spill over, the stress of the act finally overwhelming you. 

It can’t have been more than twenty minutes when you hear doors slamming and rushed footsteps entering the room. “Y/N! Y/N!” You furrow your brows as your name finds your ears. A fist banging on all the stall doors and shouts from many drunken girls bothered by the chaos filling the room. 

When a door knock comes from the wood in front of you it is accompanied by a vulnerable sigh as the fist slides, dropping limp. “Y/N?” 

You utter whatever sound you can and clear your throat before eventually reaching forward to unlock the door, causing a head of blonde hair to stumble into the stall with you. 

Seeing the tear tracks running down your face Millie lets out a gasp her hand reaching to rest against your cheek, your head twitches back in response and she sighs. 

“Shut the door,” you mutter, when she doesn’t make a move you snap, “shut the door!” Frantically Millie closes and locks the door behind her.

The following moves the defender makes are slow and cautious as she crouches down in front of you, tentatively resting a palm on your thighs. 

“What’s wrong Y/N? Talk to me, baby,” she sighs. The use of such a romantic nickname is the hit which breaks down the dam holding back the pool of frustration which had been growing inside you for months. 

“THAT!” You rage, standing abruptly pulling her up and hitting her in the chest with real aggression but no true force. “That is what’s wrong! All of it! The loving names! The light brushes of fingertips! The fake dates! The fake everything!” 

Millie pulls you tightly to her chest mid-rant. Slowly the harshness of your tone slowly diminishes, and tears begin to follow the tracks down your cheeks again. Millie’s continued silence is killing you but eventually, you buck up the courage to glance up through your lashes at her. 

“Mills?” You ask hesitantly, “Can you say something? Please?” Your soft tone catches her attention causing her to turn her head towards you, eyes shining with guilty tears. 

“Is that,” she takes a moment and clears her throat, “is that really what you think?” She blinks down at you, eyes wide as she holds you close and you mutter your response. 

“Well, what else am I supposed to think? This is all fake.” Millie winces and you falter, “Isn’t it?” Moving to cup your face again this time you don’t bat away the delicate hands which caress your skin and allow her thumb to soothe over your cheek. 

“Y/N L/N I am in love with you.” Millie makes the claim as simple as breathing and, for the first time since that night on the beach, everything felt easy. 

“You? You what?” You gasp, disbelievingly. “What about that girl back there?” you accuse, finger pointing vaguely towards the door. 

Smoothing out the lines of confusion on your forehead lightly she explains, “she’s straight,” Millie chuckles before continuing, “and I spent all night telling her about my gorgeous, fantastic, all-around brilliant girl who I was scared to admit my feelings for.” You gape speechlessly. Eyes shining in admiration as you rest your chin on her chest to look up at her.

 “I.” She pecks your forehead. 

“Love.” Your nose. 

“You!” 

She hesitates minutely but you give her the smallest of nods and within seconds she is crashing her lips into yours. It’s slow and gentle and dream-like. 

Everything you had hoped for from the blonde defender. But not something you thought you’d ever break the barriers to get. 

Pulling back, breathlessly you flutter your eyes open to meet Millie’s, lips falling open in confession, “I love you too. I always have.” 

[redeyedroid]

A lot of the great rivalries in sport aren’t really. We create narratives and imagine storylines that don’t really fit the reality. Serena beat Maria Sharapova twenty times and lost twice, but their contrived rivalry has it’s own Wikipedia page. Tennis’s Big Four was really Federer, Nadal and Djokovic far ahead of Andy Murray, who was just as far ahead of everyone else (unless we’re talking Olympic gold medals, of which Murray has twice as many as the other three combined.) Stephen Hendry crushed Jimmy White in snooker final after snooker final. Nikki Lauda won twenty-five Grands Prix and three Formula 1 titles; James Hunt ten and one. There’s a decent movie about them that makes it look more even than it was. At the end of fourteen of the last twenty series, Australia’s men have held the Ashes and England's women haven't done much better (though, to be fair here, there's a galaxy of more stories to it than that). And so on. Equals that go through long phases of being very unequal. Or never were. 

But there are some rivalries between objective unequals that don’t play out the way they should.  

First played in 1872, the oldest fixture in international football is England versus Scotland. England have won the World Cup (which – in my Scottish opinion - really should come with an asterisk or two attached). They were beaten finalists at the last Euros (to be Scottish about it again, they do best when they rig the draw so they can play all their matches at home, at Wembley). They aim at finals, semi-finals. Grudge matches against Germany and Argentina and big ones against France or Brazil. 

Scotland have never played a knock-out match at a tournament. Our men have only qualified for one in the last quarter-century (though, unlike our neighbours, who have decades of penalty pain to look back on, we are perfect in shootouts.) Only one Scot, Kim Little, has ever scored the winning goal in a full international against Brazil. Our men have never beaten them. On the global stage, most often we lose and most often we fail, because that is what we have always done.  

Our players are collectively not as good as England’s. Even our good players are undervalued. Andy Robertson, probably the best left-back in world football over the past five years, cost Liverpool £8m. The most expensive transfer involving a Scot was the £27m Arsenal paid Celtic for Kieran Tierney. Chelsea paid PSV £30m recently for an uncapped English player called Nomi Madueke. Nobody would be surprised if it turned out he's actually a Football Manager regen. Prising the equally uncapped and not very good Englishman Aaron Wan-Bissaka from Crystal Palace cost Manchester United £50m.

Before she moved to Real Madrid, the absurdly good playmaking midfielder, Caroline Weir would regularly – casually - dominate matches in the WSL for Manchester City, racking up a collection of goals that by rights, should have won her at least one Puskas Award. 

(I didn't fuck up the links. The last two are different goals.) 

But it would feel like precious little footage of her, or Kim Little, or Erin Cuthbert would make it into promos or prematch coverage that preferred to feature far less talented English players..  

England: a team world famous multi-millionaires playing the biggest matches on the biggest stages.

Scotland: not often – if ever – that. 

And yet, 150 years of history gives an all-time record in men's football of 48 England wins, 41 Scotland wins, and 24 draws. 195 goals for England. 171 for Scotland. The last game, played at Wembley in 2021 during the pandemic-delayed Euro 2020 ended 0-0, with Scotland having the best of it. 

I think – and I probably am very wrong - this is because there’s a difference in how the match is perceived these days. As the gap in talent has grown in one direction, the gap in attitude has grown in the opposite.

Before that match in 2021, Rio Ferdinand was on English coverage saying, "It’s a huge game. I can’t wait. Nothing to fear, and we will go down and get our seat and watch it. Looking forward to it. England are going to win. I can’t see anything else, I’m telling you. I’ve never been this confident about a game in a major championship." 

Meanwhile, on the Scottish feed, they were showing this: 

We used to play annually, but those days are gone and it feels like the English have moved on, that the fixture stil matters to them only because of history and because the Gammonscenti among them are upset that a lot of Scots want independence and the breakup of the United Kingdom. But, on the whole, they aim higher and a game against Scotland doesn’t live in their heads the way it does for Scotland.

For Scotland, there is only England. When we don’t play them, we live in perpetual annoyance at anglocentric TV coverage during tournaments we aren’t even at. When we do make it, we get more annoyed, because – fairly or not – we feel we’re treated as afterthoughts by broadcasters that ostensibly cover the whole UK. And so, England must lose. Preferably to us, but anyone is acceptable. We’re fuelled by grievances real and imagined; schadenfreude; a desire to see the ruin of our enemies; and a weird sporting inferiority complex that affects the whole country.

(And, let’s be honest, that fucking song was tedious when it was released in 1996, long before it was shorn of all nuance by the hordes of pink-faced cretins who only know three words of it).

If England were playing the Fascist Red Spiders From Mars, most Scottish football fans would be sitting there, rooting desperately for the Fascist Red Spiders. 

It matters to England because it matters to Scotland, but they underestimate how much it matters to us. Because, pathetically, we have nothing else. 

On September 12 the men’s teams will play a friendly at Hampden in Glasgow to celebrate the 150th anniversary of the Scottish Football Association. On the 22nd, the women’s teams play in the Nation’s League. England should win both. They are better teams with better players. And it’ll hurt if they do. But it won’t be because the Scots haven’t performed, haven’t given their best. Somewhere in their preparation, someone will have pointed out that “It’s fuckin' England. Let’s get intae these cunts” and they'll come out looking like they’re about to chib someone. 

(No, really. Set Robertson to malky!) 

If England show up thinking that it’s a foregone conclusion, or that they can roll substitutions, or that they need to avoid injury ahead of their Champions League game next week, they’ll find themselves in trouble. They have more than enough class to win, but the Scots have the fight.