Work Text:
“That was good,” you say, trying to catch your breath.
You're spread across the bed, hair sticking every which way, clothes scattered on the floor, and a muscular woman silently in the corner putting her pants back on.
“Can you hand me my shirt?” she asks, ignoring your comment entirely.
You sigh, grabbing her white tank, and dangling it in front of her. “Here.”
“Thanks.” She mutters as she pulls the top over her head. You stare at her, taking in how the tank top presses against her abs that hours of football practice carved into stone. Your eyes drift lower-.
“So…see you later.”
Your eyes snap back up. She’s already reaching for her bag
“Wait.” You sit up from the messed up bed, and walk in front of Abby.
“What? You want money or something?” She smirks, half reaching for her wallet..
You roll your eyes. “No. I was thinking… maybe we should go on a date. Make it official.” You are in Abby’s face smiling ear to ear hopeful for a reply but all you receive is her deadpanned face.
“There’s this amazing pizza place that my friends suggested,” you rush on as you start as you look around for your clothes, realizing how uncomfortable it is to be the only one naked.
“I made sure that they had foods that are friendly to your diet-.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,”Abby says quietly, looking away from you, as you slip some shorts and a t-shirt on.
“You’re right, we can have a date at home. Oh! We can have a movie marathon!” You grab your phone rapidly searching for the most recent top rated movies. “We can also order in the pizza that’s an option too also we can-“
“We can’t!” Abby snaps at you, making your head shoot up from your phone.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. But we can’t date, period.”
“Why not?” Your face scrunches in confusion.
“It’s too much to juggle with the football season.” Abby stutters slightly, not looking at you.
“And having flings isn’t?” You scoff, annoyed by her foolish reasoning.
Abby rubs her eyes with the palms of her hands and exhales sharply. “Ugh, you know what I mean.”
“No I don’t! Explain it to me.” You drop your phone on the bed crossing your arms over your chest, readying yourself for whichever excuse she was going to use this time.
“I don’t have time for this. I need to get to practice or coach is going to be on my ass.” Abby chuckles trying to lighten the mood, but fails miserably.
You stare at her. Disappointed. Again.
She steps closer, cupping your face.“Sweetie, look at me.” Abby says softly. Your body moves on its own, nuzzling into her hand while looking up at her.
“When the season's over I’m all yours. I promise.”
“But you’ve been saying that for the past two seasons.”
“But this time I really mean it.” Her thumb strokes your cheek. “Here I’ll tell you what. I’m gonna be featured on the Dottie show soon. By then the season will be done. Then and there I promise I’ll go public with everything. With my sexuality. With what we are—I’ll claim it all.”
Abby stares at you with those puppy eyes that you can never resist. You know you shouldn’t believe her. But when she looks at you like that, it's impossible not to.
“Ok,” you whisper. “I believe you.”
She kisses your forehead gently. “Thank you baby girl.”
At that moment you thought things were starting to look up, but you were solely mistaken.
❀⋆.ೃ࿔❀⋆.ೃ࿔❀⋆.ೃ࿔❀
“I’ll call you back—Abby is about to be on tv,” you tell your friend before you practically dive onto the couch.
“Ok, talk to you later, bye!” Your friend hangs up and you quickly grab the remote sitting on the table.
You flip through a couple channels until you find The Dottie Show.
“Hello, and welcome back to the Dottie Show! Today we have a special guest. None other than the hottest football player on the planet people—Abby Anderson!”
The crowd erupts in cheers as Abby walks out, confident and glowing under the lights. She smiles and waves at the crowd enticing an even louder response. You're practically drooling when you see her outfit. She’s dressed in a gorgeous floor length, admiral blue dress, with a high neckline, and sparkling sequins that dazzle in the light. Your eyes trail down to the slit in the front of her dress that teasingly stops mid-thigh. The dress is paired with a pair of elegant, shimmering silver heels, with a sparkling ankle strap. Her dark blonde hair is perfectly sculpted into a full bun, with a huge, curled bang pinned to the opposite side of her hair. Some sections of hair were left out framing her face, making her tan skin stand out more. The freckles on her cheeks are lightly coated in a light pink blush, her eyes are lined with black liner and lashes slightly extended with mascara making her blue eyes stand out. A light layer of pink, glittery lipgloss coats her lips making them look even more kissable. She looks untouchable.
You unintentionally squeeze your thighs together, heat pooling between them.
She makes her way towards the chair next to Dottie’s table, sitting comfortably in the seat.
“We are happy to have you on the show.” Dottie says, flashing Abby a smile.
“Well thank you for having me.”
“In this past season alone, you’ve managed to score 30 touchdowns! How do you do it Anderson?” Dottie looks up from her note card at Abby.
“Well with time, dedication, and a coach with a stick permanently up their ass.”
The audience explodes with laughter. You grin, shaking your head at her ridiculous but comedic answer.
“You are something else Anderson. But enough of the boring stuff. Let’s get to the nitty gritty of things.”
“Shoot.”
“So word has gone around saying that you have a little someone on the side.” Dottie raises her eyebrow at the camera, smirking at it. Abby’s smile falters just for a second. Her hand subtly clutches the fabric of her dress. The crowd oo’s making the question more intense.
“Well I’m-,” Abby stutters a bit making your chest clench in both nervousness and anticipation.
She's gonna do it, she’s going to make your relationship public.
“I’m single and ready to mingle.” Abby says before giving a forced smile, while the crowd goes crazy.
Your stomach drops, your heart feels tight as you look at Abby’s smiling face. The promise she made in your bedroom dies on national television, and your love for her along with it.
❀⋆.ೃ࿔❀⋆.ೃ࿔❀⋆.ೃ࿔❀
“Baby I’m home.” Abby walks through the front door dropping her bag.
She has flowers in hand, her dress was discarded for a sweat shirt and sweatpants, and her once carefully sculpted bun now falls freely at her shoulders.
She expected to see your face or hear your voice, but all she is faced with is a silent and still living room. But she expected that after her major fuck up. She walks towards the second room you might be in, the bedroom.
“Hey babe-,” Abby starts but stops when she sees a suitcase angrily being filled by her teary eyed lover.
You look up at her, red eyed, but quickly go back to what you were doing.
“Ok,” she sighs. “You're mad. I get it. I messed up. I didn’t go public like I said I would. And I'm sorry.” She walks closer to you, but you ignore her.
“Say something dammit.” Her voice is gruff, losing all the sincerity she once had and her patience with it.
Something you can relate to.
You zip up the suitcase hard.“I’m done.” You sneer, your face contorting into a deep frown—fresh, hot tears running down your face.
“What? What are you talk-.”
“What else could ‘I’m done’ mean Abby!” You scream. Years of pent up anger and frustration boiling over in that one sentence.
“You don’t mean that you’re just angry.”
“Damn fucking right I am! You lied to me! Again!”
“I said I was sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it Anderson.” Abby flinches at the bitterness that seethes from your voice when you say her name. You haul your suitcase off the bed.
“You’re being really fucking selfish right now!” Abby’s gentle tone wears thin and is replaced with malice.
You laughed,sharp and broke, at the audacity of her statement. “I’m the selfish one?” “Did you know that I canceled family plans with my family for the last 2 years to be there supporting your games?” Abby doesn't say anything, her face stuck in an unreadable expression.
“Or that I sit in this room crying for hours wondering if the real reason you want to keep us a secret is that you're ashamed of me. Trying to convince myself that things will turn out for the best. But I never brought it to your attention, not wanting to distract you from your games.” Your voice wavers, the feelings of worthlessness and self-hatred flooding back to you.
“So tell me how I’M the selfish one.” Abby opens her mouth wanting to say something but just ends up looking like a blubbering fish.
“That’s what I thought. You can NEVER take responsibility. You think you're tough shit just because people chant your name.” You get closer to Abby getting in her face, her jaw clenches.
“Without football, who are you?”
Her breathing grows heavier.
“Nothing,” you sneer.
Her hand moves before she thinks. A crack echoes in the room, and pain heatens your cheek along with it.
Her face drains of color. “Shit, shit, shit, shit. Baby I'm so sorry.” Abby frantically reaches her hand out to cradle your bruised cheek. You flinch, already stepping back with your suitcase in hand.
“Goodbye, Abby.” You walk out of the room leaving the apartment. Her knees give out before she realize she’s sinking. She lays on the floor curled into a ball crying while gripping her hair.
Her phone buzzes on the nighstand—Coach.
But for the first time she lets it ring, not caring about her coach. Not caring about her career. Not caring about what others think of her. All she cares about is you, but you’re already gone.