#(well wasn't it like he missed it already by spraining his ankle the very same day?)
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batri-jopa · 2 years ago
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Act like a hard working, tough and reasonable young man:
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Fall asleep on the ground waiting for your lover
Maurice (1987) dir. James Ivory / And Then We Danced (2019) dir. Levan Akin
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starkcanvas · 1 year ago
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OMORI: Full Moon AU
Full Moon is an Omori AU that’s in place of that “Wolfwalker AU” I had an idea for but couldn’t go anywhere with. This is gonna get long so be prepared for a LONG info and AU lore dump lmao
For AU context, this AU takes place in basically the same canon, it’s just that Werewolves exist and live along side humans. Them being referred to as “Werefolk” when in their humans forms. There’s Pure Bloods- natural born Werefolk- and Turned Bloods, humans who were bitten and turned into one.
But as for the story of Full Moon in terms of OMORI, it’s the same as canon. Sunny throws his violin down the stairs, breaks it, and Mari starts yelling at him. But as she yells, it slowly reached the point to where instead of Sunny snapping and pushing her, he breaks down on the spot and just sobs which takes Mari off guard. And as he’s crying, he admits everything he’s been feeling in the past few months leading up to the recital.
Mari is taken back by this and starts almost crying too as she’s just utterly disgusted and disappointed with herself for even treat her precious baby brother the way she did. Her mumbling dozens of apologies before running off herself into the woods behind the treehouse and staying out till dark. It being a Full Moon that night…
As she finishes her self-reflection and attempts to go back home, she catches eyes with a very large werewolf in the woods. Now in this AU, Mr. Jin Suzuki, is an ass here too. He’s very “Werephobic” and for most of Mari and Sunny’s lives, he’s been feeding them a lot of bad and untrue information about Werefolk. This includes wrong things to do when encountering a Werewolf during their full moon.
SO Mari ends up running away from the wolf which you should never do with any canine animal. In this context, it prompts the Werewolf's instincts to slightly spike and makes it chase after her, pin her to the ground and bite her. (Mari also being pinned in a strange way that causes her to sprain her ankle upon landing)
Her adrenaline during the situation as well as the pain of her bite and ankle causing her to faint/black out. The bite effecting her blood stream due to it breaking her skin. But a moment later, the Werewolf realizes what he's done and in order to try and fix his mistake, he carries her onto his back at takes her back to his cabin deep in the woods that's just on the outskirts of Faraway in hopes that his loved one could possible treat the wound before she turns.
And in this AU, the couple is question is obviously Klaus and Del lol Klaus being the Werewolf here and being a Pure Blood while Del is human. But Klaus takes Mari back home, hoping Del would be able to help in some way but sadly Klaus wasn't fast enough and her bloodstream had already been effected due to how big the bite on her shoulder/neck is. But he still treats it and bandages her to prevent any kind of infection.
But the next morning when Mari wakes up, the two fill her in on just what happened. Klaus immediately apologizing for biting her as he never meant to hurt her. He didn't even think anyone would've been in the woods that late into the night lmao
While giving his apolgies, he tells her that after some talking, him and Del agreed that they'd hone up for the incident by letting Mari stay with them for however long she likes while Klaus teaches her how to be a Werewolf and how to control and live with her new powers/abilities.
At first, Mari was unsure but then when remembering how her dad was AND then her fight with Sunny last night, she then thinks it's for the best that she... stays away from her friends and family. Especially since she's now seen first hand that Werefolk aren't "cold-hearted" or "merciless" like her Father had told her all her life.
So Mari stays with them for the next 4 years instead. This AU having the mask of Mari having gone "missing" rather than dying. Now have some drawings I've done over the past couple weeks or so.
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xpeachesncream · 4 years ago
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it takes two | one shot (myg)
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summary: min yoongi was the one who came to understand you and took you for you. but, when boundaries start getting crossed and priorities begin to change, you start to question if your relationship with your bestfriend is strong enough to make it through.
pairing: athlete!reader x athlete!myg
genre: bestfriends to lovers au, basketball au | fluff, angst, smut
words: 12.3k
warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, protected AND unprotected sex (later on), slight breast play, oral (f. receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, missionary, riding/straddling, mentions of alcohol consumption, dancing, mention of marijuana, sex on the beach kinda?, some heavy angst, insecurities, crying, injuries (like a cut/ankle sprain), yoongi is just kind of an idiot at one point
note: heavily inspired by the movie love and basketball. unedited for the most part, pls excuse any spelling/grammar errors.
tags: @ggukkieland​ @miinoongi​ @bluesharksandfish​ @unicornbabylover​
⏏︎ now playing: triggered - jhené aiko ; sorry enough - chris brown
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First Quarter: 6th Grade
You didn't really have a lot of friends in elementary school. Any, actually. Hell, the girls in your class purposely ignored you because you acted different. Dressed different. Enjoyed the shit boys liked, like playing ball and video games. You couldn't relate to their gel pens, Lisa Frank folders, cute binder stickers and bracelet charms. None of that shit was you. But you didn't care, you were fine by yourself. Nobody to please, nobody to care for.
The only person that came to understand you was Min Yoongi and that's because you played basketball with him and his friends during daycare. At first, it came as a surprise because truthfully, you felt like Yoongi only let you play because he felt bad for you. Which, okay, whatever— so be it. But, after the last round during a game of two versus two, you found yourself on the ground, huge gash on the knee from chasing after the ball before it could go out of bounds.
"Ouch! Crap!" You groaned as you sat up and checked out your knee. Yoongi walks towards you and crouches down, examining the bloody gash.
"Come on." He says, holding out a hand to help lift you up. He swings your arm over his shoulder, already knowing that any sudden movements to your knee can make the wound sting. He takes his time and walks with you as you hop on one leg towards the office, not really saying much. Yoongi wasn't the most talkative in class. He hung out with two or three other boys in your class on the daily, but they were quiet. Weren't much troublemakers, didn't cause ruckus like the other boys did. But, he was still popular among the girls because he was a little cutiepie. You remember walking into the bathroom, hearing Angie and her friends tease her about her crush on Yoongi. Then, the following week, one of her friends also ended up crushing on Yoongi and they bickered [weirdly] in the bathroom about it.
Getting to the office, he sits you down on the bench before approaching the office admin to grab some bandaids and ice for you.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Min?" Mrs. Yao comes over to greet him.
"Y/N's hurt. Can I get a bag of ice and a bandaid for her, please?" Mrs. Yao looks over her shoulder and does a head tilt before sighing. She knew you weren't like the girls in your class, always getting hurt one way or another, being more hardheaded and stubborn than the usual. She grabs a bag of ice and hands the supplies over to Yoongi before placing her hands on her hips.
"You think you can take care of Miss Y/N, or do you need me to help?" He shakes his head.
"I got it, thank you Mrs. Yao." He politely says, giving her a small toothless smile. You silently watch as he walks over, crouching down once again to tend to your wounds. "I don't think this will hurt, but stay still so I can put this bandaid on." He says softly as he spreads the small Neosporin packet across your wound. He wipes his finger down on his pants before removing the back of the bandaid and pressing it against your knee. "There. You should keep the ice on it so it doesn't bruise and stuff." He stands.
"Thank you." He nods as he watches you stand and slightly limp before you adjust your steps to the right pressure. He follows you out, coming back to your side with his hands in his pockets.
"Why don't you act like the other girls?" He asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.
"What? Not liking all the girly stuff that they like?"
"Sure, or you playing basketball. You know girls are usually like cheerleaders and cheer the guys on instead."
"Well, I don't wanna be a cheerleader. I just would rather play. What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing, it's just weird to see."
"You're weird." You snapped back.
"How am I weird?"
"You shoot weird."
"And you don't? I shoot better than you." He furrows his brows.
"No you don't."
"Fine, wanna play one more time? Unless you're a wuss and can't play cause of your knee." You rolled your eyes at the sudden change of events.
"I'll play you, I'm not a wuss. Unless you're afraid to lose to a girl." You taunt him as you both walk back to the court.
"Whatever, I'm not afraid cause I won't lose." He grabs the ball and checks it in. "My ball first."
"Sure, if you think that'll help."
And that's how Yoongi lost to you, busted knee and everything. From there, it was history. You became inseparable, Yoongi becoming a large part of your days and vice versa. His parents eventually became close to yours after the numerous times you both have been dropped off to hang out, or catching rides home after school. Yoongi lived in a nearby neighborhood, only being a good 7 minute walk, to be exact.
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Second Quarter: High School, Senior Year
In high school, it became a little different. Yoongi grew up, played varsity basketball and became a fucking jock even though he claimed he would never. Yeah, bullshit. You too, played on the girls varsity basketball team, and surprisingly, you two kept each other close. It was a blessing and a curse though, because you couldn't see your life without Yoongi. He's been there since the 6th grade. However, girls took note of that shit. Trying to use you as their way in to Yoongi's heart, or pants, or both. You made it very clear though that you weren't interested in being a fucking messenger. Girls thought you were mean, but really, they just couldn't handle you. Hence, why you really couldn't relate and be one of them.
Yoongi was still the only person who could understand you and handle you, bad attitude and all. Tomboy habits and all. Not wanting to make friends and all.
"Jesus fucking christ, the day just started." Yoongi says as he watches you toss your duffle bag and backpack aggressively in the back seat of his car. "What's your deal?"
"Nothing, I'm just tired." You slump in his passenger seat after buckling your seat belt.
"Chill, don't start your day like this."
"Whatever, dad." You rolled your eyes, causing him to let out a pathetic chuckle.
"Are you coming to my game later?"
"Yeah, if I'm not too tired from practice."
"Y/N, I always make it to your games even if I'm tired."
"Do you?"
"The fuck? Yes I do. When haven't I?" His tone raises with yours. "Don't try and justify your shit by coming up with lies."
"Yeah, yeah bighead. You'll have plenty of cheerleaders there for you."
"Yeah and?" He smirks. "You're the one I'll be looking for though." He caresses your chin, making you smack his hand away while he laughs loudly.
"You're stupid." You groan as you sink lower in his seat. The rest of the ride to school, you shut your eyes and enjoy the peace before you're having to walk down those annoying, congested hallways.
People rave a lot about senior year, but it honestly hasn't felt special to you. Maybe because you kept the same routine since freshmen year, or maybe you really just didn't care as much as everyone else did about how "special" it was. You've always been locked in to basketball even if your mom wasn't a big fan of it. She wished you were more into cute, girly shit, like makeup, shopping, manis and pedis and dresses and heels, but she came to accept this was the way it was going to be. Especially because your dad was your biggest fan. You came to love basketball, more than just a side hobby. You joined the varsity team and practiced day in and day out. When basketball wasn't in season, you'd play with Yoongi at the park or sign up for camps and tournaments. You just wanted to keep bettering yourself so that you could play in college and get into the league post-grad. Yoongi was the same, and he may or may not have influenced your passion for ball. Either way, he was always supporting you and cheering for you even if the other females hated it.
His ex for sure hated the relationship you had with him even though you really steered clear when she was around. Wasn't your fucking problem or responsibility to take care of her insecurities. Same with his flings.
"Hey, so later, yeah?" He asks in between throwing nods and smiles to girls passing by.
"Mhm." You hum. "You gonna be free for lunch later?"
"I don't know. I know where to find you though if I am."
"Have a good day, punk."
"You too, bub. See you in English." He turns on his heel, walking towards his friends, aka his team members. Aka his jock ass group. Aka the ones females flock to.
Namjoon, Jimin, Eunwoo, Lucas.
They were all pretty boys who knew they were pretty boys and used that to their advantage to make big asshole moves. You hated that Yoonks got pulled in from time to time, but shit, it wasn't your life, you were only a small part of his. Sometimes, they also pulled in the football boys, Jungkook and Seokjin. Even the baseball boys, Hoseok and Taehyung. It was all a huge pretty boy, jock, asshole group in the making outside. A big fucking party for a lot of the girls at school, though.
So even if Yoongi was really the only one in your life, you weren't the only one in his. It is, what it is. As long as he doesn't go switching up on you, then whatever, so be it.
The first half of your classes go by quick, being that you enjoyed your chemistry, french and english classes. You had your english class with Yoongi, Namjoon and Hoseok. You had gotten to know Namjoon and Hoseok a little through it, and it was enough to know that they weren't all that bad. At least in this classroom setting.
"You two going to prom together?" Namjoon asks, making Yoongi snort.
"No, what the hell?" Yoongi responds.
"You guys can have fun at prom." You roll your eyes.
"You're really not gonna go?" Joon bites on the end of his pencil.
"No? The fuck I look like?"
"Y/N, I know it'd be weird as fuck to see you in a dress, but it's senior year. You didn't go last year, did you?" Namjoon asks from Yoongi's other side.
"Really, Namjoon?" You give him a look as if it could state the obvious.
"Well shit, I don't know. I know it's not your thing but can't really say I would have noticed either way." Hoseok laughs, causing you to throw your pen at his head before flicking him off.
"Miss Y/N!" Mrs. Maxwell calls you out mid-movie, eyes wide and in disbelief at how you're acting.
"What?! He started it." You slumped back in your seat and let out a sigh.
"Not another word." She says sternly.
"Not another word." You mock her under your breath.
"Aye, stop. You and that attitude boutta get in some trouble the last weeks of senior year." Yoongi puts his hand on your wrist, causing you to shake your head and click your teeth.
"Anyway, you should go." Hoseok whispers as he leans over on the table to look at you.
"No. Besides, with what date?"
"Take the basketball." Joon snickers.
"You're a complete dumbass, Namjoon. Stop talking." You snap.
"Maybe they're right, bub. It's senior year and it's coming to an end quick. I'd hate for you to regret it." Yoongi turns to you and says lowly.
"You know that won't happen." But really, part of you did feel a little bad. You knew it wasn't your scene, and you really didn't care what people thought of you when it came down to it. However, you always wondered what it would be like if someone liked you. If someone wanted you. Crushed on you so hard that they couldn't keep their hands off of you, couldn't stop thinking of you. Your first love. To feel pleasure, pain. Mixture of emotions simply by being in love. You wondered what it would be like to lose your virginity and have good, good sex. Besides, you were a human with needs. But the only person you have ever been close to was Yoongi. For the most part, you didn't see him that way because you knew he definitely didn't. But, you also couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to take your relationship to that point. If it was anyone, he would be the one you'd have feelings for. He would be your first kiss, your first everything. Because Yoongi was comfort and security for you.
But you valued your friendship more than anything.
"Just saying, think about it." He follows up.
"Think about getting an expensive dress and painful ass heals to wear for one night, just to dance around in 'em and take one professional pic with a date? Maybe get railed if I'm lucky?" You playfully wiggle your eyebrows making Yoongi shake his head.
"Don't be such a party pooper for once."
"Mmm. Great reasoning. Really convincing me here." You laugh it off even though in all honesty, you were thinking about it.
The bell rings and thank god it's finally lunch because you were fucking starving. Appetite and attitude on na-na, no doubt. You silently part ways with Yoongi to stop by your locker and grab your lunch. You make your way to the rowdy ass cafeteria, quickly scanning the room to catch a sight of Yoongi. You see him sitting on top of one of the lunch tables with Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung sitting around him. Clearly, Yoongi wasn't free today.
"Wassup baby? Wanna trade that ball in for me?" Jimin says as you pass by their table to make your way outside to the bleachers. You flick him off before rolling your eyes and pretending to gag.
"Fuck off, Park." The group laughs except for Yoongi.
"Wonder if she's got that bad attitude in bed, too." Yoongi doesn't hesitate to smack Jimin upside the head because yeah, no matter what, he was gonna protect you as much as possible. "Owwww, I'm just kidding Yoongi."
"Don't let me hear you say that shit around me ever again."
"Fuck, I'm sorry. It was just a joke." Jimin winces as he rubs the back of his head.
"Damn Min Yoonks, why don't you take her ass to prom if it's like that?" Taehyung says, chewed up food coming into full view as he smacks loudly.
"Why don't you learn how to close your mouth first?" Yoongi spits back.
"Y/N is really rubbing off on you."
"It's manners, idiot. You should've been learned that." Namjoon says, laughing.
"But foreel, why won't you take her? You both are close, you've never seen her that way?" Hoseok asks making Yoongi shake his head in response.
"She's my bestfriend. I value her just the way she is, no more no less."
"Ah, you must have thought about it at least once." Yoongi keeps silent. Luckily, the group easily gets distracted and starts paying attention to Seokjin and Jungkook coming over as they talk about the dates they've scored for prom.
Yoongi has thought about it. Still does. Just like he is for you, you're the only one who understands him and takes him for who he is. You know the real him besides basketball player Yoongi. You're the only one who keeps it real. But he would rather keep it this way than ruin things between you and him. He'd hate to fuck up with you because he knows he can fuck up, there's no hiding from it. He'd never forgive himself if he lost you.
Practice is hell today for you and fuck, you really wanna just go home and lay down for the rest of the evening. Coach had you all running suicides and conditioning drills on the courts outside and pulling scrimmages against each other left and right. Let's not forget how coach is always on your ass right before a game too. Hell, she catches an attitude way worse than you before game time and after a loss. You wanted to avoid that at all costs. But, to avoid taking the bus home and instead hitching a ride with Yoongi, you throw on a hoodie and haul your ass to the gym in some nike slippers. You take a seat on a free end at one of the bleachers, holding Spalding in between your legs with your duffle next to you on the floor. The game is off to a start in about 5 minutes, Yoongi catches sight of you on the bleachers and nods. You give him a small smile as a gesture of good luck, which he reciprocates.
The game starts off intensely, both teams scoring closely even with the boys putting straight pressure. Towards the end of the first half, Yoongi and Eunwoo are the leading scorers, putting their team up by 10. Halftime is a bunch of hoo-haa, with cheerleaders in their itty bitty skirts, trying to shake their asses as they cheer for the boys. The boys don't even hide the fact that their ogling, and it's clear as day they all want some pussy. Quite frankly, they walk around thinking they deserve it cause of how hard they try to pull some wins and put the school on the map. Student government comes up for a bit too, pulling some kind of skit to weirdly promote prom. It makes you cringe and in all honesty, it makes you not wanna go even more, but it is your senior year. If you can snag a date, then maybe.
"Hey." Terra [not a cheerleader but still a pretty, popular chick] plops next to you with a smirk on her face. Immediately, you want no part in it because you already know what she's trying to do.
"Hi?"
"I'm just gonna cut straight to it. Do you know if Yoongi is seeing anyone?"
"How the hell would I know, Terra?" You furrow your brows at her.
"Because you're close to him, aren't you?"
"And? Doesn't mean I'm telling people his business. Besides, he's not obligated to tell me everything just cause we're close." She rolls her eyes.
"Whatever. Look, can you do me a favor and give this to him?" She tries handing you a little ass piece of paper folded neatly with a pink heart decorated on the front.
"Why don't you give it to him yourself?"
"That's no fun." You scoff and roll your eyes. Really, miss girl? "Be a doll for once, yeah?" She winks and slips the note in between your wrist and Spalding so it stays put. You take the note and eye it, letting out a deep sigh as you shove it into your pocket. You weren't in the mood to be extra rude today so you'll give it to him later when he drives you home.
The game finally finishes with Yoongi making a final three, the boys keeping their lead up by 10. Everyone cheers and showers the boys with love after the team has finished shaking hands and high-fiving their opponents. You stick around until the crowd dies down, watching Yoongi flirt with Terra as you swing your duffle bag strap onto your shoulder before slowly heading down the bleachers.
"Hey bighead, good game today." You lightly punch him against the chest.
"I knew you'd come."
"Shut up. I'll be at your car."
"For what?"
"Cause you're taking me home, punk."
"No please?"
"Please." He shakes his head and chuckles before you part ways to let him gather his things in the locker room. When you finally catch sight of his teeny head coming towards you from the gym, you hear him unlock his car to let you in while he continues to walk over.
"Fuuuuuck." He says, throwing his things in the back before buckling his seat belt and switching the gear into drive.
"You have fan mail." Yoongi looks over and sees you clutching the note Terra gave you.
"What's that, a condom?"
"You're sick. It's from Terra."
"Who's that again?" You make a face at him.
"You were just telling her sweet nothings earlier after the game?"
"Oh, Terra with the tig o' bitties. Got it." He shakes his head. "I wasn't telling her sweet nothings."
"Right. You're an absolute dipshit, you know?" You prop up a leg on the seat while you unfold the letter.
"Give it!" You move it away from his grasp and begin to read it out loud.
"Yoongi, you're honestly so hot. If you don't have a date for prom, I just want you to know that I'm free, and I promise I'll give you a good time if you take me." You cackle. "Boy, what the fuck is this? Ew."
"Shut up." He blushes before laughing along with you.
"Look at her, writing her coochie out on paper."
"She isn't."
"Oh, really? Pfft." You softly scoff. "So, are you taking her or what?"
"I don't know? Maybe, damn. What about you?"
"What about me, fool? I told you I'd think about it."
"Go with Jimin. He still doesn't have a date." He hates to say it with how much of an asshole Jimin can be, but if it meant you'd be at your senior prom then Yoongi will let it pass. He'll make sure Jimin doesn't try any slick shit.
"Ew, god no."
"Look, I'll make sure he doesn't go overboard. I promise."
"Why do you want me there so badly, Yoongi?"
"Because it's our last year in high school together and I'd really like to celebrate with you somehow." You sigh heavily.
"Fair enough. Let me sit on it."
"Better hurry and stop keeping that seat warm."
"Don't rush me." You punch his arm, causing a groan to erupt from him.
- - -
Really, you'd rather be anywhere than at prom with Park Jimin holding onto your waist the way he is for the pictures you're taking with him, Yoongi and the rest of their group and dates. After all the pictures and fake smiles, you feel him slowly slip his hand down your dress to try and get a grip on your ass, but before you could do so, you're grabbing his wrist with full pressure and making him wince.
"Don't you fucking dare or else I'll cut your dick off and throw it in a blender."
"Aish, ah, fuck! Okay, I'm kidding, let me go!" He whines lowly. You let go of his wrist after one more good squeeze, causing him to wiggle his hand to get the feeling back.
"Get me some punch, will you? My mouth is dry."
"You know, I might know something else that can help." Jimin wiggles his eyebrows as he continues to hold onto his wrist.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me."
"Or not. I'll be back." He accepts defeat by smiling from ear to ear before walking off. You sit off to the side, the heels a huge pain in the ass on top of Jimin already being a huge pain in the ass. You lean over on your knees, completely forgetting you have a short dress on, causing boys passing by to whistle and eye at the easy access.
"The fuck are you looking at? Keep it moving." Yoongi says pushing the guys forward before shooting you a look. "Y/N, really?"
"Shit sorry, I forgot. I'm not used to this." You sit up and adjust your dress before rubbing your arms at how self-conscious you suddenly [and unexpectedly] feel.
"Are you having fun at least?" He sits next to you, manspreading on the seat in the navy suit he has on.
"Mmm, sure." You slightly smile at him. "What about you? You actually took Terra, huh?"
"Yeah, it's pretty fun." He chuckles. "Don't lie, I saw you dancing a bit earlier."
"That's when the alcohol hadn't worn off yet." You snort, remembering Seokjin's older brother giving the group alcohol after all the parents were done taking their pictures of you all. Yoongi laughs along with you before he looks over and simply stares at you, hair all done, makeup done perfectly without it being too much. You in a dress.
"You look beautiful tonight, bub."
"You don't look too bad yourself, bubby." You blush before Jimin interrupts the moment with your cup of punch.
"Here, princess."
"You better not be trying anything slick, punkass." Yoongi says.
"Mm, don't worry. I haven't been able to." You kick his shin as you chug your punch, causing him to cough and choke on his own words. "I'd like to peacefully have this slow dance with you at least, damn." You swallow the last bits of punch before you're taking Jimin's hand to the floor. Yoongi watches as you two make your way to the dance floor for a slow dance, slightly regretting that he didn't just ask you to dance.
"Let's dance, babe." Terra's baby voice comes out as she pulls him up from the seat to find a spot on the dance floor. Yoongi is honestly tired of having to keep up with Terra's energy and her clingy ass, but nonetheless, he was happy you were around for prom.
He was really happy you were around for prom, even though you hated this shit more than anything.
He had you in full view ahead, and so did you. He couldn't help but direct his attention towards you and keep his eyes on you. Fuck, he has never seen anyone so beautiful until you walked through Seokjin's doors with Jimin. Look, let's get this straight. Even though you had your own way of expressing yourself, he always loved your natural beauty, your natural glow. He loved watching you on the court and how happy it made you to play ball. He remembers every accomplishment, every milestone you've reached. How you've grown tremendously as a ball player. He would never admit it to you in person, but he definitely admires how you push yourself and how you always do what you can to improve. Hell, you might just be the better player between the both of you. And when you catch him looking over, he doesn't even try and hide it. He doesn't even care that he's still holding onto Terra and slow dancing with her.
Something within you flips. You feel that shit in the pit of your stomach, at the heat of your core.
But, you brush it off and break eye contact first, even if he doesn't stop staring. This couldn't happen, no. This was your bestfriend. You weren't gonna let the things you felt get in the way of that.
Nope.
Suddenly, the song changes to something more upbeat and twerkable, Jimin taking the opportunity to spin you around and grind on you. You really need a distraction anyway, something to rid you of those god awful thoughts about your bestfriend, so you let him and you have fun with it. Everyone around you is having fun anyway, and fuck, you wouldn't have to do this ever again so fuck it.
"Let me get a dance with my bestfriend." Yoongi says to Jimin.
"Go dance with your date!"
"Shut up and switch for a second!" Yoongi says, pushing him off of you so he could get behind and dance with you.
"Yoonks, what the hell?" You laugh.
"Go with it, bub. It's fucking senior year, we're graduating soon." You go with his movements, having the time of your life with everyone around you as prom quickly comes to a close.
When you get into Jimin's car, you knock off your heels as he continues to talk nonstop about the night. Jimin was a cutie but god, you could not stand his mindset for the life of you. You were grateful he had agreed to take you to prom, but damn. Prom was done and all you wanted was some peace and quiet.
"I hope you had fun with me tonight." You give him a toothless smile before slipping your heels back on.
"I did, thank you for taking me. Really." He smiles from ear to ear before leaning over near your seat.
"Can I get just one good smooch for the night?" You look at him before you smirk and lean over near his lips.
"Sure." You whisper.
"Oh fuck, this is actually happening."
"Close your eyes, I know you don't fucking kiss with your eyes open. What are you doing?"
"Right. Sorry." He closes his eyes and puckers his lips. You lean in a little closer, feeling his breath against your lips.
Then you flick his nose.
"Ouch!"
"Peace out, Park." You throw open his door to step out and shut it behind you to quietly walk into your house.
The lights are off and your parents are already tucked into the room for the night, leaving you a note on the fridge reminding you to make sure all the doors are locked before retreating to your room. You do as you're reminded before quietly shutting your door and tossing your heels to the side. You let the pins down from your hair, ruffling it around a bit and relieving any pressure on your head. Before turning away from your dresser, you notice a letter from the one university you had been waiting on. You had been waiting to hear back from Stanford for the longest time, and quite frankly, you had been upset you hadn't heard especially when their scouts were at your game awhile ago.
You had broken down to your parents, to Yoongi, automatically assuming the worst when you heard that other people had already been accepted and scouted for Stanford. Suddenly, you found yourself working harder and harder because you felt like you were lacking in so many areas. You felt low, and like your dream was running miles and miles away from you. Faster than you could keep up.
You take the letter in your hand, but don't want to open it because you don't feel ballsy enough [surprisingly]. You call up Yoongi, not caring that he could possibly be in the middle of getting his dick wet.
"Sup?"
"Are you busy?"
"I was just about to walk into my house."
"Oh, nevermind."
"Need me to come by?"
"I got a letter from Stanford."
"Shit, I'll be there in 2 mins."
And in 2 minutes, he surely was knocking at your window. You slide it up enough for him to climb in, Yoongi still in his prom get-up as well.
"Here." You instantly hand him the letter.
"What, why me? It should be you."
"I can't, I really can't." He sighs.
"Are you sure you won't regret this?"
"No, bub. Please." You sit on the bed and fiddle with your fingers as you watch him rip the envelope open and tear out the letter. You can't even keep your eyes on him as he reads the letter and starts backing away from you.
"Shit."
"What? What?!" You stand, trying your best to keep your tone low. He covers his mouth, causing you to pinch his bicep at how dramatic he was being. "Just say it!"
"You're not going." Your heart sinks, but before you could process it, Yoongi speaks up again. "To any other college because Stanford wants you."
"I'm going to fucking kill you!" You whisper and shove him.
"Congrats, bubby. Guess we'll be together in college too." Your eyes widen.
"Y-you're going? T-to Stanford?" He smiles and nods.
"Yeah, I am."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Look, I just wanted to give you your space. That's all. I found out before you went all cry baby on me."
"Shut up." You say before laughing and jumping into his arms, throwing your legs around his torso while he swings you around. As he sets you back down onto your bedroom floor, your hands linger around his neck, gently tugging on the hair that rested there. He keeps you close, his hands resting around your waist as your chests are still touching. You honestly have no idea what takes over you— perhaps all the feelings you felt tonight at prom taking over, or feeling overjoyed from finally hearing back from Stanford, you couldn't decide. But you crash your lips against his, immediately pulling back after you realized you've just kissed your bestfriend.
You just had your first fucking kiss through accidental causes.
Well, shit.
Was it accidental or no?
Mind is going off on a tangent.
"Woah. I'm so sorry, Yoonks, I—" He doesn't allow for any space between you two, keeping your body flush against his as his lips crash onto yours again to cut you off. To be quite honest, things are moving fast and the kiss deepens quick. You follow his motions, gaining some rhythm as your tongue dances along with his in the [now] wet, sloppy kiss.
"Wait, Y/N." He pulls away as the moment intensifies. "A-are you sure you wanna keep going? To be honest, I don't know if I'll be able to hold myself back and I know you haven't exactly—" He knows it would be your first time and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. I mean, sure, he loved you. You were special to him. But he wanted to make sure your first time was also special, whether it be him or whoever else.
"Please. I want this. I wanna do this with you."
By the looks of tonight, it seems like it's meant to be him.
You press your lips back onto his with the same intensity and start to unbutton his shirt when you feel his hands hike up your dress. He gently pushes you on the bed, crawling over to you as he kicks off his shoes and finishes ripping off his shirt and tie. He slowly removes the straps of your dress down your shoulders and undoes the zipper on the side before slipping it down and leave you in your panties.
You had no bra on.
Yoongi's eyes widen when he realizes such, your cheeks heating up while you watch him stare down your body. You begin to feel incredibly self-conscious so you cover your chest with an arm. Yoongi senses your uneasiness, your confidence shooting down below zero.
"You're beautiful, bub. Don't." He says, gently tugging your arm away and letting it fall limply to the side. You simply nod and let him take the reigns because you had no idea what the fuck you were doing. So many emotions were flooding your mind— you were nervous, you were scared, you were shy, you felt lost and too innocent under Yoongi, even if he knew you like the back of his hand.
And because of that, he could pick up on it with the way your body continued to tense up. He shook off his pants, leaving on his boxers until you were ready for him. Cause fuck, he was ready for you, but he had to take this slow. He had to take care of you.
He lowers himself onto you after the two of you have climbed under the sheets, lowering his head against your neck to press light, feathery kisses along the surface. You felt the tingles shoot down your spine every time his lips made contact, causing you to softly gasp and arch your back at how sensitive you were already feeling.
"If you ever feel uncomfortable, just tell me to stop okay?" He says lowly. You nod in response, Yoongi taking it as leverage to plant a kiss on your lips before moving down to your breasts. He keeps his eyes on you, making sure you don't seem uncomfortable in the slightest bit. But you don't, and it's indicated in the way you bite your bottom lip and arch your back at the way his tongue wraps around your hardened bud. He does the same on the other breast before peppering kisses down your stomach and abdomen.
"Yoongi." You slightly gasp, shy at how unusually close he is to your lady friend.
"What's wrong? Want me to stop?" His thumbs gently caressed your thighs as his head hovered over your pelvis. You shake your head and nervously swallow before speaking once more.
"I-I'm just scared, what if you don't like—"
"Shh." He shushes you. "You're everything to me, you know that. You don't have to change just so I could enjoy you in bed. I'll take good care of you, bub. I promise."
"O-okay." He nods, placing a kiss over your clothed clit before pulling them down to get lost within your sheets. He swipes a finger down your folds, causing your breathing to hitch slightly. You watch as he slowly inserts the same digit inside of you, biting onto his bottom lip watching your facial expressions turn from uncertainty to straight pleasure. "Another." You moan.
"You sure?"
"Yes, please." He inserts another digit, curling his fingers upward as he starts to finger fuck you at a steady pace.
"Shit, you're so wet Y/N." He says lowly before lowering his mouth onto you to get a taste and tease your clit. You gasp at the overwhelming sensation, feeling the pleasure bubbling in your core and you had no idea how to deal with it. He picks up his pace while tonguing your clit and sucking at the right pressure until suddenly, you short circuit and tremble under his grip. You purse your lips together to prevent yourself from moaning too loud with your parents at the other end of the hall [jesus fucking christ], knuckles turning white as you grip the sheets tightly.
Your first orgasm came and washed over you quick.
"Did you just—" He removes his digits from inside of you, drooling at your cum accumulating all over his fingers.
"Holy fuck." You whisper as you regulate your breathing, twitching when Yoongi places a quick kiss on your pussy before coming back up to you.
"How was that?"
"So good. Wanna feel you." You whine, tugging him down towards you.
"I got you, bubby." He says, kissing your jaw, cheek, nose and lips. He reaches over into his pants on the floor, grabbing a condom out of his pocket. You furrow your brow and chuckle, confused if this was something he always did.
"You just carry that around?"
"The guys and I split on a box and carried one each for tonight. Just in case."
"Total fucking assholes." He chuckles.
"Better safe than not, right?" He rips it open with his teeth, spitting the wrapper out onto the floor before rolling it down his cock. He was perfectly thick and long, and it made you a nervous wreck all over again thinking about how this could feel. "Ready? I'll go slow." You nod. You immediately felt immense pressure when you felt Yoongi dip his body and slowly enter you. You winced, Yoongi immediately pausing until you tapped his arm to continue. And so he does, and you continue to breathe through it until he bottoms out and lets out a soft groan against your neck. "Fuck, you're so tight bub. God, you're gonna make me cum quick." He slowly pumps in and out, steadying his pace when he feels you buck your hips up to go along with his motions.
The pleasure skyrocketed; You shut your eyes, letting yourself be in this moment. Feel this moment.
He picks it up a little faster, careful not to bang your headboard against the wall. His forehead is pressed against yours, watching as you let out soft whimpers against his lips.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yoongi-Yoongi—" You whispered. "You're gonna make me—" It was becoming overwhelming, your clit rubbing against him as he steadied his pace and continued to fuck into you. He nods, pressing a kiss against your forehead.
"Yeah, that's it. Let go. It's okay." And that was enough for you to reach your second orgasm tonight. Quick, but fuck. Yoongi made you feel so good, and you wouldn't want it any other way. You shut your eyes as you hurdled over the edge, mouth open with silent, inaudible moans being released. "So fucking pretty." Yoongi says as he feels himself reaching his high with the way your walls pulsated against his cock.
God. So, so good.
He holds onto the headboard and quickly fucks into you until he's spilling his seed in the condom, muffled moans being released against the crook of your neck. It takes a moment before Yoongi raises his head, your hands running through his black hair while he presses a tender kiss against your lips. He slowly removes himself, wrapping the condom in a tissue before tossing it into your trash can. He plops next to you and welcomes you into his arms, caressing you to soothe you from your first time.
"You okay?"
"More than okay." You say, the both of you trying to savor the moment before trying to navigate where to go from here.
What now?
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Third Quarter: College, Junior Year (Present)
You bent down, hands resting against your knees as you tried to catch your breath during the timeout Coach Chu had called with 5.2 seconds literally left on the clock. He laid out the play he wanted you and the team to pull off in order to gain the win over Berkeley.
It had to be executed perfectly. No flaws.
Coach Chu had been riding your ass since you were a freshman. But, over the years, you've learned how to work through his tough love and turn it into positives, bettering yourself on and off the floor. It paid off, and he saw the fire in you, finally moving you up to starting point guard right before the season ended. Some team members hated it at first, but eventually, grew to work with it as well.
The plan was to have you come down into the paint and lay up the ball or take a shot at the very last second to avoid Berkeley from getting another chance at scoring. Sometimes you hated the pressure, but you've also learned that a big part of playing ball was thriving under pressure.
Your team closes up the huddle before you and your teammates are heading back out onto the floor to try and get this win. You shake off the nerves, bouncing the ball out of bounds until you check it in with your teammate. After that— it was like a blur. Shit happened so quick, you couldn't even process it. You passed the ball and dashed over to the other side of the court while your teammate put up a screen. You rose your hand as you ran into the paint, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you awkwardly lay up the ball in the position you were in and stumble onto the ground from losing your footing. You turn your head as the buzzer went off, noticing that the ball had bounced off the rim.
You missed a fucking lay up.
How could you miss a fucking lay up?
"Fuck!" You cry as you sit up and smack the floor.
"Aye, it's all good girl! Ain't a big deal! You win some, you lose some! We still got a ways to go!" Your teammate [roommate, and closest college friend] Clarice said as she helped you up. She was right, but every loss to you was a big loss no matter what. Coach was for sure gonna drill you about this too, and you were already mentally preparing.
"Thanks." You mumble. You look out at the disappointed crowd slowly dispersing, wishing you could still catch a familiar face in the crowd.
But, Yoongi hadn't been to your game in years. So you thought. You never caught him if he ever stepped foot into your game.
Your head hung low as the familiar feeling of pain and loneliness came rushing back while you headed to the locker room. Too bad you didn't see him hiding out on the side of the bleachers with Lucas.
"Y/N, a word." Coach Chu says, leading you into his office.
Fuck, here we go.
You shut the door behind you and stand awkwardly in front of his desk, fiddling with your fingers.
"Look, I just want to say that you put on hell of a show tonight, win or lose. We still have plenty of games left, plenty of opportunities to lock in play-offs. Alright? Don't be upset."
"Thanks Coach." You give him a tiny smile.
"Are you doing okay?"
"Uh, yeah. I think so."
"What's on your mind?"
"Nothing coach, just been a hectic couple of weeks." In which, it was no lie. You crammed for test after test, project after project. You barely had any time to breathe this year.
"Well, my door is always open if you need to chat." You nod. "I'll see you at practice. Enjoy your night."
"Thanks again." You say as you exit his office and get yourself showered and into comfier clothes.
Meanwhile, Yoongi heads back to his dorm room alongside Lucas, hands dug deep into his pockets while his head hung low.
"You ever gonna talk to her?"
"I don't know." He sighs. "Pretty sure I fucked up any chance of that."
"Look, dude. You haven't really been the same since you and Y/N fell out." Yoongi stays silent as they slowly climb the steps up to their room. "Why are you just gonna leave it like this? It's been so long already. Doesn't it bother you?"
"Positive she doesn't want me around." Lucas shakes his head.
"You haven't even tried. You just gave up and that shit is cold, to be honest. I know Y/N always held it down for you, I would have expected you to do the same." The words cut through Yoongi so deep, he doesn't even know how to respond and leaves it at that.
As you heavily dragged your body back to the dorms and took your sweet ol' time, your mind began to wander back to Yoongi as well. After he had taken your virginity that night, things took a turn for the worst.
He treated you differently, created this distance that allowed you to grow farther and farther apart from each other until he was no longer in your grasp and vice versa.
You went from Yoongi being a part of your every day to nothing. And fuck, did it hurt you. You cried and cried, until you were so tired of crying. You had to pick yourself up and keep it moving no matter what. Life waits for nobody.
You reminisce on those days of debating over who could really be considered the greatest. Although, you did pay your respects to the bigs, the greats— Kobe, Magic, MJ, Lebron— you paid respect where it was rightfully due. However, Derrick Rose at his prime? Rajon Rondo? Chris Paul?
Hell, even Baron Davis, Monte Ellis. Rookie Steph Curry? Shiiit. They were it for you, and Yoongi used to dog your ass on how unrealistic you were being.
That was all gone.
He must be having a ball watching Steph climb up those charts now, though. You wonder what he would say to you.
The days of going to basketball games, to each other's basketball games, to ordering hella pizza and creating chaos in either house over the dunk contest during the NBA All Star Week or yelling all around the living room and jumping on couches during the NBA playoff season and championship games— All gone.
If you knew this would drastically change you and Yoongi, you would have never let that night happen. You continued to put on your brave face, your thick, tough skin even though deep down, it took everything in you to suppress the hurt, betrayal and confusion. Even after all these years.
He meant everything to you. Did you not to him? You could never understand until this day. How could he dispose of you so, so quickly?
You see him on campus and quickly break any eye contact, or run the opposite way. You were tired of doing this even though you felt like you needed closure. Some explanation. You deserved it. But you weren't gonna initiate that. Even if Yoongi did, you don't even know if things could ever go back to the way it was. He promised he would never hurt you, but he has. He still is hurting you. The wounds— it cut deep. Deeper than he could ever imagine.
"Hello?" You smile, hearing your dad on the other line.
"Hey dad."
"Hey baby! How was your game? I'm sorry I couldn't catch it tonight, work kept me behind." You sigh.
"Eh, it's probably good you didn't. Didn't turn out so well." He picks up on how your voice cracks ever so slightly, enough to indicate that you were trying your hardest not to break down about your performance. "I missed the winning shot."
"Oh sweetheart, you'll get 'em next time. You always do. You still have a couple of games left don't you?"
"Yeah, but it doesn't change the fact that I played shitty as hell tonight."
"There's always room for improvement, only way to go is up from here right?" He says softly, making you smile. "You'll get 'em next time, I have no doubt. You always know how to better yourself even when I think you've already reached your highest potential."
"Thanks Dad. You always were my number one fan."
"I still am." He chuckles. "How's everything else? School?"
"Fine." He always has to stop himself from asking about Yoongi, even to ask if there's been the slightest change to your relationship.
"You sure?"
"Course." You lie.
"Alright, well you know me and your mom are here for you if you need anything."
"I know."
"I'll let you go and get some rest, alright? Don't be so hard on yourself."
"Mmm, I'll try." You chuckle. "I love you."
"Love you too. And hey, baby?"
"Yeah?"
"Always remember that you deserve everything good in this world. If someone can't handle you at your worse, they sure as hell don't deserve you at your best."
"Thank you." You smile as if your dad can see you through the phone before hanging up and unlocking your dorm door.
"Sigma Nu party going on tonight, wanna come and slide through?" Clarice asks as she watches you toss your duffle aside.
"I'm tired, not in the mood."
"So aren't I, but I think we both need it. Come on girl, just for a little." You sigh. Clarice had also been there by your side since you both were freshmen recruits. One day, she came into the room and found you a crying mess, causing her to wrap her arms around you and craddle you until you calmed down. You had spilled the beans about Min Yoongi, especially when he quickly became the talk of the campus as a ladies man and one of the best freshmen recruits Stanford has ever seen. You hated it, but a part of you still found yourself happy that he was getting the recognition he deserved as a ball player.
He wasn't the tallest, or the biggest, but boy had heart and played every game like it was his last. You had been his number one fan, and even though you hated him, that fact would never change.
Anyways, without Clarice, you weren't sure where you'd be. Definitely not here because you'd be too busy running away from your past and all the issues that came with it.
Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and say it. You would be stupid enough to not go to your first choice just because of a stupid boy.
"Fine, fine. I'm leaving as soon as someone wants to start acting up and getting all crazy though."
"Deal." She chuckles. You've learned how to dress up a little more— and by a little we mean baggy sweats, a crop tight fitting tee and chapstick. No way in hell you'd get dolled up for a party. Out of the years you've already been here, you probably went to two parties. One being the party Coach Chu threw at his house for a record-breaking season. The other was a legit party that you stepped foot in for all of 2 seconds before you figured it was time to head home, especially after seeing Yoongi hugged up with some chick and disgustingly tonguing her down while groping her ass.
Shit, you were never gonna get used to it.
The frat house is fucking packed and wreaks of weed even down the corner. You and Clarice push your way through, greeting people who were acknowledging your presence and waving at your other teammates that were also present.
"More basketball babes have arrived, let's go!" One of the frat guys cheers as you and Clarice make your way to the kitchen where all the alcohol is laid out.
"One shot?" She asks as she already has her hand wrapped around the Svedka handle.
"One and done." You tell her. You shouldn't have let her pour the shot though because now, you're stuck with nasty ass vodka near the halfway mark of the cup. "Clarice, what the fuck is this?"
"It's called savoring our one."
"You're fucked up." You joked as you tap your cup against hers and take the shot in three chugs. "Really fucked up." You wince.
"Come, lets go see what the other girls are up to and hang out for a bit." You follow her lead to the corner of the living room, chatting it up with your team before dancing around in the little corner you all occupied— keeping as far away as possible from sloppy and messy dudes.
You turned to eye the crowd at some point, catching Yoongi coming down the stairs, a female following from behind holding his hand. Then, they disappear to the outside of the house. You swallow the lump in your throat, the room feeling hotter than it already was.
Why he still had this affect on you, you had no idea.
Clarice and your teammates are too busy cracking jokes that they don't realize you've slipped away to get some air. You're finding that the crowd has come bigger in the short amount of time you've been here and navigating through it has become difficult. You're having to bob, weave and shove your way out, letting out a sigh the closer you get to the front of the house. You're also really glad you've been able to steer clear from—
"Shit, my bad." You unintentionally bump into someone making your way to the front from the side of the house due to you keeping your head low.
"Y/N?" You whip your head around to see Yoongi raising a brow, dropping his arm from the same chick's shoulders.
"Hi." You give him a fake, tight-lipped smile and rush your way to the front of the house. Thank god you finally make it because you were starting to feel claustrophobic, even being outside. However, you weren't prepared for Yoongi to come after you and grab your wrist the way he did.
"Wait, I didn't expect you to be here." Out of defense, you quickly snatch your wrist away from his grip and furrow your brows at him.
"Yeah, and now I'm leaving."
"Why, hang out for a bit—"
"And what, Yoongi? Watch you be the life of the party? Watch you walk around all fine and dandy like shit never happened between us?" You feel the tears welling up on your bottom lids, but you promised yourself you would never cry over him again. You refuse to. He had already taken up so much of you that you refuse to give him any more.
"Is that what you really think?" He says, the hurt apparent in his expression. To be frank, no. Yoongi really, really never meant to hurt you. And just like he had mentioned before, he would never forgive himself if he ever hurt you. He hasn't forgiven himself. He hasn't forgiven himself for how he let you slip out of his grasp when it was his own fault for pushing aside his feelings for you. He thought the world of you, the only woman who kept it real with him and stuck by him through the highest of highs, lowest of lows. There was no one as special as you, no one who could ever be as special as you, no matter how many times he tried to sink his dick into other females.
No one was real like you.
But, he was also conflicted because of that. He felt like he couldn't give you the love you rightfully deserved, he didn't think he could love you properly. He had so much to learn and he didn't wanna hurt you in the process. It sounds so fucking stupid [because it is] that he thought distancing himself was better than just being honest. He was a dumbass high schooler, he didn't know any better. But, he never meant to make you feel special for one night, then run from it. You were always special to him. You had always been. You always will be. And these past years hurt like a bitch, but he coudn't find the words to explain. Eventually, he just believed he would do less damage if you both remained distant this way.
Although, he longed for you. He really needed you just as you needed him. He always has, always will.
So when the two of you bump into each other tonight, he felt like maybe, it was a sign. Maybe it was time to stop being childish.
God, he missed your face.
God, he was a fucking asshole.
"No, I'm not doing this shit." You shake your head. "Just— continue to stay away from me, okay? I'm better off without you." The words sting you, but it doesn't sting you as much as it stings Yoongi. You glare at him once more before you turn on your heel and begin walking down the street to head back to your dorm.
"Y/N! Wait up!" Clarice calls for you, eyeing Yoongi as she passes him to catch up with you down the street. "Hey, hey. You okay?" She swings her arm around you when she catches you silently crying to yourself. "What did he do, Y/N?"
"He fucking exists, that's what." You groan. "Ugh, fuck! I'm not supposed to be crying over his dumbass, I'm better than this Clarice— Why the fuck am I crying over it?" You break down, crouching down to your knees, causing Clarice to hover over you and pull you into a hug.
"Maybe you just need to let it out and stop forcing yourself to not feel anything."
"I hate him, I hate him, I hate him." You bawled into your arms. "I hate him so much." She caressed your back. "But he still finds a way to mean so much to me."
"I think it's time for you two to talk."
"I can't. It's just better this way."
"Are you sure? Because look at you, Y/N. You're a mess, and this hasn't even been the first time you broke down about him. As much as you want to believe that you're fine without him, you're not. He was your bestfriend and I think you need him more than you even know yourself."
"He's doing fine without me."
"You don't know that, baby. Dudes are annoying as fuck because they can literally go on about their day and mask that shit well. If he's ready, let him explain. Hear him out. You both may be misunderstanding the entire situation." It takes you a good minute before you can finally gather yourself and make it back to your dorm room with Clarice.
She was right.
But you were so angry more than anything. You were angry and you weren't sure how you could get past it.
He left your side. 
And so the next day, you go about your day in class, staying quieter than usual during practice. For the most part, Coach Chu was always on your ass because of how vocal you were and how much you caught an attitude when things didn’t go the way you'd like it to. So, to see you this quiet, almost sullen even, concerns him. But, he already pressed you once and he wasn't gonna do it again to avoid irritating you any further.
You run the usual conditioning drills, practicing play by play before a final scrimmage game for the night. You push yourself hard like you always do, almost coming out of practice dry heaving from how tired you are. It was your bad habit though, you wouldn't quit until you got it right. Until you felt right. And unfortunately, it's another one of those nights where you feel unsatisfied with your performance. So, you take it upon yourself to continue practicing in the empty gym that was set to close within the next hour. You're tired out of your mind, and you know this is probably a bad idea, but you can't shake off the feeling of dissatisfaction. To you, that was the next worst thing. Right behind Yoongi.
You begin to work on your three pointers, lay ups and shots out of range before you start to play a scrimmage game with yourself.
"I'll play you." You suddenly hear, the sweat beads dripping down your forehead at this point. You watch Yoongi as he drops his water bottle off at the side of the court before walking over to you.
"Go away."
"Afraid you'll lose?"
"No, I just don't wanna play your ass." You shot up the ball, only for it to bounce off the backboard and land in Yoongi's hand.
"Ball up. Let's play till 10."
"Why the hell do you wanna play me, Yoongi? Don't you have a random chick to bone?"
"I'm clearly standing right in front of you aren't I? Quit fucking talking and play." He aggressively passes you the ball to check it in, you following suit, making the ball damn near bounce off of his chest with how hard you pass it back. He knew exactly how to rile you up.
You get into the zone quickly, trying to find some kind of redemption for the way you had been feeling lately. Redemption, validation, way to take the edge off— anything, really. It was only until the first person scored to 10, but Yoongi was putting up one hell of a fight, jet black hair parted down the middle and matted to his forehead from the sweat building up. You take the lead, sitting at 8 while Yoongi sat at a sad 6 points.
"Ball." You call out as you scored a layup, ramming yourself against the padded wall with the force you had put up.
"That's 10."
"Ball, Yoongi." You huffed and puffed.
"Stop, don't overwork yourself. You just got—"
"Suddenly you care? Stop being a pussy and pass me the goddamn ball." He furrows his brows as he passes you the ball, crouching down to meet you at eye level to try and guard you. You run towards the right of the court, pulling a pump fake before you pivot to get away from Yoongi's guard. You pivot hard and drive it up to the basket, only to fall on the wrong footing and twist your ankle on the way down. "Ouch, fuck!"
"Shit, Y/N!" Yoongi comes to your side, hand supporting your back as the other is on your ankle.
"I'm fine, leave me—"
"Stop being so fucking stubborn and let me help you." He says angrily. You don't say anything else while you fix your position on the floor. "Can you wiggle it at least?"
"Y-yeah." You wince as you wiggle your foot and roll it around a couple of times. Phew, at least this shit wasn't gone for good. But Coach Chu still wouldn't be happy to hear you sprained your ankle releasing your anger on Yoongi during a dumb game. Yoongi helps you stand, arm around your waist as he throws your arm around his neck and holds you steady by the wrist.
"Try walking on it."
"I can, but it hurts a little." Yoongi sighs.
"You just sprained it. Let's go get you some ice or something at the nursing center before going back to your dorm." You silently nod as you hang onto Yoongi for extra support, careful not to make the situation any worse than it already is. He has you sit on the chair within the nursing center, the nurse coming over to wrap your ankle nicely before giving you crutches and some instant hot compress to pop onto it. She orders for security to drive you two over to the dorm building in their go-cart so that you wouldn't have to do much walking on your foot while you focused on healing.
Yoongi doesn't leave your side, even after you've walked into your dark, empty dorm room, not really knowing where Clarice is at right now [possibly library]. He shuts your door and sits you on the edge of your bed, setting your crutches near your bed side and your instant hot compress.
"You need anything else?" Your head hangs low as you slightly chuckle and shake your head.
"Why are you doing this?" You ask him lowly before looking back up at him, tears clouding your vision. "Hm? Why, Yoongi?"
"You're hurt, why wouldn't I—"
"Hmm." You hum. "I'm hurt? So where the fuck were you after prom night? When I was hurt then, where the fuck have you been?" You began to cry.
"Y/N." His tongue swipes over his lips before he sighs. "I'm sorry." He says, close to a whisper.
"Are you? Because I don't think you really understand how bad you hurt me." You aggressively wipe away your tears while continuing to look at him, his body language soft and full of regret. "You didn't care about me."
"How could you say that? I cared—" He sighs as his head drops for a second. "I care about you more than you know."
"If you did then why the fuck was it so easy for you to drop me the way you did?!" You yelled. "You just don't do that to the people you care about, especially if it’s your bestfriend."
"Look, you're right. I have no excuse for the way I acted, and if I could turn back time to re-do it, I would. But I can't, and the only thing I can do is apologize and do my best to make it up to you." His bottom lip trembles as he steps closer to you, a small frown forming at the corners of his mouth.
"Yoongi." You cried. "I did everything for you, I stuck by you through everything, even during the times you didn't deserve that shit from me. But I stayed! I stood by you because you meant everything to me and god—" You groaned. "I needed you. I needed you and you weren't there! I fucking hate you for doing this shit to me but part of me will always have love for you no matter how fucked up the situation is. I will always drop everything for you. I will always care about you, and it's so unfair." It broke Yoongi's heart and he didn't know what to say, but he wraps his arms around you anyway, keeping you in a tight hug against his chest. He's surprised that you let him, even more surprised at how he feels your body soften under his touch.
"Fuck, I'm so, so sorry bub." He says lowly as he presses a kiss on top of your head. "I'm so sorry."
"Please don't ever go again." You cry against his chest.
"No, I'm not. I'm gonna be right here." He says hugging you tighter. "You're the only one who's ever understood me, who's ever kept it real with me. I don't deserve you, but I know damn sure I'll work hard to make up for letting you go in the first place." He places another kiss on top of your head. "I'm right here. Not going anywhere. I'm so sorry."
- - -
5.
4.
3.
2.
1.
"THE STANFORD BOYS TAKE THE CHAMPIONSHIP!" The commentator screams into his mic, Yoongi running a lap around the court before he's cheering loudly with his teammates and joining the group hug. You run down the bleachers, dashing straight into Yoongi's arms while he swings you around.
"That's what I'm fucking talking about!" You squeal and giggle as Yoongi places you back down and plants multiple kisses around your face, hands resting on the small of your back.
"Let's get out of here." He whispers in your ear.
"I'll wait at your car, bighead." You wink, causing him to smile that gummy smile of his that you adore more than life itself.
There's obviously a huge party going on tonight to celebrate this huge achievement, but Yoongi says he doesn't wanna join for once. He's happy, yeah. But the way he wants to celebrate is in peace. After so long, he feels like he can finally say he's content with where his life is at and where it's going. He drives over to the nearest beach, backing into a space so the both of you could sit in the back and try catching all the shooting stars up above. Yoongi leans against the side of the trunk, allowing you to lay your head on his lap while you curled up beside him listening to the waves slowly crash against the sand.
"Saw one." He says, looking up at the sky.
"You're a punk, no you didn't."
"What?" He laughs. "How are you about to say that? I caught it with my own two eyes."
"Oop! I saw one!"
"Now that's a lie. I was looking up too."
"Shut up." You laugh, causing Yoongi to tickle you along the sides before he stops and plants a kiss on your lips. It's silent for a minute while the two of you take in the night view— The sky and ocean coming together as one, forming a view that seemed endless.
"Hey."
"Hm?" You hum as Yoongi's fingers gently brush through your hair.
"You know I love you right?"
"Ew with the sappy shit, Min Yoongi." He laughs.
"Seriously."
"I know." You smile up at him. "I love you too."
"Come here." He says softly, tugging you upwards. You sit up, allowing Yoongi to press his lips against yours. He pulls you in by your shirt, having you straddle his lap while he grips onto your hips and immediately grinds against you. You let out a small moan feeling how quickly he hardened, his cock hitting you in the right places as you continue to grind on him. "Fuck, wanna feel you babygirl."
"Here?"
"Yeah." He chuckles and bites onto his bottom lip.
"What, all of a sudden you're scared?"
"Fuck off." You fire back, releasing his hardened member from its confines as you stroke him gently. He tilts his head back in pleasure before tugging your shorts and panties to the side, enough for him to cop a feel of how wet you are.
"Baby's all wet."
"What're you gonna do about it?" You whisper against his lips, biting onto his bottom lip and pulling back slightly. He hisses at the sensation before he moves your hand from his cock and takes control. He pushes you upward, positioning you enough to line up with your entrance.
"Take this shit off."
"Yoongi, we're in public."
"So, you're all talk and no play."
"I hate you."
"Nobody's here." He groans. "Just take off your shorts, pleeease." He begs as he slowly strokes himself. You toss aside your shorts, Yoongi immediately hooking his finger at the bottom of your panties and tugging it aside in order to push himself into you. He does enough before he lets you do the rest of the work and sink down on his length, a gasp leaving your throat as you take all of him in. He grips your hips tightly, setting the pace as he groans into your neck, your fingers tangled in his hair resting at the nape of his neck.
"Shit, babe." You moan as you tilt your head back.
"Fuck, you always ride me so well." He presses light kisses against your neck before he's nipping at the surface.
"Godddd why do you feel so good?" You whimper.
"You like how I feel inside of you?" You nod. "Yeah? Like how my cock fills you up?"
"Never gonna get tired of it." You moan, Yoongi making you pick up the pace aggressively. Besides the waves crashing, the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin fills the car, along with your soft moans and Yoongi's groans. Your clit is constantly rubbing against him, causing the pleasure to build so quickly it becomes overwhelming. You try to hold off as much as you can but—
"My pretty baby. All I fucking need." He almost growls, the words enough to send you over the edge. You let out a loud moan, not even caring for the houses nearby as your orgasm hits hard and ripples throughout your body, sending aftershocks. Yoongi continues to have you ride him fast and hard, the overwhelming sensation causing a hint of pain to mix with more pleasure until  you feel him feel you up. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He groans as his nails dig into your skin, giving two good thrusts upwards into you to help ride out his high. You both sit in the position for a minute, trying to come back down from your highs. Yoongi gives you a delicate peck on the lips, smiling into the kiss before he pulls away. "Swear you're all I need."
"See, I don't know if I could say the same." He smacks your ass as you hike up and off of him to put on your shorts.
"Take it back."
"I'm kidding." You blush.
"My ride or die. Are you with me?"
"Always have been. Are you?"
"You know I am."
"Good. You know it takes two." He smiles before pulling you into another hug and pressing a kiss against your temple.
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augment-techs · 3 years ago
Note
28 for Connor and Trent? On the pinned post
“Pornography lied to us.”
If you give, you receive, but Trent was actually totally okay with not having Conner's lips wrap around or tongue slide over his own cock if it meant he had to put Conner's in his mouth ever again.  The first time, they thought the soccer player was just dehydrated. The second time, they thought he just hadn't eaten. The third time was the line and Trent could not have gotten off his knees and vaulted for the bathroom for mouthwash fast enough. Conner let his soldier lie limp and wet, like a cute oversized slug, pulling a pillow over his head and hold onto his post-orgasm giddiness before Trent came back in the room, talking while brushing his teeth--not wholly unappealing, but the words killed the mood dead. "I would honestly prefer eating Kira out while she's on the rag every single moment of her time-table than give you head again. At least that tastes decent and it's free protein." "STOP, I know!" * Sex in the shower was the most dangerous thing the two of them thought they had ever done, and they had Ranger duties as a bar to get over. "Well, what did you expect? Every single video you watched, the 'actors' were air-brushed to perfection and the tub was the size of a small pool when it wasn't a huge box with fifteen handles sticking out of everything." Trent sighed, not caring at all about the missed opportunity as Conner continued lathing and kneading his shampoo-conditioner bar soap into his hair as Trent sat in his lap and felt him up while palming their cocks together. Trent had already done the same for him and they were finding a fairly good alternative to trying to keep their feet planted on the bathmat, while trying to keep a steady rhythm, while trying to stay under the water's spray and not get chilly. Sitting down this close, they managed to stay in the nexus of the hot water, enjoy their closeness without the need for penetration, and ignore trying to figure out how to tell the others Trent had badly sprained his ankle. * "If we have to call someone to saw this off of me, they will never find your body." "Patience is a virtue," Conner chimed back over his shoulder, still running through every website in the search engine, hyper aware of Trent hovering over his back; still naked, still hard, both of them still sticky with sweat (from making an effort due to the crap Conner had to go through to bring this issue to fruition), but Trent was cycling between anger and fear as the ring Conner had put on him seemed to be cutting off his circulation while still keeping him at full mast. Trent could confirm that he had never been so big, and this was not a good thing. * "I did not think this would take this much organizing..." Trent continued his sketching, charcoal smooth as silk under his fingers as Conner tried not to move around too much as Kira continued adding knots and loops around his and Ethan's wrists, ankles, calves, thighs, and the bed. Both of them were still slick from the oil Kira had straight up tossed on them like so much shame, Ethan was still mostly okay with Conner being inside of him while sitting on top as Conner was made to spread eagle with Kira's ministrations, Conner was still enjoying Ethan's dick resting over his belly, twitching every so often when Kira paused to give more of a show... But it had been over an hour and none of them could convince Trent to choose a position. Conner's ass, Ethan's mouth, Kira's cunt (when she was finished with the ropes); Ethan's cock, Conner's mouth, or literally anyone's hands. (Turned out, Trent had the correct idea; by the time Kira had finished tying the boys down to achieve maximum enjoyment, all of them had been called up by Dr. O to deal with a Ranger problem. Trent had never, ever looked so smug as when he went to get the garden sheers.) * "Holy fucking shit, this hurts," Trent hissed, trying to hold very still under Conner's fingers as the other made away with the seventy-billion buttons of the outfit he'd picked out for Trent; a lingerie outfit that had pseudo-wedding dress vibes, all white satin and lace, garters and leggings and heels that Trent could just barely balance in once he'd walked into the bedroom and looked like the model in one of those specialty calendars people bought on the internet for at home. Trent had actually been enjoying himself letting Conner remove the garters with his teeth and kiss the skin that wasn't covered, palm him through the silk and lace panties and suck on his neck when Trent was bent over the bed. And then Conner put his hand along the lines of buttons and Trent realized it was wet, and itchy, and had flinched back--and not in the good way. "How the hell can you be allergic to this--you wear jeans that have the exact same buttons," Conner questioned less towards Trent and more towards the universe as he finally got the outfit off, Trent naked before him and covered in red blotches of enflamed skin, some coming to a head and secreting clear fluid that made the lace sticky and yellow. The White Ranger whined into the blankets, fingernails dug into the fabric as Conner hopped off the bed and went to get the first aid box from the bathroom that he really hoped still had that numbing cream. Trent refused to scratch or rub at the broken skin, already seeing the red tint when he looked awkwardly over his shoulder and groaning back into the blanket as his faced plopped down. Once Conner was back, metal box clattering on the bed as he took a seat to begin sanitizing the area, wet wipes and dry gauze and the cream doing its duty, making Trent groan in appreciation, he spoke aloud the thing that the both of them probably should have decided after the first failed attempt, "No more taking our cues from porn. We've been dating for three months, we can figure this out on our own--I think I need to take you to the hospital, dude; the red is spreading." Trent would remember this as one of the rare times Conner took to a bit of common sense and held onto it--even as they did have to go to the hospital. Even after they found out from a very amused hospital staff that it wasn't the buttons that were the culprits in Trent's discomfort, but the fact that there was dust from the warehouse the lingerie had been kept in that had traces of asbestos in the lining between the fabric and the buttons. (A line in Trent's medical information was added that day, and it took dancing as fast as they could to get out of explaining anything about anything to Doctor O. or Hayley or Anton. And it took a week for Trent to wear anything tighter than his loosest hoodie and an oversized T-shirt he just swam in. Conner wasn't ashamed to say that Trent might have actually looked better in the shirt. Like the Little Mermaid wandering on land in whatever could be found for covering.) * Friction, and the bedroom dark at noon with the shades drawn, and their lips and tongues staying close together as they held onto each other. Conner on his back, Trent sliding and rutting back and forth on top, their cocks slick with pre-come and their hands pawing at each other with feeling and appreciation. "Fuck, fuck," Trent kept breathing into Conner's ear, out of breath when Conner brought him back to kiss him deep and wrap his hand around both their cocks, together, thumb mingling their slick together as he kept his attention on the feeling of Trent--just Trent. This was better.
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guillotinedangel · 6 years ago
Text
Day 01. RESET
Based on the January 2019 prompt list published by @downwithwritersblock
The future is now.
Author: @blackpaladintshirogane
Ship: Klance
Characters: Keith, Lance, Acxa, Zethrid, Ezor.
Warning: S8 spoilers, offensive language.
Summary: During a BOM benefic delivery, Keith encounters a rebel resistance Galra group that attacks him an puts his life in jeopardy. Fearing he may die anytime even thought the war is over, he flies to Altea to find Lance and confess his feelings.
Song:
"Keith, do you copy?"
Acxa's voice sounded, worried, on the other side of the comms. She had been trying for a while now to reach her captain, but there was no sign of him since he had gone down to the planet they were currently in, looking for signs of life they could help.
Now that the war was over, the Blade of Marmora had been renewed. They were still incredible skilled warriors but now their duties had been changed to deliver help to the places in the Universe that had been affected by the battles and the destruction. They usually did not have any trouble but today it had been different and Keith, who always took the responsibility of patrolling the area before landing, was not answering his team's call.
"Maybe we should go down ourselves, just in case" Ezor suggested, also worried by the lack of answer.
"Give the little one a bit more time. He's tough" Zethrid added.
"This is weird"
Acxa worked on the ship's panel of control, trying to look for anything she could possibly do, but she got jack.
Meanwhile, on the ground , Keith was running for his life.
Panting, with his lungs already aching every time he gasped for air, the boy was trying to escape his persecutors, who he could hear, yelling to each other, only a few steps behind him.
The attack had taken him by surprise, but, still, he was punishing himself for being so careless. If he hadn't been agile enough, his blood would be painting a beautiful canvas on the rocky landscape of the planet.
It had been Garla, nonetheless, the ones who had tried to kill him. Maybe that was the reason why he was running and not fighting back: the shock he had upon seeing the purple skinned soldiers, referring to him as paladin of Voltron, even though it had been years since the lions had abandoned them.
"Acxa!! Ezor!! Zethrid!! Somebody!? Do you copy me!?" he shouted over the comms between gasps, but the plain and cold static answered him.
Tired already, desperately trying to reach his team for help, Keith did not see the rift splitting the ground in two at his feet and he fell right on it, with a cry of pain, hitting his ribs on the ledge and spraining his right ankle on the deep hole. Soon enough, he was able to feel the warm blood running, tickling his skin under his tight suit.
He struggled to get himself out, not caring about injuring himself even more, but in vain. The rift was shallow but too narrow, so he was trapped on it. Little was worth all his screaming and cursing, and then a shadow hovered over him and the click of a gun and an evil laugh reached his ears.
"Look at you. The mighty Red Paladin, trapped like a rat in a hole on the ground. Pathetic"
"Fuck you" Keith growled , angryly, which earned him a kick on the head that made him spit blood out of his mouth.
"Shut it, and try not to keep spilling blood over my new skin trophy. Now. You're gonna be a good boy, and tell us where the rest of your team is"
"What are you even barking about? Haven't you heard the war is over?"
Keith could almost hear how the big warrior gritted his sharp teeth.
"We know, but you worms are still alive. That's insulting to us, to the memory of our great Emperor Zarkon. You destroyed it all!! We want our revenge!!"
"Then get me out of here and I'll show you the blade Zarkon tasted!!"
His words had the effect required and the soldier grabbed Keith by his neck and raised him in the air and out of the rift like a flower out of its soil, to throw him on the ground under his feet with anger. The boy twisted in pain to the impact. He probably had a few ribs broken.
"I'll break every single bone in your tiny body"
"Fuck you" Keith cursed again at him, but before the soldier could even point his gun at him, he was brought down alongside his companions by three figures that appeared out of nowhere.
"Keith!!" Acxa shouted, upon seeing her captain on the floor, the blood starting to shine through the dark fabric of the suit.
The three warriors ran to help him.
"The blade Zarkon tasted?? Do you have a death wish? " Zethrid faced him while Acxa and Ezor inspectioned his wounds.
"Stupid human" Acxa mumbled between her teeth, "It wasn't even you who finished Zarkon. It was Lotor"
"Who cares. I had to win some time and it worked, right? " Keith whispered, feeling how the exhaustion was starting to catch up to his muscles and brain.
"They were going to kill you!"
"No. I can't... I can't die. I have to do something first"
"Yeah? Like what?"
____________________________________________
The day had dawned sunny and warm, and Lance was heading for the orchard to take care of his crops, with one of the altean kids that lived alongside him and other alien families on the farm he had retired to after the war was over, seeking peace of mind and relaxation after all the stress and fear that it had brought upon them. What he did not expect to receive were the news of the arrival of a stranger warrior out of the mouth of another of the children that were running around, and even less it being Keith in the flesh.
"Wow, that mullet gets worse with the years" Lance jokingly said as soon as his former partner was close enough to hear him.
Keith laughed to his words, but he merely managed to scoff. His broken ribs pained him too much to actually burst a laughter and, even though he tried to hide it, he was limping. Also, Lance knew him all too well.
"Are you okay?" the Cuban asked, with a worried look on his blue eyes.
"Just a mission that went wrong. Nothing to worry about"
Lance raised an eyebrow.
"A mission? I thought the Blade was doing humanitarian work now?"
"Um, yeah we do..." Keith wondered his eyes away from Lance's, "But I... Found myself with some old glories that recognized me. And they weren't nice to me"
"Okay, you're coming with me now. You need to lay down"
Keith half smiled upon seeing Lance's face, frowning with a troubled look. He would have tried to argue with him over it, but he knew there would be no way to make him desist, so he followed his friend to his home, were Lance made him lay on a very comfortable couch while he made some hot coffee.
"There you go" he said, offering him a cup, "Now would you tell me why you're here? Do you need a place to heal your wounds? You can stay if you want"
The offering took Keith by surprise. He hadn't even thought about that possibility.
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah! We have plenty of room here and I could use..." Lance stopped himself before saying what was roaming his mind and blushed to the very thought of even telling Keith what he actually wanted to say, "You'd be welcome"
"What was that?"
"What was what?"
"The sentence you didn't finish" Keith teased him, accommodating himself on the couch.
"Stay on your back" Lance ordered him in a soft voice, avoiding the question at the same time.
"I'll stay if you make me"
"Wha... What?"
Lance's face lighted up like a lighthouse and Keith smiled softly at him.
"I came here for a reason, Lance. I... I almost died in this mission--"
"You what!?"
"Let me finish! Dammit! Those soldiers almost killed me and the thing is... I could not stop thinking about... About how much I regretted not visiting you more often. Not... Talking to you since months ago. Not being by your side"
"What do you mean with all that, Keith?"
"Fuck! Lance!" Keith snapped, making a pinch of pain flood his chest on the process, "I'm not good with this feelings shit..."
The Cuban boy smiled.
"You mean to tell me you missed me, mullet?" Lance asked with a cheeky grin.
"Yes but, not only that"
Keith's cheeks started to dye red as he spoke. He wanted to shout it at Lance, but what if his friend did not feel the same?
Suddenly Lance raised from his seat and approached him, kneeling by his side, on the floor.
"What else then?" he asked with shiny eyes, placing his hand on Keith's knee. His altean marks seemed to flash for a second.
"I... I was scared, Lance. I thought I'd die and I'd never see you again. I'd never get to tell you that... Fuck... That I love you, dammit. That's it, I said it, now you can reject me or hate me if you want"
Keith stared into the black liquid that filled his mug, trying to ignore the feeling of crying that was crowling its way up his chest. He was regretting his words right now. Lance was still probably mourning Allura. He could see it on his eyes every year when they met before her statue to remember her. There was still love shinning in them.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have--"
But his words died on his throat as Lance leaned forward and pressed his lips against his', catching him by surprise.
"I love you too" the boy answered, breaking the kiss after a few seconds.
Warm tears streamed down Keith's cheeks, releasing all the pressure he had been feeling inside. Lance ran quick to hug him.
"Careful" Keith said between sobs, "My ribs"
"Sorry" Lance tried to pull back, but Keith wrapped him with one arm and pulled him back to his chest.
"I don't care about the pain. I just need you close now"
They stayed like that in silence for a few minutes until Lance broke the silence.
"You think it's too late to join the Blade?"
"What?"
"Well this calm life... Is driving me nuts. I wanna go back up there. With you"
Keith smiled wide and planted a quick kiss on Lance's lips.
"I guess I can find a suit for my sharpshooter"
–Chimera.
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vogel-lynne · 7 years ago
Text
The taste of Rebellion - Extra #1
"There's something in my hair. Remove it, please" Gad was sitting, frowning and holding a boiling cup of coffee. "What? You know I can't see anything!" Replied Jonathan, cleaning up his glasses.
"Maybe it's the atmosphere" replied Daniel with a slight smirk, and a handful of autumn-shaded fallen leaves. Another session was over; fall had already started, but luckily wasn't raining and Liberty members were spending some quality time in St. James's park, a habit that started as they collectively moved to London for many different reasons: it was closer to Israel, public transport worked, love and business. Before, various parks in Edinburgh had been their special spot.
"You might be able to cheat on our old school staff or a fellow ice-skater, but I know you're lying, Queen Elsa!" Several leaves fell off the bassist's black curls, where they previously formed a crown; he was proud of his hair, although many other people with the same feature decided to straighten or dye it: he felt it expressed very well his thoughtful, but adventurous personality. His eyes were a little too distanced, warm brown and wide, just like princess Jasmine's without kajal. "Ok, ok! But you resembled a male version of Frieda Kahlo!" Said Daniel: "I swear!" His nickname was due to his turquoise irises and a long blonde braid he prepared himself; he was pretty used to style himself without any help from hairdressers, since his ice skating competitive career ended just a few years ago. He was the last British skater to ever make it to the podium, winning a silver medal at 1998 games and a surprising bronze medal in ice dance during 2006 Turin Olympics; he had memorized both routines, for Mae Vasil'eva was his biggest crush. Therefore all seemed perfect...except when she ran to George Downie, her actual injuried partner, leaving Daniel alone on the podium's right side with a bouquet of flowers and a medal that lost its worth.
Two snapping fingers took him back to reality: "What's happening? It's your scar?" Asked Liam, referring to a small cut on the drummer's left eyebrow; he got it when he failed Surya Bonaly's iconic backflip. It could have been worse: sprained ankles, backbone or spine fractures...
"I was just thinking..." replied gently the blonde, who just let his consciousness flow. His often peaceful brain sometimes was devastated by hurricanes after which everything returned to its right place.
"About what? " his bandmates got curious; Daniel rarely spoke his mind and his negative thoughts were usually hidden behind a smile and pastel or white athleisure clothting.
"Nothing, just old sport memories...When I fell over during a training or when Mae left me alone with a medal I wasn't supposed to win...it belonged to George!"
"Well, who saved Britain from a last-minute withdrawal?" Liam glanced at him; as the unofficial leader and band founder he had to motivate his friends, especially since they literally saved his life from suicide.
"And who got frozen in Turin, missing family time in a warmer land?" Continued Gad, without any intention to offend Daniel or the sport he loved; his Mediterranean roots caused him to despise cold weather.
"That's brutal!" Liam laughed over his friend's sincerity. Sometimes he was brutal, but his main quality wasn't easy to find in ordinary people. They met at age four and immediately understood to be made for each other when Gad didn't lose it in front of the Scottish kid's lizard pet that scared the hell out of other children.
"And finally, who lost an arm while shaking a huge foam hand?" Jonathan completed the sentence; ten years ago he was the only one looking geared up for Superbowl instead of a figure skating competition: "I still have that glove, though Yoda almost endeavoured it. But I'm gonna get a few new ones! Don't worry!"
"For F**K's sake!" Liam facepalmed, secretly admitting it was funny to see the rhythmic guitarist's American trashy side, especially when he tweeted about Country Music Awards or the currently elections, obviously dissing Trump and his dystopian projects. "Unfollow me if you support Trump" was written on his t-shirt, visible under his hooded flannel and windbreaker.
"Ow! I almost forgot..." Jonathan adjusted his glasses once again and widely opened The Post so that all the four if them could read it.
"WILLY!" he pointed at the main image in the central page: it depicted a boy whose auburn spiky and messy hair reminded him of Liam when they first met, except that the singer wore old ragged stuff from thrift stores whereas the youngster had expensive tennis outfit designed by Fred Perry. And looked pretty annoyed, despite the trophy he was holding
"British teenager disappeared - Johnny McGregor was last seen in his house's living room, where he fell out with his parents."
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