word count - 2.6k trigger warnings - smut minors DNI, gay panic, athletic tape You've just been subbed off in the game against Sweden, when you spot Lucy wrapping her thigh with tape, and suddenly your gay panic is louder than the stadium crowd.
It started with a big screen.
You'd only just sat down on the bench, water bottle in hand, heart still pounding from your shift on the pitch. The quarterfinals against Sweden had been brutal, your legs ached, your chest was still heaving, but nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared you for what you saw on the pitch.
Lucy Bronze.
By the goalpost.
Strapping her own thigh.
The physio was off patching up Hannah Hampton's bleeding nose after a collision, leaving Lucy to fend for herself. She was lying down, one leg bent up allowing access to her thighs, tape gripped between her hands as she wrapped it tightly around her upper thigh. Deliberate. Focused. Toned muscle flexing with every pull.
You took a sip of your drink. A big one. Then, right on cue, the cameraman gave the nation (and every lesbian watching) the gift of a lifetime: a slow, indulgent zoom straight onto Lucy. Or more specifically, her taped, glistening thigh. You choked violently mid-sip, coughing so hard you nearly sprayed water over the bench.
"Jesus Christ," you wheezed, coughing into your sleeve.
Lauren Hemp smacked your back, snorting. "You alright there? Swallowed it wrong?"
You nodded frantically, trying to hide the pink blooming across your cheeks. Your eyes flickered back to the pitch.
Lucy was still going, oblivious to the havoc she was causing. She shifted slightly, muscles rippling under her taped thigh, and you squeezed your legs together on instinct trying to cause any type of friction.
Then Leah leaned in beside you, the devil herself in disguise.
"Why don't you take a picture?" she whispered, voice wicked and far too smug. "It'll last longer."
You glared at her, but she just grinned, turning back to the match like she hadn't just outed you with a single sentence. No one else knew. Just Leah. And now she was having the time of her life watching you try not to spontaneously combust on the bench.
The game wore on. England won.
The moment the final penalty was missed, you shot off the bench like everyone else, arms flung around Lauren as you both ran screaming onto the pitch trying to find Niamh, the last member of your little group. Euphoria buzzed through every nerve ending, the rush of victory pumping adrenaline through your system.
Until, of course, you saw her again.
Lucy. Water bottle in hand, pouring it slowly over her head. Her shirt clung to her abs, drenched. Her hair slicked back, mouth parted slightly as she caught her breath. She looked like she'd stepped out of a goddamn commercial.
And you. You were still malfunctioning.
You stopped running, just for a second, brain going blank. Heat rushed down your spine. Your thighs squeezed together on instinct.
"You good?" Niamh asked, laughing breathlessly as she walked towards you both.
"Yeah," you managed. "Fine. Great. Just… water. Victory. Everything."
You powered through, trying desperately to forget the way Lucy's sports bra had clung to her like a second skin.
Later, on the coach back to the hotel, you collapsed into your seat next to Lauren Hemp, heart still racing and body aching in the best way. Around you, the team buzzed with energy, singing loudly, laughter echoing through the bus. You tried your best to act like you weren't completely losing your mind.
Then Lucy walked down the aisle.
She was freshly showered, damp curls pulled into a loose bun, hoodie hanging off one shoulder, and that same smug composure she always had after a win. As she passed, her fingers brushed your thigh lightly (so quick you could've convinced yourself you'd imagined it) and something soft fluttered into your lap.
A folded note.
You froze. Lauren was too busy swiping through different Lego sets to notice. You kept your hands steady as you slipped the note under your hoodie and unfolded it with practiced ease.
Caught you looking.
Your throat closed up, heat crawling up your neck. You bit down on a noise that was definitely not a yelp and looked up sharply, scanning the seats. Lucy was already settled two rows ahead, earphones in, head resting on the window. She didn’t even glance back.
Like she hadn’t just set your entire body on fire with two words and a smirk. You could feel how wet you were getting, and it was maddening. You tried to focus on the scenery outside the window, but all you could think about was her.
You had just gotten into bed, hair still damp from a cold shower, when your phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Lucy: You awake?
You stared at the message for a moment before replying.
You: Barely. Why?
The typing bubble popped up, disappeared, popped up again.
Lucy: Come open your door.
You blinked, then scrambled up, heart skipping.
When you opened the door, Lucy stood there in her england issued hoodie and shorts, a grin on her face and two water bottles in her hands.
"Peace offering," she said, holding one out. "For making you short circuit earlier."
You stepped aside automatically, brain short circuiting, words catching in your throat. "H...how? What, why? How are you here?"
She brushed past you into the room, casual and smug, like she belonged there.
"The water bottle's to make up for you choking on the last one," she said with a grin.
You froze. "Wait. How do you know about that?"
Lucy didn’t answer, just raised an eyebrow.
"Oh my god," you muttered. "Leah. It was Leah, wasn't it? She told you. Unbelievable. She's dead to me. She’s so…"
You turned to grab your phone, probably to send Leah a series of unhinged threats, but before you could even unlock it, Lucy was in front of you kissing you. Firm. Certain. No warning and it shut you up instantly. Your fingers twitched against your phone. Your brain? Empty.
When she finally pulled back, Lucy was still grinning, but softer now. "You talk too much."
You blinked up at her, dazed. "You kiss too well."
She took the phone out of your hand and tossed it gently onto the bed. "Now that that's done," she said, leaning in with a glint in her eye, "what do you say we move on to the part where I do you?"
You snorted, laughing. "That might be the corniest shit I’ve ever heard."
Lucy shrugged, utterly unbothered. "You didn’t say no."
Before you could say anything else, Lucy kissed you again.
Harder this time. Filthier. Her hands roamed with purpose, sliding down your sides until they found your ass and gripped tight. You gasped into her mouth just as she hoisted you up like you weighed nothing - as if she hadn’t just played a full match, plus extra time. Your legs wrapped around her waist instinctively, clinging to her like she was the only solid thing in the world.
She carried you to the bed and threw you onto it with casual force, watching you bounce slightly on impact as she stood over you, breath shallow and eyes dark. You propped yourself up on your elbows, gaze locked on her as she slowly peeled off her clothes; first the hoodie, then the tank top, each movement deliberate. Her shorts slid down her legs, followed by her underwear, and by the time she was completely bare in front of you, your brain had short circuited for what felt like the hundredth time that day.
She said something (a question, maybe) but you didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Words had left the building. Lucy tilted her head and smirked at the empty, stunned look on your face. "Like what you see, huh?"
You could only nod, dumbly and she was absolutely loving it.
Lucy’s smirk deepened as she climbed onto the bed, crawling up your body with a deliberate slowness that made every nerve in you buzz. Her hands were everywhere (thighs, waist, ribs) tracing the shape of you like she was memorizing it.
“You gonna just stare all night,” she murmured, voice low and husky, “or are you gonna do something about it?”
You reached up and tangled your fingers in her damp curls, pulling her down into another kiss, this one messier, hungrier. She groaned softly against your lips, shifting her hips against yours.
Her hands were hot against your skin, her mouth hungrier with every kiss. You arched into her, desperate for more contact, more friction, more everything. Lucy’s lips trailed kisses along your throat, teeth grazing your collarbone. Each touch sent shivers racing through you.
“Lucy,” you breathed, fingers digging into her shoulders as she shifted lower, her tongue tracing a path between your breasts.
Her hands slid beneath you, pulling off your top in one fluid motion. The cool air hit your skin but you barely noticed; her mouth was already on your stomach, nipping at the soft flesh there. Her hands found the waistband of your shorts and she tugged them down impatiently, leaving you bare before her.
“Fuck,” Lucy muttered under her breath as her eyes raked over you. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, then another higher up. You squirmed, gasping as her breath ghosted over your clit. “Stay still,” she commanded, her voice low and rough.
You tried to obey but it was impossible when her tongue finally dipped inside you. You cried out, hips jerking instinctively toward her mouth. Lucy gripped your thighs, holding them apart firmly.
Her tongue explored every inch of you (circling your clit) until pleasure coiled tight in your belly like a spring ready to snap. Lucy moaned against you, the vibration making stars burst behind your eyelids.
“Right there” you whimpered helplessly when she sucked hard on just the right spot. Your body tensed as those familiar waves began crashing over you; sharp pulses of ecstasy radiating from where Lucy’s mouth worked tirelessly against you.
Your back arched off the bed, a cry tearing from your throat as the pressure broke. A rush of heat surged through you, and then you felt it, a wave of release so intense it left you breathless. You shuddered uncontrollably, your hips jerking as pleasure exploded in sharp, liquid pulses. Lucy moaned against you, her tongue lapping eagerly as you trembled beneath her.
“Oh god,” you whimpered, your voice shaking almost as much as your body. Lucy didn’t stop, her fingers still moving inside you, gently encouraging the last waves of ecstasy from your spent body. When she finally pulled away, her chin was glistening and she wore that stupid stupid trademarked smirk on her face.
You were still catching your breath, skin flushed and limbs loose, when Lucy slid off the bed. You watched her move across the room, bare and unbothered, like she hadn’t just completely wrecked you.
She crouched beside a backpack you hadn’t even noticed her bring into your room. Typical Lucy - always sneaky, always a step ahead. You figured she might pull out a pair of pyjamas for her to spend the night.
Instead, she pulled out something entirely different.
Your brain short circuited. “Wait, is that…”
Lucy just looked over her shoulder with a cocky little smirk. “I always come prepared.”
You sat up, eyes wide, mouth suddenly dry. “You brought that here?”
She shrugged, fastening it on with practiced ease, her voice casual but smug. “Do I hear you complaining?”
Your brain couldn’t decide whether to be scandalized or even more turned on (probably both) but your body already knew the answer.
Lucy straightened, turning toward you fully now, eyes dark. “Still speechless?”
You swallowed hard, nodding hesitantly.
She grinned. “Good girl, now lay back.”
Lucy’s hips moved with a fluid, unhurried rhythm. Each measured thrust coaxing your body open without the sharpness of before. Her free hand drifted down your side, fingertips tracing idle patterns on your sweat-damp skin before settling on your hipbone, thumb pressing in just enough to make you gasp.
“Better like this?” she murmured, her lips brushing the shell of your ear.
The words weren’t teasing (just warm, curious). The toy inside you shifted, filling you deep before retreating slowly. You shuddered, and Lucy’s grip tightened, not with restraint but reassurance.
“I’ve got you,” she promised, bending to kiss the tense line of your shoulder.
Your breath hitched slightly as she pressed in again, deeper this time, her body molding against your back. The harness’s base rubbed firm against your clit, but the pressure wasn’t relentless anymore, just steady and deliberate letting the pleasure build instead of forcing it. Her palm slid down your stomach, fingers splaying possessively over your lower belly like she could feel every inch of the toy inside you.
“So good,” she breathed. “Taking me like this.”
A moan slipped from your lips, and Lucy answered with a low hum, her hips rolling in a slow, undulating grind. No urgency, no demand just the slow, sweet drag of her moving in you, her body a solid weight against your back, her mouth tracing lazy kisses along your spine. When your thighs began to tremble, she didn’t speed up. Just leaned closer, her voice a husky whisper against your skin.
“Let go when you’re ready” she murmured, words dripping with quiet promise.
Around 5 minutes later and Lucy had collapsed to the empty space next to you but not before shifting slightly, brushing a few strands of damp hair away from your face. Her touch was surprisingly gentle (especially after everything) and she looked at you with that warm, post win gleam in her eyes.
“You alright?” she murmured, voice low, a little smug but laced with something softer underneath. “How’re you feeling?”
You tried to speak (tried to form any kind of coherent thought) but your lips parted and nothing came out. Your brain was still fogged, your body boneless, wrecked in the best possible way.
Lucy sat back on her heels, breathing steady, flushed with satisfaction as she looked you over. Her grin grew when she saw the dazed, wordless expression on your face.
“No comeback?” she teased, tilting her head, eyes glinting. “That good huh?”
Still nothing. Just the rise and fall of your chest and the helpless, wide eyed stare you gave her.
Lucy chuckled, smug and triumphant. “God, I’m good.”
She leaned over you, brushing a kiss over your temple and you groaned softly, covering your face with one hand, and Lucy just laughed harder.
“Admit it,” she whispered smugly, pressing close to your ear. “You’ll never look at athletic tape the same way again.”
Later, when everything had quieted down and the only sound was the soft rustle of sheets and your shared breathing, you lay curled against her, skin warm and limbs tangled. Your chest rose and fell in sync with hers, the adrenaline slowly bleeding out of your system.
Then, out of nowhere, Lucy started giggling.
At first, it was soft, a quiet shake of her shoulders and a muffled snort against your neck. But it grew, bubbling up into full blown laughter that made her body shake beside you.
You turned your head to look at her, eyebrows drawn. "What? What is it?"
She tried to speak, failed, and kept laughing. When she finally caught her breath, she managed to get out, between breathless giggles, "It... it took me strapping my leg up just to end up strapping you up."
You groaned and shoved her playfully. "That is so bad. You’re disgusting."
She doubled over with laughter. "You’re laughing too!"
You tried to hold it in, but a quiet snort slipped out. "I hate that I am."
Lucy grinned wide, absolutely triumphant, and flopped dramatically onto her back. "Worth it."
You rolled your eyes, biting your lip to keep from grinning harder. But inside, you were already lost to her all over again.
