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the moon doesn't favour girls

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Adam Lallana felt years of pent-up energy singing in every nerve ending from the moment she stepped on the pitch, clasping the hand of her subbed-off captain, Jordan Henderson, whose jaw was set and eyes were sullenly cast down. LFC Women were down 1-0 to Manchester United and the squad's frustration was a tangible presence as the clock ticked on. But Adam felt light, free, like the ball was an extension of her body, in a way it hadn't for so long, and when Robbo sailed a cross directly to her feet in the 85th minute, she tapped it into the back of the net as coolly as if she'd been doing it every matchday. A howl of joy escaped her as she slid on her knees to the touchline, surrounded by her ecstatic teammates, who embraced her and cheered so for long Sadio had to physically pull them back onto the pitch to play. As Adam ran back into position, she scanned the faces on the bench until she found Jordan, and even though her face was still serious, her shoulders were straighter and her eyes less clouded than before.

It ended up a draw, but Adam had saved the point. She was pulled in front of the cameras with Jordan for post-game interviews, made to stand on a box so she was on a level with her nearly six foot teammate. Jordan remained stern, disappointed in not getting the win, but she still was careful to emphasise how pleased she was for Adam getting her first goal in two and a half years. Adam's dark eyes sparkled and she scrubbed at her face, trying not to smile too hard in the face of Jordan's obvious displeasure. It was a losing battle until she was pulled aside for her solo interview, asked if her goal had made the past two and a half years of injury and frustration easier to swallow. Easier to fucking swallow, she wanted to repeat, but she used everything she had to remain outwardly cheerful and not blatantly lie. “It’s been a tough couple of years. But, yeah, massive, massive point for us.”

Was it easier to swallow after one fucking goal? Was it easier to swallow despairing that she'd ever make a lineup again? Was it easier to swallow months and months of clinical fucking depression?

The bus ride back to Liverpool was less subdued than it usually was after a draw, and Adam found herself in the center of a raucous knot of teammates. She kept glancing back over to Jordan, who was deep in conversation with compact, energetic Milly, the most senior woman on the squad. She couldn’t stay too serious for long, though, with Robbo and her riot of auburn waves and her ear-to-ear grin wrapping herself around her shoulders, big-upping Adam to anyone who would listen while Dejan and Bobby ruffled her hair and punched her arms. By the time they pulled up to Melwood, Adam was floating again. She fairly skipped back to Jordan’s car for their ride home.

“I’m sorry, Ads,” Jordan said as she shifted into drive.

Adam shrugged. “Why’re you sorry? I know it wasn’t the result we needed. I shouldn’t have celebrated so hard, but, you know…” She blushed. “It felt really good. After everything.”

“After everything,” repeated Jordan. “I’m so fucking happy for you. I know what it was like.”

Did she? thought Adam, but laughed. “It felt fucking great. Wish we could’ve won. But I’m still buzzing.”

“You saved the point. You saved the point!” Jordan punctuated the statement by smacking the steering wheel. “I could never be unhappy for that. I’m buzzing, too, I am. I promise.”

Later, when they pulled into Adam’s driveway, Jordan went to say her goodbyes but Adam cut her off. “Come in? Have a drink with me?” she begged, knowing that Jordan didn’t even drink. “You know you’re not going to sleep anytime soon.” So in minutes they were ensconced on the couch, Adam with her cider and Jordan with her mineral water, still in their team tracksuits, the television flickering in front of them. Jordan sat bolt upright at first. Adam reached out and pulled off her hair bobble, gently pulling her golden-brown hair out of its tight braid until it hung in waves almost to her waist and scratching her short nails against the base of her skull, watching her slowly relax. She playfully headbutted Jordan’s shoulder. “C’mon. Game’s over.”

Jordan huffed out a laugh and stretched out an arm. “C’mere.” Adam tipped over and nestled her head in Jordan’s lap, stretching out her legs, kicking off her trainers, bringing one hand up to rest gently on Jordan’s thigh. Jordan reached out a hand and tentatively brushed back a few strands of dark hair from where they’d fallen into Adam’s face, and Adam snuggled in closer. “This is nice. Been too long, hasn’t it?” Jordan hummed in agreement.

The two of them stayed like this for a long moment, their breaths slowing and syncing up with each other, until Jordan looked down at Adam, biting her lip. “Ads,” she said, finally. “I’m sorry, I’m so —”

“Don’t,” replied Adam softly. “It wasn’t your fault I got depressed. It wasn’t your job to cure me.”

Jordan sighed and was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry I missed a year of this. Of you.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

Jordan was rubbing circles into Adam’s shoulder, and her hand then slipped under the sleeve of Adam’s t-shirt, fingers probing at her taut muscles and soft skin. Adam smiled. “Beats the physio by a mile.”

“Missed my calling, didn’t I?”

Adam pulled herself up onto one elbow, her face pink and dark eyes shining. “Thank you,” she said, and before she could talk herself out of it, she tilted her face up and placed her lips to Jordan’s. When she pulled away a few seconds later, she realized she wasn’t sure how she expected Jordan to react, but Jordan didn’t give her too much time to think about it. She wrapped her arms around Adam, pulling her up into a sweeping kiss.

Adam’s lips parted and she kissed Jordan back, easy and warm, and she reveled in the security she felt in Jordan’s muscular arms. She sighed as Jordan pulled back for a moment, looking down at her with shining blue-grey eyes like she was something rare and precious. “I didn’t know —” Jordan breathed.

“I didn’t know, either. Until the last few months. I didn’t want to come up to you out of the blue and say I had feelings —”

“Feelings?” Jordan said blankly.

“Shut up,” said Adam, as she pulled herself up onto her knees, straddling Jordan’s hips.

Their lips met again and they kissed deeper and hotter now, exploring each others’ mouths. Jordan started to move her hands up and down Adam’s arms, moving to her shoulders, then down her ribs and to her hips, playing with the hem of her shirt. Jordan leaned in to brush her lips against the shell of Adam’s ear. “Can I?” she asked, and Adam nodded for a moment before finding her voice. “Yeah, definitely, yeah.” Adam raised her arms and Jordan pulled off her jacket and t-shirt in one motion, discarding them to the side. Jordan leaned in and mouthed at the gentle curves of Adam’s breasts in her sports bra, soon unfastening and discarding that as well. Adam’s nipples hardened once exposed to the air, and Jordan hummed in approval before taking one in her mouth, rolling it with lips and tongue. Adam rolled her head back and let the sensation engulf her.

“Love your tits,” Jordan said after she’d come up for air. “Always jealous of ‘em. So nice.”

“Know who’s jealous? The other tit,” cracked Adam. “She needs attention, too.” Jordan leaned back down and bit down on the other nipple, just hard enough, letting go and soothing it with her tongue once she heard Adam yelp.

“Fuck,” Adam moaned. “You’re overdressed.” Between the two of them, they managed to unzip and peel off Jordan’s jacket, followed quickly by her t-shirt, exposing her tits to the air. Adam backed down to the floor and laced her fingers underneath Jordan’s waistband, looking up silently for permission. Jordan nodded, and Adam slid her trackies down and off. Adam kissed the insides of Jordan’s knees, made to move up and remove her knickers, but Jordan lifted her back up onto her lap. “Plenty of time for that,” she breathed. “Want to enjoy this.”

They made out even harder than before, lips and teeth and tongues pressing and exploring, chest on chest, abs on abs. Adam ground down on Jordan’s thigh, the one with the trophy inked on it, and they both groaned into each others’ mouths. “Gonna ride us? Gonna make a mess of us?” murmured Jordan as she reached down to Adam’s waist, pushing down at the waistbands of her pants and underwear. Adam whimpered and finished pulling off her bottoms, leaving her completely naked, and she hopped back up onto Jordan’s tattooed thigh and reached for her tits, fingers running over the curves of them as she ground her clit down and crashed her mouth back into Jordan’s. Jordan ran her hands all over Adam and pushed her thigh up to meet Adam’s pussy, the two of them finding a rhythm, and soon Jordan was grabbing Adam’s hips hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises just below the tattoos on her ribs, and Adam was making little desperate noises and shaking and she was coming right there, right on Jordan. Adam rode Jordan through her aftershocks, and when Jordan lifted her off and laid her down on the couch, a wet trail ran the length of Jordan’s thigh, dripping over the lines of her tattoo.

Adam could barely move, but Jordan petted the insides of her thighs and she was spreading her legs instinctively. Jordan ran her fingers up and down her slit and she shuddered with sensitivity, but when Jordan pulled her hand back Adam shook her head. “No...no, I’m fine, don’t stop. Please —” and she gasped mid-sentence as Jordan pushed two fingers inside her. Jordan slowly moved her fingers in and out, and the sounds of them in Adam’s vagina seemed to fill the room, to be the only thing Adam could hear over the pounding of her heart in her ears. Jordan added a third finger and started to fuck Adam in earnest, bringing her other thumb down to Adam’s clit to rub it in tight circles. Adam writhed on Jordan’s fingers, overwhelmed with the sensation, and then she was coming again with a deep moan she hadn’t known she was even capable of making.

She pulled Jordan's hand away by the wrist. “I need...I need a break,” said Adam with a shaky laugh. She caught her breath for a minute then sat back up, resting her hands on Jordan's hips. “Jord. Let me eat you out.”

Jordan let out a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that.”

“Lay back. Let me get those off you.” Adam looked down to see an unmistakable dark patch on the crotch of Jordan's underwear. “God, you're already wet and I haven't even touched you yet.”

Jordan huffed out a laugh. “What can I say.”

They kissed messily for a minute, then Adam lay down on her belly and dropped little pecks to the insides of Jordan's muscular thighs until she got twitchy and impatient, then her underwear to one side. “Fuck,” Adam said in an awed whisper, “what a pretty pussy.” She pressed her lips in dry kisses up and down the pink slit until her lips were slick and shiny then ran her tongue the full length of Jordan's vagina. Jordan, breathing raggedly, scrambled to remove her underpants and, once freed of them, hooked her legs over Adam's shoulders.

Adam wasted no time pressing her face to Jordan’s pussy. Jordan was louder and more responsive than she’d expected, every lick punctuated with little moans and “god, yes” and “fuck, Ads!” Adam grabbed Jordan by the hips, pulling her closer, reveling in her softness, her wetness, the faintly sweet oceanic taste of her. Jordan’s cries became more slurred, her hands grabbing aimlessly at Adam’s hair, and Adam pulled off for a moment.

“Hey,” breathed Adam, her face soaked and shining, “I’m gonna just lay back here —” She flipped herself so she was laying on her back with her head propped on the arm of the couch, and she pulled a wriggling, gasping Jordan up toward her face so Jordan was laying down on Adam with her knees hooked over the arm. Adam ran a finger up and down Jordan’s slit, getting it nice and wet, then pulled Jordan onto her face, sucking at her clit as she slid a finger deep into her pussy. Adam flicked her tongue and crooked her finger just so and Jordan was wailing in a way Adam had never imagined in her wildest dreams, crying out Adam’s name over and over as she came on her face and her hand.

When Jordan came back to earth, she flipped herself over so she was laying on top of Adam, face to face. Her leg slipped between Adam’s thighs and Adam lazily ground up into her. “We’ve been at it like rabbits, how are you still horny?” laughed Jordan gently.

“Sorry,” murmured a smiling Adam. “Habit.”

“Give us a bit to get our breath back, at least.”

Adam wrapped her arms around Jordan’s lean, strong frame and buried her face in the crook of her neck. “I’m going to have to see the physio for my neck on Monday. Worth it.”

They huffed little laughs into each other’s mouths and lay like that, skin on skin, breathing back and forth. Jordan inched downward to rest her head between Adam’s breasts and hummed contentedly.

Later, in the small hours of the morning, Jordan asked, “You’re not going to pull away from me again like that? You promise?”

Adam looked at her, eyes full of regret. “Can you just stay close to me even when I’m distant? I can’t promise I won’t ever be depressed again. But I can promise I’ll come back to you.”

“Yeah,” replied Jordan sleepily. “Just come back to me.”

“Yeah.”