#LIKE I'M RUNNING OUT OF TIME LIKE IN THAT HAMILTON SONG

[afterlife-2004]

Reminds me of “The World Was Wide Enough”, a song from the musical, Hamilton!

[aceyalonso]

a win-win situation? - LEWIS HAMILTON

pairing : lewis hamilton x fem!reader

summary : Fresh from a Formula 1 race win, Lewis Hamilton parties with his friends at a club. Y/n L/n, troubled by the condition that she must be married to inherit her father's company, is at the same club. They hit it off, have a few too many drinks, and wake up in a hotel room, shocked to realize they got married

warnings : drinking, swearing, suggestive content, 11-year age gap (reader is 28 years old)

word count : 7.1k

song : it won't stop - sevyn streeter, chris brown

a/n : 200 followers special & lewis win post!!! (i'm not sure if i want to make a part 2 to this ngl)

Sunday, 11:49 PM

The club was loud and chaotic, with people dancing, yelling, and drinking. The lights flashed colors in time to the music, giving off a disorienting feeling. The room was stuffy and hot, with people packed together like sardines, attempting to talk over the music and flirt with strangers

This club was like a small universe within itself, with each group doing its own thing and making a lot of noise while doing so. The music was loud enough to drown out any conversation that would have otherwise been attempted, and the alcohol only helped the chaos grow.

Some people were there to celebrate and have a good time, laughing and dancing with their friends to the music. Others were sulking and sad, either nursing a drink or trying to drown their miseries with alcohol.

Lewis was one of the people there to celebrate, and he was having the time of his life. They were all drinking and dancing in the center of the crowd, laughing and talking loudly to be heard over the music.

Unlike Lewis, who was having the time of his life on the dance floor, Y/n was at the bar with one of her friends. She was downing shot after shot, her mood sour and her temper short. The alcohol was dulling the edges of her anger.

Y/n

With a sigh, I slammed my glass down on the bar, my temper flaring. Lyka turned to me, her gaze curious and concerned as she asked, "So what did your father say that's got you in such a mood?"

I grumble, my irritation and bitterness clear in my voice. "My dad said I could inherit the company, but..."

I trail off, my mind swirling with the implications of my father's statement. Though part of me was undoubtedly happy to know that the family business would one day be mine, there was something else that bothered me.

Lyka picked up on my hesitation and leaned in closer to ask, "But what? You should be happy about that, right?"

I snort derisively, my shoulders tensing. "Yeah, I should be happy... But there's a catch, of course. There always is with him."

She frowns, sensing the weight of my discontentment. "What kind of catch are we talking about here?"

My words came out sharp and bitter, my eyes hardening. "I have to get married. That's the catch. My dad said I can inherit the company, but I have to be married first."

She gasps in surprise, clearly not expecting such a stipulation. "Wait, seriously? He's telling you that you have to be MARRIED just to inherit the company?"

I nod grimly, my expression darkening. "Yeah, that's the deal. I've got to find someone to settle down with if I ever want to take over the family business," I chuckled sarcastically. "It's ridiculous, I know."

Lyka's eyes widen, her face filled with sympathy. "damn, that's... rough. You don't even get a say in who you marry?"

I nod, my expression a mixture of frustration and resignation. "Yeah, that was the compromise. I get to choose who I marry but must be married within the next year. It's like he doesn't trust me to run the company by myself."

She lets out a sympathetic sigh, reaching out to comfort me. "That's so unfair, you shouldn't have to get married just to prove yourself. But I guess it's better than having someone picked for you, huh?"

I nodded grudgingly, letting out a small huff. "Yeah, I guess so. It's just… I'm not even sure if I want to get married at all, you know? The whole idea of it just feels so… I don't know, constraining, I guess."

Her friend nods, trying to shift the conversation to a lighter topic. "Okay, enough about your dad's stupid rule. Let's talk about something else. How's work been going for you?"

Y/n takes the chance to change the subject, grateful for the distraction. "Work's been alright. I've been so busy lately that I haven't had time for anything fun."

"Yeah, I know how that is," her friend replies sympathetically. "It feels like work just takes over your life sometimes. But hey, at least you're making some good money, right?"

Y/n lets out a dry chuckle, her mood lightening slightly. "Oh, yeah. I'm making really good money. So good that I practically live at the office these days."

Lyka laughs as well, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Damn, girl. Sounds like you're going to be rolling in it if you take over the company. You'll be able to buy anything and everything you've ever wanted."

Y/n grins, a little spark of hope reigniting at the thought. "Yeah, that's true. I could buy a nice house, or take fancy vacations whenever I want. I could pretty much do whatever I want, really."

Y/n's grin fades, her expression turning thoughtful. "But… I won't be able to take those vacations with a husband, would I? It would mean having to consider someone else's schedule and preferences, and I wouldn't be able to just take off whenever I want anymore."

Her friend nods sympathetically, her gaze understanding. "Yeah, that's a good point. Having a partner would definitely change things, especially when it comes to travel and leisure. It's not quite the same as having the freedom to go where and when you want, without any strings attached."

Y/n lets out a sigh, her irritation beginning to return. "Exactly. And it's not just the travel that's the issue. It's the whole idea of having to compromise and make sacrifices for someone else. I don't know if I'm ready for that, or if I ever will be."

The girls down another shot, the alcohol giving them a pleasant buzz. Y/n, feeling a little looser now, turns to her friend. "Hey, you know what? Let's go dance. We didn't come here just to sit at the bar all night, right?"

Her friend grins and nods in agreement, clearly ready to cut loose. "Yeah, let's do it. I could use some movement after hearing about your dad's ridiculous rule."

Y/n pushes away from the bar, her steps a little unsteady as the alcohol takes effect. Lyka laughs and steadies her, both of them making their way to the crowded dance floor.

They push their way through the sea of people, the music and lights creating a chaotic and energizing atmosphere. Y/n begins to sway and move to the beat. Lyka joins in, both of them letting go of their worries and simply enjoying the moment.

As Y/n is dancing, she suddenly feels the presence of someone behind her, close enough to dance but still leaving a respectful distance. Startled at first, she quickly realizes is being careful not to violate her space.

Y/n turns her head to catch a glimpse of who's behind her, her curiosity and excitement growing.

Her eyes widen as she turns and sees a man behind her. His hands are covered in intricate tattoos, drawing attention to his veiny hands and making her curious to know the stories behind them. But what truly captures her attention is his smile, a warm, charming grin that seems to light up his whole face.

"Hey," Y/n says, her voice a little breathless as she takes in his appearance.

His grin grows broader, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Hey there," he replies, his voice carrying over the music. "I hope you don't mind me joining in. You looked like you were having a good time."

Y/n laughs, the alcohol helping her loosen up. "No, it's fine. I don't mind at all. I was just surprised, that's all."

She continues to dance, her movements more fluid and relaxed now that she has someone to dance with. She glances over at the man, taking in his tattoos and his easygoing demeanor.

The man dances alongside her, his steps matching hers effortlessly. He moves with a grace and confidence that is almost captivating, his body flowing with the rhythm of the music. Every now and then, he'll glance at her, his gaze lingering for a moment before darting away again.

As they continue to dance, he takes the opportunity to introduce himself. "By the way, I'm Lewis," he says, his voice smooth and pleasant to the ears. "What's your name?"

Y/n glances at him with a smile, appreciating his forwardness. "I'm Y/n," she replies, her voice a little louder to be heard over the music. "It's nice to meet you, Lewis."

Lewis nods, his smile widening at her response. "Y/n. A pretty name for a pretty lady." He glances at her again, his gaze openly admiring her appearance.

Y/n feels a little thrill at his compliment, her cheeks heating slightly under his gaze. She glances back at him, her eyes taking in his tattoos and his confidence. "You're not so bad yourself," she replies with a flirtatious undertone.

Lewis raises an eyebrow at her response, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Is that a compliment I hear?" he replies with a hint of amusement. "Careful now, you might make me blush."

Y/n grins, enjoying the banter between them. "Oh, please. I doubt a guy like you blushes easily. You're probably used to girls fawning over you all the time."

Lewis lets out a laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're right about that. I do get my fair share of attention, but it's nice to have a conversation with someone who's not afraid to give me a little snark back."

Y/n grins, her earlier irritation completely forgotten as she dances with Lewis. "Oh, I can definitely give you snark. And don't think I'll go easy on you just because you're cute."

Lewis raises an eyebrow again, clearly enjoying their back-and-forth banter. "Oh, I would expect nothing less. It wouldn't be as much fun if you went easy on me, now would it?"

Y/n chuckles and leans closer to Lewis, the alcohol giving her a bit of courage. "Hey, if you're gonna keep me entertained with your witty banter, the least you can do is buy me a drink."

Lewis grins, clearly enjoying her demanding tone. "Oh, you drive a hard bargain, Y/n. But I think I can manage that."

He offers her his hand, a smirk on his face. "Come on, let's head back to the bar. What do you want to drink?"

Y/n takes his hand and follows him towards the bar, feeling a little flutter in her stomach. "I'll take a vodka soda, thanks," she replies, her gaze lingering on his tattoos again.

Lewis nods and leads her through the crowded club, his grip firm and reassuring on her hand. They reach the bar and he signals for the bartender, calling out Y/n's drink order. As they wait for their drinks, he turns to her with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"So," he says, leaning in close to be heard over the music. "You said you're not afraid to give me snark. Does that mean I have to watch my words, or are you just full of empty threats?"

Y/n laughs, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I'm a woman of my word. If you say something stupid, you can bet I'll call you out on it. Don't underestimate me, Lewis."

Lewis grins, clearly enjoying her feisty personality. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. In fact, I find a woman with a sharp tongue quite refreshing. It keeps me on my toes, you know?"

Y/n smiles, his comment making her heart flutter a bit more. "Well, you better get used to it then. Because I don't plan on holding back, no matter how charming you are."

"Good," Lewis replies, his voice low and sultry. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Just then, the bartender slides their drinks over to them, interrupting their conversation. Lewis hands Y/n her vodka soda, his fingers brushing against hers in the process.

Y/n feels a shiver run up her spine as their fingers touch, his touch sending tiny sparks across her skin. She takes a sip of her drink, the alcohol instantly making her feel more relaxed and carefree.

Lewis sips his own drink, eyeing her over the rim of his glass with a sly smile. "So, Y/n," he says, his tone a little more serious now. "What brings a woman like you out dancing by herself on a Friday night?"

Y/n glances around the club, her gaze landing on her friend who is dancing nearby. "Oh, I'm not actually here alone," she replies, her voice slightly amused. "My friend is over there. We came together, but she ditched me to dance with some guy."

Y/n turns to Lewis and gestures in the direction of her friend. "See that girl over there? The one who's talking to the DJ? That's my friend. She left me here to go flirt with him."

Lewis turns to look at the DJ, his eyes lighting up in recognition. "Whoa, wait a minute," he says, his tone tinged with surprise. "That's actually my friend, Lando."

Y/n raises an eyebrow at this new bit of information. "Wait, really? You know the DJ?"

Lewis nods, a small smirk on his face. "Yeah, we've known each other for a while. We met a few years back. We've been friends ever since."

Y/n takes a moment to process this new information, glancing over at her friend and Lando. "Well, I guess that explains why she's been dancing with him all night then."

Lewis laughs, clearly amused by the situation. "Looks like it. Lando has a way of charming the ladies. Seems like your friend isn't immune to it either."

Y/n chuckles. "Clearly not. She's practically drooling over him. But I can't blame her, he does have a certain charm."

"That he does," Lewis agrees, taking a sip of his drink. "He's a good guy, but he's got quite the reputation with the ladies. He has a new girl on his arm every weekend, it seems."

Y/n shakes her head with a smile, diverting the conversation back to Lewis. "Okay, enough about my friend and Lando. I want to know more about you."

Lewis grins, clearly enjoying her attention. "Oh, do you now? And what exactly do you want to know about me?"

Lewis chuckles at her question and replies, with a hint of mystery. "Well, I'm certainly older than you, that's for sure. Let's just say I've got a bit more experience under my belt."

Y/n grins, his response only making her more curious. "Oh, so you're an experienced one, huh? How much experience exactly? Or are you going to keep me in suspense?"

Lewis smirks, clearly enjoying their banter. "Now, Y/n, where's the fun in giving away all my secrets at once? You'll have to be patient if you want to find out more about me."

Y/n feigns disappointment, her expression exaggerated. "Oh, you're going to make me wait, huh? Fine, I guess I'll have to be patient. But I warn you, I'm not a very patient person."

Lewis relents, his smile widening as he answers her question. "Alright, since you're so insistent. I'm 39."

Her eyes widen in surprise, and she lets out a whistle. "Seriously? You're 39? I thought you were younger, like early 30s at the oldest."

Lewis chuckles, clearly enjoying her reaction. "I guess I'll take that as a compliment. I may be a bit older, but I like to think I still have a young heart, you know?"

Y/n grins, her initial surprise replaced by a touch of admiration. "That's impressive. You definitely don't act your age. You still look and act like you're in your 20s."

Lewis shrugs, a hint of pride in his gaze. "I take care of myself. I work out, eat healthy, and stay active. I guess it pays off, huh?"

Y/n nods approvingly, taking in his toned physique. "Yeah, it definitely does. You look like you could give guys half your age a run for their money."

Lewis quirks an eyebrow, a curious smile on his lips. "Alright, speaking of age, now it's my turn to ask. How old are you, Y/n?"

She takes a sip of her drink before answering, a touch of nervousness in her tone. "I'm 28," she replies, trying to sound nonchalant.

His eyes widen slightly, a look of surprise crossing his face. "28, huh? You look younger. I would have guessed you were in your mid-20s, tops."

Y/n chuckles, a mix of pride and embarrassment in her tone. "Thanks, I guess. I try to take care of myself too. I don't want to look like a fossil anytime soon."

Lewis laughs, clearly amused. "Fair enough. It's always good to stay young at heart, no matter your age. And it seems like you're doing a pretty good job of it so far."

Y/n grins, feeling bolder now. "Well, you know what they say - age is just a number, right? It's all about how you feel inside. And I feel pretty young and free right now."

Lewis nods in agreement, a twinkle in his eye. "That's a good attitude to have. Life is too short to let age define you. You gotta embrace every moment, no matter how old or young you are."

Y/n grins, raising her glass in agreement. "Here, here. To embracing every moment, no matter how old or young we are."

They clink their shot glasses together and take a swig, the alcohol burning their throats and adding to the already buzzing feeling in their systems.

Fast forward to a few hours later, Y/n and Lewis are both feeling the effects of the alcohol kicking in. Their movements are looser, their inhibitions lower, and their words a little bit slurred. They're both laughing and talking animatedly, the boundaries between them disappearing with every drink they take.

Y/n leans against the bar, her head spinning slightly, her gaze fixed on Lewis who is standing next to her. "You know, Lewis, you're not so bad when you're drunk," she slurs, a lazy smile on her face.

Lewis grins back at her, his eyes slightly glassy from the alcohol. "And you're not too bad yourself, Y/n. In fact, you're a damn good drinking partner."

Y/n throws her head back in a drunken giggle, feeling lightheaded and carefree. "Oh, I'm the best drinking partner you've ever had, buddy. I can out-drink you anytime, anyday."

Lewis leans closer to Y/n's ear, his breath warm on her skin as he slurs out a suggestion. "Hey, you wanna go somewhere a bit more private? Somewhere away from all these people?"

Y/n turns to him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. The alcohol has made her bolder and carefree, and she doesn't hesitate to agree. "Yeah, let's do it. Let's get away from this crowd. Leady the way, Lewis."

Lewis grins, his hand wrapping around hers as he leads her away from the packed nightclub. They weave through the sea of people, their steps a bit unsteady as the alcohol continues to flow through their systems.

They finally reach a quieter corner of the club, a more secluded area away from the hustle and bustle of the dance floor. Lewis leans against the wall, pulling Y/n closer to him, his hands resting on her hips.

Y/n stumbles a little as she steps closer, her body against his. Her head is spinning a bit, and her senses are heightened by the alcohol. She looks up at him, her eyes half-lidded. "This is better. Just you and me, away from the crowd."

Lewis nods in agreement, his eyes dark with desire as he looks down at her. His hands grip her hips tighter, pulling her closer. "Just you and me, Y/n. No one to bother us, no distractions."

They stand there, their bodies pressed together, gazes locked in a silent, charged moment. For a few seconds, time seems to stand still as they take each other in, their breathing heavy and their hearts pounding in their chests.

The air between them crackles with electricity, their connection undeniable. Lewis' hands move up from her hips, tracing along her sides, and Y/n shivers at his touch, her skin tingling from his caress.

Lewis pulls her even closer, their bodies now flush against each other. Y/n can feel every muscle, every contour of his body against hers, and she can't help but shiver again. She lifts her chin, her lips parting slightly as she gazes up at him, her eyes hooded with desire.

Without warning, Lewis loses control and closes the gap between them, his lips crashing into hers in a kiss that's all hunger and need. It's a messy, sloppy kiss, fueled by the alcohol and the mounting tension between them.

Y/n responds instantly, her lips parting willingly under his as she returns the kiss with equal fervor. Her hands wrap around his neck, her fingers tangling into his braids as she clings to him, her body arching into his.

The kiss deepens, their mouths moving together in a frenzied, sloppy dance of desire. Teeth clash and tongues tangle, as they pour all their pent-up frustration and lust into the kiss.

Lewis' hands roam freely across her body, pulling her closer, his touch possessive and urgent. Y/n moans into his mouth, her body responding to his touch, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

After a few moments that feel like an eternity, Y/n manages to pull herself back, breaking the kiss. Her chest is heaving with every labored breath, her body ablaze with desire. Her eyes flutter open, and she gazes at Lewis, her lips swollen and cheeks flushed.

Y/n glances up at Lewis, her expression a little dazed and a little amused. "Damn, you know what? You're a pretty good kisser. I might just have to marry you for that reason alone."

Lewis laughs, his head leaning back against the wall. "Is that all it takes, huh? A good kiss and you're ready to tie the knot?"

Y/n grins, tilting her head to the side. "Hey, I'm just saying, I think you'd make a pretty good husband… as long as you keep kissing me like that."

Lewis chuckles, his hands still resting on her hips, his grip a little looser now. "Is that a threat or a promise?" he teases, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Y/n pretends to think for a moment, her index finger tapping her chin. "A little bit of both, I think," she replies, a cheeky smile on her lips. "I'll expect a ring, but you'll have to keep up with those kisses… among other things."

Lewis laughs, shaking his head in bemusement. "You know what? Sure, why not? Let's do it. I'll marry you. I guess a good kissing record is enough to secure the deal."

Y/n, giggling like a schoolgirl, grabs Lewis's hand and pulls him out of the club. The cool night air hits them, and she shivers slightly, her head still spinning from the alcohol. "Let's go! Let's go get married!"

Monday, 8:57 AM

Y/n groans as she slowly opens her eyes, blinking against the bright light streaming through the curtains. She lifts her head, her mind fuzzy and disoriented, and takes in her surroundings. She's lying in a hotel room, the unfamiliar surroundings taking a moment to register in her hungover mind.

As her vision clears, she becomes aware of the weight and heat of another body pressed against hers. She turns her head slightly and sees Lewis lying next to her, fast asleep, their hands intertwined between them.

Y/n's eyes widen as she glances down at her hand, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of the ring on her finger. Her head is still fuzzy from the alcohol and her memories of the previous night are hazy, but the ring on her finger is undeniable.

She tries to pull her hand away from Lewis's grasp, but his fingers remain tightly interlaced with hers, even in his sleep. The realization of what happened slowly starts to sink in, and Y/n looks from her hand to Lewis's sleeping face, her mind buzzing with confusion and disbelief.

The room is silent, apart from the steady sound of Lewis's breathing. Y/n lies still, her heart pounding as her mind races, trying to make sense of the situation. She glances at the ring again, her stomach churning with a mixture of shock, disbelief, and a hint of excitement.

She's married. She's actually married. To Lewis. The thought is both terrifying and exhilarating, and Y/n isn't sure if it's the alcohol still lingering in her system or the sheer absurdity of the situation that's making her feel so lightheaded.

She lies there for a few more moments, her hand still trapped in Lewis's grip, her mind swirling with a million thoughts and questions. What did she get herself into? How did this happen? And most importantly, how is she going to face Lewis when he wakes up?

As the minutes tick by, Y/n takes deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. She glances at Lewis again, his peaceful expression a stark contrast to the turmoil in her head. She can feel the warm weight of his leg draped over hers, their bodies intertwined in the narrow hotel bed.

A small part of her is scared, unsure of what the future holds now that she's inadvertently married Lewis. But another part of her, the part fueled by alcohol-induced courage and impulsiveness, is curious, excited even, at the possibility of what this unexpected turn of events could mean.

Still, her head is throbbing with a headache, a reminder of the night before and the alcohol they consumed. She tries to piece together the events that led them to this point, but her memories are hazy and fragmented, like pieces of a puzzle that refuse to fit together.

Y/n attempts to wake Lewis up, gently shaking his shoulder and calling his name in a soft, hoarse voice. "Lewis… wake up, Lewis…" she murmurs, her head still aching as she speaks.

Lewis stirs at the sound of her voice, his eyes slowly opening as he blinks against the bright light filtering through the curtains. He looks disoriented for a moment, his gaze bleary as he takes in his surroundings and slowly registers where he is, and more importantly, who he is with.

As his eyes focus on Y/n's face, a look of realization dawns on his own. He lifts his head, his expression a mixture of surprise and disbelief as he looks down at their intertwined hands. His fingers, still linked with hers, tighten around hers as he processes their current predicament.

"Holy shit," he mutters under his breath, his voice hoarse and dry from sleep. "Did we…?" He trails off, his gaze shifting from their hands to her face, his eyes searching hers for an answer.

Y/n nods slowly, her heart hammering in her chest as she meets his gaze. The reality of their situation is crashing down on her now, and she can feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she responds. "Yeah… I think we did, Lewis. We…" she swallows hard, the words stuck in her throat. "…I think we got married."

Lewis's eyes widen further, his surprise mirrored in his expression. He sits up slowly, still holding her hand in his. "We got married," he repeats, his tone disbelieving. He runs his free hand through his bed-rumpled hair, a look of disbelief and confusion on his face. "How the hell did that happen?"

Y/n shakes her head, her own disbelief just as evident. "I don't know. I can barely remember last night. We were at the club, and we were both drunk and…" her voice trails off as the memories of the previous night continue to elude her.

Lewis lets out a deep sigh, his hand still firmly holding hers. "Yeah, same here. It's all a blur to me too. I remember having a few drinks, and then…" He pauses, shaking his head in disbelief. "This is insane. We got married. Like, actually married."

Y/n nods again, her eyes still on their intertwined hands. "I know. It's unbelievable. We were just… having fun, you know? Having drinks, dancing, joking around. And now…" she trails off again, her mind struggling to process the situation.

Y/n lets out a slew of profanities under her breath, her frustration and disbelief spilling out in a rush of colorful words. "This is unbelievable. I can't believe we actually got married. Of all the stupid things we could have done, we tied the knot. What were we thinking?"

Her head is still throbbing with a killer hangover headache, and the reality of their situation is hitting her like a freight train. She glances over at Lewis, who is still sitting up next to her, looking just as shocked and bewildered as she feels.

Part of her wants to pinch herself to see if it's all real, but the presence of the ring on her finger and the warm weight of Lewis's hand holding hers confirms that it is indeed no dream.

Y/n's eyes widen as she looks at the documents on the table. They're official documents, a marriage certificate bearing both her name and Lewis's. Her heart skips a beat as the reality of the situation hits her like a ton of bricks. This is really happening. They're really, legally married.

The weight of this realization makes her feel dizzy, and she has to steady herself against the table, her hand clenching the edge of it. Her mind is spinning, the headache and the alcohol from the previous night not helping her process this new level of insanity.

Lewis stands up next to her, his movements slow and slightly groggy as he takes the documents from her. He glances through them, his eyes skimming the words and official stamps, the reality of their situation sinking in with each line he reads.

Lewis puts the papers back down on the table, his expression still laced with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. He turns towards Y/n, his expression serious now. "I think we need to talk about this. We can't just ignore the fact that we're apparently married now."

Y/n nods, her own expression solemn. She's still struggling to wrap her mind around the situation, but she knows he's right. They can't just pretend it never happened, not when there's a signed marriage certificate sitting right there.

She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her thoughts. "You're right. We need to talk about this. But I don't even know where to start."

Lewis lets out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair again. "Neither do I," he admits. "But I guess we start with the obvious questions. Like, how the hell did we even end up getting married in the first place?"

Y/n shakes her head, her confusion mirrored on her face. "I have no idea. I remember us drinking, and dancing, and… well, not much else. It's all pretty blurry after a certain point."

Lewis nods, his expression thoughtful. "Same here. I remember having drinks, and things being fun and light-hearted, and then the next thing I know, we're waking up here, married. It's like a gap in my memory or something."

As the two of them continue to discuss their predicament, out of nowhere, a fragment of Y/n's memory resurfaces, a flash of her father's words from a few days ago. Her face twists with a mix of surprise and frustration as the recollection comes to her.

The memory of her father's words comes rushing back to her now, a sudden realization dawning on her face. The strange, cryptic instructions he'd given her a few days ago about being married come back to her, and now they make a terrible, twisted sort of sense in the context of her current situation.

She looks at Lewis, her eyes suddenly wide with shock and realization. "Oh my god… my dad," she mutters under her breath. The memory of her father telling her she needed to be married for the family business suddenly has a new, and very unnerving, meaning.

Lewis looks at her, confusion and concern on his face. "Your dad? What about him?" he asks, his voice filled with a sense of dread at her sudden outburst.

Y/n explains the situation to Lewis, revealing the deal she had made with her father regarding the inheritance and the family business. She also suggests that they stay married for a little while, just long enough for her to inherit, and then they could get a divorce.

Lewis looks stunned by her revelation and her proposal, his eyes widening as he absorbs the information. "So you're saying we only have to stay married until you inherit? Then we divorce?" he asks, his tone laced with disbelief.

Y/n nods, her expression earnest. "Yes, that's what I'm proposing. We stay married for a while, for the sake of the deal with my father, and then we get a divorce as soon as I inherit. It will be a temporary arrangement, nothing more."

Lewis looks at her, his expression still a mix of disbelief and contemplation. "Married for a while, then divorce," he says slowly, tasting the words on his tongue as he mulls over the idea.

He runs a hand through his hair again, his eyes locked with hers. "It's a lot to take in," he says finally. "Like, we're talking about getting divorced already, and we've only been married for…" He checks the date on the marriage certificate, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "…for less than 24 hours, apparently."

He lets out a dry laugh, rubbing his face with one hand. "This is insane," he mutters. "Married. And already planning a divorce."

He looks back at Y/n, his expression a mix of uncertainty and a touch of humor. "You know, most couples don't start planning their divorce on their first day of marriage," he jokes.

Y/n manages a weak smile in response, the joke lifting the tension a bit. "Yeah, I know," she concedes. "But most couples don't get married in a drunken haze after partying all night either."

Y/n nods and extends her hand for a handshake. "Alright, it's a deal," she says. "We stay married until I inherit, and then we get a divorce. Agreed?"

Lewis looks down at her offered hand, a resigned acceptance in his eyes. He nods and takes her hand firmly, giving it a firm shake. "Agreed," he says. "Temporary spouses, here we go."

Lewis' expression suddenly shifts as he realizes the implications of their agreement. "Oh, fuck," he mutters, his eyes widening. "My PR team is going to have a field day with this."

He looks at her, his expression still one of disbelief at the situation. "My PR team," he clarifies. "You know, the people who manage my public image. They're going to have a lot to handle with this unexpected… development. It's not every day your client gets married out of the blue after a night of heavy drinking."

Y/n looks at him, a realization beginning to dawn on her. "Wait a second," she says, her eyes narrowed in thought. "You have a PR team," she repeats, her voice laced with disbelief. "Why on earth would you need a PR team… unless you're some kind of celebrity or something?"

Lewis laughs, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, uh, about that," he says, scratching the back of his head. "I guess I kind of forgot to mention that part. I'm, um, a professional Formula 1 racer, actually."

Y/n's jaw drops at his revelation. "Formula 1?" she echoes, her surprise evident. "You're a professional racer? And you didn't think to mention that before?"

Lewis grimaces slightly, looking a bit sheepish. "Yeah, sorry about that. It slipped my mind last night, with all the drinking and… well, the whole getting married thing. I didn't think it would come up quite like this, to be honest."

Her expression remains one of disbelief, but there's also a hint of intrigue. "Formula 1," she repeats, her mind now processing this new piece of information. "So you race high-speed cars for a living."

Lewis nods, his face now showing a hint of pride. "That's right," he confirms. "I race for Mercedes- Ferrari soon enough. It's a pretty public profession, hence the PR team."

Y/n takes a moment to process this new revelation. "Okay, so you're a professional racer, with a whole team dedicated to managing your image and public relations. And we… got married last night, without knowing any of that about each other."

Lewis nods, a rueful smile on his face. "Exactly," he concurs. "We had absolutely no idea who each other was, got drunk, got married, and now I have to deal with the fallout with my PR team."

Y/n can't help but find the situation a little insane, but she can also see the humor in it. "Well, this is certainly, uh, interesting," she says finally, her voice almost a laugh. "I can only imagine the look on your PR team's faces when you tell them about this."

Lewis lets out a dry laugh, hiding his face in between his hands. "Yeah, I am not looking forward to that conversation," he confesses. "But I guess it's part of the package when you're a public figure. Nothing stays private, even if you don't want it to."

Y/n's expression softens a bit as she looks at him, seeing the tension in his face. As much as this situation is affecting her, she can't imagine the added layer of scrutiny he has to deal with due to his job. "You really have to consider everything when you're in the public eye, huh?" she comments, her tone a touch sympathetic.

She puts a hand on her forehead, the lingering effects of the hangover headache making her wince. "You know what," she says, "we should probably get some aspirin or something. I can't stand this headache much longer."

Lewis nods in agreement, his hand still massaging his temples. "Yeah, you read my mind," he says. "I don't know about you, but I can't think straight with this headache pounding in my skull."

Y/n gets up from her seat, her movements a bit unsteady as she stands up to look for her bag. "I think I have some Advil in my bag," she says. "I always keep some handy for hangovers like this."

Lewis watches as she rummages through her bag, trying to focus despite the persistent headache. "You're always prepared, aren't you?" he teases, his tone a mix of light humor and genuine admiration.

Y/n flashes him a small smile over her shoulder. "I try," she replies, her hand pulling out a small bottle of pain reliever. "I've learned the hard way that hangovers are no joke after a night of partying. It pays to be prepared."

Lewis gets out of bed as well, wincing slightly at the sudden movement. "I wish I had your foresight," he says sheepishly, a rueful chuckle escaping him. "I seem to forget about the aftermath until it's too late."

Y/n shakes a couple of pills out into her palm, handing him a couple of them along with a bottle of water. "Learn from this experience, then," she suggests with a smirk. "Maybe next time you'll remember the consequences before you drink the night away."

Lewis accepts the pills from Y/n, his expression is still sheepish but his tone still holds some humor. "Yeah, maybe next time I won't find myself accidentally married," he quips, dryly. "Lesson learned."

Y/n can't help but chuckle at his attempt at humor, appreciating his ability to see the lighter side even in such a bizarre situation. "I'm sure we both learned a lot last night," she remarks, her tone lighthearted. "Mostly about the dangers of too much alcohol, I think."

Lewis downs the pills, washing them down with a long gulp of water. He hands the bottle back to her, his expression now a bit more sober and serious. "Yeah, it's definitely a lesson in moderation, among other things," he concurs. "And… communication, it seems."

Y/n takes the bottle back, her eyes meeting his. She understands his meaning - that maybe they should have been more open and communicative with each other before getting into this mess. "You're right," she agrees. "We definitely could have avoided a lot if we'd just… talked first, before…" she trails off, gesturing toward the marriage certificate on the table.

Y/n holds up a hand, signaling that she needs to excuse herself. "I'm going to use the bathroom real quick," she says, her voice a bit quieter now. "Then we can…" She trails off, leaving the sentence hanging, implying they can continue their conversation once she returns.

Lewis nods in understanding, his eyes following her as she leaves the room. Once she's out of earshot, he lets out a long sigh and sits back down on the edge of the bed, rubbing his temples again. "This is a lot to process," he mutters to himself, his mind swirling with the events of the previous night.

Y/n closes the bathroom door behind her and takes a moment to breathe, trying to gather her thoughts. She leans against the sink, her hands gripping the edges, as she looks at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair is disheveled, her eyes still slightly bloodshot from the effects of the previous night's indulgence.

She splashes some cold water on her face, trying to clear her head and shake off the last remnants of the hangover. As she blots her face with a towel, her mind drifts back to the conversation she just had with Lewis, and the magnitude of the situation they now find themselves in settles heavily on her shoulders.

Y/n leans against the wall near the sink, her mind going over their agreement. Stay married temporarily until she inherits, and then divorce. It all sounds so simple, so logical when put like that. But she couldn't shake the feeling that there's more to it, that they're getting into something bigger than they're prepared for.

She looks at herself in the mirror again, her eyes betraying the turmoil inside her. On one hand, she knows they have to go through with this, for the sake of her inheritance and the future of her family's business. But on the other hand, she can't ignore the twinge of guilt and doubt that comes with the decision to play house with almost a stranger.

Her mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, a jumble of pragmatism and uncertainty. She takes a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts. There will be time to deal with the emotional aspects later, she tells herself. For now, they have to focus on the practicality of the situation, on navigating this new reality of being married, even if it's only temporary.

𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍��𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

taglist

@nepobbylver

[lorarri]

★ . . . 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 , 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

summary , a song on a collab album starts sparks on social media and reveles a long time crush that a rapper has on a certain ferrari driver

pairing , rapper! lewis hamilton x fem! ferrari! f1 driver! reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | sol’s masterlist | f1 masterlist

f1

liked by champagnepapi xnda 199,257,368 others

f1 the rappers are out in full force for the first race of the season 😮‍💨🫡✨

view comments

user poor Justin being dragged to the race just to see Y/N

user Drake and Lewis def are there to profess their love for Y/N

user STAY AWAY FROM MY WIFE FUCK BOYS

user why are these guys even at the race

user how am I supposed to compete with XNDA AND DRAKE

user Y/N RUN

user okay but drake and Y/N couple be such a good couple ⤷ xnda hello what am I chopped liver???  ⤷ user PHAHAHHAHHAH

user find it so funny how forza ferrari was playing all weekend

user the fact that xnda and drake got to meet Y/N before me I'M SO JEALOUS

user okay but the way xnda was talking about Y/N in the interview he did with martin HE'S IN LOVEEEEE

user I know drive to survie gonna EAT THIS UPPPPP

view comments

F1 → Y/N L/N TALKS ABOUT THE SEASON SO FAR AND THE XNDA AND DRAKE SONG

Y/N

baby one chance is all your getting

pick me up from my apartment at 9pm

we are going to dinner

LEWIS

you won't regret this baby

once change is all I need

I promise

xnda

liked by yourinstagram champagnepapi 398,479,480 others

xnda you call it stalking I call it persistence, but still I rise

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[maretinelli]

SWEET NIGHT

Dad!Lewis Hamilton X mom!fem!reader

Summary: When the little Hamilton family has a fun night out with their little girl and Roscoe.

Words: 2.8K+

Warnings: Daddy Lewis, Mommy Y/n, mentions of Italy, daughter, cute and just cute things, maybe a suggestive themed ending.

Author: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes there may be. And I love Papa Lewis, I could read everything on this topic😭❤️‍🩹 (You can request stories on my profile!)

MASTERLIST

Y/n was in the kitchen, stirring a pan while the soft sound of Italian music filled the room. She liked to put on podcasts, songs and talk to her daughter in Italian, so that the little girl would have her independence in the language. Since with her father's work, the family had to move to Italy.

Mariah sat near the island, absorbed in her coloring book, her small hands quickly coloring the pictures carefully. While Roscoe, lying next to the girl, seemed to be enjoying the peace of the house, his gaze calm and distant, as if he had surrendered to time.

The oldest one talked about her daughter's writing in Italian, giving her tips and telling her what she could use as a basis to write better.

"Mommy, you've explained to me a thousand times how to do this, I already know," Mariah said, shaking her head, still not letting go of her focus on the image.

Y/n smiled, trying to hide her amusement as she turned her food over. "I know, honey. I just wanted to make sure you understood." She walked past her daughter and placed a quick kiss on the girl's wavy hair.

The little girl let out a dramatic sigh, her brow furrowed as she looked at Roscoe, who had his head down, looking dejected. "Why does Roscoe seem so sad lately?"

"Ah, it's because he's getting old and tired, you know? He doesn't have the same energy to play as you do." Y/n adds seasoning to the food she was preparing.

Mariah still had her eyes on the dog as he snored softly in his sleep.

"How old is he, Mom?"

Y/n let out a sincere smile, amused by the seriousness with which the question was asked.

"Oh, I don't know exactly. But when I started dating Dad, Roscoe was already there. So I can't say for sure." Y/n smiles at her daughter, and she smiles back at him with the same smile as her father. "We can ask Dad as soon as he gets here."

Mariah looks at the dog again: "He really does look old." Then she picks up the colored pencil again and starts coloring again. "He must be as old as daddy!"

Y/n laughed, surprised by the comparison, as she dropped the spoon into the pan. Young Hamilton looked at her mother in amusement.

"Well, when Daddy gets home from work, I'll tell him about it!"

Mariah laughed loudly, enjoying the fun moment with her mother, and Roscoe, as always, didn't care much about the family's jokes.

Y/n continued talking to Mariah as she stirred dinner, the words flowing naturally between them.

Little Mariah Hamilton was a perfect mix of her parents, but the traits of Lewis's genetics stood out more, making Y/n remember her husband every time she looked at her daughter's wavy dark hair or when she smiled.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do for your next birthday, Mariah?" Y/n sets the table with plates, glasses and silverware.

"I don't know..." she says thoughtfully, stopping her drawing for a moment. "I'm in doubt between two themes..."

Y/n smiled, looking at her daughter, as she walked over to the stove, where Mariah was sitting on the front counter.

"It's okay, sweetie. We still have time to think."

Just then, the front door opened. The familiar sound of Lewis's footsteps made Mariah's face light up and Y/n cracked a smile. The house was filled with silent anticipation, the family's routine interrupted only by this small daily ritual.

Roscoe, who until then had been quiet next to Mariah, suddenly stood up, his ears pricked up, as if he had sensed his owner's presence. Before Lewis had even fully entered, Roscoe took off, running excitedly towards the entrance.

The girl gave a cry of surprise and laughter, watching the dog running around the house, wagging its tail excitedly.

"Roscoe, you're too excited right now!" Mariah said, laughing loudly, her identical Lewis smile spreading across her face.

Y/n laughed.

"Girls, I'm home!" Lewis called out from the front door as he hung up his car keys. "Hey, Roscoe, how are you, buddy?" Lewis said, his voice soft and caring, reaching down to pet Roscoe, running his hand through the dog's fur affectionately.

Hamilton smelled the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen, and then decided to follow it, knowing that his girls would probably be there making dinner.

"Look there, my girls!" He smiles when he sees Y/n at the stove finishing dinner and Mariah perched on the stool coloring.

Lewis hugs his daughter from behind and kisses her cheek, making her laugh as her father's beard tickles her. Hamilton smiles as he hears the laughter and then looks at his wife, approaching and hugging her.

"How are you guys?" He asks, after giving the woman a quick kiss on the lips.

"We're fine. We were just talking about Mariah's Italian lessons, weren't we, daughter?" Y/n smiled, placing the pan on the table and walking back, while Lewis snaked his hand down to rest on his wife's waist.

"Oh, really? And how are you?" Lewis asks interestedly, looking at his daughter.

"I think it's going well... Today I managed to understand almost everything the teacher said in class, she even colored it in.

Y/n and Lewis exchange an amused look when they hear the 'almost everything' coming from their daughter.

"That's great, sweetie." Lewis walks over to his daughter, kissing the top of her head.

Y/n smiles. "So Mariah..." she begins, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at her daughter in front of her and her husband. "Aren't you going to tell daddy what you said to mommy just now?" She holds back a laugh and Lewis looks at the two of them curiously.

"What have you been up to, Bub?" He drawls, pinching her nose lightly. Making her giggle.

Mariah shrugs a little and sets the pencil aside, turning to see her father's amused face.

"I told you Roscoe is as old as you." She went back to coloring, while Y/n laughed again and Lewis stood there looking at his daughter, a smile appearing on his face and a false indignation.

"You did what?" He asks playfully, starting to tickle his daughter. "I'm not old, just so you know." Mariah laughed out loud.

"It's okay, it's okay...daddy's not old. Just Roscoe" Mariah shouts laughing, making Lewis stop tickling and smile seeing his daughter's face.

"That's much better" He kisses the top of her head and turns to Y/n laughing.

Mariah looks at her mother and makes a discreet gesture with her finger, as if to say that he was just a 'little' old. Y/n holds back a laugh and rolls her eyes.

Everyone knew what a great jokester Mariah could be. But sometimes she outdid herself in her jokes.

"Okay you two. Old or young, dinner is on the table waiting for you" Y/n says and Lewis walks past her, slapping his wife's ass, making her squeal.

"I'm not old, you know," he whispered into his wife's ear, as she smiled sideways and a shiver ran through her body.

Mariah, for her part, struggled to get down from the high chair.

"Hey, honey. Let me help you." Lewis comes and picks up his daughter, giving her a kiss on the cheek and placing her near the table.

After dinner and cleaning up, the little Hamilton family gathered in the great room, along with Roscoe. In the center of the room, a small toy table was surrounded by a likely circle: Lewis, Y/n and even Roscoe, all sitting on the floor, with their knees bent and their gazes focused.

Mariah was in charge, her little face beaming with joy as she poured imaginary tea into the toy mugs. She wore a sparkling tiara on her head, her princess costume creating an extra sparkle in her eyes.

Around her, her parents were dressed in the makeshift costumes she had chosen herself.

The incredible serious Ferrari driver - Lewis, was unrecognizable with a pink princess tiara on his head and fairy wings spread across his back, trying to maintain a serious expression, but the corners of his mouth betrayed his smile.

He looked at his daughter with a fond gleam in his eyes, knowing she had gotten what she wanted, as she always did, but also feeling grateful for these small, adorable moments.

Y/n, on the other hand, had light makeup done by Mariah, her eyes softly colored with shadows and a bit of glitter that her daughter loved to apply. She wore several scarves around her neck, some awkwardly wrapped and others hanging down, and a pair of childish glasses were stuck on her head, over her hair.

Even poor Roscoe had glasses on his doggy face, not really caring about the game, just laying there for Mariah to play with.

Mariah seemed to have her parents wrapped around her finger, as if they were completely at her beck and call, but at the same time, she treated them with such affection and sweetness that it didn't feel like a command, but a desire to share.

"Daddy, do you want some more tea? Mommy, can I get you some cookies?" he asked softly but confidently, knowing they would never say no.

As Mariah continued to serve tea and tell stories, Lewis allowed himself to relax, forgetting for a moment the hectic life he led. He was there, with his family, on a peaceful night, and that was all he really needed.

He laughed lovingly at the way Yin played with their daughter, as if all the worries in the world could wait while they lived in this moment.

"Daddy, do you need more tea?" Mariah asked again, her expression beaming as she held out the toy mug to Lewis, who, with a smile of pure happiness, pretended to take a sip.

"Of course, my princess," he said, his voice soft and caring, and there, in that simple gesture, he realized that he didn't need anything else beyond that little scene, that unconditional love that seemed to fill every corner of the house.

Mariah, with her sparkling tiara and focused expression, poured another imaginary cup of tea for her father, who greeted it with a smile.

When she turned to hand the imaginary cookie to Y/n, she noticed that the cookie toy was almost empty, with only a few pieces visible on the table. With an expression of slight frustration, she raised her hands and said in her childish, determined voice:

"Just a minute, Mommy, I'll get some more cookies!"

Without waiting for a response, she ran excitedly into the room, her little legs making a happy noise as she walked away.

"Our daughter really is amazing, isn't she?" Lewis said with a tender smile, touching her hand.

Y/n looked at him, her eyes shining with affection, and nodded. "She has a unique way of making everything more fun," she replied softly, feeling her heart warm at the moment.

Lewis then leaned towards Y/n, pulling her close and whispering something sweet in her ear. "I still can't believe you're mine," he said with a fond smile, before pulling his wife into a kiss on the lips, affection spreading between them.

Mariah walked into the room with a new toy in her hands, a small, mischievous smile on her face. She placed the toy on the table, crossed her arms with a serious expression, and approached her father, pulling his head back, making him look at her with a confused look.

"Hey, what are you doing, princess?" Lewis asked, laughing, while Y/n also smiled at the funny scene. Mariah held her father's head back gently.

"You can't kiss. Princess Mommy is promised to another prince."

Y/n let out a laugh, and Lewis widened his eyes, pretending to be shocked.

"Hey, what's this? I came first and I conquered first! Princess Mommy is mine," he said playfully, pulling Yin into an awkward hug, nearly knocking over the toys around them.

"Okay... you can have Princess Mommy... but only because you're my Daddy," She said with a chuckle, before jumping towards the table and throwing herself back on the couch, pretending to be defeated.

Y/n smiled at that unique moment, hugging Lewis back, feeling a warmth in her chest. She couldn't imagine living that sweet dream, with the family they had created, when she met Lewis ten years ago. Life had been full of surprises and twists and turns, and that simple, yet perfect moment, was everything she could have wished for.

"I can't help but love this," Y/n whispered, stroking Mariah's hair as the girl played with her teacup again. "I love you guys! So, so much!"

Lewis kissed Y/n's forehead affectionately, still smiling at the funny and loving moment they had just shared.

"I love you too, princess mommy," he said in a soft, loving voice. "And I will win you forever."

Y/n's gaze met his, and for an instant, the entire world seemed to stop, leaving only that moment of pure happiness and familial love.

The mood only dissipated when little Hamilton asked if anyone wanted a biscuit to go with their imaginary tea.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tea night had long since ended, the house was silent except for the soft sound of music playing in the background.

Y/n was in the living room, picking up the toys scattered around the small makeshift tea table. Roscoe was lying on the carpet, watching her with his tired eyes, as if he understood the serenity of the moment. She smiled at him.

"You're tired, buddy, but you did a great job today. Mariah loves you, you know? I bet she'll want to take you to ballet tomorrow, but you can sleep in a little longer, okay?"

The dog wagged his tail slightly, as if in agreement.

Lewis comes out of the hallway and appears in the living room, bringing with him a smile and a sparkle in his eyes. He comes closer, leaning against the doorframe for a moment, watching Y/n fondly as she finishes putting away her toys.

"She finally fell asleep," he began, walking over to her. "But before she closed her eyes, she said something that made me laugh."

"What's wrong?" Y/n looked curiously.

"She said she was really tired because, and I quote, 'Being a princess is a hard job, Daddy, but someone's gotta do it.'" He laughed, shaking his head. "I think we have a little leader in our house."

Y/n laughed with him, shaking her head in amusement.

"She's growing up so fast, Lew. It seems like just yesterday she was that tiny baby in our arms. And now, she's so smart and full of personality."

Lewis approached her, wrapped her in a hug from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder, as he always did when he wanted a quiet and close moment. Y/n smiled instantly, feeling that familiar butterflies in her stomach, something he still managed to provoke in her after so many years together.

"She gets her intelligence from her mother," he commented, gently kissing the side of her neck.

"And father's charisma," Y/n replied, tilting her head to lean against him, the smile still on her lips.

For a few moments, they stood there, enjoying the silence and each other's company, until Lewis broke the moment with an unexpected question:

"Have you ever thought about having one more?"

Y/n turned her head to look at him, surprised, but with a curious glint in her eyes. "Another child?"

"Yeah, why not?" He smiled, wrapping his arms around her more tightly. "Mariah would make a great big sister. And I'd love to do it all over again."

Y/n chuckled softly, thinking about the idea.

"I never imagined you would bring this up now. But... it's not a bad idea."

Lewis smiled, clearly pleased with her answer. He gently turned her to face him and pulled her into a hot kiss, full of passion and desire. Y/n melted into his arms, as she always did, and smiled against his lips.

When the kiss ended, he murmured in a playful tone, "So... how about we start now?"

Y/n laughed loudly, pushing him lightly in the chest.

"Lewis!"

Before she could protest further, he quickly picked her up and placed her over his shoulders, eliciting a surprised gasp from her followed by laughter.

"What are you doing?!"

"Taking the queen to her chambers, of course," he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Y/n laughed as he walked down the hallway, commenting, "You're a freak!"

"Maybe. But I'm your crazy person," he retorted, laughing along with her as they disappeared towards the bedroom, the sound of their laughter filling the house.

Author: My first name is Mariah (actually, without the H) but it's the same thing hahahaha

[pickingupmymercedes]

When hating you was all I wanted 3/3 - Lewis Hamilton

A special trilogy part of 1K Jukebox Event

Longer than I care to admit (pt.1) | Even when I said I didn't (pt.2) | When hating you was all I wanted (pt.3).

song: Ruin my life - Zara Larsson (it's not on the jukebox but I heard it and I knew it was the perfect one to tie up the other two songs together)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

a/n: shout out to those who read Ways to say "I love you", there's a special nod to one of the prompts

wordcount: +2k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

The overlapping announcements, rolling luggage, and hurried footsteps are chaotic on their own right.

But I can barely hear it over the frantic pounding of my heart.

I don’t know how I got here. My hands still tremble from grabbing my keys, slipping into my shoes, and bolting out of the apartment like my life depended on it.

Maybe it does.

Each step is a struggle against the tide of people flowing in every direction but mine. My lungs burn as I push forward, my mind looping the same damning mantra over and over:

You’re too late. He’s gone. You’ve lost him.

The flight notification had burned into my mind the moment I saw it, a flashing reminder of the time I don’t have.

Forty-five minutes until takeoff. Thirty-five if they’re boarding now.

The logical part of me knows this is reckless.

Security is probably already eyeing me, suspicious of the girl darting through terminals like she’s in a spy movie. I should stop.

Think. Breathe.

But logic doesn’t matter when you’re running for your heart.

My hand shakes as I clutch my phone, the unanswered calls mocking me on the screen.

“Come on, Lewis,” I whisper, desperation threading my voice. Another call, another ring that leads straight to voicemail. “Pick up. Please.”

The last word cracks like a plea, lost in the cacophony around me.

I hate airports. I hate how cold they feel, how big and impersonal they are. How easy it is to lose someone in the endless sea of faces.

But most of all, I hate how every passing second feels like one more nail in the coffin of my cowardice.

You let him leave. You let him leave because you couldn’t say what he needed to hear to stay.

My chest tightens, the weight of my own mistakes mixed with the lack of oxygen. My heart racing with something I couldn’t tell if was desperation or a panic attack

I glance at the departure board. Flight 238. LAX to JFK, already boarding.

My stomach twists into knots as the words flash on the screen.

He’s leaving. He’s really leaving.

I weave through the throngs of people, scanning every face, every figure.

None of them are his.

My chest aches with every breath, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in my soul. The memory of his face before he left keeps playing in my head like a broken record.

The resignation. The quiet heartbreak. The way his shoulders sagged as if carrying the weight of every unspoken word between us.

I didn’t think it would hurt this much. I didn’t think I’d miss him before he even left.

But I do.

I miss him more than I thought I could.

“Can’t or won’t?”

The way he said it still cuts deeper than I expected, the pain raw and unyielding.

“The difference is everything, Y/n.”

He was right. The difference is everything. And I chose wrong. I chose fear. I chose safety.

But none of that feels safe now. Not when every breath feels like it’s crushing me. Not when the thought of him leaving makes me feel like I’m suffocating.

My mind is a battlefield of fear and hope, every thought slamming into me with relentless force.

You can’t let him leave like this.

The thought of him on that plane, of losing him for good.

I fumble with my phone again, my vision blurring as I type out a message.

Y/n: Lewis, please. Just call me. I need to talk to you.

Y/n: I’m sorry. For everything. Just… please don’t leave like this.

The words stare back at me, mocking in their simplicity. I hate how weak they make me feel, how small.

But I hit send anyway. It’s the only thing I can do.

Minutes pass. Still nothing.

I make it back to the main terminal, scanning frantically for the gate. The flight number blinks mockingly at me.

Final boarding.

My stomach lurches. My sneakers slap against the polished floor as I break into a run. People turning to stare, but I don’t care.

I reach the VIP gate just as they announce the last call. My chest heaves as I lean against the counter, gasping for breath.

“Did the NYC flight just close?” I manage to ask. The attendant looks up, startled by my urgency.

“Yes, ma’am,” she says.

My heart leaps into my throat. “Lewis Hamilton,” I blurt. “Is he still here?”

She hesitates, her professional mask faltering for just a moment. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t disclose that information.”

But her hesitation is enough.

I spin on my heel, my pulse roaring in my ears. My eyes scanning the hallway from the private lounge, and then I see him.

Lewis.

He’s standing off to the side, his back to me, his carry-on slung over one shoulder, his phone nowhere in sight.

He looks calm, collected, every inch the man the world knows as Lewis Hamilton.

He’s waiting. For what, I don’t know. And for whom, I can only pray.

My breath catches, my chest tightening painfully.

Say something, Y/n.

But the words stick in my throat, my legs frozen in place. He looks so composed, so untouchable, and for a moment, the fear overwhelms me.

What if he doesn’t want to hear it? What if you’ve already ruined everything?

Then he starts to move, his long strides taking him closer to the gate.

No.

The realization slams into me like a freight train, and I stumble, my momentum faltering.

“I love you!”

The words burst out of me before I can stop them, my voice cracking under the strain of desperation. Raw and desperate, cutting through the noise of the terminal.

People turning to stare, the sound echoing in the space.

My heart skips a beat as his head turns, his eyes wide and filled with confusion. For a moment, he’s frozen, his carry-on slipping from his shoulder as if the weight of my confession is too much to bear.

I don’t wait for him to process it.

I run.

Security be damned, people be damned—nothing matters except getting to him.

“I love you, Lewis!” I scream again, my voice breaking on his name.

And then his eyes meet mine.

The distance between us shrinks, my steps faltering as I finally reach him. His eyes are wide, stunned, like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing.

And then time seems to stop.

“I have loved you for longer than I care to admit. I have not stopped loving you, even when I said I didn’t. Even when hating you was all I wanted.”

The words are spilling out now, unstoppable.

Within arm’s reach, I take a deep breath before continue, my chest heaving as I search his face. “Even when I was too scared to say it,” I whisper, my voice barely audible now. “Especially then.”

His eyes search mine, their intensity almost unbearable.

“Y/n…” he breathes, his voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

His gaze locks on mine, searching, waiting, giving me time to catch up to the enormity of what I’ve just done.

His hands hover near mine, hesitant, cautious, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he moves too quickly.

I don’t take his hand though.

I can’t.

I need so much more.

So, I reach for the back of his neck, my fingers caressing the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

His skin warm under my touch, grounding me in a way nothing else can.

His gaze flickers between my eyes and my mouth, his expression a mix of hope and disbelief.

“I love you” I whisper, the words finally spilling out like a confession. “I’ve always loved you.”

The air between us crackles with tension, the kind that pulls you in and refuses to let go.

And then, as if on instinct, his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me flush against him.

The kiss is everything and nothing like I expected.

It’s soft at first, tentative, like he’s testing the waters, but when I respond, it shifts.

It’s heat and longing and every unspoken word we never said, all wrapped up in his lips moving against mine.

His hands anchor me to him, one at the small of my back, the other on my jaw.

I can feel the stubble on his beard, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the salt of my tears.

It’s overwhelming, consuming, and I never want it to end.

When we finally pull apart, his forehead rests against mine, his breaths coming in uneven gasps that match my own.

“I can’t keep leaving you behind” he says, his voice rough with emotion.

“You won’t have to” I reply, my hands still cradling his face. “Not anymore.”

His eyes search mine, and for the first time, I see something I never thought I deserved—relief.

And love.

“I’m going to ruin your life, you know?!” I murmur against his lips, a shaky laugh escaping me.

He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes soft. “As long as you’re in it, I don’t care.” he whispers, his voice full of intent.

The sound of distant murmurs pulls us back to reality. People are staring now, phones raised, whispers spreading like wildfire.

Lewis glances around, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well,” he says, his tone dry, “now we really can’t go back on this.”

I laugh softly, resting my forehead against his. “No,” I whisper. “We can’t.”

Before I can say more, security approaches, their expressions a mix of exasperation and recognition. “Mr. Hamilton, Miss…” one of them starts, clearly trying to maintain professionalism despite the chaos.

Lewis tightens his hold on me, his smile turning playful. “Looks like we’re causing a scene.”

I can’t help but laugh, my heart feeling lighter than it has in weeks as he responds. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Come on,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of promise as we're scorted back to the vip lounge. “Let’s go figure this out”

And none of it matters.

But him.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not running away.

I’m running towards him.

Towards us.

"Okay, so I gotta ask," I say, glancing around the sleek but surprisingly compact space. “This is the glamorous life of an F1 WAG? I thought there’d be… I don’t know, more gold-plated chandeliers or something.”

Lewis snorts, looking up from the kitchenette where he’s fiddling with a cup of tea. “You were expecting a palace on wheels?” He saunters over, his grin equal parts amused and smug. “Sorry to disappoint, princess.”

I stretch out on the plush sofa—a truly luxurious thing to have in a motorhome, to be quite honest.

“Honestly? I thought I’d at least get a jacuzzi”

“Jacuzzi?” He raises an eyebrow, setting the tea down on the small table before climbing onto the sofa beside me. “You’ve got me. Isn’t that enough?”

I roll my eyes, but my smile betrays me. “Barely.”

“Barely, huh?” He leans over me, bracing himself on his elbows so that his body hovers just above mine.

His scent—clean, warm, and uniquely Lewis—envelops me, making the space feel small.

“You want out already?” he asks, his voice low, teasing, but with just enough vulnerability underneath to make my chest ache.

“Never,” I whisper, my fingers sliding up to tangle softly in his necklace. “You’re stuck with me now.”

His lips twitch, his eyes softening in that way that always undoes me. “Good.”

I pull him down, meeting him halfway for a kiss that’s slow and tender, the kind that feels like home.

His weight settles over me, grounding me, and for a moment, everything else fades—the race, the world outside, the chaos of the past few days.

It’s just us.

“You’re terrible at pretending you don’t want me, you know” he murmurs against my lips, his tone playful.

“I wasn’t pretending” I counter, though we both know it’s a lie. “I was… confused.”

“Confused,” he echoes, kissing the corner of my mouth. “You sure about that?”

I laugh softly, threading my fingers through his hair. “Positive. Now shut up and kiss me again, Hamilton.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

His lips crash into mine, and this time, there’s nothing slow about it.

It’s all heat and need, his hands finding my waist as he presses me further into the cushions.

And in a motorhome, surrounded by the hum of a f1 paddock outside, I finally realize something.

It doesn’t matter where we are—whether it’s a cramped motorhome, a five-star hotel, or the middle of an airport.

As long as it’s with him, it’s exactly where I’m meant to be.

My decision of a lifetime, one that after that day I'd make every day, over and over.

_____________________________________________________________

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[jude-duarte-wannabe]

boyfriend material

so to keep my formula one girlies satisfied and fueled, i put this together until i can get my non formula one requests finished, i was hoping to have them done by now but i keep getting called into work, i'm sorry my lovely's <3 i'm also working on another one of these for sir lewis hamilton titled husband material, it is based on my other smau series billion dollar baby.

pairing; charles leclerc x marceline bennett [original character]

blurb; this is a list of cute things boyfriend charles leclerc and his girlfriend marceline bennett do in my smau series that i'm working on called the broadway bug, this story features a original character but for your reading pleasure, i've used 'you' and 'y/n' in this little snippet <3

currently playing; monaco by mkto "i'll go wherever you go, chase you through the streets of monaco, i'll run wherever you are"

when it comes to your jobs;

you are a broadway actress and charles often finds himself just watching you hum the lyrics to a song you have to sing in a show or tap a beat on your thigh as you walk through the paddock together.

speaking of broadway, charles makes sure to go to every single show that he can, just like you try to make it to every single race that you can.

when at charles's races, you stay in the ferrari garage, your often caught on camera jumping up and down excitedly and screaming "that's my boy!" or "go baby!"

when charles got p1 in monaco and monza, you completely ignored the barriers and ran for him as soon as he was out of the car, he'd luckily gotten his helmet and balaclava off in time to catch you, pick you up and kiss you right there on the track.

charles gave you a necklace with his race number on it saying "i'm giving you my number until i can give you my last name".

charles didn't release his music too often but when he did you always made sure to listen to it on repeat.

you could spend hours just sitting and listening to charles play the piano, it was your safe place, just you and charles together in your own little world.

charles loved catching you humming a tune he'd played on the piano earlier in the day while you were brushing your teeth or making coffee, he loved the simple things you did.

no matter where you are in the world, you always make sure to support charles.

and one time when you were in rehearsals for a show and charles was off racing somewhere in the world, there was a moment with one of your co-stars that led to you posting a video on your instagram story that would soon go viral - it went something like this

"hey my little broadway bugs" you couldn't keep a straight face while talking to the camera "so i'm currently in rehearsals right now" you flipped the camera to show the theater stage and most of your co-stars just chilling before flipping it back to face you "but this one right here" one of your co-stars pops into the frame "this one just came sprinting across the stage screaming 'y/n! y/n!' and keep in mind i thought she was dying" you hold up a magazine for the camera to see "but she just wanted to show me this and god do i love her for it" you giggled.

just cute couple stuff;

when you two first started dating you loved to listen to charles talk, he could talk about anything and you'd listen, he eventually noticed and teased you by saying "the accent got to you, didn't it".

charles mum; pascale basically insisted that you call her maman when she saw how happy you made her boy.

when your out to dinner or at an event together, your feet eventually get sore from standing around in heels all night and so you eventually go barefoot and charles just wanders around carrying you heels.

you and charles call each other all kinds of nicknames with his favorites for you being; ma cherie [my darling], mon ange [my angel], mon coeur [my heart], ma meilleure moitie [my better half] and of course mon amor [my love].

your favorite nicknames for him are; mon joli garcon [my pretty boy] and mon nounours [my teddy bear].

in fact the very first time you ever called him mon joli garcon, he looked at you surprised and muttered "did you just call me pretty boy" and you merely corrected him before going about your day "correction.. your MY pretty boy".

charles also calls you baby but only ever when he's sleepy and you try to get out of bed early, he just reaches out to wrap his arm around you and pull you closer muttering "baby.. no.. you stay put" in his sleepy voice that drives you insane cause it's so cute and raspy.

and you guys are the kind of couple that after being intimate you pillow talk in french with charles mumbling "si jolie comme ça" [so pretty like this] as he tucks a strand of your messy hair behind your ear as you giggle against his chest.

charles calls you the best thing that's ever happened to him.

and this man blushes and has the biggest goofy smile on his face whenever someone says your name or an interviewer asks about you.

charles takes photo's galore of you and even some of the two of you together and shamelessly posts them on his instagram / instagram stories - like this.

you are the kind of girl that could eat pasta for every meal for the rest of your life, you love pasta so much that you and charles now have a saying where you say "your the pesto to my pasta" or he'll say "your the pasta to my pesto".

charles tried introducing you to new foods including foods from both french and monegasque cuisine like stuffed peppers which you were a fan of but when he tried to fed you escargot you freaked out, which led to arthur now having a video of you running away from charles who held a snail on the end of his fork while yelling "never! keep that nasty ass snail away from me!"

charles is also the kind of boyfriend that would memorize your coffee order.

he sends you this text or something similar to it whenever your in the same place as one another.

charles doesn't hide how badly he needs you, he'll just straight up tell you, he doesn't care if anyone sees the texts he sends you while he's horny, your texts to each other basically look like this all the time.

cute couple stuff involving your pets;

leo loves you more than he loves charles but he doesn't complain because coming home to see you snuggled up in his bed with leo curled up against your side just makes him melt.

your cat however absolutely hates charles with a passion and charles tries so hard to get your cat to like him but it never happens, all of your photo's with your cat; clementine look like this

all the photos you have of charles with clementine picture her practically begging you with her eyes to get him the hell away from her.

two of the most iconic moments of the charles and clementine feud was when they first met.

it was charles first time in your apartment and while he knew you had a cat, she was no where to be seen at the moment, you and charles were standing in your kitchen leaning against the marble island, hands linked and resting on the bench as you talked, charles had leaned in to kiss you which you gladly excepted, lips locking with his in a soft kiss.. you loved kissing him and he loved kissing you even more but unfortunately he had to pull away with a hiss, seeing your cat on the counter having appeared out of thin air "she just bit me" he complained and while you kissed his hand better she simply hissed at him before running off.

and the other was when in the you two were in the heat of the moment, clementine just had to cock block him.

the temperature in your room was hot with your body pressed against charles's with your lips locked in a sloppy kiss, your kisses began moving down his neck, you loved to hear the whimpers that escaped him whenever you kissed at the soft spot behind his ear but that didn't happen instead you heard him mumble "i can't do this.. not with her watching" you didn't understand what he was talking about until you followed his gaze and what you saw had you laughing until there were tears in your eyes and you held your sides in pain "ouchy.. stitch" you complained to which charles simply responded "serves you right" the memory of clementines face and the side eye she gave charles still makes you laugh today.

cuddles, kisses and hand holding;

charles's love language is 100% physical touch at least i think so, this boy loves cuddles and there is only really one form of cuddle this boy will ever settle for and it's the one where he can lay in your arms, head pressed to your chest listening to your heartbeat as you run your fingers through his hair.

cuddles like those are his favorite especially when he's had a long day racing or has been away from you for weeks.

he's also notorious for falling asleep in your arms when you cuddle like this.

but he's also one for simplistic intimacy like when your together in the paddock, in line at the supermarket or just stationary while talking to friends, his arms are wrapped around your waist and his head is tucked into your neck.

and when it comes to falling asleep or even just napping, he is the little spoon mostly cause he just likes having you hold him and partly because he just feels safe whenever you fall asleep together like this.

and don't even get me started on the kisses that this man would give you; forehead, cheek, neck, belly, thighs or lips, if you name it he'll kiss it, charles loves kissing you and you love kissing him.

there was moment when you were doing an interview for with the cast of hamilton over zoom and this boy while you were in the middle of answering a question found that he couldn't stop staring at your lips so he just walked up to you, grabbed your face in his hand and kissed you, it lasted about 10 seconds before he pulled back and walked off, leaving you dumbstruck and just staring at your laptop screen unsure of what to say.

there was another moment when you said goodbye to him about ten minutes before a race and gave him his good luck kiss but when you went to walk away, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back to him mumbling "where you going, we're not done yet" before kissing you again.

charles would smile against your lips while you kiss

your favorite way to wake charles up is by kissing him, you start peppering kisses up his and across his shoulders, moving up his neck, across his cheek and then finally connecting your lip to his and while it may take a few minutes, he'd eventually wake and roll over so your trapped beneath him unable to escape his kisses.

being trapped like that often leads to his hands wandering up your sides and despite knowing that you were ticklish, he loves hearing you giggle.

your giggle is one of charles favorite sounds in the world and so he often just attacks you with tickles "give me a minute, i need to tickle the shit out of you".

whenever you two walk together, he's always holding your hand and leading you safely through the paddock or big crowds of people, especially paparazzi.

or if your just out and about you'll walk with your ring fingers wrapped around eachothers.

you'd somehow convinced charles to get matching tattoo's, just small ones on your ring fingers and that's pretty much why they are always linked when you walk.

eventually when he proposes you add to those tattoo's by getting another set of matching ones.

they are in his color too.

you two don't fight often but when you do, it's normally over something small and insignificant.

but when it does happen you get banished to the backseat of the car while carlos sits in your seat as passenger princess.

but within five minutes charles had forgotten all about it and reaches back to hold your hand, it's his way of saying i'm sorry.

time to get down and dirty;

a turn on for you is when charles stretches his arms above his head causing his shirt to raise and it gives you the most beautiful peek at his chest and v-line, he also lets out a little moan every time he does it. [can you imagine it... like my god!]

this boy doesn't believe in quickies unless he gets to eat you out, this boy just lives for it, he'll drop to his knees just about anywhere; your apartment kitchen, his drivers room, a club bathroom... literally anywhere.

both you and charles have praise kinks, he loves hearing you whisper "un si bon garçon" [such a good boy] in his ear and you live to hear him whisper "c'est ma gentille fille" [that's my good girl] while he thrusts in and out of you like a rabbit in heat.

this boy whimpers when the pleasure gets to much.

and when you decide to be naughty and not listen to his instructions, those whimpers turn to growling demands.

you and charles had decided that kids were something you both wanted and so when he gets you pregnant after like two tries, he's fucking proud, walking around wearing a cocky little smirk on his pretty face.

and to finish it off; instagram stories

just a few instagram stories you've posted of your beautiful boyfriend and his responses to them.

charlesleclerc; do you enjoy embarrassing me y/n.on.stage; fuck yeah i do, it's my job charlesleclerc; since when? y/n.on.stage; since the day you asked me to be your girl, you did this to yourself joli garcon charlesleclerc; god dammit

charlesleclerc; your not going to get one amor y/n.on.stage; and your not getting head tonight, win or no win charlesleclerc; baby i'm sorry let me explain *read* charlesleclerc; baby please y/n.on.stage; too late leclerc charlesleclerc; not the last name.. baby i'm sorry! y/n.on.stage; the number your trying to reach is currently unavailable

charlesleclerc; always mon ange <3 y/n.on.stage; you say that but there's still no ring on this finger charlie

charlesleclerc; baby you can't post shit like this, my mother follows you! charlesleclerc; but yes, you can have them y/n.on.stage; correct answer leclerc

leclerc_pascale; grandchildren? y/n.on.stage; working on it leclerc_pascale; that's my girl

charlesleclerc; BABY! where are you.. y/n.on.stage; you'll never find me.. hehe charlesleclerc; *view attached photo* charlesleclerc; you were saying y/n.on.stage; FUCK!.. i wanted to scare you.. once i was finished with lunch charlesleclerc; can i have a bite? y/n.on.stage; no

charlesleclerc; my eyes will always find you mon ange for you are the most beautiful thing they have ever seen y/n.on.stage; you want head? your drivers room in ten charlesleclerc; i'll be there in five y/n.on.stage; god i love you <3

a/n; so..... it was a bit more than a snippet but i was having to much fun to stop, can't wait to start officially writing this series <3

[caesium-55]

Lewis just wants to sleep. He's tired. He just arrived yesterday from Las Vegas and he needs to grant himself a lazy day or else, he'll go insane. He already planned out a perfect morning. You, on the bed with him in the most innocent sense—Lewis wouldn't mind sex because sex is nice and all but he also loved just resting with you and basking in your existence and your being—freely drifting in and out of the realm of sleep, no annoying alarm waiting to ruin his morning with that god-awful buzzing nose, basking in the silence and peace of a morning in the quiet part of Monaco, and letting the hours pass by without care. Then, when you both get sick of the sheets, you go down and grab breakfast in that café just across the building that sells amazing crepes.

But he wakes up and your side of the bed is cold and empty and panic sinks in his system quickly. He glances around the room. Sunlight peeks through the tiny gap of the black out curtains in the window. Besides the night lamp, it's the only source of light in the room. Your phone is not on the bedside table, Lewis notes. That means you slipped away from the bed and left the room some time ago without Lewis noticing. Usually, he'd feel it if you even just twitched and he'd wake up in a heartbeat, but the jet lag and the exhaustion that engulfed his entire body must have stopped him from doing so.

He sits up and rubs his face with his palms. He decides to follow after you downstairs.

The door abruptly opens with a loud bang, making Lewis flinch and turn his head towards. Lewis's face transitions from sleepy to shocked to confused.

You're wearing a gown that greatly resembles the type of gowns that the female cast of Netflix's Bridgerton wore in the show. It's a mixture of lilac and pink, both are pretty colors. Your hair is fixed into an elegant half-do with a plastic tiara to complete everything. On one hand, you carry a portable Bluetooth speaker. In the other, a microphone. You sport the most serious facial expression in the universe but nothing about you screams seriousness at all. Especially not with the funky-shaped eyeglasses that sit on the bridge of your nose.

You slam your hand against the light switch next to the door and the entire room brightens. Lewis chuckles at the sight of you, eyes twinkling with mirth. The room never feels more alive than it does now.

"Ta-da."

"Good morning, baby."

The intro of the song starts blaring through the speaker. A strong beat of drums. Then, you began to sing.

“After the war I went back to New York

A-after the war I went back to New York

I finished up my studies and I practiced law

I practiced law, Lewis worked next door—"

"Baby, you practice medicine—"

"Even though we started at the very same time

Lewis Hamilton began to climb

How to account for his rise to the top?"

You point the mic towards him. Lewis smiles and shrugs his shoulders.

"Man, the man is non-stop."

Lewis chuckles, amused. You are getting into it. You put your mic on your mouth again.

"Gentlemen of the jury, I'm curious, bear with me

Are you aware that we're making hist'ry?

This is the first murder trial of our brand-new nation

The liberty behind deliberation (Non-stop!)

I intend to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt

With my assistant counsel

Co-counsel—"

Lewis tries to leave the sheets so he can get his phone and capture you in video. You stop him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Hamilton, sit down."

"I'm sat."

You begin pacing around the room, hands waving around in theatrical fluorish.

"Our client Levi Weeks is innocent

Call your first witness

That's all you had to say

Okay

One more thing–"

You walk up to him and Lewis waits for your next move.

"Why do you assume you're the fastest in the room?"

"Because I am?"

"Why do you assume you're the fastest in the room?

Why do you assume you're the fastest in the room?

Soon that attitude may be your doom!"

Lewis shakes his head at you.

"Why do you drive like you're running out of time?

Drive day and night like you're running out of time?

Every day you fight, like you're running out of time

Keep on fighting, in the meantime."

Your number ends with you doing a dramatic pose and Lewis bursts out laughing, the sound mixing with the fading music.

"I love you so much. You have no idea."

This is far from the ideal morning he's planned out. This is not quiet. This is not peaceful. This is boisterous and obnoxious and too much energy so early in the day and every bone in Lewis's body still screams exhaustion.

But Lewis wouldn't trade this morning over the peaceful morning in his mind. Not when you looked so happy singing and rapping that Hamilton song. You theater nerd. God, Lewis didn't know he was physically capable of loving a person this much.

"Hey baby, if we get a son, can we name him Alexander?"

"Whatever you want."

Lewis wishes this morning will never end.

[stormberry-12]

faceless // P4: are you ugly? ~ charles leclerc x reader

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!driver!reader

includes/authors notes: language, lack of equal rights/ gender equality, readers an unknown figure in the races, fem!reader's gender assumed as male, use of "y/n".

Bold Italics are the past.

Normal Italics are thoughts.

summary: "There is a new mysterious driver on the grid. Nobody knows who he is, the only thing we know is that he races for Red Bull with the number 66. Other drivers call him the faceless driver for none have ever seen his face or heard him speak. The faceless driver is a legend in the making and even giving Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen a run for their money…”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sat alone in a medical room, sure you had wanted to reveal your identity eventually but this was too much to handle all in one day. You could sense the awkwardness of the doctors who had come to perform tests on you, they were polite but curt. A nice nurse offered you some tissues but no one uttered more than 5 words to you, probably still processing it themselves.

You pulled out your phone, there was no doubt Charles knew, he was out of his car even before you were, probably watching televised on hundreds of screens around him. 

He hadn't tried to contact you. 

You didn't blame him.

However, you did have hundreds of notifications from other people and F1 Instagram pages tagging your private account and spreading the news worldwide.

A knock on the door frame made you jump, "You're free to go miss, as long as you have no more neck pain."

"Thank you," you replied, not looking the doctor in the eyes, and climbing out of the bed.

"Take the pain meds twice a day, for your wrist and neck, don't over-exert yourself. Have a good day."

'Have a good day.'

You walked out of the medical center with your belongings, walking to the parking lot, not planning on going back to the Red Bull garage. You couldn't care less what Christian thought about this whole thing and would probably receive a very heavily worded email from him later tonight.

The sky was dark, you must have been in there for a while. The lights from the posts shone down on the many expensive cars that the drivers had driven to the race.

Charles's car was gone.

"Fuck me," you cursed, the tears had returned along with shooting pain up the side of your neck. You called an Uber, waiting in the crisp air and wiping the tears off your face. The world seemed wobbly as you scanned your surroundings, letting reality hit harder and harder every time you thought about the day you just had.

You looked across the parking lot to see Yuki getting into his car. He shot you a small smile and wave. "Fuck is a fun word. And you have a cool helmet by the way,"

"YUKIII!" Pierre screamed, running over to the car drawing both of your attention. "I'm driving,"

"No!"

"Yes."

They argued for about 20 seconds before Yuki hopped in the passenger seat. Pierre then noticed you, giving you a thumbs up and a knowing smile before hopping in the car.

God, word spread fast. 

You and Charles settled onto the couch, cozy blankets draped over your laps, snuggled up next to each other. Tonight's choice? The Office. It was a show you both adored, somehow whenever you watched it it always managed to lift your spirit. With a bowl of popcorn between your legs, you hit play, and the familiar theme song filled the room. You nestled into Charles's side, feeling the comforting warmth of his presence.

"Guess what, I have flaws. What are they? Oh, I don't know. I sing in the shower. Sometimes I spend too much time volunteering. Occasionally I'll hit somebody with my car. So sue me." Michael Scott's voice rang from the speakers.

"Oh my god," Charles chuckled. "I can't with this show,"

As the credits rolled, you turned to Charles, a contented smile playing on his lips. "I love nights like this," you whispered.

"Me too," Charles replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Especially when I'm with you."

The door to your apartment creaked as you opened it slowly, the hum of the airconditioning filled your ears and and hit you with a cold blast that sent shivers down your spine. You tossed your backpack on the floor and braced yourself for all of the outcomes that could happen next.

'What if he breaks up with me?' Flashed in the back of your mind as one of the possibilities that made your stomach ache. He was sitting on the couch, gaze not leaving the TV, but you could see his shoulders tense as your footsteps entered the room.

"Charles, we need to talk," you said softly, your voice barely audible over the blasting TV and loud voices outside the thin wall. 

He ignored you coldly, grabbing his plate off the side table and walking towards the kitchen. 

"Oh come on, Charles! Jesus, listen to me, I can explain!" you cried, following him around the apartment until he finally turned to face you, his eyes were broken. 

"Explain..."

"Yes-"

"Explain? You've been racing alongside me all this time, pretending to be just another driver, while I've been completely in the dark about who you are! You lied to me!" he spoke, voice cracking and eyes watering.

"Charles I-"

"Like holy shit!" Charles's voice trembled as he continued to word vomit his feelings like he always did. "You were the faceless driver. The one everyone speculated about, and-"

"Charles, I didn't want to lie to you. I just... I never wanted my identity to overshadow my abilities on the track. I wanted to be known for my skill, not my gender or boyfriend's name." You sighed heavily, hands trembling slightly, head pounding.

"You didn't think I deserved to know? We're in a relationship, Y/n. We're supposed to trust each other!" Charles's voice grew louder, his words cutting through the air, making you feel small.

"It was in my contract Charles, I couldn't tell anyone-"

"Why would you sign your life away like that? Red Bull was taking advantage of you but you were too stupid and blinded by all the secrets you had to keep-" he hissed.

"Oh my god! Why are you being such a dick? I came up with half my contract rules, I didn't want to tell anybody!" you held your neck as it ached.

"You told Lando,"

"No, I didn't. I never meant for him to find out!" you yelled, well tried to, as you found it harder and harder to catch your breath. "And do not bring Lando into this, he's your teammate and friend-"

"But he knew before I did! He kept secrets from me too," he complained. "And you had your little waves out on track and everything, don't bring Lando into this my ass. I hate how you realized you could trust him but couldn't think of anyone else in your life that you might be able to trust. Someone who might deserve to know. Was there no one else Y/n? No one else that you spent hours of the day with, that had trusted you with all of his problems? No one that loved you so much and would support you no matter what-"

"Charles-" you choked out, guilt overtaking you.

"This is so wild, I can't believe this day is real," he mumbled and you weren't sure if he was referencing the fact that you were a driver or the fact that you had left him in the dark and damaged the strong relationship you had. Probably both.

You sighed and rubbed a hand over your face, you felt like you were going to puke. You pushed past Charles and shuffled to the bathroom slamming the door behind you. You heard Charles call after you but his words were drowned out by the pounding and ringing in your ears. 

As you leaned over the toilet vomiting you felt your hair being pulled away from your face and a hand placed firmly on your back. You knelt there for a while, his fingertips traced up and down your spine until you pulled away to splash your face with water.

You slid back down to the floor leaning against the sink. You hugged your knees to your chest, not wanting to feel the cold tiles on the back of your legs any longer, as your boyfriend sat across from you quietly. Charles hesitated, his eyes locked with yours. The weight of the words you yelled at each other hung heavy in the air. His foot grazed yours softly and you both looked down at your matching socks that you un-intentionally wore on the same day.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

"Yeah. They told me I didn't have a concussion..."

"That's bullshit. And the wrist?"

You looked down at your bandaged hand, "Sprained."

He hummed in acknowledgment, "They did a shit job at that too, can a re-wrap it for you?"

You nodded and he skooted closer, taking your arm gently in his hands. He unwrapped the tenser bandage around your wrist and you winced, Charles whispered an apology, examining your bruises and swelling.

"Jesus, love," he wrapped the bandage around you once more, neat and tidy, securing it tightly. He looked up meeting your eyes with an unreadable expression, fingers still grazing your bandaged wrist. "Lando had more than one secret he was keeping from me,"

"What?" you croaked.

Charles closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face, "He's leaving. His contract was only for a year to try out a new team..."

You stared at Charles in shock before he continued. "He misses Mclaren, and of course Zack misses him. So yeah," Charles laughed but no humor filled his face, "I'll be saying goodbye to yet another awesome teammate that I've considered a brother."

"I'm so sorry Charlie," you whispered, linking your hand with his. You knew how hard it was for him when Carlos left, they didn't speak as much anymore, and you could always see the pain in Charles' eyes whenever Carlos brushed him off with a rushed wave in the paddock.

"God, I've got to stop being so sensitive and annoying," He sighed.

"No, your empathy, understanding, and awareness are some of my favorite things about you," you smiled softly at his blush.

"But I wasn't very understanding to you," he whispered and you felt your heart pinch.

You were about to respond, countering his statement with the truth that you were so terribly sorry and pissed at yourself for everything, when your phone rang pulling you from the moment. Looking down at the screen you stared at Christian Horner's name as it buzzed.

previous part // next part

[dragoninahumancostume]

85 things I love in Hamilton:

When a line of a song repeats on another song but slightly different or the exact same in a slightly different context or the exact same with the same context ("Look around look around" by Eliza vs by Alex, "I'm helpless" in Helpless vs Non-stop vs Say no to this)

The way it sounds like Lin is spitting on the P's in "My time's uP, wise uP, eyes uP"

How everyone agrees that Lafayette let his hair loose after Yorktown and that if he put it on a ponytail again Hamilton would react the same way Doofenschmirtz does with Perry and his hat

Everyone seems to agree Laurens should go running to be with Angelica, Eliza and Maria when they sing "Me? I loved him"

Daveed Diggs

The historical inaccuracy making songs even better (example: "How the sausage gets made" sung in 1790's when sausages were brought in the 1800's. Philip dying before the election of 1800 and in July when he actually died in November of 1801. Burr being Charles' second.)

Being able to tell which song is which even when they start off the same (alexander hamilton, guns and ships and winter's ball) by slight differences

"Can we agree that duels are dumb and immature?" *sends a letter wanting to duel* "All he had to do was die. We ought give it a try." *kills Alex*

"I was chosen for the constitutional convention! :D"

Aaron's voice and expressions

"Wheeeee!" -Charles Lee

Animatics vs The actual musical (example: the king dancing in the animatic, him standing with a death stare in the musical)

Hamilton being happy he finally has friends

The dance in My Shot

Lafayette and Hercules dancing

Hercules showing off his pants

Lafayette flexing his muscles

John Laurens screaming passionately in the "shout it from the rooftops" part

Angelica's voice and expressions

John looking like he's checking Ham out

The difference between the musical and the studio recording, specifically the pauses that for me sound like they're trying to regain some breath to continue singing

Hercules as the flower girl

The foreshadowing (?) ("I may not live to see our glory" *dies*/ *doesn't count to ten in French* *dies because his opponent didn't count to ten*)

Peggy getting distracted by John in Schuyler Sisters

"my dog speaks more eloquently than thee"

"You don't have the votes ha-ha-ha"

Ham stopping his dance and fixing his jacket when Philip enters in Helpless

King George literally spitting in You'll be back

*Philip dies, Ham is mourning* "Can we get back to politics 🙄. Who you gon' vote for?"

When they're waiting for their turn on the song (Ham behind the king before Right Hand Man. John and Laf on the stairs behind Washington in "Your excellency, sir")

Washington's voice

The backup dancers they're literally so good

Ham: making a plan. Hercules: BRAH

Ham pushing Laf away so he could talk with Angelica

HAMILTON WROTE THE OTHER 51

[mirrorball-leclerc]

karma is the guy on the track

series masterlist

fernando alonso the last time we did max almost ended up in american prison.

max jones-verstappen well that guy should've kept his hands to himself.

zoya torres wait, what happened last time?

isabella perez oh, max punched some dickhead who didn't know what no was. oscar piastri what she forgot to mention was that the guy tried groping her and then penelope. zoya torres yeah, i would've punched him too.

sebastian vettel no inchidents this time please

charles leclerc seb, let it go!

lewis hamilton someone's getting arrested this time

logan sargeant probably max or daniel.

daniel jones-ricciardo i would argue against that but i, too, would throw hands to protect one of the girls. max jones-verstappen i would do it again.

zoya torres wait, where was carlos during all of this?

carlos sainz i was trying to stop charles and pierre from running into traffic. pierre gasly see, it's best i don't remember what happened that night. charles leclerc i second that.

mick schumacher who's posting bail if one of us gets arrested?

lewis hamilton seb, nando, and i got each other covered.

max jones-verstappen i say the people dating bail each other out.

natalia ruiz i agree.

oscar piastri i hope logan gets arrested.

logan sargeant fuck you, what did i do? oscar piastri YOU PUSHED ME IN THE OCEAN AFTER MONACO DICK! logan sargeant i forgot i did that oscar piastri WELL I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ASSHOLE!

rowan todd this is my official petition to get is it over now as a surprise song

isabella perez OH I SECOND THAT! daphne jones-ricciardo noted.

daniel jones-ricciardo i vote endgame as a surprise song

lewis hamilton i knew the nonsense outros were unhinged but oh my god, they caught me so off guard.

isabella perez can't wait to show christian the videos

max jones-verstappen i literally hate you so much freya vettel that's a fucking lie and we all know it.

natalia ruiz i agree, you've grown attached to her

max jones-verstappen she's like mold.

daphne jones-ricciardo glad to announce that no one got arrested.

mick schumacher we're saving it for vegas

lando norris the things i do for you people.

esteban ocon get over it muppet, we'll still celebrate your birthday in vegas lando norris good, the jetlang is about to be insane.

carlos sainz you're the one who wants to fly to vegas to have a party there for your birthday! this is your fault

lando norris blah blah. you're just old

sebastian vettel i hope you all enjoy vegas, but i won't be going.

lando norris BUT IT'S MY BIRTHDAY! sebastian vettel i know, i gave lewis your gift. would've given it to bailey but i know you would want to snoop through her things.

bailey winters it's true. last year i hid his gift in my luggage and he found it.

lando norris i'm a snooper, what can i say.

fernando alonso this is official petition for rowan and pierre to NOT get married again!!

pierre gasly you people never let anything go

rowan todd okay, it was one time. it's not like we're going to do it again.

mae jones-verstappen seb, you have to be at vegas!

sebastian vettel and why would i mae?

max jones-verstappen i regret to inform everyone that mae want to have a party in vegas and announce our marriage by hosting a fake wedding. and since seb officiated the monaco wedding, he has to be there for vegas.

arthur leclerc at least someone is going to do a vegas wedding right

pierre gasly you know what little leclerc? dulce perez i will run you over french fry. pierre gasly nevermind

sebastian vettel fine. but only because i like mae.

mae jones-verstappen VICTORY!

fernando alonso he's going to regret this so much.

lewis hamilton at least jenson will stop complaining about not being invited.

fernando alonso oscar can invite the other half of multi-21 sebastian vettel LET IT GO ALREADY!! fernando alonso NEVER!

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @Smnthnclj @dan3avocado @melissayalene @nothanqks @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @chezmardybum @d3kstar@weekendlusting@anytimeanywherebitchblog @ragioniera @burberryfilms @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! anyways, we're ignoring the rumors because mentally i can't take any more silly season right now. i am choosing to ignore the rumors and believe alex is moving to ferrari in 2025. delulu is truly the solulu on this blog.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[unbizzarre]

Telemachus and Odysseus (animated)

Boop! :D

They're so pleased with each other's company, they could literally play this game for hours.

Creator's Note:

eeeeeeek! This was my first time ever trying to animate something! And it worked??? I thought animation would always be something that was too confusing and hard but now I've done it??? what?! I know its kinda scribbly and not the most beautiful thing to look at but, for a first attempt, I'm pretty over the moon about how it turned out. Beyond my wildest dreams 🥹

I hope you like it!

I have to go run around in circles and scream in sheer giddy glee at the new frontiers this day has unocked! >:))))! byeeeeeeee~

P.s.

The song playing in my head on repeat while making this was Hamilton’s “Dear Theodosia”. I know it’s not EPIC but it really fits the moment (specifically these bits)

My son, look at my son!

Pride is not the word I'm looking for

There is so much more inside me now

//

My son

When you smile, I fall apart

And I thought I was so smart

//

My father wasn't around (my father wasn't around)

I swear that I'll be around for you…. 😬…

I'll do whatever it takes (I'll make a million mistakes)

I'll make the world safe and sound for you

But anyways I don’t know how to add sounds to stuff yet, so uh, maybe next time

[anti-dazai-blog]

miniseries-- BSD Characters as Musicals

see rules for what musicals qualify for this

this is not meant to be taken too seriously. this miniseries is mostly a joke. ha ha.

PART 1-- ADA

Atsushi -- Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat

why? -- everyone really do be jealous of this guy for being the Specialist Little Guy. and for being Dazai's "favorite." and they keep beating him up for it.

--

Dazai -- Into The Woods

why? -- I'm not saying this from an anti-dazai lens. I just really think he'd resonate with Last Midnight. the whole "you're so nice. you're not good, you're not bad, you're just nice. I'm not good, I'm not bad, I'm just right."

ngl I always loved that song and also ngl but the witch is making some pretty good points 🤔

but also it applies equally to Fyodor so. it turns out that anything I wanted to assign Dazai would also work for Fyodor and vice versa.

--

Yosano -- Suffs

why? -- specifically this song, also very girlboss of her.

--

Kunikida -- Hamilton

why? -- I'm so sorry man it's 100% because of the work ethic this guy's got going on. my man really does write like he's running out of time.

--

Tanizaki -- Heathers

why? -- my guy is truly always on the verge of snapping. he's just got those vibes.

--

Naomi -- As You Like It

why? -- I feel like she'd like Rosalind. I also feel like both her and Rosalind are the type to do tiktok 'boyfriend tests' (the "would you love me if I was a worm" genre).

also-- second Shaina Taub musical mention and we're only in part 1. everyone go listen to literally any musical by Shaina Taub please and thank you.

--

Kenji -- Come From Away

why? -- It's the sense of community,, it's the themes of everyone helps everyone to get by. it's the we're a tiny town but we care for each other and we care for any travelers passing through. it's the You are a stranger but you are a friend and I'll help and protect you

yeah I think he's appreciate that.

--

Kyouka -- Matilda

why? -- You are a little girl in a big world and people are unfair to you. It's ok, you are strong. you can stand up for yourself. you can fight back. you can get a new family. found family > all else.

--

Ranpo -- Ride the Cyclone

why? -- season 1 Ranpo be like: WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS IS PEOPLE LIKE ME

people who aren't into ride the cyclone will probably argue that Ranpo's not this obnoxious. people who are into ride the cyclone will probably be ok with it because ultimately. Ocean's really not that bad

--

Katai-- Be More Chill

why? -- look it's the tech musical and he's the tech guy. I'm not gonna bother justifying it past that

and yeah it does feel very 2016 to put BMC Hamilton and Heathers in the same post. deeply sorry if that traumatized anyone. I already assigned musicals to everyone and this is just how it fell out.

---

PART 2 coming idk later or something. coming at some point in the future.

[madschiavelique]

As someone who hates musicals I recently became a hamilton fan which has been a shock to everyone , and I now need to know what would the acoi characters favourite musicals be if they were to have one ?

Feel free to completely ignore this stupid ask lmao

-🦇

omg hi batnony!!! sorry this took so long but classes got my ass URGH

okay SO. i'm not and let me stress NOT a fan of musicals myself, so my répertoire is not that thick, BUT i shall try and assign a musical to each chars

reader :

Moulin Rouge - I literally cannot envision a better musical for her. Trying to get through that industry to do something better, no matter the price, and trying to just not fall in love because it could ruin both her career and her life (and she loves the angst of an ending that isn't happy - dw it won't be her ending though)

her fav songs are definitely El Tango De Roxanne, Children Of The Revolution, and Hindi Sad Diamonds

viktor :

Hamilton - oh yeah. yes we are doing this. Sorry not sorry but i literally cannot think of anything else ESPECIALLY when i keep thinking of Viktor when I hear "How do you write like you're Running out time? Write day and night like you're Running out time? Every day you fight like you're Running out time Like you're Running out time / Are you running out time? How do you write like tomorrow won't arrive? How do you write like you need it to survive? How do you write every second you're alive Every second you're alive Every second you're alive"

sky :

The Wiz (1978) - not The Wizard Of Oz, The Wiz. she starts singing Ease On Down The Road when she leaves the appartment in the morning and Soon As I Get Home when the classes are over

jayce :

Epic - you heard me damn right. That hoe pictures himself as Odysseus and violently CRIES for certain songs okay ? he is LIVING it all. Penelope is his Mel and he deadass will start humming Would You Fall In Love With Me Again

eris :

The Phantom of the Opera - who tf is suprised ? Eris is that edgy girl that would have wanted to stay with the Phantom rather than the other twink, period. She is LIVING for the costumes and the overall ambiance of it and her soul ascends when the main theme starts playing with the organ and all

selene :

Hair - Listen, she sings Aquarius all the time and Let The Sunshine In. Plus she is anti-war and I could see this as the typical musical she watched and listened to when she was younger

not pulling tyler in this one bc he is a hoe

[godfrey-the-chaos-duck]

The Ducks Would Love Hamilton

In honour of me seeing Hamilton live tomorrow (!!!) here's some things a friend and I discussed last night about the DuckTales characters enjoying Hamilton.

• Fenton had a slight existential crisis when he was lucky enough to go to a show with the OG Broadway cast, because how in the hell does the guy playing Hamilton sound exactly like him (ooh, how very meta)

• Dewey's the first to discover Hamilton out of the family, and he does not shut up about it. Eventually everyone listens to the album, and while most of them seem to enjoy it, Dewey, Della and Webby are by far the most obsessed. Donald is not a fan, but gets dragged into the whole thing anyways.

• The kids use their dart guns for fake duels in the hallways. Scrooge not only allows this but encourages them (and also turns around so he can have deniability).

• Donald keeps getting woken up early by Della trying to learn the fast part of Guns And Ships. It takes her a while but she eventually gets there. 

• The next time Goldie comes over, someone (probably either Louie or Della) starts playing Say No To This over a Bluetooth speaker. Goldie, having never even heard of Hamilton before, is confused af, while Scrooge is blushing redder than his jacket.

• ^^ Because yes, as much as he hates admitting it, even Scrooge loves Hamilton. For starters, he's always admired the theatre (my hc is that he's a huge Shakespeare nerd since his youth). He also finds Hamilton's whole "determined immigrant" thing wildly relatable, and he also writes like he's running out of time. His favourite song is Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down) because y'know. Victory and all that.

• When it's announced that Hamilton is coming to Duckburg, everyone (understandably) flips out. Scrooge anticipates this, and buys tickets super early to guarantee the family gets good seats. It goes... Well, about the way you'd expect a night at the theatre with the Ducks to go.

• Everyone dresses to the absolute nines, even though it's not a particularly fancy venue - it's a big night for them all. Dewey, Della and Webby are actually in full cosplay, while Scrooge, Beakley, Huey, Louie, Launchpad and Donald (who was all but dragged there) are in fairly regular formalwear (the latter two are more along the lines of "business casual" but still).

• Everyone tries to keep a lid on their excitement so they don't get in trouble for singing along, and it kind of works.

• In the end, it's actually Scrooge that's the first to draw unwanted attention, for booing when King George enters to singYou'll Be Back. Something, something, historical hatred of the English monarchy runs deep for Clan McDuck.

• Because they don't wanna get kicked out of the Coolest Musical Ever To Exist (Webby's words), everyone just lip-syncs to the songs. This is exactly what I'm gonna be doing when I go, by the way.

• Webby cries during That Would Be Enough. Della cries in Dear Theodosia and Stay Alive Reprise (Donald even sheds a few tears during those songs, but he'll never admit it.) Everyone ends up a little emotional in Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story. 

• The car ride there (and back) was spent belting out the songs because they knew they couldn't in the theatre. Donald brought his headphones and sits in the back, resolutely listening to Nirvana or something. Am I adding this to the ever-lengthening list of fic ideas? Yeah. Is that a guarantee I'm actually gonna write it? Nope.

[azucar-skull]

Epic The Musical songs in a nutshell but I'm bad at explaining things

The Horse And The Infant - Surprise slumber party with the boys

Just A Man - YEET

Full Speed Ahead - That one Minecraft friend heading back to base after exploring for 14 hours

Open Arms - What I sing to myself while playing TLOU and blowing up people (not a joke--)

Warrior Of The Mind - How to slay and how to ✨️💅✨️ slay ✨️💅✨️

Polyphemus - Underage drinking

Survive - Me when I see an ant hill

Remember Them - Imagine doxxing yourself

My Goodbye - Fuck you Ody you are a waste of my time (get it? Cuz clock)

Storm - What I sing when there's even 1% precipitation

Luck Runs Out - Bro what the fuck

Keep Your Friends Close - I was expecting a man and then I saw boobs

Ruthlessness - The reason why I'm gay

Puppeteer - Girlboss

Wouldn't You Like - W E E D

Done For - What Sans sings before you fight him

There Are Other Ways - Every single fucking DnD bard ever

The Underworld - Oh we have trauma

No Longer You - Evil Kermit meme

Monster - Ody enters his emo phase

Suffering - Rolling high on deception but your opponent rolls nat 20 on stealth

Different Beast - Hamilton could never

Scylla - Didn't even try tequila

Mutiny - Tryna gentle parent my way outta this

Thunder Bringer - Misogyny

Legendary - Oh you poor sweet summer child

Little Wolf - Pretty sure this is against Greek hospitality code

We'll Be Fine - Making friendship bracelets for an owl

Love In Paradise - If Rapunzel was evil

God Games - Athena just constantly rolling for persuasion

Not Sorry For Loving You - 2012 breakup song

Dangerous - yuh get it Hermes

Charybdis - Sponge vs the sink drain as the water goes down

Get In The Water - Me to my dogs

Six Hundred Strike - Autotuned screaming

The Challenge - Queen being a queen

Hold Them Down - HUH?!?!?

Odysseus - Again, Hamilton could never

I Can't Help But Wonder - Cured my daddy issues

Would You Fall In Love With Me Again - 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[pickingupmymercedes]

Pretty please - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Pretty please - Dua Lipa - anon

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: smut

wordcount: +3k

a/n: sorry for the unreasonable expectations i'm setting on this one.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

I sat at my desk, the glow of my laptop casting a harsh light across the piles of papers and open notebooks. The emails kept coming, ping after relentless ping, demanding my attention.

My head ached, my shoulders were stiff, and it felt like the world was closing in on me one deadline at a time. But I had to handle it. I always did.

My phone buzzed on the edge of the table, and I glanced at the screen. Lewis, of course.

Hey, how’s your day going?

I ignored it, not because I didn’t care, but because I knew he’d hear the tension in my reply. And I couldn’t afford to be distracted—not when I still had so much to do.

He was supposed to be in LA, anyway, probably getting involved in some other whoe new industry or just soaking up the sun. You never knew with him.

I rubbed my temples, willing myself to focus. But my mind was running wild, thoughts ricocheting between what I’d done and what I still needed to do. My coffee had gone cold an hour ago, but I didn’t bother to make some more.

A knock sounded at the door, and I nearly jumped out of my chair. Maybe I’d ordered something and didn’t remember.

But then there was a second knock, this one heavier, more deliberate. I hesitated, irritation bubbling up. Who the hell was showing up unannounced?

I swung open the door and my breath caught in my chest. There he was—Lewis, standing on my hall, looking way too put together in his black hoodie and sweatpants, like he’d just casually dropped by.

His face broke into that familiar, infuriatingly warm smile, ready to break any of my resolves. “Hey, love.”

“What are you doing here?” My voice came out sharper than I intended, and I could see the slight arch of his brow. But he just tilted his head, slipping his hands into his pockets like he had all the time in the world.

“I had a feeling you might need some company.” His eyes scanned my face, lingering on the shadows under my eyes. I hated how he could read me so easily, even when I was doing my best to keep it together.

“I’m busy, Lewis. I don’t have time for—” I waved a hand vaguely, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation.

He stepped closer, almost inside the doorway, crowding my space in a way that made my pulse quicken. “You sure about that?” he asked, his voice low, almost teasing.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my thoughts in line. “You can’t just show up whenever you want, you know?. I have work, I have—”

He reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek, a light touch shut me up.

I hated how easily my body responded to him, how the heat of his hand on my skin made my mind go blank, even if just for a second.

“You’re doing it again” he murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw. “Where you pretend like you don’t need anyone, like you can handle everything on your own.” He took a step closer, his chest nearly brushing mine, and I had to fight the urge to lean into him.

“That’s because I can handle it” I snapped, my voice lacking the conviction though.

“Of course you can.” He said it like it was a given, like he wasn’t doubting my strength for a second.

But then he tilted his head, and the edge of his smile softened. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t take a break.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. It was like he’d found the one chink in my armor, the one place where my stubbornness couldn’t quite hold up against the exhaustion pressing down on me. He took another step, closing the distance between us, his hands sliding to my waist, steadying me.

“Thought so” he murmured, a trace of a smile in his voice, but there was a seriousness behind it too—like he knew just how much I needed this, even if I couldn’t admit it.

I hated how easily he could disarm me, how his presence was enough to make all the chaos in my head slow down, how he could give me the relief I craved.

And God, I wanted to let go, to stop fighting for just a little while.

Then I realized what I was doing and I pulled back, trying to regain my footing. “I can’t just drop everything because you showed up, Lewis,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.

God, even I could hear how unsteady I sounded, how much I was wavering.

His hands moved to cradle my face, tilting my chin up so I had to meet his eyes. “Y/n.” His voice was gentle, but there was a firmness to it too, like he wasn’t going to let me slip away this time.

I took a shaky breath. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the way he was looking at me, but suddenly all the fight went out of me, leaving behind only the aching need for someone to get my mind to shut up.

“Fine,” I said, the word coming out like a sigh, and his smile softened, turning almost tender. “But don’t think this means I’m—”

And his mouth was already pressing against mine in a kiss that stole the rest of my words. It was slow, deliberate, like he was taking his time, coaxing me out of my own head with every brush of his lips.

My hands slid up to his shoulders, gripping the soft fabric of his hoodie, and I couldn’t stop the way I melted into him, my body leaning into the solid strength of his.

His hands slid down to my waist, guiding me until we somehow ended up at my bedroom.

I felt my legs hit the edge of the bed and he eased me down, never breaking the kiss, and I let myself follow his lead, sinking into the mattress as he hovered over me, his weight pressing me down in a way that made my mind finally—blessedly—go quiet.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing a path down the side of my neck, and I couldn’t help the soft sound that escaped me, my hands threading through the hem of his hoodie as I arched into him.

His hands were everywhere—skimming down my sides, slipping beneath the hem of my shirt, fingers dancing over my skin.

“You’re tense, love,” he murmured against my skin, his breath warm and teasing. “Let me take care of you.”

And for once, I didn’t argue. I just let him touch me, let the sensation of his hands on my body drown out everything else—every deadline, every worry, every thought that had been keeping me awake at night.

His mouth found mine again, and this time, I kissed him back with everything I had, pouring all my pent-up frustration and longing into the press of my lips against his.

His hands found the edge of my shirt, and I lifted my arms, letting him pull it over my head. The cool air hit my skin, but then his naked torso was pressing down against mine, his warmth seeping into me, making everything else fade away.

“Just let go, Y/n,” he whispered against my ear, his voice rough and breathless. “I’ve got you.”

His lips roamed over my body like he could go on for hours, grazing the curve of my jaw, then lower, pressing soft kisses down the column of my neck. I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin, the way he was taking his time, savoring each reaction that slipped out of me.

‘Because, clearly, taking your time is necessary when you surprise someone mid-meltdown’ I thought, trying to hold onto the irritation that was fading with every kiss. I couldn't deny how good it felt, even if he was showing up unannounced to dismantle my well-established stress routine.

“Lewis...” I murmured; a half-hearted protest caught in my throat. He chuckled softly against my collarbone, a low, rumbling sound that made my toes curl.

His mouth moved lower, tracing a path across my collarbone, then down to the swell of my chest. He took his time, planting kisses across every inch of skin he could reach, his tongue flicking over the sensitive spot on my nipples.

My breath hitched, fingers tightening in his clothes, and he took it as encouragement, slipping out of his sweatpants, dragging out every moment until my thoughts began to unravel into the steady rhythm of his lips back on my skin.

“Relax, love,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper against the curve of my breast.

I wanted to argue, to tell him that I couldn’t just relax on command, but the words caught when he started to kiss his way down my stomach, his hands trailing behind, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He reached the waistband of my leggings, his fingers toying with the fabric, and he looked up at me, eyes dark and focused, a question hanging in the air between us. I bit my lip, nodding once, and he flashed me that cocky little smile.

“Good girl,” he said, the words getting me wetter than I already was.

Then he peeled my leggings down my legs, slow and steady, like he was unwrapping a gift. I squirmed beneath him but he just pinned me with a look, like he wanted me to see just how much he was savoring every moment.

Because, of course, he just has to show off how he’s got all this control, while I’m lying here barely hanging on. Typical.

His hands settled on my thighs, spreading them apart, and I could feel the heat pooling low. He kissed the inside of my knee, then moved lower, trailing his lips along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, making my breath hitch.

“Lew” I whispered, my voice shaky, but he just hummed in response, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin until he reached the heat of my core. He paused there; his breath warm against me.

Seriously, he’s really going to take his sweet time, isn’t he? I thought, want twisting inside me.

And then he finally leaned in, his mouth pressing against me in a way that made my back arch off the bed, a soft moan escaping my lips before I could bite it back. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, tasting every inch of me like he was committing it to memory, and I couldn’t help the way my hands fisted in the sheets.

He took his time, his hands gripping my thighs to hold me in place as he coaxed sounds out of me that I would be embarrassed to admit to. All I could focus on was the heat pooling low in my belly and the way his tongue was moving against me, driving me wild.

“Lew—oh my god,” I gasped, my head falling back against the pillow as his tongue flicked over my entrance, a finger making slow and round motions on my clit. My body trembled beneath him, walls clenching around his nothing as he held me in place, refusing to let up even when my legs began to shake.

“That’s it, love” he murmured against my skin, the words vibrating against me like they had the power to cloud my thoughts. “Let go for me.”

And then he doubled down, dragging his tongue across me with a precision that made my vision blur, sending me spiraling. I shattered around him, my body convulsing as he licked me through it, holding me steady.

When I finally came back down, my chest heaving with every shaky breath, he lifted his head, his lips and beard glistening, that smug grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Better now?” he asked, his voice rough, but a teasing glint in his eyes. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he whispered, “Think I got some of that tension out?”

I let out a breathless laugh, my hands tugging him back for a kiss, tasting myself on his lips. “Not even close,” I shot back, my voice needy, a hunger that I couldn’t ignore. “I need you, Lewis. Now.”

His expression shifted, the teasing edge melting into something more intense. He brushed a thumb over my lower lip, his eyes searching mine like he was making sure I meant it, and when he saw the fire still there, his smile turned wicked.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing” he murmured, but he was already shifting above me, his body pressing me deeper into the mattress as his hands roamed over my skin. I could feel him through his boxers, hot and hard against my thigh, and a frustrated whine slipped out of me before I could stop it.

“You’re taking too damn long.” I muttered, arching up my hips against him, trying to close the distance between us.

He chuckled, a low, rough sound with a warning note to it. “You think I’m going too slow, huh?” His hand slid to the small of my back, flipping me over in one smooth motion before I could protest.

My chest hit the mattress, my breath catching as he pressed down on my lower back, keeping me in place.

“I’m gonna make that mind go blank” he growled against my ear, his hands ridding his dick out of the fabric, his voice dark and commanding, a promise in every word. “Stop squirming and let me take care of you.”

And then he thrust into me, hard and deep, and every thought scattered from my mind like glass shattering. A choked moan ripped from my throat, my fingers scrambling for purchase on the sheets as he set a relentless pace, his hips snapping against mine with enough force to make the bed creak.

My world narrowed down to the feel of him inside me, stretching me, filling me, each thrust sending me forward until I was trembling beneath him, completely at his mercy.

His hands gripped my hips, holding me steady as he drove into me again and again, the sound of skin against skin mingling with our moans.

And just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, he pulled my back against his chest, his arm wrapping around my waist, and then in a smooth motion, he slipped out and flipped me onto my back.

My body felt like jelly beneath him, barely able to keep up with the shift, and my head spun.

He paused, leaning down to press a tender kiss to my lips. His movements slowed, and I could see something shift in his eyes—something that reached deeper than desire, like a vulnerability he wasn’t quite used to showing.

The rough edges of him softened, giving way to a quiet, unguarded expression that made my chest melt. My hand came up to touch his face, my thumb tracing the edge of his cheekbone, and for a moment, the world felt like it was holding its breath.

The intensity drained from his features, replaced by gentleness, almost pleading, like he wanted me to understand all the things he couldn’t put into words.

Missionary. It was a language to him.

When he shifted into it, when he wrapped me in his arms and let his weight settle against mine, I knew he was saying something beyond touch.

His gaze held mine as he pushed inside me again, his forehead brushing against mine, and I felt that unspoken promise in every slow thrust. ‘I’m here, I’m yours, I won’t let you face this alone.’

And it wasn’t just about the pleasure; it was about the way he made me feel seen, peeling back every layer of my defenses, like he was taking the time to memorize every reaction, every shuddering breath and half-broken moan that slipped out of me.

His hips rolled in a rhythm that was almost gentle, each thrust angled just right, hitting that spot inside me that made stars burst behind my eyelids. I clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders as I anchored myself against the tide of sensation that threatened to sweep me away.

“Baby” I breathed, my voice barely more than a whisper. I could feel the tenderness in every movement, the way he looked at me. It wasn’t just the sex—it was the way he felt, the way he made me feel.

His forehead pressed against mine, his breath mingling with mine as he kept that slow, steady pace. “Right here, love” he murmured, his voice low and rough, but there was a softness in it too, like he was letting me in on some kind of secret. “I’ve got you.”

I nodded, unable to form words, too caught up in the way his body moved against mine, how he fit against me. My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groaned, his control faltering for a moment as he buried himself inside me to the hilt.

I held onto him like a lifeline, my heart pounding in my chest each thrust sent a wave of warmth spreading through me, settling deep in my bones. And every time he hit that spot, the one that made me see white, his eyes would flicker to watch my reaction, a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Because of course he’s gotta make sure he’s doing it just right. Like he’s got some kind of checklist. Hit the spot, check. Make her breath hitch, check.

My thoughts slipped away into a haze of pleasure, my body arching against him, chasing that high that built with every roll of his hips. And just when it started to build, he slowed down, holding himself deep inside me, his forehead pressing against mine.

“Hey,” he rasped, his voice almost too soft to hear over the sound of my ragged breathing. “You good?”

I let out a breathless laugh, my hand reaching up to brush the sweat from his cheek.

Gosh, the question was so him, so perfectly Lewis, checking in right at the edge. My chest tightened with something achingly tender, something that made me want to kiss him until I ran out of breath.

“Yeah” I replied, and there was a hint of awe in my voice that I couldn’t quite hide. “You—God, I don’t know how you’re real sometimes.”

He chuckled, but there was a flush of heat creeping up at his chest, a slight falter in the confidence that he usually wore like a second skin.

And that look in his eyes—soft, vulnerable—made my heart clench, like he wasn’t used to hearing that, even after everything.

“Real enough to keep going, yeah?” he teased, his smile turning mischievous as he shifted his hips just enough to draw a gasp from me. His hand brushed over my chin, the pad of his thumb stroking along my jaw as he held my gaze. “Or you need a minute, love?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, even as the corner of my mouth twitched with a smile. “What happened to making my mind go blank?” I shot back, my voice still breathy but with a bite to it, trying to keep up my bravado even as my body thrummed with every slight movement.

He grinned, that cocky little smirk that made something tighten low in my belly. “Already did. This one will be for us.” he promised, his voice dipping into that dark, velvety tone that made my toes curl. “Just wanted to make sure you knew.”

Before I could fire back with something sarcastic, he angled his hips and thrust into me again, deeper this time, and the breath rushed out of my lungs in a sharp cry. My hands fisted in the sheets, clinging on for dear life as he started to move again, slow and deliberate again, like he was trying to draw every last bit of pleasure out of me.

And this time, there was no teasing. Just him, moving with a focus on my features that made my head spin, like he was determined to see me come apart in his arms. I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore, couldn’t keep up the front, my head tipping back against the pillow as the pleasure built again.

It was almost too much—I could feel myself starting to unravel, my body trembling beneath him. And through it all, he never took his eyes off me, watching every reaction like it was the only thing that mattered.

When I finally came, the ringing in my ears and the white in my vision was almost like passing out. The pleasure made my mind go completely blank, like he’d promised.

My fingers digging into his shoulders as I held on, and he was right there with me, slowing his movements to help me ride out the high, his lips brushing against my temple, murmuring soft reassurances that I couldn’t quite make out.

My body went limp beneath him, a boneless, breathless mess, and he kissed me softly, his lips lingering against mine like he didn’t want to let go. I could feel his heart racing against my chest, his breath warm against my skin.

“God, you’re stubborn,” he teased, his voice rough but affectionate, his thumb tracing lazy circles along my hip. “Can’t even let yourself relax for five minutes.”

I let out a tired laugh, still not fully back to form a coherent come back, pressing a lazy kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“You stay here and I’ll order some take out, I’m sure you haven’t eaten” He smiled, something soft and sweet in it, and then leaned in to kiss me again, properly this time, like he was sealing a promise.

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