#my work schedule is all fucked up again this week so my creative streak might not last

[torra-and-the-toons]

I saw this while setting up the FNS and my jaw almost hit the floor.

Thank y’all sooo much for this milestone!! Maybe I’ll try to do some kind of celebration thing idk... I’m really bad at those XD 

[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.

[theamberfang]

Journal 371: Exhaustion

Productivity

It seems like I’m on a streak of activity lately, because today was another productive one. Most evidently, I managed to write this week’s “Extended Outlook” about my personal philosophy. What’s less evident is that I actually texted to the person that I’m editing for that he might be interested in reading it, considering what I’ve read thus far of his manuscript. I also shared it with that D&D friend since I’ve tried explaining Determinism to him in the past, and today’s Outlook gets at what it means to me without ever bothering to try defining Determinism explicitly.

As an aside, I decided not to include my week’s schedule nor my extended goals because I’ve actually been liking having it on my Monday journals instead. I originally was doing that because I’ve occasionally used my Monday journal as a substitute for the Outlook, but I think it works.

Indignation

Beyond today’s Outlook, I also spontaneously posted a couple of things on F*cebook. First was a message explaining that I’ve slowly been trying to get back into using the site, followed by a link to the same song that I shared here. (It’s been fun to sing along to, and I like the lyrics even if I haven’t deciphered much meaning from them.)

F*cebook ended up making me angry though, because, apparently, if someone comments on something you’ve posted, the site now has the gall to open a window, basically prompting you to respond immediately. There’s already so much nonsense going on, with apps and groups on the left, all of the notifications up top, the friend list on the right, and everything going on in the middle. It’s all so busy that it’s difficult for me to process it all, and they had the gall to design something so disgustingly obtrusive. Fuck this garbage user interface.

Also, fuck F*cebook for being a giant mega-corporation that I’m practically forced to deal with because everyone I know uses it. Fuck all the money they hoard. Fuck all the data they gather from all their users. Fuck F*cebook makes me legitimately angry. I was already fed up with F*cebook’s bullshit when I wasn’t even using their service; their website being actual garbage just pushed me over the edge.

Honestly, more than anything else I’ve done today, being angry is probably what tired me out the most. I don’t usually get mad at stuff. I suppose the politics I’ve been getting into primed me to feel more strongly about F*cebook, but the way the site just provokes my anxiety and the ADHD that I probably have was too much.

Wrapping Up

I have a few more things to talk about briefly. First, the host of the online trans support group replied to my feedback, thanking me. She also hopes that I’ll attend tomorrow; I’m not sure if I will, but I’m more inclined to since I took the time to give that feedback.

Since rigorous scheduling and timekeeping is fundamentally a capitalist endeavor, I’m thinking of moving away from my hourly timestamps again. I’m going to try something with less precision, and it might subtly help me feel less like I’m “late” all of the time.

Week’s Schedule

Tues: Be creative; Online trans group(?)

Wed: DBSA

Thurs: Shower

Fri: NitW

Sat: Be creative; editing(?)

Sun: Shower

Mon: Extended Outlook (probably about that editing)

Extended Goals

Wan, my Reddit penpal, still hasn’t gotten back to me, so it’s probably about time I shoot him another message

Read The Conquest of Bread

Read Dune

Talk to Mom about stuff: getting a new computer, a feminine haircut, ask if she has a purse I could have

Write a Nuclear Throne “strategy guide”

Write Nuclear Throne fanfiction

Write out game design ideas: Smash-style fighter, MOBA, digital CCG, that old indie one

Reactions/reviews to whatever—an anime maybe

Keep trying to use F*cebook (despite how angry it makes me)

Keep trying to talk to people in general

Tomorrow’s Tasks

Early:

Stretches

Dance for exercise

Khan Academy

Midday:

Be creative

Habit-free time

Evening:

Online trans group; 1900

Journal

[early-sxnsets]

First Days

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18672919/chapters/44630452

Chapter 2/12 of Proximity (The Collision of Lonely Men)

Word Count: 2451

Chapter Summary: Simon makes a friend, and maybe an enemy at the same time.

First days send me back to being a teen.

The anxious new faces and tired, sagging ones of upperclassmen trying to get around them. The pushing, the shoving. The new class schedules, and the confused kids who don't even know who they are, much less what they're doing.

Thankfully, now, I get to watch it from afar. Although I feel like I'm locked up in a tower.

This is the shittiest fairy tale I could imagine.

Brushing my hands over the stack of papers laid out on my desk, I let the day's weight ease onto me. I only have five appointments today, but that doesn't mean I won't get bombarded by students trying to change their classes last minute. I know how it is, I shadowed a public school counselor for a year.

The pile of work out in front of me is a bit dense, but easy. New students, all second or third year transfers. And… lunch is in four hours. That's, at least, something to look forward to.

Well, except for being thrown further into that teenaged “Who do I sit with” bullshit. I haven't left my room much in the past week, and I highly doubt Mr. Stick In The Arse will let me sit beside him (though, I wouldn't be shocked to find that he sits alone). That, of course, leaves me with no other option that the fact that I'll be standing alone, waiting to find the furthest spot from everyone else.

Brilliant.

I get halfway through my morning before the Dean stops in, standing at my doorway as I'm rearranging a student's schedule. He knocks once, sending me jumping before I straighten up. “Oh, hello. Good morning sir--David.”

His nose turns up unimpressively. “You'll be introduced before lunch so that the faculty knows you beyond a welcome email.”

Well, there's no yes or no to that. Guess it's an order. “Okay. I'll be there.”

After nodding briefly and flicking his wrist watch out for a look, he turns on his heel and leaves me without another word.

I know I've never had a father, but he's the closest thing to a disappointed, high standards parent I think I've ever gotten, and it's only been a week.

Checking the time doesn't prove to be much of a spirit lifter. 10:48. Lovely.

I stare out the window, pen clicking impulsively in my hand as I follow a few leaves fluttering across a sidewalk. Empty. It's all empty. Locked away classrooms and borderline solitary confinement for me.

I introduced myself to the other counselor. She's in her late 60s and seems very cold. I doubt I'll talk to her much except for good mornings. That, of course, leaves me knowing three people so far. The Dean, Professor Pitch, and her.

I might as well count the pigeons I fed last night as friends too. They've paid more attention to me than anyone else around here.

Exhale. Slow, steady exhale, blowing out through my mouth.

It feels like a century before lunch finally hits. It takes me a bit of navigating, but I finally find the building after roaming the grounds for a good 10 minutes. Once inside, I steer myself towards the lunch line, avoiding the watchful eyes of students and faculty alike, starting to fill up the rooms.

I'm guilty of stuffing as much food as possible onto my tray, swiping my ID, and scuffling back to the staff dining room. It's empty, all but for the Dean, who's pacing towards the back. Such an odd man. “David?” I manage out, weight shifting nervously from foot to foot.

His head perks up, fingers resting upon his chin. “Ah yes, Mr. Snow. Thank you for being early. Come, sit.”

Following orders is easy to do. Take a seat and stare at my hands as others filter through. I worry that I'm sat in someone else's “spot” as a short, unamused woman takes a seat a few chairs around away from me. She gives me a familiar once over, looking through the top of her glasses before she shoves down a mouthful of salad.

A hand clasps over my shoulder, snapping my from my trance and jolting me standing. It feels as though the entire room is staring (they probably are). Scurrying quickly, I find myself standing feet away from the Dean, nervously picking at the pills of my jumper. Everyone falls silent at the wave of his hand--it's like magic.

“I'd like to take this opportunity, as we're all already gathered, to allow our new guidance counselor, Mr. Snow, to introduce himself.” Introduce myself?

“Uh, yes. Yeah. Thank you.” I stumble over my words, eyes scanning the crowd as I pull at my sleeve. I'm absolutely shit at public speaking, on top of barely being able to form a solid sentence in the first place. Brilliant. “I--uh--hi. Hello. I'm Simon. 26, just moved from London. I-I was a social worker for kids in the system, helping them get proper care and whatnot. I took this job to save up a bit, though. Social work isn't really lucrative, and I have bills.” I try laughing, but it comes out more as a nervous chuckle. “Besides that, I-I'm always up for a chat. I quite like football, I suppose. So yeah. That's… that's pretty much it.”

My hands rest on my thighs, back hunching in the slightest as the Dean looks over, nodding and finally letting me go back to eat without all the eyes in the room on me. Except, when I do sit, the woman with cat-eye glasses is staring at me again.

Slowly, I open my mouth, trying to formulate a response. She cuts in before I can.

“You don't have to move, you're fine here.” Oh well, that's lovely information.

“Thanks,” I exhale, squinting at her ID. “Penelope, is it?”

“Call me Penny,” she shrugs off, picking up her napkin and wiping her face. The rings on the fingers shine slightly in the dull light, catching my eye as I count them off.

“Are you engaged?” I ask rather bluntly, eyes following her right hand. There's a rather nice ring on her finger--I can see it closer now, as she extends her hand and offers a look.

“Mmhm,” she begins. “He lives in America, though. He was studying abroad in uni. He flies out every summer to see me. This year, I flew out to surprise him in more than one way.” She admires the glint, and I can't help but study her. She's interesting. Smart. Large personality, larger hair.

“What's his name?”

“Micah.” Her hand settles back on the table. “Anyway. Enough about me. Who the hell are you, really?”

I hold back a careless snort, poking at my food. “I'm… nobody important, really.”

“That's bullshit if I've ever heard it. Where are you from? Your accent doesn't sound like London.”

Good question. “Here and there,” I shrug. It isn't exactly a lie. “I settled for secondary in London, though, and that's where I stayed through uni.”

She side eyes me, taking a few bites as I shovel in my own food. I'd be more embarrassed if it wasn't for the fact that my back is to most of the room. Still, she's looking at me the same way Agatha would at fancy dinners--like I have no table manners (because I barely do).

She lets me finish before she starts up conversation again. Given it's me, it doesn't take long for that to happen. “So, who'd they put you up with?”

“As in, my roommate?”

She nods, peering around.

“Well, uh… Mr. Pitch. I don't really know how to say his first name, but--”

“Basilton?!” She whispers hushly, eyes raising before she laughs. “Oh you poor bastard, they put you with Mr. Prick.”

“Mr. Prick…?”

She waves a hand dismissively, sipping her coffee as she holds back a grin. “That's what the students call him. Rightfully so, I'd say. He's quite the wound up loon, if you ask me.”

I can't help myself from looking around, trying to find him to get a good look. I catch him, eventually, sitting in the near back, alone at a table with earbuds in and a book in hand. He's got the signature scowl on his face. “What's… he do? What's the deal with him?”

She's rolling her eyes when I look back. “Tenured in. Did they not tell you what he does?” I shake my head. “Brilliant. Well, he's head of the English and Literature department--I teach 10th and 11th year Lit and Creative Writing--and everyone who has him says he's an absolute nightmare. It's a shock that anyone takes his Queer Lit course.”

“Queer Lit?”

She nods dramatically. “See, fun as all hell course. Wilde, Shakespeare, Nin! I'd campaigned to teach it, but he got first call on it, being the teacher for the Gender Sexuality Alliance.”

I stop, cogs turning as I stare down at the grease streaking my plate. It processes slowly, then all at once. “Is he… you know…”

She laughs again--this time, it's a big, snorty laugh. Once she calms down, she gives a final chuckle. “Are you asking if Mr. Pitch is gay?”

I give her a shrug, blinking back to reality. “I-I mean, there's nothing wrong with it! Nothing at all, I'm just… I didn't know, and--”

Her hand settles over mine. “Don't get your knickers twisted. He is. Just thought it was evident, given literally everything about him.”

I glance back again, and I swear on my year's salary that he was looking at me. “I don't like to assume,” I add back into the conversation.

“There's a difference between assumption and context clues, dear.” The bell rings, cutting her short as she sighs. “Well, fuck. I've got a group of clueless 15 year olds to yell at. I'll save you a spot at dinner.”

And with that, I think I've made my first friend (well, besides the pigeons).

It's a pain to drag through the rest of the day. Even though the classes usually wrap in the mid afternoon, my office hours are locked into staying until half an hour before dinner. Basis of this? Fuck everything, and I need to buy snacks to hide in my desk.

I spend roughly half of it staring out the window or playing solitaire on my computer, and the other half was spent reworking schedules to the stuck up kids whimsy. I wonder if part of my job description is “doormat”, and I just hadn't read it clearly enough.

When I'm finally able to lock up and go to eat, I'm feeling half starved and completely exhausted. Thank God Penny seems to like talking, because she spends the entirety of our meal wholeheartedly ranting about how much young boys are the absolute worst group to teach.

“I should've taken the job at the all girls prep,” she huffs, practically throwing down her soup spoon. “Imagine how much happier I would have been not having to ask a boy to not replace ‘rump’ with ‘asscheeks’.”

“Why didn't you take the job?”

“Same reason as everyone else--money.”

I nod solemnly, taking another mouthful of baked chicken.

She keeps going. Long enough for me to get the occasional word in, but not so little that I have to talk often. By the time everyone's starting to file out, she's finally wrapping up her story about her least favorite student so far.

Thankfully, there aren't many students out and about once we're done. They're all scuffling off to the library or any other hang out on campus.

Penny and I part ways by the dorms. As per usual, Mr. Pitch has me locked out (or is it Basilton? Is what what people actually call him?) When I step in after scraping my keys around to find the right one and actually get in, I find him sitting right by the door on the sofa, doing work. That bastard.

He looks up, lips curving distastefully as I carefully close the door behind me. And thus, I'd assume, begins our nightly routine of avoidance. I lock myself in my room, and only step out for maybe a glass of water.

Tonight, though, I suppose I have something to attempt a conversation. “So…” I begin, fiddling with my glass as I stand in the kitchen. The light's off, but the soft yellow of the living room lamp washes over us, making the room feel all toned down. “You teach English, yeah?”

He doesn't turn, still seeming to stare ahead. “Yes, Snow. Astounding conclusion.”

“I… I'd meant that Penelope told me--”

“So you're all pals with Bunce then. Good. She's been sat alone for some time now.”

It hurts a bit, coming from him. As if he's assuming we're both too much of outcasts to be friends with anyone but each other. I worry that, maybe, he's right.

I inhale slowly before continuing. “She said you teach Queer Lit, and that you run the GSA. That's…” I think for a second--a long pause--trying to find the right word.

It's a second too long in his eyes, because he whips around quickly and stares me down. “Don't bother finishing that sentence, Snow. I don't need to hear semi coherent blubbering about how brave I am. Yes, I'm gay. So kindly fuck off.”

I freeze momentarily, glass squeezed tighter in my hand as I stand bolt-still. He stares back, sighing exaggeratedly after a minute before going back to his work.

Taking the glass back, I try not to slam my bedroom door.

Does he have to be an absolute dick about everything? Jesus Christ, this is why they call him Mr. Fucking Prick. Maybe he deserves it. Maybe I'm not actually mad, and he's just ridiculously mean.

I scratch my arm absentmindedly, settling down my glass before falling face first onto my bed. My mind runs over things to do, body working up into a red flashing anger. Who's it for? I don't even know.

It's just… unfair.

Everything's unfair. I thought it'd be livable--I thought I could be optimistic.

I push myself up, then kick down onto my mattress, hitting my fists against my pillows.

Rat bloody bastard wants to be a little dick and yell at me. Fine. Fine. I'll just avoid the shit out of him. Let him be fucking alone, for all I care. He seems to do that to himself anyway.

I manage to sit myself up, chest struggling to heave a full breath in and a full breath out. In the corner of my eye, I see myself in the mirror. Hunched, reddened. Sad. I'm so fucking sad.

Fucking hell. What am I doing?

[scrumptiousdonutangel]

I just... I fucking hate myself. I want to cut but I don't want to break my clean streak and my new years resolution, let everybody down and talk back into that horrible habit... I want to die but I don't. I'm stuck in this horrible fucking limbo between hating myself but not wanting to hate myself and wanting to live, y'know? I fucking hate it

I know exactly what you mean, having been to the same horrific limbo myself. It’s absolutely horrible, but you’ve got to push through it. And I know it seems like death would be so much easier then having to fight down urges everyday, but it isn’t. It’s so much worse, not just for you but for everyone you love. That being said, you shouldn’t feel guilty about the urges because just like any kind of addiction or self harm, it is incredibly hard to stop at times. Don’t give in to them, but you shouldn’t expect yourself to suddenly have no thoughts like that right away. Now I’m going to list some stuff that has helped me and friends with things like suicidal thoughts and self harm, try some out and see if any of them help. Recovery isn’t easy or fast but these might help a little

1. Medication. Now I know that it doesn’t work for everyone, but in my personal experience it has helped drastically. You can always try it out and if it doesn’t seem to be helping or makes things worse just get off it. I understand that some people can’t afford it or don’t want to bring it up to their parents, but if you can it is definitely worth checking out.

2. Go get some good all vitamin D. Go outside, you don’t have to be doing anything energetic, just lay in the sun for a while. If it’s cold or not sunny in your area, sometimes a tanning booth can help too.

3. Exercise. This is my least favorite one, but I admit that it helps. I’m not talking go to the gym and workout for 3 hours, but instead just try some simple exercises before your shower, a simple walk, or even just some stretches in the morning if you don’t have the time or energy. This not only helps with depression, but can make you feel alot better  if you struggle with some self confidence issues.

4. The good old ice cube. A girl I knew once told me that she struggled with self harm very severely and didn’t know how to fight the urges, so I told her to try out the ice cube trick. When you feel the urge to hurt yourself, just push an ice cube down on the area you want to hurt and it helps relieve the urge a little without actually damaging yourself. I haven’t tried this one, but she did and she said it worked very well.

5. Hot Showers. This is probably the weirdest one, but it really works for me. Whenever I feel the urge to hurt myself, I take a shower and make it hot (not dangerously hot though, the point of this is to not hurt your skin) and increase the temperature when if the urges don’t go away. I don’t know why but it works for me, so try it out and see if it helps at all. (not too hot though)

6. Get creative. Anywhere that you want to hurt, draw. I usually use a pencil just cause it doesn’t leave a mark for too long and feels better, but feel free to use any skin safe utensil. it doesn’t have to be anything incredible, just doodle. It’s amazing what little swirls and spirals can do for you.

7. therapy. Again, I know this one isn’t for everyone. Some people can’t afford it, it doesn’t work for them, or their parents just won’t let them. I get that. My own parent wouldn’t let me go to therapy until I had a very noticeable meltdown. If you can go to a therapist though, I highly advise you to go. Different therapists work in different ways so search around and find one that clicks with you, and make appointments as often as necessary (my own are scheduled for once every two weeks). The myth that you are simply paying a therapist to pretend to care for you is bull crap. They genuinely care for you as a fellow human being and will try their best to help you. They can offer you advice and things to help with your problems, and they know how to handle everything. Talking to friends about your problems may be helping, but I guarantee that a therapist can give you much better advice. If you have issues with your parents (such as your parent doesn’t want you on medication, your parent doesn’t think that your mental issues are real, or your parents think you’re overreacting) I find that a therapist can change their mind pretty easily, seeing as how they’re professionals and deal with that sort of thing a lot. I’m not sure if it’s just in my state, but here if you are over 14 you can attend therapy alone, meaning your parent doesn’t get to be there in the room if you don’t want them to be. Your therapist is legally obligated not to tell your parents something if you ask them not to tell them (unless it is harmful to you or to others). So if you can make it to one I very highly suggest it.

8. If you are feeling suicidal or self harmful, I know your first instinct is to talk to a friend, but a hotline works far better. They are always available and can handle the problem much much better. It may feel weird contacting them, but they are trained for this and want to help you.

that’s all I can think of for now, but I really hope these help, and if you need to talk to anyone or want to know more about any of this just message me, I’d really like to make sure you’re okay. Keep going anon, you are so strong!!!

[buttercup-blue]

Boston

So after my stop in NYC, I was happy to have a few minutes to myself. I mentioned that I bumped into an old flame the weekend before, and I had been letting him spend the night a lot since. I remembered why I broke things off with him... he's obsessed. Wants to spend so much time together, going out to dinner, texting, yuck. He's a sweetheart, handsome and has a good job. I'm just not looking for someone to romantically pursue me. So the day before I went to NYC, I wanted the whole day (and night) to myself. I had been sick for a week and a half, but not bad enough to keep me from my daily routine. He told me he was starting to feel sick and texted me early in the morning to let me know he was going to the doctor. On the way, he got in an accident and his car had to be towed away. On top of it, when he got to the doctor, they said he had strep. He asked me if I wanted to get lunch after I went to the doctor since I needed antibiotics clearly. I felt bad for him, so I said yes. We went to get lunch and picked up my meds. Coming out of the pharmacy, I really craved a cocktail for some reason. I asked if he'd like to get a drink up the street. We got a flight of cocktails and I felt a little tipsy. We were going to head home, but I'm getting nostalgic about moving and asked if he wanted to get a Manhattan at my favorite bar before I took him home. So I clearly set myself up for failure. When I dropped him off, he asked if he could spend the night. In a moment of poor decision making, I said yeah, maybe if I get enough done because I still needed to pack. Usually I'm much more blunt. We miscommunicated and he thought I gave him a bright green light. Like an hour later, I have a man on my hands for the rest of the night. Long story short, I woke up with a 6'-7" man next to me for like the third night in a row. He had to go to work early thank god. I was so irritated and annoyed by a guys presence at that point; he had been treating me like a girlfriend and was way too invasive in my space. I knew I had to power through TD, but afterwards I didn't want any male contact for a minute. My girlfriends and I got to Boston and went to the music fest. We did some shopping, went out and sight saw since they had never been which was a welcome change of pace. However, I knew I would have to meet up with my first SD ever at some point, I'll call him OG. When I checked into the hotel he booked for us, we were short a day. He misunderstood when I told him the dates. He thought I meant three days, not three nights. I sent him a text letting him know what was wrong and he told me he'd take care of it and not to worry. We evaluated our schedules and decided Sunday would be the best day to get together around lunchtime. I've said before that my friends have no idea that I sugar, so here was my cover story: I told them that OG was a guest lecturer for one of my classes back in college and we had a lustful tryst. I never told anyone about it because he is REALLY respected in his field and I could get in massive trouble. He moved back to Boston after the semester, but I had gone to visit him a few times, hence why I knew hotels etc so well in Boston (I have IG evidence of times I was in the city). He owns a company and has a fuck ton of money so having me ask for a favor was no big deal between friends. It would give us a chance to catch up. I'm naturally private with my personal life and as much as I'm grounded, am known to have a wild streak. When I end up having to come up with a cover story, no one questions it because I've remained mysterious. Also, people are a lot dumber than you'd expect as long as you're consistent and nonchalant. So on Sunday, the girls wanted to go to Salem for the morning and I started getting dressed for my sugar date. I dress nicely pretty regularly, but I was obviously being extra. I waited until after they left to put in the final details. I wore a ribbed black dress of moderate length, a tan waistcoat and these awesome spiky Stuart Weitzman heels that are daring but not tacky. I hadn't seen him in so long, so looking good was important to me. I wanted to impress him. We met at a close by hotel bar. He got there early and I sauntered up about 15 minutes later. He was sitting with a large beer in front of him (per usual), dressed super casual in a well fitted black t-shirt and dark jeans. I removed my coat and sat in the seat next to him at the bar. We caught up on the last year or so of our life. I asked him how business was going. We discussed my impending move on New York. The girl we had a threesome with moved there, so he put us back in touch. I asked him if he had dated or been sugaring much. He just turned 40, is well spoken, hot and has little baggage. I have no idea how he's not wifed up. He told me his work and writing journals have been so exciting to him of late, it's just as appealing as an orgasm which is insane to me. He told me a few stories about casually sugaring and I told him about TD and the adventures we had been on. We've always been pretty open with each other. He said he was proud of how far I've come since our first meeting. After two glasses of brut champagne for myself and another beer for him, we both were ready to go. Whenever we both get into a hotel room together, he removes his shoes and puts them next to the dresser and I undo my heels while sitting on the bed. We always continue talking, I sit up on my knees and wait for him to be done settling in. Some things never change. I forgot how sensual he is, an amazing kisser and very passionate. I go down on him like my life depended on it and we have a great session of sex that lasted probably 20 minutes. I previously said that he showed me the right way of sugaring, and one of those things included the fact that he gets tested once a month. I trust him and he's a high class person, so we don't use condoms. He rinsed off in the shower real quick then we laid and continued making out. Lots of hot breathing and lip biting. A few minutes later, I could feel him get hard on my thigh. I was totally game for round two. He doesn't have a big dick, so we can have a lot of fun and creative sex and I don't get worn out. So we keep going and we start getting a little more wild. He started playing with my ass mid-sex which I enjoy. Shamelessly I got up, went into my bag, grabbed the lube and tossed it at him, grabbed my vibe and laid face down on top of it (the same lube and vibe TD paid for 😂). 12 times out of 10 I HATE anal, I'm tiny down there in general and it hurts. But I'm not one to turn something down when I'm excited. He started slow and was eventually pumping regularly. I'm on like my 12th orgasm for the afternoon at this point, it feels amazing for me and he comes again. We lay back down cuddling some more. He goes to rinse off in the shower again. I was still moaning, and trying to calm myself. He comes back into the room, says he's still really turned on by me AND HE GETS HARD AGAIN. He starts going down on me and I push him over and 69 for a minute. He lasts like 4 minutes then comes, but I'm still impressed for a 40 year old man. I guess to clarify, sexual chemistry is obviously very important to me. Some people might view me as being way too giving for a SB, but if I'm having a blast having sex I'm not going to feel like he needs to give me more money or whatever. We chatted for a while longer after we were all done. He does business in New York a couple times a month and said he definitely wants to start getting together again. He got up and started getting dressed as we continued talking. I like our relationship because it's super friendly and utilitarian. He's not as caring as TD, but I like that he comes in, takes care of business and then moves on to his life. He left $1k on the dresser and gave me a kiss goodbye.