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croatian-nt · 6 years ago

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Play a Part(Part three)

First, second part

Summary: Šime is trying to get over Luka and while he appreciates Dejan’s help, after an incident gone wrong, he is starting to realize things might get a lot more complicated with his best friend

Pairings: Šime Vrsaljko/Dejan Lovren, Daniel Subašić/Domagoj Vida mentioned, Luka Modrić/Mario Mandžukić mentioned

Word Count: 4496

Warnings: crying, mentions of cheating, mentions of hitting(can be read as abuse but not explicit)

Notes: This is so so late I know, I am sorry I had a writer’s block and the school started but here it is. Once again thanks to my wonderful beta @wordpuddle for editing this long ass piece and not hating me because of all the typos and ‘saids’ xD. Happy reading everyone ;)

Šime decided to get the hell away from that woman. His head was still spinning and he considered if she could be telling the truth. If she did, why didn't Dejan tell him he had a wife before this mess started? The bad part was, his mind supplied him with memories of Dejan having a bit of a crush on him from the start. What if he just didn't want Šime to know, so seducing him would be easier? Šime pushed those thoughts away. At least for now. He wasn't going to fall apart in front of this woman, who seemed to be enjoying his stunned silence. "He didn't tell you, did he?“ She tilts her head. “I guess it's easier to pick up guys like you if he doesn't say he’s married. But didn't it seem suspicious that he would be with you? Imagine the scandal. A singer having a male lover. Poor you, you must have thought he really loved you." Her cruel words each seemed like a poisoned knife right through his heart. Šime could barely breathe. How could anyone be this cruel? He didn't know. Until today he didn't even kiss Dejan because he wanted to. He had to get away from all this.

"You said your part. Get away from my property," he hissed, turning to unlock his door.

"Enjoy him while you can. It won't last. He always comes back to me," she said, turning a knife in his heart once more. "If you are here when I look out the window, I will call the police. Don't come back." He stared her down and slammed the door behind him. When he heard the clank of her heels as she left, he finally broke down. His legs gave in and he slid down to the floor with his back against the door. A sob escaped him. His head was spinning. He was barely able to catch his breath. Would Dejan really do that? Lie to him for months just to fuck him? Was he some sort of a challenge because he was in love with someone else when they met? Was it- His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. Even before he flipped the phone he knew who the person was because of the ringtone. Luka. Šime's hand was shaking as he held the phone but he just didn't have the energy to resist the temptation of hearing Luka's voice. Before Dejan came along he had been his best friend. And he almost lost him because of his feelings that were always directed at the wrong person. No, Šime didn't have any fight left in him. He swiped to accept the call. "Hello?" he whispered, his voice hoarse from crying. "Šime I know it's late but are you alright? You and Dejan disappeared so suddenly and I was worried," Luka explained, sounding embarrassed. Šime forgot how observant he actually was. Or maybe he just knew him a bit too well. "I am fine Luka. Thank you for calling me," he answered but his voice cracked near the end. Shit. He must have heard that. There was a beat of silence and Šime could hear Luka's breath catch. "Šime, are you crying?" Luka's voice was calm. But it was that calmness filled with tension hidden beneath a façade. Like a wave steadily rolling towards the shore. Always reaching its peak before it comes crashing down. "No I am-" A tear ran down his cheek, interrupting his sentence. Then another one. He tried to put a hand over his mouth to muffle his sobs but he knew Luka still heard it. "Šime? Do you want me to come over?" Luka's voice was much softer now. Šime gave himself a moment to just breathe. Luka didn't say anything else. And then he finally breaks. "Please." He chocked out. "I'll be there in ten," Luka promised before hanging up. Šime tried to calm down with little success. He barely got his breathing under control when he heard a knock on the door. As soon as Luka saw him, his face shifted from mild concern to panicking. Šime's eyes were red and his hair a mess and Luka couldn't remember the last time he saw him this miserable. He opened his arms and Šime practically collapsed on him. Luka was glad that he was strong enough from all the training because it seemed Šime didn't have the energy to hold himself up anymore. He gently guided his friend to the couch in the living room so they sat down. Šime held on to Luka like his life depended on it and Luka's heart broke. He held him until Šime calmed down. " What happened? I have never seen you like this. Please tell me what's wrong." Luka begged. It was like someone cut the brakes and everything that happened just poured out of him, starting from Šime and Dejan breaking into Luka's apartment to Dejan's wife waiting at Šime's door. Luka listened to him carefully, letting him get it all out of his system without interrupting. After he finished with the story, Šime felt so mentally drained that he was half convinced he was going to fall asleep before Luka managed to say anything. "Okay, so I know you are tired and whatever I say right now will just fly over your head. The one thing that I need to say is that you are sleeping in my guest room because there is no way you’re staying here when that woman knows where you live," Luka explained. And Šime was too tired to put up a fight. So he packed some clothes and got into Luka's car. They drove in silence and Šime let all the memories of him and Dejan slowly replay in his head. It was a sweet torture now, when he added the realization that him falling for Dejan was probably inevitable. Being in love with Luka was like being a kid addicted to candy - it wasn't healthy but with a bit of determination you could stop it. Being in love with Dejan? It was like clinging to sweets when someone offers you a cigarette. It seems like harmless fun - something different, but before you blink you can't spend a day without smoking. Falling in love with Luka was slow and sweet while falling in love with Dejan was fast and all at once. When they arrived to Luka's apartment, Mario was waiting in the doorway. Šime couldn't comprehend if he was mad or worried. Then again, Mario always looked mad to Šime unless he was looking at Luka. Šime saw that Luka and Mario did their non-verbal communication again but he was too tired and mentally drained to care. He just went to the direction of the room Luka showed him and quickly changed his clothes. He could hear Luka and Mario arguing but he could only make out few words that didn't make sense to his fuzzy brain. In the end, his tired body gave up and he drifted to sleep. If he dreamed of a singer with dark eyes he wasn't going to say that, at least not out loud.

The next morning he felt a bit better but there was still a weight on his shoulders that he just couldn't shake off. He could hear Luka and Mario quietly talking in the kitchen but as soon as he appeared, they quieted down. Šime felt like he was intruding a private moment. Mario's hand was on top of Luka's and Šime noted with a slight confusion that didn't bother him. If that had happened two months ago, maybe he wouldn't be in this mess. Oh, who was he kidding. The thought of being in love with Luka was the only thing that had stopped him from falling for Dejan earlier. "Morning," he said after a moment of silence. "Good morning. Are you feeling a bit better?" Luka asked, biting his lip worriedly. Šime shrugged. "As much as I can, yeah. I guess it's not every day that you find out your pretended fake? boyfriend has a wife," Šime joked. What he didn't expect was hearing Mario chuckle. He wasn't aware that man was even able to laugh. Under two stares, one being Šime's confused one and the other Luka's adoration, Mario's smiled faltered. "What? It was funny. I’d say almost as funny and fucked up as meeting my childhood crush and best friend after 7 years, but I think you have it worse," Mario said.

"Well that one was kinda my fault too. Vida and I planned it," Šime blurted out before he could stop himself. There was an awkward silence after that and Šime cursed his inability to keep his mouth shut. Mario and Luka exchanged one more meaningful look before Mario got up. "Well, thank you for that. Good luck with... the whole thing, I guess." Mario replied. He kissed Luka on the cheek and left the room. Šime was suddenly very interested in the design of the counter rather than Luka. "Šime. I know this is not what you want to hear but you should talk to Dejan. I’m saying this to you as a friend," Luka started. "He didn't tell me he has a fucking wife, Luka. What is there even to talk about?" Šime interrupted him, shifting, moving his gaze to his friend. Luka sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. "Don't you think he deserves the benefit of the doubt at least? I’m not saying you have to stay with him if he doesn't have a good explanation, but I think he at least deserves a phone call if you don't want to see him," Luka continued. Šime put his head in his hands, trying to compose himself. His brain kept replaying Anita's words.

Dejan's wife. My husband.

It hurt to think about it. Seeing Dejan would probably hurt even more. "I don't think I can face him, Luka. We’re not together. It was just pretend. I don't know when I stopped acting," Šime whispered. "Šime, open your eyes. It was never a game for him and I am pretty sure that it wasn't for you either. If it was, you wouldn't have kissed him the second time," Luka trailed off, seeming a bit lost in thought before continuing, "Besides you don't develop those feelings that quickly." Šime knew Luka was right. But his stomach still twisted at mere thought of facing Dejan. He wasn't even sure what he was so afraid of. "I don't know...," he muttered. There was another deep sigh from Luka before he put his hands on the counter that separated them. "Listen to me. I’ve known you for six and a half years, and one thing I noticed is being scared of loving someone. You are not even letting yourself acknowledge you like, let alone love someone romantically. I know you will probably remind me of the letter you left me but before that: Tell me, when did you start to like me?" Luka tapped his fingers on the counter. Šime was taken aback. He didn't expect that question and he tried to remember when he started to have feelings for Luka. It felt like the memory was blurry, like looking at an old memory that almost seemed unreal. "I think... three, maybe four months ago?" Šime concluded. There was a small smile on Luka's lips at Šime's answer. "And when did you meet Dejan?" Šime could feel himself freezing up at the second question. The memory of meeting Dejan was very vivid compared to the one he was trying to remember just a moment ago. "Four months ago," Šime recalled. It seemed impossible for those two things to be so close in time and it felt like ages were between them. It didn't make any sense. "I might be wrong, Šime but I find it quite strange that you knew me for six years and never saw me as anything other than a friend, but as soon as Dejan appears you’re suddenly hung up on me." Luka paused peering at Šime over his cup of coffee. "Don't you think so?" Realization of what Luka was implying hit Šime like a train. "You think I never was in love with you," he whispered. Luka looked him in the eyes, trapping him with his gaze. "I think you were scared of how Dejan made you feel from the moment you met him. So you made yourself think you were in love with someone who - you knew - couldn't return your feelings. And it worked well. Until Dejan kissed you," Luka said. Šime just stared at him, trying to make sense of it all. "And you are still scared - which I get. I was scared of how I felt about Mario too. But you need to stop running away, Šime. Give him a chance to explain. There is always time to walk away. But there isn't always for second chances." He explained. In that moment Šime's phone rang, as if it was deciding Šime's fate instead of him. The name Dejan was on the screen and Šime looked at Luka for help. Luka only nodded, smiling slightly.

Šime took a deep breath and accepted the call. "Šime, are you alright? You didn't answer my messages and I was starting to think something happened," Dejan’s voice sounded frantic, a little out of breath and tired, like the thought of something happening to Šime had troubled him for hours now and kept him awake at night. Could someone so expressive in all of his emotions really pretend he doesn't have a wife? "Šime?" Dejan repeated. "I think we need to talk. Could you... meet me at the docks? In like an hour?" Šime stuttered. "Of course. Are you alright? You sound," Dejan trailed off looking for the right word, "tense." "It's- I'll be fine. Just meet me there." He cut himself off, hanging up. It was all or nothing now. And those two were depending solely on Dejan's explanation. He just hoped he wouldn’t end up with a shattered heart.

When Šime arrived, Dejan was already waiting for him. His hair looked like he went through it a hundred times and like he didn't sleep at all. Šime could feel his heart squeezing for a bit at that thought, but he pushed it away. Now wasn't the time to be emotional. Šime stopped when he was standing opposite Dejan, making sure to leave enough space between them. With the secret he carried with him now, they were miles and miles away from each other. As if an entire ocean separated them. They locked eyes and his throat felt constricted. He wanted to ask but at the same time he didn't want an answer. He still needed to ask. "Why didn't you tell me you have a wife?" he croaked out.

His voice didn't sound like his own. The way Dejan's face twisted after his words was like a punch to the stomach. Šime could easily see shock, followed by guilt. He felt dizzy because Dejan didn't even have to say anything. Šime knew it was true. "Šime, it's not what you think. I can explain." Dejan said hurriedly. Šime had to laugh at that even though it left a bitter taste in his mouth. "Wow. You really do sound like a cliché cheating asshole, don't you?" Šime snapped.

Dejan's face twisted again in what looked like horrible pain now. Šime looked away as he felt tears gather in his eyes. Dejan didn't deserve to see his tears. He wasn't worth crying over. "Šime, please. I know I should have said this earlier and I understand you’re mad, but if you just let me explain-" Dejan's speech was interrupted by something behind Šime. Or maybe someone. Šime knew before she said a word. The ominous clacking of heels gave her away. "Isn't this adorable? Watch out pretty boy, he’s going to tell you he will leave me for you next. It's like he’s got a script. Adorable but a bit boring, don't you think?" Anita exclaimed. Poison was dripping in his wounded heart again. Šime could feel his vision blur and he felt trapped. It was like Dejan and his wife were tearing him apart by his seams. He was faintly aware of them shouting at each other but his ears were buzzing. He couldn't handle all this. So Šime did the other thing he was good at. He ran. He ran and ran and he stopped only at those stairs where Dejan had left him a few days ago. He was trying to catch his breath and his muscles were burning. He sat down on the cold stairs, putting his head in his hands. His eyes were still burning and soon tears rolled down his cheeks. He bit his lip, trying to contain the sobs that threatened to escape.

He was so concentrated on trying not to cry that he didn't hear the steps approaching until he heard a voice. "Šime?" Dejan's voice was careful, but Šime's head still snapped up.

[I don’t wanna talk… about things we’ve gone thorugh. Dejan's face looked troubled and his hands were raised up, palm forward as if he was approaching a wounded animal. Šime felt anger light up in him again. "Get the hell away from me. I don't want to see you. Probably ever again," he hissed. He probably should have expected Dejan wouldn’t give up that easily. He came a bit closer and gently put a hand on his shoulder. What he did not expect was his own reaction. Tears started pouring down again and a sob escaped him. Even though he put a hand over his mouth, it was too late. He found himself wrapped in a careful hug. "Is this okay?" Dejan questioned quietly. Šime found himself nodding, not even knowing why. He was telling Dejan to leave just a moment ago.

Dejan wrapped his arms tighter around Šime and he felt the rest of his resolve break. He clung to Dejan but at the same time, between sobs, a few hurtful words escaped him. "God I hate you. I wish I could hate you. Why-" The sob interrupted him again and he gave up, hiding his face in Dejan's shoulder. Dejan gently caressed his hair. "Shhh, I know. You have every right to hate me. God, Šime I am so sorry. I never wanted this to happen. To hurt you in any way," Dejan whispered. "Then why didn't you tell me?" Šime croaked out. He still wasn't looking at Dejan, his face buried in Dejan's shoulder. He wasn't sure if he could handle looking at him while he got that answer. "Anita and I never had a stable relationship. We always fought over something but I thought I was in love with her. Until six months ago, when we got into a really bad fight and she hit me. It wasn't anything serious but I just couldn't continue living with her." Dejan took a deep breath and Šime could feel him tightening his hold on him.

"We agreed we would get a divorce, but about a month later she started talking about us getting back together. I refused and moved here from Zagreb. She followed but I didn't talk to her in six months. And then I met you." Dejan stopped and Šime could feel how he wasn't sure how to continue. He squeezed Dejan's shoulder, hoping that will help him find the right words. "It was like I finally started smiling and laughing again after long time. I could actually feel the beat of the music I was singing too- it was like I woke up. But I was scared. At the beginning, it wasn't that important but as I started falling for you, I realized more and more that you’re already pushing me away and I- I was scared of giving you a real reason to do so. I am sorry. I was selfish," Dejan finished. There were a few moments of silence while Šime tried to process what Dejan just said. It was a lot, after all. He knew he had to say something though. He looked up at Dejan's eyes full of determination. "I understand why you didn't tell me. I don't think it was okay, but I understand. But Dejan. You’re still married to her and I really need to think about this," Šime said and gently pushed Dejan away. Dejan nodded even though Šime could see him clenching his jaw. "Could you... tell me what you decided? Even if you don't want to see me, well-" Dejan stopped, trying to compose himself. "I would just like to know." Šime swallowed the lump in his throat. "Yes of course. I will let you know. In any case," he managed to voice. As he walked away once again, he came to the realization that he couldn't imagine his life without Dejan in it. It didn't matter if he was his best friend or something more but his life without Dejan seemed so bland. Without color. Ever since that disaster of a man came into his life it bursted into color. But was that enough of a reason to get hurt if he didn’t leave his wife? Šime wasn't sure. He needed to sleep on it and think about it. He knew who to ask for the advice at least. One way or another it was going to be okay. *a week later* Šime was fiddling with his phone, probably for the hundredth time that day. He could hear Luka's voice in his head clearly by now Just call him already. You are both waiting for that. Šime was always bad at taking the first step and risking it. This was huge. What if he fucked up? What if he ended up with his heart broken? What if-

No. He had to stop. He had gone through all of this already. There was no point except losing his nerves. He just had to jump right in and hope for the best. He dialed the number and prayed. He wasn't sure if he was asking for Dejan to pick up his phone or not, but his heart felt like it will jump out of his chest. "Hello?" Dejan's voice echoed in his head and suddenly he seemed to have forgotten everything he wanted to say. "Hello, Dejan. It's Šime," he said. He wanted to kick himself immediately. Of course, he knew who it was, he had his number for God's sake! Why was he so nervous? "I wanted to tell you that I decided. To...give this another chance. If you still want to. We can try and see where this goes. If your offer still stands, that is," Šime quickly explained, trying not to stumble over his words. "You... Are you sure Šime? Of course, my offer still stands. I just- I didn't really expect you to say yes," Dejan stuttered out. Šime had to laugh nervously at that. Dejan sounded exactly the way Šime felt. "I didn't either but if I’m being honest for the first time here - I can't imagine you not being in my life. Even if we just stay friends because of..." Šime trailed off, not being able to say ‘your wife’, "everything that happened I- I'd still like you to be here." There was a moment of silence again and to Šime it felt like it lasted for an eternity” to spice things up a bit. "Would you like to come over?" Dejan asked abruptly, ending the silence. "Yes. I can be there in... 15 minutes?" Šime answered without thinking, surprising himself. He knew they had a lot to talk about. All of the problems they had wouldn’t go away that easily. But he wasn't going to run away that easily this time. He was done with pretending he didn’t want this. That he didn’t want Dejan. With playing a part in a tragedy he helped to make. "I missed you," Dejan breathed out. He supposed that was a start at least. Two people who wanted to be together. They could figure out the rest. "Don't worry I'll be there soon, dragi," Šime teased gently before hanging up. If they began again, maybe it wouldn't be an addiction that killed him this time.

It might as well just be love.

*6 months later* Šime woke up before Dejan, but instead of quietly getting up as usual, he rolled over to Dejan. He smiled at his peaceful face before attacking him with kisses all over his face.

Dejan grumbled and tried to push Šime away but he just giggled, rolling on top of him instead.

Dejan opened his eyes just to glare at him. "What do you want?" he asked sleepily. "How does your first day as a free man feel, dragi?" Šime questioned, smirking. A smile stretched across Dejan's face at Šime's words. "Well I am not exactly free, am I? I still have a bagudina of a boyfriend," Dejan joked. Šime gently slapped his arm, pretending to be hurt. "I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out for breakfast. To celebrate." Now Dejan was smirking too. "I thought we celebrated last night...for quite a long time too,” he said. "Oh, I am sorry old man, I didn't know I tired you out so much that you can't get up today," Šime smiled, his eyes sparkling with playfulness. "You little shit..." Dejan trailed of flipping them over and pinning Šime to the bed. He kissed him lightly and only deepened the kiss after Šime whined.

They parted and Dejan smiled at Šime's flustered face. "We should get going. We’re not old men after all, and your cooking isn't to be trusted," he concluded, rolling to the edge of the bed. "You are an asshole," Šime whined, "and my cooking isn't that bad!" Dejan snorted. "If almost burning the house down while making muffins counts as ‘not that bad’, then sure dragi." The continued their back and forth banter on the street too. While walking near the sea Šime spotted Anita walking towards them and he squeezed Dejan's hand in silent reassurance. It was over and she couldn't do anything about it. However, before she reached them, a man on the bicycle crashed into her, making her fall right into the sea. After the initial shock, Šime recognized Mario. "So sorry, Ma’am. Didn't see you there from all that shallow- I mean shadow," Mario apologized in an obviously fake tone. It took Šime one look at Dejan for both of them to burst out laughing. It was freeing to laugh and hold hand so freely. Šime also noted he had to thank Mario later but for now he would just appreciate the moment.

All was well.

@lovren-la-vida-luka

@mvsicbookfrxndom

@kjldrv

@igecko1320

@lovrenfc

@sad-forest

@roseszymczak

@snakesandcherries

@domo-no-domo-yes

@asensihoe

@mrsmodric

@lukamodrix

@zadarskabagudina

@tinymodric

@wordpuddle

@ivan-peribitch444

@pachua

@flemishyugotalian

@living-lovren

@arduango

@winters-chiid

#croatian nt #šime vrsaljko #dejan lovren #dejan x šime #luka modric #mario mandzukuic

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kovacissues · 6 years ago

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Hey everyone! I was supposed to upload this on Halloween, but life got in the way so you will get it today! It is short, so I hope many people read it even though it’s not my best work.

The Kinder Egg (Sejan)

The cab driver must’ve thought he was crazy sitting there dressed as a kinder egg. He would probably have cared more about what people thought about him if it wasn’t for the fact that he did it to surprise his boyfriend. Also, after all it was Halloween.

Dejan’s love for those silly candy eggs was out of this world, but Sime would always support him, no matter how weird he could get. It kinda scared him that dressing up as a kinder egg wasn’t even the weirdest shit he had done for the love of his life. His worst, weirdest, memory was from when Dejan had seen 50 shades of gray and gotten ideas. Sime remembered fearing that he would get flogged or something, but no, Dejan had made his own pleasure room, filled with kinder eggs and pictures of him. He was still not sure which one his lover preferred, but judging on what he was now wearing it was obvious what he believed about that.

When the cab finally arrived at Dejan’s house Sime happily paid and sneaked up to the front door. As he saw a lot of children doing trick or treat in the neighboring houses, he decided that would be a good plan to surprise his boyfriend. He rang the bell and the moment the door opened he screamed “trick or treat”. Dejan’s scream sounded like a scared little girl, making Sime crack up.

“oh.. it’s you” Dejan simply stated as he regained his normal heart rate. Sime however only stopped laughing when Dejan slammed the door in his face in annoyance. Obviosuly, he knew his boyfriend well enough to know that soon that door would open and Dejan would realize what he had dressed up as.

“A fucking Kinder EGG!!! I love you!» he heard being screamed half from inside the house, and half after the Liverpool player had realized what Sime was waiting for him to realize. His hands were now turning Sime around to face him, cupping his face the moment it was in reach. “I dressed as the scariest thing I know” he then confessed making Sime look him up and down trying to see who he was supposed to be.

“Moustache… Aj lajk shirt… curly wig…” He noted, mostly for himself, but he still had no idea who Dejan was supposed to be.

“Sometimes I wonder if your brain even works” Dejan said with a smirk before leaning in to kiss his boyfriend. “You will understand it soon enough…” he added before pulling Sime inside with him.

“Wait…” Sime stopped next to a mirror, looking first at himself, then at Dejan. He stood like that for quite some time before turning around and slapping Dejan’s chest lightly. “I’m NOT scary!” he yelled, faking to be upset at his boyfriend. If he was to be honest with himself he thought it was the cutest thing ever that Dejan had dressed up as him, but he would never admit that.

After a while of silence, not the awkward kind, never the awkward kind, Sime suddenly got a thought that made him burst out laughing like crazy. Dejan looked at him, confused, before eventually joining him without any idea of what they were laughing at.

“We’re dressed as your ‘pleasure room’” Sime blurted out, as he understood Dejan’s confusion. This however made Dejan laugh really hard before he got serious, very very serious.

“The two things I love the most” he whispered just loudly enough for Sime to hear it, making his heart burst with feelings.

The cute moment didn’t get a real chance to live though, because of Sime being Sime. He walked up to Dejan, trying to look seductive. “I think you will really enjoy the surprise inside the egg” he stated, adding a wink to try his best looking like the snack he was.

“I bet I will” Dejan said, biting his lip hard as he walked up to his lover and started ‘Opening’ the egg.

Tagged: @footballcursed @ante-ray-bitch

#sime vrsaljko #dejan x sime #dejan lovren #dejan x šime #sejan #šime vrsaljko

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zlaelic · 6 years ago

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Dejan i Šime after the cup

Soo... I don't do this like ever but I kind of felt like it and maybe someone will like to read it so hear me out peeps:

- after celebrating with fans the whole nt goes to the restaurant together and Šime is trying to put on his usual party maker act and fool around but he's already feeling nostalgic and sad that he won't be seeing his friend anytime soon

- he realises that he's bummed the most about the fact that he won't be able to fool around like this with dejan

- I mean he has friends back home in Spain and all but no one gets him like dejan

- dejan always bringing light hearted fun to the table buut also being caring enough to know when to ask serious questions, and even though everyone thinks of them as the goofball duo, they actually talked a lot about deep shit late in the night

- Šime reflects on these past 50 days and realises he hadn't had this much fun in a long time and he doesn't want it to end

- being roommates for so long and then not even being in the same county, how will he cope???

- he thinks about that while giving Dejo the last hug, and they both don't let go for a while, Dejan being in tune to Šime's emotions after functioning together for so long, and knowing that Šime is worried, so while they're hugging real tight he says quietly: "Brother... This summer we party like crazy, right? You call me whenever you feel like it, you just say, Deki, I've got alcohol, and I fly to Madrid in a matter of hours. You call I come."

- and with that he let's him go and even though Šime is sad he knows they'll surely stay in touch, but he wonders how long till it's acceptable to reach out, beacuse he feels like he'll have a need for Dejan in a few hours 😔

- Šime waking up at 2 in the afternoon barely having the energy to get up but then he plays Marice marice and the mood is there, it's almost as if Dejan too will jump into this duet, he's kind of OK again

- after taking a shower, he sees dejo's simple message that says "esi živ bagudinoo" and he's not just OK, he's awesome

- they keep messaging, they keep @-ing each other their insta stories, and months pass

- it's the beginning of September and Šime is back in Croatia he wanted some time alone, and he got on his boat and sailed to the nearest empty beach, kinda meditating and thinking how he's getting older and still feeling like a child, feeling how this is the peak of his life and how he won't have it this good for much longer, but instead of using it he's alone, listening to the waves, what is he doing

- but nah thinking about this won't get him anywhere, and he doesn't usually let his mind wander around like this

- he takes up his phone and sees that Dejan is in Croatia too, a few islands away!

- he messages him asking to meet up, impulsivly

- of course he's there in no time

- two of them like good old times

- it's like minutes passed since they last hugged

- beers, beers, beers; so much alcohol

- and soon they're all over the boat, Marice marice is blasting, Dejan lost a shirt somewhere, and his balance too falling all around so they just settle on sitting after 5, 6 beers

- they played some UNO for a while but sime just kept taking the cards he didn't like and throwing them over board

- I'm not taking 4 cards Dejane, it's not how this game goes

- it literally is!

- Šime drumming with silverware again while dejan sings 90ies Croatian trash songs

- them commenting who's better Ronaldo or Messi lol

- deciding its neither

- gushing over luka again

- fencing with broomsticks

- somehow Šime fell over the board

- in a second Dejan is in panic, he can barely stand and he can't imagine Sime being able to swim while they're like this

- he's throwing shit at him, stuff he thinks floats, and Šime is laughing his ass off while he's holding onto a small children's floatie and obviously he's somehow less drunk than dejan cus he's successfully gotten to the part of the boat where he can get back up

- he can't pull himself up so Dejan is helping, he's gripping as hard as he can on Šime's tattooed muscles and they both find it hilarious, Dejan's pull is a bit too strong and he finds himself underneath Šime's strong warm body, and they're both wet now

- once Šime rolls off they just lie there and watch the stars

- dejan's upper arm accidentally brushes Šime's hair and he decides to brush his fingers through it

- it turns into a head massage of course

- Šime could just fall asleep like that because it's the most comfortable he's felt since he can remember. He closes his eyes and asks his friend, basically his brother, does he feel more like Saša, Tin ili Kedzo and Dejan bursts into laughter

- "you for real? “

- “I'm dead serious" he pulls up a bit and looks him in the eyes

- well I guess I'm more of a Saša, he was always the most popular one, no?

- yeah, bit of a dick too

- oh fuck off

- that's not a disagreement

- they fall again into a comfortable silence for a while but then it starts getting cold and sime asks dejan if he wants some chocolate cake and they dive in

- while sitting across each other Šime putts his leg between Dejan's legs, they kinda both want physical contact, it's reassuring and warm and it's weird for both of them cuz they call a lot of people their brothers but this is not exactly brotherly, this is different, and they don't know what it is, this free and wild ride they make each other take but they both understand that they will ways be there for each other

- "soo... When are you transferring from that shitty English league they don't appreciate you enough?" Šime says with a smirk. "You'd be much better off in some Spanish club you know"

- "We're litteraly an hour long flight away from each other, it wouldn't kill you to come see me sometimes dragi“ he says with a smile

- "I promise, you'll see me often this year" he says and looks away beacuse he can't take this much affection in Dejan's eyes

- they move to the couch, huddle together and fall asleep peacefully with their hands kind of touching

- it's the most contact they let themselves... at least for now. They're both married, and well.. they live in Croatia, it'd be best to just call each other brothers, and act like it's platonic, and maybe it is, who's to say that a soul mate can't be just platonic

- it's always been simple with them no need to complicate it now

- they're more than capable of channelling all their love through warm tight comforting hugs and that's what they will do

#croatia nt #šejan #dime #dejan/šime #dejan x šime #Šime vrsaljko #dejan lovren

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lovren-la-vida-luka · 6 years ago

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After hearing that Sergio does impressions of Luka and makes him cry with laughter I’d like to propose a petition for them to start doing instagram lives to fill the Šejan shaped hole in our lives

#croatia nt #real madrid #luka modrić #sergio ramos #dejan lovren #šime vrsaljko #šejan #whatever luka x sese’s ship name is

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mariomandzos · 6 years ago

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Dejan as a Hot Teacher

- all the students love him

- he would be the most popular literature teacher

- he gets the most valentine’s day chocolates from students of all the teachers

- he has a bromance with the music teacher mr. vrsaljko and the students ship it

- the students waiting for him to start telling them stories about his life during lessons

- imagine him standing there in a tight light blue shirt and you can see the outline of his toned biceps through the material

- he's rolled the sleeves up as well

- his eyes would meet yours all the time across the classroom

- in the summer he takes the whole class outside and teaches in the fresh air

- everyone’s in love with his voice when he reads them romantic novels in class

- all the girls start smiling and blush when he reads the sexy parts

- people actually wanting to be in detention with him

- when you ask him to help you with your work he always leans in so close; you can feel his chest against your shoulder

- his hand brushing against yours while handing back essays and stuff

- he bought you lunch in the canteen once when you forgot your money

- his smile just brightens the room

#request #dejan lovren #croatia nt #football imagine #headcanon #football headcanon #sime vrsaljko #šime vrsaljko #dejan lovren x reader #croatia nt x reader

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luciferinati · 6 years ago

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Who would’ve thought that Dejo is the clingy one?

#Šime Vrsaljko #Dejan Lovren #Šime x Dejan #football

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avasword · 6 years ago

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Dinner. #Šejan

We all know that Dejan went to dinner with Šime and this is how it went. And you can't convince me otherwise.

I know it’s probably the worst oneshot ever and it probably doesn’t even make sense but I had to write it. It’s extremely short but I'm still not used to writing long oneshots so please be gentle with me. In the future I'll try to write more than this.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

It was still warm outside even though the sun was about to go down in a few hours. Dejan and Šime were on their way to a small Italian restaurant, which was located away from the loud and full center of Liverpool, in a small alley. Dejan booked a table for two in a small private area, all the way in the back of the Italian restaurant because he wanted to spend quality time with Šime. Playing in two different countries was hard, they missed each other a lot. So they tried to send as much time as possible together.

Before they headed to the restaurant Dejan posted a picture on his Instagram story, saying that he was about to head to dinner with someone. The fans were going crazy, they wanted to know who that someone was. Maybe one day he would tell them that his Date was Šime. A young waitress came to show them their table at the back of the restaurant away from all the other guests. “Will this do?”, the young waitress asked fluttering her eyelashes looking at Šime. The other didn't seem to get that the waitress was flirting with him. “Yeah its fine. You booked a really nice table Deki”, Šime said smiling at him. Dejan shook his head smiling at his clueless better half.

It was no wonder that she tried flirting with his man. Sitting across from him was the most handsome man on earth. Šime looked so hot in his tight black shirt and his black jeans, but Šime looked good in everything so it wasn't surprise for Dejan that the waitress was looking at Šime like that. Dejan too, couldn't stop himself from looking at Šime. He knew how lucky he was.

The waitress came back with their menus. She put the menu in front of Dejan not even looking at him. “Here you go.”, she handed Šime his menu bending over reveling her chest. Dejan rolled his eyes. “Thank you, we will call as soon as we’re ready to order”, he said with a fake smile looking at her, wishing that she wouldn't come back because she was pissing him off.

Šime just smiled at his boyfriend knowing that the other wasn't in the best mood in this very moment. The waitress looked at Šime not minding Dejan.

“You can always call me if you need something”, she said and walking away swinging her hips. “I guess I’m invisible for her”, Dejan said under his breath making his boyfriend laugh. “Well I can see you and I can tell you that you are quite a sight”, his boyfriend said wiggling his eyebrows. This made Dejan smile, lifting his mood instantly. He shouldn't let a dumb waitress ruin their Date.

As Dejan was skimming through the different foods he felt a slight touch on his thigh, which made him jump a little. He raised his head looking at Šime. The other was looking at the menu, with a straight face like nothing happened. “Is everything alright Dragi?”, Dejan asked smiling at his lover. “Yeah, everything is fine”, Šime said slightly smirking but not looking up from his menu.

They called the stupid waitress to order their food, and she was flirting with Šime again, bending over, fluttering her eyelashes and smiling at him, trying to look sexy. Dean’s blood was boiling, but he still tried to stay calm.

Šime could see how tensed his boyfriend was and it was understandable. If someone had tried to flirt with his Deki he would have attacked that person. He knew how hard Dejan was trying to contain himself in this situation. He was proud of his boyfriend and it made him happy that Deki was controlling himself for him.

Dejan was trying to calm himself, taking deep breaths, reminding himself that he was on a Date with the love of his live. A few minutes passed and Šime slid his hand underneath the table again, squeezing Dejan's thigh noticeable, causing the older to jump again. Šime wanted to relax his boyfriend and he wanted to show him that he only had eyes for him.

“Šime stop it were in public”, he hissed with a small grin on his lips. “That just makes it more fun”, Šime said smirking at his boyfriend. Dejan shook his head chuckling. “You’re unbelievable”. That didn’t stop Šime from touching his boyfriend again. He let his hands trail up and down on Dejan’s thigh making the other bite his lip, trying to contain himself. “If you don’t stop now I swear I will attack you on this table”, Dejan said with a rough voice. “Sounds like a good plan to me”, Šime said grinning even wider than before squeezing Dejan’s thigh again but harder this time.

“That’s enough”; Dejan hissed while standing up, dragging Šime with him, shocking the younger with this sudden movement. “We have to go or I’ll do unholy things to you in font of everyone in this restaurant”. As he was about to drag Šime out of the private area the stupid waitress came back. “I just wanted to tell you that your food will take a bit longer” she said looking weirdly at them and their intertwined hands. “Is everything alright?”, she asked looking at Šime again with a flirty expression. “Well yeah, we are about to head home so my boyfriend here can fuck me already”, he said with a straight face, shocking not only the waitress but Dejan too. The waitress looked like she was embarrassed and it made Dejan chuckle. Šime smiled cheeky at Dejan, took hand and dragged him past the waitress out of the restaurant and into his car.

#ŠEJAN #Šime Vrsaljko #dejan lovren #lovren x vrsaljko #oneshot #dinner #jealousy #love #Croatian NT

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lukaxmodric · 6 years ago

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🌸Flower of The Universe🌸

(Šejan songfic)

Requested by: @ghostyghostkilledthehost (great request, I really enjoyed writing it🌹)

Genre: fluff

Warning/s: none

Notes: song is Flower of The Universe by Sade

Every flower mentioned was specifically chosen due to it's meanings for the fic ;) 🌺

http://thelanguageofflowers.com if you have time and nerves~🌻

They come to see

The fire burning in your heart

Dejan had never been this enamoured.

After just a month in his new house, he still didn't properly meet his neighbors. Well, if you count one-sided amore a prima vista.

A silly crush he had on his neighbor.

Everyday he would see his lively, dark curles, his dark eyes (he assumed, from the distance they looked dark) and endless tattoos on his arms.

Never had he seen him without that dorky smile on his face.

Nor without a pot with colorful flowers in his hands.

After some observation in the neighborhood, Dejan noticed the space between their houses was actually his garden.

Many times he saw people coming in his house and walking out with flowers.

It wasn't hard to conclude his neighbor was a florist of a kind.

He thought it was adorable. To be handy with such delicate things as flowers and maintain a badass biker look was very attractive in Dejan's opinion.

He assumed he was nifty. He may or may have not watched him while he was working in the garden.

He needed to meet him.

They want to witness

This love from the start

It was raining and the sky was a soft grey color. It was rather nice in Šime's opinion.

Inside his comfortable home it was colorful due to his flowers.

His flowrers were varied; from white lilacs and lilies to transvaal daisies and white carnations.

Yellow balsams were growing better than ever, which was a little strange, but his brushed it off as atmosphere.

Everytime he tends to his flowers, he does it with the best care.

His mind wandered to his new neighbor, whom he hadn't met yet.

True, he was shy himself and the new neighbot looked kind of cute.

Looking at his colorful companions, he came to an idea.

They hear you when you cry

This love is far and wide

It was no mystery that Dejan's neighbor loves flowers, so he wanted to impress him.

For a few hours now, he was searching the whole internet, for flower meanings.

As soon as he visited the site of a online flower shop, a few puzzle peaces fell into place.

Recognizing the place on the pictures, just like the one beside his house he decided that he was going to be a little bit more direct.

His neighbor will either come to him or he will come to his shop and the ice is broken.

He intentionally didn't look for the owner's name.

He wanted to meet him by himself.

Writing his order in the form of a message like any other customer, he listed some flowers he had in his mind; gorses, starworts and balsams (specifically yellow).

Nothing too big to begin with.

He ordered and couldn't shake a strange feeling in his chest. It was making his heart soar.

It was a beautiful feeling.

When you smile the stars align

Flower of the universe

Šime was arranging tickseed and smaller larkspurs in a cute little bouquet. Out of blue he got a bit of courage to go and properly meet his neighbor.

He specifically chose those flowers because of their meanings, which were kind off describing his personality.

He was hesitating about putting some thornless roses with them, or was it too early?

New email popped up from his computer, new order.

It was very nicely written, listing some flowers that an average person wouldn't know of.

Being very passionate about his job, Šime translated their meanings with ease.

As if the fate was aligning his intentions with luck, the adress of a customer could not be more obvious.

He smiled, thinking about his new neighbor. Did he like flowers too?

That didn't really matter, but he will make sure he got his flowers but with a little addition.

When you sleep softly the angels come

Like diamonds, like my love

The next day was ordinary as ever for Dejan, until he heard his doorbell ring.

Since he was lonely he was open to literally any kind of company.

Opening his doors rather rashly, he was disappointed to see there was nobody but a carton box badly wrapped in flowery washi tapes.

Remembering his order yesterday, he immediately took the box and looked at the neighbor's house. No one in sight, it was looking as lonely as ever.

He was apparently more timid than he looked.

With a bit of a conflicted mind, he set the box on the kitchen counter and opened it.

If the Internet was right, all the flowers were right, but there were three interlopers; cute little yellow flowers that kind of reminded Dejan of buttercups and purple ones that reminded him of hyacinths.

Bit in the middle of the bouquet was a single purple heartease.

After even more researching on the Internet, he found it's translation.

So he decided to order from a different florist and send him a single jonquil.

They want to know it's true

There's someone in the world,

Šime's heart almost broke from surprise and adoration when he saw a single yellow flower on his doorstep.

lovely as you

Over the span on few weeks a few more flowers were silently exchanged such as ipomoeas and purple lilies which slowly escalated into yellow tulips and austrian briars.

White camellias escalated to red ones.

Even some shy glances and waves were exchanged through their windows, but they still stood with very silent flower messages.

So when one day Dejan got a pink archimenes, he decided to send back the last flower, a red rose.

But this time he decided to come to his doors and deliver it himself.

This love is far and wide

On his very short journey to his house, he thought of what he got from all the flowers, how much he actually knew about his neighbor.

He didn't care about the money he spent on the flowers and deliveries, if it was worth the beautiful relationship that blossomed between them.

When you smile the stars align

Clearing his mind, red rose behind his back, knocked on the doors.

Wide smile on his face.

Flower of the universe.

💐

#sime vrsaljko #šime vrsaljko #dejan lovren #sejan #šejan #dejan lovren x sime vrsaljko #sime vrsaljko x dejan lovren #fanfic #fanfiction #songfic #oneshot #song #songs #myfanfiction #flower #flowers #croatia nt #croatia nt fanfiction #croatia

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mariomandzho · 6 years ago

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dejan lovren x reader friends to lovers drabble

description: you are just one of the boys to dejan lovren, until he develops feelings for you and spirals into madness / feel free to request more here word count: 3,550 featuring: dejan lovren x reader, luka modrić, šime vrsaljko

warnings: none.

please like & reblog!

You were always one of the boys.

You met Dejan at a party when you were in college and he was playing for Lyon. Your friend introduced him to you, and though you’d never admit it now, you harbored a little crush on him that night, until he drunkenly spilled his drink on your dress and you made a pact to remain friends. “You probably don’t want to go out with me now after that, do you?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“And you don’t want to make out with a girl who smells like vodka, do you?” You asked, and he shook his head. For eight years after that, you were best friends – practically inseparable. This was the beginning of the end.

He wasn’t afraid to make gross jokes around you, make passes at other women in front of you, curse, smoke, drink like a fish, and engage in locker room talk when you were around. You were just one of the guys, and when he asked you if you thought so-and-so had a nice ass, you’d answer. Yeah, but not my type. “She’s got great rack, doesn’t she?” Sure, if you’re into the ‘botched’ look, Dejan. He had other guy friends, but no one like you – he told you once, drunkenly, you were the only person on Earth who’d never lie to him. You told him he was the only person in the world you’d never want to lie to, but he didn’t remember the next morning and you never brought it up again.

He had girlfriends throughout the years and even proposed to someone, although it amounted to nothing, but you remained single and if you did hook up with someone, you kept it private. Dejan would always joke about setting you up with someone, but you’d wave away the suggestion. You wanted to find ‘the one,’ you told him, someone who would change your life forever. Dejan never understood; he went through girlfriends like candy, and slept with whoever he wanted.

“What do you even know about setting girls up with other guys?” You asked him.

“All girls are the same. You want someone who brings the flowers and opens the car doors. It’s all smoke and mirrors.”

You felt your heart tighten; did true love mean nothing to him?

You get asked all the time if you’re secretly dating or sleeping together. When his brother gets married and he asks you to be his plus-one, his family bombards you and pesters you with questions. Do you like him? Does he like you? Have you screwed yet? You both flagged down questions left and right, but you could feel your cheeks heating up as he drew you onto the dance floor and suavely pulled you into his arms. You never knew he could dance, and as he swept you along the edge of the ballroom you felt yourself swallowing a bitter pill of truth. You promised you’d never fall in love with him, but tonight... you almost could.

“Are you mad at me? Did I fuck this up, too?” This is what he asks you, standing outside your door and soaking wet in the rain, after two weeks of you ignoring him. Purposefully dodging his calls. Deleting his texts. God, he’d even attempted to contact you via e-mail and on his Xbox account. In your eight years of friendship, you’d never gone longer than a week of not talking to him – of purposefully ignoring him – but after the wedding you found that you couldn’t look at him without intrusive, unwanted thoughts creeping into your brain. You loved him. It hurt not talking to him, but it hurt worse to see him.

“You didn’t do anything. I’ve just been busy.” You spoke through the peephole.

“Can I come in?” He hoisted up a brown bag of take-out, “I’ve got Chinese. Your favourite.”

“You hate Chinese,” you countered.

“I know, it’s disgusting, but it’s your favorite and damn it, [Y/N], I’m balls deep in rainwater out here. Whatd’ya say, can I come in?”

You breathed in deeply and cracked open the door.

Things fall back into routine once Dejan starts dating again, giving you the space you need to sort your... dilemma... out. He invites you out one night for drinks to meet her. She’s blonde, perky, and a recent college-grad. Probably too young for him, but you try not to dwell on it. Dejan goes on and on about how you’re his eldest friend, and you smile tightly, drink your Club Soda, and pray that the ground opens up and swallows you whole as he recounts the time you two vacationed in Cancún and had to go to the hospital because sand fleas bit you on your ass.

It’s better this way, you tell yourself, because you should be happy for Dejan, and the more time he spends with her, the less time you spend gazing dazedly into his eyes. Slowly, but surely, the deeper in love he falls with her, the less in love you are with him. He sends you postcards from a holiday in Costa Rica, her smiling face tucked into the crook of his neck, and it doesn’t even sting. It doesn’t even hurt. (As long as you don’t think about the scent of his cologne). Finally. It isn’t long before you can tell him you’re happy for him and really mean it; it isn’t long before you can finally move on with your life.

He calls you one night at two in the morning. The rain is pounding on your roof, the moon shines ominously through the curtains. Your lights flicker on as you answer the call, “h–hello? Dejan?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” His voice is breathless and lost, aimless and empty.

“What’s wrong? Where are you? It’s two thirty in the morning.”

“She–she fucking cheated, [Y/N].”

“Who did?”

“It doesn’t fucking matter. None of it matters. You’re the only one who wouldn’t lie to me. The only fucking one–God damn it!” Your heart caved in on itself. All this time, he remembered? You heard him smash something in the background, like a glass vase crashing against marble floors. He was practically screaming into the phone. “I was going to do it. Really do it this time. A nice ring, Zagreb, like we promised. It��s all over.”

You thought the bray of your heart beating could be heard over the phone. “Dejan. Where are you? I’m coming to get you. You shouldn’t be by yourself tonight.”

Dejan’s heart is broken for the first time in his life, and it’s hard to watch him, but you help him shoulder the burden and within a few months you have your best friend back. Not your best friend searching listlessly for engagement rings, not your best friend nearly killing himself trying to make his girlfriend happier, trying to make his enemies proud, but Dejan: the boy you met at a party eight years ago. This version of Dejan still asks you about other girl’s asses, but he holds the door for you when you go to a restaurant, and brings you flowers on your birthday. You drag him to boutiques so you can get his ‘expert’ advice on dresses; you call him before dates to ask whether guys preferred the ‘natural or pushed up bra look’, and he doesn’t even flinch. You have dinner together, and watch disgustingly cute rom-coms, and throw popcorn at each other when the main characters kiss.

If things could get any better, you didn’t know how.

You, Dejan and Luka head out for beers in the city one night. Dejan is wearing a leather jacket and his hair is gelled back, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was dressing to impress. Only, the reality is much worse: he’s effortlessly handsome. Luka slips away to the bathroom and you’re left to survey the bar; your eyes, smoked out with black liner, dart from guy to guy. Gay, married, ugly, old. No one seemed the least bit suitable.

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice was hoarse and raspy from the shot he’d just thrown back. “You look like a predator.”

“Shut up.” You punched his shoulder. “Look, I don’t want to get into details, but you need to find me someone. My mother won’t stop pestering me about my eggs drying out and I need a plus one for her sixtieth birthday, and she knows we’re not together so it can’t be you.”

“So, your only other alternative is some guy you met in a crap bar?” You nodded, chewing your bottom lip, “alright, fine. What about that guy? I think he’d be a good lay.”

“No. I can barely see his upper lip under that squirrel mustache he’s sporting.”

“That would be Šime. What about that one, ten o’clock?”

“Hmm... oh, God, no. Combovers are still a thing?”

“Okay, Miss Picky, what about that guy? Blonde dude to your left.”

Luka sidled up to the bar and pulled up a stool next to Dejan, ordering another round of shots for the table. “Where did [Y/N] go? She’s going to miss the best part.”

“She’s flirting with some guy,” Dejan cocked his head toward where you were, “wants to get laid apparently.”

“And you’re just going to let him talk to your girlfriend?” Luka chuckled, drowning in another pint of beer.

Dejan uttered the words he’d said a thousand times over, “she’s not my girlfr–.” But the look Luka sent him made him stop short and knit his brows together. “What?”

“Hey, you’re the one that stopped.” Luka held his hands up. When Dejan wouldn’t stop glaring at him, he continued, “Don’t give me that crap. I don’t expect you to lie, but you can’t look me in the eyes and tell me it doesn’t bother you the least bit that she’s going to go home with another guy tonight. When’s the last time that happened?”

Dejan sent another glance in your direction and felt his fingertips tighten around his beer. “I can’t remember.”

The look the guy was giving you ticked him, got under his skin, and not for the first time in his life he wondered if things would be different if he went home with you that night at the party, instead of acting like a dick and screwing some meaningless girl.

Three weeks later, you are convinced that there must be an alien invading your best friend. This is the only explanation for why he’s suddenly stuttering, blushing, and pretending that he doesn’t know the directions to your apartment. This is the only reason why he could possibly feign offense when you ask him if he thinks another girl is hot, or if he’d actually bang Megan Fox. “I just don’t want to talk about things like that anymore,” he says, leaving you in stunted silence.

“Jeez, what are you on your period?”

“Shut up, [Y/N].”

He gets injured later that month. Something in his hamstrings. The doctor says it won’t take long to heal but that he should prop the leg up and remain on bedrest for at least a week. Because you know Dejan, and you know that he can’t stay motionless for more than half a second, you show up at his door with Chinese food, chick flicks, and beer. “Don’t worry about getting up to answer the door,” you call out to him through the walls, “I have a key.”

“What the fuck? [Y/N]!” He throws a pillow at the door that manages to bounce off you when you walk in. Burrowing into a blanket, all you can see is the tips of his hair. He doesn’t want you to see him – doesn’t want anyone to see him this way – but what you don’t know is that he doesn’t want you, specifically, to see him.

“Oh, so you did get my calls? I’ve come bearing gifts and to make sure you, mister, don’t move a muscle. What should we watch first, 27 Dresses or A Walk to Remember?”

“Neither. I’d rather suffocate.”

“27 Dresses it is.” You sit on the couch next to him and place a hand on his shoulder. He flinches, but doesn’t try to swat your touch away. “Dejan, I’m here for you. I’m not going to let you hurt yourself and jeopardize your career, it’s too important to you, and you’re important to me.”

He pulls down the blankets an inch.

“And I brought beer.”

“Finally, you’re useful for something.”

He leans on you and you help guide him to his bedroom. He’s doing everything he can not to bear weight on his bad leg, and hobbles over to the bathroom before he climbs into bed. It’s so pitiful you nearly laugh, for which he turns around and shoots you the bird. Once he’s in bed, you pull the covers up and over his body, tuck it under his arms and legs (like his mother used to do), make sure the pillows are comfortable and that his leg isn’t being touched by anything. You leave a glass of water and ibuprofen tablets on his bedside table and kiss his forehead before turning out the lights. He grasps your wrist before you can leave. “Thank you for coming tonight,” he says sincerely.

“Of course.”

The moonlight shines in his dark eyes as they gaze at you devotedly. “I’m sorry I was an ass.”

“Tonight or the past eight years?”

“Nine.”

“What?”

“Next month will be nine years.”

Your twenty-ninth birthday rolls around on a Saturday and your girl best friend, the one that introduced you to your guy best friend, plans you an elaborate birthday bash. There’s a barbecue in the backyard and a dance party in the living room, and you count all twenty-nine years as blessings, although you’ve secretly resolved yourself to start telling people you’re twenty-five. You’re swearing that a new wrinkle has sprouted on your face when Dejan arrives, and he sets down an armful of gifts to wrap you in his arms and spin you around. “Happy birthday, grandma,” he whispers in your ear.

“You’re older than me, grandpa,” you shoot back, squeezing him as hard as humanely possible. “Thank you for coming.”

“I wouldn’t miss it. I brought Luka, hope that’s alright.”

“Of course it is. The more the merrier.”

Luka ends up being a saving grace – a blessing in disguise – because, shortly after you kiss your boyfriend on the stroke of midnight, Dejan makes the decision to get hammered. He’s sloppy and intolerant, draping himself across furniture and falling on top of your family members, apparently blathering to your guests about how he’d think you’d be a good shag. Ironically, he ends up throwing up on you, and he says, “I didn’t think I could ever love a girl covered in throw-up.”

“Dejan, you’re drunk.” You look around. Everyone’s eyes are glued to you, and the mess on your white dress, but only Luka dares to meet your gaze. Help me, you mouth. “You should go home.”

“I don’t wanna. I’m–I’m tired of going home. You know?”

“No, I don’t. You’re talking nonsense.” You cross your arms over your chest, “why are you doing this?”

“Because you shouldn’t be with him.”

“C’mon, Dejan, let’s go.” Luka wraps an arm around his friend and attempts to haul the taller man away, “we’ll get you home before you say something you’ll really regret.”

“Stop.” He swats Luka away, “[Y/N], listen to me, because I’ve got ten minutes before I’m going to pass out, but it shouldn’t have been this way. We did it all wrong. You shouldn’t date some blonde, good-for-nothing, plastic Barbie doll–” (“Hey!”) “you, you should date..”

“Who should I date, Dejan?”

“For God’s sake, [Y/N], me. I love you.”

You don’t talk to him. How could you possibly talk to him after he threw up on you, embarrassed you in front of everyone you knew, insulted the only guy you’ve cared about (other than him, of course) in years, and declared his love for you publicly? It didn’t matter that he sent cards, texted you constantly and left weekly voicemails. You couldn’t bring yourself to even contemplate forgiving him.

You meet with Luka for lunch one afternoon, and he tells you exactly what you’re expecting him to say. Dejan is a mess. He’s sorry. He misses you. He’s an asshole. “I know,” you say, digging your fork into your food, and as if sensing your discomfort Luka expertly swerves the conversation Dejan Lovren. Finally.

It finally feels like the end.

You stand with your hands on your hips, looking out at the view of your new office. It is the first time in your life that you have your own office, instead of a cubicle, and you feel an itch bubbling underneath your skin. You want to tell him–so badly. Maybe he’d make a joke about it, but at the end of the day no one would be prouder of you than Dejan. He’d spin you around in his arms and promise to take you to an expensive restaurant. He’d toast to your promotion with champagne and a box of chocolates. He’d be so happy for you. It makes your heart hurt. Damn him for making what was supposed to be a joyous occasion hurt.

You gather your things in a cardboard box and bound down the stairwell to the lobby. Greeting the receptionist as you breeze by her, the automatic doors pry open and the summer air greets you, enveloping your body in an uncomfortably humid hug.

“Y/N.”

His voice hits you like to the slap to the face, and you can still feel the sting of your skin as you turn around to face him. He’s thinner, the circles around his eyes darker, but still effortlessly and classically handsome; his dark hair windswept, a white dress shirt hugging the muscular contours of his broad chest, black slacks clutching onto his thighs and calves. “Dejan, what are you doing here? How did you kno–.”

“Don’t talk. I know that’s hard for you – but please, until I finish, don’t talk. I need to get something off my chest if it’s the last time we ever speak.” You open your mouth to argue, but he holds up a finger, indicating for you to stay quiet. Your shoulders droop out of curiosity you decide to let him speak. “I am sorry. Hell, [Y/N], for the past nine years. I’m sorry for all of it and I’m sorry I didn’t understand anything about what I felt for you before now.”

“What you felt for me?”

“Feel. I still love you, and I probably have for a long time.”

“Dejan...”

“I want–need to know if you feel the same. Or if there’s any possibility you ever could. You put up with me for this long. You can hate me for the rest of your life; you can never forgive me because I don’t expect you to. But it breaks my heart, because you’ve changed me, and... I love you. I couldn’t say it before but I can say it right now. And I also want to say that I’m sorry about your party.”

You could scarcely fathom a response, but the words you’ve been itching to say tumbled out of your mouth. “I got promoted today. At work. I’m not someone’s assistant anymore. I can’t go back to being your groupie.”

“You got promoted?” You nodded. “[Y/N,] that’s fantastic.”

“I missed you.”

“You did?”

“And you’re not completely to blame, you know. I knew I had feelings for you, too.”

“You did? Since when?”

You glanced upward, wishing the ground would swallow you whole, “since your brother’s wedding.”

“My brother’s wedding? Four years ago?”

“M-maybe.”

“And those feelings... have they changed?”

You glanced at him, then, feeling like you were once again drowning in his dark eyes. Suddenly, you were twenty-five again, and he was sweeping you onto the dance-floor while Ella Fitzgerald crooned over the radio. It was just you and Dejan, and while you knew your heart was going to be broken then, things are different now. You are both older, maybe not wiser, but definitely more experienced.

You clamped your eyes closed and shook your head. Within an instance, he crossed the distance between you two and took your shoulders in his hands. “You’re not going to get down on one knee, are you? Because nine years is a little too soon for me,” you groaned.

“Shut up. Let me kiss you, you brat.”

You took the initiative and placed your hand on his jaw, feeling the bristles of stubble underneath your fingertips. Lifting onto your heels, you graced your mouth against his, and in one swift movement his broad shoulders lean down and your lips are met by the warmness of his own. He deftly pries apart your jaw and his tongue runs along the edge of your teeth, coaxing you into submission, as his hands pull you nearer to his chest.

When you – at last – draw apart, you breathe in deeply, inhaling the musky undertones of his cologne. “Why did we never do that before?”

“I was a stupid, stupid man.”

“Promise me we won’t stop?”

He sealed your new pact with another kiss.

@vatreniworld @living-lovren @why-wonder-if-theres-amore @marilyn-mandzukic

#this got so FUCKING LONG #dejan lovren #dejan x reader #liverpool fanfiction #croatia nt fic #mf: dejan lovren

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