𝐝𝐲𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ✰

baseball fights||dylan

"are you ready!?" dylan almost screamed as he jumped up and down.

for his birthday, i bought him two tickets to the mets, his fav baseball team, and he was more than ecstatic. currently, he had that huge grin on his face, his dark brown eyes as wide as lollipops, and he was jumping up and down like a little boy.

i laughed at him and nodded. he busted out the door.

we hopped in the car, and after dylan excessively thanking me for his gift, we drove off to the game. i swear every minute that boy asked if we were almost there yet.

~~

when we got there, dylan practically jumped out of the car when i was still driving. i slowly walked up to the stadium, testing his patience. he groaned and motioned to me to hurry up and catch up to him, i shook my head, trying to hide my smile, and continued to trudge. this resulting in him finally dragging me in and me having a fit of giggles.

we got some burgers and fries and headed to our seats.

"so, you think they're gonna win?" i ask, looking up at my still frazzled boyfriend.

"against the cubs, heck yeah!" he exclaimed, drawing a few heads to turn and my face to turn pink.

"okay dylan." i mutter shaking my head.

his expression turns confused, "what? you don't think they'll win?" he says, slight defense in his voice.

i smirk, "i'm just saying, the cubs have
slammed them a couple times..." i almost start laughing, but catch myself.

his face turns shocked as he takes in my doubt, "excuse me!" he says, slightly smiling, but mostly mad, "so you don't think they'll win." he admits for me, and i start laughing. he playfully punches me in the arm, making me giggle more.

"you have a nerve, y/n y/l/n."

"i love you dylan obrien." you say stuffing your mouth with salty fries. you loved testing him.

he leans over and kisses your cheek making you blush. you look out on the field and watch as the players take their places. you glance at dylan notice he's staring at you.

"what!?" you say through your fries, shrugging.

"you're gonna go down, y/n." he shakes his head and mutters just loud enough for you to hear as he swallows a huge piece of his hamburger. you smirk and keep an eye on the scoreboard.

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