i love your face and existance whoops

College Football (Preference - 5SOS)

Quick little Football one shot with some mild references to them being on my favorite team, don’t judge. -Laney

Ashton (Quarterback):  “All right team huddle up!” Ashton called out, clapping his hands together. There were seconds left in the Iron Bowl, most important game of the year to the thousands of fans looking on and the even more watching on tvs at home.

There was only one fan he cared about though. Ashton glanced up at your seat in student section just behind the goal posts. He could see you amongst the fans even from that far away. He knew your seat by heart; he’d bought your season tickets earlier this year as a birthday present, and he’d made sure to get seats he could see from the field.

The defense had allowed their offense to get down the field twice, resulting in two field goals that put him down by six. He needed to get a touchdown, and he only had one shot left. Ashton looked away from you and back at his teammates, calling the play and breaking the huddle; he couldn’t waste any more clock than he had to.

“Set!” Ashton looked down the line, checking that all of his team was in position. They were so he signaled the center and yelled, “Hike!”

He caught the hike and stepped back into the pocket, focusing on finding an open receiver while keeping an eye on the line in front of him to ensure he had time.

The line was holding for now, but it wouldn’t last much longer. Overlooking the line, he could see one of his receivers pulling away from their defender. It was pretty far down field, and the line was starting to collapse. Ashton backed up further and gave himself some space as one of the defensive line came through, and Ashton chucked the ball as hard as he could in the direction of the receiver before he was laid out by the defensive lineman.

Ashton was in a daze as the lineman got off him, and he pushed himself off the ground, trying  to see what happened to the play despite the aching in his side. There was a roar in the crowd, but that could have been the other team cheering at his failure.

Ashton scrambled to his feet and looked up towards the endzone where the tight-end had lifted the receiver up in the air, the caught ball still in his hand as he celebrated. Ashton’s face widened into a smile as his teammates rushed him, but just before he was engulfed by the swarm of helmets and muscle he took a glance up into the stands where you were stood, absolutely calm with a wide proud smile on your face. He touched his hand to his heart and pointed in your direction, but he didn’t get to see you return the gesture before his teammates were slapping him on the back and congratulating him on his win.

Calum (Kicker): Calum couldn’t believe it. Had he really just made that kick? His teammates were rushing towards him from the sidelines, and there were fans jumping down onto the field. The players in front of him were ecstatic and jumping into each other celebrating, and just past them were the gold and purple clad opponents who were stunned silent. He must have made it; why else would people be acting like this?

“Way to go Hood!” Calum didn’t get to see who’s number it was on the jersey before he turned around and was lifted in the air by the hulking mountain of sweat and muscle.

The bubbling of excitement was getting to him, and Calum could feel himself getting hyped. He’d just won the game! They’d won the championships! His 55-yard, nearly impossible, field goal had just won them a national championship!

The second Calum’s feet hit the turf he ran for the sidelines, ripping off his helmet. He threw it on the bench, and without the obstruction on his face he looked around the field for the only face that mattered.

His team was at center field celebrating; tons of cameras were charging in on coach and the quarterback, a few clearly looking around for Calum; fans were rushing towards midfield; the other team was heading towards the locker rooms; their fans were packing up their things and trudging from the stadium in disappointment; the announcers were in fits of shock calling out over the microphone for a replay on the big screen, but none of that mattered. “I told you you could make it.”

Calum whipped around, and a bright smile spread across his face. There you were.  “(Y/n)!” He scooped you up into his arms and swung you around in the air, excitement overflowing in that moment. “We won!”

You laughed as Calum put you back on earth, and your arms wrapped themselves around his neck. “You won!”

“I-I can’t believe it!” Calum lifted you up again, swinging you around so you were standing on the bench, putting you at eye level. Someone was yelling for Calum in the back, no doubt passing around the championship or something like that, but he didn’t care right now. “I love you.”

You laughed and shook your head, “I love you too, Cal.” You went to step off the bench he’d swung you up on, but his hand stopped you.

“Wait, just give me a second,” You laughed as he jogged down the bench to his athletic bag and started digging around in it. You looked up at the field and saw that pretty much the entire team was staring in your direction. They were all set for their championship picture, no doubt, and Calum was holding them up, as usual.

“Cal, you need to go out with your team…” You trailed off when he came jogging back over to you, a different expression on his face. This one was more nervous than excited.

Calum took your hands in his and nodded, “I will, in a minute. There’s something I need to say to you first…” Your face was on the jumbotron at the end of the field now, and everyone was watching you and Calum. Suddenly you felt just as nervous as he looked; what could this be about? Judging by the cat calls and the whooping from his team, they knew.

“(Y/n) I love you, I always have. You’re my light at the end of the tunnel, my sunshine on a cloudy day, my reason for existing, and all those other cheesy lines from your romance novels. The point is that I wouldn’t be here without you, and I wouldn’t want to be. Without you I’m just a shell, and I know I’m not worthy of you, but for some reason you’ve stuck around all this time, and I’m not letting you go any time soon… or ever.” Calum got down on his knee, and you held back a gasp. “Will you marry me?”

Luke (Receiver): Luke ripped his helmet off his head and threw it down the tunnel, listening to the cracking and clattering as it crashed into the far wall. Luke slumped back against the wall and buried his face in his hands, trying to stem the tears in his eyes and the disappointment in his heart.

He could hear the whooping and the cheers out on the field from the other tea, and the grumbling and yelling from his teammates in the locker room. He’d disappointed everyone today, including himself. He wanted to rewind the clock, go back, catch the perfect spiral, win the game; but he couldn’t. He’d already lost it; it had already been intercepted and run back for the other team’s winning touchdown.  He couldn’t undo any of it.

Luke never wanted to leave this hallway. He’d let everyone down, his coach, his team, his school, his fans, but most importantly he’d let you down. You had flown in for this game specifically to watch him. This was the first time you’d seen him play in college, and he’d screwed it all up.

“Luke?” Luke knew that voice anywhere. As much as he loved that voice, he didn’t want to hear it right now. He didn’t want to look up and see the disappointment, the shame. He’d let down the most important person in his life. “Luke!” The voice called again, but didn’t acknowledge it.

Luke didn’t look up until a pair of shoes came into view in front of his bent legs. When he saw the oh-so familiar pair of flats in front of him, he looked up, “(Y/n)…” There were tears in his eyes that he couldn’t hold back anymore.

You sat down between his raised legs and rested your hands on his knees, “Babe, why are you sad? What’s wrong?”

Luke looked down in shame and shook his head, “I lost… You finally had time to come to a game, and I screwed it all up. I’m so sorry; I let you down. I let everyone down.”

“Lucas Robert Hemmings,” You cupped his face in your hands and forced him to look up at you. “What on earth gave you the idea that I, or anyone else, was disappointed in you?” Your thumb stroked over his cheek, trying to comfort him.

“I lost, (Y/n)!” He pulled away from your hands and got to his feet, slamming his fists against the wall of the hallway.

You got to your feet and stood behind him, resting your hand on his sweat stained jersey. You trailed your hand down his back and slowly slid it up under his jersey, feeling the tension in his muscles and slowly massaging them in your hands and feeling the tension dissipate. “They were a good team, Luke. You did your best, and I am so proud of you for doing so well… This was a team effort; you cannot put all the weight on yourself.”

Luke sighed and let go of his frustration, turning around and hugging you tight in his arms, “I love you.”

Michael (Running Back): “Hey Michael,” You called out into the apartment, struggling to balance a large paper bag full of groceries on your hip. You had gotten paid yesterday, and you finally had the money to go to the grocery store.

“Coming!” Michael jumped up from the couch and came over to you, picking up the bag from your arms, “Somebody had a shopping day.” Michael joked, hefting the bag into his arms and carrying it towards the tiny kitchen.

You rolled your eyes and shoved your purse off your shoulder and onto the ground. “Don’t even joke like that… What have you been doing all day anyways?”

Michael set the bag down on the counter and looked back at you, shrugging, “Studying game footage, looking at some new plays, the usual. We beat the last team, but I’m worried about next week. They’re stronger this year, and they’ll be a lot more of a challenge.”

You nodded and leaned back against the counter, listening to Michael rambling on about statistics and match ups. You couldn’t help but laugh as he went on and on about the game and how he expected it to go.

Michael got so passionate when he talked about the things he loved, and you always loved watching it. “Michael, babe,” You cut in for a second with a wide smile, “Keep talking, but I’m gonna start dinner.” You walked past him and turned on the stove, pulling out a pan to heat and starting to put away the groceries.

Michael nodded and kept rambling, “So they’ve got a really tight defensive line. I don’t know how much luck I’m going to have running up the middle.” You pulled out a tray of chicken and started cutting them down to size and put them in the pan to sear.

You turned the chicken over in the pan and pulled out some seasoning and potatoes from the new groceries.  “What about the outside?” You’d picked up some of the football lingo from dating Michael so long, and even though you occasionally had trouble understanding the details of the game, you did know enough to have a conversation about his specific position.

“They’re pretty fast. It’s going to take a lot of effort, but I can try.” Michael picked up the potatoes from beside the stove and started washing them for you. “Do you want these mashed or baked?” He laid them out on a towel while you looked over the chicken.

You opened the door to the oven and turned up the temperature. “I was just going to bake them… I was watching ESPN earlier, and they seem to think you’ll do really well against them.”

Michael put the potatoes in the oven and wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. “And what do you think?”

You turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I think that you are incredibly talented, and that if you set your mind to it you can kick anyone’s ass on or off that field.” You leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, pulling back and returning the bright smile he was already giving you.