#sam kerr being protective

[samkerrworshipper]

togetherness pt.3 | matilda’s x reader

lowkey have come to detest this series chase i started it in first person and i no longer write in that format butttt some of yall want it so i have to supply 🤷‍♀️

warnings/themes: self harm implications, talks of past sexual abuse, lots of trauma, comfort, just general sadness tbh

As we pulled up to our own hotel Sam and Steph were smiling like idiots, joking about something or another. I was lost in thought, thinking about everything that had just happened. My haze was cut short though as my door was opened for me and Sam stood on the outside, waiting for me to hop out. I unclicked my seatbelt hurriedly before climbing out of the car and ducking behind the car to grab my bag quickly. My coping mechanism was to grab my phone out of my pocket and to start to scroll through it as I waited on Sam and Steph to collect their own things. My phone was my social crutch, when I felt awkward it was what I leant to.

“Kiddo, let’s go?”

My head was pulled from my phone as I came to the realisation Sam and Steph had both collected their belongings and were walking towards the front of the hotel, Steph passing her car keys off to the valet. I scurried after the two older women, my behaviour was oddly skittish and I was sure the both of them were picking up on it.

We flashed our ID cards at the front desk before making our way into the team front room where we left our kit bags, just so there was no confusion of them in the rooms. We all individually stowed away our bags, collecting whatever essentials we needed from our bags before leaving them in their spots for the night. I grabbed my drink bottle, my airpods and my ugg boots from my bag before walking over to the food table, it was the table where they left all the snacks that were there to be taken at any time of the day. I picked up a packet of gummy bears instead of a granola bar, Leah wouldn’t have been happy with my switch but I wasn’t eating a granola bar so it was an improvement?

After grabbing the bag of gummy bears, filling up my water bottle and grabbing a bottle of gatorade I followed Steph and Sam towards the elevators, waiting patiently as they clicked the button for our floor. They conversed between the two of them as we went up in the elevator, just general stuff.

“So Y/n/n, we’ll go get Steph’s stuff and we’ll bring it into your room and we’ll move whatever of your stuff is there into my room, okay?”

I nodded at Sam, excepting that this was happening.

As the doors opened I found myself following behind them as they walked towards their room. I followed them into the room as Sam unlocked it with her keycard. The room was similar if not identical to Ellie’s and I’s. Two, matching queen beds, a joining ensuite and two reasonable sized wardrobes. Steph very quickly packed her stuff up, throwing it all into her bags before procuring Sam’s help to move it down the hall. I wordlessly unlocked the door to formerly Ellie and I’s room. When we walked in Ellie was already in there, sitting on her bed, cuddled up in a pile of blankets and sweatshirts. She looked like she’d been crying and I found a part of me feeling bad for her. She was a good person, a person who had been through a lot considering her age.

“Y/n, can we talk?”

I couldn’t find it in me, even with the guilt riding through my body to look at her eyes. I knew that they’d betray me, that I’d no longer be able to be mad at her or annoyed if I was forced to look into those eyes.

“Ellie, how about we try this tomorrow morning? Y/n/n's tired, she’s not feeling too well.”

Steph’s voice was pretty forceful but Ellie found room to rebut.

“I just want to talk to her for fucks sakes, I deserve that at least before my fucking roommate is uprooted.”

I jumped back at Ellie’s harsh tone, finding myself in Sam’s personal space bubble. She didn’t flinch back at my sudden intrusion, instead pushed one of her own arms to my side, steadying me slightly.

“Ellie Maddison, you have already caused yourself enough trouble for one night, I would stop now. I already told you, Y/n/n isn’t feeling up to it. We can try this in the morning, if she wants. We wouldn’t be uprooting her if it wasn’t for you two behaving like three year olds. You both need sleep, not more petty arguing that is going to get us nowhere. Y/n, grab your things, we can talk this all out in the morning, both Sam and I are too tired to put up with any more of it.”

I scurried to collect my bag, I’d never really unpacked so it wasn’t hard. I just grabbed my pillow, bag, phone charger and backpack before scrambling my way out of the room. Sam helped me to haul my big bag down the hallway and into her room.

As soon as we closed the door behind us I could feel a part of me break, the part that broke inside of me every night when I crawled under the covers of my hotel bed or I collapsed on the floor of the ensuite. The vulnerable part of my soul that had never been prepared for this, never prepared for fame or attention. I mean as a kid I’d shied away from it as much as I could, kid Y/n was an insecure, anxious mess who had no idea what she wanted, that part of me was still the same.

“Do you need help unpacking? Steph had housekeeping come in today and clean our sheets so the beds are all clean, I try to keep fairly organised and clean but just a disclaimer that there are some stories about me sleep-talking that I neither deny or confirm.”

“I think I should be fine to put it all away, thank you though.”

Sam smiled at me and nodded, it seemed like there was something else hanging off of the tip of her tongue that she was deciding whether or not to say.

“Okay then, I’m just going to have a quick shower, I do not apologise if I start to sing, it’s a canon event.”

I snorted and nodded Sam’s way as I watched her dip into the ensuite. I set myself the task of firstly, getting changed. I clawed off my layers of matilda gear and very quickly changed into a pair of Qantas pyjamas that we’d gotten on our flight to Sydney, they were fresh and unopened and everything about them seemed comfortable. After I was done getting changed I set myself the task of stowing my bag away on my side of the wardrobe, I didn’t do much more than that, I didn’t really want to unpack right now. So I did a very quick version of my skincare routine and then climbed into my bed. It was comfy, the same as my one in the other room except it just felt different. Once I’d properly situated myself in the pillows I grabbed out my phone and started to scroll on instagram.

It was safe to say that when I was in a bag head space I spiralled a lot.

So when I was in the dumps about a bad game I would often find myself reverting to the hate pages on the internet. The internet is a fucked up place. Some of the things that strangers are willing to put out in the world about a person they don’t know is fucked. It was still a bad habit of mine though to constantly look at those posts.

Leah was always confiscating my phone after bad games, after bad days. She knew me too well, knew how when I got wrapped up in my own head there was nothing to do besides just be there for me. I fiddled anxiously as I flicked through the countless news articles that had been posted. The Australian had a particular hatred for me, had since I was a rookie and since they’d found some photos of me doing drugs back when I was a teenager and published it on the front cover of the Saturday papers. I’d had a particular shared hatred back at them after that. They had a field day every time I had a bad game, I was pretty much the leading lady of page 6. Our game last Saturday had been no different, one wrong kick and I was washed up and cracking under the pressure. The slew of twitter pages and reddit links that I’d been sent after that had been enough to make anyone feel sick to their stomach.

That was why I think I’d gotten roomed with Ellie, she was probably the most hated in the media on the team besides me. I think Sam had thought maybe we’d bond over it but neither of us were vulnerable enough to talk to the other about it. So it had just stewed between the both of us and honestly probably made it worse than it should have been.

“I don’t think I have ever seen a person in such an intense staring competition with their phone.”

I squealed as Sam very stealthily grabbed my phone from my own hands. I immediately sprung up, trying to retrieve it from her hands, I hadn’t had the opportunity to lock it.

“What are you hiding?”

I saw Sam’s interest peak as I fought intensely to grab my phone back. She held it above her head and I might have been taller than her but I couldn’t for the life of me manage to retrieve it from her hands even as I attempted to use her body as a climbing frame. After a few jumps and attempts I gave up, collapsing back into my bed and covering my body and head with the sheets and duvet. The room stayed silent as Sam did the inevitable and looked through my phone screen.

“Y/n.”

Her voice was even and I felt her bodyweight sink down onto the spot at the bottom of my bed. I felt her arms work their way up to the top of the duvet and slowly try to pry them out of my own hands. She succeeded fairly quickly, smiling at me as my face was revealed to the light of our hotel suite.

“There’s that pretty face, no need to be ashamed honey. You ought to not read into what Roger writes, he hates anything to do with women's sports, especially women who are succeeding so heavily at such a young age. You shouldn’t let your mental image of yourself be contorted by words written by a person who doesn’t know you or care about you, don’t do that to yourself, you deserve better.”

I looked at Sam, in all of her glory, sitting above me, an old nike shirt that looked like it had been washed 600 times. Her hair was brushed smoothly back into her classic low pony. It made me cry. Not sobbing crying, just wet, fat tears dripping down my face as I thought about that article. I could probably quote most of the journalist's work, I’d read it over and over and over.

“Come on now, don’t cry, please. You’ve done enough crying for tonight, don’t make me tickle you.”

Sam’s eyebrow rose in challenge as she stared down at me, silently challenging me to keep going. When I did, her hands found their way to my sides and started to tickle me intensely. I immediately let out a choken laugh, trying to suppress my giggles and cries.

“S-Sam stop ittt. S’ not fair.”

She smirked at me as she continued her abuse of my sides.

“Stop crying then, c’mon, there are better things to do with your time then cry over bullshit. I know Williamson would have my head if she knew that I was letting her girl get down in the dumps over something that’s out of your control. I am telling you now, honestly, your whole career there is always going to be someone who is going to try and take you down, journalists, social media, other players. It’s wrong, but we are women in a field that is predominantly presumed to be male dominated, we aren’t appreciated, we’re underpaid and we are slaughtered in the press for anything. The more you feed into it the worse it’s going to get, and I understand that the other stuff isn’t going to just go away but it is going to eventually get better, I promise you that.”

“You promise?”

Sam rolled her eyes and extended her pinky towards me.

“I pinky promise.”

I rolled my eyes at the cliche but interlocked my own pinky finger in hers and shook it. Sam reached down to wipe the tears from my face and smiled at me, a little glint in her eye.

“Now, I think it’s about time we got you tucked in, it’s been a big day for you.”

“I’m not tired.”

Sam rolled her eyes at my immediate defiance and plonked herself down next to me on the bed, resting beside me against the headboard. She lazily placed one of her arms around my shoulder, there was something so simple but complex about the whole situation.

“Do I need to explain to you the importance of getting eight hours?”

“This feels like one of those captain moments where you try and mom me into doing something that’s not going to happen.”

Sam snorted at my reply, nodding her head concedingly.

“Is the defiance just a young people thing or do you just enjoy being a pain in the ass?”

“There’s no fun in it if I agree to everything you tell me to do.”

Sam’s eyes damn near rolled into the back of her head.

“Is it hard using defiance as a defence mechanism constantly?”

The question took me back a little bit, it hadn’t been what I was expecting. She’d turned a pretty mild conversation into something deep so quickly that it took me a few seconds to recover.

“I don’t use defiance as a defence mechanism.”

My voice wavered a little bit, just enough for doubt to seep in.

“Yes you do.”

Sam’s voice was so matter of a fact, like she knew me better than I knew myself.

“No, I don’t.”

“You push everyone out, you don’t listen to anyone who is trying to help you out, you do things that are harmful to yourself without caring, you play with injuries, you put yourself in harms way a little bit to often, you hide your emotions, I could keep listing off if I wanted to.”

I hated how right Sam was, how observant she was, it made me queasy.

“Okay, so I do some of those things, but that doesn’t make it a defence mechanism.”

“What does it make it then? A form of self harm? A form of punishment? I think you’ve punished yourself enough, when does it all become enough, when in the mind of Y/n do you atone for your sins? Because from where I’m looking at it you are leading yourself in the direction of a cliff's edge and you aren't going to stop until you are over that cliff.”

I gulped, unsure of what to say to my skipper, because I couldn’t lie to her, not for the life of me but I also wasn’t going to sit here and listen to her pretty much tell me that I was suicidal or something.

“You don’t know what I’ve done or who I’ve hurt to get here.”

“I know you're a good kid, with a good heart and if Williamson decided to take a shot with you then you have to be worth it. I know you carry baggage, a lot more than you’ll ever tell anyone, some things that you don’t even tell Leah. I have my inferences, I know things are rough with your family, always has been. I know you're hard on yourself, far too hard on yourself considering you are nineteen. I know that you never saw yourself here, never saw yourself as being capable of being here and now that you are you are having an identity crisis because you are secretly terrified that you are never going to be good enough to be here, even though you are. You’re hurting a lot, I know roughly what you're doing to self soothe, it’s not good and I’m worried about you, all of us are.”

I bit down on my lip, staring out at the wall in front of me, unsure of what to say to Sam, because she was right in so many ways but her words were also like a stab in my heart, because until someone is telling you about your behaviours I don’t think it subconsciously sinks in.

“Something to think about, I’m always here kid, if you ever need to talk, or need help, or just someone to keep you company then I’m here, whatever you need.”

“I didn’t ever plan on being a professional football player,” I snorted in between my words, realising I was actually about to go down this path with my captain, a woman who had pioneered womens sport in Australia, “This sounds stupid but all I ever wanted growing up was to own a cattle station, wanted to live the humble life out on the farm. I know that sounds so stupid, because it’s so simple. But I never planned for this, I never wanted this. My parents put me into football and gymnastics when I was six and I was good at them, really good and it was for fun so it was fine. Then it wasn’t for fun and I was playing in national teams and olympic qualifiers. Then I broke my back falling off of a beam and I was happy, I was glad, because it meant that I could do what I wanted. Then I was in the party scene and everything was good, until it wasn’t. Then my parents were shipping me off to the AIS and I didn’t have a say. Next thing I’m here and I’m doing this and I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong. But a part of me never wanted this and I know that’s bad of me to say because there are thousands of girls who would die for my spot but it’s the truth.”

I took a deep breath as I finished up my spew of words, it was a lot, I wasn’t an oversharer, most of it was probably word vomit but there was something about Sam that just made me feel comfortable with being vulnerable, I didn’t know what it was.

“That’s not stupid, having dreams isn’t stupid and it’s okay for you to be upset that you didn’t get what you wanted. You have a gift Y/n, the way that you play on the field is truly exceptional and I am telling you now that if you want to be the best professional footballer, then you can. You could be one of the best players in the game, better than me or any other player on this team, I believe that whole-heartedly. You deserve that, if you want it. If you start to make healthier decisions for yourself, decisions that don’t harm you. When was the last time you ate a proper meal? The last time you took time out of your day to look after yourself? How long until it starts to seriously harm you? Do I need to tell you how dangerous it is for a professional athlete to not be looking after their body, you are important Y/n, and so is your health.”

I fiddled with a loose thread that was protruding from the doona below me. My captain's words were sinking in, deep, like a tattoo. Etching its way into my skin, painfully.

“I am fine, our doctors have had no issues with clearing me, I eat and I do look after myself.”

My justification was weak, it was in my voice and in my mannerism. My statement just wasn’t believable, as much as I was trying to push it.

“So you know how to pass a medical test? I’d expect you too considering you fooled Tony the whole time you were at the AIS that you weren’t using. I’ve heard the story, it just proves to me that you know how to get around testing.”

Fuck. Fuck. It wasn’t surprising Sam knew my history with drugs, I mean anyone who read the papers knew, it wasn’t private information. I was clean now, four years and proud of it. I’d had a bumpy road to recovery but I’d gotten there with time.

“I can look after myself.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“See, as soon as anyone tries to care for you, you close up.”

“I don’t close up. I just don’t respond to being interrogated.”

“You aren’t being interrogated.”

“Sure seems like it.”

“That’s a bit overdramatic, all I am trying to do is care for you, something you are adamant on avoiding.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, because I couldn’t deny Sam in what she was saying, I did push people out who tried to care for me. Long ago Leah had accepted there were some parts of me that I was never going to be able to talk to her about, that was why she’d forced me into seeing a therapist.

“I don’t need you to care for me.”

“The scars on your thighs say otherwise.”

I blinked for a few seconds, taking a deep gulp as the words that Sam had just said set in, had she actually gone there? Had she actually just said that.

“That was a low fucking blow.”

Sam was clearly taken aback by her own words, it had clearly just spilled out of her. Sam was no filter, so it had come to me as no surprise that she frequently blurted, just the fact she’d said that though hit me deep.

“I’m not wrong.”

I could feel tears stemming at the back of my eyes, at the realisation that I was about to have this conversation.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Does Leah know?”

“She’s had her queries, she doesn’t push it.”

“She doesn’t push the fact that you cut yourself?”

If her previous words hadn’t hit hard, those ones had, because those words, that assumption, that accusation was so confronting.

“It’s not like that.”

“Explain to me what it’s like then.”

I pushed Sam’s arm off of my shoulder, feeling like I need a more face to face conversation. I pushed myself off of the bed head, so I was sitting between Sam’s two legs, my legs crossed. It was vulnerable for me, just talking to someone about my feelings was vulnerable for me.

“When I was 15, when I gave up the drugs. I was in a lot of pain, I hated myself. It wasn’t easy, I mean I was trying pretty much everything I could to get injured. I got arrested for speeding underage twice, both times Tony had to bail me out. I was just a mess, so I started to hurt myself, to stop myself from seriously injuring myself. It was the only thing that I could do that would make me feel better, the only thing that I could turn to when shit got real. So it became my thing, then I turned pro and I stopped for a while, especially when Leah started to get on my case about it but then we got to training camp and it was all too much so I started again and I know it’s a bad habit and it’s serious but Sam, I wouldn’t be here right now without it.”

“Are you suicidal?”

It was a question I definitely wasn’t prepared for.

“I’ve had suicidal thoughts over the years, I’ve had my fair share of bad moments but no, I’m not suicidal. I don’t do it because I want to die, I do it because it gives me relief, from life, from football, from stress. For me it's an outlet, when life gets hard that’s how I deal with it. It's unhealthy but it’s what works for me and I know that it’s bad but it’s what works.”

Sam nodded at me, there was a certain softness to her words and features the more I spoke to her, the more barriers that I let go. Sam’s own hand found its way to my bicep, silently comforting me and telling me to stop rambling.

“I get it. You do what you have to do to survive, and there is nothing wrong with that. You do what you have to do to get through the day. You’re not broken. This isn’t something to be embarrassed about or guilty for. You are still a child Y/n, in so many ways. The world is hard sometimes, what we do is hard sometimes, we all have needs. You scavenge for anything that helps you to get through because you want to survive, you want to be ok. Then it works, so you continue to survive. Good for you, you figured out how to survive. You don’t need to spend everyday in survival mode anymore though, you have love in your life that prevents the constant need to survive.

The words burnt my soul and I could feel the tears brimming up again. I hated crying.

“You’re living your old life Y/n/n. But it’s done, it’s over. You get to have the good things that you never had, you can meditate, or go on holiday, you can read books, you can learn a new language, you can learn how to live in a way where you don’t have to hurt to handle all of the things that scare you. No shame, just growth, okay. You don’t have to hide in your ensuite at night by yourself, like you taught yourself to do to survive, am I clear?”

Sam’s eyes bored down into my soul, her words were so strong and definite.

“You’re going to call me, or Leah, or your therapist next time you feel like doing it, that’s an order. You are going to call one of us, call me, and I’ll talk to you, I’ll talk to you for however long it takes for you to understand that this,”

Sam’s hand fell down to my thigh, where we both knew the scars laid, underneath my sweats,

“Isn’t the solution, not anymore, we’re leaving it in the past. This isn’t your way to survive anymore, from now on you aren’t going to just survive, we are going to make you live, I promise you that. From here on out you are going to live, and enjoy living. I am going to try my hardest to keep to that promise, but you need to as well. Promise me you are going to try and do more than just survive, because this shit in the press, it sucks, but it’s going to go away and once it does you are going to be lost, you are going to struggle and that fight that you put in everyday to be here, it’s not going to be as present and when that happens, when all of the outside threats are denominated you are going to hit rock bottom, there’s one positive of hitting rock bottom though, there’s only one way up and when you realise that you have the potential to go upwards and you want to, life is going to get better.”

“Y’know I get why Polks and De Vanna recommended you for captain.”

My words were said with tears and snot running down my face, with the realisation that right now, I was being held accountable for my shit and it was a hard realisation. My captain's words had hit home for me with the realisation that there wasn’t room for me to behave like I previously had.

“I try my best, I expect you to do the same. This relationship, this situation, it doesn’t work if you aren’t prepared to put the work in, if you aren’t prepared to hit rock bottom and work upwards from there. When you do hit that bottom, I want you to call me, tell me you’ve had a bad day, or don’t, talk, or listen, whatever you need.”

I nodded at Sam.

“I am going to try.”

She smiled at me and nodded, all encouragement and comfort.

“Okay then, okay. Come here kid,”

Sam opened her arms for me and I collapsed into them, grateful for just the warmth and comfort of Sam’s arms. I understood why all of the girls gravitated to her, why they seeked her out so often. She understood, she didn’t judge, she listened and then she gave advice, good advice, meaningful advice. One of her hands went to my back, gently rubbing across the nooks and valleys along my back. The other hand reached to the nape of my neck, gently twisting and brushing out the hairs that laid at the beginning of my hairline. I lent into her touch, silently finding so much comfort in her actions.

“M’ sorry, sorry that I didn’t come to you earlier.”

“It’s okay kid, I understand, you were scared and you didn’t know who you could talk to about that. What’s important is you know now, you know that I am always here for when you need help and I expect you to come to me from now on, no more hiding and struggling in silence, okay?”

I nodded into Sam’s arms, just silently finding so much peace and solace in being held. I hadn’t been held in months, not since I’d been with Leah and the last few months with Leah had been hard to say the least. She’d done her ACL, and it wasn’t anybody's fault, I hadn’t been prepared for it though. Both Leah and I were going through rough patches and neither of us were prepared to look after another human being besides ourselves. There had been countless nights between the two of us spent crying and fighting with each other. It was rough, we’d worked through it though. It was hard though, and a part of me felt guilty for not being okay, and a part of me felt like Leah was going through so much worse than me and I could never burden her with my stupid problems.

“Now, I think it is definitely time that we get you tucked in and asleep, I won’t take any arguments, you look like you could sleep for days if you needed.”

I just nodded at Sam, any fight, any defiance that had been in my body was gone, I just didn’t have it in me. She was right, I was tired, I’d hardly slept the whole world cup. I was an insomniac, so that was to blame partially, partially I also just didn’t feel safe sleeping. Ellie was always on the phone with her girlfriend, when she wasn’t she was trying to talk to me or do yoga or something. She’d also been slaughtered in the press most of the tournament, it was messing with her, everyone could tell. Her techniques for combatting her anxiety about it though was annoying to say the least, being the younger one in the situation I didn’t have the confidence to tell her that her habits were fucking annoying to say the least.

I didn’t fight back as Sam gently laid me down on my bed, pulling the covers up over my body and very gently tucking me in.

“Have a good sleep, kid.”

She smiled at me and I smiled back.

“You too cap, thank you, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

Sam patted me on the head, giving me her signature smirk.

“It’s no trouble, now get some sleep yeah, I need you to be coherent for tomorrow.”

I nodded along with Sam’s statement, watching as she got up off of my bed and walked towards the light switch, turning it off before jumping into her own bed. She rustled around in her sheets for a few minutes before finding her spot, a few minutes after the rustling ended I heard her breath slow and even out, indicating that she’d fallen asleep.

The situation was not the same for me, it took me a few hours to fall asleep and once I did I only slept for two hours, it was fitful sleep, very light and not very good. I laid in bed for a while before deciding around 5 that I was going to go for a run. I got up as quietly as I could, throwing on a pair of shorts and a sports bra. Once I’d gotten dressed I picked out my pair of running sneakers before creeping my way out of the hotel room and trying my very hardest to keep my steps silent as I walked down the hallway and into the elevators that took me down to the lobby. Our hotel was about 200 metres from the beach, so I made the decision I would take my morning run along the beach.

It was still dark out as I made my way out onto the main road and started my jog down to the water's edge. The sun probably wouldn’t rise before I came home. I planned to do about ten km, the beach was around 4 or so long so If I ran up and then down I would probably do about that. As soon as I got down to the waters edge I started to run properly.

Running had been one of my releases since I was 12. Whenever I was angry I went for a run, when I ran everything stopped. It was just me and the music that I had running through my headphones. It felt the same as I set my pace along the sand, like all of the fucking mayhem from the past twenty four hours was just mellowing out, becoming background noise. If I could always be running I would. The only time I ever felt like I was myself was when I was running. The feeling of your heart pounding against your chest, the feeling of your breath hurting in your throat and the dryness in your throat. As I ran the sun slowly started to rise, slowly climbing along the horizon. I made it about three quarters of the way before I ran into someone, one of the last people I wanted to be seeing.

For a second I wasn’t quite sure who it was, they were the only other person on the beach, standing along the shoreline. As I sprinted my way back to my starting spot the body slowly started to become bigger and the fear in my gut slowly grew. I couldn’t make out much more than their body, with the lack of lighting present in the room. As I slowly approached though, more features slowly started to become more recognisable and I silently screamed internally as I realised who exactly was.

As I approached them I slowed my pace, down to a slow jog, almost a walk. I slowly approached them and internally froze as they turned to face me. Fuck.

“It’s a nice morning.”

Lucy’s face was stone serious, and her words didn’t reflect the general attitude that she seemed to hold.

“So you're enjoying the motherland, then, the sunrises are unbeatable.”

“I’d be enjoying it more if I hadn’t been pulled out of my bed at 5am this morning to come and find you because Kerr texted Leah saying you’d disappeared and she didn’t know where to.”

“I’m allowed to go on a run.”

“You didn’t leave a note, after having what I’ve perceived as a fairly rough twenty four hours.”

“I don’t need the lecture.”

“La Reina wouldn’t have a bar of this attitude.”

“Alexia isn’t here.”

“It could be arranged, if I deem you in need of some attitude adjustment.”

I braced myself in front of Lucy, she was a scary woman. When I’d started in the WSL I’d originally been selected by Barcelona, then after half a season I’d been traded to Arsenal. I’d liked it at Barca, if I hadn't been traded I probably would have still been there, Barca was good, when I’d gotten there I had been a basket case, it had been what I’d needed. I was 17 at the time, and had no idea what I’d wanted, Barca had taught me how to wake up every morning and do something with life.

Lucy opened her arms up to me and I let myself fall into them, letting the older woman embrace me. Her arms were strong and they hugged me to her tightly, comfortingly, in the way that a mother would embrace their child. That was what Barca had given me, a good relationship with people that were like substitutes for my mom.

“It’s good to see you, Luce.”

“It’s good to see you as well kid, although I would have preferred it to be under different circumstances.”

She released me from her arms and sat herself down on the sand, nodding at me to sit down next to her. I followed suit, so we were both sitting on the sand, looking out at the sunrise.

“You’ve been doing it again.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about.”

“I don’t want to tell Ale that you’re lying to me as well.”

I crossed my arms across my chest in frustration, grumbling at Lucy.

“She’s not even my captain anymore.”

“She’s still the woman who took you under her wing, she’s your blood, mija.”

I pursed my lips and looked out at the horizon, the sun was truly rising now, the bright pink and oranges mixing into a tie dye across the sky.

“How’d you know I was going to be down here.”

“Just a hunch, I know how much you like your runs.”

“I wasn’t running away or anything, I just needed to think.”

One of Lucy’s arms fell over my shoulders, it was heavy but so soft at the same time.

“I know mi amor, you should have told someone where you were going though, especially considering the events of the last few hours, you worried a lot of people.”

“Leah told you?”

“She told me she was worried about you, that you had a lot on your plate right now, more than a 19 year old should be handling.”

I pursed my lips again, Lucy’s words were so pensive, so calculated but present at the same time. It was bizarre.

“I, just, this world cup, it was supposed to be the defining moment in my career, when I proved to everyone that I was as good, if not better than everyone else they were comparing me too. But I haven’t been performing, the press hates me, I just can’t catch a break.”

“Sounds like you need a sabbatical.”

I snorted a little bit at Lucy’s words.

“I’m serious, you know, after this, you should take some weeks off. Leah needs it as well, go somewhere, wherever your heart feels like you need to be and just live, or learn to live. Turn your phone off, eat as much as you want, exercise as little or as much as you want, just let yourself be happy, without everyone else, without football, without social media and other people. Learn to love yourself.”

I’d been handed so much emotional advice over the last few hours, it was a lot to absorb, a lot to think about.

“I miss La Reina, I miss Barca.”

“I know mi amor, but you have to be here, you have to be in London. It’s what you are destined to be doing, Ale and us all miss you but you are doing such good things where you are.”

“Your taking me back to the hotel, aren’t you?”

Lucy nodded at me sadly and I took one final deep breath before lifting myself off the sand and dusting any remnants of it off of my clothing. I helped Lucy up and then we both started to walk towards the beach exit.

“I’ll be there to watch you tomorrow, Kei, Leah and I. Play for us yeah? Make us proud.”

The walk back to the hotel was rather sullen, both Lucy and I staying fairly silent, her guiding me to the doors with a hand secured on my lower back. When we got to the door I gave her a hug before parting ways and stepping into the lobby. The team room was a little bit more alive then it had been when I’d walked through earlier in the morning. Kat, Harper, Charli and Ky were all awake, having breakfast together, as well as a few of the other veterans. I made my way through the lobby as quickly as I could, I couldn’t be bothered with talking to anyone.

When I did get back to my room, I was very surprised to find Sam, Steph, Haley and Alanna waiting for me. I was the first person to speak, slipping off my shoes next to the door and breaking the tension.

“Isn’t it a bit early for a mothers group meeting?”

[hoe4sports]

Harm

Leah Williamson x reader ft Sam Kerr

A/n: Been battling this huge writes block for a month now. If you have any tips on out to get rid of it, send help. You need to use your imagination on this bby

Warning: Angry Sam

Summary: You and your ex-wife struggle co-parenting

-

You look at your watch.

18.53.

It’s now 1 long hour and 53 whole minutes since your ex wife, Sam, was supposed to come pick up your daughter for the weekend.

You don’t really know why you thought it would be different this time, it’s always been like this. From the moment you found her tangled up in her best-friends arms at your home, she’s been someone else. Someone you don’t recognise.

It’s none of your business anymore. You know that she parties and drinks, probably more than what’s healthy. And you know that it’s always a new girl. It’s always the same type of girl too, partygirls.

It’s the same never ending cycle. She gets a girlfriend, then she cheats on her with some random girl that she eventually ends up dating before the cycle repeats itself.

A part of you wants to take your daughter away from her. To never let her see her again. You’re her mom, you are supposed to protect her from harm. But, what do you do when the harm is her own ma?

“Still not heard from her?” Leah hums, her voice coming from behind your back.

You sigh at her while closing the blinds again, letting the last bit of hope disappear. The tears are now pressing in your eyes. You feel defeated. Leah immediately wraps you in her arms.

“Shh, it’s okay, we’ll sort this out” she reassures you. You nod while sniffing into her shirt, standing it with tears.

Your daughter coos from her little bouncer, kicking her feet with excitement. Her toothless grin spreading on her face. You can’t help it, but to turn your head to look at her. She brings a smile to your face. Her similarities to Sam aren’t there anymore. She’s growing into her own person. She has copied down Leah’s smile, just like babies does. Your hair, and your eyes. Not a single piece of Sam left in her. It eases your heart, it makes you feel less sad about your cheating ex-wife.

She cheated when you were just 1 week into your first attempt at getting pregnant. You didn’t leave at first, you did everything you could to salvage it. There wasn’t a single solution that you hadn’t tried. But she didn’t even try. The reality of the situation was that it fell through your hands like sand.

You don’t really understand why it happened. Why she chose her newfound best-friend over her wife and her daughter. It’s something you was forced come to terms with, but that you will never find in your heart to understand or forgive. Perhaps, it’s more that you have accepted the situation without being able to fully grasp the aspects of it.

Leah pulls away from the hug after giving you a kiss on the head. She moves towards your daughter, Ella, and scoops her up in her arms. Ella lets out a big yawn when she feels the comfort of Leah’s arms, settling in comfortably.

“I think that someone is up way beyond her bedtime, isn’t she?” She coos at the little baby in her arms. The sight of them makes your gaze soften, and your body relax. You can’t help it, but smile. They share something special, you just know it. Their bond is unique.

“Should we go upstairs to go night-night, huh Ellabear?” Leah asks as she leans down to kiss your daughter‘s forehead.

“Would you mind putting her down, baby? I think I need a minute..” you excuse to Leah, offering a sad smile.

You know that she’s more than happy to put her down. In fact, she’s been more than happy to put her down since even before she was born. Always excited for all the milestones you reached. Always there, always present.

Leah nods at you before taking Ella’s little hand to wave at you, you smile sadly back at them before they disappear up the staircase of your home.

You look at your watch again. 19.06. It’s been over two hours. That’s where you decide that she has missed her shot for the weekend. You move to the kitchen to find your backpack with your pencils. You reach for your notes before writing down the details around the yet again, missed agreement.

The divorce was messy. Sam wanted the baby. You refused. She pushed for visitation, and time with her daughter in court. You refused. But, Sam somehow ended up winning the case. Of course she did. She hired the best lawyers money could buy. It made your blood boil. Your lawyer recommended that you would write down every time she didn’t pick up Ella, and the details around missed visits.

Leah’s footsteps were soon to be heard coming down the staircase. Her hands eventually placed on your shoulders, lightly providing you with a gentle massage.

“How are you feeling, darling?” Leah’s voice hums. Her soft tone makes your body relax towards her frame.

“I’m just, hm, I think I feel disappointed for Ella. I know she won’t remember this, but the guilt is eating me alive.”

Leah wraps her arms around your waist before turning you to face her. Your eyes meets her, and you share a moment of silence while embracing each other.

“Ella is safe, she’s fed, she’s warm, she’s dry and she has a mommy and a Leah that loves her so much” Leah whispers in your ear.

The statement makes you feel safe, like you are the luckiest girl in the world to have Leah to lean on. To have someone step up to the responsibility when Sam failed. Leah didn’t have to, she had absolutely no obligations. But she still stayed.

“She has a mommy and a mama” you mumble into her arms, “you and me”.

Leah hums in response before your hands intertwine. Your heartbeat slows down, and your breathing softens. It feels safe. It’s feels warm. It’s like your mind unconsciously knows that you and Leah are building the foundation of a future marriage.

Her sincerity and warmth has you drawn to her. How she’s fair, how she never lets anyone get away with anything and how she is protective of what’s hers. You know that she will defend you to the end of the world, even if that means defending you when you are wrong. It’s one of her core values, to never embarrass you infront of others by arguing or correcting you.

Then, there is a knock on the door. The moment fades, and the memory is ruined by the continuous hammering on your door. Your heartbeat fastens again, and your breathing feels quicker and shallow.

You look over at Leah, and see that her fists are turning white. It’s only fair. You would feel that way too if you had something to outpower Sam. But you don’t. She’s taller, stronger, faster and more assertive than what you are.

The banging doesn’t stop, and soon enough you hear Ella’s scared cries in her bedroom through the baby-call hanging around Leah’s neck.

Leah looks at you and urges her head towards the door.

Normally you handle moments like this. But you are just so tired of it. Of Sam showing up drunk or hangover, demanding her daughter to be brought to her. It always scares you. Sometimes, you have nightmares about it. That someday, she’ll drive over drunk and get away with your baby. The kind of nightmares that only can be calmed by seeing that Ella is safe and having Leah holding you while softly stroking your back.

Leah looks at you again while nodding towards the door. The banging is still loud. This time, you can hear Sam’s voice through the door.

“For fucks same, give me my daughter. It’s my weekend! I know that you are awake”

You shake your head violently before tears swell in your eyes. You cannot find it in you to deal with Sam tonight.

“Go” Leah whispers while pointing upstairs. Your eyes widen.

“But what if she hurt-“

“I’m stronger and taller, I’m gonna be fine. Go calm Ella down, and I’ll be there soon, okay?” Leah urges moving towards the door.

You nod rapidly before going for a beeline up the stairs. You hear the door open up as you move upwards.

“Leah? Get me my kid will you” Sam commands.

Leah crosses her arms while looking firmly into her eyes.

“No, it’s past bedtime. She’s sleeping, or was before you scared her”.

“Nah, listen mate, this doesn’t involve you” Sam laughs before pushing towards the door.

Leah pushes Sam away from the entrance before grabbing the handle.

“I pay for the diapers, the clothes, the food. I put her to bed, I wake up with her at night and I wake up with her in the morning. I give her kisses and hugs, and I give her baths. What do you do?”

Sam looks at Leah with a gaze in shock.

“I, uh, I.. This is ridiculous, can I come and get her? It’ll be quick”

Leah grabs the door handle, and closes the door. But before she completely closes it, she looks Sam straight in her eyes.

“No, I suggest you leave before I call the police on trespassing.”

[cheriladycl01]

I’m in absolute awe with your writing, I’ve sat here reading so many.

I have an idea for a fic -

lando x Beckham!reader. Reader is playing in the grand final and it’s the Beckham family cheering and they pan the camera to her family bc she scores and they see Lando sitting, cheering and chatting with them so after they decide to hard launch

Chelsea vs Manchester City - Lando Norris x Beckham Reader

Plot: a football match couldn’t be the reason to hard launch a relationship… right?

It was the final match of the season and you were up against Manchester City. Your family had of course come to watch you. It was the first time your whole family was there. Usually it just happened to be your twin brother Romeo and your dad. But today you had Brooklyn, Cruz, Harper, Romeo and your mum and dad.

Your boyfriend, F1 driver Lando Norris had also managed to come to your game. This was a surprise and you didn’t actually know he was coming, but with him and Romeo being good friends they’d organised the little surprise for you.

It was 15 minutes into the match and you were yelling to your team-mate Lauren to pass the ball to you, one of the Man-City girls was blocking you but as the ball was kicked in our direction you ran forward for the ball, kicking it back to Lauren running further up the pitch to the goal as its passed back to you.

You are in the zone, you foot breezes through the air and drives into the ball and before you can blink its in the back of the net.

1-0 to Chelsea.

Your team-mates all come up to you pulling you into a celebratory hug shaking your shoulders and one of them evening lifting you up into a hug. You cheer loudly practically screaming.

“And what an incredible goal that was, Lauren James and Y/N Y/L/N, what a dynamic duo they are! Honestly their team work is impeccable” one of the commentators for Sky Sports sounds just as the TV pans to your family. Not that you see that as your too busy celebrating with your team.

It shows Romeo and your dad embrace while Harper and your mother cheer with some polite claps for you. Brooklyn and Cruz are like hooligans jumping up and down chanting your name. Lando also gets shown on camera, and all that can be said is that when the camera replays his reaction along with the rest of your family when the goal went in he looked like a typical British lad at a football match a massive cheer and aggressive yet passionate smile on his face before turning to celebrate with your family.

“Here is the Beckhams family, such an iconic name, all of them here to support Y/N and we also have McLaren F1 Driver Lando Norris with her family. Obviously we’ve seen he’s friends with Romeo Beckham, Y/n’s twin but that was an incredibly passionate reaction for a driver who says he doesn’t involve himself in football as much anymore” a commentator adds, as your family’s celebration is shown.

“So Lando, you like watching my sister?” Romeo asked as he leaned over to Lando who was avidly watching his sister.

“Well, she is my girlfriend mate” he laughs taking his eyes off you for a split second to look at Romeo.

“Your smitten and it’s fucking disgusting” Romeo gags looking at Lando with a harsh expression.

“Calm down man, I might be part of the family one day” he teases elbowing his friend.

“Regrettably I think you already are. Mum and dad love you. Cruz is obsessed with you more than my sister… Harper loves the gifts you bring her and Brooklyn enjoys your convos. I hate to say it but you’re a Beckham” he laughs, he loved that his sister had actually ended up with Lando, he was a good friend and someone he could trust with his twin. Someone he was insanely protective over.

The match continues, Man City equalise just 5 minute before halftime. Sam Kerr your teammate scored one minute before, just after you got a yellow card that had both you and your family crying out in protest. You to the ref and your family just to one another.

Everyone could see the unhappy look on Lando’s face as he complained to your dad and brother.

After halftime break where you spoke about strategy and how to keep up the effectiveness going forward it was back out onto the pitch for all of you.

You scored another goal, making the scores 3-1 and before you knew it time was up and you were celebrating with your girls the win of the championship. You also were excited as this was your’s and Lauren’s chance to get onto the English Women’s Team.

After you showered and got out of your sweaty kit you went out to find your family and boyfriend. The first person you saw was your dad and you ran up to him pulling him into a massive hug.

“There she is, my little star!” Your dad cries holding you tightly against him. The rest of your family hug and kiss you, making it known just how proud they are of you. Lando was the final face you turned to see. Your family of course knew about the two of you and had seen you two interact in the family house and when you all went out for dinner.

He pulled you in for a soft kiss, Cruz and Harper immediately teasing you about it while Romeo cringes away.

“Lan, please that’s my twin sister” he cringes and looks between the two of you who have now finally pulled away from each other.

“Awwww leave them Romeo, I see myself and your father in them, but even more romantic” your mother smiles and you cannot help the big goofy grin that comes over you face.

“So, I may have been on TV, I’m kind of famous now!” He grins and Brooklyn and your dad laugh at his joke.

“Haha very funny baby” you laugh sarcastically and look at the rest of your family who have slowly started to back away to leave you and Lando alone.

“Where are you guys going? I thought we were all going to dinner and then me, Brooklyn, Cruz, Romeo and Lando were going to the club to celebrate?” You ask as they all look to one another debating who was going to explain.

“Yes, but we’ll meet you there. Lando’s driving you and Romeo!” Your mother starts and before you can even ask where Romeo is going if he was going in the car with you.

“Before you say anything I’m going to the toilet. That game was riveting and I couldn’t leave my seat, okay? I’ll meet you at the car” Romeo says before jogging of round the corner. The rest of your family also left and you were left with Lando, standing hand in hand.

“Baby have you seen twitter since the match?” He asks his brows slightly furrowed and a nervous aura around him.

“No, I haven’t why? Has something happened?” You ask looking over him, checking out his know awkward body language.

“Well, we are … sort of trending because I was sat with you family, people think we’re dating now.”

“Well, we are dating…” you giggle and he nods slowly.

“I know, and we’ve been dating for a while and I just wanted to know if maybe you thought it was time we … hard launch?” He blurts out and you just keep smiling at your silly boyfriend who looks so nervous asking you this. Anyone else would think he was proposing to you right now.

“Yes, let’s do it!” You smile at him squeezing his hand.

“R-really?” He asks and you nod, pulling him in and kissing his cheek.

“Yes baby.” You nod.

y/user

Liked by landonorris, romeobeckham and others

y/user: It’s been an incredible weekend. Loved getting to share the win and championship with my family 🏎️⚽️

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landonorris: I love you baby, so so proud ❤️

-> y/user: love you infinite amounts 😩

user1: see how Y/N considers Lando part of her family? Very cutesy, very demure 🏎️🌸

romeobeckham: THATS MY TWIN, sick stuff Y/N 👩🏼‍🍳

-> y/user: you next!

user2: HARDLAUNCH Y/N! Is that you and Lan after the match?

-> y/user: yeah he gave me the biggest hug! 🎀

-> user2: OMG QUEEN REPLIED?

davidbeckham: Dad is proud hunny! You did amazing stuff out there today 🤙🏼✅

mclaren: Will you exchange Blue for Papaya for a race? 💙<🧡

-> y/user: depends on the offer admin 👀

-> landonorris: BABY! You were supposed to say yes! 😩🧡

oscarpiastri: can’t wait to see you at the next race!

Instagram Story Caption

THATS MY GURLS 🌸💕🐷🎀🤙🏼

landonorris

Liked by y/n, oscarpiastri and others

landonorris: So … this is mine now apparently? She’s non-refundable 🫣💙

View all comments

y/user: excuse me? 🥺

-> landonorris: I joke I joke! I love you baby 🫣💙

lewishamilton: amazing win y/n and congrats you guys.

danielricciardo: it’s about damn time, I been hearing all his bitchin and whinin and pinin

-> visacashapprb: Daniel, Admin are requesting you kindly take this down

maxverstappen1: Well done mate. You managed it 🤙🏼

Instagram Story Caption

LOOK AT MY GIRLFRIEND RN 🥺🌸

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[trulyhblue]

MISS AUSTRALIA (PART TWO)

Katie McCabe x Aussie! Chelsea! Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, jealousy, praise kink, semi-public sex, coarse language, Chelsea mentions, little age gap, humiliation, drinking.

Masterlist

______________________________

You don't know what coerced you to spend the night in Katie McCabe's bed, but it felt amazing.

Chelsea's loss against Arsenal sent shockwaves through the WSL side of social media, with a skyrocket of tweets spreading the news regarding the Blue's greatest defeat in five years.

It was not a surprise to see your name mentioned in thousands of these messages, and your connotation to Katie hadn't seemed to surprise anyone either. Lots of people were reeling over the interactions between the two of you on the field, but you wondered what their reaction would be if they found out what happened off the pitch.

Somehow, you didn't want to know.

Despite the thrashing you received from Emma, you, Jessie, Erin, Millie, Sam, and Guro all found yourselves in a pub in North London. It seemed hypocritical — the location — but the vibes were good, and it was a well-known, crowded bar, so the chances of you being seen were slim to none.

While Jessie was the designated driver for you that night, the rest of the girls didn't hesitate to start drinking. You were playing with the straw of your third vodka cranberry, savouring the taste between your teeth, smiling at the quips and jokes the girls would pose, checking the time on your phone as the hours passed later in the night.

"I just know I'm going to regret this tomorrow." Guro sighed, shooting down the last of her drink before standing up. "My shout now, what do you all want?"

Sam and Millie ordered a bulk of shots. Jessie and Erin chose the drinks they had before. You shook your head towards Guro, lifting your half-full drink that you were still nursing.

Sam wrapped an arm around your shoulder, waving Guro off. "You've been on the same drink for an hour. C'mon, have a shot with me."

You glanced across the table to find Erin shuffling a deck of cards. Jessie was on her phone, leaving you sandwiched between Bright and Kerr. You were a football player, an athlete, but you weren't as bulky as your two Chelsea companions. You tried hard in the gym, and anyone could tell that it paid off, but too many drinks would sway you in the wrong direction.

"Are you old enough to drink?" Millie asked, half sincerely, ruffling your hair when you gave her a pointed glare. "I'm only joking, Kid."

"I'm twenty-two. I just like taking care of my body." You spoke with a huff, throwing your arms over your chest, eyes dancing between your two skippers.

"Oh, and all those hickeys are taking care of you, are they?" Guro retorted, Erin's smirk matching hers as she returned with the tray of drinks. You watched her slide a shot towards you, which you took instantly at the looming eyes on your neck from your Australian Captain.

"Since when were those there?" She swooped, her hand reaching out to poke at the marks. You hissed, the exposed blotches still sensitive, shrinking in your seat as all five of your teammates caught your reddening cheeks.

"Fresh ones, eh?" Millie grinned.

While the girls found this new susceptible mystery a highlight of the night, Sam continued to prod at the marks, her protectiveness prominent by the furrow in her eyebrows.

"Who gave you those?" She let out, and you felt your face flame up.

"I'm not talking about it."

"You didn't have them this morning." Guro quipped, earning Jessie to push her scoldingly, feeling slightly sorry for the interrogation you were receiving.

"Jesus, y/n/n, I didn't know you had it in ya—"

"— had what in her?" A voice called out from beside the table, making each of your friends move their eyes away from you and to the source.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, you thought. Great, just your luck.

Katie was standing behind Beth, who was linking elbows with Jordon Nobbs. Caitlin, Leah, and Steph all stood among them, Steph being the one who spoke.

"Nothing. Where's Ky?" You sounded, your voice meek underneath the prying Arsenal eyes.

"Wrong side of London, Skipper." Caitlin laughed.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Good drinks, though."

You shuffled across the lounge you were sitting on, attempting to maneuver yourself over Jessie's lap to escape. You felt a hand grip the back of your skirt, causing you to plop on one of Jessie's legs.

"You can't just avoid the conversation."

"Sammy, stop." You squirmed over Jessie, who used her hands to lift your waist up. "Where's Kyra?" You asked again, hopelessly avoiding the Irish woman's levering eyes. She was watching Jessie's hand on your waist; how her fingers played with the hem of your top as you battled to fight Sam's hand away. Katie noticed how Jessie spread her legs out, engulfing your body weight more comfortably, as if she was used to having you in that position.

The Irish woman wanted to mock the playful whines that left your lips as everyone questioned what the two Australians were fighting over. She caught sight of the bruise she had left under your ear, recalling the heavy whines and desperate breaths that followed as her lips lapped over the delicate skin. The mark offered Katie some comfort in your current situation. The grand display of pink smearing across your freckled cheeks was admirable to most, but Katie found you much more pleasurable when you beat red at the sound of her voice, when you were grinding against her knee, not Fleming's.

"She went to the bathroom, I think." Beth Mead spoke, her friendly, maternal smile glowing back at you. "Actually, she could be anywhere. 'Can never sit still, that girl."

"Alright, let me go check."

You didn't wait for anyone to stop you, stumbling off Jess' lap, head spinning from the alcohol running through your system. You could handle your liquor to some extent, but it was after this that you went beyond tipsy. Your journey to the bathroom was quick, wasting no time to find your best friend, wherever she may be.

The cubicles were all empty. You tried calling out her name, calling her on your phone, but the little shit didn't answer. The pub was now reeling with people, with all levels of tipsy and drunk being shown by the dancing of the crowd. You were struggling to find your way back to your girls, forgetting the way you came. You gave up trying after five minutes, turning around and opening the bathroom doors once more.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, pushing and pinning you against one of the cubicle doors. It slammed shut, your back planted against the wood. You felt your hands fondle together, your heart racing at the hungry, lustful eyes of the woman in front of you. Her breath fanned over your face, causing your lips to fall agape, a loss of words leaving you speechless. It wasn't long until Katie's lips were on your neck, this time on the opposite side, nibbling on your pulse point.

"You really can't hold it in, can you?" She uttered, her accent rasping as she spoke. You groaned at the notion of her fingers latching onto the top you were wearing, tugging it in warning before discarding it on the floor.

"What?" You sighed, hands wrapping around Katie's neck as she lifted you up, gripping your thighs as they swathed around her waist.

"On Fleming's lap, Kerr's hand on your arse. Are you always so desperate for attention?"

She wasted no time in moving her lips down to your breasts, freeing one of her hands from your thigh to massage the one she wasn't sucking.

"Katie—"

"Shut up."

You grind your hips against hers, hoping it will relieve the growing tension between your legs. With your bra still on, Katie laughs at your flushed state, pushing up the fabric of your skirt so it would bunch up against your hips.

"Did you shake everyone's hands?" She asked, her lips leaving your chest to move up to your face. She hadn't ever properly kissed you, so she made sure to hover as she waited for a reply, her fingers slowly squeezing the column of your neck.

You nodded, still trying to gain some friction, but were met with nothing. The only noise that came from your lips was a whine. Katie shook her head, kneading your thigh as she rubbed her nose up against yours. The action was intimate, but somehow Katie found a way to make it sensual.

“Use your words, Baby.” She made a point of tapping your neck with her finger, toying with your skirt as her hand crept up your thigh.

“I- mh… I did, Katie.”

“Good Girl.” She whispered, and you pushed your lips forward to catch the girl in a kiss. You were grateful she reciprocated with just as much force, asserting her dominance by bringing her hand up to your lips, dragging your bottom lip down, making you audibly cry out.

“You like that, do you?” She chuckled, her hand inching closer to your heat. “Had to shake everyone’s hands before getting off on my thigh, didn't you? Had to make sure you did as you were told.”

“Katie, please—”

“But good girls don't sit on other people’s laps, do they Baby?” She whispered, ghosting her hand over your underwear. “Answer me.”

“No, Katie.”

You pushed your head back against the door, groaning as Katie ran one of her fingers through your folds teasingly. Your legs gave way, no longer trying to hold yourself up around Katie’s waist. Despite the lack of warning, the Irish woman wasn't fazed at the sudden shift, instead using it to her advantage.

“Look at you… so desperate for attention. Is that why you landed on top of me today? Bent over for me and everything in a sold-out stadium weren't you?”

You felt her hand rub your clit, making you squirm. “You tripped me.” It was a whisper, but Katie heard it all the same.

Her eyebrows raised. “I did. But you went off before I could show everyone how well you could take me.”

Without warning, she slipped two of her fingers into you, gnawing at your neck as she thrust in and out of you rhythmically. You moaned, and blushed furiously because of it.

“Does Fleming touch you like this?”

“Can you fuck off about Jessie for one second?”

Katie scoffed, adding another finger, inserting her fingers into you until her knuckles were kneading your clit. You moaned at the sting, crying out when Katie didn't wait for you to adjust. She did this for a while, and you felt the coil in your stomach churn as she curled her fingers inside of you, slamming them as deep as she could, resonant and rigid strokes leaving you writhing in ecstasy.

“Katie— Katie—”

She stopped, her fingers leaving you clenching around nothing. You were so close, feeling your high fizzle out the moment her fingers moved to her lips.

“I asked you a fucking question. ‘Spose you just get too dumb when you're being fucked.”

You whined, your hands clawing her biceps, beyond annoyed by the way she left you. “I- Jess and I are friends.”

“I bet Fleming wasn't too happy when you scored that double against her in the World Cup.”

You gaped at Katie, legs shaking and lips puffy. “You definitely weren't when I scored against you.”

Katie was off you now, standing against the bathroom sink, watching as you tried to fix your skirt.

“What happened today then, hm? Miss Australia lost her touch as soon as she was bent over.”

“Stop calling me that. And I wasn't bent over, you tripped me!”

“Did I tell ‘ya to fix your skirt?” She ordered, crossing her arms over her chest when you sauntered in front of her.

“You’re not the boss of me, McCabe.”

“Then how ‘bout you show me some personal autonomy and get yourself off?” She quipped, lust flooding her eyes. She propped herself on the sink, watching intently as your eyes widened at her suggestion. It seemed that all of your prior confidence had dispersed.

“I'm not doing that in here.” You muttered, suddenly repentant of the setting you were in.

“You nearly just came on my fingers. What's the difference?”

Whatever dominance you seemed to gain over Katie didn't work, the woman making no sign of backing down from her proposition.

“I— Katie… I'm not going to beg.”

She simply hummed, causing you to sigh. You were desperate for a release ever since that afternoon when you had been too stubborn to get off her knee, feeling the desperation of your hormones haunt you ever since. The thought of getting yourself off in front of the girl you hated so much made you squirm. The thought of someone walking in and seeing such an illustrative sight would've sent you into a frenzy.

But all of these thoughts dispersed at the sight of Katie in front of you, leaning against the mirror with her signature smirk. You reeled in the jumper she was wearing that hit the veins and muscles of her arms you always looked at during games. You noticed the crumple of her trousers, where you had inevitably been. Her hair was sweaty, her cheeks tinted at the sight of your unruliness. It made you repent. It made you want Katie even more.

“I want you.” You stated matter of factly, walking forward so that you were standing in between her legs.

“Do you now?” She looked down at you possessively, pretending to be in deep thought.

You nodded. She leaned in, taking hold of your chin. “Beg for it, Baby.”

She moved down from her place on the counter, dragging you to face the mirror. Pushing your hips against the cool marble surface, you watched as Katie caged your figure, sucking gently on your shoulder, taking her sweet time to reach your preexisting hickeys.

“Please, Katie, I need you so bad.” You whined, feeling her hips grind into you from behind. “I need you, you— you make me feel so good. Want you really bad.”

“Mhm, what else, baby?” She continued to place wet, sloppy kisses up your neck, licking across the new bruises, smirking at the mess she was turning you into.

“Wanna feel you inside of me. Wanna cum so hard from your fingers and your mouth, everything. Just want you to touch me, use me. Please use me, Baby, I‘ll do anything.”

The nickname she had been calling you fell from your lips before you had the chance to stop yourself. You knew that Katie would never let you live this down, but, for utterly selfish reasons, you made sure your voice was extra whiny, extra innocent, hoping your plea would help you get off.

Katie stopped kissing you, turning you around and smashing her lips up against yours. You knew your begging had worked when her fingers worked their way back into your underwear. When she entered two of her fingers this time, you weren't surprised at the lack of warning. Instead, you relished the feeling of pleasure shivering through your body. You moaned as her knuckles grazed over your clit, her hips pushing her further into the counter, making you lean back on your elbows.

“Bent back for you, Baby.” You moaned, hoping she’d keep going if you were louder. “I want to be— wanna be good.”

“That's it, nice and loud for me. Wanted me so bad you needed to beg. Good girls get rewards; don't they, baby girl?”

You groaned as she pounded into you relentlessly, her spare hand holding your hips in place as you neared your high. Katie felt your walls clench around her fingers, the wet juices of your arousal squelching in and out, coating Katie’s fingers. The sound of your wetness, alongside your moans, echoed throughout the bathroom, earning Katie to groan and the smell of sex surrounding you two.

“I’m— close.” You chocked out, feeling your clit grow sensitive as Katie’s knuckles pinched it hard.

Katie groaned, the sight of her head falling back bringing you to the brink of falling over the edge. “Ask nicely.”

“Please, Baby, I need to so bad. Want to cum around your fingers, please? Please, Baby.”

“Be a good girl for me, baby girl. Let it out. Show me who makes you feel this way.”

You felt Katie thrust into you harder and faster, causing you to let go of the pent-up climax closing in on you.

She continued to hit your G-spot deeply as you rode out your high, feeling your orgasm leak all over her fingers and into her hand. You cried out at the relief of it all, trying to catch your breath by settling into your elbows. You found Katie watching you recover, her lips swollen and eyes fully blown in euphoria at the sight of you post-sex. Her hair was messier than before, her smirk widening as you tried to stand up properly, whining when your legs violently shook.

She kissed the alcove of her neck, taking off her jumper to reveal a vest that displayed her arms in the perfect way.

“Should've taken that off before.” You managed to breathe out, accepting the way Katie scooped you up onto the counter, grabbing tissue paper and running it underwater, letting you fix your clothes up. You did this by putting your shirt back on and fixing your underwear.

“Put that jumper on.” She muttered, moving over to you, using her hands to open your legs. She began to clean up your thighs, which had been covered in sweat and arousal that couldn't have been concealed underneath your short skirt.

“Why?” You sighed at the cool temperature of the tissue, turning the top half of your body to face the mirror, nearly choking on air when you saw the number of hickeys decorating your neck.

“Oh my fucking god, Katie. I've got training tomorrow!”

Katie straightened up after cleaning you, flushing the tissue down the toilet. She walked up to stand between your legs, smiling at the bruises littering your neck and chest.

“Will Fleming be there?”

You scoffed, observant of the way Katie rubbed your thighs. “Obviously.”

“Then I've done my job well.”

You tried to hide your smile by picking up your phone, eyes bulging when you saw the missed calls from Kyra.

Now you were fucked.

[inuyashaluver]

ok so i don’t know how u would feel but would u wanna write for sam kerr maybe? 😶 im desperate for fics abt her

biggest fan - sam kerr

sam kerr x reader

description: in which you are quite literally your girlfriends biggest fan, something she loves more than anyone

warnings: swearing

a/n: it’s sammy! i had no idea what to do at first for this legend but here it is, thanks for the request, lovely! enjoy ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, sam had a relatively cliché start to your relationship. it was a classic case of being in love with your sister’s best friend. your older sister, caitlin was extremely protective of you, she was two years older and never let you forget it.

when caitlin started football, you followed along, completely unaware of the status the foord sisters would later in the future. but back to square one, when you and caitlin played in the australian u17’s team, caitlin had been called up first. that’s where she met sam, forming a quick friendship. caitlin always bragged to you about the girl, funnily enough you hadn’t met.

it was until you got called up a year after, you finally met the girl your sister talked about so highly. caitlin dragged you around the change room on your first day, introducing you to your new teammates dutifully. and when she got to sam, your cheeks turned pink.

“sam, this is my sister, (y/n), sister this is sam” sam gives you a bright smile, extending her hand out to you, before you could ever reciprocate, caitlin gave you a shove forward, clearly underestimating her strength behind it. you completely lose your footing, stumbling slightly forward and landing in the arms of sam.

both of you look at each other with wide eyes, two warm hands held you at the hip, catching you before you fell. “you alright?” sam questions with a little giggle, you quickly separate yourself from the embrace, your face growing warm. “yeah, sorry” you smile sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck.

“sorry, sissy, didn’t realise you couldn’t stand straight” caitlin lets out a bright laugh, clapping your shoulder somewhat apologetically, “fuck off” you mumble, giving her a little shove.

“we’ll see you around sammy” caitlin slings her arm around your shoulder, dragging you to your cubby which was thankfully next to hers.

as time progressed, both you and sam can’t help but develop little crushes on each other. when you get changed, both you and sam steal glances at each other. and throughout training. and through matches. the amount of times you looked at each other should have been clear indications for both of you - but clearly not.

you were shy, something that your teammates discovered quite quickly during the beginning. though, you began to break free from your shell, with almost everyone except sam. she was convinced you didn’t like her and she needed to do something about it. she was completely entranced by you.

so, she approached caitlin, pulling her aside after training. “hey, does your sister not like me or something? she never talks to me” caitlin eyebrow quirks, “uh, not that i’ve heard of, that girl idolises you” caitlin lets out a laugh, you’d always ask caitlin about sam at any chance you got.

sam is visibly confused, shifting her weight between her legs. her eyes drift to where you stood with alanna, alanna was talking to you about something but your eyes were trained on your sister and your little crush.

when sam makes eye contact with you, you immediately turn red and look away. she watches as alanna teases you for getting caught. this confuses her more. “what do you mean?” sam focuses her attention back in caitlin, “(y/n) talks about you all the time” caitlin groans, “she literally never stops, even if i beg” caitlin laughs again, sam smiles at this, her cheeks going slightly pink.

as sam and caitlin laugh, caitlin’s face suddenly drops. she came to a realisation. “that little shit” caitlin says under her breath. she knew - you liked her best friend. caitlin walks away from sam, rushing off to walk to where you were with alanna. she ignores the protests of sam coming from behind her.

you turn when alanna slaps your wrist, her eyes focused on the incoming storm cloud that was your sister. suddenly, you’re on the ground, caitlin on top of you while she tickles you, one of your biggest weaknesses.

“caitlin” you breathe out, attempting to push her off but she was extremely strong. “why didn’t you tell me?” caitlin continues her relentless tickle attack, “tell you what?” you exclaim breathlessly, “that you like her!” caitlin stops for a moment, both of you just staring at each other. she had an unreadable expression on her face and it scared you. you swallow the lump in your throat and your eyes glance over at sam before refocusing back on your sister.

sam and alanna watch you both helplessly, looking at each other in disbelief before focusing back on the duo on the floor. “i was scared” you whisper, caitlin slightly softens at this, getting off you and helping you up. “scared of what?” caitlin speaks lowly, her eyes tracing over your face. “of you” you laugh, giving her a light shove. she cracks a little smile before returning back to a stern expression.

“are you serious about it?” you nod immediately, she looks right into your eyes, looking for any indications of a lie but finding absolutely nothing. you really did like her.

“okay” caitlin says simply, you look at her in shock. “okay?” you repeat, she nods “okay” she giggles, flicking your forehead and gaining an immediate wince from you. caitlin parts from you, turning to sam, “i know it hasn’t happened yet, but it will, hurt my sister, i hurt you, got it?” caitlin smiles, her hand squeezing sam’s shoulder as she spoke, walking away with a grin.

sam was seriously confused now. she looks at you for an answer, seeing your pink cheeks and nervous body language said everything. you and sam started dating 5 months later.

—

now in present times, you and sam both represent australia and you followed her to play for chelsea. something your sister couldn’t fathom but she still loved you, you think. the woso community labelled you and sam as a favourite couple. you’d both been dating for so long, everyone loving how genuine and special your love was.

and something that everyone noticed, you were obsessed with your girlfriend, exactly the same as all those years ago. it was seen at almost every moment possible.

for instance, during a chelsea match, sam got a goal from your assist. the roar of the crowd for your girlfriend was one of your favourite sounds ever. when she bolts over to you to lift you up in celebration, you look at her with absolute lovesick eyes as she hoists you on her waist. “let’s go, baby!” she exclaims happily, giving you a squeeze and a quick kiss on your lips. the pink dusting your cheeks has your girlfriend smiling uncontrollably.

“perfect goal” you boast, “perfect assist” she says cheekily, placing you back on the pitch with a kiss to your forehead. at the end of the match, you were doing your lap of photos and signatures until you see a sign. ‘(y/l/n) let’s swap shirts!’ you smile, completely intrigued, walking up to the girl and ripping off your jersey, in return she places a simple white t-shirt into your hand.

you unfold it to see ‘i love my girlfriend’ with sam’s face printed on it. you thank the girl profusely, laughing brightly and immediately slipping it on. everyone takes photos of you and your proud grin.

you quickly turn to try and find your girlfriend, spotting her signing someone’s shirt on the other side of the pitch. you thank the fan one more time and tell everyone you’ll be back, all of them laughing at you and your reaction.

you sprint to sam, tapping her on the back with the brightest smile ever. she turns in confusion, smiling at your face “you’re smiley” she giggles, assuming your happy from the win, her eyes then trail to your chest and she lets out a bright laugh.

grabbing your biceps to hold you while she took in the shirt and your grin. she’s smiling so brightly, her cheeks hurt. “baby, oh my god!” she laughs, you just smile at her, “new favourite shirt” you say cheekily, wiggling your eyebrows at her with a smirk.

she laughs harder, kissing you quickly on your lips. you feel her smiling into the kiss, both of you unable to contain your grins. she pulls away and you kiss her cheek quickly. she shakes her head amusingly at the amount of phones filming you, slinging her arm around your shoulder and taking you back to where the fan gave you the shirt.

you smile at all the fans, ready to resume your photos and signatures. sam kisses your cheek and sneakily smacks your backside before running off to where she was before. throwing you a wink and bright smile as she ran off. you shake your head at her with a laugh.

you didn’t take the shirt off when you got into the change room. the girls were teasing you relentlessly. “oh my god, (y/n), you sap!” millie screeches when you walk into the room. you just smile and nod your head, doing a hair flip motion over your shoulder, everyone laughs at your proud expression.

sam gleams from her cubby, looking at you with so much love. you move across the change room, getting playfully shoved by your teammates before settling on your girlfriend’s lap. her hands instinctively go on your waist and your thigh “hello, sammy baby” you breathe out, kissing her cheek again and wrapping your arms around her neck. “hi, pretty girl” she returns the favour, kissing your cheek repeatedly and making you giggle. she smiles into you, her favourite sound was your giggle, especially when she was the one who prompted it.

she moves to whisper in your ear, “i’m a little offended by this shirt, baby” her lips graze your ear and blood rushes to your cheeks. “why?” you whisper back, running your nails over the back of her neck. “i want one too” she smiles, pulling away to face your flushed face. you smile softly, kissing her lips gently and she quickly grasps the back of your head to deepen it. she slips her tongue into your mouth and squeezes your thigh, your breath hitches, humming into her mouth and leaning into her. she clearly loved the shirt just as much as you did.

she pulls away, your swollen lips spurring a smirk on her face. “you’re cute” she remarks, moving to hug you tightly. she tucks her head into the crook of your neck and places a little kiss there, “enough, love birds, please, or i’m calling caitlin!” millie exclaims, moving to grab you off sam’s lap and lifting you in her arms. you laugh when she spins you around.

“you don’t even have her number,” you say challengingly, “oh yes i do” millie smirks, pulling her phone out and showing her contact information to you. your eyes widen and millie places you on the ground. you run over to sam, she stands up to hug you and flips millie off over your shoulder, kissing your temple affectionately.

—

sam did end up getting a shirt like yours, showing it to you proudly when she received it. you wore your shirt all the time, happily showing off your pride for your girlfriend, not even caring about the teasing anymore. you were your girlfriend’s biggest fan, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by mbrighty04 and 44,233 others

samanthakerr20: she never takes this shirt off

view all comments

yourname: my favourite shirt FOREVER

↳ samanthakerr20: you’re cute

↳ yourname: you’re hot

↳ samanthakerr20: you’re hot

↳ caitlinfoord: ENOUGH PLEASE

mbrighty04: GROSS

↳ caitlinfoord: i second that

↳ yourname: caitlin!

↳ caitlinfoord: i love you?

matildas: parents

chelseafcw: parents

[chaosology]

only slightly

— Sam Kerr x reader

based off these requests, where Sam is only slightly mad that Y/N got hurt

There was something in the air that night. Your relationship with Sam had blossomed from teammates to more than friends only eight months prior, a secret well hidden from the public.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want people to know, but you just wanted to enjoy each other in private. The photos that decorated your walls were for your eyes only, pictures of arms around waists and kisses on cheeks during tender moments. You knew a small part of Sam wanted to show you off, grab you by the hand and twirl you with a “that’s my girl” expression, but even she was enjoying the privacy and security.

Your sport wasn’t easy - you fell, tripped and tumbled constantly. You knew the game's rough edges, the unpredictability of injuries, and the unspoken understanding of pushing through pain. You know you have to get back up and push aside whatever you feel to keep going. Concern never takes precedence.

Unless it’s her.

Witnessing the person you cherish hit the ground evokes a unique kind of terror. Resilience fades as love clouds your vision, and it’s so incredibly hard to not run over and protect them in the only way you know how.

Despite this, you and Sam had remained professional (even though it was incredibly hard). There hadn’t been many occurrences; one of the examples being when Sam was booted in the face, and you clapped her on the back when she sat back up. The cameras didn’t catch the whispered I love you’s, though.

“You right?” you heard Kyra say as she nudged you.

You offered only a stiff nod in response. It was the quarter finals, giving your team the opportunity to make history for Australia in the World Cup. Sam was giving a speech, her hands moving animatedly with a few fucks thrown in here and there. You could tell she was stressed too. It was her dream being here, but all she could feel was the weight of the world on her shoulders.

As you moved out to position, you could feel a hand brush against yours, her pinky intertwining with yours for only the briefest of seconds. It was a silent reassurance of which you treasured, offering a smile and cheeky wink back. Sam just laughed, moving out to her spot You didn’t miss the way she turned back to look at you.

You were beginning to feel the heat. Both teams were 0-0 and there was 20 minutes left. Every player on the field was getting more aggressive, weaving in and out strategically. You couldn’t help but feel annoyed, though. Mini had been tripped up twice by the same player and Kyra had taken a hit to the head - in what seemed to be calculated attacks. The referee didn’t seem to care, as nobody had been carded or even lightly reprimanded. What a joke.

Running up and down the field had began to tire you, a familiar tight feeling returning to your chest. The stress of the game was taking its toll, and you wondered if Sam was doing ok. She was down the other side of the pitch, but you could still see her meet your eye and smile. In seconds, you had turned back to see the ball heading your way. You took off, weaving through the opposition as you made your way towards the goal.

What you didn’t predict, though, was a player on the other team not only barreling into you, but shoving you hard on the way down. Her hands were at your shoulders, forcing your head at the ground. Feeling slightly spiteful in the heat of the moment, you grabbed the neck of her shirt and forced her down with you. It was only fair, right?

The white hot pain spread throughout your head like a wildfire, your eyes closing as your hands came to cradle your face. You could taste the blood on your lips the familiar searing sensation returned to your ankle, which had healed only weeks earlier. The force of impact had blurred your vision slightly, and you were surprised to see that the other girl had ran off the game was continuing.

Couldn’t they see that you were hurt? Why hadn’t they stopped? The referee didn’t even glance at you.

Sam had seen you take a tumble from the corner of her eye, losing focus when the ball came her way. She didn’t look back over until she noticed the crowd’s chanting change to yells of anger and concern. Her eyes flitted over the field, where were you? Who was that curled up on the ground?

Oh.

She was running in an instant, yelling for someone to grab the medics and the referee as she made her way to you. The referee had finally taken notice, signalling a pause in gameplay she took her sweet, fucking time walking over.

All urges to keep the relationship private had left her body as Sam crouched to pull you to her. She sat behind you as the medics checked your pupils and made sure it wasn’t urgent. The referee was having an animated conversation with the player who had pushed you, insisting that you had pulled her down. The ref looked to you, asking question after question that you didn’t even clock.

“Give her a fucking minute, can you see she’s hurt?” Sam had snapped back, pushing your hair behind your ear as you cleaned your face up. The medics had offered wet wipes as the physio made her way out to asses your ankle. You were still dazed, but coming to it more and more as you felt Sam’s grip on you. Who cares that anyone saw.

She looked up from where she was sitting to see the screens in the stadium had been replaying the moment for the crowd. The other girl had been vicious in her actions, and the expression on your face as you hit the ground made the Aussie see red.

She was up in seconds, in the other girls face and shoving her back.

“What the fuck was that, huh?” she had yelled, pointing at the screen. “She could’ve been really hurt.” Her eyes were slightly teary as she yelled. She shoved her back once more, a string of expletives as she did so. It was Mackenzie who eventually separated the two, offering the offender a pointed glare.

Sam’s attention was back at you, still hot with anger and concern. It was a kiss on the forehead as she took your arm and you walked off the field to rest. It wasn’t too bad, the shock had worn off and you were beginning to feel better despite the yellow bruise painting your head.

The cameras had captured her crouching in front of you, taking your hands in hers as she kissed your knuckles. Regretfully, she went back out to play, but you couldn’t help but notice her looking over at you protectively every few minutes.

All pain from your ankle disappeared as you ran back out to the field, jumping to Sam and Caitlin as they celebrated the win. The winning penalty had just been kicked after a tense 15 extra minutes. Sam had grabbed your chin, tilting it down to kiss your forehead in the midst of the chaos. You were laughing and crying, embracing one another as the crowd screamed bloody murder.

Like all other games, you and the opposing team had ended with handshakes and hugs. You were lined up as they walked past in defeat, offering a small “you guys did great” to each player that came by. By now, the crowds had settled and the cameras were skirting by, trying to get a good shot of everyone’s face - you hoped they didn’t focus to hard on yours.

What they did catch, however, was the moment Sam didn’t let go of that girls hand. Keeping up appearances, she smiled and pulled her in, saying something in her ear as she paled in response. She let go, giving her a slight push and clap on the back. From a distance, it looked friendly. Looked friendly.

“What did you say to her, Sami?”

“Nah, didn’t say anything. Must’ve hit your head pretty hard there, babe.” she responded teasingly. You had retired to the changing rooms where she was still inspecting your face. Her hands gently moving your chin in all directions so she could see the damage. You could see the fire behind her eyes that she was holding back, instead busying herself with making sure you were ok.

“Oh come off it, we all saw. What’d ya say??”

She sighed, muttering a small so demanding as she whipped off her jersey and changed. You admired as you awaited her response. Anyone could guess she offered something of a threat, but you just wanted to hear her say it. Perhaps that was because it was super attractive when she was protective, but you’d take that secret to the grave.

“I just told her what would happen if she did it again, that’s all.” She looked almost proud as she pulled you in for another hug.

“I’m serious, though. I’m glad you’re okay. Gave me a fucking heart attack out there” she admitted, her arms tightening around your waste.

“I’m glad you were there, Sam. All I wanted was you” you whispered, “but no more threats.”

“No promises, baby”

[esperfruit]

And last but not least, the Narrow Gauge Squad!

Skarloey Fletcher

Age: 64 (at disappearance)

Height: 165 cm

Rheneas Fletcher

Age: 61 (at disappearance)

Height: 167 cm

Falcon "Sir Handel" Hughes

Age: 35

Height: 170 cm

Stuart "Peter Sam" Kerr

Age: 35

Height: 168 cm

A quartet from Wales that now runs the Blue Mountain Quarry. Decades ago the Fletcher brothers ran a narrow gauge line, called the Mid Sodor Railway alongside Duke England until Skarloey and Rheneas disappeared without a trace. Unable to run the railway by his own, Duke retired and returned home to Wales and told stories to the local children. Two of them were Falcon and Stuart, who were inspired to work on a railway themselves when they grow up. One day the young men could not find Duke anymore but still pursued their goals.

When the Fletcher brothers suddenly reappeared as pseudo-spririts and the news arrived the mainland, despite attempts to cover up this supernatural phenomenon, Falcon and Stuart, now calling themselves "Sir Handel" and "Peter Sam" left their workplace, the Talyllyn Railway to be transfered to Sodor.

Skarloey is a friendly elderly man, who enjoys his works just as much as he used to but he can also be very authoritarian and can send fear into other with his deep booming voice. His younger brother Rheneas had a reputation as being gallant thanks to his work ethic and looks after Peter Sam.

Sir Handel is pompous, grumpy and competitive and with how his engine can pull tiny express trains, his demeanor can be easily compared to Gordon, he also hates to be mistaken for a relative of James just for sharing the same last name.

Peter Sam is polite, optimistic and easy to please as he often does not need much to be happy. He is one of the few drivers who can handle trucks flawlessly. He is a bit gulliable and can take teasing a bit too literal. His engine is something he is very protective of and was very upset when its funnel got destroyed in an accident.

Duncan Barclay

Age: 29 cm

Height: 175 cm

A former factory worker with a foul mouth and a bad attitude. He doesn't have much appreciation for passangers and just wants to get his job done. Duncan doesn't really like to work to begin with and only gets along with Rusty, who can motivate him to get through the day without getting into any fights. He likes rock'n roll and jokingly liked to call his engine's occassional wobbeling that.

Rusty Hornsby

Age: 26

Height: 162 cm

A maintenance worker at the Blue Mountain Quarry. Rusty is seen in a good mood most of the time and loves to help others out with their skills. They not only can repair engines and rails but are also skilled at medical care in case someone did get injured. Rusty and and Duncan are very close to each others despite their opposite personalities. They were a bit cautious to work at a mountain at first because of an incident they had with a boulder once.

Luke Stuart

Age: 22

Height: 159 cm

A young man from Ireland that came to Sodor to work there but went into hiding for a while after he was involved in an incident, where he thought to have accidentily killed Victor. Luke hated himself for thinking of himself as a murderer and looked for shelter at the Blue Mountain Quarry, where Skarloey and the others helped to hide and protect him. He was more than relieved to finally learn Victor is alive and holds no ill-will towards Luke and is now an official Sodor resident, driving a tiny green narrow gauge engine. Luke is very shy and timid and also self-councious about how short he is. He used to get picked on a lot back in Ireland and now tries to get over his insecurities.

[wosowrites]

Even Protectors Break Down (Sam Kerr (kinda) x Reader)

warnings: ⚠️mentions of death⚠️

a/n: so today has been the worst day of my life. but i promised i would get a fic out so here it is. couldn’t find the request, sorry.

prompt: in which the readers father passes away right before a game, and reader chooses not to tell anybody. The reader has a really bad game and when the team finds out why, they need to be there for the person that usually protects them.

The game was at 3:00.

You had to leave your appartement at 9:00

The call came at 8:37.

You had changed into your tracksuit and had done your pregame routine which consisted of making a breakfast sandwich and watching a scary movie. You were now standing in front of the mirror in the washroom, trying your hair into a tight messy bun.

Your phone, that was placed on the counter, started ringing just as you were looping an extra hair tie around your hair. You struggled to get it on, trying to not ruin your hair but also hoping you wouldn’t miss the call.

Mum, the screen read.

Your mother never called you. Your mother didn’t like you. All you had was your dad, family wise. He was kind, and calm, and loving, and never got mad at you for not being interested in the boys your mother set you up with.

You answered the call on the last ring before your mother would have given up.

"Mum?" you said, concern in your voice. Your mother answered with silence. "Mum!" you said, loudly and clearly.

"Your father got into a car crash. He didn’t make it. Funeral is in a week and I can text you is will. Or what you inherited from it. Which is basically everything. Good luck with the game today, versus Manchester City, right?" your mother said.

Good luck with the game, your mum had never wished you good luck with a game. She thought your career was stupid.

"No… no… it’s versus United," you said, calmly staring at yourself through the mirror. "Oh. My bad. Good luck," she hung up.

Processing your emotions seemed impossible. You wanted to scream, and cry, and curl up on the floor and never leave. But instead, you smiled at yourself in the mirror and took a deep breath.

You usually blasted music on the way to Cobham, where you met the Chelsea girls before leaving for Manchester, but today, the car was silent. Silent other than for the sound of the ring you wore on your index tapping against the steering wheel.

Your hands were shaking uncontrollably, which definitely wasn’t safe as you were driving on a highway.

A highway, your dad died on a highway. Probably. You couldn’t remember if your mother had specified.

You arrived at the training ground, your brain cloudy, your hands shaky, and your body numb. You had told yourself in the car that you would be keeping this to yourself to make sure the team got the win without having to worry about you.

Ever since you were young, you had adopted the ‘don’t want to be a burden' mindset. And that’s the mindset you had chosen for today as you walked into Cobham, greeted by cameras and trainers.

You put on your best smile, the one that said 'my mother didn’t just tell me my father died less than 40 minutes ago!' and then waved at the camera.

The second they couldn’t see you anymore, you let your smile drop. Nervously running your hands through your loose hair (you had ripped the bun out in the car) you walked into the changing room.

Your throat felt blocked as you smiled a tight lipped smile to the girls who said hi to you. You sat down beside Sam’s empty cubby, she was always a little late.

Sam and you had… history. And by history you meant hookup history. Sam was just always there, all the time, especially when you felt the most alone. And she made you feel… not alone. But you had never been able to venture into anything serious with her, the timing was just wrong. Yet somehow every time you told each other that it was over, you woke up in her bed.

The world around you felt cushioned. It felt like you were lying under a weighted blanket, listening to a party going on on the outside, on the other side of the blanket.

You hadn’t noticed eyes on you, zoned out instead on Millie’s number 4 jersey.

"Y/n!" a voice yelled, snapping you out of your daze. You turned your head quickly in the direction of the voice. "Mhm," you said, looking at Guro. "Are you okay?" Erin asked, all eyes on you now.

You held eye contact with her for a while, biting the inside of your cheek, licking your lips, trying to think of what to say.

"Sam’s late again. Why is she always late? Do you think she’s okay? She should really not be late," you said, standing up quickly and pulling at your fingers.

Pernille try to make a step towards you but you walked off, back out of the changing room and into the Cobham hallways.

As you turned the corner, you immediately felt a familiar body colliding with yours. "Sam! Jesus why are you so late?!" You grounded the australian, walking backwards and away from her. "I’m like, ten minutes late," she said, checking her watch and looking back up at you, sorry visible in her brown eyes.

You held eye contact with her before turning away and walking back into the changing room, met with confused looks from your teammates.

But you were saved by Emma, who walked in and started debriefing you all. Only ten minutes later, you were walking out of Cobham to board the bus on the way to Manchester. A 4h37 minute drive was ahead of you. A drive in which you would try not to break down, and then you would warm up, and try not to break down, and then play the game, and try not to break down, and then-

"Stop yelling her name it won’t do anything! Y/n…" Sams voice broke you out of your trance, her tone changing from when she talked to the team and when she adresses you.

You spun your head to the side, looking at Sam who’s hand was on your lower back. "Sorry. Bus, yeah," you said, climbing into the vehicle.

you climbed into the bus, your head spinning. the idea of being in a moving vehicle made you ill. you could only think about the fact that your father was now gone due to being in one. but honestly, you being in the bus didn’t bother you, it was the fact that all your girls, your team, your rocks were here too. that Sam was here, that Jessie was, that Magda and P who had been like mothers do you. That was made you feel as though you were going to go insane.

But you sat down in your seat, and pretended as though you were calm. Sam sat next to you, and subtly, casually put her hand on your thigh, rubbing her thumb on it. You didn’t feel her hand leave the whole, entire drive.

When you got to the Manchester United stadium, you quickly ushered the australian out of the bus, not wanting to be there at all. The only time you had taken an entire, deep breath since getting inside the bus was when you saw that all your team and all the staff was out.

But when you weren’t worried about your girls, your brain went back to your father. "Y/n, what’s going on. Your eyes look foggy… and you look pale," Sam said, trying to talk to you discreetly so that Emma wouldn’t hear.

"I am fine. Im just nervous," you lied. "Don’t lie," Sam told you, seeing right through you.

"I’m not, Sam," you said sternly before walking away from her. You spent the rest of the pre warmup looking around the field, checking the changing rooms (even if you’d been there tens of times) and then you got changed. Once a crowd started to gather, you warmed up. And then, kickoff.

It all went wrong so fast.

Your passes were way off, and as a midfielder, your attacking was off, defenders were getting past you quicker than they got around a pilon, and you were just no help whatsoever. It was a miracle that you were tied 2-2 at half.

The second you tried to walk off for halftime, you felt a hand on your shoulder. Magda. "I don’t know what’s wrong with you but you need to pull it together. Like, 30 minutes ago. Whatever is wrong, leave it off the field, got it?" The swede said. "Got it," you said.

Why Emma didn’t take you off? Another miracle. But then things escalated in the second half. Three players somehow went down with injuries and had to be taken off, so suddenly there weren’t any midfielders that could be subbed on for you. The look on the teams face when they realized they would have to play the rest of the game with you on the field made you want to die.

But you did. You tried to create better, crisper passes, and you tried to even get a shot off. But nothing was working. Nothing.

Jessie managed to slot one in in the 88th, which ended up being the last goal of the game.

When the final whistle blew, you fell to the ground immediately. Your head in your hands, you just tried to control your breathing. No need to cry on the pitch. You felt a hand on your back for what felt like the two hundredth time today. But this time, it was a red.

"It wasn’t your day today, I see that. But I also see that something is wrong. Are you okay?" Classic Ona, classic sweet spaniard.

You looked at her with wide eyes for a second. None of your team was around you, no one wanting to loose it on you. "Welp. Considering I can’t tell anyone on my team. I found out my dad died about seven hours ago and I haven’t let myself cry… or fell anything since," you said.

And then you stood up, and walked away. Which probably wasn’t the best move as Ona looked completely lost.

But the second you walked into the tunnel, you were met with Pernille who looked on edge. "Oh! Okay just, hear her out. She’s really mad. She’ll be okay but-" Pernille started saying. But then Magda turned the corner and was storming towards you. "What the hell was that? What was that? I’ve never seen a girl on this team play so badly. I’m sorry I don’t want to ruin your confidence but that was so unprofessional. Never again. Never do that again. You hear me?" Magda said angrily.

You nodded once taking in the swedes anger. Her chest was heaving, her hair was messy, her pupils were small.

She looked you up and down and then walked back into the changing room, Pernille giving you an apologetic look before hurrying after he.

You did not make it back to the locker room, instead, you found a hallway, slid down the wall and started sobbing like you never ever had before.

Locker room

Magda and Pernille were the last people to enter the Chelsea changing room. The girls were happy about the win, but they all seemed lost, and thoroughly confused about what rhe hell had happened on that pitch. But they were about to get their explanation.

Emma walked in, looking pale and teary. "Okay girls-" she cleared her throat and her eyes darted around the room. "-she’s not here. Shit. Uhm… I just got a call from y/n’s agent. Her father… he died a few hours before the game," Emma said.

Right away, Sam’s eyes widened and she jumped up. "Where is she?!" she said, panicking. "I don’t know, uh, maybe the tunnel or-"

"I yelled at her. I said… not okay things to her," Magda said. "And all this time she-" Magdalena said, her eyes unfocused as they looked at the ground.

"I don’t care! Where is she?" Sam said, looking at the captain. "She was in the tunnel last time I-"

But the striker was already off. It took her five minutes to find you, five minutes in which she felt sick and desperate, and five minutes in which you had cried so hard your nose was plugged up.

When she found you, she basically threw herself at you. She wrapped her arms around you and gently guided you to her lap. For almost forty minutes, she stroked your hair, whispered words of love and reassurance to you, and just made sure you know she was there, and that she wasn’t going anywhere.

[rebelraso]

Some thoughts, a day after defeat.

It's been 24 hours since kickoff and I want to share some thoughts about our loss to the POM's (Prisoners of the Monarchy).

First of all, England have some class players, I don't argue that one bit. However, some of the team played with unnecessary aggression (that kick to the shoulder for example, or that hard tackle in the box) and to me, that took away from those on the team who did show true sportmanship.

I really like when we play England in sports, every encounter we have with them is an encounter where we learn. Regardless of the scoreline. We played and beat them in the Ashes a few weeks back, and their reaction left a bad taste in my mouth. The amount of backlash we got from the british media (looking at you Piers) was childish to say the least, calling foul, throwing cheating accusations and the sorts.

Do I think our recent wins against the Poms in other sports played a part in their aggression towards us last night? Kind of? There was a lot of hype around the match, its a rivalry that goes back to us becoming a federation, even further probably. They wanted revenge for their recent defeats, but part of me feels like they took it too far with the nastiness last night.

Moving away from the Old Man's Desciples for a moment, I want to talk about my Golden Girls. It was a shame Kennedy was out sick last night, she has been a true defender and crucial to the backline the entire tournament, and we definitely felt her absence, as did her teammates.

Holy shit that Sam Kerr goal was just divine! That being said, I also feel like she started before she was fully fit and ready, I don't doubt for a second she could've been a real game changer if she came on as a sub and we kept last weeks lineup (except Alanna for obvious reasons).

HAYLEY RASO, that girl is quickkk. I am always in awe of her speed and fierceness on the ball. She has a rocket in her boots and I'm so annoyed we didnt utilize her more last night. That girl is going to shine at Real Madrid.

Macca, our Minister of Defense. Although 3 goals were conceded, I still trust that girl more than I trust most people. Reminder that goalkeepers arent the only ones protecting goals, thats what defenders are for too, and sadly, they just didnt mesh as well without Alanna.

I'm guttered we didn't make the final, but I'm keen for Saturday night. 3rd or 4th, I'm one proud aussie gal, and I'm excited for the future of the women's game. They've let no one down, and I want them to know that.

Best of luck to my girls on Saturday, and best of luck to Spain on Sunday

[sunsetkerr]

tags

all of the important/frequently used tags on my blog to help you navigate your way through 🤍

#asks • . * . — any asks that I answer will be tagged here

#mutuals . • — any interactions with my beautiful mutuals will be tagged here

#therapy with celeste • . * . — where you can vent or ask for advise to your hearts desire

#navigation . * • . — where you can find all my masterlists, tags, requesting rules, etc

#sam thoughts — where you send in any thoughts you have about sam (headcanons, ideas, scenarios, etc)

#one shots . * • . — where you can find all of my one-shots (500-4,000 words)

#headcanons . * • . — where you can find all of my bullet point headcanons

#social media au . * • . — where you can find all of my social media edits and au's

#blurb night _ • . * . — where you can find all of the blurbs published on a blurb night, just fill in the underscore with a (written) number! there has currently been (one) night completed!

#sn wip — all of your ideas/headcanons/scenarios for the 'sweet nora' universe.

#wip — where you can see the requests you have sent in that are being written into fics

#potential wip — where you can see the requests for people I don't necessarily write for that could, one day, be written into fics

#sammy's girl . * • . — all things we think sam kerr's girl would do / say. the type of girl she is. childhood best friends to lovers. sport journalism baby. the og wag. everyone's favourite.

#mrs arnold . * • . — all things we think mackeznie arnold's girl would do / say. the type of girl she is. intelligent queen. audiologist slayer. ready to take on the world. would die for west-ham.

#kcc's gf . * • . — all things we think kyra cooney-cross' girl would do / say. the type of girl she is. surfer grom. loves the water. big fan of dunking kyra under waves. watches bells beach every year. would spend her life savings on a new board.

#mini's mrs . * • . — all things we think katrina gorry's girl would do / say. the type of girl she is. best mum ever. kyra cooney-cross protector. harpers favourite. super-parent. supportive wife.

#hayley's angel girl . * • . — all things we think hayley raso's girl would do / say. the type of girl she is. physiotherapist queen. hayley's personal masseuse. self-care queen. totally over-protective. ribbon-outfit coordinator.

#steph's sweetheart . * • . — all things we think steph catley's girl would do / say. the type of girl she is. primary school teacher. long dresses and sweaters. big fan of using inside voices. gentle parents kyra as needed.

#foordy's flower . * • . — all things we think caitlin foord's girl would do / say. the type of girl she is. florist. professional flower giver. completely and utterly baby girl. utter romantic. would die for caitlin. cat mum.

#cha cha's girl . * • . — all things we think charlie grant's girl would do / say. the type of girl she is. highschool sweethearts. charlies loudest supporter. a tiktok sensation. meme queen. channel seven's favourite source for reaction pictures.

#lani's love . * • . — all things we think alanna kennedy's girl would do / say. the type of girl she is. sweetheart on the pitch. everyone's favourite. shy, soft-spoken queen. fellow matilda.

#mary's darling . * • . — all things we think mary fowler's girl would do / say. the type of girl she is. academic. loves studying??? too clever for her own good. is determined she is going to win the nobel prize for medicine.

#ellie's mon cherie . * • . — all things we think ellie carpenter's girl would do / say. the type of girl she is. french girly. oui oui. multilingual queen. fashionista. ready to design valentino's next ready-to-wear line.

#mccabe's gal . * • . — all things we think katie mccabe's girl would do / say. the type of girl she is. ausenal's fourth piece. total firecracker. doesn't take shit. the only one who will step to katie.

#jessie's baby . * • . — all things we think jessie fleming's girl would do / say. the type of girl she is. ucla sorority girl. pretty in pink. total girls girl. opposites attract trope. loves jessie more than anything in this life. classic party girl.

#bright's sunshine . * • . — all things we think millie bright's girl would do / say. the type of girl she is. single mum. total superwoman. diehard arsenal fan. the best thing to ever happen to millie.

#baby kerr . * • . — all about sammy's girl and their baby

#bubby flemming . * • . — all about baby and their bubby

some of my beautiful anons have chosen emojis so I know that it's them when they send in asks. feel free to choose one that isn't taken if you would like your own! you will have your own tag to keep track of our conversations 🤍

emojis taken:

✨ 🦊 💐🪩

[lovethelifeyoulive123]

Thank you, for being you. I needed to hear someone rational today, with all the toxicity on the internet. Considering turning off social media altogether and push pause on watching all football games for a time while certain individuals duke it out / hate on a person, in the worst possible way, contributing nothing to actual concrete improvements to society’s problems. The woso fandom is very divided at the best of times, and some of them can come across as fair weather supporters, at times. So it isn’t surprising the reaction is a mix of shock, disappointment, anger, resentment and jumping to conclusions. There will always be toxic elements when it comes to any kind of fandom.

No individual is perfect or immune to criticism, including Sam, people should let this run its course and await the outcome as you rightly said. Those who are so quick to condemn and throw the first stone, based on such little information, contribute to this societal problem where we do not stop to use critical thinking, and pick up pitchforks without a second thought. It’s easier to be the sheep and protect one self than to step back and take a pause.

We live in a society that is fast paced and quick to judge, and has very little room to make mistakes, and we don’t give much empathy or encouragement to do better. That’s probably the saddest part, because that’s the start of building hate and division.

Look, the only thing we can do right now is wait and see. I'm not saying that she did or didn't do something that was wrong. It's ridiculous to jump to conclusions based on such little proven information available. Everybody deserves to be innocent until proven guilty. Yes I'm a Sam Kerr fan but I would truly say this anybody.

And my friend you don't have to shut off SM, just take what you see with a grain of salt and try not to react to the trolls. They thrive in these situations and are in heaven right now unfortunately.

And yes the woso community is toxic even in the best of times. I would encourage you and others to come to your own conclusions based on fact not rumors and innuendo.

[spade-riddles]

SR, can I ask you something? Do you ever feel like you would be glad if you knew for sure Taylor was no longer with Karlie? Like if for example Spade resurfaced and informed you that Taylor couldn't stand Karlie's mess and had decided to break it off. Are there times when you feel like it would be better for all, Taylor and us, if Karlie was out of the picture? Cause I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I do. I can't believe I've reached this point after supporting their romance for years, but I do.

I do not even follow Karlie anymore, because what she represents is too toxic for me. So, yes, selfishly, it would be easier for me to enjoy Taylor's journey if it did not involve Karlie. But, I don't wish it upon them to split. Their relationship is just that. Theirs.

It is interesting timing that you sent this ask, though. I recently discovered the Sam Kerr/Kristie Mewis relationship. Two of the best womens soccer players in the world, who are very open, and very much in love. I highly recommend you follow them. They are so adorable. This blog @newbiesquadgoals is a good one to get you started.

What struck me this week though, is that Sam and Kristie reminded me of why I fell down the Kaylor rabbit hole back in late 2014. It is just so beautiful to observe two people so happy, so free, and so in love. That is what Kaylor showed publicly back in 2014.

As for ♠️, I said to a mutual the other day, that if Kaylor is going to stay private, I wish ♠️ would stop back and somehow let us know this (via a riddle or some other way). My hunch is that we will see Kaylor together in 2022, again, and that they will both be free. But, I don't expect them to do a 180 on Taylor's stance of being fiercely protective of her family. So I do not have any expectations of them showing they are a couple. Just that we will see them spend time together publicly.

You said: "I can't believe I've reached this point after supporting their romance for years, but I do."

I hear you, anon. As much time as I have put into supporting them, I cannot believe I do not even follow Karlie anymore.

[aus-wnt]

opinions on the squad? a lot of people aren’t big fans of it but i am. it’s not like tony is calling loads of new people in again but called up players who haven’t been called up since 2018/19 etc.

going up against spain with a young squad obviously isn’t ideal but i doubt he planned to have spain slaughter the matildas in advance, and it just happened to be that they’re the opponents this fifa window

It sucks that we won't get to see our full strength team against a team like Spain, but I understand it. The players that aren't there need the break, it's as simple as that really. There's more and more research being done into player workloads and how to manage it and this is just part of that.

It's about the long term, especially looking ahead to the World Cup, Olympic Qualifying and hopefully Olympics all coming up over the next couple of years. It's the last chance for a proper off-season for these players. They're protecting the core group from burnout along with trying out new (or old) players when presented with the opportunity.

As usual Sam Lewis has a good article out about this situation with some insight from players as to why this is so needed.

[wsl-chelsea]

could you maybe post the section from the athletic please? I don't think many people have access including myself. thanks in advance. 🙏

dont worry you just need an account (no subscription!) but ill c and p:

One of the most surprising and disturbing images of last week was the sight of a male fan running on to the pitch during Chelsea Women’s Champions League tie against Juventus, Charlotte Harpur explains.

The man, a member of the club, held up his phone filming himself as he sauntered across the pitch at Kingsmeadow, allowed to enter the centre circle at a leisurely pace with no stewards in sight.

Chelsea’s Sam Kerr decided to take matters into her own hands, tracking down the fan before bodychecking him to the floor, much to the crowd’s delight. He ran off, finally and slowly pursued by two stewards.

Kerr was given a yellow card while the fan has been suspended by the club. But surprisingly the Metropolitan Police confirmed that no arrest has been made. The Athletic can explain that the reason for that is a worrying loophole in the law that excludes women.

Under section 4 of the 1991 Football (Offences) Act, it is an arrestable offence to go onto the playing area.

The law states: “It is an offence for a person at a designated football match to go onto the playing area, or any area adjacent to the playing area to which spectators are not generally admitted, without lawful authority or lawful excuse (which shall be for him to prove).”

A person guilty of this offence is liable to a fine of up to £1,000.

This legislation only applies, however, to “designated matches” and The Athletic understands that Women’s Champions League and Women’s Super League games are not classified as such.

According to the Football (Offences) (Designation of Football Matches) Order 2004, a designated match is “a game in which one or both of the teams represents a club which is a member of the English Football League, the Premier League, the Football Conference or the League of Wales, or represents a country or territory”.

Such a list excludes women’s games completely.

Therefore the pitch invasion was not an arrestable offence unless there were other aggravating factors such as assault or public indecency.

Chelsea manager Emma Hayes raised her concerns after the match: “We do have to think about player safety. We’ve seen in the growth of the game there is this sense of the players being more in demand. It should serve as a reminder to us all in our stadiums and with our stewards we’ve got to put player protection first.”

It is understood that women’s games are not attended by the police unless factors such as intelligence, attendance numbers, any pre-planned disorder, pockets of criminality, crowd dynamic such as a derby, or counter-terrorism dictate otherwise.

[uswnt-owns-this-homo]

Let a Bitch Hit You- Julie Ertz x Reader

     AN:  Here’s my attempt at a protective JJ, hope I did it justice!

TW: Homophobia, mentions of drugs/alcohol, cursing of course, homophobic slurs and language

You take a deep breath as the ref blows the starting whistle, the Courage kicking the ball back to their defense, signalling the start of the game. You try to follow the ball as much as possible, taking care to stay in position and wait for opportunities and passes to come your way. You can’t help but to think of the circumstances as your teammate, and long term girlfriend, Julie Johnson, gets the ball, and passes it quickly, opening up space and helping the Red Star’s attack. 

      The significance of the game is not lost on you, your first one against your prior team. Jaelene Hinkle, one of the most openly homophobic people in the league, had pushed you towards your transfer, though you and Julie were already discussing a request at a later time. After her and Ashlyn’s epic twitter battle, Jaelene had lashed out slightly, demanding that you, as the “resident queer on the team’’, get dressed for games and practices in a different area, so that she “could change without being leered at”. 

      The rest of the team, minus your national teammates, had just let her go along with it, not defending you or telling her she was wrong. This, along with direct statements to you about your sexuality, including, but not limited to: constantly telling you you’re going to hell and sinning, pelting balls at you during practice, and, during team bonding events, conveniently forgetting to invite you, leaving you disconnected with the rest of the team, had led to the situation at hand.

      Your former teammates, bar the national team members, attack you mercilessly. They go for cheap moves, like holding your jersey during corner kicks, and performing late slide tackles, obviously targeting your notoriously weak ankles and knees. Throughout the game, Julie’s frown has become more prominent, her play more sharp, focused on getting the win over the people, or more accurately, the person, who contributed to her girlfriend's small fall down the rabbit hole.

       Instead of discussing the transfer, and the events behind it, with a professional, you had turned to alcohol, and over the counter medications, drinking booze and then taking benadryl, or cough syrup, and sleeping for days. You had kept up your facade of your usual happy, energized, rival to Sonnett in memes personality, up until you had moved in with Julie in Chicago. She had quickly noticed your actions, taking count of the vodka and medicine bottles, and had pushed you to see a therapist, resulting in your sobriety of now 4 months. 

      Hinkle makes the mistake of going in for a late slide tackle, clipping your already sore ankle. You turn to her and she sneers, winking at you. You slowly get up, rolling your eyes as the ref allows play to continue.

      Julie has been slightly more aggressive when facing Hinkle, and some people have noticed, mainly you, and of course the target herself, especially after a particularly hard run in was made for the ball.

“Hey, Johnson, how about you clean up your play? This is the third time you’ve shoved me, getting sloppy there, homo?”

      The look on your girlfriend’s face says it all, and all you can do is run to put a hand on her shoulder, trying to keep her from retaliating.

“Aw, look, dyke is trying to stop big bad Julie from starting something she can’t finish. How’s the cough syrup binge going, Y/N? Still sober, or have you fucked that up as well?”

      You just blankly stare at her, feeling old urges resurface, trying to stay in the present, as well as keep Julie from getting carded.

“You know, I think you transferred because you know I’m right, and you can’t face the fact that you sin everyday, and don’t like that your sickness is brought to light, isn’t that right, Y/N?”

      Julie shakes you off, stomping forward and shoving Hinkle, causing you to follow, holding her back slightly, your team, and the opposition coming together in a large huddle, Alyssa grabbing Julie and holding her back..

“Alyssa, please. No, Y/N, she can’t talk to you like that! I mean, the league has done jack shit to her for harassing you, or for poor sportsmanship, or any of the other numerous things she’s done. Jesus, you tried to kill yourself! And what does she get? Absolutely nothing!”

Jaelene seems to falter for a moment, before her face turns in a sneer.

“Poor Y/N, can’t take any criticism, what’d you do, try to get away from it?”

      Julie finally breaks out of your and Alyasa’s grip, lunging at Hinkle, landing a solid punch to her jaw. The ref comes running, putting her hands on both players. Julie is still attempting to reach Hinkle, and laughs at the red card she’s shown.

“Oh yeah, fucking let the one who’s caused severe emotional and mental harm to my girlfriend get off scott free!”

Coach calls her over and she rolls her eyes, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead, glaring at Hinkle when she fake gags. 

You’ve had enough, officially snapped, gone off the metaphorical rails of tolerance of douchbaggery.

“You know, you can insult me, make me want to cease living, but you have no right to be disgusted. Any god I know would be appalled at how you’ve treated my community, and I know you don’t go to heaven just on the merit of being a homophobic christian. Ash was right, you have no place on the national team… You wouldn’t fit,”

      You shove her backwards, taking your yellow card with a grin. Play resumes relatively quickly, and your whole team goes forward into the second half with a renewed passion, compensating for Julie’s red. You lose yourself in the game, giving it your absolute all, and laying yourself out on every possible play.  You manage to score 3 goals, one which could have been defended by Hinkle. 

      The whistle blows and your team rushes you, picking you up, hugging you, and cheering. You all head back to the locker room and you spot Julie, staring at her phone, a blank stare on her face. You sit beside her, putting your arm around her shoulders and pulling her into a hug.

“Thank you, so much. For defending me, for fighting for me, even though I really missed my favorite ball feeder,”

Julie cracks a smile and shrugs.

      You pull her in for a short kiss, trying to  convey all of your love for her. You all walk out of the locker room, bags and bus buddies in tow. Julie holds your hand as you walk to the bus, rubbing a thumb over it as you stare blankly ahead of you, thinking back on your whole experience with Jaelene. Julie wraps her arms around you as you both get onto the bus, finding your usual seat beside Alyssa, who smiles worriedly at you. You take a deep breath and look at Julie.

“I just, I thought transferring would give me peace, but she’s still there, the thoughts, they’re still there. Just. Why is it such a big deal to her? I’m just living my life, trying to be happy, and she constantly made me feel, hell, sometimes still makes me feel, worthless, and I know therapy helped, but still, sometimes, like tonight’s game, brings it all back,”

      Julie gets a look on her face, as does Uncle Naeher. They look at each other and nod slightly, brows furrowed.

“Come on Alyssa, Y/N, sit here, we’ll be back in a second,”

You curl up in the seat, listening to Julie talk to Alyssa’s seat mate, and one of your friends on the team, Sam Kerr.

“Look, me and Alyssa have to go do something, we’ll catch an Uber to our place afterwards, could you do me a huge solid, look after Y/N for me? Make sure she stays talking, doesn’t zone out too much?”

Sam nods and Julie sighs, turns to you, and kisses you on the forehead.

Okay, love, I’m gonna go, sort things out.  I’ll be back in a bit, before you go to bed, okay?”

You numbly nod, heart racing.

      She quickly turns to Sam, nods, and goes to get off the not yet started bus. Coach looks at her and Alyssa, and they talk for a few seconds before he waves them on, glancing back at you. Sam moves to sit beside you, and you curl up to her side, silently wishing it was Julie.

      You’ve made it back to the hotel, eyes red from your crying on the way back. You carry your bag to your room, Sam walking you to it and giving you a hug as you walk inside. You put your things down, taking care to organize it so you don’t have to deal with it later. You turn the coffee maker on, set it to hot water, and start to run it, putting a tea bag in and leaving it to brew while you shower. You get your sweats and long sleeve t-shirt, taking out your toiletries and turning the water on cold, hoping the chill will help pull you out of your funk. You hop in and sit under the water, shivering slightly, but unwilling to turn it warmer. 

      You must sit there for an hour, slowly numbing even more from the cold water. You vaguely hear the room’s door open, Julie setting down her bag and putting her keys on the desk.

“Y/N? Babe?”

      You want to turn your head, say something, go lay and curl up in your girlfriend’s arms, let her reassure you, but the motivation doesn’t come. So, you sit and numbly watch, shivering and lips turning blue, as Julie comes in the bathroom, looks to you, and immediately rushes into the shower, clothes on and forehead cut, eye black.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here, stayed with you, I just. She did this to you, without really trying, I couldn’t just let that happen,”

      You just shrug and hug her, trying to get warm, regretting your tactic for pulling yourself out of your mind.

“Okay, we need to get you warm. I saw your tea, you can have that, and then we can lay down and watch that documentary you heard about from Rose?”

      You nod, watching her turn water to warm, and strip, leaving her soaked clothes on the bathroom floor. Julie slowly washes your hair, conditions it, and takes a cloth to your slowly warming body, every touch and prod gentle and full of love. She keeps you under the warm spray for a while, holding you and rocking slightly.

“Okay, now which one of my hoodies do you want? We have the Santa Clara U or the Red Stars one, and some sweats, and some fuzzy socks are in your near future,”

You smile.

“You wore the Red Stars one more recently, so that one,”

A small blush runs across her cheeks, her usual confident demeanour gone.

“I’ll see what I can do, charmer. Ready to get out, get bundled, and get cuddled?”

She goes about shutting off the water, looking down to nod at you, and then stands up, you still cradled to her chest. You have a moment of realization.

“If I ask nicely, will you avoid putting clothing on?”

She sputters and turns tomato red.

“I- what? No, clothes are going on so I can properly warm you up, no more sly passes! I’m trying to take care of you, short stuff,”

You glower, sigh, and wrap your arms around her neck, waiting for her to put you down.

“Okay, look, tonight may have gotten to me, just a bit, but even all wacked out, I know somethings wrong. What happened to your face, and where’s Uncle?”

She sighs and starts to towel you off.

“Fine, The Giant and I went to have a chat with Hinkle, and I had her record it. I simply started talking with Hinkle, trying to reason and help her to understand things a little better, and then she hit me, and I didn’t hit back, and then she hit me some more,so now we’re hoping that we can send this to the big people in charge and maybe she’ll get suspended or in trouble or something. Alyssa is back with Sammy trying to stay away from conflict for the rest of her life. She did tell me to tell you to come down tomorrow if you needed some tips for dealing with the whole situation. Honestly think it’s the most she’s spoken this season,”

      You hug her and wrap the towel around her shoulders before smacking her gently in the leg.

“No more inciting violence in the hopes that you fuck with people who have ‘wronged me’ or whatever it is you said that one time, got it? Also, you need ice, but I will say I love a girl with a black eye,”

      You walk off into the main part of the room, ruffling through Julie’s bag to find her sweatshirt, lifting it over your head with a triumphant croon.

“Aw yeah, the epic girlfriend hoodie, let’s go!”

      Julie chuckles and walks out, coming up behind you and grabbing her SCU hoodie, pulling it on and winking.

“So that next time you want a sweatshirt, you can have a freshly me scented one,”

      You roll your eyes and grab a pair of training shorts, pulling them on and grabbing your tea, laying back carefully on the bed.

“Okay, coral documentary, snuggles, and then sleep,”

      Julie nods and gets in bed, pulling you close and grabbing the laptop beside the bed and opening up Netflix.

“Sounds like a pretty amazing night to me, shorty, let’s watch us some ocean stuff,”

     Needless to say you’re crying by the end of the documentary. Julie jerks awake, her soft snoring abruptly ceasing.

“What? What happened, who hurt you, I’ll let em’ punch me, get their ass suuspeendedd,”

      You chuckle, still crying slightly.

“Nobody, babe, just, he loves coral! And it’s disappearing, and he’s sad and all emotional and now I’m all emotional!”

      You sniff a few times and shut the computer, quickly putting it on the bedside table.

“Please don’t let anyone hit you again, Juls, pretty please,”

      She sleepily grunts and mumbles.

“Man, sometimes you just let a bitch hit you, ya’ know. Gotta get the w somehow, cause I sure didn’t get it during the game,”

      You laugh and wrap her arms tighter around you, knowing it’s going to be a bit of a long road ahead, but certain that the whole situation will pan out, and that you have Julie by your side through all of it.

[the-colony-roleplay]

Ethan Kerr | Twenty Three;  Survivor

House: Brink Security Class: 2 Status: Infected - Praeteria

History

tw: rape mention

Ethan never did anything he didn’t want to. Growing up in an orphanage before eventually being transferred to foster care, Ethan had always been a stubborn, picky child. If he didn’t like the food placed in front of him, he wouldn’t eat; if the other children were mean to him, he’d spend his days alone; if he didn’t want to be somewhere, he simply wouldn’t go. So when Ethan decided he couldn’t stay with his foster parents anymore, he ran.

And it wasn’t so much rebelliousness that drove him, but rather fear of forever being only okay. Trapped in a life pendulum-ing between mediocre and miserable, never to discover anything more. Having come out as transgender in his preteen years and physically transitioning in his early teens, If Ethan wasn’t happy, he certainly had the courage and will to try to change it. Unfortunately, what he didn’t have was forethought, common sense, stability. He ran because he couldn’t handle his surroundings, felt drowned in the huffs and cries of a house too full, arguments too plenty, and his environment consumed him with a desperation to escape it. Maybe if he ran long enough, hard enough, he’d find a place to breathe, where the air would be cleaner, the world a little less small.

But that was when he’d been younger, less jaded and faith less crushed. At sixteen he’d run, and instead slept on friend’s couches, took up shit, bottom of the barrel jobs to try to feed his half-starved self. But by eighteen he’d realized that you couldn’t just run away from a shit hand you’d been dealt, that there was no such thing as escaping what you once were to aimlessly stumble across happiness.

It’d started when he was crashing at a friend’s house, the first place he’d stayed longer than a few weeks in ages. He was a new friend, a boy he’d met while working as a bar hand at a dingy pub in Manchester. “Corbin”, as the boy called himself, (though Ethan later found out his real name was Sam), was someone Ethan felt drawn to because Corbin was also a foster care runaway and had been living on his own in so-called ‘luxury’ from the age of fifteen. Corbin seemed so carefree, so smug and content, always a smirk hanging crookedly off his face, a fag sitting half smoked behind his ear. And Ethan admired him, at first, because Corbin had the sense of freedom Ethan had been looking for; he was everything Ethan thought he wanted to be.

So he fell easily under Corbin’s wing, fast friends and attached at the hip. It was only a matter of weeks before he realized the true source of Corbin’s cash and way of life. ‘Got my start just on cam, y'see,’ he’d told him. 'It really ain’t so bad. Who could turn down gettin’ paid to toss off? Everyone wants to love what they do, mate—and I get 'ta.’

Corbin had since moved on to hustling via an ‘escort service’ online, and Ethan, under his friend’s encouragement, started the same way Corbin had. Harmless, online servicing. There was no true trouble in that, right? And though Ethan was hesitant at first, Corbin had been right about one thing—those feelings were quick to melt away as the money started pouring in. Being self-sufficient and showered in attention was startlingly effective in feeding Ethan’s confidence and ego.

By the time Ethan was just rounding the corner to his eighteenth birthday, he and Corbin were inseparable; partners in crime, sex and minor but illegal activity. And Ethan had been on the tube, heading back to his shared flat with Corbin from a particularly well-paying job, when D-Day had struck. And though it would be years before he saw Corbin again, he’d believed since that fateful day that Corbin had survived; swore he could just feel it. Corbin had been so alive, so full of spark, despite his dark and twisted interior, that if he were dead, Ethan would know. He’d just know.

Ethan Today

At first, Ethan had made it his mission to get back to the remains of Manchester to find Corbin, but waves of looters hanging around the borders of the cities made it impossible for Ethan to get through on his own. He’d almost takena. shiv to the gut more times than one, so after a few months, he put those efforts on the back burner.

When an opportunity arose to join a traveling clan of about ten, Ethan took it out of desperation, despite the fact that they were traveling in the wrong direction. He needed the support system, the safety and sense of community—not only to keep him from wasting away on his lack of resources, but also to keep him sane. It’d seemed a wise decision at the time, and he’d told himself that he’d still make his way back to look for Corbin again when the time was right. 

Unfortunately, he’d misjudged the passersby. They were proving less trustworthy than he’d have hoped, frequently betraying each other and leaving others to fend for themselves when trouble with looters arose. Ethan, who couldn’t bring himself to be so cruel, became the helpful and compassionate one of the group, and though he hoped this would help secure his safety among them, in the end it only made him a target for vulnerability. When they found out what he’d done for a living, stories he’d let slip when he’d thought he was settling in, they taunted him with it, turned him into a tool for their loneliness and threatened his life should he disagree.

Ethan still doesn’t know if he considers it rape or not. He feels morally confused based on his previous choices and his uncertainty on whether or not he’d truly been forced. Physically, he never had been, though verbally and emotionally, it was a different story. But something Ethan is troubled with now is the question as to why he hadn’t run. He’d spent his whole life running, why then had he not turned around and escaped the toxic environment just like he always had before? Had his life with Corbin taught him to be placid, to make lemonade rather than just throw the blasted things out and get oranges?

To this day, he still isn’t sure where he stands. His Infection had developed sometime after the worst of the abuse, and he’d begun disappearing into its protective abyss more and more often. When the Colony 22 crusaders eventually found him wandering not far from his clan’s camp and offered him a one way ticket out of there, they’d asked him if he was alone, and he’d said yes. Despite knowing he was only protecting himself, he still battles confusing feelings of guilt about the whole thing. Had it been cowardly to let the people he’d lived amongst almost three years continue to barely survive while he was taken to safer refuge? Or were his actions justified—smart, to save himself and never look back?

In any case, he’d had no way of knowing that this decision would eventually lead to his reunion with his long lost friend, Corbin. Sometime before the New Wave, Corbin would be transferred to Colony 22 from one further up North, and Ethan would freeze in his tracks at the sight of him, staring as though he’d seen a ghost. Because in many ways, he had done just that.

For the most part, they picked up right where they left off with their relationship—but Ethan’s experiences post D-Day had changed him. and learning to navigate this new, more skittish side of Ethan Kerr proved to be quite the learning curve for Corbin. Time has helped, but there are still areas they tread much more carefully than they used to, despite how close they are.

RELATED BIOS: CORBIN EALY

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