Chapter Text
The sound of blood rushing through her veins and her heavy breathing is the only thing Jess McCready hears as she stands in the center of a field, the net of her stick back to back — nothing but a ball and the sheer force between them — with the girl currently giving her the biggest death stare known to mankind. Even so, Jess can all but guarantee hers is worse. If not for her mouthguard, she would probably be sporting an arrogant grin just to mess with her, but she’ll settle for the daggers in her eyes instead.
It’s the last quarter of their last game before they may or may not make it to nationals, her team is winning but only by one point and this really isn’t where she wants them to be right now. She’s taller than her opponent although not by much, so she’s content to shove the ball towards her other midfielder, Ana, who is nodding softly at her once their eyes meet — an understanding not meant to be seen by any others. The only issue is going to be the defender on the line to Ana’s left. She can deal with the midfielders easily, but Ana is heavy on her left and number seven — her jersey reads Garcia — has had that side of the field on lockdown. There’s still time before the whistle blows, so Jess nods to her right. It’ll be a harder toss since Jess’s stick is facing the left, but she’ll have to make it work. Ana moves towards the center, almost directly behind her opponent, and Jess readjusts her grip.
The whistle blows and Jess wins the battle of strength, the ball shooting out to the right where Ana is. She catches it in her net, but it’s not secure and Ana throws it back to Jess before the ball can fully slip out where the midfielder up on Ana can get it. Her elbow juts out to push the other midfielder to the side, an only slightly illegal move that thankfully doesn’t get called. The weight of the ball is familiar in her net, but she has one chance to fully evade the two midfielders advancing on her and that’s to take her chances with Garcia.
Jess pulls her stick down and cradles the ball low so the girl on her right can’t get it before jetting around where their ankles cross and running wide to the left. Garcia is on her before the attacker — one of Jess’s best friends, Jo, — could stop her. Jess had heard mutters of Garcia being an ankle-breaker, something Jess personally prides herself on. It would be nice to see someone who could catch up with her if it wasn’t so frustrating.
Their sticks clash as Garcia’s face is in hers, only their goggles stopping them from completely ramming into one another, the clink of metal against metal causing a rattle in Jess’s teeth. Garcia tries to push up against her stick to get her to lose the ball, but Jess pushes back, trying to hold her elbows in line before she gets yet another yellow card. Out of the corner of her eye, Ana is open, but Jess wants to win this.
She shoves back against Garcia, darting right, but she cuts it too close and catches her in the neck with her elbow. The whistle blows and Jess fights the urge to roll her eyes because the referee is far too close to her. The team pauses and she can hear her coach yelling at her to calm down. The referee points out her mistake (yes—she knows, referee, she plays this sport for a living) and motions for her to take a step back and toss the ball to Garcia. Whatever, she’s just lucky she didn’t get a yellow card. Maybe even the referee knows it was accidental, but the smirk on Garcia’s face is still just as irritating.
Just as the referee takes a step back and blows the whistle, Jess takes a step in front of Garcia and bumps against her stick, keeping it clear of the other woman’s knuckles because another call would kill her momentum more than it already has, so she’s a little gentler than she could have been.
She shoves back enough that the ball is up in the air, having been knocked out of her net before it can even get thrown to an attacker on the opposing team and she can hear Garcia curse under her breath as Jess darts around her and brings her stick down, ball caught against her net, swiping it down and scooping it back up, tossing it to Ana in the same breath.
Garcia runs back, focusing on Ana but not quite leaving Jess’s side entirely just to keep her from being able to catch the ball. A defender catches Ana about ten feet from the goal so she just lobs it into the top left corner. It could have been a good play, the goalie was turned toward the right and would have needed some insane foresight to adjust that quickly, if Ana hadn’t been an inch off and hit the rim of the goal instead. Really, it’s impressive to manage to hit the small, two inch metal pole instead of the goal. Jess can’t blame her, there’s a defender all but spitting on Ana’s face at this moment, but still. It would have been nice.
Jess groans around her mouthpiece, but the play is still on so she reaches one hand up with her stick, catching the high ball with a stability that surprises even herself.
However, it doesn’t last for long because Garcia tries to catch up to her, but the two end up stumbling over each other instead. She hits the ground with a thud, the air leaving her lungs as the other player ends up on top of her, breathing just as heavily. The whistle blows with less than two minutes left in the game and Jess really just wants this to be over.
Her knees are already covered in turf burn from a fall earlier in the game, half her braid is falling out of its knot, and she really needs some water. However, they’re too close to the end for her to even bother asking for a substitution.
“Shit,” she hears Garcia curse, rolling off of Jess with a groan as the referee calls a penalty.
“It was an accident, we can’t just resume play?” Lupe spits out her mouthpiece to ask and she sounds so desperate, Jess almost wants to defend her.
If they resume play and the other team gets the ball, a minute and a half is plenty of time to make a goal and send the game to overtime. If it’s a penalty shot and Jess makes it, that puts them at two points ahead and all hope is lost for the opposing university and Jess can say hello to her second championships in a row. Jess stays silent, she hasn’t even gotten up off the ground yet. Garcia reaches out a hand to help her out, but Jess bats it away as she pushes herself into a standing position, regaining her air despite the ache in her lungs. This Garcia has been the biggest pain in her ass this entire game but no, now she wants to help Jess. Not happening.
The referee steps back to confer with the other before approaching the two of them, “Fine. Keep your positions, no penalty. Number six, it’s yours.”
“Thank you,” Garcia mutters under her breath, taking the mandated three steps back from Jess as she’s tossed the ball and takes her position, one foot back, ready to run.
Jess takes out her mouthguard briefly after the referee steps back so he can’t hear her, “Aw, don’t thank him yet.”
Whistle. Crowd screaming. Clock ticking down. Jess takes a deep breath, taking a few steps back and around the left in order to run the clock. Once it’s down to ten seconds and she’s as clear as she’s going to get, she takes two steps forward, catches Garcia’s eyes and brings her stick back before promptly slamming it down towards the bottom right corner of the goal.
It hits the turf just as the clock hits zero and she swears, she loses hearing from how loudly her team is screaming in her ears. Out of breath, Jess pulls her goggles up onto her forehead and yanks her mouthguard out, not even wiping it off before tucking it under the strap of her uniform. Jo’s arms are around her in an instant and the rest of her team isn’t far behind.
The two teams line up, smacking hands as they go down the line. As Jess reaches Garcia, she claps a hand on her shoulder instead, just briefly, before moving on. She doesn’t know why, it just feels like something she should do.
They’ve played this team before, but this was the first time they’ve done it on their turf in Texas. It’s a long way from Jess’s tiny Minnesota school, but at least it means they get to take a day before they head home instead of shoving into a three hour bus ride the second they get out of the locker room.
The only downside of away games is sharing a locker room with the team whose ass they just kicked. Sometimes, a school is nice enough to have an entire locker room for the visiting team, but most schools don’t really give a shit about women’s lacrosse. Their team enters later than they do, still laughing and smiling and chattering about the upcoming championships, but it goes silent once they cross over into the other team’s turf.
Jess keeps her eyes on her locker as she gets dressed. Her and Jo always understand the locker room shuffle when they end up sharing — not that there aren’t roughly a shit ton of lesbians on their team, that’s not the problem. The problem is that Jo and Jess look the part and some girls don’t like that, so they keep their eyes down.
Still, it seems someone didn’t understand that lesson as Jess pulls her uniform tank over her shoulders, leaving her in just a sports bra and her skirt (do not get Jess started on the skirts). When she looks up, Garcia is watching her, also in a sports bra except she’s ditched her skirt and is now standing in her undershorts — the dark fabric clinging to the skin of her thighs and ass, something Jess tries very hard not to let her eyes linger on. Locker room shuffle.
“Got something to say?” She challenges before she can bite her tongue, taking a step forward, away from her team and towards Garcia.
“Well, I was going to say sorry for the trip,” Garcia bites her lip, raising her hands in mock surrender. Jess lets her eyes rake over her for a moment, catching the hair that trails from her belly button to her waistband over a sculpted stomach. “But if you’re gonna have an attitude, McCready…”
Jess chews her cheek for a moment before holding out a hand, a peace offering. “All right, all right. You played well. I’m Jess, by the way.”
“Yeah, you too, Jess .” Garcia smacks against her hand for a moment before actually taking it. “Lupe. You played well last year in Minnesota, too. Coach almost had to put me on mid today just to watch your ass, but I’m shit at the draw.”
“I coulda told you that, Lupe, ” Jess teases, dropping her hand with a crooked grin on her face. “Also, you really didn’t have to trip me, ya know. If you wanted to get on top of me, you could’ve just asked.”
Lupe takes another step forward, crowding up into her space. Jess cocks an eyebrow, wondering just how far she’ll go with the rest of their team still present. Without the goggles and mouthguard, it’s easy to see how attractive Lupe is. All Texas tan and dark curls reaching just below her chin that she had shoved back with a headband during the game.
“I was gonna chalk it up to an accident, but when you put it like that—”
“Yo, McCready, you coming to team dinner? We’re going to that taco place we passed on the way to the stadium,” Jo comes up behind her and claps a hand on her shoulder. She probably thinks she’s protecting Jess as she glares at Lupe and the thought of Jo of all people not realizing what’s going on is just hilarious. “Can’t believe we’re finally in a state with good Mexican food, I could cry. We’re heading out right now.”
“I still need to shower, I’ll catch up, text you when I’m on my way,” Jess tells her, a subtle way of telling her not to worry, but mainly because she really does need to shower.
The sweat sticking to her skin is driving her crazy and the scratches on her knees are burning still. Really, it’s not even because of Lupe. Except that is kind of is. Jess is no stranger to tiffs with the enemy team, although usually they end in a bloody nose rather than the look Lupe is giving her right now.
Jo squeezes her shoulder before heading for the doors of the locker room, brushing past Lupe with a warning glance before she leaves. Jess just rolls her eyes and turns away from Lupe, grabbing her towel and everyday clothes from her locker, gear bag on the floor beside her with her stick attached to the side.
She watches as Lupe’s eyes fall on the door that Jo just went through, hiking her gear bag over her shoulder before turning to Jess. “Well, good game, yeah?”
For just a moment, Jess’s heart sinks. Maybe she read this all wrong. Lupe is definitely like her in terms of liking women, but maybe she just doesn’t like Jess. It’s fine, Jess can handle a little rejection. There’s always other girls on other teams. Besides, her team would kill her for fraternizing with the enemy anyway.
So, Jess just nods and tosses her towel over her shoulder, about to head for the showers. “Yeah, you played well.”
Lupe nods to her one last time before pushing through the same doors Jo had just disappeared behind moments ago. Jess sighs. At least she gets the locker room to herself for her shower, it could have been worse.
Just as she slams the door to her locker though, she hears the doors open again and there’s Lupe, dropping her gear back to the floor with a fierce look in her eyes. Before Jess can even fully process what’s happening, Lupe’s hand is on her chest, shoving her back against the lockers and their lips are connecting. Jess drops her clothes, towel still on her shoulder as she lets herself be pushed by Lupe. It feels better than the rush of a game or ball in her net as Lupe’s fingers splay against her chest and shoulder, licking into her mouth. Jess remembers how to move not long after they meet, one hand coming up to tangle in the dark, sweaty curls on the back of Lupe’s head.
A hand comes up underneath Jess’s skirt, thumbing at the hem of the skintight shorts beneath it. Not pushing for anything, just resting there. Jess’s skin burns where Lupe touches her, kissing her like Lupe wants to devour her.
“You drive me insane on the field, by the way,” Lupe pulls back to say, the hand on her chest keeping Jess against the lockers. “I swear, you’re a fucking animal.”
“Says you,” Jess spits out, hands absently playing with the waistband of Lupe’s shorts. They really do leave nothing to the imagination and it’s driving her crazy. She can’t remember the last time she wanted a woman to touch her this badly.
Lupe laughs at this, eyes darting back to the door they’re in clear vision of. She tugs Jess deeper into the locker room, peering down the aisles to make sure they really are alone. Jess just leans against the ends of the lockers, arms crossed and watching her with a crooked grin on her face.
“Still need that shower?” Lupe asks her, eyes tracing her form. Jess watches as Lupe’s arms come to her sides, pulling her own sports bra over her shoulders.
In the same motion, Jess tugs her skirt down, leaving it on the tiled floor, but that’s as far as they get before she can’t take it anymore. She grabs Lupe by the waist, hands coming up to her chest as she realizes both of her nipples are pierced. God, this woman really is going to kill her.
“Refs really let you get away with these?” Jess can’t help but tease, biting her lip in a vain attempt to hide how turned on she is.
“What they don’t know won’t hurt ‘em,” Lupe smiles softly, a hand on the back of Jess’s head as she moves her mouth down to circle around the cross of metal and skin. Her skin is salty with sweat, but to Jess it’s as sweet as honey. Her tongue savors the expanse of tan skin, tracing the slight tan lines from her uniform. Jess knows hers are probably worse, her shoulders tinged red from the Texas sun whereas Lupe only gets more golden (as if that was even possible).
Lupe’s hand holds her braid as soft gasps fall from her lips, Jess’s teeth and tongue tugging at her nipples. Eventually, though, she pushes Lupe back. She stumbles, looking confused before Jess tugs her sports bra over her head and her shorts down in two swift motions. The fabric sticks to her thighs going down, but it’s not long before it’s joining her skirt on the floor. Lupe eyes her hungrily as Jess walks past her into the tiled shower stall, turning the water on.
She leans against the wall with one hand beneath the water, waiting for it to heat up. Lupe licks her lips, tugging her own shorts down before joining her in the stall. When the water’s warm enough, Jess reaches for her hips, tugging her beneath the water as their lips meet once more, warm water sliding between them, off their skin and down to the white tile on the floor. It’s not the best place to be doing this, but Jess would have a hell of a time sneaking Lupe back to their hotel considering she’s sharing a room with Jo.
“Wanna — taste — you,” Lupe pants out between kisses, pushing Jess against the tile before sinking down to her knees. It can’t be comfortable, but she doesn’t complain as Lupe’s lips find her hip, pressing a kiss there as Jess watches the water spill down Lupe’s back. God, this is a sight for sore eyes, that’s for damn sure. Jess would get on her knees for Lupe, too, but considering they still have pieces of turf in the torn skin there, it’s probably for the best that things are this way instead.
“Fuck,” Jess hisses out as Lupe bites and sucks a hickey into the taut skin of her thigh. Her pale hand grips the back of her head, wishing she would get to the point but still wanting this to last forever. She’s so turned on, she can’t tell if the liquid between her legs is water from the shower or just her own slick. Before Lupe actually goes down on her, she looks up through heavy lidded eyes, “Jesus, Lupe.”
Lupe’s response is to press her tongue flat against Jess’s clit, the pressure causing her to throw her head back against the tile in a move she knows is going to ache later, but she doesn’t care. Lupe’s hands are tight around her thighs as her tongue laps her up as if she has the sweetest taste, tongue teasing at her entrance but not quite daring to dip further. Jess’s grip tightens on her hair, but Lupe doesn’t seem to mind.
A breathy moan escapes her lips and she has half a mind to be quiet in case someone walks in on them, but the thought is pushed into the back of her mind as Lupe’s nose bumps against her clit in tandem with her tongue. She must be dripping over Lupe’s face at this point, but she’s lapping it up without a second thought, tongue working her to a little death. She was as good with her tongue as she was on the field — Jess can’t help but remember her hot and heavy breaths as the cages of their masks had clashed against one another, the click of their metal sticks against one another, the way Lupe had fallen on top of her.
One of the hands on her thigh leaves its position, two fingers teasing at Jess’s entrance. Her hand squeezes the back of Lupe’s head, nodding frantically. Lupe takes the permission and pushes into her, curling her fingers alongside her tongue in a way that forces a whine from Jess’s lips. Normally she isn’t nearly this vocal. God, Lupe really has a way with her fucking mouth. Jess already knows she isn’t going to last long, not like this. Her legs shake and she probably would have hit the floor already if not for the hand on her thigh keeping her steady. She’s put most of her weight onto Lupe at this point.
“More, fuck, more please,” Jess finds herself begging, her voice breathy and broken.
Lupe listens to her, adding a third finger and stretching them out inside of her. It’s just enough to push her over the edge — the sensation of Lupe’s tongue on her folds, nose against her clit, and three fingers deep is just the right side of too much as she feels herself clench up around her, spilling over the edge.
Her orgasm is lapped up by Lupe’s unforgiving tongue, but it’s not long before Jess’s back slides against the tiles until she hits the floor. Feet against the tile, Lupe sits between her knees, lips and chin shining beneath the fluorescent lights of the locker room. She pulls her fingers out, rinsing them in the water for a moment, and Jess just tugs her into her lap, legs spread out on either side of her hips as she kisses Lupe again. The water spills over the two of them, but she’s hardly paying attention.
Jess’s lips find Lupe’s neck, biting and sucking the skin there, hands still fiddling with the piercings through her nipples. One hand reaches down between the two of them, experimentally pressing her thumb against Lupe’s clit and hearing her hiss in Jess’s ear. She takes this as a sign to tease down her slick folds, feeling the liquid on her fingers that is definitely not water. Lupe nips at her earlobe and Jess just continues further, a finger teasing at Lupe’s entrance before pushing forward with two.
It’s an awkward angle, but the feeling of Lupe grinding against her hips and onto her fingers is more than enough to make it worth it. The tile is too slippery to properly ride her here, but Lupe seems to be doing just fine. Jess pushes up and curls her fingers, hearing the woman whimper against her skin as Lupe’s teeth find the juncture of her neck and shoulder and sink into the skin there. She’s sure her teammates will tease her about any visible marks later, but she’s left Lupe with the same bruising so really, it’s only fair.
“Fuck, Jess,” Lupe’s voice in her ear is intoxicating, murmuring against her skin like a sacrilegious prayer. One of her free hands is cupped around Jess’s breast, thumb brushing against her hard nipple in a way that is making it so much harder to focus.
To make up for her lapse in concentration, she adds a third finger and fucks into Lupe even harder, scissoring out her fingers inside of her and curling them right where she knows it’ll make her preen. With every hiss against her skin, Jess feels a little bit more satisfied with herself. Jess’s free hand comes up to cradle Lupe’s curls, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear as she fucks her quickly and delicately on her fingers. Feeling Lupe fall apart against her is the best she’s felt in months.
The hands on her chest squeezes, Lupe’s blunt nails scraping against her back in a way Jess knows she’ll feel tomorrow. At least it’ll blend with the turf burn on her shoulders, so that’s one less question she’ll get from her team.
“Jess, fuck, I’m close,” Lupe breathes into her ear and Jess only begins to work faster, her thumb pressing against Lupe’s clit as she fucks her. The wet slapping of skin against skin beneath the spray of the water is music to Jess’s ears. Her heart is racing in her chest as she feels Lupe’s walls clench around her, nearing the edge just as she said.
Lupe comes around her fingers and Jess fucks her through it, taking her fingers out just to clean them off with her tongue as Lupe watches her. They probably look like an absolute mess sitting on the floor of a shower that will probably give them a UTI if they sit on the floor for too long.
Jess forces herself to stand up, tugging Lupe with her, both of them using each other to support their weight. She feels boneless, but she knows she needs to rinse off and meet her team before they really start to get suspicious.
“When do you go back to Minnesota again?” Lupe asks as Jess shuts off the water, the drips from the faucet echoing against the walls of the locker room.
“Flight’s tomorrow night, we’re catching a red eye,” Jess tells her, reaching for her towel and tossing it over to Lupe first. She watches with careful eyes as she towels off her curls, water still dripping down her skin as she hands the towel back to Jess. “Why? I think dinner is typically supposed to come before the sex.”
Lupe scoffs at this, walking shamelessly over to her gearbag, her bareness still on display in a way that makes Jess want to grab her by the hips and go for round two. When she looks carefully, Lupe’s legs are still shaking as she reaches into her bag and pulls on her underwear.
Jess marches over to her own bag where her clothes are still on the floor, pulling on fresh underwear and an old t-shirt of one of her brother’s over her shoulders.
“How about lunch, then?” Lupe asks with a cocked eyebrow and a crooked grin. “You did kick my ass today, the least I can do is buy you a meal.”
“I’m swooning,” Jess teases, bringing the back of her hand to her forehead as if she were about to faint. She tugs gray sweats over her thighs, watching as Lupe pulls a shirt over her head. She’s a little disappointed to lose the view, but it is what it is. “Yeah, let’s do lunch.”
“Great,” Lupe still sounds breathless, a devilish look in her eyes as the two of them are now fully dressed, but none of the tension has been lost. Sitting on the bench, Lupe tugs Jess into her lap and their lips find one another once more. When they pull apart, Jess sits there for a moment, thumb grazing Lupe’s bottom lip. “Sorry, wanted one more for the road.”
Jess bites her lip, attempting to fight back the grin starting to form. She crawls off of Lupe’s lap, mourning the loss of the warmth as she reaches into her bag and pulls out her phone and opens the contact page. Tossing it to Lupe, she tells her, “Put your number in. For lunch. And in case you find yourself in Minnesota.”
“Or you in Texas?” Lupe raises an eyebrow, typing in her number before handing the phone back. “Text me?”
Jess just nods, already knowing she won’t be able to resist. Shoving on her sneakers and hiking her bag up onto her shoulder, she gives her a mock salute, back against the door as she readies herself to leave despite how much she doesn’t want to. “Will do. See you tomorrow, number seven.”
Lupe leans back on the bench and smiles, legs spread just enough to tempt her. “See you then, number six.”