"some things just make sense... and one of those is you and i." - hayley williams
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wc: 2.4k
synopsis: while embarking on your career as a journalist, you are arranged to interview omar marmoush - the boy who was your first love years ago, now a rising football star. even after years apart, feelings still lingering about, you know... and he knows... this is what's meant to be.
contents: fluff, sfw, female journalist reader, other journalist oc who is your bff, flirting, reunited with the first boyfriend you ever had awww, omar's charm is out of this world!!
notes: this is 2 requests turned 1 fic 🩵🩵 this was so adorable to write i hope you guys like 🥹 tagged: @football-lovergirl
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you were an absolute natural at your job, but there was a particular element about your next mission that had you feeling all sorts.
you paced about your room, phone in hand, the night before you were about to be faced with one of the people who was the main reason for one of the sweetest times in your life.
"y/n... this is huge! just breathe... compose yourself..." your fellow journalist friend, diana, reassured to you over the facetime call that you shared with her.
years ago as you attended university in germany as you'd been accepted into the journalism program you'd had your eyes on for a good bit...
had university also brought to you plans aside from schoolwork, but for a taste of love which you had first been fed when you were doing fieldwork alongside wolfsburg ii.
there at that football club, was an egyptian boy that you'd caught glances from as you sat on the sidelines jotting in your memo book. the glances started out as from time... to frequent... to a calibre where coach would have to snap at omar to stay focused during training, which you found increasingly cute.
it turned into something sweet. the hearts and arrows with "omar + y/n" written faintly in the margins of your memo book became a reality.
it was with that boy from wolfsburg ii you shared your first kiss with... your first date with... a myriad of joyful and emotional moments as one would have with their first love.
but after nearly a year, home called you back... and the demand of omar's football career began to grow. "maybe this was just to see what love's like," you thought to yourself the first few nights after being away from him. you both went on about your respective lives—it wasn't a bad breakup like you'd seen your friends go through... which you were so grateful for, and are.
and now, you were going to see him again—as you'd been blessed the opportunity to interview that same 18 year old egyptian boy... now a 26 year old man. omar marmoush... who now plays for one of the biggest clubs in all of european football, manchester city.
"hellooo? you still there y/n?" diana's voice sounded over the phone.
you snapped out of the reverie, shaking your head. "yeah—i was just thinking...
...yeah. i'm... i'll be ready. this will go nicely."
"oh i'm sure it will. i was there with you when you got word that you'd be interviewing him. you were all blushy~" diana teased.
"oh stop~" you said, the sarcasm quite evident.
you didn't want the teasing to stop. the thoughts of possibilities between you and your first ever love years after it had been.
it had been once. and you sat in wonder, in bouts for those years after deciding to live your respective lives on one's own to keep up with the demands of academia and football. "could we try again?" was a question that had never gone away.
you always managed to brush it off because you were focused on your grind in academics as was he in football... seemingly.
"this is going to be such a beautiful reunion, y/n." diana continued. "i can already hear omar and his voice going on about how 'you're all grown up.'"
you sat on the edge of the bed and sighed contentedly as she said that... smiling as you looking out to the skyline from your room, the city lights contrasting the near black sky calming. it radiated hope in a way.
diana chimed again. "i'm rooting for you, babes. get some sleep for tomorrow's interview, okay? i'll pick you up."
you smiled. classic diana, bearing burdens of her loved ones.
"love you, di," you sighed.
"love you, babes. see ya~"
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that next evening after an ecstatic city win, it was time you had come face to face with that boy, now the all-grown-up international who had scored a hattrick in a span of just fourteen minutes versus newcastle. you were in awe yourself as you watched from the box way up with diana - who shook you gently by the shoulders from time - "oooh, someone's gonna be all prideful when he's coming off the pitch."
it was like that, in a way. omar - cocky, yet still so humble about it. walking with gratitude as he carried the match ball underneath one arm as he went to hug his teammates and staff postmatch.
it was the same "proud of myself" sort of smirk that you could always remember him giving when he'd achieved just about anything.
but his entire expression faded into something softer as he was coming through the tunnel and into the very area where you stood, mic in hand in front of that backdrop that all postgame interviews occur in front of.
"it's... her." omar whispered to himself, quiet enough he could barely even hear himself over the clamour surrounding as he approached you, even his walk becoming humbler.
it was a sweet greeting omar gave you... the kind kiss on each cheek that one would greet a loved one from family with, and you could both tell from each other's tender smiles shared that there was so much you guys wanted to talk about and catch up on that had little to nothing to do with the match that had just wrapped up.
though you both stood on business - as you stood in front of that backdrop, mic in hand... you readied yourself to speak for the masses on that camera, as did he. you skimmed your interview questions just once more in your mind before all had gone live.
and there was diana off-camera working the rest of the medias, right in front of you and omar. giggling... making a heart with her hand that she could hold up to her eye to keep you two within the frame of the shape her hands curved into.
you tensed and felt your cheeks tinge with heat and blush. in your peripheral vision, you could see omar. noticing your colleague's teasing. he smiled to himself and looked down... giving a silent chuckle.
and then he looked at you, his gaze still soft. giving a kind and gentle nod - one that let you know he was ready to speak. ready for the cameras to get rolling.
you were done for - it was for certain you couldn't live down the remnants of your subtle, rarely-surfacing, yet steadfast crush on your first ever boyfriend, omar marmoush.
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"gosh, the whole world must think i'm a fool. i must be so rosy right now." you thought to yourself in your head after that hell of an interview.
well, it had gone nicely, looking at it from an outsider's perspective. you asked all the right questions, and omar gave all the right answers, singing his praises to all the positive forces that he knew accoladed to this brilliant hattrick in his professional career. his confidence mixed with humility was moving...
...and your elegance was unmatched. not like you were sure of it at first due to how many feelings you have been feeling inside and still are, but as soon as the cameras cut after that one exceptional take of an interview, diana came to you, with the most excited grin on her face, nudging you teasingly...
"you did beautifully, girl. gonna go take care of some more media stuff around... text me when you're ready to head back home. i got you." diana reassured, hugging you quickly though affectionately before she scurried off, giving an exaggerated wink to you.
you found it hard to believe her... for as you were interviewing omar, you were unable to read your own demeanor. for the heart hands she was giving and the pouts she gave you whenever omar shot that charming smile right your way... you weren't so sure you were that composed during the interview.
"agh- sorry about my friend! she's... just being silly. i love her though..." you sighed. omar stepped closer to you, facing you, the smile on his face bigger and sweeter than ever.
"awh, she just cares about you..." omar started.
"...wow. y/n. it's really you. is it?"
"i am thinking the same thing you are, omar..." you sighed.
your eyes met omar's... like... for good, this time. not locked into an interview... but just naturally sharing eye contact. it made you feel warm inside. those dark brown eyes that shone when he was thinking of or looking at something... or more so someone he loves was bringing back memories of teenage you. teenage you two.
he held that awestruck gaze upon you for a second longer, but it broke just as you were about to speak.
"whewwww!! marmoushhh..." city's famous striker none other than erling haaland, chimed in as he walked past, in the direction of the club dressing room, accompanied by winger savinho who whistled at the sight of you two. "shooters shoot, marmoush..!"
and both you and omar were left with your lips parted, in quite a bit of disbelief...
...could that mean there's something you don't know? something you don't know about omar's feelings... could they be there..?
the way he sighed softly, almost adorable - no, very adorable... let you know something.
"ahhhh... sorry. well... i guess it may make you feel better than you aren't the only one being teased by the ones you work with~" omar said, clearly a little more humbled.
"but wow..." he continued.
"you...
...you've blossomed, y/n."
"omarrr... look at you! from second division wolfsburg... to here. man city. you're a star."
he laughed softly, giving you that up-down look that made you blush even more than you already were.
"it's been so long." you sighed.
"it has... i just- wow..." he murmured, in such disbelief.
you could notice a twinkle in his eyes. not like he even had to mention it... because to omar... you are beautiful. he couldn't believe it. you, his first girlfriend... now interviewing him as he's a player for one of the most well known first tier clubs in all of the lands. he still saw the same sweet girl who was always jotting her fieldnotes at his training sessions...
...only now was he graced the moment in time to take in you now.
not just a... but the beautiful young woman doing journalism, who he only has fond memories of from when you two hung out while living life in germany.
you were taken by surprise as you felt a touch at your hand... his large fingers delicately clasping your hand into his hold. his look was full of sincerity.
"we have so much to catch each other up on, y/n." omar confessed. "just... let me know the day that works best for you."
were the sparks really flying again?
the familiar butterflies flitting about in your stomach gave you that inner feeling of deja vu. you'd been here before. not physically here relative to the etihad... but you'd been here, given this feeling by omar from something he's said that made your heart skip a beat.
"i'd... really like that, omar." you agreed, not even needing to think twice about it. "i'm not on the same number that i was while in germany years back, of course... but i've got you~"
you unclasped your purse that was slung over your shoulder, and reached and felt just what you were looking for. you always kept just a few of your business cards on hand... though just as you looked up with the card in hand... omar's hands were busy.
his match ball on the ground, him slipping out of his postmatch jacket... hands tugging at his jersey which he slipped with ease over his head, off of his body. his eyes caught onto your business card as he was about to hand his matchworn jersey to you. your gazes met one another's again, eliciting a giggle from both of you.
"hehe, for me?" you blushed, eyes darting between omar's charming expression and his match jersey in hand, outstretched for you to take... which you did. and he smiled, as he used that same hand that once help his jersey out to you to take the business card gently from your fingers, in between his own... examining it with a smile before his eyes met yours again.
"all for you, dear. and thank you for this~" omar said, holding onto your business card with your contact inscribed in it as if it was something precious...
...for it was. a reminder that the first girl he'd ever fallen in love with had come this far in life. and all that he felt for you was beginning to resurface just like that... as it was for you... and boy, at this point was it difficult for both you and omar to hide.
"y/n... it's so lovely to see you again, you know that?"
"it is, omar. life's so cool like that, eh? we're just, i don't know... here! face to face, after all this time." you agreed with a smile.
his smile was so charming that the feeling of having to look away before you turned completely beet red had come over you for the first time in a long time.
"yes y/n... and after all this time, we're going to be seeing so much more of each other...
...i promise you."
as if anyone around could actually see it, but you were certain that your heart was warmed like nothing else in the world had ever done to you after omar avowed that to you.
he still looked at you like you were the only girl that was to ever exist. right there, post interview at the etihad, one day after seven years of not having seen each other.
this moment let you know, as you and omar kept up that innocent gaze for one another...
...nothing's changed.
that subtle, rarely-surfacing, yet steadfast crush that you brushed off as silly was not so silly anymore... for it was not only a certainty you had about him... but him, for you.
after all this time... he's still into you... as are you.
But that didn‘t change the fact that there was this strange atmosphere ever since the two of you had one of your biggest fight ever.
-
At the age of 15, Feli and you met.
At the age of 16, she asked you out on a date.
After several dates, you asked you to be her girlfriend - it took you some weeks to build up the courage to do so.
At the age of 23, Feli asked you to marry her.
At the age of 24, the two of you were happily married.
Both of you seemed to be happy - you were, but something in Felis mindset shifted which had led to your argument.
She hated that she couldn‘t wear her ring.
She hated that nobody knew she was married.
For the world, you didn’t exist - that‘s how many people knew about you.
You‘re her wife.
She wanted to show everybody how much in love she was with you.
She wanted to post pictures with you,
she wanted to hold your hand in public,
she wanted to be seen with you.
You‘re everything to her and nobody knew about it.
-
It started as a simple conversation.
"Liebe, can we talk about something?" the German asked, taking a seat in front of you. You looked up from your laptop, putting the pen down, so your complete attention was on her. "Is everything alright?" you questioned, a big frown displayed over your features. It was never a good sign to start conversations like that, "what‘s wrong?"
The defender took a deep breath before she answered straightforward, "be my wife." which came out ruder than intended.
Confused, you looked at her, "I am"
"You‘re not" she declared, her jaw tense.
"What‘re you talking about?" you closed your laptop, "does that mean nothing?" wiggling with your ringfinger.
"No" she didn‘t want to get mad but slowly anger started to float through her body, all her emotions discovering the surface, "because I can‘t wear mine!"
Taken back by her outburst, you matched her tone, "that‘s not my fault! You‘re the athlete, not me"
"You wanted us to be private!" her voice raised, "I could‘ve easily taped my ring" with her finger at the brick of nose, she tried to calm down. That’s not the way she wanted it to turn out - not at all.
"I want to be public" she stated, this time a much softer voice talking to you. The voice you could listen hours to.
"I don’t!"
With her voice level back angry and heart hurt, she growled, "Why not?!"
"I don‘t want to"
Your answer only made her angrier as she stood up and walked around the kitchen counter to pour herself a glass of water.
"That‘s not a reason!"
"You know what?!" leaving the chair, you gathered your notes, "I don‘t have to explain myself"
Feli could only watch as you took your laptop and walked away, in the direction of the front door.
Quickly, she followed you, stopping you in your tracks as she grabbed your wrist, her touch gentle, "Where are you going?"
"Away from you!" you felt so hurt, the insult of not being her wife. Was this whole marriage a joke to her?
"Y/n" she started, the hurt on your face visible for her, "please-"
"No, i got the message" you grumbled, "it‘s yours" angrily you took of the ring, slamming it down on the shelf.
Maybe it was childish to take off your ring but you felt helpless. She had been your girlfriend for many years and your wife for a few years, but never, never ever had she hurt you as much with a statement as she just did.
You left shortly after, Feli standing in the hall with an empty expression on her, your ring between her fingers.
She fucked up. She really did and she knew.
-
It was dark outside, 10 minutes before midnight and you still weren‘t home which made her anxious. The varnish of her nails was peeled off, her leg hobbling up and down and her mind racing with worst case scenarios.
Liebe❤️
When are you coming home?
please let me know
Even though you were hurt, you replied to her text. You hated it not reply to her texts and you could imagine how she was feeling, you hated it too when you didn’t know when she was coming home.
You
one hour.
Feli was laying in bed, anxiously watching the clock in your bedroom as she waited for you to come home. There was no way she would fall asleep before she knew you were safely at home.
Exactly an hour later, you opened the front door, walking into your home, eyes puffy and red. The defender didn’t leave the bed, she didn’t try to approach you nor talk to you. She wanted to let you be. Yet that didn‘t stop her from hoping you would join her in bed.
And you did.
Wordlessly you laid down, your back facing her. The German felt her heart sink, usually you would always cuddle her - she really had fucked up.
It took you about 20 minutes before you fell asleep, your body physically exhausted, Feli still wide awake. As your soft snores filled the room the defender was quick to decide what her next move would be. She couldn’t sleep without holding you, so that‘s what she did. Her arms snuggled around waist as she pulled you close, your body relaxing in her touch. She would make it up to you - that was a promise.
-
You woke up alone in bed, the wolfsburg player nowhere to be seen. Making your way out of bed, dressed in a oversized shirt and shorts, you walked in the kitchen, the smell of pancakes hitting your nostrils, "good morning" you muttered as you rubbed your eyes, taking on seat at the bar stool.
"Hey" the german whispered as she took you in, "I made you breakfast" she handed you the plate which was filled with pancakes.
"Thank you"
It was silent for a few moments.
"I‘m sorry" your wife started, "I’m so sorry. You‘re my wife no matter if the world knows that or not- I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I’m so sorry for insulting you like that" she inhaled sharply, turning to you as she gently interwined your fingers, "I love you. You are everything to me"
"Your comment hurt me" you whispered, your head falling against her shoulder as she instantly wrapped her arms around you. Silent tears streamed down your face as she mumbled sweet nothings in your ear.
"I‘m so sorry, baby" multiple kisses were pressed against your head, "I don’t wanna be public if you don‘t want to. I want you to be happy"
Her hands cupped your cheeks as she made you look at her, her eyes determined with her statement, "I love you"
-
"Can you tell me why you don‘t want to be public?" she asked one evening as she held you in her arms with the tv playing in the background. Her tone was gentle, understanding and as if she would accept every answer, she just had to know an answer.
"I like privacy"
And even though, it was indeed true that you enjoyed your privacy, the real reason to stay in secret was because you were afraid. You feared the public and their words. You didn‘t want your relationship to break down because her fans didn‘t like you or your looks or the fact that you don’t play nor enjoy football.
Just you and her.
-
The topic wasn‘t brought up again yet you could see how it killed Feli from day to day, how much it hurt her to take off her ring every morning. Her eyes stopped shining the way they used to, her smile didn‘t reach the corner of her eyes anymore - the light was missing.
She loved you, she really did and she still treated you like a princess but not wearing her ring, not having the opportunity to show you off left her heart in pain.
Which is why you did what you did one day after her training.
The defender came home with a smile tugged on her lips as she told you about her day.
After her story about the day, "I‘m going to shower, baby" she stated, pressing multiple kisses to your cheeks before she walked towards the bathroom, her phone resting on the kitchen counter.
When you heard the shower, it was safe to say that she wouldn‘t come out of the bathroom for at least 20 minutes.
Snatching her phone from the counter, you made yourself comfortable on the couch. Feli never had a problem if you take her phone, she had nothing to hide and was fully convinced that you would never control her which was true. Never ever would you stalk through her phone or anything, most of the time when you used her phone was for music, hay day or when she asked you to reply to someone. You trusted each other blindly and more than anything, so opening instagram, you did the thing that made her happy, hopefully.
You revealed your marriage with a simple post.
Within seconds her phone blew off, notification after notification.
feli_rauch
jule_brand and 20.364 others
feli_rauch 🤍
When Feli left the bathroom, you were happily cooking some dinner as music played softly in the background. You swayed with the beat, humming along the lyrics as you prepared your meal.
In the meantime Feli walked in the living room as she heard her phone ring constantly. What was happening?
And then she saw it.
Over a thousand notifications on instagram.
Why?
Your post.
"Liebe!" she yelled while she quickly entered the kitchen.
"Ye-" you‘re cut of as lips were pressed against your own, strong arms wrapping around your waist.
Feli kissed you with every inch of love in her body,
she kissed you with so much happiness,
she kissed you with a new found passion.
When air became a problem, you pulled away, the defender chasing after your lips for multiple pecks.
"What was that?" you asked, completely out of breath, lips swollen and chest heavily rising and falling.
Replying with "A thank you" she cupped your cheeks, thumb softly caressing it, "for the- that the world knows I‘m married and happily so"
your cheeks turned red, her gaze so intense as it was filled with love. She smiled brightly at you, a smile that reached the corner of her eyes.
"I‘m sorry for being so secretive, I was afraid of the outcome- the media and fans but I’m done with it. I love you and it‘s time for everyone to know" you stated in a firm voice, ready to fight the world if needed.
"I‘m so in love with you"
-
Since that day, there hasn't been a day where Felicitas took off her wedding ring. In games, she would tape it up, the same as in training. It was her good luck charm and everybody should know it.
