Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Beth Mead was halfway through writing an interview transcript when she heard the front door shut — not slammed, but firm, with just enough force to say, Today was a lot.

From the hallway came the sound of keys hitting the ceramic dish she specifically bought to stop Viv from leaving them in the fridge. (Yes, the fridge. It happened. Twice.)

“That you, love?” Beth called, not looking up from her laptop.

“No, it’s your backup striker,” Viv’s voice replied, thick with sarcasm and Dutch frustration.

Beth grinned and called back, “Well tell her to take her muddy boots off this time.”

There was a pause. Then the soft thud of boots being kicked off, followed by Viv muttering something in Dutch that probably wasn’t very polite.

Beth chuckled to herself and kept typing.

Viv eventually appeared in the doorway to their shared living room, her ponytail loose and cheeks flushed. She looked tired in the way only athletes did — not just physically, but like someone who’d had to smile through three team meetings and pretend her quads weren’t killing her.

Beth looked up. “Hi.”

Viv’s shoulders dropped just slightly. “Hi.”

Beth closed the laptop. “Bad session?”

Viv flopped down on the other end of the couch. “Not bad. Just… long. Everyone’s suddenly discovered how to yell instructions at me. The analysts. The coach. The under-18 keeper who shouldn’t even be on our pitch.”

Beth smiled sympathetically. “Well, you are one of the best players in the world. Comes with the territory.”

Viv groaned. “I just wanted to play football. Not listen to seventeen opinions on my positioning.”

“You want sympathy or sarcasm?”

Viv glanced sideways. “Bit of both.”

Beth nodded. “You’re a tactical genius unfairly misunderstood by children.”

Viv pointed at her. “Exactly.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Viv pulled off her socks and tossed them in the general direction of the laundry basket. Beth didn’t even look.

“You missed,” she said.

“I’m saving energy,” Viv replied, lying back and propping her feet on Beth’s legs. “Conserving for the weekend.”

“Right, because using the laundry basket is a high-intensity drill now.”

Viv poked her. “Be nice.”

Beth adjusted the blanket over her lap. “You hungry?”

Viv closed her eyes. “Always.”

Beth stood and stretched. “I’ll put on pasta.”

Viv opened one eye. “You cooking voluntarily? Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?”

“I’m being supportive.”

“You’re being suspicious.”

Beth smirked and walked into the kitchen.

From the couch, Viv called out, “Don’t forget the salt this time!”

Beth shouted back, “It was one time, and I was distracted by you walking around in that stupid training top with the sleeves rolled up!”

Viv laughed. “You’re weak.”

Beth peeked around the corner. “Weak, but considerate enough to cook.”

“Fine. Consider me seduced.”

Beth made kissy noises and disappeared again.

⸻

Twenty minutes later, they were sat at the table with two plates of simple pasta, a half-drunk bottle of wine, and the candle Beth insisted made the place look “less like two flatmates surviving on protein bars and vibes.”

Viv twirled her fork in her bowl. “You know, we really are like an old married couple.”

Beth raised an eyebrow. “Is it the pasta every Tuesday or the way you leave your shoes in the middle of the hallway like it’s a trap?”

Viv smirked. “It’s the arguing over laundry and the fact that I know exactly how many times you’ll reheat your tea before giving up.”

“Three,” Beth said proudly.

“Four, if you’re writing an article about someone you don’t like.”

Beth nodded. “Because passive aggression needs hydration.”

Viv leaned back in her chair. “It’s weird, isn’t it? How easy this feels. Still. After four years.”

Beth didn’t reply straight away. She just watched Viv — the messy ponytail, the comfortable jumper, the slight redness still in her cheeks from training.

“It is easy,” Beth said quietly. “Even when we’re being grumpy.”

“Even when I forget your birthday?” Viv teased.

“You never forgot my birthday. You pretended to forget it for two days and then flew us to Venice.”

Viv gave her a smug look. “You cried.”

“You booked the hotel under ‘Mrs. and Mrs. Mead.’ I was emotional.”

Viv shrugged. “Manifesting.”

Beth took a sip of wine, eyes still on her. “You ever think about actually doing it?”

Viv paused. “What, the name change or the wedding bit?”

Beth smirked. “The whole lot.”

Viv looked down at her plate. “I think about it more than I let on.”

Beth’s voice softened. “Same.”

Viv reached across the table and took her hand, thumb brushing her knuckles. “We’re already basically married.”

Beth squeezed her fingers. “True. Only without the paperwork. And the tax benefits.”

Viv smiled. “That can be arranged.”

Beth tilted her head. “Are you proposing over under-salted pasta?”

Viv gasped. “It’s not under-salted!”

Beth burst out laughing. “I knew that would get you.”

Viv shook her head, half-laughing, half-offended. “Four years and you’re still a menace.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” Viv said softly. “I really do.”

⸻

Later that night, after the dishes were lazily rinsed and the wine had made them both just a little giggly, they curled up on the couch under one blanket.

Viv’s head rested on Beth’s shoulder, legs tangled.

The TV played, but neither of them was watching.

Viv whispered, “Would you want kids? One day?”

Beth didn’t answer immediately. She traced slow circles on Viv’s arm.

“Yeah,” she said eventually. “One day. With the right person.”

Viv looked up at her.

Beth smiled.

Viv kissed her shoulder. “We’re gonna be such embarrassing parents.”

Beth nodded. “Old married couple energy but with prams and toddler snacks.”

“And matching raincoats.”

Beth paused. “Okay, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.”

Viv grinned. “You say that now…”

They fell asleep like that. Entwined, warm, and wrapped in the kind of silence you only earn after years of knowing someone — the kind of silence that feels like home.

Chapter Text

Beth Mead stood in front of the wardrobe holding two very similar black dresses and one deeply unfortunate jumpsuit she wasn’t sure why she owned.

Behind her, Viv was lying on the bed in joggers and a hoodie, phone balanced on her stomach, scrolling aimlessly. Every now and then, she offered some deeply unhelpful commentary.

“The one on the left says ‘serious professional,’” Viv said without looking up. “The one on the right says ‘please compliment my shoes.’”

Beth huffed. “I need it to say ‘credible journalist who isn’t having a quiet meltdown inside.’”

Viv finally looked up, smiling. “Then maybe go naked. Everyone would be too distracted to notice your nerves.”

Beth tossed a pillow at her. “Useless.”

Viv caught it and tucked it under her head. “You’re the one who said I had to come as your plus one. You didn’t say anything about being a fashion consultant.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Viv grinned. “I hear that a lot.”

Beth groaned dramatically and turned back to the mirror, holding the dress up to her front again.

Tonight was the Women in Sports Media Awards — an event Beth had covered plenty of times, but never been part of. She’d been nominated for “Outstanding Sports Feature” for her longform piece on the rise of women’s football in Europe. It was a big deal. A really big deal. And it was the first time Viv was stepping into her world — the world of press passes, polished small talk, and polished shoes.

She didn’t love being seen, not like this.

“I feel weird,” Beth admitted.

Viv sat up properly, studying her. “Weird how?”

Beth shrugged. “Like I’m going to be surrounded by people who expect me to be smarter, cooler, more together than I actually am.”

Viv tilted her head. “You wrote a feature that made my dad cry. You’re already smarter and cooler than half the people who’ll be there.”

Beth smiled, just a little. “Your dad cried because I mentioned stroopwafels in the opening paragraph.”

“Still counts.”

⸻

They arrived at the venue — a sleek, modern hall in central London — just before 7:30. The sun was setting, casting golden light over the entryway as people in suits and gowns buzzed in groups.

Viv looked sharp in a tailored black suit and open-collared shirt. She’d even styled her hair instead of letting it fall in its usual post-training bun. Beth, despite all her internal drama, looked effortlessly elegant in a simple dress and heels she was already regretting.

As they stepped into the atrium, a small wave of camera flashes met them. Not paparazzi-level, but enough to make Beth stiffen.

Viv leaned in, whispering, “Want me to do something embarrassing to distract them?”

Beth smiled without turning. “Don’t tempt me.”

A photographer called out, “Beth Mead! Quick photo, please?”

Beth hesitated, then nodded, pulling Viv gently beside her.

Someone nearby whispered, “Wait… is that Vivianne Miedema?”

Viv chuckled low. “Fame follows you everywhere, huh?”

Beth smirked. “You’re the plus one tonight. Just don’t overshadow me.”

Viv took her hand, squeezed it gently. “Never. This is your spotlight.”

⸻

Inside, the room buzzed with soft music and the low hum of networking. White round tables filled the space, with name cards and wine glasses already set. Their table — near the front — included a few other nominees Beth vaguely knew and a couple of media execs.

Beth nodded politely, introduced Viv when needed, and kept sipping her wine.

“You okay?” Viv whispered at one point, hand brushing Beth’s under the table.

“Yeah. Just… it’s weird seeing all these people reading my work and knowing it was me.”

“They should know. You’re good at what you do.”

Beth looked at her. “You’re being very sweet tonight.”

Viv shrugged. “Just proud. That’s all.”

⸻

When the “Outstanding Sports Feature” category came up, Beth let out a breath and tried to look neutral.

“And the award goes to… Beth Mead, for A Game of Their Own!”

Beth froze.

Viv’s hand closed around hers and squeezed tight. “Go on, superstar.”

Beth stood — still stunned — and made her way up to the stage.

The lights were bright, the applause real, and the words on the teleprompter meaningless. She gripped the award in both hands and blinked at the crowd.

“I… wow. I honestly didn’t think I’d be up here tonight,” she started. “I usually write the words, not speak them.”

Laughter.

“But this story meant something to me. Not just because it’s about football — though of course it is — but because it’s about the people behind the game. The girls who grow up thinking the pitch belongs to them too. The players who fight for their space. The fans who believe in something bigger.”

She paused, scanning the crowd, eyes locking on Viv — who gave her a small, proud smile.

“And finally… to the person who reads my rough drafts, listens to me rant about bad headline fonts, and reminds me I’m good even when I think I’m average at best — Viv, this is yours too. Thank you.”

More applause. A few “awws.” Viv blinked a little too fast.

Beth smiled, ducked her head, and left the stage.

⸻

After the ceremony, champagne flowed and people mingled more freely. A few guests approached Beth to congratulate her. She handled it with practiced charm — but always circled back to Viv, who hovered nearby like a quiet anchor.

Eventually, Viv tugged her gently away from the noise and into a quiet corner behind one of the flower displays.

“You were amazing,” Viv said softly.

Beth looked down, almost shy. “You think?”

“I know,” Viv said. “You spoke like you’d been doing this forever.”

“I was shaking.”

“Didn’t show.”

Beth leaned into her. “I can’t believe I mentioned you in the speech.”

“I can,” Viv said. “You always tell the truth.”

Beth looked at her — really looked — and felt something tighten in her chest. A kind of quiet awe.

“Why do you always know exactly what to say?”

Viv smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind Beth’s ear. “Because I know you.”

⸻

When they got home later — Beth’s heels dangling from one hand, Viv’s tie stuffed into her coat pocket — they collapsed on the sofa, legs tangled, the award sitting quietly on the coffee table.

Beth yawned. “My feet are furious with me.”

Viv gently massaged her calf. “They forgive you. You won.”

Beth smiled sleepily. “You didn’t have to come tonight, you know.”

Viv looked at her, brow furrowed. “Of course I did.”

“I mean… I know media stuff isn’t really your thing.”

“It’s your thing. So now it’s mine too.”

Beth looked at the award. “Do you think… we’re actually becoming that couple?”

Viv tilted her head. “What couple?”

“You know… the ones that show up to everything together. Mention each other in speeches. Finish each other’s sentences. Basically married.”

Viv leaned back and pulled her close. “If that’s us, I don’t mind.”

Beth rested her head on Viv’s shoulder. “Me neither.”

Silence settled over them, warm and full.

Then Viv said, “But next time, I’m picking the shoes. You nearly broke your ankles.”

Beth groaned. “I should’ve worn boots.”

Viv grinned. “That’s why you need me.”

Beth smiled, half-asleep already. “Yeah… that’s one reason.”

Chapter Text

Beth had been planning this moment since early morning. Operation Seduce Viv: Mission “Make Tonight Different.” She’d spent half the day scrolling through lingerie websites, wondering if she dared to order anything, and the other half trying to cook a meal that didn’t look like it belonged in a hospital cafeteria. The candles were lit, the wine was chilling, and George Michael’s Careless Whisper was quietly playing—a soundtrack she hoped was sexy enough but not too cheesy.

Her heart was pounding, and she paced the living room nervously, smoothing down her shirt for the third time and practicing what she thought might be a sultry smile. The problem was, Beth didn’t do sultry very well. She was more “endearing goofball” than “mysterious seductress,” and she knew Viv knew it, which made her both more nervous and strangely excited.

The front door clicked open. Beth’s breath hitched.

Viv stepped inside, towel slung casually over her shoulder, damp hair pulled back messily. She kicked off her trainers, glancing around and immediately spotting the low lights, the flickering candles, the plate of chicken (which probably looked a bit sad), and the wine waiting on the coffee table.

Beth tried to act cool, but her knees felt like jelly.

“Wow,” Viv said, a slow smile spreading across her face. “What’s all this?”

Beth’s voice dropped an octave, or at least she hoped it did. “Hey, beautiful. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Viv raised a brow, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Is that right?”

Beth took a step closer, trying to channel all the smooth talkers she’d interviewed over the years. “Yeah. About your strength, your agility, the way you run circles around defenders and still make it home looking gorgeous…”

Viv laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re much better at sports commentary than this.”

Beth blushed but pressed on. “Maybe later, I could whisper all the things you want to hear. You know, the kind of things that make your heart race.”

Viv smirked. “You mean like dirty talk?”

Beth’s cheeks flamed. “If you want it.”

Viv laughed outright. “Beth, you’re adorable. But if you try to get dirty on me right now, I’m pretty sure I’ll lose it.”

Beth smiled sheepishly. “Guess I’m not the femme fatale I thought I was.”

Viv reached out, pulling Beth gently into a hug. “I love you just the way you are—awkward, genuine, and completely you.”

They sat down to eat, the meal far from perfect but made special by their easy laughter and the shared comfort of being together. After dinner, Viv stretched out on the couch, letting out a contented sigh as she got comfortable.

Beth watched her for a moment, then bit her lip and disappeared into the bedroom.

She returned a few minutes later, wearing the lingerie she’d nervously chosen that afternoon—a delicate lace set that made her feel both exposed and brave. She paused in the doorway, suddenly unsure, cheeks flushed.

Viv blinked, surprised, then smiled gently. “Wow…”

Beth’s smile wavered. “Is it… weird? I mean, I thought maybe—”

Viv sat up, reaching for Beth’s hands. “No. Not weird at all. Just unexpected.”

Beth swallowed hard, the vulnerability suddenly overwhelming. “I thought I’d be more… seductive. But I think I just look ridiculous.”

Viv shook her head firmly, her eyes warm. “You don’t look ridiculous. You look beautiful. And honestly, seeing you like this—nervous and real—makes me love you even more.”

Beth’s eyes welled up a bit. “You really mean that?”

Viv stood and wrapped her arms around Beth, pulling her close. “Every word.”

Before Beth could say anything else, Viv scooped her up effortlessly, carrying her bridal-style toward the bedroom.

Beth laughed breathlessly. “Okay, okay! I’m not that light, you know.”

Viv grinned. “You’re my feather. And tonight, you’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

They collapsed onto the bed, the warmth between them growing with every shared smile and whispered word. The candles flickered low, the playlist drifted on, and all the awkward attempts at seduction melted into quiet moments of love, laughter, and comfort.

Viv brushed a loose strand of hair from Beth’s face, smiling softly. “You don’t have to try so hard for me. I’m already yours.”

Beth’s heart swelled. “I just wanted tonight to be special.”

Viv kissed her forehead. “It already is.”

And in that moment, surrounded by flickering candlelight and the quiet hum of late-night music, Beth realized that seduction didn’t have to be perfect. It just had to be real.

⸻

Viv carried Beth effortlessly across the bedroom threshold, the soft sheets waiting to catch them. Beth’s laughter bubbled up as she wrapped her arms around Viv’s neck, feeling that thrilling mix of safe and loved that never got old. But underneath it, a flutter stirred in her stomach, a reminder that even after four years, moments like this still made her heart race.

Viv gently lowered Beth onto the bed and settled beside her, eyes shining with warmth. “You okay, love?” she asked, brushing a stray strand of hair from Beth’s flushed cheek.

Beth blinked up at her, suddenly shy under that soft gaze. “I think I’m… flustered,” she admitted, twisting a finger nervously in the sheets. “I don’t know why it still hits me like this.”

Viv’s smile softened. “Because it means something. Because you want to be perfect for me.”

Beth bit her lip. “But I’m not perfect. I get awkward and tongue-tied.”

Viv leaned in, capturing Beth’s lips with a slow, tender kiss. When they parted, Viv’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “That’s why I love you. Awkward and all.”

Before Beth could reply, Viv started peppering soft kisses all over her face—on her forehead, her cheeks, her nose. Each kiss was warm and gooey and full of adoration. Beth’s cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red, her breath catching every time Viv’s lips found a new spot.

“See?” Viv whispered against Beth’s skin, her breath warm and inviting. “I’m obsessed with you.”

Beth giggled, squirming a little under the affectionate assault. “You’re ridiculous.”

Viv smiled, pulling Beth closer, her hands tracing gentle lines along Beth’s arms. “Ridiculously in love with you.”

Beth’s heart fluttered wildly. “I tried to be seductive tonight,” she confessed, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think it really worked.”

Viv chuckled softly, tilting Beth’s chin up to meet her eyes. “You don’t have to try. You’re already the most irresistible thing in this room.”

Beth swallowed, cheeks burning. “Even when I sound silly?”

“Especially then.” Viv’s voice was soft and playful.

Beth scooted closer, feeling the heat radiating from Viv’s body, the flutter in her stomach growing stronger. “I want to make tonight special.”

Viv cupped Beth’s face in her hands, her thumbs tracing soft circles over her skin. “You already have, just by being you.”

Their lips met again, this time deeper, more urgent. Beth’s fingers tangled in Viv’s hair as the nervous excitement swelled inside her, but Viv’s gentle touch kept her grounded, loved, and safe.

Viv pulled back just enough to smile down at Beth. “Four years, and you still get flustered around me?”

Beth nodded shyly. “Yeah. I think I always will.”

Viv’s eyes softened, and she kissed Beth all over again—slow and sweet on her forehead, nose, cheeks, and finally, a long, lingering kiss on her lips.

“I never want that to change,” Viv whispered. “I want you to feel this—me—every time. Forever.”

Beth rested her head against Viv’s chest, her nerves settling into a warm glow. “I love you.”

Viv’s arms wrapped tighter around her. “I love you too. Now, how about we stop talking and start showing?”

Beth laughed softly, her nervousness melting away under Viv’s tender kisses and loving touch, ready for whatever came next—knowing that with Viv, every moment, every flutter, every kiss was exactly where she wanted to be.

Viv’s lips lingered on Beth’s, soft and slow, like a promise whispered in the quiet of the night. The warmth of her touch spread through Beth like a gentle flame, chasing away the last bits of nervousness and replacing it with something sweet and electric.

Beth’s fingers threaded through Viv’s hair, tugging lightly as Viv deepened the kiss, their bodies pressing closer together on the soft sheets. The world outside the room seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them wrapped in the quiet intimacy of this shared moment.

Viv’s hands began to roam, tracing the familiar curves of Beth’s body with reverence and care, each touch sending sparks of pleasure through Beth’s skin. Beth shivered under Viv’s fingertips, the flutter in her stomach growing stronger—this time filled with anticipation and love.

“You’re so beautiful,” Viv murmured against Beth’s lips, her breath warm and steady.

Beth smiled, breathless. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Viv whispered, her hands moving lower, exploring, learning anew every inch of Beth’s skin.

Beth’s heart pounded in her chest, but with Viv, it felt like the most natural thing in the world—to give herself fully, to be seen and adored. The playful nervousness of earlier melted into something deeper—a profound connection that made every touch, every kiss, every whisper feel sacred.

Viv’s lips trailed down Beth’s jawline, across her collarbone, planting soft kisses that made Beth’s skin tingle. Beth arched into Viv’s touch, eyes closing as waves of warmth spread through her. Viv’s hands slid beneath Beth’s shirt, fingers dancing lightly over her ribs, sending delicious shivers through her.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Viv whispered, her voice thick with care and desire.

Beth shook her head, biting her lip. “Don’t stop.”

With a tender smile, Viv pulled Beth’s shirt over her head, revealing skin kissed by soft lamplight. Beth’s breath hitched as Viv’s gaze drank her in, eyes filled with awe and love.

Viv’s hands cupped Beth’s face again before she lowered her mouth to kiss her, slow and reverent, as if memorizing every inch. Beth felt herself surrendering, letting go of every worry, every doubt.

Their clothes began to fall away, pieces slipping off with gentle urgency, revealing more skin, more of themselves. Viv’s touch was both confident and careful, exploring, worshipping, reminding Beth that she was wanted, cherished, adored.

Beth’s heart raced, but she felt safe—safe in Viv’s arms, safe in their love. The nervous fluttering from before had blossomed into something pure and fierce and full of promise.

As Viv’s hands traced down Beth’s body, their eyes met, and Beth saw in Viv’s gaze the same mix of tenderness and desire that made her feel so utterly loved.

“Forever,” Viv whispered, lips brushing against Beth’s ear.

Beth smiled through her breath. “Forever.”

And with that, the night wrapped around them, soft and warm, as they moved together in perfect rhythm—two hearts beating as one, tangled in love, laughter, and whispered promises.

Chapter Text

It started with oat milk.

A single, stupid carton of oat milk.

Beth knew how ridiculous it was. Even in the moment, as her voice rose and her hands tightened around the back of the dining chair, she knew that this wasn’t just about oat milk. But the words kept coming, louder and sharper than she meant them to be, and the ache in her chest only grew.

Viv, to her credit, had stood her ground. That was part of the problem. The way she brushed it off, casually dropping her bag onto the bench like she hadn’t just walked in 45 minutes later than she’d said, with the groceries in tow — minus the one thing Beth had actually asked for.

“I get it,” Beth said, hands now on her hips. “You had training. You were tired. You were busy.”

“I was,” Viv said simply, moving to unpack the bag.

Beth scoffed. “Right. And I’m just sitting here all day twiddling my thumbs?”

Viv froze, turning slowly. “That’s not what I said.”

“No, but it’s what you meant,” Beth snapped. “Every time I ask for one thing—one—you manage to forget it.”

Viv’s jaw tensed. “Don’t start with that.”

Beth threw up her hands. “Don’t start with what? You forgetting things, or me expecting basic help in the house we both live in?”

There was a pause. That dangerous kind of silence where both people teeter at the edge of saying something unforgivable.

Then Viv said it anyway.

“It’s oat milk, Beth. It’s not a crisis. Stop acting like the world’s ending.”

Beth blinked.

And then she laughed—but not the nice kind. The brittle kind. “Wow,” she said. “Good to know where your priorities are.”

She walked out, heart thudding, not trusting herself to say another word. She heard Viv call her name softly behind her, but Beth was already halfway down the hall, locking herself in the bedroom.

⸻

Beth didn’t cry. But she did stand in the middle of the room for several minutes, breathing too fast, trying to push the anger down before it turned into something else.

She wasn’t mad because of the oat milk. Not really. She was mad because Viv had started slipping lately — in small ways. Forgetting things. Dismissing things. Laughing off what mattered to Beth with that damn calm voice of hers. And Beth, who always tried so hard to be patient, was tired of being the one who kept the thread tied tight between them.

She heard Viv in the kitchen. Heard drawers opening and closing, the sound of cutlery, footsteps across the floor.

But no knock at the door.

That part hurt the most.

⸻

Later that evening, Beth emerged to bake. Because the cupcakes were for her niece, and kids don’t care if their aunt and her girlfriend were passive-aggressively ignoring each other. Kids just want sugar.

She didn’t look at Viv when she passed her on the couch. Didn’t respond when Viv said a tentative “Hey.” Just put her earbuds in and turned up her playlist, letting the comfort of flour and eggs and recipes do the talking for her.

Viv watched from the doorway for a while. But eventually, Beth heard her footsteps retreat back to the bedroom.

The silence between them stretched, thick as honey and twice as hard to swallow.

⸻

It wasn’t until the morning, when Beth trudged into the kitchen half-asleep and still wearing Viv’s hoodie (though she’d never admit it), that something cracked.

On the fridge, held up by their tacky little magnet shaped like a football boot, was a yellow sticky note.

“I forgot the oat milk. But I never forget how much I love you.”

Beth stared at it.

Next to the note was a full carton of oat milk, and a white paper bag from the bakery on the corner. She didn’t have to open it to know there were two almond croissants inside — her favourite. Viv must have gone before sunrise.

She turned the note over, already smiling despite herself.

“P.S. Sorry I was a dick. You didn’t deserve that. I’d buy you 400 cartons of oat milk if it meant you’d smile at me again.”

“Idiot,” Beth muttered, biting her lip to stop the grin.

Behind her, footsteps approached. Beth turned to see Viv, freshly showered, towel slung around her neck, hair damp and eyes sleepy.

“I didn’t hear you get up,” Beth said.

Viv shrugged sheepishly. “Didn’t sleep much. Figured I’d go early. Before you had to yell at me for ruining breakfast again.”

Beth rolled her eyes, walking over slowly. “You didn’t ruin breakfast.”

Viv raised a brow. “You sure? You barely looked at me last night.”

“I was mad.”

“I know.”

“I still kind of am.”

Viv nodded. “That’s fair.”

“But…” Beth leaned in, resting her head lightly on Viv’s shoulder. “You’re forgiven. Mostly. Because the croissants are warm.”

Viv chuckled softly, wrapping her arms around Beth’s waist. “I meant what I wrote. About the oat milk.”

Beth pulled back just enough to look at her. “Even the part about 400 cartons?”

“Absolutely. I’d fill the bathtub with it if that’s what it takes.”

Beth laughed for real then — honest and sudden. “Please don’t. That would be disgusting.”

“Yeah, probably,” Viv agreed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But I would.”

Beth tilted her chin up slightly. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“When you brushed it off last night, it wasn’t about the milk. It felt like you were brushing me off. That’s what hurt.”

Viv’s face softened. “I didn’t realise. I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” Beth said. “And I know you’ve had a lot going on. But I need to feel like we’re in this together.”

“We are,” Viv promised, arms tightening around her. “Even when I’m being a tired, oat milk–forgetting idiot.”

Beth smiled into her chest. “Especially then.”

They stood in the middle of the kitchen like that for a long time, the yellow note still fluttering on the fridge behind them.

Love, it turned out, wasn’t always dramatic. Sometimes it was almond croissants, a sticky note apology, and two people learning — again and again — how to meet each other in the middle.

Chapter Text

It started with a cup left half-drunk on the windowsill.

Then came the pile of laundry that stayed folded but not put away for two full days, and the post-it note stuck to the fridge that read “don’t forget to eat something” — not from Viv, but from Beth to herself.

Viv knew the signs.

Beth wasn’t burnt out yet, not fully. But she was fraying.

Not snapping. Just… unraveling a little.

Viv watched her partner power through the week like a machine — typing away on her laptop long after dinner, glued to her phone even when she was supposedly “off.” When Beth was stressed, she got quiet, tunnel-visioned. She started doing that thing where she’d nod when Viv talked, but with her eyes somewhere else entirely.

And tonight, watching Beth sit cross-legged on the couch, dark circles under her eyes, a spoon in one hand and a tub of yogurt in the other, Viv decided she’d seen enough.

No dramatic gestures. No lectures. Just… something soft to interrupt the spiral.

She closed her laptop, padded over, and planted herself in front of Beth.

“Put that yogurt down.”

Beth blinked up at her. “Why?”

“Because you’re going to go take a shower and get dressed. Something nice. Something you feel good in.”

Beth gave her a look. “Why?”

“Because we’re going out.”

Beth let out a breath — not quite a groan, but it was close. “Viv, I’m really not in the mood for anything right now.”

Viv crouched down, gently taking the yogurt tub from her hand.

“I know,” she said softly. “And that’s exactly why we’re doing something.”

Beth’s face twisted. “I don’t want to have to talk to people or make small talk or—”

Viv touched her knee. “It’s just us. No big outing. No crowd. Just a little date. A tiny one. You don’t even have to be charming.”

Beth gave her a flat look.

“I mean, you’ll probably be charming anyway,” Viv said, standing up with a smile. “But that’s entirely optional.”

Beth sighed and leaned back into the couch, her head tipping toward the ceiling. “You’re really not going to let me sulk in peace, are you?”

Viv raised an eyebrow. “Have I ever?”

Beth grumbled, but stood. “Alright, fine. But only because if I sit here for one more hour I might merge with the furniture.”

Viv grinned. “Atta girl.”

⸻

Twenty-five minutes later, Beth stepped out of the bedroom looking like herself again — or at least a closer version of her. Not polished, not flashy, but warm and glowing in a simple dark dress Viv hadn’t seen her wear in months.

Viv, standing by the door with the keys in hand, stared.

Beth paused. “What?”

“You’re—” Viv cleared her throat. “You’re ridiculously fit, you know that?”

Beth raised an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “You saw me ten minutes ago in sweatpants with yogurt in my hair.”

Viv nodded solemnly. “And I still wanted to marry you then. But now I also want to write poems about you and pin them to trees.”

Beth let out an actual laugh — short, surprised, but real. “Alright, Shakespeare. Let’s go.”

⸻

Viv took her to their spot — the cozy bistro on the corner near the park, the one with fairy lights tangled in the windows and tiny tables that forced people to sit close.

Beth blinked when they arrived. “Wait, this place?”

Viv nodded. “They had a cancellation.”

“You made a reservation?”

Viv shrugged. “I was optimistic.”

Beth smiled a little as they walked in, brushing her hand against Viv’s in the quiet, familiar way they always did.

⸻

The evening unfolded slowly, gently.

Beth was quiet at first — not moody, just tired. Viv did most of the talking, peppering in dumb stories from training, bad impressions of their teammates, little observations she’d saved throughout the week.

By the time the mains arrived, Beth was sitting forward again, actually listening, occasionally tossing in dry commentary that made Viv grin.

When the waiter brought out the dessert — Beth’s favourite hazelnut cake — Viv saw it: that flicker of light in her eyes again.

“You did this on purpose,” Beth muttered.

Viv forked a bite of her own and feigned innocence. “Do what?”

Beth gave her a look, then leaned back in her chair, shoulders loosening. “You’re obnoxiously good at cheering me up.”

Viv reached for her hand across the table. “Not obnoxious. Just in love.”

Beth rolled her eyes, but she didn’t let go.

⸻

On the way home, Viv took a left instead of a right. Beth glanced out the window.

“This isn’t the way.”

“I know,” Viv said. “One more stop.”

Beth frowned. “What, are you kidnapping me?”

“Obviously. You’re going to become my housewife and make me toast in the mornings.”

“I already do that.”

“Then my plan is going great.”

Beth snorted. “Where are we going?”

Viv didn’t answer until they pulled into the parking lot of the small, locally owned pet shop they always used.

Beth blinked. “Are we—?”

“Myle gets a toy.”

Beth laughed under her breath. “You’re bribing me with dog joy now?”

Viv grinned. “It always works.”

⸻

Inside, they wandered the aisles. Beth made a beeline for the plush toys while Viv slowly trailed behind, watching her soften in real-time.

“This one?” Beth asked, holding up a fluffy pink unicorn.

Viv tilted her head. “Too cute. She’ll feel bad destroying it.”

Beth held up a rubber donut with googly eyes. “This one?”

“She’ll swallow it whole.”

Eventually, Beth found a lopsided stuffed elephant with flappy ears and one missing eye.

“She’ll love this,” Beth said softly.

Viv smiled. “Just like her mum. A little wonky, but full of heart.”

Beth turned and swatted her gently with the toy. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m irresistible.”

⸻

That night, with Myle contentedly chewing on her new elephant at their feet, Viv curled up next to Beth on the couch.

She didn’t say much. Just traced slow, absentminded circles on Beth’s arm with her fingertips.

Beth leaned her head on Viv’s shoulder and let out a long, tired breath. But it wasn’t the heavy kind. Not anymore.

After a long pause, Beth whispered, “Thanks for not letting me disappear this week.”

Viv kissed the top of her head. “You never disappear. You just get quiet. And I know how to find you.”

Beth turned slightly, burying her face into Viv’s neck.

“I love you, you know.”

Viv smiled into her hair. “Yeah. I know.”

Beth looked up at her. “And I’m sorry I get like this.”

“You don’t have to apologise for being human,” Viv said softly. “You just have to let me love you through it.”

And Beth, exhausted and held, nodded. “Okay.”

Chapter Text

It happened over cereal.

Not even good cereal. The off-brand kind Beth had insisted was “basically the same” as the name-brand one, and had smugly proven herself right about. The box was already half-empty, mostly dust, and Viv was annoyed because the last proper bowl had clearly already been claimed.

By Beth.

Who was currently sat cross-legged on the kitchen counter in a baggy hoodie, pouring the very last of the knock-off cereal into a bowl, whistling — and here’s the thing — not even well.

“Did you just eat the last of it?” Viv asked, blinking at her, betrayed.

Beth glanced up, unapologetic. “You snooze, you lose, baby.”

“I was in the shower.”

“And I was in the mood for crunch.”

Viv opened the cupboard, found nothing but bran flakes and self-loathing, and turned around to glare at her. “This is how wars start.”

Beth grinned and kicked her legs like a child, bare feet swinging against the cupboard. “You can have a bite.”

“A bite?” Viv deadpanned.

“A generous bite.”

Viv crossed the room, snatched the spoon right out of Beth’s hand, and stole half the bowl in one mouthful.

Beth gasped like she’d been robbed at knifepoint. “You’re a monster!”

“You offered.”

“A bite, not a full excavation!”

Viv handed the spoon back calmly. “Should’ve been more specific.”

Beth stared at her with faux outrage, narrowed eyes and puffed cheeks, then wordlessly picked up a piece of cereal and flicked it at Viv’s forehead.

It stuck.

And that was it.

That was the moment.

Viv just stood there, and watched the woman she loved try and fail to look stern.

And all of a sudden, in that tiny, ridiculous, completely unromantic kitchen, it hit her like a freight train:

Oh.

I’m going to marry her.

Not in a maybe-one-day way.

Not in a theoretical, nice-to-think-about way.

In an actual, vivid, God-help-me-where’s-the-ring-size-chart way.

Beth was still arguing something — probably about spoon etiquette or food theft — but Viv wasn’t listening anymore. Her ears were full of noise and her chest was full of Beth and it was all so stupidly clear.

The feeling was… weird.

Huge.

Unreasonable.

Beth Mead, the love of her life, looked like chaos incarnate. Her hair was half-dried, she had cereal milk on her chin, and she was now pretending to duel Viv with a spoon.

And all Viv could think was:

Yeah. This is it. She’s it. Forever.

Beth caught her staring. Paused.

“What?”

Viv blinked. “What?”

“You’re looking at me like I’ve grown a second head.”

Viv smirked, recovering. “Just wondering how someone so small can be so full of nonsense.”

Beth grinned, pleased. “It’s a gift.”

Viv leaned against the counter beside her, still a bit dazed, but covering it well. “You’re definitely something.”

Beth scooped the last mouthful from the bowl and said, with a shrug: “I’m your problem.”

And Viv, internally screaming, thought:

Yeah. For the rest of my life, hopefully.

⸻

She didn’t say it. Not yet.

The moment passed. Beth hopped off the counter, kissed her cheek like it was nothing, and disappeared into the hallway to find her phone, humming again — still slightly out of tune.

Viv stayed where she was, one hand braced on the counter, the ghost of that cereal flake still on her skin.

She could feel her face pulling into a grin she couldn’t stop if she tried.

And under her breath, to no one in particular, she whispered:

“Well, that was unexpected.”

Chapter Text

“I’m serious, Viv. If you say ‘it doesn’t feel like Beth’ one more time, I’m going to crawl under this glass case and disappear forever.”

Jill Roord had her chin propped up on her hand, elbow on the velvet counter, watching Viviane Miedema pick up her seventh ring of the hour and immediately put it down again with a sigh like she’d just been personally betrayed by it.

“I mean, look at it,” Viv said, gesturing to a perfectly fine solitaire ring. “That’s not Beth.”

“It’s literally a diamond ring, Viv,” Jill said flatly. “It’s not meant to be Beth. It’s meant to go on her finger.”

“It’s too sparkly.”

“It’s supposed to sparkle.”

Viv glared. “She’s not a ‘sparkly’ person.”

Jill squinted. “Didn’t she wear a glitter top brunch last week?”

“That was a phase.”

“Viv, it was last week.”

Viv picked up another ring. Gold, thin band, small diamond. Frowned. “Too subtle.”

Jill groaned. “Okay, now I’m officially concerned for you.”

The poor shop assistant stood by, offering polite nods and discreetly hiding her amusement. She was either deeply invested in this obvious trainwreck of a proposal mission, or mentally drafting a TikTok about “The Woman Who Rejected 40 Rings.”

“I’m just saying,” Viv muttered, “if I’m going to ask Beth to marry me, I need the ring to be her. It has to be loud-but-lowkey. Cool but not trying too hard. Fun but not cheesy. Stylish, but not, like… trendy.”

Jill blinked. “Wow. I actually just had a headache.”

Viv kept staring down at the display, clearly stressed. “This is a big moment, Jill.”

“I know it is! But Beth isn’t going to say no because the ring isn’t vibey enough.”

Viv scowled. “Did you just say ‘vibey’?”

“I’m under pressure.”

Viv sighed, rubbing her forehead. Jill, ever the chaos-magnet, crossed her arms and leaned in.

“You want the truth?” she said. “Beth would probably marry you if you asked her with a Haribo ring.”

Viv looked appalled. “That’s disgusting.”

“It’s true.”

Viv glanced at another ring. Shook her head. “Too chunky.”

“Viv.”

“Too delicate.”

“VIV.”

Viv groaned. “I didn’t think this would be so hard. She’s just… not a cookie-cutter person. She’s Beth. I want her to look at it and feel like her hand belongs to it. You know?”

Jill softened. Just a little.

“Okay,” she said. “That’s actually kind of cute. Borderline poetic. Still unhinged.”

Viv gave her a look. “You’re no help.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’ve been humming the Love Island theme for fifteen minutes.”

“Coping mechanism.”

Then, just as Jill was about to fake an ankle injury to escape, Viv froze.

It was in the corner of the case. Tucked beside a few rings that didn’t scream for attention. A slim, brushed gold band, slightly matte, with a small, off-center diamond set sideways.

Simple. But bold.

Viv pointed. “Can I see that one?”

The assistant smiled like she’d been waiting for that moment all day. She pulled it out, handed it over gently.

Viv turned it over in her fingers.

It didn’t sparkle too much. It didn’t try too hard. It was elegant, just a little unexpected — like Beth. Confident without shouting. Beautiful without needing anyone to say it.

Jill watched the change in Viv’s face happen in real time.

“Oh no,” Jill said. “You’re doing the face.”

“What face?”

“The dumb ‘this is it’ face.”

Viv smiled, soft and stunned. “This is it.”

Jill looked over her shoulder. Blinked. “Wow. Okay, yeah. That’s… very Beth.”

Viv nodded slowly. “It’s perfect.”

The assistant checked the price. Smiled politely. “This one is a little over budget, though.”

Viv didn’t even blink. “That’s fine.”

Jill choked. “Wait. You told me this ring hunt had a strict limit! You refused to go over it for four shops!”

Viv turned the ring over in her hand again. “I’d pay double. She’s going to wear it for the rest of her life.”

Jill blinked. “You’re disgustingly in love, you know that?”

Viv shrugged. “Yeah.”

And in that moment — standing in a quiet shop on a rainy Thursday afternoon, clutching a ring that felt just right — Viv felt it settle. The nerves, the panic, the pressure.

She could finally picture it. Not just the ring on Beth’s hand, but the way Beth would hold it up to the light, call it “a bit dramatic,” and then kiss her senseless anyway.

She could picture the whole future.

And for the first time all day, she let herself grin like an idiot.

Jill rolled her eyes. “Well, at least now you can stop rejecting rings like they personally offended you.”

Viv elbowed her. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll invoice you for emotional labour later.”

As they walked out, rain still falling in sheets outside, Viv held the tiny box in her coat pocket like it was the most important thing in the world.

Because it kind of was.

⸻

Viv got home soaked through, the box still tucked safely in the inner pocket of her coat like a secret she wasn’t ready to share yet. Her hair was wet, shoes muddy, and her shoulders tense from the weight of it all — the decision, the emotions, the surprise she now had to keep under wraps until the moment was right.

She didn’t even get through the door before she heard it.

Beth’s voice, loud and exasperated from the kitchen.

“—and THEN the guy has the actual nerve to tell me that writing a 1,200-word feature on deadline is ‘easy’ because I ‘just talk about sport.’ I mean—HELLO?! Have you ever even written an email that isn’t riddled with typos, Gary from PR?!”

Viv smiled to herself. She didn’t announce she was home. She just stood in the hallway for a second, watching Beth through the kitchen doorway.

Beth was in a hoodie and joggers, hair piled up in a messy knot, pacing barefoot and holding a mug of tea like it was fueling her rage. She didn’t even notice Viv walk in — she was too busy ranting, arms flying as she mimed Gary’s condescending voice.

“And THEN, like cherry on top, he sends me a GIF, Viv. A GIF. Of a penguin typing. Like that’s meant to be charming? I wanted to slam my laptop shut and throw it into the sun.”

Viv dropped her keys into the bowl and stepped forward. Still silent.

Beth turned around, ready to carry on—only to stop short when Viv gently caught her face with both hands and kissed her.

Soft, long, warm.

Not rushed or steamy. Just steady. Like she needed to feel Beth grounded in her palms for a second longer than usual.

Beth blinked up at her when they broke apart. Her voice dropped immediately.

“…What was that for?”

Viv smiled — heart full, coat dripping, brain still reeling from the little ring box in her coat pocket.

“Nothing,” she murmured, brushing her thumb along Beth’s cheek. “Just missed you.”

Beth’s mouth twitched. “You’re acting weird.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. That was a very romantic hello. Like… ‘Notebook’ levels of hello. Did something happen?”

Viv leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Just had a good day.”

Beth narrowed her eyes. “You sure you didn’t kill someone?”

Viv grinned. “Would you be mad if I did?”

Beth considered. “Depends who.”

Viv stepped past her, still smiling to herself, and opened the fridge. “What do you want for dinner?”

Beth squinted suspiciously. “Okay, now I know something’s up.”

But she didn’t press. Because Viv had already handed her a chocolate bar she’d forgotten she bought, and was now rummaging around for the pasta, humming something off-key under her breath.

Beth shook her head, still watching her like she was trying to crack a code.

“Alright, fine,” she said, flopping down at the kitchen table. “But if it turns out you’ve been replaced by a pod person, I’m blaming Jill.”

Viv just laughed — and tucked the ring deeper into her pocket upstairs later that night, smiling like she’d just gotten away with something huge.

Because she had.

And soon, Beth would know.

But for now, she was just happy knowing she’d found the thing that would sit on Beth’s finger for the rest of their lives — even if Beth was still shouting about penguins.

And Viv wouldn’t change a single thing.

Chapter Text

Viv was terrible at keeping secrets.
Not because she was clumsy or forgetful. But because she hated lying to Beth — even over small things. The last time she’d tried to hide that she’d eaten the last of the cookie dough ice cream, Beth had gotten it out of her in under ten seconds with nothing more than a raised eyebrow.

So why she’d decided to plan a top-secret marriage proposal without backup was beyond anyone — including herself.

That’s where Jill came in.

“Okay,” Jill said, sitting cross-legged on Viv’s living room rug, laptop open, a spreadsheet titled “Proposal: Chaos Prevention Plan” on the screen. “We’ve got the ring. You’ve ruled out skywriting, flash mobs, and anything involving dogs wearing signs—”

“Because it’s cringe,” Viv added.

“Because you’re scared of being cringe,” Jill corrected. “Which is adorable, by the way. You’re allowed to have feelings, Viv.”

“I have feelings. I just don’t want to propose to Beth in front of strangers holding sparklers while Coldplay plays.”

“Okay, okay. So what do you want?”

Viv hesitated. She had ideas. So many ideas. But every time she pictured the moment, the details disappeared — all she could focus on was Beth’s face. The face she knew better than her own. The laugh that started in her chest and burst out without warning. The way she called Viv “woman” when she was being dramatic. Which was often.

“I want it to be… us,” Viv said finally. “Not big. Not performative. Just… stupid, in a good way. Something that feels like home.”

Jill smiled. “Then let’s make it stupid, but classy.”

“Beth would kill me if I went full rom-com.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got an idea,” Jill said, flipping to a new tab. “So. I was thinking — what if we book that pub she loves, the one with the string lights in the garden? I already checked — you could get the back patio to yourselves for an hour. Then you make up some excuse to take her there, act normal, and boom — proposal under the lights.”

Viv blinked. “Wait. That’s actually… perfect.”

“I know.”

“I kind of love you.”

“I know.”

Viv grinned, her nerves replaced with something warmer. Hopeful.

Jill turned back to the screen. “Right, now let’s pick a day. You want to do it next week or wait until after camp?”

Viv opened her mouth to answer—

—and the front door clicked.

They both froze.

A beat of silence.

“Viv?” Beth’s voice called. “I’m home! Tesco was chaos, and some old bloke tried to lecture me about oat milk—”

Jill’s eyes widened. “She’s not supposed to be back yet!”

Viv panicked. She launched herself across the floor, slammed the laptop shut, and shoved it behind a pillow on the couch like she was hiding stolen goods.

Beth walked into the room, grocery bag in one hand, her brows already raised.

“…Why do you look like you just committed tax fraud?”

Viv stood awkwardly, heart racing. “Hey! You’re… back early.”

Beth looked between the two of them, narrowing her eyes. “Okay, what’s going on? Why do you both look like you just ate my secret chocolate stash?”

“We were just—” Jill started.

“Watching football,” Viv blurted. “Tactics stuff. Like old times.”

Beth slowly tilted her head. “Tactics.”

“Yep.”

“On your laptop?”

“Yes.”

“And then you shoved it behind a cushion like a raccoon hiding garbage?”

Viv laughed, too hard. “Haha. Classic us.”

Beth turned to Jill. “You, too?”

Jill cleared her throat and shrugged. “What can I say? Big fan of midfield analysis.”

Beth squinted. “You’re both lying. Terribly.”

Viv crossed her arms. “I am not a terrible liar.”

Beth raised an eyebrow. “What happened to the leftover lasagna last night?”

Viv cracked immediately. “Okay, I ate it at 2am, but I was hungry—”

Beth smirked. “Exactly.”

Viv ran a hand through her hair, flustered but trying to stay cool. “It’s nothing, really. Just football talk. Jill popped by. She’s leaving now, actually.”

Jill blinked. “I am?”

Viv shot her a go now look.

“Oh, right. Yes. I’m leaving.” Jill grabbed her jacket. “So great to not talk about anything suspicious at all. See you… later, Beth.”

Beth stared at her. “You’re the worst liar of the two.”

“Tell Viv I said don’t overthink it,” Jill whispered on her way out, winking before she closed the door behind her.

Beth turned to Viv. “Okay. You’re being weird.”

Viv exhaled. Walked over and kissed her cheek.

“You’re always suspicious of me when I’m being nice.”

“Because your ‘being nice’ face is also your ‘hiding something’ face.”

Viv shrugged. “Maybe I’m just happy to see you.”

Beth narrowed her eyes. “Or maybe you’re planning something.”

Viv kissed her again. “You’ll never know.”

Beth huffed but leaned into her anyway, letting Viv wrap her arms around her waist.

“You’re lucky I’m tired,” Beth murmured. “Or I’d interrogate you properly.”

Viv grinned into her hair. “I know.”

Upstairs, in the wardrobe under a stack of winter jumpers, the ring box stayed hidden — for now.

Chapter Text

It all started with laundry.

Not a dramatic beginning, really. But, in Beth’s defence, if Viv had just folded her jumpers like a normal person, Beth never would’ve needed to dig through the bottom drawer in the first place.

Viv was in the kitchen, elbows deep in washing up and humming faintly to herself when she heard the telltale sound of wood scraping open down the hall.

The drawer.

She froze.

The one drawer in the whole flat she had specifically stuffed the little navy-blue ring box into, hidden beneath a tangle of scarves, socks, and a very old Netherlands away kit. The drawer that Beth never opened. Because it had “no logic,” as Viv had said. Because it was, allegedly, full of “nonsense.”

Viv dropped the sponge, flung her hands dry, and bolted.

“BETH!” she called down the hall.

No response.

“Beth, wait—!”

She reached the bedroom doorway just in time to see Beth, bent over, reaching deep into the drawer like she was on a mission to Narnia.

Viv flung herself across the bed like it was a battlefield.

“NO!”

Beth jerked back, startled. “Jesus, Viv, what is wrong with you?!”

Viv scrambled halfway off the bed and slammed the drawer shut with her knee. “You can’t go in there!”

Beth stared at her. “I was looking for your black jumper. The soft one. With the rip under the sleeve.”

“It’s not in there!”

“It is in there. You said you stuffed it somewhere dumb on Sunday!”

Viv blinked. Damn it. She had said that.

Beth crossed her arms. “What are you hiding?”

“Nothing.”

Beth raised a brow. “That was the panicked lunge of a guilty woman.”

“I wasn’t panicking.”

“You said ‘no’ like I’d just tried to adopt a goat.”

Viv stood, awkwardly placing herself between Beth and the drawer like a bouncer at a nightclub. “I just didn’t want you to—mess up the… system.”

Beth barked a laugh. “You think you have a system in there? Viv, it’s a textile apocalypse. There’s a sock from 2019 in there that I’m pretty sure is developing sentience.”

Viv crossed her arms. “It’s organised chaos. Very personal. Very private.”

Beth narrowed her eyes. “Vivianne.”

“Yes?”

Beth leaned to the side, trying to peer around her. Viv matched her, side-stepping like a bad spy movie.

“You are the worst liar,” Beth said.

“I’m Dutch. We don’t lie well.”

“Is it something embarrassing?”

Viv’s mind blanked. “Yes.”

Beth grinned. “Like what? Secret poetry? An ugly hoodie? Are you—wait, are you hiding snacks?”

Viv nodded, latching on. “Yes! Snacks. That’s it.”

Beth lit up. “You told me we were cutting down on snacks!”

Viv panicked again. “I—am. Emotionally. But also… I panic buy chocolate. It’s genetic.”

Beth squinted. “This feels like a cover-up.”

Viv gave her a very serious look. “You have to trust me. Please don’t look in that drawer.”

Beth paused. For a long, suspicious moment. Then she held her hands up. “Okay. Fine.”

Viv blinked. “Really?”

“Really.”

Viv exhaled.

Beth patted her cheek as she walked past. “But now I know you’re hiding something, and I will be solving that mystery.”

Viv groaned. “You’re impossible.”

Beth grinned. “You love it.”

Viv watched her go, heart still thudding against her ribs like it was trying to escape.

She turned back to the drawer once Beth was gone and slowly, carefully, cracked it open. The ring box was still there. Tucked between an ancient scarf and that jumper Beth almost found.

She lifted it gently, cradling the weight of it in her palm.

“Could’ve been worse,” she muttered. “Could’ve been Myle.”

Just then, the sound of Beth’s voice from the kitchen: “Oh, by the way, next time you try to lie, maybe don’t scream the word ‘no’ like a horror movie victim!”

Viv laughed, tucked the box back into its hiding place, and made a mental note: new hiding spot. Immediately.

Chapter Text

Viv had never been so aware of time in her life.

Not during extra time at the Euros. Not during brutal injury recoveries. Not even while waiting in line at passport control on international duty.

But today? Every minute felt like it had an audience.

Because in exactly ten hours, Viv planned to ask Beth Mead to marry her.

And Beth… had absolutely no idea.

⸻

08:12 a.m. – Kitchen

Beth stood by the kettle, blinking sleepily at her phone. She was still wearing her ridiculous penguin pyjamas — the ones Viv claimed to hate, but secretly loved — and was mid-scroll through her news app when Viv entered the kitchen, a little too chipper for a Saturday morning.

“Mornin’, sleepy,” Beth mumbled.

Viv leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You look cute.”

Beth frowned. “You okay?”

“Yep.”

“You’re smiling.”

“Am I not allowed to?”

“You are, but you’re usually only this cheerful when Arsenal lose and you get to be smug.”

Viv chuckled and handed her a cup of tea — perfectly made, two sugars, no oversteeped nonsense. “Just feeling lucky.”

Beth narrowed her eyes over her mug. “You’re weird today.”

“I’m in love,” Viv said.

Beth made a mock-gagging sound. “Urgh. Gross. Not before caffeine.”

Viv smiled behind her own mug.

⸻

10:26 a.m. – Walking Myle

Myle trotted ahead through the park, tail high, nose twitching. Viv kept their hands linked while Beth talked about her latest article idea — something about women in sport broadcasting and subtle bias.

Viv only half-heard it. Not because she wasn’t interested — she was always interested — but because she was busy silently freaking out.

She kept glancing at Beth: the way her nose crinkled when she got passionate, the soft pink of her cheeks in the cold, how easily she reached down to scratch Myle’s head mid-sentence like a reflex.

God, she was so gone.

“What?” Beth asked suddenly, noticing the staring.

“Hm?”

“You’re staring.”

Viv blinked. “You’re just very pretty.”

Beth stared back for a beat. “Have you done something wrong?”

Viv laughed. “No!”

“Are you dying?”

“Beth.”

Beth grinned. “Well, stop looking at me like I hung the moon.”

Viv squeezed her hand. “You kind of did, though.”

Beth went quiet.

“Okay,” she said softly, “now I’m suspicious and blushing.”

⸻

3:47 p.m. – Back at Home

Beth was curled up on the sofa, playing with Myle’s ears and watching some dodgy home renovation show.

Viv came out of the bedroom freshly showered and dressed.

“You’re putting on real clothes?” Beth asked, brow raised. “Are we going out?”

“Yeah,” Viv said, keeping her voice neutral. “Dinner. You’ve had a busy week. I booked somewhere.”

Beth smiled, surprised. “You did that on your own?”

“Believe it or not.”

Beth stretched and yawned. “I suppose I should look mildly presentable then.”

She got up to get ready, and Viv just… watched her go, heart thudding.

⸻

5:58 p.m. – Bedroom Mirror

Viv stood behind Beth as she clipped in a pair of small hoops, trying to find her reflection in the mirror.

Beth caught her eye.

“What?”

Viv leaned down and kissed her cheek — just a little longer than usual.

Beth stilled, then turned, searching her face.

“You’re acting like we’re going on a first date.”

Viv shrugged. “You always get dolled up for me. Figured I’d match the energy.”

Beth smiled at her, suspicious but soft. “You’re very sappy today. I like it. Weird, but I like it.”

Viv offered her hand. “Shall we?”

⸻

6:17 p.m. – The Pub Garden

It was still light when they arrived. Beth furrowed her brow as they approached the gate of The Fallow Green, a cozy, countryside-style pub tucked on the edge of town.

“The Fallow? We haven’t been here in years.”

Viv said nothing — just gently steered her toward the back garden.

And that’s when Beth stopped short.

The garden was empty — except for them — but dressed in soft, hanging fairy lights and rustic lanterns. A small round table had been set under the big oak tree, already set for two, flickering with gentle candlelight.

Beth’s eyes widened.

“What the—Viv…”

Viv took her hand and smiled.

“You said once you loved this garden. That it looked like something from a movie. So… I rented it.”

“You rented the garden?!”

Viv gave a tiny shrug. “Only for a couple hours.”

Beth turned slowly, taking it all in. “You’ve been planning this?”

Viv’s heart thundered. “Yeah.”

The table, the lights, the playlist humming faintly from a speaker nearby — all of it had been prepped with Jill’s help. And now, finally, it was just them.

Beth turned back toward her. “This is… really romantic.”

Viv smiled.

And then, before Beth could say anything else — before Viv lost her nerve — she dropped to one knee.

Beth gasped.

Viv pulled the ring box from her pocket, voice already catching.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this all day. Every version sounded cheesy or rehearsed,” she began, fumbling the box open. “But the truth is… I knew I wanted to marry you the first time you shouted at the telly and then offered me half your sandwich like nothing happened.”

Beth let out a watery laugh, one hand covering her mouth.

“You make everything better,” Viv continued. “Even the boring bits. Especially the boring bits. I want a million Saturdays with you. And all the rants. And all the dog toys. And all the burnt toast mornings. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

She held out the ring.

“So, Beth Mead… will you marry me?”

Beth blinked fast, eyes filling.

“You idiot,” she whispered. “Of course I will.”

Viv exhaled. Laughing, crying, shaking — she stood up just in time for Beth to throw her arms around her.

They stayed like that under the fairy lights, not caring that dinner was probably getting cold, or that Myle was at home probably eating a cushion.

Beth pulled back and stared down at the ring now on her hand. “You even got the right size. Who are you?”

Viv grinned. “A genius. A genius in love.”

Beth laughed. “God help us both.”

And then she kissed her — soft, smiling, utterly overwhelmed — in the pub garden she once loved, on the day she thought was just another Saturday.

Chapter Text

Vivianne had always prided herself on being steady.

On the pitch, she was composed. Strategic. She didn’t lose her head in front of goal. In interviews, she was direct and calm. Off the pitch, even more so. She wasn’t one for grand speeches or romantic monologues.

But now? Now she was engaged to Beth Mead.

And she couldn’t stop looking at her like she was a bloody sunrise.

They were sitting on the sofa, a week after the proposal — feet tangled under a fleece blanket, Myle curled up on Viv’s shins like a hot, snoring paperweight. Some reality show Beth had insisted was “mindless and necessary” flickered on the screen.

Viv wasn’t watching it. She was watching Beth.

Beth, wearing Viv’s jumper again — the one that still had a paint smudge on the sleeve from their ill-fated DIY weekend. Beth, who was flicking absently at her phone with one hand and cradling a cup of tea in the other. Beth, who occasionally glanced at the telly and made faces like she could feel the drama before it happened.

Her ring — Viv’s ring — caught the lamplight every time she shifted.

And Viv just… stared.

It had been a week.

A whole seven days since she got down on one knee in the fairy-lit garden of the pub Beth loved, stumbled through a speech about cinnamon rolls and how Beth made even traffic seem romantic, and asked her to marry her.

And Beth said yes.

She hadn’t stopped smiling since.

“What?” Beth asked suddenly, her tone teasing.

Viv blinked. “Hmm?”

“You’re staring.”

“No I’m not,” Viv lied, poorly.

Beth grinned, turning her body slightly. “You do this at least once a day now. Just go all soft in the face like you’re planning a Hallmark movie. Am I supposed to be flattered or concerned?”

Viv chuckled, shifting to nudge Myle off her legs and stretch out a little closer. “I’m not soft in the face.”

“You are. It’s sappy. It’s adorable. It’s alarming.”

Viv let her fingers trail down Beth’s arm. “I just… keep waiting for it to feel normal, you know?”

Beth raised an eyebrow. “What, me saying yes?”

Viv nodded. “Yeah. Like… I knew you’d say yes. I hoped you would. But every time I look at you now, and I see the ring, or you say something like ‘our wedding’ or ‘my fiancée’—my brain short circuits a bit.”

Beth paused. Then quietly: “In a bad way?”

Viv shook her head. “In a how-did-I-get-this-lucky way.”

Beth looked away, biting her lip.

Viv smiled and leaned forward, pressing a slow kiss to her cheek — not rushed, not teasing. Just gentle. Deliberate.

Beth sighed, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “You’re gonna make me cry again.”

“That’s alright.”

“No it’s not. I cry at everything lately. You opened a jar for me the other day and I got emotional.”

Viv laughed and tucked a piece of Beth’s hair behind her ear. “I love you.”

“You’d better,” Beth muttered. “You proposed to me in front of fairy lights. There’s no going back.”

Viv rested her forehead against Beth’s. “That feeling… it hasn’t gone away. And I don’t think it ever will.”

Beth opened her eyes, soft and wide. “Good.”

They stayed like that a while — forehead to forehead, reality TV forgotten, Myle’s tail thudding occasionally as if to remind them she was still the centre of attention.

Eventually, Beth mumbled, “Is this what being fiancées is like? Just… you getting gooey-eyed and me crying over jars?”

Viv smirked. “Pretty much.”

Beth bumped her shoulder. “Can’t wait to see what married life looks like.”

“More jars. Bigger feelings.”

“And a fancier surname.”

Viv pulled back, mock-gasping. “You’re taking mine?”

Beth winked. “We’ll see.”

They laughed, kissed again, and melted back into the sofa — two hearts, one blanket, and a love that still felt brand new.

Even after all this time.

Chapter Text

The hum of the dishwasher was the only sound in the flat, save for the faint rustle of pages from the magazine Beth had flipped through absentmindedly and the occasional tick-tick of Viv’s phone as her fingers tapped across the screen. It was the kind of quiet that didn’t feel empty — the kind of quiet that had settled comfortably into their evenings since the proposal.

They hadn’t made any wedding decisions yet. No venues booked. No dates picked. No dress talk, no seating charts, no menus.

But they didn’t need any of that to feel engaged. They already were — heart-deep, rooted, easy.

Beth had taken a long shower, longer than usual. The kind that wasn’t about cleaning but about trying to shake off a heavy feeling she couldn’t name. A mix of lingering tiredness from a frustrating week and that odd post-adrenaline dip that sometimes followed even the good moments. Like happiness had caught her off guard and now left her slightly out of step.

She padded back into the living room barefoot, wearing Viv’s hoodie — soft, oversized, and worn down at the cuffs. It still smelled faintly of her shampoo. She didn’t know if Viv had noticed her mood tonight. Maybe. Probably. Viv always noticed more than she let on.

Viv was curled up on the sofa in her usual spot, legs folded under her, one arm propped along the back cushion. Her phone was in her hand, thumb flicking across the screen slowly. Not urgently. Just passing time.

Beth paused at the doorway, eyes resting on her fiancée — her fiancée, still a novelty in her mind — and something warm and tugging unspooled in her chest.

There wasn’t a dramatic reason for what she did next.

No tension. No emotion boiling over.

Just a quiet need. To be close. To be anchored.

So, without a word, Beth walked over and gently crawled onto Viv’s lap, laying herself out like it was second nature — head tucked under her chin, arms wrapped around her waist, legs stretching across the couch cushions.

Viv didn’t flinch. Didn’t tease. Didn’t even look surprised.

She simply shifted slightly to make room, sliding her phone onto the coffee table, her free arm wrapping easily around Beth’s shoulders as if she’d been expecting this exact thing to happen all along.

“Hi,” she murmured softly, her voice low, brushing across Beth’s hair.

“Hi,” Beth said, voice muffled by the fabric of Viv’s hoodie. “Don’t mind me.”

“I never do.”

Beth smiled at that.

Viv’s hand began tracing light circles between her shoulder blades, a rhythmic, grounding motion that sent shivers down Beth’s spine in the gentlest way.

“You alright?” Viv asked after a moment.

“Yeah,” Beth murmured. “Just didn’t want to be far from you.”

Viv kissed the crown of her head — a slow, deliberate press of lips that said more than words could manage.

Beth shifted slightly, adjusting her weight and settling in even deeper, her cheek now resting on Viv’s chest. She could hear her heartbeat — steady, calm. A sound that had become synonymous with home.

She let out a soft breath. “You’re warm.”

“You’re clingy,” Viv replied with no heat.

“You love it.”

“I really do.”

They stayed like that, cocooned in the soft lighting of the flat, the quiet hum of evening holding them in place. The kind of silence you didn’t rush to fill.

After a few minutes, Beth tilted her head up to look at Viv. “Do you ever just… stop and realise how weirdly perfect this is?”

Viv blinked, bemused. “Me being crushed by my soon-to-be wife on the sofa?”

Beth rolled her eyes. “No, idiot. This. Us. This life.”

Viv looked at her then — properly looked at her — and her whole face softened. “All the time.”

Beth reached for Viv’s hand and played with her fingers lazily. “Sometimes I get scared I’ll wake up and none of it will be real.”

Viv’s brows pinched slightly. “You still feel that way?”

“Not in a bad way. Just… sometimes it feels too good. Like I’m gonna blink and be back in my old flat, and you’ll just be someone I write about instead of come home to.”

Viv’s thumb brushed gently over the back of Beth’s hand. “You’re not dreaming.”

“I know.”

“But if you are,” Viv added lightly, “I hope I’m a recurring character.”

Beth snorted, burying her face back in Viv’s hoodie. “You’d better be. You’re the main one.”

Viv rested her chin lightly on Beth’s head and held her tighter.

They lapsed into silence again. The dishwasher clicked off in the distance. Myle let out a low, dramatic sigh from her dog bed like she was vaguely annoyed they weren’t giving her attention.

Beth’s voice came a moment later, softer now. “Do you ever think about the fact that, like… this could be the rest of our lives?”

Viv’s reply was quiet but certain. “Yeah.”

“And you’re not freaked out?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Viv smiled faintly. “Because I think I fell in love with the idea of growing old with you a long time ago.”

Beth stilled, then slowly tilted her head up, eyes wide.

“That was disgustingly romantic.”

“I know,” Viv said smugly.

Beth laughed, her cheeks pink now. “Say something rude, quick. I can’t handle this tone shift.”

Viv tapped her chin. “Alright. You’re hogging the blanket. And your hair’s still damp and it’s soaking through my hoodie.”

“There she is.”

Viv grinned.

Beth leaned up and kissed her — a quick, light thing. Then another. Then one more for good measure.

And when she settled back down against her chest, with their hands still intertwined and her whole body draped across Viv like she belonged nowhere else, Viv smiled again.

That feeling hadn’t gone away.

It hadn’t dulled. Hadn’t faded. If anything, it had grown sharper — more rooted, more real.

Every glance, every touch, every ridiculous laugh and domestic moment only made her more sure.

Beth Mead was her person. Her home. Her future.

And right now — wrapped up in her arms, sleepy and warm and wrapped in a hoodie three sizes too big — she was exactly where she belonged.

Chapter Text

Rain whispered against the windows like a lullaby, but there was nothing restful about the living room. Papers were spread across the rug like a small explosion had gone off: seating charts, florist quotes, menus, fabric samples, sticky notes, and a terrifying spreadsheet on Beth’s open laptop.

Beth sat in the middle of it all, her legs crossed under her and her glasses pushed slightly askew, a pen tapping rhythmically against her clipboard. Her brow was furrowed. Deeply. The kind of frown that only happened when she was trying really hard not to cry or throw a cushion across the room.

Viv, for her part, was half-sitting, half-sliding off the sofa, balancing her phone on her stomach, scrolling through a Dutch sports site with mild interest. She’d lasted, generously, maybe ten minutes before her attention span had leapt out the window.

“Viv,” Beth said flatly, not looking up. “What’s the difference between the plum and aubergine colour options for the bridesmaid dresses?”

Viv looked up like she’d just been asked to solve a maths equation. “Aren’t they both… purple?”

Beth didn’t answer.

Viv blinked. “One’s more… eggplant-y?”

Beth pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s the same thing.”

“Oh.”

A long pause stretched out between them. The only sound was Beth flipping another page in her planning binder with slightly more force than necessary.

Viv pushed herself upright and leaned forward. “Okay, look, I know I haven’t exactly been Miss Organised with this stuff—”

“Viv, I just spent the last hour sorting through three different catering packages and four DJ options and I don’t even know if we want a DJ!” Beth snapped, finally looking up. “You said you’d help. You said we’d do this together.”

Viv froze. The weight of Beth’s frustration settled on her chest like a lead vest. She reached to pause her phone and quietly set it aside.

“I’m sorry,” she said, voice soft. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you’re on your own with all this.”

Beth looked back at the binder, her shoulders tense, like she was holding in more than just stress. “It’s not even that I expect you to suddenly become a wedding guru,” she muttered. “I just… I want to feel like you care.”

Viv slid off the couch and sat beside her on the rug, their knees touching. “I do care. So much. I’m just… really crap at this kind of thing.”

Beth gave her a sideways glance, eyes still guarded. “Then why say you’d help plan it?”

“Because I thought it’d be fun, and I wanted to be part of it. But instead I’ve basically been a glorified distraction while you do all the work.” She nudged Beth’s knee gently with her own. “Which is not very romantic of me.”

Beth sighed, the edge of her frustration softening. “You’re not a distraction.”

“I am,” Viv said with a faint grin. “But I can be a useful distraction. From now on, I’ll try harder. I’ll be wedding planner Viv. I’ll start googling mood boards. I’ll learn what a boutonnière is.”

Beth gave her a look. “Please don’t say boutonnière again.”

“Boutonnière,” Viv repeated slowly, in her best French accent.

Beth bit her lip, trying not to smile, and failed. “You’re the worst.”

Viv leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Beth’s cheek. “Your worst.”

Beth let out a laugh that sounded more like a sigh of relief. “Fine. You’re back on the planning committee. But if you suggest a cake shaped like a football again—”

“Okay, hear me out,” Viv said suddenly, eyes lighting up. “It’s tiered, right? But each tier is a different ball from a different tournament I’ve played in—”

Beth groaned and buried her face in her hands. “Vivianne.”

“No? Not romantic enough?”

Beth looked up, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “It’s the opposite of romantic.”

Viv chuckled and wrapped an arm around her. “Alright, scrap the football cake. What if… instead of place cards, we have tiny dog figurines holding everyone’s names in their mouths?”

Beth stared at her.

Viv gave her the most innocent smile she could muster.

“You are so lucky you’re pretty,” Beth muttered.

Viv kissed the top of her head. “I know.”

There was a pause. Beth leaned her weight slightly against Viv’s shoulder and let her eyes close for a second.

“I do want it to be nice,” she murmured. “Not massive or perfect. Just… us. Warm. Fun.”

Viv nodded. “And it will be. I promise.”

Beth looked up. “Even if we get married next to a cake shaped like a football?”

Viv smirked. “Especially then.”

Beth rolled her eyes and handed her the catering options. “Fine. If you’re really helping, pick one of these menus. And no, you can’t just choose the one with mini hot dogs.”

Viv was already flipping through the pages, looking entirely too excited about it. “I make no promises.”

Beth just shook her head and leaned into her fiancée a little more. She was still tired, still overwhelmed—but suddenly, it didn’t feel quite so heavy anymore.

Chapter Text

Beth stumbled through the front door just as the sun was nudging its way through the curtains, looking like she’d been hit by a glitter-covered truck. Her hair was a chaotic halo of curls and stray sequins, her makeup smudged like a watercolor painting left out in the rain. She blinked against the bright living room light and groaned.

Viv, perched on the sofa in comfy joggers with a mug of tea, looked up and grinned. “Well, if it isn’t the Queen of the Hen Do Hangover. Rough night?”

Beth flopped down beside her, clutching a bottle of water like a lifeline. “Rough is putting it mildly. I think I danced through at least four decades of music, hugged more strangers than I can count, and—oh god—I might have declared my love for a traffic cone.”

Viv laughed, pulling Beth into a gentle hug. “Classic Beth.”

Beth shuddered. “Wait, wait, wait… I think there were videos. Someone filmed everything.”

Viv’s eyes sparkled. “Show me.”

Beth handed over her phone with a resigned sigh, and soon they were scrolling through a parade of moments that ranged from “adorably disastrous” to “please delete immediately.”

There was one of Beth attempting a complicated dance move that ended with her accidentally knocking over a punch bowl.

Another showed her trying to sing along to a song—off-key and off-beat, naturally—while waving a glow stick like a microphone.

Then, Viv burst out laughing at a video where Beth was mid-rant, passionately explaining to her friends why Viv was “the best human on the planet,” completely earnest and slurring slightly.

Beth’s face flushed as she watched herself say, “She’s so smart and funny and her nose does this cute scrunch thing when she’s concentrating, and I just want to marry her already.”

Viv shook her head, grinning ear to ear. “If only you said stuff like that to my face”

Beth tried to swat the phone away, but Viv held it closer. “One more video, then I promise.”

The next clip was Beth attempting to start a conga line in a kebab shop, cheerfully oblivious to the confused stares of other patrons.

Beth groaned, burying her face in Viv’s jumper. “Delete all of these. Please.”

Viv kissed her temple. “Never. These are gold.”

⸻

Later that week, very much late in the evening, Beth’s phone buzzed with a text from Viv. It was one of those messages where the spelling seemed to have given up halfway through.

“BETH I AM AT A STRIP CLAB JILL IS FORCEING ME TO DANCE I AM MISSING YOU SOOOOO MUCH PLZ CALL ME I LOVE YOU YOU ARE MY SOULMATE”

Beth chuckled aloud, nearly dropping her tea. She typed back:

“Oh no. What have they done to you?”

A minute later, another message appeared:

“I LOVE YOU I KISSD A SLICE OF PIZA THINKING IT WAS YOU I AM NOT DRUNCK OK MAYBE A LITTLE BUT I LOVE YOU SO MUCH”

Beth laughed until tears pricked her eyes, then called Viv.

“Hey, you,” she said softly when Viv answered.

“BETH!” Viv’s voice was exuberant, if slightly breathless. “I am having the weirdest night! Someone put glitter in my hair annnnnd I got forced to receive a lap dance- I hate it but I wouldn’t mind if it was you- and Jill just convinced me to try something called a ‘marriage meltdown’ shot.”

Beth smiled. “That sounds… ominous.”

Viv giggled. “It’s just tequila. But I keep thinking about you. Like, all the time. You’re my best thing. Even better than pizza, and you know how much I love pizza.”

Beth’s heart squeezed. “I love you too, Viv.”

“Promise me one thing?”

“Anything.”

“Don’t laugh when I say I miss your nose scrunch.”

Beth laughed, kisses already filling the space between her words. “Never.”

⸻

The next morning, Viv came home, sunglasses indoors and a sheepish grin, holding a bag of greasy takeout like a trophy.

Beth waved her phone at her. “I’ve got proof you’re a lovable mess.”

Viv rolled her eyes but kissed Beth anyway. “Worth it.”

Beth smiled into the kiss, already thinking about forever.

Chapter Text

Beth was sprawled across their bed, wedding notes and scribbled to-do lists fanned out around her like a paper explosion. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail, and her pen was tapping an agitated rhythm against her notebook.

Viv stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching with a mix of admiration and quiet concern.

“You know,” Viv said, strolling in with her usual slow swagger, “I think if you write one more list, the wedding might plan itself out of fear.”

Beth gave her a look but didn’t stop writing. “It’s called being organised. You should try it sometime.”

“I did try it once. Gave me hives.”

Viv flopped down beside her, careful not to crush any of the notes. She peeked at the one titled ‘Reception Timeline: Emergency Edition’.

“What’s this one for?” she asked, pointing.

“In case the band doesn’t show. Or it rains. Or someone’s dress catches on fire.”

Viv blinked. “We’re planning for combustion now?”

Beth ignored her, flipping to a fresh page. “Anyway. Last thing for tonight—our hotel room. I confirmed the suite at the one with the view of the river. Huge bed. Fireplaces. So you can carry me through the door, obviously.”

Viv paused. “Wait. What?”

“You know. Tradition,” Beth said, not looking up. “You carry me over the threshold. Newlyweds. Romance. All that.”

Viv tilted her head. “You realise the dress options you’ve showed me all look extremely heavy, right?”

Beth slowly looked up, already suspicious. “Viv.”

Viv smirked. “Look, it’s not that I won’t—actually no, that’s exactly what I’m saying. I will not be lugging you into a room like a sack of potatoes in heels and tulle.”

Beth gasped, full mock betrayal. “Wow. Four years of love. A lifetime of commitment. And you won’t even carry me through a doorway?”

“You’re the one who picked a hotel with a double-height staircase and glass doors. That’s a trip hazard.”

Beth dropped her pen with a sigh, dramatically flopping backwards on the bed. “So that’s it then. She doesn’t love me.”

Viv leaned over her, resting on one elbow. “Not true. I love you deeply.”

Beth closed her eyes. “Just not enough to carry me.”

“I love you enough to catch you when you fall through the doorway yourself,” Viv offered helpfully, pressing a gentle kiss to Beth’s cheek.

Beth stayed quiet.

Viv tried again—one kiss to her jaw, one to her temple, and then leaned in with a whisper, “And I love you enough to make excellent use of that massive bed.”

Beth blinked up at her.

Viv grinned. “Like… showing you what it’s like to have sex with me when you’re my wife. Aka leaving you having to try and walk straight in front of your family the next morning. What were you thinking?”

Beth narrowed her eyes and flushed. “You’re the worst.”

“But you love me,” Viv said, sing-song, kissing her nose now.

Beth gave the smallest smile. “Unfortunately.”

Viv rolled onto her back beside her, grabbing a rogue sticky note. “So if I suggest a reception entrance where we both wear tuxes and walk in to the James Bond theme, are you going to say no?”

Beth looked at her flatly. “Absolutely yes.”

“Thought so.”

And yet, Beth didn’t move away when Viv reached for her hand, just let their fingers tangle on top of the pages of plans and timelines. The room was quiet for a moment.

“Fine,” Beth muttered. “You don’t have to carry me.”

Viv smiled, satisfied.

“But I am telling our future kids you refused.”

Viv laughed. “Deal.”

And in that room full of scraps of paper and wedding chaos, they both knew none of it really mattered — not the doorway, not the traditions, not even the timelines. Just them. Always.

Chapter Text

The bar was loud — bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, music thudding through the walls, the neon glow behind the counter casting shadows across sweaty faces. Manchester’s nightlife always came alive in bursts, and tonight was no exception.

Viv stood in the corner of the booth with her Man City teammates, half-listening to Alanna talk about pre-season fitness tests. She had a drink in hand, wore a loose button-down rolled up to her forearms, her dark eyes flickering around the bar every few minutes like clockwork.

She wasn’t good at relaxing — not really — but Beth had nudged her out for the night with the promise of a few hours of normality. “Let your hair down, come out. We’ll just have fun,” she’d said.

And for a while, it had been exactly that. Beth tucked into her side, laughing easily, glowing in the way she always did when she was surrounded by people she loved. But then she’d stood up, casually dropping a kiss to Viv’s cheek, and said, “I’ll grab this round, you sit down.”

Viv had let her go — with a warning glance as Beth walked toward the bar. Not that Beth needed protection. But still.

It took three minutes before Viv noticed the man.

He was already standing too close. At first, she thought maybe he was just leaning across to grab a drink — but then he turned to face Beth directly. Tall, thick arms, buzz cut, rugby lad type. Something about the way he smiled set Viv’s gut on edge.

Beth tilted her head back, clearly trying to give herself space. Her arms folded protectively across her chest.

Viv set her drink down. Her jaw twitched.

The man leaned in again — too close — and Beth shook her head, visibly saying no. He said something that made her frown and take a step back.

Viv didn’t even speak — she was already out of her seat, weaving through the crowd.

Then he reached out — grabbed Beth’s arm, rough and impatient, jerking her toward him with a grip that made her stumble slightly into the bar.

Beth gasped — “Oi! Let go of me—”

And Viv was there.

She shoved herself between them, both hands flat on the man’s chest, pushing him back hard enough that he nearly fell over a stool.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Viv shouted, fury blistering in her voice. Heads turned. The music kept playing, but the air around them froze.

The guy blinked, stunned. “What’s your problem?”

Viv’s face twisted with rage. “You grabbed her. You put your fucking hands on my fiancée. That’s my problem!”

“She was being dramatic—”

“She said no. And you laid hands on her.” Viv’s accent thickened with fury, every word spat like venom. “You think that’s a joke? You think women at bars are yours to handle like that? And even worse my fiancee!”

Beth was beside her now, rubbing at her arm. “Viv, it’s okay—”

“No,” Viv snapped, not taking her eyes off the guy. “It’s not okay. You need to back the fuck away from her before I knock you’re fucking teeth out your hear me”

The man raised his hands, smirking now. “Alright, alright. Didn’t realise she had a bodyguard.”

Viv stepped forward again, and for a terrifying moment Beth thought she might hit him. “Get out of here before I make sure you’re thrown out and banned from this place. You touch her again and I swear to god—”

The man smirked “What you gonna do about it, you’re nothing but a filthy-“

Viv moved forward shoving the man again and shouting something in Dutch.

“Viv!” Beth grabbed her, tugging her back. “It’s over. He’s leaving.”

The guy backed off finally, muttering something under his breath before disappearing into the crowd. A bouncer had started moving toward the commotion, but by the time he arrived, the man was gone.

Viv was still breathing hard, fists clenched at her sides.

Beth turned to her slowly. “I’m okay. I’m—he just grabbed me too hard. I didn’t expect it.”

Viv’s eyes dropped to Beth’s arm, where faint red marks were starting to bloom. Her heart dropped.

“He hurt you.”

“Not really. Just startled me.”

Viv looked her in the eye. “I should’ve come sooner- fuck- baby your wrist..my love-“

Beth stepped forward, placed both hands on Viv’s chest. “You came exactly when I needed you.”

Viv’s breathing slowed. Her hands came up to cup Beth’s face, thumbs brushing along her cheeks. “You don’t get to be scared. Not when I’m here.”

Beth gave a wobbly smile. “You were very scary, babe.”

Viv didn’t smile back. “He touched you. I could kill him. I will kill him the-”

Beth leaned in and kissed her softly. “But you didn’t. That’s the bit I love.”

⸻

Back at the table, Viv was stone silent, one arm wrapped tightly around Beth, her jaw still set like concrete.

Alanna raised her eyebrows. “Everything okay?”

“Some prick grabbed Beth at the bar,” Viv muttered flatly.

Laia’s expression darkened. “What?!”

Beth spoke before Viv could snap again. “It’s handled. Viv nearly broke the guy in half.”

Esme whistled lowly. “Glad I wasn’t him.”

Viv didn’t joke. Her hand tightened on Beth’s hip.

“Hey,” Beth whispered, leaning toward her. “I’m alright. We’re okay. Look at me.”

Viv did — reluctantly.

“You protected me. Like always. And now I just want to have a drink with my fiancée. Can we do that?”

Viv studied her, and then nodded — slowly. She leaned forward and kissed Beth’s forehead. “No one touches you. Ever.”

Beth grinned gently. “I know. Because you’d probably kill them.”

Viv just hummed. “Not probably.”

⸻

That night, when they got home, Viv couldn’t let go.

She followed Beth around the flat like a shadow — helping her out of her jacket, brushing her hair over one shoulder, trailing her fingers along her arm.

“Viv,” Beth said gently, as they got into bed, “I’m okay. You can stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying,” Viv said, pulling her into her chest.

“You are.”

Viv was quiet a moment. Then:

“I saw the look on your face when he grabbed you. You don’t ever have to look like that. Not when I’m around.”

Beth buried her face in Viv’s chest. “You love me so much it makes you scary.”

Viv snorted quietly, stroking Beth’s back. “Maybe. But no one scares me more than you.”

Beth looked up, amused. “Me? Why?”

Viv kissed her nose. “Because if anything ever happened to you…I’d burn the world down.”

Beth’s voice softened. “I love you.”

“Say it again.”

Beth smiled. “I love you.”

Viv held her tighter, and for the first time that night, she exhaled.

Chapter Text

The flat felt too still. The kind of stillness that didn’t belong in their home — where usually there was a low hum of chatter, the TV playing in the background, or Myle’s paws tapping against the floor as she followed Beth around.

But right now, Myle was curled up in her bed, glancing between the two humans like she could feel the storm clouds lingering.

Viv stood just inside the living room doorway, arms crossed, watching Beth. She was curled in the corner of the sofa, hood pulled up over her head, phone in hand. She wasn’t scrolling like she usually did — absent-minded and relaxed — she was scrolling pointedly. Like the goal wasn’t to read anything, but to not look at Viv.

Viv sighed quietly, stepped forward, then paused again. Apologising wasn’t her favourite thing, mostly because she hated the idea that she’d upset Beth at all. She replayed their stupid argument from earlier in her head — something about Viv forgetting to pick up bread and then making a sarcastic comment — and groaned at herself.

“Hey,” she started softly.

Beth didn’t look up. “Hey.”

Viv stuffed her hands into the pocket of her hoodie. “I’m sorry.”

Beth nodded once without lifting her eyes from the phone. “Okay.”

Not exactly the warm welcome Viv had hoped for.

She came closer, lowering herself so she was crouching by the sofa, head tilted to catch Beth’s gaze. “I mean it, B. I was being… well, me. And not in a good way.”

Beth finally glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah. You were.”

Viv almost smiled. “Fair. But I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.”

“Then maybe don’t wind me up,” Beth muttered, looking back at her phone.

Viv leaned her elbows on the sofa cushion beside Beth’s legs. “But then what would you do with all your spare energy if you weren’t rolling your eyes at me?”

Beth didn’t answer, but the tiniest twitch at the corner of her mouth gave her away.

Viv spotted it instantly. “There it is. That’s nearly a smile.”

“No, it’s not,” Beth said, her voice flat but her cheeks slightly pink.

Viv decided subtlety was overrated. She stood, slid onto the sofa beside Beth, and without warning wrapped her arms tightly around her waist.

Beth froze. Her arms hung awkwardly over Viv’s shoulders, limp and unmoving.

Viv leaned back just enough to frown up at her. “This is not a hug.”

Beth blinked. “I’m hugging you.”

“You’re hovering your arms over me. That’s not the same thing.” Viv shifted and tightened her hold. “This is a hug. What you’re doing is… mannequin arms.”

Beth tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Maybe I’m just not feeling very huggy.”

“That’s not a thing,” Viv said firmly. “You’re my fiancée. Hug rights are permanent. No blackout dates. No exceptions.”

That got a tiny huff of a laugh, though Beth tried to smother it.

“Ah,” Viv said, grinning now. “She’s cracking.”

“I’m not cracking.”

Viv kissed her cheek. “You are.”

Beth’s arms stayed still. Viv kissed the other cheek. “A little bit more.”

Beth sighed dramatically. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me,” Viv replied without hesitation. She shifted, resting her chin on Beth’s shoulder. “Also, I’m way too comfortable now to move until you hug me back.”

Beth gave her a sideways look. “What if I just never do?”

“Then we’ll both starve to death here,” Viv said matter-of-factly.

Beth tried not to laugh, but this time it broke through — a quiet giggle she quickly covered with a shake of her head.

Viv grinned in triumph and pressed another quick kiss to her cheek. “There’s my girl.”

Finally, Beth’s arms slid properly around Viv, holding her close.

“Happy now?” Beth muttered.

“Ecstatic,” Viv said, hugging her tighter. “And for the record, I was wrong about the bread thing. You were right. You’re always right.”

Beth smirked faintly. “Oh, now we’re getting somewhere.”

They stayed like that for a long while, Myle hopping up to curl into Beth’s lap, pressing her head between them like she was sealing the truce.

Viv quietly kissed Beth’s temple. “I hate fighting with you.”

Beth exhaled, resting her cheek against Viv’s hair. “Then stop being an idiot.”

Viv chuckled. “No promises. But I’ll try harder.”

Beth gave a soft hum, still pretending to be annoyed, but Viv could feel the way her fingers were tracing absent patterns along her back.

By the time the TV was on and they were sitting side-by-side, Beth leaning into Viv like nothing had happened, the argument had dissolved into the background — replaced with that same old comfort that always, always won out.

Chapter Text

By Monday morning, the week before the wedding, Viv had already accepted one undeniable fact — Beth Mead was going to burn through more nervous energy than an entire Champions League final.

It started at breakfast.

Viv had just sat down with her coffee when Beth breezed in, hair up in a messy bun, wearing Viv’s hoodie and holding three separate lists in one hand. She didn’t so much sit down as hover, tapping a pen against her palm like a ticking clock.

“Viv,” Beth began, “do we know for certain that the florist understands the theme?”

Viv took a slow sip of coffee. “Yes.”

“Not ‘yes’ as in ‘you think so,’” Beth pressed, “but ‘yes’ as in ‘you’ve triple-checked with photographic evidence’?”

Viv put her mug down. “B, you spoke to them yourself.”

Beth didn’t look convinced. “But maybe they thought I meant blush pink when I said dusty rose.”

Viv squinted. “Is there… a difference?”

Beth’s gasp was loud enough to make Myle, sprawled on her dog bed, lift her head in concern. “Of course there’s a difference! Dusty rose is more muted, blush pink is brighter. Viv, the table runners are dusty rose. If the flowers don’t match, it’ll clash.”

Viv reached for her coffee again. “We’re not going to divorce over table runners.”

Beth shot her a glare, then began rifling through the lists again. “I still need to call the caterer. And the photographer. And check with the band that they know our first dance song.”

“They do,” Viv said automatically.

Beth’s head whipped around. “How do you know?”

“Because you made me stand in the kitchen and listen to it six times on Friday,” Viv deadpanned.

Beth muttered something under her breath and started pacing. Viv watched her trace a loop from the table to the fridge to the sink, over and over, like she was wearing a hole in the laminate.

“B,” Viv tried, “come sit down.”

“I can’t sit down.” Beth’s voice was tight. “If I sit down, I’ll think of something else we’ve forgotten, and then I’ll have to get up again.”

Viv pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s… not how sitting works.”

Beth ignored her, pulling out her phone. “I’m just going to text your mum to remind her about—”

Viv got up and gently plucked the phone from her hand. “Nope. Phone down.”

“Viv!” Beth protested, reaching for it.

Viv held it out of reach. “You are going to take a break before you give yourself a stress-induced nosebleed.”

Beth planted her hands on her hips. “Do you even care if this wedding falls apart?”

Viv blinked at her. “Yes. I care very much about marrying you. The rest is just… extra.”

“Extra?” Beth repeated like Viv had just insulted her entire family.

“Yes. Nice extra. Pretty extra. But still extra.”

Beth’s mouth opened, but Viv stepped forward, hands finding her shoulders. “Look. The flowers will be fine. The cake will be fine. If your Aunt Cheryl tries to start World War III with Aunt Lisa, I’ll distract them with free prosecco.”

Beth tried to hold her frown, but her lips twitched. “That would probably work.”

Viv grinned. “See? Solved.”

Beth slumped a little. “I just… I want it to be perfect, Viv.”

Viv’s voice softened. “It will be. Because you’ll be there. And I’ll be there. And that’s literally the only part I’ve ever cared about.”

Beth’s eyes flicked away, her cheeks pinking. “You’re being disgustingly soppy.”

“Dangerously so,” Viv agreed. “Now come on, sit with me before you start alphabetising the confetti.”

Beth huffed, but let Viv guide her to the sofa. She sat down, crossed her arms, and muttered something about “still needing to check the cake delivery time.”

Viv dropped beside her, tugging her sideways until she was leaning against her.

Beth didn’t fight it.

“Better?” Viv asked quietly.

Beth mumbled into her shoulder, “A bit.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Myle hopping up to curl in Beth’s lap, pressing her head against Beth’s arm like she was part of the truce.

Viv pressed a kiss to Beth’s temple. “I hate seeing you like this.”

Beth sighed. “Then make the flowers match the table runners.”

Viv chuckled. “You’re impossible.”

Beth finally smiled — small, but real. “And you love me for it.”

Viv gave her a squeeze. “Absolutely.”

Chapter Text

Beth had woken up with the kind of nerves that made her whole body feel light and heavy at the same time.

The guesthouse room smelled faintly of flowers — her bouquet was already sitting on the vanity — and the soft hum of hairdryers and chatter filled the space as her friends moved around her. She was sat in front of the mirror in a silky white robe, bare shoulders catching the light, hair half-pinned.

Anna, one of her bridesmaids, was curling the last strand of hair and caught Beth’s reflection in the glass. “You’re going to chew a hole through your lip if you keep doing that.”

Beth let out a small laugh, the sound a little strained. “Sorry. I’m… fine. Just… stomach feels weird.”

Leah, lounging on the bed, grinned knowingly. “You’re about to marry Viv. You should be nervous.”

Beth tried to glare, but her lips twitched. “She’s probably totally calm, somewhere having a coffee.”

⸻

Viv was not having a coffee.

She was sitting in her own prep room on the other side of the venue, wearing her tailored navy suit with the top button of her shirt undone. Jill was fussing with her tie, shaking her head at how fidgety she was being.

“Honestly, you’d think you were going out to take a penalty in the World Cup final,” Jill teased.

Viv smirked but didn’t deny it. Her knee was bouncing. “It’s just… it’s Beth.”

Jill softened. “She’s going to lose her mind when she sees you.”

Viv rolled her eyes, trying to play it cool — but the truth was, she’d been picturing Beth walking down that aisle for weeks, and now it was about to happen. Her heart was already racing.

⸻

Back in Beth’s room, the dress was waiting. The moment she stepped into it — the fitted lace bodice, the flowing skirt, the way it hugged her just right — the whole room went quiet.

Leah let out a low whistle. “Okay… Viv might faint.”

Beth laughed, shaking her head, but in the mirror, her smile was genuine for the first time that morning.

“Alright,” Anna said, smoothing the veil into place. “Time to get married.”

⸻

The barn had been transformed with fairy lights strung across the beams, flowers climbing the ends of each row. The wooden floor was scattered with petals.

Viv stood at the front, Jill beside her. She kept glancing at the back of the aisle, palms brushing against her trousers to stop herself from fidgeting.

“You’ve got this,” Jill whispered just as the music started.

And then Viv saw her.

Beth stepped into view, her arm hooked through her dad’s, veil framing her face. Viv’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t even try to stop the tears this time — they welled instantly.

Beth’s eyes locked on hers and everything else faded.

When she reached Viv, her dad gave her hand to Viv with a small nod. Viv’s fingers closed around it gently, as though it were the most precious thing she’d ever held.

“You look…” Viv swallowed. “…perfect.”

Beth’s cheeks warmed. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

⸻

The officiant began, and Viv barely heard the words — until it was time for their vows.

Viv unfolded a small piece of paper from her pocket. Her voice was steady at first, but softened as she spoke.

“Beth… from the first time we met, I knew my life was about to change. You’ve been my teammate, my partner, my best friend, and the person I can’t wait to come home to. You make me braver, softer, and happier than I thought I could be. I promise to love you through every season, to protect you, to fight for you, and to never let you forget how extraordinary you are.”

Beth bit her lip, eyes glistening.

She didn’t need a piece of paper. Taking Viv’s hands, she spoke from the heart.

“Viv… you are the safest place I’ve ever known. You’ve been patient when I was stubborn, strong when I was falling apart, and you’ve never stopped showing up for me — even when I didn’t know how to ask. I promise to love you without holding back, to stand beside you in every challenge, and to keep making you laugh for the rest of our lives.”

⸻

The officiant nodded. “And now, the rings.”

Jill stepped forward with a small velvet box, passing one band to Viv. Viv’s hands shook slightly as she took Beth’s left hand.

“This,” Viv said softly, sliding the band onto Beth’s finger, “is just a piece of metal. But it means you’re mine, and I’m yours, forever.”

Beth let out a tiny laugh that was half a sob, taking the other ring from Anna. She slid it onto Viv’s hand, her thumb brushing over Viv’s knuckles.

“This means I get to annoy you forever,” Beth whispered, earning a quiet chuckle from the guests. Then, softer, “And love you forever.”

⸻

The officiant’s voice rang out. “By the power vested in me… you may kiss your bride.”

Beth grinned through her tears. “Finally.”

Viv cupped her face, pulling her in. The kiss was soft at first, then deepened, Beth giggling against her lips. The guests clapped, Jill whooped, and Viv only pulled back far enough to rest her forehead against Beth’s.

“Hi, wife,” Viv murmured.

Beth’s smile lit up her whole face. “Hi, wife.”

⸻

The rest of the day was a blur of speeches, photos, and clinking glasses — but the memory that stayed burned into both of them was that moment with the rings, when it all became real.

They’d promised each other forever. And neither of them had ever meant anything more in their lives.

Chapter Text

The barn had shifted moods since the ceremony.
Where earlier it had been hushed and reverent, all soft strings and the weight of promises, now it buzzed with chatter and the low hum of a live band. Golden fairy lights tangled around beams, flickering against glasses of champagne, and the scent of good food filled the air — especially the miniature burgers that seemed to have developed their own fan club.

Beth was making her way back from a table where her dad had been deep in conversation with Jill, when she spotted her new wife near the far end of the room. Viv had abandoned her suit jacket on a chair, her white shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows, and there was that telltale glint in her eyes.

Beth slowed, narrowing her gaze. She knew that look.

Sure enough, Viv was hovering by a passing caterer, eyes tracking the tray in his hands like a hawk.

“Vivianne Miedema,” Beth called across the space.

Viv froze mid-reach, caught red-handed with her fingers on a tiny brioche bun.

“That your third one?” Beth asked, strolling over with her arms folded.

Viv blinked. “Second…” she said, though it came out like a question.

Beth raised her brows. “You said that ten minutes ago.”

Viv had the audacity to grin, shrugging one shoulder. “They’re really good.”

“They’re appetisers, not a personal buffet,” Beth scolded, though her lips were twitching.

Viv popped the burger in her mouth anyway, muffling, “Not my fault the chef’s a genius.”

Beth shook her head and moved past her, but her eyes kept drifting back through the evening — catching Viv chatting with Leah, laughing with Laia, and inevitably gravitating toward another tray of sliders. By the fifth time, Beth muttered to Jill, “I married a bottomless pit.”

⸻

The DJ’s voice crackled over the speakers later that evening. “Alright, folks, can we get our newlyweds to the dance floor for their first dance?”

A ripple of applause followed.

Beth’s stomach gave a nervous little flip as Viv appeared at her side, holding out a hand with a soft smile. “C’mon, Mrs Miedema.”

The way she said it made Beth’s heart skip. She let Viv lead her to the centre of the floor, their guests forming a loose circle around them.

The music began — a slow, steady melody they’d picked together. Viv’s hands slid to Beth’s waist; Beth’s arms looped loosely around her neck.

It was strange — how quiet the space felt in that moment. How the conversations dimmed, the lights blurred, and all Beth could hear was Viv’s breathing and the muted sway of the song.

“You’re staring,” Beth murmured, glancing up.

Viv tilted her head down, lips brushing Beth’s hair. “You’re my wife. I’m allowed to stare.”

Beth bit back a smile. “You’ve cried more than me today.”

“I’ll cry again if you keep looking at me like that.”

They swayed in silence for a few beats, Beth’s cheek resting against Viv’s chest. And then the ache hit her. The familiar, quiet pull in her chest — uninvited but sharp. She’d dreamed about this day as a kid, and her mum had always been there in the daydreams.

Viv felt the shift instantly. Her hands stilled against Beth’s waist, her voice dropping. “Hey. Where’d you just go?”

Beth hesitated. “Just… thinking she should be here. She would’ve loved today.”

Viv’s fingers squeezed gently, thumbs brushing circles over the fabric of Beth’s dress. “I think she is here,” she whispered. “Every laugh you’ve had tonight, every time you’ve looked like the happiest person alive… that’s her.”

Beth swallowed, blinking back the sting in her eyes. “She’d have loved you.”

“I’d have loved her too,” Viv replied simply. “Maybe I do already.”

Beth leaned into her, resting her forehead briefly against Viv’s cheek. Viv kept her close until the song ended, and even then, she didn’t let go right away.

⸻

Dinner blurred into speeches — Jill making everyone laugh with a teasing story about Viv’s inability to load a dishwasher properly, Leah managing to sneak in at least three sarcastic jabs about Beth’s fashion choices, and Beth’s dad speaking simply but warmly, thanking Viv for loving his daughter so fiercely.

Viv squeezed Beth’s hand under the table during that part.

Between courses, Viv kept leaning in with little asides: “This wine’s too posh for me,” and “I’m stealing your dessert if you turn your head,” and “I think the caterer’s starting to hide the burgers from me.”

Beth would roll her eyes every time, but the truth was, the constant murmur of Viv’s voice kept her grounded.

⸻

By the time the cake was cut and the dance floor had filled with their friends, Beth slipped outside for some air. The night was cooler than she expected, the breeze carrying the faint smell of the sea from somewhere beyond the hills.

She leaned against the wooden railing just beyond the barn, letting the sounds of music and laughter spill out behind her. For a moment, she just breathed.

Footsteps followed a minute later, unhurried but familiar.

“Running away already?” Viv’s voice was soft, teasing.

Beth smiled without turning. “Just needed a breather.”

Viv stepped up beside her, hands sliding into her pockets. For a moment, they both stared out into the dark, the glow of the barn behind them painting the grass in gold.

“It’s been a good day,” Viv said finally.

Beth laughed quietly. “You mean besides you inhaling all the mini burgers?”

Viv smirked. “Highlight of the catering. You’re a close second.”

Beth turned her head, bumping her shoulder into Viv’s. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” Viv murmured, leaning in to kiss her temple. “But I’m ridiculously in love with you.”

Beth’s chest warmed. She looked at her for a long moment before speaking. “Thanks… for today. For making it feel… okay. Even when it didn’t.”

Viv’s lips curved into a softer smile. “That’s my job now, isn’t it? Official wife duty.”

Beth huffed a little laugh and reached up, curling her fingers into the fabric of Viv’s shirt to pull her closer. “Best one I could’ve picked.”

They kissed there in the cool night air — slow, unhurried, the noise from the barn muffled by distance — before heading back inside to rejoin their people.

Chapter Text

The first rays of sunlight spilled into the villa, painting the room in soft gold. Beth stirred, letting her fingers trace the warmth of Viv’s arm, only for a low groan to pull a laugh from her lips.

“Five more minutes,” Viv mumbled, burying her face in the pillow.

Beth smirked, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to Viv’s cheek. “You said that thirty minutes ago.”

“I meant five more,” Viv groaned again, stretching lazily, hair falling into her eyes. She squinted at Beth, half amused, half exasperated. “Are you seriously going to just sit there leaning over me like that?”

Beth chuckled, brushing a strand of hair back from Viv’s face. “Maybe. Maybe I like waking up next to you.”

Viv rolled her eyes but didn’t move away. Instead, she hooked an arm around Beth’s waist when she tried to slide out of bed. “If you’re moving, you’re taking me with you,” she said, half teasing, half insisting, dragging Beth back onto the mattress.

“I could get used to this,” Beth murmured, leaning her head against Viv’s chest.

“Good. Because you’re not going anywhere.” Viv pressed a soft kiss to the top of Beth’s head, murmuring, “Not today, not ever.”

By the time they stumbled out to the balcony, the sun was higher, warming the wooden floor beneath their feet. A small breakfast had been set up: fruit, pastries, and steaming coffee. Beth perched on the edge of the table, leaning over to nuzzle Viv, peppering her cheek with kisses.

“Do this after I’ve eaten,” Viv said around a mouthful of croissant, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as Beth laughed against her shoulder.

“Not a chance,” Beth whispered, capturing her lips in a quick, mischievous peck before Viv could protest.

Breakfast stretched lazily, full of teasing touches, playful nudges, and soft laughter. Every time Viv reached for her coffee, Beth’s hand would brush against hers, sparks trailing up Viv’s arm. By the time they finished, Viv’s resolve had completely crumbled, and she let Beth drag her close for another lingering kiss.

The pool was next. Beth, sitting on the edge with her feet dangling in the water, frowned as Viv approached. “I don’t know if I want to get in yet,” she said, glancing at her carefully styled hair.

Viv grinned, an impish glint in her eyes. “Too late.” Before Beth could protest further, Viv scooped her up effortlessly, holding her around the waist. “Quality time,” Viv murmured, kissing Beth’s temple as water splashed around them.

Beth squealed, splashing Viv back, but Viv just laughed, kissing her again, hands firm but gentle on her hips. “Stop being ridiculous,” Viv said with mock sternness. “I promise your hair will survive.”

Beth rolled her eyes, laughing through gasps, but she pressed closer into Viv, savoring the playful intimacy. “You’re impossible,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around Viv’s neck.

Evening came too soon. Beth spent a little longer than necessary getting ready, twisting her hair, carefully choosing her dress. When Viv finally saw her, the reaction was theatrical enough to make Beth burst into laughter.

“Oh my god. Is this what I get every day now that you’re my wife?” Viv exclaimed, flinging her arms out dramatically. “You’re gorgeous, and now I can’t stop staring.”

Beth laughed, swatting her shoulder lightly. “Stop overreacting. It’s just a dress.”

Viv scoffed, crossing her arms but still staring. “Just a dress? This is a Beth dress, and you look… perfect. Absolutely perfect. I might need to propose again just to make sure you stay mine.”

Dinner at the restaurant was soft-lit and romantic, with waves of scent from freshly cooked seafood and exotic spices. Beth frowned at the price on the menu, but Viv slid her chair closer, tilting Beth’s chin up. “Shh, I’ve got this,” she whispered, before leaning in for a quick, possessive kiss that made Beth flush.

They spent the meal laughing, teasing each other over shared bites, and stealing small touches under the table. When Beth mentioned missing her mom, Viv’s hand found hers, squeezing gently. “She’s still with you, in every bit of who you are,” Viv murmured. Beth leaned her head on Viv’s shoulder for a moment, comforted, and whispered, “I know. But I still miss her.”

After dinner, the villa beckoned them back. As soon as they walked in, Viv caught Beth by the waist, lifting her effortlessly over the threshold. Beth squealed and laughed, wrapping her arms around Viv’s neck.

Viv set her down gently, but the playful teasing didn’t stop. She leaned in, hands brushing the lace of Beth’s garter, making Beth erupt in laughter. “Viv! Stop, you’ll ruin it!”

“I might just keep ruining it,” Viv murmured, lips brushing Beth’s ear as she nibbled softly. Beth shivered, half laughing, half groaning. “Careful,” she managed, “people could hear us—”

Viv’s hands tangled in Beth’s hair, pulling her close for a deep, passionate kiss that left Beth gasping. “I don’t care,” Viv whispered between kisses, voice low and urgent. “All I care about is you.”

The night unfolded with the kind of intimacy that left them both breathless — playful touches, whispered confessions, and slow, burning kisses that intertwined with laughter and soft moans. Viv lingered over every inch of Beth, not wanting to miss a moment. Beth responded in kind, reveling in the warmth and safety of Viv’s embrace, letting herself be completely held, completely loved.

Hours later, curled up together under the villa’s soft sheets, the room still glowing from the moonlight spilling through the windows, Viv rested her head against Beth’s shoulder. “I can’t believe we get to do this. Every day, just us,” she murmured.

Beth pressed a kiss to the top of Viv’s head. “Me neither. It feels… perfect.”

Viv’s arms tightened around her, and in that quiet, tangled warmth, they both knew that no matter where the world took them next — on the pitch, across continents, through challenges and victories — they had this. This love, this closeness, this playful passion and tender devotion that would carry them through everything.

And for now, that was more than enough.

Chapter Text

The slam of the front door made the picture frames on the hallway wall rattle. Viv winced from the kitchen, setting down the glass she was rinsing. She didn’t even have to turn around to know Beth’s day had gone badly.

Beth came in like a storm, laptop bag tossed carelessly onto the chair, coat half falling from her shoulders. “I can’t— I just can’t believe this!” she muttered, shoving her shoes off and not bothering to line them up. “Everything—everything—went wrong today.”

Viv stayed where she was, drying her hands on a towel. “Want to talk about it?” she asked gently.

Beth let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, sure. Let’s talk about how I worked my arse off and still got chewed out in front of everyone. Let’s talk about how my boss thinks I’m incapable of handling basic projects. Let’s talk about how I came home hoping maybe—just maybe—you’d be here to take my mind off it, and instead you’re just…” She gestured vaguely at Viv. “…just standing there like you’ve got nothing to say.”

Viv took a slow breath, trying to keep her voice level. “I didn’t want to jump in before you’d even taken your coat off. I’m listening now.”

Beth shook her head, pacing the living room. “Listening? That’s all you do lately—listen and nod like some… polite flatmate. Are we even in this together anymore, Viv? Or am I just here to rant into a wall while you watch football highlights?”

That hit sharper than Viv expected. “Flatmate?” she repeated, frowning. “Is that honestly what you think of me?”

Beth threw her arms up. “I don’t know what I think anymore! All I know is that marriage is supposed to feel like a partnership, and lately it feels like I’m dragging myself through it alone.”

Viv’s pulse spiked, her jaw tightening. “So now it’s our marriage that’s the problem? Not your awful day at work, not the stress—our marriage?”

Beth rounded on her, eyes flashing. “I’m saying I don’t feel like you’re really here with me anymore. And sometimes…” Her voice wavered but she pressed on. “…sometimes I wonder if marrying you just made it worse. If it just trapped us in this cycle.”

The words landed like a physical blow. Viv’s throat went tight. “You—” She blinked hard, forcing the lump in her throat down. “You wonder if marrying me was a mistake?”

Beth froze, instantly regretting it, but her pride kept her from taking it back right away. “I’m saying I don’t know if it fixed anything,” she muttered.

Viv’s voice cracked, louder now. “Beth, do you have any idea what that sounds like? Do you have any idea how much that hurts? You’re not just talking about stress—you’re questioning us. Our vows. Everything.”

Beth bit her lip, but the tears in her eyes only made her angrier at herself. “Maybe I am questioning it! I feel alone even when you’re right here. That’s worse than being alone on my own!”

Viv stepped forward sharply, anger pushing through the hurt. “Don’t you dare stand there and tell me I’m not with you. I’ve been here every single step of the way. I’ve picked you up after work, I’ve made dinners when you couldn’t lift your head off the pillow, I’ve listened to you cry in the dark—”

“Yeah, and then you go to training and it’s like I vanish from your head!” Beth shot back, voice breaking.

Viv’s voice rose, raw now. “That’s not fair and you know it. Just because I have to leave for work doesn’t mean I stop thinking about you. You think I’m off laughing with my teammates while you suffer? I’m texting you between drills, I’m counting the hours until I can come home—don’t you dare tell me I don’t care.”

Beth’s tears finally spilled over, but her voice was still sharp. “I just… I don’t feel it, Viv. Not lately. And I hate myself for saying that, but it’s true.”

Viv stood there for a beat, chest heaving, the silence so heavy it almost rang in her ears. Then she shook her head, voice trembling. “You don’t feel it. Okay.” She took a step back toward the doorway. “If you really believe that, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here.”

Beth’s heart lurched at that. “No—” She stepped forward, panic flashing in her eyes as Viv’s hand touched the doorframe. “Don’t you dare walk out on me right now.”

Viv turned halfway, eyes glistening. “You just told me you wonder if marrying me was a mistake. Do you have any idea how hard that is to hear from the person you built your life around?”

Beth’s face crumpled. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she choked out. “I was angry, I was—God, Viv, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Viv stood frozen in the doorway until Beth crossed the space between them and grabbed her wrist, holding on tightly. “Don’t go,” Beth begged, her voice breaking into sobs now. “Please, I didn’t mean it. I’m just so tired and it all came out wrong. Please stay.”

Viv looked at her for a long moment, torn between hurt and the instinct to comfort. The second Beth’s shoulders shook with another sob, the decision made itself. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Beth, pulling her in so tightly Beth almost gasped.

“Shhh,” Viv murmured, pressing her face into Beth’s hair. “I’m not going anywhere. Not when you’re like this.”

Beth clung to her, fingers digging into Viv’s back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she whispered over and over, her tears dampening Viv’s shirt.

Viv kissed her temple, holding her steady. “I know. I know you didn’t mean it. It just… it scared me, Beth. It really scared me.”

Beth pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, her own red and wet. “I don’t think marrying you was a mistake. I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever done. I just… I’m scared too. That I’m ruining it.”

Viv cupped her face gently, thumbs brushing her damp cheeks. “You’re not ruining anything. You’re allowed to be angry, to be stressed, to say things in the heat of the moment. But I need you to know—really know—that I’m here. Always. And I’m not just saying that because it’s romantic. It’s a fact. You’re my wife. I chose you. I’ll keep choosing you.”

Beth’s sobs softened, her body slowly relaxing against Viv’s. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

“I love you too,” Viv murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “And nothing you say in a bad moment is going to change that. But let’s… try not to test my heart like that again, okay?”

Beth gave a tiny laugh through her tears, nodding. “Okay.”

Viv guided them to the couch, pulling Beth into her lap and letting her curl into her chest. They stayed there for a long time, breathing in sync, the earlier venom melting into something warm and unshakable.

Viv kissed the top of her head and whispered, “We’re still us. Even after this. Especially after this.”

Beth closed her eyes, feeling the truth of it. “Yeah. We are.”

And in the quiet that followed, the weight between them shifted—not gone, but lighter—because they both knew they’d walk through worse and still find their way back to each other.

Chapter Text

Beth woke before the sun had fully risen, her eyelids sticky from too little sleep. The bed felt too big, too cold. She reached across instinctively, fingers searching for the warm shape of her wife, but all she found was the faint indentation where Viv had been. Her heart dropped into her stomach.

The sickening heaviness from last night came rushing back — the argument, the words she had thrown out carelessly, and the look on Viv’s face when she’d said them. Beth squeezed her eyes shut as if she could press the memory out of her head, but all she saw was Viv’s expression hardening, her jaw tightening, the way she had gone silent because she didn’t trust herself to speak.

Beth forced herself to sit up. Her head ached; her chest felt tight. She pulled on one of Viv’s old hoodies — the one that smelled faintly of her shampoo — and padded out of the bedroom, bracing herself for what she’d find.

The house was silent except for the faint hiss of the coffee machine. In the kitchen, Viv stood at the counter, hair pulled back messily, wearing a plain white shirt that hung loose on her frame. She wasn’t looking up, just staring at her mug like it had personally offended her.

Beth stopped in the doorway, biting her lip.

“Morning,” she whispered, but her voice cracked, betraying her nerves.

Viv’s eyes flicked up briefly, then back down. “Morning.” Her voice was low, neutral. Not cold, but not warm either.

Beth hated it. She hated this distance more than she hated her own reflection some mornings. It was wrong. It wasn’t them.

She stepped into the kitchen cautiously, like she was approaching a wounded animal. “Did you… sleep at all?”

Viv shrugged. “Some.” She sipped her coffee, her eyes never quite meeting Beth’s.

Beth leaned against the counter opposite her, gripping the edge for strength. “Viv, about last night—”

“Don’t,” Viv cut in sharply, finally looking at her. Her eyes were rimmed red, as if she’d stayed awake for hours replaying everything. “Beth, please. Not if you’re going to brush it off again.”

The sting of her words made Beth wince. She shook her head quickly. “I’m not. I swear I’m not. I just… I don’t even know why I said it. I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean it?” Viv’s voice cracked then, some of that tightly wound restraint unraveling. “You said our marriage felt like… like a weight. Like maybe it was too much for you. You think that doesn’t mean anything to me?”

Beth’s throat closed. She remembered her own words too well, words she’d spat in frustration and exhaustion: “Sometimes it feels like being married is just another pressure.” She hadn’t meant it — God, she hadn’t meant it like that. But Viv had heard it differently, and now they were here.

Beth rushed forward, desperate. “Viv, that’s not what I meant. I was tired, I was angry, I—”

Viv slammed her mug down a little harder than she intended, liquid sloshing over the rim. “Then what did you mean, Beth? Because all I heard was that you regret us. That I’m part of what’s crushing you.”

Beth’s eyes filled instantly. Her hands trembled against the counter. “No, no, no. God, Viv, never that. I don’t regret a single second of us. I don’t regret you. You’re the only thing that makes sense to me.”

But Viv wasn’t looking at her now. She had turned slightly, leaning against the counter like she was holding herself upright. Her knuckles were white against the edge.

The silence stretched painfully. Beth felt the tears spill down her cheeks before she could stop them. “Viv, please, look at me.”

Slowly, reluctantly, Viv turned her head. And when Beth saw the hurt etched across her wife’s face, it shattered her completely.

Beth’s sobs came out ragged, panicked. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear. I’m just… I’m so scared all the time, Viv. About losing people. About screwing things up. And then I take it out on you because you’re here, and it’s awful, and I hate myself for it.”

Viv’s expression softened, but she didn’t move. She just stood there, her own throat working, like she was fighting tears too.

Beth stumbled forward now, almost collapsing into Viv’s space. She clutched at her shirt, crying into her chest. “Don’t go. Please don’t ever go. Even when I’m horrible, even when I say the wrong thing. I can’t do this without you, Viv. I can’t.”

At first Viv didn’t move. Beth feared for a split second that she’d pull away. But then Viv’s arms came around her, tight and protective, like a shield against every ugly thought in Beth’s head.

“Hey,” Viv whispered, her hand coming up to cradle the back of Beth’s head. “Shh. I’m not going anywhere. Do you hear me? Not ever.”

Beth sobbed harder, fists tangled in Viv’s shirt.

Viv kissed the top of her head, rocking her gently like she was fragile. “You can shout, you can cry, you can say stupid things when you’re hurting. But don’t you ever think that one mistake will make me leave. You’re my wife, Beth. You’re it for me. Always.”

Beth pulled back just enough to look up at her, her face blotchy and wet. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Viv’s thumb brushed the tears from her cheeks, tender and unhurried. “I know. And I forgive you.” She leaned down, pressing their foreheads together. “But you have to believe me when I say — our marriage isn’t a weight to me. It’s the thing that keeps me standing.”

Beth let out a broken laugh, even through her tears. “You’re too good to me.”

Viv smirked faintly, brushing a stray strand of hair from Beth’s face. “Probably. But you’re stuck with me.”

Beth sniffled, then managed a weak smile. “Good. That’s all I want.”

They stood there for a long time, wrapped up in each other in the quiet kitchen, until finally Viv tugged Beth gently toward the sofa. They curled up together, Beth tucked against Viv’s chest, her hand resting over Viv’s heart.

Every now and then, Viv kissed her hair, murmuring little reassurances — some serious, some teasing just enough to coax a watery laugh from Beth. Slowly, the ache of the night before began to fade, replaced by the quiet certainty of their love.

Beth’s eyes fluttered closed against Viv’s chest. “Don’t let me go, yeah?”

Viv tightened her hold, whispering into her hair. “Never, Beth. Not in this lifetime.”

Chapter Text

Viv woke slowly, the soft weight of the duvet warm around her, the room quiet except for the steady hum of the boiler. She was comfortable—until she felt the distinct sensation of being watched. Cracking one eye open, she found Beth lying beside her, head propped on her hand, staring at her like she was the morning’s entertainment.

“Morning,” Beth whispered, like she hadn’t been lying there waiting.

Viv groaned and rolled onto her stomach, shoving her face into the pillow.

Beth tugged gently at her arm. “Don’t be grumpy. We’ve got the whole day off”
“Exactly,” Viv mumbled into the pillow. “Sleeping in.”

But Beth wasn’t having it. She climbed on top of her, the duvet slipping with her, pressing her entire body weight onto Viv’s back.

“You’re heavy,” Viv muttered.

“You love it.” Beth kissed the back of her neck.

Viv sighed dramatically, but when Beth laughed, the sound rumbling happily against her, she let it slide. For about three minutes. Then she wriggled free and made for the kitchen, because coffee was non-negotiable.

Beth followed, wrapped in the duvet like some overgrown child. She draped herself over Viv’s back as Viv spooned coffee grounds into the press.

“Can I make it?” Beth asked.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You’ll make it wrong.”

Beth kissed her shoulder. “You don’t trust me.”

“Not with caffeine.”

By the time Viv sat down at the table, mug in hand, Beth had abandoned her own chair to plonk herself right on Viv’s lap.

“You’re thirty years old,” Viv said flatly.

“I’m your wife. This is where I belong.” Beth stole a piece of her toast. “Also, yours tastes better.”

“It’s the same bread.”

Beth leaned in, lips brushing her jaw. “Yours has love in it.”

Viv closed her eyes. “Unbearable.”

Beth kissed her anyway, grinning against her lips.

⸻

The morning didn’t improve. Viv tried folding laundry, only for Beth to yank one of her shirts over her own head. It hung halfway down her thighs, the sleeves swallowing her hands.

“Stylish, right?” Beth asked, twirling in the hallway.

Viv crossed her arms. “You’re a thief.”

“Your clothes look better on me.”

“Take it off.”

“Make me.”

Viv muttered something sharp in Dutch, which only made Beth grin wider.

By lunchtime, Viv thought she might finally find some peace cooking pasta. But Beth hovered at her side the entire time, chin hooked over her shoulder, arms wrapped around her waist like a koala.

“You’re in the way,” Viv said, stirring sauce.

“No, I’m helping.”

“You’re suffocating me.”

“I’m taste-testing.” Beth grabbed the spoon before Viv could stop her. “Needs salt.”

Viv arched a brow. “I haven’t put salt yet.”

“Exactly.”

“God give me patience,” Viv muttered.

Beth kissed her neck again. “You don’t need patience. You’ve got me.”

⸻

The afternoon was worse. Viv sat with her book, finally, only for Beth to sprawl across her lap, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

“You’re heavy,” Viv said without looking up.

“You’re strong.”

“Can’t read like this.”

“You don’t want to read. You want to cuddle me.”

Viv set her book aside and gave her a flat look. “You think very highly of yourself.”

“I’m your wife. You’re supposed to.”

Viv’s lips twitched despite herself, so she leaned down and kissed her just to shut her up. But that only unleashed Beth’s flood of questions.

“Viv?”

“Yes.”

“If we swapped bodies, would you still fancy me?”

“No.”

Beth gasped. “What?!”

“You’d be me. That’s weird.”

“But you’d know it was me inside.”

Viv closed her eyes. “Beth, I’m not answering this.”

Beth poked her side. “Would you love me if I shaved my head?”

“No.”

Beth gasped louder. “Excuse me?”

“You’d look like Ben.”

Beth burst out laughing, practically rolling off her lap.

When she recovered, she laid her head back on Viv’s stomach. “You’d still think I was fit.”

Viv flicked her forehead. “Barely.”

Beth only laughed harder.

⸻

By the time dinner rolled around, Viv was determined to reclaim her space. She started chopping vegetables, but Beth trailed after her, poking her ribs, kissing her shoulder, asking inane questions every three minutes.

“Viv?”

“No.”

“You don’t know what I was going to say!”

“Yes, I do.”

Beth pressed closer, chin on her shoulder again. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

Viv dropped the knife on the counter and pinched the bridge of her nose. “We’re not doing this again.”

Beth tugged at her shirt. “Answer.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You’d live in dirt.”

“I’d still be me.”

“You’d be slimy.”

Beth clutched her chest. “Heartless.”

Viv glanced at her, expression dry. “Ja. Maybe.” But when she saw Beth’s grin falter, just slightly, she leaned down and kissed her temple. “I’d keep you in a box, fine.”

Beth lit up like the sun.

⸻

When they finally crawled into bed, Viv brushed her teeth in peace—or thought she did until Beth appeared in the doorway, toothbrush dangling.

“Can I use yours?”

“No.”

“Why not? We kiss.”

“Because I’m not kissing plaque.”

Beth laughed so hard she nearly dropped the brush.

Later, under the covers, Beth tangled herself around Viv like ivy, head under her chin, legs thrown over hers.

“One last question,” Beth mumbled, sleep creeping into her voice.

Viv groaned. “No.”

“If you had to choose between me and Messi—”

“You.”

Beth grinned against her chest. “Good answer.”

Viv kissed the top of her head. “Go to sleep, liefje.”

Beth murmured, “Love you.”

Viv exhaled, arms tightening around her. “Love you more. Even when you’re insufferable.”

Beth giggled. “Especially then.”

Viv smiled in the dark, and though she’d never admit it out loud, she hoped every day off with Beth was just as maddening.