Woso Oneshots

Insomnia, Lotte Wubben-Moy.

I feel like we should play a game of Guess the film here because it may or may not be based on a character from one. Very loosely.

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Y/n's pov.

With insomnia, nothing is real. Everything is far away. Everything is a copy of a copy of a copy.

Each day merged into one, and god knows when the last time I slept was.

Then something happened. I signed for Arsenal. I found a family. People who cared about me. A girlfriend.

I found freedom.

I became loved.

Babies, don't sleep this well.

I never thought I'd find a way out. Never thought I'd be able to sleep like this. Being in Lottes' arms saved me.

I didn't feel the need to even tell them about my sleeping problems because they went away as soon as I moved down to London.

And she ruined everything.

Why did she have to sign? Why couldn't she have gone somewhere else?

This bitch, Alessia Russo. She does not want to be here. She's a spy. For united.

I don't trust her. Not one bit.

Ever since she fucking joined Lotte has spent less and less time with me. So has everyone else.

And suddenly, I feet nothing. I don't feel safe. So, once again, I can not sleep.

Tomorrow, after training, after we get changed. I'm gonna grab that little bitch, Alessia Russo, pin her arms against her sides and say...

'Russo, you spy, you big traitor. I need this family. Get out.'

When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep, and you're never really awake. I haven't slept in four days.

It doesn't feel like it. It just feels numb, like nothing could ever make me feel anything ever again. Not even maximum exhaustion.

I guess that's how I'm surviving through training and shit.

'Y/n, are you with us?' I hear a faint Scottish accent as someone's hand waves in front of my eyes.

'Hmh?' I mumble eyes, barely being able to focus on Kim or the rest of the squad in front of me.

'You all good y/n/n?' Leah asks.

'Best I've ever been Le.' Who am I trying to kid?

'Yeah, it looks like it. When's the last time you slept?' She questions.

'Just then, I got bored of your integration.' I groan, packing up my stuff and walking out of the building.

I don't know why I called him. Maybe for a way out. A new safety like the one I felt before Russo arrived.

If you could count battering the living shit out of each other as safe. I think so.

We sit down on the side of the road, bloody and bruised.

'If you could fight anyone...  one on one, whoever you wanted, who would you fight?' He asks.

'Anyone?' I question him.

'Anyone.'

'Russo, probably.' Wouldn't be much of a fight, though. She'd be out from my first hit.

As the weeks go on, this becomes a weekly occurrence. No one seems to notice, and I finally am able to sleep again.