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13uswntimagines · 1 year
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It Takes 200 to Tango (Emily X Dancer!Reader)
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Request: R is a back up dancer for a singer like Taylor Swift or Lady Gaga, and is dating Emily. They end up going to a club and doing the tango or something. The team is shocked emily can dance.
Author's note: So this one is a very very old request. Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog. We hope you enjoy. Hit us up with comments or requests.
You sighed at the table, taking a long sip from your beer. You wanted be with Emily on your weekend off, but that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted to be here. 
There had been a time when you were comfortable at a club, maybe when you and Emily were younger. When the two of you were still in college and you didn’t spend hours rehearsing. When you had more than a weekend together every 6 weeks. 
Your eyes followed her as she approached the bartender, ordering for her and several of her teammates. 
Being here was better than her being there without you. Even if you had to deal with bad music and people who didn’t know a jazz square from a chassé. 
“So you’re telling me Emily used to dance?” Kelley asked you, raising her eyebrow at you. 
You hummed, dragging your eyes away from your girl to meet hers, taking another gulp. “Yeah, she was a ballerina. She hasn’t told you?” 
Megan's head tilted at the information. “No. Is that why her posture is so impeccable?” 
Your shoulders lifted and fell. Emily’s posture had always been good. 
“Is that how you two met? Dance class or something?” Alex asked, wiggling her brows. “Did you teach her how to tango?”
“No. We met after she launched a soccer ball into my face,” A small smile played at your lips. “And I didn’t teach Sonnet to tango. She taught me,” 
“Taught you what, babe?” Emily asked, sliding into the spot next to you at your table, cocktail glass in hand. 
“The tango,” You answered, shifting so your arm was wrapped around her shoulders. “Taylor is still jealous I won’t dance it with her,” 
“Taylor… as in Swift?” Alex’s eyebrow arched. 
“Yeah,” you shrugged off handedly. “I’ve been one of her dancers since Red. She’s obsessed with all things romantic. Dances included.” 
“Valid. I still swoon every time I see the dancing in the Love Story music video.” Megan sighed. “That and the dance at Netherfield in the 2005 Pride and Prejudice movie have ruined my expectations for love.” 
You smirked. “That’s nothing compared to the Eras tour choreography. She’s letting me dance with a girl too,” 
Emily turned slightly to frown at you, setting her drink down sloppily on the table so a few drops slipped over the side of the glass.
You smirked. You always thought it was adorable when Emily was jealous. “But I wouldn’t let her put me in the tango she’s doing for I knew you were trouble,” 
“You told Taylor no?” Kelley asked incredulously. 
“Not exactly,” You said, leaning forward. “She knows that there are some things I don’t share,” 
“And the tango is one of them?” Kelley’s frown deepened. 
“Yep. My tango belongs only to Emily,” you said, moving your arm around her shoulder to trail your fingers over her skin. 
“That’s like weirdly romantic,” Lindsey chimed in, sipping her own drink. “Still, I won’t believe it till I see it,” 
“Yeah, Em is clumsy as fuck,” Kelley agreed. 
“Okay rude,” Emily protested. “I scored the winning goal game against Colombia,” 
“You whiffed so hard you did a backwards roll the last time we faced them,” Alex said looking at her nails in mock absentmindedness. “If you want us to believe you’re really that good a dancer, you’ll have to prove it.” 
“Yeah kid, put your money where your mouth is,” Kelley agreed, sharing a look with her girlfriend. “I say like… 50 is fair,” 
“200,” Emily shot back immediately. “That’s half of Y/n’s rate,” 
“Whoa, I’m not involved,” You said, shaking your head. You had learned long ago not to get involved in the shenanigans of the USWNT. The last time you had, you had ended up with blue hair and a fine from Lady Gaga’s tour manager. 
Emily shot a look at you. “You love me right?” 
You gulped, nodding. 
She leaned forward, so her grinning face was inches from yours. “Then you’re involved.” 
“I’ll pay the full 400 if you can actually dance,” Kelley shrugged, sipping her beer. “Wouldn’t want Y/n to feel cheated,” 
“200 is fine,” you said, rolling your eyes as you got to your feet, anticipating where this conversation was going, “I’m sure when we win, Emily will pay me back more than enough for making me dance - on my only day off - once we get home. Won't she?”
Emily smiled at you as she stood. “I’m sure I can make it worth your while.” She didn’t look away from you as she told Kelley what song to request from the DJ. 
Her fingers linked with yours as she guided you to the floor. 
You had never really been a fan of dancing in clubs. It was too chaotic. Too… unstructured for you to actually enjoy it. Too many people who would try to cut in like they knew anything. 
“Don’t worry, once we start, they’ll probably form a hole for us,” Emily hummed as if reading your mind. “Everyone likes to watch when people actually know what they’re doing, and you like it when people watch.” 
“That’s part of the fun of tour,” You agreed, closing your eyes as the song that was playing was slowly mixed into the song that belonged to you and Emily. 
You let the opening chords wash over you. You let the notes calm your racing heart as Adele began to sing. 
Skyfall was familiar, and you found it easy to slip into the leading role. 
Your leg slotted between hers, and you pulled her back into you. “Let’s see if you remember anything of value,” 
Your lips grazed Emily’s ear, and the shiver if sent down her spine didn’t go unnoticed. She liked the confidence that the music gave you. 
“Bold of you to assume I’d forget.” 
Your hips swayed together through the opening verse, slow, but steadily building. The warm up for what was to come. On the line before the chorus you slowly dipped Emily back, pulling her up so when the chorus hit, you both spun carried by her momentum. Her leg hitched around your hip, allowing you to lift her, even while her back toes dragged behind you in a familiar sequence. 
She twirled through and around your arms like it was second nature, and you guessed by this point in your relationship, it was. You didn’t have to think about how far to dip her as you spun, or worry about where her feet were. 
You just knew. 
It was the part of dancing that you loved. The moment where nothing else mattered besides you and your partner. The part where you didn’t have to think. 
It let your mind wander to more pleasant places. Like how Emily’s skin felt sliding against yours. How her fingers dragged against you more than they needed to as you spun her. How she completely let go and trusted you to support her weight as she leaned on one leg, the other out as high as it would go.  
It was clear she was teasing you as much as she was teasing her friends. 
You had danced with some incredibly talented people in your line of work, but that was work. Emily may not have the same level of training, but to dance with her was to dance with passion. You lifted Emily up into the air, and as the final note of the song held slowly let her slide down, eyes locked with hers. 
You couldn’t help but lean in and place a soft kiss on her lips, ignoring the clapping that surrounded you. 
“You know, you already messed up my plan for the evening. I was serious about that payment,” You said, pulling away and breathing heavily. 
She smirked, her finger catching your collar as she pulled away. “Don't worry, I’ll put my money where my mouth is.”
A low groan left your lips as she guided you back to the table where her friends were staring at you with wide eyes. 
“Pay up bitches,” 
This night was going to be very long if you had your way. 
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preathfics · 3 years
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Hey! 👋🏽I was wondering if you know any good harry potter world AU with preath 🥺
I haven't really read those but there is one I saw that's just come out:
The Tale of Two Oblivious Quidditch Stars and the Friends That Finally Brought Them Together by literalhedgehog, Swifty5h13 so that might be fun to check out/follow as it develops!
There are also a few of others on what appears to be indefinite hiatus:
need your love, need your time by 23bestfriends
Let The Sun In by karadxnvers
Amortentia by Arcbby23
I am confidently lost (but I might need you to find me) by etphonehome
All my Stars Aligned by the_shipwreck
I don't think we have any finished HP fics, but someone please correct me if I'm wrong!
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literaryhedgehog · 3 years
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Various commenters and friends inspired me to continue writing. So here is chapter 2 of 3. 
Special thanks to my friend @13uswntimagines for their help in writing different parts of this second chapter. It would not have been the same without you!
Enjoy!
Chapters: 2/3
Fandom: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer, Twilight Series - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Bella Swan, Jessica Stanley, Angela Weber, Mike Newton, Tyler Crowley, Lauren Mallory, Edward Cullen, Alice Cullen, Jasper Hale, Rosalie Hale, Emmett Cullen Additional Tags: Swearing, talking about sex, they say fuck a lot, Buffy the Vampire Slayer References, chaotic energy Summary:
Bella figures out that Edward is a vampire. Rather than tell him she knows, she decides to let him deduce that for himself and puts the completely hypothetical question of having sex with a vampire to a vote at lunch. A pro-cons list is made.
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ao3feed-jily · 4 years
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Hidden gender, disguised princesses, and other consequences of a royal coup d'état
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2WRB6I9
by literalhedgehog
When Princess Lily escaped her castle following the takeover of her kingdom by rebel leader Tom Riddle, the last thing she expected was to be captured by members of Gryffindor's armed forces. Confused for a local boy, Lily has to navigate life in the war camp as she decides what to do about Riddle, and about her growing feelings of camaraderie for the people she meets.
Loosely based off part of the book "Princess Ben" which I definitely plan to reread once I'm done writing this piece.
Words: 1566, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Lily Evans Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James Potter
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Royalty, disguised as a boy, Princess Ben references, Middle Ages, Prisoner of War, Secret Identity, Work In Progress, Swearing
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2WRB6I9
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ao3feed-crowley · 4 years
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The Best Sense of Timing
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2uDDUfy
by literalhedgehog
When Crowley missed a lunchtime meet-up, Aziraphale is sure that he has left Rome. But when Aziraphale runs into a spot of trouble with a robber a few days later, Crowley shows off his talent for well-timed entrances.
Words: 2654, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Good Omens (TV)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: Other
Characters: Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Additional Tags: Fluff, Ancient Rome, Blood Loss
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2uDDUfy
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13uswntimagines · 2 years
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The One Where Lindsey *Actually* Accidentally Breaks the internet (Lindsey x Medic!R)
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Remember a million years ago where we wrote the fic about lindsey accidentally breaking the internet? 
Well, there was a cliffhanger there. Kind of. And @literaryhedgehog​ and I saw each other for the first time in forever this week, started going through all of our favorite fics that we had written and realized we had to continue this one. 
So without further ado- the fic that no one asked for:
2022 had been a very stressful year thus far. Not the disaster that was 2021 or the complete implosion of time that was 2020, but stressful. Enough that you were incredibly glad to have the opportunity for a break. 
Between everyone’s ACL’s suddenly deciding to rip and players kneeing each other for funzies you had your hands full. 
And Lindsey. Well Lindsey had found success reclaiming France, which just so happened to be nine time zones away from you in Portland. So you were very thankful to get one week of her pure, undivided attention on some deserted European island. Plus she looked absolutely amazing in the little blue bikini she had chosen (and you may or may not have been caught… admiring… her anatomy one too many times. You were a medic. It was PURELY professional curiosity.)
“I think you can rent little catamarans down by the beach, if you wanted to spend the day doing that, instead of just sitting by the pool,” She said putting another layer of sunscreen on her nose. “Or we could go paddleboarding, or on a hike up to see the view from the top of the hill.” 
You rolled your eyes at her. “You athletes always want to do something… athletic. What’s wrong with just sitting by the pool and admiring the view? You already made me do a sunrise hike with you for like the last 3 days?”
Lindsey raised her eyebrow at you. “Because the only view you’re admiring is me.” 
You shrugged, turning the page of the book you were reading. “It’s a good view.”
One of the hotel’s servers came over with a tray of drinks to offer you both. You eyed his silver tray, “Do you have any extra shots to add to those painkillers?”
Lindsey saved him from having to respond, calling out as she dropped her sunscreen back into her bag and rifled through it, “You can't get drunk if we’re going to go sailing.”
“But I'm on vacation,” You whined indignantly, uncaring of how much like a child it made you sound. With half your players out with injury, you figured you deserved to let loose a little bit. 
“If you get sloshed, trip over one of the lines and fall off the boat and die, you won't have a vacation,” Lindsey said, rolling her eyes. Honestly, with how little alcohol you usually had during the year – since you were always on call for team injuries – you didn’t need the extra shots in your drinks. You practically got tipsy just from smelling your first pina colada this trip.  “Plus, you’re the one with all of the medical training here. All I could do to help you is put some triple antibiotic on it and call it a day,” 
“You’re no fun,” You pouted. Lindsey rolled her eyes at you, but kissed your pout away nonetheless. 
“Oh, I’m lots of fun,” She smirked, passing her phone to the waiter and signaling for him to take a picture. “Get your ass up and take a picture with me, so we can remember how amazing our vacation was.” 
The waiter caught her phone easily as she yanked you from your very comfortable caban chair. You playfully tried to protest, forcing her to pull you in front of her with a laugh. She draped her left arm over your shoulder in a teasing restraint, with a hand splayed across your chest. You smiled at her and put a quick kiss under her ear before leaning back into her and smiling forward as the waiter cleared his throat.
“Now smile,” He said, holding out the phone in front of him. 
You rolled your eyes at the request, suddenly feeling like a 5 year old at a family get together, but Lindsey pinched your side, earning an actual giggle light, airy and filled with total elation from you. You heard the camera click in time with Lindsey’s low chuckle in your ear, forever cementing the moment in time. 
“Should we edit them later before posting?” Lindsey asked, after thanking the waiter and taking her phone back. 
You peeked over her shoulder, glancing at the photos. You looked so happy, and she looked happy too. “Do what you want with them. I don’t mind either way.” 
“So definitely post them to make Sonny, Rose and Sammi jealous?” She sent you her signature eyebrow quirk. 
“Absolutely! Here,” you took the phone and opened the instagram app, quickly typing out a caption. Just enjoying the sun, drinks, and beautiful company. Wish you could be here {at}saucysonnet, {at}RoseyPosey, and {at}sammybananas :D. Lindsey shared your grin and hit the post button, before tossing her phone back in her bag.
 You reached out to take her hand, pulling her into an embrace. “Now, I could be wrong, but I believe you said something about a boat?”
“A catamaran,” She clarified, smiling fondly at you. You were more into books than the outdoors, but you tried for her. “It's a kind of boat with two hulls, so they’re more balanced and harder to tip over.” 
“Whatever,” You grumbled dramatically, rolling your eyes as she smirked at you pretending to be in a bad mood. “Do you still want to do the thing that I have to be sober for? Because if you don’t I can definitely find room for you on my exam schedule.” 
“You always have room for me on your exam schedule,” Lindsey huffed. “And yes. I’d like to go sailing. There's a super cool reef not too far from here I thought we could explore.”
“I’ll drop our bags in the hotel room and grab the snorkels. See you in the lobby in five?” You asked, gesturing towards her purse and your backpack. No need to get the phones and valuables wet.
“Thanks, babe.”
****
You looked up when you came back to the hotel room a few hours later, trying to spot whatever bee was the source of the incessant buzzing that had greeted you the second you opened the door. 
It was loud, and annoying and a total buzz kill on your reward for taking on the unforgiving seas. Lindsey’s hand had been making its way to locations not fit for the public eye, but it had paused in its migration at the sounds coming from inside your room. You were all for saving the bees, but if this one didn’t find its way out of your room you were going to find a flyswatter. 
“Just ignore it,” you said, scanning the room. It didn’t seem to be in the vicinity of the bed, which was where you had been going anyway. 
“But I’m allergic,” Lindsey said, looking pointedly at you as she stood in the doorway, unmoving.
“But, not all of them have stingers,” you pointed out. Only female bees could sting. “And most people only get an allergic reaction to honeybees. Other bee venom just causes local swelling.”
“And you’re willing to take that chance with me, the love of your life?”
“Well,” You started, puffing out your cheeks as you contemplated the decision. Surely there was only a very small chance that you would get stung right? You blew out your breath. “I guess not.”
“Just a guess?”
“...No.” 
“Very convincing.” 
The buzzing started again, drawing your eyes towards your bags. You dove for them. The faster you could get the bee, the faster you could move on to… better activities. 
“Ah ha, it’s not a bee. It's just our phones,” You cheered, holding up the offending devices like they were world cup trophees. You turned them on silent and tossed them back into your bags. “Totally worth ignoring.”
She simply raised an eyebrow at you, entirely unimpressed. 
“Oh come on,” you whined, sighing and taking out her phone. You handed it to her and grabbed your own, muttering under your breath about how it better be a life or death situation preventing you from getting laid by your… Oh no. You scrolled through the team groupchat, which was now at about 1000 missed messages and climbing. Lindsey was listening to her own phone, wincing at the volume of the voicemail she was presumably listening to. You thought you heard Sonnett’s dulcet tones, yelling something about a ring in the picture.
“Did we accidentlly murder someone and forget to tell the team?” 
“No,”Lindsey mumbled, scrolling through the messages. “It’s much worse. We forgot to tell them that we’re engaged.” 
“Were,” You corrected without really thinking about it, already beginning to type out your reply. “We were engaged.” You hit send, and turned your phone back on silent before tossing it back in your bag. Linsey looked at you blankly as suddenly her phone started buzzing so violently in her hand that she dropped it. 
“Really? That’s how you decided to tell them we eloped?” She asked, exasperated, but – based on the twitching of her lips – also highly amused. 
You shrugged. “You outed us over livestream in an argument with Sonnett. It just seemed fitting. Plus now they can't do anything about it for at least another ten days, unless they want to fly here.”
“I wouldn’t put it past them,” she said, reaching down to pick up her phone and rejecting Sonnett’s facetime request before turning her phone off and setting it on the bureau. 
“Well I might have mixed up Naxos with Nassau when I was explaining our trip to Kelley.” You said nonchalantly, holding out your arms to her as you sat down on the bed. She smiled slyly, coming and sitting sideways in your lap to look at you. 
“Is that why you were saying something about wanting to be like Jack Sparrow for the week?” 
“Maybe,” you agreed. “I can say a terrible line here about how pirates know something about stealing booty.”  And really you were looking for a little inspiration. Lindsey snorted.“Now I think you were complaining about an ache somewhere from all that hard work you did on the boat? Did you want me to take a look?”
“Aye, aye captain.”
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13uswntimagines · 3 years
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Breathe Again (Alex x Press!Reader)
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Gravity Pt. 2. After the incident, Y/n and Alex have a lot to navigate. This is how they find their way back to some semblance of normal. There's a little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff, and a lot of recovery.
@literaryhedgehog and hope you enjoy our 20,000 words.
TW: Talk of depression, survivor's guilt, almost dying and a few other mentions of homophobia.
Gravity pt. 1
You had always struggled with the idea of normal. It was an intangible concept that made no sense in your world. You had never been normal. Your anatomy. Who you chose to love. How you flew around the world for soccer. Nothing in your life fit into a mold of normalcy.
Until a year ago, you thought normal was an overrated barrier. Only stuffy or intolerant people would be proud to call themselves perfectly normal. It was something you would overcome, thank you very much. Definitely not something you would long for in your bones. Something you would set as your end goal.
Until it was.
This was just another step towards that goal, you reminded yourself. An important step.
You swore at the beginning of your recovery that you weren’t going to talk about the incident. But it felt different when Julie Foudy had asked for an interview for the 1 year anniversary.
You hadn’t recoiled from the request like you did for so many others. You trusted Julie and you felt like it was the right time to uncork that bottle so to speak.
You had to learn how to talk about your past to let it go and move forward.
You shifted uncomfortably in your chair, twiddling your thumbs as Julie bustled to set up the microphones around you. Despite the lengths they had gone through to make you comfortable, you were too nervous to even pick at one of the donuts she had brought with her.
“Alright, we’re all set up. You ready for this?” Julie asked, gently placing a hand on your forearm.
You blinked up from your staring contest with the donut, slightly relieved that her eyes didn’t hold the pity people still often regarded you with.
It’s why you picked her after all. She may have been the one to reach out to you initially, but you had chosen to say yes to Julie. Foudy was upfront with her questions, not harsh, but not trying to get some emotional tearful come-to-Jesus scene either. She just wanted the story. Wanted you to explain what happened the night you were finally going to talk about.
“As I’m ever going to be,” You breathed out.
Alex sent you an encouraging smile, and Charlie gave you a little wave. You couldn’t help but wave back at the toddler, or the way your lips ticked up at her little giggles.
“Just tell me if you need a break, or if you feel uncomfortable alright? This is all on your terms,” Julie said, settling into the chair just opposite of you.
You gave her a tense nod, trapping your lip between your teeth.
“Well then let’s get started.”
*****
Laughter permitted theme song
Your stomach flipped at the familiar theme song. The song you and Charlie had danced to hundreds of times in the kitchen as you various friends and family talked about some of the team’s most hysterical moments.
You almost wished that’s what she wanted to talk about.
“So this episode is going to be a little more serious than our normal content, but I think we should start by setting the scene. Go ahead Y/n,” Julie said, her smile evident in her tone, and you shifted again in your chair.
The entire room was set up to make you feel comfortable. The blinds were closed tightly and the lights were low. Alex and Charlie were set up on the far side, munching on the donuts you knew Julie brought to try and ease your nerves.
“Well, we’re in the team hotel and you brought Vegan Donuts,” You said calmly, picking at the item. Despite Alex’s protests, you were adamantly not vegan, but you appreciated the thought. You shot Julie a wry smile. “Which are pretty good, but not as good as the regular kind.”
Her thoughtfulness is why you agreed to this, and her understanding of boundaries.
“They were requested I believe,” Julie said, raising an eyebrow at you. She wouldn’t outright say who requested them. She wouldn’t be the one to out your relationship.
You shrugged “I can’t believe you didn’t spring for the cronuts you got Alex last time,”
“They don’t have a Dave’s in ——“
“Excuses, excuses,” you laughed, and Julie joined in, getting into the comfortable flow of banter. “We got some good ones last time we were here. I wish I could remember the name of the place.”
“Voodoo baby,” Alex said, nodding as she remembered the pastries. Charlie had insisted on getting a bear claw because auntie Sydney had watched Brave with her, and she thought it would make her turn into a bear. It hadn’t, but you had a wonderful time finishing up the almond and chocolate pastry for her.
You frowned, distinctly remembering following that bearclaw with a butterbeer. “I thought that one was the one by Universal?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s a chain,” Julie added, eyes watching the whishfull look that took over your features, and the sad smile forming on your lips.
“I think that was the only good part about that trip. The donuts,” You mumbled.
That morning had been tense. You and Alex had shared a room for the first time in forever, and it ended in a passive aggressive argument.
Most of the conversations you had at that point in your relationship had ended in arguments. At least the two of you could pull it together long enough to feed Charlie breakfast without incident.
“How does it feel to be back here?” Julie asked sensing the shift in tone and subject.
She wouldn’t force you to talk about it, but she would take the cues you were giving her. She would only push as far as you let her.
“A little bit crazy. Like, it’s been such a long road,”
*****
6 Weeks
Alex’s fingers tapped idly against the steering wheel, her eyes flickering to the glass doors that were becoming increasingly more familiar with each passing week.
It was frustrating. She had never considered herself an impatient person, but each week the minutes ticked by and she felt herself growing insane sitting here, watching those doors. Growing insane because she was regulated to the car while you were in physical therapy. She so badly wanted to help you, but you just wouldn’t let her. You wouldn’t talk about it, and she was getting fed up with each little “I’m fine” you gave her.
It didn’t take a genius to know that you weren’t fine. Not at all.
She let out a loud puff of air, her grip tightening on the wheel. She didn’t know what was worse, you ignoring her completely, or being there but not being there. It was scary how you would just sit and stare sometimes.
How you shied away from her and Charlie like you never had before.
She glanced up in the mirror, rolling her eyes as you struggled through the glass doors, your sling getting caught on the handle and the steps seeming taking every ounce of your strength to navigate. The way the nurses hovered around you would be funny, if your inability to admit you needed help wasn’t so frustrating.
Alex turned the engine back on so the AC would start running, and hopped out of the car, getting over to the passenger side right as you reached the car.
“Hey stranger,” Alex said, pecking your lips and opening your car door for you.
You huffed, turning your head away and shuffling your feet in front of you, placing the sling between the two of you. “I could have opened it,” you said, wincing as you ducked down into the car, taking a few extra seconds to settle yourself into a comfortable position.
Alex sighed as you awkwardly reached for the seat belt with your non-dominant hand. Your fingers could barely reach the metal, and the way you grit your teeth told her that the position you were contorting yourself into was not good for you.
“I know, but I wanted to be a gentlewoman,” Alex said, grabbing the seatbelt and reaching over you to click it into place, and placing another kiss on your lips as she pulled away.
As she walked around to get into her side of the car, Alex tried not to be offended by the fact that you had turned out of the kiss, so she had grazed the edge of your lips where they met your cheek.
She shook her head, sliding back into the drivers seat. It was normal for you to be more distant after therapy. It would just take you some time.
Alex would have been worried about how quiet you were, the silence broken only by the clicking of the blinker, or how you seemed to stare listlessly out the window as she drove.
It wasn’t the comfortable silence the two of you were accustomed to either.
“How was your appointment?” Alex asked, careful to keep her voice light.
“Pretty good. Did the treadmill today,” you said, voice devoid of emotion.
“That’s exciting,”
“I only got like a quarter mile,” You mumbled, scratching the back of your neck, remembering the days you would run 13 miles in a clip just to get out of your head.
“Hey, that’s still progress,” Alex said, reaching across the central console to grab your uninjured hand.
You let her intertwine your fingers, but she frowned when they remained limp in her grasp. How she longed for the days you would tighten around her fingers and bring it to your lips.
“Horrible progress. I could be outpaced by a 2 year old,” You scoffed.
She wiggled your hand, until you looked her way. “Babe, you’ve gotta give yourself some slack. It’s only been 6 weeks,” she said softly.
She didn’t say that you had only just gotten back on solid foods. That you had only just started walking without the stupid cane.
“I can’t even keep up with Charlie, what is she going to tell all her friends? My mom was great but now she can’t take more than three steps without wheezing and needs help to pick up a fucking spoon?”
Alex paused, thinking over her next words. This was the most you had opened up since you came home from the hospital, and she didn’t want to have you claiming up again.
She was thankful for the red light, as she wiggled your hand again until your eyes met hers. “I think Charlie is happy that she doesn’t have to visit you in the ‘mean building’ anymore. I think she tells her friends that you can eat chocolate chip pancakes with her again, and that you give the best snuggles. You’ll get the rest. You’ve just got to be patient,”
“You just don’t get it,” you scoffed loudly, halfway attempting to untangle your fingers
But Alex didn’t let you. She wouldn’t let you slip away.
“Then help me get it,” Alex said, a hint of the frustration she had been trying so hard to hide slipping into her voice.
You opened your mouth then shut it, not sure what to say. You tried again. “I, I just.” You closed your mouth again. How could you put into words a feeling that you didn’t even fully understand yourself? When it wasn’t rational to feel like you were falling apart, not because you had almost lost your life, but because you had lost muscle in your biceps. And calves. And probably everywhere else too, but it was hard to tell when you lost so much weight from just not being able to have solid food for six weeks.
It’s not that you weren’t grateful to be… but you had always been in good shape. You had worked hard to maintain your health all your life, even with the different hormone swings and medications you had taken. It was something that you had genuinely taken pride in.
It wasn’t that your six-pack had defined you. But without the ability to, fuck, even run a quarter mile without collapsing in a puddle of sweat, you weren’t even sure who you were. What you were supposed to do with your life.
“It doesn’t matter,” You said finally, closing your eyes tightly. None of it mattered anymore.
“It does. Tell me so I can understand,” Alex pleaded, and you knew she was near tears.
It made you hate yourself that much more.
“Just drop it. It’s not worth it,” You huffed bitterly.
Her fingers caught your chin before you could turn back towards the window, and gently forced you to look at her. “You’re always worth it,”
****
9 weeks after
You didn’t want to be here, enough said. You didn’t want to be within 100 yards of the practice field. You didn’t want to be on stupid metal bench on the sideline. You didn’t want to be around the team.
You weren’t sure if that was because you knew you would never get to play again (whatever your PT might try to say to the contrary), or because of how fucked they looked on the field. They just weren’t clicking.
Sophia and Morgan were trying to stretch the defence, but in doing so they put themselves out of position, forcing Tobin and Christen to hold onto the ball for too long. Your eye twitched as you watched them run through a build up again. It was a mess.
One you doubted Vlatko understood how to fix considering he kept praising them for drawing defenders. Sure it was good in theory, but the pocket kept closing around them before they could make it effective.
Each blow of his whistle rasped on your already worn nerves. You didn’t want to be here. It was bad enough just watching instead of being out there. You didn’t want to be here to watch the thing you loved go to shit.
“If you keep frowning like that you’re going to get premature wrinkles,” Lindsey said, plopping down on the bench beside you, squirting you lightly with the squeeze bottle.
You glared at the woman. It wasn’t her fault you didn’t see her coming, so it wasn’t her fault you had flinched and twinged your shoulder when she suddenly appeared in your peripheral vision. But you had flinched, and it hurt, and you couldn’t even respond by flicking her head like you normally would, because that would hurt too. So instead you wiped your face and flicked the water droplets at her, internally cursing the asswipe that shot your shoulder. “I think wrinkles are the least of my worries, when I’ve got a scar the length of a stiletto across my abdomen that’ll never go away.” It would never look the way it was. You would never be the way you were.
“Weren’t you the one who told me that ladies love scars?” Lindsey said, wiggling her shoulders suggestively.
“It’s not the same kind of scar,” You mumbled, shaking your head. It didn’t make you more badass. It was just a reminder that you were the one who got lucky. 1 of 40 that got to walk away only mildly scathed.
“Okay, Harry Potter,” Lindsey said, squirting you again. She wasn’t here for this mopey bullshit. They told her not to push (Alex begged her not to make it worse), but maybe a little nudge was what you needed. You always did respond better to challenges than soft critiques. You ripped the stupid bottle out of her grasp, but didn’t spray her back like your old self would.
No, you set it down on the bench beside you without a word. Lindsey frowned. Not even a quippy comeback. This was going to be harder than she thought.
“What do you think of the 4-4-2 lineup?” She asked, tilting with her chin towards the group of ragged looking youngins heading your way.
“It’s new, and pulling you guys all out of position,” You shrugged half-tossing the water bottle to Sophia. You blatantly ignored the sting that ran through your shoulder at the move. It was mostly healed and you figured the only way to make the pain go away was to use it after all.
Sophia caught the sloppy pass with ease, squirting the liquid into her mouth as she approached. “Becky and Abby keep closing the gap. Im not sure how to slip it,” She said in between sips.
You bit your lip, eyeing the group of defenders on the other side of the pitch. They were good, but making mistakes trying to contain Tobin on the left. “It’s because you keep going center. I’d slip to the left towards Kelley and wait for the cross or through because they keep collapsing the pocket.”
“Why not right?” Sophia asked, still breathing heavily (taking Lindsey’s cue to keep you talking).
“Because Morgan is already pulling Chrystal to the right. You want to split them wide and give Rose or Christen space to come forward,” You explained, kind of wishing you had a dry erase board to better describe it. Your hand gestures to illustrate your point felt kind of goofy, even if it was settling to talk about something other than therapy, or the incident. Almost like you could step out of your head for a second. “It’s not the answer for every play, but with the way Abby and Becky are playing right now it’s the better move to try and pull Kelley wide and overload Abby.” It would be more effective than trying to outpace them.
A ripple of agreement made its way through the growing group of youngins, being careful to not crowd you too closely, but still pacing in tightly to hear what you had to say.
Morgan groaned and rubbed her eyes. “Why didn’t Vlatko just say that?” It was so much easier when you described what they needed to do, so much more direct than Vlatko’s half directions.
“Because he’s too obsessed with Lynn’s zoomies to think of much else,” You scoffed, considering it wasn’t doing the team much good anyway. Maybe a small part of you wouldn’t ever forgive him for playing an alternate at the Olympics instead of the people named to the actual roster…. You also wouldn’t forgive him for his half assed response to questions around team security and his refusal to add more to it.
Sensing your drifting, Lindsey nudged your side. Catching on, Morgan asked “But what if the wing pocket closes too?”
As you started talking strategy again, Lindsey looked up to see Alex watching the interaction. Alex seemed frozen in the process of opening her water bottle, distracted from the task by watching you, a mix of fear and hope on her face. Lindsey met Alex’s eyes with a nod.
Alex could relax for now, it was Lindsey’s turn to stand vigil. They were a team, and they would all have a hand in helping you recover.
****
Alex took a long sip of her water, watching as the youngins all crowded around you. You looked more relaxed than she had seen you since you came home from the hospital, in your element using your hands to describe what they needed to do.
She wouldn’t lie, it hurt a little to see you so animated when she had been trying, and failing, to engage you in conversation for weeks. Not to mention you had fought her tooth and nail against even being brought to this practice in the first place! It was only practice negotiating with your daughter at bath time that kept her from giving in to your stubbornness and letting you stay home, but of course just like your daughter once you were actually doing the thing you argued so much against, you were perfectly content.
Maybe content was the wrong word.
She could still see the squint of your eyes, and how you shied away from contact. Whatever it was you were talking about was better than letting you focus on whatever self-destruct plan was forming in your head.
You could push her away as much as you wanted, but she wouldn’t let you destroy yourself. Not after everything you had been through.
“She looks a little better,” Christen said, beginning to rub circles on your girlfriend's upper back.
Alex sighed into the touch that reminded her so much of you (old you).
“A little. Getting the sling off helped some,” She hummed.
You had been more active with Charlie since the sling came off too, even if it was just in the small ways like helping to feed her breakfast in the morning. It was a step, and recovery was all about little steps in the right direction.
“Maybe being around the youngins will help too,” Christen suggested, hopefully looking at all the team babies gathered around you. Or sprawling on the grass close enough to listen to you, in Mal and Rose’s case.
No one would deny that you lit up a bit at getting to talk strategy, no matter how loathe you were to admit it.
“It’s good for her to get out of the house,” Alex said, unconsciously mirroring one of your doctors.
The one you hated because she always gave you homework you didn’t want to do. Homework Alex hadn’t let you wiggle out of this week.
“How have you been?” Tobin asked softly, taking up your girlfriend's other side seemingly out of nowhere.
“It’s just… hard.” Alex sighed. “There are moments where she’s so much like her old self, and then in the next she’s so…distant. And she won’t let me help her.”
She knew you needed time to process, and support to figure out how to deal with everything that happened, but it was difficult not to get frustrated. She was a fixer, but she couldn’t fix this. You were both fighters and it was heartbreaking to watch you seemingly lose all the fire she had fallen in love with.
“No Al. How have you been?” Tobin asked more firmly, emphasizing the you.
Alex was silent for a moment, her mind blank with the enormity of wordless feeling. “I just feel… helpless. I’m watching her slip away, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.” Alex’s voice broke and she looked up, blinking away the tears that had suddenly appeared unbidden.
Christen set down her water bottle and pulled Alex into a hug, rubbing her hands gently on her back. After a moment Alex squeezed back and made to let go, but Christen continued holding on, swaying from side to side until Alex leaned into her and buried her face in her shoulder.
“You’re doing the best you can, and that’s all anyone can ask.” Christen whispered, petting Alex’s hair and finally pulling back. “You’re going to therapy and making sure Y/n is too. It will help, it’s just going to take some time to see it. ”
“I know. I just… I love her and it hurts to see her like this,” Alex sniffled, brushing a finger under her eyes to stop some of the tears.
“I know. It hurts us too,” Tobin added, hugging Alex’s other side.
If Alex was going to always make sure someone was taking care of you, the least they could do was make sure she was taken care of too.
*****
“If he subs in Sonnett, you’ll probably be better off shifting to a 5-4-1,” You said, thinking of Vlatkos typical stance on Sonnett. She could be a midfielder (a damn good one too) and fill in for JJ in most cases, but he was too stuck on regulating her to the back line.
“Even if he sticks her in midfield?” Mal asked, finishing up a daisy chain and crowning Rose with it.
“It just kind of depends…” you started, looking up from Mal’s spot on the grass to see Alex. Alex was crying with Christen.
It didn’t take a genius to guess the cause. A pit formed in your stomach.
“Depends on what?”
“Um, on who shifts,” you said, watching as Tobin stroked Alex’s hair. This was your fault. She was trying so hard to make sure you were alright, but half the time you couldn’t pull yourself out of your head long enough to return the favor. It was another thing to add to the list of things you had fucked up.
The only thing you had managed to do right was take that bullet for her, and instead it scarred her for life. Sure she didn’t get shot herself, but watching you refuse to beg for your life with a gun held to your head had almost the same effect.
You knew that because she could talk about it. And every time she told you she understood, understood anything, it was another knife to your heart. You didn’t want to hold back (you didn’t intentionally internalize), but you just couldn’t seem to let her see your most vulnerable parts the way she was willing to show you hers. No matter how hard you tried.
Watching her wilt each day that passed where her efforts went seemingly unanswered hurt, but you couldn’t seem to stop. You didn’t know how to Tell her about the emotions and thoughts that flittered unendingly through your brain. How you wished sometimes that you had chosen to follow your mother down the hospital hallway when you had the chance.
She would never tell you that you were a burden more than a partner, but she didn’t have to. You already knew it deep within your soul. Could feel it in the scar tissue surrounding your collarbone.
You were brought back to reality by Vlatko calling for practice to restart. Lindsey bumped her hip against yours playfully and got up as most of the youngins groaned and took off back toward the field. You watched them, waving away the thanks they tossed over their shoulders as they went. However, a small group of girls stayed, shifting around in front of your bench.
“Thank you,” Morgan said, looking down at her hands which were twisting around the edge of her jersey.
“It’s just simple positioning,” You mumbled with a halfhearted shrug, scratching the back of your neck.
Sophia’s voice was almost a whisper. “No, Y/n, we just. Thank you for sa-…”
“Don’t thank me,” You cut her off, unable to stand how anxious her voice was. How similar it sounded to Alex when she pleaded with you to tell her how to help.
“But-..”
“No. Don’t thank me,” You voice was deadly calm, leaving no room for argument.
You didn’t deserve their thanks. Not when 39 people lost their lives. Not when you were actively hurting the people you loved the most.
You weren’t a hero. You were a pathetic excuse for a normal person at best.
*****
Present time
“So your recovery. A lot of athletes struggle to relax and heal from injuries, but you had a few more than most get during a typical season.” Julie said sympathetically.
“Definitely, you should hear me complain about my shoulder.” You nodded, smiling a bit at Alex’s eye roll, and resisting the urge to run your fingers over the thick line on your shoulder. (Truth be told the complications with being shot in the abdomen were much more severe, but nothing bad annoyed you more than the shoulder restrictions). “But I think in our case, we had to deal with the mental stuff as much as we did the physical stuff,”
“That can almost be more challenging,” Julie said, leaning forward at the change in topic. Mental health was a big issue at the moment, and she hadn’t expected you to be open about your struggles with it.
“Yeah. It’s really hard to fix something that you can’t physically see, or sometimes even adequately describe,” your hands moved as you tried to explain. You had struggled so hard with putting your feelings into words, something Alex could understand too. Couples counseling wasn’t the magic wand everyone claimed it was-- no one had mentioned the amount of homework they had prescribed to help you get more in sync.
“And having the right mental state, it’s an aspect of being an athlete that is often overlooked by the general public,” Julie nodded
“I think we try to downplay its impact because it’s been drilled into our society that admitting we have a problem is weakness. So instead we bury it down, and it just festers and gets worse. Like an untreated infection,” you looked over at Alex, who smiled wryly at you. “And it works for the most part with anxiety about tournaments or trades,”
“But it didn’t work this time,” Julie said, prompting you.
“No. The longer I ignored it, the more everything seemed to fall apart,” You wiggled your fingers, almost like sand was slipping through your hands. You had almost lost your two favorite girls, you had pushed them to the brink.
But Christen hadn’t let you push her away too. She made you face your inner self, despite how afraid you were of what you would find.
“And why do you think you ignored it for so long? You didn’t think you needed help?”
You bit your lip, contemplating your next words. Once they left your lips you would never get them back.
“It wasn't that I didn’t think I needed help. It was just that I had to learn how to accept it,”
****
3 and a Half Months
“Do you want to look at jeans? It looks like American Eagle is having a sale,” Christen said. She peered into the shop window, trying to see behind the display items and the sale sign blocking the view of the rest of the store.
You shrugged halfheartedly. “If you want.”
You were never really big into shopping, but Alex had insisted that you needed to get out of the house.
Christen had suggested going shopping, since maybe a new wardrobe would help brighten your mood, but so far the only nice part was watching your sister ogle her girlfriend.
It almost made you miss those moments with your own partner.
“I don’t really need any right now… Okay, next store. I think I see a Ghirardelli chocolate shop. Want to go there? Or we could go to Ross’ they might have one of the weird jerseys you're into,” Christen suggested. “Or we could go to a cute clothes store. If we find some heels big enough you could finally be taller than Tobin, or you could make Alex’s jaw drop with a little black dress,”
The thought of trying on clothing sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine. You didn’t want to accidentally look in the mirror and see the new, thick lines on your skin. Or risk your sister seeing them.
It was bad enough you couldn’t hide them from Alex.
“When have I ever worn dresses or heels?” You scoffed.
“When have you ever not changed out of the same pair of sweatpants 5 days in a row? I thought maybe you were trying new things this week,” Tobin joked, poking you mischievously from your other side.
Christen sent her girlfriend a look that could scour milk, before turning back to you. “Well if you don’t like anything I’ve suggested you could always give an option yourself.” She turned and walked over to a sign with the map of the outlet mall. “We could go to the Baby Gap. See if they have anything for Charlie?”
You rolled the idea around in your head for a second. Charlie was easy to shop for. She was safe. It meant you didn’t have to try anything on.
She was still obsessed with Paw Patrol so as long as you stuck to the theme, she should love whatever you picked.
“Yeah. Charlie needs new pajamas anyway.”
“Great! It’s this way, I think,” Christen said. She started walking and slowed down so you could join her. “Where is Charlie, by the way. I expected her and Alex to come with you when you said you’d meet us here.”
“Um, I think Alex took her to the beach. It was one of her little daycare friends’ birthday or something,” You mumbled, awkwardly scratching the back of the neck.
You knew you wouldn’t have been able to handle the noise of the kids screaming. And Alex just couldn’t seem to understand that you couldn’t explain why it bothered you sometimes.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Christen said, “We could have rescheduled if you wanted to go to that.”
“To a two year old’s birthday party?” Tobin snorted. “I don’t think you’re missing out on much.”
You shrugged again. “I wanted to see you guys more anyway.”
You left out the part where Alex kicked you out of the house for the day. The fight hadn’t been bad, but it most definitely wasn’t a shining example of communication.
“Oh, okay.” Christen bit her lip slightly, she could always tell when you weren’t giving her the whole truth.
“I’m sure Al is just excited you’re out of the house,” Tobin added, throwing an arm over your shoulder.
Your tense didn’t go unnoticed, nor did the way you tried to subtly remove the appendage.
“I don’t think anything I do can make Alex excited anymore. She yelled at me because I brought Charlie cereal the other day,” You scoffed.
“I’m sure there’s more to that story,” Tobin smirked, elbowing you lightly.
It didn’t matter that it was less than an hour before dinner. Your daughter had been crying for cereal and it was a small bowl. It definitely didn’t deserve the reaction you had gotten.
You were trying and she couldn’t even acknowledge that.
Just like she couldn't understand why you suddenly didn’t want to be completely public with your relationship. She was pushing you and you didn’t know how to respond.
“She got mad the other day because I didn’t want to hold her hand at Whole Foods. I literally don’t think I can win either way. I try and I get shot down. I don’t try and I get in trouble for it,” You said softly, your hand tugging at the hair in the back of your neck.
“Those are like 2 completely different scenarios,” Tobin said, “And neither one of them feels like you’re telling the lead up to the event.” You rolled her eyes at her, but mirrored her grin.
“You two just need to communicate better.” Christen said, breaking your silence. “Maybe you need, like, a date night so you can open up and reconnect again,” Christen said.
Her voice was unnaturally light, as though she were making a throwaway comment. You stopped and looked at her. “What do you mean reconnect?” Christen froze for a second, then tried to pass it off as stopping to look at a display rack outside a clothing boutique. It didn’t work. You planted yourself in front of her. “Did she tell you something?”
“She may have mentioned that you’ve been a bit closed off since the incident, but that it was expected considering…-“
“Considering what?” You asked incredulously, squinting your eyes at your slightly older sister. “That I'm fucked up in so many other ways?”
“I think she meant that you’ve both been through some traumatic stuff and everyone knew processing it all might be a challenge,” Tobin said, stepping between the two of you, her hands raised in a pacifying motion.
“Oh no, you don’t get to change the subject. Considering what, Christen? What has she been telling you? That I’m tough to get along with? That I’m apparently ashamed of her and Charlie? Let’s hear what specifically you have been hearing about me.”
“Well, the being ashamed of her and Charlie is a new one,” Tobin said
“Stay out of this,” you said, not even turning to look at her. “Considering what? Christen?”
“Calm down Y/n people are starting to look,” Christen hissed.
The comment only made you angrier. You stood to your full height, gritting your teeth. “Answer the fucking question Christen.”
“It was expected considering the things that man said. Considering that he dragged you out in front of the world fully intent on making you beg for your life and then taking it. Considering how difficult it is for you to ever admit you need help,” Christen tried to explain, her hands moving rapidly to try and get you to understand.
“Is that what you two are always whispering about? How difficult I am?” You scoffed, turning away and running both hands through your hair, tugging at the root and closing your eyes tightly.
You shook off the hand on your shoulder, ignoring the broken plea “Y/n-”
“You know, I should have just fucking died. It would have made life easier for everyone,”
“No, Y/n don’t say that,” Christen said, looking down at her hands.
“That’s what you’re all thinking isn’t it? How much easier life would be without me--” You roared, wheeling around to face your sister.
“Would you shut the fuck up and listen for a second?” Christen yelled, whirling around to glare at you. You saw that her face was red and her cheeks were already starting to get puffy, the way they always did when she cried. “You don’t get to say that. For starters it’s not true. None of our lives would have been easier if you had died, so try and get that fact through your dense head. It would have been more difficult, actually, because there would have been a fuck ton of paperwork since you didn’t have a will. We would have had to get some lawyers to try and figure out your shit and life insurance money or whatever and it would have been awful. And dad and I would have had to decide everything ourselves and it would be a nightmare because everyone knows you and mom are the decision makers in our family.” Christen’s voice broke and she swiped angrily at her cheeks. “And they’d probably name a memorial or stadium or something after you and your heroism, and I wouldn’t have been allowed to be angry at you and the dumbest fucking decision you’ve ever made in your life because you would be dead, you bitch.” She gave a small sob and turned away from you slightly, as though trying to hide the fact that she was wiping her nose on her sleeve.
You sighed. You wanted to say that at least you wouldn’t have been around to watch it, but your experience told you otherwise. You remembered how painful it was to watch them cry and to not be able to comfort them. You remembered that your mom had to watch you struggle every single day.
But sometimes, just sometimes, you liked to think that you would have preferred it to this. To knowing you were drifting away, and being unable to stop it. Like a surfboard caught in the current being dragged out to sea.
Sometimes you just wanted it all to stop.
“Yeah. Love you too. If you want to be angry with me now, I promise not to die in the next five minutes.”
“Fine. And get me some fucking ice cream, I’m still mad at you.” Christen said hiccuping once and swiping at her face with her sleeves. Now that she was facing you, you realized it was one of Tobin’s sweatshirts. She turned, mumbling “I’ll see you at Gap,” before walking quickly away into the heart of the shopping center.
“For the record, I’m really glad you didn’t die,” Tobin said seriously, grabbing your hand tightly, before chasing off after your sister.
You threw your head back with a “fuck,” tugging on your hair.
Why did you have to fuck everything up?
****
4 months
You glared at the drab blue wall, adamantly not looking at your therapist, or at Alex. You didn’t care if your pout or crossed arms made you look childish. Therapy was hard enough as it was, and adding Alex into the mix just made it that much more difficult.
You could be honest with the lady you had never met. You paid her not to run for the hills with some of the things that passed through your brain. But Alex. Alex had the full ability to leave and take Charlie with her when she found out just how fucked up you were.
“I don’t know why you want me to say it out loud,” You huffed.
“We’ve talked about this,” Your therapist (Clarke) said in a voice that reminded you of the one Alex used with Charlie.
You worried your lip between your teeth. You and Clarke had talked about this at length, as had you and her wife Lexa (your trauma therapist).
With Alex baring her soul, it was important for you to show her you were trying. And while you had made great leaps, admitting feelings out loud was so difficult. Especially to Alex.
“I know,” You mumbled.
Alex scoffed next to you. “So you’re fine with me bearing my soul, and not sharing yours with me?”
Your lips formed a thin line. You knew it wasn’t ok, but that didn’t change how you struggled to find the words to explain what you felt.
Clarke cleared her throat. “Let’s not try to assign guilt to sharing emotions right now. Alex, it sounds like you feel like there is an unequal emotional investment in your relationship. Y/n, I would like to hear your perspective. Do you feel like there is equal communication in your relationship?”
“No,” you said softly, finally looking at Alex’s slightly glassy eyes.
It made you hate yourself that much more. You couldn’t be what she needed.
“Then why--” Alex started.
“Alex,” Clarke gently cut her off. “You will have a turn to talk in a minute. It is currently Y/n’s turn. She has been working to put her feelings into words for a while now, it might take her time to compose her thoughts. Okay, Y/n. Explain what you mean.” Clarke waved her hand, gesturing for you to continue.
You sighed, scrubbing your hands over your face. “I know it’s not fair for Alex to share and for me to not. I know it’s not fair to expect her to know what I need when I won’t tell her. I know. But when I actually try to speak, I just. I can’t. It’s too hard. Knowing and doing.. They’re different.”
“Why do you think it’s hard for you to share your emotions?” Clarke asked softly.
You glared at her. She knew why. The two of you had spoken about it at length. But Alex didn’t, you reminded yourself. You opened and closed your mouth several times, trying to figure out how to say it. “I-…”
You paused, the words seemingly getting caught in your throat. Alex’s hand found your arm, her thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin, all agitation seemingly faded.
You gulped. You could do this. You had to.
“We almost died. I didn’t expect to walk out of that stadium. I wasn’t supposed to walk out of that stadium,” You choked out.
When you left the locker room, a little part of yourself knew you weren’t supposed to come back. When he let Alex go, you didn’t expect to ever be able to tell her you loved her again. When he dragged you out in front of them all, you didn’t expect your life to continue.
Sometimes a small part of you didn’t believe it did. Or that it should have.
But how did you tell the person you held most dear that you didn’t think you should have lived while 39 others didn’t?
“You did walk out of that stadium. You both did,” Clarke said, leaning forward in her chair. “But I’m interested in your word choice. Supposed to.”
You felt Alex watching you as you stared intently at your nails. You rubbed the ridges on your index finger with a thumb nail, the sense of the smooth yet bumpy texture alleviating some of the charged atmosphere of their observation.
You heard the unasked question, the request for you to explain more. God how you hated Clarke’s prodding sometimes. You decided to avoid the question by going back to Alex’s initial complaint.
“I know I should share more. It’s just, some of the thoughts that run through my brain are… intense. They’re not normal person thoughts. I know that they’ll upset her and I don’t want to hurt her anymore than I already have.” Your voice finally broke and hot tears burned a trail down your cheeks.
You moved a hand up to swipe away at your cheeks but Alex’s hands stopped yours. She gently held your face in her hands and smoothed away the tears with the tips of her thumbs. You looked into her eyes, which held none of the anger of earlier, but instead a sort of melancholy love.
“I think it hurts me more when you won’t talk to me,” She said, half a smile on her face as you brought one of your hands up to hold the back of hers. Her hands were still on your face. If it weren’t for the feeling of your heart pounding in your throat, you would have thought it had stopped.
“Why is that Alex?” Clarke asked. Alex glanced her way briefly before all her attention was back on you.
“I know you’re struggling, and you’ve always been right there to help me when I’m struggling. I love you so much for it, but it's hard when you won’t let me help you too,” Alex said, finally removing her hands from your cheeks. You caught them with yours, and gave them a squeeze.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “But I don’t even know how to classify and deal with the shit in my head,” You said, willing Alex to understand. It wasn’t that you wanted to hold back, but if you didn’t know what she could do to help… “ how can I force you to be miserable with me when I have an unsolvable problem?”
“Like what?” Clarke asked thoughtfully.
“Like the fact that if I sleep in the same room as her, she can’t get a full night’s sleep because I’ll wake up screaming every four hours?” You knew it bothered her that you had stopped sleeping in the same room, but if you could avoid interrupting her sleep-
“If you didn’t then I would get far enough in my dream to watch you get shot over and over again, so that’s really no problem,” Alex said.
You looked at her, shocked that she had hid it from you. It was your job to help her with nightmares, you had always held her and talked her through the dreams that plagued her at night. But looking into her face, you both started laughing. The irony of the situation was overwhelming and you collapsed into her, forehead touching her shoulder as you both cackled about the role reversals that this session had revealed.
When you could both breathe without beginning to laugh hysterically again, Alex touched her forehead to yours. You leaned against her, running a hand up to ruffle the tips of her hair.
“Babe we’re a team,” Alex said her voice low, but still amused. “I need to know what our opposition is so we can strategize and score. And so we can communicate that some problems aren’t as bad as you think they are.”
You smiled into her hand. “Promise me you won’t leave when you realize how messed up I am? I don’t know how to be normal anymore.”
”Neither do I, but we can work on our new normal together,” Alex said, leaning back and meeting your eyes. On her lips you saw her small nervous smile. Like the one she had the first time she asked you to dinner. Or the first time you were alone in a hotel room, and she suggested skipping your gym day for a different form of exercise. Or when she had told you that you would be welcoming a mini version of yourself into the world.
“Excellent work today, the both of you,” Clarke said, and you jumped slightly, remembering that the two of you weren’t alone. “Our time is almost up for this session but I think the two of you might benefit from some list making. First, the things the two of you are comfortable with. The things you like to do, or would like to do. The second, a list of things that make you nervous to try. Things that would need to be talked about first. And the third, absolute limits. The things that you have no interest in pursuing. It would help you set your goals I think.”
You shot her a half glare. God, you fucking hated homework.
“Either that, Y/n, or we can revisit the topic of how you felt like you weren’t supposed to walk out of the stadium. I noticed you changed the subject earlier, but if you prefer…”
“No, I think your wife picks that part of my brain apart enough, thank you,” you said quickly. “List making sounds great.”
*****
Present time
“It sounds like the two of you had some hard work to do,” Julie said softly, a sympathetic smile gracing her lips.
You looked over at Alex, gently bouncing Charlie in the corner. It wasn’t something you considered easy. You weren’t fighting a battle with a right answer. You had been struggling with a monster you couldn’t see. You couldn’t touch him, but you had no doubt he was there.
“There were definitely some times when I was in a bit of a dark place,” you agreed, “and I was really lucky that I had people around me who were not only patient enough to stick by me through those times, but also cared enough to call me on my bullshit and prod me into doing the work that recovery takes. You know, they say time will heal everything, but that's just blatant oversimplification.”
“Oh absolutely,” Julie agreed.
You shifted into your seat, running a hand through your curls (a nervous habit you would never break) “I mean. They don’t talk about how much time you have to spend walking through those moments and working through the things you don’t want to think about. How much time you spend looking at yourself and finding things you can be positive about amongst all the flaws.”
“No they don’t. Which creates the sort of environment where someone does take time to do that kind of work, and people don’t understand it. So thank you, to you and all the other athletes and public figures who are taking the time to be vocal and educate our society about mental health.”
The hand in your hair tugged harder at the strands. You still didn’t like it when people tried to paint you as an advocate. As some champion for the cause. You were just a person trying to find your way back to something that resembled normal.
“I think that people also don’t understand that there is no magic wand you can wave to make it all better. Sure, antidepressants or anti-anxiety medications help, and sometimes they do help a lot, but they’re not an end all be all. You still find moments and situations that show you just how far you still have to come,” you said.
“That sounds like a story there,” Julie said, leaning forward in her chair. “Care to tell us about it?”
“Well for starters, we learned our new least favorite holiday.”
******
7 months
You could feel the eyes watching you. It was a little hard to ignore, even after 7 months. You knew, and hated, how much Alex worried, but at a big ‘family’ get together, the whole room seemed to be waiting for you to have a breakdown. It was just a bit unnerving (especially when you were already on edge to begin with).
You shouldn’t be on edge. It was a normal get together. Something that the team did every year for the 4th of July in the days leading up to it. You were safe, surrounded by the people you loved the most.
You rubbed at the back of your neck, trying to flatten the hairs standing on end.
It was just so loud. You sat back into one of the lawn chairs, taking a big sip of your drink, and watching as a bunch of the youngins kicked a ball around with the kids. Your fingers flexed at a particular squeal, trying to prevent the images from flooding through your brain.
“If you hold that bottle any tighter, your fingers are going to fall off,” Tobin’s voice appeared like a tether, grounding you to the moment.
You rolled your shoulders, trying to shake the feelings swirling in the pit of your stomach. “It’s weird being around so many people.”
Tobin shrugged, side-eyeing you. “It’s not really different from practice.”
“It’s more… open,” You mumbled, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck.
Open wasn’t the right word, and both of you knew that. It was one thing to be around the team, but another to be around the team and their families.
You had never been the most social person on the planet. The fact that you were sitting in a chair not talking to anybody but Tobin was a fairly normal party experience for you. Still, this party felt like it was on a different level. One that only you hadn’t been given the cheat codes to.
Your fingers clenched at another particularly loud scream, and you gulped. Trying to push down the images, the feeling of him breathing down your neck, and the Yelp that followed the gunshot. You scanned the party. Alex was off mingling with your sisters and the various partners of your teammates like nothing was wrong.
“We all feel it too, you know,” Tobin said softly, tapping your hand.
Your eyes tightened and you opened and closed your mouth several times. You knew they all dealt with the fallout too, but sometimes you just felt so much like an outsider.
But before you could get the words out, you saw something flying towards you out of the corner of your eye.
You caught the ball just before it smacked into your face, glancing up at the little feet approaching you. You couldn’t help but smile at Charlie’s little toddler waddle.
“Careful darling. You gotta give me a heads up when you send a ball my way,” You said, holding your hands out to your toddler, and passing the ball to your sister-in-law.
She smiled impishly at you, grabbing your hands and letting you pull her into a hug “Sorry Mama,” she mumbled into your chest.
“It’s alright baby,” You said soothingly, running your fingers through her hair.
It was honestly so comforting to have her in your arms, feeling her safe in front of you. You knew your crazy mood swings had to be confusing for her, but you really did try to keep life as normal as possible for her. Physical contact was still difficult for you, but you made an exception with Charlie. She didn’t ask about the new bumps on your skin.
She didn’t stare at them, or give you pity eyes when she saw them.
Charlie tolerated you holding her still for a few minutes before she really began to fidget. She had definitely inherited your inability to sit still. “Go play?” She asked suddenly, reaching for the ball in Tobin’s arms.
You kissed her forehead and carefully released her, carefully holding her hands as she got down to make sure she didn’t stumble.
“Yeah kiddo, go have fun,” you said, winking at her.
“You come play with us,” She said, tugging your hand.
“You know I don’t play anymore baby. Why don’t you ask Mommy and Aunt Chris?” You explained softly.
“Want Youuu!” She whined, throwing her head back and attempting to yank you to your feet.
You sighed, shaking your head. “No kiddo, not today.”
“But Mama!” She stomped her foot emphatically. You saw Tobin covering her mouth in your peripheral vision, doing her best to hide her grin at what she too clearly thought was an adorable display of temper.
“No.” You said more firmly, giving your daughter the patented ‘mom’ look (which wasn’t as good as Alex’s but it was pretty close). “Go ask Mommy or Aunt Christen.”
Charlie dropped your hands with a pout. “You no fun anymore,”
“You know,” Tobin said, taking a sip of her drink, “it’s not that big a deal if you wanted to go play a game with the kiddos. It hardly counts as soccer, the rules they’re following.”
“I don’t play soccer anymore,” you said stiffly. “End of conversation.”
“I’m just saying, Y/n. You don’t have to play professionally to play soccer. A pick up game with your kid is not gonna hurt anyone, and you might even enjoy it. You went through a lot your last game, but it doesn’t have to be your last. You should at least consider going out on your own terms.”
You were about to respond to her. You had a response prepared. But all thoughts left your head as
BOOM. EEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee BOOM
Pop, pop, pop
“I think I need to go get a refill.”
*****
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Christen whispered, leaning over conspiratorially towards Alex. “Y/n looks so serious.”
“Maybe Tobin is asking for her blessing,” Alex said, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Don't joke with me like that. You know I’ve been dropping hints for months,” Christen said, slapping your girlfriend's shoulder.
“You know there’s nothing stopping you from asking first,” Alex said, trying not to laugh and looking back at you and Tobin.
“Perry already told me she was making a plan. Tobin never plans,” Christen mumbled.
“I know, you want her to have a chance to make it special,” Alex said, nodding, her heart melting just a bit at how carefully you were holding your daughter, and how you were letting her hold you.
Despite the strides you had made, you were still incredibly jumpy with physical contact. You barely tolerated hugs (or hand holding if you were anywhere near public sight).
It was nice to see you making an exception for your daughter. She just wished you would make an exception for her too. Hell, she wished you would acknowledge her in public at all.
“Little Miss looks like she’s about to have a serious meltdown,” Christen said, following Alex’s gaze. “Do you need to go handle that?”
Alex shook her head, as you leaned down so you were eye to eye with the toddler. “Looks like she’s got it.”
Even with your mood swings, you had never dropped the ball with Charlie. You got a little more stern than you had before, but nothing that made Alex worry.
“Well, if you’re sure.” Christen shrugged. “I know she wants to make it special, so I’m not going to ruin it for her. But if there was some chance you maybe heard something and wanted to give me a hint about what she was planning so I could get my nails done ahead of time, I wouldn’t mind.”
“I doubt Tobin would tell me over Y/n, but…” Alex jumped slightly and looked up at the first fireworks going off. The sun hadn’t even gone down yet and the actual 4th was still a few days out, but apparently Christen’s neighbors hadn’t gotten the message. “If it’s your nails you’re worried about… what’s going on?”
“Should we follow her?” Christen watched as you all but sprinted into the house, turning to look at Alex, then her girlfriend.
Tobin was out of her chair nearly as quick as you were, and already approaching the pair.
“I’ll-”
“I’m on my way inside anyway,” Sophia said, standing up from the chair she was sitting in a few feet away from Alex’s feet. Alex saw Christen blush slightly, wondering how much of their earlier conversation might have carried over to the youngin. “I’ll see if she’s alright while I’m there.”
“It’s fine Soph. I can handle it,” Alex said, already starting to stand from her chair.
“No, really. I’m already going in to get some more ice. And,” Sophia paused. “This many people is a bit overwhelming. Y/n and I will be fine. Inside.”
“If you’re sure,” Alex said, squinting at the youngin and her fidgeting fingers, trying to place the nervousness she could feel pouring off the woman.
Sophia smiled and saluted. “Absolutely.” Then she turned and walked towards the house.
*****
Your fingers gripped the white marble countertop so tightly that they were turning pale. Your mouth tasted metallic.
Another bang sounded from just behind the sliding glass doors. You bit your tongue harder. You weren’t actually smelling smoke in the air. The pain in your tongue battled with your memories. You could feel his arm loosen around your neck, the warm liquid hit your back as you fell, and his dead weight on top of you as you both hit the ground.
“Fuck,” you breathed out as the noises rang through your head. Another bang, and more cheers, echoing Alex’s and Christen’s screams that night as you fell.
You jumped slightly at the sound of the ice machine on the fridge beside you. Then a glass appeared in front of you and your hand reached up automatically to grab it. The cold from the glass burned into your skin, drawing you away from the heat of your memory.
“I thought this might help,” Sophia said, nodding at the glass and popping an ice cube straight into her mouth.
“Thanks,” you said, smiling warily at her. You placed the cool glass against your neck, gasping slightly as it touched your racing pulse. It reminded you that you weren’t in that moment, with him breathing down your neck. You were here, in your sister's house, surrounded by friends.
“Fhe cowd is wewy cawmem” Sophia said around her ice cube.
“Hmm, have you been spending too much time with Sonnett?” You mumbled, tipping the glass and catching an ice cube on your tongue.
The cold was almost like Lidocaine, numbing everywhere it touched as it seeped into your nerves. It slowed your brain and helped to clear the last vestiges of that night from your immediate thoughts.
Sophia leaned over and took the ice cube out of her mouth, dropping it in the sink. “Okay, MOM. I said the cold is weirdly calming.” She grinned at you, holding her own cup of ice against her cheek.
“Don’t let Charlie hear you say that. She doesn’t like to share,” You smirked, tipping your glass towards the young forward, just thinking about the tantrums your daughter had thrown when Emily kept calling you Mama Duck at camp because all of the youngins were following you around.
“I could tell. She’s kind of a ball hog, though she’s got a good pass when she remembers to.”
“She gets all her talent from Alex, trust me,” you snorted, swirling your ice cubes around.
“You inspired a lot of kids to play soccer when you were younger,” Sophia said, looking into her glass as she twirled her stack of ice with a finger. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
You gulped, swallowing down your retort and shoving another ice cube in your mouth instead.
You didn’t want to be a role model, or someone for people to look up to. How could you when you hadn’t even acknowledged people bleeding out in the hallway in your haste to get to Alex. How could you be when you couldn’t even hold yourself together long enough to enjoy a family barbecue.
“I know it’s probably not comforting, but I’m glad I’m not the only one who couldn’t sit through the fireworks,” Sophia said, opening the freezer and rummaging around. “Some of the other youngins thought to bring earplugs, but it’s not even the fourth yet so I didn’t expect them. Oooh, ice cream sandwiches.”
“We forgot that the ordinance allows idiots to try and blow themselves up 3 days before and after the 4th, so we weren’t prepared either. But even with ear plugs the actual day is going to suck,” You said with a shrug, trying to pretend it didn’t bother you. “Hand me an ice pop would ya? I don’t want Tobin to be upset we’re eating the only processed crap Christen let’s her bring in the house.”
“Cherry, grape, or orange?”
You scrunched your nose and shook your head. Sophia had a lot to learn about digging through freezers if she was going to make it on the team.
“The mango ones she hides under the gross lemon ices,” You said with a wave of your hand. Your sister always held the good goods under the foods she knew you hated when you were younger.
“Yaasss!” Sophia dug deeper into the freezer more and extracted two mango ice pops. She handed one to you and then bumped the freezer closed with her hip, opening her own. “And tell me about it. I live walking distance from a park where they hold a giant fireworks display every year. I might die if I had to listen, that’s why some of us are planning a camping trip. Want me to throw your wrapper away for you?”
“Which some of you?” You asked suspiciously, handing your wrapper to the younger girl.
You knew they were all chomping at the bit to ‘thank’ you for whatever (despite your adamant stance that no thanks was needed), but you didn’t want to be involved in a pitty trip.
“I forget whether it was my idea or Morgan’s idea first, but some others heard about it and wanted to come along. Thus far I think we’ve got me, Abby, Mal, Rose, Morgan, Emily, Lindsey, Midge, Sam and Kristie. Lindsey did some research on the closest camping sites we could go to that would be far away enough that we didn’t hear the city fireworks, and found one in a wilderness area or national forest or something.” Sophia smiled wickedly and bit into her ice pop. “Bastards can’t set off their noisy fucking fire hazards near protected forest.”
“You know, Charlie’s never been camping. Someone’s going to have to teach her to make the perfect s’more,” You said, your lips ticking up. The forest with no loud booms did sound like a fantastic way to spend the holiday.
****
Present
“It had to be strange for you to want nothing to do with soccer,” Julie smirked, sharing a look with Alex.
You laughed. “I just told you that I had to practically hide in a freezer to get away from some fireworks, and THAT’S what you took away from that story?”
Julie shrugged, more for your benefit than the audience listening at home. “You also told me that fireworks were your first thought when the incident started, so I wasn't surprised. So many vets and survivors also have similar responses. But for someone of your caliber, I kinda expected you to find comfort in soccer. It seemed like you might after the story of your tactics talk with the youngsters at practice.”
“Yeah, I see what you mean,” you nodded thoughtfully. “I think, at least once I got to the point where I had recovered enough to THEORETICALLY play, it felt like there was a lot of pressure. Like every time I got near a ball there were imaginary eyes boring into me and waiting for me to lose control.”
“Charlie seemed like she was pretty insistent to get you to play with her,” Julie said with a wry smile.
“And in the end, Charlie was the one I started playing for,” you said, wiggling your fingers at the toddler squirming in Alex’s arms. “At least until I realized I wanted to play for myself.”
****
7.5 months
When you were little, you were obsessed with the little thumping sound your foot made when it came into contact with the ball. You spent hours mastering those sounds, and your ball control was impeccable as a result (even better than Tobin’s if you did say so yourself).
You always relished in that control. When everything was going wrong in your life, the one king you could dictate was where that ball went.
Maybe that’s why you were itching to pick it up again. Or maybe it was just that you were happy to relax for once and enjoy that the forest was quiet enough for you to actually hear the ball.
The woods just… absorbed the noise of your teammates chatting, and the other national park patrons milling about. The trees made you feel safe (even if that was seemingly ridiculous). No one would break the serenity to try and harm you here.
You shifted a bit in your chair as Emily, Sophia and Morgan very carefully juggled the ball around your giggling toddler.
They were pretty good. Not as good as you or Tobin, but not as bad as some of your other friends.
“No emmy. Do the around the world,” Charlie directed, clapping her hands gleefully at the ball tricks.
You saw Emily grimace and glance around the camp, scanning. There were situations where Sonnet was willing to do skills she hadn’t perfected yet, but around your toddler who didn’t know to duck away from the ball yet was not one of them.
“I’m not sure I can do that one short stack. We might have to ask Aunt Tobin,” Her eyes held yours for an extra second before she continued looking around the treeline.
“Mama can do it better than Aunt Toby,” Charlie said, grabbing the ball and walking towards you.
“Which is why I was going to give Aunt Tobin a chance to practice,” Emily said, catching up to Charlie and trying to redirect her away from your orbit, “besides, your mama still has half her drink left, so we don’t want to bother her while her hands are full.”
You sighed, Tobin’s reminder from Christen’s party ringing in your head.
You wanted to do this on your own terms.
“It’s alright, I’ll do it,” you said, sticking your drink in the arm-chair’s cup holder and standing up. You walked forward to take the ball from your gleeful child before you could think about it. “Take a step back while I warm up though, okay? Mama might need a second to find her footing."
You twirled the ball in your hands, focusing on the dappled light that shone on it through the trees from the setting sun. You dropped it onto the ground at your feet, taking a deep breath.
You flicked the ball with your foot, almost making it balance on the toe box of your shoe, but grimincing when it rolled off instead.
“What, are you losing your touch in your old age?” Sophia snickered.
“Watch it pipsqueak,” You huffed, trying to act angry at her even as a grin flicked across your face. Honestly, her teasing was more motivating than any words of encouragement would have been, nothing like a bit of competition to get you fired up. You shook your head and again flicked the ball, but caught it this time.
Something in your chest relaxed as you began to successfully juggle the ball. It wasn’t anything fancy, hell you probably wouldn’t have even bothered with the moves a year ago, but it was a start.
“Yay Mama!” Charlie cheered. Emily was holding your wiggling toddler a few meters away, clearly trying to make sure she didn’t get in the way of the ball. “Now do the around the world! Please!!!!!”
“Yeah y/n maybe you can teach Em while you’re at it,” Morgan said, taking a sip of her beer. Emily elbowed her in the side, and she sputtered as she spilled a sip of the lager on herself.
“She’s hopeless, even Tobin gave up,” Lindsey snorted, shaking her head. That was an understatement. Emily had pushed the normally chill midfield so far she yelled at the poor girl.
“Y/n are you going to do the dumb trick or not?” Emily asked, glaring daggers at Lindsey.
You shrugged, bouncing the ball off your knee a few times easily. You had the mechanics, it should be fine.
You bit your lip, catching the ball off your knee and sending it up again. You felt like the collective intake of breath the youngins took as you circled your calf around it before catching it on your toe box yet again.
“Yes Y/n!”
“Nice!”
But no cheer was louder than your daughter’s “yay Mama!”
“Again, again!” She clapped, drawing a smile from your lips. Your chest puffed up just a bit. You were proud you could get her to smile again.
You flicked the ball up, catching it on your nose before dropping it yet again. You kicked it between your feet a few times, prepping to juggle, before suddenly a foot darted between yours to stop the ball and flick it away.
“You’re losing your touch grandma,” Morgan said giggling, as you battled to keep control of the ball. You almost got it back from her and she quickly kicked it towards Sophia.
You raced off to get it, almost gaining possession after an ill fated elastico from Sophia, but Emily toed it away before you could.
“You guys don’t play fair,” You grumbled, your smile never leaving your face. “It’s 3 on one,”
“Come on mama, get it,” Charlie clapped, running off towards Emily.
“More like 4 on 1 and a half,” Lindsey smirked, stepping in and taking possession from her girlfriend.
“You guys are trying to kill me.”
*****
“Just pretend like you’re not watching,” Alex hissed under her breath, watching you out of the corner of her eye. Christen and Tobin ignored her, cheering with the rest of the camp as you juggled the ball around the world. Alex smiled at the grin on your face, relaxing as you continued your dance with the soccer ball. It was good to see you so happy.
“She’s still got it,” Christen said, “As though it hasn’t been more than a week since she touched a ball.” Your sister shook her head, amazed and proud at the skill in your muscle memory. “Absolutely ridiculous. Has she been better about touch and stuff?”
“With Charlie yeah,” Alex turned and watched you chase after Sophia. Charlie was ecstatic, so you must have been having fun. Charlie reflected your mood like a mirror. “She’s been way more involved with Charlie at home too,”
“Is this the first time she’s played soccer with Charlie again?” Tobin asked, sipping her drink.
“Yeah,” Alex nodded, biting her lip. You had practically banished all the balls from your house after the incident.
“Well whoever asked her to do a trick was absolutely brilliant,” Christen said. “You know she can’t resist showing off for Charlie, especially on a skill she worked so hard to perfect.” Christen cupped her hands around her mouth. “Come on Emily, kick her butt!” You turned and stuck out your tongue at her before chasing after Emily and the stolen ball.
“I think it was Charlie. I swear, all she has to do is bat her eyes and Y/n melts,” Alex laughed as Lindsey and Emily double teamed you to keep you from finally getting the ball from Sophia.
“Mommy, come on, Mama needs your help!” Charlie ran over and grabbed Alex’s hand. “Aunt Emmy wont play fair!”
“She won’t?! You guys need back up huh?” Alex grinned leaning down just a bit.
“Yes, right now! You need to play on Mama’s team so it will be fair!” Charlie said bouncing as she dragged a laughing Alex towards your scrimmage. Tobin and Christen watched as Alex ran over and surprised Lindsey by kicking the ball from behind her over to you. Charlie laughed and clapped as you and Alex passed the ball back and forth, keeping it away from your four teammates.
“I couldn’t have planned this better if I tried,” Christen whispered. Your smile at Alex reminded her of how you were before your mom died. So relaxed, and free of the sadness of her death and of the weight of unexpected motherhood on your shoulders. Charlie was one of the lights of your life, but Christen could still remember you crying into a vodka soda in her living room before she was born, berating yourself for not wearing protection, worrying about whether you would need a lawyer to fight for custody if your relationship with Alex ever fell apart.
“They’re gonna be alright I think,” Tobin said, wrapping her arm around Christen’s shoulder and leaning her head against Christen’s.
Christen swore she heard your mom's chuckle by her other ear and a warm hand brush her free one. “Yeah, they’ll figure it out.”
****
The campfire flickered, moths and other bugs flitting above it in the darkness. You watched it from your place in the circle, listening to the sounds of the crickets and Alex helping Charlie brush her teeth in the background.
Your teammates were sitting at their own spots around the fire (assigned pretty forcefully by your daughter during desert). Tobin leaned against Christen, wrapped in her arms as they whispered to each other. Sophia and Morgan were debating making another smore (once Charlie couldn’t see and protest the two smores each rule), and Emily and Lindsey were playing what seemed to be a very competitive card game on the ground.
“Okay I’m done Mama,” Charlie said, appearing on your right and climbing up into your lap.
You wrapped your arms around her, squeezing her tightly before kissing her on her head and releasing her. “I think it’s bedtime for little lady bugs,” you said, gesturing at the tent where Alex was waiting to tuck Charlie in.
“Story first,” She demanded, cuddling deeper into your chest, and rubbing her head on your shoulder.
“Yeah, story time Y/n” Emily said with a smirk, tossing a marshmallow at you.
You batted it away, smiling as Alex came over and sat down next to you with a sigh. Now that Aunt Emmy agreed you should tell a story there would be no end to it unless you told one. “Which story does my lady bug want to hear? The one of the brave knights defeating the orange dragons and saving the princess?”
“The one with the sun and the moon,” Charlie said, grabbing your arms and wrapping them around her. Story times were a very serious affair, and everything had to be just so. Specifically, she needed to be in a hug the whole time.
“Ah yes,” you smiled. You looked up at the stars, some barely visible through the gaps in the tree canopy. The moon shone in a silver crescent, a cheshire cat grinning down at you as you began your story. You looked back at the outline of the fire. “A long long time ago-”
“Before the dinosaurs?” Charlie and Emily said simultaneously. Around you conversation dimmed, and you saw the youngins scooch closer to you to listen.
“In a time way before the dinosaurs,” You said dramatically, drawing out the “waaaaaay'' and eliciting a giggle from everyone listening.
Your voice turned serious again, easily hushing the crowd as you continued. “The sun shone so bright above the sky. The people loved her so much. They loved to dance and play under her warmth.”
“They played soccer?”
“Some of them,” you said, smiling at your daughter, who knew the story as well as you did, but always begged you to tell it.
“Only the cool ones.”
You raised your eyebrows at the blond defender as your daughter pouted at the interruption. Only she was allowed to interrupt your stories.
“The sun would look down and see them, and realize how lonely she was high up in the sky. She wondered if she would ever find someone who wanted to play with her too.”
“What bout the moon,” Charlie asked.
“Well the moon was always gorgeous. She would rise when the sun got tired, with a necklace of her stars. People loved her so much that they stayed up to watch her and her friends. The sun longed to meet the moon, but all she could get were brief glances. The moon was unreachable, but the sun tried. She stayed up as long as she could to see the moon and her beauty, but she knew that she was too bright. She had to set in order for people to see the moon’s radiance.”
“The sun loved the moon,” Charlie asked, looking up at you with wide eyes.
“So, so, so much,” You nodded, kissing your daughter's forehead.
“One night the moon stopped the sun before she could set. She was sad that they could never be together. But the sun said that she would grow cold and dark every day if that’s what it took for the moon to truly shine.”
“Did they get to live happily ever after?” Emily interrupted this time, her voice slightly wet. She always teared up at the story, no matter how many hundreds of times you had told it.
“Yeah they did. The moon reminded the sun that she was a reflection of the sun's brightness. The only way they could light up the sky was by working together,” Alex said, reaching up to squeeze Charlie’s dangling foot, to Charlie’s squealing delight.
You blinked up, your eyes locking with Alex and latching onto her words. She was the moon standing out despite being amongst millions of stars. It was hard to remember that you could shine bright too sometimes.
“Now I think it’s bedtime little one,” Alex said, standing and reaching down to pick Charlie up. Charlie settled happily onto her hip, satisfied enough by the story to not protest. “Want to give mama a kiss before you go?”
“Night, night mama,” Alex helped Charlie lean down and give you a kiss on the cheek. You accepted it, and gave her a loud kiss back on the forehead. Then you hesitated, and pulled Alex down as well. You saw her eyes widen before her lips gently touched yours. It wasn’t your first kiss since the incident, but it was the first in front of anyone but your toddler.
It was nice. Her lips were slightly sweet from the chocolate and sticky from the marshmallow, with just a hint of her beer in the background. It reminded you of your first kiss, sweetened by Cotton candy and funnel cakes all those years ago. Your fingers hooked in her belt loops holding her closer to you for an extra second. The extra second you would always savor.
The wolf whistles and Charlie’s squeal of “gross mama” were drowned out by Alex’s little hum. You couldn’t help but smirk a bit. You still had that spark even after all this time.
Then she stood, glowing red in the firelight, and whispered “I’ll see you in a bit,” before she carried Charlie to the tent.
*****
Alex Morgan was the most gorgeous woman you had ever seen. There was never any question about that. It didn’t matter if she was dressed to the nines for a night out, or covered in sweat with no makeup on.
You always knew she was beautiful, but sitting here with the glow of the fire, she was absolutely stunning.
You felt a bit like a teenager, stealing glances around each sip of your beer.
The youngins had opted for some more smores, and were now in their tents winding down from their sugar crashes. Tobin and Christen were walking hand and hand somewhere in the treeline, probably looking for a nice place for some alone time. You heard the whisper of a podcast playing from Emily and Lindsey’s tent, as they had apparently settled their argument about whether to listen to Welcome to Night Vale or Nothing Much Happens before falling asleep. Sitting here by the crackling of the embers with Alex, you felt completely alone. You reached out and Alex’s hand naturally wound itself around yours.
“So, do you want to talk about that kiss earlier?” Alex, said, the smile on her face illuminated in the glow of the fire.
“It was nice. I like kissing you. You know that,” You said with a half shrug, taking a sip of your beer.
“I like kissing you too.”
You nodded, way too seriously and smirked at her “It’d be kinda bad if you didn’t. Might make this whole thing super awkward,”
“Yeah, sharing a tent might get a little uncomfortable,” Alex said dryly. “But, I liked that you kissed me in front of them. I mean, not in a weird way, but, you know. I thought it might mean, you might want us to be official?”
“I thought having a kid together made us kinda tied for life,” You chuckled, shifting a little bit uncomfortably in your chair.
“Always and forever,” Alex said, smiling at you, “And I know I didn’t want to be public before, but I’m ready. I’m ready to marry you and be out, to everyone.”
“I think you’ve had too many of these,” You mumbled, flicking the half full beer in Alex’s hand. “Why don’t we just put off this conversation until tomorrow. You know, when we’re both more clear headed.”
“Because tomorrow we will have a toddler to overhear us, not to mention several gossip mongers we call teammates. And I really didn’t think it would need to be a conversation. You wanted us to be official for years. Isn’t that what we were fighting about before we went on a break last, um. You know, the last time we were on a break,” Alex mumbled.
You smiled grimly. “I think we were fighting because Arsenal offered me a contract and you wanted to keep Charlie in Orlando with you.”
“Oh,” Alex said lamely. “I thought there was more to it than that.”
“You took Charlie to Tottenham for 3 months without me, and I understood that. I just wanted you to understand that I wanted time with her too,” you said softly, squeezing Alex’s hand. “I’m her parent too.”
“Yes, I know,” Alex said, squeezing your hand, “I never meant to make you feel that you weren’t. I think at the time I was just caught up in the logistics. Sharing her with you seemed the same as coming out, since people would notice if I was flying my toddler to London.” Alex took a deep breath and moved to sit in front of you, holding your gaze. “But I’m not scared of coming out anymore. And I want you to know that. I want to come out, I want to marry you. I want to update my facebook status, as though that isn’t something people stopped doing in middle school!”
You gulped. That wasn’t something you were ready for. You didn’t know if you would ever be ready for it.
“Thank you,” you said softly. “I know I should be really happy about that, because I love you. But no. Beyond the team I don’t want to be public.”
Alex frowned. She sat back on her heels, but didn’t let go of your hand. “But why? It’s not because. You’re not ashamed of us, are you?”
“What? No! That’s not-“ You sputtered, practically spitting out your beer. “That doesn’t have anything to do with it.”
Alex smiled at the shock on your face. If ever there was confirmation that she was wrong that was it. “Can you tell me why then?” She asked gently.
You lifted her hand and kissed it. “I promise I will someday, if you are willing to wait for me to find the words.”
Alex nodded, accepting the communication technique Clarke had implemented in your relationship. You would open up to her, you just needed time to find the courage, or to put words to the feelings first.
“I love you,” You said earnestly.
“I love you too,” Alex said, leaning forward to kiss you slowly. “Come one, let’s get some sleep. Lindsey set an alarm for a sunrise hike.”
“Ugh. Not one of those again. I thought the disaster in Hawaii was enough,” You sighed dramatically into the kiss, and Alex laughed again. The tension between you two disappearing as quickly as it had come.
*****
9 months
You looked up at the walls of the stadium, trying to remember how to step forward. The door was only meters away, you had been through it hundreds of times, but your feet weren’t moving. Today just felt different.
“Y/n?” Tobin said, walking quickly up from behind you. You groaned internally. Of all the people to see you hesitate, the one who had your significant other on speed dial would not have been top of the list. You were fine, you didn’t even feel nervous. You weren’t nervous. “Are you okay? Should I call Alex?”
“I’m fine,” you said quickly, adjusting the strap on your bag. “Just taking it in.”
“You’ve been ‘taking in’ that door for 10 minutes,” Tobin snorted, shaking her head.
“It’s my first full field practice for Portland in months, can’t I savor the moment?”
“Alex said to call her if you started being weird, even if you said you were fine,”Tobin mumbled, shifting her shoulder strap. Both your girlfriend and her own had made her swear to keep an eye on you when they went back to their respective clubs, and she didn’t know how comfortable she was hiding that you were practicing with the Thorns again.
“Can you wait until after Y/n and I have had a chance to take in the stadium, Heath? It’s supposed to be a quiet ritual.” You turned to look at Sinc, hiding your quizzical expression from Tobin.
“Whatever you two say,” Tobin mumbled, deciding that this fight wasn’t worth it. You were an adult that could make your own decisions.
You both waited for Tobin to be safely inside the stadium before Christine nudged your side. “Alright kid, spill.”
You smiled at her, then turned back to look at the doors to the tunnel. A tunnel to the locker rooms and under the stadium, one almost identical to the last one you had been in. Over 9 months ago. You exhaled “I just. This is the first step. It’s one I have to make, I want to make.”
“You’re rambling,” Christine said, elbowing you again.
“You’re mean,” you made a face at her but couldn’t help grinning.
“I can always call Alex and let her hash this out with you,” She shrugged, flinching away when you sent a particularly hard slap to her stomach.
“You do that and I will climb the wall of this stadium so I can get onto the field and kick your ass in drills.”
“You know, Jessie had a panic attack at the first Team Canada practice back. She couldn’t go near the tunnel,” Sinc said softly, her voice reminiscent of the tone everyone used with Charlie when she was at practice with you. “She got changed at the hotel and came in through the front door.”
“And what about you, oh fearless Captain Canada?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and shifting the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “Locker rooms are no sweat for you?”
Sinc cleared her throat, suddenly finding a crack in the pavement very interesting. “I think I stand with most of the Canadian side when I say that the showers give us the most anxiety. We could hear it all in there you know. I still hear the echoes of it at night.”
You bit your lip, not sure if you had crossed a line. “Oh. That must make the end of practices fun.”
“Oh ya betcha, the bus reeks. But it’s what we have to do to feel comfortable.” She shrugged, and you couldn’t help the next thought that went through your head. If only Alex had ended up with them instead of in the showers across the hall.
But then the entire Canadian side would probably be a lot lighter. His number would have definitely been bigger, and you didn’t doubt he would have made them all pay for your defiance.
You shook your head as though it would clear your thoughts and turned back to the door. If you just took five steps...
“What are you two sad saps staring at? The door totally isn’t that interesting,” Your head snapped around to meet Kling’s jubilant smile. It was almost infectious.
“Oh, I’m just nervous about going into the stadium and Y/n is keeping me company,” Sinc said, smiling wryly at you.
Klings head tilted to the side, reminding you a bit of an over curious puppy, her eyes bouncing rapidly between you and Christine.
Sinc looked back at the stadium, and held her keys tightly. You noticed she had a tiny can of pepper spray that you had never noticed before. “I don’t know if I’ll ever play another game where there’s not at least a part of me worried that someone in the audience has darker intentions.”
“First, it’s a boring practice. I’m pretty sure all we’ll be doing is the beep test and some shitty drills,” Klings said, throwing her arms over the two of your shoulders. You wiggled out from underneath her, trying to hold in your cringe at the sudden contact.
“And second?” You asked, rolling your eyes with a grin.
“The USSF doesn’t give enough fucks to get us actual grass. No one cares enough about the NWSL for an asshole to come play shoot ’em up at one of our practices in lieu of a political statement.”
You snorted while Christine doubled over laughing. “You’re the worst.”
“Love you too, babes!” Kling blew kisses over her shoulder as she walked into the stadium.
Christine shook her head, still smiling. She straightened and adjusted her bag on her shoulder before striding forward and pulling open the door. Then she turned to look back at you. “You ready?”
You took a deep breath and nodded, walking forward into the stadium. “As I’m ever gonna be,”
*****
Ten months
You wanted this night to be absolutely perfect. It was your anniversary and this year needed to be more special than ever. Alex deserved to be wowed after everything the two of you had been through this year.
So you had pulled out all the stops.
Charlie was at Krashlyns house for the night. You had gone to get food from her favorite restaurant, and split dessert from the cheesecake factory. Candles lit your dinner, the light sparkling in her eyes as she looked at you over the rim of her wine glass. The two of you had talked and laughed and it felt reminiscent of a time before the incident.
“After you m’lady,” You smiled, pulling open the front door for Alex with a little bow. She giggled, tilting your chin up with gentle fingers and placing a very sweet kiss on your lips.
“Such the gentlewoman,” she said, her breath fanning across your lips. “I had fun tonight,”
You smirked, pulling her in for another kiss. Gentlewoman was not exactly the term you’d use, knowing your next plan for the night. “I’m glad. You deserve a little fun.”
She giggled at your little eyebrow wiggle, smiling against your lips.
It was nice to feel this carefree again.
You pecked her lips one more time before pulling away and gesturing her through the door.
“You just want me to go first so you can stare at my ass,” Alex said, swatting your side gently with her purse before walking though.
When she noticed you hesitate in the hallway behind her she turned around, walking back to you and closing the front door. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Her hands cupped your cheeks, pulling your lip from between your teeth gently with her thumb.
“I thought maybe we could cap it off with a bath? We used to love those,” You murmured softly, a light blush covering your cheeks.
Alex didn’t think her smile could get any wider. She had forgotten what it looked like for you to be this kind of nervous.
“I think that sounds perfect,” she breathed out, pecking your lips again.
You chased her lips as she pulled away, your blush deepening when her fingers tangled in the baby hairs at the back of your neck. She pushed you backwards, pinning you against the doorframe.
But it didn’t bother you. You didn’t feel the uncomfortable tingle at the back of your neck that had followed you since the incident.
You were too wrapped up in Alex and meeting her tongue with yours, and how warm and comfortable you felt. How safe she made you feel.
She pulled away again, tracing her thumb over your lips (wiping away a smudge of her lipstick). “The bath?” She asked.
You nodded, your mouth still hung slightly open and your cheeks a light shade of pink.
How she had missed seeing you like this, and you trusting her to see you like this.
Her fingers traced down your arm to grasp your hand tightly and pulled you into the house.
The stroll to the master bathroom was slow, and deliberate. Filled with smiles and stolen kisses.
God you felt like a teenager, so addicted to Alex.
You couldn’t even make it up the stairs without pulling her back in for a kiss. It felt good to let yourself indulge in your feelings for her, to allow yourself to just be.
But when you finally got to the bathroom your nerves returned. You awkwardly turned on the water, before looking back at your girlfriend.
Your hands clenched and unclenched at your sides. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to proceed. You two hadn’t been this intimate in nearly 10 months. It was another layer of vulnerability that you didn’t know how to initiate.
But Alex’s warm hands on your cheeks and soft voice kept you grounded.
“It’s ok Y/n,” She said.
And you knew that she was giving you permission, either to continue or to not.
Your fingers found her hips and slipped under the hem of her shirt, running circles on the warm skin of her sides. “You’re sure?” You asked, your eyes flickering up to meet hers.
“With you, always,” She murmured, helping you take off her shirt.
The little knot in your chest loosened a little at the act, and you felt your confidence grow as each garment came off.
This wasn’t new to you, and despite the pause in your physical relationship, you knew this side to Alex like the back of your hand. You knew where to press and where to run your fingers to get her to relax, just like she knew how to turn you into putty in her hands.
You felt completely at ease by the time she was bare in front of you. She hooked a finger under your chin and pulled you up for a steamy but sweet kiss.
“Are you going to let me help undress you too?” Alex asked against your lips, her voice earnest.
You gave her a very short nod, closing your eyes tightly. How would she react when she saw the scars? Sure you had gained some muscle back, but you were nowhere near where you had been before the incident.
“Hey, look at me,” Alex said, a finger running across your cheek. Your eyes blinked open to meet worried blue. “Are you sure? We don’t have to do this,” She said, and you knew that if you said the words it would all stop. You wouldn’t have to take the next steps, you wouldn’t have to expose yourself.
But you wanted to.
“I want to. I’m just. Nervous,” Your voice shook a little at the admission.
Alex held your hips, running her thumbs in little circles at your waist. “I’ll be gentle, I promise,” she whispered against your lips.
“I trust you,” You breathed out. And Alex searched your eyes for something you couldn’t place.
Once she found whatever she was looking for, she very slowly and carefully began to undress you.
You hissed when she accidentally brushed one of the thick scars on your thigh where they had put a central line in.
She paused, looking up at you for permission to continue. Sure she had seen the new lines that littered your skin, but you had never allowed her to touch them. It was as if letting her touch them was admitting you were broken, and that terrified you.
But you wanted to give her that.
You wanted to let her see your vulnerability. You wanted to share that part of you with her.
You nodded. “You can touch them, if you want.”
Alex kept eye contact with you as she slowly pressed into the scar. A shiver ran down your spine when her lips joined her hands, both taking off your pants and pressing little kisses into the line.
She followed the same process as each of your scars was revealed.
By the time she was finished you felt like you could melt into the cracks of the tile, with heat emanating from the crisscrossed lines across your body where she had kissed you. Stepping into the warm water only aided in that feeling.
“Let me just get some lavender oil,” She said.
Your eyes were glued to her form. God how did you get so lucky?
You remembered the first time the two of you had ever done this. How absolutely enamored your 18 year old self was. It was absolutely amazing that those feelings hadn’t really changed. Hell, they had only intensified.
“What?”
You blushed a bit at being caught staring. Your finger tapped erratically on the side of the tub.
“Remember the first time we did this?” You asked, cracking a whishful smile.
Alex let out a laugh at the memory, placing a few drops of oil into the water. “Yeah, you were so nervous you tripped over the side and almost face planted in the water,”
You giggled too. You had almost broken your nose that night, but it was all worth it. It had ended well anyway.
Alex paused at the edge of the tub, hesitating again. “Can I?” She asked, gesturing towards your lap.
It was normal for her to sit facing you when the two of you were in the tub. But she didn’t want to cross a line you weren’t ready to cross.
“Yeah,” You hummed, leaning back to allow her to sit.
She stepped gracefully into the water, leaning against your arms that naturally rose up to envelop her. You leaned into her head, closing your eyes for a moment to just sense her. The smell of her damp hair, even as she soaked in lavender. The feeling of her muscular shoulder on your arm. Her smooth ankle rubbing like a cricket against yours. Her.
“I’m not ashamed. I think you know that, but I felt like I had to say it out loud,” You said softly, running gentle circles on the smooth skin of Alex's back.
You felt her sudden intake of breath at the change in subject, but now felt like a good time to have this conversation. You were both open and relaxed and ready to listen.
She pulled back, but not out of your arms.
“Ashamed of what?” She asked, brushing a curl from your face.
“I’m not ashamed of you and Charlie,” You said gazing into her eyes.
“But you still don’t want to marry me?” Alex tilted her head sideways, but she sounded less hurt and more curious.
“I do. It’s just,” you paused, biting your lips and trying to gather the last bit of courage to finally explain. “The only reason you got to walk out of that stadium was because he didn’t know that we were together. If we get married and go public, you lose that option with the next crazy who shows up.”
“Babe,” Alex said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you and Charlie,” You breathed out, squeezing your eyes shut.
Alex cupped your cheeks, rubbing her thumbs under your eyes to wipe away your tears. “Babe, we’ve talked about this. We’re a team. You don’t have to carry the weight of it all on your shoulders.”
“It’s just…You’re the sun and I’m the moon. I would die every night if I had to in order to let you spread your light,” You recited.
She shook her head, with a small smile (cursing the story you had always been obsessed with just a bit). “You’re the moon and I’m the starrs. We light up the night sky together.”
You rolled your eyes, her amusement infectious. “I want to be out with you, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to protect you,” You said earnestly, kissing each of her hands and leaning into them.
“Babe, we protect each other. And we both protect Charlie. How about we take small steps. We don’t have to do a big announcement. We can be like Chris and Tobs, and just be,” She said, in the voice she always used to explain difficult things to Charlie (like how she couldn’t pull Blue’s tail).
“Small steps?” You asked, gently pulling Alex in for a kiss.
“Small steps,” She confirmed, finally closing the distance.
The kiss was slow and langued, expressing all the emotions that you couldn’t put into words.
“Hey, how would you feel if one of those steps included me on the field?” You asked suddenly, a much envious grin on your lips.
“Like playing?”
“Maybe…” You smirked, and Alex raised an eyebrow at you. You never just ‘maybe’ did things. “Possibly trying for an Olympic spot?” you said, more like a question than a sure fire plan.
The smile that broke across Alex’s face was absolutely blinding.
Soccer wasn’t just your career, it was a passion the two of you could share. There was nothing quite like embracing after a big goal or a big win. It wasn’t something you wanted to completely give up on her.
“I think I would love that,” Alex said, her eyes darting across your face and lower. And as both of your gazes strayed from each other's faces you were reminded of another passion you both shared.
******
Present time
“And here you are. Fresh off a successful beginning of the season with the Portland Thorns,” Julie said.
“Yes! Thank god they took me from North Carolina,” You laughed softly, ignoring Alex’s eye roll.
At least you were in the same time zones when you played for North Carolina.
“No offense to any North Carolina fans watching, of course,” Julie said, leaning into a microphone with a grin, “But I think I can say on behalf of all Thorns fans that we are very lucky you decided to play soccer again. You scored, what, three of the goals last game?”
“Four and an offside,” Alex said from the corner.
“Four and an offside, not to mention assisting in most of the other goals that game.”
“It was against Kansas City, it doesn’t really count,” You shrugged.
“I think Rachel Corsie might disagree with you there,” Julie said, smiling at you, “But if Kansas doesn’t count, let's talk Olympics. The camps for the olympic roster are coming up. How are you feeling about competing? Are you competing?”
“You know, for a long time I gave up on being USWNT quality. I let that dream go a year ago. And now, I think I’m just starting to realize that I might not have to,” you said, looking at Alex and Charlie. “But I don’t think that whether I compete with the national team again is the important thing to focus on. That’s all everyone has been asking since my name appeared on the camp call up sheet, but by focusing on me, and my relatively unimportant decision in the grand scheme of things, we’re overlooking the people who should be remembered this week. For this camp. For this game.”
Julie stayed silent, nodding at you to continue. You swallowed. “There were 39 people who never got to walk out of that stadium. Who paid the price for our society’s acceptance of homophobia with their lives. We should be focusing on honoring them and their families.”
“Thank you Y/n. Listeners, let’s have a moment of silence in honor of these players, fans, coaching staff, and other team faculty who died at the game last year.” You saw Julie close her eyes, and you watched Charlie bounce on Alex’s legs as the silence filled the room.
Julie opened her eyes and leaned back into the microphone. “All of the jerseys on the field tonight will be signed and auctioned off with all proceeds going to the Trevor project. Thank you everyone for listening, and thank you for joining us today Y/n.”
“Happy to be here Julie.”
*****
You looked up at the bright blue sky as you sat down in the stadium. It was perfect weather, with a cool summer breeze in the air. You smiled at the roar of the crowd filling the stadium, Charlie bouncing on your lap in front of you. Families weren’t usually allowed in the Camp section, but Charlie was given an exception (she was a staple at camp with you and Alex after all).
On the field in front of you, team Canada was filing into line, raising their arms to acknowledge the cheers of the crowd. Charlie stood on your legs and started cheering “Yay aunt Sincy!” and you held her hands and cheered for Christine with her.
Then the announcer started calling your teammates onto the field. “This year’s starting lineup. Number 1, Alyssa Naeher, Number 3, Sam Mewis…”
Like Team Canada, your teammates had specially designed pride jerseys. Like last year, the numbers were rainbows, but one of this year’s new additions were black sleeves. Dark black sleeves with 39 stars in a large variety of colors. The captains’ armbands were also black, with a little rainbow band of 39 names circling the center.
It was the perfect memorial. The best way to make sure that the right people were remembered, and you were so proud that US Soccer and The Canadian Soccer Association had okayed the way the teams wanted to honor the anniversary.
They had agreed to the jersey designs, as well as to the minute of silence the teams were going to have before kickoff. Both teams would meet in the center of the stadium to hold hands and remember their mutual losses. And the anthems of both teams would be played tonight, no matter who won or lost.
But the biggest surprise was the one you were the most nervous about.
To someone who didn’t know soccer, they wouldn’t think twice about the little swap. They wouldn’t question why a USWNT vet suddenly decided to switch numbers. They wouldn’t connect the dots to your barely concealed announcement.
But the fans would know. They would understand exactly what the message you were sending them was as Alex walked out into the light of the stadium wearing your number instead of her own (which was left empty because you may or may not have laid claim to it). She raised a hand as the announcer called her, “Number 18, Alex Morgan.”
Tobin patted her back as she joined the line, her eyes finding yours in the crowd.
“Yay, Mommy!” Charlie yelled, standing on her seat and waving frantically to Alex.
She waved back, and then met your eyes, both of you smiling. In that moment it was just the two of you in the stadium, and you took a deep breath, finally able to breathe again.
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13uswntimagines · 3 years
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Toddler Tantrums (Preath x Child!Reader)
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Request: preath with a toddler story and them dealing with toddler tantrums?
Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog​
Christen and Tobin considered themselves blessed. You were a pretty easy kid most of the time, having inherited Tobin’s chill temperament and Christen’s wide smile. As long as you had your favorite stuffed buddy Roary, you were good to go. 
But even the most well-behaved toddlers had bad days, especially when they were learning to deal with all their big emotions. 
Your mamas had travelling with you down to a science. 
It had to be to get you through the dreaded airport without incident. You didn’t like loud noises or big crowds, but you loved routine. By making the process as similar as possible between trips, they were able to head off a magnitude of issues before they ever happened (something your overzealous aunts had learned the hard way). 
They always explained each step in the journey, like where you were landing and how long each flight was, and you had been through enough airports you knew exactly what to expect despite only being 3. 
But even with the most meticulous planning, there were always things they couldn’t quite account for. 
Like some idiot on Twitter leaking their flight information, or the insane crowd of fans that were waiting for them when they got to the airport. 
But you had handled the whole thing like a champ. You followed your Mommy’s instructions and kept your face tucked tightly to her tan neck, the crowd muffled by the Avengers earmuffs your mommy had painted for you, Roary clutched tightly against your body. 
It wasn’t until the three of you made it to security that things changed. 
“Alright baby, I’m gonna put you down because we’ve gotta go through the funny machines,” Christen said softly as the security line moved forward. She made sure to only move the earmuff just enough to talk to you. You didn’t do well with loud noises and getting you through security would be a task that didn’t need any extra complications. 
“Hold your hand,” You mumbled into her neck. They had ingrained in your three-year-old brain that you always had to hold a hand when going through a crowd, not that you were much of a wanderer anyway. No one wanted to take the chance of an overzealous fan getting a hold of you (and you were pretty adverse to touch that wasn’t your mama’s). 
She smiled indulgently down at you, trying to smooth out some of your crazy bed head around your earmuffs. “That’s right. You’re going to hold my hand until Mama gets through and then you’re going to walk to her,” 
She waited for you to nod before setting you in your feet and grabbing the hand that wasn’t holding onto Roary for dear life. 
“Me and Roary do it!” You nodded, puffing out your chest. 
Tobin and Christen shared a look as they both prepped the little bins that had to go through the scanner. It was a fight they were expecting, especially with so many unknown faces around. 
Sighing Tobin squatted in front of you, “No baby, remember Roary has to go through the little tunnel.” 
You frowned, pulling the stuffed Dino tighter to you. You didn’t want him to go through the tunnel. He told you it was scary and lonely in there, and you weren’t going to send him through if it was scary. 
Tobin smiled sadly at your wide eyes, squeezing your shoulder lightly and beginning to open her bag. There was a reason she carried her unc sweatshirt with her when you traveled, no matter what the weather forecast said. 
It always made you feel safe (a quality that therefore extended to Roary). 
But before she could get it out of her bag, the security guard spoke up from behind her. “Sorry ma’am but the ear protectors have to go through the scanner too,” 
Both her and Christen’s heads whipped around towards the man, sending him twin glares. It was better to approach things one fight at a time with you, and the ear protectors always came off right before Roary went through the scanner and went right back on the second they had been cleared. 
But the damage was already done. Both your hands came up to shove the ear muffs tighter to your head (inadvertently trapping Roary against your cheek). 
“Nooo!!!” You whined loudly. 
“Shh, baby remember we put my sweatshirt around Roary, and then he wears your earmuffs,” Tobin continued as if she didn’t hear the stupid security guard, pulling out the beloved UNC sweatshirt. 
You were convinced the material had magic powers. Anytime you were unsure or scared, you put it on and claimed it was your shield. 
“And you get to wear my sweater while you walk from me to Mama,” Christen added, also squatting down and holding out her cardigan. You loved it because it smelled like her, and it never failed to put you at ease. 
They both wiggled the items encouragingly, waiting for you to reach out and take them. 
You did, very carefully slipping the faded blue sweater over Roary’s head and Christen’s cardigan over your own shoulders. They waited for you to have him settled before Tobin took him from you. 
Christen gently removed your earmuffs and slipped them over Roary’s ears, before taking your hand. 
“Good to go short stack?” Tobin asked. 
You nodded in approval, and Tobin very gently placed your best friend into one of the bins and onto the conveyor belt. You watched with slightly glassy eyes as he slid forward in the belt, one hand still cupping your ear to block out the noise. 
Tobin rubbed your cheek before walking through the metal detector with no problem. 
She turned and squatted, holding her arms out for you.
“Alright kiddo, walk to Mama,” Christen said, nudging you forward. 
You took a hesitant step towards the metal detector, Christen’s cardigan clenched tightly in your hands, only to be stopped by the security guy stepping in your way. 
“I need all loose articles in a bin please,” He said gruffly. 
Christen sent him another glare as your bottom lip trembled dangerously. 
“Alright baby. We’ll just put this in a bin and you can walk to mama,” She said, kneeling down again and starting to lift the soft material from your shoulders. 
“Noooo, I neeed it!” you said, clutching it to you, tucking your nose into the collar. 
Tobin looked expressively at the security guard. “Can she please take it with her through? We can pass it back to go through the scanner afterward. 
“No exceptions,” He grumbled back, shaking his head.
“Right,” Christen bit out. She took your hand and pulled you out of line slightly, turning to the couple who had lined up behind them to use the metal detector. “You can go ahead of us, we just need a second.” 
“He’s a meanie butt head,” you said, looking up at your mommy and burying your chin in the Tarheel-blue fabric. The woman who had stepped up to use the detector snorted, smiling at you for a second before she walked through. 
The guard cleared his throat behind you, raising an eyebrow at Christen. Had she not been in a public place, she would have flipped him off. No one had ever been such a stickler about a stupid sweater before. It wasn't a hoodie, and most TSA people just asked to do a quick check of the material after you safely passed through the metal detector (completely understanding that your 3-year-old self needed a little bit of comfort to get through the scary area). Once their swabs found no drug residue on the fabric you were on your way.
“You know it’s not nice to call people names,” Christen said in her most patient voice, crouching down in front of you. 
You crossed your arms and put on the pout that almost always worked on your mama (mommy was more difficult to get past). “Aunt Kelley says it’s ok if it’s true, and you say it to their face,” 
“You tell it kid” Christen heard someone laugh from behind her and held back a smile. At least not everyone at the airport was upset to be in the vicinity of a toddler tantrum. 
“I know baby, but remember we need to use kind words,”
“Was a kind word. I didn’t call him a --” Christen’s finger pressed into your lips before you could get one of the colorful names Aunt Emmy and Lindsey had accidentally taught you. 
“Yes I know, it was a kinder word than you could have used, but calling him a meanie butt head is still not a nice thing to say,” Christen explained patiently, her voice never wavering from the calm tone they always used. 
“Not nice for him to take away Roary and my sweater,” You grumbled, nosing the material that smelled just like your mommy again. 
“I know, but you’ll get them back very soon once they come out of the tunnel. It’s just a few steps and then mama will wrap you up in her arms, alright?” She reasoned, nodding over to where tobin was trying to keep an eye on the bags while also paying attention to what was happening with the two of you. 
“Promise?” You asked, blinking up at her with wide eyes. 
“With my pinky,” She smiled, holding up her littlest finger. You stared at it for a long moment before connecting your much smaller one with hers. She linked them tightly (but not too tightly) and kissed the back of your hand. 
You hugged the sweater closely again, then slowly held it out to her to put in the bin. Christen took the sweater and quickly stuck it in the first bin then took your hand to walk you back to the metal detector. 
Tobin again knelt on the other side, her arms wide open for you. With one last look at Christen, you toddled through the machine. 
You stumbled into your mama’s arms and she picked you up again, giving you back your headphones as she did so, hoping it would buy her a few seconds before you were looking for your favorite stuffed buddy. He had been held up by the stupid security guy for whatever reason. 
“Where Roary? And the magic sweater?” Well fuck. There went that idea. 
“Roary has to take the trip again to make sure he’s good to go,” Tobin said, “Mama’s magic sweater is keeping him company, just like I am keeping you company right now! Mwah.” 
“Roary No Go through meanie tunnel ‘gain.” You huffed. 
“Roary might be having fun. Maybe the tunnel is like that bumpy roller coaster mommy likes so much?” Tobin suggested. The volume of your whine continued to grow, as you saw the TSA agent take Roary out of a bin over to one of the examination tables. 
“Shh, baby the nice security man is just checking him out for a sec,” Christen said, handing Tobin her bag so she could go over to the table for Roary’s inspection. 
“NOOOOOO!!! He mess Roary all up. Roary not consent, no want to get felt up by meanie butt head.” Your voice screeched over the quiet background of the airport, and heads turned all around the check-in line as people turned to see the source of the noise.  It was official. Emily and Kelley were never allowed to be your babysitters ever again. 
“No baby, see he’s being super gentle look,” Tobin tried, bouncing you a little in her arms to try and get you to calm down. 
Your eyes widened as they followed your Mama’s finger to the TSA guy. He was holding your beloved stuffed dino up by his tail, shaking him as if he expected the appendage to fall off, your Mama’s sweater strewn carelessly on the conveyor belt in front of him. Your bottom lip trembled dangerously and the most heartbroken cry they had ever heard let your lips. 
“They hurting Roary!!!!” you screeched, flailing dangerously in Tobin’s arms. She held you tighter, terrified that you might accidentally hurt yourself by hitting your nose or falling out of her arms.  She ignored the looks she was now getting from the line filtering through the security line, praying to god Christen would have Roary back in her possession soon. 
Tobin sighed, carrying you over to the line of chairs just outside of security, ignoring the pitying smiles people were sending her. 
She very carefully set you down on the chair, barely avoiding your flailing arms as she squatted in front of you. 
“Ok short stack. It’s time to calm down,” She said softly, grabbing your hands to prevent you from accidentally hurting yourself. 
“They hurt Roary!!!” You screeched, dramatically throwing your head back into the chair. 
She sighed, slowly rubbing the backs of your little hands, keeping them still despite your head thrashing. She kept her voice low and steady. “I know you're frustrated and angry that they took your best friend,” 
“Not nice!” You shouted, your little legs kicking angrily. 
“No it isn’t, but you’ve gotta calm down. Roary and you will both be ok, and you’ll get him back after they make sure he’s safe to get on the plane,” Tobin said softly, not taking her eyes off of you, even when she felt Christen approaching from behind. 
It was important for you to understand that they would always be a safe presence, even when you were having a full-blown meltdown. They would hold you through it all. 
It was also important that they verbalized your emotions to help you understand and deal with them. 
You let out several indistinguishable whines, glaring at Tobin as you tried to free your arms and legs (now trapped between the seat and her elbows to prevent you from accidentally kicking her). 
Tobin’s face remained impassive, and her grip firm but gentle. “I know. Being sad and frustrated is ok, but you’ve gotta use your words. You don’t need to fling yourself around,” 
You gave one last shake of your arms, before launching yourself forward into Tobin’s chest. She held you close, and lightly rubbed your back. 
“Need Roary,” you sniffled into her shirt, and both women shared a look. You were calming down. 
“To get him back you just gotta ‘Roary please Mommy,” Christen said, squatting beside you and your Mama. 
She watched as your back tensed up, and you let out a heartbreaking wail, throwing your head back again. “Wan Roary,” 
She nodded, “Ok. You say Roary please,” 
You looked up helplessly at Tobin, who shook her head but gave your back a little rub. 
You gulped, sniffling as you tried to get yourself to calm down. They waited patiently for you to pull yourself out of Tobin’s arms and look up at Christen. 
“Roary please Mommy and cuddles,” You said, your voice slightly shaky but calm nonetheless. 
The stuffed Dino was immediately passed to you, and you buried your face in his soft fur, whimpering out a very quiet sorry. 
“All forgiven baby. Good job calming down,” Your Mama reassured, kissing your hair as she scooped you up and held you tight. 
Tobin wrapped the magic sweater around your shoulders. “There we go kiddo, just relax,” She said, kissing the back of your neck as she tied the sleeves of the famous blue material together around your neck (making sure Roary was also included in the mock cape). 
You snuggled closer to your Mommy, letting her scent soothe the very last of your nerves. 
She kissed your hair softly and rocked you from side to side. 
Yeah, even the most well-behaved 3-year-olds had bad days. 
419 notes · View notes
13uswntimagines · 3 years
Text
Gravity (Alex Morgan x Press!Reader)
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Request: Christen Press x sister reader with a shooter at a game where the reader saves as many people as possible but not themselves? 
10,000 words of angst, fluff and everything in between. 
Pt. 2
Author’s Note: This is a very heavy fic with several trigger warnings. First there are some depictions of violence, and homophobia. We also don’t advocate for doing anything that y/n does in this fic during an active shooter situation.  This is my longest fic to date, and i really wanted to do the topic justice. 
special thanks to @literaryhedgehog​ cause without her it would be a mess. 
You always thought it was bullshit when people said that it started out like any other day. Shouldn’t there be something in the air that told them everything was about to go wrong? Shouldn’t there be some sign that their life was about to change forever? 
But it was a completely normal day. 
The bus was rowdy on the ride over to the stadium, with Megan blaring Taylor Swift through the speakers and the youngins cackling loudly over the latest viral TikTok. There was an excited air about the locker room as you pulled on your Pride month jersey. You were proud that your number showed off a little piece of who you were, and that maybe seeing you wear it could offer some sense of comfort to the people watching you from around the world. 
You joked with your sister about her latest bout of teasing the fans via Instagram and talked through several strategies to get past the Canadian defenders with Tobin (all while avoiding your recent ex-girlfriend). 
It was business as usual as you (were forced) to stand through the anthems, and as you tried to outmaneuver Canada’s annoying 5 back formation.
Everything was absolutely normal until it wasn’t. 
“They’re firing on all cylinders tonight aren’t they?” You groaned, wiping the sweat from your brow, and wrapping a heavy arm over Christen’s shoulder. It was a tough first half filled with heavy tackles and hands where they didn’t belong (you being a prime target because of how often you slipped through the cracks in their backline- the only problem being that you and Alex were entirely unable to connect). 
At least Christine hadn’t slipped past Kelley and Abby yet. 
She stuck her tongue out at you and shooed you off. You laughed loudly, stumbling back just a bit and wrapping an arm around yourself feigning offense. She never did like sweaty hugs, but you always liked to give them to her (after all, it’s what little sisters were for). 
“But we are too, we’ll break through their defenses,” Christen said, rolling her eyes and grabbing your hand instead. Her thumb moved soothingly over the back of your hand. She could feel your frustration at not being able to score yet, but you guys would get them in the end. You all just had to be patient (not one of your strong suits). 
“And if you can link with Alex in the box, we’ll be golden,” Tobin mumbled, scratching the back of her neck. It wasn’t that you weren’t playing well together, but so far the timing between the two of you was just off. 
Things had been weird since you broke up with Alex, and as much as you tried to keep the awkwardness off the field, it was a challenge. It wasn’t like you two were just on separate pages, no the two of you were in completely different books (which was part of the reason the two of you had broken up in the first place). 
Despite what your head said, your heart still ached in your chest every time you saw her. 
You shook your head, breaking the awkward silence Tobin’s comment had created. “I’m not the one who-...” 
Several loud firecracker-like pops sounded in through the stadium cutting you off, and you instinctively turned to search for who the fuck was setting fireworks off. “What the-“ 
You couldn't even get the words out before the wall very close to your head exploded. Concrete showered over you like deadly confetti from a cannon, nicking and scraping your exposed skin as it fell. 
It almost didn’t feel real. This couldn’t be real. There was no way. 
More pops echoed, and this time they sounded less like fireworks and more like the sound effects from those gaudy war films your father was obsessed with. It wasn’t just some idiot playing practical jokes, no this was something much more sinister. 
A breathless “shit,” left your lips, and you heard a “Holy fuck,” from beside you, but you had no idea which teammate said it. 
Terrified voices blended together and insistent hands dragged you down the hallway. You were shoved through a door onto a bench before you could process what was happening. 
Lights were turned off, a lock was clicked. You idly wondered if the deadbolt would actually stop someone who wanted entry. You remembered a Mythbusters where they tested locks against firearms, but you couldn’t seem to recall if they were effective against the one currently protecting you. 
Your eyes flickered around the room, taking in your teammates. Some were pacing, some were huddled in the corners and a few others were glued to their phones, but what really stuck out was how quiet everyone was (a rare occurrence for the team). 
Even with your racing thoughts, you still searched for blue eyes and a pink pre-wrap headband (a small part of you knew you would always look for her). 
Kelley’s hands were running through her hair, forming and reforming a sleek ponytail that she never put up. “What do we do?” 
“We stay here and wait for help,” Ashlyn whispered. She was leaning with her ear against the wall on the side with the door, as though listening for movement on the other side. 
“I’m already on the line with 911, it’s pretty backed up.” Becky pointed to the phone in her hand and Ali raised up her own phone slightly, adding a soft “Me too,” from her place tucked into Ashlyn’s side. The gesture reminded you of the way Alex always saluted towards you with her drink during toasts. 
“Where are the youngins and Alex?” You asked, blinking out of your daze. The room paused, all eyes turning to you like you had just grown 3 heads. 
The silence was deafening. No one wanted to be the one to speak, the one to remind you of the lockdown rules everyone had learned since elementary school. The one to condemn their friends to...
“We can’t worry about them right now,” Christen said, her lips trembling as she met your eyes, “We need to stay here until help arrives.” 
“Nearly half the team is missing guys, we can’t just sit here and do nothing!” You walked to one end of the small room. It took 6 steps. You walked back to where you had started. 5 steps, you turned, again. Alex was somewhere out there. And you were here. What if you never saw her again? You couldn’t raise Charlie by yourself. 
5 steps.  
The last words the two of you had exchanged didn’t end with an I love you. 
“We can’t confront a gunman empty-handed,” Kelley said, her voice breaking. You saw her red-rimmed eyes as you turned again. 5 steps. 
“You have to let the police and security do their jobs,” Tobin whispered.
“Because that has always worked out real well in the past,” You shot back, barely glancing at where she was sitting by Christen’s side. You turned again. 5 steps. 
“I’m through. Hello, my name is Ali Krieger  and I would like to report an active shooting at —— stadium.” 
“I’m not going to leave all of the youngins out there to fend for themselves,” you took 3 steps and grabbed the door handle, bracing yourself as several arms grabbed you and tried to pull you back.  
“Stop!”
“You can’t”
“Walking the halls with them out there isn’t a good idea, Y/n.” 
“Because staying in here like sitting ducks is?” Tobin shrunk slightly, falling back into the group of women now surrounding you. “Don’t let anyone in unless they do the special knock. Got it?” 
“You’re not leaving this room Y/n,” Christen said sternly, her shaking hands not leaving your wrist. She was always more than just your older sister, she was more like your second mom and she couldn’t stand to lose you too. Not after the year the two of you had. 
“Imagine if it was me out there Chris. I can’t abandon them,” You said softly, squeezing her hand. She heard your unspoken “I can’t lose her.” 
You stared into each other's eyes, the rest of your teammates watching you both. Christen had always won the staring games you played as kids. This time something passed between you, and she finally nodded, squeezing your hand once, twice, three times, before letting go. 
“Be safe.” 
“Promise. I’ll see you later.” 
You didn’t believe in goodbyes. There was no reason to say goodbye. Nothing was ending, you were just going down the hall and would be right back. 
“I love you.”
“Love you too,” you shot her a quick smile and eased out the door, closing it with a whisper behind you as you turned to face the hallway and its echoing silence. 
****
The air was heavy as you made your way through the deserted underbelly of the stadium. The stillness that surrounded you was smothering, punctuated only by the tapping of your cleats on the concrete and the loud pops creeping closer. 
Or maybe you were the one inching closer to them. With the number of twists and turns and connecting paths, you honestly couldn’t tell. 
You pressed yourself tighter into the wall, trying to soften your steps. Your cleats had never sounded so loud before. They clicked with every step, like a beacon, broadcasting your location to anyone within hearing distance. 
No matter what you did, you couldn’t seem to quiet them. 
You held your breath as you approached a fork in the path, glancing down both the left and right paths before slipping into one of the many alcoves around the stadium just across the way. Then you tucked yourself into a corner behind the low counter that spanned halfway across its entrance. Down here it would be difficult for anyone who walked past to spot you unless they knew to look. 
You crouched low (still too wired to actually sit down) under the water table and untied your cleats. Your grippy socks would keep you from sliding around all over the place, but honestly, you would take slipping over being heard right now. 
You took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself to leave your hiding spot. 
Going out into the hallway unprotected the first time had been easy. This second time, definitively less so. 
You steeled yourself. You had to find Alex and your teammates. You could be brave for them, for her.
Just as you were about to peek your head above the counter, a screech echoed down the hallway, followed by deep laughter and several loud pops. 
You froze. Heavy footsteps approached your hiding place. Then the counter above you shook as something thumped down onto it.  
And then you heard his voice. 
“Ah, I love it when they scream.” 
You bit your tongue to prevent any noise from leaving you. 
No sane person should be able to say that sentence with such delight. A shiver ran down your spine. Deep breath in, hold, breathe out. You pulled your jersey over your mouth and nose, to muffle the sound of your breathing.
He was so close to you. 
You could hear his foot tapping in time to the song he was humming under his breath as he used the ledge to reload. 
 “All the other kids with their pumped-up kicks. Run baby run, faster than my bullet.”
You closed your eyes, trying to block out the sound of bullets clinking on the counter and bouncing on the floor. Blocking out the little click they made as they were loaded into the magazines. The sound of incorrect lyrics being sung out of tune above your head. It would almost be funny, if. If. 
Deep breath in, hold, breathe out. 
You didn’t want to think about where the bullets might end up. 
“Gotta give them time to hide first, makes it more fun,” He mumbled to himself in between verses, his weapon making a loud clack. “Might as well make sure it works.”
Your ears rang as the hallway echoed with his shots.  Between the echo and the sound of your heart pounding, you almost missed the giggle that followed.
Giggle. Not a laugh. A giggle. A soft little giggle, like the ringing of bells. And somehow the most terrifying sound you’d ever heard. 
“Come out, come out wherever you are. Ready or not, here I come,” He said, eerily. Like a child playing a game. 
But this wasn’t a game. Not one you could lose. 
You needed to find Alex and the others.
You were never particularly religious. You sent out a prayer to whoever was listening that he hadn’t found them already. 
Deep breath in, hold, breathe out. 
You waited for his heavy footfalls to fade, then you peeked out from behind the wall. There was no good path to take.  It was a bad idea to follow him in case he doubled back and a bad idea to go the opposite way and risk seeing the carnage you were sure he left behind. 
You didn’t know if you could handle seeing your teammates like that. 
But a loud yelp (and more cackling) came from the direction he went. You couldn’t just leave whoever he was chasing, it was against everything in your nature. 
You hopped over the counter, ignoring the way the shrapnel dug into your sock-covered feet and began to slowly follow the sounds you knew would haunt you for the rest of your life. 
With every step, you grew closer to the gunman. 
*****
You pressed yourself to the wall just outside of the visitor’s locker room, listening hard to the voices inside. This was a very stupid plan, did you even have a plan? God, this was such a bad idea. 
The clang of metal on metal was unmistakable, as were the whimpers that followed each heavy footfall. 
He giggled, the sound of his footsteps moving back and forth behind the wall.  “Don’t worry little nonstarters, I’m going to take such good care of you. Wouldn’t want to disappoint our audience, now would we?” 
“W-what do you mean,” 
That was Sophia's voice. 
“I have a show planned, one that will really get my point across.”
“A show?”
And Morgan too. Fuck. 
“So much good, pure-hearted talent is being wasted in favor of letting abominations play. It’s a shame really,” 
Fuck. You squeezed your eyes shut, knowing that you would regret this decision later. But he had the babies of the team. They were at the very beginning of their soccer careers.  You would be damned if you let some asshole take that away from them. 
 You already regretted this decision, but you were also absolutely unable to stop yourself. 
“Hey fucktard, the only abomination I see is the loser shooting innocent people.” 
There was a loud squeak of a Combat boot as if he had spun on his heel to look for the unseen threat. 
“Ooo, you two have a friend, how cute,” his voice dropped down on the last word, and you tensed listening. “I think innocent is a relative term, don’t you? Something meant for children?”
“I don’t see you sparring any kids either, so are you a hypocrite or just a coward?” You scoffed, edging back from the corner. The side hallway had enough twists that once you started running, you should be able to get away before he saw which direction you went. It shouldn’t take much more pushing for him to change targets. 
He paused, and his voice turned almost proud. “I’ll give it to you, you’ve got some balls. Why don’t you face me? Or are you the coward?” 
You gulped. It shouldn’t take much more pushing. “ I actually have two brain cells and don’t need a gun to work out my issues. Maybe that just makes you a dumbass.”
His deep chuckle and heavy steps got a little louder.
“No, I’m the judge, jury, and executioner,” 
****
You raced through the hallway, taking random lefts and rights with no real direction in mind. 
It was stupid to antagonize him, but at least he wasn’t terrorizing the babies of the team anymore. The vets never would have let you live it down if you sat there and listened while he-. 
Nope, not continuing that thought. It was too horrible to think. 
You knew he was following you, the first couple of turns had been very sketchy. Corners exploded just after you passed them, and shrapnel had followed you like a fucking heat-seeking missal for the first 3 turns. But then he made a wrong right. 
But you still weren’t slowing. 
Left, right, left, righ-. 
“Whoa!” You gasped and stumbled sideways as hands grabbed your jersey and tugged. 
“Are you crazy?” Emily hissed, pulling you into a supply closet as Lindsey pulled the door closed behind the three of you as quietly as she could. 
You blinked owlishly at the women, sucking in deep breaths as you leaned heavily against the wall. Maybe a small part of you didn’t expect to make it out of that hallway alive. 
It took you a second to actually see them and to realize that someone was missing. 
“Alex isn’t with you?” 
“No, Mr. rifle came down the middle hallway, we went right and she went left. Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Emily grabbed your arm and restrained you as you started to get up. 
“I know what you’re thinking” Lindsey whispered, “but leaving this room is a suicide mission-” 
“Didn’t you get the lesson about lockdown drills in school?” Emily’s whisper rose in pitch as she spoke. “You’re supposed to stay put and Hunker down!” 
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m leaving her alone out there with a Homicidal maniac,” You said, pinching your arm to keep yourself from crying.
“Y/n-“
“No,” You said way too loudly, ripping your arm away from Emily before you realized your mistake. The three of you paused and waited, staring at the door. When it didn’t move, you looked back towards the woman. 
“I have to make sure she’s safe. I promised I would never abandon her when she told me she was pregnant. I’m not going to go back on that now,” 
“This is different,” Emily said sternly. 
You shook your head “I will not leave the mother of my child out there,”
“So what? You’re going to leave Charlie with no parent at all?” Lindsey scoffed trying to get through to you. 
“You can’t change my mind, Linds. When I leave, lock the door and put some of those,” You pointed towards some random benches leaned up against the supply closet wall, “against it.” A layer of benches might not stop him, but they would be a real pain in the ass if he tried to open the door. 
You waited for them to nod, and then you took a step towards the door. You could do this, you would find her and everything would be fine. 
With one last “see you later” you headed out into the hallway. 
****
The hallway still felt too quiet as you wound your way towards where Emily and Lindsey had last seen Alex. At least this time you had an idea of where you were going. 
There were only two rooms off that hallway. You would check the shower room first and then go to the conference room. If Alex wasn’t in either place then maybe she took the connecting hallway to the stadium. Was it any more safe out there? You didn’t know what to hope for. 
You winced at the squeak the door to the shower room made as you slowly opened it. When it was cracked just enough to squeeze through, you slipped in and tried to let it whisper shut behind you. Then you turned to round the corner into the main room. 
You barely dodged the ball bag.  
“Damn, I know we’re on a break, but I didn’t think you actually wanted to kill me” You laughed rubbing your head lightly where the corner of the bag grazed you. 
Her makeshift weapon clattered to the floor and she nearly knocked you over with the force she threw herself against you. You wrapped your arms around her and began to slowly rub her back. “Shh, I’ve got ya. I’m here Alex.”
She shook against your chest, each sob wracking through her entire body. You held her tightly and kissed her ear. 
“I don’t want this to be how it ends between us,” She whispered, burying her face in your collarbone.
You sighed, closing your eyes tightly “I know.” She smelled like sweat and grass, probably because of that goal she had nearly made in the 25th minute. But underneath you still smelled the subtle spice of her favorite perfume. You held her closer, just breathing in the feeling of her. 
This wasn’t really your ideal ending either. You wanted to live a long life, to watch Charlie grow up and accomplish things. You wanted to kiss Alex in front of the whole world after you won the Olympics. 
“Let’s get out of the hallway, alright?” You asked quietly, pulling her through the shower room and into a small supply closet in the back of it, where extra towels and toiletries were usually kept. You only pulled away long enough to click the lock, frowning when you didn’t see anything you could use as a barricade. 
The two of you sat pressed together to the left of the door. 
“You’re bleeding.” 
You blinked down at the woman, following her eyes to look at your feet. Your socks had been bright white when you started this journey, but now they were a strange reddish-brown color and had a few little holes. 
You weren’t sure if it was your blood. In the hall there were, there was, evidence of other people who had gotten hurt. You didn’t know where most of them had gone. How hadn’t you noticed you cut your feet? 
“Must have stepped on something. I’ll be alright though,” you shrugged, giving her a squeeze. 
The silence enveloped you again, heavy but comfortable all the same. It didn’t matter if you were technically broken up, she was your person and you were hers. 
She shook her head and used the edge of her sleeve to wipe something off your temple. She showed you the red smear, before dabbing at the area again. 
It was nice. Very twisted, but domestic. 
“Charlie misses you. I miss you. I can’t sleep without you anymore,” She said suddenly. You stiffened. 
You had flown out just hours after the fight, not even going back to your shared apartment before you hopped on the plane back to North Carolina. You were just so hurt, so mad that you couldn’t bring yourself to face her again. The start of camp had been the first time you saw either of them in nearly a month. 
“You had a fine time sleeping when you took her to England without me,” you said, lightly. Maybe a bit bitterly, but that was unintentional. This was not the best time to have that fight again.
“We both agreed that it was the best move for my Career. Tottenham could offer me minutes Orlando couldn’t,” She huffed. 
You rolled your eyes. That had been the crux of the issue (minus one very important detail). It was fine for Alex to do whatever was necessary to make it to the Olympics, but the same didn’t go for you. It was unfair that you were held to two different standards (and that she just assumed Charlie would always stay with her). 
“Just like Arsenal can offer me minutes North Carolina won’t,” you said, in the same “it’s only reasonable” tone as Alex. That voice didn’t even work on Charlie.  
She crossed her arms and scooted away from you. You needed to be face to face for this conversation. “I didn’t tell you not to go to Arsenal. ”
“You turned down my marriage proposal because you didn’t want to deal with the distance,” you shot-back, voice entirely void of emotions. 
Her saying no stung worse than anything you had ever experienced. It played on your insecurities and made you question everything you thought you knew about your relationship. 
“We’re not in the right place in our careers to get married,” she whispered, reaching forward as if to stroke your face before quickly pulling her hand back. 
“But we were totally ready to have a kid?” You scoffed. 
Some may call you old school, but you found comfort in the conventional get married then have kids bit. Instead, you had done it all out of order. 
“That’s different and you know it,” Alex said, her voice hard. 
The only difference was that if the two of you got married, she would finally have to admit that she wasn’t 100% straight to the fans. There would be no hiding anymore. 
You sighed, shaking your head and pinching your eyes. You didn’t want to have this fight in a closet while you were being hunted by a fucking shooter. “Now is not the time for this conversation.”
“And when is Y/n?” Her voice was near pleading. You had avoided her and this talk out of fear, when were you finally going to be brave enough to confront those feelings. The hurt of her saying no, and the frustration with the perceived hypocrisy of her argument. 
You opened your mouth to respond, when a loud pop sounded just behind the door, followed by a childish giggle. “It’s impolite to lock your friends out, now isn’t it?” 
There was another bang, and the door exploded, sending splinters flying in all directions. It swung open and the shooter stepped through, a Cheshire Cat grin painted across his face. 
“Peek a boo, I see you!” 
****
You held your hands up in a pacifying motion as the gunman shooed you and Alex out of the closet and into the larger room. He was shorter than you thought he’d be and ironically wearing a Jersey that was nearly identical to your own, save for the large Iceman written across his shoulders. 
His hair was dark, slicked-back in a style meant to look suave, but reminded you of those guys obsessed with their tiny black combs in the musical Grease. The only indication that he wasn’t a normal person (besides the large gun in his hand) was his wild eyes. 
“So you’re the one trying to ruin my fun,” he said, with a smile at you that didn’t reach his eyes. 
The top of his gun nudged your shoulder as he gestured for you and Alex to both sit against the wall. 
You wanted to reply with a snippy remark about him being the one shooting innocent people for no reason but thought better of it. Pissing him off could lead to Alex getting hurt and you wanted to avoid that if you could. 
His annoying smirk widened at your non-response, but that wasn’t enough for him. He poked your cheek with the barrel of the rifle, tracing a very small scar on your chin (one the famed Kelley O’Hara had given you in college). 
“Not so cocky now are you? Was it worth it?” He sneered, poking your cheek once with the barrel before stepping back and leveling it towards you.  
You frowned. “Was what worth it?” 
“Parading your filth around for everyone to see. Advocating for rights that people like you don’t deserve.” His voice darkened, going from a sing-song voice that was clearly meant to imitate you, to practically spitting at you as he spoke. 
Your eyes widened with the realization and an idea. A dangerous idea. One that you knew Alex wouldn’t like, but it would give one of you a shot of making it out of this room. You couldn’t not take the chance. 
“If this is about LGBTQ rights, then let her go,” you said, pointing at Alex, and subtly scooting away from her so there was space between where you were sitting. 
He paused his pacing, turning back towards you and leaning down so your faces were merely inches apart. “And why would I do that?” 
“Alex isn’t gay. She’s got a baby of her own. If that is what this is about, then you’ve got me and I’m one of your biggest transgressors.” You shrugged, trying to make it seem like you weren’t as invested as you clearly were. 
“Y/n,” Alex started, her voice rising in pitch as she realized what you were saying. 
You glared at Alex, effectively shutting her down, and continued as though you hadn’t heard her. “Hurting her would hurt that baby, and I thought you said they were the innocent ones here,” you said, voice nonchalant. 
The man’s fists clenched and unclenched around his weapon, and he stood upright. He squinted at you as if he was trying to figure out if you were lying. It was the first time in all of this that he looked unsure. 
You did everything in your power to keep a straight face and maintain eye contact. You only had one shot to get this right. 
The man finally tore his eyes from yours to look thoughtfully at Alex. “You have a kid?” 
You sent her a pleading look. If you couldn’t save yourself, at least you could save her. Her eyes pleaded with you not to do this. 
She finally broke eye contact with you and looked at the man. “Yes, a little girl.” Her voice was barely a whisper. 
Your little girl. 
He looked away and began to pace, his free hand tugging angrily at his hair. You tilted your head to the side, watching him carefully. You hadn’t expected this response, you didn’t think a homicidal sociopath was capable of such a response. 
“Did you have to grow it in a test tube and have it implanted?” He spat, his fingers tapping his gun more insistently and the other in his hair tugging the roots more aggressively. 
You so desperately wanted to yell that Charlie wasn’t an it. That she was a beautiful and radiant child. 
“No,” Alex rapidly shook her head, tears streaming down her face. The two of you hadn’t needed IVF to have Charlie. She was another surprise from the post World Cup celebrations, but you couldn’t imagine your life without her anymore. 
“If you let me get out my phone I can pull up pictures on Instagram,” you said, quickly. “There are pictures of her and her husband with the baby there.” Your private Instagram was covered with pictures of Alex and Charlie, you were sure there was at least one with a member of the male coaching staff.
The gunman suddenly straightened, his composure slipping back into place like a mask. He turned on his heel, a gleeful smile back on his face as he gestured at Alex with the barrel of the gun. 
“You’ve got 15 seconds to make it down the hallway before I start shooting.” 
Alex turned towards you, desperately grabbing your hand. This wasn’t the way the two of you were supposed to end. You weren’t supposed to give up yourself in some twisted sense of heroism. Charlie wasn’t supposed to grow up without you. 
One squeeze. Your eyes traced her face, trying to imprint her features into her brain. 
“14.”
Two squeezes. You tried to make your face neutral, to show her that it was alright. 
“13.”
Three squeezes. It felt heavier than it ever had, more charged with words you couldn’t speak. It was a silent I love you and Charlie. 
“12.”
You gave her a final nod, and let go. She paused for barely a second, before taking off out of the room at full tilt, disappearing out of your sight. 
“5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Times up,” He laughed, firing 4 shots into the wall. “Should have made it 10.” 
You both stared at the door for an unnaturally long time, and you found it odd that he looked nearly as wistful as you were. 
Despite being in a worse situation yourself, you couldn’t help how the knot in your chest loosened now that Alex was safe. 
He finally turned back to you, his smirk sending shivers down your spine. 
“Now as for you, ” he said, tilting his head from side to side like he was trying to crack his neck, “you shouldn’t be so smart with me.”
“Can’t help it.” You shrugged. Your sister was the sibling that inherited all the grace, while you got the bullheadedness. 
“You don’t talk back to your superiors.”
Slap. 
Your head snapped to the side with your force, and you couldn’t help the bubbling laugh that left your lips. “We’re all humans at our base, right? What makes you better than me?”
Slap.
“I’m not an atrocity to our society,” he yelled inches from your face, so close that you could feel the moisture from his breath hit your cheek. 
You used your arm to wipe your mouth, not even flinching at the red streak now staining your white kit top. 
“In the Bible, it says all sins are equal, doesn’t it? So mass murder is just as bad in your book as me loving a woman,” you said, glaring up at him from under your eyelashes. “It also says that he who holds no sin may cast the first stone. Murder is a sin isn’t it?” 
You knew the words that condemned you by heart after having people who didn’t understand use them as ammunition for most of your career. Your family was understanding and supportive, but other people weren’t. Of course, just another piece of their argument that didn’t make sense was that if you and your love were an abomination, then how did you create something as beautiful as Charlie? 
 “Never compare yourself to your betters.” The gun was suddenly out of your face, replaced by the man’s sneer. “I was gonna let you die here, but I have a better plan now.” 
You looked away. You didn’t want the last thing you ever saw to be his face. He grabbed your chin tightly, forcing you to make eye contact. “I’m going to make an example out of you.” 
Bang! 
You couldn’t help the cry that left your lips, or how you instinctively grabbed your side. He chucked, batting your hands out of the way and pressing his fingers into the oozing hole. 
You cried out at the burn. He pushed harder for another second, smiling vindictively at you, before bringing his fingers up for you to see. 
If you had a clearer head and weren’t breathing like you had just run a marathon you would have commented that his blood was just as red as yours.
You spat in his face. 
If you were going to die, you might as well get your money’s worth. 
He growled, grabbing your arm (so tightly you were sure to have bruises) and hauled you to your feet. 
You wobbled dangerously. The pain in your side got more intense. He laughed, shoving you into the wall and pressing himself against your back. He wrapped an arm around your neck and used the other to keep a handgun under your chin. 
You could feel his heavy breathing in your ear. 
“Let’s go. We have an audience waiting on us.” 
He tugged you off the wall and marched you towards the door.
*****
It looked like a scene from a movie. One of those bad action movies where the hero overcomes soul-crushing odds and outwits the bad guy and a hundred armed minions with only a sword and some well-timed dynamite explosions in the background to walk away from. 
Hell, it could have been a movie set surrounding Alex and Christen. They were surrounded by cameras, and EMTs checking them all for injuries. There were police cars and fire trucks and other emergency vehicles surrounding the stadium, with a helicopter hovering overhead like a buzzard.  
She knew to expect the worst. She left you alone with the gunman. She expected the police to finally make entry through the tunnel, and to have to identify you later after you were transported to the coroner's office. She (and the police it seemed) hadn’t expected the gunman to come out and confront them head-on, using you as a human shield. 
He was much less intimidating now that she was standing behind a row of men in riot gear. 
He was short and thin (scrawny she would venture to say). He looked more like a nerd than a stone-cold killer. The only intimidating part about him was how he held a handgun just under your very pale chin. 
Scratches and cuts littered your face, but your most dominant feature was the large red stain just over your stomach on your white jersey. You leaned heavily against him, so much so that he had a hard time shuffling the two of you to stand before the army of police officers. 
“One move and she dies!” He screamed, nudging your chin with the barrel of his gun. It was alarming how your head just bobbed listlessly like you couldn’t lift it on your own. Christen’s nails bit sharply into Alex’s arm.  
One of the FBI agents (Morgan, Alex thought, agent Morgan) slowly put his gun away and stepped around the vehicle. 
Alex winced when the gunman pressed the barrel harder into your skin, daring the agent to take another step. 
The agent held up his hands in a pacifying motion, the headlights glinting amber off his dark skin. “It doesn’t have to be this way Tyler, it doesn’t have to end like this.” 
“It’s the only way this ends!! How else will they see?” The gunman, Tyler apparently (it felt weird to know his name. It strangely made him more human), spat back. 
“See what?” 
“They’re corrupting society, poisoning a generation,” Tyler yelled, his voice edging on pleading. 
Agent Morgan tilted his head to the side, taking another step forward. How was he so calm? Alex felt like her heart was going beat out of her chest “This isn’t the way to show them,”  Agent Morgan said, his voice almost pleasant, like a mother explaining a set bedtime to her child. Like you always negotiated with Charlie. 
The gunman’s reaction was instant, moving the gun from your chin to the top of your right shoulder and pulling the trigger. 
Alex clenched her eyes shut at your cry of pain. 
“I said not to come closer. One step and I shoot somewhere it’ll really matter. Don’t think I won’t!” Tyler yelled, his voice tilting up at the end like he thought this whole thing was one big joke. 
The agent nodded, “You’re in control here Tyler. You’re in charge. Don’t let them turn you into the bad guy.” 
“Like they won’t already,” the gunman growled, tightening the arm on your neck when you slipped further down his chest. You brought both hands up to tug uselessly at the appendage. 
“If you let her go, they can’t twist it,” Another, much younger agent, said. 
The gunman cackled mechanically “And let her roam free? She has to pay for her sins.” 
He nudged your cheek with the gun again. 
“Are you going to make her pay for everyone else’s too? Is that what you think is fair? She’s just like you. She has a daughter just like you,” Agent Morgan said. 
The air on the field shifted, the glee bleeding from the gunman's face, along with all the color (leaving him pale, but not as pale as you were). 
“You didn’t tell me it was your kid,” he whispered into your ear, barely loud enough for Alex to hear. 
Her and Christen shared a look. This wasn’t going to end well. 
“Don’t leave another child without a parent Tyler,” Agent Morgan said, soft but stern. 
The gunman’s eyes snapped back to the agent, his lips curling. 
Alex felt the pit in her stomach grow, any hope of this ending peacefully slipping away. It was stupid to try and reason with a homicidal psychopath, no matter how well trained the BAU team were. 
“Only if she repents,”
He shook you, laughing loudly at your obvious anguish. Your eyes rolled unseeing around the crowd, and Alex could tell how out of it you were. 
“I..- Ah. I'm sorry,” You wheezed. 
The man giggled, using the gun to brush a strand of hair out of your face. “For?” He asked as if he were coaching a small child through an apology. 
You made a gurgling sound, sucking in shallow breaths when he put pressure on the hole in your chest. 
Your eyes found Alex’s in the crowd, and she knew that you were talking directly to her. She was the only person you had an apology for. 
“I’m s-s-sorry I left,” you said, your voice breaking on the words.
The gunman growled loudly. “Wrong answer.”
Bang
*****
Being dead (half-dead? Stuck in limbo?) was a really weird experience. One second you were standing, facing a hoard of blurry police officers and Swat teams, your side screaming, and a reedy voice making muffled demands in your ear. Then in the next, you were waking up in this very strange place. 
It kind of reminded you of the waiting rooms at doctor’s offices, except there was no counter for the receptionist and it was entirely white. You felt oddly comfortable in the waiting room chair, warm and content to just sit (something very strange considering you normally couldn’t sit still). 
Your eyes traced the walls, covered by photo frames that held no photos and canvases that were the same bright white as the wall. 
You lingered in the large bay windows covered by tightly shut blinds. 
You couldn’t seem to keep your eyes off of them. 
They would flutter every once in a while and you could just barely make out murmurs on the other side. 
You weren’t sure how long you stared at them before you finally decided to investigate (time was very hard to keep track of here). 
It only took you 4 steps to cross the room. You stood in front of the windows, a small part of you felt like you weren’t supposed to mess with them, but the larger part couldn’t seem to curb your curiosity. 
You leaned in close to the blinds, trying to understand the voices on the other side. They were frustratingly muffled, but something in you desperately needed to hear what they were saying. 
You pulled back, glaring at the indistinguishable noises. 
They fluttered again, and you very slowly bright your hand up, preparing to thumb them open. 
Butterflies erupted in your stomach, and your cheeks felt hot as you touched the blinds, but you had no idea why. 
Just as you leaned down to look, the door beside you swung open. You jumped back from the window as though they had burned you, and were met with a laugh you never thought you’d hear again.
“Mom?”
Her smile was blinding as she opened her arms for a hug. You launched yourself at her, burying your face in her neck and taking in her scent. It washed over you and soothed the little piece of your soul she had taken with her when she passed away. 
For the longest time, you slept with one of her shirts, trying to be closer to her, to ease the ache in your chest. It was strange because though that little void was filled, a larger piece seemed to be missing now. It left you longing for something you couldn’t describe in words. 
“Hey baby,” She said softly, her fingers carding through your hair as she wrapped you up tightly in her arms. 
“I missed you, so much.” 
Your voice was muffled by her soft skin and wet from unushered tears. Her fingers scratched your scalp a little bit harder. 
“I know baby,” she said, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head. 
You pulled back suddenly, nearly vibrating with excitement. “We won the World Cup for you,” 
She laughed again. “We were all cheering so loud.”
 You smiled wildly. You and Christen had done it for her, and you could have sworn the woman was the reason both of you scored in the final. 
“We do have to have a conversation about some of your reckless behavior though,” She said soberly. You frowned. It took you a second to realize what she was talking about. To remember racing through hallways and giving yourself up to protect the people you loved. 
“I couldn’t just leave them.” 
She shook her head and smiled indulgently at you. “Your heart's too big for your own good.” 
“Chris and dad always said that I have your heart,” you smirked. 
“And your father’s bravery. A very dangerous combination. Sometimes you should look before you leap baby,”  she said, brushing a strand of hair from your eyes, before cupping your cheek. 
Your face grew warmer and you knew you were blushing up to your ears. “True,” you admitted, looking away from her. But only for a second, and then you looked back at her again, drinking in her image. 
She laughed, rubbing your face lovingly with her thumb. 
The blinds behind her rattled loudly, drawing both of your attention. You untangled yourself from her, and took a step towards it, frowning when you heard the distinct call of your name, but you couldn’t pick out who was calling. 
You again brought your hand up and felt the same pounding in your heart and heat in your cheeks. It intensified as you got closer. You paused. What was behind the blind? 
You turned suddenly towards your mom, who was watching you, an emotion you couldn’t place stretched across her features. 
“Where are we?” 
She smiled sadly at you, holding out a hand for you to take. “Why don’t we take a walk,” 
You nodded and took her outstretched hand, sighing at the way her thumb rubbed your skin. It was so comforting. 
She opened the door opposite of the one she used to enter the room and pulled you out into the bustling hallway. 
****
You froze, recognizing the noise and machines of a hospital hallway. 
You hadn’t been in a hospital since…
 You held your mother’s hand tighter as she gently pulled you along, out into the waiting room. A waiting room that reminded you too much of the last time you were here, all the worry and grief on everyone’s face. Your sister tucked tightly into Tobin’s side, biting the edge of one of her nails, while the other hand tapped on the edge of the chair’s handle. 
You stared at the waiting room packed to the brim with soccer stars. Your eyes lingered for another moment on your sister before they drifted to Alex. Even with red eyes and puffy cheeks, she was absolutely gorgeous. 
She blew out a deep breath, scrubbing her hands down her face and shifting restlessly in her chair. 
“Y/n is strong, she’ll pull through,” Tobin mumbled. 
“Yeah Al, she’s too stubborn to leave you and Charlie here,” Christen nodded, almost like she was trying to convince herself. She couldn’t lose you and her mom in the same year. 
“She flatlined,” Alex’s voice came out soft through her hands. “Again.” 
You took a step towards the woman, squatting down in front of her and trying to grab her hand. “Shh, don’t cry. I'm right here.” 
Her sobs didn’t stop. She didn’t even look up to acknowledge that you were there. 
“They can’t hear you, baby,” Your mom said softly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. 
“There was just so much blood,” Her shoulders shook with the force of her heart, and her hands scrubbed at each other, almost like she was trying to get something off of them.
You tried to grab her hands again, to stop her nails from digging into the soft skin of her arms. The only response she had was the quaking shiver that seemed to rock through her. 
You dropped your hands, turning to your mother. 
“Am I dead?” You asked, your voice wet with tears. 
Your mother shook her head solemnly. “Not yet.” 
“At least they got that son of a bitch,” Tobin said in a low, gravelly voice, glancing at the TV in the corner running the story. 
You turned to look with her. The TV was showing a high shot of the stadium, showing several detectives surrounding a black bag in the middle of the field. Your eyes were drawn to the large 24 at the bottom of the screen and you gulped. 
The shot shifted to one of you being loaded into an ambulance, Alex running alongside the stretcher. 
“I still don’t understand why he had to go on a murder spree because his girlfriend left him for a woman,” Christen said, drawing your attention away from the screen. 
“It’s called small penis syndrome,” Tobin mumbled, her fist clenching on her knee. It was fucking discussing that he thought going on a rampage was the answer to his problem. “I’m sure he’ll learn all about it in hell.” 
“What do you mean not yet?” Your voice shook a little as you finally stood to face your mother. 
Was this what being dead was like? Was it just watching the people you cared about live their lives without having the ability to tell them that you were there? 
“It’s not your time yet,” Your mom said simply like it was the most obvious answer in the world. 
“Then why am I here?” You huffed, running a hand through your hair and yanking at the roots. 
Gentle hands grabbed your wrists and untangled your fingers from the strands. She rubbed her thumbs on the back of your hands. You blinked up to look her in the eyes. 
“You have to be ready to wake up first,” She said, brushing a tear from just under your eye, and letting her warm touch linger on your cheek. 
You didn’t know what that meant, but then again you had just realized that you weren’t actually standing in the room with your family. Where were you really? 
The door to the side of the room clattered open, and all of your thoughts stalled at the entrance of the new, very tiny, presence in the room. 
Charlie raced through the door (Alex’s mom following very closely behind) and practically launched herself at Alex. 
“Mommy!” Charlie yelled. 
Alex hugged her tightly to her chest, pulling her up into her lap. She took a deep breath against your daughter's hair, seemingly trying to ground herself (Charlie didn’t need to know the seriousness of the situation and Alex needed to be calm to keep her calm). She would be forever grateful that the little one had been taking a nap when it was time to leave for the stadium, forcing her grandmother to stay back at the hotel with her. 
“Hey baby,” she murmured, taking comfort in holding a little piece of you close to her. 
Charlie let the hug go on for a minute, before she pulled back, and looked around. 
“Where Mama?” She asked, her little eyebrow quirking up nearly identical to the way yours did 
“Let’s go see her, yeah?” Alex gave your daughter a smile, trying to hide the pain underneath it. 
Charlie nodded excitedly, as Alex stood with her in her arms, and began to make her way down the twisting halls. You hesitantly trailed after them, afraid of where they might be heading. 
“Ok baby, remember mama’s sleeping ok,” Alex said as she pushed one of the many doors open, and stepped through. 
Your breathing hitched when you saw exactly what was in the room. 
It was you in a hospital bed. There were at least 15 wires connecting you to various machines, and several screens showing what you assumed were your vital signs. There were wires along your cheeks and chin, and thick bandages just visible below the comforter. 
Alex settled into a chair by your side, holding Charlie in her lap and grabbing your hand. Christen took up your other side, Tobin holding her from behind to offer her whatever comfort she could. 
*****
You were frozen, torn between the desire to run to your little family's side and by the paralyzing reality that you were hurt in a hospital bed. A warm hand rubbed the top of your back, squeezing lightly. 
But this time it did little to soothe you. It spurred you on. 
You gulped, and finally took a step inside the room. The hand slipped off your shoulder, and you turned to look at your mother. 
She stood just outside the doorway, smiling sadly at you. “This is as far as I go, baby.” 
“But don’t you want to meet your granddaughter?” You asked, your head tilting to the side. Charlie was your proudest accomplishment and you so badly longed for your mother to know her. 
“How do you know I haven’t already?” She smirked. 
“She said she saw you,” You said thoughtfully, thinking about every time she said that your mom was right next to you. 
“She’s very bright for her age,” Your mom nodded, laughing a little. 
You smiled too. Charlie was too smart for her own good sometimes. She was just at the stage where she was repeating everything you said and asking why constantly. You knew she was going to be a handful when she got older. 
“How did you do it?” 
“There’s no instruction book to raise children, honey. Between you and Alex I think you’re doing pretty alright,” Your mother shrugged, brushing a fallen strand of hair from your eyes. 
“There isn’t a me and Alex anymore I don’t think,” You mumbled, looking away. 
You weren’t proud of how you handled the fight. How you had just left. They didn’t deserve that. 
Gentle fingers under your chin forced you to look your mother in the eyes. “Hmm, you don't face a gunman for someone you don’t care about,” your mother said with a wry smile. 
“What if she doesn’t forgive me?”
“I think she’s more worried about you forgiving her, but you’ve already done that,” She said with a quirk of her eyebrow. 
You did forgive Alex, but you had just been too stubborn to admit it. Too annoyed by her response to tell her that you weren’t trying to run off to Europe without her. “I should have told her Arsenal wanted to sign her too,” you admitted. 
Your mom smirked again. “Just like she should have told you that Mark was looking into getting you to Orlando.” 
You squeezed your eyes shut, groaning out a “We’re idiots,” and facepalming. 
“No, just young and stubborn,” she laughed, her thumb rubbing your cheek. ”I have faith the two of you will figure it out.” 
The two of you stood in silence for a few minutes, listening to the beeping of the machines connected to you and how Alex was trying to explain to Charlie that you were sleeping. You so desperately wanted to go over to the two of them. To reassure them in some way (you weren’t quite sure how this whole thing worked). 
Sensing your growing restlessness, your mother patted your shoulder gently again and gave you a little nudge forward. “Go honey.” 
“I don’t want to leave you,” you whispered, eyes tracing the lines of her face. 
Your mother shook her head. “That little girl needs you more than I do sweetie.”
“I love you,” You said, pulling her into a final hug, trying to ingrain exactly how it felt into your memory. 
She held you tightly, before pulling away and nudging you towards the room again. “I love you too, now go. I’ll be watching.”
“Promise?” 
She kissed your forehead. “Always,” 
You nodded and turned back towards your little family. You could do this. 
One step, two steps. You paused. 
“Wait, is this real, or is it just all happening inside my head?” 
Your mom laughed, catching the reference to the series the two of you had read together so many years ago. “Well of course it’s in your head, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t real.” Then she winked at you and you closed your eyes. 
****
Your mouth felt like cotton. Like that moment at the dentist when they need your mouth to stay dry and they stuff cotton balls between your gums and cheeks. You felt the top of your mouth with your tongue. You weren’t sure water had ever sounded so delicious. 
You thought about trying to sit up to get some but then realized something felt different. There was a strange weight on your nose and arm. 
Ow! You had tensed your arm muscles, intending to lift it up, but your arm hurt. Actually, now that you were thinking about it, everything hurt. Your arms and legs were sore like they usually were after a particularly grueling game, but there was also a different, dull pain radiating out from your shoulder and mid-abdomen. It was there, but also not there, like an annoying horsefly buzzing around your head. Easy to ignore for the moment, but you had a feeling you would really notice the sting later. 
There was a sharp poke to your cheek by what felt like a tiny finger, and a little whine “Mama, wake up! It’s daytime.” 
There was another hard nudge to your cheek, just before a larger hand very carefully removed the appendage. 
It reminded you of all the mornings Alex had used your daughter to force you out of bed. How she would set the little one on your chest and give her free reign to get you to open your eyes. 
Those mornings always ended with giggles and tickle attacks. 
But you just felt so heavy, like your eyelids were covered by weights. 
“Remember baby, gentle hands. Mama’s got lots of boo boos,” Alex whispered, her voice slightly muffled by what you assumed was Charlie’s ear. 
“Careful wit mama,” Charlie murmured and you could picture her nodding with a pout. 
The fingers were back, this time much more gentle than before, rubbing little circles in your cheeks. 
“That’s right,” Alex said softly, a larger finger running a gentle finger down your nose. Charlie’s tiny finger followed, pausing for a second too long at the tip. 
Your nose wiggled involuntarily, earning a loud giggle from Charlie. 
It was your favorite sound on the planet (though Alex’s was a very close second). 
“Mama, we know you wake,” She laughed, poking your cheek. 
“What are you talking about baby?” 
“Look!” 
A little finger gently ran down your nose and again paused at the tip. You couldn’t help the way your nose scrunched. 
Two gasps sounded, one on either side of you (you assumed one was Alex and the other was your sister). 
The air around you suddenly felt crowded, and the light behind your eyelids dimmed, as though someone was standing over you. A hand slipped into yours and a palm was pressed into your cheek.  
“Y/n, honey, can you hear me?” Alex asked. 
The pause that followed was deafening while they waited for you to respond, to give them some tiny sign that you were present. You channeled all your strength and energy to gently close your fingers around the warm hand, ignoring the twinge you felt in your wrist as you did so. 
“Oh my gosh, she squeezed my hand,” Alex let out a wet laugh. The hand on your cheek ran down your shoulder to grab your other hand. 
“Hey y/n, can you do that again for us?” Christen’s voice was soft but stern. The same tone she used when you weren’t cooperating when you were little. 
The one she always used to coax you into brushing your teeth or coming off the pitch when you were fixating after a bad game. 
Wiggling your fingers the second time was so much easier than the first, like a little bit of the weight holding you down was shed with every successful movement. 
You felt lips touch your forehead. “Good job kid,” Christen breathed into your skin.
“Eyes open Mama. It’s time to wake up!” Charlie cheered. She bounced wildly on the bed beside you, for a second. 
“Whoa kiddo, remember we need to be careful with mama?” Tobin said, and suddenly Charlie’s weight was gone from the bed. 
You frowned. You didn’t want them to take her away. You needed to tell them to let her stay. 
You scrunched your face and forced your very heavy eyes open. 
You squinted at the bright light, groaning softly. Alex’s face was suddenly in your view, blue eyes glassy with unushered tears, her hands very carefully holding your cheeks. 
“Hey, baby,” She said softly, her tears dripping from her face into your cheeks. You leaned into her touch, enjoying the warm butterflies it sent to your stomach. 
But something was missing. Charlie. 
You frowned again, attempting to push yourself up, your eyes darting around the room trying to get a glimpse of your daughter. 
“Try not to move,” Christen scolded, one hand on your uninjured shoulder to keep you in place. 
“Shh, relax baby. We’re not going anywhere,” Alex added, noticing just how frantic you seemed. 
“I’ll get the doctor,” Tobin mumbled from behind Christen, taking a step towards the door. 
All you could register was that she was carrying your daughter out of the room, away from you. 
“No!” The horse cry left your lips, and the room froze. 
Christen and Alex shared a look you couldn’t read. They both turned to the midfielder paused in the doorway, holding the squirming toddler. 
“Tobin,” Alex said, holding her arms out for her daughter. Tobin complied, passing her Charlie. 
The forward resumed her place on the edge of the bed, as Christen reminded the three-year-old to be gentle with you. Charlie nodded seriously at her and then turned to you. 
“Mama,” She smiled widely (a smile you tried to return despite a slight grimace- your pain meds were starting to wear off). You pursed your lips for a kiss. 
Charlie giggled and gave you a peck on the cheek. (Very carefully as Alex helped her so she didn’t end up pressing on your chest). 
“Mommy get kiss too?” She asked, looking sideways a Alex. 
You sent the toddler a cheeky smile (or as close to one as you could muster), tilting your chin up at the woman in question. 
Alex rolled her eyes goodnaturedly and leaned down, placing a very quick and gentle kiss on your lips. 
It was like the world tilted on its axis, and reality shifted. A little piece of yourself that had been missing finally clicked back into place. 
It was cheesy and romantic, but you didn’t care. They were your tether to the world. The thing keeping you grounded and the thing that brought you back. 
They were your gravity. 
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13uswntimagines · 3 years
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The Knight and Her Princess (Mal x Reader)
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Request: Mal x Reader. Someone continues to flirt with R so jealous Mal is showing and everyone teases her about it and R is so oblivious to the person flirting with R?
Author’s Note: @literaryhedgehog and I took some liberties with this one. We set it in a midevil time, and had a lot of fun working together. I hope you enjoy the first little step into helping me unblock my writers block. 
“Remind me again why I can’t kill them?” Mal huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at Dansby, her adoptive brother. He was standing too close to you, looking at you with the same expression he did to many a maiden who ended up in his bed chambers. 
“Because it would be treason to kill the crown prince?” Lindsey shrugged, smirking just a bit at the princesses’ predicament. “Also fratricide is generally frowned upon in modern society.”
Mal rolled her eyes. “Are you going to bring up the Romans again? 100 years ago some men walked around and stabbed each other in the back and wore no clothes, very barbaric, I get it.”
“Closer to 500 years ago, dear,” Lindsey corrected, sipping her wine. “And I think you might be deflecting a bit.”
“I am not. Y/n is free to whisper with whomever she pleases. As long as she saves a dance for me,” Mal grumbled, her eye nearly twitched when Dansby leaned in to say something directly in your ear. 
“Whatever you say, but I think you should just talk to her,” Lindsey smiled and bobbed a curtsy. Mal watched her as she crossed the room, the hem of her ball gown floating over the floor as she made her way over to some of the other ladies in your household. You saw Emily look up and move to stand with her, their heads bent towards one another to be heard over the orchestra. 
Perhaps Lindsey was right. It wouldn’t hurt to join the conversation between you and the prince…
******
“Excellent jousting today, really,” Dansby said, twirling a ring absentmindedly around a finger as he smiled at you. “You really know how to handle a stick.”
“My father and brothers taught me how to joust when I was young. It’s always been one of my favorite activities,” You shrugged, taking a sip of your cider. It was tart, but you were grateful it was even being served. At a formal event like this one there weren’t enough children around for drinks with such low alcohol contents to be necessary. But you liked feeling in control. Not being allowed your weapons made you nervous, adding strong wine or ale to the mix would just make your jumpiness that much worse.
Dansby chuckled, but you felt more like he was laughing at you than with you. “You’re a funny one, maybe I should take you from the princesses’ detail and add you to mine. Might help lighten the mood at some of our negotiations,” 
“You have Julie, and she’s the best of any of us,” you said, proud of your friend. Julie was one of the most impressive female guards you had ever trained with. Even Captain Vladko had to work to hold his own against her. And her kicking the ass of anyone who went against her in the melee tournament today was truly a joy to watch. “Plus I like protecting Mal.”
“What about Mal?” The princess in question asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and effectively inserting herself into the conversation. 
You took another sip of your drink, hopefully hiding the heat in your cheeks at the touch. Ladies were affectionate with each other all the time, you reminded yourself, no one would think Mal meant anything by it. 
“Your guard is very loyal,” Dansby said, turning to his younger sister with a bemused smile. “No matter the positions or other favors I suggested, she is determined to remain part of your retinue.” 
Mal smiled thinly at him. “Yes I’m sure those positions of yours sounded very enticing. However, if I were you I would find some lady to dance with in the next few seconds, because I think mother is making her way over with an eligible countess. Best look busy.”
“It appears you’re right,” Dansby peered over your shoulder and adjusted his sleeve. “If you ladies will please excuse me. And Mal, don’t have too much fun without me,” He said, sending the princess a knowing wink before heading towards the dance floor. She wouldn’t intervene in one of his conquests for just anybody. He would consider the message received, loud and clear. You were off limits. 
Mal unfolded a fan, and waved it gently in front of her face. “So, what were you talking about?”
You shrugged, trying not to stare at the curl of hair that was dancing around her cheek as the fan sent air its way. “The tournament mainly. He was impressed with my score at the joust.” Your hand twitched at the place on your belt where your sword would normally hang. “I wish I scored lower. Then I could be working this ball instead of attending it.” 
Mal pulled you closer to her, so she could rest her chin on your shoulder and speak directly in your ear. “But you wouldn’t get to dance with me,” 
“Now that would be a travesty,” You hummed. 
Mal just smirked at your tone. “Wouldn’t it?”
“May I have this dance m’lady?” You bowed low and held out a hand in front of you. Mal tucked her fan into her pocket and took it, letting you lead her onto the dance floor. 
The music swelled around you and and the lights dimmed as the orchestra began the ‘romantic’ portion of its set. It felt like you were in a fairytale, as you pulled the princess to your chest and began to sway. The people around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you to twirl in peace for a moment. To just be with each other in the way you so deeply craved. 
Mal sighed, leaning closer to you so you could hear her speak softly over the music. “I hate that we can’t tell anyone we’re attached sometimes. I understand why you would get moved to a different position, it being a potential conflict of interest and all, but watching men flirt with you kills me every time.”
“I know darling. It kills me too, especially when your mother starts talking about suitors,” You said, trying to keep the bitter note out of your voice, but Mal heard it anyway. 
“I had a talk with her and my father. She promised she wouldn’t do that anymore,” Mal shrugged. “Well to me anyway. She still wants my brother to work on an heir and a spare. Father can’t wait until you join our family line, and he can hold your jousting skills over everyone.”
“That’s wonderful,” you said, twirling her around and back to face you. “Though I don’t feel much like royalty material sometimes.”
“Well Dansby obviously thought you were, the way he was flirting with you just now,” Mal said lightly, not letting the annoyance show in her voice. 
You tripped over your next step. “Wait, is that what he was doing? I thought he was just trying to get training tips for the next tournament.” 
Mal laughed. Oh you would give anything to make her laugh like this every day. “Clearly he’s not as perceptive as father.”  
You raised your eyebrows at her. 
“Neither of my parents were surprised.” She said simply. 
“Apparently I’m not very perceptive either,”you said smiling. 
The song ended and everyone applauded as the orchestral members stood and bowed. 
As they sat down to begin the next song Mal grabbed your hand and pulled you from the dance floor out into the gardens. It was a quiet night, and as you strolled beside the hedges the murmur of the ballroom behind you joined the background noise of the crickets and falling water. 
“You know, the court would lose their heads if they caught us out here. Can’t you hear them now? A knight and a princess, alone at night. How utterly scandalous,” You said in mock horror, entirely expecting Mal to giggle with you. 
But she didn’t. She paused, pulling you to a stop. “Let them talk,” She said, flipping open her fan and drawing it across her cheek. 
“But aren’t you concerned for your virtue and all that?” 
“I am never afraid of anything when I’m with you, Mal said, looking up at you, the stars reflecting in her eyes, “you’re my knight.”  
Your gaze flickered between her eyes and her lips as you slowly closed the distance between you, giving her the chance to pull away if she wanted. She met you halfway instead, softly connecting her lips with yours. 
The fan moved behind you, shielding the two of you from view of the ballroom. This moment was yours alone. If anyone were to look out into the garden they would be hard pressed to imagine the passion between a lady knight and her princess. 
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13uswntimagines · 3 years
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Keep Calm (Alyssa x Reader)
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“Sweet soft Alyssa with Protective and tattooed center back girlfriend (center back is a defender who is in the middle so literally protects the center back of the field)
Author’s Note: Special Thanks to @literaryhedgehog. Technically this is a part of the firefly shorts series, but i helped so... 
You would very much like to point out that part of the reason the USWNT was so good, was because Alex Morgan was a Bitch to stop on the field. Her and Press had a knack for spreading you and Becky out and then making you pay for being out of position. This time however, things had gone a step too far. 
Your inability to stop the star forward had forced Alyssa off her line to stop the incoming attack. It had directly led to the sickening collision- Alex too stubborn to pull the shot back and your girlfriend unwilling to let her score. 
“Get OFF of her!” You yanked Alex off Alyssa, stroking the keeper’s cheeks between your hands. She blinked slowly, looking dazed then amused at your concern, but you didn’t see any sign of a concussion. Then Alyssa, against your protests, sat up, using your arm to pull herself to a standing position. 
You took a step back, letting the medics come in to steady your girlfriend who wobbled slightly, before wheeling around and getting very close to one Alex Morgan. 
“What the fuck were you thinking? You could have hurt her, over what? Some stupid goal in a scrimmage,” You growled, grabbing a fist full of her shirt, the celtic knot pattern on your bicep rippling as your muscles tensed. 
“Y/n, calm down,” Kelley said in a measured voice somewhere behind you. 
“Back off, this is none of your business,” You bared your teeth, glancing over your shoulder. 
“I’m dating Alex AND I am your teammate so yes, it is my business. Calm the fuck down,” Kelley said her voice still calm but with an edge to it. 
“She hurt Lyss,“ You shook Alex’s shirt again. 
“I’m fine babe,” Alyssa called from behind you. You didn’t let go of Alex. However, the muscles in your shoulders relaxed at the sound. 
You gave Alex one last shake before you finally released her, “Don’t do it again.”
“Your girlfriend literally has a foot on you. I think she can take care of herself,” Emily muttered to your left. You shot her a glare as Alyssa walked over and put an arm around you, casually pulling you away from another confrontation. 
“Easy slugger, you’re a better lover than a fighter,” she said softly, her thumb stroking over the treble clef tattoo on your collarbone. 
“Maybe so, but you’re worth fighting for.”
“I should think so. I’m a keeper.”
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13uswntimagines · 3 years
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Let Me Care For You (Christen x Reader)
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Request: christen x reader fic where the reader get sick and can barely get out of bed so Chris waits on them hand and foot and gives them all the cuddles.
Special Thanks to my favorite writing buddy @literaryhedgehog
“Y/N, it’s Chris,” A soft voice called from the front room. 
You picked your head up from its perch on the porcelain, your eyebrows furrowing at the bathroom door with a groan. You didn’t think your fever was high enough for you to be hallucinating. 
“If you don’t respond I’m going to assume you’re dying and call an ambulance. Where are you anyway?” Christen’s voice grew louder and softer again, you assumed as she moved through your apartment looking for you. Then your phone started ringing, and you stared down at her face lighting up the caller ID as her footsteps moved closer to the door. 
You flicked the screen, answering the call. 
“Told you I wasn’t coming to practice,” you mumbled into the phone, resting your cheek beside it on the bathtub. Your head felt like it weighed a million pounds, but at least the nausea had subsided some. The cold tile felt amazing.
“Yeah, I know, I got your text. Are you in here?” you heard a tapping on the door to the bathroom. “Are you decent? Can I come in?”
“I’m here, I’m ok,” you said half into the phone and half towards the door. You weren’t quite sure why she was here (momentarily forgetting that you swapped apartment keys on your year and a half anniversary).
“That wasn’t an answer to my last question, so I’m coming in anyway.” You heard a click and the door opened. In the back of your mind you were both surprised she had unlocked it, but even more surprised you had remembered to lock the door in the first place. 
You blinked up at your lovely girlfriend, never lifting your burning cheeks off of the cool tub.”I have pants on,” 
“I can see that.” Christed touched her--wonderfully cold -- hands to your cheeks and forehead. She seemed haloed by the ceiling light. Or maybe your eyes were still partially closed. You made an effort to open them more. Much less blurry without the eyelashes in the way. Then you frowned at her. “What are doing here?”
“You said you were sick. I’m not exactly going to leave you alone, what if you needed help or something? Now come on, let’s get you off the floor.”
“But it’s so nice and cool,” You slurred as she slipped an arm around you and started to haul you to your feet. The two of you stumbled through the ensuite door and towards your unmade bed. 
“I’ve got a nice damp washcloth here that will help with that. And once you can keep down some sprite I brought a box of ice pops. Cherry, orange or grape!”
“No pops. My throat hurts,” You huffed, letting prop you up on the pillows. She turned away from you, heading to get the washcloth and a change of clothes for you (as she was pretty sure you were still wearing your PJ’s from yesterday). 
“Maybe it hurts because it has had more exposure to stomach acid than it normally likes, and will feel better once it’s had real food touch it? I could also make you some tea with honey?” She said, pulling out all the materials she needed for you. 
“The one with the little bear in a red hat on it?” You asked, cracking an eye open. 
“If that’s what container you keep honey in, then yes,” Chris said, tentatively. “The honey I brought with me is in a beehive shaped jar.”
“No, the tea with the bear on the box,” You shook your head, quickly realizing that was a terrible idea when the room spun again and your nausea returned. 
Chris gently helped you lay back into the pillows and laid a nice cool washcloth over your forehead, then put a straw to your mouth. Your stomach calmed down slightly after a quick swig of the bubbly beverage. “I’ll go make the tea. I’m putting your phone right here okay,” she set the phone inches away from your hand, “call me if you need help.”
You hummed, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. You weren’t very good at letting other people take care of you, or sitting still. So it kinda sucked that you were being forced to do both. 
“Alright babe, let’s try and get some tea in you and then some meds. Have you taken anything yet?” Christen asked, setting a mug on your bedside table and gently moving the washcloth so she could feel your forehead. 
You squinted. “Took Tylenol after practice yesterday, and then I couldn’t find the bottle,” 
It disappeared somewhere between your afternoon nap and nighttime date with the toilet. 
“Ok, let’s slowly sip some tea and then we’ll try for some pain killers alright? Maybe in a few hours if you feel a bit better we can try some food? I brought soup and waffles.” 
She slid into bed beside you, sitting you up and letting you lean against her as she passed you the warm cup of tea. You took a slow sip, sighing when the warm liquid didn’t irritate your already sore throat. 
“That’s it babe, small sips,” Chris gently took the cup back from you and set it on the side table, covering the top with a small plate to trap the steam. “In five minutes if you still feel good we can have another one.”
You hummed in agreement, leaning back into your girlfriend. She slipped her hand under the front of your shirt to rub soft, soothing circles on your stomach. You leaned deeper into her shoulder, reaching up to play with a strand of her hair, curling it around and around your fingers. 
“Just try to relax babe,” She said softly, kissing your temple. “You can sleep if you want. I’ll still be here when you wake up,” 
“Aren’t you worried about getting sick too?” you murmured, closing your eyes. The sound of her breathing was already lulling you into a state of calm. It sounded like the ocean.
“No, but if I do it’s ok, because I got to take care of you.” 
You were always taking care of her. Leaving her notes, making her dinner and dropping everything the second she needed you. It was nice to get to help you for once. 
341 notes · View notes
13uswntimagines · 3 years
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Eat My Bubbles (Emily x Reader)
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Request: Emily sonnett imagine where the reader can tell that Emily is just really stressed out and R plans a day for of surprise for Emily?
Author’s Note: Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog. 
Wake up calls weren’t usually a good thing, especially on one of the few days a week where Emily was allowed to sleep in. “But there were worse ways to wake up,” she thought drowsily as lips pressed into her collarbone and trailed up her neck before landing on her cheek, nose, forehead and finally her lips. 
“Wake up sleepy head.” 
Your voice called down somewhere above her eyelids. 
“Noooo,” The only proper response to a request like that (Waking up before noon on a Saturday- practically sacrilegious) was throwing one’s pillow. It was practically a law. Of course having a girlfriend who was one of the best keepers in the world meant that the pillow would hit neither the floor nor her girlfriend’s actual face, so Emily didn’t feel especially bad about it. 
“Oh come on. It’s 10:30. I made you breakfast,” you called in a sing song voice near Emily’s ear, gently placing the pillow back on the bed next to her. 
“Pancakes?” She asked, cracking an eye open. 
“With the chocolate chips, just like you like,” you said. “But you can only eat them once you get dressed. I’ve got plannns for us today.”
“But I’m stressed and I need pancakes now. And cuddles.” 
“You’ll get pancakes and cuddles and a whole lot more, but you’ve gotta wake that ass up first,” you nudged her a little more insistently with your nose. 
“Fine,” she whined, finally opening her eyes to look at you. You smiled softly at the woman, smoothing back her hair and placing a very sweet kiss on her lips before racing off to put the finishing touches on breakfast. 
Emily shook her head and laughed. Everyone called her the child, but you were the one who acted like a hyper 5 year old when you were excited. 
“We’re going to the zoo?” Emily bolted up in her seat, staring at the sign. She hadn’t thought about going to the zoo in ages. It was the sort of place that only seemed to exist in memories of elementary school field trips. 
“You seemed stressed and we both love animals, so I thought this would be fun,” You smiled shyly at your girlfriend, backing your car into an open spot. 
“Are you kidding? This is going to be the best! Do you think they have penguins? Can we go to the gift shop afterwards? The gift shop always had the coolest stuff when I was a kid,”
“I’m pretty sure there are some penguins, and I heard they have a new baby giraffe so we can totally check that out too. What’s the point of coming it the zoo if we don’t hit up the gift shop at the end,” You smiled brightly. 
Emily stared at you for a minute, eyes looking into yours and brushing over your wide smile and cheeks before she grabbed you by the collar and pulled you forward into a kiss. 
Your hands immediately found the back of her neck, tangling in her baby hairs. Emily wasn’t always good at putting her feelings into words, but you thought you knew what she was saying as you kissed once, twice, and then she pulled back and pecked you on the nose before opening the car door. “I heard there’s a train between the different ‘continents’ of the zoo animals! Can we go catch it first and start at the end of the zoo?”
“Whatever you want darling,” You nodded, also exiting the car, still a little dazed from your kiss. 
“Come on then!” She grabbed your hand and pulled you forward, holding a fist in the air as she shouted “ONWARD!”
….
You were in love. Disgustingly, uncompromisingly in love with the goofiest defender on the planet. The second you entered the zoo, she had been off racing you from exhibit to exhibit, nearly vibrating with excitement as she read each of the little plaques. 
And when you went to the giraffe exhibit you let Emily ride piggy back so she could feed the giraffe one of the branches the docents had available. The docent snapped a picture of the two of you as well- Emily staring up in awe at the giant blue tongue wrapped around the leaves and you smiling at her.
God you were in love. 
It also hadn’t taken much for Emily to convince you to buy her a hippo shaped stuffed animal. Or to let her get her face painted into a Swallowtail butterfly. Though you resisted getting your own cheek painted to match. Instead you agreed to get it painted like a bearded dragon. The paint had lasted an impressively long time, you thought looking down at Emily, as she sprawled over your lap.
 You had gotten home from the zoo about 20 minutes ago and it was still there on her cheek. A bit smeared from hugging Gloria (her new hippo friend) perhaps, but still a beautiful yellow and blue butterfly wing grazed her cheekbone. 
You gently brought your finger down to run over the smudge, brushing a stand of hair behind her ear- you would suggest a group bath later. You know, to get all the paint off… 
“Did I ever tell you how incredibly gorgeous you are?” 
“Eh, I have a short term memory. You’ll have to tell me again,” she said sweetly. 
You laughed lightly, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. “I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, even when your stressed or covered in turf, or have a giant butterfly covering the wonder that is your cheeks,” you watched as the cheek uncovered by paint blushed a bright pink. “Speaking of short term memory,” you said, shifting things around on the couch as you prepared to stand up, “I was thinking we could watch Finding Nemo tonight-”
“-Only if we put on our matching footie Pajamas,” Emily interrupted seriously before you finished. 
“After we put on our matching footie pajamas,” you conceded, smothering a smile. “But only if we take a bath first.”
“I think you’ve got yourself a deal,” Emily put her hand out for you to shake (which you did with a giggle), before launching herself off of the couch. 
“I’m gonna beat you- can’t fight evolution and I was built for speed!” 
“Hey no fair, you got a head start,” you yelled, bolting after her. 
“Eat my bubbles, bitch!
254 notes · View notes
13uswntimagines · 3 years
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Never-Ending Adventure (Christen x reader)
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Request: R is allergic to animals and she really wants a pet. So the team get her a pet rock from amazon. But let’s be real Ashlyn loses it (ash and ali are her team mom) and everyone is trying to find it while Christen takes her on a date to keep her busy while they look for it
Author’s note: Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog​
“What do you mean you lost Fred?” Christen hissed up the stairs at Ashlyn and Pino, from where they had gotten her attention. All three women glanced back to the kitchen, where you were putting groceries away, but since you hadn’t reacted they returned back to the matter at hand. 
“It was an accident. He just disappeared,” Ashlyn mumbled miserably, her hand scrubbing down her face. One second your beloved pet had been tucked safely inside her suitcase and the next he was gone. 
“He’s a rock. It’s not like he can walk off on his own,” Christen ground out, gritting her teeth. It didn’t matter if Fred couldn’t love you back, you were attached to the googly-eyed rock and his painted face. 
“I would like to remind you, I advocated for her getting her a pet fish in the first place. You can’t be allergic to fish dandruff, and fish are harder to lose track of than a piece of stone.” Tobin added, coming up behind Ashlyn. You were deadly allergic to animals but insisted you wanted a pet. The team had compromised and gotten you a pet rock off of Amazon as a joke. 
“But that’s not the point,” Pino said quickly before Christen could respond. “We know you just got back from getting groceries but we need you to take Y/N on a date until we can find Fred.”
“You want me to distract her so you two can figure out how to replace Mr. Flinstone before she notices?” Christen asked, quirking her eyebrow up. The two of you were in a weird place between friend and girlfriend, but neither of you had made a move yet per se. Doing it to save the team's ass seemed like a stretch. 
“Why do you think we asked her to come downstairs and put groceries away when it is clearly Sonnett’s turn? We’re stalling for time!”
“Here,” Tierna said, stuffing a book into Christen’s hands, “One of the coaches’ kids was selling these coupon books for a fundraiser. You can use the different activities in there as inspiration for where to go.”
“And whatever the coupons don’t pay for we’ll pay you back. Promise,” Tobin said quickly. 
“You and y/n need to get your stuff together and become a couple anyway…” Pino added with a wave of her hand. Christen sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. 
“Fine. But only because I know Y/N would be really stressed out if she found out Fred was gone.” 
“Thank you thank you thank you! Okay, you go in and we’ll get started.” And with that Christen was shoved back into the kitchen.
****
You were having an amazing time. Your lunch date with Christen had turned into a walk in the park, a coffee, and now a casual stroll through the aquarium. You had always been interested in marine life, and you were having a blast nerding out. (Christen also thought your fun facts about each of the animals was adorable- well the way your face lit up when you rambled was). 
“So are we heading to another random location, or is it safe to go back to the house yet?” You asked with a smirk, stepping through the shark tunnel towards the reef fish exhibit. 
Christen froze, where she was looking at the lionfish tank. “Is… this your way of saying you don’t know any facts about lionfish?” she said, evasively. Fuck. She thought she was being more subtle than that. 
“Well, lionfish inject their venom through the spines in their back. When the skin over the spike gets pushed down, it pushes in the venom sack. Fun fact, the spine is like a hypodermic needle,” You said, pointing out the spikes you were talking about and staring wistfully into the tank.“But you’ve been checking your phone since the stingrays, and I’m guessing it’s because we’re more than halfway through the aquarium,” You finished, looking pointedly at Christen. 
“Maybe… I was checking to see if we had enough time before the aquarium closed to eat dinner at their seafood restaurant?” 
“So… they’re taking way too long to set up whatever prank they’re planning,” You nodded. 
“Why do you think someone’s setting up a prank?” Christen said, laughing in a super believable way. Wow, she was bad at this. “Hey look, are those clownfish?”
You raised your eyebrow at the woman. Emily, Ashlyn, Pino, and Kelley all in one house just spelled trouble. It was more probable they were setting up some stupid stunt to video for the fans than them just hanging out like normal people and watching a movie. Also, the fact that Christen had been taking you on different adventures for close to five hours now was suspicious. 
“I know you probably just did this because you got roped into whatever stunt they’re planning on pulling on me, but I had a really nice time with you today,” you said, looping your arm through hers, and leaning ahead on her shoulder. Christen straightened up slightly at the touch. “If you were actually serious about that dinner I don’t mind paying.” 
“My suggestion, so I’m paying and I was totally serious. I didn’t just ask you out because of those knuckleheads. I like you too,” Christen said soft, gripping your arm a little tighter, trying to convey just how much she wanted to be here. 
“Okay, if you’re sure. Hey, want to take a selfie together in front of one of the tanks? you know to commemorate our endless adventure?” 
“Yeah, I wanna remember the never-ending date forever,” Christen said, her eyes a little gooey at your cuteness, pointing towards the octopus tank. 
You pulled her close to you, angling the camera so the blue-ringed octopus was in the shot. And just as you clicked the button, you stood up quickly on your tiptoes to kiss her on the cheek. You also took a shot of the laughter that followed. The one of her turning to kiss you was a bit more of a blur though.
***
“Oh, before we go, can you grab one of me with the Red-sea rockfish?” You asked, pointing at the redfish in the tank. 
“Yeah, sure!” Christen took your phone from you and swiped it to get to the camera, almost missing you reaching into your pocket and pulling out a small painted rock. 
“Okay three, two- wait, is that Fred!?!”
You lowered your hand from where you had posed with Fred next to your cheek. “Yeah? I had him in my pocket this morning, so I didn’t lose him while I cleaned my desk, but forgot about it until we were about to go through the metal detectors a few hours ago. Why?”
“I’m pretty sure Ashlyn has the entire team scouring the house to try and find him,” Christen snorted, shaking her head. It was hilarious you were nervous about them pulling a prank on you when it seemed you had pulled an even better one on them. 
“Oh,” you said. Some things were beginning to make sense now. “So you’ve been checking your phone so they could tell you when it was safe to come home? Once they found Fred?’
“Maybe...” Christen said blushing just a little bit. 
“Okay. Well, you’d better call and let them know you found him. After we get ice cream.”
365 notes · View notes
13uswntimagines · 3 years
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Leave the Cooking to Me (Sam x Rose x Reader)
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Request: Sam x rose x reader. Where R was a part time chef so she’s always cooking their meals and the team is jealous of the good food
Author’s Note: Special Thanks to @literaryhedgehog. We had way too much fun doing this one and spent way too much time looking up random food things. Gotta say that we are both a sucker for writing for Sam. 
Sam and Rose were lucky and they would tell that to anyone who would listen to them. You weren’t just the sweetest human being they had ever met, or the most thoughtful. You were all of those things, and you knew how to cook. Not just recreationally either. You were the full fledged winner of Top Chef season 19, and the Sous chef at one of the hottest restaurants in Washington D.C.
“How can you make such good food dressed like that?” Sam asked, leaning over the island and resting her chin on her hand. 
“What do you mean?” You raised your eyebrows at the woman, continuing to run your knife along the onion without looking at it. 
“Don’t all of your skills come from your chefs coat?” Rose asked, sliding up beside you, her hand trailing under the back of your shirt. You shivered at the cold hand touching your skin. 
“I’m not Iron Man. I can function without an outfit,” you said, rolling your eyes, as you grabbed an egg. You happened to like wearing an oversized pajama shirt and short-shorts while cooking. You never felt bad about spilling anything on them, since you didn’t exactly wear them in public. “Sam, since your hands aren’t literal icicles-” Rose stuck her tongue out at you playfully “- can you hold this and warm it up to room temperature while Rose helps me hold the pastry?” 
“Ohhh what kind of pastry? Why is that filling purple?” Rose squealed. You knew how much she loved when you baked for them (especially considering those croissants you made them for special occasions). She pulled the bowl closer to her, and scrunched her nose when she saw the contents. 
You may have had a good track record, but that color was crazy. 
“It’s Spanakopita, but we’re going to experiment just a little bit. If you don’t like it you have to eat it anyway,” You shrugged, rolling out the dough onto a cutting board, and positioning Rose’s hands right where you wanted them. 
“If you make it, we’re going to like it.” Sam snorted, and Rose raised her eyebrow at her. 
You bit you lip, wilting just slightly. “I just got inspired, cause the beats are going to look so good in the risotto for the Arancini,”
“If it’s anything like that curry you made last time you got inspired, I think we’ll be ok,” Sam said, kissing your neck with a grin while you worked. You squeaked a little and jumped, hip-checking her to keep her away from accidentally touching the food. 
“It’s just a shame Valentine’s day already happened,” Rose said, looking at the three bowls of filling in their various places on the counter or in the fridge, “Pink, red, and purple dishes would have made great themed appetizers for your restaurant!” 
You snorted and shook your head. “I wish, we could do anything this interesting.” The arancini, maybe. The other two would probably be avoided like the plague for fear of any garlic or other lingering spices. “People are too bougie to enjoy the simple things like strangely colored foods.” 
“Good thing we’re not!” Sam smiled broadly, stealing a piece of orange-colored pork from the bowl to your right. 
“Yeah, we get all the sass and none of the class,” Rose giggled, barely avoiding your slap at her hand as she also stole a piece of pork. 
Just then you heard singing from the couch. “We are family,” Sam stuffed the piece of pork in her mouth and jumped up to grab her phone from where it was wedged between the cushions. “I’ve got all my sisters and me.”
“Tha’s Kwsten,” She spoke through her mouthful then swallowed. Do you mind if I go take this?” 
“Go for it, we’re about to stick this stuff in the oven anyway,” You nodded, giggling when she tripped over a chair on her way to grab the phone. “Make sure you swallow before you answer,” 
“Took you long enough. What were you doing, trying to find your pants?” Kristie’s voice rang through your apartment the second Sam answered the call. You smiled when your girlfriend’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink. 
“No, Y/n is cooking. She’s so good with her hands Kris, it’s not fair,”  Sam said shaking her head. 
Kristie snorted, wiggling her eyebrows at the woman. “I’m sure she is,” 
“Stop trying to turn everything I say into a euphemism.” Sam groaned, sending a glare at Rose who was cackling like a madwoman. 
“But you make it sooo easy,” Kristie teased, “I mean what was it you said last time, ‘she kneads aggressively?’”
“Bread, Kris. She was making bread. And you’re supposed to do-I mean knead it aggressively, that’s how gluten develops.” 
“Stop trying to explain it babe,” Rose sang, her voice bubbling with suppressed laughter.  
“You’re just making it worse,” You nodded along. 
“You know, I’m not this mean to you when Emily and Lindsey pull this shit with you. I was even sympathetic with the Sketchers thing,” Sam pouted. 
“We agreed to never mention that again,” Rose said menacingly, but Sam was distracted as you handed her a plate with the Spanakopita.
Sam’s pout melted off her face at the sight of the plate. “Ooo goodies. Thanks babe,” 
You kissed her cheek and waved to her sister on the phone before heading back to the kitchen to finish the next set. 
“What is that?” 
“Just course one of the amazing appetizers lunch my wonderful girlfriend is making for me.” Sam bit in and rolled her eyes at the taste, holding up the other half of the Spanakopita so she could see the gorgeous and delicious purple filling. 
“For both of you Sammy. Don’t leave Rosie out, that’s mean,” You called out, your tongue poking between your teeth as you stirred the pot on the stove. 
In the background of Kristie’s call, Sam could see other teammates gathering around the phone to see her food. She stood and walked back to the kitchen, turning the facetime camera around so they could see the two trays out of the oven and then you stirring at the stove. You waved your spoon but stayed focused. The rice was just at the point when it was most likely to burn and you needed to make sure the texture didn’t go from delicious to goopy. Risotto wasn’t for the faint of heart. 
“Look at how fluffy this Bao is!” Sam said, slowly tearing one of the dumplings in half in front of the camera. Sisterly torture went both ways- her sister may turn half of what Sam said into sex jokes, but Sam could rub the delicious food in Kristie’s face. 
“Why is it so orange?” Emily asked, piping in from behind the older Mewis sister. 
“Some awesome Indonesian spices that Y/n thought would be good,” Sam said, taking a huge bite out of the bun. 
“Tamarind and Turmeric in the mix,” you called out from behind her.
“It’s not fair that your girlfriend is a literal chef who enjoys cooking in the weekend,” Emily whined, followed shortly by a “shut up Sonnett” from Lindsey and a thump. 
“Experimenting apparently,” Rose said, mischievously. 
“Not helping dear. Anyway, what were you calling about Kris?” Sam said pointedly. 
“We just wanted to know what you eta for camp was?” Kristie asked. 
“Um, the flight leaves tomorrow at what time was it again Rose? 8 am?”
“Try 4:30 am Sam,” You rolled your eyes. It was going to suck, but you were going to make sure to pack some tasty overnight oats so no one was grumpy on the plane. 
“Ugh. That’s bullshit. Anyway, takeoff at god-awful early in the morning, and then we’ll see you when we land!” Sam said. She hung up the phone and moved back towards the counter. 
“Don’t worry babe, I’ll schedule the flight next time,” You leaned up to kiss her cheek. “Now how bout you help me roll some balls?” 
*****
“I don’t know what we did wrong this time?” Kelley said, poking the overly pale cinnamon rolls that had just come out of the oven. Then she turned the roll over to see a crisp black scorch on the base. “It looks like we took them out just in time though?”
“They’re pale on the top and burnt in the bottom,” Rose whined, tapping the middle of one of the rolls experimentally. 
“Kind of line you Rose,” Sam laughed, patting her shorter girlfriend on the back. 
“Haha, at least they’re not hockey pucks like the last batch,” Rose grumbled. 
How they had let their teammates talk them into this, she didn’t know. What she did know was that cooking with you was way more fun than doing it with this bunch. At least with you everything turned out tasty in the end. And if she accidentally messed something up you always knew how to fix it. 
“Stop that,” Kelley swatted Alex’s hand away from the bowl of icing. “That’s unsanitary. Let us drizzle it on the rolls first and then you can clean the bowl.” 
“But then what are we gonna do with this caramel you insisted I stir?” Emily asked, looking up from the pot in front of her. 
“It’s for the next batch. You put it in the bottom before you bake,” Sam answered, beginning to roll out the next set of cinnamon rolls. 
“And technically, we didn’t insist you do anything Sonnet. We mentioned our idea to make caramel for the cinnamon rolls and you jumped up and said “I volunteer as tribute”” Rose grumbled. “You didn’t even let us suggest a recipe.”
“Which considering the success of the other recipes you picked, might have been a good idea,” Emily said, frowning slightly at the bubbling mixture in front of her. She was stirring but the bubbles weren’t going away like they did with pasta. Maybe because it was thicker? She stirred faster to compensate.  
“Hey guys, what are you-... oh shit,” You raced over to the stove, nearly barreling into Emily as you grabbed the practically overflowing pot of molten sugar and moved it off the heat, praying you had gotten to it before it was too late. You really didn’t want to have to explain to the trainers why you and Emily had third-degree burns if the pot exploded. 
You spun towards the group of older players, glaring at them. “Who let the child do the most dangerous job?” 
“Dangerous?!?” Kelley and Rose sputtered. Sam just blinked at you
You shook your head and pinched the space between your eyes. “If it crystallizes and you don’t take it off the heat it can explode. You don’t stir sugar,”  
“Oh. Well. At least there’s still icing?” Sam grabbed one of the better rolls and gave it a hearty helping of icing before handing it to you.
“What did you use, because Alex is vegan and she’s been eating it?” You narrowed your eyes at the offered plate, glancing sideways at a set of very pale rolls and a set that were very burnt and flat. 
“Flaxseed and applesauce instead of eggs and oat milk instead of milk. And margarine instead of butter.” Kelley said, automatically. She and her fiance had been making vegan substitutes for a while now, and while they might not have been traditional cinnamon roll ingredients, she knew the measurements by heart, so that’s what they had used. 
You bit your lip and squinted your eyes as you reached out and swiped a bit of frosting from on top of the bun and put it into your mouth. 
You gulped when the salty substance hit your tongue, trying and failing to conceal your wince after the flavor. Your girlfriends were a lot of things, but apparently good cooks wasn’t on that list. “Hey, what container was the powdered sugar that you used for this in?”
“Um, this one?” Kelley said, sliding you a container. 
Your eyes widened at the blue-lidded container. You had been experimenting for a new dish at the restaurant and had gotten a hold of some micro powder salt flour for it. You thought it would give the new cracker-jack-themed desert a better taste, and help to balance out all the sugar from the Caramel ice cream. 
“That’s not sugar,” you said weakly. 
Alex dipped her finger into the bowl and tasted it, gagging. “It’s salty!”
Sam frowned down at the plate in her hand. She hadn’t wanted to do this, to begin with, but the team had insisted. Assured her they knew what they were doing and that you would love the surprise. Instead, Emily had almost burnt down your kitchen and everything was a mess. 
“Is none of it alright,” Rose asked softly from behind you, her lip jutting out. 
You scanned the kitchen, looking from the still ominously bubbling ooze on the stove, to the cinnamon rolls so undercooked you could catch salmonella from them to the icing, then finally to a glass on the counter. You grabbed it and took a large swig of vanilla oat milk. 
“Your milk tastes great!” you said enthusiastically, as the others started laughing. 
Sam and Rose just wilted further. You sighed, wrapping your arm around your taller girlfriend and holding your hand out to Rose. “It’s the thought that counts guys. And I love the thought,” 
“That’s what your parents tell you when you give them shitty presents so you don’t feel bad,” Rose grumbled, and Sam nodded. 
You sighed, unable to keep your lips from tipping up in a smile. It was just. It was so bad it was funny. “Maybe next time start with something a little easier? I’d love some scrambled eggs and toast!”
 Sam sighed. “You hate eggs,” 
You laughed again. “But I love you, even if you two can’t cook,” 
You leaned up to kiss under Sam’s chin and over to Rose’s cheek. You loved them and would remind them that their skills were on the field. They should leave the kitchen stuff to you. 
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13uswntimagines · 3 years
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She Might be a Forward, but You’re a Keeper (Emily Sonnett x Reader)
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Request: Emily x reader where r doesn’t have the best reputation and is sorta known for being a troublemaker but once Emily comes into the picture everything changes. Livin’ The Dream by Morgan Wallen is what made this pop into head.
Author’s Note: Firstly, Firerfly and i thank the one voter so much for voting for this fic. Secondly this almost didn’t happen because my dumbass deleted from the doc just seconds after we had finished it. Thank you to @literaryhedgehog​ for saving it. 
“You have to do it Sonnett,” Lindsey said sternly, taking a sip of her drink and ignoring Emily’s puppy eyes. She wasn’t going to feel bad about this. It was only fair, since she was the one who got them caught. 
“Yeah,” Rose added, crossing her arms. “consider it your punishment for not following through on our prank on Pino.” Meghan had been pissed, and the lecture they had gotten did not seem to fit the crime, especially since they had been stopped. All they wanted to do was start an itsy bitsy prank war. Where was the harm in that?
“Oh come on.” Emily whined, glancing back and forth between the two girls and the woman standing on the other side of the room. “She would have murdered me if I let you put blue dye in her shampoo,” Emily said, her bottom lip trembling. 
“And now Y/n might kill you so we’re even,” Lindsey shrugged, fighting a smile. Whatever way this ended, it would be entertaining for her. 
Some might think that that it was a gross overstatement, but it wasn’t. You had a reputation. A terrifying history of explosions on the pitch, and a complete lack of approachability off of it. You didn’t give a shit what anyone thought, Alex and Kelley being the only exception, but you had known them forever so it didn’t count. 
You didn’t have many friends (contrary to what the public though), but you were viciously loyal to the people you actually let get close to you. 
The youngins had been warned that you did whatever (and whoever) you wanted and they should steer clear. You wouldn’t mess with them as long as they didn’t mess with you. 
The problem was that the blond defender was smitten from the first moment she saw you this season. When she had first joined the team you had just been another veteran and the excitement of joining the national team had overshadowed everything else. But then you transferred to Washington during Club season and she started noticing you everywhere.  Partially because you were everywhere- weaving around the field and her vision, at team events and now here at camp, and… she might have been caughts staring once or twice. Maybe Emily had tripped over her own feet a few times because she accidentally got distracted by the sight of you pouring water over your head after a hot practice, who's to say. Either way,  her two meddling best friends knew about her little crush and had decided to use it as blackmail. 
“I hate you guys,”  Emily said, downing half her drink for liquid courage. 
Lindsey rolled her eyes and shoved the defenders shoulder. “No you don’t,” 
“You better get your ass over there before she starts flirting with another girl,” Rose said with a disinterested wave of her hand, motioning towards the dejected Brunette walking away from you. There was a parade of women all night, and it seemed none of them were having any luck. 
Your eyes followed the woman as she left, but your face didn’t betray any emotions, appearing completely uncaring to anyone who happened to glance in your direction. 
Emily nodded. It was now or never she supposed. 
*****
You took an uninterested sip of you beer, swirling your finger around the glass when you set it back down on the bar. You had never exactly found team bar nights fun. It felt like thousands of people would come up and talk to you (and call you by name) and expect you to instantly be their friend. 
You didn’t need anymore friends. 
You took another sip of your flat beer, making a mental note to chastise Alex later for her terrible bar choice, and stared listlessly at the football (American style) game on the tv. 
“Hey, wanna hear a joke about paper?” You turned slowly to look at the speaker. You squinted at the blond defender, tilting your head to the side, not letting your surprise that a youngin actually had the balls to talk to you off the pitch show on your face. 
She scratched the back of her head grinning impishly at you. “Never mind, it’s tearable.”
You raised your eyebrow at the woman, you lips ticking up slightly at her adorable fidgeting. 
That seemed to give her confidence, as she set her drink down and slid into the unaccompanied stool next to you. 
“Why didn’t the vampire attack Taylor Swift? She had bad blood.” 
You suppressed your snort at the terrible joke, hiding it behind a sip of your bad beer. 
“It’s more fun if you actually let me respond before you hit me with the punchline,” You smirked, thoroughly entertained by the pink starting to bloom on the defenders cheeks. 
“Oh, my bad.” Emily said, making an embarrassed face. “Sorry, I often tell dad jokes- most of the time he laughs!’
This time you did snort, the smile you were holding back finally cracking across your lips. 
“Just most of the time? Sounds to me like you need to get a better one,”
“Is that a challenge I hear?” Emily said, a wicked gleam in her eye. A terrible joke competition was right up her alley.
“Not at all. I could never compete with someone with your… particular skill set. You should be a magician because you just make girls disappear,” You wiggled your fingers, mimicking a magical motion. 
“Ouch,” Emily said, holding back giggles. 
“You could let me ice that burn as consolation,” You shrugged, also holding in a giggle. 
“Nah, I just need to wait a little for it to warm back up. You know what the hottest time of day is?”
“No, what?”
“Two- flirty!”
You cackled loudly, nearly throwing your head back. 
****
“Is the Ice Queen actually smiling?” Kelley asked, sliding into the booth beside Alex, passing a disgustingly fruity drink to her girlfriend. 
“It appears so,” Alex nodded, pushing the stupid mini unbrella out of her way to take a sip. 
Her eyes followed your laughing form, taking in how your eyes lit up, and the way you leaned closer to the blond defender. It wasn’t your typically cocky posture when you talked to girls, you seemed much more unguarded. 
“Who knew Junior had it in her. I never thought she’d work up the courage,” Kelley smirked over the edge of her drink. Emily’s crush on you wasn’t a secret (to the two of them at least), but they never dreamed Emily would actually make a move. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Y/n look at anyone like that.” Alex started thoughtfully. “Well maybe-”
“We don’t speak her name Alex,” Kelley interrupted with a glare. They didn’t talk about your previous relationship. It had nearly ruined you completely. 
Rose and Lindsey joined Alex and Kelley where they were standing, all four trying to hide the fact that they were staring at you and Emily together. 
“You enjoying the show too?” Rose said, shaking her head slightly as she watched. What the heck could you two be talking about? For a few seconds she saw you talk animatedly then - in unison with Emily - double over in laughter. 
“You know something about this that we don’t?” Alex asked, glancing at the two younger players. 
Rose and Lindsey exchanged a look. “Sonnett’s only over there because we made her,” Lindey said. 
“How?”
“Told her we’d rat her out to Vlatko for the snack incident last camp,” Rose shrugged. Revenge was best served with blackmail. 
“I didn’t know she had a soft side,” Lindsey said after a few minutes. 
“Only a few people actually get to see it,” Kelley shrugged. You were guarded but not heartless. It just took a special touch to break that cast iron shell. 
****
“Okay, okay. So I know a guy who's great at soccer but is super untidy.”
“You do?” You asked, biting your lip. You weren’t sure why you were suddenly nervous. 
“Yeah, he’s just a Messi guy!” Emily said, already laughing on the last word. 
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “I think these are just getting worse,” 
“Oh come on, you were the one who told the one about a frog liking hoppy beer,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “I think that one was objectively worse.”
“Whatever you say cutie pie,” you said, leaning forward on your hand. You weren’t usually this interested in conversation. You were more of an… in and out kinda girl. But there was something about Emily that intrigued you. That pulled you in and made you want to know more about her than just her bedroom preferences. 
“Pie sounds so good right now,” Emily said sighing deeply. “I don’t even have a joke to go with that, I just like pie. Although I think I read one at some point for Pi day, I could google it…” 
“I don’t know any jokes either, but I do know a place pretty close to here if you wanted to ditch these losers,” You offered, picking idly at your napkin. 
“Losers? I didn’t know the men’s team was here!” Emily smirked. You didn’t know if she was blowing you off, or just completely missed what you were implying. 
“See that one was actually a good one. Those idiots wouldn’t know how to score if they were shooting at the broadside of a barn,” You shook your head. Half of the women’s team midfield had better finishing stats than all the men’s forwards. They were terrible. 
“Oh come on. They’re not that bad. At least 9% of them are keepers,” Emily laughed. “Well that’s their position anyway. But yes, I would love to go get some pie with you. Just don’t tell Dawn I broke my diet.” 
“No promises Princess,” You said standing, and holding out your hand to the woman. You kissed the back of her hand when she laced her fingers with yours, earning yourself another giggle. 
It made your heart flutter, and you just wanted more. 
“You sure you’re okay missing the end of the party?” Emily said hopefully, scanning as if to make sure no one would waylay you on your way out the door. The last thing she wanted was to get stopped by one of your parade of brunettes. 
“Better than okay. The word happiness might start with an H, but mine starts with U.” 
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