the actress & the athlete | sam kerr

thirteen

a/n: hey y'all!!! 💙 I'm back. I hope you're all doing well. thanks for coming back. little side note, I'm seeing chelsea in november. can we all scream?

this chapter is a little spicy in the first half, if I had to rank it like a nando's it would be hot, 18+ is advised and if you don't like that kind of thing I totally understand, feel free to scroll down to the 11th paragraph. enjoy 😗

cw: strong sexual language and intimacy.

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can you celebrate by doing nothing at all? sheva found herself yet again in number 20, the room sam called dibs on in one of many frantic pre-match superstitions. a room she once couldn't differentiate from the one she was given, was slowly becoming their shared space. you couldn't miss the glimmers of green and gold matilda's merchandise here and there, but they were hidden between sheva's ghd's (which maybe shouldn't have been plugged in all day), her colossal yet still bulging celine makeup bag and a mountain of tabloids stacked between her script for score.

they topped and tailed on the freshly made california king bed, mostly enjoying the comfortable silence on the week ending day. and what a week it had been. this time last week, sheva had been driving on the other side of the road down rodeo drive, the heat basking on her face as she cruised past palm trees and designer handbags. now she was wearing fluffy socks to compensate for the fact she had become acclimatised to only wearing a top to bed, today's choice being a recognisable look.

it wasn't fendi or prada or versace draped over her that night... oh no. it was the famous sapphire chelsea shirt that neatly hugged her curves, proudly sporting "kerr" and the number 20 on the back. the duo had a meaningless debate of convincing each other that it was just much more convenient for sheva to wear sam's clothes that night, since her's were dripping in champagne. what they failed to bring up is that sheva had a paris fashion week worthy wardrobe that was abandoned, about 30 steps away in another room. let's face it, sheva liked feeling closer to sam and sam liked the look of her name living between the starlet's shoulder blades.

"you look beautiful," sam managed to get out in her total heart-eyes state as sheva vacated the bathroom with her wine scented clothes in hand. she was looking down at the floor, blushing to herself in a protest of not lifting her face to show sam the effect she had on her. sam, who was originally sat by the bedside table where her phone was charging, turned herself to lay across the bed and reach out to grab sheva's hands, looking up at her shy face. "you're perfect."

sheva couldn't bring herself to respond, she bent down to kiss sam who wrapped her arms around the bashful woman in front of her.

"I need you baby," sam once again being the only one with the courage to be vocal. through desperate kisses, sheva lifted the shirt that sam had loaned her but sam pulled it back down, "no, stay like that for me baby." it was turning sam on being so possessive, and the named shirt was a symbol of just that. sam lifted herself up with a press-up motion and slightly towered over sheva, despite her own petite frame. she planted a kiss on her silky blonde head, where her short beach waves formed and lifted her head up to meet her eyes. the chestnut colour surrounding sam's iris resembled more of a molten orange under the strong warm light and pierced through the forest of mossy green bordered by mascara on sheva's face.

sam grabbed sheva's ass, who was now desperately whimpering in her ear. she removed sam's oversized t-shirt, and her bra just as fast while their tongues frantically battled in the motion, sam's fingers edging closer and closer to sheva's entrance in her white lacy thong, which perfectly complimented the jersey.

"sammy, babe. please-" she was aching. "I need you inside me."

sam had considered teasing her and making her beg, but she was just as eager to hear the american girl moaning in her ear once again, so she obeyed. "get on the bed for me, angel."