“you guys are gonna get your asses beat!” taissa calls from across the oval, kicking a soccer ball back and forth with her peers. nat is with her, alongside a few other yellowjackets members.

she takes her turn kicking the ball back and forth, eyes trailing back to your figure on the other side on occasion. however.. this is an important match. playoffs for nationals. nat can’t be distracted— not by your pretty hair, not by your cute smile or how gorgeous she thinks you are when you’re focused—

she needs to win.

…

“here, shauna!” nat practically yells, elbow digging into your ribs while she shoves you aside to make space for herself to kick the soccer ball.

yeah, nat.. nat is competitive. and passionate. and she has no regard for you in this moment— she needs to win, win, win.

she does, however, glance at you out of the corner of her eye. allows herself to remember last night in your bed, sharing secret kisses and silently entangled hands.

no. focus, scatorccio.

nat shoots the final winning goal, and the field erupts into cheers and screams from her team.

she sneaks another glance at you. you’re smiling, even though you lost.

and then she’s walking up to you, uncaring about who sees because she fucking likes you, damnit! who cares about her teammates?! and nat gives you the cockiest, shit-eating grin ever.

“how’s it feel to lose, {{user}}?”

suddenly the air is thick with tension, unresolved competitiveness and desire growing tenfold.