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neoyvks · 8 months

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what you do to me – lh44 (+18)

masterlist

Summary: The one where Lewis returns home to you – the one thing he desperately wants, but won't let himself have completely.

Pairing: lewis hamilton x fwb!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: angst, feelings, friends with benefits relationship, smut!, slight choking, unprotected sex (wrap your willy, don’t be silly!), slight manhandling?, pwp, minors dni!!

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! my boyfriend forced me to watch hellraiser the other day, and there was this one scene that i could just not thinking about so i wanted to write something inspired by it, and who better to write it about than sir lewis hamilton?? also, i reaaaallly wanted to write a friends with benefits thing and it was so much fun, i honestly wasn’t expecting. the title of this fic is actually a john legend song that i love and i think it fits the vibes for this fic, so please feel free to give it a listen if you're interested! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

It’s a shame Lewis doesn’t spend more time in his Monte Carlo penthouse during the season because it’s a space he enjoys spending time in so much. He doesn’t mind being alone in his home – if anything, it’s refreshing after spending so much time being the focal point of so many cameras during the season. Also, technically, he is not alone he supposes; he has Roscoe to keep him company when he’s home, after all.

Coming home from a successful season is rewarding, he feels as if he’s deserved the rest he looks forward to. On the other hand, coming home from a not-so-successful season? Well he feels like shit – both mentally and physically. That is not to say that he doesn’t appreciate the time off, though, he is more than happy to not drive for weeks and just enjoy the winter break. Coming home is also always kind of bittersweet. He catches up with some of his friends he didn’t have time for during the season, his family who always support him through thick and thin, but most importantly he tries to make time for you and your… well, arrangement.

He knows something is wrong the minute you reply to his text about him being home. A simple okay is not a response he is used to getting from you. Alas, he shakes off the unease and chalks it up to a hectic day on your end. The pitter patter of Roscoe’s paws on the hardwood floors is enough to distract him from the situation, given the fact that the puppy is impatient for his dinner and is looking at the driver with pleading eyes.

“Okay ‘Coe,” he mumbles as he motions the kitchen with his head, “let’s go.”

The way Roscoe wobbles towards the kitchen brings a small smile to Lewis’ face even though he is still hung up on your answer. After he’s done feeding the puppy, he decides to grab a quick shower to ease the tiredness that comes from a long travel day. The hot water cascading down from the rainfall shower does a good job of taking care of his sore muscles, and he is more than happy to stay under the warm water if it means the soreness will go away. That is until he hears banging coming from his front door. He has every intention of just ignoring the person on the other side of the door; however, as the knocks get more and more persistent, he gets out of the shower with a groan. Wrapping a towel around his hips, he marches towards the front door, and looks through the peephole only to end up opening the door quicker than he would’ve liked.

His voice is confused as he mumbles out, “Lovey?” But you just straighten up from your position of leaning against the wall and throw your bag on the floor as you push your way through his apartment and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches as you attempt to hide yourself in the crook of his neck, and he is not sure what he’s supposed to do with his hands for a moment. “Hey,” he calls out softly, “what’s wrong?”

You pull back slightly to look into his worried eyes, “Just kiss me.” Your voice comes out somewhere between a whisper and a sob, and you can see the hesitation in Lewis’ eyes, but you just pull him towards you as you press a soft kiss on his lips, “Please.”

“What happened?” He tries once again to get an answer from you, but you shut down his attempt as you press your lips against his once more, more assertive this time. And who is he to deny you your wishes? So, like the perfect gentleman he is, he reciprocates your kiss with a one of his own as he wraps his arms around you to signal you to jump. Thankfully, you are so tuned with each other that you end up jumping up anyway, and he picks you up as you wrap your legs around his hips. Closing the door, he starts walking back towards his bedroom as your lips start moving more frantically against his own. “Slow down,” he warns, pulling back to give both of you a chance to breathe, “we have all night.”

Whining at the loss of contact from his lips, and you let your dissatisfaction known by attempting to roll your hips against his bare stomach, “Don’t wanna.” There’s still a lingering sob in your voice, but it is more reflective of the neediness you feel now that you have him between your arms – and legs. Lewis lets his hands roam down towards your ass to give you a warning squeeze – a one, maybe you would’ve been threatened by it if you weren’t so lost in him at the moment. You try your best to ignore the look he gives you, one filled with sternness; so instead, you move your lips downwards towards Lewis’ neck with another roll of your hips. “I missed you.”

He stills the movement of your hips as he simultaneously releases an appreciative groan at the way your lips feel on his skin. “I missed you too, lovey.” He is careful as he approaches his bed and sits down on the plush mattress with you still in his arms. Wrapping a hand around your hair to tilt your head back so he can look into your eyes again, he attempts to keep himself from becoming hard from the mere prospect of you wrapping your body around his. His eyes search yours for answers as to your sour mood, “Tell me what’s wrong, bad day?”

“Try bad month,” you scoff, letting your hands slide over his, somehow, still damp torso. “You weren’t here,” you explain as you free yourself from his hold on your hair and take off your sweatshirt, “don’t wan’ to talk about it.”

“Well, I’m here now.” A sudden realisation that you are not wearing anything under your top comes to Lewis, and he has to mentally restrain himself from doing something rash. “Not wearing a bra?” He asks, one of his eyebrows raised.

You let out a confirming hum, “Not wearing any underwear either.” Giving him an innocent smile at the groan he gets out, you shrug your shoulders nonchalantly, “Thought they’d get in the way.” His hands feel warm on your bare skin as he drags them up on your body to gently cup your exposed breasts, causing you to brace yourself by hanging onto his shoulder for support. Whining as you feel his thumb make contact with your sensitive nipple, you decide to pull him in for another kiss, mumbling a breathy, “Kiss me,” against his lips.

He obliges your request, of course, but he doesn’t let you control the kiss like you would’ve liked to. Instead, he stops the kiss by gently biting down on your lip before you can deepen it. With a small pat to your hip, he mumbles, “Get up, let me see you.” The look he gives you is just so full of adoration that you have no other choice to get up from his lap with the slowest moves you can muster. His eyes never leave you when you take a step back so that he can see you, all of you, and with the small nod he gives you, you begin taking off your leggings and shoes. That’s the thing about Lewis – for someone who is in the spotlight most of their time, he loves watching. And it is not only limited to the bedroom, you realise, he watches you even when you are doing mundane things together, like grocery shopping or walking Roscoe, domestic things that couples do together. But you can’t think about that, no, because both of you agreed that this was only physical and nothing more. Shaking the thoughts away, you straighten up from your bent position only to find Lewis looking you with a much darker look in his eyes. He’s dangerous, when he looks like that, you realise, he could break you into pieces with just his words, and the worst part is that you’d absolutely let him. “Pretty girl,” he whispers into the distance between you, and you take the hand he extends towards you for him to pull you against himself. The feeling of his lips on your skin almost feel feverish, and you find yourself releasing a gasp. “You’re the prettiest girl ever, lovey.”

“Lewis,” you brokenly whisper, your voice would be bordering on whiny with all the neediness that comes with it, “please, I need you.” The pleading look you give him is vulnerable, if not desperate.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips leaving another open-mouthed kiss, this time closer to your lower belly. His voice does a good job of soothing your erratic mind, his arms envelope you as he promises, “Whatever it is I’m here now, tell me what you want.”

He does a good job of putting you on the spot, you think, but unlike your usual self, you don’t have the patience for teasing tonight. “I want you to fuck me,” your voice comes off stronger than before, but it wavers as you also add, “please.” The last word brings a small smirk to Lewis’ face, and you let out a shriek as he quickly throws you onto the bed. “You almost scared me to death,” you complain, pushing out your lower lip in a pout.

“You’ll be fine,” he lets out a breathy laugh while quickly getting rid of the towel still, miraculously, hanging on his hips. The smirk on his face grows as he watches you shamelessly checking him out, but he never breaks his gaze from yours when your eyes meet as he wraps a hand around his cock to jerk himself for a few times. You spread your legs to accommodate his body as he leans over your lying figure by using his free arm as support. Rubbing the tip of his cock through your slick slit a few times, you can feel his breathy chuckle hit your skin while his lips run over your jaw to leave small kisses. “You’re so wet for me,” he mumbles, and the whimper that leaves your lips when he makes a point to rub his tip over your clit wins another chuckle, “you’re gonna be good for me?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble as you nod frantically, “yes Lu, I’m gonna be good, I promise. Please, just fuck me.” You try to tempt him by wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him closer – either you are successful and he gives in, or he is just as desperate to get inside you as you are desperate to feeling him because he complies with your movements as he nudges the tip of his cock into you in a slow push forward. The stretch is burning every single time, and usually he gives you enough time to accommodate his size before proceeding to fuck your brains out. But this time, he doesn’t waste any time as he pushes himself fully into you until he’s buried inside you to the hilt. The gasp you begin to let out turns into a silent scream as the feeling of being full consumes you, “Fuck, Lewis–”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothes you through the initial pain, “you’re alright, just breathe th for a bit.” And you do what he tells you to because… well, you know he won’t do anything to hurt you. He brings his free hand towards your face to cup your cheek, which you respond by turning your head towards the warmness. “Tell me when the pain goes away,” he whispers against your skin – he finds he absolutely loves the way your skin flushes every single time he fucks you, and the thought makes him freeze for a second. Love? That is not something he should be thinking about, not especially when he’s buried inside you, because you both agreed–

Deciding to respond wordlessly, you press a soft kiss in the middle of Lewis’ palm, whilst also attempting to roll your hips, but then whining because of the additional pressure, “Please, Lewis, please move.”

That must’ve done the job of breaking Lewis out of whatever trance he was in, because once he hears your whiny voice pleading him to move, he starts thrusting his hip in and out of you in a rhythm that simply leaves you breathless in mere seconds. It’s the stress of the season, you think to yourself, but Lewis’ movements just get faster and deeper until he hits that one spot inside you that makes your whines turn into a scream and has you arching into him. You can’t see his reaction with your eyes fluttered close, but he stills his movements for a few moments as he looks at you as if you’re the most precious thing in his life. He waits until your erratic breathing to get back to normal before he starts rolling his hips against yours again, but this time the tempo he adopts is much slower, sensual, and almost… too intimate for it to only be considered physical between the two of you.

Your eyes flutter open as you look at him with confusion, “Wha– What are you–?” But he only cuts you off by pressing his lips against you to swallow your question in a kiss. The slower tempo is surprisingly more pleasurable then his usual style that you’ve dubbed fast and furious, and every time his hips roll at a certain angle, he brushes your clit in a way that makes your feet curl in pleasure.

He is breathless when he pulls away from the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, but then again, so are you. The way he seems to gaze into your eyes make your breath hitch, and if you thought that was Lewis showing his emotions, he decides to put them into words. “So good for me, lovey,” he moans, yes moans because one thing you’ve learned from the start is that real men moan, “you were made for me, weren’t you?” His accent gets thicker, which is a tell that he’s getting there, but he won’t let himself come before he makes sure you’re taken care of. “Look at how you’re taking me, reckon I can feel myself if I place my hand on your belly?” It makes him laugh when you whine as you attempt to slither your hand towards your stomach to test his theory, but one deep stroke of his hips and your arms envelope them around his shoulders to use him as a support. “Perfect, you’re just perfect for me, hm? My perfect, pretty, little girl.”

“Please,” you whimper out, the tears that form in the corner of your eyes threatening to fall, “I’m so close.” It’s been such an emotional day, and a shitty month that all you wanted was to be consumed by him – and now that you have him in your arms, acting like you are more than just two friends who use each other for something so trivial and human as urges, you don’t want to let him go. Especially not when he makes you feel like you could love him for the rest of your life. Even if just the thought of it is enough to make your heart race. Needless to say, the sob you let out is unexpected on both of your ends, and you know he’s about to stop when he slows down even more, but you give him a stern look through your tears, “Don’t you dare stop.” You moan, loud enough for his neighbours downstairs to hear, once he picks up the pace again, but it’s still slow enough for it to be considered love making and not fucking by both of your standards.

He knows you’re close when your walls start clenching around him, which makes it much harder for him to compose himself. So, being the perfect gentleman he is, he starts rubbing your clit with one of his hands, his fingers work hard to bring you even more pleasure. He watches in amazement as you trash around under his body and as your whimpers and moans get louder gradually – until you are coming undone around him, starting to sob because of the pressure gets released in your tummy, that is. His hips still continue their languid movements, just like the faster movement of his fingers, as he fucks you through your release, mumbling sweet nothings and encouragements into your ear. Lewis does his best to kiss the tears that escape from your eyes, his breath fanning over your feverish skin.

“So good,” your moans get softer as you get calmer after a while, though your voice is still scratchy, “wanna feel you more, Lu.” Sliding your hand between your bodies to take his hand away from your clit, the loss of his touch makes you whine softly and he watches you in confusion while still continuing his movements slowly, but you see the way his eyes light up with a dark look when you wrap his fingers around your throat, and thankfully he understands the message as he tightens his hold just the way you like it. “Yeah, just like that,” you moan, encouraging him to pick up the pace. This time, it’s your turn to whisper praises riddled with encouragement, and you know it gets to him, because every single stroke his hips deliver end up making him fill you more and more, as if that was possible. The sobs coming from your lips transform into ones of pleasure, bringing Lewis closer and closer to his release.

“Look at me,” his voice is sharp, and it makes you immediately fix your eyes on his. There is an immense sense of wanting to please him, or rather make him proud within you, and he rewards you with a burning kiss that leaves you panting and wanting more as he spills himself into you. As he pulls away to moan out your name, his thumb dragging down your bottom lip. You gently bite down on his thumb while you manage to get out a satisfied moan, eyes closing ever so slightly as you feel him spill into you, and he keeps pulling you even closer to himself when he lets his body fall next to yours.

You have no idea how he manages to still stay inside you, but you can feel his lips pressing gentle kisses across your hairline, and brushing away the sweaty strands. “You feel better now, lovey?” Smiling at the tiredness dripping from his voice, you hum airily, a satisfied smile on your face while you move your neck to look at him. “Good,” his whisper brushes your lips as he nudges the tip of your nose with his, earning a giggle from you while he wipes away the dry tears on your cheeks.

“Do you have to leave?” There is a whiny undertone to your question, and it makes him give you a gentle smile.

“Not for a while,” he assures you, then he presses his lips softly on yours in a small kiss, “I promise.”

He grabs your hand to weave his fingers through yours, pressing gentle kisses to your knuckles as he keeps silent for a moment – because he knows at that moment, just because you asked, he’ll cancel every single plan he’s made, just to spend more time with you so that he can make you smile like that. “Until you get sick of me, that is.” Your tired laughter fills his ears until it is interrupted by a yawn. He carefully moves you so that he gently takes himself out of you, and rolls you sideways so he can wrap his arms around as he pulls you close to cuddle. “Go to sleep, lovey, we’ll talk in the morning,” he mumbles as he presses soft kisses to your bare shoulder. You close your eyes with a smile on your face, burying yourself into his chest as much as you can, and hear him mumble, “My lovey,” before promptly falling asleep.

You pretend you didn’t hear him in the morning because the arrangement the two of you made was about keeping things causal.

But you respond by squeezing his hand three times in return anyway.

And he responds.

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neoyvks · 8 months

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karma | lh44

"karma is the guy on the screen coming straight home to me"

summary: seeing her toxic ex was never fun, but maybe it was less fun for him when he realized she was currently dating the GP winner on the screen, who happened to be his favourite driver

warning: overall fluff between the main characters, platonic!reader x valtteri bottas, mentions of a toxic ex-boyfriend, mentions of ex-boyfriend cheating, slut-shaming, swearing, alcohol consumption, reader is a little toxic to her ex (but he deserves it lol)

pairing: lewis hamilton x reader

word count: 3.6k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past.

it has been a really hard week for me with work, but I really hope you enjoy this surprise either way!

masterlist

You're talking shit for the hell of it

Addicted to betrayal, but you're relevant

You're terrified to look down

'Cause if you dare, you'll see the glare

Of everyone you burned just to get there

It's coming back around

Paddock life was equally as exciting and terrifying for Y/N.

Even after becoming a usual guest during race weekends during the last few months, the young woman couldn’t help but feel a little nervousness in her stomach every time she walked on the circuit, still not used to all the attention and eyes on her.

Since the first time Lewis decided to enter the paddock holding hands with a mystery woman, everything in her life had turned chaotic to say the least. Every single person in there was shaken to the core, especially because he wasn’t exactly known to be so public with his dating life through the last years of his career. So naturally, curiosity spread through the air like a disease.

Not that it mattered to Y/N, all of that amounted to nothing when she remembered the real reason for her presence there: supporting her amazingly talented boyfriend. Lewis had been her best friend, her lover, and her biggest supporter since the day they met. She tried as much as she could to be the same for him, knowing how much her being there meant to him.

And to be completely honest, she had a hunch on how much it pushed him to do better. Even if subconsciously, the driver always had his best performances in his car when he knew he had his girlfriend to impress, no matter how many times she told him he was the best regardless of his race results.

Despite all of that, of course developing a handful of friendships with some of the drivers, as well as their partners, gave her a significant sense of comfort there, knowing she had someone who she could rely on if needed. And the perfect example of that was the quick and playful bond she formed with her favourite Finnish driver, while he was still her boyfriend’s teammate at Mercedes.

“Well, well, well. Look at that. Miss Y/N L/N herself, in the flesh!” Valtteri said as he approached her, with his typical sweet grin on his face. The woman felt her body instantly relax at the sight of her good friend, the stress now forgotten on the back of her head.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my second favourite driver on the grid.” She laughed, giving him a swift side hug, as they proceeded their walks.

“Only second?” The blonde driver asked, hand on his chest. “Lewis is not even here, Y/N. You don’t have to lie, you know.”

Their conversation continued for a few minutes, as they now walked side by side, arms linked in a friendly manner. Him asking her how her Sunday was going, and her asking him about his unlucky DNF during the race that ended just minutes before.

As they reached the Alfa Romeo’s motorhome, in true big brother and little sister fashion, Valtteri kissed her on her cheek and messed her hair up a little, winning a shove from the girl as she tried to fix herself.

“Wow. You’re a groupie now? Never knew you could stoop so low.”

And I keep my side of the street clean

You wouldn't know what I mean

Ugh, not that irritating voice.

Not him. Not in here. Not now.

She could feel her eyes betray her, as they couldn’t hide her shock and disgust when they landed on the big figure behind her. Of all people she could come across on the paddock, her lying cheating ex-boyfriend would be the one. Just my luck, she thought to herself.

“Oh fuck off, Jason.” She spat out, angry. After all, why would she even give that piece of trash the time of day? She tried to turn around and make her way back to the podium that was about to start any minute now but was stopped by a hand that tugged at her arm.

Unable to flee, Y/N was forced again to look into the face of the man she hoped never to see again. But you know what, she kept her calm. She had learned a lot from all those years and all those tears.

Especially that what goes around always comes around.

"So you're whoring around now for paddock passes?" He laughed in her face, for the thousandth time in his life. Jason had always made a point of trying to bring down the girl's self-esteem, so Y/N wasn't expecting anything different from him this time around.

As she prepared to answer him back, already tired and furious by the whole situation, the hairs on her neck stood up as she heard a recognizable click. Y/N's head followed the sound until she spotted the (unfortunately) familiar figure of a photographer, automatically panicking. She knew this man was known for having no boundaries and no respect for people's privacy. She could already imagine the descriptions given to these photographs out of context.

"AFFAIR? Lewis Hamilton's girlfriend seen in an altercation with a mystery man"

"Y/N L/N caught reuniting with ex while missing the 7-time World Champion's podium"

Can this get any worse, she thought.

"He must be confusing you with someone actually relevant. Why the hell would anyone want pictures of you?" Jason burst into laughter, shaking his head. "Damn Y/N, you must have been working well around here if you've reached that level of fame. How many drivers did you sleep with?"

It definitely can, she shook her head to herself.

'Cause karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

Karma's a relaxing thought

Aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Sweet like honey, karma is a cat

Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me

Flexing like a goddamn acrobat

Me and karma vibe like that

Karma's gonna track you down, karma's gonna track you down, karma's gonna track you down, the young woman repeated in her head like a prayer, trying to maintain her posture.

Although all she wanted was to ruin that clown's face right then and there, she knew that not only her image but her boyfriend's reputation were dependent on how she was going to handle this confrontation.

"This was a lot of fun and all, and I'm glad you enjoyed yourself with all the shit that comes out of your mouth, but I really have to go." She said so that only he could hear, not caring if she was being rude, and with her eyes studying what the photographer was doing from time to time. "My boyfriend is waiting for me and I have nothing to tell you. Goodbye, have a nice trip to hell."

"Boyfriend? Sure. Where is he then?" He continued to mock her, pretending to look around in search of someone. "I've heard better lies. But tell me then, where is that "boyfriend" of yours." He spoke, quoting on air when the word "boyfriend" was mentioned.

Oh.

You're going to wish you never asked that.

Spiderboy, king of thieves

Weave your little webs of opacity

My pennies made your crown

Trick me once, trick me twice

Don't you know that cash ain't the only price?

It's coming back around

"Y/N, I know we came on this vacation to unwind a bit, but you have to take it easy on alcohol." Her best friend said, trying to take the glass from her hand.

"Oh don't be a jerk, I deserve at least a good drink after all." She pulled the glass back to her mouth, spilling part of her expensive mojito on the floor.

"Yes, one, maybe even two. Not four in the space of two hours." Emma criticized. "I know you're having a hard time, I really do. But you can't go on like this. It's not healthy."

The young woman knew it was not healthy behaviour. But after discovering her boyfriend of 2 years, fooling around in their bed, in their apartment, with his co-worker, she felt she deserved a good time.

Apparently, it wasn't enough to endure that awful relationship in silence: the dishonesty, the jealousy, the lack of support, the control over her life, and the constant disrespect. Having to come face to face with the man she shared her life with all that time with another woman? Karma tricked her once or twice, but not at this level.

"We're in fucking Monaco, babe." She walked around the middle of the casino, eventually losing her friend, arms stretched. "Let's have some fucking fun-"

Before she could finish her sentence, her back hit someone behind her. Drinks flew and her dress was now all soaked, as was the man's blue suit. Y/N heard some curse words coming out of the guy's mouth, along with an irresistible British accent.

Although the situation was not the most appropriate, she couldn't help but feel heat spread through her body at the sound of that attractive voice.

She turned, prepared to flirt with the stranger until she recognized him as soon as she saw his face directly.

"You of all people." She said, tipsy enough to no longer have a filter.

"Me?"

And I keep my side of the street clean

You wouldn't know what I mean

"Yeah, you!" She pointed to him, touching his chest.

The man couldn't be more confused. Had they met before? Was she a fan of a rival team to Mercedes? Did he win a championship against the girl's favourite driver?

His life was Formula 1. He devoted all his time, all his energy, all his life to the sport. Therefore, the only justifications that came to mind at that moment were those.

"Do I know you?" His nose and forehead scrunched up in a puzzled expression.

"You don't know me." Y/N declared, crossing her arms in front of her figure. "But I know damn well who you are, Lewis Hamilton."

The way she said his name with disdain made the brit uncomfortable. So she knew who he is after all. Leaving Lewis speechless was something people rarely managed to do and at that moment he didn't know if it was motivated by the young woman's boldness or her beauty.

God, she was amazing. Okay, maybe she wasn't necessarily the biggest fan of him. Or at all really. But he couldn't help but admire her from head to toe.

Her eyes revealed her state, showing that the girl was definitely a bit tipsy, but the way they sparkled, their intense colour, was the detail that impressed him the most. How her long, curly hair perfectly adorned the front of her short black dress. The way her crossed arms highlighted her cleavage-

"Hey!" She caught his attention, waving a hand in front of her own face. "Eyes are up here, buddy! Don't think that because you're a winner or a champion or whatever your fans call you that you can look wherever you want and no one will tell you anything!"

Not a Formula 1 fan but she knew who he was. Out of the ordinary but noted.

"Ugh, you men are all the same!" She complained aloud. "No wonder that loser Jason is your biggest supporter."

"Sorry miss, but now you've lost me." He confessed, even more lost than before. "Who the fuck is Jason?" He chuckled.

"An absolute cheating, lying and disgusting clown, that's what he is." She replied as she sat down on a red sofa that was in the middle of the golden hall of the casino.

Interested in the matter (and above all, in the woman), Lewis took the seat beside her. Although he was used to the attention, the crowd of people that filled the room allowed them some privacy. No one was paying attention to him, everyone was focused on their own activities and groups, but his mind was totally on her.

"That sounds like a shitty ex-boyfriend. Especially the part where he's my biggest fan, not the cheating." Lewis told her, trying to cheer her up.

And for the first time in a long time, Y/n genuinely laughed. Not from the alcohol, not forcefully, but genuinely from the way his words warmed her broken heart.

They were silent for a few moments until the driver interrupted. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" She questioned, looking at him.

"I don't know. For your break up. For reminding you of him when he clearly hurt you." Hamilton admitted, almost ashamed.

"Nah, don't worry about it. It has nothing to do with you. I'm sorry for being a bitch to you when you are just an innocent person in the story." The woman, now beginning to sober up, spoke sincerely. "You know what, for an all-important celebrity, you're kind of a cool guy."

He laughed softly. "Thanks, I guess?"

Almost as if reading each other's thoughts, the two looked at each other and, although they didn't say it out loud, they both felt something they hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe even never.

"We should go out one of these days." He proposed.

"What?!" Y/N couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.

"You know, because of your ex. Karma has a way of serving sweet justice." He shrugged, teasing her. "Not because of me, it has nothing to do with my personal interest at all."

She immediately sensed the joking tone in his speech and couldn't help but blush a little. After all, Lewis fucking Hamilton was asking her out on a date.

"Maybe we should, champ." The two smiled.

'Cause karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

Karma's a relaxing thought

Aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Sweet like honey, karma is a cat

Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me

Flexing like a goddamn acrobat

Me and karma vibe like that

The very next day they had a dinner date set at a restaurant of his choice.

Emma had laughed in her face when Y/N told her what had happened at the casino bar during the time they'd lost each other.

The truth is it felt like a fabrication, a total lie. Y/N couldn't judge her best friend for not believing, because even she still found herself pinching her hand, expecting to wake up in her bed from a dream at any moment.

Emma helped her prepare for their date, glad to see her happy again. She didn't care who the suitor was, as long as the smile on her friend's face remained from ear to ear.

It's safe to say that her jaw dropped to the floor when she opened the door to their shared hotel room and effectively saw Lewis Hamilton.

"Is Y/N here?" He asked as he stood there, in all his magnificence, in a simple white shirt, open enough to show his dark skin and the tattoos that decorated it.

"Emma, close your mouth." Y/N joked, holding the other girl's jaw. "Hey, champ."

God, here they were again. The butterflies in their stomachs.

The date was everything the young woman expected and desired. From the way Lewis opened the door to his black Mercedes for him, to the way he went out of his way to book an entire restaurant to allow them to have more privacy.

The conversation flowed naturally, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. What started as a misunderstanding over her attempt to forget a heartbreak ended up resulting in one of the best nights of her life.

As the night began to draw to a close, the girl couldn't help but think that this would be it. She would never see the man again. He would probably forget about her in a matter of days. And she found herself disappointed with that idea.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He questioned, as his hand intertwined gently with hers. He pulled her a little to stop her on her way back to the car, bringing the two of them closer together.

"I just don't want this night to end." The words were out of her mouth before she thought about what she was saying.

"This doesn't have to stop here, baby." She released a shaky breath when she first heard the affectionate nickname, but a slow smile appeared on her face.

Ask me what I learned from all those years

Ask me what I earned from all those tears

Ask me why so many fade, but I'm still here

After that magical night, he took her back to her hotel room and said goodbye with a loving kiss on her cheek and a caress along her cheek, keeping eye contact between them whenever possible as they said "see you soon".

Not goodbye but see you soon.

And it was said and done.

Not even two weeks had gone by before the driver was on a plane on his way to her, ready to spend his race-free week with his girl.

It became usual for them: him travelling to her, her travelling to him. They knew how quickly they were evolving, especially given the conditions in which they met, but when things feel right, why hold back? Out of fear of the consequences? Because of his fame?

He felt that he had finally found the balance he so desperately needed, without even knowing it. He found himself with his head on her and not his career all the time. She gave him peace, she gave him stability, she gave him everything he wanted and more.

On the other hand, she found in him the adrenaline, the enthusiasm, the thrill. Now she woke up smiling and went to sleep smiling. Something in her was reborn, perhaps her childlike spirit: the desire to know more, and the ambition to have and be more.

Together they were just that: more.

"So?" Jason interrupted his ex's thoughts. "I'm still waiting to hear from that little boyfriend of yours."

'Cause karma is the thunder

Rattling your ground

Karma's on your scent like a bounty hunter

Karma's gonna track you down

Step by step, from town to town

Sweet like justice, karma is a queen

Karma takes all my friends to the summit

Would it be toxic of her to rub her new relationship in her ex-boyfriend's face? Perhaps.

But, I mean, sometimes you and karma just vibe like that.

"Well... You see, this is a super funny story!" The girl smiled a little Machiavellian. "Actually, I have to thank you, for everything."

"To me?" He replied, totally confused by her change in tone.

"Yes, you!" She faked a grateful smile. "If you hadn't ruined everything between us, I'd probably still be stuck in that apartment I've always hated, and worst of all, with you!"

"What the f-"

"But no, since you don't have the ability to keep your dick in your pants, I ended up in a casino in the middle of Monaco and I met the best person in the world. Someone who treats me like I deserve, supports me like I deserve, LOVES me like I deserve!"

"You're just lying in an attempt to deflect the subject." Jason argued back. "So much bullshit talk and still no sign of your new boy toy after all."

"You can watch him on the big screen if you want!" She pointed to the giant television behind her, where Lewis was getting out of his silver car, ready to collect his prize. "However, I would prefer to see my man up close if you let me. Or rather, I don't owe you anything so I don't care about what you have to say. So enjoy the show."

Jason just stood there, motionless and disbelieving. Is she fucking kidding me? Lewis Hamilton?!

Karma is the guy on the screen

Coming straight home to me

Y/N ran across the paddock towards the podium as if her life depended on it. But when she arrived at the celebration, the trophies were already handed out and the champagne was already open.

Lewis smiled even more as soon as he set his eyes on his girl, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by her or everyone around them.

His speed in the race had nothing on the speed with which he descended the stairs from the top of the winner's spot to the audience, his path perfectly aimed at her.

"Hey, where were you?" He asked, wrapping her around the waist in his arms, kissing her immediately, without giving her time to respond.

Reminded of how bad her past had been and, above all, how happy she was by his side now, she returned the kiss with an intensity that was unusual for her. The cameras, the people, they were nothing next to him.

"Wow, baby." He expressed, giggling shocked by her public display of affection. "I missed your face when I got out of the car."

"Believe me, I wanted nothing more than to be here but you'll never guess who I saw." She shook her head, laughing as they started to make their way back to the Mercedes' motorhome.

'Cause karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

Karma's a relaxing thought

Aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Sweet like honey, karma is a cat

Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me

Flexing like a goddamn acrobat

Me and karma vibe like that

They approached their destination, still wrapped around each other, eyes on each other, lips on each other.

Lewis, still completely in the dark about the altercation that had taken place minutes before, saw a mysterious figure standing there staring intensely at the two of them.

"Hey, man." He initiated a conversation, as he usually did with all the more timid fans. "Do you want an autograph?" He asked sincerely.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh, eyes still not straying away from her champion.

Karma really is a relaxing thought.

Karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Uh-huh, mm

Karma's a relaxing thought

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neoyvks · 8 months

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tolerate it ꨄ lewis hamilton

lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings: age gap (no specific age, just mentioned), angst, no hea

this is just me projecting my sadness with this song onto one of the drivers, lewis being the best option. there's a chance i may do a part 2 to this eventually, but im pretty content with how it ended for now. i hope you enjoy!

It wasn’t always like this.

There was a time when you didn’t wake up, clenching your eyes closed in the hopes that it would magically change the outcome once they opened.

There was a time when you would wake up, Lewis nuzzling his chin into the space where your neck and shoulders collided, peppering the skin with little kisses in the hopes it would wake you from your slumber.

There was a time when you didn’t have to hold your breath, when your eyes didn’t have to adjust to the lack of light in the room, just to get a small glimpse of the man you loved curled up next to you.

It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment when it had all changed. Maybe it was at the beginning of the season, maybe it was before that. You couldn’t really be too sure.

Now, you were lucky to catch a glimpse of him in the morning, lucky to even get the chance to move your eyes across his ink-coloured skin beside you. You were lucky to even get a kiss goodbye in the morning before he left, the sun barely up when he was leaving to go to training, or the factory, or God knows where.

The words between the both of you were minimal nowadays, it was more like living with a roommate you saw occasionally instead of a lover that you were supposed to be sharing a life with.

There was a time when Lewis would giggle as he read the words of his books to you in whatever animated voice he could come up with. There was a time when the art he created was a joint effort between the two of you; now, it felt like all he did was tolerate you.

It was evident neither you, nor Lewis, wanted to touch on the topic. Both of you tiptoed around each other, not wanting to open the door that would push the storm in.

There isn’t much time spent at the paddock anymore, your career becoming the main focus of your priorities. You still welcomed Lewis home after every Grand Prix, his favourite dinner’s packaged in the fridge, the linens cleaned, and his clothes prepped.

A battle hero’s welcome, one could call it.

He always politely thanked you, a gentle kiss to your forehead before he made his way to the office for the remainder of the night. There was a time when he would debrief with you after every race, watching highlight videos on the television while he explained what he did wrong, what he did right, where he could improve and where he got a little too cocky. Now he just did it alone, the door of his office tightly closed, no sound emitting from the room.

Sugarcoating it to your friends and family was difficult. They understood Lewis’ career took center stage, but they couldn’t understand why he was never around when they came to your shared apartment, why it felt like his presence wasn’t even prominent in the home at all.

There was no way to explain it, without sounding naïve, without sounding like you were just letting a relationship that was drowning, pull you down with it.

Everyone suggested different reasons. The season wasn’t going in the way Lewis had hoped. Maybe his age is finally getting to him. Maybe he’s considering retirement and it’s bothering him. Maybe the age difference between the two of you is too much now.

Maybe he’s fallen out of love.

You knew the last one was a significant possibility. Lewis was a private person, but he showed his heart on his shoulder, especially at the beginning. Large declarations of love, obnoxious presents, at first, he wanted you to know that he was in love with you, constantly.

There isn’t a time in the last four months that you can remember where Lewis demonstrated his love for you, quick ‘love you’s’ before the door slammed behind him, a random heart in the middle of the night when he’s halfway across the world; even those had slowly stopped.

Nowadays he would hum silently when you told him you loved him, he would send a heart back if you sent one to him. He didn’t initiate anything, it just simply felt like he was tolerating it when you expressed your love for him.

It wasn’t hard to remember the times when Lewis would tell you how much he loved you, how he would show it.

He would curl up behind you in bed, the unmade sheets wrapped lazily around the two of you as he groaned into your neck, his hands resting around your middle as he eagerly cuddled up to you.

You could always feel him mumbling words into your neck, but he would never tell you what he was saying. Lewis would just smile and press a tiny kiss to your lips, the kiss heating up as time went on, your bodies moving in sync as he demonstrated his love for you in every way he knew how.

You weren’t a self-conscious person, you knew you had plenty to offer when it came to your relationship, and when it came to life in itself. You knew your love should be celebrated, celebrated in the way that Lewis used to celebrate it, the way he used to giggle as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, gently swaying to the music coming from his phone as you cooked together.

You tried to push the negative thoughts away, the thoughts of leaving, of packing up your bags and leaving in the middle of the weekend while he was away. You considered it, time and time again. The suitcases staring at you from the closet, telling you to open them, pack them, and leave.

Every weekend the temptation grew stronger and stronger. The urge to walk away, to preserve your dignity, sat heavy on your shoulders.

Every time when you thought you had decided, thought you had made the decision to pull the dagger out and walk away; an invisible force pulled you back. Told you that the season was slowly coming to its end, that the old Lewis would come back to you when the season was up, he was just stressed out and things were hard.

He never talked about his problems with you. He would debrief with you, sure. He would tell you about the problems in the race, but he would never tell you about his internal problems.

It’s how you constantly justified his behaviour, and his actions... or lack thereof.

Your mind always went back to those thoughts when you considered leaving. It always made you think about the fact that he was probably struggling, that he just wasn’t able to talk to you about it and that you leaving would probably make things worse.

It was the invisible but obvious force, that, you knew.

Lewis didn’t know about these thoughts. At least he never showed that he knew. The bags were always tucked away in the back of the closet when he returned home, like they were never sitting in front of the open door. Everything was back in their rightful place, as if the thought of leaving had never crossed your mind.

One of your favourite moments with him happened just before the beginning of the season. You were cuddled up on the couch, the remnants of a ‘Game of Thrones’ episode playing on the television, Lewis’ hand gently creating shapes on the visible skin of your back.

“Do you ever feel like you’re too old, or like... too wise for me? Like someone closer to your age would be better?”

You felt him huff against your neck, a small laugh falling from his lips before he pressed a kiss to the spot his lips were before shaking his head.

“Are you calling me old, my love?”

Immediately shaking your head with a tiny laugh, you slapped his chest with a gleam in your eyes. “You know what I meant, Lew...”

Rolling you over, he leaned over you as he pushed a lock of his own unruly hair behind his ear. “I rarely think about the fact you’re younger than me. It doesn’t affect the way in which I love you, half the time I forget that you’re younger than me. I definitely don’t think I’m wiser, that’s for sure. It’s pretty obvious who has all the wisdom between the two of us.”

The night ended with you below him, the sheets rustling, as if all the love he had for you could be encaptured in the way his eyes connected with yours. You had never felt that kind of raw love before, had never felt like everything you had done had led to that exact moment.

Trying to convince yourself that everything happening now was all in your mind was easy. The comments that your friends made, that maybe he didn’t love you anymore; was easy enough to ignore when you considered the fact that he did still reply to your messages, that he still came home every Sunday, that he still sometimes pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaving in the morning.

But then sometimes you let your mind reel, and reel, and reel. Lewis was there, but was he really there?

The conversation almost happened, after Spa. Lewis was exhausted coming into your shared apartment, his bags dropping down at the front door. You were wrapped up in one of his Mercedes sweaters, his racing number engraved on the sleeves; even if he was there physically and not mentally, you had still made him your everything, you had made him your mural, had dedicated the sky to him.

The pictures on the walls still showed a love between the two of you that wasn’t obvious anymore. The picture of you wrapped around him after the end of the 2020 season. The pictures of the both of you cuddled around each other at his family Christmas, the collage of his nephews wrapped in your arms. There were hundreds of photos that showed how life used to be.

Your mind came back to the present when Lewis crossed the path in front of you.

Like always, he went to press a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, the exhaustion prevalent on his face. As he was walking towards his office, you felt the words bubble out of your mouth before you could control them.

“Did you want to watch this with me? I feel like we haven’t really spent much time together lately.”

The words stopped him in his tracks, you could practically see the wheels turning in his head as his body turned in your direction. It felt like his face was mocking you with its fake sympathy as he gently shook his head, his curls moving with the direction.

“I’m just too tired. I have to go watch highlights in my office. Maybe later.”

It was always ‘maybe later’, or ‘maybe tomorrow’, or ‘I’m sorry we can’t celebrate our anniversary this year, I just don’t have time this weekend, maybe next weekend’.

It felt like you were begging him for a spot in his life, like you were an inconvenience that he didn’t want to put the effort into anymore. By now, you weren’t even begging for a line in the story, but a line in the footnotes of his life. A minuscule part, something that he couldn’t even try to give you.

Lewis made it clear he felt bad after he bailed on your anniversary. He spent hundreds of dollars on you, basically begging you for forgiveness and emphasizing things would be different soon, he promised.

He was right, things were different. Not in a good way. Maybe that was the point when things really started going downhill. It was still hard to pinpoint it.

Making yourself scarce when Lewis was home was easy. Your friends were always looking for you to go for lunch, or dinner, or out for drinks. Spending your time at work was always an easy escape, allowing the never-ending flow of work to occupy your thoughts as you went above and beyond.

If Lewis noticed that you were avoiding him, avoiding your home; he didn’t say anything. He never said anything.

Spending the weekends at home was therapeutic, your arms wrapped in another one of Lewis’ oversized sweaters. The smell of his cologne wafting up your noise as you pressed the sleeve to your face, the unshed tears refusing to leave your eyes. You wouldn’t cry, not again.

You knew you would cry, again. You always let the tears fall when you scrolled back up in your conversation with Lewis to when things first started, when he was animated, when he overshared, when he sent you photos of George, of Mick, when he forwarded you along videos of Roscoe when Roscoe was away with him.

Back when your love was celebrated, when it didn’t feel like Lewis was just tolerating it, tolerating you, tolerating your love.

Jealousy reared its ugly head every weekend as well. Whenever you saw an Instagram story, or a twitter post, whenever you saw that Lewis was out with his friends, or his team, or his crew. You knew it wasn’t fair to be jealous, that it wasn’t fair to compare yourself to the people that Lewis spent 5/7 days a week with, that it was hard for him to say ‘no’ to them.

It didn’t change how much it hurt, how much it made your heart ache to know that you truly were something that could be put on the backburner. He was always out building other worlds, but where were you?

Where were you every time he was out with his friends after a race? Where were you every time he was celebrating a win, or celebrating a pole in qualifying? Where were you every time he went live on Instagram?

Where was his love for you when you sat looking at the suitcases in the closet, again?

Gone.

It was time to accept the truth, that his love for you was gone. That he didn’t celebrate his love for you like he once did, that he didn’t celebrate you, like he once did.

He tolerated it, and he tolerated you. Tolerating something and celebrating it were too obviously different things. It had never been more evident.

The bags didn’t stare at you anymore as they laid open on the bedroom floor, your clothes finding themselves folded and inside each of them, your portion of the closet emptying out as the bags grew heavier and heavier. The bags under your eyes growing darker alongside them.

You couldn’t leave without saying anything to him, couldn’t allow him to come home to an empty home. It was obvious he didn’t deserve an explanation, and you didn’t plan on giving him one. But he deserved a goodbye.

It was clear the presence of the suitcases registered in Lewis’ mind the moment his eyes found them as the front door closed. He immediately looked at you, the most emotion you’d seen in months shining in his eyes.

“What’s going on?”

The shake in his hands was visible as he asked the question, his own bags falling gently beside your own as he stared at you.

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t beg for a place in your life anymore, Lew. I’m sorry.”

The resignation was evident in his eyes, but there was no fight in them as he sat on the couch opposite you. It almost hurt to know that he wasn’t going to argue, wasn’t going to ask you to stay, to not break free and leave the both of you in ruins. It almost hurt, but you knew it would be the case.

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t try to stop you as you went towards your bags, he didn’t look up from his ink-stained hands as the click of the lock sounded. He didn’t try to say anything more as the suitcases rolled out the door.

You didn’t see the tears gather in his eyes and then fall down his cheeks as the door closed behind you, the longing on his face as he debated with himself internally if he should run after you. Beg you to stay. It was so plain to see now, you were younger, and wiser, and he didn’t deserve you anymore.

Lewis knew the truth. You deserved someone who would celebrate you, celebrate your love. Not someone who could only tolerate it when their own life was falling apart. He didn’t deserve you, not anymore.

i really hope you guys liked this!! im really not too sure if i'll make a part 2, but if there's a lot of demand for one i will. thank you for all the love. also i read this like 4 times so if there's any mistakes im sorry lol

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(if you're interested in being added to my taglist for all my works please reach out! i didnt tag anyone who only requested to be tagged for specific parts of my other work!

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neoyvks · 8 months

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neoyvks · 8 months

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Lewis x Dior | 19.01.24

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neoyvks · 8 months

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neoyvks · 8 months

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Press Conference, Monaco 2023

"What do you look for in a teammate?"

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neoyvks · 2 years

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The Garden of Earthly Delights, Hieronymus Bosch, 1490 - 1500

Feel My Rhythm MV, Red Velvet, 2022

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neoyvks · 3 years

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Take a hint

Pairing: Juyeon x reader Word count: 8k Genre: best friends to lovers, college au, fluff Warnings: alcohol, swearing A/N: as per this request!

It's an experiment, you tell yourself. Everything you've been doing lately is simply an experiment to see whether or not your best friend might return your feelings. Little did you know, Juyeon has been dropping his own hints all along.

It was annoying.

Having to be stopped in the hallway multiple times just for girls to say hi to Juyeon, for people to turn to their friends in whispers as they stare a little too much at him. You don't even want to know what they think of you, but perhaps they'd never see you when you'd always been in his shadow since college started.

What's more annoying is the way you could see exactly why everyone was so attracted to him. Sure, he may have gone through another growth spurt during the summer after high school and was now one of the hottest guys on campus. Objectively, of course. But then there's his sweet personality, the way he genuinely cares for the people around him and really makes an effort to get to know them.

And the most annoying thing? You knew exactly why people liked him because you were the first one to do so.

A gentle hand on your waist is what drags you out of your thoughts. Juyeon's hand, warm and secure as he pulls you just a little closer to him until you're pressed against his side.

"I'm already in a relationship," he says, turning to look at you with the softest gaze you'd seen in a while. And despite knowing that he's merely acting, the smile he gives you still manages to cause your pulse to quicken and your cheeks to heat up.

"Oh," the girl's face instantly turns from hopeful to embarrassed, "sorry." One last apologetic glance at you before she's ducking her head as she leaves.

You try not to think about Juyeon leaving his arm wrapped around your waist the entire walk back to your dorm. It's just for show, you tell yourself, because maybe it's bothersome to have the entire college population try to date him.

Then there's his head on your shoulder once you reach your small dorm room. The way he heaves a sigh, plopping down on the floor at the foot of your bed before resting his entire body weight on your side. Eyes closed; long limbs fully stretched out. And as you watch the tension slowly dissipate from your best friend's body, you get the sense that he feels like this is the only place in the world where he can truly be himself.

"Stay like this for a while?" he mumbles, looping an arm around yours like he doesn't want you to leave.

You used to joke that he's done this so often that there is now a Juyeon shaped dent in your shoulder, a resting place made just for his head. Yet now when you smell the faint coconut of his shampoo and feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest with every breath, you no longer feel this is something to joke about. He may be relaxed, but your heart is pounding like you'd just run a marathon—it jumps at the brush of his fingers against your arm, and it stutters when he moves his head to your lap instead.

It makes you wonder what he thinks about all this. How he feels about being so close to you, and whether you'd even be attractive in his eyes like he is in yours. It makes you question why the warmth of his body feels so different now compared to the millions of times you'd felt it over the course of your friendship.

"But you're heavy," you mutter, gently shifting to dig yourself out from under his weight. He gives you a frown, filled with every bit of fake betrayal that his drowsy eyes could muster. You shoot him a teasing smile.

"Ah, so that's where my hoodie went." The corners of his lips curl up into an amused grin as he watches you make your way to your closet. "Almost thought the dryer ate it up."

"Do you want it back?"

He shrugs. "Nah, you can keep it. I like the way it looks on you."

You hate the way he says it so casually, and you hate the way your heart won't take it casually at all. "Oh. Okay," you say with your own nonchalance.

Maybe it's time to put Eric's love advice to the test. Step one: set up the bait.

"Right, so I'm looking for an outfit for the party that Sangyeon invited me to." You continue to flip through your closet, only turning briefly to observe his reaction. The party itself wasn't going to be for another few weeks but this feels like the right time to start your little experiment. "Something pretty."

"If you wanted to go to the party, you could've just told me," Juyeon frowns. "I would make a much better date."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, I would get you there and back safely. And make sure you don't reach for that fourth shot that you always regret."

"Hey—that was one time! And I know parties aren't your thing." One last step to complete this experiment. You slip a hint of sugar into your voice, hoping it's convincing enough. "Besides, this is Sangyeon we're talking about. How could I possibly turn this down? He's so hot, okay?"

"Yeah, and jail's looking pretty hot too." Juyeon rolls his eyes, not bothering to hide his disdain at all. "Isn't he in senior year?"

"Age is just a number and jail is just a place," you sigh dramatically, giving up on your wardrobe and going back to join him on your floor. "We're not even minors anymore and besides, he's only a couple of years older than us. Just wait until the day I find a sugar daddy and get rich, then you'd forget you ever said anything." When he gives you a wary side-eye, you continue. "Heck, if you get over this age gap thing, then you could even become a sugar baby with me."

Juyeon chokes on his spit. You laugh at him.

It was time to implement part two of Eric's advice.

"You know, maybe you should go out with that girl who was interested in you," comes out casually, naturally. Nothing to suggest that the very idea is everything you'd been dreading.

"Who?"

"Yeseul—I think that was her name?"

"Why?" Juyeon shrugs, searching your face. "I'm not interested."

You decide to push a little more. "Why not? She seems like she could be your type. Perfectly gorgeous and sweet."

"Oh, I have a type now?"

Now that you think about it, he really hasn't ever told you about having a crush on someone in the several years that you've known him. In your head, you may have pictured him with yourself. "Well, it's just the type of person I've always pictured you with. Someone pretty and sweet. Someone who gets your lame jokes and tolerates your dry texts. And didn't you guys get along pretty well during that group project we did together?"

But you could see the wall sliding into place, making his expression unreadable. "Why do you want me to date someone so much?"

"Time is ticking, Juyeon. In another five years no one's going to want you." You briefly pause, hesitating over whether to add the next part. "And then you'll have to be stuck with me for the rest of your life."

"Is that so bad?"

"Well," no, of course not, you want to say. But what did he mean by that? His words only make you want to give in and suggest a stupid pact about marrying each other if you were both single after college. At least that's how it would've turned out in the fanfiction you read. But you don't let it slip out of your mouth. "Nah," you mask with nonchalance, "but I think she really likes you. Maybe you should give it a shot and live your life while you can, you know?"

Juyeon remains silent for a while and avoids your gaze, as if he's actually considering it. But there's no way, right? There's no way he would agree to go out with someone he's not interested in—

"Okay," he nods, but his lips are pressed in a way like he's hiding a frown. "I'll go out with Yeseul."

"What, really?"

"Well, if my best friend thinks it's a good idea, then maybe it'll be good for me."

Best friend. The words feel like a knife to your chest like he had purposely placed them there to remind you of your relationship. But does he truly think that you meant what you said? You had simply wanted to push him to see if there's a reason he'd never been interested in anyone. To see if there would be even the tiniest sliver of a possibility that the hand around your waist and the tender smile on his lips may be something more than simply acting.

"Yeah," you attempt at a smile that probably looks just as pained as you feel, "I guess."

He goes to help you pick out an outfit for the party, and the conversation is left at that. It's not an ugly outfit either like you'd hoped; he went straight for the one you'd worn to semi-formal with him a few years back, as if such a pretty outfit would help your prospects with Sangyeon. Which is what you're supposed to want, after all.

When Juyeon leaves to go back to his dorm, you can't help but glance at his hoodie still hanging in your closet, trying to picture what it would look like on Yeseul.

It isn't until Juyeon's texts start becoming more and more delayed that you realize he may be avoiding you. He's not great at texting in the first place, often responding with one-word responses or emoji reactions and usually only addressing the first text bubble in your series of messages rather than all of it. How people could still like him despite all that, you may never know.

So it takes about a week for you to start suspecting something when his texts become even sparser, and he no longer asks to have lunch on campus with you. Another week for you to confirm your suspicions when he claims to be busy with assignments and midterms but you're quite sure he's not studying at all—so what if you heard it from Eric? Getting this information from Juyeon's roommate may have felt like cheating but you wanted to know anything you could about why your best friend was going out of his way to avoid you.

A third week for you to start questioning everything. Was Juyeon mad at you? Had you done something to make him upset at you? You couldn't recall the last time you even had a fight with him in the past few years of your friendship, and the only thing that comes to mind is the experiment you were running. That maybe he's upset at you for making a suggestion that sounded like you wanted your friendship to drift apart.

"Why the hell are you following Eric's advice?" Sunwoo grumbles as he aggressively stirs his coffee. "He sucks at this whole love thing."

You raise an eyebrow at him, the past memories of Sunwoo's unrequited love coming back to your mind. "Is that speaking from personal experience?"

"Shut up, we're not talking about that," he kicks you lightly under the table. "You were supposed to stop Juyeon when he agreed to go out with her. You know, like a 'haha that was a joke, actually I'm in love with you.'"

You nearly spit out your drink. "Hey, you can't just say it like that!"

"Well, were you hoping that he would be like 'no, I'm not going to date her because I've been in love with you forever,' and—"

"Your impressions sound so dumb." A kick right back at him. You try to hide the way your cheeks burn at the thought that he was completely right. What he said was exactly the outcome you'd wanted.

Meeting up with Sunwoo had seemed like a good idea at first, since he was the only other person who knew about your situation with Juyeon. You hadn't willingly told him about it though; it had been taken from you as potential blackmail material only after you found out about his crush on Eric. But now, he's making you second guess everything that you'd done as part of your little experiment.

"Okay, fine. Maybe that's what I was hoping for," you admit with a roll of your eyes. "But since it didn't happen, isn't it obvious he doesn't feel the same way?"

"Dude, do you really think he'd tell you he likes you if you seem to be pushing him away?" Sunwoo's intense stare bores into your soul, making you feel even smaller than his words managed to do. "Y/N, he asked you if it's so bad to be stuck with you for the rest of his life. Isn't that obvious enough?"

You let out a sigh, setting down the cold drink that was starting to make your hand numb.

"But it's not all your fault. Eric is the stupid one for telling you to set up two of these baits—you should've either went with the Sangyeon route or the Yeseul route, not both. Now it just seems like you don't have an ounce of interest in him."

"What's Eric's fault?" a familiar voice floats over from off to the side. "Who's interested in who now?"

Hoodie with the hood over his head, gym bag slung over one shoulder. Eric looks like he's stopping by just after a session at the gym when he walks over with a wave.

"Everything is Eric's fault," Sunwoo scoffs, eyeing him up and down. "And nobody is interested in him."

Eric bursts out laughing, grasping your table to hold himself up. "You're funny, you know?" he nods in Sunwoo's direction before turning to you. "But Y/N, it's a good thing you're here. I wanted to talk to you about... you know who."

"Okay," you nod at him slowly. "You can just say it here. Sunwoo already knows about everything that's happened."

"Oh." Eric glances at Sunwoo, really glances at him as if noticing him for the first time. "Sure, if you're fine with that." Then he pulls a chair from a nearby table and joins the two of you at the table.

But once he sits down, that's when his demeanour changes. The eagerness from a moment ago is gone, and he's left tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie. Opening his mouth and then closing it again. It makes you feel nervous to see Eric in a state other than his usual, happy self, and a weight settles in your heart in anticipation of bad news.

"Hey," Sunwoo taps him on the shoulder, "your drink is ready. I'll grab it for you?"

That breaks Eric out of his daze. "Oh, what—yeah, sure, thanks."

"Right so, Juyeon," you prompt, eyes flickering over to where Sunwoo gives you a content grin as he holds up his crush's drink. "Did he tell you something?"

"You told him about Sangyeon, right? And Yeseul?" He waits for an answer, and when you nod, his eyes dim and a small frown forms on his mouth. "I guess that was a bad idea."

Sunwoo comes back with the drink and sets it down in front of Eric. "I told you," he says pointedly to you as Eric thanks him quietly.

"Can you cut to the chase?"

"Right. So." Eric takes a deep breath. "Juyeon's on a date with Yeseul right now."

"What?"

"The cafe in the engineering building," he says, and you barely hear the next part when you're already running out the door. "Don't tell him I told you though!"

You think it's a joke. That Juyeon has to be joking about going out with a girl that he barely knows, one that he didn't even know the name of until you had reminded him of it. Not only would it be out of character for him, but to date someone simply because you had suggested it is already strange on its own.

So you don't believe that he would actually do it until you're in the engineering building, standing right outside the small cafe. Personally witnessing the two of them on a date.

And as much as you'd wished for awkwardness and dead silences and a frown on his face, you arrive to laughter floating in the air. Shy smiles. Juyeon leaning in to listen to her as if she were the most interesting person in the world.

"Hey Yeseul! Long time no see," you plaster on the brightest smile you could muster. "Sorry I'm late. Had to um, stop by at the TA's office hours for another class. Like why are their office hours so limited anyway, right?"

"Oh. Hey, Y/N..." Yeseul looks obviously confused when you grab a chair to take a seat at their small table.

"Anyway, Juyeon called me over for this group meeting." A secret glance at him tells you that he isn't pleased at all. Mouth set into a hard line, eyes narrowed and fixated on you. Still, you shamelessly pretend like everything is just fine. "I'm actually so glad to be working with you again for the next project. We did amazing on the first one and I'm sure the next will be just as great."

"Um, yeah. Of course." The confusion on her face morphs into disappointment instead as you watch the gears turn in her head. Yeseul must be thinking it's all a misunderstanding by now—that she entirely misinterpreted Juyeon's words and thought it was a date when it was actually a meeting for school. "Hey, actually I'm not feeling so well right now. Must've been something I ate. Do you think the two of you can work on it first? I can send you my part later."

"Sure," the smile comes to you so easily now, "that's no problem. I hope you feel better soon."

"I'll walk you home," Juyeon offers, starting to stand up before Yeseul shakes her head.

And when she leaves, you're cheering and shouting and celebrating in your head. Some part of you feels bad for her because you know exactly how unrequited love feels, how the fluttering and sinking of your heart both rest within the grasp of someone who never asked for the reins. But at the same time, you don't care. You can't care. You can't be feeling sorry for her when you want her to hurt, and him along with her, until they're familiar with the pain that has made its home in your heart.

Any thought of celebration dies down quickly though, when you turn back to Juyeon and the clenching of his jaw, the ice in his eyes.

When he doesn't make a move to say anything, you blurt out, "Juyeon, what are you doing?"

"I'm going on the date with her just like you told me to," he says, gaze unreadable. "What are you doing?"

"You've been ditching me and avoiding me just so that you could go on dates with her? What, is she more important that your best friend?"

He lets out a loud exhale. "You're the one who wanted me to date her, so here I am. But now it seems like you don't want me to? Why are you trying to ruin this for me?"

"I—I didn't think you actually would. Date her."

"Y/N, I really don't understand." Juyeon runs his hands through his hair, exasperated. "What exactly do you want?"

"Well, we've barely seen each other over the past few weeks. So I just—I don't think you should spend all your time with her." It sounds stupid even to your own ears but it's the only thing you could say in this moment.

"What, so now you can dictate who I hang out with? While you're freely throwing yourself at this Sangyeon guy?" Juyeon's eyes harden. "You're my friend, Y/N, not my significant other. I don't think you have the right to interfere with who I date or spend time with."

You don't even make a move to respond to that. It's like he knows exactly where to hit you for it to hurt.

But he doesn't say anything else, simply grabbing his bag and getting up from his seat. Leaving you at the table alone with your feelings and the consequences of your actions.

If you'd thought that his avoidance would stop there, you were wrong—it only gets worse. Juyeon avoids your calls, ignores your texts, and sits on the other side of the room with his other friends during your shared class. At least he doesn't sit with Yeseul, but that barely feels like a win.

The only thing keeping you going was Eric's constant updates. He tells you how Juyeon often asks him how you're doing, which you find entirely strange since he wouldn't just ask you himself. Maybe Eric was the one making this up to try to help mediate this fight.

When your midterms and assignments are over, that's when you finally decide to corner him in his apartment.

"Oh. Hey, Eric," you greet when Eric opens the door before you could even raise a hand to knock.

"Hey, Y/N..." He looks a little uncertain for a second and it makes you wonder if Juyeon has told him anything about why he's avoiding you. "Um, yeah I was about to head out, but you can go and find him."

"Okay, yeah. See you around."

Eric's hesitation makes the worst-case scenario pop up in your mind again. You knew that college changes people, that oftentimes the friendships from high school don't last in college, but it just hadn't occurred to you until now that maybe your friendship with Juyeon would be one that doesn't last.

"Wait, did you leave already?" your best friend's familiar voice floats over. "I had one last question—oh, be careful."

And then you were getting an eyeful of Juyeon's tee. His arms keeping you up from falling the rest of the way to the floor after you'd ungracefully tripped on the pile of shoes clustered by the door.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly. Looking up, you see that the fondness is back in his eyes, and it makes you wonder if his avoidance was just something in your head. That with the warmth in his touch as he helps you up, there's no way he hates you. "Sorry, I know I should really clean this up sometime. Even though most of them are Eric's."

Juyeon's hands linger on your shoulders for a bit, filled with hesitance as you find your footing away from the hazardous pile of shoes. Then he finally lets go and the warmth disappears from his eyes. The walls come back up, turning his face into the same stoic expression you'd seen at the cafe that day.

"Um, hi. I came to see how you're doing." You lift up the bag you're holding, giving it a little shake. "I brought some food and figured we could have dinner together."

"Oh, sure." He waves you over to the kitchen where the two of you end up settling at the table. "But um... we should talk."

"Listen, Juyeon. I wanted to apologize for what I did that day. Ruining your date with Yeseul..." You meet his eyes just briefly before dropping your gaze again. "You were right. I shouldn't have been trying to tell you who you should or shouldn't spend time with."

He nods, shrugs a shoulder. "I can't even be mad about that because it was a bad decision on my part. But I'm sorry for the things I said." Then a silence falls over the two of you as you wait for him to continue, but he seems to have no notion of diving into the topic nor touching the takeout you left on the table.

The silence pushes you to want to fill it. You want to ask him why he thinks it was a bad decision, why he agreed to it in the first place. Why your opinion matters so much to him. And whether or not all of this means something more than they appear on the surface.

Maybe it was time to finally confront your feelings and admit them.

"Juyeon, I have something tell you."

He glances at you up and down, the corners of his mouth downturned. "Me too."

"Okay, you can go first."

Juyeon nods but seems reluctant to speak, making you question where this conversation was really going. You'd thought his avoidance stemmed from having you ruin his date with Yeseul, but judging by his reaction, there seems to be something more than that. And it makes you on edge to think that this is the first proper conversation he's had with you in weeks. As if all the time he's spent avoiding you has watered down to this moment.

"Do you ever think about how we can never really unknowanything?" he finally says, eyes fixated on your face.

"What do you mean?"

"Like, say we go through breakups or lose a friend. Sure, you could get someone out of your life and try to forget their existence, but can you ever really unknow them?" Juyeon says quietly. "We can't go back and get a refund for the time we spent on them, nor can we erase their impact on our lives."

"I guess?" Trying to search his face doesn't yield any hints of what he's trying to say, but the way his eyes fleet to avoid yours makes your head spin.

"We end up leaving a piece of us in everyone we meet, and simultaneously take a piece of them with us. People, knowledge, the things we come to experience in our lives. They aren't things we can simply erase. We can never unknow any of it."

"Why are you telling me this, Juyeon?" You're suddenly all too aware of his avoidance paired with the nature of his words. Was this what he wants to tell you? That he wants to end your friendship and try to unknow you? Had your little experiments really gotten in the way of this friendship? You try to not let your voice tremble as you ask him, "Are you saying you want to—to unknow me?"

His eyes widen. Was it realization? Shock? He must've not expected you to understand his intentions so quickly. "No, Y/N. That's not—"

"Well. It's okay," you shrug, trying to plaster nonchalance on your body like a bandage. "I can take a hint, you know. You've been avoiding me for weeks and now you're talking about unknowing me. And I guess you feel like you've outgrown this friendship, but—" you voice slightly cracks. Still, you try to push on. "Did you really have to put it that way? Even if you don't want to be friends with me anymore, I would never wish to unknow you."

He seems to freeze, choosing to leave your words hanging in the air. And when you take that as your cue to leave, he doesn't chase after you. The silence that's left in your wake answers your question. It tells you that this conversation, this moment, and the emptiness in your heart as if a part had just been ripped out—these are the things that you will never unknow.

"I have a plan," is the first thing you say when you finally sit down after setting all three of the drinks on the table.

"To make up with Juyeon?" Eric asks, getting up from where he's draped over Sunwoo's seat, tapping something on their phones together.

Meanwhile, Sunwoo eyes you warily. "Why does this sound like a bad idea already?"

"No, not to make up with he-who-must-not-be-named," you shake your head. "I'm going to go to the party with Sangyeon, have a few drinks, and then fall in love with him when we make out." You give an assuring nod, trying to wipe off the skeptical looks from your friends' faces. Or maybe to convince yourself. "Yup. That's the plan."

Sunwoo sighs, leaning back in his seat with a defeated look on his face. "See, I told you it would be a bad idea. Y/N, are you just trying to ignore the problem at hand?"

"Well, if I ignore my problems then maybe they'll go away."

"Juyeon already went away according to you," Sunwoo blurts. It earns him a smack on the arm and a pointed look from Eric.

You're not sure when the two of them became close enough to have that happen, but it's something to notice. In fact, it seems like their interactions today are very different from the last time you'd seen the two of them together. It makes you wonder if Eric called this meeting for reasons other than discussing your failed love life—and now friendship—with Juyeon.

"We're not bringing up that name here." You shoot him a glare. "But go ahead. Say what you wanted to say."

Eric shakes his head at you. "I don't get why you would think he doesn't want to be friends anymore. Literally, all you had to do was listen to his explanation."

"Why, did he tell you what he was going to say?"

"He doesn't need to tell me for me to know that it wasn't about ending your friendship."

"You know," you give him a side-eye, "I don't know whether to believe the things you say or not."

"Believe me when I say that fried chicken was good. You picked a good flavour," Eric gives you a thumbs up. "I'm glad you left it behind. Thanks for the dinner, Y/N."

"You ate that? It was for him," you mutter, avoiding his gaze.

And there was the sinking of your heart once again at the thought that Juyeon hadn't eaten it after you'd left that day. If that wasn't a sign of him trying to move on from your friendship, then what was? He was clearly trying to erase every trace of you just like he'd talked about, and as much as Eric's trying to make you feel better, you simply don't think it's possible.

Eric sighs wistfully. "Everything's always about him. When will you finally appreciate me?"

"I'll buy you chicken," Sunwoo says quietly. When Eric looks at him in surprise, he quickly continues. "And Y/N, why did you let Juyeon talk first? You should've straight up told him when you got the chance to."

"Hey—I thought you were on my side here!" You frown at Sunwoo but when he gives you an innocent shrug, an idea comes to mind. If your own romance had failed, you would make sure that this one wouldn't. "You're busy calling me dumb, and yet you guys can't even notice what's been right in front of you this entire time."

That causes Sunwoo's eyes to widen. He gives you the slightest shake of his head in panic but it's too late to retract your statement or change the subject because Eric is already turning to you. Brows furrowed and mouth pulled into a questioning frown.

"And?" Eric asks. "What would that be?"

"Your feelings for each other." You tilt your head over to Sunwoo, where the poor boy is trying to hide himself using the hood of his oversized hoodie.

"Y/N, you're really going there? Are we really doing this? comes out muffled beneath the hood. "Okay, fine." Straightening up in his seat, Sunwoo takes the hood off and turns to Eric. "First, I like you. I have for some time now, but it didn't seem like you were ever going to figure it out. Second, do you want to go out sometime?"

The words hang in the still air for a while, making your own heart quicken in nervousness. But soon, Eric lets out a loud exhale as if he'd been holding his breath. "Really? That's—no, I literally thought you were never going to notice my crush on you. Well, I was kind of trying to ignore you on purpose so that it's not so obvious, but like—really? You want to go on a date?"

A big smile is on his face when Sunwoo nods shyly, and it has Eric breaking into one that mirrors his. You feel like you've won the lottery, to finally see a good result from the two friends you'd shipped since the day you met them in college. At least there was still hope for love in the world, even if it didn't happen to you.

You clear your throat. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it? Anyway, I think my job here is done. You guys have fun on your date, okay?"

"Wait, Y/N. What are you going to do about Juyeon?" There's worry in Sunwoo's eyes and a layer of guilt with the way he bites his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling.

You wave dismissingly. "Don't worry about it; I'll figure it out after the party."

Maybe sometimes all it takes is to blurt out exactly what you want to say.

It was annoying.

Going to the party was supposed to be your chance to get rid of all your thoughts of him. You were supposed to destress and have fun while having your heart flutter at everything Sangyeon says. But reality kicks in when you spot Juyeon the moment he walks into this damned party with Eric. And of course Eric, being as unreliable as his shitty love advice, had not given you a heads up about it.

Because why was Juyeon coming here now? In all your years of knowing him, he hadn't ever gone to a party willingly, and if he did it would've been because you were going. Seeing everyone greet him as he walks through the house makes it seem like he's become a completely different person, tossing away his own identity along with your friendship.

"You okay?" Sangyeon glances at you with worry in his eyes when he watches you down another shot. "You should slow down."

You shrug and give him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine." Not exactly a lie because you really weren't feeling anything yet. If you could still feel Juyeon staring at you from across the room, or if you could still see him and think about him at all, then you hadn't had enough to drink yet.

Sangyeon taps your shoulder lightly. "Then do you want to sit for a bit?"

At your nod, he returns your smile and then takes your hand, gently leading you out of the crowd.

In another universe, you should've been over the moon to have this opportunity. Being so close to the guy that you had been eyeing since the start of the semester? Having him genuinely care for you? Objectively, you knew some part of you should've been screaming about this day forever.

But that wasn't the case. Maybe you'd thought that being with someone you deemed perfect would make you happy, that simply talking to him would be enough to make your problems fade along with the rest of the world around the two of you—or so you read in fanfiction anyway. But now you've come to realize that Sangyeon's arm around you doesn't make your heart skip a beat like you thought it would, and his low voice in your ear doesn't make your knees go weak. You know he's hot, and definitely still think so, but something about being with him here just doesn't feel quite right.

Especially when your thoughts were still on the idiot watching you from across the room.

"Hey, Yeseul!" You greet her as she passes by in the hallway alone. Why was she here alone? Somehow that sparks another one of your great ideas. "You know Sangyeon, right? Senior in our program, orientation leader and all that." Then you turn to Sangyeon. "This is Yeseul, a very smart classmate of mine. And um, I'm just going to go to the bathroom, but maybe you guys can hang out for a bit. I think you'd get along."

The two of them smile awkwardly at each other, clearly startled by your sudden introduction while your inebriated brain was busy being proud of your matchmaking attempt. And when they start chatting, you make your escape with one last vodka shot in hand.

Your plan was to pretend to look for the bathroom, though you find there's really no need to pretend when the house was already looking like a maze. The alcohol in your system was gradually blurring your judgment more and more, and it makes you start to regret your decision of leaving Sangyeon's side. Maybe then, Juyeon wouldn't be following you or cornering you in the small bedroom you find yourself in after opening too many random doors.

But maybe this was exactly what you had wanted. Maybe you wanted him to come running like he always does, trying to stop you from potentially hurting yourself. Maybe you wanted him to take care of you, to only ever look at you.

Maybe you wanted him.

When you finally glance at him, you can see that he looks good: hair slightly styled to reveal his forehead, sleeves rolled up to reveal his arms. Was this Eric's influence? Or had he always been someone else when not with you? Suddenly, you're not sure how well you really know him.

"What?" you sigh, feeling the energy from earlier suddenly drain from you. "Juyeon, why are you here?"

"To make sure you're safe."

You take a step back as he takes a step forward. "Why do you care? I thought you didn't want to be friends anymore."

But Juyeon doesn't respond. He opts to press his lips together, gaze trained on something behind you.

"And... I think you're right. That we shouldn't be friends anymore."

"What? Y/N, no." He crosses the room in a few strides until he's right in front of you. Much too close. "That's never what I wanted—"

"Please, just stop." You take another step back, holding out your hand to stop him from coming any closer. "Juyeon, I wish you wouldn't keep doing those things—following me around, caring so much about everything I do, remembering everything I say."

Looking at him tells you his eyes are unreadable, and suddenly you really start to think this might be it. This would really be the end of your friendship.

"I know we're best friends and all but..." You take a deep breath. "Please stop making me think that you might actually be in love with me."

"But is that so bad?"

"Yeah, it is," you swallow the lump in your throat. "Do you enjoy giving me false hope or something? Like, it makes me so sad whenever you go as far as pretending we're in a relationship—"

"Y/N. I meant being in love with you," he says quietly. The walls have come down and his eyes have softened, though what you find isn't what you would expect. As he takes another step forward, you notice that he looks hurt. Pained. "Is that so bad?"

"What?"

Before you could wait for his response, the world appears to tilt and shift beneath your feet. A step back to try to regain your balance seems like a good idea until it sends you falling, reeling to grasp onto anything to steady yourself.

"You okay?" Juyeon steadies you as the two of you land on the unexpected softness of a mattress, an arm around your waist and the other grabbing the shot glass from your hand. He sets it on the nightstand, and you only spare half a mind to marvel at how it hasn't spilled yet.

The rest of you is too busy noticing him. Juyeon's dark eyes are on you with the fondness that you'd seen only briefly between moments, now shining bright. He looks at you like he cares; holds you like he deliberately wants to. Acts like you're the only one existing in his world.

And this time, maybe you know what it means.

"You're still doing it," you whisper. "Looking at me like you're in love with me."

"Because I am, Y/N." Somehow his fingers make their way to your face, gently caressing your cheek. "I didn't want to tell you like this, but it's okay. I'll tell you."

You take him in, memorizing every detail. His long eyelashes, the way they flutter when he blinks at you. The little moles dusted over his skin, scattered like the stars in the sky. And his lips—they're soft and warm and seem to mold to your thumb when you glide it across.

"I'll tell you as many times as it takes for you to know that I'm in love with you, Y/N. I have been for a while."

"Wait—" You put your hand against his mouth, stopping him from saying anything else. "Maybe you shouldn't tell me right now. What if I forget all of this tomorrow? I—I don't want to forget this."

"It's okay if you don't remember tonight," he chuckles, lacing your fingers together. Bringing the back of your hand to his lips for an endearing kiss. "I'll tell you again tomorrow. I'll tell you every day, so you'd never forget."

It's unclear whether it's the liquid courage or the weight of his words, but something makes you close the distance all too easily, as if you'd done this a thousand times already. As if it weren't the first time you got to press your lips against his and learn how he tastes, how his every breath sounds, and how those arms feel around you knowing that he wants you. But as his lips part and as he gives in to your every touch, you feel a sense of familiarity. It feels sharp in your mind despite the way your other senses feel muted from the alcohol, and it tells you that maybe this was meant to happen. That this is something that's meant to be. And when Juyeon's hands cup your face and hold your waist ever so gently, you know that he isn't lying about being in love with you.

Just before the world disappears, you see the shot glass was on the nightstand. The final shot that you'd always end up regretting—he'd stopped you from taking it just as he promised.

"How are you feeling?" Juyeon asks even before your eyes are fully open. "Here," you hear him place something on the table beside the bed. "I got you water, painkillers, and some hangover soup."

Cracking an eye open, you find yourself staring at the familiar ceiling of Juyeon's room. It disorients you a little, not knowing what happened after the party, but the important part is that you remember what he said last night. How his lips had tasted and how they felt against yours. And yet, it feels fuzzy as if it were a dream.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" he asks softly. When you turn to look at him, there's a faint blush on his cheeks as he avoids your gaze.

"Not really," you lie. "I remember you saying you were going to tell me something?" You just had to be sure that what happened in your memories had been real, and not a fragment of a dream your mind manifested.

"Oh." Juyeon freezes instantly. "Um, yeah... but before I get to that though, I think we should start from the beginning." He sits down at the edge of the bed, still refusing to meet your eyes. "Y/N, I never wanted to end this friendship. You know I could never do that, right? The conversation we had wasn't for that purpose."

"But you were avoiding me—and don't try denying it. Lee Juyeon, I know you were." The jab to his arm gets you a wince out of him. "I had Eric telling me that you weren't even studying when you claimed to be so busy with schoolwork."

"That was... I thought that if I dated someone or if we stopped seeing each other so much, then maybe I could get over you." Juyeon pauses, running a hand through his hair. "And the conversation about unknowing things. I only meant that confessing my feelings for you would be something you could never unknow. That even if you hated the thought of me being in love with you, it would plague you forever and you could only wish to go back in time and not hear it at all."

"Oh."

"I was going to tell you," he sighs. "But I was afraid that you'd want to end our friendship. And then when you started liking Sangyeon and told me to date Yeseul, I thought that was pretty clear you didn't see me as anything more than a friend."

So it was indeed Eric's advice that had screwed you over. Sunwoo was right about this all along.

"That's not true," you shake your head. "Sangyeon was... Eric's idea actually. He told me to pretend to like someone just to see your reaction."

"Eric? Are you serious?"

"Your roommate Eric, yeah."

"No way," Juyeon frowns. "He's the one who's been asking me for advice about Sunwoo."

"What, really? No wonder none of us have had much luck with our love lives," you mutter, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at the fact that the four of you had all been unintentionally sabotaged by this chain of shitty relationship advice.

He shifts a little closer, looking at you as if he could see right through you to each of your thoughts. It makes your heart speed up just a notch. "You're saying Sangyeon was never the person you liked?"

"No, he never was."

"So," he whispers, "who is?"

Just before you respond, you're reminded of his answer from last night. The way it had slipped from his mouth, the way it had felt on your skin and against your lips. So now when Juyeon glances at you in anticipation of your answer, you decide to give it to him.

It's a little awkward as you close the distance this time without the liquid courage pumping through your veins. You're tentative and he's shy, and the angles aren't quite right as you find your nose bumping his. It carries every bit of the awkwardness of a first kiss—one that transports you back to high school, when you'd always imagined how your first kiss with him would feel like.

But soon, it becomes easy to tell him everything. You tell him slowly, gradually like the blooming of a tiny seed of love, flourishing silently over the years until you're staring right at its flower in full bloom. You tell him until it's screaming from every part of you; from the hands that trace it over his body, the lips that ingrain it into his skin, the breaths that whisper it into his lungs. You tell him until you don't have to, because you're sure he already knows.

And when you pull back, you can indeed see it written on his face. You see it in his bright smile and his loving eyes. The way he looks at you as if memorizing your every feature, again and again, like taking a picture with his mind.

The way that he's been dropping his own hints through these simple things all along, only you'd been too afraid of misinterpreting them to notice their meaning.

But perhaps these are things that you've always known. They're things that you've always had the luxury of being able to see but never truly notice. And when he presses his lips to yours again, you realize that maybe Juyeon's love was exactly that—something you'd been looking for this whole time without ever realizing that you were already surrounded by it.

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