LAZY DAYS WITH CODY WERE SOMETHING YOU LOOKED FORWARD TO, in fact, your week revolved around them. Your arms wrapped around his neck and legs around his waist as he softly mumbled half-asleep nothings into your shoulder in dutch; waking him up with gentle kisses to his forehead and a soothing hand running through his hair. “Morning, mijn schat,” he whispered, tickling you with delicate kisses that made you giggle and squirm away from his hold on you, not that it was much of an effort to move away from him. His eyes fluttered open, blinking a few times before finally settling on your face, grinning at you. “Not sure if it’s the morning anymore, baby,” you quietly confessed, laughing as he huffed, both of you looking at each other in peaceful silence before you tugged him in by the cross around his neck, kissing him on the lips.

He leaned back onto his pillow, arms behind his head. “Feel like the luckiest man on earth,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes, and yet you believed him. You believed any word that came out of his mouth. You shifted over closer to him, almost jumping onto his naked chest making him wince, and kissing his nose and forehead repeatedly until he laughed and tilted his head away from you trying to escape. “You can’t go that easily!” you yelled amidst bounds of laughter emitting from the pair of you, you tried pulling his jaw back to face you and then you were hit in the face by a flying pillow. 

Your eyes widened as you watched another come flying towards you, trying to roll to the side and get your own pillow to attack him with in retaliation, however he was too fast, and managed to skim the side of your cheek. You tried dodging him again, but it was no use, his football training had paid off and now you were unable to beat him in pillow fights, oh the tragedy of a married life! 

Then you came up with an idea – you came up with it after playing dead when you were hit for the fifth time by Cody’s pillow – to pull him in by the scruff of his neck, puckering your lips as a gesture for him to kiss you, a truce. He leaned in, dropping the pillow which landed on the floor, and then you reached over and grabbed your pillow, hitting him over the back of the head with it. You smirked up at him coyly, his arms either side of you holding himself up. “Really?” he asked. You nodded, grinning at him, chuffed with yourself. “Never knew I married a trickster,” you just rolled your eyes. “Should have read the fine print, Mr. Gakpo.” He hummed at you, huffing humorously. “Maybe I should have, Mrs. Gakpo, I don’t know what else my wife is hiding,” you tilted your head at him teasingly, and then he rolled you both over, almost falling off of the bed and onto the floor.

“Cody!” you gripped onto him tightly as he laughed at your reaction, scooping you back up onto the bed before finally standing up himself. “Where’re you going?” you questioned. “Off to make some breakfast,” he pointed behind him before continuing. “You want some?” you nodded at him, getting up before he lightly pushed you back down onto the bed, your legs hanging over the side. “You can have it in bed,” he smiled, you furrowed your brows. “That’s not fair, let me treat you!” he shook his head, picking up a shirt left discarded on your bedroom floor. “You treating me is letting me treat you, mijn liefde,” you rolled your eyes at his cheesiness but let him walk out your bedroom door anyway, eyes trailing down his back as you watched him.

You stretched around in the bed, suddenly hyper aware of the time with the lack of your husband’s presence, and you checked your phone with a calm sigh. You both had the day off so there wasn’t even a need to listen to the time, just that spent with each other, you treasured the rare occasions like this. You spent most of your time with him anyway, to say you were both clingy was an understatement. You came to his trainings, all of his matches of course, interviews, award shows, you name it.

You heard the click of the stove downstairs and immediately started trying to smell whatever it was he was making, sitting up and straightening your clothes out. You probably looked like a mess and yet you felt on top of the world. You wet your lips before stalking after your husband, trying best to avoid the creaks on the stairs on your tiptoes and walking behind him at his position in the kitchen and slinking your arms around his chest, leaning up to place kisses on his shoulder, or anything close.

He laughed and tilted his head around at you, hand still on a frying pan making what smelt like pancakes. “Missed you,” you murmured into his skin, stepping back from your tiptoes, arms still tied around him. “Only been gone a minute, I’m still here. What happened to breakfast in bed?” he asked curiously, wanting to spoil you and yet here you were attached at the hip, wanting to help him in any way you could. You moved beside him, facing the stove, Cody no longer feeling the warmth of your arms around him. “I know baby, ‘m sorry. Ik mis je,” you repeated your words in Dutch. He grinned at you, a wide grin that spanned across his face and from ear to ear. “You’re learning dutch?” he questioned, gleaming eyes flickering between you and the pan in front of him. “Hard not to when I have a dutch husband,” he rolled his eyes and pushed you back gently, surprised at you learning his native language. 

“What you cooking?” you hummed. “Pancakes. You wanna flip them?” you bit your lip, frowning. “It will probably end up on the ceiling or the floor, Cody. Are you sure?” he nodded, his eyes trained on the pan as he handed it to you, twisting his body and carefully allowing you to adjust your grip on the handle. You moved it up and down gently, the batter not even moving. Cody chuckled. “I’ll help you,” he said, moving his hand over the top of yours and helping you move it. The batter flew into the air and you shrieked as it started falling back down, Cody moving you both over to a different segment of the kitchen to catch it as it fell. You facepalmed and in fits of hysteria, said, “I’m never doing that again, I’ll leave the pancake making to you chef.” 

He smiled and waved you off as you walked out of the kitchen and back to your joint bedroom, a few minutes later being welcomed in by your husband with two trays balanced on either hand. You covered your mouth with your hand to stop laughing and possibly distracting him. “Did you drop anything?” you chuckled, he just turned his head away, smiling and then placing the trays on either respective bedside tables; then pointed at his chest. “Spilt some nutella over me, don’t even know how,” you shrieked at him, moving closer to inspect it and wiping it off with your finger. “Good thing I didn’t wear my shirt, that would’ve been stained,” you nodded, then quipped back, “I’m definitely not complaining.” He rolled his eyes, placing the tray on his lap.

“I got us both chocolate pancakes, didn’t know if you were in a lemon ‘n’ sugar mood,” you nodded at him, looking down at your breakfast. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought he was a professional chef, not a footballer. In front of you was a wrapped pancake, melted nutella chocolate seeping out of it as well as sugar sprinkled over it, a few berries in a small pot on the side of it, and a tall glass of milk that had somehow balanced as Cody brought it up from the kitchen and all around the house on his way to you.

“Ik hou van–” he turned to look at you, half his pancake already in his mouth and lips covered in chocolate as he messily ate. “Ik hou van jou?” you nodded, pointing at him. “That’s it, what does it mean again?” he grinned and you vice versa, smirking coyly at him, just wanting to hear him say it. “I love you,” you nodded cockily, turning back to your pancakes before repeating it back to him, “Ik hou van jou.”

He paused for a second, just looking at you with awe in his eyes, you didn’t see. Too busy ensuring the chocolate didn’t drip down onto the duvet, humming in pleasure occasionally. “This is so good!”

If you were looking at him, you would have seen the way he looked at you, his mouth slightly agape as if shocked by your existence, eyes sparkling at the sight of you; like you were the sun and the moon and all he ever wanted in life. If you were looking at him, you would have seen the way he celebrated after winning the final, kissing his cross and pointing to the sky, but then raising his hand to his lips and kissing his wedding ring, trying to scour the area for you in the crowd; eyes scrunched up, smiling with his eyes, and unable to stop the way his face lifted at the sight of you. 

He returned to eating his own pancake, mimicking you in an attempt to also not let the duvet be stained with chocolate. You had already moved onto your last fruit in the small bowl, a raspberry, your favourite and you chucked it into your mouth, cheeks puffing out and wetting your lips. You looked over at Cody, just finishing up with his pancake, chocolate covering his mouth and you laughed, pointing at your lips as a gesture for him to clear it off with a tissue or something. He just rolled his eyes and leaned in for a kiss, both of your chocolate covered lips making the other’s so much more worse and yet you did so, laughing and grinning at him before wetting your lips and going to wipe the remainder of chocolate off with a tissue conveniently on your bedside table.

“Are you wiping my kiss off?” he accused, mouth wide open in fake horror, you scoffed, leaning in towards him again under the guise of kissing him again, but wiped his lips with the tissue instead. He turned away from you as if offended before returning with his hands around the back of your head, trying to pull you towards him. You wiped your own lips of chocolate quickly, he scoffed, pulling you in. “You’re gonna have to kiss me again now, seeing as you wiped it off.” You grinned and obliged, peppering his face with kisses. “Let me feed you,” you giggled, then picked up a blueberry from his tray, moving it towards his mouth which he opened courteously, tongue stuck out flat. You dropped it and he drew it back into his mouth, chewing on it quickly with all his attention remaining on you. You stuck your tongue out back at him, watching as he copied your actions again. 

“That’d be a good celebration, y’know. Next time you score a goal you need to stick your tongue out and dedicate it to me,” he glared at you, finishing off his meal and placing the tray on his bedside table, then jabbed a finger at you. “I always dedicate my goals to you,” you shrugged, picking up your glass and placing it to your lips, swallowing the milk in several gulps; at which point one of your front hairs swayed into your face, threatening to stick itself into your glass. Cody swiftly noticed and tucked your hair behind your ear, planting a kiss to your cheek as you lowered the glass and set it back on the bedside table. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, continuing when a coy smile popped up on your face. 

“Even when you are a domkop sometimes,” you twisted your face up, he looked at you as if in half-shock, but half-impressed. “Do you know what that means?” he interrogated, eyes narrowing. You shook your head. “Just assumed it was something mean, it doesn’t sound very affectionate,” he laughed as you repeated the word back to him. “It means you’re so smart,” he lied, for which you raised your eyebrows at him. “Yeah sure,” you nodded, then scoffed. “You’re too good at english that I can’t even bully you back,” he gave a half-attempted chortle, downing his own drink and then gesturing for you to hand your tray over to him. 

“No wonder you’re so tall, it’s all that milk you’ve been drinking,” he rolled his eyes, waving you off. “Shut up,” he said, you handed your tray to him carefully, for which he then stacked one on top of the other and left the room in silence, going back down the kitchen to place both trays by the kitchen sink for later. “What do you think our kids would be like?” you asked him when he came back. He looked at the ceiling in thought before facing you again, both of your heads resting on pillows, bodies turned to the other’s. “With my height?” he asked. “Or with languages?” he asked, again. You bit your lip, shrugging. “Everything.”

“I hope they have your eyes,” he laughed, you smiled, imagining it. “What would you wanna call them?” Cody paused momentarily, humming to himself in thought. “Niek if it’s a boy, Florens if it’s a girl,” you grinned. “You’ve thought about this?” he cocked his head at you, frowning. “Why wouldn’t I think about my future children with my beautiful wife?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Come here you domkop,” you leaned in for the kiss, smiling into it.

୨୧ @𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐞. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 ୨୧