#They met in Italy actually | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

snoopyracing · 2 months ago

Text

champagne coast // ln4

pairing: lando norris X reader

word count: 19k

warnings: cursing and alcohol use

includes: friends to lovers, summer!lando, clueless reader and lando, pining, fluff, and a little angst

summary: when lando and you spend summer break together you don't expect italy to eventually hold such a special place in your heart... or lando and you go on vacation and everyone keeps thinking you're a couple.

playlist for the fic: spotify | apple music

masterlist

─── ༺❀༻ ───

It was the Monday before the Belgium Grand Prix when Lando asked – what are you doing for summer break?

The sun had started to set over the coast, its golden reflection rippling across the water and onto the balcony of Lando’s Monaco apartment. The same balcony that the two of you currently resided on, choosing to share the wicker couch instead of one of you sitting in one of the empty chairs.

You were sat sideways on the couch with your legs crossed, your view consisting more of Lando than the picturesque sunset over the sea. A cheap bottle of pink moscato, which was your favorite, was sitting on the table where Lando had his feet propped up.

He’d always complain about how sweet it was, but then drink more of it than you. In all reality, he’d actually grown to love it because of you, but he’d never tell you that. He’d only been able to find it at one place in Monaco, so when he knew you were coming to visit he always made sure to have a couple bottles on hand and maybe a bottle for himself when he was missing you.

Your eyes met his as you processed his question. This right now was your summer vacation. He surely knew that, right? “Summer break? I don’t have a summer break like you do, Lando.” It was true, you had barely managed to get this week off from work to be able to go to Belgium, let alone have a month off. “I figured me being here for a couple days then going to Belgium would be my vacation.”

A disapproving sigh escapes past his lips as he speaks. “That is not a vacation.”

“Well it sure as hell beats being stuck at an office in London.”

He downed the remainder of the wine in his glass and fully turned his body towards you. His arm resting across the back of the couch, his fingers nearly touching you. “I think you should come with me on vacation.”

You stifle a groan by taking a drink of your wine. “Lando, you know I don’t do Ibiza. It's not my kind of place, especially this time of year.” It was a beautiful place no doubt, but the big party scene was not your favorite. And the couple times you had gone with Lando and your shared friend group it was so chaotic and you had a hangover that lasted for what seemed like a week. So no– Ibiza and you weren’t the best of friends.

“Who said anything about Ibiza?” He’s got a smirk toying at the corners of his lips, you can tell by the way his upper lip twitches slightly. Not that you stare at his lips that much to be able to notice that kind of thing.

“Lando Norris not going to Ibiza during his summer break? Should I alert the press? Did you hit your head? Are you running a fever?” You lean forward to check his temperature, but he playfully swatted away your hand with a giggle before you could get close enough. “Have you broken the news to Fewt-”

That smirk had fully developed across his face as he cut you off. “Who said anything about Max?”

Now you really thought that he’d bumped his head or was slightly tipsy already. You cocked an eyebrow at him in question. “Where are you going then? Especially without Max?”

Lando leaned back, the wicker creaking beneath him, but his eyes were still trained on you. Golden hour had made them even more blue, resembling the crystal blue water that was just a short walk away. “I’m going wherever you want to go.”

“Lando.”

“Y/N.” He’s the one to cock an eyebrow now.

“I can’t go with you.”

His smirk had turned into a pout and he knew how to work those big blue eyes, especially on you. “Why not? Wherever you want to go– we will go. Not many people get that opportunity Y/N.”

You go to take another drink and realize your glass is empty, but before you can reach for the bottle Lando’s already got it in his hands, reaching over slightly to pour you another glass. “Who all is going then if Max isn’t going?”

He sets the bottle back down on the table, hesitating for a moment before speaking. You two are close, probably the closest friend he has compared to Max, but he worries that you won’t be up for what he’s about to suggest. “It would just be me and you.”

You feel your cheeks get hot at his proposal, but you shake it off, blaming it on the wine.

As much as the idea of Lando and you going on a trip together sounds amazing, you just don’t think you can make it work. You live a normal life and being able to just go on lavish trips at the drop of a hat is not something you get to experience, no matter how much Lando wants you to or you would like to.

“I would love to Lan, but I don't think I could get the time off again.” Your finger nervously circles the rim of the wine glass as you contemplate even bringing your other reason up. Mainly because you know what his answer will be, but against your better judgment you take another swig of the wine as liquid courage before telling him the embarrassing truth. “I also just can’t afford it.”

And without skipping a beat he blurts out. “I’ll pay.” You’re immediately shaking your head no, but before you can verbally deny his offer he’s speaking again “Seriously Y/N. I will pay. It’s not a big deal.”

Except him paying your way for this trip is a big deal. Just how it’s a big deal everytime you come and visit him in Monaco and he insists that you don’t spend a dime while you’re here. It’s bad enough that you stay at his place, let alone have him pay for your dinner every night. Or how he is always offering to fly you out to races on your free weekends. Or insisting that the random gifts he gives you don’t cost that much, like you can’t read the designer labels on the boxes or labels.

It makes you feel bad that you can’t offer the same back to him. The constant worry that he might think you are using him for his money makes your stomach hurt because it’s the last thing you’d ever do. He’s one of the most giving and kindest people you know and to be able to call him your best friend is something you treasure. And you truly hope he knows how much you appreciate everything he does for you, but how could he not when you tell him every chance you get.

“Lando, really I cannot let you pay for me to go on vacation. It’s one thing to let me crash at your apartment and for you to get me passes to races, which I appreciate more than you will ever know. But I draw the line at a whole vacation. I don’t want to seem like a freeloader who is using you, that’s honestly the la-”

“Oh my god will you just let me spoil you!” Lando had enough of your endless rambling. Your need to always try and decline his gifts or offerings until he convinces you that you are worthy of them drives him crazy. To Lando there isn’t a person on Earth who deserves everything and more than you. And the fact that he can afford to give you anything you’d ever want tickles him pink. Hell if it was possible, he’d buy you the whole damn universe, even if you hadn’t asked for it.

“I hate that you think– that I would think you’re using me. Never in a million years would I think that. You mean a lot to me Y/N, truly. You’re one the most important people in my life and you deserve everything and more that I give you. If I thought you were using me, I would not be asking you to go on vacation with me, believe me. I love having you around and with us not seeing each other like we used to, I figured a trip with just the two of us would be nice.”

He pauses for a moment as he scoots a little closer to you on the couch, your legs touching as the glow from the sun envelopes around you two. “Now please don’t try and worm your way out of this trip. I’ve missed you so much and if you don’t end up going I think you’re just gonna have to move in with me.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics, but try not to let his heartfelt words get to your head. “How would I even get the time off work again? Tell them ‘Oh my famous F1 driver best friend wants to take me on a trip. Can I please have some more time off?’ I don’t think that would work.”

“Well I think it would work. Especially if you add in that I’m super hot.”

The giggles that come from you lets you know that you’ve drank your fair share of wine for the evening. “Oh I don’t think they would ever tell me no If I added that in.”

“If they do say no then just quit and I’ll get you a job somehow with McLaren or Quadrant or something. I just really want to go on this trip with you.”

You aren’t sure if it's the wine in your system or the fact that you want nothing more right now than to spend a week with Lando in some beautiful country, without a care in the world. But you ignore every responsible and logical part of you and tell him what he wants to hear.

“Alright. So where are we going then?”

His eyes light up and the smile that spreads across his face is comparable to that first win smile. “That’s all up to you baby.”

Both of your hearts skip a beat at the term of endearment that came from him. His because he can’t believe he let it slip and yours because you can’t believe he called you that so easily. But you both ignore it and you focus on the one place you’d had on your mind since he mentioned taking a trip.

“Italy?” You suggest with a hopeful smile on your face.

He fills up his glass with the last of the fruit juice like wine and holds it up towards you, your glasses clinking together in a toast. “Italy it is then.”

─── ༺❀༻ ───

Six days later an email notification pops up on your phone as you’re sitting in McLaren’s hospitality, talking with Lando’s Mom. You glance at who it’s from, not wanting to be rude and get on your phone mid conversation, but when you see your boss’s contact you can’t help but open it. “I’m sorry, it’s from work.” Cisca waved you off, the conversation had only consisted of why they couldn’t stock better snacks in hospitality, and she knew if work was emailing you on a Sunday it had to be important.

You had emailed them Monday night requesting the time off and when they hadn’t responded by Friday you figured they were denying it. Or firing you for requesting more time off while currently being on a vacation. So to be getting this email on a Sunday had you worried, but as your eyes scanned the email you couldn’t hold back the excitement. By some higher power unbestowed to you, they had granted you the time off.

“Never seen someone so excited over an email from work.” Cisca teased.

“Yeah. Honestly thought I was getting fired, but they approved my time off for the Italy trip Lando and I are taking.” You leaned back in the chair, relief finally washing over you.

“Just the two of you?” Cisca had her suspicions about her son’s feelings towards you and your feelings towards him. She’d secretly hoped the two of you would end up together the first time she met you years ago. She honestly thought you were his girlfriend that day and was surprised when he introduced you as his friend. Then she thought maybe he was hiding your relationship because she had never known her son to bring around a female friend like he had you.

You had attended family dinners, a couple holidays, races, and so many other things that just didn’t seem normal to bring a friend to. They had become so accustomed to you being around that when he finally said that he was bringing home his girlfriend for everyone to meet and you didn’t walk through the door— everyone was a little shell shocked. The relationship didn’t last long and she had her theories as to why. To Cisca there was just no way the two of you didn’t have feelings for eachother, she could see it plain as day, and it drove her crazy that the two of you didn’t see it.

“Yeah. At first I thought he was asking me to go to Ibiza again with everyone and you know me, it’s not my thing. But then he said we could go anywhere I wanted and that it was just me and him, so I chose Italy.” You gathered your things, eager to tell Lando the good news before race time. “You raised a good man, Cisca. I couldn’t ask for a better person in my life than him.”

There’s a smile on her face as she watches you talk about Lando, how your smile never falters and how that twinkle in your eye seems to get brighter the more you talk about him. “Thank you honey. You had better go tell him, hadn’t you?”

“I’ll be back!”

Thankfully Lando’s not that hard to find, he’s in the garage looking over some data on the monitors with Will when you spot him. You stand back out of the way, waiting until he’s done, but as soon as he turns to walk away you’re racing towards him. Your arms flinging around him from behind and you can feel him tense under you, but when he hears your laughter his muscles relax.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Lando asks as he turns around to face you, his hands lingering on your hips.

“Hmmm. It may have something to do with work approving my time off.”

That same smile from the other night finds its way onto his face and he’s pulling you into his arms, the two of you swaying back and forth as he nuzzles his head into your neck. “I knew they would approve it, it was meant to be.” His voice tickles your neck as he speaks causing a giggle to escape past your lips.

“Can’t believe we get to spend a week together in Italy.” You state as he releases you from his grip.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, still not sure that he wouldn’t rather be going to Ibiza with his friends.”You’re sure you’re not gonna miss Ibiza?”

His fingers toy with the hem of your shirt as he speaks– his blue eyes boring into yours. “I’d miss you more if I went.” And there isn’t a single ounce of doubt in his words. If he ended up going to Ibiza without you, he’d be at a club wondering what you were doing. Eventually downing one too many shots to try and numb that annoying ache in his chest that forms when you aren’t around. The one that even with you around this week, he had felt occasionally at the idea of you not being able to go to Italy.

The idea of him spending his summer break back in England had crossed his mind a couple times, especially if that meant he got to spend time with you. Luckily though fate was on his side today and he wouldn’t have to deal with that ache for the foreseeable future.

You can feel the slight blush on your cheeks as you process what Lando had said to you and you pray he doesn’t notice it. Just him simply saying he’d miss you if he went to Ibiza should not have you blushing, but here recently it seemed like that was all he could do was make you blush.

A familiar Australian accent hits your ears and around the corner comes Oscar, his hand clamping down on Lando’s shoulder as he comes up behind him. “Y/N. Haven’t seen you in awhile.” His bunny teeth showing as he flashes you a smile.

Your mouth barely opens to speak before Lando’s speaking for you. “I know. She’s been too busy working back in London to come see her favorite person.”

“I’m really such a horrible friend. I’m so sorry Oscar, I really should make more time to see you. In fact, how’s Australia this time of year? I think I might come visit you.” The playful smirk on your face and Oscar’s laugh does nothing to tell Lando that you’re just joking and like a little kid he’s got his arms crossed across his chest with a slight pout on his face.

“Um. I think I’m your favorite person Y/N. Plus you can’t even go to Australia because we are going to Italy.”

Oscar and you can’t help but laugh at Lando’s dramatics, but Oscar wants to tease Lando even further. He knows how his older teammate feels about you, even if Lando won’t give the idea any time of day when Oscar brings it up. Lando had confided in Oscar about his idea to take you on a trip, but Oscar didn’t think he’d actually go through with it. “Italy? Who’s all going? Maybe Lily and I could tag along?”

Lando’s eyes widen at Oscar’s suggestion, mainly because he knows you’d jump at any opportunity to spend time with Lily and this trip was meant to be just for the two of you. “It’s just gonna be me and Y/N…” He trials off, trying to figure out how to nicely tell Oscar that he can’t come.

“There's a month between Singapore and Austin. We should all plan something for then.” You chime in. As much as you would love to spend time with Oscar and Lily, you really want to have this trip just be Lando and you.

Lando’s surprised at you turning down Oscar’s suggestion, but smiles and nods towards Oscar, agreeing with your idea. “Yeah that sounds like a good idea.” Oscar states, a small smirk on his face as he eyes the two of you, fully knowing that you’ll come back from Italy together. And if you don’t Oscar thinks he may have to knock some sense into his teammate.

The driver’s parade was set to start soon, so you tell Oscar you’ll see him around and give Lando a hug, knowing you won’t see him again until after the race. “I’ll see you later, yeah? Be safe and good luck.”

Lando’s grip on you lingers, not wanting to fully let you go just yet, but when they get the final warning that it’s time to go he reluctantly frees you. A small frown on his face as he heads towards the track and you go back to hospitality.

The two McLaren drivers stood side by side on the flatbed of the moving truck, smiles on their faces as they waved at the fans in the grandstands. “Never seen two friends like you and Y/N go on a trip together– alone.” Oscar’s voice is low, there’s an interview going on to his left, but he’s loud enough that Lando can hear him.

Lando keeps looking straight forward as he speaks. “Don’t know what you mean by that.”

“I think you fully know what I mean.”

Max, who was on the other side of Lando, had been eavesdropping the whole time, and couldn’t help but put his two cents in. “If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about. I just want to say, do us all a favor and finally tell her how you feel.”

Lando shook his head at the two drivers. You two were just very close best friends, there wasn’t anything he needed to admit to you. It was just a trip that two best friends were going on and there was nothing more to it– right?

─── ༺❀༻ ───

A week and a half later your plane touches down in Naples and even though the flight from London is only around three hours you want nothing more than to just get to the hotel and relax.

The Uber ride from the airport to the hotel thankfully doesn’t take long and you have no issue with sitting down in the lobby of the hotel with all the luggage while Lando checks you two in. You do notice that it’s taking quite a long time for Lando to check in and as you glance up from your phone towards the reception desk you see him talking with the worker and showing her something on his phone. Then with a sigh and a shake of his head he turns on his heel back towards you.

“Everything alright?” You ask.

He slips his phone back into his pocket and grabs his suitcase. “I booked us a two bedroom suite and they told me that all they have available is a one bedroom. Even though I showed them the booking on my phone, someone is already in it. So, I’ll just take the couch and you can have the bed.”

This place was fancy, and Lando had undoubtedly paid a pretty penny for the two nights that you were staying here. You would have thought they would have comped the room or something for their mistake. But by the displeased look on his face it didn’t seem they offered him anything but a sorry for the inconvenience.

Even with the hotel screwing up the room, the one you end up with is amazing and as you enter the room your jaw drops slightly at it. You set your bags down and explore the room further, taking in all the beautiful artwork on the walls and the natural light streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows. You enter a door to your left and it’s the bedroom, which is even better than the main room, mainly because of the huge balcony that overlooks the sea.

There’s a gentle breeze in the air as you lean against the railing, taking in the view and the hustle and bustle from the surrounding area.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Lando’s voice makes you jump, you were so lost in your own little world you didn’t even hear him come out onto the balcony. You nod your head in agreement as he slots himself beside you, mimicking your actions of leaning on the railing. “And it’s not even the best part of our trip.”

“You know you didn’t have to get such a nice room, we are only in Naples for two days.” As much as you try not to feel guilty about him paying for all of this, you do.

“And what did I say a couple weeks ago?”

A groan emits from you as you remember his words to you in Monaco. “You said to let you spoil me.”

“Exactly. I just want you to enjoy yourself and stop worrying about how much everything costs. We are here to relax and have fun, which means figuring out what we want to do tonight.”

You ponder your endless options and all you really want to do is sit on this balcony and enjoy the view, but your stomach growling tells you maybe dinner would be a good idea first. “We are in Italy– how about getting some pizza and then just come back here and relax?” Lando agrees and while you’re freshening up he looks up good pizza places within walking distance.

You two are just about ready to leave when there's a knock on the door, followed by room service!

A confused look is shared between you two, but when Lando looks through the peephole there stands a worker with a room service cart. He opens the door and is greeted with a smile from the employee.

“From the hotel as an apology about the room.” The employee hands Lando an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne nestled in it. “Have a nice rest of your stay.”

Lando looks back at you with an amused look on his face as the guy quickly leaves, the wheels of the cart squeaking as he hurries down the hall. “Well, we have something to drink on the balcony later.” Lando states as he sets the bucket down on the coffee table.

“Champagne and pizza? No thanks.” You see there’s a card attached to the bottle and as you open the envelope and read the words written, your cheeks turn scarlet.

“What does it say?” Lando questions, moving to stand behind you so he can read it too. His eyes scan the letter and he soon finds himself in the same state as you. He clears his throat as he steps back, suddenly feeling too close to you at the moment.

to the happy couple,

we are so deeply sorry about the mix up with rooms and we hope you can accept our apologies. we’ve sent a bottle of the finest champagne that you can get in naples and have comped any room service you may order during your stay. as always if you need anything please don’t hesitate to call the front desk and once again we sincerely apologize for our mistake. we hope you enjoy your stay here and the city of naples.

The letter isn’t spoken about, actually what you two were addressed as isn’t spoken about, but you both agree that their actions were nice. The walk to the pizza place is quiet, the both of you occasionally pointing out things that you think are interesting or pretty, but both of your minds are preoccupied with being mistaken for a couple. Anyone else would have laughed it off, but clearly not the two of you.

By the time you’re back at the hotel and sat on the balcony with the pizza and champagne your conversation had returned to normal. You teasing Lando about not even drinking the glass he had poured for himself and him complaining about you insisting that you get a pizza that has peppers on it.

“You know what would make this evening even better?” The pizza is long gone and the two of you are sat admiring the painting in the sky left behind from the sun.

“Some pink moscato?” There’s a grin on his face as he says it. If there’s one thing he knows you love, it’s a glass of pink moscato on a balcony with a view.

You try to hide the smile on your face as you glance over at him, but he’s caught you. “You know me too well Norris.”

“Should’ve told that employee that we wanted a ten dollar bottle of wine instead of that champagne.” Lando jokes.

“Thought you didn’t like it? That it was too sweet?”

He shuffles slightly in his seat, fully knowing that you’d caught on to his facade. “I may have grown to love it.” He admits quietly.

You’d known for a while, but hearing him say it was much more satisfying. “Yeah. Kinda figured it out last year when you started drinking more of it than me.”

Nighttime draws near and once you start yawning, so does Lando, and after the fourth round of yawning Lando states that it’s time for bed. The subject the two of you hadn’t discussed any further than what was said in the lobby earlier. The guilt started to eat at you as you brushed your teeth, he’d invited you and is paying for everything and he doesn’t even get to sleep in a bed? What kind of friend were you?

Lando was making the couch up as you walked out of the bathroom and for this being a luxury hotel that couch looked stiff and seemed to be more for show than actual comfort. He already had a bad back and it looked like sleeping on that couch was going to have him trying to find a chiropractor tomorrow instead of sightseeing. “Lan. You take the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

He doesn’t even look back at you, still occupied with trying to make the couch somewhat comfortable. “No. I’ll be fine. You take the bed.”

“Lando.”

“Y/N.”

“Lando, look at me.” You knew he wasn’t going to budge with the whole couch thing, so you thought of the next best thing. The two of you sharing the bed. It was plenty big and truly it shouldn’t be that big of a deal if you two shared it. You were grown adults and bestfriends, no one should have to sleep on the couch.

His focus tears away from the couch and over to you, who’s already in bed and under the covers. “Look at how big this bed is.” Your body extends over to the other side trying to show him just how big the bed is. “Just sleep in the bed with me, there is plenty of room.”

Your offer takes him by surprise and he stills for a moment, he’d love nothing more than to climb into that bed right now, but a part of his brain is telling him not to. And he’s about ready to tell you no once again until he makes eye contact with you. Those damn eyes of yours could be used in interrogation rooms across the world, one look into them and he’s crumbling like a poorly built sandcastle. The gentle pat on the empty side of the bed is what flattens the sandcastle and he’s mumbling out an okay before sliding under the sheets next to you.

The two of you don’t know what to do for a moment, both still and flat on your backs under the sheets, like if you moved an inch the gremlin under the bed was going to get you. But eventually Lando turns on his side, mumbling out a goodnight as he pulls the comforter closer to him. You take his actions as a sign for you to roll over too and you figured that falling asleep wouldn’t be an issue after all the yawning earlier, but you were wrong. You tried counting sheep, tried laying on your back, tried anything you could think of to fall asleep and nothing worked. It wasn’t like there was a major time difference between here and London, it was literally only an hour, so unfortunately jet lag could not be to blame.

Lando hadn’t moved the whole time and you figured he fell asleep as soon as he turned over, but you were bored and going a little crazy because even though you were tired, you couldn’t fall asleep. “Lando.” You whispered, but got no response. “Lando. Are you awake?” You whisper a little louder this time, but still no response. So with a defeated sigh you roll back over and shut your eyes, praying that this time you can go to sleep. But within a matter of seconds you feel the bed shift and Lando’s voice echoing through the room.

“I’m awake.”

You roll back over— the two of you now facing each other. “Why didn’t you answer me a minute ago?”

“I was trying to go to sleep myself.”

“Oh sorry. I’ll go out to the other room and watch some TV or something.” You barely move an inch before Lando’s got his fingers wrapped around your forearm, gently pulling you back towards him.

“No, don't leave.”

You can feel your heartbeat quickening as you realize just how close the two of you are. The glow from the moon cascades through the balcony doors allowing you to make out the moles on his face and those pretty long eyelashes of his that make his already breathtaking eyes seem even more beautiful. Sometimes you think he has stars in his eyes from the way that they sparkle. And as the two of you lay here right now, you realize the only reason that the moonlight is flooding into the room is because she’s looking for her lost stars that have found a home in Lando’s eyes.

“You got any ideas on how to fall asleep? I’ve tried just about everything in the book.” For some reason you're whispering and you wonder if it’s from how close you are to Lando’s face or how suddenly nervous you are to be this close to Lando.

He’s silent for a moment, the logical and sane part of him screaming at him to not even suggest what he’s been thinking about ever since climbing under these sheets. The mere idea of it being the thing that had prevented him from being fast asleep by now. But he’s got you at literal fingertips length and he thinks there may not be another opportunity like this again. So– he acts with his heart and not his brain.

“Come here.” He’s moved onto his back with his arm outstretched towards you.

“Huh?” You know exactly what he’s insinuating, but you can’t actually believe that he is.

“You wanted an idea on how to fall asleep and this is my idea. I’ll get you to fall asleep in no time.

“You think us cuddling is gonna get me to fall asleep?” You definitely hadn’t wondered what it would be like to be wrapped up in Lando’s arms before. How it would feel to have his fingertips trance mindless patterns across your skin or have your head on his chest. He was your best friend, which meant those thoughts had never crossed your mind– right?

He shrugs, trying to hide the nervousness in his demeanor, the mere thought of you denying him right now was enough to have him on the next flight back to Monaco in the morning. He should have never put himself in this situation, but god as soon as he climbed into this bed all he wanted to do was have you wrapped up in his arms.

It had consumed his brain, and then consumed it even more because why was he having this desire to have such a tender moment with his best friend? Though his brain stops spiraling when he feels the bed shift and you’re suddenly tucking yourself into his side, arm slung over his torso, and your head laying on his chest. The same chest that his heart is about ready to beat out of and he prays you can’t hear how hard it’s working.

But as you both get settled and Lando’s heartbeat finally mellows out he realizes just how right this feels, like the two of you were matching puzzle pieces. Any other girl he had cuddled with before now seemed to feel wrong because as far as he was concerned, nothing felt better than this. It felt natural and easy and he found himself drawing absent minded patterns on your side where your shirt had bunched up.

He’d spend the rest of his life here in this moment with you if he could. And when he hears your slight snores something short circuits in his brain and he’s pressing a kiss to the top of your head mumbling out goodnight before he’s out like a light too. The moonlight blanketing over the two of you, who right now look more like lovers than best friends.

─── ༺❀༻ ───

The next morning you’re already up and ready for the day by the time Lando wakes up and he tries to hide the disappointment of not waking up next to you, already missing the feeling of having you so close. A feeling though nice, he knew it was one that he probably shouldn’t be feeling. He asks you if you slept well while he’s getting ready and you tell him yes, not going into very much detail, for your own sake and his.

The day is full of sightseeing and lots of walking, which is something that Lando likes to complain about. You visit Pompeii and a handful of other places for you and Lando to nerd out about and truly be tourists. You eat amazing food that Lando says his trainer will hate him for, but he justifies it with the excuse of being on vacation. Hundreds of pictures were taken, your phones already begging for more storage and it was only the first day of the trip. Lando even went as far as bringing an actual camera, stating that lando.jpg would be revived soon.

But in between the sightseeing, eating, and everything else– both of your brains immediately go back to the sleeping arrangements from last night. You both can’t stop thinking about it, but no one brings it up, almost like it’s something you should be ashamed of. No one wants to admit how right it felt to be in eachothers arms last night or how both of you probably had the best sleep of your lives.

You didn’t want to admit that when you woke up this morning to Lando spooning you, your stomach was doing flips over the realization that you had moved in the middle of the night and he had found his way back to you. So many thoughts and emotions running through your brains, yet you both think it’s better to just act like it's not a big deal.

Night falls once again and Lando crawls into bed next to you. You’re both absolutely spent after the eventful day you’ve had and Lando worries that you won’t need him to fall asleep, but his worries soon dissipate because you’re tucking yourself into his side as soon as he’s gotten himself comfortable. You’re like a moth to a flame– the consequences of these actions never even enter your mind as slowly feel yourself drifting off to sleep.

And when morning comes you don’t run away when you feel Lando’s arms around you, even with the butterflies making an appearance again. You enjoy your moment alone, the sun shining in through the windows, the sound of the city already alive, and the way Lando looks as he sleeps. It's truly a beautiful morning.

He wakes up not too long after you and there’s a funny feeling in his chest when he realizes that he’s gotten to wake up with you still in his arms. That you were the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. It all just feels so natural and right, that once again no words are spoken about this very non-platonic thing that is happening between you two.

─── ༺❀༻ ───

“We’ve got a little bit a drive ahead of us today.” Lando states as he comes out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. Water droplets are scattered across his tan skin, his damp curls falling slightly onto his forehead. You’re trying not to stare, but good lord how could anyone not.

“It’s only like an hour.” You're still sitting in bed, propped up against the headboard as you now watch him rummage through his suitcase.

He holds up a shirt and shorts, silently asking for your opinion. You give him a nod of approval and he heads back to the bathroom to get dressed, but he leaves the door slightly cracked so he can still talk to you. “Yeah it was an hour. I’ve canceled the driver and made some new plans for today.”

“New plans?” You raise your voice slightly so he can hear you.

“It’s a surprise.” He peeks his head around the slightly open door— a mischievous smile painted across his face, before disappearing behind it once more. “So you had better start getting ready.” He commands as the door fully opens, revealing a fully dressed Lando.

A few short moments later a domestic scene plays out in the bathroom mirror. The double sinks both occupied, various hair products, makeup, and other random items are scattered across the counter. You’re watching Lando through the mirror as he tries to wrangle the mop of curls on his head, but everytime you look away he’s watching you brush your teeth or do your skincare. And the occasional times your eyes do meet in the mirror you’re both like little kids, eyes immediately darting away with smiles on your faces and little giggles echoing through the bathroom.

“You gonna tell me what the surprise is?” Patience had never been your strong suit and thus knowing about surprises was like a form of torture to you.

“If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise now would it?” He’s still screwing with his hair, but he’s looking at you through the mirror.

“Oh come on, just tell me. Pretty pretty please?” You’ve come up behind him, your chin resting on his shoulder as you flash your best puppy dog eyes at him through the mirror. And for a split second Lando almost cracks– those puppy dog eyes working on him better than you would have ever thought.

“The faster we pack everything up, the faster you get the surprise.” He’s shocked his words come out smoothly, his brain still foggy from your pretty eyes and close contact.

Ten minutes later you’re walking out of the elevator and into the hotel lobby, where Lando tells you to wait while he goes outside for a moment. You assume the surprise is outside and so you try to peek and see what’s out there, but he’s coming back in before you can get a good look.

“Alright let’s go.”

You don’t see anything that you would consider surprise worthy as you walk out the doors, but then Lando leads you towards the cars parked outside the hotel and stops in front of a vintage yellow Ferrari. Your eyes dart back and forth between Lando and the car, unsure if he was just stopping to admire it or if you were going to be riding in it. He answers your unasked question by opening the passenger side door, motioning for you to get in.

“Is this the surprise? Where did you even get this car from?” Your eyes widening over the car itself and the fact that he’d gone through the trouble of even finding the car.

“It’s part of the surprise-” He’s got a smirk on his face as he speaks “and I have my connections.” He motions once again for you to get into the car and this time you don’t oblige. The leather seat soft under your legs as you sit down, the car was surely close to 60 years old, yet still looked brand new.

Lando puts the luggage in the trunk while you're examining all of the car’s little quirks and details while you wait.

“Ok, you ready?” Lando asks as he gets in the driver's seat.

“Gonna tell me the other part of the surprise?”

He sighs, he wanted you to figure it out on your own, but you were so persistent sometimes. “You know how you’ve always talked about wanting to drive along the coast of Italy?” You nod, a smile already forming on your face as you realize what he’s planned for you. “Well, instead of just taking the straight shot over, we’re gonna take the long way all along the Amalfi coast. And I figured it was only fitting that we do it in a Ferrari, considering we are in Italy after all.”

You can’t wipe the smile off your face as you stare at Lando from the passenger seat. Sometimes you wondered if he was even listening to you when you spoke, but then he pulls stuff like this and you know that he’s always listening– remembering things that you care about or like. “God, I don’t deserve you.”

Thankfully the car is still parked because you’re pulling Lando into a bone crushing hug, your cheek smushed up against the side of his head, a giggle emitting from him as he tries to hug you back.

“When you told me your work approved the time off, I knew for sure that this was one thing that I wanted to make happen. That same night I was online trying to find a car to rent for the day, but then I saw this one for sale…” His words trail off and your jaw drops at the realization, but in all reality you know it’s a very Lando thing to do.

“And now we’re sitting in your newest baby?”

He’s got a sheepish look on his face as he speaks. “As soon as I saw it I knew it was the perfect car for this. Plus it’s the ultimate vacation souvenir!”

“You’re crazy.” He actually couldn’t be more perfect.

“Yeah, but you love me.” He teases as he starts the engine.

“Unfortunately.”

─── ༺❀༻ ───

The long winding road along the coast provided scenery that was beyond your wildest dreams. It was serene and picturesque– like something straight out of a movie. The bright blue water on one side of the road and the white stone mountains on the other. The various tunnels that somehow had even more breathtaking views on the other side of them. The handful of towns that you had to drive through, each of them more charming than the last, you only wished you had enough time to stay a week in all of them.

As simple as this was, you would have been more than content with this trip if you went home tomorrow, not that you wanted to, it was just that sometimes the simple things in life meant more than anything lavish to you. You weren’t hard to please, all you needed was Lando singing along to some song on the radio, beautiful scenery, and the wind blowing in your hair for you to be the happiest girl in the world right now.

The whole trip your attention was divided between the coastal beauty and the beauty in the driver's seat. You couldn’t help but glance over ever so often at Lando, especially when you’d hear him start to sing along to a song. He just looked so ethereal sitting next to you, one hand on the steering wheel– the other resting between you two.

There was a moment where you felt the sudden urge to reach out and intertwine your fingers with his, a moment of insanity you’d thought. It surely had nothing to do with how sunkissed he looked from only being in the sun one day, or how the wind had made his curls the perfect amount of messy, or how you’d catch him looking over at you with a smile on his face.

If only you knew that Lando had been fighting the urge to reach out and grab your hand too. He’d never seen you so ecstatic over something as simple as going for a drive, but he’d drive this car till he ran out of road or gas, whichever came first, just to see that smile of yours. The way your eyes sparkled in the sunlight and how you giggled at his singing was just an added bonus, but all of them made his chest feel funny. He’d been around the world more times than he could count, seen so many breathtaking places, but right now none of those places compared to the beauty that was sitting next to him in this car.

You’re in your own little world so much that you don’t even realize you’ve made it to your destination until Lando’s putting the car in park in front of a very luxurious looking villa. “We’ve arrived.” Lando states in a sing-song voice.

“Is this when you tell me Max and everyone else are actually coming too?” You question, flabbergasted over the size of the house. And you can tell what he’s thinking just by his facial expression. “Lando this place is huge just for the two of us.”

He rolls his eyes before getting out of the car to get luggage. “It’s actually a lot smaller than you think.”

When you step foot into the two story villa it immediately has that Mediterranean coast charm with intricate tile floors, artwork that adorns the walls, and windows with the most gorgeous views– needles to say you’re in love.

Then you take in just how big the place is with it’s one too many bedrooms and bathrooms and various other rooms that you probably won’t even use. Lando’s words echo in your head as you explore the house some more, and there’s nothing small about this place at all. “You’re such a liar Lan.” Your words are playful as you walk through one of the many french doors in the house that leads out to the back.

“Lie? I would nev-”

“Oh my god!” He’s cut off by you realizing that the backyard of this villa is nothing shy of paradise. A massive pergola covered part of the back of the house with vibrant bougainvillea lining the top and hanging down the sides. Various other flowers and plants are scattered strategically around the area. Under the pergola there's an outdoor kitchen and a large glass dining table, clearly meant to host a group of people, not two. Further out there’s a pool with sunbeds lined down one side of it– a poolside bar on the other.

All of these things are great, but the real show stopper is the view that this place has. From the front of the house you can’t really tell just how close you are to the water, but from out back it’s a completely different view. There’s a separate sitting area slightly further out from the pool. It’s got a little pergola of its own with couches and chairs and one of those fancy rock fire pits and that is where you get the best view.

It’s like something out of a nature documentary– it’s so perfect that it almost seems fake. The sea is so close that you can hear the waves crashing against the rocks and it’s just endless bright blue water for days. You thought the view in Naples was pretty, but this was breathtaking.

“Knew you’d love this place.” Lando states as he comes up beside you, acting like he hadn’t been lingering behind you the whole time, admiring the view (you) from afar.

It was true though, Lando knew as soon as he saw this place online that it was the one. It didn’t matter that he paid an astronomical amount for it or that the house was way too big for just the two of you. All it took was for him to see the view to know you’d be the happiest girl in the world here.

He could picture you two sitting out here in the evening, watching the sun set over the coast, undoubtedly with a bottle of pink moscato. You’d end up drinking one too many glasses and your cheeks would get red and you’d get the giggles.

As Lando stood here– eyes never leaving the beautiful scene in front of him. He can’t help but feel that funny feeling in his chest over how radiant and happy you look. And he thinks that if this house was for sale he’d buy it in a heartbeat, if that meant he got to see you like this all the time.

A smile finds its way onto your face as you glance over at the guy you call your best friend. “You weren’t lying when you said you were gonna spoil me, huh?” You gently nudge him with your elbow, your smile growing even bigger at his response.

“Only the best for my favorite person.” His smile is equally as big as you lean your head on his shoulder and in that moment he thinks that maybe the reserve driver could just finish out the season and he could just stay here with you.

That night as you both head to your rooms there’s an obvious tension in the air. You’re both slowly making your ascent up the stairs and lingering in the hall, trying to milk every last second until you inevitably have to go into your separate rooms.

After so long though, you’re the first to cave as your hand reaches for the doorknob. Your door creaks open and you’re mumbling out goodnight lan, i’ll see you in the morning before entering the room. Although you don’t close the door behind you and Lando takes that as an invitation to linger in your doorway. He doesn’t need to speak for you to know he’s there, you can feel his presence, and subconsciously you’ve left that door open for him.

“Goodnight Y/N.” You’ve got your back turned to him as you're digging through your suitcase for pajamas, but you can hear the slight grin he has on his face as he speaks.

The sight of Lando as you turn around has butterflies erupting in your stomach and it makes you feel weird to be feeling those things about your best friend. He’s leaned up against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest and that grin that you’d sensed him having was still on his face as he looked at you. Your eyes scanned over him, focusing on little details like his hair still being wind tousled and how the tops of his cheeks were slightly burnt from the car ride today.

And for someone who claimed to not need a ton of sleep– he looked so sleepy as the two of you locked eyes. Those big blue eyes slowly blinking and drooping ever so slightly as his head now too rested against the door frame. He still donned the hoodie that you teased him about putting on earlier after his claims of it being chilly once the sun set, only adding to the sleepy look he had going on right now.

Someone had never looked so cozy and you wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in his arms, but that wasn’t going to happen tonight. You will tell him goodnight again and he’ll close the door behind him before shuffling over to his room. Your mind will be preoccupied with him as you get ready for bed, the image of him in your doorway forever burned into your mind as you brush your teeth. As you crawl into bed you won’t think about how cold the sheets feel or how you want to be cuddled up to your best friend. You won’t think about how it’s been two hours that you’ve laid here and sleep has yet to greet you. And you certainly won’t think about how you’d be fast asleep right now if Lando was beside you.

But unfortunately you do think about all those things and you’ve exhausted every resource to try and distract you from it. It was different at the hotel when there was only one bed, but now with multiple bedrooms to choose from there was no reason for the two of you to sleep in the same bed. Lines were already blurring between you two without either of you knowing it and if you chose to go seek solace with Lando then those lines would blur even more.

But you didn’t know that your actions would eventually have consequences and seconds later you’re throwing the covers off of you with only one destination in mind– Lando’s room. The journey though, is short lived because as soon as you open your door you’re met with a wide eyed Lando, his fist frozen in the air like he was getting ready to knock on your door.

The frozen fist moves to rubbing the back of his neck as he speaks to you. “Sorry, was coming to see if you were still awake.”

“I was coming to see if you were up too.” He’s still got that hoodie on from earlier, but you noticed he’d changed out his shorts for boxers. His hair was even more messy and you’d wondered if he had even fallen asleep yet. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

Lando shrugs. “Not really– kept tossing and turning.” He acts like the reason he can’t go to sleep isn’t right in front of him as he rests his head on the familiar door frame.

“Yeah I can tell by your hair.” You tease. He just gives you a half assed smile and when he doesn’t tease you back that’s when you realize just how tired he is. “You want to watch some TV or something? ”

He shakes his head no. The only thing he wants to do is go to sleep, but how can he when you’re not next to him? It was embarrassing to admit that only after two nights of sharing the same bed that he couldn’t sleep on his own, but here he was. His big bed felt too empty and he realized that even if he slept in a twin sized bed it would still feel empty without you next to him.

Not to mention he’d found comfort in you being his personal heater at night. It was no secret that Lando ran cold, often seen sporting a jacket during race weekends while his teammate was in shorts. So with his personal heater gone, he’d resorted to wearing a hoodie to bed, which didn’t come close to holding a candle to you.

When he finally worked up the courage to get up and go to your room he was pleasantly surprised to find you up too and facing the same problem as him. A little sliver of him hoping that it was the exact same problem and that you couldn’t sleep without him.

For a split second you caught his eyes looking past you and towards your bed. He couldn’t have made it any more obvious, but if was actually hinting at what you thought he was hinting at, then you weren’t going to pass up on the opportunity. It wasn’t a coincidence that he had come to your door and that you both had trouble sleeping in separate beds. So, you act on impulse and tell him come on just sleep in here tonight and like a little kid who’s gotten scared of the thunder at night he’s crawling into your bed in an instant.

It’s like you two are magnets– immediately finding your way to each other under the sheets and it doesn’t take long for the both of you to finally fall asleep. And some time in the middle of the night Lando had shed his hoodie, no longer needing it with you pressed against him. When you two wake in the morning with the sun streaming through the windows and sleepy smiles plastered on your faces, there’s an unspoken agreement that even with the plethora of beds in this house, you two would be sleeping in the same one every night.

─── ༺❀༻ ───

Lando and you were best friends, nothing more. Nevermind the sharing a bed every night or the longing glances or the sometimes suggestive thoughts you had about him. So maybe your friendship wasn’t practical or normal, but there was nothing romantic going on between you two. It was something you had drilled into your head for some time now. You’d try to ignore the way your heart would speed up when you’d catch him looking at you or the way he always has to have physical contact with you. And any other crazy thoughts that you’d speculated about had always been pushed aside rather quickly. He was your best friend after all and once again nothing more.

Though over the course of the week you’d found yourself having a hard time in pushing aside those non platonic thoughts about Lando. There were instances you two had found yourselves in that you just couldn’t ignore.

─── ༺❀༻ ───

“What’s the plan for today?” You ask as the two of you are sitting outside the cutest little restaurant, enjoying brunch.

Lando finishes the last little bit of his eggs before answering you. “Well nothing that involves you getting behind a motor vehicle with the way you’ve been downing those bellinis.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics. Yes, you’d had your fair share of bellinis, but they were so damn good and there really wasn’t that much alcohol in them for it to be an issue. “How about we just see where the day takes us?”

“Well I already had the idea of renting jet skis in my head, but I guess we’ll do what you suggested.” You joke.

Now Lando’s the one to roll his eyes at you as he flags down the waiter for the check. He doesn’t even look at it when it’s brought over, he just hands his card over like it’s nothing. It’s something that you still aren’t used to him doing even after knowing him for so long and you’re sure he’s gotten ripped off more times than he could imagine.

He quickly signs for it once the waiter comes back and with his card back in his wallet you’re free to go. Except when you stand up all those bellinis hit you and you’re a little unsteady on your feet, something that Lando clocks immediately. You aren’t drunk, just buzzed, but Lando isn’t going to let you live this down. “You wanted to rent jet skis huh?” He teases as he wraps an arm around your waist to steady you.

“Think we still could to be honest.” You’re confident in your ability to walk on your own, but Lando insists on keeping his hold on you.

“Well I don’t want to waste a day at the hospital, so let’s just look around at the shops.”

You’d passed them on your way to brunch and Lando had promised you’d come back to them. They were cute little stores, each one specializing in certain things. You took your time in each one, feeling the silky material of some of the dresses, admiring the leather detailing on the handbags, and gawking at the dazzling jewelry in the displays. Everything was quite luxurious and your eyes couldn’t help but linger on a certain bag and bracelet, but the price tags were all you had to see to know they weren’t coming home with you.

Lando had been watching you the whole time, fully prepared to be your bag boy and was ready to pull out his wallet whenever he’d see you pick something up. But much to his disappointment, all you did was look and after going through all the stores you left empty handed. “You didn’t see anything you wanted?” Lando asks as you continue down the street.

You simply shrug your shoulders at him. “Nothing that I couldn’t live without.” He doesn’t press the matter anymore, fully knowing that he’d be coming back sometime this week to get you that bag and bracelet that you kept circling back to.

The streets are charming and bright. It’s a place that you can’t help but feel alive in, especially as the summer sun beats down on you, but the light breeze coming in off the sea makes it bearable. Your buzz was long gone, but Lando still insisted that you link your arm with his as you stroll down the streets– just in case. You don’t oblige to his request, enjoying the feeling of holding onto his solid bicep as the sound of him slightly humming the song that was playing at brunch fills your ears.

A sense of peacefulness washes over you and it’s at this moment that you don’t feel like you’re on the arm of the famous Formula 1 driver Lando Norris. He doesn’t have a million cameras on him or people flocking to him for an autograph. It’s just you and your best friend Lando– the boy who was gagging when you teased the idea of ordering fish at dinner last night or who you laid in bed with this morning, watching dumb Tiktoks until you were both in tears laughing. It was nice for once, to just have Lando.

You’re just about ready to circle back to the villa when you hear a woman shouting in Italian from down the street. You’re not anywhere near fluent, but you recognize some basic words and what you’ve heard has you pulling Lando towards the voice.

Fior! Bei Fiori!

At the end of the street there stood the lady, who had a cart of the most vibrant fresh flowers. When she spotted the two of you approaching, a smile painted itself across her face. “I think your pretty girl deserves some flowers, don’t you?”

The corners of your mouth turn upwards and a smile is painted across your face. You can feel your cheeks getting warm at her statement, at the implication that you were Lando’s, but it’s his response that makes them comparable to the roses found on the cart.

Lando feels his chest get tight over the lady assuming the two of you were together. It’s nothing new, for people to assume that he’s with a girl just because he’s seen with one. Though for some reason when someone says it about you, it gets a reaction out of him. He’s grinning as he looks at you and then back to the sweet old lady. “You’re right, my pretty girl does deserve some flowers.”

The butterflies that erupted in your stomach at his words were embarrassing and not the appropriate reaction to be having over your best friend, but his comment wasn’t very platonic either. You’re blushing and grinning, probably very easily comparable to a school girl at the moment. He’s got a smug look on his face as he hands you of course the biggest bouquet the lady had. It’s truly a beautiful bouquet and it smells divine, it had anything you could have gotten at the shops beaten by a mile.

As you head back towards the villa you can’t wipe the smile off your face and you can’t stop thinking about my pretty girl. The words shamelessly repeating over and over again in your head. “So you think I’m pretty huh?” You tease.

Now Lando’s the one to blush and he hopes you just think it’s just from the heat and sun as you look at him. “Of course I do. I’d have to be blind to not think so.” He’s sincere with his words, he truly thinks you’re one of the most breathtaking women he’s ever met– intellectually and physically.

You lean your head on his arm, the same one you’ve still wrapped yourself around. “You sure know how to swoon 'em.”

“You’re my best friend. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

And for the first time, for both of you, it feels weird and almost stings to hear the word best friend said out loud. Because deep down you know you’re way more than that.

─── ༺❀༻ ───

Although you weren’t that much of a party girl you didn’t mind going out every once in a while. So when Lando suggested going out to one of the bars tonight it didn’t seem like a bad idea. You’d done your fair share of relaxing and to you that meant a night out deserved to be had.

With a final spritz of your perfume you’re ready to go and as you looked in the mirror one last time you couldn’t help but think damn, I look good. You found Lando waiting for you in the foyer, his head lifting up from his phone at the sound of your heels clicking down the stairs. “Might want to close your mouth before you attract flies Lan.” He hadn’t even realized he was in that much of a trance until you said something, he could feel his cheeks getting warm at getting caught.

You hook your arm with his as he leads you out the front door. “Sorry, you just look unreal tonight.”

“Well you don’t look too bad yourself.” He’d chosen his tried and true white button up, leaving the first few buttons undone, which revealed even more of his gorgeous tanned skin. How someone could make something as simple as a white button up shirt look so good was beyond you, but it was clearly something he was skilled at.

The bar you end up at is relatively small and you realize it must be the most popular one with how packed it is. It’s on the coast and there’s a gorgeous outdoor area that you are immediately drawn to, mainly because there’s slightly less people out here. It’s still a good time though and the people are somehow even more rowdy out here and you wonder if it’s the fresh air.

You’ve danced, drank, laughed, talked, everything you could think of on a night out. It's been nice, especially doing it all with Lando, who somehow through the course of the night has undone more buttons on his shirt and you think he might as well just undo them all. It’s clearly getting late from how the crowd is slowly starting to thin out, but you two are still having a ball, and you figure you’ll stay till they kick you out.

Lando’s gone inside to get you both another drink, which he easily could have gotten from the bartender out here, but he claimed that the guy didn’t know what he was doing. While you wait you venture off to a far corner of the patio that’s somewhat empty. There’s a couple people sitting in chairs sharing a cigarette, but other than that you’re alone. Even in the dark the view is amazing and as you lean on the railing a nice breeze comes in off the water. It’s relaxing and nice, especially when you’re that sticky kind of sweaty and a little more drunk than you realize.

“Absolutely beautiful.” You jump at the unfamiliar, yet familiar voice. It had been a minute since you’d heard another British accent besides Lando’s. When you turn around to put a face to the voice you aren’t expecting to see such a gorgeous man standing there. He’s really the whole package– stunning blue eyes, pretty smile, fluffy light brown hair, nice facial hair.

“Uh- yeah it is.” You assumed he was talking about the view.

“Can I join you?”

He’s cute and you wouldn’t mind some company, so you tell him yes.

“Where’d your boyfriend run off to?” He asks as he nurses his Corona.

“He’s not my boyfriend, but I’m not wrong in assuming you know who he is, right?” This guy is in his twenties and British, if he didn’t know who Lando was then he had to be living under a rock.

He takes a swig of his beer before responding. “I know who he is.”

You scoff, there was a big possibility that he was using you to get to meet Lando, it was something you’d dealt with many times before. Guys showing interest in you only in hopes of becoming Lando’s friend or even worse girls who would befriend you only to try and get with Lando. You weren’t some step on the ladder that led to Lando, you were your own person with feelings and a life, who deserved to have people like you for you, not who you knew.

Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the fact that you’re done being led on by people, but either way you confront the guy about it. “Are you using me to get to him?”

You hear him laugh a little and it lights a fire in you, but his words extinguish it before it gets out of control. “I was brave enough to come over here and willingly flirt with you before I even knew if he was your boyfriend or not. If I was trying to use you to get to him, I don’t think that would be a good plan. Which now that I know you’re not his girlfriend, kinda makes me think he’s an idiot. How could he have a girl like you in his life and not be madly in love with you?”

Your brain is fuzzy as you’re trying to process what he’s said. “Sorry wait- you were flirting with me?”

He’s got a cheeky grin on his face and he lets out a chuckle at your cluelessness. “When I said ‘absolutely beautiful’ I wasn’t talking about the view.”

“Oh.” You’d thought it was kind of weird for him to just randomly say that about the view, but for it to be aimed towards you was the last thing you had thought of. “Well, flirt all you want then.”

Not only did this place have one bartender that was incompetent, it seemed like all of them were. Lando had waited for what seemed like ages for a beer and a vodka cranberry. It wasn’t even that busy at the bar for it to be taking so long and at one point he contemplated just going behind the bar and doing it himself. By the time he finally got them he was surprised you hadn’t come looking for him, but when he made his way out onto the patio he saw exactly why you hadn’t.

Over in the corner Lando sees you doubled over laughing with some guy as he watches from afar. His grip on the glasses gets tighter as he sees you place your hand on the guy's arm. The tightness in his chest increases the longer he stands here and watches. It bothers him more than he cares to admit– to see you with some random guy. To hear that laugh of yours and him not being the source of it is driving him crazy. But what really sends him over the edge is when the guy tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear and without a second thought he’s storming over there.

Lando tries to play it cool as he approaches and he’s glad he’s got these drinks to use as an excuse. Your mid conversation when Lando interrupts, but he doesn’t care one bit. “Here’s your drink.” He says as he pushes the slightly watered down glass towards you.

“Oh thanks Lan.” You flash him a smile, but his face is emotionless and the fun light hearted atmosphere has suddenly turned awkward. For some reason you feel like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. “Um, Lando this is-” You remember at that moment that you hadn’t even asked the guy his name, which to you makes this even more awkward.

“Harry.”

“Right. Lando, this is Harry.” You motion between the two men. “Harry, this is Lando.”

Harry extends a hand out to Lando and they very awkwardly shake hands. “Nice to meet you mate.”

Lando only nods his head at him before turning his focus back to you. “I think we should get going, they are gonna close soon.”

You think he’s joking, considering he’d waited all that time to get these drinks, and now he suddenly wants to leave. “I just got my drink, can we at least stay until I finish it?” It also feels rude to just abruptly leave in the middle of the conversation that you were enjoying with Harry. But Lando doesn’t know how to hide his emotions very well and by the look on his face you know he’s being serious.

“Well you can stay, but I’m leaving.” He knows he shouldn’t leave you alone with some guy you just met, but god he doesn’t think he can stand here and watch you flirt with him anymore than he already has. So, without hearing your response he starts making his way towards the exit.

A regretful look washes across your face as you look at Harry. “That was so rude of him, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s up with him, he never acts like that.” You take a big swig of your drink, fully knowing dealing with Lando is gonna be a pain. “It was really nice talking to you, but I better go hunt him down.”

He shrugs, clearly not as upset over this whole situation as Lando or you are. “No biggie, I’m sure we’ll see each other around. It’s a small place.” You bid him goodbye, but you don’t get very far before he’s hollering. “Can I at least get your Instagram?” Which has you coming back and quickly exchanging usernames before you're off again to find Lando.

You run into him in the bar and it looks like he was coming back out towards the patio. A look of relief washes over him when he sees you and he’s leading you away from the loud music and out the front exit before either of you can say anything. Only once the bass of the music is a faint sound in the distance does Lando speak up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone with that guy. I was coming back in when you found me.”

“I appreciate you looking out for me, but you were kinda rude to him for no reason.”

Guess you were diving in head first with this.

Lando stops walking and turns to face you, a confused look on his face. “I wasn’t being rude.”

“Yes you were. We were having a conversation and you just butted in and demanded we leave. Not to mention you wouldn’t even speak to him. He was nice, you would have liked him if you gave him the time of day.”

“You barely know the guy, you talked to him for what ten-fifteen minutes? I just didn’t have a good feeling about him.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his dumb excuse. He shook the guy's hand and didn’t get a good feeling about him? Bullshit. “Well if you didn’t have a good feeling about him then why’d you leave me with him?” He’d started to walk again, but stopped dead in his tracks at your words, spinning on his heel to face you once again.

“I already told you I regretted leaving you. I just had to get out of there for a second.”

“Why?” You were being adamant, your arms crossed across your chest as you waited for his answer.

He knew exactly why, but he couldn’t tell you that, he hadn’t even fully accepted it himself. “I don’t know Y/N.”

You’re getting frustrated with him and these damn heels that you chose to wear are not making your mood any better. “There’s a reason for everything, Lando. How would you like it if I acted like you did tonight with a girl you were talking to? You’d be livid.”

He completely ignores your accusation and turns the conversation in another direction. It had been itching at him to know if you were just being nice or if you were actually interested in the guy, so he plucked up the courage to ask. “So you were flirting with him?”

The look on your face is one of pure confusion, but your tone is nothing but shitty. “I’m not sure how you jumped to that conclusion from what I said or why it’s really any of your concern, but yeah it was just some harmless flirting. I’m sorry for having a little fun!” You were thankful that it was late enough for the street to be relatively empty, the last thing that needed to happen was pictures or a video getting out of you two arguing. You were sure there were already rumors about you two being on vacation together, you could only imagine how this would be misconstrued.

Hearing that his best friend was potentially interested in someone else had his head spinning and he could no longer blame his reactions on the alcohol. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore, ignore the way his heart raced when he looked at you. Or how he loved hearing that old lady call you his girl the other day.

It had been building up– festering almost this whole week and maybe subconsciously he wanted to go on this trip with you to see if there was some truth to what everyone had teased him about. He just didn’t think it would actually be true. Or that at two in the morning on a dimly lit street in Italy, during an argument, he would finally accept that he was in love with you.

But even with him realizing he’s in love with you, that doesn’t stop him from being an absolute idiot. “He was probably just using you to get to me.” Lando immediately regrets what he said as soon as it comes out of his mouth. He knows that's a sore subject for you and the look of hurt on your face makes his stomach churn.

“Now you’re just being mean.” You’re sure it’s a mixture of things that are contributing to the salty tears welling up in your eyes at the moment, but it’s Lando’s comment that actually makes them fall. You’re storming off before he can say anything, wishing you would have just stayed at the bar with Harry.

Lando knows he’s an idiot, but he also knows he’s the one who lit the match, which means he’s gotta be the one to put it out. “Y/N come on. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have said that.” He catches up with you rather quickly, your heels slowing you down.

“Just leave me be Lando.”

“Y/N. Stop walking for just a minute.” He’s grabbing at your arm, trying to halt your movement.

You stop and face him and for what it’s worth he does look sorry, but that doesn’t change how you feel. “What? You want to poke fun at me some more?”

“No I-”

“You know I was just having a little harmless fun with that guy, like you said I talked to him for what? Fifteen minutes? Nothing was going to come out of it. But is it really that far-fetched of an idea for a guy to actually be interested in me just for me? Am I that undesirable and unlovable for it to seem like a reality? Or was he like everyone else who’s used me and threw me away as soon as they got their five minutes of the almighty Lando Norris experience?”

The tears that slide down your cheeks are a mixture of anger and embarrassment and maybe you were being a little dramatic. Perhaps the multiple drinks you’d consumed weren’t helping either, but when the person you care about the most says something like that, something you’d confided in him about, it hurts.

Lando feels his heart break to hear you talk about yourself like that. All he wants to do is to scream out that you’re not undesirable or unlovable. He’s wanted you and loved you for some time now, the moment it started he’s not sure, but he knows it didn’t happen overnight. It’s always been there– he was just too blind to see it.

He’s not entirely sure on how to make this right, he knows he was an ass, but he also knows he can’t take back what’s been said. The worst part is that he knows exactly how you feel and somehow he still thought that was a good thing to throw in your face– all because he was jealous. He could deal with people trying to use him, he’d developed a sixth sense for them and never let it get too far, but you were too kind. Your big heart and trusting of others had gotten you burned one too many times and it hurt Lando even more to know that all that had happened because of him.

“I should have never said that to you. I know first hand how it feels to have people use me and the only reason you’ve had to deal with that is because of me. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Your sniffles fill the night air as you try to calm yourself down. While people used you to get to Lando, at least they didn’t want to be your friend to leech off your fame. Use you for your money and generosity, expecting paddock passes and some lavish lifestyle. People saw Lando as an object rather than a person more times than not. While your feelings were valid and Lando was still an ass for saying that, you realized to be in his shoes was worse. So, you wipe away your tears and accept his apology indirectly. “Think we’ve only got each other at this point.”

His voice is soft as he approaches you, his hand reaching up to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face. “Don’t think I need anyone else but you.”

The tender moment has you turning to putty in his hands– the argument pushed to the back of your mind. His hand moves to cup your face and his tumb brushes gently across your cheek. You feel like time has frozen in this moment and for a split second you swear he looks at your lips, like he’s going to kiss you. The fact that this is your best friend is no concern to you at the moment. Then the moment between you two is ruined just as fast as it began, the sound of a very loud and drunk group of people leaving the bar up the street brings you both back to reality.

You back away from each other slowly, like you weren’t sure exactly what had just almost happened. You’d already resorted to blaming it on both of your emotions still running wild and the alcohol still coursing through your veins. The group of people are getting closer, their obnoxious singing getting louder as each second passes. They might not even know who Lando is, but you aren’t in the mood to wait around and find out, the last thing you want to deal with right now is drunk fans. “We’ve had too much to drink, my head and feet hurt. Let’s go home.” You grumble as you begin the trek home once again, your feet aching more and more with each step.

Lando stops for a moment and kicks off his shoes, he couldn’t let you walk in pain the whole way home. Especially after the pain he had caused moments ago. “Here put these on, your feet are killing you.” He hands you the white sneakers before squatting down in front of you to help you get your heels off.

Your feet already thank you as you slip on the oversized shoes that clomp on the stone street. And like a magnet you find yourself wrapping your arm around his as you walk down the street. You’re sure you two are a sight–you in shoes that are way too big and Lando only in socks as he holds your heels for you.

“You know you’re still an ass.” You tell him as you lean your head on his shoulder.

“I know.”

“You know you aren’t unloveable.” He hopes you know he’s being sincere, your words still replaying in his mind as you walk.

“I know.”

By the time you make it back to the villa you’re both exhausted. The alcohol, the argument, that moment between you two, the walk home– you were sure tomorrow morning would be a rough one. There aren’t many words spoken as you get ready for bed and as you slide under the covers next to Lando you can’t shake something from your mind from tonight, and it wasn’t the argument.

It was the fact that during the whole time you were chatting with Harry, you couldn’t help but compare him to Lando. There wasn’t the same sparkle in his eye like Lando, his smile wasn’t the same, his laugh. It seemed like everything that you noticed about this guy came second best to Lando. Sure you were having fun and he was nice, but not once had the thought of Lando slipped your mind. And even right now, with Lando next to you, you’re still somehow thinking about him.

It didn’t take long for Lando to fall asleep and you were on the verge of it when your phone went off on the nightstand. Usually, you would just ignore it, but something in you told you to see what it was.

harryinsta is now following you

You then see that he had sent you a DM and you’re expecting it to be about meeting up some time, which you were going to politely decline, but it’s quite the opposite.

harryintsa: i must have been mistaken earlier. lando's not an idiot.

yourinsta: huh?

harryinsta: he’s in love with you lol

Your heart nearly beats out of your chest as you read the message over and over again. Lando wasn’t in love with you, was he? Sure you’d heard it from just about everyone in your life that you two were in love with each other, but you always thought it was silly. You guys were just best friends is what you would always say, but to hear it come from a literal stranger was different.

You couldn’t lie that you hadn’t recently had your moments of perhaps thinking that he did, though you’d always talk yourself out of the idea. Although, if he was in love with you that may explain his behavior tonight. Or maybe it was just the alcohol like you’d originally thought. Then the tender moment you two shared entered your mind and suddenly the gears in your head are working overtime.

You locked your phone and sat it back down on the nightstand. Just from a simple DM you’d gone from being dead tired to now being wide awake– staring at the ceiling. You’re not sure how much time had passed as you laid there over analyzing every interaction with Lando. You were struggling enough trying to figure out the things you had recently felt about Lando, let alone the possibility that he was in love with you. All you knew for sure was that things weren’t the same between you two, you’d felt a shift when you were with him in Monaco before the Belgium GP. It had only amplified during this trip and you had a feeling that by the end of it things would be different.

─── ༺❀༻ ───

Two days later you’re sunbathing on a comfy lounger on the beach, while Lando’s out in the water doing god knows what. You’d given up on watching him a while ago, deciding instead to be productive and try to catch up to Lando’s tan level. Which, after laying here for some time now, it seemed impossible. That boy could be in the sun for a day and have a glowing tan– you not so much.

Moments later you think a cloud has passed in front of the sun, but when you feel cool water droplets on your hot skin you peek open one eye to find a wet and grinning Lando standing over you. “Hi.”

“Hi.” You greet him back as you sit up, your smile matching his. “Did you have fun out there?”

“I had a lot of fun and the water felt amazing. You should have got in.”

“I will later.” You notice he’s got one of his hands behind his back like he’s hiding something. “Lan, what have you got?” He tries to play dumb for a moment, trying to wind you up, but he eventually caves and pulls a plastic pail from behind his back. “Please don’t tell me you stole that from a kid.” Your half joking and half being serious, because where the hell did he get that from?

“I did not steal it from a kid– I borrowed it.” The smile on his face never falls as he continues to speak. “They had a bunch of them. I don't think they’ll miss it. Plus I needed something to put your present in.”

You cock an eyebrow at him, curiosity written all over your face. “My present?”

He’s smiling so hard as he sits down at the end of the lounger that you think this must be the best present in the world. Seconds later the pail is turned upside down and out falls the prettiest seashells. Your heart swells when you realize all that time he had spent out in the water he was looking for shells– for you. There’s a light pink one that catches your eye and Lando notices when you reach for it.

“Knew you’d like that one.”

Of course he knew that, sometimes you think he knows you better than you know yourself. “Can’t believe you spent all that time finding them.”

He shrugs like it’s an everyday thing. “I knew it would make you happy, which meant I enjoyed doing it. Really only took me so long because I wanted them all to be perfect for you.”

The sun beating down on you feels cold with how hard you’re blushing. “You’re my favorite person, you know that?”

Lando starts to get shy when you get sappy, like he hadn’t just said the sweetest thing a second ago. He’s smiling, but focuses on carefully putting the shells back into the pail. “You’re my favorite person too.”

A while later you decide to open up the umbrella between the two loungers. You had chosen to give up on the tanning lifestyle and instead dive into a new book. While Lando was fast asleep on the lounger next to you, apparently all that hunting for shells had worn him out.

You’d noticed out of the corner of your eye awhile ago that a little boy kept glancing over in your direction, specifically at Lando. You knew he had to have been a fan or he was the kid Lando stole the pail from. The nervous glances back and forth tell you that thankfully he’s a fan and you think it’s the cutest thing. You’re in the middle of considering waking Lando up so the boy could come over when you hear a groan that is undoubtedly Lando awaking from his slumber.

“What are you looking at?” He asks as he rubs his eyes.

You nod your head in the direction of the boy who’s just seen that Lando is awake and is practically bouncing with glee. “Think you may have a fan.”

A big grin spreads across Lando’s face as he sees the little boy. Lando loved meeting all his fans, but meeting the kids was his favorite. He thinks a big part of the reason he always makes sure to find time for the younger fans was because he was that kid once. Before he was ever F1 driver Lando Norris, he was just a kid who finally got the chance to meet their idol and he knows that picture or an autograph means the world to them

Lando motions for the boy to come over and he’s instantly tugging on his Mom’s shirt to get her to come with him. She gives you guys a questioning look and when Lando motions again they both come over.

The little boy’s Italian accent is the cutest thing ever as he greets you two and you can tell just how much it means to him to be talking to Lando.

“What’s your name?” Lando asks as he signs a beach towel of all things.

“Luca and I’m seven!”

“Seven is a great age. You know I started karting when I was seven!”

Luca’s eyes get as wide as saucers as he glances back at his Mom, who is already shutting down any talk of Luca karting. “I told you possibly next year. You’re still my little baby. I don't want you getting hurt!”

Lando gives the Mom an apologetic look. “How about a picture?” Which easily takes Luca’s attention away from karting, as he’s already at Lando’s side with a big smile on his face before his Mom has her phone out.

They take a couple pictures and high fives are exchanged throughout their interaction. The whole thing is very sweet and you can’t help but look on in adoration, fully knowing that Lando would make a great Father one day.

You see that Luca keeps looking over at you and then back to Lando, but you don’t pay that much mind to it. You figured he was just nervous or something, but what comes out of his mouth next takes you by surprise.

“Your girlfriend is very pretty.”

You feel your heart skip a beat and you glance over at Lando to see what his reaction is. You prepare yourself for the worst, but in true Lando fashion he’s all smiles. In fact he’s sporting that full face smile of his and it makes you feel funny.

“Thank you buddy, I think so too.” He looks over at you with nothing but love in his eyes and you’re immediately looking away like some shy school girl.

Thankfully, the Mom comes to your aid and quickly changes the subject. “Ok Luca, you’ve bothered them enough. We should get back to our spot. Thank them for their time.”

His cute little voice mutters out grazie as he gives you a small wave goodbye.

“It was very nice to meet you, Luca.” Lando bids him farewell and you both wave back at the little boy.

As soon as they’re gone you’re immediately shoving your face back into your book, you don’t even want to talk about what had just happened. It was nothing really to be so worked up over, it was just a little kid who saw two people together and assumed they were together. It happens all the time. But it is a big deal when you find yourself liking being referred to as Lando’s girlfriend. It doesn’t help when neither of you deny it and correct the person. Lando likes to play into it and you love it too much to say anything.

Ever since getting that DM the other night your mind had been in a whirlwind over how Lando felt about you and how you felt about him. Hell you can’t even look at him right now, you’re so in your head that you’ve been staring at the same page for the last five minutes. You just wished the book you were reading could tell you how to come to terms with the fact that you’re in love with your best friend.

It was something you’d realized the other night while you were awake overthinking everything. Those feelings had always been there, but you had just pushed them aside, ignoring every little butterfly or rapid heartbeat. When they actually turned into romantic feelings you have no clue because as far as you knew, you and Lando had always been like this.

You two just dove in head first into the co-dependent friendship that was more like a relationship lifestyle. All those times you’d gone to his parents house for family dinners and holidays, both of you attached at the hip. How he wanted to ask you to move to Monaco with him and then almost didn’t even move because he said he’d miss you too much. The group vacations that always ended up with you two going off and doing your own thing. The texts from him every Wednesday before a race asking if he needed to get you a paddock pass and a flight. This trip in particular– sleeping in the same bed when you don’t have to, the cuddling, the getting mistaken for a couple three times so far, the fact that it was just you two alone on the trip.

It was all there the whole time and you wondered how you could have been so blind to not realize it sooner. You were in love with him. You loved his pretty eyes and curls and the way his real laugh only seemed to come out around you. You loved his big heart and his caring nature and sometimes you thought he was too nice to be a Formula 1 driver.

You loved everything about him and truth be told it made your stomach hurt from how much you loved him. You wanted to actually be his and be able to kiss those pink lips that you sometimes found yourself staring at. When people said you were his girlfriend you wanted it to actually be true and not have it be Lando just playing along. You were so down bad that you prayed that Harry was right and that Lando was actually in love with you too.

While you were freaking out, so was Lando. When you immediately went back to reading your book and not speaking a word, he figured he had weirded you out by basically implying that you were his girlfriend. He just figured it was easier to go along with what the kid thought than explain that you weren’t his girlfriend, but god does he wish you were. He didn’t know what to say to try and test the waters because he knew whatever he would say would come out awkward and he didn’t want to make things worse. So, once again it’s not talked about and you two pretend that it didn’t happen when you finally speak again.

─── ༺❀༻ ───

It’s the last day of the trip and you’re dreading going back to reality and away from this little slice of heaven. The only thing you have to look forward to is the supposed fancy dinner that Lando had planned for tonight, which was what you were currently getting ready for. Music plays through your phone and you softly sing along as you do your makeup. When you look up after digging in your makeup bag you spot Lando in the mirror, leaning against the door frame behind you. Your eyes lower and you see that he’s holding two gift bags.

"Those better be for your Mom.” You state as you put the finishing touches on your makeup.

“I think we both know they aren’t.” He sees you roll your eyes in the mirror and it only makes him want to spoil you more. “It’s our last day, I think you deserve a parting gift.”

You turn to face him as he makes his way over to you. “I haven’t gotten you a single thing this whole time. It makes me feel bad.”

Lando only shakes his head at you. “You being here with me is the best gift you could have ever gotten me. I truly don’t need anything else.” He hands you the bags. “Now open them please.”

A small smile finds its way onto your face as you take the bags from him. You decide to open the bigger bag first and once you pull out the tissue paper you know exactly what it is. It’s still in its dust bag, but you see the branding and your jaw is dropping before you even see the actual thing. “You did not get me this bag Lando!” You exclaim as you remove the dust bag and see that it’s the same bag you were eyeing at the store the other day.

He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Saw you eyeing it and knew I had to get it for you and before you say anything else open the other present.”

You set the handbag down and grab the smaller gift trying to figure out what else he could have possibly gotten you. When you open it and see the bracelet you were also looking at the other day you’re at a loss for words. “Lando Norris!” You could slap him, hug him, kiss him, and yell at him all at once. He’d dropped probably close to six grand on these two gifts and your head is spinning at the thought of it.

“Don’t even say anything about the price. I know you’re thinking it, but I wouldn’t have bought you them if I couldn’t afford it. I wanted you to have them, you deserve nice things.” You deserved a lot more than a handbag and a bracelet, but what he thought you deserved money couldn’t buy.

You know there's no use in fighting him on it, but you still feel bad that he just spends all this money on you. He takes the bracelet from the box and fastens it around your wrist, the diamonds glittering in the light as you move it around. It’s truly stunning and the handbag will go great with your outfit tonight. As soon as you two make eye contact again you’re pulling him into a bone crushing hug and you two stay like that for probably longer than necessary. “Thank you a million times Lan. I love them both so much.”

It’s time to leave for dinner shortly after that and when you arrive at the restaurant the host guides you back to a secluded corner. It’s a very romantic ambiance and you can’t help but feel like you’re on a date, which wouldn’t be a horrible thing. Moments later a waiter comes over with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “It’s on the house– for the special couple.”

There it is again and it seems like with each time it happens it makes your heart race even more. Lando shifts in his seat and you focus on the rising bubbles in the glasses as the waiter pours the champagne. Lando tells him thank you and your attention moves to the menu.

“What are you thinking about getting?” You ask, ignoring the obvious.

“Probably the steak.” He grabs the flute of champagne and takes a drink. “What was that? The fourth time now?”

You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you’re surprised he’s decided to talk about it. “Yeah it was.” You set the menu down and grab the other flute. “Think I’ll get the steak too.”

Dinner actually turns out to be an amazing time. The food is decadent and Lando and you have good conversations that don’t revolve around you two being mistaken for a couple or being in love with each other. When the waiter brings the bill you’re quite sad because that just means this trip is that much closer to being over.

You take your time heading back to the villa, trying to savor every last moment you’ve got here. The sun was low in the sky by the time you get back and you tell Lando just how you want to spend your final evening in Italy. You hurry and change into comfier clothes and take off all your makeup before heading to the spot with the best view out back. Lando makes his way out there not too long after you, but he’s got one more surprise for you.

“Don’t think the evening or this trip would be complete without this now would it?” He pulls a bottle of pink moscato from behind his back along with two wine glasses.

He knew you too well, but it was something you loved dearly about him. “You’re a man after my heart Norris.”

He hands you a glass as he sits down next to you, the sun just beginning to set on the horizon. “I try.”

There’s a comfortable silence between you two for a while and the only sound to be heard is from the waves below. It feels like paradise sitting here with this amazing view and the guy you love next to you. It’s probably boring to the majority of people, but this was everything you could ask for and more and the perfect way to end this amazing trip. You lean in closer to Lando, your head resting on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you. A content sigh escapes past your lips as his thumb starts to draw mindless circles on your arm.

“Thank you again for everything. This trip was amazing and I’m glad we got to go together– just you and me.”

“I’m glad too. It was probably the best summer break trip I’ve had. Don’t think Ibiza will be seeing me for a while.”

You’re not even looking at him, but you can sense the smile on his face and you can’t help but laugh at his lie. “Yeah, and I don’t like pink moscato.”

“Alright so Ibiza will inevitably see me, but not as much as Italy.” He pauses for a moment, glancing down at you still resting on his shoulder, his heart swelling just by looking at you. “I think this may be our place now, just for the two of us.” His voice is soft when he says it, like he’s not sure if he wanted to say it outloud.

You lift your head up and are met with his piercing blue eyes staring back at you. He looked radiant as golden hour cascades over him and it’s like you’re in a trance as you look at him. You take in every last bit of him, all the little details about him that you’ve memorized over the years. The slight stubble on his face from not shaving for a couple days, the little moles, his long and somehow always curled eyelashes, those pink lips of his. He’s everything you could have ever dreamed of and more. You’ve had him at fingertip length for so long now and all you want to do is reach out for him, take what you want and never let go.

Lando feels his breath catch in his throat as you two make eye contact. You’d never looked more beautiful than in this moment and he doesn’t know how much longer he can take without you actually being his. You were the love of his life, his best friend, and everything he’s ever wanted. It may have taken him a long time to realize it, but he’s never felt like this about anyone before. You know each other like the back of your hands and it only makes sense that you’d be the one for him.

And it’s in this moment that it clicks for you two that it’s now or never. You’re never going to have a perfect moment like this again. It feels right, like the universe wants this moment to happen and if you let it go to waste you may never get the chance again. Lando takes his free hand and gently cups your face, his thumb ever so softly rubbing across your cheek. You’re practically putty in his hands and you feel like your heart is gonna beat out of your chest. You want to scream out to him that you love him, that you want to be his, but you can barely get your brain to communicate with your mouth.

“Lan-”

That’s all you can get out before Lando’s leaning in and his lips are on yours. He tastes like the sugary sweet wine and his lips are soft as they move in sync with yours. Kissing him is even better than you’d imagined and as your hand reaches up to his neck you deepen the kiss. It feels like you two had kissed a thousand times before and as he pulls away you’re already left wanting more.

Your foreheads rest against each other, both of you breathless and a little light headed from that singular kiss. When you both actually internalize what’s just happened you’re both grinning, that then turns into laughing and it’s like music to both of your ears to hear each other laugh.

“I think that was a long time coming.” You state as you finally lean back onto the couch.

Lando reaches out for your hand, intertwining his with yours. “When did you realize?”

“That night when we got into that argument, which looking back now, you were totally jealous.”

“I was not jealous!” He tries to be serious, but the knowing look on your face has him cracking. “Ok I was jealous.”

“When did you realize?” You question.

“That same night. I couldn’t understand why you flirting with that guy bothered me so much. Well I guess now we know.”

“Yeah cause you’re in loooveee with me.” You’re laughing as you speak, but he shuts you up with another kiss and leaves you pouting when he pulls away.

“Only kissed you twice and you’re already pouting when I pull away? I think you’re in loooveee with me.”

You lean back in, capturing his lips in yet another kiss and you’re like teenagers who’ve gotten into their first relationship.

Lando sighs when you stop kissing him, he can’t believe he could have had this sooner if he would have just opened his eyes. “You think you could get another week off from work?”

You’d do anything to get another week in a paradise with him, but you know it’s not possible. “Hmm, why don’t you just spend a week in London with me?”

“Well you haven’t even told them that you now have a famous F1 driver boyfriend. Who if they didn’t know already is very needy and needs to see his girlfriend.” He teases.

“Well you forgot to add that you’re my hot and famous F1 driver boyfriend.” You counter back.

You’re both grinning like fools at each other and as you curl up into his side and take in the last sunset you’ll see in the place that now holds such a special place in both of your hearts, you’re glad you let him convince you to come on this trip.

As the sun finally sets over the water you actually say those three little words.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fic #lando norris fluff #mine #writing

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growing-fire · 11 months ago

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Was talking to a friend about his love problems and he was like "she rejected me even thought she was kinda touchy feely with me". Too bad he kinda did the same with me when we first met looooool

#He didn't reject me #But the first night we met he told my friend he thought i was cute #The proceeded to flirt with me all night #He fucking fed me chicken 💀#Then the following days he acted like nothing happened #Then flirted again with me last year when he was back in Texas and me in Italy #Sam you know who i'm talking about #Not that i really care #I actually think it's funny #MA L'IPOCRISIA AMICI #Swag

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hannieehaee · 2 months ago

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IO CHE NON VIVO

18+ / mdi

summary: being abducted and dragged to italy in the middle of promotions was not something wonwoo could've ever expected, but idol life was very unpredictable after all. what had truly caught him off guard, however, was the girl he met whilst strolling the pretty sights at night, fully unaware of his title as idol or any of his hectic life, offering a breath of fresh air he could've never accounted for.

content: strangers2lovers!wonwoo, idol!wonwoo, meetcute<3, shy!wonwoo, reader is lovely and outgoing!!, no race specified but reader's nationality is italian, language barrier (but reader is said to understand and speak korean so its ok!!), long distance relationship, summer love vibes, love at first sight type of situation, takes place during nana tour but does not follow the actual chronology of real events in the show, afab reader, smut, sex dream(?), dry humping, leg riding, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 18.3k

a/n: i want to preface by saying i had no idea where to watch nana tour for free so i never watched it!! so this fic does not follow nana tour at all outside of the premise in which they were in italy for a few weeks!

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Wonwoo should've known.

The moment he saw that uncharacteristically free month in his schedule, he should've known that something was up. Neither Hybe nor Pledis would ever allow for Seventeen to have an entire month clear of any schedules. It'd be an immediate financial failure in their eyes.

As much as Wonwoo enjoyed the rapid life of an idol, he missed the days when he was a teenager and time could stand still for a few moments. It had been a long time since he'd had that luxury.

So when he cross checked his schedule with his groupmates and realized they were all equally free of idol duties for an extended period of time, he couldn't help but feel worried yet relieved. Could be possibly make plans during this free time? Maybe rest? Maybe simply enjoy the quiet and slowness of time as it passed without a worry for what was next?

His questions were answered pretty quickly.

As he rested in his room after a grueling week of back to back concerts in Japan, Wonwoo felt content in knowing that he'd get to head back to Korea and rest for a few days. He only had a few simple album-related shoots for the following days, and once those were done he'd be able to cash in on his free month. The company hadn't mentioned any change of plans, nor had they officially announced the meaning of this gap in schedules, so Wonwoo chose not to question it and simply bask in it.

Unfortunately for Wonwoo, life was never that simple.

As per usual, he was not even allowed that a full night of sleep before being bombarded by noise just outside his door. Assuming it was just his hyperactive members meaning to make another attempt at dragging him into their impromptu rap battle, he simply turned to his side whilst nuzzling under the covers, too comfortable to be bothered.

The next disturbance came in the form of one Boo Seungkwan hesitantly opening his door with a key he assumed came from his manager, sneaking into the room as he checked for signs of life.

Not fully awake, Wonwoo continued to ignore the situation, hoping that his lack of reaction for whatever was going on outside would lead his members to realize that he was checked out for the night — something quite usual for him after an extraneous concert.

After a few moments, Wonwoo was able to hear the descent of Seungkwan's steps, meaning he had likely left the room and that Wonwoo could now claim slumber to its fullest extent.

That was until an entire band of people marched into his room, carelessly turning on the light and rushing towards his lone form on the bed. Sitting up sleepily, he attempted to make sense of what was happening, unsure of why this many people had entered his room, and suddenly far too aware of his lack of clothing, pulling his blanket to cover him as much as possible.

Thanks to Boo Seungkwan, his glasses quickly found their way to his face and a shirt was thrown at him to put on while under the covers. It wasn't until then that Wonwoo realized that Na PD was one of the many people currently looking down at him as he laid in bed, camera man next to him.

"What is happening?", he murmured about one minute into the situation, barely awake enough to speak.

"We're getting abducted, be ready," spoke Mingyu with a laugh from the side of the room, looking far too excited and as if he had already been briefed on the situation.

The rest of the details were blurry, but the gist of the situation ended in only one verdict — Seventeen was now headed to Italy.

The free month should've been a dead giveaway, but Wonwoo had simply been far too busy with his usually hectic schedule to even make the connection. It had been a while since the deal to be taken away spontaneously had been made, so the whole thing had left his mind.

Despite his prior desire for some free time, the thought of finally stepping foot in Europe for the first time did bring a smile to his face. Mingyu had always told Wonwoo of his wish to go to Italy someday, which was usually echoed by Wonwoo himself. The chance to go with all his friends made him look forward to it all the more. All he needed was his camera and he'd be a happy man.

One lengthy flight later and Wonwoo found himself in Italy with a band of eleven friends (Seungcheol was sadly left behind) and even more staff members. The gist of the trip was that they'd be recorded simply exploring the beautiful city they'd landed in and playing the occasionally game for content on the show. It had been dubbed Nana Tour, even including personalized shirts for every member.

As per instructions by Na PD, they would get a lot of leisure time to use however they desired. Being a good friend of the group after a few prior meetings, Na PD had assured them that he wanted to grant them as much vacation time as possible whilst in Italy, not wanting to put too much pressure on the content-making aspect of the trip. As long as they were able to record a good six hours of content every week for the duration of their month-long stay, they'd have more than enough for a full successful season of the show.

So now Wonwoo was in Italy, a place he considered to be one of the most beautiful he had seen in his short life. The weather was comfortable, the sights amazing, the food delicious, and not to mention the freedom that came with being out and about on his own, worry-free of his responsibilities as an idol.

Surely he'd get recognized by Italian carats sooner or later, but within the few days he'd been here, always opting to go on a quiet outing at night, he had not been spotted as of yet. Maybe it was the fact he was so far from home and his location was unaccounted for by the media, or perhaps the nighttime making it difficult to recognize him, but he was currently experiencing an incognito lifestyle he had long bid adieu to.

Tonight, similarly to the previous three nights, he made the rounds in the small home Na PD'd staff had rented for Seventeen and excused himself for a nightly outing. At this hour, all activities expected for them had been wrapped up, giving them full freedom to spend their leisure time as they wished. Some other members opted to stay home, having already enjoyed outings during the day, whilst others went out in groups. Wonwoo was alone in the fact that he craved alone time at this hour, preferring to head out with no company other than his camera.

Camera in hand, Wonwoo made his way outside, always heading in a different direction than the previous night, seeing where fate would take him and taking pictures of any pretty sight on the way.

The night was chilly, illuminated by the yellow streetlights that had a tendency of brightening up the city as dawn fell. Maybe it was the change of scenery, but Wonwoo found himself in love with the atmosphere of the nightfall in Italy. Every sight was one to behold. It hadn't taken long for his love for photography to invade his every free moment in the beautiful city. Pictures overflowed his camera roll, all satisfying his artistic eye.

His nightly stroll lasted a good half an hour before he found himself near a shore, looking to the distance and finding nothing close enough to the end of the sea. It was too dark to tell what might be beyond, but the sight was still one Wonwoo quickly became hypnotized by. Surprisingly, the area was quite lonesome, with most people choosing to hang by the brighter areas nearby, housing themselves in restaurants or small shops that opened late into the night. He found himself alone with the ocean and a lone street light providing him with that yellow hue he came to find comfort in.

The comfortable loneliness did not last Wonwoo too long. A sudden presence practically materialized a few feet from him a few moments later, or maybe he'd just been too drawn by the sight to notice anyone approaching prior. He meekly turned his face to the side, unable to help wondering who was his new silent companion. Upon taking a cautious look, he found the silhouette of a girl. Wanting to avoid making her uncomfortable or being too obvious, Wonwoo looked forward almost immediately, now eyeing the view once more.

They stood like that, in comfortable silence, for a few long minutes. No words were exchanged despite the mutual knowledge of the other's presence, simply sharing a moment of solace together. It was unlike any other interaction he'd ever had with a stranger — or lack thereof, really.

He felt comfortable, uninterrupted in his peace despite the presence of a stranger. Wonwoo had never been good at strangers, specially not in foreign countries. He usually found himself being anxious and far too quiet for comfort, never one to pick up casual conversation even in his native language, much less in one he felt no confidence in. His on-stage persona was very different than that of his actual one. Carats were quite correct in assigning the black cat stereotype — quiet, untrusting, keeping to himself.

The silence halted with the sudden stutter of a camera, taking Wonwoo out of the trance he'd been in as he stared out to the water, making him turn to the left in a combination of fear and curiosity. His instant assumption had been that whoever the faceless girl was, she must've taken a picture of him, having recognized him. But as he turned to the side, he found her in a rather awkward position, crouched down and camera facing the sea as she found the best angle possible for her shot.

He chuckled breathlessly to himself, a bit embarrassed that he'd made such an assumption of an unsuspecting stranger who likely had no idea who he was. Where did that big head come from, Wonwoo?, he thought to himself. This girl knows nothing of who you are, most people here seem to be the same, he should be happy.

It was then that he finally made sense of your appearance, as you crouched towards the edge of the shore and gave him a better look of you under the streetlight nearby. He couldn't see your face very well as you continued to face away from him, but he had a good enough view to catch the slope of your nose, the color of your hair, the shape of your body, all distinctive features he could appreciate under the melancholic lighting.

Wonwoo wasn't really one to care much for appearances. Beautiful people came in all forms, but he was one to truly find beauty in a person through other means, usually enjoying the physical aspects of a person's being only after getting to know the emotional ones. There seemed to be some exceptions to the rule, however, as Wonwoo came to find when you got up to your full height, making your way back to your original spot but incidentally locking eyes with him as he eyed you curiously. Your eyes drew him in immediately, finding you beautiful upon a single look.

As embarrassed as he was at getting caught staring at you, his mind was eased when you offered a friendly smile, taking his smile in return as a welcome to stand closer than you'd been before. Wordlessly, you made your way to his side, eyeing the small disposable camera he had hanging from his neck.

"Photographer, or is it just a hobby?", you asked in a language Wonwoo recognized to be Italian. Prior to this trip he probably wouldn't have known the language, but it was easy to tell it apart after a few days of being surrounded by it.

Sadly, his short stay in Italy had not educated him enough in the language to even be able to pretend he understood you.

"I don't know Italian, sorry," he responded apologetically in English, hoping it was as much of a universal language as school had taught him.

"English, then?", you now responded in English, accent as perfect as it had been when you'd spoken Italian. It didn't surprise Wonwoo to meet an English speaker, but he still couldn't help but feel impressed at what seemed to be your knowledge of a second language.

He smiled awkwardly, eyes not meeting yours completely, "Not much, sorry," he rasped with an awkward chuckle, feeling dumb for misleading you by speaking English.

"Hmm," you mulled for a second, eyeing him in a way that made him a little shy, "Korean?" you asked with a tilt of your head.

His mouth morphed into an o shape, nodding surprised, "How did you know?", he asked in English, sure you likely didn't speak Korean.

"There's Korean writing on your shirt," you pointed out with a smile, giggling when realization hit his face and drawing a similar laugh from him, "What brings you to Italy?", you asked, continuing to make brief conversation.

Wonwoo needed to take a short moment to think of how to respond. He'd done many fancalls in English, having to rely on his limited knowledge of the language and the quick assistance of English-speaking staff, but he always avoided these situations when he was on his own. This was a conversation he was interested in pursuing, however. You interested him, not to mention that he found you quite beautiful.

"I'm sorry, it's unfair of me to expect you to answer in English. I understand a bit of Korean, if that helps?", you interrupted his thoughts, pure kindness in your voice.

His eyebrows raised, surprised at your statement. He couldn't help but question you for confirmation, this time in Korean, "Really?"

Your giggle invaded his ears again, causing his eyes to crinkle with a shy smile to match, "Yeah, I studied abroad in Korea when I was a teenager. It's not perfect, but I can understand some," you elaborated, "Am I putting my foot in my mouth by speaking so much? Can you understand me, or should I try my broken Korean?", you continued. A kind and sympathetic smile remained glued to your face every time you spoke, making Wonwoo feel at ease and more relaxed than he ever had with a stranger.

"Yes, I understand," he explained in English, wanting to make things easier for you and with a slight fear of scaring you away if he made the language barrier too blatant, "I have an, uh, American friend. He teaches me," he added, thinking back to his two friends who usually took place of unofficial translators whenever he needed them.

"Okay, that's good. Don't feel shy if you need to speak Korean," you reassured, arms crossing due to the sudden chill of the night reaching you — blame your proximity to the water, "We can work through the language barrier."

"How long were you in Korea?", he asked in Korean, testing out if you'd meant it.

"Three years," you responded, "It's kind of embarrassing how little I learned in such a long time," you laughed at yourself, beginning to rub up and down your bare arms, huffing out a hot breath in the nighttime's chilly temperature.

His focus went to your outfit, noting you were wearing a sundress with sandals, probably not the most optimal outfit for a chilly night out in the town. Before he could stop himself, unexpected words began to leave his mouth, his actions matching his words as he set down his camera bag and shrugged off his hoodie, "Here, take my hoodie," he mumbled in Korean, handing you the sweater without a second thought.

Eyes widening, you shook your head adamantly, "Oh, no, that's fine, I swear," you began, only to for him to push the hoodie onto your arms, silently insisting, "Okay, thank you. But now you'll be cold," you pouted, giving Wonwoo thankful eyes that had his heart warming.

Coughing to mask his reaction, he cleared his throat, "It's fine, don't worry about it. You looked colder than me," he did his signature awkward chuckle again, earning a mirrored reaction from you.

"A gentleman, huh?", you grinned, sharing a brief moment of quiet as he smiled back at you, readjusting his thick-rimmed glasses as he took in the sight of you being swallowed by a sweater that was already oversized over his wide frame, "So, to go back to my original question: Are you a photographer, or is it a hobby?", you gestured to the disposable camera, seemingly not taking notice of the larger camera bag laying on the floor next to him.

It was clear to Wonwoo by now that you had no knowledge of who he was. This sometimes happened when he went overseas and decided to head out on his own. The lack of other members and of a manager accompanying him usually allowed him to go out unrecognized any time he left Asia. However, those instances were far too few, leaving him slightly surprised at someone your age being unaware of his role as an idol in one of the most popular K-pop groups — not that he wanted to needlessly sing his own praises or anything.

Should he tell you? Or would that be too odd? It wasn't as if he knew who you were or what your profession was. This was just a casual conversation, after all. Wonwoo needed to get out of his head and relax. Pretty girls spoke to him almost every other day, with many of them being dedicated fans who adored him for everything that he was, so why did he feel like he needed to go an extra mile to merely interact with you? You liked him well enough and seemed to not care much who or what he was, simply enjoying the calm company he brought, he needed to-

"Maybe I should've introduced myself before intruding on your time alone, sorry," you chuckled to yourself as you thankfully interrupted his thoughts once more. Your hand went out of the sleeve of his large hoodie, presenting itself to him, "My name is Y/N," you smiled, grin growing wider when he returned your handshake and grasped your hand in his larger one. Yours was cold while his was warm, creating the perfect shared temperature.

A quiet few seconds went by as he pondered whether or not he should give you a false name, but the need for a normal interaction won him over quickly.

"Wonwoo. Nice to meet you," he spoke in English this time around, enjoying the way your eyes crinkled any time he spoke in the language, "It's a hobby, by the way. Sorry, I'm not exactly known to be the best conversationalist," he excused himself for his previous silence, now sticking to Korean.

Your contagious giggle invaded Wonwoo's ears again, making him silently hum to himself in satisfaction. Wonwoo's night had evolved from a pretty scenery and even prettier company, Italy was turning out to be even better than he thought.

"Any way I can see your pictures?", you bit your lip, eyebrows raised in question, "I do some photography on the side, so it could be like an exchange, y'know? I show you mine if you show me yours," you gambled, taking baby steps towards him to bump your shoulder against his in a friendly manner.

"You're a photographer?", he asked, genuinely interested in hearing more. Photography was one of his greatest passions, the mere subject turned his shyness upside down without failure.

"Yeah!", you responded excitedly, lifting up the small camera that was hanging from the camera bag on your shoulder bag, "Wanna see?," you leaned to his side, holding the camera under both your gazes as he leaned into your personal space to see. You didn't mind this, fortunately, even making an effort to get closer to provide him a better view, "I took these while you were here, as you can probably tell," you explained as you showed him the pictures he'd seen you take. Somehow the beautiful scenery looked even more eye-catching through your lenses. Your artistic eye made it easy for Wonwoo to appreciate your talent, which you demonstrated through every pic you showed him in your camera roll. They were raw and still unedited, but he could tell this was a talent of yours. A nice sight was always easy to find, but capturing it to perfection took skill, this was something Wonwoo knew all too well, yet every photo you went through showed him your innate talent.

"Do you like them? You're pretty quiet," you chuckled, looking up over your shoulder and causing Wonwoo to realize just how close he'd been leaning. Flustered, he took a step aside, allowing you some breathing room as he looked down to his feet to gather himself for a moment.

"Yeah, they're amazing," he started in English, switching to Korean to further express his praises. During his commentary of your photography, he even went as far as to ask for your camera so could look at them once more, asking you questions about every scenery, every subject, unable to help himself in wanting to know more about your creative process.

As friendly as you'd been from the moment you first spoke to him, you took the praise with modesty, excitedly answering every question and even inquiring for his opinions, curious about his own photography despite his praise. Eventually, he gave back your camera upon vast insistence from you to take a look at his own photos, smiling widely when he pulled out his larger camera from his bag, sheepish as he showed you his pictures and blushing a bit at any and every compliment that left your mouth — and they seemed quite endless to Wonwoo. Occasionally, you'd even let out a few basic compliments such as 'so pretty!!' or 'that's beautiful' in Korean, making Wonwoo's eyes wrinkle at the smile invading his face.

The photography conversation eventually ended, both cameras making their way back to their bags and the two of you somehow finding yourselves on a little walk. Side by side, you took slow steps as you conversed and shared words in your respective language. It wasn't a full on conversation, but the small talk was still comfortable enough for Wonwoo to not want it to end.

"What brings you to Italy?", you asked once you made it closer to Wonwoo's final destination. He slapped himself mentally for not heading a different way when you suggested a walk, not wanting to make it back so quickly.

For a few moments, he pondered on an answer. You were a stranger he was likely to never see again, so lying to you about his presence in Italy probably wouldn't have any repercussions, but he also wanted to be honest. In the end, he opted for a mixture of truth and a lie.

"I'm on break with some friends", he responded, mirroring the question to you, "How about you? Are you from around?"

You nodded, arms folded due to the continuous chill surrounding you despite being cocooned in Wonwoo's sweater, "Yeah, I grew up a few cities north from here. I just moved nearby with a friend," you informed him, "So, does that mean you're leaving soon?"

Taking in a breath, he nodded, frowning without realizing, "I really like it here, but I'm only here for three more weeks," he replied, chuckling at the pout you gave him at his response.

"That sucks. It's rare to meet interesting tourists around here," you said, frowning at him as he mirrored your frown.

As you continued to walk and talk, Wonwoo couldn't help but feel intrigued by you and every bit of information about yourself you shared. Some may even call what he felt to be interest — you were pretty, talented, smart, nice, and these were traits he picked up on only within an hour of knowing you. The intrigue to continue to get to know you began to itch at him.

The fleeing thought of a crush crossed Wonwoo's mind, but he tossed it aside immediately, believing it to be childish and improbable. Wonwoo was 27, for God's sakes, the last time he'd had a crush had been when he was 16 years old. There was no time for crushes in his profession, much less during what would likely be the only vacation he'd get in the following ten years.

Eventually, you made it all the way to the street where Wonwoo's rented house was located, steps growing slower by the second as you approached the location. It'd be obvious to any spectator that neither of you wanted to end the conversation, but it had been a few hours since he'd first headed out, and he knew he had a schedule to attend to in the morning, so he opted to not make himself late the following day.

"Well," you started, stopping and facing him, "If for any reason you get bored during your stay, maybe you'll stop by the coast again? You know, only if you get bored," you rambled, biting your lip as you looked up at him expectantly.

With a laugh, he nodded, squinting his eyes in humorously, "I'll get bored again, don't worry," he reassured, wanting to be direct in letting you know he wanted to see you again.

You grinned widely, making him feel no option but to return your smile. A shock came over him when you suddenly offered him a hug, wrapping your arms around his middle as he let himself envelop you by your waist. The fit of your body against his own felt perfect, but sadly he was unable to really experience it due to the friendly nature of the hug, ending as soon as it began.

"Oh!", you suddenly exclaimed, "Your hoodie, let me-" you went to remove it, only to be stopped by Wonwoo.

"Keep it. I think I might get bored again tomorrow. You can give it back then," he suggested, surprising himself at being so forward.

With another grin, you nodded, offering him a shy smile and a wave of your hand, turning to leave as he stayed there, dumbfounded at the sudden shift his night had as soon as you took notice of him.

Standing there in silence, Wonwoo smiled at himself, feeling butterflies he had only ever seen people experience in the cheesy K-dramas Soonyoung and Dokyeom insisted on watching at the dorms during their earlier years. It was also a feeling reminiscent of the lyrics Jihoon was endlessly praised for by carats. Suddenly he understood it all, having never felt so giddy so soon at a mere interaction. Maybe this had been a meeting of fate. Only time would tell. As of now, Wonwoo found himself looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, and maybe then again and again after that.

Unfortunately for Wonwoo, the following day his mind was taken up entirely by the sudden insecure belief that he would never see you again. His mind went directly to thinking that you might've looked him up as soon as you went home, or that you'd disliked his shy and off-putting personality. What if you had simply been humoring him, only engaging in conversation because he had been in your way? Or maybe you didn't appreciate how easily he'd given up on speaking English, sticking to Korean while you spoke to him in your second language? He couldn't help but reprimand himself for not encouraging you to speak however you were most comfortable or for not bothering to ask you questions of his own.

Thinking back to it, the entire time you spent together was taken up by you trying to get him to open up and by asking him questions in order to keep the conversation going. Although Wonwoo had gone home that day with a warm heart and comfort in your interaction, he couldn't help feeling insecure the following day, worried that he'd go back to that same spot and find it empty, with you nowhere to be found.

As a seasoned idol, he had been able to hold back any apprehension he felt while camera, but he was sure his friends were able to tell he was off that day. Fortunately, his members knew him well enough to let him grovel on his own, simply engaging with him whenever he seemed to be in the mood.

The entire day went by in decades, or at least that's how it felt to Wonwoo. It felt kind of pathetic how much he was looking forward to seeing you, but it was also exhilarating (whilst still very anxiety inducing). Wonwoo hadn't realized what a rollercoaster of emotions a crush could become, especially so rapidly.

Unlike previous days, tonight Wonwoo left the rented home as soon as possible, rushing to find the empty street by the coast that he'd been frequenting since his arrival. For a moment he wondered if you'd seen him there beforehand or if that had coincidentally been your first time walking by there. He knew that if you had arrived there before him, he would've walked the other way, assuming he'd be disrupting your peace. Relief cruised through him knowing you hadn't felt the same way and chose to make conversation with him instead.

Now he stood there alone, earlier than the day prior as he hoped for your prompt arrival, if at all. Once there, he felt dumb at having so many doubts and building ten different scenarios in his head. A desire to be more casual about things like this cruised through his mind, but any further thought was interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

Turning around towards the noise, Wonwoo found you standing there, a large grin on your face as his hoodie swallowed you whole once more. You waved at him from the small distance away, lifting your arm high and swinging your wrist enthusiastically. Wonwoo returned a shier version of your gesture, waving shyly at you with a small smile on his face.

"Wonwoo!", you smiled happily, practically skipping to his side, "I didn't think you'd show," you laughed, "Thought maybe I talked too much last time and scared you off."

He smiled at this, thinking of his own dumb concerns about seeing you again and noting how dumb he'd been to think someone as nice as you would ghost him (and steal his hoodie in the process), "Of course not," he responded in English, hoping to hype himself up enough to speak a little more today than he had last time.

"Let me give you your hoodie," you said as you went to take it off, only to be stopped by Wonwoo just like last time, shaking his head and lifting his hands to prevent you from even removing it.

"Keep it. It's still cold today," he reasoned, truly just liking the way you had something of his and how largely it fit you (though it was also large on himself).

You eyed him curiously but with a smile, putting the arm you'd taken out of the hoodie back in it to upon his request, "You know, tourists usually get pickpocketed around here, but I don't think you need to worry about that, giving your stuff away for free and all," you joked, earning a chuckle and a matching eye smile from him.

"I don't mind it," he responded softly, "Think of it as a thank you for walking me around yesterday," he added, pondering as to how direct he should be about his interest in continuing to see you past the last two days.

"Ah," you said, "An exchange of goods and services, then?", you asked, beginning to walk in a different direction from last time, nodding at him to follow you, something which he embarrassingly did with an unnecessary urgency. Your giggles in response to his rush to follow you made it worth it.

"Sorry if I'm taking up your time," he apologized, realizing that you might've come meet him only due to the hoodie, somehow attempting to read past every other positive signal you'd given him so far.

"No! You're not, at all," you were quick to clarify, "I would've come back here to see if you came back anyways," you continued to admit sheepishly, "Plus, you need a local to show you around, don't you? And here I am, offering my services for free."

Somehow you were able to swerve around every ounce of self doubt that'd spring out of Wonwoo unexpectedly. Interacting with you made him feel weirdly needy, like he had to make it up to some sort of higher power for being able to have you pay him any mind. The lack of unpunished social interaction with a pretty girl had been so lacking in Wonwoo's life that he had no idea how to act around you. Sure, he was around pretty backup dancers and idols alike for a majority of the time, but the presence of cameras was always there, along with the controversy behind any interaction constantly present. Plus, his status as one of the most popular members of one of the top K-pop groups in the industry made it hard for him to ever find true friendship — or more, which was completely out of the picture for him.

For lack of a better term, you were a breath of fresh air for him, something which made him anxious. He knew this was just a summer crush, but he had every intention of enjoying it as much as he could.

Soon after your encounter, you'd dragged Wonwoo along with you to a few different places. It was nighttime, so not every suggestion of yours worked out perfectly. Within those two hours spent together, you'd shown Wonwoo a few cafe's you claimed your favorites (though sadly they were closed at that time), a pier nearby, and had taken him to a touristy area with street food. Thankfully, you'd done all the talking, also insisting on treating him to some traditional Italian street food.

Now with a full belly and a happy mind, Wonwoo walked side by side with you as he ate the ice cream you'd insisted on buying him. He felt like a sad excuse of a gentleman, but Na PD had taken all their money, which meant he was unable to fight you over who'd pay for any snacks tonight.

"So, how's the Italy experience so far?", you asked, shoulder bumping into his in a lighthearted manner.

He smiled sheepishly at you, "It's been nice. It's nice to have a change of pace and relax. Work's been, uh, very hectic these past months," he scratched the back of his neck, not sure how to open up without giving himself up.

"Oooh, that sounds interesting. What do you do? You give me a corporate vibe. Or maybe a streamer? Okay, those are complete opposites. Am I far off?", you asked, a joking tone in your voice.

He chuckled awkwardly, body language likely showing his discomfort. It's not that he wanted to lie to you, but he didn't want his profession to get in the way of whatever was happening between the two of you. In his years of being an idol, he noticed a drastic change in treatment before and after becoming successful. Even on the rare occasion in which someone was unaware of his status, their behavior would immediately change upon revealing his profession — whether this was a conscious or subconscious reaction, he wasn't sure.

These were the reasons why Wonwoo decided to do something he usually stood against.

He lied.

"I work in an entertainment company. Nothing too exciting. It just gets busy every so often," he replied as nonchalantly as possible, "How about you?"

He didn't feel good about lying, but in the grand scheme of things, he guessed it didn't really matter. In just a few weeks, he'd never see you again. Hell, maybe even today would be the last day to see you-

"Wow, really? That sounds fun," you interrupted his thoughts, "I'm a photographer, like I said yesterday. But for the most part I work at a museum nearby. Maybe you'd like to stop by one of these days? In the daytime, of course," you giggled.

Or maybe he'd be seeing you again a few days from now. Yeah, that worked perfectly well for him.

"R-really?", he couldn't help but smile, "I'd love to. When? I, uh, I might have plans with my friends, but I can make time whenever you're free."

"Maybe you should give me your number?", you smiled back, "That way we can come up with a time. It's getting late, I don't want to keep you."

Oh, right.

Pulling out his phone, he noticed it had suddenly turned into 12:16AM. Shit, had he really been walking around the villa with you for four hours?

"Shit, yeah, you're totally right. Let me walk you home? It's really late, I'd feel terrible just leaving you on your own."

Handing you his phone, you entered your number, texting yourself before handing it back with a smile.

"Can't say no to that. Come, it's this way," you grabbed onto his jacket-covered arm, making him stumble for a moment before clearing his throat and straightening his back, attempting to appear entirely unaffected

He was not expecting any sort of physical contact, but he couldn't lie in admitting he liked your arm wrapped around his own. This was platonic enough for him to justify it in his head — though the increased speed of his heartbeat was nothing but platonic.

After walking you back to your place (and forcing himself to deny your invitation inside with a mental slap to himself), he headed back to the villa in which he and his groupmates were situated. The pleased smile wouldn't leave his face, it was kind of embarrassing.

During your very extended goodbye (and a sly smile from you as you attempted to lure him inside), you'd convinced him to meet with you a week later, this time in the morning so you could show him around your workplace and maybe a few other places you thought he'd like. (In the meantime, he made sure he could still meet you nightly, of course). You'd called it a date, making Wonwoo have to bite back an excited smile. He knew the word 'date' in English didn't necessarily mean a romantic outing, but the thought still managed to excite him.

Managing to avoid bumping into any staff or members as he went to bed, he laid down to sleep. This proved kind of useless for the first few hours, however, as he continued to think about you as the night progressed.

He felt beyond silly. That was the best word he could use to describe this feeling. He felt overly excited at the mere thought of seeing you again tomorrow and the day after, and the day after, and the day aft- well, every day he could manage until you got bored of him.

It was difficult to not let his mind wander to the end of his trip. To the day in which he'd have to pack his bags and never see you again. But he wanted to enjoy his harmless crush as much as he could. Who knows, maybe one day Seventeen would land in Italy during on of their tours, and maybe then Wonwoo could drop by your door. Would you be angry if he suddenly popped up again two years from now with the confession of his true identity?

That brought up an entirely different set of questions. Would you swoon at his career? Would you tell him to fuck off for lying? Or maybe you'd just hate celebrities, you did seem like the type of person to keep to yourself. But! He was too! He just had to share certain parts of his life due to his career. Fuck. Would this even work? Was he just giving himself the false illusion of pursuing something with you.

God, he was getting far too ahead of himself. He'd known you for a total of eight hours, give or take, yet he was already wondering how a relationship could possibly work out. He didn't even have any reason to believe you liked him back.

A few hours were spent like this, with a constant back and forth in Wonwoo's brain, overthinking issues that were entirely nonexistent. When slumber finally took him, he was happy to awaken the following day to renewed (and thankfully much less erratic) thoughts of you.

"So he asked for permission to cheat and still lost?", you laughed, hand covering the pretty smile Wonwoo had grown to adore these past days.

Maybe one day he'd grow the balls to tell you just how much he liked it, maybe inspire you into letting him see it to its fullest extent at all times.

For now, all he could do was laugh along with you and mentally high-five himself for being the cause of that smile in this moment.

"This was Seungkwan, right? The super extroverted one?", you asked once your laughter subsided.

Ah, yes.

Within the twelve times in which Wonwoo had met up with you, he'd managed to practically give you his entire life story, tales about his members included. He'd left out the grand part in which he was a in a worldwide famous K-Pop group, but everything else had been entirely truthful.

Each night spent together ran for four to five hours, giving him ample time to fill you in on his life while you did the same in return. The language barrier was practically nonexistent all throughout, with him continuing to speak Korean and the occasional sentence in English and you doing the reverse.

Your conversations sometimes had him wanting to take on English as a full-time hobby, as he occasionally missed a word or two, but you were always so understanding and never minded slowing down or rewording yourself. He, on the other hand, was lucky enough that you never seemed to have trouble in understanding him. It made him feel bad sometimes, as if you had to put all the effort into your talks, but you'd reassured him immediately after he'd voiced this concern to you.

With just a little over a week of knowing you, Wonwoo was now entirely sure — he had feelings for you.

Was it too far fetched to confirm such a thing with less than two weeks of knowing a person? Maybe. But Wonwoo just adored everything about you. You were nice, funny, understanding, you shared a lot of his hobbies and beliefs, and god, were you gorgeous.

Sure, he would not call himself in love, but he knew that if he had unlimited access to you, he'd surely fall as deep as a man can.

With these past meetings, it had been somewhat established that you'd keep contact after his departure. It was a casual agreement (though entirely giddy for Wonwoo). These past few days had already been spent with constant texting throughout the daytime, which made Wonwoo excited in advance.

Tomorrow was the day in which you'd finally have a daytime date together, a short tour at the museum you worked at. After having to reschedule with you a few times, — coming up with lame excuses as to why he was busy without revealing his true profession — you had finally settled for tomorrow. The producers of the show had granted all the members three free days without any single ounce of recording. The first had been wasted before he'd met you, with this being the second one, and the third one likely to be used on you once again.

It had been difficult to ward off his members when a few of them had attempted to make plans with him for the day without bringing to light what had been keeping him so busy night after night, but he had somehow managed. Plus, he was pretty sure a few of them had some sort of idea as to why he was so occupied as of late, but since none of them had directly questioned him, he continued to enjoy you in private.

"So, am I ever meeting these friends? They're the ones you're on vacation with, right?", you asked after the laughed had died down a bit.

Wonwoo scratched the back of his neck, arm instinctively pulling you closer to him — yeah, the physical contact had gotten even more personal through the passing of days, something which absolutely did not make his heart race like crazy. Your arms wrapped tighter around his own arm, aiding in pulling yourself closer.

"They're, uh, busy, but I'd love that! I think you'd get along really well."

And it was true! They were busy. And he did believe you'd fit right in. But it was just too much of a risk right now. He didn't want his secret airing itself out so soon. Maybe it'd be easier to tell you about it all when he was back in Korea, when there was no risk of you telling him to fuck off right to his face.

"God, I can't believe you have to work even on vacation," you pouted, "Your job sucks!"

Well, he wouldn't say sucks, but he got exactly where you were coming from, with the lack of context about what his job was and all.

"It's fine. It still gives me time to hang out with you," he smiled.

You returned his smile, snuggling closer to his arm as you walked side by side, much to his heart's chagrin. As you approached your place, your hands became more and more curious, occasionally traveling down to his own and gracing your fingers through those of his. You never actually intertwined them, but the playful touch still had his heart fluttering.

In these past nights of knowing you, he'd come to find that you were, in fact, single. This piece of information should not have excited him as much as it did, but it couldn't help but alter his perception of your interactions. It was easier to interpret some of your words, your touches, as flirtatious.

Wonwoo was used to touchiness from his members, but the tentative and playful contact you'd have with him was entirely different from what he was used to. It was far too reminiscent of every shy more-than-friends-but-not-yet-lovers stage he'd had with girls in the past. The fleeting looks, the multiple attempts you'd had at inviting him into your home without any blindly veiled excuse for coffee, the constant proximity, the smiles, the wandering eyes, it was all indicative to attraction.

That, or Wonwoo could officially declare himself as socially inept as they come.

Arriving at the front door of the small home you'd been residing in with some friends was always the worst part of your nightly outings. After the first few times in which he walked you home, you had developed a habit of refusing to let go of his arm. You'd lean against the door frame leading into your home, giving him a look and intertwining your fingers with his own as you silently attempted to pull him inside. You'd sometimes even go as far as asking if he'd like to continue the night, that you didn't want to wait another 24 hours to see him (which absolutely killed him).

You'd never said nor implied anything explicit, nor did Wonwoo genuinely think you were meaning to incite anything further than maybe a more intimate conversation in a more private setting, but he couldn't help if his mind just went there. He wanted to imagine a future in which he'd be able to go into your home for that motive, but the mere thought made him blush. He wasn't the type to have sex so casually, but he felt he'd connected with you emotionally so seamlessly in such little time that he could do so physically with a similar ease.

Tonight you went along with your usual routine. You walked all the way to your front door, with Wonwoo halting a few steps prior but letting you drag his arm in your direction. Turning around, you leaned against the frame and smiled at him, fingers reaching his own and toying with them a bit.

"What can I do to convince you to come up?", you asked, tilting your head to the side and biting your lip.

You'd both shared some wine tonight. Neither of you were drunk, but loose enough to relax your tongues. It wasn't surprising to Wonwoo when you asked him so directly. However, it still made heat rush to his cheeks.

Specially so when you took a step forward, letting go of his hand in favor of wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, incidentally making him lean down a bit. Your smile didn't leave your lips, appearing entirely too pleased with the situation.

Wonwoo gulped, hands naturally reaching down to your waist and sighing internally when he felt the contour of your body. He had to restrain from letting his fingers squeeze at the bare skin that laid between your shorts and your top. It was the smallest sliver, but his hands ached to reach up and uncover just it a little more.

"I promise to be on my best behavior," you spoke up again, biting your lip through the ever so present smile on your face.

Wonwoo knew he couldn't go in there with you. He knew that both you and him would convince yourselves of doing more than innocent things with each other under the excuse that his departure was approaching. It wasn't as if he didn't want you. He did. This was the fastest and easiest he'd found himself craving someone.

The issue was that he could not risk marring your current relationship with sex. It felt dirty to think of fucking you and then flying off to another country just over a week later. No, he needed to know things could go a long way before taking that step. He liked you too much to trick you into thinking this could be like any other long distance affair.

But under all these complex emotions, Wonwoo was nothing more than a man. His need to be close to you could only be held back so much.

Burying his face in your neck, he closed his eyes and sighed, breathing you in. His hands wrapped all the way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. Your own hands went to his hair, running through it and aiding in pressing him into your neck. Shyly, his lips traced the skin of your neck, sighing at the scent of your perfume.

It started with feather-light kisses pressed intermittently to your skin, but quickly evolved to hotter, denser ones. He hummed into your skin, almost moaning at how your back arched right under his palms, neck tilting aside so he could kiss you more.

"You know I want you," he breathed, "I don't even have to say it, it's embarrassingly obvious. Just, fuck, I can't ... Not if I have to leave you right after."

You separated yourself from him just enough to look up at him, offering him a close-lipped and shy smile.

"Can I get a kiss, at least?", you murmured with your eyes glued to his lips.

He didn't have to answer, already closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours.

As much as he would've wanted to keep it chaste and PG, his mammalian instincts took over without a warning. His mouth opened, tongue peeking out to seek your own. A single moan from you was enough for the kiss to grow heated.

It was borderline perverse the way in which Wonwoo kissed you, and he was well aware. There was spit, knocking of teeth, groans swallowed by one another (and maybe some hardness forming in Wonwoo's pants). Luckily for you both, no spectators were present late into the night in your small neighborhood, or else they would've been privy to you practically fucking each other's mouths with your tongues.

Wonwoo had to hold back from pushing you up against the nearest wall and humping you until finding completion inside his pants. More so did he have to hold back when you finally pulled away for air and gave him those eyes that he knew were begging from him to come upstairs with you.

With one last, but this time chaste, kiss, he wished you goodnight, chuckling at your petulant pout. Your antics lasted mere moments before you hugged him goodbye, letting him know about your excitement to see him tomorrow morning for your first daytime date.

He went back to his villa that day with an irremovable smile stuck on his face (and some slight discomfort in his pants).

Arriving at the villa, Wonwoo was immediately met with Mingyu and Dokyeom drinking together as they sat on a recliner located in the patio. Wonwoo had initially hoped to pass through the patio and onto his room without being perceived, but unfortunately both boys had been hyperaware to his presence as soon as be stepped foot in the premises.

Calling out to him with what Wonwoo was sure was tipsiness bordering on drunkness, he winced at their gestures for him to join them, groaning inwardly before walking up to them.

It wasn't as if Wonwoo didn't want to hang out with his friends, but he had already drank a bit prior to arriving home and did not want any encouragement in continuing — especially knowing he had to record for the show early the next morning.

"Where're you coming from so smiley?", teased Seokmin, pulling at Wonwoo's arm with a joking flirtatious smile.

"Disappearing alone at night for extended hours ... Are we going to need to draw up an NDA for you?", added Mingyu, canines bared due to his teasing smile.

"Shut up," he grumbled, swatting Seokmin's hand away from him in fake anger, but unable to completely hide the grin he'd had on his face since seeing you.

"Oh! Did you see that?", Seokmin gasped, slapping Mingyu's chest to get his attention, only earning a groan from the man at the sudden impact, "He's smiling! It's true! You were with a girl!"

"That much was obvious," added Mingyu, "The real question is who is it?"

With both boys facing him with expectant looks on their faces, Wonwoo had no option but to groan.

"We're going to drop this, actually. And we're all going to go to sleep since we have to record tomorrow morning," he declared, dragging both boys by their arms in encouragement to stand up.

Groaning in unison, the two large men allowed Wonwoo to push them in the direction of the entrance with him following close behind. He needed tomorrow's recording to go by quickly in order to run straight over to you.

After battling with a few other members who teased him over the pleased look on his face (was he that obvious?), he finally headed to bed. As per usual, you were in his thoughts, but some anxiety now joined in in the mixture of emotions he usually felt after a nightly outing with you.

It was hard not to feel nervous for what he interpreted to be your first date. Except that no such thing was ever confirmed by either of you. As far as he was aware, tomorrow was just you showing a lonely foreigner around one of the many popular sights in the city.

No part of Wonwoo believed you'd lead him on on purpose, but deep inside him he felt that he might've made everything up in his head. There was no way you'd kiss him like that if you didn't feel something for him, right? Or well, he had been the one to initiate that kiss (one that was uncharacteristically nasty, but insanely hot). Had he gone too far? Fuck, maybe sticking his tongue in your mouth had been too much ...

His mind was going a mile a minute.

He decided to chalk these thoughts up to be the usual insecurities he felt late into the night. Everyone knew that late night thoughts were always misleading, and so he hoped this was one of those cases.

The following morning, Wonwoo spent in a constant state of anxiety.

Not only was he nervous to see you right after your first kiss (a rather nasty one at that), but he kept panicking that the recording would run too long and he would miss you altogether. On top of that, he had the usual first date nerves. He kept debating on what to wear (not that he had ample options considering he was not allowed to pack before getting kidnapped), what to bring you, whether he should take you elsewhere after the tour of the museum.

But luckily for Wonwoo, most of his worries died down one by one.

As it usually happened, the recording ended right at the expected time, leaving Wonwoo with more than enough time to choose an outfit and do his hair just right — he even had time for a quick stop to get you some flowers.

Your reaction to last night's kiss had also not been as terrible as he expected. On the contrary, you welcomed him with a sweet peck on his lips, wrapping your arms around his own as you liked to do before thanking him for the flowers.

Your first 'date' also went amazingly. The tour of your workplace had been fun and filled with expert information you'd memorized to the letter as the usual tour guide at the establishment. After the quick tour, you had even insisted you and Wonwoo take a walk to a nearby street food vendor so you could extend your time together.

All in all, the evening went incredibly well. Well enough that Wonwoo didn't think to worry about what was different about tonight's outing, which was the daytime aspect of it all.

Completely unsuspecting, the last thing Wonwoo would've expected was to bump into any of his members while he enjoyed a shared smoothie with you.

Far too content in your company, he took no notice of the three nosy men watching him from a distance, stopping in their tracks and discretely pointing at him while they whispered scandalously at one another.

Their whispers in Korean were loud enough to catch his attention, making him look their way while you were distracted looking at pretty items set out by street vendors. Looking in their direction, Wonwoo's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he began to mouth expletives at them, scolding at them to leave him alone.

The three boys at hand, Jeonghan, Joshua and Seungkwan, just so happened to be some of the nosiest men he'd ever met, meaning that be already knew how this interaction would end.

With smirks in their faces, they headed over to him, eyeing you before throwing secret smiles and winks at Wonwoo.

"Wonwoo! Long time no see!," began Joshua, his voice calling your attention and causing you to join Wonwoo in facing them.

"Who's the pretty girl?", asked Seungkwan in Korean before stretching his hand out to you and introducing himself in English.

You introduced yourself back with a bright smile, "You can speak Korean, I understand," you added afterwards, causing eyebrows to lift.

"Pretty and smart. You pick them well, Nonu," joined Jeonghan, offering you a handshake of his own along with an introduction.

Wonwoo, annoyed at his friends, cleared his throat, "These are the friends I was telling you about. The ones I'm on vacation with," he made sure to enunciate the correct words, attempting to give his friends a hint of what he'd told you about their situation.

"Oh, yeah! I remember their names. You guys work with Wonwoo at the entertainment company, right?," you inadvertently finished the thought for them.

They all caught on pretty quick, nodding along while they forced smiles from their faces at Wonwoo's omission of the truth.

To be fair, with only five days left in Italy, Wonwoo had done very well in concealing such a huge aspect of his life. He was surprised he'd managed to go along with it for this long.

"That's us," replied Joshua, "But he's told us nothing about you. How'd you two meet?", there was a teasing tone in his voice, one that was so subtle only Wonwoo and his friends could take note of it.

You explained your first meeting, elbowing Wonwoo halfheartedly for keeping you a secret from his friends. Wonwoo joined in to add some details of your dynamic, but neither of you ever stated a label to describe you.

Unfortunately for Wonwoo, your outing was completely taken over by the three men, leaving him as a side character to your encounter. You took a lot of interest to his friends, which was the only silver lining of it all, Wonwoo supposed. He was happy to see how well you got along, but was also frustrated that some of his last moments with you were being used up by someone else.

When they finally left you alone (after a lot of subtle insistence from Wonwoo), the two of you were finally left to yourselves as per usual. It was already nighttime by then, however, so Wonwoo didn't have much time with you before having to head back to the villa with the guys.

As per usual, you had a few street snacks and walked arm to arm, content with the comfortable silence offered by the city. You'd each interrupt the silence with the occasional short-lived conversation, but it was still just as enjoyable.

It continued like this up until you suddenly stopped whilst on the way to the usual path Wonwoo took to walk you home.

"Wonwoo?", you asked, slight reluctance in your voice.

"Yeah?", he hummed, looking at you with slight worry yet sincerity in his eyes.

You swallowed before speaking. Your brows were furrowed with what seemed to be worry and your overall demeanor seemed less bright than usual.

"Will we see each other again after you leave? Or is this just a summer thing?", you bit your lip as you asked.

Wonwoo couldn't help but feel some sadness at your words.

Every part of him wanted to see you again. He knew a long distance relationship would be risky and difficult, specially with his day job, but he wanted to at least try. Maybe one day you could come see him? Or he could come back here? He still had to figure out how to ease you into even finding out about his lifestyle, but he trusted that you'd be understanding.

He stood in front of you and grabbed onto your hands reassuringly, bringing them up to his lips for a light kiss on the back of the palm of each. You smiled at this, silently understanding his reassurance.

"I'd take you back with me right now if I could," he began, "But if you ever happen to drop by Korea, I'd have to return the favor of showing you around," he ended with a smile.

"That sounds like an invitation for me to give you a surprise visit."

"Please give me a surprise visit. Give me all the surprise visits," he bit his lip in amusement.

It was agreed then, though hidden in jest, that this was not the last of you. This summer fling was the beginning to something Wonwoo ached to explore since the moment he met you.

His departure away from you and the perfect vacation was not easy. No tears were shed, but one last chaste kiss was had. It was one of the only kisses shared by you outside of the one that almost led him to his knees, begging to take you upstairs (though he was sure you wouldn't have objected).

After your chance meeting with Joshua, Jeonghan and Seungkwan, it wasn't late until the rest of the guys heard the news. His last few days at the villa with the boys were spent with constant teasing about Wonwoo's 'summer fling' as they liked to call it. Wonwoo had to hold back from correcting them, chuckling to himself at knowing it'd just provoke their teasing to increase tenfold.

Immediately after landing in Korea, Wonwoo turned his phone back on to find a message from you telling him to have a good flight and call when he arrived home signed off by a kissy emoji — a very important detail to add, according to Wonwoo.

His response to you came in the form of a short greeting, though your response after that morphed into an incoming call. Wonwoo suddenly remembered the seven hour time difference, realizing it wasn't too big.

Picking up the call, he mentally prepared himself to hear your voice again.

"Hi," he could hear the smile in your voice.

"Hi," he returned, shy, "I was kind of worried you wouldn't call," he found himself admitting.

"What, why?" your smile was replaced by a pout, he could tell.

"I don't know. Just thought maybe I was just a summer fling type of thing, that you were just too nice to let me down in person," he couldn't help but think back to the words of the members.

"It's too late to get rid of me, Wonwoo. Should've given me a fake name and number to ward me off."

"Maybe I did. Maybe it was all a lie," he joked, though still realizing it was sort of a half-truth.

"Oh my god, don't say that!", you giggled, "I can't see your face, you'll make me think you're being serious."

"Was I not obvious enough about how crazy I am about you last I saw you?"

He knew he had absolutely not been obvious about it. He was too shy in person. The boldness was only coming out due to the lack of interpersonal interaction.

"No. I'm pretty sure I was the one who was obvious," you smiled again (he was so sure of it).

"Well, I'll have to make sure to let you know next time I see you."

"Oh? Is that a date, then? We've known each other for a month and I only got one date out of you. That's kind of mean of you, don't you think?"

Okay, you clearly weren't smiling anymore. You were teasing him, and Wonwoo could very well remember that look on your face any time you knew you had the upper hand on him.

Wonwoo bit his lip through the grin he could just not get out of his face, "I'll take you on as many dates as you want as soon as we're in the same country again," he promised and meant it.

"Is that a way to convince me to get on a plane to Korea right now? Because it's working."

He wished that were true.

"I'll catch a flight back to you the moment my schedule allows, I promise," he hoped the desperation to see you in his voice wasn't pathetically obvious.

"We'll see who gets to the other first," you challenged.

Wonwoo pondered on the thought of you in his home country. He still remembered the many times you'd 'threatened' to drop in on him without warning. The thought made him nervous, but part of him kind of hoped it was more than a joke to express your excitement to see him after you were a few countries apart. The reality of you coming to Korea would be slightly more grim, however, considering that it'd be virtually impossible for him to hide his career from you here the way he had in Italy. Being frank, he was pretty surprised you hadn't somehow figured it out yet.

Your call continued for about an hour before you caught on to the tiredness in his voice and insisted he go to sleep. After some half-hearted insistence to stay on call (only to be refuted by you), he finally hung up and headed over to bed.

This routine of calling and texting multiple times a day continued through the following few months. Despite his busy schedules, Wonwoo managed to make time for you almost every single day. The time difference actually ended up working in Wonwoo's favor, seeing as by the time he was done with his day yours was barely starting.

Much to Wonwoo's dismay, the way in which you became official was much less romantic than he would've loved to provide to you, but only a few weeks into your daily calls and his heart just insisted he needed to make things official. He had been scared as soon as the question left his mouth, but your enthusiastic agreement alleviated him extremely. He felt an unexplored sort of giddiness at having you officially be his girlfriend.

Occasionally you'd whine about missing him, something which he soon learned to tame through either teasing or reassurance (it depended on his mood). His confidence when speaking to you grew through the hours of calls and face-times shared between you, along with your more frequent use of Korean when speaking with him. He was so smitten with you, though, that he'd begun taking both English and Italian lessons on his rare time off. Maybe he could surprise you with that someday.

Some months of pure long-distance bliss were spent like this. The guys had been made aware of his relationship and were nothing less than supportive, though the occasional worry was brought up by a few members about his lack of communication when it came to his career. This worried Wonwoo too, but an uncharacteristically selfish part of himself was just too scared of the consequences behind it to break the news any time soon.

It was unfortunate for Wonwoo that that decision would ultimately not fall down to him.

Wonwoo woke up that day ready for a grueling day of practice just like any other.

Most days seemed to blend together as of late. No overseas schedules seemed to be in the horizon for the foreseeable future, which meant that Wonwoo's job for the time being mostly consisted on working on future comebacks in advance and a few shoots here and there.

His life had been pretty menial for a while (at least as menial as an idol's life could be). Your calls continued to fit perfectly with his schedule, and he hadn't had to miss one in weeks.

Four months into your relationship (and about six since knowing you) and you continued to go very strong. Wonwoo had released bits and pieces of his career to you at varying times, hoping to somehow ease you into the knowledge that he had omitted a large truth of his life from you. He'd been open about working in entertainment, having producing experience, working an unpredictable schedule, and traveling a lot. Although these were all true, he still felt an itch at his heart bugging at him for not just coming out and telling you 'I'm a K-Pop idol with millions of fans! I can't date publicly because of my job! I am far from home almost 90% of the time! My entire life is watched at all times!' Perhaps it was the knowledge that that information was incredibly intimidating. But it was also due to how far he had dug himself into this lie.

Wonwoo was surprised you hadn't looked up his name online by now. You'd exchanged instagrams with each other (though, to be fair, he had given you his private, friends and family only, account), but a nosier person than you would've already typed Wonwoo onto some search engine and found him to be the very first result accompanied by hours of content related to him and his members. Part of him was scared you'd actually do it one day and proceed to ghost him due to either the pressure of his career or the blatant lie he'd told you (and kept up) upon meeting you.

Today was one of the many days in which this thought crept into his head. Some days it bothered him more than others, which was why he had already set up a plan to go back down to Italy as soon as fashion week began next month and finally tell you in person. He owed you that much.

For now he'd just let it go, hoping you'd find it in yourself to forgive him for not being open with you from the start while also being happy at the prospect of seeing you again.

This happiness, sadly, did not last Wonwoo for too long. It all started going downhill when you'd called him earlier than normal that same morning.

It was odd. It was about 3AM in Italy when he'd gotten the call. Not one to ever miss a chance to talk to you, though, he picked up without hesitation. This was when everything started crumbling down.

"Wonwoo!", you exclaimed excitedly into the phone.

"Babe? Hi. It's so late over there, what's up?"

The usage of pet names was still new, but he couldn't help in giving into it with no hesitation.

"Nope, don't think so. It's bright and sunny right now."

"Hmm? Are you outside? This late? What are you up to, pretty?", he smiled as he said so, amused yet confused at your words.

"Wanna guess where I am?", the smile could still be heard in your voice.

"Heading home, I'm hoping? It's late, baby. You got a ride?", he couldn't help but continue to express concern. You weren't much the type to be out further than 1AM or so.

"Wonwoo!," you interrupted, "God you're so difficult to surprise- I'm in Korea!"

His former steps halted the moment you spoke, leaving him standing in the middle of a hallway at the Hybe building as he headed to his following destination. You were wrong. Apparently he was very easy to surprise.

"You're- what?"

"Surprise! They're remodeling the museum so I took up a writing job online in the meantime. It's all remote, so I thought why not come visit you. Excited?", he could hear the kiddish excitement in your voice.

"Baby, what? You're here? Wait, where? Are you joking? You're really here?", he looked to his surroundings as if you'd suddenly spawn there.

"Well not here here. I'm at the airport still. I was hoping to surprise you at your apartment, but then I remembered I don't actually have your address," you giggled, "Any way you'd give a girl a lift over to your place? I promise to be good."

The flirtatious turn to your tone almost made Wonwoo forget about all the implications that came with you being in Korea. He had half the mind to leave work right now and run into your arms as he often saw in romantic movies upon a reunion of lovers.

That's when he remembered who he was and where he was currently standing. He had more than enough flexibility as a senior idol to take off for the day and whisk you off your feet and over to his apartment. However, it was the trip in between that proved problematic seeing as Jeon Wonwoo would easily be spotted at the airport, especially if he had a pretty girl in his arms while there.

But this thought didn't stop Wonwoo from happily agreeing to picking you up. You were the girl he was in love with, having traveled all the way to him in hopes of being received with open arms. There was no timeline in which he'd ever say no to you.

"I- I'll pick you up," he stuttered, unable to mask his nerves, "I'll be there in twenty minutes, okay, baby? Can you come meet me in the parking lot? I won't be able to get out of the car. I- I'll explain later, okay?", he attempted.

You hesitated for a moment before responding, "Uh, okay, Nonu. Whatever works for you. Tell me you're excited to see me, at least?", you encouraged with a pout somehow noticeable in your tone.

"You have no idea how happy I am. God, I can't wait to see you, angel," he couldn't help the dulcet tone that took over his voice. He probably looked like a freak to any staff member passing by.

"You better be. I don't travel to another country just for any man."

"I'm the luckiest man," he entertained you (whilst fully believing the statement), "Stay where you are, okay? I'll text you where to meet me once I'm there. Be good and don't talk to any strangers," he couldn't help but warn worriedly.

"Yes, dad," you jokingly mocked, "See you soon, Nonu. Love you, mwuah!" you did a kissy sound at the phone, demanding one back from him before finally hanging up.

Wonwoo practically ran over to his manager after that, asking for the keys to the car in which he was usually driven while in Korea. He explained the situation to anyone who needed to be privy to it before heading over to you, anxious yet excited to see you. Once there, he parked somewhere easy enough to locate and called you in order to direct you to his current location.

The moment he saw you from a distance, he couldn't help but let a smile take over his entire face. It hurt from how big and annoyingly there it was, but he hadn't felt this giddy in months. The only moment that beat it was when you also noticed his car, practically running to it with your suitcases dragging behind you. It took everything in Wonwoo not to get out of the car, which served as a reminder of the uncomfortable conversation that was to come. All was forgotten, though, the moment you entered the unlocked car and immediately jumped at Wonwoo to the best of your ability inside the small space on the front seat.

"Nonu!", you squealed, wrapping your arms around him and practically making your way over to his lap. Your door was still open and your suitcases sitting right behind you, but your priorities were clear.

Wonwoo's arms wrapped right around you, squeezing you against his chest as he nuzzled his head into your hair, humming at the warmth you immediately provided him with.

"Missed you so much. You have no idea, pretty girl."

"I have some idea," you hummed back, attempting to pull away but being denied by a tightening of Wonwoo's arms around you, to which you responded with a giggle.

"Give me one more minute," he murmured.

After what was easily more than a minute, you finally pulled away, creating enough distance to look into his eyes with a smile that mirrored his own.

"I want to kiss you, but I'm also hyperaware of my suitcases being stolen," you giggled, "You guys got any pickpockets in Korea?"

He laughed, "Get your stuff in the car, pretty. I'll kiss you all you want when I get you back home."

"Oooh, home? Am I staying at your place then? Stealing me away already?"

"Yup, I'm holding you hostage for as long as you're in Korea," he said nonchalantly as he started the car after you'd logged your stuff onto the backseat.

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

To Wonwoo's fortune, his car's windows were tinted from outside view, which meant he did not have to worry about anyone seeing you with him. He was also lucky enough to not have bumped into any Seventeen related billboards or such that may have given away his identity. But despite this, Wonwoo knew he had to break the news to you sooner rather than later. During his ride over to the airport he'd decided to tell you as soon as he got you settled at his apartment. There was no use in delaying it.

"Woah, how rich are you? This place looks so expensive," you wowed at him as soon as you stepped foot in his and Mingyu's shared luxury loft.

He chuckled and dismissed your compliment, opting instead to move your suitcases to the side so he could finally envelop you in a proper hug. There were no complains from you, or at least that's what he got from the sigh of contentment you released against his chest at his embrace. Swaying you back and forth a bit, he pressed you impossibly close to him, taking his time to enjoy the faint smell of your perfume that had somehow survived your flight. You had a warmth to you, probably brought from the nap he was sure you'd taken during your flight. It felt far too nice to hold you like this.

"God, you missed me so bad," you teased, chin propping itself on his chest and staring up at him with a grin.

"Not gonna deny it," he murmured, pecking your lips when you puckered them up at him.

Falling into domesticity with you felt completely natural to Wonwoo. He was slightly surprised at the realization that he no longer felt the same nerves around you that he did back in Italy. It might've been the tons of hours spent on facetime calls, but it was still unexpected to Wonwoo. You simply brought a brand new level of comfort to him.

"Well, kiss me about it!", you pouted, continuing to pucker your lips to demand more kisses.

Leaning down, he finally captured your lips in the way he had been wanting to since that tipsy kiss back in Italy. His hands held onto the small of your back while yours found a home in the treces of his hair. You'd mentioned you liked the length, which had been a great contributor in his denial to do any changes to it when his stylists suggested so upon his return to Korea.

The kiss grew more heated than Wonwoo had planned, but he couldn't help himself in wanting to enjoy you while he had the chance. The two of you were finally together in the daylight, behind closed doors and alone. This was a circumstance you had never had the privilege of being under.

It was you who began walking backwards, Wonwoo believed, but he wasn't too sure seeing as his feet followed you anyway. He made sure your head didn't bump into the wall once you'd reached it, but his focus was quickly taken right back to you at the increase in proximity. Practically molded into each other, you continued to explore each other's mouths with a mixture of frustration and need.

It was quite reminiscent of your first kiss. It was heavy and loaded with yearning. Humming into your mouth, Wonwoo gasped when he felt you readjust his hands so he could feel you up in ways he'd been imagining but did not think he'd have the balls to do once he found himself in your presence. Taking note of the silent consent, he let his hands enjoy the curves of your body and swallow any moans that left you as a result.

"Nonu," you mumbled when his lips began trailing down, teeth gracing lightly at your skin, "Should we go to your room?"

He didn't respond, instead pressing a few more kisses on you before taking hold of your hand to lead you into the couch located in the living room— he had no headspace to make it to his room. Once there, you became immediately excited to push him on the couch, straddling his hips as he say at the edge of it and continuing your ministrations.

"Is this okay?", you sighed into his lips upon beginning to feel up the skin under his shirt, fingers itching to fully remove it.

A nod from him was seemingly all you needed to begin unbuttoning his shirt while Wonwoo himself allowed his own hands to explore the skin under your clothes.

Everything was happening so fast, but neither you nor Wonwoo had it in you to stop. There had been tension between you every night you met up in Italy, and somehow this tension only continued to build with the distance suddenly placed between you. If it had been up to Wonwoo, he would've taken this all the way to the end, and then some. Already with a fully unbuttoned shirt and your own gone altogether, Wonwoo was ready to bury his head in your bra-covered breasts and let you grind on him until his brain was complete mush.

But then you suddenly stopped.

"Hmph," you grunted between kisses, pulling away and looking over his shoulder with a muted gasp. You pointed behind him as you halted the movements of your hips while Wonwoo was still on a daze caused by your lips.

"What's that?"

With some effort, Wonwoo turned his body as much as he could, having to maneuver you on top of him as he zeroed in on what you were looking at and- fuck.

"Is that you?," you got up, heading over to the object that had caught your attention, "Is that Elle magazine?"

By then, you'd gotten off him altogether, walking over to the section of his living room that held the small make-shift shrine of magazines Mingyu had insisted on making a few weeks ago. This wall had multiple magazines hung on it, with a majority of them being Mingyu's while the rest were some of Wonwoo's.

"Is that Kim Mingyu? Wait, shit. Your roommate– Your Mingyu is the Kim Mingyu? Wonwoo, what the fuck?"

You were now standing next to the shrine, only donning a bra as you looked to Wonwoo with immense confusion in your face all while he continued to feel a tingle on his lips due to your previous activities.

Wonwoo had told you the names of all his friends throughout your time of knowing each other, blindly hoping that you'd be none the wiser — which you'd been. So he was slightly shocked at the sudden realization that you somehow made the connection between his roommate Mingyu and the Kim Mingyu currently displayed multiple times on his wall.

"You know Mingyu?", he asked dumbfounded, clearly not focusing on the actual matter at hand.

"I saw he was at Paris fashion week and on some billboards-," you interrupted yourself with a shake of your head, "That's not important!" you went to grab at one of the many magazines displaying Wonwoo, "You're on a magazine cover? Wonwoo, are you ... Oh my God, you're- are you an idol?", you finally asked.

To Wonwoo's dismay, your shock did not seem like the positive kind that he'd grown used to any time people found out he was part of a popular idol group. No, your shock seemed more so frustrated, angry even.

Getting up, his hands went to halfheartedly cover up his chest by closing his unbuttoned shirt before carefully making his way to you.

"I- I'll explain, okay? Can we sit down? I'll answer any questions you have, just sit with me," he practically pleaded, hesitant in extending his hand for you to take and sighing in relief when you accepted it, letting him lead you back to the couch, sitting side by side this time.

Your body turned to his, "Wonwoo-"

"Yeah, I'm an idol," he began, giving up on his ruse, "I'm in a group called Seventeen with Mingyu. I, uh, I was recording a variety show while we were in Italy. That's why I could only ever see you at night. That's also why I couldn't get out of the car when I picked you up," he let it out all at once.

You sat there in silence, eyebrows raised in shock and mouth adorned with a slight frown. Your appearance didn't give Wonwoo a feeling of anger, but rather something worse — disappointment.

At your silence, Wonwoo cleared his throat and continued.

"I didn't mean to lie to you. When I met you, I was sure I'd never see you again after those first few days, but then we kept meeting, and, and then we kissed and started, well, our relationship, I guess. Before I knew it, I ended up liking you far more than I'd ever allowed myself to like anyone before," he rambled, hands anxiously squeezing your own every so often, "I thought that I'd be ruining what we had if I told you the truth and I'd end up scaring you off or that you wouldn't see me the same anymore," he took a deep breath before continuing, "But I'm sorry. I never should've kept this from you. Specially not for as long as I did. I should've trusted you with this and not blindsided you like this, and I'm so, so sorry."

By the time he finished you were still silent, looking down at your intertwined hands rather than at him and with a sad look on your face. Wonwoo decided to give you a few moments before he attempted to speak again, hoping that his apology might at least be the beginning of him making it up to you.

After what felt like hours, but was likely mere seconds of silence, you finally landed your gaze on him, gulping before speaking up.

"Wonwoo, I- Did you think I could be that shallow as to care about you being an idol?", you sounded hurt as you said it, though you continued to give him the privilege of holding your hand.

"No, no, it's nothing like that, I-"

"Then why didn't you trust me? I understand not telling me while we were in Italy, but, now? We've been doing long distance for months. We've said I love you to each other. Did I- did I do something to make you not trust me?"

"No!", he couldn't help but feel exasperated.

He cleared his throat, wanting nothing more than to remain calm and show you how apologetic he was the best that he possibly could. Squeezing your hands once more, he shifted on the couch again, propped leg touching your own as he pleaded with his eyes.

"It wasn't about you. I need you to please understand that. Nothing about you made me distrust or want to lie to you," he took a breath, "This was all me. I was insecure and panicked and ended up lying to you in the process. I should've told you. There's no fixing my mistake, but I want you to know that I love you and I trust you. Completely. I was going to tell you as soon as we made plans for you to come visit me, or as soon as I went back to Italy, whichever came first. I- I couldn't do this over the phone. I owed you that much, at least."

Wonwoo had said his piece. He liked to think he was good with words, writing them for a living and all, but with you sitting in front of him, distrust in your eyes, he felt like he'd spoken all the words imaginable and had been left with nothing coherent enough to convey his feelings. He wished he had the same poetic tongue he showed off to his fans time and time again, but you were on an entirely different league to him.

"I'm just ... hurt. I'm hurt you didn't tell me. I'm hurt that I didn't know about this huge part of your life that clearly means a lot to you," you paused for a second to sniffle, showing the first sign of crying that Wonwoo hoped wouldn't come, "I'm hurt you'd be willing to have sex with me while still lying about your identity."

Oh.

Oh, he-

"Would you have told me after we'd slept together? Or were you just going to give me an NDA to sign right after?", there was a slight tone of snark in your voice as you let go of his hand for the first time.

Wonwoo felt hurt by your words. He knew you didn't mean them. That you knew he felt more for you than to string you along just to send you running with a legal document detailing your contractual obligation to keep whatever happened between you a secret. But this still didn't take away the sting.

But no part of him blamed you. It was possible that you did feel like he'd been using you. That he took advantage of your lack of knowledge of him to live out some fantasy of his in which he didn't have to worry about being an idol.

"I'm sorry. I'd never- it was never like that for me. You weren't just an NDA to me. I wanted to keep you away from all that stuff for as long as I could. But I never consulted you about it. I should've let you decide whether you wanted-" he cleared his throat, swallowing the vile building there, "whether you'd still want to be with me despite that."

Upon looking into your eyes, he saw a slight change in your demeanor. Unbeknownst to him, his eyes had begun forming tears, tears which your hands immediately reached up to wipe at with the most delicacy imaginable. His lips tugged up slightly at your demonstration of affection. One of his hands came up to hold yours hostage against his cheek, leaning into it when you caressed it. Your eyes now showed more compassion than anything, with your frustration at him being overtaken by care for him.

"I'm sorry, I-" he went to apologize, only to be interrupted by your moving closer to him on the couch and sushing him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I know you didn't- I know you wouldn't do that, I'm just ... I'm just mad, I'm sorry," you needlessly apologized, causing Wonwoo to shake his head in an exasperated manner.

"You should be mad. I lied to you," he chuckled sadly at your frown. It made him melt how your immediate reaction to him crying was to push everything aside and comfort him.

"I'm not actually angry. I'm just disappointed. I feel like there's this huge part of your life I was just left out of while I opened myself up to you entirely," you mumbled sadly.

"I know," he whispered, not knowing what else to say and being entirely too scared that anything else would make you take your hands away from him.

A moment of silence passed by while you both sniffled and you continued to wipe at his silent tears. His hand held onto your empty one, heart accelerating at how you held his back.

"I would've liked you just the same, you know," you mumbled a few moments later.

"What?", he asked as if he hadn't heard you.

"I wouldn't've minded your job. I would've liked you just as much as I already do. I- I would've been willing to put the extra work it would've taken for us to be together if necessary," you continued.

His stomach churned. He knew this. Deep within him, he felt a connection so strong, which he knew was entirely mutual. The thought made him happy, but that was quickly taken away when he remembered the context of the conversation.

"I know," he rasped, "I- I should've known," he corrected, "I'm sorry."

Wonwoo was unsure as to what was supposed to happen next. He wanted to leave it up to you. No matter what your decision was, he'd respect it.

"I don't want you to beat yourself up over it, Wonwoo. I just ... I think I need a little while to think things over, if that's okay," you looked to him with a small smile which he returned.

"Yes, of course. Anything you need. Do you- do you want me to get you a hotel? Or ... Would you still want to stay with me?," he felt so pathetic asking, but he held the hope that you'd still be willing to stay with him.

"Of course I want to stay here. I told you, Wonwoo, I don't travel to another country for just any man," you joked lightheartedly, making Wonwoo chuckle lightly.

The conversation mostly ended there. You continued to awkwardly put your shirt back on and settled yourself in his room. He decided to stay at home for the rest of the day, attempting to mend things with you.

You continued to treat him as usual, occasionally asking him about his career, to which he responded awkwardly but attempted to keep things casual as to not make the situation uncomfortable. For the most part, he helped you settle down, as you'd informed him you'd be staying for two months due to the duration of your current assignment. At some point you'd offered to stay at a hotel, likely sensing his change of demeanor after your argument, but he profusely insisted you stay.

When it was time to sleep, he felt even more awkward, not knowing whether he should offer to sleep in the living room or bunk with Mingyu to avoid making you uncomfortable by staying on the same bed.

"Don't be dumb. I don't mind sleeping together," had been your nonchalant response, not noticing his reaction at the implication.

"Are you sure? I don't-"

"Wonwoo!", you suddenly raised your voice, pinching at your eyebrows in frustration afterwards, "I'm not mad at you."

You made your way over to him, putting down some of the stuff you'd been organizing in the walk-in bathroom located in his room. Once in front of him, you hesitated for a second but opted to hold his hands as you often liked to do.

"I want to spend time with you. Let's just ... let's try to move past it. I'm not angry, I just need to process it a bit, okay? I'd still like to share a bed with you, if you want that too," you looked shy for a mere second, "I've always thought about cuddling you," you finished with a small giggle.

Wonwoo smiled fondly at you, letting his guard down the most he had been since this afternoon's situation. He went on a whim and hugged you, pressing you comfortably against his chest.

"I'd love that. Thank you," he found himself thanking you as he led you to bed, humming happily when you removed any distance from between the two of you as soon as you laid down.

"I've always wanted this," he whispered against you, arms holding you safely against him.

"Me too," you whispered.

Like that, you fell into slumber, giving Wonwoo a brand new hope that things would be okay.

The following day started very differently than originally imagined. Part of Wonwoo was convinced it had all been a dream. The groggy part of him as he laid there, pressed up against you and only about 10% awake was truly convinced that he was currently in a dream state.

Which was why what followed didn't seem out of the ordinary for him.

This had not been the first time Wonwoo had dreamt of you.

Although most of his dreams were sweet and innocent, filled with your pretty smile and sweet touch, there were a few outliers. These were some which he was mostly embarrassed by, but he really couldn't deny enjoying them.

This dream seemed like a bit of a rollercoaster, really. It all began with you coming to visit him? In Korea? Man, was he elated to have you. But then the inevitable happened. You'd found out about his lies. You'd gotten hurt by him. He'd disappointed you.

He was unsure how the rest progressed, but somehow he ended up in bed with you, sharing an 'I love you' before falling asleep by your side.

What ensued after had been his favorite part.

Having you pressed up so closely against him had an immediate effect, or at least so much was obvious by the sudden tightness of his boxers. His hips took a mind of their own as they pressed further against the ass curved so perfectly against him.

His hands held tightly onto your hips, beginning to slowly hump against you.

Many of his M rated dreams about you went on like this. It'd start with some scenario involving you and eventually evolve into Wonwoo humping his bed in his sleep, but it always felt entirely too real.

Almost as real as now, but maybe not quite.

Maybe because this was real. It just took Wonwoo a little while to realize it.

What began to break him out of his sleepy daze had been the breathy sigh he heard in his vicinity. But what truly took him right out was when his pillow(?) pushed back against him, drawing a pathetic whimper from his throat.

Opening his eyes, he then realized the reality of the situation.

He just so happened to have his pretty girl actually on his bed.

It all came back to him immediately. The surprise visit, the almost-sex, the revelation, the crying, the reconciliation, everything.

But his hips never stopped moving.

And when they did, he suddenly felt a hand draw back and press his own hand further into your hip, a whisper of a voice coming out.

"Keep going, Nonu ..." you said, pushing yourself even harder into him.

With a groan, he buried his face into your neck, kissing the skin he found there. This was when he really lost himself.

"Fuck," he groaned, hips humping you with desperation. It was that morning sensitivity that had him acting on impulse, he knew this, but he still couldn't help himself — especially when you began moaning along.

"Take off your pants," you grunted.

It was obvious to Wonwoo what you wanted to do, which was why no objection was had as he undid the drawstring of his pajamas before pulling out his dick just enough for you to dig behind you and take hold of it in the pretty hands he'd dreamed of many times before.

Lowering your own sleeping shorts just enough, you did the unexpected, burying his cock between the nonexistent space between your thighs and encouraging him to hump his dick against him.

He gasped at the tightness, feeling the upper side of his dick be permeated with the wetness you'd released. His brain piratically short-circuited at knowing just how close you were to him.

"Baby," he grunted.

"Feel good, Nonu?", you grinned. He couldn't see your face, but he just knew.

Head still buried against you, he whined a pathetic 'yes' while he sucked love bites into your neck. It was downright pitiful how good he felt without actually fucking you, but his hips just wouldn't stop seeking that tightness.

He continued to grace your cunt, giving you what knew must've been a frustrating amount of stimulation — enough to have you wanting more, but lacking the fulfillment he could easily give you once inside you.

Wonwoo really wanted to make you cum. God, did he want to flip you to your back and have his way. But this felt so fucking good. It was a lost battle and you knew it. It had been your plan from the moment he'd woken you up by grinding against you. It was all so transparent to Wonwoo. You wanted to torture him, and god did he want to be tortured.

With a few more thrusts between your thighs, he finished. The whimpers left against your skin would've been embarrassing had he not felt the pulsing of your cunt any time a sound left his throat. You liked it, and he wanted to give you everything you liked.

You turned around afterwards, now facing him and immediately stealing a kiss from him. No words needed to be shared when he'd missed your kiss so much. Not when he felt so good as he kissed you. Making love to your mouth as badly as he wanted to your cunt, he kissed you until you were both out of breath.

His leg caught onto your middle, sneaking its way between your legs as you dragged your cunt against it whilst continuing your kiss. Your pants and heavy breaths landed directly into his mouth, but he welcomed it, ensuring your lips remained connected. Dragging your middle up and down his leg, he could feel your high approaching. You pulsed and writhed at the friction, angling yourself however you saw fit while Wonwoo aided you by dragging his leg in synch.

With a broken gasp, you came while Wonwoo's embrace never left you. A visceral reaction overtook him during your orgasm. The sight and feeling of the pretty girl he'd been thinking about for months finally falling apart under his barely-there touch had the most obvious effect — he was hard, again.

"Wonwoo," you breathed out after catching your breath. Your hand found his chin, angling him to look into your eyes.

"Hmm?", he was slightly nervous at how deadpan your tone sounded.

"I need you to fuck me."

"A-ah," he grunted when you guided him on top of you, "Are you sure?" he breathed once hovering over you.

"Extremely."

"But-"

"Wonwoo, I love you. I've been wanting this since Italy. It's okay, I promise," you went to hold his face in your hands, smiling that pretty smile at him as you spoke, topping it off with a chaste peck.

"I love you too," he smiled back, connecting your lips for a longer kiss.

The rest was pretty much history. Your bodies molded with one another, foreplay becoming far too natural for your first time together. You kissed and felt every inch of each other's bodies before Wonwoo blindly patted his end table for a condom, entering you when you continued to insist on him doing so.

He groaned into your neck, puffing hot air against your sweaty skin at just how perfectly he felt. He'd missed your presence so bad, but he didn't realize he could miss this despite having never had it before. It was clear to him now that there was no way he could ever let you leave Korea again. He'd have to ditch his job and hike a flight back to Italy or simply hold you hostage in Seoul.

Or maybe that was just the pussydrunkness speaking.

"Move," you whined after too many seconds spent by Wonwoo attempting not to lose himself as soon as he entered you.

It became even more tortuous when he began bumping in and out of you. He found the perfect rhythm immediately, with your hips humping upwards and aiding him in the task. He wasn't sure if it was because you just so happened to be made for him or if it was due to how much he loved you, but the feeling of you was completely unrivaled by anything else he'd experienced in his 28 years of life.

His arms went to the back of your thighs, lifting them further up his waist to hold you as close to him as possible. Your responded by digging your nails into his biceps, crying out his name when the canting of his hips just became too much to handle.

"Fuck, just like that," you sighed, "R-right there!", was your next respond when he angled you just perfectly.

Knowing his orgasm was just moments away, he followed your every direction, becoming in tune with your body almost immediately. His thumb was practically glued to your clit, working different patterns until he found one that had your eyes rolling back. It was hard not to become obsessed with your pleasure upon getting a taste of it.

"F-fuck. Gonna cum, Nonu," your nails dragged down his back.

He hissed at the pain, but drank it all in. His grunts encouraged you to do whatever you wanted to him. He was yours from now on.

"Cum, pretty. I'm right behind you," he panted. That dancer's stamina was really paying off right now.

Your orgasm led directly to his own, with mumbles of 'I love you's muttered as mantras as you both entered and rode your highs. The sticky sweat shared between your bodies did not bother Wonwoo as he nuzzled against you, making sure he did not drop his entire body weight into you while keeping himself as close as possible.

Throwing out the condom, he got up despite his exhaustion to make sure to clean you up a bit, dragging your tired body to pee while he made sure bed was warm and ready for your return.

You emerged back with a lazy smile on your face, almost tackling him when you ran back to bed and let him envelop you in his arms.

More sweet words were exchanged (along with some brave touches in between kisses) as you fell asleep in each other's arms again. When you awoke again, it was with smiles glued to your faces, not leaving you even as you went out to fix yourselves up a quick and domestic breakfast.

He held your waist and buried his face in the crook of your neck as you insisted on cooking, just as he'd pictured uncountable times before. You were so into your own world that you did not hear the entrance of Wonwoo's roommate.

"Huh," you suddenly heard from behind you, causing the two of you to jump.

"So you're the girl taking up all of Wonwoo's attention," Mingyu grinned teasingly, hands on his hips in an accusatory manner.

And that was only the beginning of your welcome into Wonwoo's world.

to read short 2.2k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, pda, mingyu third-wheeling, dry humping, an appearance from a few other members, etc.

wc: 531 (teaser); 2.2k (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"It's been three weeks and I'm still not used to being your third wheel. Don't feel particularly happy about it either," Mingyu whined from his lonesome couch whilst staring at the two of you cuddled up in another.

Ever since you began staying with Wonwoo, your affection had been through the roof. Neither of you were too big on PDA, but you didn't really mind it while indoors — especially since that was the only environment in which you could truly be together freely.

It was unfortunate for Mingyu, however, that indoors usually involved his presence.

Mingyu had welcomed you with open arms, insisting that he was more than happy to share the apartment with Wonwoo's girl, as he called you. But within only a few weeks, his demeanor changed slightly. He began to pout and whine any time you'd lounge around together, claiming he was now a third wheel in his own home and complaining about feeling single.

There had also been a few less PG instances the had a tendency to complain about.

It had only happened a few times, but that didn't make it any less mortifying when it did happen.

Today, fortunately, was one of the tamer instances in which you'd simply opted for a night in. Surprisingly to you, the two boys you'd been roomming with were both more homebodies than they seemed. Well, you'd expected it from Wonwoo, but Mingyu had been a surprise.

As per usual, you were cuddled up with Wonwoo as you watched a movie. Meanwhile, your friend Mingyu sat at a slight distance away on his own couch, continuing to stare with a pout.

This only went long enough until your boyfriend decided to whine back at his roommate.

"Gyu, just go on that blind date Kwannie suggested. Stop acting like we killed your dog," he grumbled.

You only giggled along as you listened.

"I like the single life! It's just that I wasn't expecting to have the human manifestation of a romance novel shoving their perfect relationship in my face at all times," he went on to complain.

"Dude, what do you want from me?", Wonwoo complained, annoyed.

The large man simply sighed petulantly before getting up, shooting you yet another annoyed look.

"I'll just go out again, I guess. Please don't do anything disgusting in my absence," he called as he made his way to leave, taking a plate of snacks away from you and Wonwoo in the process despite your lighthearted complaints.

With a few other scoldings from him, he made his way out, likely to go hang out with some of the many friends the man had to choose from. Simultaneously, Wonwoo took advantage of the newfound privacy to somehow cuddle up to you even closer, burying his face in your neck to breathe you in.

"Well, that was fun," you joked.

"Mhm," was all Wonwoo responded, his attention now laying completely on the skin of your neck as he began nosing at it, pressing the occasional kiss.

"I think it's better when he's gone, don't you think?", he mumbled between kisses, hands beginning to roam your torso.

"He's fun," you defended half-heartedly, easily giving in to him.

...

find the continuation on patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo smut #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo oneshot #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo scenario

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highvern · 4 months ago

Text

When in Rome

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f!reader

Genre: fluff, smut, angst

warnings: alcohol consumption, cheating, nudity, mentions of drug use, explicit sexual acts (unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral, swallowing)

Length: ~24k

Note: excited to have this for the @svthub world tour collab! thank u to @gyuswhore for helping, @wonuvs for fact checking my shitty italian, @the-boy-meets-evil for making sure i actually finished this fic bc i live to torture her and everyone else who contributed to this over the months it took me to finally write it!

this is from cheol's pov which was a new challenge but i loved it (i will never do it again). i'll be out of town when this goes up but can't wait to read everyone's feed back!!!

Summary: After months of no contact, Seungcheol isn't sure what to expect when he sees you again at Jeonghan's wedding. He's prepared to apologize, to grovel, to bear the weight of a cold shoulder. Whatever it takes to have you back, his best friend since diapers; or whatever will ensure the last third of your trio has the best day of his life. But when he overhears the most recent development in your relationship, he must come to terms with something he was never prepared for, or risk losing you for good.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

There are fewer places Seungcheol hates more than airports. Dentist offices, his grandparents’ house during the holidays when they ask about grandkids, and even the time he ran into his elementary school science teacher the first time he was buying condoms at the pharmacy, all were more favorable than the hustle and bustle of an international airport.

Seungcheol likes to be straightforward and direct. Something that becomes seemingly at odds with the average person traveling because at the one place everyone has somewhere to be, they act as if they have all the time in the world.

But the simple thought that it's all temporary, that his personal ninth circle of hell is the only thing standing between him and a week in Italy is enough to grin and bear it.

On the other side of the terminal, his best friends are waiting for him. It’s not as if they haven’t seen each other for long; Jeonghan and Sofie were at bar trivia last week as their last hurrah before tying the knot. As usual they wiped the floor with everyone, rousing several allegations of cheating that Jeonghan deserved. But Seungcheol is about to watch them get married and it makes him a little misty around the eyes because he loves his friends more than anything.

The only concern, which is less of a concern and more of a titanic size anchor sinking in his gut, is that you’re one of Sofie’s bridesmaids. And you haven’t spoken to him since New Years when you revealed you were moving to New York with your boyfriend, Johnny.

Another place Seungcheol dreads, right next to the airport, is anywhere Johnny happens to be. He’s everything you aren’t: abrasive, arrogant, catty, disorganized. And those are just the traits at the front of the alphabet.

You had a plan. A list of criteria he had to listen to over and over again after each failed date. Even the guys Seungcheol set you up with after carefully vetting didn’t seem to make the mark. It was respectable, commendable. You wouldn’t settle for anything less than “perfect.” Whatever that meant to you.

At a bar, three years ago, Johnny approached you. Seungcheol watched from across the table as you mentally ran over your checklist. Johnny met the physical ones: tall, good hygiene, well kept appearance. The other things would need more investigation. What did he do for work? Was he close with his family? Kids? Opinions on cheating at bar trivia?

The more Seungcheol learned about Johnny after your detailed debrief from a few dates the more confused he became. Johnny worked in banking. You hated finance bros and called them scum of the dating pool. He was an only child and only talked to his parents on holidays and birthdays. You had grand dreams of close grandparents and houses full of cousins. He didn’t want kids. You did. He didn’t think bar trivia was that serious. Seungcheol watched you threaten Jeonghan’s life on more than one occasion over the use of Shazam during the music round. Johnny was everything you said you didn’t want.

And then you followed him across the country after two years of dating cut with three breakups.

It didn’t make sense.

When Seungcheol pulled you aside after you announced you’d be moving, trying to figure why you thought living with the man who once asked if you really needed to wash bath towels if you only use them when you’re already clean, you told him to mind his business. Later that night, after enough drinks to make everything blurry, you two got into a screaming match on the sidewalk with your shared friends attempting to play referee. It was the last time you two spoke.

In over twenty five years of friendship, founded on the backs of elementary school shenanigans under a reign of terror of one Jeonghan Yoon, you and Seungcheol’s real fights can be counted on one hand.

The sixth grade field trip where you and Jeonghan left him out, senior year of highschool when the girl Seungcheol took to prom argued about his parents taking more pictures with you than her, and junior year of college when Seungcheol caught you making out with his frat brother after ditching him under the guise of having a stomach bug. That was it. Three fights, all of which were resolved within a week because as stubborn as you both are, you’re best friends.

Five and a half months of not speaking, except when you called Seungcheol in the middle of the night without leaving a message and when he tried calling you back in the morning you didn’t answer. Not until a month later when he finally swallowed his pride and texted a half hearted apology to which you responded with a quarter of forgiveness. That was it.

But Seungcheol won’t dwell. He refuses to make things awkward for Jeonghan and Sofie during the most special week of their lives. Knowing you, you’ve probably already come to the same resolution. The only person you’re closer to than Seungcheol is Jeonghan with Sofie a close second. If there is anyone you two will agree to put aside an argument for, it's them.

The sun has already begun setting when he makes it through customs and out towards the Arrivals, painting everything in buttery yellow.

“SEUNGCHEOOOOOOOOOLLLLLL!” Sofie screams, hands cupped around her mouth.

She’s half outside the cherry red sports car. An Intermeccanica Italia Spyder because Seungcheol knows three things in life: expensive watches, expensive whiskey, and expensive cars. Sofie’s family happened to have plenty of the last and Seungcheol assumed the first two as well.

When Sofie became his study partner in law school she ended up following him on Instagram. He assumed from the way she carried herself, perfect posture with tailored clothes and an ‘air of society’ as you called it, that she was well off. But then, during a late night gossip session, you and he did a deep dive and found out Sofie wasn’t just well off. Her family had more money than God.

But everything on the surface was a contrast to who Sofie really was. Heiress to a fortune but studied more than anyone in their class just to graduate second. Perfect posture and tailored clothes are a stark contrast to her favorite bar where she’d outdrink anyone, and cheer when the prize for trivia was cheap plastic margarita glasses.

Or right now, where she belts Seungcheol’s name again like some drunk frat boy while sitting in a car worth more than his life.

Seungcheol jogs to where she waits, already smiling.

“I would have brought a ‘Welcome back from rehab’ sign but my mom thought you’d be embarrassed,” Sofie says as she hugs him over the console.

“At least make it ‘welcome home from prison’ so people won’t walk in my way.”

“I’ll make sure Jeonghan remembers you have a preference,” she calls over the wind.

Technically, the house (which is really a mansion) is almost an hour from the airport. With Sofie’s driving it only takes twenty minutes in which Seungcheol thinks he might need to start going to church.

The pebbled driveway crunches underneath the tires as they approach the imposing building he’d call home for the weekend.

In the evening light, the house is more daunting. An imposing stone facade rises from the ground, akin to a small castle than an actual home. Smooth stone with detailed carvings, windows with huge shutters, and on the top floor, a balcony, fenced with wrought iron, juts out.

Even after years of seeing pictures, Seungcheol still can’t believe his friend grew up here. He can’t believe it actually exists and isn’t some set from a historical drama.

Sofie throws the car in park right in front of the door before jumping out.

“By the way, there were some issues with one of the rooms.” Sofie drops her voice, “My aunt and uncle are fighting again, so I hope you don’t mind sharing?”

Seungcheol knows most of the guys coming to the wedding. Worst case scenario he’s stuck in a twin size bunk bed with a weird cousin. And with how busy he’ll be as best man, his room will be for sleep and not much else. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Perfect! Just leave your stuff, everyones out back.” Sofie pushes him as hard as she can manage which isn’t much at all given she’s five foot nothing.

The garden is filled with bodies upon bodies crowded together, some old, some young. Seungcheol recognizes a few faces in the mix: Soonyoung, Joshua, Seungkwan. More friends from law school. Jeonghan’s sister waves from across the way. Everyone seems to be paying attention to whatever is happening at the iron garden table.

And then, like a scene in a movie, everyone parts for a second and time freezes.

Seungcheol would recognize you anywhere. Even if he can’t see your face, he knows it's you. The curve of your shoulders, the tilt of your head. The bark of laughter as your chin drops forward. He knows it's you and the weight in his stomach lightens and leadens in an odd cycle.

He missed you.

Then everything comes back into real time. Wine and cards. Then he sees the chips on the table, your stack to the side significantly higher than anyone else's.

Months of ruminating over what he’d do when reunited fly out the window. Seungcheol doesn’t waste a minute as he approaches, hand on the back of your chair as he peeks over your head to sneak a glance at your hand.

“Who let you talk them into poker?”

You’re already smiling when you tilt back to look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Oh, how he missed you.

“She said she didn’t know how to play,” an old man grumbles from the side.

Seungcheol doesn’t recognize him but he’s got the same expression as all the people you’ve sharked before: mildly impressed and slightly murderous. Two other guys sit at the table, one old enough to be his grandfather looks almost proud. Seokmin fills that last seat, head in his hands at being swindled so easily.

“I said,” you start, throwing your gaze to him. “I hadn’t played in a while.”

You look back up at Seungcheol for some kind of support. Eyes round and innocent in a way you both know you’re not. Pool, cards, darts, any game a man a few drinks in could beat you at was easy fodder for your con. Usually it ended with free drinks, sometimes money, but mostly it’s Seungcheol playing referee for the disillusioned guys you swindled while wearing a bright grin.

Tossing a few chips towards the three men at table with a smart ‘don’t spend it all in one place,’ you rise and throw your arms around Seungcheol like everything is normal.

“Hi,” you whisper into his neck.

Seungcheol’s hands are already curled around your waist, pulling you in tight. “Hi.”

“I missed you.”

Seungcheol doesn’t think to question the sudden rush of familiarity after months of silence. Every fight in your long friendship ended this way; you both stew and stew until one day things snap back to normal. It’s how it’s always been.

“I see that you can’t even greet your best friend.” Jeonghan coughs from the side.

Seungcheol squeezes you tighter at the jab. It’s Jeonghan’s wedding but Seungcheol saw him last week when dropping the couple off at the airport to come here. He’s far more interested in dragging out his reunion with you as long as possible. “I’m in the middle of that actually.”

He scoffs in response, walking away. “Whatever, I see too much of you anyway.”

There’s glasses of wine waiting when you break apart. Seungcheol keeps closeby, not that you seem eager to go anywhere. His staring is obvious but he doesn’t care. You’re really here and the cold shoulder he expected to find is nowhere to be found.

Another two hours of celebrating, filled with drunken toasts and more card games with Sofie’s family that only end with you digging into their pockets even deeper, fly by before the exhaustion of a day starting in one continent and ending in another catches up to him. You’re too busy arguing over if Jeonghan cheated in the last round to notice Seungcheol slipping away from the table and towards the door leading inside.

Sofie is in the kitchen just beyond, another bottle of wine sloshing in hand as she talks animatedly on the phone. “Okay, look. I am on vacation. I’m about to get married. I literally left notes for everything I'm not working on during my wedding week. Figure it out. Bye.”

She hangs up without response, tossing her phone on the counter before taking a swig straight from the bottle.

“Good?” Seungcheol asks.

“Oh, you know, just the usual. I leave and suddenly no one knows how to do their job.” Sofie rolls her eyes. “What’s up? Need another glass?”

She raises the same bottle and the thought of more wine nearly turns his stomach.

Seungcheol brushes her off, moving to the sink and rinsing his glass with finality. “I think I’m gonna crash for the night.”

“Really?” she asks. “But the party just started!”

“For you maybe, some of us have been cramped on a plane all day.” He feels it. In his back and knees. The cramp in his neck from passing out halfway through and waking up bent at ninety degrees. And the hours he spent agonizing through emails with the inflight WiFi because even on vacation he can’t sit still for more than one minute. But now it’s a ticking time bomb before he curls up in a chair and passes out until morning.

Sofie snatches his glass before shooing him away from the sink and taking his place. “I forgot you’re an old man now.”

“You’re the same age as me?”

“Anyway,” she sings. “I know we promised you’d have your own room but—”

“That’s fine. I really don’t mind rooming with one of the guys.”

“Well… you and Y/N were the only ones not sharing and she said she wouldn’t mind for the weekend.”

“Huh?”

“I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal! Seokmin and Kwan agreed to share and room with Josh so things are pretty tight but I can see if we can switch things around and—”

“No, if she’s okay with it then it's fine.” Seungcheol says. “We just haven’t talked since, you know?”

Sofie seems to soften at that. “I know. But it looked like everything was fine outside.”

“Yeah,” Seungcheol sighs. “I missed her.”

“I know she missed you too.”

“She said that?”

“Oh please, neither of you have to say anything, you’re both pathetic,” she says while pouring another glass. “But I think this weekend will be good for you guys! Like old times.”

Old times. Before the fight. Before you moved away.

“Yeah, just like old times… At least we aren’t sharing a bed, right?” He jokes.

“Actually,” Sofie grimaces.

The one solace Seungcheol is gifted is the bed is massive. Almost the entire room is dominated by the plush mattress, a dresser, and a chair in the corner. He considers sleeping in that instead for all of a minute before realizing you probably wouldn’t let him and the absolute torture it’ll do to his neck.

At least the forced proximity won’t be awkward since you’ve silently agreed to leave the past behind you. He can’t imagine Sofie would consider this solution if you were still mad at him, even if it was her wedding week. The realization lightens the weight on his shoulders an ounce more.

Seungcheol throws his bag down at the foot of the bed. It’s no big deal; sharing a room with you. Childhood sleepovers had been the norm, a few nights in college you’d shared a clunky old twin bed when you both were too drunk to find your ways home separately. Your first apartment together, when you two had to share a mattress on the floor for the first weeks because all your money went into paying rent, flash in his head. Old times.

Thirty minutes later, freshly showered and in clean clothes, Seungcheol heads back downstairs for a glass of water before bed.

He remembers where the kitchen is after Sofie’s short tour, trapezing through the huge house easily. Behind different closed doors he catches glimpses of pre-sleep conversations: couples spitting harsh whispers to each other, a few cartoonish voices reading bedtime stories to an audience of childish giggles. But when he reaches the threshold of his destination Seungcheol stumbles into an entirely different atmosphere.

“You haven’t told him yet?”

“No. I didn’t feel like the kind of thing to say over text,” you whisper.

“Well you could have called him!”

“And say what? ‘Hey Cheol, I know we haven’t talked in months because we got into a huge fight about my boyfriend but Johnny and I–’”

Seungcheol strains his ears to hear the rest of your sentence but fails to decipher anything before Jeonghan’s voice cuts in. Whatever ‘it’ is, you seem keen on keeping it a secret.

“Just tell him.” Jeonghan says through a mouthful of something. “I’m sure he’ll be happy.”

His mind races with a million possibilities, all related to Johnny, all things you wouldn’t have told your best friend of over twenty years because of some stupid fight. Something you don’t know how to tell him over the phone, something you need to tell in person.

The realization strikes like lightning.

You and Johnny are engaged.

Thirst forgotten, Seungcheol turns back the way he came. He thinks through the new information as he stumbles up the stairs.

How could you not tell him? How could he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him? How long have you been hiding this? And why did Jeonghan and Sofie know before he did? Was everyone in on the secret and he was the odd man out?

You and Johnny weren’t even that serious when you moved away; or, that's what Seungcheol thought. In all honesty he fully believed it was some joke when you told him. A drunken practical joke taken too far but you didn’t laugh when he did. There was no punchline to share. The boxes were packed away and then the moving truck came and you left with it.

Everything else hits him in the seclusion of the bedroom. Your shared room. He doesn’t even have the luxury of coming to terms with your latest surprise in private.

Seungcheol isn’t happy. He is, but because you’re you, argument aside. The past few months are the longest you’ve ever gone without each other and seeing you again lifted a weight off his chest he’d come accustomed to in months of silence.

It’s an easy decision. If Johnny makes you happy enough to tie your lives together then Seungcheol can bite his tongue. You’re his best friend and by default he’d never think anyone was good enough for you but if you loved Johnny, if you were this serious about him, then Seungcheol would support you.

Even if it meant there would always be a Johnny sized ravine between you.

Seungcheol wakes far before the sun breaches the horizon. The room still washed in the shadows of early dawn grants him some peace to think over his own conflicts with the news, your quiet snores a backing track from across the bed.

On your side facing him, Seungcheol gets the first good look at you in what feels like forever. Even with the size of the bed barely a foot of space separates your bodies. You hand twisted in the hem of his shirt like even in your sleep you can’t stand to be apart more than necessary.

You look ridiculous; hair a mess and limbs splayed. But your face is soft in sleep, eyelashes fanned on your cheeks and lips in a pout.

There’s an odd flutter in his stomach. He wasn't lying when he said he missed you. But now things are complicated.

He hadn’t slept at all last night; mind constantly replaying the conversation he heard in the kitchen, formulating his reaction when you finally let him in on the ‘surprise.’

Perhaps under different circumstances he wouldn’t struggle with news. Seungcheol wants you to be happy. Johnny is the problem in the scenario. They never got along, barely spoke outside of the few times forced circumstances required them to. Seungcheol was polite. Johnny was polite.

Seungcheol wanted to kill him and he’s certain Johnny felt the same.

Relationships naturally take priority over time but Johnny seemed to creep in and choke Seungcheol out of all the places he’d been firmly planted for years. Another reason he isn’t happy.

Monday night Bachelor? Canceled, because Johnny plays beer league softball with his friends and you started going to that.

No more sleepovers at Seungcheol’s after a night out because ‘it makes Johnny uncomfortable.’ Fair complaint. Seungcheol wouldn’t appreciate his girlfriend sleeping over at a guy's house after drinking if the roles were reversed. But Seungcheol isn’t some guy and you were his best friend before you were Johnny’s girlfriend.

Traditions at Christmas felt hollow without you. The first one you spent meeting Johnny’s family in Minnesota you texted Seungcheol the entire time about how cold it was, how they were a 5k on a holiday type family despite the fact there was three feet of snow outside.

All small details that mean everything to Seungcheol, never meant as much to you.

And that’s why he doesn’t like Johnny. Because he made Seungcheol realize that.

It’s not that you and Johnny didn’t work. Seungcheol just couldn’t wrap his head around why you wanted to overlook all the glaring differences to make it work.

But pointing that out left him with a cold shoulder lasting six months so he plans to keep his mouth shut.

You tried talking to him before bed but gave up when he pretended to be asleep. It took everything he had not to give in and talk into the early morning. Six months was more than enough ground to cover for you two to catch up; he was promoted, you had an entirely new life in another city that he wanted to hear all about. His insane neighbor from across the hall, who you both are sure sells drugs, is actually a preschool teacher (mysteries of the universe). And he knows you probably have kooky neighbors of your own in New York.

But, in all honesty, he didn’t want to hear stories with Johnny’s name attached. Wasn’t ready to hear you say you’re engaged. It’s one thing to know it. But the second the words leave your lips then it’s real. Then Johnny is here to stay and it's only a matter of time before you two are arguing again.

Especially when everything said months ago was still fresh in his mind. Words he’d stand by no matter what. But Seungcheol has figured out that there are conversations he’s allowed to have with you and ones that should never see the light of day if your friendship is to survive. Johnny is one, the other is a memory from college that remains vivid no matter how hard he tries to forget.

But this weekend wasn’t about you and him, it's about Sofie and Jeonghan. If Seungcheol can dive into focusing on them, maybe he’ll survive.

Today is the one day reserved for sightseeing before ‘the inevitably disorganized shit show of an Italian wedding’ as Sofie puts it.

Seungcheol has already seen some of the big things thanks to his study abroad in undergrad: the Colosseum, the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon. So for today, he'll stick by whatever you want to do. You’re the building nerd architect.

When he finally finds the willpower to roll away, carefully extracting your grip on him before ducking from the sheets, you stir enough to release a sleepy whine in protest before burying back under the blanket.

It’s odd but he notices you’re not wearing a ring. Seungcheol looked closely if you took it off before bed but nothing stands out in the bathroom or on the dresser. He assumes you took it off to make the weekend about Sofie and Jeonghan rather than yourself. It’s something you would do. Or maybe it’s at the jeweler’s for repairs. Maybe Johnny had gaudy taste and bought a ring so flashy you refused to wear it.

Seungcheol doesn’t know but it strikes him as strange.

The kitchen is already bustling with life even at such an early hour. Family and friends trickle in one by one, joining Seungcheol at the table with cups of coffee and munching on fruit and biscuits as their hangovers ebb. Quickly, the peace he preserved in the early quiet melts into loud laughter and a million buzzing conversations.

You melt into the chair beside him, eyes barely open as you snag his cup and scowl after finding it already drained.

“Coffee?” you mumble.

Seungcheol pushes his plate of unfinished fruit and a half finished pastry you way. “Sofie’s mom is brewing more. But it’s strong.”

“Oh trust me, I know,” you say around a mouthful of jam and dough. “I drank a full cup the first day I got here and felt like Sonic.”

“That’s how you know it’s good.”

“You’re insane.”

“What are your plans for today?”

“So there's this church, the Santa Maria Sopra della Minerva. It’s near the Pantheon!” you ramble, peeling another orange. “It’s just beautiful and it's got a statue by Michelangelo next to the altar and the design is incredible.”

Seungcheol can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm. A city filled with ancient buildings and history is right up your alley.

He remembers how you pouted when he came back from his trip in college after yours to Venice was canceled due to ‘not enough student interest.’ The only thing that managed to quell your anger was all the pictures Seungcheol took with you in mind. Close ups of the tiniest details about ancient designs tour guides pointed out to disinterested business majors but he knew you’d care if you’d been there. If you were there then you’d probably be leading the tour yourself whether the guide liked it or not.

“Mind if I come with?” he asks over his fresh cup of coffee.

“Duh,” you roll your eyes with a smile. “I waited for you to get here to go.”

Sofie’s uncle, the one not under threat of murder by his wife, agrees to drive you both out. He drives at full speed from the second he hits the gas pedal. With the windows down. The breeze is as nice as a wind tunnel and cuts off everything Zio Berto tries to point out except for his screams at other drivers.

On the other side of the back seat, you’re turning green. Seungcheol is glad the window is already down because if you get sick, he will too. And Sofie would refuse any payment for the cleaning fee, Seungcheol is morally opposed to ruining such a nice car with vomit.

The city whips past outside the windows, cobblestone streets slowly growing more crowded as the car edges closer to the center city. Berto finally slows down to avoid pedestrians and mopeds but only by a fraction. He doesn’t seem to share Seungcheol’s concern about body fluids clashing with the car design.

Finally, after what feels like a century, the car jerks to a stop. You don’t even pretend to be polite and exit immediately, hands on your knees while dry heaving for air.

“I’ll be around. Have fun!” Berto calls from the driver's seat. “Call me when you’re ready to head back.”

Seungcheol waves him off and when he turns back where you were standing, you’re already gone; circling the elephant obelisk in the center of the cobblestone courtyard.

“Isn’t it so cool?” You gush, snapping photos.

The exterior of the building is unassuming. Flat sandstone brick without much detail but you see the things that are important. In a few minutes you’ll be in tour guide mode, pointing out the smallest crack no one would see unless they already studied the church's history in depth.

“Soooo cool,” he jests. He appraises the statue with you, turning his head this way and that.

You slap his shoulder, “Don’t be a jerk!”

“Okay, okay. Give me the tour.”

“It was built on the ruins of a temple of Isis.”

“Okay, and why the elephant?”

“The obelisk was taken from the Church of San Stefano del Cacco down that way,” you point. “It's originally from Sais in Egypt but got moved all the way here. The elephant was commissioned by the pope to display it based on a book that was popular at the time.”

“Interesting.”

You point at the inscription on the plinth before continuing, “that’s from the book.”

Sapientis Aegypti insculptas obelisco figuras ab elephanto, belluarum fortissima, gestari quisquis hic vides, documentum intellege robustae mentis esse solidam sapientiam sustinere.

“Whoever you are, who sees here the figures of the Egyptian wise man carved on the obelisk carried by the elephant, the strongest of wild animals, understand the symbolism to be that a strong mind supports firm wisdom,” you translate.

“I didn’t know you read latin.”

“I don’t. It’s in English on the other side,” you laugh. “But I do know, the guy who designed the statue made it look like it's farting because the pope told him to change the design from what he originally wanted.”

“Really?”

“Yep. He said having it stand on four legs was dangerous so the sculptor added the saddle and a cube at the base, but he also made its butt face the convent so the friars would have to see its ass every time they came out.”

“Wow.”

Seungcheol circles the statue and sure enough the tail is angled to look like it's blowing wind.

“I’m pretty sure it’s a lie but I’d like to think people were that petty hundreds of years ago. Now all people do is subtweet and post vague Instagram stories. I want someone to hate me so much they design an entire statue just to minorly inconvenience me each morning.”

You’re fully of facts Seungcheol would never know. It’s one of the best parts of visiting places with you. It’s not just some building or some random statue. You give the architecture a new life.

Seungcheol’s mind flashes back to the first time he accompanied you and Johnny to a monument back home. In the five minutes you’d been there, he realized Johnny truly did not care about your interests.

The look on your face that day told him you realized Johnny didn’t care either.

It’s the same pact everyone that moves to D.C. makes to visit all the museums and monuments and landmarks. Good intentions with zero realistic goals. Except you’re stubborn and the drive to say you did something means Seungcheol has tagged along to thirty out of the one hundred and fifteen on your list. Johnny missed most either from work trips or some other excuse and the one Seungcheol missed had been the only one Johnny came to because of the flu.

Safe to say the first time visiting together was a shit show. Johnny didn’t pretend to evaluate the ‘important’ parts, didn’t ask questions or bother reading the placards detailing events of significance, raced through the entire thing to leave you and Seungcheol behind. It’s not like you or Seungcheol were overwhelmed with beauty and needed hours but Johnny finished his round after less than thirty minutes and told you to text him when you were done.

So Seungcheol did the only thing he could to get back at Johnny without upsetting you: walked as slow as possible, pointing out things he knew you’d know more about, and dragging things out so Johnny was stuck waiting in the frigid winter wind outside to suffer.

You knew what he was doing, obvious from the way you hook your arm through his and give an affection squeeze. Your smile didn’t reach your eyes but you both pushed through.

Thank whatever powers be that Johnny wasn’t here now.

“See the windows?” you ask, pointing to the three different sized circular windows hanging over the main doorways.

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Well you can’t tell from here but they’re rose tinted.”

Seungcheol tries to see what you’re talking about but the windows are dark and covered in some kind of lacquer that makes them look gray and dusty rather than pink.

“And why is that important, Professor Y/L/N?”

“Because it’s the only medieval church in Rome like that!”

You continue rambling off facts, talking a mile a minute as your point at different things and walk Seungcheol around the exterior. A few other people's ears perk up as you go on about how the details had been done over and over; first Romanesque, then Gothic then, some guy named Carlo Maderno added Baroque designs inside, and friars who put in stained glass windows.

By the time you take a breath, the crowd has taken a closer interest in the windows and the elephant statue due to your brief history. A few look at the flood plaques which are some of the best preserved records the city has.

Seungcheol hangs onto every word. He doesn’t care about the old church, it’s an interesting bit of history sure but he could be outside any church in Rome and have the same reaction. He cares about the church because you care. And your passion about old windows and flood markers make it the most interesting place in the world right now.

“Go stand on the steps so I can take your picture,” you demand.

“Do I have to?” Seungcheol jokingly complains.

“Just go.”

Seungcheol poses as you direct, flashing a few silly poses you laugh at. He manages to wrangle you into taking a few photos as well. Ones that will probably be sent to your mom and never see the light of day other than her Facebook. Your Instagram is reserved for, in order: buildings, animals, food, and the rare picture of you with friends at some sort of occasion (wedding, graduation, the time Jeonghan broke his leg drunk on a city scooter and ended up in the ER).

You’re in the middle of pretending to hold the Leaning Tower of Pisa when someone approaches Seungcheol.

“Would you like us to take your photo?” an elderly woman asks. She is a quintessential tourist: fanny pack, camera around her neck, sun burnt around the ears. A man in a matching shirt approaches with her, donning the same gear and pink tinge. Seungcheol recognizes them from a few minutes prior when you gave your lecture about elephant butts and petty sculptors.

“Sure, thank you.”

He hands over his phone and joins you on the steps. You both pose like normal adults, smiles plastered on your face while Seungcheol gives you bunny ears and you pull his hair.

“Beautiful couple!”

“Oh, we’re not…” You both object.

“We’re on our second honeymoon.” The man croons at his wife, chuffed when she rolls her eyes and focuses on the camera screen. “You two?”

“We’re here for a wedding.”

“Wow! Married in Rome,” the wife gasps. “How romantic.”

It isn’t the first time you two have been mistaken for a couple. Anytime you’re with him or Jeonghan someone assumes you’re dating. Occasionally, you’d play it up, make an entire story about how you met, how long you’ve been together, biting your tongues the entire time as each detail is more ludicrous than the last.

Jeonghan takes the cake as the most ridiculous. Two tornado chasers that ran into each other ten years ago and never let go. Him and Seungcheol, not you. Which really threw the waitress off. Never mind the fact you all were sophomores in college, high as kites and stuffing yourselves full of hashbrowns in a greasy spoon diner for Seungcheol’s birthday.

“Did you two meet here?” the husband asks.

“Oh no, we actually met in a competitive bowling league,” you fib, wrapping your arm through Seungcheol’s.

What the hell?

“Romantic!” The wife belts like she actually believes nothing could inspire love like sharing shoes with countless strangers and cheap beer.

Seungcheol would take the piss under any other circumstances. Except this time you’re actually engaged and the last time you two pretend to be a couple was when you fake proposed to him in a fancy restaurant to score free champagne and dessert to celebrate the end of law school.

“Would you mind taking a few of us?” the man asks.

You snap a few pictures on the wife’s phone and after more coos of ‘romantic!’ and a few thank yous they melt into the crowd.

“Alright, let's go inside.”

“Lead the way.” Seungcheol feels more awkward than before, cheeks red but not from the sun beating down

Upon entering the church, he discovers the inside is much more interesting than the outside. Holy water stoups are held up by marble. Two statues flank the entrance. There’s more things to see than Seungcheol’s brain can handle but he follows behind you, mind lingering on the scene outside.

“‘My husband’?” Seungcheol asks.

“What? We won’t see them again. Who cares?”

Probably your own fiancé but just as Seungcheol opens his mouth a priest silences him with a sharp, “SHH!”

Passing through a high stone archway, you enter the nave. The ceiling, cobalt and gold with motifs of biblical figures and cherubs, rises high above.

“Look!” you whisper. “Isn’t it cool?”

Your point at a marble Jesus wearing a bronze loin cloth.

Cool isn’t the word he’d choose but he goes with it.

“Michelangelo started it but two other people had to finish it for him.”

“Oh.”

“But people still call it Michelangelo’s statue because it’s more impressive. Besides, he did most of it before his apprentice took over.”

He observes the paintings and statues, the stone work that bulges from the walls like they’re trying to come alive and escape their immortal capture. There’s even a tomb and shrine with incredible detail.

It takes two hours to see everything and another thirty minutes to make your way out of the church because you both keep catching missed signs or there's some tiny piece of the ceiling with an odd detail.

He missed this.

Outside, you open your phone and look at the message from Sofie. She made the recommendation to come down here and gave an extensive list of everything else to be done in the area. There’s so many options it would take at least a week to see half of them.

“This hotel has a rooftop restaurant that’s supposed to have a good view of St. Peters,” you say.

The restaurant would have a great view of the city, if it wasn’t shut down for renovations. The staff don’t even let you near the elevator before you’re both swept outside and back on the street.

“Well…” Seungcheol starts.

“Should we call Berto?”

He doesn’t want to. Partially because Berto’s driving might kill him and also because he doesn’t want to end his time with you just yet. One of the things he missed about you living in the same city was weekends in museums for hours. Now that he has it again, he hesitates to cut the time short.

“Wait, I think we’re near one of the parks we visited when I came in college.”

“Oh my god,” you gasp sarcastically. “Did you study abroad? I never knew!”

“Shut up.”

Seungcheol pulls out his phone and dials Berto’s number. “Hey, Berto. No, we're good, everything is fine. But I was wondering how far away is Villa Borghese from us? Oh really? Would you be able to come drop us off? Awesome. Thanks man.”

“Well?”

“He’ll be here in five.”

Five minutes turns into fifteen and in that time Seungcheol burns out. Jetlag and the dull thrums of city streets make him sleepy. You sit in front of him on a bench outside the church. He thought he was better at hiding it but he’s pretty sure if he sits down, he’ll fall asleep.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask once Berto arrives. “We can go back to the house if you want.”

There’s an unofficial official itinerary for today.

Anything before four is fair game. After that there is a welcome cocktail party at a fancy restaurant in the city one of the De Luca’s family friends own.

If Seungcheol doesn’t go home now then it’ll be a close call to nap and shower in time. Not that Sofie is exceptionally punctual about things like that but Seungcheol is.

“I don’t want you not to see stuff just because I’m tired.”

“Cheol, I’ve been here all week with Sofie and Han. I promise this was the only thing left on my list of stuff to do. Anything else would have been a bonus.”

“Only if you're sure.”

“We can always come back again. I’m pretty sure Sofie’s mom is decorating a room for me.”

Yeah, because most men are fine with their fiancée taking international trips with another man. Not that you’d listen or Johnny has the balls to say something about it. But Seungcheol knows the chances of coming back here together, like this, are slim to nonexistent.

“Alright. But you can’t bring it up in an argument.”

“I can and I will.” The corner of you mouth twitches as your head shakes before opening the back seat for him. “Now get in the car, old-timer.”

Seungcheol falls asleep on your shoulder in a blink. Berto is quiet (or the open windows drown him out enough that Seungcheol can pretend) and the heat of your body next to his lulls his heart. It’s not a peaceful rest and his neck is killing him by the time Berto pulls into the driveway, but it’s nice.

Seungcheol beelines for the bathroom while you slip into the kitchen. Something about centerpieces or napkins or tablecloths; he isn’t really sure but Sofie’s mom says it's urgent so he goes upstairs alone, showers in record time, and dives under the covers.

His dreams are filled with blue and gold elephants, He wakes to the sound of your voice blended with the sound of water.

You’re singing. More so humming some off key melody that bounces off the shower tiles and echoes straight into his brain. It drags him in that liminal space between waking and dreaming where anything is possible. Maybe he’s still dreaming. Of you and him, back when you shared an apartment and things weren’t so complicated. When there weren’t secrets and omissions and he didn’t have to bite his tongue.

His eyes stay closed, refusing to budge until the last minute.

The shower turns off but the humming continues, louder now that you’re out of the bathroom and collecting your things.

You must think Seungcheol is still asleep because when his eyes slit open, only enough to decipher your hazy silhouette, you’re in nothing but a towel. A very very tiny towel that hides nothing but the necessary bits and even then only barely.

He can’t wake up now. Not when you bend over to look in your suitcase for Seungcheol closed his eyes just in time. But it doesn’t stop his brain from latching on to every sound in the quiet of the room; the humming tickling across your lips, the wet thump! of your towel on the ground. Oh god, now you’re not even wearing a towel.

Seungcheol won’t be that friend. He never has. Or has always tried not to be. But teenage hormones make a young boy’s brain untamable so it’d be a lie to say he’s never thought of you like that. But despite his feelings, Seungcheol has made sure they never became a factor in your friendship.

Even though there is a peace of his soul that will always belong to you.

So he pretends to be asleep, forcibly controlling his breathing while you shuffle around the room none the wiser to his rising predicament.

Finally, you disappear back into the bathroom to change and Seungcheol’s lungs stretch with air until they burn.

You look pretty. Objectively. You glow in the late afternoon sun pouring in from the window, a ditsy floral print dress of orange and cream that hugging your figure; delicate collar bones on display under the flimsy straps and the column of your neck bare save for the necklace you’ve worn everyday since your parents bought it for your sixteenth birthday.

“C’mon sleepy head,” you whisper.

Seungcheol is thrilled his gawking is easily disguised as jetlag.

He changes in the bathroom. Taking a moment to grip the sink, his reflection stares back in the mirror. It’s the exhaustion and dehydration making his brain muddle. Nothing to do with you or him.

It’s fine. Everything is perfectly fine.

The downstairs foyer is in complete chaos but Sofie commands the room like she always does from the top of the stairway.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen. Are you ready?” She yells like a WWE announcer.

Cheers rise up from the gaggle of adults. Cousins, friends, parents, aunts and uncles. Most of them Seungcheol has never seen before and is pretty sure neither have Jeonghan or Sofie but it’s fine. The more the merrier.

Except when different cars end up filled to the brim and you end up sitting on Seungcheol’s lap instead of a seat.

His heart leaps with every bump, yo

ur hair flying into his face and leaving the sweet smell of perfume to flood his senses. Seungcheol can’t even think about that because Sofie’s Zia Linda puts her husband's driving to shame.

At some point you nearly fly out the open window–Why does no one believe in keeping the windows up?– and Seungcheol is forced to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you from ending up a part of the cobblestone road.

“Sorry,” you say. The squeeze at his arm tells him your thankful at least something is stopping you from becoming roadkill.

“It’s fine.”

If you notice his strained breath, you don’t say anything.

The rooftop restaurant is gigantic but with everyone it feels small and crowded. Below, all of Rome spreads out. Lights twinkle in the distance and the moon is heavy overhead, ready for a night of revelry. It’s a welcome party so things are casual, finger foods and drinks flow heavily while everyone mingles.

Sofie and Jeonghan laugh at their own table, holding court with family and friends that flood in and out with congratulations. They’re good at it. Jeonghan ventures on the more introverted side but Sofie could have a meaningful conversation with a pile of rocks.

You're off at another table, talking with Soonyoung and Seungkwan, a second glass of wine in hand. Laughter rings out and he feels drawn to it like a siren call. It was foolish to worry that the scar from Johnny wouldn’t heal over eventually. All you two needed was time.

Seungcheol barely leaves your side during the party. You dance and drink and dance some more until you’re both left in a heap at the same table by the dance floor. Soonyoung and Seokmin provide ample distraction, taking to the floor to do…something Seungcheol hesitates to call dancing because it resembles a child's idea of a circus.

Dancing, food, and wine leave him feeling loose and sleepy. You’re not much better, head on his shoulder and hand tangled with his across your knees.

“Cheol?”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

His shirt is unbuttoned, sleeves rolled high. In the back of the car on the ride home, you trace the muscle of his forearms draped over your waist until it lulls him to sleep.

Back at the house, you, Sofie, Jeonghan, and Seungcheol throw out sleepy goodnights and I love you’s before retreating to your separate corners of the house. Jeonghan is technically staying in a room in the same wing as you two (Sofie’s house is big enough to have an east and west wing which still shocks him). Something about family tradition and bad luck for the wedding but Jeonghan follows his fiancée like a shadow to her room at the opposite end of the house without theatrics.

And then there’s just you two.

You lean on each other the entire walk up, like you need the other support or you’ll crumble to the floor and sleep there. Honestly, it’s not a bad idea. Seungcheol has slept in worse places.

The stairs present their own challenges. You go first, Seungcheol right behind in case you fall backwards which has happened enough times that it’s become a habit to walk this way when alcohol is involved. But it doesn’t solve the issue of you tripping up.

Which you do with an effortless lack of grace on the last step.

“Oh, shit!” you giggle.

Seungcheol laughs so hard his knees buckle and he flops on the floor next to you like a dying fish.

“Shhh!” you slur, finger pressed to his lips. “People are sleeping.”

But you're cackling now and he can’t breathe from the painful quaking laughter rooting in his belly. He’s on his back, and you prop up on your arm to loom over him. Twin smiles breaking your faces, eyes watering with drunken mirth.

You go silent first, tracing his features silently like they must be committed to memory. Seungcheol does the same. You’re exactly the same as the day you left. Except for the vacation glow from being here for the past week. He recognizes all the parts of you he’s known for a lifetime. The silver scar on your chin from learning to ride a bike and crashing into a tree. The color of your eyes. The blush of your mouth.

The finger pressed to his lips traces along the plump flesh, then his chin, then it circles the back of his head and you’re ducking down.

Alarms go off in Seungcheol’s head screaming:

DANGER! DANGER! THIS IS NOT WHAT FRIENDS DO! DANGER!

“Wow, it’s late,” he laughs horsley as he rolls away and to his feet.

You jump away, dazed for a second before laughing as well. “Yeah, let’s um…let’s go to bed.”

He can’t quite read your expression. Several emotions swirl across your face but Seungcheol can barely look at you without feeling his face heat so he doesn’t linger.

Seungcheol takes the bathroom after you finish, rushing through his night time routine in sober silence.

You're drunk. That’s the only reason you’re trying to kiss him. Or he had something on his mouth and you can’t find the words to tell him. It was a mistake. A momentary lapse of judgment that didn’t mean anything.

It wasn’t even a fraction of an almost kiss. Your noses barely touched, it doesn’t count.

When he comes back into the room, you’re curled up on the bed in your pajamas asleep.

Seungcheol circles to the other side, slipping under the covers and getting comfortable. The room feels smaller after what just happened. But it wasn’t a big deal. Nothing happened. You both were drunk and missed each other. You never would have kissed him.

Despite the fact the first, and only, time you two kissed was in very similar circumstances.

Rolling over, you find him and cuddle into his chest. Seungcheol opens his arms for you on instinct.

“Did you have fun today?” you ask into his collarbone. The vibration of your voice tickles but it’s dulled from Seungcheol’s heart thudding wildly.

“Yeah.”

His hand smooths the back of your hair, down your back. You readjust, throwing a leg over his own and pulling him in tight.

“Good,” you say around a yawn. “Me too.”

Seungcheol tamps down the piece of him that wants to indulge in this. Just holding you, pretending things outside the door don’t exist and it’s just you and him and no one else.

But he can’t do that.

“You know,” he starts. “I’m happy for you no matter what, right? You and Johnny…I’m happy for you.”

Seungcheol waits for a response that will never come because you’re out cold, snoring against his chest.

You’re still asleep when Seungcheol wakes around noon. Sometime in the night you shifted to the far side of the bed, taking the blanket with you. He doesn’t try to wake you, still confused at exactly what happened last night.

Seungcheol isn’t naive. He knows what women look like when they want to be kissed, when they're thinking about how his mouth will feel against theirs. Usually he revels in it; loves the flare to his ego, the chance to tease before giving in.

But to see the expression on your face sent him into a panic. He’s seen it once before, indulged in it, and it ruined his life for the better part of college. Lips parted, eyes glassy as you stared. All the telltale signs were there: the lift of your chin, hands twisted in his shirt, eyes drooped low.

And the worst part was you did all that despite having a fiance waiting back home none the wiser. Even if Seungcheol couldn’t stand Johnny, he’d never do that. Never allow you to do that.

Even if he wanted nothing more than to feel your lips on his.

He heads as far away as he can. Turns out it’s down stairs for breakfast. Sofie is at the kitchen table, typing on her laptop.

“Morning,” Seungcheol croaks.

“You look like shit. Wild night?”

“Just some old timers thinking they’re twenty one again.”

“What assholes.” She laughs. “How's Y/N?”

Seungcheol freezes like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. Sofie couldn’t know what almost but certainly didn’t happen in the hallway last night. “She’ll probably need an exorcism but she’ll survive.”

“By the way, I meant to give her this last night but everything was crazy. Can you pass it off? Jeonghan and I have to take my grandma to lunch and she’s already called twice sooooo…”

“Yeah, go. Have fun.”

Sofie is up and out before he can blink, a tiny piece of cardstock left in her place.

Kira Long

Artisan Jeweler

Her social media and number are at the bottom but Seungcheol doesn’t need more information.

He hides around the villa most of the day. Catching up with the guys around the pool, feigning fatigue when you come out to join. The gardens are big enough for him to disappear into for a few hours before he needs to go and get ready.

Unfortunately, that also means you are getting ready.

A leg.

That’s all Seungcheol sees when he opens the door.

Your leg specifically, propped on the dresser while you apply lotion in nothing but that damn skimpy towel designed to torture him.

“AH!” you shriek, shocked by his sudden entrance.

“I’m sorry!” he shouts.

The fabric unravels around your chest and suddenly you're naked and Seungcheol is not looking.

“What the fuck? Have you ever heard of knocking?”

He’s not.

“Why are you naked?”

The ceiling is very interesting.

“Because I wanted to scare you.” you scream sarcastically. The door to the hallway is still open. Seungcheol either stays in with you or goes back out because it can’t stay open much longer. He makes the fatal mistake of locking himself inside with you. “Because I thought you’d knock, you fucker! Jesus fucking Christ, turn around.”

Seungcheol saw you naked.

He hides in the bathroom like a wimp until it’s time to leave.

—

It’s a short walk to the church down the street for the rehearsal ceremony. It’s all a blur given the million and one things flying through his brain; most of them you. You in your towel. The fact you’re engaged. You looking at him like you’re dying to be kissed. The fact you’re engaged. How everyone has assumed you’re a couple this entire weekend and you’ve played along. The fact you are engaged to a man that isn’t him and Seungcheol can’t help but feel bitter about it for a completely different reason than he ever thought he would be.

Luckily, the ceremony is only planned to last less than an hour. He knows he isn’t subtle but he tries to grin and bear it for his friends. He can see the same sentiment in you. Your smile doesn’t quite fit but Seungcheol can’t think about what it could be about.

“Do you take this man…”

Was it his rejection? It wouldn’t make sense if it was. You’re his best friend but not even that dictates cheating. You weren’t the type; in your own words cheating was more pathetic than ghosting someone as a form of break up.

He doesn’t get it.

“I always love you even though you sleep like a princess, my love,” Sofie gushes.

“And I’ll forgive you for snoring like an old man, love of my life.” Jeonghan fires back.

They’re saving their real vows, the one Seungcheol helped Jeonghan with, for the ceremony. Even with all the confusion swirling in his head, he can’t wait for Sofie to hear what Jeonghan has in store.

The priest is less than impressed but moves forward like he can’t wait to have them out of his congregation as fast as possible.

“Okay, and you two leave and the wedding party follows…”

Seungcheol offers his arm to the Maid of Honor, Maria, guiding her back down the aisle where Jeonghan and Sofie bicker. You follow with Seokmin, break away the second it's polite with some excuse about needing the bathroom before you dissolve into the crowd.

The dinner is back at the house. The outside is lined with chairs crowded around tables covered in exploding bouquets and candles. Family members and friends weave to and fro, drinks and food flowing heavily.

You’re talking to Seokmin in the corner of the courtyard, a glass of wine already in your hand as you laugh along to whatever the other man said.

“So Sofie said you’re a lawyer?” Maria asks.

“Yeah, that’s how we became friends. I actually was the one who introduced her and Jeonghan.”

“Wow, so you’re a lawyer and a matchmaker.”

Seungcheol laughs at the compliment. Introducing Sofie and Jeonghan had been a complete accident with unintended consequences. “I wouldn’t say that. I thought Sofie would strangle him the first time they met.”

“Oh, I heard all about that. When Sofie told me they started dating I thought she must’ve meant a different Jeonghan.”

Maria makes good company through the first rounds of drinks before dinner is served. She takes his focus away from you, how your leg presses against his under the table. She grew up down the road, went to school with Sofie all the way through undergrad. Her boyfriend, Jihoon, is a surgeon back in Seattle while she works in marketing. Unfortunately getting time off for a second year resident verges on impossible so he couldn’t come to the wedding.

“You two are so cute together, how long have you been dating?” Maria asks before taking a swig of her drink.

“Oh we’re not together,” Seungcheol corrects swiftly.

You give a tense nod of agreement.

“Really?”

“Yep. We grew up together. She’s like my sister.”

He sounds like an asshole. The words are bile but there can be no room for incorrect interpretations. This weekend had been nothing but confusing so far. Seungcheol needs to set himself straight on where he stands with you.

“Oh,” Maria nods. “Okay. So Y/N, are you dating anyone?”

“Actually I—”

Your response fizzles out because Jeonghan’s dad rises from his seat for a speech.

“I want to take a moment to express my deepest appreciation to everyone here this weekend to celebrate Sofie and Jeonghan. I remember the first time he told us about her, how happy he was and thought ‘oh this poor girl doesn’t know what she’s gotten herself into’.” There’s a smatter of laughter throughout the room. Sofie leans into Jeonghan’s shoulder and he places a kiss on her temple. “But then I met Sofie and I can say, without a doubt, there are very few people more perfect for each other than those two. Sofie, welcome to our family.”

Dinner passes, course after course and more wine until Seungcheol physically can’t have any more. You and Maria hit it off, rambling about Jihoon’s two cats and the abandoned kitten that hangs out around his work he’s trying to bribe into coming home. You barely look at him during the conversation but he prefers it.

Dessert comes with coffee and then everyone dissolves. Some stay around the tables to chat and drink and laugh, others help clean up. But Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and the groom's party head for the back gardens, Seungkwan already queueing up the song for one last practice.

It’s tradition, in southern Italy at least, for the groom to serenade his bride-to-be the night before their wedding. Seungcheol couldn’t believe Jeonghan was planning to go through with such tradition but he’s seen the man do more for Sofie than he thought he was capable of so it shouldn’t come as a shock.

The warm summer air does good for his mood, as does laughing with the guys when Soonyoung and Seungkwan get into a wrestling match after debating if they step-shuffle for three or four counts. But they all agree with four because it’s easier to remember.

The top floor balcony at the front of the house turns out to be Sofie’s room. The light floods out of the open doors, and two sets of giggles pour down to where they stand.

Jeonghan cups his hands around his mouth and calls, “Juliet, Juliet! Let down your hair!”

“That’s not the saying.” Seungcheol corrects.

“Shut up, I’m talking to my wife.”

“That’s not the saying!” Sofie laughs from above.

You and Sofie peek over the side of the iron terrace, grins already splitting your faces. You knew what was happening. It’s why you whisked Sofie away with whatever distraction you could think of while the men gathered outside for a quick last minute dry run. Something about broken heels and needing to borrow a pair of shoes.

“Sofie Cosima De Luca, you are the love of my life.” Jeonghan yells. He’s drunk on love (and a lot of champagne). “I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow. I just hope after this you still want to marry me. Hit it!”

The obscenely large speaker Seungcheol carried out starts humming the instrumental to Sofie and Jeonghan’s song. The very one Jeonghan drunkenly serenaded her with in a dingy bar, back when she didn’t believe he could handle a serious relationship and he was hopelessly wrapped around her finger.

“I’ve got sunshineeeeeeee on a cloudy day…” Jeonghan croons.

“Oh my god,” Sofie cackles.

Everyone else joins in, harmonizing in the back along with the choreo Seungkwan and Soonyoung came up with. A simple side step with occasional jazz hands (much to Soonyoung’s tipsy dismay). “I guess you’d say what can make me feel this way?”

“MY GIRL,” Jeonghan belts his line, smiling dumbly.

You’re watching the shenanigans unfold, smiling as well. But while you're looking at everyone else, the only person Seungcheol can look at is you; the way your eyes gleam in the moonlight, your chin tipping back to laugh when Jeonghan’s voice cracks. You’re breathtaking. For a brief moment, barely a passing thought in the roaring river of his brain focused on his cue to sing and side step when needed, Seungcheol imagines what it would be like if you two were the only ones around.

Chalking it up to the moment, Seungcheol thinks about anything else as they finish the performance.

The music dwindles away and all that's left is Jeonghan staring up at his future wife as the rest of the group takes exaggerated bows. Other guest peek from windows or the edge of the drive way, cheering loudly.

“Bravi! Bravissimi!” Sofie cries as you both clap. “Can I make a request?”

Jeonghan nods like an eager puppy in response.

“Sing the Thong Song!” you both request through giggles.

“That's for after the wedding.” Jeonghan winks.

Time for Seungcheol to do his best man duties and prevent Jeonghan from making a complete ass of himself. "Alright Casanova, let’s go.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Jeonghan calls over his shoulder, fighting against everyone ushering him away.

“Don’t be late!” Sofie demands.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

After returning Jeonghan to his room for the night, Seungcheol heads back to his completely unprepared to see you again. Too many feelings swirl in his head. Feelings he thought he finally left back in college.

He remembers only a few key events of his early childhood. When he lost his first tooth, when he broke his arm for the first time, and his soccer game at four years old when Jeonghan and he rubbed dirt in each other's faces and rolled in the grass instead of playing. But other than that, his life has been distinctly divided into two parts: before you, and after you. He remembers when you marched into the first day of second grade with a sparkly blue bookbag much too big for your little body. You went to the front of the class, introduced yourself loud and proud, and then looked around the room like you were daring anyone to say something back.

And like any other childhood friendship is made, you sat at Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s table and asked if they wanted to be your friend. Without even considering the options, they both agreed. From then on out you’d always been Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and YN. Friends in elementary school, all through middle school, and even into the far reaches of highschool when Seungcheol played sports all year while you and Jeonghan did theater. It never occurred to any of you to be apart. Until Jeonghan stayed home to attend university in your hometown. And then it was Seungcheol and YN. Jeonghan came to visit when he could and vice versa. But at university it was you two against the world.

The first time Seungcheol realized he liked you was in third grade after you dumped chocolate milk on Jeonghan’s head because he put a bug in your lunchbox. He married you on the playground and made mud pies to celebrate. And then in high school when Seungcheol realized you weren’t just a girl but a pretty girl and the hormones of his teenage body latched onto that fact and plagued his dreams with the information.

And he never did anything about that crush because he knew it wasn’t worth losing you to act on those silly notions. They passed just like he thought, melted away as time went on and you both dated other people.

But that night freshman year of college…

It doesn’t matter.

Because you have a fiancé and Seungcheol is happy for you.

The sound of running water echoes from the bathroom as Seungcheol enters your shared room. At least it delays the inevitable awkwardness.

Or he thought it would.

“Hey, Cheol?” you call from the door.

“Yeah?”

“I forgot my clothes. Can you bring them to me?”

“Ugh, yeah.” Seungcheol scrambles for the pile of clean pajamas at the corner of the bed, snatching them up and stepping closer to the door that separates you. “Here.”

Mind caught on other things – like not remember that he caught a glimpse of you make last night, barely a second, no real detail except creamy skin and details his brained filled in on its own accord to his own chagrin – Seungcheol trips over his own feet and slams into the piece of wood head first.

The only thing stopping the door from flying straight into the wall is you.

“Shit!” you exclaim following a ricocheting ‘thump.’ “What the fuck, Cheol?”

Clutching his forehead, Seungcheol is oblivious to the tangle of limbs you’ve both collapsed into.

“Fuck, sorry.” He blinks against the stark brightness of the overhead light. You’re clutching at your face, hands cupped around your nose and eyes filled with tears. “Here let me see.”

Your eyes crack open enough to glare at him, narrow and rimmed red. As if he didn’t feel awful enough.

Without a second thought, he strokes across the curve of your knee soothingly. “I won’t touch it, I just wanna make sure it isn’t broken.”

A hand shakenly falls away to unveil your perfectly fine nose. Seungcheol tips your chin up, moving in for a closer look just in case. But everything is fine. You’re not even bleeding, just a runny nose that definitely hurts worse than it looks.

The initial rush of panic ebbs only to be replaced with awareness. Seungcheol is kneeling between your legs, your towel is definitely too short, and the beads of water caught on your collarbone are down right taunting him. He needs to get away.

Now.

“Oh my god,” he gasps, moving back.

Your face morphs into horror at his tone. “What?”

“You’ve got a huge bat in the cave.” Seungcheol rises to his feet, offering you a hand up while ignoring the way your chest struggles against the tie of the towel as you come to your feet as well.

“Fuck you,” you laugh, pushing him away. “Give me my clothes and get the fuck out.”

Seungcheol does just that. As the lock latches back he’s left alone with nothing but thoughts of you.

He remembers. That night you two have never spoken about. And probably would never discuss even under the threat of life and limb. A drunk kiss, in the stuffy bar that didn’t care if your IDs were fake as long as you had money.

Seungcheol remembers the way you felt in his lap, the taste of your mouth, the breathy whine against his lips when he first pulled away from the kiss. Maybe that last detail was a hallucination but it felt real. The heat of your body haunted Seungcheol for the week after it happened.

Not even Jeonghan knew about it.

And he’d rather die than open that can of worms. The first time Seungcheol had a crush on you in high school, he swallowed those feelings and never let them see the light of day. Because you’re his best friend, his longest friend, and if it was between the risk of losing you from his feelings (that he was certain would fade eventually despite the fact they never have) or keeping you in his life, then he’d stay silent if it killed him.

It’s your turn to disappear the next morning. You’re side of the bed is long cooled by the time Seungcheol’s alarm goes off, a piece of him gone with it.

His dreams hadn’t helped. A faceless woman, not even sounds or sights or tangible things he could identify. But he knows the feeling. That alluring warmth of a body firm against his own, the kind that leaves him aching when he wants up. Seungcheol knows it's you. It’s the same images that have plagued his subconscious since adolescence when he’d wake up to messy boxers and the inability to look you in the face for days after.

Feelings he’s long suppressed came out last night. Seeing you in the window, in the bathroom, it’s all too much. And now it chases him into sleep; the one place he thought he might have peace.

Luckily your absence means there's no awkward explanation of why he’s hard. The trip to the bathroom is more of dejected desperation than eager need. Seungcheol hops into the shower and takes care of it, careful to keep his thought as abstract as possible or risk you popping up in his fantasy. Dreaming about you is damning enough. He doesn’t need to add to the guilt weighing on his conscience.

The rhythm of the water lulls his brain into a cycle. He can’t do this. He can’t go another minute

He can’t even survive Jeonghan’s wedding. How he will sit through yours with a grin will be a true test of his acting ability.

But that is future Seungcheol’s problem. Right now he needs to get through today and then tomorrow and after that he’ll be on a plane back home where he can ruminate in the isolated confines of his apartment.

He just needs to focus on one thing at a time.

Right now, it’s getting downstairs in the next ten minutes or risk losing tee time with Jeonghan and the other groomsmen.

There’s only two people he’d ever turn to in a time like this, except he can’t talk to either of them because one is the problem and the other is getting married in a few hours. The last thing Jeonghan needs is to hear about an issue between his two best friends.

Which is why he’s the first to pick up Seungcheol’s mood.

“You look like shit,” Jeonghan greets.

The other mill about the kitchen, snagging leftover pastries and fruit. Usually Seungcheol is the first to show up, not the last. But Soonyoung still seems to be missing.

“Thanks.”

“Rough night?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Well if you’re tired you can always join the girls at the spa.” Jeonghan offers. “Sofie said they’re doing mud baths.”

The wedding isn’t until this afternoon leaving the entire morning free. So the boys play golf while the girls go soak in mud.

“That sounds…horrible.”

“I know,” Jeonghan nods. “Alright gentlemen, let's head out.”

Seungcheol eats shit the entire morning. He usually scores around seventy five but he’s destined to break well over a hundred today and even Jeonghan pretends he doesn’t notice.

“Do you ever think about why nothing happened between you and Y/N?” Jeonghan asks right as Seungcheol prepares to swing.

Kicking a man when he’s down is more of a guideline for his best friend rather than something to avoid.

Seungcheol’s shot flies wide, straight into a fairway bunker a good thirty yards behind everyone else’s ball. He watches for another solid minute, deflating. “No.”

“If you’re gonna lie, at least make it believable.” Jeonghan chides, setting up his own tee.

“I��m not lying.”

“Humor me. It’s my wedding day and I’m trying not to freak out.”

“You’re freaked out?”

“Dude, of course I’m freaked out. We’ve never gone more than a few hours without talking since we started dating and I haven’t seen her since last night. So just let me focus on something else,” Jeonghan sighs.

Seungcheol thinks about his next words wisely. Jeonghan can smell bullshit a thousand miles away, and playing mind games right now feels a little unfair. “I don’t wonder why nothing happened anymore.”

“Lying again but whatever.” Jeonghan grabs for his drive and lines up the shot.

“Why are you asking?”

“I don’t know. Everyone thought you two would end up together eventually and then you didn’t. I’ve got a lot of people asking and I wanted an official response because you’re not exactly subtle and she isn’t stupid.”

Jeonghan’s shot lands square on the first cut, fifty yards ahead of Seungcheol’s ball.

“Yeah, well.” Seungcheol huffs. “If she noticed, she never said anything.”

“Okay but did you ever say anything?”

Jeonghan hands his club over to his catty before they start towards their respective zones. Seungcheol and his friend trailing behind.

Seungcheol argues. “You just said I wasn’t subtle?”

“You aren’t,” Jeonghan snorts. “But Y/N is about as impressionable as rock.”

“Did you think something was gonna happen?”

Seungcheol reaches his ball first. All the other guys are further ahead but Jeonghan sticks by.

“No.” Jeonghan says. “But I know you kissed her.”

Seungcheol turns to the other man, mouth gaped in shock. “How the fuck did you know that? Did she tell you?”

“I KNEW IT.” Jeonghan points at him like a little kid tattling on his friend. “ I fucking knew it! Sofie owes me fifty bucks.”

“What?”

“Y/N is a better liar than you, I’ll give her that but I knew something was off that first week I came to visit. I knew you didn’t have the balls to sleep with her so I must have been something else.”

Jeonghan asked you if you remember the kiss. Jeonghan and Sofie know you kissed. You remember the kiss. But you never said anything. If that doesn’t solidify Seungcheol firmly in the friendzone then nothing else would.

“You made a bet with your fiancée on whether your best friends kissed or not?” Seungcheol shakes his head in disbelief.

“You’ll understand when you have a successful relationship.” Jeonghan touts.

The catty hands over Seungcheol’s driver. He looks about Seungcheol’s age, maybe younger, and by the look on his face he’s trying very hard to pretend he isn’t listening to the unfolding drama.

Another person to witness how hopeless he is. Great.

“It doesn’t matter. It was a mistake.”

“You never know,” Jeonghan shrugs, following his catty further up the fairway and ending the conversation.

Back at the house, you’re nowhere to be seen while Seungcheol showers and changes. It’s for the best. No sleep, a horrible golf game, and now all the feelings that returned over the weekend have left him with nothing but a foul mood.

Every step is dragged out so he doesn’t have to pretend you two are fine. He can’t afford another blow out right now because today is meant to be for Jeonghan and Sofie. Even if Jeonghan thought he should talk about it, Seungcheol couldn’t do it anymore. He wouldn’t do it anymore. But the time it takes leaves his head spinning out of control.

You’re pretending nothing is wrong. Cuddling up to him, calling him your husband. You nearly kissed him. You would’ve if he didn’t stop you. You always said cheating was worse than heartbreak but now here you are, capitalizing on his feelings for whatever satisfaction you selfishly crave; using Seungcheol to hurt your fiancé in secret. Who you seem dedicated to pretending doesn’t exist.

It’s a nasty cycle. Feeling used, disbelief of who you’ve turned into in months away, that piece of him that always craved something more with you flowering only to wilt because it’s not real.

You don’t want Seungcheol.

You never have.

The wedding party gathers outside the church. Sofie is tucked away in a private room until her grand entrance. She wanted everyone to be surprised, leaving her bridesmaids to mingle with the groomsmen until it was time to for the ceremony to start.

The lavender bridesmaid dress is nothing special. A tie at the top keeps the entire thing up, the front void of any details. The open back adds a flash of skin but other than that there isn’t much to it. But you’re wearing it and Seungcheol can feel his heart jerk as the fabric flows around your curves. The universe is taunting him with what he’ll never have.

He doesn’t stare despite the fact that every time he blinks his gaze automatically searches for you. It’s hard to ignore the only person he sees in a crowded room. Even if he’s pissed at you.

You excuse yourself from Seokmin, creeping over to where Seungcheol stands with a grin. “You clean up nice.”

“Thanks,” he nods.

“Is something wrong?’

A shot of annoyance flashes through him. Now is not the place. Last time he felt like this, you two got in a screaming match on a snowy sidewalk. “No.”

You shake your head, hand coming to rest on his arm in an act of comfort. “Are you sure? Because you’ve been acting weird.”

Betrayed by his own body. Half of him wants to get on the next flight home and block your number so he can forget all of this. It wouldn’t work. The times tried anything remotely of the sort only leave him in circling thoughts day and night.

The other half of him wants to wrap you in his arms and take whatever you're willing to give him. The half that could act like Johnny didn’t exist, at least not in this little bubble where nothing else exists but you and him. Because he's selfish and he’s been in love with you for years and he would never expect something in return for his feelings but he can’t take it any more.

But he can’t pretend anymore.

Pretending he’s never been jealous of your boyfriends, and that the night in college when you kissed meant nothing. That it didn’t flood his brain everytime he looked at you; that it didn’t leave more questions than answers. He’s been pretending everything has been fine, that seeing you asleep on his chest doesn’t make his heart hurt, and that he was stronger than the temptation to kiss you last night.

He remembers that night with clarity despite how drunk he was. Thought it meant you felt the same way he had for years.

“Cheers to finally being adults!” you scream, tequila shot raised over head.

Seungcheol laughs. Nothing is that funny but he’s nineteen and drunk in a dingy college bar with his best friend . “Adults!”

Someone passes by and knocks you forward, straight into Seungcheol's chest where you keep laughing as you look up at him.

You’re close. Closer than ever before. He could count all your eyelashes if there weren’t four of you floating in his vision. But Seungcheol doesn’t need to see clearly. Not when you’re already kissing him.

He’s kissing you.

It’s sloppy and drunk but his brain doesn’t think in big picture. It’s all feeling. Your hand in his shirt, a sweet sigh against his chin when you break away for a second just to come right back. Your mouth tastes like alcohol and lime and he’s never had anything better sweep across his tongue.

Thank god for the booth because you’re in his lap now, grinding against the seam of his jeans until he’s hard and when you finally realize you say his name.

And then Seungcheol pulls away, turns his head, and vomits before blacking out.

He hates that he thinks about it. He thinks about it all the time. What if? But there’s no more what ifs. There's only right now. Just you and him and the widening space in between that's become unnavigable.

“I’m acting weird? I’m not the one rubbing herself all over me, calling me her husband to strangers, and trying to kiss me.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I can’t believe you would do something like this. Why would you put me in this position? Do you think it’s funny?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m happy for you, really. I just think it’s best if we don’t talk for a while. I think you need to sort things out with your fiance.”

Now that seems to get your attention. “Seungcheol, what—”

The music swells from the organ inside, cueing the ceremony and effectively silencing your questions.

Good. It’s better that way. Seungcheol is weak for you in all the ways that matter and he knows if he had to stand there for another minute then your hurt expression is all it would take for him to fold and pretend he never said anything.

You join the other bridesmaids and Seungcheol ducks inside the church after the wedding planner opens the doors. One by one the other groomsmen walk in: Joshua, Seungkwan, Soonyoung, and finally Seokmin. Each line up further down Jeonghan’s side. Then the bridesmaids follow.

Sofie’s cousin, who Seungcheol met once, glides down the aisle followed by another taller cousin who looks nearly identical. Then it’s Sofie’s roommate from college, Mona who Josh had been trying to get with all weekend.

You walk up the aisle, a smile plastered on your face but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You won’t look in his direction.

Everything is slipping through his fingers and you both have to pretend they aren’t.

Everyone turns to watch Maria, and then Sofie. But the only person Seungcheol is paying attention to is you.

The ceremony flies by. Sofie cries, Jeonghan cries.

Sofie cries even harder when Jeonghan recites his vows in Italian. It’s odd, watching his two friends who usually are the couple laughing in the corner, be so vulnerable. Declaring their love for each other in front of a few hundred people.

“Sofie, sin dal primo momento in cui ti ho incontrata, sapevo che ti avrei voluta nella mia vita per sempre. Che tu mi amassi o odiassi, per me andava bene, perché significava che avresti pensato a me tanto quanto io pensavo a te. Mi hai dato il privilegio di chiamarti mia, e non posso aspettare di farlo per il resto delle nostre vite.”

Six months of using Seungcheol as practice, along with Sofie’s cousin, and he sounds decent. Jeonghan wouldn’t win any awards for his language skills but everyone’s faces melt around the room. Even the people that don’t know a word of what he’s say can feel the earnest dedication he has to Sofie. Even Seungcheol gets misty eyed.

“Io, Jeonghan, prendo te, Sofie, come mia sposa e prometto di esserti fedele sempre, nella gioia e nel dolore, nella salute e nella malattia, e di amarti e onorarti tutti i giorni della mia vita.”

“I, Sofie, take you, Jeonghan, as my husband and promise to be faithful to you always, in joy and in pain, in health and in sickness, and to love you and every day honor you, for the rest of my life.”

Then they kiss and Sofie screams something along the lines of “we’re married, bitches!” much to the priest demise before exiting the church.

From there it’s chaos.

The entire wedding party is corralled for endless pictures while everyone else heads back to the villa for the reception. You don’t look at him and Seungcheol refuses to acknowledge you until your parents are forcing you two together for awkward pictures like its high school prom.

By the time it’s over and he gets to the reception, the party is in full swing and the sun is setting.

Dinner is a blur. He makes his toast, short and sweet like Jeonghan told him to. The night progresses and people flood the cleared area serving as a makeshift dance floor in the center of the courtyard.

Seungcheol sips his wine. Three glasses in an hour because he isn’t sure what to do with his hands when his obligatory dance with Maria is over and he’s avoided being dragged on the floor by one of Sofie’s more zealous aunts because she herself demands a dance.

“How does it feel to be Mrs. Yoon?”

Sofie turns to watch Jeonghan twirls her great grandmother. Or more like Nonna Cosima leads him. She’s surprisingly spry for someone pushing triple digits. “I think he’s gonna be a great first husband.”

His gaze settles on you, Seokmin leading you across the floor in a ridiculous fashion. The younger man is trying hard to make you laugh and it seems to be working.

“She thinks you’re mad at her,” Sofie says.

“Maybe I am.”

“Care to share with the class?” She prods but Seungcheol doesn’t break, using the ending of the song to find a table at the edge of the makeshift dance floor. “Fine, but I feel like if you’re gonna pout at my wedding I should at least know why. Especially because I owe Han fifty bucks because you can’t lie to save your life.”

Seungcheol is mad. But mostly at himself. For tricking himself into thinking maybe, just maybe, there could be something more. That in all the improbable universes you returned his feelings, this would be one.

And he did all that knowing you’re dedicated to someone else who is so entirely wrong for you.

“What did she tell you?” Seungcheol asks.

“That’s not how this works. No pay, no play.”

He studies Sofie for a minute. She’s good at keeping her cards close but she knows about you and Johnny. It wouldn’t be a far leep to assume she knows about everything else.

“God, you sound like Jeonghan.”

“Have you and Y/N talked? Like, really talked, since you got here?” There's a weight at the end of that sentence but Sofie doesn’t elaborate.

“Care to be more specific?” he asks, grabbing for another glass.

“I’ll take that as a no then.” Sofie takes the seat beside him.

His chest tightens. This is it.

“About her and Johnny?”

“So she did say something…” Sofie fishes.

“No she didn’t. But I heard you guys in the kitchen the night I got in.”

“You did?” she gasps. “And you didn’t say anything to her about it?”

His jaw ticks in annoyance. “What’s there to say? ‘Congrats on your engagement, you’re too good for him’? I don’t think that's what she’d wa—”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Sofie throws her hands up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. All around the party continues. “You think Y/N is engaged? To who?”

“Johnny! Who else?”

Her drink sloshes over the sides of her wine glass, narrowly missing the white gown and falling to the cobblestone. “Oh my god, you’re an idiot!”

“Excuse me?”

“She’s not engaged, you dipshit,” she goes on. “Oh my god, you’re both so stupid. I told Han, I told him we should’ve said something.”

“What?” he says quietly.

Sofie continues as if Seungcheol hasn’t spoken at all, “I can’t believe she hasn’t told you.”

“Told me what?”

“She broke up with him!”

She broke up with him. She (you) broke up with him (Johnny). You and Johnny are done. It’s like he’s hearing the news from underwater.

“She broke up with him.” He repeats dumbly.

Someone cheers and then applause follows but Seungcheol is lost in his mind. You and Johnny aren’t engaged. You two aren’t even dating. Haven’t been.

“When?”

Sofie’s face softens. She knows. The first time he introduced you to Sofie she assumed you two were dating. She didn’t like Johnny for a lot of the same reasons Seungcheol did, but also because she thought you two were meant to be together. “A week after she moved.”

That phone call the week after you moved. It must’ve been something to do with you and Johnny. But why didn’t you answer messages the next morning? Why would you break up with Johnny and then refuse to tell him? Why would you let Seungcheol think he was being used as the other man?

“So this entire week…”

“She was supposed to tell you. I told her to tell you months ago but does she listen to me? Nope.”

“Do you know why?”

“Now that is something she needs to tell you.” Seungcheol looks where you're dancing with Seokmin. Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes but you laugh when the man dips you almost to the floor and struggles to lift you back up. “But first you need to apologize.”

“Is it that bad?”

“When I imagined someone crying at my wedding it wasn’t because of you.”

Seungcheol winces, “She cried?”

“Yep. You owe me a nice ass wedding gift for that one.”

“Sofie, I’m sorry I—” he tries to apologize.

“Cheol, don’t worry about it.” She pats his arm. “It was actually a nice distraction from the insanity this week.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“It really is.” Sofie rises from the table, snagging a glass of champagne from a passing tray. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my husband owes me a dance. And Cheol?”

“Yeah?”

“You should tell her how you feel.”

Seungcheol takes his chance at Sofie’s departure. With the change in music Seokmin bows out and you're left on the dance floor alone. Cast in the soft glow of garden lights and candles, you’re tragically beautiful. Soft around the edges in a dreamy haze. Seungcheol feels like he’s intruding by approaching you but he needs to apologize before you both return to your separate corners of the country tomorrow night.

“Hey,” he greets.

You look at him apprehensively, eyes dark, before speaking. “Hi.”

You’re just as petty as Seungcheol so he knows if you’re speaking to him then there's some kind of hope he hasn’t completely ruined your friendship. But it could also mean you’re about to rip him a new one in front of everyone for not the first time in his life.

Hopefully, it’s the former.

“Mind a walk?”

“We’re at a wedding.”

Jeonghan and Sofie curl tightly around each other at the center of the courtyard. It’s clear from the way both their faces soften, lax grins reaching their ears, that the world has stopped spinning just for them.

“I’m pretty sure we could light them on fire right now and they wouldn’t notice. Besides, Sofie gave me her blessing,” he jokes but you don’t laugh.

“Fine,” you say before stalking towards one of the paths leading to more secluded parts of the house.

People drape across different parts of the villa as you two walk in silence to find some privacy. The gardens are full of chatting elders, kids running around in the dark or falling asleep in some adults' holds. After ten minutes with no luck at seclusion, Seungcheol has half a mind to go back to your room and talk it out but he doesn’t. The idea itself freezes his blood.

It’s not until you're deeper into the maze of shrubs and bushes that the voices and music fade. The silence is so tense he might shatter under the pressure.

You whip around to face him, still five paces ahead.

“What did you want to talk about?” you deadpan.

Seungcheol thought through every thing he wanted to say, all the questions and whys and what ifs he’d collected during this trip but they abandoned him now that they have the chance to be answered. Instead, all that comes out of him is a shaky, “I’m sorry.”

You wait for him to elaborate but he doesn’t. He’s apologizing for more than he could put in words and he’d list them off until the sun comes up if he starts now.

“Okay. Is that all?” you ask.

“Sofie told me about Johnny.”

You blanche. “She did?”

“Yeah, she did.”

“What did she tell you?” your arms draw tightly around your center. Like you’re holding your heart from spilling out your chest.

Seungcheol regurgitates the limited facts Sofie shared, which is that Johnny hasn’t been in the picture for months and you never deemed him worthy of that information.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I tried. But you didn’t answer your phone and I felt so stupid afterwards and… I just couldn’t do it.”

It hits a nerve deep in his heart. How could it have been easier to spend months pretending he didn’t exist then tell him your relationship ended? More anger slips through. The nasty kind that makes him say things he doesn’t mean but Seungcheol tries to reign it in.

“So you just ignored me and thought that’d solve all our problems?”

“No!’

“Then why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I moved cities for a guy I didn’t even like that much! I changed my entire life for him just to prove a point. Because you were right about him and I was wrong and only took a fucking week to realize that after I screwed everything up. I should have listened to you but—”

“So you lied to me because you didn't want me to say ‘I told you so’?” Seungcheol fumes. “Are you serious?”

“I didn’t lie to you!” you object.

“Yes you did! You stopped talking to me for months! Months. I can’t even remember we went a week without talking but you dropped off the face of the planet,” he rants. “I thought you were happy in New York with Johnny but apparently I’m the last to know anything. If you had just told me I wouldn’t have said anything. I would have gone up there and moved you back home myself.”

“I don’t want you to fix my mistakes!”

“Then what do you want? Because from where I’m standing I have no idea. All week you’ve been acting weird and because you didn’t tell me I thought you were using me to cheat on your boyfriend. How do you think that makes me feel?”

“I didn’t mean to. Things just kept happening and I got swept up before I could tell you.”

Seungcheol was nothing more than a meaningless distraction, a rebound.

“So it didn’t mean anything to you?” he asks.

“No!” you cry. “I was just distracted.”

“Distracted? Are you serious?”

“You know what? Forget it. You don’t want to listen to me, you just want to be mad and yell.”

You’re right. Seungcheol does want to be mad and yell and pull his own hair out because what you’re saying isn’t helping untangle the knotted mess of his brain. It’s making it worse. Your confessions are watering that seed of hope in his chest despite the fact he knows nothing will ever happen. Even with Johnny out of the picture.

“Why did you break up with Johnny?”

“I—” Your eyes close. Pulled tight like you’re finding the courage to tell Seungcheol some dark secret. “He…” you swallow. “I broke up with him because…”

Seungcheol tenses, prepared for the absolute worst. You moved your entire life for the guy and broke up with him a handful of days later. There had to be a reason. “Because why? Did he do something?”

“No!” you correct. “I wish he did, I probably wouldn’t have felt like such a bitch but he didn’t do anything at all. I just realized we didn’t work.”

“You didn’t ‘work’?”

I told you so, indeed.

“Yeah. It’s kinda difficult to be with someone when you're in love with someone else,” you reply.

Suddenly, Seungcheol wishes he never brought it up. Another guy. One that isn’t him. Again. He’s the other man. Those gut feelings, the nagging voice at the back of his head that reminded him time and time again you couldn’t feel the same has its own ‘I told you so’ moment.

But that’s not what makes him feel horrible. He’d suffer from overthinking as long as needed just so you wouldn’t look so ashamed.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Seugncheol waits for you to elaborate. More silence except for the crunch of your shoes across the stone walkway. A bench comes into view and you slip into one of the spots before speaking again.

“I…I always wondered why those dates never worked out. Like, I would like someone but then they didn’t want the same things or they’d want the same things but I didn’t want them. And I guess Johnny was my last ditch effort because maybe if I knew from the beginning things weren’t gonna work out then I’d never be disappointed.”

Seungcheol isn’t sure what to say so he stays quiet.

“And I thought I could just live with it. Knowing I didn’t have what Jeonghan and Sofie have. Like who actually gets that in their life? But…”

“But?”

“But then I realized that there was only one guy my whole life that’s actually been everything I wanted and I was comparing everyone to him.”

“Who?”

“You.”

Him. You’ve compared every guy you’ve dated to him. He’s the person you want, the man you’ve measured everyone up to and found them wanting.

You’re in love with Seungcheol. You broke up with your boyfriend for Seungcheol.

You love him back.

“It’s fine, if you don’t feel that way about me. I’m okay with it. I wasn’t planning to tell you because I expected anything. I just… part of the reason I didn’t say anything is I know you don’t think about me like that but this week I thought— I don’t know what I thought. But I didn’t want to lie to you anymore.”

“You…what?”

“Let’s just agree to pretend this never happened, okay? We should get back to the party.” You move to rush past him but Seungcheol hooks an arm around your torso, light enough you could break through if you really wanted to but you stop all the same.

There is no way in hell you drop that bomb on him and leave him to deal with the aftermath alone.

His voice is unrecognizable to his own ears. “You broke up with Johnny because of me?”

“Yeah,” you swallow. You refuse to look at him, focusing on the neatly clipped grass your heels sink into.

“Because you’re in love with me.”

You flounder. It isn’t a question. It’s a fact.

“How long?” Seungcheol presses.

“What?”

“How long have you been in love with me?”

“It's always been you.”

Seungcheol’s heart detonates into a million pieces.

“You?” His pulse is sprinting. You’re in love with him. Have been. Maybe as long as he’s been in love with. Impossible for it to be longer because there's no moment in time when Seungcheol didn’t carry his feelings for you like an old friend. “You didn’t say anything.”

Your eyes are wet again, more tears he wants to brush away but he can’t do anything but stare. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“You wouldn’t have,” he whispers back.

“What's supposed to mean?”

Your nose brushes along his, eyes soft as you glance at his mouth.

Seungcheol won’t let himself kiss you yet. He can’t. The first time he feels your lips on his in years has to be in private because he shakes at the idea of it, a part of him chips away from just imagining even the most chaste brush. But mostly because he��s terrified that once he starts, he knows he won’t be able to stop.

“Do you remember that night in college?” he asks. You’re stunned speechless by the abrupt shift in topic but the words fall out of his mouth before he can think of a better way to say what needs to be said. He continues, “when we did a million shots and you kissed me?”

You snap back, slapping a hand on his chest and nearly teetering to the ground. “You bitch! You kissed me!”

“So you do remember!”

“Of course I remember,” you declare. “I thought you didn’t remember.”

You remember. You remember how his mouth tasted, how you ground into his lap, the feeling of his hands on your ass. All of it sticks with you like it stuck to him.

“Trust me, I remember.”

“Well, why didn’t you say anything?” you huff.

“I was going to but you told me you started dating whatever-his-name before I could.”

“Because I thought you didn’t like me back!”

“I’ve liked you since the first day I met you.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“You should’ve said something.” The admonishment means nothing. Not with the way you smile at him. It makes his heart soar, hope bursting at the seams.

“I didn’t even know you realized I was a dude until college, why would I say something?”

“Trust me, I knew you were a guy way before college.”

“And we’re back to the original question: why didn’t you say anything?”

It's ridiculous. Utterly comical and unimportant of who said what when because they’re being said now and Seungcheol never has to pretend he isn’t hopelessly in love with you ever again.

You cozy up into his chest, fingers tracing the collar of his shirt. “Wow, barely five minutes we’re already fighting.”

“We’re not fighting.” His lips burn the word into your hairline, arms wrapping around your frame so his fingers can finally, finally, trace the bared skin of your back.

“Oh really?” You laugh. “Then what are we doing, oh wise one?”

“We’re having a spirited conversation over the fact you kissed me and never said anything.”

“And now we’re fighting over whether or not we’re fighting.”

“We’re not fighting.”

“You’re exhausting.” Your eyes roll. He can’t see it, not with how you duck into his neck, but he knows you did it. Because Seungcheol knows you better than anyone else.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“And you kissed me.”

“Well then there's only one way to settle this.”

“Which is?”

Seungcheol doesn’t answer. If Jeonghan could be lit on fire and not think of anyone but his wife, then the world could fall to dust and the only thing on Seungcheol’s mind is the way your mouth feels against his.

It’s light at first. Airy because you’re both still laughing over arguing if you’re fighting or not. But then Seungcheol loses his balance and you help by curling a hand around his shoulder but refuse to stop kissing him and the world blinks out of existence for a second.

All the cliches start making sense. Two halves of a whole, puzzle pieces slipping together, all the things poets could say in a million more eloquent ways than him.

But Seungcheol feels at home for the first time in his life.

It’s not easy maneuvering a full grown woman up and into his lap. It’s especially not easy because you’re you and you’re more stubborn than anyone he’s met in his life which means you object to every step, huff and puff at a brief second of broken contact, but the second he spins you around and drags over his lap you melt.

Your tongue glides along his, sending a tsunami of want through his bones. You whimper. Or maybe he does. Seungcheol can’t tell what's up and what's down right now. He finds the open back of your dress and relishes in the arch of your spine, the choppy breath he can feel beneath his palms.

The silk bow holding your dress up teases his hand as Seungcheol traces the notches of your spine. No one would see. No one except him and the moon and the stars who’ve all stopped to watch. He wants to. God, he wants to but he doesn’t.

You tug at his hair and your name floods his tongue like a curse.

Draped across his lap in nothing but thin satin, you can feel all of him. How his cock hardens against the back of your thighs, shaky breathes in his lungs wrecking into your own chest. You're not wearing a bra. None of that tape or the sticky thing you’d leave hanging in the bathroom when you lived together. Seungcheol knows because he thumbs over the soft swell of your chest and you respond with a rock of hips that leaves his mouth watering.

The last time he kissed you, that fateful night freshman year of college, Seungcheol thought about it every night for months. He thought about it in the shower, in his bed. His mind would wander towards the memory during class and when he walked around campus.

Now he’ll think about this for the rest of his life.

A shrieking laugh almost sends you to the ground in haste to break away, but Seungcheol catches you in time.

“Um…” you choke. Your lips are swollen, eyes a little dazed.

“We should go back inside.”

“Yeah.”

“Just, give me a minute.”

“Why?” Your smile grows steadily as you press more firmly into his predicament.

“I have an issue right now.”

“What kind of issue, Cheolie?” you stare at him through your lashes, finger tracing down the front of his shirt until you reach the button of his pants.

“Oh God,” he grunts as the heel of your hand rocks into him. “You’re actually evil.”

Your lips trace over his jaw, sucking and nipping at the lobe of his ear until he shudders. “Don’t you want me?”

“I do,” he breaths. “Shit.”

His hand squeezes across your ass, your breasts, mindful of how much freedom you’re giving him. To feel you like this, to touch you the way he’s wanted to for years.

“Then have me,” you moan.

“Don’t say stuff like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to fuck you right here.”

“But I do want you to fuck me.” Your hand is in his pants. “Right.” A tight squeeze on his cock. “Here.” He ruts into the next one.

His insides spark with a hot kind of electricity at the idea of you jerking him off where anyone could see. But he wants to touch you. And that he doesn’t want anyone else to even imagine. He’s shared you enough with the world.

Seungcheol wants a piece of you that's just for him right now.

“Fuck, okay. Stop.”

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re going back inside.”

“Oh?”

Seungcheol doesn’t give into your obvious goading. It’ll just waste more time. Give you another chance to wring him out to dry and he knows if you get his pants down far enough it’s game over for the both of you.

He rushes you through the garden, all but dragging you behind him in his haste to get you somewhere secluded. He’d settle for a broom closet at this point. Anywhere he can have you alone.

But you won’t go down without a fight.

You slow to a near stop, whining, “My feet hurt.”

Seungcheol leads you back over another stone bench, immediately kneeling and grabbing your ankle. The pebbles of the path dig into his knee but the slit of silk revealing your bare legs is a good distraction.

“Alright, Cinderella. Let’s get these off,” he jokes. The buckle is delicate and keeps slipping from between his fingers no thanks to your help.

“I can do it myself!”

You try to kick him off but Seungcheol catches your calf easily. Instead of focusing on the teasing stretch of skin, he watches the way your nose wrinkles indignantly after thwarting your attempt to catch him off guard. You’re cute. Probably because he’s in love with you and the rush from knowing you love him back has him feeling a million miles tall.

“Cheol?”

“Yeah?”

Pulling your foot into his lap, Seungcheol brushed his fingers against the knob of your ankle. The tiny buckle that refuses to come undone. Your shaking doesn’t help much.

“Cold?” he asks.

You nod furiously. Warmth hangs in the air but Seungcheol won’t assume your comfort; the silk you're wrapped in doesn’t provide much coverage against the elements. It doesn’t provide him any protection from a wild imagination fueled from years of pining. Without a thought, he shakes off his jacket and hands it to you before moving back to your shoe.

Looming over him, Seungcheol feels your breath hit his forehead. He wants to look up but you’re too close. Too tempting.

He finally undoes one shoe, then the other. But you don’t say anything and neither does he from his spot between your legs. It’d be easy. So easy to bunch your skirt around your waist, part your legs, and make you cum on his finger. Then his mouth. Then his cock.

You’re thinking the same thing. A hiccup of breath rustling the hair on his forehead, your hands stroking the muscles of his neck give you away.

But when he starts, he knows he won’t be able to start. He’ll want nothing less than all of you. Give all of himself to you. If you’ll have him.

But a hard stone bench isn’t the place to worship your body the way you deserve. He’d be a gentleman. Even if it killed him to wait any longer. You were worth waiting for. Seungcheol would wait a million more lifetimes if he got to feel like this again.

No shoes means he’s carrying you the rest of the way. He’s done it before and you’re not that heavy but he’s been drinking. And then there's the matter of all the blood in his body heading south, so he struggles more than usual.

“You’re sure you’ve got it?” you cling on for dear life when he nearly stumbles under the first step.

“Sorry, I haven’t been carrying a lot of full grown women around lately.”

“I thought you were looking a little small,” you goad.

“Small?” he objects.

“Yeah, small.” You squeeze over his biceps and his chest like you two aren’t sneaking around a packed mansion where anyone could stumble by. His resolve slips further out of reach at the dig of your nails. “Been skipping the gym lately?”

He feigns dropping you, laughing when you scramble for hold under threat of falling flat on your ass.

“Asshole!” you laugh.

Things fizzle back to comfortable silence. Your companions are far off laughs and the loud music from the courtyard. The garden is all but abandoned, not a single soul in sight. It makes it all too tempting to find another bench and take up what was interrupted earlier. The heat of your breath against his ear with each giggled whisper didn’t help. Neither did the warm weight of your thighs in his hold or the firm press of your chest against his back.

It’s a mistake to look over his shoulder. Your eyes shine in the moonlight as you stare back, a smile lifting the corner of your lips.

Seungcheol focuses back on the hallway, double checking for any passersby. There’s nothing indecent about a man giving a woman a tipsy piggy back ride.

But there is something entirely inappropriate about how hard he is while doing so.

And Seungcheol knows you know. Or if you don’t then the universe has a personal investment in his suffering. Every step is more difficult than the last because your thighs squeeze around his torso, and your hands find their way down his chest, and then there’s the giggling every time he back tracks because a drunken guest stumbles by on the way to their own room.

You’re sneaking around like two idiot teenagers and it might kill him from lack of blood to his brain.

But Seungcheol wouldn’t have it any other way.

He pauses at the last staircase to catch his breath. There’s no reason you’re still on his back other than the fact he doesn’t want to let you go and the position is the only reason he hasn’t found a dark corner to do whatever you please yet.

“Awww poor Seungcheol, tired already,” you coo.

Your teasing tone makes his blood boil, worse how you readjust your hold with more squeeze and stretching that leaves him with nothing but horribly inappropriate thoughts of what you’ll do after he gets up the stairs.

Finally, the hallway housing your room appears and he can’t get through the door fast enough.

You're pressed flat between the door and his body in a blink, fully at Seungcheol’s mercy as he kisses you again.

“Wait,” you mutter.

Seungcheol sucks along your bottom lip. You pull him closer, arching into his chest. Your stomach is soft against the gentle grinds of his cock. He doesn’t want to wait anymore.

“We—hmmm,” you sigh. “Need to talk about this.”

Seungcheol pulls away from your mouth, trailing scorching kisses down your neck that leave you shivering. “What about it? I love you, you love me. Feels like that's all there is to it.”

The second he says it, Seungcheol knows he’s wrong. But he doesn’t want to think about the fine details. He’s never done long distance but you’re only a train ride away.

“Cheol.” You prod a finger into his collarbone until he dips back.

“I mean it’ll suck being in different cities but it’s not forever right? We’ll figure it out.”

You dip your chin. “I’m not staying in New York.”

“Oh. That’s—” he cups your cheek, pulling your gaze to his. “I’ll go wherever you need me.”

You smile up at him and everything goes blank. In that moment, he vows to do anything you ever ask if it means you’ll keep looking at him like that.

“I’m moving back to D.C.” You kiss the words into his palm, eyes never leaving his.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You smile. “Sofie’s friend needed a roommate and my job agreed to let me go remote so…”

“When do you move back?”

“Two months. They want to wait until the busy season is over.”

“But then you’re back. For good?”

“For good.”

It feels like you're promising a whole lot more..

You have Seungcheol for good too. As long as you want him, he’s yours. Probably for long after too.

He’s so happy, it burns across his skin. It can’t be contained. This is all real. He fights the urge to pinch himself because not even in the wildest of his dreams did he think this was possible.

"When you come back home.” Home he thinks. Home with him. Where you belong. “We're going on a date. And you're going to let me pay, and woo you, and take care of you because I love you. Okay?”

Your hands twine around his shoulders before you respond with a nod, “Okay.”

In the privacy of your room, you’re the one that tugs the knot holding your dress up. The silk slips down your chest revealing inch after inch of what he’s only dreamed off. When it pools around your waist, Seungcheol almost falls to his knees.

You shiver in the cool bedroom air. His eyes drink in the way your nipples peek under his gaze. Every inhale shakes in your lungs and he thinks this might just be enough for him to die peacefully. The silk trickles like water down your figure until you're left standing in nothing but skimpy panties.

“Fuck,” he curses.

Your hands flash to cover your chest, “What?”

“No, don’t,” Seungcheol reassures. His hands find yours, tracing along your thumb. “You’re just…”

“Just?” you ask.

“Wow.”

“I’m wow?” you laugh.

Seungcheol takes another step into your space. And then another and another, your dress crumbling to the floor and leaving behind nothing but the thin band of your underwear for him to remove. Your knees hit the mattress and he follows you down into the cushion.

You're soft and warm like afternoon sunlight on a winter day under his wandering hands.

“You’re wow,” he responds, angling your chin so your mouth can meet his, noses grazing against one another.

You don’t have the patience to hear Seungcheol ramble about how perfect you are. Instead, you drag him into a desperate kiss, tongue teasing his. He’ll wax poetically later. Right now he wants to give you whatever you demand.

More kissing, the prickle of your teeth along his lip, and Seungcheol is pretty sure he’s never been harder in his life. It’s humbling and exhilarating all at once. Ready to crumble into nothing from some light petting.

He takes his revenge on the curve of your shoulder and it turns out to be extra sensitive. Every nip and suck along your collarbone leaves you panting, hands scratching up his back for some relief. He wonders what else is sensitive.

He laves against your nipple in maddening slowness. You torture him as well, ankles locking at the base of his spine while you grind against him and make more noises he’ll commit to memory forever.

“God,” you whine when Seungcheol finally breaks and rocks down into the tempting heat of your core.

He needs more.

“Do you think about this?” he grunts with another torturous press. He could come like this. You could come from this. Two adults, reduced to dry humping like horny teenagers.

“I think about you all the time,” you gasp.

“What do you think about?”

“You.”

Seungcheol snickers, “More specific.”

“Touching me, kissing me. Anywhere. Everywhere.”

A swell of neanderthal pride blooms in his heart. The image of you, touching yourself with his name on your lips breaks another piece of his self control that wants to savor this.

“Here?” he kisses the swell of your breast, waiting for a nod to move on.

“Here?” A suck on your nipple again until the bed sheets threaten to rip from your hold.

“Here?” A bite at your hip bone.

His fingers part your core, wet at first contact even over your panties. “What about here?”

“Everywhere. I’ve thought about you touching me everywhere.” You sound like you might start crying if he doesn’t fulfill that fantasy soon.

But he’s dying to know every little thought you’ve ever had about him. If you think about him a fraction as much as he thinks about you. Not just like this, but when he sees a building he’d never think twice about and know you’d have something to say about the construction of the window arches, or when he walks through the park and sees two dogs meeting for the first time and can hear your voice whisper ‘best friends!’ like you’re right beside him. You’re in everything. Every part of who he is.

Your panties come off and he licks between your legs slowly, savoring every part he can while you twitch and curl beneath him.

“Cheol,” you whine.

There's no need to elaborate. He feels it too.

Your back bows under his touch, and Seungcheol watches you touch yourself with rapt attention. You grab your breasts and squeeze, nipples visible between fingers.

He sucks your clit, tongue lashing at the sensitive nub. A million times Seungcheol thought about doing this and never did his brain imagine the sounds you’d make, the way you taste, the rough tub at his hair. You're hot and wet under his mouth and all Seungcheol wants is more, more, more.

“Tell me how it feels.”

“So good—fuck—it’s so good,” you gasps as he fucks your opening with his tongue, collection your flavor.

His finger wedges inside your tight walls. You angle your hips, sinking them deeper. Seungcheol pauses for only a moment before giving you a second one. The sting across his scalp from your frantic tugging leaves him straining against the zipper of his slacks.

He cups your ass, dragging you closer to the edge of the bed where he kneels. Your legs spread wider to grant him the space to savor the pink of your folds under his tongue without obstruction.

Your pitch rises, moaning through a third finger joining the mix and a rough lap of his tongue that has you kicking the sheets.. He can feel it; your end just over the hill. A few vulgar flicks of his tongue and its release in long waves that make you keen his name horsley.

You melt into a boneless heap. Occasional twitches of muscles flooding with pleasure the only sign of life.

Seungcheol mouths up your stomach, sucking a nipple between his teeth for a second before moving on to your mouth. If all you want to do tonight is kiss and let Seungcheol worship your pussy, then he’ll oblige. But the way pull at his clothes hints at what you want. He draws you back into his lap, your body hot against his, mouth coaxing yours open.

“Good?”

You giggle against his mouth. “I can’t feel my toes.”

He can’t stop touching you. Probably won’t ever stop now that he knows what it means to call you his. To know your body. You’re no better. Your hands rake through his hair, goosebumps erupting as you tug him exactly where you want.

The soft lines of your throat, the intoxicating taste of sweat and perfume flooding his tongue. It’s better than anything his sorry excuse for an imagination could come up with.

You tug at his shirt, up and up until it’s forgotten on the floor. Your bare chest against his lights an inferno of want. Seungcheol pushes apart your limp thighs, making space for himself to grind against your sensitive core through his own trousers.

Seungcheol remembers a crucial fact as you slip a hand in his pants and tease his leaking cock.

“Wait,” he mutters into your jaw.

You don’t stop, slowly jerking him off, teeth cutting into the vein on his neck. “What?’

Seungcheol savors your touch before responding, thrusting through your first with blind want. “I don’t have condoms.”

“Oh.”

“I can go and try to find some but I—” he rambles.

“Cheol.”

“—everyone is probably still at the party so—”

You shut him up with a hand over his mouth, “I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”

“Oh.”

Oh. Seungcheol’s brain swims with lewd imagination; you stuffed with his cum, pussy stretched and worn from his cock. Feeling you raw, again and again until your helpless sweaty messes.

“Unless you want to use them then that's fine!” you hastily supply.

He cups your face, smiling as you ramble about how okay you are with using condoms. Your face is warm, eyes avoidant while you enthusiastically declare you want to do whatever makes him comfortable. Which is an entirely new problem because if your goal is to make him comfortable, then neither of you will be leaving this bed for the foreseeable future and at some point people will start looking for you.

Seungcheol rolls over. You take advantage of the opportunity for free command of his lap, forcing his pants down until he’s as bare as you. He preens under your wide eye stare, ego flaring under your wide eye stare. Leaning back on his palms, he grows cocky from your silence.

“Like what you see?” Seungcheol goads.

Your gaze cuts to his, eyebrows arched in your own challenge. A flare of fear zaps up his spine.

He loves it.

Seungcheol is accustomed to taking the lead in bed. Some girls want him to be domineering, others prefer to sit back while he naturally takes the reins.

But you’ve butt heads with him in every aspect of life, hopefully this would be no different. He’s hoping you might even try telling him exactly how you want him.

“You’re so hard for me,” you whisper. Your hand reaches out, thumbing at the leaking head of his cock with seductive confidence.

Seungcheol nods in agreement at a loss of words under your touch.

Your head cocks to the side curiously, empty hand slipping between your thighs, making space for the head of his cock to nudge against your clit. “Do you wanna fuck me?”

He nods again.

“Good,” you smile. You hide in his neck, nosing along the tense muscles straining to break out from his skin. “I thought about you fucking me like this. When we were in high school. I thought—I wanted you to be the first.”

“Really?” he asked dazedly.

Your first. Not Stoner Ricky from Calculus. But him. You wanted Seungcheol to have you first, possible be the only one for each other. It’s a lie if he didn’t think of you in the back of his mom’s car while Tiffany Something took his virginity. Your lips, your voice instead of her nasally pornographic sounds, when he came it was only because he closed his eyes and thought of you.

He tells you that and earns a deep bite on his shoulder.

You continue, “I’d watch porn or read those smut books, and I always pictured it was you.”

“God.”

You sink on his cock, pussy stretched on his length, stars flaring across your vision. There's not enough air in the room to breathe through the tight squeeze wrecking your guts. You’re in the position of control but Seungcheol can already see submission gaining control. You won’t admit you can handle his cock but pride warms his veins at how much energy it takes for your stunted rhythm.

“Fuck,” you curse.

“Yeah? Feels good having your pussy stuff with my cock?” Your nails bite into his chest in response. Pink lines flare in their wake, one he hopes are still there tomorrow.

Seungcheol drags you into a kiss, a dirty culmination of teeth and tongue and your satisfied sighs and his needy grunts. You suck at his lips, focused on that rather than riding him.

“Taping out already?”

You ignore the dig. It takes the barest twinge of his arm and you’re rolling on your back, legs spread in invitation. He sinks into the space reserved just for him, sliding deeper than before. Now he’s the one that needs a moment. Squeezed to death between your walls is the sweet torture he’s ever experienced, the wet sloppy drag of your cunt, bare for him and him alone.

It’s an act of bravery to pull out for the sake of thrusting back in. If he was confident enough you could get off without his hips sinking deeper then he’d never do it, content to keep his cock wedge inside you and play with your clit and tits until you cry from the pleasure. But he really wants to fuck you.

“God, feels so good.” You break. He keeps his pace steady, building you up until you muster a way to squeeze him tighter and his skins on fire.

He hoists your leg up, a deeper stretch that leaves him muttering about how good you feel. The wet slap of your cunt grows louder, sloppy clashes of his pelvis against yours.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, stomach caving. The urge to cum is nipping at his heels but Seungcheol is better than that. Better than a quick fuck, at least for this first time. He wants to hear more of your sounds, fold you in every position he can imagine.

“More,” you grunt. “Fuck me harder, baby.”

He gives you what you ask for; plowing you into the mattress until the headboard slaps against the wall. “You like that?”

“Love it—shit. I love it.” You prop yourself up, shoving a hand between your bodies to swipe messy strokes across your clit. Seungcheol collects more sounds from the back of your throat, rough growls and stuttered squeaks. His cock is heavy in your guts, soaked with your arousal and his cum.

Your mouth finds his. Panting breath and loose tangles of lips. It’s a race against time with his vision bleached white. Your stomach caves with effort to meet each stroke with one of your own.

“I love you,” he groans.

You clench at his words, growing wetter if possible. Flailing against the bed, he hooks your other knee under his elbow and presses flat, pinning you down under his mercy. “I love you,” you whine back. “I-I—”

Your orgasm floods your veins, brain fuzzy and disconnected from anything beyond Seungcheol. He takes over the circles around your clit. Calloused fingers providing sick friction until you can’t take anymore.

“Wanna feel you come, Cheolie. Please,” you beg.

Something snaps and he’s rushing to pull out, jerking off over your stomach with your hand to help.

Rope after rope shines in the dim moonlight. He can’t even try to pretend the thrill of cumming inside isn’t on the forefront of his mind as the drips of his spend stare back at him. But you look like a fantasy come true cover in his cum, skinned flushed, eyes glazed and chest heaving. His own Venus come to life.

He pushes back in, spent cock sensitive to the squeeze of your cunt. Seungcheol doesn't want to be anywhere else. Now that he has you, he can't imagine a moment without you.

Sinking the weight of his hips, your legs lock him in. A combination of cum, sweat, arousal, and a few tears sticks between your sweltering bodies. Neither of you care, too enamored with cataloguing every bare inch of skin with in reach of your mouths.

‘Ugh,'' you groan. “I need a shower.”

In the bathroom, where so many horrible dangerous thoughts have plagued Seungcheol since the start of this trip, it’s peaceful. The thrum of the shower drowns out any sound beyond your sleepy huffs and his hums of content.

As the water heats you press him into the edge of the sink, kissing him as if there's all the time in the world to do just that. That seed of need that has been growing steadily in his gut since he kissed you in the garden comes alive again. You seem to ignore the prod at your thigh though so Seungcheol ignores it too and shepherds you into the stall.

He washes your back with soapy hands and you coif his hair into a shampoo mohawk and it’s feel right no matter how ridiculous he probably looks. You twist every time he touches your waist, shrieking in laughter because you hate being tickled.

Seungcheol is happy. It floods his veins, shoots through the tips of his fingers tracing your hip, forcing a content grin on his lips despite the fatigue of the day. He rests his forehead against your own and takes his first deep breath since New Years.

“I don’t want this to change anything."

“What?” you pull away.

“No!” Seugncehol shouts, wincing at the voluming. “Not—I didn’t mean that I just meant…I-I want you to feel like you can tell me anything. No more secrets. Okay? No matter what changes between us you're still my best friend. If I'm acting like an ass I want you to tell me. If you change your mind then-"

You watch him, features softening. “I won't."

You distract him with your own touches; it’s nice at first. Then it’s nothing short of blissful agony. Teasing nails across his stomach and sides, firm against his body in a way that leaves him weak and wanting. His heart thuds sporadically under your lips as his cock swells against your stomach.

“Y/N,” he sighs.

You kneel in front of him, smirking at how easy he is. You rub his cock with a slick grip. Your mouth comes into play slowly; kissing his hip, then his thigh, your tongue drags up the side until you suck the head between your lips and Seungcheol almost collapses.

You hold his thighs, guiding him further down your throat until there's no more space and you gag. He isn’t sure what to do with his hands but it doesn’t matter because he’s cumming. Fast.

Without missing a beat, you swallow everything he gives you.

“Oh god—fuck.”

“Good?” you ask, still licking against the head of his cock.

Rather than answer the obvious, he pulls you to your feet with a gentle kiss to your forehead. He’ll make it up to you back in bed. For right now, you curl into his chest, tracing shapes into his collarbone as the water slowly turns cold.

He pats you dry, ruffling your hair in the humid bathroom with all the time in the world before dragging you back to bed. You snuggle under the covers, still naked. Seungcheol joins immediately, rolling on top of you and caging his arms on either side of your head.

“Hi,” you smile from underneath him.

He can’t help but grin back. “Hi.”

You make love slowly this time. Your back to his chest, Seungcheol curled around you like a second skin, whispering his adoration in your ear until you lurch and cum with a cry. Then he does it again. And one more time because nothing is better than the taste of his name on your tongue.

This time, when Seungcheol finishes, it’s inside you. And when he tries to pull out, you protest with a sleepy threat before slipping into the land of dreams.

“Well, well, well,” Jeonghan tsks from the foot of the bed. “What do we have here?”

You’re still curled in Seungcheol’s arms, bare skin on bare skin only obscured by the blanket he had half a mind to drag over your two in the early hours of the morning. He’s still inside you for Christ Sake.

And yet Jeonghan and Sofie stand like two cats who caught the canary; unperturbed by the state of things. More like they’re delighted.

It might go down as the shortest honeymoon in history because Seungcheol is going to murder them.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a boat in Greece somewhere?” Seungcheol croaks, pulling you closer and forcing the blanket overhead. Maybe if he ignores them long enough they’ll go away.

“We were just leaving and wanted to say goodbye since some people decided to ditch our wedding. Now I see why.”

“Jeonghan,” you croak.

Jeonghan preens smugly. “Yes, whore?”

“Get out or I’ll show Sofie that video of you from Halloween.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“What video from Halloween?” Sofie asks.

“Jeonghan,” you warn. You’ll do it. The video of Jeonghan sobbing in a party city wig about how much he liked Sofie before they started dating is one of the few pieces of blackmail against him.

“Fine. But when I’m back next month I want an explanation.”

“What video from Halloween?” She asks again as Jeonghan pushes her out the door.

“I hate him,” you say.

Seungcheol hums his agreement against your shoulder, tracing the skin with his lips until you shiver. “Me too.”

“Now, are you gonna do something about that,” you rock back into his pelvis, a tight squeeze around his cock he bucks into. “Or can I get up?”

“Roll over.”

Seungcheol fucks you for the nth time in so few hours. You whine and whimper and melt into the mattress under his weight, face buried in the pillows in an effort to stay quiet. He doesn’t care that the sun is heavy in the sky and half the house must be able to hear the way he groans around the syllables of your name.

He doesn’t care one bit.

Seungcheol has seen you in plenty of relationships, been in several of his own, but he’s never been in a relationship with you.

Turns out all the daydreaming and what-ifs couldn't come close to reality.

It’s better.

Most things are still the same. You two still bicker about everything. He finds your hair all over his apartment. His clothes magically disappear from his closet only to turn up at your place. You call him a stubborn jackass and he calls you a drama queen (both in regards to how he loads the dishwasher).

And he loves that even while dating you two refuse to change.

But Seungcheol also loves all the new things. The firsts you get to share.

The first time you visit home as a couple, your mom spots him kissing along your knuckles as you approach the house and she starts crying. Loudly. He spots his dad hand his mom twenty bucks but not before your dad hands over another ten.

Apparently, everyone was waiting for this to happen.

His dad claps him on the shoulder and your dad shakes his hand and suddenly he’s no longer Seungcheol, childhood best friend who lived down the street. He is Seungcheol, boyfriend. He’s known your parents since he was in elementary school and his mom texts you more frequently than her own son.

But none that matters because, at the ripe age of thirty, you two are banned from sleeping over during the visit for the first time in your lives.

He’s got a suspicion it’s because none of them know how to handle their kids finally dating. You and Seungcheol have never been normal but they��re trying.

Even if he sneaks out like he’s a teenager and climbs into your window in the dead of night. Now that's a fantasy come to life.

Back in the city Seungcheol discovers more ways things have changed.

You spend almost every night at Seungcheol’s apartment. When your sublease ends after four months there isn’t a big production about moving in with him. You had a key since he moved into the place years ago. Your stuff ends up in his spare room, which becomes ‘your’ room but you both call it the guest room and it's a new level of domesticity he’s never had.

In the mornings, you find him in the bathroom if he forgot to drop a good morning kiss on your forehead (something he’s started doing on purpose because you totter in with your eyes still closed and pajamas wrinkled, diving straight into his chest and grumbling incoherently until he gives in). It’s enough to make his heart squeeze even after the hundredth time).

Or how you constantly find a reason to touch him. Curled around his back while he makes dinner, shimmying under his arm when he’s reading case files on the couch. A hand through his hair while you cuddle in bed. Your shared bed, in your shared apartment. Which he is embarrassingly giddy about but you are too and that makes him feel better. You meet for lunch, at either of your offices, and he can see the instinct to drop into his lap making your fingers twitch but only because his own flex with the urge to pull you in first.

The first time you go to a baseball game together and end up on the kiss cam and he doesn’t have to pretend to not notice or awkwardly wait for the cameraman to catch the hint, because you’re kissing him until his ears grow hot and the crowd hoots wildly.

In the best way possible it’s weird. He doesn’t know how to date someone he’s been in love with for as long as he can remember. A lot of it feels like being friends. Like whatever was there before is the bones and all the new things filled in the empty space between.

There isn’t really a guide or set timeline but you’re figuring it out.

And Jeonghan helps. In his own Jeonghan way.

“You guys have been softcore dating since highschool. Just think of it like dogs. You’ve dated for a year now, right? That's like seven years for your guys.”

Seungcheol will tell you later tonight, after you’ve said yes, how the last part of your trio gave his blessing. How Sofie helped him pick the ring (which was really Seungcheol picking the ring and her providing moral support via muzzling her husband).

But for right now, he watches you across the table, laughing at something the waiter said, the weight of the velvet box burning a hole in his pocket.

And he knows the next first you have together will be the best one yet.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi

@writingbarnes @dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts

@wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos @seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially

@scoupsjin @isabellah29 @luvseungcheol @crisle19 @iamawkwardandshy

@lukeys-giggle

Fic taglist:

@sourkimchi @aaniag @sillygirl-bee17 @xcynthiaaa @bath1lda

@blondechann @accalus @talk-inriddles @junniesoleilkth @yoongznme

@christinewithluv @rakshithanotrao @cherryluster @sarahmoonlxght-blog @linminhgk

@min-core @helloiliketits @atsumulovemail @whoa-jo @asyre

@telepathylftv @firstmatecherry @wonuskie @softiesoga @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan

@maxsanee @mischiefmanaged90 @randomworker @bouclesdefeu

@smoooore @hanipopeta

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maxlarens · 6 months ago

Text

CL: guess the heat drives people crazy

pairing(s): charles leclerc x artist!reader

summary: you’re not used to having a boyfriend, let alone having a famous one. though you’d like to think you’re taking your new found status as a wag in your stride. charles certainly thinks so. [smau] [part 2 to this fic]

fc: faceless and some alexandra saint mleux

a/n: sorry this took so long! i was honestly kinda unsure how i wanted to do this. i wasn’t sure if i wanted to do a little storyline but i basically ended up just doing a bunch of little snapshots of their relationship 😇

@ynusername just posted…

liked by @rowan, @charlesleclerc and others

ynusername wildflowers, the waves where we met, on the way to our first dinner

chloegarelli i did that!☝🏻☝🏻

⤷ ynusername okay 😐 dont get too big for ur britches

user1 is that……..?

⤷ user2 CHARLES RIGHT?

⤷ user1 yes wtf!?

⤷ user3 you are delusional you can only see his hands

⤷ user2 AND?? he is in her likes

rowan we did it joe‼️

⤷ chloegarelli four years in the making iktr

⤷ chloegarelli i’d like to thank the american people and i’d like to thank democracy for this win

⤷ ynusername we are MONEGASQUE?

⤷ ynusername anyway u guys are the most insane couple i have ever met

⤷ rowan and you’re stuck with us foreverrrr

user4 no one is talking about how adorable this is. the waves where we met like UR KIDDING!

⤷ user5 if she is actually dating charles then he is literally the luckiest man alive

@f1wagupdates just posted…

tagged @ynusername @charlesleclerc

liked by @chloegarelli, @ynusername and others

f1wagupdates ‼️🚨 new wag alert 🚨‼️ monegasque painter yn yln has been spotted getting cozy with charles on his yacht. it’s believed they met while on holiday in italy several months ago🥺

user1 fell to my knees in the grocery store

⤷ user1 THAT SHOULD BE ME

⤷ user1 but if it had to be anyone else im glad its her

user2 oh i KNEW that was him on her instagram three months ago. vindication.

user3 stop she is so pretty

⤷ user4 like attracts like

rowan cats out of the bag @chloegarelli

⤷ chloegarelli WE DID THIS EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU

⤷ user5 thank you oh my god

⤷ user6 THANK YOU

⤷ charlesleclerc thank you😁

[❤️ by f1wagupdates]

user7 need to see them together at a race

⤷ user8 CHARLES GET HER ON THE PADDOCK

⤷ charlesleclerc 🫡

ynusername oh my god. not the picture of him pushing me into the water😐

⤷ user9 OH i love her ur honour

⤷ f1wagupdates I’M SORRY!

⤷ rowan don’t apologise its so perfect

⤷ charlesleclerc Stop I tripped!!!!!!!!! I told you!!!!!

⤷ ynusername u did NOT trip!!!!

⤷ user10 they are my everything wtf

@ynusername just posted…

tagged @charlesleclerc

liked by @charlesleclerc @f1 @scuderiaferrari and others

ynusername charles, the week we met we talked about what the monaco gp meant to you. the place your dreams took root, the one race you wanted so badly it hurt, the city you wanted to love you back. i could feel your yearning for that win as deeply as i feel for my own ambitions. i knew then that we understood each other like i have never understood anyone else in my life. and i knew, somehow i knew, that you would be on the top step of that podium. charles, i am endlessly proud of you and all the hard work you did to get here. you deserve this. i love you. and monaco loves you.

user1 charles monaco gp win you are everything to me

user2 they’re in love in love!!! WTFFFF

scuderiaferrari ❤️

user3 god let me have what they have i cant handle this

chloegarelli im tearing up yall are like my babies

user4 HE DID IT!!!!

charlesleclerc oh I love you I love you I love you

⤷ charlesleclerc How would I have done this without you?

⤷ ynusername I am so proud of you baby. I love you ❤️

⤷ user5 this interaction changed lives

⤷ user6 how do i reasonably find love after this. how am i supposed to be satisfied with anything less???

🎨 i just KNOW her caption would make the rounds on tumblr

#charles leclerc #f1 #formula 1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc smau #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x artist!reader #requests #🍓anon #smau:cl16

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goldsbitch · 5 months ago

Text

remember that

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. But everyone need assurance that they are still loved sometimes. The first time Lando almost slept on a couch blurb

warning: couple fight, angst

It was bad. This time, it was really fucking bad.

After weeks of snarky comments being swallowed in, the "it's fine" line being burned into Lando's ears almost on a daily basis and growing minutes Y/N had to wait before Lando decided to respond to her texts, shit finally hit the fan.

They hadn't seen each other for two weeks now. Inevitable fight broke out right as he crossed the threshold. Postponed dates and forgotten dinners lined up. They couldn't help themselves and put it all on the table. First it was the fact she didn't smile upon seeing him, then it was a reminder that he promised to bring something from Italy and forgot. It went on and on and on. She sat at the dinning table, while he leaned over at the kitchen counter.

"Lando, sometimes it feels like I'm in a relationship with your assistant and not you! For heaven sake, this week I had to call him, once again, when I could not reach you. Do you know how embarrassing it is?" she half-screamed into her hands.

Lando took a breath so deep an average yoga teacher would be jealous. "How am I suppose to be expected to pick up on a race day. You know that I get super busy and distracted."

"Funny how you never were when we started dating," she murmured bitterly.

He had to turn away, couldn't watch his love giving up on him just because they were not in the honeymoon stage anymore. "Yes, but now I'm winning races! Closer to my dream that I've ever been. It's different now."

"I'm glad I met you back then, because obviously you'd not date me if we met now," she couldn't stop those words that rotted in her coming out.

A beat. Maybe it was time to actually break the rule for once and go to sleep angry, because it was getting out of hand. "You know what, that's probably true and it breaks my heart that once I start doing well, you're suddenly not the supporting girlfriend anymore."

A crushing blow. "Tell me how am I suppose to support you if you don't even answer my phone! We used to talk for hours!

"Maybe understand that I can't!"

"I do! But you can't assume that I'll let you push me away completely!"

Lando thew his hands up in desperation. How could she not see it? "I'm coming here to you whenever I have a slightest chance! And I come what? You constantly dragging me through the mud."

"Oh interesting you mention that. How sad that your assistant had to remind you of my sensitive skin before you having him book me an "apology mud massage" when you cancelled on me few weeks ago," se shot, knowing it would hit the target.

"How do you even know that!" he said, unable to comprehend that he did not even control his paid assistant, not mention his own life anyway.

"Well, I talk a lot to you assistant! And he slips up!" It was a weird friendship between people who both wished they could get a little more info out of Lando.

"That's it. I can't deal with this now," he said, with the intention to sleep on the couch for the first time in their relationship. He didn't even know why he chose that action, walking towards their bedroom and dramatically bringing a pillow and a blanket over to the sofa, but if this is what couples did when the fought, there must have been a reason for it.

It absolutely infuriated her. Sparked up something she hoped she'd never feel. "Oh, sleep tight." she spitted with bitter undertone.

"I will!"

They walked around each other in silence, him getting ready to sleep on the couch and her cutting her skincare short this time and spending more time debating whether to close the bedroom door as they usually would or leave it open. Just in case.

He could hear her shifting back and forth. It angered him a little bit, since he was the one playing a cruel joke on his already tired muscles.

Thousand things she wanted to say and only one came to her mind in a form of an actual sentence. There goes nothing. "Do you still feel good about this?"

"What?" he whispered, not expecting her to speak to him again before the next day.

"Nevermind, forget I asked."

"About what!" He hated when she did this. If you didn't catch up at the first moment, she did not give you a second chance.

"Do you still feel good about us, being together?" She cursed herself for asking this. Dangerous questions brought up explosive answers. She wished for a reassurance and a rejection. She snuggled deeper into her blanket and turned around to face the door. As if wishing for him to stand there and coming back to her.

Lando hated her question. In fact, it made him furious again. But it was a peace offering, he had already learned that before. "Even here, lying on the bloody couch, because we're fighting...It's the place I wanna be at."

Anxiety kicked in Y/N. "What, you mean like away from me?"

He laughed lightly. She was always thinking the worst. "No, silly. The exact opposite...We could both be at thousand different places at the moment. But we're not. And for me at least, it's because like---I want to be with you. I hate that we'd drifted apart lately. I'd love to be in bed with you, laughing without a care in the world, like we usually do. But, we can't do that now. And yet, I'd rather be left on the couch if I know you're next door than all alone in my bed." His words hit like small drops of rain after a long draught.

She whispered, choosing her words carefully. "You're my twin flame. You make my soul light up in fire, make me feel like I'm the sun. Do you know what my biggest fear is?"

Lando also tuned into sweeter tone, one that was more familiar from days filled with sunshine. "What, my love?"

"That we're gonna burn out. You and me, ending up like an epic love story. The good ones work because they end in tragedy."

"You're always so poetic," he smiled, proud to think he was her love story.

"There is no other way to describe how you'd changed my life. Flipped it upside down the moment you walked into the same room."

Lando chucked. "Yeah, remember that?"

"How could I not."

"You were not having a good day."

Finally, she spoke loudly again. "So, what? Everything was going to shit and the event we were doing had to be perfect before the 'important people' arrived".

"Such an ego boost to know I was your priority before you even met me," he uttered, happy to push her buttons.

"Oh, and you were so cocky! Just laughing around, like we were some sort of comedy sketch."

"Well, I'm sorry, have you heard yourself when you're upset? The way how your voice goes up seven octaves higher?" he laughed, his breath feeling lighter now.

"Coming from you, that's rich! You were giggling in a tone so high the elderly couldn't hear you!"

"I'm so happy I managed to bag the grumpiest person in the building. And bare in mind there must have been around 500 people there."

"980 if you could in staff as well."

He let out a heavy sigh. "You with your pristine memory."

She paused before responding. "Yes. Wish I didn't have that sometimes."

"Wish I had at least a pinch of that."

Silence fell in both rooms. Heavy breath and wondering eyes. The lack of their touch suddenly being more obvious than before. Playing a contest who will reach out first.

"Lando?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Can you back here, please?" she said, somewhat nervously. Lando took a pause. There was nothing he wished for more. It hurt to fight. But he figured a relationship needed that sometimes. As the poets say, you loose a woman when you forget to cherish her. He liked to think this went both ways. And they both started slacking a bit. He could only affect his own behavior, with the hope that she'd also come to the same understanding.

"I'd like nothing more in the world, my love."

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munsonsmixtapes · 6 months ago

Text

Tired of Waiting

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

summary: little pieces of your life as you fall in love with Anthony

cw: hurt/comfort

very loosely inspired by Love Story by Taylor Swift

Age 7

The first time you met Anthony, you had been playing hide and seek with your siblings. Your brothers had invited him to play and had declared that he be the seeker. Immediately, you had thought he was cute with his disheveled hair and outfit that was covered in dirt for reasons unknown to you.

He got along with your brothers quite nicely, but didn’t seem to pay you any mind. Almost as if he didn’t like you. And Anthony didn’t like you. He thought you were a know-it-all and didn’t like how you told him what to do.

You hid yourself in the tree above you and tried to hold back your giggles as you watched the boy and your brothers look for you, calling out your name as they did so. You let out a laugh that was a bit too loud and all four of them looked up, Anthony’s eyes going wide as he saw how high up you were. He thought it was very irresponsible of your brothers to let a girl such as yourself climb up there. But instead of helping, they all just laughed along with you.

Taking matters into his own hands, Anthony climbed up to help you despite your objection. You didn’t need his help. You got up there so you could certainly get down. And you certainly didn’t need help from a boy. Especially not one who was your not your brother.

“I do not require your help,” you told him, but he just ignored you, climbing the tree quicker than you ever could.

“No one said you didn’t require it, but I am offering.”

“Then I shall stay up here.” You crossed your arms over your chest, planting yourself down on the branch that you had been standing on. Thinking about letting him help you made you feel weak, like you couldn’t do it for yourself and you most certainly could.

You turned to face the setting sun as Anthony continued to climb to you, paying him no mind. You weren’t leaving that tree until he went away. He was not going to make you look like all of the other women. Because that was not what you were. You were just a girl trying to live out her freedom until it was time to discuss marriage.

Everyone stopped when there was a loud crack coming from below you. You sat up and sure enough, the branch was separating from the tree. Anthony finally reached the branch and him grabbing onto it made it completely break off, causing the both of you to fall to the ground in a loud thud.

He landed on top of you and made multiple apologies even though the fall hadn’t been that far, but you had hurt your knee, probably had even broken it. You screamed in response to the pain and your brothers quickly pulled him off of you and your oldest brother, Henry carried you inside to have your scraped knees taken care of. From that moment, you vowed that you would always hate Anthony Bridgerton.

Age 12

You got over your hatred for Anthony pretty quickly and the two of you had been attached at the hip ever since. You’d chase each other through the garden, threatening to kiss the other once you were caught, but that never actually happened. No matter how much you wanted it to. You knew it was wrong for a boy and a girl to kiss if they were not married, but that didn’t stop you from imagining what it would have been like to press a featherlight kiss to Anthony’s lips.

And Anthony felt just the same. He had realized that the feelings he had thought were hatred were actually of love. He had loved you and more than just a friend. He knew that he was young, but he wanted to marry you. So badly that it hurt. He vowed that as soon as the two of you were of age, he’d do it. If he had the guts.

Age 16

As you got older, you and Anthony talked much of traveling the world together. You’d go to Spain and Paris, and Italy and wherever else your hearts desired. You’d both sit in the study of your house and spin your globe for hours, closing your eyes and spinning the thing and deciding you’d had whatever it landed on to your ever-growing itinerary.

Not long after, Anthony told you that he would be traveling with his uncle through Europe. Coincidentally to the exact places you both had discussed going to. You had been a little upset, but ultimately felt elated for him to be able to do something so exciting. He promised that he would write and bring something back, but that didn’t seem like enough. You had spent every single day for the past nine years together and now you were going to be miles apart with only his letters and gifts to keep your company.

The next week, you saw Anthony off, giving him a hug that lasted a little too long for friends and stayed there until his carriage disappeared down the road. You felt tears fall from your eyes but wiped them away until you were alone.

You knew it was only going to be for a few weeks, but without Anthony, a part of you was missing. A piece of your heart had left with him and you were hoping, praying that he’d finally get the hint and come back and ask for your hand like you had been wanting for years. But he didn’t.

Age 20

Those few weeks had turned into months which eventually turned into years. Anthony had been gone for four years and you eventually threw away the letters he was sending you, knowing that everything he had said was a load of shit. He has promised to come back and marry you, but clearly that hadn’t been of importance since he had yet to do just that.

So, with that, you decided that it was finally your season to find a husband to which your mother reluctantly agreed. She had her heart set on you ending up with Anthony, but since he had failed to propose, she decided that it was probably for the best to just get on with it.

As soon as you had been declared ready to wed, suitors lined up at your door with gifts and many compliments which you took with a smile. All of them were gentleman, but none of them seemed right. The onto one you wanted was out of reach.

You found yourself at yet another ball to meet more suitors that you had forced yourself to go despite your want to stay home and read Anthony’s letters over and over again. You had been dancing with the man your mother had insisted was the right fit for you and no matter how nice he was, you had decided that he was a bore. All he seemed to want to talk about was his family and as nice as it was that he loved them so much, you could only hear about his six siblings for so long.

You looked around the room as he spoke and your eyes locked on a beautiful man by the refreshments table. He has the prettiest brown eyes and hair that was the perfect amount of messy. He was definitely your type and you had been determined to talk to him.

Once the song ended, you excused yourself from Edgar and made a beeline for the man that has caught your interest. His eyes locked on yours and for some reason, they seemed familiar, almost as if you had looked into them before. He gave you a smile and you swore your legs were going to give out at how pretty it was.

“Hello,” you greeted him with a curtsy. “I’m-”

“Lady l/n,” he finished, taking your gloved hand and pressing a kiss to it. How could he have possibly known your name? Unless- No, he was in Paris last you had heard.

“Anthony?” You asked and he just smiled. It really was him! In the flesh! How had he come back and not told you? Perhaps the announcement had been in the letters you had failed to open.

“I believe you should address me as Viscount Bridgerton,” he said, his lips right by your ear, causing you to shiver.

“That would mean that I respect you and at this moment, I don’t.” You pulled your hand from his and headed out of the ballroom, down to the courtyard.

Anthony took off after you, quickly gaining up on you. What had he done wrong? Once upon a time, you worshipped the ground that he walked on and now you were treating him like he was dog shit you had just stepped in.

He told you he was going to come back and marry you and now that he had, you didn’t want anything to do with him. He knew that he had been gone longer than intended, but he had hoped you still would have been happy to see him. Apparently, he was wrong.

Anthony followed you into the hedge maze that took up most of the courtyard and was having trouble keeping up since you had sped up into a run. What even was the purpose of a hedge maze?

He eventually caught you by the wrist and you tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. You were tired of running, but you were also tired of waiting. If you said the word, you’d be wed to Edgar within a month and Anthony would have been kicking himself because he hadn’t gotten there sooner. It was what he had deserved.

“Stop running,” he commanded through labored breaths and you just shook your head.

“No,” you replied. “I will not. I am so upset with you that I can’t even comprehend it.”

“Upset with me?” He still had no idea what he had done.

“Yes!” You looked so upset and exhausted that all Anthony wanted to do was hold you in his arms as a way to comfort you.

“Why?”

“Why? Be serious, Anthony! I have waited years for you and I shall not wait any longer. I am done with you.” That was like a stab to the heart. You should have just killed him. It would have hurt a lot less

“Done?” You couldn’t be done with him. You had spent too much time together for that to be true.

“I am to marry Lord Fletcher.” Fuck, he was too late.

“That man is a bore!” You had no interest in hearing his thoughts. He lost his privilege to tell you what he thought when he left.

“He is no such thing!” He really was, but you weren’t going to give Anthony the satisfaction of being right.

“And may I say old enough to be your father.” He was that too, but you weren’t really going to marry him so it didn’t matter.

“But he will be my husband. A role you could have taken on if you had bothered to show up.” With that, he he let go of your hand and watched you move further into the maze.

“But he doesn’t love you as much as I!” He yelled, loud enough for you to hear. You quickly turned around and marched towards him and grabbed him by his coat before pressing your lips to his. You felt him gasp into your mouth but he quickly melted into you, his lips moving with yours.

“You love me,” you said against his lips.

“More than you’ll ever know.” He pulled away and reached into his pocket for the ring he had bought for you in Paris. He opened the box you gasped at the beautiful ring sitting inside it.

“Anthony, it’s beautiful.”

“And it’s yours.” He removed the ring from the box and slid it onto your finger, tears welling up in both of your eyes. “It always was.”

“I’m sorry. I was horrible to you.”

“No apologies necessary,” he shook his head, pulling you into another deep kiss. “Now, shall we go make the announcement?” He asked, offering you his arm.

“We shall,” you nodded and looped your arm through his, the two of you making your way back into the ballroom to announce your much anticipated engagement.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgeton fluff

1K notes · View notes

lateatnewyork · 4 months ago

Text

THEY'RE BOTH HOMEWRECKERS... FOR EACH OTHER? 001

jude bellingham x wolff!reader

summary: jude reveals in an interview that he has a crush on model y/n wolff, and now has the entire f1 grid coming after him.

extra information:

fc: rashan mh

justyn

liked by judebellingham, dualipa and 589,325 others in italy for the gp 🏎️ 🇮🇹 !! view comments

gigihadid i miss u alreadyy ➥ justyn i’ll be back soonnnn sabrinacarpenter so pretty !! ➥ justyn says u user09 whats jude doing in the likes ➥ user08 he said he had a crush on her in his latest interview 😭 susiewolff komm bald nach hause, dein vater macht uns verrückt ➥ justyn 😭 hearts4yn jude back off judebellingham 😻 liked by creator ➥ alexalbon nah thats crazy user45 why does bro get everything charlesleclerc who is jude ➥ lewishamilton fr ➥ carlossainz no way ➥ justyn ...

judebellingham

liked by justyn, jobebellingham and 608,382 others italy 😎 view comments

user09 jude soft launching was not on my 2024 bingo card judeloml NOOOO HE HAS A GF georgerussell if he has a gf why is he coming after yn ➥ just.yn george... bukayosaka editing skills go crazy jobebellingham ur not slick justyn 😍 ➥ rbrmylove nah yn he has a gf ➥ user65 shes such a homewrecker sabrinacarpenter oh! ➥ judebellingham stop bullying me 😓 gracieabrams no way she took u over me carmenmundt ship! alexanderasaintmleux cuties ➥ charlesleclerc alex you know about this user45 why is the whole grid and their mothers in jude's comments?? ➥ averagejudelover my concerns exactly katiekane tell her i wanna see her ➥ judebellingham will do

justyn

liked by meganpickford, anokyai and 928,728 others to summarise: me looking at him, me wondering why my dad's yelling so much, me hiding him from everyone view comments

alexanderasaintmleux come by sometime with him! ➥ justyn gimme a time and place lilymhe tell him i was here first ➥ justyn if u tell alex that first ➥ alexalbon YOU MET HER COS OF ME? oscarpiastri i wonder who that is ➥ georgerussell WHAT DO YOU KNOW ➥ lewishamilton oscar... ➥ carlossainz oscar jack piastri ➥ charlesleclerc we wont hurt him ➥ fernandoalonso just tell us ➥ totowolff OSCAR TELL ME RIGHT NOW susiewolff pretty baby ➥ justyn love you maman sabrinacarpenter holy moly ➥ justyn me to u carmenmundt wowowo ➥ justyn says you paigemilian whens the wedding ➥ justyn whenever u want bby ➥ raheemstirling YOURE LITERALLY ENGAGED TO ME?

justyn

liked by jobebellingham, susiewolff and 739,542 others middle pic is my dad when he realises im soft launching 🤐 view comments

landonorris stop being horny on main ➥ georgerussell what ➥ lewishamilton ^ ➥ charlesleclerc ^ ➥ alexalbon ^ ➥ yukitsunoda ^ ➥ carlossainz ^ ➥ maxverstappen ^ user09 ok theyre actually kinda cute alexanderasaintmleux scared for him when they find out ➥ justyn same 😭 sabrinacarpenter that should be me victoriabeckham tell your mum i said hi ➥ justyn will do 🫡 lilymhe hes gonna get even more beat up now 😭 ➥ justyn oopsies ynmylove if theyre this cute how am i meant to be mad

footballwagsofficial

liked by oscarpiastri, jobebellingham and 597,482 others two new photos of jude bellingham and yn wolff have been leaked providing further proof for yn to be the unknown wag on katiekane 's instagram page. the pair have been soft launching partners since early march, with photos that look a lot like each other. they were seen together after todays grand prix in imola in a small restaurant. view comments

georgerussell theres no way totowolff what. lewishamilton oh maxverstappen well yn is done for alexalbon what the hell ➥ alexalbon lowk scared for jude tho rbrmylove it looks like the grid didn't know either 😭 ➥ oscarpiastri erm actually 🤓 ➥ logansargeant we did ➥ landonorris ^ ➥ charlesleclerc NO WAY YN TRUSTED U GUYS

judebellingham

liked by justyn, susiewolff and 832,684 others my girl justyn view comments

justyn I LOVE YOUU ➥ judebellingham ME TOO alexalbon THERES NO WAY A WAG PAGE FOUND OUT BEFORE ME ➥ jobebellingham what im saying ➥ maxverstappen fr ➥ georgerussell tryna figure that out ➥ lewishamilton no cos what ➥ charlesleclerc i cant believe it ➥ carlossainz like ➥ oscarpiastri cant relate ➥ logansargeant same ➥ landonorris yn just doesn't trust you susiewolff you both are so cute liked by creator sabrinacarpenter give her backk ➥ judebellingham no tyla tell ur gf i want her ➥ judebellingham what no ➥ justyn I WANT YOU TOO

justyn

liked by judebellingham, denisebellingham and 890,399 others my boy judebellingham view comments

judebellingham i love you pretty girl ➥ justyn i love you too pretty boy denisebellingham now we can have family dinners ➥ susiewolff finally! totowolff i'm not mad ➥ justyn really papa? ➥ totowolff i just wished you had told me ➥ justyn i thought you would overreact like you did with jake ➥ judebellingham hold up whos jake oscarpiastri feels so good not to lie anymore ➥ justyn blah blah sabrinacarpenter come back to meee ➥ justyn bet gracieabrams leave him. ➥ justyn ok! dualipa cuties victoriabeckham favourite couple paigemilian adorable alexanderasaintmleux 💗 lilymhe nooooooooo ➥ lilymhe im kidding you guys are so cute

a/n saw someone say they love the jude x f1 crossovers so i did another one lemme know if u like

904 notes · View notes

trashytracktales · 11 days ago

Text

Adrenaline state of mind | FC⁴³

𐙚 summary ──── After a long, eventful Sunday in São Paulo, Franco finds himself sharing an unexpected ride back to his hotel. What starts as a casual conversation about racing and dreams, slowly turns into something deeper, as the quiet intimacy of the night pulls them closer.

𐙚 pairing ──── Franco Colapinto x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, smut, explicit language, mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of racing incidents (Franco's crash in Brazil), swearing, suggestive/flirty behavior, unprotected shower sex (pull out game strong lol).

𐙚 word count ──── 4.6k

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 17, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Every single time I open my silly writing app I'm thinking, this is the day I'll go for pure smut & no build-up, and every single time I fail miserably 🤍

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

FRANCO KNOWS IT could've been much worse. So, he's done overthinking for the night. After a chaotic race that ended with a crash on Lap 43, all he wants is to go back to his hotel room and wash the day off.

The adrenaline is still there, giving him random rushes throughout his body every time he remembers his error. The rain made it all difficult, of course, but he can't blame the weather — that's what amateurs do.

The impact was jarring, even from the angles the cameras caught. But for Franco, being inside the car while it was happening — it scared him. And he's now too scared to admit that he's scared. He’s spent hours afterward in the paddock, walking the line between shaking it off and dwelling on it, and still, he can't help but coming back to the same feeling. Again and again.

It's past midnight now, and most of the lights in the paddock have dimmed. The Brazilian night is humid, shadows stretching out beneath a heavy, damp sky. The sounds of engines are quieted for once, replaced by the murmur of distant voices and the occasional clash of closing garages. There aren’t many people left — just a handful of team members gathering last equipment, and a few scattered mechanics.

And her.

He knows her only through Alex. She’s the friend he’s seen around a for a couple of races — in Italy first, then US, and now here. Formally, they met in the Williams garage, after qualifying in Monza. They didn't talk much, but enough for him to remember her name. And her smile.

She’s leaning against a barrier near the Red Bull hospitality area, shielded from the light shower while scrolling on her phone. The light that comes from the screen is softly reflecting on her face, Franco noticing the little frown between her eyebrows and how focused she is, for some reason. Her head is tipped forward, strands of hair falling loose around her face, and he finds a softness in her expression that catches his eye the second he gets closer.

“Thought you left already?” he says with a thick accent, but it sounds more like a question in the end.

She looks up, a little startled, but then her face lights up in surprise. “Oh, Franco. Hey. No, just… I'm actually trying to find a ride. Alex and Lily took off right after the race. Probably should’ve left with them,” she says with a small laugh. “Caught up with some familiar faces and I lost track of time,” she explains, moving her weight from one foot to the other.

There’s a faint tension behind his easygoing demeanor, but he holds her gaze with a calm confidence. “Want to come with? We’re at the same hotel, no? I was just heading there.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, her eyes widening in recognition. “That’d be nice, actually.”

“Of course.”

They start walking together, cutting through the raindrops, neither of them looking very bothered by it. The crisp smell of rain blends softly with her sweet, floral scent, making Franco's mind wander, and he realizes too late she just asked him something, only because the space between them went quiet for a bit.

“I’m sorry, come again?”

She puffs a little chucke out, “I asked how are you feeling, but just got my answer.”

“Oh, yeah,” Franco shrugs, “Could've been worse,” he finally says it out loud.

“Still. It looked pretty intense on the screens.”

His heart clenches, but tries to keep a neutral tone, “It was. Maybe a bit too much,” he laughs dryly. “Felt like it happened in slow motion, honestly.” Franco glances down at her, half-smiling. “But I survived.”

She hums softly, nudging him gently. “Guess that’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Crash, pick up the pieces, do it all again?”

He shrugs, “Pretty sure I’m supposed to try and not crash at all.”

He didn't even try to be funny, but she finds it hilarious the way Franco emphasizes the words, as if he pours his passion into each one of them. Her hands wrap around her own body as they walk, their footsteps the only sound echoing in the quiet paddock. He notices it immediately, taking off his Williams jacket and draping it over her shoulders.

“Cold?” asks Franco, smirking, without looking in her direction.

She blushes at the warmth that instantly wraps around her, the faint scent of his cologne somehow comforting. It's not intoxicating, or too strong. Just a slight trace of cardamom, followed by an unexpected freshness.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, wrapping the jacket close around her.

THE RAIN IS still falling lightly when they get back to the hotel, the sound a steady rhythm against the roof of the car. None of them kept quiet the entire drive — they started off boring, agreeing that the capricious weather was a real pain in the ass throughout the weekend, but their conversation took off, flying like ping-pong balls from one topic to another.

Now, the tension between them is like a subtle current that neither is rushing to acknowledge, but it's buzzing just beneath the surface.

Who would've thought they have so much in common?

“You up for a drink?” asks Franco, taking even himself by surprise.

She has to think about it for a while — it can't be a good idea. He's had a long weekend and needs rest, and she desperately needs to dry up. However, her pulse starts racing just at the thought of being around him more.

Her lips lift in a small smile. “ Alright. Just one,” she agrees, raising a finger in the air to accentuate her determination.

One drink turns into two.

Then three, each sip bringing them closer, the conversations drifting from track tales to late-night jokes, then back to stories about his unexpected rookie season. She listens intently, her laughter genuine, her gaze warm and focused, like he’s the only one she’s interested in hearing from. There’s a depth to her that Franco can’t look away from, a curiosity and calmness that makes him feel understood; he didn't know he needed that until now.

“So,” says Franco after taking a sip of his fourth drink. “Can I ask you something?” his gaze is observant, yet gentle, as he decides to take the conversation to a more personal tone.

“Shoot,” she nods once, just starting on her third Negroni.

“You seem to know a lot about the world of racing, and the people involved in it. But you’re not part of it. Why?”

She smirks in his direction, “Yet. I mean, there is no school to prepare someone for the position I want, but I hope I’ll get to be in front of the monitors one day. To tell your engineer when is the optimal time to pit or what tires to use in order to gain competitive advantage, maybe, ” her voice is lost in reverie, like she's been dreaming about this for a long time.

He cocks an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by her answer, “You want to be a race strategist? That’s quite unique, no? Most people,” adds Franco, pointing at himself, “Dream of being racers.”

“I work better with my brain than my body. Plus, it's too late for me, even if I wanted to do something about it,” she says, a tint of nostalgia embracing her by the shoulders. “I've also seen Alex training before,” she continues, shaking her head while laughing, “Nope, thank you.”

“So then, brains over brawn, huh?”

“In my case, yes. Something like that,” she agrees, catching the little hint of interest in his eyes.

He studies her for a moment as if he tries to figure her out, because he knows there’s more to her than what meets the eye; their interaction so far proves that. It's a pleasant surprise for him, because it means there is a chance he'll get to see her around the paddock more frequently. And the thought makes him happier than it should.

Franco leans back, a playful smirk on his lips, “I see you, mystery girl. You seem to be full of surprises.”

“What about you?” she challenges him, copying his body language. “Who’s Franco when he’s not in the car?”

He grins, amused by her question. He takes one more sip of his drink, swirling the amber liquid around, stalling for a moment before he decides on his answer.

“Gonna sound cringey if I say I’m just a regular guy?”

“Oh, dear God,” she laughs, and Franco's eyes light up at the sound of it.

“I mean, I like the simple things, you know? Hanging out with my friends, music, enjoying good food… and drinks,” he continues in a suggestive manner.

“And drinks,” she repeats, nodding at his insinuation.

She looks back at him through her eyelashes, realizing for the first time since they bumped into each other tonight how late it must be. But, somehow, time seems to stay still when she catches him staring, her heartbeat fastening.

Franco’s gaze darkens slightly, the tension between them becoming suddenly palpable.

“And pretty girls,” he adds, lifting the glass and emptying it in one go, without breaking eye contact.

The warmth blooming in her chest catches her off guard, spreading from her neck to her cheeks as she shifts slightly, desperate to escape the intensity of his gaze. She tells herself it’s just the alcohol, of course. But then his lips quirk into a small, knowing smile, and her heart stumbles again in a way she can’t control it.

It’s not the alcohol, she realizes; it’s him.

It’s the way Franco looks at her like she’s something worth getting lost in, and she’s not sure she knows how to handle that.

He puts the glass back on the table and leans in slightly, as his eyes flicking from her lips to her eyes, and back again.

She looks at him, intently, feeling the warmth, and the way his breath hitches. It’s not just what she finds behind his gaze — it’s the reflection of her own desire, the undeniable pull that could easily make her lose it, if she's not careful.

And the realization is overwhelming.

“I think… we should call it a night?” she does not sound confident in the slightest.

“Probably a good idea,” replies Franco, studying her expression for a moment.

By the time they get to the elevator, the tension settles over them like a heavy blanket. He stands close, his hand brushing against hers as they walk inside, their gazes meeting in the reflective walls of the elevator the moment the doors close.

“Can you press 7 for me?” she asks, stepping back and waiting patiently.

He smirks, leaning over to do so, then he presses his own floor, just a few levels up.

The faint hum of the elevator is the only sound that surrounds them, but it barely registers over the rapid beating of her heart. Franco’s scent surrounds her from every direction, remembering the same unique smell from earlier.

His eyes catch hers in the mirrors again, and the look is almost unbearable, even through the reflection. They both know that, whatever this is, it's begging to snap. And it will. It's just a matter of when.

Every nerve in her body is dancing on the edge of patience — or lack thereof — and when he finally turns to look at her, slow and deliberate, she can't help but smile.

He takes it as a sign.

After that, Franco doesn’t think anymore — he just acts, leaning in, bringing his hand to her cheek as their lips meet in a soft, lingering kiss that deepens gradually, both of them feeling the weight of the night hanging heavily on their shoulders.

The kiss is experimental at first, like he asks a gentle question to which she answers to with a soft press of her lips on his. Then suddenly, they both start to feel the adrenaline of being in each other's space like that — so close and heated up, that it makes them wonder what contributed to the state they're in.

Aside from the alcohol, of course.

The elevator feels way smaller when Franco's free hand finds home on her waist, his fingers pushing the jacket away and then her blouse, gripping her warm flesh. The air gets heavier as they kiss, the oxygen becoming a secondary need for them, after tasting each other.

The soft ding of the doors opening goes almost unnoticed. But then she pulls back, stepping away, just enough to put some distance between them. Her lips are tingling with the aftertaste, mind so dizzy that her legs are currently made of jelly. She's about to step out when Franco's hands pulls her back to him by the edges of the jacket, their bodies colliding halfway.

So are their lips.

“That was me,” she manages, whispering against his mouth, her voice shaking slightly.

“Not tonight,” he murmurs, his voice low as he attaches his lips to hers again.

They stumble together, barely registering the way the doors close again to take them up to his floor. And by the time they reach his room, her back presses against the door as he fumbles for the key card, their mouths never straying far from each other.

Inside, the dim light of the room casts a golden hue, welcoming them as if it's not the first time.

“We walked through rain,” she reminds Franco, flushed as she catches sight of both their reflections in the mirror that’s hanged on the wall in the hallway. “Shouldn't we shower first?” she asks with a nervous laugh.

Franco smirks, his accent thick with the heat of the moment, “Ahora eso no me importa nada, bebita.” (I don't care about that at all now, baby.)

“No… vamos a ducharnos, por favor,” she cuts him off, “I feel dirty.” (No… let’s take a shower, please.)

Franco freezes for a split second, his eyes snapping to hers with a mix of surprise and something deeper, more intimate. He feels as though she has cast a spell on him, leaving Franco unable to resist doing everything in his power to fulfill her every desire, right here, and right now.

“¿Hablas español?” his voice is tinged with a boyish curiosity, as if her understanding of his language has just unlocked another layer between them.

It makes his head spin.

And that makes her smile.

“Un poquito,” the Spanish words roll off her tongue effortlessly, and he can’t help the slow grin spreading across his face.

“This just got even more dangerous,” he admits with a chuckle.

She lets out a breathy laugh as he steps back, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. Her pulse quickens at the sight of him, the lean definition of his torso illuminated under the soft light. Franco follows, finally ripping off her — his — jacket, then her blouse, revealing her smooth skin.

Each piece of clothing dropped on the floor is another barrier that’s falling away, leaving a messy trail to the bathroom.

His hands roam up and down her body, frantically, kissing slopply until they get inside. Franco lets the shower run, stepping back for a moment, his breath catching as his eyes take her in completely, as if he just realized they are completely naked — no barriers, no hesitations, no inhibitions, just them.

It overwhelms him. The way the light skims over her skin, highlighting every curve and line. It reminds him of the first time he jumped into an F1 car and how each of his senses was somehow heightened up to the max, his pulse quickened by the gravity of what he was about to experience. He was over the moon then, and he’s over the moon now, though this time around, everything feels infinitely more personal.

“You're staring,” she notices his lingering eyes, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

Instead of contradicting her, Franco reaches for her hand, guiding her toward the shower. The steamy air envelops their bodies, giving them a sense of comfort and safety. She steps in first, letting the water cascade over her. He follows closely, pausing just before the spray to watch her tilt her head back, the droplets tracing paths down her body.

Franco swallows hard, parts of him awakening at the sight of her, while the heat soaks into his skin almost as quickly as the feeling of her presence does. His hands find her waist instinctively, pulling her in while his chest presses into her back.

The steam cloaks them in a moment that feels completely detached from reality.

He brings his hand up to tuck her hair out of the way, then he leans down to press his lips on her neck. She closes her eyes for a short moment, admiring his tenderness, but something tells her that it's him who needs it more. She turns around in his arms, finally facing each other again, her heart picking up the pace once she sees his hooded eyes filled with nothing but want.

“Turn around,” she tells him, managing to get a confused expression in return.

However, he doesn't question her, complying, while she stands on her tiptoes to reach his hair. Her fingers start threading through it with care, massaging shampoo into a lather. At first, it’s easy — an act of intimacy that’s supposed to bring them closer. But then she notices the way Franco’s shoulders sag under her touch, the tension radiating from him like a silent cry for help.

Her movements slow down, “Franco…?” she says softly, stepping closer.

He exhales sharply, his head tilting forward, “It’s fucking stupid, I don’t know why it scared me so much,” he murmurs, the words raw and heavy.

She doesn’t ask him to elaborate — she doesn’t need to. Everyone saw the state his car was in after the crash; of course it scared him.

She remembers holding her breath, the way time seemed to stop until she saw him climb out unscathed.

“It’s not stupid,” she assures him, her hands sliding down to rest on his shoulder blades, placing a tiny kiss between them, “You’re okay, Franco. It’s all that matters.”

He turns around, slowly, the water falling over his face, his expression torn between vulnerability and something deeper, something he doesn’t know how to name. It's not shame, but it could be.

Her hands rise to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his wet cheekbones. As a response to that, Franco leans down, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths blending in the warmth of the shower.

“How did I come across you…,” he whispers thoughtfully, feeling her hands sliding down his chest, slick with water and soap.

As her touch grounds him, something shifts between them in an instant.

The vulnerability melts into something else entirely — a need, urgent and impossible to ignore. When their lips touch again, her back presses against the cool tile behind her, the contrast making her gasp as his hands find her waist, drawing her closer. The water pools around them like it's simply forgotten, as the intimacy of the moment consumes them both to the point it washes away the fear and everything else in between, leaving behind only one thing — the present moment. The now.

“I know we're both un poquito tipsy and the alcohol would be such a pathetic excuse tomorrow morning, but you have to understand that I've wanted you since we were in the car, and I wasn't drunk then.”

His confession makes her heart tighten, smiling up at him.

“Okay,” she says, giggling while looping her arms around Franco's waist to bring him closer to where she wants him.

Franco chuckles, “Okay?”

“Okay,” she repeats, feeling his hands cupping her breasts, making her whimper as a result.

He pauses for a moment as he looks at her reacting to his touch. “Are you sure?”

She nods, arching more into his touch.

To cover her sounds, his lips attach back to her mouth, moving against hers with increasing fervor, the weight of the day dissolving into the way she kisses him back. Her hands slide up his chest, water-slicked skin beneath her fingertips, and she presses closer, desperate to erase the lingering fear she can still feel surrounding him.

“Franco…” she whispers his name against his lips, her voice shaky, but laced with want. “Let me help?”

He doesn't need words to reply, instead he's deciding on tilting her chin up to deepen the kiss. The other hand wanders all over her body, mapping out her curves that fit against him as though they were always meant to. Her head falls back, resting on the wall as his lips move from her mouth to her jaw, then lower, tracing a line along the column of her neck, discovering her sweet spots for the first time.

“Is this good?” he asks, reaching her thighs, brushing the pads of his fingers between them and pushing his hand further, gently opening her.

“Yes…” she agrees, moving her hips against his hand, forcing his fingers inside her.

Her moans sound like they are accompanied by a choir of drunken angels, encouraging him to find a pace, fucking his fingers in and out until he feels her squeeze him tightly.

Her arms are draping around his shoulders, pulling him towards her tightly.

“Franco,” the girl gasps his name into his wet skin before she lowers her head to watch his fingers slipping free of her.

“Joder. You're so sensitive, cariño,” he figures, widening his eyes at her.

She looks back at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly, “That turns you on?”

“Sí...” he responds gruffly, taking a small step back, his eyes not leaving her body, drinking in every curve.

“Do something about it,” she urges, raising one leg up on his thigh.

Franco gets the memo, lifting her in his arms. Her legs instinctively wrap around his waist, the motion pulling him even closer. For a moment, everything else disappears — the crash, the weight of the day, the entire world. There is only her, her touch, her breath, her whispered name for him that sends his heart racing faster than any race car ever could.

She grips his shoulders tightly as he hovers above her. His dark eyes lock onto hers with an intensity that leaves her breathless, and Franco can't be sure either of them are breathing as he guides his cock to her entrance, hissing at the contact before sliding inside.

“Ay, fuck,” he breaths hard, feeling her body welcome him in, warm and wet.

She can't help but moan at how full she feels once he's all in.

Franco lets out another low grunt, his body responding to hers. He's struggling to hold back, to control the need that's consuming him. But soon, he realizes he can't resist the feeling of being inside her. So, he starts moving, slow at first.

“Feeling you so thight around me,” he mutters against her skin, “Fuck, there you go, cariño,” he ends up proppting a hand on the wall next to her head, to steady himself when he feels her fucking back against him.

“Franco, please,” she whimpers, digging her fingernails into his shoulders, breathing heavily at the sweet stretch.

Franco lets out a shaky breath, sliding all the way inside her, again and again, until his brain turns into mush. “You're so good, bebé. So good, unbelievable,” he rambles, his thrusts so slow and gentle, that make her see little white dots all around.

His mouth finds hers again, kissing her intently while fucking her so painfully slowly. It bothers her, but she knows it's about him right now; she doesn’t want him to rush. Franco's had enough of that today; enough speed, enough chaos. He doesn’t need to race toward the finish this time.

If he needs it slow, then she can take him that way.

She cups his face in her palms, forcing his eyes back on her — such a rookie mistake. The sight of him looking through wet eyelashes and glossy lips makes her pussy clench involuntarily around his cock, aggravating the need for him, causing a string of moans out of her mouth.

“Fran…” she loses her head, squeezing her eyes closed and rocking her hips harder against the wall to meet Franco halfway.

The way she molds to his rhythm, grounding him in the here and now, sends Franco to a completely different universe, where everything is pleasure. He needs it. Not to escape, but to rebuild himself.

They move together, each of his thrusts a reminder that not everything has to be fast to be meaningful, or to take your breath away — she's never been this close to coming from such a slow fuck before. His cock is hard and demanding inside her, though, throbbing against her walls the second he decides to pull all the way out, so he can fuck back in, finally setting a more alert pace.

“So good for me, aren't you? Letting me have my way like this?” asks Franco, his tone high and breathless. “Even though it's not how you like it, no?”

He's so close to the edge, too. She can sense it in the way his breaths are ragged and erratic.

“Talk to me, bébé. What do you want?”

“Mhm… more,” she manages, her body so close to collapsing in his arms.

That's all Franco needs to hear. His control snaps, the need and the pressure taking over as he lets out a low moan, “Sí, cariño... I've got you.”

He grabs her hips firmly, his fingers leaving indents on her skin as he slams into her harder, the feeling leaving her gasping for air. Franco smiles, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her wet skin.

“God, Franco. Don't—yes, don't stop.”

“So tight, and pretty, and hot, and—fuck, you're not real, bébé,” he's muttering in between deep thrusts, his words half-incoherent as he moves inside her, giving in to the primal lust, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

He can hear how wet she is, knowing it's just a matter of time until she finally lets go. So, he rises his head slightly, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, his voice raw and rough.

Franco's grip on her hips tightens, and it's almost painful, but then he suddenly stops, his body stilling inside her, the pleasure receding just slightly as he feels her come all over his throbbing length.

It takes everything in him to stop himself from following her, thrusting a couple more times to prolong her high. Then, he pulls out completely, guiding his cock between their bodies and pressing into her until his cum starts leaking onto her stomach. For a few seconds, it leaves a hot, dense trail before the water washes it away.

“Oh, my…” she breaths heavily, struggling to find her words.

As Franco finally releases his hold on her thighs, her legs falter beneath her, the strength utterly sapped from them. The slippery tile meets her feet, so unsteady, her body still trembling from the intensity her orgasm. Instinctively, her hands grip his arm, clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping her from falling.

“Tranquila, bebita. ¿Estás bien?” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, while turning the water off. (Easy, baby. Are you okay?)

She lets out a soft, shaky laugh. “Sí.”

Franco chuckles softly, his grip on her tightening slightly.

For some reason, he feels the need to hold her, as though he’s afraid she might slip away — not in the shower, but from him.

“Have you ever been to Argentina?”

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

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