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klausysworld · 1 year

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hi, can you do a one-shot about the 21st century human yandere klaus mikaelson, where klaus is maybe a college art professor and the reader comes to his class to volunteer to be painted (maybe nude) just to earn extra money , and Klaus immediately becomes obsessed with her and makes her his muse (and gets jealous when someone else wants to paint her). You can court a lot on behalf of Klaus and maybe he will seduce her. (the reader belongs to another faculty)

I don’t want to fuck someone. I want to fuck you.

(Third person)

Klaus had taught quite a few art classes how to capture the naked body. He had both male and female models before and was never too bothered by it.

But he wasn’t expecting someone as radiant as her to be there. Completely naked while sat on her knees, her head tilted back and her arms back always her generous breasts pushed out as her back arched. From his canvas he had a side on view of her as someone stood over her adjusting her hair and checking she was happy with everything. She was knelt on a soft padded material to keep her knees comfortable and whatever the person said to her made her laugh- a melodic laugh- that made her chest rise and fall more heavily, her breasts bouncing slightly much to his enjoyment.

When the person she was talking to beckoned Klaus over he didn’t hesitate in joining them

———————————————————————

(First person)

“This is Professor Mikaelson, most students just call him Klaus, Klaus with is Y/n, as you may have guessed she’s here for the painting class” i smiled at the professor and offered my hand which he quickly took, a kiss to the back of my hand which surprised me but was welcome nonetheless. I noticed his eyes dropping to between my legs, his lips parting and his hand squeezed mine

“So the students should be here any second now, the class will be spread over a few days, if you could just stay as still as possible, we try not to take breaks as we don’t wish to disturb the young artists” the other guy said drawing Klaus’s attention before he looked back down but this time to my tits

“Sure i get it, i mainly do this for the other college across town so i know what to do” the guy gave a tight lip smile and nodded, the two colleges weren’t too fond of eachother.

I looked back to a very lustful professor, i glanced to his pants seeing the prominent tent forming

“You never seen a girl naked?” I asked and his eyes snapped to mine making me laugh

“You know you don’t get to paint what’s between my legs unless you pay for a private session, no need to look, you only get to paint a side view today” i smiled sweetly as his eyes tailed back to my thighs

“And how much is a private session?” He asked lowly

“I dunno I’ve never done on yet” i shrugged and he seemed both pleased and disappointed

“Nobodies painted your pretty pink cunt before?” Okay i wasn’t expecting the forwardness, i felt a small wave of heat rush to my core as i wetted my lips

“No…people also don’t usually stare this long, I’m becoming uncomfortable” I muttered and he looked to my eyes

“Forgive me, you’re just so ethereal it’s difficult not to” he smiled as he touched my face before walking back to his easel.

The rest of the class quickly filled the room at either side of me, some of them whispering about my body while other silently observed. I was pretty confident in my skin, you have to be in this job. I didn’t care for the stretch marks littering my thighs and hips. People could stare all they like, if anything you have to pay attention to them to be able to paint them right.

I stayed in my position for hours on end. Sometimes people leaned a little closer to see the finer details of my skin before returning to their canvases.

Eventually the day was up and people came in with a robe to cover me as the students left the room. As i tied the fabric around me i felt someone stand behind me. I turned my head to see him towering over me, a blush crawling onto my face as he smirked.

“You know i would be very willing to pay however much you desire for a private session, perhaps you’re in need of better accommodation? I would be happy to provide for you” he murmured leaned down so his lips grazed my ear making me shudder and my eyes struggle to stay open as soft lips pressed to my neck

“You are an utterly delicious muse” he hummed, a wet kiss on my jaw as his hands began wondering my body. It was when he lightly squeezed my breast was i brought back to my senses. My eyes opening wide as i panicked slightly. My breathing increased as i pushed away from him hoping he would leave me be, thankfully he didn’t attempt to grab me back. I spun around and backed away quickly, his face grew somewhat alarmed as he raised his hands in as though to prove he wouldn’t do anything

“Love, I won’t touch if that’s what you want. I shouldn’t have done that…i apologise.” He spoke slow, it felt as though he thought i was stupid and i neared the door a little quicker, dashing down the hall to grab my clothes before leaving

———————————————————————

(Third person)

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Klaus could have punched himself in the face. He was too much. He’s frightened her.

The look on her face was awful, his heart hurt.

He hated the affect she had on him so soon but he craved it at the same time

Now he had fucked it.

The next day he set our early grabbing a bouquet of red roses for his new muse. He also picked out a lovely vase so that she definitely had somewhere to put them.

He checked on his painting so far, the majority of it done, he just needed to finish some of her legs and add the finer details.

He couldn’t help the instant hardening of his dick as he traced his fingers over the image of her naked body, such gorgeous curves. Such beautiful hair. Her nipples had been almost diamond like as they stiffened under the gazes of so many people. He could still remember the way her cunt glistened. The light pink flesh begging to be touched. And the way that red hue spread through her face? Oh how he needed to make her his.

Didn’t she understand? He could give her as much money as she pleased. That was why she was here wasn’t it? Some extra cash for modelling?

Klaus didn’t work there for the money, his family was a very rich family, he worked there because he loved art and he liked seeing other people embracing it aswell, finding the right style for them and perfecting it.

He wasn’t one to want for anything and yet she was special.

She came back into the room shortly after he.

Klaus watched her undress and make her way back to her spot. He decided he would leave her to her silence for the time being, not wanting to scare her off again.

He payed close attention to every mark on her soft skin, applying everything he saw to his final piece. Making sure the pattern of her hair was just right, her lashes curling perfectly and her lips plump.

Klaus had finished before the students and he found himself leaving the room for a moment. He stood in the staff bathroom, trousers at his ankles as he aggressively jerked his thick cock, he had been hard since yesterday and seeing her so bare once again had his hips jumping. His forehead rest against the wall as he grunted and groaned. Oh how he just wanted to bend her over the sink, have sat on the sink, beneath the sink. However she preferred as long as he was inside her.

He imagined her perfect little pussy squeezing him tight, his own hand closing around himself as he moaned a little louder, his hips bucking wildly as he chased his release. Just as he was about to a cum a knock came at the door

“Is someone in here?”

Damn that other professor. Klaus quickly tidied his appearance before leaving without a word to his fellow worker.

He made his way back to class to find only the goddess herself to still be there. She was scanning over the paintings the people had made of her. She was dressed fully, pretty much all of her silky skin was covered as her head tilted to the canvas infront of her.

“Did they do a good job?” He asked, his voice carrying through the almost empty room.

“They are very good compared to others” she nodded.

“The other college you style at isn’t as great as they make out?” He asked slightly smug as he came to stand next to her. His cock was screaming to be let out and it took everything in him not to palm himself.

“Now that’s not fair. Some of them are unbelievably talented, a few of them i believe only chose art for the laughs. Your class is consistent but nothing particularly wows me” she explained and he hummed

“None of them?” He asked just a tiny bit offended

“Nope” she gave him a sweet smile and began to leave

“Love- y/n. I got you something to say sorry, for my behaviour.” He quickly grabbed the flowers and brought them to her hand, glad when she accepted them with a small nod

“Thank you Klaus” she mumbled and he smiled a little

“I hope that you’ll return, even if you aren’t nude” she chuckled at him and his grin widened

“Maybe” she offered and that pleased him enough.

———————————————————————

(First person)

I was sat in a manspreading position, my hands on my thighs. All i wore was a lace underwear set as the man who went by Mark, sat before me, pencil and sketchbook in hand as he drew me. He was telling me of the different art exhibits he had been to recently and to be fair he was quite good.

“Do you mind if a friend of mine comes over? Another artist of course, i think he would be able to capture you well, his painting is better but still a fine sketcher, charcoal too.” He muttered. I lulled over it for a minute before agreeing

“No funny business though yeah?” I question and he nodded quickly

“No yeah, you’re good, i have people about, you want a female to stay in the room? I can get someone in here if you get uneasy” he asked and i shook my head

“It’s fine” i mumbled and he smiled at me slightly before sending his friend a message.

I was not expecting him to walk through the door.

Stupid Klaus turning up.

His face was even more shocked than mine when he saw me

“You two know eachother?” Mark asked confused

“Sort of-“

“I painted her nude” he responded quickly and i blinked at him

“And I wasn’t allowed to see you without a bra? Wow favouritism at its finest” he grumbled

“Shut up this is free, i was doing it for a college class where i was paid” he waved his hand dismissively and Klaus frowned

“You pose in your underwear for free?” He asked looking somewhat concerned

“Nah only for a few people, i just happened to find her stunning, had to get her down on paper and she said she wouldn’t mind” he explained still unbothered. I watched something dark twist in klaus’ eyes

“You bring your own sketch pad or you using one from here?” Mark asked, Klaus pulled out his own and took a seat infront of me.

I stayed there for just over an hour before i slipped my dress back on. I was sat between the two men, flipping through some of Marks other pieces. Klaus’ hand had been gripping my thigh for the past 20 minutes, making sure i was slightly closer to him than i was to Mark.

I then looked through Klaus’ surprised when i found a fair proportion of them were me, some naked, some clothed. It was as though he had pictured me a thousand times over. There was ones of me in a field of flowers and then the next page i was naked among a pile of blankets. I should be afraid or weirded out right? But something about him, i almost wanted him to have a one on one session, see what he would do.

Klaus was quick to shut the book when Mark leaned over to see the naked sketch of me

“My eyes only I’m afraid” he smiled almost sarcastically as his hand squeezed my thigh harsher, my hand moved to rest upon his as a silent request for him to stop and he did, his grip lessoning before his hand turned up to grab onto mine.

“Right. Well i should really get going, thanks for letting me see both of your sketches, I’ll see you around” i smiled as i tried to take my hand away from Klaus’ and leave but he instead stood up with me and decided he was going to walk me out?

“Yeah thanks for letting me draw you, I’ll see you about” mark responded as Klaus nearly picked me up while walking us out

Once outside i was faced with a very pissy man.

“You should not be sat in somebody who you don’t knows house in your underwear.” He whispered harshly, his hands on the tops of my arms as he looked me in the eye

“I’m sorry do i know you? I’m pretty sure you’re just another stupid failed artist who painted me because he has nothing better to do in his life” i yelled back, his eyes grew cold as he scowled at me

“You and i both know i am an excellent artist. I have many thing i could be doing with my days but i chose this because it makes me happy. You’re the one that has to be naked for people to pay you” my eyes narrowed at his, my hands falling together

“You were literally begging to have me, you were walking around your classroom with a bunch of college students while your dick was hard and your perverted mind was picturing me bent over your desk”

“I thought you didn’t do private sessions”

“What?”

“Mark. You were there with just mark. One on one, why?”

I just stared at him like he was delirious

“You’re pathetic, if you want to fuck someone go to a club”

I turned away and began walking but his arm was wrapping around my waist pulling me back to him

“I don’t want to fuck someone. I want to fuck you” his lips hovered my ear and i closed my eyes momentarily taking in his rich scent. I bit my tongue to bring me back from my lustful state

“That’s nice and all but I don’t really do one time fucks with guys like you” I muttered and his hold tightened

“What guys do you fuck then?” He asked lowly

“Nicer ones” i mumbled and he hummed

“Do the nice ones satisfy you?”

“Yes…” i whispered but it was a lie and he knew that.

“They make you all wet hm? Do they even know what they’re doing to your pretty clit? Do they know how to curl their fingers inside your tight cunt? I bet they don’t show you how hot their mouths are on your little pussy. Have you had someones tongue lick your clit love?” I was breathing hard at his words and i could feel my underwear sticking to me.

“I’m- I don’t know- i need to leave” I wasn’t sure what i was saying but i had to go

“Tell me you don’t want me to touch you, I’ll let go just tell me you dont want to see my face between your thighs hm?” As if to drive his point a hand rubbed the skin of my upper thighs, keeping them apart as his fingers brushed my damp panties.

“We’re in public- there’s people” i stated alarmed by his lack of care

“So tell me you don’t want this” he uttered, his fingers moving the cotton material to the side and sliding his fingers through my folds making my mouth fall open

“Klaus-“

“Tell me” he whispered, his fingertips rubbed my clit in agonisingly slow circles

“I can’t” i breathed

“Why not?”

“Cuz- i want this” i moaned, his fingers sped up and i gasped quietly

“Yeah? You want my hand to fuck you? Have you spill all over the floor?” He questioned, his mouth was so close to my neck i could feel his hot breath

“There’s people” I muttered despite the ache between my legs begging me to ignore the by-passers.

“We’re tucked away, they can’t see you” he whispered, his fingers applied more pressure to my clit and arm moved out to hold onto the wall beside me. His front pressed right up against me, his hard on grinding against my ass while he pushed two fingers inside of me. I moaned louder pushing my hips back to meet his making him groan and pump his fingers faster, the pad of his thumb pressed down on my clit rubbing quickly

“Klaus” i huffed looking and seeing people walk by the ally we were in

“Im serious there are people” i whispered but moaned at the last word making him chuckle

“It’s dark here, they won’t be looking” he convinced while forcing another long finger inside, all three curling sensually

“B-but what if-“ his hand moved unbelievably fast having me cutting myself off with a moan

“No more talking love” he muttered, his head lowered to my shoulder, open mouthed kissed were spread up my neck and jaw. I could feel myself tightening around his hand repeatedly. Heat was rushing through me like wildfire as i felt that familiar burning desire to release approaching.

I threw my head back as he found the sweet spot of my neck adding to the already overwhelming pleasure

“Oh klaus” i breathed and he chuckled in response against my throat, his blunt teeth grazing the skin, another long moan leaving my lips. My hips rocked along his fingers as they rubbed at my g-spot.

“You close love?” He asked but his tone shone with amusement as i whined and panted as my high neared

“Please faster” i whispered and hummed

“You want me to move it faster or you want to fuck yourself on my fingers faster?” He questioned, i glanced down to see that his wrist was now unmoving, my hips riding his hand fast with his other hand furiously rubbing at my clit in all directions. I blushed crimson but couldn’t bring myself to slow even if i was flooded in embarrassment.

“Please help” I whimpered

“Of course sweetheart” he murmured, his fingers moving aswell as my hips,the combination had him hitting harder and deeper. My eyes squeezed shut, my back arched like a cat as my legs tensed and i slipped off the edge. Loud moans danced through the air as my orgasm flew through me.

I didn’t register the fact that his hand was over my mouth until i found myself wrapped in his arms, my soaked underwear clinging to me as he hushed me quietly and kissed the side of my head. My legs felt weak as i leant back into him tiredly

“Nobody heard did they?” I mumbled but he only continued to make a ‘shh’ sound swaying me softly

“Klaus? Tell me nobody heard” my eyes opened as i found myself further down the ally so nobody was near

“Oh thank god” I muttered sighing heavily. He laughed lightly and kissed my shoulder

Since that day he’s been showing up regularly. He almost always sent flowers to the college i worked at. He was adamant to have my pose for him at his house, to have me go out on a date with him.

Sometimes he showed up at my college which greatly pissed them off because of the educational rivalry. He brought lunch and would stay for as long as he could before I practically threw him out.

Whenever i had a small side job for modelling he turned up and payed me not to go

“They won’t appreciate your body the way i do” he explained while pulling me away from the art class

“They’re expecting me” i tried but he wasn’t having it

“I’m expecting a date and yet here we are” he muttered with a roll of his eyes.

Eventually i agreed to date. Just one so that i could shut him up but one date turned to two which turned to a dozen and…so on.

He’s still very eager to paint me on full display, apparently it would make the perfect centrepiece for his bedroom. I am yet to let him.

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v-era-18 · 9 months

Text

HoneyBee

Chapter Seven: Sleep Talk

“ Even the best of hero’s have nightmares. It's how they conquer them, that makes them worthy enough for the title,”- (G/D) (L/n)

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Energon. Screams. Blasts. Falling!

The young brown skinned girl woke up with a start, tears flooded her honey eyes as she stared at the dark depths of her room. The twist and turns of the shadows didn't make things better as she could still hear and see the war terrorist from her nightmares; the red glowing optics to the angler metal of his faceplate. His whole design screamed ‘fear me’. Her grandfather went a little too into detail when telling her the story, he stopped shortly after she started to shy away underneath the covers. It was too real.

(Y/n) could almost vividly see the metal sword in her hands, swish and flick of her tail in her peripherals as the autobot leader gave orders to the autobots for their mission. It was everything she could imagine, fighting alongside hero’s for their planet. That was until everything they had accomplished was stripped from their arms within a few minutes. Scouts turned up missing, wreckers removing themselves from the fight as lost hope began to emerge, don't even get her started on the captains and sargents.

She wanted to be that hero that would earn the words ‘well done’ by a Prime. In the end, she was a fool. A child that didn't know any better.

She almost died, she could still feel her weightless body flowing through the air nearly hitting the metal ground below. It was horrible the sights she had seen; torn metal appendages, energon spilled-dried and fresh, to the lifeless cybertronian bodies laid in vast piles. These were the parts of war she had nightmares about-the cost of the auto bot cause, millions of lives and deaths thrown away for a planet that might not ever be the same way again.

She needed to leave the dark. She didn’t want to think of those red optics scratching down her small form.

(Y/n) got out from under the covers with space cadet number five-her teddy bear- and made the decision to seek out her grandparents in their room. It had been awhile since she’s done so, after all she was twelve now and needed to stop relying on her grandparents for these sort of things such as comfort. But the grave voice of that monster continued to echo in her head.

‘Run little knight! But your death awaits today!’

The master bedroom was at the end of the hall. It had a large bookshelf in the far corner along with a desk littered with papers that were no doubt the affairs of the (L/n) library. The walls were pure ivory. ‘We leave the walls white like a canvas ready to be painted.’ The bed was a carved one-antique- harboring the foreign language not made for the human youngest. She never could figure out what it said, Nana said she would be told when she was older.

The door to they’re bedroom was already open, on the other side she could hear their voices halting her movements. Her grandmother was upset, her voice rolling out in hisses she used in order not to wake her up when they were arguing. (GD/N) sat on the bed rubbing his head in frustration, his hair was long gone by now, only his beard and eyebrows left.

“I can’t believe you’re going through with this!” Nana said, she was pacing back and forth her clasped hands over her heart. One thing about her grandmother is that her emotions affect her heart severely due to her age: one day something was going to give her a heart attack out of pure fright, “there’s an opportunity for you to live longer and you won’t take it-“

“I’ll live for a few more years with the treatment, but love-I’ve already lived a life worth living,” his mind was made up, he wasn’t going to sit by and invest money in a treatment to give himself a few more years, “You could use that money to put (Y/n) through college-“

“What about her?! You care enough about her education but not enough about her heart when she hears about your health?!” She sobbed, “She’s already lost her parents! Not to mention Estel who she can’t even remember. She can’t afford to lose someone else!”

“(GM/N) I-“

A creak of the door halted the two’s conversation, immediately looking towards the opened door seeing a stray teddy bear in its place. (GD/N) could hear the creak of another closing door at the end of the hall, giving them the answer to his suspicions.

(Y/n) was never good at pretending to fall asleep, especially when she was in trouble, or her mind continued to be active with endless possibilities. So when her grandfather sat on the end of her bed she decided to give it up and peek under the covers slightly.

The older man before her doesn't seem upset in the slightest, only a sad look in his eyes and a patient smile upon his lips. She opened her mouth to apologize for eavesdropping only for him to cut her off, “I'm sorry to wake you up sweetheart. That wasn't something you needed to hear-especially on a school night.” He fondled her teddy bear in his hands a bit before passing it over.

She gave it a little hug in response, “You didn't wake me up pops, i-it was him,” saying his name almost felt like a sin. A ‘he who shall not be named’ vibe with how much evil radiated off of him.

(G/D) brought the girl into his arms and kissed her forehead softly, it felt almost bittersweet with how much she had heard. She wasn't oblivious to what was going on; the less frequent stories at night, how tired he had grown so much he would miss out on dinner sometimes, to the way he had to force a smile after each cough. She knew her grandfather wasn't well, but just for a moment she didn't want to discuss it, she wanted to live a bit oblivious a little bit longer.

Oblivious to the fact he one day wouldn't be here to tell her every story known to man. Her original storyteller.

“He will not harm you,” He whispered in her hair, “he is far enough from your reach.”

“Because he's eroding on some planet somewhere right pop pop?” (Y/n) smiled a bit expecting him to do the same only to receive a faltering smile instead. Her expression fell, and a sense of dread filled her stomach, “He is far away from earth right Pops? He is simply a legend…..fiction-,”

“I have told you many times (Y/n). Legends stem from some form of truth, whether it simply be stories altered over time or something the human mind simply can't comprehend.” (G/D) looked towards the bookshelves in her room, eyes landing on the leather books, “I at times couldn't comprehend, neither could my subconscious mind. But there at times would be a voice or two in my corner ready to prove and relay the message before it indeed became that in my mind-a story-fiction.”

The young girls lips wobbled, “So he's going to come kill us all one day, and there's nothing I can do about it,” fat tears fell down her round cheeks as she furiously wiped them away, “How can I be a hero when all I do is have nightmares about that-that-stupid and selfish warlord and hide underneath the covers at the mention of him?”

“You are already beginning to act like a hero,” (GD/N) chuckled. His amusement to her augment fueled her frustration. Out of all the books she’s read it was hard to believe that cybertronian hero’s got scared, or were haunted by their terror. Could they even dream? When they recharge do they imagine what peace seems like? The families they could have and more?

“No I'm not!” She argued, “A hero doesn't get scared! Optimus doesn't get scared! The book never once mentioned him getting scared or having nightmares!”

“Ah,” He laughed, “That is indeed true, the book never mentions the Prime getting scared, but that doesn't mean he doesn't get scared like the rest of us. On the contrary, I bet every time he went on that battlefield his spark was pounding to the point he could barely give orders to his comrades. Lives are in his servos each time he goes on the battlefield-and that is indeed scary…especially if his most trusted friend is now his enemy, because he lost his way.”

(G/D) grabbed the young girl's chin and held it high, “Even the best of hero’s have nightmares. It's how they conquer them, that makes them worthy enough for the title,”

If he was going to leave, he was going to make sure she achieved this dream at least. Afterall, if things were to go down the way their family all knew, she would be the main successor out of all of them. The main hero of planet earth.

~ ✯ ~

The group made haste through the facility guiding the large cybertronian towards the Cube. Every second counted in this situation, there was no time for mistakes. It could be felt through the air: the tight tension of who was to die today and who could be saved.

They made a mistake, and it was time to fix it.

When they reached the room the cube was being held it took (Y/n) a minute to steady her breathing. Her eyes had gazed at it not even forty minutes ago from a safe distance, now that she was up close all the stories and legends told didn’t do it justice. The large encrypted block raided power.

Life.

Destruction.

Sam dragged her out of her gaze by pulling on her sleeve guiding her to the side as large ped steps got closer. It was grounding, as if the bots' near presence was a shield from everything going on. They were his charge, no harm was going to befall them.

The scout looked up at the cube for a minute before reaching up and placing his hands against it. Whirrs of wonder echoed from the young bot, leaving her to question if he knew what to do in order for them to leave with it. It was huge! Too large to even drag it out of the building with five autobots to join in the haul. For a moment and just a moment, she did wonder if the pyramid were all cubes, the other half buried underneath the ground. It was ridiculous, colonizers couldn't break through cybertronian tech as well as they could rock.

“Does he know what he’s doing?” Mikeala whispered to (Y/n).

“Of course he does,” she replied without hesitation, “he’s smarter than he lets you know.”

Optics flickered to her for a moment sending chills down her spine. She hadn't realized he could hear them whispering, and hot shame boiled in her stomach as if she did something scandalous. She would have to at least write that down somewhere that autobout have advanced hearing.

Bumblebee focused back on the cube placing his digits back up on it before an electric shock of blue consumed the cube. A metallic whirring could be heard along with the familiar shifting of metal as the artifact started to fold in on itself seeming to get smaller. He moved his hands in focus, seeming to instruct the cube what and how he wanted things to be done.

The humans in the room could do nothing but watch in sheer amazement. After centuries and years of believing they knew everything only to find out they didn’t even have half of it was truly shocking.

“Oh, my god,” Mikeala said, “(Y/n) this is-“

“More than I’ve ever dreamed of,” (Y/n) smiled, her hands were shaking at her side, tears welling up from too many emotions taking over, “Pops….I wish you could see this.”

The cube finally shrunk down to the palm of the bot's hand, giving his digit a little shock as he examined it a little. He then turned to (Y/n), “Message from Starfleet, Captain. Let’s get to it.”

“He’s right.” Lennoxx stepped forward, “We stay here, we’re screwed with Megatron in the other hangar. Mission City is twenty two miles away. We’re gonna sneak that Cube out of here and we’re gonna hide it somewhere in the city.”

“Good! Right.” It seemed like a miracle that Simmons was agreeing with them. I guess the cube being handled by the robot was enough for them.

“But we cannot make a stand without the Air Force.”

“This place must have some kind of radio link?!” Questioned the Captain, “Shortwave, CB?”

“Yes. Right, yes!” Simmons said, “in the Aline Archive, there’s an old Army radio console.”

“Will it work?”

“Anything is possible!” the agent exclaimed, gesturing towards Bumblebee and where the cube once was mounted. “Did you see that?!”

“Sir, you got to figure out some way to get the word out to them.” The soldier said, he turned towards (y/n) her face apprehensive, “are there any problems with my plan? You know these guys better than we do.”

Everyone turned to the girl expectantly, and it left her stomach doing twists. For some odd reason she looked up at Bumblebee, maybe hoping for an answer of his own. The only thing she received was a soft whirr and a nod. It didn’t need words, she knew what he was trying to say.

“ U-uh, so there’s only two problems-,”

“ Two?” Epps asked, “to be honest I was expecting more.”

(Y/n) laughed lightly trying to shake her nerves, “ Yeah well we don’t really have time to go in with a full hardcore plan right now. If we’re going into this we must understand the risks. First ,” she turned to the Captain and Simmons , “Be prepared to barricade the room for the radio, if I know anything about autobots and deceptions is that they can easily tap into satellites-that especially counts towards radios and internet. A decepticon might be sent loose in the facility to try to stop you.”

“Jesus,” Sam whispers.

“Second, about the cube being hidden in the city, I don't agree with it but we don’t have other options at the moment.” The girl huffed, “while on the radio with the men send out an emergency alert to order civilians to exit the city. War with cybertronians is nothing compared to war between humans. Thousands of people will die in this city if we are not careful. Am I clear?”

Everyone nodded, “ Good. That uh-was my peace.”

Mikaela smirked, “there’s the girl I got the hots for in the back of the class.” The girl missed the way the black and yellow bot snapped his head in her direction before an optic roll seemed appropriate.

To be honest now wasn't the time for emotions to flow.

Sam refrained from making a face, “ Let’s move before Megatron decides to use our bodies for target practice.”

“ He actually has done that with a soldier that betrayed him before-”

“ (Y/n) not now! ”

“ Alright Sam, (Y/n) get in the car! ” Lennoxx ordered, “ Mr. Secretary! Get our birds in the air! When we get to the city, we’re gonna find a radio, and I’ll have Epps vector them in, okay? ”

“Affirmative!”

Sam ushered into the passenger side seat with (Y/n) in the driver. Mikeala took it upon herself to protect the cube in the back. Personally (Y/n) would’ve done the job herself but a soldier had already shoved her in the driver's seat before she could protest. Bumblebee drove the facility with the soldiers on the rims of his tires. The exit seemed so far with the short amount of time they were making it through.

“ WARNING! NBE ONE CRYO-CONTAINMENT FAILING. ”

(Y/n)’s heart stopped, “ What the fuck did that just say?! ”

“ Oh boy, ” Sam uttered, “ Better get ready to haul ass Bee! ”

“ Haul ass?! He better drive like he got some sense! Cause I’ll be damned if I die at the hands of that terrorist you hear me! ”

A rumble of the engine from Bumblebee could mean two things: a scoff or a boisterous laugh. Now wasn’t the time to figure out which was which.

“Set a perimeter around the yellow vehicle!” Lennox shouted.

For support (Y/n) gripped the steering wheel trying to focus on the autobot insignia on the horn rather than the loud screams bouncing off the concrete walls. They successfully excited the facility with support ,they still weren’t out of the woods yet. They needed to reach the city to hide the cube or possibly had it off to Optimus. And Mission City was a few miles from their grasp.

“The cubes okay?” Sam asked Mikeala

“Yeah, it’s fine,” She said, adjusting it in the seat.

“Put the seatbelt around it” (Y/n) said quickly, “the less it moves the better”

Even though it was minutes it felt like ages before they got far enough to feel safe for a moment. Even safe enough to quietly talk amongst themselves as teens if they would never do it again.

“And here I thought I was going to go shopping this weekend for graduation.” Mikeala sniffed, “I’m the first to graduate high school in my family. It’s a big achievement and I wanted to look good when showing my potential future kids.”

“I was going to write a Harry Potter quote on my cap with our grad year.” (Y/n) laughed lightly. It was true, originally it was going to be Star Wars, but she decided that the many hormonal boys in their grade would’ve bashed her. A girl loving something ‘sacred’ to them didn't seem on their wish list.

Sam chuckled lightly as well, “lemme guess, ‘RONALD WHEALSLY HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR!’” the scream almost seemed like perfection at the moment,

They bursted out in laughter. The only real time they’ve laughed without stress behind it. Bumblebee even let out a little rumble.

“No, it was ‘Whenever in doubt, go to the library’” The girl giggled.

Mikeala smiled, “ It suits you.” It did, the library was attached to her family in more ways than one. It was her livelihood, almost like Banes Motorcycle shop was to her. “But honestly now you need to change it to ‘I saved the world I deserve more than this piece of paper.’”

There was a moment of silence before it was abruptly cut through with a blade of a truck horn. Seeing the familiar vehicle made the girl smile in triumph, it seemed like things were turning around with the reunion.

“There’s Optimus,” Sam announced.

The teens watched the autobot leader along with his team screech their tiers against the ground in a sharp turn before following them quickly behind. (Y/n) knew deep down the autobots we’re glad to see Bumblebee alright once more. Their scout had survived, although young, Bumblebee is a lot tougher than one could describe. But she had a feeling they knew that already, they had watched him come or of hard situations before right?

It was another few miles before they heard it. Sirens. At first (Y/n) had thought their plan of getting in touch with the government worked pretty quickly, that was until she spotted the military truck and behind it. It was a domino effect; two of the drivers surrounding them were taken out swiftly with the truck crashing and flipping them over.

The girl could only sit in the seat and stare her eyes widening as she stared at the side mirror. Abruptly she was yanked back further in her seat by the seat belt and the windows were rolled up completely.

“Are they-are they-“ she couldn’t finish.

“No no no no no no,” Sam said, watching the rearview.

“What?” Mikeala asked.

“It’s the same cop!” Sam hissed, “the one that attacked me and (Y/n) before. Block ‘em, block em, block em, block em!”

The military truck transformed first on the road, the ground shaking abruptly behind them as a fierce roar was let out from the decepticon. The enemy's enthusiasm was short lived as the autobot leader followed suit, making it his mission to be the defense as they continued forward. (Y/n) yanked a bit on the seat showing the scout she wished to see the action a bit more.

A Prime in action wasn’t something you see everyday.

A look in the side mirror led her heart to accelerate. The decepticon had skated purposefully into a civilian bus on the highway, the flames rode on the road watching fellow cars skid to a halt at the destruction the cybertronian had caused. Optimus unfortunately was a bit too late turning around, Sam let out a yelp as the autobot leader was tackled off of the skying road to the ones on the ground below.

(Y/n) snapped off the seatbelt with a new rush of adrenaline and rushed to Sam's side of the vehicle to see the fight below. A car was just a sliver away from the fight and she could only pray that the civilians inside wouldn’t be harmed. Optimus was the first to throw a strong hook into the cons faceplate then taking them further down to another level of the roads.

To see the Prime handle his adversary with determination and sheer strength was breathtaking. His sword’s protruding from his servos where nothing like she imagined. Were they hot or cold? They were a fiery yellow gradient to orange, and to see the damage they caused to the decepticon was chilling. The leader landed one final blow stabbing upwards through the enemies neck cabling, sparks flew everywhere before a snap sounded and the cons head rolled along the ground.

“Wow…” a breath left the Afro hairs lips, “ And that was only one decepticon. What was it like when he invaded bases with only three comrades by his side.”

Sam shook his head, “I dunno if I want to imagine that. Did you see what he just did?”

“I am so glad we got in this car.” Mikeala whispered.

A sliver of a memory of her grandfather warped in her mind. The comfort of his arms to the gentle peck on her forehead, “ Even Optimus gets scared,”

“I wonder how scared he is right now.” (Y/n) thought carefully, “my hands are shaking with the whole world in our hands. Imagine thinking of his world and protecting ours as well. His home is lost and he’s protecting ours from the thing that can possibly give them another planet.”

Sam and Mikeala both looked at each other, their eyes speaking for themselves without words.

Exactly what did they get themselves into? And what will be the cost if either side wins?

Upon arriving at Mission City, (Y/n)’s whole mood shifted. Uncertainty took over as she scanned the roads crowned by fleeing civilians and cars left along the roads. It was a reminder of how much was at stake. To think just staring at one road filled with people makes you think about the whole world; about classrooms, children, families, friends, even enemies.

Cause at the end of the day if this doesn’t work. They’ll all be damned.

The aircraft’s above reassured her that they indeed had taken her advice. Simmons and the others had made it out long enough to send a message out. Even though she didn’t like him-doesn't mean she can’t respect his bravery and service.

Sam pulled his best friend out of the car along with Mikeala. The cube rested in the backseat making the girl nervous; to be honest she felt like it needed to be held at all times. She had a feeling that if she looked away long enough it would disappear and all their efforts would be for naught. Even with all the heavy duty surrounding them in the street she still felt too exposed.

“Green smoke is the mark. Provide air cover and vector Black Hawks for extraction.” Epps ordered.

A thunderous aircraft circled a building, flying recklessly to be there. (Y/n) broke off from Sam peering closely before it dawned on her. To think that there wasn’t going to be any hacking with the transmissions between other aircraft was foolish-and she even forgot about it for a moment- and she was the one who had warned them about it. Through her most recent books of studies there were only a few aircraft’s recorded decepticons. And only two really mattered.

The Terrorist. And his Second Command.

The tales she had heard about Starscream made her laugh and grow frustrated. To think that one of the most dangerous decepticons was a coward and the most brutal was very contradictory. One that really stuck with her was the battle he had with three scouts, apparently there was only one that was able to outsmart Starscream and escape. It had led the commander to grow more hostile to scouts and lower ranks of the autobot cause as a result.

He had learned his lesson that ranks don't matter on the battlefield. Only wit and sheer determination.

“Oh shit-”

“It’s Starscream!” Ironhide announced transforming causing the other autobots to follow. The weapon’s specialist immediately started to get to work on a barrier for protection, “Backup! Take Cover! Bumblebee!” The scout was right behind him picking up a blue truck for a shield. The moment would’ve been something to marvel at however the expending screams ruined it.

“No,no, no, no, no! Move!” Lennox ordered, he grabbed two other soldiers from their posts gesturing for others to follow suit. It was obvious the aircrafts were not going to be able to defend them against Starscream in time, and now that (Y/n) thought about it was probably for the best. The fire back from the decepticon would have led to many plane crashes leaving more casualties in the city with the tall buildings.

“Back up! Back up!”

“Retreat! Fall back!” But it was futile; the tanks were already in position and all they could do was get out of them. The men stumbled over themselves to get away from the danger before them. Civilians being dragged along the way if they were hiding in nearby alleys and stores.

(Y/n) grabbed both Mikaela and Sam ducking for cover. Her heart was racing, she made it halfway on the ground before she felt it, the hot sizzling explosion causing the ground to rumble and break before them. They flew a few feet from impact, blinding them for a few moments.

“Anybody hurt? Everyone in okay?” Lennox screamed. He helped Mikeala giving her a once over before turning to Sam, “Where’s (Y/n)?!”

The said girl was on her side by a gray vehicle turned upside down. She let out a small whimper before shifting on her back, accidentally hitting her head against metal. At first she thought it was debris from the explosion, possibly from the truck. Until her eyes focused from the fog, seeing the infamous black and yellow signature of a cybertronian ped.

Only the thing is-it wasn’t attached to its owner.

#transformers x reader #bumblebee x black reader #bumblebee x reader #bumblebee #transformers bayverse #transformers bumblebee #sam witwicky #mikeala banes #Youtube

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 1 month

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Evelyn Demirci (Ace!Tav) Character Bio

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

Basics

Nickname/Aliases: Evie, Tavern Mouse, Tav

Pronouns: She/Her/They/Them

Age: 26

Race/Subrace: Human (Gur)

Class/Subclass: Bard/College of Lore

Alignment: Neutral Good

STR: 10 DEX: 15 CON: 12 INT: 8 WIS: 13 CHA: 17

Appearance

Skin Tone: Dark Olive

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: Black

Hairstyle: Long and braided

Build: A bit slim, acrobatic and flexible

Height: 5’ 6’’

Style: When not in her performance dress, typically she wears some nondescript adventurer garb meant for comfort over style; something that will make it easy for her the blend into a crowd

Weapon(s): Rapier, dagger

Instrument(s): Violin, Lute, Lyre

Personality

General Personality Traits: Personable, Empathetic, Withdrawn

Ideals: People. She is committed to the people she cares about, not to ideals.

Bonds: She is just trying to end the day with a full stomach and a roof over her head, even if it will only last that one night. Anything more permanent feels out of reach.

Flaws: Doesn’t share much about herself, including any negative or uncertain emotions she may be feeling in the moment. It’s easy for her to get lost in relationships.

Secrets: Her sexuality

Regrets: Not pressing her father more about their tribe. Maybe then she would have been able to find them.

Relationships

Best Friend(s): Gale, Karlach, Wyll

Family: Emelie Demirci (mother/deceased), Ryland Demirci (father/unknown)

Lovers: Astarion

Sexuality: Asexual

Backstory

Evie didn’t get the start most would consider ideal.

Her parents were part of a tribe of Gur traveling across Faerun, slaying monsters and earning money where they could, even if certain townships looked down on them. Unfortunately, her father, Ryland had a habit of living up to the stereotypes. If people were going to see them as cut throats and thieves, might as well be a good one. Evie never got the full story, but eventually he crossed the line and was forced to leave the caravan. Her mother soon followed, loving him too much to leave him.

So, Evie was born in the back room of a tavern as it was the only place her father could find that wasn’t a tent in the middle of the woods. It didn’t do her mother much good either way as she died not long after.

Ryland did what he could, at least at the start. Evie would later reflect with vague memories of an Inn, the smell of rosemary and her father tucking her into a straw bed. Those memories wouldn’t last, however, as they were over taken by a blur of different ceilings, tent canvas, the night sky, hard dirt and stone cobbles.

He taught her how to pick pockets and use those big blue eyes of hers to gain sympathy of the local tavern keeper for an extension on their bill. Sometimes he’d leave for days at a time, swearing he’d be back sooner than he ever was. They wouldn’t kick a little girl out on the streets now would they? He just needed to earn some extra coin.

It wasn’t usual for Evie to be put to work then, cleaning and sweeping, a little mouse scurrying here and there searching for crumbs and trying not to get stepped on. Eventually the little tavern mouse was being called Tav rather than her given name; a name she could hardly argue against, especially once her father left one final time, never to return. She was eight years old.

It was long after she was told to find a new place to stay. Her father was behind on payments and the owner didn’t want a Gur pick pocket hanging around his customers. That first night, alone on the street, was just about the worst of her entire life. For some time after those streets would be her home as she did what she could to eat and find a safe place to sleep, day after day as she searched for even a roof to have over her head.

Some merchants and tavern maids took pity on her, letting her stay for a time and earn her keep, but something would inevitably go missing and the finger would be pointed at her. It wouldn’t matter if they found nothing in her pack or in her bed roll or if the item was found a day later, she would be out on the street all over again.

This continued for years until she was about twelve years old working at an inn where a company of bards and actors came to perform. The leader, a tiefling named Lyric, was an extremely talent musician and Evie found herself absolutely entranced. The owner of this particular inn wasn’t especially kind and she knew she’d be accused of something sooner rather than later and so that night she snuck into the players caravan to left.

She was discovered the next morning, but rather than leave her in the middle of nowhere, Lyric took pity on her. So long as she earned her keep and didn’t slow down the caravan, he didn’t see the issue.

He taught her how to play once he discovered she had a talent for music, gifting her a violin. He wasn’t an warm man, but neither was he cruel. He was simply her mentor and just about the only stable force in her life. But like so many things, that would not last either.

When Evie was about seventeen, Lyric and a few other of the players were caught attempting to steal from a rather rich lord in town. He hasn’t told the others of this plan. The only reason Evie and the rest were able to escape was because another one of the group saw the arrest and warned the others to scatter. Evie was left again without a home or even acquaintances to rely on. All she had was a pack with five days worth of rations and a violin. But she would be alright, she’d been alone before. At least now she could make her own way.

Even so, every town she passed through, each new face she met, she found herself looking for something she couldn’t name. The bonds she made always felt temporary, slipping through her fingers the harder she held on. Still, she had to try.

Nothing in her history, however, could prepare her for an illithid ship and the group of weirdos she’s find herself apart of. There are worse ways to get to know people, although she’s having trouble thinking of what.

#baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 oc #tav #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion x evie #spawnsong #astarion #astarion ancunin #asexual!tav #bard!tav

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sirianasims · 7 months

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Chapter 1

Humble Beginnings and Weirdly Colour-Coordinated Aliens

This is Alexandra Duchelli, or Alex. Welcome to this legacy challenge simlit story, where we try to experience as much as possible. Right, Alex?

“Awesome, legacies are so much fun! Big houses, amazing clothes, great adventures! I can’t wait!”

Uhm, Alex? You’re a founder. You don’t have any money, remember?

“Oh. Crap.”

Yup. So you better start earning some money so you can get a roof over your head as soon as possible.

“I don’t even have a toilet!”

There’s a bush.

“… Right, better get going.”

After Alex grumbles through the first chords, we try the city to see if we can get some tips.

Poor Alex isn’t having much luck, and mostly receives smug looks from stuck-up townies.

Giving up on the tips for now, Alex goes to the karaoke club to brush up on her singing skills as well. You can’t be a singer-songwriter if you can’t sing.

This is also a great time for you to socialise, Alex! You should try meeting some new people.

“Some of these townies are a bit too friendly!”

Oh shush, stop complaining.

“Seriously, can I go home? Everyone in this city is weird!”

Oh come on, you’re just overreacting because you’re embarrassed that someone saw your attempt at swiping a drink. Maybe stay on the right side of the bar next time?

“No, I’m serious. There’s a man and a small girl outside just… staring… at a brick pillar.”

… Fine, you can go home.

“I’m not sure this is better.”

Shush, we need to get enough money that you’re allowed to get a job. And the tips are too slow.

“Isn’t it a bit counter-intuitive that I need to earn money before I can get a job?”

I don’t make the rules, Alex. Besides, I’m busy worrying about the aliens.

“The aliens?”

Yes. Apparently, the aliens are flocking to Oasis Springs, and somehow they mostly manage to be beautifully colour-coordinated. It’s honestly a bit unsettling.

Anyways, we need to find you a husband, This is a legacy, after all. How about this handsome fellow?

“Uhm… he seems a bit bookish. What about that hot guy over there?”

Oh honey. That’s Don Lothario. He’s bad news, you won’t get anywhere with him in a legacy, he’s non-committal. He’d be great as one of those enemies you’re supposed to get, though?

Alex catches up with the neighbours and even scores a dinner invitation to the Caliente house.

Nina: “Oh yeah, Don lives here too. Mom moved him in, she claimed she thought he would be a great fit for me or Dina, but I think she really wants him for herself. Anyways, no one is getting anywhere with him, he’s completely useless.”

“Alright, I’ll give up on Don. I guess I’ll find someone a bit less…occupied.”

Alex, who are you talking to? You should be in bed, or, I mean, tent, those skill points take energy.

“Oh, I just met these guys. This is Johnny and Malcolm. Apparently they’re brothers but there’s a lot of drama going on in the family.”

“Eww, can I have something else to eat soon?”

I mean, sure, you can buy all the food you want, but then it’ll just take longer for you to get a job, and thus to get a husband and a roof over your head?

“Dammit!”

As we head to the museum, I wonder. Is throwing up on a canvas art?

We also need those handiness skills, so Alex starts some woodworking.

Meanwhile, I am distracted by the amazing choice of shoes here.

Alex, wasn’t there a vase there, just a second ago?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”

And so it continues on, with dumpster meals…

… voice training…

… more dumpster meals…

… and more impeccably clad aliens.

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #don lothario #johnny zest #alexandra duchelli #duchelligen1

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notf1obsessed · 7 days

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wrapped round my finger: Carlos Sainz x Charles Leclerc (AU!)

Carlos and Charles are both automotive designers who are big names in the car industry, having worked with many companies before. They have both set aside their past, but what happens when they're forced to work together?

*EXPLICIT*

Chapter 3: Carmen

The boys, the girls, they all like Carmen,

She gives them butterflies, bats her cartoon eyes,

She laughs, like god, her mind's like a diamond,

Audiotune lies, she's still shining,

Like lightning, oh oh oh,

Like lightning,

- Carmen, Lana Del Ray

____________________________________________________________

The sunset's dim glow shone over the food stands, the voices of merchants attempting to attract customers accompanied by chattering groups and families. Charles and Carlos made their way to the ice cream stall, the younger one skipping all the way; earning a laugh from Carlos. Once they had arrived to the stall, Charles made a reach for his pocket, fetching some money. The expression of happiness now faded into one of disappointment as he took his hand out of his pocket; empty.

"Here, it's on me," assured Carlos smiling, handing the man a couple of notes. The other one's face lit up, smiling cheerfully. Taking the cones from the man and muttering a 'thank you', Carlos handed Charles one of the ice creams. Licking the soft cream, the younger one let out a satisfied moan at the taste; doing things to the Spaniard that he doesn't want to think about.

"It's delicious," he said between licks, walking over to sit on one of the benches. Finally trying his, Carlos nodded in agreement, "It's very sweet."

They both take a seat opposite each other, Carlos's back facing the sunset.

"Thank you," the monegasque mumbled.

"It's nothing," he assured, continuing to eat his ice cream.

Head tilting to the side, Charles smiled softly at the sight of the sunset; a beautiful canvas of yellows and oranges.

"The sunset is very pretty."

Like you, Carlos has the urge to say; though he decided against it. Instead, he nods in agreement.

Maybe one day he'll be able to tell Charles how he feels.

And so will Charles.

One day.

____________________________________________________________

The moon's dim glow offered little light to the vast venue below, misty clouds encircling the crescent. Flashing stars dotted the night sky, portraying white dots on a canvas. A black Mercedes, matching the colour of the sky above, pulled up near the venue; an anticipating Charles seated in front. Perfectly ironed, his scarlet dress shirt laid comfortably on his body, his navy trousers dropping to his shoes.

He had been invited to an event by Ferrari, trying to get their team to know each other better (though many knew it was just an excuse for Ferrari to throw another one of their lavish parties). Getting out of his car and entering through the gold doors, his eyes flicked through the place, not bothering to pay attention to the venue, but rather find people to talk to (if he was forced to come here, he might as well enjoy himself).

In contrast to outside, the venue was brightly illuminated by iridescent chandeliers; hanging high above the floor. Reflective, marble tiles lined the floor below, a large bar tucked in the back of the venue. Hurrying waiters offered drinks to the guests; most of them downing their drinks without actually knowing what concoction they were consuming.

Just to his luck, the first person to appear was none other than Carlos; the Monegasque's neutral expression now transforming into a menacing glare, shooting spears through the Spaniard. He was dressed in a white button up shirt, a black blazer resting over it; his entire chest was exposed, something only Carlos could get away with.

Trying to escape him, the Monegasque attempted to squirm his way through the crowd; muttering a few apologies when he hit someone.

"Charles, nice to see you here," Carlos's voice interrupted his dancing through the crowd.

Shit.

"Maybe it's because we're in a Ferrari event, Sherlock?" he responded, sarcasm and coldness dripping in his voice. Suddenly, a hand grabbed his wrist; forcing Charles to stop in his tracks. He knew whose hand that was, icy fingers tracing his veins.

Turning to face him, he was taken aback by the soft expression on Carlos's face; expecting a more harsh one in comparison to the bitch he's been acting towards him.

"Come, let me introduce you to some friends of mine."

Fuck no, he almost immediately spat out. Instead, he looked around; all eyes were on them. Deciding it was better to just agree to it and not stir up negative impressions about him, he simply nodded, face still stone cold.

Smiling softly, the Spaniard led him towards 2 people, male and female; his hand still holding a firm grip on Charles's wrist. It was only that they reached the pair did he let go of his wrist, the places where his fingertips were placed burning.

"This is Lando," he said gesturing to the man dressed in black. Shaking his hand out of courtesy, Charles opened his mouth but was cut off, "Charles, I know, Carlos talks about you allll-" he was stopped by a nudge to his shoulder, still grinning slyly. He raised an eyebrow at Lando but was brought back by Carlos speaking once more, "And this is Sophia." His tone was different this time, lower and softer, one filled with admiration.

Charles's gaze diverted towards the lady standing by the Spaniard. He swore she looked familiar, almost too familiar-

It suddenly clicked.

"Wait a minute, are you Ferrari's head of design?" He asked, shaking her hand. The brunette nodded, smiling.

How on earth is Carlos 'friends' with Ferrari's head of design? He questioned himself. Interrupting his thoughts, Lando began to speak; attempting to start some small talk which Charles continued into a conversation.

Throughout his conversation, he kept noticing the looks Sophia and Carlos exchanged; filled with love and admiration. It was only then had he noticed the arm snaked around her waist.

Oh.

Oh that son of a bitch.

"Will you excuse us for a second?" Charles suddenly interrupted the Brit, hand grabbing Carlos's wrist and leading him away from them. Raising an eyebrow, the older one looked back over his shoulder to try and offer a reassuring smile to them that 'they'll be back'; though he didn't even know where they were going.

"Where are you taking us, Charles?"

He didn't respond, instead, he countinued walking towards a room of some sort. Suddenly, Carlos was pulled into a bathroom, the monegasque's hand finally leaving his wrist.

"What is this about-"

"You fucking slept with her to get the position, didn't you?" Charles cut him off, tone somehow even colder and more harsh, this time filled with rage as well.

The Spaniard didn't respond, back straightening and expression hardening.

"Answer me," Charles demanded, turning to face him, encapsulating the man and making sure he couldn't leave under his gaze.

"I did," it was barely above a whisper, his gaze dropping to the ground.

The younger boy laughed, filling Carlos with even more worry, "Should've fucking known, you never work hard for anything. Using people then discarding them when you're done with them," it was extremely hard for his voice not to raise, "Just like you did to me." The memories flooded back into his head, that day after his 19th birthday, that morning his heart was broken, the day he lost a best friend, the day-

___________________________________________________________

Their mouths joined into a wet and heated kiss, Charles's soft lips pressed against the roughness of Carlos's. Wrapped tightly around Carlos's neck, Charles's arms held a dangling grasp on his nape; never wanting him to leave. Supporting him, the other boy's hands held a firm grip on his waist; rubbing circles into his sides. They stayed like this for a while, an exchange of unspoken emotions poured through their agape mouths conjoined; something both of them have wanted for a very long time.

Their tongues roamed freely, attempting to discover every inch of each other's mouths; twisting and turning in a messy dance. Eventually having to pull apart, their lips parted for a moment in one long string of spit, panting and flushing. The younger boy's eyes fluttered open to examine every detail of Carlos's face, tracing the liquorish hairs that dotted his chin. Gaze stopping at the other boy's eyes that bore a soft expression, his hands moved to cup his cheeks, rejoining their mouths in a slow, steady kiss; much less hungry than the first one.

"Fuck me," Charles mumbled against Carlos's lips, still panting and deprived of air. Wasting no time, the other one moved forwards, pushing Charles onto the soft, cream mattress. Fumbling with the buttons on his jeans, Carlos made quick work of them, discarding his jeans on the floor. As if they would die another second without the other's touch, their lips met again in a sloppy kiss as Carlos shimmied off Charles's trousers, his enlarging erection apparent in his white boxers. Charles tugged at the hem of the Spaniard's shirt; instructing him to take it off. Mouths parting for a brief moment, they both threw off their shirts; flinging them to some side of the bedroom.

Hurry up, Charles would plead, but he didn't want this to end. He didn't want Carlos's touch to leave, didn't want the feeling of his lips alone, he wanted the love that he poured through every touch and kiss.

Carlos quickly pulled off both of their boxers, freeing their enlarging cocks. He made a reach for the drawer, pulling out a tube of lube and squirting some on his hands. His fingers found their way to Charles's hole, teasing it with lube and withdrawing a shudder from him at the coldness.

"Tell me if it hurts," he instructed before slipping a finger in. Charles moaned loudly, a sound the other one will he hearing in his dreams. His finger was thicker than he expected, its size filling him with the perfect amount of pleasure. "More," he choked out, white knuckle grip on the sheets folding beneath his palms.

Following his orders, Carlos slowly placed another finger in, making sure not to hurt the Monegasque. Allowing his head to fall back, more sounds of guilty pleasure escaped his mouth, panting wordlessly. Carefully, the Spaniard's fingers began to scissor his hole, earning more moans from Charles.

"I'm ready," Charles pleaded, "Please." Carlos shook his head, "not until I say so." Charles groaned at the response, before being cutoff with his own moans of pleasure.

After a few more rounds of opening him up, the older boy reached over to put on a condom, Charles's heart racing with adrenaline and anticipation. Practically manhandling him, Carlos propped the younger boy's back against the pillows; giving him better access.

Suddenly, Carlos pushed in, earning an atrociously loud moan from Charles. In that moment, he felt all the air being sucked out of his lungs; yet it felt so good for some reasons. The fullness disappeared as Carlos pulled out, earning a groan from the Monegasque.

"Please Carlos," he begged; unusual for Charles to do, but in this moment he was desperate for it.

Desperate for Carlos.

He fucked in once more, this time hitting Charles's prostate.

If he thought the first time was good, then this was breath taking - metaphorically and literally. Muffled moans poured through his mouth as Carlos picked up a steady pace, face red and sweating.

"Carlos," he moaned, "I think I'm going to.." Nodding in agreement, he moved one hand from Charles's waist to his dick, working in fast and blurry thrusts.

"You're so tight, Charles," Carlos moaned, "So fucking perfect."

Gaze blurring with stars, Charles came with a loud yelp and moan, ribbons of white spurring out.

It felt like having his soul sucked out; but it felt so awfully good.

Coming a few seconds later as well, Carlos collapsed over Charles, face nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

Charles wasn't sure when he woke up, but Carlos was nowhere in sight.

And that was the last time he'd heard of him.

Until now.

#carlos sainz #charles leclerc #charlos #formula 1 #1655 #f1 #f1 fanfic #ao3 #ferrari

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genericpuff · 10 months

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I WANNA TALK ABOUT THE FUCKING EISNERS-

i've been finding lately that there are so many topics i still wanna talk about concerning LO and its development and they just don't happen because i get distracted or busy and my brain is like "ok we're just gonna pretend we've already talked about it even though we haven't" JFKDLSAJFDASKLFJSLKA

Let's talk about the Eisners and LO's recent 'win'.

I've already briefly mentioned in previous posts that LO has had a lot of its awards and accolades bought for it. This is especially true for both the NYT Bestseller label (seriously, none of those labels are ever earned, it's not some top 100 list that you compete on, it goes to whoever is willing to pay for it or whoever an editorial column wants to highlight) and, of course, the Eisner Award, which is not exactly an award judged by the industry's finest (the judges this year were made up of largely comic book shop owners and librarians).

But we're not here to talk about that. I wanna talk about what happened after LO won its second Eisner.

First off, the fact that it can be nominated at all when it doesn't even really fit the criteria for their submissions is sketchy at best:

see: "new, professionally produced long-form original comics work posted online in 2022." LO is not 'new'. Sure, it has new episodes, but I don't think that really follows the spirit of what they meant by 'new'. The Eisner doesn't seem like an award that should be granted to the same series twice, is my point, and that's one of the many complaints brought up in the absolute dressing down that LO got in its announcement post on the Webtoons Official IG page.

Of course, you can see for yourself right here.

But for the sake of fun, let's share some of the excerpts here.

(and yes I'm sharing a LOT of these because frankly I don't trust WT to not delete them in an attempt to hide all the shit that's being thrown at their precious "baby")

While names have been censored to protect the users involve, I will say one thing - this isn't some attempt from antiLO/ULO members to brigade the series' win, there are other comic creators in this discussion as well from the Canvas section who aren't pleased with seeing LO win another Eisner when there are multiple new series from this past year alone which deserve more attention than they're getting. Again, see for yourself if you click on the link above, the vast majority of comments on this post are expressing their disappointment and you can tell from how they've been sitting at the top while all the positive comments are being 'pushed' to the bottom - the like counts say it all.

All of this, paired with the fact that LO didn't win a SINGLE user-voted award during the Webtoonies, goes to show that the Webtoons audience is over LO. They're done with it. It's not relevant anymore, the only ones who still keep up with it are the stans and those holding on in the hopes that the story gets around to resolving the SA plotline and gets its TV show (which I've also mentioned has a real possibility of not happening, at least not now when it would count the most LMAO)

It still gets more likes than any other series on the platform (for now) but you can tell during its current hiatus that when LO is out of sight, it's out of people's minds - despite many of these episodes now being weeks old, their like counts aren't going up, no new readers are being pulled in. And the fact that a series with over 6 million subscribers can barely scratch 100k likes nowadays is... really something.

And that's on its free to read episodes, it's FP episodes - where views count the most because it's where LO makes its money and initial views - aren't even a fraction of what the free episodes often take well over a week to gain at this point.

Episode 252:

And the midseason finale, 253:

Compare it to Down to Earth which gets 70k likes on average on its free episodes (though its current new FP is sitting at the 1k mark), is LO still bringing in higher numbers than other series? Yes. But it's clearly falling to a point where it's going to be on par with every other comic on the platform in no time. I can't even imagine what it's going to be like after it comes back from this poorly-timed hiatus, when all of its official fan groups have also been shuttered preventing people from staying in touch within their own fandom.

Awards like the Webtoonies are, while largely just for street cred, still audience-based, and I really hope the fact that the people have spoken not once, but twice through their engagement with the platform - both through the comment section on LO's Eisner win and the votes in favor of other series in the Webtoonies - will be a major wake-up call to WT that they can't keep trying the same things over and over again expecting different results. They can't keep stuffing money into LO as if advertising or awards are the reason LO isn't pulling in the numbers it used to. They can't keep pretending that LO still has the merit and credibility that it once had 5 years ago.

It's like that comparison from Super Eyepatch Wolf talking about why you shouldn't take advice on how to be "successful" from Youtubers who got famous 5+ years ago:

"Say you decide you want to become a carpenter, and particularly, how to build a nice chair. Think about the kind of person you'd want to learn that skill from. Would it be from someone who has built nice chairs every day for 20 years? Or would it be the guy who built one nice chair five years ago out of a special kind of wood that doesn't exist anymore, who has no experience with the kind of wood available to you now?"

LO is a byproduct of a version of Webtoons that no longer exists. It was fortunate enough to join the Canvas section when the Canvas section was still only lightly populated, before WT started trying to sell the idea that anyone could become "rich" on their platform (an idea largely perpetuated by creators LIKE RACHEL who only became big because WT threw all of their money at them), before Greek myth comics became commonplace (again, something that's a consequence of Rachel/Lore Olympus) and before the romance genre became largely filled with problematic "dark" romances (again, see Lore Olympus).

Do you see the pattern of what I'm talking about here? A lot of what Webtoons became known for was a byproduct of Lore Olympus and series like it, because those series did phenomenally well, due to being in the right place at the right time, so WT went "hey, cool, this makes us lots of money! Let's do more of that!" Obviously this isn't to say that Lore Olympus is the root of all evil here OR that it didn't have its own merit back in the day, but if you make a series that blows every other series out of the water in stats, it's only natural for a company to want to pursue more series and story tropes like it in the hopes that it'll replicate exactly what comics like LO did, completely misunderstanding why LO did well in the first place. At the time, LO's art was unique for the platform, and it was tackling a story that was extremely popular on platforms like Tumblr so it naturally gained a crowd.

But that was five years ago. Since then, the WT audience climate has changed dramatically, as it always does every few years; and LO and WT haven't kept up. We went through a phase of BL, isekai, and now WT seems to be in an odd limbo because it's still clinging to a series from three whole lifetimes ago, especially now with so many of its other signature series either finally ending (True Beauty) or walking away from the platform entirely (Let's Play).

At this point, Lore Olympus is a chair that was nice five years ago, but has since started to fall apart - its paint is chipping, and its legs don't stand up so well anymore - and WT is still trying to sell it you as the exact same chair - with cheap new paint and a few bits and bobs attached to try and convince you that the chair is new - but it's long past its prime. This isn't to say that the chair itself doesn't deserve to exist, just that it shouldn't be given so much proprietary advertising and attention when there are so many other works on the platform that deserve to be uplifted and seen.

LO was good for its era, it was successful for a reason, but we're halfway through 2023 and it's painfully obvious that the comic and the platform's audience is ready to move on to new territories. Webtoons just needs to learn to let go.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus #essay post

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jvngkook97 · 2 years

Text

Art of the Soul

pairing; artist!jungkook x model!reader ft. DJ!yoongi

genre; angst, fluff, smut, f2l, artist au

warnings; y’all the angst is real in this one, slow burn(?), sexual tension, non-explicit implied smut, cursing, jealousy, infidelity, koo is extremely introvert except with reader, and reader is very outgoing and social which will cause some petty arguments, reader is also a major flirt in this one but she means well…mostly

rating; 18+

w/c; 11,758

a/n; this concept came to me from an artist koo compilation on YouTube that had me daydreaming on some “what if’s”. more specifically, ‘what if Jungkook used your body as a canvas’ and it was really soft and cute and then I realized I needed this in my life and maybe you do too so here you go! ps - the gif will make more sense at the end. I’m so sorry. 🫠 like + reblog if you enjoyed. feedback is always appreciated! tysm <3

Read Part Two {Here}

He walked towards you with the backdrop of flashing lights from the countless amounts of paparazzi that flanked him. If it wasn’t for the security that also adorned his sides at a healthy distance, they would’ve swarmed him by now. His name was being yelled like some kind of mantra within the enclosed space, all vying to get even a second of his attention in order to get their ‘money shot’.

He would bow politely, and shoot heart signs with his hand, but unfortunately for them, that’s all he would be willing to give today. His attire alone shielding his face, all that was showing was his wide, doe, eyes. The black face mask covered his bunny toothed grin, and the matching black baseball cap successfully hid his newfound haircut he recently debuted during one of his art shows. His full body, black ensemble from his head, down to his toes, gracefully glided over to you with open arms. The action making the mantra of Jungkook’s name, now switch to yours upon seeing your figure wrapped up in his.

“Y/N! Y/N! LOOK OVER HERE!”

Paparazzi, reporters, and fans alike all screamed your ‘ship’ name in fervor. Hearing the cheesy name made you snort in Jungkook’s ear. His own chest rumbled beneath you both at your rather unladylike snort, and the equally as cringey name that also graced his ears. Pulling down your own mask, you decided to give the people what they wanted and leaned up to kiss Jungkook on his still face mask covered lips, the only reason you chose that spot. If it was uncovered, you would’ve opted for his cheek instead, knowing to actually kiss him on the lips would be crossing the line, but cloth covered was just playful and cheeky.

They ate it up just like you thought they would. A few paparazzi instantly departing in order to get the opportunity to upload the shot first for the world to see and to get the most money. Jungkook gave you the stink eye, but just shook his head in mock surrender, used to your spontaneous acts of affection over the years of knowing you. Pulling away from his hold, his large hand slid down your arm to engulf your small one in his to lead you safely through the airport to the unmarked, tinted, black SUV, that would serve as your saving grace from the barrage of people.

Once inside, you both waved for a few moments more as security closed the door behind you. The one action alone making the enclosed space get enveloped in a blanket of silence. The only sound to be heard was the soft singing that came from the radio in the front, and the faded, muffled, yells from the crowd surrounding your car as you departed. Taking off your masks simultaneously, you faced Jungkook as best you could within the confines of your seatbelt with a shit eating grin.

“You’re so annoying, y/n.” His rolled his eyes at you playfully, earning a middle finger from both of your newly manicured hands in retaliation.

“You know you love me, kookie.” You winked at him with a sideways ‘v’ being held up over your eye, before asking him the dreaded question.

“How did it go in London? Were you able to see her?” You asked the question with an underlying tone of sincerity and minor disgust. Your whole body inwardly cringing in on itself at the indirect mention of her, Jungkook’s on and off again girlfriend of nearly a whole year, Isla.

Someone who you regretted ever introducing him to unintentionally at one of the London fashion shows you participated in alongside her, him coming to wish you well before the show started with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. She happened to be in line with walking after you on the runway, so she was waiting patiently behind you when he walked up to you. His eyes flickering behind you in her direction with his cheeks painted a pink hue that wasn’t there a second ago, is all the hint you needed to step aside and introduce the pair to their annoying, toxic, soon to be tragic, love story. And your fated, unreciprocated, one-sided, utterly friend zoned relationship with the male.

It was sickening the amount of times he would call you at four in the morning to go on yet another anger induced rant over why either she or him broke it off for the millionth time that month. You would then be forced to wait patiently for him to finish before monotonously telling him the same phrase you always did as a half assed attempt of consoling him over the matter, ‘you’ll get through this, you always do’, even though you already knew that by the time you woke up alone in your California king sized bed the next morning you would find a short text from Jungkook saying ‘we’re back together’. And the toxic cycle would continue, each time digging the metaphorical knife into your already bloody and scarred heart. The same heart that would woefully hope that the reason for their next break up would be because he came to the sudden epiphany of being in love with you, not her.

It never happened. And it never will happen.

You came to your own conclusion five break ups ago when he FaceTimed you the next day and showed you an engagement ring he had custom made for her. A fucking ring. He mistook the tears in your eyes as ones of happiness for them, when in actuality, you were inwardly letting go of all your feelings you held pent up inside over him. It was in that heartbreaking moment you realized you were done. And you moved on, or tried too.

Jungkook manspreaded all over his side of the car, leaning back into the car seat from exhaustion and jet lag. He tilted the bill of his cap down over his face before giving you a muffled reply.

“We broke up, then had make up sex. So, I guess we’re still together?” His muffled voice sounded more confused with his own words than confident. Flicking his cap back up yourself with your finger, you gave him a look. He let out a loud sigh, not wanting to hear your snide remarks about his relationship. He was well aware it wasn’t a good one. Instead, he tried changing the subject of relationships over to your recently changed status he only found out through the inflight news on the flight back.

“It’s always about Isla and I, but what about you, y/n?” He waggled his eyebrows at you before continuing, “How is your love life, huh? You’re with….what’s his name?” He feigned being in thought, then snapped his fingers in mock enlightenment. “Ah, yes! Min Yoongi.”

*******

It wasn’t easy. In fact, it was difficult for you to let down your walls enough to even humor the opposite sex with flirtatious comments and banter. Let alone to accept a date and the later offer of a ‘good time’ at their place of stay, cause you never wanted them to know where you lived. Having dealt with a stalker before, you didn’t want to go through the same traumatizing situation again.

It wasn’t until you crossed paths with Min Yoongi did your walls completely break down. You met him from an after party. He was the DJ for the evening, and having an affinity and admiration for all things music, you always made sure to greet the DJ’s and give a heartfelt thank you for their complex, amazing, work. Normally, all conversations would end there, but there was a certain aura that Yoongi exuded. It made you want to learn more.

He apparently felt the same pull as you did, and extended an invitation for you to tour his studio. You agreed, and after he wrapped up his show, you both left separately to his studio in order to avoid any unwanted attention. Upon your arrival, you found it was a modest, yet equally as intimate studio that connected to his modern style home.

What really sealed the deal for you was the overwhelming patience and kindness that he had for you. It didn’t matter if you were talking a mile a minute, where your focus would easily switch from one topic to another due to your excitement, he still made sure to be the ever perfect gentleman. And not once did he lay a hand on you, or try to attempt anything with you further than conversation. No sly suggestions, no racy comments, and no ulterior motives laced his words or actions the entire time. You didn’t think men like him still even existed in this world, but he proved you wrong.

After that fateful encounter, you made sure to exchange numbers. At first, it was just simple texts asking how the day was going, or if either of you had an upcoming project you were excited about and wanted to share. It was all strictly, friendly. The flirting didn’t start until after the first candid photos of you two taking a night stroll through a park after dinner, ignited the rather cheeky side of you to come out. You texted him the day after once you saw the story had dropped online, having been tagged in it various times on multiple social media accounts.

Good thing they didn’t capture us at a weird angle when I was leaning up to fix your scarf. They probably would’ve edited it to look like we were kissing. LOL. 🤪

Agust D 💦: Would that have been so bad though? If they did catch us kissing?

Too busy fixing your morning coffee for the day, you didn’t get a chance to look at his text until after you were comfortably seated on your loveseat sofa in your living room. You just took a swig of your liquid crack, when you effectively spit it right back out with wide eyes when you did finally read his reply. Holy shit. Was he being serious right now? Typing back a cautious reply, you tried to keep a playful tone, incase he was joking and just didn’t express it through text cause that’s how he was, not being one to use emojis all that often like you.

I mean, it wouldn’t necessarily be bad. I could only imagine the amount of fans that would bombard my socials with death threats, but I would be able to handle them if it meant being with you. Hahahaha. 🤭

Having sent out the first part, you immediately went to type a ‘jk’, but before you could, he replied back. Looking at his reply, you had to reread it multiple times, not truly believing what he just said. The school girl squeal coming out of your mouth as if you were suddenly back in grade school and your crush just admitted they liked you.

Agust D 💦: In fear that I may have misinterpreted previous gestures as you just being friendly, please just ignore this text all together and send me that skull emoji because I will effectively be dead from embarrassment. Otherwise, on the slim chance that you may just like me as much as I like you, I propose we try this whole kissing, hand holding, exclusive, societal term of dating and become boyfriend/girlfriend.

I both just spat out my coffee and squealed like a fucking school girl, so safe to say, that yes, I second your proposal and even go so far as to raise your brilliant suggestion with another hell-motherfucking-yes, Min Yoongi. I would love to be your girlfriend. If only for societal appeasement. Lol jk. But no, seriously, I’m so happy rn. Please tell me I’ll be able to kiss your cute face soon. 🥹

Agust D 💦 : And if you could hear my extreme exhale of relief, you wouldn’t feel as bad. It’s an honor to have you as a girlfriend, y/n. And I’ll be back in town tomorrow evening. Would you like to have dinner? I can cook your favorite meal at my place if you don’t feel like going out in public.

Another reason you fell so hard for the man? On top of being considerate of your feelings? Min Yoongi was an amazing chef. There is nothing that he could cook for you that won’t have you salivating in anticipation of taking the first bite. Or prevent the shameless moans that would emit from your mouth upon savoring the rich flavor it never ceased to have.

He was basically the whole fucking package.

And he was yours. How? You’ll never know.

It wasn’t until you got an incoming call from Jungkook to remind you to pick him up at the airport tomorrow, did you realize there may be a slight change in plans with your now boyfriend. You only hoped that he wouldn’t mind the sudden intrusion, him already well aware how close you and Jungkook are, but he knows you’re just friends and doesn’t feel threatened by him. Another breath of fresh air that had you swooning over Yoongi even more, cause just like you thought, he didn��t mind the extra company. He even went so far as to ask you what Jungkook’s favorite meal was, so he could make it for him.

You wanted to cry from how sweet and thoughtful and selfless he was. You truly didn’t deserve him. But you’ll try your damndest to be worthy of his affection.

*******

Which led you to where you are now, Jungkook being none the wiser.

You chuckled nervously at him, one that had his brows raising into his hairline from the sudden change in your usually confident personality. Yet he waited for you to spit out whatever it was that you were holding in, him crossing his arms over his chest, still in his lax position.

“Yeah, about that…,” you trailed off with a sheepish smile before word vomiting the rest, “We’re actually headed over to Yoongi’s place now to have dinner and it’s going to be our first time together being boyfriend and girlfriend so you’ll be there to witness it, yay!” You threw your hands up in a ‘surprise’ gesture, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

He gave you a blank stare as if still processing the words that just flew out of your mouth at the speed of light, his still sleepy and jet lagged brain fighting to keep up with the new time zone.

“Excuse me, what?” He stated, voice emotionless.

It had you questioning if you shouldn’t just cancel the dinner plans with Yoongi and avoid a potentially awkward situation. But then you thought back to the many times you had to play the third wheel in Jungkook and Isla’s dates when they first started talking, and all the silent cringing and gagging you did while watching them flirt with each other shamelessly in public as if you weren’t even there.

Sitting up straighter, you felt more confident in your decision.

“Yoongi invited me over to dinner tonight, and it’ll be our first time being together as more than just friends, since we’re dating now. You’re welcome to come if you’d like, or I can have my driver drop you off at home. The choice is yours.” You reiterated your last statement, but at a normal pace.

He grunted to himself as his eyes closed, head tilting back against the headrest. For a minute, you didn’t even expect him to reply back to you, or if he did, just to say no and laugh at you like you’re crazy for even suggesting such a thing. However, to your surprise, he said quite the opposite.

“Sure.” He shrugged his shoulders as best he could in the position he was in. Not wanting to reopen his eyes, he tilted the bill of the baseball cap back over his eyes and gave you the ‘ok’ signal with one hand he set free from his previous crossed arms. Then, you could only assume, he fell asleep. Cause he just stopped talking with you after that.

Knowing it was going to be a long ride, you texted Yoongi of Jungkook’s surefire attendance to notify him ahead of time incase he needed to prep anything beforehand. Ironically, he gave you the same ‘ok’ symbol, but this time through text.

Making yourself comfortable, you wrapped your jacket tighter around you and leaned your own head back to get some rest for tonight. You were going to need it.

*******

You expected Yoongi to greet you at the door like he normally does, yet this time, it was his housekeeper, Mrs. Yang, that greeted you and a half asleep Jungkook.

“Mrs. Yang! What a surprise. Is Yoongi okay?” You questioned her, worried.

Opening the door wider she gestured you both inside to get out of the cold of autumn. Walking inside, you both switched your shoes out for house slippers and hung your coats up on the rack that was conveniently next to the door. Once the door was shut behind you both, did Mrs. Yang reply.

“Yoongi is fine, dear. He’s just finishing up in the kitchen. He said you’re more than welcome to join him in there, or I can take you to where you’ll be dining this evening. Which would you prefer?” She explained and asked you politely, hands clasped in front of her like usual.

“In the kitchen–,” you said.

“In the dining–,” Jungkook echoed at the same time.

Both of you stared at each other, having a silent, yet intense conversation with your eyes. You wanted to see Yoongi as soon as possible, and you loved watching him work in the kitchen, it was one of your favorite things to do. But of course, Jungkook being ever the introvert, would want to just immediately hide away and avoid meeting Yoongi as long as possible. You loved Jungkook, but sometimes his personality could prevent you from doing stuff that you wanted to do. Like now.

Letting out a quiet sigh of defeat, you looked at Jungkook, giving him a mini glare. His eyes crinkled as he gave you a small smirk, knowing that he won the silent battle. You turned your attention back to Mrs. Yang, who was still patiently waiting for your definite answer.

“We can wait for Yoongi inside the dining room, if that’s okay, Mrs. Yang.” You gave her a small smile, one she returned in full as she bowed at you both before gesturing you guys to follow her down the hall towards the dining room.

While she was walking ahead with her back towards you both, you took the opportunity to slap your hand rather harshly against Jungkook’s chest, making him wince and mouth a ‘what the fuck’ at you, now rubbing the sore spot with his hand. All you did was point your finger at him with a look that could kill. He rolled his eyes at you before reaching out to pinch your lovehandle in retaliation. His action making you jump a little, gaining the attention of Mrs. Yang enough for her to glance back at you both while still leading you. Both of you straightened up immediately upon her stare and gave fake smiles.

Arriving at the dining room, it was already set up with an expensive looking dish set for three people, various appetizers already littered the table. You can even see some of your favorites, which had you smiling lovingly at the spread, an action Jungkook didn’t fail to notice, making him inwardly gag at your lovesick look. Jungkook stepped up to the table first, cutting you off. You gave him a look of confusion.

He pulled your chair out, and nodded his head at you to sit down, which you did, cautiously, still giving him a weird look. In all the 6 years of knowing him, he’s not once pulled your chair out for you. Interesting. Eyeing him warily, he sat down across from you, taking up the second set of dishes that were laid out, the only one left was at the head table, where you presumed Yoongi would sit, since it was his house and all.

Mrs. Yang poured you both a fresh glass of water before asking if you’d like any wine. You refused politely, and Jungkook agreed to a red wine, which she also poured for him after fetching it from his wine cellar. Once you were both situated and comfortable, did she take her leave, saying that Yoongi should be arriving shortly with the rest of the food and she was going to leave for the rest of the evening. Jungkook and you half bowed in your seated position at her and gave thanks for her hospitality. She bowed politely back with a smile and left, the front door opening and closing shortly after. It wasn’t until the door shut, did your boyfriend make his appearance.

Holding a rather large tray in his hands, he carefully walked towards the table to set it just as delicately in the free space located conveniently in the middle of the table where you could all easily reach it. Your eyes widened at the plethora of food, both of your favorites and Jungkook’s. It made you smile at him with glee, clapping lightly in thanks. Yoongi chuckled at your actions, and gave a mock bow. Jungkook just stared at the delicious looking food with a ravenous look, before collecting himself enough to both comment and greet Yoongi in his usual fashion of a introvert.

“Hey, I’m Jungkook. The food looks amazing. May I?” He looked at Yoongi for approval, hands already reaching out with chopsticks and a bowl to grab his favorite, ramyeon. Yoongi nodded his head with a smile and greeting of his own, still standing.

“Nice to meet you, Jungkook. I’m Min Yoongi, but please, call me Yoongi. And by all means, dig in, it was made for you specifically.”

His attention turned to you as Jungkook started to inhale his noodles. A quiet moan could be heard from the male across from you, one you knew all too well, having made your own to Yoongi’s food countless times. You could tell, he was in heaven.

Yoongi’s eyes gave a look of confusion, but not necessarily at you.

“Why are you sitting there, y/n?”

Now it was your turn to give him a look.

“What?”

Standing behind the head table chair, he pulled it out, before taking a stand behind yours and gently scooting it back. Maneuvering to your side, he held out his hand for you to take, which you did, still not understanding what was wrong with your seat. Yoongi guided you the few short steps to the head of the table, waiting for you to sit down. Once you were, he gently pushed your chair in, then resumed to occupy your previous seat. Switching out your glasses for you, he made sure your set up was complete before taking your hand in his with a smile.

“You were meant to sit there, Mrs. Yang must have forgot. I thought it would make more sense if you were between the both of us, in case Jungkook feels more comfortable being next to you.” He explained his reasoning, once again making your heart swell with joy due to his natural, caring nature.

Jungkook was listening, but still eating, so he didn’t comment. Not that he exactly wanted too in the first place. He’ll never admit it out loud, but he was grateful for the seating change. He did feel better with you closer. Unfortunately for Jungkook, it seems like Yoongi was interested in getting to know his girlfriend’s best friend.

Yoongi took a bite of his food and swallowed before shifting his line of sight to Jungkook. Observing the male in front of him, he realized he was younger than expected. All the stories you told of Jungkook made him seem older, especially from all the various accomplishments he’s already made due to his art. Having looked up his artwork already, he opted not too look up any personal info, wanting to get it directly from the male himself. And the only thing you did tell him, was that he was engaged, which was also public knowledge at this point, so it’s not like you were divulging any secrets.

“I hear a congrats is in order.”

Not realizing that Yoongi was directing the statement to Jungkook, the oblivious male continued to shovel various other food in his mouth. Kicking Jungkook under the table with your foot is what made Jungkook snap his head up at you with a mouthful of food before swallowing loudly and glaring at you.

You steeled your own gaze at him with a tight smile on your face and tilted your head towards your boyfriend.

“Yoongi is talking to you Jungkook, don’t be rude.” You started off calm before your voice became more sharp at the end. Jungkook only stared harder at you before relenting his head to look at Yoongi and finally acknowledge him.

With a tight, bunny toothed, grin, he asked Yoongi to repeat his question. He managed to sound genuinely sorry so you’ll give him points for his on the spot acting. And then scold him later. Hearing Yoongi for the second time, he was able to give a genuine smile to your boyfriend before replying.

“Yeah! I asked my girl to marry me recently, she said yes. Thank you!” He looked happy when he said it, as he should, but you couldn’t help but feel some type of way about it. You chalked it up to the few sips of Yoongi’s wine that you stole for making your emotions go all over the place. Jungkook continued speaking, much to your surprise.

“Did you know that it was y/n that introduced us?” He nodded his head in your direction for emphasis, making you let out a small laugh to confirm his statement. How could you forget? It used to be one of the worst days of your life, after all.

“Yes. She did mention that she introduced you two, but didn’t tell me the full story. Would you mind..?” He trailed off with a smile, waving his hand at Jungkook in a silent way of telling him to reveal the whole story. Unfortunately for you, he was more than happy to oblige. Even going so far as to disregard his remaining food and lean further in his chair towards Yoongi to recall the story fondly.

What little smile you had left immediately vanished behind the facade of now fully grabbing Yoongi’s drink to chug down the rest of the red wine. Unbeknownst to you, though Yoongi was facing towards Jungkook during his story, his peripheral was on you. So he noticed the slip in your mood. He’d have to ask you about it later.

It felt like Jungkook kept making the story longer than it really was, the clock mocking you with each loud ‘tick’. Swallowing yet another glass of your only reprieve for the night, you pouted when you grabbed the now empty bottle of wine in your hands before setting it back down with a – you thought quiet sigh, but apparently not, cause both male’s turned to you at your heavy, loud, exhale. Oops.

Clearing your throat at the sudden attention, you sat up from your once relaxed position in your chair that you settled for when the story kept droning on, long since finishing your food after the first 20 minutes of it.

“What?” You eyed the two males, but due to your up until now, quiet persona, when you opened your mouth to say the word, it got stretched out with the sudden yawn that came out to accompany it. Your entire body screamed that you were tired, both of them could tell. It was Yoongi that would come to your rescue, much to Jungkook’s hidden displeasure.

“As enjoyable as this was, we should probably call it a night. It looks like our y/n, here, is ready to pass out in her chair.” Jungkook didn’t miss, or like the way he said our. It left a sinking feeling in his stomach as soon as the simple word left his mouth. But he couldn’t argue with him over it, cause technically, it was true. He might have been your best friend, but Yoongi was your boyfriend, your lover. It held more weight to his title.

Nodding in agreement, Jungkook went to help clean up and clear the table, until Yoongi suddenly sprung up out of his chair in a flourish. The action startling you enough to wake you up and follow suit to Jungkook’s ministrations. Now he looked at both of you with an embarrassed look across his face, waving his hands in front of him in a fervor, he tried to stop you both.

“Please, you don’t have to help clean up, I’ve got it covered. You’re my guests–,” he stuttered the sentence out, losing his confidence in the matter now that he’s well and sober. His recluse side wanting to shy away from the innocent act of hospitality and just being a kind person, cause he wasn’t used to it, having company. Being doted over. It was unnatural to him, foreign.

But you both chose to ignore his pleas of stopping, it only making you two want to do it more. Stacking up the dishes, Jungkook gestured for you to stack yours on top of his already haphazardly stacked pile. You, being ever the smart one, made a show to stack your pile on top of the large tray Yoongi first brought out that could hold much more than you both ever could. Jungkook chuckled at your smarts, and you just winked at him, sinking back into the pleasant atmosphere it once was before the dreaded story came up.

Yoongi’s shoulders sagged in defeat, him reaching out to help gather his own dishes to set on the tray, before you gently swatted his hands away with your own and gave him a warm smile.

“Baby, please. You went through the hassle of cooking dinner and setting this up for us, it’s the least we can do. You just relax, okay?” You spoke in such a soft voice, it made Jungkook pause in his actions, savoring the warmth it brought to his body even though you weren’t even talking with him. It was just the kind of effect you had on him, but he’d never tell you.

He had Isla, he had to remind himself. He chose Isla. And you chose Yoongi. Now, he had to live with the consequences of his actions he didn’t act upon when he should’ve. Back when he once had a chance.

Feeling you both were about to share an intimate moment he didn’t want to be apart of, let alone witness, he noisily clustered Yoongi’s dishes on the tray and grabbed the handles, lifting it up with ease.

“If you could point me to the kitchen, I can bring these over there for you.” His voice was flat when he spoke, something you noticed, but didn’t comment on. Yoongi didn’t pick it up, thankfully, too focused on your figure in front of him and the way you made him feel with just your words alone.

Sparing a glance at Jungkook, Yoongi smiled at him in gratitude and gave him directions to the kitchen, informing him that he could just set them next to the sink and he would wash them later. Jungkook just clicked his tongue at him in a way of saying ‘got it’ and left the room in a brisk, yet careful pace.

You followed his figure until he went out of sight, your brows furrowed at his change of demeanor. You swear, his moods could give you whiplash. With a touch of his hand on your cheek, Yoongi had you looking back at him. You didn’t even realize exactly how close to you he got since Jungkook’s absence.

“Are you okay, y/n?” His face showed concern, though you don’t know why.

“I’m fine, Yoongs. And thank you for an amazing meal and evening. I think even Jungkook might’ve had a good time, and he’s a tough guy to please.” You joked with a light chuckle, leaning into the hand that still caressed your cheek.

“I’m glad to hear that, I was worried he wouldn’t like me.” His confession made your eyes widen. He usually never cares what people think of him, so why now?

“You? Were worried about someone liking you? Are you okay, Min Yoongi? Are you sick?” You playfully placed the back of your hand against his forehead, acting as if you were checking his temperature. He rolled his eyes at you playfully back, lowering your hand gently only to hold it in his own.

“Of course I want him to like me. He’s your best friend, y/n. If he doesn’t like me, then I’m basically cut. Out. Shouldn’t even exist if I’m being honest, cause you’re the only good thing I’ve got going for me.” At his words, you let out a laugh, thinking he was joking. He wasn’t, you soon realized, when he didn’t laugh along with you, looking at you as if you were something he wasn’t worthy of having in his life.

To him, you were just a friend, until you weren’t. It happened so smoothly, so naturally, he didn’t see it coming, until it did. And now, as bad as it may sound, he can’t picture life without you, nor does he want too. But he can’t help the nagging feeling in his gut that something is up with you and your best friend. And that that something is more than capable of Jungkook taking you from him in more ways than one.

But he knows, as you look at him with a look of worry and, dare he say, maybe even a hint of love, he doesn’t have the heart or courage to ruin the seemingly nice evening you three shared by voicing his concerns. It’ll have to wait for another time, when the source of his concern isn’t in the next room.

Your only reply to his statement was to lean up and kiss him softly, yet meaningfully, on his perfect lips. Using your actions, rather than your words you know would only hurt him if you told the truth. And right now? You wanted to enjoy your time with Yoongi, without the lingering thought that is Jungkook, burrowing himself more into your heart and mind like he always does.

Successfully ending the too deep conversation in your current state of mind, you sank into Yoongi and all he had to offer, hands splayed against his chest to keep you upright in his hold. Yoongi returned your affection ten fold, effectively getting lost in you and forgetting where you two were.

A throat clearing behind you is what broke you two apart, both of you coming to your senses as you sheepishly stared at each other as if you got caught doing something worse than what you actually were. Wiping the lipstick that somehow made it onto Yoongi’s lips with your thumb, had the male’s cheeks lighting up in a pale pink hue. The sight had you chuckling fondly at him, before you gave him one last quick peck on the lips. Pulling away for the last time, you patted his chest and stepped away from him to look over at Jungkook.

He stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, looking straight through you at Yoongi with a glint in his eyes you’ve never seen before. Tilting your head into his line of sight, you broke whatever spell he was under. Giving him a ‘you good?’ look, he shook his head at you before gesturing towards the front door and directing his attention back at the host of the now night, seeing as the windows were encased in blackness around you.

“I’m gonna head out. The dishes are by the sink. You can stay if you want, y/n. Wouldn’t want to interrupt anything.” He glowered at you pointedly, a not so subtle jab that you definitely noticed. “I’ve already called for a car, they’re waiting for me outside. So I’ll call you later, okay? Thank you for the nice evening, Yoongi. It was a pleasure to meet you.” He half assed a bow, then gave a shit eating grin and walked out of sight. Shortly after, you heard the tall tale sign of him leaving, as the door opened and closed. The heavy door leaving a loud noise in it’s wake, as it cut through the silence like a knife.

*******

Jungkook would contact you a few days later. When you asked what made him suddenly drop off the face of the planet after your evening at Yoongi’s, he used the ruse of working on a ‘new project’ as his excuse of ignoring your texts and calls. You didn’t believe him, but you humored him anyways. The reason he called you, however, was because he had a model that cancelled on him last minute, and he was in desperate need of another. So, naturally, he thought about you, his best friend who could never say no to any of his requests, especially when it came to something as important as his art.

He didn’t really explain what it is you had to do, but you trusted him fully, so you didn’t really care. Sending you the address to his own new art studio, he told you to come over as soon as possible. Thankfully, it was only 20 minutes away from your place, so the ‘as soon as possible’ request was possible to accomplish.

When you arrived to his studio, you were let in by his assistant who was leaving for the day. He told you Jungkook was finishing up a previous project and wanted you to wait for him in the main lobby area. Though walking into the lobby, you were surprised. The ambience of the place exuded a romantic aura. The lights were dimmed and there’s even a bottle of bubbly sitting in a bucket of ice cubes on a table in the middle of the room, but no glasses. Weird.

Looking around the spacious room, it’s tidy and modern. You can see his artistic taste shine in the way it’s decorated. You couldn’t wait to get a tour of the rest. Just as you went to touch one of the many statues that littered the room, you could hear footsteps behind you. Pivoting in your heels, you came face to face with a grinning Jungkook who held two wine glasses in his hands. Ah, so that would explain the missing glasses.

Holding his arms out to his sides, you noticed his loose tank top he was wearing was splattered with various colors of paint along with his worn out jeans, a tall tale sign that he was finishing up an art project like his assistant told you. Some paint even made it onto his face, which had you lightly giggling at his appearance, but you were used to it.

“What do you think of the place?” He asked you, genuinely curious of your opinion that he held in high regards, knowing you would never lie to him. One of the many things he liked about you, you were blunt, yet honest.

“Wow, it looks great in here!” Your voice and facial expressions showed pure awe and admiration. You only wished you had a sliver of his artistic taste to decorate your own place as simple, yet luxurious as this. “Looks like you have a little more than just a photo shoot prep in mind…” you trailed off, looking at him with a raised eyebrow and coy smile. Being a model, you naturally assumed his new art project had to do with a photo shoot, one of the many ways he created art.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Jungkook? I don’t think Yoongi or Isla would like that very much.” You playfully jested at him, as he set the glasses down on the table to uncork the wine.

“Oh, absolutely.” He cheekily threw at you, winking at you and laughing heartily. His eyes meet yours as he straightens up and once again holds both wine glasses in his hands to walk towards you, his expression becoming more genuine.

Once he’s in front of you, he offers you one of the glasses that you graciously take and swallow a big swig of. You needed it after your own grueling day of work you had yesterday, working with a photographer that was infamous for his harsh critiques during his photo shoots as he strived to get the best pictures possible. You initially wanted to vent to your best friend, but when he refused to answer you, you decided to vent to Yoongi instead, who was more than happy to lend you a listening ear. His comforting words and presence alone, stifled the anger and self deprecating thoughts you held, and for the first time ever, you both spent the rest of the evening in his bed tangled in sheets. It was everything you dreamed it would be, and more.

“I mostly wanted to make it up to you for bailing on you so suddenly.” His face looked sullen as he swirled the wine in his glass gently before taking a sip of his own. “And anyways, who’s to say we can’t get some work done, and have some quality time together simultaneously?”

“I’ll cheers to that!” You lifted your glass towards his as you both clinked them together and took another big gulp in sync.

“I even have something else in mind, other than the usual photo shoot.” He said it with a mysterious tone, making you narrow your eyes at him with caution. Just what exactly did he have up his non-existing sleeves? “You wanna hear it?” The excitement he now showed in his voice and facial expression was infectious. You’re curious to see what he has planned for you, which is exactly what you tell him.

“My big priority for tonight is color tests. I was hoping you’d let me practice on you?” His usual confident demeanor turned into a shy one right in front of your eyes, only getting worse with his following explanation that made your eyes widen and cheeks burn under the low light of the room. “Your back would make the perfect canvas for this.”

“Am I going to have to stand very, very still for this?” As much as you loved helping him, you were going to dread having to stand in one spot for potential hours.

“Stand?” He echoed you with a deep chuckle. “No, no! We’re going to use my bedroom.”

“Bedroom?” This time it was you echoing his response. What bedroom is he talking about? Not that you weren’t familiar with his bed, having innocently crashed in it with him on multiple occasions. But it never related to anything needed for his art, so you were very intrigued now.

“Do you want me to show you where I get my best work done?” He asked you with a raise of his brow.

“My interest is peaked. By all means.” You gestured at him with your almost empty glass of wine, before chugging the rest. He followed suit and grabbed your glass from you to set them both back on the table.

Jungkook then walks past you, waving at you to follow him as he does. He leads you down the same path he took to get to you in the lobby, but this time in the opposite direction, towards his bedroom. One, he explained during the short walk there, he had in case he needed to stay over night and finish up any projects at the studio. Stepping into the bedroom, he waits for you to walk inside before he turns to you to speak.

“First, let me get a little more comfortable and keep the mess to a minimum.” He winks at you, reaching back behind him to grab the material of his shirt, his elbows now on either side of his ears, effectively making his muscles strain from the action as he pulls his shirt off. You would think the sight would have you hot and bothered, cause normally, it would. Now that you have Yoongi, however, whose body is just as delectable, if not moreso than the male’s in front of you, to satiate your sexual desires, you don’t even flinch.

A realization that Jungkook notices, having secretly always watched your facial expressions to him undressing in front of you with a hidden sense of power over knowing he could get that kind of lust filled reaction out of you. Not that he would ever act on it, of course, having a girlfriend. His pants pool to his feet next, that he kicks off somewhere unceremoniously. And now he’s left in nothing other than his short, skin tight, black, boxers. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t sneak a peak at the very obvious bulge that was prominent within the confines of his boxers, both a blessing and a curse in your opinion, of just how endowed Jungkook is.

Waiting for his instructions, you stood there, stiffly. All of the sudden feeling very overdressed, and slightly uncomfortable with the whole scenario. But you agreed to help Jungkook, and if this is what he needed, you would oblige him.

Pointing over to the bed with a lazy finger, he gave you your first instructions.

“Can you lay down on your stomach for me and just get comfortable?” He asked you, fully giving you the chance to back out and say no if you wanted too. You didn’t. Having avoided looking at the rather large object in the room, the bed, you now saw that all the blankets were shoved off for the occasion. And there was even an equally as large, white, silk sheet that was draped over the entirety of the bed that you would be laying on top of.

You crawl your way to the middle of the bed and lay face down, your head laying comfortably on one of his pillows that was conveniently left. You can feel the bed dip as Jungkook makes his way on the bed himself. He takes the position of straddling you, his butt coming to sit directly on top of yours. In one hand, he already has a paintbrush, and occupying his other hand is his palette of various colors of paint. It’s all you can make out, from the little bit of peripheral you have on either side of you, of his figure due to your current angle.

“You good? You comfy? I’m not too heavy for you?” His onslaught of questions came with a joking tone, but you knew that he was genuinely concerned for your well being, wanting you to be comfortable every step of the way.

Jungkook’s weight on your lower back isn’t uncomfortable, but despite your previous feelings, you can’t help how fast your heart starts beating as he relaxes in his position on top of you.

You take a deep breath in and snuggle into his pillow. It smells like Jungkook — fresh, herbal, soothing.

“Very comfy.” Your voice was already coming out in a sleepy tone by how relaxed you felt, but you were wide awake.

“Perfect. I’m ready to get started, if you are?” This was it. Your last chance to bail out if you wanted too. Once again, you steeled your nerves and pressed on. For Jungkook, and for his art, you nod at him, giving him your final answer.

He grabs the bottom of your shirt and begins peeling the material off your back, pushing it up until it rests directly above your shoulders. You shiver slightly as his hand brushes your skin, the contact feels electric, and you wonder if he felt it as well.

“Your body is so amazing.” His low tone doesn’t come off sultry, but moreso it’s one of awe. You dig your head deeper into the pillow, feeling a wave of excitement go throughout your entire body at his blunt, but honest, words. Easing the tension that filled the air, you replied with a nervous laugh.

“You haven’t even begun painting yet!”

“Look, y/n.” His voice was still low, but also soft, and equally as persistent as he continued his heartfelt statement. “I know art when I see it.”

Rolling your eyes at yourself, you decided to humor the male.

“If you think it’s art now, I can’t wait to see it after you work your magic.”

“It’s like you’re giving me a head start.” With that final comment of him admiring your bare back, he begins his work. slowly at first, but then building with intensity. You try to imagine what the painting looks like, but you find your eyes wandering around the room. It feels like you understand Jungkook a little bit more as you take in the details of the space around you.

The room is tidy, but the longer you look, the more you notice. The art on the walls, the plants by the window, the trinkets tucked away on shelves. They were all whispers of Jungkook’s taste and passions. Eclectic, but tranquil. You’re surprised by the neatness, his creative energy seems like it would always leave a mess, but the bedroom feels curated and well kept. While he works, he effortlessly makes conversation with you, one of the only people who makes it easy to initiate a conversation with. His voice is soft, yet low, and you feel safe.

“You should tell me more about yourself. I want to get to know you better.” This has your brows furrowing in confusion. Know you better? Doesn’t he already know you?

“Uh, like what?” You ask, clueless as to what he means.

He ‘hmms’ thoughtfully, before responding.

“What are you looking for in a relationship these days?”

What?

You decide to answer his question truthfully.

“I’m looking for someone I can confide in.” Though you can’t see, he stares at your back in wonderment, inwardly checking off a list he has in his mind that pertains to himself, knowing that you confide in him all the time. It gives him hope, until you utter out your next words, not yet done with your line of thought. “Like a best friend, you know? If you’re not there for each other, nothing else matters.” His face falls, then once again contorts into one of concentration as he focuses on a few strokes of his paintbrush, watching as it glides over your skin. The action somehow feeling more intimate with the deep conversation that accompanied it.

He nodded in agreement, before realizing you couldn’t see him nod, and instead answered verbally for your benefit.

“Yep. I totally understand.”

“I’m just over people who don’t see me as a friend and equal in the relationship.”

His brows furrowed at your words, not knowing you felt that way about relationships. But he agreed wholeheartedly with you.

“I don’t think it would be possible for me to relate to that harder.”

Now this has you staring at the wall ahead of you, lost in your own little world. Is this how he was really feeling with Isla? Was she not treating him right? Confiding in him? Seeing him as an equal? You hoped you were wrong, but the way he said it with such conviction and mirth, you couldn’t help but think it was true. And that alone made your heart drop into your stomach, cause you wanted nothing more than for Jungkook to find someone who treats him as if the sun shines out of his ritually bleached asshole. Not that you judged him for it, accompanying him various times to get the action done yourself.

“What about you, Jungkook?” He didn’t miss the way your voice softened as you asked him the same question he just asked you. “What are you looking for?”

“Well, I’m kind of looking for something pretty serious.” Your lips pursed at that, knowing he got recently engaged, so of course that would be his answer. Plus, he always told you how important it was for him to build both a family and legacy.

“And honestly? I think I’ve found what I’m looking for in yo–,” his eyes widened as he coughed to cover up his mistake of almost slipping up and saying ‘you’, instead of his fiancée’s name. “–in Isla.” He finished with a bitter taste in his mouth, knowing that was far from the truth, but he was already in too deep to change his mind and actually follow his heart. The one that always wanted you.

Jungkook sets down his paintbrush briefly to say this, emphatically separating his words from the task at hand, making you believe it more. His voice, to you, sounding sincere. It causes a deep pit in your stomach to form, as you try your best to cover up your true emotions to wish your best friend well.

“That’s great, Jungkook. I’m glad you found your happiness in Isla. It must be nice knowing you for sure found your happily ever after.” Laced with fake enthusiasm that went unnoticed, Jungkook grimaced, wanting nothing more than to say what he truly felt over the matter, but bit his tongue instead, knowing he can’t. Did this mean though, that you don’t believe you’ve found your own happily ever after in Yoongi? He had to ask. So, he did. Your reply shocked him to his core.

You blame the wine, you blame the intimacy of it all, you blame how safe Jungkook makes you feel, and you, for the first time in your 6 years of knowing him, bare your soul to your best friend.

Letting out a forced laugh, your eyes start to water, once again blaming something other than your feelings for the tears that wanted to shed and cleanse you of your prolonged guilt and affection. You were thankful that he couldn’t really see your face at his current angle, or you his, for what you say so shamelessly.

“Wanna know something funny?” You start out with a light, playful tone. One that makes Jungkook chuckle awkwardly in response to yours. “From the very first day I knew you were going to be someone special in my life. I just didn’t realize until it was too late, that it would filter out into me being ridiculously, madly, in love with you.” You gave out another light, now watery, laugh. One that this time, Jungkook did notice.

His eyes softened on your figure, suddenly becoming much more aware of how intimate this all was for two supposedly ‘best friends’. And now, he instantly regretted inviting you over to do this in his bedroom of all places. It was wrong of him, and deep inside he knew it was wrong, yet he did it anyways. It just made him feel more like shit with your sudden confession of love, one he’s waited all his life to hear fall from your supple lips. He just wished it was under better circumstances, like you both being single and not in your own, separate, relationships. His being one that was serious. Getting married, serious.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He didn’t know what to say, and cautiously, he continued with his brush strokes. For a moment, you hear only paintbrush on skin and the sound of Jungkook’s breathing. Your lips pursed at his silence, and you regretted saying anything, but powered on in hopes of him finishing his work on your back soon. If he still didn’t want to stop after your raw confession, than you wouldn’t let it effect you either.

“With Yoongi, I do feel needed. I feel cared for. I feel heard. I feel safe. I feel loved. But–,” letting out a quiet sigh you continued, reluctantly. “I’m not sure if I see a future with him, yet. I’m just taking it day by day and hoping for the best. You know?” You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. Giving your answer, and deeming it acceptable, Jungkook opted to change topics.

“What about if we went away to relax? Let’s say I whisked you away for a weekend. Where would you want to go?” The sudden change in topic made your body sag into the silk sheets with relief, knowing he was atleast trying to help you ease the tension that hung in the air around you both, thickly.

It was your turn to ‘hmm’ in thought.

“Somewhere you could show me around the art scene.” It was such a simple request, yet held so much weight to Jungkook, his heart soaring at your suggestion.

“You just made my heart explode a little bit.” He chuckled fondly.

“It would be awesome! An insider look at an artsy city? You’d be the best tour guide.” He felt touched by your confidence in him.

“Thanks for trusting my knowledge in art. I think I have pretty good taste.” He boasted a little at the end, making you scoff in amusement.

“You must! I mean, you think I’m art.”

“I think you’re a masterpiece, huge difference.” He stated it so casually, and matter of factly, butterflies began to make a home in your once pit of a stomach.

Now bent over, holding himself over you with one hand, as he focuses on the little details of his artwork on your back, his breath is hot on your ears as he speaks. It sends a chill down your spine. He’s obviously deep in the flow of his work, you can feel the paintbrush moving in passionate strokes, leaving cool paint across your back. Your conversation may now be innocent, but the combination of the paintbrush that’s now on the small of your back, Jungkook’s hushed voice, and your position in bed, has you feeling tingly all over.

His next question breaks you out of your not so innocent thoughts.

“What if we could go anywhere in the world?”

“Somewhere with a lot of history.” You instantly reply, not needing to even think of your answer. “Like, give me something straight up ancient.” You emphasized the last word with excitement.

“How come?” Not the answer he was expecting, but he was genuinely curious.

“Historical sites inspire me so much. I think it’s so cool that some places hold centuries or millennia of history, and countless people’s stories. More than you and I could ever know.” Your genuine passion and excitement shine through in your words, making him grin fondly at you. You were unique, you were different. He loved it.

“That makes a lot of sense. I love the way you think.”

“What about you? Where do you get inspiration from?” You’re inwardly shocked you never quite directly asked him this question over the years, but it’s better late than never, right?

“Well, nature is a big one…,” he trailed off, wondering if he should finish the natural occurring thought that crossed his mind when you asked your question. He came to the conclusion that you would never judge him, so he said it. “You know, there’s nothing like being nude outdoors, the sun on your skin. Being able to blend in with the flowers and forget about everything. Some of the best camouflage paints are done in nature.” His voice gradually got louder, the more passionate he became with his answer, it was nice to hear.

“Oh wow, I’d love to see that.” You spoke honestly and in earnest. The whole scenario he described sounded so freeing. Something you haven’t felt yourself in a long time.

“Maybe we should explore it together sometime.” He casually suggested, not meaning it in a sexual way at all, you’re sure. But you couldn’t help but prod into his suggestion to gain more info.

“You mean like…get naked outside? I love the way you’re always testing the limits. I hope you can teach me a thing or two.” You truthfully always admired that about him, the way he always thought outside of the box, unlike most artists who chose a more ‘safe’ approach with their art. You always wanted to see things through his eyes, wondering what the world looked like to him. And you always incorporated whatever he so graciously taught you in your own line of work with modeling. Conveying emotions, letting new poses come naturally to you through your body expression, choosing what you wore on the rare occasions that they let you pick your own outfit.

“Give me some time, and I promise I can bring that side out in you, y/n. Cause I know it’s in you, it’s in all of us, if only we look hard enough.” He vowed to you so solemnly, you swooned with a lovesick smile he couldn’t see.

As his words hang in the air, Jungkook finishes his painting test. The final strokes of the paintbrush leave you both breathless, and when you look at the final design in the body length mirror he supplies for you, you see a beautiful pattern weaving green stripes across your back and flowers sprouting from your spine.

It looks fucking amazing. You expected nothing less when it came to Jungkook and his skilled hands. You now felt honored at being his canvas for the day.

You and Jungkook admire his work in the mirror, and after a few moments your eyes come to meet in the reflection. You hold his gaze, the tension between you growing with each erratic beat of your heart.

You want to say something, you want to make a move. Damn the consequences of your actions, if it meant finally succumbing to your feelings and desires you held pent up for so long. But, as fate would have it, before you could muster up the courage, an alarm on Jungkook’s phone cuts through the silence. Jungkook groans in frustration and hurries to shut it off.

“I can’t believe I forgot to disable this before you came over.” He grumbled to himself, both upset and grateful for the interruption. Who knows what might’ve transpired between you two otherwise. Something he’ll think about tonight as he lays his head down on his pillow in an attempt to sleep, which reminds him why he set the alarm in the first place. “Oh, this means it’s late. I spent way longer on that than I originally planned. I just got caught up in the process, I guess.” He chuckled sheepishly, scratching at his neck.

“You had me very close to becoming a very unruly model.” You narrowed your eyes at him playfully through the mirror, watching as he grabbed a washcloth that was close by, soaking in a bucket of warm, soapy, water on the floor. Rather than bending over the entire time to clean your back from the paint, he decided it was better for his back to kneel down behind you, his height still making it possible to reach your entire back.

Taking a picture of your back with his phone first, he gently started the new process of wiping his artwork off your back, scoffing at your insinuation, but playing off of it himself.

“In what way?” Jungkook flashes you a brilliant smile in the mirror as he tries to tease you into saying something more.

“I just imagine it would be difficult to paint if your hands were…otherwise occupied.” You tried to keep your usual, confident, flirty, exterior, but your voice failed you and cracked at the end. If Jungkook noticed, he didn’t say anything, and for that, you’re grateful.

“You’d be surprised what I can accomplish with just some paint and my fingertips.” His coy grin is intoxicating. Despite your best attempts to keep you’re cool, his own insinuation had your cheeks flushing. Your mind now racing to conjure a mental image of him finger painting across your skin, and not Isla’s, whom you’re positive has had your mental fantasy happen on her in real life, more than once.

With one final stroke of the washcloth, your back is now bare once again. You dropped your shirt as it flared around your exposed back before efficiently covering it from the mirror and Jungkook’s eyes.

“As amazing as this has been, we have to call it a night, I’m sorry. I have to get up early tomorrow to meet some models for another project.” He sounds authentically disappointed with your night ending, and if you’re honest with yourself, so are you. It started off rough, and heavy, but ultimately was super relaxing and informative. Finding out new things about Jungkook over the six years of knowing him already, felt good.

He got dressed back up in his tank top and jeans and escorted you back down the hall into the main lobby. Double checking to make sure you had everything, you paused in front of the front door and looked at Jungkook. He’s busy typing something into his phone, texting Isla, you could only assume. Taking the chance of him being distracted momentarily, you lean in to give him the usual kiss on the cheek goodbye.

Apparently you underestimated exactly how into his phone he was. As soon as you got a hair width away from his cheek, did his attention abruptly switch to you. Him angling his face at just the right time to effectively, and unintentionally, capture your lips with his own. Both of your eyes widen as you both pull away from each other in a haste. Mouths open, eyes still wide, you just stare at each other like a deer caught in headlights, not really knowing how to bypass was just happened.

It was his eyes that shifted first, staring into your own with an intensity that had your forehead lining with a light glaze of sweat. Your heart started beating erratically at the insane thought that he might have just actually liked kissing you as much as you liked kissing him.

He must’ve saw something he took as a green light as he searched your eyes, cause the next thing you knew, his lips were clashing against yours once more. In your heart, you knew it was so, so wrong. And truly, you wanted to stop it. But it’s like your brain short circuited, and your body had a mind of its own, as you kissed him back with just as much passion as he was giving you. It’s like everything you both have been holding back all night — no, for years, erupted into this long, heated, spine tingling, toe curling, passionate kiss.

With his hand secured behind your head, he let his phone drop to the floor without a care to pull you closer to him with his other hand now on the small of your back. The kiss held just as much intensity as his gaze did, as he leans his whole body into it, into you. Your hands find purpose on the nape of his neck, your own way of bringing him impossibly closer to you, your own belongings left in a disregarded heap on the floor at your feet. You don’t even notice when your phone incessantly buzzes at you that you’re getting a call from your boyfriend, just like Jungkook fails to see that his fiancée has just texted him back.

Your hands move to caress his back, as if to hold onto this moment for dear life. The one you’ve been waiting for all your life, since the moment you met Jungkook.

When he taps your ass with his hands, giving you a silent signal to jump without breaking the kiss, you do. He grabs underneath your ass effortlessly, his strong arms catching the weight of your body with ease. Your legs straddle his waist, as your arms find new home around his shoulders, your heels digging into his ass to bring him closer.

He grunts into your mouth as he expertly finds his way back to his bedroom, still holding you, somehow finding ways to maneuver you both safely, his eyes staying open during the heated make out session. Yours stayed shut, relishing in the moment.

Even when your back hits the cool, silk sheets, and he hovers over your eventual naked form with a look of pure, unadulterated love and lust, do you still not believe it’s happening. Not even when you feel the delicious snap of his hips against yours and you’re moaning breathlessly into each other’s mouths. Not when he pulls the first orgasm of the night out of you, and watches you come undone with something akin to pride on his face for being the one to garner that sinful and beautiful reaction out of you. Not when you switch positions with him and ride him to one of the most intense orgasms of his life, your name spilling from his lips in a mantra as you witness and feel your own sense of pride of being the cause of his undoing. Not when he flips you both over to give you both one last mind blowing orgasm, as you come undone in sync. Not even when you’re both panting, covered in sweat, and your snuggly pressed into his side with your arm and leg draped over him in a possessive manner. Not when he’s rubbing soothing circles into your arm and whispering promises of his love and the future he knows you’ll both have as you fall asleep to his voice like a lullaby.

And definitely not when you wake up the next morning, cold and alone, the remnants of your lovemaking still embedded in the silk sheets around you. A lone note left on the pillow next to your head, a hasty scribble that you discern is Jungkook’s guilty conscience coming to haunt him.

The words ‘I’m sorry’ mocking you, as your tears cascade down your face, the only sound being the rhythmic pattern of your tear drops as they hit the note that makes you cry out in anger and rip it to shreds, scattering the pieces on the bed around you like confetti. And you know, you just know, that once again, he chose her over you.

The only thing you do believe is that things with Jungkook will never be the same again.

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