blue trouble | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson
-> based on this request💙
grumpy masterlist
the team meeting had already stretched twenty minutes past its scheduled end, and alessia could feel her focus slipping, her eyes starting to feel heavy as the dark room got heavier and the bright screen seemingly got brighter.
sarina was talking tactics, but her mind kept drifting to you, your whirlwind energy currently under the dubious supervision of niamh charles and aggie beever-jones.
alessia had left you and the two chelsea players in the lounge fully equipped with snacks, crayons, and what alessia had thought were simple instructions: no sugar, no chaos, and please no teaching you any new chants that would be used to wake her up on her days off.
leah caught alessia fidgeting from across the table, giving her that soft, knowing smile. "she'll be fine, less. it's aggie and niamh, their both sensible not the bloody joker and harley quinn."
alessia raised an eyebrow going her girlfriend a pointed look. "you've clearly never seen them together for longer than ten minutes."
leah chuckled quietly, reaching over to squeeze alessia's hand beneath the table. "they adore her. what is the worst that could happen?"
the answer to leah's question arrived an hour later.
as soon as alessia stepped out of the meeting room, the sound of your little laughter was echoing down the hallway. the sharp, melodic giggle that made everyone nearby grin instinctively. relief started to flood alessia for a second.. until she saw you.
you were running to your mummy, arms open, your little curls bouncing as your cheeks were flushed with delight and now dressed head to toe in blue and not the light pink tracksuit alessia had dressed you in this morning.
"mummy, look!" you squealed, sliding slightly to stop yourself as you twirled in the slightly oversized shirt. "aggie and niamh got me a new blue football kit!"
alessia blinked. once, then again, twice. then her eyes dropped to the small crest on the chest of the shirt.
the unmistakable lion and badge. it wasn't just any blue. it was chelsea blue.
"oh my god-" her voice came out as a whisper. "you didn't" alessia turned slowly, eyes wide to where niamh and aggie both stood clearly trying and failing not to burst out laughing.
"we was playing dress up, she wanted to be the blue team" niamh said quickly, hands up in mock surrender.
as aggie chimed in, "we've been in need for a little mascot, and niamh's had this kit for ages, so we just.."
"you just what, took advantage of the fact the she can't read properly?" alessia said, eyes wide. "you've actually put my child in chelsea gear?"
your grin only grew wider. "mummy, aggie say it's local team! i blue team now!"
that did it. the words blue team felt like a dagger to the heart of every arsenal fan within earshot even if you had been told a white lie of the team it was, as if you'd known you would have down right refused.
but before alessia could even process the absurdity of it, another voice sharp, clipped, and unmistakably protective cut through the corridor like a dagger
"take that off her. now."
leah.
her water bottle clinked as it hit against her phone like thunder as she marched toward them, expression unreadable except for the dangerous flicker in her eyes that said someone (probably two someones) were about to be in serious trouble.
"le," alessia began gently, trying to sound calm, "it's fine, it's just harmless—"
but leah was already crouched in front of you, her jaw tightening as she stared down the badge on your chest.
"angel," leah said, voice low but stern, "where did you get this?"
you pointed helpfully. "ags! niamh! they say blue team is good!"
"that blue team is chelsea," leah said, eyes flicking upward to the guilty duo. "and chelsea is not good, cause we arsenal"
aggie snorted under her breath. "depends who you ask."
leah's glare could've frozen lava. your little face scrunched in confusion. "not good? blue pretty!”
leah exhaled, softening instantly at your innocent tone. leah brushed a curl from your forehead, her hand gentling. "blue is pretty, darling. but not that blue. that blue means chelsea. and because we're arsenal, we don't wear chelsea.”
you gasped dramatically, clapping your hands over your mouth as it started to click, your eyes glancing at the familiar badge now. "oh no. mummy, i wear bad blue?"
alessia bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to laugh. "it's okay, baby. you didn't know, a certain duo have been telling you fibs."
"but—now mama angry?" you whispered, glancing at leah nervously.
leah sighed, her expression cracking into a reluctant smile. "no, i’m not angry with you, angel. angry with them." she nodded toward aggie and niamh.
"hey! we were just having a laugh!" niamh protested. "didn't think she'd—"
"didn’t think she'd what?" leah snapped lightly. "parade through camp in chelsea colours?"
"she looked happy!" aggie offered. "less said to make sure she’s happy!"
"happy is arsenal red," leah shot back without missing a beat.
that finally broke alessia, who let out a snort of laughter she couldn't contain. leah’s eyes narrowed at her. "don’t you start, less. you of all people..”
"le," alessia managed between giggles, "you're acting like she joined the club."
"she might as well have!" leah said indignantly, still clutching the offending shirt like it was evidence of treason.
—
later that night, after everyone had bantered leah over the millions of photos aggie and niamh had took of you in the chelsea shirt. it was now just the three of them in their room, own little bubble.
alessia was brushing your hair while leah sat cross-legged on the bed, still muttering under her breath about "corrupting influences" and "bad colour choices."
"mama?" you said sleepily, peering up at her. "you forgive me for blue?"
leah’s features softened completely. she reached out and pulled you into her lap, pressing a kiss into your hair. "there’s nothing to forgive, angel. you didn't know. it was just... a silly joke."
you nodded, cuddling in. "i love red best. i arsenal girl foreva’”
alessia smiled from across the room, watching leah melt under the weight of those sleepy curls and earnest words.
when you finally drifted off, tucked in with your esme and little gunnersaurus teddy, alessia climbed into bed beside leah, who was still staring at the discarded chelsea shirt lying in the corner thinking of a way to get rid of it.
"you know," alessia teased quietly, "you might be the only person in camp who took this personally."
leah shot her a sideways glance. "she’s our little gunner, lessi. she wears red. end of."
alessia laughed softly, leaning her head on leah’s shoulder. "god help us when you see her baby photos of her in manchester red then..”
based on this request: oh my god i loved your niamh x bronze reader fix could you maybe do a second part! where niamh and lucy are posting teasing each other about spending time with reader and then reader posts a photo of all three of them together finally
niamhcharles17
tagged: y/nbronze
liked by y/nbronze, aggiebjones, lucybronze, _hannahhampton and others
niamhcharles17 i hate the off season (read: i miss my girlfriend) so muchhhh
view comments
lucybronze you're just jealous that im with y/n over the break and you're not (liked by author and y/nbronze)
↳ niamhcharles17 and if i am???? (liked by y/nbronze)
↳ lucybronze SHE'S LITERALLY MY SISTER??? (liked by y/nbronze)
↳ niamhcharles17 AND?? YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T HOG HER??
↳ y/nbronze guys ur so embarrassing my god
user1 y/n liking all the niamh and lucy comments she's messyyyy
user2 my fav family frfr
↳ user3 no because i would love to be a fly on the wall 1000%
user4 is niamh thirst trapping to get y/n's attention
↳ user5 is the sky blue??
lucybronze
liked by mbrighty04, y/nbronze, chloekelly, bethmead_ and others
tagged: y/nbronze
lucybronze off season trip
view comments
↳ y/nbronze professional third wheel reporting for duty (liked by author and niamhcharles17)
↳ niamhcharles17 you wouldn't have to third wheel if lucy didn't keep hogging you babe (liked by author and y/nbronze)
↳ lucybronze again, we're related?? get over it, niamh
↳ y/nbronze guys please you're embarrassing me (liked by author and niamhcharles17)
user6 I can feel y/n's second hand embarrassment through the phone
user7 the bronze's are my favourite family frfr
↳ user8 no like I want them to adopt me
user9 this post is soooo cute omg
chelseafcw
liked by lucybronze, niamhcharles17, y/nbronze, user10, user11 and others
chelseafcw it was a surprise header for bronzey in the 89th minute with an assist from niamh to round out a 3-0 win against west ham!
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user12 yessss ugh run this back ALWAYS
user13 my blues, lets get that league title
↳ user14 YOU KNOW ITTTT please i beg chelsea
y/nbronze my fav girlssss proudest sister and girlfriend (liked by niamhcharles17 and lucybronze)
↳ niamhcharles17 💙 (liked by y/nbronze and lucybronze)
↳ lucybronze 💙 (liked by niamhcharles17 and lucybronze)
user15 your honour i love them
yourusername
iked by lucybronze, niamhcharles17, keirawalsh, aggiebjones and others
tagged: niamhcharles17 and lucybronze
yourusername mandatory celebrations for my favourite goalscorer and assist provider, even if they do always embarrass me
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fin.
regular posting has resumed!! sorry for leaving all you angels in the dark, revision has been kicking my ass :(
Meeting someone at one of Niamh Charles’s parties usually guarantees a fun night, but when you instantly connect with a girl named Aggie, you don’t imagine she’s Chelsea’s academy jewel.
Based on this request-> here, I hope you like it !!
---
The party at Niamh Charles’ house was exactly like all her parties: too much noise, too much food, and too many people trying not to break anything expensive.
You were leaning against the kitchen counter, watching the organized chaos with a smile. You’d known Niamh since before professional football became part of her daily routine. To you, she was still the girl who forgot her wallet in the most absurd places, not a Chelsea player.
“Y/N!” she shouted from the living room. “Come here, I need you to meet someone.”
She grabbed your wrist and pulled you through the crowd back into the kitchen, as if it were the center of the universe.
“Aggie, this is Y/N. My favorite person outside of football.”
The girl in front of you had an easy smile and an energy that was impossible to ignore.
“Hi,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Aggie.”
“Y/N.”
“Niamh talks about you a lot,” Aggie added, amused. “Especially about your ability to win ridiculous arguments.”
“That’s a lie,” Niamh cut in. “I win.”
“Sure you do,” you and Aggie replied at the same time.
You looked at each other.
And that’s where it all started.
Niamh disappeared five minutes later to attend to more guests, leaving you talking alone. The conversation flowed with an ease you didn’t expect: music, bad TV shows, shared hatred of cold coffee, and how hard it was to find quiet plans in London.
Football was never mentioned.
And you didn’t ask.
To you, Aggie was simply another friend from Niamh’s circle.
—
Three months later, Aggie was no longer “the girl from the party.”
She was the person who sent you good morning texts with terrible memes. The one who insisted on walking through Battersea Park even when it was raining. The one who pretended not to be competitive until you pulled out a console.
You knew she worked “in sports.”
But she never specified.
And you never pushed.
Until one Sunday, Niamh called you.
“I need moral support. I’ve got two passes for today at Stamford Bridge. You’re coming, no excuses.”
“Who are you playing?”
“City. Big match.”
You accepted without thinking too much about it.
—
The stadium was full. The atmosphere vibrated even in the family and friends section.
You sat next to Niamh, who that day was suspended and couldn’t play. She explained parts of the match to you, and you nodded, pretending to understand.
Until the players walked onto the pitch.
And you saw her.
Number 33.
Hair tied back.
Focused smile.
Aggie Beever-Jones.
Your Aggie.
The world stopped for a second.
“That can’t be…” you murmured.
Aggie looked up toward the stands as if she knew exactly where to look. Her eyes found you in the crowd.
And she smiled.
A small wink.
A kiss blown into the air.
Next to you, Niamh frowned.
“Who is Aggie blowing a kiss to?” she asked, confused. “She’s very happy today.”
You were still in shock.
“Niamh…”
“Yeah?”
“Since when does Aggie play for Chelsea?”
Silence.
She blinked.
“What do you mean since when? Since always. She’s literally my teammate.”
You slowly turned to look at her.
“You never mentioned it.”
“I thought you knew.”
“How would I know?”
Niamh opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
“Okay… maybe I assumed things.”
—
Chelsea won with a goal from Aggie in the second half.
Of course.
When the match ended, you went down with Niamh toward the area near the tunnel.
The players started coming out.
Aggie was one of the first.
And the moment she saw you, she didn’t hesitate for even half a second.
She ignored cameras.
Ignored interviews.
Ignored Niamh.
She ran toward you and hugged you, lifting you slightly off the ground while hiding her face in your neck.
“Now do you understand why I didn’t tell you much about work?” she whispered, amused.
“You could have mentioned it.”
“I liked that you saw me as Aggie. Not as ‘the footballer.’”
The way she said it disarmed you.
Niamh appeared beside you with a completely betrayed expression.
“Sorry… what is going on here?”
Aggie put her feet back on the ground but didn’t let go of your hand.
“We’re dating.”
“Since when?”
“Three months,” you both answered at the same time.
Niamh looked up at the sky as if searching for divine patience.
“Three months. THREE. And I’ve spent weeks telling Y/N that Aggie is the most annoying one in training.”
“Hey,” Aggie protested.
“And I’ve spent weeks telling Aggie that my best friend would never date someone from the team because ‘that would be too much drama.’”
You crossed your arms.
“Do you know what the worst part is? You introduced us.”
Niamh pointed at herself.
“I did this?”
“You did this,” Aggie confirmed.
From behind, a couple of teammates started laughing as they noticed the scene. Someone whistled. Another shouted something unintelligible that made Aggie shake her head, red up to her ears.
Niamh kept looking at both of you as if she were trying to solve an impossible puzzle.
“I don’t know whether to feel betrayed or impressed,” she finally muttered.
“Impressed sounds better,” Aggie replied without letting go of your hand.
You smiled, leaning slightly toward Niamh.
“And relax. Your star teammate is actually pretty charming when she’s not scoring goals in derbies.”
Aggie let out a soft laugh.
“Thanks, I think.”
Niamh pointed at Aggie.
“Okay, but just so it’s clear, on Monday at training I don’t want a single complaint about ‘oh, I’m tired.’ Now I know exactly why you smile so much at your phone.”
“That’s an invasion of privacy,” Aggie protested.
“That’s being a good friend,” Niamh shot back.
Aggie wrapped an arm naturally around your waist, no longer hiding anything, resting her forehead briefly against your temple.
“So… did you like the goal?”
“It was good,” you said, pretending to analyze seriously. “But I liked the wink before the match more.”
She smiled sideways.
“I knew you were watching.”
Niamh shook her head, still incredulous.
“I’m going to need another party to process that my best friend and my teammate have been dating for three months without me knowing.”
“Technically,” Aggie intervened, “thanks to you, we’re here.”
“That’s what hurts the most.”
The three of you ended up laughing.
And while the cameras kept capturing celebrations for the victory, you only thought about how simple everything had been at the beginning: a crowded kitchen, a casual conversation, and a smile that promised nothing…
Summary: After comments online you're left to spiral and don't feel pretty anymore. Since you don't listen to her when she tells you normally your girlfriend takes it into her own hands to love on every single part of your body
Warnings: Bad mental health, self doubt, oral (r receiving), body worshipping
Masterlist
You stare at yourself in the mirror, the dim glow of the bedside lamp highlighting every curve you’ve grown to hate recently. A few months ago it started, hundreds of shitty and mean comments about your body online. You hadn't really gained weight or looked different but it was like someone had completely changed your view. Your hands trace the swell of your hips, the softness of your stomach and the reflection seems like a stranger. Someone you used to recognize, but now feels heavier, duller, less… you.
A quiet sound from the bed makes you turn. Your girlfriend Niamh sits there. Her back against the headboard, her hair loose around her shoulders and watching you with something in her eyes you can’t quite place. Concern? Hurt? Desire to say something she doesn’t know how to voice? You know she was worried.
“I…” You start, then swallow the words. There’s no right way to explain how wrong you feel in your own skin.
Niamh shifts closer, her hand hovering just above yours before she settles it gently on your arm. The touch is warm, grounding, but it sends a pang through you. You pull slightly away, ashamed that even her presence can’t erase the self-loathing bubbling inside.
“You’re… beautiful.” She murmurs softly, almost as if she’s scolding herself for saying it. “You always have been.”
You laugh bitterly, the sound cracking the fragile quiet of the room. “Not really.”
Her fingers tighten around yours. “I don’t care what you think your reflection says. I care about you. This…” she gestures vaguely at you, at the space between the two of you. “...all of this, it’s still you. Still the person I… care about. More than you probably even realize.”
The words hang between you, heavy and impossible. You want to believe her, you really do, but the mirror’s reflection refuses to let you. And you knew it wasn't the mirror's fault, your mind was to blame. Your chest feels tight, caught between wanting to curl away and wanting to collapse into her arms. You knew she'd make you feel good and safe.
“You don’t understand.” You whisper, voice small. “I don’t feel… pretty. Not like I used to. Not enough.”
Her grip on your hand strengthens, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. “Enough?” she repeats, incredulous. “You’ve never needed to be ‘enough’ for me. You’re everything… to me. Please, don’t let that voice in your head convince you otherwise.”
For a moment, all you can do is sit there, the storm of self-doubt and love crashing silently between you. Niamh leans in, her forehead resting gently against yours. Her breath is warm, steady. Her presence alone is a lifeline, a tether pulling you back from the edge of your insecurities, even if you can’t fully grasp it yet.
And in that quiet room, you wonder if maybe, just maybe, seeing yourself through her eyes could be enough.
She kissed your neck gently and you couldn't stop the shiver that ran through your entire body. You sighed a tiny bit and interlaced your fingers gently and let your head fall back giving her more access to your neck.
Behind you Niamh smiles triumphantly and continues gently kissing and nibbling at your neck. She leaves small love bites, marking you as hers softly. Then she whispers again. “You're so beautiful. I wish I could shut your mind off and make you see yourself the way I do.”
You blushed a tiny bit as she stroked her hand over your sides, her face still in your neck and her hot breath tickling you.
She suddenly smiled and moved from behind you, immediately you turned around confused to look at her. “Niamh?”
But your girlfriend just smiled and stood in front of you, before pushing you on your back. You were basically laying on your back, while she hovered over you.
“Just lay back and look pretty for me.” Niamh hums and kisses your forehead, before peppering kisses all over your face. “You're so pretty, my girl. All my girl to love.”
“Niamh? What are you doing?” You giggle but she just smiles cheekily, that silly smile you fell in love with. She captures your lips in a soft kiss and when she pulls away she smiles softly. “Making you see how pretty you are.”
Her hands pull on your shirt till it's off and thrown half way across the room. Immediately you blush, feeling a bit insecure, which is crazy considering you how many times she has seen you naked. She smiles and strokes your sides. “You're so beautiful. The only girl I wanna look at.” Her hands was gentle as they stroked your sides, over your body. You didn't have as prominent abs as some other players, you had a slim body. She smiled softly as her fingers and lips trailed over your skin. Every now and then she'd whisper a sweet and soft compliment against your skin.
You whimpered and tried to pull her back up to kiss you, but Niamh smiled at you. “No baby. You just look pretty. I wanna kiss every single bit of your skin before we leave today.”
“Niamh. At least touch me for real.” You whine, she was railing you up but not touching you anywhere, where it really would be pleasurable.
She laughed but obeyed. “Fine. Since you asked so nicely.” Her hands unclasped your bra and before you knew it her lips were on your breast. The other one was being played with by her hand. “Oh my God. Niamh.” You whimper and cling to her, trying to hold onto her silky hair. She smirked against your breast as she sucked your nipple in. You could feel her smirking.
How much time passed with her just playing with your breasts, kissing your neck and your stomach… but the next time she pulls away you're breathing heavily, your cheeks are flushed with desire and you know you're definitely wet.
But Niamh just smiles softly and strokes your cheek. “You're so pretty like this. So needy and cute. And just for me. I think this is my prettiest view.” “Niamh.” You groaned a bit wanting her to touch you for real. But also because your blush got worse by all the compliments. But they also healed something inside of you.
“I know.” The other girl chuckled and stroked over your hair. “I'll kiss your pretty cunt now.” The moan that left you felt filthy and needy but she did like she promised and gently pulled your panties down. “So pretty and so wet. You like being told you're so pretty, don't you?” She says and strokes gently over your vagina.
You nod a bit. “Feels good when you call me pretty.” “Then I'll have to do this daily, don't I? Just have you in our bed and kissing all your silly thoughts away so you don't even think you're not the prettiest girl in the world.” She hums and kisses you again.
“Can you… please?” You whimpered needy and moved your hips a bit. She hummed and suddenly her lips were on your clit and she kissed gently. “So pretty.” Niamh just whispered gently before kissing it again.
Then she started sucking and you immediately moaned loudly, your hand coming to press her closer to you. It doesn't even take long for her to make you cum. After about thirty minutes of her worshipping and kissing every inch of your body you had already been so close.
When you cum your legs clench around her and she has to press one of her hands on your lower belly to keep you from moving too much. You fell back exhausted but blissfully calm. Niamh hovered over you, still fully dressed but her face covered in your wetness. And she looked so pleased with herself, like she had just proven that you were the most beautiful woman on earth to the entire planet… admittedly seeing her adoring look after she spent so long worshipping your body did things to you. And it definitely shut up any of the thoughts you had earlier.
Joining Chelsea was supposed to be the difficult part. New club. New teammates. New expectations. A new training ground to learn and a new system to settle into. You had spent the weeks leading up to the transfer preparing yourself for all of it. You expected the nerves that came with walking into a dressing room where friendships already existed. You expected the pressure of proving that Chelsea hadn't made a mistake bringing you in. You even expected the inevitable first few weeks of getting lost in hallways and pretending you knew exactly where you were going whenever a member of staff walked past.
What you hadn't prepared for was Niamh Charles. More specifically, you hadn't prepared for the fact that Niamh Charles apparently couldn't allow anything to happen without turning it into a competition. You didn't realize this immediately.
For the first few days, Niamh seemed perfectly normal. She had been one of the first people to introduce herself properly when you arrived, offering you an easy smile from across the changing room before coming over to help when you couldn't figure out which training top you were supposed to be wearing.
“You've got the wrong one.”
You looked down at yourself. “What?”
Niamh pointed toward your shirt. “That's tomorrow's.”
You stared at her. Then at the shirt. Then back at her.
“They're identical.”
“They're not.”
“They're both blue.”
“Different blue.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You're taking the piss.”
Niamh laughed. “I'm not.”
You glanced around the changing room and, annoyingly, everyone else was wearing a slightly different shade. “Great start.”
“You've been here three days.”
“Exactly. Shouldn't be making mistakes this early.”
Niamh smiled. “Want me to show you where the other ones are?”
“Please.”
She did. That was the problem. She was nice. Funny too. You found yourself naturally gravitating toward her because she made everything feel slightly less intimidating. If you weren't sure where something was, Niamh knew. If you missed an inside joke, she explained it. When you walked into lunch on your second day and hesitated because you had no idea where to sit, she'd simply kicked out the empty chair beside her. You had started thinking you might actually become good friends.
Then, on your fourth day, she ruined everything.
Training had finished nearly twenty minutes earlier, but a handful of you were still messing around on the pitch. Someone had started taking shots from increasingly stupid distances. Someone else was sitting on a ball near the touchline offering completely unnecessary commentary. You were about to head inside when a ball rolled toward your feet. You trapped it.
Niamh was standing several yards away. “Crossbar?”
You looked at her. “What?”
She nodded toward the goal. “Crossbar challenge.”
You glanced toward it. Then back at her. “Why?”
Niamh shrugged. “Why not?”
You should have walked away. You would later think about that moment often. You should have said you were tired. You should have gone inside. You should have done literally anything except smile and ask, “How many?”
Niamh's expression changed instantly. “Best of five.”
“Easy.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Confident.”
“Should I not be?”
“You've been watching me train all week.”
“And?”
“And you should know better.”
You laughed. “Okay, Charles.”
Someone sitting nearby immediately looked over. “Oh, this should be good.”
Neither of you paid attention. Niamh positioned the ball. “You first.”
“Why me?”
“Guests first.”
“I play here.”
“For four days.”
“Still counts.”
Niamh gestured dramatically toward the ball. You rolled your eyes and stepped forward. First attempt. Crossbar. The metallic crack echoed across the pitch. You turned toward Niamh with your arms spread. “Anything else?”
Her eyes narrowed. “One.”
Niamh stepped up. Crossbar. You nodded. “Lucky.”
She laughed. “Already making excuses?”
“Just observing.”
Second attempt. You missed. Niamh hit. “One-two,” she announced.
“You're counting out loud?”
“Yes.”
“That's obnoxious.”
“You're losing.”
“By one.”
“Still losing.”
Your third hit. Hers missed. Two-two. Your fourth missed. Hers missed too. Everything came down to the final shot. By then, more teammates had noticed what was happening. A small audience had gathered behind you, which made the entire thing significantly more serious than a completely meaningless crossbar challenge had any right to be.
Niamh looked at you. “Pressure getting to you?”
You smiled. “Worried?”
“Not even slightly.”
“Sure.”
You placed the ball down. Took a few steps back. Then struck it. The ball rose. Hit the crossbar. And bounced away. You immediately turned around. Niamh stared at you. You smiled sweetly. “Three.”
“I'm aware.”
“Just making sure.”
She stepped toward the ball. “If I hit this, we tie.”
“And?”
“Sudden death.”
You folded your arms. “If you hit it.”
Niamh looked over her shoulder. “You talk a lot.”
“Distracted?”
“No.”
She took the shot. The ball sailed just over. Silence. Then you started laughing. Niamh turned. “Don't.”
You held up three fingers. “Three-two.”
“I know the score.”
“Do you?”
“Y/N.”
“Just making sure.”
She shook her head and started walking toward you. You didn't know her well enough yet to recognize the look on her face. You would. Eventually. “Again.”
You blinked. “What?”
“Best of five.”
“We just did best of five.”
“Again.”
“I won.”
“You got lucky.”
Your mouth fell open. “You called me a sore loser five minutes ago!”
“You were being one.”
“I wasn't losing five minutes ago.”
“Exactly.” You stared at her.
Niamh stared back. Then you smiled. “Fine.”
Someone behind you groaned. That should have been the first warning. The rematch became another rematch. You lost the second. Naturally, you demanded a third. Niamh won that too. You refused to leave.
By the time one of the coaches finally appeared and asked why the two of you were still on the pitch, you had been competing for nearly forty minutes. Neither of you could agree on who had actually won overall.
“You lost three times,” Niamh said as you walked toward the changing room.
“Because you kept changing the rules.”
“I never changed the rules.”
“You absolutely did.”
“When?”
“The one where you said hitting the post counted for half.”
“It should.”
“It's called a crossbar challenge.”
“The post is attached to the crossbar.”
You stopped walking. Niamh stopped too. You stared at her. “That might be the stupidest argument I've ever heard.”
“And yet I'm still winning it.”
“You're not.” She smiled. There was something unbelievably irritating about that smile. You hated how much you liked it.
“You're annoying,” you told her.
“So I've heard.”
You started walking again. Niamh fell into step beside you. “Tomorrow?”
You looked over. “Tomorrow what?”
“Rematch.”
You laughed. “Absolutely.”
That was your second mistake. After that, everything became a competition. It started with football. Those at least made sense. Who could hit more long-range shots after training. Who could complete a passing drill faster. Who could score from the worst angle. Who could keep the ball up longest. You won some. Niamh won others. Neither of you ever accepted defeat gracefully.
Then the competitions followed you into the gym. You were halfway through a plank one morning when you noticed Niamh on the mat beside you. You looked over. She looked back. Neither said anything. Thirty seconds passed. The trainer called time. Everyone else dropped. You and Niamh stayed up.
Someone laughed. “Oh, for God's sake.”
You ignored them. Niamh's face was perfectly composed. You refused to let yours show anything different. Another thirty seconds. Your shoulders were starting to burn.
“You can stop,” Niamh said.
You stared straight ahead. “Worried about me?”
“Trying to help.”
“How kind.”
“Always.”
Another fifteen seconds. Your entire body was beginning to shake. You glanced sideways. Niamh was struggling too. Good. “You're shaking.”
“So are you.”
“No, I'm not.”
“You literally are.”
“Optical illusion.”
You laughed. That was nearly your downfall. Your arm buckled. You caught yourself.
Niamh gasped dramatically. “Ohhh.”
“Shut up.”
“Nearly lost.”
“Nearly doesn't count.”
Ten seconds later, Niamh dropped. You immediately collapsed beside her. “Yes!”
She rolled onto her back. “You cheated.”
You were breathing too hard to laugh properly. “How?”
“You distracted me.”
“You spoke first!”
“Strategy.”
“You're unbelievable.”
Niamh turned her head toward you. You were both lying flat on the gym floor now, sweaty and exhausted. She smiled. “One-one.”
You frowned. “What?”
“Crossbar. Plank.”
“Crossbar was several competitions.”
“I'm counting categories.”
“You don't get to decide that.”
“Why?”
“Because you're only doing it so we're tied.”
Niamh's smile widened. “Prove it.”
You stared at her. Then you started laughing. She joined you. From somewhere nearby, one of your teammates muttered, “They're going to kill each other.”
Neither of you heard the second response. “No, they're going to get married.”
Within two weeks, there was apparently a running score. Nobody knew what the score actually was. You said you were winning. Niamh said she was. Both of you had started keeping notes on your phones as evidence. The lists were completely different. “You can't count that.”
You were sitting beside Niamh at lunch, staring at her phone. “Why not?”
“Because getting to breakfast first isn't a competition.”
“It was that morning.”
“No, it wasn't.”
“I said race you.”
“You said that when you were already walking through the door!”
Niamh shrugged. “Should've walked faster.”
You snatched her phone. “Give me that.”
“Oi!” She reached for it. You twisted away.
“Niamh wins, best parking space? What the fuck does that even mean?”
“I found a better parking space than you.”
“That isn't a skill!”
“Sounds like something someone with a bad parking space would say.”
You stared at her. She smiled. You deleted it. Niamh gasped. “You did not.”
“Absolutely did.”
“Give me my phone.”
She lunged. You held it away. “Niamh!”
“Give it!”
“Stop!”
She grabbed your arm. You laughed and leaned away. The chair nearly tipped. Someone across the table reached out to steady it. “Can you two behave for five minutes?”
“No,” you and Niamh answered together.
You both stopped. Looked at each other. Then started laughing again. Your teammate sighed. “Why did I ask?”
Eventually, Niamh managed to wrestle the phone from your hand. “You're a cheat.”
“You invented points for parking.”
“It was a good spot.”
“It was ten feet closer.”
“Exactly.”
You shook your head.
“Unbelievable.”
Niamh smiled down at her plate. You caught yourself looking at her for a second longer than necessary. Something warm settled in your chest. You immediately looked away. You liked Niamh. Obviously. She had somehow become your closest friend at Chelsea in less than a month. That was all. The competitions eventually escaped Cobham altogether. One night, several of you ended up at a teammate's apartment for food and games. Someone suggested FIFA. You and Niamh both reached for controllers.
Immediately. “No,” someone said.
You looked over. “What?”
“Not you two.”
Niamh looked offended. “Why?”
“Because I want to go home tonight.”
You rolled your eyes. “Dramatic.”
Twenty minutes later, you understood their concern. “You're wasting time!”
“I am literally playing the game.”
“You've been passing around the back for five minutes.”
“Because I'm winning.”
“By one goal!”
“Still winning.” Niamh glared at the screen. You were sitting beside her on the floor, close enough that your knees kept bumping every time one of you moved. It had started accidentally. At some point, neither of you bothered shifting away. “Press me then,” you said.
“I am.”
“Not very well.”
“Shut up.” You laughed.
Niamh's player stole the ball. “Oh, fuck.”
“Not very well?”
“Lucky.”
She pushed forward. You scrambled defensively. She shot. Goal. Niamh jumped up. “Yes!”
You stared at the screen. “Sit down.”
She turned toward you. “One-one.”
“There are ten minutes left.”
“Enough time.”
“For me.”
Niamh sat again. Closer this time. Her shoulder pressed against yours. Neither of you seemed to notice. The final minutes became chaos. Someone behind you was laughing. Another teammate had started commentating. Niamh nearly scored. You cleared it. The clock ticked down. Then, in the final seconds, you got the ball. Counterattack. Niamh leaned forward. “No.”
You smiled. “Oh, yes.”
“Don't.” You shot. Goal. The room erupted. You dropped the controller and threw both arms into the air.
“YES!”
“No!” Niamh stared at the screen.
You turned toward her. “Two-one.”
“That was bullshit.”
“Scoreboard.”
“You got lucky.”
“Funny. You say that a lot when you lose.”
Niamh shoved your shoulder. You shoved her back. “Poor loser.”
“Cheat.”
“How did I cheat?”
“I don't know yet.” You laughed.
Around you, people started getting up. You barely noticed. Niamh grabbed the controller again. “Again.”
You stared at her. “It's midnight.”
“Scared?” You looked at the clock. Then at Niamh. Her eyes were bright with challenge. You should have said no. You had training the next morning. You should have gone home.
Instead, you slowly picked your controller back up. “One more.”
Niamh smiled. “That's what I thought.”
The next match started. Neither of you noticed the room slowly emptying. By the time you finally looked around, everyone else was gone. You frowned. “Where did everyone go?”
Niamh glanced behind her. “Huh.”
“They left us.”
“Rude.”
You looked at the clock. 12:47. “Oh, shit.”
Niamh laughed. “We're going to regret this tomorrow.”
“You're going to regret it now when I beat you again.” She turned back toward the screen. “You wish.”
You started the next match. Somewhere around the twentieth minute, Niamh's knee pressed against yours again. Neither of you moved. At halftime, she stole half of your drink without asking. You complained. She ignored you. At some point, your shoulder ended up resting against hers. It felt natural enough that you didn't notice. Not really. Not yet. You were too busy arguing over whether her goal should count because you'd been distracted by your phone. Niamh insisted it did. You demanded a rematch. She accepted immediately. Neither of you had realized it yet, but somewhere between crossbar challenges, ridiculous gym competitions and midnight FIFA matches, something had changed. You weren't seeking Niamh out because you wanted to beat her anymore. Not entirely. You were doing it because every competition meant another ten minutes beside her. Another argument. Another laugh. Another excuse to have her attention completely on you. The competition was still real. You absolutely wanted to win. You just hadn't realized yet that Niamh Charles was rapidly becoming the one person you didn't particularly mind losing time to.
-
Grocery shopping should not have been competitive.
There were certain things in life that naturally invited competition. Football, obviously. FIFA. Running. Gym sessions. Anything involving points, goals, times, distances, or the possibility of proving that you were better than someone else. Buying tomatoes was not supposed to be one of those things. At least, that was what you believed before you made the mistake of going grocery shopping with Niamh Charles.
It started because the team had decided to have dinner together after training. Nothing particularly exciting, just one of those rare evenings where everyone was free at the same time and someone had an apartment large enough to fit half the Chelsea squad without people having to sit on the floor. The original plan had been to order takeaway, but somewhere between training finishing and everyone getting changed, somebody suggested cooking instead.
That suggestion quickly turned into a mess of people volunteering to make different things, arguing over what counted as a proper dinner, and eventually realizing that nobody actually had half the ingredients they needed.
You hadn't been paying much attention to any of it until someone held up a shopping list and announced that the supermarket was only ten minutes away. The changing room suddenly became suspiciously quiet. Everyone found something else to do. Boots needed reorganizing. Phones became fascinating. One teammate actually disappeared into the showers despite having already showered. You looked around in disbelief. “Oh, absolutely not.”
Nobody made eye contact. Then you heard Niamh laugh beside you. You turned immediately and pointed at her. “You're coming with me.”
Her smile disappeared almost instantly. “Why?”
“Because you laughed.”
“That isn't how volunteering works.”
“It is now.”
Niamh looked around the changing room as though someone might save her. Nobody did. Eventually, she sighed and grabbed her bag, muttering something about how she was driving because she didn't trust you to get there without getting lost. Twenty minutes later, the two of you were walking through the supermarket with a trolley between you and a shopping list long enough to make you regret agreeing to any of it.
For the first few minutes, everything was surprisingly normal. You collected vegetables while Niamh disappeared in search of pasta. You found tomatoes, onions, peppers and several other things on the list before she returned, dropping her own collection into the trolley. You didn't think anything of it until you noticed her staring down at everything you'd already found.
“What?”
Niamh looked from the trolley to you. “You've got all of that already?”
You shrugged. “I'm efficient.”
Something changed in her expression. You recognized it immediately. There it was. That little narrowing of her eyes that meant Niamh had somehow found a competition where no competition previously existed. You should have stopped it.
Instead, you smiled. “Are you upset because I'm better at grocery shopping than you?” That was all it took. Niamh snatched the shopping list from beneath your hand, tore it directly down the middle and handed half back to you. Before you had even fully processed what she was doing, she had decided that the first person to return to the trolley with everything on their half of the list would win. You stared at the paper. Then at her.
“This is genuinely the stupidest thing we've ever done.”
Niamh only raised an eyebrow. “Scared?”
You hated how effective that word was on you. You folded your half of the list and looked at her. “You're going down.”
Niamh took off before you'd even finished speaking. “Cheat!"
Her laughter followed her around the corner. You immediately chased after her. The next seven minutes were possibly the most ridiculous seven minutes of your life. You moved through the supermarket with far more urgency than anyone buying groceries should ever possess, scanning shelves and throwing ingredients into the basket you'd grabbed along the way. Every time you spotted Niamh at the opposite end of an aisle, the competition somehow became more serious.
She would glance at your basket. You would glance at hers. Then both of you would immediately start moving faster. At one point, you passed each other near the refrigerated section and Niamh actually tried to cover her basket with her arm so you couldn't see what she had already collected. You laughed at her. Then did exactly the same thing when she tried to look at yours. Things reached their lowest point in the produce aisle. There was one bulb of garlic left in a nearly empty box, and unfortunately both of you spotted it at the same time. You froze at opposite ends of the aisle. Niamh looked at the garlic. You looked at Niamh. She moved. So did you. Within seconds, two professional footballers were practically sprinting through a supermarket over a single bulb of garlic. Your hands reached it simultaneously. Neither of you let go.
For several seconds, you stood there tugging it back and forth while arguing in increasingly hushed voices because an older woman beside you had started watching with visible concern. You eventually smiled apologetically at her. She slowly pushed her trolley away.
You looked back at Niamh. “Look what you've done. We've frightened her.”
Niamh stared at you like you'd lost your mind. “I've frightened her?”
“You're fighting me over garlic.”
“You won't let go!”
“Because I need it.”
Her eyes dropped toward the list in your hand. You realized your mistake too late. Niamh's expression slowly transformed into the most obnoxious smile you'd ever seen.
“Garlic isn't even on your list.” You froze. She tugged once. The garlic slipped from your hand. You stared at her. Niamh held it triumphantly against her chest.
“You were sabotaging me.”
“I was strategically preventing you from completing your objectives.”
“That is literally the definition of sabotage.”
“Sounds smarter my way.” Niamh laughed and turned away.
You watched her disappear around the corner before looking down at your own list. You were going to lose. Absolutely not. You took off in the opposite direction. Niamh beat you by forty-three seconds. Not that she let you forget the exact number. By the time you reached the checkout, she was standing beside the trolley with her arms folded and a smile that immediately made you want to turn around and leave.
“Don't.”
“Forty-three seconds.”
“I said don't.”
“That's quite a lot.”
“You ran.”
“So did you.”
“Because you started running.”
“Sounds like an excuse.”
You glared at her while loading everything onto the conveyor belt. Niamh continued smiling, clearly enjoying your irritation far too much.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don't.”
The answer came so naturally that neither of you seemed to process it at first. Your hands stilled. You looked at her. Niamh looked back. For one strange second, something shifted between you. It wasn't dramatic. She didn't suddenly look different, and you didn't have some life-changing realization beneath the fluorescent supermarket lights. But there was something in the way she'd said it. Something certain. Almost affectionate.
No, you don't.
Like she knew. Like she knew you well enough already to understand exactly how empty those words were whenever you said them. The cashier asked whether you needed bags. The moment disappeared. You looked away first.
Unfortunately, winning the grocery competition gave Niamh an unbearable amount of confidence. The second you arrived at the apartment, she announced her victory to anyone willing to listen. Most of your teammates seemed confused about how someone could possibly win at grocery shopping, which you appreciated until Niamh started explaining the rules. You dumped the bags onto the kitchen counter and informed everyone that the entire competition was invalid because she'd cheated. Niamh immediately denied it. Within thirty seconds, you were arguing again. Nobody even tried to intervene this time. You were beginning to suspect the team had accepted this as background noise.
Cooking should have calmed things down. It didn't. You and Niamh ended up beside each other at the kitchen counter, preparing vegetables while everyone else moved around the apartment. Music played somewhere behind you, conversations overlapped, and for a little while you managed to focus entirely on what you were doing. Then Niamh looked at the onions you'd chopped. She made a face. You noticed. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“That was definitely something.”
“They're just…big.”
You looked down at the onions. Then at her. “They're chopped.”
“Technically.”
You put the knife down. “Go on then.”
Niamh picked up another knife and started chopping the remaining half with an irritating amount of precision. You watched her. At first because you were determined to find something wrong with her technique. Then, somewhere along the way, you stopped looking at the onions. Your attention moved to her hands instead. The concentration on her face. The little crease that appeared between her eyebrows. The way she pushed her hair back with her wrist when it started falling forward. You stared for slightly too long. Niamh noticed. Of course she did. “You were staring.”
Your eyes snapped back toward the cutting board. “I was making sure you weren't going to cut your fingers off.”
“Concerned about me?”
“Concerned about dinner.”
You could hear the smile in her voice. You refused to look at her. For the next minute, the two of you actually behaved. Then Niamh bumped her hip against yours. You ignored it. She did it again. This time, you bumped her back hard enough that she stumbled sideways. Her offended expression lasted approximately half a second before she reached toward the flour sitting nearby. You saw it happen. “Niamh.”
Her fingers dipped into the bag. “Don't.” She smiled.
A streak of flour landed across your cheek. The kitchen went silent. You closed your eyes. Someone behind you whispered something that sounded suspiciously like, “She's dead.”
When you opened your eyes again, Niamh was already backing away. You grabbed a handful of flour. She ran. The next minute dissolved into chaos. Niamh disappeared around the kitchen island while you chased her, both of you laughing as teammates scrambled to move glasses and plates out of your path. You finally caught her near the sink, wrapping one arm around her waist from behind before she could escape again. Niamh squealed and tried to twist away. You held on. With your free hand, you smeared flour across her cheek. “There.”
“Y/N!”
“Now we're even.”
She turned in your arms. That was when everything changed. The laughter didn't stop immediately. It faded gradually as both of you seemed to realize the position you were in at exactly the same time. Your arm was still wrapped around Niamh's waist. One of her hands rested against your shoulder for balance. Her face was only inches from yours. You could feel the warmth of her body beneath your arm and the way her breathing had changed after running around the kitchen. There was flour across her cheek, and a strand of hair had fallen forward near her face. Your eyes moved toward it. Then toward her mouth.
When you looked back up, Niamh was already watching you. For once, neither of you had anything sarcastic to say. Her gaze dropped. Just briefly. But you saw it. Your breath caught. For one terrifying second, you wondered if she was going to kiss you. For an even more terrifying second, you realized you wanted her to. Someone cleared their throat. Loudly. You jumped apart.
“Dinner,” a teammate said from across the kitchen, although the expression on her face suggested dinner wasn't really what she'd been concerned about.
“Right.”
You turned toward the counter immediately. Niamh moved back toward her side. You picked up your knife. Your hands suddenly felt far less reliable than they had thirty seconds ago. The problem was that once you noticed the tension, you couldn't unnotice it. Niamh seemed perfectly capable of returning to normal. She continued joking with everyone, stealing ingredients from other people's stations and insisting she had contributed significantly more to dinner than you had. You, meanwhile, had apparently forgotten how to function whenever she came within two feet of you. Every casual touch felt different now. Every time she brushed past you, you noticed. When she reached around you for the olive oil a little later, her front lightly brushing against your back as her arm came around your side, you froze so obviously that even Niamh noticed. She stepped away with the bottle and looked at you. “You okay?”
“Fine.” Your voice betrayed you.
Niamh stared. Then her mouth twitched. “You're blushing.”
“No, I'm not.”
She looked toward the open kitchen window and then back at you. You knew exactly what she was thinking. “It's hot in here.”
That only made her smile wider. You turned back toward the hob. “Go find something useful to do.” Niamh laughed as she walked away. You stared down at the pan. This was becoming a problem. A serious one. Dinner itself should have provided some relief. Instead, you ended up sitting beside Niamh. There were other seats. Plenty of them. Neither of you acknowledged that.
Throughout dinner, your legs occasionally touched beneath the table. Neither moved. Niamh stole food from your plate without asking, and ten minutes later you retaliated by taking something from hers. It felt normal. That was what was confusing. The flirting, if it even was flirting, had become so tangled up with your friendship that you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. Apparently, everyone else could.
Halfway through dinner, someone finally asked when the two of you planned on telling everyone you were dating. You and Niamh denied it at exactly the same time. Far too loudly. The entire table erupted. You immediately regretted responding. Your teammates started listing evidence as though they'd been building a case for weeks. The grocery competition. The kitchen chase. Eating from each other's plates. The fact that your chairs had somehow moved closer together during dinner. Someone even mentioned the way Niamh always looked for you first when she entered a room. That one made you stop. You looked toward her. Niamh had gone strangely quiet too. Neither of you addressed it.
“We're friends,” you insisted eventually.
“Exactly,” Niamh added.
Friends. The word should have settled something. Instead, it left an uncomfortable little feeling in your chest. Someone across the table looked between you with an expression that said they didn't believe either of you. You ignored it. For the rest of dinner, though, you became painfully aware of Niamh beside you. Her knee touched yours again. This time, you noticed immediately. You didn't move it. Neither did she.
Later that night, you escaped onto the balcony. You told yourself you needed air. It had nothing to do with the conversation at dinner. Nothing to do with the kitchen. Nothing to do with the fact that you had spent the last hour wondering what exactly your teammates saw when they looked at you and Niamh together. You rested your arms against the railing and stared out over London. The balcony door opened behind you. You didn't turn around.
“Go away.”
Niamh laughed softly. “Didn't even look.”
“I knew it was you.”
“How?”
“You have an annoying presence.”
She stepped beside you and leaned against the railing. Normally, you would have bumped her shoulder or started some pointless argument. Instead, the two of you stood quietly. After a while, Niamh mentioned dinner. You knew immediately what she meant. The question. The teasing.
Are you two dating?
You both agreed everyone was ridiculous. The conversation should have ended there. Instead, Niamh laughed quietly and said, “Imagine us dating.”
You looked at her. “Nightmare.”
“Exactly.”
Neither of you sounded particularly convincing. Your eyes met. For a second, the humor disappeared. You wondered what it would actually be like. Dating Niamh. You imagined more nights like this. More competitions. More arguments over nothing. Her stealing your food without asking. Her sitting too close on the sofa. Her hand finding yours instead of merely brushing against it. You shut the thought down immediately.
“We'd argue constantly,” Niamh said.
“We already do.”
“Worse.”
“Probably.”
“You'd cheat at everything.”
You turned toward her, grateful for the familiar argument. “Me?”
“Yes.”
“You invented supermarket rules.”
“And won.”
“You're never letting that go, are you?”
“Absolutely not.” You laughed.
Just like that, the tension loosened. Niamh bumped her shoulder against yours. You bumped back. Neither of you moved away afterward. Your shoulders remained pressed together while you looked over the city. After a moment, Niamh announced that she was winning the day's competitions three-two. You immediately disputed it. Apparently, she'd awarded herself points for grocery shopping, chopping vegetables and somehow dinner itself. You spent several minutes arguing over whether eating more than you counted as a victory before eventually shaking your head.
“I hate you.”
Niamh went quiet. You felt her looking at you. When you turned, her expression had softened. “No, you don't.”
There it was again. The same certainty she'd had in the supermarket. Except this time there was no cashier to interrupt you. You held her gaze. For once, you didn't immediately hide behind another joke. “No,” you admitted softly. “I suppose I don't.”
Something changed in her face. Small enough that you might have imagined it. Before either of you could say anything else, someone shouted from inside the apartment.
“Are the married couple coming back or what?”
You closed your eyes. Niamh burst out laughing beside you. You yelled something considerably less polite through the glass, which only made everyone inside laugh harder. When you looked back at Niamh, she was still smiling. The moment had passed. Again. She opened the balcony door but stopped before stepping inside. “You coming?”
“In a minute.” Niamh nodded. Then she hesitated. For the first time all night, she looked almost nervous.
“I'm glad you're here, you know.” You stared at her.
She didn't clarify whether she meant the dinner, Chelsea, London, or something else entirely. Maybe that was why the words hit you so hard. Before you could think of an answer, Niamh disappeared back inside. The door slid shut. You remained where you were. Through the glass, you could see her rejoining everyone. Someone said something that made her laugh, her head tipping backward as she shoved the person beside her. You caught yourself smiling. Then you realized someone inside was watching you watch her. Their eyebrows slowly rose. You immediately looked away. Fuck. Maybe everyone else wasn't completely insane. Maybe there really was a line somewhere between competition and flirting. Between friendship and something more. And maybe you and Niamh had crossed it so gradually that neither of you had noticed until everyone else started pointing it out.
The strangest part was that the realization didn't scare you as much as it probably should have. Because when you thought back over the last few months, you couldn't remember exactly when Niamh had stopped being simply another teammate. You just knew that somewhere between crossbar challenges, gym sessions, FIFA matches and fighting over garlic in a supermarket, she had become the person you wanted beside you. Even when there was nothing left to compete over.
-
The problem with being told repeatedly that you had feelings for someone was that, eventually, you started looking for evidence.
Nobody had actually used the word love yet, thankfully. Dating had been mentioned more times than you could count. Flirting was apparently obvious to everyone except the two people supposedly doing it. Half the team had taken to calling you and Niamh an old married couple whenever you started arguing over something particularly ridiculous. Love, though? That would've been dramatic.
You had only known Niamh for a few months, and for most of that time, you'd been trying to beat her at increasingly pointless activities. You weren't in love with her. You were competitive with her. You liked having someone who challenged you. Someone who could take every sarcastic comment you threw at her and send one back twice as quickly. There was a difference. At least, there was supposed to be.
After the team dinner, however, you couldn't stop noticing things you'd somehow overlooked before. You noticed that Niamh was almost always the first person you looked for when you walked into the changing room. It wasn't intentional. Your eyes simply found her. Sometimes she'd already be watching the door, and the second she spotted you, her face would change. Nothing dramatic. Just a small smile before she returned to whatever conversation she'd been having.
You noticed that when she wasn't at breakfast yet, you automatically left the chair beside you empty. You'd throw your jacket over it or tell someone it was taken without ever stopping to consider who you were saving it for. Then Niamh would eventually appear, drop into the seat and steal something from your plate before she'd even said good morning.
You knew how she took her coffee. You knew which songs she'd skip if someone handed her control of the changing-room speaker. You knew she always wanted the corner piece of a brownie and that she got unusually quiet when something was bothering her. You had learned the difference between Niamh genuinely being annoyed and Niamh pretending to be annoyed because she wanted you to keep bothering her. None of it had been deliberate. You'd simply learned her. And then there was the touching. Apparently, you and Niamh touched each other constantly.
Before the dinner, you'd never thought anything of it. Now you noticed every hand on your shoulder when she passed behind you. Every time her knee pressed against yours beneath a table. Every casual hug after training. Every time she grabbed your forearm when you made her laugh particularly hard. Whenever the team gathered at someone's apartment, Niamh inevitably ended up close enough that her legs would eventually find their way across your lap.
It had always felt natural. Now it felt dangerous. Because every casual touch reminded you of the kitchen. Your arm around her waist. Her hand on your shoulder. Her eyes dropping toward your mouth. And, most inconveniently, the realization that if nobody had interrupted you, you weren't entirely sure you would've moved away.
“You're staring.” Your eyes snapped up. Niamh stood across from you in the gym, one hand resting on the dumbbells in front of her. There was an amused little smile on her face that told you she'd caught you several seconds ago and had simply been waiting to see how long it would take you to notice.
“I wasn't.”
“You were.”
“I was thinking.”
Niamh's smile widened. “About me?”
Your heart stumbled embarrassingly hard. “No.”
“Liar.”
You rolled your eyes and reached for your weights, hoping the movement hid the warmth spreading across your face. “You're unbelievably full of yourself.”
“You like me.” You glanced toward her.
Unfortunately, that was becoming increasingly difficult to deny. “Debatable.”
Niamh laughed before turning back toward her own station. Your eyes followed her. You caught yourself doing it. Again. You closed your eyes. Fuck. If you were having some kind of crisis over Niamh, you eventually realized you weren't the only one behaving differently. She watched you too. You'd catch her sometimes from across the changing room, her attention fixed on you until your eyes met and she suddenly became very interested in whatever was happening somewhere else. During training, she always seemed to find her way back to you between drills. At lunch, you could start with a reasonable amount of space between your chairs and somehow finish with her leg pressed against yours.
When the team went somewhere together, Niamh ended up beside you. Always. Neither of you acknowledged it. Instead, you competed. It was easier that way.
The competitions became even more ridiculous after the dinner. One morning, Niamh challenged you to race toward the halfway line and started running before she'd even finished explaining what was happening. Another afternoon, she bet you couldn't throw a balled-up piece of paper into a bin from across the changing room. You missed, she laughed until tears appeared in her eyes, and then she missed too, which resulted in you celebrating like you'd scored a stoppage-time winner.
There was the cake incident too. Niamh had stared at the enormous slice in front of you during lunch and bet you couldn't finish it. Somehow, the bet escalated into her buying your lunch for a week if you managed it. You finished the cake. Barely. You spent the rest of the afternoon regretting every decision you'd ever made. Niamh bought your lunch for the next week anyway.
The competitions had become somewhere to put everything neither of you knew how to talk about. Every challenge gave you permission to stare at her. Every playful shove meant you could touch her without wondering whether you were allowed. Every argument bought you another few minutes of her attention. You still wanted to win. Obviously. You just weren't entirely sure winning was the reason you kept saying yes anymore. Because you had started realizing something much more dangerous.
You wanted Niamh's attention more than you wanted the points. Your teammates were rapidly running out of patience. It came to a head after training one afternoon when a group of you were lingering in the changing room with nowhere particularly urgent to be. You were sitting on the floor with your back against the bench while Niamh sat above you, one of her legs resting beside your shoulder.
The conversation around you had drifted between football, weekend plans and some show everyone seemed to be watching except you. You were only half listening. Niamh's fingers had found a loose piece of your hair. She was twisting it absentmindedly around one finger, letting it fall and then doing it again. You hadn't noticed. Neither, apparently, had she. Everyone else had. Eventually, someone across the room released an exaggerated sigh. You looked over. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“That was a very aggressive nothing.”
Another teammate laughed. You frowned. Then you noticed several people were looking between you and Niamh. “What is wrong with everyone?”
Someone finally answered. “You two.”
You glanced up at Niamh. She looked equally confused. “We haven't even done anything.”
“That is precisely the problem.”
You stared at them. What followed was essentially an intervention. Apparently, the entire Chelsea squad had become exhausted by watching you and Niamh turn every conceivable activity into a competition while remaining completely oblivious to the one thing they all considered obvious.
They reminded you about the races after training. The food competitions. FIFA. Parking. Gym sessions. Coffee. Grocery shopping. Someone even brought up the fact that you'd once competed over who could change faster after training, which you thought had been completely justified at the time.
Niamh immediately started defending several of them. You joined her. Within thirty seconds, the two of you were arguing about whether Niamh getting to breakfast first that morning actually counted because she'd parked partially over a line. That apparently proved everyone's point. A sock flew toward you. You caught it and stared at the person responsible. “Rude.”
The teammate only shook her head. “You two will compete over literally anything.”
You opened your mouth to argue. Then came the sentence that shut both of you up. “Except admitting your feelings, apparently.”
The changing room went silent. Niamh's fingers stopped moving in your hair. You went completely still beneath her. Nobody needed to explain what they meant. That was the worst part. For once, neither you nor Niamh had a comeback. Your teammates apparently decided they'd caused enough damage. Bags were collected. Jackets were pulled on. Within two minutes, nearly everyone had disappeared from the changing room, leaving you and Niamh sitting in the uncomfortable silence they'd created.
You eventually stood. Neither of you mentioned the comment. Neither asked what the other thought about it. Instead, you asked Niamh if she wanted coffee. Her familiar smile returned. She challenged you to race there. And just like that, you both found somewhere to hide again. You probably could've continued like that for weeks. Maybe months. There would always be another competition to distract you from the obvious. Another joke to make whenever the conversation got too close to something real. Then someone flirted with you. The entire interaction lasted maybe three minutes. You barely thought about it. Niamh apparently thought about it plenty.
Chelsea had just won at home, and several of you had stopped near the tunnel afterward to speak with staff and people lingering around the stadium. You were still riding the high of the match when a woman struck up a conversation with you. She complimented your performance. You thanked her. She asked how you were settling into London, and you told her you were finally beginning to figure everything out. It was casual. Friendly. Then she asked whether you'd found any favorite places yet and offered to show you a few of hers sometime. That was when you realized she was flirting.
Before you could decide how to answer, an arm settled across your shoulders. You knew who it was before you looked. Niamh. She stood beside you with a smile that looked perfectly polite to anyone who didn't know her. You knew her. It was too polite. Her arm remained securely around you while the conversation continued for another few seconds. The woman looked between you both, seemed to reach some kind of conclusion, then smiled and excused herself. Niamh's arm disappeared the second she was gone. You watched the woman walk away. Then turned slowly toward Niamh. She was already pretending nothing had happened. You almost let her. Almost. Then you noticed the tightness in her jaw. The way she avoided looking toward where the woman had gone. The fact that she'd appeared at exactly the moment the conversation had become flirtatious.
A smile started pulling at your mouth. “Were you jealous?”
Niamh's head snapped toward you. Her denial came immediately. Too immediately. You knew you'd caught her. For the next minute, she insisted she'd only come over because everyone was leaving. You pointed out that half the team was still standing ten feet away. She claimed she'd simply been coming to get you. You reminded her that she'd practically draped herself over you in the process. Niamh became increasingly defensive. You became increasingly entertained. Until you asked whether she wanted to make it a competition. That got her attention. You folded your arms and explained the rules with a confidence you didn't feel.
First person to admit they were jealous lost. Usually, all it took was the suggestion that Niamh might be scared to make her accept any challenge you offered. This time, she didn't rise to it. She simply looked at you. For several seconds, something unreadable moved across her face. Then she said quietly, “That's not fair.”
Your smile faded. “Why?”
Niamh looked away. When she answered, her voice was softer than you'd expected. “Because I'd lose.”
The entire world seemed to stop. There were still people around you. Teammates talking. Staff moving through the stadium. Somewhere farther away, you could hear supporters still singing as they left. None of it mattered. You stared at Niamh. She had admitted it. Not as a joke. Not because you'd teased it out of her. She had been jealous. Of someone flirting with you. Your heart started beating faster. You stepped a little closer. Niamh looked at you again, and there was something almost vulnerable in her expression now. It was strange seeing her without the usual teasing confidence between you. No competition to hide behind.
You asked her why she'd been jealous. Niamh gave you a look that suggested she couldn't believe you were making her say it. You didn't rescue her. Maybe it was cruel. Maybe you simply needed to hear the words. Finally, she sighed.
“I like you.”
There it was. Simple. Terrifying. Perfect. For once, you couldn't think of anything sarcastic to say. Niamh continued before you could respond, admitting that she liked you far more than she probably should considering you drove her completely insane. A smile slowly spread across your face. The nerves in Niamh's expression immediately turned suspicious. “Don't.”
You couldn't help it. “I won.”
Her mouth fell open. “You absolute—”
You kissed her. Or maybe Niamh kissed you. That would become another argument eventually. In the moment, neither of you cared. Your hand caught the front of her shirt at almost exactly the same time her hand found your waist, and then her lips were against yours.
Suddenly, every ridiculous thing you'd been ignoring made sense. Every lingering touch. Every excuse to spend another ten minutes together. Every challenge neither of you needed to accept. The way you looked for her whenever you entered a room. The way she'd appeared beside you the second someone else showed interest. The way neither of you ever seemed to get tired of the other. Niamh kissed exactly the way she competed. Once she committed, she committed completely. Her hand tightened gently against your waist and pulled you closer. Your other hand found her cheek, and for the first time since you'd met, neither of you was trying to prove anything. There was no score. No winner. No loser. Just Niamh. And the realization that kissing her felt far more natural than it had any right to.
When you finally separated, neither of you went far. You were both breathing harder than a kiss probably justified. Niamh's eyes met yours. You smiled. Then, because apparently you were incapable of allowing a sweet moment to exist for longer than five seconds, you told her you'd kissed her first. The softness vanished from her expression. She immediately disagreed. According to Niamh, she'd pulled you toward her first. According to you, you'd already been leaning in. She argued that grabbing your shirt counted as initiating. You argued that it absolutely did not.
Within seconds, your first kiss had somehow become another competition. It was so painfully you that you couldn't even be annoyed. Then Niamh looked at you with that familiar challenge in her eyes and asked for a rematch. You stared at her. She smiled. “Scared?”
That was all it took. You grabbed the front of her shirt again and kissed her. The second kiss was different. Less surprising. Less tentative. Niamh laughed softly against your mouth when you pulled her closer, and you couldn't help smiling too. Apparently, neither of you had learned anything. You might have stayed like that for significantly longer if a shout hadn't echoed from somewhere behind you. “Fucking finally!”
You and Niamh broke apart. Slowly. Your eyes closed. Niamh dropped her forehead against your shoulder with a groan. You looked toward the tunnel. Three of your teammates were standing there. One was clapping. Another had both arms raised triumphantly. The third simply looked unbearably smug. You didn't want to know how long they'd been watching. Judging by their expressions, far too long. The teasing started immediately.
Months of frustration apparently came pouring out at once. They wanted to know whether you were finally together. Whether this meant the competitions would stop. Whether they could collect on bets you hadn't even known existed. You and Niamh looked at each other. Neither of you had actually considered what came next. You had kissed. Twice. You had admitted you liked each other. Beyond that, nothing had been decided. And strangely, you didn't feel any urgency to decide it right there in a stadium corridor with three teammates staring at you.
Eventually, you told them to leave. They did. Laughing. Of course. Silence returned. You looked at Niamh. She was already smiling. You reached for her hand without thinking. Her fingers slipped between yours just as naturally as if you'd been doing it for months. Maybe, in some ways, you had.
“So,” Niamh said after a moment. “Does this mean the competition is over?”
You didn't even need to think. “Absolutely not.”
“Good.”
You looked down at your joined hands and smiled. The competition couldn't end now. It simply needed better prizes. You suggested kisses. Niamh pointed out that if only the winner got kissed, technically the loser was being punished. You hated how good her logic was.
Eventually, you settled on the winner choosing where they got kissed instead. The effect that suggestion had on Niamh was immediate. Her cheeks turned pink. You stared. Then smiled. For someone who had spent months making fun of you every time she managed to embarrass you, watching Niamh suddenly become flustered was deeply satisfying. Naturally, she denied it. Naturally, you made it worse. And naturally, when she could no longer think of a comeback, she shoved you and started walking toward the tunnel.
Then she challenged you to race to the changing room. Loser bought dinner. You stared after her. Of course. Of fucking course. Niamh started running before you'd even agreed.
“Cheat!”
Her laughter echoed down the corridor. You chased her. Not because you cared about winning. Not this time. Because Niamh Charles liked you. You liked her. And after months of competing over absolutely everything, the rest of Chelsea had somehow figured it out before either of you. You still weren't sure who had fallen first. You weren't sure who had kissed who first either, no matter how strongly you intended to argue your side.
For once, the score didn't matter. Because when you caught up with Niamh near the changing room and she laughed as you wrapped your arms around her from behind, you realized there were some things you didn't need to win. You just needed to stop pretending you didn't want them.
Cooney-Crush My Heart (Charli Grant x Cooney-Cross!Reader)
For the purpose of this story, reader and Katrina lived in London a year before KCC and Charli
You always loved that football was something you shared with your sister. Both of you were now playing professionally in London. She’d just signed for Arsenal, while you’d been playing for Chelsea for just over a year. As well as that, you both played for the Australian national team. While the Australian cohort in London was constantly growing, somehow you ended up best friends with the England defender, Niamh Charles. She was your best mate, and you’d decided to move out of your rent-a-mum, Katrina’s, house and in with Niamh, after living with the older woman for the entirety of last season.
“One of my children is fleeing the nest then?” Katrina teased when you told her the news. You could only laugh with a nod. “Lucky, there will be room for Charli and Kyra now” she smiled.
“Charli is moving to England too?” You asked, rather quickly.
“Her transfer to Spurs just went through” Katrina informed you. You were the oldest of Katrina’s adopted kids. You were the one she trusted to have serious conversations with. The one she trusted with Harper, her actual child, the most. Her mum instincts were unmatched, and that’s how she knew the minute you and Charli were introduced that you both liked each other. You were quiet, unlike your younger sister, so she never thought to bring it up with you and make you awkward. “Harps, come say goodbye” Katrina shouted. The little toddler came running towards you, immediately demanding to be picked up.
“I’ll see you soon, kiddo” you pressed a kiss to her cheek and let her down as she ran off giggling “Thanks for everything” you said as you hugged Katrina.
“I still expect you to follow through on babysitting duties” Katrina smirked as you laughed.
“Anytime you need me” you smiled.
It was your actual mum that made you collect Kyra from the airport. But your sister had just failed to mention that a certain blonde would be with her and also needed a lift.
“You didn’t tell me your sister was coming” Charli punched Kyra as she caught you standing on your phone at the arrivals gate.
“My sister is here?” Kyra smiled, rubbing her arm from where Charli had just hit and looking around to try and spot you. “Y/n” Kyra shouted when she found you standing against a wall scrolling on your phone. You looked up with a smile, a smile which quickly turned to a look of anxiety when you noticed Charli beside her.
“Shit” you mumbled as you somehow managed to lift your hand up to wave to them. Kyra practically jumped into your arms, making you laugh before placing her back to the ground.
“My big dopey older sister” she chuckled.
“I am not the dopey one out of us too” you teased back, before looking to the blonde.
“Hi” Charli smiled.
“Hey” you smiled back, opening your arms for her to fall into, which she did. “I’ll take them” you said, pulling her suitcases, and only her suitcases, towards the exit.
“Wow thanks Y/n, don’t worry about me” Kyra shouted as you laughed.
“You’re both staying with Mini then?” You asked as Kyra and Charli both nodded.
“Don’t tell me we’re sharing a room” Kyra teased.
“God no” you laughed. “I moved in with Niamh” you explained as you slipped Charli’s bags into the boot of the car.
“Oh yeah, your girlfriend” Kyra teased while Charli’s smile quickly dropped off her face.
“Kyra how many times? She’s not my girlfriend” you rolled your eyes before finding Charli’s through the mirror. “Niamh is just a mate” you nodded before pulling your eyes towards the road. You pulled up outside Katrina’s house, helping the two, well Charli, carry her bags in. You hadn’t seen Katrina or Harper in a few days so you went in to say hello.
“All of my kids coming in at the same time” Katrina exaggerated a smile as the three of you walked through the door. “Harper look who’s here” she shouted as the toddler came running. She ran by Kyra and then Charli before jumping into your arms.
“Hello monkey” you laughed putting her up on your shoulders. “Kyra and Charli are here too, did you say hello?” you squeezed her legs as she waved to both of them. Charli looked at you in awe with how you interacted with the toddler.
“Where’s mummy?” Kyra asked the toddler who pointed towards the kitchen that Clara was in cooking dinner.
“Go tell mummy that we’re here” you told the toddler as you placed her carefully down on the ground and she ran off towards the kitchen, dragging Kyra with her.
“Are you staying for dinner then?” Katrina asked as you checked your watch.
“Uh” you hesitated.
“Stay?” Charli asked as your head shot up.
“Yeah, uh, yeah. I have time” you nodded. “You can take my old room. It’s bigger than the other one” you smiled at the blonde as you took her bags upstairs.
“Again, thank you Y/n” Kyra shouted from the kitchen before running after you with her own bags in hand.
“Stay?” Katrina teased in Charli’s tone of voice once you had both left ear shot.
“Shut up” Charli groaned.
“That is no way to speak to your mother” Katrina smirked. “If you wanted, I could talk to Kyra about-” she began.
“No, no. There is nothing to talk about” Charli shook her head.
“What? No! I want that room” Kyra shouted from upstairs.
“Piss off” you shouted back.
“Go help your other mum, I will sort this out” Katrina pushed Charli towards where Clara was in the kitchen before she went up to break up you and Kyra fighting. You had your little sister in a headlock when Katrina got to the top of the stairs.
“Let me go” Kyra demanded as you laughed.
“Little baby Kyra gets the little baby room” you teased with a smirk.
“Y/n, enough” Katrina huffed as you instantly let go. She wasn’t your real mum of course, but boy was she just as scary. “You, go downstairs” Katrina pointed at the staircase and looked on as you quickly jogged down. “You, put your stuff into that room and be down for dinner in the next five minutes” Katrina frowned as Kyra stumbled into the smaller bedroom with her bags.
You slid into the kitchen to find Charli standing alone. Clara had gone to get Harper changed and had squeezed your face gently as you passed each other in the hall.
“I didn’t know you were moving to London” you said to the younger girl, as you both were setting the table.
“It was a spur of the moment kind of thing” Charli giggled to herself.
“I can see why you and my sister are friends” you chuckled.
“London just seems so big” she gulped as you nodded.
“I definitely thought the same, but you get used to it” you shrugged.
“Maybe you could show me around?” Charli hinted.
“Yeah, absolutely, sure” you agreed, in three different ways. Charli wasn’t too sure how to react. She hadn’t expected you to say yes.
“Oh, um, great” she nodded. The rest of the family piled in as you plated up the food. Kyra pushed by Charli to sit beside you as the blonde sat opposite you, watching you and Kyra subtly kick each other under the table. You’d headed home straight after, back to you and Niamh’s place.
“That you?” Niamh shouted.
“If you is me, then yes” you called back making the girl laugh.
“You have dinner yet?” She asked.
“Yeah, I ate at Katrina’s” you nodded.
“Aw, mummy made you dinner?” She teased as you punched her in the arm. “How’s your sister?” She asked.
“Annoying as ever” you shrugged with a laugh. “Actually, Charli is here too” you mumbled as Niamh’s eyebrows shot up.
“As in Grant? As in your sister’s best friend that you are in love with?” She smirked.
“Shut up” you groaned.
“Sorry, I meant your sister’s best friend that you are secretly in love with” she whispered in a more sarcastic tone.
“I’m never drinking around you ever again” you laughed. It was a drunken night after you’d won the league that you told Niamh you really liked Charli. You thought she’d be too drunk to remember, but she’d brought it up just about every day since.
“Are you ever going to tell her?” She asked.
“No way” you shook your head. “Kyra would flip and anyway, it’s just a stupid little crush. She doesn’t like me that way” you shrugged. You’d just sat down on the couch with a mug of tea, and Niamh with food, starting to watch an episode of the show you were watching together when your phone beeped.
Charli
Hiiii
It was so nice to see you today!
Want to take me sight seeing tomorrow?
Y/n
Hey
No.
Charli
Stop being annoying
Y/n
The first sight you can see is my house
Charli
Fine
See you at 8am 😏
Y/n
Do not come to my house at 8am Charlotte Grant
Hello
Charli?
I’m serious
That is still night time.
Fine I’ll see you at 8am
You’d never been one for mornings. Early morning starts last season consisted of Katrina physically pulling you out of bed. But now, Niamh had taken over that job. But you got yourself up this morning to see Charli, and Niamh thought she was seeing things when you arrived into the kitchen at 7:30am.
“Am I dead?” She asked.
“I’m going out” you informed her.
“I just can’t believe you got yourself out of bed” Niamh laughed. “Are you meeting someone?” She asked.
“Yeah, Charli” you replied as she smirked and began to say something. “Don’t start, it’s too early” you huffed as she remained quiet. Niamh was the one that answered the door when it knocked, an equally nicely dressed Charli stood on the other side.
“Hey, you must be Charli” Niamh smiled.
“Yeah, it’s Niamh, right?” Charli said as your best friend nodded.
“Y/n is just in the living room. I think she may have fallen back asleep” Niamh laughed. “Be my guest at waking her up. It’s a daily struggle” Charli walked into the living room, where she found you asleep sitting up on the sofa.
“Y/n” she hummed softly while she gently rocking you.
“Mmm?” You mumbled.
“You still okay to come out?” She asked as you nodded and opened your eyes.
“Next time we go out we’re doing it at night time” you groaned as the blonde giggled.
“Would you rather spend the day in?” She asked. You debated it for a minute, but you’d actually planned to take her to some nice places, so you shook your head.
“Nah, we’ve got things to see” you smiled, rubbing your eyes and standing up. You took her to all the tourist attractions that didn’t cost a bomb. You also took her on the tube, and explained the different lines and how they worked. You actually had a really nice day.
“Any suggestions for food? I am starving” she mentioned as you walked back towards the station.
“Why don’t you come back to mine? I think Niamh’s made dinner” you suggested.
“Would she mind?” Charli asked.
“She usually cooks big portions” you laughed. You and Niamh both ate a lot of food, so you usually cooked to serve 6-7 people. You brought the girl back to your house, where Niamh had cooked and was more than happy to whip out another bowl for Charli.
“You want to stay and watch something? I can drop you back later if you’d like” You asked as Charli smiled and nodded. “I can go get you spare clothes, just so you’ll be a bit more comfortable” you said, putting your food to the side and jogging upstairs.
“So, how are you finding London?” Niamh asked Charli while digging into her food.
“Yeah, it’s definitely bigger than I imagined” she laughed.
“Yeah it is” Niamh nodded. “It’ll get easier” she reassured her. “Especially when you’ve got a personal bodyguard” she laughed.
“What do you mean?” Charli asked.
“Hello?” You mumbled when you answered the phone, coming down the stairs with spare clothes in hand.
“Y/n Cooney-Cross, where is Charli?” Katrina snapped down the phone.
“In my house?” You frowned. “Is everything alright?” You asked.
“She was meant to be home over an hour ago” she huffed.
“Sorry that’s my bad” you lied. “I will drop her home in about an hour, we’re just having dinner”
“Okay” Katrina sighed in relief that her other child was safe. “Also, while I have you, can you mind Harper tomorrow for a few hours?” She asked.
“Yeah of course” you smiled. “Everything alright?”
“Clara just has an appointment in the morning” she sounded stressed. Expanding a family was stressful.
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then” you nodded.
“Great, I’ll bring Harper over to you at about 8”
Fantastic.
You got back into the living room with clothes, as both girls instantly fell silent. They seemed to be caught up in a very intense conversation that fell flat the second you got into the room.
“Here, you can get changed in my room” you said, handing Charli the clothes as she took them from you and headed to your bedroom to get changed. “I hope you don’t mind, I have to look after Harper in the morning” you told Niamh.
“It’s no issue” she smiled. She knew you idolised Katrina and you loved Harper as if she was your real sister. “But I will throw that child on you tomorrow if you are not awake when they get here” Niamh laughed.
“You won’t need to” you reassured her, but you really couldn’t offer any type of reassurance great enough to Niamh that she’d believe you.
“Your clothes are too big” Charli laughed as she came back in with your clothes looking baggy. KCC was small but y/iCC was big. Your heart dropped when you saw her in your clothes.
“Niamh might have something better” you stutter as you stood up but Charli grabbed your hand and squeezed it.
“It’s fine” she smiled, as you both sat back down next to each other. “I would much rather be in your clothes” she whispered. You grinned to yourself and hit play on the TV again and the three of you continued to watch the show.
“I’m gonna hit the hay” Niamh yawned when the show ended.
“It’s 9pm?” You laughed.
“Which is why it doesn’t bother me when I need to get up before 8am” Niamh smirked. “Make sure to clean up before you go to bed”
“Alright mum” you teased as Niamh headed off to bed. “Wanna go home?” You asked the girl sitting next to you.
“Can I stay for another while?” She asked and you nodded with a smile. You changed what was on the TV to a movie. Your issue with sleeping wasn’t limited to being difficult to wake up, you also fell asleep extremely quickly. Charli had also drifted off, letting her head fall ontop of yours that had already fallen onto her shoulder.
“Actually-” Niamh said as she re-entered the room, but stopped herself when she noticed you were both asleep. She got a blanket and put it over the two of you and sent Katrina off a message to let her know that you’d both fallen asleep and it was fine for Charli to stay. Katrina and Niamh kept in touch, like two mums co-parenting a child. You being the child in the scenario.
-
You woke the next morning to Charli asleep beside you and your arm wrapped around her waist. She was also dressed in your clothes and looked adorable, tucked up against you.
“Cha cha” you mumbled.
“Only Harper calls me that” she laughed.
“Yeah, well Harps is going to be here soon” you shrugged.
“Oh, Harper is already here” Niamh said as she came in with the toddler who demanded to be lifted up onto the couch that you and Charli had made into a make shift bed.
“Hey Harps” you smiled picking her up and plonking her in between you two. “Where’s mummy?” You asked.
“Mummy is gone. Mummy is angry with Y/n for being asleep, isn’t she Harper?” Niamh smirked as the toddler innocently nodded. “She said she’d be back around 2” Niamh nodded as she shuffled off to make breakfast.
“Movie day or London day?” You asked the toddler.
“London day” she shouted back.
“Okay, give me 5 minutes” you smiled as you picked her up and spun her around like an airplane before you dropped her beside Charli and got up to get changed.
“What’s a London day?” Charli asked.
“Oh, it’s when we go out and do something” you shrugged, leaving the room before wincing at your bluntness. “Would you want to come?” You asked, sauntering back into the room and seeing the girl smile. “Is that okay Harper? If Charli comes too?” You asked the already nodding toddler.
Charli got changed into her outfit from yesterday again. You grabbed a few slices of toast and gave Charli your car keys.
“No, I want train” Harper said, shaking her head and stomping her feet.
“Okay, okay, no car” you replied, pointing to the rack where you usually left them for Charli to put them back up.
The three of you headed out, and Charli could have melted with how good you were with Harper. The little toddler practically spent the entire day on your shoulders, or holding your hand. You’d do anything that child asked you to do, and that is why Katrina trusted you with her. You’d let Katrina know that you’d meet her back at her own house, to save her coming to yours.
“Come on, let’s get your mummies something before we bring you home” you smiled, tugging the little girls’ legs who was sat happily on your shoulders.
“This” Harper shouted, pointing at a bouquet of flowers as you made eyes with the awaiting florist. She was an attractive blonde, and definitely your type.
“Could I grab these, please?” You asked as she smiled at you.
“Of course. I’ll get them wrapped up for you” she picked them up and took them to the desk. “Is she yours?” She asked, eyes falling to Harper who was now on the ground yet firmly holding onto your hand.
“No, my little sister” you chuckled.
“She’s so cute” she giggled, “Are these for someone special?” She asked you, but Harper answered anyway.
“Mummies” Harper shouted, making grabby hands for the bouquet, making both you and the florist laugh. Charli watched on as the girl clearly was flirting with you, but you seemed oblivious. You paid for the flowers and headed out of the shop. With Harper back on your shoulders, you needed to hang on to her, so you handed Charli the bouquet of flowers. You liked how natural it felt handing her them. You noticed how happy she looked being handed them, even though she knew that they weren’t for her.
“You know she was flirting with you?” Charli laughed, but inside she was not laughing.
“Oh, uh, I don’t think so” you shook your head. You didn’t really care to look at other girls. It had always been Charli, ever since you first met her.
“You’re oblivious” she rolled her eyes.
“I just don’t care” you shrugged.
“Why? Do you have a girlfriend?” She asked.
“No” you shook your head. “There’s just nobody else that I find attractive” you said, hoping the girl would get the hint.
“Good” she replied, quietly. You were silent on the journey home. You got back to Katrina’s house, stopping in quickly to say hello and to make sure Harper didn’t destroy the flowers before they got to Clara and Katrina. “Thank you, for last night and today” Charli smiled.
“It’s no stress” you reciprocated her smile. You walked towards the door as Charli’s heart dropped. Maybe you were just oblivious when people tried to flirt with you. “Charli?” you said when you got to the door.
“Yeah?” She replied.
“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” You asked.
“Um, no. Why do you ask?” She blushed.
“Would you maybe-” every ounce of confidence you had gained was gone now, but when you caught her eye it all came rushing back. “Would you maybe want to go out?” You stuttered.
“Like, on a date?” She asked and you nodded. “Yeah, I would love that” she smiled.
“Cool, I’ll pick you up then at 7?”
“7am, right?” She teased. You playfully rolled your eyes and left the house, practically running home to go to sleep so it would be tomorrow.
“Did I hear that correctly?” Katrina smirked.
“Hear what?” Kyra asked, coming through the door.
“Y/n just asked Charli-” Katrina began.
“If I would rather Chelsea or Arsenal” Charli blurted out to interrupt Katrina.
“And what did you say? You better have said Arsenal because there is no Australians on the Chelsea team” Kyra protested. Everyone looked at Kyra with their mouths open, wondering if she was being serious. “Like, at Arsenal, you’ve got me, Steph, Caitlin. Who even plays for Chelsea?” Kyra pondered.
“Y/n/n” Harper shouted.
“Sam” Katrina added.
“A bunch of nobodies. That’s who” Kyra protested, storming upstairs. Katrina waited until she heard Kyra’s door shut to turn back to Charli.
“I don’t want to tell her” Charli whispered.
“As long as you both understand how much more complicated it gets if you don’t” Katrina said as Charli nodded. “Thank god you’re not my real kids” she chuckled leaving the room.
“If they were ours then two of them going on a date would be pretty awkward, no?” Clara laughed.
You basically busted through your own front door, bypassing the living room where Niamh was and going straight to the kitchen. You opened the fridge and grabbed some leftovers of Niamh’s cooking before joining her in the living room.
“You’re late” she frowned.
“Sorry I missed curfew again mum, please don’t ground me” you teased.
“Oi, that’s mine” she shouted at the bowl in your hands.
“What’s mine is yours, and what’s yours is mine Niamhy” you smirked, taking a forkful of food into your mouth as she groaned.
“Wanna do something tomorrow then?” She asked.
“Yeah, I’m free in the morning” you shrugged.
“As if you’re going to get up in the morning” she laughed. “Are you minding Harper or something later on?” She asked.
“Uh, no” you shook your head. “I have a date”
“A date? Does this mean you’re finally getting over your little sister’s best friend then?” Niamh laughed, picking up the remote to change over to the show you had been watching together. But when you didn’t respond, she knew by the look on your face who the date was with. “Your date is your little sister’s best friend” she sighed as you hummed. “Shit man, did you tell Kyra?” She asked.
“No, fuck no” you shook your head frantically. “She would ruin it”
“It’s your funeral” Niamh shrugged. “On the other side of things though, I am happy for you. I know you like her and she clearly likes you” Niamh smiled.
“Yeah, yeah just put your stupid show on” you laughed.
“It’s our show” Niamh protested before flicking it on. Like usual, you were asleep in seconds.
-
“Which friend?” Kyra asked as Charli got ready for your date. “A friend or a special friend?” She teased, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Why does it matter?” Charli groaned.
“So it’s a special friend then” Kyra smirked
“It’s just a dinner” Charli hummed.
“Well, I wanna meet them. Do I know them? Is it a guy? A girl? Do they play football? What club do they-” Kyra began firing out questions.
“Kyra enough, please” Charli sighed. “It’s a nothing with a nobody”
“Alright, if you say so” Kyra grinned, clearly up to something. “But if he, she or they don’t have you back by 11pm they’ll have to answer to mum” she skipped into her room and got ready herself. She was heading out with her Arsenal team mates tonight. Kyra had thankfully gone out when you arrived to collect Charli. You still had a key but you decided to knock.
“Did you lose your key?” Clara asked with a grin as she opened the door.
“I just thought it would be more respectful to knock” You were clearly anxious, but Clara knew exactly how to calm you down.
“Harper, guess who’s here” she shouted as the toddler came flying towards you out of nowhere.
“Y/n/n” she squealed as you picked her up.
“Harps” you chuckled, squeezing her tightly as she clung to you just as tight.
“That’s for you, kid” Katrina smiled at Charli who was applying some make-up in the mirror.
“Jesus, I am so nervous, my hands are sweating. Do you think it’s normal how sweaty my hands are?” She held them out as Katrina grabbed them, ignoring how sweaty they were to make it seem like it was in fact normal.
“Hey, listen to me. It’s okay to be nervous. I know she is too. But you both really like each other” Katrina reassured the now nodding girl. “After you” she gestured towards the door. You stood with Harper in your arms as you looked up to the shuffling noises from the top of the stairs. You couldn’t think straight when you saw how good she looked
“Holy fu-” you began but Clara nudged you into the arm. Hard enough to stop the next word leaving your mouth, but not too hard that you would drop Harper. You placed the toddler on the ground, before fixing your jacket.
“Hi” Charli smiled.
“Hey” you grinned. “Ready?” You asked as she nodded. She headed outside, as Katrina pulled you back.
“Good luck” she smiled, and gave you a quick hug. You waited for the door to close before you said what you’d been thinking.
“You look really nice” you smiled.
“Thank you” she beamed. “You do too” she added with a giggle. You took Charli to a fancy restaurant in central London and invited her back to your place afterwards, which she accepted. It was late when you’d gotten back to your house as you’d stayed after dinner to have a few drinks, you were drinking the non-alcoholic ones due to having the car.
Niamh was already in bed when you’d got home. You hadn’t been on your phone at all tonight as you were too caught up having a nice time with Charli. You’d missed Niamh’s message letting you know that Kyra was staying with you tonight because she forgot her key to Katrina’s, but had her one for your house. You’d went to get Charli spare clothes again, as she settled on the couch waiting for you to come back. She was finding something for both of you to watch when you came back with clothes. She headed to your bedroom to quickly get changed, while you grabbed some snacks from the kitchen. “These are so baggy” Charli giggled as she came in dressed in your clothes.
“You decide on a film?” You asked as she nodded and pulled you by the hand onto the couch. “Just keep it low, Niamh’s in bed” you said before she pressed play. The movie played lowly in the background, but it was merely background noise. Even after talking all through dinner and drinks, you just wanted to keep talking to her. “I meant to ask, did you like the place that we went to?” You asked as Charli smiled.
“Yeah, the food was really good. Thank you a lot for paying too, you didn’t need to do that” She was lightly tracing her fingers along your hand.
“Don’t be silly” you shook your head. “I asked you out, didn’t I?”
“I didn’t think you liked me, like that” Charli mumbled.
“I’ve liked you for a really long time, Charli” you stuttered out. It didn’t take long for the confidence to pick up and you leaned in to kiss her. She kissed you back, instantly. It got fairly intense, pretty quickly, mainly due to the fact you’d both been hung up on each other for years. She swung a leg over your lap and placed her hands to the back of your neck, while yours fell to her thighs. Your hands had just started to tug up the Chelsea T-shirt she was wearing.
“The fuck is this” Kyra demanded as you instantly broke apart. You were a bit shell shocked why your sister was here as you hadn’t seen Niamh’s message.
“Ky” you began, placing Charli back onto the couch and standing up.
“She’s my best friend” she shouted. You desperately tried to calm her down while also trying not to wake Niamh. Caitlin and Steph came through the door to make sure Kyra got in okay, only to walk into what was unfolding. “You’re both fucking dickheads. You’re meant to be my best friend and you’re meant to be my sister” Niamh was up now too, jogging downstairs.
“Kyra, come on” Caitlin frowned as she shoved the girl outside your house, deciding to take her to stay with her and Katie.
“Are you two okay?” Niamh asked as you sunk into the couch beside Charli.
“If it’s any consolation, honestly loving this” Steph smiled pointing to you two.
“Take me home” Charli said to Steph as she got up.
“Wait, Charli-” you pouted trying to reach out for her. But she was gone, Steph following off behind her after rubbing your shoulder and closing your front door.
“Shit man” Niamh grumbled as she brought you in for a hug. You didn’t really know what to do or what to say. You just stood rooted to the spot and felt numb. She eventually got you settled on the couch as she headed into the kitchen to make you tea. You were sat in the exact same position, hunkered up and staring at the wall when Niamh got back. “Here, mate” Niamh said, handing you a mug of tea.
“Thanks” you mumbled, taking it from her hands.
“It’ll all work out, you know?” Niamh smiled sympathetically and placed a hand on your shoulder. You just nodded unconvincingly as the two of you sat in silence and stared straight ahead.
“Can you just put something on TV?” You grumbled as Niamh nodded and hit it on. She usually sat on the armchair, beside the couch, but sat beside you now, and put her head on your shoulder. That’s how the two of you drifted off to sleep. Niamh was a good mate.
-
Caitlin had dropped Kyra back to her house the next morning, while Charli had ended up staying with Steph, and was still there.
“Morning sunshine” An oblivious Katrina smiled as Kyra pushed by her and went straight upstairs. “Caitlin?” Katrina frowned as to why her fellow Aussie teammate was stood in front of her.
“Morning” she groaned.
“Start talking” Katrina snapped. Caitlin explained everything very quietly so that Kyra couldn’t hear them talking. Katrina knew she had her work cut out for her. She thanked Caitlin for looking after Kyra and getting her home safely before she headed up to Kyra’s room and knocked. “You okay?” Katrina asked the young girl who was hunkered up on her bed.
“Did you know?” She asked. “About Y/n and Charli” she added to clarify what she meant, although Katrina knew what she meant.
“I knew they were going on a date” she nodded.
“Why would you not tell me?” Kyra groaned.
“It’s not my place and they asked me not to. They were both scared to upset you”
“How could they do this? Charli is meant to be my best friend and Y/n is my sister” Kyra huffed.
“Have you spoken to either of them?” Katrina asked as Kyra shook her head. “They really do like each other, I think you should talk to them”
“And what? Give them my blessing? I don’t think so” Kyra shook her head.
“Stop acting like a child” Katrina warned.
“What if they break up? I’ll lose my best friend or my sister. Or what if they both don’t talk to me?” Kyra pouted.
“But what if it works?” Katrina argued. She could tell that sent Kyra into a spiral so decided to leave her with her thoughts. “Come and get tea when you’ve settled” Katrina said before slipping out of the room and down the stairs. Niamh had convinced you to go and speak to Katrina, as she knew Katrina would be able to help process your thoughts a bit better. So, when you got to Katrina’s, it was just unfortunate the first person you met was a mopey Kyra coming downstairs.
“What do you want? Your girlfriend isn’t here” Kyra huffed.
“I just came by to-” you began before she cut you off.
“I don’t want to hear your stupid fucking apology” she shouted, a bit too loudly for a certain toddlers ears.
“Kyra” Katrina shouted. “Both of you give over. Now”. Kyra stomped back upstairs before stopping and turning to look down at you.
“I’m never going to be okay with it” she slammed her bedroom door and never came back out. Your body tensed up in a way it never had before. You felt like the worst person and the worst sister on the planet.
“You okay?” Katrina asked as you nodded.
“I’m sorry for shouting with Harper here” you mumbled.
“It wasn’t you” Katrina pouted at how visibly upset you looked and tried to reach for your arm.
“I need to, uh, get home” you shook your head and pulled away from her.
“Y/n/n” Harper shouted as your fingertips gripped the door handle. “Movie day, movie day” she demanded.
“Not today, Harper” Katrina cooed picking her up and the toddler pouted, making grabby hands for you to take her out of Katrina’s arms.
“Do you want to do movie day with me and Niamh?” You asked as the little girl nodded frantically. “Is that okay with mum?” You turned to Katrina.
“Only if you promise to cheer Y/n up” Katrina smiled, squishing Harper’s cheeks gently.
“Y/n/n sad?” Harper poked your face.
“Not anymore” you smiled, squeezing her cheek as she giggled and pulled your neck tightly for a hug.
You took Harper back with you to have a movie day in your house, which Niamh was more than happy to take part in. It also got Harper out of the house so when a certain blonde got home, no child had to be a witness to the screaming match that was bound to take place. Charli got home shortly after you’d left, with a concerned Steph following her in to talk to Katrina. Charli immediately ran upstairs to her bedroom.
“Mini, I wish I could describe the look on Y/n’s face when Charli left” Steph began.
“I don’t know what to do with them all” Katrina sighed.
“I’m glad they’re your kids and not mine” Steph chuckled. “Speaking of your kids, where is your actual one?”
“She’s over with Y/n and Niamh. I’m going to leave them two to work it out without little ears around” Katrina informed her. Not too long after Steph had left, Katrina and Clara also headed out, to give Charli and Kyra some space. Charli had just sat in her room all day watching reruns of shit TV when she was eventually disturbed by a knock on the door.
“Hey, uh, can we talk?” Kyra grumbled. Charli nodded and sat up on the bed as Kyra sat on the bottom. “Are you and my sister like-”
“It’s nothing” Charli shook her head.
“I didn’t walk in on nothing” Kyra frowned.
“It was one date and one kiss. It meant nothing. It won’t happen again” Charli was of course lying about it meaning nothing, but was trying to make peace. “So we’re fine, right?” Charli pouted.
“Yeah, it’s cool” Kyra nodded. “So, are you two like friends still?” She asked.
“We’ve always just been nothing, she’s just your sister” Charli shrugged.
You on the other hand, found it better to just avoid the two of them. You’d stopped coming by the house and just ignored Kyra’s calls or texts. You decided not to go back to Australia for Christmas, instead spending it with Niamh’s family after a lot of pestering that you couldn’t be alone. You’d almost become a different person. You’d barely looked in Kyra’s direction when you’d played her a few weeks ago in the league. Kyra did try to approach you to say hello but Niamh had interrupted to let her know it probably wasn’t the best idea. When it came to playing against Charli, you didn’t stick around after the game at all. You were too afraid to even look at her.
Kyra felt as though she was going crazy. Her fears of losing you were happening and nothing serious had even happened between you and Charli. So, your real mum and adopted mum had given Kyra some kind of a pep talk to try to fix things with you. And she did it in the only way she knew would make you agree to spend time with her.
“London day” Harper squeaked as she jumped on your bed while you were still asleep.
“Harps” you groaned, picking up your phone to check the time.
“She wanted a London day with her big sister” Kyra chuckled and startled you a bit.
“What are you doing here?” You frowned.
“London day” Harper demanded as you and your sister caught each other’s eye and laughed. You got changed quickly, lifting Harper up on your shoulders where she happily sat for the whole day. On the way back, you stopped into the same florist you had the day with Charli.
“Oh, look who’s back” the florist smirked as you came through the door.
“Harper, say hello” you smiled, squeezing her legs. The toddler gave a quick wave before giving you a tug to let you know she wanted to be put down. She walked around with Kyra to pick some flowers.
“You’re so cute with her” the girl mentioned with a flirty tone.
“Oh, uh, thanks” You laughed nervously.
“These flowers aren’t for someone special this time, are they?” She hinted as you shook your head. “Would it be weird if I asked you for your number?”
“You want my number?” You said in disbelief.
“Is that okay?” She asked.
“Uh, yeah” you nodded, taking her phone to put your number in. You had to move on eventually, right?
“I’ll text you” she smiled, putting her phone back in her pocket. She took the flowers from Harper and you paid for them, like usual.
“Did you get her number?” Kyra asked when you got outside.
“She asked for mine” you shrugged.
“And what? You just gave it to her? What about Charli?”
“What about Charli?” You frowned. “You said you wouldn’t be okay with it, and we haven’t spoke since”
“But you still like her?” Kyra asked.
“Feelings don’t just go away over night” you shrugged.
“It’s been four months” Kyra pointed out.
“Well I’ve really liked her for years so sorry for still feeling-”
“Years?”
“It doesn’t matter Kyra” you huffed.
“No but it does” she said softly.
“When I heard she was moving to London, I really thought it might happen” you sighed. “But it doesn’t matter, I don’t want you upset or-”
“Years, huh?” She asked and you nodded. “Harper, we got the wrong flowers” Kyra playfully pouted. “These aren’t mummies favourites, whose are they?” Kyra smirked.
“Cha cha” Harper giggled.
“Let’s go back” Kyra said, taking Harper from you and handing you the flowers. “Go tell her” Kyra smiled.
You stood puzzled before she shoved the flowers harder against your chest.
“You’re sure?” You asked as Kyra nodded with a smile, turning off with Harper on her shoulders now. You took off on a run towards Katrina’s, hoping that Charli would be home. And strangely, she was the only one home. She was startled by whoever was here. They had just burst through the front door and she got up to check who it was.
“Y/n?”
“Hey” you mumbled.
“Katrina isn’t here” she replied instead of greeting you.
“I came to see you, actually” you practically whispered. She didn’t answer so you just continued. “Listen, Charli, I really like you and I have liked you since the day we first met. I get this is awkward with Kyra and everything, but I want us to be something, even if that’s just friends” you stuttered out. She hadn’t said anything, and like the idiot you were, you were gearing up to say something else, which she seemed to sense because just as you opened your mouth to speak again, she stepped forward to put her lips on yours. You both melted into the kiss. This one a lot more gentle than the previous one you’d shared. “So you want to be friends then?” You smirked.
“So badly” she teased, kissing you again. “But what do we say to Kyra?” She winced.
“She’s surprisingly now on board” you shrugged. “Oh, these are for you” you smiled, handing her the flowers that had firmly stayed in your hand since you got here.
“Just to be clear, we are more than friends now, right?” She asked as you nodded and kissed her again.
“Jesus, not infront of the baby” Kyra shouted, covering Harper’s eyes as they came through the front door.
“Come on Harps, let’s go start dinner” you smiled, as the toddler came running after you towards the kitchen.
“That didn’t take long” Kyra laughed as Charli rolled her eyes playfully. “Come on, let’s help your little girlfriend make dinner then” she smirked as they headed towards the kitchen.
Funny enough, Kyra never had to worry about you and Charli breaking up.
