mads

group b consists of canada, switzerland, bosnia and herzegovina, and qatar!

CANADA:

Owen Goodman, goalkeeper, #18

this was a very hard decision between him and nathan saliba (nathan's my honorable mention btw)

SWITZERLAND:

Aurele Amenda, defender, #24

Bosnia and Herzegovina:

Esmir Bajraktarevic, forward, #20

Qatar:

Pedro Miguel, defender, #2

summary: you go on a school trip to explore the vast beauty of barcelona, spain. what you don’t expect, however, is falling for lamine yamal in a series of secret hang outs over the course of your trip.

warnings: fluff

pairing: lamine yamal x reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 6.4k

this was also cross-posted on my ao3! @bestiemads

a/n: i wanted to make this because i obviously love lamine but also i wanted to highlight that he is still pretty young! lamine is only 18 but he’s been in the public eye since he was about 15. so i wanted this story to highlight the deep emotions of being young and in love but also touch on being in the spotlight so young. i hope i achieved that with this!

⚽️⚽️⚽️

A school trip was always fun. A school trip to Barcelona, Spain: beyond that.

In April of my junior year, my high school announced its annual international trip during the morning announcements.

“Now, the news you’ve all been waiting for. Our school’s international trip location next year is… Barcelona, Spain! The applications open up tomorrow at 8 AM. More details will be in an email sent later tonight. Have a good rest of your Tuesday!”

My friends and I couldn’t contain our excitement. All of us had told each other we’d apply for whatever trip the school chose for our senior year. Now that we knew it would be in Spain, we were ecstatic.

I filled out the application by the end of the week. My parents were hesitant about the projected price, but I assured them I would work my ass off to pay for the trip myself. 

About a month later, the email dropped during my pre-calculus class, telling us if we had gotten into the trip. I hesitantly opened the email, but was elated when the word “Congrats!” was the first word I read.

“I got in!” I exclaimed. My other friends joined in the joyous celebrations because they, too, had gotten in. We were all going to Spain together. Life couldn’t get any better than this.

—————

“We are currently descending upon our destination of Barcelona, Spain. Please fasten your seatbelts. Thank you,” the pilot announced over the intercom. As I clicked my seatbelt into place, I looked out my window and was greeted with the view of the vast expanse of Barcelona, Spain.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful,” I said to my friend, who sat to my right. She peered over my shoulder, also gawking at the beautiful foreign city below us.

We finally landed in Josep Tarradellas Barcelona-El Prat Airport, wheeling our luggage through the massive building. We finally made it to the exit of the airport, where our tour guide’s bus was waiting for our arrival. They were taking us straight to the hotel, since we landed in the nation at 6 PM. 

Once we arrived at our hotel, my teacher stopped the group of 20 of us before we could exit the vehicle. He informed us we had the freedom to go anywhere for dinner that night and explore a bit, but we had to be back by 10:00 PM. The teachers would also text us every 2 hours to check in. As their explanation wrapped up, they handed us 20 Euros for our dinner expenses that night. If we went over, we had to use our own funds. 

My friends and I quickly put our bags in our rooms so we could head out on the town. We decided to eat at this restaurant/bar that had high Google ratings and was only a few minutes' walk from the hotel.

My friends and I had vowed that on this trip, we were going to have the best time, which included having a good time at the bars at night. I mean, our plan wasn’t necessarily illegal. The legal drinking age in Spain is 18, which the 6 of us are. But drinking on the trip is strictly against school policy. To prevent our chaperones from finding out, we just had to be sneaky and not get stumbly-drunk. That’s all. 

The bar was pretty separate from the restaurant, so our dinner wasn’t mingling with the bar-goers. Once we finished up our delicious meals, we headed to the other half of the establishment.

The bar was full of chatter, Spanish music, and many people our age. We scanned the drink menu and decided to get some fizzy, fruity drinks that were also common finds in the US: a nice way to ease into the new country. 

“I can order for the 6 of us. We can just split the bill 6 ways at the end of the night,” I offered, which my friends happily agreed to. I went up to the bartender and ordered 3 raspberry White Claws, 2 blackberry ones, and one strawberry one. 

“Pretty creative drink selection,” a man commented on my right. He had also just finished ordering from the bartender and was now awaiting his drinks.

“What’s wrong with a couple of White Claws?” I sarcastically replied. The man chuckled, a toothy grin accompanying the laugh.

“Tourist, huh?” he inquires, obviously knowing the answer.

“Yeah, we are. We’re technically here on a school trip, though,” I reply as his eyes widen.

“Your school’s letting you drink on a school trip? Are you in uni or something?” he asks, bewildered. 

“No to both, actually. We’re doing the number 1 thing they told us not to do, but as long as no one tattles, we’re good,” I reply, a grimaced look stretching across my face. Why’d I tell this stranger all this stuff? 

I looked over at the stranger, an amused smile etching his face.

“I like you. If I were in your shoes, I’d never have the balls to do that. Plus, my school’s hella strict anyway. They’d have access to every security camera in the city to track us down,” he replies. I look at him, confusion stretching across my face.

“Wait, you’re in high school, too?” I turn my body to fully face the man. 

“Here in Spain, we call it bachillerato, but yes, I am.” He also turns his body to completely face mine as he responds.

“Lamine,” he introduces himself as he sticks out his hand to give me a handshake. I gladly accept, and reply by telling him my own name. As we do so, our respective bartenders hand us our drinks.

The rest of the night, I talk to my new friend, Lamine. He tells me all about bachillerato, and I tell him all about high school. He basically just asked me if it was like the movies, and I explained how some parts were, and some weren’t. He also told me how he played soccer, or as he called it, fútbol. He explained to me how it was his one true passion and how he’d been playing since he could walk. 

“The last time I played soccer competitively, sorry- fútbol- was when I was like 8. I only played cause my league gave out donuts afterwards,” I confess, which made Lamine laugh really hard. 

“The ones with sprinkles?” he questions further.

“Oh, you know it.” He laughs again, and I join him. Our conversations had flown exceptionally well throughout the night, as if we had known each other prior to tonight. 

Then, amidst another one of our conversations, my friend tapped my shoulder and informed me that we needed to leave so we could make it back to the hotel on time.

“Sorry, I gotta go. It was amazing getting to know you, though,” I said, getting up from my seat at our two-seater table.

“Me too! Before you go, though, let me give you my Snapchat so we can keep in touch. Maybe we could meet up another time before you go?” he suggests. I nod in agreement, handing him my phone so he can input his information. 

“See you later, Lamine!” I waved to the man as I exited the bar with my friends. He waved back, a huge smile sweeping across his face. A similar one etched across mine, as well.

————

“So, who was that cutie you were chatting with at the bar?” My friend, who’s also my roommate, asked once we had gotten settled for the night in our room. I blushed at the memories that flooded my head at his mention.

“Oh, that’s Lamine. He’s our same age and from around here. He’s so funny and incredibly sweet; he even gave me his Snapchat so we could keep in touch. He actually just texted me and said he wanted to see me again this week,” I relayed to my friend. 

“Well, did you stalk him on socials? You know, make sure he isn’t a creep or anything?” she asked. 

“To be completely honest, I didn’t think of doing that,” I replied, opening Snapchat to stare at his bitmoji and profile. It was a normal Snapchat for all accounts. His snap score, however, was a bit high, but I didn’t dwell on that too much. 

“Why not try? Better to be safe than sorry,” she said, absentmindedly scrolling through her photos app as she sorted through her photos from tonight.

“You know what, I agree. I’m gonna do it now,” I replied, swiping out of Snapchat and opening my Instagram. I typed his name into the search bar, not expecting to find anything. What came up, however, was the last thing I was expecting.

My mouth hung agape as I scrolled through his Instagram. I assumed it would take me a while to find his account, but it instead took me mere seconds. We also had mutual followers, like a lot of them.

“Oh. My. God,” were the only three words I could formulate.

“What? Is it bad?” my friend asked, placing her phone down and looking over at my phone screen from her bed.

“I mean, no, I don’t think so. He just has like 40 million followers because he’s a famous soccer player for Spain’s World Cup team and FC Barcelona,” I frantically explain.

“You’re fucking kidding.” She got out of bed to take a closer look at my phone screen. My brain couldn’t wrap around the fact that the man I had been so easily talking to all night was a professional soccer player. And a really good one for that matter. 

Almost on cue, Lamine texts me on Snapchat, asking me what my schedule is so we can plan our next hangout. 

“This is actually out of a fucking movie. Holy shit. You were flirting with a World Cup soccer player all night! Happy first day of the trip to you!” my roommate squealed, flopping herself back onto her bed.

“Yeah,” I sat there in complete shock. This amazingly kind stranger I hit it off with at the bar was a soccer superstar. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact. 

The rest of the night, I stalked him on every social media platform I could find: bad idea. He had been in public relationships with a some stunning women in the past. He didn’t have the photos with them on his Instagram anymore, but TikToks about his relationship timelines still had all the evidence. All I did was sit and overthink our night together. 

Was he just being friendly? Did I misread his signs as flirtatious? Wait, I shouldn’t be thinking like this at all. I mean, for God’s sake, I had only spoken to this man for a few hours at a bar! I barely even know him!

In between my stalking, I was texting Lamine on Snapchat. Pretty creepy, I know. We genuinely talked for so long, and each flirty text he sent made my heart flutter. 

This was gonna be a long week.

————

Lamine and I decided to meet up the next evening. We had free time before we had to meet up for nightly check-ins, so he took me to a park he recommended. We got some fun smoothies at a place he liked, and walked around the park with those drinks. 

“This place is beautiful,” I said, looking around the park.

“It’s my favorite place mi madre used to take me to when I was a kid,” he said, taking a sip of his perfectly concocted drink. 

“That drink you ordered sounds so good. I mean, I would’ve never thought to combine guava juice with strawberry puree, but it sounds incredible,” I note, looking at his pink and orange-colored drink. 

“You wanna sip?” he asks, tilting his cup towards me.

“Oh, sure,” I reply, surprised. I wasn’t expecting him to offer me a sip, but I gladly accepted. The drink tasted just as good as I imagined. 

“Holy shit, Lamine. That’s good,” I say after I swallow the liquid. I felt his lingering stare on me after I drank the smoothie, which made my face heat up. 

“Is there something on my face?” I ask, wiping around my face to feel if anything was truly on my face.

“No, you just look beautiful,” he commented. If my face wasn’t already red, it definitely was now.

“Lamine, stop it,” I said, hitting his shoulder playfully. He gasped like my hit actually hurt him. 

The next day we went to brunch at a local spot. The day after, we went night swimming in the Gulf of Valencia. Were we supposed to be swimming? No. Did we get caught? No. So, no harm no foul! 

The day after our night swim, Lamine told me he could only hang out in the early afternoon due to prior commitments in both the morning and the evening. So, the only time we could see each other was in the early afternoon. That would not, however, work with my schedule due to my school’s pre-planned excursion to Mercat de la Boqueria. This was a very famous market in Barcelona, which is why we were going there to learn about the place and its history.

When we entered the building, I was taken aback by its pure being. The market was gorgeous. All the food smelled delicious. The items they sold were stunning. I was beyond ecstatic to explore the market. 

My friends and I were walking through the market with our tour guide as he explained the extensive history of the establishment. We gawked at basically everything we saw and heard from the guide. As I examined one of the stands from afar, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see which one of my friends it was, but I was instead met with the beaming face of Lamine. 

“Fancy seeing you, here,” Lamine continued to beam, a sly tone present in his voice. My eyes widened in shock. I immediately grabbed his bicep and pulled him to the back of my group before I responded, making sure he was generally out of my teachers’ line of sight. 

“Lamine! What are you doing here?” I whisper-yelled at the man.

“I’m just here to shop!” he lied straight through his teeth.

“For what?” I interrogated, more playful now. 

“Hmm, let's see… some bread, carrots, and… bananas?” He came up with random foods off the top of his head. We both giggled at the stupidity.

“You never told me you were gonna meet me here! If my school finds out you’re here to see me, they’ll be so angry. We could’ve planned it better,” I reply.

“Wow, what makes you think I’m here to see you? I just told you I was here to buy bread, cheese, and bananas, and I just happened to run into you, beautiful.” He grazed over the word as if it were the most natural thing in the world, even as my stomach erupted in butterflies.

“Umm, you actually said carrots, not cheese,” I teased as he rolled his eyes. 

“They both start with ‘c,’ they’re basically the same thing,” he replied. Lamine continued through the market the rest of the afternoon with me. He never left my side, even when my friends gave me knowing, smug glances.

After a few hours in the market, our teachers informed us that we only had a few minutes left before we had to depart. I pulled Lamine to the side where there were very few people, and told him the news. 

“I’ll text you tomorrow to see how we can coordinate to see each other,” he said, rubbing his thumbs along my knuckles. We were looking deep into each other’s eyes as both of our hands were grasped in the other’s. I could tell we both wanted to kiss each other, but we didn’t know how to say it. So, I took the liberty upon myself to do so. 

“Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I leaned up into him and placed a kiss on his lips. He wasn’t expecting the kiss, so he didn’t immediately kiss me back. I thought I had misread the signs he gave the past few days, so I began to pull away. As I began to do so, he immediately placed his hand on the back of my head, pulling me back in. We became lost in the kiss, smiling and laughing into the moment, too. 

Once we pulled away, he pulled me into a hug. He leaned close to my ear and whispered, “I’ve been wanting to do since we first met.” I couldn’t help but giggle as my face grew pink. 

“Me too, Lamine. But, I gotta go now,” I say as I begin to walk away from the soccer player’s embrace. He grabs me and pulls me into another kiss, which I don’t hesitate to accept. We pull away, and he continues to attack my lips with a lot of little pecks.

“Lamine! I’ve got to go! Stop it!” I exclaim, pathetically trying to push the man off of me, as I continue to erupt in fits of giggles.

“Fine,” he places a final, longer kiss on my lips. 

“I’ll text you when I get back to the hotel, okay?” I inform him, and he nods in response. I finally leave his embrace, waving bye to the man as we head our separate ways.

Once I made it back to the group, my teacher was already giving me a knowing look.

“Sorry, I got… lost in the crowd,” I lied. The teacher nodded sarcastically in my direction, then turned around to lead us out of the market. 

“Lost in the crowd? More like lost in Lamine's mouth!” my friend whisper-exclaimed into my ear. I gasped at her comment and hit her arm.

“Shut up!” I yelled at her in anger, even as a small smile etched across my lips. 

————

Each time Lamine and I hung out after that day, it was like I was living out a dream. Even if our hangouts lasted 3 hours or only 1 hour, we made the most of each one. I think I experienced more of Spain’s authentic side through Lamine than my school showed me. Through these hangouts, he eventually opened up to me about fútbol and his fame that came along with it. I just listened to him, allowing him to tell me everything- the good and the bad. He told me many times how he liked how I just listened, and didn’t give my opinion on every part of his public career. I was just glad he trusted me enough to open up like that. 

On the last day, Lamine and I had very conflicting schedules that didn’t allow us to hang out until the evening.  We were sad we only had a little time to hang out, but we were glad we did.

Little did Lamine know, however, that we would see each other before that evening. 

See, a part of the trip’s itinerary was to take us to a fútbol game because the sport was such an important part of the country’s culture. This game was Deportivo Alavés versus FC Barcelona, aka Lamine’s team. I decided not to tell him and make my appearance a surprise. 

For the afternoon match, I decided to wear a shirt Lamine had given me. It was an FC Barcelona t-shirt that resembled a jersey, with his name and number on the backside. 

I came out of the bathroom with the shirt on, and my roommate gave me a smug look. 

“Does he know we’re coming?” she asks, touching up her eye makeup.

“He has no clue,” I smugly reply, texting Lamine, “good luck” as I tell her. 

We arrived at the stadium early, so our tour guide could give us a tour of the stadium as well as explain the history and significance of fútbol in regards to Spanish culture. Every detail was fascinating, but my mind was focused on one particular person the whole time. 

After our brief history lesson, our tour guide brought us to the barricade so we could watch the players on both sides warm up. I immediately spot Lamine in the crowd of players, juggling the ball with practiced ease. There are other fans surrounding us, screaming his name among his teammates’ as well, trying to garner their attention. 

“Come on! You gotta yell for him to see you!” my friend nudges my shoulder.

“I don’t want to. I would lowkey feel rude. Plus, he won’t hear me over all these other fans,” I reply, my eyes still fixated on number 10 on the pitch. My friend nods in understanding as he relays her focus back to a guy on Deportivo Alavés who she thought was cute. 

My hope began to dwindle that Lamine would see me before the game as the warm up continued. I mean, it was partially my fault because I made no effort to make my presence known. But that just felt rude to me. So, I resorted to waving profusely every time he turned towards my direction. Could that be seen as even more obnoxious? To some, maybe, but I’d rather be waving than yelling. 

Towards the end of warmups, he got closer to the stands to do some sideline drills. Now, people were furiously yelling at him and his teammates to get their attention, since their proximity was much closer now. When Lamine completed his part in the sideline drill, he got to the back of the line and turned to face the crowd of fans. He smiled at the group and waved back at everyone. I continued to wave too- a bit embarrassingly-desperate, I might add- to get his attention. His eyes scanned from left to right as he waved at all the crowd. His sight landed on me, and I waved really feriociously at that moment. Lamine originally whisked his sight right over me, but almost immediately averted his gaze back to my frame after he did so. 

He squinted his eyes to see better, and once he realized it was me, his entire face grew bright in joy. My expression mirrored his, as I continued to wave at him from the stands.

Then, unexpectedly, he came up to the edge of the stands where I was to stand directly in front of me. The fans around me went crazy, my friends laughed knowingly, and everyone else in my school’s group stood incredibly dumbfounded at the sight unfolding in front of them.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming!” he exclaimed.

“I’m just here to watch a fútbol game,” I mocked the reply he gave me days prior at the market. He smiled, immediately catching the callback. 

“You don’t understand how happy I am that you’re here,” he replied, pink dusting my cheeks as he spoke. 

“Wait,” he abruptly said, “you guys should come on the pitch. Like, you and your whole group. You know, so you guys get the full experience.” Lamine winked. Before I could respond, he went over to the security guard and told him something I couldn’t make out, but his words prompted the security guard to open the gate to let us onto the pitch. Everyone in my group were both shocked but also extremely excited by our new view of the warm up. I was as well, but also even more excited to see Lamine again. 

I was one of the last people to make it onto the field where everyone was standing behind a rope. Once I made it to the barrier, Lamine wasted no time and immediately embraced me in a hug. I could tell he resisted the urge to attack the top of my head in kisses during the hug, but he knew many cameras were pointing their lens at us.

“This is the best surprise ever. I’m gonna have to play extra good now that you’re here,” he whispered into the hug.

“Yeah, you better. I can’t have you embarrassing me in front of my friends,” I teased, and all Lamine could do was laugh. 

“I mean, how could I not play well and embarrass you when you look that good in my jersey?” he smugly breathes into my ear. My face was beet red after that comment. We pulled away from the hug, his hand lingering on my arm longer than normal after we pulled away. 

“I wish you had told me earlier! I would’ve gotten you guys upgraded seats. Well, I at least would’ve tried to,” he informed me. 

“Lamine, that would’ve been incredibly kind of you, but we’re a-okay where we’re at now,” I rub his arm in reassurance.

“Ok. Ok. Well, I gotta go before coach kills me. See ya! I’ll text you after the game,” he says as he runs off towards his teammates. I nod in response as his eyes continue to linger on me as long as possible. The second he’s back on the pitch with his teammates, my teacher taps me on the shoulder, a bewildered look etched across her face. 

“I have no idea how or why you know him, but please extend him our heartfelt thanks for giving us this opportunity,” she told me.

“I will, don’t worry,” I reply, giggling. 

————

After the game, and once we were all settled in our hotel rooms, I got a text from Lamine. He told me that if I was free, which he knew I was, to meet him at this outdoor bar that wasn’t too far from my hotel. I agreed and made my way towards the establishment. Once I got there, I saw Lamine leaning against a fence, fully engrossed in whatever he was watching on his phone. 

“There’s my winner! Scoring two goals is so incredible! I’m so proud of you,” I say, raising my arms in the air. My comment catches his attention, as he raises his gaze away from his phone to me. 

“Ahh, stop it,” he brushes off the compliment, walking towards my open arms to embrace me in a hug. After a few seconds, we pull our heads out of the hug so we can embrace in a kiss. The kiss was joyous, passionate, and full of smiles. 

“I’ve been yearning to do that since I saw you in the stands in my jersey. It was the most attractive thing I’ve ever seen,” he says after we briefly break apart, lips only mere inches from each other. 

“You’re so cheesy,” was the only reply I could muster up, as my pink face leaned in for another quick kiss. We eventually begrudgingly tear away from one another, so he can lead me towards the entrance of the bar. We sat at an open two-top in the corner, where we could have as much seclusion and privacy as possible. We both ordered the same drink: one of Lamine’s favorites that he put me onto. 

Our conversation flowed as smoothly as it usually did. The conversation, however, was obviously avoiding the largest elephant in the room: my last day in Spain was today. As the evening drew on, I knew I had to be the one to rip the band-aid off about the forbidden topic.

“I can’t believe it's my last night here,” I comment after a beat of silence.

“Yeah, I try not to think about that,” he says, a hint of sadness lacing itself in his words. I reach my hand across the table to take his hand in mine. He absentmindedly begins to rub my knuckles with the pad of his thumb, more in comfort for himself than for me. 

“I know, ‘cause I try not to, too. But, it's ok! We can still call, text, and literally everything we do now when we’re not together in person. It will be harder, definitely, but we can do it,” I tried hard to reassure Lamine- and myself in the process- but we both knew it would be very hard to keep in touch when he was always six hours ahead of me. 

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll also send you my streaming login info so you can watch my games from home. It’ll give me motivation to score at least two goals each game when I know you’re watching across the ocean,” he jokes, which elicits a laugh from me even in this sad moment. 

“I’ll do anything that’ll help you score ‘cause it makes you happy. Seeing you happy, even if it’ll be through the screen, will make me happy,” I reply, a heartbroken smile stretching across my face. A breathy sigh escapes his lips, and I know he’s about to tell me something heartbreaking. 

“If I’m being completely honest with you right now, these past 10 days with you have been so amazing, I can hardly put into words how fantastic they have been. Being with you brings out a side of me I rarely see in myself anymore. Ever since I started playing fútbol professionally, I have had little time to find simple joy in my everyday life. Your presence alone has brought that spark back. I know this sounds dramatic, but being without your presence every day is gonna be really hard. You’re mere presence brought that joy out of me, and I don’t know if I’ll find it again when you leave,” Lamine spills his heart out to me, the heartbreak being present in every sentence he articulated. I was taken aback by how much of an impact I had on him in just these past 10 days. I couldn’t believe I had that impact on someone at all, let alone someone I considered a stranger a little over a week ago.

A tear came down Lamine’s cheek after his confession. He tried to cover it by ducking his head away from me, but I caught it before he could turn away.

“Oh, Lamine,” I reach up my hand to his tear-stained cheek, using my hand to wipe away his tears as well as to turn his head towards my own, “you are such an amazing person, both inside and out. I’m truly moved by everything you said about me, truly. But… I think you can find that part of yourself all the time, even when I’m not here. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met, and if there’s anyone who can find joy within themselves, it’s you.” Lamine physically relaxed at my words: his shoulders fell, and he released a deep breath he’d been holding in. 

“Hearing that from you makes me feel better. Muchas gracias,” he sighs as he grabs the wrist of the hand still lingering on his cheek. He brings the knuckles of that hand up to his lips, placing delicate kisses along each one of my knuckles. Even in moments like this, he always finds a way for my stomach to erupt in butterflies. 

A little while later, we left the bar and stopped at a vendor on the street for some ice cream. We took our time roaming around the streets eating our ice cream, not wanting the night to end. 

“You know, I forgot to tell you about this,” Lamine broke the comfortable silence as we walked through the streets of Barcelona. His arm free from ice cream was draped over my shoulder as I leaned into his touch. 

“There’s this internship through Spain’s National Men’s Soccer team that is taking place during the World Cup. It’s basically a communications intern where they co-run the social media team with the current intern. I heard about it at bachillerato, and it sounds like something up your alley. Plus, I’ll be on that team for the World Cup, so I can put in a very good word for you,” Lamine told me this information so casually, as if this wasn’t my dream job- or well, in this case, internship. 

“Lamine! Oh my God! Are you kidding? That sounds like a dream!” I exclaimed so dramatically that I almost dropped my ice cream. 

“I can get the link to the application and send it to you. I think they would really like you, too, especially since you speak English and live in the US. Not having to book you an international round-trip flight and knowing the country inside and out would be ideal for them,” Lamine told me. Without warning, I wrapped my arms around his midsection in gratitude and complete joy. He was initially shocked by the sudden change in contact, but then leaned into the embrace. I leaned up and began attacking his face with kisses.

“I didn’t know you would be so excited about this,” Lamine managed to get out in between my pecks. 

“Are you kidding? I get to see you for almost 2 straight months and work for a World Cup team? You should be shocked I’m not more excited,” I say, ecstatically. Lamine just replied with a toothy smile. 

Eventually, Lamine and I made it to the front of my hotel. This is where we had to sadly depart for an unforeseen amount of time. He reached out and grabbed both my hands, looking longingly into my eyes. 

“I guess we have to say goodbye now,” he says, swaying back and forth on his heels in anxious anticipation. 

“I guess so,” I reply. We sit in silence for a moment before he leans down to engulf me in a kiss. This one was different from all the ones we shared before: this one was reverent, like he was memorizing me and my lips. 

“Te amo,” he whispers, our lips inches from each other. The two words were barely audible, but I still managed to hear them. I was bewildered and almost taken aback by those two words. 

“I’m sorry, I know it's so early, and we’re not anything official, but if this is the last time I see you for a long time, I don’t want to regret that I didn’t say it,” he confesses as his forehead rests against my own. My heart swells at the admission.

“Yo también te amo,” I reply, recapturing his lips in another kiss. The words weren’t a binding phrase or a classic case of love-bombing, but more of an expression of deep gratitude for the impact we had on each other’s lives in the past few days. 

Once we pulled away, we said our final goodbyes as I walked into my hotel. I sighed as tears brimmed in my eyes. The thought of tonight being the last time I saw Lamine ever in real life tugged at my brain. I didn’t want it to be, but it was a very real possibility. 

I eventually snuck my way back into my room and got into bed. My roommate was knocked out, not even turning when I walked into the room. I got a text on WhatsApp from Lamine, which was the link to the internship application. I couldn’t contain my smile at the unserious texts we sent back and forth. After a few threads of messages, I set my phone down and went to sleep. 

The next morning and flight home was a blur. All I could think about was Lamine and the memories we made during the trip. During the 9-hour flight, I had time to complete the application for the internship. After I submitted it, I texted Lamine and told him. He was so happy and said he was going to put in “as many good words as possible” for me. After a while, I was so exhausted that I passed out in my crammed seat. The next thing I remember is my friend shaking me awake, telling me were about to land back at home. 

————

In the last week of April, during my lunch break, I got an email from the Spanish internship I applied for. I was sitting at the table with my friends as we all talked, ate, and studied for our upcoming classes. I clicked on the email, thinking it would be another update about how my application was still “being looked at” and how I would get an answer “in the next couple of business days.” This email, though, was not one of those. 

“Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. I got it! I got the internship!” I freaked out, reading the email which informed me I had, in fact, gotten the spot as the social media co-intern for Spain’s World Cup soccer team. 

My friends also began to freak out for me, congratulating me and celebrating alongside me. 

“You need to tell Lamine,” my one friend, who was sitting to my left, told me after the initial uproar wore down. 

“Oh my God, you’re so right,” I replied, immediately pulling out my phone and opening up his contact on WhatsApp so I could video-call him. It was about 6:30 AM there, but I knew he was up since he had lifting at 7. 

He answered almost immediately, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. He was sitting at his kitchen table, eating his breakfast and sipping on a protein shake. 

“Seems like your good words worked!” I exclaimed, turning my screen around to show him the email displayed on my computer. It took him a minute to read and process what I was saying, but once he did, he was beyond ecstatic.

“No fucking way!” he exclaimed, getting up out of his chair as he began to run around his dining room in celebration. I laughed so hard as he quietly cheered since Keyne and his mom were still sleeping above him. 

“I think you’re way more excited than I am,” I told him once he sat back down in his dining room chair. 

“We get to see each other in a month from now! I’m elated,” he said, the smile on his face never faltering.

“Me too, Lamine. This is about to be the best summer ever! Maybe you can even convince your mom to stay in the US after the World Cup so we can hang out even more,” I proposed. 

“Maybe, but all that matters now is that I get to be with your beautiful face in a month,” Lamine said, and my face became a familiar shade of pink. A chorus of “awws” was heard from my friends, and my face grew even hotter.  

“Ok, Lamine, I’ll let you go now so you can lift. Te amo,” I said, blowing him a kiss.

starting off with group a! this group consists of mexico, south korea, czechia, and south africa.

MEXICO:

Raul Jimenez, striker, #9

some very honorable mentions though, are obed vargas, guillermo ochoa back in his prime, and honestly the majority of the team

SOUTH KOREA:

Cho Gue-song, striker, #28

CZECHIA:

David Jurasek, left-back, #14

SOUTH AFRICA:

Ime Okon, defender, #21

also a very honorable mention to ronwen williams and mbekezeli mbokazi

summary: benito needs to learn how to salsa dance for his baile inolvidable music video. he takes private lessons and gets more out of it than just salsa dancing skills.

warnings: sexual tension, fluff

pairing: benito martinez x reader (use of y/n throughout)

word count: 1.6k

this was also cross-posted on my ao3! @bestiemads

💃💃💃

“Thank you so much for coming! I’ll see you all next week!” The crowd of elderly people wished me their best wishes as they exited the room. Teaching salsa was fun, but it got scary when someone’s grandfather turned a little too hard and displaced his hip joint. Poor José, he was truly trying his best. 

I sat down on the floor of my salsa studio to end the day by answering some emails. These emails usually consisted of people canceling their appointments or different moves my clients find on Facebook reels that they think we should try (which are, almost 100% of the time, AI). One of the emails stood out to me today, though, because it wasn’t one of my usual suspects.

Dear Ms. (Y/N),

Hola! This is the management team for singer Bad Bunny. We are reaching out because we have seen your studio online and are very impressed by it. We were wondering if it would be possible to book Benito for a private lesson with you? The reasons for his attendance are top secret, but all he needs to know is the basics and maybe a little more. Thank you so much for your consideration, (Y/N). 

-Bad Bunny’s Management Team

I couldn’t believe what I was reading. Bad Bunny wanted salsa lessons from me? I was the only one who did this in the evenings and weekends as her second job. He could’ve hired quite literally the best salsa teacher in all of Puerto Rico, but he chose me. 

I replied instantaneously, not wanting to mess up this opportunity. My reply was quick and professional, making sure they knew I was delighted to take up this opportunity. Over the rest of the night, the management team and I exchanged emails about the upcoming sessions. I informed them he wouldn’t interfere with my regular sessions and gave them the times I was available. We settled on every Tuesday and Thursday from 7-8:30. I usually ended my classes at 7, but staying an extra hour and a half for the amount they were paying me was well worth it. 

The first Tuesday rolled around, and I had no idea what to expect. 

“Bye, Tommy!” I shouted to my client as he and his wife left the class. I continued to clean up the room as I usually do between sessions. This cleanup took much longer than I expected, so I didn’t even hear the door open and shut as a new person entered the room. 

“¿Hola?” The unfamiliar voice made me whip my head around in horror. Standing awkwardly in the doorway was Bad Bunny, otherwise known as Benito. His toes tapped in awkward restlessness as he examined the room.

“¡Jesús Cristo! You scared me,” I said, almost dropping the resistance bands in my arms. 

“¡Lo siento mucho! No quería asustarte,” the man walked towards me, profusely apologizing for his unexpected entrance. 

“No, you’re fine. Wasn’t expecting you to show up,” I look down at my watch- 7 o’clock on the dot- “exactly on time. Dios mío… this is totally my fault.” I sighed in defeat as I shoved the bands into the bin on the ground. I stood up and straightened myself out. I turned so my body faced the Grammy-award-winning artist. His curly hair is what caught my eye first, then his face. His natural beauty made my cheeks flare up, but I quickly snapped myself back into reality. He was my client, not a potential guy I was bringing home later. 

“Benito,” he stuck out his hand, inviting me to shake it as an introduction. 

“I know. I’m (Y/N),” I accepted his handshake. A contagious smile spread across his face as our hands shook. 

“So, have you ever salsa danced before?” I questioned, setting up the area. 

“A little. Mi mamá me enseñó algo cuando era niño. Eso es todo,” he explained. 

“Alright, show me what you got,” I said, standing a few feet in front of him. My arms folded across my chest.

“¿Eh?”

“Muéstrame lo que sabes,” I said, turning on a traditional salsa song. Benito tried his best to keep up with the beat, but failed pretty badly.

“Wow,” I paused the song, “that was pretty…”

“Bad. I know. I could tell by your facial expressions,” Benito finished my sentence for me. 

“Oh my… I’m so sorry. It wasn’t awful; it just needed a lot of tweaks, that’s all,” I laughed, hoping Benito wouldn’t take my RBF too seriously. Benito joined in on the joke, thankfully. If I ruined this within the first five minutes, I would never recover.

Our sessions continued twice a week, and they truly became what I look forward to every week. Teaching Benito was so much fun; it didn’t feel like I was working half the time. It also didn’t help that Benito was incredibly charming, which in turn led me to develop a huge crush on him. I mean, how could you not? You’re dancing very intimately with Bad Bunny.

“Stop!” Benito stopped his step midway through. 

“¿Te equivocas otra vez?” he disappointingly asked, and I nodded. I secretly loved it when he messed up, because I got to get really close to him. It seemed like recently, especially, he had been messing up a lot. I didn’t mind, though. 

I walked behind the man, his back pressed against my chest. I’ve been this close to him countless times, but every time it manages to make my breath hitch in my throat. I can smell his expensive cologne, which he spritzed on himself in the morning. This time, I noticed his breathing. It’s faster than normal. Not in a way where I would be concerned he’s about to go into cardiac arrest, but at a nervous pace. Was this proximity also giving him thoughts unrelated to salsa dancing? 

We moved to the groove, my guidance helping him master the moves. Even as he mastered every step, I didn’t want to pull away. My head rested on the side of his right bicep so I could see his movements. His biceps flexed at every arm motion, making my stomach do backflips. Every time my hand brushes his thigh to adjust it, his breath hitches in his throat. 

I begin pulling myself away from Benito until I feel his hand grip my wrist. I turn to face him, his body facing mine now. 

“Vamos a bailar. Juntos,” he says, reaching out his free hand to take mine. 

I click play on the song on my phone, which was sitting in my back pocket. 

“¿El baile completo?” I questioned.

“Lo completo.” Our bodies moved to the rhythm. Benito had improved so much over the past few weeks, and I was so happy to see this improvement. Selfishly, though, I was disappointed to see him leave the class in the near future.

“You’ve improved so much since you first started,” I commented.

“All thanks to you,” he said, twirling me. 

“You must be practicing at home,” I accused playfully. 

“Tal vez…” he confessed as if it were a sin. 

“¡Lo sabía! I’m so proud,” I gushed as his cheeks turned red. The dance turned into a comfortable silence, as we gazed into each other’s eyes. The professionalism between us had faded long ago, but now it felt truly nonexistent. 

Benito spun me around halfway, making my back fall into his chest. We swayed back and forth with both our arms wrapped around my chest. His chin was resting in the crook of my neck as we swayed. The tension between us was so thick you couldn’t even slice it with a knife. I averted my eyes from the floor up to look up at him. Our faces were inches from one another; our eyes looking between each other’s eyes and their lips. 

Then, with no room for hesitation, we leaned in and kissed. Any ounce of professionalism that was once there was now completely eradicated. The song, the dance, everything was forgotten the moment our lips touched. I couldn't care less, though. I had fallen so hard for Benito that this kiss was worth losing this job over.

He spun me out of the position so we were facing one another. My outstretched arms were immediately pulled into him as we embraced in another kiss. My hands found the back of his head while his found my lower back. We pulled away and had our foreheads rest on each other’s.

“Eso fue asombroso,” he sighs, pressing another quick kiss to my lips.

“You don’t even know how often I’ve thought about this,” I confessed. 

“Me too.” The same, contagious smile spread across his lips, with my own following suit. 

After our dance, he gathered up his things at the end of the night as I cleaned up the studio. 

“You know,” he started, “I’m learning all of this salsa for a music video I’m filming.”

I gasped. “I thought that information was top secret.”

“It is,” he laughed, “but I thought you should know why you’re teaching me these moves.”

“So you’re not just here for me and my gorgeous face,” I jokingly replied. He approaches me, grasping my face in his hands. He places a soft kiss on my lips.

“Well, that’s definitely a big reason, too. But the main reason why I’m telling you this is that I wanted to ask you to be in the video. You could critique me during the production, so I don’t mess up the final product. Plus, I just want you there, too.” 

“Benito, I would love to be in your top secret music video,” I gave him another quick kiss on the lips. “Now, go. I gotta wake up early tomorrow for work.” I was at the doorway, practically shoving him out. 

summary: bob’s bathroom on his floor stops working, so you let him use yours while his gets fixed

warnings: insinuating sexual thoughts, fluff

pairing: bob reynolds x reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 3.5k

this was cross-posted on my ao3!! @bestiemads

⚡️⚡️⚡️

“Yep, my assumptions were correct,” Walker puts down the flashlight and screwdriver he had been using to inspect the shower’s drainage pipe. The rest of the Thunderbolts and I had been hovering around John in the bathroom like a swarm of flies to see what was up with Bob’s bathroom. If you couldn’t tell, life in the tower was truly eventful.

“What’s wrong?” The impatient tone in Bucky’s voice was obvious as he stood at the back of the group.

“There’s something wrong with the pipes in the sink, making it not run correctly. I can almost guarantee it’s the same in the toilet and shower, too. I’m not a plumber, obviously, so I can’t diagnose anything. But, if I had to guess, I think it’s an overall pipe problem on this floor.” Walker got up from the bathroom, dusting off the grime that clung to his pants from the restroom floor. 

“So, I can’t use anything in this bathroom at all?” Bob hesitantly asked, hoping for a much better answer than the one he was about to get.

“No, Reynolds. You’re gonna have to share a bathroom with a willing teammate, and that willing teammate is definitely not me!” Walker dramatically flung his arms in the air, making it known he wouldn’t share his bathroom with the Sentry. Bob looked around the rest of the team, a hopeful glint in his eyes that at least someone would share the bathroom with him.

Bucky and Alexei averted their eyes towards the ground. Yelena looked at a spot on the wall that- all of a sudden- seemed to catch her attention. He didn’t even have to look at Ava, because he knew her answer would be a strict “no.” 

“You can share with me, Bob,” I piped up. “My bathroom is one of the few with a double sink, and you’re only a floor below me. It wouldn’t be a big deal.”

“You sure?” Bob questioned, his overthinking nature constantly taking over him.

“Yes, of course. It’s just a toilet, sink, and shower. It’s not a big deal at all,” I made sure I made my point clear, so he wouldn’t feel as guilty as I know he feels now.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

⚡️⚡️⚡️

I splash cold water onto my face, scrubbing the face wash off my face. I was in my bathroom, getting ready for bed. The faint hum of the bathroom fan rang above me as I continued my nightly routine. Then, three light knocks on my door interrupted the pattern. These knocks weren’t unexpected, though; they were Bob.

I opened the door to find Bob standing hesitantly at its frame, as if he were intruding. His shoulders hung low as his arms wrapped around the green travel caddy, in which he brought his toiletries.

“I’ve been expecting you,” I joked, gesturing into my bedroom. “The bathroom’s that door to your right with the light on.” I shut the bedroom door and followed him into my bathroom.

“You can put your stuff on the sink furthest from the door. I usually use the left one, so the right one can be yours for however long!” Bob put his bag down on the edge of the sink, trying to take up as little space as possible.

“I’ll wait till you’re done getting ready before I start,” Bob said, heading into my adjacent bedroom to sit on the corner of my bed.

“You sure, Bob? There are two sinks for a reason, you know.” I didn’t care at all if Bob was in there while I got ready. Knowing Bob’s shy nature and how awkward he currently felt, though, I didn’t want to push it. When he makes up his mind, it’s pretty hard to get him to change it, especially in social situations like this. 

“Yeah, I am.” I finished getting ready in only a handful of minutes, making small talk with Bob as I did so.

“Alright, I’m done.” My voice was muffled as I patted my face dry for the final time with a towel. Bob and I switched positions so he could do his thing in the restroom. He didn’t shower that night out of his own awkwardness. He did his skincare and brushed his teeth, that’s all. He definitely rushed the routine.

Once he finished, he met me in my bedroom. I was sitting in my bed, scrolling aimlessly on my phone. My head perked up when I saw him, caddy in hand, heading towards my door.

“Goodnight. See you in the morning,” Bob said, waving his hand timidly as he began to exit my room.

“See you in the morning!” My reply was quick as he softly shut the door behind him.

⚡️⚡️⚡️

Bob came to my bathroom many more times after that, and he became more comfortable with each visit. His routine became longer and more precise because he was becoming more comfortable with his sheer presence in my space. His twice-a-day visits became something I looked forward to. Being able to talk with him- just him- with no interruptions, was something I cherished. 

It also helped that I had begun to develop this intense crush on Bob. I had always thought he was cute, no doubt. I thought he was attractive ever since I first saw him stumble out of that container in the vault. His floppy brown curls that matched his equally floppy smile made my heart burst. His unfaltering gentleness in every ounce of his being added to his charm as well. He always asked for permission, even when he didn’t need it. All of his other loving traits branched from his soul of gentleness, which is something that made me fall for him even harder.

That sleeper build he hid under baggy clothes was a positive, too. 

I knew he was ripped after Valentina’s guards shot off half of his shirt. The peak of the lower half of his abdomen made my breath hitch in my chest. I began to think some unwanted thoughts about a guy I had just met. Those thoughts were quickly erased when his body shot into the sky. 

Those undesired thoughts didn’t come back until a few days ago.

I was lying in my bed, watching 13 Going on 30 on my TV. I had never seen the movie, but John raved about it. He said his ex-wife and him watched it while they were dating, and it's still one of his favorites. I told him I had never watched it, which seemed to Walker like the end of the world.

“That movie’s a cinematic masterpiece. You need to watch it.”

So, I decided to watch it tonight. So far, I was genuinely enjoying the movie. The love story was adorable, and the main character, Jenna, was easily lovable. 

The leading man and love interest, Matt, looked quite familiar, though. 

“Bob, don’t you think the guy in this movie looks like Bruce Banner?” Bob had been in the bathroom with the door shut as he took a shower. The water wasn’t running anymore, so I assumed he was done. 

“Who?” Bob replied. He had opened the bathroom door, but I didn’t notice him exit the steamy restroom. My eyes were glued to the TV, entranced by the movie on the screen.

“Bruce Banner. The Hulk. Doesn’t he look like him?” I gesture my right hand towards the screen, where the Bruce-look-alike danced to the song “Thriller” with Jenna. As I said this, my eyes averted towards Bob, who I now realized finally emerged from the bathroom. Once my eyes landed on the Sentry, though, my breath caught in my throat. 

Bob was fresh out of the shower with only a towel wrapped low around his waist. His muscular, wet-skinned glistened in the TV screen’s light. His hands gripped his hips, right around his built abdomen. His brown curls now hung on his head heavy due to the weight of the water and the minimal gel product he raked through it. He smelled good, too- like insanely good. It was so uniquely Bob, making this whole ordeal even more attractive. I knew Bob was built, but seeing his full form right now brought out some thoughts inside me I thought flew away when the Sentry did outside the vault.

“Oh my God, he does. How’d you figure that out?” I barely registered that Bob was talking to me. Luckily, he was too focused on the screen to catch me staring at him. I snapped out of it, my cheeks growing pink in embarrassment. 

“Hmm?” I asked, taking an almost obnoxious gulp of my own saliva. Bob looked over at me, that dopey smile stretching across his face as if his pure being wasn’t sending me into a spiral at that exact moment. 

“How’d you figure out that he looked like the Hulk?” he asked, in the sweetest voice that almost made me melt into my bed.

“Oh, uh, j-just luck, I guess.” The response truly made no sense, or maybe it did; I don’t know. All that was on my mind now were thoughts that would send a priest into a heart attack. 

Bob laughed- his adorable laugh- and walked back into the bathroom. He said something along the lines of “I’m gonna finish up” before shutting the door behind him again. 

I took a deep sigh, flopping my back onto the bed. I had completely embarrassed myself, which hopefully Bob didn’t catch on to. In that moment, I realized I was truly knee-deep in my infatuation with Bob, and I wasn’t getting out anytime soon. 

Ever since that moment, I was never truly normal around Bob. Once I accepted my liking for him, its like I turned into a lovesick teenager again. The only difference this time was that I was not a teenager. I think team members began to pick up on this, especially Yelena. She kept teasing me about it, even when I told her I didn’t have feelings for him. Finally, after constant nagging, I finally told her. She insisted that he felt the same way towards me, but I didn’t believe her.

“Oh. My. God. The lovey-dovey eyes he gives you across the table at breakfast are cartoon-like. I’m surprised his irises don’t turn into two obnoxiously sized red hearts when he does it.” Yelena seemed annoyed at my obliviousness, but truly, at dinner, I tried to avoid eye contact with him. If I did, I truly don’t know what my body would do in the moment (and I didn’t want to know).

“He does not!” I reply, rolling my eyes at the assassin. We were sitting on the floor of the training room, catching our breath after our training session. 

“Oh, but he does. And he sits next to you every movie night. And he always makes you your complicated coffee order in the morning, without you having to ask. And he’s always the first one to perk up when you ask if anyone wants to come run errands with you around town. Need I say more, ‘cause I can keep going.” 

“I think you made your point.” Yelena’s list made you think, really think. He did do all that for you, but was that out of Bob's kindness or attraction?

“I’m just saying, if you shot your shot, I don’t think you’d miss.” Yelena shrugged her shoulders, extending them just so to nudge me with her elbow. 

“You’re spending too much time on your phone,” I laugh, playfully throwing the Gatorade water bottle I had been cradling in my hands at her outstretched legs. 

“I’m connecting with the youth!” Yelena also laughs, copying my actions of throwing her Gatorade water bottle towards me. 

⚡️⚡️⚡️

The sun peered through the blinds, hitting me right in the face. The bright rays hitting my face so fresh out of sleep made my face contort in discomfort. I stretched my arms out wide, knowing I had to get the day started. I got into the bathroom, knowing it was a hair-washing day.

I walked into my bathroom, stripped off my pajamas, and entered the shower. The steam of the hot water enveloped me, making me sigh in relief. As I enjoyed my time in the shower, though, I didn’t hear Bob’s signature three knocks on my door. But I did hear his voice calling through my bedroom, looking for me. 

“I’m in the bathroom, showering!” I called back.

“Ok! I’ll wait for you to finish up,” he replied. Another unwelcome thought popped into my head that I immediately ushered away. 

I finished up my shower in a timely manner, wanting to talk to Bob (and see him) as fast as possible. I still had to do my hair routine, but I could do it while Bob was in here. I wrapped my robe around my body, then called for Bob to come in. 

Bob opened the door, steam rolling out the top door towards my cooler bedroom. Bob had seen me in a robe many times before, and every time, a tinge of pink tinted his face when he saw me in it. I loved it. 

“Sorry, I gotta finish up my hair routine,” I say, squirting a dollop of product into my hands. I flipped my hair down towards the ground and began raking the product into my hair, imagining how much easier life would be if I had straight hair. 

“It’s alright, I get it,” he replies, gesturing to his own mess of curls on the top of his head. We continue to get ready in comfortable silence, like we did some mornings. Some mornings, we were as quiet as mice; the only sound heard was the occasional “excuse me” whispered from one of us. Other mornings were full of endless chatter. Those were my favorites. 

“You know,” Bob broke the silence, usually a task set to me, “my bathroom’s gonna be fixed here really soon. Like this week type of soon.” My heart dropped at his words. In this moment, I realized how much I had really been enjoying his company. Mornings and evenings were going to be dull without his presence in my room. 

“Oh. Well, that’s great!” I said, flipping my hair back upwards, squirting another product into my hands. There was an awkward silence for a moment, a type of silence that never enveloped the two of us.

“But, if I’m gonna be honest,” I hesitantly said, scrunching the product into my damp curls, “I’m gonna miss this. You and I, getting ready in the morning. Just the two of us.” I felt my face become pink at the confession, hoping it would land well with the Sentry.

“I’m gonna miss this, too. I’ve really, really liked getting to know you better.” The sweetness of his reply made my heart swell. This was his usual, sweet nature, and, yet, I knew he meant every word of it. 

“Me too. Like how you can only eat pickles when they're cut horizontally,” I reply, trying my best the entire sentence to suppress the laugh threatening to escape my lips. 

“And that’s the only way to eat them!” he exclaimed, which opened the door for that laugh to escape my lips. 

“Ok, if you want to play that game,” Bob replied in a sassy tone, “I really loved learning how when you went to California with your family, you accidentally brought Walker’s way too big Crocs and had to wear them all around South Beach for a week.” Your mouth dropped in betrayal, a laugh coming from your throat again. 

“Oh, you loved learning that?” I asked, playfully.

“Yes, I did, because I love you!” The words came out of the man’s lips naturally, but like a confession he didn’t mean to confess. The bathroom was now silent, tension hanging in the air so thick a knife couldn’t even cut it. 

“Do you mean that?” I asked, looking at Bob. His head was turned away from me, but I could tell his face was beet red. My question made him turn his head to face me. His eyes were unsure, not knowing if his accidental love confession was going to ruin our friendship or not. 

“I- I mean, yeah. I do. I do love yo-” I cut off what I knew was going to be a long Bob ramble (which, granted, I love but not in this moment), by grabbing his face and placing a kiss onto them. He was at first shocked by the unexpected kiss, but he eventually leaned into it. His hands found their home on my own cheeks as the kiss continued to deepen. I pulled away from the Sentry, feeling him try to pull me back into the kiss when I did so.

“I love you too, Bob. I just didn’t know how to tell you,” I pulled him back for another kiss. He was more passionate with this one, knowing his feelings were shared by me. We both mutually pulled away again, but were still close to one another.

“Glad you took the hard part into your own hands,” I giggled as Bob’s face took a deep shade of red. It was so easy to make him nervous. 

“Being upfront isn’t usually my forte, but if it leads to results like this,” he pulls me flush against his body, “I think I’m going to have to do it more often.” He places a quick peck upon my lips that we both smile into.  

⚡️⚡️⚡️

“Hey, Bob!” Yelena calls from across the hallway. Bob was heading towards my bedroom again, trying to be as sneaky as possible, but obviously not sneaky enough.

“Y- yeah?” Bob hesitantly replies, scared that Yelena was going to catch him in the act of sneaking into his secret girlfriend’s room. 

“That doesn’t seem like your bedroom your heading towards. You’re usually in bed by this time,” Yelena accuses, trying to get Bob to confess something (which is something generally not that hard to do).

“Oh, well, I- I know. I was getting ready for bed and then realized I had left my… toothpaste in her bathroom from when we shared it.” He was lying through his teeth, and it was painfully obvious. 

“So how have you been brushing your teeth for the past three weeks then?” Yelena asked, crossing her arms in a mom-like fashion.

“With soap?” Bob hesitantly said, slightly shrugging as he did so.

“Yuck. Ok, Reynolds, go get your toothpaste. Good night,” Yelena left the hallway, heading towards her own room. Bob approached my door, knocking his signature three knocks on my door. I open it, immediately pulling him into my room. We both sit down on my bed against my headboard, my arms immediately wrapping around his bigger torso.

“Heard you talking to ‘Lena out in the hallway,” I raked my hands through his hair, massaging his scalp. “What did she want?” 

“She wanted to know why I was coming over here. I told her that I left my toothpaste in here from when we shared the bathroom.” I laughed, placing a kiss on his right cheek. 

“She totally knew you were lying. But, whatever, she already knows about my little crush on you anyways,” I said, moving myself so that I’m now sitting on his lap. Bob’s face turns a hint of pink as he places his hands on my face. He was obviously confused but chose not to question me at this time.

“All that matters now is that you’re here. With me,” I say, pulling him into a kiss. The kiss immediately turns deep as my hands tangle in his hair and his finds its place on my waist. We didn’t even hear the many knocks on my bedroom door that eventually turned into the door being opened by Bucky Barnes.

“I knew it!” Bob and I immediately broke apart, seeing the entire New Avengers team standing out my doorway. Alexei was the culprit of the cheering, sticking out his hands towards John and Ava.

“You two owe me 20 bucks. Each! Oh, you two are also so cute, by the way,” Alexei followed Ava and Walker to the kitchen, where they gave him his total of 40 dollars. 

“Sorry to interrupt. We’ll let the two of you get back to… whatever the two of you were doing,” Bucky said. Yelena and Bucky were left at the door, a smug smirk engulfing Yelena’s face. 

“Traitor,” I muttered, which Yelena heard. Her smug look grew even more smug at the comment.

“Bye-bye, lovebirds,” she said, closing the door behind him and the Winter Soldier. Bob’s embarrassed face fell into my chest, eyes shutting due to the awkward interaction.