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kth1 · 4 years ago

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Cut Shot [MYG]

Cut Shot [Yoongi x Reader] ⟶ Credit: @kimtaehyunq ⟶ Genre: Smut | 21+| Boyfriend AU | One Shot ⟶ Warnings: Established relationship, explicit, oral (M/F), alcohol use, condom sex, massage oil, lovey-dovey-flirtations, hint of cute jealousy, etc ⟶ WC: 10k+ ⟶ Summary: He hates the water, he hates the heat, and he hates the Sun. Any form of physical activity is a big no-no, yet Min Yoongi will go out of his way to show that he loves you on your mini vacation. ⟶ Teaser: “Breathlessly nodding your head, you drone at the loss of his fingers. You beam a hazy smile, the post orgasm paradise you swim in radiates off you. “Let me help you,” your arms stretch out to him.” ⟶ Beta Reader: None other that @shadowsremedy (thank you for doing this in a timely manner 🧡 you’re awesome!) ⟶ Author’s Note: This fic is apart of @jamaisjoons Summer Bucket List Collab. This is my very first collab I have been apart of and I am very happy to have been associated with this project!

The blistering sun beams from above, heat rising scorching hot off the sands. Seagulls squawking in the distance, some scavenging around for disposed food – or snatching some from the unattained.

Yoongi trudges along the beach, black Raybands sit on the bridge of his adorable button nose, a large sunhat, sandals, an excessive tropical theme button-up shirt, and obnoxiously colored swim trunks to set his attire. With each step he takes, his feet kick up sand behind him, a half empty beer in hand in a pink koozie snuggled around the bottle as he sips away at his delicious beverage, merrily.

He sees you ahead, prancing around on the beach volleyball courts with your pony-tail rung high and skin glistening in the light. Right beside those said courts is his destination – the row of canopy tents that provided him his only relief. Shade!

Groups of people huddle around the area, humans of all ages, shapes, color, and size. He secretly hopes the smaller children applied much more sunscreen than normally, especially how they’ve been in and out of the ocean’s water at least five times now. But who’s counting?

Yoongi trails himself back to your shared designated tent, plopping himself down on the double wide reclining lawn chair. Here, he gets a front row seat at your court and some relaxing shade. Feet up, cooler full of snackable food and drinks besides him, and the best view in town – you.

You, the outgoing bubbly beauty, are playing a fun pick-up game with the rest of your party along with a handful of locals. Volleyball is your game much like music is Yoongi’s muse. Even with several differences in interest, the two of you get along quite well emotionally.

Many times Yoongi catches you thanking Hoseok for introducing you to him, in all honesty that is the only way he would notice you. Yoongi prefers to stay in isolation, nose shoved deep in a music sheet or much too invested in staying in bed all day. Once in a while he will strike up a game of basketball with his friend group, but only on a good day.

At first Yoong was incredibly confused towards you. Why would you want to meet him? Who even were you and when or how did you guys ever run into another? Upon Hoseok’s persistent pleading, insisting that he ‘has a good feeling about the two of you’, Yoongi eventually agreed to meet up with this friend of Hoseok’s.

It was a small date, nothing fancy, just a warm afternoon coffee meet up in the middle of September. Yoongi sat with phone in hand, iced americano in the other, at the bar seats set up at the windowpane in the front of the store of the local café. He was so indulged at tapping away on his phone, he didn’t even register the presence of another standing right next to him. You found it utterly adorable how Yoongi nearly spat out his drink as he stood up to greet you properly, profusely apologizing for his behavior.

Yoongi admitted, he remained skeptical throughout the date, though he was completely intrigued by you. Not only were you attractive in his eyes, cute with a bit of a feisty bite, he admired the way you spoke. You had a hidden passion behind your words – you spoke with confidence, sometimes even assertive… and he liked that.

But, what he enjoyed most is how you would get lost in your words, ranting long sentences when you hadn’t realized you had said too much. Something about the way you talked perked his ears like a silent harp playing in the background of the world. What Yoongi noticed after that date was how you kept his attention the entire time. How it seemed that the two of you were vastly different in many ways, but he found something in you that reeled him in instantly. Before bidding goodbye after the cheap coffee date, he reached for your hand as he asked if you would like to do this again sometime.

Nine months later, he finds himself sitting court side to your beach volleyball game. On vacation with a few of his closest friends at a beach house along the coast. A quick getaway from home, promises of having some game nights and visiting a few touristy areas. The group was partially here to support you at your annual volleyball competition, but other than that they came to party.

“Got it!” you shout, alerting Hoseok – your current teammate – that you were receiving the ball. Yoongi watches as you dive forward into the tan sands, getting an arm under the ball just in time to pop it up for Hoseok to assist.

On the other side of the net, acting as your current rivals were Jungkook and Hoseok’s long-term girlfriend, Haru. They readied themselves up for a freeball to come over, acting fast when Hoseok sent the ball to the deep back corner of the court.

It is worth it to Yoongi to see your beautiful smile light up as you were enjoying the hobby you love most, watch you ravish the sport as if it were your natural element. The sweat beads off of your brow, forearms, even soaked the fabric slightly under each of your breasts of your bikini top.

A small bickering emits from Jungkook by the looks of it, clearly arguing about something that he finds unfair but it soon washes over from Hoseok kicking up sand at another for the sake of giggles.

You walk your way over to the tent with Haru after the two rambunctious men chase another towards the ocean. Your boyfriend, who looked completely unbothered by the environment around him even though you knew he’d do anything to be back inside with the cool air conditioner, welcomes you with a warm smile and an iced cold water bottle from the cooler that he has been monitoring because it harbors all the beers.

“Hey babe,” you lean down, placing a quick peck to Yoongi’s plump lips. He tastes the salt of your sweat, and you taste the alcohol on his breath. “Day drinking much earlier than yesterday?”

Yoongi shrugs in his chair, tilting his head back to finish off his current beverage, “It’s 5pm somewhere... It’s a vacation after all.”

You guzzle down your fresh water, towel wrapping around your neck to help pat down the glistening sweat that coats you. “I’m not judging,” you smile with a wink, “just observing. I don’t want you to be bored.”

“I’m not bored when I watch you. Plus it’s fun to see Jungkook get riled up.”

Grabbing hold of one of the many randomly scattered candy bags, Jungkook’s unhealthy snack choices at it’s finest, you settle with a few gummy worms to toss in your mouth. “He does get worked up fast when it comes to games.” The two of you laugh while looking over at the ocean to see Jungkook having Hoseok flipped over his shoulder and walking deeper in the water for a proper body slam.

“What should we have for dinner tonight? Home cooked or take-out?” Haru inquires, scanning over her phone for local restaurants that may peek the group’s interest.

Yoongi checks the time on his watch, grimacing at the thought of food shopping so soon when it nearly took you all three hours. A wad of cash was eliminated from his bank account, in the store to pack for the trip in the first place. Thankfully you had offered to him that he wouldn’t have to pay a single dime the entire vacation to make up for covering everyone that day.

“Let’s grab a bite somewhere, I’ve been to a place called Poseidon’s, lots of seafood and such! My treat.” You gleam a smile towards Yoongi who’s eyes widened at the word seafood, knowing very well how your man enjoys himself some nice cooked lobster.

Another day, another play.

Ever since visiting this great spot, your party visited the beach nearly every day! You on the other hand had no choice in the matter because you were practicing for your tournament at the end of the week with your partner. Annually, your old high school best friend and you would sign up for this beach tournament, catch up with another and reminisce on the younger years. It was only for the first week that you’d be tied to this obligation and luckily your group booked the rental house for two weeks, giving you more time with your friends afterwards.

Maggie, someone who you grew up with ever since befriending another in middle school, was your go-to gal for years before college separated another. She continued to a division one school on an all paid scholarship for volleyball. Your interests were a bit more separate from hers and you find yourself attending a creative arts school, division three, but you still continued to play for your schools team. As much as volleyball will forever be embedded into your blood, you found a new focus when it came to creativity and joined a school where you’d learn how to become a creative director of some sorts.

Together, Maggie and you spent most days making up the lost time. Your group was more than understanding prior to even agreeing to this vacation, and you all promised to make it worthwhile. One day, Yoongi had joined Maggie, her boyfriend Taehyung, and you on a lunch date. You were happy Yoongi showed up, given the fact that he’s a bit introverted and shy, but regardless the lunch went smoothly and to both Maggie’s and yours surprise - the two of you had found out that Taehyung and Yoongi knew another because they, too, went to the same high school.

Now, as you practice your heart out on the beach courts, Hoseok and Yoongi are padding their feet across the hot sands, hauling the belongings with a small wagon, far away from sight.

“I know the basics - the idea of how to play.” Yoongi insists, “I just want to be able to play with her. Nothing fancy.”

“Sounds pretty fancy to me. C’mon she’s the first girl to get you up off your ass. You must like her enough to endure the summer heat, exercising, the sun…” Hoseok counts off his fingers one by one.

“Alright, alright. I get it.” Yoongi shoves Hoseok in the shoulder. “Just get on with it and show me what I need to do.”

“Ok, first, you smile wide like this!” Hoseok giggles and manages to duck just in time from Yoongi’s flying hand.

The two pivot themselves off in the distance, much further down the beach than the volleyball courts could see, and far away from your view. To your knowledge the entire group dispersed to enjoy whichever activities they wish to do while you practiced with your partner. What you didn’t know is that Yoongi had asked Hoseok, on one of his drunken moods, for some one-on-one training so that he can pick up on the hobby you love most - to surprise you by the end of vacation and play a game of pick-up with you.

“Pass this!” Abruptly, Hoseok chucks the beach volleyball at Yoongi - only for him to naturally catch it with his hands. “No! Shake that basketball reflex, arms together! And extend! Make a platform - now pass it.”

Biting back his sharp tongue, Yoongi tosses the ball back for Hoseok to repeat the action, this time now he is prepared to pass it effortlessly with his forearms.

“Great!” Hoseok squabbles, “but, now you need the proper position. Bend your knees.”

“I have to bend them?” Yoongi reacts with a distasteful gesture.

“Center of gravity needs to be low for movement. Don’t plant your feet! The sand makes it much harder to move in.” He scolds with a push of his hands to Yoongi’s back, knocking the older man off balance. “See, you’re off center!”

Yoongi scoffs, “Pushing me around isn’t helping!” He fixes his friend with a stern glare through his cat-like eyes.

“Yeah, but it makes you focus. You do better when someone’s on your ass. I hear it all the time back at the apartment, Y/n is a bit… assertive in the bedroom.” Hoseok winks, eyes squinting from corner to corner.

“It’s no better compared to the amount of broken furniture that came from your room,” Yoongi quickly retorts, “even the damn couch is still broken!”

Hoseok shrugs, “not my fault both Haru, and you enjoy being bossed around by their significant others.”

Yoongi retaliates, “It’s not being bossed, maybe in your case, but not mine. We go both ways.”

Hoseok tosses the ball once again, hoping to pepper aimlessly with Yoongi and get him used to moving around, “You sure about that? You’re a passive person, Yoongi. Even I can pick on you and get away with it.” Hoseok taunts with a light heart, returning the ball back and forth between the two of them.

“Not everything is about being physical.”

Hoseok smirks, a judging last look before lightly hitting the volleyball down into Yoongi’s platform with the snap of his wrist, “We have a lot to work on, especially when it comes to hand setting. Maybe tomorrow when Y/n isn’t around we can snag a court and play a game with Haru and Kook.”

“We’ve exhausted spades, go-fish, and even tried blackjack.” Jungkook slurs his words around the neck of his beer bottle. He curls up along the armchair where he aimlessly stares up at the ceiling fan, counting out how many times it spins until forgetting where he left off.

“Well, it’s not the weekend just yet, so the bars won’t be that fun right now.” You speak, a small smile spread across your face as you glance over the table at your boyfriend who is nose deep into another playing card manual.

Jungkook’s large eyes look at you with hope, “will you go bar hopping with us when we do?”

“We’ll see how tired I am after the tourney, but I would love to, Kook!”

“Bullshit!” Hoseok’s voice pierced through the sound of pop music playing from Haru’s phone, hand slapping the table timed at the sound of his voice with a finger pointed up on the other as if a lightbulb had gone off above his head. Everyone glances over at him from the sudden outburst, “we haven’t played bullshit yet!”

You blink, shock value very evident on your face at Hoseok’s accusation. “For a second I thought you were calling me out, saying I wasn’t going to go out.” Laughing, you gather up a handful of playing cards that scattered the tabletop and begin shuffling the deck.

“Well, that too. We’ve been here only a few days, but you’ve been a bit too busy for some things. And a bit cranky at night too.” Haru jabs Hoseok with her elbow to his side, making him wince the moment her pointy bone contacted him.

Raising a questioning eyebrow at him, you briefly peeped over at Yoongi who only raised his shoulders to indicate his indifferences under your stare.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter. “This tournament is important to me, and it’ll be over just after the weekend. We’ll still have a few extra days for activities.”

“Yeah, noona is going to dance with me. It’s already set.” Sweet, drunken Jungkook sighs, head tilt back on his chair. His lips pursed, eyes closed as he imagines the upcoming bar crawl.

Yoongi interjects, head snapping up to glare over Jungkook, “You’re not going to get all handsy with my girlfriend.” He frowns, tossing a handful of papers to the side. “There’s plenty of single locals here. You’ll have no problem picking one up at a bar.”

Jungkook peeks one eye open, a cocky grin drawn to his face, “Worried about me taking Y/n?”

You sit there rolling your eyes, Hoseok too preoccupied by Haru snuggling up against him, and Yoongi death staring Jungkook - probably lighting him on fire in his mind.

“As if.” Yoongi challenges, grabbing hold of his almost empty drink to finish off with one swig.

“Guess noona never told you about Valentine’s day weekend? It was magical.” Jungkook snickers, until the push of Yoongi’s chair alerts the younger one of his hyung standing up, ready to go straight for Jungkook. Quickly, the tyrant Jungkook, jumps himself off the chair, throwing a pillow back towards Yoongi as he scampers his way down the hall, away from Yoongi’s wrath and out of view.

Yoongi shakes his head, “this kid is always so scared of me.” He collects the litter of empty bottles from the coffee table, gathers up the useless waste of napkins and food wrappers around the room to dispose of them in the trash.

“I’m sure he has many reasons to fear you. I had only given him a kiss to his hand when he burnt it when taking the pizza out of the oven. Guess that’s enough leverage for him to toy with.” You laugh, joining him along with cleaning up the table where you sit.

“I know,” he chuckles. “The moment it happened he came running into the living room to tell me. He acts like there was more to that.” Yoongi side-eyes you skeptically, almost playfully, “better be all that there was.”

For some time now, Haru rests her head against Hoseok’s shoulder and you were sure she was probably too tired to do much else, especially at the way she nearly tilts forward when Hoseok moves his body. Haru braces herself quickly, eyes shot wide, and glances you with a sheepish smile.

“Go to bed.” you urge, “both of you. Aren’t you going to the festival in the morning with us? Get some rest.”

Both Haru and Hoseok sluggishly get up from their spots, placing a few empty glasses to the counter before departing the room to their quarters. It is a bit late after all, and once the alcohol sinks in a bit everyone starts feeling a bit tired. You’re sure by morning everyone will be rejuvenated, energized to go straight back to partying.

Without notice, Yoongi stood behind you, resting his hands on both of your shoulders. “Hey…” He whispers.

You make a noise of acknowledgement, raising one of your hands to lay on top of his to rub soft circles around his knuckles.

“You okay, babe? You seem… stressed.” His hands emphasized the word by lightly squeezing the tendons of your shoulders. He feels your body react instantly, the tightness of your back slowly being worked over with his firm thumbs. Rolling over a tight knot, the flick of his thumb forces you to jolt from the straining muscle.

You laugh at your reaction, “Yeah. I guess I am. I’ve been so busy with practicing for the tourney, I guess I haven’t noticed my body has been so –“

“Stiff?” He is quick to finish your sentence, dipping his head down to peck an innocent kiss to your head. You nod with a sigh.

“You’ve been so occupied,” his lips came back down, “you probably forgot that you’re on a vacation.” He smirks into your hair, running his fingers up your neck to your jaw. Yoongi tilts your head back, enough to kiss you upside down.

It's lazy at first, soft pouty lips peppering another in sync. Until Yoongi deepens the kiss, daring himself to push his tongue into your mouth. The wet muscle met with you in a savory passion.

He tastes just as you expect, a hidden spike of whiskey and the odd flavor of mint lingering on his breath.

“Come.” Yoongi breaks away. Walking in front of where you sit he takes your hand in his, leading the two of you back to your bedroom.

“Yoongi…” you drawl out the syllables of his name with a sigh of defeat. “Yoongi, I’m sore.”

Before making it completely down the hallway, he pulls you into him with an arm snaked around your waist and a hand lifting your chin. With a soft smile across his face he gazes down at you with mirth, “I know babe, I’m here to make it better.”

You smile, raising your eyebrows in question, “Oh, yeah?”

Yoongi almost matches your mannerism, but instead gives you a sly look with a poke to your nose. “Yes. Now come.” With a flip you’re facing forward. His arms securely around your middle, Yoongi proceeds to waddle the two of you the rest of the way down the hall and into your room with a fit of shared giggles.

He kicks the door close behind him, ushering you to the edge of your shared bed. Before he let you turn, nuzzling his head between the crook of your neck to leave fleeting kisses across your supple skin.

“Can I take this off?” he whispers, picking at the hem of your shirt.

You hum a tone of acknowledgement, smirking as Yoongi raises the loose material off your body. From here he can see your tan lines complemented by your sports bra, a slight shade darker than your beautiful natural skin tone.

He lightly tugs at one of the crossed straps, allowing it snap against your back. “This too.”

You look over your shoulder with a playful smile, “Of course.”

Cuffing the bottom of your bra you raise it up, allowing freedom to your soft set of mounds before Yoongi is fast in scoping both up with his hands before you could toss away the piece of clothing.

After disposing your athletic top his lips peppered along your shoulder blade.

“Now what?” You question while topping your hands over his.

“Lay down for me,” he directs with a loving slap to your right ass cheek, “face in the pillows.”

Cautiously, you kneel your way up the length of the bed, watching Yoongi who had walked over to a bag besides the dresser. He shuffles through its contents before pulling out a clear bottle with a rosé color top. Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion while pressing your cheek to the fluff of a pillow.

Reading into your quizzical look your boyfriend responds with a wink, “Amber and argan oil.” He teasingly shook the container while stepping closer to the bed.

“You brought massage oil?” You ask, stunned.

“Thought we’d try it out.” Yoongi shrugs, lifting the remainders of your hair off your back, clearing up his workspace.

You groan with satisfaction as Yoongi perches himself over your body, resting his ass on the back of your thighs. “Mmm, I fucking love you,” you giggle into the sheets.

The sound of the cap popping off the bottle arouses your ears and soon enough you feel the lukewarm drizzle down the base of your spine. Its lightweight aroma is subtle, but has a soothing sweet smell.

Instantly your body melted into Yoongi’s fingertips, they diligently work the slippery liquid across your skin.

“I love you, too.” The smile is heard through his voice. He enjoys the way your back arches towards his hands, the way it chases his touch. He isn’t featherlight, his deft fingers are trained well against the taught muscles of your back, aiming to help un-knot you a bit.

His thumbs are quick to find the tightness along your shoulder blades, taking note to pay special attention to the areas with rigid and stressed muscles.

You deeply sigh into the pillow; eyes close comfortably in relaxation by Yoongi’s skillful digits.

A soft chuckle resounds from his chest, “you’re already moaning for me, babe?”

You nod your head, unashamed.

He watches the scattered goosebumps decorating your back appear and deplete in small fractions. Takes in your sun-kissed skin, the smooth gleam of oil slicking the surface. He smirks at your soft noises and the pleas that ask him to go softer or harder.

Boldly, Yoongi makes an effort to venture lower, dipping his hands into the waistband of your shorts. He rests the elastic below the swell of your ass, grabbing a firm handful of cheek in both palms.

You grumble in submission, not particularly upset with his choice of massage pattern.

Involuntarily, your body acts on its own accord. Arching yourself to further lift your bottom into his kneading hands.

“Careful, Y/n.” Yoongi spiritedly warns. “You’re going to make me hard if you keep that up.”

His thumbs hooked into the muscle of your exposed butt, applying a strong prod into the tenderness. You squirm under him, teeth trapping your bottom lip as a small mewl escapes your nose.

“Easy, easy!” He lets up, moving his hands to your hips. Running circles into your skin with the pads of his fingers, he continues to coax you. “I’m just trying to loosen you up.”

“I know. It feels good. It feels really good, Yoongi.” Huffing with a laugh, “I can’t believe how sore I am.”

Yoongi leans up, clutching his hands around your shoulders and casually dipping himself closer to you. “I can,” he whispers. Yoongi plants a small kiss between your shoulder blades, his hips leaning closer to the round of your ass. There you feel it – a slow drag along the crack of your cheeks of his hardening dick stuffed insides his shorts. He hums when you purposely push up to feel him more.

“I see that someone else also needs to loosen up a bit.”

Yoongi leaves room for you to spin in your spot. Once face-to-face he dips his head closer to yours, nudging your nose against his. “Maybe. Will you help me?”

Your hands raise the material of his shirt up his thin torso, watching Yoongi expertly yank it off in one swift movement.

“Of course, I’ll help you.”

Your smile met his lips with a soft peck that soon turns into a more heated make-out. Your tongue grinds against his just how his hips did into your pelvis.

Those nimble hands of yours traveled the expanse of his sides, legs raised for him to slot between. The kiss races into fervor, your fingers brush against his undercut, tugging at his thick locks and his fingers are desperate to tease your nipples.

You missed this, you missed him.

“Hold on, let me grab a condom.” Yoongi detaches his lips from yours reluctantly, retrieving a foil pack from a nearby drawer.

Your tongue quickly swipes between your parted lips, watching with a craned neck at your boyfriend who exhausted no time clearing his shorts and slinking the rubber snug along his swollen length. With a few languid tugs at his cock he wiggles his eyebrows towards you.

Whining almost pathetically, you rub your thighs together as you take his image in. Your boyfriend is handsome after all, you yearned to meet him many months ago because of your massive attraction to the way he looked. Learning to love him, and how dedicated and invested he is with parts of his life which make him happy – you being one of those things.

You grow more attracted to his whole being, ethos and all. His intuition, spirit, and character as a whole is what draws you into him every time. He makes you feel normal and special at the same time. Yoongi has a way about him that always makes you think about how deep his mind actually can be, always surprising you when he opens up.

Yoongi saunters back over to you, hands at your knees and running up the plane of your thighs to pull your bottoms off with your assistance.

“Wanna see how wet you are,” he rasps with the spread of your knees. Yoongi positions himself between your limbs, groaning when your slick glistens in the light. Inserting two fingers with little resistance, he listens to the high pitch breath that catches in your throat. With a thumb at your clit and two fingers knuckle deep – he sets a speedy pace.

You clench and unclench in unison to his pads stroking against the rough spongy area embedded in your walls. Yoongi stares at the rise and fall of your chest, the way your mouth parts with each soft moan. You’re beautiful and he knows it, but he wants you to know it – and feel it.

The warm sensational build up lingers in the pit of your stomach, an all too familiar sign to tell you’re coming close to your peak. Yoongi smirks, noticing this behavior, if not by the way your legs wiggle more and the way your head tosses to the side, but also by the way your cunt tightens around his two slim digits.

“Yoongi –“

His name rolls off your tongue as lustful as ever, your hand latching around the wrist connected to the fingers that assault your in a blissful manner. With his unoccupied hand now holding your hips in place, he inclines his head closer to your core. He replaces his thumb with his mouth, matching the rhythm of his deft fingers.

You shutter underneath him, both hands carding his hair for purchase while waves of pleasure vibrated through your cunt and the expanse of your body. The cream gathering around his fingers made its way into his mouth, savoring your natural essence.

“Feel good?”

Breathlessly nodding your head, you drone at the loss of his fingers. You beam a hazy smile, the post orgasm paradise you swim in radiates off you. “Let me help you,” your arms stretch out to him.

Gladly, Yoongi careens closer, angling himself expertly so that the tip of his condom-covered cock dipped within your folds. Without dithering he pushes forward, sinking his cock in your wall-hugging slippery warmth. Inch by inch he disappears inside you, hitting the base of his pelvis against your clit. With arms snaked around your naked body he rests his head against your shoulder, turned enough to nip along your jawline.

His dick fills you up completely, deliciously. If it wasn’t for the slow shallow deep thrusts he gave your cunt, you’d be completely happy just holding him inside you for hours. In this position it was easy to grind himself into your clit, also easier to lock eyes with your flushed-out expressions.

The two of you exchange pleasurable moans that boosts another’s confidence. Audible noises that turned each other on even more, stroking your lustful pride that the both of you are fully enjoying the dirty act.

“Faster, please.” You match your hips up with his. Squelching noises fill the room with the snap of Yoongi’s thrusts. The wetter you get, the more tempting it is for Yoongi to ram straight into his your pretty cunt.

The jutting of his body scoots yours up with each stride, your legs locked around his waist and arms hooked around his back to anchor yourself.

Sweat coats around his hairline, threatening to form droplets that eventually would escape his body. The summer night’s dry air hugs the two of you, rising temperatures amplifying your bodies. The smell of sex loiters in the room, no doubt. And you silently thank that famous engineer for inventing the air conditioner, the one that sat in the window to your right - you’re positive the both of you will rush straight to it after this intimacy ended.

Between grunts, Yoongi whispers profanities. Swearing under his breath and murmuring dirty words into the shell of your ear. “Did you like my fingers in you?” “Like this cock deep inside you?” “You feel fuckin’ fantastic.” “I want to bury myself inside this pussy every night.” “I love you.”

Each sentence fills your mind, swirling your emotions and hormones. It is hot. You sang back your appeals, smiled wide as he sends your body into pleasure.

“Flip.” You request, hauling Yoongi enough to make him roll with you.

You settle atop him, dick still very much intact inside your body. Yoongi gazes at you with hooded eyes, his hair fanning around his head. The beat of his heart matched the same pace as your own, both panting for oxygen and running with the enjoyment your bodies are experiencing.

Bouncing on him with what little strength you still have, you fuck yourself on his swollen cock while Yoongi’s hands are gripping your waist like a vice. The bed squeaks under your weight, his head bobs along with your ministrations, Yoongi’s jagged breath warns you that you’re doing exactly what his body wants.

“Babe, I’m…“

“Me too.” You gasp once his thumb locks onto your clit again, drawing figure-eights quickly. Your walls squeeze around his tender length, body jerking with each ambitious dive of his cock into your cervix.

Yoongi’s head tosses back, brows furrowed in concentration while his bottom lip traps itself between his set of teeth. The erratic moment of your body convulsing on top of him made him lose it – draining himself in the condom with lewd moans and nails digging into the flesh of your hips.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he chants with declaration. Mere seconds after his orgasm, you find your second one. A cry breaking free from your mouth, you rock yourself on his shaft throughout your fervent ride, arousal seeping all around his pubic hairs.

Leaning down, you kiss another between labored breaths, “Thank you so much.”

He snorts a laugh, holding you against his chest as his softening dick slips out from your spent hole. “You feel a bit better?”

“A lot better.”

As much as you love to cuddle against your boyfriend, the two of you became much more socially aware of how agonizingly sticky your bodies have become. Unenthusiastically, you peel yourself off the top of Yoongi, rolling yourself to your back. You stare senselessly at the air conditioner that mocks you, frowning about how far of reach it is from the bedside.

“You think if we turn it on full blast, by the time we’re done with a shower it will be super cold in here?” Yoongi asks, sitting himself to the edge of the bed to carefully yank off the condom without spilling his seed. He looks over his shoulder to you, back and buttcrack exposed to your view and you couldn’t help but smirk fondly at him.

“God, I hope so. I feel so disgusting right now.”

Giving yourself enough recuperation time, the two of you finally lift yourselves off the bed, turn on the air conditioner and work your way to the bathroom. The brisk shower remains lukewarm, the sticky sweat washes away with soap sudz and water. Your boyfriend and you came back to a frigid bedroom, a perfect temperature to slink bodies together and canoodle another under the comfort of a blanket for the rest of the night.

Rejuvenation at its finest, indeed.

Now that it’s Friday - a day before your tournament - you join the group along with the festivities taking hold at the beach front. You share a way-too-sweet customized coffee, some delicious chocolate dipped churros and apple fritters with Yoongi. Battle Haru and Hoseok with the water-shooting contest and also were able to pick out a few hand-made beaded bracelets to gift to your entire party.

Jungkook and Yoongi went head to head at being the winner with the highest score on the dunk tank, earning one of the larger stuffed purple koalas. To your amusement, and Jungkook’s ego, he gifts you the prize after rubbing his victory in Yoongi’s face.

“He does it on purpose, Yoongi.” your arm linking around his, watching Hoseok share a singular strawberry malt with Haru between two straws. A corny-coupley thing that you find cute.

Yoongi tips his hat forward, rubbing his nose quickly to act as if he wasn’t bothered. “I let him win that.”

“Right,” you peck his shoulder with a kiss. “You reacting the way you do only compels him to continue.”

“Yeah, one day he’s going to get it,” he pouts, turning over to look at you with a concerned look. “Can’t have him thinking he has any chance.”

You bite back a smile, squeezing his arm tighter to your body. “Never. Kook isn’t my type.”

“And what is?”

“You,” you coo, grabbing hold of Yoongi for a kiss now to his lips. “Your voice, eyes, that gummy smile of yours.”

“Irrelevant.” Yoongi smirks, nudging you forward toward a booth with swinging basketball hoops.

“That deep sexy voice of yours, especially in the mornings when I wake up next to you.” You continued to list more things off despite Yoongi’s pleas for you to stop. “I even have a thing for…” you look down his front with a playful smile, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

“Enough, enough!” he laughs, shaking his head at your ridiculousness.

Even though from the outside it never seems like Yoongi enjoys attention, compliments, or too many loads of love - you know he appreciates everything positive you say about him.

“But, what I like most,” Yoongi pays a staff member a few dollars for his shot at the game. You watch his first throw, sinking the ball straight into the moving basket that is purposely bent to rig the game. “The way you are very genuine about everything. You wear your heart on your sleeve. How you can’t hide your fond expressions when someone you care for does something endearing. When you shy away from affection but secretly crave it.”

Yoongi turns his head to look you in the eyes, even with puzzlement dressing his soft face you can see the wonder lurking in his sharp eyes. He shuffles his basketball between his hands anxiously, anticipating your next words.

“You have one of the most kindest of hearts I have ever had the privilege of getting to know. And I love you.”

With another flick of his wrist his ball goes to the air, bouncing against the backboard of the moving basket and lulls itself into the hoop. You see the bob of his Adam's apple, a slight furrow of his brow, but what you can’t realize is how your words truly affect him. You live with the comfort knowing that Yoongi has a hard way of expressing his emotions, the thoughts in his mind that race in and out can not form coherent sentences to explain what he is feeling.

Managing to score four out of the five throws, Yoongi alternatively wins a prize from the top shelf. His hand skims the small of your back, drawing you closer to his side as he requests you to pick one to your liking. You point at a stuffed flamingo, excitement runs through you when the item turns out much more softer to the touch than what it looks like - much like your boyfriend who now stares down at you with precaution.

“I love you, too.” he mutters, a small coy smile spreading across his lips.

You had practiced one last time with Maggie before the tournament day, during which Yoongi and Hoseok managed to snag in more volleyball learning without your notice. Even this time they had Haru and Jungkook to help with learning, and surprisingly Yoongi had caught on to the game fairly fast. Even shocking Hoseok with the way Yoongi became a very strong setter with lack of experience. Something about Yoongi with his hands made everything come a bit natural.

You try - try - your best to go to bed at a decent hour that night, considering that you had to wake up and check-in to your tournament by eight in the morning, set up your canopy and figure out which court you’d be playing on. It was hard to fall asleep at a reasonable hour no thanks to Hoseok’s obnoxiously loud laughter and sputtering words that broke through even the heaviest set of walls. Not even the hush of the air conditioner blowing cold air on high could overcome the harsh vocals of tipsy Hoseok.

Thankfully, your boyfriend who checks on you a few times within the early night solves the problem of the loud outbursts emitting from the living area of the house. Mainly after the death glare you had shot him with only out of annoyance and a curse under your breath saying “i’m going to fuckin’ murder Hobi if he doesn’t shut the hell up.”

It was quiet after that and the moment your body found solitude to drift itself into slumber it was comforted by the warmth of Yoongi’s arm slinking around your waist, drawing your body against his as his warm breath fans out of his nose into the back of your neck.

Your eyes remain shut until the blurting noise from your cell phone awoken you in the morning.

Now you find yourself in your first match, first set against an opposing team. The air runs from the ocean, a cool breeze before the hot summer sun decides to warm up the sand below your feet. Pool play usually is hit or miss, sometimes a random good team would dominate the other teams in the pool, and luckily you were that very team.

As the day runs, both you and Maggie go against the other four teams - coming out on top in each match, besides one where the teams split wins. You’re feeling great, Maggie and you become a massive threat towards nearby courts, people knowing who may be the future competition once pool play is over and the winning teams advanced to the next level.

During the middle of your games, your party finally joined Maggie’s boyfriend under the tent, in favor to help support you to the fullest. It makes you happy to see your favorite humans watch you do well, a boost of confidence always spiking when you can hear the loudest cheers from the sideline knowing damn well it was your good friends rooting you on.

Tip-toeing along the hot sand side-by-side with Maggie, you run over to give Yoongi a quick hug as you collapse yourself on his seat. “Slept in later than expected?” You tease, noting the time on your watch.

Yoongi ticks his head towards the youngest who had found purchase in a lounge chair, beach blanket covering his body, “He got a bit more wasted than he expected. Took Hobi and I three different styles of waking his ass up.”

“And what was the solution?” You laugh with the twist of your water bottle cap, graciously taking a well deserved swig of fresh water.

“Titty-twisters.”

You hear a subtle groan from under the blanket of which Jungkook lays, earning a chuckle from the crowd around him.

“I see,” you snuggle yourself closer into Yoongi’s embrace. “Guess Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to dance with me tonight after the tourney...”

“Wait - no! I’m fine!” He jumps up, blanket falling off abruptly to unveil the round, red, puffy, sleepless eyes of Jungkook. They wince due to the sunlight bouncing off the surroundings, hair array every way possible. “We’re dancing!”

“Get more rest and some tylenol in you before even thinking about going to the bar tonight.” You scold, tossing him a random snack from the side pocket of your duffle bag. “And start eating some non-greasy things.”

Both Maggie and you had finished your lengthy beach tournament; ending up losing in the finals against one of the recurring top teams known to play at this competition. It was close of course, only losing by a few point differentials but it didn’t matter to either one of you at that point in the day because second place has been the farthest the two of you ever had come in the years of playing in this tournament. After surpassing through the semifinals, the two of you were content with whichever outcome you had coming.

And hey, you guys still won some cash prizes for being in second seat!

After packing up your canopy, riding back to your temporary vacation home to wash up and take a small nap before heading out for the night, you had promised the entire group that you’d take care of tonight's bill and urged the drinkers to go buckwild.

Poseidon’s pub and nightclub is one of the top hotspots in this area, great live bands every weekend with two different decks and three separate bars, this establishment was your top priority to show off to your friends. By the time your party shows up to the club it’s blasting out loud pop music and flashing lights all around.

Jungkook, who had slept off his previous night’s hangover, has been completely recuperated and is ready for another night of binge drinking. Hoseok and Haru were first at the nearest bar, darting over to grab a handful of shots to start up the night with courtesy of handing over your card to the bartender for the tab. Yoongi holds you close throughout the waves of bodies dancing and lingering around the floor, your eyes set to your phone as you text Maggie that you had arrived and hope to see her - eventually.

It wasn’t long until everyone found their inspiration to party, exhaustion aside and now jitters coursing through your body like fireworks, perhaps it was thanks to the alcohol sinking into your system. Bioluminescence lights glisten off the top of your boyfriend's hair in which you run your fingers through, reflecting off just how it did to everyones; his dark sharp-cut eyes even darker with the lighting around him. He smells of fresh aftershave, a minty aroma tingling your nose as you drive your face into the crook of his neck.

You two enjoy a slow grind to the current song, swinging your hips in sync with another’s, hands never daring to leave each other’s body. Yoongi milked his beers after the first round of shots, tried claiming that liquor before beer you’re in the clear, until Jungkook slides the two of you each a larger drink; a bright red concoction of something massively fruity with a single cherry topping above the ice.

“It’s called the Red Devil! Haru had one, I had one, now it’s your turn! It’s so good!” Jungkook yells above the music between the two of you, slinking his body against Yoongi and you due to the small areas between other bodies. Jungkook practically shoves a glass into your lips, the other in front of Yoongi’s chest, forcing the two of you to separate enough to clutch each glass.

“It smells like shit.” Yoongi grimaces, mouth turning downwards into a harsh frown.

You on the other hand, have no choice but to taste the alcoholic drink because of the clink of the glass against your teeth. It was sweet at first, an indistinctive flavor touching your tongue, causing you to inspect the red liquid as you ponder. Until you see the wide smile from Jungkook, teeth beaming towards you with a mischievous grin. That’s when you notice the tang of flavor spikes, an after taste of cinnamon practically burning its way down your esophagus.

Coughing, you push the glass back to Jungkook, eyes slightly watering from the sudden flavor. “Oh god, you know I can’t handle spicy shit. That thing is vile!”

“It’s called Red Devil for a reason!” He laughs, taking the drink back and gulping down a portion of it. At this point Jungkook is going to revisit another nasty hangover in the morning, but you can’t blame him for enjoying his vacation to the fullest.

Yoongi pushes the glass back to Jungkook, “Give it to Hobi, I'm not drinking this.”

Infuriating enough, the youngest pushes the glass back, “you give it to him. It’s about time I get my dance with Y/n anyways. You’ve been hogging her all night.”

“She’s my girlfriend!”

It’s possible that the larger crowd and uncountable ounces of alcohol that Jungkook has taken, causes him to be much more bolder, brasher than usual. He ignores the glare Yoongi sends his way, especially when Jungkook steps between the two of you; back now facing Yoongi.

You raise your eyebrows at Yoongi, shrugging into your sentence, “Just one song. I’ll come right back to you. I did promise him I'd dance with him.”

Yoongi doesn’t stay mad too long, but now both of his hands occupy glasses of an unfavorable drink as he walks away to search for Hoseok. He knows Jungkook is just going to pester them the rest of the night if he refuses to allow it and a dance isn’t harmful at all. Even when he perches himself against the wall besides Hoseok and Haru, eyes watching you stare back at him with a smile.

“You going to pick up any of these people around us?” You question Jungkook who gyrates around you to the new upbeat flow of music. It’s more cluby now, the song switches between motions of fast pace and a slow break down during the chorus, Jungkook perfectly matching the synergy of the music. You glance over at Yoongi a handful of times, shaking your head at Jungkook’s perky dance moves and laughing with the amusement that dresses his face.

“Actually, I have one coming back with us already - if that’s cool.” Jungkook swings your body around, his front now facing your back. He places his chin on your shoulder as he scans the bodies dancing around. “Long black hair, mini skirt, nine o’clock.”

“Oh, i’m impressed, you’re a fast worker.” You laugh, spinning back around in place. You push Jungkook softly against his chest, “I expect you to go dance with them instead of me.”

Jungkook pouts, hair falling short in front of his eyes from bopping his head, “but I have a vendetta with Yoongi, gotta get in my daily annoyance. Plus you’re fun to dance with.”

“You really do enjoy messing with him.”

Jungkook nods excitedly, eyes scanning the perimeter until he spots the dark haired elder leaning against the wall staring straight back at him. He takes both of your hands in his, raises them up to make kissy noises against each of your knuckles as he laughs along with you. The second Yoongi pushes himself off the wall, Jungkook snaps his head back towards you, bids you farwell and rushes himself through the crowd towards his new acquaintance.

You match Yoongi’s trudges, meeting up with him halfway before he could go any further towards Jungkook. By the look on his face you can tell he was ready to show his dongsaeng who’s boss.

“Ya know, you’re kind of cute when you get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” Yoongi rebukes.

“Are you mad?”

Looking over Yoongi’s features, his posture remained relaxed but his eyes looked like they were burning holes into the back of Jungkook’s head. “Nah. I just think Jungkook wants to play. It’s funny, honestly. Just don’t tell him that. I’ll just let him believe that i’m mad.”

His hands lock themselves around your waist, drawing you in closer to his frame. “If anything,” Yoongi latches his lips to yours, “he’s the one who’s jealous. He can’t have you.”

Soft moans escape through Yoongi’s parted mouth, lips slightly trembling with pleasure building up within his body. You hollow your mouth as much as possible, dipping your head as far down as you could take him before your gag reflex threatens to betray you. Saliva accumulated around the base of his cock, your free hand wraps around the skin you couldn’t fit inside of your mouth just to help add sensations to his entire length.

It was early, you can see the subtle light leaking through the crack of the curtains of your room; light chirping of seagulls out in the distance along with the winds banging against the chimes outside on the deck. Yoongi’s hand assists with holding your hair up as your head towers his cock, bobbing it up and down beneath the covers.

The two of you did sleep quite well once you got home, even managing to ignore the random bumps and noises coming out of Jungkook’s neighboring room - he did end up taking that random person back home.

Though you couldn’t get as drunk as you’d like between the tiredness your body has already undergone, holding Haru’s hair back from puking her stomach out in the club’s bathroom and dealing with a much more drunken Yoongi. Once you rallied up your troops you closed your tab, called a cab and headed home for the night.

“S-suck harder.” Yoongi begs you in a whisper, cock twitching inside your mouth.

You slurp, hard, on your next drag up his length. Yoongi inhales sharply, fist tightening within your hair and hips bucking up to chase your mouth. He was coming close to unfolding himself into you, visions of dressing your mouth with his white hot cum rushing through his mind.

By introducing your free hand to his balls you earn a low guttural groan from Yoongi. Massaging them gently within your palm as you tease your tongue right under the head of his dick. He chokes on his words, hand abruptly forcing your head down to take his cock deeper as he empties himself deep in your throat.

After swallowing what you can, you wipe your lips off with the back of your hand; other hand lazily tugging Yoongi’s softening cock. You smile up at him.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, voice croaky.

He was half asleep when you began to suck your boyfriend off but now you were sure he had become wide awake.

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

“I can’t complain.” He smiles lazily, eyes closing as he embraces his post orgasm state.

Climbing up the side of his body, you card yourself into his arm as you snuggle closer with the blanket. Yoongi looks so at ease with the moment even with the disheveled bed head he’s rocking and puffy cheeks.

His hand slowly rubs against your back in a soothing pattern, fingers featherlight with each tender stroke.

“Do you want me to make you some coffee?” You offer, knowing well that Yoongi needed some substance other than alcohol to enter his system.

Yoongi shakes his head, deciding to curl himself up against you instead, “No, not right now. I just want to stay like this.”

You weren’t sure how long the two of you remained in each other's embrace, Yoongi quickly fell back asleep against you. The soft pitter-patters of feet outside your room notified you that somebody - probably Hoseok - was up and shuffling his way to the kitchen. Silently, you slip yourself out of Yoongi’s arms and throw on a pair of shorts so you weren’t walking around in just a shirt and underwear.

“Morning,” you chirp as you enter the kitchen, seeing Hoseok staring at the coffee machine as it drains itself into his awaiting mug. He grumbles his acknowledgment, clearly a bit cranky.

“Jungkook keep you up?”

“No.” Hoseok sighs, rubbing his hands over his sleep-crusted eyes, “Haru wouldn’t stop crying. She kept saying how sorry she was for throwing up and was worried that she would spend the entire day in bed with a hangover.”

You voice an ‘oh’ as you place your own mug to the coffee machine after Hoseok takes his in hand, wrapping around the island counter to sit on one of the stools.

“What time did you manage to sleep?”

“Six.”

The automatic clock hung on the kitchen wall and flashed a few minutes after eight. You clench your teeth together and you see Hoseok nod in affirmation. “Yeah.”

You pat Hoseok on the back after grabbing your fresh coffee before shagging his hair up, “Try to get a nap sometime today. I think Jungkook wanted to go to the beach again after hitting up a few shops, you’re more than welcome to come along.”

“I had already told Yoongi I'd help him with something but we’ll meet you guys at the beach!”

Before leaving to go back to your room and hand over the cup of coffee to Yoongi, you give Hoseok a confused look. He avoids your eyes, averting his own to the magazines scattered around the counter.

“You literally have twenty minutes before Y/n comes back here with Jungkook. He’s been trying to stall her as much as possible.” Hoseok warns Yoongi as he stomps his way through the sand and back to the court, hands rubbing the extra sun-screen across his skin.

“I shouldn’t have drank so much last night.” Yoongi frowns at the volleyball in his hands; he stands at one endline and waits for Hoseok to walk on the court on the other side.

Haru, who also is suffering from too much intoxication, holds her own as a setter between the two courts, ducking herself beneath the net everytime the ball gets sent over. As long as Yoongi and Hoseok maintained control of the ball they could pass it to her zone so she didn’t have to do as much work.

They play a game, not massively competitive, but enough to get warmed up before you come back for Yoongi’s surprise. He has worked incredibly hard in secrecy. Also, Hoseok proved himself as a decent volleyball coach in the making.

“Burn it off. I saw you chug a good amount of water already. Work through it and you’ll sober up.”

“I just don’t want to be a complete ass when I play with her.” The sun beams down hard from above; Yoongi’s hat, arms, and feet burn from the contact of the extra exposure. He made sure to apply his own sunscreen at least three separate times ever since he’s been outside, and as much as he loathes the heat and unbearable humidity, he still chooses to play the sport you love most.

Yoongi serves the ball enough to lollipop the ball over the net in Hoseok’s vicinity. They practice, all three of them, enough to rally the volleyball around. Yoongi still has his moments where he refuses to bend his knees for a pass, insisting that the ball was ‘too high’ for his liking. But what surprises Hoseok the most is Yoongi’s ability to jump fairly high in the sand, it must be the basketball skills that help him perform much better.

In the middle of a play the group hears a yell from afar. As they turn, they see Jungkook waving his hands in the air with a cheerful smile in the distance, bags in each hand swing aimlessly with his movements. “We’re here!” he screams across the beach, ignoring all the curious bystander’s stares.

You trail behind Jungkook, tugging the cooler on wheels behind you. Even as you walk towards the courts, your head tilts left and right like a puppy trying to understand what you think you had just seen. Did you see what you think your eyes saw? Is your boyfriend standing in the open sun, on a volleyball court, with a volleyball in his hands right now?

“What are you doing?” You question Yoongi as you step closer, plopping down the cooler under the pitched tent. You’re befuddled, looking between Haru, Hoseok and Yoongi as you try to process any ideas on what is actually going on.

“I wanted to surprise you.” Yoongi, who now seems incredibly embarrassed with his hand rubbing the back of his neck, spoke softly towards you.

You smirk with joy, touched that Yoongi has gone out of his way, out of his comfort, to surprise you with a sweet gesture. “Where did you? How? When did you learn?”

“Hobi’s been helping me a little, i’m not great, but i’m alright.”

Running over to hug your boyfriend, you giggle into his chest. “This is the cutest thing, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Say ‘Heads or Tails’.”

“What?” You turn to look at Jungkook who holds a coin in his hand, prepping it to flip in the air.

“You and Yoongi verses Hobi and I.” He smiles wide, tossing the coin up high into the air. “Call it!”

In unison both Yoongi and you declare tails, and as the coin is caught and flipped in Jungkook’s hand, it reveals that very end.

“We’ll take recieve.” You chime in, excited with the way Yoongi challenges Jungkook with playful banter.

Enthusiastically, the groups plant themselves on opposite sides. Whispering small strategies and goals. You tell Yoongi to aim for Hoseok, keep it away from Jungkook, mainly because Jungkook was the stronger hitter of the two. Haru sat in the shade, choosing to be the referee and scorekeeper.

The game started off light, a few points given to another over silly mistakes and miscommunications. Yoongi shys away from the ball most of the time, thinking you should take most balls because of your experience and that you were generally better at the game. If it wasn’t for you yanking his arm to make him snap out of whatever trance he was in, he’d probably end up letting a ball drop two feet in front of him.

He was nervous after all, he wants to play well.

It wasn’t until Hoseok started scuffing up some small trash-talk through the net, more like a taunt towards Yoongi, a tactic to see if Yoongi would step up his game.

And it was working.

Especially after Hoseok discusses openly how Yoongi only does well when he’s being bossed around. A small inside joke only the two of the men understood. But what had tilted Yoongi the most was once Jungkook pitched in, adding his own form of toxicity in the mix. Which they all knew would be one thing… using you as leverage to piss Yoongi off.

“Y/n and I had so much fun earlier today. We shared some snacks together, went in a few clothing stores where Y/n tried on a few nice pieces…”

You roll your eyes, sighing as you look over to Yoongi who stares straight into Jungkook. “Here we go again,” you mutter to yourself.

The next play felt more intense, you even noticed Yoongi stepping closer towards you to pick up the ball more than normal. He wants the ball, he wants to do something with it.

Yoongi continuously aimed his hits towards Hoseok, nothing too hard, but it was noticeable how he was favoring his spikes towards his roommate. That alone motivated Jungkook to tease Yoongi some more, “Can’t hit at me now? Are you scared or something?”

The fun laughs and giggles turned into grunts and pants, both you and Yoongi work hard on your side of the court, and you love every second of the heated game that blazed along the summer heat. Jungkook manages to swing very hard, directing his spike right in front of you, but you had just enough time to stick your arm out and pass the ball up before it lands.

Yoongi rushes over, a dive with his foot, kicking the ball up high enough for you to pass the ball deep into Jungkook’s corner. The youngest scurries himself quickly across the sand, almost colliding with Hoseok in the process. He saves the ball from landing, freeballing it back over to Yoongi’s area.

“Go outside!” You yell towards Yoongi after he passes the ball high enough for you to square yourself up by the net.

The pass, the set, the entire momentum of the play came out pristine and this was the golden opportunity for Yoongi to show off his skills. Jungkook sees the chance Yoongi is about to make and runs himself up to the net and readying himself to block Yoongi’s oncoming hit as Hoseok adjusts his positioning in the back court.

Both men jump, Yoongi winding his arm back to fling it forward, snapping his wrist on top of the ball the moment his hand came in contact with it. He angles his swing, cutting the direction of the ball to the open area just inside the ten-foot line that remained uncovered.

In the process of the hit, Jungkook leaps himself up, arms raised high in an attempt to block the spike. He does manage to block the direct path of the volleyball… but with his face instead.

The volleyball smacks hard into Jungkook’s face, cutting straight down into his side of the net as Jungkook stumbles back to save the ball from completely falling, but fails as he lands on the ground. His nose quickly turns red from impact, scrunching his face as his hands cover the sore appendage.

Both you and Hoseok sputter out words, asking Jungkook if he’s alright as he locks eyes with Yoongi. Yoongi stands stunned at the incident, eyes wide and mouth gaping as Jungkook smiles back at him after making sure his nose wasn’t bleeding.

“Guess I deserve that, huh?”

Yoongi shrugs, holding his hand out for Jungkook to help lift himself up, “Yeah, probably.” The two of them laugh it off, shaking the sand from their bodies.

Before ending the game and walking back to the shade of the tent, Yoongi pulls you in for a hug, kissing your temple. “Told you he was gonna get it.”

“Yoongi!” you scold with a laugh, shaking your head in disapproval yet he knows you find it enjoyable.

#houseofddaeng #ficswithluv #btsbookclub #bangtanhq #magicshopnet #networkbangtan #suganetwork #armysource #bangtanarmynet #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #suga #bts fanfic #one shot #kimtaehyunq #cut shot

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spookyold-saintjm · 5 years ago

Text

Pieces of You

Mayor Damien x reader

| Part Two | | Part Three |

Warnings: mild language and sexual themes/implied smut (gender neutral)

Word Count: 1,810

Series Summary: Damien is your world, and you are his light. One night, just shy of the long-awaited evening on which he’s planned to ask for your hand in marriage, he goes out for a poker night reunion with old friends at the Markiplier manor. He doesn’t come back.

a/n: I am SO incredibly excited to finally get started on this! It’s an idea I’ve had since long before I started writing again, and it’s about time I put it down into words. Thanks to everyone who encouraged me to post this! The first chapter is soft but we all know where it goes from here...

Damien is so very near and dear to my heart so please let me know your thoughts! Hope you enjoy reading. x

“When someone dies, you can mourn. It’s so much harder when someone just disappears.”

—

Damien kept the ring in his office.

Not because he thought you were nosy and went through his things, but because he was worried he would get so caught up in a moment with you that he would end up giving it to you before the night he’d been so meticulously planning for weeks on weeks.

Damien had known he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you for some time. He was the sort that had friends in every circle, got invited to all the parties in college (and attended most of them), and as he somewhat accidentally stumbled into a political career, became a prominent guest or host of more events than he could ever count.

Early on in this whirlwind his life had turned into over the last several years, he had met you. At one of said college parties, actually. Your meeting may or may not have been orchestrated by a certain aspiring actor that you both had befriended in separate undergrad courses, who had decided on his own accord that you were a clear match.

He was right, of course, but it took some time for Damien to prove himself to you. He was foolishly head-over-heels for you, but you were far more focused on your career path, and perhaps eventually a serious relationship, than you were with a boy who didn’t seem interested in anything more than blowing through his courses and finding his next opportunity for a wild night with his friends.

His kind eyes, witty sense of humor, and devilishly charming smile be damned.

When you finally resigned to the first date, and teasingly confessed to him that weekend at a bar across from campus that you’d consider a second date if he made a deal with you to take his studies more seriously…well, he didn’t fuck around. Why would he? He was enamored with you, had decided from day one that he’d give you the world and then some if you asked for it.

Damien was determined to prove himself to you. So a second date turned into a third, a fourth, and countless more. The brilliant man that you knew had been hiding under all of the fun and games came to light. Not that he lost that side of himself; no chance in hell. When the two of you weren’t side-by-side in the library working on your respective projects or gathered around a table with colleagues energetically discussing the latest elections and policies, he was taking you out for late nights of dancing to your favorite music under the stars or sneaking you into his apartment to watch movies and cram in a make-out session before his roommates came home. You'd caved. You’d caved hard.

You came to realize Damien was all you could have asked for and more, and he would have easily said the same of you. You stuck together through the years of school left ahead of you and beyond, which eventually led to your position as a chief assistant in the District Attorney’s Office, and Damien’s skyrocket to the role of Mayor in the building right across the street.

Which was where you were headed that particular afternoon after saying goodbye to your coworkers for the day. After closing a particular case that the office had been plagued with for the last few weeks, the DA sent everyone in the office home for an evening to finally get some much-needed rest.

You cheerfully exchanged greetings with those you knew lingering in the lobby and the front desk and immediately let into the hallway that led to Damien’s office. As you approached, you could hear an exchange of two deep voices, but they immediately clipped to complete silence when you lightly knocked three times on Damien’s office door.

There was a sound of brief shuffling, quickly followed by Damien’s call to come in. You slowly opened the door, smiling at the two men standing behind the desk in the far side of the room.

“Detective! Nice to see you.” You greeted Abe first, stepping further into the room. The detective met you halfway, shaking your hand and nodding politely back at you.

“You too, y/n,” His smile a little too enthusiastic. He jerked this thumb behind him, and you briefly flicked your eyes toward Damien hastily shuffling pens and papers around in his desk drawer before detective spoke again. “Our lovely Mayor here was just telling me about his latest project—”

Damien had made his way around the desk by then, and swiftly clapped his hand atop Abe’s shoulder as he came up behind him.

“Yes, Detective! And I’m happy to discuss more later, if you’d like.” You didn’t miss the emphasis layering a couple of their words, but you didn’t pay it much mind; Damien was always up to some sort of troublemaking within the office, good-natured of course, but nevertheless enough to make at least a couple members of the staff want to pull their hair out at any given time. His defense was, naturally, that he didn’t want anyone to get bored. Knowing him, there was no danger of that any time soon.

You rolled your eyes as your grin widened once Damien stepped around Abe, his hand sliding off the detective's shoulder and dropping to your waist to pull you in for a quick peck on the lips.

“Darling, do you mind swinging by my mailbox before we head home? There’s a couple things I need to finish up here, and I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

You lightly patted his cheek. “Of course, love. I’ll see you in a bit.”

You turned to leave after exchanging departing words with the detective, not missing the sound of Abe’s amused muttering and Damien’s shushing response as the door clicked shut behind you.

Boys, you sighed.

—

Damien’s stuttered sigh was heavy in your ear just before he pulled himself away from you. He fell onto his back at your side, and you were quick to collapse beside him shortly after, your head resting atop his bare, sweat-slicked chest.

There were no words, at least not for a while; only the mingling of your panting breaths and Damein’s gentle kisses to your forehead, your cheek, and finally your lips as you propped yourself up with your forearm so that you could see him face-to-face.

“Shower?” he asked softly, but even in the dim light of your shared bedroom you could see the devilish glint in his eyes as he stared up at you.

Your sigh was dripping with sarcastic amusement as you ducked your head down into the crook of his neck. “You’re ridiculous.”

You laid your palm flat on his chest, fingers splaying outward, lingering on the feel of his skin beneath your hand. Damien’s own hand reached to fall atop yours, the weight a reminder that he was yours, only yours. He gave your hand a slight affectionate squeeze as the fingers of his other hand found themselves weaving in and out of your disheveled hair.

“Can you blame me? You’ve been up all night every night for the last two weeks working on that case.” He brought your hand to his lips to feather light kisses onto your knuckles. “I’ve missed you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the soft warmth of the love between you radiating through the room and wrapping around you much like the now-tangled mess of sheets on the bed.

“I’ve missed you too, Dames.”

He let out a breathy laugh at the nickname that you’d given him years ago. A name reserved for only your use; anyone in the office caught teasingly using it, to his face or otherwise, was in for a death stare and a few choice words from the Mayor himself.

You laid in a contented silence for a while longer, limbs again intertwining as you embraced him and the opportunity to simply be together in a rare, quiet moment in the midst of your ever-increasing list of cases and the upcoming elections. You let the sound of his now-steadied breathing, the feeling of his chest rise and fall beneath your head, take the place of the million other things that ran through your brain on a constant loop; at the end of the day, Damien was your constant, your anchor. You couldn’t imagine life without him.

You were much more reserved and hesitant with your words than Damien, however; he would say the same things back to you and more every moment of every day if he could.

Which, now that you thought about it, made it odd that he was suddenly silent.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you softly stated, your eyes slowly opening again.

Damien’s had never closed. He was lost deep in his thoughts, in the spiral that had overtaken him so often lately: about the ring hidden away in his desk drawer back at his office, the private dinner that he’d made reservations for months ago at the most sought-after restaurant in the city, the outfit he’d bought for you to wear that night that you’d been eyeing for some time but couldn’t justify buying, now tucked away deep in his side of the closet where you’d never even think to look.

Mostly he thought about the moment when he would ask you to be a part of his life forever. When he would ask you to stick with him through the rest of his career and his life beyond, to wake up every morning by his side, to raise a house full of bright-eyed and brilliant children together, to grow old with him…

He knew you would say yes...or, at least, hoped. Abe was quick to shut down his doubts earlier that afternoon when he’d let him in on his plans to propose to you. But regardless, he couldn’t keep his stomach from turning at the thought. He’d never been more terrified, but ready for, anything in his life. And the day was drawing close.

Damien’s fingers trailed along your arm as he eventually answered you. “Just thinking about that shower we could be taking right now.”

He was quick to then grasp your arms and flip you over, forcing you to let out a high-pitched yelp followed by giggling as his body then hovered over yours. He chuckled back at you as you teasingly smacked him on the shoulder, but the both of you fell silent again as your lips met for a slow, lazy kiss.

When your lips eventually parted, the fluttering in your chest had picked up again and Damien’s grasp had drifted from your arms down to your hips. Your eyes met only for a brief second before you were both on your feet, nearly knocking over every piece of furniture in your path as you made your way to the shower.

| Part Two |

—

tag list: @aheistwithyaboi @dapper-comedy @pandacookieowo @jennabonenna @nightfuryobsessed @a-okay-rj (If I tagged you, you probably expressed interest in this when I posted about it a while ago...but I don’t wanna bother you in the future if it’s not necessary so please let me know if you’d like to be added to the permanent list!)

gif source: @darkipliers

quote source: @elfinprompts

#fic: pieces of you #mayor damien x reader #pieces of you #damien x reader #mayor damien #wkm #who killed markiplier

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acdeaky · 5 years ago

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london in winter

warning: fluff, dialogue heavy at parts

note: happy secret santa @anotherhystericalqueen and merry christmas! i am so so happy with this and i hope you enjoy it! mwah 💋

word count: 2.3K

at the beginning of every person’s life, their skin is untainted. the clean flesh that covers their body is yet to be graffitied by the hopes of love and forever with a soulmate. children grow up learning the stories of their parents and grandparents, their meetings and the day they met. even before they knew the name of their soulmates, children were dreaming of the day they would meet the person they were meant to be with for the rest of their lives. many were excited, others nervous about who it could be. but they all went about their lives without worrying too much, waiting until the day when their countdown begins.

the tattoos appear around age 13; unlucky for some, others not so much. it’s like a game of figuring out who’s soulmate is who’s. at 13, there’s a limited amount of people who it could be, so finding your soulmate at the same school was rare. but people still found enjoyment in the subject. teasing their friends about the name of their soulmate even though they knew that it wasn’t anyone they actually knew at that moment in time.

a name and a countdown is what covers everyone’s right wrist. seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and even years. it’s the one thing that’s always on everyone’s mind: who’s mine?

it was september 21st 1996 when joe mazzello’s wrist was littered with the name Y/N and a countdown which wouldn't expired for another 23 years. he remembers his older sister and younger brother begging him to show them his wrist. mary had already experienced the excitement of the tattoo and has showed his friends as soon as possible, john was yet to experience that. but joe couldn't bring himself to show his family the thing he should have been excited about.

he tried to keep it quiet throughout the years, but people caught sight of it - friends, family and fans - but when asked about it, joe kept quiet and just shrugged it off. there was no reason that his friends and family could think of as to why joe was secretive about it. unknown to anyone but him, joe was embarrassed; embarrassed about meeting his soulmate at the age of 36, even when he knew there were people who had to wait longer than him.

that day where he saw he only had a few hours until he met his soulmate was a day he had waited long for. images and thoughts of what she looked like filled his mind as he tried to go about his day as normal.

but things don't happen like that.

it was 25th february 1998 when Y/N L/N’s wrist was littered with the name joe and a countdown which wouldn't expire for another 21, almost 22, years. she remembers her friends the countdown regardless of how long away it seemed. all of her friends has already gotten theirs; some where short and some were a bit longer, but her’s was the longest. that didn't matter to her. the excitement of knowing that someone out there was made for her was enough.

she didn't keep it quiet throughout the years; everyone she met was asked about their name and countdown and her’s was shown to them. the joy on her face when she spoke of the ‘joe’ who she was yet to meet brought a smile onto anyone else’s face. unknown to anyone but her, Y/N was nervous; nervous about meeting her soulmate who she had dreamt of since her 13th birthday, even when she knew there was nothing to be worried about.

the day where she saw she only had a few hours until she met her soulmate was a day she had waited long for. the nerves she had once felt had turned into excitement and she struggled to go about her day as normal.

but things don't happen like that.

00:28:03

london in winter is something that deserves to be seen by the world. the way the blanket of snow lightly covers place from big ben to the london eye, the houses of parliament to buckingham palace; nowhere is safe from the wrath of winter in england. the majority of the cold weather is fought by pedestrians cowering in warm buildings, cups of coffee or tea in their hands, warming themselves on the inside and outside.

hats, gloves and scarfs are removed as soon as the blast of warm air from inside the shops hits shivering bodies, Y/N’s being one of them. as she walked into her local coffee shop to get her usual breakfast, things seemed like usual; the regular barista was behind the counter, the man three floors down from her was doing his morning work in his usual corner, the line was two people long like it usually is on a saturday morning. as much as her excitement crept up on her, and as much as she thought her day wouldn't be like this, things seemed normal.

too normal.

honestly, Y/N was just glad to be able to get her breakfast quickly and sit in her usual seat. still bundled up in her coat and scarf, she looked out of the large front window to gaze at the snow which fell gently onto the streets of london and the surface of the thames. almost as quickly as she started, her breakfast was finished. she waved goodbye to the barista and stepped out into the cool air.

it was refreshing for her cheeks, too warm from the heating of the coffee shop and ready for the harsh winter weather again. like usual on her saturday, Y/N walked through the backstreets she knew so easily and ended up at parliament square garden. a short walk over westminster bridge would lead her back around to her apartment building.

00:51:46

anticipating the british winter was something that all failed to do. somedays it would be cold in the morning, but grow warmer as the day went on. somedays it would be warm in the morning, but grow colder as the day went by. other days it was just down right cold. today was one of those days, but joe had failed to listen to the advice of his two best friends and had opted out of wearing gloves and a scarf saying “i’ll be fine, it can't be that cold”. but how wrong he was.

joe ended up taking refuge in a bustling starbucks where about a dozen other people had the same idea as him; getting a coffee to warm them up on the inside and the outside. he felt like he had been there, waiting in line, for hours (it was only 15 minutes), but had finally gotten his coffee, added what he liked and had found a lone seat towards the front of the shop. it gave the perfect few of the small part of london he was in. as he watched the snow fall onto the streets, he thought of california, of new york, of home, wherever that may be. this weather was different to anything else, it was unusual.

when he woke up this morning, joe didn't think he would be sat freezing in a starbucks alone. if anything, he had hoped to be there with his soulmate later on in the day. he definitely didn't plan to be as cold as he was and definitely didn't think he would have to take refuge in a coffee shop.

he made a mental note to listen to ben and gwil more often.

once his coffee was drunk and he had warmed up significantly, joe made his way back into the cold and continued down the streets of london which weren't exactly familiar to him. he recognised a few landmarks here and there, but nothing told him where he was. after walking on further, he reached the jubilee gardens (which he only recognised due to ben talking about the london eye being near them). having a sense of surroundings, joe walked along the bank of the thames, watching the london eye go around slowly as he passed.

00:13:19

westminster bridge brought about the perfect viewing spot for the london eye, the houses of parliament and the hungerford bridge just further down the thames. amount the snow, ice and other pedestrians, Y/N stood leaning on the edge of the bridge, watching the snow fall and the world go by around her. the calmness of her day and the weather made her forget all about her soulmate. the closeness of the time to their meet, the seconds ticking by, but no care was given in that moment; her view couldn't be more picturesque if it tried.

00:06:27

new boots and ice were never a good match, but, like the rest of joe’s short day, things hadn't gone exactly to plan. as much as he tried not to slip, he felt like a deer walking for the first time as he gripped onto the side of the stairs, trying to survive before making into the top. once he did, he decided between venturing further into london or crossing the bridge to the right of him (only god knows what it was called in joe’s mind). the bridge seemed like the better option, rather than getting himself lost in the depths of london again.

joe stepped onto the bridge, his feet trodding in the snow as he managed to find patches where no ice could be seen. as he walked, he glanced at his surroundings, in absolute awe of london in winter. the snow settled on the thames and the paths gave a winter wonderland feel to streets. even though the day had been unusual, joe was glad that he refused the guidance of ben and gwil, happy that he found this himself-

“oh, my god, are you okay?” and suddenly, all joe was seeing was the sky. “let me help you.” was all he could hear as he tried to place what had happened.

“thanks.” he mumbled, brushing himself off and dusting his hair of snow. just as he brought his hand down, his coat sleeve had rolled up slightly.

00:00:00

“this will sound crazy, maybe or maybe not, but...are you Y/N?” she only nodded, slightly scared at how this strange man knew her name.

“i-i don’t know if i should answer that.”

“what about your wrist? what does it say?” joe. she knew, had it sketched into her mind as well as her wrist. joe. she had even worked out the day they would meet (and as it got closer, the time as well). joe. with her watch still at home and her phone in her pocket, she had forgotten that today was the day.

joe. her soulmate.

“it says joe.” she replied, pulling her coat sleeve up to show joe’s name and her finished countdown.

“and mine Y/N.” joe did the same, revealing his countdown and her name.

it was strange. she didn't think it would happen like this; her soulmate literally fell for her. well, not for her, behind her, but he still feel before he had even met her, and that was something she would remember to bring up later on.

“hi, joe,” she giggled, placing her hand in front of her for joe to shake. “how are you?”

“i'm good, thank you,” he took her hand and shook it gently, smiling at her. “and how are you?”

“i'm good,” they dropped each other’s hands and placed them into their coat pockets, the chilly breeze too harsh for their bare hands. “i can’t believe we've had to wait this long; 22 years has dragged on.”

“23 for me. well, 23 years and 3 months, but that's not important.”

“so you're a...september baby?”

“yeh, and you're...”

“a february baby, yeh. 25rd.”

“no way,” he smiled, an exasperated smile on his face, “i'm 21st.”

“that's basically the same date.” Y/N giggled again before smiling at joe.

honestly, she didn’t think he would be like this. charming? yes. funny? definitely. but joe? this joe? he’s better than what she expected. all she knew was that she couldn't wait to get to know him more.

“sorry, i was staring. and now i sound like a creep because i said i was staring. i'm sorry, i'm just happy this has finally happened.”

“it’s okay,” Y/N smiled and watched as the stress from joe’s face left him and a smile appeared instead. “did you wanna go somewhere? get out of the cold?”

“please,” he nodded, removing his hand from his pocket and allowing her to lead the way. “you first.” after mumbling a quick thanks, Y/N led joe back the way she came, starting up another conversation as they went.

and as the days went on, the weeks turned into months. winter turned into spring and a friendship turned into a relationship between Y/N and joe. it wasn’t too long after when joe asked her to be his, and it wasn't too long after that when they met each other’s family. the mazzellos fell in love with her - just like joe did - and they accepted her into the family quickly. they teased and taunted joe about being so embarrassed growing up, his worrying truly for nothing.

after that evening with his family, there was only one thing he was truly sure of: he loved Y/N.

TAGLIST: @never-kept-the-same-address @j0hn-deaky @sohoneyspreadyourwings @brian-maybe-not @deakysbabybooty @1001-yellow-daffodils @retromusicsalad @hardcoredisneynerd @painkiller80 @leatherjacketmazzello @scarecrowmax @mebeatlized @seesiderendezvous @alright-mrfahrenheit @someone-get-a-medic @miamideacon @chlobo6 @teenagepeterpan @spacedustmazzello @deakysgurl @forever-rogue @xcdelilahxc @keepsdrawing @igotsuckedintothevoid @soulexposed @supersonicfreddie @laedymoon @inthedayswhenlandswerefew @warriorteam1924 @painandpleasure86 @boomerangbassist @mamaskillerqueen

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello fic #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #bohemian rhapsody #secret santa #sohoneyspreadyourwings secret santa #anotherhystericalqueen #merry Christmas #joey mazzello #acdeaky

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heelsheadandstandardshigh · 7 years ago

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Opening Night - A Lawyered Ficlet (Chris Evans/OFC)

Author’s Notes: Thanks to the encouragement of some of my lovely readers, I finally took the plunge and let myself write a ficlet set in the Lawyered verse. Lawyered is hosted over at @chrisevans-sexualfrustrations and you can read the whole story here.

This takes place in present day (specifically, on March 1, 2018). I’m not sure whether it is actually going to be canon in the Lawyered verse and show up in the story down the road. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

[WARNING: Very mild Spoilers for Lobby Hero ahead. However, if you’ve read any reviews of the play or the NY Times profile about Chris, there is nothing in here you aren’t already aware of.]

With ten minutes until curtain, silence lingered in the dressing room as Chris sat on the tiny sofa with no other company but his thoughts. His parents and siblings had cleared out twenty minutes ago with many words of encouragement and ‘break a leg’s prior to their departure, though there was one person whose absence he experienced acutely while he struggled to calm his nerves.

Boston and its suburbs had always been Chris’s stomping grounds, but it was undeniable that New York City was Danielle’s. He felt it every time they walked down the street while carrying on a conversation, her steps carrying her to their destination as though she were operating on autopilot, deftly bobbing and weaving around the tourists. Everything about her screamed that she belonged.

And living in TriBeCa now? Well, that was a bit of a kick. It was almost serendipitous that he would wind up moving somewhere that had served as the backdrop for their first meeting and the deepening of their relationship, where Chris had irretrievably fallen in love with the blonde law student who looked at him and saw an out-of-towner in need of culinary recommendations, rather than the actor who usually wore the Captain America suit.

The time was rapidly approaching where he would don the cowl for the final time, yet there was so much opportunity ahead of it. He’d undoubtedly find it strange to see Sebastian or Anthony wield the shield, but he would be embarking on a new path of his own, too. The sprawling, albeit temporary TriBeCa loft had cemented recent discussions with his mother about maybe setting down some roots in the area because it had been increasingly difficult to spend large stretches of time with his girlfriend when her work load required late hours and put a damper on any flexibility to travel. While he loved the Boston house and seeing his family at his mom’s house fifteen minutes away, Danielle’s job was in New York City and looked to be for the foreseeable future. At some point, Chris would have to decide just how invested he was in their relationship because he knew she couldn’t be okay with living constantly apart during most of his downtime forever, even if she hadn’t voiced that opinion just yet.

He’d never forget her face when she told him that he was strongly considering the play and he would be required to live in Manhattan from the end of January through mid-May if he took the role. If Chris wasn’t entirely sold on the role of Bill before, the hope and sheer excitement in her eyes would have been the last push he needed.

Apartment hunting with her was an eye-opening experience. It wasn’t because he learned anything about her that he didn’t already know; her 3am Property Brothers marathons when she couldn’t turn her brain off enough to sleep were pretty legendary. Instead, it was the feeling of warmth that pooled in his stomach at the realization that they were partners in the search, looking for a home that would suit both of them, a space that blended their tastes and their needs together.

Their lives were more intertwined in TriBeCa than they’d ever been and with it came a sense of contentment and belonging that rivaled the one he felt as his mother’s house. It was a scary realization, but one that he took to heart.

After years of talking about it in articles and interviews, Chris Evans was finally going to settle down and he was going to do it with Danielle Blake. It didn’t matter if it was in New York City or suburban New Jersey; he just knew that he couldn’t spent any more time waking up in a bed that wasn’t one they called theirs rather than his or hers. It was a huge step that was not to be taken lightly, but he was ready for it nevertheless.

What he didn’t feel ready for, however, was curtain on the first night of Lobby Hero and certainly not without Danielle. She’d promised that she would leave work with enough time to be in the audience to support him, after cursing the legal gods that they had set a massive deadline in the European Union for that day. Everything needed to be filed by 7pm EST or they would automatically default.

She told him that she would see him out there so he didn’t get anxious and made him promise not to look for her. Chris had been hesitant, but ultimately gave in. Of course, he hadn’t expected his sister to hand him a folded piece of paper with a knowing smile on her way out the door.

It had taken ten minutes to build up the courage to open it, but he was glad he did once he finished reading its contents.

Dead center, row 3. Don’t look for me, I know you’ll be tempted. Just know that I’m here and I love you. I am so proud of you, sweetheart. Break a leg. xoxo Danielle

The roling in his stomach stopped and Chris found himself able to stand to adjust his belt by the thick buckle just beneath the polyester police jacket. He was finally ready.

It had been over a decade since Chris had last taken a bow on stage following a long-rehearsed performance. So much had changed since then, but the exhilaration that surged through his veins with the rousing applause from the audience had not.

For the first time on that winter evening, he let his eyes roam the crowd. His brother was the easiest to spot, though that was because his whistle was as clear as day and probably sent all dogs within a ten-mile radius running for the hills. From there, it was easy to find the remainder of his family members.

Then, during the curtain call, he realized that they were all in the third row, a mere 10 feet from his place on stage in the tiny Helen Hayes Theater.

Dead center, Row 3.

His blue eyes darted over seat by seat, landing on his parents then his siblings and brother-in-law, and then—

And then.

Despite the burning stage lights, he could see the familiar green eyes that made his heart hammer against his ribs, even after nearly four years. She, like everyone else, was on her feet and it was apparent that she was clapping so hard that he thought she might bruise her palms. Yet, the warmth and pride that was evident on her soft features clearly took the cake.

The lights dimmed and hindered his ability to keep eye contact, but Chris could still feel the tight pull of his cheeks due to the grin he hadn’t even realized appeared. He desperately hoped that she would come backstage to see him soon, anxious to hear her thoughts and maybe, be on the receiving end of such a look once more.

The walk back to his dressing room was delayed by shared congratulations from the cast and the crew alike, embraces and cheek kisses all around. He didn’t want to rush because there’d only ever be one opening night, even though they were technically previews, but it was hard not to let his mind drift to who might lay ahead.

He tried not to be disappointed when he found the space empty. Then a knock on the door filled him back up with hope again.

“It’s open,” he called out from the small vanity where he had leaned to toe off his boots.

The door opened with a snick and he watched in the mirror as a head of blonde hair became visible. A grin rocketed across his face.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Chris echoed.

“Can I come in?” the blonde asked softly, surprisingly cautious.

He nodded his ascent as he turned in the direction of the voice, but added “Of course” for good measure. His face had grown a little more stoic by then, though he couldn’t understand the source of the nerves.

She slipped inside and shut the door behind her, leaving them alone for the first time since she’d left for work that morning. Although, Chris had still been mostly asleep in bed when she kissed him goodbye.

Her green eyes carefully raked down his form, taking in the uniform up close. “I feel like I could bump into you on patrol in Port Authority like this.” They flicked up with a smile. “It’s not only the costume, though.”

He removed the hat to carefully set it down on the tabletop. “Did you like it?”

“The costume?”

“The whole thing,” he clarified. “What did you think?”

The woman took a few steps closer, crossing the tiny room in virtually no time at all. “I cried,” she confessed. “It was funny, it was horrifying. And you—you were like nothing I’d ever seen.”

He breathed in deeply prior to exhaling, the knot in his belly loosening. “Danielle.”

“Chris,” she answered, drawing nearer to him and hearing the light crinkle of the police jacket as her arm brushed against it. “You made my skin crawl. I never thought that was a feeling I’d tie to you, but you somehow managed it. While the second act was running, I didn’t know how I was going to come back here and let myself be in the same room as you without anyone else around.” The corner of her mouth rose. “Then I watched you come out behind the screen of the building doors on the stage and I saw you react to something Michael said. I’d recognize that laugh as yours anywhere. It wasn’t anything like Bill.” She reached for his cheek and could feel the familiar texture of makeup under her palm, but paid it no mind. “You were wonderful, sweetheart. I am so unbelievably proud of you.”

Neither knew who initiated it exactly, but a few moments later, they found themselves tightly wrapped up in each other’s arms, Chris’s mustache tickling her neck where he burrowed his face against her skin.

“I’m not the only one, you know.” She stroked her fingers over the fuzzy hairs at the back of his head, shorn down for the police-appropriate crew cut. “When you delivered Bill’s line about being nice, you made my mom cry.”

He laughed and she felt his chest reverberate against her. “Yeah, he’s a piece of shit.”

“He is,” she emphatically agreed, “which is why I’m even prouder. He’s absolutely nothing like you.”

“The mustache and hair help.”

“Oh, yes. Because we both know that awful facial hair and a bad haircut can save a terrible performance,” she noted dryly.

Chris pulled back just enough to kiss her. “Thank you.”

Satisfied he was taking the compliment, she smiled. “You’re welcome.”

After another few kisses, he begrudgingly backed away so he could get started on shedding Bill’s attire. The jacket came off first, followed by the belt and all its accessories. He was sitting in the chair to take off his boots when he realized his girlfriend was staring, focus unmoving.

His blue eyes lifted curiously and followed her line of sight until it led to his left hand.

Oh.

He tucked his boots neatly beneath the table. “I’m not used to it either,” Chris admitted, straightening again. “I’ve been acting professionally for nearly two decades, but I’ve never actually had to wear one.”

Danielle paused in thought prior to answering. It was difficult to find an appropriate response now that she’d been caught looking. “You twist it a lot. In the play, I mean.”

“I’m glad you picked up on that.” He smiled, pleased. “I only do that when you see Bill leaving the elevator.”

The implication of the habit dawned on her. “So we’ll know it’s because he’s just put it back on?”

“Bingo.”

“Wow. That’s fucking brilliant.” A small, quiet laugh. “You’re brilliant.”

“Says the lawyer who was just complaining to me yesterday about how archaic and corrupt the Argentinian trademark opposition procedure is,” he countered, pointing at her.

Her heartbeat thrummed at his argument. She knew Chris listened to her complain about cases and clients sometimes, but it still caught her off-guard that he was usually able to paraphrase back to her the details of her lament because he’d listened so intently. It also didn’t hurt that for the first year they’d known each other and before she’d gotten experience in practice as an actual attorney rather than an intern, he knew little more of trademarks outside of famous brand names.

If he wasn’t already going to get laid later as a result of his utter brilliance on stage that evening, he certainly was now.

“Does it bother you?” he asked suddenly, interrupting her thoughts.

“What? That your character is an utter bastard?”

“No.” Chris snorted. He held up his left hand to illustrate the actual meaning of his question, the silver catching the light. “The wedding ring.”

“Oh.” She shook her head, recently-shortened blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders from the action. Though, Chris noted a little extra tint of pink creeping up her neck that he suspected reached her cheeks, but the cosmetic blush on her skin made it difficult to tell. “No, it doesn’t. It’s just… strange to see, I guess?”

Any further discussion was derailed by a buzzing noise, the source of which he realized was her iPhone that had been stowed in her back pocket.

“It’s my mom,” she advised once she was able to look at the screen. “She and dad are with your parents and siblings. They want to know if it’s okay to come back or if you’d rather they meet us at home since it’s kind of a tight squeeze.”

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t mind being squished in here with them,” he chuckled. “We can all go back to our place after.” The words home and our place reverberated in his head like an echo. “We should probably order in some food for everyone, though. I’m not sure what’s open.”

“Come on, honey. Have I known our families for a day?” Danielle scoffed. “I called last week to schedule an order from that Italian place we like on Reade Street.”

God, he loved this woman. “The one that makes the greatest asparagus on the planet?”

“With pancetta, parmesan, and bread crumbs, yeah. There’s a tray of them waiting for us on sternos as we speak. Someone from building management has been checking in every thirty minutes to make sure the apartment isn’t on fire, so all of the hot food will be warm by the time we get home. Plus, I may have ordered an extra half-tray to stash in the fridge for ourselves.” Her phone vibrate three times in quick succession. “Okay, both of our mothers are harassing me now, so I’m gonna go out and get them.”

He caught her hand before she could fully turn around and pulled her in for a long, slow kiss. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Does that include putting up with the fuzzy caterpillar on your face?”

Chris rocked back with the force of his laughter and clutched a hand to his chest. “Especially with that.”

“In that case, you’re welcome,” she said definitively and slipped away to the door. She had just turned the knob to let herself out when she stopped and glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Just so you know. What we talked about before?” Danielle glanced at his left hand again for context before her gaze returned to his face. “I wouldn’t mind seeing it again. Maybe not right now.” She tilted her head a little. “But someday.”

The corners of his mouth lifted just enough to be noticeable. “Good to know,” he replied and watched her disappear into the narrow corridor, closing the door behind her.

Tagging per their usual requests, as well as those who voted in favor of ficlets: @patzammit @duncedgoofball @renntastic @beautifulrare4leafclover @avaalons @danielleharmony @tchitchou26

#chris evans #chris evans rpf #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fan fic #chris evans/ofc #chris evans/original character #chris evans/oc #chris evans/original female character #lawyered #my fics

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briangroth27 · 7 years ago

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The Get Down Part 2 Review

I enjoyed the second part of Netflix’s The Get Down and I’m sorry it ended up being the last. This show was exciting, engaging, and completely outside what I normally watch—I’ve never been a big fan of the 70s, disco, or hip-hop—but I loved it and found a new appreciation for all three. I’ll definitely miss these characters and this aesthetic, but I’m glad they found a way to wrap things up in a (mostly) satisfying way. Unlike other reviews I’ve read, I didn’t have a problem with the release structure of this season. Dividing it into “Parts 1 and 2” didn’t throw me at all, first because it’s just branding and second because I always felt Part 1 had a solid beginning, middle, and end. It also had a cliffhanger to leave you wanting more, just like any other show’s season finale. With the new cartoon sequences and the time jump, Part 2 feels so different stylistically that if they had been released together, it would’ve felt jarring and weird.

Full spoilers...

After The Get Down Brothers’ victory at the end of Part 1, they’re reveling in their success while trying to build dream lives for themselves. Zeke’s (Justice Smith) struggle to identify himself in light of his (and everyone else’s) dual lives through his Yale application letter was a perfect encapsulation of this, while also serving as a nice reminder of what happened in Part 1. That duality was a great build off of Zeke giving a speech promoting Ed Koch (Frank Wood), but then immediately running off to perform for the very people Koch was against. The pull between Zeke’s future at Yale/his internship with Mr. Gunns (Michael Gill) and his future as a musical superstar formed a strong backbone to Part 2, and I imagine the looming choice between disappointment now with a good future promised by Yale/Gunns and a dream life granted by music in the present that might have no future is one a lot of people can empathize with. My circumstances aren’t anywhere near as dire as Zeke’s, but I certainly struggle with working towards my dream career or giving up and settling for a routine 9-to-5 job that has financial stability. I think the show did justice to this struggle, but it could’ve been a bit more fleshed out (though Part 2’s shortened episode order may’ve truncated that arc). Zeke’s clear discomfort with navigating the casual racism at the Yale club but still wanting to keep his hopes of college alive despite Shaolin (Shameik Moore) showing up—and then choosing Shao when things got way out of hand—was great to watch. I liked that Zeke stood up for Shao and didn’t rat him out to Gunns, even though it meant giving up his shot at Yale and the internship. That defense made their final split at the end of Part 2 even more heartbreaking, when Zeke discovered Shao had allowed Boo-Boo (Tremaine Brown, Jr.) to sell drugs. It was smart to make their connection to the drugs Shao was pushing not just a way to get rich, like Boo-Boo was trying to do, but a situation that could actually get Shao killed if he stopped, which made it much more complex than Zeke—whose quitting over this felt totally right—wanted to see. Zeke and Shao’s final fight felt perfect and tragic (and was perfectly acted by Smith and Moore), and Zeke scoffing at Shao’s real name when the “kung fu superhero” blinders were finally off was excellent. I feel like Zeke fully understood that even though he’d been best friends with this guy, Shao wasn’t going to stop dragging him into his world (whether it was Shao’s choice to do so or not) and Zeke couldn’t save him, so he had to save himself by cutting Curtis out. I really liked the reversal of the end of Part 1 that the destruction of The Get Down Brothers created: there, he chose rap over the system, but here he bails on his music to go back to Yale.

It would’ve been interesting to expose Zeke to the punk rock scene after Gunns’ daughter Claudia (Julia Garner) discussed it with him. I get him not wanting to explore it after they kissed since it was so closely tied to her, but it would’ve been a neat to at least get his thoughts on it. If the series had more time, rock’s war with disco could’ve made for a good obstacle for Mylene’s (Herizen F. Guardiola) career as well and the musical divide between Claudia’s interests and Mylene’s career would’ve made them direct rivals in an interesting way. That said, I’m glad Zeke came clean about his kiss with Claudia to Mylene instead of trying to hide it for an extended period of time, which helped to defuse the potentially explosive drama it might’ve otherwise caused. Their fight over her saying she was single on TV felt a little too well-worn: it would’ve been more original to subvert expectations and have Zeke understand the demands of public images himself, since he’s somewhat famous too. Regardless of that cliché plot point, the show definitely had me rooting for Zeke and Mylene, even knowing that something tragic was racing at them. Smith and Guardiola had great chemistry and totally sold their romance in both their happy and harder times. Zeke talking Mylene down from Misty Holloway’s (Renée Elise Goldsberry) excellent “Backstabbers” attack was one of those great moments between the two of them. I also loved the knowing goodbye she gave him when she told him she was leaving at the end of the season; that she didn’t repeat “forever” when she said she loves him was heartbreaking. However, the renewed hope that fills Zeke while doing his poetry in his impromptu studio session—the beginning of his recording career, no doubt—was the perfect reaction to his heartbreak. In the end, it was just him and his rhymes, and that’s not only supremely fitting, but a nice segue to the flash-forwards of adult Zeke (Naz) rapping alone on stage. Zeke’s poetry with his future self was very well done (and extremely well-acted) and makes me tear up every time I watch it, while overlaying it with Mylene’s “See You on the Other Side” was a very cool mirror of the Get Down Brothers sampling “Set Me Free” for their battle at the end of Part 1. Reuniting Zeke and Mylene at the very end was extremely fulfilling—I’m choosing to believe that silhouetted trio was the actual Soul Madonnas, not just a tribute—and gave their romance something of a happy ending. Even if that isn’t them, or if it’s not supposed to imply Zeke and Mylene finally got back together, I think he was still waiting for her—and maybe only for her—just like Francisco (Jimmy Smits) waited for Lydia (Zabryna Guevara). No matter what, Zeke and Mylene will always be connected by their music.

Mylene’s journey away from gospel music and into a more sex-laden atmosphere worked really well as a parallel for her growing up and moving beyond the confines of her religious upbringing, even with as blatant as her father (Giancarlo Esposito) being a literal preacher was. I did appreciate and enjoy Mylene finally getting out of that situation with her dad before he died, though, and Guardiola was great at portraying Mylene’s attempts to break free as well as her confidence when it came to taking hold of her group’s future. I also liked the internal drama within the Soul Madonnas that was stirred up by Yolanda’s (Stefanee Marin) concerns about them becoming too sexy, but I thought it should’ve lasted longer. As I’ve seen pointed out elsewhere, her return to the group an episode after ratting out the plans for their sexy show was jarring. I felt like that was a major missed opportunity for Mylene to step up as leader to work out a solution all three of them felt comfortable with while also digging into Yolanda and Regina’s (Shyrley Rodriguez) perspectives more. Personality-wise, Mylene was already a good balance between Yolanda and the more fun-loving, assertive Regina, and it would’ve been great to see her become the balance within the group as well. Seeing her step into a leadership role within the Soul Madonnas would’ve not only given her a new struggle (one that paralleled Zeke and Shao’s fight for the future of the Get Down Brothers, now that I think of it), but would’ve better built her arc towards taking control of her career from Roy (Eric Bogosian). Had Mylene gotten the chance to show him and us that she could handle internal dissension and be a strong voice within the group through the Yolanda incident, it probably would’ve sold Roy agreeing to her terms a bit more. Standing up to him and threatening to walk out of her contract—and Roy caving—may have been unrealistic, as others have noted, but I still liked that she got that moment. Given the necessarily rushed nature of the season, Roy having the sense to keep his talent happy was an emotional win I can get behind, even if it doesn’t make business or real-life sense.

The other thing I would’ve liked to see in regard to Mylene is where she sees her music going. “See You on the Other Side” implies she won’t fully transition to the full-on sexy thing, but is she content to only do ballads? We know she greatly admired Misty Holloway (at least until Ruby Con), so did she want to be the next Misty or something original? Where does her artistic instinct take her, and what kind of music does she want to be making? Would she have considered pioneering a new style? Would she have tried to dabble in punk rock as that started to challenge disco (and rock ultimately defeated it)? That would’ve been a cool way to pit Mylene’s style against Zeke’s (and Cadillac’s (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II)) in a potential Part 3, give her an entirely different sort of challenge as she tries to adapt to that style, and create an entirely unexpected way to wrap Claudia back into the storyline; maybe she could’ve inspired Mylene to try out what’s out there, since early punk rock was inclusive of women. Of course, those all feel like Part 3 developments. In Part 2, I still would’ve liked to see more of her opinion of what her music should be.

I liked that Mylene and Shao fighting over Zeke’s future gave a much more personal stake to the hip-hop vs. Wall Street nature of Zeke’s two potential paths. That the two of them were the most important figures in Zeke’s life and were fighting over him gave that triangle an interesting aspect that could’ve been fleshed out more, but I liked what we got. I could easily buy that Mylene’s barb about Shaolin being romantically interested in Zeke was more than just an offhand insult. So many characters commented on his and Zeke’s friendship as something more than platonic, like everyone was seeing something he didn’t see (or didn’t want to admit) himself, that I think the writers were definitely hinting that he’s gay or bi. Even Fat Annie (Lillias White) gives a knowing smile when Shao says Zeke isn’t his boyfriend. Shao also immediately understood what was going on between Dizzee (Jaden Smith) and Thor (Noah Le Gros), even though when he “caught them” they weren’t doing anything remotely sexual, which to me implies he's been there, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. Though their friendship was real and he definitely depended on Zeke to provide lyrics to his music, so of course he wouldn’t want to see Zeke head off to Wall Street, I think Shao really might’ve loved him. Perhaps the superhero ninja persona he crafted wasn’t just to cover up the fact that he had no one, but to hide his true identity as well. After all, the only person he really lets his walls down for and tells his “secret identity” to is Zeke. Of course, you can share your deepest truths with your best friend just as easily as with the person you love without it meaning you love your best friend too, but in this era it seems telling that Shao’s ultra-masculine alter-ego only comes down for Zeke in a desperate effort to make him stay.

It’s sad that Shao didn’t ever seem to have had anyone and needed Zeke a whole lot more than Zeke needed him. That made their split all the more heartbreaking. The push and pull over who was actually leading the Get Down Brothers—Zeke or Shaolin—worked well to build their growing conflict to the breaking point. Once they were there, I thought it was a beautiful and heart-rending note to have Shao resort to a Fat Annie movie when Zeke tried to walk away from him. Speaking of Fat Annie, Shaolin falling into dealing angel dust was disappointing given how strongly he’d only cared about being a DJ in Part 1. It’s tragic that moving it for Cadillac was the only way to keep his music going, particularly as it directly led to the end of his DJ career. It’s even more tragic that Shao ended up staying with Annie to protect the rest of The Get Down Brothers after getting even Cadillac out of her grasp. As sad as that is (and Moore sold Shao’s defeat perfectly), it felt like an earned end for him and satisfyingly explained why Fat Annie would let Zeke and the others get away. I wish we were getting a Part 3 to show him escape her grasp.

Adding Dizzee as a secondary narrator was an interesting choice, but it would’ve worked better if the show had honestly and more deeply explored his secret life. That would’ve justified and smoothed over the feeling I got that he was so unconnected from the main plot this season. Aside from Dizzee getting yelled at by his parents (Karen Aldridge, Ron Cephas Jones) alongside his brothers, Get Down Brothers gigs, and accidentally taking the tainted angel dust, it felt like he was existing in a slightly different show that didn’t really reconnect with the rest of the plotlines. As I’ve seen pointed out elsewhere, Part 1 had him doing his own thing too, but still made his connection to the rest of the plot a lot cleaner and more important when he introduced “Set Me Free” to the real tastemakers of New York and made it a hit. Here, even when he collided with the subplots of other characters, like taking the supposedly very dangerous tainted angel dust, he just got a little sick for a minute (which was weird in and of itself) and then continued doing his own thing. That said, his narration and the cartoon segments played into not only the heightened reality of Part 1, but the comics and 70s cartoons the guys would’ve been into as well. I like the interpretation I’ve seen elsewhere that (most of) the cartoon sequences are idealized versions of what the characters were experiencing, like the animated scene that follows their victory at the unity concert where all their comic book alter egos are reveling in their success before the real world comes crashing down around them and their dreams. That was probably the most successful use of the cartoons. On the other hand, there were some animated sequences that were literally just a character arriving at/leaving a building, which felt awkward and pointless. There didn’t seem to be any thematic reasoning for those moments to be animated and the transitions between real and cartoon characters were awkward and disruptive when used that way.

The biggest disappointment about Dizzee’s arc this season was how shy the show was about his burgeoning sexuality. I expected much more to Dizzee coming to terms with being either bi or gay and they literally didn’t even dare speak that love’s name, which was a bizarre choice for a season that also featured Ruby Con and numerous drag queens. It was weird that Dizzee and Thor weren’t able to ever kiss, even when they were painting each other. Dizzee inferring that Boo-Boo wouldn’t ever understand what he was going through was perfectly tragic (and it was a very well-acted scene by both of them), but I wish we’d gotten to see him take a chance and tell his little brother the truth. It would’ve opened Dizzee’s arc to the rest of the characters and Boo-Boo (and the rest of them) trying to deal with it could’ve been a solid dramatic arc. At the very least, a scene with Shao giving Dizzee some comforting words (whether Shao is into guys too or not) would’ve been great. Since Dizzee didn’t tell anyone, feeling (and animating himself) as an alien made a lot of sense and worked, and Jaden Smith conveyed the pain of knowing he couldn’t share his secret very well. I thought for sure this Part would do an AIDS storyline given the time period and the impact it had on the gay community and that would’ve been a powerful, important story to tell. I’m not sure I could’ve handled that level of heartbreak given everything else that went down in the finale, but I did go into Part 2 expecting tragedy heading for Dizzee and Thor. However, what the show gave us instead felt pointless and needlessly mean. My impression was absolutely that Dizzee got hit by the train and that was not a satisfying conclusion to his story at all. Not only did they not let him kiss the guy he was in love with, but half the gay couple gets killed? Come on. The two of them never fit into flamboyant stereotypes about gay guys, but “bury your gays” is an even worse cliché. It felt like a cheap shock that didn’t need to happen. I don’t think the series would’ve had any less of an impact had they just been happy together and it didn’t gain anything by (maybe) killing Dizzee.

Comparatively, Boo-Boo and Ra-Ra (Skylan Brooks) didn’t get much to do this season, and that’s a shame. Boo-Boo’s stint in the drug trade was certainly unexpected and it was disappointing to watch him get wrapped up in that lifestyle, even if all three Kipling brothers’ reaction to their parents grounding them for the drugs they found was funny. Like Shao’s predicament, it was tragic that it was the only way he could see to raise his social status. Regardless, Brown, Jr. clearly had a blast as Boo-Boo briefly hit the high life with this dangerous gig. Boo-Boo’s ultimate arrest was sad and shocking; maybe I was “stuck on hope” or looking for a Hollywood ending, but I didn’t actually expect Boo-Boo to end up in prison. Along with Dizzee’s apparent death, that definitely brought the fantastical nature of the show back to the ground with a stark reminder of the realities of life. That could’ve easily upset the tone of the show, but I think it worked.

I liked Ra-Ra thinking about the future and dabbling in making what The Get Down Brothers do truly profitable and long-term. His sojourn into the Universal Zulu Nation territory was a cool introduction of that style and I liked that he wasn’t welcome because The Get Down Brothers had been marked as drug dealers. The positive culture there was a nice counterpoint to what we’d seen so far and I wish the show had time to explore it more via Ra-Ra’s perspective. I wish it weren’t so animated though; if the animated sections are to be considered the characters’ dream worlds, why is the real salvation from Fat Annie the gang finds in Ra-Ra’s trip animated as well? At first that felt incongruous, but perhaps it’s because the guys aren’t really saved from Fat Annie at all. They get out of her contract, but she still gets Boo-Boo arrested and they still break up. In any case, I wish we’d gotten more of Ra-Ra this season. Brooks brought a great, distinctive energy to Ra-Ra and I would’ve liked to see more of that. Trying to woo Tanya (Imani Lewis) on the phone was so funny and sweet, and this half of the show could’ve used a bit more of his innocence and optimism. I also would’ve liked to see where his forward-thinking got him in the future. He’s one of the main characters and deserved at least a hint at his destiny.

Cadillac’s love for video games and disco made for a really fun and unique gangster, while his desire to go to space was a great, unexpected reveal! I’m sure Abdul-Mateen II had an absolute blast playing this character and he’ll definitely remain one of the most memorable parts of the show. It was awesome that even Cadillac felt like he got a complete ending to his arc in Part 2. I liked that the unity concert actually changed Cadillac’s mind and got him to successfully break free of Fat Annie. Agreeing to let the Get Down Brothers go after Shao acknowledged their common bonds of abuse by Fat Annie and their desires to be free was a great moment and I really liked both characters at that point. I loved that he’s going to use his freedom to work on his own music, even if his time as a music producer never felt fully fleshed-out in either Part of the series. However, that may have been the point. His revelation about not ever really focusing on his Super-High Voltage Records label all this time felt like a wake-up call to people with goals everywhere: he’s gotten nowhere on his dream at least partially because he never really buckled down and tried. For me, that was a surprising connection to a character who seemed like he’d be completely nefarious and unrelatable at first! I would’ve liked to see him struggle to make it as a producer as Disco died in a potential Part 3. That said, there were a few bumps in the road for Cadillac’s development. It seemed like there was a bit of disconnect between the end of Part 1 and the beginning of Part 2: I felt like he was far more prepared to get revenge on The Get Down Brothers at the end of Part 1 and thought he already knew where they’d gotten their sound system and records, but that reveal was saved for Part 2. It’s possible I misread his moment watching them perform at the end of Part 1, though. His continued obsessive “love” of Mylene was creepy and didn’t amount to anything, so I don’t know why it needed to persist beyond Part 1 (or even past the pilot). On the other hand, I’m so glad that neither that nor Mylene’s producer Shane’s (Jeremie Harris) somewhat teased interest in her ever became anything. I didn’t need to see her sexually used or abused by some skeevy adult in power.

Besides, Mylene’s father using her was enough. As blunt as a man of God trying to keep his daughter holy was, it was cleverly twisted by Ramon trying to exploit Mylene’s career to increase the standing—and the trappings—of his church. I liked that his ambitions became just as gaudy and “godless” as he feared Mylene’s career and soul would become, hurting himself and those around him in the process. His presence even actively drove her to the drugs he feared her fame would expose her to, like when she used cocaine to calm her nerves when he showed up at the Ruby Con. As strong an example of how much impact he had on her as that was, however, it was a somewhat bizarre one-off moment (perhaps in an expanded season, she’d have her own drug problem to parallel what Shao and Boo-Boo were doing). On the other hand, his controlling nature extending into beating his wife felt cliché and unnecessary. I hated him so much in the end that I didn’t care he died; in fact, I was happy to see him go. That said, I wish there’d been more fallout to his suicide than Mylene overcoming it as a survivor (though a strong Mylene is always a good thing). While Ramon probably became the villain of his own story without realizing it, Fat Annie reveled in her ill-gotten empire. She was a great villain and the implication that she’d been abusing both Shao and Cadillac made her feel evil in a far ickier way. I’ve seen people say killing the cat was too much, but I think they did it to prove she really would kill more kids. Perhaps the writing could’ve given her some more dimension and motivation, but she never felt like a one-note character to me (possibly because her performance was so entertaining). I liked that Francisco was finally revealed as Mylene’s actual father and the fact that he “slept alone” since 1960 was sweet. Though it was a little rushed and sidelined, his end felt earned. I feel like we should’ve gotten more of Lydia’s reactions to everything happening with the two men in her life, as well as her daughter’s career, in far more detail than we did. I also would’ve liked more from Jackie Moreno (Kevin Corrigan) than the couple of songs he wrote for Mylene and his support in the contract renegotiation scene. He seemed like such a presence in the first half the series that it was odd he was so sidelined here. It would’ve been nice if more had been done with the three kingdoms of Hip Hop pioneers—Kool Herc (Eric D. Hill, Jr.), Grandmaster Flash (Mamoudou Athie), and Afrika Bambaataa (Okieriete Onaodowan)—as well before they came together to save the kids from their contract with Fat Annie. If we’d known them better, seeing them unite for this moment would’ve felt like a bigger deal.

I liked the way the teens’ success in Part 1 segued into the manipulation of that success by the people behind Zeke and Mylene in Part 2. That made for a surprising (if inevitable) bittersweetness to their wins at the end of the first Part while giving them new battles to fight that didn’t feel like retreads of the first half of the series, even if many of the same players were involved. For example, the dance/rap-off between the Get Down Brothers and Cadillac’s disco music at Les Inferno was really entertaining and a great restructuring of Zeke and Cadillac’s dance-off over Mylene in the pilot. Fat Annie’s record contract for the Get Down Brothers worked well as a plot for me and I liked that the final rap battle wasn’t just about freeing themselves from that contract, but about proving that using a band just isn’t the same. That said, I really liked the gut-punch reveal at the end that the first hip-hop record did use a band. That sort of historical irony played really well, and had the show continued it seems like that sort of thing might’ve been the battle of a potential Part 3: as I saw pointed out on IGN, it’s ironic that Mylene is such a disco revelation too late in the game for that genre, while The Get Down Brothers arrived on the hip-hop scene a bit too early. I would’ve liked to see the characters navigate the changing trends in music and it’s a shame we won’t get to see more of their stories. Having so many of the main characters meet bad ends was sad, but felt real (even if I’ll never buy that dark/depressing is inherently more “realistic”).

Although I liked a lot the new songs, none of them matched “Set Me Free” or The Get Down Brothers’ winning mix from the end of Part 1 except “See You on the Other Side.” That one had a lot of emotion packed into it and was perfectly used to wrap up the show. The remix of Gonna Fly Now (the Rocky Theme) was cool too; it’s also used directly after they win the Unity Concert and right before their dreams are crushed; like Rocky, they go the distance but don’t really get to win. I loved the heightened reality this show lived in, while the Soul Train-type show Platinum Boogie was a fun bit of 70s atmosphere and I loved how outlandish the Studio 54-esque Ruby Con nightclub was, both thematically and design-wise. The truly creepy and unnerving intro to Episode 4 was very effective and surreal; so effective that I’m not sure the rest of the club or the episode lived up to what the intro promised, even if it still mostly worked. The use of stock footage from the real-life 70s intercut with the glossier night clubs and modern film quality still plays very well too. This world was so unique and well-constructed that it feels like we lost something special with the show’s cancellation.

I’m going to miss The Get Down, these characters, and this world. The actors were excellent across the board and I can’t wait to see more of them in their future projects. Despite some missed opportunities for exploring the characters more (mostly caused by the truncated season), this was a great, satisfying conclusion to the show. In regard to actual events, these 11 episodes may be fictionalized and softened (from what I’ve gathered from other reviews), but they’re still an entertaining insight into an aspect of history I never knew about. If you never gave The Get Down a chance, it’s definitely worth checking out!

Check out more of my reviews, opinions, and original short stories here!

#the get down #netflix #justice smith #zeke figuero #mylene cruz #jaden smith #get down brothers #soul madonnas #Shameik Moore #herizen guardiola #shaolin fantastic #Skylan Brooks #ra-ra #tremaine brown jr #boo-boo #dizzee kipling #yahya abdul-mateen ii #cadillac

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