#football and baseball are so slow

[thesundanceghost]

People who don’t like baseball are like people who don’t like cats. Like nobody else really cares but if you ask them about it they WILL go on for ten minutes about why the topic in question is the worst thing imaginable and should be erased from society immediately

[whoopsyeahokay]

Fifty Seven

summary: prompt fill. between 1982 and 1983, Wally meets and falls completely head over heels for a girl who changes everything. his biggest fan, his greatest love. you. (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: fluff. AU - pre-canon. dorks falling in love. author doesn't know American football. total disregard for canon lore. HEA.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🏈

Fifty Seven

It was gradual, how things developed between you and Wally. Slow and peripheral at first. Then, like a confetti cannon—pop💥—instant, exciting; a pocket of fresh air in a dense smog. And it was all thanks to Wally's best friend, Rodney.

See, Wally was a baseball guy. Had planned to continue being a baseball guy through high school. He was an excellent pitcher with an impressive BA, and his mama had been over-the-top supportive for Wally to join the team—believed in him so much that she'd even strongarmed Coach Burns to let Wally try out for varsity.

But Rodney? Had wanted to join the football team. And Wally had wanted to do everything with his inseparable since birth best buddy, so he'd found himself donning a helmet and nailing technical drills like it was paint-by-numbers. Obviously, he'd made the team. Had started winning games, gained popularity and praise and attention from girls. Had fast become Coach's MVP only to, in sophomore year, be transferred to the varsity team. Go Devils!

That'd meant training longer, playing harder, and receiving interested elevator-looks from the hottest chicks in school. Seniors who'd graduated out of the awkwardness of puberty and had learned how to flaunt their curves. Don't worry, Rodney had been along for the ride, built like a brick shithouse and equally as formidable on the field, and he'd kept Wally humble.

Not that he'd needed to, because the thing about attention was the more Wally got, the less he was seen.

Yeah, he was the star receiver, the guy whose name everyone knew. But...that was about all they knew about him. People summed him up to the number on his jersey. Shallow. Detached. The girls he took on dates wanted the infamy of having made out with him—"he's such a fantabulous kisser,"—and the guys admired the hell out of him, clapped his back and handed him beers, but no one expressed an interest in peeling back flesh and bone to see what made Wally tick.

Wally wasn't lonely; he had Rodney and Don and Keith. BFFs since kindergarten who gave a real shit about him. It was just that, if people approached him to ask questions, he wanted it to feel less like an interview and more like a connection. Small talk was exhausting.

He'd been contemplating this when you'd first popped onto his radar. Shooting hoops in the gym at lunch to brood over his latest failed effort with a girl—Sarah Miller from History—when, oh shit, look out!, you'd walked through the door the second Wally had decided to unleash his frustration by whipping the ball at the wall. He'd overcompensated. The ball had curved to the left. Smack, you'd taken it square in the head.

Somehow, you hadn't been hurt, though the sound had convinced Wally you should've had a bruise blossoming on the area of impact. He'd run over, eyes wide in panic, visually checking you over to ensure he hadn't concussed you.

He'd rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah," You'd grinned, friendly, not even a little bit upset, "Happens more than you think." Which would've raised flags if Wally hadn't been preoccupied by how your proximity smelled like summer.

After a moment of uncertainty, Wally had stuck out his hand and introduced himself, "I'm Wally Clark. I, uh... I'm better at football." He'd felt like an idiot five seconds later when you'd merrily declared:

"I know," still smiling like he hadn't just thoroughly embarrassed himself. "You always feint left." Then, in general consideration, "I'm surprised no one's figured that out yet."

Wally had stared at you in surprise, "I mean... I do what feels right in the moment."

You'd raised your hands, "I'm just saying, your recovery's weak on your left backfoot, so you might wanna switch it up soon."

Wally had crashed through a gamut of emotions in under a second, beginning with insecurity and ending in shockawe. Because you'd noticed something. And, okay, yes, it'd been jersey-number related, but it hadn't been how well he filled out his uniform.

"You come to the games?" He'd wondered as he'd valiantly ignored how his stomach had started to feel squirmy.

You'd nodded, "You're fun to watch." And you'd said it so...casually. Like it'd been part of the Split River High zeitgeist: The stadium became a sardine can because Number 57, Wally Clark, was fun to watch.

"So, I guess you're gonna be there tomorrow?" He'd asked, the seed of an unfamiliar sense of intrigue planted. He'd watched you tilt your head, watched your eyes light up when you'd smiled. Wally had felt his cheeks heat and his eyes go soppy in response.

"That's the plan, Stan," You'd gleefully confirmed.

That'd been where it'd all started.

You and he hadn't become friends or anything like that, but Wally had felt a connection. Like you and he had clicked. From then on, he'd sought you out in the crowd at every game. Where's Waldo between plays. You'd never been in the same place twice, and as soon as he'd find you, you'd hold up a poster-board boasting a glittery '57' in school blue, and cheer him on with gusto.

It'd swiftly become Wally's favorite part of playing football.

Tonight, Wally was mid-search, batting away Rodney's reminder that the team planned to hit Max's Diner after the game, win or lose, when Number 36, Matt Wilson, advised, "Dude, don't interrupt. It's like a good-luck ritual at this point."

Rodney frowned, "What're talking about?"

Even Wally broke his concentration and swiveled his head to look at Matt in confusion.

With a snort, Matt pointed out, "Clark always looks for the girl, finds her, then plays harder than ever and we win the game. He's been doing it for weeks." He shrugged, "I mean, whatever works, right?"

He did? Huh. He guessed he did...

"You got a girlfriend and didn't say anything?" Rodney accused, a little hurt. "Ouch."

"It's not like that," Wally assured him, though he felt his cheeks flush and his lips curve into a dopey smile.

Rodney studied Wally for a moment and then, "Alright, my man, what's her name?" A big, teasing grin on his face.

Wally opened his mouth to answer before he realized, shit, he actually had no idea. You hadn't given him your name the afternoon he'd accidentally pelted you with a basketball.

"You're not serious." Rodney said flatly, "you don't even know her name?" while Matt slapped his knee and crowed.

Wally was about to defend himself when, just over Rodney's shoulder, there you were, gaze already on him. His insides instantly went gooey, broad smile stretched across his face, and Rodney leveled him with an unimpressed look that Wally refused to acknowledge.

"For the love of God, ask for her name." Rodney commanded before he stuck his mouthguard between his teeth.

The whistle blew and the game continued.

The Devils won.

‗•‗

Taking Rodney's suggestion was somewhat harder than Wally had anticipated. He just couldn't bring himself to do it, nerves piqued whenever he caught sight of you in the hall. He wasn't a nervous guy—Wally was a big, brave boy, thank you very much—but something about you made him stutter and overthink and, aaah, what would he even say!? Hey, thanks for coming to watch me play after I hit you in the face. Also, what's your name, girl who I share a new, ongoing at-game tradition?

Lame.

He needed more information. ✨A r e a s o n✨. Some unavoidable situation wherein Wally had to go up to you that didn't insist upon itself. Or he could actually be a big, brave boy and just say hi as casually as you'd told Wally he was fun to watch.

Between the last game and the next, Wally began gathering facts from a distance (while Rodney's gaze burned a hole into the side of Wally's head).

He learned that you sat with a group of sophomores in the cafeteria, laughing along yet not interjecting, comfortable giving the stage to your friends. Being a year below him explained why Wally hadn't noticed you before, but since that fateful day in the gym, he hadn't been able to stop noticing you.

You were quiet, though not in a shy way. You often spent time in the library—or, rather, you were always in the library when Wally happened to be, nose in a book on the windowsill. You stepped aside to let people go through a door first, and smiled at everyone; and on Mondays and Thursdays your fingers and jeans were smeared with charcoal from your Art class.

Your clothes changed, but your shoes didn't. Beat up Converse you clearly loved to death. You carried around a Sony walkman like the one Keith had, headphones on in the mornings and around your neck in the afternoons. Wally wanted to know what music you listened to.

Truth be told, he wanted to know a lot of things. Like your favorite movie and what you did in your spare time. If you went to parties or preferred to stay home and play boardgames (he wouldn't mind trading a sticky ping-pong ball for a Monopoly shoe). Were you strictly a cassette girl or did you listen to vinyl, too? Bike or license? Star Trek or Star Wars? Tom or Jerry?

God, Wally had it bad. He wanted to know everything. Every detail.

And, finally, after several failed attempts to muster the courage to cold approach you, ✨a r e a s o n✨ fell into Wally's lap and he decided it was now or never.

Practice had just ended. He was loose and warm and in a good mood, and after saying goodbye to the guys on the field, he turned and saw you sitting alone on the bleachers. Headphones on like a headband, the earpieces behind your ears. You scribbled in a notebook, tongue peeking out of the corner of your mouth, clearly 100% focused on whatever you were working on.

Wally's eyes softened and his heartbeat sped up. You were adorable.

Clearing his throat to announce himself, he climbed the bleachers and shuffled across the middle bench to take a seat beside you.

"Hey," He smiled, broad and hopefully not too eager.

Your head lifted and you smiled back.

Wally melted inside.

"Hi, Wally Clark," You said as you closed your notebook and shifted to give him your full attention. "Not practicing your free throws today?" You teased with a glint in your eye.

Wally ducked his head as he chuckled, "Nah, not today. I decided to leave that to the professionals."

"Mm, yeah, that might be for the best," And then, fixing him with a cheeky grin, "You know, if dodgeball ever becomes a recognized sport, you should totally join a team."

Wally pressed his lips together, doing his best to hide how big his smile would be otherwise, before he glanced at you with a raised brow, "Oh. So, you're funny?"

You giggled like sweet melody, "Let's call it observant."

He released his smile, heart fluttering in his chest, eyes flickering across your face to take in every detail. There was something in him—a magnet behind his ribs—that drew Wally toward you. He couldn't explain it. Barely knew you enough to label it as more than attraction, but it was more. His gaze dipped to your lips, traced the shape of your smile, then skirted back up to meet your eyes.

"Alright, let's call it observant." He agreed, his smile somehow widening.

After a moment of comfortable silence, "Your feints are getting better," you commented, "I can't predict which way you're gonna go anymore."

And he positively preened; spine straight, chest puffed out, proud to have earned your admiration. Maybe that's what'd always been missing. He'd never had to work for it, everyone throwing themselves at his feet just for a split second of his attention. Wally had always been approached, never had to do the approaching.

Was that the thrill of the chase?

No. Of course not. You weren't the deer to his crosshairs. But he had to admit, it was nice that he could trust you weren't talking to him to get something out of it. Which is probably why, before he could stop himself, Wally blurted:

"Do you wanna hang out tomorrow?"

You seemed surprised, brows shooting up. Still, your smile remained and, with a chuckle, you nodded, "That would be nice." And then, eyes narrowing, "Nowhere that involves you having to throw things, though, right?"

Hand to his heart, "I'll save it for the field," Wally promised, suddenly feeling giddy and overwhelmed. He had to resist the urge to bite his lip in excitement. Raked his fingers through his hair and glanced bashfully away to compose himself.

"Very appreciated." You bumped your shoulder against his arm.

The brief contact ignited a thousand butterflies to take flight in his belly. He stood, gathered his sports bag and beamed down at you. You looked back, all cute and sweet and appearing nowhere near as affected as Wally felt which made him feel a little silly for the intensity of his body's reactions to you.

"How about the arcade...around 3?" He suggested, putting as much confidence behind his words as he could.

After a moment's thought, "Can we make it in the evening? Say around 6?" You asked.

"Yeah," Wally replied, "Yeah, we can make it 6." He took a couple of backward steps, "I can pick you up at your place."

You shook your head, "I'll meet you there."

"Great, it's a date," He nearly choked when he registered what he'd said, face absolutely flaming, though he didn't take it back. He almost tripped over his own feet when you didn't correct him.

Instead, all you said was, "Can't wait."

You didn't see it—God, he hoped you didn't see it—but as soon as he was off the bleachers and a good enough distance away, Wally fist pumped, practically vibrating out of his skin. Holy crap, he was going on a date with you! He was going to spend time with you, get to know you, connect with you the way he'd always wanted to connect with someone outside of Rodney, Don, and Keith.

It was only when he was in his car and on his way home to shower that he realized he still didn't know your name.

He could hear Rodney's eyeroll from there.

‗•‗

You'd noticed Wally from the start. It was difficult not to, the guy a high-rise human, towering over most of the student body. But, it wasn't just his physical presence. Nor was it how good he was at attracting attention on and off the field with his exuberance and abundance of energy.

It was the moments between the jokes he made with his friends. Between performing for the crowd when he led the Devils to victory. The somber, introspective moments he thought he had to himself. And he did, for the most part. You'd never meant to intrude. It just so happened that he often used the same spaces you did to find peace.

You weren't surprised that he hadn't noticed you before he'd lodged a basketball at your head. Few people did. Not bitterly; that was just simply how things had befallen you and you'd learned to adjust. In fact, you had approximately two people you considered close and had realized that was more than enough. Still, you enjoyed meeting people where you could. They were fascinating. And, these days, none were so fascinating as Wally Clark.

He had hands that swallowed whatever they held; a smile that brightened a room; and eyes that made your skin tingle, their gaze soulful and heavy whenever they landed on you at his games like a prize. You craved those eyes on you, a flower to sunlight, and were excited beyond measure that you'd have them all to yourself for a night.

When he'd asked you out, it'd taken everything in your power not to kick your feet and giggle in delight. Be cool, you'd told yourself, acting as though you hadn't been daydreaming about Wally Clark since you'd first heard his name in the halls. What you wouldn't have given to spend more of Saturday with him, but things were somewhat strange for you, and you'd had to shave the hours down.

As restrictive as it was, you were only able to go out when the town was sleepier. The streets less crowded, the energy laggard; the shadows darker and the moon visible. You had hard rules to follow, but after sundown, you had freedom you didn't otherwise have. You could sneak out unnoticed and do as you pleased so long as you were back before sunrise.

It sucked, but it was what it was and there was nothing you could do about it, so you'd set the time for your date with Wally later and hoped you'd be satisfied with the hours you and he did get to be together.

When you arrived at the arcade, Wally was already there, leaning against the exterior wall, hands shoved in his pockets, his expression transforming from teen mag sultry to puppy bright when he caught sight of you. Don't squeal, don't squeal, don't squeal—you did great, kid—you waved sweetly and took measured steps toward him, matching his expression with a happy one of your own.

"Hey, you made it," Wally said as if he'd been worried you'd flake.

"Like I'd miss the chance to kick your ass at Space Invaders." You scoffed, hands on your hips as you pinned him with a challenging look.

Wally laughed and the sound when straight to your chest, settled between your ribs, and you knew your eyes were likely doing something dreamy and dazed. If he noticed, he didn't comment; held out his arm like a gentleman and escorted you inside.

You did, in fact, kick his ass at Space Invaders.

‗•‗

Whatever, you may have beaten him at Space Invaders, but Wally wiped the floor with you at Time Pilot. To further impress you with his skills, he won you a prize from the claw crane. Overlooking the fact that it'd taken several coins and a lot of cursing, Wally felt like the king of the world having handed over a plastic ball stuffed with enough raffle tickets that you could take home a plastic necklace.

He looked for any and every opportunity to touch you; grazed the back of his hand across yours, then, bolder, squeezed you into his side as you and he moved between machines. Just as you were about to beat his score at Pac Man, he grabbed you around the waist and spun you away from the control panel, watching in triumph when the monitor announced Game Over and Wally's score beat yours by more points than you could come back from.

You shrieked and giggled when he slung you over his shoulder to carry you to the new air hockey table. You sprung into his arms when he defended your honor at the foosball table against another pair of patrons. By the end of the night, he had your hand in his, fingers laced, as he walked you home.

It'd been the most fun he'd had in—God—forever. Yeah, he hung out with the guys, went camping and played videogames and did things. Always busy, always entertained. Or, rather, he did the entertaining. A constant performance to keep people interested. Tonight, with you, it'd been different. He was relaxed, completely at ease, feeling like himself for the first time in too many years. His chest felt lighter.

When you and he reached your house, not too far from the arcade, you stopped and positioned yourself to face him, beautiful smile on your face that softened under his gaze. He didn't want tonight to end. Wished it could go on through tomorrow and the next day and the one after that.

"This was a lot of fun, Wally," You murmured as you stepped closer, bottom lip caught between your teeth in a way that made his heartrate spike and his head foggy.

He nodded, "Yeah," and lifted a hand to trail his fingertips along the slope of your jaw, "I wanna do it again, like, now."

You chuckled, and when did your lips get so close to his? "You just wanna try and beat my Donkey Kong score." You accused, breath hitching when the tip of his nose grazed your cheek.

Wally couldn't refute that, but didn't want to, his mind already on other things. Better things. Things like—his lips brushed yours, soft and gentle at first, testing the waters, and when you gasped so prettily, he pressed in. Kissed you slow, his hand climbing to rest on the back of your head to angle you just right. The kiss let in and took out, over and over, until Wally was breathless and dizzy.

He kept you there, one hand trailing down your side to your hip, the other tangling in your hair, for what felt like hours though it must've only been several minutes. He couldn't let go. Couldn't stop. Your tongue against his the most incredible thing he'd ever tasted.

But, eventually, you had to pull away, "It's late."

He kissed you one more time for the road, watched you stealthily maneuver around the side of your house and disappear around the corner, probably to sneak back into your room before anyone realized you'd been gone. Something about the fact that you'd risked getting in trouble for him thrilled Wally.

Once you were out of sight, Wally turned in the direction of home, an obvious bounce in his step as he replayed the night—the kiss, how your lips had yielded under his—on a loop.

Again, it wasn't until much later that he remembered he still hadn't asked for your name.

Fuck.

‗•‗

In typical 1980s fashion, this movie had a montage that Wally revisited almost obsessively. Sure, things had progressed rather quickly between you and him; one minute you were the stranger he viciously—but not on purpose!—attacked with a ball, and the next you were every thought, desire, emotion, response Wally was capable of.

After sundown, like hoodlums, he took you to the roller rink and skated on legs made of Jell-O because you insisted you needed his limbs to support your stilted efforts. Except, as soon as a single-digit child cried his frustration, there you were, a professional ballerina on wheels, teaching the child how to balance and move. You weren't even sheepish when you fessed up to the ruse.

"I like how it feels," You said simply, shrugged, and tucked yourself into Wally's side to prove the point, "You feel safe."

Yeah, Wally couldn't argue to save his life, addicted to how you felt in his arms as much as you seemed drawn to be there. You and he danced under the colored lights, spun and chased and discoed like divas, deliberately falling into each other at every chance. Wally didn't complain when you brought him to the ground with you after a miscalculated dip.

Days later, you and he jumped and screamed along to live music (the lyrics all totally wrong, but the melody right), crashing bodies pressing you together. Halfway through the concert, the surrounding mania receded as he rocked you gently, kissed you with meaning in the eye of a mosh pit; squawked when you poked his side to tickle him and then booked it through the crowd for an impromptu, wild game of hide-n-seek.

An empty movie theater for a screening of last year's horror films. Popcorn missiles thrown when he dared suggest Halloween was better than My Bloody Valentine. Finger to his lips, his hand firm around yours, crouched as he led you into another theater after the first movie. Four altogether, most of them ignored in favor of making out in the back row until an usher kicked you and Wally out for inappropriate behavior.

Heads close, toes pointed toward opposite walls, listening to Nebraska in a patch of moonlight on Wally's bedroom floor after a grueling week of exams and Wally's mama nagging him to get fitted for new skates before hockey season. He turned his head, admired your profile, lashes fanned on the arches of peach-blushed cheeks. His heart fluttered and his eyes softened as he watched you doze to the music. Between Used Cars and Open All Night, Wally propped himself on an elbow and kissed you upside-down. Chuckled when you nipped his chin and retaliated by adjusting his position, pinning you beneath his body, and kissing you senseless.

Throughout it all, you never missed a game, football or hockey or lacrosse. You'd put an end to the scavenger hunt, now a pillar of motivation—front row, center—and waved that glittery poster with an enthusiasm that outshone his mama's. The new arrangement made it easier for Wally, sweaty and hot, to leap over the barrier and lift and twirl you after each victory. Or, alternatively, for you to hurdle into his arms to comfort and reassure him after each loss.

Over the summer, Wally reminisced fondly on his junior year and everything you and he had done together. He missed you, a deep ache in his heart while your family apparently traveled for the months between school years. You wrote letters and used payphones to speak to him every Wednesday and Saturday, and it helped sustain him until you returned, but, God, he couldn't wait to see you again. To have you cuddled against him on the couch or in his lap on the bleachers at lunch or under him in his bed.

He craved you like a bad habit. Your scent, your touch, your taste. The soft affection you and he traded; lips stamped to a shoulder, fingers carding through each other's hair. How Wally held you, arm banded around your chest, hand under your chin to angle your face up so he could kiss you from behind.

Soon, he reminded himself. Three more days and he'd have his girl at his side again.

His girl whose name continued to elude him.

‗•‗

The night of the '83 Homecoming game, Wally felt a dread unlike he'd ever felt before. A lump of lead in his stomach. He had you in his lap. Light, gentle brushes of his lips memorized the shape of your neck and jaw, his arms tight around you, as you helped distract him from his uncharacteristic pre-game nerves.

"I'll be right there, Wally Clark," You promised with a sweet smile.

And you were. In the seat beside his mama when the crack of bone echoed across the stadium like thunder.

He spent the following weeks oscillating between grief and rage, too consumed by the confusion and fear and loss of his own life to find the strength to seek you out. He didn't want to know how you handled it. Him. His no-longer-thereness. If you were as deeply sad as he was or if you could move on and make it through. Wally didn't think he could handle it if he saw you smile again if he wasn't responsible for it.

Eventually, though, he couldn't deny it anymore. Had to see you. That magnetic pull led him to find you outside, basking in the December sun, no jacket, laying across the middle bench on the bleachers that overlooked the field behind the school.

He climbed up and took a quiet seat beside you. You didn't look any different. Serene, in fact, as you lay there, your notebook rested on the bench above. Wally sighed heavily, traced the air around your cheek as his breath choked and his heart shattered. He had so much he wanted to say to you, but didn't know where to begin—I miss you, I wish I didn't die, I need to hold you again. Sentiments that didn't make a difference anymore. He gazed at your notebook and wondered if you'd written anything about him.

And then, to his surprise:

"I was wondering how long it would take before you'd come find me."

His eyes whipped to you and he saw you staring upside-down at him, neck craned back slightly and a warm grin on your face.

"Y-you can see me!?" Wally gaped as you sat up and scooched closer to him.

"Of course I can." You said so easily that Wally had to think for a second if he was supposed to understand how it was possible. No one else had been able to see him, hear him, feel him.

"...how?"

You giggled, the sound a boon to his despairing soul, "Being dead isn't so bad, you know. I mean, it sucks, but you get used to it pretty quick." Taking his hand in yours, fingers laced, "And, when the memory of you starts to fade, you start to absorb the insane amount of teen angst." You snorted at something Wally assumed was supposed to be funny. "Makes you solid for awhile. You'll even be able leave the school at night which I'd consider something to look forward to, no?"

"I guess," Wally wheezed as his brain tried desperately to catch up to what was happening. He stared at you, bewildered, lost, hopeful, elated, "You're dead?" One, two beats, "You were dead the whole time?"

You smiled and nodded, leaned away from him to hold out your other hand for him to shake. That's when he heard it for the first time, your name, the syllables like angelic melody to his ears. You added, "Class of '57. Nice to meet you."

"But...I walked you home. I saw your house."

"You saw a house." You corrected.

He couldn't believe it. You were dead. You were like Wally. You were with Wally.

Without hesitation, Wally scooped you into his arms and kissed you like he'd wanted to since he'd risen from his body. He soaked up all the comfort and reassurance and love you offered with your lips. The idea of eternity no longer seemed so permanent and awful if you were in it.

You pulled away just enough to bump the tip of your nose against his, that smile he adored melting every worry and fear that'd followed him off the field.

"So, how do you wanna spend your afterlife, Wally Clark? We could play dodgeball now that you know you can't actually hurt me."

He felt a grin form, wide and joyful, and answered, "However you want." After a soft lull that Wally used to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and cup your cheek, "I just wanna spend it with you." His girl, whose name he would treasure forever in his heart.

🏈___________fin.____________

also on AO3!

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if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Cuddle Bug.

fluff. smut lite. a flashfic exploration of Wally's inability to be anything but a plural image when you're within reach. aka: he's codependent as fuck and neither you nor he care.

[hoe4hotchner]

Friday night lights | [A.H]

Pairing: Country boy!Hotch x City girl!reader | WC: 1.7k | CW: Fluff, song fic, small town x big city, American football

A/N: Just an FYI I know nothing about american football at all and all terms used in this is a result of my google telling me technical terms and what they mean, so if they're used wrong I ask you to look the other way heheh

It wasn’t hard to spot you in the stands, even with the crowd packed shoulder-to-shoulder along the weathered bleachers of the local high school. Dressed in a sleek black coat and boots better suited for the city streets, you stood out like a sore thumb amongst the denim jeans, battered baseball caps, and Carhartt jackets. Yet, you didn’t seem to mind.

Hotch leaned against the chain-link fence near the field, arms folded across his chest, his work-worn boots crunching on the gravel beneath him. His lips twitched into a smile as his eyes caught yours, scanning the sea of faces until they landed on him. You gave him a little wave, your gloved fingers barely visible in the bright glare of the floodlights, and he nodded back, the warmth spreading from his chest outwards.

Aaron Hotchner had lived in this small town his entire life, and in a way, this field was a part of him. Every Friday night growing up, he’d sat in these stands, cheering until his voice was hoarse, dreaming of someday being the one to make the crowd roar. He had tried out for the team in high school but found that playing the sport was not as fun as watching a game. Hotch had instead become one of the best track and field runners of his time at the school.

Football wasn’t just a sport here — it was the community's pulse. It brought people together, week after week, under the lights and the rhythmic tones of the marching band.

This night was no different. The bleachers were full, blankets draped over laps, hot drinks in gloved hands. The air carried the unmistakable crispness of fall that you didn't get to experience much in the city. Every now and then, the cold bit through his jacket, but it was nothing compared to the energy of the crowd.

“C’mon, kid,” someone near him muttered, their eyes fixed on the second-string quarterback standing in the huddle.

Hotch followed their gaze. The young quarterback — barely more than a boy — looked tense as he wiped his hands nervously on his jersey. The starting QB had gone down in the second quarter, and now this kid, who rarely saw more than the sidelines, was being asked to carry the weight of the entire game.

With less than thirty seconds on the clock and the team down by four, the coach had called a Hail Mary. It was risky and desperate, but it was the only play they had.

Hotch could feel the tension ripple through the crowd, every eye locked on the field. The quarterback jogged to the line of scrimmage, calling out a snap count with a voice that barely carried over the noise of the stands. The ball snapped back to him, and he dropped into the pocket, his eyes scanning the field.

The roar of the crowd seemed to fade as time slowed. Hotch watched the boy wind up and let the ball fly, a perfect spiral cutting through the air. It sailed high, arching over the heads of defenders and receivers alike.

Everyone held their breath.

The ball came down in the end zone, right into the hands of a sprinting receiver.

For a moment, there was silence as you moved through the crowd, wanting to be by your boyfriend's side. Then, the stadium erupted. Cheers and screams filled the air as the team stormed the field. The receiver, clutching the ball tightly, was mobbed by his teammates. The young quarterback stood frozen, staring at the scoreboard before breaking into a grin so wide it was visible even from the stands.

Beside him, you let out a laugh of pure delight, clapping your hands as you turned to Hotch.

“That was incredible!” you exclaimed, your cheeks flushed from the cold.

The young quarterback was hoisted onto the shoulders of his teammates, his grin even wider now as he waved to the cheering crowd. Hotch glanced at you, the sparkle in your eyes making his chest tighten.

This wasn’t your world. It wasn’t the bustling city streets you knew so well, with their late-night diners and endless streams of people. Truly a city that never slept. It wasn’t the place where you felt most at home. But here you were, bundled up in the bleachers of a football game, sharing in the joy of a kid you didn’t know throwing the pass of his life.

You were trying to understand this world — for him.

As the crowd began to disperse, Hotch pushed off the fence and turned to you.

“Well?” you asked, slipping your hands into the pockets of your coat. “How’d the kid do?”

“He just made himself a legend,” Hotch replied, his voice full of pride.

“Guess I picked a good night to come, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking down at you. “You did.”

You looped your arm through his, leaning into him for warmth as you walked toward the parking lot. The lights of the field still shone brightly behind you, illuminating the faint clouds of breath in the air.

“I think I get it now,” you said quietly after a moment.

“Get what?”

“This,” you replied, gesturing vaguely toward the field. “Why it matters so much to you. It’s not just a game, is it?”

Hotch shook his head, his lips quirking into a small smile. “It’s more than that. It’s… home.”

You nodded, resting your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked to his truck in comfortable silence.

The barn door creaked as Hotch pushed it open, the late morning sun streaking in behind him. Dust particles danced in the golden light, settling on bales of hay stacked neatly along one side. He paused for a moment, surveying the scene, then walked in, his boots echoing softly against the wooden floor.

From your spot leaning against the fence outside, you watched him with admiration. His broad shoulders were framed perfectly by the sunlight streaming in through the open door. He moved with purpose, rolling up his sleeves as he reached for a tool hanging on the wall.

“This place belonged to my granddad,” he’d told you one evening not long after you visited the town for the first time. “He left it to me when he passed. Everyone thought I’d sell it, maybe head somewhere bigger… but I couldn’t let it go.”

At the time, you hadn’t fully understood why. The farm was a sprawling stretch of land with fences that always seemed to need mending and animals that required constant care. The house itself was small and worn, the kind of place you’d never dreamed of calling home back in the city. In fact, you would've turned your nose up at the mere offer to live in a place like this if you hadn't met him.

But as the months went by, you started to see it through his eyes. The cracked paint on the barn doors wasn’t just a sign of wear — it was a piece of history, a reminder of the generations that had worked the land before him. The wide fields, stretching endlessly under an open sky, were more than a view — they were a canvas for his hard work and dreams.

Hotch poured himself into the farm with a determination that left you breathless. From sunup to sundown, he worked tirelessly, baling hay, tending to the animals, fixing machinery, and planting crops. When the debts his granddad had left behind threatened to swallow him whole, he didn’t back down. Instead, he fought harder, learning as he went, year by year until he finally paid them off.

Now, the farm thrived under his care. The barn was bustling with life, the fields were fertile and green, and the small-town skeptics who once whispered doubts now spoke his name with respect.

The barn door creaked again as he stepped back out, wiping his hands on a rag. His dark hair was mussed, and there was a streak of dirt across his cheek, evidence of another morning spent knee-deep in hard work. When his eyes found yours, a small smile tugged at his lips.

“You’re staring,” he teased, leaning against the fence beside you.

“Can you blame me?” you shot back with a grin. “It’s not every day I see a man single-handedly outworking half the county.”

Hotch chuckled, the sound was low and warm, settling in your chest. “It’s not every day I’ve got someone like you cheering me on.”

You reached for his hand, slipping your fingers between his and giving it a gentle squeeze. His palm was calloused.

At first, moving here had been an adjustment. The slow pace of life, the way neighbors showed up unannounced with casseroles and unsolicited advice — it had been overwhelming. And yet, with Hotch by your side, it didn’t feel so foreign anymore.

“Are you sure you’re not getting tired of all this?” he asked softly, his eyes scanning your face.

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I think I’m starting to love it.”

The breeze picked up, carrying the scent of freshly cut hay and wildflowers. Around you, the quiet of the countryside filled the air — the soft clucking of hens in the coop, the distant whinny of a horse in the pasture, and the rustle of leaves in the wind.

“This place is a part of you,” you said after a moment. “And if I’m being honest, it’s becoming a part of me, too.”

Hotch turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with something that felt a lot like home. Because that’s what this was becoming — not just his history, but yours, too. Together, you were building something that went deeper than roots in the soil. It was in the way he smiled when he caught you watching him, in the evenings spent side by side on the porch, and in the shared dreams of a life that felt simple but full.

As the two of you stood there by the fence, hand in hand, the future stretched out before you — wide and open. Now you just had to convince him to let you adopt 100 dogs that you could run around and play with while he worked.

[loserlvrss]

𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ｡ ｡ 엑스디너리 히어로즈 as dads

( 一月 ). 오티식스｡𝓕!reader warn. ment. of babies / kids & being pregnant 1760THOUheadcanon fluff established relationship

요구? yes/no : zanna, axe & ashley xx

────GOO GUNIL ( 구건일 )

Gunil could go either way in terms of being a boy or girl dad but, lowkey he’s a boy dad.

Let’s be honest, Gunil gives bbq!dad playing football with his son while you make lemonade in the kitchen. He’s so baseball hat dad coded.

He wanted kids immediately after you started dating (which didn’t happen).

Was involved 110% in the pregnancy but was so scared of the delivery. Cried when you told him you guys were gonna have a baby.

FORT-BUILDER #1. Buys a projector just so they can watch their favorite shows (with him of course) in it.

Loser!dad but, in an endearing way. He’ll say stupid dad-jokes that are only a little funny to your kid and they’ll still laugh at them (even when they’re teenagers) because it’s their dad type of way.

Number one supporter of whatever your kid wants to do in the future. Will also let them change their mind six billion times with a smile on his face.

Truly the best father. Most reliable and will always be there for them whenever they need it. The car broke down at 3am? He’s dragging himself out of bed to go get them. First breakup? He’s taking them to the store to buy all their comfort snacks. WiFi’s slow? He’s restarting the router. Spider? It’s being put outside immediately. Anything they want and he’ll come running because he just loves them that much.

Gunil was truly born to be a dad. Although, he wouldn’t have found it to be a deal breaker if you didn’t want any, because he respects your choice and loves you more than himself, however he’d be a little sad.

────KIM JUNGSU ( 김정수 )

Jungsu is a boy dad through and through. But, hear me out, he’d love a daughter and would NOT be upset if he got one, but you’re really the only special girl in his heart—until you’re replaced by a mini version of yourself.

He was meant to be a family man so, expect more kids in the future. About three, if not four, probably.

You told him you were pregnant and he proposed right away. You were actually not allowed to leave his side.

He treated you like royalty (and still does) when you were pregnant with his kid; got you anything you wanted, kept the house at a reasonable temperature, went to all the appointments with you. It’s almost as if he was the one carrying the child to be honest.

It seems you thank God for this man as their father everyday.

Jungsu also really had a soft spot for how you looked pregnant with his kid (in a sfw way), he just thought you were so cute. You’d also often wear his clothes instead of your own because they were more comfortable.

After the kid was born it was love at first sight—a smile pressed to his face and never left.

Actually, he asks if you want to have another just about every hour. He even proposed you had another right after the first was born—you were barely out the hospital.

Was the most attentive new!parent, always tended to your baby when they’d cry in the middle of the night—would also end up falling asleep next to them because he found them so adorable and couldn’t take his eyes off them.

Speaking of, Jungsu would be the type of dad that would be overwhelmed by how cute the kid is. He pinches their cheeks ALL the time. Tells you how cute they are whenever he gets the chance. Gushes over every little (new and old) thing that they do. He’s truly obsessed.

────KWAK JISEOK ( 곽지석 )

Jiseok needs twins, it’s non-negotiable. He would love one of each, but would definitely end up with either two boys or two girls.

You will end up having lots of kids because let’s be real, he suits being a dad to a ton of kids.

Even if you asked, Jiseok would actually not have a favorite between the two—there’s enough love in his heart for about 1600 more, he says.

He’s also so stay-at-home dad coded.

He’s the most unserious parent. He would try and carry them on each arm like a balancing act and make you anxious. But then, he’d also do bicep curls with them just to see you laugh.

Was scared to break them at first because they were so small, but now he play-wrestles them both at the same time.

He couldn’t wait for them to walk so he could play chase with them around the house like little ducks.

Speaking of ducks, Jiseok is the #1 bath time supporter, and refers to himself as “rubber duck” to get them into it. He even made up a song so that it would be fun.

Jiseok is a high-energy dad, sometimes they wear out before he does.

FORT-BUILDER #2. You often find their room in a state because your husband has built them, yet again, another fort.

He’s the type of dad who teaches them computer games early on because he’s a nerd (they started with Minecraft and named a dog after you). He also teaches them guitar, even as their hands aren’t big enough to play more than one (half) a cord.

────OH SEUNGMIN ( 오승민 )

Oh Seungmin is a girl dad. Do not argue. Did yall see him with Seola? Now imagine that’s actually his. He would never put her down, you’d actually have to fight to get to hold your baby.

Already had a billion girl names picked out before you knew the gender because he was SURE. What can I say? He was just destined to have a daughter.

However, either way (girl or boy) the kid would be loved and super spoiled.

Wants about 100 more once he sees them but has trouble imagining having to share his attention—he’s already so obsessed with just the first.

While you were pregnant, Seungmin would talk to your bump and would refer to the kid as, “his little princess” because, once again, GIRL.DAD. (it’s canon).

Seungmin acquired so many (DIY) skills as a dad because whatever they asked for he’d try his best to give them.

The #1 involved dad. Recital? He’s in the front row. They want to take pottery? He’s googling classes. They want purple hair? He’s already asking you (as the gloves are being put on). They want McDonald’s ice cream at midnight? They’re already buckled up. Whatever, and I mean whatever they want, they’re getting.

Seungmin would also have your kid FITTED TF UP. Drip or drown: baby addition. He’d make video ootd’s and send them to you while you were at work.

He actually vlogs his days out with them and sends them to you so you don’t feel left out, because he cared about you first (and still does).

They always come home with a new outfit. What can he say, the kids shoe game is going to be strong.

────HAN HYEONGJUN ( 한형준 )

Hyeongjun would love either a boy or girl, but has a special place in his heart for a daughter.

Hyeongjun was and still is the most gentle father and husband. He took care of you before, during and after the pregnancy. And then he especially took care of your kid, literally NEVER letting them cry for more than a couple minutes (even after they were able to take care of themself).

He’s not someone looking to have more than two kids to be honest, and if your first is hyperactive, he might even settle for one (however, he’d like them to have a sibling to grow up with).

He cried when he first saw them and was shy, then he picked them up and never put them back down.

Hyeongjun got better at being a dad—he was never bad, it was just a little rough at first because he was unsure of what to do.

Hyeongjun also teaches them non-conformative roles; i.e gender stereotypes. His kids are wearing whatever they think looks pretty—just like their dad.

He would also teach them to be little rockstars, putting on shows in your living room.

He would have matching hair (mostly pigtails) with his daughter and would come running in to show you each and every time because he’s proud of his masterpiece—they’re lopsided.

Paints their nails together, and leaves the pink mess around his cuticles because HIS kid did that.

They’re actually inseparable by the way so, have fun being the second-favorite parent.

On a more serious note though: he thanks you everyday for giving him his little best friend.

────LEE JOOYEON ( 이주연 )

Jooyeon is a boy dad first, because he needs someone to match his energy—wrestling and running around—but once he has a girl he’ll never go back.

He needs like four kids and he’ll be happy but, if you don’t want any more he’ll settle for one and still be happy.

Despite being unserious dad #2, he’ll make sure his kids know they can go to him for anything. You know that too, as he was always attentive with you.

After the kid was born Jooyeon became so easily attached, always up in its little personal space.

Kisses for you, kisses for them.

He actually thinks he died when you put the first tiny outfit on them (the onesies with closed hands and feet and a warm hat) to take them home from the hospital.

Jooyeon is also a menace to society, so having more than one of them means you’re going to have drawings on your walls and a messy house BUT, you also get cute pictures for the fridge—some your husband drew—and memories to last a lifetime.

So incredibly loser!core gamer!dad but they LOVE him. I mean, how could they not?

He plays dress up with his daughter, and lets her do his makeup; he ends up looking like a clown but doesn’t take it off even after they’re done playing.

He also plays dress to impress (or whatever the not cancelled one is called) with his daughter and buys her robux.

He’ll play computer / video games with his son (definitely got him to play league).

Jooyeon is the type of dad to give them ice-cream for dinner (he definitely made them vegetable haters).

He’s definitely the type of dad to say “don’t tell mom” before doing most things, and acts innocent with them when you find out.

Expect them to gang-up on you. Spoiler: you’re never winning an argument if their dad is involved.

© loserlvrss 2025. 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱. click4more

networks : @blossomnet @starlit-network @k-films @kstrucknet @slytherinshua @saxytalks @mystarsohee @seomisaho @jihyokat @oc3anfloor @atzlordz @gyuwrites @blue-jisungs @jooillusion

[marvelstoriesepic]

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ New series poll part 2 ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Alright, babes!! I am currently plotting out a new series idea for college athlete!Bucky x Reader with an enemies to lovers vibe and I would love your input. ❤︎

Our Bucky is the cocky, charming, and ridiculously talented athlete in nyu. He’s confident, annoyingly attractive, and used to people falling for his flirting. Until you don’t. (Well not immediately lmao, but I guess you'll end up falling harder than any other girl before 👀)

Time to decide which sport he should play. Each sport gives him a different kind of edge, and I want your help picking the one that'll make your hearts race the most (or annoy the reader just enough to spark that slow-burn magic 🤭)

I am also running another poll on this series to decide who the reader is exactly (cheerleader; art student; music major/singer; law student; student journalist; sorority president), and since tumblr won’t allow me to add two polls in one post I will share them separately and link the other on here.

Staring off, here are a few options I am thinking about and could see myself writing for:

I've already written him as baseball player in my one-shot Change your mind and my other one-shot Supposed Distraction. I've also mentioned him being a football player in my one-shot Two. And I had so much fun with both versions!! I’ve never written him as a Hockey player before, and I have to say, I’m itching to try it. So even if Hockey doesn’t win this poll, there is a high chance I’ll sneak that into a future project anyway 🫶🏻

Greetings and Kisses ❤︎❤︎

[soupiestzilla]

So im gonna prove to you the toons are overreacting and show you how to K.O every twisted (mostly)

Take no offense. If you take offense i will assume you are a twisted on some alt account. Its ok ill make it funny we all win

1 : Folded like a lawn chair

And so it begins

This is just the category for all the easy wins.

One word

thumb tack.

Look at him. Get thumb tacked.

One rock to the perishable delicate china glass ass face and its over All it takes for these guys is a pin a rock and one good throwing arm Nuff said.

2 : May throw hands

Ok so. Maybe. But still its going down

could feather dust you with malicious intent???? Idk just punt her like a football i think ur good

Big old ichor claw maybe. But hes still a baked good. All it takes is one glass of warm milk and hes changing states of matter

Lure her to the nearest unsuspecting birthday party and watch it go down ultrakill style

They look rabid. But aint no goofy ass smile gonna save them from a baseball bat to the already goopy brain. Make them taste sound. Hear colour.

Have you ever seen a crocodile be subdued. Like you sit on it and tape its mouth shut

That is the strategy.

Its absolutely a 2v0 have you ever seen someone with this form win a fight

3: Oh ...got a lil kick to it

Now this. Maybe. You will have to lock in probably.

Now this may be controversial. But Listen. This guy punches holes through walls and tries killing looey every weekend for no reason. Now imagine hes got a gallon of ichor up his ass. There will be signs of struggle. Resistance even. But like. Bite him i guess. Hes still just a shrimp.

I mean ur opponent can fly. Thats definitely an inconvenience. But last i checked. Bug spray.

See hes got four arms. You'd think oh no four arms. True. Four arms is tuff.

But hes got ONE eye. You know how fucked that hand eye coordinations gotta be? Straight for the face show no mercy

Claws. Fangs. Conviniently sharpened face fluff. Bros got it all. But alas. He one of the good ones.

Let em wind up for that hug. Let em think hes winning. Let the enemy think its all hugs and sunshine. Then go batshit crazy probably. Strat.

4: We die like real men

Maybe if you were loaded. Strapped. Maybe. But its over

Have you ever tried fighting a boulder. A whole boulder.

Now imagine it became sentient with claws and fangs and started barking towards you at 230 ms–¹

You stand tall and take it like a champ.

Literally a dinosaur

Humble yourself

We are not winning against a dinosaur

At first i was like maybe we can win. Hes slow as hell. But the ichor tendrils did it for me

Try fighting slenderman mid kettle scream while hes raising his splatoon squid army from the ground you stand on

You can maybe show up with leaf trimmers. Pray to the pollen gods. Maybe he'll make it quick snd painless if you tell a joke. Will depend on the punchline

[oddinary4bts]

Be With You | ch 5

☆summary: who knew that the hot guy you've been paired with for a class project is also a kind soul? Certainly not you, and you feel yourself falling even though you know you shouldn't. Will it be your demise, or will it all work out in the end?

☆pairing: Choi San x female!reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: slow burn strangers to lovers, college!au, smut, angst and fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, cursing, talks about oc's ex (name reveal oop), explicit content: talks about oral sex (female receiving), nipple play, dry humping/grinding, jerking off, hickeys, basically a hell of a lot of grinding tbh, cumshot

☆word count: 8.2k

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here

☆a/n: another chapter for y'all :) and thank you to @moonleeai for your amazing work as my beta reader, I love you and am forever thankful for you <3

☆☆☆☆☆

Cold snowflakes Withered down Until you bloom As a spring flower I'll be with you

Be With You, Ateez (english translation)

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, October 5th

The park is warm, the breeze reminiscing of summer long gone. Though the leaves have been changing colours, a myriad of different shades of yellow, orange, red and green adorning the branches, you almost feel like summer might be coming back.

But the cold lingering in the shade is a clear indication that winter is coming in just a few months.

Today doesn’t really hint at that though. The park is crowded, music playing from the speaker of a group somewhere on your left, and people are bathing in the sun, sharing snacks and drinks as they sit in the grass, or some of them on blankets. You’re sitting on such a blanket, your lips spread in a smile as you listen to Wooyoung and San’s bickering next to you.

They’ve been at it for what must be twenty minutes now. Something about a sports game you haven’t watched and don’t really care for, but they are enthusiastic, waving their hands around as they speak. Their friend Jongho and his girlfriend Lyla are also here, and Lyla keeps jumping in occasionally to share what she thinks of it all.

“It’s football, for fuck’s sake,” Wooyoung says. “Why would they even…”

He never finishes his sentence, San interrupting, and you just laugh along with Jongho and Lyla as Wooyoung just glares at San, his eyebrows almost touching over his eyes.

Your phone buzzes on the blanket next to you, and you take a look at it, noticing you’ve received a message from Sydney. She’s supposed to meet you soon, and you’re excited to ask her about how it went with Yunho last night.

You’ve heard that they spent quite some time together, and you’ve been hoping that it cleared the air between the two of them, if only so that you can all start to hang out again without awkwardness lingering in the air.

[2:37 pm] Syd: where the fuck are you?

You snort, quickly typing back your reply.

[2:38 pm] You: by the baseball field

Sydney shoots back the thumbs up emoji, and you put your phone aside as you zero back in on the conversation. Surprisingly, they have stopped talking about football, and you listen as they talk about the upcoming midterms. 

“Should we eat?” Wooyoung asks, glancing at the cooler Jongho brought with sandwiches for all of you, and two bottles of rosé wine to share.

“Syd’s almost here,” you inform him.

He sighs loudly, but then everyone is distracted as Hongjoong and Yeosang show up, greeting the group. They brought snacks and spiked lemonade cans with them, so you all settle on one of those as you wait for Sydney, who arrives five minutes later, grumbling about not being able to find you.

To Wooyoung’s luck, you eat then - Sydney even brought some cookies for dessert - your group sharing lively conversation as time goes by. The sun keeps you all warm, hot even, and you enjoy the last of the warm days like that, playing frisbee in the field once you’ve eaten. It’s filled with loud laughs and screams, and you end up going back to the blanket where Yeosang and Hongjoong lingered, sitting with them as Sydney plays with the others.

San glances your way, and you think he’s frowning in the distance. But then Wooyoung screams at him, effectively distracting him, and you sit on the blanket, reaching for the open bag of chips.

“Long night yesterday?” Hongjoong teases.

Your eyes widen, and you shoot him a look. “What?”

“You went home with San, didn’t you?”

Red creeps on your cheeks, and you look towards the mentioned man. He’s throwing the frisbee, and it does a perfect arc, Jongho catching it effortlessly. 

“Huh, yeah.”

You figure there’s no need to lie - they all saw you walking out and not coming back yesterday.

Hongjoong smiles wide, glancing at your friends playing frisbee. “Good for you.”

Yeosang snorts, glancing at Hongjoong. “What the fuck was that?”

“San’s hot now,” Hongjoong replies, shrugging his shoulders.

You’ve never really thought about Hongjoong’s sexuality before, and realization dawns as Yeosang nods. “Can’t deny he’s been working out a lot.”

“Don’t you go with him?” Hongjoong asks then.

You tune out the conversation as you see Sydney walking towards you while the others linger on the field, Wooyoung screaming as San chases him with the frisbee in his hand as if he’s about to knock it on his friend’s head. It’s a funny sight, almost comical, and you smile as Wooyoung drops to the ground, protecting his head.

“They are way too competitive for me,” Sydney deadpans as she stops next to you. She glances at Hongjoong and Yeosang, her cheeks turning pink, and then she meets your gaze again. “Do you want to go for a walk around the park?”

You know what the question means - she has something to tell you. Excitement bubbles in your chest, and you’re up on your feet a second later, waving Yeosang and Hongjoong goodbye. 

Sydney hooks her arm with yours as you walk, and you notice San glancing your way as you move away, walking down the dirt path on the side of the field where they’re playing. He smiles at you, and you instinctively smile back, your brain not tuning in for Sydney’s first words.

You only notice she’s spoken when she pulls on your arm, saying, “Are you even listening?”

You clear your throat, your cheeks burning as you look away from San, focusing on the squirrel darting across the path a little further down. “Sorry, come again?”

“I…” Sydney trails off, letting out a small, shy chuckle. “I was with Yunho last night.”

You throw her a quick look, only met with her profile as her gaze remains stubbornly locked in on the end of the path. “I know.”

“No,” Sydney says. “Well, I mean, yes, but… but like no.”

You can’t help the laugh that falls from your lips. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“He walked me home,” Sydney admits.

As if he hasn’t done so countless times before.

“Yeah?” you press.

“I, huh…” You think you hear her gulp. “I invited him in.”

Oh. Oh.

“Oh my God. Did you fuck my brother?”

Sydney slaps your arm. “Why do you have to be so crude?”

Yet her embarrassed tone reveals everything her words haven’t.

“You did. You so did.”

“It wasn’t…” She wets her lips, searching for words. “It wasn’t like that.”

You can tell she has more to say, but she remains silent for a moment. This time you don’t press her, knowing that she needs to collect her thoughts before speaking, and so you finish walking down the field, turning towards the right where a small pond is rippled with tiny waves from the breeze.

“At first, I just wanted us to talk things out,” Sydney explains. “But then… then we kissed, and…”

Her silence is so long you figure she won’t speak. “And you fucked.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she groans. “We made… love, I guess?”

You almost squeal in happiness, supressing the will to jump up and down. “Finally!”

“Finally?”

“It took you so, so fucking long, Syd.”

Sydney frowns. “What do you mean?”

“You guys have been in love since like middle school.”

Your best friend lets go of your arm as she folds hers on her chest. “No?”

“Yes?” You laugh, shaking your head. “I am so, so happy you’ve finally opened your eyes.”

At that Sydney smiles softly, her gaze dropping to the ground. She’s the perfect picture of the maidens that you read about in books, long gone for their knights, and you’d laugh at the sight if she wasn’t so cute.

If you weren’t that happy for her and your brother.

“I’m happy too,” she says gently, and she meets your gaze with a sparkle to her eyes that makes you think true love does exist. “I hope it’s not weird for you.”

“Nah,” you immediately reassure her. “I’ve been waiting for a really long time for you to realize your feelings for each other.” You chuckle, thinking of all the times you’d tried to push them together, hoping that something would come out of it. “I’ve been rooting for you forever.”

Sydney rolls her eyes, though the smile does not leave her lips. “Shut up.”

“Never.” You grin, and then you glance at the ducks on the lake. “I’ll be your officiant at your wedding.”

“Woah, who said anything about a wedding,” Sydney says with a laugh.

“Syd.” Your tone is almost scolding, like a reprimand is about to emerge from your lips. “We both know that you and Yunho will get married the second we’re out of college.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Yeah, yeah.”

But the blush on her cheeks tells you that it’s a possibility she’s probably considered herself ever since yesterday. She’s always wanted to get married after all, unlike you.

Silence rises around the two of you, and you’re on your way back to the field when Sydney finally speaks up again.

“What about you?” she asks.

You think you can spy San in the distance when you answer, “What?”

“What happened with San last night?” she asks. 

You worry at your bottom lip, suddenly feeling nervous. You don’t quite know why - it’s not like San has given you any reason to be nervous when it comes to the two of you, even if you got jealous yesterday. But then again, you reckon the nervosity might be linked to someone else entirely, to a person that fucked your perspective of love so thoroughly that you thought you never wanted to let anyone in again after him.

Yet San… San’s been digging his way into your life, and you’re not sure if you’ll survive the vulnerability that it brings.

“We went to his,” you admit. Your eyes drop to the ground, and you look at some weed growing in the middle of the dirt path like it hasn’t been trampled countless times already.

It’s almost poetic, the way that it stands tall despite everything that’s happened to it.

“And we also talked,” you add. “He explained what was happening with Kate, and I apologized for getting jealous. He teased me about it…”

“Mmh,” Sydney lets out.

You cock an eyebrow. “What?”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Oh, it totally was good,” you reassure your friend. “It wasn’t mean, it was just… cute.” Sydney is smiling again when you look towards her. “What?”

“I just…” she trails off, slightly pursing your lips. “I’m relieved that you’re finally letting someone in again.”

Your throat dries out even though you had that exact thought just a few moments ago. “What do you mean?”

“After Jungkook,” Sydney starts, and you almost recoil at the sound of his name after so long. “Sorry,” your friend immediately apologizes.

“It’s okay.”

The words are bitter, but it is. It has to be okay, otherwise you’ll be back three years ago when you almost thought you would die.

“After him, I just didn’t think you’d be able to let someone in again. And it was hard to see how much you suffered from that.”

“I didn’t suffer from it,” you say defensively as a frown makes its way to your face. 

“Please don’t take this the wrong way. I really am just happy and proud of you.”

You stretch your lips in a tight line, falling silent. Sydney sighs next to you, but the mention of Jungkook just striked too deep for you to keep talking about this. Sydney’s your best friend for a reason though - she senses your unease, hooking her arm with yours again.

“Did you fuck San yesterday?”

The crude words falling from her mouth surprise you, dissipating the tension that was rising. You let out a small laugh, one Sydney seems far too relieved to hear, and then you say, “He ate me out. But he literally creamed his pants.”

“I did not need to know that,” Sydney grumbles.

“You’re the one that asked!” She just rolls her eyes as an answer, and you shake your head at her. “And you’re so worse, you literally fucked my brother.”

“Oh gosh, stop.” She groans, her cheeks flashing red. “I… I shouldn’t even have told you.”

“As if,” you let out, not taking offense with her statement even though it could have been perceived as rude. 

Sydney is just secretive, so you can’t blame her. You love her like that, and wouldn’t want her any other way anyway.

“Yeah, nah,” she says, and she joins you for a laugh. “I definitely wanted to tell you, but please, please do not make a big deal out of this. We’re slowly figuring it out.”

You nod, and you offer a small smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you guys figure it out at your own pace.” You fall silent, but then mischief sparks in your chest, and you add, “Even though it took you literal years to even get here.”

“You’re so annoying,” Sydney complains, and you just burst out laughing.

As you talked, you got closer to the group where they are gathered on the blankets, and you feel San’s heavy gaze on you. Your eyes find his, and for a moment, your earlier anxiety returns. But then he smiles and it fades away, and all you can hope for is that you’re not setting yourself up to get your barely healed heart broken again.

“What’s got you guys laughing?” San asks.

“Nothing,” Sydney quickly replies as she lets go of your arm, and then plops down on the blanket next to Lyla. “You guys opened the wine without us.”

“Y/n doesn’t drink,” Wooyoung points out as he takes a big sip from the red solo cup he’s holding. “So we figured it was fine.”

“What about me?” Sydney asks.

Lyla hands her a cup. “I got you, girl.”

Sydney beams as she takes a sip of the wine while you make your way towards San, sitting next to him.

“Hey,” he greets you as you’re adjusting yourself to be comfortable on the blanket.

You meet his gaze. His eyes are sparkling softly, like maybe the sun that’s sinking towards the horizon now is sinking into his eyes instead. “Hi.”

“You were gone for a while,” he says, just for you to hear, and you don’t miss the pouty tone to his voice.

“Missed me?” you tease.

He narrows his gaze, taking a sip from his solo cup. “Nah.”

You snort, nudging him with your elbow. “Yeah, yeah.”

He winks at you and then hands you the solo cup. “Do you want to taste?”

You think about it. You truly do, even if you haven’t tasted a drop of alcohol in years now. But then again San’s eyes are soft, his smile genuine, and you think why not?

“Just a tiny sip,” you agree, and his gaze widens in surprise. 

He hands you the cup, and you take it, electricity shooting up your fingers and along your arm as you graze his fingers. You bring the solo cup to your lips, tilting it just enough for your lip to dip in the rose liquid. The taste fills your mouth, and your nose scrunches up in reflex at the bitterness on your tongue.

“Ew,” you let out as you move the cup away from your lips, handing it back to San. 

He laughs at your expanse, taking a sip of his own. “It isn’t that bad.”

You cock an eyebrow. “It isn’t that good either.”

“Your loss.”

You widen your eyes before letting out a small disbelieving laugh. “You’re annoying.”

San leans in to speak in your ear. “That’s not what you were saying when I had my tongue in you yesterday.”

You choke on your saliva, coughing at San’s crude words. You pull away, cheeks burning, only for you to find him grinning at you crookedly. “San!” 

“Am I wrong?”

“Gosh, you so are.”

He leans in again, and this time you don’t turn your head to let him speak in your ear. Instead, you hold his gaze despite the close proximity, and your breath hitches in your throat.

“Maybe I should do it again tonight, mmh? To remind you how much you liked it?”

Your gaze drops to his lips. “If I remember correctly, you’re the one that creamed his pants, mmh?”

San winces as he laughs. “Touché. It was just…”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Wooyoung intervenes, and you instinctively pull away from San, cheeks red at being caught. You find yourself unable to reply as San just shrugs next to you, and Wooyoung narrows his gaze at you. “Alright then, keep your secrets.”

You share a look with San, and then you both burst out laughing.

The rest of the afternoon unfolds without a hitch, laughter and smiles and alcohol flowing amongst the friend group. San doesn’t drink too much - neither does Hongjoong, who admits he still feels hungover from the wine and cheese yesterday evening. The others don’t have that limit - it’s like they all are ready to party again, and you watch them from your corner of the blanket with San, who’s decided to use your lap as a pillow.

You only realize he’s fallen asleep while you card your fingers through his hair and Wooyoung looks at the two of you, fake-gagging. 

“He did not fall asleep,” Wooyoung deadpans.

You look down, and San’s serene expression makes you smile softly. “Leave him alone, he’s just tired.”

Wooyoung wiggles his eyebrows. “I wonder why.”

You roll your eyes as he bursts out laughing. San shifts on your lap, a frown creasing his brow, and you gently smooth it with the tip of your fingers. His lips spread in a tired smile, and it does something to your heart that you can’t explain, yet want to feel again.

It’s soft - San has a softness to him that can’t be described with words. It’s like the first sun rays in the morning, or the breeze of a summer afternoon. It’s like the brightness of the stars when the moon is away - twinkling gently, forever. Like the rise and fall of an infant’s chest as it rests peacefully. You’d go on and on trying to find comparisons, yet you’re unsure any of them would come close to explaining what San does to you.

The thought sticks with you until later that evening, when you all start parting ways. San wakes up slowly, wiping some drool on his chin as he blinks his eyes at you, gaze unfocused. It takes him a moment to understand where he is, and then he just smiles tiredly, sighing deeply.

“Good morning,” you tease him.

“Mmh.”

Wooyoung sneaks closer to you, pinching San’s side. San yelps, sitting up quickly as he curses Wooyoung, and your gaze widens as you watch them wrestling for a few seconds. But then you look up, meeting Sydney's gaze, and you both burst out laughing.

Boys will be boys, or whatever it is.

*****

“Are you sure?” San asks for the fifth time.

You’re standing outside of your building, and you’ve been trying to convince him to come in with you. It’s been getting chillier outside now that the sun has set, and though you’ve spent the whole day together, you don’t want him to go just yet.

“Yes, I am,” you insist, tugging on his hand, but he doesn’t budge.

“I don’t want to bother your brother.”

You roll your eyes. “Syd will take care of him.”

Sydney who’s standing by the door throws you a look at her name being called. She doesn’t say anything though, not when San smirks. “Oh, will she?”

Gosh.

“Come have dinner with us,” you say, and this time your voice holds finality, not giving him a choice. 

You turn around, pulling him behind you as Sydney waits with her cheeks tinted red from San’s words. You wink at her, and she chuckles as she opens the door, holding it for you as you walk in with San in tow. It doesn’t take you long before you’re in front of your own apartment, unlocking the door.

You find Yunho engrossed in some YouTube video he’s been watching on the TV, and there’s a moment of awkwardness as San walks in, standing by the door. Sydney saves you by heading to where Yunho is laying on the couch, and you kick off your shoes pulling San towards your bedroom.

“Hey, why don’t you guys come here?” Yunho asks.

You curse under your breath - not that you don’t want to spend time with your brother and Sydney, but you were kind of hoping you’d get to spend time alone with San.

You meet San’s gaze momentarily, and he just watches you with his mouth slightly open, as if he was caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. Your heart fills with warmth like it’s been doing all day, and then you tug him towards the living room. You drop your tote bag against the wall in front of the door on the way, and then make your way to the living room.

“Sure,” you say as you catch sight of Yunho sitting now, with Sydney next to him. “Just don’t tear into him.”

“Why would I?” Yunho says. “We’re friends.”

Right. Though you’re not sure you would call them friends just because they have a friend in common.

“What’s up?” Yunho throws at San.

“Not much, just got dragged here by your sister,” San answers, shrugging his shoulders.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Don’t act like you didn’t want to come here.”

He winks at you. “It’s hard to tell you no.”

You just shake your head playfully, lips curving into an amused smile before you look towards Yunho again.

“Wow,” is all Yunho says.

“What?”

“Did I just see you smiling at a man?”

“What the fuck?” you burst out as Sydney pushes him.

“Shut up, Yunho,” she tells him.

“Yeah, listen to your girlfriend, dumbass.”

Sydney turns fifteen different shades of red as Yunho’s gaze brightens, though blush tints his cheeks too. You sit on the couch next to Sydney, and San moves next to you, slowly sitting down. There’s another awkward silence that lingers until Yunho asks how the afternoon was, and you tell him about the park.

You don’t mention the conversation you had with Sydney, though. You keep that to yourself, instead telling him about the frisbee, and the wine, and the weather that hinted at summer. It breaks the ice, and soon conversation starts flowing between the four of you, almost as if San was always part of your little group.

You end up ordering Korean fried chicken for dinner, and you all eat sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table as you watch a movie Sydney recommended. It’s a good movie, and from the corner of your eyes, you notice how Sydney is cuddling into Yunho’s side. You can’t help your smile at the sight, relieved that they have finally made it to each other.

You’ve been dreaming of it for so long after all.

“They’re adorable,” San whispers in your ear. 

You nod, eyes sparkling as you meet his gaze. “I’m really happy for them.”

San’s lips spread in a soft smile as he looks between your eyes, his gaze then dropping to your mouth. Your throat feels suddenly dry, the space between the two of you filling with electricity, and you become aware that he’s just a hair's breadth away, close enough that you could brush your lips against his if only you moved an inch forward.

Though the gravity of him is strong, you resist, instead sitting back in your spot with your back against the couch. He chuckles, and then focuses on the movie again. He spreads his legs, his thigh pressing against yours. You’d curse him for it if your brother and best friend weren’t right next to you.

But two can play that game, can’t they?

So you press your thigh into his, slightly shifting so that you can angle your body towards him. You catch him smirking from the corner of your eyes as if that was what he wanted you to do, and so you decide to go further, your hand falling to his leg. It lands right next to the spot where you’re touching, and you feel San slightly tensing.

Especially as you start tracing idle shapes on his skin through the fabric of his pants. He spreads his legs even more, chasing the sensation. It emboldens you, so you lay your head on his shoulder. It brings you so close to him that you feel it when he takes his next breath, and you press your lips together to refrain from smiling smugly.

But you keep your hand on his thigh, idle circles getting closer to his dick with every slow pass. You try to make it as subtle as you can, and San gulps.

Right before you’re about to actually touch his dick, San leans in to speak into your hair, his voice so low you can barely hear him. “You should stop this before your brother notices.”

There’s something husky about the way he speaks, and desire floods your system. But all you do is wet your lips, your idle circles inching away from him this time. He doesn’t seem like he likes it - he moves, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest.

You blush. You blush even though the living room is dark except for the light coming from the TV, which is thankfully on a darker scene at the moment. But you blush as you’re keenly aware that Sydney shoots you a glance.

You’re not big on PDA. Have never been, yet you don’t shrug San off. Don’t try to move away. Not when his body is so warm and he moulds you into his side like you belong there. And for a fleeting moment, you allow yourself to think that you do.

That maybe you’re allowed to love again after your ex. It’s been years after all - it’s not like you believed you had to stay single for the rest of your life. You just never had a romantic interest for someone after Jungkook, especially not with how things ended. But San…

It’s just been so easy with him, even though it’s only been two weeks. Two weeks, yet you feel like a small eternity has passed. Maybe because of how natural it feels to be by his side.

The movie ends a little while later, with Sydney and Yunho cuddling on their side of the couch while you and San cuddle on yours. You move away from San first, stretching as Yunho turns off the movie at the beginning of the credits. Sydney imitates you a second later, though her stretch is accompanied by a yawn.

“I think I should go home for the night,” she says.

“Are you not sleeping over?” Yunho asks, and there’s a pout in his voice.

What a lovesick idiot.

“I don’t have my stuff,” she says, but you don’t miss the way she throws you and San a not-so subtle look.

Yunho misses it though. He frowns, looking towards you as if you’ll help. “You have a tooth brush here and you can use Y/n’s stuff for a shower.”

“Right,” Sydney lets out, and she glances at you with apology in her gaze.

You shrug your shoulders to reassure her, and then you glance at San. “Come.”

He cocks an eyebrow in question as you get up, hand extended for him to take. He glances at your hand, his fingers closing around yours just a heartbeat later. 

“Where are you bringing me, woman?”

His tone is teasing, and you just chuckle. “To my room… boy.”

“Hey, I’m not a boy!”

You laugh as he gets up. “Are you not? I didn’t think you were a girl.”

He rolls his eyes. “Gosh, you’re…” He trails off as if only then realizing that Yunho and Sydney are watching the two of you curiously. “A very nice lady,” he concludes, and you all burst out laughing.

“Good night, losers,” you tell Sydney and Yunho, and then you’re pulling San to your bedroom, with no interruption this time.

“Good night?” San repeats behind you. “We’re going to bed?”

“Unless you want to go home?” you say, though you don’t slow down, still tugging him towards your room, though you do stop on the way to grab your tote bag, still filled with everything you brought to San’s place yesterday night.

“I’m a little tired,” he says.

“Well then.” You open the door of your bedroom. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

He laughs, walking in before you. You follow him, turning on the lights - multiple strings of fairy lights with fake leaves intertwined hanging from the wall that your bed is pushed against. They work with an app on your phone, so you just turn them on that way, appreciating the soft glow that reigns on your room a second later.

You close the door as San scans your room. “This is small.”

“That’s all you have to say?” you let out, faking offense.

He chuckles. “I love it. Love the lights, and the plushie.”

Your eyes trail to your bed, on top of which rests the Winnie the Pooh plushie you got years ago when you went to Disney with your family.

“It’s adorable, isn’t it?”

San sits on your bed, grabbing the plushie. “Definitely.” He cuddles it to his chest, resting his chin on top of it. 

You smile, and dimples appear in his cheeks as you take a step closer to him. The sight of him in your bed, his eyes twinkling with barely concealed feelings you too have been feeling, is enough to make you pull on Winnie until he lets it go. You throw the plushie, making yourself at home between his legs as you cup his cheeks.

San gulps, tilting his head back to look you in the eyes as you lean in. You stop just an inch away from his mouth, looking between his two eyes repeatedly as if they host the answer to the Universe. 

And maybe they do. Maybe they hold the answers of the universe you live in. 

“I…” you whisper, and his gaze drops to your mouth.

“You?” he presses, voice breathy.

You don’t know. You don’t know what you wanted to say. So you continue with the only thing that makes sense, breathing out, “San.”

He says your name with the same reverence, and then you’re closing the distance between the two of you, pressing your lips on his. He sighs softly, moving to hold your waist as you gently brush his cheek with a thumb, your other hand shifting to the back of his head.

The kiss reveals an inner light in you that you thought had died with Jungkook. It reveals a land of endless possibilities, of vulnerability you don’t know if you’re ready to let in. Yet it’s knocking at your door, and when San swipes your bottom lip with his tongue, you know it’s too late to stop.

So you kiss him harder, deeper, meeting his tongue with yours until his grip tightens on you. Until your lungs run out of oxygen, and then you straddle his lap, never disconnecting your mouth from his. Because you don’t want to - tonight, Choi San is the oxygen in your lungs.

San caresses your back, one hand going up to hold the back of your neck as the other goes down, gripping at the meat of your ass. You let out a breathy sound that’s barely noticeable through the intensity of the moment, one you know will be repeated countless times tonight.

You don’t think you’ll be able to stop tonight. You want him - all of him, completely. 

You want to come undone, together with him.

You gently push him down until he’s lying on his back, your lips still dancing together, tongues mingling like you’re trying to drink his very essence. But then you sit back on him, breathing rapidly as your lungs seek for much needed oxygen. Just like him, whose chest is going up and down quickly as he watches you taking your shirt off, tossing it aside.

Your mouths collide with more intent then, passion taking over the two of you as San’s fingers aim for the clasp of your bra in your back. He fumbles with it for a few heartbeats until it comes undone, and then he gently slips your bra down your arms. You disconnect for a moment so that he can throw the piece of clothing to the floor, and then your lips are on his again.

It’s languid. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted - there’s danger in the speed at which you’re catching feelings, but it’s too late.

It’s too late, and you can’t bring yourself to care.

San’s large hands caress your sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as you tease his bottom lip with your teeth. He lets out a small groan, and then his hands move forward, finding your breasts. He massages them, pushing them together, and then his deft fingers find your nipples, gently squeezing them.

You moan. A light sound, one meant just for his ears, and then you’re sitting back on him again, just so that you can circle your hips with your core against his growing erection. His eyebrows bunch together, his lips parted on a silent sound you so wish you had heard, but one you know should remain silent.

Indeed, you can hear Sydney and Yunho talking in the living room, and the last thing you’d want would be for them to hear you having sex with San.

San says your name, a whisper that wraps around your heart like the warm embrace of a lover - something you’re realizing San might become to you - and then he grinds his hips in yours, his length rubbing on your core through the clothes.

It’s sinful, passionate, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I want you,” you say, echoing the words you said last night. “I really want you, San.”

He wets his lips, grinding on you again. “Do you have condoms?”

You freeze. You don’t - you’ve finished the box you owned a couple of months ago with a one night stand you met at a bar at the beginning of the summer. And you’ve never thought to buy more because you weren’t actively seeking to have sex after that.

“I…” you let out, and then you chuckle awkwardly. “I don’t. Don’t you have one?”

San winces, and then his mouth falls open as you circle your hips on him again. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath. “Fuck, Y/n.”

It’s the way he says your name. It takes all of its meaning in his mouth, and you lean forward to kiss him again. He meets every swipe of your tongue with a languid swipe of his, and your core warms up to an uncomfortable level. You’re growing wet, soaking through your panties, and you know you won’t be able to stop tonight.

“I don’t,” San says a moment later - you can’t tell if it’s been a few seconds or an hour. 

Kissing him does that to your brain.

“Huh?”

San pecks your mouth once more, and you look down at his glistening, swollen lips as he repeats. “I don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

He breaks into a smile, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. “I don’t have a condom.”

You freeze for the second time in not too long, your heart skipping a beat in your chest.

Shit.

“Oh.”

“I…” he starts, though he seems at a loss for words for a few heartbeats. “I didn’t expect us to have sex tonight.” He wets his lips, attracting your gaze to his mouth. “I actually genuinely didn’t think I’d come here at all.” At the slight frown that appears on your features, San quickly adds, “I’m happy I did, though.”

You nod once, smiling softly. “I’m happy you did, too.”

You cup his cheek from where you’re sitting on his dick, and it twitches in his pants as your thumb teases his bottom lip. You feel powerful, like you’re sitting on a throne and not on his lap - it’s all thanks to him, and the way he’s looking at you like you’re the most important thing in the world.

“I gotta admit I really fucking want you too,” he says, his voice resembling a growl.

You’re barely surprised when he sits up to kiss your lips again. Indeed, you’re immediately kissing him back, tasting all of him until he’s the only thing in your mind.

Until you forget all about the world - all that’s left is Choi San, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You let your hands explore his body, appreciating his hard muscles through the shirt he’s wearing. It’s a little on the thicker side - he’d put it on back at the park when it started getting chillier - yet you can still feel his hard-earned body. It emboldens you, turns you on even more, and you’re pulling on the hem of his shirt a second later, letting him know you want him to take it off.

He understands the cue, and he’s pulling away from the kiss just long enough to take his shirt off, revealing the t-shirt underneath. He’s about to kiss you again when you stop him with a hand on his chest.

You can feel his quick heartbeats on your palm, and he just looks at you with questions in his eyes.

“Take it off, too,” you say, motioning to his t-shirt.

He smirks, tilting his head to the side. “I guess it’s just fair, mmh?”

You don’t reply anything, too distracted by the body that’s revealed when he finally takes the t-shirt off. And though you saw his body yesterday, there’s just something about the strong planes of his chest that makes you roll your hips into his, and San’s hands shoot to your waist to guide your motions.

It’s hot, even if your panties are sticking to your pussy uncomfortably from how soaked they are.

  “You know what’s wild?” he says with a low, husky voice that sends shivers down your spine.

“What?” you breathe out.

“I deadass think you could make me come like this,” he admits with not even a single ounce of shame. “You turn me on so fucking much.”

You moan as he grinds up into you again. Even with all the clothes between you and him, you can still feel how hard he is, and your pussy clenches around nothing.

“Fuck, San.”

“I know,” he lets out, capturing your lips in a wet kiss. “I know, baby.”

“I need to feel you,” you purr. “I…”

You don’t finish your sentence, instead getting up. San watches you, leaning back on his hands, as you finish undressing, breathing a sigh of relief when your panties finally stop sticking to your pussy. You drop them to the floor, fully aware that San’s eyeing you up and down. It makes you feel hot, more attractive than you’ve ever felt - it helps that his bulge is so evident, protruding from his pants so much you think he might rip through them.

But it looks uncomfortable, and you want to relieve him. Want to feel him - will feel him. So you lean closer, fingers finding the button of his pants, and then you’re doing quick work of taking the rest of his clothes off, too. His boxers follow his pants right away, his dick slapping on his abdomen from how hard he already is. 

You haven’t seen him fully naked before. He’s always kept either his shirt or pants on, and you understand why. 

You think you would have gone insane if you’d seen him fully naked before. It’s just so sinful - he’s a Greek god sent down to Earth to whisk you away to Olympus. But in all honesty, you think you go a little insane anyway as you look at him now, watching the bead of precum that sits on his slit.

“Fuck.”

The word falls from your lips right in time with San’s dick twitching as you reach for it, running a finger along his length. San just surveys you as you’re doing so, so out of breath he looks like he’s just finished a marathon. 

Your finger stops at his slit, smearing the precum on his tip. San throws his head back, eyes shutting in time with his mouth falling open as you wrap your hand around him next, giving him a stroke up and down.

You’re dripping. Dripping between your legs, your juices rolling down the inside of your thighs. You doubt you’ve ever been so wet before, and you’d be embarrassed of it if San didn’t look so helpless from just your hand on him.

And maybe you’re wild for it, maybe you’re stupid, but you push him back down on the bed, straddling his lap again. The lack of fabric between the two of you when your pussy rubs on his dick from the motion makes the both of you moan, and you still with his tip nudging your clit, your mind swimming in ecstasy already.

“Holy shit,” San lets out. “Fuck, I…”

And then he’s moving, grinding against you, coating his length in your juices. You don’t move, almost hoping he’ll slip inside of you as he goes back and forth, the friction on your clit enough to make your vision blurry.

But you need more. Want more, need the friction to send you flying over the edge. So you lean forward, finding leverage on his shoulders as you start moving too, and San lets you take the lead, grunting under you as you rub your clit on his hard length.

He feels heavenly. He feels like you’re about to reach nirvana, and you genuinely think you might. It’s just too good, and his hands on your hips so gentle despite the actions you’re partaking in that you know you’ll be able to come in no time.

He murmurs your name, eyes still closed as he takes in the sensation of you on him, and you bend down until you can kiss him again. He takes over then, slowly pushing his dick harder into you as he rubs your clit. Your walls clench around nothing, and you’re so wet you know he might accidentally slip right in.

You don’t care - you want him to. You want to know what it would feel like to be impaled by his large dick, to feel him stretching your walls.

So do you slightly shift when he moves back? You do. Just enough for his tip to starts slipping inside of you, and San immediately pulls his hips back, even as you try to chase him. He wraps his arm around your waist, holding you in place, and then he delivers a light slap to your ass.

“Be nice, mmh?” he lets out.

Your head falls into the crook of his neck as he starts rubbing his dick on your clit once more. You moan in his ear, and then go straight to the skin of his neck, sucking on it just hard enough to leave a faint purple mark behind.

But then you’re sitting back, and this time with a goal. You need completion, need to come undone, so you add your motions to San’s, being careful not to push his dick inside of you again. It’s so good your eyes roll to the back of your head, and it doesn’t take long before you start feeling a knot forming in your lower stomach.

Your hand is on his chest as you grind on him, your free one moving to your breast so that you can pinch your nipple. San gets the message, and then he’s pushing your hand away from your breast, replacing it with his.

The second he squeezes your nipple between his thumb and index  you’re coming undone, your climax hitting almost out of nowhere.

It’s too good, far too good, and you go limp, falling into his chest as he keeps going, his rhythm accelerating for a few heartbeats until a warm liquid squirts all over your lower stomach, though it mostly falls on his. Even then San keeps moving, but he slows down, his motions sloppy until he entirely stops.

Your room is silent then except for your mingling breaths, and San holds you as you slowly come down from the high, your head resting on his chest. It takes a while for his heartbeat to slow down, and you only raise your head to meet his gaze once his heart does go back to a normal rhythm.

He’s already looking at you, eyes shining brightly like a star was born in their depths. You can’t help yourself - you kiss him, but this time it’s softer than a feather. It’s the perfect conclusion to the action that just unfolded, and you sigh in contentment, eyes still shut as you pull away from the kiss.

Your eyelids flutter open to see San with his eyes still closed. He sighs too, a lazy smile growing on his lips, and you chuckle at the sight.

“I can’t believe we just basically fucked without fucking,” you comment.

He snorts, and then you both burst out laughing.

“What are you doing to me, woman?” San asks, but it’s a rhetorical question. “You’re so…” His eyes flutter open. “You’re so fucking perfect, you know that, right?”

Pink dusts your cheeks. “Stop, I’m not.”

“To me, you are,” he insists as he shuts his eyes again with the same satisfied smile on his lips. “I’ve never come like this before. You really turn me on so much, you have no clue.”

“Then why don’t you carry a condom around, mmh?”

He chuckles. “You still came, didn’t you?”

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself up just enough so that you can look at the mess between the two of you. “Like you didn’t? You made a mess.”

He cracks an eye open to glare at you playfully. “It’s your fault. You’re the one that started grinding on me.”

“No regrets,” you tease, and you both laugh again.

When the laughter recedes, you reach for the box of tissue on your bedside table, putting it on the bed next to you. And then you grab some tissues, sitting back on San so that you can clean your lower stomach. He makes to reach for some tissues too, but you swat his hand away. He laughs softly, and then looks at you with those sparkling eyes of his as you clean him up too.

“You’re sleeping over, right?” you ask.

San smiles, tilting his head to the side. “I’m getting the feeling that you wouldn’t let me leave even if I wanted to.”

“You want to leave?” you say with a pout.

He props himself up on his elbows, and the muscles on his chest shift from the switch in position. It’s hot, almost enough to get you going again, so you quickly look away, meeting his gaze instead.

“Not at all,” he answers truthfully. “I just want to sleep with you.”

You cock an eyebrow, mischief in your gaze. “To sleep with me, mmh?”

He chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yes, sleep. To sleep with you in my arms like we did yesterday.”

Butterflies take flight in your stomach, and you barely can hold your smile. San just looks at it for a few seconds, and then he sits up to kiss you softly as he loses one hand in your hair.

“We should probably take a shower first, though,” he says in the space between the two of you as he leans his forehead against yours.

You agree. You definitely should, yet you don’t want to leave the comfort of the safe haven that your room is. But you have to, so you force yourself to pull away from his forehead, turning your head to the side so that you can focus on the sounds in the apartment.

It’s dead silent, and though you wait a couple of seconds, Yunho and Sydney don’t make themselves heard at all.

“Do you think they went to bed?” you ask.

San ponders for a few seconds as he, too, listens to the apartment. “Seems like it.”

You nod once, and then you’re getting up. You grab San’s t-shirt, putting it on quickly before he can steal it from your hands. He just smiles at the sight as you hand him his pants. 

You put a pair of PJ shorts on while he gets dressed, and then you guide him to the bathroom so that you can take a shower together.

Later, when you’re finally tucked in bed with your head on his shoulder, his arm holding you close to him, you trace idle shapes on his stomach. San kisses the top of your head, bringing a smile to your lips, and you peck his jaw.

He kisses you a second later, and though it’s short, his heart is beating quicker in his chest when you lean your head against him once more after. It fills you with warmth, and you nuzzle your face in his neck, breathing in the distinct scent of him.

You fall asleep entwined with him, dreams of a park and a dimpled smile occupying your night.

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[darryscrow]

Book darry facts!!

He doesn't like films- thinks his life is enough without inspecting other people's.

Looks just like his father but acts the opposite of him.

People had always mistaken him and his dad as brothers instead of father and son.

Darry likes being teased by sodapop.

He was a real popular guy in school. He was captain of the football team, and was voted Boy of the year.

Him and Sodapop wrestle and tickle ponyboy out of bed.

Dally told pony "You ought to see Darry. He's takin this mighty hard" when visiting ponyboy at the church

Darry was the unofficial leader of their gang, since he kept his head best.

Not even Darry wants to tangle with Dally, he was dangerous.

He didn't cry at his parents funeral. Just stuffed his fists into his pockets and wore a helpless, pleading look.

Darry told the reporters Pony is in no shape to be yelled at so much and they slowed down because he's kinda big.

Darry and Sodapop had their pictures taken by reporters too, because they were so good looking.

Darry convinced the nurse to tell him whats Johnny's and Dallys condition.

Darry likes his eggs in a bacon and tomato sandwich.

He drinks black coffee.

Darry was convinced by sodapop and pony to let them eat chocolate cake for breakfast. It didn't take a lot to convince him: he loves chocolate cake as much as his brothers.

They never lock their doors, and when Two-bits mom tried to warn them about burglars, Darry just flexed his muscles so they bulged like oversized baseballs, and drawled that he wasn't afraid of any burglars.

He works two jobs at once and makes good at both of them.

The gang sometimes calls Darry "muscles" or "Superman". (earlier in the book ponyboy mentions his Superman qualities)

Darry had taken Pony to a doctor after his bad nightmares, and even after he stopped dreaming them, Darry would still ask if he dreamed anymore.

Darry sometimes calls Sodapop- PepsiCola, which was his dad's nickname for him.

He called Ponyboy Little buddy after the rumble, which was his nickname for Sodapop.

Darrys stricter with Ponyboy than their parents had been.

"The only thing that keeps Darry from being a Soc is us"

The Curtis brothers all eat like horses- Especially Darry. He had cooked two chickens before the rumble because of this.

Darry started shaving at 13.

Darry never had long hair. His was short and clean all the time.

Darry fights for pride.

Darry had taught the gang acrobatics after he took a course of it at the Y. He spent a whole summer teaching then everything, thinking it'd come in handy in a fight.

"He wasnt to be any hood when he got old. He was going to get somewhere. That's why he's better than the rest of us."

Darrys in better shape than most greasers. "This is partly because they dont eat much and partly because they're slouchy. Darry looked like he could whip anyone there."

Darry and Paul used to buddy it around all the time- Paul was the best half-back on Darrys football team.

"You could see he hated Paul now. It wasn't only jealously- Darry had a right to be jealous; he was ashamed to be on our side, ashamed to be seen with the Brumly boys, Shepards gang, maybe even us."

Darry and Sodaoop had never been beaten in a fight before.

Darry had pulled his armchair into Ponyboys room so he can look over him when he was sick after the rumble.

Darry checks Pony's math homework and catches all his mistakes- then makes him do them again.

Darry, Sodapop and Ponyboy tied when running back to the house- they wanted to stay together.

[ghostgirl-22]

It’s November so… uh Happy Halloween 👻

18+ !NSFW! Explicit

Day 31: That one time at the Halloween Party

Pair: Artrick + Tashi

It ends upstairs in the bedroom of some star baseball player, Tanner Mulligan, he’s got a full ride to Stanford just like Tashi. Patrick has no idea who the fuck he is but both Art and Tashi seem to know him. It’s how they got invited to his Halloween house party in the first place. There were so many people, hell Patrick probably had a full conversation with him but he doesnt remember much before the bedroom.

He remembers what they dressed up as. He was Mario, red sweater, blue jeans, gloves, a dumb cap and mustache that kept dropping off so he gave up. Tashi was the princess peach in a short little knock off pink dress with frills and a crown. And Art matched him in green but still so blonde he could’ve been a princess too.

It was supposed to be a couples costume but obviously Patrick would never choose if he could get away with it. So they all went together. Art still desperate for his girlfriend and Tashi still playfully amused about it.

It doesn’t matter though. Patrick can handle him. At least that’s what he thinks.

Art is popular among the tennis team but everyone at Stanford seems to adore Tashi. So it was just easier for Patrick to spend the night with Art and watch Tashi work the room. Besides he’s got prime real estate, a spot next to Art crowded onto one of the sofas.

Well it’s not easier, Art’s sitting between Patrick and one of his tennis friends that clearly has a huge crush on him. It’s so fucking obvious to everyone… except probably Art.

It’s ironic actually.

Patrick would go commiserate if he didn’t hate the guy. He’s working on Art, when Patrick’s not even there and Patrick thinks he’ll lose it if someone else gets to fuck him first.

Thankfully Art’s oblivious to the fact that the boy is steadily bringing him drink after drink to get him drunk. Something Patrick might do if he imagined they could make out at the end of the night. It annoys him though that this guy seems to know this about Art.

So Patrick takes Art’s drinks when he’s half done nearly every time to slow the process. It does earn him several frustrated glances from Art’s new boyfriend to which Patrick smirks in response. If he wants it he can get in line. Art’s conveniently oblivious to their silent feud, though. He’s busy pointing out girls in slutty Halloween costumes.

“Isn’t she your type?” Art asks about at least three different girls. Patrick thinks maybe Tashi has broken him because as hot as some of these girls are they aren’t really on Tashi’s level for him.

Even more amusing, Art must notice him watching, when Tashi chats with a group of 4 or 5 boys dressed as zombie football players because he leans over and whispers. “Brandon is the quarterback, he has a crush on her, they’re in the same biology class.”

“Shut up,” Patrick says.

“What? I’m just saying…they work in the lab together. He’s kinda handsome, right?”

Patrick looks at him, smirking. “You’re such a manipulative little shit.”

“I’m not being manipulative, I’m just literally telling you about him,” Art hiccups, snatching his drink back and taking a sip. He’s already drunk. Such a fucking lightweight.

“Yeah Patrick, I think he’s right. You should go check on your girl. I mean… they are standing kinda close.“ It's Art’s crush. He really wants Patrick to leave and Patrick really wants to tell him to fuck off.

“So I go over there and fly off the handle. Tell her she can’t talk to any boys and she tells me to fuck off and comes crying to you right?” Patrick says to Art and he shrugs, shit eating grin on his lips.

He’s not wearing the Luigi cap or mustache any more, boy crush playfully snatched it so Art would take his hat and so he’s got on this Indiana Jones Fedora. He looks stupid cute. If anything Patrick would tell him not to talk to any more boys. He trusts Tashi… at least enough to know she wouldn’t fuck around without telling him. But Art would do it and think nothing of it. They aren’t dating after all…

Tashi walks over then with another friend, some pretty girl with long braids, dressed like a vampire in thigh high stockings just like Tashi’s except black instead of white.

“This is my boyfriend, Patrick,” she says smiling at her friend. “Patrick this is Olivia. She’s my RA.”

”Hi,” Patrick says, trying to focus on her face and not their legs. He’s had enough drinks though that he’s fantasizing about them tangled up together. Tashi’s clearly tipsy or something, one of her white tights is slipping down her calf, her crown is on crooked, her eyes are glassy and she looks dangerously close to spilling whatevers in the red solo cup she’s holding.

“I’ve definitely seen you before, trying to sneak around so you could spend more than three nights in a row in her dorm room,” Olivia says laughing.

“She’s the reason we got away with it,” Tashi grins, she lifts her sleeve back up on her shoulder and it immediately drops again.

“I love you,” Patrick tells her friend and she smiles.

“Look I love her but don’t do it again. I need this job,” Olivia says.

“We won't, he's staying with Art tonight,” Tashi says.

“Technically the rule goes for the whole building but I’ll just pretend you didn’t say that…since I’m not his RA.” Olivia says.

“And that’s why we love you,” Tashi links their arms and they start chatting two feet in front of them. Art’s not being subtle, he’s looking at Tashi’s thighs while boy crush asks him if he wants another drink.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Patrick asks Art.

Art hiccups and points over at a line of people waiting near a closed door. Patrick groans. “I don’t think I can wait.”

”There’s another one upstairs you can go to,” boy crush says. “I’m sure there’s no line.”

“Come with me,” Patrick says to Art.

“But then we’ll lose our spot on the sofa,” Art points out, his eyes drifting back to Tashi’s long legs.

“I can show you where it is,” Tashi says, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Thank you,” Patrick gets up. And of course Art stumbles to his feet too and Patrick smirks. “I thought you wanted your spot.”

“I uh.. I might have to go too,” Art says.

“The group costume is so cute,” Olivia laughs looking over the three of them.

“Thank you,” Tashi curtsies adorably in Olivia’s direction and Olivia grins. Tashi takes his hand and he reaches for her cup before she almost spills. “My bad,” she giggles and she gives it to him. “It’s rum and coke.” Tashi says in his ear.

He takes a sip as they go upstairs. And the alcohol seems to hit him harder as they’re walking around. The second bathroom is full. It seems like there’s a couple hooking up in there. Tashi giggles as she presses her ear against the door.

“I think there’s another bathroom,” Art hiccups.

“Lead the way,” Patrick says.

That’s how they end up in Tanner’s bedroom in varying degrees of inebriation. Tashi sits on the bed to pull up her white knee high socks she can’t stop giggling and it makes Patrick smile.

”How do Mario and Luigi even know a princess anyway? Aren’t they plumbers? And what’s with all the turtles?” She’s cracking herself up and it makes him and Art laugh.

“And…” Art adds. “what the fuck is yoshi?”

”He’s a fucking dinosaur,” Patrick says.

This cracks them up even more. Everything is so funny and Patrick thinks if he doesn’t catch his breath and go in the bathroom soon he’ll pee his pants. But the funniest part is when Art leans in and kisses him. It’s just a little at first, and then again. Then he’s pushing his tongue in Patrick’s mouth.

“Mm,” Patrick steadies him. “Hold that thought while I pee.” He whispers.

Tashi giggles. “You two are fucking now, huh?”

“God, imagine,” Patrick rolls his eyes.

Art blinks like he’s just realized where he is and what he’s done in front of her. “I didn’t mean to…” he starts.

“I know,” Patrick smirks. “It has been well documented that you didn’t mean to every single time it happens.”

Art rubs his face. “I’m really drunk,” he groans.

Patrick can’t hold it any longer. He goes in the bathroom and when he comes out he’s not surprised to find the two of them making out. Art’s doing exactly what he might do to Patrick when he gets dizzy drunk. Trying to get on top, straddle her. And Tashi is playing her fingers into his hair pulling him closer.

If it was anyone but Art he’d probably be pissed. Instead he’s having trouble catching his breath.

He walks closer to the bed and plays with a strand of Tashi’s hair. She seems a bit startled and she pulls back looking up at him a little guilty. “Dont be mad… you kissed him first.”

“It’s okay…it’s hot,” Patrick says, quietly. He feels dizzy, his cock is already full in the steps it took for him to reach the bed.

Tashi bites her lip and pulls her hair back squeezing her thighs together. Arts licking his lips… they’re all messy covered in her gloss. His mouth now stained the same color as hers. He stares up at Patrick, lips parted, eyes dilated. Patrick’s one step away from blue screening.

“Are you two gonna fuck?” Patrick asks.

Tashi sits on her hands, crossing her legs. She can’t sit still… it’s such a tell. “I thought you two would.”

Art shrugs and Patrick snatches the fedora off his head, as cute as he looks Patrick kinda hates that he’s wearing it. “You know he wants to fuck you right?” He tosses it on the bed.

“Who Carter?” Art sniffles. “No he doesn’t. You think everyone wants to fuck me.”

“No he does,” Tashi says, grinning. “I thought you wanted him too. You guys flirt all the time.”

“Because he can’t help himself,” Patrick says, teasing his fingers into Art’s hair.

“He’s my friend.” Art says.

“How many times have you kissed him?” Patrick asks.

“Only twice,” Art hiccups. “Mm and I was really wasted and confused. So it doesn’t count.”

“What the fuck?” Tashi giggles.

“He’s a menace,” Patrick straddles him on the bed. Art leans back on his elbows.

“Mm not being manipulative.” He murmurs.

“No of course not,” Patrick leans over him and takes his mouth. It tastes good, the way Tashi’s lipstick tastes. He licks Art’s lips and Art licks his tongue, pushes it inside Patrick’s mouth deepening the kiss. He can hear the beat of the stereo thrumming through the house and Tashi taking light breaths. He feels Art getting harder as he grabs Patrick’s face, he’s such a good kisser. It’s not surprising that Carter wants him drunk to do it again and again.

Patrick moves his hand down to unzip Art’s jeans and grips his swollen cock. Art gasps, licking his lips as Patrick pulls back. “I get to fuck you first,” Patrick whispers. “Right?”

Art moans as Patrick works on him. “I’m not even… oh fuck…he’s just my friend, Patrick.”

Tashi takes a breath and crosses her legs again.

“I know, and you’re such a good friend Art. Till you're tipsy in his bed with your mouth on his cock.”

“No,” Art breathes. “It’s not like that…He’s not like you.”

“Not like me how?”

“Patrick,” Art says breathlessly as Patrick stops touching him.

“Not like me how?”

“Mm so drunk,” he whines, squirming and stretching out beneath Patrick. Patrick traces Art’s mouth with his fingertips and he opens up right away. Sucking them inside while staring up at Patrick.

“Jesus Christ.” Patrick breathes. He ponders what to use for lube because he needs to fuck him right now or he might go insane.

Tashi lays on the bed next to Art. And Patrick slowly pulls his fingers out watching her.

“You’ve never had anything inside you?” She asks, softly playing with his hair..

Art closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“I promise it feels so good,” she whispers. “Really fucking good.”

“God,” Patrick breathes.

Art opens his eyes and turns to look at her shyly. She grins, touching his cheek and he kisses her. Patrick grips him again, he’s gentle with it. He doesn’t want Art to come yet but he’s dripping, dripping, dripping wet from the tip. Art sighs as Tashi pulls back, her fingers lingering in his hair.

”You’re such a pretty boy,” she says softly. “You should let him fuck you.”

“Your boyfriend?” Art says.

“Mmhm,” Tashi says, quietly. “Or maybe… you want to fuck him?”

Patrick thinks he’s in love with her.

Art bites his lip and reaches for Patrick’s zipper. Patrick doesn’t waste time waiting for him. He undoes it himself before getting Arts jeans all the way off.

Art gazes at him and hiccups, grinning. “You want to put it in me?” He’s come apart like a little slut, legs spread wide, flushed all down his neck, cock so full, heavy. Patrick starts to grab at his sweater and Art lifts it off. Patrick doesn’t have lube but Tashi has a condom that’s covered in it in her bag so Patrick kisses her. She grins against his lips and helps him take his sweater off.

Patrick then looks at Art beneath him, nothing but raw, needy, anxious energy. He nudges Arts thighs further apart and kisses him. Slowly. Letting it build.

Art lets him, stretched out beneath pushing his tongue in and out like sex and moaning till Patrick can’t take much more. He positions himself and feels Art starting to tense. He presses…slowly… and Art starts to react as the tip enters.

“Wait…” he breathes. And Patrick thinks he might kill him. Just take the pillow and smother him. He slips out again and licks his top lip forcing himself to calm down.

“Yes?” He says breathlessly.

“What if someone tries to… tries to… is the door locked?” Art asks.

“I can lock it,” Tashi says.

”She’s gonna lock it,” Patrick says, and Art nods. Patrick goes to try again and Art sighs.

“Patrick wait… have you ever… have you ever done this before?”

Patrick presses his lips together trying to find the best answer that will lead to the least amount of follow up questions.

“Art I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.” Tashi says, climbing back on the bed.

“Okay,” Art breathes.

“Okay?” Patrick says raising his eyebrows.

“Can you go slow? I’ve never…” he trails off and he sounds oddly lucid.

“Yeah I’ll go slow. But you’ve got to let me fucking go or you’re gonna kill me,” Patrick says.

Art nods again and adjusts his head on the pillow. Patrick bends over so their faces are inches apart and he cradles Arts face in his hands. “Just close your eyes. I’m only gonna fuck you like a friend. A really good friend.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Art says, biting back his smile. Patrick licks at his mouth and Art opens for him. Another kiss and a moment later Patrick starts again easing into what is honestly deliciously tight wet heat. Art is squeezing right away which feels insanely good. Fuck. Maybe he’s having a religious experience. He’s wanted this for so fucking long. He’s halfway in and Art is pulling his legs up on either side of him.

“Oh fuuck… Patrick…” Art moans breathlessly. And Patrick thinks he’ll probably embarrass himself and come on one or two strokes if Art's voice continues to sound like that.

When he gets fully inside Art is holding his breath. And Patrick smiles and slowly pulls back. When he’s mostly out, Art breaths out again. He’s fucking shivering.

Patrick pushes again and gazes at him, rubbing his stomach. “Okay?”

“Mmhm,” Art says, tense.

“Relax. Breathe through it,” Patrick says, probably talking to himself more than anything.

Art nods and tries to let it out. Patrick is pretty proud actually for lasting this long. He goes for it again and Art’s breathing so deep and then he moans.

“Is it okay?” Patrick asks. The sound is going to kill him. Make him nut inside all prematurely like he’s fucking sixteen.

“Yes,” Art says. He’s still shivering. “Mm fuck… yes, yes, yes,” Art moans into his ear.

Tashi sighs and Patrick can see she’s got her hand between her thighs. And fuck, this moment is gonna do permanent damage to Patrick’s brain. He thinks he might die actually.

Patrick is something like five strokes in before Art breaks him completely. He’s watching Art’s tummy rise and fall when Art begins moaning for it in earnest and clenching so tightly.

It’s so fucking delicious that Patrick knows he won’t last much longer… he thinks of death, dying, his sister, his mom, his stupid brother…anything to keep himself together but nothing is fucking helping. So he grips at Art’s cock and starts jerking him… thankfully it only takes twice before Art’s spilling all over himself, his hips jerking up erratically and the sound, the sounds he can’t tell who’s doing what anymore…even his own voice is foreign to his ears. Patrick just loses it. Just fucking can’t anymore.

“Fuck,” Patrick groans, collapsing on top of him.

Art takes shallow breaths. “Mm Patrick?” He tangles his fingers in Patrick’s hair.

“That was,” Tashi whispers, her voice still pitched with arousal, she’s trying to catch her breath. “Did you like it?”

“Mmhm,” Art hums.

“I told you.”

Patrick can hear them kissing again.

He’s ready to fall asleep right here. Listening to them. Listening to Art's heartbeat. He thought that this would fucking cure him but he might actually be more sick over Art than he was before he fucked him. He’s certain everything that just happened in Tanner's little bedroom will be permanently etched into his memory. Even if the rest of the day isn’t.

He knows they eventually got dressed and that maybe they mixed up the red and the green. He doesn’t know what the fuck happened to the fedora or Carter for that matter. He remembers going back to the dorm. Watching Rocky Horror picture show. Tashi falling asleep in Arts bed while he slept on the floor with Art. And he remembers Art doesn’t pull away when he links their fingers together.

———————-

Thank y’all for reading. Master list is here.

[jealousjealousgurlll]

GO QUAKERS

Hi, it's been a minute since I last posted. I am very grateful for the support I've received on my prior stories.

Hope you all enjoy, I am fairly new to writing fanfics and longer stories so any feedback is welcome 🤗

Mood board here

Word count only including story: 3,705

You, the Penn cheer captain, fall for the nerdy computer science major student Luigi Mangione. You fall for him, but he falls harder for you.

Warnings: none, however, this is a slow burn, and Luigi gets jealousssss lolzzz.Y/n/ reader is kinda a drunk bitch.

The first Luigi saw you was in the dining hall. You wore your cheer costume, and your hair and makeup were bright and cheerful. You took pride in your role as cheer captain, whenever there was a game, you wore your cheer uniform all day. Running behind your friends to surprise them, shaking your pom poms, and yelling “Go Quakers!!!!” This small interaction caught Luigi’s eye, looking over his shoulder, he saw your vibrant smile and your friend’s shocked faces. Once you all walked out of the building, he smiled briefly at this interaction, he found it wholesome. 

Game Night:

Thursday night football games reunited many students, professors, and alumni of the University of Pennsylvania. The stadium was filled, and the opposite side had the rival’s support. During the halftime mark, you led the cheer performance. It has since been improved from the last game, adding in a few dancing components and a new “cheer”

“Oh, oh, oh my gosh, our team is going to kick your buttocks. GOOO QUAKERS”.

The crowd went crazy, cheers from both sides of the stadium. The feedback felt euphoric, you were proud of yourself and your team. You initiated a group hug with everyone, if only every game felt this magical.

Meanwhile, Luigi was in the stands. Watching every moment of the game, especially the cheer performances, he quickly spotted you. Your graceful movements and your physical beauty stood out the most. In the stands, a small booklet to promote the cheer team with pictures and fun facts about every member, there were also upcoming events listed and ways to support the cheer team. The booklet was passed around. Landing into Luigi’s friend's hand, he observed the pictures. Luigi, who went onto his phone, was disturbed by a tap on his arm “Alright man, pick your top three”. Luigi looked through the booklet, reading all of the details about everyone, when he came across your bio his eyes buckled out. What was listed was basic information such as your name, social media handles, your major, and a short Q&A. You spoke about the cheer team you led back home, and your humanity work for children with cancer also caught his eye. After analyzing the booklet, Luigi responds, “ I don’t have a top three. They are all lovely girls, you know," That’s a courteous response, Mangione,” his friend replied. Later at night, Luigi and his frat hosted a party to celebrate the football team's victory. The blue paint began to fade off of his body, he had a few too many drinks, but hey, this is the frat experience. Whenever a cheerleader walked inside the house, he physically searched her up and down hoping it was you.

Winter semester

Football cheer season is over, you missed dancing in 20-degree weather and having the stadium yelling out the silly cheer you created while studying. However, competitive cheer has re-started, so that keeps you occupied. One of your classes this semester is chemistry. The first day felt intimidating because of how many students were there. When your professor announced to find a lab partner, you were slightly panicking. You knew no one in the class and it seemed everyone knew each other. The majority of the students were already paired up, excluding you walking around to find a partnerless. “Hey, you wanna partner up?” Turning around, you saw a guy with straight dirty blonde hair, he wore a baseball cap backward and a white tee paired with a gold chain. Immediately you said yes and the two of you sat at the open station. He introduced himself, his name is Kevin. He started to have a side conversation with you, he “humbly” bragged about his lifestyle, having an apartment off campus, and his parents owning multiple houses throughout the states. Typical frat boy bullshit, but you were stuck with him as your partner. Behind you, there was a gentleman who overheard your entire conversation from beginning to end. “Fucking jackass” he whispered underneath his breath. The gentleman was the same one who walked over to ask if you wanted to partner up before Kevin did, this is the same gentleman who enjoyed your yippy surprise to your friends at the dining hall. This gentleman’s name is Luigi. 

Every minute you spend away from Kevin feels fantastic. You cherish your time outside of the chemistry lab. Sometimes he would sit next to you during lectures, which would irritate you. Constantly distracting you by showing dumb shit on his phone, his shameless flirting with you while having a girlfriend. Everything about this guy disgusts you, one day showing up to lecture late, you sat in the back of the lecture room. Once the lecture is over, you head to the lab. To your pleasant surprise, Kevin was not there hallelujah!! Your prayers have been answered. You didn’t mind working by yourself, however, your professor insisted everyone was paired. Fuck, everyone in front of you was already paired up. Your professor walked by your station and asked you, “Where is your partner?” You respond “Um he’s not here today”. Your professor looked directly behind your station, standing there was Luigi Solo. “You two will partner for today’s lab”. Luigi gathered his items to move to your station, “Hi, I’m Luigi” he shyly said. You introduced yourself to him, while your professor performed a demonstration for the lab. After the demonstration, you started to grab the items necessary for today’s lab. It wasn’t until you glanced over to your left and saw Luigi, the adjacent partner, had everything set up. “Damn, you work fast” the both of you started to laugh playfully. 

While one of the parts of the experiment had to be timed for 15 minutes, leaving you both without doing, you initiated a conversation with Luigi. 

“So what’s your major?”

Your conversation starter took him back, “It’s computer science. I have a minor in math. Um, what about you?”

“Mines is Public health, computer science sounds fascinating, however I bet the workload is quite time-consuming”

He softly giggled “Ya, this class is my more “low key” class, I’m mainly taking it to relearn basic chemistry concepts for a program I am working on”

“What is the program you are working on?’’ you asked in a curious tone.

He smiled at your question and further explained, “So basically a few friends and I are making better graphics for chemistry models. For instance, the current software used for chemistry classes at Penn uses old and difficult models to understand. We want to develop a website with accurate and efficient models for student use, and even play around with them more.”

Hearing the passion in his voice made you feel excited for him. He spoke enthusiastically and blissfully. 

“Wow, that’s pretty fascinating. In the past, I avoided using the chemistry websites provided by Penn because the graphics were more difficult to understand. But what made you want to pursue this program?’’

His body is turned towards you, his hazel eyes staring deep into yours. You reciprocate the same body language as his.

“That’s interesting you asked, well, basically one night tutoring a student here. He was showing me the questions he struggled with most on his homework. He had the right answer however when it came to identifying the models, he struggled not because of the lack of comprehension but because the graphics were so shitty” he began to chuckle and you started to laugh. “Anyhow, a few of my friends also expressed how much they hate using the websites. I  initiated to find a solution to this problem in a cs group I co-founded. We are still at the beginner stages, especially me having to work with the “terrible” software, and also learn what exactly I am going to create.”

“The more I speak with you, the more intelligent I realize you are. If I had 30% of your brain, I would be unstoppable,” you said in disbelief. Seeing how solution-based he is made you admire and respect him. 

He laughed at your response “Thank you, enough about me and my fascination with building websites. What are your interests outside of academics?

Taking a deep breath out of your mouth, “Well, I don’t want your expectations to be too high, but mostly dance. I’ve been dancing my entire life, and also cheer.”

“Nice, I can’t dance for shit. And cheer? Hm, do you cheer for Penn?”

“Yes, I am the cheer captain for Penn and I am also co-cheer captain for a little league back home in Baltimore.

Luigi’s eyes widened out of shock, “Oh really, I’m from Towsom. We are practically neighbors!” His voice had a hint of excitement. 

“Omg? Well, it’s nice to have a hangout buddy when going home for break”

The both of you laughed. 

Eventually, you both had to go back to your lab, with little room left for side conversations. Luigi is a fantastic partner, his communication is clear, and he always holds his share in the experiments. In the back of your mind, you were saddened that he’s just your temporary partner, next lab you will be back with Kevin. After finishing up the lab, you and Luigi cleaned up your station. Before he left, you wanted to speak with him one last time. As he was packing up his belongings, you blurted out “Thanks for working with me, you are great to work with, hope to see you around”. A reassuring smile appeared on his face, fuck his smile is a blessing to witness, there was a sparkle in his eye as well.

“I enjoyed myself working with you, likewise. Have a good night y/n”

“Bye!” you shyly said. The rest of the day, you thought about him. You wished you knew more of him. Luigi was in a trance with you, he was geeked to finally interact with you. He never had a radar on girls but he always kept an eye out for you. In his dorm, he found the flier from the football game and for a minute he stared at the pictures of you. Sitting there on his bed, his thought process was shortly interrupted by his roommate opening the door. Luigi immediately put the flier near his pillow, his roommate then started to “bug” him about going to some party, Luigi gave in and threw on his Adidas sweatshirt before leaving.  Arriving at the party, nearly 30% of people were drugged out, drunk, or both. The music was loud, hard for Luigi to produce a conscious thought. 

Immediately, Luigi was greeted by a few friends, slurring their words and offering him a “mystery” drink. Luigi politely declined but walked over to a keg. Indulging in a little beer wouldn’t hurt. In his perpetual sight, he saw a girl running while holding her hand over her mouth. Luigi moved out of the way and behind him he bumped into someone.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry about that-”

Cutting him “Luigi, hey! I wasn’t expecting to see you here”.

His eyes flashed in shock, for the first few minutes he hadn’t thought of you, you were physically near him.

You wore your cheer uniform, before attending the party, you had a photo shoot for the local news newspaper. 

“Nice outfit, you know gotta represent your team” he laughed. Luigi observed your body silently without coming off as creepy.

Rolling your eyes, “Yeah yeah, thanks”. “What are you drinking?”

“Oh just beer”

“Huh, sorry it’s hard of hearing,” you practically screamed at him

He spoke a little louder, saying “Beer”, the music was blasting incredibly loud, you could feel the vibration ringing in your ears.

Luigi then lowered his head near your ear and said “I am drinking beer”. Something about this interaction turned you on, was it the warmth of his voice crashing to your ear, or was it the fruity intoxicating beverage influencing your brain? Sadly, your friend Shealia left you to play poker with some brainless jocks so you were left all alone. 

“Let’s chit-chat downstairs” you whispered in his ear. 

“Oh ya?” he started to press his tongue into his cheek as he raised his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, follow me”

The both of you moved past the intoxicating young adults, walking down to the basement, the music started to fade. No more distracting vibrance from a speaker was present. 

There were a few people already downstairs, including two pairs of people making out, a guy sitting on the floor as he watched a video, and a group of girls sitting further away. A brown leather couch was available to sit on, you both walked over and sat down.

“Cheers,” you clicked your cup with his.

As he took a small sip of his drink, you fell into a staring match with him. You never blinked or looked away, he did the same. He then squinted his eyes and smiled while hovering his face over his red solo cup.

“You like what you see?”

You blinked your eyes out of shock, not realizing how long you were staring at him. 

“Sorry” 

“Naw, I’m just messing with you”.

Luigi was more relaxed, he wasn’t tippy but the alcohol was slowly easing him down.

You on the other hand were pretty tippy, still having proper consciousness!

“So, what do you want to talk about?” he turned his body to face you, giving you his undivided attention.

Laughter came out of your mouth, and your cheeks turned bright red. It was adorable generally, but he was a little confused. 

“You know my dick head of a partner Kevin in chemistry? I  hate him and I am fucking sad that I have to work with him! I rather fucking work with you because you are so kind and your eyelashes are so pretty I will admit I am jealous of your eyelashes Mr. Mangione”

 Unhinged, you yelled this out, this took Luigi by surprise. You weren’t the type to gossip, however, it was on your chest.

“Damn, I didn’t know you disliked your partner Kevin. Tell me in-depth why you dislike him?” 

“Okay, I have a delicate argument based on why I hate him” you chugged the rest of your beverage. “Hold on, I am going to get more to drink”.

As you attempted to stand up, Luigi grabbed your arm to yank you back down.

“I think you had too much to drink, y/n” 

You pouted your face and gave him saddened puppy eyes.

“But it tastes so good Lu-lu, wait, have you ever been called Lu-lu by your family?”

He laughed at your question, “Ya, my sisters do”

“I like guys who have sisters, it develops the male brain better. Well, at least that I learned in developmental psy”.

“Tell me your argument based on why you hate your partner”

“Oh yeah, 1. He’s in a frat! Guys who are pledged in frat are part of the lowest level of humanity. Mean-hearted, selfish fucking losers who have to practically pay for pussy!”

Luigi was stunned by your language, he was “offended”, put his hand over his heart, and put on a distressed facial expression.

“Wow, it’s unfortunate that you despise guys who pledge into frats. I’m in a frat myself”

Your face was mortified, “There’s no way you are Luigi” “Please tell me that this is a bull face lie”.

Begging on your knees “PLEASE”

“Sorry, but it’s not a lie. Let me show you”

Slapping your hand on your forehead, you waited for Luigi to show you something on his phone.

He places the phone between you and him, adjusts himself to sit closer to you.

On his phone, there appeared to be a picture of him and his fellow frat members posing with their symbol. Immediately your eye found Luigi in the photo. He didn’t have his bright smile, instead a stoic facial expression. He then scrolled on his camera roll to show another picture, swiping his photos too fast, he landed on a group picture of him wearing blue paint all over his body. 

“Oh my god, Luigi is that you with the paint”?

He looked up at you, your eyes were squinted with curiosity.

“Yeah that’s me!” he raised his eyebrows, attempting to hold back his laughter while looking at your crazy-ass facial expression.

“So all of that sexy muscle is underneath your Adidas jacket”

“Um, I guess so.”

“TAKE IT OFF” screaming of desperation peaked through your voice

He laughed out of nervousness, hoping no one was overhearing your conversation.

“No, I’m cold”

You rolled your eyes, “You ruined my entire mood now Lu-lu”

“I’ll show you another time, I promise”

“Pinky promise?” extending your pinky out

He caressed his pinky with yours and you did the same, together you had yourself a deal.

“Please further enlighten me why you dislike your partner”. Luigi kept circling back to this question because he “needed” a reason to hate him. He never spoke to the guy, so any relevant dislike of Kevin would be one-sided. He disliked him because he was your partner, he saw him as cock-blocking him from getting to know you. On the first day of Chemistry, Luigi had the intention to ask you if you want to be lab partners, but Kevin was a little faster than him.

“He flirts with me! It’s gross like he has a girlfriend. He even snapped me a dick pic saying “Will this be enough?”. Kevin is an inappropriate stupid frat boy who will develop into a manchild if he continues.”

Luigi’s eyes widened in disgust, “How low of him. To send an unsolicited dick pic while having a girlfriend is pathetic. Boys like him to make men look bad” his reaction was a little over dramatic but he truly felt everything he said”

“Have you considered asking Professor Kim if you can switch partners? I mean what he is doing is a violation of your consent.” Luigi’s face was gentle and sincere. 

“Then who would be my partner?” Strangely you placed your hand on his thigh.

“You’re looking at him, my partner dropped the class so for all of the labs I just do it solo.”

“Yeah that’s a good idea, hopefully, my wish can be granted”

“It will trust me”

You looked into his eyes again, but there was something different from the first time you made eye contact with him. Despite being drunk, you could pick up on the energy around Luigi. He was a sweetheart, he took time out of his day to talk to you, hearing your crazy rambling drunken rants. You never met anyone like him thus far, his appearance was puppy-like yet assertive. 

After looking at him for 50 seconds straight, a guy came down the stairs yelling at everyone to leave. Struggling while getting up, Luigi catches you in his forearm and he pulls you in close. 

Walking out of the house, the cold air hit your face, you began to shiver and crossed your arms to keep yourself warm. Luigi was still helping you walk straight now using his arm around you. When he looked at your shaking body, he offered you his hoodie. You both stopped walking for him to properly place the jacket on you. 

“Thank you baby” you randomly blurted this out. Luigi didn’t say anything, just smiled to himself.

Before talking to you at your party, Luigi talked with Brandy, a girl who lived in your dorm and was part of the cheer team, so he knew where your dorm is. 

You wrapped your arm near his lower waist. When you were drunk, you became very touchy-feely. When he finally approached your dorm, you took off his jacket. 

“I love talking to you Lu-lu” 

“I enjoy talking with you too”

Standing in front of your dorm door, everything around you fades away. The only thing you cared about was Luigi. He has the same intention, just staring at you in the hallway. 

You placed your hand on his back and leaned for a kiss. While this shocked Luigi tremendously, he quickly reciprocated and kissed you back. Your full lips felt amazing against Luigi’s, it was the best kiss he’d ever received. As he passionately kissed you, he started to touch your lower body and even grabbed your ass. Your short cheer costume rode up with his large hands around your lower half. You didn’t care because this is what you wanted. Luigi wanted this as well, so much anticipation built up for him. From the first time he saw you, surprising your friends at the dining hall. You caught his eye every lecture, not even focusing on the lecture, he would record and listen to it later while staring at you. He watched you at every football game, you were his main attraction. He was truly blessed that Kevin didn’t come to the lab that one day, if he did this moment wouldn’t have been able to happen. 

Sadly, your kiss was interrupted by some girl saying “Oh sorry excuse me”.

Luigi grew angry, giving her a dirty look as she walked away.

You laughed at his reaction, you held his hand and said “I need my sleep, goodnight Lu-lu”.

“Goodnight honey”.

You opened your door and went straight to bed, not even taking off your clothes or your makeup.

Luigi stayed back behind for a few minutes to gather his thoughts. Everything was unexpected but he loved it. Dopamine released in his brain, he walked back to his dorm a happy fellow. Going to bed, before he fell asleep, a feeling of guilt merged into his brain. Recalling that you were drunk and the activity of someone drunk differs from someone who isn't, he went to bed feeling disgusted with the possibility of participating in an action that was motivated by alcohol, not the natural desire of kissing. Little did he know you wanted to kiss him, drunk or not.

xoxoxo

/)/) ( . .) ( づ♡

[pleasantglitterflower]

Heart Podium (Joe Burrow x OC x Max Verstappen)

Many times our childhood dreams cannot be realized, due to our overly fertile imagination, many times our professional childhood dreams cannot be realized either, either due to the delay in getting a place at the university we dreamed of or the lack of opportunities when it comes to working in the arts or sports. 

There's always plan b.

Kayleigh was one of those kids, it's true that dreaming of being a Backyardigan was difficult, but she was left with plan b, a plan that was broadcast every Sunday before the NFL, her father would have lunch, afternoon snack and dinner on the same channel, watching the drivers and then the Cleveland Browns, his favorite team in the state. 

That was the most exciting thing Kayleigh had in her childhood, watching Formula One followed by a good Browns game, arriving at school and eagerly wanting to talk to someone, but the girls didn't like the subject and asked to talk about something else and the boys laughed at her.

Leaving her and her mom's cookies in the stands.

Until one day she plucked up the courage and asked her father to play go-kart, finding a track in the state of Ohio in 2004, it wasn't the easiest task in the world, but he managed it and little by little, it went from being a joke to a serious thing.

Until high school came and she discovered that there were two ways to get into college: she had to be very smart or know how to play some sport, in 2011 in the United States, go-kart doesn't really mean a sport, far from it.

Not knowing what to do, she decided to confront her parents in her first year.

Not wanting to do anything, since it wouldn't help her with her possible future career was a very risky step.

For her parents, it's not even worth mentioning, they wanted to freak out, exchanging the stability of a degree for a go-kart race, for them it's crazy, especially when they've always prepared themselves financially for it, when they always prepared for her to enter university, which is not the cheapest thing,and it was in these uncertainties and in the midst of this conflict of whether or not to go to college that she tried to get interested in more conventional sports.

But when she tried out, she was terrible at soccer, average at lacrosse, slow at basketball, tough at gymnastics, shy at cheerleading, short at volleyball, afraid of water when swimming and she's a girl, she couldn't play American football.

It was during one of these that she found herself making a fuss.

-You're going to regret it, you know, you're losing the best wide receiver the world has ever seen -  She yelled.

One of the guys looked at her in fright, while others wondered who she was.

-You know you were running for the cornerback spot, right? A blond guy tells her.

-Yeah, I know, that's exactly why - She sighs tiredly.

-Because you came to try for the spot right here, you know they don't choose girls easily.

-I’ve tried everywhere, I came here just to cause trouble, I had nothing to do” She confesses, leaving him confused.

-Really?

-Yes-They end up laughing.

-You don’t like a specific sport, maybe if you try there you’ll do better, maybe explain to the coach that you like it and want to learn and she’ll let you stay-He suggests.

-I like watching, but not putting it into practice, I’m doing this more so my parents can see that I’m not good, I already know I’m not good-She sighs.

-I’m sorry-He gives her a half smile, until she feels a crack.

-Geez, I haven’t tried baseball yet-she remembers and gets up, leaving the equipment there.

-They don’t accept girls either-He reminds her.

-That’s exactly why-Kayleigh laughs.

-By the way, what's your name?-She stops, holding the door.

-I'm Joseph-he says shyly.

-I'm Kayleigh, see you soon, Joseph.

And yes, she tried baseball, but the first time she held the bat, it ended up between the legs of the boy next to her, who fell to the ground groaning in pain.

Kayleigh was thrown out.

Fate was cruel to her when it came to sports, but it only reinforced the idea that she had to continue in karting.

After meeting Joseph, she would see him someday, as she thought, but she would see him every day, until the prom, when after two years together, she finally realized that they would have to separate by force,and how that hurt, not only for her but for him too.

-I can’t believe you’re going to Europe, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m going to tell Ohio State to go fuck itself, I’ll go with you wherever you have to go, but I don’t want to be away from you.-His cheeks already reddened from the cold, he said.

-Stop saying that, you’ve been given an incredible opportunity, you have to take advantage of it.-She tried to convince him.

-But I can’t imagine being away from you.-Hearing that, she lay down on his lap.

-We’ll get through this, you’ll see, and we’ll be strong.

The first year away was the hardest, not only for Joseph, but for her parents too, because seeing their daughter try to make a living racing karts, traveling all over Europe, was something that made them so proud, but at the same time so apprehensive.The second year seemed to be easier. They were already well accustomed to the routine of video calls, social media, messages, letters. They sent polaroids to hang up. Once, Joseph even caught himself putting his perfume on the paper to make sure she could smell him. They exchanged gifts, everything.

Until the careers arrived on television, Joseph could sit down and look for the channel to watch her and she could pick up the phone and watch the college divisionals.The fifth year passed, the sixth too, and then the seventh, when Joe finally took off in his career in American football, being drafted by the Cincinnati Bengals.

And the following year, Kayleigh did what she never imagined she would be able to do: she reached Formula One, after almost dying waiting for this event. Of course the party was huge, she returned to her country with all possible honor, suddenly a little girl from Ohio was going to compete for a title for a team and everyone wanted to know what this little girl does and better, where are the American boys who are not having the same prominence?But she could never say that it had any real effect on the American public. Formula One is still a playboy thing for them, to the point where they even consider golf a more accessible sport.

Just as she was there for Joe's big debut, he was there for his big debut, of course,but their contracts ended up preventing more contact. They had to train, they had to focus, they couldn't travel long distances or do physical work before their work, and they also couldn't be too far away from their work.

It allowed them to spend a few moments together. She would catch his last games if he made the playoffs and he would catch her first races,so much time apart didn't make their love diminish. On the contrary, seeing each other's achievements seemed to only strengthen their love for each other.And even without knowing, there was someone who was not at all happy with this growing love.

-Joe said he'll call me soon.-She jumps around the room excitedly, waiting for someone to call her to give her the prize.

-Hmm- Max makes an annoyed face, leaving his helmet on the stand.

-That's cute, it's the middle of the night in the United States, isn't it?-Carlos asks her, all smiles.

-Yes, it's the middle of the night and he stayed up.-She doesn't hide her smile.

-Really the last of the romantics.-Max rolls his eyes.

-Stop being annoying, she's so happy.-Carlos watches her like a doting father.

Max glares at him, enough for the Spaniard to avoid him and stay quiet.

And of course, the next day, as always happens after every race, Joe sends her a huge bouquet, with a dedication and, when he is present, romantic letters.For most people around him, it is just his European or rather, Dutch humor.

But for those who actually live with him and see the mistakes he makes and notices, the way he treats her when she talks about other things and when she talks about Joe, they understand very well.

Max messed up her hair, trying to free her mind from those thoughts, from that feeling, but realized it was difficult.After another podium with her, another trip to a random bar with everyone involved, the country's biggest celebrities and everything else, he could no longer stand two things.

The first, Charles flirting even with the walls of the place.

The second, the fact that she trusted George more than him, to tell him the reason for her 37th breakup with Joe.

-I honestly don't understand you guys, one moment you say that distance is good, the next you break up because of distance, make up your mind damn it-George, tired of the situation, slammed his hand on the table.He fixed his hair, looked around and composed himself.

-Sorry man, I got carried away-He spoke like most people do sometimes, treating her like a man.

-I know it's not the most normal thing to do, but it tires me out-She said finally, she didn't want to waste her friend's night with this, much less make him occupy his mind with his problems.

She went to the bar to order another drink, without realizing who was next to her.

-Did you bump into something?-She heard someone ask and then looked to the side to see Max.

-What do you mean?-She immediately became confused.

-Your leg is kind of purple,-he says.

-Oh, let's just say I might have fallen on my suitcase- She rolls her eyes.

-It's the third time this season.-He holds back his laughter.

-She goes everywhere and sometimes it happens.-She shrugs.

-Your suitcase can make you more purple than your boyfriend, I think it's time to trade him for her.-Max takes a sip of his drink, savoring every note of it, satisfied with yet another mean comment about Joe. He knows how distance affects him and that's nothing more than a psychological game, sending indirect messages that hurt.

As always, she remained silent, discreetly observing her leg and trying to cover the bruise, with her face reddened.

-I can't blame him, he's going after his dream." She answers for the first time, even if a while later and too quietly, as if she wasn't even there anymore.

Until the girl asks herself, why is Max worried about this?

For a second, Max almost misses the destination of the glass, looking at her.

-Really, there are men whose only dream is to chase a ball, not to have trophies and a woman who loves him.-He takes the opportunity to retort.

-Thanks for ruining the rest of my night, Max, you're always so sensitive.-She answers, choked, finishes her drink and walks towards the exit with long strides.

Max remains there at the bar, staring at the various bottles, some full, others half full, thinking that once again she leaves angry with him, because he doesn't defend her dear Joe.

-You don't have to be so rude all the time, I know you're used to guys around here, but you have to realize that there are girls around here now and they deserve to be treated with kindness and affection, did you know that women are people too?Lewis appears at her side, irritated by the situation.

-Have you stopped talking, Lewis Senna Hamilton?He scoffed.

Max was already drunk enough to almost drag himself back to the hotel.

And even after spending the next few hours thinking about whether or not to knock on her door, as he always does when he’s drunk, he decided it wasn’t the right time.

When he woke up with the sun and that strange feeling, since that’s usually when he goes to sleep, thanks to the jet lag, he allowed himself the luxury of staying a few more minutes in that comfortable bed, under all those sheets, grabbing the fluffiest of his pillows to hug, trying to get it into his head that he was hugging her, trying to get it into his mind that he woke up next to her that morning, it seems he was so used to doing this every morning that with each passing day, the images became clearer in his mind and the sensations stronger.

And for the next race he had a surprise, he jumped out and took off his helmet and head protector, looking in disbelief at the smiling couple on the sidelines watching the track.

-Joe, should I congratulate you or say my condolences? Max gives his best sarcastic smile.

-I don't understand- Joe's radiant smile fades.

-What do you expect from a player? Max grumbles, he had meters around to pass and reach his destination, a screen to review his training, but he made sure to pass between the two, bumping into Joe.

He placed his helmet on the table next to him, silently completing the malicious thought, about his possible dubious qi, when he saw Joe approaching through the shadow on the ground, his smile only grew wider.

Kayleigh decided to leave, aware that they would have some kind of argument.

-I don't understand your stubbornness, Max- Joe confessed, watching Max from a few inches away.

-I say it over and over again, what can you expect from a player? Max rolls his eyes.

-And what are you, don’t you play in this?Joe retorts.

-I’m a pilot, it’s different-he says, convinced.

On the side of the track, tired and just waiting for time to pass, the topic, as always, was just one.

-Max is PMSing- Lando comments while sitting on the floor.

-We should take up a collection and pay a gynecologist, so she can prescribe some medicine, I don’t know- Hulkenberg adds.

-I think what he needs is a psychiatrist, one minute he’s calm, the next he wants to kill you, he’s crazy- Lewis concludes.

-He just needs some time to calm down, recharge his batteries and rest- George defends him.

But he ends up getting angry looks from everyone.

-For this and other reasons, I stay away from that snake pit they call Red Bull, God forbid I have to deal with that creature - Charles says, looking disdainfully at their reserved space.

-No offense, Kay- He makes his observation.

-No offense, I can't stand it anymore- She confesses.

-Not even Kayleigh throws this tantrum when she's on her period, honestly we don't even know when that happens, thanks for sparing us- Lando thanks her, making her laugh.

-I think there are certain details that aren't necessary- She comments.

Max walks past the group with firm steps.

-No one moves their ass in this place, then they complain about the podium- He sends the indirect message with his angry eyes.

Everyone there exchanges glances.

-Hold the Japanese- Ricciardo warns.

-Why? Charles finds the request strange.

-I’m warning you, hold the Japanese guy-he repeats.

And indeed, poor Tsunoda is at breaking point with Max.

Joe left, but Max’s sourness didn’t.

During breakfast at the hotel, Pierre’s strawberries were more sour than expected.

-Her boyfriend leaves and doesn’t get a bruise on his neck, he’s a real wimp- Max grumbles, savoring his waffles.

George’s eyes widen, he wipes his mouth with the napkin next to him.

-Max, how rude. He glances at Max out of the corner of his eye.

But Pierre has the most priceless face, he looks like he’s eaten something spoiled.

-Jesus, you weirdo, who says that, keeps an eye on others, has he become a tax inspector now? He left his comment.

-Watch out guys, there are people watching our necks- Lando dramatically covers his with his sweatshirt.

-I think you should start thinking about where and when you say certain things, Max- Carlos warns him, earning his laugh.

-Why? Do you know anything?” The Dutchman stared at him.

-Common sense Max, just common sense- he retorted.

-That was ridiculously sexist, Max, if that’s what you say, imagine what you think- Lewis gives him his best disapproving look.

-Have you finished your testimony Lewis?Max provokes him.

Max’s life became increasingly complicated there, with the boys and his provocations, little by little choosing to be alone, but not as much as Kayleigh's, who, in addition to having to put up with his mood swings, also has to put up with Joe's suspicions.

His jealousy used to have no name, but now it has a first and last name. Kayleigh only sees one reason for it, the fact that they work together, nothing else could make sense, andexplaining it doesn't seem to help, Joe found himself wondering why they exchanged smiling handshakes live, if she hates him so much.

-Do you really think that after the race, I'll remember how much I hate him? Of course not, Joe. I just think that I won or that I need to improve, hug everyone involved and leave. - She explains, pacing back and forth across the room.

-I don't want to be the annoying guy, but he doesn't look like he hates you, he seems to take advantage of your innocence. - Joe says almost desperately.

-What innocence, Joe? - She asks him.

-Kay, I don't want to fight over this guy. I'm just saying that this isn't something that makes me comfortable. You're walking around half the world with them in a place full of men working, next to several men, and that bothers me. Not only because of jealousy, I don't know, maybe they'll try to do something to you. -

-Jesus, Joe, don't say something like that. I understand your side, okay. I'm not saying you're wrong, but you need to trust me. I won't betray your trust. I haven't done that in all these years. Why would I do it now? - She tries to calm him down.

-Sorry for stressing you out. - He sighs heavily.

And it's been like this for a while.

Even when they're not at work, free to visit somewhere, Max seems to show up in the same place as her or simply in a place nearby, which makes Joe even more suspicious.

But Max couldn't stop there. When he saw her calmly standing there taking some notes, Max approached her with the excuse of seeing what she was writing down and it was then that he took the opportunity to bring his face too close to hers, which left her somewhat speechless. He placed his hand on her hip, giving her a discreet caress.

-Studying for the race, kitten?- He smiled at her reaction, a mix of confusion and embarrassment.

-Sorry Kay, I forget that you're sensitive to male touches. He laughed, leaving her blushing and finally going where he wanted.

She closed her eyes, not liking it at all. His provocations were getting more and more personal with Joe.

Whenever Max managed to get the slightest hint, he would walk away smiling.

But this time, George decided to confront him.

-You should be ashamed of touching women who are in a committed relationship inappropriately- he says, somewhat indignantly.

-Have you had your tea yet, dear English nobleman?" George rolls his eyes.

-Max, I'm serious, that's not cool, it could cause unnecessary confusion- he insists.

-You look so cute saying 'unnecessary'.Max laughs at the guy, who decides to get more serious.

-When Joe gets pissed off and comes to punch you in the face, don't tell me I never warned you.

-Before he punches me in the face, he'll punch you in the face, because you're the little friend who's always around, hugging and advising when they break up. Do you really think he's going to come after me, George?

-I'm in a committed relationship, I've never done this with bad intentions. He doesn't like the accusation.

-Wow, now I'm confused, is this a swing or a threesome? Max laughs to himself.

George stopped walking at the same moment, offended and even more shocked by another accusation.

When he realized it, Max took a few steps back and ruffled his hair.

-Just kidding, George, you're so cute.

But even his happiest days get bad when he sees the two of them together on social media, kisses, dates, more kisses. Max is sure that if Joe knew how jealous he is of him, for being able to love the woman he loves, he would definitely dig a hole to the center of the earth and stay there, far from Max's eyes.

He has thought countless times about using Joe's number saved on his phone, to send some manipulated photo or one that would have a double meaning, but knowing the two of them, he believes that even that would be reason to break up and get back together after a few days.

But it's these photos, the flowers, the letters, her giggles in the corners of the hotel, that make him freak out when he shouldn't. After being next to her in one of the endless meetings and noticing his new gift, a ring on her finger, that was enough for Max to find any reason to start stomping his feet and shouting. And sometimes he even measures her before the race, in the best possible way, as if he were casting a curse on her. -Damn, did you two fight? The boy asks her. -Honestly, I don't know, he left the meeting shouting, now he just looks at me like that. She sighs tiredly. At one of the parties, thanks to Charlie, he can talk to her a little. -You know, girls, sometimes we reach 200 kilometers per hour.He boasts, the trio of friends start drooling in French. -You could say that I am speed. He gives her his most seductive smile.

Max denied it and snorted.

-If I say something like that, I'll get a restraining order.- He takes a good sip of his drink.

-Also, with a sensitive mood like that, you can be sure that many would be afraid. She teased.

-So I don't have a chance? He used his playful tone.

-You're quite cheeky, you know. She lightly took his hand as a quick friendly caress, more for his level of need, that wasn't just a caress.

Max took her hand, lifting it and bringing it to his lips, finally leaving a caress there.

She was embarrassed, but she couldn't see any harm in anything Max did; for her, that was just an apology for the previous treatment.

But from that day on, it could be said that Max started to look at her more, in increasingly shameless ways.

Once again, with a podium in his hands, he waited for her, making sure to catch her eyes, just so she could see him measuring her completely, and she could see that it really affected her.

Or another time, when she was already embarrassed by him staring at her, while she watched the screen with the replay of some moments of the race, he caressed her face, giving her a wink.

She certainly doesn't know what to do with that.

Joe can't dream of that, while Max seems to love it.

But what she didn't expect was for someone to tell Joe about the flirting and say that she is increasingly cornered by the situation.

Unfortunately for Joe, in the middle of his season and fortunately for Max, in the middle of Joe's season.

One day after getting out of the car, Max was waiting for her, not giving her much space to walk away, the girl took off her helmet without knowing what that was, does he want to solve something? Are they going to slap each other or something like that? She wondered.

-How are you, Max? She looked at him.

-You were amazing, you know that? He spoke softly, raising his hands again to her hips and patting them a few times.

-Thanks, I have to go - she said, without giving Max any space. He wanted to know how she was when her only option was to be ridiculously close to him.

The group was confused, to say the least, they didn't know what the hell was going on and what the atmosphere was like.

As Max walked away with firm steps, when he saw that she was far away, he decided to try to get along with the Red Bull team.

-Sometimes I forget that she's not a guy - he laughed for no reason, but he's not like the other boys, who really do forget that she's the woman there. Max remembers who she is every second.

But Joe's situation is nothing that a phone call can't solve.

-Joe, I don't understand who told you that? He asked.

-Someone I trust- Joe justifies himself.

-Joe, I'm going to be honest, if I had the chance to sleep with her, you can be sure I would have done it already, as many times as I could and you can be sure that every time I lie down in my bed, I wonder why it hasn't happened yet and guess what, it's your fault- Max decides to be honest just to hear what Joe has to say.

-You're really brave to say something like that, you know? You know what, I'm going to kill you- Joe gets upset enough for Max to have some difficulty understanding what he's saying, the Dutchman gave his best laugh.

-You know, just a simple touch on her hip makes her all embarrassed, it makes me wonder how long it's been since she's been with a real man, but apparently I don't think that's ever happened, especially since she's only been with you- He continued his provocations.

-Joe, it's really cool that you're the cute guy who gives flowers after every race, gives gifts, writes letters, but if I were you I'd start to worry, because there are a lot of people watching her and I'm one of those people- Joe snorted from the other side.

-Because you can be sure that if I were her boyfriend, her legs wouldn't need a stupid touch to go weak, a simple look would be enough to make her remember a lot of things, things like that my friend, let's be honest, we're among friends here, you don't- Max stabbed the last time, hearing a sound of something breaking and he was sure it wasn't a glass but the phone.

Kayleigh almost didn't find out anything, they both avoided the subject just waiting for the other to tell.

But as the races went by, the atmosphere between Max and her seemed increasingly confused.

With the end of another race, Max lifted her up in a hug that at the moment, out of joy, she didn't stop to think about everything that was happening, but Joe did.

-The thing is, if it were me, it wouldn't be just fucking work- Joe shouted loud enough for her to have to pull the phone away from her ear.

-It was just a hug Joe, we've been together for I don't know three, four years, we work side by side, I understand your jealousy, don't think I don't understand, I do understand and in your place I would be like that too, I'll talk to him okay, I promise I'll talk to him and we'll work this out- She tries to calm him down having this idea.

-Kayleigh Hawkins I trust you, please don't make me lose that trust in you, I love you regardless of whether we can't spend a month together without breaking up, I don't know what I would do without you- He asks sighing heavily on the other side.

-I never did anything to make you doubt me, you know that Joe, if I didn't like you, I wouldn't be with you until today, swallowing all these breakups, just promise me that you'll calm down, okay? I love you - She says finally.

She went to sleep and tried to calm her mind, she needed to be calm and talk to Max the right way, she knows how he is, even if she's a little uncomfortable with all this extra contact they're having, there's no reason to do this to Joe, to let him suffer with a situation that's already driving him crazy, he's far away and the only thing she can do is trust that they're telling him the truth.

She got ready, took pictures with everyone who asked and went into the nightclub, this time looking for Max, the first thing she thought would be that he'd be at the bar, as he always does, but nothing.

She spotted George and it doesn't hurt to try.

She nudged him lightly so that he would lean in without leaving the circle of conversation.

-Have you seen Max? She asks him.

-Thank God I haven't seen Satan today. I heard he came to Earth in the body of this Max guy, but honestly I think Max is the one possessing the devil. George turns back to the group of friends. Okay, that's not the information she wanted to hear today.

She asked Lando the question, indiscreetly interrupting him and a girl she doesn't know, earning a free kick.

-Man, I haven't seen him - Pierre says, already out of habit in the male environment.

She sighs, imagining two hypotheses: either he's hiding out with some girls or he's gone back to the hotel.

She quickly makes sure to send a message to Joe, saying that he's definitely with some woman and that she's going to wait a little longer to look for him again. She rolls her eyes at having to do that, still feeling like she's going to be really embarrassed.

She picked up her drink and decided to walk around again until she saw him walking outside with his glass and sitting alone at a table.

She hurried, she needed to be quick, she didn't want anyone to arrive in the middle of the process.

When she walked through the door, it was clear that he found it strange that she went there, he gave her a small smile that was returned.

-Can I sit here? She politely asked for one of the empty seats.

He put his hands under the armrest of his chair with a big smile.

-You can sit wherever you want.

-Okay - she mumbled tensely.

-What do you need? He asked her, making her a little embarrassed.

If he was having a bad day, it could get even worse, so she decided to be as cautious as possible.

-Joe talked to me yesterday, he was a little upset about our hug, he got jealous of you and you know, I don't want that to get in the way of anything, not you, me or him, so if you could reduce the physical contact it would be a big help. She smiles nervously.

Joe said he's jealous? he asks with the same apathetic expression.

It was then that his laughter startled her.

-Yeah, I know, it's irrational. She quickly agrees, starting to lose her voice and blush with embarrassment, she didn't need to be making such a fool of herself, she thought.

Max froze when he heard that and with his best ironic tone, asked her to continue.

-We've known each other for years, we work together on the same team, it's crazy to say this, I'm really sorry for this boring conversation, but I promised him I'd talk to you, you know- she's already preparing for the next kick, he'd probably say it's a favor not to have to hug her and that would be the kindest thing she could imagine that could come out of his mouth.

-First of all, I'm an educated man, so I wouldn't be talking nonsense, smiling, complimenting, or any of that crap to someone I'm not interested in. We both know you're smart, you don't need to force it so much. She's in a mix of understanding and not understanding.

He looks at her and realizes he's only confused her even more.

-Tell your boyfriend, if he's jealous, he'll have to have the balls to come here to solve it - Max says, enjoying the situation.

-This will create an unnecessary situation, you know, you don't need all this for a misunderstanding- she explains again.

-Let me explain something to you, since you didn't have the tact to notice, from the damn moment I met you, well before I knew that this idiot was your boyfriend, I was already in love with you and something stopped me from talking to you, my girlfriend. Now I'm single and nothing stops me from talking to you. Are you going to say you never noticed? Her feet fell, as she tried to reason, she felt a cold hand go up her thigh. She froze there, not knowing what to do, looking at Max who had the most peaceful expression in the world.

She looked down, seeing the hem of her loose black dress rising higher and higher, exposing the area. She couldn't understand how Max, who distributes rudeness, now had a hand on her thigh. She delicately brought her hand to meet his, making eye contact with him again, but when she thought she would stop her hand, she only made him squeeze the spot and get even closer to where he shouldn't.

-Max I think you- She prepares to get up, but he is faster.

-Sit down, we're not done talking - he uses his most gentle tone, but even so it's hard to say anything.

-That idiot Joe has even threatened to kill me, you know, because he knows that I like you and I made one thing clear to him and now it's going to be clear to you, the only thing I need is for you to say yes, you know where my room is, it's always next to yours, it's not hard to find, when you get tired of this idiot you can knock on my door. - He walks away.

-That's not how it works, it's not about getting tired of my boyfriend -She is cut off.

-I don't know how and what you like about him, so yes, it's a matter of getting tired of him

Even with the shock, she stayed quiet and didn't say anything to anyone, she thought that would make things easier, but everything got worse with Max.

Now besides being a sweetheart, he's simply everywhere.

This includes grabbing her hand when she is focused on the training screens, indiscreetly measuring her and, what has caught the team's attention the most, the number of times he touches her hair.

On another day, finishing some notes about the current track, she doesn't know when he appeared, but he started massaging her shoulders, slowly moving up to her neck. The first thing she did was cough to discreetly send him away, which didn't help.

-You need to relax, Kay, you're too tense - he says quietly.

One of the guys on the team walked by them.

-I'm enjoying seeing you helping each other, Red Bull spirit - the guy leaves smiling.

-Max, that's enough, you're going too far -she says through clenched teeth.

-That's my specialty. He laughed, one of his arms serving as support so he could slide his hand down her spine as far as he could reach, slowly moving up, noticing her held breath.

-You need to relax, why don't you take a deep breath and let my hands help you?He suggested.

-I need you to stop with the double-meaning jokes - She asked.

He didn't answer, he just brought his fingers to the back of her neck, massaging the tips of them and moving down a little, he got as close as the backless bench would allow, pressing her head against his torso, and finally sliding his fingers from her jaw until they almost reached her lap.

-And what kind of massage is this? Can you explain it to me? She asked reluctantly.

-A casual massage, like any other, I think that massage is more about touching someone's skin until you see relaxation appear, and that angle of you is wonderful - He teased, aware that with the force used there it would be difficult for her to move.

-Max, I didn't know you could give a massage - Lando shouts from outside.

-That's great for those who wear a helmet.

-I'll have one - Lando says, and Charles agrees next to him.

-Me too.

-Sure, boys. I'll be right there when I'm done. He smiles at the two of them, who continue on their way.

-Why aren't you writing it down? Did you forget what you wanted? He gives his most fake tone of concern.

But by giving her the massage right there, he makes it difficult for her to say anything.

He then gently lowers his fingers and finishes, bending down a little so that he's at the height of her neck.

-Stop pretending you didn't like it. Considering that you're dating Joe and how much your skin is crawling, I think you should go to the bathroom and get yourself together - he pats her shoulder.

-It's great to see how satisfying these hands are, not just on the steering wheel. He laughs, walking away and giving her another wink. Kayleigh closed the notebook, wanting to bury her face in the ground. This can't be happening. Max can't be serious. But he is very serious and to make the test complete, he decided to tease her with a little more than words. The situation has already escalated to a point where she doesn't know if she can keep denying it and, worse, what to say to Joe when he calls at the end of the day and she has the same scared expression. Suddenly, the guy who was a jerk to everyone has become an angel with her and, on top of that, says he's in love with her, to the point of making a scene. The point is, she doesn't know how far he's going with the description, but Max knows well.

Tsunoda, who is next to the two, was a bit embarrassed by his face towards her and hers towards the floor. He doesn't know if coughing would help to start a conversation or if anything else, the atmosphere around them became unpleasant and even tense. 

She was grateful when she saw Carlo approaching, smiling as always, and greeted everyone, but before they could say anything. 

-We would make a beautiful couple, wouldn't we? He points at her, who freezes in disbelief. 

-Isn't she with Joe? Carlos asks. 

-I didn't ask about him, I'm talking about us. Tsunoda and Sainz stare at each other, not knowing what to say, along with her, who has wide eyes. 

-Of course, they would be great, she's very pretty and you - Carlos is cut off. 

-Really, she's beautiful. Max gives his best smile to Kay, who pretends not to have heard anything.

-I heard Lando calling me, bye guys. He left in a hurry without looking back. It didn't matter that they must have been there for an event or something, he would arrive at the last minute and that was it.

But her destination ended up being the same as his.

Max took advantage of the hotel corridor being empty, to reach her and hug her body from behind, holding her. Kay moved, trying to get out of the tight spot, and then Max decided to play it low, going up to her neck and nibbling it.

-Can't you see that it's crowded here, can't you see that this is going to hurt me? She asked him irritably, trying to stop him from continuing to caress her.

-You said that I always mistreated you, I'm just treating you the way I should, making my interests obvious to everyone. He replied.

And then only two breaths were heard in the hallway, Max continued the attack on her neck, sliding his hand until he reached the hem of the woman's pants where she quickly grabbed him.

-Are you going to run away again? You know that the more you run the better it is for me, because then I'll feel like I've won you over. He then released her, turning her to face him.

When he realized, he was against a wall in one of the many empty hallways, Max brought his hand to her face, squeezing her cheeks.

-Do you know how much it hurt me to spend four years of my life, seeing you with that clown, while you were always by my side? Do you know what it's like to see him deliver flowers, letters and then suddenly it all ends, you feel hope, then you come back and all this repeats itself over and over again, meanwhile, I'm the guy who's always here, do you know how horrible that is? He asked her somewhat irritated, not with her anymore, but with the situation.

-Not even when you were hospitalized after a crash, he showed up, like a good teammate I went there, do you understand now how much I need you to dump him and let me make you truly happy? he asked, letting his hand slip.

He steps away slightly, Kay runs her hands through her hair, messing it up, looking to one side nothing but an empty hallway, looking to the other the same and Max in front of her waiting for the answer.

-You guys break up all the damn time, break up with him, spend some time with me and then if you regret it, which I highly doubt, you go back to him. Max waits for her decision, staring at her.

-I can't... he quickly cuts her off.

-You can't throw away your childhood love, a beautiful childhood love that you see for three months and then only next year."

She swallows that.

-I may not be the nicest guy, nor as loved by everyone as he is, but I will be here and I know very well how much you want someone who is here. He gently takes her hand.

-You want someone who will hold your hand, praise you, watch you run, can do something stupid together, someone who understands you, someone who is not so fickle, someone who is here to wake up next to you, who will hug you at night, who can touch you and he can't do any of that but I can and I want to. The distance between the two became short again until the wall appeared.

Kayleigh took a deep breath and nodded slightly, she was afraid that she was under the effect of his power of persuasion and even more so of those eyes, but she couldn't deny it. She did miss Joe's presence, she loved him, not having him around was always the biggest obstacle.

And this obstacle would only have one solution, one of the two of them giving up their careers.

The fact is that once again they have been separated for a week, but as always she cries on the day and then pretends that nothing happened and they are together.

-We broke up last week - she begins, still thoughtful. -We can try, but I don't want anyone to know, because if nothing works out, I don't want it to become a mess, or for anyone to talk about it - she asks. -They'll start seeing me smile, it'll be kind of obvious - he approaches. -Are you sure?" He asks cautiously first. -Yes - he agrees. Max presses the elevator button, leaves a hand caressing her ear, preparing to finally kiss her for the first time. Max never hides his desire, much less his rush, but even so, he takes Kayleigh by surprise when he lets his hands roam guiltlessly over her body in that hallway.

He finally felt the weight, anger and hurt of all those years being thrown aside, being extracted from her body, he wouldn't say she wanted to wait so long, but being able to drive Joe crazy, just like he had been all this time was wonderful, now he finally has what he wants, her.

[ladykailolu]

Alright so here's some notes about the Uchiha family in a modern day slice of life Naruto verse in which everybody lives and nobody dies. Ok ready? Here goes:

Madara: Uchiha clan elder and leader. As he is in his 90s, he's slowed down quite a bit from his youthful days. His knees are the bane of his existence, stiff and sore as they are every day. So he walks slowly, using a cane, and remembers fondly the days when he would walk with a swift, purposeful gait and jump up the steps two, sometimes three at a time. He was so remarkably fit in his middle aged years that he could easily outcompete the younger men at games and sports. The only man he could never quite best is Hashirama Senju, one of his closest (and sadly one of his last remaining) friends. Now he enjoys the garden views from the tatami room in his house, relaxing with his pipe and coaching the youth in sports and games.

Obito: a cousin of Madara's and all the rest. Given that the clan is so populous, most of the exact lineages connecting clan members is nebulous, so most members refer to each other as cousins. He has the wildest sense of humor, occasionally dipping into the darker, more fucked up side of humor. Often clumsy and ends up the butt of jokes. Isn't viewed highly by Madara because of his average physical abilities (he isn't very good at sports but damn it if he doesn't try his best at least). Still, Madara remarks often that Obito has the capacity to improve at damn near anything he does if he only could focus on one thing at a time. May have ADD.

Itachi: the oldest of his generation of Uchiha youth. Dutiful and quickly became accustomed to the babysitter role. A stereotypical cool kid, excels in school, a model student. A bit short on the social side, prefers to spend most of his time not babysitting in the library of the Uchiha complex. Has a bit of a smart mouth. Loves animals, especially crows and ravens. Often seen feeding the birds in the courtyard. Sometimes the crows and ravens come back and leave little gifts for him--a shiny piece of glass, a discarded plastic bottle cap, a few small money bills lol

Sasuke: the youngest of his generation of Uchiha youth. Thought of affectionately as the baby of the family. Oh boy, he hates that title so much that it makes his blood boil lol. Good at sports as a kid, much, much better and show-offy as a teenager. A smart mouth and more likely to talk back to others than his brother. Also more likely to get a mean smack across the mouth and shunned for his disrespect. Spoken of most fondly in secret by the clan adults. He's smart, talented, and has great promise if only he could keep his attitude in check.

Fugaku: typical blue collar dad. Works hard at his job as policeman, and comes home to enjoy a beer, watch sports then bed. Not very chatty with his wife, marriage is rather traditional. Loves sports, especially American baseball and football, and watches them religiously all throughout the year. Is on a fantasy football league with Asuma, texts him in real time the play by play of games. Used to be a star athlete in his youth.

[hadesisqueer]

I'm bored so I'm rating sports I did at school in gym class when I was a kid judging by how good I was at it compared to my classmates.

Football/Soccer/Whatever you call it: 6/10. I wasn't that good at it but I could do a couple of tricks with the ball and I liked fighting for the ball. The boys in my team never gave me the ball though.

Voleyball: 0/10, I fucking sucked at it.

Baseball: 5/10, I wasn't that bad but I was slower when I had to run.

Tennis: 2/10, I fucking sucked too lmao, just slightly less bad than at voleyball.

Basketball: 8/10. I wasn't as fast or as tall as some of the other kids but every time I was close to the basket they gave me the ball because I had great aim.

Handball: 6/10. Kinda the same thing with basketball, I was slower than some other kids but good aim did the trick lmao.

Rollerblading: 1/10. I kept fucking falling, man.

Gymnastics: 0/10. I won't elaborate.

Badminton: 6/10. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing but I was good compared to the others lmao.

Just athletism (running, high jump, long jump, etc): 3/10. I was slow and couldn't jump lmao. I was good at throwing things though.

Archery: 10/10. We did it for several classes when I was in Year 6 and I had the best aim in the whole class. It's true that I already had a small wooden bow and arrows at my place my dad bought me and I practiced a lot on my own for fun, though. So of course I was better lmao.

Rugby: 3/10. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing and I sucked lmao.

Dancing: 3/10. I fucking hated it man.

(Field) Hockey: 10/10 (again, compared to my classmates lol). I had never played before Year 4 and yet as soon as my teacher explained the rules and gave us the sticks I started kicking my classmates' ass to the point that every time we had to play hockey, the same two guys who always ended up as captains wanted me on their teams before anyone else lmao (that never happened before lol). I swear if there had been a hockey team at my town I would have joined because I really had fun tbh, first sport I ever truly loved playing.

Dodgeball: 5/10. Eh. I had good aim but I always got hit too.

[pianokantzart]

Hi!! I absolutely love your Mr. L comic!! Also, I love that piece of Mario Movie concept art that shows the bros' room (the one with Mario sitting on the bed playing video games) because each side of the room gives so much insight into their personalities/interests! Luigi's side has a microscope and also a bunch of model robots and racecars, which would suggest a science/engineering interest. Mario's side has a football helmet and a baseball, which implies that he was in multiple sports in high school. There's a Beastie Boys poster right in the middle of the room, which to me suggests that both of them like that band and probably jam out to it together. Headcanon central over here

Thank you!

Yes, I love their room design so much!! I wish I had a chance to get a better look at it in the movie, but thankfully we have concept art.

Unfortunately, The Beastie Boys poster got replaced with that VWA wrestling poster in the final product (probably for copyright reasons), but that makes me wonder if... 1. VWA is an actual real life wrestling competition in this universe 2. Wrestling is on the long long list of sports Mario's interested in (he did referee boxing in the game universe after all)

Given the look of his wall it seems like Mario dabbled in literally every sport he could growing up, though I headcanon that for financial reasons he only keeps up tennis and baseball to this day (which is still a lot for a guy with a full time job.)

On Luigi's headboard there's a box for a Star Fox model kit, which pretty much confirms that he was the one who made the Arwing hanging over the television, and given the camera he was 100% the one who took all the photos hanging on the cork board and on the wall. I like the implication he's more inclined to hobbies that are slow and quiet and require a lot of patience.

Also! On Mario's side of the room there's sports trophies while on Luigi's side of the room there's little ribbons on the wall, like what one would earn at a science fair or an art contest...

... Or a robotics competition, because I am perfectly normal about the idea of Luigi being a skilled mechanic who builds/fixes things and that one day becoming an established part of Movie Verse canon.

[ohwhatagloomyshow]

tag game ✨ get to know me!

tagged by @gemmafuckingscout thank you for the tag!!! <3 I will also put under a read more out of respect for everyone's dash lmao

1) are you named after someone? technically! my dad's great aunt on his father's side died when he was nine (he never met her) and when he overheard his folks talking about her he thought "that is the most beautiful name i've ever heard and if I have a daughter that will be her name" and my mom was nice enough to accommodate that!

2) when is the last time you cried? oh fuck uhhhhh. i was very close to crying last weekend but didn't!!! i am due for a bout of tears certainly!!

3) do you like your handwriting? it is illegible :) but i'm used to it now! so I guess i like it!

4) what is your favorite lunch meat? ham, then lebanon bologna

5) do you have kids? one cat who is my son!!! cat tax

6) if you were another person, would you be friends with you? i'd like to think so! i think i'm funny and sincere which are two good things to have in a friend.

7) do you use sarcasm? all the time! (sincere) my style of humor is very dry.

8) do you still have your tonsils? yeah!

9) would you bungee jump? no! :)

10) what is your favorite kind of cereal? i am currently on a rice krispies kick actually

11) do you untie your shoes when you take them off? not if i can help it (i don't wear shoes that tie very much actually)

12) do you think you're a strong person? i have been forced to be resilient, so i'm strong but not of my own free will :) physically i used to be stronger and would like to get back into lifting.

13) what is your favorite ice cream flavor? it's specifically ben & jerry's vanilla bc it was the ice cream i had the most as a kid

14) what is the first thing you notice about people? this is weird but i love watching how much someone uses their face to emote. if a person is really expressive i know they're someone i can trust.

15) red or pink? red but i've recently grown fonder of pink bc it's my spouse's favorite color (not that i've ever had anything against pink!)

16) what do you least like about yourself physically? all of my extra fat goes in my belly and i dislike that >:( go to my boobs, at least.

17) what color pants and shoes are you wearing now? gray sweats and no shoes

18) what was the last thing you ate? a bowl of rice krispies lmao

19) what are you listening to right now? the sound of my keys typing and one of the air conditioners in this building running

20) if you were a crayon, what color would you be? maybe a yellow or a gold? i try to bring that bright energy with me, but my favorite color is maroon.

21) favorite smell? LILAC. then hyacinths. then cinnamon/clove

22) who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? the FMLA people through my job LMAO (i'm good, I took FMLA to take care of my dad!) and then my dad :)

23) favorite sport to watch? probably football actually but i love me a live baseball game.

24) hair color? pink! originally light brown!

25) eye color? blue

26) do you wear contacts? never once in my life (glasses forever)

27) favorite food to eat? pasta.

28) scary movies or comedy? comedies!!

29) last movie you watched? Mulholland Dr. with my dad, who hated it :)

30) what color shirt are you wearing? black!

31) summer or winter? summer! even though my tolerance for heat decreases every year! i like being able to leave the house in sandals and without a jacket. (which also applies to spring and fall, technically)

32) hugs or kisses? hugs! did you know you have to hug somebody for 30 seconds for the Feel Good Chemicals in your brain. that's so fuckin long.

33) what book are you currently reading? don't be impressed by this bc i haven't read one book at a time since i was 18/19 but: just started catching fire by suzanne collins, recently started the eyes are the best part by monika kim, slogging through our hideous progeny by c.e. mcgill (strong start! suddenly extremely slow around the 35% mark!), and i've been sloooowly inching my way into the wise man's fear by patrick rothfuss

34) who do you miss right now? my dnd friend shannon i cannot emphasize enough how much i love them

35) what is on your mouse pad? my one at home is black and at work it has the logo for the graduate student gov't association which i got for free by being nice to them at an orientation event two years ago lmao

36) what is the last tv program you watched? i think i showed dad the first episode of severance after the first episode of twin peaks, so, that, lol

37) what is the best sound? same as prev, cats purring, but also my spouse when they're really happy :,)

38) rolling stones or the beatles? the beatles! i had to learn about the beatles on my own bc my dad's autistic ass was devoted to van halen, lmao, and it's very cool that i did bc that was my first convo with my spouse!! about the beatles!! who both of us don't really listen to at all anymore lmao

39) what is the farthest you have ever traveled? ein gedi and the dead sea when i studied abroad in 2013!

40) do you have a special talent? I'm pretty good with actor recognition in movies/TV but I don't know if i'd call that a particularly special talent.

41) where were you born? The Sweetest Place On Earth®

42) people you expect to participate in this? no expectations! but i will tag @hellhoundmaggie @muse-of-fire @veggiesforpresident @coachlasso @glamdraculadracula @scoutstulips @heavensdoors2 @actual-lea and anyone else who thinks this sounds fun (tag me!)!!

[sportincinema]

There is one huge oversight when it comes to the success of the sports genre, though. The soccer movie. The beautiful game has never looked as alluring when it has been made for the big screen. Sure, Escape To Victory is an enjoyable romp, Bend It Like Beckham is undeniably feelgood, and Michael Sheen has never been better as Brian Clough in The Damned United. But even in these films, the shots, passes, and tackles are too choreographed. Goalkeepers look as if they’re moving out of the way of shots instead of saving them. The pace of the game is too languid. There’s a complete absence of technique. You can never really tell where players are on the pitch, which itself often looks too small. It’s also incredibly difficult for a director to shoot a prolonged sequence of play, while any edits or use of slow-motion immediately makes the game look unnatural. It’s notable that soccer looks best on screen when the action is real: as in the recent Netflix David Beckham documentary or Zidane: A 21st Century Portrait. (...) So what needs to change in order to right this cinematic wrong? “You just can’t script a film in the same way as a real soccer match,” says Kyle Kusz, an associate professor of kinesiology at the University of Rhode Island. “Baseball and football are more static, they stop and start, and don’t have the flow of soccer.” This gives film-makers a chance to build up the tension of these isolated moments, as audiences wait to see if a quarterback can throw a touchdown, a batter can smash a baseball out of a stadium, or a boxer can knockout his opponent. For Franklin Leonard, a film and television producer and the founder of The Black List, “conventional western, particularly American, storytelling tropes about a single hero doesn’t suite the nature of [soccer], which is fundamentally communitarian. It’s never just one person winning anything. It’s a team sport.”

Gregory Wakeman, Why has Hollywood failed to produce a truly great soccer movie? (2023)