Sequel to “On The Pitch” — Read here
footballer AU / English Premier League
*thank you to @great-merlins-beard for beta reading*
No one moves like Baz Pitch.
When he strides off the pitch after a loss, he’s hard lines and head high, and I know that it’s going to mean bruising kisses and soft hands everywhere as he tries to prove to himself he’s good enough.
According to him, it’ll have been my fault he lost, of course. “You didn’t kiss me before I played,” he’ll whine as I rock into him. Hours or sometimes even days later he’ll still be thinking about it, even as he’s lying beneath me. “You have to kiss me next time.”
When he wins, he comes flying off the green and he’s all anxious energy and tentative smiles and I know that it will mean being held from behind as I try to make dinner and whispered comments and sly dancing in the kitchen. As always, he’ll say they won because of me.
“You’re my good luck charm,” he’ll whisper, his voice soft and bashful as he advances and backs me against the wall. “You always have to kiss me.”
We don’t say I love you. We say things like that instead.
READ MORE ON AO3
Gosh dang you beautiful human. This fic is friggin amazing
Off The Pitch
Published
take time to figure it out 