hi! it’s ellie - otherwise known as @lesellieknope - i’ve been sat on a bunch of fic ideas for months now and wanted to finally have the motivation to get them down on paper. i also wanted a safe place to not be horny on main, so for that reason please don’t interact with this blog if you’re under the age of 18.
i’ll probably write for most drivers if the idea works but i won’t write for: max, m*zepin and carlos (for various reasons).
if you have any questions/requests/need anything tagged please just shoot me a message - otherwise, happy reading!
hello dear, I have followed you because YOUR DANNY FIC IS AWESOME T.T and I love your blog name!!!
thank u sm!!! there is a new part in the works, i'm just bogged down with a lot of real life job stuff right now which is making writing tricky. i've not forgotten about any of you or this little story though!
warnings: tooth-rotting fluff to tense angsty miscommunication back to tooth-rotting fluff in one chapter??? you’ve been warned. other references to drinking/alcohol, (rumoured) infidelity and the brieeefest sex mention. oh and zak brown. and deuxmoi.
word count: 4.5k
summary: daniel ricciardo is famously a music fan. you’re the lead singer of one of his favourite bands. match made in heaven - right?
author’s note: i’M SO SORRY FOR MAKING YOU WAIT SO LONG. but thank you to any of you still here! similarly to the last chapter, i feel like i could get a couple of spin off one shots from this chapter which honestly i might start compiling into a bonus chapter for when we reach the end (which according to my plan is now maybe only 2-3 chapters away??) ANYWHO as always this is unbeta’d so please excuse any spelling/grammar errors and any feedback is welcome!! i only recently realised that i had asks off on here, so i’d love to chat to you all about this if you have any questions!! love u all and enjoy!
as soon as daniel had recovered from the jetlag that came with travelling to his 4th time zone in as many weeks, the two of you fell into a rhythm of facetimes and imessages. you’d wake up each morning around 9 and give him a quick call from your bed - or he’d beat you to it and call you. so far he’d picked up from the beach, from his ranch and while being pounced on by his niece and nephew. the latter had made your heart swell at the sight of him so utterly and purely happy. his laugh was gentler than usual, his eyes more crinkly - he looked truly relaxed.
then, as he went to bed each evening, he’d call you. this was where you’d really discuss your days, what you’d been up to - anything and everything that crossed your minds. on christmas eve, he stayed up until midnight so that he could be the first to wish you a happy christmas from the other side of the world. you’d learned by now that with daniel, it was the tiniest gestures that meant the most.
you woke up earlier than usual on christmas morning, hearing the excited squeals of your much younger family members downstairs as they realised that santa had been. rolling over, you lazily picked up your phone from the bedside table where it had been charging, and found daniel’s contact, hitting facetime like clockwork. he picked up almost immediately, a lazy smile crossing his lips as he took you in, still tucked up within the slightly dated floral bedding.
“merry christmas” he beamed. you could hear christmas music playing in the background, and his cheeks had a glow to them that suggested they’d spent the afternoon in the sun - you assumed they’d been to the beach as a family.
“merry christmas” you replied, your voice still a little rough with sleep, as you forced yourself to sit up slightly. “have you had a nice day so far?”
he nodded, and began telling you about how good it felt to have everyone together again, the cuteness of seeing isaac and isabella get so excited over their new gifts, heading down to the beach to play a game of cricket (which naturally ended in disaster, with daniel slogging the ball into the sea, never to be seen again). seeing him so animated yet so relaxed - almost at peace - filled your heart with joy. it was a gift to see, and you hoped it would last long into the next year.
“have you opened your present yet?” you were desperate to know, curious as to whether you’d hit the mark or not.
“i haven’t actually - i was waiting for you. thought we could open them together” he said, almost bashfully.
it made you melt.
“okay” your face was alight. “yours is just in the other room, i’ll go and grab it”
you put your phone and well, daniel, back onto your nightstand and slipped out of bed, sneaking out of your room, hoping to be nimble enough to pick up the gift undetected by any of your family. thankfully, the kids had all been shepherded out of the living room where the presents were, giving you the chance to grab the gift bag that had your name on it, before nipping back to your bed.
jumping on the mess of pillows, you picked your phone back up again and held the bag up to the camera.
“got it!” you grinned.
“amazing - you first, baby” daniel insisted.
with a nod, you began undoing the bow that kept the bag together, finding two similarly sized boxes on the inside, both wrapped in luscious forest green tissue paper - very festive.
“which one first?” you asked.
“it doesn’t matter - take a lucky dip”
reaching into the bag, you screwed your eyes up unnecessarily tight to add to the surprise, and wrapped your fingers around one of the boxes, before propping your phone up so that you could use two hands to unwrap the gifts while still seeing daniel. ever so carefully, you peeled away the paper, taking care not to damage anything.
at the sight of what you were certain was a cartier box, you felt your stomach swirl.
“daniel…” you said, almost breathlessly.
“open it, go on”
with a soft ‘pop’ you opened the box, eyes widening at the sight of a beautiful, white gold bangle.
“wanted to spoil you a little and i thought this would suit you…” his voice piped up again from your phone.
he was right. it was flashy, sure, but somehow also subtle - it matched the jewellery you normally wore too - it was, quite literally, perfect.
“i love it, thank you…” you practically whispered, so entranced by the gift.
“you’re so welcome - now open the other one” the joy in his voice was evident.
taking the other box from the bag, you repeated the process of carefully undoing the paper. this time, a rather plain looking jewellery box stared back at you which piqued your interest more than the blazing red of the cartier. there were no diamonds inside this time though - in fact, there wasn’t even any metal (precious or otherwise). instead, you saw a intricately braided bracelet, thick strips of orange and grey woven into a tight loop, with speckles of various of sponsor logos flecked throughout it. you knew was it was straight away - it was his race suit.
“daniel this is…” you could feel yourself getting a little choked up. sure, the expensive bracelet was nice, beautiful even, but this was so personal that it made your heart soar.
“you ended up being such an important part of last season - i wanted you to have a little piece of it”
“this is so special, daniel, thank you…” you couldn’t wait - you took the bracelet from the box and slipped it around your wrist, fastening it tight so as not to lose it (ever).
daniel simply smiled in reply, watching you eagerly as you tightened the bracelet.
“okay, now your turn - can’t promise that mine are quite as extravagant” you warned.
daniel’s unwrapping process wasn’t quite as meticulous as yours, as you watched him tear at the paper surrounding his gifts like a excitable child. the first gift he opened was a mixtape you’d made for him, wanting to keep things old school. some of the songs you knew he liked and some of them were your own favourites. you told him that you could listen to it together on your first road trip once he was back in europe.
the second gift was a ring - almost signet in style. engraved on the front though, instead of an emblem, was a meticulously engraved portion of the song lyrics to wagon wheel - a song you knew was one of his absolute favourites. like you had with the bracelet, you watched him pluck the ring from the box it had been in, and slip it straight onto one of his fingers.
“you’re perfect, have i told you that?” he asked, with a lazy grin.
“maybe once or twice - can never tell me enough though” you replied, mirroring him.
you managed to speak for a few more minutes before you heard your mum calling you from downstairs - no doubt to rope you into some kind of christmas dinner preparation. you wished each other your goodbyes, acknowledging that you probably wouldn’t speak for the next day or so as you both navigated various family commitments, but promised to keep up via text - it’d all be fine.
—
as suspected, there’s no bedtime facetime that evening, both of you two caught up in your family antics to find a moment spare. the same goes for boxing day - however that’s mainly due to the hangovers you’re both nursing from the day/night before. you both manage to exchange a few texts here and there, mainly stupid messages or silly jokes. it feels nice.
normal.
domestic.
the rest of boxing day passes without a hitch - you and your family head out into the countryside for a refreshing walk, and daniel lets you know that he’s planning on heading into perth for a few drinks that evening - hair of the dog, and all that.
it’s only when you wake up the next day that your heart drops. there’s a text waiting in your phone from one of your bandmates asking if you’d seen this.
you practically throw your phone back onto the bedside table, your mind running at a mile a minute. what are you meant to say? how are you meant to act? are you meant to say anything at all? what if it’s a complete misunderstanding? what if you’re overreacting? what if you confront him? what if he thinks you’re being overbearing? what if it’s not true?
what if it is.
before you have time to come to terms with everything, your phone starts buzzing. looking over, you see daniel’s facetiming you. of course he is, you think. it’s the morning - it’s your normal routine at this point. not knowing what to do, you turn your phone off in a panic before stuffing it under your pillow. you lie there for a second, breathing hard, blinking up at the ceiling, before closing your eyes, desperately trying to fall back to sleep and blot out this nightmare.
—
sleep evades you.
you’re not due back in london until the following day, but you can’t think of anything worse right now than forcing a smile around your extended family and pretending like you’re not going through emotional turmoil on the inside. once you’ve fully woken up again, you go to find your mum, making a pisspoor excuse about an unexpected management meeting with your team in london that you simply can’t miss, that she somehow buys. asking her to give your apologies to the rest of the gang, you head back upstairs, taking the steps two at a time such is your desperation to get the hell out of there. you chuck your clothes into your bag with little care, gathering your gifts separately before making a dash for your car, not wanting to be commandeered by an erroneous aunt or uncle.
your phone is still firmly turned off, leaving you to use your own sense of direction to get home. in fact, it stays off until you’ve flopped onto the sofa in your living room later that evening - only being turned on so that you could order yourself a chinese takeaway, your mind and soul in need of some good old comfort food. before you reach the ordering app however, you’re met with message after message from daniel, who you soon realised was none the wiser to the rumour that had been shared, and instead was growing increasingly concerned that he couldn’t get through to you. almost immediately your anguish turns into guilt.
before you can second guess yourself, you call him.
he answers practically straight away.
“there you are…” his voice crackles through the speaker. you weren’t brave enough for facetime, hating how good it felt to hear his voice again despite everything.
“hi…” is all you can reply.
“are you alright? none of my calls would connect and my messages weren’t delivering, and i knew you were due back in london soon and i thought that maybe…” he trailed off, not wanting to admit to the various horrific scenarios that had crossed his mind.
“i’m fine, i-” you stop yourself, not really knowing how to broach the subject, especially with how worried he sounded.
“you sound funny. what’s wrong?”
biting your lip, you take a deep breath. there’s no point beating about the bush with this one.
“daniel i uh - i got sent something this morning that kind of knocked me for six, if’m being honest…”
“what was it? you’re alright aren’t you?”
“daniel i’m fine” you almost snapped. “i’m fine - it was about you actually”
“what?”
you desperately tried to pick up on the slightest hint of guilt in that one word - but you couldn’t find any. he just sounded confused.
“it um - it said that someone had spotted you last night. that you were pretty drunk and that you left…” you swallowed, steeling yourself for what was potentially to come. “that you left with a group of girls…”
“...oh for fuck’s sake”
“for fuck’s sake? what does that mean?” your defences were immediately up.
“it means it’s not what it looks like - let me explain please”
‘it’s not what it looks like’. isn’t that what every guy says in every romantic comedy where the female lead gets cheated on before finding the real guy of her dreams? you stay quiet for a moment, before nodding to yourself.
“fine. but tell me everything”
you hear him let out a breath. it shudders slightly almost as if he’s nervous.
“i’m not going to deny that i was out last night, because i was - hell, i’d already told you i was going for a few drinks. well those few drinks, turned into a lot of drinks. michael was out with me, so was blake - scotty was even in town. things always get a little silly when we’re all together and that’s exactly what happened.
“they were all with their partners, who somehow got into worse states than the boys did. everyone was crashing at mine, so when i realised that they weren’t in a fit state to stay out for much longer, i walked them all outside to a cab, that i paid for, before going back inside. nothing untoward happened, i swear. the boys can all vouch for me.”
if the ground could have swallowed you up there and then, you’d have welcomed it. you felt mortified about jumping to the worst conclusion straight away, tears of annoyance burning in your eyes.
“i’m so sorry for thinking the worst of you - god i feel like a dick” you choked out.
“no don’t, baby… you’re alright - we’re alright” his voice was soft. understanding. it made you feel worse.
“you must think i’m such a crazy girlfriend - assuming things like that with no proof… fuck, i’m sorry”
“listen to me. i’m not mad. do i wish you’d not turned your phone off and told me about this straight away? of course i do. do i blame you for reacting like that? absolutely not. it’s alright, sweetheart…”
“still feel like a twat though…” you voice cracks, betraying you, as you wiped away the tears building in your eyes with the heel of your hand.
“listen i could come back early-”
“absolutely not” you interrupted.
“i - alright”
you flinched at how abrupt you must have sounded.
“no i didn’t mean it to sound like that, i’m sorry. you’re at home with your family and your friends, you hardly ever get that time, daniel. please don’t give it up for me”
you hear him sight. “you sure? i’ll come back in a heartbeat for you”
more tears slipped from your eyes at that, ruing your unselfishness in that moment.
“i’m sure, angel. look - you said it yourself - we’re alright. we can talk about this more when you’re back, there’s no point going over and over it again before then.”
“alright, alright…” it must have been your imagination, but you were sure he sounded disappointed that you hadn’t taken him up on your offer.
“there is one thing…” you added with a sigh.
“yeah?”
“we both know there were already whispers about us after the last few months. i feel like this is just going to make things worse. i can practically imagine the tweets calling me a mug for staying with you or, i dunno, trying to find evidence that it did or didn’t happen. i feel like - it’d all be so much easier if we just said something”
“i know what you mean…” daniel said softly. “can we talk about that when i’m back though? don’t think that i don’t want to say anything it’s just - it comes with a lot of kickback. i’d rather be with you when we do it, is all”
“okay…” you reply, your voice barely a whisper at this point, all your fight and energy having been zapped from you.
there’s a few moments of comfortable silence as you allow the weight of well, everything, to settle before he speaks up again.
“got any new year's eve plans?”
a tiny smile reaches your lips, so glad for his ability to switch the subject with such ease.
“not really. think i’ll probably have a quiet one by myself. get a couple of bottles of prosecco in, watch the fireworks on tv, go to bed. very exciting”
“think i’ll probably have a quiet one myself, especially now” he adds, and you can hear the jokey sarcasm in his voice.
“oh don’t be boring by my account - go wild, babe”
“nah i’m serious - think it’ll be just what the doctor ordered”
you both settle into a relatively easy conversation from there, catching up on your antics from the past couple of days. as you speak, you finally order your much needed chinese takeaway, the arrival of which signals the end of your chat. you can’t help but apologise again before you say goodbye, which daniel effortlessly shrugs off. you promise to text him before you go to bed and there’s a mutual agreement to ease off on the daily facetimes slightly, a little extra space probably being helpful right now.
what you don’t know, is that as soon as the phone call cuts off, daniel sets about booking the first flight back to london that he can find.
—
the next few days pass in a sated haze, like that in between time during christmas and new year always seems to. you keep yourself busy with a combination of binge tv watching and giving your home a dose of much needed seasonal TLC.
when new year’s eve eventually comes around, you bundle yourself up in your thickest winter coat before heading out to the sainsbury’s local down the street, on a hunt for whatever prosecco you can get your hands on. in typical english fashion, it’s bitterly cold, and the weather forecasts that you’d seen had even spoken of the potential for a covering of snow falling that night. it hadn’t materialised yet, but the biting chill in the air made you think it may actually be on the cards.
once you got back home and made sure the prosecco was on ice, you immediately got changed into your cosiest leggings and one of daniel’s hoodies. normally new year’s eve would have you sat at your dressing table for hours, making sure you looked picture perfect for whatever party or event you’d been invited to, but not this year. your sofa only required a certain level of glam, and this was more than enough.
you dozed on and off during the afternoon, only getting up as the evening truly fell, and the various new year's tv specials began. trudging through to the kitchen you pulled your first bottle of fizz from the fridge, taking it back through to the sofa with a glass. the clock began to tick away, 7pm became 8, became 9 and so on. you took your time with the bottle, not feeling particularly in the mood to get steaming drunk by yourself. midnight continued to tick closer however, and as 11pm chimed, you decided it was time to fetch the second bottle - as well as some snacks to absorb the alcohol.
before you could reach the kitchen, there was a knock at the door. your brow furrowed in confusion - you’d not ordered anything, and you had no idea who could be calling at this time, on new year’s eve especially. however, the prosecco you’d drunk made you a little braver than usual, and you turned on your heel to head for the mystery caller instead. you were a few steps from the door when they knocked again - bloody hell, they must be impatient.
“alright, alright i’m coming!” you called, taking your keys from the console table and unlocking the door to find -
daniel.
you can’t help the elation that springs to your face, despite the pang of guilt that hits your stomach at the fact that he’s there and not back home. the forecast snow had begun falling that evening, and you smiled as you noticed the snowflakes clinging to his curls as he stood before you, a similar look of pure happiness on his face.
“what are you doing here? i told you to stay” you protest, the exasperated tone of your voice by no means matching the joy you felt.
“yeah well…” he began, his eyes practically sparkling. “i know but - i had to come and tell you that i love you, didn’t i?”
a happy, surprised laugh escapes you as you take a step closer to him, before throwing your arms around his neck, pushing up on your tiptoes to kiss him full on the mouth.
“say that again” you mumble against his lips with a grin.
“love you so fucking much” he whispers in reply, before kissing you again.
you pull him inside as you continue kissing each other, planting kiss after kiss on each other's lips as you fumble around with the lock, daniel pressed up again the door.
he pulls away slightly to look you in the eyes. “so?”
all you can do is blink, slightly dazed. “hmmm?”
“you gonna say it back?”
with foreheads pressed together, you can’t help but kiss him yet again.
“of course i love you” your voice light, airy, elated. “love you to the moon and the back, but sometimes i wish i could fucking leave you there” you add with a cheeky grin. daniel rolls his eyes fondly, mumbling something about being in love with an idiot, before leaning back in to kiss you for what felt like the 100th time in about two minutes.
you eventually pull away, moving to take his hand in yours as you pull him through to the living room, letting him drop down onto the sofa before you curled up against him, using his chest as a pillow. the tv was still on in the background, the countdown to midnight only a few minutes away. a small smile crossed your lips at the sight of thousands of people lining the banks of the thames in anticipation of the firework display that took place every year. you’d probably be able to hear them, plus the dozens of mini displays from various back gardens, from your house - you’d be able to see them too, but there was no way you were moving from daniel’s arms now that you were in them again.
as it got ever close to midnight, neither of you said much, both still coming to terms with your reunion. daniel played with your hair while you relished in hearing the soft beating of his heart once more. it was soothing, and you could feel your eyelids growing heavy as you began to succumb to the gentle comfort that his presence bought. you were quickly disturbed however by the sound of the chimes of big ben emanating from your television - it was midnight.
twisting in his arms, you looked up at daniel who looked practically as docile as you felt.
“happy new year, my love…” you whispered, trailing a fingertip delicately over his lips before leaning in to kiss him - your first (of hopefully many) new year’s kisses together.
“happy new year, angel” he replied, his voice growing thicker with sleep.
“you must be exhausted”
“something like that”
“come on then…” a soft tug on his hand as you stood up signalled for him to follow. “bedtime…”
daniel didn’t require much persuading to join you, letting you take the lead by grabbing a couple of glasses of water from the kitchen before heading upstairs. as you both sleepily trudged up the steps, daniel groaned, realising he’d left his bag in the car outside.
“leave it…” you told him. “you’ve still got a toothbrush here from before, and i’m sure i have enough of your stuff by now for you to borrow something to sleep in if you need…”
“and this is why i love you…” he said simply, with a lazy grin, which you easily returned.
within minutes you were tucked in beneath the covers. with a yawn, you reached down to take one of his hands, wanting to hold him close as you drifted off.
“good night, love…” you whispered.
he was already fast asleep.
you soon joined him, a smile plastered to your face.
—
the following day, you both wake up slowly. eventually getting out of bed, you decide to shower together. daniel had cheekily tried to suggest you christen the shower while you were in there, before you sensibly reminded him that he probably didn’t want to miss pre-season testing in a few weeks time with a sex-induced broken bone.
“i just don’t think zak would be particularly pleased, is all” you’d teased. he begrudgingly agreed.
after a couple of hours of lazily traipsing around the house, you could tell daniel was getting restless. he was like a puppy - couldn’t stay cooped up for too long, especially when the weather was fairly decent outside. it was a bright, sunny, new year’s day, even if the biting temperatures remained. there was still a good inch or so of snow in the ground, unrelenting in the sun thanks to the chill.
“fancy a walk?” you asked. daniel practically jumped up from his spot on the sofa to go and grab his trainers.
‘literal human puppy, daniel ricciardo’ you thought.
with you both wrapped up warm, you headed out, hyde park being your target destination. you’d warned daniel that it was likely to be busy - new year’s day walks were a common activity for many londoners attempting to fight off their hangovers, and with the weather as nice as it was, it was no surprise that there were many other like-minded people wandering across the expanse of parkland.
it didn’t take long for people to start recognising the two of you. admittedly, daniel was spotted more than you were, but you expected that. what made your heart swell however, was the way in which he made no effort to distance himself from you as the occasional person came over to ask for a selfie. he kept a tight hold of your hand, only letting go to step into the fan’s picture, before joining you again moments later. you’d still not had any kind of discussion around going public, but this felt like a strong gesture in favour of not hiding anything anymore. if anything, it made you hold onto him even tighter (if that were even possible). daniel was right when he said that any kind of ‘official’ announcement would be best done together, and with the stories that would no doubt start to spread as eagle eyes spotted you on your walk, it’d probably have to come soon.
back at your’s that evening, you decided to bring it up.
“do you think there’ll be spotted stories about us after this afternoon? on that stupid french sounding instagram” you asked.
“probably” daniel replied with a shrug. “why do you ask?”
it was your turn to shrug this time.
“do you think maybe… we should beat them to the punch?”
he gave you a suspicious look, though the corners of his mouth were ticked up into a curious smile.
“what do you have in mind?”
—
yourinstagram happy new year @/danielricciardo 💘
danielricciardo london is fucking cold (but worth it 😉)
disclaimer: any images are not intended to be representative of the reader.
hello out there! i know it’s been a while since my last update but believe me when i say i’m getting there - the chapter’s probably now at a point where it’s more done than not done. now feels like a good point to just state that beautifully unconventional is obviously taking place in a fictional alternative universe (the less said on this the better or i’ll get sad). however i felt bad leaving you hanging for so long so i’ve dabbled about this evening and made both daniel and reader’s camera rolls! you can click each one for full-size. i’ve also recently realised i haven’t had asks enabled on here, so feel free to send through any questions/feedback/thoughts - i’d love to chat with you all!
Synopsis: You've been avoiding Steve and he cannot for the life of him think of any reason why - you've been inseparable ever since you became official. A talk with his best friend reveals the reason why you've been acting so strange, and Steve tries to make up for being an oblivious dickhead.
Steve knew you were avoiding him, despite your best efforts at pretending you weren’t. He had barely seen you over the past week. It marked a drastic change from your usual routine. Either Steve or you would show up at each other’s place - Steve cradling a new VHS from Family Video and your favourite snacks, you carrying bags of groceries in your hands and whatever book you’d lent from Hawkins’ public library tucked neatly beneath your arm. Steve loved laying on your chest, your fingers gently playing with the stray hair at the back of his neck, listening to you read to him with that sweet voice of yours. He loved watching scary movies with you, because inevitably, you ended up half on top of him, limbs intertwined, hiding your face in the hollow of his throat. So, this sudden change in your little cosy routine was worrying Steve. He tried to call you, but you’d been curt over the phone and had only responded to his questions with monosyllables - he realised you were using your proper adult phone voice, and he’d be lying if it didn’t sting. It wasn’t until he talked to Robin during their shift at Family Video, that the reason why you were acting so strange was dawning on him.
“So,” Robin stared at Steve over the register, barely keeping herself from rolling her eyes at him, “what you’re telling me is that she was all happy go lucky until about 3 days ago.”
“Uh…yeah.” Steve shrugged his shoulders, annoyed at Robin repeating his words back to him.
“And she seemed agitated for seemingly no reason…” She paused for a moment, studying her best friend’s face, placing her forearms on the counter, “and to top it all of, she doesn’t want to see you right now, even though we both know she’s head over heels in love with you.”
Steve furrowed his brow, motioning with his hand for her to continue. He had no idea what Robin was getting at. She grinned at him, and he felt himself grow even more annoyed than he had been to begin with. He loved Robin, adored her quirky personality, but she was not immune to pushing his buttons.
“Aunt Flo has come to town!”, she exclaimed, and Steve felt even more confused than before. “The Reds are playing Downtown? Shark week?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Steve glowered at her. “Can you stop with the fucking euphemisms and just tell me what’s going on?”
Robin groaned and let her head drop onto her forearms. Steve was so unbearably stupid and oblivious at times it genuinely pained her. Slowly, she looked up at him. “Steve, she’s on her period. How long have you been going out? Like as a couple?”
“Three weeks.” He said, voice almost a whisper. He felt like a fucking dickhead.
“Well, there ya have it.” Robin snuck one of the bubblegum pink lollipops out of the bowl on the counter, unwrapped it, and popped in her mouth with a loud ‘plop’ sound. “Always glad to help.”
“Woah, woah, woah, I still need some help here.” Steve grabbed her upper arms as she turned to leave. “What do I do?”
She shrugged his hands off. “I don’t know, she seems to be wanting to spend time by herself. Can’t blame her to be honest, periods suck.”
“So, have you also avoided being with a girl when you…” Steve asked, voice trailing off, hand mussing up his perfectly coiffed hair.
“First of all, I’ve never even had a girlfriend, Harrington.” She rolled her eyes at him. “And second of all, not everyone has the same symptoms, you know?” Robin shrugged, tilting her head to the side. “If I remember correctly, Y/N used to miss one or two days of school each month. And she was rarely ever sick.”
“She did?” Steve gulped thickly. If only he had payed close attention to you when you had still been in high school.
“If you hadn’t been so busy fucking every preppy girl at Hawkins High, you might actually have noticed,” Robin remarked, as if she’d read his mind. “Anyways…you know what I’m like when I get my period?”
“Unfortunately.” Robin lightly smacked his shoulder and Steve winced. “Alright, sorry. Yes I do.”
“Well, I guess it’s even worse for her, which is probably why she is avoiding you.” Steve’s dark eyebrows knitted together, nimble fingers toying with the cord of the phone. “You’ve only been going out for a couple of weeks, and you still have this perfect girlfriend image of her she doesn’t want to destroy just yet.”
“I don’t have a -” Steve protested, but Robin continued. “Yeah you do. Don’t worry, she’s got a perfect boyfriend image of you, too. She doesn’t want you to destroy it by behaving like an insensitive dick either.” Robin giggled at the dumbfounded expression on her best friend’s face. “Don’t look so surprised, Harrington. Just because you’re a whore doesn’t mean you’re not boyfriend material.”
“Robin…” Steve buried his face in his hand, heaving a sigh. “Can we please get back to you helping me not be a dick to my girlfriend?”
“Fine.” She hopped up onto the counter, crossing her legs and staring down at him. “Get a pen and some paper, loverboy.”
“I swear to God, if you weren’t my best friend I’d have killed you by now.” Steve muttered, as he turned to reach for the legal pad he stored beneath the register. Then, he slipped a ballpen out of the breastpocket of his Family Video vest. “Alright, hit me.”
“Okay.” Robin tapped her fingers on the counter, creating a soft pitter-patter sound. “If you want to go and visit her, don’t show up empty handed.” Steve looked up at her, narrowing his chocolate brown eyes. “I never do.”
Robin rolled her eyes. “I know. But this is different. A VHS and Pringles won’t be enough.” She chewed on her lip, her brows knitting together in thought. “Pick up some regular tampons, pads, and some advil. To cover all bases.”
“Tampons, pads, advil”, Steve repeated, scribbling onto the notepad, “Got it.”
“Okay so that was the easy part.” Robin sucked harshly on her lollipop, pink lips twisting into a mischievous grin. “Now for the ‘how not to behave like a total dickhead when your girlfriend is on her period’ part.” Steve groaned, throwing his head back. “And clearly you need a lot of help in that department.”
Robin giggled. “Just turn the Harrington charm on and you’ll be fine. Don’t make any stupid period jokes or act all grossed out. You’re an adult.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Steve waved a hand at her, turning to walk around the counter. “Do you mind closing the store tonight?” He asked as he walked towards the small employee room at the back of the store.
“Nah, it’s all good. You go and be a perfect little boyfriend to Y/N. Tell her I said hi, but in case everything goes to shit, do not tell her I gave you advice!” Robin yelled after him.
“Bye Robin”, Steve yelled back. He grabbed his keys and his wallet, before leaving the store.
-
You felt terrible for avoiding Steve. He was nothing but sweet to you - he’d even tried calling you, but after the second awkward conversation he’d given up. You couldn’t blame him. If you had the chance, you’d also hang up on yourself. Since your first period, you had always struggled the week prior to getting it. Sometimes, you just felt like a heavy blanket was weighing you down. Other times you felt like crawling out of your own skin. This particular week, you were experiencing the latter, and worse than usual.
For the past three days, you had been holed up in your apartment. You had no interest in meeting people right now - which wasn’t their fault at all. No, it was yours. Red hot anger was cursing through your veins; every little mishap led to tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Even the sound of your own breathing annoyed you. It was hard not seeing Steve, not being able to inhale his scent - soapy and musky and just him - or to touch him, his skin soft beneath your touch. It would be harder to let him see you like this, though. Unkempt, in big, black grandma underwear, and an old Led Zeppelin t-shirt that was so worn out and stained, other people would have thrown it away long ago.
Now you were lying on the sofa in your small living-room, under a soft, baby blue blanket, toed socks poking out from beneath. A paperback copy of Pet Semetary in your lap, marking the page you were reading with your finger in between the yellowed paper, you stared at the ceiling. An empty mug was perched precariously on top of a stack of magazines - Rolling Stone, Seventeen, Cosmopolitan, Vogue. A random talk show was playing on your tv, the volume turned all the way down. Soft white noise crackling in the background. You hated when your apartment was eerily quiet, but you also loathed loud sounds. These days, you startled easily.
When your doorbell rang, you nearly jumped off your sofa. Slowly, you got up, walking quietly along the coffee table. You stood up on your tiptoes and leaned forward, looking outside the window. As you realised how was standing in front of your door, you felt your heartbeat relax. You crossed the living-room and the small foyer quickly, the soft padding of your feet across the floor echoing throughout the apartment,
“Hi,” Steve said as you opened the door. He wore a pair of light blue Levi’s and that dark blue shirt you loved so much. God, you’d missed him.
“I know you’d rather be alone, so if you want me leave, that’s ok. I just wanted to bring you a couple of things”, he said, and your heart swelled in your chest.
Steve’s heart sank a little as he took you in - hair askew, dark bags under your eyes, a t shirt that almost swallowed you whole, and the aura of someone who was uncomfortable in their own skin. He was worried about you, he realised. Robin had been right to send him over to your place, even if it was just to drop off some supplies. If there was one thing Steve loved doing it was taking care of people. Especially his loved ones, and you were on top of his list.
You stepped aside with a small smile on your face. “Well, come on in.”
Steve walked pass you, his arm brushing yours. The small contact sent an electric jolt through your body. You wondered if he had felt it, too. He made his way to your small kitchen, navigating the space as if it was his own, his home. A warm feeling spread throughout your core as you watched him place the two grocery bags on the small kitchen table. He turned to retrieve a glass out of one of the cupboards, his shirt riding up and exposing a small sliver of pale skin. You couldn’t help but stare at it, itching to caress his soft skin, to feel it beneath the pads of your fingers.
Steve turned, lips curving into a sly grin. “What ya looking at, huh?” He watched you as he stepped over to the sink, leaning his hip against the counter.
You felt your cheeks grow hot under his gaze. “Nothing.” He shook his head, a few stray strands of hair falling into his face. “And this nothing…it wouldn’t have anything to do with my shirt riding up, now would it?”
Steve enjoyed teasing you - especially after barely seeing you all week. He loved seeing you squirm uncomfortably, nervously chewing on your plump lower lip, averting your gaze. It was unbelievably charming how easily a few glimpses of naked skin and some light banter turned you into putty in his hands. It wasn’t just one sided, though. Likewise, Steve also melted into a puddle when he caught a whiff of your perfume, stared at a sliver of exposed skin, or watched you do mundane things. There’s nothing he loved more than making dinner with you at his house - the kitchen had never been a place of comfort for him; in fact, he’d avoided it as much as he could growing up. His parents had always fought in the kitchen, and thereby turned a room that was supposed to be the heart of their home into an inhospitable environment. Steve had mainly survived off of microwave TV dinners and sandwiches - he’d prepared them in the kitchen but never eaten them there. Instead, he’d developed a little routine. He’d buy a couple of VHS tapes or lend one from one of his friends after school. Then, he’d try and get some homework done, but more often than not he’d get bored and just drop it alltogether. Instead, he’d either try and hook up with whatever girl he was seeing that week, or he’d end up watching one of the many VHS tapes in his collection. Only when he started to feel hungry did he finally give in and venture to the kitchen - but his aim was always to spend as little time as possible preparing dinner.
But all of that changed when you came into his life, all warmth, and kindness, and light. You’d turned that kitchen into an oasis, a refuge even. Since he had becomed your boyfriend, Steve loved nothing more than to spend time in a place he’d avoided at all cost for most of his teenage years.
Now, he wanted to repay you for your tireless efforts. “Don’t worry babe, I love being ogled by you. It’s cute.” He chuckled, as he turned the tap on and held the glass under the steady stream. When it was full, he shut the tap off again and walked over to you. He held out the glass for you and you gladly accepted it.
“Thanks, Steve.” You offered him a small smile, before taking a large sip.
Meanwhile, he was ruffling through one of the plastic bags until he’d found what he was looking for. He placed a bottle of medication on the table. “I got you some Advil - I didn’t know if you had any left, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to stock up anyways.” He rambled. “Have you taken any yet?”
“No.” You wagged your head from side to side. “I’m - I’m not even on my period yet actually, Steve.” You continued, tilting your head. “But my boobs hurt like hell, so I might as well take some.”
“Okay, wait a minute.” Steve scratched his forehead. “You’re not even…on it yet?”
“Have you ever heard of PMS?” You asked gently, afraid to breach the topic. Steve nodded yes. “Well, I have an extreme form of it. It’s why I avoid being around people, especially those I love.” Steve looked at you, eyes soft, his expressions edged with worry and care. “Other girls get cranky and a little bloated before their period. I get that times 100 and with added symptoms, like the sore boobs.” You explained, toying with the torn hem of your shirt, the fabric soft against your skin.
“Any other symptoms I should know about?” Steve asked, voice laced with concern.
You walked over to where he was standing, placing the glass of water next to the advil bottle. “How long you got?” You joked, but the little quiver in your voice didn’t go unnoticed by Steve.
“Oh babe,” Steve responded, taking your face in his large hands, “I’ve got all the time in the world.” He gingerly kissed your forehead, his lips warm and comforting against your skin. You felt tears prick at the corner of yóur eyes, as you wrapped your arms around his waist. He was solid beneath your touch and close enough you could smell him - laundry detergent, crisp citrus, musk, and Steve. If you could bottle his scent up and turn it into a perfume, you would.
“Hey, hey, you okay?” Steve asked as he realised your eyes were brimming with tears.
“Yeah, ‘m just glad you’re here is all.” You whispered, voice soft and airy. “Missed you.”
Steve gently wiped away the few tears that had escaped with the calloused pads of his thumbs. “I missed you, too, pretty girl.” He placed a tender kiss on your lips. “You can tell me anything and I won’t judge you, all right? You’re safe with me,” he whispered, his eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort.
You exhaled, feeling some of the builtup tension leave your body. It was true - Steve was your safe space, your sanctuary. “I know,” you whispered, “I’m just not used to guys actually caring, y’know My exes never took me seriously.”
Steve huffed, grimacing. “Well, those guys are assholes.”
“Yeah they are.” You agreed, giggling. Steve’s heart ached at the sound. “What else did you get?”
“Pads, tampons, some of your favourite snacks, and some of the VHS tapes I picked up from Family Video this week.” He turned towards the bag, one of his arms dropping down to your waist, ruffling through the bags with the other. “I got St. Elmo’s Fire and Silkwood. Those sound good?”
“Yeah.” You leant up and pressed a chaste kiss to his jawline. “Thank you, Steve. I don’t deserve you.”
“I am a pretty amazing boyfriend,” he grinned down at you, brown eyes bright with mirth.
You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Don’t get cocky Harrington, I’m not in the mood.”
Steve laughed softly - he’d missed your teasing and the way your nose crunched when you were playfully annoyed with him. “Alright, babe. How about you go lie back down while I store away all the stuff I brought. Then we can either cuddle up on the sofa or you can tell me to leave you the hell alone.” He offered.
You whimpered at the thought of him leaving you again. “Please stay.”
“Well since you asked so nicely..” He grinned, and you gently swatted at his back. “Alright, I’m sorry. I’d be happy to stay and take care of you. Now go lie down, I’ve got it from here.”
“You’re bossy, you know that?”
He shrugged, trying not to flinch at the loss of contact as you untangled yourself from him. “I worry about you is all.”
“It’s one of my favourite things about you,” you stated, before turning and leaving. Steve felt a blush creep up his face. God, he loved you.
-
“How’re ya holding up, babe?” Steve asked, as he walked into the living room, the VHS tapes in one hand, and an assortment of snacks tucked in his arm. The cuff of his shirt was pushed up sligthly, blue cotton stretching over his biceps.
“I’m doing okay. Feel better now that you’re here.” You pushed yourself up on the sofa and dragged the blanket back, to make space for him. “I’d feel even better after some cuddles, ya know.”
Steve walked over to where you were sat, lips curling into a small smile, dark hair framing his handsome features. “Well I think I can help with that.” He placed the snacks and the tapes on the coffee table, careful not to destroy your little arrangement.
“Come here,” he opened his arms to you, expression kind and inviting.
You buried your face in the hollow of his throat, inhaling his scent. Steve pulled you into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. He placed a kiss to the top of your head, rubbing the spot between your shoulder blades. His gentle caresses and the warmth radiating from his body made your eyelids grow heavy. Steve noticed how your breathing slowed - he gently moved you onto his lap, your legs on either side of his, then lowered himself down, until his head hit the pillow perched at the edge of the sofa. He draped the blanket over you, careful not to disturb your slumber. Steve felt a content sort of warmth spread throughout his body, lulling him to sleep.
So the two of you slept, limbs intertwined, the tapes and the snacks on the coffee table long forgotten. But it didn’t matter - you could always get to them later.
okay so writers block kicked my arse but i’m back. hi. this chapter has it all. smut, fluff, angst. we stan an emotional rollercoaster. n e wayz bon appetite, enjoy, lemme know what you think/what you wanna see from this fic going forward!!
in which it’s perfect, until reality kicks in and it isn’t anymore.
warnings: 18+!! minors stay back!! smut, ANGST, fluff, language, someone gets called a slut in a not hot way, an i am stupid-esque moment
6.1k words
a week in italy with george was enough for you to know that you’d stumbled into something special.
you spent a week apart after hungary, visiting family and recuperating after a hectic first half of the season, before he’d whisked you away. he seemed to enjoy that, taking you places that were symbolic of romance. the amount you missed him during that week apart was almost shameful, and you’d made sure to tell him every night when he called to ask about your day. you were less embarrassed when he said it back, a lazy smile ingrained in his voice that triggered your own.
you spent the early flight to milan slumped against his shoulder, attempting to read a book that you simply weren’t interested in. instead, you stared at him, scanning his side profile as if you wanted to commit every little detail to memory. his high cheekbones, the way his eyelashes curled in a way that made you envious, his full lips that you couldn’t help but press your own against. he was so beautiful, and he was yours.
a quick trip through the airport and you were set free into the heavy italian heat, the sunshine seeping into your bones. george collected the mercedes he’d been given for your travels, driving you both through the countryside until you reached one of the most beautiful houses you’d ever seen. a lavish italian villa stood before your eyes, surrounded by nothing but blue sky and serenity. there was nothing and no one to disturb you; peace, at last.
you spent your days lounging by the pool, tasting wine at a local vineyard, letting him touch you in all the ways that somehow only he could. if you weren’t rolling around your shared king sized bed, he was taking you on long walks when it cooled off in the late afternoons, showing off his terrible italian skills, holding your hand on your incognito trips to the supermarket. you took pictures for him to post on instagram, noting the ones that his friends would take the piss out of him for. he caught you off guard, obsessed with taking candids of you, of documenting all the little things.
you couldn’t formulate an idea in your head of what could ruin this. you were so undeniably happy, and it was all because of george. whatever this was between you, it was written somewhere. it had to be. how could two people, so sick of the sight of one another, so filled with disdain, end up holidaying in the italian countryside, on the verge of saying three words that would change everything? quite impressive, really.
the topic of your old ways had uncomfortably come up one evening as you sat on the balcony and stared at the stars. it had started as a joke, george questioning how you’d ever managed to resist him, but one look in your eyes made him stop in his tracks. you looked so apologetic, almost guilty, that he’d immediately thrown his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest.
“sweetheart?” he’d whispered, voice so gentle, even as he despised the small frown on your face and the way your eyebrows furrowed.
“i’m sorry.” you’d mumbled. you couldn’t look at him.
“for what?” he sounded genuinely confused, and that was enough of a persuasion for you to whip your head up and meet his eyes. he looked borderline concerned, thrown off course completely by your apology.
“everything i said. all of it. i had no reason to go after you like that in the press.” you confessed, words coated in regret. the doubt you’d cast on his debut with mercedes was uncalled for. sure, he had annoyed the ever living fuck out of you, but he was still the best upcoming talent on the grid. you had no right to question him. sat in his arms, on an italian balcony, staring at the stars, he’d given nothing to doubt about him.
“you were just doing your job.” george almost shrugged it off, but you could see how your words had pulled at a heartstring. he looked a very strange combination of sad and touched.
“no, george, that was not my job, it was disgraceful and unprofessional and stupid and i’m so sorry, i’m so-“ you were rambling, your words moving a million miles an hour, until they couldn’t anymore, warm lips pressed gently to yours to ease your worrying. the crease in your eyebrows melted away, as did the rest of the tension in your body, until you were left with nothing but his touch, moulding your languid body against him.
a quick break for air, and his thumbs were stroking your cheekbones, barely a few centimetres between you. foreheads pressed together, eyes locked, he spoke.
“you were just doing your job.” his words were firmer this time, hanging heavy in the space between your lips until they settled across your entire body, easing you finally. all you could do was nod, in awe of him, nothing new.
how did you get so lucky? how was he everything you needed? a six foot two needle in the worlds haystack, and somehow you’d found him.
when he’d kissed you into the sofa, pressing you into the cushions, it had felt different. his kiss was slower, every movement was guided by a different type of intent to what you were used to with him. you were anxious to get him on top of you, and usually, he took great pleasure in hearing you beg for him, but that night was different. his lips didn’t leave yours as he’d undressed you, swallowing your whines as he caressed your bare skin, goosebumps decorating your skin as the cold air of the night dusted over your naked body.
only when he decided he’d needed a taste of you did he pull away from your lips. there was a look in his eyes, an intensity that startled you, took your breath away. a look that you quickly missed as he began to pepper kisses down your neck, your chest, his eyes fluttering shut as he got lost in the map of your body. as his lips moved across your lower stomach, the creases of your hips, you seemed to melt even further into the sofa, a hand settling on the back of his head. when he’d spread you apart, guttural moan tearing from the back of his throat as he licked into you, you were lost. you didn’t know if anyone else would ever measure up.
under the italian stars, everything was different.
-
after the break, nothing could have burst your bubble. you were practically high on him, sickeningly falling. there had been some sort of gravitational shift between you, something unspoken worth a million words. you’d had a couple of days back home in london to recuperate and prepare for belgium, a million and one things on your to do list. that didn’t stop you from falling asleep against his chest in his apartment every night. you’d slotted into each other’s lives almost seamlessly.
you’d kissed him deeply on your doorstep when he left for the airport, his flight to belgium a few hours before yours, raking your fingers through his hair. sweet whispers passed between you, see you later’s and i’ll miss you’s. another few kisses and he was gone. you couldn’t wait to share the weekend with him, you had a sneaky feeling you were in for a good one.
it was raining in spa when you’d arrived, tanned and beaming, nothing all that shocking. you were refreshed, and excited to be back at work, never too far away from the man that you were pretty sure you were in love with. cloud nine had never felt better, and you had floated into the weekend raring to go. nothing could have burst your bubble, you thought.
naturally, nothing lasts.
it had started out as whispers. a few people in the paddock looked at you for a second too long, eyes squinting as they looked rapidly between your face and their phones as you passed by. you’d continued your walk through the paddock with furrowed eyebrows, self conscious beyond measure. you felt like a zoo animal, under scrutiny with every step you took. you wondered, stupidly, what it could possibly be about. you refused to acknowledge what you knew it had to have been. you refused to accept that they knew. you thought back to articles you’d written, your tweets, a podcast you’d been on, something controversial you’d said or done, anything to settle your mind.
but you knew what it was.
when you’d bravely unlocked your phone, after retrieving it with shaky hands from your bag, you opened twitter, trying to hold your head high as you typed your name, followed by george russell, into the search bar. you’d had to re type it more times than you’d care to admit, uneven breath and twitching fingers making the simple task harder than it needed to be. you could have burst into tears when you’d seen what everyone else already had, your obvious suspicions confirmed instantly.
you and george, candids from the italian supermarket. a couple of shots from the airport. his hands were on you. it was undeniable.
the low quality pictures would have been amusing to you, had you not been on the verge of collapsing in the middle of the paddock. the domesticity, the mundanity of george russell pushing a shopping trolley with one hand, the other one loosely linked with yours, should have made you smile. you scrolled through twitter, another mistake. tweet after tweet made your eyes prick further with tears. you’d just about scoffed, a strangled laugh leaving your rapidly closing throat as you read the words “wannabe ted kravitz slut”, when you felt a hand on your shoulder.
“sweetheart-“ you heard his voice before you’d even turned around.
“george, what the fuck are you doing?” whipping around to face him, you cut him off. what on earth was he doing? you were out in the open, exposed to the rest of the f1 community. there had to be at least ten cameras on you already.
“please don’t cry, we’re going to sort this out-“ he looked pained as he watched tears track slowly down your face, the fear clouding your eyes. you looked broken.
“no, you need to leave me alone. we can talk about this later, but you need to go.” somehow, you found conviction. even in such a state, you still burned fiercely.
“as if i can leave you here like this.” he argued, as if it was glaringly obvious, which it may well have been, but you had worked far too hard for your career to let a paddock sighting with your newly exposed boyfriend ruin it.
“well you’re going to have to. we cannot let this get even worse than it already is.” you almost sounded amused. perhaps it was just the panic seeping in.
“it’s not that bad.” george tried to be level, rational. bless him. there was no use.
“maybe not for you, george. this will ruin me.”
“sweetheart, please. i know the press are bad but-“ you didn’t let him finish his sentence; there was no ‘but’.
“i know the press are bad! i’m one of them! they’re going to eat me alive.” you rambled. “you need to get away from me.”
“darling, i can’t just-“
“yes, you can. go!”
“but i-“
“go!” he looked defeated, as he finally gave in and stepped back from you.
your eyes told him to keep walking, and so, he did, backing away slowly until he managed to bring himself to turn around, convincing himself that it’s what you wanted. you kept your eyes on him until he disappeared from your sight. very calmly, you wiped your face, clutching your bag even tighter as you plastered a neutral look on your face and kept walking.
you reached your media building, walking up the few steps that led inside, waving at your producer who gave you a tight, uncomfortable smile. you placed your bag down, took off your rain jacket, and made your way into the bathroom.
you couldn’t be sure of exactly how long you’d sat in the cubicle sobbing, but you definitely knew that you needed to fix your mascara before you went on air.
how long would you and george last, now that the world was against you?
-
the tension only increased. you spent the entirety of thursday and friday suffocating on air, the weight of the world sitting on your chest. it didn’t help that you were avoiding george like the plague. he knew to keep his distance, knew that he had to, no matter how much you missed him. it killed you, watching him ignore you out of the corner of your eye, pretending like you didn’t know each other. even before you’d fallen into bed, it was rare for you to miss a media session together. somehow you’d always sought one another out, enjoying the chase, the proximity. neither of you were enjoying this forced separation.
you were on strict orders to stay away from george all weekend. the lecture from your boss and the bollocking you’d gotten from your producer was enough of a warning. you knew what was at risk if you dared veer into his arms, and so, you behaved, perhaps for the first time in your career. just this weekend, they’d insisted, just until this blows over. you knew it wouldn’t.
saturday came, rain trickling drearily from the sky, doing absolutely nothing for your sour mood. george had qualified well, just as he usually did, making the corners of your lips upturn as much as they were allowed to with your bosses and the rest of the media pen watching you. you didn’t let your eyes wander around the pen as you waited for the drivers to turn up, focusing on your notes to avoid the stares. the rumour mill was truly pathetic.
you were first joined by lance, then seb, mick, lando, daniel. a few more of them. you finished your slot with plenty of stellar quotes, some quality content and absolutely nothing from the british driver staring at your helplessly from beside his disgruntled press officer.
-
as your sunday progressed, you realised that things seemed to be looking up. there were less filthy looks and your producer actually managed to crack a smile at you. quite the result.
the churning down of the dramatic saga was probably aided by someone at redbull saying something slightly distasteful about someone at ferrari, and the effects of silly season catching up with everyone, but you were just happy to seemingly be making it out of the weekend alive, and with a headline. at least redbull were useful for some things.
you still hadn’t seen george alone. it was rather ridiculous to you that it was mostly your own doing. had you have not sent him away as soon as the dam broke, the weekend may have been slightly less excruciating. you were a couple, supposed to fight through these sorts of things together, and you had pushed him away at the first chance you had. he’d called you multiple times and you’d let it go to voicemail, staring anxiously at the screen. his texts were replied to with short and snappy answers, yes, you were okay, and i promise we’ll talk about this.
george was going crazy and you felt horrible.
you supposed you were in a way. george wanted to follow his heart, while you were hellbent on listening to your head. self preservation, you were calling this isolate stint. if this got any worse, he’d keep his seat, toto would probably even give him a high five for keeping the press on his good side. you would not be so lucky. you were more inclined to receive a slap on the wrist and a torn up contract. luckily for you, things had calmed down.
you watched on, under the cloud strewn sky as he brought it home p3. your boyfriend had definitely earned his nickname, mr consistent jumping out of his car to hug lewis and slap charles on the back. you watched him on the screen in the media pen as all three podium sitters disappeared from parc ferme and made their way into the cool-down room. you smiled stupidly as you watched him chatter with the other drivers, downing a bottle of water as he did. his little comments on the race highlights had you laughing quietly to yourself behind your notebook; it had been a rather dramatic race.
“i’m going to get slandered for that.” george laughed as the monitor showed him overtaking perez, and you knew he was right. the other driver had been less than impressed over the team radio. charles and lewis laughed along with him, lewis quickly engrossing himself back into the race. charles, however, did not.
“i wouldn’t worry, mate, it’s not like your girlfriend is gonna let you get bad press-“ as if his words had suddenly registered, the monegasque man went as red as his race suit, slapping his hand over his mouth. george paled in comparison, tensing in his seat, while lewis’s head snapped round to stare at the pair of younger drivers. charles might have muttered a few lines of apology, a chorus of “i am stupid”but you couldn’t be sure. all you could hear was white noise as your cheeks burned bright, suddenly under everyone’s intense stare once again.
you knew charles hadn’t meant to say it. you knew drivers had a tendency to forget that the cameras were rolling, what with all of that adrenaline. but the damage was done. you’d just about clawed your reputation back with some good old fashioned journalism and an unbothered - albeit fake - smile, only for that hard work to be absolutely obliterated in a matter of seconds by a joke between friends.
you had a quick decision to make. you could go, shove the microphone in your quivering hands at your colleague; run away and let the paddock swallow you whole, cry a bit in a quiet corner. or, you could stay, complete the job you’d been brought here to do, and then go and cry in a corner. if you went with the latter, you might actually keep your job. or, you’d be fired anyway for causing a scene before any drivers had even turned up. there were too many ‘ifs’, ‘buts’, ‘what ifs’; with your head held high, you would get this over with and then you would find your boyfriend, sort this out once and for all. he’d done nothing wrong, done nothing to cast any doubt in your mind, and you wouldn’t blame him if he was doubting you. all you needed to do was a couple of interviews, ask a few questions, and this mindfuck of a weekend would be over.
-
it was gruelling.
the entire media session was slow, borderline painful, but it was over. as far as you were aware, you still had a job. exhausted from the soul sucking weekend and the gloomy weather, you trudged through the hotel lobby. you looked a wreck, hair thrown up in a makeshift bun, mascara further darkening the bags under your eyes, but it was over. the weekend was over. as you walked past the receptionist, a young blonde, she glared at you. you had no issue, basking in your pity party, with glaring back. you were past caring about people giving you dirty looks, past caring about people at all. there was just about one person that you cared about and he was locked away about eight floors up.
you caught sight of yourself, your murky reflection staring back at you in the reflection of the elevator doors as you waited. shoulders sagging, bag clutched tightly, you looked like a shell of your usually confident, put together self. you shuffled into the elevator as the doors slid open, staring blankly at the buttons for a second, but you knew that there was only one place that you needed to go. without a second thought, without letting that voice in the back of your head convince you that george hated you now, you hit the button for the eighth floor. when the elevator doors opened, you crept up the corridor. stopping outside of his door sent your heart rate spiking.
he won’t want to see you.
yes, he will.
go back to your own room. the mini bar is stocked.
oh, just knock on the damn door.
you didn’t even realise that you were already rapping your knuckles against the wood, the thought barely registering until the door swung open. your hand fell limply to your side.
you stared at him.
he stared back. his expression, unreadable.
his hand reached out, gently grasping your wrist, tugging you into the large hotel room. silence surrounded you both, no sound apart from the door slowly meeting the hinge with a muffled slam.
“congratulations, baby.” you whispered. your voice was so weak, you wondered if he’d even heard you. you couldn’t even attempt to crack the code of his elusive expression, tears welling in your eyes, blurring the beautiful man in front of you.
george didn’t respond, using his grip on your wrist to pull you in to him. one of his hands stroked your back, the other one stroking your hair as you buried your face into his chest. you let a few stray tears slip out. you’d desperately missed his touch, wrapping your arms around his waist to keep him against you for as long as you could.
“how are you doing, sweetheart? are you okay?” george murmured against your forehead, peppering kisses there.
“it’s over now. i’m going to take a few weeks off.” you replied, somewhat defeated, but you’d do what you needed to do to move past this. you felt him nod against the top of your head.
“i’m sorry about what charles said. he couldn’t stop apologising.” george continued.
“it’s fine. don’t care about anything else. just want to be here with you.” you mumbled. “i’m so sorry, george.”
he pulled back, hands coming to rest on your sides as he stared down at you.
“you have nothing to apologise for, darling.” his tone was firm, but you weren’t having any of it.
“yes, i do. i let us down, i- i left you to deal with all of that shit alone because i was too worried about myself and-“
“you silly girl. stop it. stop apologising for things. my team took care of most of it. these things happen, it was bound to come out eventually, but you were caught off guard. i can’t blame you for that.” george’s voice was so soft, so velvety as he spoke, commanding all of your attention as you stared at him in awe.
“i don’t deserve you.” you breathed. he scoffed. “it’s true! i’m a disaster.” you continued. you could already feel yourself lightening up as you heard him laugh softly. you might have even cracked a small smile.
“you’re perfect.” he mumbled, staring down at you. it was your turn to scoff. “my disaster.” he added. you melted a bit. you were still his.
you kissed him. it had been too long, too many days had passed. you held his face in your hands, thumbs grazing his cheekbones as he wrapped his arms around your waist. he kept you close, kiss firm, passionate, and you melted right into him. something changed, snapping within you, and you were pushing him over to his bed, overcome with the sudden urge to feel every single part of him. you needed it.
when he sat down at the foot of the plush hotel bed, you followed, splayed out across his lap. you lips stayed connected, tongue licking into his mouth as you moved frantically. he broke away, pulling back to search your eyes, zoning in on the way you shook ever so slightly on top of him.
“shh, shh, sweetheart,” he stroked your arms, alleviating some of the shakes but leaving goosebumps in his wake. “what do you need, baby?” he crooned, lips moving over your collarbone.
“need you, george. missed you so much.” you emphasised your words with a roll of your hips. your skirt had rolled up, the only thing covering you being the dark lace of your underwear. he just smiled at you, all lazy and smug. he’d been waiting all weekend to hear you say those words. he knew you’d come back to him.
“yeah, sweetheart? missed me?” you nodded rapidly, so easily falling under his spell. “i’ve missed you too. gonna let me show you how much i’ve missed you?” he looked you square in the eyes as he spoke, loving that way yours fluttered shut. kisses trailed over your collarbone and your neck. he licked over your sensitive skin, finding that spot on your neck that made your thighs clench, only spurring you on to grind down on him. you rolled your hips over his, feeling the way he was straining against the material of his sweats.
“are you gonna let me show you, sweetheart? or are you gonna keep grinding on me like my needy little slut?” george whispered in your ear, sending your back into a perfect arch. you couldn’t even help yourself, panting as you rocked your hips faster, your clit stimulated with every movement. “bet you could cum for me like this, couldn’t you? have you really missed me this much, my love?” you whined at his words.
“come here, love, just like that.” george spoke as he readjusted you on his lap, your legs now straddling one of his thighs. “take what you want. make yourself cum for me. can see how bad you want it, so take it, baby.” he ran his thumb over your bottom lip as he instructed you, eyes fixed on yours.
he didn’t have to tell you twice, your hips grinding down, just as they had been. you could feel how wet you were against your underwear, hips rolling erratically to get yourself off through the material. you were a whining mess, embarrassingly close already as you chased your orgasm. he groaned softly, an accidental buck of his hips giving away just how much he’d missed you too. his eyes darted between your own and where you were joined to his thigh, a growing wet patch on his grey joggers making him curse. his grip on your hips tightened, urging you to move even faster.
“george, please.” you sounded broken, desperate to cum. your eyes had glazed over, one of your hands resting over your clothed breast, the other one tugging the hair at the nape of his neck.
“come on, sweetheart, that’s it. such a good girl for me. you’re so good, cum for me, my good girl.” his string of praise had you falling forward on his lap, burying your head in his neck as you came.
you rested there for a moment, breathing heavy. he traced circles into your hips with his thumbs, soothing you as you came back down. as you settled, you ran your tongue up his neck, pressing a kiss just below his ear.
“need you, george. please.” you whispered, your voice still laced with a needy edge that sent his jaw slack.
“what do you need, sweet girl? what do you want?” he hummed, pulling you away from his neck to look at him.
“need you to fuck me. anything. just need you.” you breathed, doe eyes meeting his darkened one. it was amazing, how he instantly had you at ease.
“yeah? you want me to fuck you? you need me inside of that dripping pussy?” he flipped you over as he spoke, guiding you up the bed until you were laying back against the pillows, comfortably underneath him.
“please.” you whined. your arms went around his shoulders, clawing at the material of his shirt. george made quick work of yours, tugging it over your head. his hands grazed your abdomen as he moved to unzip your skirt, that quickly followed your shirt as it dropped to the floor. his hand reached the band of your underwear, long fingers gripping the fabric to peel them off of you.
“fuck, sweetheart, what a mess.” george muttered, slowly bringing his hand between your legs to graze your clit with his thumb. your hips bucked, irritable whine leaving your lips.
“no, no, just want you.” you groaned, barely coherent. “now. come on george.” you demanded. he smirked down at you, at the way you’d suddenly switched up.
“then take me. i’m all yours.” his smirk never faltered, amused at your demanding tone, your hands flying to his shirt to tear it up and over his head. they travelled down his abdomen, smoothing over his taut skin before your fingers were skimming his sweats. you pushed them down his thighs, eyes fixated on the way his body rippled as he kicked them off, his underwear following. something about his words hit your square in the chest, a new type of warmth blossoming through your body.
you ran your hand over his cock, pumping the length a few times before you guided him inside of you, sighing in relief as he filled you up. he settled on top of you, brushing some stray hairs out of your face. george stayed there for a second, hovering over you, as if to let you adjust, but he was admiring you. the crease in your eyebrows, the way your eyelashes dusted the tops of your cheeks, the blush that had tinted your skin. you were a sight to behold and he couldn’t get enough.
“anything you want, however you want me, i’m yours.” he groaned, hips rocking against yours as he began to move, deep thrusts fucking you into the mattress.
george set a pace, intense, not too fast. over the months, he’d learned what you liked, learned what you both needed. he’d learned you. he knew when to fuck you that little bit faster, deeper, just right. you were ruined for anyone else and you couldn’t have been happier about it. you cried out as you felt yourself closing in on your orgasm, his cock driving into you hard as his fingers moved away from your fingertip-bruised hip to toy with your clit. teasing circles over the bud had you squeezing around him, coaxing him closer and closer to the edge too.
“it’s so good.” you bit out, eyes rolling back in your head as the knot tightened. “missed you.” you reminded him. you couldn’t let him forget that after the hell you’d put him through.
“not going anywhere, sweetheart.” his hips were losing any sense of rhythm, erratic thrusts making your eyes squeeze shut. everything felt lighter all of the sudden, as his fingers rubbed against your clit just right and you fell apart beneath him. you shattered into a million pieces, raking your nails down his back as you whimpered against his shoulder. he collapsed on top of you, his more than welcome weight grounding you in the moment.
you needed him to stay there, right where he was. you felt soothed, his warm, bare skin pressed against yours doing wonders to pull you out of the isolating headspace you’d found yourself lost in. kisses were being trailed all over your collarbone, your neck, your chest; tiny reminders that he was there and this was real and you were not dreaming. that he was not going anywhere.
ever so slowly, he’d pulled himself off of you, quiet murmurs of words that you couldn’t quite decipher as he stood from the bed. you watched him, trailing your eyes over this his lean frame as he moved slowly around the room. you felt like you were underwater, utterly exhausted in every sense of the word.
your eyes were drooping as you relaxed into the mattress, your ears pricking at the sound of water running in the distance and george’s footsteps somewhere across the room. it all hit you then, the entire weekend catching up with you and you realised that you hadn’t processed it all yet, as much as you tried to convince yourself it was over. now that your relationship was out there, resting in the palm of the media, exposed to thousands upon thousands of eyes, it would never be over. but as you saw george’s face come into focus above you, his calloused hands gently pulling you up off the mattress and into his arms, careful as he carried you towards the bathroom, you decided that you were okay with it.
you never wanted it to be over, this, you and him.
george lowered you down, your feet hitting the tiled floor. he held you against his chest until the ridiculously large bath was full, a light floral scent invading your senses, keeping you as alert as the sound of his heartbeat in your ear. he only stepped away from you to turn off the taps, checking the temperature of the water before he lowered himself into the tub. he held a hand out to you, settling into the water as you stepped in and sat yourself between his legs.
“come here, sweetheart.” george crooned, pulling you against him, your back to his chest. he brushed your hair over one of your shoulders, a couple of fleeting kisses pressed to your damp shoulder as you relaxed into him.
you allowed your eyes to flutter shut, inhaling deeply as the warm water washed over your aching body. you hadn’t realised how much you needed this until you were here, a combination of hot water and him being the perfect way to wash away the stress. your body truly did ache, frail against his long limbs behind you, and yet you were at peace. actual, genuine peace. he was made of magic, you were sure of it.
you knew, in that moment, the top of your head resting against his chin, one of his hands trailing across the soft skin of your belly and the other drawing meaningless shapes into your hip. you just knew. there wasn’t another person that evoked this kind of feeling in you. there wasn’t another person that kept you on your toes and made you feel safe and had you laughing and smiling and feeling in the way that he did. it seemed strange, truly, after everything. every jibe you’d made with a twinkle in your eyes, every time he’d touched you, every time you’d heard his laugh. it all brought you back to the same place. it all led you to him and the way he had completely consumed you.
“george?” you hummed, a barely noticeable quiver in your voice, that, of course, he noticed. you turned your head, able to see him in your peripheral vision.
“are you okay?” he asked instantly, his head tilting down, nose brushing yours. you nuzzled further into him, just about managing to make some eye contact with the angle.
“yeah.” you whispered, lips mere centimetres from his.
“what is it?” he hummed.
“i, i just,” you started, distracted by his tongue swiping over his lips. you were unable to help yourself, craning you neck a bit more to brush your lips over his. he laughed quietly and your loss of concentration.
“yeah?” george had that underlying tone of amusement in his voice, snapping you back to reality. you loved the sound of his voice when something was funny. that all encapsulating sense of happiness that dominated his tone. it spurred you on to finally tell him.
“i think i love you.” you whispered into the hot air, your words echoing off of the bathroom walls.
“really?” his voice was barely above a whisper. you couldn’t decipher the emotion shining through at first, because it wasn’t one you’d ever heard him display. he was nervous. wrapped around you in his bathtub, george russell was nervous. you’d caught him off guard and you were almost satisfied.
you hummed in response. there was nothing more to say.
you felt his arms tighten around you. his head dropped down, open-mouthed kisses trailing from your shoulder up the slope of your neck until his lips were right below your ear. you shivered, couldn’t help but, even in the warm water. and then you heard his voice, all shyness and insecurity banished, oozing confidence as he always did.
hi besties, i hope everyone’s doing ok! just wanted to let you know part seven is still coming - i’ve just not had much inspiration to write over the past week or so because of everything that’s been kicking off in silly season. the chapter is planned out though, so hopefully once i get going (fingers crossed later today/this week) i’ll be able to get it out reasonably quickly.
hope everyone’s doing okay despite EVERYTHING. love you all <333
Rating: M (18+)
Words: 9k
Characters: Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Part: One of Two (two will be posted in a few days)
Summary: You are determined to remain single forever, you have everything you need in life, why complicate things by letting a man in? This works out just fine for you until you meet Lewis, until you meet the one man that doesn't even have to really try to change your mind, will your relationship ever be more than just a situationship? 18+.
“We’re not going to be friends, Lewis.”
You read his gaze as he stood just a breath away from you, his stance wholly inappropriate for an athlete of which the company you were a director for sponsored, yet that didn’t seem to phase him one bit, nor did it phase you either.
“I can be whatever you need me to be, beautiful.”
Lewis didn’t realise how dangerous that open invitation was, not yet anyway. He was so used to being the one in control, so used to women throwing themselves at him, he never thought it possible that you might not also do the same, yet as you stood strong with unwavering eye contact, a confidence that matched his exactly, a glimmer of realisation that he might have met his match with you, glistened in his eyes.
The conversation had started post a corporate meeting in which Lewis was on your turf, in a meeting room in your building, you might have wavered a bit more had it been on his but alas it wasn’t, and so you were his toughest opponent yet.
He had lingered behind as everyone else packed up to leave for the evening, his pretence at being in depth with a text message conversation had worked on everyone but you, you knew as you packed away your things post presentation that he had something to say to you, you could feel the words lingering in the air as yet unsaid, the air thick with tension of what the next few minutes would hold.
Lewis was bold, confidence built from a lifetime of women falling at the first sign of attention from him, he didn’t pull any punches when the first thing he asked you was if you were available for dinner that night.
“I don’t do private dinners with clients, but thank you for the offer.”
It was that response, the rejection that he never anticipated, that made him rise from his seat and move closer to you, as if seeing him, smelling him, feeling his presence around you, might make you see differently, he clearly didn’t know you well enough yet.
“I’m not asking you to have dinner with a client, I am asking you to have dinner with a new friend.”
That’s where you said the line that would change everything, the line that simultaneously closed a door to his advances and opened a new avenue for him to enter your life, a way in which you wouldn’t realise it yet, but it would be the most impactful entrance anyone ever made. It would have been easier to call him a friend.
Of course Lewis had to have the last few words of the conversation, offering you the chance to have him labelled as whatever you needed, before he left the room so quickly all you could focus on was the rapid heartbeat he had left you with.
You had turned down advances of many men before him, so why did this one leave you with an adrenaline rush matched by little else in your life? You should have realised then the significance Lewis would have in your life, but instead you put it down to mere attraction, he was by far the most attractive man you had had the pleasure of being that close to.
-
It had worked, seeing him up close, his beautiful glowing skin not marked with any imperfections at all despite the harshness of his career choice, his eyes that sparkled in even the dullest of lights, with the scent that lingered in the air after he had long gone, had worked to make it so you had no choice but to see him a light you were so determined to never view a client in.
It had worked just enough so that when your phone screen flashed up with a number you had never seen before, you didn’t disregard it entirely nor did you leave it unread for hours, instead a little unspoken part of you hoped it was him; it was.
‘It’s a shame you said no to dinner tonight, I was looking forward to getting to know you a little better.’
He didn’t bother to sign off with his name, he was arrogant with the fact you would know it was him, what he wasn’t prepared for was your determination to not feed into the arrogance, if there was one thing you were good at, it was bringing a man's ego down a peg or two.
‘Sorry, who’s this?’
You would have given anything to see his face in that moment, you imagined it was a look of utter confusion, you knew it was him, he knew you knew it was him, yet you were choosing to play a game instead, and that was the one thing Lewis was unequipped for.
‘That many people ask you to dinner today? It’s your new friend.’
He was good, you had to give it to him. Despite the battle you insisted on playing with him, he still made you smile as you turned over on your bed all giggly, like you were suddenly seventeen again and texting your crush, before you caught yourself mid giggle and stone faced a reply, unwilling to admit you were enjoying his attention at anything more than the surface level.
‘Not today they haven’t, no. And I already told you, we’re not going to be friends, Lewis.’
There was a delay in his response, you wondered if it was because he was torn on how to respond, you imagined being on the back foot, being the one having to chase, was a completely new experience for him and you were certain that within this unknown territory he had no idea how to act. You would certainly be a lesson for him, that was for sure.
‘If you change your mind, I’ll be at The Twenty Two, room 897 until Monday…’
Lewis wasn’t going to back down, and with his hotel details firmly in your possession now, he made sure to leave you with a sight that he thought might just linger a little longer in your mind than any of his words did, the kind of sight that might just sway your decision on what you would do with the information he had provided you, one of his infamous selfies.
You stared at the picture for longer than you would ever admit to anyone, let alone him. Taken with the reflection of the large bathroom mirror in front of him, he stood with the sternest of looks on his face, his top missing to display some of the most impressive V Lines you had ever had the pleasure of seeing on a man, his towel held up with nothing but thoughts and prayers you imagined. The image made your mouth salivate just a little, but you fought back against the thoughts that were entirely intrusive to your wishes at the relationship between yourself and your client remaining as neutral as it could get.
‘Goodnight, Lewis.’
You were determined that what you were not going to do would be to stroke his ego, he didn’t need to know that as you lay in bed that night, attempting to sleep for far longer than it should have taken you, all you could think about was how it would feel to run your tongue across his abs and how each minute that passed by with him on your mind, you weakened just a little to the idea of succumbing to the now completely overwhelming desire for him.
-
Your job was full on, intense, it kept you busy almost every single day, yet the day you needed a distraction from your thoughts the most, a day in which you would have given anything to not have time to breathe let alone take a lunch break and gather your thoughts, you were quieter than you had been for months. Typical.
If it had just been thoughts, you probably could have simmered them down for a while, but free time mixed with those thoughts made it so you were overwhelmed with the urge to do something that could possibly be the worst thing you ever did, knowing it also had the potential to be the best, the temptation of that knowledge combined with the picture you had looked at more times than you would care to admit, made the possibility of a little visit to a hotel in the city that night all the more realistic, and more importantly, all the more tempting.
As you walked through the city streets, panini in one hand, your phone in the other, you studied his selfie as if you would be tested on any blemishes that appeared on his skin later that day. He was perfect, sculpted by the finest of craftsmen, a true delight to look at, even you couldn’t deny that as a fact, as much as you hoped to find an ick, there was just nothing about him that gave you one.
Not content with unsettling your mind enough with the inappropriate thoughts and the viewing of his picture, you decided what you wanted to play was the most dangerous game of all, the game of logistics. It was your last hope at rubbishing the idea you had of visiting him by working out how difficult the trip would be for you. God, you hoped it would be difficult.
Opening up Google Maps you input the hotel name followed by your address to find the distance; thirty minutes. Thirty minutes was not enough time to ensure you wouldn’t make a mistake, thirty minutes was not enough time for you to be filled with regret and turn back, what thirty minutes was enough time for was you to make it to him in the depths of the night, completely overcome with desire, needing something that only he could settle. Thirty minutes was dangerous, thirty minutes was really no time at all.
-
It wasn’t lost on you, the risk you were taking as you stood in the elevator on your way up to his floor. The risk had been the only thing holding you back all day, but you hadn’t got where you were in your career by being one who shied away from risk, and now that unique quality was being put to good use, well use, you weren't yet sure if it could be classed as good.
What if he had company already? What if you were spotted arriving at the hotel? What if he wasn’t even here? What if this does nothing to rid you of temptation but makes it so much worse?
There wasn’t an anxious thought that hadn’t crossed your mind as you watched the floors tick by on the screen until the ring signalled your stop, and ultimately the decision was made for you, you were here to sleep with your client, nothing or no one could excuse that fact.
“I knew you would come…”
Lewis chose to greet you with an air of confidence as he held the door open for you to walk inside, his outstretched arm creating a bridge for you to walk under.
You didn’t respond to his brag, instead you walked just slowly enough that he would have no choice but to watch the way your hips swayed with exaggeration, the material of your impossibly short dress hiking up a little more with each sway, you had chosen that dress for exactly that reason; two could play the game of temptation and you knew you possessed the power to win.
“So…this is a nice place.”
You laid your purse down on the table beside the sofa, making sure that the eye contact you held with him spotted any creeps of gaze down to the cleavage you had purposefully displayed for him; there were many, often.
“Did you come here to take a look at the interior design work of the hotel?”
His unbreakable confidence was noticeable, as he moved closer to you across the room, his casual dress of just a t- shirt and loose bottoms, became ever more appealing as they allowed for easy access to the body he had tempted you with in the first place.
“No. You know what I came here for…”
You felt the first taste of nerves as Lewis caught your waist with his hands, but as he stared you in the eyes, his musk lingering between you like a warm welcome, they quickly simmered with the urge to kiss the lips that were parted so perfectly, as if to allow you to.
“To have your mind blown by the best dick of your life?”
His smirk didn’t budge when your response was delayed, as if he already knew that for a fact, his arrogance allowed for your anticipation to bubble to the surface.
“I hope so.”
There was no more room for words as Lewis swept you into him, meeting your kiss with his tongue immediately, raw yet undeniable passion, both of your hands working to free the other's body of the clothes that restricted you as you shuffled to the bedroom.
There was no shyness, no embarrassment about being bare in front of the other for the first time, both of you accepted the moment. You laid back on the bed, your thighs dancing together to simmer the heat that poured from your core as you waited for the man that stood at the end of the bed just watching you, as he stroked what was undeniably the most delicious looking dick you had seen yet.
“It’s rude to leave a lady waiting, Lewis. Am I going to have to beg you?”
The mattress compressed with his weight as he was in no hurry whilst he joined you, his grip firmly on his dick as his lips found every inch of skin they could, working up your body until they met yours.
“Maybe I should rest here until you do?”
Your lips parted into a moan before he had even entered you, the feeling of him pressed up against your entrance was enough to make you react in shock, you could only wonder how he would feel inside of you.
“Maybe, just maybe, you should fuck me before I change my mind…unless you’re worried you might not have what it takes to live up to your talk?”
Lewis needed no more persuasion to bury himself inside of you, he showed you no mercy at all as he bottomed out in an instant. He let you whimper, he let you squirm, he delighted in watching just how shocked your face was by the sheer heaviness of him.
“If it’s too much for you, I can stop…”
His words were decorated with a smirk as he teased his tongue across the most sensitive parts of your throat, groaning softly as you could not help but tighten a little with excitement as he laid his weight against your spot.
You brought your hands up to cup his beard, forcing him to forget about your neck and focus now on your face. You resisted him kissing you, you didn’t allow him to, you needed his eyes locked into your gaze so he could feel every inch of your words.
“Fuck me, Lewis…give me what I came for.”
The moment the words left your lips you let his head fall to yours as he gave you everything you asked for and more.
The sex was the perfect mixture of rough and passionate, two people fucking like their sole aim was to ensure that there would be nothing but pleasure felt, that the mark left on the other would be unforgettable, and where Lewis thrust, you rocked back, making certain he knew that neither one of you had full control at any one time, just as you liked it.
Your orgasm almost set off his, as you lost all composure underneath his body, you heard the grunts as he strained to hold back, you felt the sloppy thrusts as he fought desperately against his own release as he stroked you through yours.
On the very last ripple of your pleasure he could hold back no more, dropping his forehead to yours, he fucked you so softly now, worried he might fire without warning.
“Are you…”
“Yes…but pull out, please.”
The groan he let out now was one filled with frustration, he thought it unimaginable that although you were on birth control, you did not want him to finish inside of you; you truly were the first woman for everything.
You watched him intently as he could only bear to fuck into you a few more times before he let his dick fall out between your folds, squirting reams of cum all over your bare skin as he groaned into the air all of the ways your body made him feel so good.
He fell to the space beside you on the bed, exhausted and panting, one hand on his chest, the other behind his head, there really wasn’t a hurry in the world about him right now.
“Where are you going?”
Lewis looked offended that you left the bed the first moment you could to wash off the gift he had so graciously given you.
“To clean up, I can’t go home with this on me.”
It wasn’t lost on you how comfortable you felt around him, it didn’t feel like the first time he had seen you naked, and as you stood in full view, every inch of you on display, it felt so completely normal that he should see you in this state, and you him.
“Home?”
There was disappointment in his voice now, like that was the last thing he wanted to hear, his face read it too.
“Yes Lewis, home. You can’t have thought I was going to spend the night with you, surely?”
“I was kinda hoping you would…”
“Why would I do that? This was just sex, I don’t need to spend the night with you for that.”
You knew your words hit him with a sting, perhaps given the chance to think it through more you might have worded them a little softer, but the message would have stayed the same. Under no circumstances did you want anything more than a physical relationship with him, you would never allow him to think otherwise.
-
“Will I see you again this weekend?”
Lewis looked and sounded like a lost puppy as he said goodbye to you at the door. He had insisted on walking you back to your car, you refused each and every offer, stating that you had found your way there just fine, you could find your way back too.
“If I have the urge I’ll know where to find you. See you tomorrow, Lewis.”
Your smile did nothing to lighten his mood, he looked so disappointed as you left, he looked like he felt used and although you would never show it, in the pit of your stomach you felt a twinge of guilt.
You didn’t want commitment, you needed him to know that, but you also didn’t want to hurt what seemed to be the kindest of men. Sleeping with him had made the situation entirely worse but you also were wise enough to know that as you walked through the hotel hallway, your legs still shaking an unbearable amount from the orgasm he had given you, it wouldn’t be the last time.
-
Some would say the dress you chose to wear to work that day was intentional, you knew Lewis would be at your office for a meeting, you knew you looked irresistible, and those people would be absolutely correct.
The dress was worn to ensure that if there was any chance at all that he might not still be consumed with thoughts of being inside of you the previous night, the moment he saw the way it teased just a little too much thigh, the way it clung to your curves, he would be flooded with memories, just as much as you were.
It was quite naive of you to think you would be the only one in that meeting vying for the attention of yesterday's lover, the moment you walked into the room and caught the eye of the man who consumed every and all thought from the moment you left him yesterday, you knew he too had chosen violence with his look today.
His clothing was more subtle than yours yet you knew that the low neckline was purposeful to make you remember how the chains he displayed felt as they tickled across your face, you knew that the jeans that normally would make any other man look like a dad in his late 50s were worn to make you focus on the insanely heavy bulge they displayed.
A bulge in jeans was quite the unicorn, the thick material would dampen most others pride, yet with Lewis it allowed his thickness to shine through for everyone to see, but most importantly, for you to see.
It was going to be a long meeting, for the both of you, and there was not a single thing you could do about it.
-
“You look so sexy when you’re in work mode…”
Lewis allowed his words to only form the pitch of a whisper as he crept up behind you at the vending machine whilst your meeting broke for a short break.
“Just in work mode?”
His breathy chuckle was definitely one you could get used to hearing, and feeling against the back of your neck.
“Always, but especially when you are talking about profits and figures when all I can think about is the way you moan when I’m inside of you.”
Your actions were completely intentional as you bent down to pick up your can from the bottom of the machine, making sure your ass hit him in the bulge he had placed in your personal space on your way back up.
“You should be careful standing this close to me, Lewis. People might talk about us…”
You left your words hanging in the small space between you as you walked away, teasing him was the biggest power trip, way more than anything your job provided you, and for now your contact would stay at a tease, it was safer that way.
-
‘You know, if you got out of your car and got into mine, I could have us back at the hotel in less than an hour…’
Lewis had left subtly inside of you last night, he no longer cared to make it anything but abundantly clear that he wanted you, and so as you read his message whilst he was parked just behind you, you looked in your rear view mirror to meet his gaze and smiled.
‘If you would have just signed the new contract then we wouldn’t have to both spend days of our lives in a meeting. Guess I’ll see you soon to carry on negotiations.’
It was kind of cruel the way you watched to see the frustration on his face just so you could feel a sense of achievement. It was no small feat having one of the world's most sought after bachelors at your disposal, ready to cave to your every need, yet it also wasn’t lost on you that you had known him to be nothing but lovely from the moment you met him, he was certainly one of a kind, you just couldn’t allow yourself to dwell on it too much for fear of wanting him for more than just the impeccable service he could provide.
‘You are so very stubborn. I know I will see you soon, you won’t be able to resist it.’
Your eyes met through your rear view mirror and he smirked at you, knowing full well that his message had hit a nerve, and it had, but even you were not so stubborn that you would pretend it wasn’t laced in some form of truth. Just how long could you resist him for?
-
Saturday came and went with very little to report. You busied yourself with housework, you even took the odd work call despite the fact you swore off work at the weekends, just to distract you from the temptation that was Lewis being so very obtainable at any moment you pleased.
To the outside world looking in at you, it seemed as if you were not bothered at all by him, like you meant every word of the casual relationship you insisted on sticking by with him, but you knew how different it was from the inside.
You knew that everytime you pretended to scroll through social media aimlessly, normally a welcome distraction from your hectic life, you were now looking for him. Whilst you had sworn off contact with him in the real world, online his trail was massive and every app you could possibly think of had a little piece of him. Much to both your pleasure and despair, there was no escaping Lewis, and so you didn’t, you bathed in him for the whole day and night.
It would have been easier for you had he not been so very good looking, it would have been a breeze had he not been fighting for the top spot for the best sex you had ever had in your life, and even after one round he was close to taking the prize already, but he was all of those things, and he was kind; it was the kindness that cemented him in a stronghold in your mind.
The last thing you did that night, as you looked for distractions from the temptation of going to him, was remember all the reasons why you had made the choice of remaining single and unattached to another person for the rest of you life, but even as you recited lines of independence in your mind, those kind eyes and that warm smile that he had shown you so effortlessly, flashed as reminders for your determination not always being as unwavering as you thought.
-
Sunday had started off immaculately, Lewis hadn’t been your first thought of the morning like he had been for days now, in fact he didn’t even cross your mind at all until you were rudely interrupted from your peace by a message flashing up on your screen.
‘Last day in the city, it would be a shame to not take advantage of it…x’
A kiss? Lewis was really pulling out all of the stops to convince you to visit him. None of it would work though, not even the video of him working out on Instagram that he posted to his story as soon as he sent the message.
What it did do though, what it was posted to do, was make it so regardless of what you were busying yourself with, you would know it could and it should be him, and it worked.
‘I have plans with friends, enjoy your last night in the city.’
You weren't lying, you did have plans with friends, plans you were very grateful for having as it meant as much as you wanted to, and you really wanted to, you couldn’t go to him as you were already committed.
-
The late afternoon drinks turned into dinner as the group couldn’t quite find a moment to leave, the conversation and the vibes were immaculate, until they weren’t of course.
“So are you seeing anyone nice?”
You had done so well to avoid questions on your love life so far that evening, distracting everyone with mundane stories of the many celebrities on your books, hoping you were feeding them enough scandal that they wouldn’t be concerned with anything more personal but that was silly of you really, those questions always arrived at some point once you spent just a little time with them.
“No, you know I do not want a relationship, I do well all by myself thank you, I do not need a man to complicate things.”
Your friend rolled her eyes as she listened, she had heard it all before countless times, had witnessed many failed relationships, many ghostings of both sides, all of the flings that had finished before they had ever really started and yet she knew there was someone, somehow she knew.
“I wasn’t asking if you’re getting married, I asked if you were seeing anyone, talking to anyone…I don’t know, sleeping with anyone?”
Yes. Yes you were, or at least you had done just the other night. You had slept with one of the most famous athletes in the world, but you were never going to admit that during a tipsy dinner with friends you only saw every so often, that would be both career and personal life suicide, you would never recover from it.
“No, no one. I’ve been really busy at work actually. Maybe I should get back out there at some point.”
That had done it, that was the line that convinced your friend that maybe her inclination of there being someone was wrong and so she spent the next hour or so explaining what various dating apps did and rating them on which one she would recommend for you personally, as you had so many specific requirements of a mate according to her.
You listened, well you sort of listened, but the more in depth she got with the pros and cons of each app, the more you drank and the more you thought about the man that was staying at a hotel less than a ten minute walk from where you were at this moment in time.
Why would you entertain a bunch of random nobodies on an app when you had someone who was quite literally perfection waiting for you?
-
It was wrong, it was so very wrong and you knew it, but as you walked through the hallway of the hotel floor his room was on, you had never been less remorseful for what you were about to do. Sometimes wrongs were exactly what a girl needs, and Lewis was the greatest wrong of your life so far.
It was only as you stood outside his door that you hesitated, you listened for a moment to hear if there was a sound from inside, but there wasn’t. Whilst what you were doing was wrong professionally, that wasn’t what made you hesitate, what made you hesitate was the massive risk you were taking by not warning him of your arrival, he could have company for all you knew and worst of all, he could have changed his mind.
The look on Lewis’ face as he opened the door to you was a picture, he went from looking half asleep to amazed at seeing you and then immediately he tried to act the cool guy as he tried to play down his excitement at finding you at his door.
“You realised how much of a waste it was to let my last night in the city pass by without joining me, huh?”
The comfortability of the both of you in close proximity to each other was something to be admired, there was no pretence of politeness as you stood feet apart in the room, instead the moment Lewis had closed the door behind you both he moved to standing just a breath away from you.
“I was in the area and I wondered if you had company…”
“There’s no one here babe, no one but you. Why?”
Lewis found your waist with his hands and all at once a cool shiver ran down your spine, you hadn’t realised how much you missed his touch until you felt it again.
“I just wanted to see if you had replaced me already.”
It was the alcohol that had made your thoughts escape so freely, yet you were still sober enough to stop them had you wanted to, deciding instead to allow a little stroke of his ego with your obvious want of him.
“I didn’t know you would be so bothered had I invited the next best thing over when you blew me off…”
“Not bothered, just intrigued. I would be interested to see who you settled on, maybe I'd find it amusing to see who my replacement was…”
Lewis pulled you into him more, brushing the tip of his nose over yours as he dared to taste your lips ever so slightly.
“You seem confident that I wouldn’t be able to replace you…”
“Oh, you could…but she would be nothing in comparison to me.”
-
Your tongue traced the letters tattooed behind his ear, ‘BLESSED’, and he truly was, in every way possible, but most importantly to you, he was blessed with a dick that was far superior to any man you had known before him.
As you had your thighs wrapped around his hips, riding him with the slowest of movements to ensure you really felt him inside of you, you wanted to thank all of the gods for creating a man built so perfectly to please you.
“Baby, I swear I could fuck you for hours if you would let me…”
Lewis’ words hit the base of your throat as he smothered it in kisses, his hands planted firmly on your ass as he feigned a semblance of control in a situation in which he really had none at all, something he would always struggle with.
“I think you’ll find that I am the one fucking you, Lewis.”
He let out a little growl as he lifted you up by your ass, throwing you down onto the bed before he climbed on top of you, towering over you now with the most pissed look on his face, his hands planted firmly beside your head, allowing you to tease him with your tongue on his bicep.
“Let’s see how confident you are now…”
Your eyelashes fluttered, your eyes rolling back into your head as he pushed your ankles back, holding them at the headboard with the tightest grip, just so he could hit you so deep you could feel him in your stomach.
“Fuck you’re so deep, Lewis...”
You fought desperately against how hard he was making it to watch him fuck you, the beads of sweat that danced down his chest stole your focus, as you occasionally dared to glance into his eyes, those deep brown pearls that told you just how overcome with desire he was in that moment, there was nothing Lewis could hide in his eyes as they revealed it all, and right now you saw just how lost he was in your pussy.
Your hands reached out to hold onto his arms, not to stop him, but to feel every single part of him that was possible in that moment as he drew out almost uncontrollable moans from your lips, pleasing you came so very easily to Lewis, it almost annoyed you.
“Who’s pussy is this?”
Silence was your response, it was the only one you could give. You wanted to scream out his name, he fucked you so well that it was only fair he claimed it, yet even in the intense ecstasy filled state, you knew better than to give him false hope, you knew better than to let him get carried away any more than he already was.
“I said…who’s pussy is this?”
Lewis wasn’t going to back down, he could feel your turmoil and he knew that he was making it harder for you to fight it with every stroke, he could feel you tighten with excitement as he growled the words at you. His second sentence came with a hand wrapped around your throat, the strain on his face evident as he fucked you hard, punishing you for every second you refused to let his name roll off your tongue.
“Good dick will never make me claim you, Lewis.”
He fell down to you with a growl in response to your words, his lips brushed over yours as he pounded you, his hands finding yours to lift them above your head, your fingers entwined in the most romantic gesture you had ever made, yet it didn’t matter, there was nothing he could do to make you slip up, and he knew it too.
“One day you will, baby…one day you will see that it is worth it…”
It amazed you how easy Lewis found it to move your body around in all the different positions, like you weighed nothing at all. He flipped you over onto your stomach, him on his knees behind you as he smacked the tip of his dick against your folds.
“Shit…you fuck me so good…”
Praise always made him giggle in any context, but praise whilst he was doing the only thing you ever let him do with you, was his favourite kind.
“Right there…right there…oh, please don’t stop…it feels so good…”
Your words were less of an instruction and more so to make him feel good. He was close, you were close, and his biggest battle yet was fighting off his undoing until he had heard you erupt with your own. He was a gentleman, always.
-
“So where are you off to tomorrow?”
There was something about Sunday, it might have been the alcohol you consumed, it could have just been the impending knowledge of Lewis being out of the country by the morning, but there was something about the meeting on Sunday that felt a little different, and so you didn’t rush off immediately, instead you allowed yourself the extra pleasure of being cradled on his chest as you spoke about nothing in particular.
“Back to Monaco for a few days, gotta get my required days in you know? And then onto Hungary for the race weekend.”
“That sounds busy…do you ever feel unsettled?”
“For the most part no, it’s all I’ve ever known really. Sometimes though…sometimes I do wish I could stay in one place longer than a week or two, but I suppose that will come when I settle down with the woman of my dreams…”
It was then that reality set in and you realised what you were doing and who you were doing it with. As you stood up to throw on your dress, Lewis looked at you with eyes that pined for you even though you were still present.
“I’m just going to go to the bathroom to freshen up, can you call me an Uber please?”
When you emerged from the bathroom around twenty minutes later you were shocked to find Lewis sat on the bed, fully dressed and with his car keys dangling in his hands.
“You’re not getting an Uber, I’m taking you home.”
There was something about the tone of his voice that you knew this was a battle you wouldn’t win today, a rare moment sure, but there would always be times Lewis had the power and this was one of them.
“You know you really don’t have to do this right? I can find my own way home.”
“I know. Come on, it’s a long way down to the garage.”
-
Lewis was a gentleman, he opened your door for you without even a second thought, before he climbed in beside you.
“Are you worried about me knowing your address? I’m hardly ever in the city babe, there’s not a lot I can do with it even when I know it.”
It was dark in the hotel’s underground car park, it wasn’t until the car was lit up by the streetlights that laced the roads you drove down, that you realised what the car was that Lewis was taking you home in.
“My grandpa had a car just the same as this when I was young, an Emerald Green shade…”
You ran your hand over the interior as you were flooded with so many happy memories. This wasn’t his car obviously, but it could have been him sitting beside you right now, both men equally as sweet.
“My other one is Emerald Green, the one I keep in Malibu. It’s a beautiful car, I keep one here to use and the other I keep in mint condition, it’s too beautiful to drive.”
Lewis looked at you and smiled, mutual ground was found in the least expected of all places, within a car you hadn’t seen since you were seven and with a man you were starting to grow more and more fond of by the hour.
“Here will do just fine, thank you.”
It was as you were undoing your seat belt that Lewis reached for your hand, stopping you with the gentlest of all holds.
“It’s been great this weekend, I’ve had fun.”
“It has, thank you.”
You leaned over first, you felt the least he deserved was to not have to fight for a goodbye kiss tonight, not when he was leaving in the morning and the next time he was scheduled for anything work related with you was in two month's time when you would be visiting a race as a sponsor.
“Safe flight Lewis, maybe I’ll see you soon.”
The second he felt you pull away from him, Lewis held your wrist, cupping your face and immediately making you feel small in his grasp as he kissed you greedily one last time.
“Don’t forget about me.”
You didn’t respond with anything but a smile, of course you wouldn’t forget him, he was your client after all. That wasn’t what Lewis meant, nor was it how you would remember him though, you had had two of the most incredible nights of your life with him, work hadn’t come into it once, you would never be able to forget him now.
-
‘I saw this and it reminded me of you x’
It had been just over three weeks since Lewis had left the city and your contact had been minimal. Your contact had, his hadn’t. He wouldn’t constantly message you but he would certainly make sure to remind you that he existed every now and then, as if you could possibly forget. Random check-ins to see how you were and the odd late night message that always went unanswered as you knew where exactly it would lead to and you were not willing to give up the last piece of sanity you had for what would amount to nothing more than sexting.
This one though, this message caught your attention a little longer than usual. It wasn’t the usual late night message that hinted at him missing you or even one where he made a vague reference to something sexual which immediately put you off. You were of the opinion that if you couldn’t have it for a while, and there was still six weeks until you were even in the same location, then you did not want to torture yourself further with temptation, the memories were bad enough.
This message was different, it was a piece of art work of a woman, a woman depicted alone yet strong, a woman surrounded by fire yet thriving, a woman who was very much like you in every way, from the style of her hair, down to the curve of her waist, but what made it feel so special, what made it feel like a moment that shifted the way that you viewed the man that was reaching out to you a little differently, was that he had also picked up on it, he had seen the artwork, he had seen the woman in all of her beautiful glory, and thought of you.
‘That is beautiful, thank you. Hope you are well, Lewis. X”
He could have read the message as an open invitation for conversation, but he didn’t, instead he read your message and accepted it for exactly how you meant it, a small yet significant token of affection, something you had not sent his way previously, he was learning how to deal with your inability to be affectionate towards him, he was learning what path to take to lessen the blows of the ice cool air that was your words against his skin as he navigated your world, and that’s what it was, your world, he was just trying to be apart of it, somehow.
-
It amused you endlessly that your hotel room number was forty four when you checked in, a part of you was tempted to ask if somehow Lewis had something to do with it, but you knew that would also have you looking insane, like a fan girl almost, so instead you took it as just a coincidence, you refused to think of it as anything but that. The alternative of it being fate was not something you were prepared to even give a second thought, but you didn’t have to, that thought hung back in the corner of your mind as intrusive as many of your other thoughts were too.
Two months, it had been over sixty days since you last saw him in person, but as you noticed him stood holding court in the Mercedes garage you were entering, you felt a tug in the pit of your stomach, immediately deciding it was some new form of horniness rather than the dreaded thought of it being any kind of emotional attachment. Your tongue grazed your bottom lip as you took him in from head to toe, he was quite breathtaking to look at, the time apart had almost made you forget that.
“Budapest looks good on you, babe.”
Lewis whispered words into your ear as he slid up beside you, his hand danced around the small of your back for just a little too long to be friendly, but not long enough to satisfy your need to be held by him.
“This look is the look of a woman who has come to convince you to sign a damn contract you have been avoiding for months now. I wouldn’t even have to have travelled all this way had you just signed it two months ago.”
You held his gaze for a moment, drifting down to his lips before you caught yourself making your needs obvious and rose them back up to his eyes once again.
“Maybe that was the plan, maybe I knew I had to give you a reason to see me again.”
If anyone was to really look at the both of you right now it would be obvious by just how close you stood that there was nothing professional about your conversation, if anyone was to step a little closer to you they would be able to feel the tension that hung in the air between you both, the tension built off of a thousand words unspoken and the intensity you both felt to rip each others clothes off right then and there.
“Maybe you already have…”
Your eyes drew down his body until they settled on the part of him that was all you had thought about on your flight over here, you had tried distracting yourself with a novel, a smutty novel, but fiction paled in comparison to the man that stood in front of you, so instead you let your memory bank take over and relay the images of him between your thighs.
“Let me take you to dinner tonight, we can talk about contracts and all that boring stuff, and then maybe I can work on making up for lost time a little later?”
No matter how hard you tried to fight it, your eyes fell to his lips constantly as he spoke, they looked softer, moisturised, the glistening across them straight after he licked them tempted you to make your desires known to the world by kissing him, but you fought against it, just.
“If you sign the contract at dinner we can negotiate what you have for dessert tonight…”
The smirk that crossed his lips was beautiful, it read excitement but it also told of all of the ways he was thinking about eating you out in an instant.
“Blackmail is not usually my game but…when the reward is as tasty as you are, I will sign anything you put in front of me.”
“Be careful, Lewis. You have no idea what I have in store for you…”
His eyes glanced you up and down at a pace that was unafraid of getting his lustful thoughts read by you, or anyone else in the room.
“If it involves you I am never going to be careful. I’ll pick you up from your room later tonight…room forty four, isn’t it?”
The smile on his face answered your earlier question, it wasn’t a coincidence and it certainly wasn’t fate, it was Lewis who ensured that even in a time when he couldn’t get to you, he would still be present in your mind somehow. Little did he know, he had already done that the first night you spent with him.
-
The conversations that flowed through the busy restaurant created a constant hum not unlike the music it attempted to drown out in the background. Cutlery clashed with plates as people ate, glasses became echo chambers for laughter, yet all you could focus on was the man in front of you. He dressed so well, but he seemed to add an extra layer of spice when he was meeting with you.
“So, are you going to just keep the contract in front of you all dinner or will you finally sign it and put me out of my misery?”
Lewis used his glass of wine as a shield to hide behind as he gathered his thoughts into a sentence that expressed what he wanted to say without actually saying it.
“You know, if I sign this contract, it automatically starts a countdown, don't you?”
“A countdown for what?”
“For the last time I see you. My signature on this piece of paper is worth so much more than the millions it will generate for us both, it signifies you having no need to fly around the world to me anymore, it signifies no official need for contact, all that will be left is…just sex.”
It was your turn to hide behind your glass, it was your turn to leave a statement hung in the air as you thought best on how to respond to a statement so full yet empty of the weight that made it up in its entirety. You knew there was so much more he wasn’t saying, and for that you were thankful.
“That’s what this is, Lewis…just sex. And for what it is worth…”
You still kept your lips shielded by the rim of the glass but your eyes did the revealing anyway, holding his gaze for a moment before they dropped to his lips and back up to his eyes.
“The sex is worth travelling the world for.”
Whilst you had given Lewis an olive branch, a slither of hope that him signing the contract might not trigger a countdown, you could tell by the way in which his conversation felt empty for the rest of dinner and also by the way in which he made sure to kiss every single of inch of your skin back in his hotel room, that he didn’t quite believe it yet.
There wasn’t a part of you he wanted untouched by him, he wanted every single part of you to know what he felt like, and he wanted to taste every part of you too. As much as you insisted this was not nearly the end, he knew, he always knew that what you had was temporary, and now he had to make the most of you whilst he still could.
-
You had never really had an interest in Formula One, you understood nothing of the rules really, but one thing you did know just by the reactions of the garage and of Lewis himself on the radio, P2 in the race was a big deal and so should be treated as such, that’s why when the day was wrapping up and your colleagues were leaving, you thought you would hang back and pay him a visit, the idea of helping him celebrate his good result was all too tempting, and devouring him in such a public place was too good of an opportunity to miss.
It was amusingly difficult to walk into a place both with confidence and with the desire to not be spotted by anyone at all, yet somehow you had mastered it to perfection as you walked into the Mercedes garage once the sky had darkened and you were almost certain that no one else would be lingering around; they weren’t.
There were so many unexpected doors down the tiny hallway, none of them labelled of course, insisting you find Lewis’ room on instinct until you heard his laugh, the laugh you could spot as his in any place in the world, coming from the door just next to where you stood.
He had company clearly and for a moment you paused, would it be rude to intrude on a moment of celebration? Maybe. Would his company think anything of your uninvited and unexpected visit? Probably. Did you care when all you could think about was all of the ways you could celebrate in his room as soon as the company left? No.
You should have cared, you should have been more cautious, in the weeks after Hungary you would pit your throwing caution to the wind so uncharacteristically to the fact you were in a foreign space, but it would be too late then, it was too late the moment your hand wrapped around the door handle, your carelessness also made it so you didn’t think to knock.
“Oh…erm…sorry?”
You stuttered the words, frozen still in the entrance of the room, you stared at the scene that had paused itself in front of you, thankfully; you wouldn’t be able to bear seeing anymore than you had done.
“Shit…it’s not…no…”
Lewis let go of the woman’s hand he was holding as he looked at you with the widest eyes you had ever seen him wear. You didn’t wait around to hear much more of what he had to say, instead you gave him a smile that was the fakest you had ever mustered up, before you shut the door behind you and crucially, you shut the door to Lewis. The countdown clock had hit zero, time had run out.
