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prettyforwoso · 3 months

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Help Us Understand.

Barca x teen reader

Alexia x teen reader

Lionesses x teen reader

word count: 3500

Summary: y/n, a talented 16-year-old footballer, nicknamed "la princesa," battles the harsh realities of adolescence. Burdened by self-harm scars and body image insecurities, she attempts to hide her struggles from the team. The team uncovers her deepening eating disorder, prompting a collective effort to guide her through recovery.

tw: mention of eating disorders and self harm

Being a teenager in this world is hard. Not only are you working with shitty hormones and breakouts on your face, you also have to put up with the nightmare of other teenagers. Most of them are fine, in fact, what seems to be the worst of it, are the people who are no longer teenagers, and think that’s a valid reason to attack those who are younger and more vulnerable than them. Like you.

You are a lioness, 16, debuting at 15, now playing for Barcelona, a along side your England teammates, Lucy and Keira. You are known as “la princesa.” The nickname came around after your first game for Barca, in which, you scored a Hatrick and pulled a neat assist. the fans linking your talent to Alexia, saying how much you play like her. Quick, rough, strong. You have always been that way.

This nickname sparked a close connection between you and Alexia. She took you under her wing the second you got off the plane in Barcelona. She didn’t like the idea of you living alone in a new country, despite your ability to speak perfect Spanish. So, you lived with her “only for the first few weeks” which has turned into months. Alexia acts like she is trying to help you find an apartment, but isn’t, like secretly loves having you around, seeing so much of her younger self in you. She fusses over you, cares for you, feeds you, scolds you, drives you to school, gets emails from your school. She has stepped into your life and has supported you in every way a mother would.

You have a bad history with self-harm. It was Leah Williamson who noticed it first, well maybe just the first person to speak to you about it, but you don’t know that. You were rooming with her for your first England camp. Nervous about the girls seeing your scars, you were always wearing a long sleeve under your training kit, which at times got hard as it was summer.

A few girls would joke to you, “how are you not boiling?” was the consistent one that just made you want to rip the skin off whoever said it. It was some of the older girls who brought it up with each other at a post-match dinner that you managed to get out of. It was Lucy, Leah, Mary, Beth and Lotte who exchanged their concern, how they never seen your arms, how you were always somehow too busy for ice baths, how you shivered when someone would grab your wrists. They all kept a close eye on you, but decided not to come to any conclusions, as in reality, you were known to be the sunshine and smiles of the squad.

But you weren’t, and deep down, they knew that too.

It all came crashing down one afternoon, when Leah found a bloody rag in the bathroom bin, she investigated further and found your blades in the back of your phone case that you had left on your bed.

She called Beth to your room, who then called lucy, they gathered together in your room, talking about the next steps. The three of them sat in an almost silence, saddened by the conformed truth. They made their plan, not wanting to waste any time.

They found you in the games room, laughing with Ella as you and a group of girls played table tennis.

“y/n, sorry I just need to grab you real quick” Leah said, breaking her observant silence. You were pulled into a room, it all happened so fast. Lucy placing you on her lap, wrapping her arms around you and Beth pulling your phone out of her back pocket. Leah speaking, you didn’t hear any of it, your focus being on Beths hands, taking off your phone case and picking up the tiny metal blades. You just cried and cried as they talked to you, you didn’t say a word, not denying anything. You cried into lucy’s arms as they tried to understand you and your reasoning being the scars. It took some gentle tugging and tears of resistance for your top to be pulled over your head, leaving you in just your bra and pants in Lucys lap as Leah ran a gentle finger across the healed and fresh marks along your arms. Beth moved closer to you, taking your face in her hands, clearly holding back tears of her own.

No one was supposed to know. But when they did, it killed you.

The bad thing about talent is the expectation of performance, and when you underperform, you would be attacked online. The hatred and negativity really got you, and ruined a lot of your confidence and the girls knew that. They knew the comments you would get, about your play, your personality, your body.

The comments about your body were some of the worst, and they didn’t get better when you started at Barca, in fact, they got worse. It was almost like it was all you saw. You would make a post about a game and hardly anyone would speak about how well you played or how many goals you scored. All you would see was the comments about how your body has changed, how you look in the kit, your legs, hips, arms, boobs. It got so bad that you stopped posting all together and turned off all your comments. Soon however, they comments came to the Barcelona Instagram page, and the pages of your teammates. You worked harder that ever. Working out was no longer about training your body to perform and be strong, it became about looking different and making changes to your body physically.

You were running lengths each morning and evening as well as staying back at training. You weren’t fat, or thin, nothing abnormal for a teenager with a changing body. You had bigger boobs than you did 3 months ago, wider hips, thicker thighs, yknow, everything normal, but the fans didn’t think so, and that’s what got the best of you.

Alexia noticed your increase in running and working out but at first brushed it off as you wanting to prove yourself to a new team. But it soon became hard to ignore when you were finding excuses to not eat, the snacks she would buy you because she knew you loved them, sat in the kitchen untouched. She tried to pretend she couldn’t hear you coughing up each meal in the bathroom, more for her own comfort.

It became too much to ignore when others noticed.

“Why are you running so much little one?” Mapi asked you, completely innocently after training one day in the change room. At first you pretended not to hear, until you realised the whole team was awaiting an answer.

“Do you think I’m just naturally the fastest on the team?” you joke back, getting a laugh from her and a few others. Alexia remains stone face, looking as though she could see right through you.

A few of the girls watched you through squinted eyes as you pull your bag over your shoulder, noticing your spine that wasn’t visible last week. They exchange looks amongst themselves as you and Alexia walk towards her car.

“I got a call from your school yesterday” Alexia says, hiding behind her sunglasses as she pulls out of the car park.

“Why” you ask dry as you pull your phone out of your hoodie pocket. Alexias’s silence was inevitable. You turn your head towards her, awaiting a response. She keeps her eyes on the road, rolling her tongue along her top teeth, looking out at the cars ahead in deep thought.

“Why are you hiding from me bebita?” she breaks her silence, with an almost whisper.

“What are you talking about” you snap back in her direction

“You tell me Pequeña, Why do you think your school called, Se honesta conmigo” her eyes didn’t leave the road.

“No sé” you reply, swallowing the truth that lingers on the tip of your tongue, threatening to reveal itself.

“What is going on with you” Sabes que no deberías actuar de esta manera.” She takes a breath, remaining hidden being her bold sunglasses, refusing to look you in the eye, scared of becoming too vulnerable.

The silence was deafening. Pulling up in the driveway, you reach for the car door, your attempt at defusing the situation quickly rejected as Alexia locks the doors, trapping you in a conversation. You refuse to turn from the window, Alexia now being the one begging for eye contact.

“Bebita, look at me” she whispers. Her failed attempt of a resolution resulting in her hand reaching for your long curls, gently moving your head around to see your face. Her breath hitches as she looks at the tears swelling in your eyes, immediately bringing her thumb to wipe them off your soft skin.

“I hate when you yell at me” you begin, chocking on almost every syllable. “Estoy tratando de ser valiente”

“oh cariño ven” she says desperately as she pulls you effortlessly over the centre console and into her lap, wrapping her arms around you. Your tears just get heavier, as you hide your face into her neck, the idea of getting out of the car, now long forgotten.

“Bebita, your school is worried, you are the top student, why are you not doing work? Hay algo que te distraiga? She gently nudges you in her arms as she askes. “I am worried for you, talk to me”.

You just couldn’t bring yourself too. The truth is, you were too distracted for school, for homework, for study. There was so much on your mind right now. The last thing you were worried about was classes that you already knew all the content for. You were hungry, not eating at all, desperate for control over your changing body.

The next dreaded team bonding night came all too soon. Your tried to convince Alexia you were too busy with school but she wasn’t having a bar of it, almost having to drag you out the door and into the car. Nothing you wanted to do more in that moment than curl up in bed with a teddy and your warm blanket Alexia got you for my room in her house. But it was unavoidable. Alexia was correct in the way of you having to be at the dinner, in her perspective it was to show up and be social, for you personally it was about proving the concerned rumours between the girls that you weren’t eating wrong. However, that didn’t exactly go to plan.

Alexia parks in the driveway of Mapi and Ingrid’s home and you follow her inside. You greet all your teammates, receiving a kiss on the cheek and head pat from most of them and they smile down at you.

Since the conversation in Alexia’s car a few weeks ago, she hasn’t let you out of her sight, you didn’t even get into the not eating stuff, but still has watched your every mouthful over the past few weeks. You still had your tricks, not eating when she wasn’t around, running now three times a day on top of training, and all else. You were deteriorating. Dark bags under your eyes and hallowed cheeks.

“Y/n come get some pizza before you sit” Frido pulls you to the kitchen away from the crowd that was the typical team bonding, this felt like a test.

“Oh no, its okay” you scan your surroundings before following up your statement. “Alexia fed me before we came” you smile, attempting to be casual.

“oh, that’s weird, we always have dinner at team bonding” she raised an eyebrow, questioning what felt like your whole existence. She grabs a slice for herself and tries to offer you some anyways, failing as you kindly decline, insisting you will have some later.

People were scattered everywhere around the home, some sitting around the table playing card games, others vacating outside with a drink. You scan the house looking for place to escape to. All you wanted was to leave the overstimulation that was this monthly event.

You head towards the empty bathroom, the room you spend probably the most time in at other people’s houses. You begin to almost run towards it as you hear your name being called. It was too late; Lucy was stood outside yelling your name through the door of the garden.

“Y/n, come talk to us we miss you” she giggles as she enters the room to get you. You begin the walk of shame towards her. Overthinking what is coming next. Stepping out the door onto the porch your gently grabbed by the back of the neck and brought to a group of women standing around. Their faces light up as they see you. The group consists of Mapi, Lucy, Alexia Frido, Jenni and Ona, all sharing a bottle of wine.

“Y/n, you want a drink?” Ona asks, you aren’t sure if she’s joking or not.

“No Ona, she is a child” Jenni interferes and takes the drink Ona is pouring, handing it to Lucy, who puts it down with ease. You crack a smile at the interaction. They think you are so innocent…

“You’re not old enough for a drink yet Bebita, especially on an empty stomach” Alexia jokes with a smile.

“empty stomach?” Frido butts in, tilting her head in confusion at the contradicting information.

fuck.

You let out a load cough to clear your voice before quickly excusing yourself from the conversation. “I need to pee” you announce before hurrying inside, finding Ingrid at the table, playing cards with a few others.

The group, now abandoned by you stand in a deafening silence.

“She’s not eating is she?” Frido breaks, looking at Alexia with wide eyes.

“Shes not doing good, no” Their captain reply’s looking down at the glass in her hand.

“So we were right” Mapi says through squinted eyes as she tightened her grip on the stem of her wine glass.

Most of the team has been talking for a few weeks now. Lucy briefly filled them in about your history with Self harm and how you were managing it now. But the not showing up to meal times and doing overtime in the gym was something she couldn’t explain. However, they soon linked it to the bullying from people online about your body. It became to much for them all when Alexia broke down in front of them, claiming her worry for you. It was clear there was a bigger picture to what you were letting them see, seeing as their usually stone faced, strong captain had tears in her eyes over you.

Your rapid weight loss didn’t go unnoticed, even coaching staff beginning to threaten benching you if you didn’t gain some weight, claiming you were too weak to continue at full trainings and games. You always just told them you were sick, claiming it as an excuse for the weight loss and loss of appetite.

At first, everyone, including team members believed you, until they noticed you weren’t getting better, like you would if you were really sick with a catchable illness.

“So what are we going to do? because we cant loose her, shes our best” Lucy asks, getting more frantic as the sentence rolls out her mouth.

“I’ve tried talking to her, she just lies, tells me shes fine, ella me ignorará” Alexia says, finally looking up from her half full glass, meeting the eyes of her teammates.

“I know she needs me, but she won’t talk to me, she is sneaking into my bed each night for comfort, I wrap my arms around her when she falls alseep, ella tiene miedo de estar sola, shes been clinging to us, as if she is desprate for help, but doesn’t know how to ask. She won’t leave my side, unless there is food involved. luego ella desaparece” Alexia blurted out, speaking slow and clear, explaining herself.

“Maybe if we all try” Ona breaks her personal silence, earning a raised brow from a few listeners, the nodding heads soon followed.

“Bebita, can I come in” You hear Alexias voice beam through the small gap in the doorframe.

“A few of us are here too see you” you tilt your head in confusion at her followup statement, why are people here to see you, so late in the evening. You thought everyone would have returned home after team bonding, as did you and Alexia, why was there people outside your bedroom door?

You sit up in your bed, still tucked under the covers in your hoodie (that may of may not be Alexias) and shorts, clinging to your Stitch teddy. You close your laptop playing your movie and move it down the bed, finally giving Alexia a response.

“ehh, yeah come in” you say, unsure on what you are agreeing too.

You remain put under the safety of your covers, as if they would protect you from danger as the group of women enter your once personal space, finding refusge in spots around your room, most of them making themselves at home on your bed, espechailly Alexia, who comes up close to you and wraps and arm around your shoulders. Lucy, Ingrid, Mapi, Frido and Ona looked at you, as if they were waiting for you to break the artifical silence.

“Querida estamos aquí para hablar contigo” Ingrid is the first to speak up, beofre Mapi adds to her girlfrinds statement.

“I think you know what about” she fidgests with her rings. “we are just trying to understand”

“so help us do that, please sweetheart” Frido interupts.

You shake your head and close your eyes, as if you could open them and it would all go away. “I don’t know what your talking about”

“I have lectured you enough about your lying bebita” Alexia says in a stern voice.

The silence isn’t going away. You were in full control of it, and you knew that. You knew that they were waiting for you to talk, no one was going to make it easy for you.

”Desearía poder hacer que todo desaparezca” you shut your eyes once again as the tears start to spill out the creases. “I just want to be able to control what is changing”

The girls don’t speak, they are waiting for more, and they won’t break untill they are statified.

“I don’t know how to ask for help, or how to be okay” The tears get heavier as you push out the words, Alexia runs her free hand along your face, nudging you to keep going. You put in your best efforts to regain your breathing as your lip quivers in Alexia’s hand. Still no one was talking.

“I never meant for it to get this bad, I just wanted to get some control, I feel like there is so much online about me, rumors, hate, negitivity, all things I cant just reach out and get my hands on, to be able to toy with it and mold it to the way I want it. There is so little I can control, but my body, I can. No queria llegar tan lejos. Im so scared of losing myself, I want to hold onto the me that I am forever but I know I can’t, but I wanted to try, and that is why I yearn for whatever control I can get. So many ideas are put into my head about what my body should look like, how tall I should be, how much I should weigh, how tan I should be, how I should hold myself. I realised I am so calm and content when I play football, and that is because I am perfect at it, no one finds flaws in the way I play, but I second I step off the pitch I loose that warm feeling, because I have flaws again. When football is out of the picture, I am covered in them. I just wanted living to feel the same as playing, perfect and flawless.

The amont of tears in the room should safe a deadly drought.

“nuestra niña hermosa, estamos aquí” Ingrid climbs onto the bed coming closer to you, followed by the remaining womens in the room, all finding a spot, as close to you as they could get. So many arms are wrapped around you, so many hands holding your face, wiping your cold tears away.

“Let us help you darling” Lucy and Ona say in an unmost unison.

You slowly allow yourself to nod.

The following weeks were slow and painful, but what isn’t in recovery? The girls put it upon themselves to keep you in check, taking turns taking you out on small adventures, like going for walks or getting icecream to get you out of the house as you were ruled out of training and playing for a few weeks by your phycologist, that Alexia and Lucy insisted that you saw, they drove you to each appointment and picked you up, no questions asked. Meal time in the house became a big thing, Alexia discarding the idea of sitting around the table and eating, instead opting for sitting wherever, weather that was outside, or in, watching a movie, or just chatting. This change of environment around meals made eating less of a chore, as you got better, teammates would come over for dinner and it became more a social event, a more relaxing endeavor. You slowly made your way back to training as you got your fitness back, earning pats on the back from your team who you had made, very proud.

#wsl #woso #lucy bronze #ona batlle #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #lucy bronze x reader #barca femeni #barca #barcelona femeni #barcelona x reader #lucybronze #lionesses #teen reader #eating disoder trigger warning #mental health #fluff #fanfic

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repulsiveliquidation · 1 month

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Guardian of My Heart || Leah Williamson

based on this request here! it's not that long but i loved writing this so much so i hope y'all like it!

warnings : angst with happy ending. mentions of injury.

“And that’s the final whistle folks, Chelsea takes this game with a comfortable 3-1 win over the Gunners here at Stamford Bridge.”

Leah’s eyes fill with tears at the final whistle. Her heart shatters audibly in her chest. A game they needed to win to have a chance at the title, thrown away by silly mistakes and sloppy football. She walks around the pitch in shame, apologizing to all the Gooners in the stands who came only to see them fail.

“I’m sorry,” she says to the crowd, tears falling down her face. The rest of the girls do the same, making their way to the stands to thank fans and sign jerseys. The home side erupts in a painful cry of victory, one that makes Leah’s chest almost cave in on itself.

The changing room is silent except for the sound of bags being packed and the muted drumming of water on the floor from the showers. One by one the girls make their way to the bus, offending socks from the wardrobe mishap filling the trash bin in the locker room.

Leah sulks when she hears the girls all planning to see their partners at home and just forget today’s game. She just jammed her AirPods into her ears and played her country music loudly, hoping the gaping hole of loneliness in her chest would go away with the serenading words of Luke Combs.

She knew her house would be lonely. She knew her house would be quiet. She knew her house would be dark. There was no one waiting. The person she wanted most would not be there. There was only one person to blame for that.

“Leah, you can’t keep doing this to me!” you yelled, rounding the coffee table as Leah stumbled into the house at twenty past three on a Saturday. You came over at eight thinking Leah would be home since she promised to help you cook dinner and enjoy the Bachelor finale on TV together. Instead, you walked into her apartment with your spare key to an empty house and her bedroom a mess. Her makeup was all over the bathroom and she had clearly changed her shoes at least three times.

You waited and waited for her to get home, calling the Arsenal girls to figure out where she had gone. They felt sorry for you and tried to get Leah to go home to you but she said something that the moment it left her lips, your heart broke into pieces.

“You’re such a fucking needy bitch, get off my back for once!”

You don’t know why you still sat in her living room for three more hours and waited for her to get home. You knew you needed to know she was home safe. That she was okay. That she didn’t choke on her own vomit from drinking too much. Because despite being her second choice for a while now, you still loved the England skipper. You still love Leah Williamson.

Leah drove home in pin-drop silence. Her kit bag was thrown in the back to be dealt with later, her arm on the door holding her head up as the streets of London were a blur. She parked in her spot and walked out like a zombie, not noticing your car in her driveway and her porch light on.

The key turned easily and she walked into her house to the turntable on low and the smell of smileys and a roast coming from the kitchen. She looked down and saw a pair of shoes that she recognized and a voice that was singing along to the music that she had fallen asleep to a million times.

“Y/N?” Leah spoke aloud, toeing her shoes off and dropping her kit bag. She shuffled into the kitchen and saw you standing there at the stove, stirring in the roasting tray and making a gravy. There were two plates on the island she instantly knew which one was hers. You turn and give her a soft smile, pushing your chin out to gesture her to sit. She does and grabs the bottle of wine you’ve set out and pours the two glasses full of Cabernet.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, grabbing a smiley off the plate she knew was hers and nibbling on the cheek.

“I wanted to make sure you had something to eat,” you answer curtly as you put the whisk down and grab a gravy boat, smiling to yourself when you still remember where it was.

“Y/N,” Leah says sternly, putting her half-eaten smiley down.

You turn and put the gravy boat next to the roast, finally looking at your ex-girlfriend.

“I needed to know that you were okay, after today.”

“Why?” Leah asks, voice carrying a lilt of guilt with fresh tears filling her eyes.

You walked around the island and turned the skipper in her seat to face you. You held her face in your hands, wiping the tears that fell. You had been in this situation before when Leah tore her ACL.

“You’re going to be okay, Leah.”

“What if I never play like I used to ever again?”

“You don’t ever need to worry about that because you will. The Leah Williamson I know never gives up.”

She chuckles but more fear settles in her heart. Leah looks up at you at the very island she’s sitting at right now.

“I’m scared,” she admits sheepishly, looking defeated and terrified. You cup her face and wipe the tear stains off her face.

“You will get through this Leah and I will be there every step of the way.”

“You won’t leave? They always leave.”

“I would never. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispers back to you before you kiss her, her mind willing itself to get better. If not for her, for you.

Zach Bryan’s voice fills the room softly, the lyrics of ‘Tourniquet’ “take care of the blood that your love runs through” remind you of why you packed up a roast and stopped at the shops for a bag of frozen smileys. It reminds you of all the nights you massaged her leg when it was feeling tight. It reminds you of all the nights when you sat beside her and held her close while she cried at another delay in her recovery. It reminds you of all the nights you spent awake with her when she couldn’t sleep because of the pain.

Was it worth it? Yes.

Would you do it all over again? Yes.

Leah breaks down when her eyes meet yours. The smell of your perfume and your musk flood her senses with all the reasons why she was in love with you all those years. Deep down inside she knew she still felt that way and hoped that you did too.

Leah cries. The pain of losing, hurting her hamstring just as she’s called to the England squad for the first time since her ACL, and the overwhelming sense of disappointment burst the moment you held her in your arms again. It was home and it was safe. Leah clung onto your hoodie and made a right mess on the front but you didn’t care. Leah needed you and you wished you could take away her pain.

“I just wasn’t me out there today and that cost us the game,” Leah muttered after calming herself down and her hiccups stopped.

“Today wasn’t just your fault, honey,” you cooed, taking the hair tie out of Leah’s hair and combing your fingers through her blonde locks. She rested her head against your stomach and closed her eyes, zeroing in on your touch.

“I let the team down,” she countered, pulling you closer to her.

“It just wasn’t anyone’s day today, my love,” you cupped her face and wiped more of the tears that were about to fall from her eyes. You leaned in a little and were a bit unsure, but feeling her nudge herself towards you gave you the approval you sought.

Her lips felt familiar against yours.

Salty.

Warm.

Recognizable.

Home.

She chased your lips and melted into them, gripping your wet hoodie like her life depended on it or that you would vanish if she let go, even for a second.

“I’m sorry I treated you the way I did, you don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve someone willing to love you for you, Leah,” you reassure her and seal it with a kiss, walking away from her to chuck the roast back in the oven to warm up for a bit and her smileys into the air fryer for a little reheating.

Zach’s voice fills the blanks when you look at her blue eyes, her features blow you away every time you look at her. You bled your whole soul into things you can't control; in a world you'll never satisfy brings Leah back to reality. The game today was good. It didn’t go their way from the beginning with those wretched socks and their delayed start but they gave it their all. It was a lesson to be learned and one to look back on when the team had lost its spark.

Leah scoffs down half the roast and convinces you to throw a couple more smiley into the air fryer for her to drown in your delicious gravy. You put a fresh toothbrush next to hers in her bathroom and have a glass of warm milk on your bedside waiting for you like you like.

“You remembered,” you tell her as she hands you a ratty jersey for you to sleep in. You throw it on and inhale her delicate scent, your heart filling with warmth and ease.

“I still set it out sometimes you know, especially after you left.”

“You’ll have to try and remember again now, I think,” you tease, and she stands in front of you. You sip on your milk and she kisses the foam mustache off your lips.

“I’ll never forget, my love. Ever.”

#woso x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #engwnt x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso soccer

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awfcspencer · 2 months

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Oxygen || jill roord x reader

prompt: When the Netherlands beat the USA in the Tokyo Olympics, you need your girlfriend to take your mind off the loss.

warnings: mdni 18+ smut, bottom!reader, top!jill, oral, fingering, face riding, begging, praise, a few spanks

Everything about the Tokyo 2020 Olympics was different. Due to the previous worldwide pandemic, all countries and teams were completely isolated away from each other in the Olympic village to avoid a massive outbreak. Which meant that you hadn’t seen your Dutch girlfriend in the flesh in nearly three weeks. Three long, long weeks. Most nights you were unable to rest properly, knowing that your girlfriend was somewhere in the sweeping halls of the Olympic village lying in bed without you. You burned for her to be near, ached for her in many ways.

For you, Jill was like coming back up for air after being submerged under water for too long. A lifeline, like oxygen to the body. The weight of playing professional football is tolling, especially during international windows that forced you to be apart from the midfielder. You had missed her warm embrace and relaxing nature that brought you back to reality when you had a bad day at training or when your boots just didn’t feel right on your feet. In her arms, it was just you and her, no fans screaming your name and no one to disappoint when your shots didn’t go in. Just the two of you. Your teammates tried to do their best to keep your spirits high, the Olympic window was a long, grueling one, but they all knew who you really needed. Most nights, they found you huddled in bed watching your girlfriend’s match. Even in a massive tournament where your countries were opponents, you would always support her. On the Dutch side of the village, Jill did the exact same thing, even when her national teammates poked fun at her on countless occasions.

It also didn’t help that the quarterfinals had been set, the United States versus the Netherlands. You would have to face off on the pitch for your countries for the first time. The United States and The Netherlands had a history, your countries oppositions during the 2019 World Cup. The set of games that you hadn’t played in due to an injury in your hamstring that left you off the roster two weeks before the announcement. In the privacy of your own home, you had worn your USA kit to cheer on your respective country, but secretly cheered when your girlfriend was subbed on during the 66th minute.

Before leaving for Tokyo, you and Jill had set a clear no communication boundary. You both took playing for your country with pride, and it was easiest this way to make sure the two of you were in the best mindset to train and play to your best abilities. If only you could back and eat those words. You assumed it would be the best alternative to keep your head clear, but it had the direct opposite effect and only made you long for the girl more. But luckily, walking onto the pitch the day of the match, you had only one focus, securing a spot in the semifinals.

Your countries national anthem rang out and while you tried to calm your overworking brain that was filled with nerves, you couldn’t help but peer over to the Netherlands side to spot her. Locking eyes was nearly enough for you to settle down and breath correctly, letting out a ragged breath you weren’t even aware you were holding in. Trying to pretend Jill wasn’t mere inches away from you as you shook her hand before the match was crushing. Wanting nothing more to pull her in for even just a moment. You could tell from the quick look in her eyes that she wanted the same thing, a look you knew all too well. However, her once alluring gaze turned fixed as the referee blew the whistle and the game began.

In the first opening minutes, the United States came out firmly on the front foot offensively, gaining two solid chances on target that unfortunately the Dutch goalkeeper made impressive saves to keep the score 0-0. Playing in the midfield meant that you were stationed in close proximity with the one person who had been infiltrating your every waking thoughts. Forcing yourself to pretend the Netherlands number six was just another girl, a girl you weren’t head over heels in love with. Jill had apparently done the same, forwarding a risky tackle to your ankles right before halftime whistle that most certainly could have gotten her a yellow. Fortunately, the quick whispered apology as she helped you to your feet was left between the two of you. Her touch was electric and while it felt as if the world had paused on its axis, it certainly hadn’t and the ball zipping past your feet was the best indicator that you were in the middle of an important match.

The Netherlands were able to capitalize first and get on the board through Vivianne Miedema, a red-hot forward you had grown to know through Jill. Thankfully, Lynn Williams sent a ball into the penalty area, and you had found the back of the net with a diving header to level the score. After the break, the game continued to be a back-and-forth battle between the two countries. Both teams had created hopeful opportunities, but neither was able to clear the net, sending the match into extra time. Extra time was over just as quickly as it started and neither team had punched their ticket to the semifinals, leading the match to penalty kicks.

Standing interlocked with your national teammates facing the goal while the shootout took place is where you come to the obvious realization that either you or your girlfriend would be leaving this match with a crippling defeat. Being so focused on match preparation and tactics, the heartbreak that one of you would be feeling after had completely slipped your mind. It was an instance the two of you hadn’t properly discussed before leaving. With two missed penalties on your side, it seemed you would be leaving Tokyo without a medal. A goal by Dominique Janssen sealed the deal for the Netherlands. As the players in the orange kits raced around the pitch celebrating, basking in the alive hope to obtain Olympic gold, you had fallen to your knees taking in the moment. Remembering every ounce of sweat, blood, and tears it took to be on this stage. You braced yourself for post-match discussion with teary eyes and sore limbs. Each second felt like an hour as Vlatko ran through his postgame notes and then finally left so you could get changed and return to your hotel room. The changing room was quiet as everyone kept themselves mostly, some older teammates helped the younger ones through the emotions with hugs and affirmations. Kelley had alerted you that someone was waiting outside the door for you. Peering your head out, you were met with piercing grey ocean eyes, and it was as if a god had answered your prayers.

“Hi baby.” Her voice was angelic and exactly what you needed. She was still in her sweaty kit but that didn’t matter much as you bolted straight into her arms. Your glossy eyes were enough of an indication that you just needed her, she carefully ran her fingers through your hair and hugged you tight.

“Missed you.” You voice was brittle as you spoke into her chest. She was slightly taller than you and your small frame fit puzzle-like into her, being able to rest your head in the crook of her neck and collarbone.

“I missed you too.”

A small, fleeting kiss that quickly turned passionate and hungry. You didn’t want to think about the loss anymore, you just wanted to relish in Jill’s presence. With the tournament ending for you, Jill had extended the invite to her hotel room for the night. The USWNT was scheduled to take the first flight back to the States in the morning so this could be the last time you would be able to see her until she returned home, hopefully with gold around her neck. If you couldn’t win, you wanted her to.

Jill had sent you the directions to make your way covertly over through the large Olympic village. Dressed in a matching black jumpsuit and a cap, you kept your head low and walked carefully as to not be spotted. A small knock on her room door and she swiftly ushered you into the room, checking her surroundings in the hall as you walked in. She had changed and showered, the edges of her hair were still damp as you hugged her. Stood in her arms just taking in each other, breathing in her warm almond and coconut scent. It had been a long three weeks without her.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

A head nod in agreement as you settled in between her long legs, and she flicked on a film. Roughly fifteen minutes in, your attention was no longer on the television, instead it was on the lingering fire in your chest that you had felt lying in bed night after night without the Dutch. All you can think about it the feeling of Jill’s body against yours. With growing arousal, you turned towards her and pulled her in for a searing kiss, throwing your arms around her neck as you shifted to kneel between her legs to be able to pull her closer. She met your lips eagerly for a moment, nipping your bottom lip before she drew backwards. In your relationship, Jill typically had the higher sex drive, so it was a bit out of character for you to pursue the midfielder, especially after a crushing loss.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to baby.” She dragged her thumb along the side of your cheek, her eyes darting to yours to scan for any sort of reluctance. The desire burned in the Dutch midfielder as it did inside you, but she was also content spending the night cuddling and interlocked with you. All she really wanted was to be near you, to make up for lost time. Jill’s large hands roam the outlines of your covered toned back.

“I want to. I need to,” you reassured her, looking up at her through your lashes with dilated pupils. You needed to forget about the loss, forget about the match entirely. You needed something, or someone, to free your clouded mind. Your look of approval was enough for Jill, shifting your bodies so you were now parallel under her.

“I’ve wanted this for so long. God, you’re beautiful.” Jill had not fully registered how long she had been without your body.

“I’ve really missed you,” you told her, meeting her lips.

Her hands trailed up your sweatshirt finding your exposed breasts, you had forgone wearing bra in hopes that this was how the night was going to end. A low groan fell from your mouth as she kneaded the delicate skin, inching the fabric upwards to pull it over your head and remove it from your body entirely. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you watched as her defined ab muscles flexed when she followed suit and quickly discarded her oversized tee. The burning desire only grew in your body as you surveyed her tanned skin, she had certainly got some sun in Tokyo. She bent down to reconnect your lips, her larger frame gently falling onto yours, your fingers ran through her dirty blonde hair pulling her in closer. You needed the contact, you needed her close to your body. It was a heated, passionate kiss while her hands grabbed desperately at your bottom half, eager for you to remove your bottoms.

Swiftly throwing them to the side as she pushed your body backwards into the mattress, your head finding a pillow to rest on. Her warm fingertips trailed up and down your thighs, she could feel the tension in your flexed quads. She could tell your body was tense.

“Baby relax, I’ll take care of you,” she cooed, placing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs as she spread them wide.

A small wet circle had formed on your underwear as she lingers her fingers along the top hem. Drawing little soft circles and placing a soft kiss on your clothed clit, humming to herself that she can make you feel this good without even properly touching you yet.

“All this for me?” she devilishly grinned against your skin.

Removing the last piece of clothing remaining between you and a release dangerously slow, taking her time to attach her mouth to your chest. Taking turns between your breasts, she takes a nipple into her mouth and sucks greedily, cupping the other with her free hand before she bites onto the flesh. Finding home in her locks, you pushed her head lower down your body.

“So needy huh baby?”

She licked a broad stroke up your cunt, finally where you really needed her, using her thumb to flick side to side on your exposed clit. A hushed moan left your mouth, forcing you to bite you lower lip to stay silent assuming her national teammates were just across the hall. You didn’t want them to hear your desperate noises for the Dutch.

“You can be as loud as you want. The rest of the team is out celebrating. I want to hear you. Baby.”

Unhooking your lips in an o-shaped motion when she began gliding her long fingers through your slit, using your arousal to coat her fingers.

“Fuck Jill,” shivering under her touch.

“Good girl. You taste so good baby,” placing her fingers in her mouth as she sucked relentlessly on them to properly taste you, she had missed your taste. Inching them towards you as they entered your mouth and you tasted yourself, a line of spit connecting them as she pulled them out and pushed her pointer finger slowly into you. Your pussy easily swallowed her warm finger inch by inch. Her other hand on your thigh to hold you in place on the mattress, a grounding placement that helped the previous stress of the match fall out of your mind, relinquishing in her touch.

“Don’t tease me Jill, I need more,” it was a sweet little plea that spurred her on. You needed her to fuck you hard, inching the sore limbs and upset emotions from the previous 90 minutes of football to the back of your mind.

Twisting her head downwards at your request, fluttering her tongue along your clit. Her slow thrusts with one finger speedily turned to two fingers stretching you out and working you open to eventually adjust to a third. Gripping your wrists above your head as she fucked into you. You were sure she was going to leave a trail of bruises on the skin but the way she pounding into you left the concerns a tomorrow’s problem. Her mouth found home on your neck, sucking roughly at the wide-open skin, running her tongue down the newly formed dark red marks she left across your body. Your moans only got louder and louder. She paid attention to the way your hips moved in rhythm with her fingers, essentially fucking yourself on her fingers.

“Mm Jill,” as she skillfully curled her fingers against your walls.

“Who makes you feel like this,” she groaned out.

“You, Jill, only you can make me feel like this,” you yelled out, feeling no shame in letting everyone in the Olympic village know who pleases you.

Mercilessly fingering into you with an unrelenting tempo brought you closer to chasing climax. With her knuckles deep, shockwaves were sent through your body, tightening around her digits.

“Close Jill…. Close.”

“Let go baby, I’ve got you,” unhooking your wrists and instead interlocking one of your hands with her. Brushing her thumb along the top of your hand and with a few more thrusts you were falling apart under her. With your head thrown back and your breath hitched, your hips jut out towards her and your back arches off the bed as you reach your peak. Jill carefully coaxes you through your high, hand now stationed on your thighs kneading the skin as you come down. Once your breathing had returned to normal and your legs had stopped squirming, Jill met your eyes.

“I want you to ride my face,” she suggested.

Locking eyes with her, “Are you sure?”

She shook her head and settled on her back in between two pillows and shifted you onto her lap. You grinded harder on her, interlocking your lips in a wet sloppy kiss. You stationed yourself over Jill’s face as she leaded back more to allow you to fully kneel around her head. Jill’s hair sprayed against the pillows with her dark hooded eyes staring up at you, you nearly could have came at the sight. You placed your hands on the headboard to avoid possibly suffocating the girl and settled your dripping pussy on her face. You could feel her hot breath tickling your skin. She cupped your chin and made you watch as you rode her face.

“I want you to stay like that,” she murmured against your inner thigh.

The moment her tongue made contact with your folds, your hands flew from the headboard to grip her hair. She let out a loud moan and pressed her face closer to your core. The tip of her nose carefully rubbed against your sensitive clit. Her hands pinched your tits, rolling the buds between her fingers. Her pointed tongue skillfully buried inside you, moving with rapid pace. You couldn’t help but grind your hips, fucking yourself on her tongue.

“Taste so good,” she mumbled.

You felt yourself throb and close your thighs around her head. Rocking your hips to grind down harder on the Dutch, smearing your arousal all over the midfielder’s lips. You could feel her moan against your core that sent vibrations throughout your body. She pulled your swollen bud in her wet, skilled mouth. She pushed her tongue past your tightness and prodded at your walls.

“Oh fuck Jill,” you choked out a whimper.

“Come on baby, just one more. You’re doing so good for me.”

You reached your hand down to rub your clit as she increased her speed. You threw you head backwards as your eyes clenched closed when a sharp smack hit your ass and your hips bucked against air.

“Be a good girl and I’ll let you come.”

Your skin burned as the coil in your stomach was so close to snapping. You peered down to the girl between your thighs, her mouth glistening with your wetness as you rocked back and forth.

“Please, please, please Jill, let me come. I’ll be good,” you begged.

Jill grinned against you and pulled you down by your thighs to be closer to her. Moans and whimpers slipped past your mouth as your walls clenched around her tongue, flicking against your sensitive nub. Your knees are tilting back and forth against her face, spreading yourself more open for her to hit every inch of you.

“Baby you taste so sweet. Such a sweet little cunt all for me. Let go for me.”

With another rough flick to your clit, you cried out as her tongue lapped up your juices and you caught your breath. You swivel your hips in small circles to ride out your high as your temple throbs with overstimulation. You fall forward against the headboard as Jill licks you clean. You topple off of her and instead next to her on the bed, trying to regulate your breathing and your blurry vision.

On the mattress next to the girl, you crane your neck to see Jill staring up at the ceiling with a cocky grin carved into her face. Licking her lips and using her hand to clean her chin to wipe off the leftovers of your orgasm. She turns her head slowly towards you and scoots closer to your body, brushing the hairs off of your sweaty forehead.

Placing a soft kiss on your lips, “I really missed you baby.”

Curling in next to her and interlocking your hands, you told her, “I missed you too baby.” Jill pulled the once discarded comforter over your bodies and you snuggled more into her. You would think about the loss tomorrow, right now you were in Jill’s arms, and for right now, even if it was for just a few more hours, you were relaxed.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso smut #jill roord x reader #jill roord #jill roord smut #woso community #woso blurbs #woso soccer

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trulyhblue · 4 months

Text

Baby England (Part Two)

Lionesses x Young! Reader, Leah Williamson x Reader (platonic) Keira Walsh x Reader (platonic), Lucy Bronze x Reader (platonic)

Warnings: fluffy angst, mentions of blood/injury, coarse language.

Masterlist

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The Euros were flying past, and before you knew it, you were tapping your studs anxiously against the tunnel floor as you awaited the start of the Quarter Finals.

Every other game up until now had been different. You were promised a secure spot on the bench, assured the security of a safety sub during the last third of the game. You didn't receive the special treatment when you played. If anything, you were pushed harder by your opponents’ attempts to spike you out. You were young, younger than most of the women you played with and against, but you were there for a reason.

Sometimes you needed to be reminded that.

You were versing the Spanish Team. Contrary to many of your teammates, this was your first time playing them. Of course, you were aware of the individuals that you were playing against. You would be lying if you said you didn't idolize them. The mere idea of standing next to Mapi Leon and Aitana Bonmati was a frightening feeling. It was a bugging sensation filling your stomach. You tried searching the floor for any hope to calm your nerves, but the absence of serenity did nothing in response.

You weren't quite sure why Sarina had decided to put you in the starting eleven, especially in such a critical, knockout stage like today. The Euros were your first major tournament. When you told Leah the news, she wouldn't let you go from a bear-crushing hug until you wrenched her arms off you. She was reeling with excitement at the prospect of you standing alongside her in front of thousands of people. She couldn't contain her elation on the way to Falmer Stadium, and you tried to find the same emotions within yourself but the notion was proven difficult.

Hempo and Alex were giggling in a huddle as the team warmed up together. Leah was running laps with Beth. Rach and Millie were dribbling a ball with Ellen and Fran, and you were left stretching by the drink bottles, deep within your own thoughts.

You could see the Spanish girls across the field, eloping the growing crowd that littered the stands, all while split into groups as they carried out their respective warm-ups. You felt your hamstring tug while you ran you hands down your leg, tugging at your muscles so that they wouldn't tweak in the game.

The more time went by, with physios packing up their kits and subs heading over to the sideline, the more of a nervous wreck you became. You could feel the slight shake in your hands, the flood of adrenaline in your veins. Heart thumping out of your chest, beating in your ears, and bile rising in your throat.

This was your first time starting for your country. You had the impression that this was the one chance you could show not only Sarina, but all the media and fans that doubted your ability to set the tone for the game that you were capable of doing so. You wanted to make the first tackles, and produce opportunities. As a midfielder, you strived to cross the ball into the box for your strikers. Your job was to free the field of potential threats and switch between attacking and defensive plays depending on the style of your opponent.

You wanted everyone to know that you deserved to be in the starting eleven. You worked night and day, all the time, to make your dream come true. This was your life, your career, your journey.

The weight of this fell on your shoulders all at once in the tunnel as the narrow hallway blacked out most of the crowd’s roar. Everyone was in their own bubble, preparing themselves for the difficult match to come. Even as you walked out, eyes plastered on the floor, refusing to meet the eager euphoria of the crowd or anyone around you, the gravity of your situation began to set in.

You felt Leah kiss your forehead when walking past. The blush that painted your cheeks when you shook Mapi’s hand went straight through you. Nothing snapped you out of your haze. The crowd’s thundering booms fell beneath you, a level of determination fueling your insides as the whistle blew.

You ran up and down your line for nearly fifteen minutes before you finally gained possession of the ball. You were loosely marked by Guijarro beforehand, but as soon as the ball hit your feet, your legs were cut out from beneath you, leaving you tumbling face-first into the grass.

You were too high on adrenaline to feel the effects of the fall, but you felt fleeting hands sought your body when seeking to regain balance on your feet. There was a slight pang in your legs, but you quickly shook it off when offered a free kick.

“Should be a card, Ref.” One of your teammates quipped, holding your shoulders and pushing you on your way. The referee must've shooed her off too, since no acclimation changed and play resumed.

Both sides held possession well. You felt your confidence slowly increase at the endless support of the crowd. The flow of play made for excellent progress on your side of the midfield. You had curved a cross from the halfway line over to Hempo, but Ona Batlle had swiped it easily.

Georgia and Keira were absolute beasts, using their infinite knowledge to bound your team closer and closer to the goal. Spain was also moving quicker into your half as the game progressed, and the first half was coming to an end, you finally gained the opportunity to find space to shoot.

You were next to Beth, sprinting along the wing after Leah booted the ball to your end. The crowd boomed around you, your lungs gasping for air, your feet carrying you closer to the goal. Cardona was on you now, trailing your figure in the fleeting moments that felt like a lifetime.

Lauren was motioning for a crossover to her end, where no defenders thought themselves spent near. Paredes and Battle were spotting Ellen and Fran while Beth, Georgia and Keira were all making a worthy endeavour to free themselves.

Your heart raced as the wind whipped against your face, your hair whispering behind you in a tight, yet flimsy ponytail. No defenders were near the blonde. Ona and Paredes were stacking up against Ellen, while Carmona was battling Fran. Lauren was sprinting down the straight, her trajectory heading right into the box. Panos was urging her defenders back, but the communication between the two lines wasnt quick enough for your movements.

You made the move of switching the ball from your right foot to left, engulfing the fervour of the crowd as you did so. Blocking out any hesitancy, you kicked the ball as hard as you could, struggling to both watch your cross and keep straight at the same time. To your surprise, your connection with the ball made a successful thump, curving over the defenders and toward the direction of the blonde, who was almost in the box.

You watched with hope, every bone in your body ceasing up at the chance of scoring.

But before the outcome occurred, you felt your knees fall out, your legs crashing to the ground with a potent smack, leaving you winded and heaving for air. Your face made contact with the grass, your nose just skimming the ground as you made the sharp decision to move your head. For the second time that night, you heard the whistle blows to call the game to halt.

This time, however, you felt the potent emphasis of the strain on your body a lot more.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Lucy’s thick accent came into range from above you, though you couldn't exactly see since your head was firm on the ground. Nothing hurtled incredibly badly, though you couldn't help but wince at the language falling from Lucy’s mouth.

While in a desperate attempt to pull yourself upwards, Keira came crouching beside you.

“Are you alright, Darling?” She asked, soothing a hand on your shoulders. Her eyes, both cautious and caring, bore into yours. You caught sight of Leah tugging Lucy away from the ref and Mapi, who was shown a yellow card.

You glanced up at the big display screens near the top of the stadium, watching in slight horror at the replay of Mapo taking you out from behind after the ball left your feet. It could've been a red card, arguably, but you were just glad you were still okay.

You told Keira so, thanking her when she pulled you up onto your feet. Lauren was watching from the other end, hauling thumps up your way, to which you promptly responded with a disappointed nod. You wished the ref had just left you on the ground because now you were going into the second half nil all.

You tried not to think about what could've been when sauntering back into the changing rooms. You were met with some encouragement. Leah was shouting all sorts of things to the team as they replenished and rejoiced for the next forty-five minutes. Rach and Millie were on either side of you, making an endeavour to be as loud and boisterous as they could in an attempt to rule everyone up. Lauren was by your side, taking prolonged sips from her water, patting you on the back throughout the break.

You watched all the girls intently while you changed your socks, tying your shoes with a double knot before following the rest of the girls out.

Before you jogged over to find your starting position, you felt someone spin you around gently.

“If that happens again,” Lucy spoke, Keira looking equally concerned by your side. “And you feel like it's too much, we want you to tell us.”

“I'm alright,” You reassured. You knew the pair believed you. This didn't soothe them, nonetheless. “I will, though. I promise.”

Before you could escape their prying eyes, Keira pulled you into a hug.

“You doing so well, Darling.” She muttered, patting your head. “Keep doing what you're doing.”

Both sides came out with a new taste of persistence. Everyone on the field was putting in ten times the effort from before. The anticipation from the crowd and determination in each of the girls’ mind combined to push the limits of the game to an all-new high.

Your hopes came crashing down when Spain’s striker, Gonzalez sent the ball through the back of the net. You threw your head back and groaned, moving your hands to cover your face. The celebration from the red rang out, their supporters in the stands properly dedicating their level of support. Your eyes met Leah, who was already marching back to her position. She gave you a civil nod. That was all. You knew she cared more for this than anything. This was the Euros.

That was enough motivation to keep going.

You tried to find more of a defensive end to your play going into the second half. Keira and Georgia were both creating chances down the line so you thought it best to keep the Spanish forwards on their toes by marking them instead of their defence.

Soon enough, Beth, Ellen, and Fran were all subbed off. You were surprised to find yourself still on the pitch. For some reason, your usual fatigue hadn't hit you yet, the endurance of beating your opponents still raw and fresh in your mind.

With Ella, Lessi and Chloe from now on, your assistance as a defensive midfielder was all the more prevalent. You made conscience tackles when needed. You pushed your opponents out of their zones, leaving them high and dry in different spots of the field. You were continuously feeding Chloe the ball from various passes, and even when some of them fell short, you made the effort to run back and do it again.

Spain must've noticed your team’s constant attacking push since strikers were being replaced for defenders, and roles were beginning to switch amidst the field.

Alex passed you the ball from between Garcia’s legs near the halfway line. You made no reluctance in sprinting down your line, taking no time in peeling the ball to your right in Chloe’s direction. The forward bolted into the centre, finding Lessi behind her. In a swift movement, Alessia found the ball at her feet, connecting a brilliant pass to Tooney.

Everyone on your backline held their breaths, awaiting the pause from Ella as she shot from where she received the ball. It went flying, flying forever, in what felt like a lifetime, before you heard the crowds rising to their feet in Revelation.

You held your arms up high, running towards the closest person, which happened to be Leah, and gripping her tight. She swung you round off the ground, yelling into your ear as the rest of your team celebrated around you.

You were one-all, you thought.

This was it.

When it went to extra time, you were almost certain you were due to be subbed off.

You had never played more than a half before. Going into over ninety minutes on the field, about to play another half hour, was daunting. You were starting to feel the dread of exhaustion pump into you when the extra time started. If you were to stay on until the end, and it was still one-all, it would go to penalties. You had only just made your Senior Debut, anyone would be stupid to think that you would ever oblige willingly to take one.

You stuck by your defensive line for the most part, only ever really leaving your back end of the midfield if you felt there was an opportunity to be given by the other end. You and Alex were pretty much feeding each other the ball if there was nothing else to give. The Spanish girls were growing impatient with it, and their relentless pushing and shoving indicated to the two of you that they were on the last thread.

You finally gave the ball to Millie, who gave it to Leah and returned back to you. For what felt like the hundredth time that game, you ran up your line, lugging the ball cautiously through the midfield. You sent a short pass to Ella, receiving the ball only a moment later. You shot past two of your opponents, glancing up to find none of your forwards free. You waited, fighting for possession for a while, before both Keira and Gee broke free from their markers. You chased them down, booting the ball to Keira.

Keira controlled the ball through the legs of Spain’s centre-back, hauling it along their backline before Gee found a space through the main slipstream. You held your breath, filling the air hitch around you in apprehension. Gee caught the ball, holding it for her side. The world seemed to stop, pause in time. You didn't remember seeing Georgia have a go at shooting, but the screams of the stadium were enough to send you tumbling towards her in a heap of sweat and tears.

You were the first to meet Georgia, jumping onto her back as the rest of your team fought themselves around her. Nothing else mattered to you at that moment, the feeling of absolute euphoria overriding any sort of anxiety you felt beforehand. All the girls were screaming, you were fighting tears. Everything was going your way, and you’d do anything to maintain it.

And that you did.

The rest of the game was defensive for you. You didn't even bother trying to connect any balls with the goal. You were too focused on any coming into your half. Lauren and Keira were subbed off, leaving no more subs available for the game. You played your heart out for the remaining time, counting down the clock for the final whistle.

When it blew, you fell to your knees.

You weren't sure if it was from the utter exhaustion of playing a hundred-and-twenty-minute game or merely because you were going through the realisation of winning. It was a surreal feeling, one you wouldn't shake for days. You stayed on the floor with your hands covering your face, hoping no one would catch the salty tears streaming down your red, tired face.

The Spaniards were all congratulating you by the end. You were quick to shake the apology Mapi Leon sent your way, blushing furiously at any sort of recognition from the defender. You ran into Leah’s arms, letting her ragdoll you around by swayying you back and forth.

“I'm so proud of you, my girl.” She muttered, kissing your forehead.

“Love you, Lee.” You simply replied, gripping her jersey tighter in your hands, relishing the moment with your eyes closed.

You were going to the Semi Finals.

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lionesses, yourusername (pretend its you)

*liked by keirawalsh, alexgreenwood and 43,256 others.

Lionesses — first full game starting AND player of the match. SAY THANK YOU BABY ENGLAND ❤️

Comments:

leahwilliamson — well deserved, beautiful girl 💗

^ yourusername — love you Lee ❤️

^ user1 — THEY ARE SO CUTE AWWWW

user2 — THANK YOU BABY ENGLAND YOU LITERALLY CARRIED US OMG

^ user3 — nah cause fr she deserved to play every minute of that game.

keirawalsh — our stargirl 💫

* liked by yourusername

georgiastanway — yeah the baby

^ yourusername — you can't call me a baby you're literally a few years older than me

^ Georgiastanway — YEAH THE BABY

arsenalacademy — congrats, baby england ❤️

^ user4 — you better start bidding for ur gurl or else she ain't gonna be yours

^ user5 — fr they think she won't leave but if a club wants to pay she’ll go where the money’s @

^ user6 — she wouldn't leave Leah. Period.

^ user7 — I doubt Leah would care where she goes, as long as shes happy.

ellatoone — lets goooooooooo

arsenalwfc — North London raised ‼️

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soccerdrama

soccerdrama — after an absolute masterclass performance from Y/N L/N for the Lionesses against Spain this week, talks from multiple clubs have spurred.

These include;

- Arsenal

- Aston Villa

- North Carolina University

- Bayern Munich

- Manchester City

Where do you think she'll go?

Comments:

user1 — PLEASE SHE NEEDS TO STAY WITH LEAH ARSENAL ARSENAL ARSENAL

^ user2 — she suits nl so much

user4 — her and hemp are gold together. Would love to see them play for city together.

^ user5 — they've also git LUCY, keira, and Alex. City will be unstoppable with Y/N in it.

User8 — I still think she’ll go to UNC

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615 notes · View notes

forestshadow-wolf · 10 days

Text

WRETCHED THOUGHTS HAVE ME AT 3AMs

Soap surviving Makarov's shot, but the others thought he died so they left his body to be recovered, but then the recovery team went to get him his body wasn't there. They thought Makarov took his body for soem unthinkable reason.

But actually soap ended up regained consciousness, albeit disoriented and confused and alone. He staggere out of that tunnel himself, looking for anyone or anything familiar. But he was abandoned in a country that wasn't alone. And he was injured, and confused, and scared.

Eventually Eventually he does find help. And years later he's still dealing with the repercussions of taking a bullet to the head, but he's doing mostly okay, stayed in-country. He works a shady job as a private hire mercenary, it's definitely not within the law, but it's good money and he has the skills. Still hasn't contacted the 141. he could have, but they left him. What was he supposed to do with that information? Just forgive them? Oh, he thinks not.

One day the 141 has to return to the city that Makarov murdered soap, they're hunting down a new target. Soap has been hired to take out the same target (unbeknownst to them). They end up running into eachother(perhaps in the same tunnel?), maybe soap got shot or sum by the target (just work with me here bc I need it to work for this)

It's ghost that recognizes soap first.

"Johnny?" It gives soap pause, it takes a moment for his mind to dredge up this memory (it's not been the same since). "You- you're alive? Why didn't you call?" That illicits a wave of anger from somewhere deep inside him. There's blood dripping from his wounds. It splats onto the ground. He pays it no mind.

"Oh yeah, Simon, because that's my first thought when I wake up bleeding from my skull in a subway tunnel with nobody around." That makes Ghost flinch. He packs up his kit. He's still spilling blood. It's whatever, he'll live.

"You're just gonna let yourself bleed out?"

"Yeah. I am." His words come out clipped.

"You just let people hurt you all the time without doing anything about it?" Ghost accuses. As if he had any right to do so.

"You think I ask for it? I didn't ask for any of this shit!" He snaps, "I didn't ask to be shot in the head. I didn't ask to be abandoned in this fucking tunnel. And I certainly didn't ask to lose half my vision, or my hearing, or my goddamn memory. But it happened! And I had to save myself. And I did. Alone. So forgive me, Simon, if it's not 'up to your standard'. I can handle myself." Ghost flinches at the venom in his words, but he couldn't give less of a wee tattie scrap, he snaps the last buckle on his kit and leaves. Not a single glance back. He wants to, but after the shit he's survived? Simon's Johnny might have, but Soap cannot, so he doesn't.

#el rambles #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #call of duty #cod #cod mw3 #modern warfare 3

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mrchiipchrome · 8 months

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Knight In Shining Armor

W.C.- 800

Request- 'the reader is an introvert and not a hugging person. so, during camp w the lionesses, some players tease reader about it because the reader w Lessi is the opposite. Gf Lessi being protective of the reader?'

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Growing up as introverted as you did had been a challenge for sure, never really being able to open up to people making you feel left out most of the time. Maybe that’s why your parents made sure to put you to training in a teamsport as soon as they possibly could.

Still, you had major problems with getting and keeping friends, well until Alessia came along.

The young blonde, then brunette, had defended you against some particularly nasty young girls at Charlton. They had pushed you over without any reason, making your newly washed kit all muddy again.

Then like a knight in shining armor, the short girl came over and stood right in front of you, so as to protect you from their nasty words and actions.

With miraculous strength for a 6 year old, Alessia made sure that the two girls never bothered you again.

Ever since that day, your young heart only beat for her. There was nothing and no one that could come between your unbreakable bond, and with you in the midfield and Alessia up top, there was no better scoring duo than you two.

And at 7, you and Alessia got “married” after football with the trainer officiating. At 10, you and Alessia departed your childhood club in search of something bigger. At 11, you signed for the Arsenal youth academy and Alessia signed for the rival London club.

At 13, you transferred schools to be closer to one of your only friends and at 14, you confessed your obvious feelings for the other, sharing secret kisses between classes.

At 16, you finally told your families about your relationship, your families who’d always known you’d end up with the other.

At 17, you signed your first pro contract with Arsenal while Alessia got offers to play at UNC. At 18, your heart broke for the first time as you knew how hard it would be to do long distance. At 19, you cried yourself to sleep every night because you were missing your soulmate.

At 21, Alessia returned to England and your introverted heart burst with happiness at your person being back in the same country as you.

And when you won the euros alongside your love, you realized what a gift it was to have someone like her. Your very own knight in shining armor.

Even after becoming slightly less closed off to the world, there was still one thing you truly couldn’t stand, physical touch.

Whenever someone, excluding Alessia, touched you it felt like your skin was crawling and the feeling always brought tears to the corners of your eyes.

It was the only non-negotiable thing, no touch. And Alessia had always been like a hawk, making sure to not let anyone touch you longer than deemed necessary.

So, when you once again arrive at camp basically attached to your girlfriend, it doesn’t take long for the other girls to start to tease you.

—-

“Hey Y/n/n, why don’t I get hugs like that?” You hear the unmistakable sound of Lucy Bronze’s voice echo through the lobby. The shell shocked expression on your face only makes Alessia tighten her grip around your waist, nearly putting herself in front of you in a protective stance.

“Yeah Y/n, I also want a nice long hug sometimes, maybe a kiss on the head” Georgia’s next as she sends you a quick wink to accompany her statement. The possessive growl Alessia lets escape her throat might be one of the hottest things you’d ever experienced.

“Come on Y/n, just give me a little hug, it would be nice!” Mary’s loud voice carries all through the lobby as she walks towards you with her arms fully open.

That’s where Alessia’s had enough, her protective nature coming through in the most noticeable way possible. She moves her body fully in front of you, mostly blocking the three women's view of you as she holds her hand out to stop Mary from moving any closer to you.

“Right, that’s enough. Once is fine, but the two of you continuing when she’s obviously uncomfortable is just going too far. If she wants to give you a hug, then she’ll do it in her own time, are we clear?” Alessia’s booming voice is heard all throughout the lobby, and the three women in front of you nod their heads rapidly in agreement.

With a satisfied smile painting over her face, Alessia moves back to your side, hugging you protectively before leaning up and capturing your lips in a possessive kiss.

For good measure, as Alessia’s leading you towards the elevator, she turns back to the three women still standing in the same place as where she left them and winks.

Yeah, Alessia was your knight in shining armor.

#alessia russo #woso #alessia russo x reader #woso x reader #lionesses

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brighter-by-the-daly · 8 months

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Lucy Bronze x Reader

Camera Doesn’t Lie

Prompt: Could you please do something about Lucy in the new Lionesses photoshoot? She looks too good! - anon

Since Papper Snapper had left the England squad after the Euros there was an opening for club photographer. You’d been working your way up the ranks within the women’s football community for the last few years and after one too many drinks in the pub, your friends finally convinced you to press the send button on your application. You never imagined that you would get an interview, let alone the job and was soon following England Women all around the country. When the World Cup came around the staff had to wait for a call up from Sarina exactly like the squad did and you had never been so nervous in your life. You’d never even been out of the UK, let alone a country the complete other side of the world!

You’d now been with the squad for almost a year and had become close with the team, it was your job after all! If you didn’t have a good relationship with them then you could kiss goodbye to the amazing photos the club expected to receive every evening. Your job role included squeezing genuine smiles from them after a tiring day at training, managing the adaptions to clothing to be photographed just right and needed the banter to pull off some candid laughter from the players. You soon became known for your jokes that although awful, always got a authentic chuckle out of them.

Even though your time with England had been short, you soon learnt that there was one player you didn’t have to direct - Lucy Bronze. She just knew exactly what to do every single time there was a camera lense pointed in her direction. Your photo of her won the Sports Picture of the Year 2022 and she was your go-to whenever you received special requests from newspapers and magazines. Lucy’s photos were the hardest to choose between which ones made the cut because they were all stunning - there were never any bad ones to delete because she just doesn’t do bad!

Today was new kit photoshoot day and one by one the players came in ready for their pictures to be taken. The lighting had to be just right as these would be displayed during the line ups and squad list for the upcoming tournament. Every photoshoot was a long day but especially long when done singularly. Seeing on your list there was only one person left, you were relieved to find out it was Lucy, knowing her shoot would take 3 minutes max then you could get to bed - finally!

Waltzing into the room wearing this season’s England kit already pinned at the back to make it taut, hair scooped back military style with not a single strand out of place and a huge grin on her face ready to be captured. Lucy needed no direction at all, she loved the camera and the camera loved her. “Your favourite client has arrived!” her cocky demeanour always intimidated you, Lucy knew how to make your job easy but she also knew how to make your heart flutter with unease. She was just so fucking hot and she knew that too! More recently her flirtatious ways had started to eat away at you, wearing you down until you were weak and flustered over any communication with the defender. “Make sure you make me look good, yeah!” she smirked while striking different poses without having to prompt her. She’d done this so many times before that the brunette could do it in her sleep! “You know you don’t need me to make you look good Bronzey!” chuckling nervously at her comment. Everything she does she does it with confidence and that intimidated the fuck out of you. “Flattery never hurt anyone though!” her smug look through the camera made you wince. “Okay, we’re done here!” you announced quickly closing the camera lens to stop her penetrating eye contact getting to you through the screen any longer. “Nice, see ya tomorrow lil’ darlin’!” she said in her sensual deep tone of voice as she hopped down from the platform and sauntered out of the room, watching her leave she pulled her hair out from the bun as it dropped down past her shoulders. Snapping you out of your intense gaze at the name on her back when she swiftly turned around to ask if you needed any help packing up your equipment. “Nope, I’ve got it!” yelling across the hall as you fumbled over the camera cases at your feet making everything topple over and crashing sounds echo around the room, hoping she didn’t notice you watching her leave. She most certainly did because when she continued to walk away you heard a soft laugh exit her mouth as she went.

Today was the last media day before everyone left for Australia, it was the team photo day so shouldn’t take as long as the last shoot. Although these ones didn’t take as much time, they took a lot more patience because as the photographer you had to make sure everyone was looking the same way, all eyes were open and everyone was visible. Trying to direct 30 people at once was a lot harder than one at a time, it was a lot like a child’s birthday party except they were all hyper adults instead. A few small group photos took place while the rest of the team got ready. Strolling into the room looking half dressed Lucy claimed she was ready for the professional shoot. All the girls had picked their outfits from a range of smart monotone suit options but Lucy decided to skip the entire shirt rail completely and chose to only wear a waistcoat to cover her torso, showing off her toned arms and chest. “Errm, why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” the exasperation could be heard in your voice, ‘do I really need to help them get dressed too?’ you thought to yourself as if your work load isn’t already enough to handle. “Had to get your attention somehow didn’t I?” shrugging her shoulders and trying her best to look innocent but failed at covering up the smirk on her face. “You really do fancy yourself don’t you” reluctantly setting up your tripod for the photos she desperately wanted. “Well that’s one thing we have in common!” Lucy quipped, quick to hush her knowing that fraternisation amongst the squad and crew was strictly forbidden. “Did you do this on purpose?” you asked the taller brunette as you clicked away on your camera buttons. “You’re always complimenting my arms” pulling a pose with her tensed biceps like Bruce Forsyth on a 80s tv game show. “It’s my job Luce, don’t flatter yourself” laughing nervously at the eye contact she was giving you through the camera, noticing she was stepping off of the platform and edging towards you, you lowered the camera to face her. “When are you just gonna admit you fancy the pants off me, I’m bored of chasing” she said raising her eyebrow. “You literally chase a ball for a living” replying sarcastically trying to neutralise the conversation from overly flirty to just workplace friendly. “Yeah but I’m chasing you for fun, there’s a difference” her smug face coming closer to yours. “If you’re not gonna change let’s get this shoot over and done with so I’m not here till midnight, yeah?” reluctantly turning away and changing your lenses, you didn’t have to but it gave you an excuse to break away from the intense encounter. “Anything for you sweet cheeks!” the brunette winked before going off to pester someone else.

Packing up your things and heading for the door Lucy collared you “have your been waiting for me this whole time?” you asked as she startled you out of your business brain of all the editing you had to look forward to tonight. “Yeah, gotta be sure you make it to your car okay haven’t I?” draping her bare arm around your shoulders, “unless you wanna stay with me tonight?” raising her eyebrows and pulling a teethy grin. “You know that’s not allowed Lucy” shrugging her arm from around you and telling her off for still wearing the loaned clothing. “They’re gonna notice yours are missing!” tugging on the threads. “Trying to take my clothes off now are you?” she acted playfully making your eyes roll. “Give it a rest woman!” pushing her softly before walking away. Lucy quickly rushed in front of you to act defender in the doorway so you couldn’t leave, finding yourself trying to dodge past either side of her as she continued to block your exit. You were tired, hungry and getting more annoyed by the second, “I just want to go to bed!” whining and stomping your foot in frustration. Stepping towards your body you backed away from her not realising the wall was so close behind you. She had you right where she wanted you and placed one arm above her head, leaning on to the wall above you in a sexy manner. “Well why didn’t you say that?” gesturing to her hotel room door with her eyes and displaying a large cheeky grin. She was so close to your face it made your bottom lip tremble from being in such a close proximity to the brunette. As she bowed down to make your heads level your breath became shaky. “My boyfriend will be waiting for me” you blurted out, making your relationship status known while looking towards the exit, yet making no attempt to push her away from you. A cocky laugh left her mouth, “I guarantee I can make you feel better than he does” her eyes flickered between your facial features, looking down at your lips and back up to your eyes. “Is that a bet?” your voice now sensual too, your eyes copying her movements with anticipation, with every breath her face was edging closer to yours that you practically said that into her mouth. With very sudden motions Lucy wrapped her arms around your body pulling you into her, picking you up and throwing you over her shoulder like you weighed nothing causing a squeal of excitement as she carried you into her room. “You can tell me I’m right after” she smirked, kicking the door shut behind her.

#lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #lionesses #lionesses x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader #woso x reader #woso masterlist #woso fanfics #woso community #woso one shot #woso imagine

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wiisagi-maiingan · 2 years

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Absolutely fucking shameful that I can google "how to find tornado shelters" or "[location] storm shelters" and instead of getting lists of emergency shelters organized by local, state, and federal governments, I get. . . ads for companies to build family shelters.

I keep saying it, but the disaster preparation and response in the US is completely left up to individual families and it's horrifying. And when it comes to tornadoes, if you don't have a basement or other shelter, your government's recommendation is to basically tell you to pray instead of offering communal shelters. This hasn't changed even while tornadoes are getting worse and worse throughout all the country and especially the midwest.

"Have an emergency plan, with an evacuation kit and somewhere to take shelter." But WHERE are those shelters? And why are our governments not helping their communities prepare?

#this is also a call for help #if anyone knows how to find emergency storm shelters please tell me because i am beyond scared at this point #climate change

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gunnerfc · 3 months

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Rivals | Hayley Raso x Barça!Reader (18+)

(Reader plays for USWNT & Barça (former Arsenal player))

Summary: You seem to always be facing Hayley, whether it's with the national team or for club. Each time you two get a bit aggressive with each other before it finally leads to something steamier off the pitch after an El Clásico match.

Warnings: bottom!Hayley, top!reader, nipple sucking, oral (hayley receiving), coarse language, R calling Hayley “ribbons” sarcastically, hair pulling, fingering (R receiving)

WC: 4K - my longest fic so far omg 🥴

AN: yk this is fiction because Hayley is starting… (when I catch you alberto toril)

You woke up excited and filled with energy, ready to play in your first-ever El Clásico. This game has been all you could think about for the past week. When you first signed for Barcelona, you were immediately impressed with the culture and atmosphere the team had cultivated and that is only elevated when you get to play Real Madrid.

Your overall excitement was cut back when you remembered who played for Real Madrid. It seems that no matter where you are playing, you will eventually have to play against Hayley Raso. You two always played aggressively against each other, for both club and country. Some of your best moments have been playing against the Australian, and the same could be said for her. It was like you both were always trying to one-up the other.

Throughout the day leading up to arriving at the stadium with the team, you’ve tried your best to shake any thoughts of the Aussie from your head but she just wouldn’t leave your mind. Something about this game felt different between the two of you and you couldn’t place your finger on why. All you could hope for was a Barça win and to walk away having played the best you could, anything else that happened would stay on the pitch.

As you were changing into your warmup kits, Keira took it upon herself to joke about your complicated relationship with Hayley. “Excited to see your little friend, Y/n,” the midfielder laughed from her spot next to you in the locker room. You shook your head at her joke, trying to get into your game-ready mode. You slightly regret telling the Lioness about how you always play harder when it is against Hayley.

As you made your way to the pitch for warmups, you could see that the Real Madrid players were already on the pitch. You tried to not make it obvious you were looking for Hayley but as you looked around the other side of the pitch, you could hear Keria laughing from behind you. You turned to give her a pointed look before subtly looking at the opposing side once more. This time, you instantly spotted the white ribbon tied in the Aussie’s hair. Before you could look away, she turned and caught you staring. Neither of you smiled, instead the look you both had was one of competitiveness.

You spent the rest of warmups solely focused on the tasks you were told to do, each time Hayley popped into your head, you got more aggressive in your play. Jona had a look of approval at your eagerness to do well and patted you on the back as you passed him on your way back to the locker room.

After a quick speech from Alexia and Marta, the starting eleven were standing in the tunnel waiting to head onto the pitch. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Hayley standing to your left. You had to resist the urge to turn to her fully, instead, you shook your head going over everything you had done in preparation for this game. Walking out to the pitch and doing all the pre-game things, you were focused only on the next ninety minutes.

When the ref blew her whistle and Salma kicked the ball back to start the game you were all in. You played on the same side as Hayley so you were instantly marked by her. You could tell that she was also determined to play one of the best games of her career.

Each time you got the ball from one of your teammates, the Aussie was right there to take the ball from you. As much as you were annoyed at her actions, you repaid the favor each time she had the ball. Neither of you were going to let the other get past and potentially break the deadlock.

It was almost half time and the scoreline remained the same as it was when the game started. Both teams were on their A-game for different reasons. Real Madrid wanted to finally claim victory over Barcelona and Barcelona wanted to extend their winning streak over Madrid.

As you battled with Hayley for the ball near the sidelines after a perfect pass from Keira, the Australian had a tight grip on your jersey, pulling you off the ball. You ended up forcing the ball out for a Real Madrid throw and with a groan you moved away from the sidelines.

“If you wanted to see me shirtless that bad, Raso, all you had to do was ask,” you huffed in frustration. You turned your back to her to focus on who you were now marking. With your back to her, you missed the flash of arousal in the winger’s eyes as she thought about you without your shirt.

After a long forty-five minutes, the ref’s whistle blew for halftime, allowing you to catch your breath. The battle between you and the Australian winger had proven to be aggressive, taking a lot more effort than any other opponent you’ve faced this season. The talk the team received at halftime seemed to light a fire inside all of you as you took the field for the next forty-five.

Just like the first half, each team was playing their best. No one could get a good pass to set up a chance on goal and possession was split fifty-fifty. You made an effort to cut out any pass that was sent Hayley’s way, not giving her a chance to touch the ball as much as she did in the first half.

In what seemed like a rare opportunity, a pass from Ona made its way to you with what seemed like a perfect run on goal. But as you turned to start dribbling with the ball, your feet were swept out from under you and you hit the ground hard. You groaned from the pain but it was quickly replaced with anger. You could hear your teammates trying to get a yellow card shown to the Australian.

You ignored them as you focused your attention on Hayley who was trying to plead her case to the ref. You pulled her arm to force her to face, ignoring the ref’s warnings. “What the fuck was that, Raso,” you hissed, your anger evident in your tone.

“Please, we both know I got the ball first, you should watch your surroundings,” Hayley retaliated. While she was telling the truth, you were still pissed about the tackle.

Looking down at her due to the slight height difference between you, your jaw was clenched. "Look up, would ya? It hurts my neck looking down on you," you huffed, moving your hand to her chin to lift her head up. Hayley's jaw clenched this time as she shoved your hand away, the ref's whistle blowing before she could rebuttal.

With a warning for both of you, the ref allowed Barça to take a free kick where Hayley had fouled you. The free kick didn’t amount to anything as the ball was sent over the crossbar from a header from Lucy. You knew if you retaliated for the foul you would be the one with a yellow or worse, so you opted to get back at the Aussie by scoring.

Hayley had been on your heels the entire game and the second you got away from her, you scored off a perfect cross from Ona. You didn't have time to think about running towards the defender before you felt Patri jumping on your back. You quickly celebrated your goal with your teammates before jogging back to the middle of the pitch for the restart. As you passed Hayley, you sent her a smug look and a quick teasing wink which earned you an eye roll in response. If she could given you the middle finger with zero repercussions, she would've.

The scoreline stayed at one to zero for the next ten minutes before a second for Barcelona came when Aitana shot from outside the box. You had assisted her goal and were the first person she ran to when the ball hit the back of the net. As you celebrated the goal, you could see Hayley’s pissed expression as she talked to two of her teammates. Seeing the look on her face made the smile on your face grow.

With four minutes left to play, Hayley had gotten past you and was able to get a point back for Madrid. It was your turn to wear the pissed off expression as you watched the home side celebrate. For the remaining few minutes of the game, both teams failed to score again. While you were upset that Madrid had scored, you were thrilled that your first El Clásico was a success.

You took your time shaking hands with the Real Madrid players, not in a hurry to get rid of the feeling of winning an El Clásico match. After shaking hands with Olga, you turned to face the Australian you'd been neck and neck with all evening.

"Better luck next time, ribbons?” you quipped with a smirk as you stuck your hand out for the winger to shake.

"Fuck you, Y/l/n," the brunette growled but didn’t make an effort to remove her hand from yours.

Before you could process your thoughts, you were replying with something you wouldn't have thought. "Would that finally get rid of your fucking attitude?" you questioned, the grip you still had on Hayley's hand tightening.

Neither of you spoke, but both of your breathing was heavy. Not because you had just played an aggressive ninety-plus minutes of football, but because you seemingly just crossed into new territory.

You didn't get the chance to say anything else before Hayley's teammates pulled her away. Her hand left a burning sensation in your own as she pulled it away. You stood in the same spot for a moment before shaking your head to collect your thoughts.

You did your normal routine of greeting the fans and signing a few things before retreating to the locker room. Your teammates were loudly celebrating yet another win over Real Madrid. You tuned them out as you sat in your cubby, your thoughts racing of a certain Australian winger.

You quickly gathered your things to take a shower, hoping none of your teammates would question your sudden mood change. As you stood under the flowing water with your eyes closed, different images of the Australian flashed in your mind. The simple thought of her head thrown back as she moaned your name, begging you to touch her had you breathing faster. Seemingly with a mind of its own, one of your hands traced down your body as a familiar feeling grew within you. You were pulled from your thoughts just as your hand reached between your legs as some of your teammates entered the shower area. You shook your head to refocus on showering, not wanting to be in there for too long.

As you gathered your things and made your way out of the locker room, you opened the door to face the same person who had clouded your thoughts all day. Both of you froze as you stared at each other, unsure of what to do or say.

The decision was made for you when you were forced to move out of the way when Patri and Pina tried to exit the locker room. Patri grabbed you by the shoulder, pulling you with her towards the bus while talking excitedly about the game. You tried your best to focus on what she was saying as you turned your head back to look at the Australian.

When you arrived back at the hotel, you headed straight for your room. You were glad that Marta, your roommate, had told you she was going to spend time with Caro in her room. With the room to yourself, you allowed your thoughts to race for the first time today.

As you lay on the hotel bed in an intense staring contest with the ceiling, your phone buzzed on the nightstand next to you. You groaned as you rolled to your side to see what the notification was. Your eyebrows furrowed as you saw a notification from Instagram. Your confusion turned to shock as you saw Hayley's name on your screen.

hayleyraso: my place then?

yourinstagram: whats the address?

Sneaking out of the team hotel was not something you planned but as you walked to the elevator, you felt a different form of excitement fill your body. The Uber to the Australian's apartment was quiet but your mind was not. The images from the shower once again replay in your mind but now that they could possibly become reality, you didn't try to get rid of them.

You quickly thanked the Uber driver before exiting the car that stopped in front of an apartment building. You took a deep breath before heading inside and straight for the elevator. You felt your hands grow sweaty as you continued up floors. You took your time walking to her door, mentally preparing yourself for whatever was about to happen.

You knocked softly on the door, not wanting to be disrespectful to her neighbors who were mostly likely asleep at this time. You waited for almost a minute and a half before you could hear the door in front of you unlock and be jerked open.

"Took you long enough," you huffed, your usual annoyance with the brunette making its return the moment you were in her presence again.

"Do you ever stop running your mouth," Hayley snapped, sharing your annoyance.

"Only when it's preoccupied with other things," you smirked at the winger, confidence taking over. Hayley rolled her eyes at your words but you didn't miss the light blush that coated her face.

Hayley's hand wrapped around the hem of your shirt, pulling through the threshold of her Madrid apartment. When you were through the door, it was closed loudly and your back was flushed against it. You bent your neck slightly as Hayley tilted her head up and your lips met for the first time.

You fought each other for dominance, moaning in between kisses. Each kiss was heavy and deeper than the last. You lightly nipped at her bottom lip in between kisses which resulted in Hayley moaning louder.

You pushed off the door to head towards her bedroom for a more comfortable experience. Your hands rested on her waist as hers wrapped around your neck. You pulled away slightly to whisper "jump" against her lips, signaling her to wrap her legs around your waist. Hayley for once listened without some snarky remark and her legs were around your waist as soon as the words left your mouth. you moved your hands from her waist to hold her thighs as you navigated her apartment. It was a one bedroom apartment in the Spanish capital so you had no problem finding it despite being preoccupied.

You found the bed almost immediately after entering Hayley's bedroom, laying the winger down as her legs remained around your waist. You propped your hands on either side of her head, Hayley held your face close in a deep kiss. Your body was almost flush with hers, but it was too little contact for the Aussie.

Your lips moved against each other in a battle, both trying to dominate the other. From under you, Hayley's hips moved against yours in an attempt to get some form of release. You smirked into the kiss, finding her desperation amusing but hot.

"Desperate much, ribbons," you mumbled against her lips, pulling back with a small nip to her bottom lip.

Hayley rolled her eyes at your words but the fact that her hips had yet to stop their light grinding proved she wasn't annoyed. Instead of responding, the winger opted to move her hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head in one swoop. You moved one of your hands to lift her shirt off her body, the Aussie’s back arching to help the shirt come off easier.

With her shirt thrown to the floor with yours, your lips were back on her body, but this time on her neck. You left heated kisses and bites along her neck and collarbone, dark marks starting to form on her skin. One of Hayley’s hands came to rest on the back of your head, her fingers tangling in your hair as a way to keep your lips on her.

You switched to the other side of her neck to give it the same attention while one of your hands slid to the aussie’s back to unhook her bra. You pulled the material from her body, tossing it aimlessly to the floor. With the item out of your way, to moved your lips down her body with light kisses and nips as you went. When you reached the center of her chest, you moved your head slightly to take one of her nipples into your mouth.

A loud moan fell from the Australian's mouth, her hand that was in your hair pushed you closer to her body, keeping you as close as possible. You took your time sucking the hardened bud in your mouth before you pulled away with a small “pop.” You placed a quick kiss in between her breasts before giving the other hardened nipple the same attention.

The rocking of Hayley’s hips had sped up because of your actions, loud moans continually fell from her mouth as she tried to gain some traction where she needed you most. The hand in your hair pulled slighting, pulling you away from her chest into a burning kiss. In between kisses, one of your hands pulled at the drawstrings of the sweatpants the winger was wearing before you started pushing them down her legs. Hayley unwrapped her legs from your body so you could push the sweatpants to her ankles, she kicked them off without a care as to where they landed.

You pulled away from her mouth to quickly rid yourself of your own pants and you noticed she opted to wear nothing under the sweatpants. You tried to hold back a teasing comment but you loved seeing Hayley react to the things you said.

“Didn’t wanna waste any time, huh ribbons,” you taunted the Aussie, your annoyingly attractive smirk making its reappearance.

“Shut up,” Hayley groaned, though her groan turned into a moan when you leaned your head down to give one of her breasts a quick nip.

“Still have that attitude I see,” you said in a sarcastic tone but started moving your body down, trailing kisses down her body as you did so.

“Because you won’t shut up and fuck me,” Hayley’s words stunned you for a moment before you lightly scoffed at her words, You refocused your attention on where she desperately needed you most, your smugness returning when you saw just how wet she was already.

One of Hayley’s hands remained tangled in your hair while the other held her sheets tightly. You left light kisses on the inside of both her thighs as you moved her legs to rest over your shoulders. Hayley’s breathing had picked up in anticipation, waiting for you to finally give her some form of pleasure.

Your tongue licked up her dripping core, moaning as you tasted her for the first time. The vibrations of you moaning against her had her back arching and her hand pushing you closer. You didn’t hold back as you dove back in, your tongue working quickly and harshly. The grip on your hair tightened as Hayley's moans grew louder. You were thankful for how late it was, hoping that her neighbors were in a deep sleep and wouldn’t be able to hear her.

You moved your mouth up slightly to suck on her clit as your hands wrapped around her thighs. You sucked harshly on the hooded bud, pulling away with loud noises following. Hayley’s hips were once again rocking up for more pleasure, this grinding against your face looking for her release. You didn’t let up as you alternated between sucking on her clit and thrusting your tongue inside her.

Hayley’s legs squeezed around your shoulders as she felt a familiar feeling in her stomach. Between her legs, you could hear her broken moans and pleas of “faster,” “don’t stop,” and “more.” You sped up your movements, desperately wanting to bring her over the edge for the first time that night. The Aussie was moaning your name in what could almost be described as a chant and it drove you crazy that the thoughts you had earlier did become reality.

Hayley’s back arched off the bed and with her eyes tightly closed, she came hard against your mouth. You didn’t slow down, wanting to help her ride out her high but also because you couldn’t get enough of her.

How you two haven't got this far before, you weren't sure. But now that you’ve been with her and tasted her, you’d be damned if you two didn’t do this more often. Especially since it wasn’t a long journey between your two cities.

With her hand in your hair, Hayley pulled your hair to pull you away from her, too sensitive for you to continue your movements at the moment. She unwrapped her shaking legs from around your shoulders, allowing you to move up her body.

Your lips met hers in a deep kiss, both of you moaning at the taste of her on your lips. Before you could realize what was happening, Hayley had you lying on your back as she straddled your waist. Your head was thrown back as she left her own marks along your neck, not caring that you would have to hide them before returning to the hotel.

Hayley busied herself with stripping you of your underwear before repaying the favor. The winger’s skilled fingers not needing any prep before sliding into your soaked core. Your head was bent back against her pillows as she skillfully moved her fingers in and out of you. Hayley left even more marks on your hips and thighs while thrusting her fingers inside you.

“Hayley, please,” you croaked out, moans filling the rooms once more. Hayley nipped at your skin at your words as her fingers sped up, working on quickly bringing you over the edge.

Having been close just from pleasuring her, it didn’t take long for you to reach your first orgasm. You came around her fingers while she continued her thrusts. Hayley eventually slowed her fingers before pulling them out of you as you whined from the loss of contact.

You opened your eyes to meet hers just as she lifted her two fingers to her mouth to clean them. Hayley moaned at the taste and you moaned at the sight of her sucking your cum off her fingers. You sat up so you were level with the winger and pulled her into a kiss, though this one was more loving than any other kiss you had shared before.

You two spent the rest of the night pulling orgasm after orgasm from each other. The annoyance you held for each other disappeared with each one and it turned into something different and you were sure the two of you would continue to test this new boundary with each other. You weren’t sure if it would turn into anything romantic or simply stay at having sex but you weren’t complaining.

You were grateful the team opted to have a rest day in Madrid instead of traveling back to Barcelona the next morning. Otherwise, you would have had to explain why you weren't in the hotel which would have resulted in some form of punishment from the coaching staff and insufferable amounts of teasing from your teammates. You had woken up before Hayley and quickly rushed to get dressed. You left the apartment quickly while trying to order an Uber back to the hotel. When you were situated in the car, you opened Instagram to send the Australian a direct message:

yourinstagram: sorry I had to leave so quickly, had to get back to the hotel before anyone noticed. We should do this again sometime, I don’t think I got rid of your little attitude, ribbons.

#woso x reader #real madrid women x reader #auswnt x reader #matildas x reader #hayley raso x reader #hayley raso #woso smut

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kamotecue · 8 months

Note

Yeah with Alessia Russo x Reader, thank you so much I will wait no problem!!

It ended in a draw but Portugal almost scored what would meant history for the country and the USA wouldn't pass the group stage.

-🤞

her solace - alessia russo x reader

you pulled on your jersey, the match against the usa would start soon. it was the most nerve-wrecking round, as it would decide who would enter the round of 16. dolores, the team’s captain handed you the armband as you looked at her confused.

“you’ll wear it.” she said, as you gave her a short nod, accepting the armband before wearing it around your left bicep.

it seems like you’re captain for today. as it was time to leave the locker room, you took your place behind ines, the team’s number one goalkeeper. you looked beside you to see lindsey horan, the captain for the other team. she noticed your stare as she gave you a small smile. you gently grabbed the hand of your mascot, as both teams started walking out of the tunnel.

the anthems were sung with pride, as the excited part was near. you zipped down the trainer jacket, as you handed it to the kit man joining your teammates for the starting XI picture.

in the 16th minute, nazareth breaks down the middle of the pitch and plays a smart throughball to silva, who rushes behind the usa’s defense and towards the box. as she’s one-one-one with alyssa naeher, usa’s number one goal keeper, however the effort drags wide.

the first half has ended, with both teams not scoring a goal. you had this frustrated look in your eyes as you entered the tunnel, there were claps from the portuguese fans. you hoped for things to change, and it did, the odds were in your favor.

in the 79th minute, borges goes down in the us penalty box, after a pressuring tackle from julie ertz. there were calls for a penalty, and the penalty was rewarded.

you were tasked to take it, so you eyed the keeper and her movements. as the whistle blew, you did a short run up before kicking it, drilling it to the bottom left corner, but it was saved by the goal keeper as she dived.

it wasn’t out yet, you ran forward but it was cleared by emily fox, earning portugal a throw-in. even in the additional time, no one has been able to score. the whistle blew and it was over for you guys.

you fell to your knees, overwhelmed with emotion as dolores patted your back in a comforting way. you felt your tears fall, as you covered your face hiding it behind your arms.

“if only i didn’t miss the penalty.” you said

“we all make mistakes, little one. however we learn from it.” borges said, as she overheard your words. you spent the rest of the time greeting fans, and did a walk around the pitch before you headed back to the locker room.

there were comforting hugs by your teammates, as you headed to the shower room. when you were done, you walked out in a pair of shorts, followed by a white nike sport bra.

you wore your headphones, blocking out the noise as you closed your eyes. the trip to the hotel was short, as you were woken up by dolores who monitored you. she knew that you blamed yourself for the loss, it was a habit you had.

you quickly slumped on the hotel bed in disbelief, as your phone rang loudly, it was less.

“love?” alessia’s voice rang throughout the room, as you had put it on speaker. you didn’t have a roommate which you were thankful for, you didn’t want them to see the breakdown.

“i could’ve done better-“ tears fell, as you heard alessia’s voice.

“you were already a good player, love. you’ve done your best, you wore the jersey with pride as you already made history. don’t blame yourself, when you done all you could do.” you sniffled, as you looked at the camera to see alessia’s blue eyes, the one you have fallen in love with.

“there’s my pretty girl, you’ll bounce back alright. we’ve just started our careers, you’ll play in more world cups.” alessia continued, as you nodded.

“thank you, my stargirl.” as you gave her a soft smile, to which she returned.

“i’ll always be here.” alessia said, you both had spent the night talking about random talks, childhood experience, and it lasted until the morning. you both were asleep, and your phone had died.

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #engwnt x reader #lioness x reader

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clockwayswrites · 11 months

Text

A Broken Sort of Normal - Part 3

wc: 832 CW: Canon-Typical Violence, Self-Doubt Masterpost

Danny kept running into Flash— or rather Flashes. Sometimes it was the older Flash and sometimes it was the younger one (the ex-Kid Flash). One of them seriously needed to pick a different name. Danny has had to start making up names to tell them apart in his head and that’s just embarrassing. Not for him of course, he’s a genius, but for the Flashes who ended up as things like Westmead Lord, Ravage Again, and Secretariat for the older Flash and things like Earnhardt, Hamilton, and Bolt for the younger Flash. The older Flash really lost out, but the racing animal name had already been established with Seabiscuit.

It earned him a lot of looks. It also, apparently, made him memorable. He didn’t want to be memorable. He wanted to keep his head down, help people, and be left to live his life. He had accidentally traded everything to be normal to let him just be normal and boring.

Apparently the Flashes didn’t get the memo.

No, the Flashes started to rely on Danny to keep a cool head and be able to handle the hard situations. This meant that there was the tendency for Danny to finish up treating one person only to be picked up bridal style and whisked off to another person in need.

And if Danny sometimes used his powers to phase a limb through a heavy piece of rubble or temporarily to ice over a wound? Well, he was careful about being alone and only in the very worst cases. Those saves only raised his notoriety though.

At least he was really starting to find his feet with the Speed Force. Not literally— he got the feeling he was best being fully off of any surface but whatever Flash was carrying him— but when they whipped to a stop he was quick on his feet and hurrying off to help.

“Hey.”

Danny looked up from peeling off his gloves to find Hines!Flash in front of him. He was annoyingly full of energy, bouncing on the balls of his feet. (Danny was jealous.)

“Hey, is there someone else?” Danny rasped, voice sore from screaming out orders and instructions. He’d been made a unit lead just this week.

“Nope! I um, just I got you some cold water?” Flash said, wiggling the bottle.

“Well, aren’t you my hero,” Danny said, stuffing the gloves in the medical waste bag in his kit. He was glad he didn’t have to put on a fresh pair.

“It’s, um, I just thought—” Flash stumbled over the words.

And look at that, the guy was blushing— red from the top of his head to his shiny boots.

Danny laughed as he disinfected his hands. “I’m being serious, the water sounds amazing right now, thanks.”

“Oh! You’re welcome!” Flash said with a grin.

The water bottle was blessedly cold in Danny’s hand, and he took a moment to press it to his temple before he cracked open. Half the bottle was gone in one go. That tasted good after the day’s work. “I needed that, thanks.”

“I, yeah! Of course! Do you need another or…?” Flash said, still blushing bright red and bouncing on his toes.

“Nah, I better go check in with my team and the unit lead for clean up,” Danny said, hiking his thumb over his shoulder.

“Team? Are you unit lead now?” Flash asked. He really was like a perky puppy.

But it was nice to be asked, really nice. He had sent the news to Tucker and had gotten a thumbs up in response a day later. He didn’t even bother with Sam— she was off in some country saving some animal. He had last been able to get a hold of her in two years. Jazz— right, it was Jasmin now— Jasmin hadn’t even let him finish his news before she had to leave the call. He knew she was busy with grad-school and Lacey’s pregnancy, but still…

Danny shook the thoughts away and tried to put on a smile. “Yeah, just a few days ago!”

“That’s amazing, dude! Congrats!”

That sounded really sincere. His smile got much more real. “Thanks. It’s a big step for sure, but I’m really proud. But... I’ve got to go finish that all up.”

“Oh, sure! Um, see you next attack?” Flash almost actually paused for a moment. “Wow, okay, yeah even I know that sounds awful, it’s not like I want there to be a next attack! Just, you know, it’s your job and my not job job.”

Danny felt a little bad, but couldn’t help but laugh at that. He secured his kit on shoulder, giving a little wave. “Yeah, I get you. Stay safe Verstappen!”

He could hear Flash repeat ‘Verstappen’ as he headed off in a light jog. So maybe he had looked up famous racers just to have more names, sue him. He now knew about the wide world of formula one racing— mostly against his will. That sport was a soap opera.

-----

AN: Full disclosure I know nothing about horse racing, nascar, or formula 1, but two friends have gotten into F1 and it really does just sound like a soap opera from this side!

I think I'm starting to find Wally's voice? Maybe?

Since I don't tag anymore, because of the new post editor/being shadow banned, you can instead be notified in the same way by subscribing here:

#poking at this a few hundred words at a time #It's still a one shot if I don't split it up into chapters *finger guns*#dp x dc #danny fenton x wally west #Danny Fenton/Wally West #abson #quick death

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wikitpowers · 22 days

Text

KIT: i'm madly in love with ty ALSO KIT: let me just run away to a different country after not communicating properly TY: i'm madly in love with kit ALSO TY: let me assume he hates me because he left without saying goodbye and not contact him

#sounds like [2] stoopid fools to me #JUST TALK #LITERALLY SPEAK #OPEN YOUR MOUTHS AND WORDS WILL COME OUT #pls can they just reunite and make up #i need them HAPPY and not suffering #pls and thank u #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #kit x ty #kitty #the dark artifices #the wicked powers #tda #twp #tsc

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psyphigirl · 5 months

Text

"May I See Her?"

TW: Immobility, Health Play, Hospital Setting, "Asphyxiation"

A person is admitted to the most advanced bariatric health center, where they must be subjected to constant and intense mechanical medical care

(I'm not sure the tw list is entirely exhaustive as I don't know how to define some of the things I wrote about. Please feel free to give any suggestions you feel I need to include!)

The doctor looked at me as though I had two heads, he just didn't understand the question.

"I- I don't know. There ... there isn't a lot left to see. You didn't really ... leave us with a lot ..."

I had weird mixed feelings about how he said that. Shame, guilt, fear ... pride, wonder, lust. What could they possibly have done to her?

"You can come in about 11.00 on Thursday morning, if you really do want to see her", he said flatly

"Thank you, Doctor. I'll be in then."

I hang up and sit back on my bed. I should really be getting to bed soon but I can't bear the thought of going to sleep just yet, so I go in to her old room. Just to remember her.

The room looks so much smaller without her in it. For the first time in years I can actually stand anywhere I want without fear of standing on her flesh or on a cable or tube she needs to function. The room's been stripped almost bare from the kit I used to tend to her. The oxygen pump is gone, the feeding tube has been retired, even the fridges have been wheeled away. I can see an almost perfect outline of her rear on the wall behind her, painted with sweat into the wallpaper. Her mattress is still here, it's been crushed to about a quarter of it's normal height after years of propping up a mass measured in metric tons.

I'm almost glad to see her in a proper care center: All this tech is ancient. Held together with tape and staples. It's a wonder it failed as infrequently as it did...

That's enough remembering for tonight

...

Beep beep beep

That's the alarm. Seven o'clock. Get up, get dressed, go to the kitchen. What's in the fridge? Not a lot. A dozen eggs and half a loaf of toast should be fine. I can fit two slices per slot in the four slot toaster and have them done in two minutes. I can fit three eggs in a pan per two pans. It takes five minutes to cook them and have them done in ten minutes. Hopefully I can have this done before she wakes up-

Oh.

I turn the stovetop off and unplug the toaster. For the first time in years I don't have to center my daily schedule around caring for my helpless other half. It takes about an hour to get to the hospital. So I have three hours to kill ... somehow

...

"Oh, it's you. It- She's right this way"

The doctor lead me down a corridor, with a sign above it reading "ICU". Is it that bad? It must be. I was lead all the way down to the end of the corridor. The very last door in the ICU of the most advanced bariatric care center the fattest country in the world has to offer. I really did a number on her.

"Now. I should warn you. She's very ... fragile. You just need to be careful. Do you understand?"

"Yes, doctor, I think so"

His mouth jerks to the side and he turns away from me. I could have sworn I heard him say "I'm sure"

He opens the door and I see her.

She's nothing more than a mound of flesh, decorated by a spidersweb of wires and tubes, moniters and dials.

"Jeez, doc. Is this all really necessary?"

He looks at me with a subtle and frightening rage, "Yes. If even one of these machines failed, or one of these cables disconnected," he looks almost disappointed, "She wouldn't last long."

I don't respond. All I can do is gawk at her.

"This one here, for example", He gestures to a machine containing a series of combustion pistons, "That's her heart. There's no way her actual heart can pump blood around the rest of her body without assistance."

He points to another one, a pair of pumps under a turbine, "Those are her lungs."

And another, "That's her liver. There's no machine in here that isn't essential to her continued survival. Her body just doesn't work anymore. Technically ... she ... isn't that person in the center of this room anymore. She's ..." He struggles to find his words for a minute, "She's pretty much the room itself"

I take a minute to comprehend what that means. I'm inside her. Staring at her bare soul

"Doctor," I inquire, "Could I be left alone with her for a little while?"

He looks right through me and approaches, "Her diet is automated. Don't think you can do any more damage"

He leaves heavyfooted and disgusted at what I did to her. I almost don't blame him

"Hi dear. Can you hear? It's me."

I wait. I get no response.

"I know you may resent, or even fear me. But you're safe now, love. I can do you no harm. Now that I say it out loud I'm even sure that's entirely true. If that's your lungs, then that tube must be intake. So which tube feeds you the oxygen? This one here? Next to my boot?"

Her heart beats visibly faster.

"That's a yes. What happens if I ..."

I lightly squish the thick clear plastic tube with my heel. The rhythm of the machinery is changed, tarnished even.

Her heart beats visibly faster again.

"I like that response. See it could be fear, couldn't it ..."

I press a little deeper

"Your mouth feels dry. Your temples feel tight. Your lungs, your real ones I mean, are burning. It hurts and you're afraid."

I press a little deeper

"Or maybe. Just maybe ..."

I connect my heel all the way to the floor

"It's lust?"

#extreme feedism #extreme feedee #extreme feeder #healthplay #immobility #death feedee #death feeder #robot girl #berrywrites

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epigstolary · 5 months

Text

The Middle of Nowhere, Part Two

I once said that my feeder didn’t have to do anything to keep me on his farm. That I was building my own prison there, bite by bite. And that’s still true — but only partly true. The farm may be a long way away from anything — town, other people, even the road that’s our only real connection to society — and it may as well be a desert island for someone too big to drive a car or walk further than the yard, but it isn’t my prison. Because my prison isn’t a place.

Things started to change when it got difficult even to go outside to our porch. I don’t mean they changed with my feeder; he was still as caring and doting as ever. He started bringing me my snacks once I got big enough that just shuffling out the front door took all my energy and attention. I had to watch where I placed every step of my bloated legs, laden with fat that looked like bags of cottage cheese, and hold on to the walls and the railing along the porch to keep my belly and chest fat from sloshing sideways and pulling me over. Even those few steps left me breathless and my heart pounding by the time I got settled on my bench; but it was worth it to have a plate of his biscuits and gravy or chicken and dumplings, under that big sky beyond our little farm, gilded with another sunset. And even when my bench finally gave way after one too many helpings of both, he dusted off his woodworking kit and put it back together, reinforced and better than new.

But by then, we both knew it was only a temporary fix. It wouldn’t be long before there’d be no way I could maneuver myself out there every day, and he could tell how being cooped up inside would drive me crazy after a while. If I was going to do anything other than sit mostly alone on the couch all day, we were going to have to find another way.

His first innovation was to invite people over for dinner — farmhands, friends, folks he knew from town that he could get to come to me even if I couldn’t go to them. And they were good company, in a lot of ways; they’d bring a taste of the outside world with them. They might talk about how the crops were doing, recount some recent anecdote from working out in the fields or going into town, opine on some petty local politics or gossip. And it was nice to hear about something other than what was going on within the confines of our little farm — an outside world that it was increasingly impossible for me to get to. But really, it was hard for the focus not to turn around to me. Nobody was ever rude the first time they met me; but it was rare not to see either a reaction of stifled surprise, or else a glassy look of unseeing, a conscious attempt not to notice the half-ton of fat flowing and bulging out of my ill-fitting clothes.

It didn’t help that, with me never leaving the farm, there weren’t many topics of conversation other than myself and food that our guests could engage with me about. When the conversation didn’t turn to recent meals or my favorite foods, which usually elicited at least warm agreement about the country staples forming much of my diet, it turned to how I spent most of my day. We’d do our usual face-saving song and dance about what I did to take care of the house while my partner was out working in the field — all of it lies, and increasingly transparent lies as my limited ability to even move became more obvious at higher weights — and how I was getting ready to start losing some weight. I’d talk about how I really wanted to get healthier, get out and about more often; and they’d smile and nod, giving tepid approval and encouragement.

The thing is, I really did mean it. I really did want to get down to a size where I could at least walk around outside again, maybe even drive a car into town and go to the little greasy spoon like I used to. It was becoming discouraging to have every step, every reach, every movement blocked or restrained by the fat smothering every inch of my body. But our guests knew full well I didn’t have a prayer of keeping to a diet or an exercise routine. It was even more obvious to those who’d visited before, and who saw me even more bloated, even more out of shape than the last time they were there.

The actual meals certainly made them think that, if they hadn’t before. My partner would serve a spread fit for a dozen people — something like a barbecue buffet, a whole turkey with all the fixings, a tray of lasagna — and I’d end up eating everything that was left after the others had their fill. Long after their places had been cleared away, I’d still be gobbling up the heaping plates my partner would keep bringing me until every scrap of food was gone. Since I couldn’t last very long at the dining table anymore, usually we’d sit around the living room, and they would basically watch me gorge myself — tits and chins wobbling as I’d chew, plate sitting on my enormous belly so my blubbery arms could rest on the sweep of my side rolls while I cut and speared each bite. It was obvious to everyone, I guess even to me, that I was never going to drop a pound if I couldn’t resist completely abandoning myself to food like that. By the end of the meal, I’d be stuffed full, taking up the entire couch and looking enormous, almost too drowsy from overeating to notice the expressions passing between our guests, their looks of amusement or disgust or astonishment at what was apparently a typical dinner for me. Sometimes they’d even whisper about it, thinking I was asleep. I wasn’t.

From the front window of the house, I could watch them drive away, taillights receding toward that distant road where proper civilization began again. Probably recapping the dinner and my obscene size and appetite with horrified amazement. They’d been merely passing through, tourists in my isolated bubble, visiting their friend’s or boss’s blob of a partner out of courtesy but with no real desire to bring me into the fold. They could make things more tolerable, but they’d never be any real help in connecting with the world again.

Then one day, my partner’s beat-up old pickup disappeared, and he pulled into the yard in a gleaming new one, looking unusually excited for him and expectantly at me. I was puzzled — by that point, I was already too big to heave myself up into the cab of any pickup. But then I saw the truck bed — more specifically, the crane and winch rising from the front corner. My stomach did a somersault at the sight of him rigging up a harness meant for lifting cows and pigs into the bed; it was a way to let me get off the farm, sure, but at a pretty steep price in dignity. It was as good as an admission that I’d eaten myself far too fat to rejoin the world like a normal person, probably for good.

But the temptation to be somewhere else, anywhere else, was too much. A day or two later, my partner was helping me waddle out the front door and down the steps toward the driveway. Months indoors had obscured just how much my body had changed in even that short amount of time. My legs had both bloated considerably and weakened since my last walk through the yard, making every step like having to lift heavy bags of molasses just to advance a few inches at a time. My belly hung lower and broader than I remembered, physically holding back my steps and making it harder to twist my upper body to steady my walk. My side rolls and bicep blubber fought one another for space, pushing my arms up and sending fat bunching around my neck and shoulders. I was an out-of-breath mess by the time I maneuvered myself around and collapsed into the harness.

The sensation of my weight being lifted slowly off the ground, suspended and moved by an object completely out of my control, sent a surreal thrill through me. My hundreds of pounds, cradled in the harness, wobbled and jiggled with its slow movements, and for the most part I had no choice but to be carried along with my body’s jostling inertia. Even more than usual, I was buried under my immense belly and tits, my bloated legs were lifted level with the rest of my body, and my flab-laden arms — if they’d even been strong enough to do anything — had nowhere to grasp to help stabilize my sloshing bulk. The crane and winch cracked and creaked as it labored to move my weight, lifted me over the sides and into position facing the tailgate, and lowered me onto some foam padding my partner had arranged into a kind of makeshift couch against the rear window. I didn’t fill the truck bed — but there wasn’t room to sit next to me, either.

I’ve never felt a mixture of emotions like I did on that first drive back into town. On the one hand, it felt so amazingly free — finding myself on that once impossibly-distant road, our farm receding into the distance as fields and hills sped by. Fresh air, and the wind in my hair. But then, as buildings grew closer together and we started rolling into downtown, my blood ran cold — I’m a half-ton blob taking up most of the back of a pickup truck, too fat to walk or move, coming to town like a circus attraction, I thought. People were going to react.

I’m sure a lot of it was in my mind. I’m sure I was self-conscious, reading intent into every glance and word and gesture, most of the time when it wasn’t there. But it felt like every last person in the town had turned out to stare at my huge form being paraded down main street. Me looking out over the expanse of lard occupying the truck bed and smothering my body. Blubber sloshing uncontrollably every time we turned a corner. Kids pointing at the enormous fatty passing by, their shouts being stifled by nervous and disgusted parents. Skinny people casting sideways glances at the pickup, stopped at a stoplight, as they muttered to each other amid broad grins.

And that was when I realized. It didn’t matter where I was — on the farm, in town, on stage with a million people watching. I had let myself get fattened past the point where I could exist in this world and connect with it ever again. Even when I was right in the middle of it, I was as far removed from these people as if I’d still been back on the farm. I’m never going to be walking around with them, shopping with them, just existing in the spaces they exist in. I literally don’t fit in, even if I could haul around all the blubber I’ve accumulated under my own power. And I’m just as alien to them — someone five times their weight, who can’t control their appetite any better than to get this big, someone they can deride or pity or judge with impunity.

On the drive back to the farm, under a starry indigo sky and with a backseat full of fast food from the town’s only chain, I had to wonder about my feeder. Whether he really was trying to get me out of the house. Or did he know? Had he already figured out that I was too big for it to matter where I was — that the thick rolls dominating my body and the sacks of fat hanging off my limbs would keep me his, even if I’d tried to get someone to help me leave? That this drive would do nothing more than to show me a world, a life, that my fat — his fat — would never let me go back to?

The thought lodged in the back of my mind as he gently helped hoist me, every inch wobbling and quivering, out of the truck bed. He led my bulk, step by exhausted step, back inside and to my usual divot on the couch. And as he got me comfortable, spreading the buffet of greasy, fatty food out before me, and as I bit into the first of ten thick double cheeseburgers, his too-kind smile and his gaze that lingered on my bulging gut for an instant too long told me everything I needed to know.

The farm isn’t my prison. My body is.

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