Another win, Tommen against Roscrea, no one was truly surprised. Tadhg and the rest of the team had done outstandingly. The away from home game was the final one of the season, and it couldn’t have ended on a higher note. The boys had already started ringing hotels, all along the way to the changing rooms and back to the field for the trophy, trying to book for accommodations with themselves, friends and obviously very proud girlfriends.

You being the girlfriend of the one and only Tadhg Lynch, you were pressed against the entrance archway to the field, being kissed like the world was ending. “Mm, mm Tadhg-“ His hand slips imto the loose French braid you’re donning. “Proud of me?” He murmured, fishing for the same compliment again, giving in happily you sigh, “So so proud,”

After an interruption from Coach M, resulting in Tadhg momentarily looking murderous, how dare anyone interrupt his making out with his girlfriend of two years? You were all loaded onto the bus, where they drove the whole team, and their tag alongs to one of the lushest hotels nearby. When the bus pulls up, he’s already a little tipsy on victory with the team and boys, but content with you nuzzled into his neck, under his arm. “Wake up baby. We’re here.” He smooches your temple.

Wandering into the reception, the coach is too pleased with the win to bother with room arrangements, and just asks for random pairs to collect cards. Two per room. Four for others. Tadhg snags a two person, and places his arm over your shoulder, steering you to one of the many elevators. Slow, unrushed kisses take place in the elevator, as tenderly his fingers tilt your jaw.

Once in the room, and door locked, he flicks on the lights beside the bed, and gently wipes your makeup off, per your drowsy instructions. He takes you to the bathroom, helps you wash your teeth and face, and grabs some of his clothes for you to sleep in. When you step out, he guides you to the bed, undoing the almost fallen out braid, and cards his fingers gently through your locks, erasing any knots. “My boxers and shirt is there. Both clean, okay?” He murmurs, kissing your hair, then your cheek from behind.