football imagines <3

(16) café - john stones

The roast of coffee had brought you, somewhat, a kind of comfort you couldn't find anywhere else, it was funny because you didn't even like coffee that much. A white hot chocolate or any fruit cooler your go-to order when you visit the establishment, the baristas handing it to you before you even paid.

It was a little coffee shop that not many people knew of, but also, enough do that it keeps them in business. You've never met the owners but you've heard about how nice they were; to their customers and to their workers.

"Thanks, Phil." You nodded, adding the extra change to the tip jar making the middle-aged man smile brightly at you. It was one of those days where you brought a book with you, having off the rest of the afternoon, and wanting to spend it here.

There was little-to-no-one in the shop — just perfect and how you like it — when you took a seat and started reading.

"Excuse me?" A man's voice piped up and you lifted your head up, closing your book as you looked at the stranger.

"May I help you?" You asked, confused at the actions of this random man with a small smile on his face.

He looked oddly familiar; not someone you knew personally but you've definitely seen him on the TV before, you didn't know. Or maybe, he was just one of the blessed, walking around with a handsome face all around Manchester.

It gnawed at you, though, you've definitely seen him before. 

"I see you're reading [...], if you don't mind me asking, how are you enjoying it?" He asked, his blue eyes staring straight into your soul.

You felt so exposed that you averted your eyes, looking at the cover and taking a sip of your drink before answering, "I've been enjoying it, the characters need a little work though, but I'll deal."

"You're talking about [...] right?"

You gasped, "Oh my gosh, yes! Do you know how many funny looks I get when I say I'm not, particularly, a fan of [...]? I'm glad I met somebody that agrees with me."

He sets his coffee on the table and stretched out his hand, "I'm sorry, where are my manners? My name's John." He smiled again, and you swooned.

You shook it, smiling, "I'm Y/N. Do you want to join me, John?" Pointing at the empty opposite seat, you opened the door for more conversation.

"I wouldn't mind."

He scrapes the chair from under the table out, and sits on the plush cushion, holding his gaze on you as that small smile still lingers on his lips.

"So, what do you think about [...], his arch-nemesis?"

*******

That was a few weeks ago. Now, whenever you and John have free time - away from your jobs - you meet up at this café. As if it has become your guys personal sanctuary when you need a breather from the pressures and responsibilities of life.

"I see you're getting real close to that John lad." Phil mentioned and your cheeks turned red, an unwitting smile crossing your face. The man smiled as you tried to reel in the emotion, not wanting to show him you like John so much.

It has, only, been a couple of weeks after all.

"No, don't, you look so much prettier with a smile on your face." John's voice whispered behind you, making you jump in your spot.

"Jesus, John. Don't frighten me like that, what if I had hot drinks in my hand." You scolded, and John's breath hit your neck as he chuckled. It sent shivers down your back, making you flex your fingers.

"I'm sorry..." He apologised, "Let me make it up to you. I'll pay for our coffees and you find us a seat, yeah?"

You nodded your head, too afraid to speak. As you were about to leave, you heard him mumble under his breath, "Good girl." Yeah, your movements were definitely sped up and you didn't care if he saw.

Only when you got to the table could you let out a sigh of relief, that whole interaction imprinted into your brain at how close your bodies were. His breath on your neck and his little "good girl" that weakened your knees - oh no, you were head over heels for this man without even knowing his surname. The revelation of your "crush" on him wasn't all that... bad, you definitely felt better after denying it for weeks now.

Okay, so you did like him, who cares? It's not like you'll ever voice it to him so you'll be fine.

"You'll get old faster thinking so hard." He laughed as he pressed a finger to your creased forehead.

"I like you!" You rambled out the words making John freeze up. Oh shit, shit, shit, shit.

Did you just ruin something good? You didn't want to look up after your hand flew to your mouth, covering it up, and stared at the cup John put on the table.

"Y/N?" John called.

"Y/N?" He called again, singing your name, and you closed your eyes tighter cursing your mouth for just blurting that out. "I like you too."

The rejection... came. Huh? Did you just hear that properly? Did he say he liked you back? Looking up, you noticed that John sat with his hands crossed on the table, leaning over and smiled at you.

"Are you lying to me right now?" You asked, suspicions on high alert.

"Nope. I would never. I like you, liked you ever since that first day I came up to you." He said it nonchalantly, not knowing how it was affecting you.

"Oh... wow... um, okay. I didn't know that, why didn't I know that?"

"Cause I didn't tell ya."

Of course, you gave him a look that translated to "obvious much?" and he let out this boisterous laugh, the John laugh, as you've named it. You were about to say something when a little boy came out to your table, more specifically to John's side.

"Oh my god, you're John Stones right?"

That's when it clicked. Yes, John Stones - the Man City star. You don't know how you didn't put two-and-two together considering the posters and scarfs of Man City littering the coffee shop. Recognition showed on your face and as John signed his sweater and gave him a high-five, he frowned.

"You're John Stones." You were flabbergasted, repeating the question and getting a tired yes as his response.

"Did I say something wrong?"

He shook his head, "No. I just don't want you to know me as John Stones, the football player, I liked you knowing me as John. The man with a secret love for contemporary literature."

You sipped your hot chocolate in silence as you go over his words, "You can't remove yourself from your name, you'll be John Stones everywhere you go but I will respect your wishes and treat you as John - the contemporary literature lover."

Your words brought a smile onto his face as he grabbed your hand and thanked you, "Just so you know, I still like you. As John Stones and as John - contemp-lit lover."

"I'm glad you still do, Mr Stones."