#kieran tierney imagine

[yellowkitkieran]

Birdie and Fox (Kieran Tierney)

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: On Kieran's birthday, you and your best friend spill your guts and admit to the elephant in the room.

“Happy birthday, Kieran.” Alongside the elaborately wrapped boxes, the small black one that fits in the palm of your hand feels insignificant, even with the red bow meticulously tied on the top. Your cheeks are on fire when you hold it out to Kieran, who's smile grows as he carefully plucks it from your hand. 

Harboring a crush on one of your best friends isn't an easy secret. Kieran’s naturally flirtatious personality means you toe the line each day, often pushing the limit between friends and something more. More than once you've convinced yourself that maybe Kieran feels something too. A lingering touch, a stare that catches on you a heartbeat too long, a compliment that leaves you stuttering. But he's Kieran and you're his friend, so surely you're imagining things. 

“Thanks darlin’, you didn't have to get me anything! I told ya before, I dinnae need any gifts. What is it?” Before he even opens it, Kieran wraps a strong arm around your shoulders for a tight hug. Every muscled inch of his side is pressed against your own. The black and white tiled kitchen presses in on you, which is the excuse you give yourself in order to justify leaning into him just a touch. 

“Don't get your hopes up, it's nothing special.” You're acutely aware of his heat, soaking into your bones through your fisherman's sweater. You recover after a few seconds and wrap your arms around his waist to quickly return his hug before stepping out of his embrace. 

“You know I had to get you something though,” you murmur. “Just open it- it's not as elaborate as some of the other things your teammates have gotten you, but hopefully you still like it?” 

Kieran's eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles again and carefully unties the ribbon. “I'll love it cause it's from you.”

“Suck up.”

Kieran curls the freed length of ribbon around his finger with care, like he doesn't want it to get swept away on the wind. Strange for him to want to keep something so small, but it's distinctly Kieran to do so. The little things mean the most to him. 

“You know I'll always love anything you get me. It's enough of a present that you could make it today, I'm glad your supervisor let you have an extra day off.” Kieran bumps you with his hip and laughs that musical laugh that you're borderline obsessed with. You could get more drunk on the sound than you could on top shelf bottles, and you'd enjoy it more, too. 

You roll your eyes, shifting from foot to foot. The anticipation is killing you; Kieran is purposely dragging this out. Is it because he's trying to embarrass you or is it because he simply doesn't want you to leave his side yet? No, he just loves to see you squirm. His head is tilted in that annoyingly adorable way as he watches you try and puzzle him out. Why is it that today of all days you've lost your senses around him this terribly? 

You shake the thoughts from your head and say, “just open it will you? The boss man could call me any second and demand I drop everything to head over.”

Kieran frowns, fingers stilling on the black lid of the box. “You wouldn't go, would you? Because I'd be upset if you left me here with this lot of animals, Birdie.”

“Ugh- Kieran come on!” You shove him, though the brick wall of muscle barely sways an inch. Now your frown mirrors the one on his full lips and you sigh. “Unless you're gonna pay my car note, I'd have to go in if he called, yeah. You can handle these animals-” you gesture out of the kitchen to encompass the few dozen lads, wives and girlfriends who mingle in the living room, “all on your own. You've done it before!”

“I would.” The words tumble out of Kieran in that deep timber that only surfaces when he's utterly serious. “You know I would. I barely get to see you anymore since the season started- your new job keeps you way too busy and I dinnae ken how it doesn't drive you as crazy as it drives me.”

You rub your hand over your arm, sighing through your nose. Honestly, you picked this job because the schedule doesn't line up well with Kieran's. And it does bother you to be apart from him for days at a time when you're so used to seeing him often. It's for the best though. At least that's what you tell yourself. It's become increasingly hard to be in his presence the last few months as your little crush has blossomed into something unbearable. Each time he laughs, your heart stops. When you catch a glimpse of his smile from across the room, you can't think straight for ages after. And his eyes, especially now when they're lit up by the setting sun filtering through the window above the sink, you aren't sure how you'll ever manage to deny him what he wants. 

So you listen to your heart for once instead of your brain and quietly murmur, “I'll try to be around more, Key. I promise.” Because you can't continue to allow your head to overrule what you truly want. Kieran makes you happy- and don't you deserve to be happy?

Seemingly satisfied with that answer for the moment, Kieran nods and moves almost imperceptibly closer to you as he finally pulls the lid from the box. You can't bring yourself to watch as he pulls a silver tie clip out, engraved with the date of his first goal for Arsenal on the front and his initials on the rear. Though simple, it cost you a pretty penny. You hadn't batted an eye however, because it was for Kieran, and for him you would gladly empty your pockets of every last coin. 

“Oh, this is lovely, Birdie. This is- it's perfect.” Kieran's hand closes over the bar and he tucks his closed fist to his chest as one might do with something precious they wish to protect at all costs. “Honestly love, I cannae find the words, it's just…” 

At this point, you feel like you're on fire. Your palms are clammy, and your throat is thick. “It's not that amazing. I mean, it's not the new Playstation Martin got you, that's for sure. It's just a dumb tie clip.” You can't bring yourself to tell him there's more. Hopefully he doesn't notice the thin purple band that's still nestled in the box and you can scurry off to your flat instead of making a bigger fool of yourself. 

“Anyone can buy me a Playstation. That's just money, Birdie.” There's that dumb nickname again- a holdover from when you were younger and he insisted on having codenames. Yours stuck around, even if you rarely used his. ‘Fox’ is saved for special occasions. Not only has the connotations behind such a name become something that's a bit harder to justify now, but you relish the pink that creeps up Kieran's neck when you use it.

You're snapped out of your head when Kieran presses his lips to your cheek. Your gasp is audible, you're positive- but Kieran either doesn't notice or doesn't care. “Thank you, Birdie. This is the best gift someone has ever gotten me.” You open your mouth to say something to brush off the remark when Kieran shakes his head. “It's the thought behind it that matters to me, not the money. Honest, I promise you that I'll cherish it.”

“You mean that, yeah?”

Kieran’s answer comes in the form of him clipping the silver bar onto the collar of his shirt, like he's proud to wear it even if it doesn't go with his outfit even the slightest bit. Seeing him wearing it so openly with that wild smile has you feeling a touch reckless.

Well, if he likes it that much… 

You swallow hard and try to ignore your racing heart. “There's uh… there's more in the box, Key. I um… made you something? It's nothing special, just something small.” You rush to get the words out as he notices the bracelet. It really is simple- nothing more than purple and white embroidery floss braided in a tight, durable weave. It's a technique you learned at sleepaway camp as a child, and something you still indulge in now and again. 

“Oh… you- you made this?” Kieran rubs the bracelet between his thumb and forefinger, the edge of his nail catching on a thread slightly. He smooths it over and hums quietly. 

For the first time in years, you aren't sure what to make of Kieran's reaction. Normally you can read him like an open book but now? You have no idea what's going on inside his head and it terrifies you. 

Kieran clears his throat and blinks rapidly. Then he holds out his wrist and says hoarsely, “can you put it on for me? Please.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Your fingers shake when you take the bracelet from him. You can't meet his eyes and fiddle with the button sewed at the end. “You don't have to wear it Kieran, I understand if-”

“Just put it on Birdie. Please.” 

“Alright…” As much as you try, you can't say no to him. So you take Kieran's hand, turning it over and fastening the bracelet around his wrist. The shade of lavender you chose suits his sun-kissed skin perfectly. You have it on him in seconds, as you thought ahead and made it easy to take on and off. Though you should drop his hand now that your task is complete, you run your thumb over the center of his palm and over his wrist, just below the bracelet. Kieran's pulse races when you press down slightly. Neither of you moves save to meet the other's eyes.

Though the party is in full swing mere steps away, it may as well be just the two of you in the room. The chatter of his teammates and friends fades to background noise. It's just a dumb bracelet, but Kieran looks at you like you've just handed him ten million pounds. Kieran squeezes your hand. You both speak at the same time then, talking over each other. 

“I think-”

“Maybe we should-” 

Kieran's laugh has your stomach in knots. You still haven't let go of his hand. More notably, Kieran has yet to pull away. 

“Kieran! Saka wants to cut the cake- if you're not here in thirty seconds he might eat the whole thing!” 

Martin's shout has the two of you separating as if on fire. You fist your hands in the skirt of your dress, finding anywhere to look other than Kieran's face. Tucked away as you are in the corner of Kieran's kitchen, it's understandable how caught up you'd gotten in him. Martin had simply brought you back to reality. 

“I'll be right there,” Kieran calls back. Then, quieter, Kieran adds, “Can we talk later?”

“You should probably go be with your friends, Fox. And I should go too- I think I need to head to work.” You turn and grab your bag off the counter, but the hand Kieran places on your waist freezes you in place before you can slip out the door past him. 

“You didn't think I was gonna let you get away that easy, did ya? Just stay with me. You and I both know your phone hasn't even gone off. You're just trying to escape because you're scared.” 

Kieran tips his head to meet your downcast eyes. He knows you too well for you to try and lie through your teeth; he would see right through it, so there's no use. “I'd really, really love it if you stayed, Birdie. Don't run off on me.” 

It's the tender, loving kiss that Kieran presses to your forehead that seals it for you. You've gone completely, utterly, wholly head over heels for your handsome Scotsman and there's no use denying it anymore. Somewhere along the way you've started to love him. You've come to terms with it now, because you weren't wrong. There's something there, it's not as one sided as you thought.

You nod, because clearly Kieran isn't leaving this room before you answer him. Your nod of agreement makes him smile, and he places a hand under your chin to have you look up at him properly. “We'll talk in a minute, yeah? I promise.”

That minute turns into an hour, though you don't hold Kieran accountable for it. You are far from his only friend, and it wouldn't be fair for you to monopolize his time. So you occupy yourself by chatting with the lads you know well enough to catch up with, and joking with the others you don't. Kieran keeps you close to him as much as possible, subtly tugging on the sheer sleeve of your dress to direct you to follow him, go there, shift closer to him. You don't mind, mostly because you're certain to bolt if Kieran lets you out of his sight. 

Once people begin to filter out, you make yourself busy with tidying up. Plates, cups and various silverware are stacked in the sink. Abandoned drinks are emptied and crumbs are swept up whilst Kieran plays host. Soon enough the music is turned off and Kieran is grabbing the broom from your hands. “You didn't have to do all this, you know. I was gonna clean up in the morning.”

“I wanted to make myself useful. I can't sit still, you know that!”

“Oh, I know. How about you make us some tea and I'll finish up in here? Because you've done enough for tonight, Birdie.”

The kettle boils long before you are ready to face Kieran again. Your head is a mess of jumbled thoughts that crisscross over one another like a bowl of spaghetti, all intertwined and tangled with no hope of unknowing them. The tea is steeped and cups are poured by the time Kieran joins you in the kitchen, and he grabs his favorite mug and takes a satisfying sip. 

“I've always said you know how to make the best cuppa in London.” Kieran grins whilst you stare into the surface of your own tea. Sensing your clouded mind, he sets one hand on the counter between you, less than an inch from your own. You watch out of the corner of your eye as his pinky moves millimeter by millimeter towards yours until his hand half covers yours. It is as much of an invitation as it is a test. 

You aren't going to be afraid anymore, that's what you told yourself. Today is a day for risks, for jumping in headfirst without knowing how deep the water is. No more second guessing, no more harboring secrets. Enough being scared and holding your cards close to your chest. 

“About earlier,” you start in a voice that is thankfully even, “did you… I mean, it seemed like you were ready to say something before Martin interrupted.”

“Oh, right. I was.” Kieran sets his mug aside and turns towards you. Instinct has you doing the same, your head tipped back slightly to meet those warm brown eyes you would love to sink into. “It's just…” Kieran sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. Picking at his nails has been a nervous habit of his for years, so when you see him indulging said habit, you gently take his hands in yours. If Kieran cannot be steady, then you will be. Where one is not strong, the other becomes their steadfast anchor. 

“Hey, you can tell me. Go on, be a good lad and find your words for me, Fox.”

Kieran's cheeks turn red in a hurry. “No helping matters when you call me that, Birdie! Look, all I'm sayin’ is I really care for you. As in… as in more than a friend. And if you don't, that's fine! We can pretend I dinnae say a word.”

“Kieran, for once in your life just be quiet.” Your free hand rests on the nape of his neck. Even as you're rising up on your tiptoes, Kieran can't keep his mouth shut though. 

“I cannae be quiet, not when you're looking at me like that- heywhatareyou-” 

Kieran finally shuts his damn mouth when your lips meet his. Neither of you wastes any time. Kieran holds your jaw like you're made of glass, tender and soft. You sigh wistfully and press your front to his. Kieran opens for you, allowing your tongue to sweep against his in a dance that feels so practiced, it feels like the hundredth time you've kissed him. The whole thing comes naturally, like you've gone into this knowing exactly what he likes and doesn't like. 

“Strawberry,” you murmur when you break to breathe. “You taste like strawberry.” You begin to giggle with your forehead resting on Kieran’s shoulder. “Why on earth do you taste like berries?! Have you been swiping my lip balm?”

You welcome the tight squeeze Kieran inflicts upon you, as well as the butterflies that seem intent on residing permanently in your stomach. “So what if I have? You would nae want to kiss a lad with rough lips, would you?” 

“Oh, absolutely not. I wouldn't have kissed you if they didn't look so soft!”

“Mhm, exactly. So don't complain and just be happy that I thought of you and your comfort!”

“I'm sure that's exactly what you were thinking when you stole it from my coat pocket. You knew I was gonna kiss you tonight, didja?”

Kieran's shoulder lifts in a shrug. The nonchalance of it has you smiling like a fool. He's so effortlessly pretty that you can't help but admire him. “One way or another that was my plan, darlin’. I wasnae letting you slip away from me.”

Soft kisses are placed on each of your cheeks before Kieran smiles at you again. “So? What do you say?” 

Your fingers pause their tracing on his chest. “What do I say about what? You haven't asked me anything.”

“Come on Birdie, you know what I mean.” Of course you do, but you want to hear him say it. You remain stoically silent, staring up at him with your best confused face as you wait for him to ask you properly. 

“You're really gonna make me say it?”

“Like you haven't been dreaming of asking me anyway. It's a formality but I expect nothing but pampering, Kieran.”

You are distracted by the curve of Kieran’s throat when he tips his head back and laughs. “You're adorable, you know that? Alright, I'll ask you properly sometime soon. But at least promise me that you won't go around snogging other lads in the meantime, yeah?”

Your thumb rubs off the smudge of your lipstick left behind on his lips. “I think that's a promise I can make, Fox. Easiest promise ever.”

[oh-saints]

bestie do we still get kt x singer reader?!🥲i need it after the anti-kt disappointment

for you, fellow KT bestie (does it rhyme???) who's been deprived of our lovely viking for far too long, i'd give it to youuu

change

being a female singer-songwriter in a very saturated industry, you work hard to get where you are now. but kieran works harder until he can call you his.

kieran tierney x singer!reader

word count: 2.0k

note: i gotta be honest... i tried so hard not to entertain this ask because my request's closed and i have so many left i haven't worked on yet, but an idea popped in my mind that i had to write it down. and in the light of us fellow KT girlies not being granted his appearance by mikel, which coincided with my bday week this time around, here it is! but as usual, i happen to write this at dawn so not beta-read yet.

the song included in this work is this.

“A record I must say,” Lauren, your agent, walked into your studio alongside your publicist with a cup of tea—dajeerling and brewing hot, no less, just the way you like it. “A birdie told me you haven’t pulled out all-nighter lately and chose to clock in early instead.”

“Morning to you, too, Lauren,” You pushed back your chair, straying away your eyes from the lined-up monitors on your work station. “Now, what’s wrong in being early?”

“As far as I can recall, you love your bed so much that you always try to spend your time there until it’s really time to go,” Lauren put your cup and your smoked-beef sandwich on the table standing in the middle of the room. “Am I right?”

You could only laugh at your agent’s long-standing experience of the countless times she had to drag you out of your bed so you could make it in time for radio promotions. She even went as far as preventing you from touching the bed when you were due for a red carpet, afraid you’d pass out and she had to extort physical means to get you wake up.

In your defence, you couldn’t help it. Inspirations come to you at unexpected times, and mostly they keep you up during the time when everybody’s asleep because you can’t not make something out of it while it lasts. They are what keep you afloat in this make-it-or-break-it industry, the root of your endless hits after hits, and precisely why your agent—although groaning while doing so—would still shake the sleep from your entire being relentlessly.

However, you couldn’t deny your agent’s astute observation that you had, indeed, been gracing your studio in normal time zone. Something that wasn’t exactly unheard of but definitely something that was missing from a gazillion years ago.

In fact, deep down, you actually surrendered yourself to the fact attack launched by Lauren because you were changing, for good. No longer were the days of grabbing instant meal kits, nights of recording and takeouts. And you have every reason to.

While the smoke of brewing hot tea was usually something you look forward to get your body and soul intact for the rest of the day, lately there had been another angelic sight freely occupying the other side of your bed—a sight you look forward to see the first thing in the morning, as soon as you open your eyes to the bright, blinding sun. Yet, you could swear the sight was even mesmerising than the sun itself.

The calm personified in Kieran Tierney when he was sleeping was something else. Eyes shut perfectly in a dome shape and eyelashes tickling his prominent cheekbones—it was a scenery you would definitely choose over the leather four walls of your studio.

Kieran when awake was already bedazzling as it is, but when you take away all the determination and worries, he simply looks like an innocent child sleeping, with those thin lips left agape and soft snores coming out in tune melodically with the chirping bird outside.

For that particular private viewing alone, if it meant you had to do patchworks to your usual unusual routine, you would gladly do it in a heartbeat. You’d enjoy the bonus of 5 extra minute to run the pads of your fingers along the lines of his facial structure, grazing inch and every bit of the strong features you’ve come to love the past months, tracing every crook and nook until nothing else left untouched.

You like to touch the end of his hairline and the beginning of his skin, creasing out the contracted muscle at your initial touch, down to his thick brows, the long eyelashes, protruding cheek bones and jaw lines, the apple chin… and your favourite of them all; the thin but healthily pink lips that always pouts in default but would turn into a megawatt smile whenever around you. It’d become your favourite ever since you noticed that particular perk only you had the privilege to own.

Your hands would draw back to the tip of his pointy nose, a feature he inherited from his patrilineal genetics, and he would scrunch the muzzle softly as if he was about to sniff before gaining consciousness slowly but surely. You’d come to realise it was marked by his 3-times blink before he groaned a sleepy, groggy good morning as he took in his surroundings.

And you’d laugh when he attempted to pull you into another tight cuddle, prolonging your lazing time on the bed by leaving pecks on the crown of your head, as if he didn’t have somewhere to go every morning without fail.

As much as you’d come to terms with the fact that you know now your way of dying—should you be able to choose—is to be engulfed in Kieran’s arms, basked in his signature mixture of natural odour and his favourite perfume, until you run out of breaths, Kieran’s athletic routine was the reason why you had to get up the same time as your boyfriend.

Because who could fall asleep again when you got to gawk on your shirtless boyfriend walking around your bedroom like he owned the place?

Certainly not you, not when the adrenaline was too high on certain times and all you had to focus was not to tackle your boyfriend in the bathroom so that you could have sex. He has a job to keep, and you have fans waiting for your next creation. So you channelled your overflowing energy into coming into the studio early—it wouldn’t be a surprise to anyone, really, if you exposed yourself that your next album would be solely inspired by your “burly yet soft like a teddy bear” lover.

If 5 years ago someone said to you that you’d undergo all these drastic changes, you’d laugh at their face. Your old self wouldn’t have approved of your decision on letting Kieran in to your life so fast in the first place.

Old you, who didn’t think of anything else but your budding career.

Old you, who was so afraid to lose whatever you had because of a stupid move, like your fellow musicians went wrong.

Old you, who thought you had too much at stake to think of something outside the music and your fans.

Old you, who learnt from your last ex-boyfriend that you had to fight your way up on your own.

“How’s the album going?” Lauren started off again, now her notes and iPad sprawled all over the table, and you took the hint to get serious. “Is there any samples we can hear of?”

“I do—”

And that was when you realise your phone—your other phone, to be exact; the one you bought for its music features so you could rest assured to keep your creative outlet as positive as possible—was nowhere to be found. Your morning commute only includes the likes of your house or Kieran’s house and work lately, so you’ve got no choice but to call your boyfriend.

“What’s up, babe?”

Kieran had made it a habit of his to rotate any pet name he could probably think of to call you. On any other circumstances, you would usually curl your fingers when someone called you by a sweet moniker of their choice—heck, your last ex fling even complained about your disdain to them. But rather than disgust this time, it was more at the weird sensation vibrating through your entire body that you found yourself rather liking them.

In fact, you had to give Kieran a big kudos for making the transition in their relationship relatively natural. While a lot of things escalated very quickly in your respective lives, it somehow felt like it just fell into their deserving place instead.

Kieran really meant it when he vowed he would prove her fears wrong, exactly the night when you decided to let him into your life.

“I left my other phone at home, can you bring them to my studio?”

“Sure thing, love,” And Lauren had to hold back her squeals when she noticed your blushing cheeks. “See you in a bit.”

Turned out, it wasn’t merely a bit to the Scotsman. How could he not be stunned when you pulled the rug from under his feet?

He was only supposed to call your other phone in order for him to bring the device to you, but as soon as he heard intently and closely to the caller ring you’ve put for him, he was rendered speechless.

The very reason why your relationship with Kieran took off on a very long slow burn into what they were now was because you were initially very averse at the idea of romantically involved with anyone. Not after what your ex had done to you, and Kieran went into diving fully realising and acknowledging the part. He’d come to embrace your flaws and your imperfections, no matter how much you hate them, because it’s what made you… you. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Including your lack of verbal affection.

The irony, Kieran would laugh at the revelation, but it didn’t matter in his opinion because it didn’t particularly equal to not meaning you love for him. You crumbling down the longstanding Berlin Wall between them was enough of a proof that you felt the same way as him.

He had before long accepted the idea that you were not fond of grandiose gestures from your significant other, nor did you like doing so to your partner. You belonged rather to the kind of people who liked spending time closely with their respective partner, be it candle-lit dinner in the iconic Aviary or be on the phone call with him for hours when he was on an away match–didn’t matter for you, really.

You preferred to express her affection into a set of discreet actions; you could be found constantly holding his hand whenever you had the chance, playing with his hair, juggling between touching the side of his face and feeling the growing stubbles on his jaw.

When he was on an away game, you would send an Uber Eats for him and whoever his roommate at that time, a little supportive note from you would be slipped in the packaging with a help of the deliveryman. Now, being Kieran’s roommate was a spot worth fighting for amongst his teammates. And recently, you let Kieran stay over in your flat every now and then.

The action spoke more than volume, per Kieran’s standard of your love for him. It might not be much, but for Kieran, it meant no more walls, no more hesitation.

So when his ears picked up the lyrics of the caller ring, Kieran was left breathless. It was a crude song, not yet mastered, so he knew it was something she only recently produced, but it was what made the effect booming throughout his body became 10 times shuddering.

I remember like it was yesterday

First kiss and I knew you changed the game

You have me, exactly, well you want it,

And I'm on it

And I ain't ever gonna let you get away

Holdin' hands never made me feel this way

So special, boy it's your, it's your smile

We so in love

You had never been fluent in articulating her feeling into words of either written or spoken form, at least to Kieran’s face, but this song–it pretty much contained every description of what you felt towards him, practically a song to profess your love to him in a very discreet way.

You are my baby love, my baby love

You make the sun come up (Oh boy, oh boy)

You're my every, everything that I could ever dream of

You are my baby love, my baby love

You make the sun come up (Oh boy, oh boy)

You're my every, every, every, everything

Been a minute and we still holding it down

Butterflies every time you come around

You make me, so crazy

It's crazy, oh baby

And I don't ever wanna be with no one else

You're the only one that ever made me melt

You're special, boy it's your, your style

We so in love

Kieran’s heart was galloping so fast it could outmatch any stallion in their prime. He could actually feel the depths of your unspoken love and affection towards him from the song, from your voice alone, despite the still-lacking quality of the product. But god damn…

If this was the aftereffect of being serenaded by you, in all of your glorious words about how you feel towards him, Kieran didn’t think he could survive another, should you make another song for him.

[football-and-fanfics]

Flashback Friday #36

Welcome back to the weekly edition of Flashback Friday. Here’s this week’s five blasts from the past😉 Happy reading! 😊 #1 Who: Virgil van Dijk Prompt: "You're such a softie." Link: click here #2 Who: Kieran Tierney & Andy Robertson Request: roommates for the Scottish NT Link: click here #3 Who: Jordan Henderson Request: breaking up a fight between two teammates. Link: click here #4 Who: Jack Grealish Prompt: "Un-fucking-believable." Link: click here #5 Who: Mason Mount Prompt: "Now what would make you say that?" Link: click here

[runningwithcoffee]

Continuing the Christmas fic reblogs, here's a sweet Christmas fic from @tommyspeakycap 😊

christmas markets

you and kieran are home in glasgow to see the christmas lights and all the markets. kieran has a surprise gift he really thinks you’ll like

for reference if you’ve never been - glasgow christmas markets

Kieran smiles as soon as the the pair of you round the corner from Glasgow Central Station, hand in hand and bundled up against the Glasgow December chill. He knows without even looking at you that you've spotted those lights he knows you love so much draped all over the front of the buildings, House of Fraser lit up like it only ever is in the city centre at this time of year. He feels your grip on his hand tighten ever so slightly in the excitement and when he does turn to you, he sees those beautiful eyes of yours lit up in adoration with all the Christmas lights glistening in them.

"God I missed this." You mutter, leaning into Kieran with that little content smile on your face as he wraps his arms tightly around you when you both stop to look up at the lights while listening to the young busker in the street outside. "London has Christmas lights." Kieran teases, mimicking the words that have been said to the pair of you continuously for the past few weeks when asked about what the plans for Christmas are. Kieran has a Boxing Day game, so Christmas Day is pretty much a write off. So the plan was so come back to Glasgow to see the Christmas lights and both of your families for dinner and early gifts before returning to London.

"Not the same and you know it." You challenge, jutting your elbow softly into his ribs. Kieran's breath hits the back of your cold neck when he chuckles, shaking his head with a smile before he leans forward to press a gentle kiss against the nape of your neck. “Fair do’s. No shitehole like your own shitehole, eh?”

Your giggle reverberates through him as you tip your head back to rest against his chest. “Exactly.” You hum, cheeks aching from the happiness contained in your smile just being with him. Kieran laughs, tugging you away to drop a fifty note down into the guitar case on the young busker before he leads you off through the crowds of people milling in the street, those walking along just like you and those window shopping with arms laden with bags full of gifts. “Smell the donuts,” you moan, eyes fluttering closed as you shuffle forward with the sway of the crowds looking into all of the markets positioned neatly side by side just passed the entrance to the subway.

“They smell class.” Kieran agrees, using his strong shoulder to create enough space for the two of you go walk towards the stall making the hot donuts, coating them in nutella and selling them to a long que of people waiting with the same watering mouths that you and Kieran have.

Kieran’s been a bit quiet all day, staring out the window on the train ride down instead of the usual joking, telling stories about training or yapping about how excited he is to see his mates and his mum and dad again. It wasn’t like him to be so quiet so even as wistful as he is now, looking at you with glossy eyes and an emotion you aren’t sure about dancing around in those pretty brown eyes. “You okay?” You mutter softly, trying to read what he won’t say. “Yeah.” Kieran quips, “Course. Let’s just get something to eat eh?”

Whether it’s the stress of this time of year with so many games to play and so little time to prepare for them on top of covid injuries mounting or just the weird feeling associated with being home for the first time in what feels like ages, you aren’t sure. But either way, you worry about him ever so slightly. Kieran isn’t the most vocal person ever, sometimes it takes a little bit of digging to get to the bottom of whatever he’s feeling. Though you’re always more than happy to do a little detective work because you love him, and you have loved him for as long as you can remember. And he’s your rock, always there, always firm, always steady no matter the weight of the world of the pace on the wind. He stands strong to wrap his arms around you and keep you safe within his hold. He’s the most amazing man you’ve ever met and your life with him is a dream.

“You’re a mess, you know.” Kieran teases, his smile so soft. Anyone else would be able to tell that the emotion in those eyes of his is pure, utter and complete adoration. “Hm?” You attempt, making his smile grow only larger in the absence of your ability to speak with your mouth full of the freshly cooked sugar doughnut and a hearty coating of nutella over your lips and mouth. “Like i said,” he shakes his head, “A mess.” The brunette uses his thumb to swipe the chocolate away from the corner of your lips as you stand tucked away behind the markets where there are very few people to bump into either of you.

“Thank you Ki.” You say quietly, subconsciously nuzzling your face into his hand now cupping your cheek. He rests his forehead against yours, pressing a gently kiss to the tip of your nose to clear the last lit but if the nutty chocolate away. “Did you see those wacky hats back there babe? Wouldn’t one of those be perfect for my nephew?“ You seem to remember suddenly, taking a tight hold of his hand to drag him back through the crowds surrounding the stalls. “Yeah super,” he agrees halfheartedly, “Yeah they’re cool but uh, there was something I-”

“You know ‘cause i haven’t gotten him anything yet. They looked so funny. Oh! And the keychains by the stall outside nandos, didn’t they look-”

“(y/n)!” Kieran cuts in quickly, tugging you round to hold onto your shoulders, “I love you. So much, more than you’ll ever know but please stop talking. There’s something i really want to show you, if you’ll come with me?” Your cheeks flush, making him laugh at you sweetly. “Yeah.” You smile, holding your hand out for him. “Yeah. Show me.”

Kieran beams, taking your hand tightly in his to lead you through all of the people walking to and from George Square where the christmas lights decorate every inch of the streets with stalls packed into the square around the big wheel and the other fairground rides for both kids and adults alike. The crowds there are thicker there, but disperse slightly where Kieran leads you to as he slows his pace in front of the huge tree decorated with the most beautiful lights being awed and ogled at by everyone anywhere near.

“This is always my favourite.” You smile, awe-struck as the lights reflect in your beautiful shining eyes. “I know, baby. I know.” Kieran can’t take his eyes off of you as he speaks, however. That tree is something of beauty, but you are perfection. You are everything. It’s doesn’t matter what was put in front of him, you would always, always be the most beautiful thing in the world to him. You take his breath away in the stands cheering his name whether it’s in the Arsenal red or the Scotland blue. You steal a beat of his heart when you descent the stairs every day whether it’s dressed for work or called you for an event by his side in a pretty dress he just immediately wants to take off and kiss every inch of your beautiful skin. You own him, every single part of him and his entire heart. Each beat thumps only more and more love for you through this body.

“You are freezing.” Kieran notes, immediately moving his fingers from your cold hands to the zipper of his thick winter jacket. You left your coat in the hotel room and though he told you again and again you’d need it eventually, you had protested that ‘it isn’t as cold here as it is in London, Kieran.’ and because he loves you, he lets you believe it. And because he loves you, he’ll do as he has done since the first day he met you and your jacket-refusing self; sheds the puffy coat off his shoulders and wraps it around you despite your argument that you didn’t need it and that it’s his, he ignores you and zips you right into it. “Don’t be silly baby, I like the cold anyway.” He shrugs, “Now go ask those people if they’ll take out picture.”

You giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek before striding off in the direction of a young couple like yourselves taking pictures of the front of the tree with the brightly lit sleigh and reindeer in front of it. They’re very happy to take your photo, and you’re pretty sure they’re going to ask for one with Kieran themselves afterwards, but you don’t care and he’s too busy with his hands shaking in nerves to think of anything else.

“Oh i hope i don’t look huge in this coat of yours.” You say on a sharp inhale, little nervous having a stranger take a picture of you, hoping it’s nice to send to both yours and Kieran’s mothers for the christmas picture this year - no matter how late this gift will come. They both really want grand babies, but that’s not quite on the cards just yet. Your kind, hilarious, loud boyfriend doesn’t answer you. “Kieran,” you repeat, just about to turn to him, “You don’t think i look-” Your hands fly to your mouth, now not even acutely aware of the fact that sweet young lady filming the entire thing as your eyes land on him.

He’s next to you still, as always. But this time, he’s down on one knee beside you. He’s down on one knee and suddenly his quiet nerves makes sense, his gentle and wistful comment about how he knows that tree will always be your favourite in the world. He knows these things. He knows then because he loves you.

“Oh my god.” You whisper, tears already filling your eyes.

“Don’t cry,” Kieran begs softly, offering you a smile as he pops open the little black velvet box to reveal the most beautiful handmade ring, crafted solely for you with his ideas and his knowledge of what you love, knowledge of what makes your eyes sparkle, your heart leap and what makes you smile that beautiful smile he loves so much. “My beautiful (y/n).” He begins, “I’ve been in love with you since the day i met you, and it’s a bit of a disgrace i waited this long to ask you this question because i’ve wanted to marry you since the very moment you first morning i woke up next to you. I knew i wanted to spend the rest of my life waking up next to you. I’ll give you my jackets every day for the rest of my life even when you say it isn’t cold. I love everything about you, even and especially when you don’t see it. I love you coming to my games, dragging me around the markets, getting chocolate everywhere, trying to do your lipstick in my car and leaving bloody bobbles everywhere you go. I’m so in love with you, (y/n) (y/l/n), and i was wondering if you would please do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

Tears stream down over your cheeks, over your hand still clasped over your mouth as you nod your head vigorously. Kieran laughs tearfully, sliding the beautiful simon engagement ring onto your left hand finger before he shoots up to his feet and envelopes you in his arms tightly. He swings you around, feeling you laugh against him. He places you gently on your feet again, leaning forward to press his lips firmly against yours as everyone around you claps, cheers and whoops in celebration. Despite the fact you don’t know any of these people, the friendly people of Glasgow are happy to crowd around you both, congratulating you and awing at both the beautiful ring and the way he looks at you, as well how bloody romantic the whole thing was.

“I love you.” You sniffle into his chest, wrapped up in him as the big wheel comes to a stop at the top to allow you to see all of the beautifully decorated square. “I love you too.” Kieran replies, “But my mum - and yours - will kill me if i don’t tell them i finally asked you.” He chuckles, for some reason making you tear up all over again. “C’mere,” he smiles, raising his phone to take the most adorable picture of you wrapped up cosy in his thick black arsenal puffer jacket, KT on the left breast above his team number with a stupid knit reindeer hand pulled over your head to keep you warm and your hand held out to showcase the ring. Kieran coos at how adorable you are and then sends it into his family group chat before switching to instagram to post the very same picture - of course promising to post the nicer ones later on in an actual post - to his public story with a little happy face, a ring emoji and the most generic, but very Kieran post.

“Finally making the mrs My Mrs❤️ merry christmas!😍”

[kierantierney3]

Masterlist

Alejandro Garnacho

Birthday post

Supporting

Couple goals

FA cup

Kieran Tierney

First holiday

Supporting each other

Christmas

Key moments

Best friends to lovers

Long distance

Halloween

Pregnancy announcement

Wedding

Soft launch

Date nights

Scotland

Pedri

Jealous boy

Obsessed

End of an era

Gavi

End of an era

Ruben Dias

Teammates sister

Summer break

Simp

Break up?

Ben Chilwell

Rivals

Martin Ødegaard

Pregnancy announcement

Norway

Injury

Arsenal player

Secret girlfriend

Lovers part 2

Simp

Funny story

Singer

Childhood friends

Kai Havertz

Father’s day

Expecting

Joao Felix

Chelsea

Long distance

Mason Mount

Soft launch part 2

Birthday post

Step dad

Relationship milestones

Break up?

Chelsea to United

New man?

John Stones

Soft launch

Step dad

Jude Bellingham

Same place at the same time

Kitten

Arsenal

Matching outfits

Birthday

Father’s day

Break up- part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

[fletchysohot]

VI.

Oh how I miss her! (feat. Andy Robertson)

Lil cheeky request from @yellowkitkieran because sometimes we all need someone else hold down the fort and write about our fave people for us so we don't have to. Kieran at Scotland camp, missing his girlfriend so bad he decides to get a 2nd opinion from a teammate about how to woo a girl. Cute and sweet.

Hope you are all enjoying int break!

Word Count: 2.2k

Days on international break have become mundane and repetitive to say the least, the weather of somehow always cold and rainy Scotland making the days seem grimmer. Kieran used to yearn for international break, the chance to play for his country and wear the crest above his heart being his favourite time of year. But this time it's different. This time he had to leave you behind and travel back up north. His heart had almost broken and shattered when he had to get out of your comfortable and warm bed to say goodbye, painfully aware that you would be out of his reach for so long. He had however not expected missing you to be this hard and painstaking. He did not account for that worry that you have somehow forgotten him would cloud his mind once in a while, even though you texted at any chance. He had also not accounted for the fact that not being able to spoil you would somehow make him feel less worthy of your time.

The man has spent the last three hours pacing his room trying to figure out how to make you feel loved and appreciated. He knows you are not the type for grand gestures like hiring a skywriter or a limousine that would take you to Scotland, although the thought has crossed his mind. He also doesn't  want it to come off as a second thought like sending you a balloon that said I love you. It was too early for that and somehow also too late for that. 

Kieran has always insisted that his one true love is the beautiful game of football. Ever since he was a wee lad his life has revolved around the ball at his feet. No matter what was happening around the man, whether it be teenage breakups or moves across the country to follow his dream, to a place where he has no friends, football had been the one constant in his life. But now after you have come into his life everything has changed and been tossed upside down.

No matter how he tries to wrap his head around the issue and live up to his own expectations, somehow none of the ideas in his mind seem to measure up to what he thinks you deserve. 

—-

And so here he is, standing at the door bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet. He stretches the sweaty fingers from the fist they have been the whole way here, trying to calm down. The man tries to stretch his neck, to hopefully get rid of the cramp that has formed between his shoulder blades. He's never been stressed to talk to any of his teammates, let alone Andy. But somehow he is thrown back in time, back to being a child about to ask one of the older kids if he can join their football game after class. Kieran considers giving up and retreating to his room and spending another five hours trying to find a way to swoon you. 

But it's too late, because the door is swinging open and he is met by the warm brown eyes of his captain.

“Kieran!” the older man sounds excited, the surprise evident on his face. 

Kieran doesn't reply, suddenly a knot is stuck in his throat, all the colour drained from his face. 

“Are you okay?” Andy's eyes fill for worry and honestly it almost makes the Kieran cry. Andy's eyes have always given away every ounce of his emotion he's feeling and now seeing himself be the reason for those same usually gleeful eyes to be full of pain and sadness and worry makes him want to scream into a pillow.

“Yeah I'm okay.” Kieran almost doesn't recognize his voice from how strained it sounds. 

Andy doesn't reply.

“I-” Kieran stammers “I- Can I come in?”

“Yes, of course,” Andy replies instantly, stepping aside so Kieran can walk into the room. “You are not making my worry less however.”

“Now tell me, what's wrong?” Andy asks Kieran, who stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, feeling the burning gaze of his friend on him. “Kieran? Sit! You are stressing me out!”

“Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” The younger scrambles to plop down on the end of the bed. Andy sits down on one of the chairs in the corner of the room. 

An awkward silence falls between the pair, the only sound is Kieran awkwardly and rather desperately running his hands up and down his thighs in an attempt to dry his hands over his pants.

“Kieran!” Andy is the first to break the silence, his voice dripping with urgency.

“I shouldn't have come here,” the younger groans. 

“I'm worried about you and I won't let you leave. You look absolutely distraught, dripping with sweat and pale as a ghost…” Andy raies an eyebrow, “and that's coming from me!”

Kieran cracks a smile letting out a heavy breath. “I need advice” he finally let's out.

“Oh God if you need me to check a spot that may be a std-” Andy exclaims, rubbing his hand over his face. 

“Ew no! Is that something that happens?” Kieran looks at him startled. 

“Oh thank God! You would be surprised and slightly concerned if you knew how often.” A heavy sigh of relief tumbles out of Andy's chest.

  “Who?” Kieran cracks a half smile.

“Did you come here to gossip or?” Andy laughs lightly, an undertone of authority still evident beneath the playful exterior. 

“Okay okay.” Kieran rubs his temple in defeat.

“Well?” 

“Okay so…” Kieran begins and pauses.

“Okay so?” Andy repeats as if to encourage Kieran to talk.

“Okay so… I miss my girlfriend.” Kieran pauses waiting for Andy to laugh, but no sounds follow, instead Andy watches him with genuine kindness and almost love in his eyes. 

So Kieran continues, “Like, it's new and I know it's silly but she's so different from anyone before. Like usually I love being here, but right now there is nowhere else I'd rather be than on her couch watching one of her stupid shows and laughing about the people on the screen or walking around London trying to find the best kebab in the whole city or trail behind her as she explores every inch of the museum, observing her never ending curiosity to learn new things in real life. Fuck I'd even gladly sit shoulder to shoulder with her on the stuffy train, just cause she needs to try a specific doughnut flavour on the other end of the city just to find out they had a store around the corner from her apartment a few days later. As long as she's next to me. Like how the hell have I fallen this bad for someone in a few months…”

He looks at Andy through his lashes, a helpless look in his eyes.

“I get you,” Andy says without much thought. The earnest look in the older's eyes almost shocks the younger, but then Kieran realises that Andy and him may not be in such different situations. It's the way Andy looks beyond Kieran's shoulder, his gaze searching for someone or something. Kieran thinks about how he's seen Andy and his wife embrace whenever they have games, how the older looks at the woman and how she looks at him. Like they are each other's light in the dark, he thinks about how Andy always sneaks off away from the other lads to call home and wish her goodnight, to read bedtime stories. Kieran thinks back to how he's never seen his captain more happy than when his son runs into his arms at games. 

Andy might not have a hot, sexy girlfriend that makes his head spin and butterflies erupt in his stomach, but he has a family. He has a wife that loves him through all the highs and lows, someone he's withstood the trials of time with. Andy has something Kieran wishes he would have with you in a few years. 

“So what can I help you with?” The curiosity in Andy's voice brings Kieran out of his little daydream. The suddenness of reality makes his cheeks sting and burn. 

“I'm not sure she knows how important she is to me,” he croaks.

“Now that I doubt. I'm sure she knows how important to you she is.” Andy softens his voice, mistakenly thinking Kieran is here looking for comfort. The slight unintended pity makes Kieran want to crawl into the ground never to be seen again.

“No! It's not that!” the words fall from his mouth like a waterfall, harsh and messy. His hands grow sweaty and shame fills his eyes. This was a mistake.

Andy straightens up, clearly slightly taken aback by the younger's outburst. The older's face is contorted in concentration, searching for an answer without having to ask. He must have noticed the panic in the eyes of Kieran.

“I wanted to ask for advice on how to make her feel special… Like you have a wife, you know these things.” He scratches the back of his neck, each word making him internally cringe and retract.

“Oh?” At first it sounds like a hiccup but based on the expression on the other man's face Kieran deduces that it was Andy who was left surprised. 

“Do you think,” Kieran is suddenly overly aware of everything around the two of them, “you might have any advice?”

“I can try.” Andy laughs, the sound making Kieran feel more safe and relaxed instantly, “Does she like flowers?”

“Uh I think she does,” Kieran says unsure of himself.

“What's her favourite flower?” Andy asks, leaning forward, waiting for an answer.

Kieran doesn't reply at first. He closes his eyes replaying every moment of the two of you together, trying to remember you mentioning flowers or plants. With each passing second his heart beats faster, his skin becoming moist again and worry creeps up his spine inch by excruciating inch.

“I don't know." Kieran's voice sounds pained and small and full of shame. His eyes are now lined by tears. 

“It's okay,” Andy says softly. “It's still early in the relationship. Maybe you just forgot at the moment. How about we go off what flowers remind you of her?”

Kieran nods.

“How about roses?” Andy offers.

“She's not basic like a rose,” Kieran instantly retorts.

“Okay no roses.” Andy nods, mentally noting down the comment, “I'll know not to get you roses too.”

The comment makes Kieran ease up again, to relax back onto the bed.

“What about lilies?” Andy asks again.

“Too posh.”

“Daisies?” “Not special enough.”

“Irisis?”

“No…” Kieran feels frustration creep into his mind at coming off so difficult when it's just flowers. It would have been so much easier if he had just known what your favourite flower is.

“What about peonies? They are very beautiful and I think those are special.”

Kieran shakes his head, eyes filling with tears again and his lip quivering. There has to be a million types of flowers in the world and none of them seem to hit the mark. 

“Okay no peonies.” Andy nods “How about you tell me what she reminds you of? Maybe then we will know what flower to look for?”

“She's like the sun. She makes every day worth waking up to and she brightens my world. Until I met her everything seemed to just be chaos but now I feel like she's pulled me into her orbit and now we revolve around each other. Like it's not been so long since we started dating but all I think about is her and I know I sound crazy and whatever but something about her just pulls me in and I can't explain it.” Kieran's face lights up as he talks about you. 

“You really like this girl huh?” Andy's smile illuminates his eyes.  

“Yeah.” Kieran feels himself blush.

“You should get her sunflowers,” Andy says,  “they are pretty and special and have the name sun in them.”

Sunflowers! Sunflowers are perfect! You took Kieran on your first date to the art museum to see an exhibit about Vincent Van Gogh and you spent hours telling him about how much you loved his art, especially the painting of sunflowers. You were wearing a lingerie set with tiny embroidered sunflowers the first time the two of you were intimate. 

“I should send Rachel some peonies,” Andy wonders to no one in particular. “It's been ages since I sent her flowers just for fun.”

Kieran smiles at the older.

“You want some company at the flower store tomorrow?” Andy asks Kieran. “I'm sure they will let us sneak out for a few hours.”

“I'd love nothing more,” Kieran grins at his friend.

As Kieran and Andy stand at the door Kieran hugs him tightly.

“Thank you so much Andy ” his voice is muffled against his friend's shoulder.

“Any time,” Andy chuckles. “I'm here to help you on and off pitch after all.”

[colorsofmyseason]

color me red

Summary: Every Arsenal player has different taste.

Pairing: None

As usual, part of my supernatural au!

-

Sometimes, Leandro wonders what he's done in all those centuries he's lived to experience such luck. He's gone through different identities, various jobs, even multiple clubs in his current life as a footballer, but he's never felt so comfortable, so belonging before. Maybe because there are a bunch of other supers at Arsenal. Maybe because they know and accept him for what he is, and don't even bat an eye when he brings a pack of blood to the breakfast table instead of a plate of beans on toast. Or maybe because they don't mind him taking a sip here and there whenever he needs it. 

Alright, so maybe there are lots of alternatives to feeding nowadays – blood packs, synthesized blood, blood pills – and Leandro will take those without comment. But he also won't refuse the opportunity to get fresh blood if he can. And now he has a myriad of beautiful men to choose from…

Martin tastes like expensive champagne. Light and sweet, flowing down Leandro's throat effortlessly like a warm drink on a cold day, yet intoxicating, making Leandro wish to drink him again and again. Yet he rarely does, because it's too delicious for his own good. He fears he doesn't deserve to experience such taste in his life.

(Also, the sight of Martin's pale white throat always catches his breath whenever he plans to do so, and he doesn't want his fang marks to ruin the beauty of such a specimen, but that's a different story).

Kieran's is different – thicker in consistency, definitely not as sweet as Martin, maybe a little piquant, but it's the aftertaste that leaves Leandro fascinated. The Scottish full-back always gives him the feeling of eating a full course homecooked meal, tasty and hearty and fulfilling, and Leandro always thinks that he won't need to feed for days after he has Kieran for a meal.

Aaron is lemon, lime, orange… anything citrusy really, so fresh and bright, but with a hint of spice underneath it. If sunshine can be turned into a flavor, Leandro thinks it must taste exactly like Aaron's blood, and it warms him up thoroughly inside like the sun coming out after a bad storm. On the other hand, Bukayo is a little too sweet for his liking, since the kid literally tastes like a truckful of cotton candy, and while it isn't exactly unpleasant, Leandro fears he might end up with diabetes at some point if he feeds from Bukayo too often. Okay, well, not literally since he can't really get diabetes, but still.

Mikel has this rich, exquisite flavor that reminds Leandro of fine dining (and yes, he's been to such places, mostly to keep up appearances, but still). And the Spaniard's blood is the closest thing to perfection he has ever tasted. Just the right amount of spice, the right texture, the right level of sweetness. Normally managers are off limits, but Mikel says he deserves it after a string of fine performances, and Leandro believes him. 

The one holding the title for the spiciest blood in the squad must be Granit. Maybe that has something to do with his personality, the vampire doesn't know. But he tastes fiery and strong and sharp, to the point it nearly scares Leandro to feed from him again. But the Swiss midfielder will just brush it off and calmly "persuade" Leandro to feed from him, and rinse and repeat.

Ben is…special. Leandro has fed from him many times since their Brighton days, and his blood always tastes the same – plain, a little dry, completely devoid of any kinds of flavor, like unseasoned food. Perhaps it has something to do with the defender being one of the most nonchalant people he knows, but it's still fascinating how someone can be so effortlessly bland. Not that Leandro doesn't enjoy it, though – he likes to savor the taste (or lack of it) in his mouth, marveling at how different it is from any other kind of blood he's drunk.

There are other guys too, with all their respective flavors and quirks, and Leandro can honestly write a whole book describing all of those, alongside a tier list of the tastiest blood within the squad. He won't do it for real, though. Not that he's scared they will find out – they're all good guys, and often make vampire jokes to him out of fun, but he just enjoys getting various tastes to feed so it won't get boring, and he appreciates his teammates for providing him with that.

And he honestly cannot ask for more.

(Also, if he much prefers the first two people more than anyone else, for reasons other than feeding, that's his personal business.)

fin

[classyburd]

cinematic parallel #2: wearing the hoops on holiday 

[kvaradonaa]

Hottest players of Euro 2024: Group A and B

1. Germany: Emre Can

Okay, bro looks like my next mistake. If he wasn't a footballer, he'd be a pop musician. And I don't mean your shitty American pop. He would be like Tarkan for the Germans.

2. Switzerland: Granit Xhaka

Okay, this one is obvious. I had to choose his earrings era photo, they really complimented his unemployed Balkan boy swag. He is my ex-boyfriend who stole my wifebeater and my golden chain from me. He listens to the most cringe rap imaginable. He drives a BMW. He will ruin your life.

3. Hungary: Dominik Szoboszlai

Another obvious choice. Look at his pouty lips, massive brown eyes and hairy legs. He is sexy and he knows it. He will thirst trap the camera whenever it focuses on him. He is a whore. He is a gay pornstar. It's a wonder he isn't banned by the Hungarian constitution.

4. Scotland: Kieran Tierney

I didn't really know who to choose. In all honesty, I know very little about this national team. But he seems neat.

5. Spain: Pedri

Sorry for being baaaaasic. To be honest, I don't really find Spain NT that attractive. If I have to choose one, it's gonna be Pedri. I love how flushed his cheeks become after playing for a while.

6. Italy: Giacomo Raspadori.

It was a difficult choice, because most of Italian players are insanely hot. But I let the Napoli fan within me win. Look at his golden eyes and Bambi eyelashes. He deserves a special mention here.

(alternative choices included Di Lorenzo, Meret, Scamacca, Calafiori, Fagioli and Pellegrini)

7. Croatia: Luka Modrić

I don't think I will surprise anyone here. Yes, I love Luka Modrić. I chose this pic of him to tell you what I'd love to do with him. It doesn’t do justice to the full scale of beauty, but we all know how Modrić looks like. Like an angel. Like an 80s mangaka's wet dream. Even as a grandpa with weird facial hair, he still has that flair to him.

8. Albania: Jasir Asani

Okay, I actually fell for him during qualifiers for one and one reason only. I won't lie to you. I mean, he is a pretty guy, but...

Size kink 😭

part 2 part 3

[longeyelashedtragedy]

For the fanfic WIP: blood, smile, gold?

ooh ok! let's see...

Did he ask for me, at the end?

Yes.  Of course he did, Dejan.  Of course he asked for you.

Sometimes he imagines when he closes his eyes on the nights when he’s all alone--A mouthful of blood calling out his name. (mare liberum)

-

It takes a while.  Leo waits, licking the last taste of Kieran’s blood off his fangs.  He looks around the room, studying everyone. 

The doors at the far end of the room bang open and Granit comes in, clean-shaven, looking young and fresh.  He’s flanked by two guards and his hands are cuffed in front of him.  He’s the only prisoner Leo has ever seen handcuffed in the visiting room. (you know this!!!)

-

“Yeah?  Sure, I’d like to see them handle this.”  Granit’s blood goes cold, then angry-hot.  It’s Taulant.  What the fuck?  “I need to see my FUCKING brother and I know he’s fucking here doing this lowlife shit.” (dangerous AU flashback 2!)

-

The elevators are so slow in this building.  They give Granit plenty of time to hold Milot’s sweaty hand and get ready in his mind.  To feel the blood pumping through his body.  To imagine the scent of guns, the way they smell when they’ve just been fired.  Tonight is going to be fucking amazing. (dangerous AU flashback--right before granit gets shot for the first time and tries to pull the bullet out like a dumbass)

-

As he slices into the man’s body in the dense trees of the forgotten park he knows too well, he feels Granit’s house keys bump against his chest.  They are like a second heartbeat.  He often smiles when he does this, but his smile is bigger now, now that he has a second heartbeat.

He uncaps tonight’s little tube, collects some of the drops of blood—a few is enough.  It is dark, but still, he can see the stain of the man’s blood leaking onto the soil.  All that clean blood, wasted now.  It’s too bad. (dangerous AU of course)

-

As soon as Kieran lets Martin out of the cage he transforms back into human Martin at last.

��See, look, you survived the scary coffin shop,” Kieran says, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me, Kieran Tierney,” Martin huffs.  “I don’t like thinking about coffins and death, alright?  That’s not weird.”

“But I’m dead,” Leo teases.

The blood seems to drain from Martin’s face, making him impossibly pale.  “I don’t like when you say that, Leo!” (omg now this fic makes me sad)

-

They don’t make it to Mikel’s bed. As soon as they take their clothes off Mikel hops onto Granit’s back and wrestles him to the floor. The power is in him now.  Granit is taller and stronger but something else takes over Mikel when he tastes blood in his mouth like this.

“Get where you fucking belong,” Granit says from his back on the floor as he grabs Mikel’s hips to try to push him off. (dangerous au christmas chapter)

-

I want to be yours.

And I want to be yours.

We can’t go back now.  This is it.

Yeah, this is it. You’re mine forever now. 

And you’re mine.  It feels like we should sign something in blood.

Yeah, well, we’re not going to do that… (ivan rakitić coming of age fic)

that was a good way to get lots of dangerous AU excerpts hahaha

smile:

The man turns, and Dejan is startled.  Last night in the pub--there’d been something odd about him, hadn’t there?  But here, in the light of day, cloudy though it is, his smile is bright and cheery, and his eyes seem to shine as Dejan sits down next to him. (mare liberum)

-

Luka bursts into weird, high laughter the way Šime had earlier.  “Oh, my God,” he says.  “You really are fucking funny, did you know that?”  Luka’s smile is so wide he almost looks crazy.  “And what about you, hmmm?  Wish I was Dejan instead of me?” (we light up the world)

-

It’s a picture of Christine in a blue dress sitting in a restaurant with a younger guy who’s got blonde curls and a smirky smile. ("bitter mutual cheating")

-

Granit arrives at his doorstep with his little suitcase, his big eyes open wide and his big smile glowing, and his mask tucked stupidly under his chin.  José is quite obviously a man of many words, and yet he can’t come up with a single one to say.

-

Erdin smiles big and pounds Granit on the back. “You’re really gonna be someone, I’m telling you. All of London is gonna know this pretty face.”

The happiness Granit feels right now…he has never felt anything like it. (dangerous au flashback--Xherdan's brother picks them up at the airport)

-

“I’m fucking great in bed,” is Dejan’s last, weak offer.

“I don’t doubt it,” Luka says.  “Not that I go around thinking about that, but I mean, it’s pretty obvious.”  He shoots Dejan a kind smile.  “Just get some sleep, Deki.  It was a good day today.  Don’t make it hard.” (sad world cup modren)

-

Granit unties the scarf and Martin isn’t exactly surprised by what he sees. They are in Mikel’s office and he is sitting there at his desk, staring at Martin.  The boss’s smile is bright and kind…and then suddenly, something changes about his face and it’s a little evil.  It makes Martin shiver.  He feels like he knows the coach so well, but then there’s always another side to him. (martin x xhakarteta threesome!)

gold:

“I’m glad it’s…I’m glad I’m with you right now,” Luka says. He smells so much like beer and the smell is going to always remind Šime of these times, now, these times when they were invincible, when they were heroes, when they were perfect, when silver was even more perfect than gold. (we light up the world--oh i'm glad this made it in, i love this last line)

somehow that's all i have for "gold" in my WIPs folder?

[yellowkitkieran]

No Scotland, No Party (Kieran Tierney)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: Kieran helps you pack for Germany and helps fight your insecurities at the same time.

“Key! Come help me, my case won't close!”

Your tongue pokes out as you climb on top of the unzipped suitcase, trying every trick in the book to get the damn thing to close. Are you trying to shove a month's worth of skincare and clothes into a single bag? Yes, but that is beside the point. Being prepared is the most important thing here; you cannot touch down in Germany and realize you forgot the very color of nail varnish you haven't touched in years but decide that is the best option. 

“My darling,” Kieran's sweet tone already has you bristling because you know what he'll say, “Why don't you just pack less-”

As Kieran rounds the corner to your bedroom, you shoot him with a glare that would make most men turn tail and run. Your boyfriend knows better though; he's well aware that your bark is far worse than your bite. For as vicious as you appear on the surface, it takes a lot for you to truly snap. So your handsome Scotsman only grins, crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe. 

“Don't finish that sentence, Kieran. I have to pack all this, I can't take anything out! I have the bare minimum already!” You probably look unhinged with your wildly waving hands and wide eyes. At least Kieran gleans some amusement from your dilemma.

“Alright love. Let's take a breather, yeah? Okay.” Kieran removes you from your perch and sets you on the bed as if you weigh no more than a bird. He smiles and pecks your forehead, ever the level headed problem solver. Though you feel heat creeping to your cheeks, you're too stubborn to say anything as Kieran pulls out the packing cubes you spent ages tetris-ing into place. 

“Hm. I’m not sure about all this. Three pairs of sneakers, two pairs of flats, and a pair heels? Darling, surely you don't need so many shoes.” Kieran shakes his head with a smile as he pulls out another larger cube bulging with jerseys and miscellaneous Scotland gear. “And I thought you were planning on stealing all my jerseys anyway, why do you need these?” 

“Because,” you snatch the cube from him and shove it back in the case, “they're vintage. They prove I'm a day one supporter! I don't want everyone thinking I'm some bandwagon fan that's only in it cause Scotland is doing well this year.”

“Come on, you know no one thinks that. All of the lads know how long you've been around, you're my day one lass!”

You quirk a brow at him, “actually, some fans have other opinions. Clearly you don't read what people say online-” 

“You know I don't, because it doesn't matter-” 

“But I do, and I don't want to give anyone an excuse to critique me while I'm in Germany. I'm there to support you, not get caught up in some tabloid headlines.” It’s silly, you know that. Opinions of faceless online trolls shouldn't have any say in your plans. It is hard to ignore though, when it pops up unprompted so frequently on social media. 

Kieran joins you on the bed and pulls you into his lap. You relish the slight scratch of his five o'clock shadow against your shoulder as he lightly kisses your neck. “Like I said, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. I know that you're there because you love me and you cannae stand the thought of watching on a screen instead of supporting me in person. That's what counts, why does anyone else's opinion matter?” 

Of course Kieran is right. As usual. Because your insecurities always resurface when the spotlight gets brighter on Kieran, and during the Euros you know there will be plenty of chatter surrounding him and his teammates. You're doing your best to mentally prepare for it, trying to get ahead of the curve to anticipate and dispel anything negative before it can surface.

Your trust for Kieran outweighs any doubts hanging over your head. So you smile at him, nodding as you put on a no-nonsense face. 

“Alright, I'll take some out.” You hold out your hands for the bag of vintage kits and remove all but two of them, your favorites that you were planning to bring regardless. Then you take out the heels (you'd rather be comfortable than be fashion forward anyway), and a dress that you packed solely because it was “wag material”. Kieran doesn't say a word, he just repacks the remaining cubes when you’ve finished your audit and then zips the case shut with ease. 

“There, all set. That wasn't so hard.” You want to be mad, but Kieran's smile ebbs any lingering frustration. It's always been that way with him. His ability to soothe your hot-headed streak never fails. So you sigh and rest your head on his shoulder instead of spitting a reply like you instinctively want to.

“I guess all that is left is to pack my carryon.” You grin at Kieran, recognizing the moment the thought crosses his mind. 

“Ah, no, before you ask, you cannae fit me in your carry on, love. I'm going on the jet!”

**********

In the future, perhaps you'll listen to Kieran more often. The only headlines you've seen online are about how brilliant of a supporter you've been. Fans are singing your praises for your decision to forgo sequestering yourself in a private box in favor of joining them in the stands. Your ability to start chants with your loud, captivating voice keeps them riled match after match. And even now at one of the many after parties, you keep the lads riled up and excited by singing along to the music pounding over the speakers. 

“We know we ain't no Argentinaaaaa…” 

Robbo throws his arm over your shoulder as the music pauses for a beat, his ridiculously oversized sunglasses knocking your temple. The whole room remains hushed for a few tantalizing moments, and when the beat drops, everyone erupts. 

“BUT WE'VE GOT JOHN MCGINN!” You can barely pick out your own voice among the players, friends and families gathered as you all belt out the lyrics to the unofficial, official Scotland Euros song. “And Robbo out on the wing!” At that, the entire room points to you and Andy, who is wearing his classic goofy smile and jumping up and down with one arm still over your shoulders. His glasses are askew now, but he couldn't care less- the entire atmosphere is electric, and you find yourself caught up in the fun and join Andy in his erratic dancing. 

You tip your head back to the ceiling, eyes shut against the strobing lights and yell the next line, “No Scotland, no partyyyy!” Like your life depends on it. “Steve Clark’s tartan armyyy!” You're in your element now, as at home among your friends as Kieran is with a ball at his feet; a fact that isn't lost on your boyfriend, who happily observes from his spot near the makeshift bar and sings along too, albeit a touch quieter than you. 

It's only when the song ends and Andy releases you that Kieran comes to find you. The volume of the music lowers a touch and gives everyone a chance to catch their breath. You grin at Kieran as he approaches, one arm sliding around your waist as he joins you near the bar. 

“Hello darling. Is that drink for me?” Your hopeful question has Kieran tipping his glass bottle of beer toward you. You greedily gulp down half of it before he manages to steal it from your claws. 

“Oi, I'm only allowed one all night! And now it's nae gonna last much longer thanks to you!” 

You giggle, then hiccup, then lightly smack Kieran’s toned chest. “Maybe if you had a line written about you in that song they'd let you have another. Cause Andy's had more than one, that's for sure!”

“Dinnae know how he got a second,” Kieran grumbles, pouting in the general direction his captain disappeared in. “Nae fair if ya ask me. If he gets two, the lot of us should get two!” 

“Ohh, you tell ‘em babe. Look at you- all angry aren't you?” You run your hands over Kieran's chest, tipsy enough thanks to the unlimited number of drinks you've been allowed to have. “Such a strong, angry little man aren't you… and so handsome! I'm a lucky lass.” you cup Kieran's jaw, thumbs rubbing over his stubble. Upon seeing the slight glaze to your eyes, a laugh rumbles out from Kieran’s chest beneath your other hand. 

“You're right pished, aren't you darling? Just how many did you have?” 

“Dinnae count,” you mumble. You're far too tired to tally them up now, especially when Kieran's warm lips meet your forehead. “When's your next match again? I hope it's not tomorrow because I'm gonna need to sleep this off.”

“Wednesday. But I have recovery tomorrow, and training every day too.” Kieran is quick to shush you when you groan, registering your protest even if it does fall on slightly deaf ears. “I know, I know, you'll miss me the entire time. You dinnae ken what you'll do with your free time. But you could go out with the other girlfriends and wives, that's an option!” 

“That's already my plan! But I want to see youuuuu- I want to see my boyfriendddd!” You jut your lower lip, two fingers finding the front belt loops of his jeans and pulling him closer. “Why do you have to be so good at what you do? You should slip a few times in training so you don't have to go back. Then you could spend time with me!”

“Well, I'm no John McGinn. But I am out on a wing, so I guess I'm sort of like Robbo- clearly not as good as him but hey, but I'll take it.” Kieran’s smile turns your knees to goo. It's lucky he's got a firm hold on you or else you'd be a puddle on the floor at this point. “Why don't we head to our room for now then? We can party more when we win, yeah? For now let's get you into bed.”

A pitiful whine bubbles past your lips. “I want to stay outttttt! You haven't even danced with me yet- and that's a crime! Shame on you for not dancing with your girlfriend!”

“I- hey!” Kieran rubs his arm where you just pinched him, frowning down at you. “Well, I was going to offer to dance with you now, but I dinnae ken if I should after that abuse!”

“You have to! I'm not leaving until I get a dance with my handsome, lovely, song-worthy winger of a boy-” 

Kieran's kiss cut you off, which while mildly surprising, is somewhat expected. It's his favorite way to distract you from any argument and it works fairly well. And when he gets a bit cheeky and grazes his tongue over your lips, you're putty in his hands. You would pluck the moon from the sky and place it in his cupped hands if he wished it. 

Stars buzz in your vision when he pulls away. You laugh, fingers interlocking behind his neck. “Alright. Back to the room it is.”

[oh-saints]

dating kt includes?

oooOOOOOOH this gif had to be there if we wanna talk about boyfriend!KT because

he might not be the most expressive boyfriend but you just know he's the type of guy who goes all-in for his partner. "you want it, i get it" kind, you know?

he learns that the limelight his career brings can put a strain on your romance journey so he tries so hard to keep you away from it, he simply can't lose you because of it

therefore no PDA but it's obvious you're ALWAYS on his mind. the bracelet, the wristband on his left hand are his top 2 love declarations tbh

he's seriously considerate towards his girlfriend. like your comfort and your well-being comes first when he decides the place for your date

which leads to having dates on your home. candlelit dinner with homecooked foods, followed by netflix and cuddle and all that because you both are the biggest homebodies

and by cuddle WE MEAN HIM BEING THE BIG SPOON although he'd say "i'll shoo away the ghost" when you confront him

he loves to touch you whenever he can, on top of it, because it grounds him a lot and it's important aspect of his life to stay grounded

so his fave moments with you are whenever you go down to the tunnel and hug him right after his matches, the smell of your hair calms the adrenaline down quickly because you're there and that's enough for him

yes, that means quality time and physical touch are his top 2 love languages

oh and a special spotify playlist dedicated to you, for you, and at you because he can AND HE WANTS

do i need to also mention that he's a beast at sex and will take you away to secluded yet beautiful spots whenever he can to make the sex better?

[football-and-fanfics]

Flashback Friday #34

Welcome back to the weekly edition of Flashback Friday. Here’s this week’s five blasts from the past😉 Happy reading! 😊 #1 Who: Jordan Henderson & Trent Alexander-Arnold Prompt: "It was just a dream." Link: click here #2 Who: Mason Mount Prompt: Feeling his breath on your skin Link: click here #3 Who: Kevin de Bruyne Prompt: "No, sit down, you're not allowed to walk that much." Link: click here #4 Who: Kieran Tierney Request: confessing his love to a childhood friend. Link: click here #5 Who: Christian Pulisic Prompt: "Here, have my jacket." Link: click here

[redeyedroid]

A lot of the great rivalries in sport aren’t really. We create narratives and imagine storylines that don’t really fit the reality. Serena beat Maria Sharapova twenty times and lost twice, but their contrived rivalry has it’s own Wikipedia page. Tennis’s Big Four was really Federer, Nadal and Djokovic far ahead of Andy Murray, who was just as far ahead of everyone else (unless we’re talking Olympic gold medals, of which Murray has twice as many as the other three combined.) Stephen Hendry crushed Jimmy White in snooker final after snooker final. Nikki Lauda won twenty-five Grands Prix and three Formula 1 titles; James Hunt ten and one. There’s a decent movie about them that makes it look more even than it was. At the end of fourteen of the last twenty series, Australia’s men have held the Ashes and England's women haven't done much better (though, to be fair here, there's a galaxy of more stories to it than that). And so on. Equals that go through long phases of being very unequal. Or never were. 

But there are some rivalries between objective unequals that don’t play out the way they should.  

First played in 1872, the oldest fixture in international football is England versus Scotland. England have won the World Cup (which – in my Scottish opinion - really should come with an asterisk or two attached). They were beaten finalists at the last Euros (to be Scottish about it again, they do best when they rig the draw so they can play all their matches at home, at Wembley). They aim at finals, semi-finals. Grudge matches against Germany and Argentina and big ones against France or Brazil. 

Scotland have never played a knock-out match at a tournament. Our men have only qualified for one in the last quarter-century (though, unlike our neighbours, who have decades of penalty pain to look back on, we are perfect in shootouts.) Only one Scot, Kim Little, has ever scored the winning goal in a full international against Brazil. Our men have never beaten them. On the global stage, most often we lose and most often we fail, because that is what we have always done.  

Our players are collectively not as good as England’s. Even our good players are undervalued. Andy Robertson, probably the best left-back in world football over the past five years, cost Liverpool £8m. The most expensive transfer involving a Scot was the £27m Arsenal paid Celtic for Kieran Tierney. Chelsea paid PSV £30m recently for an uncapped English player called Nomi Madueke. Nobody would be surprised if it turned out he's actually a Football Manager regen. Prising the equally uncapped and not very good Englishman Aaron Wan-Bissaka from Crystal Palace cost Manchester United £50m.

Before she moved to Real Madrid, the absurdly good playmaking midfielder, Caroline Weir would regularly – casually - dominate matches in the WSL for Manchester City, racking up a collection of goals that by rights, should have won her at least one Puskas Award. 

(I didn't fuck up the links. The last two are different goals.) 

But it would feel like precious little footage of her, or Kim Little, or Erin Cuthbert would make it into promos or prematch coverage that preferred to feature far less talented English players..  

England: a team world famous multi-millionaires playing the biggest matches on the biggest stages.

Scotland: not often – if ever – that. 

And yet, 150 years of history gives an all-time record in men's football of 48 England wins, 41 Scotland wins, and 24 draws. 195 goals for England. 171 for Scotland. The last game, played at Wembley in 2021 during the pandemic-delayed Euro 2020 ended 0-0, with Scotland having the best of it. 

I think – and I probably am very wrong - this is because there’s a difference in how the match is perceived these days. As the gap in talent has grown in one direction, the gap in attitude has grown in the opposite.

Before that match in 2021, Rio Ferdinand was on English coverage saying, "It’s a huge game. I can’t wait. Nothing to fear, and we will go down and get our seat and watch it. Looking forward to it. England are going to win. I can’t see anything else, I’m telling you. I’ve never been this confident about a game in a major championship." 

Meanwhile, on the Scottish feed, they were showing this: 

We used to play annually, but those days are gone and it feels like the English have moved on, that the fixture stil matters to them only because of history and because the Gammonscenti among them are upset that a lot of Scots want independence and the breakup of the United Kingdom. But, on the whole, they aim higher and a game against Scotland doesn’t live in their heads the way it does for Scotland.

For Scotland, there is only England. When we don’t play them, we live in perpetual annoyance at anglocentric TV coverage during tournaments we aren’t even at. When we do make it, we get more annoyed, because – fairly or not – we feel we’re treated as afterthoughts by broadcasters that ostensibly cover the whole UK. And so, England must lose. Preferably to us, but anyone is acceptable. We’re fuelled by grievances real and imagined; schadenfreude; a desire to see the ruin of our enemies; and a weird sporting inferiority complex that affects the whole country.

(And, let’s be honest, that fucking song was tedious when it was released in 1996, long before it was shorn of all nuance by the hordes of pink-faced cretins who only know three words of it).

If England were playing the Fascist Red Spiders From Mars, most Scottish football fans would be sitting there, rooting desperately for the Fascist Red Spiders. 

It matters to England because it matters to Scotland, but they underestimate how much it matters to us. Because, pathetically, we have nothing else. 

On September 12 the men’s teams will play a friendly at Hampden in Glasgow to celebrate the 150th anniversary of the Scottish Football Association. On the 22nd, the women’s teams play in the Nation’s League. England should win both. They are better teams with better players. And it’ll hurt if they do. But it won’t be because the Scots haven’t performed, haven’t given their best. Somewhere in their preparation, someone will have pointed out that “It’s fuckin' England. Let’s get intae these cunts” and they'll come out looking like they’re about to chib someone. 

(No, really. Set Robertson to malky!) 

If England show up thinking that it’s a foregone conclusion, or that they can roll substitutions, or that they need to avoid injury ahead of their Champions League game next week, they’ll find themselves in trouble. They have more than enough class to win, but the Scots have the fight. 

[kierantierney3]

KT request 🧡 Would love to ask for a social media au of them just touring around Glasgow and other spots around Scotland?

The one where they go to scotland

Thank for the request. Defo asking the right person since i’m Scottish 🫡

Masterlist

—-

yourusername

liked by kierantierney, user190 and 44,910 others

yourusername Day trip to Edinburgh, the start of the Scotland tour my boyfriend forced me on. 😘

view all comments

kierantierney Forced? you were up till 4am last night planning the perfect outfits for Scotland 🤣

^yourusername Don’t expose me like that^

user OMG they are back in scotland???????

yourusername

liked by kierantierney and 39,820 others

yourusername Fancy buildings, lots of shops and shopping centre lots of money being spent. My first day out in Glasgow.

view all comments

kierantierney ❤️

user I could have seen them 😢

user I hope to meet you both of the street, i live in Glasgow.

kierantierney story

yourusername story

yourusername

liked by kierantierney and 54,259 others

yourusername I don’t think i’ve ever seen such an amazing view, the highlands are amazing, would highly recommend to anyone! If i thought Edinburgh view were amazing these are 100 times better.

kierantierney Move to the highlands?

^yourusername Yes please 🙏🏻 ^

user I’m so jealous i get such bad car sickness i could never

user Okay but you need to visit Scotland again and for longer!

^yourusername Agreed, already forcing my boyfriend to write me a list of places to visit for next time!^

—-

Quite a short one, also timing doesn’t match up but oh well!! Wanted to get this out quickly because i lowkey forgot about it??? don’t know how but sorry.

[fletchysohot]

II.

Sleepy Kisses

Lil' 1.2k sleepy pondering about Kieran idk what else to tell you lot

As far as new relationships go dating someone who had a schedule just as busy as yours had been hard to say the least. It was almost like the two of you were just two ships in the night most of the time, having to settle for mostly FaceTime calls and texts. That had not kept you from falling head over heals for Kieran in just a few months. His accent didn’t help much when it came to not seeing heart eyes. The two of you had finally found a night where you were both free and in London. You had been dying to have a proper date night, but the thought of paparazzi’s and prying eyes had instantly put both of you off the thought of going out in public. You wanted to savour the intimacy of the honeymoon period without speculation about what this was even before either of you had the answer that question for yourselves. 

So when Kieran had offered a movie night at his apartment you had jumped at the opportunity. On paper it was the perfect date idea for both of you. However what you did not account for was that both you and Kieran were exhausted from traveling, games, training and work. So when one movie had turned into a mini marathon both of you had fallen asleep on the couch, tangled together into a mess of limbs. 

You both woke up in the middle of the night looking at each other grinning at each other. Originally the plan had been for you to drive home after the movie but now was too late for that. Kieran had suggested you just sleep at here, he even offered to take the couch while you enjoyed the comfort of his big bed. You had called him a muppet for even thinking that you didn’t want to spend the night tucked safely in his arms, breathing in his scent, wearing one of his old t-shirts,

——————————————————————————————————

When you woke up the early morning sun filled the room with a pale light, making everything seem quiet and peaceful. You opened your eyes letting them adjust to the light. The room around you was quiet, filled only with the hum of distant traffic mixed with the slow and steady breaths of the sleeping man next to you. 

You watched as his sculpted chest rose rhythmically, his lips slightly ajar. You could lay here and watch him sleep forever, you thought. You wanted to spend eternity studying the way his rosy cheeks faded into the pale skin of his cheekbones. Your hand twitched at the urge to run your fingertips along the porcelain like skin draped over his boyish features. You bit your lip, holding your breath, when his eyes fluttered under his closed lids for a second, worried he would wake up and catch you staring, but much to your delight he did not stir awake instead letting out a content hum. A sigh of bliss escaped your lips at the chance to spend just a little while longer admiring your sleeping boyfriend. You wanted to savour each inch of his body, meticulously filing away each inch of Kieran in your memory. You wanted to be able to recall each freckle and every mole that covered his body even when the two of you were apart. To trace them like consolations in your mind whenever you couldn’t manage to fall asleep and counting sheep seemed redundant. You wanted to map out the way his slender fingers fell on to the blanket, how his arms bled into those strong shoulders, how the muscles that shaped his chest moved with each breath. 

You allowed yourself the luxury to get lost in the way his hair was a mess atop his head, loose strands falling against his forehead, framing his brow perfectly. He would probably say he needed a haircut, but all you thought he needed in this moment was your fingers tangled in his locks. 

He looked like a statue that may belong in the Louvre or Vatican museum. Perfectly still and breathtakingly beautiful, most certainly crafted by the hands of the most talented artist on the globe. The only thing indicating he was not cut from marble, shaped specially for you was the boyish pink of his cheeks and lips. His lips. They looked much like a juicy peach would, sweet and delectable on a hot summer day.  

All you wanted in this moment was to hold his perfect statuesque face and taste those lips. To kiss him till you were both breathless, for the only sound filling the room to be both of you gasping for breath, grinning like idiots. However you did not want to wake him, to disturb the beautiful sight of his serene state. To intrude on something as celestial and pure as this moment, seeing him illuminated by the morning sun, much like if he was some mystical being sent to walk amongst the living. 

You shifted closer to him, trying your best to not disturb him, wanting to soak up the warmth his beauty was emitting, your faces inches apart. His breath hitting your body, creating the familiar tingle of goosebumps appearing wherever it hit your skin. You would only need to move a millimetre to connect your lips. To taste him, let him fill you with a sense of life and belonging. But instead your eyes scanned the way his lashes curled, the way his nose curved, the way his perfect lips curved.

“I swear if you don’t do it I will” Kieran’s scratchy morning voice sapped you out of your trance making your cheeks burn with embarrassment. His eyes were still closed as a lazy smile danced on his lips.  

You didn’t reply, not trusting your brain to form a sentence in your embarrassed state. 

“Well?” He asked opening his eyes, rising an eyebrow.

The moment your eyes met his you could swear you were a goner. You felt like you had died and gone straight to heaven. You were usually weak in the knees for his glance, but something about the way he looked at the moment, innocent and pure, the softness of sleep still evident in his hazel eyes, made you lose any ability to think. Maybe it had something to do with the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world, like you had hung the stars in the sky. You wanted to wake up to this every single day for the rest of your life.

You opened your mouth but no words came out, making Kieran chuckle. He leaned forward connecting your lips. Your hands instantly cupped his jaw as you felt a grin spread against your lips. You felt like the world around the two of you disappeared and this moment of pure bliss would never end. The way his lips lazily moved against yours, with no rush making your heart skip a beat. And at that moment, in the privacy of Kieran’s bedroom you knew there was no way back. You had fallen in love and there was nothing in the world that could change that.