#what do I feel toward hamilton? I don’t fucking know

[handsome-enemy-you-despise]

me and renee after I send another comment to her fic including a sentence “girl, I feel so bad for Burr, my soul aches for him :(( but I’m praying for Hamilton’s downfall”

[maxtermind]

Can I request some more angst 🫠🫠 I’m a sucker for your sad fics

tell me, why'd you have to hit-and-run me?

★ : summary :: finding out your boyfriend was dared to date you ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: ANGST; no hea ★ : word count :: 4k+ ★ : a/n :: how are we feeling with the daily posts ending tom and shifting to alternate day posting🤭 babe you asked for angst and i delivered, lmk how you like it <3 bet y'all thought you needed tissues for something else😏

Max Verstappen

“Mate, you still haven’t told her?” you heard Lando whisper, making your eyebrows shoot up. What were they talking about? As you finally decided to approach your boyfriend and his friend, you heard Max whisper.

It was low, so low that you almost didn’t catch it, but the way your hand froze on the knob and the utter stillness of your heartbeat indicated that you heard him loud and clear when he slowly said, “I don’t know how to.”

That. That was the reason you froze. You were processing what you heard. Your heart pulled from its rightful place—no, it was ripped out.

God, you thought, anything but that. Anything but cheating because how could you even confront him if he confessed to cheating on you right there on the spot in front of one of his friends?

“It has been going on for too long, Max.” Lando took a deep breath. “You should tell her you love her; she’ll understand.”

Ah. Okay, he loves you; this was okay. But then why was your heart still beating so loudly that you could hear it in your ears?

“How do you think I should go about it?” Max asked, and that was when you finally had enough. You turned the knob, but Lando was already speaking, and his words had you freeze again.

The boys' heads snapped up, eyes wide when they saw you walk in. You felt your eyes burn as Lando’s last words finally processed.

“You should’ve thought about it before you decided to make a stupid bet with those dumb men.”

“Bet?” you wondered aloud as you saw Max stumble over to you. What bet?

“No bet!” you heard your panicked boyfriend almost scream. You were so confused you didn’t even know what you were saying out loud.

“For fuck’s sake,” Lando said as he stood from the couch, glaring at Max. “Y/N deserves to know.” You kept your eyes on Max, trying to gauge an explanation from his clearly messed-up state.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” you finally looked at your boyfriend’s best friend. “I clearly shouldn’t have trusted Max to—”

“I think you should leave,” Max groaned out as if it pained him to hear Lando talk, almost hissing out the last word. They started bickering back and forth, and through your hazy mind, you could only make out a few words.

But they were enough. You took a deep breath as you stepped away from Max towards the door. He was too busy focusing on Lando anyway.

“Y.. you’re saying I was a bet?” Your voice cut through the chaos, and it was Max’s turn to go dead silent and freeze on the spot.

“You asked me ou—” Oh god, you didn’t want to cry, “—because of a dare?”

Max’s eyes were wide with horror, his face pale as he took a step toward you, his hands reaching out in desperation. “No, Y/N, it’s not like that, please, let me explain.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably. “Explain what, Max?” Your voice cracked on the last word, the pain too raw to hold back when you saw Max was also crying. “How a…all i have be— this relationship has been is a fucking lie?” The moment you said it out loud, you heard Lando take in a sharp breath. Max looked disheveled, he could just tell that this was the only time he could repair this. You looked a minute away from walking out and the thought of that had him talking even through his closed up throat.

His voice broke, choked with emotion. “No, Y/N, I swear, it wasn’t like that. It started as a stupid dare, yes, but then... then I fell in love with you. I fell so hard, it—” His words stumbled over each other, barely coherent through his tears. “I called the whole thing off.”

You cut him off, your voice trembling and thick with hurt. “You should have told me right then. As soon as you called it off, you sho—” Your body shook, barely able to stand under the weight of your heartbreak. “How could you do this to m.. me?”

Max rushed forward to hold your hands, breathing heavily to get himself under control so he could talk as he sobbed. “I was so fucking scared, Y/N. I didn’t want to lose you. You mean everything to me.”

You looked down at your joined hands, feeling your heart shatter all over again. It was one thing to know someone’s apology was sincere and another to know that they had faked being sincere from the very beginning. So how could you even tell the difference now? Your voice came out in a broken whisper. “How can I trust you now? How can I believe anything you say?” You were almost gasping for breath, each word an effort as you tried to hold back the sobs wracking your body.

Lando’s voice was soft but firm from behind you, though his own eyes were hard. “He’s telling the truth, Y/N. He was an idiot, but he’s been head over heels for you for a long time.”

Max’s tear-streaked face looked up at you, his eyes pleading. “Please, Y/N. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Anything. Just... don’t leave me.” His voice broke, the last word coming out as a wail of despair.

You turned away, unable to bear the sight of him, your voice barely above a whisper but laced with raw agony. “I can’t be here.” You could barely see through your tears, your entire body trembling.

Max’s anguished sobs followed you as you walked away, your heart feeling like it was being torn from your chest with every step. The pain was unbearable, and you stumbled, nearly collapsing under the weight of your sorrow but Lando caught you as he held you by your shoulders.

You needed to be alone, to process everything, and to decide if love could truly overcome betrayal. But right now, it felt like your world was ending.

Lewis Hamilton

“Y/N, baby please—”

Lewis’s voice pleaded as you shut the door behind, your heart splintering into a thousand pieces. Tears blurred your vision as you staggered away from your apartment, the weight of betrayal crushing your chest.

To think that you used to gush about him, about this, the vague lie you had to others. Not even a few steps away from your apartment, you were bent over, retching into a nearby dustbin.

How could luck be so cruel? How could you have been so blind?

You wandered the streets, tears falling down your cheeks as your brain replayed the moments when Lewis first approached you at a random club party, despite your friends warning you that someone like him must have nefarious reasons. But you were smitten.

“I’m sorry, but I don't know what you’re doing here,” you had said to him, feeling your heart beat faster when a smirk adorned his face in return. He looked majestic under the club lights. “Where else would I be?” he muttered, mesmerized as he looked at you, “If not with the most beautiful girl in this club?”

He made you feel special, validated in a way you had never felt before. Now, the memory turned sour in your mind, leaving you feeling sick and disgusted. You dry heaved again.

At least he had the decency to confess. Standing here in the cold, his words from when he sat you down with him echoed in your ears— his pleading, his apologies, his desperate attempts to explain. But what did it matter now?

“How could you?” you whispered, thump! thump! thump! your heart pumped as you heard it in your ears, your voice barely audible through the tears streaming down your cheeks. “Was I just a game to you?” That was the first thing you said after his almost ten-minute rant.

You had stopped listening though, right when he had told you what exactly made him approach you. Your first meeting was so magical, so precious to you, but it was all ruined now.

His friend had dared him because Lewis’ morale was down. He was having the worst day of his life after losing an almost sure race win, and his friends knew the only way to cheer him up was through a challenge.

Lewis reached out when he saw that you were lost in your thoughts, his voice desperate and shaky. “No, Y/N, please listen to me—”

You shook your head, cutting him off. “Don’t. Just don’t…”

“Please,” he pleaded, looking nothing like the man you loved, his voice cracking with emotion. “I love you, Y/N. I messed up, but I love you more than anything.”

You felt your heart breaking all over again because you genuinely couldn’t recognize the man standing in front of you— the man who had played you, was probably still playing you. “You should have thought about that before…”

Unable to bear another moment, you left, leaving his words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. You were nothing more than a pawn in his game of masculine pride and insecurity. The realization hit you like a freight train, leaving you gasping for air as you collapsed against a nearby wall, sobs wracking your body.

How could someone who once made you feel so alive now leave you feeling so broken?

Carlos Sainz

The evening was warm, and the restaurant buzzed with laughter and conversation. You sat with your boyfriend, Carlos, his friends, and a few of your own. It was a casual dinner, the kind you rarely held since Carlos was so busy.

“I can't believe we wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t dared Carlos to ask you out,” Javier chuckled as he saw you lean forward to kiss your boyfriend.

Laughter erupted around the table but quickly died down when they realized the utter horror on your face. An uncomfortable silence settled in, and you noticed the tension.

Your wide eyes moved from one face to another, finally landing on Carlos, whose expression had turned serious. He glared at Javier, and you sensed something was wrong. You felt uncomfortable, and the need to flee clutched you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice small yet cutting through the awkwardness as you held Carlos’ hand under the table. He squeezed it in return.

“Uh, nothing,” Javier stammered, realizing his mistake. His discomfort was evident, triggering your fight-or-flight response.

You turned to Carlos. “What’s going on?” Your voice held a very tiny hope, hoping this was all a prank that would be over soon.

He sighed as he squeezed your hand again, his frustration evident. “We should talk about this at home.”

You pulled your hand away from his, your confusion and hurt growing. The others at the table exchanged looks of pity, further igniting your anger.

“No, we’re talking about it here. What’s going on?” you demanded as a shaky breath left your lips.

Carlos looked around nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to tell you like this.” He stopped himself again.

“Tell me what?” Your voice grew louder, drawing the attention of nearby diners.

Before he could respond, one of your friends, Beatrice, chimed in, “Just tell her, for God’s sake!” You looked at her in solitude, glad that you had some kind of support here.

“I dared Carlos to ask you out as a joke!” Javier blurted out just as you were managing to form a small smile to pass to your friend.

Your heart pounded in your chest. “What?” The chair creaked under you as you pushed it away from the table, and your boyfriend held your hand again.

“Please, it wasn’t like that,” Carlos tried to calm you down, but he was panicking himself. He was still whispering that you could not feel anything else in the world anymore. That was enough evidence.

You stood up, knocking your chair over as you once again snatched your hand away from his. “Wasn’t like what? You made me believe this was fucking real!”

Other diners began to whisper and pull out their phones, recording the scene as he stood up as well. With a desperate look, Carlos reached out to you, but you stepped back.

“This whole time, I was just a fucking… dare to you?” you shouted.

People around the restaurant started filming, their phones pointed at the escalating scene. Carlos's anger boiled over. He grabbed a nearby phone and smashed it against the table. The room fell silent, shocked gasps filling the air.

“Carlos, stop!” One of his friends tried to pull him back.

“You all think this is funny?” Carlos yelled at the onlookers, distracted now, and you knew what you were going to do as he turned around to yell again. “Get your own fucking life!”

You stood up, tears streaming down your face. “I’m done with this,” you said, your voice breaking. You were already walking away when you felt your friend follow you.

As you left the restaurant, you could hear the whispers and see the flashes of cameras. You knew this would go viral, but at that moment, you didn’t care. Your heart ached with betrayal and anger.

Carlos realized a bit too late that you were gone. Frustrated, he ran out to catch up with you and tried to call you again and again.He didn't know at the time that he would never catch a hold of you after this.

Charles Leclerc

You were scrolling through social media when a notification from an unknown sender caught your attention. Despite knowing that you shouldn’t, curiosity got the better of you, and you clicked on the thumbnail showing your boyfriend at a party.

The video started playing. It was from months ago, showing Charles in an outfit that you recognized but couldn’t remember from where. Ethan's voice could be heard clearly over the music. “I dare you to ask that girl out,” Ethan said, laughing, but you still couldn’t tell who he was pointing at. “Bet you can't do it.”

Charles grinned, looking a little tipsy. “You're on,” he replied, to the cheers and jeers of his friends. The grainy video ended with Charles approaching you. A deafening silence enveloped you when you realized this was from the day you first met him.

Charles had a determined look on his face, but the video faded into the background. Your thoughts echoed painfully in the emptiness, the truth of your lover's betrayal reverberating within you.

Your heart sank further as you sat in silence to process. You felt a rush of emotions— betrayal, hurt, and anger. Tears welled up in your eyes as you replayed the video, hoping it was some sort of sick joke. But the evidence was right there, undeniable.

At that moment, the door to the apartment opened, and Charles walked in, a smile on his face. “Hey, love. What are you up to?” he asked, not noticing your distress at first.

You turned to him, your eyes brimming with tears. “What is this?” you demanded, holding up your phone with the video paused at the damning moment.

Charles's smile faded instantly, replaced by a look of horror. “Baby, how did you—” he started, stepping towards you as he felt the room spin a bit, all the blood rushing to his head.

“Does it matter?” you snapped, your voice shaking with anger as tears gathered under your eyes. “When you only even looked at me because of a stupid bet?”

“It started as a bet, yes,” Charles admitted, his voice pained. “But it's not like that now. I fell in love with you, Y/N. Everything we've had since then has been real.” He was quickly getting closer to you, but you flinched away and that stopped him dead in his tracks.

You shook your head, unable to believe what you were hearing. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” You were so angry, your ears so warm that it wouldn’t be impossible if smoke started coming out of them.

Charles reached out, but you stepped back once again. “Please, Y/N. I was an idiot. I shouldn't have agreed to that dare, but I did. And yes, that's how it started. But the moment I got to know you, everything changed. I love you more than anything.”

“Do you have any idea just how humiliating this is?” you shouted, your voice breaking. “I thought what we had was special. I thought it was real. And now I find out it was all… a gamble to you.” You hated that you were showing him so many emotions but fuck, it hurt so much and you wish you could hurt him back.

“It is not a gamble,” Charles pleaded, tears forming in his eyes. “Not after I got to know you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Please, don't let this ruin us.” He could actually feel you slipping through his fingers.

“Fuck you, you’re the one who ruined this!” you said, turning away, trying to gather your thoughts, willing yourself to leave and hating yourself when you couldn’t. “Seriously,” you said quietly, not looking at him. “Fuck you.” You laid emphasis to show that you actually meant the words. “You’ve ruined me”

“Baby,” Charles's voice broke when he heard you say that he ruined you, but the way you glared at him because of the nickname had him backtracking. “Y/N, please just let me show you how that was all a lie. I love you. I can't fucking lose you over this.”

You walked to the door, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere. “It is still all a lie,” you declared in a voice that showed you were shutting down, barely above a whisper.

As you stepped out of the apartment, you heard Charles crying behind you, but you didn’t stop to mend his heart because you couldn't even feel yours in your chest.

Lando Norris

Lando’s phone buzzed with notifications as he stepped out of the room and you glanced at it absentmindedly, not intending to invade his privacy. But the screen lit up with messages from his friends’ group chat, and the first few lines caught your eye, seeing your name in them.

“Can’t believe Lando actually went through with it.” “I know, right? It’s hilarious that she still doesn’t know!”

Your heart sank as you read further, each message a dagger to your trust. They were discussing you— about Lando making a bet involving you. Your hands trembled, and you scrolled through the conversation, your worst fears unfolding before your eyes.

“Thought he’d be gloating but he hasn’t contacted at all.” “Shit, man, he’s been with her for a year. I'm not paying him that much!”

You felt sick to your stomach. The room spun around you as you struggled to comprehend the magnitude of the betrayal. All those times you believed in Lando, trusted him with your heart— were they all just part of a cruel scheme? A fucking game?

You heard Lando approaching, unaware that you had seen everything. His smile faded as he saw the look on your face, the phone still clutched tightly in your hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked cautiously, sensing the tension in the air as he approached you with wide eyes.

This has happened before. Lando was always scared of coming home and finding it empty because you had found out about something he was afraid to tell you but in the past he was always wrong. It was a show, a friend, a book making you cry but today was different.

You held up the phone, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Care to explain this?”

Lando’s expression shifted from confusion to dread as he realized what had just happened. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off with a bitter laugh.

“Fuck, you really had me convinced!” Your voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “You made a bet? How much have you made so far, Mr. Norris?”

“Don't say that,” Lando looked like you had slapped him across his face. He reached out to you, his face pleading for forgiveness. “Y/N, I swear it wasn’t like that—”

“How much was it?” you demanded, the words laced with bitterness. “Bet you made a lot the day you finally got laid, huh?” “No!” Your boyfrie— ex-boyfriend screamed. His eyes were carrying moisture and you couldn’t help but scoff but he carried on. “I never took a single penny, Y/N. I.. I promise, I hadn’t even talked to them since the day i realized what assholes they were and—”

Lando’s face fell, his words faltering as he rushed forward to catch you in his arms, his tears finally falling once he saw your wet face. But the truth hung heavy in the silence between you, suffocating any hope of reconciliation.

Tears fell down your cheeks onto his arm as he kissed your head and whispered sweet nothings and sorry, I’m so sorry so so sorry sorry sorry, again and again against your head, blurring your vision. “I trusted you,” you whispered, voice breaking. “I loved you.”

The weight of it all settled on you, and you sank deeper into the couch, overwhelmed by the betrayal. The anger that fueled you moments ago now gave way to a deep, searing pain. How could he have done this to you?

Lando kneeled down before you, his own tears betraying the magnitude of his mistake. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, reaching for you. “I never meant for you to find out.”

He carried on but your ears started ringing when the words registered. Wouldn’t a person with nothing to be guilty about, accept the truth and make up? Why was he so hell bent on keeping it under a hush?

His words felt hollow, empty promises in the wake of his betrayal and you cut him off as you pushed him away from you . “Get out,” you managed to say, your voice hoarse.

Lando hesitated, torn between wanting to explain and knowing that no explanation would mend what was broken. “Please,” you whispered and it was so small, so scared that he got up immediately and nodded.

He kissed your head again and you let him linger as you closed your eyes,“I.. I’ll be back, baby.” With a final, agonized look at you, he turned and left, leaving you alone in the wreckage of your shattered trust.

The silence enveloped you, broken only by your ragged breaths and the echoes of his footsteps fading away. You hugged yourself tightly, trying to hold together the pieces of your heart that he had callously shattered.

As the tears continued to fall, you felt a different kind of ache—the ache of knowing that the love you had believed in was now a painful memory because yes, he was coming back but you wouldn’t be here.

Later, Lando would enter the house in hopes of finding you but just like his worst nightmare, you wouldn’t be there. You wouldn’t be there to hold him as he’ll slowly lose it running across the house while he’ll look for you. None of your things would be there.

Yes, he destroyed you but also himself.

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[s-awturn]

Other Plans || F1 Grid

cw: babies being cute, still a little anguish, overcoming, deliverance (hehehehe) and I don't know what else to say. Spanish, French, and some poorly translated Dutch, blame Google.

starring: LH44, CS55, CL16, LN4, OP81, MV1,

a/n: I rarely get requests for part 2, so don't judge me if I'm excited here. I loved writing the first part and I hope to make the second part just as good.

f i r s t p a r t

LEWIS HAMILTON.

You never regretted leaving.

As you might have guessed, Lewis never called or cared and even though you knew he wouldn't call, it didn't hurt any less. You had hopes that he would care, that he would come around, but he never took a step towards you and you wouldn't make the first move. You and the baby — a healthy, restless girl —didn’t need him.

The first few months were not easy, by God, dealing with all the changes of pregnancy, the demands of work, as well as cleaning and organizing your home was the hardest thing in the world.

But it was all worth it when you held your little girl in your arms for the first time. Bree was beautiful and had powerful lungs, because she cried so loudly when you laughed with happiness at having her. Not even the fact that she had the same eyes as Lewis shook his happiness. She was yours, and nothing in the world would change that.

You, your mother and Bree were walking down one of the streets of London looking for Christmas decorations, Bree was on your lap, looking at everything curiously, you hadn't taken her to London yet, both because you wanted her to get used to the climate and the quiet life in Naples and because of fear, you still didn't feel ready to face Lewis, because you knew he was always in England, mainly in the capital.

“Mamma, look!” she pointed to the store across the street, with the Christmas decorations you were looking for. You gave a proud smile and kissed her cheek.

“Good job, little bee, let’s go get our colorful balls from Santa Claus” you crossed the street and due to carelessness, you ended up tripping over someone. “Oops, sorry, I didn’t y-...” you started to say, however your voice trailed off as you recognized fucking Lewis Hamilton.

“Y/N?” His eyes, identical to Bree’s, widened as he recognized you and the baby in your arms. You straightened up, hugging Bree against you.

“Lewis, how are you?” you said cordially, but there was no sympathy in your voice.

“Mhmm, Well, I'm fine... And you?”

“Wonderfully,” you remained impassive. “Well, Merry Christmas, Lewis,” you said, walking past him until your name was called by the pilot.

“I thought you would give me news...” he hesitated for a few seconds “news about her” Lewis’ eyes fell on Bree, who was looking at him with the same curiosity.

“And why should I, Lewis? You said you didn’t want to have a baby, that it would hinder your career.” You hit a nerve with Lewis, because since your departure, he couldn't help but wonder if he had done the right thing. “I had no obligation and have no obligation to give you news about my daughter.”

He came closer and you kept Bree away from him, you accepted and healed from the pain Lewis caused you, but you wouldn't allow him to do the same to your sweet little girl. Bree didn't deserve to be hurt by Lewis's selfishness.

“She’s mine too, Y/N, you can’t stop me from seeing her” he said and you finally lost your patience, so you asked your mother to take Bree to the store, you would meet them in a few minutes.

“Don’t use that horrible argument with me, Lewis Hamilton!” you pointed your finger in his face. “You made it clear that you didn’t want her! You never called to find out about her, not for me or my mother, so don’t come with ‘she’s mine too’ because I won’t fall for that! You didn't even think twice before saying you didn't want her! And now you want to demand your rights? What the fuck rights do you think you have?”

He took a step back, Lewis didn't expect you to have such an intense outburst of anger.

“Y/N, I-I wanted to turn things around, go after you,” he bit his lip, thinking about how to continue, “but I was embarrassed... But now I'm willing-...”

“But I’m not willing, Bree doesn’t need you, I don’t.” you said emphatically “My daughter doesn’t need you, your regret or anything that comes from you!”

He tried to articulate some sentence, but no sound came out of his mouth.

“Oh, that is if you have any shame, of course. But don’t worry, when Bree grows up, I’ll tell her about you and she’ll decide whether she wants you in her life or not.” You assured “Until then, continue being the ghost you have been for these two years”

And without giving him a chance to respond, you follow your mother and Bree into the store, trying to ignore the panic that was ravaging your entire body, you felt like you were about to faint. But hearing Bree's spontaneous, sweet laugh was like feeling a cool breeze on a hot day; you didn't know how, but you were sure that Lewis would stay away.

And you didn't lie, Bree didn't need him, and neither did you. Your job was more than enough to maintain and take care of all of Bree's needs, you didn't lie when you said he wasn't needed, in nothing.

Finally you could sleep peacefully knowing that Lewis was what he wanted to be in your lives, a shadow.

On the sidewalk, Lewis saw you enter the store and through the window, he could see you and Bree together, it was clear how much the little girl was loved and well cared for. Lewis tried to imagine what the two years he had lost of his life, of the life of the daughter whose name he didn't even know, had been like. He thought of all the little moments he had missed.

There were few things Lewis truly regretted in his life, and letting you go and not being able to see Bree grow up was, without a doubt, the biggest regret he carried.

CARLOS SAINZ.

Sometimes you wondered how you had the courage to consider the idea of giving your twins up for adoption. You weren't lying when you said that the twins were the best part of your life. At five years old, the identical twins made your days in the French capital — the city you moved to after breaking up with Carlos — much happier and more joyful.

You didn't even care if the two of them were little carbon copies of the Carlos; Santiago, the older twin, seemed to have inherited much of Carlos' personality, he was a little reserved and even shy and loved board games, preferred books to any electronic game and loved football, while Martín had a lot of you in him, expansive and restless, your youngest son loves logic games like Rubik's cube and puzzles and was completely addicted to any kind of racing.

And they were little fanatical Atlético de Madrid fans, which you found sweet irony.

And it was this love for the Spanish club that convinced you to take them to Spain, so that the two could watch the Madrid Derby at the Cívitas Metropolitano, Atlético's official stadium in the city of Madrid. Thanks to your work as a digital influencer, you could give your twins the experience of watching the game directly from the stadium's box.

“C'est le meilleur cadeau d'anniversaire au monde! Merci maman!” (This is the best birthday present in the world! Thanks mommy!) Martín said, hugging you before running to the fence and seeing the field, where the players were warming up.

“Tu es la meilleure au monde, maman” (You are the best in the world, mommy) Santiago said before joining his brother at the railing. You sat down next to Andie.

“I didn’t think you were serious when you said you were going to bring them to Madrid just to watch the game,” her best friend said, also keeping her eyes on the twins.

“It’s their birthday and I had to come to Madrid anyway for work, so I thought I could combine business with pleasure... And I don’t plan on stopping my boys from having good experiences because of Carlos.”

In five years, you never received a text or call from Carlos to see how the twins were doing, or to see how you were handling things. Since their birth, it had been you, the twins, and Andie —she moved to Paris as well. You weren't lying, the first few months were horrible, you truly believed that you wouldn't be a good mother or be able to take care of two babies at the same time.

But Andie was an angel to you and your boys, helping you through the best and worst times. So much so that before long, Carlos was just an old and unwanted memory in your life.

When the game went into halftime, you and Andie took the boys to the snack bar in the box to get something to eat. You hadn't noticed that you were being watched since you entered the diner, Carlos had seen you, Andie and the boys entering. The pilot didn't expect to find you there, especially with two boys who looked like they were five years old.

Without thinking twice, he approached, keeping his eyes on the boys who wore Atlético shirts and their names on the back.

Santiago and Martín.

“Y/N?” he said fearfully, catching her attention. Carlos saw surprise flash in her eyes, but as quickly as it appeared, it was replaced by icy indifference. "How long"

“That’s right, it’s been a long time.” You placed your hands on the boys’ shoulders, aware that they were both shocked.

“C'est Carlos Sainz” Martín spoke softly to Santiago with wide eyes, not that Carlos was his favorite pilot, but the boy didn't expect you to know the pilot.

“These are Martín and Santiago, my sons.” You said, introducing the boys, watching the astonishment appear on Sainz’s face.

“What’s up guys? Enjoying the game?” he said, after a few seconds of shock. You knew what was going on in his head, Carlos was doing the math.

“We don’t talk to Real Madrid fans,” Santiago said with indifference and pulled Martín away from Carlos. You were so surprised that you laughed out loud, watching Carlos’ discomfort grow even more.

“I’m going after the brats and… And I think you guys need to talk,” Andie said, following the twins back to the to their seats.

You turned completely to Carlos, for a long time you missed him, especially when you wanted him to see the boys' first steps or when they spoke for the first time. You wanted him to see how special and good your children were, but he never cared.

It took a while, but eventually it stopped hurting.

Since then, all you felt was pity, because Martín and Santiago were absurdly adorable, loving and incredible children, anyone who could have them in their lives was lucky as hell.

“I didn't think I would go through with the pregnancy" he said and you sighed.

“And I wasn’t going to, but everything changed when I held them in my arms for the first time... I knew I could never leave them” you said and a smile appeared on your face.

“My parents would love to meet you... I would like to-” He starts to say but you interrupt him, already tired of that conversation.

“You wouldn’t like anything, Carlos, you have nothing to offer my boys but abandonment and cowardice,” you replied harshly.

He swallowed hard, Carlos looked embarrassed and regretful, but you didn't care, just like he didn't care about leaving you alone in that hospital.

“Y/N please understand, I wasn’t ready and-”

“I wasn’t either, Carlos,” you interrupted him, having no patience for his excuses. “I was simply thrown alone, in the middle of the hurricane, so if that’s your excuse, improve it.”

Your gaze towards him was hard, there really was nothing that could justify abandoning him.

“If it weren’t for Andie, I don’t even know where I would be right now! Maybe they’d both be in an orphanage or something, living on the streets.” Your voice was forceful, punishing, and accurate. “I almost, almost acted like a coward with them too, but I remembered that they had already lost their father, they couldn't be without their mother too.”

Carlos hunched over slightly, like you had just hit him in the face and damn, he wished you had.

“I will tell them about you, everything they want to know and if they want to look for you, I will not stop them, but until then, do not think that your presence near them will be welcome”

And you went back to where Andie and the boys were, you were surprised to notice that Martín hadn't taken his eyes off you for a moment. Your protective little boy...

You swallowed a painful sigh and stopped the tears from welling up in your eyes.

“Est-ce qu'il t'a fait du mal, maman?” (Did he hurt you, mommy?) He asked as soon as you sat down, you gave a calm smile and denied.

“It’s okay, honey, don’t worry.” you assured, sliding your fingers through his hair, Martín kept his eyes on you. “Are you enjoying the game?”

“Damn!” he said excitedly and you narrowed your eyes.

“What language is that, young man?” you asked, and he smiled as if he had been caught red-handed.

“It was an accident, mommy... Don't be mad, please,” he asked, making the same lost puppy face that Carlos had. My God, you thought it was impossible for them to look so much alike, but the twins were in fact carbon copies of Carlos.

“Go watch the game, I’m watching you” he nodded and ran to Santiago’s side, you sighed and saw Andie sit next to you. “I thought it would be worse”

“Me too... But you did well, to be honest, I thought you were going to throw the chair at him” Andie confessed and you laughed.

“Almost... I'll tell them the truth when we get back to Paris... And I'll let them decide whether they want to approach him or not.” you said, trying to keep your nervousness from setting in ahead of schedule. You would deal with the consequences when they came, that moment was just about the boys, would not spoil it with anxious thoughts and nervousness.

On the other side of the box, Carlos couldn't pay attention to the game, his mind was divided between the game and you and the twins. Carlos thought about how selfish he had been, he thought about how he would like to go back in time and change everything, to be able to live every little moment with you and the boys.

Carlos would like to be less stupid, but there was no way anymore.

CHARLES LECLERC.

After almost seven years, you were back in France, your parents were asking — or demanding, depending on your point of view — that you and Vivienne spend Mother's Day in the south of France. It was the first time since Vivienne was born that you had returned to Europe and although you loved the feeling of being home again, you couldn't help but be apprehensive, after all you didn't know if you were prepared for the possibility of meeting Charles. But you didn't let those thoughts ruin Vivienne's experience, the girl looked like she was going to explode at any moment with so much happiness.

The two of you took the train from Paris to Bordeaux, and Vivienne couldn't tear herself away from the window, enchanted by the romantic landscape of the French countryside, she commented on every little thing, unable to contain the excitement that made her shine.

“Let’s go to the dining car, amour, You need to eat.” You called her, trying to attract the girl’s attention, who seemed much more interested in the castle that disappeared through the train window.

“Will there be croissants, maman?” Vivienne finally turned away from the window.

“Of course, amour. Let’s go before they eat it all, shall we?” you led her out into the hallway, Vivienne chattered on and on, listing the things she had liked the most so far, that's why she still made a point of greeting the other passengers.

“It’s more beautiful here than Montreal, Mom...”

“Would you like to live here?”

She stopped in the hallway for a few seconds before turning to you, the indecision was clear on her little face “I don’t think so, I would miss home... And my friends, but we can come on vacation?”

“We can come to France whenever possible, amour.” you assured her.

The dining car was half full, but that wasn't what caught his attention, but rather coming across such familiar crystal-clear eyes. You knew the chances of meeting Charles in France were 50-50, but you didn't expect it to happen so quickly; suddenly you remembered why you spent so long away from your homeland. You saw Charles' smile disappear and his gaze fall on the girl in front of him, who, although she didn't look exactly like him, carried many of Leclerc's features in her own features.

“Let's sit at the table by the window, okay maman?” Vivienne asked, skipping over to the empty table, she didn’t even look to the side as she passed Charles.

"Of course, papillon, (butterfly) we can sit wherever you want.” You said, thankful that your voice came out steady, without showing the mess that was inside you.

You made Vivienne sit with her back to Charles, listening to the girl talk excitedly about the fields full of vineyards and the lavender plantations. Vivienne knew from the age of five because it was just you and her, you didn't want to wait too long to tell her the truth behind why just you were the one who went to the Father's Day presentations at her school. You remembered the pain tearing through your chest as you comforted your little girl who went to sleep crying for weeks on end, or all the times she asked why her father didn't like her. You wouldn't let anything bring that pain to Vivienne again, even if you had to throw Charles Leclerc out the train window.

“You’re not the waiter.” Vivienne’s inquisitive voice snapped you out of your reverie and you looked up to find Charles standing next to your table. Panic spread through you like wildfire. Vivienne knew that the man standing next to the table was her father, you didn't do much to hide it. “If you’re not the waiter, why did you come?”

“You have your mother’s sharp tongue,” he said, and you noticed the shadow of a smile on his face. “I’m Charles—”

“Leclerc, I know, I watch TV” she said, crossing her fingers on the table, you blinked a little dazed and took control of the situation, Vivienne didn't need to face a situation like that, not with you around to protect her, as you had been doing since her birth.

“What do you want, Charles?” you questioned seriously, the seven years away from him made you create a strong shield against the pilot's charm. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at you, there was no anger or contempt in his gaze, it had taken you the same seven years to understand that it had all been a huge failure in communication, however, that did not allow this to cause any more harm to Vivienne.

“I...” he stuttered, his gaze going from you to Vivienne without stopping “I came to greet you and...” he left the sentence hanging in the air, waiting for you or your daughter to reveal her name.

“You don’t need to know my name,” Vivienne said and your eyes widened.

You saw Charles' mouth open in pure astonishment, if you weren't expecting an answer like that, imagine him.

“What do you want, Charles? I don’t remember inviting you to join us,” you teased, enjoying his discomfort. You could forgive what had happened years ago, after all it wasn't anyone's fault he didn't want kids, but you fucking couldn't forget how it destroyed Vivienne for weeks. “Your girlfriend is waiting for you, and you are disturbing us.”

“Y/N I wanted to say that I'm sorry that all of this happened and...” his voice becomes a weak and distant thread, you just shake your head and raise your hand.

“There is nothing to be forgiven, Charles. That's in the past, there's no reason to bring it up again," you said sincerely, letting out a tired sigh. You wanted it to end soon, you wanted to get to Bordeaux soon. “Forget about it, leave everything in the past and go back to your girlfriend, we've been fine the last seven years without you, the next seven will be even easier, don't waste time worrying about us, we don't need you.”

He hadn't meant to be cruel or rude, but he wouldn't allow a sliver of it to reach Vivienne. Charles just nodded and walked away, you looked at Vivienne, who had tears in her eyes.

“Ma princesse,” you grabbed her hand, watching the little girl swallow her tears and give a weak smile.

“It’s okay, mom, I have you, it’s okay,” she said and went back to looking at the landscape through the window. You noticed that Charles had left. “I don’t need a father who didn’t want me”

You left the chair you were in and went to hug Vivienne, letting the girl feel how much she was loved, how much she didn't need Charles “I'm so proud of you, darling, so proud”

Outside, Charles was hyperventilating, he hadn't expected it to end like this, nor had he expected it to feel like a punch to his stomach. Suddenly, he questioned whether the choices he had made over the past seven years were good. But it didn't matter anymore, he had lost you and any chance of having... Having a family he never wanted.

It was already too late.

LANDO NORRIS.

Jordan looked at the cupcake with bright eyes, you wanted to cry when you saw the smile on your little boy's face. It was late afternoon and you wanted Jordan to be able to celebrate his first birthday on the beach, creating sand castles and playing with water.

“Happy birthday, my baby, I wish you to be blessed with happiness and love throughout your life.” you whispered, helping him blow out the candle. Jordan chuckled, grabbing the icing, smearing the blue sweetness all over his face. You let Jordan play in the sand and thought about everything that led them to that little beach in Spain.

After breaking up with Lando and receiving a court order that he didn't want to be related to you or the baby, you didn't know what to do with your life, I had a college degree, good internship experiences, but no one would hire a pregnant woman. With limited options and no support network, you've relied on the most unstable form of work: the internet. Your life wasn't the most glamorous or adventurous in the world, but people enjoyed watching you. You didn't care about fame or being known in places, you just wanted to make sure you could take care of the baby, make sure he always had a roof over his head and food on the table. No matter what shit you would do to make sure Jordan lacked for nothing.

Anything but crawling after Lando, begging for help or whatever the hell he could give.

You let Jordan play until he got tired, and only when the boy was almost asleep in the sand, you picked him up and decided to go back to the hotel. You balanced Jordan on your lap as you searched for your room key when you heard your name being called. You didn't expect to find Lando Norris in the lobby of the hotel you were staying at.

Not even by a miracle.

“What do you want here, Norris?” you asked, but you didn’t give him time to answer, you just continued on your way to the elevator. You heard him follow you and kept Jordan out of his sight.

“I want to talk to you,” he said tentatively. You stood in the opposite corner of the elevator, as far away from Lando as possible. “Is it his birthday?”

“And why does that matter to you, Norris? You’re nothing to him,” you said dryly, giving him a hard look.

He didn't even know what to answer, you couldn't understand what he was doing there, not after a year and seven months, not after that damn letter. What did he want there? Guarantee you wouldn't ask him for money? Ridiculous.

“If you want to know if I need your money, don’t worry, we don’t need anything from you”

Lando exhaled, you wouldn't give him a step, leaving him frustrated.

“I didn’t come for this... I know you’re... You’re dealing with everything well, I wanted...”

“What do you want, Norris? To see if I'm trying to scam someone to support my son? Being a gold digger?”

“Y/N I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, been...”

“What do you regret? Saying that I got pregnant so you could support me? That I wanted to pull the pregnancy scam on you? Or have you come to give me another court notice to deny your parentage with Jordan? If that's the case, don't worry, if it's up to me, your name will never be on Jordan's birth certificate.”

If shame had a portrait, it would be Lando's face.

“Please understand my side...”

“Your side, Norris? I was pregnant and you sent me away!!” you growled, trying not to wake Jordan in your arms. “I didn’t want money, I wanted support! I wanted you!”

You scoffed at the tears in his eyes, none of them made up for the times you cried alone, scared of the uncertain future you could have. If he thought you would be moved by his crying, he couldn't be more wrong. The elevator doors opened and you walked out, not caring about him following you.

“I’m sorry, I was scared!”

“I was too!” you lost your patience and heard Jordan’s whimpers. “Were you scared? Don’t be a hypocrite, Lando.”

“Let me... Let me apologize, let me take care of you two.”

“You can swallow your apologies, they’re worth nothing to me or Jordan, and as for your care…” you laughed “I won’t tell you what to do with it out of respect for my son.”

And with that, you slammed the door in his face. Hoping that Lando would go back to the same place he had come from.

MAX VERSTAPPEN.

Just as nothing hurt you more than Max's distrust, Annelise's birth healed you in immeasurable ways. The little girl became the little Sun in your world, illuminating corners you thought you would no longer visit after the breakup with Max.

When you left his house in Monaco, you spent a few days on standby, thinking about what to do, you had no one else to support you. You didn't know how, but before you knew it, you were standing on Sophie's doorstep in Belgium, you didn't expect to have the support of your ex-mother-in-law, but Sophie welcomed you with open arms, outraged by Max's attitude.

Sophie welcomed you as if you were her own daughter, helped you choose an apartment in Brussels — even though she wanted you to stay with her for as long as it took, she helped you in the first few months after Annelise was born.

Now, two years later, Annelise was spending so much time at her grandmother's house that Sophie had set up a room for her.

“Sophie, for God’s sake, don’t spoil Anne like that,” you scolded her, seeing the woman click her tongue and shrug, you knew your sermons would do no good, Sophie would continue buying gifts for Annelise.

“Nah, it’s nothing big and you know I’m not stopping any time soon,” she admitted, bouncing the little girl on her lap, Annelise was very entertained by the new teddy bear Sophie had brought. “How was the job interview? Did you get the job?”

You had applied for a job at the health center near your home, the hours were great, the pay was worth it, you just needed to find someone to look after Sophie.

“I was selected, but I need to find a good nanny to take care of Anne...”

“Y/N don’t be silly, you know I will take care of Anne with the greatest pleasure, I love taking care of her.”

“Sophie, I don’t want to give you any trouble...” you started to try to argue.

“Mom! I’m home... Y/N?” you saw Max standing in the middle of the room, staring at you in surprise, then looking at Annelise on Sophie’s lap.

“Max, you didn’t tell me you were coming, come in, I made your favorite cake, go get it from the kitchen, dear” Sophie said, she knew you weren’t ready to talk to Max yet, but the Dutchman had different plans.

You held your arms out to Annelise, who didn't think twice before jumping into your lap, you did your best to avoid Max's gaze.

“We’re going, Sophie... I’ll let you know when we get home,” you said in a whisper and crossed the room towards the exit, but Max grabbed your bicep, stopping you from leaving.

“We need to talk, Y/N... Just five minutes, please,” he said quietly, as soothingly as he could.

“We have nothing to talk about, Max.”

“Please, just five minutes,” he begged, giving Annelise a quick glance in his lap.

“Five minutes, no more.” You said, releasing your arm from his grip. “Sophie, can you take Anne please?”

“Of course, it’s no sacrifice for me, is it, mon bebé?”

Finally you and Max were alone, you were uncomfortable to the point that your skin felt itchy.

“I didn’t expect to see you here… I thought you would stay in Monaco”

“I had nothing to keep me in Monaco, I saw no reason to stay there, and Sophie welcomed me as if I were her daughter,” you said, putting your hands in your coat pockets. “Get to the point, Max, I have to go...”

He licked his lips nervously. “I wanted to talk about our daughter.”

“No, no, calm down, you don’t have a daughter, at least not with me, Annelise is my daughter and mine alone, your participation in her conception was purely accidental.” You said it without any emotion.

“I know I said stupid things that night, Y/N, but I want to make up for every single one of them, with you and with the girl” he said and you scoffed.

“Oh really? And what makes you think you have any right to her?”

“Y/N I’m her father” he said patiently, as he always was with you, until that night at least.

“Unless you request a DNA test, there is nothing to prove your paternity over Annelise,” you determined, taking a step towards him, “and don’t think I’m an idiot, Max, you always knew I was in Brussels with your mother, Sophie told you that the same day I arrived, because I highly doubt she didn't give you the biggest lecture of your life that night.”

He looked away, proving his point “and yet you never cared, you didn’t come to her birthday, or call when she had pneumonia, you didn’t even know her name until today, So please don't lie to me saying that you regret it or that you want to be a part of her life.”

You pressed your fingers to your temples, already feeling the pains of the inevitable migraine.

“Annelise will eventually find out about you, but until then, don't go near her, I won't allow you to be cruel to my daughter the way you were to me.” That was your final sentence before you went to get Annelise with Sophie. You didn't want to have to share oxygen with him any more than necessary. Max belonged to a past you didn't want to revisit.

He stood still in place, watching you leave with the girl, without giving you another look.

“There are stupid people, and then there’s you, Max,” Sophie said, approaching her son. “I find it absurd how you inherited Jos’s worst traits...”

He couldn't help but agree, Max was fucking dumb.

taglist: @spngi, @monacosprince, @camelliaflow3r, @simbaaas-stuff, @bsammy, @sabrinaselina55, @irenkaproszepana , @avni-sarai, @itsapurrfectstorm, @janeh22, @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs, @llvstrous099, @gotthemilk-69, @ladscarlett, @daemyratwst, @anewpersonthatexists, @loohs-world, @sarcastic-nerd

Some who requested to be tagged on the taglist unfortunately could not be located, if I forgot someone, please complain on ask, thank you, management.

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO S-AWTURN™ 🪐. I do not allow copying or republication. Any unauthorized publication will be reported.

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[mauvecherie-writes]

so ready: l.hamilton.

pairing: lewis hamilton x pt fem!black reader

summary: you’re his trainer, he’s him, the chemistry is undeniable.

warning: 18+ mdni, EXTREME SEXUAL CONTENT, pwp, fast paced, teasing, dirty talk, degradation kink?, unprotected sex, guys, I’m a slut - we sucking and fucking over here.

notes: I put a break on working on endless melodies, this picture called for my attention and here we are 😩. I also don’t know where the 3.5K words came from 😭 this was meant to be short.

w.c: 3.5K

tags: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @hersinsarescarlet @emjayewrites @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @felicity-x0 @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy

buy me a kofi.

You sighed as you walked through the underground garage of the building. You were mentally preparing yourself to be in your client’s presence. You wish you could have rejected his contract but it was such good money to resist - a resource that you needed at the time - and he was a good man. Refusing to train him would have not made sense outside of the biggest con being that you were attracted to him.

Deeply attracted to him.

Every session was a fighting battle and today would be no different.

It had been seven months since you started working with him. Lewis was very serious about his physical health but he was so flirtatious and it made it hard to concentrate on your job. But today, you promised yourself that you would be serious and not give into his little games.

On the elevator ride up to his penthouse, you trained your mind to block his advances and not give into his charm. However, whether you intended to or not, your outfit choice for the session was along the lines of cute and practical. The grey headband keeping your hair away from your face was matching the gym shorts that you were wearing. Your physique was on display without it coming off as a little desperate. It’s not like you needed to put in any type of effort anyway, you were beautiful enough on your own but the outfit was just a greater temptation for Lewis.

Even though you lied to yourself that you didn’t enjoy the game of teasing that you played with him.

“Lewis! I’m here!” You yelled as you walked through the lobby of his penthouse. The patters of Roscoe’s feet against the marbled floor rang through to your ears. The aging dog ran towards you and it brought a smile to your face. You bent down and grabbed the pup’s face into your hands and caressed the deep folds of his cheeks.

“Hi boy!” You spoke with a high pitch to your voice. “You’ve been good for your Dads when I’ve been away?” He licked the palms of your hands as he wiggled his tail.

“Yeah! Because you’re a good boy aren’t you? It’s your Dad that’s the trouble maker.” You said to Roscoe before standing up straight.

“Oh I’m a trouble maker now?” His voice was the first thing that you heard before you saw him. As you walked to the kitchen to wash your hands, you caught sight of him leaning against the living room area wall as he watched you.

Dressed in a dark grey fitted t-shirt and matching grey shorts with black thermals beneath. His locs were braided away from his face, forcing you to bare witness to his beauty.

“You’ve always been one, don’t act so surprised now.” You replied as you watched your hands. You may not be able to see him but you could feel his eyes on your back. You bit your lip as you wiped your hands and then turned around. Your hands were on either side of your body on the counter as you looked at him.

“When have I ever caused trouble for you darling?” He asked as he stood to his full height and moved closer to you in the kitchen area, stopping by the island and leaning fowards against it.

“Do you really want me to answer that question? Because I have a list of examples.”

He laughed at your response instead of answering. He knew exactly what you were talking about.

“Anyway. Are you ready for our session today? I don’t want any problems this time around. You have somewhere to be and so do I. So no funny games.” You stressed the last part of your statement - more to yourself than to him.

Lewis’s eyes were drooped low, his long lashes nearly touching the apple of his cheeks as they hung low before he trailed them from the exposed skin of your thighs to your flushed cheeks as you held in your breath. His teeth trapped the flesh of his bottom lip to restrict his smile from spreading as he stood up straight.

“I’ll be on my good behaviour. I promise.” His voice was an octave deep and laced with temptation. You knew then, that this training session would be anything but smooth sailing.

.

.

A good sparring session was a great way to end a productive session. Lewis stayed true to his word for most of the time but he’d throw in a flirtatious jab here and there that had you flustered. As much as you tried to hate it, you revelled in the way that those comments made you feel.

One last sparring session and you won’t have to see him for another three days.

You needed that breather.

“Come on baby girl. You can give it to me harder than that.” He teased as he bounced on his feet as he moved away from you. You rolled your eyes as you flexed your arms.

“I’m your trainer Lewis. I’m not supposed to be harder on you.”

“I can take it.” He shrugged. “That’s something you’re supposed to be saying in the right circumstances.”

“You’re a cocky little shit!” You stressed as your fingers flexed in the punching mitts before you began to run after him.

“There we gooo. Give me that fire, show me what you got baby.” He smirked at you. You fumed as you stopped chasing him and took off your punching mitts.

“Beating your ass would give me the greatest pleasure.” You said as you threw the mitts down before pulling the bandage wrap out of your open bag.

“I can do many things that can bring you pleasure that don’t involve us boxing.”

“Prove it.” You spat at him.

Before things moved forward, Lewis did the one thing that he knew would disrupt your focus.

He took his shirt off and kicked it close to the edge of the floor to ceiling mirror. All of the witty comments dried in your throat as you took him in. The defined muscles of his abs, the deep pelvis lines, the rich tan contrasting his tattoos and most of all, the budding chest hair.

Involuntarily, your thighs clenched at the sight.

He licked his lips as he watched you struggle for words. He could see the fight in your eyes as you were determined to not fall into the trap of your attraction but your body was failing tremendously.

Fine. You thought. Two can play that game.

Without warning, you grabbed the edge of your top and pulled it over your head. If Lewis thought his naked chest would disrupt you then you could pull the same card. Left in just your padded sports bra, you watched as Lewis became as speechless as you had been.

You were not going to make this easy for him.

Lewis finished wrapping his hands. “I’m ready.”

The both of you put up a good fight. Physically and mentally. Every hit, every jab, felt like a victory in the war of desire. Both of your bodies damp from sweat with how much energy you exerted during this ‘friendly’ sparring session.

You were winning. He asked for your all and you gave it. This was something just to prove to yourself that you could resist him. That you could withstand his charm and that your attraction didn’t lead you blind.

Then he grabbed your wrists and pulled younclose to his body. You gasped as he tightly held your hands behind your back trapping them by his torso as his other arm wrapped around your waist.

“Aren’t you tired of playing this game sweetheart?” He whispered in your ear.

“You started it. Of everyone, you should know how crucial professionalism should be.” You hissed back as you struggled to get out of his hold.

“How could I focus on staying professional when every part of me wants to explore every inch on you. And don’t try to deny it either. I see the way you look at me, the way you desire me in a way that would disgrace the gods.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he spoke. His words were the apple from the tree of knowledge and his voice was the serpent in the garden of Eden.

“I can’t pretend anymore.” He confessed. “I want you YN. I want you so fucking much.”

“Now you admit it.” You say as you squirmed. Lewis held onto you tighter.

“I never denied it darling.” He chuckled in your ear. “You did. We wouldn’t be having this back and forth if you had just admitted that you were into me the way I was into you.”

“That wouldn’t change the fact that I was compromising a client-employer relationship and my reputation just for some dick.”

“This dick would change your life baby.”

“You’re so fucking annoying!”

“Turn around and say that to my face.”

He spun you in his arms before another word could be uttered. You stared at each other with no words spoken as your eyes ventured from their eyes to their lips. The action causing you to lick your lips.

“Cat got your tongue?” He teased as his hands dropped to your waist and pulled you closer. The smile on his face held the promise of everything that he had teased and taunted you about. Wicked and sinful things that had your mouth watering at the mere thought of them.

Body to body like this, the wall that you had been building in your mind had come crumbling down. Not that you had put up that big of a fight anyway but the effort that had been exerted up to now was too much and you were giving it up.

You were ready. You were more than ready.

“You’ve been trying your hardest to break me. And for a while I forgot that I too can play this game very well.” You said as you hooked a finger around the strap of your bra and brought it down your arm.

“I want you Lewis, I do.” You finally admitted. “But you want me just as much, if not more.” You unhooked your bra and flung it across the room. He fought to push the bandages away from his knuckles before embracing you with his big hands running up and down your back.

“If you had just given me the chance, I would loved on you the second I knew that you felt the same.” He whispered as his hands trailed down your back and settled on your ass. He kneaded the flesh of your ass cheeks, drawing you closer so that you could feel his breath on the top of your lip.

You leaned forward and kissed him with all of your might. All of the pent up desire you had been holding at bay for the last seven months burst out of you. You pushed your body into his as he moved his lips roughly over yours, opening your mouth for the sweet intrusion of his tongue as he deepened the kiss. Your nails dug into his back as you wrapped a leg around his waist as you felt the lower part of his body pressing into you.

Lewis moved his hand from your ass, trailing it up your spine before cupping the back of your neck and pulling you inwards. You gasped as he nibbled on your bottom lip, pulling the lip into his mouth. Your pussy creamed at the realisation at just how hard his dick was as it rested against you.

“Let me taste you.” You said as you pulled your lips away. “Please.”

“Do you think you deserve it? After the way you made me feel for wanting you? You think you deserve my touch?”

“Lewis … please.”

“Take these off.” He growled as he tugged at your grey shorts. You made light work of them before stepping back into his embrace. Your small cotton panties were digging into the flesh of your hips but Lewis quickly tugged at the material and shoved them down the length of her legs.

His eyes focused back on your face as he felt your hands move down the back of his head and edge him closer to your core. He pushed your legs further apart as his fingers teased your hot skin. His eyes soaking in every reaction that he drew out of you.

“You have spend the last seven months playing hard to get but here you are, ready to crumble at the touch of my fingers.” Lewis whispered as he pressed kisses onto your stomach.

“You’re talking entirely too much for someone who has pussy staring them in their face.”

“And this pussy is glorious, believe me. But I need you to suffer a little bit.”

He gave you an inch by running his fingers teased along your slit but did not settle his fingers where you needed him the most. Instead of shoving his digits into your cunt like he wanted, he brought them to his lips and licked them clean.

“So good.” He said and then stood straight and buried his face into the crook of your neck. He licked at your flesh before sinking in his teeth. The way he drew your skin into his mouth caused you to moan.

“Lew, please. Please.” You begged before he claimed your mouth yet again. He kissed you hard with his tongue lashing against yours before his teeth sunk into your bottom lip causing the sweetest pain to shoot up your spine. You pushed your body against him as far as your standing position would allow.

He wrapped his hands in your sweated out hair which was reverting back to its natural curl pattern. He pulled away from your lips and stared down at you with the darkest look of arousal tainting his beautiful eyes.

You watched as a cocky smirk etched on his face. You knew Lewis had you. Once your inhibitions were shut down, it was very easy for you to turn to your desires. And that lust had you falling to your knees as you looked up at him as his cock swelled in the confines of his thermals.

You pushed the fabric further down his thick thighs until his cock was revealed and … holy shit.

You knew that Lewis had the inches and the girth to work with but you weren’t expecting it to be so … heavy? His dick was so big and thick but it was nothing you couldn’t work with. Especially with the smugness glazing his eyes, you took it as a challenge.

His legs were spread, standing tall and proud as his dick bobbed in front of you. Heavy, leaking and begging for your oral attention.

“Open your mouth.” He said as he held his cock by the base and pointed it towards your plump lips.

Your mouth quickly hung open and your tongue darted out to lick his tip. You swirled your tongue around the head before you slid most of his dick into your mouth and sucked. You were extra as fuck as you licked and slurped, wanting him to understand the sloppy, messy head that awaited him. That you had been fantasising about this moment for a long time and now you were going to show to show him what you were about.

“Sucking this dick so fucking good.” He groaned as he held your head and tipped it back before moving his hips so that his tip was brushing back against the back of your throat.

“This is what you needed huh? My dick in your mouth to turn you into a little slut for me.” You moaned around him as you stretched your hands out on his torso, feeling his chest hairs prickle against your palm.

You don’t answer him as you continue working your head up and down his length. He felt so good in your mouth. The muskiness of his scent was all that you could think off as your saliva pooled in your mouth the more he worked his hips, fucking your mouth.

You were so eager to suck his dick. You pushed your head down further, taking him deeper down your throat which caused his knees to buckle.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Lewis groaned as he fisted your hair tighter, looking down at you as you moved your head fast, spit bubbles building as your nose brushed against his pelvis before your hand came up to fondle with his balls.

“Just like that. Keep sucking me just like that baby.” He gasped as you continued sucking on him as if you were trying to take his soul. Sure, Lewis had brought you down to your knees but you were making him regret ever thinking that he held all of the cards. There were no words to describe just how good you were sucking his dick. Your hands cradling his balls, his tip repeatedly hitting the back of your throat - this was more than otherworldly.

When you pulled your lips away from him, Lewis felt like he could breathe as you moved your hand around his length in tight, circular motions.

“If I didn’t want to come inside of you, I would have come all over your beautiful face.” He spoke with a hoarseness to his voice before he manoeuvered you underneath him. The gym mats were harsh against your skin but you were past the point of caring.

“Fuck me.” You whispered as Lewis shifted your legs into the crooks of his arms as his dick rubbed against your opening. You reached up and claimed his mouth. His saltiness lingered between each entanglement of your lips. You tasted the remnants of your sweetness in his mouth the longer you greedily moved your mouth against his.

You didn’t care for the way the hard mats were biting into your skin. All you cared about what the surge of lust that burst through you as Lewis rubbed his cock against your cunt. His hand travelled up to your throat and squeezed as he positioned himself in between your legs. Every single gasp and little cry that he pulled out of you pushed him closer to the edge. His lips sought your earlobe as he raised your leg to his shoulder before he finally sunk into your pussy.

You were so soft. So sweet. So tight. So wet. You accepted him like you’d been waiting for him all this time and then clenched onto him so hard that Lewis so felt lightheaded before he could complete his stroke.

Lewis needed to regain his composure but you were a withering mess beneath him. Your scent like a cocoon around the both of you, he couldn’t find his bearings as he found a rhythm to his strokes.

Slow and deep as you arched your back and dug your nails into the skin of his back.

Your lips parted as you struggled to catch your breath with the sexy sounds of your pleasure reverberating through the room, bouncing off the equipment back into his ears.

Lewis let your legs fall back to his waist as he dropped to his forearms so that his body, slick with sweat, pressed against yours. You immediately wrapped both of your legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper into you as he resumed his slow, deep thrusts coupled with circular motions that always pulled a sharp, little cry from you beneath him.

For months he had dreamt you like this. Underneath him, begging and crying for him as he deprived your body of pleasure.

Your nipples grazed his chest as he moved. You trailed your fingernails down the length of his back as you pulled him in for frantic kisses as the both of you moved towards the inevitable conclusion.

Lewis pressed his forehead against yours as your pussy started clenching rapidly around him.

“That’s it, baby,” he demanded through his teeth. “Cum all over this dick.”

You screamed his name and it was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard. He covered your mouth with his, swallowing your cries of pleasure, thrusting hard and fast into you as he chased the orgasm building in him.

You scratched at his back, gripped the sheets and bit into the pillow even as you started moving your hips up to meet his dick.

“Lewis!” You yelled as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your orgasm plummeting through your body.

“That’s it sweetheart. Come all over this dick.” He growled into your ear as he bucked his hips hard and fast before the force of his climax had him tensing and twitching in between your legs.

You hummed softly as Lewis returned to himself once his muscles had stopped twitching. All that pent up energy had finally been released and the both of you were butt naked in his private gym.

So many lines had been crossed tonight but either of you cared. Especially when he kissed you senseless and promised you more orgasms than you were ready to give.

London fashion week be damned ….

[astonmartingf]

VOODOO DOLL ; LH44

lewis hamilton x mercedes driver!reader

. . . hamilton is a penchant for opposing teammates, and after the previous one he somehow got stuck with another, but after years of dominance new emotions develop between the two.

amgf i am a sucker for yearning and fluff and this is exactly that, lewis the man that you are... also if the format is different from previous posts it's because i'm testing out formats

death of a bachelor ; masterlist

[2025]

“You called us for this?” Alonso raised his brows looking pitifully at you sharing the same expression as Nico from the left side. You groan in your palms, hiding your face from the two men.

“This is a big deal okay. Why are you invalidating my feelings?” Mumbling under your breath, you reason out hoping for a sliver of understanding. It’s been so long since you bottled your feelings, and as much as you hate to admit it, you might start-

“No one is invalidating your feelings other than yourself amor, otherwise why would you call us to convince you that you actually like-”

“Okay, okay, okay. Shut up will you, it’s like you want the whole world that I like…” You turn around, checking the surroundings. “Lewis.”

Nico pressed his lip into a thin, a short sigh leaving his mouth, “You’re in denial and in love.”

You shot Nico an incredulous look, a scoff escaping your lips, “I am not in love. Alo, tell him.”

The older Spaniard grimaced, shaking his head. “At this point, you may as well be- four years? He’s already moved to Ferrari for God’s sake and you have yet to make a move.”

You groan once more, reminding yourself of the signs and signals you missed or accidentally dropped towards Lewis. “I have made a few moves…” Your voice thinning as you feel two pairs of eyes staring right at you.

“And I’m embarrassed to say that they also flew over Lewis’ head. So no, don’t ask me what I said, or did- just ignore what I said.” You rest your head down on the table, sad and moping.

Nico laughs at you, “Look at the state of you, hung over a boy.”

“He’s not just any boy Nico, gosh you’re acting like you moved on quickly from him- this is Lewis we’re talking about. Heck that was a semi-platonic relationship you had going on there, how am I supposed to cope with actually knowing that I can’t be in a romantic relationship with him?”

A gasp left your lips, hands shaking as your cover over them. Avoiding Nico’s gaze who was still laughing at you, despite your jab at his relationship with Nico and Alonso who took a sip from his cup of tea.

“So you admit it…”

Alonso broke the silence leaving you nodding to yourself.

“I actually- Fuck.”

[2023]

Lewis sits in silence, watching Nico squint his eyes from the other side of the table. “When was this?”

Gulping, Lewis didn’t think this far. He was ranting first, and then eventually spilling in some white lies in between before Nico filled in and connected the dots. He should’ve known Nico would catch on- Lewis is being too obvious. At least that’s what he thinks.

Sighing, Lewis mulled over his thoughts gathering his words before speaking it out into existence. The three words he’s been replaying over his head for the last two years- When did things get complicated?

“Two years ago? I thought about it far longer than I’ll admit. But I’ve recently come into terms with it…” Lewis nods his head, sitting in silence with Nico.

“And what happened? What’s different?”

Smiling to himself at the thought of you, Lewis goes through all the times you’ve managed to tug the tiniest of his heartstrings causing him to malfunction like the current state of their engine. It was pitiful, not just the team, but the state of his heart.

“I don’t even understand… Which makes me even more furious! How could she do that to me? I think about her all the time, she’s not even racing anymore. She’s nowhere near me, yet she’s all I think about, it’s driving me insane. And don’t get me started on whenever she’s actually on the paddock- I see her what? Once a month, I go to the F1 Academy races to get a glimpse of her. I'm such a loser. And her face! How could I not stop by and greet her, she’s always enthusiastic whenever I’m there- Not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty good company, and we are friends but God I wish she’d take in the signs I’m putting down. I like YN- too much at this point, I can’t believe it. And you! You’re laughing at my misery.”

Lewis raises his head, far too into his thoughts only realizing that Nico has been laughing at him for the past minute. His back flushed into the seat, legs crossed with arms resting on the table.

“At least one of us is enjoying this, because I’m a suffering loser, who can’t get a grip. She’s actually doing things to my mind. I’m acting crazy because of her.”

Nico bursts into laughter, “You’re- you have a lot to say about YN.”

Lewis scoffs, giving his friend a pointed look, “That’s all you have to say? Wow, I miss talking to you, but this- this is a personal attack towards me.”

Shaking his head, Nico wheezes at Lewis, “No, no, no… Think about it- look at you. It’s just funny to me, I remember when you first talked about her. You said, and I quote, “I will never like her as a teammate.” and you also compared her to me. Look at you now. I think it’s funny.”

Lewis shakes his head, disappointed. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget it.”

“No- you’re not taking all that back. Go on- tell me more.”

Lewis raises his brows suspiciously, “What? So you can tease me?”

Nico raises his hands in surrender, “Hey if not me who else would listen to you talk on and on about YN?”

“I know Seb would listen to me without judgment, and maybe Charles…” Lewis lists the few people in and out the grid who are aware about his feelings towards YN.

Nico raises his brows laughing to himself, “Oh Lewis, you truly are living in your own bubble- you’re too good for yourself. Guess how I know what you’ve been talking to Seb about? Right, he calls me to check on you.”

Lewis pales at the realization, how Nico is somehow always available, how he calls on the right time.

“And Charles, who calls Seb, who calls me. Right Lewis, there’s three of us- and you’ll always end up with me if you don’t get your act right.”

lewishamilton

liked by nicorosberg, charles_leclerc, and 21,582,953 others

lewishamilton me when my crush finally noticed me...

view 1,648,592 comments...

user1 EXCUSE NE? WHAT HAPPENED TO HELLO AND HI?

user2 am i seeing this right?

user3 the power of yn

user4 why would you assume it's yn?

user5 i mean who else could get lewis to post like this?

user6 bro got 21 million people watching this confession

nicorosberg this is what you got from our conversation two years ago? embarrassing, even i can do better than this

sebastianvettel5 he's trying, leave him be

charles_leclerc is this what we've been waiting for the last four years? the bar is actually low

user7 what do you mean 4 years?

user8 HELP, they're actually implying that this is for YN

user9 there goes the lewyn fans going crazy it could be anyone 🙄

user10 can't a girl have their fun, jeez leave people alone

user11 it's embarrasing

user12 they're actually eating lewis up with this

nicorosberg this is your plan?

lewishamilton yeah, it's working is it not?

nicorosberg i don't think so man

charles_leclerc is she even on instagram?

lewishamilton ...

sebastianvettel5 for someone who has a crush on this person for the last 4 years i might add this is actually embarrassing behavior

user13 what is happening?

user14 i love this too much what the heck

user15 i know they're grilling him in the messages

user16 another one for the history books 😤✍️🔥🔥🔥

user17 it's blow after blow for hamilton

user18 he's a loser in love actually, does it make you stupid?

lewishamilton i don't care if i look stupid i want her to see this

amgf ahahahahaha the end! uhm... enjoy 👍 this actually had me giggling and shit wtf, maybe it's lewis maybe it's the fluff but /sighs/ the lore i can add to this fic... just you wait 😤

[willowsnook]

Hello, could I get a tequila water in a cooper mug please? 💓

lewis hamilton x reader

let me take care of you

----------------------------------------------

"Fuck!" you heard Lewis scream as he stormed back into the garage after a disastrous qualifying session, finishing P19.

Something had gone wrong with the car during the sprint, and despite your efforts to direct a quick fix, it hadn’t worked. Sighing, you gathered the engineers, outlining what needed to be done before tomorrow to give him a fighting chance.

If this were last year, you would have already been in Lewis' driver's room, talking him through the race and offering comfort. Back then, you two had been inseparable, having worked together for over 10 years. But as time went on, tensions built, and too many hurtful things were said—things neither of you could take back. The final blow had been him announcing his move to Ferrari.

Flashback

"I don't understand why you're being like this, Lewis," you said, frustrated, as you both left another intense debrief.

"You're supposed to be helping me, but it feels like you're working against me," he snapped, and you rolled your eyes.

"We're doing everything we can for you, Lewis," you replied, exasperated.

He scoffed. "Just admit you're pissed that I’m leaving for Ferrari."

Your arms crossed defensively as you turned to face him. "Wow, glad to know you think so little of me. You're still a Mercedes driver."

"For now," he muttered, his tone cold. "Then I won’t have to deal with your bullshit anymore."

His words hit like a punch to the gut, and your eyes stung with tears. He realized his mistake instantly and tried to backtrack, but you held up your hand, silencing him before walking away.

End of flashback

That was the last real conversation you had with Lewis, and your heart still ached from it. You had been through so much together, and it hurt to see everything fall apart.

"Hey, I need to talk to Lewis," Toto said, interrupting your thoughts as you passed him in the paddock. "Can you grab him for me?"

You grumbled but nodded, heading toward Lewis' driver's room. Knocking, you didn’t hear a response, so you cautiously opened the door.

Lewis was sitting on the ground, his back against the wall, head in his hands. The sight tugged at your heart, but it wasn’t your place to care anymore—at least, not according to him.

"Toto wants to see you," you said, lingering by the door. He didn’t respond, didn’t even look up. You hesitated, then moved closer. As you approached, you noticed his hands were trembling, his breaths coming in shallow, rapid bursts. He was having a panic attack.

"Hey, hey," you said softly, kneeling in front of him. You gently placed your hands over his shaking ones. "It's okay, Lewis. Breathe with me, okay?"

You took a deep, exaggerated breath, trying to get him to follow, but his breathing remained erratic. Gently, you held up your fingers.

"Let’s count together," you said, and he nodded weakly.

"One... two... three..." you began, and he shakily mouthed the words with you.

"Four... five..." he rasped, his breaths slowing slightly. By the time you reached ten, he had calmed down, though a tear slipped down his cheek. You wiped it away, but he turned his head, embarrassed.

"I’m fine," he mumbled.

"Let me take care of you," you whispered, pulling his head to your chest. His arms wrapped around you tightly as silent tears fell, his body trembling against yours. "Oh, Lew."

"I don’t know what’s happening to me," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "I feel like everything is falling apart."

"It’s not falling apart, Lewis," you soothed, gently rubbing his back. "You’re still the same world champion you’ve always been."

"But what if I’m not?" he asked, looking up at you, his vulnerability laid bare. "I’ve already lost you. What if I lose more?"

"You haven’t lost me, Lew," you whispered, your voice soft but firm. "I’ll always be here, even when you try to push me away."

"I don’t deserve you," he said, shaking his head. "Not after what I said."

You cupped his face in your hands, making sure he met your eyes. "I forgive you, okay? This situation is tough, and emotions have been running high. But we’re going to be okay."

For the first time in a while, Lewis seemed to believe you, his grip on you loosening just a bit as he rested his forehead against yours.

Tears welled in Lewis' eyes as he held your gaze. "How do you know?" he whispered, his voice cracking with uncertainty.

"Because we always have been," you said gently, brushing a tear from his cheek with your thumb.

Lewis let out a deep breath, his shoulders finally starting to relax as he rested his forehead against yours. For a moment, everything was still—just the two of you, wrapped up in each other.

"You’re my home," he murmured, voice soft but full of conviction. "No matter what happens on the track, or in life... you’re my constant."

A warm smile tugged at your lips as you gently pressed your lips to his forehead. "And you’re mine, Lew."

With a deep exhale, he pulled you even closer, his grip strong but tender, like he was finally letting go of the weight he’d been carrying.

“We’ll be okay,” you repeated softly. And for the first time in a long while, Lewis nodded, believing it too.

[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.”

••••••••••

[oldfashioned-lovergirl]

Can I request a ff where reader is lewis hamilton's wife. Like they are married and reader is pregnant then lewis made some mistakes that caused them to fight one night. Reader get so angry/sad and it just makes lewis worried so much about her and grovel A LOT. High angst and fluff towards the end would be cute. THANK YOUU

☽ MOTH TO A FLAME — lewis hamilton x pregnant!reader

tags: jealous!lewis, pregnant!reader, angst, fluff

note: lewis is so the weeknd coded so i’ll name every fics about him as his songs

masterlist

✧༺ ☽ ༻∞　　∞༺ ☽ ༻✧

Your birthday party went well. Well, until your ex boyfriend showed up uninvited and Lewis went crazy about it. Apparently he just wanted to say hi, but the night ended with a physical fight.

When you came back home you were so mad you couldn’t look at him in the eyes, nor you could look at his wounded hand or at the cut on his eyebrow.

“Thank you for ruining my birthday.”

“Thank that prick of your ex.”

You threw your purse on the table. “Oh so it was his fault you pushed him first?”

“C’mon Y/N, he was clearly trying to fuck you.”

You turned to him with a disgusted look on your face. “Not even if he was the last man on earth. We were just talking. Can’t I talk to another man now?”

“He was standing way too close for someone who’s aware of your condition. I’m sorry, I saw red.”

Your gaze inevitably shifted down at your own belly. It’s been almost two months since you found out you were pregnant, so it wasn’t quite visible, though you could feel it very well. “And you think getting in the way between you and him couldn’t have hurt the baby?”

The realisation struck Lewis. “Oh my God, are you okay?” He tried to come closer but you stepped back.

“I’m tired of you being jealous of everyone. You’re supposed to trust me, you’re my husband. I…” You sensed tears in your eyes. Damn it, you didn’t want to cry again. “I should feel safe with you but instead I just feel anxious all the time.”

Lewis came close to hug you. “Don’t. Leave me alone.” You fought back, wiping your eyes with your hands, but that just caused him to strengthen the grip on you until you gave up and abandoned you in his arms. There was no point in trying to fight him.

“You’re right, that was stupid, I fucked up your birthday.” He laid a kiss on your forehead, slowly caressing your hair. “I’m gonna take you some water.”

He escorted you on the sofa and brought you a glass of water from the kitchen. He covered you with a blanket and sat next to you. He touched your cheek with his palm while you drank the water and then put it on the table in front of you.

“Better?” He asked.

“Better.” You looked at him. He had that Bambi look in those big brown eyes and trying to resist it was vain.

You suddenly realized his wounds were still hurting. You sighed. “Bring me bandages and something to disinfect that cut.”

“I’m good, I don’t need–“

“Lewis.” You interrupted him firmly.

He stayed silent. He then nodded, stood up and did as you told him. It certainly wasn’t a good time to contradict you.

When he came back on the couch, you began dabbing his face gently with a wad of cotton dipped in the solution. “He was such a dick.”

A corner of his mouth curved in a little agreeing smile. “Indeed he was.”

You carefully put a band-aid on his eyebrow, then proceeded bandaging his hand. He was watching every actions of yours. You understood he was actually sorry for what he did and you couldn’t help but forgive him. His intentions towards you were kind hearted after all.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re my life. You both are.” His bandaged hand slid down on your belly.

Your hand joined his. “And you’re mine. You know I wouldn’t trade you for anyone else in the world.”

You laid on the couch and he followed you, resting his head on your chest and his body next to yours, careful not to press his weight on your womb.

Your fingers travelled in his soft braided hair. “Besides, there’s nothing about him you should be jealous of. You have everything he doesn’t have.”

“You mean a beautiful wife?”

“I was about to say seven world championships, but I guess a beautiful wife will do as well.”

You both laughed.

He squeezed you more with his arms around your back, turning serious once again. “How are you feeling?” He asked, although he was the injured one.

“Don’t worry, it was nothing.” You stroke his back with your hand. He was so strong, it felt so good having him curled against you like that. You couldn’t imagine anybody else to build a family with.

“I was scared I hurt you. I don’t want to fight. Not only for the baby, I don’t ever want to fight with you.” He kissed your abdomen and buried his face in your neck.

“It’s okay, you could never hurt me.”

[thisismeracing]

King of my heart | MS47 | Part. 24 (ending)

― Pairing: Mick Schumacher x hamilton!reader ― Word count: 1.2k ― Warnings: none I guess. ― Summary: Mick Schumacher rode a lousy wave for quite some time, so when the sky gets cleaner and the sun brighter he just knows something terrible may be in store for him. Whereas y/n was just so magnetic, and the possibilities of life with her seemed better than anything his mind could ever create, that’s why, for the first time in forever, he threw caution carelessly through the window, hoping to get to the finish line before it catches up on him.

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part. 23 | series masterlist 

Mick paced around the room again, and for the looks of it, it wouldn’t take him long to dig a hole in the exact spot his racing boots were hitting.

“We don’t have much time, Mick, you gotta get ready,” Gary, his engineer, knocked on the door, opening it just enough to look at the German.

“Where’s Yn?” 

“You mean Yn Hamilton?” he asked, just to make sure and Mick tried to keep his eyes from rolling, too stressed to answer properly, but too polite to give a rude answer to Gannon who was friendly most of the time. The engineer took on the driver's silence, and tried, “I think she’s with Lewis. Want me to get her?” 

“Get who?” just from Yn’s voice Mick could guess she was smiling. That bright and big smile he loved so much. The only smile that would be able to calm his racing heart.

Gary waved to Yn opening the door wider for her, he motioned ‘5 minutes’ to Mick and left the lovers alone giving them as much privacy as a small driver’s room could. 

“Hey, mouse, what's the matter?” she walked inside and towards him, tipping her face up so their lips could meet in a quick peck. 

Mick, however, had other plans.

His hands found purchase on her waist, bringing her body impossibly closer, and his tongue took advantage of the surprised gasp she let out to sneak inside her mouth, tasting her sweetness. Yn grasped his blonde locks between her fingers, and corresponded the kiss as much as she could, feeling how nervous he was.

When the air made itself scarce, the driver hid his face in the crook of her neck. 

“I’m nervous, what if I fuck it up? What if I crash? What if the car is shitty? What if–” Mick started, voice trembling, finally letting his walls down, and showing someone how vulnerable he was feeling.

Sure they had this conversation before, and sure Mick Schumacher knew he was a great racing driver, but he was also a human being and, of course, he had his own insecurities and doubts. 

Yn held his face between her hands, leveling it with her own, and looking him in the eyes. His big blue orbs looked at her with adoration and fear all mixed in one, and she smiled sympathetically. 

“Close your eyes,” she commanded in a soft tone and he obeyed. “Hear this rustling of people walking around from one side of the other working non-stop?” Mick nods keeping his eyes shut, they’re chest to chest so listening to her soothing voice and feeling her breath evens his. “They’ve been working for a while now so everything is perfect for their number one driver. They’re not sure if the car will beat that Red Bull witchcraft, but they’re doing their best, and they counting on you to do your best as well. It doesn’t matter if this combo doesn’t get you a podium today, there’s always next Sunday. They got the will to make it happen, and they got the driver to do so too. Leave the past in the past, get in that car, and do what you love doing, do what you know you can do, and also what you don’t know you can do yet. We’ll be here watching, rooting, working, and praying.” 

Her comforting words and soft tone made Mick lean even more on her touch. He smiled, nodded, and kissed her forehead. 

“Where–”

“Here,” she was quick to answer, already knowing he was going to ask from where she would watch the race. Lewis was racing as well, and before Sunday rolled around Yn was asked this question by a lot of people, her brother included. “I’ll watch it from here, you may see me cheering when Lew overtakes others, but I’ll be here rooting for you too. And I don’t care about the outcome, you’re my number one.” She whispered the last part and Mick smiled, kissing her yet again. 

“I love you.”

“I love you,” she echoed back, lacing her hands around his large shoulders and enjoying his warmth. “You’re also looking hot as fuck in this new racing suit, please tell me you can sneak one in your bag tonight.”

Mick laughed and nibbled on her neck just enough to make her whine, but before he could give Hamilton a witty answer, there was a knock on the door. 

“Go out there and kick ass,” she kissed his chin, and smiled, turning to the door.

And that was exactly what Mick did. He turned the first race of the season into a show. His show. Everyone watched on the edge of their seats as time after time he overtook cars and climbed up to the podium. A fight for the podium went on on the last turn – Lewis, Mick, and Max were fighting for first place, and in the last seconds the Schumacher overtook his future-in-law, hatching the first place and surprising everyone.

The camera panned on Yn watching the race from the Porsche’s garage, and the way she smiled and cheered when Mick got his first win of the season on the first race of the season during his first year with a team that was racing for the first time. It was a first, and how sweet it tasted for everyone. Even for Lewis, who ended up getting second place, but celebrated as if that was his win too. 

The team ran for the celebration, and Mick went straight for Yn once the car was parked and the helmet was off. There wasn’t much thinking into it, he just saw her there crying and smiling wearing his team’s merch, his number on her body, his initial dangling from a chain around her neck, Mick couldn’t do anything but kiss her lips in front of the cameras. The cheers and flashes faded during the seconds their lips were sealed, he hugged her close, before jumping on top of the crew. Lewis walked to his sister after the congrats from his own team, he hugged her and they smiled as brightly as ever. 

After the podium celebration and interviews, Mick walked back to his garage finding Yn and Lewis there. They were side by side talking, both smiling, and Mick couldn’t help but remember the first time he saw Yn. That day she was talking with Lewis too, it was also the beginning of the season, and now, just like before Mick felt like he could stare at her forever. Yn looked stunning wearing Porsche’s shirt and baggy jeans, the colors of the shirt creating the perfect contrast with her black skin. Her curls were tied on top of her head after the long day. She was stunning, and now he was the one walking into the room, walking to her, his girlfriend. 

His heart was doing somersaults inside his chest. 

After so many days of worrying and agonizing about the future, he was here with a seat on a great team. After so many days of fear about his relationship, Yn was here, as sure as ever about their commitment. After so many times unsure of the future, Mick was happy with the unknown, happy to discover it with Yn, happy to build his own legacy, happy to experience life to the fullest, and even happier to rule the kingdom of Yn’s heart because he knew damn well she was the queen of his heart, body, and soul. 

She was the one he had been waiting for.

“There he is,” Yn said taking Mick from his thoughts and walking towards him again. “My number one,” she whispered hugging him, “the king of my heart.” 

And nothing ever felt as right as being in her arms.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, honeybees! I hope you guys liked this. I know it's been a while since I last updated, but it's finally here, and I'm happy to end (or give a pause to it, considering I won't stop thinking about mickyn in the context of komh) this journey. Thank you so much to each and every one of you who liked, reblogged, commented, sent asks, and gave me the motivation needed to get this together. This wouldn't be possible without you, thank you! <3 I hope to see you guys in a new series soon. Meanwhile, make sure to tune in to my account and read all the new blurbs and pieces coming. I may post a bonus piece (or rather a smau epilogue) hihi.

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[lvis44]

Sweet Escape Pt. 6 // LH 44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Swearing, 18+ (mentions of sexual activities), Anxiety, Jealousy, Angst, Mentions of Alcohol, Regret, Emotional Turmoil, Not Edited

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Paradise is supposed to be fun and relaxing... a Sweet Escape, but when unspoken feelings and jealousy rise to the surface, everything can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.

Note: I felt bad leaving you all in pain, not that this will be much better but hey, we're getting there! This part is a tad shorter but I felt that this whole thing should be stand alone. The next part will be the final part of the story, but don't worry there will be an epilogue. I'm glad you have all been enjoying so far and I greatly appreciate everyone's support!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

Previous Sections: Prologue - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five

It was nearing three in the morning when you heard your door open. The second you had arrived home you had grabbed your stuff out of Charlotte's room and moved back into your old one. You weren’t particularly in the mood to face anyone. You had spent the last few hours quietly sobbing into your knees, balled up on the bed like a child. You had seemingly run out of tears but the sorrow didn’t change. You hadn’t even heard everyone come home, somehow beating them even on foot, you assumed it was because they had to go find everyone else.

“What?” You snapped at whomever had entered your room, not even looking toward the door.

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” You heard Miles’ voice from the doorway, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Do I seem fucking okay?” You snapped again, your filter long gone.

He let out a sigh, closing the door behind him softly as he dared to make his way over to your bed, sitting down beside you gently.

“I’m sorry Y/N, it wasn’t fair to you to cause a scene like that.” He says softly, glancing over at you to see you staring into space, your attention fixated on the blank wall to the side of the room.

You scoff, not trying to be rude but unable to control anything that comes out of you, “Well at least one of you knows how to fucking apologize. I’m still mad at you though.”

You hear him sigh again, moving closer to you so he can place a hand on your back, rubbing softly. You don’t even have the energy to flinch away from him, just letting him rest his hand there and enjoying the slightest bit of comfort.

“I know you’re pissed at Lewis, you have every right to be. Don’t kill her but Charlotte kind of filled me in when we got home. He massively fucked up.” His hand continues it’s light circling pattern, “And truth be told so did I. I don’t know why but I constantly feel like I need to protect you and hearing that asshole call you anything other than perfect made me want to kill him, he’s honestly lucky Lewis had half a brain to pull me away from him. I know you can take care of yourself but I’m always gonna look out for you, no matter what. Hence the reason I tried to deck my best friend earlier tonight.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” You whip your head towards him, that last bit of information really catching your interest.

“Yeah, when Charlotte filled me in I was still livid with the whole situation from the bar and finding out what sparked it really pissed me off. It only felt right he get at least a swift kick to the groin. Not to disappoint you but Char stopped me. I’m shocked you didn’t hear us.” He almost sounds like he wants to laugh as he tells you, like he can’t believe the whole situation himself.

“He needs a kick to the groin, taking that thing out of commission for a little while might do everyone some good.” You joke dryly, making Miles laugh next to you.

“If you need me to do it, I’m more than willing.” He offers, only kind of a joke, you feel like if you genuinely asked him to do it, he would, given the circumstances.

“I hate that I can hate him and love him all at the same time. I don’t want to lose him, but this can’t carry on this way.” You confess to Miles.

“I know Charlotte already said this to the both of you, but you guys really need to fucking talk.” He tells you seriously, before adding, “And sober.”

“I know, I know.” You groan, “I’m sorry we’ve managed to fuck up so much of vacation.”

“It’s been much more him than you sweetheart, he brought every ounce of drama himself. I could tell something was up with you over the last few days but I couldn’t really figure out what. I’m sorry it’s him.” Miles brings you in for a side hug, his arm wrapping protectively around you.

“I’m just so fucking sick of it all. I’m so tired.” You tell him, leaning against his shoulder.

“I know, understandably so.” Miles lets out a sigh, holding you in silence for a few moments. “You get some sleep and I’ll check on you in the morning, okay?” He says as he presses a kiss to your temple.

All you do is nod, knowing he’s right.

“I know you’re not all good or anything, but I’m glad you're still here. I was worried you were gonna be at the airport by the time we got home, we freaked for a second when we saw your stuff wasn’t in Charlottes anymore.” He tells you quietly, still not having let you go.

“I just didn’t want to have to face anyone, figured moving back to my old room would be the easiest way.” You just about whisper, feeling your exhaustion catch up to you.

“Well, I’m sorry to have intruded, but I needed to check on you,” Miles says, kissing your forehead one more time before easing you back toward your pillows, “get some sleep hun.”

. . .

You had no idea what time it was when you finally woke up and you have no idea how long you’ve been laying in your bed staring at the ceiling. It has to have been a good hour at this point. You can hear people moving around somewhere in the house, the last thing you want to do is go and interact. You were embarrassed, angry, hurt, and so much more you couldn’t even wrap your head around. You’ve had enough. As you’ve been laying there, more than once you’ve contemplated if you could manage to pack your stuff and sneak out of the house, fly back home without another word. You knew you couldn't and more than likely someone would come track you down the second they knew you were gone, well normally they would. You don’t know what your friends know of the situation. How much did everyone else see, how much had they been told? You knew you should get up and eat something but you had no appetite, anxiety and dread having taken over your body. You lay there going through your thoughts for more than an hour. You want to sit down and talk with Lewis, you need to, but the anxiety of the possible outcome is paralyzing you. What if he confirms your fears, admits that all he’s ever been trying to do is get it your pants? What if now that you’ve shut him down he doesn’t see a reason to keep you around anymore? The rational part of your brain knows that you're overthinking, that your friendship with Lewis still stands on semi solid ground. Maybe there will be some change to how he is around you or how often he’s with you but at the base of it all your still close friends. Lewis knows things about you that your own family doesn’t, he’s been able to read you better than you can read yourself on more than a few occasions, all of that can’t go up in smoke this quickly. Can it?

There’s a soft knock on your door, making you groan. You don’t respond hoping they’ll go away. They don’t, only knocking again and gently pushing the door open. You roll your head to the side, seeing Miles peeking his head into your room, a comforting smile on his face. True to his word, here he was to check on you.

“Good morning,” He says softly, making his way into your room once he sees you’re awake, “I brought you something to eat, you need to get something in you.”

You give him a small smile as he places a tray of fruit and a large glass of ice water on the table next to your bed.

“Thanks.” You croak out, your voice hoarse from crying all night.

“Everybodies in their rooms for the most part if you need to venture out of hiding at any point.” He tells you, knowing you’ve been avoiding everyone, but one person in particular.

You just nod, taking a small sip of the cold water. It feels amazing on your burning throat, as if it’s your first drink of water after a month in the desert.

“What time is it?” You ask, trying to get some bearing on where you are in your life, even if it's just the time of day.

He glances down at the watch on his wrist, “Just before noon.”

It’s still earlier than you thought it was at this point and it fills you with a small sense of dread, there’s so much more of the day to go about trying to avoid everyone.

“You know no ones mad at you, right?” Miles makes sure you know that there’s no hostility facing you in the house.

You just shrug, unsure of how true that actually is and also not quite wanting to admit that it’s more so that you’re embarrassed to even see your friends. There’s another soft knock on the door and you're praying it’s Charlotte, the only other person you could bare being around right now. Much to your dismay, a very tired looking Lewis pokes his head around the door that Miles had left ajar. Your breath hitches, anxiety filling your body.

“Oh, shit, sorry, I’ll um-” Lewis stutters, not wanting to interrupt your chat with Miles.

“All good man, I was just gonna head out anyway.” Miles says, standing from where he had sat on your bed.

You know Miles can sense your anxiety but he gives you a look that says “just get it over with” and heads towards the door. Before he exits he turns back toward you and says “Holler for me if you need anything, alright?”

He whispers something to Lewis as he walks out and you can see a pained expression on Lewis’ face at whatever he said. Once he’s gone, Lewis stands awkwardly in the doorway, not quite being able to look at you as he plays with his hands down in front of him.

“You can come in.” You squeak, not actually fully wanting to say it but knowing it needs to be done. 

He finally looks at you, putting his hand on the door as if to close it but you can see the question in his eyes. You nod, not wanting your whole conversation to be heard by everyone in the house. He very gently pushes the door closed, making his way further into your room. He looks around, evidently unsure of what to do with himself. He opts for perching on the edge of your dresser just across from where you sit on the bed, you’re facing each other and you can feel your stomach filling with butterflies, but not the good kind you usually get when you’re around him.

“I owe you an apology, well, multiple apologies.” He finally says, looking down at the ground, ashamed. His voice is hoarse as if he’s just woken up.

You don’t say anything, unsure of what you would even say.

“I’m sorry for the way that I’ve treated you. I’m sorry for not talking to you sooner. I’m sorry that my company embarrassed you in front of everyone. I’m sorry for my behavior last night, all of it. I’ve treated you in a way that if anyone else did the same to you, I would hate them.” He finally apologizes for the last few days, finally looking at you as he does so.

He looks exhausted, much older than usual with bags under his eyes and more scruff than you're used to him allowing.

“Thank you,” you whisper, “and I’m sorry I avoided talking to you too.”

He shakes his head, “It shouldn’t have been on you to fix, I’m the one that fucked up.”

You offer a small smile in his direction. All is not immediately forgiven and this conversation needs to continue, but hearing him acknowledge the reasons he needed to apologize in the first place does your heart some good at the very least.

“Why did you do it?” You ask quietly, your voice timid, not sure you truly want the answer.

He looks surprised by the question, also not quite sure how to respond. He lets out a sigh as he collects his thoughts.

“I know it doesn’t make it right,” He starts, pausing for a moment to make sure his words come across as clearly as possible, “but, it’s been on my mind for a long time. I’m well aware that I went about it all wrong, especially last night, I was incredibly out of line last night, but I’ve thought about it alot.” He cringes at his admission.

You furrow your brow, worried this is going exactly the direction you feared, hoping he will continue.

“I don’t mean for that to sound creepy, but I’ve been really attracted to you for quite a while. I should have made that clear in a much different way. I never want you to feel like I’m trying to take advantage of you in any way, it makes me sick to think that I have ever made you feel like that.” He says, a look of regret on his tired face.

“What I said last night was harsh, my drunk brain just felt like it was the best way to get my point across.” You admit to him.

“But it wasn’t really that harsh, despite it not being intentional, it’s kind of true. What I said on the other hand, that was harsh, I never should have called you a tease or said you indulged in it, it wasn’t fair.” His words are firm, for the first time he’s holding steady eye contact with you, demanding your attention so you feel the remorse in his words.

“I need to be honest, it really hurts that you’re able to treat me like all the other girls you fuck around with, I thought I was more important to you than them.” You quietly admit to him.

“Fuck, you are. So much more important to me.” He says, finally moving from where he’s been leaning on your dresser and cautiously making his way toward where you sit on your bed. He carefully sits next to you, leaving a good distance but making sure he’s near you.

“Then how can you be so okay with chatting up the bar tender, grinding on some random woman, and then still come over and try to fuck me, yet again. All because your ego couldn’t handle me dancing with someone else, when you were doing exactly the same.” You push, needing him to truly understand just how shitty his actions made you feel.

“You’re right, I was jealous. In my ideal world you would have been dancing with me all night, but I knew you wouldn’t have allowed that where we were in our relationship. And then you found that prick and the way you were with him, it just set something off in me. I wasn’t thinking. I know that sounds like a horrible excuse but there was part of me that was hoping I could make you just as jealous as I was, not that you would be when you’ve made it clear you’re not interested, and I should have respected that. Between the alcohol and my ego, I let myself treat you like shit and there’s no excuse for that, I would take it back in a heartbeat if I could.” His face is sincere, you can tell just how much he regrets last night but it doesn’t automatically let him off the hook. He continues “And as for the bartender, I wasn’t chatting her up, she’s an old friend. I’ve never slept with her and never will, she’s like family. I got distracted talking with her and by the time I found you again you had that Jason dude on your hip.”

You want to laugh, not only at him forgetting Jadens name, but also at him saying you’re not interested. He has every right to assume you’re not, you’ve done nothing but turn him down. You almost want to tell him just how wrong he is, how the only reason you said no is because you don’t want to lose him, but right now is not the time for that, you don’t want to open any windows and derail the conversation that so far is going shockingly well, even if it hurts.

“Is she the woman you went to after your fight with Talia?” You push him slightly, hoping to get more out of him while he’s being so honest with you.

His face screws up for a second, confused how you would know that. You see the questioning look on his face and rush to clarify, to confess.

“I know you lied to me that night, or at least I kind of hope you did. I overheard you and Charlotte talking the next morning, something about a woman named Marina.” You explain.

He lets out a deep sigh, “Yeah, I’m sorry I lied to you. I wasn’t particularly in the mood to explain the whole situation. But to answer your question, yes, that is the woman that I went and saw.” He doesn’t offer any further explanation, you want to push him but you allow him to leave it at that, at least for now.

You both sit in silence for a moment, trying to figure out where to go from here.

“Lewis,” You say quietly, getting his attention, “I don’t want to lose you.”

His face morphs into absolute sorrow and pain, for a moment you worry that he’s mourning your friendship, not knowing how to break the news to you.

“Y/N, you’ll never lose me. I would go crazy without you.” His voice is soft but sincere as he carefully scoots closer to you on the bed, testing the waters slightly. You let him get close enough that your knees are touching, his hand coming to rest over yours, squeezing tightly.

“How do you think I could ever let you go?” He asks with a deep frown.

“Because you seemed to be okay with ruining our friendship just to get me in your bed.” You accuse him, your voice wavering.

“Sweetheart, I was never trying to ruin our friendship, I-” He takes a long pause, gathering himself with a deep breath, “I don’t know how to explain it exactly, but truth be told, me trying to get you into bed was never just me trying to sleep with you. It’s been a long time since I felt for someone how I feel for you and I’m not good at making that clear. I don’t even truly understand everything that I feel for you but, I know it’s a whole lot more and a whole lot different than how I feel about all of my other friends. I guess somewhere in my head I felt like I could get that across physically, that maybe it would make everything make sense once I had you. I know it sounds ridiculous but I don’t know how to do this.”

His confession both shocks and confuses you, your mind flitting back to the night he disappeared after his fight with Talia. That night he had told you that he had feelings for her, now he was trying to convince you of his feelings for you.

“What about Talia?” You ask, voice still unsure.

“What about Talia?” He throws back at you, confused as to why she matters right now.

“The night that we talked, after your fight, you told me you were worried that you had messed everything up with someone that you cared about or liked a lot, I don’t remember exactly what you said but…” You trail off, a slow moment of realization coming over you.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he looks down at the ground before returning his eyes to yours, “Y/N, I was talking about you. In no universe was I ever even considering Talia.” His words confirm what you’ve just realized and you want to slap yourself, you feel like an idiot.

“I- oh my god.” You breathe out, shutting your eyes. His eye contact suddenly feeling like too much.

You stand from the bed, disconnecting your hand from his. He stays seated, looking up at you as you begin to pace, letting you process what he’s said.

“How long?” You ask suddenly, stopping and looking at him.

“In all honesty, I don’t really know. I only really realized it sometime last year. I was thinking it would go away, that it was just some silly crush, but it just kept getting worse.” He explains, shrugging his shoulders as if it’s totally normal.

“So all the time that you were sleeping with all these other women and still flirting with me was, what?” You feel yourself getting agitated, not quite sure how to feel about his actions.

“I kind of figured that if I kept sleeping around that I would be satisfied and I wouldn’t feel the same way, but I couldn't help but keep flirting with you, it’s just naturally how I am with you, it feels right.” Once again he shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

“Do you not want to feel this way about me?” You ask quietly, a slight sting of rejection settling over you.

“No, no, that’s not it at all.” He rushes out, standing to approach you, carefully he puts his hands on your arms, making you look at him, “It’s not at all that I don’t want to feel this way about you, I’m glad I do to be completely honest. It’s just that I’ve been single for a very long time and I truly do not want to fuck this up, I’m scared that I’m going to and I’m going to lose you. It felt like everything would be so much easier if I could just keep being your friend and keep you in my life. But that didn’t happen, I still managed to fuck it up.”

You can feel tears forming in your eyes, he notices them too, a look of regret on his face.

“So what do you want?” You ask him, needing more clarity.

“All in all, I want you, I want to do this with you and god I want to not fuck it up. I want you to be mine, all mine, all in.” He says confidently, much more sure of himself than you feel.

You stare at him as the tears start to roll down your cheeks, your emotions are at an all time high. Part of you is filled with pure ecstasy, the man that you have crushed on for years is standing here in front of you confessing his feelings, asking you to be his. The other part of you is filled with absolute fear, the thought of trying and failing with him, losing one of the most amazing men you have ever met, your best friend. You know that a life with Lewis could either end in the most beautiful love you have ever experienced or the worst, most gut wrenching heartache known to man.

“Can I hug you? You look like you could use it.” His voice is soft, his heart aching as he watches you cry.

All you can do is nod as you let yourself fall into his hard chest. He holds you against him tightly, rubbing soft circles on your back as he once again lets you cry into his chest. You’ve done this too many times in the last twenty four hours. He stays silent, just letting you work through your emotions. When you finally calm down you pull your head from his chest but he keeps you tight against him, one of his hands coming up to wipe some remaining tears from your cheek. You revel in the feeling of his touch, how comforting a simple action can be. As you stare into his eyes you can see how much emotion and affection is hidden behind them. A soft, sad smile across his lips.

“What’s going through that beautiful mind?” He asks, his voice just above a whisper.

“I don’t know.” You tell him honestly.

He just nods, understanding how overwhelmed you must be.

“I need time, I need to think.” You say, averting your eyes from his, knowing you’ll say yes if you look into them for a moment too long.

“Take all the time you need, I’ll always be right here if you decide you’ll have me.” He says softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he gives you another proper hug.

He finally steps away from you, leaving you feeling displaced in your own room, before he turns to leave he grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly, “And Y/N, no matter what you decide, you will never lose me. I will always be right here.” With that he leaves the room, leaving you behind with a whirlwind of thoughts.

As much as every part of you wants to believe him in saying he’ll never leave you, you can’t help but wonder if it’s fully true. If you try this and all of it comes crashing down, you can’t imagine being able to be around him.

Is the possibility of loving and being loved by the most incredible human being worth the possibility of losing him entirely? 

[agendabymooner]

time to rock and roll || fa14 fic (1)

THE BREAKUP AND MAKEUP DUOLOGY — PART ONE

“when will you learn? i’m the queen and i’ll put you in your place.”

Summary: It was 2007, and Fernando Alonso had to learn the hard way that his ego and pride were getting in the way of the love that he built up with the recently-retired professional wrestler Trish Staedtlander. OR the 2007 Canadian GP left Trish no choice but to put on a brave face and show nothing but indifference. It’s safe to say that Fernando’s pride was immediately humbled by her words and impassive expressions as he begged her to come back.

Content warning: 2007 McLaren driver!Fernando, mentions the spygate scandal, exes-to-lovers trope(ish), use of explicit language, poorly Apple-translated Spanish dialogues, platonic!Lewis Hamilton x OFC, brief Jenson Button x OFC content, mentions brief alcohol consumption, jealous!Fernando, 6300+ words of nonsense.

Note: I cannot believe I have returned to my Nando fucker phase. Enjoy xx

masterlist

“¡Si así es como funciona, entonces me voy! Feliz jodido aniversario para ti.” If this is how it works, then I’m leaving! Happy fucking anniversary to you. 

“Vuelve, Trisha,” Come back, Trisha. Fernando sighed exasperatedly. 

“No, Fernando,” Beatrice Staedtlander was a force to be reckoned with. With enough time and money, she could do whatever with her life— yet she had chosen him. She expressed her feelings towards travelling with him, telling him that out of those 52 weekends of a year, she only had him for less than a half. 

He wasn’t keen on the idea of taking her to every race. The worst part about this was that he decided to turn her down at their second anniversary— three weeks or so after she initially proposed the idea of being around him more often through a call. 

Was it because of the grid girls? She asked herself. Because she was certain that she could take it. She fought against the most attractive women in the wrestling industry before, hell she was declared the poster girl for all of them. She definitely had no problem— knowing that she was the one that the Fernando Alonso would come home to. 

She tried to explain to him that she was fine with any kind of issues that may come as they travel. She could adjust for him. But that wasn’t why he kept rejecting her. 

He could have simply said that he didn't want to be angry at her if he had lost. It was much better to cool off on the flight back to Canada instead of having her witness him in the worst way possible. He could have said all of that, but all he said was that he didn’t want any distraction. 

Was that what he really thought of her? All those times she had been with him and he’d be reading something while she spoke… is she just a distraction? Seventeen weekends to compete and another twenty to prepare for the season and all she was to him was something to fill up his schedule?

She really shouldn’t have flown to England for this. She could have just left him working at the McLaren headquarters for his break until the next race.

“I’m going home,” she told him firmly, her voice shaky as she stood there. Her hand gripped the handle of her suitcase as she spewed out, “17 weekends are what I always miss, Fernando, and twenty of those you’re always working or out— so if I’m just a distraction then I’ll make sure to make the rest of your 15 weeks as peaceful as they can be. I don’t want to see you so please don’t come to my house.”

She slammed the door on him and left as soon as she hailed a cab— it took her three minutes to do all of that. Yet it took Fernando five minutes to catch up with her but she was nowhere close to him. She wasn’t in the lobby nor outside waiting for a taxi. 

She already left.

“I shouldn’t have retired early.” “You had a bad injury last year, you had to retire early.” 

“How do I unlearn Spanish?” “Don’t speak it.” 

“Seriously, I really would just like to stay at home and not be here,” Trish whined, playing with the ice on her empty glass. “I’m not fully miserable, guys. Why am I having some sort of intervention?” 

“Psh,” Amy scoffed. “I just watched you eat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s for an hour straight while you’re watching Dirty Dancing. It’s been exactly what— seven weeks since you broke up with him. You need the intervention, trust me.”

“I think it’s very brave of you to break up with him,” Jay told her with a slight shrug. Of course he would say that— they’ve dated for three months and Jay constantly flirted with her even after she began seeing Fernando. “Look, maybe if you try to attend the Grand Prix tomorrow you’ll have some sort of closure. You’ll see his face and realize that you deserve better than someone who only cares for you if it’s convenient.” 

“I’m not going to fucking go— thank you,” Trish nodded at the server who walked away after giving her the second glass of rum and coke. Sipping on it, she found herself being stared at by her best friends. “I don’t even know why I decided to go to Montreal of all places! I could have gone to Banff for a vacation instead.”

“Because there’s a part of you that wants to support him,” Amy said. “He sent those passes to you in hopes that maybe you’ll watch him race.” 

“Tried telling him that before,” Trish huffed out petulantly, “look where that got me.” 

“He probably didn’t mean it,” Jay tried to reason out, leaving the blonde to glare at him. She had heard that pathetic excuse before, and she wasn’t about to hear that when defending what she thought was the love of her life. Jay caught the look in her face and grimaced, “Okay, poor excuse, sorry— but maybe there are some things that he hadn’t said?” 

“Did he ring you or something?” Beatrice raised a brow. 

Jay shook his head slightly, “No, but you’ve seen the man. Does he look like the type to ditch you because he’s looking for something new or something?” 

“Yes,” Amy and Trish answered, both looking at the only man at the table. 

Amy looked at Trish, “But Trish, come on, how bad could it be? We only have two days to watch— the chances of seeing him may be slim. Plus, we can pull some strings from Stephanie and maybe get some extra privileges that come with the pass?” 

“I do like the sound of that,” Jay nodded. “Talk to the McMahons. Probably find a way to get out of the McLaren area?”

“Yeah, I’ll call Steph or something. If not, I'm sure Shane would be generous enough to get us some other paddock passes,” Amy stood up and reached for her phone, flipping it open to contact their former employer’s daughter. She walked away from their booth. 

Trish sighed and realized that her drink was empty.

“She’s not calling Shane right? Like my ex, son of my boss Shane just so I can see my other ex race?” Trish asked Jay with a ridiculing face, leaving the other Canadian to shrug his shoulders.

She wished she hadn’t gone to Montreal because she could feel his presence regardless of which part of the city he was in. Those weeks of being alone were hellish, if you were to ask them. 

Everyone had taken notice of the model-turned-wrestler-turned-legend when she, alongside her former coworkers, arriving at the Circuit Gilles Villeneuve. 

It was surprising, to say the least; she assumed that with what she was wearing - a low rise jeans with her custom buckled belt and some tight white tees - she wouldn’t have stuck out. She wasn’t sure if it was the buckle that caught everyone’s attention - or maybe it was the cowboy hat that she wore in the colour of McLaren. But everyone saw her and had taken photos left and right. 

Jay and Amy had also signed some things — seeing as the three of them were to become legends of WWE. They’ve gone around the grid and talked to people. Team principals were rather glad to see the three of them, telling the trio that they made a good impression as professional wrestlers during the Attitude Era. 

The three tried to cut the conversations short, not wanting to withhold the staff’s attention to their own racing teams.

Trish dreaded going to the McLaren area, not wanting to see her lover, Fernando, and feeling like she was imposing once more. Like he said, she was just a distraction… so she saw no reason why she should see his team before the qualifying. Her feet were backing off and she was ready to walk away. 

She would have gone had it been for a young Lewis Hamilton who caught a glimpse of the Canadian wrestler. He was quick to reach out to her.

“H- Miss Stratus!” He greeted her, nervousness written all over his face but he smiled nonetheless. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. My name is Lewis Hamilton.” 

Trish quickly recognized the name, “Ah yes! It is very nice to meet you, Hamilton. You’re extremely impressive you know? I’ve watched the races from the television and you’ve got a lot of potential. It’s too bad I’ve never seen you race in person ‘til now.” 

“That’s a lot of compliment coming from you,” Lewis chuckled meekly, “and you’re the one to talk. You’ve been an amazing wrestler and character during your active years. Some may think that your championships were nothing but a joke but I think they were rather fitting for your character.” 

“Yeah, well,” she shrugged, “when someone tries to bring you down, it’s just easier for you to either ignore them or eat up the attention.”

“And you chose the latter,” Lewis laughed. 

“And I chose the latter,” Trish nodded. “As much as I’d like to keep talking I think I’m gonna have to cut the conversation short. I'd hate to impose and distract you—“

“Nonsense!” Lewis insisted, “Alonso’s been looking for you since we arrived a few days ago. I think he was worried you weren’t coming this weekend—“

“What?” Trish interfered, disbelief written in her face as she tried to comprehend what was just said. 

Fernando’s looking for her and he’s scared she wouldn’t come.

Her lover had always been confident, some people thought of his personality as something more boastful and egotistical. She always loved that he could get self-assured at times, and that he would often infect her with the same energy until she was at the same level of confidence as him. 

But even his fears could get irrational. 

Sure, the breakup became the talk of the month or whatever (so far there had been ten magazines that had written about it), but not once did he allow any personal problem to get in the way of his racing. Whatever happened in the tracks, he’d make sure to address it, but he would never jeopardize his race just because he had an argument with his parents prior to the competition. 

So his fear of her not being there? Trish was sure that he wouldn’t allow that to get in the way of his world drivers’ championship. 

“Yeah, really,” Lewis nodded in confirmation. “I know he had flown out his mother from Spain too, seeing as this was your country and all. Mrs. Alonso keeps telling me that Fernando’s been keeping you from her so she just decided to come here for you.” 

Okay, maybe there was a reason why he was scared. But they’ve broken up, have they not? It’s been nearly two months, why hadn’t he told Mrs. Alonso about their breakup? Perhaps she found out already, she probably just wanted to see Trish and possibly bitch-slap the Canadian. Maybe.

“Right,” Trish nodded. “I’ll see him around eventually. Maybe you can let her know I’m here? I’ve got to get back to my friends before the qualifying.”

“No problem, Miss Stratus!” Lewis grinned.

“Beatrice,” Trish told him, “call me Beatrice or Trish. Miss Stratus makes it sound like I’m old or something.”

“Alright… Trish,” Lewis chuckled. “I’ll pass the message to her for you. Hope you find your friends before it gets even worse in the paddock.”

“Thank you so much, Lewis,” Trish smiled softly at the man. “Good luck on your qualifying. Try to aim for the pole.” 

“I’ll work hard enough!” Lewis bid his farewell to Trish before returning to the garage. Turning away, Trish kept a small smile on her face before she set off to find Amy and Jay. There was a lot for her to say about what she just found out.

“HOLY SHIT! HAMILTON’S AT POLE!” Jay screamed, his mouth gaping as he turned to look at his friends with widened eyes. The shared flabbergasted look on Amy and Trish’s faces matched with the man as they yelled excitedly, trying not to jump up and down in joy.

“He’s fucking pole tomorrow!” Trish yelled, grin widening even more as she shook Jay’s shoulders.

“…I think you should be more excited for something else, Beatrice,” Amy poked Trish on the side, making the Canadian turn around to face her best friend. Amy pointed at the screen, all of them watching as a checkered flag was displayed next to Fernando’s name and his final qualification time showing up next to the second one. “Nando’s at P2 tomorrow.” 

Trish’s smile faltered for a moment, taking in the information as her chest swelled with pride. Her mouth returned to its curled position. She turned around to celebrate Hamilton’s pole position for a literal second and her man came running to retrieve the second position. Talk about a win. 

Before they could even leave the McLaren’s hospitality they were approached by a media relations member to let them know about being interviewed. It wasn’t as if they could get out of that duty— Martin Brundle would most likely be the one to approach them if they hadn’t been notified and if there was anything Trish had learned it was that you don’t simply walk away from him. 

“Trish, this is the first time I have seen you since last year’s Canadian Grand Prix,” Martin started once he introduced the three. “With what’s happening between you and a certain McLaren driver, or what even happened, how do you feel being in the circuit?” 

“Well, I am quite excited for tomorrow. Seeing McLaren with a pole and a second position made me feel so giddy,” Trish grinned. She wasn’t lying, but she didn’t mention him nor the comment that Martin made about their famous break up.

“Rumour has it that you weren’t planning to go this year,” Martin asked her. 

Amy decided to answer for Trish, “She wasn’t supposed to. She didn’t want to, I mean. And I know that this had been her tradition since she got her what— fifth— sixth Women’s Championship title?” 

“Fifth,” Jay piped up, “if it’s 2005, yeah it’s fifth.” 

“Yeah, so this was something that she had been doing since 2005 and if there’s anything that I knew since working with her was that she doesn’t like to skip out of certain traditions. We had to drag her ass out of Toronto a few days ago because well, we didn’t want to waste the passes given to us by a generous driver,” Amy continued, smirking towards Trish’s direction. The Canadian shot her best friend a look. 

“Quite the generous driver, indeed,” Martin said, “have you three congratulated him by chance?” At least the man wasn’t singling her out now. 

“We have not,” Jay answered, “we were planning to call it an early evening after we speak to their team principal however—“

Meanwhile, next to the trio stood Lewis Hamilton, who was being interviewed as well. He spoke about landing on the pole and how confident he was tomorrow. 

Trish thought she misheard what he said as he continued, “I’ve seen Trish Stratus earlier. Trish told me today that I should get the pole position, and obviously being one of my favourite wrestlers and all— I can’t disappoint her.”

“She’s just right next to you actually,” Lewis’ interviewer pointed, making the cameraman pan his camera towards the wrestler who then turned only to see Lewis and the camera in her direction. 

“Oh Lewis!” Trish exclaimed, interrupting the conversation between Amy, Jay and Martin as she apologized meekly, “Sorry, Martin. I’ll just move aside for a moment to speak to Lewis.” 

Then she walked three steps towards the driver, “Can I give you a hug? Congratulations!” 

Lewis took that friendly offer as he grinned, finally pulling away as he said, “Thank you, thank you! We were actually just talking about you and how you told me to get the pole position.”

“And clearly Lewis fulfilled it,” Trish giggled, clapping him on the back. “It’s going to be really exciting to see you tomorrow. And I’ve heard this is your first pole?” 

“It is, it is,” Lewis nodded eagerly. 

“God, I am so happy for you, Lew!” Trish exclaimed.

“And what do you think about McLaren getting another higher position on the grid tomorrow with Fernando Alonso getting a P2?” The interviewer asked, making the wrestler pause for a moment. Her face remained impassive, not wanting to give the papers more things to write about. 

Her quick thinking, thankfully, led her to respond with, “I have always been supportive of each driver and just like the previous races, I never failed to believe that Fernando Alonso would be able to make it in the top ten. Each race that I have been to— I rarely go now— always has the same result with him being successful one way or another.” It was so nice having a media relations manager in WWE. At least she knew how to respond without losing her shit at people who kept on bringing up her ex.

“Do you think that his success in the races you make your appearance in would have to do something with you?” The woman across from the British and Canadian continued to ask, a smile on her face was rather genuine— if you would ask Trish. It was as if they were asking about a romance that had somehow brightened up the racing and wrestling community’s images. 

Everyone did tell her and Fernando that while their relationship was made public they somehow managed to show genuineness instead of the fake smiles and pretentious display of affection. 

So it never hurt for Trish to reminisce no matter what their situation was now. Trish answered the interviewer and said, “You know… that’s something that isn’t up to me. I know for a fact that Fernando was always made for this sport so me being there wouldn’t change a thing. I could be gone now and he’d still land in P2, you know?”

Amy: Gone down to the bar downstairs. Raikkonen and Button r here. R u coming? 

Beatrice: No, too tired. Enjoy though xx

Her room telephone started ringing by the time she shut her phone close, groaning as she glared at the direction of the phone. There was too much to unpack after arriving from the venue that she scolded herself for staying a little longer at the McLaren garage. 

Somehow she found a reason why Fernando refused to take her to the races. Being told that she was some distraction did hurt— but being left in the dark about what could potentially jeopardize his career was another. IFinding out about the information from Ferrari being passed to McLaren left a distasteful feeling on her mouth. She never wanted to take back her words of praise from earlier until now. 

All the more reason to avoid Fernando right? 

Right. But he was determined to make things right for them. 

When Trish answered the phone she initially thought that it was either Jay or Amy, exclaiming, “What? I texted you alr—“

“Trish, hija!” The voice on the other side of the call silenced the Canadian, feeling too stunned and unable to speak for a moment as the sweet voice continued, “¿Te parece bien que hable español?” Is it okay if I speak Spanish?

Trish swallowed the lump on her throat and stammered, “Sí, por supuesto, señora Alonso.” Yes, of course, Mrs. Alonso.

“Hace tiempo que no sé nada de ti, mi amor. ¿Cómo has estado?” I have not heard from you for a while now, my love. How have you been? God, those words were angelic. For it to come from her lover’s mother was a blessing that was hard to believe. 

Fernando’s mother had always expressed her fondness for the woman. Whenever Trish flew to Spain for holidays— all of which were spent with Fernando— his mother would always make sure that the Canadian had everything she needed. She even taught the younger woman a lot about Spanish culture. Needless to say, Mrs. Alonso enjoyed Trish’s company and vice versa. 

“Ah, ha sido duro, pero estoy trabajando duro para pasar el día.” It’s been rough but I’m working hard to push through the day. Trish felt herself smiling before it fell off and asked, “If you do not mind me asking… How did you find my hotel room number?” 

“Espero que no te importe, pero Nando ha sido muy reservado sobre ti últimamente. No me gusta ser entrometido, pero si significa para mí hablar contigo, entonces encontraré algo de sus cosas que me lleve a ti.” I hope you don’t mind, but Nando has been very secretive about you lately. I don’t like being nosy but if it means for me to speak to you then I’ll find something from his things that’ll get me to you. 

Trish nearly laughed at this. Mrs. Alonso, whenever the couple were miles apart, would take it upon herself to talk in the background and join in at the conversation held between Fernando and Trish. She was rather dedicated to keeping her relationship alive with Trish and the younger woman appreciated that. 

“¿Te parece bien si cenamos esta noche? Solo tú y yo, Fernando no estará allí.” Is it okay if we have dinner tonight? It’s just me and you— Fernando will not be there. Mrs. Alonso’s voice sounded more like a plea than it was a suggestion. “Tell me everything that happened.” 

And who was Trish to say no? After all, she was the Alonso that Trish liked the most— not that she would ever tell Fernando that. There’s got to be at least something to lie to him about. Especially when he’d done it multiple times. 

Their dinner wasn’t tense at all. It was as if they’d forgotten about Fernando for a moment as they chatted away, exchanging their thoughts on the current events and laughing about whatever.

Beatrice wasn’t too keen on telling Mrs. Alonso about the silliest things, but the older woman was a woman of detail. She needed to know how their relationship came to an end so easily. And instead of fighting back on it, Beatrice’s shoulders dropped as she started to tell Mrs. Alonso about what had happened weeks ago. 

“We’ve been together for years,” Beatrice said, dropping her hands to avoid playing with her food. She offered a rueful smile to the older woman. “Me hizo sentir como si fuera una carga.” He made me feel like a burden. 

Mrs. Alonso sighed quietly, unable to speak on behalf of her son. Fernando should be the one who would own up to his bullshit, and the pride that he carried within him hindered almost every good thing ahead of him. One of them being Trish. Mrs. Alonso figured that her son bringing his girlfriend along on a trip to Spain for holidays was a sign of love he could offer. 

But hearing about how he exploded and called her an inconvenience? Fernando couldn’t be more wrong and stupid. Even Mrs. Alonso called him that. 

He wouldn’t take Beatrice back home in Spain if she was just another woman to string along. He wouldn’t have lasted for two years in their relationship if he thought that Beatrice wasn’t the woman he wanted to marry. He hadn’t sat her down for three hours while drinking a bottle of wine, teaching her how to speak in Spanish at an intermediate level, just to toss her aside once he got her body trembling. 

A non-committal person would do things like that. But Fernando was in love with Beatrice. He’d see the grid girls wink and even put their hands on him, but not once did he ever try to get a taste of infidelity. He wasn’t like that. 

It baffled Mrs. Alonso to no end, but at least she expressed her empathy for the younger woman while telling Trish that she’d have a word with her son. 

Fernando was an idiot, and Mrs. Alonso was going to remind him how idiotic he could get. 

It wasn’t Fernando’s weekend this weekend, but it was Lewis Hamilton’s. 

And Trish couldn’t be happier for the young British driver. She spoke to him before his race about keeping his pole position all throughout the race. Then she told him that he’s becoming her favourite driver in the grid (which was true). Lewis Hamilton merely grinned and told her that, “I’ll make you even prouder then, hm?” 

And proud, she was. The moment he got an opportunity to be away from the media people, Trish didn’t take her time to drag Amy and Jay to find the man of the night. The Canadian merely rattled off at how exciting the race was for them as they were rooting for Hamilton. Lewis exchanged words and said something like, “I was nervous! I honestly thought I was going to fuck up at some point but no. I didn’t want you to see me race for the first time and watch me be shit at it.” 

Their conversation was cut short when he was pulled away by his press officer. Lewis had to beg his press officer to pause for a moment before giving the three a heads up about a party to celebrate his win. Trish hadn’t even realized what she agreed on, waving him off and nodding as if to tell him that he needed to go. He took this as a yes to the invitation. So when she received a text from him (when he took her number) about the details of the party, she only turned to her friends and said, “I hope you’ve got some nice clothes.”

Being invited to a party wasn’t on their agenda. She thought of staying for two or more days in Montreal to visit the basilica and cathedral church— and maybe she’d check out a farmers market and see if they’ve got a stall of local distilleries. So to be a guest of this race weekend’s winner? She was more popular than some of them yet she was worried about how atrocious she looked. 

She really lucked out when she managed to pull a going out top from her suitcase. A halter neck handkerchief top was what her eyes had settled on. Blue sequins were shining as she continued to hold it under her room’s light. She didn’t waste any time and prepared to go out tonight with her friends— and her new one, Lewis. 

As soon as she arrived with the two, her eyes scanned the place. The dance floor wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t crowded either. She saw Lewis by the dance floor and had chatted with him for a moment before she waved at him, telling him to enjoy his night. She immediately went straight to the bar and ordered a martini. 

Her eyes couldn’t help but wander, watching as bodies sucked in the air of freedom and happiness on the dance floor. She could see nothing but enjoyment, one that she craved the most after all those weeks of crying over some man. 

Her gaze shifted to a rather expensive space inside the club. She could see a VIP booth full of familiar faces— those that she saw while she walked around the paddock. If everyone were here, as Lewis had told her, then that meant…

“My, my,” she turned away from the VIP table back to the direction of the entrance, finding herself face to face with Jenson Button. He leaned against the bar counter and offered her a smirk. “Aren’t you a beautiful sight to see.” 

Thanking the bartender, she sipped on her martini with a scoff and asked, “Did that ever work on the girls you wanted to bed?” 

He chuckled heartily, shaking his head as he sipped on his drink — rum and coke. “No,” he teased, “it didn’t work on you, clearly.” 

Her face flushed before she turned away for a moment, hearing him laugh at the embarrassment that she felt. 

Regaining her composure, Beatrice looked back at Jenson. 

She knew that he was joking, but she had heard a lot about the grid singles; they were all trying to gain her attention when she attended the Grand Prix two years ago. Even now, there were still some drivers that were attracted to her. Jenson Button had an underlying problem and it was that his joke was half serious. 

She cleared her throat and pointed at the glass in his hand, “Fifth drink?” 

Jenson shook his head, “First.” 

“I don’t blame you,” raising her martini, she responded with a nod before tipping the drink over her open mouth. The burning sensation down her throat left her hissing quietly, making her companion chuckle in amusement. “It’s nice to know you get off at the sight of a woman in pain.”

His chuckle turned into a snicker as his shoulders shook. He then continued to joke along with her, “Not your thing? We can always compromise.” 

She bursted out of laughter, the burning feeling long gone as she exchanged words with him at the bar. 

What she hadn’t seen, though, was a quiet Fernando. He was sat at the end of the booth, the dimly lit area hiding the deadly stare that he held while Beatrice and Jenson laughed at whatever the fuck they were talking about. 

And as if God was laughing at him, the speakers were playing a remix of Beyoncé’s Irreplaceable. The song mocked Fernando’s vulnerable state.

“I can have another you in a minute, matter of fact he’ll be here in a minute.” 

He didn’t know how long he kept his gaze on the same place, or how many drinks Trish had while he zoned out. He shook himself out of his thoughts when Nico Rosberg called him, asking if he’d heard what the German just said. He only nodded but somehow he ended up being roped into a short conversation. He lost sight of her.

“Baby I don’t give a damn, I know your man’s nowhere in sight.”

Kimi Raikkonen, who had downed four shots of tequila throughout the night, decided that it was the right time to speak. He wolf-whistled as he peered over Fernando’s shoulders, his eyes squinting as he watched the dance floor. “Look at that. Jenson lied about being shit at dancing.” 

“And your eyes don’t tell a lie.” 

Fernando’s head snapped at the direction where Kimi pointed and his eyes narrowed at the sight. It wasn’t a pleasant sight for him. 

Because she was his woman. Not anyone else’s. Not Jenson’s. 

But with their dire situation, Fernando couldn’t call her his woman. She was single. So he painfully watched Beatrice’s face inching towards Jenson’s. 

The BAR-Honda driver’s hands were touching her hips as if he was holding a steering wheel. She smiled at him as if she liked it; Fernando knew she loved how his bigger hands gently rested on her waist whenever he’d sneak up behind her as she made their cups of coffee. Trish didn’t like how Jenson held her. Fernando just knew. 

“I know you wanna come with me tonight.”

Right. That was it. 

Fernando cleared his throat and stood, wordlessly walking away from the booth as he marched his way towards the two. His hand dragged her away from the British man, his face seething while Trish protested. She could’ve just pulled away because of how little force he had on his hold. 

Instead she just followed along as they ended up in a quieter area of the club. A rarity for such a loud venue.

“I can’t believe you,” Beatrice, rather than causing a drama, merely whispered the first four words that she offered him since she walked out with a “happy fucking anniversary.” 

“Trisha—“ he tried to reason out, but he was quietened by her glare. 

“Everything’s falling apart,” she told him calmly, “everything’s falling apart but you refuse to take accountability for being a part of it.”

He remembered the controversy surrounding McLaren and Ferrari. And how he was somewhat a part of it. 

Earlier today, he hadn’t even offered Lewis a congratulations on his first win. He bitterly walked off, frustrated at Lewis’ win and his P9 result. P-fucking-9. He’s been a two time world champion. Now he landed in P9? He was upset. It was even worse when he saw some televised interviews of Lewis and Trish being a little bit friendly as she showered the younger driver with support. Fernando was her favourite driver. Now it’s Lewis. 

Then he remembered how he got into a huge argument with her, practically lying about being a distraction to him just to save face. He hated how his pride got in the way of the things he needed, blaming others seemed to be a better option than accepting defeat. 

Beatrice continued on, “I gave you two years. I gave you half a year, Fernando. Why haven’t you backed out at the beginning if you thought of me that way?”

“I,” he paused to regain his composure, making sure that he was sober enough to speak. “I didn’t mean that.” 

“You were quite passionate when you were screaming abuse at me,” Beatrice muttered sarcastically. 

“I don’t, I really don’t— you have to believe me, mi corazon,” as of this point, he no longer had the prideful attitude. He didn’t care if he didn’t. He wasn’t about to lose her for good. “Everything’s falling apart and I wasn’t sure how to get myself out of it.”

“I could’ve done something,” Trish told him, “I could’ve been there to comfort you, to provide input— and I know jackshit about whatever’s happening. You didn’t tell me anything. How am I supposed to believe you after all of that?

“I can’t be the only one responsible here,” she continued with the pain that felt permanent. “You— ugh.” 

She angrily wiped her tears away, a slight smudge of her mascara showing her exasperation as she asked, “These papers— those people… when they ask you about me— did you ever try giving them an answer?” 

“Did you even tell them how much I fucking meant to you? Or did you just let it all show in front of the cameras because I’m not worth a word to anyone? Did you even bother to look and wonder how the fuck I was doing? After all of that fiasco last year— you weren’t even there!” 

“And that was my mistake, Trisha!” He yelled in the same tone as her. Were they ever glad that nobody could hear them with all of the bass boosting inside the club.

Her lips trembled, unable to contain her sadness. She wasn’t even upset at the way he yelled. She was just sad it turned out like this. 

He sighed, slumping down against the wall as he leaned his head back for a moment. He couldn’t talk to her if he couldn’t contain his frustration. But then again, if he continued to focus more on himself and keeping his composure— she’d walk away again because of the lack of words he had given her. 

His hand reached on her wrist, squeezing it once, “Just stay. Don’t leave, mi corazon.” 

“I’m not leaving,” she spoke quietly, slightly tugging her wrist away from his hold. Did he really think she’d leave? She only left months ago because she knew damn well that he’d much rather be alone… and that he didn’t want her there. “Only did that to make things easier for the two of us. I want to talk- and so do you, so I’m not wasting my time on leaving.”

Fernando Alonso never felt the need to explain himself any further to anyone, he could admit. He didn’t give that much shit what anyone would think, thanks to his ego. But he had never felt the need to explain himself this desperately before. He knew too well that the moment he watches Beatrice Staedtlander slip away from him would be the moment when everything ends for him. 

“Ojalá pudiera volver atrás en el tiempo para poder contarte todo. Sé que he herido a mucha gente debido a mis acciones y he hecho tanto por ti, ojalá no dejara que mi orgullo sacara lo mejor de mí. Mamá tiene razón. Soy estúpido porque te he deje ir tan fácilmente en lugar de tratar de mejorar las cosas,” I wish I can turn back the time so I can tell you everything. I know I’ve wounded a lot of people because of my doings and I’ve done so much to you, I wish I didn’t let my pride get the best of me. Mom is right. I am stupid because I’ve let you go so easily instead of trying to make things better.

His mind was set on panic mode and clearly the rambling of Spanish words showed it. His eyes, ones that were often playful or stoic, softened as he kneeled in front of her, clasping both of her hands as he said, “Please. Let me back in your heart, Trisha. Let me learn.” 

And she couldn’t even fathom the thought of refusing him. Because those two years of relationship didn’t build up to nothing. She hadn’t learned intermediate Spanish in his childhood home for nothing. She hadn’t stayed up late to receive his call for nothing. She wouldn’t have done anything as remotely outrageous as putting his driver number in her tiny bikini for a magazine cover if it hadn’t been for the love and dedication she had for him. 

“You’ve always been in my heart, Nando,” she murmured, peering down at him as she held his face against her smaller hands. Pressing down a kiss on his lips, she then said, “But god if you fucked this up, then maybe we really aren’t meant for each other.”

Fernando stood from where he kneeled, his lips capturing hers in a heated yet gentle kiss as his hand sat on her hip. He couldn’t even seem to answer, but it wasn’t as if he'd ever refuse her. She was someone he’d never turn down; not when he knew that she was it for him.

But this wasn’t the first time they’ve broken up. And this definitely won’t be the last time Fernando Alonso would find himself making the biggest mistake of his life. Thank god, Beatrice Staedtlander was there to remind him that his pride would only hinder his chances of making things right. 

[alwaysonf1]

wtf just happened?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning: Mild "slander" of French speakers. Language. (Mild)

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: N/A

“Iman.”

Nothing.

“Iman.”

More silence.

“Iman Marie!”

Ignoring the shouting was her plan, but that was when it was from just outside her room. That last one was right in her ear, making her jump and then without looking, she uses the pillow next to her to hit Logan in the head.

The man truly took annoying little brother to heart. And just like any sister she wanted to kill him. Not kill him dead, but just enough so he would leave her alone. Even in the midst of her angst she didn’t want the idiot dead, she would sadly miss him very much. 

“Ow!” he says.

“You should have left me alone,” she mumbles into her other pillow.

“No, we have plans. And you moping around like a dork isn’t going to change that. I don’t even know why since you wanted this.”

Iman pushes herself up a little and turns her head at a speed that should hurt her neck. Her eyes narrow on her friend who looks annoyed and amused as he rubs his face. Her accuracy clearly worked in her favor. However, she can’t find it in herself to be happy about that.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” she whines.

“Because you’re being dramatic.” Logan rolls his eyes as he says it and moves out of range for her to throw anything at him.

Not that she plans to throw anything else at him. Iman can’t find the energy to attack him for what he said. Partly because she knows it’s true, even if she does glare at him for it. 

There are few times in life she’s felt more like a big baby than now. She’s capable of handling her emotions. Lewis always made it clear that she was allowed and should always accept how she’s feeling because those feelings aren’t wrong, but that she has to temper her reactions. To be fair most of that had to do with her wanting to fight a racist or anyone who had some reach of a comment to say about him, but it wasn’t the only place he ever applied that kind of thing. He always said he knows the influence he’d have on her life and he wanted to ensure that she didn’t have to learn some of the hard parts like he did. Which she appreciated.

But goodness it didn’t help at the moment.

Charles Leclerc kissed her a little less than twenty-four hours ago. Something she’d hope would happen sooner rather than later. Something she was going to try to make happen herself because she was tired of playing whatever game it was that meant she withheld her feelings for the man. And because everyone who knew her was annoying and pestering her.

Now she’s finally experienced it, and her reaction was to play it cool in his face and then put her phone on Do Not Disturb so he couldn’t reach her to talk about it. Something she knows has happened because he’s reached out to Lewis, Logan, Alex and Lily to make sure she’s okay.

More than anything she wishes the urge to vomit stemmed from thinking that Charles wants to tell her that he regrets the kiss. That it meant nothing and that he wants to continue being friends. Or not friends at all. But she doesn’t have that voice in her head. Instead, the one she’s dealing with focuses on what comes next. There are obvious answers, but something about it is stressing her out.

Something she’s wanted for a while now lacks the joy it deserves and it’s driving her up a wall. 

She’s acting like Charles. She’s not an overthinker and yet that fucking Monégasque has her in shambles. How dare a French speaking man do this to her at all.

A pillow slams into her face and her head whips back and then forward at a speed that could probably induce whiplash. Logan is sitting on her bed with a pillow in his hands. It’s angled back like he plans to do it again, but then he sets it down.

“What the fuck, Logan?” she shouts.

“Mate, you were zoning out.”

“So, you hit me with a pillow?”

“You hit me first!”

Her hand twitches and moves toward another pillow and he reassumes the position prepared to attack her too.

“I didn’t believe you.”

“I told you.”

The voices draw her attention from her stare down with Logan to her doorway. In it stands Lewis and Sebastian. Iman is familiar with the man and feels comfortable around him, but his presence confuses her so much that the urge to throttle Logan leaves her.

“Hi Seb,” both her and Logan say.

“Hello. Did we walk into a war?” he asks.

“No.”

Lewis rolls his eyes. “Then what did we walk into?”

“Her being stupid.”

Both pillows fly without a word and it’s a flurry of them hitting each other and failing to dodge. It only lasts for what’s probably seconds and both of them have made it off the bed and onto the floor with 

“Okay, separate kids.”

Like creepy twins they go from glaring at each other to Lewis and again he rolls his eyes at them. Iman and Logan put the man through a lot, so he’s used to their brand of nonsense.

Sebastian is barely concealing a laugh as he watches all this and Iman fights not to turn her irritation on him. She’d laugh too if she was watching this mess.

Lewis claps his hands and like well trained dogs they release their pillows and sit on her bed. She’s still glaring at her brother, but she’s toned it down.

“You stop hitting her with pillows. You know how she gets.” He points to Logan.

“She started it. I was just defen…” A single look from Lewis shuts him up and Logan huffs, but nods.

“And you.” As he says it all three sets of eyes are intently on me. “Pull it together, yeah. The first few hours were fine, but this is a bit much. I won’t tell you how to feel, but you’re happy about it, he’s happy about it. Stop being a dunce and do something about it. Man is blowing up my phone.”

“Mine too,” Seb chimes in.

“You texted him first,” Lewis says.

A grin that Iman considers evil, because it’s only ever present when he’s up to no good, spreads across Sebastian's face. The man likes to be in the know and he’s fond of his former teammate, so his self-insertion isn’t surprising in the least. 

However, as quickly as that look of mischief comes, it goes. Sebastian is still smiling, but there’s a seriousness to his demeanor that makes Iman a little uneasy.

“Don’t hurt his feelings or yours.”

Then they’re both gone.

Iman is unsure of what to do or say, so she just sits there. A million thoughts bubble inside of her head, but she blocks them all out. Lingering on even one of them could lead her back to where she was minutes ago, and Lewis is right. He’s often right.

Logan exhales. “You know I just want you happy, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So be happy. You’ve been pining after the guy for a while now. He’s finally made it clear he’s ready and available. That he feels something for you, even if you don’t fully know what that is yet. Don’t play around and overthink it. You’ll kick yourself for it later. Hell, I know you’re doing it now.”

She nods but says nothing. Still doesn’t know what to say, but she does lean her head down on Logan’s shoulder. The gesture is one of the usual casual affection, but also a silent thank you. He knew what to say and she knew that before he’d even shown up at her place, thus her ignoring his pestering to begin with. Being stubborn is on brand for her. 

He pats her head and then abruptly he stands up, leaving her barely any time to adjust herself so she doesn’t fall over. The glare is back on her face, but Logan just smiles as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. 

“Now get up and get ready. We’re already running late and you’re the one who begged me to come try that new place with you.” 

She rolls her eyes, but nods.

Logan heads toward the door, but then turns around. He tosses something at her, and she flinches a little, but is calmed by her phone landing on her legs. 

“Oh, and text him back.”

Then he too is gone. Probably to raid the fridge.

Iman’s gaze doesn’t leave the phone in her lap even as a retort is on the tip of her tongue. She doesn’t hate when Logan’s right, however when she’s in a mood it can be annoying. And the addition of him, Lewis, and Sebastian Vettel, all calling her out takes it to another level.

They’re right and she wants to stop feeling like such a mess over it. All these emotions are overwhelming, and the real problem is she can’t isolate any of them so they can be tackled one by one. Hell, she can’t even get them down to pairs.

What is obvious to her is that she’s happy and hopes that a step has been taken in the right direction. That this will hopefully lead to her no longer having to deal with getting her hopes up just for another girl to show up on his arm. That phrasing makes it seem like it’s constant and he’s never been single for a second between girlfriends, but even when there are months between them it always feels like it was nothing more than a day for her.

A soft scream escapes her lips, and she falls back onto the bed. She’s overthinking again and it’s close to sending her into a spiral. The last thing she needs is that, especially when he’s part of the summer vacation group. This putting a damper on things is out of the question and she refuses to be awkward like some little kid dealing with their crush.

With a sigh she sits up, tosses the phone on the bed, and gets up. Without a second glance she walks into her bathroom and closes the door.

####

Charles stares at his phone like he’s done for the past few hours. He tried to tell himself that Iman drank quite a bit the night before so she might still be recovering. Or that she wants a chill day and is away from her phone, something he’s witnessed first-hand. Hell, he’s even thrown in that maybe she’s just busy despite knowing that Williams refuses to call in their people on their days off without an emergency and both drivers have told him there hasn’t been one and that she’s fine.

Which means she’s intentionally not responding to him. And he is trying so hard not to seem desperate that the possibility of her regretting kissing him is all he can think about. Something he’s reassured himself that isn’t true. Something his brothers and friends have told him is a dumb idea to even entertain. But he can’t help but wonder if he fucked up when she won’t respond to him.

As he sits there, he tries to tell himself he needs to get ready for the early dinner he promised a group of his friends that he’d attend. But he can’t break his eyes away. Which he thinks is fucking ridiculous. That he is yet again being ridiculous.

So, he closes his eyes and takes a breath. Then without opening them he gets up from the couch and turns away from it and his phone. His eyes open and he takes a step. His phone makes a high-pitched sound and vibrates like crazy.

Like a man possessed he turns around and snatches it up. It’s unlocked before he can truly think to do it and then his eyes are glued to the message, his body sitting without him telling it to.

Air leaves his lungs and Charles melts into his couch. His entire body relaxes, and he feels the corners of his lips inch upward, something they hadn’t done since he realized Iman was ignoring his attempts to reach out.

His friends would never let him hear the end of it if he ever admitted how much that simple greeting did for him.

[bellewintersroe]

Sebastian Vettel x RBDesignEngingeer! Reader.

Set in 2013 during the GP, Jennifer is fresh out of uni and has made a name for herself within the F1 world. She joins Redbull-Renault as one of their engineer designers and easily fits into the team, forming friendships easily. Most of all, she captures the attention of three time world champion, Sebastian Vettel.

Part 7 omg time for some angst, let’s just say Sebastian doesn’t know how to handle his jealousy so well and it’s obvious when Jen has a conversation with his rival Lewis Hamilton… here’s the LINK to part 6.

Hungary, July 2013.

“Look at you!” Sebastian face lit up as I laughed out loud, amused at the fact I was in his oversized Red Bull uniform. “You’re like a pint sized driver! I love it!” His eyes scanned me up as down as I couldn’t help but snicker. “Let me take a picture!” Sebastian pulled out his I phone, clicking several pictures of me. Others crowded around, amused at my outfit change. We were just having a bit of fun, even Christian and the bigger managers were finding it funny that I was practically drowned out in his jumpsuit. “She looks better than I do.” Seb then commented, standing up off the edge he was perched upon. “And I’m gonna steal her for myself.” He teased, wrapping both arms around my waist and lifting me off the floor. He practically took off as I held onto his shoulders, bouncing around.

Sebastian was giggling to himself, smiling and grinning wildly like a child who’d just stolen a handful of sweets from the shop. “Where are you taking me?” I asked I amusement, feeling him momentarily put me down and pick me up in a more bridal style manner the moment we got through the garage doors. “It’s a surprise.”

“Wow, so romantic.” I giggled as he smiled back to me, carrying me towards his car. “How do you get in?” “I’ll put you in.” He gently spoke, slipping my legs into the Red Bull as I felt a momentary feeling of horror that I was sat in something that costs millions. “I love it!” Sebastian clapped as I froze, holding my hands out. Gaining a burst of excitement, I started pretending to turn the wheel making car noises. Sebastian snapped more pictures of me as I giggled excitedly. I’d worked around these cars for years, never once had I actually been in one. “I think I could drive one of these.” I confidently nodded, Seb leaning against the car with a smirk. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” “You need a helmet first.” Sebastian pointed out as I pretended to press on all the buttons. “Fuck the helmet. I won’t be crashing.”

“Of course…” He played along as I looked up to him with a smirk, playfully rolling my eyes. “I can’t even drive in the first place.” “You can’t?!” He exclaimed. “No, I failed my test twice then gave up when I went to uni.” I glanced around the car, slowly pushing myself out. “It’s a bit dangerous with nothing in front of you, no?” I pointed back to the front bit. “Maybe… that’s why we have our helmets.” He knocked on my head playfully. I sat back down, analysing the car. “What do you think we need?” He asked, resting his his chin on his palm, on the side of the car. “Something for protection, that won’t obstruct the view. I dunno, I don’t know how many people would like something there.” I looked back, watching him attempt to see the same thing I was. “Would it be safer?”

“Yes.” “Then I agree with you.” I stood up once again, allowing him to help me out as I thanked him softly. “Do you want to come out for a few drinks tonight?” “Yeah, sure, who’s going?” I began unzipping the suit seeing as I was growing a little warm in Sebastian’s jumpsuit. “Uh- I can ask around…” he slowly spoke, giving me a funny look. “Okay!” It wasn’t until after that conversation did I realise what he was asking me. Did he mean drinks just him and me? Did I ruin that? On my way out I was deep in thought, not looking where I was going when I thumped into somebody’s shoulder, my phone going flying across the floor. “Oh! I’m so sorry!” The stranger spoke, running over to pick up my phone. Except, it was no stranger, it was Lewis fucking Hamilton. My breath hitched, “no, no, I’m sorry, I should’ve been looking where I was going!” I exclaimed.

“That makes two of us then.” He handed my phone back over. “Thank you.” I awkwardly laughed. “You’re Jennifer, right? You work at-“ he pointed towards the Red Bull garages. “Red Bull, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I do. It’s Lewis isn’t it?” I laughed, glancing back to see Sebastian looking over slightly. I offered him a quick smile before turning back to poor Lewis who I’d just barged into. “Yeah.” He laughed gently, showing me a row of his really white teeth. He definitely was a pretty boy.

“I was always a Mercedes fan growing fan growing up, don’t tell anybody.” I admitted. “Oh really?” Amusement lit up on his face. “Maybe you’ll have to come find a job in our garages.” He nodded back to the other one as I choked out a small laugh, surprised.

“Noo, I couldn’t do that.” He was smiling at me, in a way that seemed almost flirtatious, I couldn’t tell. “I’m just messing with you, it’s nice to meet you anyway, I’ll see you around.” He patted my arm. “You too.” I politely spoke before we moved back into our own directions. When I turned back up to the Red Bull garage, Sebastian had a frown on his face, as soon as he saw me look back he disappeared. Something about it didn’t sit right with me, but I continued making my way back to the hotel. I wasn’t sure why he looked so pissed off, or why exactly he was watching, I know Lewis was one of his biggest competitions, but we were just having a conversation? That evening I took all night to get ready, texting Loretta who had decided to come out for a couple drinks as well. I was walking around in my towel, taking breaks in between each makeup step. That’s when I noticed a door in between my hotel room and somebody else’s. Maybe nobody was in there? I curiously spun the lock, causing it to fling open. I gasped in a panic and it revealed no other than Sebastian laid on his bed watching TV. He had an immediate look of surprise on his face, not even moving as his eyes widened, taking in my towel cladded state. “Oh, hello.” He began laughing as nervous laughter racked through me. I love how he didn’t even question the fact I’d opened the door between our bedrooms.

“Hi- I got curious and started twisting it, I didn’t even realise it would open!” I quickly spoke as Sebastian shrugged. “I knew it was you, could hear you singing in the shower.” Great. “Oh- I’ll go now anyway, sorry.” “No, no it’s fine. Leave it open, I could do with the company.” “Company listening to me get ready for the next hour.” I teased as he smirked towards me. God, the way he was looking at me like he wanted to devour me. He nodded gently as I offered him another smile. “Okay. Fun.”

When I was ready he was wandering around my room, smelling my perfumes, watching the TV. “I saw you talking to Lewis earlier…” he pondered whilst looking through the several perfume bottles I had. Part of me thought he wasn’t actually interested in them, he just wanted to look occupied whilst bringing Lewis up. “Oh yeah?” I glanced back to him in the mirror whilst I topped up my lipgloss. “Mmmmh.” He hummed, smiling to himself. “I almost took him out, didn’t see him.” I giggled.

“He is quite… small I suppose.” I spluttered out a laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I spun around, leaning against the dressing table with an amused smile.

“Nothing- you look beautiful.” He was quick to shake it off, the comment going straight to my cheeks that blushed a vibrant colour. “Thank you.” I giggled turning down to the floor. “Still, why is Lewis small?” I probed sensing he was feeling a little jealousy. “No reason.” Seb snickered, fixing his hair slightly in the mirror besides me. I made eye contact, smirking and glancing him up and down before spraying myself with 4 different perfumes. Excessive, but I couldn’t decide which one I preferred. Hannah and James knocked on my door, joining us as both Seb and I spilled out the room earning some weird looks. Nobody said anything but I knew exactly what they were thinking. The club was booming, the music was loud and the drinks were flowing too easily. I’d been drinking a lethal cocktail of alcohol, buzzing to be in the party atmosphere with all my friends.

“Was he flirting with you?” A voice questioned, I turned around to see Sebastian, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Who?” I spoke into his ear. “Lewis.” I playfully rolled my eyes, shaking my head.

“No, I don’t think so, why?!” “No reason.” He smirked. “You’re jealous.” With a bit of Dutch courage I poked his chest, “never.” Sebastian’s hand was grazing over my hip as I spoke to him, rubbing his shoulder. His head tilted to the side, smiling down to me with a knowing expression. “You are.” I firmed as it was his turn to roll his eyes. “No need to be jealous.” I shrugged, hand sliding off him. “No?” He asked. “No.” I firmed smiling back up to him. There was a singular second before I felt a hand on the back of my head, pushing both mine and Sebastian’s faces together. James. Way to ruin it! I sighed, taking myself back to the bar to retrieve another drink, stealing one more glimpse to Sebastian who was chatting a way to a bunch of mechanics. Maybe a little more alcohol would help me make a bolder move…

[bullet-prooflove]

Halloween Bingo Card: Cursed - Douglas Hamilton x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @cosmic-psychickitty @lucymalfoy18 @ashrionest @mimi-8793

Companion piece to:

Mississippi Meanders - Douglas doesn't expect to meet the love of his life.

Pedestal - Douglas puts you on a pedestal, much to his detriment.

The Prettiest Damn Thing - Douglas regrets having to leave the morning after.

Something Special - You decide to give Douglas something special after you notice how stressed he is.

Photo Finish - You confront Douglas when some personal pictures are used by the press.

Services Rendered - Douglas decides there's going to be a reckoning.

Douglas is cursed.

He knows that because one of his constituents literally assaulted him, clutching onto the lapels of his suit as she stared into his face with vacant eyes and told him he’s going to die alone, bleeding to death in the dark.  He’d laughed it off at the time. She wasn’t the first crazy to accost him and she certainly wouldn’t be the last.  

Her words come back to haunt him now as he lays on the floor of his office, choking on his own blood. There’s a letter opener sticking out from between his ribs and his white shirt is soaked in blood. He’s trying to frame his hands around the wound to stifle the bleeding, but it’s flowing too quickly around his fingers.

The darkness starts to cave in on him, his breathing becoming more laboured, he’s not sure if that’s because he’s panicking or dying. He knows help isn’t coming. Martha’s the one that controls his schedule and the last thing she had done after stabbing him was turn out the lights so no one would be drawn towards his office.

“You don’t understand.” She had said when he confronted her about cheque. “She didn’t love you.”

“But I love her.” He had countered as she toyed with something on his desk. “Fuck Martha, do you understand the damage you’ve done…”

And that’s when he feels it, that searing pain in his side. The world tilts, spinning and suddenly he’s on his knees because the earth seems to move from underneath him.

“You are so fucking ungrateful Douglas.” Martha tells him, gripping his chin and forcing his gaze up to meet her eyes. “I have done everything for you and you still couldn’t see what was right in front of you the whole time.”

She’d kissed him then, her hand sliding down to his throat, squeezing. The oxygen had shut off in his brain and it had been like he was suddenly in freefall. He remembers hitting the carpet hard, seeing her standing there, her fingertip running across the blood that’s smeared on her lips from where he coughed it into her face. He watches as she takes a tissue from her purse, wiping it across her mouth before she steps over him, turns out the light and closes the door quietly behind her.

And now here he lies, Douglas Hamilton.

The first Mayor of New Orleans to be stabbed to death in his office.

He’d be laughing if it wasn’t just so fucking sad.

Love Douglas? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[bcolfanfic]

young vets au brain dump - croz being complicated version

(disclaimer: i love croz. me making him a complicated little shit in this au should not be interpreted as character bashing. i find his journey over the course of mota fascinating and figuring out how to translate that to a different setting/different war has been a fun thought experiment for me. pls don’t jump me. messy characters make the world go round!)

him and jean met in high school. sweet babies.

then they *had* a baby a lot sooner than they were really expecting. both of em out of high school, but barley.

they love each other and do everything right but shit is hard and the military preys on people trying to make ends meet

so, well- 1+1=s 2 off to basic he goes.

ends up in afghanistan around the same time bucky and gale and all the other guys start rolling in there.

also ends up there with his bff from basic training, tech school and everything else. bubbles <3

the two of them end up bunking with demarco and douglas which is quite the right brain/left brain dynamic lol.

croz and bubbles' side of the room is snowglobes and kid pictures and demarco and douglas' side is women from magazines taped on the wall god love em.

gets along decently well with everyone but.

then bubbles dies and that's when everything really starts to go to shit.

i wrote a little about his initial fight with bucky about the IED that killed bubbles here.

they don't really make up from that.

for a long while.

croz is in a spiral about losing his best friend, bucky is starting to not do so well with the preindictment they're all in himself and they just. really set each other off.

kinda freaks everyone out bc they remember sweet baby face croz who puked a lot but now he's just different. damn war.

it gets to a point where him and bucky can't be in the same room without popping off at each other. and everyone else is having to micromanage them on top of having to do their actual jobs in war zone. (70% of the time its brady having to keep bucky away if not gale. croz's "insurance" buddies are rosie and douglas)

does end up getting involved with a girl in another unit

douglas and demarco clock it before anyone else bc he starts coming to bed at weird hours and they see him around this girl and just knowww.

pisses demarco off esp bc he had a whole Thing with finding out his girl back home cheated on him.

one night demarco decides to wait up for him to get back from wherever the fuck it is he goes with her at night and just about fucking jumps him and douglas has to pull him off (after he gets a good whack in)

it was a *loud* commotion of a fight lmfao bucky could hear it from their room and wanted to go see what was going on but gale was like noooppeee. no y' don't.

croz ends up telling jean everything. she forgives him. ("women! eliza could leave alex now for cheating on her. or not. as she wished." - vanessa nadal on eliza hamilton)

him and bucky make up during the pull out from afghanistan bc bucky just about saves his life in the chaos.

poor croz just breaks down crying/panicking about how he wants to go home. and bucky doesn't see that little shit that he's grown resentful towards, he sees that nervous pukey kid from when they first met

buttt...post war things get a little dicey again.

bc he stays in.

bagram sucked the war sucked but. he still has a family to provide for, he's not totally on the outs with the forces so he ultimately decides leaving would be more work than it's worth.

gets deployed to raf mildenhall base in england and gets to move with his wife and kiddos to england so. not a bad deal.

but there are. feelings. amongst the others about him staying in.

especially curt- who is the most "fuck all of that and the government too". getting his leg blown off fucked him up 7 ways to sunday and just completely shaped his view on it all.

the two of them get reallllly into it once when all the guys are together and it gets. ugly.

curt says a whole lot of shit about how he doesn't know how he can look at his kids knowing what they saw happen to kids overseas, what /they/ endorsed by being there. croz says its none of his business- he had his reasons for staying in, curt says name one that isn't selfish and it just. escalates. till they're both yelling and mean. croz eventually says something dumb on impulse about how he won't apologize for not letting the war radicalize him against his country and curt has to be yanked back from decking him lmfao. just another night!

if the others weren't all friends with both of em him and curt would not fuck with each other at allllll but. they love their friends more than they dislike each other so they smile and grind their teeth and *try*.

the whole thing with bucky's drinking issues brings them together because they're on the same page about that at least.

have a longgg talk when all that is going on. and it makes curt's chest hurt bc man he really has his issues with this kid but. he knows he's doing what he genuinely believes he has to, knows he only enlisted to begin with bc he felt like it was the only way he could provide for his family.

knows that all the issues he has with the guy the fuckin military is to blame for just as much if not more than croz is himself.

a more lighthearted side bar: bucky ribs him about staying in a little too- is just more lighthearted on it bc they have become more friendly since they left bagram (and get to being even better friends once they bucks have josie).

one night they're talkin when croz complains he can't do what he wants with his facial hair because of regs and bucky is like wellllll if you gotta the fuck outta there you could grow a handlebar mustache. don't let your dreams be dreams kid!

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Some replies, starting with the ones related to the dragon!Malleus drawing from yesterday.

Anonymous asked:

*claps hands and rubs them together*

Hehehehehe dragonussy ✨ (recent Malleus drawing)

Yes! Finally!! 🤤😏 After all this time…!

Anonymous asked:

Mal only tops in dragon form

Look at him, Anon.

Look at him closely.

He is a bottom bitch with a dragon pussy so big that no dick could possibly satisfy it, so he is to stay forever hungry, underfucked and cranky until the chosen one (or a donkey idk) shows himself and fucks him to the ground.

 (In all seriousness, please don’t try this with us. We don’t like switching and we mention it every single day.)

Anonymous asked:

J-Jamil, do you know what it’s like being someone looking at a man that looks the way you do? 🥵

I think he knows, Anon… he knows it well enough to abuse this power that he holds 😔 So cruel and so beautiful!

Anonymous asked:

Have you seen Jamil’s B-Day groovy? He braids his hair and puts all the pretty hair accessories in with magic! Also, his sprites have him with these headbands that he just SLAYS in. It’s not fair for him to be so pretty ♥️♥️

Yes! I really wanted to compliment Jamil for having dedication to do his braids every single day, but then the groovy dropped lol The cat is out of the bag. I guess that makes perfect sense, who would want to spend so much time on that if you can do it with magic… good for him.

The headband looks cute on him as well; this guy is way too pretty for his own good.

Anonymous asked:

Who knew Lilia discovered the theory of relativity, turned down Henry VIII, was the first person (fae?) on the moon, and escaped the Facebook lizard!

(related to an ask from yesterday)

Yes! Especially the last thing!

The fact that no one other than the rest of Diasomnia boys would believe him… younglings are so cynical these days :(

Anonymous asked:

I feel like “Wait for It” by Leslie Odom Jr. really matches Jamil especially his feelings toward Kalim near the end of the song.

I really like this song, Anon. Maybe this is because it’s kind of difficult for me to separate it from its story and Burr and Hamilton specifically…

I agree that Jamil resonates with the feeling of unfairness when some other person just keeps doing whatever he wants and winning, while he has to sit back and wait, but Jamil’s situation still feels very different.

Then again, Jamil got his “what are you waiting for though?” moment, so 🤔 You’re onto something.

Anonymous asked:

You know, when I first read that thing you wrote on Vil being taken advantage of by older men in the industry, all I could think about was "All You Wanna Do" from the Six musical. Like, listen to it while picturing Vil and you'll understand what I mean.

You ask was driving me insane for this entire week, Anon, because I was trying to find one reply where we already talked about Vil in relation to this song, but plottwist: it doesn’t exist lol But we did get an ask about it in relation to Alois! Which is funny because somehow we keep walking back to their similarities from time to time.

To answer your question though: yeah I get it. It’s like the perfect level of uncomfortable coping with the idea of “I am not being taken advantage of, I am just that good compared to others”. Vil probably had his breaking moment when he stopped lying to himself about this whole thing.

Anonymous asked:

Do you watch k dramas? If so, you should really check out Glory. It’s a super intense one

K-dramas aren’t really our thing, but I checked the synopsis of Glory, and honestly it sounds super cool! And has this vibe of a lot of k-movies that we love, interestingly.

Thank you for your recommendation!