#this is a man who said he would play soccer if he could so...

[drysaladandketchup]

drai committing to the play + pleading (yelling) his case to the stripped overlords

EDM vs. CGY Heritage Classic || Oct 29, 2023

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[itneverendshere]

school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron blurb (+18)

warnings: future smut. paring: smart!reader x himbo!rafe; ps: this is just for fun cause someone asked me to post it (it was just a draft😬)

you’ve never been one for academic sports spirit.

what’s the point? okay, your school has incredible athletes, that’s good, but why the fuck would you kiss and praise the ground they walk on? you’re a fantastic student and no one gives a shit. why do they get all the glory while brainiacs get zilch?

the double standards piss you off. somehow academics always take the backseat to sports. maybe that explained your dislike towards jocks like rafe cameron.

up until sophomore year, you’d only heard about him, saw him occasionally around school. it was understandable why people talked about him so often. he looked like he’d just been ripped off a page of an abercrombie and fitch catalog, and apparently – you’d never attended a game to check – he was the best player on the team, playing forward. but, unlike many, you didn’t form an opinion about him until you met him.

the verdict? total pain in your fucking ass.

ever since you two were paired in a class project together, an annual class at that, he suddenly took an interest in you, like you were some sort of exotic animal he’d never encountered in his life, only because you wouldn’t flirt with him.

outrageous, never done before.

for the first four months, it was just him laying on the cheesy pickup lines and you rolling your eyes so hard you thought they'd pop out of your head. eventually, rafe dialed it down and you were able to be civil, perhaps friends. if you could call it that.

wich is why, as his friend, you’re starting to lose your fucking patience. the season was not going well for his team. at all. there’s little to no chance they’re going to be able to win the championship.

not that you care, but apparently the whole school does. everyone seems to be on the verge of a meltdown.

“i swear to god if they lose to standford next week–“

“pope, will you kindly shut the fuck up? it’s just soccer.”

“just soccer?”

you let out an exasperated sigh, glancing over at pope who looks at you like you’ve just shot someone, “can we study? peacefully?”

"it’s not just soccer! it's about school spirit, camaraderie, y’know?"

you raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. "camaraderie? please. more like a bunch of testosterone-fueled egos chasing after a ball," you retort, disdain evident in your tone.

“you don't know what you're talking about. and i'm being dead serious, cameron’s been on edge lately. never seen him like this."

you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms. "yeah, well, losing does that to people. don't why you're complaining soooo much" you sigh, "i’m the one who has to put up with all the brooding and pouting.”

pope’s quiet. too quiet. you can picture the gears turning in his brain as he blankly stares at you. nothing good ever comes out of that.

“what?” you press, wondering if you have to break the school spirit out of him.

“you should fuck him. after or before, don't care. but you should."

you recoil, nearly tumbling out of your chair at pope's suggestion.

your eyes widen in disbelief, your mind struggling to process what he just said. for a moment, the room spins around you, and you feel like you’ve been thrust into some surreal alternate universe.

“what?! pope?" you finally manage to sputter, acting like you're about to go into cardiac arrest, "the fuck's wrong with you?"

“don’t look at me like that,” he merely shrugs, “that man is depressed. he needs to get laid if he’s going to win something.“

you hardly think a guy like rafe is not getting laid every other day, but that’s irrelevant. your jaw drops, stunned by his audacity. "are you kidding me? you don’t even like him!”

“but i like winning!” he whines, all but pushing his books aside to place in his elbows on the table, “and he’s so obsessed with you it hurts watching. he’s like one of those little crusty white dogs always running after you.”

you shake your head in disbelief, "he does it to be funny, okay? he’s not actually interested.. t's just a joke”

your best friend only laughs, a raucous, almost maniacal sound that echoes through the room. he clutches his stomach, "just joking?" pope gasps out, his laughter still bubbling to the surface. "oh man. you're hilarious, honestly, wow."

you stare at him, lips set in a straight line, feeling like you missed the entire joke. "what's so funny?"

pope wipes away a fake tear, trying to compose himself. "he almost ripped a new one to jj after he pulled that stunt last semester.”

your eyebrows knit together in skepticism. “and? i still don’t follow.”

rafe and jj couldn’t stand each other. both are incredible athletes and everyone always gushes about how great they are together on the field. outside, however? not so much. they don't mix. ever.

“and?! why do you think jj randomly talked about you in the locker room?”

“because he’s a horny creep and got a kink for fist fights with undressed men?”

you love jj. really, you do. but sometimes he’d win a lot more if he just kept his mouth shut or thought before speaking. you've lost count of how many times that boy has been suspended.

pope leans in, his tone low and conspiratorial, “cameron practically threatened to rearrange jj's face if he ever mentioned you again.”

you narrow your eyes, “nop. you’re making that up.”

pope shakes his head, a grin playing on his lips. "nah, i'm dead serious.”

your mind races, trying to piece it all together. while your brain always clicks instantly in class, feelings...emotions are a little more complicated to grasp sometimes.

"wait, so you're saying he actually cares about me?"

he nods, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "yep.”

“seriously?”

pope chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "head over heels. you’re our school’s only hope.”

your brain's on overdrive trying to process pope's bombshell revelation. rafe cameron, the big-shot jock, actually giving a fuck about you? it's like some twisted plot line from a teen drama. you didn’t see this one coming. but then again, you hardly pay attention to anything outside academics.

“so what? ’m supposed to fuck the mediocrity out of him?”

he grins, clapping you on the shoulder, “there’s that school spirit!”

you slap his hand away, “oh fuck off. ‘m being serious.”

he’s still grinning like he just cracked the code to life. "come on, hear me out. it's like a strategic move, y’ know? boost his morale, boost the team's performance. win-win."

you roll your eyes, not buying into his scheme. "yeah, because my sex habilities are definitely the key to winning soccer games."

he shrugs, undeterred. "it's not like you'd be doing it for him. it's all about the greater good."

you scoff, rearranging your notes for the millionth time, "this isn't some feel-good sports movie."

it’s not like you never thought about rafe. sure, he's a yapping idiot around you most of the time, but every time you need help or an extra hand, he’s always the first one to offer. that has to count for something, right?

“the ball’s in your court.”

yeah it is.

truth to be told, you’ve been sick and tired of rafe acting like a loser over soccer. what was the point in whining about it if he wasn’t going to try and do better? god, you'd never seen him like this before and it's been irking you to beyond. even more now that pope mentioned it again.

at this point, you just want to march up to him, shake him and make it come to his senses. you can’t even remember that last time he tried to hit on you. that’s how bad it is! the memory is buried under the weight of his brooding.

so maybe….maybe pope's onto something, y'know? maybe there's more to it than just you and rafe. and yeah, okay, you're not exactly thrilled about the idea of hopping into bed with him, but only because you’d hate the attention that comes along with his name.

but...a part of you is weirdly intrigued. not because you're dying to be his next conquest, but because you're just done with watching him drown in his own misery. maybe this could be the wake-up call he needs. a swift kick in the ass to snap him out of his funk.

you wouldn’t be doing out of selfish reasons! school spirit and all. you’d be doing everyone a favor. and you wouldn't need to blame it on yourself if things went downhill.

you had pope for that.

which is why you’re standing in front of rafe's room in his frat.

a jock and a frat boy? charming. you’ve certainly hit the jackass lottery. but you’ve been here before. he always saved the day when the library was packed or when your roommate was too busy fucking her boyfriend in your dorm room. this was weirdly your safe place to work.

taking a deep breath, you rap your knuckles against the door, trying to ignore the butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach. it's not about you! get a grip.

the door swings open, and there's the fucker, all brooding and rugged, like he just walked off the set of a sports movie. you roll your eyes at the cliché, but there's something weird about the way he looks at you. or maybe the tight wife-beater is doing a number on you.

you still notice the bags underneath his swollen eyes.

there's a flicker of surprise in him, like he wasn't expecting to see you, out of everyone in this school, standing there and you can't blame him; after all, you're not exactly a regular visitor to the frat house, only when your academic needs force you to.

“hey?”

“you look like shit, cameron.”

rafe's eyebrows raise in surprise at your blunt remark, “uh, what?”

you roll your eyes resisting the urge to scoff. "can i come in or are you going to stand there looking like an idiot all day?”

rafe chuckles, stepping aside to let you into his room, “come on in.”

you step inside, taking in the cluttered room with a mixture of amusement and mild disgust. it was never this bad before, you know rafe’s a clean freak and this? this is not him. but it is exactly how you imagined a frat boy's room would look like—dirty.

there’s laundry strewn across the floor, empty beer cans littering the desk, and a distinct musky smell lingering in the air. you shake your head in disbelief, shooting rafe a disapproving look.

"what are you? a divorced forty-five-year-old man?”

rafe laughs at your comment, though there's a hint of embarrassment in his expression as he scratches the back of his neck. "yeah, i know. sorry about that."

he’s doing worse than what you realized and it tugs a little at your heartstrings.

you raise an eyebrow, unconvinced by his apology. "sorry doesn't cut it, cameron. you should be ashamed of yourself.”

"okay, fair point. i'll clean up, promise."

“not just your stupid room. i mean your whole attitude. you've been moping around like a loser!”

rafe's expression shifts, defensiveness crossing his features. "hey, ‘m not—"

"don't even try to deny it," you interrupt, not backing down. "everyone’s noticed. you’re pissing me off.”

you don’t know why you’re suddenly so tempted to give him the scolding of a lifetime, but there’s just something about seeing someone with so much potential and drive wasting it all away without a fight. it’s not like him.

and by the kicked-puppy look on his face, you can tell he's not used to being called out so openly. but you're dead set on breaking through to him, no matter how awkward it gets.

“see! you’re just staring at me like—like, a fucking idiot!”, you fire off, frustration lacing your tone. the irony of the situation isn't lost on you. “will you speak for gods sake? for more than five seconds? i spent months trying to get you to shut up and now you do?”

rafe's stunned expression makes you second guess your approach for a moment, but you push the feeling aside, knowing you can't afford to let sympathy cloud your purpose here.

“why are you mad at me?”

you can't believe he's still clueless after all this time.

"why am i mad at you?" you repeat incredulously, feeling the irritation rising your my chest. "seriously, rafe? have you even looked in the mirror lately?"

he blinks at you, his confusion evident, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"you've been moping around like the world's about to end.”

rafe's brows furrow even further, and for a moment, you wonder if he's playing dumb or if he genuinely has no idea what you’re talking about. "i don't—uh, i don't understand," he finally stammers out, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

that’s it.

you’re gonna pull the feelings card and hope it doesn’t backfire.

“do you like me?” you blurt out, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

rafe snorts as he lifts his finger to scratch his face, “course i do. pretty obvious.”

for a second you get a glimpse of the real rafe and it soothes you inside.

“and you want to fuck me?”

you’ve never seen him look so gobsmacked in his life, you’d laugh in his face if it wasn’t such a serious matter.

“what?” he stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly. you can’t believe the rafe cameron is blushing. over you.

you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "do you want to fuck me? do i need to spell it out for you?”

he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, and you can't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at finally catching him off guard, “’m sorry? is this—are you…is this for punk’d?”

"punk'd? seriously, rafe?" you snap, incredulous that he would think this is some sort of prank, “it’s 2024.”

rafe's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, and he stammers again "no, i mean— i just...didn't expect you to— uhh”

“yes or no.”

rafe blinks at you before breathing out, “yes.”

“okay. so win your next match and you will.”

he looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, exhaling through his nose, trying to keep his agitation to a minimum. “what?”

“i’m sick and tired of this version of you. i need you to win, and if this” you gesture to the both of you with your hand, “is your motivation, then we’re doing it.”

"y’serious?" he takes a step closer, his demeanor suddenly more serious, “me and you?”

you nod firmly, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilt your head up to look at his features, “dead serious. and it’s not just you and me. it’s for the team, and for the school spirit or whatever nonsense pope keeps going on about."

rafe lets out a small chuckle, a hint of his usual cocky confident demeanor returning. "is that so? can't say no to that kind of motivation."

“i figured.”

he reaches out a hand, his fingers lightly grazing the strands of your hair, eyes fixed on your lips. "are there any rules?”

you swallow hard, feeling your heart race at his touch. “no, just win.”

rafe's lips curl into a playful smirk— the money-making smirk that makes you want to punch him and kiss him, not necessarily in that order — as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"never would've guessed you'd be the one to offer yourself as my motivation, though," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, "i'm surprised."

you try to maintain your composure, but his proximity is making it increasingly difficult to think straight. "just doing what needs to be done," you manage to stammer out, trying to sound perfectly unaffected by his words.

rafe chuckles softly, his hand still lingering in your hair as he leans back slightly to look at you. "my pretty prize, huh?" he says, his tone teasing as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.

you feel a flush spread across your features at his boldness. you blame him entirely for this side of you. without thinking, you reach up to brush your fingers against his cheek, tips pressings against his skin lightly.

“just win the fucking match, cameron."

rafe's nasty smirk widens into a heart-stopping, soul-gripping grin as he leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.

"consider it done."

[bokutosbabe]

Daylight

( bllk boys as dads )

a / n — please i love these men a little too much. PREPARE TO BE SICK OF ME

content — aged up! characters, bllk characters x reader, fluff, children mentioned(obviously), character and reader are married, had randomized names given to me for the kids, went crazy with bachira- he's just so girl dad coded, let's act like the WC didnt FUCK kunigami up, idk what happened with the format on kunigamis sorry, isagi yoichi x reader, bachira meguru x reader , rensuke kunigami x reader

synopsis — just a few of the blue lock boys as dads :,)

✿.｡. “ and i can still see it all in my mind , ” .｡.✿

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ISAGI YOICHI

— have yall seen this mans dad? literally so supportive

— is at every single sporting event no matter what!

— has embarrassed both you and your son on many occasions

— doesn't understand this is a LITTLE LEAGUE soccer game

you didn't understand why children's soccer games had to be played in the middle of summer at the hottest time imaginable. while you were silently suffering from the heat, your husband was far too into the game going on. "Come on, Kazuki! Get in there!" Isagi's voice boomed across the field, startling some of the other parents. Your cheeks flushed with a mix of pride and embarrassment as you gave him a gentle nudge. "Yoichi, they're just kids," you whispered, trying to temper his competitive spirit. "Let them have fun." every game day was like this. isagi would get so intense over kazuki, who was spectacular for his age, that he would forget where he was for a bit. there were literally other kids sitting down and picking flowers, it was never as serious as your pro soccer player husband believed. Kazuki, his eyes shining with determination, managed to dribble past an opponent and take a shot at the goal. The ball soared through the air and... missed. Isagi groaned loudly, drawing curious and amused glances from the other parents. "Come on, Kazuki! You can do better than that!" Isagi yelled, his fists clenched. You placed a hand on his arm, giving him a warning look. "Yoichi, relax. He's trying his best." with that, the game was over. kazuki's team had still won 3-2, but you could tell that your son was disappointed in himself over the last shot. Kazuki ran over to you both, his face flushed with something that looked like embarrassment and shame. "You did great, Kazuki!" you said, kneeling down to hug him. "We're so proud of you." Isagi crouched beside you, ruffling Kazuki's hair. "You were awesome out there, buddy. I just got a little carried away. Sorry if I embarrassed you." maybe isagi got a little too into the games, but he always apologized after, it had become somewhat of a ritual at this point. " it's fine! did you see my super cool dribbling? uncle bachira taught me!!" yeah, your husband's enthusiasm got the better of him sometimes, but if there was one thing you knew for certain: kazuki couldn't be prouder of his dad and isagi couldn't be prouder of kazuki.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ BACHIRA MEGURU

— girl dad, girl dad, GIRL FREAKING DAD

— constantly doing your daughters hair

— you come home from work to find the both of them with butterfly clips in their hair at least 3 days out of the week

You pushed open the front door, feeling the weight of the day’s stress clinging to your shoulders. It had been one of those days at work where everything seemed to go wrong, and all you wanted was to collapse on the couch and forget about it all. As you stepped into the living room, you were greeted by a heartwarming sight that instantly began to melt away the tension that you'd felt in your shoulders. There, sprawled out on the floor, were Bachira and your daughter, Sora, both fast asleep. The room was a delightful mess of colored markers, sketchbooks, and an array of hair accessories scattered around them. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of Bachira with his hair adorned in a myriad of butterfly clips and sparkly barrettes, clearly the result of a spirited father-daughter play session. Sora’s hair was similarly decorated, her small hand still clutching a purple clip. Carefully, you tiptoed closer, trying not to disturb their peaceful slumber. As you knelt beside them, you noticed the soft rise and fall of their chests, their expressions serene and content. You reached out to gently remove a clip from Bachira’s hair. making precautions so it wouldn't get tangled in, but as you did, his eyes fluttered open. He blinked up at you, a sleepy but mischievous smile spreading across his face. “Hey there,” he whispered, his face adorning his usual childish grin. “Rough day?” You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yeah, but seeing you two like this makes it so much better.” Bachira sat up slowly, careful not to wake Sora. He pulled you into a gentle hug, his warmth and the familiar scent of him providing a comforting balm to your frazzled nerves. “We had a lot of fun,” he murmured into your hair. “Sora wanted to have a ‘beauty salon’ day. I think I’m her favorite customer.” Sora stirred beside you, her eyes slowly opening. She blinked sleepily at you both, then broke into a wide smile. “Mommy, you’re home! Look at Daddy’s hair! I made him so pretty!” You leaned down to kiss her forehead. “You did an amazing job, sweetheart. I love it.” Sora giggled, sitting up and wrapping her small arms around your neck. “Can we do your hair next, Mommy?” You laughed, feeling the last of the day’s stress melt away completely. “Absolutely. But first, how about we clean up a little and get some dinner?” In that moment, surrounded by the people you loved most, you knew that no matter how stressful the days could be, you would always have this beautiful, chaotic sanctuary to come home to.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ RENSUKE KUNIGAMI

— has always wanted to be a hero

— having his son made that dream become a reality

— will be playing in his pro games and points to the family section you and your son are sitting in

— plays his heart out for you two

The stadium was buzzing with excitement as fans filled the stands, the atmosphere electric with anticipation. You held your son's hand tightly as you made your way to the family section, both of you decked out in Kunigami's team colors. Your son, Haru, was practically bouncing with excitement, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of the massive stadium.

"Mom, look! There’s Dad!" Haru pointed eagerly towards the field, where Kunigami was warming up with his teammates. His hero, his dad, looked every bit the powerful and determined athlete he admired so much.

You smiled, giving Haru's hand a gentle squeeze. "Yes, there he is. Are you excited to watch him play?" Haru nodded vigorously, his face lit up with joy. "He's gonna score a goal today, I just know it!"

As the game began, you settled into your seats, Haru practically on the edge of his. The first half was intense, with both teams displaying incredible skill and determination. Kunigami was in top form, his presence on the field commanding and inspiring.

Then, in the second half, the moment you and Haru had been waiting for arrived. Kunigami received the ball, skillfully maneuvering past the defenders with a combination of strength and finesse. The crowd’s roar grew louder with each step he took towards the goal.

"Go, Dad! You can do it!" Haru shouted, his voice full of unbridled enthusiasm. Kunigami glanced towards the family section for just a moment, his eyes locking onto yours and Haru’s. You could see the fire and determination in his gaze, the unspoken promise he made to his son to always be his hero.

With a powerful kick, Kunigami sent the ball soaring past the goalkeeper and into the net. The stadium erupted in cheers, the sound nearly deafening. Kunigami's teammates rushed to him, celebrating the goal, but his eyes were fixed on you and Haru.

He pointed directly at you both, his expression a mixture of pride and love. You could almost hear the words in your mind: “This is for you. Your hero is here.”

Haru was beside himself with excitement, jumping up and down, waving his arms wildly. "Mom, did you see that? Dad scored! He did it!" You pulled Haru into a tight hug, tears of joy welling up in your eyes. "Yes, sweetheart, he did. Your dad is amazing."

As the game continued, Kunigami played with renewed vigor, his goal having given his team the boost they needed. When the final whistle blew, signaling their victory, the crowd’s cheers echoed around the stadium.

After the game, you and Haru were escorted down to the field to meet Kunigami. Haru ran ahead, throwing himself into his father’s arms.

"Dad, you were awesome! Just like a superhero!" Kunigami laughed, lifting Haru high into the air before bringing him back down for a tight hug. "Thanks, buddy. I told you I'd score a goal for you."

✿.｡. “ all of you, all of me, intertwined ” .｡.✿

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

i may write more parts for this, i really liked it!

[afictionaladventure16]

The Longest Night (Tim Bradford X Foster!Teen!Reader)

The Rookie Masterlist

Word Count: 3,832

Warnings: Mentions of death and blood

Summary: It's towards the end of Tim's shift when he gets a call on the radio about a nearby car accident, but when he arrives, he doesn't expect his world to turn upside down.

The day began like any other, Tim got up before sunrise and prepped a quick breakfast before getting himself ready. By then y/n was up and dressed and eating her breakfast. Over the past two years, they had a routine that they strictly followed. At first, the life of fostering a young teen was challenging for Tim, especially with his schedule but he was determined to help the young teen. He saw so much of himself within her. 

Getting y/n to open up to him was another challenge. It took a while, but eventually, she learned how to trust Tim and now she felt like Tim was the father she never had. There were times when she had to stop herself from calling him ‘dad,’ even though she knew he wouldn’t mind. She felt like it wasn’t appropriate since she knew that one day she would only be a distant memory. 

Towards the end of his shift, Tim was over it. He was ready to go home and start his weekend. More importantly, he was excited to go to y/n’s soccer game tonight. He knew he was going to be the loudest one in the crowd, cheering you on as you gave it your all in the field. 

He loved watching you play, loved seeing the passion you had for the game and if he could, he would do anything so you could play whenever you pleased, but the world didn’t work that way. 

The plan was for you to drive to the field with some friends after school, you would grab something to eat with them on the way there. Fortunately for you, you were able to get out of class early to grab a bite and head over to the field. Later on in the evening, Tim, Lucy, and Angela will meet you at the game. 

“All units,” the voice came over the radio, “we have a major collision at the intersection of Sepulveda and Fifth. Possible fatalities. Paramedics en route.” 

Tim’s heart quickened, something about this call felt different from the others. A chill ran down his spine, he knew that intersection too well. It was one of the intersections he passed on the way to drop y/n off at school.

“Dispatch, show 7-Adam-100 responding,” Tim announced on the radio as he drove off from where he was parked. The scene of the accident wasn’t too far, it was only ten minutes away, but with the way Tim was driving, he made it there in five. 

When he arrived, paramedics were already at the scene, a couple of paramedics were assisting some firemen help get a passenger out of one of the cars. Just with one look at the scene, Tim already knew that the impact of some of these cars was deadly. 

“Tim,” Lucy hurried towards him, she had arrived at the same time as the paramedics. 

Tim was too distracted by the scene of the wreckage in front of him to even notice the look on Lucy’s face, “Jesus, what was the cause of this?” he asked. 

Lucy’s expression was tense, her eyes had widened with something more than just professional concern, “T-Tim,” she whispered, a hand gently touching his arm. 

Tim quickly diverted his attention towards Lucy, taking in the expression she was giving him, “What’s going on?” His voice is tight with worry. 

Lucy hesitated, she had no idea how to tell the man she loved, the man who was standing right in front of him the news that could cause his whole world to come crashing down. Her gaze flickered over his shoulder to where the paramedics were working frantically on someone who was lying on the pavement. “I need you to promise me you’ll stay calm,” she began. 

There was that feeling again, the one Tim felt when he heard the call over the radio, “What is it?” 

Lucy took in a shaky breath, “It’s y/n,” she said softly. Her mouth quivered, she rose her hand up to her mouth quickly before putting her hand back down and continued, “The way the car hit– She–” She let out a small sob. 

“Where is she?” Tim felt a cold knot of dread forming in his stomach, “Where is my daughter, Lucy!?” 

“The paramedics are doing everything they can,” She managed to choke out. 

Tim felt as if the ground beneath him had been pulled out from under him, he followed Lucy’s gaze behind him, his whole world narrowed to the sight of the paramedics working on his daughter. His heart sunk at their grim faces as they focused at the task at hand. He pushed past Lucy, any call for him went in through one ear and out the other as he rushed to Y/n’s side. 

“No, no, no,” Tim shouted, his voice breaking as he took in her pale and bloodied face. “Come on, baby, you got to wake up,” he cried as he knelt beside her, gently holding her head in his hands. 

“Clear!” A paramedic warned as he held the defibrillator paddles in his hands, Tim quickly let go of y/n, his eyes darting to the small portable screen beside them. The paramedic let out a small groan as he continued to administer CPR, “Another round of EPI!” The paramedic ordered. 

Tim’s heart shattered with every single millisecond that passed. Reaching out with a trembling hand, he brushed a strand of hair from y/n’s forehead, “Please,” he begged, “Don’t take her from me.”

Lucy knelt beside Tim, offering anything she could to support him. 

“Clear!” The paramedic announced again. 

“Come on, baby girl,” Tim whispered as he lifted his hands up, allowing the paramedic to use the paddles on y/n. 

Tim waited, watching the straight lines on the defibrillator, “Come on!” He shouted, tears streaming down his cheek. 

“We got a pulse!” The paramedic called out as a small pulse showed itself on the small screen in front of him. Tim let out a breath of relief, overwhelmed with a wave of emotions, Y/N was alive, but barely. 

“You can meet us at the hospital,” the paramedic informed Tim as they loaded Y/n onto a stretcher. 

Tim watched as they wheeled her into the ambulance, His attention was directed to another stretcher that was covered with a sheet. His heart sank as he noticed a familiar charm bracelet that was barely showing through the sheet. He quickly stopped the paramedics from moving the stretcher. 

Tim glanced over at Lucy, she gave him a nod, confirming his fear without words. 

“Fuck!” He exclaimed as he took in a shaky breath. 

“I was on my way to inform her parents.” 

Tim shook his head, “No, let me.” 

“But y/n.” 

“Y/N would want me to tell her best friend's parents that their daughter… she would want me to do this.” 

Lucy nodded, “I can go with you if you would like,” she suggested. 

He gave her a small nod. Lucy followed Tim in her patrol car, to the small house that was only a few blocks down.

Tim dreaded giving the news of the death of a loved one, but this was different. A knot of anxiety turned in Tim’s stomach as he knocked on the door with shaky hands. Mrs. Garcia, Jenna’s mother, answered the door with a beaming smile, but it was short-lived once she saw the look on Tim’s face. Her smile quickly faded into concern.

“Tim? What’s wrong?” She asked, her voice laced with concern. 

“Can we come in?” Tim asked gently. Mrs. Garcia’s eyes darted between him and Lucy before she gave him a small nod and stepped aside. Her eyes widened with worry. 

“Heeey, Tim!” Mr. Garcia sung as he watched Tim walk into the living room, “Ready for that game tonight? Don’t tell me one of the girls called you to come grab something,” he rambled on, “Leave it to our girls to always forget something.” His voice slowly faltered as he noticed the look on his wife’s face. 

“Tim has– Um, he’s here because of work,” Mrs. Garcia stuttered as she sat beside her husband on the couch. The look on Mr. Garcia’s face now mirrored his wife’s as they looked at Tim. 

Tim took in a deep breath, his mind searching for the right words today, but he knew there were none. For a moment, he wanted them to take in these last moments, the last moments of them being oblivious to what was going on. The last moments of them believing that their daughter was still alive and with them in this world. 

Tears began to well up in his eyes, “There was an accident,” he began. “Y/N and Jenna were involved.” 

Mr. Garcia let out a small chuckle out of disbelief, “But they’re okay, right?” 

Tim felt his stomach turn as he continued, “Y/N is on the way to the hospital, they were able to resuscitate her.” 

Mrs. Garcia gasped, as Mr. Garcia took his wife’s hand, “and my Jenna?” His voice shaking as he asked. 

Tim could feel the tears in his eyes threatening to make themselves known, “I’m so sorry,” he said with a shaky voice, “Jenna didn’t make it.” 

Mrs. Garcia shook her head, “No, no, no! Not my baby!” She yelled as she collapsed into her husband’s arm, her body wracked with sobs. Mr. Garcia held her tightly as tears fell from his eyes. Tim felt helpless as he stood there, wishing there was something he could do to ease their pain, but he knew there wasn’t. 

“I’m so sorry,” Tim repeated, “Jenna was more than just Y/n’s friend. They were like sisters. You guys were–are like family to us.” 

Mr. Garcia looked up towards Tim, his eyes red and overwhelmed with grief, “Can we see her? Can we see our baby girl?” 

Tim nodded, “I’ll take you to her. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” 

The Garcia’s followed Tim’s patrol car to the hospital. Tim felt like he could understand the pain they were going through, seeing as he had just seen his own daughter almost be taken from him, but he knew his pain couldn’t compare to the pain they were about to face. 

He guided them through the quiet halls, it was a part of the hospital Tim rarely went through. A part of the hospital not a lot of people wished to see. The room in which Jenna’s body was in was filled with an overwhelming aura of sadness. It’s like the walls knew the pain of those who held her close. Tim stood at the door as he watched them walk up to the bed where their daughter lay motionless. 

In the midst of it all, Tim felt guilt. Guilt that his daughter lived and theirs didn’t and mixed in with all the guilt, he felt angry. 

He wasn’t sure if he was more angry towards the drunk driver or god himself for taking Jenna away from her parents. 

Lucy walked up to Tim, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Hey,” she whispered, gesturing for him to follow her. 

He let out a deep breath, following Lucy down the hall. 

“They’re wheeling Y/N into surgery now, they’re saying it was touch and go there for a while, which is why it took them a while to get her stable enough to go into surgery,” Lucy explained. Her eyes gazed towards the door at the end of the hall, “How are they holding up?” 

Tim shook his head as tears quickly welled up in his eyes, Lucy didn’t hesitate to pull Tim into an embrace, “I almost lost her and I was a mess, I can’t imagine the pain they are going through,” he said shakily as he returned Lucy’s embrace. 

“I know,” Lucy whispered. 

“I almost lost her,” Tim repeated. Taking in the words he had just said. 

“But you didn’t,” Lucy said as she let go of the embrace and held Tim’s head in her hands. “She’s alive and she needs you right now, she needs you more than ever.” 

Tim nodded, “I don’t know what I would do if I lost her.” 

“You didn’t lose her, Tim.” 

“I can’t lose her,” he repeated. 

“You won’t.” 

“But I still can,” tears welled up in his eyes, “they can take her away as easily as they brought her into my life and I can’t bear to lose her. She’s my kid.” 

Lucy couldn’t help but smile, “So, what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying that I want to adopt her. I need to.” 

Lucy beamed, “About time.” 

Tim and Lucy stayed in the hall, while the Garcia’s said goodbye to their daughter. A small amount of words were exchanged as Tim watched the Garcias walk out of the hospital, he promised them that Y/N would come over from time to time, but they still wanted her presence around even if their daughter wasn’t there. He knew it was because their home would be missing that light their daughter gave off, the light that y/n gave off when she came into any room. 

~~ 

Tim let out a deep sigh as he moved in his seat for the hundredth time, “would you quit it?” Lucy asked. 

“My belt is beginning to become uncomfortable,” Tim commented. 

“I know,” Lucy said as she looked up from her phone, “that’s why I called Angela to bring us some spare clothes from our lockers,” she said just as Angela walked out of the elevator. 

“How’s our girl doing?” Angela asked as soon as she walked over to Lucy and Tim. 

“The doctors came about an hour ago to update us, it was touch and go then,” Tim said. 

“Fuck,” Angela sighed as she took a seat beside them, handing off the bag of clothes to Lucy. 

Lucy quickly stood up, “I’m gonna go change,” she said as she grabbed her clothes from the bag before handing it off to Tim. 

Tim watched as Lucy walked away to the bathroom, “How are you holding up?” 

“I just wish I could get to the part where this is all over with and Y/n is back home and she’s safe and healthy.” 

“Don’t we all,” Angela whispered. 

The sound of the corridor doors opening caught Tim’s attention, his eyes diverting to the doctor who rushed through the doors and was walking towards him. Tim instantly recognized him as he stood up, “How is she?” 

“She’s stable,” Tim let out a breath of relief, “she did sustain significant injuries and the road to recovery will be a long one, but what’s important is that she is stable for now. We want to keep her in the ICU until she’s off the ventilator.” 

“But she’s okay,” Angela reassured. 

“She’s stable,” the doctor repeated. “I would count that as a win.” 

Tim nodded, “Can I see her?” 

“Of course, I’ll take you up there myself.” 

Tim glanced at Angela, “Go! I’ll let Lucy know.” 

Tim nodded, grabbing his bag of spare clothes before following the doctor to the elevator. 

“I do want to warn you, that what Y/N endured is traumatic. She had multiple fractures, extensive bruising, and some severe lacerations,” Tim was aware, but when he saw her, all he noticed was his little girl. He saw the blood, but only kept his eyes on her face, taking it in as much as he could. 

“She will be swollen and it may look scary along with all the bandages and lacerations,” the doctor continued. 

Tim swallowed hard, “I just want to see her,” he whispered as he tried hard to maintain his composure. 

“And you will, I just want you to keep in mind that it may look bad, but trust me, it will heal and she will recover,” the doctor turns to face Tim, “your daughter is lucky to be alive considering the damage.” 

The doctor stepped out of the elevator once it had stopped, and Tim followed him to one of the rooms in the ICU. “Let us know if you need anything,” the doctor said before leaving to give Tim some space. 

Tim paused outside the door for a second, taking in a deep breath he walked into the room. The sight in front of him was worse than he had imagined, taking in a shaky breath, Tim hurried to the y/n’s side. He took in all the bandages and wires that were connected to her body, the tube that was coming out of her mouth that was to help her breath. 

He gently took her hand in his, “I’m here,” he whispered as he placed a gentle kiss on her hand, “dad’s here,” he whispered again. 

Days went by and Tim remained by y/n’s side. His anxiety was getting the best of him every day that passed, especially since there was no change. Things weren’t getting worse, but they weren’t getting better either. Every day the doctors and nurses came in to check on y/n Tim was hopeful that there would be some change or something new for them to say, but it all remained the same. 

But today felt different. While Tim was holding y/n’s hand, he felt a small movement. He could have swore that she tightened her grip, he took that hope and ran with it. Getting any nurse that was available to show them what he saw. The doctor was quick to run some tests.

One of those tests in particular came back with new results, “It’s a risk,” the doctor commented. 

“But there’s a possibility?” Tim asked. The doctor nodded, “Then let’s do it.” 

Tim sat by as the doctors removed the ventilator, it was a risk. There was a percentage that Y/N could breathe on her own without it and that’s why she’s beginning to show movement, but then there could be a possibility in which she can’t yet breathe with out it. It was all risky, but Tim was willing to take the risk if it meant him knowing where she is on the road of recovery. 

They waited for a few minutes, watching the machines carefully as the ventilator was now completely out.

“Is this good?” Tim asked. 

“So far,” One of the doctors commented. “It looks like she is breathing on her on, we’ll continue to keep an eye on her.” 

Slowly the few nurses and doctors that were in the room began to file out, leaving Tim alone with Y/n. He watched throughout the day as y/n breathed on her own. He took it all as a good sign. 

Soon Tim felt his eyes growing heavy as he let the darkness consume him allowing sleep to enter his body. It was hours later when Tim heard was awakened by a soft groan. 

At first, Tim didn’t quiet understand where it was coming from, his sleep overtaking him again and ignoring the groans. When he kept hearing them, his body quickly reacted, sitting up in his seat, his heart pounding as he looked over at y/n. Her eyes squinting from the brightness of the room, she groaned again. 

“Hey, hey,” Tim rushed to her side.

“It hurts,” she groaned. 

“I know, I know,” Tim softly said as he pressed the button near the bed, alerting the nurses. 

It wasn’t long until a few of the nurses came rushing into the room, examining Y/N and giving her more pain medication. One of the doctors was alerted, he quickly came and ordered some tests before leaving. 

“How are you feeling?” Tim asked as soon as they were alone. 

“Like shit,” Y/N responded.

Tim chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, “you were out for a week,” he commented. 

“I barely remember anything,” She confessed. 

Tim sighed, “It was bad,” he began. 

“I just remember… I remember hearing screams.” 

Tim nodded, “Joey and Lisa made it out with a couple of broken bones. The people in the other car only had a couple of scratches.” He let out a deep sigh, “the driver that caused everything died upon impact.” 

“And Jenna?” 

Tim didn’t know how to muster up the words to tell y/n. He wish he could say that within the past week he figured the words but he didn’t. 

Y/N didn’t like the silence she was receiving, “Tim, what about Jenna?” she asked again.

“They did everything they could,” Tim began to say, tears welling up in her eyes. 

Y/N shook her head, “No.” 

“Y/N, honey, I know-” 

“It should’ve been me,” She cried out. 

“Don’t say that,” Tim raised his voice. 

“Her parents,” She cried, “It should’ve been me.” 

Tim let in a deep breath, “I almost lost you too, Y/n,” letting out a shaky breath, “I had to watch the paramedics bring you back to life. There was no saving Jenna when they arrived, but they were able to save you.” 

Tears welled up in y/n’s eyes as she watched Tim break down in front of her, “I know that’s not what you want to hear and I am sorry about Jenna, she meant everything to our little family, but seeing you lifeless on the floor… It broke me. I don’t think I could ever recover from that.” 

Y/n never imagined to hear those words come from Tim, she knew he cared for her, but she didn’t imagine that he truly cared enough that if she were gone he would miss her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. 

Tim mustered up a smile, “No, I’m sorry, this was a experience I wished you never had to experience, but I am here for you. We’re going to get through this together, okay?” 

She gave him a small nod, Tim sniffles, “I wanted to wait until the paperwork came in, but I think you need to hear this now.” 

Y/n gave Tim a confused expression. 

Tim sighed before he continued, “I want to adopt you.” 

“What? Are you serious?” She asked with a surprised expression. 

“As serious as I ever could be, you have been my daughter since the day I took you in, there is no changing that, So what do you think? Want to officially become a Bradford?” 

Tears began to well up in y/n’s eyes, “You want to adopt me?” She asked. 

Tim chuckled, “Of course, I do.”

“Then I guess I should start calling you dad now, huh?” 

Tim smiled, placing a small kiss on y/n’s forehead, “that’s up to you, hon.” Tim knew that the road from here on out wasn’t going to be easy. It was long and bumpy, but he knew that he could take the challenge one day at a time, especially since the risk of loosing you wasn’t as high as it was before. That’s all that mattered to Tim. 

[mywritersmind]

CAT PARENTS - LN

pt.2

summary : A kitten is all it takes to get two strangers in the same bed for the night. Lando likes how she doesn’t know him, Olivia likes the cat that he’s trying to take from her.

warning : Just Lando, Olivia, and Juna being adorable (again) !

word count : 1459

⋆ ˚‧｡⋆

I’m in Landos clothes in the bathroom thirty minutes later. I had the best shower of my life, wiping away my club stink and snuggling into baggy sweats and a McLaren shirt.

I hype myself up in the mirror, there’s very few occasions where i’ve stayed over at a man’s house. All of those have been after sex. I am not going to have sex with Lando. It’s a weird learning curve but I was the one who wanted me to stay more.

He lets out a laugh when I walk out, slapping his hand back over his mouth he says, “I didn’t mean to laugh!”

I smile and spin around, “That’s fine. I mean… I do look sort of ridiculous.” his clothes do not fit me by any means…

He shakes his head, playing with Juna who is chasing a feather attached to a stick, “No, you look good.” His voice is a bit raspy, sounds tired.

This should not have an effect on me but the butterfly’s are definitely there.

“So Olivia.” he uses my real name, “If you don’t like F1, what sports do you like?”

I smile and sit next to him, “Soccer mostly.”

He side eyes me, “Football?”

I eye him right back, “Soccer.”

He smiles, happy with our disagreement, “Why not Formula?”

I sigh and shrug, “Sort of rough on an Americans sleep schedule. My dad loves it actually! But when I got to college I never got back into it.”

“That’s good.”

“What, that I never got back into it?” I look at him playing with Juna, a rouge curl falling into his face.

“No. You said your dad loves it. That’ll mean he likes me.” There go those damn butterfly’s, “Unless he doesn’t like McLaren.”

I smile to myself, “He’s a ferrari fan.”

He sighs, “Ah… might have to win his trust then.” I should not be thinking about how much my dad would like Lando.

I lean back against my arms, “And what makes you so sure you’re going to meet him?

He smiles softly back at me, “We have a child together now.” He grabs Juna and brings her close to his face. Something about him and this cat is just melting my heart.

“Right.” I smile and pet under her chin, “Lovely. We’re stuck together forever, I guess.”

His blue eyes meet mine, “I guess.”

____

“Oh my-” I take a bite of my burger that Lando and I ordered. The burger was the first thing ordered, followed by fries, two milkshakes, chicken tenders, more fries, chips, and onion rings.

Lando laughs at my groaning as he nibbles on his chicken, “Like it?”

“It even tastes rich.” I shake my head, “Wanna try?” I don’t know why I say it. I hate sharing my food, I won’t even share my water with my best friend.

He shakes his head, “Nah i’m sort of… picky.”

“Suit yourself.” I shrug and keep eating.

“Back to our game?” He asks, biting into a fry. I nod as he starts, “Favorite color?”

“Blue, Navy.” Although his eyes could be changing my mind on the navy part. “Favorite holiday?”

“Christmas. It’s always during winter break, obviously. So I get all the time I want with my family.”

“That’s really sweet.” I sip my milkshake, “Is it hard, being away all the time? Even if you do love it.”

“Not your turn yet.” He raises a brow, “What’s your favorite memory from your childhood?”

“Hm… I wasn’t exactly a child, But still. I was seventeen and had just got out of a horrible relationship.” he frowns at this, “Don’t worry I poured coffee on him- anyway my friends and I drove to the beach, absolutely blasting Taylor Swift, and we just swam in our clothes.” I shrug, “It was like midnight.”

He smiles as I tell the story, “It’s so cool you grew up by the beach.” thank you cali.

“Answer my question now, please.”

He sighs, “It’s hard. My sister has a kid so I wish I was with her a lot… but honestly my parents can make it to a lot of races and it’s not like I have a girlfriend to worry about.” I laugh at this.

I try to sound casual, “I’m assuming you have in the past?”

“Yes…” he says suspiciously, “but it’s tough. What about you, got anyone special?”

“Definitely not. Broke up with my college boyfriend a while ago…” Why am I telling him this?

He whistles, “How old are you?”

“Twenty three.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I’m twenty four.”

“That is good.” I laugh and he laughs with me, “You’re young.” I say.

He shakes his head, “So are you. I forget sometimes.”

“That you’re young?”

He shrugs and wipes his hands on a napkin, “Being a driver doesn’t exactly scream ‘first job!’”

“I never really thought about that. My first job was a wedding calligrapher though.” He laughs, “I’m serious!”

“I believe you! It’s just… random.”

“You’re random.” I roll my eyes as if that was any insult.

I hear scraping and see Juna join us on the bed the next second, I laugh at the tiny kitten climbing up the bed. She walks right on top of Lando, up his arm and on his neck.

“She likes me!” He whisper yells. I lay my head on the pillow, getting tired after my day.

“She has good reason to.” I say as I yawn, closing my eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now, Livvy.”

“I’m not…”

____

LANDO NORRIS

She fell asleep. I look at the clock, 2:23am. I set Juna down but she keeps trying to get my attention as I clean up our food.

I’ve enjoyed this far too much. I like her company.

This girl i’ve just met. I barely know her!

Yet I feel like I've known her for years.

I shouldn’t get attached. I don’t easily. But with Olivia it feels like I've known her since I was in school.

That could be the late hours talking though. But still, we’ve been talking for hours. With this bloody cat who I've fallen completely in love with.

“Norris.” I hear her whisper.

“Yes, love?” I let it slip by accident.

“Juna peed on the couch.” she pats the bed, “Come on.”

I thank god because my back would be fucked if I slept on the floor and my trainer would not be happy. I switch the lights off and climb in next to her, Juna in between us.

“Night, love.” She whispers before promptly falling asleep.

____

OLIVIA WREN

I wake up to an arm around me and a man standing above me. I scream.

“Fuck!” Lando pulls his arm away immediately, opening his eyes quickly and looking at the man in screaming at, “Max!” he groans, “You didn’t have to scare her!”

“Sorry.” He crosses his arms, “I’m Max.”

“Hi?” I try to slow my heart rate, “God! You scared me!” I look back up at him, Lando mentioned the childhood friend but I didn’t think I’d meet him so soon.

“Sorry again. Lando scared me first! Bloke can’t figure out how to use his phone!” Max throws his phone at Lando who dodges it. I’m still trying to recall why I'm here and what is happening.

Juna reminds me when she trots over and plants herself on my lap. “I thought you’d been killed or something!” Max yells at Lando whose face is still in the pillow.

I’m suddenly very self conscious about being in this bed. Max seems to notice and shakes his head, “Well now that I know you’re alive… Plane takes off in an hour.”

____

He’s packed in fifteen minutes. Why couldn’t he be a slower packer?

We’re quiet up until the elevator exit, “Juna is still half mine.” He says suddenly, the blue skies coming into view as we walk outside.

“Okay?”

“So don’t forget me, or anything.” He says, looking away from me.

The corner of my mouth lifts, “No chance.” Putting his bags down, he slides my phone out of my pocket and into his hand.

“My number.” He says before handing me my phone back, “Use it all you want.”

“Oh I should be so greatful.” I say it sarcastically but honestly, I am.

He nods, a small smile still gracing his face, “Be safe, alright? Don’t go home with any more strangers.”

My grip on Juna’s carrier tightens, “We’ll see.”

He says goodbye to Juna, sticking his finger through the wire and petting her. He stands up straight, taking his things as the valet brings his car.

“Good luck.” I say quickly, he looks almost surprised. “In your race. Maybe I’ll watch.”

His surprise turns into kindness, leaning down a bit, he places his lips softly on my cheek, “Don’t scream my name too loud, love.”

I blush as he steps back, I wave. He gets into his car and looks back through the slight tint, smiling.

note : should i do a pt.3??

[beuxwhoyouare]

Raised You Better

My son Jasper was a good kid. He was a star soccer player in school and got a scholarship to play in college, so I only saw him on holidays. I missed him so much and looked forward to our quarterly reunions.

Well that was until his most recent visit. He was being so distant and when I finally inquired why he was acting differently, he finally admitted he actually dropped out to pursue being a personal trainer.

I was shocked. He's always been a model child and did all me and my husband expected of him. Maybe it was all our time away working? Maybe I should've been home more instead of being at the lab. It felt like a punch in the gut. I mean sure he knew what he was doing thanks to all his time training for soccer but that's not a way to build a life?

My husband and I did it right. We met in college and supported each other through our advanced degrees and worked our way up in an international pharmaceutical company. Personal training is just so...surface level. He's supposed to be better than us. That's what you want for your children. No no no this is no good. I'll have to set him on the right path.

I knew of a special program at work that was rooted in natural medicine and meditation with a mad science twist. I set up Jasper with the "Sports Nutrition" department at work but it was actually our new experiment. It looked like a TENS muscle stimulator on crack. Several wires shot out of a relatively large dark grey box with a screen and several sliders on one side. I sat connected on the other side of the wall connected with the pads all over the top of my head. All I had to do was wait for Jasper to get hooked up. We sold it to him as a scientific way to curb cravings for sweets and unhealthy things, like an ozempic shot for the brain. In reality, I was told that the machine would take positive attributes from one source and strengthen them in the weaker mind.

I saw the lights flicker and anticipated that he had already been hooked up to the machine. I just laid back and rested while focusing on the importance of getting a quality education. Eventually, I must have dozed off because when I opened my eyes again it was all so groggy. But I was sitting facing the opposite direction. I lifted my arms to wipe my eyes and gasped when I looked down. My boobs were gone and replaced with sizable mounds of muscle escaping a tiny white tank top. My arms and thick thighs now filled with tattoos....no?! This isn't supposed to be how it works

I told the lab techs who I am and that I was actually Meredith. They both looked at each other spooked but judiciously jotting down notes. After answering a few security questions, they agreed to believe that I was indeed not Jasper and it must be an unforseen side effect from the treatment.

That's when they explained the problem....When my body woke up, it also said it was Meredith. Could the experiment have basically overwritten the memory of my son with my own? I felt like I basically killed my own child. Grief swept over me. But then so did a bravado, a confidence, a giddiness? The two lab techs handed me a towel as they shyly avoided looking down at a tent forming in my shorts. Oh I guess the excitement led to a physical response.

In theory I get it as a scientist. I did in fact instill positive traits on my son. Granted, that also erased him seemingly. But also it's a chance at a new life full of new experiences. I'm a man now. And what a man indeed. I walked into the shower facility at the lab. I took off the outfit Jasper donned to the lab, if I was still a woman it'd be called skimpy and slutty. Tiny shorts with underwear built in and a virtually see through tank top. In two swift moves, I had taken everything off. I had seen my son naked as a child but this is different. He looked so much like his father....well I guess I looked so much like MY dad now. His genetics graced me well as I placed one hand on my pecs and another on my new dick. I squeezed both recoiling from the newfound pleasure. This was wrong right? Like I shouldn't be doing this....I felt disgusted with myself. No. This is for the betterment of Jasper's life. I'm going to let go of my past life....I'm Jasper now.

And what a life it will be. Years of playing sport and training, whew. I wasn't going to let him throw it away, I'll let it be a side job, maybe I'll own a business with a bunch of trainers under me but I won't be hustling like that. Not yet. I gotta learn the new me. I used my hands to trace the curves of each new tattoo, then moved on to each muscle. I poked and prodded before squeezing, then I remembered I had business to attend to. I took one hand and gently took hold of the warm fleshy rod under the steamy water pulsing down onto me. I pumped back and forth for a few minutes. Jasper was not sensitive at all...I shoved aside my reservations and gripped myself firmer and began jerking harder and faster. Eventually I introduced my other hand....oh he was girthy in the best way. I mean I am thick in the best ways. Harder and faster, it felt like I was floating outside of myself as my muscles took over almost like autopilot.

The steam radiated off my new musculature when it felt like I saw a flash of light. Shot after shot came out of my new rod. The lab walls had likely never seen a show like this but I was happy to christen them. The autopilot kinky thoughts continued to take over my new mind and body. I squatted down an licked the nearest wall as my cum dripped down. I knew Jasper was queer but I didn't know how he would respond to this kind of kink. I think he was a little freak because there was not one single butterfly in my stomach from this action. I quickly toweled off and headed to my apartment. I figured "Meredith" could find her way home.

The apartment smelled like a young male in college. A musk twirled around sweat and strong cologne. Foreign to me, but familiar to my new body. I couldn't control myself and ripped my clothes off...literally. My strength made it obscenely easy to tear them off in ways they weren't intended to. I wanted to try on all my new clothes. This body made everything look good.

My phone buzzed. It was one of "my" bros asking if I was coming down to the shoot. I played it off like I forgot and asked him to send me the "deets" again.

I threw on the nearest random shirt and bottoms and made my way to the warehouse address given. I guess "I" had agreed to help with the photoshoot to launch "our" new clothing line. A nearby table had Jasper's name on it and I quickly assumed the position taking off all my clothes and putting the skimpy clothing on. I channeled my new swagger as my bros began taking pics.

Oh I think I'm gonna like this. Hopefully I can find a cute twink or something soon. I really wanna put these thighs to work plowing someone's son or two.

[onelittlespiral]

Hey dude, I'm just a lil bro looking for a big bro to take care of me in all sorts of ways but all I'm stuck with is my lousy nerd of a roommate. Could you help me out?

FML: Fraternize

My roommate was… chill all things considered. I don’t know, he was just the random guy that I got stuck with when all my bros decided to move into the house and I needed someone to take the lease with. Scruffy, for sure. A bit out of shape. He said he used to play soccer in high school. Cute, but that was about it. Nowadays he was just getting his degree in English. Just a guy. But I didn’t want just another guy.

I tried to be friends with the guy, but he always just blew me and my boys off. He would just say he was too busy studying or playing some video game to come out to the gym with us or hang at the frat. I finally decided I was fed up. I needed my roommate to be more than a rando in my house. I needed a bro. And the fraternity had some resources to make that happen.

They usually keep this kinda stuff for pledges who start stepping out of line, but my buddy slipped me the files that they show to help guys get in line. I don’t remember if I ever saw them myself… what ever. It was a series of videos that promised to turn any guy into a bro in no time flat. So, one night, I put the tapes on when my roommate was home:

“Hey man, I’ve gotta watch these for class, mind if I slip them on?”

“No problem, I’ll just hang out in my bedroom.”

“Actually, it may be something you would like. You should stay. Here, you chill here and I’ll listen while I cook. I’ll make enough to split.”

I turned the first tape on and went to cook up some chicken and rice. In the other room, I heard the video beginning. It wasn’t long before I started hearing my roommate responding to the commands:

You are loyal to your bros.

“I am loyal to my bros.”

When you are around them you feel relaxed.

“When I am around them I feel relaxed”

The gym feels like your second home.

“The gym feels like my second home.”

The frat is life. You are made to be loyal to the frat.

“I am made to be loyal to the frat.”

They kept pushing him in the background while I finished cooking some food. When I walked back into the room, static filled the screen as my roommate stared into space, drool dripping from his mouth. I turned of the TV and he seemed to come to his senses.

“Hey, sup bro? Got the fuel?”

Already he was much better, “Yeah man, chicken and rice.”

“Hell yeah, gotta get a good workout in before getting my homework done.”

We ate quickly and started getting ready for the gym.

“Hey, bro, you think they are still taking new pledges? I’ve been meaning to apply to your frat!”

I was shocked at how quick the progress had been, “Yeah man. I’ll hook you up with my peeps tomorrow.”

“Sweet, let me finish getting ready and we can go.”

Dang those videos were quick. Even the way he carried himself was so different. This is the bro I needed.

The week went on and we kept working out. I hooked my roommate up with the pledge master and he quickly started falling in with the bros. We worked out, partied, did almost everything together now. I gave the rest of the tapes back to my guy who gave them to me. He said he needed them for a few guys who had gotten a little hands-y with some girls at the last party. I was fine to get them back, I didn’t think there would be any more issues with my roommate.

The year flew by until it was time for spring break. I had opted to be my roommate’s big and done all the usual hazing and shit with him. Had to keep him on his A game, I wasn’t going to go east on him. The spring break frat trip was a rite of passage for the incoming pledges. As much as I wanted to go, I had plans to visit California with my partner. We were having a great time, chilling at the beach, shopping through souvenir stores, and hiking parks. But I made sure to get updates about how my roommate was enjoying his week. It was from one of these progress reports that I got word from the pledge master:

Hey, bro. Just letting you know. Your little bro was making some girls uncomfortable at the bar. Can’t have that causing issues for the frat.

Shit man. I’m sorry. Lemme talk to him.

Nah dude, it’s good. We have a protocol for these kinds things. Just letting you know so you aren’t surprised. We’ll make sure he won’t bother any girls again.

Thanks dude. Lemme know if you need anything.

Nah bruh, relax. Enjoy your vacay.

Well as long as they have shit handled. I went back to my vacation and forgot about the whole situation. I would give him crap for it when I got back. The rest of our trip was great. I didn’t hear anything more from my bros so I assumed it all went according to plan. I was eager to get back to my roommate and prep him for full brotherhood when I got back. It wasn’t till I walked into the apartment I knew something was awry:

“Sup, bro, welcome back.”

A deep voice echoed from the balcony. He stepped inside and was greeted by a stranger. His arms were as thick as a football, his legs as thick as tree trunks. The smell of sweat, sex, and stale beer followed him into the room. He had a fresh tattoo on his arm with the number 86 boldly displayed. The stranger walked with swagger up to me, like he owned the place. As he approached, his musk only grew more intense. It wasn’t until I noticed the glasses it all clicked into place:

“Bro… is that you?!?”

“Bruh, who else would it be?”

My roommate stood proudly in front of me. He had been going to the gym steadily but no amount of protein powder could explain the progress he had made in a week. He was also easily 3 inches taller. And the smell. I don’t know how to describe it but he smelled… virile. Like just being around him was starting to get me excited. He certainly had never been like this before.

“Looking good, right? Like the new tat? Year of our chapter’s founding, 1986. After all, I am made to be loyal to the frat.”

That line made it all click together. The tapes. They said they would handle the situation, I didn’t know they would use the tapes.

”Speaking of which, dude. I can’t believe you flaked on the frat and went on a trip with your partner. You’ve got to be loyal to your bros.”

His scent, his words, my mind was swimming in a way it hadn’t in a long time. He stepped towards me, grabbing my head. I was pulled into his pit. I tried to pull back but a hand on the back of my head held me firmly in place. I felt so aroused and so scared as I was forced to huff the scent of pure frat bro. I was… fading. I couldn’t… resist… my… my… bruhhhhh.

“I think that you should sit through the next set with me bro.”

My mind was blank as he told me to sit down on the couch. Of course, I would do anything for my frat bro. He put on a video and sat behind me.

“They said we could watch this one together.”

The video whirled to life as my roommate held me in place in his lap. A flash of color and a brief intro played. It explained that it was the last in a series of videos for brothers who were trouble makers in the frat. This last one was the most extreme. I felt a wave of guilt, knowing I had betrayed my brothers and the chapter. I wasn’t sure what I did but I knew it must be bad. My behavior had to change.

You will conform to the standard set by the frat, whatever it takes. You will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.

“I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood,” we both repeated, in unison.

Good. Since you have proven you can’t be trusted with making good decisions, your brothers have decided to make those for you. You will become the ultimate frat bro.

“I will become the ultimate frat bro.”

Let’s start on the outside. A brother works out daily, at least. Strong muscles make for a strong foundation.

As I repeated the words, they became my reality. I had certainly never been a scrawny guy before, but this was something else. My muscles convulsed all at once, then seemed to shred and burst. My muscles ached as pecs, biceps, abs all were pulled out of my body. I sweat under the effort as legs bloated and toned, bloated and toned. My back stretched out and shoulders mounded on muscle.

Good bro. Now, a brother should be cocky, with a cock to match. All the other fraternities should know how superior we are.

‘Shiiit, no other frat could even come close. We threw the best parties, had the hottest girls and… fuck the hottest guys. With a bod like this, just about no body could resist.’ As those thoughts echoed in my head, there was a sharp pain in my balls as they started to swell. My cock snaked down my shorts, throbbing with newfound power and size. A moan escaped my mouth as my cock swelled thick as a beer can. Anyone would beg for a cock like this.

A frat bro with a cock like that just needs to fuck. Your libido keeps your mind so full that you hardly have time to pass your business classes.

My swollen balls began to churn as my cock came to life. As my mind was thrust into a deep sexual haze, any aspirations I had on my pre-law track were pushed out, draining right to my balls and slowly leaking out my cock. At the same time, I felt my roommate begin to shift behind me. I felt his cock press against the small of my back, throbbing as it was thrust into overdrive. He began slowly humping against my back, and I leaned back against that massive cock. I wanted to help my bro however I could. He wrapped his arms around me and slowly started jacking me off. My mind was in pure bliss as I was kicked into overdrive. His arms felt so warm and strong, and he was pushing all my buttons till I was thrusting into his hands.

The frat is a part of you. You live, breath, and sweat the frat. Everyone who meets you will know exactly what you’re about and submit to you, an alpha bro. You put the reek in Greek.

My mind processed for a second until the smell hit me from behind and I understood. My hormones shifted as sweat poured out. It was hard work being a fraternity brother, and everyone would know that. I worked overtime as the smell of straight frat filled my nostrils. The apartment changed in response, filled with leftover beers, used tank tops, and soaked underwear. Anyone who entered would fall into an immediate haze, the smell of bros clouding their mind. My mind was… so… slow. Just… needed… FUCK.

You will keep it simple, keep it stupid.

“I will keep it simple, keep it stupid.”

My head felt like it was filled with fluff. No thoughts, just instinct.

You will listen to your pledge master, follow all he says.

“I will listen to my pledge master, follow all he says.”

It was so much easier to just trust my bros. Whatever they said went.

You will live for and serve your bros, live for and serve the frat.

“I will live for and serve my bros and the frat.”

I would do anything for my bros. Gotta keep ‘em happy.

The frat is life.

“The frat is life.”

My roommate’s cock was still rock hard behind me. His grip was edging me as moaned for release. I could dedicate my life to men like him.

Thank you for your cooperation. There will be no further issues. Now cum.

And I did. Ropes shot across the floor as all the changes were set in stone. I was just another frat dude, struggling through Business classes and fucking through the night.

And with that the video ended. It took a sec for me to regain my senses. I slowly refocused my eyes and… fuck bruh my head is pounding. Musta partied too hard last night. Shit, I was drooling all over myself, lol. I mean, I’m hot but not that hot. And fuck, I made a mess. Bro, what happened? It’s already late, I’ve got to get ready to go out tonight.

I was going to throw on a polo and some shorts when my roommate put a hand on my shoulder. This man must’ve got a double dose of whatever I got. Bro, he was on another fucking level. He pulled me in tight, cupped my ass in his hands, held my chin, and slid his tongue in my mouth. All at once, my world shifted as the fraternity’s motto rang in my head, I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood. An aching in my balls told me that I wasn’t going to make it out tonight. I had my frat bro… no, my big bro right here. And he will take care of his little bro. He pulled down his sweatpants and a thick rod popped out from the waistband. He gently guided me to his cock, the true source of his musk. Our scents mingled as my thoughts were consumed by sex. The salty taste of pre coated my tongue as the tip slid down the back of my throat. My mind faded as the smell of the frat filled my nostrils. I was lost in bliss as my bro started pumping, pumping down my throat. Gone was the nerdy roommate I had:

There was nothing left but frat bro.

[saeclipse]

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄

alexis ness x gn reader

word count: 895

summary: alexis ness gets injured from soccer. kaiser taking him home, he spends the day under your care

𝐆𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍 fill the room, the soccer player has yet to get comfortable on his couch. His right leg propped up after suffering a terrible injury. Kaiser just stands there, staring at his misery, bouncing his leg up and down impatiently.

“When are they gonna come?” The blue haired man asked, “Waiting all day isn’t exactly my specialty, Ness.”

The shorter man quickly comes to your defense. Forgetting his injury, he abruptly gets up, but he then almost screams in pain with the stress on his knee. Keys then fiddle with the door outside, prompting Kaiser to dash to the location. You sprint pass the tall man to get to (you’re favorite) German. Kneeling in front of the couch you examine his knee with concern.

“Are you okay? I heard a noise from outside.” You question your lover.

He grunts for a moment but responds with that sweet voice of his, “Of course, meine hübsche.” (my pretty)

You give a small chuckle as you stare at his leg more intently, using your experience as a nurse to tend to your boyfriend. You ask the normal questions; did you take your medicine, how’s the pain 1-10, etc. After caring for your partner, you notice a tall figure still standing in front of the door.

“This is disgusting, I’m leaving.” Is all Kaiser said before he makes his departure. You have no idea how your angel of a boyfriend ever even liked that demon. Not trying to toot your own horn here but… you like to say you take much better care of him than Kaiser ever will.

“You okay, beautiful?” Ness asked, it only melts your heart more. This guy could literally beat up a person and you would just stare with big red hearts as eyes, it was so cartoonish your love for him. What was even more silly was his love for you. He would turn the world upside down, left and right, and end it if you gave him the word. It truly came out of a fairytale – his everlasting love for you. Some called it like a dog and master, but it was much more. If it truly was dog and master, you would be the unconditional loving dog who worshiped Ness, you would do just as crazy a thing for him just as he would for you. It was a mutual insane obsession, some might call it unhealthy, you guys called it love.

You only smile at him and give a chaste kiss to his cute forehead, making sure to get straight in the middle. You travel over to your kitchen – one that you rarely used when Ness is over as he always suggested going on a date to a fancy restaurant, but now here you are making your best to imitate the cuisine from his favorite German restaurant. If Ness was gonna spend the next couple weeks on your couch, isolated from the world, he was gonna get the best food he got since his birth.

You sang delightfully in tune with the song, Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana del Rey played on the speaker. Cooking some meat, Ness layed there, staring at the most ethereal person attempt to cook him a five star meal (you would fail but he wouldn’t tell you). God he wish he could capture this moment on his camera so he could keep a physical copy, but he supposes a phone will do.

After eating a sweet treat for dessert (which ended up being ice cream because somehow you fucked up the original dessert). You hold Ness on your shoulder, traveling to your room so you have easier access to him in the middle of the night. Unsurprisingly being extremely heavy, it takes a while before you settle your boyfriend on the bed.

“Wait here, I have to get the kit.” You state before heading to the restroom. It only takes a few seconds but you come back with gauze and other materials to rebandage the injury. No words are said as you focus on his knee, with the silence saying everything that's needed. Ness once again oogles at your focused state, making him question if he should visit you at work more often. Phantom hearts fill his eyes, thoughts of you caring for him, this time with a ring on your finger flood his mind. He wonders if he should start getting injured more – but then you would have to worry more and he doesn’t want that. However, seeing you here, with the soft orange light from the lamp capturing your features beautifully. He feels like home here, maybe he will move in with you next month. After all, no house is a home without your presence to warm it.

Putting the kit back, you come back to bed with pajamas. You guys set your TV on a show, and although you don’t particularly find it entertaining, hearing Ness laugh next to you is a more than good enough reason to keep it running.

And when the lights go off, when it’s just you two in the dark in your bed – that's when most of the memories happen, the talks, the jokes, the moments of adoration of the other, where one could stare at the other’s resting figure and recollect the day. Where you two laugh at Ness’s new lockscreen of you cooking peacefully in the kitchen.

@lakeside-paradise @tofumiarchives @rini-rushed @shrii-kk

[thiccschief]

Taking a Few for the Team

I've always had a fantasy about a sports team breeding one of the players, transferring all their fat to the one player. It's a work in progress, but here's the first part! Contains male weight gain & sex, and some bloating/gas.

Part two is here.

Exhausted, Aaron made his way out of his last class of the semester. Walking outside onto the cold winter afternoon, he admired how nice the snow looked across his college campus. Unfortunately, there was no snow on the indoor soccer field. His coach had insisted that the team practice tonight one last time before winter break.

Even though he only considered himself to be an average player on his team, Aaron enjoyed soccer. It was nice to have something going on other than his classes, and Aaron got along well with his teammates. His best friend Jess would always poke fun at him asking when he was going to hook up with the other players since they always acted so gay around each other. He didn’t mind though, since they were all cool with him being out as gay. His teammates would joke about it sometimes but only ever in jest.

He made his way back to his apartment he shared with Jess to grab his soccer bag, then he was off to practice. It went like any other, but near the end his coach made a point to tell all the boys they had better make sure and watch what they ate over the holiday break. “I don’t need you all to have to go harder at practice than you already will when you get back.” He figured he was being self-conscious, but Aaron felt like that statement had been directed at him. He was sure the coach made the most eye contact with him when he said that to everyone.

At 5’11 and fairly muscular, he was still definitely athletic. But with exams and everything going on, Aaron found himself stress eating more than usual. He had gained about 10 pounds since the start of the semester. It didn’t bother him, if anything it was just a good bulk that he could cut and gain some muscle mass if he hit the gym hard enough over the break. But his already small uniform shorts were definitely struggling with his slightly larger butt. His tops were definitely tighter too, but if he sucked in his belly it wasn’t too noticeable.

“Shit, I was really looking forward to eating good the next couple of weeks,” said Jared in the locker room after practice. “But you guys heard him, if I can’t then you can’t either.”

Jared is the team captain, who Aaron had a crush on. He was tall and muscular, and somehow ever so slightly tan even in the winter. He was assertive but also kind and understanding. It’s no wonder the team looked up to him.

“My girlfriend’s mom makes the best desserts! What coach doesn’t know won’t hurt him” complained Trevor. With a great sense of humor, he and Aaron were pretty good friends. Aaron was also a pretty good wingman for Trevor, which he appreciated. 

“Yeah it’ll be hard. I’m not sure what I’ll do when my mom makes her famous pork roast. But think of how much better shape we’ll be in compared to the other teams once spring season starts” said Jared.

“Shit, you two are making me hungry” said Aaron as he took off his top.

“Look, just don’t overdo it, man” said Jared. Aaron could have sworn that Jared shot a quick glance at Aaron’s belly, but just like before he tried to write it off as being self-conscious.

He finished changing and headed back out into the cold night. On his drive home, he thought about his workout plans for the break. Like most of the other guys, he and his family both lived nearby to the school, so it’s not like he would have to give up the gym for a month. But also in the back of his mind, he knew that it wouldn’t matter, he probably wouldn’t go anyway.

—----------------------------

The last couple days of break came faster than he expected. Aaron was seriously not ready for classes and soccer practice to start back up again. In between hanging out with Jess and also his family, Aaron had spent a few nights drinking beers and playing video games with Trevor. It was nice to become closer as friends. But also, to hang out without feeling pressure from the team about somehow gaining more weight. He knew Trevor didn’t care, but Aaron was terrified about how he was going to explain to the coach why he could barely squeeze into his shorts and jersey.

Trying it on before their practice that night, Aaron could see in his mirror that there was now no hiding the fact that he did not spend a minute in the gym all month. Or that he had completely ignored his coach’s advice not to overindulge in his mom’s delicious cooking. His shorts were straining to cover his now very round ass, and his jersey was completely showing off his new belly and love handles. His pecs were now larger looking as well. “Dammit!” he muttered to himself. He was definitely a little chubby now. But even though he was nervous about his team’s judgment, somehow he felt a bit sexier? He’d always liked men with some meat on their bones, but had never really considered that look for himself. But damn, something about how he was filling out his uniform made his shorts even tighter…

But without much time to think about it, he rushed out the door to get to practice. Somehow he was already running late.

After getting to practice, Aaron was relieved. It looked like all the other guys had spent the holiday more or less exactly like he did. Especially Jared, who now had a bit of a pudgy belly along with slightly pronounced love handles under his jersey. He liked to wear a smaller size to show off his muscles Aaron suspected, but now it was just showing off his mom’s many desserts he had eaten.

Coach definitely noticed the guys’ different physiques as well, and seemed irritated that the team was doing their exercises slower than usual. At the end of practice, after a short conversation with Jared, the coach pulled all the guys into a quick meeting.

“Look, I know I told you boys not to overdo it with eating over the break…” said the coach, with an exasperated tone in his voice “but this is ridiculous. We are going to have to do something about it.”

“Yes coach…” the team said meekly, knowing full well what they had done.

“So here is the deal. Jared and I have come up with a plan to get you boys back in shape in time for spring season. Be ready to do whatever it takes! That’s it for today’s practice, but it won’t be as easy next time!”

While changing in the locker room, Aaron reflected on what coach had told them. ‘Do whatever it takes?’ Aaron was already dreading the next practice and he hadn’t even left this one. Being the chubbiest one on the team, he knew whatever coach had in store was not going to be easy.

“Way to go, fatass” Trent said angrily, poking Aaron in his soft belly. “Now we are going to have to work out twice as hard because of you.” Trent was a player that could get pretty heated in the game, but Aaron had never had Trent get confrontational with him off the field. So this was definitely a first that Aaron didn’t know how to handle. 

“I… I don’t…” stammered Aaron, blushing a little in embarrassment. He didn’t know what to do.

“Whoa calm down man” Trevor came and stood between the two. “Look, we’ve all put on a few over the holiday. I know I at least have a little beer belly now.” Trevor said, making a point to grab the little bit of belly fat he had gained and laughed. “It’s all good. We’ll get back in shape in no time.”

“He’s right, it’s not the end of the world” chimed in Jared. “Coach and I put a plan together, and it’ll definitely be faster than a normal training regimen. We should do great this season.”

“And how the hell are we going to pull that off?” demanded Trent “Other than working out twice as hard, what are we supposed to do?”

“We haven't worked out the formula just yet, but I’m sure we can do it. Just listen to me and coach. We have a plan.” said Jared, with more of his assertive-team-captain tone than before. He was still positive as usual, but Trent could tell this conversation was over.

Formula? That was an odd choice of words, thought Aaron later that night. What did he mean?

All Aaron knew was Trent poking his belly and calling him a fatass earlier was somehow… insanely hot. Fuck, why was it so hot!? If Trevor hadn’t stood in front of him, his boner in his boxer briefs would have been on full display for the whole team to see. Thankfully his normally eight incher was now slightly smaller from his new encroaching fat pad.

That night, he beat himself off grabbing his belly and playing that scene over and over in his head…

The next day, Aaron got a group text from Jared.

'Hey everyone, team meeting tonight at my place. Be there at 7.'

'Damn' Aaron thought to himself. 'What is so important we couldn't have gone over it yesterday?!' 

Regardless, team meetings at Jared's house usually ended up being more of a kickback than a meeting. The guys all usually brought a few beers, snacks, and some video games to enjoy after whatever team business was discussed. Jared's family had moved away but kept the house so he could live in it while he finished college. This made it the perfect place for them to all hang.

After pulling up to Jared's quiet suburban home, he headed down to the large basement living room, where the team usually hung out. It had multiple sofas and plenty of space for the whole team.

He was surprised to find that he was the last one on the team to arrive.

"Hey man! Didn't know you had it in you to be on time to anything" Aaron said jokingly to Trevor as he sat on the couch next to him.

"Dude what are you talking about? Jared said to be here at six th-"

Trevor was immediately cut off by Jared who jumped up and started the meeting.

"Glad to see you all could make it." Jared said, standing and facing everyone. "I wanted to go over the plan coach and I made to get us all in shape. We are very excited but it's going to take every guy on this team doing his part."

Jared held up a protein shaker bottle filled with an ivory liquid. It just looked like any other protein shake. "Coach and I consulted with some people in the chemistry department and formulated a unique protein shake mixture for each of you. It's highly concentrated and is specially formulated to last longer than a normal shake. Because of this, we probably only have to drink it once a week. So every week starting today, we will all drink it together, that way I know nobody is slacking."

"Seriously?!" Chimed Trent "you have to babysit us about it?"

"No you don't understand. It's just way easier this way." Said Jared. He seemed annoyed that Trent would say something like that, as if he should have known better.

"Anyway, we are still working on the flavors. So let me know what you guys think!" Jared handed everyone a bottle with their name on it.

Aaron gave it a couple shakes then put the bottle up to his mouth and took a big sip. The shake was… delicious. It was so sweet and rich and nothing at all like those nasty protein shakes he was used to.

"Fuck that's good." "Hey man, what's in this?" "Damn it's just like ice cream…" the other guys clearly enjoyed theirs too.

"Glad y'all like it. Anyway, that's the meeting. Once you finish your shakes, I've got plenty of beers in the fridge." Said Jared with a grin on his face. "One more thing. We noticed when we were testing it, sometimes the shakes can make you a little… bloated."

As if on cue, Trevor let out a long *buuUuuUURRP* followed by some hearty laughter from the rest of the guys.

"Look if this gets us in shape like you say it will, a couple burps won't kill me" joked Trevor.

"Oh don't worry, it'll work just fine." Said Jared.

The team came prepared with the usual snacks, beer and video games. They were broing out just like any other team meeting before long.

20 minutes later…

—---------------------------

The guys started getting really gassy. Being a soccer team that spent tons of time together, an occasional fart or burp was not new for the boys. It was always followed by laughter at the expense of the perpetrator, but this was different. The teammates were all feeling way more bloated than they had ever been. ‘Hopefully these shakes are worth it…’ their faces seemed to say.

At first they seemed to be a little embarrassed about it, but after a few minutes of laughing at each other they were letting it all out. All the boys at this point were occasionally farting and burping. Aaron noticed that the boys’ cheeks were becoming a little flush as well. They were also starting to get hard. Rock hard. Aaron noticed that everyone on the team had a boner visible through their shorts by now. Even himself.

All the guys were blushing as they started noticing the strange effects of this protein shake they had been given.

"Yeah sorry guys, it has some odd side effects" said Jared.

Aaron felt super flustered. The guys knew he was gay, but staring at all their protruding manhoods felt like a step too far. He got up to go to the bathroom, but as he did…

"Hey... Has anyone else noticed how fat Aaron's ass is?" Said Trent

"You're joking right?" Aaron said in disbelief.

"Like, seriously huge..." said Trent, as he stroked his cock through his shorts.

"...hey!" Aaron was completely shocked. This… didn’t feel like their normal banter.

"I'm serious!" Said Trent. "Has it always jiggled this much??" He got up and gave Aaron’s ass a huge smack. Even through his shorts, you could see it shake in recoil.

Come to think of it, Aaron thought, was it usually that jiggly? Was this another bizarre effect of these shakes?

The next thing he knew, Trent grabbed Aarons shorts and pulled them to the ground.

"Holy fuck!" exclaimed Trent "That ass is fucking insane!"

"What the fuck is going on here!?" yelled Jared "Get your *buuuURP* hands off my teammate!"

Trent grabbed Aaron's cheeks and squeezed. His fingers sank deep into the soft flesh, which he loved. He pushed Aaron firmly between the shoulder blades, the boy bracing himself on the couch. Trent mimed fucking Aarons ass in front of the team, causing an uproar of laughter.

“Hey man, chill out!” Exclaimed Jared. “I told you how this was going to work.”

Jared grabbed Trent by the collar of his shirt and pulled him away. But then quickly dropped his own shorts and stood behind Aaron.

It all happened so fast Aaron didn’t have a chance to move. From being shocked about what Trent had done to him, to being frozen by seeing Jared act so dominant. Aaron just watched in shock as he was still bent over the couch. But he didn’t really want to move, either. He was starting to feel unusually calm.

The next thing he knew, Jared reached for some lube that was on the side table, and rubbed it on his huge rock hard cock. Wait… Aaron thought to himself, was that lube always there? Why would Jared leave it out like that?

Aaron also noticed that Jared’s balls were looking massive, as if they were a pair of oranges. 

“Get ready, fatass” moaned Jared. He gave Aaron’s jiggly ass a good slap and then grabbed him by his love handles.

Aaron felt a tingle through his body. He had never had a dick in his ass before. But he had always fantasized about it. This was a very weird night so far, but he’d be lying if he said he had never fantasized about having handsome, tall, fit, dominant but gentle Jared pound his tight (and now fat) ass.

His ass relaxed as if on queue, and Jared easily slipped in. Aaron moaned quietly at the sensation of having his first dick inside him.

He could hear Jared burping as he slid back and forth. The guys were definitely getting gassy because of their shakes.

Aaron groaned as Jared began to go deeper and harder. He was so turned on by this. He didn’t care that his whole team was there. He didn't mind the gas or the loud farts that Jared was letting out. In fact, he liked it. There was something about being taken by his team captain, called names and fucked in the ass that made him feel so incredibly horny.

Jared was thrusting really hard now and Aaron could feel Jared’s huge balls colliding with his own. It was so hot feeling Jared’s fat cock sliding in and out of his ass.

"Fuck, yeah, fuck me, I love it!" whined Aaron, leaning forward on the couch.

Jared continued to pound away, slamming Aaron's asshole relentlessly. He was so focused on Jared that he forgot the rest of the team was in the room, watching and stroking their cocks to Aaron and Jared.

"Come on, you fat bitch, take my dick! *BUuuuuUP* You're gonna be our team slut now!" yelled Jared.

Aaron nodded his head in agreement as Jared pounded away.

“Fuuuck…” was all Aaron could let out between his moans. He had never been so aroused. All he wanted at this point was to feel Jared release his huge load inside him.

"Take it, take it all… Take my load!" cried Jared, as he came inside Aaron's soft stomach. Aaron felt him gushing inside him. It felt like he was cumming forever, to the point where Aaron began to feel a slight pressure inside him from all the sloshing cum.

When Jared was done, he slowly pulled out of Aaron's ass. “Don’t let that go to waste, fatboy”  he said as he slapped Aarons’ dribbling ass. He started laughing as he looked at Aaron's now rounder and softer belly. Aaron looked as if he had instantly put on 10 pounds. "Damn, did I do that? You look even fatter now"

"It feels... tight" said Aaron, out of breath. "But it's amazing." He put a hand on his belly and felt not only Jared's cum sloshing around but also a softer layer of fat beneath his sweaty skin.

"I definitely feel less bloated now," said Jared with a grin, "you guys should try it" he said to the rest of the guys.

Aaron looked up and noticed Jared’s balls were normal sized now. Jared also looked like he… had lost weight? How was that possible? He looked like he was back to his toned, muscular body that he had before break. But Aaron was still in too much of a daze to think much more about it. He wanted to cum himself but his belly was too tight to focus.

The other boys all looked hesitant but something told Aaron that they all wanted to fuck him and unload their cum in him just like their team captain did.

Part two

[wonsdoll]

𝐶𝑂𝐿𝐷 iN LA ── SJY

❄️ 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝖺 .. 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽

PREC𝓲S ｡｡ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒, 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗁𝖾.

심재윤 ／⠀𝑓𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 reader ── fluff + non 𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑙 au ｡｡ if you know this song, i love you >3< happy birthday to MY MAN !! ∿ ✦ more

♫ iS YOUR BODY TALKING, CAUSE YOU DONT KNOW WHAT TO SAY? DO YOU DO THIS OFTEN? IS IT ALL JUST A GAME? TO YOU IM WONDERIN’ , NEVER SEEN THIS SORT OF THING.. AM i THE ONLY ONE YOU CAME TO SEE ?

moving back to your hometown was supposed to be exciting. you got to be with your family again, reconnect with close friends, and experience everything from your childhood. part of you had forgotten you met jake in your hometown.

it was senior year 2019, when jake slipped a note in your locker saying he has a crush on you. at first you hesitated, “ why would the best soccer player at school have a crush on me? ” you were skeptical, but you went for it.

your relationship was perfect.. for a while. miscommunications were happening constantly, leaving you unsure about where your relationship stood. you called it off, leaving yourself and jake heartbroken. to escape your heartbreak, after high school you moved away.

being a few hours away from your hometown was difficult. you didn’t see your parents often, you were alone almost everyday, who lead you to feeling depressed. after some time away, you decided it was finally time to move back home.

you pulled into the driveway of your parents house, turning the car off as you hopped out of the driver seat. you walked to the front door and knocked on it, hoping your mother or father would answer.

“there you are sweetheart, i’m so glad you got here safe.” your mother pulls you in for a warm embrace, being in her arms after a long time felt like a warm blanket on the coldest day.

it was cold after all, it was the middle of december. the snow was falling softly, and your fingers grew red and cold. you got inside, where you reunited with the rest of your family members. over a cup of hot chocolate, your mother asks about jake.

“have you contacted jake since you got here?” she asks, her hand resting on top of your free hand.

jake.. a name you haven’t heard in months. “no.” you quickly said, sipping on your hot chocolate. you wanted to avoid the topic, deep down though, you wanted to know how he was doing.

“you know he visits sometimes… to see your brother” your mom added, you had forgotten your brother and jake were close. “shit..” you mumbled under your breath.

jake and your brother were on the same soccer team, after finding out they had a lot in common, they became close friends. close friends lead to spending the night at each others houses and play video games.

your brother came out of his room to greet you. “been a while, sis.” jaemin hugged you. your brother never hugged you, but you could easily tell he missed you. you caught up with your brother, during the conversation you managed to ask about jake and his well-being.

“so how is he..?” you ask, sipping your hot chocolate to avoid saying his name.

“who?” jaemin teases, forcing you to say the forbidden name.

“jake, stupid.” you roll your eyes, placing the cup onto the nearby coffee table.

“jake’s been alright. we went to nationals and he made us win the golden cup.” jaemin bragged, proud of the moment. “he’s a great guy you know.. i think he misses you.”

jaemin’s words had you for a minute, lost in your thoughts. you couldn’t imagine your ex of almost 5 years missing you, or even holding onto the feeling you.

“you’d think by now he’s probably seeing someone.” you tried to brush off the thought of jake, as much as you tried, he always came back to your thoughts.

you went into your childhood bedroom, your bed made the same way you left it, all your childhood goodies remained safe and tucked exactly where you left them. you skimmed through your shelves, looking past all your school awards and achievements.

your eyes became fixed on a stuffed bear jake had bought you after finding out you won your volleyball tournament, the matching bracelets you bought on a school trip, and other goodies you had saved.

the idea of throwing away anything that belonged to your past relationship hurt you, it was almost like you were throwing away the memories and the idea of him, which was far from the truth. ever since that talk with your brother, you wanted to see jake again, you just needed a way to.

you decided to grab a few essentials for dinner that night, your father promised to make all your favorite comfort meals but needed a few more things. as you were about to check out, you noticed a familiar face at the register.

it was jake, something about his appearance was different. he looked more mature, his hair got longer. he wasn’t the jake you knew back in highschool, he was far from that. nervously, you walked to the register jake was working at. his eyes widened as he met with your figure.

“y/n.. no way?” jake says, he stops scanning your groceries, giving you his full attention.

“hi jake..” you smiled nervously, it had been a while and it was clear you both were nervous.

“when did you come back?” he asks, his dark eyes meeting with yours, sending a familiar feeling up your spine.

“today actually..my dads making dinner tonight so i had to pick up some things. so you work here now?” you ask.

jake nods, smiling dearly. “ i do, it helps pay for university.” he resumes scanning your groceries, placing them all in a bag. “that’ll be $21.97”

you reach in your wallet to grab your card, you hold out the card for him to take and swipe. jake’s hand gently touches yours, you don’t pull away, instead you found yourself yearning for another subtle touch. as jake swipes your card, returning it to you, your fingers touch his.

jake’s face flashed a shade of pink, he grew more nervous. “have a good day y/n.. hope to see you soon.” he waved goodbye, his smile was just how you remembered, soft and sweet.

jake went home that same night, his thoughts were consumed with you. he wondered about what happened after you moved away, what your life was before coming back. he sat on the couch of his apartment, scrolling through his socials as he normally would. suddenly, his phone rang, causing him to jump out of his thoughts.

“hello?” jake answered, it was jaemin.

“hey, you wanna come over and play that new game that came out earlier this week.” jaemin asked, setting up his console for two players.

“yeah i’ll be there.” jake hung up, he grabbed his coat and a few snacks before heading back out.

jake arrived within 5 minutes, while him and your brother stayed up playing video games, you sat in your bed, your attention growing strong onto a book you’d recently gotten into. within a few hours of gaming, jaemin has fallen asleep on the bean bag chair he sat on.

jake got up slowly, he made his way to the door and opened it softly. his figure made it into the hallway, walking towards your half—closed door. jake knocked softly. “can i come in.”

“yeah.” you said, sitting up in your bed and placing your book to your side. “what are you doing up so late?”

“jaemin fell asleep.. and honestly i can’t sleep.” jake sat by the end of your bed, you could hear the tiredness in his voice and his eyes.

“how come?” you asked, leaning against the headboard behind you.

“because you’re back in town.. and i’m always thinking about you. but now, you’re here.. you’re consuming my mind so much y/n.” jake stopped, realizing he had said too much.

“i should go back.. shouldn’t i?” you asked, unsure if what he said was a good thing or bad.

“i don’t want you to go back, your home is here..with me.” jake leaned in close, the closest he’s been since your last moment together as a couple.

jake’s lips softly pressed against yours, pulling you into a sweet and soft kiss. his lips on yours was a familiar feeling, one you hadn’t felt in a long time. you slowly pulled away, jake had realized what he just did, he quickly backed up.

“i’m sorry.. i shouldn’t have done that.” jake got up from your bed. “i’m sorry y/n..” he quickly left your room, leaving you alone in your thoughts, questioning what happens next.

it had been a few nights since the incident in your bedroom, you refused to tell your mom or anyone, except yunjin, your childhood best friend.

you and yunjin were getting ready for a holiday party, you both wore matching red dresses and a similar heel. “so he kissed you?” she asks, finishing up her makeup.

“yeah he did.. i don’t know what to do now.” you sat down, getting ready to place your heels on.

“i say go for it, i mean your brother told you he misses you .. and he pulled that? you should absolutely go for it.” yunjin stops. “only if that’s what you want.”

“i do.. kinda?” you said, you were confused and lost in your thoughts.

life with jake again didn’t sound so bad, in fact you both grew as the years progressed, you matured as individuals and that was what mattered.

you and yunjin arrived at the apartment complex the party was being held at. the music was blasting, drinks were on the table and everyone was enjoying themselves. you sat down on a couch, your drink in hand as you watched everyone have a good time.

“wishing jake was here.. maybe he’d keep my company.”

you thought to yourself, when in reality, you didn’t know how to talk to him after the incident in your bedroom. you sipped your drink, when suddenly jake appeared from the crowd.

“looks like you’re not having fun, parties have never been your thing.” jake smiled, a hand reaching out towards you. “come.. let’s go outside for a bit.

“you remembered..” you smiled, taking his hand as you both walked out to the balcony. “of course i do..” jake adds, opening the door to the spacious area.

you and jake stood beside eachother, it was quiet for a moment, silence consumed most of the air, followed by the loud music coming from inside.

“i miss us.” you blurt out, a rather surprised look forming on jake’s face. “ever since i moved back here i was afraid of seeing you again.”

“why’s that?” jake asks, his hand leaning against the cold medal of the balcony.

“i don’t know..” you sighed. “we’re both confused, are we no-“

jake’s lips crashed onto yours, a sweet kiss you received weeks ago. the smell of his cologne filled your nostrils, it was all too familiar. his hand rested on your lower back, holding you close to him.

“i know what i want.. and that’s you.” jake smiled, holding you close to him. his eyes met with yours, sending a rush of shivers down your spine.

“i want you as well.” you smiled, leaning in to kiss him again.

[itneverendshere]

hiiii, i just read the school spirit fic with rafe AND ITS THE BEST FUCKING THING. i need a part 2 desperately please, i need rafe to play the best game he is ever played and everyone it’s like wtf but like omg. AND THE LAST GOL HE LIKE DEDICATES IT TO READER POINTING TO THE BLEACHERS. and then reader just goes with it and they fuck… please i need it

you ask and you shall receive! hope you enjoy <33

school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron (+18) - part ii

warnings: smut! paring: smart!reader x bimbo!rafe <3; pope being an absolute menace; read part i here; part iii word count: 4.7k

you were losing your fucking mind.

what were you thinking? oh, right! you weren’t.

the entire situation felt surreal, but there was no backing down now.

plus, when did some little dick hurt your feelings?

it was a win-win like you said before. if he won, you got laid after months without feeling a human's touch. if he lost, you wouldn't get laid and just walked away. either way, you’re not entirely disappointed with the outcome.

or at least that’s why you’ve been telling yourself.

as you walked to the stadium, your heart pounded in your chest, legs threatning to give out underneath you. yeah, you were a little nervous. but you blamed it on pope for giving you so much shit about the game.

he’d been insistent on you learning the rules, the players’ names, even memorizing their more common plays. it felt like he was trying to coach you into a small version of josé mourinho. 

everyone knew you were not the type to get invested in sports, let alone a college soccer match, but today was different and you were stupid enough to let your best friend convince you to wear a stupid jersey with rafe’s name and number on it.

13.

of course that walking disaster of a man would choose the unlucky number for himself. 

as you entered the stadium, the noise of the crowd was overwhelming. the chants, the cheers, the jeers—had you mentioned this was your first time watching a game? in real life? you knew people took this seriously, but it felt absolutely insane to witness it.

you could see the players warming up on the field, rafe among them.

he looked so different out there, focused and intense, very different to the reckless, unpredictable guy you were used to.

you followed pope like a lost puppy, and quickly found your seats in the stands, right in the middle of a sea of fans. some were dressed in the team's colors, others wore jerseys like yours, proudly displaying their favorite player's name and number. you felt out of place, a fraud among true fans, but there was no turning back now.

“turn that frown upside down, you gonna scare the bitches away.”

you rolled your eyes, “stop calling everyone bitches.”

from the corner of your right eye, you saw pope leaning closer, and without so much of a glance, you could tell he was about to spew out something stupid to piss you off.

“why are you so tense, hmmm? you’re getting laid tonight bro, cheer up!”

your hand instantly lifted to knock some sense into his head, “keep it down!” you hiss in his ear, “jesus.”

he just laughed, entirely unfazed by your irritation. “relaxxx, no one’s paying attention to us,” he said, casually draping an arm over the back of your seat. “they’re all too busy worshipping our soccer gods.”

you couldn’t help but glance around, noting the faces of fans who seemed to live and breathe for this moment. it was a different world, one you never quite understood.

you looked back at the field, your eyes finding rafe again. he was in his element, effortlessly moving through the warm-up drills, every motion proof to his athleticism. for a moment, you allowed yourself to appreciate the view. his jersey clung to his body, emphasizing muscles you hadn’t really paid attention to before…closely.

“hey,” pope nudged you, pulling you out of your reverie. “you’re drooling.”

“shut up,” you muttered, but couldn’t help the slight smile tugging at your lips, “i’m assessing the task.”

“don’t worry. rumor has it he’s big.”

you shot pope a glare, half-amused and half-exasperated. "do you ever shut the fuck up?"

pope just chuckled, shaking his head, “i’m dead serious.”

you were quiet for a minute. eyes drifting along rafe’s body, stopping—

“how big?”

“what?”

“how big.” you muttered under your breath, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to smack your friend for his relentless teasing.

he only sent you a wink, “you’ll find out soon enough sweetcheeks, it’s okay.”

"you’re so annoying," you gritted trough your teeth, trying to keep your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach, “so annoying.”

pope just grinned, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "the game’s starting, enjoy the view.”

the game started, and you tried to follow along, remembering pope's endless lectures. but rafe was everywhere, moving with a kind of grace you didn't know he possessed, toned legs carrying effortlessly across the field.

you watched him, transfixed, as he commanded the team, shouting orders and making plays. it was like seeing a different side of him, a side you couldn't reconcile with the rafe who caused so much chaos in the library. it was kinda hot. when he touched the ball, your heart leaped into your throat. you could see the determination in his eyes, the fire that drove him. 

then, it happened.

he dribbled past defenders as if they were mere obstacles in his way and then, he unleashed a powerful strike, the ball soared through the air, a perfect arc that left the goalkeeper rooted to the spot. time seemed to slow down as everyone watched with bated breath. then, the net rippled as the ball slammed into the back, and the stadium exploded.

"and cameron with an explosive start here! just six minutes into the game, and he's already showing us why he's a force to be reckoned with. that was a textbook example of skill and determination, folks! he saw the opportunity, he seized it, and he made it count! our boy is back!”

“holy fuck!” pope all but screamed in your ear as the crowd went wild, “what the hell did you tell him?!”

you turned to him, still sitting, momentarily speechless, as the realization sunk in that maybe, just maybe, your unconventional motivation had really ignited something within rafe. 

"i don't know," you managed to shout back, your voice drowned out by the crowd. but deep down, you knew. maybe it wasn't about the specifics of what you promised but the audacity of your offer that spurred him on.

as the game rolled on, rafe's presence on the field took over. every move he made sparked cheers and chants from the crowd, adding to the electric atmosphere. it was a far cry from your usual indifference to sports, but you couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement of it all.

in every pass, every interception, and every almost-goal, whenever he got the ball, the whole stadium seemed to hold its breath, as did you, waiting to see what he'd do next.

you were a hypocrite.

because he scored, again. 

when you thought, he was done showing off and making you eat your last week’s words up, you saw him turn to the stands after he celebrated the last goal with his teammates and your heart dropped to your ass.

there was no way in hell he was going to find you in that sea of people, right? you were safe. he was scanning the crowd, your section...searching for... you.

"shit," you muttered under your breath, trying to shrink into your seat. 

“yeah, that’s on me. sorry. told him your seat.”

if you weren’t about to puke, you would’ve punched pope in the face, instead you chose to keep your head down, eyes rooted to your beat up adidas, resisting the urge to bury your face in your hands.

“he’s coming up.”

you lifted your head, looking at pope incredulously, “he’s what?! pope, don’t fuck with me.”

“i’m sorry it was just too funny,” pope snickered, shaking his head, “he’s not coming, but he’s staring at you with those love-sick puppy eyes.”

you reluctantly glanced down to find him staring directly at you, chest heaving as he brushed a few stubborn strands of sweaty hair away from his forehead.

you almost, key word almost, gasped at you handsome he looked.

then a grin spread slowly across his lips. without breaking eye contact, he subtly raised his hand, a gesture only you could understand.

and it hit you. it was a callback to your shared sign language class in freshman year.

how the fuck did he remember that? you didn’t. not until he did it. 

hi beautiful.

you’d never felt the need to swoon over a man before. now you might. after what feels like an eternity, but were just mere seconds, you gathered your courage and raised your hand, mirroring his sign for a simple "hi" and adding a tentative smile.

it was an easy gesture, but it felt…different. rafe's smile widened in response before he turned to run back into the field.

pope, ever the instigator, nudged you again. "that was smooth.”

the glare returned to your face.

the rest of the game unfolded in a blur. rafe continued to dominate the field, scoring goal after goal with precision and skill that left you in awe. each time he celebrated, you found yourself holding your breath. 

when the final whistle blew and the stadium erupted in celebration, your jaw was nearly on the floor.

had he played like that his entire life? was this the same boy that you threatened to punch in the face if he didn’t get his life together? the team's victory was clear—a resounding 4-0 win.

"remember that name, folks—rafe cameron. he's not just a player; he's a game-changer. and with plays like that, he's proving why he's a standout talent on this field today!"

"well," pope finally managed to say, his voice tinged with disbelief, "looks like you're in for a ride."

you could only nod dumbly as you watched rafe celebrate with his teammates, the bond between them palpable even from a distance.

you swore you even saw him hug jj. 

as the stadium began to empty, you lingered in your seat, watching as rafe disappeared into the locker room with his team to shower. eventually, you gathered your belongings and followed pope out of the stadium.

“you gonna wait for him here?”

“i don’t know,” you groaned, itching to warm your freezing hands, “didn’t plan ahead.”

"so..." pope started again, "what's the plan now? going to find him?"

“i told—“ 

you were about to drill some common sense into pope when you feel something touch your back. not just something. a warm, blazing palm settling at the end of your back.

you froze, your heart racing as the warmth seeped through your jacket.

“cameron, nice game, for once.”

ignoring pope’s teasing, you leaned your head to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. and there he was. looking at you with that same confident tilt on his pretty lips that had both infuriated and intrigued you countless times before.

"hey," rafe said, his voice slightly breathless from the intensity of the game and the excitement still coursing through him.

"hey," you managed to reply, your voice surprisingly steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“oh okay. i get it.”

rafe glanced over at pope with a knowing smirk. "thanks for coming out, man.”

“you’re welcome by the way.”

rafe ignored the comment, eyes remained fixed on you. "glad you could make it," he said, his tone softer now.

“okayyy, i’m leaving. stay safe, byee!”

“pope,” you yelled out as he excused himself, “my doorm keys are in your car.”

“that sounds like a you problem.”

you stared after pope, mouth slightly agape, as he disappeared into the crowd. you'd have to figure that out later. for now, there was rafe, standing so close that the air between you didn’t seem enough. 

"guess we're stuck together,” you said, trying to sound casual, mentally cringing at how stupid it sounded.

rafe only chuckled, the sound low and warm against your skin, "seems like it."

“sooo—“

before you could finish your sentence, his hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

and then he kissed you

it was messy, sensual, and bruising all at once. his lips moved against yours with a hunger that took you by surprise, but you didn't pull away. instead, you matched his intensity, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as you kissed him back with just as much need. it felt like you were losing your fucking mind, but you didn't care.

he just felt so good.

his hands roamed up your lower back, pulling you even closer as if trying to merge you into him. his kiss was demanding, with a sense of deep-seated need that you hadn’t anticipated.

your fingers tangled in his hair, wondering if you’d ever get the chance to do this again after tonight. when you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, his forehead resting against yours as you tried to regain your composure. 

his thumb brushed gently over your cheek, “we’re leaving now.”

you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “now?”

“yeah, now.” rafe’s voice was resolute, leaving no room for argument.

he hoisted you up into his arms effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as if you weighed nothing. oh wow, you liked this.

“what are you doing?” you managed to gasp out, clinging to his shoulders for stability. he was so fucking strong it nearly made you want to eat him whole.

“taking you to bed,” he replied, his voice low, “we’ve got unfinished business.”

the walk to his dorm? you couldn’t remember.

you were acutely aware of the curious stares from other students, but you didn’t care. maybe the day after.

rafe cameron was carrying you on his arms inside his fraternity and when he finally reached his dorm, he kicked the door open with his foot, carrying you inside, before locking it. he set you down gently, his hands lingering on your waist as he stared into your eyes.

there was a fire there, an intensity that made your knees weak.

“that wasn’t fair, y’know."

your brows furrowed in confusion.

“tempting me for weeks.”

“well—i didn’t think—nmph!”

his lips were on yours again, the kiss just as desperate as before. you melted into him, your body pressing against his as you gave in to the sensation of his hands exploring your back, pulling you closer. your fingers fumbled to remove his shirt. he’d showered after the game but you were still wearing his jersey. he helped you, pulling it off in one swift motion, revealing the chiseled muscles beneath. you couldn’t help but run your hands over his chest, enjoying at the hard planes of his body.

his hands found the hem of your own jersey, “you’re gonna wear this to every game, you hear me?”

you tilted your head to the side, in mock confusion, “who said i'm going to your games?”

he chuckled, the sound deep and vibrating against your skin as his hands worked to pull the jersey over your head.

“oh, baby. you will. you won’t be able to stay away.”

“confident, are we?” you teased, even as your breath hitched at the way his hands roamed over your now-bare skin, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“you’ll see.”

he was kissing you.

again.

more insistent, like he couldn’t get enough of you, and you reveled in the feeling of being wanted so intensely. his hands slid down to your hips, gripping you firmly as he lifted you, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist.

you felt the hard press of him against you, a reminder of just how much he wanted this—wanted you. he carried you over to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness despite the urgency in his movements.

 he hovered over you for a moment, his gaze roaming over your body, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his voice low and husky as he trailed kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he went along.

you arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. “then stop talking and show me.”

that was the only warning rafe needed.

his hands were everywhere—tugging at your shorts, tracing the curves of your body, driving you wild with anticipation. he finally rid you of your remaining clothes, and you couldn’t help but shiver as the cool air hit your heated skin. but it didn’t last long, not with his body pressing against yours, his warmth enveloping you.

you lost yourself in the sensation—the taste of him, the feel of his hands gripping your thighs, the way he pressed into you.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice a breathless whisper against your lips, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt.

“god, yes,” you all but mewled, your hands clutching at his sheets, needing him to just do something, “need you to touch me right now.”

his fingers trailed down your body with deliberate slowness, “tell me how.”

you could barely form a coherent thought, let alone articulate what you needed. your mind was a haze of want and need, every nerve ending screaming for him.

but somehow, you managed to speak, “everywhere.”

a slow, predatory smile spread across his lips, and he dipped his head to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, drawing a gasp from your lips. his hand moved to your other breast, squeezing and kneading as his mouth worked its magic. 

“like this?” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing.

son of a bitch.

“yeah, oh, just like that,” you breathed, your fingers threading through his blonde hair, holding him close. “don’t stop.”

he didn’t.

his mouth and hands continued their relentless assault on your senses, driving you up the fucking walls. his lips trailed down your stomach, planting wet, open-mouthed kisses that left a trail of fire in their wake.

oh you needed to be fucked all right.

when he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused, his breath ghosting over your most sensitive area. 

“rafe,” you pleaded, your hips lifting off the bed in a silent demand, “don’t be a dick.”

he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “so needy,” he teased, but his voice was filled with reverent awe.

without further warning, he buried his face between your thighs, his tongue delving into your folds with a hunger that made you cry out. he licked and sucked, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place as he devoured you. 

this man ate pussy like the champion that he was and you loved it.

his tongue flicked against your clit with precision, with ease. rafe was relentless, his mouth working you to the brink, then easing off just enough to keep you on edge.

“fuck, rafe,” you gasped, your hips bucking against his face, desperate for more.

he growled in response, the vibration adding another layer of pleasure, and you felt yourself hurtling toward the edge. he must have sensed it, because his pace quickened, his tongue moving in perfect rhythm with the throbbing need building inside you.

your head was spinning as you looked down at him and met his heavy-lidded gaze searing a path straight to your core. you could only grab his bicep for stability, digging your nails into his skin.

and then, with a final, well-placed flick of his tongue, you came apart, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. rafe didn’t stop, didn’t let up, riding you through your climax until you were a boneless, quivering mess beneath him.

you never came so fast in your life. 

when he lifted his head, his lips glistened with your arousal as he crawled back up your body. he kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. you whimpered into his mouth, the sensation of his weight pressing you into the mattress grounding you as you came down from your high.

“holy shit,” you breathed when he finally pulled back, his eyes dark with lust and satisfaction. “good job, cameron.”

he grinned, a boyish, cocky smile that somehow made you want him even more. “glad you enjoyed it,” he murmured, his voice a rough, sexy whisper against your lips.

you reached down, fingers fumbling with the waistband of his shorts, desperate to feel him inside you.

“your turn,” you pulled his shorts down enough to free his cock. it sprang free, hard and heavy, and you couldn’t help but wrap your hand around it, stroking slowly.

oh wow.

so big big.

your hand moved around rafe’s cock lazily, feeling its weight and heat in your palm. he hissed through his teeth, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into your touch. you couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of him—so strong, so utterly at your mercy.

“fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” rafe muttered, his voice strained with need. he watched your hand with hooded eyes, his hips thrusting slightly in time with your movements.

you felt a surge of power, knowing you had this effect on him.

you grinned up at him, loving the way his breath hitched with every stroke. “don’t like it?”

his laugh was breathless, shaky. “oh, i do. but this—” he broke off with a groan as you squeezed him a little harder, “—this is something else.”

without breaking eye contact, you guided him towards your entrance, positioning him at your slick opening. he paused, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. 

“condom?” 

you nodded, your heart pounding in anticipation. “yeah.”

rafe reached over to the nightstand, fumbling for a moment before retrieving a condom. you watched, heart racing, as he tore open the foil packet with his teeth, the sound sharp and thrilling in the quiet of the room. he rolled it on swiftly, his movements sure and practiced. with the condom in place, he positioned himself between your legs.

he pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, stretching you until you thought you might break. the sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain that made you gasp, you were holding on for dear life as he filled you completely.

“god, you feel so good,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. he stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to the size of him, his hands cradling your face tenderly. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “’m good. just—move.”

rafe didn’t need any more encouragement.

he started to thrust, slow and deep, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him to go faster. his pace increased, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more frantic.

“can’t believe— fuck, oh, this is happening.”

“rafe,” you moaned, your voice breaking with every thrust. “just—don’t stop.”

his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. he rubbed it in tight, relentless circles, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire being. 

“fuck, that’s it,” rafe groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic, his grip on your hip tightening ,“so fucking beautiful.”

his lips found yours in an all-spit kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that matched the relentless pace of his hips. your fingers dug into his shoulders as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak.

"oh fuck," you gasped, breaking the kiss as the sensations overwhelmed you, “rafe,” you gasped, your fingers digging into his back, “i’m—”

“i know,” he cut you off, his voice strained. “me too.”

you could feel yourself teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body on fire. and then you were falling, your orgasm crashing over you, leaving you breathless and shaking in his arms.

your climax triggered his own, and seconds later with a few more powerful trusts, he buried himself deep inside you, body shuddering as he came, his moans low and hot in your ear.

you held onto him, feeling the rhythmic pulses of his release, the raw, primal intensity of it making your head spin.

for a moment, neither of you moved, both trying to catch your breath, your bodies still intertwined. then, rafe rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were lying against his chest.

you could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your cheek. you lay there in silence for a while, just enjoying the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest. you felt strangely happy, considering everything that had led to this moment, but you didn’t want to question it.

“so,” his fingers trailed lazily up and down your arm, “does this mean you’re coming to my next game?”

“not sure.”

the sensation of rafe still inside you, combined with the aftermath of your shared orgasm, left you both in a haze of pleasure.

but you weren’t done yet.

there was a need within you that demanded more, a desire to push the boundaries even further.

you slid out from beneath him, leaving him lying on his back. his blue eyes widened slightly as he watched you, curiosity and anticipation written all over his face. you settled yourself between his legs, your hands tracing the defined muscles of his abs before wrapping around his still-hard cock, after you pulled and tied the condom, throwing it into the garbage can in the corner.

“w—what are you doing?” 

you didn’t answer right away.

instead, you focused on stroking him slowly, your hand gliding up and down his length, feeling the pulse of his desire beneath your fingers. rafe groaned, his head falling back against the pillows, his hips lifting slightly in response to your touch.

overstimulation was a bitch. so were you sometimes.

“you won, right?” you replied, your voice sultry. “here’s your prize.”

his breath hitched, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “are you trying—oh fuck. trying to kill me?”

you smirked, increasing the pace of your strokes, your thumb circling the sensitive head of his cock, spreading the pre-cum that had gathered there. “is that a complaint?”

“not even close,” he managed to say, his voice strained.

you could see the tension building in his body, his muscles tensing, his breaths coming faster. you leaned down, letting your tongue flick over the head of his cock, tasting the salty sweetness of him. he jerked, a guttural groan escaping his lips, his hands fisting the sheets beneath him.

“baby,” he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as you took him deeper into your mouth, your hand still working the base of his shaft, “shit.”

you reveled in the power you had over him, the way his body responded to your every touch, your every movement.

you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked him hard. his hands moved to your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you, but not forcing you.

it only made him hotter.

the sounds he made, the way he writhed beneath you, only spurred you on. you wanted to push him over the edge, to see him come again because of you. you pulled back slightly, your hand pumping him faster, your mouth focusing on the sensitive head, your tongue swirling around it, teasing him mercilessly.

“’m so close,” he gasped, his grip on your hair tightening. “please, don’t stop.”

you had no intention of stopping. 

you increased your pace, your hand and mouth working in perfect harmony, driving him towards his release. you felt his body tensing even more, his breaths coming in ragged pants, and then he was coming, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he spilled himself into you with a hoarse cry.

you swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him, the satisfaction of knowing you had pushed him to this point. when you finally pulled back, rafe was a panting mess, his eyes half-lidded, his body trembling.

“you just made me fall in love with you, again.”

"what?"

[brodygold]

The Decision Part 2

Part 1 here

Liam sat on the edge of the empty soccer field, the sun dipping low in the sky, casting long shadows over the grass. The events of the day played over and over in his mind—the confrontation with Kareem, the cold dismissal, the shunning from the Vanguard. He had given everything to that team, and in a moment, it was all gone.

He thought about the white and green jersey he had worn only yesterday. It no longer represented pride or honor. Now, it was just a painful reminder of what he had lost. With a heavy sigh, Liam put his shoulders on his knees, thinking about the team that had abandoned him.

The sound of footsteps behind him broke through his thoughts. Liam turned to see a familiar face—Brody, the rising star of the Golden Army, walking toward him with a calm, steady stride.

“Liam,” Brody called out, his voice warm, carrying none of the judgment or pity Liam had expected. “Mind if I join you?”

Liam shrugged, too tired to put up a front. “Sure. Not like I’ve got anywhere else to be.”

Brody stopped beside him, looking out over the field. For a moment, neither of them spoke, just standing in silence, watching the last rays of sunlight fade.

“I heard what happened,” Brody said finally. “It’s rough, man. Really rough. But I wanted to tell you that you don’t have to be alone.”

Liam scoffed softly, not turning to meet Brody’s gaze. “Don’t have much of a choice, do I? The Vanguard made sure of that.”

Brody shook his head. “That’s not true. You’ve still got options. We’ve been talking, and the Golden Army—we want you to join us.”

Liam blinked, finally turning to look at Brody, surprise evident in his eyes. “What? Why would you want me? I just got kicked out of the Vanguard like yesterday’s trash.”

Brody smiled slightly. “Everyone makes mistakes, Liam. What matters is how you move forward. You’re a good player—one of the best. And more than that, you deserve a team that has your back, not just when you’re winning, but when things get tough too.”

Liam hesitated, the offer both tempting and terrifying. “You really think I’d fit in with the Golden Army? After everything?”

“Absolutely,” Brody said, without missing a beat. “We’re about more than just rules and discipline. We’re about supporting each other, growing together. And yeah, we push each other to be better, but we don’t abandon our own.”

Liam felt something stir inside him, a flicker of hope he hadn’t felt since he was cast out of the Vanguard. But with it came a fear of the unknown. He had spent so long adhering to the Vanguard’s rigid structure—could he really start over with a new team?

Brody seemed to sense his hesitation. “Look, I know it’s a big change. But I think it’s exactly what you need right now. A fresh start, a new beginning with people who won’t judge you for one mistake. Give it a chance. If you don’t feel like it’s right for you, no hard feelings. But at least try.”

Liam looked back at the field, the place where he had once felt at home, now a source of pain. Slowly, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll give it a shot.”

Brody’s smile widened, and he reached out, placing a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “Welcome to the Golden Army, then.”

Liam couldn’t help but smile back, a small, tentative smile, but genuine. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“There’s one more thing,” Brody added, reaching into his bag and pulling out a golden jersey. He handed it to Liam, who took it with a sense of reverence. “When you join the Golden Army, you get a new name. A fresh start, like I said.”

Liam looked at the jersey, then back at Brody. “What’s the name?”

Brody’s eyes held a spark of excitement as he answered, “Griffin. It’s a symbol of strength, courage, and loyalty. Qualities we see in you, Liam. From now on, when you’re with us, you’ll be Griffin.”

Griffin. The name resonated with him, filling the empty space that had been growing inside since his departure from the Vanguard. It was more than just a new name; it was a promise of a new beginning, a chance to be part of something greater than himself.

Griffin felt a weight lift from his shoulders as he pulled on the golden jersey. It fit perfectly, like it was meant for him. The uniform changed him slightly too. His hair lightened to a light brown. His pecs grew out slightly with more muscle and his facial hair fell away, revealing a clean shaven face.

He also started looking at Brody in a new light. Before, he was into women, but looking at Brody's plush lips sure made him want to try guys for the first time. Griffin found he didn't mind the feeling at all either.

As they walked off the field together, Brody and Griffin talked about the upcoming season, strategies, the team’s dynamic, and their own dynamic now too. The more they talked, the more Griffin realized that he was no longer just a player who had lost his way. He was now part of something bigger, something that valued him not just for his skills on the field, but for who he was off it. And he had a new boyfriend to thank for everything.

The Vanguard had been his past, but the Golden Army was his future. And with his new name, Griffin knew that the future was bright.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── WILLOW TREE

Synopsis: Years after you leave Japan, Rin Itoshi finally wins the World Cup. As he promised he would, he comes to find you afterwards. (part one here!)

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Rin x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4.1k

Content Warnings: rin is lowkey nice and therefore ooc because he’s implied to have matured (considering he’s like in his twenties atp), one reference to another fic of mine, almost as cheesy as part one, reader and her bff have to interact w a misogynist, nagi and barou mentions because they are my goats

A/N: @why2277 requested a part two for cherry tree so yk i had to deliver!! hehe this isn’t super romantic or anything because it’s rin and he’s allergic to emotions lowkey but i hope it’s fun anyways 🥹

Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!

From the window of the apartment you were renting for your final year of university, you could see a weeping willow tree. It was lovely and old, its leaves swaying in the slightest wind, and in the sunlight, it was too benevolent to be anything but ethereal. During the warmer months, you used to spread out a blanket in the grass beneath its shade and work on your homework, but now that there was a chill creeping into the air, you could only gaze longingly at it whenever you passed and imagine what it would be like in spring, when the temperature outside was once again tolerable.

Sometimes, on particularly stormy nights, the shapes of the leaves would coalesce into something resembling a man or monster. In those times, you would wish there was a room you could run to, albeit not out of any fear — you weren’t as easy to frighten as you had once been. It was nostalgia, horrible and sickening, which made your stomach turn and your heart palpitate, longing for a particular bed, a familiar embrace, though both were on the other side of the world and had been far out of your reach for years upon years now.

“Jeez,” your best friend said as the two of you elbowed your way into getting seats at the bar. Her university’s break had started earlier than yours, so instead of going directly to your hometown, she had come to visit you first, and of course in celebration of your reunion, you both had decided to visit the most popular bar in the area. “What’s going on? Hey, dude, what’s everyone watching?”

The man she was talking about spun around in surprise, his eyes enormous at her question, like he found it impossible that she was asking such a thing. She scowled at him, waiting for him to answer; when he realized she was being serious, he scoffed.

“It’s the World Cup final,” he said, before adding, under his breath, “Fucking girls.”

“The World Cup?” you said, your interest piqued despite his less than savory addition. “Who’s playing?”

Your best friend gave you a surprised look. “Since when have you cared about soccer?”

The man gave you a measured look, his face still pinched with distaste, and then he shrugged. “Japan and Germany. Craziest shit I’ve seen in a while. Never thought the Japanese team would get so far, but they’re goddamn monsters. Germany’s in the lead for the moment, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Japan turns it around and makes a comeback victory.“

“I see,” you said, craning your neck so you could see the small TV in the corner. Your best friend nudged you in the side, and when you glanced at her out of the corner of your eye, her brow was furrowed in confusion.

“What’s the big deal?” she said. “I didn’t realize you were into sports.”

“I’m not,” you said. “I was just reminded of something when he mentioned the World Cup, that’s all.”

You wondered if he was playing, and if so, whether he, too, remembered that half-awake promise he had made you. You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. If you were any smarter, any less stubborn, you would’ve forgotten as well.

“Holy fucking shit!” the man shouted as the screen flashed in celebration of a goal.

“What?” your best friend said, enthralled, though her expression soured every time she glanced at the rude man, who the two of you were sadly dependent on for explanations.

“That was such a clean shot,” he said, eyes sparkling. “Rin Itoshi…he’s an amazing player. True, sometimes people forget that, because half of his teammates are the biggest peacocks known to mankind and hog all of the attention with their showboating, but I’d take him over Seishiro Nagi or Shoei Barou any day. Maybe he doesn’t have that flair or power, but he’s technically perfect, and that’s something none of the others can claim — not even that genius playmaker, Isagi!”

You didn’t know enough about soccer or the Japanese team to have an opinion on the rest of his claims, but you did know about Rin Itoshi, so you smiled softly and nodded. “Yeah, Rin’s pretty cool.”

Your best friend, who had finally caught up to what you were talking about, snickered. “That’s not what you used to say. I recall you hating him quite a bit.”

The man fully spun around in his barstool, glaring at you with his arms folded over his chest, his left hand gripping a beer. “On what grounds could one possibly hate Rin Itoshi? Name any player, and I’ll explain why he’s clear of them. Seriously, aren’t females supposed to like Rin? For his looks and all?”

You and your best friend exchanged glances before slowly inching away. There was no point in entertaining the man further; he was just inclined to see the worst in you two no matter what, and you would probably be better off trying to find another bar or just heading to your house for the night.

“Ah, I don’t really know any other players,” you admitted, grabbing your purse and slinging it on your shoulder. “I just happened to live with the Itoshis for a while during my first year of college.”

“What?” the man shrieked, though thankfully the music and chattering was so loud that only a couple of heads turned. “You lived in a house with Rin Itoshi?”

“Uh…” you trailed off, looking around and spotting the door at the same time as your best friend. Without even a signal, both of you took off for the exit at once, leaving the now-sputtering man behind and not slowing down until you were well down the street.

“I hate guys like that,” your best friend gasped out, leaning against the wall of a bagel shop, which was closed due to the late hour. “What a jerk.”

“Honestly,” you agreed. “At least he was kind of helpful, even if he did repeatedly insult our gender and treat us like children.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Rin Itoshi, huh? That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. Feeling nostalgic?”

“A bit,” you said. “I told you he had a crush on me, didn’t I? Or at least, I think he did. I’m not sure if he realized it himself.”

“Yup, I remember. It explained a lot more of his actions than it really should’ve,” she said. 

“Well, the truth is that the night I asked him about his feelings, he told me he didn���t have a crush on me or anything, but that after he retired from soccer for good, things might be different,” you said. This was something you hadn’t told anyone, not even her. For some reason, there had been a seriousness to the way he spoke, and at the time it had felt like a betrayal to share it with another person. Then, when you had moved back home at the end of the semester and the two of you had stopped speaking entirely, it had faded from the forefront of your mind, locked away alongside the rest of your memories from those strange few months.

“No way,” she said with a chuckle. “Did he think you’d wait for that long? Soccer players don’t retire until they’re in their thirties, right? That’s a long time to expect someone to keep you in their mind.”

“I told him as much, but as you know, I was apparently a huge distraction to his soccer career, so he couldn’t have me ruining that or whatever. Anyways, uh, he promised that once he won the World Cup, he’d come and find me,” you said. “So. I was just reminiscing a bit over that, I guess.”

“Do you think he will?” she said. You shook your head. 

“Of course not,” you said. “He’s famous now. I mean, random men in bars praise him, so he must be a celebrity, right? There’s a lot of girls he could have, and anyways, I myself wouldn’t have even thought of it if that guy hadn’t brought him and the World Cup up. Why would it be any different for Rin?”

“That’s fair,” your best friend said. “Fame changes people.”

“Right,” you said. “It’s just a cool story that I can tell at parties now. Like, did you know that famous footballer Rin Itoshi once told me I was the most annoying person he had ever met? I bet it’ll be a real winner.”

“Fascinating tale,” she said. 

“Thanks,” you said. “Like I said, it’ll be popular with the crowds for sure. Ah, provided that they believe me, of course.”

“That’s true,” she said, snorting in amusement. “It does kinda sound like you’re making it up. You were too busy arguing with him constantly, too, so you never even took any photos with him.”

“I know,” you said. “Oh, well. They can believe me or not. It did happen, so who cares what anyone else thinks?”

“Very mature,” your best friend said with a nod. “Moving on, what should we do next? That bar’s kinda out of the question.”

“Technically, I do still have class tomorrow,” you reminded her. “So maybe sleeping is a good idea?”

“Ugh, I forgot about that,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Sorry. Yeah, let’s get back. We can do more stuff once we’re home and off for the week.”

“Sounds good to me,” you said. “It looks like it’s going to rain soon, anyways, so that’s probably for the best.”

You were right — almost as soon as you entered your apartment, the earlier breezes turned to gales, and one of those storms which was not quite wintry but gray and gloomy regardless churned into existence. You and your best friend were quick to get ready, both surprisingly exhausted, and then she made herself comfortable on your couch while you settled in your bed, pulling the blankets up over your shoulders and staring out of your window, watching the bare branches of the willow thrash about desperately, like they were searching for something that they could never have.

The break was short but relaxing, and before you knew it, you were back at your apartment in school, although you didn’t have your best friend’s company this time. You settled back into your typical routine, and within a few days, your life was once again mundane and usual. Any thoughts of the past or of excitement vanished in the haze of working and studying, and indeed it sometimes felt like you were more of a zombie trudging through life until the winter next became alive instead of dull.

Two weeks after you returned to university, you were walking home in the evening after a study group meeting in the library, humming to yourself and texting one of your friends about a homework assignment, when you became acutely aware of footsteps mirroring your own. You tested it out, first slowing and then speeding up your pace, but no matter what you did, they matched you so eerily that you became genuinely worried.

Swallowing, you sped up again, hoping you could, in some way, outrun this pursuer which you had picked up. When the pat-pat of sneakers on concrete behind you sped up as well, you gasped and then broke into a run. This wasn’t just the beginning of every horror movie but also of many true-crime documentaries. A girl. A dark evening. A mysterious stalker. Were you going to be murdered or something?

“You’re painfully slow,” your would-be assailant said, keeping up with your full sprint and not even sounding winded. “Anyways, why are we running? Did you take up jogging once you left Japan or something?”

You skidded to a stop, turning to see a familiar figure a few steps behind you. When he noticed you had stopped, he did as well, and though he tried to fight it, a tiny smile threatened to bloom on his face when he noticed your awed expression.

He was wearing a pair of loose joggers and an oversized sweatshirt, which wasn’t his typical sense of style but suited him, as everything did; additionally, despite the late hour, there was a pair of sunglasses pushed up into his hair, which shone in the light of the street lamp you both stood under. His hands were shoved in his pockets, though he raised his right to wave at you shyly, the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks pink — whether from the biting cold or something else, you could not tell.

“Rin?” you said. He nodded. “Rin, what are you—?”

You broke off in disbelief, unable to even move. In your wildest dreams, when you pictured reuniting with him, you had imagined something more romantic. Perhaps one of you would pick the other up from the airport, and you’d dash towards him and leap into his arms and he’d spin you about and — well, now that you thought about it more, that was a little unrealistic. Rin had never been that kind of person. The distance between you two had made your heart grow fonder, and time had formed a rosy film over your memories, but Rin as you had truly known him had always been standoffish and awkward.

“We won the World Cup,” he said. “No. I won it.”

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, I — I saw you score.”

His stare was arresting, his eyes the same brilliant shade as a writhing sea, framed by dark lashes which fluttered as nervously as a wasp’s wings. For a second, you thought he must be waiting for you to say something else, but you dismissed the thought in turn. What else would you even say?

After a second, he exhaled, his breath forming crystals in the air. “Yeah. Well, uh, I’m sure you’ve forgotten by now, but I told you, didn’t I? That once I won the World Cup, I’d find you?”

“I didn’t forget,” you said, swallowing. “I thought you might’ve, though.”

“I wouldn’t,” he said. “I’m mad at you, so of course I needed to see you again.”

“Mad at me?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “I was so sure it would be better once you left, but it got worse. I thought of you even more. It was awful.”

“Didn’t seem to impact your soccer career any,” you pointed out.

“Maybe it did. Maybe I’d be even better if it weren’t for you,” he said. You waited for him to laugh. He didn’t, but there was mirth shimmering in his irises, which was close enough, so you allowed yourself to shake your head in amusement.

“I guess we’ll never know,” you said.

“Guess not,” he said.

“How did you even do it?” you said. “Find me, I mean.”

“I knew which university you went to,” he said.

“That’s it?” you said. “It’s not like this is a small school.”

“Believe me, I know,” he said. “I’ve been here since last Thursday.”

“Seriously?” you said.

“Seriously,” he affirmed. “I’ve been spending every day on campus looking for you. It took me a while, but I didn’t want to give up until I saw you again.”

“You did all of that and nobody recognized you?” you said.

“One of my teammates hates the media so much that he’s perfected the art of disguising himself in public. I figured that if it works for him, despite him being built like a white-haired telephone pole, it would probably do fine for my purposes,” he said.

“I see,” you said. “I guess that’s what’s the deal with the clothes.”

“Exactly,” he said.

“Well,” you said. “I don’t…I mean, I don’t really know what to say. I never thought I’d actually see you again, so this is kind of a lot. I’m sorry.”

“Did you want to?” he said.

“Huh?” you said.

“Did you want to see me again?” he said, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Did you ever think about me?”

“Let’s walk back to my apartment,” you said instead of answering the question. “I want to show you something.”

“Okay,” he said, walking at your side obligingly, though he kept a careful distance between you both. You did not try to close it, not yet. It didn’t feel right.

“By the way, why did you follow me like a creep?” you said as you changed course towards your apartment complex. “You should’ve just said hi like a normal person instead of scaring me.”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I just didn’t want to say anything.”

“Didn’t want to?” you said.

“Couldn’t,” he amended. “I didn’t realize how hard it would be until I saw you again. I had so many things I needed to tell you, and as soon as you were in front of me, I forgot them all.”

“That’s a shame,” you said. “If you remember any, let me know.”

He mulled this over for a moment before clearing his throat. “My brother’s getting married soon.”

“Really? How exciting,” you said. You had never met Sae Itoshi, so the news didn’t strike you one way or another, but you were just glad to hear Rin’s voice again, so you would’ve listened to him talking about anything and been happy about it.

“Yeah, it’s this girl he met while they were both on vacation by the beach in Spain,” he said. “She accidentally tackled him while trying to get her sandwich back from a seagull.”

“That’s a fun story,” you said. “Imagine your kids ask you how you met their mother and you get to tell them that.”

“There’s more to it, surprisingly,” he said. “But anyways, yeah, she’s nice. I don’t mind her that much.”

“Given that she’s going to be a part of your family, it’s good that you get along with her,” you said.

“Mhm,” he said. “Can you come?”

“To the wedding? Er, I don’t think I’m invited,” you said.

“I’m inviting you,” he said, his throat bobbing as he averted his gaze. “I want you to come. With me.”

“Oh,” you said. His eyes widened slightly.

“Am I — are you — um, Y/N. You don’t have a boyfriend or anything, right?” he said.

The two of you had reached the willow tree. You paused, gazing up at it. The branches no longer had their leaves, and it seemed more depressing and spindly instead of lush and inviting, as it did in the summer months. Rin stopped next to you, and you shifted so that there was only a hair’s breadth between your arm and his.

“When it rains really hard, this tree looks like a creature from one of those horror movies you used to watch,” you said. “It doesn’t scare me, not hardly, but I always wish I could run to you anyways. I guess there’s your answer. Every time there was a storm, I thought of you. Every time I saw this tree, I thought of you. Every time someone mentioned owls or soccer or scary films, I thought of you. So, yes. Sometimes, occasionally — or perhaps frequently, depending on how you see it — I did think of you. I did want to see you again.”

“What about the second question?” he said.

“A lot of people have tried,” you said. “Guys have asked me out. Friends have set me up and convinced me to go on blind dates. It never really works out, though. In the back of my mind, I’ve always been waiting for someone else. For a major jerk, in fact. The biggest jerk on the planet. Everyone probably thinks I’m crazy. It’s a ridiculous thing to say aloud, and even more ridiculous to actually do it, but here I am.”

“How long will you keep waiting for him?” he said.

“A while,” you said. “At least until I can meet someone as annoying as he is. I’ve been bored without him, and I don’t take well to boredom.”

Rin’s features were settled in a contemplative mask, his brows drawn together and his head tilted slightly. It was your chance to watch him; you had nothing more to say, so you opted for silence. Things like confessions and feelings weren’t really your style, nor were they his, but you hoped that he would understand what you had meant regardless. Just this once. Even if he never did again, this once, you wanted him to understand you.

“Thank you,” he said, and then: “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” you said.

“For making you wait. For letting you be bored,” he said. “Although it’s not my fault. I could’ve won the World Cup the year you left if it had happened then, and then we would’ve met again way sooner.”

“It’s okay. Listen, Rin, I want to — no, I have to ask you something,” you said, and then you took a deep breath to steady yourself. “Come summer, will I still be able to see you? Can I show you this tree once it has its leaves, or is this the last time?”

The last time. Was this reunion like a fleeting dream? Would it be better or worse when you were split apart from him anew? How much longer could you bear to keep waiting for him? You had no idea, but it seemed impossible, the thought of being apart from him once more.

“If you come home with me, you can always see me,” he said. “There’s another tree there. One that you’ll remember. Is that close enough?”

“What about my job and my life here?” you said, taken aback at the bold offer, which felt a little out of the blue, although maybe it shouldn’t have. “I’ll graduate this year, and then I’ll start working. How can I leave all of that behind?”

“You don’t have to leave it behind forever. Not if you don’t want to,” he said. “I’d never make you do that. But Sae’s — the wedding, it’s in the spring. The cherry tree will have flowers then. I can show it to you. You never saw it like that, I don’t think, but you’ll like it. I’m sure you will.”

A ghostly wind whistled through the willow tree’s branches, and the street lamp illuminating Rin’s face flickered. Part of you had never really believed you’d look upon that face again, no matter how much you had wanted to. His features were different from the last time you had seen him, a little sharper, more weathered, the once-permanent scowl replaced with a blank, neutral expression as he waited for you to respond, but it was still his face before you.

“It’ll be warm there, won’t it?” you said. “I’m always cold here.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’ll be warm. Are you cold right now?”

You nodded. He made to shrug off his sweatshirt, but you shook your head, catching his arm and then placing it around your shoulders. He cocked his head at you, and then, all at once, recognition flashed in his eyes. Wrapping the other arm around you of his own volition, he pulled you into his chest carefully, unsurely, his heart pounding — you knew because you could hear it, could feel it, the way it beat against his sternum like a battle-cry.

“I miss it,” you said. “I was only there for one semester, but I still miss it.”

It, or him? Maybe both. Definitely both.

“You don’t have to anymore,” he said. You wondered if he meant his home, which in a way was also your home, or if he was talking about himself. “It’s yours. It’ll always be yours. Our roles are reversed now, I guess.”

“Reversed?” you said. You must’ve sounded like an idiot or an echo, dumbly repeating everything he said without comprehension. 

“I’ll be the one waiting,” he said. “And if you want…you can come and find me. I won’t make it hard. I’ll be where I always have been.”

“Do you think you can wait as long as I did?” you said.

“If I have to,” he said. “Will you make me?”

“No,” you said. “No, I won’t. You only have to wait until the spring. Then I’ll be there, and I don’t think — to tell you the truth, I don’t think I’ll be able to leave once I am.”

“Is it wrong if I say good?” he said.

“Maybe,” you said. His body was likely akin to a furnace or something, you thought, for curiously, in his embrace, you no longer felt frigid, though it had only gotten cooler and cooler out. “But even if it is, I won’t be the one to judge you for it.”

“Good,” he muttered breathlessly. “Good.”

You smiled broadly this time, broadly and fully, though he couldn’t see you do it — or maybe it was because of that fact that you could beam like this, as brightly as if you had won the lottery. Then again, you supposed that to you if no one else, you had. After all, somehow, despite all odds, Rin had found you again, and this time, he wouldn’t leave. Never again would he leave, not entirely, and if he did ever go, it would only be to a place where he could wait for you longer.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, Rin. It’s good.”

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

EWAN MITCHELL PHOTOGRAPHED AND INTERVIEWED FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES MAGAZINE.

ABOUT BEING RECOGNIZED

Like most people, Ewan Mitchell is accustomed to anonymity.

So during a recent trip to Manhattan, he was surprised by what a hotel doorman asked when he arrived: “You haven’t packed your eye patch?”

The actor is still getting used to strangers making the connection in public.

“I wouldn’t think people would recognize me, but they do.”

“I think it’s because of my strong chin.”

“When I’m dressed up as Aemond and catch myself in the mirror, he scares even me a little bit.”

When he’s not in character, Mitchell is soft-spoken and occasionally flashes a boyish grin, though he retains much of Aemond’s seriousness and quiet intensity.

He is also very private: He stays off social media and in the past has shied away from sharing much with the public.

“Once you lose the mystery, you can’t really get it back.”

HE KNOWS THAT AEMOND'S KEY ROLE IN S2 MEANS HE MUST ALSO EMBRACE THE SPOTLIGHT:

“There is a point where you have to go, now’s the time to pull back the curtain.”

Like Aemond, Mitchell is a second son.

He grew up in Derby, an industrial town in the middle of England, and his parents expected him to follow his older brother’s footsteps and work at Rolls-Royce (the aerospace and industrial technology company, not the carmaker).

HIS INSPIRATIONS AND BECOME AN ACTOR

Inspired by films like “Citizen Kane” and “Taxi Driver,” Mitchell knew early on he wanted to become an actor.

When he was 13, his teacher asked each student in his class what they wanted to do when they grew up.

“Then it came to me, and I said, ‘I’m going to be an actor,’ and everyone laughed at me.”

His family could not afford tuition for drama school, so Mitchell attended a two-year vocational school, where he studied design and technology while working part-time at a restaurant and in customer service at a local soccer club.

Midway through the program, at 17, he was accepted into the Nottingham Television Workshop, a drama group that trains young people in acting.

Through the Workshop, Mitchell landed a leading role in a 2015 short film called “Fire,” about a young man who leaks fire from his hands.

Once the short was released, Mitchell downloaded it onto a dozen CDs, took the train to London and stopped by the offices of every agent he could find, handing them each a copy.

The one person who called back continues to represent Mitchell.

“By hook or by crook, I wanted to make sure that I was going to be in this business.”

ABOUT BEING CASTED AS AEMOND TARGARYEN

Aemond’s growing prominence in the show requires Mitchell to embrace the spotlight as well.

“There is a point where you have to go, now’s the time to pull back the curtain.”

But being cast as Aemond in “House of the Dragon” has been his biggest professional turning point by far.

“Since landing him, I feel like I’m able to now steer the course of my career.”

Mitchell had been rewatching the classic Hollywood adventure film “The Vikings” (1958) and musing about how he wanted to play a morally dark character similar to the one played by Kirk Douglas when he received an email inviting him to submit a taped audition for Aemond.

When he eventually auditioned in person, he left a lasting impression on Ryan Condal, the showrunner for “House of the Dragon.”

“When Ewan came into the room, he just had this presence to him that I can best describe as unsettling,” Condal said.

“It was kind of quietly terrifying the way he performed it, and it was totally different than everybody else. And then he thanked us very politely and left the room.”

Condal recalls asking Kate Rhodes James, the casting director, “Is he always like that?”

She replied, “Oh no, he’s just a very intense northern boy.”

To prepare for his role, Mitchell did not watch “Game of Thrones.” Instead, he read portions of “Fire & Blood,” the book by George R.R.

Martin that inspired the show, and studied the performances of Michael Fassbender in “Prometheus” and Peter O’Toole in “Lawrence of Arabia,” each playing a figure who wields power for his own ends.

ABOUT MATT SMITH AND DAEMON TARGARYEN

On his first day on set, Mitchell consulted with Condal and decided that he would avoid interacting with Matt Smith, who plays Aemond’s similarly menacing uncle and rival, Daemon, in order to heighten the tension between the two characters.

Mitchell had grown up admiring Smith’s performance in “Doctor Who.”

But on set Mitchell avoided any eye contact with him, keeping his distance until the climactic scene near the end of the first season when Aemond and Daemon finally face off.

“There’s this addictive kind of quality when you’re in the shoes of a character.”

“When you lose yourself for a moment, it’s almost like a dream.”

ABOUT HIS HOME AND HIS DOGS

When he isn’t acting, Mitchell still lives at his family home in Derby and spends time with his dogs, three whippets named Eva, Bella and Bonnie.

“Now that I’m on it.”

“I’ve just got to stay on the dragon.”

[tarjapearce]

Omg omg could we get a story about how Miguel and wife/reader first meet? Like maybe they both meet from high school or reader was watching Miguel play soccer with his friends in college!

Had this one sitting for a while cause I didn't know what to do. UNTIL, hehehe >:D Carneadas. (Mexican style bbq)

Pt 2

If someone would have told you that you'd find your future husband in a friend's of a friend gathering you would've just laugh it off.

Jessica and you were fresh out of college, and to celebrate it, she decided to take you on one of her outings. A suburban area, nice houses loitering around in every corner your eyes turned, a lot of parked cars and of course, people that clumped in the decored entrance.

Lights and loud spanish music were just the spark to create ambience, the true star of the night was brewing in two enormous pots. The smell of food lingered in the air the more Jessica pulled you within the crowd.

"Remind me again, who are these people?

"Friends of friends. Never been in a carneada before?"

"My family does these once a month, just don't get why is there so much people."

"We'll, everyone's for the food, so... yeah. Just have fun."

You greeted the people as your feet took you to the drinks. Beers, sodas, more beers and pitchers of horchata, Jamaica, and some lemonades were placed on the coolers.

Reaching for the horchata, you grabbed a plastic vase and poured yourself some. To your surprise a man, the biggest one you have seen in your whole life, stood next to you, his eyes focused in the different brands of canned beers submerged in ice.

Your hand reached for a Modelo and popped the lid out with one of your rings. The man eyed you with amusement. He grabbed a Corona but frowned upon not finding the lid popper. He was going to take the lid to his mouth and you gasped

"Wait! No. Don't do that."

"I can open them, thanks" His voice deep.

"Mano, si que eres terco." (Man, you're stubborn)

He blinked at your voice and handed you the beer, you just popped the lid with the corner of the table.

"Don't mess up your teeth."

The man seized you, a lax smile on his lips.

"Too late for that" He smirked, revealing a longer than average canine. Your eyes went up in surprise.

"Oh."

The music changed and you took the drinks to then sit next to Jessica. You gave her the beer. Some people danced, others were lining up for the food.

"What were you doing?"

"Just met Dracula."

Jessica tilted her head in confusion and laughed.

"I'm not joking, the man had big ass fangs."

"Didn't know you were into that sort of things, but we don't kink shame."

"Jessica!" Her boyfriend had swooped off her feet and took her to dance. Great. You were ditched.

At first, you refused to dance, but as the music changed, your feet were itching to do so. Another man was brave enough to approach you and ask you for a dance, then another, you danced with Jess and clapped once the song was over.

You went to the drinks again to refresh yourself, this time you got a Corona and took a long swig of it.

"My, that was so fun."

-----

Even though your evening had been fun, you needed a break from the party. The host, Peter, seemed like a very easygoing person. Jessica was his acquaintance.

You went to the kitchen in search for another glass of horchata, even though beers were tasty and reminded you a bit of home, the horchata was simply delicious. There was no glasses, but spotted a pack of plastic cups ontop. Problem, was that the fridge was a bit too high for your likings.

You pulled up a chair, ready to climb ontop when the same large hand reached over and pulled a couple of cups down.

"Thanks."

"Who said it was for you?"

The man from before teased, you rolled your eyes and climbed ontop of the chair to reach for a cup yourself.

"No te vayas a caer, Pitufina." (You'll fall down, Smurfette)

"Cállate, Drácula." (Shut up)

He shook his head with a chuckle.

What a douche

"Lemme"

"No, I can do it."

"Te vas a caer con esos tacones." (You'll fall down with those heels)

"It's not a big deal!"

"-Ta madre, lo que tienes de bonita lo tienes de terca. Bájate" (Your stubbornness only matches your beauty. Get down.)

Your lips pouted, a mild flush sweeping your face. You took his hand and he helped you to get down the chair. Even in your heels, you still looked small.

"You are supposed to say thanks."

"For doing something myself?"

His smile went a bit wider.

"Food's done. Let's go"

"Wait." You poured another glass of horchata

"Didn't know my recipe would have a fan."

"Meh, my mom's better"

Your smile smug as he deadpanned.

"Just bit more of sugar. And blend the rice well. There are some little pieces of it in the bottom."

He was about to protest when a man, similar to him spoke. His brother you supposed.

"Miguel?" He looked between him and you, "Ya está la carne, hay que servir" (Meats done, we gotta serve up)

He then left

"Wanna go critique my food as well?"

"Ohh, I'd love to yeah."

----

He'd serve the food along his younger brother, you were one of the last ones in getting your portion. He prepped your plate with a little more care, the Birria's consomé (broth) in a side, another little container for the sauces and of course two big loaded quesabirrias and a bunch of different roasted meats.

"Hope it's from your likings, chaparrita"

"We'll see about that, Dracula" You smirked and took the dish, fingers brushing for a moment.

"Provecho" (Bon Appetite)

------

"How was it?" He sat across you once more upon seeing you alone. Jessica had ditched you again. Oh she so owed you this one.

You shrugged with a smile.

"Good? Bad?"

"I'm teasing. It was great. Specially the broth. Thanks for cooking."

He took a swig of his beer.

"De nada." (You're welcome)

"Miguel! Hay que limpiar" (We gotta clean up)

Gabriel's voice boomed behind him.

"Need help with it?"

His eyes stared at you for a moment and pursed his lips, trying to hide a smile.

"Si quieres" (If you want to.)

-----

You had waved your goodbyes and hopped in with Jessica in her car and left. He just then realized that he never asked your name.

Dumbass.