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chilling-seavey · 4 months ago

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Dreamland (ln4) - Part Seven

↳ A/N No George and Alex in this part, unfortunately, but there's angst to make up for it. Wait, that does make up for their absence, doesn't it?

↳ Inspired By: 'Maroon' by Taylor Swift

↳ Summary: It’s only been a month and a half since Lando returned to Bristol at the start of his school year; but the yearning for him that blossomed within you made you want to do anything to get to him, even for just a weekend

↳ Pairings: Fanboy Lando Norris x Famous!Author!Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n), University Student Lando x Internet Friend George x Internet Friend Alex

↳ Word Count: 11.8k

↳ Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Lando's dreams coming true (but not all as easily as he thinks), fingering, oral (f receiving), little light-hearted dirty talk, getting walked in on, unprotected pregnant sex.

PART SIX || PART EIGHT

The campus of Bristol University welcomed the colours of fall early that year. With views of rolling hills behind the city buildings, the students navigated tree-lined streets of yellows, oranges, and reds to and from classes, dressed in light weight jackets or sweaters to keep away the chilly and damp British fall air.

Among them was Lando who had just finished his last class of the day and couldn’t seem to get back to the dormitory building fast enough. After spending a summer with you in Monte Carlo, there was something so blasé about being back in Bristol and those dark classrooms with drawling professors that made him hate it more and more. The secret of you was his favourite secret to keep; his dream come true that was now all his, only made permanent by the growing life inside you. A secret within a secret. That’s how it was when your career was so public. Everything was a secret.

Lando didn’t mind it that way. In a sense it was so thrilling to be in a secret relationship with you where only your closest friends and no one else knew. His parents didn’t even know. Or they didn’t believe him that somehow he - their socially awkward second son, of all people - had snagged the nationally famous author he had been fanboy-ing over for months and months.

The only issue that weighed on him was the distance between you. You might have only been a timezone away but especially since finding out the news that you were pregnant, the distance felt like a whole world away. He hated that he couldn’t be there with you but his parents never understood and your management would never allow it because they couldn’t know either. It was a mess, but it was your mess, and Lando was thankful for it all in the same.

He had just reached his door, the dusting of foggy rain clinging to his sweater, when his phone rang. With the call interrupting the song he had been playing almost deafeningly through his headphones, he pulled his phone out of his pocket to check who it was. If it was anyone else calling he would have been annoyed, but when your contact name flashed across his screen, a smile came to his face. With his headphones dangling over his arm, he unlocked his door and pushed it open with one hand as his other answered your call and raised his phone to his ear.

“Hey, you.” he said with a smile, letting the door close behind him loudly.

Your sniffle and your waving voice came through the other end, “Hi, Lan.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked quickly, dropping his backpack onto the floor at the foot of his single bed on the right-hand side of the room.

“I really miss you.” you admitted shakily, almost rushing to get the words out before a fresh wave of tears washed over you and you burst into sobs again.

“Oh, baby.” Lando cooed and sat down on the side of his bed with a frown, “I miss you too. What happened?”

“Everything!” you cried, spilling your hormonal heart to him through the phone line, “I’ve been puking my guts out almost every morning and I’m so, so tired! My motivation sucks and I haven’t written a good word in days and it feels like so much effort to even open my laptop and that’s pissing me off because I need to write! And my boobs hurt…so much. It hurts to even wear a shirt because the second something grazes them it feels like my nipples are being sliced off and I’m going crazy and I miss you!”

Since you couldn’t see him, you weren’t privy to the smile that came to Lando’s face as you rambled about your raging pregnancy symptoms that you had been dealing with for a few weeks now, only more so as your little embryo nestled itself into your body and started wreaking havoc on your hormones. It only made it feel that much more real and Lando could nearly burst with pride. He tried not to let his smile show through his voice as he consoled you quietly.

“Well, you’re doing amazing, baby. It’s going to get easier. It’s always the first trimester that’s the hardest.”

You sniffled, crying to him pathetically, “How do you know?”

“Because I’ve read up a little.” he admitted, “Just some internet articles and stuff.”

That only sent you into another wave of full out sobbing, “Oh my God, I love you! I love you so much!”

“I love you too.” he chuckled quietly, still grinning ear to ear as he stared out his window at the fall-colored trees that covered the campus. “And I miss you a lot.”

“I had my first appointment today.” you mumbled wetly, your voice still wavering with emotion.

Lando tore his eyes away from the window to look to the floor, “I know. I remember. How was it?”

“Awful!” you sobbed.

“Awful?” Lando was instantly sent into a heart-racing panic, “Why? What happened?”

Your woes were simple, “You weren’t there!”

“Is the baby okay?” he pushed you a little.

“Yeah, it’s fine. It’s great. But I’m not!” you wailed, almost full on panicking, “I can’t do this without you!”

“Hey, you’re not without me.” Lando tisked, trying to keep up with your flips in emotions and conversations through the phone, “I’m right here.”

“I hate this!” you cried.

“I know, sweetheart. Only for a few more months and then I graduate.”

“But I need you now! I’m so scared to do this all alone!”

“You are not alone. Not at all. I am only a phone call away and your best friends are right there with you whenever you need.”

You only sobbed in response.

Lando picked at the rips on his jeans, admitting softly, “I hate hearing you so upset. I wish there was something I could do to make it all better for you.”

“Come home to me.” you whimpered.

Lando’s face broke into a melancholy smile, “Soon. Soon I can come home to you and our baby.”

“Baby is giving me a run for my fucking money right now.” you cried softly, stumbling over your breaths. “And I need a cuddle so badly.”

“Well, maybe for now, you two can come here for a visit? Come to Bristol again and I can show you around my campus and stuff? Give you as many cuddles and kisses as you need?”

You sniffled, your tears slowing, “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

You sniffled again, “Yes, please.”

Lando was completely grinning again, “I would really, really like that.”

“Can I come this weekend?”

“Whenever you want, sweetheart.”

You let out a little wet whimper and a trembling, “Oh, I love when you call me that.”

He chuckled softly, “You are my sweetheart.”

“Stop, I’m gonna fucking cry again, shit.” you took a deep breath the best you could, “Fuck these hormones…I’m a mess.”

Lando offered another solution to your seemingly endless list of problems, “And why don’t you call me next time you have an appointment? FaceTime me? Then I can kind of be there too?”

“Do you want that?” you mumbled.

“Of course. I’d be there in person if I could but since that’s not an option…” he faded out.

“Okay.” you sighed quietly. “That could be nice.”

“Good.”

“Oscar came with me today.”

“That was nice of him.”

“He didn’t like it.”

“Why not?”

“He’s not the biggest fan of clinics and stuff.” you let out a little giggle at the memory of that afternoon as you told him, “You should have seen his face when the doctor pulled out the transvaginal wand.”

Lando’s eyes went wide, “The what?”

“Yeah.” you laughed softly, “Baby’s too small to see from the outside so they had to lube up this wand and stick it inside me to see it.”

“Wow, did it hurt?”

“Was uncomfy but not bad.” you sniffled with a playful smile in your tone, “Would have preferred it to be you.”

“Oh my gosh.” he snorted lightly, licking away his bashful grin at your teasing.

There was a pause as you started to calm down a little just from talking to him. Lando just listened to your soft sniffly breaths through the phone peacefully.

Finally, he spoke again, “Did the doctor say anything else today?”

You sighed, preparing to recite what you learned from your appointment, “Baby is about two centimeters long. I got to see it in its little sac. I got a few pictures that I can send you and bring you copies when I come visit.”

“Okay.” Lando’s smile was apparent in his voice.

His excitement had you continuing, “And there’s only one baby and it looks healthy. Nothing concerning.”

“That’s really good.”

“And the due date is somewhere between April 29th to May 5th. I’m almost nine weeks.”

Lando laid himself back on his bed and tucked his arm behind his head, staring up dreamily at the ceiling, “When do we find out the gender?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“That’s okay. I can google it.”

“I don’t know if I want to know the baby’s gender.”

“Why not?”

“I dunno. Maybe I’m just scared.”

“That’s okay. That’s normal, I’m sure.”

“It’s not normal.”

“It’s not normal to be scared?”

“No…none of this is normal. Having to keep this such a secret.”

Lando sighed heavily, “I know.”

“Do your parents even know yet?”

Lando took his hand from behind his head to habitually bite at his fingernail, trying to word an excuse to explain how he hadn’t told them yet because they would never believe him, never support him, never think he was ready.

“Exactly.” you sighed when he hadn’t answered your question.

“I’m going to tell them. I promise. When I see them next.”

“Will they be okay with it?”

“I don’t care what they think. I’m okay with it and isn’t that all that matters?”

“Yeah.” you mumbled, “I think I’m just scared to tell management.”

“There’s still time.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t stress over things that aren’t happening yet.”

“I love you so much.”

Lando smiled warmly, “I love you too.”

“How did I survive before you?”

“You survived just fine; look at all that you’ve accomplished.”

“You’re my biggest accomplishment.”

Lando pressed his hand to his blushing cheek to try and tame the grin that took up his whole face, “Go book a plane ticket, you flirt. I need to see you.”

Your plane landed on Saturday morning and you took a taxi to the university campus with your best friends in tow. You had told your management that it was just a friendly weekend vacation and the company of your best friends was your excuse to make it out of Monaco without being asked questions. While you were to be soaking up secretive quality time with your boyfriend, your friends would go off to tour the city and stay in a hotel for the night until you had to return to Monte Carlo by Sunday night. It was all paid for by you so they were never going to complain about a free trip even if it meant you ditched them before you even could see a single sight.

Bristol felt so much more lowkey than the high social pressures of Monte Carlo and driving through the rainy city dotted with colourful fall trees, it actually felt like real life. Monaco always felt so luxurious it was almost fake. The windshield wipers of the taxi squeaked across the glass and you kept your cheek pressed against your window as rain drops trickled down and smudged your view of the city you passed through. Habitually, your hand rested softly against your stomach that was still flat from the very tiny life that was still growing inside you.

In the backseats, your friends talked amongst themselves - Oscar, Lily, Charles, and Max - and you were in your own world in the front beside the driver. Soon you passed under the archway at the entrance of the campus and you scanned every passing student for a glimpse of the one person who mattered.

Lando was waiting for your arrival on the steps of the main building and when he saw the taxi pull up to the front, he stood up and hurried down towards the curb to greet you. After months of your secret little relationship, you and your friends knew the routine well and they knew their roles in order to keep your secret discreet.

So Lily took to Lando first for a quick hug in greeting and then Oscar and then you dropped your duffle bag to the sidewalk and finally threw yourself into his arms. Your beaming smiles and tight embrace lasted much longer than that of your friends’ but you didn’t have a second to care at that point. Lando ducked his face in your neck and rubbed his thumb over the small of your back, giving you a moment or two to breathe him in.

“Missed you so much.” you mumbled.

“I missed you too.” Lando breathed.

Your friends, who were starting to grow aware at the seconds that ticked by and the glances from passing students at the obviously emotional embrace you were in, knew they had to step in and break it up. Oscar tugged at the back of your sweater to get your attention but you ignored him.

He whispered your name in warning.

Max finally stepped up and took your arm to physically pull you away from Lando, “Okay…it’s my turn.”

You could only chuckle away the emotional tears that were forming behind your eyes as Max looped Lando up in a hug as if half mocking the same way you had hugged him seconds before, nearly squeezing the air out of his lungs.

“Jesus.” Lando laughed lightly and patted his hands in a friendly nature against Max’s back, “Hey, bro.”

“Missed you, mate.” Max pulled back from their goofy embrace with a playful smack to Lando’s arm.

Lando played along with the cover up, “Missed you the most.”

Charles, half unfazed by his boyfriend’s antics, was the last one to go in for a cover-up hug and he and Lando shared a quick one-armed embrace and brief pleasant greetings.

“Well, welcome to my home.” Lando said to your little group.

“The weather sucks.” Lily blurted out, hugging her arms across her body.

“It does.” Lando laughed lightly.

“But it’s beautiful.” you added.

He smiled at you as if he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you and the rest of your group just melted away. You were the only thing that mattered to him and that had always been the case. You in your blue jeans and brown boots and fall-toned flannel, finished with that cherry red lipstick that made him just want to grab you and kiss it right off your lips. It would have to wait until that evening when you would have his dorm room to yourselves.

“Well…” Oscar cleared his throat as silence fell over your group for a moment, stemming from just the way you and Lando stared at each other, “Maybe we should get this day started.”

Lando tore his eyes away from you with difficulty before asking, “Did you guys want to see the campus too or…”

Charles set his hand in the crook of Max’s arm, “No, no, we’ll let you two have your day.”

“Call if you need us or miss us.” Lily added.

And then they were back in the taxi and disappearing back down the campus street towards the city centre. You and Lando were alone before you knew it. He looked so good in his maroon sweatshirt and blue jeans and the almost unruly curls on his head that brought a smile to your face. He almost made you nervous. But maybe the feeling of butterflies was just the reminder of the little spec of life growing inside you.

“Hi.” Lando finally spoke, his own voice laced with hesitation and joy in seeing you right in front of him again.

“Hi, you.” you smiled.

“You look beautiful.” he said. “You’re glowing.”

“I only threw up twice today.” you blurted out.

His lips perked up at the corner, “That’s good!”

There was a pause. He took a small step towards you, the fall breeze rustling through his hair, and he reached out to brush his fingers over yours as if needing to make sure you were real.

“You up for a tour?” he asked.

Smiling back at him, you nodded, “Yes, please.”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and you followed beside him with your duffle bag over your shoulder, keeping a bit of space between you like you were nothing more than shy teenagers in love. As you navigated your way around the main building and towards the tree lined pathways of campus, Lando kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye before he stopped you and reached for the strap of your bag.

“Here; let me take that.” he offered.

You thanked him with a smile and he hoisted your bag over his shoulder so you could walk freely at his side.

“The flight was okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” you answered, “It was fine.”

He nodded, kicking a few damp leaves across the rain streaked pathway. A pause.

“Sorry I’m so quiet.” he said, cutting into the slight awkwardness that had been walking alongside you, “I’m kinda nervous and…we’re in public so it’s not like I can greet you how I wanted to.”

“I know.” you replied. “Me too.”

“I really want to kiss you…and I want to talk to our…little cherry.”

You smiled at his mention of how small your baby was that week, “You’re really reading those articles, huh?”

Lando answered easily, “Of course. I’m so excited. I want to be completely prepared.”

“That makes me relieved.” you admitted, “I don’t even know where to start.”

“We still have time.”

“It’s already going by so fast.”

Lando reached out to link his pinky with yours in gentle reassurance, “Don’t rush. Just be in the moment with me for a bit.”

You smiled over at him and then slid your hand into his properly.

“Is this okay?” he asked hurriedly.

You shrugged, “Yeah. I missed you. And I doubt anyone here knows me or cares enough.”

Lando ran his thumb over your knuckles, “Alright.”

You stepped closer to his side, “And if I want to hold my boyfriend’s hand, then I think I have a right to do so.”

“Of course.” Lando smiled. He resisted the urge to kiss you right in the middle of campus.

He showed you around the few buildings and where his classes were and his favourite café where he treated you to a fresh baked muffin that you shared. You made him stop at a bathroom once or twice where he waited in the hallway for you while you did your business and you would always return to him and his outstretched hand with some whispered comment about how often such a tiny being is making you have to pee in a day.

Lando wanted to explore more with you but by late-afternoon, you were feeling run-off-your-feet exhausted so he offered to continue the tour towards the dorms. He almost had to pull you by the hand into his building and to the front desk for you to sign in. The front desk employees stared at you as if wondering where they knew you from as you passed over your ID and signed the guest form. Lando kept his distance under the strangers’ watchful eyes and he held the door open for you towards the elevators.

“Think they knew me?” you asked softly with a teasing smile.

Lando pressed the elevator call button, “I think they’re missing out if they don’t know you.”

You smiled and leaned into his side. He eyed the security camera in the corner. The peacefulness of Bristol made the pressure for secrecy feel lighter and he let himself slide his arm around your waist.

His room was on the fifth floor and his roommate had said he was leaving for the weekend, meaning the cozy dorm room was left to the privacy of just the two of you. Lando scanned his key card and opened the door, gesturing you inside with a smile.

The room was quite spacious for a dorm as it included a three-piece bathroom and a little kitchenette but by the far wall there were still the two adjacent single beds on either side of the window. You could tell which side of the room was Lando’s as it was much neater compared to the Playboy posters and trashed desk of his roommate…but also the shelf that held Lando's pristine copies of your novels was a dead giveaway. You didn’t point them out but Lando noticed your lingered smile towards them before you sat down on his bed. He set your bag on his desk.

“Welcome home.” he said.

“It’s lovely.” you complimented.

He scoffed, “That’s pushing it.”

“Your side feels so homey.” you shrugged, glancing around his little half of the otherwise drab room.

Lando drifted in front of you and took your chin in his hand to gently guide your head to look up at him. One look from those sweet eyes of yours and his heart skipped a beat. He licked his lips and then leaned down to gently press his lips to yours in a chasté lingering kiss. You smiled into it and raised your hands up to the sides of his neck to hold him there a little longer, sharing a few single kisses that made your cheeks dust pink.

When he finally pulled away, you slid your hands down his chest with a bashful grin and he swiped the pad of his thumb across your lips to make sure your lipstick wasn’t smudged.

“Hi.” he greeted you again sweetly.

“Hi, you.” you grinned.

He leaned in for three more quick kisses before his attention was drifting down your body and his fingertips dusted over the front of your flannel, speaking softly, “And hi there to you too.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” you slid off his bed and unzipped your bag that was resting on his desk so you could ruffle through it, “I have baby’s picture for you.”

“Yes!” Lando stood right up beside you, eagerly peering over your shoulder as you pulled out the black and white sonogram.

You held it out to him and he took it from you to admire in both hands like it was a prize itself and your gaze drifted between the image and his face just to watch how he stared at it in awe.

“That’s real.” he breathed in near disbelief.

“Yep.” you leaned your head against his, “You could see his or her heart beating on the screen too, nearly popping out of its little chest.”

“That’s inside you.” Lando mumbled.

“Yeah. That’s our baby.” you smiled. “A little blobby baby.”

Lando glanced over at you, “I love you so much.”

You reached up to caress his flushed cheek, “I love you too.”

He kissed your lips one more time before looking back at the picture, “Can I keep this?”

“Yeah, of course. That’s your copy.”

Without even thinking twice, Lando leaned over his desk and pinned the sonogram to his cork-board alongside his few assignments and pictures; right in the centre. He stepped back to admire it for a moment and you slid your arms around his waist, giving him a chance to drape his arm around your back in return. You admired your shared artwork for a moment that looked no clearer than a Picasso but it was just as beautiful to you.

“I’m not really showing yet,” you said, “but my jeans are starting to feel a little tight.”

“Are they?” Lando looked down to where you pulled your flannel up slightly.

You took his hand and slid his two fingers into the waistband of your jeans, kind of having to really shove them in there for them to fit. The tight squeeze had Lando’s eyes widening.

“You sure you’re not showing?” he asked.

“Do you wanna check?” you offered, “I can’t see anything myself.”

“Yeah.” he stepped away from the desk and you unbuttoned your jeans and shoved them down just to the tops of your thighs and you held your flannel up around your middle, standing to the side of let him stare at you for a moment. Lando’s eyes narrowed as he focused on you and at first glance there wasn’t much there. You still looked the same as he remembered you but maybe there was the slightest added curve to your lower abdomen that hadn’t been there before. He reached out a hand to dust his fingers over it, a few centimeters under your belly button, bringing your attention to it. “There’s the slightest bump here. So, so small though.”

“Is there?” you turned to look in the full length mirror that was attached to the closet door. You ran your hand over it with a hum, “Maybe…I dunno. I think it’s too early to see still.”

Lando stepped up behind you and wrapped his arms around you, “Can’t wait until we can see him or her for real. This is such a dream come true.”

“Dream come true?” you chuckled. “You say that like you got me pregnant on purpose.”

“Of course not.” Lando countered easily, “I just was never opposed to it happening. Knew I always wanted it to be with you and only you anyway.”

You leaned your head back against his shoulder with a smile and he met you halfway for a few kisses. When you tugged your jeans back up and situated your shirt back into place, Lando drifted across the small room to the kitchenette.

“I bought you a few things.” he said.

“You bought me a few things? You didn’t have to do that.” you tisked, following after him the few steps.

He lifted a small bouquet of flowers tucked in a glass of water from the shelf first and he held them out to you with a smile, “The campus had a little flower sale the other day so I’ve been trying to keep these alive for you until you came to visit. They didn’t have peonies so I thought roses were the next best thing.”

“Oh my, you’re cute.” you chuckled and took the glass from him to smell the deep red flowers, “But these aren’t roses, love. They’re carnations.”

Lando’s face fell, “What?”

“They’re just as beautiful. Thank you.” you set your hand on his waist and leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“I really wanted to get you roses.” he frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay! Any flowers are good flowers.” you promised, shifting closer to capture his lips with yours in a quick kiss.

“I bought you one more thing.” he bent down to open the cupboard, hoping to regain himself after the flower mixup. He pulled out a bottle of red wine, unopened.

“Lan, you know I can’t-”

He jumped in easily, “It’s non-alcoholic. It might taste like shit but…thought we could try it.”

You took the bottle from him with a smile and read the label just to make sure he wasn’t pulling your leg. You always trusted him but after the flower mix up…you just had to be sure.

“Should I open it?” he offered.

You passed it back to him and kissed him as he took it from you, “Yes, please.”

Lando broke the seal on the screw-top bottle, “Okay, go get comfy and I’ll pour us some glasses.”

You returned to the bedroom side of the dorm room and pulled his blanket from the top of his bed to set it on the floor, creating a little picnic set up. With a pause as he poured the drinks, you took a second to send a text to your friends that you were doing okay and having a great time before you silenced your phone and set it face down on the bedside table.

Lando joined you once again and held out a disposable plastic cup of dark red wine to you, “It was the cheapest one they had in the store so if it’s bad, I promise you don’t have to drink it.”

“That’s okay.” you took the cup with a quiet thanks.

He opened his bedside table drawer with his now free hand that wasn’t balancing his own drink and he took out a lighter - an item that was not allowed in the dorms but one that he kept stashed away for moments like this. He flicked it on and rested the flame down against the wick of the half burnt candle on his table until it caught and then he was joining you on the floor.

“How romantic.” you giggled.

It was getting dark quickly as the sunset approached, and the reflection from the sky and the dozens of fall coloured trees from across the campus spread tones of oranges and reds through the small dorm window and across the worn carpeted floor. You cozied up closer to Lando’s side in the fading daylight and let the woodsy autumn smell of the burning candle fill the small space. It was almost a miracle that the smell didn’t send you running to the bathroom to throw up but you tried not to think about it for too long in case your body decided to change its mind on that.

Instead, you focused on your boyfriend at your side and the way he stared at you in the maroon of the sunset like you were everything. And that was truly what Lando was thinking as you sipped cheap non-alcoholic red wine out of Dixie cups together after being apart for weeks that felt like eternities. His arm draped smoothly around your shoulder and you scooted closer to him to lean into his side, his eyes fixed on your red painted lips and how he craved to kiss them.

In the privacy of his dorm room with not a person in sight, he permitted himself to be able to and he leaned in towards you to brush your lips together faintly before you were parting yours to welcome his kiss. Your lips fit together perfectly in a slow lingering kiss that had his heart doing backflips in his chest.

After a few gentle kisses, you pulled away from his lips first and your hand that wasn’t holding your cup reached up to trace the bridge of his nose as you whispered, “I love you.”

Lando smiled warmly and slid his hand over your thigh in warm circles and he pulled your legs over his lap, “I love you more.”

“I’m so glad you invited me.” you admitted quietly, “I was going fucking crazy down there. I really, really needed this…and you.”

“Me too. School sucks but I’m only sticking through it here for you and our baby.”

You caressed his face in your hand, “I’m proud of you.”

Lando blinked away the sudden dampness in his eyes and he smiled slightly to cover it, knowing you didn’t know how much he had wanted to hear you say that to him in his life. He gently took your chin in his hand and pulled your lips back on his for a few more persistent kisses. You were flushed with hormones and adoration for the man who was yours and after only a few kisses, you were pushing your tongue into his mouth.

Lando chuckled softly, shifting slightly so he could focus all on you and his warm hand ran up your leg that was draped over his lap with the hand that wasn’t holding his half-filled cup. Yours was already empty and placed behind you on the ground, giving you both hands to take to his face and hold his lips on yours for as much as you pleased.

Lando’s tongue met yours harmoniously between sensual kisses that filled the silent dorm room with the proof of your love for each other in the faint sunset illumination. Your hand tangled in the back of his hair and you tried to pull him closer to you as your need for him only grew.

Forgetting he only had one hand free, Lando tried to reach for you in return and ended up knocking his plastic cup out of his own hand and it spilt right down your flannel and white blouse underneath, staining them in vicious red. You pulled away from the kiss with a surprised gasp as the liquid seeped quickly through the fabric.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” he rushed out and quickly set his now empty cup to the side.

“That’s okay.” you assured him quickly.

“Let me get you some napkins.”

Lando started to get up but you grabbed his shirt and his arm and pulled him back into place beside you, forcing your lips on his again. He kissed you back clumsily until you were pausing just long enough to shuffle your flannel down your arms and onto the floor, quickly followed by your soiled shirt that you pulled over your head.

Lando’s wide eyes watched you excitedly as you half undressed in front of him - a sight that he had happily grown familiar with over the summer - but as his gaze locked on your chest in that lacey white bra, he almost choked on air. From the moment he had stumbled across your Instagram as a late teenager, he had been drawn to your breasts by the hormonal normalcy of the male brain and it was a silent weakness of his that he kept to himself. The summer he had with you was his chance to make the most of the way he always dreamt to worship your body. Now though? With you growing his baby inside you and thus packed full of pregnancy hormones, your breasts were nearly spilling out of your bra. Lando stared at them like he had just won the goddamn lottery.

You set a hand in front of your chest, asking him shyly, “What?”

He grabbed your wrist and yanked your hand away, “They’re huge.”

“Fuck off. I know.” you frowned, using your other hand to cover up instead. “I haven’t had a chance to go to the store and get new bras. I probably look like a cheap prostitute.”

“You do not.” Lando pulled your other hand away, “You’re fucking perfect.”

“Stop.” you blushed.

“I mean it.” he leaned in to kiss you once. “You’re gorgeous.”

“They hurt.” you told him.

“Then let me kiss them better.” he whispered against your lips.

You let out a soft giggle and he trailed his warm kisses down your neck and along your shoulder, letting his other hand caress your legs that were still draped lazily over his lap. Your eyes drifted to the window that framed a stunning view of the fading sunset over the colourful trees across the campus and although darkness was falling quickly, you found comfort in his arms. Your fingers slid into the back of his hair as he kissed over your collarbones and he linked his pinky in the band of your bra to tug to it teasingly, trailing kisses right down between your breasts.

“Is your roommate coming back tonight?” you asked quietly, letting your words blend effortlessly into the warm aroma of the dorm room.

“No,” Lando peppered soft kisses across your breasts, “Not until Sunday night.”

“Promise?”

Lando leaned up to kiss your lips, “Promise.”

You took his face in your hands and welcomed his tongue into your mouth to guide you into slow, sensual kisses that stemmed from the heat of your longing for each other. It had only been a few short weeks but it felt like an eternity all in the same. Being back with each other felt like complete relief.

Lando shifted at your side to lean in front of you a bit more, leaving your legs still draped across his as his hand caressed your thigh in your jeans. You tugged at the front of his sweater and nudged it up to get him to take it off, leaving you both only in your jeans as he captured your lips again in impatient kisses. There was no second to waste. His warm hand slid around your back to the band of your bra but you stopped him.

“Can we keep it on?” you asked. “They really hurt without support.”

“Sure. Of course.” Lando agreed easily, swallowing up your attempt at an apology with his lips. He wouldn’t hear it, you had nothing to apologize for.

You slid your palms down his bare chest and let your fingers trace the familiarity of his faint muscle that sculpted his body. He had you memorized since before he had even laid eyes on you in person but there was something about moments like this that were so different from the dreams he had conjugated in his mind in the years before. This was real and raw and you and you were no longer pixels on a screen; you were the woman of his dreams and the vessel in which his child was being nurtured and grown within.

“Y’know…” you mumbled between kisses, “I’ve been so overwhelmed and bored recently…this is the first time I’ve been horny in weeks.”

Lando chuckled out of your kiss at your confession, “Well that’s a little ego boost for me.”

You grabbed him by the back of his neck to yank his mouth back on yours, muttering messily against his lips, “Of course.”

He hummed happily into it and let his fingertips delicately caress the skin of your waist while your kisses explained the passion that words couldn’t. After a few seconds, he was moving back down your neck and you tilted your head to the side to give him room with your eyes fluttering closed to bask in the tingling feelings that filled your insides at his slow, open mouthed kisses. He sucked a gentle hickey into your collarbone in that spot that could easily be hidden once you had to return home and back to your public lifestyle. He knew the routine well.

“Oh my God.” you breathed, holding onto him around his back and around his shoulders, trying weakly to pull him even closer on the floor of his dorm room.

“I missed this.” Lando whispered as he pulled back from your chest to look you in the eye, his gaze drifting between yours and your lips. His hand toyed with the snug waistband on your jeans and when he popped the button open, you were licking back your eager smile.

“I missed this too.”

You both met halfway once more, letting your tongues lead the way through passionate dizzying kisses that had you holding his face in your hands even as he started to tug your jeans down your legs. You shifted ungracefully on the floor in front of him to get them off your bum and to your thighs and then you had to drop a hand down to tug them off the rest of the way, throwing them across the room aimlessly.

Lando’s warm palm ran up your bare leg that was still draped sweetly over his lap and the softness of your skin had him gently sinking his teeth into your bottom lip for a little nibble. You moaned softly and pulled at the back of his hair to keep him close while his greedy fingers linked in the hem of your panties to pull them down next. They too were tossed to the side without a second look and then Lando was nudging your left leg off his lap to spread you open for his eager touch.

The first graze of his fingertips against your clit had you shuddering and he swallowed it up with feverish wet kisses. You set one hand behind you while your other pulled pleadingly at the back of his neck to almost pull him in front of you with how much desire burned in your chest to feel all of him. Lando held himself up on one hand at your side and his fingers teased gentle circles over your pussy while his lips pulled sweet sounds from your throat.

He pulled back just long enough to ask quietly, “Is this safe for the baby?”

“Yeah, completely.” you answered easily, pausing to kiss him once more before explaining, “Baby is safe and cozy in there. You won’t touch him.”

“Or her.” Lando added before giving you another kiss.

“Mm, or her.” you agreed with a smile that he tasted with his own.

Lando moved his kisses back down your neck as his fingers rubbed at your clit just to pull more sweet wetness from inside you. You dripped so easily that when he slid back down to tease your cunt, you almost coated his fingers at the first touch.

“Holy fuck, you’re wet.” he groaned breathily against your neck.

“Feels ridiculously good.” you chuckled, leaning in to get his lips on yours again.

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed into your kiss as he carefully slid his middle finger inside you, feeling the warmth of your body hugging it so addictingly. Your fingers tightened in the back of his hair and you spread your legs wider for him to get deeper, moaning against his lips as they stayed locked with yours in lingering tongue-led kisses.

Lando pumped his finger into you a few times gently before asking, “Can you take another?”

“Yes, please.” you answered without hesitation.

He added his ring finger inside you and your leg that was still draped over his lap tightened over his thighs as you moaned happily into his mouth. Lando started to finger you slowly - a little nervous with you in such delicate condition - but that was perfectly fine with you. The focus of his kiss and the faint flicker of the candle nearby had your heart racing in the moment and the cautious curls of your boyfriend’s fingers inside you had your skin flushing warm.

You broke your kiss with a small whine, leaning your head back against the side of his single bed with your eyes fluttered shut, and Lando took a second to take in every inch of your body while his fingers worked steadily inside you. You looked so angelic in the fading light of the maroon toned sunset with your expression shadowed with waves of pleasure that he brought you by his loving hand. His lips dusted over your cheek and the shell of your ear, letting you feel his warm breath against your skin until it made you shiver and moan for him and your fingers stayed tangled in the side of his hair with his head so close to yours.

He was attentive to your every move like always as he honestly lived to please you; it was something he had only dreamt about for months and months. Pressing a slow kiss to your cheek, Lando groaned lightly as his eyes slid down your body to watch his hand between your gorgeously spread legs pumping steadily, attuned to the faint sound of your soaking wet pussy taking them in a consistent rhythm.

Letting the lust take over, Lando habitually whispered against your cheek, “Good girl.”

“Fuck, Lan.” you whimpered, leaning your head onto his shoulder as you hand in his hair held him close, “I need more.”

His lips captured yours in a perfect kiss or two or three until he was pulling away again, “I can give you whatever you want, baby. Wanna get on the bed?”

As his fingers pulled out of your pussy, you whined quietly and pulled his mouth on yours again for a few more pleading kisses like you couldn’t get enough of him. He would never say no to that. You finally pulled away from his lips and rested your forehead against his with a soft confession of, “I wanna suck your dick…but my gag reflex has been so horrible I might throw up on you.”

Lando chuckled, “That’s okay. I don’t need that anyway. Just want you to get what you need.”

“Mm.” you kissed him once more before shifting on the ground to face him properly and drape both your arms around his shoulders for more eager kisses, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Lando whispered, patting your thigh, “Now get on the bed.”

You pulled away from him with an eager smile and stood up from the floor in all your perfect nakedness to hop up onto his single bed just like he wanted. Lando was right behind you, only pausing a second to unzip his jeans and shove them to the floor too while you stared lustfully at him like he had always imagined. This wasn’t your first time together and he had honestly lost count of how many times you had sex since meeting but the look on your face when you stared up at him like that always felt so unreal…so perfect. He almost pinched himself.

“Head on the pillow.” he instructed gently.

You turned around so you were laying lengthways on your back on the single bed and Lando knelt onto the end, gently nudging your knees apart so he could have perfect access to every inch of you. You draped your arms above your head with a smile and he leaned down to kiss your lips before moving his kisses down your neck, over your tender breasts, and along your abdomen, lingering with one final kiss just under your navel before he was getting on his stomach. He linked his arms under your spread legs and let his lips take to your thighs, making you shiver with slow open mouthed kisses along your tender skin.

You hummed needily and dropped one hand to his hair, guiding him closer to where you craved him most and the first graze of his tongue across your pussy had your entire body flinching with a soft breath. Lando stared up at you from between your legs as he dragged his tongue in long broad strokes right up along your cunt to taste the way you dripped for his touch. He swore nothing tasted better than you and his arms looped tighter around your thighs as he gently nuzzled his face deeper to get his tongue inside you.

“Fuck, baby.” you whimpered, sliding your hand down his bedsheets to grip at them pleadingly, “That feels so good.”

Lando raised one hand up to meet yours and he laced your fingers together, pulling away from your pussy just long enough to speak to you lowly, “You’re fucking perfect.”

“Your mouth is perfect.” you breathed dizzily.

He laughed faintly as he fucked you with his tongue, lapping up everything you offered him with the flat of his tongue and the plush of his heavenly lips. You squeezed his hand in yours while your other tugged at his hair, urging him to move his mouth up to your aching clit. When he did - teasing it faintly with the tip of his tongue - your head tossed back against the pillow with a whimpered moan.

“Lando.” you breathed beautifully.

He moaned up against you before his tongue was flicking insistently at your clit, hitting that perfect angle that had one of your legs tossing around his back for your heel to press into his shoulder. You whimpered loudly to the ceiling desperately with your hips rutting against his mouth and Lando’s mind flashed with the thought of his neighbours hearing you through his paper thin dorm walls but for some reason, that didn’t bother him in the slightest. Instead, he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked on it, forcing you to cry out blissfully at his touch while your hand gripped tighter to his.

Lando rubbed his thumb over your knuckles lovingly, staring up at you from his rightful spot between your legs as he kissed your clit and let his tongue tend to it in soft little strokes. You were nearly pushing your hips off the bed to rub yourself against his face as the most beautiful moans spilled from your lips, praising him with the sounds of how good he made you feel. Your imagination and fading memories didn’t do him justice when you were back home in lonely Monte Carlo, touching yourself to unfulfilled conclusions.

“Oh, Lando.” you moaned heavenly, your chest heaving in your bra that was two sizes too small.

The way you said his name like that always got him good and Lando’s eyes literally rolled as he shut them in pleasure of his own and he ground against his bed slightly to tend to his aching cock while eating you out. His hand squeezed yours as he moaned against your pussy and you tore your hand from his hair to fist the pillow above your head instead.

“Want me to make you cum, sweetheart?” Lando taunted breathily against your clit between sloppy licks and kisses.

“Mm, no.” you answered.

Lando’s eyes raised to your face in surprise, “No?”

You giggled and pulled your legs back and he lifted his head from down your body in slight confusion until you were curling your finger at him, “C’mere.”

He licked away his cheeky grin and crawled up your naked body to meet your lips in a passionate kiss. You slid your hands up his waist and over his chest to his shoulders and found pleasure on his lips and tongue, tasting yourself in his kiss. But then you were dancing your fingertips down his back once more and you grabbed to snug handfuls of his ass, tugging his body right down on top of yours as you kissed each other breathless.

“Mm, baby.” Lando sighed, taking that moment to grind up against you so the aching tent in his underwear slid effortlessly across your soaked cunt.

You pushed at the waistband of his briefs, “Take these off.”

“Yes, ma’am.” he chuckled, sitting back on his knees so he could shuffle his underwear down his legs and then drop them to the floor all while you sat up to keep your lustful kisses continuing along his neck.

Before he could fall back on top of you again, you took the initiative to guide him by his shoulders to flip him over and you smoothly tossed your leg over his waist to straddle him. Lando stared up at you wide-eyed and his hands fell gently against your bare thighs on either side of his body while your feather-soft fingertip traced the bridge of his nose and the shape of his lips. He was enamoured by you and before he could speak to tell you just that, you were grabbing his wrists and pinning them down against the pillow he laid on as your lips shoved onto his.

He moaned lowly into your messy kiss, more than happy to be trapped underneath your naked body and feeling the slick of your pussy against his stomach. His mouth pushed back against yours for more of those dizzying kisses but after a few seconds, you sunk your teeth into his bottom lip and sat back.

“Let me get a condom.” Lando spoke breathily, his eyelids heavy with lust from your kiss.

You giggled sweetly and ran your thumbs over his palms from where you held him down, “I’m already knocked up…what do we need one for?”

“Shit, you’re right.” Lando laughed quietly. “That’s the best news.”

You leaned down to kiss him a few more times.

Lando sighed out of your kiss with a fair request, “My dick is fucking aching. Can you put it in now?”

Laughing sweetly at his desperation, you sat back once more and dragged your hands down his chest in warm caresses of his bare skin, making him wait just a few more seconds for it. With his arms free, Lando set his hands on your waist again and trailed his cautious fingers over your lower abdomen to trace the very faint curve that showed there. A content smile perked at his lips and you paused for a moment to just stare down at him and his happiness.

“That’s our baby.” you whispered.

“I love you.” Lando breathed, letting you shift yourself on top of him so you were hovered over his lap.

You took his cock in your gentle hand, lifting it off his pelvis, and you carefully angled it up against your swollen pussy, “I love you too.”

Lando’s mouth fell open slightly as you sank down on him cautiously, slowly, savouring every inch of him. You felt so much warmer…so much softer than he remembered and his head dropped back against the pillow with a pretty moan of your name. Your gentle hands rubbed up his chest again and back down as you carefully bottomed out on top of him - still a little cautious yourself about the tiny cherry sized baby nestled safely in your womb, even if the doctor did tell you it was safe.

“Hey, you.” you called gently, urging Lando to meet your gaze, “This is our first time since you asked me to be your girlfriend.”

“Oh, yeah.” an honest smile spread across Lando’s proud face and he caressed your thighs lovingly, “Well, you, my beautiful girlfriend, feel so fucking good.”

“And you, my gorgeous boyfriend, feel incredible inside me.” you whispered as you leaned down to kiss him again.

You shared a few sweet kisses before you were sitting up straight again and Lando’s hands soaked up your body greedily, following the cautious swirl of your hips as you started to move on top of him. It had been weeks since you had found yourself like that - nine weeks to be specific, proven by the little life growing inside you - and your hormonal mess of a mind had tears pricking your eyes at the relief of it all.

“Oh my God. Fuck.” you sighed, letting your head fall back as your eyes fluttered closed and you found a gentle pattern of your hips to be able to feel him pressed up so perfectly inside you.

“Good girl.” Lando praised you adoringly, “Gimme a little more, sweetheart, come on.”

You pressed one hand against his stomach for a bit of stability and rested your other on his thigh behind you so you had some support to start to bounce on his dick in short, deep strokes.

“Yes, that’s it.” he breathed, licking his lips before his teeth sunk down into his bottom one.

He stared up at you like you were the universe, almost disbelieving that you were really truly there, riding him on the bed he once spent long nights only imagining this in. His gentle moans fell like heaven from his throat and his hands on your waist helped to guide you in your little movements that had your breasts bouncing in your white lace bra.

“Holy fuck.” Lando exhaled, suddenly feeling like he was going to lose it like a damn virgin again because it was all too good to be true.

“God, Lando-” you moaned out sweetly, starting to speed yourself up a little until your ass was starting to clap against his thighs each time you bottomed out. “Feels so good.”

He caressed your beautiful body with his warm hands before his thumb dropped down to brush over your clit. Your hips shuttered and you let out a pitchy whimper that had him starting to swirl gentle circles on that spot, helping you along as you ground against his hand and his dick.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum.” you cried out shakily, your face scrunching up as your head fell forwards with the intensity of that coil of warmth building within you.

You looked angelic on top of him like that and the way your pussy was throbbing tightly around him nearly had Lando losing it himself in seconds. He gaped up at you adoringly and kept his thumb against your clit as you kept the consistency of your bounces on his bed that made the cheap mattress and bed frame creak underneath you.

“Good girl.” Lando whispered.

He was about to give you permission to cum, his mouth open and ready to form the words, when the door opened and his roommate walked in. Lando never in his life had ever thought he would ever in his right mind throw you off of him but you landed with a gasp at his side with the blanket from the end of the bed tugged over both of your naked bodies in a protective flash.

His roommate had stopped immediately in the small and nearly dark entryway with his bag over his shoulder when he noticed the scene, the door shutting loudly behind him, “Shit, man, sorry. I didn’t know you were having company.”

With you hiding under the blanket with only your feet poking out of the bottom, Lando could nearly taste the embarrassment and the near fear that thudded his heart, trying to keep his voice steady as he spoke to his roommate, “I thought you were with your girlfriend this weekend.”

“Her friend got dumped so she kicked me out for a girl’s night or some shit.” he explained with a shrug and a half-proud smirk, “I’ll crash at a friend’s dorm tonight. Don’t let me stop you.”

Lando didn’t know what to say to that so he simply gave a half nod in understanding and then the door was shut again and you were alone. There was a beat of silence as the both of you simply processed what had just happened before Lando was looking down to you cowering under the blanket on his left. He gently pulled at the fabric to see your face, “He’s gone.”

“What the fuck.” you breathed, staring up at him wide-eyed and frightful, “That’s so fucking embarrassing.”

“I know,” Lando muttered, “I’ve never gone soft faster in my life.”

You cracked a half smile and lifted up the blanket that was aimlessly also tossed over his middle to get a look at the validity of his statement. He playfully smacked your hand away and you shuffled closer to drape yourself against his body under the blanket, resting your hand on his chest as your lips were drawn to his for a fleeting kiss.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered.

“Not your fault, lover.” you answered quietly.

“I’ve walked in on that guy and his girlfriend an embarrassing amount of times. Dude probably thought I was celebate so I guess this makes me look a little cooler.”

You giggled at Lando’s exasperation and he danced his fingers over your back to send sweet shivers up your spine. You both stared at each other for a moment and he brushed your hair out of your face and then ran his finger over your lips, tapping them gently.

“Want me to go down on you or something?” he offered.

“I’m okay.” you said, “Stranger danger just turned me off majorly.”

“Sorry.”

You kissed him again, “That’s okay. I’ll take a glass of water though?”

“Of course.”

Lando shifted out from beside you and he got up from the bed to retrieve his underwear from the floor. You watched him pull them on when a domestic grin on your face with the dorm room dimmed to the light of the flickering candle and the campus lights from outside the fifth floor window. Lando picked up your cups from earlier that had been left on the floor in your rush and he returned them to the garbage in the kitchenette to pour you a fresh glass of water.

While he did so, you reached for your phone on the bedside table only to find your screen filled with notifications from your best friends - both missed calls and dozens of messages. You could only read the most recent few in your sudden panic,

oscarpiastri: Hello?? oscarpiastri: Please pick up oscarpiastri: Please please please charles_leclerc: Mate I’m about to come over there and break down his door charles_leclerc: Neither of you are answering oscarpiastri: It’s been fifteen minutes; where are you??? lilymhe: Come on girl lilymhe: Please pick up maxverstappen01: This is serious maxverstappen01: Horrible time to keep your phone on silent charles_leclerc: We don’t know what to do mate PLEASE lilymhe: Management is calling ME now maxverstappen01: I can help if you call me maxverstappen01: Call me first, okay? As soon as you get these oscarpiastri: Hello????

“Oh my God.” you blurted out at the frightening insistence of your best friends and the dozens of calls from them and your management team that were waiting for you. The near fear in your voice had Lando looking over at you from across the small room.

“What is it?” he asked cluelessly, easily seeing the pale complexion of your face even in the darkened room.

“Do you have texts from my friends?” you didn’t wait for his answer before you were reaching for his phone from the bedside table too. Sure enough, his phone screen was littered with missed messages from your friends. Not to the same extent, but just as dire.

Before you could react any further, another call came through on your phone and Max’s name was taking up your screen. You answered without an ounce of hesitation.

“Max? What the fuck is going on?” you blurted out quickly.

“Oh my God, she answered.” Max announced to the rest of your group, earning muffled shouts and pleas and questions from them in the background. He focused back on you, “Did you see yet?”

“See what? I just saw a million messages from you guys and missed calls from management and I’m kinda freaking out. What’s happening?”

Lando passed you your requested cup of water as he sat on the edge of the bed beside you but you just set the drink on the table to focus on your conversation.

Max spoke calmly through the phone that you were clutching so hard in your hand that your knuckles were turning white, “This can easily be fixed, okay? So just take a breath and don’t go into a panic when I tell you.”

“Max!” you snapped. “Tell me.”

“Someone got a picture of you and Lando today on campus. You’re holding hands. It’s obviously you. It’s everywhere.”

You felt like the air had just been ripped from your lungs.

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he stared at you and the look of complete stone cold fear on your face. He reached out to set a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hello?” Max spoke through the phone.

“I’m fucked.” you blurted out quietly. “Oh God, I’m fucked. PR is going to kill me.”

“Hey, nothing I know you can’t handle.” Max was right there with his genuine advice, “Be honest. Make it known you’re open to altering the trajectory of your public image if it means also getting the relationship you want. Hold your ground but be willing to compromise at least somewhat.”

“Yeah.” you breathed.

The call beeped and you tore your phone from your ear to see your management office number calling through. You went back to Max.

“That’s them. I’ll text you.”

“Ok. You got this.”

You didn’t answer before ending the call to take the new one.

You sat up as if needing to feign professionalism even when you were naked and hiding in your secret boyfriend’s dorm room bed, “Hello?”

“There you are! Where have you been? We’ve been calling for ages!” your manager said sternly through the phone.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I was in the shower.” you lied expertly.

Lando mouthed to you, “What’s going on?”

You held your finger to your lips before putting the call on speaker so he could eavesdrop.

Your manager questioned you quickly, “Did you see the post?”

“No, but my team told me about it. As soon as I heard, you called through.”

“You told us this was a girl’s trip. Who is this man you’re with this weekend? Is that the kid from the summer internship?”

Lando’s entire face fell in shock and he stared right into your eyes to gauge your reaction. You didn’t have time to feel anything. It came with the job.

“He’s…just…”

“Don��t lie to us. I need you to tell me the whole truth. We want to help you, but you need to be honest with us. We are your team.”

“Yeah.” you confessed, speaking to your phone but staring directly into Lando’s eyes, “It’s the guy from the summer internship. We’ve been…kinda seeing each other.”

“Kinda seeing each other? What does that mean? Does he even know how this all works? Because clearly he’s hindering your ability to keep your public image how we agreed. What about Pierre? Huh?”

“Pierre isn’t real and you know that.” you said as calmly as you could muster.

“You signed a contract.”

“When I was nineteen!”

“It’s still legally binding and pulling a stunt like this is unacceptable.”

You were quick to defend yourself, “It’s driving me crazy being in a fake relationship when I want a real one. Lando knows about it all and the fact that it’s been months with no leak to press is just proof that he’s trustworthy.”

“For now.”

“But-”

“We need you on the next flight back to Monaco. We have to talk about this in person and discuss your statement to the public. This isn’t going to look good on you. The entire internet thinks you’re a cheater. Next thing you know it’ll be a trend to burn your books. Get home. Immediately.”

“Okay.” you breathed.

The call disconnected. You threw your phone to the end of the bed and hid your face in your hands, letting your shocked tension release with a wave of tears. You cried loudly as your body trembled with anxiety and Lando hurried to move to your side and he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your head.

“It’s okay.” he whispered, trying his best to comfort you.

“I’m so scared.” you confessed, keeping your head hidden in your hands so he didn’t have to see how you sobbed.

“What’s there to be scared about?” Lando tried.

“Losing you!” you looked at him with tears streaking down your cheeks, “And what about our baby?”

“Hey,” Lando reached both hands up to wipe your cheeks with his thumbs, “Nothing is going to happen to our baby. And if someone says something, you tell me, and I’ll be right there to kick their ass, okay?”

You melted into his arms and clung onto him as you cried, “I don’t wanna go!”

“It’s okay.” he rubbed your back, “We’ll have another weekend. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you.” you whimpered, ducking your face in his neck.

“I love you.” he promised, “But you gotta go. Don’t want you to get in more trouble, okay?”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” he sighed sadly and ran his fingers through your hair, “You are so strong and you know just how to fight for what you need. For you and for our baby, okay? Don’t let them take advantage of you.”

You sniffled and nodded against his shoulder.

“And call me as much as you want, okay?”

You sat back from him and nodded again and he kissed the tears from your cheeks before leaving one last one to your lips. In all reality, he dreaded seeing you go so soon only to be forced into some tense discourse about contracts and PR but he wouldn’t be doing his job as your biggest supporter if he held you back from what you had to do.

You sighed and reached for your phone again, wiping your eyes with the heel of your palm as you opened up your group chat with your best friends.

-Meet me on campus where we were dropped off earlier. We have to go back to Monaco asap oscarpiastri: We’re already on our way to you maxverstappen01: We’ll be outside the dorms in a few minutes charles_leclerc: Hang in there :( lilymhe: Everything’s going to be okay maxverstappen01: We’ll make a game plan on the plane

Lando offered you your cup of water again but you shook your head and slid past him to get off the bed and find your clothes. He watched helplessly as you dressed and sniffled every now and then through your drying tears, his heart aching with desperation to just take away all the hurt and struggle from your life. The life that he once thought to be so picture-perfect as an outsider.

When you were dressed, shoes on, and untouched bag over your shoulder, you turned to him, “Okay…come kiss me goodbye.”

Lando’s bottom lip trembled and he got up from his bed to wrap you up in his arms. You clung onto each other for a few seconds as if trying to hold onto that moment as long as you could before the uncertainty of the future would take over. You leaned back to get your lips on his, sliding your hand around the side of his neck to hold him there as you kissed him sweetly for a few long seconds. When you pulled away, you sighed and looked to the ground.

The was a honk from outside. The taxi with your friends.

“I love you.” Lando said.

“I love you.” you gave him one more kiss before starting to walk to the door.

Quickly, he grabbed your hand to stop you. Confused, you glanced back at him and he crouched in front of you to push up the bottom of your wine-stained shirt and he set a tender hand against the very faint curve of your lower abdomen that was growing. He leaned in and kissed it, whispering even if the baby couldn’t even hear yet, “And I love you too.”

You tugged at his hand that still held yours, your bottom lip trembling and eyes burning with tears as you croaked out, “Okay, let me go.”

Lando followed you into the hallway lined with bright fluorescent lights that made you both squint. You took a few steps away from his room before turning back for one last look. He was standing there in only his boxers, half still in his room, his face flickered with a hollow-eyed expression of worry and exhaustion and you wanted to cry for him. You wanted to cry for the both of you.

“I’d give it all up for you.” you whispered.

You turned away before the moment grew more difficult, leaving behind the first man you truly loved and your bouquet of red carnations.

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mi6015-mez · 7 months ago

Text

Building up the shots

I need to start working on the interior of this building, because that's where one of my shots is going to take place, I shouldn't need to model an entire room interior, just the areas that's visible by the camera

This building view is going to replace this shot, because it's a bit of random shot, it's just up in the air for no reason, when it looks like it's a the height where an office building would be, so why not having be the view from the window

The new one, will be a view from the building, that way we are looking at him through the glass, which will also give me a chance to experiment with glass reflections, which should be fun

So I'm trying out some HDRI lighting, but the thing about this is, I have to try and find the optimal position for all 3 areas that I'm going to have a camera in, because some areas might be covered in shadow, but then shifting it for each scene would cause the shadows to cast in the wrong direction, so I'm just going to have to find the optimal position for all shots

Now I've started making an office space, keeping the desks relatively simple, nothing special. I've also added in some window frames so that you can tell that there's actually a window there and not just a gaping hole

Now, I've taking some assets from previous projects for the table, this just saves time on modelling, and it's okay because I've already modelled these assets in the past, so it would be a waste not to include them, when they'd be perfect for a desk!

I've also decided to start modelling a laptop, because what work desk, doesn't have a laptop in 2024. The overall shape for a laptop, is really simple, it's just a bunch of rectangles, then for the keys, I just had to lay them out exactly like they are on a normal qwerty keyboard

I've also decided to make each of the keys as textures in illustrator because I really thought that it would take it that step further, I know that it's a time consuming task but I really want to see how it will turn out

when making the keys, I decided to UV wrap the keys as the are all rectangular or square shapes, so it ended up being faster than using a decal, I also discovered this tool that lets me transfer the attributes of my UV's to another object with the same geometry so I only had to UV unwarp 1 of each shape

this is the UV, the other sides of the keys are all one solid colour so I just put those to the side and then had the design match up with the top face

I made the keys in adobe illustrator

some where simple, others had more complex designs, but they were all able to be made in illustrator, despite my knowledge being very minimal. So while, yes this was really time consuming to make all these keys, at the same time I've learned more about illustrator and that might come in handy in the future

Here's how the laptop turned out, I really like how the keys turned out, even if you can barely notice them in the final render, I'm sure someone will notice my efforts

And then the final shot, it's looking pretty good now, of course I haven't made the other office buildings yet, but once I do, this scene will be ready for rendering

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casspurrjoybell-33 · 10 months ago

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Wreckless - The Package

*Warning Adult Content*

Emmett

I spent the rest of the day doing laundry in my new rocket-ship washer, playing with Marten, watching YouTube and managing to install the water line I needed for the fridge and stocking it well.

I'm not sure when I got so old but really... I was never wild and crazy.

Whatever bit of rebellious young man I ever had in me, was handled quite thoroughly by the army.

Once I got home... I'd had enough of everything... teh bars, noise, people, danger... I'm very happy in my little nest.

Finnegan texts me, apologizing again and thanking me for lunch and dessert.

It didn't go according to plan... I'd hoped to have a sweet, loving session that we both enjoyed but I didn't get him off because after the argument, we had very little time but that's okay.

He didn't seem to mind and he has an amazon package arriving today.

Emmett Locke: You're welcome. You have a package waiting for you at home. Feel free to use or not use it to your heart's content.

Finnegan Walker: Interest piqued. Tell me?

And ruin the fun I'm having?

Besides, maybe it'll help distract him during interviews.

Emmett Locke: No.

Finnegan Walker: Something I can use, not wear? Huh, no idea.

Nope, his cute new undies and t-shirt are coming to my place.

I found him a 'little' matching set that I think he'll love.

A little... I'm funny.

Three hours later he calls me and he's laughing.

"You got me a unicorn dildo?"

"You mentioned it, not me. When I saw it, I had to get it for you."

"And it's rainbow coloured."

A definite benefit.

"They had three sizes. I hope you enjoy this one since I couldn't take care of you at the office."

"It's huge. A smaller one would have been plenty."

"That's the medium size."

"WHAT? They make a bigger one than this? You're fucking with me, right?"

No I'm not.

That's the whole point.

"I swear, Emmett"

He suddenly sounds shy.

"Can you... I mean can we talk while I uh... you know?"

Is he really asking that?

Has anyone ever... EVER... said no to that? Ever?

"Of course darling. Facetime too, if you want."

"Not sure I can handle that, no, no, you'll have to settle for my voice. I have to get changed first though and take my contacts out, you know."

"Prep, yes, yes you do that. Call me back whenever."

I grab my laptop and pull up the picture so I can really visualize everything he's saying and then pull out my favorite dildo.

It's been awhile and this sounds fun, especially if he's on the other end of the line doing the same as me.

He doesn't make me wait too long.

"Hey darling."

"Hi. I'm on my bed."

He's so cute.

"Funny, so am I. I'm on my side and am about to lube up."

"Wait, you're going to...? You're going to play too?"

"If you don't mind. I promise I'll pay lots of attention to you."

"Of course I don't mind Emmett. I just... no, it's nice. I haven't done this, phone-sex I mean, in like a million years and I was SO bad at it last time."

He seems to have no idea how incredibly sexy he is.

"I doubt that. Are you going to get yourself hard first?"

"Already am. I've been sort of miserable since lunch. Not that I mind," he adds.

"Yeah... But I'm... um... on my front and I'm rubbing against the sheets."

That explains the rustling and it's a nice visual.

Very nice.

"Do they feel good against your cock, Finny?"

"Hmm... I wanna suck on it. I wonder what the spiral will feel like."

"You'll have to twist it once it's nice and deep inside your ass, Finny."

It's the perfect time to shoot some lube up my ass and I can't help but moan.

Yes, it's been way too long.

"Suck on it. Do it while I start working this dildo in. I'm going to be so damn tight, Finnegan, it's going to take me awhile."

"Holy SHIT you're... Oh God I thought you were going to jerk off... I mean... Oh God you're playing... I mean you're...?"

"I'm gonna fuck myself just like you are, yeah. How deep in your mouth did you get, hmm? What color?"

"Ooh... Do you know the...? Of course you do. Most of the orange. I can do most of the orange without gagging."

"You're such a good boy. Lick it for me... all the way from the bottom to the tip."

He moans and I imagine he's doing it to my cock.

I love his tongue and lips around my length.

"I bet you can get it into your ass that deep as well.... don't you think? You'll need lots of lube babe, remember that sex-toys aren't supposed to hurt."

"No, that's your job. I remember, Emmett."

I shiver and push the sex-toy in a bit further... until I can really feel the nice stretch.

"Oh damn... that feels so good. Yes."

"You sound so good, Emmett. You're breathing hard."

"That's because my ass feels good and I'm stroking my cock. I want you to lube up the horn and rub the tip along your pretty little slit."

"Okay. I will."

It takes him a moment but I know as soon as it's pressing against him because he sighs.

"Feels so good."

"Do you want it? Keep teasing yourself with it until you really, really need it... until you can't stand not having it inside you."

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xtrablak674 · 2 years ago

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What Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up?

When I get there, I will tell you.

Shit, I am fully grown and I still don't have a clue how to answer to this question. It's not that I wasn't decisive as a kid or even a young adult, I just never really got to one definitive answer.

My first career was stage management. I was in a performing arts high school and though I enjoyed performing, it didn't seem like a solid option as a career. Since it was simple, I made the transition to working backstage, then stage managing in my senior year, as opposed to being on stage for our Spring drama festival, the rite of passage for all drama majors to pass through before graduating.

And like most things over the course of my life, I was very focused and thorough about this. Stage managing an off off Broadway show during my senior year, and I think I was an intern at the Roundabout Theatre Company at the same time. I wanted to get started on my resume early. Then went off to Ithaca College for their theatre program with a focus on stage craft and management.

Broadway was the pinnacle of this less than a decade pursuit, I was the production assistant on a Lincoln Center Theatre production and I had arrived! It was impossible to even consider off off Broadway again, after seeing how glorious it was working on a production with an actual budget and a full staff. As I have mentioned before I hadn't really paid attention to the nepotism thing, and didn't work my budding connections to get a more permanent place on Broadway like a contemporary of mine did. So I left theatre all together for the corporate world and never looked back.

My second career as I like to phrase it in the press releases was advertising. Albeit that is where I ended up, its not necessarily the destination I had in mind. I applied to a temp agency, and albeit I had a very impressive resume for a young person having worked in one field since they were in high school, I didn't necessarily have all the things required for working in an office setting, I wasn't that far removed. Just needed maybe a little better typing speed and a couple of more applications to learn, but I was a quick study.

My big jump-off was being assigned to an agency known as Kirshenbaum Bond & Partners, at the time I was sent there initially just to set up food for meetings, subbing in for the regular person who did that job but was away. As I sat to get my timesheet signed for the day, Janet Koss my supervisor noticed me on my laptop, which I had bought really just to show off, I was so proud I had save my home pay on my European tour with Black & Blue and bought my first real Apple computer brand new!

She asked me what kind of programs I had on my computer and if I knew them, I said yet. I have Word, Excel, Quark, Illustrator, Photoshop, you know the basics. She asked do you know how to desktop publish, I said yes I had worked on newsletters and flyers for several non profits I had volunteered with, and put out my own zine to my college friends. She said why don't you come in again tomorrow.

I left this agency three and a half year later as the department head of the interactive department, with a staff of seven to ten people working under me.

Now my recent inheritance has given me the option of not working. I still sometimes go through mixed feelings about this. Because even though I always joked about a trust fund, well partly. I enjoyed working, I enjoy solving problems, I enjoyed smoothing out issues for my co-workers to make everyone's job easier. I adored shocking folks with what my hair style would be and what outfit I would be wear everyday, adding a bit of colour to everyone's day. Albeit I am not one for shallow interactions, I loved the surface level social interactions with my fellow employees.

Which is a reason the whole work from home thing isn't very attractive to me, albeit my home is beautiful and I live alone, if I am going to work with folks I want them to experience the full me, not just a 2D version on a Zoom call or my digital fingerprints in the Slack channel.

Since I am a childless bachelor, work was one the places I socialized to a point, I always drew very strict boundaries around work. When the work-day ended I was off the clock, no emails, no drinks, no going out to the club with my co-workers. I had and have a very rigid boundary there, not to say I haven't become friends with co-workers I just think appropriate boundaries are very important to a good working relationship, so no one's feelings are hurt or treated inappropriately.

But back to the start of all this, KIDS DON'T GROW UP, its a trap! And its also okay not to know what you want to be when you do grow up, there are a lot of us grown-ups who still haven't a clue what we really want to do, and some of us end up trying a little of everything or other stay with something that doesn't necessarily float their boats, but pays the bills. Find what works for you, and hopefully something that brings you joy, life is just too damned short for you to be stuck doing a job for thirty forty years that didn't bring you anything but a check.

[Photo by Brown Estate]

#What do you want to be #career #job #grow up #adulting #working #dont grow up #career goals

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finelinevogue · 3 years ago

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he’s so vogue

Description - you are the journalist for the new Harry Styles December Vogue Issue

A/N - how is everyone doing? hope you enjoy! if you have any requests please feel free to ask. love you all and have a lovely rest of the week!

warnings: swearing

[masterlist]

Being a journalist for Vogue was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

After 3 years of studying English Literature at Surrey University, you never thought, only a year after, you'd be working as an apprentice at Vogue UK. If it weren't for your Aunty, who worked in the fashion design section at Vogue HQ, then you'd no doubt still be a broke-ass, single, lonely student. Ok, lonely you still were but your job was so full-on that you didn't have time for a relationship.

Two years into your apprenticeship you were promoted to an official member of the team, and then another two years later you got promoted to team leader in your department of journalism, and editing; The Media - or as you like to call it - "The Celeb Goss". You were beyond happy with your job and found such passion in every article your wrote. Whether it be about a new celebrity romance or the collapse of one, you found a way to story-tell in such a meditated way that everyone loved your pieces.

That's why the Harry Styles had requested you to be the one to interview him.

Of course you'd written about A-list celebrities in the past, producing articles on pregnancy rumours, or engagements, or breakups, but you'd never met them before authoring an article. You'd met plenty of D-list celebrities who thought they were mega famous, but if you mentioned their names people would turn around and ask "who?".

This is why interviewing Harry Styles was a massive thing for you.

Not very often did you get to do work out in the field, especially in these covid infested days, but nevertheless it was your favourite part of the job. Getting to meet the people you were writing about was completely refreshing, allowing you to obtain a clearer outlook on which direction to take on your journal piece.

You were asked to go to Stonehenge, where the photoshoot was being filmed, as your office of interview. Even though you'd lived in the UK all your life, you'd never actually been to Stonehenge. It wasn't really on your bucket-list, but it was a pleasure to get to see it all the same.

Being the prepared interviewer you were, you'd prepared an array of questions that you were set on asking Harry. You'd never met him before, but after much googling and youtubing of him prior to meeting him today you would already be confident in saying he's the most brilliant man to ever exist. You were really nervous that you were going to screw this interview up and make a terrible mess in front of Harry Styles.

"Lisa! What if I accidentally say something I shouldn't?" You ran your stressed hands through your hair.

This whole morning had been frantic. It had started off by you waking up late, no thanks to Lisa, your best-friend and co-worker, pressing snooze on the alarm. You wanted to look professional today so you'd put on your best shirt - only to spill coffee down it ten minutes later. So now, you smelt of coffee and were wearing what was left in your wardrobe - and it wasn't much. The only things left clean were a pair of pink corduroy flares and some, pastel coloured, graphic t-shirt to go with it.

"You won't. Stop being so negative." Lisa rolled her eyes, probably fed up with the amount of winging she'd heard from you this morning - and you'd only been awake an hour.

"My outfit is hardly professional either." You huffed, pouring the rest of your, second, coffee down the drain.

"Well I think you look gorgeous." Lisa stated, whilst putting her breakfast bar wrapper in the bin.

You and Lisa were back and forth about you stressing, and such, for about half an hour before you had to leave. You had a great panic about losing your glasses too. You could see without them up close, but for long distance viewing and reading you were practically blind. You were taking Lisa's car, since she didn't think you were emotionally stable enough to drive. Lisa was the creative director on the set, and thank goodness she was so you could at least ramble to someone.

After a two hour drive up from London, you arrived at Stonehenge and it was freezing. Although the sun was out, it did nothing to keep your body heated. The journey up had been nice because you sat in your nicely heated car, chatting away with Lisa and blasting some Harry Styles out of the speaker. You'd made it through the first album, and the second one up to Canyon Moon before reaching your destination.

Upon arriving you could just about, without glasses, make out about 15 other cars, arranged at the bottom of a hill. There was an array of Audis and BMWs, a few Range Rovers, which you placed your bets on one was Harrys, and a green, vintage, Jaguar which was most likely belonging to the fashion editor or something. There was also a modern barn, perched at the foot of the hill, which was where Harry would be getting changed in to his various different outfits.

It took you a moment to register that Lisa had parked and was already clambering out of the car, making you look a little idiotic still blankly staring at the beautiful scenes in front, and around, of you.

But it was still bloody freezing.

You jogged a little to the boot and whipped out your white cardigan. Originally you'd thought that this would've been enough to keep you warm, but now you were starting to think otherwise.

The atmosphere here was amazing. People were rushing around left, right and centre loading, and unloading, various pieces of equipment and clothes. You caught sight of brightly coloured fabrics being carried to and from various places. There were the camera crew, and presumably director, all chatting amongst themselves. The smell of the very fresh air was so lush that you'd forgotten what it smelt like - especially after years in London.

You grabbed your bag from the boot, which had your notes, recording kit and laptop stuffed inside, before locking the car and following Lisa in to the barn.

It was lovely and warm inside - a completely different climate to than the outside. It was as if it was Bali inside and Antarctica outside. Better Bali than Antarctica though.

"Ok. Let's put our stuff down over here and then go find people we need to meet and such." Lisa instructed, you still too in awe of the place to fully comprehend what was going on.

You followed Lisa and you two ended up dropping off your stuff next to some other bags. You took a liking to the purse next to your stuff. Next to your bag, it made yours seem ancient - like it was worth nothing more than a penny. It was luscious and a beautiful baby blue colour. You softly ran your hands over it, finding satisfaction in how smooth and subtle it was.

"Hope you're not planning on stealing that, love." A manly voice appeared from behind you. You whipped around to see who's bag you'd been messing with, and it was just your luck that it was to be Harry Styles'. Of all the people's it could've been it had to be his.

Perfect.

He looked dashing. He was in black flares and his iconic 'But daddy i love him', t-shirt, along with a huge green anorak. His hair was prettily clipped back with a pink clip, presumably placed there to gave his curls greater volume. In his hand he had a pink toothbrush and you guessed he'd come back over to put it away in his bag - only to find you caressing it instead.

"Oh - no, no. Not at all. I - uh - I just thought it was beautiful." You stammered over your words, choosing them carefully to try and make you look less like an active criminal.

"Mhm." Harry nodded whilst looking you up and down, most likely judging why a peasant like you, in comparison to him, was touching his expensive property. "Well, I love your flares darlin'." Harry looked down at your trousers, his compliment making you blush a little.

"Thank you. That wasn't professional, and neither is my outfit, I know, and I apologise." You added, because you knew that if your boss knew you turned up today the way you did she would give you a right bollocking - and potentially even fire you.

"Never apologise for flares. You look amazing." Gemma perked up, making you feel more self conscious surrounded by all these other beautiful women. Gemma was in a slouchy, knitted, jumper and basic jeans - no doubt all from shops beyond your budget - and yet she looked like a model fit for the runway for Vogue.

"Okay, sorry." You apologised again, to which you, creepily, got the exact same, stern, look from the Styles siblings at the same time.

"My stylist, Harry, introduced me to big pants. He offered whether I wanted to try a pair of flares, and I was like, 'Flares? That's fucking crazy'!" Harry laughed as he told his story, earning a laugh out of you too. "Now they're my favourite item of clothing. Have a whole wardrobe dedicated to them."

"I wish he was joking." Gemma laughed at her brother and his flare obsession.

"Well you do look handsome in them, so I understand why." Your words rolls off your tongue before you could even comprehend what you were saying. Only after you finished your sentence did you completely intake what you'd just said.

"Good start." Lisa giggled to you, before turning to walk over to the coffee station. It was a help-yourself coffee bar and you knew that you were going to bed at least five cups to get over the last five minutes alone. You'd probably drain the station before letting anyone else have any.

"Oh god." You awkwardly mumbled, not daring to see how weirdly Harry would be looking at you, before walking off outside.

You had spent less than 10 minutes here and yet you'd never felt like a bigger clown. Joining the circus had never been so easy.

The outside wind hit you like a powerful leaf blower, and your hair blew around like crazy - most likely compiling into a birds nest on the top of your head.

Today was supposed to be the start of something great. Your hopes were set on a promotion from your written masterpiece, whilst enjoying the company of one of the most handsome, most lovely, most talented men of this century. Those hopes seemed a little too distant now. They seemed to mock you, as if to laugh at how you ever thought you were going to be any more successful. You'd completely, in more ways than one, made a fool of yourself in front of your interviewee, you were so underdressed, you were caught fondling his Gucci purse and you were still bloody cold.

It all felt too unprofessional for a job where professional was practically the driving force of the company.

You leaned against the barn, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself. You were a master in over-thinking, but unfortunately that wasn't something you could add to your resumé. You let your eyes close and the other senses come alive for a few moments. The sounds of distant sheep and the smell of the cold wind were just two of the senses that allowed you to take a step back for a minute, and breathe.

"Thank you." A voice interrupted you from your attempt of quick meditation. You looked to your left and noticed Harry standing there, still in the same outfit as before.

"I'm sorry?" You asked confused, taking a step away from the barn to considerately pay more attention to him.

"Thank you - for saying I look handsome in flares." He repeated, smirking when he added the second part.

"Oh." Was all you could respond, feeling too embarrassed to take the conversation any further. "I should—" You pointed back to the barn, using it as an excuse to leave before yet screwed up anymore.

"Lisa told me you're the interviewer." Harry added, and it only occurred to you that you'd never actually introduced yourself. "So it's lovely to finally meet you Y/N." He stuck out his hand for your to shake, which you did willingly. His hands were a lot softer than you'd expected.

"Ho... You know my name?" You asked surprised.

"Of course. I also know you're the best writer in Vogue right now." He flattered you, which made you blush. You had a feeling he'd make you do that a lot today.

"Sure." You rolled your eyes as you spoke sarcastically.

"Well I chose you for a reason, didn't I?" He rhetorically asked.

"I mean.. I, well.. I don't know?" You stumbled over your words, making yourself look like a larger fool than you did already. Today was just turning out to be exactly what you didn't want it to be. "Sorry."

"Stop apologising. You do it too often." He told you, nearly making you apologise again but he gave you a jokingly stern look, as if he knew what you were going to say, and so you decided otherwise.

"Harry!" You both turned to see there was a man waving towards you both, but specifically to Harry. "Come get changed!" The same man shouted. Harry lifted his thumbs up, as if to signal he'd be there shortly.

Harry turned back to you and noticed you shiver a little.

"I'll start the interview after I come back from the dressing rooms, yeah?" Harry asked, taking off his, khaki green, trench-coat in the process. He handed it to you before you could oblige against it.

"Wait what?" You confusedly looked down at the coat and back up to Harry.

"Gives me a piece of mind knowing my interviewer isn't going to die of hypothermia before actually interviewing me." He smiled, obviously attempting to crack a joke and you have to admit you did laugh.

"Thank you." You say, before he runs off to where he's being called to.

••••

You'd been sat inside for a little while, waiting for Harry to come back. It gave you time to perfect your questions though.

Thinking up questions to ask Harry had been a challenging task, but one that you'd been fully invested in. You loved creating questions to ask him that were going to get to understand him on a deeper level. He was a very private man, and you completely respected that. If you crossed any boundaries, with the questions you'd ask, you would write them out of the interview. You liked to think you hadn't thought up a question that would make him feel uncomfortable though.

Pissing off Harry would be on another level of shame.

"Coat kept you warm?" Harrys voice disengaged you from your notebook.

"Hm?" You asked then replayed what he'd just asked in your mind. "Oh, yes. Thank you very much." You stood up, from where you'd been perched on the floor, picking up your nearly finished green tea as you did so.

Only when you stood up did it come to your realisation that Harry was now in costume. He was dressed in luxury. Each item looked like it cost more than your rent, and that was saddening. He looked rich and luxurious. To be quite honest, you were finding it rather difficult to take your eyes off him.

"You think the outfit is Vogue enough?" Harry asked, striking a few poses, which made you laugh. It was refreshing to see him act so relaxed and carefree, rather than a stuck-up-prick you knew some celebrities to be.

"Completely. I love it!" You exclaimed, appreciating the twirl he did for you.

He was wearing a kilt-like skirt and he looked beyond beautiful in it. Fuck toxic masculinity. Fuck being a manly man - like what does that even mean? Harry was embracing gender fluidity and experimenting the ways in which there was no definitive line between men and women's clothes anymore, and you thought it was marvellous. Revolutionary, for times as politically and socially troubled as these.

You started removing the coat in attempt to give it back to him, but he refrained you from doing so by holding on to your forearm.

"Keep it. I thought we could go outside to start the interview, so you'll be needing that." Harry told you, and you agreed - however reluctantly that was. You couldn't really complain though, because the coat did kept you warm and, what's better, it smelt divine - just like you'd imagine Harry to smell.

"Okay. Thank you. Do you want to go now?" You asked hesitantly, not knowing whether he was busy for someone else right now.

"Whenever you're ready, love." He answered, making you feel more relaxed. He was going at your pace and was making you feel settled - he was even more of a gentleman than people described him to be.

The two of you had walked around the backside of the barn in silence, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence. Well, at least you were. It was a blessing no one was back here. It was just you, Harry and the scenery that surrounded Stonehenge.

You approached a bench and you plopped yourself down on one end, whilst Harry sat on the other. He respected the fact that there was a pandemic going on, and didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way. You still had your mask on, so Harry had taken that as you were very conscious about the virus - which he admired.

You pulled out your glasses, from the depths of one of the coat pockets, and placed them on your face, probably making yourself look even geekier than you already felt. Today was just one of those days you wished you had good eyes...

You opened your spent notebook, musty pages practically falling apart, and turned to the section of questions you needed for that interview. You were so nervous already and you hadn't even asked anything yet, all because of the previous interactions with Harry today. Your shaky hands shuffled through the pages and you cursed under your breath when you struggled to find what you needed.

"Shoot. Come on." You mumbled quietly under your breath, hoping it would make this terrible situation end faster. You mustn't have been as quiet as you thought though.

"Y/N." Harry's name broke through your clouded mind of self-disappointment.

You looked up at him to see him softly smiling at you, blowing all worries away from you away with the wind. "Yes?" You timidly asked, pushing your wind-swept hair out of glasses - where it'd gotten caught.

"You’re alright, love. You don't have to be professional around me, alright? We're just two strangers having a conversation, to get to know each other, okay?" If his words didn't calm you enough, the soothing sound of his husky voice certainly did.

"But that would mean you asking me stuff too?" You replied, confused at his implications of the phrasing 'getting to know each other'.

"Mhm." Harry nodded his head.

"Oh I don't know Mr Styles, i'm not a very interesting person." You answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose from where they'd fallen.

"I refuse to believe that." Harry chuckled, making a quick smile appear on your face. "And please call me Harry. Just Harry." He begged, obviously finding it weird you calling him by his professional title. All you wanted, ever, was for your interviewee's to feel comfortable and safe, so if Harry wanted you to call him Harry then so be it.

"Ok, Harry," you sarcastically said, earning a shake of the head on his behalf, "you can ask me a few questions throughout the day." You told him, but you knew he'd struggle to find even two questions when he realises how bland you are.

"Does that mean you only get to ask me a few as well?" Harry smirked, already knowing the answer to that question. Unlike Harry, you had to write an article about today when you got home and so he knew that you'd have to dig as much dirt as possible from him.

"No, sorry. I don't particularly want to lose my job." You paused to look down at your notes, squinting a little as you did to see better. "Okay. Tell me your experience with corona virus."

"Sorry I didn't quite catch that, love." Harry apologised, leaning in slightly to see if he could hear you a second time around.

"Sorry." You looked down to fiddle with your fingers - a habit you'd undertaken when you're embarrassed. "Um..," you cleared your throat, "would you mind if I took off my mask?"

Your timid voice sent tingle down Harrys spine. He didn't think anyone could ever be this sweet. "Not at all, ‘course you can." He replied, again, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

You hesitantly took off your face mask, feeling like you were in some dramatic movie where they face revealed someone. You kind of liked having the mask on, because, for one, it kept you warm, and for two, you were a little self conscious with how you looked compared to all the other women here today. You shoved the mask in your pocket, with trembling fingers, before looking back down to your notes.

"Woah." You heard Harrys voice being mumbled under the wind. You eyes shot up to his and you noticed him staring right back at you.

"W-what? Is my acne playing up? I knew I should've—" You self-consciously run your hands over the areas you know you got acne. The masks really didn't help when it came to skin care.

"Hey, stop. No. You just... You look beautiful." Harry complimented you, and a roaring blush arose on to your cheeks. You'd never been called beautiful before, and so you were taking the compliment like such a 13-year old.

"Oh, uh, thank you." You awkwardly answered, not really having any other words come to mind in that moment. Harry chuckled under his breath, still keeping eyes on you for some reason.

"Would you mind repeating your last question, I didn't quite catch it?" Harry asked politely.

"Sure. Um, tell me how you've experienced corona virus." You repeated for him, gripping ahold of your pen to start copying what he says and pressing start on your recording device in case you needed it later.

"Well, it's been tedious that's for sure. However, I just want people to be safe and for life to return back to normal, so therefore i've been very MIA for a lot of the time. Keeping to myself mostly. I only went out for hikes or bike rides. All my meetings were online, so it's been very lonely." Harry kept eye contact with your figure the entire time, and if it weren't for you concentrating on writing what he was saying then you'd probably melt away under his gaze.

For such soft eyes he sure was intimidating.

"I presume the loneliness sent you crazy at times." You laughed, because you sure felt that way through lockdown. Curse being single.

"You have no idea." Harry laughed along with you, making you, slowly, feel more at ease.

"Actually, you'd be surprised." You looked at him unsure, before returning down to your notebook.

"Okay then, first question from me," Harrys words made your head shoot up, "How can someone as amazing as yourself be lonely?" He asked and you made a mental tally of how many questions he'd asked.

"Could ask you the very same question, Harry." You slyly replied, avoiding the question by answering with another question. It was a tactic you'd learnt, throughout your years of journalism, when you wanted to dismiss something .

"That's cheating." Harry pointed at you and raised his eyebrows, but you couldn't take your eyes off the big, cheeky, smile perched on his face. You shrugged you're shoulders in defence and returned to your questions. "But you did just call me amazing, so I think i'll let it slide this one time." You blushed, again, when you understood what he meant.

He was amazing though - that was the truth.

"You were in L.A. for the majority of quarantine, am I right to say?" You already knew the answer but your manager had just wanted confirmation.

"Yeah, but L.A. feels like holiday, whereas London feels like home." He answered, which you appreciated. He hasn't got lost in the way that Hollywood could let people. He'd stayed grounded.

"So what did you entertain yourself with during quarantine?" You asked curiously, slightly side-tracking from your pre-written questions - just because you were intrigued (nosey).

"Not much, not to be boring. I ate a lot of bread. I worked out pretty much every day. I wrote quite a bit actually." He used his fingers to pinch his bottom lip, something you'd noticed he did in interviews.

"Does that mean a new album on the way?" Your inner fangirl was screaming at the thought of HS3.

"Can neither confirm nor deny." Harry smirked to himself, like the cheeky bugger he is.

"That's a yes then." You joked, pretending to write it down in your notes.

"You're impossible, you." Harry laughed and shook his head. It made you feel all funny the way you could make him smile like that. You were the source of his happiness for just that moment, and that was enough to make you feel happy for a lifetime - not that he felt the same.

"Next question," you stated, moving swiftly on because you knew you had limited time, "How's your experience with Vogue been so far?"

"Wonderful. Everyone has been so welcoming and that makes it so much easier for me to have fun. It's daunting going at things alone, but i'm getting slowly used to it now." Harry sniffled a little, probably due to the freezing cold weather here.

"Must be strange, not having four best friends around you, all the time, anymore." You stated rather than asked him, sure that he was missing his bandmates. I mean, you were - so he definitely would be.

"Brothers." Harry replied, making you look up at him confused.

"I'm sorry?" You asked, giving him your full attention.

"You said four best friends. Well, actually they're my brothers." His words actually caused a rift in your heart. You could feel it being pulled apart and torn in to two. If you wrote this in to the magazine the fans would have a worldwide passing-away-party.

"Harry." You said softly, slightly tearing up at his words. "God, I swear i'm not normally this emotional." You chest your throat and try to establish your dignity - however there wasn't that much left anymore.

"Oh shut up." Harry looked away obviously trying to hide the fact that he was tearing up too. You laughed at him but didn't draw any more attention to it than you guessed he would've wanted.

"They mean a lot to you then?" You asked, hopefully not treading on any unwanted territories.

"Much more than a lot, yeah." Harry nodded his head, turning it back to face you. He could tell this conversation was now off-the-record because of your closed notebook, your undivided attention towards him and the fact you’d turned off the recording device. He liked being able to look at you, rather than the top of your head. He swore you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

"You still see them often?"

"Not as often as i'd like. Niall did come around the other week to drop off some old guitars he didn't want anymore, and then we ended up playing around with some music for a bit." He admitted, which stitched your heart back together.

"So does that mean a Narry collab?" You teased, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.

"Narry? You so are a directioner." He laughed along with you.

"And you just avoided my question, therefore there is a song out there written only by you and Niall." You concluded, which shut him up.

This conversation was going a lot better than expected. Certainly a lot better than earlier. You will be permanently scarred by the way you spoke to him and handled his belongings. It was going to haunt you forever - and yet he'd forget about it by tomorrow. Or maybe he wouldn't, which is why you felt the need to apologise.

"Harry?" You asked, clearly indicating this was still a conversation away from the interview.

"Yes Y/N?" He watched you intently, listening to your every word.

"I, um, just wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I was just really nervous to meet you, and to be honest still am. I didn't mean to touch your stuff without your consent and I certainly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with any of my comments. So, i'm sorry. I can only imagine the awful, yet true, things you must think of me." You rambled really quickly, that you were uncertain whether Harry even caught one word of what you'd says.

"Do you know why I asked for you to interview me Y/N?" Harry asked, which wasn't the first thing you expected him to say after your apology.

"No. I...well Lisa told me it was because I can write well or something." You suggested, not wanting to sound egotistical.

"I mean you do write perfectly, but no." You were intrigued now. "I asked for you because I, and this is not for your magazine, have a secret - but not-so-secret - crush on you." This time it was Harrys turn to blush.

"Harry... you don't have to say that to—"

"I'm not saying it for anything. I sincerely think you are the most delightful, most prettiest, most fucking sweetest person i've ever met." Harry exclaimed, which you were taken aback by. Never, ever, did you think that Harry Styles would proclaim his likeness towards you. Ever.

"Harry don't mess with me, please." You shyly spoke, tilting your head down in disbelief that the Harry Styles was smitten about you.

He shuffled along the bench, stopping a little way from you but close enough to reach out for you. Your heartbeat increased when you noticed his hand move closer towards you. It didn't stop till he reached your face. He took his time, courteously, pushing your hair behind your ear before removing you of your glasses. He held the right-eye frame and slowly pulled the glasses off your face.

Once he'd successfully taken them off he folded them up and placed them alongside your closed notebook.

"Can see those pretty eyes now." He whispered quietly, but loud enough for you to hear.

"Don't lie. They're so dull." You mumbled, lifting your head up slightly. His face was still away from you.

"Not to me they're not." He retaliated, looking deep into your eyes as you did his. "I hate this corona virus."

"Why?" His words were so out of the blue sometimes, it gave you whiplash.

"Because I can't be as near to you as I want to be." Harry told you. And yeah, you hated corona too. It was getting a little laborious now.

"Smooth, Styles." You chuckled. You wondered how many new and weird pick-up lines could be made from covid.

"I know." He winked, which honestly would have made you throw up if it were any other man on the planet. Somehow, though, Harry just made it seem attractive - along with every other thing that man ever did. "After this, would you like to come back to my house for a cuppa tea?" He asked sweetly, like a five year old asking whether you wanted to play together.

"Okay. Lisa was my ride though." You said more to yourself than anything else, debating on how you'd even get to Harrys. Uber? Taxi? Lisa? Walk?

"I'll drive us, it's fine. I have to drop Gem off, but i'd be more than happy to chauffeur you." Harry kindly offered, to which you were internally screaming about. You were literally, and metaphorically, having a field-day with all this Harry content and interview.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden." You question politely, not wanting to overstep any boundaries - especially in these covid infested times.

"Of course. I wouldn't have offered otherwise." He protested, waving his hand at if to say it was no bother. You were already trying to work out, in your head, how much petrol money you were going to owe him.

"Then i'd be honoured to have a brew with you Harry." You giggled at how cringe you were being, even if this was just your normal self speaking.

"Great." Harry genuinely smiled, teeth and all. "My shoot should take a couple of hours, but feel free to continue to write and journal. I'm looking forward to reading this particular article." He winked at you before standing up.

"Wonder why?" You sarcastically asked, knowing full-well it was due to his exposure of his own feelings towards you. Even though you'd never says anything back you were quite in agreement on how you felt about him, like he did you. He would be a narcissist to say he knew you liked him the same, out loud, but he knew. And you knew that he knew.

"Wonder why indeed." He gave you one last smile before he'd disappeared for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you to digest and relive the past half an hour or so.

Being Harry Styles' crush was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

••••

After Harry had finished up his shoot he was quick to come find you again.

You'd watched parts of his shoot and he looked magnificent. There wasn't a good enough word to describe how amazing he looked. Harry, his stylist, was probably the best stylist out there. His fashion choices were unmatched and you wanted him to be yours. You were not rich enough nor fashionable enough, ironic for working in a a fashion company, to hire a stylist, but you would if you could.

You were so proud to see what he was achieving now as the person that he was. Harry was just being Harry, without the devilish control of shitty managements or ridiculous amounts of PR stunts. Harry was more free than ever, and it definitely showed just how much he was enjoying it.

You were certain that this Vogue magazine would break the internet - his fans were good at doing that. This could be a turning point for many people, with their outdated and ignorant views. There was no room for people with racist or homophobic or transphobic or xenophobic - and the list does go on - views anymore.

You were waiting by the front door of the barn, to catch Harry as he walked past. You caught sight of him in a white robe, presumably to get changed back into his everyday clothes. He looked really pretty in the robe - very domestic actually.

Today had been a good day.

Harry asked you to send over the more specific Vogue questions to him via email, so he could devote more time in to answering them in a lot more depth. You thought he meant you'd be sending them to some PA in his team, but you were shocked to understand he'd given you his personal email.

People were walking back to their cars and packing away the filming kit. You saw Lisa and the director talking to one another, no doubt discussing some in-work gossip.

"You ready?" Harrys voice reminded you that you'd been waiting for him. You looked to see he was back in the same clothes as this morning, only this time without his coat.

"Here?" You offered, having him over the coat once again but he declined.

"Looks better on you anyways." He winked at you, before walking through the car park and to his car. You were very surprised when you found out Harry was the one to own the green Jaguar. You assumed all celebrities drove the Range Rover, but no. The vintage car added to Harrys immaculate vibe and just made him that little bit more hot.

Harry properly introduced you to Gemma, who was equally as lovely as Harry. They were both amazing people and they were crazily alike. From the way they looked, down to the way they phrased their words, they were mistakingly twins. Gemma explained how Anne, their mum, didn't know they were doing this photoshoot and that it was going to be a surprise, which you thought was so cute.

Gemma spilt a lot of gossip on Harry, to which he got very embarrassed over. You learnt that Harrys first word was Cat. You learnt that Harry is godfather to multiple children, which you found heartwarming. You learnt Harry used to be a baker - which was something he elaborated on for a good half an hour. Harry was just a fountain of memories and Gemma was the one sharing them all with you.

The drive back to London was relaxed. You sat in the back, listening to Harry and Gemma pointlessly argue whilst an Arctic Monkeys album played in the background. You forgot that people like Harry drove, and listened to music, just like other regular people. You often misplaced celebrities in society, thinking they had everything done for them but in reality that (often) wasn't the case - at least not for Harry.

Gemma was dropped off quickly before Harry drove to his. It was no surprise that the Styles siblings didn't live too far away from each other. Harrys house was beautiful. Bigger than anything you could ever dream of buying. It was a palace compared to your cupboard-sized house. You were unbelievably jealous. He gave you the tour of the house, showing you where the toilets were, and even his panic room if necessary.

You migrated to the kitchen for a bit, talking about anything and everything. Getting to know the minuscule pieces of information that no-one else was trusted with, made you feel special. Harry made you feel special - even if he weren't meaning to.

Every moment held a spark. Every touch set off a firework. Every laugh was an electric burst. He made you feel so alive.

"We can go to the living room after this has boiled." Harry said, pointing towards the streaming kettle. He wanted to show off his fancy tea collection he had, and let you have a try if you wanted to. Harry was boring and chose the basic green tea, but, after much deliberation, you chose the cranberry green tea. It intrigued you and it sounded delicious.

"Why the extensive tea collection?" Not even you, a certified caffeine addict, had this much tea in your house. Coffee was a different story and one in which you didn't want to talk about.

"They help me with my meditation." He took the teabags and placed them in his glass mugs. They had a delicate Gucci stamp on them, and you just imagined that they probably worth the same amount as your daily salary.

"You meditate?" You were slightly surprised that he did.

"I try to yeah." Harry nodded, focusing on pouring in the boiling water into the mugs. "I've got very tight hamstrings and so it helps if I meditate twice a day."

Harry finished making the tea, in the light-filled kitchen, before showing you around to the open-lounge area. Everything was modern and chic. It was exactly how you imagined it, but better. The open, red-brick, wall was a beautiful feature and one that you were a whore for! It reminded you of New York and the memories you'd made there one summer.

The sofa was a beautiful velvet, green, sofa. It was soft and gentle, a lot like Harry when you thought about it. The whole house was an architectural masterpiece and you'd be lying if you said you weren't jealous. You sat on one end and Harry went to go and sit on the other end.

"I don't bite you know?" You joked, self-consciously wondering whether he didn't want to be sat near you.

"I know, I just don't want to step on any of your covid boundaries - which is perfectly fine by the way." He added, apprehensively taking the spot next to you.

"No, not at all." You ushered him to sit next to you, as you took a sip from your steaming hot cup of fruity tea. "If I smell though, do tell me!"

"Yeah, you smell bloody awful!" Harry sarcastically remarked, but laughing afterwards to assure you he was joking. The atmosphere went quiet for a minute, only the sounds of passing cars and deep breaths being heard.

"Y/N can I ask you something?" Harry turned the tone of the conversation. It sounded like he wanted to be more serious than you two were being beforehand.

"Anything." You encouraged him to continue. You placed the cup of tea down on the table, deciding it was too hot to drink right now, and gave him your full attention.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Harry questioned. You didn't think you'd be having a conversation this intense - especially if you had different opinions - on your first day of knowing each other, but here you were.

"I believe you can love someone at first sight. I don't believe you can be in love with someone at first sight. Why?" You were curious as to how his brain had journeyed to this particular topic. You'd never really had this conversation with anyone before, mainly because you were unaware of the true power, and meaning, of love.

"It uh... It doesn't matter." Harry shook his head and you could tell by his body language that he was shutting you out. Maybe you'd made him uncomfortable.

"Sorry I didn't mean to—"

"No, no. Please don't apologise. It's just - I like you a lot more than you may think." Harry shyly told you, which made you all soft inside. He was being vulnerable and that was something you admired in a partner. You didn't just need love, affection and trust in a relationship. No. You needed vulnerability and heartbreak too, and Harry was revealing that part of him to you.

"I like you a lot more than you think too." You repeated, not because you felt bad for him but because you truly did like him a whole lot. Love was a weird yet wonderful thing, and if you were to hazard a guess you'd say you loved Harry.

You couldn't wait to be in love with him.

"Does that mean I get to crown you my girlfriend?" Harry excitedly asked. Harry happy was something that should be made a constant, and you were more than happy to be in control of that.

"At least take me out first." You bargained, wishing for nothing more than to go on a date with Harry. Where you'd go, you had no idea. Everything was closed right now and there was still the chance of becoming sick with corona, but no doubt Harry would think of something not only clever, but special.

Of course you'd love to be Harrys girlfriend. However, you wanted one more, official, opportunity to really get to know him - unprofessionally. You wanted to make sure that you knew, and he knew, that you wanted to be with him because he was the charming Harry you've come to love, not because he was Harry Styles.

"So you're allowing me to take you on a date?" Harry smirked like a little child, your heart fluttering at how excited he was to be able to treat you to dinner.

"Yes, Harry. Yes I am." You answered sweetly, offering him the cutest smile you could.

You can't believe what a turn of events today has been. You've gone from nearly writing yourself on Harrys enemy list to writing yourself on to his 'people he's dated' list. Who knows what the future would offer you. At the start of the day you had wished this whole day to end and for the ground to just swallow you up, now you never wanted it to end. It was too perfect to be true and yet it was.

Harry was the most wonderful human to exist and you were beyond surprised to be the one to catch his attention. You didn't understand why you were so special, but it was nice to feel like this for a change. It was nice to feel wanted.

••••

A few months later and you were officially Harrys girlfriend.

It had been such a crazy few months. Harry religiously took you out on dates every week. Whether it be to grab a hotdog at a local diner, a coffee from a quaint cafe, a walk in Hyde Park or a late-night drive around London - which normally ended up with you falling asleep before you could make it back to yours. On sleepless jet-lagged nights he'll still drive through London's quiet streets, seeing neighborhoods in a new way, just as an excuse to spend time with you.

Harry often stayed over at yours. Even though you looked like you lived in a shoebox compared to Harry, he liked it. He liked the subtly and normality of it all. He wanted your life to remain as normal as possible and, apart from the occasional paparazzi incident, it did. You never had anything to complain about. Of course the online bullying created emotional wounds, at the start of your relationship, but it was nothing that Harry couldn't repair with a bit of love.

Lisa has nominated herself to be maid-of-honour when the day comes - if the day comes. Harry has already pinky sworn that you are it for him. The one, as some may say. You were utterly flattered, but you certainly unsure of what the future help for you both.

You loved Harry, you do love Harry and you will forever always love Harry.

It was ridiculous to think that all this stemmed from you working at Vogue. From you studying English Literature in a city away from London. From you dedicating you extra hours gaining work experience and money to be able get in and afford university. So many moments in life have you stopped and said 'i wish i hadn't have done that', but now you were convinced that they were the best things to have happened to you - because they lead you, all, to Harry.

And, being Harry Styles girlfriend was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

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allfattenedup · 2 years ago

Note

You literally have I think the highest quality gainer content I've ever seen, it's practically art! Would you talk about what goes on behind the scenes in making your content?

Thank you so much! I love making gainer content and I love making it in the style that I do. I've been doing a lot of fun belly play videos and so on just on my phone lately, because people have wanted to see content that's more raw, but I assume you're talking about my more filmic videos, so I'll speak about that!

CAMERA

I shoot on a Canon dSLR at 60fps - shooting at a higher frame rate means that I can slow it down in post and get that smooth slow-motion which I feel is absolutely essential to my videos. Personally I think slow-motion makes anything look good, but especially when filming fat, there's so much you miss at full speed. The first few times I watched myself back slowed down, I couldn't believe how jiggly it all was. Parts that I never even noticed jiggling were in motion. It's all style and taste of course, but in my opinion, slow-mo is a must.

I also like to include what's called 'cutaways' - which are shots of details, like food, hands, steam, water running down glass, etc. These aren't to be used in excess but they really help build out the environment, give context, and also break up the flow of belly shot after belly shot after belly shot. You might not be watching to see a water drop run down glass or a slow pan of fries cooking, but you'll enjoy the rest of it more because of what those little details add.

I ideally like to shoot at f1.8 which gives a lovely shallow depth of field, but it's not always possible as I shoot by myself on a tripod which can make it hard to get myself in focus. I'll go as high as 2.8, but usually not above or it loses the filmic quality. I sometimes shoot tethered to my laptop so that I can see the shot, otherwise I have a shutter remote, or I just eyeball it, or put some object in the shot to stand in as me, set the focus, start rolling, then step into the same position.

LOCATION

I like to have a sort of a 'set' to work on, for a few reasons. One being that it ties the video together rather than combining disparate shots, but mostly because once I'm in whatever outfit I'm filming in, and getting more and more stuffed (eg the pampered fat boy video or whole apple pie) or bloated (my soda bloat video), moving around and setting things up once I've started filming becomes increasingly difficult. So I like to set everything up beforehand, know what I'm doing, I'll often even have a shot list, and work through it without having to move anything around or set up a new location mid-shoot.

LIGHTING

I like to use a three point lighting set up with bold accent colours. Usually my fill light and my key light are heavily saturated, contrasting colours, and my rim light is white. I improvise heavily when it comes to lighting. I don't have video lights and to be honest I don't think you need them. I have a floor lamp with smart bulbs in it that I had in my house already, like philips hue where you can change the colour and brightness from an app, and that's what I usually use for my key light. But really whatever's on hand and looks good on camera is fine. I love experimenting with lighting, you can sometimes come up with some really good results without any equipment at all. For the Feeders' Night video, I used a blue screen on my tv to set the base colour, then accented with the lamp and the torch on my phone for the rim. For the shower video, I just put a magenta gel over my ceiling light, and did the same with lamp and torch.

You don't need lots of expensive equipment to create beautiful lighting. I think the most important thing actually is the placement of the lights. I spent some time just moving a light source around my body and watching on the screen to see which light direction made my fat look best. And this can definitely change based on what you're trying to show off or even how you're positioned. I love a light from above when I'm stuffed, because it really shows the roundness of my stomach. But if I'm wanting to highlight my hang, I might want the light to sort of cup it, so have my light source below and draw the eye down with it. Or if the focus is my rolls, I'll have a light behind and to the side to wrap around them. This is usually the rim light, because that's what shapes the subject and makes it three-dimensional.

There are loads and loads of different ways you could light your videos, but here's a diagram of a very standard three point lighting set up which I use regularly.

Which results in something like:

That said, I also like to shoot in daylight! It all depends on what the video needs.

EDITING

I use Adobe Premiere Pro to edit my videos, and usually nothing more than that. I edit pretty intuitively, whichever shots flow together nicely. Sometimes I'll try to work in parallel imagery, like this:

...but let's be honest, I know what people are mostly watching for, so I don't get overly meaningful with the symbolism. I do get a kick out of these sorts of transitions but mostly I just cut it to make sure it tells the story and looks fucking hot.

For sound, I browse tracks from a few musicians I follow on youtube that post really good free for commercial use instrumentals, and then cut to that, but lately I've been incorporating my own sounds, like a sort of foley I guess - belly slaps, chair creaks, this and that. I just record these on voice memos on my phone and airdrop them to myself. The iPhone mic is perfectly good enough, but I just make sure I turn off any fans or background noise, and sometimes put down a towel to dampen any echo if I'm working on the floor. My mid-year trailer I just put out and my Feeders' Night video both have examples of that, and I find it really hot so I think I'll keep doing it.

That was long but I'm glad you asked because a lot goes into these videos which I'm sure isn't necessarily apparent from watching them! I really only scratched the surface there but I hope that gives you a little insight into the process!

#askafu

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chanluster · 4 years ago

Text

10/10 | {m} ; {c} ; {f}

oneshot | friends with benefits! au | 18.7k words

“Because what you feel for your best friend cannot be described in words, but in numbers.”

s u m m a r y > > you and bang chan had no secrets between one other. each detail of your life would be discussed with your best friend of forever, no matter how insignificant it may be, through a little system you both had concocted — through a small rating. a number out of ten. a simple concept, used from being a child and rating your cookie a solid eight out of ten to your later years in high school, giving your first kiss a measly five. however, when you confess an average rating of your sex life in one hazy evening, chan decides this dilemma cannot be solved with buying you consolation cookies. he must simply raise that rating, all by himself.

w a r n i n g s > > friends to lovers! au, college! au, music! major chan, music! major reader, you both are literally soulmates, came out the womb holding hands, so much teasing, sexual! tension! chan has a massive fucking cock (i mean isn’t it obvious already), shit loads of making out, aggression, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe homies!!!), kinda hate sex, orgasming left and right, ex! hyunjin, who’s also really bad at sex lmfaoaoao sorry king, chan is hella soft dom at the start but goes !!! hella hard later!!!! (i mean idk but) shit ton of fluff, friend! jisung which chan gets soooo jealous of, reader is so fucking annoyin, teensy weensy bit of angst, and yeh basically me venting out my love for chan once again

p l a y l i s t > > here!

a u t h o r ’ s n o t e > > this is dedicated to my dear friend chloe, boo i love u so much and thank you for that insane prompt :( also help this feels so rushed to me at the end but i hope y’all do enjoy <3

t a g l i s t > > @hanflix @thatonepieceofpineapple @kimkailover @decembermoonskz @smilesohwas @missskzbiased @illicit-roses @embroideredstarz @freckledquokka @moonluvbunny @aliceu @coupscarat @maedesculpaeusoubi @baby-wolf @multi-fandom-kpop-stan @minaamhh @leescrt

back to masterlist

“I’M SORRY, BUT I DON’T THINK I CAN DO THIS ANYMORE.”

Hyunjin’s face faltered completely at your words. It was expected, really. The poor boy was not anticipating this news.

“Wh-what?” he asked, a little too loudly, catching the stares of a few others in the coffee shop. You immediately glared at him, and he retracted back into his seat, but still had a befuddled expression on his face.

You sighed a little. “Look,” you started, swirling your latte with a thin, wooden stirrer. “I’m going to be completely honest with you. I just think we’re much better off as friends.”

“Friends?” the boy flinched at the term, and even you had to hide your self-distaste. God, ____, at least try to be a little nicer! “Damn it, we’ve been dating for nearly three months, and you think we’d automatically become friends?!” he leaned in, knitting his eyebrows in growing desperation. “What the hell happened?”

You fought hard to not scratch the back of your neck. And possibly run away from the shop. Taking a long sip, you tried to feign the most sympathetic expression you could muster. “Hyunjin, please…”

“B-but, babe—” he started, and his eyes widened, trying to grab onto your hands which cupped the latte. “I don’t understand, we were so happy!” He huffed a smile, trying to convince you of your oh-so heavenly times spent with him. “Why are you thinking like this?”

You tried not to retract your hand from his — not only because it was hard to console him, but because they were embarrassingly sweaty. “Don’t think I have just done this on a whim. I have thought long about this decision.”

Finally, something out of your mouth which wasn’t a blatant lie. You had been thinking of breaking up with this goon — had the notion in your mind for half the time you dated him.

“____,” he said, and the melancholy you heard in his voice had you silencing your tongue. “What’s happened?” He began to caress your hand with his fingers. “Have I...have I done something wrong?”

Oh no. There it was. The reaction you dreaded.

Well, kind of. But still. Not the reaction you imagined in the perfect situation.

Reluctantly, you put a hand over his fingers, hoping that your face was a painting of sympathy.

“Hyunjin.”

Don’t say it, girl! Don’t you dare!

“It’s...it’s not you.”

You put your hand on your heart.

“It’s me.”

Oh, Jesus.

Your eyes raised to his own, wide and glistening.

Now, you knew Hwang Hyunjin was not the brightest kid on campus. The boy, who once asked you what the purpose of a spork was, may not have possessed the most intelligence, but you were scared that he may be smart enough to figure out that what you just said was complete, utter bullshit.

Face it, ____. You’re done for.

A few tears spilled from his eyes, and a pang of guilt shot through you. “I-I see.”

He did not let go of your hands. “We can still be...friends, right?” he sniffled, blinking at you rather irritatingly. “Like, we can still hang out together?”

You raised a brow, but reigned in a sarcastic reply. The boy would probably not even understand. “Of course,” you replied, a saccharine smile on your face. “But I think it’s best if we had some space from each other, okay?”

That was not the answer he seemed to be looking for, but he nodded, a little sadly. “Okay.” He still refused to take his hand away. “Does that mean I can’t rock up at yours midnight anymore if the junior needs a little taking care of?”

Your brows could not help furrow in absolute exasperation. “Yes, Hyunjin,” you monotoned, unable to believe that you put up with this man for three months. “Now can you let go of my hand?”

Realising his clammy hold on you, he flushed, looking away from your directory gaze. “I...should go, then.”

“No, no,” you insisted, getting up from your seat as you grabbed onto your drink. “I shall leave. I’m the one who dumped this news on you.”

You debated leaving without paying for the latte — you knew the boy was still infatuated enough to cover your expenses. Sadly, shame coursed through your veins, and you cursed yourself for feeling a little sympathy for your now ex. “Here,” you offered, fishing out a little cash from your jacket. “For the drink.”

When you nearly stepped past him, you stopped, looking down at him as he tilted his head upwards. Your hand itched to put upon his shoulder, but you knew better. Hyunjin would only take that as a hopeful sign.

“I’m sorry,” was the last thing you said before you left the coffee shop.

Upon falling into a leisurely step onto the street, you let out a harsh breath, an endless amount of relief washing over you.

You were almost delighted to let Hwang Hyunjin go.

Now, it was not like he was a monster who had caged you into his two-feet-squared, dingy flat. In fact, the boy was, in almost every way, a decent boyfriend, whose stupid personality earned him a few laughs.

Although extremely corny, the problem was not truly all him.

It was partly you as well.

Hearing your phone vibrate, you brought it out from your jeans pocket, already having an inkling on who the sender was, spamming you with messages.

CHRIS THE PISS :

bitch have you done it?

CHRIS THE PISS :

helloooooo??

CHRIS THE PISS :

hoe answer the phone i’m dying!!

CHRIS THE PISS :

or prolly hyunjin at this moment lmaooo

You could not help the eyeroll which escaped from his words, and you decided to ignore him until you arrived at your destination.

Which, evident from the persistent vibrations still, you figured you could not do.

CHRIS THE PISS :

i KNOW ur reading my messages DAMN just tell me!!

CHRIS THE PISS :

unless this is hyunjin and u killed her FUCK

CHRIS THE PISS :

haha dude whats poppin!! best man for ____ by far don't know why she was breaking up w u

YOU :

chan i will kill u :)

CHRIS THE PISS :

hyunjin i promise i didn't mean it when i said u looked like a cheese string w ur new hair

CHRIS THE PISS :

that was ur girl putting words in my mouth

YOU:

omfg chan STFUUU i’m coming

CHRIS THE PISS :

PLS HYUNJIN I SWEAR UR SEXC

Letting the man panic, you turned a left into student residence, buildings lined down the street, providing accommodation for hundreds of people like you in need of a place to sleep, eat, party, and contemplate the inevitability of death under.

Smiling at a few acquaintances, you entered the designated building, finding yourself with dozens of doors of the same, dead colour. Walking along the hallway, you stopped right at the very last one, bringing out your keys.

With a single twist you unlocked the door, but before you wrapped your hand around the knob the door swung open, catching you completely off guard.

“Funny, Hyunjin, how did you manage to transform into a little bitch so quickly?”

You cursed at the man who welcomed you.

“Damn it, Chan,” you said, hand on your chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Sad it didn’t kill you off, then.”

You heard him splutter into laughter at your sad attempts to pinch his shoulder, glaring daggers into his crescent eyes. The bumbling idiot was Bang Chan, the one man you managed to keep for your entire life. That too is purely because none of you could manage a stable, healthy relationship — which was a shame, of course, when your best friend, with his fluffy, raven curls, black-oversized hoodie and sweatpants, was admired by so many. You often wondered how you had not fallen at his feet when he smiled at you, but then he’d open his mouth and all would be understood, as your anger would flare up, and rush to hit him as hard as possible.

He gave you such a smile then, fingers gripping the doorframe. “How is Rapunzel, then? Sent him back to the tower?”

Wrenching his hand off the frame, which nearly had him falling onto the floor, you side-stepped past his stumbling figure, peeling off your jacket. “Rapunzel is never stepping in our lands again.”

After regaining his step, he muttered a cursed endearment your way and sat himself down on the couch, instantly settling his laptop upon his legs. “Oh, God. How badly did you break his heart, ____?”

Smiling, you dumped the jacket on the side table as you entered the living room, settling on the other end of his sofa. Propping your legs upon his, you pondered over the answer, and said, “At least a good seven.”

Chan let out a little whistle. “Oh, he’s definitely causing a shitshow on the groupchat tonight.” A huffed laugh was his answer. “Want Chinese or Indian tonight?”

“Surprise me,” you said as he brought out his phone. He dialled a number, and then you added, “Actually, can we please get Chinese?”

“No, we’re getting Indian.”

You raised a brow. “Didn’t you cry the last time you had their special curry?”

The man stared at you for a minute before sighing, putting the phone to his ear. “I’d like your least spiciest dish please.”

He groaned as you pushed his legs off the couch, laughing at his pathetic tolerance towards spice. As he carried on with his order, you grabbed the TV remote, surfing through the channels.

Even after all these years, you still found it endearing how Chan understood the depth of the numbers you tell him. The system between you two had been created during kindergarten, when, on the last day, you both had received such delicious cookies that words could not express the joy you felt when having the first bite. It was a mere joke at first, rating random classmates despicably low in middle school to even more serious situations, when you moaned to your best friend of your mundane kiss, expecting fireworks and butterflies yet were only met with an over-enthusiastic tongue.

Chan himself used this system — it was the reason you knew of his distaste towards spicy food, and certain girls he had dated in the past. Even now, when the two of you had started college together, working on the same projects and going to the same parties, this concoction had not been shelved in your memories. Although this may be something which others might deem insignificant, the concept had become a pillar of your friendship with this absolute loser.

The food arrived within the hour, and you both continued your box set as the plastic containers were cracked open, the pungent smell of curries and biryanis filling the room. Chan provided the plates and cutlery while you poured him the sufficient amount, and you rebuked his whining as you added the spicier dishes onto his plate.

“I refuse to let you eat only korma, Crispy,” you scolded. “Prick, careful! Don’t spill it on your laptop!”

“Bitch!” he yelped as a bit of the residue nearly stained his sweats, but was saved by his hands. “Just ruin everything I wear, why don’t you? Now I got curry on my fingers!”

You propped your legs over his again, eyes upon the screen once more, and the action occurring. “Just lick it off?”

“How about you do it for me?” the boy then simpered out, and you nearly tossed your entire dish on his head.

“Let’s just focus on Tommy and his cocaine problem,” you dismissed him, but returned his impish smile as you elbowed him, nearly causing his food to stain his hoodie.

The two of you seemed to settle down after a bit and watched the show, commenting on the terrible choices the characters were making, and then boasted of how you and him could easily be the better leader from the protagonist. Soon, you had finished your takeout, and after Chan followed, he got up, hurrying into the kitchen situated behind the doorway in the lounge. He then came back, you delighted to find his hands occupied with two tubs of Ben & Jerrys’.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme!” you sang, snatching one of the tubs from him and pulling open the cover, digging straight in. “I didn’t know you brought ice cream!”

“Thought it’d help with the breakup,” he confessed, settling back into the sofa, shuffling closer to you. “But it doesn’t look like you need it.”

“Oh, I can’t believe Hyunjin broke my heart like this!”

Chan shook his head at your melodrama. “You may fool the looney princess, but you’re not fooling me.”

“You know me too well,” you said, which he agreed to with an absent-minded hum, eating his dessert.

There was a short pause, a comfortable silence reigning upon you both for a little before your best friend broke it, gulping down his ice cream.

“____?”

“No, you’re not having any of mine.”

Chan prodded you lightly with his foot. “No, I don’t mean that. I was just wondering something.”

“Shoot.”

“You’re not...upset, right?” He took a bite of his ice cream. “Like, I know you always complained about him, but breakups can be difficult.”

You looked at him, and saw genuine concern painted on his face — along with a little vanilla stain on the corner of his lips. “You don’t have to pretend to be happy if you’re not, okay?” he continued. “Especially with me.”

Your heart melted slightly. “Of course, Chan, don’t worry. I wouldn’t ever lie to you.”

Turning to the TV screen, you sighed as you thought of your recent relationship. “There were good moments for sure. He was still a sweet guy, you know?” You then stabbed the creamy plains inside the tub. “It was just so...dull.”

The man beside you took in another bite, if a bit slow. “What do you mean?”

Following him, you relished the chocolate goodness, swallowing. “Dates were kind of boring. I carried most of the conversations because he’s too thick to talk about anything.”

Chan let out a soft snort. “I remember you telling me about it. I can certainly believe it.”

“Well, you won’t believe what I’m about to tell you next.” You focused on your ice cream, a sarcastic smile plastered upon your face. “Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin was terrible at sex.”

You did not need to see your best friend to sense his shock. “What?”

A small chuckle escaped you. “First time he fucked me, I think I cried. Not because it was so good, no, but because it was so bad.”

“No way,” Chan said, brows furrowed. “Didn’t you say he had a big dick or something?”

“That’s the downside, bud,” you countered, halfway through your tub. “Because he had a massive cock he thought that was enough for me to enjoy. But it’s not. He just did not know what to do with it!”

The man had been silenced. He took another bite of his ice cream, in disbelief. “So you were...deprived of pleasure?”

“Deprived?” You scoffed. “Chan, I thirsted for a crumb of pleasure. God, can you believe I’ve faked nearly all my orgasms with him?”

This time, your friend glanced at you in horror. Carrying on, you said, “The only real orgasm I had was not even because of him. God, I was thinking about Lee Donghyuck singing between my legs.”

A soft growl entered your ears. “Oh Christ.”

“Bastard was so proud when I came all over him,” you crowed, trying to sweeten your bitterness with the dessert. “If only I told him I undid myself for an idol I’m never going to meet.”

Your friend did not say anything. The episode finished, and when you noticed his further silence, you used it to your advantage, starting a romantic comedy before he could even complain.

Even with the movie on for about twenty minutes, and the romance you thoroughly enjoyed, the man stayed quiet, idly stirring his melted ice cream in the tub. You ignored his rather odd behaviour, assuming he was either thinking of his assignment or had gotten a brain freeze. Either way, it let you watch your movie in peace, swooning outwardly at the man’s teasing to the girl.

One hour in, and you asked if Chan was okay. “Yeah...yeah, I’m good,” was his answer, sending you a second-long smile before going back to his brain freeze. You raised a confused brow, but went back to the chick flick, gasping when the boy went back for his love.

This was it. The fireworks, the passion which exuded from the mere actions of lips enveloping lips, hands holding onto waists or necks or locks and refusing to let go. You craved for your heart to drop down in lust as you let yourself fall, be wrapped up in another as you undid yourself. Where was this? Where was this for you?

Did you not deserve your desires to be fulfilled? Did you not deserve to have your entire world turned upside down in pure exhilaration?

Before you knew it, the credits rolled, and you let out a long, laboured sigh, leaning into the cushions. “Maybe it’s time I find myself a millionaire who’d pay me to have sex with me.”

The man was still looking at the now black screen. “Do you mean a prostitute?”

“Well, yes, but—” you groaned. “You know what? Maybe I’m meant to stay forever displeased.”

It was after a long time your best friend spoke. “Or…” he cleared his throat. “You find yourself someone who would pleasure you.”

You turned to him. “Wowie, thank you for a perfect solution! I really wouldn’t know what I’d do without you.”

Then, you saw his eyes darken. “____.” He propped the tub upon the coffee table. “Why search for other alternatives when you have options right here?”

Confusion marred your mind, not just from his words, but his entire change of character. “Chan, what are you on about?”

“____,” he said, and his hand inched closer to yours. “ I’m saying you should have a friends with benefits.”

The silence was suddenly heard. You did not realise the sheer weight of this man’s gaze till his very stare gravitated you to him. The lights were dimmed, and all you could see from the laptop’s light was his face — his beautiful face.

What was all this? Why was your best friend looking at you like that? Why were you being affected by his gaze?

“I…” You could barely get the words out. “I never thought about that before.”

Chan had no such problem. “Well, maybe you should. There are many who would gladly be that person for you.”

You gave him a look. “And who would they be?”

A slight cock of his head. “____, who is your best friend, in the same class as you, share the same interests and would help you out in any way whatsoever?”

The question rather befuddled you. Why couldn’t the man just say the answer already? You thought of the few viable options, tossing, turning the names.

Then it occurred to you. Your friend’s face sparked a little in what could only have been hope.

“I know!” you exclaimed, holding onto his arm. “I should ask Jisung!”

The little sliver of hope in his eyes morphed into annoyance. “What the fuck?”

Raising your brow, you asked, “Is that not the right answer?” You listed out the evidence. “He’s basically my best friend, is in music with us, we like similar things and would be willing to help me in any situation. I think.”

When you were done, you found yourself more confused when Chan closed his eyes, shaking his head. “What?” you demanded.

“Oh my God.”

His fingers caressed yours, and you gasped to find your skin prickling at the touch. You raised your eyes to his, and found yourself lost for words.

“You dumb bitch, I should be your friends-with-benefits.”

Your mouth dropped.

Perhaps you would have said something, but then his thumb began stroking your skin, and you figured it was better to relish that instead. Thus, you looked at him, gobsmacked, not entirely sure what to say to his declaration.

It seemed Chan was a little nervous too. “Look, I can tell you’re surprised…” he paused, a little lost for words as well. “Fuck, I guess I shouldn’t have suggested so early into the breakup, but you just…”

He pinned you with his gaze. “I couldn’t have my best friend miss out on the pleasure she deserves. And if that means giving you the pleasure myself, then I will do it.”

Bang Chan. Not just the best friend you’ve ever had, but the man who proposed benefits to this certain friendship.

“Well,” you got out, after what seemed like eternity. “Well damn.”

“We don’t have to do anything right now. Or even anytime soon.” He let go off your hands, and you did not know why the touch was missed so greatly. “Just...think about it for me, will you?”

You didn’t really have it in you to refuse. “Of course,” you said, feeling the need to touch something. Your eyes fell upon the remote, and figured you should distract yourself by watching the next episode of the series you previously watched.

You needed a clear distraction, or else Chan would not need to wait long for his answer.

The episode began, and you watched, clamping your lips together as you felt the man shuffle closer to you, one hand sprawled on the top of the couch with his other hand idly surfing on his laptop. You rooted your eyes to the screen, finding yourself engulfed in 1920s England, trying to forget that your best friend left no space between you two.

Managing to somehow distract yourself from the lack of distance, you even began to relax, swooning softly of the gangster’s mannerisms towards his love interests, their intimate dancing in her bedroom. It was touching, and you even let yourself lean into your friend, who, too, glanced every now and then, a little smile upon his face.

Everything was fine and dandy until the characters started to kiss.

Now, there was nothing wrong with kissing. You were a hopeless romantic, and adored to see the actions of love on screen, the final breaking of barriers between two characters.

The problem was, the kissing did not seem to end there. The bigger problem was that this lust on screen made you all the more aware of your best friend beside you.

You froze, watching with no small amount of confused shock as the characters increased their desires, unbuttoning their clothes, discarding them as their lips moved against each other’s. Your eyes widened at the nudity, once never a bother but suddenly extremely embarrassing, as they collided, bare chest to bare chest.

The matters did not help at all when you sensed the increased beating of Chan’s heart, almost as loud as the instruments harmonising in the background. His searching on his laptop had ceased, as frozen as you were as his eyes refused to look away to the man and woman making love.

It was too much. You had seen much worse scenes in your life before, but never had one made you so hot and bothered. Of course you knew why, though. Of course you knew, when the man you laid your head upon was breathing harder than you do when you walk up a flight of stairs.

You did not waste a minute longer as you pointed the remote to the TV, and switched the screen off. Completely black, void of further lust radiating through the glass.

A shuddered breath escaped Chan. “Well...double damn.”

You did not answer back. Only distanced yourself on the sofa, his fingers on the couch brushing against the back of your head. His touch may have been the last thing you needed then.

But that was not true. Seeing that sex scene, all glorified and affectionate, had you craving his touch. Your eyes could not bear to meet him, but his presence was suffocating enough. God, if you did not leave that couch now, you would dare to do something quite unimaginable.

Chan did not seem to move either. Your presence, too, had him nearly choking out a pained sob. Anymore time spent, and he would have another problem erecting soon.

At last, when a few minutes seemed like hours, you felt your friend stir. You were surprised to be devastated at the prospect of him leaving.

You were further shocked when, as Chan mustered all the strength in himself to get off the couch, he was stopped by your hand encircling his wrist.

Whirling his head at your direction, his eyes widened. He was met with your own aghast ones, as your hand tugged him back to the couch.

You did not let go of his wrist as you whispered the words you never thought would have left your mouth that night.

“Let’s do it, Chan.”

His hand went limp in your hold.

For a second you thought he died under your grasp, but the way he parted his mouth went against your judgement. Perhaps you had sent his living soul flying out of his body, but you could not blame him — you did not feel at all like yourself just then.

“I wanna do it,” you murmured, refusing to let go.

Chan’s eyes darted to the tight hold upon his wrist, and then to you once more. He opened his mouth, closing it straight after as he glanced away.

With a heavy sigh, he looked to you once more, an abundance of emotions swirling in his usually mischievous, soft eyes.

“Are you sure, ____?” He leaned a little closer, causing your heart to malfunction for a second. “You don’t have to think about it now—”

“Well, it’s all I can think about,” you cut him off, eyes never leaving him, despite the reddening of your cheeks. “And I want to do it.

“Like I said, Chan.” You shuffled a little closer, and your knees brushed against his. “I am deprived of pleasure.”

The man blinked once, twice, taking your declaration all in. He had to tell himself that this was not a dream, but a very much a fortunate reality, and that you were asking him of something he had been wanting to give you for a very long time.

There it was. Something he wasn’t quite ready to admit. You wanting your desires met by him was so much more than enough.

Dreaming still, he slithered one hand around your waist, almost like second nature as the other found refuge upon your face. His fingers were tender, softly caressing your cheeks as his eyes beheld you in a way he had never before..

This change of sight had you unable to look away from him.

“If you feel uncomfortable with all this…” he swept away a stray curl. “I will stop. That’ll be the end of it.”

You nodded, finding solace within his eyes. “I know.”

But there was no discomfort. Rather an impatient welcome, a growing urge for your needs met. Promises fulfilled.

When you sensed him lean closer, so shy and yet so determined, hands still holding you, those vows were sure to be carried out.

You found out in the best way possible — the second when Chan brushed his lips against yours.

His touch had you flying out your skin; well, not really, but it sure felt as such, when his mouth moulded with yours, a confirmation that he was strangely perfect for your own two lips, that he was meant to embed himself upon your mouth.

You closed your eyes, heart climbing up your chest as your hands skimmed around his neck. Chan began his movements, and you were so unaccustomed to the actions that you could not help but be led by his kiss. The man had a way of making you listen to his every order, vocalised or not.

The kiss was so...unreal. It was all that rang in your mind, over and over as the man took his time; he carried out a sensual rhythm upon your lips, not only to avoid overwhelming you, but to fully take in his situation — that he was kissing you, and no other girl who he had never dreamed of.

He had all the time in the world for this.

The hand upon your waist gripped onto you a little harder, nails skirting around the hem of your shirt. His tongue teased you now, running along for entrance, to delve inside and drink in your every essence. Your mouth practically begged the man to prowl inside, opening up to him completely, a signal of full trust.

You wanted this as much as he did.

His elated rush was expressed through his tongue, when it slithered inside your mouth. Butterflies erupted in your body at the way he swirled it along with yours, almost playing with your tongue as if you both did. Of course, this is slightly different, because your gimmicks with Chan never had you salivating at the mouth. Nor feeling like you’re about to leak into your clothes from his touches.

Which really was the situation you ended up in; Chan, his hand now skimming under your shirt, revelling the skin of your abdomen, warming beneath his touch. The hand, once upon your face, had latched upon your locks, while you ran your fingers through his own velvety hair, nearly undoing yourself over the soft feel.

Just when you thought he was going in for more, he broke away, hands still upon you — your breathing was ragged, the man in front of you panting slightly as well. His eyes, with no small amount of surprise, seemed a little feverish, whether that be from a random cold he contracted during the minutes he kissed you, or…

Or, as you found yourself biting your lip, he took an intoxicated toll over you, and how exquisite it was to drive his tongue in your mouth.

“Better than Rapunzel?” He whispered, so close his breath fanned your lips, spit-slick thanks to him.

You made sure he was aware of your fingers threading in his locks, eliciting a low murmur. “Rapunzel better not leave the tower again.”

Chuckling, he wasted no time before he was upon you again, an invisible leash on him threatening to snap. He drove the shirt higher, skirting up your sides until he broke away from you for a mere second before peeling the shirt off of you and tossing it beside him.

Heaving, the sight of you in a bra was making the leash all the more tight, hands never leaving your sides as he latched onto your neck. Leaving open-mouthed kisses, down and down until his lips trailed past your collarbone, you let the moans leave your mouth, heightened and quick and unexpected. Suddenly he descended on you, kneeeling on the floor with hands following suit.

Pleasure. You were oozing with pleasure as you hurried for the hems of his black hoodie, needing to have it off and run your hands on the expanse of his chest. Chan, a little preoccupied, did not realise your demands until you whined out your request.

“Chan—!” you gasped out as his lips left your belly, fingers upon the buttons of your trousers. “Hoodie, I need it off!”

The man only continued with his task, taking the zip down. “Up,” he rushed out, gesturing with his hand.

Dazed, you replied with a confused murmur, only understanding the need to take his stupid hoodie off.

He looked up from his endeavours, and the sight of him hovering between your legs nearly undid you. “I mean your hips, baby, put them up.” He grabbed onto the sides of your jeans. “I wanna take this off.”

Gulping, you raised your hips, giving Chan ease to pull your jeans, all the way down until your legs were bare, save for the soiled underwear which he instantly landed his eyes on.

His mouth slipped out an uneasy fuck, which was just the right way to have you leaking even further. “Chan, come on,” you hurried, seething at the throbbing.

His hands pushed you back on the couch, travelling down until they caressed the back of your knees. Pulling you closer from there, he leaned in until he was a few inches away from your moistened cunt, hurting more the longer he made you wait.

It wasn’t his fault, really. He still felt as if he’s living a dream he did not deserve.

Fingers drumming against the back of your knees, the man blew a little upon your folds, and you let out a strained hiss at the soft breeze. This hypersensitivity was going to be your undoing, but even the smallest of actions brought you such thrill.

“I’m about to spoil you good, ____,” he whispered, and before you could reply, he descended.

The first kitty lick along the surface had you in shock.

Tendrils of pleasure gushed inside you, lurking all over your body as Chan swiped his tongue along the outside of your cunt, teasing, shying away, awaiting your reaction. You answered him with an indecipherable noise, a sound which had never escaped you before.

Maybe because no one had ever played with your cunt like this.

You truly had wasted your time with Hyunjin — this man, tasting your arousal, let out a satisfied hum, and when he dug deeper with his tongue, spreading your legs further, the moans you let escape were, for the first time, absolutely real. No acting, no bullshit.

Just like your best friend promised.

“Chan—!” You stuttered out, when he began circling your clit. “God, just like that!” You encouraged further, hips shaking at the way he made a mess of you.

In response his hands left your legs, pressing them upon your hips. To your horror he paused his actions, peering up from your legs.

The slick shining upon his lips could well have made you cum on his face right then and there. “I need you to stay still, baby,” he said, his hands on your hips keeping you in place, as his eyes did the same. “So I can do this properly.

“I don’t want you getting half-assed pleasure, okay?”

His soft demands, his calm explanations brought you in a further state of frenzy. You could not nod faster, chuckling emitting from him as his hands travelled down once more.

“Good girl.”

And his mouth was upon your cunt again, this time the leash finally snapping as his tongue hardened against the seams. Your moans could have been heard in the hallways, but you didn’t particularly care when Chan, in the midst of his ravenous lapping, introduced the prospect of his fingers, caressing your dripping folds, swiping them over around the edges.

You didn’t know what to do — your hands scrambled to fist the fabric of the couch, laying back against the pillows. The hold grew tighter when your best friend slid his middle finger inside of you.

The journey may have been slow, but that was what made it all the more delightful. Feeling it go deeper and deeper had a particularly loud groan flying out of you, but the rhythm he adopted, pulling it out, but then diving it back again without leaving your cunt, had you delirious.

A once foreign, unimaginable feeling you never thought you’d experience, was back inside — the heavy sensation deep within your gut, like a dull ache which grew more known the harder Chan worked between your legs. The feeling you had only ever experienced when you imagined Donghyuck instead of your ex-boyfriend in this similar situation.

Fuck, there it is, you thought. The feeling of your incoming orgasm.

And it was not going to go if this man worked harder than the devil tonight.

“Chan—fuck—” you got cut off when he increased the speed of his finger inside of you. “I-I’m close.”

Never ceasing his finger, he looked up at you, hooded eyes welcoming you despite the tenderness on his face. “You’re doing so good, ____. So fucking good for me,” he cooed, melting your heart despite the situation.

This time, he accompanied his fingering with a second digit, stretching out your walls and working harmoniously together in making you submit to him. Already you felt as if he’d filled you up, and the actions of his digits practically scissoring inside of you had every muscle in your body readying for release.

He dove back in, merciless to your clit, and all this work, everything at once, was so much that when you cried out, your release had to follow through. You couldn’t control yourself as you let your cum escape, staining the couch and the floor — most importantly, how most of it landed in Chan’s mouth.

Breathing unevenly, and louder than you ever thought possible, you closed your eyes, slumping further into the couch. You sensed an emptiness inside you, and figured Chan had taken out his fingers. Opening your eyes, you saw him close your legs together, propping his head upon your lap, hands supporting his chin. He looked up at you, licking his lips free of your residue.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

The man smiled at you. “Satisfied?” he asked, fingers caressing your skin.

Oh, of course you were. Damn it, you were more than satisfied — you were positively elated. If he had managed to make you cum with his fingers and tongue alone, imagine what he could have done with his dick.

You blinked.

Imagine what he could have done with his dick.

“____?”

Perking up, you looked to the man kneeling before you still, anticipation brimming in his stature. “Please tell me you didn’t fake it.”

Embarrassment engulfed your body at the idea. “Chan, if you really think I faked all of that then I deserve an Oscar.”

Pride washed over his features. “Good.”

You then watched him slowly get up, climbing over you, hands skirting up your figure till he captured your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. You had enough strength to kiss him back, but failed to exceed him when he began nibbling upon the swell of your lip, making you revert to stage one of your growing need all over again.

Breaking away, you glanced up at him, holding onto his hoodie. “I want...more.”

The man stilled his actions, hands going limp upon your skin. You had about three seconds of panicking as you tugged on his clothes, whispering, “Wait, Chan, it’s okay if—”

But suddenly, his hands left your face, and the panic increased with you being lifted into the air, his hold under your knees and back as he brought you close to his chest.

His eyes upon you were a hazard to your well-being. “God, ____, you could really ruin me.”

Your flustered nature was interrupted by Chan rushing to his bedroom, kicking the door open with his feet and pressing quick kisses upon your mouth, your cheeks, all over your face as you giggled out in reaction, arms locked around him.

His room was the same as his attire, black on black on even more black, save for a few gold corners and grey instruments settled in the far end of the space. His bed, however, was vast and comfortable, a place you have slept in many a time when late night recording sessions turned into sleepovers.

Gently, he laid you down on his bed, feeling the cool sting of the night air on your cunt, making you shiver. Your bra was useless in keeping you warm, but when Chan began to take off his hoodie, shirt dragging out along with it, you suddenly began to feel a lot hotter.

Discarding the clothes, you were rewarded with the image of shirtless Chan, slightly disheveled due to his endeavours between your legs. His smile revealed a hint of arrogance as he acknowledged your blatant staring, slowly taking off his sweatpants.

“Careful, baby, or you’ll cum right there,” he mused, noticing the way your legs shivered in ecstasy. He dumped his clothes along with the others, catching sight of his Calvins barely containing his erection.

You felt the mattress press down as he prowled to you upon the bed, the more chaos erupting in your gut the further he came closer. You could barely contain yourself when he hovered over you, lips mere inches from yours. A powerful force within you halted your very breath — you knew, though, that at this particular moment, your entire soul rested in the hands of this man, looking at you through long lashes.

He enveloped your lips, grinding his clothed erection against your cunt, drinking in your whines, your silent pleas of replacing it with the real deal. He smirked against your mouth, opening the seams as his one hand grabbed onto yours, leading it to the waistband of your boxers.

Your fingers fumbled to take peel down the fabric, Chan parting from your lips to take it off entirely. His cock sprang free, and you let out a god-awful, shrill-like noise at the way it stood, red and angry and so very fucking big.

“Fuck me,” you slipped out in a breath, earning a chuckle from him.

“I very much plan to,” he had the nerve to reply, you wanting very much to slap his shit-eating grin off of him. Or perhaps kiss it till your breath was lost.

Embarrassed, you tried to look away, but his fingers gripped your chin, leading your eyes to his. Other hand holding onto your hip, he gently positioned himself between your legs, precum already staining your folds. Breathing stunted, your stare reflected subservience, a request to bury his dick inside you already.

He read your every plea.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he let out a shuddered breath before beginning the final descent.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Chan slid his cock inside — your mouth parted from the transition, at the tightening sensation as he kept going, burying those inches until your eyes were as wide as saucers, unable to look away from him. You dared not move, fear of snapping more a reality in your head than some far-fetched delusion.

Dragging his stare from your slit to your face, he caressed your cheek, offering you a small smile.

“Don’t be quiet, okay?” he asked, hand on your hip like iron.

Nodding, it was all the signal he needed.

Just as gradually, he began to slide out, and, with his words in mind, you let yourself be shameless. The rhythm of his hips, the pain-stakingly tempered movement, made you whine profusely, and when the man slithered inside once more, moaning lewdly was your only reaction. It was all your brain could think of, when his cock was the sole deity which mattered in this moment.

His pace began to fasten, though, grunting erratically as his grip on you tightened. Your cunt was taking a toll, your second orgasm of the night a great possibility as you felt it inside you, as tangible as the dick being pushed and pulled out into you.

“F-faster!” you wailed out, and God bless Chan, for he obliged you completely, increasing his rhythm, practically abusing your slit with the way he fucked into you. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes, and you let them fall, for there was no hiding your emotions with this man.

Your best friend could see right through you anyway.

Chan’s strength seemed unhuman as he thrusted his cock into you faster and faster, and you knew if he did not stop then you would cum all over for the second time. The very image had you on the edge of your sanity.

When his cock hit your g-spot you really believed yourself hitting seventh heaven of delight. White spots blurred your vision, tears now your beloved companion as they trailed down your cheeks. “I’m c-close, fuck—” you tried to voice, but were cut off when slid out once more, tip never leaving your folds.

His hair stuck to his forehead, beads of sweat peppered on his face as he crushed you with his lips, relishing your whines. His tongue befriended yours, and the swirling of your muscles with each other had brought a new form of high bubbling within you.

You moaned his name onto his lips, hands sliding around his neck, pulling you as close as physically possible. This was it. You could not wait any longer. You wanted your undoing, and you wanted it now, in these sheets, within his arms, within his hypnotic presence.

It was incredibly fortunate that Bang Chan could read you like the back of his hand.

Parting from your mouth, he kissed a sloppy trail all the way to your ear, lips grazing against the lobe.

“Go on, then,” he purred, leaving a small kiss to your skin. “Cum for me.”

His words were all you needed before you let yourself go, crying out as release poured from the tight spaces your cunt offered, and onto the sheets below. You wheezed in a few breaths, tired gasps gripping your body.

Chan, within the second, pulled out, just in time for him to let out a pained growl as he came onto his bedsheets. Some of the fluids sullied your legs, but seemed the perfect time as he collapsed right beside you, breathing as heavily as you were.

You and Chan were the only noise in the room — however, if one could translate emotions into sound, that would be an entirely different matter.

At least for you. You could barely contain your elation.

An emptiness may be present inside of you, but it was now replaced with a full heart. Fuck, you could not believe you had finally been given pleasure, such unadulterated satisfaction that you wondered whether it truly occurred, or was just another fantasy — this time with Chan’s face plastered rather than your infatuation of the month.

Sensing the said-man move, you turned to your side, smiling to see his stare fixated on you. Shifting closer, he curled a stray lock from your face behind your ear. “How’re you feeling?” he asked gently, hand on your face still.

You laid your head against your arm. “I am so pissed I didn’t break up with Hyunjin sooner.”

Laughing, his fingers trailed downward, sketching onto your collarbone. “You…” he paused, biting his lip with what you saw, surprisingly, as apprehension. “You really liked it?”

Your eyes darted to the surroundings, smirk spreading across your lips. “I mean, I am an insanely good actress...”

His shock horror had you spluttering into laughter. When he tried to turn his back to you and sulk, you held onto his arm, keeping him in place. “Oh, stop! You know I’m joking, you big oaf.”

Pouting, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “You better be,” he muttered, earning further giggles from his truly. The laughter was replaced with your yawning, which Chan instantly picked up on. “Hey, ____, you should sleep.” He began stroking your hair. “You’re really tired.”

You tried to object, but your intended groans become more deep yawns, proving his point. He passed his fingers over your eyelids, fluttering them close. “I’m not hearing anything else!”

Stinging out your tongue in what you hoped was at his direction, you grudgingly obliged. “Fine.”

You felt him sigh upon your face. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, Hyuck.”

“Nevermind, I hope you have a terrible sleep.”

With your last round of exhausted laughter, you let yourself fall into oblivion, safe in your best friend’s arms.

YOU WOKE UP WITH CHAN ALREADY GONE.

It was not such a huge disappointment. The man had warned you before that he had to leave early to meet up with his supervisor. In all honesty, maybe it was good he was not there, next to you in his sheets.

Your hands gripped those very sheets, raising them right under your chin as you looked up to the ceiling, watching the dried swirls of black paint overlapping each other.

“Oh my God.”

Indeed. Here you were, in your best friend’s bed, basking in his scent, in his world. Of course, you always seemed to smell of him, considering you both never seemed to let go of each other, but last night was different.

Obviously, because Bang Chan had never rocked your shit before.

Your legs began to tingle at the thought. Even the mere memory had you feeling a mysterious sensation all over your body, reminders of the places Chan had looked, touched, tasted. God, you did not think, did not let yourself think further or you’d be calling that man this second.

You knew you had to get up at some point — you had some recording to do today, and more assignments to hand in. You had tasks, obligations to take care of. Unfortunately, the warmth of your best friend’s bed was much too enticing for you to submit to the requests of reality, and so you let yourself lay there for moments longer, in hope you can recreate the scene in your head once more.

There was no lie about this. Bang Chan knew how to fuck you into another dimension.

Just when you were about to dream into last night, your phone vibrated harshly against the bedside table. Curious, you stretched out your hand, grabbing the object and checking who so rudely disturbed your shameless manifesting.

CHRIS THE PISS:

just stopped by the medical room,,, want me to get a wheelchair?

CHRIS THE PISS:

cause im sure asf u can’t walk rn

You rolled your eyes until it hurt. Stupid prick.

YOU:

i haven’t gotten out of bed actually

CHRIS THE PISS:

oh damn

CHRIS THE PISS:

i PARALYSED u??

CHRIS THE PISS:

why am i so powerful

“This asshole,” you muttered.

YOU:

STFUU COCKY MF

CHRIS THE PISS:

It’s ok you’ll cute in a wheelchair

YOU:

?!?!?!?!!?!

CHRIS THE PISS:

but tell me

CHRIS THE PISS:

how good was it

This had you pausing.

CHRIS THE PISS:

outta ten

Now here was a rating you couldn’t bring yourself to confess.

All you wanted to do was give him a solid ten — the man finally offered you a better view of sex and how it can be appreciated, and the way he guided you through it was more than just adequate.

But the thing was, you and Chan hadn’t ever given each other 10/10s.

A perfect score was a rarity in your dynamic; possibly a rating never revealed before because you and Chan had promised each other never to exaggerate on this system. The only time you had ever used the solid ten was when he made you his first ever song at the tender age of nine. At the time, it was a terrible tune, with beats all over the damn place with no form of rhythm, but because he made it especially for you, you voiced your true opinion and rated him the perfect score.

Again, the situation here was different.

So, instead of the truth, you resorted to irritation.

YOU:

2/10 :)

You waited for his text.

However, you did not receive it.

Only the shrill ringtone of your phone, snapping you further into consciousness.

Groaning, you swiped right onto the screen, pressing the speaker button.

“Now I know you’re lying!”

Laughing, you propped the phone beside you on the bed, upon the place where Chan would have been. “You got a big ego there, hun.”

“That may be true, but my cock is bigger, so I still win.”

You were glad he was not here — the man would have sensed your embarrassment in an instant.

It was worse because he was not lying. “Now tell me, Pinocchio,” he continued, voice interrupting as the noise of the students around him came through the receiver. “Out of ten.”

“I already messaged it to you, buddy,” you said impassively, or at least you tried. “A solid two would suffice.”

God, you could almost feel your nose growing.

Perhaps he felt it too, for he answered, with no small amount of pride, “I’m gonna pretend I fucked you so good you forgot how to think properly.”

You could not help gulping, raising the sheets over you. It wasn’t exactly hard on boning, but even so...you really thought for a second you’d lose all feeling in your legs last night.

“Shut up, Chan.”

“Shut up, Chan,” he parroted, which had you threatening to hang up. “Don’t think I’ve let you go on this subject.”

“Try me, buddy,” you jeered.

“And for Christ’s sake, stop calling me ‘buddy’,” he demanded. “Or else I’m pulling a Hyunjin.”

“A Hyunjin?”

“Yeah, a Hyunjin.” You heard the sound of horns blaring at the end of his call. “Ruining your sex life.”

That nearly made you freak. “Damn, I won’t say it again, Christopher Bang, musical name Bang Chan, nicknamed Chris the Piss—”

You heard his chuckling through the phone. “All that for my dick. I must have changed your life, ____.”

Heating up from his stupid comments, you grabbed the phone from the table. “I’ll see you in the studios, asshole.”

His smugness ran rich in his voice. “Buh-bye, baby.”

The minute the call ended, you sighed heavily, clutching the phone to your chest.

He did change your life.

Not necessarily your entire life, but certainly a huge aspect of it. A small part of you was horrified at how easily he shifted your daily balance, making you ponder over him more often, with much more intensity than before. Were you a sex maniac? Were you so deprived of being touched that one night of fun had you begging like a woman starved?

“Whatever,” you groaned, swinging your legs to the side of the bed, and upon the carpet. “Fuck Chan.”

Hopefully tonight.

FUCKING AROUND WITH CHAN MIGHT HONESTLY BE THE BEST DECISION YOU HAVE EVER MADE IN A LONG, LONG TIME.

And you weren’t the one to make good decisions. You get up an hour before the afternoons, drink Pepsi Max to compensate for your lack of water drinkage, and worst of all, you would gladly sell your body for Colin Firth, especially if he dressed himself up as Mr. Darcy at his age. Whatever setbacks you possessed, you knew that this, at least, was a step in the right direction.

Bang Chan may have been as big a loser as you were, but the man made you feel like a powerful entity. Hell, in all the state, with the way he made you act.

Never before had you become so daring — libraries, which were once your place of study, became a rendezvous for his slender fingers inside your cunt. The living room had become a breeding ground, and even your shower was stained of your promiscuity. There was no place left where you and Chan hadn’t done something scandalous, and you wondered, with no small amount of excitement, on how this new side of your friendship with him would progress.

These thoughts accompanied you as you walked to your destination. It was not far off as you entered campus, and smiled at the few students who passed by.

Soon, you found yourself in the music department, and walked through the familiar halls, littered with posters of different artists and singers in their peak careers. A few trophies were boasted of behind a glass screen, but the surroundings all became irrelevant when you approached your designated music rooms.

Expecting Chan to be inside, headphones adorned, you did not bother knocking, strolling straight into the room. However, you stopped completely when a giant, hoodie-clothed back did not greet you.

Instead, it was a tinier hoodie-clothed back, faded yellow over the trademark black. Although not your best friend, you instantly recognised the alternative, and smiled.

“Jisung!”

The boy did not seem to hear, for he kept bobbing his head, no doubt trying out beats.

You tiptoed slpwly until you stood right behind him. Then, in a flash, you snapped your hands upon his shoulders.

“Boo!”

A shrill, terrified yell erupted, chair being swivelled suddenly as the back hit against the controls. You took a step back out of shock too, a choked giggle escaping when you beheld the face of Han Probably-shit-his-pants-Jisung.

“Oh my fucking God,” he rasped out, hand on his chest. He then locked eyes with you, and suddenly his quivering mouth melted into a smile of relief. “Ah, ____!”

“The one and only.” You sat down on the neighbouring chair. “Sorry if I made you shit your pants. It was fully attended.”

“Stop,” he insisted, taking off his headphones and scooting a little closer to you. “These are new jeans as well.”

“Not my fault if you’re a pussy,” you chanted, picking up the headphones, settling them upon your ears. “Can I listen?”

“Of course!” Jisung pressed a few keys on his laptop, and the music began.

Your eyes widened in surprise to hear pleasant, almost lo-fi background before his voice flooded in, comforting you with his soft lilt and meaningful lyrics. On instinct your head bobbed along to the rhythm of the beat, smiling at the wordplay and the rising vocals.

“Jisung, this is really good!” you exclaimed. The boy waved off the compliment, but you instantly saw his face reddening. “Oh, stop it, you know that you’re one of the best out here.”

If you thought he couldn’t get more flustered, he proved you incredibly wrong. “Don’t say that,” he shrilled, propping his feet up on the chair and hugging his legs tightly. When he saw the look on your face, though, he smiled, teeth and all. “Thank you, ____. It means a lot coming from you.”

“Oh, I’m no musical genius,” you said, pressing the play button to hear his music. “Just a motherfucker who can appreciate a song of the year when she hears one.”

Jisung nearly passed out from your compliment, but you did not take it much into account as you focused all your attention on the piece. It was an undoubted fact that Han Jisung was an extremely talented dude. You already knew you could never compete with him, but he was certainly up to Chan’s level of musical expertise. With all this talent brimming around you, you made a mental note never to make more gifted friends in the future.

Once the song ended, you took off the headphones, propping them gently upon the table. “I think you’ve inspired me to do some actual work.”

The boy was still smiling as he reached his hand out, planting it upon your own on the table. “Well, I’m honoured to be your inspiration.” His eyes reached yours, and you were engulfed with his warmth. “The feeling is more than mutual.”

You offered him a grin, and were about to say something when the door opened.

Turning, you were welcomed by Chan’s dark figure at the studio entrance, holding two cups of coffee. Despite his black attire, you found yourself admiring a little too brazenly the bare face he never exposed in public, the beanie hiding his curls, and the tick in his jaw, which heightened further when he took in the scene.

The actions were quick — the darting of his eyes as they started on you, then travelled to your hand, engulfed with another’s. He raised them to the man guilty of the touch, and found himself staring at Jisung, beaming not only from you anymore, but at the arrival of his friend.

The joy was not returned.

“Chan!” Jisung greeted, letting go of your hand innocently as he ushered your best friend over.

He nodded in return, gaze back to you as he walked, a little too slowly, to the two of you. He put the two beverages upon the table next to the keyboards. “I didn’t know you were in as well,” he said. After a pause, he added, “I would have gotten another coffee.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” he assured him, even though it did not look like he needed any reassurances.

Catching onto Chan’s attitude, you slid your coffee to the boy beside you. “I don’t want any right now. You take it.”

You took note of the pursed lips, and ignored it as Jisung widened his eyes. “No, no, it’s okay—”

“Ji, I insist,” you pestered him, driving the cup within his grasp. “You look so tired.”

He offered you a lovely smile before taking the beverage. “Thank you.”

Chan, watching this little conversation, had him clamping his lips together, possibly to not say something stupid. It was a little habit of his, thankfully in action. He slid the other cup to you. “You can have mine.”

You looked up at him. “I’m good, buddy.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Share.”

You rolled your own, taking a sip of the coffee, and thanked yourself for not being petty enough to refuse him. “Fine.”

Jisung swivelled his chair so he faced Chan, fingers upon his laptop. “Do you wanna listen to the demo?” He grabbed the headphones, holding it out to him. “I’m nearly done with it.”

“You can send it to me later,” was his curt answer, as he took the cup from you and drank.

You looked at him in exasperation, but the boy nodded in satisfaction, picking his bag off the floor. “That’s chill!” he said, heaving off the chair. “I got all the time, so don’t worry too much about it.”

He then turned to the two of you as he strolled to the door. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you both something.”

“Spit it out, then,” Chan jeered, which had you glaring at him. What the fuck was his problem?

Jisung did not catch on, continuing. “So, later this week, Changbin and I are throwing a party, and I was hoping you both would like to come.”

You perked up at that piece of information. “That’s something I like to hear!” Snatching the coffee cup from your friend, you purposefully took a huge gulp. “Any specific date?”

“I was hoping Friday night.” A small sip of his drink. “We just wanted to have some fun after a difficult week, dissertations and all.” His gaze never faltered from yours. “You in?”

Chan, noticing, settled in the space previously taken, and raised a hand in objection. “Sorry, Ji. ____ and I always do something Friday night. Gotta uphold the tradition.”

You turned to face him, a brow raised. He wasn’t wrong, in all honesty. But why did he mention it now?

Jisung, too, was a little curious. “Oh?” He fixed the strap of his bag. “I won’t get in the way, then.”

He turned, and you made to open your mouth only to have Chan press a finger to your lips. His brows were furrowed, which you matched until he left the finger as the boy looked back once more.

“I’ll see you around, guys!” he exclaimed, eyes sliding to you before opening the door, and leaving the studio.

After a few seconds of silence, you faced your friend, who had the audacity to sigh in relief. “What the fuck was that?”

The man shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes you do!” you finished the last of the coffee, throwing the empty cup in the bin nearby. “Why were you being such a dick to Jisung?”

“No I wasn’t,” he only said. “I was being the perfect gentleman.”

“Stop it, man!” You couldn’t believe his stupidity in the situation. “He was being so lovely, asking for your opinion on his music, inviting us to his party and shit. Why were you being so mean?”

Chan only shook his head, turning away from you as he made to put his headphones on. You, on the other hand, were not going to be satisfied with silence, and grabbed his arm, wrenching him toward you. “Chan?!”

He turned to look at you, and you hitched in a breath — you had never really pondered over your friend’s angered face, nor really drank in his heightened features before. However, in this moment in time, with his eyes darkened, bare face twisted, frizzy morning curls all over the place, you had to stop yourself from the butterflies fluttering downwards. You’re supposed to be mad, not horny.

Your hand upon his arm — his tensed bicep, specifically — seemed almost feeble now. Still, you were glad it was on there, if only to feel his muscle bulge.

Chan studied you and your dazing, and made you jump when he guttered. “What?”

Instantly getting back to the situation, you cursed yourself silently for letting your desires try to take the reins. “I said,” you continued, trying your hardest not to be fazed by his eyes, “Why are you being such a massive prick to Ji?”

He cocked his head slightly, and if he leaned any further his lips would brush against yours. “I’m being a massive prick, ____, because he really fucking likes you.”

You felt hands upon your waist, tugging you off your seat. With a yelp you found yourself upon the man’s lap, hands encircling you fully.

Even though you looked down at him, his stare had you shaking. “And that really fucking pisses me off.”

You couldn’t suppress a shudder, an action which had not gone unnoticed. A smile ghosting his face, he craned his neck upwards, catching your lips and rendering you completely at his mercy. Your fingers went straight in his morning curls, carding through the locks as he captured your bottom lip in his, sucking on it to the point a whine escaped you, helpless and shameful.

He left a trail of heated kisses down your throat, fingers skirting underneath your cardigan, your shirt, and savouring the skin. His mouth landed on a particular part, grazing his teeth against it as he softly nipped at the skin. Your breath quivered at each flushed kiss he branded upon you, but when his free hand began undoing the top buttons of your shirt, you finally called out his name.

“Chan!” you gasped out, shivering at the lovebites stinging your throat. It did not seem like the man would stop, unbuttoning your shirt just so he could glimpse the sliver of your lacy bra, humming with satisfaction. “Chan, w-wait!”

He paused his actions, tilting his head upwards in irritation. “Do you mind?” he asked, pouting too cutely for his words.

“Yes, I do,” you answered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Why are you so mad, buddy?”

A harsh scoff was your reply. “Well, first of all, because you never stop calling me that.”

You pinched the back of his neck, but when he pursed his lips, you leaned in, pressing your forehead against his. “Chan, you’re overreacting. He’s just a motherfucker trying to gain your approval.”

“I think it’s more your approval,” he countered, nuzzling his head against your shoulder. “With the way the asshole can’t keep his name out of your mouth. God! And the way he held your hand? Like you were his one and only?!”

“Jealousy isn’t a cute look on you, hun,” you mused, but in reality, you were lying through your teeth. His jealousy was like fuel to your turned on fire.

“Permission to punch him in the face?”

“You might have to put a hold to that.”

“Fuck.”

Raising his head, his agitation grew in his eyes as you beheld him. “He just...goddammit, he just makes me so angry at times.”

You played with his curls. “How angry?”

He held onto you tighter. “9/10.”

That certainly made you do a double take.

9/10. A rare rating, you noticed with quite some surprise. It did reflect the fury which Jisung unintentionally ignited, but you did not realise how much it truly affected him. The two had always been friends, as far as you were concerned, but you had to admit that Chan never really felt as easy with him as he did with you.

Of course, because you were his closest friend.

“I know,” he said then, snapping you out of your thoughts. “It’s...unreasonable...but I don’t care. I really don’t give a shit.”

Clamping your lips together, you watched him look away, swaying you back and forth upon his lap. Well, you couldn’t have a dear friend sulking away when you knew Jisung meant nothing and less to you.

Suddenly, a very pleasing idea came to mind.

“Chan,” you murmured, fingernails grazing against his neck.

Sensing goosebumps form there, you were met with his undecipherable gaze. “Yeah?”

You brushed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “How about,” you began, trailing down to his nose, “I help…” you carried on, another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Soothe your irritation?”

Although completely compliant to your touches, he grumbled, “The only way you can do that if you consent to me giving Jisung a broken nose.”

“Hmmm…well...” you peppered another kiss, and felt his hands wander lazily once again. “This is a very close second.”

Catching the implications dwelling in your gaze, you could have sworn the man’s breathing halted. His tongue swept along his teeth, and you had a dire wish to replicate that action with your own tongue.

“Come here, then,” he guttered.

The lower octave had you nearly squealing as you pressed your lips fully onto his, giggling when he responded with twice more ardency, the desperation lurking beneath his physique. He pried your mouth open with his tongue, swirling it along with yours as he pressed your body completely against his, refusing to let you go.

On instinct you grinded against him, sensing the outline of his boner beneath you with no small amount of excitement. He groaned into your mouth at the friction, digging his fingers into your skin.

It was a dire shame you had to break away from the kiss, catching his disappointment. “Tease,” you heard him mumble, which had you pecking his lips quickly before sliding your own down his neck, leaving his skin altogether.

Slumping downward, you kneeled before Chan as he spread his legs before you, struggling down his black trousers till he revealed the angry outline of his erection underneath his dark boxers. You noticed, with pride, how the top of the fabric was stained with arousal.

“I think your dick is angrier than you around Jisung right now,” you said, failing to contain your amusement.

Chan’s eyes promised murder. “I’m so glad my cock will shut your stupid mouth up,” he jeered.

Thank God you were kneeling, cause that comment alone would have made you fall.

Shuffling closer, you raised your hand to his boxers, feeling his clothed length between your fingers. The touch had your friend growling much too loud, a reaction you enjoyed thoroughly.

“How about a little less teasing,” he seethed, gripping onto the arms of his chair, “And a little more sucking, baby?”

Baby. You didn’t know why now, of all times, it struck a deep chord within you. His command had you reaching for the waistband, pulling his boxers down until his cock sprang free.

The image had you remembering your Lord and Saviour.

You don’t know why you kept forgetting how insanely big Chan’s cock really was. Its length was inside of you on almost a daily basis, so maybe all this foolery had finally gotten to your head. Observing it now, hard and veiny as it curved against his stomach, the only reaction you could offer was your mouth breaking its seams.

“Staring at it won’t be enough, ____.”

Gulping, you planted one hand upon his leg, the other wrapping around the shaft. Even the slightest contact had the man hissing, making you smirk at his helplessness. Slightly gurgling, you spat on the head, lubing his member with your fingers, and then you began.

A string of groans escaped him as you commenced, a slow rhythm of pumping his cock as your hand moved up and down. The repetition was constant, neverending as Chan’s grip on his chair threatened to snap the plastic, but you dared not slow down. You knew this was not how he gained his satisfaction — he needed a perfect graduality, a refined art-like stroke or else he’d lose his high. Fortunate for him, though, you never let him down.

You increased your pumping, sensing him containing his moans. You could feel him holding back, but that didn’t stop you at all. In fact, that only had you progressing to the next step, an action that would have him screaming your name.

Shifting even closer, you spread his legs further, Chan’s eyes rooted to you as you directed the tip to your mouth. Letting your tongue free, you swept it along the shaft, and sure enough, an obscenely loud moan emitted from his truly. Chuckling, you carried on, trailing all the way up to the head and ending your journey with an ironically chaste kiss. Staring up at him, you smugly observed his lust-struck face, mouth releasing irregular breaths already. You couldn’t wait to have him curse at you.

Eyes back on the task at hand, you grabbed the base of his cock, opening your mouth. Slowly, aggravatingly slow, you sunk down, taking in inch by inch — Chan pushed his hips forward, and you nearly gagged at the impact of his head hitting the back of your throat.

“Shi-shit baby,” he sputtered, watching you in awe at your work. “You better tell me if you don’t want your throat fucked.”

You answered him with your progression, slowly releasing his cock from your lips, tongue licking his slit before descending back on him again. You tried to be slow — you didn’t want to go straight to deepthroating, but the way Chan choked out his curses was sweet encouragement. Holding his dick still, you began bobbing your head and down, shallow at first, testing the waters.

When the man instinctively began bucking his hips, pushing his cock into your mouth further, you opened your jaw wider, taking in the remaining inches. The gag reflex kicked in like a bitch, but you refused to cease your labour as you increased your pace. Chan leaned in a little, caressing your cheeks as he rutted against your mouth.

“God, you’re fucking perfect, baby,” he cooed breathlessly. “So good for taking my cock like that.”

Unable to smile, you answered him with your hands, now playing with his balls, slapping them slightly to make him groan out in pleasure, head laid back against the chair. “I’m close, ____,” he warned, never stopping his own thrusts. You hoped he never would, when his end was so near.

Taking all of him in, you pressed your hands on his legs, urging you to look at him. With one final home run, you hollowed in your cheeks, surrounding his entire cock in your mouth as you imprisoned him with your hooded gaze.

The image of you, a beautiful ruination, was his undoing.

Chan let out a vicious string of curses as he released, ropes of cum spilling inside your mouth. He slumped into the chair, breathing in the entire county’s worth of oxygen as all energy left him. This time, to add to his lust-driven shock, you swallowed his release, thanking your lucky stars that your friend finally listened and ate some fruit. His cum, at last, tasted more than bearable.

After a few silent moments, the man finally raised himself from the dead, sighing as he beheld you kneeling still. “I think I can’t live without you.”

Chuckling, you heaved yourself up, legs unsteady. “That’s just your inner horny speaking,” you said, nearly falling over on your own feet. Quickly, Chan brought you back onto his lap again, creating an iron grip around you.

“Think what you like,” he began, peppering small kisses on your neck. “But your head game is stronger than my will to punch Jisung, that’s for sure.”

You hummed as he plunged his teeth upon a certain spot, pressing your legs together. “It better be.”

Finding your lips, he lazily kissed you, hands skirting higher as you move your mouth against his, never tired from his touches.

“Have we christened the studio yet?” The man asked in between kisses, pushing his chair forward till your back hit the table.

You shook your head no, already sensing his unbearable grin. You could not help returning his enthusiasm.

And as you both continued in your shameless arrangements, there was one thought that lingered in your head.

There was absolutely no way you were going to that party.

OF COURSE YOU WERE GOING TO THAT PARTY.

You looked to the building, the whole ground floor alight with different, ever-changing lights, and a dim pandemonium welcoming your ears. Your phone pinged with messages, but you dutifully ignored them, taking a deep breath as you took a step inside.

Greeted with a half-full hallway, it was not hard to find the party house, greeting awkwardly to a few drunk acquaintances before entering Jisung’s dorm. You were instantly hit by the smell of sweat and alcohol as the noise of popular music made your ears ring in discomfort. An abundance of students were cramped as they danced along to the tunes, screaming and laughing and simply enjoying themselves.

While observing the scene, a small part of you wished your best friend was with you, an arm slung around you as he makes a comment on the specific people dancing rather terribly in the centre. You could already imagine him in his Friday attire, midnight-kissed with gold chains dangling off his belt, rings adorning his fingers and a little makeup to elevate his already exquisite features. Maybe, if you had insisted, he would have let you paint his nails, something which you adored on him.

Fuck, you thought, searching through the crowd for a place to get a drink. Maybe you shouldn’t have come.

You shook your head, though, beginning to squeeze through the partygoers. No. You can’t let Chan win in this.

And so you found your way to the kitchen, cans of beer, vodka and tequila stacked in broken pyramids to drink away. Just as you made to grab the Smirnoff your hand brushed against another’s. You turned to the direction, and beamed to see Jisung holding out the can for you.

“____!” he exclaimed, barely heard from the commotion yet could feel his joy radiating from him. “Don’t you have a thing with Chan on Fridays?”

“Well, that can happen every Friday, Ji, but your party was only today,” you answered him, and he was more than satisfied.

He grabbed the same drink as yours, cracking it open as he looked at you, stare lingering upon your black dress. “I’m really glad you came, love.”

You blinked at the sudden endearment, but before you could say anything Changbin had interrupted the both of you, threatening to bring the roof down with his whining.

“Pleeease Ji, get me away from her!” he begged, holding onto Jisung’s arm and rocking it back and forth. “She keeps tryna drag me into the bedrooms and I can’t do it with her, bro!”

The boy adorned hints of irritancy, but he let himself be led by his friend, glazing at you. “Wait for me,” he requested.

His answer was a little wave, which he returned dutifully as he began to berate his friend for tearing him away from you. Raising your eyebrow, you turned back to the alcohol, finding some soda water and pouring it into the empty cups along with the Smirnoff. You would have drank the vodka straight from the bottle but you decided against drinking your tits off tonight. You didn’t really have a great desire for intoxication.

You cursed at a few passersby as they bumped against you, nearly knocking the drink off your hands. Fixing your dress, you took the first sip, relishing the strong taste. The songs kept changing, the dancing getting wilder, and at this rate you knew someone was going to get handsy soon.

Drinking away, you snapped the cup on the table beside you, waiting for Jisung to come back.

Why did you even come here?

You instantly soured at the thought.

Still, you could not help pondering further.

You should have stayed home. With him.

You groaned out loud.

It was ridiculous how you were unable to have any idea which didn’t centre around that prick. If he did not want to join you that was on him.

Then were you feeling miserable?

Great. You poured yourself some more diluted vodka. Now you’re a full-time simp.

That helped you down the drink some more. At least this time, in fortunate circumstances, you were not a lightweight, and so were still completely aware of your surroundings.

Aware enough to see a more tousled Jisung stagger toward you, giggling like a little child.

You watched him lunge towards the tequila cans and crack one open, downing half the thing in one go. “Careful, Ji, or you’ll fall to your death!” you warned him, laughing as he exhaled with great exaggeration.

He staggered to where you were standing, slumping against the wall and taking another can. “I’m so sorry!” he simpered, much too loudly for your sober ears.

You raised a brow, about to ask him for what but he was already answering your question. “I made you wait so looong!” he dragged, drinking some more. “Look at you! Leaving you all alone.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly, crossing your arms, drink still in hand. “Just say I have zero friends.”

“Hey, don’t say that!” You were taken aback by Jisung grabbing onto your arm, pulling him to you. He looked you dead in the eyes, wide and alive. “You do not have zero friends!” he declared, louder than before. “I’m your friend.”

Your poor ears hurt like a bitch, but you smiled at his words. “Yes, indeed you are,” you said in earnest. “Thank you, Jisung.”

It was then he blinked slowly, parting his lips as his fingers upon your arm began to wander. “But I wish you didn’t think like that.”

His touch did not go unnoticed at all. You looked at him, raising a brow, but that action went unnoticed. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, you’re a smart girl,” he slurred, voice still soft and innocent as his hand travelled to your shoulder. “You know exactly what I mean.”

Freezing up, you felt the pads of his fingers caress your face. When he tilted his head, you finally saw what he had been trying to show you since the start of the year, the emotions he was too drunk to hide any longer.

Lust. Pure lust swirling in his eyes.

It was like a lightbulb had finally switched on in your grape-sized brain.

“Oh my God!”

Instantly, you pressed your hands to Jisung’s chest, pushing him completely off. He nearly fell flat on his ass, but grabbed the table just in time to stagger back to balance. He glanced upwards, and you saw his eyes widen.

“____?” he got out, but you raised a finger, which he was still intelligent enough to figure out to shut up.

“Ji, what the fuck?” You slapped your drink down on the table, making him jump.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, taking another can. “But it’s the truth, damn it, and I’m tired of having to pretend all the time about it!”

Fuck, you suddenly thought, realising that you needed to get out of this crammed residence. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Jisung, look—” you started, but he groaned out loud, waving off your answer.

“No, no, I know what you’re gonna say.” He then did a terrible impression of you, simpering, “Oh, Ji, I can’t go out with you because I’m soooo in love with my best friend in the whole wide world!”

You snapped your head to his direction. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me clearly!” He finished off his nth can. “Okay, maybe it isn’t a Romeo and Juliet shit going on, but I know something is going on between you two!”

A laugh huffed out of you, but the boy was not convinced. “We’re just friends. Good friends, that’s all.”

Your answer was a hysterical bout of laughter, confusing you even further. “Come on, ____. I’m stupid, but not completely braindead.”

He took a step closer to you, careful of your hands still. “I know Chan practically adores you.”

This little statement made your shit freeze. “Stop it,” you murmured.

“Why?” he demanded. “Because I’m saying something the both of you refuse to listen to?”

“It’s none of your business,” you snapped. “Don’t get mad because I don’t wanna go out with you.”

“I’m not mad because of that.” With one last tequila can, he grabbed it, turning on his heel. “I’m mad because the both of you keep lying to yourselves.”

Before you could counter back, the boy stumbled away from you, hollering to the crowd to leave some space on the dance floor for him. You wondered for a second how he’d handle dancing when he could barely walk properly, but then your thoughts drifted back to the more dire subject at hand.

“Fuck,” you cursed out loud this time.

There it was. The question you should have addressed ever since you started this arrangement with Chan.

Were you really just friends?

You knew the question to that yourself. Both you and him had transcended past that point now, and in a horrifying realisation, you didn’t mind it that much. After experiencing his touch, his whispers, you doubt that you could ever see him as a friend again.

But...to be more?

Fuck indeed. You had a lot to think about tonight.

“But first,” you muttered, “To be out of this stupid party.”

Quickly, after taking two Smirnoff cans, you squeezed past the million drunkards, making your way to the exit. When you were out of the residence, you breathed in the cool night air, a rarity in these sweaty dorm rooms.

You had a small hope, as you walked down the lanes, that Chan would be there, right at the entrance as you left, but he was not there. He had a little habit of going wherever you were supposed to be if you were not home at the expected time, worried sick if you had drank or done something more stupid than usual.

But he was not here today. Maybe going to Jisung’s party made him extremely pissed.

There was a reason he rated it 9/10.

Soon, you were at your building, entering inside and finding your door at the very end of the hallway. Fishing out the keys, you slid them into the lock, careful of the cans, hearing the click! of the unlocking.

Your hand rested upon the doorknob. Eyes staring at the lifeless colour of the door, you closed your eyes, letting out a deep breath.

Stop worrying. Chan is your best friend.

You turned the knob.

Your best friend.

Pushed the door open. Stepped inside.

Right?

“Back so soon?”

Your body shivered at the words. Quickly walking inside the living room, you found the back of the sofa greeting you as per usual, with Chan’s head peering on top as he watched the TV. Walking further, you noticed yours and his favourite show playing on the screen.

“Yeah, it was quite boring, but the real question is,” you began, irritation marring your features, “Why are you watching this without me?”

He didn’t even glance back at you, nor pause the TV. “Oh, I don’t know, ____, maybe because it’s Friday night, and it’s our thing to do this every time? Do tell me if I’m wrong!”

“Shut up, Chan,” you seethed, dumping the Smirnoff on the coffee tables in front of him. “This is the one time I missed this, so stop being such a baby.”

“Oh, so you tell me to shut up,” he jeered, snapping the remote on the table, making you jump slightly. “Fine, I’ll shut up. You won’t hear a word from me again.”

You took a glimpse of his face, and caught this cold fury simmering beneath his skin. Oh no. Had you going to Jisung’s party made him this angry? It was beyond nonsensical now. Bang Chan was the most reasonable man you ever befriended.

Taking in the emotions inhabiting on his face, however, proved otherwise.

I know Chan practically adores you.

The memory brought chills all over you again.

Making your way into the kitchen, you figured to make yourself a midnight snack, hearing the crack! of a can opening behind you. Asshole, you refused to voice out loud, but opened the fridge, taking out leftovers and heating it up in the microwave.

“Anything interesting happened, then?” you heard the dry question travel to you.

Scoffing, you turned, taking out your food. “Oh, I thought I wasn’t hearing a word from you again.”

Your best friend’s smile was anything but sweet. “Well, I figured if you weren’t going to tell me things, I had to ask you myself.”

That snatched any faux amusement you might have harboured. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“You know what the fuck that means!” he snapped, getting up from the couch, pausing the screen. “I can’t believe you’re not telling me.”

“How about a little less attitude and a little more truth, you prick,” you rebuked, putting the cartons on the kitchen counter.

“Fine, I’ll tell you the truth that you’re too much of a pussy to say yourself!” He thundered into the kitchen, Smirnoff still in hand.

You backed up against the counter when he caged you with his glare. “Since when did you start going out with Jisung?”

Instantly your brows furrowed. “Who the fuck told you that?”

“Shit, I knew that bastard wanted to get in your pants,” he roared. “And you let him use you!”

“Woah, woah, buddy, slow down there!” You raised your hands in objection. “I’m not dating Jisung!”

“What?” He took a gulp of the vodka, confusion mixing with his fury. “You’re not?”

“Of course not, the fuck?! Who told you this?”

“He—” but then the cogs turned in Chan’s head, and suddenly it made sense to him. “Oh, for Christ’s sake!”

“What happened?” you asked, but he was drinking some more, cursing himself for even believing such nonsense. “Chan?”

“That son of a bitch called me before you came,” he started, swirling his drink in the can. “And I don’t know why he did, but he kept telling me to back off from you.”

You let out a low curse, but your friend was not finished. “I told him to get some sleep, cause clearly he wasn’t right in the head, but then...he said some words which literally shut me up.”

Then, you saw him hitch in an uncertain breath. “____, he bragged that he asked you out and...and you said yes.”

His reaction had you widening your eyes, mouth parting just a little. “And, damn it, I thought that this is why she’s so nice to this little fucker, giving him my coffee, or missing Friday night for his stupid party. Hell, even suggesting him first to be her friends-with-benefits.

“Because maybe she liked Jisung all along.”

You watched in horror as he finished his drink, crumbling the can and throwing it in the bin beside you. A shuddered breath escaped you at the explanation, but you sucked it in once more when you blinked back the sheer intensity of this man’s stare.

“So...yeah.” He ruffled his hair, breaking the stare as he looked away, face flushing with colour. “That’s why I just...yeah.”

A small part of you melted at his words, and his now embarrassment after expressing his desperate worry for you and your potential relationship.

Still, you had some problems that needed solving. “Chan, then why were you so angry at me?!”

You crossed your arms. “You didn’t even wait to hear what I had to say on the matter.”

“I don’t know, okay?!” he exclaimed, propping his hands to his sides. “I heard Jisung saying all that bullshit, and at the time I was so pissed that…”

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d go out with him, you dumbass!”

“Well, I don’t know, he’s just such a nice guy like you keep saying, and all that flowery poetry for him just went straight into my head!”

The situation almost seemed comical now. “Oh my God, did you really think I liked him?!

“Of course” he cried out, slapping his hands on the counter top next to you, unable to let you escape. As if you even wanted to. “Of course I thought that or else I wouldn’t be shitting my pants all night!”

“Then you’re the dumbest fucking prick I’ve ever met!” you screamed, as you grabbed hold of his hoodie, pulling him closer to you. “Because I don’t like him!

“I like you!”

“Well, I like you too, you stupid bitch!”

The confession had you both stopping, preventing the two of you going deaf from your shouting. The whole fight was completely ridiculous, but when you looked at each other, drinking in the words that just left your lips, the realisation finally dawned on you.

I like you too.

Well, shit. There it was.

The one thing you’d been hiding ever since you decided to fool around with him.

Maybe this was the last way you wanted to tell him, shouting out your declaration to prove his suspicions wrong. It was almost like something out of an unfunny American sitcom — this weird, comic deflation, but at least it was out in the open now.

You had finally told him of your feelings.

A pinch of that anger brewing within his features settled a little, hands still fisted on your sides. His eyes darted on every point of your face, as if he’s trying to memorise every inch, every detail etched upon your skin.

Although his blatant awe made you flustered, the aching inside spoke for you. “Are you going to keep staring all night or just kiss me already?”

God, you were such a bitch.

Chan seemed to think so too. “Nevermind, I fucking hate you,” he snarled, capturing your lips with his in an instant. You smiled against his mouth as you kissed him back with the same intensity, the same need which spread like wildfire in your body.

Kissing him should have become a routine with the amount of times you did it, but every locking of your lips with his sent you in a frenzy, lust-driven emotions spiralling out of control. You welcomed his tongue inside your mouth, the strong taste of tequila and desperation enlivening your inner workings, heightening your need for him, him, and only him.

His hands had no restrictions — the pads of his fingers had their very own needs, their own desire to feel every crevice of your body, your every curve and corner till you have no secret stored in your figure which they did not know of. You welcomed their ravaging, embraced their interrogation as they tried to uncover everything you held dear.

Once these hands found a weakness in the form of your dress altogether, they cleverly found an opening, reaching for the end of your dress lined at your thighs. His fingers hitched the hem upwards, skirting it higher until it bunched at your waist, revealing a red, silken thong, embroidered with black thread. You relished in Chan practically salivating all over the image, but his lust slapped him out of his dazing, and hurried to get it off, hands slipping it down your legs until it was discarded on the kitchen floor.

In an instant the man thrust two fingers inside of you, stretching your walls and creating a hypnotic rhythm of removing and inserting them back again. Your moans could bring down the whole residence, but none of you cared when Chan was scissoring you with his digits on the kitchen counter, desire radiating off his stature, and a determination to completely ruin you stark on his face.

“M-more!” You begged, knowing you could take it, and you were rewarded with a third finger, filling you up as you cried out in pleasure. His mouth quietened you, sucking on your lower lip and then taking all of you, had you delirious, but this insanity only progressed as the thrust of his fingers hit lighting speed.

The three digits had quickened your potential release, right on the tip of your cunt if he did not stop. “I’m g-gonna—fuck—!”

You were interrupted as Chan’s lips left yours, trailing down to your neck, collarbone, brushing his teeth between your chest as he fell to his knees. Pulling you forward, on the edge of the countertop, he spread your legs apart, cock twitching at the drenched cunt which awaited him, like a feast displayed for a starved, wild animal.

Looking up at you, he growled, “Cum when I say so, understand?”

Your hurried nods was all he needed as he dove right in, tongue sliding up your slit, lapping up your arousal as if it was an eternal cure. He fastened his stroke as he welcomed in his sight your clit, swiping his tongue along the bud.

You moaned out his name like a cry for help, and he answered at first ring when his fingers still laboured, faster and faster, along with his heavenly tongue licking your clit like ice cream on a summer's day.

“Chan, please—!” You choked out, one hand carding through the man’s hair, driving his face deeper into your cunt. “Please, I need to cum!”

Completely ignoring you, he carried on his ravishing, making you shake your legs to a point your body was beyond your control — you were at his mercy when his head was between your legs, when he prodded at your core as if it was no one else’s but his.

When Chan brushed against your g-spot, it took every muscle in your body not to cum on his face then and there. He was being cruel; this was punishment for going to that party, justice for choosing Jisung’s company over his.

You did not know punishment felt so pain-stakingly amazing.

Calling out his name for the last time, you knew that if the man carried on, you would go against his wishes and free yourself of the burden pushing down on your gut. Gripping onto his hair hard enough to rip right off, Chan spared a single glance at you from above, licking his lips off your mess.

“Cum for me, baby.”

That was the first time you came that night. Shaking as you freed your juices unto him, he gladly accepting the release. It was like you possessed a vessel of your release, the way you kept it inside for so long. He could never refuse though, when he knew he was responsible for driving you down that road of vulnerability.

However, even with all of that, you still wanted more.

And as Chan ascended on his feet, yanking his fingers out of you, he saw it in your eyes. The uncontainable passion. The unadulterated desire.

All for him. All. For him.

Your best friend’s smile was positively wicked.

“I will completely ruin you, ____.”

He was upon you like a beast, no mercy upon your lips as he bruised them with his teeth, your pleas drowned out by his mouth as he lifted you in his arms. His kisses never ceased as he led you in his bedroom, nearly ripping the hinges at the sheer intensity of slamming his door shut.

Throwing you on the bed, your breath whooshed out of you at the free fall, heart running miles as you witnessed Chan take his shirt off, his entire chest glistening with sweat, no doubt from the work he put in mere minutes ago.

Upon you in seconds, his mouth robbed you of any more oxygen, prying it open as he attempted to unzip your dress from the back. Then, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your throat, he tried to loosen the zipping, but the damned thing got stuck in it’s trail, unable to satisfy.

Letting out an angry growl, he damned the dress when, using his hands at the front, he ripped the fabric in half, completely down to the hem.

“My dress!” You gasped out, watching him discard the torn fabric as if it were a minor inconvenience in his path.

You were cut off by his mouth, scorching you down to the bone. “I’ll buy you ten more, baby,” he muttered, skimming his hands down your bare sides.

You had the audacity to roll your eyes at his words. “Why do you keep forgetting you’re a college student?”

It seemed Chan did not take kindly to your comment. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he snapped, resulting in you leaking right onto his sheets.

That kept you wilfully obedient, and rightfully so, when he unclipped your bra, tossing it to the side, and settled upon your breasts. Grinding his clothed cock upon your bare slit, he licked your right nipple, making you whimper out at him. His reply was swirling his finger on your left nipple, toying with your body as if it was his plaything. You would have had a right mind to shout at him if he didn’t bring such euphoria along with it.

“Chan,” you whispered, gripping onto the sheets as he continued sucking your breasts. “Chan, I...I need you to fuck me already.”

He paused his assault on your bud, raising a groomed brow. “What do you say to that?” He asked, too calmly in a crazy situation like this.

Of course, he wanted to make you beg. Considering you did not care the least for your self respect, or lack thereof, you completely obliged him, rutting your bare cunt upon his trousers.

“Please, Chan. Please.”

Hearing the little pleases had him kissing you insane as he urged you to take his pants off. You willingly obeyed, tossing the clothing along with his Calvins, and when his cock sprung me you felt the inside of your mouth water at the sight.

The man hovered just above you as he positioned his dick right at the entrance, poking between the folds. “Say the magic word, now, baby,” he commanded quietly, and just for the last time, you had to be the most annoying person in the world.

“Donghyuck!”

The second that damned name slipped out of your mouth, you completely regretted it as instead of making sweet, slow love to you, Bang Chan thrusted his cock so hard into you your whole body flinched with the impact. You couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped, tears settling in your eyes, but alas, your best friend had little sympathy for you.

“Bitch,” he seethed, pulling out, widening your eyes only to have him slam his cock back into you, sending you into another universe entirely.

You envied his strength — you could barely hold onto his arms while his grip on you could probably compete with the Earth’s gravity, stable and safe and inescapable. He imprisoned you in his hold as he pulled out slowly, and then drove back inside, but you wanted to be in this cage, to never leave his midnight eyes that offered something other than rage and lust and humour. You dared not wonder what it might be, but when you closed your eyes, your mind began to ponder, float amongst the stars of ideas and questions which defined your relationship.

As Chan began to fasten his pace, thrusts more erratic, you held onto his dark curls, mouth never refraining every moan and whine which he fucked out of you. There he was, the man who deemed you worthy of being pleasured, despite risking your decade old friendship to see you have the same advantages as any old person who was sexually frustrated.

But this man did not just give you any old advantages — he offered the whole world in his hands to you, knelt before you, fulfilled your every waking desire, held onto you before you could ever slip away into the chaos of your mind. Even now, with you getting lost into the galaxies of his eyes, it was solely his hands which were the anchor to reality, a reality he made better by his offer.

Bang Chan, your very best friend.

When he caught the tenderness radiating on your face, he could not help stealing a little for himself, moulding his lips upon yours as he pistoned you in the bed. It was perhaps this small warmth, along with his perfect rhythm of his cock that had you crying out, barely able to contain your second release.

You broke away from the kiss, and uttered his name like a prayer. “Chan,” you whimpered, not needing to say anything for him to realise that you were so very near.

He pressed his forehead against yours, unable to keep away from you. “Fine then,” he grumbled. “I’ll go easy on you.

“Cum for me, ____.”

The words weren’t fully out when you stained Chan’s bed with your release, pushing through the tiny spaces in your walls. He, too, let out an aggravated cry as he spilled into you, most mingling along with your cum upon the sheets.

A heavy silence fell upon the both of you, both of your breathing harmonising with each other in the cold midnight. Chan toppled on the side of the bed next to you, closing his eyes as he breathed from his mouth, chest rising unevenly.

For minutes none of you said anything to each other, simply basking in each other’s peace. You felt the eyes of your best friend, and locked them with yours.

You decided to break the silence first.

“I’m sorry for saying his name.”

Brilliant. Why would you mention that stupid idol once again?

Chan, surprisingly, burst into laughter. You were caught completely off guard, but seeing his smile lighten up his face had you reflecting his happiness.

“You are,” he rasped out, holding onto his stomach, “The most annoying bitch I’ve ever met.”

“Hey!” You exclaimed, smacking him on his arm, which he responded with threats of pushing you off the bed. “You wouldn’t dare!”

His hands were upon you in seconds, steering you at the edge of the mattress. He cackled at your shocked yelping, and you glared at him as he pushed you away from the edge, and into his arms. “Asshole,” you murmured, burying your face in his chest, which he gladly welcomed as he stroked your hair softly with his fingers.

You both found solace in each other’s embrace for a little while before Chan let go of you. “Hey, I completely forgot, but...I got you something while you were out.”

Your eyes perked up at the idea of a gift, which the man tutted when he noticed. “Greedy whore,” he crowed, getting out of the bed as he strolled to his desk, grabbing a brown paper bag. His marble-cut ass was out for you to see, and you took full advantage, watching it with no small amount of admiration.

“Enjoyed the view?” He asked innocently as he slithered right back into bed again, offering you the paper bag. Sticking your tongue out at him, you took the offer, opening it up to see what was so special inside.

Catching sight of the gift had you bursting into a smile.

“Chan!”

You whipped the goods out of the bag, hand on your mouth.

The man bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling too wide. “You like it?”

“You like it?” You parroted, already digging in. “Where did you even find these?”

“Oh, I visited my mom earlier in the day, and she got the cookies from the old shop,” he explained, taking one of the sweets for himself. “I instantly thought of you as she gave them to me, so I saved them for you.”

You widened your eyes in affection. These sweets may have been normal, bakery cookies, but they held a significance for the both of you: these cookies were what started the whole trend of you and Chan rating certain objects or situations for each other, and whenever you were on an academic break, you made sure to drag your friend back to our hometown, where you could always grab a dozen of your favourite snack.

“Thank you for these, bud,” you said, eating away the first cookie. “I think they’ve become better than an eight now.”

Chan hummed in agreement, finishing off his one too. Licking the crumbs off his fingers, he then turned to you, a question riddled all over his face. “Hey, ____?”

“Yeah?”

When he didn’t say anything, you focused your attention on him, propping your head on your elbow. You saw with slight surprise that his cheeks were reddening by the second.

“Chan?”

“It’s just…” he raised his hand, holding your own. “I’ve been thinking about…all of this.”

You raised your brows, refusing to reveal the dread rising in your gut. “Us?”

“Yeah, us,” he confirmed, stroking his thumb across your fingers. “Now, remember that you’ll always be my best friend, okay, like I don’t want you thinking that this would be the end of us or something—”

“Get to the point, buddy,” you hurried along, earning a glare from him.

Then, he licked his lips in anxiety, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Hand never leaving yours, he pinned you with a stare, making you even more nervous.

He parted his mouth.

“____, would you like to go on a date with me?”

You blinked.

Your delayed reaction had Chan groaning. “Fuck, nevermind, just forget I said anything!” He swiped his hand away from yours, holding his head in shame. “I should have kept my big mouth shut, your bad habits are really growing on me—”

“Yes.”

Your best friend paused.

Turned, ever so slowly, towards you.

“What?”

You could not contain your smile as you took his hand once more. “I’ll go on a date with you, you big oaf.”

For a second you truly believed you had killed off Chan with that declaration. Then, his face exploded into pure joy, and he tackled you in a massive hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Oh my fucking God!” he cursed, “Don’t do that to me again!”

You laughed heartily as you put him at arms’ length. “You were the one doing mental gymnastics!”

Refusing still to let go of you, he played with your hair as he clamped on his lips. “One more thing.”

“Shoot.”

“How good was I?” He looked at you, a vulnerable expression etched onto his beautiful features. “You know...with all of this.”

You stared at him, drinking in his face, his every detail, as if you had all the time in the world. Firstly, you had a right mind to pull his leg one more time, but you feared that if you made fun of him again, he might die of a heart attack.

And you still had many more years of tormenting your best friend.

So you brought him towards you, pressing your lips onto his. He seemed very much obliged to go deeper, but you pulled away just as quickly, offering him a ghost of a smile.

“I think you were a 10/10,” you whispered. “From start till finish.”

Hearing the score, and sensing your sincerity along with it, had him in near tears. He enveloped your mouth with his, backing you against the divan as he expressed his affection within the rhythm of his lips.

When he pulled away, still mere inches from you, he said the words he’d been meaning to say since the day he first laid eyes on you — since the day you two contacted this system, since the day he knew your rating as if he knew his own name.

“Well, baby, you’ve always been a 10/10 for me.”

#stray kids smut #bang chan smut #stray kids oneshot #bang chan imagines #bang chan oneshot #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids dark hours #bang chan dark hours #bang chan hard hours #stray kids hard hours

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imagineyourworld · 3 years ago

Text

Back to School (Part One)

Steven Grant x Fem!Professor!Reader, (eventual Marc Spector x Fem!Professor!Reader)

Summary: After returning from Egypt, Steven decides to give university a chance, though he didn’t expect to meet form a connection with his professor, a woman he knows he could never have

Warnings: Reader wears glasses,

—----

Steven felt old. He had always considered himself to be an old soul, as they say, often out of place in the loud and hectic city with its blinking lights, loud music and the smell of smoke from all kinds of cigarettes and vapes and whatever youngsters were smoking these days all around him. But this was different, here he really was old. By far the oldest in the room, if not the entire building. Even some of the professors he had met so far were younger than him, other than his Intro to Ancient Greek professor at least, he might as well have been alive when the pyramids were being built. Steven looked around at all the young faces. Some were hidden behind shiny new laptops, others stared down at their phones or were talking to their friends, and of course some seemed to be asleep, mistaking Lessons Learned from Mythology for naptime. He glanced at his watch. Quarter past ten. The professor was late. “They’re not coming. Let’s get out of here and do something useful with our time,” Marc, his reflection barely visible on the cracked glass of the watch, said. Steven shook his head ever so slightly. He didn’t dare reply verbally, too self conscious of what his new classmates might think. It was bad enough starting university this late in life, he didn’t need to be the weirdo in addition to being the old guy. “Sorry I’m late. I didn’t expect parking to be this difficult this early in the morning.” The voice made Steven avert his gaze from his watch. The professor had arrived. And not just any professor, a rather pretty one around his age with glasses sliding down her nose and her hair in a messy ponytail. “She’s cute,” Marc remarked. “Maybe this class won’t be that boring after all.”

While setting up your laptop and PowerPoint presentation you rambled through your usual greetings and introductions, which you knew by heart by now, since it was the same procedure as every year. Once everything was set up you took a moment to look around the room. The class seemed to be the biggest you’ve taught so far, almost a hundred students either looked at you or their laptops. Some, you knew, were only taking this class because they had to or because everything else was filled up, others seemed to be actually interested in the topic, though it was the minority. One student in particular caught your eye. He was older than everyone else, though it wasn’t the first time that you had actual adults in one of your classes, with messy dark hair and a jacket that was at least a size too big covering up a colourful shirt. That guy, you quickly decided, would either be one of your best students or the worst. “Now I know most of you aren’t fans of these big lectures where you just listen to me going on and on about a certain topic, but how about you all just be quiet and try to listen or at least turn the volume on your phones down and I’ll try to let you go a few minutes earlier.” This caught the attention of everyone, even that tall blond guy in the last row who you could have sworn was just about to fall asleep. “Okay then: Mythology. Of course there are many, many mythologies from all around the world. From Europe to Asia, America to Australia and Africa and all those islands in between, every group of people, whether they were organised into what we today would call a “society”, though I’m not a huge fan of the word in this context, or not had their own belief systems, and with that their own mythologies. Of course we cannot focus on every single mythology from around the world, so for this class I have chosen four rather well known examples: We’ll start with Greek and Roman mythologies, then move on to Norse mythology and finally finish with the oldest mythology we’ll talk about: Egyptian mythology. But of course you’re free to write a term paper on any other mythology there is.” You clicked through your slides while talking, lost in ancient worlds of gods and monsters, realms of endless possibilities and limitless suffering. “First off we’ll try to differentiate between mythology and religion. I have two examples for you…”

“That’s it for today. I hope to see all of you again next week,” you said, thereby ending your lecture for the day. As soon as the last word left your mouth dozens of laptops and notebooks were slammed shut, bags were zipped up and jackets thrown on. It only took around a minute until the room was half-empty. You unplugged your laptop, your thoughts already occupied with where you should get lunch and the research paper you wanted to work on in the afternoon, when a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Sorry to bother you, but I was just wondering if there are any books you recommend reading for this course.” You looked up from your desk to find the man with the dark hair and too big jacket standing in front of you. You shook your head. “As I said, I’ll upload everything you need to read to the university’s website within the next couple of days.” The man nodded his head, making his curls move along with him. “I know, I know. It’s just that… I’m really interested in the material and maybe there’s some further reading. I’d have a look in the library myself, but this is my first week and I’m not even sure where the library is.” Maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to spark with enthusiasm, or the shy smile on his lips, but you instantly decided that this wasn’t just a way to sweet talk you into giving him special treatment the way other students sometimes did, it was genuine interest. “Well, the thing is that most literature is rather advanced. I chose some essays for you guys to read that are more or less introductory, but in order to understand the lessons these ancient mythologies not only taught lessons back in the day but continue to do so you’d need a lot of background information.” The man nodded again and averted his eyes. You watched as he scanned your belongings on the table; your laptop, water bottle, phone, and the book you’re currently reading. Suddenly he jerked forward and before you knew it he had said book in his hand and began to flip through it. “I used to have this book as well, it’s amazing! One of my favourites, actually. I read it at least a dozen times, usually at night when I wanted to keep myself from falling asleep, but one time I brought it to work with me and my boss ended up spilling her coffee all over it. It was ruined and I had to throw it out, couldn’t find it anywhere afterwards, must have gone out of print. She swore it was an accident, by the way, but I don’t think so, she was never a fan of my reading.” As he talked he continued to look through the book, but once he finished he looked up again and right into your eyes. Heat rose to your cheeks as his dark brown eyes met yours, but to your surprise it wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, even though you were usually not that good with eye contact. But there was something about him, something that made you feel safe rather than threatened, something that told you he’d never judge you. Quickly you shook your head. This was a student asking a question about reading material, not a meet-cute. “Right now I still need this book for another lecture, but if you want you can come to my office on Friday and I’ll lend it to you.” The man’s eyes widened in shock, and you hoped that yours didn’t as well. What were you thinking, giving your books away to a stranger? You were always so careful with all your possessions, but especially your books, they were holy and not to be touched by anyone other than you and the people you trusted the most. But the warm smile the man gave you and the sincerity in his eyes made it impossible to regret your offer. “That’d be great, amazing! Thank you so much. I’ll see you on Friday,” the man said, his smile widening even more as he pushed his bag higher up his shoulder and made his way to the door. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him turning around to look at you once more, and consequently walking right into the closed door. You were quick to avert your eyes in order not to embarrass him, but you couldn’t help a small smile lighting up your face and wishing for Friday to come sooner.

-------

You were just packing up on Friday afternoon when the door to your office burst open. The man from Monday came barging into the room, hair even messier than before, a rucksack in his hand and his jacket slung over his arm. “You’re still here,” he exclaimed as a huge grin lit up his face. You zipped up your bag before really looking at him. He was a bit sweaty, but his eyes were bright. “I lost track of time and thought you may have left already.” You shook your head and asked him to sit down at the same time. Carefully the man sat in the chair on the other side of your desk. He pulled the arms of his jumper down over his hands and began to play with the seams. “To be honest, I’m usually the last person here.” Lie. “I think even the cleaning personnel leaves before I do.” Lie, again. The truth was that you had been waiting for him for hours. You didn’t know why, but you really wanted him to show up, to the point where you pushed going home back again and again in favour of waiting alone in your damp and dark office. You knew you shouldn’t complain, at a young age you had managed to score a permanent teaching and research position at one of the city’s most prestigious universities, but sadly said uni didn’t really value Egyptology and Ancient Studies all that much, which lead to your office being in the basement of one of the oldest buildings on campus. “I’m so sorry I’m late. My… friend… Marc, he needed my help with something and I just couldn’t refuse. But-,” he began to rummage through the bag he had put down beside the chair. “I did bring you this.” You pulled the book he paced on your desk closer to you. The cover was somewhat familiar but it wasn’t one you had read before. “I figured since you’re kind enough to lend me a book, it would one be fair for me to repay the favour.” He gave you a bright smile, though there was some uncertainty mixed into it. “I wasn’t sure whether you’ve already read it, or if you even like it, but I… it felt wrong not to give you something in return.” You opened the book, too excited by it to even pay much attention to his words, and found something on the very first page that took you by surprise. “It’s signed.” Big blue letters graced the first page, right under the title. “To Steven, who could rival Thot in knowledge.” Steven. Finally you could put a name to his face. It had bothered you all week that you hadn’t asked him for his name on Monday and now you knew at least his first name, meaning you could look up his last name on the class register. “The author gave a presentation at the museum a couple of years ago and I asked him to sign the book.” You raised an eyebrow. “The museum?” Steven’s cheeks reddened ever so slightly. “I used to work at the British Museum.” You stopped flipping through the book and looked at him. It fits, you decided after a moment. You could really imagine Steven sitting at a desk in the museum archive, buried underneath piles of books, only emerging once the museum closed to walk through the halls filled with history in peace, maybe with the moon shining through the glass roof in the entrance hall, bathing him in silver light. Though something about this mental picture wasn’t quite right. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Steven, but why are you taking my class? It’s an introduction to mythology, and based on the books you’re reading and the fact that you used to work in one of the most famous museums on the planet, you don’t seem to need it.” His blush deepened and he glanced around the room until his eyes finally settled on a mirror you had put in the corner to make the room seem bigger and brighter. “I didn’t exactly work at the museum,” he mumbled. “I mean I did work there, but at the gift shop.” He seemed almost embarrassed of his former profession, the way he refused to look at you and continued to pick at the seam of his jumper told you as much. For some reason you couldn’t quite explain you felt the desire to reach out to him, to place your hands on his and tell him that it was alright. “Working at a gift shop might not be the most intellectually challenging job, but I’d argue that it is still an important one. After all, some of the most treasured items in my flat are from gift shops all over the world.” A hesitant smile found its way to Steven’s face. “Thank you for the book,” you added. “I look forward to brewing myself a nice cup of tea and reading it tonight.” You slipped the book into your bag and went to pull the one you had promised Steven out when a realisation struck you. “Bloody hell, Steven, I’m so sorry. I forgot the book at home.” You closed your eyes with a defeated sigh. What’s been going on lately? You seemed to be forgetting everything. Just yesterday you had left your phone at home, the day before it was a paper you had finished grading late at night. “It’s fine. I can just come back on Monday and you’ll give it to me then, no worries.” The fact that Steven had given you a book, one that probably had to mean a lot to him, simply based on the fact that it was signed by the author, and you hadn’t even managed to take the book you had laid on your bedside table specifically so you’d remember, stung. “You know what? I don’t live far from here, I’ll just go and grab the book real quick. If you want you can wait here, I’ll be back in like 20 minutes.” Without waiting for an answer you put your phone in your backpocket and walked over to the door where your coat was hanging. “I can’t let you do that, it’s really not that important,” Steven began to protest. You were having none of his protests. “Please, it’s the least I can do after you lend me your book. And it’s really not that far.” Now Steven rose as well, he walked over to you, and shook his head again. “At least let me walk you. It’s dark outside and I’d never forgive myself if something were to happen to you.” You considered his offer for a moment. On the one hand not having to walk across campus alone at night would be great, especially if it was Steven who was with you. On the other hand it would be Steven walking with you, a man you’ve only talked to twice, someone who you didn’t really know, who might be more dangerous than anyone lurking in the shadows. And yet there was this gut feeling telling you to trust him. “You really don’t have to,” you said, though your protest was out of politeness rather than wanting him to withdraw his offer. “I know, but I want to.”

“Usually I’d be all for you going home with a beautiful woman, but have you really thought this through?” Steven tried his best to ignore Marc’s continuous questions in his head and instead focused on you. The way you were walking close enough for him to feel your body heat, a stark contrast in the cold night, your sweet scent, probably a shampoo or perfume, or the way your hand sometimes brushed against his ever so slightly. There, it happened again! This time all Steven could do as to not reach out and take your hand in his was to push his own hands into the pockets of his jacket. “So,” he finally spoke to break the awkward silence. “How long have you been a professor?” You shrugged, something Steven could only barely see in the darkness. “Technically for a couple of years, but I only started teaching last semester, before that I mostly did research.” You said it as if that were the most boring thing imaginable, but Steven couldn’t help but be fascinated. How could he not? You were not only beautiful and kind, you were interested in ancient Egypt. It had only taken two conversations for Steven to decide that you were perfect. “What sort of research?” Oh boy, even Steven, who loved learning and was known to ramble on about the topics he’s interested in from time to time, had not expected you to launch into a monologue about different mythologies, facts and figures, gods and goddesses that lasted until you finally stopped in front of the door to your building. “Oh my, I didn’t realise I kept droning on about this. I’m so sorry, but once I get talking it’s hard to stop. You should have stopped me, Steven.” There it was again, the way you said his name, those two simple syllabi, made his heart flutter. Though he couldn’t see him, he could practically feel Marc’s smirk. “Maybe I didn’t want to stop you, I like listening to you talk.” It must have been a trick of the light, there was no way you were blushing, no way at all. “I’d like to believe you, but I’m your professor and I know that you’d never tell me if I was boring you to death,” you joked while you unlocked the front door and held it open for Steven. Your professor. Your professor. Your professor. The words rang in his head again and again. For a moment he had forgotten that that’s what you were, his professor at university, not a friend, not someone who was actually interested in him personally, you were just doing your job, or maybe a little more by being extra friendly and helpful. “Yeah,” he simply mumbled as he followed you up two flights of stairs until you reached another door, this one painted in a dark blue colour with a dark grey entrance mat in front of it. As soon as you pushed the door open a new scent hit Steven. It was something sweet and soft, vanilla, cinnamon. “I made some sahlab before I left today, would you like me to heat some up for you while I get the book?” It took Steven a moment to register your words, he was too preoccupied with looking through the flat. Stepping through the door he stood in a tiny hallway, barely big enough for one person, which was probably why you had already moved on to the next room. The hallway was painted in a neutral white, but jackets, scarves, and various other items on a coat hanger, as well as an array of shoes underneath it, gave the room a splash of colour. Steven, you can’t just stay in the hallway forever, Marc’s familiar voice rang through his head. He caught sight of his alter in a tiny mirror next to the door where you had disappeared. And suddenly reappeared as you stuck your head into the hallway. “Steven? Sahlab?” Steven nodded before he could even consider your question. He took a few steps until he found himself standing in your kitchen, which was similar to the hallway in the sense that it was also tiny and very neutral, but this time rather than clothes giving the room a personal note it was pictures. At least a dozen different photographs and postcards were pinned to your fridge while a huge poster of different Greek gods and goddesses hung above the small table. “Here you go,” you said as you handed him a mug that smelled even more like vanilla and cinnamon than the rest of the flat. “Sorry, but what exactly is this?” Steven asked. He was well aware that he probably should have asked earlier, but there were just so many other more interesting things to look at. “It’s a middle eastern drink, kinda like hot chocolate but instead of chocolate it’s vanilla and a dash of cinnamon. I think it tastes like a hug,” you admitted with a sheepish grin. Steven leaned closer to get another whiff of the drink, but he didn’t take a sip just yet. “I’m a vegan,” he blurted out instead. He avoided looking at you, didn’t want to see your probably disappointed expression and instead looked out the window, which didn’t exactly provide a great view, since it faced a wall. “It’s soy milk,” you said, though your voice was almost drowned out by the sound of you rummaging through the cupboards. “Aha, found it!.” A short pause. “I just checked the vanilla extract, it’s vegan as well, you’re safe to drink it. If you want that is, you don’t have to.” While you were talking Steven had turned around to face you again, only to find you staring into your own mug rather than at him. He didn’t know what to say and decided that the best option would be to simply take a sip. Before he could say anything about the drink though, which really did taste like a hug, you disappeared again. Deciding it would be rude to follow you, Steven stayed where he was, and instead focused on the pictures on your fridge. “She’s been all over the world,” he muttered, whether more to himself or to Marc he wasn’ sure. “It was mostly for work. More often than not I’d go straight to a museum from the airport, usually some dusty old archive in the basement, and see little else other than the museum, my hotel room, and the airport.” Steven hadn’t heard you coming back into the kitchen, he was too preoccupied with snaps of different exhibits and especially one of you in front of the Louvre’s glass pyramid, though his focus wasn’t on the pyramid itself, but on you, with sunglasses on your face and a huge grin on your lips. “Here’s the book I promised you,” you said, breaking the silence and bringing a blush to Steven’s face. Once again he forced himself to remember that, no matter how kind and hospitable you were being, you were still his professor, not a friend he could exchange memories with. “I have some others you might be interested in, if you’d like to have a look,” you offered with a kind smile. Steven shook his head. He couldn’t. He was already imposing by simply being here, by invading your personal space, your home, and drinking in your kitchen. “I think this one should be enough,” he answered, though part of him longed to browse through your personal library, to find out more about you through the books you read and collect. He could hear Marc sighing in his head, but Steven stayed strong. It wouldn’t be right to take any more, of your books or your time, he had to draw a line between the two of you now, before it might be too late. “If you change your mind, just let me know. I’d be happy to let you look through my books or bring another one to my office for you.” Steven could have sworn there was a nervous aura around you, something that almost seemed like a desire to see him again. “You’re the first student who is interested in anything other than what they actually need to read. Actually, scratch that, you’re not just the first student but the first person since my own uni days.” Steven didn’t know what to say, so he settled for a simple nod. He knew the feeling, knew what it was like to be interested in something no one else seemed to care about, to finally find someone who you could share your passion with, someone who understood you in a way no other could. But why, why, why, why did that one person have to be his professor? His smart and clever, kind and beautiful professor? “I should go now. Thanks for the book, and the sahlab.” Another kind smile graced your lips as you exchanged words of goodbye. Once out the door Steven took a deep breath. “This might not be what you want to hear right now, but I think she really likes you,” Marc told Steven, who couldn’t help a cruel laugh from escaping his lips. “Even if she does, she’s the one woman I cannot have. I need this degree and can’t afford to do anything to screw this up.” He didn’t add that he felt like he had screwed up so much in his life already, that he saw this as his last chance to make something of himself, his last chance at a normal, happy life. He didn’t have to say any of that, he had a feeling Marc knew, and understood. “I’ll just read this book, give it back to her, and that’s it. Then I’ll go back to being just another student.”

-------

I have part of the story planned out already, so I’m hoping that the next part should be up within a week or so.

As always, thank you for reading and feedback is greatly appreciated (I’m also open to ideas in what direction you’d like the story to go) <3

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x you #steven grant imagine #Steven Grant #moon knight x y/n #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #Moon Knight #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n

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