#How do I make a free makeup portfolio?

[makeuparistcoursetips]

How do I make a free makeup portfolio?

Creating a free Makeup Academy in Chandigarh portfolio can be done online without the need for significant financial investment. Here are steps to help you make a free makeup portfolio:

Choose a Free Website Builder

Many website builders offer free plans that allow you to create and host your portfolio. Popular options include Wix, Weebly, WordPress.com, Blogger, and Behance. Choose one that suits your needs and is user-friendly.

Sign Up for an Account

Register for an account on your chosen website builder platform if you don't already have one. Follow the platform's instructions to create your account.

Select a Template

Browse the available templates and choose one that aligns with your style and showcases your makeup work effectively. Most website builders offer a variety of templates, and you can often customize them to your liking.

Customize Your Portfolio

Use the template as a starting point and customize it to create your makeup portfolio. Add your logo, change colors to match your brand, and personalize the layout. Typically, these website builders offer drag-and-drop editors, making it easy to add and arrange content.

Upload High-Quality Photos

Gather high-quality photos of your makeup looks. Ensure that the images are well-lit, clear, and showcase your skills. Organize them into different categories or sections, such as "Bridal," "Editorial," or "Special Effects."

Write Descriptions and Captions

For each makeup look or category, write captions or descriptions that provide context and details about the makeup application, products used, and any unique aspects of the look.

Create a Contact Page

Include a contact page with your email address or a contact form for potential clients to reach out to you. Make it easy for visitors to inquire about your services.

Consider a Blog Section

If you enjoy writing about makeup, consider adding a blog section to your portfolio where you can share makeup tips, tutorials, and insights. This can help engage your audience and showcase your expertise.

[islerouxsims]

DIZZY ISY SAVE FILE VERSION 8

Hello Dizzy Isy fans! I'm absolutely thrilled to announce the release of Version 8!

The save file is now updated for the FOR RENT pack and Tomarang.

I hope you find a lot of joy in this new version of the save!

♥ What do you get? ♥

VERSION 1 OF DIZZY ISY (STILL AVAILABLE HERE)

VERSION 2 OF DIZZY ISY (STILL AVAILABLE HERE)

VERSION 3 OF DIZZY ISY (STILL AVAILABLE HERE)

VERSION 4 OF DIZZY ISY (STILL AVAILABLE HERE)

VERSION 5 OF DIZZY ISY (STILL AVAILABLE HERE)

VERSION 6 OF DIZZY ISY (STILL AVAILABLE HERE)

VERSION 7 OF DIZZY ISY (STILL AVAILABLE HERE)

…PLUS…

220 custom clubs and icons (+11 than v.7) with points/rivalries and custom activities.

Lots of details of custom books to find, interesting tombstones, photos with past histories and mysteries etc.

♥ When you enter the save♥

There are 4 empty lots.

There are 20 empty houses (13 starters, 6 under 100k, 1 under 120k). (I have now labelled the starters so it is clearer.)

There are 18 rentals in holiday destinations.

3 new rentals in Tomarang with fleshed out family landlords.

There are now 3 free apartments.

Secret lots in Mt. Komerebi renovated.

Selvadorada and Strangerville adventure/mystery unplayed.

Conservation efforts not completed in Sulani.

Evergreen Harbor has many community project opportunities.

Neighbourhood Stories disactivated.

Voting and Eco Footprints also disactivated.

___________________________________________________________

It is a busy save file with many lots filled to stop random spawning of townies but the empty lots will soon quickly fill up with townie families if you don’t use them. The townies are clearly marked in the unplayed tab with the #townies so you know who is meant to have a lot and who isn’t.

___________________________________________________________

♥ What do you need? ♥

❥  ALL THE PACKS apart from Journey to Batuu

❥  Kits used: Fashion Street kit, Incheon Arrivals kit, Desert Luxe and Carnival Streetwear kit

-You can still download this save file without all these packs or kits but some items might be replaced by substitutes, and we all know how those pan out.

❥ 186 MB of free space for this save file.

❥  Zerbu’s More Club Icons Mod (PLEASE DOWNLOAD FIRST!)

(If unavailable to you please download from here)

❥  Rex’s Custom Club Activities Mod (PLEASE ALSO DOWNLOAD BEFORE THE SAVE!)

♥ Recommendations ♥

❥ MC Command Center by Deaderpool.  

❥ No Random Townies by Zero.    

❥ No Random Hats Acessories and Makeup by Bienchens.    

(Anything by Bienshens is amazing and safe to use in my opinion)

♥ How to install? ♥

Make a backup of your Electronic Arts/The Sims 4/Saves folder

Download the file, unzip, and place files in Electronic Arts/The Sims4/Saves.

Open your game, enter the save. It is named “Dizzy Isy Save File By Isleroux and you should see the Koh Saphas as the last played household.

"The Koh Saphas are heirs to the Sungai Point estate but face a whirlwind of challenges. Kasarinlan manages their property portfolio, while chef Kahilom embarks on managing a restaurant plagued by terrible reviews after a tragic incident involving artist Indigo Ivyloop. With twin girls on the horizon, Indigo's ashes in their posession and the daunting task of salvaging Kahilom's culinary reputation. Will their ambition prove their downfall, or can they turn the tide and savour success?"

___________________________________________________________

DOWNLOAD (SFS) or 

DOWNLOAD (MediaFire)

(REMEMBER TO DOWNLOAD THE CUSTOM CLUB MODS FIRST!!)

**Lastly, if you find joy in the save file and wish to support me, perhaps you could consider buying me a coffee ☕ to help make future updates possible.

It's worth mentioning that despite the immense effort poured into Dizzy Isy over four years, I've chosen not to restrict access to my save files behind any paywall.

To those of you who have already extended your support, your kindness truly means the world to me. I want you to know that I see you, I appreciate you, and I'm grateful for your unwavering dedication, especially to those who have read this far down.**

Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Happy simming!  ~isy~ ツ  

@maxismatchccworld

[monakisu]

rating oil paintings i did in high school based on their likability (to Me) ⊙▂⊙

light study 💡 - the earliest one out of all of these bcuz i technically painted it in middle school but then went back in HS to add the seagulls and boat so i could fit it into the theme of my AP art portfolio LMAOOO but still one of my favorites, which is sorta sad cuz it’s so old… 9/10

filial love - honestly didn’t care for this one very much because it was meant to just be more fodder for my AP portfolio but turns out my mom likes it a lot!! she says it reminds her of “the lion of judah ✝️” (whoever that is) so i was happy to give it to her! she displays it in her room so her fondness really carries this one’s rating: 10/10

play nice with your brother!! 🐻‍❄️ - i like this one a lot! because it’s one of the only paintings my hardass art teacher let me use neon colors on (or at least as neon as u can get with oil paint). usually he just paints over my colors to make them grayer. that guy… otherwise this one is just not very interesting. 8/10

koi pond 🎏 - PRIME EXAMPLE OF WHAT I MEAN when he paints over my stuff with gray!!! i was so excited to paint this one and added all sorts of flair that i like—pink dots as leaf highlights, super detailed colorful water—AND THEN HE JUST WENT AND SMEARED ALL MY DETAILS 💀💀💀 so i Hate this one and avoid looking at it as much as possible. 0/10 below it is a version from a diff angle that i did in an hour with shitty free acrylic verrryyy recently in college, and u can just see how i went ham on the colors right?! eugh. what could’ve been… 🪦

with heavy heart ❤️ - a pretty big old lady (18x24”). i feel obligated to like her because she won me the congressional competition for my district so i got to go to the capitol to see her framed there and briefly meet my stale white bread representative but HONESTLY all i can think about is how hideous my makeup was at the time and i get upset. 🙁 i do think this granny is very pretty though!! 7/10

my ocean blue 🪼 - this one im not sure if i like it or only tolerate it. i just wanted to paint a super colorful coral reef!! "🐠🪸🫧" you know?? but my mom and teacher said it Needed a message for ~intrigue~ so they brainstormed together (without me) and made me add this random ass child with a VR headset smack dab in the middle… something about cyberreality? IDK i just want her ass gone so badly. i also never got around to finishing the stripes on that fish in the front but nobody calls me out on it so it's whatever 🤷‍♂️ LOL 4/10

radial self portrait 🎯 - HUGE DEVIATION IN STYLE not only bcuz this one’s gouache instead of oil but also because i got to paint without an old man (art teacher) hovering over my shoulder!!! 😸 it was my first time painting something super stylized and i realized that painting can actually be Not Agonizing!!! 😸😸 this was at my summer camp where we had to come up with a radial pattern using a compass (i hate that little pointy shit) and then combine it with our self portrait. it’s me having a headache! i painted this in a single stressful sleepless night because i have HORRIFIC time management when i’m left alone so it’s pretty sloppy. also at the time i had those blonde e-girl bangs hahaha… i still like this one a lot!! i was just SO happy i didn't have to go photorealistic AND i could use my favorite colors (mainly hot pink)!!! 10/10 😸

overall my high school painting in experience was spent beefing with my art teacher and inhaling paint fumes. sort of miserable honestly -_-

[teensidehustles]

The Ultimate Guide to Starting Your Own Side Hustle as a Teen

In today’s digital age, starting a side hustle as a teen is more achievable than ever. Whether you’re looking to make extra money, save for a goal, or develop new skills, a side hustle can set you up for future success while giving you a taste of entrepreneurship. Here’s everything you need to know about starting your own side hustle as a teen, including ideas, tips, and how to get started.

1. Why Start a Side Hustle?

Financial Independence: Earn money to cover personal expenses, save for college, or fund hobbies.

Skill Development: Learn time management, communication, and business skills that will benefit you in the long term.

Experience for Future Jobs: Building a portfolio or gaining hands-on experience can make you stand out when applying for jobs or internships.

2. Best Side Hustle Ideas for Teens

Not all side hustles require significant experience or upfront costs. Here are some beginner-friendly ideas you can start today:

A. Freelancing (Graphic Design, Writing, or Social Media)

If you have skills in areas like graphic design, writing, video editing, or managing social media, you can offer your services as a freelancer. Start small by working with local businesses or individuals, and gradually expand to online platforms like Upwork, Freelancer, or Instagram.

Example: Create logos for small businesses, manage someone’s Instagram page, or write blog posts for websites.

Tools to start: Canva (design), Photopea (graphic design), CapCut (video editing).

B. Sell Your Creations (Art, Clothing, Jewelry)

If you’re creative, selling handmade goods or custom products online can be a fun way to make money. You can sell art, hand-painted clothing, jewelry, or custom crafts through platforms like Etsy or Instagram.

Example: Start a custom T-shirt printing business, design jewelry, or sell artwork.

Tools to start: Instagram (to promote), Etsy (to sell), Printify (for T-shirt designs).

C. Offer Tutoring or Homework Help

Are you strong in subjects like math, English, or science? You can offer tutoring services to peers or younger students. Parents are often willing to pay for quality tutoring, and you can do this in person or online through video calls.

Example: Offer math tutoring sessions for middle school students, or help with essay writing.

Tools to start: Zoom or Google Meet for virtual tutoring sessions, Canva for making promotional materials.

D. Start a YouTube or TikTok Channel

Teens today are taking over platforms like YouTube and TikTok, creating content that’s entertaining, informative, or creative. You can make videos on topics you’re passionate about—gaming, tech reviews, beauty, fitness, or vlogging your daily life.

Example: Review new gadgets, share makeup tutorials, or create workout challenges.

Tools to start: CapCut or InShot for editing videos, TikTok, or YouTube for content.

E. Offer Social Media Management Services

Small businesses often struggle to keep up with their social media presence, so offering to manage their accounts can be a lucrative option. You can create content, respond to followers, and grow their online presence.

Example: Manage Instagram pages for local coffee shops or online stores.

Tools to start: Canva for content creation, Hootsuite for scheduling posts, Instagram and Facebook for social media management.

3. Steps to Start Your Side Hustle

Here’s a step-by-step guide on how to kickstart your side hustle:

Step 1: Identify Your Skills and Interests

Choose a side hustle that aligns with your passions or talents. Ask yourself: What do I enjoy doing in my free time? What skills do I already have?

Step 2: Do Some Research

Before starting, research the market to see if there’s demand for your service or product. Check out your competitors, study their pricing, and read reviews to understand what customers are looking for.

Step 3: Set Up Your Online Presence

Even if you’re working locally, having an online presence is crucial to grow your side hustle. Create an Instagram or Facebook page, or build a simple website using platforms like Wix or WordPress to showcase your services or products.

Step 4: Create a Portfolio

For freelancing or creative side hustles, having a portfolio helps potential clients see the quality of your work. You can use Instagram, Medium, or Behance to show off your designs, writings, or past projects.

Step 5: Start Small and Test

Begin with small projects to test the waters. This will help you refine your service, understand client needs, and grow your confidence before taking on bigger jobs.

Step 6: Promote Your Hustle

Use social media to promote your side hustle. Ask friends and family to share your posts. Offering referral discounts or freebies can also help you grow your client base.

4. Challenges You May Face

Starting a side hustle isn’t always easy, especially as a teen. Here are some common challenges and how to overcome them:

Time Management: Juggling school, activities, and your side hustle can be tough. Create a schedule and set aside specific hours for your business to avoid burnout.

Legal Restrictions: Depending on your country or state, there may be age-related restrictions on earning money. Make sure to follow any legal guidelines for minors.

Gaining Trust: As a young entrepreneur, some clients may underestimate you. Building a strong portfolio and maintaining professionalism will help you earn credibility.

5. Final Tips for Success

Stay Consistent: Whether you’re building an audience or trying to grow a client base, consistency is key. Don’t give up too quickly if things start slow.

Keep Learning: Invest time in learning new skills through YouTube tutorials, online courses, or Skillshare to enhance your abilities.

Have Fun: A side hustle should be something you enjoy, not something that adds stress to your life. Focus on growing it while keeping balance with school and your personal life.

Conclusion

Starting a side hustle as a teen is not only possible, but it’s also a great way to gain real-world experience, develop new skills, and achieve financial independence. With the right idea, a bit of effort, and some consistency, you can turn your passions into profit. So pick an idea, get started, and watch your side hustle grow!

[woo-shy]

One thing I want to do but can't fully commit to ay ang pagdedeclutter ng gamit every once in a while. Naalala ko lang bigla kase nag-rewatch ako recently ng gilmore girls tapos nabanggit si marie kondo and how she declutters—asking herself if that certain thing still sparks joy tapos if it does not, aalisin na.

Wala narealize ko lang rin na sobrang hoarder ko talaga. As much as I like giving out stuff to other people, there are so many things that I can't really let go of kahit di ko naman na talaga nagagamit at magagamit. Some things does not spark joy anymore but the absence of it makes me feel incomplete.

Gusto ko na kasi talagang pakawalan yung iba kong makeup since di ko naman na nagagamit atsaka wala na akong amor sa pagme-makeup pero nagdadalawang-isip rin ako kase feeling ko I am not me without my love for makeup. Dati, everytime na magbebreakdown ako, makeup agad tatakbuhan ko. Everytime na may free time ako, magpapractice ako na magmakeup kase gusto kong gumawa ng portfolio in hopes that I'll be able to be a professional makeup artist in the future. Tas this year, I barely touched any of them and I guess that made me feel indifferent.

Feeling ko ang oa ko kase eto pa talaga ang nagtrigger ng existential crisis ko pero minsan kase kapag naiisip ko na change is the only constant thing in life, nagsspiral ako talaga. Narerethink ko ang life choices ko kase what if nga naman yung tinatahak kong landas ngayon eh hindi na magsspark ng joy in the future? What if ngayon lang ako at peace sa ginagawa ko? What if wala talagang dumating na better opportunity for me? Nakakadiscourage lang rin siguro kasi ever since naman wala talaga akong concrete plans sa mga gusto kong gawin in the future. Feeling ko ngayon pa lang ako nageexplore ng mga landas na pwede kong tahakin in my field, tapos naooverwhelm ako kase feeling ko ang bagal ng pacing ko sa buhay. Alam ko naman na life is not a race pero ang hirap kase nun iabsorb kapag hindi ka rin naman ganun ka-privileged. Di naman ako pwedeng magtrial and error nang magtrial and error sa mga gusto kong gawin sa buhay kase wala naman akong fallback. Parang di pwedeng huminto kase di ako pwedeng umalis sa isang bagay dahil lang hindi na ako masaya.

Di ko alam ang point ko kase gulong-gulo rin talaga ako right now. Dami ko lang talaga iniisip siguro. Ang bottomline siguro nito ay mas okay siguro ako sa buhay kung may pera ako at kaya kong bumili ng bagong makeup kapag gusto ko na ulit.

[6-of-november]

Object number two of move-in worries, money. The reason for most failed relationships, in particular highschool sweethearts, & man do we have different spending & cleaning habits. When I made diddly I would save every penny, odd jobs, only using free entertainment, pawning anything worth more in money than sentiment to me. When I set a plan in motion however, I will spend every spare penny (down to the safety margin, not past) & then stop. As an adult, I'm too busy for games & I have no greater desire than to get off work, have a cocktail or two, & get back to work on one of my many projects. I'm such a spend thrift that unless my project is going to make money my expenditures amount to monthly: $80 gas for non-work reasons, 140$ taking gf out to eat, 80$ mid/top shelf liquors/liqueurs, & 0-100$ on materials or tools & frankly, if I wasn't driving hours every week to see my GF & hours more to take her everywhere (she still doesn't really drive herself ( it's less than once a month)) I'd have even fewer bills.

While she does at least save,she's a whirlwind of expenses, regular door dash & pizza delivery, jewelry, makeup, skin care (& I don't mean regular maintenance, I mean disposable fad stuff & impulse buys), cute things, & impulse buys that while she does make 25% more than me on average, can amount to 1-4 weeks worth of my pay.

We talked about joint accounts when we were younger, but when we were younger we assumed one of us would breadmake & the other homemake (however was more profitable), but here it's 2024 & it'll take 50% of our combined income to make rent anywhere that doesn't have flood damage or roaches. While I think she could pull her habits in check to keep up her end of rent, I'm studiously monitoring the stock market to maintain a constant growth portfolio to supplement my wages, I'd damn near have a panic attack if I was this aggressively saving/earning & she was just chaotically spending out of the same account(s). Rn, I lean towards us opening a joint account where we pool a planned amount monthly for rent & expenses but we otherwise keep our finances separate for now.

What I think baffles me most about her spending is how it clashes with her cleaning. 50$ a month on dubious "fun" face masks & under eye patches but she neglects using her prescription acne wash or even bathing for 5-7 days more often than not, same for teeth brushing. She'll throw money at something pretty to look at, but won't clean her toilet, which, until my recent involvement, was the foulest I have encountered in the United States, only slightly winning out over the one that exploded sewage in Cambodia. I know her diagnosis, I know to give her grace, but it feels like her patterns aren't improving & they're ever more costly & I'm afraid trying to help her &/or reign in the budget or just preliminary talking about budgeting will cause this to be a huge blow up.

[weddingbyte0]

Elevate Your Special Day with an Engagement Makeup Artist in Delhi

Your engagement day marks the beginning of a beautiful journey, and every moment deserves to be cherished. To ensure you look and feel your absolute best, consider enlisting the expertise of an engagement makeup artist in Delhi. With a plethora of talented professionals in the city, you can transform into the radiant, confident version of yourself on this special occasion.

Why Hire an Engagement Makeup Artist?

Expertise and Skill: Engagement makeup is an art that requires precision, creativity, and a deep understanding of different skin tones and types. A professional engagement makeup artist possesses the skill and knowledge to accentuate your features, creating a flawless look that enhances your natural beauty. Their expertise ensures that your makeup lasts throughout the day and looks stunning in photographs.

Personalized Approach: Every individual is unique, and so should be your engagement makeup. A skilled makeup artist will take the time to understand your style, preferences, and the theme of your engagement. Whether you prefer a classic, traditional look or a more contemporary style, they will tailor the makeup to suit your personality and the overall vibe of the event.

Quality Products: Engagement makeup artists in Delhi use high-quality, professional-grade products that not only provide a seamless finish but are also gentle on the skin. These products are designed to withstand various environmental factors, ensuring that your makeup remains intact and vibrant throughout the celebration.

Time Efficiency: Engagement days are often packed with activities, leaving little room for touch-ups or adjustments. Hiring a makeup artist allows you to sit back, relax, and enjoy the pampering experience, knowing that you are in capable hands. Their efficiency ensures that you are ready on time, leaving you stress-free to embrace every moment of your special day.

Photography Enhancement: Professional engagement makeup is not just about looking great in person but also about translating well in photographs. An experienced makeup artist understands how makeup translates through the lens, ensuring that you look stunning in both professional and candid shots.

How to Choose the Right Engagement Makeup Artist:

Research: Begin by researching makeup artists in Delhi. Look at their portfolios, reviews, and testimonials to gauge their style and the satisfaction of their clients.

Trial Session: Schedule a trial session with the shortlisted artists. This gives you the opportunity to discuss your preferences, experience their work firsthand, and make any necessary adjustments before the big day.

Budget Consideration: While quality should be a priority, it's essential to consider your budget. Many talented makeup artists in Delhi offer packages that cater to different financial plans.

Availability: Ensure that the makeup artist you choose is available on your engagement date. Early bookings are advisable to secure their services for your special day.

Conclusion:

Your engagement day is a celebration of love and commitment, and looking your best is a vital part of the experience. Hiring an engagement makeup artist in Delhi ensures that you radiate confidence and beauty on this significant occasion. With their expertise, personalized approach, and quality products, you can confidently say "I do" to a flawless look that will be remembered for years to come.

Read more :

Bridal makeup artist Mumbai, Bridal makeup artist Pune, Bridal makeup artist Hyderabad, Bridal makeup artist Bangalore, Engagement makeup artist Delhi, Engagement makeup artist Mumbai, Engagement makeup artist Pune, Engagement makeup artist Hyderabad, Engagement makeup artist Bangalore, Party makeup artist Delhi, Party makeup artist Pune

[copperbadge]

How did you get started with investing? I've seen you talk about it before and I know that's something I need to do, but I feel so lost in terms of which companies to invest in and how much money I should put in. I have retirement accounts but nothing outside of that. And really, I feel like I can't talk to anyone IRL about this because I'm too embarrassed - I'm literally a CPA and do corporate taxes for a living but still find investing to be so intimidating 😞.

I mean, when people say "you should be investing" often, until you reach a certain wealth level, they are actually referring to your 401K. This is more general advice for the readers, but don't feel bad if you're not investing outside of retirement, especially if you're early in your career or if you're in a job where you don't have much disposable income. Don't feel bad in general, honestly, even if you haven't got a retirement fund at all; life is hard and money is necessary but stupid.

I only really started to invest invest in the last two years and even then I'm pretty conservative about it. On the plus, as a CPA, you will probably have a leg up in terms of knowing a lot of financial terms and kind of...understanding how money works in at least some sense.

I actually got started studying investing with my retirement fund. I was young and broke and mad that a chunk of my paycheck was going into my 401K when I could use that money NOW (see Sam Vimes Boots Theory for more on why ready cash now can often beat more cash later). I didn't know much about finance but I knew that a) I was basically being forced to play the financial markets with that money and b) the fate of our country's economy is tied to the stock market which is a mood ring hooked up to a roulette wheel. Being the Oldest Living Millennial I also understood I might not actually ever get to retire, so I decided to treat my retirement fund like Monopoly money: real but meaningless. And so I thought, well, let's Learn About Investing with it.

When you invest with a 401K or IRA usually you're not buying straight stocks; you're buying some conglomeration of investments bundled together as a fund (this is not a technical term, fund has a specific meaning in the technical sense, but it's easier to just use fund as a shorthand so I'm gonna). These can include stocks, bonds, mutual funds, and other more esoteric vehicles. So I started looking into the funds available to me -- there's the "retire in this year" fund that most people just dump all their money into, but there were also ways to invest in small businesses abroad, in health care or in funds that are "socially responsible", ways to buy into funds that did nothing but attempt to keep up with inflation, and on and on.

I didn't know any of that, of course -- I just saw something like "International Explorer Fund" and decided it sounded interesting and I'd learn what it was and what it did, and when I was satisfied that the reward was worth the risk, I'd dump some cash from my 2045-Retirement investment into it. While "past performance is no indication of future success" past performance isn't a bad way to at least pick something to research, and usually there's an earnings graph on the fund's prospectus page. I'd start reading prospectuses and looking up every word I didn't know or felt had a specific context I was missing (mostly on Investopedia, a GREAT resource). I'd take the term, add it to a vocabulary list, and rewrite "what is this and what does it do" in my own words. Eventually I internalized a lot of the terminology but I still check my notes once in a while.

There are financial literacy courses you can take, of course, and I don't think you should be AT ALL ashamed about trying to find a good one (lots of scams out there) or asking colleagues about them. "Hey, I'm not comfortable with my level of literacy about investment vehicles; do you know of any good educational material or class that would fill in the gaps?" is a good way to go about it. Very few people know jack shit about investing and my level of knowledge is just BARELY above jack shit, to be honest, so no shame, my friend. It is also totally fine to find a financial planner or investment advisor outside of your work and have a sit-down with them to get advice, which is what my parents do. Many banks offer that kind of service, so check with wherever you do your banking, and almost any retirement fund administrator (like Vanguard or American Funds) will be happy to send someone to meet with you and advise you. I was never prouder of my financial self-education than the one time I met with a guy from Vanguard who said, "Basically, keep doing what you're doing, this is a model portfolio."

Once I was investing in my retirement funds more confidently, I got the RobinHood app and started studying stocks, which is really just like, "find a stock and do a book report on it". Look at past earnings, who the CEO of the company is, what their board makeup is like, what they're doing in the news. And of course the most important advice: Never, ever invest money in the stock market that you aren't prepared to lose.

Aside from my stock adventures on RobinHood, which is about five hundred dollars that I turned into a thousand dollars over a couple of years, I have money in a few savings accounts. I don't have CDs or money market accounts or any of that, because I still don't have quite enough cash to make it worth it. I just parked some in a credit union that pays 6% interest on the first $1K you put in, and the rest in Betterment, which had a 2% interest rate when I started but now is down to .3% which is a bummer. But I haven't found another vehicle like Betterment which allows you equally easy access to your money while having as intuitive and modular an online interface.

So overall, aside from retirement (which is at $116K, which seems impressive until you remember you're supposed to retire with 25x your yearly salary in your 401K) I have a grand in the stock market, a grand in a 6%-interest savings account with a credit union, a grand in an emergency-only savings account attached to my checking, and roughly five grand with Betterment. It's a fairly conservative setup but I'd like never to be poor ever again, so I'm hedging carefully :D

Some great resources that I've used include:

Investopedia

Planet Money podcast by NPR and its sister podcast, The Indicator

The Financial page of the newspaper (I used to read NYT, now I read Tribune)

Rankandfiled.com, a free stock filings resource site that basically scrapes the SEC for financial data -- this is for if you really want to do a deep dive once you've got more experience

Good luck! It's a slog at first, but eventually it gets kinda fun :)

[frodispatch]

Outside, For Just A Moment (2022, digital)

"Katya, Katya Goncharov."

"Gonacharov? That’s a big name around here. A big name, if you mind me saying, in the wrong places."

"Your makeup is smudged Katya. No, please, let me get it."

Am I putting more effort into fan art for a film that came out in 1973 than I am for my actual portfolio pieces? Yes. Am I proud if it? Yes, because I love this movie, and I’m so happy that it’s built quite a fandom recently. It seems like no one knows it exists and yet, Tumblr finds a way to create fandom.

But like… The way Sophia touches her face in this scene. Katya's makeup is always so cakey, making her face almost powdery. She’s so malleable, so dusted over. You could almost wipe her face away. After she takes the pills, if you notice, she almost starts to glisten. It’s sweat from tension, yes, but you know she's freeing herself in a way. So much was in her mind, and then Goncharov's blood sticks like makeup once again. It’s too cakey. It shows that the "makeup" was his influence all along, and yet, in this earlier market scene Sofia can wipe it away. Really only noticeable on a rewatch because you know that soon the smudged lipstick will be blood. I’ve watched this movie so many times now but it always gives me chills.

The colors in the marketplace in this scene contrasted the boat scene so well. I love the little hints of green that come out through the oranges and reds. Also, the lighting on Katya's face matches when she looks in the mirror before she takes the pills. Such well done drama.

It’s kind of scary how much I’ve fallen in love with Katya's character. I seem to love unreliable narrators haha. It’s too bad we don’t see enough of her and Andrey's interactions. Those few scenes we have are some of my favorites in the whole film. Goncharov truly has both of them caught but in different ways. I don’t do a lot of digital art so this looked like a potato half of the process and I did not want to make the hair look decent, which is why I'm not posting the full face, but I actually really like how it turned out. I love seeing this film have a resurgence on here. the art I’ve seen is absolutely incredible. In the words of Katya herself: “use the time as you have it, for you never know when the clock might just… stop" you all have been using it well. Keep making magic through your works.

[amerrierworld]

Kiss Her For Me (pt 3)

for anon: Kiss Her For Me pt 3?

Summary: Charlie appears at one of Therese’s gallery showings and Carol insists she pose for the photographer’s portfolio. 

Characters: Carol x Therese x OC

Word Count: 2,801

Warnings: SMUT F/F/F threesome :)

The giant crown of red hair was unmistakable across the gallery, and Therese gasped audibly as she recognized the woman in the distance. Carol had been distracted by looking at one of her framed prints and the glass of champagne in her hands, so she was startled when Therese’s grip in her hand tightened until her fingers hurt. 

“What is it, angel?” Carol asked, worried that Richard or some stupid oaf from Therese’s past had shown up.

“Look, Carol, over there,” Therese whispered, nodding to where she was looking.

Carol’s ruby lips pulled into a sly smile as she also recognized Charlotte standing by one of Therese’s larger photos; a colourful landscape from one of their trips together.

“How is she here?” Therese spluttered. They hadn’t seen Charlie since their last intimate night, and hadn’t had time to even think about going to Jackie’s strip club. 

“I have a feeling our dear Abigail has something to do with it,” Carol replied before tugging Therese along as she walked in Charlie’s direction. “Come on, it’s unfitting for the host not to welcome all guests.”

Charlie recognized them from afar before either woman said anything, and she rushed over, heels tapping the floor, before wrapping each of them in a warm hug.

“Therese! You never told me you were so talented! My goodness, Carol, where do you find them?”

Carol barked out a laugh and gave Charlie a warm kiss on the cheek, “I’m so happy to see you here, Charlotte. How did you know about Therese’s showing?”

“Oh, Abby, of course. Well, technically Jackie, but it’s basically like talking to the same person.”

All three of them agreed on that, before Therese asked her what she had been enjoying so far, nerves slowly dissipating as their conversation carried on.

“I must say- the portraits you’ve done? Marvellous!” Charlie gestured a little further away from them where Therese had a small cluster of intimate portraits of various models.

“If I had the money I’d ask you for a million photos, really! I desperately need new headshots, and what you manage to capture is just perfect.”

Therese frowned and said, “Oh, you wouldn’t have to pay me. I just like taking photos of people.”

“No- no, absolutely not. Work like this should be paid for, I don’t want to get away with it for free just because we’re... acquainted.”

Carol rolled her eyes lovingly and rubbed her thumb over Therese’s knuckles.

“Let Therese take some photos of you, Charlie. You’re beautiful and photogenic. I’m sure something could be... arranged between us, right angel?”

Therese flushed a bright red, and Charlie smiled from ear-to-ear,

“Only if you’d be a part of that arrangement, Carol.”

“Of course,” Carol grinned, bringing Therese’s hand up to her lips, “we come as a package deal.”

-

Charlotte appeared in a set of mom jeans and a giant knitted sweater that nearly slipped off of her slim shoulders. Therese coughed and felt herself nearly choke at the sight of her, and Carol chuckled, rubbing her back.

“Hey Carol,” Charlotte said warmly, waving at the blonde. In response, Carol tugged her close by the arm and kissed her firmly on the mouth. If Therese hadn’t been frozen in awe she would have raised her camera to take a picture.

“Is that what you’re planning to wear?” Therese asked, voice timid. She hadn’t counted on Charlie to look so cozy; lots of her looks had been fitted, seductive and feline thus far. 

“Oh, no,” Charlie replied cheekily. “Actually, I wasn’t planning on wearing anything at all.”

Carol barked a laugh at Therese, whose mouth dropped open.

“You’ve done nude portraits before, haven’t you, angel?” Carol asked, sensing Therese’s nerves.

“Well, yes, but- I’ve never-” I’ve never been so aroused by a model I’m shooting... except for Carol.

“Never photographed a redhead?” Charlotte winked, and adored the way Therese spluttered defensively. 

“I’ll show you where to drop your stuff. Let her get her cameras and doohickies set up,” Carol said, wrapping an arm around Charlie’s waist. She winked at the brunette before heading down the narrow hall and Therese did take a photo this time of the two women as they walked away. The lighting wasn’t right, and they were moving so there was bound to be blurriness, but this wasn’t for her portfolio. This was for her. 

Once in the changing room, Carol helped Charlie undress, folding her clothes neatly.

“This is a nice sweater,” she commented, rubbing her thumb over the soft grey material.

“Thanks,” Charlie chortled, applying a bit of gloss in the mirror. “It’s thrifted, actually. Do you work in the studio with Therese?”

“Oh, no,” Carol smiled, “I work at a furniture store a bit further in the city. But I figured our Therese might want some extra hands on deck considering she can get so.. tense.”

The redhead and blonde laughed gleefully at the memory of their bold yet shy Therese, the atmosphere amicable between them.

Carol held out a robe for Charlie to wear between shots, but the younger woman took her time in sauntering over to her, nude as the day she was born.

She reached past the bathrobe and fiddled with the collar on Carol’s blouse, making the blonde flush with heat as she bit her lip,

“You should pose with me,” she grinned. “As a treat for our Therese.”

Carol chuckled, “you young women are so bold sometimes. I’m far too ancient to pose for a camera nude.”

“I disagree,” Charlie hummed, before slipping on the robe and heading out again to the main studio space.

A large white backdrop was lit with a variety of coloured lights. Therese was playing with the settings, wondering if she should make it a dramatic, colourful portrait set-up, or something more clean and sharp.

She looked up at the sound of the two women approaching, and she had undone the top two buttons on her dress shirt.

“Where do you want me?” Charlie said, swaying her hips as she approached the photographer. Therese smiled, dimples highlighted in the lighting, and took Charlie’s hand with confidence.

Carol took a seat behind the tripod holding the camera, watching as Therese arranged the redhead on the ground by the backdrop. She guided her arm; draped her fingers over her knee, positioned her feet and knees with a professional touch, and Carol felt somehow heated at the sight of her becoming so in control.

“Let’s start with the robe on, first,” Therese suggested, heading towards where Carol was and fiddling one more time with the lights. 

“Not prepared for the full show yet?” Charlotte teased, relaxing into the pose Therese had put her in. 

“I just wanna give you a good introduction before we get there,” the brunette replied without hesitation and Carol smiled.

Therese snapped a few shots, enjoying her photography skills and the natural flair she had for directing Charlie’s poses. With every new pose, the robe slipped off a little more, and a bit more skin was revealed. The freckles were highlighted in the colours Therese chose, and her bright blue eyes really picked up on the photos.

Then, Therese told Carol to get some props, specifically the pale sheets and the small, white armchair with golden edges. When she returned, Charlie was fully nude, barely holding the robe against her chest, nipples peaking teasingly just by the edge of the fabric. Her legs, nimble and flexible, were stretched and folded in front of her, almost swan-like. 

She let Carol and Therese position the chair and draped her in the sheet, letting it slip off her shoulders, letting her leg peek through below, letting the valley of her breasts be shadowed dramatically as she leaned back and arched her whole body atop of the chair.

“Fuck,” Therese breathed as she stepped back. Carol could practically hear her heartbeat hammering, and the only sound for a while was the camera clicking and the shutter going off.

“It feels like you two have just been pampering me,” Charlie laughed, her head tossed back as Carol raked her hands through the curls to tame it a little. She wasn’t a professional assistant at all, didn’t know how to do hair or makeup, but she listened to Therese, and that seemed to satisfy everyone involved. 

“Don’t you think Carol’s been working really hard, Therese?” Charlie asked, her blue eyes flickering over to the blonde, who’s hand stilled in her hair. “Maybe she should pose with me. It’s only fair. Look how beautiful she is.”

Therese stopped shooting for a moment, and across the studio, grey eyes met green, and something fierce sparked between the two of them.

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Therese said, her voice uncharacteristically husky, “Carol?”

“As long as this doesn’t land on the front page of the New York Times,” Carol teased, fiddling with the hem of her skirt.

“Just the front page of our bedroom portfolio,” Therese grinned. Charlie gaped,

“You said you never would pose nude,” she said to Carol, accusingly.

“Never in such a professional space,” Carol replied, “and definitely not alongside someone else.”

“But I’m the exception?” Charlie pushed out her bottom lip lovingly and Carol smiled, but Therese was the one who replied,

“Always.”

Then Charlie began helping Carol undress, just like the blonde had done before, and also because Carol was nearly frozen with her mind racing. This beautiful woman, undressing her, as her lover stood by with a camera and a keen eye, ready to capture every moment, every touch, every kiss-

“Kiss her for me,” Therese ordered with a quiet mumble, raising the camera, “it’ll help relax her.”

“Now who’s tense, hm?” Charlotte said, before kissing Carol on the cheek. Her blouse was entirely unbuttoned, revealing a creamy lace bra.

“What would you like, dear Therese?” Charlie asked, turning towards the photographer, the sheet forgotten by her feet.

“Act as if the camera isn’t here,” Therese suggested, “show her a good time. But not too good.”

Carol groaned, rendered speechless as the redhead raised her up and slipped the blouse off for her. Then she sat Carol down in the chair, shimmied her skirt off for her so she was only in her undergarments, and Charlie entirely nude. She left Carol’s blood-red heels on.

Therese was shuffling around, snapping photos as Charlie began rocking and swaying in rhythm atop of Carol’s lap. Carol’s hands gripped her hips, gently at first, but then the dominant fire came back to her. Once she got used to the glaring lights, the new environment of the studio, and the softness of Charlie’s skin so close to hers now, her grip tightened and her mind regained its laser-focus during sex.

Charlie moved off of her lap, pushed between her legs, and without hesitation pressed her tongue against Carol’s panties. And Therese was there, instantly, to catch the awed, aroused look on Carol’s face as the tongue began rolling against her clothed cunt. Her hair tumbled back as she let out a shaken groan, and Therese smirked while blushing as her camera clicked once, twice, thrice.

She got a closeup of Carol’s hand, twisting in Charlie’s hand. Carol’s leg swinging over Charlie’s shoulder with her heel still on, the sheen of sweat collecting in the valley of her still-covered breasts, the arch of Charlie’s back as she licked and teased the older woman. 

This is what she loved, Therese realized, more than anything. The pure unbridled adoration and lust, the beauty of two women lost in pleasure. Whether she was witnessing or experiencing it, there was something so incredibly timeless about it that she stopped for a moment in photographing, and just watched. 

Carol’s breath was hitching, and her eyes were rolling back, and her voice was raising in colourful curses, but Charlie pulled away just as her legs began to tremble. 

“I remember what you said, last time,” Charlie purred, kissing her knee. That only Therese would make her cum. 

“Oh, you delightful vixen,” Carol groaned, pulling her up. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Therese knew that teasing Carol would only come to bite you in the ass. Because if Carol couldn’t have her orgasm, she’d go above and beyond to have you begging for her instead.

And that’s how Charlie ended up on Carol’s lap again, her front against her back, legs spread over the armrests and Carol’s hand working vigorously against her swollen cunt. The redhead cried out, breathing heavily, and Carol’s other hand fisted in her mass of curls, pulling her head back so she could bite the fair, freckled skin of her neck.

Though her hands were sweating, Therese would not miss out on this image. The camera came back up and she captured the very moment that Charlie tumbled over the edge, lipgloss faint and smudged, her eyes open and desperate. She stared right into the camera, and Therese visibly shivered.

Charlie fell limp in Carol’s arms, the older woman holding her gently. 

And then, “Therese.. I think it’s your turn. You’ve been waiting like such a good girl for a while now.”

“Is that card not full yet, with how many photos you’ve been taking?” Charlie added.

The two women quickly stripped the brunette of her clothes, her slim, lithe body practically glowing in the studio lights. Carol took her time to caress her skin like she always did, which Charlie took advantage of and struck a few million-dollar-prize photos of the two lovers. Therese didn’t know how experienced she would be with her camera, but she supposed everyone could click a button and take a photo. With Carol’s mouth swirling around her nipple, she was far too distracted to care. 

Then a smaller hand came to rest between her legs, and Charlie was next to her. They traded places from before, so now Therese was in the chair and Charlie hovering over her again. 

The redhead pulled one of Therese’s legs over her shoulder, stretching her delightfully as she sat back in the chair, and worked her fingers against her clit until she was wet enough to push inside. Then, as Carol looked on in wonder, she used the momentum of her hips to drive her fingers deep, kissing the brunette with abandon as she fucked her until the chair starting moving backwards from the motions. 

Carol took a few photos, knowing they wouldn’t be as good as Therese’s but wanting to remember this nonetheless. Charlie’s hair tumbled down and was lit like fire in the lights. 

There wasn’t a single ounce of regret in Carol’s body as she watched Therese cum and tremble in the redhead’s arms, her hand gripping the armrests until her knuckles turned white. 

Charlie continued rutting against Therese, enjoying the slow motions and Therese’s soft groans. Every move still carried a shiver of pleasure for the two of them as Therese basked in the afterglow of her orgasm.

“C-Carol,” she breathed. Carol looked up, intensely, but Therese’s eyes were shut tightly. She then leaned over and whispered something in Charlie’s ear who lit up and immediately moved off of Therese’s body.

Carol cautiously walked over to the chair and Therese pulled her down for a kiss before pulling her to straddle one of her thighs.

Charlie was there immediately, facing their profiles and angled view with the camera. Carol looked a little shy- a little nervous, but Therese kissed her again and again, and then guided the blonde’s own hand down to her cunt that was moving over Therese’s slim thigh in desperation.

“Oh-,” she said in realization. Charlie grinned behind the camera, and clicked the button. 

Carol shook, moving like an animal, her head tossing back, and then pressing into Therese’s neck, her body writhing until she spilled all over her young lover. 

The last photo was that of the blonde and brunette embraced in the warm light, nude and sweaty, and perfect. Charlotte looked at it with gleeful smugness, thinking it must be the best photo out of the bunch.

After a few moments, Carol and Therese untangled and the three women helped one another get dressed. 

“How about a meal? I’m starving after all that.. exercise,” Charlotte suggested, “plus it’s the least I can do. If you won’t let me pay for this session, let me buy us takeout, at least.”

“Oh, alright,” Therese waved her hand, blushing but smiling. Carol had wound her arm around her middle and kissed her cheek as they headed out of the studio. 

“Best put that camera away, angel,” Carol suggested as they got outside. Therese was flicking through the photos that had just been taken, and she blushed once she realized she probably shouldn’t look at those in public. She’d savour them later, in bed with Carol, and add them to their collection.

taglist: @fand0m-obsess3d-g33k @the-obscurity​ 

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 69 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). And Dartmouth420…this one’s for you! 💫

Previously: Courtney was having a rough week at work, but didn’t care about any of it when Bianca uttered three magic words, and Violet’s design was chosen as the spring runway finale look.

This Chapter: A wardrobe fitting for the spring runway collection ends in a workplace rendez-vous, Violet plans to work extra hard over the holidays, and Courtney accepts a welcome invitation.

***

Raven turned in the mirror, unsure if she should put her hair up or keep it down, the hustle and bustle of all the people required to run a fitting behind her.

She was wearing the closing gown, or what would become it with time; what she had been put in for now only a muslin skirt base and a top with loose stitched sleeves.

It was normal for couture to not be finished when it was tried on for the first time, the fitting today there to make sure that Fame liked the silhouette in motion and that Raven fit in the garment since she was the closing model, but she had to admit she was curious to see Violet’s actual work and the intricate details of it that Raja had mentioned in passing.

“Hey princess.”

Raven looked in the mirror, watching as Raja walked up to her, her fiancée leaving that morning before she was even awake, a mug in the sink and the smell of coffee the only traces of her. She was wearing a blue suit with a yellow shirt, the pants cinched in at her waist, her long hair in a thick half updo.

They had been together for years, but sometimes, Raven could still get butterflies when Raja looked at her just right, few things as powerful or sexy as Raja’s confidence and how she carried herself.

“Hey,” Raven smiled, turning her head so Raja could give her a quick peck, her arms sneaking around her waist. “Hair up or down?”

“Hmm,” Raja ran a hand through Raven’s hair, pulling it to one side before resting her head on her shoulder, her gray eyes focusing in on her. “Down. Even though you do look gorgeous enough to get away with whatever you want.”

Raven smirked, a pleasant sense of pride washing over her since she had been extra careful with her makeup. Normally, Raven didn’t do first fittings, but she wasn’t going to miss out on having Raja’s undivided attention, standing completely still for an hour a price worth paying.

“My beautiful girl.” Raja kissed Raven’s neck, pulling her even closer, and that was when Raven felt it, her eyes widening in the mirror.

“Raj,” Raven hissed, keeping her voice as a whisper, “are you?”

“Mmh,” Raja nodded, a grin on her face as she gave a small thrust of her hips, a strap clearly against her thigh. “A little surprise.”

Raven bit her lip, barely hiding a whimper at how insanely hot this was, the surprise in no way shape or form little. She loved it when Raja was packing, loved it when she knew there was a chance that she could get thrown against a wall at any minute and fucked hard and fast. “Oh god.”

“I’ll see you in my office once we’re done,” Raja smirked. “Right?”

This time, Raven did whimper as she nodded. She had no idea how she’d play it cool for the actual fitting, how she’d deal with the sight of Raja leaned back in a chair, taking her notes and sharing her inputs, knowing that she had a strap ready to go.

***

“Let me see the side.”

Gigi was just about to open her mouth to reply with a yes, when she felt a stranger touch her hips, turning her, and she remembered that Sutan had told her that fittings wasn’t a talking job.

She was standing in the middle of what had to be a tailoring floor. There were the professional grade sewing machines she recognised from her mothers workshop on desks all around her, the desks piled high with fabrics and surrounded by half-dressed mannequins. Gigi tried her best not to bounce in excitement at being so close to the process, but it was impossible not to.

“Do we still like the fabric?”

Bimini had told Gigi to remember that it was rude to stare at the people doing their job before she had left that morning, but it was hard not to sneak a glance out of the corner of her eye.

She had never met Miss Fame, but she had seen her in her mom's fashion magazines, the blonde sitting at a table against the window, her legs crossed, the red Louboutin sole the only part of her outfit that wasn’t white or gold.

“You’d rather we don’t go with the angora?” A bald man took a step forward, a gigantic pink clipboard in his hand. “I’m afraid merino might be too hot for the summer.”

Gigi was wearing a delicate crop top with short sleeves, the wool on it soft and extremely fluffy.

“Actually-” She opened her mouth, almost taking a step forward. “I think-“

She wanted to give her feedback, her top already hot to wear in December, and if it was for a summer collection, that seemed like important information, but she was cut off by a finger being held up, Sutan’s sister shooting her a look that told her to zip it without a single word.

Gigi hadn’t even known that Sutan had a twin sister until she had walked in for the fitting, the two of them strikingly similar even though they were different genders, their nose, eyes and height practically the same.

Raja gave her a small smile when Gigi nodded, her eyes lingering on her for a moment to make sure that she was actually silent, before she redirected her attention to Miss Fame, the discussion of wool blends still going on like Gigi and the other staff weren’t even there.

***

Raja sat at her computer, going through some model portfolios. Now that they’d chosen the models for the opening and closing looks, she could start to fill out the rest of the show. Some of the girls they’d had in the fitting today would be great, but some desperately needed to be replaced.

Model selection wasn’t what Fame cared about most, though that could simply be because Raja was so good at it, but it was important to have cohesion amongst the models, to tell a story with the girls you picked out.

She could hear Raven before she saw her, the firm footsteps of a woman who’d stomped many runways calling out. She smiled to herself, knowing that after their little flirtation this morning, and then the long wait after she and Fame had left the fitting, that her fiancée would be in quite a state.

Raven entered the office, quickly slamming the door and locking it. Raja barely looked up, pretended to be concentrating hard on her computer.

This was all part of their game; in some ways, it was Raja’s favorite part.

A slight huff of annoyance that Raja knew was exaggerated for effect left Raven’s lips as she strode forward, finally planting herself down directly in front of Raja, preventing her from seeing her computer.

She looked fucking fantastic, and Raja leaned back in her desk chair, watching Raven slowly shed her clothes until she was naked, wearing nothing but underwear, diamond jewelry and a pair of heels, legs spread open invitingly, a wet patch already forming.

Raja rolled her chair forward, letting Raven drape one leg over the arm. She pressed a line of kisses up Raven’s delicious thigh, feeling her gasp as she moved her panties aside, breath ghosting over her clit.

One of the things Raja loved the most about Raven was her absolute inability to hold back--whether that was bluntly stating her opinions, making her feelings well known with just a look, or immediately trembling and whimpering the second she was the slightest bit turned on.

“Princess…” Raja whispered, hands sliding around her waist as she rose up out of the chair. “Do you want me to fuck you now?”

“Yes, yes,” Raven begged, reaching out to claw open Raja’s pants and shove down the panties that had been holding her dildo in place, letting it spring free.

“Turn around,” she ordered, right in Raven’s ear, and after a slight shiver, Raven obeyed, leaning over the desk with her ass on glorious display.

Raja slid her hands up that smooth, tanned skin, letting her strap slip between Raven’s legs to tease at her. She was already quivering and wet, reaching down to toy with her clit.

“Not yet, princess…” Raja laced her fingers into Raven’s and pulled her hand away, lips pressed to her neck. She was met with an impatient whine, and only chuckled, sliding both hands up to pinch her nipples.

“Oh god,” Raven moaned, throwing her head back, legs widening.

“Are you sure you’re ready, my love?”

“Yes, fucking yes,” Raven whined. Ready was quite an understatement--she was dripping wet and clawing at the surface of Raja’s desk. Her hips pushed back against Raja as she slowly, slowly slid the dildo inside her.

Raja gently cupped her tits, thumbs rubbing her nipples in circles.

“Do you want to touch yourself, princess?” Raja murmured in her ear, and was met with only a whimper of affirmation, Raven arching her back and rolling her hips, desperately trying to get the friction she wanted. “Go ahead…”

Raven’s hand immediately went to her clit once again, rubbing in furious circles as Raja began to thrust into her. She started out slow, but was soon fucking her relentlessly against the desk, the moans dripping from Raven’s lips the most beautiful music. She didn’t stop when Raven came the first time, sure she could wring a few more orgasms from her, pounding against her ass until she was lying face down on the desk with her head on her arms, body limp with exhaustion.

Raja pulled out slowly and carefully, pressing kisses to her shoulders and neck before sliding her panties back up her legs and giving her a firm pat on the ass.

“Very.”

***

“So. What’s the verdict?”

“On Symone? She’s practically perfect brother dear,”

“Raj-“

“Relax, I’m teasing you. Gigi’s…young.”

“Models tend to be, but we both know that’s not what I asked. Now come on. I’m a big boy, I can handle it.”

“She’s beautiful, eager, exiatable, and not at all ready.”

“Not at all?”

“She almost talked during the fitting. Several times, and I’m pretty sure I saw her chew gum.”

“I had a feeling.”

“You always have feelings. So?”

“She’s good, she has potential, but listening isn’t exactly her forte-”

“You should always throw her at Michael Kors.”

“What great advice.”

“Fine. Marc Jacobs then. No one says she has to be an exclusive for her first season.”

“I can live with that as long as you don’t suggest student shows. I’m too old to manage a student show model.”

“Getting too comfortable TanTan?”

“Getting tired. You know, other people take broken-in models. Models who know what they’re doing. I don’t know why I keep doing this. ”

“Because you love it, and because you’re the best.”

***

“Kat-Kat!” Pearl exclaimed, setting her bags on the kitchen table. “You’re still up!”

“Hi Pearlie,” Katya said, smiling over her cup of tea. “Whatcha got there?”

“I’m so glad you asked, madame,” Pearl said with a grin.

Just a week ago, Katya had looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders--sad and withdrawn, her vibrant personality dulled by fear and anxiety. Now, it was a whole different story.

She still clearly had concerns about the whole baby thing (which Pearl tried to understand, but she found it hard. After all, who on earth would be a better mother than Katya??), but it was a difference of night and day, and Pearl was relieved to see her back to herself.

Pearl had been out after work...skulking around the strip club again like a loser--Dahlia hadn’t even been working, as far as Pearl could tell while she waited, draining 3 gin and tonics, overtipping the girls that were actually there since she already had the cash.

When she had left, she’d walked by a Whole Foods right before closing, essentially emptying out the woman's health aisle.

She pulled the items out one by one for Katya to see.

“So, I was talking to Alyssa at work, and you know she’s had three kids, so she gave me a list of things to get for you. We’ve got multivitamins, folate, iron, vitamin D…” Pearl grinned as she twisted one of the bottles around. “All in all just a bunch of stuff to keep you and Killer healthy.”

“Awww, thank you baby!” Katya had jumped up, and now pressed a sloppy kiss to Pearl’s cheek. “You’re the best.”

“No, you’re the best, and Killer’s the luckiest baby in the whole world.”

“Wow, so glad that nickname is sticking,” Trixie said drily, walking into the kitchen, but Katya was laughing, so he couldn’t be too annoyed.

“Hey Trix.” Pearl grinned at him before opening one of the cabinets and helping Katya load up all the new vitamins and supplements. “Actually, I’m glad you’re both here, because uh…”

Pearl scratched her head, unsure of exactly how to approach the situation.

“So...listen, I know it’s not like, super urgent, but I assume that once Killer gets here, you’re gonna want to use my bedroom for them.”

“Oh,” Katya’s eyes widened. It seemed like something she hadn’t considered.

“So, you know, if you want me to start looking for another place, I can-”

“No!” Katya exclaimed, putting a hand on her arm, adding, “I don’t want you to go.”

“Yeah, I don’t think we have to worry about it yet,” Trixie said. “We’re not about to kick out our oldest just because you’re getting a little brother.”

Pearl and Katya both laughed, Katya moving a hand to her belly and asking, “You think it’s a boy?”

“Oh uh...I dunno, maybe,” Trixie grinned. “Either way, they better like pink.”

***

“So this is the girl you want me to take a look at?” Sutan put down their drinks, taking the portfolio Karl handed him, the two of them only just sitting down in a booth in the corner of one of their favorite bars.

“Mmh,” Karl hummed, a glint in his eyes as he grabbed his drink with a little umbrella. “She’s been asking and asking about doing America full time, and I think you’d be a good fit for her.”

“You think I’m a good fit for everyone.” Sutan smiled, flicking through the portfolio. They didn’t actually have to talk business, this entire exchange just as easily done in an email, but it was a long-standing tradition of theirs to make Elite pick up the tab, even though they could more than afford their drinks on their own.

“And she did British Vogue?”

“Cover and all,” Karl smirked, Sutan stopping on the printout of the pictures.

“There’s great skin, interesting eyes, good hair. All natural?”

“Not a single extension.”

“Hmm… I mean, she’s pretty, ” Sutan turned to another page, taking a sip of his whiskey.

“And?”

“She’s very pretty.”

“Ah,” Karl sighed, rolling his eyes. “And there he is, Amrull the asshole.”

“Ha,” Sutan snorted. “I resent that. All I’m saying is that I’m not sure if I have space, and I just signed Symone.”

“You can have more than one black girl in your stable.”

“Please,” Sutan raised an eyebrow, refusing to take the jab. It wasn’t something he bragged about, but he had always represented girls of color, had pushed to get them jobs and opportunities long before any of his fellow agents had picked up on fashion being more than boring blonde European girls and the occasional diversity hire. “You know it’s not that, I’m simply questioning her potential.”

“You liked Bimini.” Karl smirked, stirring his drink.

“You’re never going to let me forget that, huh?”

It was true that Karl was the one who had scouted Bimini, that he was the one who had picked her out of the crowd at a concert he had gone to in London, but Sutan was the one who had nurtured her, who had taught her and who had defended her from Elite when she had shaved her eyebrows off.

“No,” Karl grinned, raising his drink to say cheers, Sutan clicking their glass together.

“I’ll meet her,” Sutan took the portfolio, sliding it into his messenger bag, “but don’t expect anything.”

***

“Knock knock…” Roxy said, poking her head in the doorway of Miss Fame’s office suite, where Courtney was sitting with her head in her arms. “You alright?”

“Yeah!” Courtney jumped slightly, sitting up straight and forcing a smile. “Sorry, I was just having a moment.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, girl,” Roxy said, waving her hand, the other one holding her mug of coffee. She perched on the edge of Courtney’s desk. She’d been dying to talk to her more all week, and get some juicy details about her relationship now that it was public, but they’d both been insanely busy. Today though, Roxy had spent the morning training the temp who was covering her desk a few days next week, and the girl was quick enough that she felt secure leaving her alone for a while.

Unfortunately, Courtney didn’t look like she was in the mood for spilling any dirt. Her desk was littered with multiple projects, and she just generally looked like she was both miserable and under water.

“Rough day, huh?” Roxy prompted, hoping to get her to talk.

“Yeah,” Courtney admitted, sighing. “Rough week. And if Miss Fame doesn’t approve this holiday card list, I’m fucked.”

“I’m sorry.” Roxy tilted her head, wondering how to approach her real agenda tactfully before blurting out, “So how are things with Bianca?”

It was like Courtney’s entire mood instantly lifted, the mere mention of Bianca making her face soften into a smile, eyes shining.

“Can’t complain there,” she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Actually…” Courtney glanced around, lowering her voice to say, “Maybe you can help me with a little non-work-related project, if you’ve got a few minutes?”

“You’ve got my attention!”

***

COURTNEY: I have a confession…

COURTNEY: I stole something from your apt.

BIANCA: Lol, what?

Bianca flipped her phone over quickly, hoping that no one else in the editorial meeting had glimpsed the picture of Courtney on her phone, clad in nothing but Loubs and a pair of her own lacy red panties. There were more pictures, and Bianca was dying to see them, but she’d have to get through the rest of the fucking meeting before fully enjoying them in the privacy of her office.

“...so I think that it would be beneficial if we included more-”

“Yes, yes, approved,” Bianca said, cutting Dan off with a wave of her hand. “Anyone have anything else to add, or can we move on?”

“Somewhere to be, boss?” Nina asked silkily, a knowing smile on her face that told Bianca there was a chance she’d seen her phone.

“I’m sorry, did you want to spend another hour talking about mint green?” Bianca asked, trying to cover her impatience.

“No, I’m all good.” Nina smiled again.

“Great.”

***

“Once again, thank you so so much.”

“Whatever you need, Chachki!”

Violet smiled, making her way to the elevator, her new security card safely tucked away in her pocket. She had just finished a visit with the building's security, the guys who ran it all much more pleased to see her again then she had dared imagine.

Her visit hadn’t been strictly necessary, her designer clearance more than enough to get to and from the design floor in her everyday work life, but she had wanted to make sure that she had access to Galactica over the holidays, the security team instantly unlocking the backdoors and service points for her when she had asked.

Violet knew she wasn’t working in Fame’s office anymore, and knew that she was allowed to go on vacation, but she still felt bad about leaving in January, even though the majority of the new collection work was out of the designers’ hands.

She hadn’t checked in with Sutan about whether or not he’d be working between Christmas and New Years, but if she knew him at all, he would, though the parties Sutan often called work with a smile on his lips didn’t really live up to Violet’s definition of the word.

If she was honest, she was kind of excited for some peace and quiet, to have the floor entirely to herself, the extra time hopefully enough to catch her up to the standards of the company motto.

“Remember,” Violet whispered. “Only perfection is acceptable.”

***

“Hey angel, you on the way?” Bianca asked, after answering on the first ring.

“Hi,” Courtney said. In spite of the stress she was under, and her regret at skipping the romantic dinner she knew that Bianca had planned, a smile pulled at her lips at the sound of her voice. “And no, I’m sorry, I can't make it tonight. I’m gonna be here super late.”

“You’re not really sending me those naughty pictures and then cancelling, are you?” Bianca asked, voice low and husky.

“I’m sorry, I wish I could, you have no idea how much,” Courtney said. And it was true--too true. Thinking about seeing Bianca had been the only thing getting her through the day, but there was just no way to leave now. If she thought about it too hard, Courtney knew she’d start crying, so she was trying to simply suck it up and be an adult, no matter how much she wanted to run. “But I have so much to do. Miss Fame just approved the holiday card list and if I don’t get them in the mail before tomorrow morning’s pickup, I’m gonna-”

“Bring it here. You can work, I’ll order some dinner...and then we can do all the unspeakable things that I’ve been planning ever since you sent me those pictures.”

Courtney could feel her cheeks heating up. The pull to say yes was strong, but she was still uncertain. “But what if I have to re-print some labels? I’m just-”

“I have a printer, sunshine.”

Courtney bit her lip. It had been a rough week; Miss Fame was in a worse mood than normal, and her to do list never seemed to get shorter no matter how hard she worked or how late she stayed. And on top of everything, the weather had been absolute shit, so another freezing night in her damp, drafty apartment sounded like hell. She knew for sure that being in Bianca’s arms would instantly make everything better.

“Okay. Okay, yes, I’m coming,” she said. “I just need to get everything together here and then I’ll head over.”

“Perfect.” Bianca said, and Courtney could hear the satisfied smile in her voice, imagine her dimples deepening. “I’ll see you soon, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Courtney said, stomach still flipping with excitement every time she said the words.

[luffles424]

Zombie Bites

☼ Pairing: Yoongi x reader

☼ Genre: college!au, f2l, light angst, fluff, smut

☼ Count: 13.2K

☼ Warnings: alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, teasing, biting, marking, messy sex (look you fuck him in zombie makeup, of course its gonna be a little messy), blood? (its fake but like, it’s still there and described)

☼ Summary: Your friends have always been willing to assist you when you need a model to practice makeup on. And with the upcoming zombie film on campus is no difference. But something feels different this time, can a zombie movie be more than just a zombie movie? 

☼ a/n: Adkjsdfgdf this was supposed to be for Yoongi’s birthday and I’m clearly a little late! But, it’s here! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

You kick the door, hands too full to even attempt shifting things so you could properly knock and if your hands were free enough to knock, then you’d just open the door yourself. You hope at least one of them is home, you really don’t want to have to carry all of this back home. Although you know Taehyung should be home and he lives nearby so you can always go there if this falls through. You know Yoongi should be home though, he doesn’t have classes today, but you can never account for his personal schedule for the studio. Primarily because it doesn’t exist and Yoongi goes when Yoongi feels like. You’re fairly certain Jin has a rehearsal today, but you can’t quite remember. You’re hoping to catch Yoongi anyway. You enjoy practicing on Jin, or any of your friends, their willingness to always let you do whatever to their faces makes you so grateful to have met them. 

Yoongi and Jin were the first ones you met. You and Yoongi met in your stagecraft class freshman year. You both were hopelessly lost. Although you suspect Yoongi was more so, given that he is more involved in sound. Jin once told you later how late Yoongi would stay up researching so that he could help you in class and when you would meet to study together. As for you and Jin, you shared a beginner film class, being forced to pair up for a project but finding that you worked remarkably well together, each of your passions melding well. 

You discovered they knew each other already when you went to Yoongi’s dorm one night to study and Jin answered the door. From there, Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Jungkook all slowly joined through shared classes and mutual friends. Now you’re in your senior year with a tight knit group of friends who you’d do anything for and who would do anything for you in return. Like right now, when you desperately need a model to practice on. 

And while you love your friends, Yoongi is your favorite to practice on. And that’s only partially because you may or may not be also crushing on your best friend a little bit. But it’s hard not to fall for Yoongi. For all that he acts like a tough guy in all black and leather jackets, he’s the sweetest. He’s brought you food and coffee when you’re spending long hours in the art studio working and you do the same for him. Even his teasing towards you is sweet, it’s only sometimes upsetting because it’s exactly how a guy might tease his younger sister. 

But beyond that, Yoongi’s the most patient. Taking the hours they sometimes have to spend in the chair in stride and not shifting in the slightest. Hoseok’s the worst at it, he enjoys talking too much and is animated when he does so. You keep shorter projects for him. Hoseok’s face suits subtle makeup more anyway. You’re really not sure why you want to make Yoongi look beat up. Well you do know why, but you’re choosing not to think about that reason. 

It takes a few moments after your knock for the door to be opened, revealing a slightly disheveled Yoongi, which means you’ve woken him up from a nap. He’s going to be a little harder to convince if you just woke him up. It looks like he’s been at the studio all night again. His eyes narrow at you like he knew it was you, before his gaze trails down to the bag of food in one hand and your makeup case in the other. 

He groans, but steps back anyway to allow you to enter. You count it as a win that he doesn’t slam the door in your face. Not that it’d do much, all of you have keys to each other’s places. Namjoon just lamented the other week, when he’d once again lost his set of keys, meaning everyone had to get new copies for him, why all of you don’t just live together. Jin suggested the better option was just to not give Namjoon keys.

“I brought lamb skewers.” You pipe up before he has a chance to say anything. He eyes you suspiciously for a moment as you set everything down on the table. You turn to him with a hopeful smile. “Where’s Jin?”

Yoongi ignores you in favor of digging a skewer out to munch on before deeming you worthy of an answer. “Apparently smart enough to not be here when you come by looking for a guinea pig.” He says around a mouthful.

You pout, wringing your hands for extra effect. “Do you guys really find it a bother?” You look down, you know Yoongi doesn’t like seeing you sad. “I can just post some fliers around if you don’t want to do it.”

You hear Yoongi huff then his arm is wrapping around you. It gives you the perfect way to hide your victorious grin. He’s a little too predictable. 

“What are we doing today? Please no glitter. Jimin is still shedding it from last week.”

You giggle, moving to open your case and sort through the makeup you brought with you today. “Jimin was the prettiest fairy, thank you very much. And he wanted the glitter for the video. Have you not seen it? It’s… stunning.” You wave the thought off. “But no, no glitter for you. You get this instead.” You turn and hold up a bottle of fake blood. “I need to practice my horror and gore type stuff. We have a short film project in a few weeks and I have never done a full zombie before. Plus it’ll help me round out my portfolio.” You grin conspiratorially with him. “Plus, I figured we could prank the others.”

He lets out a put upon sigh, but you can see the grin he’s trying to hide. You know he’s always down to fuck with the others, the perks of such an artsy school giving you the ability to do so frequently in creative ways. “Okay, fine. What do you need me to do?”

You tug the white shirt you’d bought and hold it out to him. “Put this on first.”

He looks like he has something to say but just shrugs and does as you ask. He tugs his current shirt off and you try your best not to stare. Jimin was shirtless in front of you last week for hours for his fairy makeup and you were completely unphased by it, something you know that many people on campus would boggle at the fact that you had that in front of you and did nothing. Yet Yoongi is just changing his shirt, something you’ve seen plenty of times over the course of your friendship. All of your friends have seen everyone else in the midst of dressing for one thing or another, you’re all comfortable with each other. And with many of your degrees being what they are, you have to be comfortable with people in varying states of dress. But with Yoongi, this time, it’s a little hard to remind yourself that you’re friends and this is for practice. Something about the end of senior year drawing so near makes every moment with Yoongi feel slightly different. A little more charged than before. 

Once he’s got the new shirt on, you grab a pair of scissors and the front of his shirt with your other hand so that you can pull it away from his skin. 

Yoongi jerks backwards at the sight of the sharp object so close to his chest. “Woah! I thought this was supposed to be fake!”

You roll your eyes, tugging him back towards you. He goes with no resistance, despite his vocal protests. “I’m cutting the shirt, dumby. Not you.”

He pouts at the name. “Well how should I know that?”

You give him a flat look, does he really think you’d use scissors on him? “You think if I wanted to hurt you that I would lug all of my makeup over here to do it?” You glance at the open container of food, grinning evilly. “Besides, if I really wanted to hurt you, I’d go for your precious skewers.”

Yoongi gasps with horror and you really hope it’s fake horror. With him and Jungkook though, there’s a very real possibility that they would react this way and be completely serious. No one should be that theatrical over some lamb on a stick. “How dare you.”

You pluck a skewer from his protective hold and bite into it. “I said if. You think I’m gonna just get rid of my best model?”

“You’re just saying that so I don’t kick you out.” He grumbles, reluctantly setting the container back down like he’s scared that you’ll do something to it, but not before eating one more. 

You murmur a quiet ‘uh huh’, finally making a few cuts to the shirt and ripping them a little more with your hands to make it look more natural. You scrutinize it for a moment, maybe also taking the opportunity to admire the way Yoongi’s chest stretches the fabric and the glimpses of skin you get through the rips. Maybe you should’ve had Yoongi doing more full body stuff for you. You nod your approval to the shirt and pull out a brush and small jar filled with a dark brown powder. Yoongi watches you curiously as you open it and start to add streaks of it to his shirt to dirty it. 

“Is this supposed to be dirt?” He questions in disbelief. You nod distractedly as you continue to focus and you miss the face Yoongi makes. “Did you buy that? You know there’s dirt outside right?”

You finish, giving Yoongi an unimpressed look. If he really thought he was about to question how you do your job then maybe you should’ve used the scissors on him. “Do you want to go roll around in the dirt?” Your half tempted to make him go do it if he’s going to be a stickler for realism. You hold back a laugh when he shakes his head quickly, eyes wide cause he knows that you’ll follow through. “Then don’t question my fake dirt, brat.” You tap his nose with the brush, leaving a small splotch behind. You gesture to the stool nearby, the one that’s become the de facto makeup chair here. “Sit please.”

Yoongi does so as you gather up the few things you decide to use for this practice run. You don’t want to go too crazy for practice, especially if this is to be believable. Plus, you don’t have to do just zombie work, you’ve got to do the human too. So this is the perfect time to try that. You begin to work, falling into a companionable silence. Yoongi always stays quiet, eyes tracing your face as you work. Namjoon always questions what you’re using and doing, always wants to learn, even if he’s not particularly good at it. They all question, even Yoongi, but they usually wait until after you’ve finished to ask about something.

You step back, head tilted as you trace over Yoongi’s features, now dirtier, faint bruises adorning his cheek and jaw, along with a scraped cheek and temple and a split lip. 

Yoongi speaks up while you inspect your work. “I thought you said zombie?” He looks adorably confused, so at odds with the beaten look he’s currently sporting.

You nod absently, picking the bruise wheel and sponge back up and adding more detailing around his eyes. Yoongi obediently closes his eyes without being told. You could kiss him, he’s the only one you never have to remind to do this, reading you and your movements more than well enough to anticipate what you need him to do. It’s definitely part of why he’s your favorite model. “I did. But I’m doing both the zombies and the human so I need to practice this too. And we have plans tonight and zombie makeup will take too long. I’d practice on Jin but I’m gonna have to do this on him enough for shooting.”

Yoongi peeks an eye open to look at you. “Jin’s working on this too?”

You switch your wheel and sponge out for a brush and the bottle of fake blood, thick enough to make small cuts and drips without spreading out past where you want it. “Yeah. I got the project first.” You pause and roll your eyes, memories of Jin begging you to do his makeup for his audition. There may have been a promise of all the alcohol you could drink, one that you definitely took him up on. “And I’m pretty sure he would’ve gotten the part regardless. But he wanted makeup like this done for his audition. Said he wanted to go in in character already and he wanted them to be able to see how he’d look in the role. That’s why I know I need to practice this. It was good enough for just a simple audition, but it’ll need to be perfect for the shoot.” 

You add a few drips of blood to the shirt and step away again. “I’m actually surprised that you don’t know about this already. It’s a big collaboration between a bunch of the departments. I’m pretty sure Tae and Kook are doin camera stuff. And music definitely seems like an important part to include.”

Yoongi shrugs, a small lift of his shoulders so he doesn’t move too much for you. “We usually don’t hear about projects until later. We’re not as needed for earlier parts. If it’s starting soon, we’ll probably be told soon then.”

You close the cap on the blood, admiring your work with a pleased grin. You knew he’d look good a little roughed up. He looks every bit the bad boy he pretends to be, you just need to convince him to wear his leather jacket too. That’ll complete the look. “It’d be cool to work on a project together within our disciplines. I don’t think we’ve done that yet.” You laugh. “Imagine it, our names on the big screen together.” You sigh a little wistfully, it might be the only way your names are up somewhere together. 

You miss the curious look Yoongi gives you at your sigh. “Yeah, too bad Jin’s name will be first. And bigger. We’ll just be tucked down at the end where everyone stops paying attention or leaves.”

You nudge his shoulder playfully. “I pay attention.”

He smiles softly at you as you begin to clean up. “I know you do.”

You finish cleaning quickly, you didn’t use that much to begin with and tug your phone out and grin. “Your favorite part. Picture time.”

Yoongi groans, foot kicking out in a show of protest. “Do I at least get to see what you’ve done to me first?” 

You roll your eyes at his dramatics but flip the front facing camera on and hand your phone to him. His eyes widen briefly when he finally sees himself. He turns his face, looking at it from different angles, a low ‘wow’ escaping him as he gingerly prods a bruise like it will actually hurt if he touches it. He grins as he hands the phone back. 

“Excellent work as always.”

You feel yourself grow warm, hiding your pleased smile behind your phone as you direct Yoongi’s poses so you can get shots to work from for final ideas for the film. You tuck your phone away once you're done. 

“Great let’s go. I think everyone else should be at Tae, Jimin and Jungkook’s by now.”

You grab Yoongi’s hand before he can enter the apartment, you can hear the others already inside. He turns to you with a questioning look but you ignore it as you make a few last second adjustments, fixing his hat and brushing the shoulders of his leather jacket before giving a satisfied nod. He ruffles your hair and you swat at his hand as you dart around him to enter. 

Your appearance is met with gasps and Jimin is quickly hurrying over, completely ignoring you in favor of Yoongi, hands hovering like he’s scared to hurt him more. “Are you okay?! Oh my god, you shouldn’t be walking, come sit down.” 

You bite your lip as Jimin ushers Yoongi to the couch, watching as the others flock to him as well, all throwing questions at him at once. You notice Jin in the kitchen doorway and he smirks at you, clearly knowing exactly what’s going on, but he seems more than willing to keep quiet in favor of whatever your plan is. You don’t know how long to let this go on, but it’s too funny to watch. Yoongi actually looks a little flustered and it makes the scene all the more adorable to watch.  

“Who did this!” Jungkook pushes Jimin aside and squishes Yoongi’s cheeks, looking imploringly into his eyes. “Please tell me you remember, I’ll beat them up for you.” 

Taehyung swats at his arm. “You’re gonna hurt him more idiot, let go.”

He does so instantly, wide eyes glued to the tacky blood that’s transferred to his hand. 

Yoongi chuckles. “If you’re gonna beat them up, my money’s on her winning.” He grins and something about it makes him look cocky and cocky is an oddly good look on him right now and you almost missed what he says completely.

They all look at him, varying degrees of confusion on their faces. “Her?” Namjoon presses.

Yoongi nods and gestures towards you, smirk still in place. “Yeah, she’s the one who did this to me.”

The three youngest look at you warily, Jungkook looks a little like he wants to take back what he said about beating up whoever did that to Yoongi. Namjoon’s eyes narrow, he’s too smart sometimes. “It’s makeup, isn’t it?”

You grin, giving a small shrug. “Guilty as charged.”

Hoseok appears at your side, puppy eyes in full effect. “That’s so mean to do to us. We were worried about him. You know he can’t fight.”

Yoongi protests with a weak hey, batting Jungkook’s hands away as he prods at the makeup with glee now that he knows it’s safe to touch. You feel like they misjudge Yoongi a little. Yoongi could definitely hold his own in a fight if he needed to. You remember very well watching him work with sets during your stagecraft class. You maybe almost ruined a few things by getting distracted watching him work. It’s definitely where your crush began, you’ve always been a sucker for watching a guy work up a sweat. 

You smile and pull Hoseok into a hug. “I’m sorry, Hobi. I needed practice and it seemed like a waste that no one else got to see it.”

Hoseok’s arm wraps around your neck as he quickly turns your hug into a headlock, rubbing your head as you squirm. “Hobi, stop!” you giggle, prying ineffectually at his arm. “I give! I give! I’m sorry!” 

Hoseok gives one last rub before releasing you, smug smile in place as you pout at him and attempt to fix the mess he’s created of your hair, not that it matters. The boys have seen you after all nighters and hungover, mussed hair is nothing in comparison. 

Jin finally pushes himself off the doorway with a clap to grab everyone’s attention. “Right, now that that’s over with, are we ready to celebrate this project?”

Your days quickly grow busy, full of planning meetings and brainstorming sessions. You have little time to practice between classes, the meetings, and research. Although some of the research devolves into group binges of various zombie movies, all of you claiming it’s in the name of preparing for your various upcoming roles. But you know part of it is because you're all getting too busy to hang out as a group and if you can at least claim to be researching for the shoot as well. Hoseok hates the binges the most, he’s never been great with horror but the others have fun with it, picking the movie apart by the different aspects that they’re interested in. You get too wrapped up in inspecting the makeup that you don’t even really realize what most of the plots are or what the others do. 

Yoongi offers to watch them all again with you, all in the name of research of course. He does it a couple of times, sacrificing sleep and time to work on other projects to stay up late watching zombie movies on your’s or his couch. He even points out ideas for you and pauses the movie when you start talking about a technique on screen, watching you with a fond smile.

Now you finally have some free time and you’ve been thinking about what you want to practice all week, all the ideas and plans you’ve created after your film viewings. You’ve just got the difficult task of finding out which boy is free and you luck out and find Jin and Hoseok together. Jin groans the second you enter the apartment and he catches sight of your case. 

“I’m too pretty to be a zombie,” he whines. 

You roll your eyes. You’d normally fight him on it, but with Hoseok here too, you decide to let it slide this once. “That’s fine. I can practice your makeup for the film and see how it will look with a zombie.” You turn to Hoseok with pleading eyes. “As long as I have a zombie.”

Hoseok looks like he wants to protest, glancing at the books in front of him, but he gives in with a sigh rather quickly. “Yeah, I suppose I could use a break.” 

You give a small cheer. “Thank you! Dinner’s on me then.” You look over the two of them before deciding to give them the choice. “Who wants to go first?”

Jin jumps up. “Me, if I read anything else about camera techniques I think my brain might melt.”

He quickly settles into the chair, letting you get to work. His makeup is simple, you do much of what you practiced on Yoongi with a few modifications you’d decided on while doing research during the week. Jin and Hoseok chatter with each other while you work, you occasionally add things to the conversation when you happen to catch what’s being talked about, but much of your focus is on your work. 

Once finished, you look him over before nodding happily. You pull your phone out to get a few solo shots, something he takes great joy in making difficult for you by posing in over exaggerated ways. You finally shoo him away and Hoseok replaces him and you purse your lips, tugging at his shirt. 

“Lose this. I need your neck.”

Hoseok raises an eyebrow, tugging his shirt off. “If you wanted me naked so badly, Y/n, you could’ve just asked. I’m sure we can ask Jin to give us some time alone.” He winks.

You snort, about to respond that you just don’t want to hear him complain about his shirt being ruined but before you can say anything Jin’s answering. “She doesn’t care about you being shirtless. There’s only one of us she would care to have shirtless in front of her.”

Your cheeks heat and you glare at Jin. You never should’ve gone drinking with him and you should’ve known he was doing it just to pry information out of you. Wanted his makeup to look authentic for the audition, my ass. “Shut the fuck up, asshole.”

Hoseok perks up, looking at Jin. “She likes someone? One of us? Who?”

“No one.” You cut in, tugging his chin back so he’s facing you and quickly starting your work on his face. It’s incredibly hard to work around the shiteating grin on Hoseok’s face. You maybe blend some spots a little harder than necessary if the way Hoseok occasionally winces is anything to go by. 

“Oh, she does. She told me herself. Rambled on about how nice he smells and how he takes care of her. Waxed poetic about how she wishes she got to see him shirtless more often because she just knows that he looks good shirtless.” He waggles his eyebrows.

You point the brush in your hand menacingly at Jin, you wonder if anyone would believe it was justified. “If you don’t shut up, you won’t have to wear makeup for the shoot.”

Jin looks at the brush, completely nonplussed. “You wouldn’t dare when I live in such close proximity to a certain someone.” He singsongs. “And gosh, I just say such crazy things when I’m studying and sleep deprived, ya know?”

Your eyes widen, heart in your throat. Hoseok looks confused for a moment before you see the lightbulb go off and he grins too. “You like Yoo-”

You slap your hand over his mouth. This is so not happening right now, this is just a bad dream. Fueled by far too many zombie movies this week. You’ll wake up and be in your own bed and Jin and Hoseok won’t be teasing you about liking Yoongi. “Shut up, I don’t like anyone.” You hiss. 

You feel his grin so you squeeze his cheeks, shaking him just slightly. “Say it. Say, ‘you don’t like anyone’.”

He’s about to respond and you can just tell by the glint in his eye that he’s not going to repeat what you told him to say, but the sound of the door opening takes everyone’s attention and you look up, blinking owlishly when you see Yoongi enter. He quirks an eyebrow when he sees you squeezing Hoseok’s cheeks and you quickly jerk your hand away. You’d really like to disappear now. It would’ve been bad enough to be here with Jin when Yoongi got home and now he’s got backup with Hoseok. You’re going to die of embarrassment by the end of the night, you just know it.

You quickly busy yourself with getting back to work on Hoseok, absolutely ignoring the delight in his eyes at Yoongi’s sudden appearance. 

“Hey Yoongi, what’re you doing home already?” He calls and you wonder if anyone would believe you if you said the brush just slipped and poked him in the eye. It’s happened before. 

Yoongi wonders over to the three of you, inspecting your work on Hoseok so far. “Apparently studying at the coffee shop was code for date? And I didn’t know that?” He says offhandedly. 

You feel your heart stop. “You went on a date?” You blurt out before you can think better. That was supposed to just be a thought, you didn’t mean to say it out loud. You wish you could take the words back, especially when you see the way Jin’s eyes light up at your slip. 

Yoongi nods, turning to look over Jin’s makeup next. He still looks like this conversation isn’t that important to him. “Yeah, Seulgi asked if I wanted to study for our class together at the coffee shop. Apparently I missed the memo that said it was actually a date.”

You swallow, studiously staying focused on Hoseok, tilting his head slightly so you can begin to create a bite mark on his neck. You don’t want to hear anymore of this conversation, you’re already really close to crying. Yoongi says something about needing to shower and meanders away. Hoseok must notice the glassiness of your eyes because he reaches out to give your thigh a reassuring squeeze. You give him a pained smile and continue to work. 

Jin’s about to say something but you shake your head. “Don’t. Please.”

He remains quiet, letting you finish Hoseok’s makeup in silence. You’re incredibly grateful. For all that Jin can be a little shit, he still does care about his friends. You finish quickly, getting some solo shots and then getting some reference photos of the two of them together. They take great joy in being over the top once you get the base photos you need, posing and acting out silly scenes in full makeup. You snap pictures the whole time, you don’t need them for reference but they do manage to bring a smile back to your face and make you momentarily forget about Yoongi and his date. 

You scroll through the photos, checking them out when you gesture towards the bathroom. “You guys can go wash up and we can go grab something to eat.”

You don’t see the devious grin Jin sends Hoseok. “Hmm, I don’t feel like going out. Let’s just order something. I’ll see if Yoongi wants anything.” You can only watch in horror as Jin calls for Yoongi down the hall. Yoongi reenters, hair still wet and looking cozy in sweats and a tshirt. “Y/n’s buying dinner. You hungry?”

Yoongi glances at you and you busy yourself with cleaning up. “Sure, I’ll always eat if it’s free.” He grins. 

“Freeloader.” You grumble, turning to him with your hands on your hips. “You didn’t even do anything.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow challengingly. He looks from Jin to Hoseok and grins, then he tugs his shirt off and nudges Hoseok out of the seat to sit himself in front of you. His grin turns smug. “There, you can do some more practice.”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times, but you’re at a complete loss for words. Your gaze flits over his bare chest before quickly darting away, Jin’s words from earlier coming back to haunt you, only this time with Yoongi’s actual bare chest. You’ve still got nothing to say and you can hear Hoseok and Jin snickering over your dilemma. It’s not like you can tell him no, he’d only get suspicious. Yoongi knows you never turn down a chance to practice, especially if you have something as big as a film shoot coming up.

You take a deep breath, you can do this. You can totally be professional. You’ve worked on a bunch of shirtless people. You’ve worked on Jimin and Jungkook. This is nothing. It’s just Yoongi. You straighten and roll your eyes at him. “Any other time I want to practice and you’re too busy.”

He beams at you, clearly thrilled that he’s won. “Yeah, but you’re buying dinner so...” He shrugs nonchalantly. 

You stick your tongue out him and turn back to your makeup case, pulling your tools back out. You start your work, gently tilting Yoongi’s head so you can create a bite mark on his shoulder. His skin is soft and the smell of his body wash is overwhelming this close. 

Just as you’re applying the base outline in latex, Jin speaks up. “How’d the date go, Yoongs?”

You jerk to glare at Jin, inadvertently dripping latex down Yoongi’s chest. You blink as it begins to slowly make its way down his chest, glancing up to see Yoongi giving you a worried look. You ignore him, turning back to the mess you made, forcing yourself into work mode and thinking about how you’re going to fix this mess because all you can do is try to fix it to make it seem like you did it on purpose. The only thing you can think to make this work without ripping all the latex off is to turn the bite into a bite that ripped skin off too. With a loose plan in mind, you begin adding more latex to his chest, creating a rough outline for the torn flesh, different scenes from zombie movies flitting through your mind as you use their looks as guidance.

Yoongi surprises you by actually responding to Jin once he decides you’re okay and have begun working again. “It was awkward as fuck because I didn’t know it was a date. I mean, who asks someone on a date under the guise of studying?” he snorts though he’s clearly not amused by the situation. 

“A lot of people, Yoongi. A lot,” Jin laughs. “That’s like, the primary way people ask others out if they share a class. It’s all, hey let’s go study and then no studying happens.”

You can see the way Yoongi wants to move in response, the muscles under your fingers twitching and you appreciate that he is at least still restrained physically even if his mouth continues to run. “That’s dumb. I just wanted to study.”

Jin makes a noise of surprise. “What do you mean?”

Yoongi shifts and you sneak a peek at his face, noting the way his cheeks are beginning to turn red. “I just… Well I mean- Look, she’s just not someone I’m interested in that way.” He eventually stutters out, his eyes shifting to you before quickly jerking away to stare at the wall behind you.

You can hear the smugness in Hoseok’s voice when he speaks. “Oh?” he asks, full of faux curiosity. “And just who are you interested in? Do we know her?”

Yoongi splutters. “I- What? I- I’m not interested in anyone right now.” No one seems to believe him, even as much as you don’t want it to be true, that’s the weakest denial you’ve ever heard from him. You are a little curious to who caught his interest. He’s had girlfriends in the time you’ve known him, but you’ve never been able to pin down what they had in common to catch his interest. “Look I’m too busy anyway. I’ve got my classes and now the soundtrack for this to work on. I don’t have time for that.”

You stand up, effectively blocking his view of the others. “You got the soundtrack job?” you ask incredulously. Why hadn’t he told you?

Yoongi smiles sheepishly at you, clearly knowing this was coming. “I found out yesterday. I was actually going to probably come by your place and tell you tonight, but you ended up being here anyway. Surprise?”

You pinch his cheek, you knew he’d be asked to work on the soundtrack.. “That’s so awesome! I knew you’d get it!” You beam, you resist the urge to hug him and ruin the work you’ve done so far. You make sure to get him extra to celebrate later and lean back down to get back to work, adding offhandedly. “You know, if you’d just said that beforehand, I would’ve offered to get you dinner without the need to let me practice on you.”

Yoongi whines. “Not fair.”

You finish the rest of Yoongi’s makeup in relative peace. Jin spends half the time trying to pester Yoongi into spilling who he’s interested in and the other part looking through take out places, loudly sharing his opinion on what sounds best, his obvious attempt to get you to order from where he wants. Yoongi resolutely ignores Jin, keeping quiet and still while you work. Hoseok moved back to work on some of his homework, patiently waiting for you to finish so you could get new pictures of them all together, though you do sneak a picture of him while he’s working but the image of a zombie doing homework shirtless is too funny to pass up. 

You put a few last details on and look him over. Frowning, you poke at his unmarred pec. “Have you been working out?” His pec looks fuller than it used to, it would also explain why his shirts have been so stretched across his chest lately.

Yoongi flushes, hands coming up to cover his chest in a bid for modesty, as if you hadn’t just spent 45 minutes staring rather intently at it. “So what if I have? What’s wrong with that? Jungkook works out and I don’t hear you giving him a hard time.”

You blink at the outburst for a moment before doubling over with laughter. That certainly wasn’t the response you were expecting, you were mostly just expecting a yes or no. “Oh my god. Do you even listen? We all lovingly tease Jungkook about his muscles.” You wipe away a tear as you straighten back up. “I literally call him my muscle bunny. No one should be that buff and adorable at the same time.”

“Been working out for someone special Yoongs?” Jin teases and you very much don’t like where this is going. “Someone who has perhaps mentioned that they like guys with some firm pecs?”

You both glare at Jin. You know he’s teasing you for what you said while drunk. You assume he’s also still trying to get Yoongi to spill who he likes. You wonder if she also works out at the gym Yoongi goes to and that’s the reason for his newfound interest in working out. You tug your phone back out swiftly, needing the distraction from that train of thought. “Right so pictures.”

You’re incredibly pleased with how Yoongi’s makeup turned out despite the slightly rocky start and almost disaster. There’s definitely still some parts that you need to practice a little more and places to improve, but for essentially having to wing it, it looks really good.

You get new pictures, where they once again pose for goofy ones, forcing a very reluctant Yoongi to participate though once he sees your delighted smile in response to the silliness, he quickly acquiesced to silly pictures. You wait for Jin and Hoseok to go wash their makeup off, tugging on Yoongi’s arm to keep him from following. He looks at you questioningly. 

You give his arm a squeeze, momentarily distracted by the way his muscle flexes at your touch. You shake your head slightly and smile at him. “I’m really proud of you for getting the soundtrack.”

Yoongi smiles back, face soft. “Thanks. I really was gonna tell you today.”

You nod. “I know. I’m always the first to know.” You nudge him towards the bathroom. “Go clean up, I’m ordering for your favorite place.”

Yoongi’s face lights up and giving your hand a squeeze, he hurries off down the hall to clean the makeup off. 

You practice as much as you can over the next week, using the pictures you take as reference and taking them to meetings to decide what’s good and what needs changed. Jungkook takes particular joy in having you do gore pieces on him now so that he can go scare the others, primarily Jimin because Jimin never fails to get scared. He tried only one time with Yoongi and Yoongi almost punched him in the face out of instinct so he steers clear of him if he happens to be in makeup. 

You open the door to Yoongi and Jin’s apartment, calling out an absent minded ‘hi’ like this is your own apartment and you set your makeup case down before collapsing on the couch. Yoongi appears a moment later from his room, eyebrow raised when he sees you sprawled out. 

“Last time I checked, you don’t live here.”

You wave him off dismissively, you’re too tired to do more. “Your’s was closer. Be nice to me.” You pout. 

Yoongi eyes you over, noticing your case nearby. “More practice?” He pushes your legs out of the way so he can sit.

You shake your head and stretch, throwing your legs across his lap, a pleased grin forming when he lets you. “No, I was helping Joy with a project. Was bigger than planned. Like I said, you were closer.” You shift to stretch again, muscles aching.

Yoongi grabs your ankle to stop your wiggling. “You’re a menace.”

You look him over thoughtfully. “Hm, you don’t seem to particularly care that I’m here. So clearly you don’t really think that. Besides, if any of us are the menace, it’s Jungkook. He’s been a terror this week. I’ve created a monster.” You gasp and sit up, hand against your forehead dramatically. “I’m Frankenstein. How shall I live knowing what I’ve done? Oh the angst, the guilt. Will Jimin survive my creation?”

Yoongi snorts, shoving you back down and you dissolve into giggles. “You should’ve been an actor. I’m pretty sure you could give Jin a run for his money.”

“I’ll take that as a complement. But really, if Jungkook wasn’t doing camera work for the film, he should’ve tried out for one of the zombie roles. He would’ve done great.”

Yoongi nods in agreement. “He would’ve. But I think he would’ve had too much fun climbing all over Jin for the sake of ‘being in character’.” 

You hum, closing your eyes. You’re hungry, not having had time to eat while working. You wonder if Yoongi’s eaten yet. If he was in his room then he most likely was working so he probably hasn’t and you wonder how you can get him to buy you dinner. It probably wouldn’t be too difficult, you’re pretty sure you bought last time it was just the two of you.

He gives your ankle a squeeze to get your attention and you peek an eye open to look at him. “You eaten yet?” 

 “No?” You squint at him, suspicious, but you delight in the fact that he could practically read your mind. Or maybe he just heard your stomach.

He nods, ignoring your suspicious gaze. “Cool, I’ll order us something.” He tugs his phone out to presumably order food without even waiting for a response. 

You nudge him with your foot. “You never offer to buy food. I have to pester you usually.” 

Yoongi shrugs and sets his phone down, grinning at you. “If you’d like I can just eat all of the food in front of you instead.”

You sit up quickly, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, cheek squished against his shoulder. “Noo, I’m sorry, don’t do that. Thank you for feeding me Yoongi.”

He chuckles, patting your arm where it's nearly strangling him. “Down girl, it’s just dinner.”

You wink at him. “I usually have to dress up and try a lot harder to get someone to buy me dinner.”

Yoongi flushes, slipping out from under your legs to quickly go to the kitchen. “Do you wanna drink? I think I need a drink.”

You tilt your head as you watch him go. Not that it’s particularly odd for you both to drink when you hang out, but his reaction seemed a little out of place. Maybe the score is giving him trouble, he usually will get a drink if music is being difficult. You hope it’s not from the girl he likes. Ever since Jin brought up her existence, it’s been on your mind, wondering what Yoongi’s type was. Briefly wondering what made you not his type. You’re very glad you’ve been so busy that you haven’t had a lot of time to obsess over those thoughts this week. “What do you have?”

Yoongi looks through the cabinets and fridge. “We have a bottle of cheap wine leftover from I think our last wine night. A bottle of nice wine, that I think is Jin’s and he’d probably kill us if we drink it. Aaand some spiced rum.”

“No Jin would kill you if you drink it. He likes me too much to kill me.” Yoongi gives you a look and you just grin back. He knows you’re right, though it’s not that Jin likes you more, you just have dirt on him. The one downside to his plan to get you drunk and ply you for information was that it also left him vulnerable to you getting your own information. “Rum is fine.”

Yoongi busies himself making you both drinks, coming back and handing you yours. You take a sip, coughing at the surprising burn of alcohol.

You raise an eyebrow as you look at him. “Tryin to get me drunk, Yoongs?” you tease.

He flushes, avoiding your eyes and taking a long sip of his drink. “Just made drinks, everyone’s gotta be a critic.” He grumbles.

You reply is interrupted by a knock on the door and Yoongi shoots to his feet to go answer. You take another drink, much more careful now that you know how strong it is, waiting for Yoongi to return with the food. He lays everything out on the table and it takes you a second to register he ordered from your favorite restaurant. You feel giddy, you haven’t gotten to eat here in a while because most of the others don’t care to go there, you usually have to order it on nights when you’re alone. 

“You hate this place!” You look at him with wide eyes. 

“No I don’t. It’s a good place.” You frown. There’s more to that you can tell, but Yoongi looks like he’s about to run away so you just let it go. You don’t know what’s caused the sudden shift. Although you suppose Yoongi has never explicitly stated that he hated the place, he’s just never spoken up in favor of it when your friends are gathered together and trying to find a place to eat.

You nudge him until he looks at you and you give him a shy smile. “You’re the best. Thank you.” You really don’t know what you’d do without Yoongi in your life. 

Yoongi puts something on TV for you both to watch and you eat in relative silence, only making occasional comments on the show. This is what you love most about spending time with Yoongi. It’s easy, the silence between you doesn’t need to be filled. The two of you content to just enjoy each other’s presence. 

Yoongi refills your drinks when they run out and you feel the pleasant buzz spreading through you. Yoongi sprawls out on the floor after he finishes his second glass, a good sign of his tipsiness. You stretch out on the couch on your belly, chin propped on the edge to look down at Yoongi. You poke his stomach and he squirms, batting at your hands when it turns from a poke to tickling. 

He rolls over, away from you and catches sight of your case. Leaning up on his elbows, he drags it closer and opens it. He looks through it, pulling different things out to inspect before putting them back. He glances at you. 

“You should do my makeup.” He decides.

You snort. “No I shouldn’t. It wouldn’t look good.”

Yoongi turns onto his side, head propped up on his hand as he looks you over thoughtfully. “Nothing you do could ever look bad.” He muses and it seems almost like it’s more to himself rather than to you. His eyes alight with mischief and he rests his free hand on his pec. “Ah, I get it. You are just scared to get so close to such perfect pecs again? You’re just intimidated by them. I mean, I understand, how can you work with perfection?”

You blink at him and burst into giggles, you love drunk Yoongi. “Oh, yeah. You caught me. I’m just trying to protect myself from that. I would never survive, I may just faint.” 

Yoongi nods, looking like he isn’t fully catching your sarcasm. Although it isn’t completely sarcastic because you don’t think it would be wise to be near his pecs when you’ve been drinking. “It’s okay, I understand.” He tugs his shirt off, flopping back onto his back once again. “Come on, do it. I bet you can’t do something amazing.” He challenges.

And against your better judgement, you rise to his bait. Him lying pliant and shirtless on floor and taunting you is too strong for you to resist. You climb off the couch, settling next to him and pull your makeup closer. You don’t even know what kind of makeup to do. Your case is a mixed mess right now because you had to clean some of your zombie supplies out for things for Joy’s shoot. You think you have enough supplies to do some minor wounds and decide that you can just take the opportunity to practice and maybe use the opportunity to work mostly on his chest and stomach. You just hope you don’t get too distracted while working, you know he’d be insufferably smug about it. 

Plan in mind, you begin working, but you don’t get very far in your work before Yoongi starts squirming. You huff, you should’ve known this was a bad idea, Yoongi always grows restless when he’s been drinking unless he’s cuddled up to someone.

You poke him. “Stop moving.”

Yoongi makes a face at you, he looks like a disgruntled toddler. “I’m not.”

You roll your eyes, but get back to work, chalking it up to him just needing to get comfortable. A few minutes later though and he’s shifting again. You give him a warning look and when he moves again you huff in frustration and throw your leg over his waist so you’re now straddling him, effectively holding him still. He blinks up at you with wide eyes for a moment before they darken. 

You grin victoriously as he attempts to buck you off. You lose your balance slightly, hand shooting out to rest on his chest to maintain your balance and you giggle when he tries to buck you off again but your grip keeps you upright. He pouts beneath you and you’re about to taunt him further but you’re stopped by the sound of the front door opening. You sit up straight, craning your neck to try and see who’s entered. A moment later, your question is answered when Jin appears, looking just as surprised to see you as you are to see him. 

Yoongi chooses that moment to try to buck you off again and your hand tightens as you try to maintain your balance. Jin’s brows furrow in confusion and he makes his way around the couch. The second he sees Yoongi beneath you, he’s turning his back on you both with a noise of disgust. 

“Yoongi, what the fuck! I thought we agreed a long time ago that there would be no fucking in the living room!” he yells, arms flailing as he speaks. 

Your cheeks heat and you quickly look down, realizing what a compromising position you’re in and how it must’ve looked to Jin. You violently shove yourself off Yoongi’s lap, back hitting the edge of the coffee table and causing you to wince. 

“We weren’t doing anything,” you protest. 

You know Jin is rolling his eyes, not believing you one bit. “Oh please. I know what I saw.”

“I was just practicing some makeup! Yoongi wouldn’t stop squirming. I was just trying to get him to sit still so I could work.” Your defense sounds weak even to your own ears.

Jin pauses and seems to debate something before hesitantly turning to look at you over his shoulder. His gaze goes from you to Yoongi and the half finished work on his chest to your makeup case and then he throws his head back with a groan. He stomps off to his room, muttering something about not being able to deal with both of your oblivious asses.

You frown, watching him go, perplexed by his words. What were you being oblivious about? 

Yoongi taps you to get your attention and you turn back to see his smug grin. He glances pointedly to his chest where when you look, you see that you’ve accidentally smeared purple across his pec when you’d pushed yourself off of him. 

“That’s not fair! That doesn’t count because that has extenuating circumstances.” You pout. 

Yoongi just shakes his head, clearly deciding that this means he has won his little challenge. Not wanting to go down easy, you turn to your case, looking for one of the glitter creams you’d put in there for Joy’s shoot and before Yoongi can react, you smear it across his other pec. 

You laugh in glee as Yoongi belatedly tries to move away and fails. You manage to dart your hand out, smearing more glitter across his cheek. He glares at you before tackling you and wrestling the bottle from your hand. He grins down at you in victory from his perch atop your thighs and he quickly dips a finger into the bottle, swiping it across your cheek. You try to fight him off, but it only succeeds in smearing more glitter on both of you. 

You’re both breathless from laughter and the room slowly settles around you as you grin at each other. The glitter on Yoongi’s cheek matches the way his eyes shine and you stare at each other, the moment charged, tension thick. You wonder what he’s thinking and almost in answer, his gaze drops to your lips. Then there’s a bang from somewhere else in the apartment and Yoongi twitches, breaking the trance you both were in. He blinks a few times then slowly slides off of you, replacing the cap on the bottle. 

“It’s late,” he murmurs. 

You nod but remain on the floor. “Bring me my pillow please?” You jut your bottom lip out, hoping to convince him. You don’t want to move but you also don’t want to be uncomfortable. 

He rolls his eyes. “Just come sleep in the bed, stupid. It’s not the first time.”

You chew your lip for a moment, you don’t know how to say that this time feels like it’ll be different. So you don’t say anything, letting yourself be pulled to your feet and following Yoongi to his room. He digs some of your sleep clothes out of a drawer and sets them on the bed beside where you’re sat. He leaves and comes back a moment later with some makeup wipes and a damp cloth, gently wiping you clean of makeup. 

You’re stunned into silence, watching him as he works to clean you and you idly wonder if this is what it’s like when you’re doing his makeup. It feels scarily intimate and you don’t know if it’s just this moment or if this is how he always feels, that scares you more. You’re always so focused on your work, you’ve never noticed. He’s close enough that it wouldn’t take much to lean up to kiss. 

Your heart is in your throat, you could do it. If it went bad, you could always blame the alcohol, but you're positive that he was about to earlier too. You’re snapped out of it by Yoongi straightening back up, giving you a soft smile. 

“I’m going to clean up. I’ll be back.”

You feel startlingly sober after he leaves, changing your clothes mechanically. Once changed you slip into his bed, on your side, and try to think about how you’ve done this enough times that you actually have a side on his bed. But you and the guys all share beds often. This is not any different from those times. Except, it does feel different. You feign sleep when Yoongi re-enters and he moves around quietly to not wake you. He brushes a few strands of hair from your face and presses a kiss to your forehead before turning to go to sleep.

You try to keep from being awkward around Yoongi, the memory of his lips against your skin haunts you, but given the circumstances, you think you mostly manage to be mostly normal. At least normal enough that when you beg him to come to your studio to test the bite prosthetic that you’ve been trying to perfect, he agrees to it easily. 

But that seems to be the easiest part. Now, with Yoongi in your campus studio alone, no chance of interruptions, the tension is thick in the air. You know you probably need to talk about the other night, there’s no way Yoongi didn’t feel the shift, doesn’t still feel it as your hands move across his chest, neck, his waist. But you both remain silent. You’re reminded of when Yoongi was washing the makeup off of you and how that closeness felt to you and you wonder if he feels that now. You sneak a glance at his face, but it gives nothing away, face relaxed and eyes closed as you work, if you didn’t know him better, you’d think he’d fallen asleep.

You shake yourself out of it, if his eyes are closed, clearly it’s not the same as it was for you. You ignore the sting you feel in your chest at the thought and continue working.  

Your hands lightly trace Yoongi’s side as you draw away, scrutinizing his torso. Looking for any last details to tweak or improve. The wound between his ribs and the bite marks, actually more of a chunk ripped out of his side and a bite mark on his neck, look good. Coloring right, depth good, his face looks sunken in the right places, he’s paler than usual, it’s all just missing one thing. You walk to the work bench while he remains in the middle of the studio, eyes now open again with the absence of your hands on him. Looking through the various bottles of red lining the wall, you finally select one, a little runny but the right shade to look like it’s been dried to his skin for a while. 

You pause when you get back to him, eyes flicking to his pants then back up to him. “Um, do you care about those pants?”

He glances down, seeming to not have known what jeans he was even wearing. He frowns. “Uh yes actually. These are my favorite.” You try to hide your disappointment, but Yoongi must catch it anyway, because he continues. “But I can just take them off so you can do the blood. Can’t properly test the makeup without all the makeup, right?” He winks and your heart swells that he’s so willing to do so much for you.

You chuckle and step back as he tries to carefully shed his jeans without ruining the makeup covering his chest and stomach. He doesn’t get very far, unable to bend over to push them down very far and too tight to have any hope to just kick off. You bite back a laugh and step forward. 

“I can help?” You offer hesitantly. It’s suddenly hitting you that Yoongi is about to be in front of you in just his boxers. 

He swallows, clears his throat, before giving a curt nod and looking away, his makeup hiding the ways his cheeks blaze with his thoughts. You kneel, setting the bottle of blood aside and reach up to grab his pants. You hesitate for a moment with your hands in front before moving to the much safer location at his sides, taking hold and gently pulling them down. You do your best to focus on the task and ignore the way his crotch is basically in your face and the fact that you're on your knees in front of him. Maybe you shouldn’t have knelt down to do this, giving the compromising position it’s put you in. You really should’ve thought this whole thing through before telling him to take his pants off. 

You instead focus on the ground as you work his pants off. Once off and tossed safely to the side you look back up to him, which turns out to be a mistake. Because on the way up, you don’t miss the unmistakable twitch of his dick in his boxers, but you do miss the way his dark eyes follow your movements, tongue darting out to lick his lips. Your eyes widen and you quickly busy yourself with grabbing the bottle and getting back to your feet all while studiously ignoring Yoongi and the way your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. 

He clears his throat. “Sorry.”

You want the ground to swallow you up. It’s worse that he’s acknowledging it, you both could’ve just pretended that his dick isn’t half hard and that you most definitely saw the outline of it. You shake your head. “It’s fine, really.”

You open the bottle of blood. You hope if you get to work that Yoongi will stop talking, won’t make this more awkward, give more tension to this situation. Yoongi goes silent as soon as the bottle is open, straightening his back and assuming his usual position and you’re grateful. 

You use a dropper to get blood into the wounds, watching the paths the blood tracks down Yoongi’s skin once it overflows, following unti the drops hit his boxers and seep into the fabric. You continue, adding extra splatters and drips, blooding up his face as well. Your eyes trace the tracks left across his body, it’s missing something but you can’t place your finger on what. You step back, tilt your head to the side as you study him. You look from the bottle back to him, hoping it will hit you, but nothing comes. 

After a few minutes, Yoongi moves, scratching lightly at the corner of his mouth and accidently smearing some of the blood there. He looks worried when he sees the red painting his finger tip. 

“I’m so sorry, it just tickled, I thought I was avoiding it.”

You’re not listening though because the smear on his mouth is the answer you’ve been searching for. The blood you’ve put on is too neat, it looks unnatural. No zombie is going to just stand there and no human being attacked would be so still. They’d fight and squirm and blood would smear. You shake your head quickly when he goes to apologize again and step forward, reaching out and smearing the blood around his mouth a little more, fingers lightly tracing his lips. You only give yourself a small moment to appreciate the feel of them. You work down his body, smearing areas that need it and adding more blood when it seems like somewhere isn’t bloody enough. 

Your fingers brush the hem of his boxers and you jerk your hand away, avoiding his eyes and trying to ignore the fact that he’s only gotten harder since you took his pants off. You step back quickly looking over your work again, not letting your gaze drop below his waist. It’s still missing something. You look at the bottle and your bloodied hand and look back at him, trying to piece out what you think is missing. You look at your hand again and get an idea. You pour a little more blood onto it, setting the bottle aside and stepping back to Yoongi. You look him over slowly, trying to figure out the best place for it and your eyes stop on the bite on his neck. 

You study the other side of his neck, looking starkly bare next to the gore of the bite and your place your hand gently on his neck, thumb brushing his chin. You can imagine the jerking movement that your placement would have actually been had you been going for his throat and your caress seems all the more strange, so gentle compared to the violence that your makeup appears, to the bloody print you’re leaving behind. 

You meet Yoongi’s gaze and are frozen by the heat in his eyes. Your fingers twitch against his skin but you can’t find it in yourself to pull away. You feel like you’ve been staring at Yoongi for an eternity, but it couldn’t have been more than a handful of moments, before there’s movement, you can’t really tell if it’s you or him who moves first. But then Yoongi’s lips are pressed to your own and you can now fully appreciate their softness. 

You can feel the blood smear around your own mouth, taste the bitterness on your lips when you grow bold enough to let your tongue dance along the seam of his lips until he opens up to you and the bitterness of the blood is quickly lost to a taste that is wholly Min Yoongi. 

Yoongi groans and pulls you flush against him and you can feel the blood seep into your clothes but you can’t really find it in you to care when he abandons your mouth in favor of trailing his lips across your jaw and down your throat to nip and suck at the skin there, marking you with set of bite marks. . 

You moan at the sharp sting, squirming against Yoongi’s hold. He growls, arm wrapping tighter around you as he quickly maneuvers you to the floor, situating himself between your legs to keep you pinned with his hips. You gasp when you feel his hard cock press against you. He makes a noise against your throat and grinds against you a few times. You tangle your hands in his hair, staining the blond strands pink and red and give him a gentle tug. He lifts his head at your urging, looking down at you with hazy, hungry eyes, eyes that are at odds with the makeup surrounding them. You heart stutters in your chest, for a moment it’s easy to forget that Yoongi is human, the makeup and hunger in his eyes make him look ready to absolutely devour you. 

Which he does when you pull him in for another kiss, muttering a ‘Yoongi please’ against his lips. He licks into your mouth and you feel wholly consumed by him. He gives you a squeeze before one hand is slipping between the two of you. His hips shift, cock pressing against your thigh so that his fingers can press at your clit through your panties and leggings. 

Yoongi groans and bites your bottom lip. “Fuck… You’re already so wet and we haven’t done anything.” He leans back, a teasing smirk in place. “Zombies and blood get you that hot?”

You glare at him, reaching down and into his boxers to wrap your hand around his dick. His mouth drops open and you grin in victory. 

“Like you have room to talk.” You begin to pump him slowly.

Yoongi grumbles and kisses you again to keep anymore smart remarks from coming out. He continues to rub you through your legging and you can feel your slick slowly soaking the fabric the more he presses against it. You whine, squirming against his fingers.

He shushes you. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll give you what you want.”

You huff, squeezing him tighter until he gasps. You smirk. “Then give it to me.”

He chuckles, giving you one last peck before he’s pulling away. “I should’ve known you’d be just as mouthy like this as you are any other time.” He sits back on his heels and grabs your leggings and tugs them and your panties off in one go, leaving your bottom half bare aside from the smears of blood. 

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, so you’ve thought about how I’d be like this?” You tease. 

He pauses and you’re about to question him when he’s diving back down to silence you with a kiss. Had he thought about you like this? His reluctance to give a straight answer makes it seem likely and that sends a thrill through you. 

He shoves his underwear down enough to get to his cock, brushing it along your folds. You gasp into the kiss, hands coming up to grab at his sides, one hand meeting the latex of the mark on his side. 

He presses in slowly and when he bottoms out he jerks himself away from the kiss to stare down in wonder at where you’re joined, like he can’t believe this is happening. You’re not entirely sure this isn’t just a very weird wet dream. After a moment too long of his inactivity, you whine and squirm again. His eyes snap up to you and the lust in his gaze makes your breath catch in your throat. Yoongi’s features are much sharper with the makeup, more intense. You never thought blood would be a thing, but Yoongi covered in it while towering over you is apparently a thing you are very into.  

His lips curl up devilishly and with the combination of makeup, he looks potently lethal right now, like he’s about to absolutely ruin you. You’d let him too. He draws out slowly, smirk still in place, until just the tip remains inside. Then he snaps his hips forward and you cry out. He starts a quick pace and your hands slide around to his back to dig your nails in. You vaguely think that you ripped some of the bite mark up, but Yoongi makes no indication that he felt anything. And you couldn’t care about ruining all your work when you’re doing your best just to hang onto your sanity as Yoongi’s cock drags against your walls in all the best ways. 

Yoongi buries his face in your neck, hand slipping between you both once again to rub at your clit. “Come on baby, cum for me. Fuck, cum on my cock, love.”

He punctuates his command with a nip to your neck and you shudder, orgasm swiftly rising. A few more circles of your clit has your back bowing as you cum, pussy convulsing around Yoongi’s cock. Yoongi’s pace stutters slightly from the sudden constriction but as soon as your orgasm begins to subside, he’s grabbing your hips and thrusting harshly into you to chase his own release. 

Tears gather in your eyes at the onslaught of overstimulation. “Yoongi… Fuck, please…” You don’t even know what you’re begging for. “Yoongi…”

He groans and kisses you messily as he gets a handful more thrusts before he’s cuming, flooding your pussy. Your gasp, shuddering at the warmth and his hips twitch at the sound. After a few moments of catching his breath, he carefully pulls out, flopping beside you and gathering you to his chest. 

You both lay there in silence. Your mind is blissfully quiet for a while, until Yoongi presses a kiss to the top of your head and suddenly everything feels like too much, ming in overdrive because what was this supposed to mean? You’d been so careful to keep your feelings hidden and you feel too exposed. You need to leave, you need space, you need to think. You jerk up, quickly looking for your leggings. Yoongi sits up slowly, he looks confused and in your rush to find your clothes, you miss the flash of hurt on his face as he watches you. 

“Sorry, I forgot we had a meeting for the film tonight. Everyone’s so busy this was the only time we could do it.” You babble out. You know you don’t sound particularly coherent, you can’t even properly stand.

You can’t find your underwear so you give up on them, you need to get out of here or you’re going to cry. You tug your leggings on, ignoring the cool tackiness of the crotch or the way they instantly get soaked further with your and Yoongi’s mixed releases. 

Yoongi looks like he wants to say something but remains silent as you gather your things. You pause at the door and chew your lip. You turn and give him a little wave, the best smile you can muster in place as you do. You know it’s not very good, but it’s the best you’ve got. 

“I’ll text you after. I’m so sorry I’ve gotta go.” You murmur as you slip out. 

Yoongi sits on the floor for a few moments after you leave, cement floor cold against his bare ass. Eventually, he pushes himself up and moves over to the sink to begin cleaning himself up. He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and pauses to observe just how much of your work was ruined. The bite mark on his side has been almost completely torn off, only hanging on in a few spots. The makeup and blood has been smeared into one big mess and he’s pretty sure most of it just rubbed off onto you. 

Yoongi sighs. You hadn’t even gotten a picture of all this work before it’d gotten ruined and there’s no hope of him getting any picture worth while. He continues his trip to the sink and cleans himself up, completely used to the sting of removing latex from his skin. The methodical cleaning lets his mind wander and he regrets that he let hormones get the best of him in this situation. He’d wanted to ask you out first, maybe a couple of dates before anything physical like this. He’s liked you for so long and this was his chance. He tries not to think of your rushing out as meaning anything other than what you said about your meeting. He’s had his share of strange meeting times. 

He finishes and dresses himself, taking it upon himself to clean up the supplies you’d left out in your haste to leave, a fond smile finding its way to his lips as he recounts the many times you’ve lamented your messy studio mates who leave supplies out. Once finished, he shuts the lights off and decides to head home.

He expects his house to be empty when he returns, it’s past midnight at this point and you had said there was a meeting for the film and if you had to go that meant that the actors would be there as well. But to his surprise, Jin is lounging on the couch, watching some drama on Netflix when he enters. 

He frowns. “Is the meeting over already?”

Jin gives him a questioning look. “Meeting?” Jin looks him over, takes in the pink skin from where the latex had sat. “Where were you?”

“I was helping Y/n with some final tweaks to the zombie makeup. That didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t know what meeting you’re talking about, Yoongi. There was no meeting tonight.” Jin catches the way Yoongi’s face crumples and sits up, gaze intent on Yoongi. “Why? Who said there was?”

Yoongi ignores him for a moment, goes to the sink to get a drink of water and Jin follows, waiting patiently for Yoongi’s response.

“Y/n said there was. She remembered after we-” He cuts himself off abruptly, cheeks turning crimson. 

Jin picks up on it, perking up. “After you...?” he presses. When Yoongi doesn’t immediately speak up, he continues. “Did you finally ask her out like we’ve been telling you to?!” Jin’s about to excitedly continue when Yoongi cuts him off with a soft ‘no’. His face falls. “What happened then?”

“We- “ Yoongi rubs his hands on his face then sighs. “We fucked. In her studio. It just… It’s been building up for so long. But I had such a good plan laid out to ask her out. But... “ He trails off and doesn’t finish.

“Oh, Yoongi.” Jin murmurs, pulling the other into a tight hug. “I promise you this will work out. She likes you too and I’m sure she’s just a little scared about what this means.” Yoongi sniffles and Jin hugs him tighter. “It’ll be okay, Yoongi. Promise.”

You’re incredibly grateful that shooting started the day after your night with Yoongi in your studio. Your thoughts have been a mess. That night seemed like the culmination of something, but when you tried to think of just what it meant, you found yourself terrified of what the answer may be. So you did the safest thing and ran. 

Jin tried to talk to you a little bit while filming, but he was still fairly easy to avoid with excuses of needing to touch up the zombies' makeup. You could see the sadness in his eyes and after the first two days he stopped trying to corner you and so you tentatively sought him out during break one day, talking about topics that stayed safely away from Yoongi. You assume Yoongi had told him at least something about that night, but you’re too terrified to ask what he knows. 

But now here you were, almost two weeks later and you’ve only seen Yoongi in group settings. It’s the longest you’ve gone without hanging out with just him in almost the whole time you’ve been friends. He looked tired, but when anyone else brought it up to him, he’d wave it off that he was just busy with the film soundtrack. His eyes linger on you and you know he wants to talk to you, but you don’t know if you can handle that just yet. But you resolve that after the film is over and you’ve had time to process, you’ll seek him out. You at least owe him that much.

The premiere is tonight, it’s relatively small, mostly people who worked on it and their friends, plus some other students from the campus who get first chance to see films that will get screened to the public later. Your friends all gathered with you in a row and you can see Yoongi at the other end of them. The film turns out as good as you knew it would and as the credits begin to roll, people begin to filter out. Jin tells you that they’ll meet you in the lobby, they know how much you love to sit through the credits and appreciate everyone who worked so hard to put out a film. 

You watch the names as they go by, overwhelming pride when you see your friends' names up there. Then it gets to the soundtrack and you bite your lip. Yoongi did most of the soundtrack, these are his babies and you read through each one and feel so much pride you might burst. 

The grin on your face falters a little when you see the last three titles and you jerk to your feet, hands gripping the seat in front of you tightly. They can’t be. But there in black and white, “midnight meeting”, “old friends”, and “so much more to give” scroll by you. They could just be titles, maybe Yoongi didn’t even name them. But you know Yoongi would never send a track out unnamed and he names everything with purpose. Everything he creates has meaning. And there’s only one thing those three together could mean. 

As the realization hits you, you gasp, hand covering your mouth and tears welling up in your eyes. This is his way of confessing because you’ve been avoiding him. He knows how you always stay behind to watch the credits. 

A chuckle sounds behind you and you startle, turning to see Yoongi still sitting in his seat down the row from you. “I’m glad I chose this way so that no one sees you cry at the end of a zombie movie. They might get the wrong idea,” he teases. 

“Yoongi…” you breathe. 

He nods towards the screen. “Good idea, huh? Can’t say many people get confessed to through movie credits during the soundtrack part.”

He pushes himself to his feet, moving closer to where you remain frozen, mind still not fully caught up. He looks nervous when he stops in front of you and you haven’t said anything yet. 

“I hope I didn’t read everything wrong?” He looks scared.

That snaps you out of your inaction, reaching forward to grab his cheeks and pull him in for a kiss. “Fuck, I love you, Yoongi.”

He grins into the kiss, arms wrapping around you. “I love you too,” he murmurs. 

Zombie movies might be your new favorite genre.

[prayedtoyou]

overrated - read it on ao3

<<  when you get home, will you help me with a project?

>>  sure thing. i have to stop by the gas station on my way back, want anything?

<<  yeah, grab me some of those chocolate covered raisins that i like

>>  you got it. see you in 15

Dean had plans to go home after his three classes of the day to watch Netflix with his hand in his pants and eat pepper jack Cheez-Its until his stomach hurt, but he supposes it wouldn’t hurt to cancel those plans to help out his roommate for a few hours. Dean doesn’t often interrupt plans with himself, especially on a day where he doesn’t have any homework and he doesn’t have to show up for a shift at the salvage yard, but Cas is someone Dean doesn’t mind giving up a  few luxuries for.

Dean met Cas in their Design 101 class during freshman year. It was nothing more than a foundation class, one that Dean and Cas had to take in pursuit of their BFA degrees in film and television, and photography, respectively. Dean expected to jack off to the course by flirting with the fellow classmates while still paying just enough attention to pass the class and turn in projects and assignments on time, but when Cas started sitting next to him in the third week of the semester and heckled him about listening to the professor and taking better notes, Dean really started to buckle down and take it a little more seriously.

They’ve been friends ever since. They had late night study sessions during their first year when they were only an elevator ride away from each other’s dorm rooms. Their first college summer was mostly spent at the Biggerson’s just off SCAD’s campus where Cas served tables; Dean would come in to bother him, drink coffee, and take advantage of the free WiFi. They found an apartment they could barely afford just south of the metro area and moved in a week before the new school year started. They still have that same apartment.

This was to Charlie’s disappointment, at first. She had suggested moving in together before Cas had and Dean had been on the fence about it. He loved Charlie, they got along, she understood his nerdy references, they had similar taste in women--but he had been holding out for another photography major to make his move. She quickly forgave him when she met and later moved in with her girlfriend, Dorothy.

There was just something about Cas that set him apart from Dean’s other friends. It might have to do with how passionate Cas was about his classes and major; since sixth grade, he’s known that he would grow up to be a photographer for National Geographic so he could travel the world and take pictures of all his favorite creatures. Or it might have to do with his sense of humor--a little dark and always just flirtatious enough to make Dean wonder just how serious he is and whether or not he should laugh or take him up on his offers.

More than likely, though, it has to do with how attractive he is, how his smile is so bright it puts the sun to shame, how his laugh makes Dean’s heart swell up like a helium balloon, how he’s intelligent and eloquent, but also absolutely clueless about a lot of stuff Dean considers to be required life knowledge. Does most of that knowledge revolve around Star Wars, Back to the Future, and Indiana Jones movie references? Yes, but that’s beside the point.

And that’s what led Dean to living with the guy for going on three years, to spending entire days dedicated to showing Cas his favorite movies and shows, to picking up dark chocolate Raisinets on his way home from school, to walking into their apartment and calling out Cas’s name just like Ricky Ricardo.

Cas shouts back from the opposite side of the apartment where their bedrooms are. Dean finds Cas in his room, furniture pushed away from one wall and replaced with Cas’s favorite reading chair from the living room (that old, forest-green armchair that Cas found at an antique store on the Savannah River that Dean verbally hated, but secretly used when Cas wasn’t around because it’s about the most comfortable thing in the world), and a camera set up on a tripod facing the chair. Cas is wearing that white button down that looks especially good against the tan he got over the summer, the one that matches Dean’s after they spent several long days on Tybee Island right before their senior year started.

“So, what’s the project?” Dean asks, handing over the box of Raisinets. He curses at himself for forgetting to get a snack of his own while he was out.

Cas takes the box with a smile. “Thanks, Dean. This one is based on touch and what emotions it brings out in us, but we can’t have more than one subject in the shot. So, I need you to put this on.” Cas reaches out and drops a small black object into Dean’s palm.

It’s… a tube of lipstick.

“Uh, Cas? I thought we’ve established that I’m not really much of a model.”

Cas rolls his eyes, no doubt remembering the arguments they had on the river walk during their second year when Cas tried to shoot Dean for an assignment that ended up with them deciding that Dean would stick with filming and Cas would recruit performing arts majors to be his models. “I know, I'm not taking pictures of you, you’re taking pictures of me. I already have the camera focused and everything, you just need to put that on, give me a few kisses, and snap some pictures.”

Dean’s brain short-circuits. “K-kisses?”

“Yeah. I’m using lipstick kisses to represent my past relationships and how I feel about them touching me. Just cheek and forehead kisses. We’re not going to be Frenching or anything.”

“Oh.” Dean looks down at the lipstick, caught somewhere between disappointment and relief, wondering if it would be better or worse if these kisses were meant for Cas’s lips instead of the rest of his face. Would it even be right of him to take Cas up on this offer when he already fantasizes about putting kisses all over Cas’s skin? Would it be wrong for their first kisses to be over some project? “I don’t know how I feel about this, Cas.”

“About what, kissing me? They’re not even real kisses, you just have to pucker up like you're kissing your mom.”

Dean chews on his lip. Would it be so bad to take advantage of the situation and indulge in something he’s wanted since their second semester together? Shouldn’t he be a good friend and roommate and help Cas with his project, no matter the requirements?

Cas must see the uncertainty in Dean’s expression because he continues with, “Come on, Dean, we’re graduating next semester, we’re practically professionals. Are you really going to be embarrassed about a little lipstick when you could be filming HBO sex scenes a year from now?”

Dean looks back up at Cas. If he’s going to insist, who is Dean to tell him no? “Alright, asshole, I’ll do it. But you owe me.”

Cas smiles wide and, damn, Dean would wear lipstick every day if it meant Cas would look at him like that. “Okay, there’s a mirror behind you. It doesn’t have to be perfect, just put some on and lay it on me.”

Dean turns to find Cas’s mirror hung up with his portfolio. Photos are hung, tacked, and taped up from vacations, day trips, school projects, and family holidays. Dean is up there a few times: laughing on the opposite side of the table from Cas at Biggerson’s, a selfie of the two of them under the unflattering flash of a smartphone in a dark movie theater, the only good shot Cas got of Dean that day on the river walk, Dean asleep on the couch with a book folded up in his arms like a teddy bear.

Dean didn’t even know Cas took that last one.

He puts on the lipstick, ignoring the photos of himself. It’s definitely not as easy as he thought it would be--staying inside the lines was something he’s improved upon since childhood, but crayons are a lot different from makeup. He manages to swipe the color onto his face, grimacing at the taste of it.

When he looks back at Cas, all he gets is a blank stare and a slight nod. Feeling less than confident with deep red lips, Dean steps up to the plate.

“Where do you want it?”

Dean can hear the click of Cas’s throat as he swallows. He raises a hand, pointing to the knob of his left cheekbone.

“Here.”

Dean steps just a little closer. Cas is about his height, maybe an inch shorter, but it’s not even noticeable when Dean tilts Cas’s face up with a finger and thumb gently pinching his chin. He leans in and--smells Cas’s shampoo, notices the pores on his nose, finds trimmed whiskers along his cheeks--presses his lips right where Cas wanted them.

With the lipstick, Dean can’t taste Cas’s skin, but he can smell the face wash where his nose is sticking into Cas’s temple. Like pomegranates.

When he pulls away, he knows he’s blushing, but he has no way of hiding it, so he just smiles and says, “That’s a good color for you.”

Cas, a little pink himself, scoffs. “Just take the picture, Taylor Swift.”

Cas takes his seat, Dean steps behind the camera. He clicks the shutter button a few times, watching Cas’s face on the screen. He’s leaning his face up and slightly away, lips parted, eyes cast toward the door instead of the lense. It’s a great angle to show off that jawline of his.

Dean was never destined to be a model, but Cas looks just as good in photos as he does in real life. He knows exactly how to position himself, which light to use, how his face should look. He could model, if he ever wanted. Dean asked him if he would star in a short film Dean had to film, but Cas just laughed and said if he wanted to act he would have gone into performing arts.

“That should be enough,” Cas notes, and Dean realizes that he had taken way too many photos while thinking about Cas’s face. He backs away from the camera. “I’ll need a fresh layer for each kiss, so apply some more lipstick.”

Dean does as he’s told and goes back to Cas to kiss him again. This time it’s just above Cas’s right eyebrow. They go on like this a handful more times, until Cas has lipstick stains across his entire face. Each time feels like the first, and Dean has a harder and harder time removing his lips from Cas’s skin as they progress through the photos. Cas doesn’t seem to be as phased--he sits right down and assumes his pose. In each and every picture, Cas mostly just looks sad.

“Why do you look like that?” Dean finally asks after the sixth kiss, snapping pictures.

Cas unfurrows his brow and looks up from the floor. “Like what?”

“Like your dog just died.”

Cas cracks a small smile. “These kisses represent each of my exes and how I felt about my relationships with them.”

“They were all that bad?”

“They certainly weren’t good. After being cheated on, left for someone else, and dumped over text, I don’t exactly have fond memories of most of these people.”

“I remember when that dickhead Balth slept with that web designer. You didn’t leave the house for a week.”

“You took me to the Atlanta Aquarium and pointed at all the ugliest fish and said they looked like him.”

“And I was right. ”

When Cas smiles broadly, Dean sneaks in another picture. The shutter of the lense gives him away, but Cas doesn’t mention it.

“Remember when I watched 500 Days of Summer eight times in two days?” Cas asks. “That’s because Hannah kept telling me she didn’t want a relationship and ended up leaving me for someone who she got engaged to after five months.”

Dean chuckles low under his breath. “Yeah, I remember. I had to force you into the shower and then we went out for burgers.”

“And when Gadreel drunk texted me all the things he hated about me--”

“We toilet papered his frat house and went to a baseball game the next day. We got so sunburnt.”

Cas laughs at the memory and Dean captures it with the camera. He looks so much better like this, happy and covered in kisses from someone who actually cares about him. He deserves to be this happy for the rest of his life.

Cas sobers up and looks at Dean. His expression is soft, something closer to adoration than anything else. Dean wonders if he’s just amused  by the makeup.

“You were always there for me, Dean.”

Since Dean can’t take a compliment to save his life, he shrugs it off. “I was just trying to be a good friend. You did the same for me when Lisa and I broke up.”

They go quiet for a moment. Dean reflects back on the two weeks after their break up. Dean was drinking daily, taking whiskey in a travel mug to his classes, going to bars at night, falling asleep on the couch with a bottle in his hands. It took Cas several tries to get him out of his rut, first by asking Dean what was wrong, then by requesting that he eat something solid, and finally by whacking him with his rolled up yoga mat until Dean cleaned himself up and changed into some fresh clothes.

Dean had grumbled about it for a few days, but it was just what he needed. He couldn’t mope around forever and fall into a pit of alcoholism just because his year-long girlfriend finally got fed up with his shit. Cas spent extra time with him that month, changing his schedule and cancelling plans to hang out or do homework in the same room as him, occasionally reaching out to lay a hand on Dean’s shoulder or knocking their feet together to remind him that he wasn’t alone. It helped tremendously.

The worst part wasn’t losing Lisa, it was coming to terms with everything he had been trying to deny since he was seventeen. His attraction to men was something he first noticed when a new kid came to his high school and he fell for the linebacker build and honey-sweet Cajun accent. But after dating women exclusively his whole life, the last thing he wanted was for Cas to feel like some sort of experiment.

“What happened? With Lisa. You never told me.”

Cas catches his eye, but Dean directs his gaze away quickly, suddenly finding the curves of the camera very interesting.

“I, um… I wasn’t very good to her. I was kind of using her to get past a crush I had on someone, but it didn’t go away and she said she couldn’t keep living like that. Like she was competing to be my girlfriend. I don’t blame her one bit, she was right to leave me. I just thought, if it was just a crush, it wouldn’t be a problem once I was with someone else, but when I couldn’t stop liking them…”

Dean chances a look at Cas, who looks just as sad as he had in those pictures. His eyes are wide and it almost looks comical with all the lipstick kisses on his face.

“I realized it was more than just some crush,” Dean finishes lamely.

Every part of him wants to tell Cas. But what would be the point? The two of them will graduate and Cas will become the next most famous National Geographic photographer and Dean will be looking for work as a camera holder on low budget movies and shows that may or may not be cancelled halfway through filming. He could always turn to porn as a last resort, but he'll never make it as far as Cas and he’ll never make it with Cas.

In the beginning, he didn’t want to ruin their relationship. They worked well together, whether it was study sessions or getting back at exes or picking out mismatching furniture at second-hand stores. He worried about losing his friend. Now he doesn’t want to say anything because he knows he’s going to lose Cas one way or another, and it will hurt less if they don’t get involved with each other any more than they already are.

Cas takes a deep breath, processing the information. He searches the room. His eyes land back on the camera.

“I have one more shot to get.”

Dean blinks. It’s what he expected. It wouldn’t matter if Dean subtly tried to imply how in love he is with Cas or if he bluntly told him, he would always get the cold shoulder. It’s for the best, he tries to convince himself. Any other way would just end in a bigger heartbreak than necessary.

He turns back to the mirror. He finds the photo of him and Cas in the movie theater again. He can’t remember what movie they saw, but their faces are nearly touching and Dean’s arm is around Cas and he wishes more than anything that he’d taken the chance to kiss him back then. Because, what’s the quote? ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Does it count when Dean is, technically, in love, but just hasn’t voiced it yet?

With a new coat of lipstick, he faces Cas again. He’s standing in the middle of the room, right next to the camera, ready for his last kiss. Dean musters up all his fake confidence and closes the distance between them, standing just a little closer than he had before.

“And this time?” Dean asks.

Cas looks hesitant. Maybe he’s finally realizing that he should have chosen someone else to kiss him over and over again. Someone who he wouldn’t have to awkwardly live with afterwards. Someone who wouldn’t have made a straightforward project into something uncomfortable.

His hand comes up to his face. He points a single finger to his bottom lip.

“Here.”

Dean’s breath catches in his throat. He hunts for any sort of lie in Cas’s eyes, any indication that he didn’t want it, that he wanted to take it back. But Cas just looks right back at him, waiting, patient.

Dean fits the corner of Cas’s jaw into the center of his palm, runs his thumb across Cas’s cheek. A lipstick kiss smears under the pad of his finger, wiping into nothing but a blur, just like the memory of whichever lover that one was meant to be.

When their lips meet, Dean forgets about every single reason he didn’t let himself have this before. Everything in his head melts away until there’s just Cas and mouth and hands and Cas and Cas and Cas.

Cas doesn’t hold back. He grips Dean’s waist like a life raft in the middle of the ocean, opens his mouth and moans when Dean slips his tongue in. He takes everything Dean gives him. He moves his head aside when Dean trails his mouth along his jaw and down his neck, kissing and sucking and nipping at the skin. Dean pulls him closer, desperate to feel as much of Cas as he possibly can.

Dean feels like he’s shaking, or maybe vibrating, with need. Everything is tilting, moving, wavering around him. The lights could blow and he wouldn't even notice, he’s too wrapped up, too confused about which way is left or right.

Their mouths come together again and the world straightens out on its axis. They slow down, brushing their lips together the way pages of a book slide against one another. They take their time. They learn the way they move with each other.

Eventually, they part. Not to gasp for breath, but to rest their foreheads together; to align their hearts. Between them, Dean can smell Cas’s toothpaste and taste the lipstick.

“We should do projects together more often,” Dean concludes humorlessly.

“I think we should skip the projects and just make out,” Cas counters.

Dean pulls back to laugh quietly at Cas, but then sees his face. Cas is covered in lipstick, all around his mouth, his chin, across his jaw, down his neck. The makeup follows the patterns of Dean’s kisses, right down to where he had sucked Cas’s earlobe into his mouth.

He lets loose, practically wheezing at the state of Cas’s face. Dean’s must look similar, because Cas erupts into laughter too and they both sink into each other, bodies convulsing in their arms.

“Come on, come on. One more picture,” Cas begs, pulling out of Dean’s grasp and positioning himself on the chair. He couldn't wipe that smile off his face if he tried, and it looks like he isn’t putting in any effort at all to push it away.

Dean presses the shutter button three times, hoping at least one of them is a good shot, before diving around the camera to pull Cas into his embrace again.

The lipstick ends up on chests, wrist, bed sheets, and hips, but they don’t mind. They might even keep the tube for another time.

tags below the cut!

@sweatercas | @queenvee08 | @fierydeans | | @scamp-00 | @cottondean | @hallowedbecastiel | @wanderingcas | Please let me know if you’d like to be added to/taken off the list!

[kidnappedbycartoons]

Past, Present, Future (Ava X MC)

Notes: Hello, it’s the Ava simp here. I decided to write another Ava X MC fic because I’m not waiting for MC to make a choice, so I made one for her. Enjoy and let me know if I did them justice.

Pairings: Black!MC (Serenity) X Black!Ava

Word Count: 1,956

“Nice pictures, Serenity.”

I looked up from the photographs I held in my hand to find Mackenzie leaning on the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest. A sense of pride filled my chest at her words. I finally found something that I enjoyed doing and everytime someone let me know that my photos were good, I couldn’t help the smile that crept onto my face.

“Thanks,” I went back to organizing my photos when Mackenzie spoke up again.

“Which ones are you going to put in your portfolio?” The bed dipped as she sat on it. “I mean, you have enough to fill an entire gallery.”

I chuckled at her exaggeration, but she did ask a good question.

“I don’t know, I don’t even know what theme I’m going for,” I dropped the pictures I was holding in my hand onto the bed, bringing my knee to my chest instead.

“Wouldn’t be the first time you didn’t know what to go for,” I threw my pillow at her, disappointed when she caught it.

She didn’t have to remind me of that. Working on the portfolio was the perfect distraction from my rollercoaster of a love life. But now, those three names popped into my head again. Mason, Ava, and Noah. Ava, Noah, and Mason. Noah, Mason, and Ava. Honestly, I was going to have a headache at this point. It’s about to be spring and I still can’t decide who I want to be with. And to make matters worse, I can see it on all of their faces. They’re all tired of me. I guess I would be too. I need to make a decision, but I just don’t know.

“Serenity!” I glanced up, coming face to face with a picture of Mason. “God, didn’t you hear me? I said this is a nice picture of Mason.”

I took the picture out of Mackenzie’s hands, eyes skimming over it. I remember when I took this picture. Mason and I had driven to the beach and he had looked so happy, so carefree, so much like the Mason I remember from childhood that I just had to capture that moment.

I’ve known Mason since we were kids. We were always attached at the hip, if you saw one, then you saw the other. Our families knew each other and we would always hang out at each other’s house. At the same time, I’ve been in love with Mason since we were kids. First love, I guess. He’s always been there to protect me, even from a fly. I never would’ve imagined that he felt the same way as well. I just wish it didn’t come out the way it did. It still stung whenever I remembered how Ava looked when Mason revealed he broke up with her to be with me. Yeah, Mason can do some stupid things sometimes, but I do too. I guess we’re just two peas in a pod.

“Wow, Noah doesn’t look too bad here,” Mackenzie held out the photo for me to take. Just a glance and I remembered when I took the picture. We had driven to the countryside and Noah had looked so free, so light, so handsome, that I just had to take a picture.

Noah was the one that shook everything up. I thought I knew what I wanted, but then he came along. Everyone told me to stay away from him, that he was dangerous, that he was a bad boy. But the more I got to know him, the more I realized those were all lies. Turns out, he’s one of the sweetest and kindest guys I’ve ever met. He’s always been so mature, so understanding, that I felt like I could just be myself around him. There were no expectations, no boundaries when it came to him. I was allowed to be myself, Serenity Price. Not that I didn’t feel that way with Mason, but sometimes I found myself thinking about our past so much that I guess I just stay there sometimes. I always heard the words that if you fell in love with two people, to always choose the second. Because if you really loved the first, you would’ve never fallen for the second one. Yet, I didn’t know what to do. Mason reminded me of the happy memories of the past and Noah was the one that helped me to live in the now.

“Now, if Ava doesn’t become a model in the future, I’m going to be upset,” Mackenzie held out the photo for me to take and I looked down at it. Yeah, I remember this day. We were laughing so hard in photography club and she looked so beautiful, so happy, so charismatic, I couldn’t stop myself from taking the picture.

If Noah shook everything up, Ava absolutely turned everything upside down. My whole life I thought I was into guys. I mean, I was into Mason after all. Even when we had first met I would’ve never thought that Ava was gay or that I might not be straight. But looking back, all the signs were there. The way my heart sped up whenever she would look my way, the disappointment whenever she missed school, the way I lingered too long with our hugs, the way I always made sure to see if she was laughing when I told a joke.

Funnily enough, that period when her and I weren’t talking to each other, was when I realized how much I missed her. Even though I was still talking with Mason and Noah, there was still an empty spot in my heart that only she could fill. Ava Lawrence. My best friend. The one who always stood up for me without a second thought, the one who always made sure to check on me, the one who always managed to make me laugh, and the one who always puts me first. I mean, she took herself out of this whole love square thing to help me out. Then again, maybe she didn’t want to wait around any longer. Regardless, she doesn’t hold it over my head. When I’m with her, I don’t even think about Mason or Noah. I can focus on her and her only. 

“Did you forget how to blink or something?” I was jolted out of my thoughts by Mackenzine, who had a teasing grin on her face.

“Shut up,” I placed the three photos down, taking one last look at them. Mason, Noah, and Ava. Mason is my past, my childhood best friend and first love. Noah is my now, the one who pulled me out of my shell and showed me a whole new world. But Ava. Ava was...Ava is...Ava’s....

“I have to go!” I didn’t even wait for Mackenzine to speak as I bolted down the stairs to the front door. I didn’t even hear my dad yelling as I ran past him. I needed to do something first.

________________________________________________________________

I stood in front of the door, my throat suddenly feeling tight and my hands sweating. But I had to do this. I needed to. Raising my fist, I knocked on the door. I needed to do this. I needed to.

She opened the door and I was left breathless. She was clearly getting ready to go to sleep, a bonnet on her head and her face now makeup free. Despite this, she still looked like a goddess that came to bless us with her existence. She always did.

“Serenity, what are you doing here?” She tilted her head, almost like a puppy as she looked me up and down. “In your pajamas?”

“It’s you.” I couldn’t stop myself if I wanted to, the words just fell out. “It’s you I want, Ava. Not Mason or Noah. It’s you. I always thought I was straight, I mean, I was in love with Mason for years. But it’s always been you. You’re the one. When I found out you and Mason were dating, I was heartbroken because I wanted him. I did. But at the same time, I knew you could do better. I knew you deserved better. And I didn’t know if it was because I wanted Mason for myself or if I wanted you for myself. I didn’t know!”

I took a deep breath and continued. “When we weren’t speaking, I hated it. I hated it so much! Even though I was hanging out with Mason and Noah, it wasn’t the same. My heart still didn’t feel complete. It was empty. Empty! I thought I was missing you as a friend, I really did. But then we made up and something still didn’t feel right. Everytime I was around you, my heart started going crazy. I wanted to hug you, to kiss you, to do all sorts of things with you. But you were with Chad and I knew you didn’t deserve me, I mean I was a mess with Mason and Noah. But then homecoming and then everything and...I thought...maybe we could. Maybe. But then Bayla came along.”

I looked down at my feet, my slippers looking back up at me. “I should’ve been happy for you. But I’m not. I’m not. My heart broke when I saw you and her together. And I knew I didn’t deserve to feel that way, considering how indecisive I’ve been and how selfish I’ve been. But I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not putting you first. I’m sorry for taking so long. I’m sorry for letting you slip through my fingers like this. But it’s you I want. And I know it’s too late. But it is. It’s you, Ava.”

I didn’t even realize I was crying till I felt Ava’s fingers wiping the tears away. The tightness in my throat, in my chest, was too much. I felt like I was going to explode with each gentle brush of her fingers. Finally, she wrapped me in her arms and I felt myself melt into her. She held me so tight that I thought I was going to break. Or maybe I already did. I don’t know. But it felt good. I felt warm, comfortable, and full.

She pulled away from me and it was only then that I noticed the redness in her own eyes and the tears staining her cheeks. Great. Just great. I made her cry. Like I needed another reason to hate myself.

“Serenity, Bayla and I broke up,” Was she crying because I reminded her of Bayla? I didn’t even know they broke up. I mean, I’m happy. Is that bad? That is.

“I’m sorry…” I turned around, the cold air finally hitting me. “I should go. I...I’m sorry.”

“Did you mean it?”

I turned around to find Ava standing there, her beautiful face wet from tears and her shoulders slouched. The look in her eyes was, hopeful. I’ve never seen her look so vulnerable.

“Yes.” The second the word slipped out my lips, I felt something lift off my shoulders. For the first time, in a long time, I felt light. I felt right.

I don’t know how she got to me so fast, but all I know is that one second my lips were mine and the next second they were her’s. I placed my hands on her waist, pulling her flush against me as I felt her hands drift up, placing themselves behind my neck. Something about this kiss was different than the ones with Mason and Noah. It felt...fulfilling, like we were two puzzle pieces who fit together. And that’s when I knew. Mason was my past, Noah was my now. But Ava. She’s my future.

[here4theheartbreak]

Welcome Home (NamJin)

AO3 Link Here!

✩ Relationships: Kim Namjoon x Kim Seokjn (NamJin) ✩ Genre(s): Smut

✩ Rating: Explicit ✩ Tags: smut, pwp, rough sex, dirty talk, coming untouched, kitchen sex, biting, bottom!Jin, top!Namjoon ✩ Summary:  Namjoon comes home from a very long business trip to find his boyfriend simply too delicious to pass up.

✩ Word Count: ~1.5k ✩ A/N: Written for @blink4jimin​ for the prompt #10 - You weren’t supposed to leave a mark from my earlier drabble prompt game. Hope you like it!

Jin was potentially the most content man in the world, and he was only twenty-eight. He had a great career as a model and was beginning to audition for film and television roles, which, ultimately, was his life dream. He had a beautiful apartment that he shared with the man of his dreams. He and Namjoon had met when he was a junior in college. Namjoon’s intelligence had blown him away at first, and then his excellent humor and personality. The two began dating and had become inseparable. That was, until Namjoon got his new job. It was a great job, Jin would never fault him for taking it. It paid for their apartment with plenty to spare, barely even cutting into Jin’s income for necessities. The company was international however, and Namjoon was hired for his bilingual excellence… Which meant long trips overseas that Jin couldn’t join him on.

This was the middle of one of those trips. Namjoon had been gone for three solid weeks, working on a vital deal with a new company in Ontario, Canada. Though he called and texted regularly, Jin missed him desperately. He was supposed to be home sometime this next week, and Jin couldn’t wait.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and Jin was relaxing at the kitchen island, adjusting his portfolio of photos for his next modeling contract. The front door creaked open, and Jin perked up.

“Namjoon?” He asked, his heart skipping a beat.

Namjoon rounded the corner, his suitcase thudding to the ground. He grinned broadly. “I’m home.”

Jin scrambled to his feet, slamming into Namjoon as he kissed him hard. Namjoon laughed, walking them back until Jin’s back hit the fridge. He deepened the kiss quickly, his teeth nipping Jin’s bottom lip. Jin could already feel him stiffening in his pants, and he whined.

“Just got home and you wanna fuck me?” He asked, his mouth still brushing Namjoon’s.

“I’ve missed you,” Namjoon mumbled, kissing over Jin’s neck. He slid his hands up under his shirt, the tips of his fingers brushing over his muscles. “Everything about you… I was gone too long.”

“Yeah, you were,” Jin agreed, moaning when Namjoon’s fingers found his nipple and pinched lightly. “Make up for it.”

“Yeah?” Namjoon pulled back to meet Jin’s gaze. “You want to?”

Jin reached down, pushing his sweats down. He nodded. “Our bed’s been so empty.”

Namjoon’s pupils dilated, his expression going from curious to lustful in a heartbeat. He kissed Jin hard again before yanking his shirt up and off his head. He stepped back, pulling off his own shirt. Jin sank to his knees, undoing Namjoon’s jeans and pushing those and his boxers down. He nuzzled his cock for a moment before sinking down on it, moaning when Namjoon’s hand fisted his hair and pulled.

He bobbed his head quickly, reaching into his own boxers to stroke himself. Namjoon’s moans were heaven to his ears, and his entire body was tense with the anticipation of what was to come.

He didn’t have to wait too long, however, because Namjoon yanked him up and turned him to face the island. He kicked his sweats to the side, panting already. Jin winced when Namjoon’s large hand shoved his upper half down over the island in the kitchen. His cock twitched desperately in the confines of his boxers, seemingly not caring near as much as he did about the ache the edge of the stone counter left on his hips.

Namjoon ripped a hole in the back of his boxers, baring his ass to the cool air. The front was caught on the tip of his cock; forcing it to remain encased. Namjoon squeezed his ass in both hands before slapping twice, hard, on each cheek.

Jin cried out, jerking back.

“Gimme that ass,” Namjoon growled. Jin pushed his hips back and spread his legs further.

Namjoon pushed his cheeks open, exposing his tight, twitching hole. It’d been weeks since he’d touched himself there. He knew he was in for a world of pain (pleasure) with the mood Namjoon was in.

Jin was so up in his head he barely registered the liquid drizzling down his crack and over his hole until Namjoon worked two fingers in, pumping hard. He squealed at the stretch, clenching down.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Namjoon growled.

“Haven’t touched myself since oh! Since you last used m—my ass,” Jin panted, crying out when Namjoon added a third finger.

“Good boy. This hole is only for my tongue, fingers, and cock, isn’t it?”

Jin nodded, humping back on Namjoon’s hand.

“I got you a plug though,” Namjoon rumbled, leaning over Jin’s body to speak against his ear. “A nice thick one. You’re gonna keep in in your hole when I’m away on business. Keep yourself nice and open for when I come home so I can just fuck my boy’s warm little ass. My cock’s so hard and here I am with my fingers in you, too tight to fuck without hurting.” He crooked his fingers against Jin’s prostate, laughing when he screamed.

Jin moaned against his fist, cock dribbling and soaking through the fabric of his boxers. “J— Just fuck it. Put it in.”

“It’ll hurt. I’m not in the mood to fuck you gentle, Jin.”

“Good,” Jin moaned. “You’re stressed... Use me. Let me make it all better. J— Just don’t leave a mark.”

“Why not?” Namjoon pulled his fingers free. Jin heard him slicking his cock.

“Shirtless shoot tomorrow. They’ll be mad if I’m bruised.”

“I make no promises.” Namjoon lined his thick cock up and slammed in, driving balls deep in the first thrust despite Jin’s scream and clench.

As promised, he began to fuck him without mercy, pinning him down to the counter by his hips.

Jin screamed against his arm, grabbing the opposite end of the island to brace as Namjoon railed his body. It hurt, tears sliding down Jin’s cheeks, but he fucking loved it. His cock was aching, edging closer and closer to that orgasm.

He loved Namjoon, and everything Namjoon gave him - gentle and loving, and hard and brutal. It was with Jin that Namjoon found his peace, and became comfortable with taking what he needed, and Jin was proud to be exactly what he needed in times like this.  

Namjoon laid over him, his teeth finding purchase on the muscle of Jin’s broad shoulder. He bit down hard enough to sting and Jin screamed his name.  He sucked painfully hard, little pinpricks of pain radiating from the spot. That, paired with the impossibly deep thrusts of his cock, and Jin could hold back no more. His cock spilled into the fabric trapping it. He clenched his hole tight as he came, sobbing Namjoon’s name. Namjoon’s teeth tightened. He cried his name again, another thick spurt of come oozing through his ruined boxers.

Namjoon growled almost animalistically, his thrusts speeding up and losing their rhythm.

“Give it to me,” Jin pleaded. “Please, please, I want it. Let go.”

Namjoon pulled back from his shoulder to moan low in his throat. “Take it,” he growled. He slammed deep and wrapped an arm around Jin’s middle, keeping him pressed tight against his body as he emptied his balls deep inside. He huffed softly, shuddering against Jin as his orgasm worked through him, relaxing each tense muscle bit by bit.

Jin’s own cock gave a final weak spurt of come, milked by the steady throbs of Namjoon’s spilling cock.

Namjoon finally sighed, kissing Jin’s back. He pulled out, and Jin whined at the thick, lazy dribble of come that followed his departure.

Namjoon helped him stand and pulled the ruined boxers off, tossing them in the garbage.

“I’ll buy you new ones.”

“I’m not worried about it,” Jin said. He wrapped his arms around Namjoon and kissed him deeply. “Do you feel better?”

“So much. I love you.”

“I love you too. But I’m a bit mad.” Jin pouted at him.

“Why?” Namjoon’s expression turned serious.

Jin pouted and touched his sore shoulder. “I told you not to leave a mark and you bit me so hard I almost bled,” he whined.

Namjoon made a small noise of surprise, touching his own mouth. “Oh God, I didn’t notice. I’m so sorry.”

Jin laughed. “My makeup girl is gonna kill you. And I’m going to let her.”

Namjoon gasped, covering his chest with his hand. “You wouldn’t.”

“No, but I might let her smack you a little.”

Namjoon laughed, kissing Jin’s cheek. “I am sorry. I’ll take the blame… Wanna come shower with me?”

“Promise not to bite another chunk out of my skin, you damn zombie?”

Namjoon laughed harder. “No promises, but I’ll try to keep my mouth to myself.”

“Oh god, no, don’t do that,” Jin said, pulling Namjoon into another kiss. “Never keep that mouth to yourself. I love it,” he mumbled against his lips.

Namjoon wrapped an arm around his middle. “Fine, I promise not to go zombie on you then, how about that?”

“Much better compromise.”

The two laughed as they walked to the bathroom, arm in arm.

[lovesouroboros]

It’s Frightening to Meet The Person We Could Have Become

Tonight I met the girl who I am nearly capable of being. She arose from within me, she pushed me toward the flame. For a brief time, I was vengeful - angry, inspired with rage. There was a flicker, a moment in which I did not recognise myself. 

Earlier tonight, I wanted to hurt someone. Not anybody - somebody specific. I wanted to make him feel pain, I wanted him to feel frightened. I wanted him to hurt the way he’d hurt others, the way he’d hurt someone I knew. I wanted him to be scared, the way that she was scared. 

I thought it unfair that those who’ve been hurt have to cower while their abusers run free. While they drink at the neighbourhood bar, laughing with friends - the ones who’ve they’ve bruised sit alone, in another, hopefully safer place. The ones that they’ve bruised are still hiding, afraid.

I’d looked for him for a week before now. A few people knew to call me if he was spotted. Soon enough, there he was : on the corner, as if he’d never left. When the dust settles, the monsters crawl back beneath our bed frames. No one dares to stop them. I thought I would.

The call came - I prepared. There was a plan. There were pills crushed to powder, stashed in a tiny ziplock I’d nestled within my purse. I changed clothes - swapped my stained jeans for an expensive mini skirt, name brand. I wanted to look valuable, like someone worth breaking. I put makeup on for the first time in weeks - blush, lipstick, mascara. Looking in the mirror, I thought, “I am ready to kill this man.” 

I laughed, but it did not feel like a joke. 

I bring my puppy, Scar, to the bar. It’s counterintuitive and premeditated - there is an image to create. “Dainty Damsel totes Dime Sized Dog, falls Head over Heels for Dreamy Drug Dude.” 

In reality, I don’t wear heels. It’s good - he’s not as tall as I’d imagined. The table next to him is free, and I feel him watch me when I sit down. I make a spectacle of myself, aided by the passerby patrons who try to chat me up. Not now, I’m on a mission. Today, I’m going to kill a man.

I thought he’d be more bold. I move around a lot, I give him something to comment on - drawing in a notebook, coloured pencils splayed about. I feel him watching me, but he does not speak. I “drop” an orange pencil on the ground and wait for him to return it. He does, but he does not inquire more - it is an act of good grace, no openers to follow.

An acquaintance from the neighbourhood enters - an older man, Jacob. I smile when I see him, and he joins Drug Dude and their friends. I did not know they were acquainted, and I am glad to discover the fact - it is to my advantage. I continue to play manic pixie dream date in the corner until Jacob goes inside to the bar. I wait a minute, then follow.

“Who is that boy you’re with?” 

He smiles. 

“It’s a long story. I’ll join you in a moment, I need a whiskey first.”

I am intrigued, returning to my table. It isn’t common knowledge, what’s happened between the boy and my friend. In fact, it is Top Secret Info. So what’s the story, too long to express without a drink? 

When I sit down, I notice the boy is leaving. We make eye contact, but my courage fails me for a beat. What am I to say? 

“Stay, so I can drug you!” 

But that isn’t the plan at all. It has to be him first, I need him to hold an illusion of power. I let him leave.

Jacob joins me, now nursing his whiskey. He begins to tell me the story. This boy, he’s just come out of a horrible relationship. Truly violent. (So it is known, there was violence). More than being beautiful, he is kind, and intelligent. Jacob thinks there is a sadness within him. He tells me that the boy does too many drugs, but when he is not wasted, he is a wonderful soul. 

Jacob is confident that I am shy, that I am tail between my legs nervous about winning over the Dreamy Druggie. He tells me that he think I’d be good for him, because I am kind, and I don’t drink, and maybe someone loving like me is exactly what DD needs in this moment. I swallow my saliva.

“In any case, he’s gone now. I was too nervous to say hello.”

“I know where he’s gone, I can give you the name of the bar.”

I pause, something strikes me. The feeling passes.

“Would you go with me? I don’t want to do it alone. You could introduce us.”

Jacob smiles again. He is drunk, and happy to play Cupid. I suspect that he is also happy that I’ve placed my trust in him - we were not friends before tonight. He throws back his whiskey. 

“Alright then, let’s go.” 

The bar isn’t far, about a 5 minute walk from the last one. Still, we have time to chat - and I let Jacob do the talking. He’s a photographer, and he tells me that he wants to take photos for DD’s portfolio. He tells me that DD doesn’t think he is beautiful enough to model - objectively, this is untrue. Apparently he’s told Jacob that his “teeth aren’t nice enough” to have photos taken. Jacob’s solution? Don’t smile.

The new bar is loud. From wall to pavement it is crowded with drunk and sweaty college students chanting in unison about the football match. “Karim! KARIM! KARIIIIM!!” To be there is to be exhausted.

My puppy is scared - she is either too young or too old for this nonsense. I tell Jacob I’ll wait outside, lighting a cigarette and projecting an air of disinterest. He returns quickly, DD in tow. Showtime begins. I am nervous once more.

“Asha, I’d like to present you to a friend of mine. This is Wren. Wren, this is-”

“Asha,” he finishes. My name sounds funny coming out of his mouth - heavier. His eyes are big, like mine. He holds my gaze, and for a moment - I think he knows what I’m up to. Then - 

“Enchanté.”

“Enchantée, à toi aussi.” 

Jacob is smooth, busying himself with someone beside him without looking like he’s fucking off to give me time to run game. Whether his smoothness is appreciated or not is unapparent, for Wren does not seem to notice his departure.

“Do you live in the neighbourhood?”

Already he is trying to trap me, pre-strangulation analysis. Does whether I’m local play a factor in where he’ll choose to hurt me?

“Two blocks from here, and you?” 

I already know where he lives, but it’s nice to ask.

“A bit further, near the bar we were at before. Do you remember me?”

Freeze.

“Have we met?”

“We haven’t, but I’ve seen you many times. I thought maybe you’d have seen me, too.”

Narcissist.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m sure I would have remembered you.” 

It’s a cheap line, but it works - he smiles.

“You have nice teeth.” 

I’ve seen the bite marks they leave.

“Thank you. Would you like a drink?”

I shake my head.

“I don’t drink, thanks.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like who I am when I drink.”

He pauses, studying my face. I don’t know where the words came from, they’re completely misaligned with my charade of innocence. Some part of me decided to offer its truth without consulting the rest, and I’m not sure which part of myself deserves a kick.

“I understand that. I don’t either, usually, but I’m not sure how to stop. It doesn’t make me feel better, but I already feel bad anyway.”

Now it’s my turn to pause. His words feel honest, and it disturbs me. My mother told me once that abusers will wear their vulnerability on their shirtsleeve, like a pin. This is how they keep the “poor me” narrative running, this is why we feel sorry for them rather than angry. I am in the process of reconstructing this knowledge into walls around me when he speaks again - 

“What are you when you drink?”

What. Not who. What?

“Violent.”

“Yeah, me too. I don’t want to be, though. I want to be good for people.”

“Are you? Sometimes?”

He crouches down to sit crosslegged on the pavement. Immediately, Scar walks to join him, resting her head on his leg. Two against one, I join them on the ground. 

“So?”

“I was thinking. It’s easier here. Yes, sometimes I am good for people. More often, some people are good for me. I try to learn from them, and it works sometimes.”

“What about when it doesn’t work?”

Wren winces, withdrawing his pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. He pulls out two, offering the first to me. I accept, and he lights them both before speaking again. I inhale.

“Sometimes I’m too angry for anything to work. Except the people I’m angry with, they’re not around anymore. So the people who’ve stuck by me, they get my rage. It’s fucking backwards. I’m fucking backwards.”

I look up to the sky. It is night, but the sky isn’t fully dark - it never is. Light pollution shifts the black to blue, adding in a reddish tint. There are no stars to be seen.

“Why are you telling me this? Is this how you usually flirt?”

He shakes his head.

“I’m not flirting, I’m talking. Because I think you’ll understand me. You don’t need to flirt with people who understand you, there’s not a game to be played. Flirting is hiding. When I look at you, I see the same thing that I’m talking about in me. It’s in your eye, the left one : rage. But more than that, you are soft. I see you choosing to be soft. So I trust you, because for some people - it is not a choice. It is much more powerful to have the option to be wicked and choose not to be than to have been kindhearted all along. I am trying to choose that same power.”

“What stops you?”

“Exhaustion.” 

I feel a sharp and sudden pain grip my chest, like a hornet sting to the heart. I reach my hand out without warning and grip his tightly.

I cannot explain what happens now, not properly. There are lights, flashes, a lifetime before me. My surroundings disappear. There is a chorus of memories that are not my own. I hear glass shattering and raised voices, I hear door slams. I taste blood in my mouth, my whole body aches. I feel drunk, distorted, disgusted, disgusting. There is a stained mattress, abandoned house, paint peeling. I feel myself making love to a woman, many women - my body is not my own, it is pale, it is Wren’s. I feel decades of tears rushing forward like a tsunami, pouring out of my eyes, filling up my mouth. I feel like I am being waterboarded with saline and screams, writhing and fighting to get out. Finally there is a climax, a tipping point - I manage to pull back, break free.

I am back on the street. Shaking, I look at my hands- they are my own once more. I look up to Wren and see his huge brown eyes, staring back at me. It occurs to me that I have just experienced every pain he’s ever suffered, and now I believe him to be deserving of love. It occurs to me that now, I think I may love him.

“Wren--”

He closes his eyes and places a hand up, stopping the rest of my words before they can meet the air. For a moment he is silent, pensive. Then, finally --

“Asha, did you come here to kill me?”