Scarlett Johansson | One-Shots (1)

Coach Callie Pt. 1

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Scarlett:
5 seconds left on the clock. From just outside the penalty area of the field, Callie kicks the ball, sending it flying through the air. The goalie leaps in an attempt to block it but it's out of her reach. The ball hits the back of the net.

"That's my girl!" I call in the crowds of my wife's soccer game.

"YES CALLIE!" Lizzie screams next to me.

"Let's go!" Chris Evans joins in.

The whole crowd around us blows up, cheering for Callie's amazing goal. Her team runs up to her, congratulating her. The game is called to an end with Callie's team's victory. The two teams file underneath the bleachers to get changed and packed up to leave. As Callie makes her way under, she scans the seats and locks eyes with me, blowing me a kiss which I reach up and grab.

My friends and I wait a little bit before leaving the bleachers. We don't want to take away from Callie's fame, even though I don't think we would. She's huge in the professional soccer world.

"You were amazing!" Chris congratulates Callie when she meets us at the car.

"I'm so proud of you!" I squeal, hugging her tight but quickly releasing because she's extremely sweaty. "You're so sweaty," I giggle.

"Aw, can't handle a little sweat?" She teases, grabbing my face and forcing me into a nasty, salty kiss.

I push her off with a laugh. "No, I can't! That's so gross! Take a shower then kiss me."

"Fine. Nice jersey by the way," she comments on the Callie Johansson-Atwood jersey I'm wearing in support of her.

Our friends laugh at the interaction as we all file into the car to head home.

-One week later-

I wake up to an empty bed and sigh in slight annoyance. I roll out of bed then head downstairs after getting dressed. I expect Cal to be in the kitchen so when she isn't, I let out a disappointed sigh. All my negative feelings go away when I notice Callie in our yard practicing. I make myself a cup of coffee and walk outside to watch.

She dribbles the ball up the yard, twisting and turning a few times until she kicks the ball into her makeshift goal.

"That's my girl," I comment when it hits the back of the goal. She whips around to me with a smile. "That was attractive."

Without saying anything, she collects the ball and dribbles it right up to me. I flinch when I think she's about to run into me but she swiftly dodges me with a twist. She smirks as she runs around me and back up the yard to her goal, once again making a perfect goal.

"How was that?" She asks.

"Perfect. You should teach me how to play sometime."

She stares at me. "Wait really?"

"Yeah, I would love to learn!"

She giggles and runs up to me, taking my cup of coffee out of my hand and putting it down on a small outside table. She drags me into the grass with a huge smile. She darts away to collect her ball, passing it to me with her foot lightly. It stops perfectly in front of me.

"Ready to learn?" She smiles.

"Of course."

"Okay, so we'll start with the basics. Dribbling is simple. Don't kick with your toes, only the inside or outside of your foot and on the occasion, your laces. But mainly the inside and outside of your foot. Watch." She takes the ball and dribbles it around the yard. I watch attentively. "Now you," she instructs, passing me the ball.

I hesitantly take the ball with my foot and attempt to dribble it slowly around the yard. She stays silent except for the few times she yells at me to not use my toes.

"Maybe you'll be good enough to join the team when I'm done with you," she laughs when I come back to her.

She somehow steals the ball from my feet and rolls it up her shin and bounces it on alternating feet as she talks.

"Because footwork is basically the same for everything, I want you to try to steal the ball from me."

"Oh honey, I can't guarantee I'll be able to do that," I chuckle.

"Well, you can steal it in a lot of ways. Taking it without getting yourself a penalty or kicking it out from me as I'm dribbling or just standing with it. It's not as hard as you think, babe. I'll show you." She then drops the ball and passes it to me.

When I possess it, she tells me to run with it, so I do. I slowly wander the yard with the ball. She then comes up to me and swiftly puts the ball of her foot on the ball, stealing it from me. She shoots me a smirk.

"Your turn." She dribbles the ball around as I follow closely, attempting to get it from her. At one point, I go to grab the ball but my ankle locks with hers and she face-plants on the grass.

"Oh my god, babe I'm so sorry," I laugh as I kneel next to her.

"Well, that would be a penalty," she chuckles as she rolls over.

"What do I get for a penalty?" I smirk.

"A penalty kick- Oh, I see," she smirks back, blushing lightly.

She sits up and grabs my face, pulling me into her. Her soft lips interlock with mine for barely five seconds before she falls back, yanking me down with her. I fall on top of her with a grunt. Smiles can be felt between the kisses. We make out in the grass until she pushes up on me and jumps up, leaving me on the ground.

She grabs the ball and dribbles it until she makes another perfect goal. She leaves the ball in the goal and comes back to me with a smile.

"I think I won."

"You may have won in soccer but I won in life," I refute as I get up.

"No, I think I still won," she teases, walking inside.

"I could argue about this all day because I'm clearly the winner here."

"Oh, come here," she coos, grabbing my waist and pulling me into her.

I wrap my arms around her neck and let our lips come together.

"I win," I whisper between motions.

"You win," she whispers back, her smile forming against my lips when she kisses me harder.