#hamilton fic oneshots

[paddockletters]

secret's out | lewis hamilton smau

pairing: lewis hamilton x reader summary: lewis accidentally reveals his secret relationship with you in an instagram story, sparking fan frenzy. request: yes/ thank you so muchhhh! author’s note:hey anon, i really loved and enjoyed writing your idea! thanks for you request and hope you like it and and sorry it took me too long❤

lewishamilton

lewis' imessage

y/username

liked by lewishamilton, f1 and 2,467,095 others

yourusername: i guess our secret has been reveled bt none other than my husband...

comments...

georgerussell63: you guys definitely made that podium moment legendary. Wishing you both all the best! 💪🏼❤️

danielriccirado: You guys, first you hid your relationship and then your wedding and you didn't even invite us…. I'm hurt

user1: the fact that george is his teammate and he didn't even know that lewis was married 😭😭

user2: ok, we already knew that lewis was very private but this, THIS is another level

charles_leclerc: took you long enough, Lewis! Wishing you guys all the happiness! 🥳

user3: can we just appreciate the casual hard launch AND a kiss on the podium?? absolute power couple energy 💯

user4: he way Lewis looked at you during the podium 😍 He’s been in love the whole time!!

user5: he fact that Lewis called you his wife on his story and we all lost it 🤣🤣 Congrats on your not-so-secret love anymore!

y/username

liked by lewishamilton, f1 and 3,456,955 others

yourusername: this secret and announcement took us less time this last time

comments:

lewishamilton: Can’t wait to meet our little one. Over the moon with you, love

user6: BABY HAMILTON?! Oh my God, I’m crying. This is the cutest news ever!! 😭🍼

georgerussell63: Congratulations!! Can’t wait to meet the future world champ! 🍼🏆

landonorris: BABY HAMILTON??? Alright, I’m officially shook. Congrats, guys! The paddock just got a whole lot more fun! 😂❤️

user7: Lewis is gonna be a dad??? IM NOT OKAY!!! CONGRATS!! 🥺❤️

danielricciardo: A little racer on the way? YES! Can I be the fun uncle? 😎🍼

user8: A podium celebration baby??? 👀 Looks like we know how y’all celebrated that win! 🤭

user9: he timeline is connecting… podium celebration = baby Hamilton?? You sneaky lovebirds! 😂💛

charles_leclerc: Wow, huge congrats!! The grid’s about to get a little bigger 😄

user10: OMG this baby is about to be more stylish than all of us. Already living their best life before birth! 👶🏽✨

Lewis' podium

The energy in the paddock was electric as Lewis’s car crossed the finish line, securing him a spot on the podium for the first time in what felt like ages. I could barely contain my excitement as I watched from the sidelines, surrounded by a sea of cheering fans. The moment felt surreal, and my heart raced as Lewis climbed out of his car, a triumphant grin plastered across his face.

As he approached me, still wearing his helmet, I couldn't help but notice the way the crowd erupted in applause and shouts. The deafening cheers seemed to fade into the background as he got closer. “Honey, I’ve done it!!” he shouted, his voice slightly muffled but filled with uncontainable joy.

The adrenaline coursing through my veins made me feel invincible. I laughed, my heart swelling with pride as I reached up to remove his helmet. The instant his face came into view, I felt the warmth of his excitement radiate between us. The crowd’s energy shifted, anticipation crackling in the air as they sensed something special was about to happen.

Lewis leaned down, his eyes locked onto mine, and in that electric moment, he kissed me deeply, right there in front of everyone. The world around us disappeared; all I could feel was the warmth of his lips and the deafening roar of the crowd as they cheered for us.

From that day forward, we became the couple everyone adored. Fans began sharing videos and photos of the kiss, turning it into an iconic moment.

As the weeks passed, our relationship was the talk of the town. But it wasn't long before the news of our little family surprise came to light.

It was late, the dimmed lights in our living room casting soft shadows on the walls as I paced back and forth. The small plastic stick in my hand felt heavy, like it held the weight of the world. My heart pounded as I stared at the two pink lines that confirmed it—I was pregnant.

I had imagined this moment so many times, rehearsing how I would tell him, but now that it was real, my mind was a blur of emotions. Excitement, fear, happiness—everything at once.

Lewis had just gotten home from the gym, his usual easy smile lighting up his face as he stepped inside. He dropped his gym bag by the door, not yet noticing the turmoil in my eyes.

"Hey, love. Everything alright?" He asked, walking over to kiss me on the forehead, his hands automatically settling on my waist. But as he looked down at me, his brow furrowed in concern. He knew something was up.

I took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his hands on me, grounding me. "Lewis, I… I need to tell you something."

His eyes softened instantly, the worry easing away. He pulled me closer, concern still flickering in his gaze but now mixed with curiosity.

"You’re scaring me a bit, babe. What’s going on?"

I bit my lip, the words almost stuck in my throat. My heart raced as I reached for his hand, slipping the positive pregnancy test into his palm. He looked down at it, confusion crossing his face for a brief second before realization hit him like a wave.

His eyes widened, flicking from the test to me and back to the test again. "Wait… are you serious?"

I nodded, tears springing to my eyes as a nervous laugh escaped me. "Yes, Lewis. We’re going to have a baby."

For a moment, it was like time stood still. He stared at me, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. Then, without warning, he scooped me up into his arms, spinning me around as a wide, joyful laugh escaped him.

"Are you kidding me?!" He was grinning from ear to ear, his excitement so contagious I couldn’t help but giggle, too. "We’re having a baby?!"

"Yeah… we’re having a baby." I nodded, my heart swelling as I saw how happy he was.

Lewis set me down gently, but his arms stayed wrapped around me, his forehead resting against mine.

"I can’t believe this," he whispered, his voice full of awe. "You’re going to be the most amazing mom, you know that?"

"And you’re going to be the best dad. Our little one’s going to be so lucky." I smiled, feeling the butterflies in my stomach.

He pulled back slightly, looking into my eyes, his expression soft and full of love.

"This is the best news I could’ve ever imagined. I love you so much."

"I love you too," I whispered back, my voice catching with emotion.

Lewis placed a hand on my stomach, still grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. "Our little secret," he said, his voice hushed, as if speaking too loud would make it any less real.

As the initial shock and excitement settled in, Lewis and I spent the rest of the evening curled up on the couch, talking about everything that lay ahead. The glow in his eyes hadn’t dimmed one bit; if anything, it had grown brighter with every moment.

"I still can’t believe it," he whispered, running his fingers softly over my stomach. "We’re actually having a baby."

I laughed, leaning my head against his shoulder. "It’s real, Lewis. You’re going to be a dad."

"You know, now that I think about it, when do you reckon we… you know, made this little one?" A playful smirk spread across his face.

I rolled my eyes at his cheeky tone. "Really? That’s what you’re thinking about now?"

"Well," he chuckled, nudging me slightly. "It’s not every day you find out you're going to be a dad. I’m just curious." He paused, tilting his head as if considering the options. "I mean, we’ve been busy lately…"

I snorted, shaking my head. "Busy is an understatement. We travel all the time."

Suddenly, realization dawned on him. His eyes widened, and I saw the gears turning in his head. "Wait… what about Monaco? You remember? After that podium…"

I froze for a second, my mind flashing back to that night. The celebration had been wild—Lewis had just gotten his first podium in a while, and we were on cloud nine. The champagne, the excitement, the adrenaline… and later that night, when we finally got back to our home…

I fele my cheeks flush. "Oh my God, Lewis."

He grinned like a Cheshire cat, clearly putting it all together. "That’s when it happened, didn’t it? The night of the podium celebration! No wonder the timing makes sense."

I covered my face with my hands, laughing as the memory came flooding back. "I can’t believe this! You’re right. That’s when it happened."

Lewis burst out laughing, clearly delighted by the connection. "No wonder I felt so invincible that weekend. Turns out, we had a little extra reason to celebrate!"

I playfully swatted his arm, though I couldn’t stop laughing either. "We’ll never live this down, you know. People are going to figure it out, and the teasing is going to be relentless."

He shrugged, still grinning like a fool. "Let them talk. They can tease us all they want. As long as I’ve got you and this little one, I don’t care."

I smiled, leaning into him, feeling the warmth of his words. "You’re such a sap sometimes, you know that?"

He chuckled, kissing the top of my head. "Only for you, love."

As we sat there, wrapped in each other and in the realization of what was to come, I couldn’t help but think about how crazy our journey had been so far. And now, with a baby on the way, it was about to get even crazier. But with Lewis by my side, I knew we could handle anything—even the endless teasing from our friends and fans.

"Just wait until the guys hear about this," he said with a wink, already anticipating the chaos to come.

I rolled my eyes again but smiled. "Oh, I’m sure they’ll never let us forget it."

[pullupinarari]

Love you like you need [LH]

summary: you wake up feeling sick, and your daughter makes sure to boss your husband around so he can take good care of you.

• masterlist

wc: 3776 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

You wake up hating the fact that you opened your eyes, already. Your throat feels dry, your body is sore, your nose is clogged, making it impossible for you to breathe properly. Groaning, you can’t help but roll your eyes at the uncomfortable sensations erupting through you as you try to move your body, getting out of bed. 

It’s still early, the clock reads 8:12 am. And while your husband is in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, he hears your soft sniffles followed by the sound of you blowing your nose. Furrowing his eyebrows, the man soon leaves the restroom, only to find his wife sitting at the edge of your shared bed, taking some pills. 

Lewis is already fully dressed, ready to leave the house to attend some work meetings when he steps inside the bedroom again, slowly walking to you. His hands land on your shoulders gently, carefully massaging them as you instinctively lean your head against his chest. 

- Are you okay, love? - he asks you as his lips touch your neck, kissing your skin softly. 

The man notices the dark bags under your eyes, how your lips look more pale, as if today has stolen from them the plump, cherry tone that your husband loves so much, alongside your red-ish eyes, that are still puffy and tired from the restless night you just had. 

- Yeah, I’m fine - your hoarse voice replies, clearing your throat as your husband looks at you with a raised eyebrow, highly doubting your statement, that doesn’t match your face at all. - Are you sure? - he insists, moving so he can take a better look at you, noticing that you don’t look as good as you try to convince him. 

You slightly roll your eyes at him, pecking his cheek carefully - trying not to get him sick as well. Yes, you’re not feeling the greatest, but it’s just a cold, you will live through it. Yes, you would love for Lewis to spend the day with you, cuddling you or watching over Grace, so you could hide behind the covers and sleep this flu away.

However, you are aware of all his professional duties, and there’s no way that you will encourage him to call out of work. So, with an unconvincing smile, you insist: you are fine, and you can make it through the day with a cold. 

Sighing softly, the man puts his arms up as if he is surrendering. 

- Okay, okay. Call me if you need anything, yeah? I’ll be back in a blink of an eye - your husband lets you know, capturing your lips in a loving kiss as his arms wrap around your waist, holding you closer to him for a moment. 

Nodding your head at his words, you allow the man to leave without feeling any remorse - it’s just a cold, after all. And you really try to keep your routine as normal as possible, going to wake Grace a little later than usual, allowing the little girl to sleep longer as you end up falling asleep in the middle of your covers as well. 

Even with a sore body, a hurt throat, you try your best to keep your energy at an acceptable rate, so you can waste it all with your curious girl: the three-year-old that wants to explore this entire world, as well as the entire galaxy - all at the same time. 

But you physically can’t. As the hours pass by, your figure grows colder, your limbs hurt more and more, you get caught in coughing fits more frequently, and it gets to a point when your daughter looks at you with her chocolate eyes full of pity, feeling bad from seeing her mummy so sick. And you notice the way Grace calms down as well, suggesting that you two would lay on the sofa, just watching her favourite cartoons as the toddler gently caresses your cheek with the back of her hand - making a genuine smile appear in your face as you hold your baby close. 

You seem to relax a bit as you stop moving around to meet Grace and her activities. However, your daughter feels exasperated, waiting for her daddy to come home, her small eyebrows furrowing slightly while she puts her brain to work. 

Mummy was already sick when she woke me up. And daddy had already been to work. Didn’t he see that mummy wasn’t feeling good?! Why is he not home yet? - the little girl thinks to herself, moving her hand gently to touch your hair softly, trying to shoo a bit of the pain away from her mummy’s figure. 

You don’t even notice the hours passing by, feeling your eyes growing heavier and heavier, fighting the will to fall asleep on your child, trying your best to stay as awake as you can for her. And you manage to do it, even if at much cost for your body and rest. 

But when you hear the keys turning on the front door, Grace immediately leaves her spot next to you, running to meet her daddy - something that it’s definitely not a surprise to you. 

Lewis is also used to having the light of his life waiting for him when he comes home, but today, the light of his life looks at him more as a storm, ready to crash on him as the little girl crosses her arms in front of her chest, looking at him impatiently before speaking. 

- Lewis Daddy Hamilton! Where have you been?! Mummy is so sick! - the toddler asks in an urgency, her tone reprimanding her dad for not being home all this time.

Your husband is taken aback as he walks inside your shared house, raising an eyebrow at his kid’s words. 

- Well hello to you too, my love. Daddy was at work! Mummy isn’t feeling better? - the man asks, keeping his tone light and soft for his baby.  - No! She is not feeling better! Aren’t you her husband?! In sickness and health?! - Grace is agitated, feeling nervous as she puts emphasis on certain words, one hand on her hip and pointing a finger at her dad from time to time. 

The three-year-old’s words make his heart clench in his chest as he realizes that the medicine you had earlier in the morning didn’t help much, and that you need some serious care from your husband and daughter. But still, Lewis can’t stop noticing Grace’s references.

- How on earth did you learn about wedding vows, miss? - the man questions curiously, only to be met with an impatient eye roll from his daughter, who just replies back ‘the telly’ in an obvious tone. 

Chuckling slightly, Lewis fills a cup with water, handing it to the toddler. 

- Alright, alright, miss. I’ll call out of work for the afternoon. Can you take this to mummy, please? Be careful - he advises, handing her the cup, making sure it’s secured in her little hands. 

Grace nods, preparing her last words before she leaves the kitchen. 

- Mummy needs medicine and a nice, warm soup. Get to work! - she says in a bossy tone before walking back to you, giving smaller steps so as not to spill the water on the floor. 

You take the cup from her hands, thanking your little one as you finally get some water to slide down your dry throat, relieving the pain for a few seconds. 

- Drink it all, mummy, so you can feel better - Grace’s tone when directed at you is as sweet as honey, wanting to help her mummy feeling better. 

Kissing her cheek softly, you let her know that she is all that you need to feel better. The words make your baby blush a little, and they’re not a lie. But today, you’re afraid that Grace won’t be the remedy to the cold that continues to creep more and more on your body - definitely in need to mix her cuddles with some effective medicine. 

As the girl joins your side again, you wrap her in the blanket that’s keeping your body warm, hugging her the way both of you enjoy so much. However, just a few seconds later, your husband comes into sight, seeing you for the first time since he left the house this morning. He gives you a gentle smile, seeing his two girls cuddled on the sofa, but immediately realizing that’s not the best place for you to rest your body in, now. 

- You said you were fine, huh? - Lewis banters for a second, remembering the words that you gave him in the morning, kissing your hand softly as he sits on the edge of the couch for a few seconds.  - And I am - you reply, just in time to get caught in another coughing fit, noticing the look that the man gives you, not believing that you continue to insist that you are okay, when you are so visibly sick. 

Shaking his head, the man gets up from his spot.

- How about we take you to bed, love? Your body will keep hurting if you lay here, all bent, for any longer - he suggests, and you know that he is right, groaning more as you feel every inch of your limbs hurting more and more when you try to move slightly, sitting down in your place so you can leave the sofa. 

However, a surprised yelp escapes your lips when your husband’s arms wrap around your figure carefully, picking you up bridal style and carrying you to your bed - even earning a giggle from his daughter once he winks at her, showing her that he started complying to his ‘husbandly duties’ right away.

His arms lay you down on the sheets slowly and carefully, as if you were made of porcelain in his hands, gently wrapping your body with the warm covers. Once the man sees that you seem way more comfortable now, he lands a kiss on your forehead, noticing how hot your skin feels. 

- Baby, you’re burning - he informs you, putting his mind to work as he remembers where you usually put the medicine that you need so much now. 

Walking inside the bathroom, the man searches the counter, hearing Grace’s little feet running to meet her dad. 

- I’ll take the medicine for mummy, daddy! I want to help too - the toddler says with big eyes, peeking through the door to check if you’re still lying down, as you are not authorized by your daughter to leave the bed! - Here, love - Lewis catches her attention again, seeing how the girl cups her hands in a shell shape, so her daddy can place down two pills that the child makes sure to take safely to her mum. 

Carefully walking over to you, your daughter hands you the medicine that you make sure to chug down with a water bottle, desperate to have something that will help you feel better once and for all. 

- Bubs, how about you come downstairs and help daddy cook lunch? So we can let mummy get some rest, alright? - Lewis offers softly, smiling at you when he sees you smiling back at him, a silent ‘thank you’ for taking care of you, for giving you some time for yourself, so you can have some peace of mind and allow your body to finally relax.

Grace nods at her dad’s words, walking over to the edge of the bed to kiss your cheek lovingly. 

- Don’t leave the bed, mummy! If you need anything, you call me and I come running immediately! Okay? I want you to get better - the toddler whispers softly to you, as if she is trying to not disturb your recovery.  - I’ll make sure to be right here when you’re back, my love. Thank you - you whisper back, hugging her as the little girl wraps her arms around your neck gently, before meeting her dad near the door. 

Picking her up, Lewis goes back to the kitchen, getting everything ready to cook you a warm soup, that you so desperately need. 

- Do you want to help me, princess? - he tries to catch the toddler’s attention, who is ready to reply to his question. - No - Grace says unapologetically, while sitting on her chair. - I spent the entire morning cuddling with mummy when you should have been here, but you weren’t. - your daughter states her ground, with her small hands on her hips and all.

She is merciless with her words, still feeling frustrated by seeing her mummy sick. Mummy never gets sick, and when she does, daddy is not home to help her!

- I’m sorry Gracie, but mummy told me that she was fine this morning. I didn’t know she was this sick, baby - Lewis tries to explain his side, making up for his absence during the morning as he starts chopping vegetables for the soup. 

Putting her hand up in a ‘stop’ movement, the little girl makes the man stop in his tracks, furrowing his eyebrows at her actions. 

- Yeah yeah Lewis, excuses - she rolls her eyes at him again, losing all patience with her father and his words. - Do I have to be the one doing everything in this house?! 

Lewis is dumbfounded, several question marks visible on his face as he stares at his kid, not enjoying her attitude at all.

- Miss, I advise you to watch that tone. I’m still your father - he says in a more stern way and a serious facial expression, going back to focus on the cooking as silence installs in the kitchen right after.

For some more minutes, the two of them cook your soup together. ‘Together’, meaning that your daughter was giving all the orders, making sure that your husband followed them. 

Lewis sighs from time to time, his mind divided between you and your health state, and Grace and the unbearable attitude that she has today, but he decides to relativize it, focusing on feeding his two girls - hoping that both of you might feel better right after. 

Your child gets tired of looking at her dad cooking, leaving her seat to go back to your room. However, before she leaves the kitchen, she gives Lewis another threatening look. 

- I am going to check on your wife, don’t mess up her food! - she emphasises, pointing two fingers from her eyes to him, silently telling dad that she has her eyes on him.

Lewis doesn’t even reply to her, sighing loudly as he shakes his head at his daughter's antics, not really understanding how she can sustain so much attitude inside of her tiny figure. Meeting you in bed again, Grace smiles at the sight of Roscoe lying at your feet, the poor dog also sensing that you aren’t feeling well. You open one of your arms to nestle your kid next to you, missing the warmth erupting from her loving cuddles already, smiling when she hugs you right back.

- Daddy will be right here with your food, mummy - the toddler informs you, earning a soft nod from you as you turn on the television so you two can entertain yourselves with some of your favourite shows. 

Choosing Gravity Falls, you and Grace pay attention to the telly, feeling some more comfort erupting through you from this moment with your little one. And time passes by faster, not really noticing it, until your husband is walking inside the room with a tray filled with food in his hands. 

- I hope my girls are hungry, because I cooked a very! delicious soup, may I say, and we also have some noodles and fruit - the man announces the menu for lunch, winning some claps from his mini-version.  - I am sooo hungry! - the toddler replies, crossing her arms again in a bossy way, even if her dad had already warned her about it.

Either way, your daughter calms down as soon as she starts eating, feeling her stomach more content with the nice food that Lewis had cooked for you, and you can totally relate to that sensation, feeling your body almost thanking you for the warm soup. 

With the show still playing in the background, the three of you eat in peace, feeling the air lightening around your figures, as you finally feel the medicine kicking in, easing the pain that was being endured on your body for the past couple of hours. 

- Did I redeem myself, miss Gracie? - your husband nudges your child slightly, allowing a teasing giggle to leave his lips. 

You notice the way your daughter gets a bit shy at her dad’s provocation, hiding the blush on her cheeks with her small hand. 

- Yes, BUT! - the three-year-old puts her finger up in the air - I think mummy should know how I had to boss you around for a bit. 

Both you and Lewis chuckle in unison at your baby’s antics, and you can’t help but melt at the way the little girl immediately loses herself in her daddy’s arms, finally hugging him for the first time today. 

- I was just worried, because I want mummy to be okay and happy - your little one says, looking at you while she’s still merged in her dad’s nestle as your husband softly kisses her temple.

You pout at her adorableness, welcoming her into your arms right next, thanking her for taking such good care of you when you are feeling so sick. You definitely wouldn’t feel better without your baby’s sweet cuddles.

Grace had a hint of sadness and concern inside of her tiny figure all day, worried about you - the strongest, most special mummy there is: Grace’s mummy, that takes care of her whenever the toddler is sick, sad, kissing away her tears and pain, nestling her to sleep, watching her favourite cartoons together, tickling her until her belly hurts from laughing so hard, sharing the most special moments between the two of you. 

So, seeing her pillar frail, encouraged the little girl to stand up for you, even if that meant that she had to lose her way and boss her dad a bit, to make sure that he would take good care of you. And he did, as always. You knew that all you had to do was make a call to your husband’s number, and he would be home in a second if needed - but it’s best to blame your stubbornness for this one. 

Apologising to her daddy for being bossy and even a bit rude sometimes, your husband immediately gives into the girl’s words, understanding how she was feeling insecure by seeing you sick - even if it’s just something as simple as a cold, hugging his mini-version once again. 

Putting the tray now filled with dirty dishes to the side, you and Lewis lay down on your pillows, opening up space for Grace to lay in between the warmth of your bodies, where the toddler loves to be so much. 

Sharing small giggles here and there, gentle touches erupt from your figures, as your husband’s fingers draw sweet patterns on your arm, since both you and your daughter are basically cuddled to his side, now - giving him the opportunity to land kisses on the top of your heads from time to time, as the three of you focus on the new episode of Gravity Falls that just started.

Out of nowhere, the three-year-old gets up from the space in between your figures, running out of the room, telling you how she forgot something in her bedroom. You imagine she would be back with her favourite plushie so she can hold him while watching the telly, but a surprised laugh escapes your lips when your child comes back into the room with a bar of chocolate in her hands. 

- This is for you, mummy - Grace tells you, handing you the candy while looking at her dad with a compromised look and a giggle that she tries to suppress: she took it from Lewis’ “secret” stash of candy that he has in her room, and that you pretend not to know a thing about, even after your daughter telling you everything about it already.

The man looks at the little girl with an eyebrow raised, in a comical way, making the toddler laugh at the situation. 

- Uhm… I’ll let this one slide because mummy is sick and she needs a sweet. But just so you know, I’m moving my candy from its place, so you won’t find them, little lady - Lewis jokes, his giggles mixing with Grace’s as he tickles her, obviously just messing around with his kid. 

But Grace is still more witty than him, already ready to give her dad a piece of her sassiness, as she just ironizes: 

- Uhmhm, we both know that’s not happening, daddy - looking at him with another hand to her hip in a very sassy, very Grace’s usual way, making you laugh so much that you get caught in another coughing fit. 

And that’s the line that your family needs to calm down again, as your daughter gets back to her place in between her parents’ frames, her tiny fingers gently twirling some pieces of your hair while the child focuses on the cartoons again - something that she used to do when she was even smaller than she is now, and definitely a little action from her that’s enough to make your heart grow in your chest at the memories of something that she used to do repeatedly when she needed to calm down to sleep, and that she does so rarely now. 

These are the moments that you live for, the fuel of your life and health, what immediately makes you feel better as you only need to have your daughter and your husband by your side, never forgetting about the loyal Roscoe as well - as if you could ever forget about him, this peaceful moment of cuddles in bed being punctuated by the dog’s loud snores that makes you and Lewis chuckle from time to time. 

Some time after the cuddle session has started, Grace sneezes, sniffling a bit while never taking her eyes off the telly, making you and Lewis immediately look at each other with widened eyes - your conscience identifying the consequences of cuddling your daughter all day when you’re sick. 

But even if tomorrow you’ll wake up to a chaotic household, sharing your cold with your toddler and making your husband call out of work to take care of you two, this is still where your gravity lays, the reason that makes you wish that everything stays still, longing forever in the warm, never ending love that strings your family together - something that you are so, so grateful for, in sickness and health.

[lillymmb]

"Ferrari and married"

husband!lewis hamilton x wife!reader

warnings: none

summary: your husband lewis reveal in his first 2025 ferrari interview that he's a married man now.

It was a bright and crisp morning in 2025, and the atmosphere around the Ferrari garage was electric. The team had just revealed their new car, and the buzz in the air was contagious. Lewis Hamilton, fresh off his first practice session as a Ferrari driver, was seated at the press conference table. His new red Ferrari jacket, emblazoned with the iconic prancing horse logo, fit him perfectly. He had always been a master at handling the media, his calm demeanor and charisma shining through with every answer.

The cameras flashed, the reporters scribbled notes, and the usual questions about the car, the team, and the season were tossed his way. But then came the question that stopped him in his tracks.

"So, Lewis," a journalist began, adjusting their microphone. "We’ve been hearing a lot about your personal life lately, especially with rumors about a certain someone being close to you. Can you tell us a bit more about your girlfriend? And is she here with you today?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of Lewis' lips. He’d known the question was coming, but he’d been dreading it just the same. He glanced toward the door of the press room, as if waiting for something—or rather, someone. His heart skipped a beat as he spotted you walking in. Your presence made the room feel warmer, brighter, like the calm after a storm. You gave him a soft smile, your eyes sparkling with love and support.

“Actually,” Lewis began, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of excitement, “she’s right there.” He gestured to you, his gaze never leaving your face. “And I’m really happy to announce something today.”

The room fell silent, everyone leaning in, eager to hear what he would say next. A few reporters exchanged curious glances, their pens poised to write down whatever came next.

“I’ve got some news,” Lewis continued, a grin now spreading across his face. “You all know I’ve been in a long-term relationship with someone amazing. And I’m excited to tell you that... we actually got married.”

Gasps and whispers filled the room, and the cameras flashed in a frenzy as reporters scrambled to capture the moment. The journalists were stunned, but Lewis just looked at you, his eyes softening with adoration.

You blushed, walking closer to him as he stood up. “Lewis, you didn’t have to tell them all that today,” you said with a playful smile, though your heart was racing with happiness.

But Lewis only shrugged, a look of pure joy on his face. “I wanted to. Everyone’s been so supportive of me throughout my career, and I’ve always kept my personal life a little more private. But it felt like the right time to share this with all of you.”

He turned to face the crowd again. “I’m really excited for this new chapter in my life—both professionally and personally. I have the best partner in the world, and I’m grateful for every moment we’ve shared. And I can’t wait to have her by my side through this next journey with Ferrari.”

The room was filled with applause, but it was the quiet smile between you two that stole the show. In that moment, it didn’t matter that the press room was buzzing or that cameras were still flashing. What mattered was the quiet certainty in your eyes as you looked at each other—two souls in perfect harmony.

The journalist who had asked the question spoke again, slightly in awe. “So, you’re officially married. That’s incredible. How does it feel to be a Ferrari driver... and a married man?”

Lewis chuckled, running a hand through his hair, still looking at you with affection. “It feels amazing. Ferrari is a dream come true, and having Y/n by my side makes everything even more special. We’ve been through a lot together, and now this... It’s the beginning of a whole new chapter.”

Another reporter raised their hand. “Do you have plans for a celebration? Or is it more of a private thing?”

“Well, you know us,” Lewis replied with a wink. “We like to keep things low-key. But we’re definitely planning something with close friends and family. It’ll be perfect.”

Your heart swelled with warmth as you watched him speak so openly about your love, about your relationship. It wasn’t always easy being in the spotlight, but moments like this made it all worth it. You’d always been there for each other, and now, here you were—married, sharing your joy with the world.

As the press conference wrapped up, Lewis turned to you, his hand finding yours. “Ready to go?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Absolutely,” you replied, squeezing his hand. “Let’s get out of here and celebrate.”

With that, the two of you left the press room together, the new chapter of your lives just beginning. The world was watching, but for once, it felt like it was just the two of you—together, forever.

a/n: ferrari lewis fanfic bc im so proud of him in this new chapter!

© LILLYMMB do not repost and do not copy!

[jo-com]

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ ➛ Eye Catching

F1 Drivers x Toto Wolf’s daughter

Summary: The only time you go to your dads and you already got the attention of the drivers.

Genre: SMAU

Fc: Various face claim, found the pics on pinterest

Note: grammatical errors and not proofread

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

───── ─ ೀ⋆｡🌷─ ───────

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Yn.wolf thanks for following lil ol me💋

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Charles_Leclerc are you perhaps single?

Yn.wolf hmm idk🤔 ask dad

User1 WAHAHAHHAHA GURL GOT HUMBLED FAST

Lewishamilton @Charles_Leclerc let a real man handle this

User2 The fact that all of them wants her

User3 ATE AT THE PADDOCK TODAY

User4 waiting for @Lewishamilton shot

User5 honestly same

Yn.wolf same😐

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Toto_wolf you shouldn’t even be here right now at my DAUGHTERS post

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Carlossainz55 just saw toto’s comment, i’ll sit this one out

Toto_wolf best idea you ever had

User8 this is getting way out of hand😭

Yn.wolf couldn’t agree more

User9 y/n’s vibe is just so 😫👌🏻

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Urbff wow 2 flowers in one day, you must be rich!

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Toto_wolf tell me who.

Urbff even idk sir😭

Carlossainz55 hope you love it señora💞

Yn.wolf i do in fact my kind sir, gracias💕

Maxverstappen1 did you like mine?

Yn.wolf they were also lovely!

Maxverstappen1 thanks, took me an hour to pick the right one

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Toto_wolf i am blocking the mail service as we speak

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Toto_wolf dear god🤦🏻‍♂️

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Yn.wolf just posted a story!

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Carlossainz55 my world😍😚

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Carlossainz55 i just love how, they think that they have a shot with you

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Lewishamilton can i get another shot?

Maxverstappen1 my cats said hi

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Charles_leclerc book*

Landonorris i love you

Landonorris damn i mean the view, you got me crazy for a moment there

…

Short but hope you like it though💞

[f1daydreamer]

Unshakable

---

Request : I NEED a protective Lewis Hamilton fic where he defends the reader from online hate or a rude reporter. Please! 🥺

---

The hotel room in Monaco was silent, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the rapid tapping of your fingers against your phone screen. You had tried not to read the comments. You really had. But curiosity is a dangerous thing, especially when it drags you into the murky waters of social media.

“She’s just a nobody. Lewis can do better.”

“She’s only with him for the fame. Classic gold-digger.”

“Why would a world champion waste his time with her?”

Your throat tightened, jaw clenched. You didn’t ask for any of this attention. Loving Lewis had been easy—natural even. But being loved by him, the most famous, talked-about driver in Formula 1, came with a price you hadn’t known you’d have to pay.

The door opened with a soft click. Lewis walked in, fresh from media day, sunglasses still perched on his face and his Mercedes jacket unzipped halfway. He smiled when he saw you—until he noticed the way your eyes didn’t lift from the screen. The way your shoulders sagged under a weight he couldn’t see yet.

“Y/N?” he asked gently, pulling off his sunglasses. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You blinked, set the phone down quickly, and forced a small smile. “Nothing. Just tired.”

He didn’t believe you. He never did when you said that.

Lewis walked over, kneeling in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours like they were the only thing that mattered in the universe. “Tell me the truth.”

Your lip trembled. “It’s just… people online. They say horrible things. About me. About us.”

He exhaled slowly, his jaw ticking. “Show me.”

You hesitated, then handed him the phone. He scrolled in silence, his brows furrowing deeper with each comment. The screen dimmed as the phone locked itself in his hand. Lewis stood up, pacing, running a hand down his face.

“I’ve had people talk sh*t about me for years,” he muttered, almost to himself. “But you? You’re the most genuine, beautiful, loving person I’ve ever known. And they don’t even know you.”

You stood too, voice small. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe I don’t belong in your world.”

That broke him.

Lewis turned sharply, crossing the space between you in two steps, cupping your face in his hands. “Don’t you ever say that. You belong with me. And no one—no one—gets to decide that but us.”

His voice was fierce, his grip tender.

---

The next day was race day, and you walked behind the scenes, trying to stay out of the spotlight. But of course, that never worked.

The press line was crowded, and as Lewis made his way through the interviews, one journalist’s voice rose above the others—sharp, biting, too familiar.

“So, Lewis,” the reporter began, smug, “after all the buzz about your… girlfriend, do you think she’s a distraction heading into the championship fight? Some say your focus isn’t where it used to be.”

You froze, breath caught in your throat.

Lewis, still smiling, slowly turned his full attention to the reporter. His posture shifted subtly—calm, but with an edge like steel.

“I’m glad you brought that up,” he said, voice cool and composed. “Because it gives me a chance to say this loud and clear.”

He looked into the camera—not at the reporter, not at the fans, but straight through the lens, as if speaking to every critic, every online troll, every petty voice hiding behind a screen.

“Y/N is not a distraction. She’s my peace. She’s the reason I show up every day stronger. The hate she’s been getting? It's disgusting. Uncalled for. And I won’t stay quiet about it anymore.”

The crowd went silent.

“If you think loving someone openly makes me weaker, you don’t know me at all. What makes me stronger is being real. And she’s as real as it gets. So from now on—back off.”

You swallowed hard, heart thudding, barely able to process what just happened. The way he stood there, unapologetically defending you, making the world know exactly where he stood—it was overwhelming.

When the interviews wrapped, he walked back toward you, ignoring the cameras, the handlers, the noise. Just you.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

You nodded, tears in your eyes. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He pulled you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin. “Yes, I did. I’ll always stand up for you. Always.”

And just like that, the hate didn’t matter so much anymore—not when you had a love like this.

---

[jamminvroomvroom]

4k celebration

congrats on 4k love - your writing is absolutely worth all of the hype and even more!!! i adore your work and so look forward to even more people discovering it.

i was hoping to request a lewis fic?? i’m such a slut for a good enemies to lovers situation, so maybe along the lines of reader is a fair bit younger than lewis, but there’s been all of this tension btwn them and it all boils over one night (smuttyyyyy) 🥴

we made up.

LH x fem!rival reader - 4k celebration

in which you can never just bite your tongue

eeeeek i love this request! thank u sm anon for ur sweet words, ur so lovely i hope i’ve done this justice for you! writing for lewis terrified me so this might not be my best work but we move! more lewis requests to come, let me know what you think <3

songs to set the mood: stargirl interlude by the weekend & lana del rey

warnings: 18+!! minors go away!! smut, swearing, degradation, praise, dom!lewis, some switch!reader, implied age gap, slightly inexperienced reader, enemies to lovers, blink n you’ll miss it size kink

2.6k words

you hide admiration with a scowl, curling into yourself, as far away as you can get from him. the couch seems to get smaller and smaller with every overly intelligent, carefully thought out word he says. each sentence seems to be coated in a thick layer of i don’t give a fuck. you don’t know how he’s so good a toeing the line.

after six years in f1, you still couldn’t work out why you didn’t like lewis hamilton.

maybe it was his cool confidence, the way he never lacked composure, while you were called an unhinged, delusional woman by every incel on twitter for so much as breathing. maybe it was his sky high stack of trophies, championships, podiums, wins. you weren’t even halfway close to touching his records. maybe it was the way he was diabolically, inhumanly gorgeous, a truly breathtaking creature. you paled in every single way compared to lewis, so how could you even begin to like him?

it was silly, really, pathetic even, feeling such childish disdain just because he was better than you. he was older, more refined, iconic in every single way that you weren’t. perhaps you’d get there one day, but you simply weren’t there yet.

you’re sat beside him in the press conference, sharing the couch with him, alex, lando, charles and max. it wasn’t the worst combination in the world, but anytime you had to sit in front of a gaggle of hawk-eyed journos and a million cameras with lewis, something unfortunate usually happened. never by design, but you just weren’t very good at saving face in front of the mercedes driver.

“do you think the podium is a possibility this weekend?” someone from autosport whose name you can’t remember asks.

“i’m hoping so, just need to keep the mercs behind us again, but i don’t think that will be that hard.” you respond, without even a sliver of a filter. the material of the sofa shifts as lewis tenses up beside you, inhaling sharply at your blatant disrespect. somewhere beside you, lando sniggers, and max is rolling his eyes.

it was no secret that you didn’t have the softest spot in the world for sir lewis.

“that’s assuming your car makes it to the end of the race.” lewis clears his throat, speaking with confident conviction. you turn you head to glare at him, painfully unable to take what you give. alex slaps his hand over his mouth.

“at least my car isn’t so bad that i’d rather go and learn the alphabet down at ferrari.” you scoff. you avoid the eyes of your comms officer, because if looks could kill, you’d be six feet under already.

“i think we’ll leave it there.” tom clarkson suggests, and you stand from the panel and storm away on trembling legs with a terrible ache throbbing between them.

there’s something about the pettiness, the reasonless back and fourth you two always seem to partake in that leaves you in need of a cold shower.

-

turns out, you have to apologise.

you spend the better part of an hour being bollocked by your press team, who, for some reason, don’t find it particularly amusing that you’d somehow managed to insult the lewis hamilton, ferrari, and mercedes in the span of two sentences.

so, there you were, begrudgingly trailing towards lewis’s hotel room. it’s on the top floor, because of course it is, it’s him. he oozes expensive exclusively, naturally above the rest. you twist your rings nervously, increasingly terrified of being in a confined space alone with the gorgeous brit. your knuckles rap gently against the wood of his door, intentionally weakly. you pray he won’t hear you and that you can just disappear back into the elevator and into your room, to pathetically let you hands wander between your clenched thighs.

but god laughs, and the door swings open. lewis seems startled by your presence, just for a moment though, leaning cooly against the doorframe. his lips pull into a faint smile. two things alarm you. first of all, he’s shirtless, bare from the waist up, a plethora of delicious tattoos on display for you to feast your eyes on. secondly, and somehow even worse, he’s panting, clearly just back from a work out in the gym. he glistens with sweat, and your mind goes blank, apologetic words die on your tongue.

“something to say, angel, or are you just here to stare?” lewis teases, the words rolling off his tongue smoothly. you pray for the ground to gape open, swallow you hole, suck you into hot lava.

“well, i was gonna apologise but i don’t think you deserve it.” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest accusingly.

“didn’t think you knew how to apologise.” lewis grins sarcastically, mocking you.

“has anyone told you how arrogant you are?” you bite back, eyes narrowing.

“why don’t you come in here and i’ll show you just how arrogant i can be?” his voice has dropped a few octaves, seductive and low.

the proposition, the suggestion behind his words makes you fold immediately. you’d wondered for far too long about what he was like behind closed doors and under thick bedsheets, and if you had the chance at finding out, you’d be imbecilic not to take it.

you shove his muscled chest, pushing him back into his room. his hands find your waist, pulling harshly at the material of your loose t-shirt. he’s watching you intently, mesmerised by the angry flush on your cheeks tinging you pink. your eyes convey hunger, matching his, and you’re forcing him down to sit at the foot of his bed.

“why are you such an asshole?” you hiss, slotting your knees on either side of his so that you’re straddling him.

“probably the same reason you’re such a little bitch.” lewis growls, tugging you forward harshly on his lap. you feel his work out shorts ride up on his thighs, the material sensitive on your skin.

your pupils blow wide at his words, and you’re kissing him hard, teeth and tongues clashing messily. his lips are so soft, pillowy as they brush aggressively with your own and you lick wetly into his awaiting mouth. he’s addictive, minty, and you fall against his bare chest as he leans back into the mattress.

“i think you need to be taught some manners.” lewis grunts, flipping your bodies over like you’re nothing, and slotting against your body like a missing piece.

“i think the same could be said about you.” you breathe, sliding your hand under the waistband of his shorts. he chuckles quietly, the rumble reverberating through your own chest, cracking you open.

“try your best.” he whispers. your eyes roll back.

truth is, you’re not the most experienced person in the world. yes, you’re in your mid twenties, but a long term relationship with the worlds biggest loser and dedicating your life to a career in a boys club meant that you didn’t have the time to develop broadest set of skills. you didn’t have the luxury of letting loose in a nightclub with a stranger because if that information got into the wrong hands, you’d be slut-shamed off the face of the earth. so now, you found yourself a little bit lost under a literal sex god.

as if he can hear your thoughts, lewis pulls back.

“what’s the matter? do you want me to stop?” he’s softer than he ever has been with you, melting away in your hands, but you draw him back in, tightening your grip on the band of his shorts.

“no, no, i just…” the words die on your tongue. something in your eyes gives him all the information that he needs.

“do what feels right, good.” his nose brushes your jaw, kissing over it and you settle back into the moment.

“teach me a lesson.” you whisper, empowered in his hands, and he springs back into action, his demeanour slipping right back into what it had been.

“is that why you’re so bad in interviews? just want me to fuck some respect into you?” his lips tug amusedly when you nod rapidly up at him.

an experimental roll of his hips makes you keen, hand slipping into his braids and pulling hard. his eyes fall shut, lips parting to let out a soft groan, his eyebrows pinching from the rough pleasure. your fingers graze over the skin of his toned belly, finding sensitive skin that makes him shiver.

“you distracted, lew?” you taunt, with the only intention of riling him up.

his eyes snap open, hard and lacking any sort of warmth, and he tears your hands from where they rest on his firm body, swiftly pinning them above your head with one hand. he plants himself on one knee, balancing himself so that he can fiddle with the button of your shorts. he makes quick work of removing them, forcing the zipper down and skilfully manoeuvring them with just the one hand.

once they’re gone, along with the lace of your underwear, he forces your thighs apart, and slides his fingers along the seam of your cunt, slicking them up. you’re soaked and he momentarily falters, but he doesn’t let himself get too visibly affected.

“fuck, you’re so wet. been thinking about me, angel?” he teases mercilessly, as he rocks the first thick digit into you, twisting and curling until he finds the spot that makes you buck your hips.

“nothing to say now, hm?” lewis tuts, wetting his lips. the feeling of you squeezing so tight around just one of his fingers makes him choke out a moan. you can feel his hot breath fanning over your face, your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of him filling you up.

“more.” you breathe, stuttering over just one word. he revels in how he’s managed to reduce you to this so quickly.

“you sure you can take it, angel? so fucking tight.”

“make me.” you plead, parting your strained thighs even wider for him.

he lets go of your hands, snaking down your body to get himself closer to where you’re dripping already.

“keep them there.” lewis orders, and you grip tightly onto the pillows to exercise restraint.

lewis presses his forearm over the plush of your belly, holding you down as he adds a second finger, watching in awe as it slips so effortlessly into your pussy. you’re mewling, fighting to buck your hips but the firm press of his muscled arm keeps you in place.

“so pretty for me, angel, soaking my fingers.” he notes, entranced at how responsive you are for him.

“want you inside of me, lew.” you whine, knuckles paper white where you’re fighting off the urge to reach down and touch him.

“wait.” he snarls, ramming his fingers even harder, grinding against the soft spot buried deep. “you’re gonna cum like this first.”

with that, he removes the barricade of his arm, bringing his spare hand to your clit, the pad of his thumb drawing calloused circles into the bud. you lose it, grinding down on his fingers like a woman possessed.

“that’s it, sweetie, fuck yourself for me.” lewis encourages, voice gravelly and low.

sparks shoot down your spine, nothing but white behind your eyelids as he lights you on fire. you can’t warn him, the words lost to the tense air of the room as you barrel towards your first release. he eases you through it, not letting up even a little bit, but it pays off when you can’t help but writhe against the cream of the bedspread.

“god.” you croak, flopping limp as he pulls out, crawling over you.

“learned your lesson?”

“not quite.” you flash an exhausted grin, abandoning your grasp on the pillows to slide them down his thick frame.

you trace the lion adorning his shoulder, the compass, each piece driving you further into utter delirium. your hands graze his waist, snaking around his abdomen until you reach the cross, tracing it until you reach words that keep him going.

still i rise the cursive reads, and he shivers as you rake your nails over it.

“fuck me.” you purr. your hands slide under his shorts once more, gripping at the curve of his ass. you push the material down over his thighs, and he happily kicks them away, his inked hands roughly spreading you even wider.

“desperate little thing, bet you go home after every race and fuck yourself silly wishing it was me, hm?” he adjusts himself between your legs, his thick cock nudging against you entrance, drenching himself in the mess he’d made.

you gasp out a moan as he slides deep, taking his sweet time. you can’t even comprehend his words, totally consumed by the brutally enticing stretch of him, your thighs shaking at the delectable intrusion. he hisses at the sensation of your tight warmth, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. lewis licks over the sensitive skin, trailing open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. you feel the sharp graze of his teeth, gentle nips making you shudder on his cock.

“don’t leave a mark.” you choke, and lewis seems to get it, so he skims his teeth lower, sucking purple just over your heart.

you clamp down around him, allured by the tweak of pain, and it seems to spark something in him, his hips rolling into yours experimentally.

“you feel so fucking good.” lewis pants, his breath warm and wet on your neck.

“need you to move.” you plead, turning your head to capture his lips in an urgent kiss.

he pulls out, slamming back into you roughly, your tummy twisting with anticipation. lewis finds a rhythm that suits you both, hips hitting yours with every thrust, each one leaving you full and spent.

“gonna make sure you feel me for days.” he promises, yanking your legs over his hips. as he does, he hits deeper and you yelp, stars in your eyes. “when you sit in the car tomorrow, you’re gonna feel me and remember how to be a good fucking girl, not an attention seeking brat.”

you ramble his name, eyes flooding with tears of overstimulation, dumbfounded at how he seems to hit a new spot with every slide of his cock. he’s digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs, pulling your hips impossibly closer to his as he drives into you, as if he wants to become a part of you, moulded for an eternity. with the way your stomach knots, butterflies and adrenaline coursing through you, you’d comply; you’d let him do whatever he wanted to him anytime he wanted.

“‘m so close.” you whine, pulling on every part of him your hands can reach. a refreshed sense of determination builds in his eyes and he presses hard on your navel.

“so deep, can see it.” lewis slurs, eyes fixed on your belly.

those five words make you unravel, sending you hurtling over the edge. he can’t help but fuck you through it, hammering home while you spasm around him so tight that he struggles to move.

“fucking addicted to this pussy.” lewis groans, burying himself as deep as he can go.

you’re utterly enchanted as you watch him reach his release, gnawing at your bottom lip when his part in a moan, allowing gentle puffs of air to escape. his long eyelashes rest delicately over his cheeks as his eyes fall shut, your name spilling out of his mouth like a needy prayer.

you’re warm from the inside out, flushed and full when he settles, pressing his body weight into you completely.

-

two weeks later, you’re in japan, bored senseless in yet another press conference. lewis sits further down the couch, and you have to cross your legs every time he speaks. no one seems to notice, except him, of course.

when it’s your turn to speak, and you’re asked all about your little spat with sir lewis back in australia, you shrug, smirking.

“we made up.”

-

oof

-

taglist

@mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @formulaal @carlandoxlestappen

if you wanna be added or removed lemme know! :D

[emchante]

kinktober | marked by jealousy - l.h.

summary: when another man is all over you at the club, lewis’ jealousy quietly builds. once you come back to him, lewis doesn't let you leave until he’s marked his territory.

WARNINGS: 18+ content, dom!lewis, possessive lewis, rough sex, bathroom sex, public sex, biting, dirty talk, claiming

w.c. 2.7k+

a/n happy halloween and final day of kinktober! nice to have this event done with, but i loved every second of it. i feel like this is one of my weaker works for this event, but ill let you all be the decider of that. thank you so much for the support this month!! so many new followers and faces and i'm so grateful to have you all <3

the pulsing bass vibrated through your body as you made your way back to the vip section. the darkened club felt like it was swallowing you whole, the flashing neon lights cutting through the fog of cigarette smoke. you could feel eyes on you, some lingering longer than others, but you kept your gaze forward, zeroing in on the roped-off area where you knew lewis would be waiting.

you pushed through the velvet rope, the bouncer recognizing you instantly, and exhaled in relief. you didn’t have to look up to know exactly where lewis was; he was always in the same spot, a commanding presence that drew your attention effortlessly. the club, no matter how crowded or chaotic, always faded away when you saw him.

lewis was leaning against the plush back of the booth, one arm draped over the low backrest. his other hand gripped a crystal glass half-filled with an amber liquid that glistened under the low light. his fingers tapped rhythmically against the glass, his jaw clenched in a hard line, and his dark eyes were fixed solely on you.

as you approached, his gaze never wavered. a heavy heat curled low in your stomach, knowing the weight of those eyes and the power they held over you. the man you’d left talking to at the bar was long forgotten in your mind, just a few minutes of idle conversation while lewis was busy entertaining a conversation of his own with some sponsors.

but clearly, lewis hadn't forgotten—or forgiven.

“hey, babe,” you called casually as you slid into the booth beside him, your knee brushing against his leg in an innocent, almost subconscious effort to bridge the gap between you. but the instant you felt the press of his body heat, you were aware of the tension coiled within him. the rhythmic tapping of his fingers ceased, and the grip on his glass tightened.

lewis turned his head slowly, eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse skip. his expression remained neutral, a little too controlled, but the rigid set of his shoulders betrayed the storm brewing beneath the surface. he set his glass down on the table with a soft thud, never breaking eye contact.

“where’ve you been?” he asked, voice low and measured. his british accent, normally a smooth melody in your ears, felt like a rough edge against your skin tonight.

“just chatting,” you replied nonchalantly, trying to ignore the electric tension crackling between you. you leaned back, letting your arm rest along the booth’s backrest, attempting to play off the unease you felt with a carefree demeanor. but lewis wasn’t buying it.

“chatting?” he repeated, arching an eyebrow, and you could hear the thinly veiled displeasure in his voice. “seemed like a bit more than that.”

you tried to scoff, but it came out weak. “he was just being friendly. it’s not like—”

“i’m not in the mood for games,” he interrupted, voice still calm, but the roughness beneath it was unmistakable. “especially not with you.”

the sudden shift in his tone left no room for arguments. your heartbeat picked up, a rush of nervous energy flooding through your veins. this wasn’t unfamiliar territory, but it was rare for lewis to let his emotions bleed through like this in public. it was both thrilling and unnerving.

his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he abruptly stood, holding out his hand. “come with me.”

you hesitated for only a split second before you took his hand. it wasn’t just the firmness of his grip but the way his fingers seemed to lock around yours, as if asserting ownership with every breath you took.

he led you through the throngs of people, moving with a quiet authority that parted the crowd with ease. you followed closely, feeling the heat of his hand against yours, a silent promise of what was to come. when he steered you towards the back of the club, past the bustling dance floor and towards a dimly lit hallway, your heart began to pound with anticipation.

the hallway was narrow, lined with closed doors that offered varying levels of privacy. he didn’t stop until he reached the last door, pushing it open without a word. he led you inside, and as soon as the door clicked shut, you felt the tension snap like a taut wire.

before you could speak, lewis spun you around, pressing you firmly against the door. his body pressed flush against yours, a wall of heat that left no room to breathe. the hand that had been gripping yours now held your hip possessively, while his other hand braced against the door beside your head. you could feel his breath against your neck, warm and heavy, as if he was trying to restrain himself from something darker.

“lewis—” you started, but he cut you off with a low growl, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“do you think i didn’t see him all over you?” he murmured, voice rough and heavy with jealousy. his fingers dug into your hip, anchoring you in place. “didn’t see him touching you, laughing with you, fucking looking at you like that?”

your heart raced as his words sank in, the jealousy simmering in his voice sending a thrill through you. you opened your mouth to protest, to explain, but lewis wasn’t having any of it.

“no,” he muttered, his voice dropping even lower, barely above a whisper. “you’re mine.” before you could react, lewis’ hand moved from the door to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips crashed against yours. the kiss was rough, demanding, and you melted into it, unable to do anything but cling to him. his teeth scraped against your lower lip, and you gasped into his mouth, the sudden sting of pain sending a jolt of desire through your body.

lewis pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours as he stared down at you. his pupils were blown wide, eyes dark with unspoken possessiveness.

“you wanna act like you don’t belong to me?” he murmured, voice a low rumble that vibrated through your chest. “fine. i’ll just have to remind you.”

before you could respond, lewis spun you around again, pressing you harder against the door. his hands were quick and decisive, lifting the hem of your dress and pushing it up over your hips. you could hear the low rasp of his breathing, the faint shuffle of fabric as he freed himself, and the anticipation made your head spin.

you felt his fingers hook under your panties, tugging them down roughly until they pooled around your ankles. then his hand was on your thigh, pulling your leg up and pinning it to the door, forcing you to open up for him.

the cool air against your exposed skin made you shiver, but the heat radiating from lewis’ body kept you grounded. you braced yourself against the door, fingers splayed out against the rough wood as you tried to steady your breathing.

“lewis,” you breathed, the plea slipping past your lips involuntarily. a “shh,” was murmured from him in return, and you could feel the sharp edge of his teeth against your shoulder, a warning bite. “not a word.”

there was no gentleness in the way he entered you, no patience or careful consideration. lewis wasn’t here to make love to you—he was here to reclaim you. his thrusts were hard and demanding, forcing the breath from your lungs with each movement. he pressed his chest against your back, pinning you between the door and the solid weight of his body, and you could do nothing but submit to him.

the rough rhythm of his hips, the low growl in his throat, the possessive way his fingers dug into your skin—it was all too much and not nearly enough. you moaned, the sound muffled against the door, but lewis wasn’t satisfied with that.

“louder,” he demanded, his voice rough and strained. “let them hear you.”

you bit your lip, trying to contain the sounds threatening to spill over, but lewis wasn’t having it. his hand snaked around to your front, fingers pressing firmly against the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. the sudden pressure made you cry out, your head falling back against his shoulder.

“good girl,” he murmured approvingly, his teeth grazing the side of your neck. “now stay still.”

before you could process his words, you felt the sharp sting of his teeth against your skin. you gasped, your body arching instinctively as the pain mingled with pleasure. lewis didn’t relent; he bit down harder, the possessive growl in his throat reverberating through your body.

when he finally pulled back, you felt the lingering heat of his bite on your skin, a reminder of his claim. but lewis wasn’t finished. he kissed the spot he’d bitten, his lips gentle against the throbbing ache, and then he did it again, sinking his teeth into your flesh with the same intensity.

the pain and pleasure blurred together, each bite sending a shiver down your spine and tightening the knot of desire in your stomach. your breaths came in short, ragged gasps, and you could feel lewis’ heartbeat racing against your back, the steady rhythm mirroring the pounding in your chest.

“mine,” he murmured between bites, each word punctuated by another mark. “you’re mine, and everyone knows that sweetheart, even if they try act oblivious.”

his words, his touch, the unrelenting possession in his voice—it was overwhelming. your legs began to tremble, the strain of holding yourself up under the force of his thrusts pushing you closer to the edge.

“lewis,” you gasped, voice breathless and pleading. “please—”

but lewis wasn’t going to let you finish so easily, not until he was done with you. “not yet,” he muttered, his voice rough with restraint. “not until i say.”

you whimpered, the ache between your legs growing unbearable, but you did as he said, holding on by sheer force of will. lewis’ grip on you tightened, and you could feel the desperation in his touch, the raw intensity with which he claimed you. every thrust felt like a statement, a silent promise that he wasn’t letting go, that he wouldn’t allow anyone else to have you.

his lips were back at your neck, his breath hot and uneven against your flushed skin. when he sank his teeth in again, just below your jaw, it wasn’t just a bite—it was a brand, a mark that told the world who you belonged to. the sharp sting made you cry out, your fingers curling against the rough wood of the door as the pain blended seamlessly with pleasure.

lewis growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back. “you think i don’t see it? the way they look at you? the way you smile at them?” his words were rough, almost choked, as if he was fighting to keep himself together. “but it doesn’t matter. because you’re mine.”

there was an edge of vulnerability beneath the possessiveness, a hint of fear that you’d slip away if he wasn’t careful. but that wasn’t going to happen—not now, not ever. not when he held you so tightly, every touch a silent plea for you to stay.

you couldn’t hold back any longer. the ache between your legs was almost painful, the need for release overwhelming every other thought in your mind. “lewis,” you gasped, the word barely audible over the pounding music outside and the rush of blood in your ears. “please.”

he exhaled sharply, the sound almost like a growl, and you felt the restraint in him snap. his thrusts became erratic, desperate, and you could feel his teeth graze your skin one last time before his hand slipped from your thigh to your hip, pulling you back against him as he drove into you with renewed urgency.

“now,” he murmured against your neck, the rough scrape of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “come for me.”

it was all you needed to hear. the pressure building inside you exploded, your body tensing and then shuddering violently as pleasure ripped through you. you cried out his name, the sound raw and desperate, and lewis didn’t hold back his own release any longer. his grip on you tightened almost painfully, his body pressing flush against yours as he followed you over the edge.

for a moment, the world disappeared—there was no club, no crowd, no lingering eyes. there was just you and lewis, two bodies pressed together, breaths mingling in the dark. the sensation of his lips on your skin, his fingers digging into your hip, his chest heaving against your back—it all felt like an unspoken promise, a silent confession of something deeper.

when you both finally came down from the high, lewis remained pressed against you, his breath hot and heavy in your ear. the weight of his body was a comforting reminder that he was still there, still holding onto you as if afraid you might vanish if he let go.

after a moment, he pulled back slightly, his hands loosening their grip on you but not letting go completely. his fingers brushed the marks he’d left on your neck, and you could feel the lingering heat of each bite, the skin still tender and throbbing.

lewis’ voice was softer when he spoke again, the rough edge replaced by something almost vulnerable. “look at me.”

you turned your head, meeting his gaze. the intensity in his eyes had softened, replaced by a mixture of possessiveness and something else—something raw and genuine that made your chest tighten.

“i’m not letting anyone else have you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “do you understand?”

you nodded, unable to find the words to respond. there was no need for words anyway—not when the marks he’d left on your skin spoke louder than anything you could say.

lewis exhaled slowly, his forehead resting against yours for a brief moment before he straightened, his hands sliding down to your waist. he adjusted your dress, his touch surprisingly gentle given the roughness of moments before, and you felt a strange sense of intimacy in the way he took care of you in the aftermath.

when he was satisfied, he stepped back, his gaze lingering on your neck for a moment longer before he finally met your eyes. “come on,” he said quietly, his voice rough but steady. “let’s get out of here.”

you didn’t argue. you simply nodded, taking his hand as he led you out of the bathroom and back into the pulsing heart of the club. the flashing lights and pounding music felt almost surreal now, a stark contrast to the dark intensity of what had just happened between you.

as you left the club, the cool night air hit your skin, making the marks on your neck tingle. you glanced up at lewis, who was walking beside you with a calm confidence that belied the storm you knew was still simmering beneath the surface.

he looked down at you, his hand squeezing yours, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. it wasn’t the smug, self-assured smile he often wore in public—it was something softer, almost relieved.

“ready to go home?” he asked, his voice holding a hint of vulnerability that made your chest tighten.

you nodded, squeezing his hand in return. “yeah. let’s go home.”

and as you walked together through the quiet streets, the city lights casting a soft glow around you, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of certainty settle in your chest. whatever doubts or fears lewis had about losing you, they were unfounded. he didn’t need to mark you with bites or bruises to prove his claim—you were already his, in every way that mattered.

[hiddenreamers]

I was in your music video - f1 drivers x singer!reader

SUMMARY: They say that if a poet loves you, they will write you into immortality. But if you date a musician, they might write you into the Billboard 100. Which is exactly what happens to your driver boyfriend.

Featuring: Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz Jr, Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, George Russell

Note: Yes, two songs are sung by male artists. Yes, I'm going to ignore that fact and you should, too.

Lewis Hamilton

He's been in the room maybe five times. The space always felt strangely sacred to him - this is where you write, compose and practice songs with your band; this is where the magic, so to speak, happens. Walls are absolutely covered with tour posters, polaroids and printed-out articles. There's a large mirror that seems to be a message board considering all the sticky notes and words written with a marker. The only somewhat de-cluttered space is surrounding the setup. It's an unspoken testament to being a musician in a band.

There's a certain tension inside the driver. You've never asked him to listen to a song before it's finished. Sure, he has listened through your albums before they were officially released but it was always just that - a recording, not a live version. So what's different this time? Why is it vital he hears this song early?

Walking through the room, Lewis has to carefully watch where he's going. He doesn't want to accidentally break something by stepping on a cable or kicking a box with unknown contents. Inside a garage, he knows what not to touch but a recording studio and instruments are pretty much an unknown world to him.

Lewis is standing around a tad awkwardly, hands in pockets, when the bassist pushes a big black box closer to the driver.

"Have a seat." The musician points to the chest.

Lewis frowns. "On the box?" he asks, unsure. "Is that okay?"

"It's the Lucky Chest, Hamilton," the bassist announces. The other band members snicker at the title. "You have to sit on it."

"What's lucky about it?" Lewis inquires. More than the seating choice, he's interested in the reason for laughter.

"The first time we played at a big festival," the guitarist begins, her story slightly interrupted by her tuning the guitar, "we were sitting on it and listening to Green Day's stage, wondering 'how the fuck are we supposed to play after them?'."

"We were doing like a punk-rock tribute thing," adds the drummer. He's adjusting his seat and judging by the constant up-and-down movement, he can't make up his mind. The process is finally over when he reaches to tap the high-hat and nods to himself, content.

"After we finished our set," you take over retelling the story, "Billy Joe Armstrong came up to us and said we did great."

"So now it's the Lucky Chest," concludes the bassist.

Perhaps it's another testament to being a musician in a band when multiple people together tell one story without cutting details or creating chaos. A true harmony, though a joke a little on the nose.

"Well, I'm honoured," Lewis says. An airy giggle escapes him as he's still thinking about how easily teamwork comes to you and your band.

"You should be." The guitarist points her finger at him in a joking but accusatory way. Then she looks over her shoulder. "Whenever you're ready, drummer boy."

Music fills the room and Lewis is instantly captivated by you. He noticed it the first time he saw you on stage, how something inside you changes the moment you hear the instruments playing. Intensity, fire - passion in its most primal form. But this time around, the look in your eyes is different. You're no longer looking at the audience but him specifically; instead of singing a song, you seem to be telling him something.

So he listens.

I'm a desert, you're an ocean It's your motion that I need Without you I am broken, left to thirst out in the heat

And how strange he suddenly feels: all of the sentiments he already knows but now that you've put them into words for the whole world to hear, he can't help but find some revelation in them. For a moment, there's only the two of you and your confession of desire. Every word resonates with him and Lewis feels like he could say all of those things about you, too.

The song is far from over but he has already decided - he will listen to it before every race.

Lando Norris

Nothing seemed different about that day.

Lando is streaming while you're still at the studio. In an hour or so, you will come back, he will end the stream and the two of you will sit down to eat something. You will talk about your day, he will say something silly and both of you will laugh. Just like you always did.

To his credit, Lando couldn't have known about the song because you never told him. Some part of you thought it would be a bit dramatic to announce that you've written a song about him but can't play it yet because it's not finished. It would spoil the fun, wouldn't it? Therefore, you decided to tell Lando only after he listened to the final product. Perhaps you also wanted to seem a lot more nonchalant about the whole thing, planning on giving him just an off-hand comment of "oh, by the way, this one's about you". Life, however, rarely turns out the way we plan and that's exactly what happened that night.

If it was just one or two people calling Lando "honeybee" on the stream, he probably wouldn't even notice. But even he will pay attention when the comments are going on hundreds if not thousands.

He can't help but grow flustered at the pet name born out of his visceral fear of insects.

"Who told you that?!" he yells in a comically angry tone, a poor attempt at hiding embarrassment.

The comments come flooding again, explaining the situation only in variations of your name and the title Espresso. And like a detective following a crime, Lando immediately searches the internet.

"I feel lied to," he speaks up. "She didn't tell me she has a new song coming out. Why am I the last one to know? When I literally live with her? This is so unfair, I'm obviously the biggest fan, I should know first!"

Lando plays the music video. From the first line of "he's thinking about me every night", his bashfulness only gets worse. What starts as an excited smile, grows into a flustered, giggly mess. Although his pride is on the line, he can't deny any of the claims you make in the song. Yes, he couldn't sleep one night thinking about you and texted you about that. Yes, he does call you often even though he hates making phone calls. And yes, Lando Norris is, in fact, wrapped around your finger. What a horse is everyone can see and similarly, everyone can see and define who Lando is when it comes to his girlfriend:

"Simp?" he reads one of the comments. "Look, maybe I am but at the end of the day I'm dating her and you're not so who's the real loser here?"

Lando can only laugh his heart out when the chat gets flooded with identical comments: You.

"Okay, I admit. I'm down bad for my girlfriend and I'm proud of that."

Tomorrow's headlines are bound to be interesting...

Oscar Piastri

Although Oscar has seen you in musicals countless times, this situation feels a lot weirder and more uncomfortable. When he comes to watch your show, he's in the audience and you're on the stage. Now you're sitting side by side on the couch in your shared apartment, about to see your first movie. You're both the audience and the creator, which leaves you unsure how to act.

Unfortunately, your discomfort only grows. Oscar seems to be enjoying the movie but joy is not granted to you on this day. With each minute, you know your big part is coming. Oh God, what is he going to think?

Then, you suddenly pause the film. Oscar looks at you confused.

"There's something you need to know before you watch this scene and listen to the song," you say before he can ask you about your strange actions.

Oscar's frown only deepens. "You're making it sound really serious."

"Because it is. The thing is... " you hang your voice, unsure how to put words together. How do you tell someone this without making things awkward? "This is more embarrassing than I thought it would be but the song you're about to hear, I wrote it thinking about you."

He's trying to smile but the shadow of embarrassment on his face doesn't go unnoticed. You can only hope it's good kind of nervous.

The movie is resumed. As your discomfort is barely tolerable, you're looking away from the TV, fidgeting ever-so-slightly. Once or twice, you glance at Oscar, trying to see his reaction. The problem is, he's sitting unbelievably still. True, Oscar Piastri tends to be on the calmer side but right now it feels off. As if lost deep in thought, he appears to be diligently contemplating the scene in the movie; picking apart the words that came to your mind while thinking about him.

When the song comes to an end, you pause the film once more. A tense silence falls between you and Oscar, both longing to say something and yet neither willing to.

"So?" you begin hesitantly. "What do you think?"

Oscar shifts awkwardly. "Erm... I don't really know what to say."

A nervous giggle escapes your lips. "It's really sappy, I know." You try to downplay the situation, fearing that his reaction is born out of something negative. Does he think you're clingy? Obsessive? Too dramatic to handle?

"It's not that," he quickly denies. "Well, okay, it is kind of sappy but it's good sappy?" Oscar's tone raises slightly, revealing that he's unsure whether it's the right choice of words.

"Good sappy?" you repeat.

It feels as though woe has weaved a nest inside your viscera. "Good sappy" sounds like a lovely, diplomatic euphemism used not to hurt someone's feelings.

"Yeah, it's just..." Oscar doesn't finish his sentence. He runs his hand through his hair, then rubs the back of his neck nervously. Finally, he looks at you but not in a way you're familiar with. There's something ethereal in his gaze, a glint of inexplicable emotion that would escape a less observant eye. "It's really beautiful," he says. "The fact that you feel this way about me?" You could swear there are tears in his eyes as he lets out a flustered giggle. "I can die happy now."

Carlos Sainz

As old tradition entails, the Thursdays before a race weekend are meant for golfing. And who is Carlos Sainz to not give in to the custom?

He's sitting in his car, impatiently ploughing through the traffic of the city centre. Why are people out and about at this time, anyway? Shouldn't they be at work? Wanting to get his mind off of the fact that he's going to be quite late to the game, Carlos turns on the radio. The man is mindlessly skipping through the stations until something catches his attention - the announcer introduces you as today's guest.

"Hello again, pretty girl," Carlos says to himself. A small smile enters his face.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you," the radio host begins. "Unfinished Business is just the album I've been waiting for this year. And not only me! Have you seen Billboard 100 lately?"

Your flustered giggle is just as adorable as always. "Yesterday evening, I think?"

The broadcaster sighs dramatically. "Then you have ancient news. I have the site pulled up now and check it every few minutes. Let me tell you, Unfinished Business has climbed twenty spots since morning."

"Oh, shoot."

"Indeed." The announcer laughs and Carlos does with him. It's such a familiar theme for the driver - you being more humble than you really should be, surprised by the success you entirely deserve.

"Now, to address the elephant in the room or rather on the music charts. Over and Over Again is like a love letter all of us have written but never sent. Tell me all about it!"

"I guess 'love letter' is a pretty good description," you explain. Curious, Carlos turns up the volume. "For some time, I was trying to put my thoughts together and tell someone how I felt but never could quite do it. I can write good songs but in real life, I'm pretty terrible at speaking my mind and talking about feelings. I just don't want people to misunderstand, you know?"

"What are you saying, hermosa?" Carlos asks aloud, although there's no one to answer him.

"At least you can write a song about it! We regular folk are stuck with memes and playlists."

"Thank God, I can!" You laugh and, as embarrassing as it may sound, Carlos feels a sudden warmth spreading through his chest. "I was struggling with saying what I wanted to say to him, so at some point, I just decided I could put those words and feelings into a song. He likes to listen to the radio when he's driving so he might even be listening right now."

Although nothing bad or negative is going on, Carlos feels himself growing tense, nervous. There's no doubt the "he" you keep mentioning is him but what exactly is it you've been trying to tell him? Is there something he's missing?

"Did you tell him you've written a song about him?" the radio host asks.

"It might have slipped my mind," you answer coyly.

The announcer only laughs. "Oh dear, what a way to find out! Without further ado, let's hear your love letter to the mysterious man. I really hope he's listening to us right now. Don't you dare change the station, you lucky guy."

To his own surprise, Carlos recognizes the melody - you've been humming it for weeks now. But as you begin singing, the words leave him in disbelief. Do you really... mean all of that?

Carlos is lost in the song, feeling as though the lyrics aren't just lyrics but your genuine confession; a true love letter, as you have said yourself. He's brought back to reality only when the car behind him honks and Carlos is a hair's breadth away from picking a fight with the other driver. Nothing requires more haste or attention than his girlfriend exclaiming to the whole world that he will always be the one for her and that she will love him over and over again.

Charles Leclerc

You don't hear Charles coming in - you're too lost in your own thing to remember there's an entire world outside of the song and the piano in front of you. On the other hand, Charles doesn't announce his arrival as he doesn't want to disturb you. To be perfectly honest, he's a little too curious to interrupt you. It happens very rarely that you practise outside of the studio and so Charles doesn't really get to hear your more casual singing, not an embellished performance for the audience.

As quietly as he can, he makes his way towards you. Charles casually leans against the doorframe, your back turned to him as you continue playing the piano. He barely bites back the smile that creeps onto his face whenever you effortlessly sing the high notes - they are difficult for professionals and yet you execute them so cleanly, they appear almost too easy.

The lyrics haunt him but in a truly delicious way. A particular note of sincerity in your voice makes the words stick to him like rain does to a reckless passerby. Sure, they will slip away, although not before drenching him; their vital piece will forever lie with him.

When the song comes to an end, Charles (without thinking twice) gives you a hefty applause. The surprise makes you almost fall off the chair.

"Shit, you scared me!" you yell at him. It takes a couple deep breaths and your boyfriend's apologies, to collect yourself. "How much did you hear?"

He shrugs, suddenly realizing that he wasn't supposed to hear even one note of the song. "Pretty much all of it."

Your expression must not be joyful as Charles resumes his apologies and poor attempts at excuses. Suddenly, you cut him off. "How'd you like it?"

For a moment, he only hums and mindlessly knocks at the doorframe, looking for the right words.

"I loved it," he confesses. A strange tension in his voice proves he's telling the truth. "It's a beautiful song."

"Good," you answer absentmindedly. Quietly, you nod to yourself before looking back at Charles, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "It would really suck if you hated a song about yourself, you know?"

His eyes grow wide and Charles seems to forget about blinking for a good minute. Judging by the changes in his expression, you can tell the exact thought process he's experiencing: realizing you've written a song about him, joy caused by that, remembering the lyrics and finally taking them personally.

The more observant fans might notice a new addition to his helmet: "Claire de Lune" written in elegant lettering.

George Russell

Common sense might tell you that a race car driver must have no fear. And that would be correct, although quite imprecise. They must have no fear on track, yes, but daily life is quite different from racing, isn't it? Or maybe George is discovering a range of emotions he has not known before.

Your relationship is fresh but that isn't to say it's not serious. The weight of the connection the two of you share is a major part of the reason why George has been dead set on taking things slow. The other part is him knowing what media circus will play out once the news breaks. It's hard to blame him for wanting to keep at least some aspect of his life private, especially one that means so much to him.

As understanding as you are, George's apprehensiveness is tiring. You perfectly understand his reasoning and to some degree share the sentiment but at the same time, you are just somebody in love - you itch to scream it to the whole world. Or, at the very least, share a picture of the two of you. Both of you haven't been middle-schoolers for quite some time now, so why act like ones?

George, like the supportive boyfriend he is, loves to see you in your element. He watches the music videos, yet, but he much prefers the dance practice videos, where you're visibly enjoying each second of the choreography. Therefore, when you upload a new dance video for your song, he's probably the first person to play it.

It's a catchy tune that makes even the most boring people want to dance a little. With his head moving to the rhythm, George doesn't focus much on the lyrics until something in the second verse catches his attention:

So used to hiding We built our kingdom around The right timing

The lines, understandably, hit a little too close to home to be a pure coincidence. Now suspicious, George replays the video - this time, he's actually listening to the words instead of focusing on your dancing. Any hesitation that he's the true recipient of the song is gone with the first line of "Say you want me". The desperation in your voice is simply too candid to be just an act for the sake of the performance.

With the song loudly playing on a loop, George is scrolling through his phone's gallery in search of the best pictures of the two of you. He can't help but mouth the lyrics along with your singing, only to randomly giggle as the thought once again settles - it's about him.

Your phone can't stop vibrating. The notifications are coming nonstop. What on Earth happened? Upon opening Instagram, the mystery is solved. The internet seemed to be set on fire when George posted a series of pictures of the two of you with a caption that earned a giddy chuckle from you: "Setting us in motion".

Max Verstappen

Max and you both understand how much support can change. Sometimes just knowing that this other person is out there, watching and cheering, can change everything. As such, the two of you try to attend each other's events as much as you can. Unfortunately, the universe isn't always kind and you end up on the opposite ends of the world. The only support you can offer then is watching the live-streamed event - just like Max is doing right now.

He's sitting in his driver's room in Singapore, while you're at an award show in the USA. Quite the distance. There's something unbearably humbling about having to watch your performance like most of the world, when Max is, without a doubt, not most of the world.

In the back of his mind, Max is still thinking about the conversation he had with you earlier. Although he never misses your performances, you made it a point to tell him to watch this one. In your own words, he's supposed to look out for something fun, like a detail that will make this show different from the others. So as though he is a hawk, or more of a vulture, Max is hyperanalizing everything that's happening on the screen. He's not about to miss your little surprise.

The song begins and as much as he wants to enjoy watching you in your element, Max is a missile on a mission. Nothing specific seems to catch his eye but that t-shirt you're wearing...

Max knows it all too well. Theoretically, it's his t-shirt but considering you wear it more often than he does, it's practically yours. Now it's styled to fit the concept and image of your bandmates but the colour, the logo, the number, are all unmistakeable. Considering how much you're touching the article of clothing, compared to other dancers, he's convinced he's found what he was meant to look for.

Before he can wonder why you've chosen to wear his t-shirt for your performance, it's you who gives him the answer through the lyrics:

I feel like for the first time I am not faking Fingers on my buttons and now you're playing Master of anticipation, don't you keep it all to yourself

Max Verstappen doesn't get flustered but if he did, he'd be beyond flustered right now. The realization hits him like a derailed train - the song that everyone has been obsessed with through the summer and that has pretty obvious sexual lyrics is actually about him.

And if he did get flustered, the emotion would be rather short-lived, giving way to pride. After all, the core meaning of the song is that he's a generous lover, right? Clearly, he's been taking good care of his girlfriend.

Now, each sung line of "Just the touch of your love" makes Max all the more frustrated that the two of you are so far apart. He's earned his title of "Master of anticipation" and he intends to keep it.

[norrisleclercf1]

Dad!lewis coming home from race week to spend time with his kids

Idk I’m just in a dad!lewis mood

A/N: Dad!Lewis is adorable

It was oddly a little too quiet in the Hamilton household and with twins, it was never good especially when it came to Ivy and Kai. Your little terrors you wouldn't trade the world for, but still with it being quiet at 8am, you knew something was up.

Sitting up, you listen for the twins, who at 6 were old enough to get up and come bother you to get up and start your morning routine. But, it was a little different, as Lewis, was currently away for a race with Ferrari. It was still weird to say that honestly, it's been 2 years and you still couldn't wrap your head around having to wear the glorious red.

Climbing out of bed you move gently, listening for any sounds of the kids, but none alert you, which just makes your alarm bells go off. Stepping through the house you stop, hearing the TV on low, Kai, your genius little boy had turned on the TV, again. "Kai," You whisper but stop being greeted by the sight of your babies and their father curled up on the couch.

Lewis was still wearing his team kit, and the kids wearing their pj's and stuffies next to them. "Lewis," You whisper, gently kneeling and rubbing the back of your hand against his cheek. Lewis snorts, and slowly wakes up and smiles, his arms tightening on his babies. "Hi, lovely," You smile at his accent, thick from sleep as Ivy rests her head on his chest tugging on her little bunny that Nico gave her when she was born.

"What are you doing on the couch?" You whisper and Lewis chuckles and cranes his head to look at the time and sighs. "I came home late, and the kiddos heard me. I was taking my shoes off on the couch when they crept out. "I didn't want to wake you, and they got so excited they couldn't go back to sleep. So, I turned on a Disney movie and I guess we all just passed out," He smiles, it was a moment he'll remember forever.

"I'll start on breakfast," Lewis shakes his head no, and pulls you onto the couch, you're careful not to fall on Kai who was tucked close into his father's side. You move him carefully as he cuddles into you and Lewis holds his family close. Sighing you place your head on his chest as he closes his eyes again.

"I love you," He whispers, kissing your temple gently as you smile letting the morning sun rest on you like a cat. "I love you too, Kai was happy you got a podium," You whisper and he practically glows hearing that. "And Ivy?" He whispers and you giggle, "Sad that Max wasn't there," Lewis shakes his head not knowing where his daughter's love for Max came from.

"Yes, but she was still happy you did well," Lewis chuckles and kisses your cheek, "And you?" He smirks, "Careful Hamilton," you say sternly that makes him pout. "Whatever, get you later," He pats your bum gently and you both go still as the kids move around before calming down. "If you wake them, I'll kill you," Lewis has to bite down his laugh and nods his head. "Yeah trust me, they've been sleeping for 10 hours, I'm terrified."

[w1nchesterz]

DIRTY LITTLE SECRET

lewis hamilton x russell!reader

in which lewis hamilton sneaks around with his teammates older sister however it doesn’t end up how she wants it to.

MASTERLIST

warnings: 18+, angst, fluff, age gap, smut: fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy), fingering, needy sex.

word count: 3.2k

————————————————————

Despite being George Russell’s older sister, the girl had still fallen so madly in love with his much older teammate. He was 39, whilst the girl was only 30.

She had first properly met the older man in 2022, when her younger brother had joined the Mercedes team.

As soon as her eyes fell onto him, his long sleeves rolled up to the elbow, his brown, gorgeous puppy-dog eyes. His dark skin had beautiful freckles dusting his cheeks, a short beard framing his face which he often ran his fingers through whenever he concentrated.

His hair was in dreads, however they always seemed to be tied up into a high ponytail. He had a few tattoos, and piercings which ultimately gave off the ‘bad boy’ aura he seemed to desperately try to pull off.

As he spoke to Toto Wolff, the team principal, he cracked a few jokes — which caused Lewis to laugh loudly.

It was a beautiful sound which filled her ears, her own lips twitching up into a smile as her eyes fell on his large smile, the small gap in his teeth evident.

George, who was stood by her side scoffed loudly, his hand resting on his hip. His sudden noise pulled the girls attention away from the majestic man, and onto her brother.

“What?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowed into a frown as she shook her head gently.

George couldn’t help but laugh, at the confused expression that was etched onto her features, “Sorry, I just find it hilarious how you’re drooling over Lewis.”

It was now her turn to scoff, as she quickly dug her elbow deep into her younger brother’s ribs, a scowl on her face, “I am not drooling.”

“Are you sure? I see a little uh…” He pointed to around her mouth, wiggling his finger about as a smug smile tugged at his lips, “Drool, there. Just there.” He teased, and his sister was quick to slap his hand away.

Lewis watched from afar, a close-lipped smile tugging on the corners of his lips as he watched the interaction go down between the siblings.

The girl felt his gaze practically burning into her skin, and she soon straightened up, fixing her hair before rolling her eyes at her younger brothers antics.

She looked over to Lewis, catching his gaze. She could feel her cheeks grow hot beneath his eyes, but she pushed the flutter of her stomach down as she mouthed, “Good luck!” Before pointing at her brother with a small giggle.

She earned a laugh from Lewis, and she said her goodbye to her younger brother before leaving the Mercedes garage.

————————————————————

It was six months later, when the girl was awoken at the dead of night by the ping of her phone.

Confused at who was messaging her so late at night, she opened her phone to see a message from an unknown number.

Hey, is this Y/N?

She furrowed her eyebrows, quickly typing a quick response.

Yeah, who’s this?

She anxiously bit at the inside of her lip as she awaited a response, her heart beating so loud she could hear it in her ears.

Sorry, it’s Lewis. Did I wake you?

It was past midnight, and she could feel the tiredness of being awoken by his message behind her eyes. The light of the screen burning into her eyes, making her have to blink it away every now and again.

No, it’s fine. Did you need something?

She quickly typed back, and she saw that he had opened the message almost immediately, but didn’t respond for a few minutes. She saw how the typing bubble appeared, disappeared, then reappeared multiple times.

She sighed, shutting her phone off and stuffing it into her pyjama shorts pocket, getting up from her bed to grab herself a bottle of water.

By the time that she had grabbed herself a bottle of water from the fridge, and made her way over to her white couch, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket and she immediately assumed it to be Lewis.

You really are slow, aren’t you?

The girl couldn’t help but let out an offended gasp, she didn’t appreciate his attitude in the slightest.

Pardon?

She scoffed, rolling her eyes before slamming her phone down onto the plush cushion of the couch, annoyance bubbling in her chest.

Yeah, she had a bit of a crush on him, but she had never expected him to speak to her like that.

It took no longer than two minutes for a response back, and she sighed with annoyance as she heard her phone ping for what felt like the 100th time that night.

It’s not what I need, it’s who I need.

Her eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown, she didn’t know whether he wasn’t making any sense, or she was that tired that it wasn’t going into her head right.

Lew, what are you on about?

She stared at the message, trying to make sense of it before her phone buzzed again within the space of a few seconds.

God dammit, Y/N.

It’s you. I need you.

The girls heart skipped a beat, the one thing she had wanted for 6 months straight had started to come true.

For real?

She didn’t even have enough time to turn her phone off before she got a response.

God, yes. Come over.

Room 406.

I’m on my way.

She smirked, blushing profusely at her phone as if she was back in high school, getting giddy over her hallway crush asking her out or something along those lines.

She quickly got herself ready, dressing into clothes that exposed her best features — a short skirt that exposed her upper thighs, something she had caught Lewis staring at on multiple occasions, and a blouse which she left the top buttons undone, revealing her cleavage.

She knew the clothes would be ripped from her, ending up in a pile on his floor but she didn’t care, she was finally getting what she had wanted for so long.

She ran a brush through her sleep-mangled hair before rushing from her hotel room, walking down the hall to his room, which luckily was only a few doors down.

Here.

She messaged him quickly, raising her arm to knock on the door. Just before her knuckles made contact with the door, it swung open on its hinges, with enough force to be pulled off.

A loud gasp escaped her parted lips at the sight of him, the familiar heat pooling between your legs. He was shirtless, showing off his perfect, tatted abs, and only sported a pair of grey joggers which easily showed the imprint of his dick.

Her eyes widened at the sight, she could tell he was big. Bigger than average.

Lewis quickly grasped his large hands around her delicate wrist, pulling her desperately into the hotel room before slamming the door behind him.

“Fuck, gorgeous.” He rasped under his breath, instantly reaching his hand around the base of her neck, the other gently caressed her face.

The Russell girl sucked in a sharp breath, staring into his chocolate brown eyes, him staring into her blue ones.

His juicy lips were parted, breathing heavily as he admired the beauty of his teammates sister in front of him.

George was going to kill him. But that was the least of his worries as he now had her where he wanted, in his hotel room, about to fuck.

He licked his lips, staring down at her plump ones, as he inched forward, his breath hot on her cheek.

He ducked his head slightly, placing open-mouthed kisses along her neck, occasionally nipping at the skin, leaving purple splotches behind.

She pushed her head forward slightly, their lips connecting in a horny clash of teeth and tongue. She could sense the older man’s desperation in the way his arms snaked around her waist and pulled her close, her inner thigh resting against his hard dick.

She let out a gasp as the feeling of his clothed dick against her bare thigh sent shivers down her spine and added to the warmth pooling between her legs.

“You look so good f’me.” Lewis murmured between the passionate kisses, his hand sneaking beneath her shirt.

He looked up at her to ask for permission, and as soon as he received a nod as an answer, his hands ventured further up her top, and beneath her bra.

He massaged her breasts, pinching at her nipples which earned a half-gasp, half-moan from her mouth.

“Fuck. You don’t know what you do to me.” He mumbled, continuing his harsh attack on her nipples, “God, the amount of times i’ve had to touch myself, because you’ve been walking about in those short skirts and silly little crop tops.”

The girls cunt clenches around nothing, and she let out a soft whiny whimper as she immediately thought of Lewis, fucking his hand because of herself.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, Lew.” She whined, and Lewis regretted not asking her sooner.

“Should’ve asked you sooner, hm?” Lewis asked with a smirk of his lips, and the girl nodded as another whimper spilled from her lips.

“Can I?” He asked, looking down at her. His eyes were dark, full of lust as his hand hovered over her blouse, asking to remove the offending item of clothing.

Her cheeks blushed profusely, and she nodded again.

“C’mon, words, princess. Use them.” He tsked, raising an eyebrow in her direction as she clenched her thighs together as an attempt to release the pooling arousal in her panties.

“Please.” She begged, a whiny tone to her voice as he quickly attacked her clothes, unbuttoning his clothes as if his life depended on it. He then trailed his hands up and down her body, quickly unzipping the skirt as if he couldn’t get it off fast enough before he tossed it to the floor alongside her blouse.

Without any warning, he quickly ducked down momentarily and scooped her up, earning a loud yell that escaped from her lips. A mischievous smirk played onto his lips as he looked down at the girl in his arms.

“My princess needs a bed, no?” He asked rhetorically, in response to the girl’s yelp and giggling.

Once they reached his bedroom, he slowly and gently lowered her to the plush bedding.

“I need you.” Lewis groaned, a deep, guttural noise that just adds to the pool of arousal in her panties. She needed him.

Lewis lowered himself between the V of her legs, his finger hooking against the waistband of her lace panties, and he looked up at her once more, asking for permission again.

“Yes.” She nodded with a soft giggle, and as soon as he removed the thin piece of lace, she could feel his hot breath against her sodden cunt.

Another half-moan, half-gasp left her mouth as he held onto her thighs, keeping them open.

He ran a finger along the lips of her pussy, collecting the slick as a groan left his lips, “So fucking wet already, baby.”

He instantly attached his lips against her clit, causing her back to arch up from the bed. The sound of her moans filled the room as he lapped at her cunt like it was the first time he’d eaten in days.

Each time he paused to take a breath he would mutter something along the lines of, “My good girl” and “So delicious, baby.” Each praise he made added to the heat between her legs, and Lewis could feel the way her aching hole tightened around nothing.

Every now and again, he pushed his tongue into her hole, which caused the girl to jerk up on instinct.

Lewis moaned into her pussy, the vibrations going straight to her core, her walls clenching around his tongue.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He muttered, and she started fisting the sheets beside her, as if it would do anything.

“Fuck, Lew! I’m so close!” She cried out, as he continued his torturous attack on her clit.

The moan that escaped her lips when he pushed a finger inside sounded downright pornographic as he started to curl his finger upward. Each time it hit her sweet spot, threatening to push her over the edge.

“Please, Lew..” She moaned loudly, the familiar knots forming in her stomach as she got closer.

Lewis’ eyes were transfixed on the sight before him, his finger pumping in and out of her tight pussy.

Something he had only fantasised about.

“Cum for me, pretty girl.” He spoke, his voice had a low gravelly tone to it as he continued his malicious attack on her clit.

As soon as those words left his perfect lips, her orgasm washed over her, her juices spilling onto his fingers.

“Just like that, my good girl.” He praised as she came, her back arching from the white sheets of his bed as her legs shook.

If she hadn’t just came, she probably would’ve at the praises alone.

“Fuck, Lew.” She muttered, her hair sticking to her skin as she relaxed into the soft bedding.

The older man pulled his finger from the girls sodden cunt, and he stuck it into his mouth, eating up her release from his own finger.

“Taste so good, baby.” He praised, pulling his finger from his mouth with a soft pop,“God, I can’t wait to stuff you full with my dick.”

“Please.” She begged, her mouth watering at the idea of his dick inside of her. Once the words left her mouth, Lewis was quick to pull down his grey joggers, leaving him in his boxers.

Her mouth opened slowly at the sight of him, his abs, thick thighs and the bulge in his boxers was very evident.

“God, princess, I’ve needed this all night.” He groaned as he took a step closer to his girl on the bed, he ran his hands up and down her basically naked body.

“We don’t need this anymore, do we?” He laughed gently, his arms snaking around her bra clasp as she shook her head in agreement. He removed the black lace and tossed it to the floor carelessly.

“I need you.” The girl spoke as her fingers played with the waistband of his boxers, the same way he had done with hers, “Can I?”

“Of course, baby.” He groaned as his cock sprang free from his boxers, and the girl couldn’t help but gasp at his size.

“Like what you see?” He hummed as he climbed on top of her, trailing kisses from her belly button all the way up to her collarbone. He nipped at the skin, sucking harshly which caused purple splotches to form along her skin.

“Mhm.” She nodded eagerly, feeling his hard cock resting between her thighs, needing it. Needing him.

“Fuck, you don’t understand how often I’ve thought about fucking you, just like this.” He breathed heavily into her ear, causing a soft whimper to leave her swollen lips.

“Do it, please.” She begged, looking up at him through her lashes, a pleading expression evident on her features.

Lewis lined himself up, before pushing himself in slightly. The gaspy groan that left his lips was beautiful, and it sent jolts of electricity through her body.

The sting of the slight stretch was delicious, and she let out a moan as she nodded for him to continue.

Once he finally bottomed out, his breathing became heavy in her ear as he let out a string of praises, “Fuck. You’re so tight, taking me like a good girl. My good girl.”

The feeling of her tight, bare cunt around his large cock felt heavenly, and he couldn’t help but groan as he pulled himself out slightly, just to thrust back in.

As he thrusted in and out of her, he leant forward, continuing his meticulous attack on her neck — leaving sloppy kisses along her neck.

Loud moans from the girl and grunts from Lewis echoed around the girl, the sounds of praises and slapping skin filling the room.

Neither of them cared about the age gap as he relentlessly pounded into her tight cunt, neither of them cared about how her brother would hate Lewis for what he was doing to his sister right now.

All they cared about was each other.

She let out a loud moan as he continued to hit her g-spot, ramming into it with force each time which caused her to teeter over the edge of orgasm.

“Fuck. Want you to cum on my cock.” Lewis groaned into her ear, his breath hot on her exposed neck.

“I’m so close, Lew! Please!” She babbled, her moans becoming louder and louder as he messily thrusted into her even tighter pussy.

He moved his hand down to her clit, rubbing it harshly which caused a slight scream to leave her lips. The added pleasure caused her back to arch from the bed once more, her walls pulsating around his cock.

Lewis was impossibly close to cumming, both breathing heavy as they neared to their orgasms.

“Fuck, baby, just like that. Gonna cum in this sweet pussy, yeah?” Lewis grunted as he thrusted into her messily, and she nodded frantically at the idea of him filling her up with his cum.

As he groaned into her ear, he pushed her over the edge as he added more pressure to her clit.

Her eyes were screwed shut as she came over his cock, letting out a loud cry. Her body shook, her back arched and Lewis let out a loud groan as he spilled into her, a mixture of their releases leaking out of her hole.

“Good girl, you did so good f’me.” His breathing heavy as he tried to catch his breath.

Once he caught his breath, he quickly lifted himself up, disappearing momentarily before returning with her clothes that he placed on the edge of the bed and a damp washcloth to clean her up.

As he leant over her, he bit at his lip anxiously, which caused her to sit up with furrowed brows, “Is something wrong, Lew?” He hesitated for a moment, helping her clothe herself.

“No, no..” He mumbled, sighing deeply before he decided to say what was eating at him, “You can’t tell anyone about this.”

Those words alone caused her blood to run cold, her face dropping from her post-orgasm glow to a look of hurt.

“What?” She asked, her heart sinking.

He noticed the broken look in her eyes, and he felt his own heart sink slightly. But no one could find out, especially not George.

“If this gets out, George wouldn’t forgive me, and given the circumstances…” He trailed off, hinting at the 9 year age gap between them, “It wouldn’t end well if everyone found out.“

He reached out for her hand, and she reluctantly accepted it, her heart still aching for the man in front of her. All she wanted was him, to be loved by the man who only wanted sex, and not to be his dirty little secret.

For months after, the two snuck around — because she believed that having some of Lewis was better than none.

————————————————————

[cartierre]

CHIHIRO | lh44

synopsis: and if all is too late, is there still a way to salvage what we once called love?

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader (formerly), theo james x fem!reader (mentioned) warnings: angst, heartbreak, (some) vulgar language, lots of dialogue, no use of y/n word count: 2.1k

author's note: yes this is inspired by billie eilish's song 'chihiro' and also a bit by nicole's and lewis' relationship/break up! tried to be experimental, please give me your honest opinion about this i beg you. this is also not proof read since i hate reading my own stuff!

You’re fine. 

Everything’s fine.

You’re so close.

No one can take this away from you now.

Taking a deep breath, the only thing you could concentrate on were your shaky hands in front of you, the many voices behind you overlapping and blurring into each other. You couldn’t distinguish your mother’s voice from your sister’s, or your bridesmaid’s from your friend’s. Your dad was out there somewhere, getting everyone to take their destined place to take one worry off your mind. 

The dress you picked out months ago suddenly starts to suffocate you, the white blinding your eyes in an uncomfortable manner. You couldn’t decipher what happened. A minute ago you felt like the most beautiful woman on earth and the next you felt like ripping off your own skin. 

You have cold feet.

No, no I don’t.

“I think I need some fresh air.”

The voices behind you stopped at once. There was a split second of awkward silence before you could hear some feet shuffling over to you. Your mother’s concerned face appeared in your view. You could tell she tried to hide her worry. 

“Are you sure my darling?” She asked. You just nodded without looking into her eyes.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Don’t worry.”

Don’t worry, your daughter is just having a panic attack.

“Should Savannah accompany you?” She looked at your sister, waving her over to help you up. You shook your head no. 

“I just need a moment to calm down from all the excitement.” You lied to their faces, sending them your most believable smile you had in store. You were a great liar, the perks of being an actress. 

Throwing over a soft robe to at least conceal some of the wedding dress, you hurried out of the suffocating room. You smiled and nodded at some of the people you passed by, trying to hold up your act of a happy bride. This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life after all.

Getting out of the small house next to the main one, you fled the eyes of the guests and escaped into the big, blossoming garden, finding your way into the massive maze that adorned the centrepiece. The old mansion behind you disappears from your sight and with each step away from the buzzing preparations of the wedding, your breath starts to normalise again. 

Bending over and holding yourself up by your knees, you caught your breath. The heavy feeling started to disperse, your mind clearing up. Closing your eyes, you tried to focus on your surroundings.

The mild wind breezed through your hair and caressed your face, you could hear the leaves from the many hedgerows making up the maze and the water splashing softly against the fountain. Birds chirped in the distance and you could faintly make out some people’s voices up at the mansion. 

And some footsteps approaching you.

“The centrepiece of the hedge maze might not be the most convenient hiding spot.”

You tensed, your eyes snapping open and you straighten your back. He was behind you, so he couldn’t see the shock written clearly all over your face.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” You still hadn’t turned around. 

“It would be rude to turn down a wedding invitation without a good reason.” He answered, and you could hear his steps getting louder and louder behind you.

He slowly came into view. You had yet to turn your head into his direction, but from the side you could see him sitting down on one of the stone benches next to you. 

Finally, you turned your whole body to him. He wore a black suit, classic yet he made it seem so chic. His hair was braided back, his beard trimmed neatly and you could see some of his tattoos peeking out from underneath. Gold jewellery adorned his ears, his neck and hands.

He looked absolutely ethereal.

“And I figured if you didn’t want me to be here, you wouldn’t have invited me.”

You felt your body burn out of embarrassment. You didn’t answer him, you just kept staring at him with your most neutral face you could muster. 

“Theo was the one who suggested it.” 

He chuckled, and part of you wanted to melt right there. 

“He’s always been a gentleman.”

Silence. Birds chirping, leaves blowing, water splashing, the occasional yell from someone up the mansion. 

“I see you’ve got the venue you always wanted.” He looked around. “The waiting list must’ve been long.”

“They made an exception for us.” You kept your answers to a minimum.

“Right.” He nodded and kept admiring your surroundings. “The perks of being rich and famous.”

His eyes found yours again, you felt your heart stop for a second before returning to a rather fast speed. You hoped you kept your cool at least from outside.

“You look beautiful.” His eyes soften, the smile on his lips genuine.

“Thank you.” You gave him a nod.

“Theo is a lucky man.”

You could’ve been that lucky man.

“So they say.” 

He chuckled again. “You used to be more talkative.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to hold a conversation with you.” He laughed at your words, shaking his head.

“Say the words and I leave.”

You kept silent. He smiled.

“You have cold feet.” You felt like an arrow just entered right in the middle of your guts. “That’s why you’re out here and not up there.”

He analysed your body language. 

Fuck, he’s always been good at reading you like an open book.

“You’re scared.” He finalised his conclusion. “I’m just figuring out why… You always wanted this. Big engagement, great wedding, grand marriage…” He placed his chin on his hands, his arms resting on his upper legs. “What are you scared of?”

You bit your lip, your arms felt heavy on your sides, your fingers started to fiddle with the material of the robe. You felt so naked in front of him, so insecure and exposed. Your breath starts to pick up again.

“What are you running from, my love?”

He felt your body language change up in pace, your neutral stance completely flipping over. He stood up, his face painted in worry as he approached you. “Hey, I didn’t mean-”

“Fuck you, Lewis!” You took a step away and he stilled instantly. “Don’t fucking call me your love!”

You breathed heavily, as if you were close to exploding from all the emotions flowing inside you. Maybe you were.

You’re fine. 

Everything’s fine.

You’re so close.

No one can take this away from you now.

You calmed yourself again.

The birds are chirping.

The leaves are blowing.

The water is splashing.

The wedding is happening.

“I’m sorry.” You apologised. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Lewis looked at you, you avoided his gaze. You could sense him sitting down again. 

“I think you swearing at me is the closest I’ve seen from the you I know.”

“Well, you don’t know me anymore.” You snapped. “You haven’t in years.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I guess I haven’t.”

You sighed too, your hands dropping to your sides again. You know you should just leave and return to your girls. They were probably already looking for you. 

Yet you took one step after the other and sat down next to him. 

“I am scared.” You confessed. You didn’t know why you were telling him this. Maybe because you felt like he was the only person you could talk to. “It was supposed to be you.”

Your mother would kill you for having such thoughts and your friends wouldn’t understand. Your sister would roll her eyes at you and god forbid your future mother-in-law knows about any of the doubts you had about marrying her son.

“I know.” His words made you smile sadly. 

You looked at him and he looked at you. You don’t think anyone has ever looked at you the way he did. No one, not even Theo.

“You were always meant to be a bride.” He twirled a strand of hair of yours between his fingers. “I just wasn’t meant to be a groom.”

You looked away and he let go of your hair, his hand lingering for a second in the air before dropping onto his lap. 

“I know.” Now he was the one smiling sadly.

You fiddled with the bow holding together your robe. Your thoughts were racing, but none made sense. 

“You shouldn’t be scared.” He took your hand in his, his fingers playing with your engagement ring. “You wouldn’t be wearing this if it was wrong to marry him.”

“Sometimes I catch myself thinking what ring I’d be wearing if you had been ready at the time.” You breathed out, leaning back against the bench. “And then I feel silly thinking that way about a man who has broken me in a way I thought I was never going to recover from it.” You snatched away your hand from his grip.

You heard him sigh next to you. He held his face in his hands and you could tell he was ashamed of his past actions. “I was an asshole.”

You chuckled at his words bitterly. “Yeah, you were.”

There was some understanding silence between you. This time it didn’t feel uncomfortable, no, more reassuring. He knew, you knew. There was no need to focus on your surroundings.

“I don’t think I want you at my wedding.” You breathed shakingly, unsure how he’d react to your words. You looked at him on your side. He was already staring at you. His eyes were sad, yet he understood you. He always did.

“Can you do me a favour?” He asked. “Can you show me your dress?”

Without any further words, you stood up and unveiled yourself from your robe. He sucked in a breath.

It wasn’t particularly extravagant. The simple cut hugging you perfectly as if it was custom made for you. Maybe because it was. The designer of your choice had outdone themselves, keeping it the exact same way you had envisioned it. 

Elegant, modern, ethereal.

It took Lewis a minute to compose himself. He never thought he’d see you in a wedding dress. Part of him regrets that he asked you to show yourself to him.

“You’re an angel.” You don’t look like an angel, you are an angel. You blushed.

You took your robe again, covering yourself up as much as you could. “Thank you.”

For a second you stood there and took a deep look at him. The way he sat there, it had changed. Before, he looked so confident, so sure of himself. After he saw you in your dress, you weren’t sure what to make of him.

He looked small.

“I should go.” You couldn’t bear it any longer. You’ve already talked too much to him.

Why were you still here? 

You turned around without waiting for his response. Taking the ends of your dress in your hand, you made sure to not get any dirt on it as you stepped away from the man you once loved. Once.

“I think-”

You staggered, halting in your movements. You were a few feet away from him, already at the entrance of the maze to make your way out of it. Turning around, you saw him as he stood up. 

“I think maybe I would’ve been ready.” He nodded unsure. “At one point.”

You stared at him, your lips pressed against each other. 

“I think I was overwhelmed by it all. My career, my team, you… That’s why I ran away.”

You kept staring at him without uttering a word, your dress still held up slightly. He continued.

“I think I see that vision of yours now.” He took a shaken breath. “It’s really beautiful.”

You felt your stomach twist and your hands grabbing the material of your dress more aggressively. Why did he tell you all this now? Was he trying to sabotage you? He’s done it once, you needed to make sure he wouldn’t do it again. Not this time, never again.

You cleared your throat. “I meant it, don’t come to my wedding.”

“Wait, I-”

“Lewis,” You interrupted him. “My love isn’t yours anymore. You’re the one who needs to let go now.”

And with that you turned your back to him, your face looking up at the mansion that stood upon you. Your future lay there. He couldn’t stop you anymore.

You’re fine. 

Everything’s fine.

You’re so close.

No one can take this away from you now.

You’ve never looked back again.

[pullupinarari]

The ones I would die for [LH]

author’s note: fluffy dad!Lewis, cheeky husband!Lewis, just a small thing about the first Ferrari impressions. this might be shit and it’s barely proofread!

beware: this gets a bit more suggestive towards the end!

• masterlist

wc: 2774 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

Being in Maranello feels different. In your heart, pumps the sensation of discovering a whole new world, the excitement of unveiling a new path in your life, one where you and your family will, for sure, be very happy. 

Today is the first time that Lewis will get to drive a Ferrari, for some simple tests, but still, it’s an important day for him, and for you. Seeing your husband in red for the first time was almost as if you were meeting his powerful presence for the first time again, seeing how good the color suits him, how happy and relieved he looks now, even in the middle of the nerves and anxiety running through his body, having to find out everything all over again. 

But having his family by his side, definitely makes it all so much easier. His mums, Carmen and Linda and his dad Anthony made sure to be present at their boy’s first test in a red car, meeting you and Grace inside the garage to watch him doing what he’s best at. 

There’s a feeling of happiness that could almost be palpable in the air, the most important people of Lewis’ life all sharing the lightest of hearts at the way all of you have been so warmly welcomed to the Ferrari family so far, almost feeling as if life is making up for everything that happened on the last few seasons of his career. 

The fans that didn’t want to miss their favorite driver’s first practice in the italian team, waved flags, cheered, chanted your husband’s name - and it does feel special, even if he’s just warming up to feel the car, and your eyes can’t help but shine bright at the images showing on the screen in front of you. 

In your arms, rests the ever-attentive toddler, Miss Grace Hamilton, who asked you to please help her choose her best outfit - insisting on wearing a red sweater and picking up some yellow ribbons in her small fingers for you to do her hair with them. Something about wanting to match daddy, as she kept mentioning. 

Close to her little body, the three-year-old is holding a small stuffed Ferrari horse that the team made sure to give her yesterday, after she visited the factory in her dad’s arms. Grace is a very curious kid, so he immediately thought of his daughter, to bring her along to meet every new thing and everyone at the factory with him, already turning all the attention to her as people would find her adorable and incredibly funny. And this isn’t new. Ever since your child was born, Lewis and her quickly became inseparable, so it’s usual to see his princess glued to the man’s hip. 

The session soon enough comes to an end, and once your husband is back in the garage, leaving the car, his instinct tells him to go meet you, so he can hold Grace in his arms and take you outside, to greet the fans that have been there, just to see him.

A small frown appears on Lewis’ features when he sees his little one fast asleep in your chest. 

- Take your mums with you, love. This is also a special day for them. - you tell him, a soft smile playing on your lips as you see him hugging the two women that are visibly moved by this moment in Lewis’ life.

And the sight is the most adorable thing ever: your husband, being cherished by the tifosi, and his two mums, both filming and taking pictures of this moment, their faces lighting up as they’re beaming with pride. It truly is heartwarming to see Lewis’ family enjoying these moments with him, something that doesn’t happen as much as he would like. 

After thanking the fans for the love they have been showing him, the driver comes back, arms on the two ladies’ shoulders, giving them a squeeze, thanking them for always being there for him, for making him the man he is today.

It’s an emotional day for everyone on Lewis’ side, but you know that he can’t wait until he’s back in your new house, so he can feel safe in the secluded comfort of your space, dedicating all his attention to his wife and daughter. 

Said and done. Once the door to your house closes behind him, Lewis finally lets out a sigh, feeling like he can let it all out, right now. The emotions, the anxiety, the restless nights he spent picturing this day, these moments. It’s done. It’s okay. He can finally allow himself to breathe correctly after overcoming the nerves of the first day at the new team. 

Grace is now awake, running around the house as soon as you put her down, excited for you to show her the gift that you mentioned earlier in the car ride back home, trying to win the girl’s attention when she started growing fussy.

- Here, pumpkin. - you said, couching down so you’re eye level with the little one. - Nanas got this for you. Do you like it? - you show her the small, custom made red Ferrari jacket that Lewis’ mums bought for their granddaughter, wanting Grace to be rigorously dressed for her daddy’s new era. 

Expressing an audible gasp, your daughter is immediately reaching for the piece of clothing, wanting to touch it with her own hands. Her mouth is agape, amazed by the red piece in front of her - matching daddy’s suit perfectly. 

- It’s so pretty!! Mummy, can you help me put it on, please? - the girl asks you, running to the nearest surface she can see her reflection in, looking to the oven door to try and see the final result of her outfit. Giggling, Lewis takes her in his arms, walking to a decent mirror so his baby can see herself.  - Look at you, bubs! You’re definitely rocking this outfit - he laughs at the silly faces his child does, kissing the girl’s temple as she asks him to put her down again. 

Running back to you, your daughter stops in front of your eyes, posing with her new jacket that she seems obsessed with already. Smiling at her actions, you are quick to snap a few pictures with your phone, sending them to your mums-in-law, informing them of how much Grace loved their gift. 

- You look great in red, princess. - Lewis says, joining you on the couch, his arm wrapping around your body instinctively while his lips form the widest smile at the sight of his happy baby. - I am matching you now, daddy! Can I have more red clothes? I only want to wear this color now. - the toddler blurts out, making both you and your husband chuckle in unison. - But you have so many nice clothes, love, in such pretty colors - Grace’s dad tries to reason with the three-year-old, who is fast to side-eye him. - Nah, those clothes don’t fit my personality anymore. I have to slay, daddy! And I slay in red - your daughter’s remark makes you burst out of laughter, replying ‘slayyyyy’ as your husband looks at you as if you had lost your mind. 

Whenever Lewis is away, you and Grace end up watching the most random videos on the internet of people commenting about clothes in a comic way - that’s how you found out that your kid has a very judgmental taste when it comes to fashion, and that’s how your child learned what ‘slay’ means. 

Furrowing his eyebrows and sighing, your husband moves so his lips are closer to your face. 

- I think you two need to go outside more and touch some grass when I’m not home, Jesus Christ - he whispers in your ear, making you laugh again, only for your sounds to be met with your husband’s giggles shortly after. 

Sighing softly, you wrap your arms around your husband’s neck, knowing how he must be craving some physical touch - one of his love languages. Gently massaging his shoulders, you see how he melts, slowly leaning his body further into yours, so he can have some more contact with your figure. 

Grace is quick to distract Lewis’ mind, climbing on her daddy’s lap to win his attention again. 

- Daddy, why were you driving slow today? - the girl asks him, making a soft smile appear on his face.  - Today was just a test, bubs. I went slower because daddy only wanted to feel the car and drive around for a bit, that’s all - Lewis explained, seeing the way his daughter’s eyebrows lifted, not believing his words.  - Is it because you’re old, daddy? Are you scared of the car going vroom vroom? - the toddler giggles teasingly, even while receiving a stern ‘Grace!’ from you, having warned her already that it’s not nice to say that her dad is old. 

But your soft touch on his skin is enough to make Lewis not bother about being called old again by his child. Instead, he just smiles, nudging the girl’s nose with the tip of his finger, making her shrink her small figure to hide her face. 

- You’re a menace, Miss Grace. I promise I’ll drive faster next time, okay? Do we have a deal? - he suggests, seeing her nod her head ‘yes’ at his offer.  - Yes, daddy! Because I can run faster than the car when you go slow! - she affirms, leaving her dad’s lap to get ready to show him her running abilities. 

Laughing more at her antics, Lewis teases his mini-version. 

- You can’t even run faster than me, girl. Your legs are so tiny, see? - he points at Grace’s body with a playful expression on his face. - Tiny, tiny legs - Lewis insists. 

Your daughter’s face grows angry, feeling competitive already to show her daddy how wrong he is. 

- Wanna bet? - the three-year-old tries her best to put on her most fierceful facial expression, surprising her dad with her seriousness. Still, he decides to play along. - Okay, miss. Stretch your tiny legs because you just won yourself a run through the corridor - your husband points to the long hallway of your house, before reaching to shake his daughter’s hand. 

The sight in front of you looks hilarious, seeing your baby girl and your husband stretching their bodies while looking competitively at each other, before you were signaling the beginning of their small race. 

Grace’s tiny body gives its all so she can start ahead of her dad, and Lewis gives small strides through the way, giving his daughter the advantage, before pretending to trip over his own feet, safely falling on the carpet floor when the toddler crosses the imaginary finish line. 

- Ohhh, you’re too fast for me to keep up, speedy Gracie- Lewis pretends to groan, stretching his hand for the little one to help him.  - See? I told you daddy! I’m veeeery fast! Faster than the car, so you need to go faster as well! - the girl advises him, acting like his race engineer, while her small hands try to help her dad off the floor. 

Getting up from his spot, Lewis picks up Grace, holding the toddler in his arms safely, kissing her forehead as he sighs after their mini run.

- You’re right, bubs. I should listen to your advice more often - he giggles, noticing the way she nods her head affirmatively. 

Moving back to the sofa, your husband’s body is quick to lean on yours again, safely holding his daughter while his head leans on your shoulder. Grace ends up calming down as well, too busy paying attention to each detail of her new jacket. 

Lewis leaves soft kisses on your skin from time to time, your fingers gently caressing his braids, until the most comfortable of all silences is surrounding the three of you, finally allowing yourselves to let all the emotions of the day settle down on your souls, realizing the importance of this day.

Soon enough, your daughter is fast asleep in Lewis’ chest, signaling it was bedtime for all of you - a deserving one, after all of today’s events. With a gentle kiss to her forehead after slowly changing Grace into her pink pajamas, trying his best not to wake her up, the man tucked his princess in her bed, wishing her the sweetest of dreams. 

In your new bed, you’re already waiting for your Ferrari driver to show up at the door, seeing the soft smile that shows up on his features as soon as he does, closing the door behind him. 

He’s still in his new red shirt, seeing how your eyes seem to shine a bit more when you look at him when he is wearing his new attire. And as he slowly starts to take off his clothes, changing into his pajamas as well, the soft smile quickly becomes a cheeky one, eyeing you while pulling the shirt off his body. 

- Like what you see? - he teases, a soft giggle escaping his lips as he sees the way your cheeks grow a bit more pink.  - You look so good in red - you confess, welcoming him beside you under the sheets, as he opens his arms for you. - I’m so happy for you. And so, so proud. 

An honest smile now breaks through his features, not expecting to hear these words right now, even if he knows damn well that this is how you feel. But still, hearing such a heartfelt statement from his wife, while your head is resting on his chest, your hand caressing his beard, in this moment that belongs only to the two of you… it warms his heart. 

- I wouldn't be able to do any of this without you, love. Especially with Grace and all, moving our family to a different country it’s already as hard as it is. I am only able to do what I love because you hold everything down for me. And I will always be so thankful to you, for this and for so much more. - his warm hand cups your cheek, bringing your face closer to his, so your lips can finally meet in a loving kiss. 

You take your time with each other, finally having some time for yourselves. Your tongues dance at a passionate rhythm, your fingers spread soft, thoughtful touches along the skin of his body, while he embraces your waist with his strong hands. It’s slow, romantic, and everything you two have been missing, in the midst of all the anxiety surrounding the thousand different things you had to prepare for the last few days.

Breaking the kiss to catch some air, Lewis’ nose nudges yours, continuously feeding himself off of your warmth. 

- You know baby, you look great in red too… - he whispers, his lips travelling down your neck, his slender fingers pulling your shirt up until he is able to reveal a part of the red lingerie that you are wearing.

Maybe you did it on purpose, wanting to prepare a nice surprise for your husband to end this special day, or maybe it was just a silly coincidence… Either way, he seems hungry for you, his head travelling alongside your collarbone now, trying to kiss your boobs, until he has had enough of the barrier created by the fabric of your loose shirt, finally pulling it out of your body completely. 

He looks at you with fire glistening in his eyes, as if he just got to see the most perfect and enticing goddess of all. Even after all these years, you can’t help but grow a bit shy at his intense gaze, biting down your lip in anticipation. 

- You, miss, are such a menace - he laughs softly in your ear before burying his face in your chest, kissing all over your boobs, making a sultry chuckle escape your lips. - I don’t know what you’re talking about - you say innocently, winking at him when he looks up at you.  - Yeah, and I’ll pretend I didn’t see you carefully choosing this set in the middle of all your lingerie this morning, when I left the shower - your husband lifted an eyebrow at you, seeing how you ran out of replies in a matter of seconds. 

He is the one biting your lip now, gently sucking on it while moving your body so he can tower over you.

- I might be a Ferrari driver now, but you’re still the only trophy I keep looking forward to touching, baby girl - he states, yearning to show you just how badly he has been missing you, how he desperately needs to make up for the last few days - definitely preparing a long night for the both of you.

[lillymmb]

pls can you do an established relationship lewis fic about reader who always has longs hair and goes drastically short and reader & lewis are obsessed w it

New hair, New wife

husband!lewis hamilton x wife!reader

warnings:none

a/n: thanks for the request babe it was so cute to write this bcs i love cutting my hair super short! Srry this is kind of short but I hope you like it!☺️☺️☺️

For as long as he'd known you, your hair had been long, always cascading down your back in soft waves. It had become a signature look for you, the kind of hair that always turned heads. But today, that was about to change.

When I told my husband I was going to cut my hair he probably thought it would just be the ends but looking at myself in the mirror after leaving the salon made me feel like a new person. My new short bob was framing my face perfectly.

The whole process felt surreal. I'd been nervous at first, sitting in the chair, but the stylist was incredibly reassuring, and soon the clippers were in my hair. Every inch that fell to the floor seemed to make my excitement grow.

"Omg who is that" I whispered to myself.

My smile could be seen for miles, I feel like myself like I've never felt before. I felt a sense of freedom like a free bird.

I look for my phone in my bag to text Lewis to pick me up, today we were going to a new Italian restaurant that George recommended to us.

I needed to text Lewis a photo of my new look. “New me. What do you think?”

He replied immediately. “I’m on my way. Don’t move a muscle.”

I couldn’t help but grin as I waited for him to arrive. The anticipation was almost unbearable. The idea of him seeing me like this, in such a drastically different way, made my heart race.

As I waited for him, my excitement and anxiety only increased, our house is 30 minutes from the salon but when my husband showed up in 10 minutes I knew he was serious, I saw the car and every step I took I got more anxious.

Lewis quickly got out of his Ferrari, his smile made me get butterflies in my stomach like I was a teenager when her first crush looked at her in the school hallway. His eyes immediately locking onto me. He froze for a second, taking in my new style, his lips parting slightly.

"Hi baby, you look- Wow" he said, his voice soft but full of awe.

I laughed softly, brushing my fingers through my now-short hair. “You think so?”

Lewis closed the distance between you in two quick steps, his hands gently lifting your chin so he could get a closer look at you. He ran his fingers through the ends of your hair, marveling at the change.

“You look stunning,” he murmured. “But honestly, you always do. You know I’m obsessed with you, right?”

I chuckled, my heart warming. “I don’t mind being your obsession.”

He leaned down, kissing me softly, as if savoring the moment. “I think I’ll have to spend the next few days just getting used to this new look,” he said, his tone playful. “But I have to admit, it’s giving me a whole new level of attraction to you. I can’t stop looking at you.”

I smiled against his lips, enjoying the way he seemed to fall for me all over again. It was funny how something as simple as a haircut could reignite that spark. But I didn’t mind—it was a reminder of how much Lewis adored me, no matter how much I changed.

[writinginfinite]

we've been caught, might as well post it pt. 2

pt. one

remember when we started our relationship? You made me promise we would never go to bed upset. I know you’re not upset, but you’re probably confused or second-guessing everything

As you stepped off the elevator, the tension between you and Lewis eased; it was now a mix of anticipation and excitement. The two of you had just taken a significant step in your relationship. But despite that, there was still a nagging thought in your head: how long could you maintain your anonymity? You loved your career, having worked hard to be promoted to an executive position just months ago. You hadn't done all that work just to become known as "Lewis Hamilton’s girlfriend." 

“What’s going on in that head of yours? And don’t lie to me,” Lewis asked, setting the shopping bags down. You let out a deep breath as you walked slowly toward him, craving some reassurance.

With your arms wrapped around Lewis' waist, you mumbled into his chest, “Who said I was going to lie?” He gently lifted your chin, wanting you to meet his gaze, but you kept your eyes closed, not ready to face those familiar brown eyes just yet.

“Because I know—” 

“Yeah, yeah, you know me better than I know myself,” you interrupted, finishing his usual line. 

“Well, if you know that, why would you even think about lying to me?”

You let out a groan, signaling he won. “It’s just… Lewis, I…”

Words failed you as you finally looked into his brown eyes, feeling even more vulnerable and becoming distressed. 

“Let’s go shower and talk about this in bed,” Lewis suggested.

“It’s almost twelve-thirty in the morning. Let’s shower and talk about it later,” you countered.

Lewis quickly dismissed your suggestion, and you knew he was right.

“Remember when we started our relationship? You made me promise we would never go to bed upset. I know you’re not upset, but you’re probably confused or second-guessing everything. We’re not sleeping until we discuss this.”

“Now let’s go. I’ll start the shower. We can also wash your hair while we’re in there,” Lewis said, placing a kiss on your lips before walking away, not giving you a chance to protest.

//

You sat in bed, tapping on your phone as you waited for Lewis to join you. You were distracted until you saw a familiar tattooed hand gently grab your phone out of your hand. “Hey, I don’t want you reading social media yet, especially before we discuss everything.”

“Wait, give it back. I wasn’t looking at social media. I wanted to deactivate my LinkedIn. You can call me paranoid later.” LinkedIn was the only public account you had, detailing everything about your career and past—at least professionally. You wouldn’t put it past anyone to use any means necessary to figure out who you were.

Hearing the worry in your voice, Lewis immediately handed your phone back. “I understand. Let me finish getting ready, and I’ll be right back. Don’t fall asleep on me.” 

After ensuring your LinkedIn was deactivated, you double-checked to make sure your only other social media account, Instagram, was set to private. You also decided to change your profile photo, replacing a picture Lewis had taken of you at dinner with an off-guard shot he had taken of you admiring the sunset on the beach. 

As you placed your phone back on the nightstand, you began to wonder if this type of paranoia would become your new normal. 

“You know you can’t expect all the worries to disappear hiding under the blankets,” Lewis said as he got into bed with you. 

“Why can’t we just talk about this in the morning?” You questioned as you clinched the covers even closer to you. 

You suddenly saw a peak of light come under the covers. “Fine, if you wanna hide under the blankets, I’ll join you. But we’re not running away from this. Please look at me, tell me what’s in your head, my love?” Lewis said as he slid under the blankets next to you. 

This man knew what to say to make your worries melt away. Someone could tell you the world was ending, and all you had to do was look into those brown eyes and hear Lewis’ voice, to calm down. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to look into those brown eyes just yet. You needed to get everything out first. 

“Lewis,” you whispered his name into the covers. “I’m afraid. Of what, I’m not sure yet. I love you with every fiber of my being Lewis and trust you completely. It’s not you I’m worried about, it’s what outside our home I’m worried about. The things outside of my control. I’m scared of losing everything I’ve built up for myself. But God knows I want everyone to know the man I love.”

Finally, finding the courage to turn and look into those brown eyes filled with curiosity, you murmured, holding back tears, “It’s just that everyone already knows everything about the man I love.”

Lewis stared at you with a mix of empathy and protectiveness. His hand gently caressed your cheek. “Hey, listen to me,” he began softly. “People think they know everything about me, but they’re strongly mistaken. They know the driver, the public figure, what I choose to portray to them on the weekends. But they will never know me the way you do. They don’t know how I sing off-key in the shower or how I arrange my things in a certain order. They don’t know how badly I want to hear your voice or see you run in my direction and wrap your arms around me during a race weekend. Or how I love coming home, because seeing you calms me more than anything else ever could.”

Lewis brushed away a tear that fell from your eye. “Everything you just told me is 100% valid. Your happiness and sense of security are my number top priority. I don’t want you to worry because you know I will do everything in my power to protect everything you’ve built up. But most importantly, I’ll protect you. Love, I’m so proud of you. You’re my entire world.”

Lewis' voice was filled with tenderness. “I want to show you to the world. But I respect your boundaries, and we’ll only do so when you’re ready. Until then, it’s just us. Our love doesn’t need to be displayed to be real. It’s in every moment we share, every look, every touch.”

He leaned in and kissed your forehead. “We’ll take this at your pace. Never forget, I love you more than you’ll ever understand. I’ll be right here, every step of the way.”

“Okay,” was all you could say, mustering up a smile. This man did it again. 

“There’s that smile I love to see. Seriously, are you sure you’re okay? You’re not rushing because you want to go to bed?” Lewis questioned, refusing to go to bed until he knew things were completely fine between you both. 

“You told me what I needed to hear, and I trust everything you’ve said. In all honesty, I’ve trusted everything you’ve ever told me. Never have you given me a reason not to doubt you. I love you, Lewis,” you said, reassuring him. This time, you were the one to initiate a kiss. “Let’s go to bed now,” you pleaded because you were struggling to keep your eyes open. 

“Yes, come here,” Lewis said, pulling you closer and onto his chest. “Don’t need you grumpy while doing your hair later,” he mumbled. You were too tired to come up with a response, so you playfully kicked his leg, and the rest was a blur.

//

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, the memories of hours ago slowly coming back to mind. You reached for your phone to check for any new notifications, but your phone was gone. All you found was your charger and a note with familiar handwriting.

“Good morning, my love. Looking for your phone? It’s in the kitchen with me. I don’t want you reading anything yet; you have a lot to do and are easily distracted …” 

You playfully rolled your eyes at that part. As the note continued, it read, “Don’t roll your eyes because you know I’m right. Now go get ready to start your day.”

“This man, MY man,” you said as you got out of bed, placing the note back on the nightstand. 

As you walked into the master bathroom, you saw a set of clothes laid out - the type of old clothes you wore just for hair wash day. An old t-shirt of Lewis and a pair of lounge shorts, with another note on the counter. 

“Breakfast is ready when you are. I’m downstairs. Also, check the second bathroom when you walk down the hall before coming downstairs,” 

You were at a loss for words. No matter how much Lewis had done for you, he always surprised you. You went through your daily routine and then put on the clothes Lewis had laid out for you. This time, you grabbed the note and walked over to place it on your nightstand with the first one. 

As you walked down the hall, you noticed the light was on in the second bathroom. It was odd because Lewis rarely kept on lights if no one was in the room, but then you remembered the note. As you walked in, you blurted out, “Aww, Lewis!” 

It was the simplest gesture. In the bathroom, he had laid out everything you’d need to braid your hair, along with your iPad set up with your comfort show - the one you always rewatched when you were doing your hair. 

You turned off the bathroom light and hurried down the stairs into the kitchen. There, you found Lewis with headphones on, making a cup of tea. You carefully tapped him to warn him of your presence, not wanting the hot tea to spill on either of you. 

Once he put the hot cup down, he turned around and removed his headphones. You then wrapped your arms around his waist, repeating, “I love you. I love you. I love you,” with your voice cracking. 

It was something so simple, but it gave you the extra reassurance you needed that everything he told you last night was true. 

“Well, good morning,” was all Lewis could say before you stood on your tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Yes, I rolled my eyes at your note,” you stopped him. 

Lewis then picked you up and placed you on the counter. “Oh, so you saw your notes and followed directions for once,” Lewis playfully teased. 

You tilted your head, questioning what you just heard. “For once? I always follow -" You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Lewis tilted his head, knowing what you said wasn’t true. 

“Well, okay, that one time when we -“ 

“Just one occasion you can remember? Want me to try and bring back some memories?” Lewis said as he grabbed you again, throwing you over his shoulder. 

“No, no, no,” you protested. “Okay, you’re right. Put me down, Lewis,” you laughed, kicking your feet in the air trying to fight his grip. 

“That’s what I thought,” Lewis said as he softly tossed you on the couch, now laying on top of you. 

He stared at you for what felt like hours but was only seconds before asking the same question he asked before bed last night, “Are you sure you’re okay?” while trying to read your face. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Well, not really,” you said, causing Lewis to sit up with a face of worry. “I'm not fine because I’m really hungry,” you finished your statement. This caused a sigh of relief from Lewis, followed by a laugh and now tickles. 

“Mercy, mercy, mercy,” was all you could say between squeals before Lewis stopped and sat you up, placing you on his lap. 

Lewis held your face in his hand, saying, “Well, I made you breakfast and tea, which is probably cold now. I can remake it if you’d like?” 

“Lewis, they make these things called microwaves. I will be fine.” 

“Feeling smart-mouth, are we this morning?” Lewis said with a quizzical look. “I’m kidding. I know your hair is an all-day affair, so I purposely planned my meetings for today, which may be an all-day affair because you know what next week is.” 

You let out a sigh, remembering the next three weeks were a triple header. Spanish, Austria, then Silverstone. Three weeks where you would only see Lewis over FaceTime, waking up and going to sleep in an empty bed and quiet house. Last year it was rough, but especially now that you’re living together in this big house, you knew it would be tougher. 

“Hey. Let’s take it day by day. I’m not leaving yet, so let’s not think about that. Getting grumpy for no reason,” Lewis said before kissing your forehead. 

“Now it’s 7:30 and my meetings start in thirty minutes. I’ll sit with you while you eat. Come on,” Lewis said, while guiding you back to the kitchen. 

“Can I please have my phone? I don’t care about reading things online. I wanted you to pick my braids.” 

“It’s over there on the countertop. Let me grab it. You eat.”

You had more messages than normal, but quickly swiped past them and to your photos. You gave Lewis two options: boho knotless braids or butterfly locs. 

He swiped between the two photos before deciding on the boho knotless braids, which you were hoping would be his first choice. 

As you got up to put your dishes in the sink, Lewis stopped you to take them from you before handing you your phone back.

“I got this. Go start on your hair. If you need anything, text me. I’ll be in my office for the majority of the day. Also, I already prepared lunch and started dinner. Don’t ask how long I’ve been up, sweetie.” Lewis placed a kiss on your lips before heading down the hall to his office. 

//

“You were right. Not using my phone helped me finish my hair in record time,” you said to Lewis as you both sat on the couch, eating ice cream before bed. 

“See, I told you. So, you can admit, I’m right- you are easily distracted,” Lewis responded with a smirk. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you admitted reluctantly. You told Lewis to stay put while you went to wash the final dishes you two had used. 

As you were putting the dishes away, you heard Lewis’ voice from a distance say, “It’s mostly all positive online. And don’t worry, no photos of you have been found. It’s all ‘Respect their privacy’”

"That's nice to know," you said while closing cabinets.

“The few people we’ve told, I’ve reminded them to not say a word. And I know we can trust them,” Lewis said, with him now behind you. 

“I know. I saw our friends’ texts and reminded them as well. I’m taking your word for it. I’m not going online anytime soon. I’ll be fine, Lewis. We’ll be fine,” you said, turning around to embrace him in a hug. You needed it because you knew in just a day he’d be off again, this time for a while. 

// SPANISH GP

You decided to work from home this Thursday, sitting in Lewis’ office even though you had your own. It had only been a couple of days since he left, and you started to wonder how you’d survive another 23 days without seeing him. You tried your hardest to never miss an opportunity to see Lewis on television.

It was super early, the sun barely up, and you hadn’t even turned on your laptop for work. Instead, you sat in Lewis’ office chair, watching the drivers’ press conference. You were wearing one of the many sweatshirts Lewis “mistakenly” placed in your closet before he left.

You took a quick selfie with his desk in the background. “Good afternoon, my love. Like my setup? Also, you ‘mistakenly’ left a couple of your sweatshirts in my closet when putting away laundry. So I’m claiming them for now. I love you and miss you.” You hit send before realizing the press conference had just started.

Lewis never had his sound on during these events, so you weren’t worried about him seeing it.

But you were wrong.

You watched live as Lewis pulled his phone out of his pocket. You looked at your phone as the message now said, “Read.”

You could see Lewis clicking on the photo, zooming in to figure out where you were. A huge smile formed on his face.

You thought Lewis was about to say something but realized he hadn’t heard the question. You frantically texted him, “LEWIS!!! They just asked you about your odds at Spain this weekend.”

Lewis could sense your panic through your text and was laughing, putting his phone on his lap. He was always calm when you felt he should be stressed.

As Lewis was picking up the mic, it picked up him whispering to himself, “Is she in my office? She found them,” before speaking directly into the mic, “I’m sorry. Did someone ask how I feel about my odds at Spain this weekend? I'm sorry I missed the question.”

The reporter responded, “Yes, that was the question. But if you want to tell us who’s in your office and what she found, that’d make for better reporting.” There was no hint of joking in the reporter’s voice. This reporter was known for trying to push Lewis’ buttons.

Your heart sank. You just hoped the man wouldn’t get to Lewis and that he wouldn’t say anything that would give them clicks.

The once joking face on Lewis turned serious. He moved to the edge of his seat. “Watch it. Don’t speak on her again.” The reporter retorted with, “We’ll figure out who, sooner or later.” You knew this had struck a huge nerve. Lewis said he’d protect you, and just days after that promise, people were coming for you.

You quickly typed out, “Lewis, please don’t give in. Ignore him, please. You’ll give them what they want. I’m fine. We’re fine. We’ll discuss this later. We’ll do this on our time.”

As Lewis was about to raise the mic to speak, his phone vibrating stopped him. You saw him read over your text, and you watched him nod his head, signaling he got your message.

“We’ll do this on our time. Now, to answer your question…” You were relieved when you heard Lewis move on.

All you could think was, “We’ll have to do this earlier than hoped.”

Immediately following the press conference, you received a text from Lewis. “I’m calling you in a few minutes.”

No “My love” or greeting—just a straightforward message. He was pissed.

//

You sat on FaceTime with an apologetic Lewis, trying to reassure him you were fine. It wasn’t a lie—he had done exactly what you’d hoped, keeping your name out of the press until you were ready.

“Silverstone,” you blurted out, confusing Lewis.

“Yes, Silverstone is the last race before I come home.”

“How about we make this known at Silverstone? We said we’d do this at our pace, and I don’t want it happening outside of our control. I want us to do it. So, Silverstone. I can come there on race day.”

For the first time in your relationship, you left Lewis speechless.

“Did you lose service? Are you still there?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush this. I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“Lewis, I promise you, I’m fine. I want to do this now. How about this: if you’re on the podium, I’ll be there waiting for you. Otherwise, we’ll keep things under wraps.”

“As if I needed any extra motivation to get a win or be on the podium. I’ll get things together; you focus on work. I’ll keep this as low profile as possible. I love you so much and can’t wait to see you. And, hopefully for the first time, have you there after a win or podium.”

// SILVERSTONE

You sat in the Mercedes hospitality area, trying your hardest to blend in as a fan on a solo trip. “Come on, Lewis,” you kept saying as he tried to overtake for P2.

The only person who knew who you were was Rosa, the one person in the garage Lewis trusted to stay silent.

You, along with everyone in hospitality, clapped with excitement as you saw Lewis pull into P3 in parc ferme. You looked down at your phone to see a text: “It’s Rosa. Meet me at the exit. I’ll walk you to the team. You’ll need more credentials. He did it! I know he can’t wait to see you!”

You quickly got up, straightened your dress, and found Rosa. In hand, she had your extra credentials and walked you to the front of the barricades, to the confusion of the team members.

As Lewis made his way to the team, he made eye contact with you.

“You’re here!” Instead of jumping towards his team, he grabbed you into a hug, slightly picking you up. At that moment, everything went silent—it was just you and him. You couldn’t let go, but you knew you had to.

You were up front as you watched the podium celebration. Cameras were in your face as Lewis was handed his trophy, but you didn’t care. You weren’t worried if people figured out who you were anymore; all that mattered was that you could finally celebrate alongside him.

Once the podium celebration was over, Rosa quickly grabbed you and took you back to Lewis’ motorhome. She tried to be discreet, but there was no hiding you anymore. You followed her, giving her a hug as you walked, finally introducing yourself.

“Trust me, I know who you are. I’m the only person he talks about you to, and all I can say is, this man loves you.”

“He should be inside. I’ll leave you two,” Rosa said before walking off.

You walked in to see Lewis sitting on the couch, changed into a team shirt and pants before heading to his final press conference. He immediately jumped up to hug you, whispering words of affirmation.

“You did it! At your home track as well!” You couldn’t stop smiling. “You have a press conference to go to. I’ll be here when you get back!”

“I love you,” Lewis said before running out to the press conference.

// PRESS CONFERENCE

You sat on the couch, watching the press conference. Lewis started off by saying, “Yes, that was her. That’s all I’ll say about her until she’s ready.”

//

author's notes: part two of "we've been caught, might as well post it" sorry imagine part x is taking awhile.

3.8K words. need to proofread again.

[f1daydreamer]

Timeless

Genre: Fluff with a touch of angst

Plot: A budding romance between Lewis Hamilton (38) and the reader (25) is tested by the pressures of fame, the scrutiny of an age gap, and the lingering doubts of belonging in each other's worlds.

Warnings: Mentions of insecurities, fame-induced stress, emotional vulnerability, and a heavy dose of fluff at the end.

---

You hadn’t planned on being at the Monaco Grand Prix, let alone in the paddock among the glittering elite. When your best friend begged you to join her, swearing it would be an unforgettable experience, you caved.

“C’mon, how often do you get to be this close to Formula 1?” she’d argued.

Your response had been a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t even follow it. What am I supposed to do there?”

Apparently, the answer was meet Lewis Hamilton.

You hadn’t recognized him immediately. It wasn’t his fame that struck you first—it was his presence. There was something magnetic about the way he carried himself, a calmness that felt out of place in the chaos of the paddock. And when his eyes met yours for the first time, it was as if the noise around you dimmed, leaving only the two of you.

It started with small talk about the chaos of race day. You joked about feeling out of place, and he smiled, saying he understood that feeling better than you’d think. His laugh, deep and unguarded, lingered in your mind long after the conversation ended. So when he asked for your number, you gave it to him without hesitation.

---

What followed was nothing short of magical, though not without complications.

Your conversations were endless, spanning across time zones and countries as Lewis balanced his relentless schedule with a growing connection to you. He introduced you to the world of Formula 1 with patience, laughing at your many questions but always answering them thoughtfully. You, in turn, introduced him to your quieter world—one free of flashing cameras and constant scrutiny.

But as months passed, doubts crept in. Not about him—you’d never felt more seen, more loved—but about whether you could truly fit into his life.

The first crack appeared one night when you were scrolling through social media.

“‘Lewis Hamilton spotted with mystery young woman,’” you read aloud, the headline making your chest tighten. The comments below it stung even worse.

“She’s probably just another fling.”

“Honestly, he should date someone on his level.”

“Who even is she?”

You didn’t notice Lewis enter the room until he gently took your phone from your hands.

“Why do you read that stuff?” he asked softly, sitting beside you on the couch.

You avoided his gaze, feeling foolish. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to see what people thought of us.”

“And?” His voice was calm, but his eyes searched yours.

“They think I’m not enough for you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lewis let out a heavy sigh, his fingers brushing over yours. “Listen to me. The only opinion that matters is mine. And I know exactly who you are—smart, kind, beautiful, and more than enough.”

His words made your heart ache, but the doubts didn’t vanish overnight.

---

The turning point came at the next Monaco Grand Prix.

Lewis had insisted you come, this time as his guest. You’d hesitated, knowing how much attention it would draw, but his quiet reassurance won you over.

“Come with me,” he’d said. “I want you there. With me.”

Walking through the paddock hand in hand, you felt the weight of countless eyes on you. The whispers were there, faint but undeniable.

“Who is she?”

“Isn’t she a bit young for him?”

You squeezed Lewis’s hand, trying to steady your nerves. He looked down at you, his expression softening when he saw the tension in your shoulders.

“Hey,” he murmured, stopping to face you. “You okay?”

You nodded, though it wasn’t entirely true. “I just… feel out of place here.”

Lewis stepped closer, his free hand cupping your cheek. “You belong here. With me. Don’t let them make you doubt that, okay?”

The sincerity in his voice melted your insecurities, if only for the moment.

---

That evening, as you sat together on the balcony of his Monaco apartment, the city lights casting a golden glow around you, you finally voiced the question that had been haunting you.

“Do you ever wonder if this is… too much? The age gap, the pressure, everything?”

Lewis was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon. Then he turned to you, his expression both tender and resolute.

“I won’t lie to you,” he began. “This isn’t easy. But the best things in life never are. And you? You’re worth it. Every challenge, every doubt. I wouldn’t trade what we have for anything.”

Tears stung your eyes as you leaned into him, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace.

“I’m scared sometimes,” you admitted.

“I know,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “But we’ll figure it out together. You’re not alone in this.”

---

When race day arrived, you found yourself back in the paddock, this time with a newfound confidence.

Lewis had qualified on pole, and when he crossed the finish line in first place, your heart swelled with pride. You watched as he climbed out of the car, his grin wide and unapologetically joyous as he sprayed champagne over the crowd.

When he finally found you in the chaos, his arms pulled you into a tight embrace, heedless of the cameras.

“I told you,” he murmured against your ear, his voice full of emotion. “You’re where you’re meant to be.”

And as you looked up at him, the doubts that once clouded your mind faded away, replaced by the certainty of his love.

---

A/N: Hi lovelies! I hope you enjoyed this longer, fluffier one-shot with just a sprinkle of angst for emotional depth. Lewis has such a warm, grounding presence, so writing this dynamic felt really special. Let me know your thoughts or if you’d like to see more stories like this! <3

[daisybianca]

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x femalereader

summary: Lewis proposes in a special ceremony—and it’s dirty

warnings: mentions of sexual activities, slight jealousy

(a/n): this is written from Lewis’ pov cuz I love my man obsessed

I MIGHT BE the filthiest person in her life right now. The dirtiest one, with the most disgusting thoughts about her. Do I care, though?

Absolutely not.

Will I let another man touch her?

Hah. Funny enough.

Because when this night is over, a ring will be circled around the fair flesh of her finger. And my initial will be curved into it. I’m sure of it.

My fiancé soon-to-be has chosen a red, long dress that hugs her curved body for tonight’s ceremony. I can see my parents eye her across the ballroom.

Our names are written on tonight’s sky. Mine and hers. The night is ours. And it’ll not be over until we say so.

Y/N appears at the very top of the stairs and her father rushes by her side, helping her to walk towards me. Reaching for her hand as soon as she reached the last step, the crowd ceases clapping.

I take her hand in mine. It fits perfectly, as always. She fits perfectly. Her body against mine. Her smart brain along with mine. Her eyes on mine.

Everything is perfect because she is a part of it.

“Lewis…” She approaches me and I can detect a particular glimpse of something in her beautiful eyes.

I curl my lips in a smile. “You’re the most beautiful woman in this room.” I say. I’m positive that everyone’s eyes and ears are focused on this moment. On us. “Probably in the entire world.”

She manages a smile, even though I can tell she’s nervous. About a hundred or so people have been gathered by me and her father to celebrate this day.

Three years ago, when the date was the same as it is this day, I met her.

Three years later, I’m marking her as mine. Officially, at least. Because I made sure she knew—and everyone else around us—she’s mind since the very first moment.

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” I push her towards me gently and cup her reddened cheeks with my hands.

Across my thumb, her initial is written on the surface with bold ink.

My hands are hers to use. Hers to lick. Hers to fuck. I wanted her to know that.

I turn around and smile at the guests. Toto gives me a reassuring father as he drinks a sip from his wine next to my father.

“Let’s dance,” I brush my lips across her ear, starting to make our way to the centre of the room.

“Lewis, you know I can’t dance in these shoes.” She lifts her right leg just a few inches and waves her dress so I can take a glimpse of her white heels.

I make sure to keep my tone quiet. “Y/N, I’ve seen you pole-dancing in stripper-heels.”

Her face turns into a darker shade of red. Her hands feels cold. Sweaty.

I don’t want her to fucking feel like that on a day as special as this one.

She has to calm down. And I’m the one obligated to make her do it.

I brush her long hair and press pecks on her temple, cheeks, lips… I stop on the neck because it’s a soft spot for me. Can’t let myself lose control in front of all my relatives, friends and coworkers. It’d be such a pity to grab her and take her to the closest room and ruin such an event.

I being a glass of red whine for her knowing how much she adores it. My hand never leaves her and I can tell that as the minutes pass, her breathing feels steadier.

One hour goes by.

Two.

It’s ten past something and about time I…

“Ladies and gentlemen.” I let y/n’s hand and climb on the stage, rolling the sleeves of my white shirt as I do so. “Thank you for attending tonight’s ceremony, to begin with. It is a special day for us and we are very pleased to share such a great moment with the people we love.”

The crowd above the stage claps, I can even take a glimpse of my dog, Roscoe, swirling around in Ricciardo’s embrace… everyone is overwhelmed and that brings a smile to my lips. But nothing compares to the burning sensation in my chest.

I don’t know what it is. But I know it’s a good feeling. I also got it the first time I met y/n. Or when I asked her out. Or when we first kissed or made love.

“I would like to invite my beautiful woman, y/n…” I control myself not to exclaim “fiancé” or “wife” instead of “woman”. I’m not hesitant to go on. “…on this stage with me.”

The people go thunderous and I help y/n to walk the few steps on the stage.

We arrive at the centre of the stage and the music stops.

All the lights on us. Everyone’s eyes.

It feels magical.

I look up and find the most beautiful pair of eyes I’ve ever seen already fixed on me. She’s smiling. It’s contagious so I grin as well. “Y/n…” I start but a voice interrupts my words.

“Go on one knee!” I identify Toyo’s voice in the first row as I reach for the velvet box in my pocket.

“On one knee!” Yells my father and then the guests go crazy.

I turn to my woman and smile. “Don’t ask me to go on one knee.” I say.

“As long as you don’t ask me to get on two knees.” She replies in a dirty voice, leaning towards me.”

“Baby, I want you in all for.”

She smiles again but no one hears our conversation. They still yell for me to propose on one knee.

Fuck. I’ll have to do this.

I grab the box tightly in my hand and do as asked. I get on my knees.

In front of my woman. The woman of my dreams.

I’ve been on my knees in front of y/n countless times before, but for educational purposes only. Nothing like this.

I raise my eyes. She’s crying.

I hold onto her hand. “Y/n…” I start. “Please make me the happiest man in the entire universe and accept this proposal.” I think my heart is going to explode. “Will you please marry me?”

The crowd erupts in a chaos of applause and I find myself trapped in her eyes. I expect her to say the word first, but she doesn’t.

She melts into my hands and buries her small face in my neck.

This has to be the most beautiful moment of my entire existence.

She’s crying and I think I am too honestly. “Yes, yes, yes! A million times yes, Lewis!” She almost creams and between tears, I grab her face and unite our temples. I apply a kiss on her mouth. It’s gently at first but then I can see her craving for more.

When I let her lips to catch my breath (I actually remembered that we are not alone, but in a room with our closest people and if she went on I would without hesitation forget their existence) I look into her eyes. I grab her delicate hand and take the ring out of the box.

It fits perfectly on her finger.

I look at her again and murmur, “Perfectly fitted. Just for you, baby. Just for my wife.”

••••••••••