Summary: The one where Lewis returns home to you – the one thing he desperately wants, but won't let himself have completely.
Pairing: lewis hamilton x fwb!reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: angst, feelings, friends with benefits relationship, smut!, slight choking, unprotected sex (wrap your willy, don’t be silly!), slight manhandling?, pwp, minors dni!!
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! my boyfriend forced me to watch hellraiser the other day, and there was this one scene that i could just not thinking about so i wanted to write something inspired by it, and who better to write it about than sir lewis hamilton?? also, i reaaaallly wanted to write a friends with benefits thing and it was so much fun, i honestly wasn’t expecting. the title of this fic is actually a john legend song that i love and i think it fits the vibes for this fic, so please feel free to give it a listen if you're interested! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.
It’s a shame Lewis doesn’t spend more time in his Monte Carlo penthouse during the season because it’s a space he enjoys spending time in so much. He doesn’t mind being alone in his home – if anything, it’s refreshing after spending so much time being the focal point of so many cameras during the season. Also, technically, he is not alone he supposes; he has Roscoe to keep him company when he’s home, after all.
Coming home from a successful season is rewarding, he feels as if he’s deserved the rest he looks forward to. On the other hand, coming home from a not-so-successful season? Well he feels like shit – both mentally and physically. That is not to say that he doesn’t appreciate the time off, though, he is more than happy to not drive for weeks and just enjoy the winter break. Coming home is also always kind of bittersweet. He catches up with some of his friends he didn’t have time for during the season, his family who always support him through thick and thin, but most importantly he tries to make time for you and your… well, arrangement.
He knows something is wrong the minute you reply to his text about him being home. A simple okay is not a response he is used to getting from you. Alas, he shakes off the unease and chalks it up to a hectic day on your end. The pitter patter of Roscoe’s paws on the hardwood floors is enough to distract him from the situation, given the fact that the puppy is impatient for his dinner and is looking at the driver with pleading eyes.
“Okay ‘Coe,” he mumbles as he motions the kitchen with his head, “let’s go.”
The way Roscoe wobbles towards the kitchen brings a small smile to Lewis’ face even though he is still hung up on your answer. After he’s done feeding the puppy, he decides to grab a quick shower to ease the tiredness that comes from a long travel day. The hot water cascading down from the rainfall shower does a good job of taking care of his sore muscles, and he is more than happy to stay under the warm water if it means the soreness will go away. That is until he hears banging coming from his front door. He has every intention of just ignoring the person on the other side of the door; however, as the knocks get more and more persistent, he gets out of the shower with a groan. Wrapping a towel around his hips, he marches towards the front door, and looks through the peephole only to end up opening the door quicker than he would’ve liked.
His voice is confused as he mumbles out, “Lovey?” But you just straighten up from your position of leaning against the wall and throw your bag on the floor as you push your way through his apartment and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches as you attempt to hide yourself in the crook of his neck, and he is not sure what he’s supposed to do with his hands for a moment. “Hey,” he calls out softly, “what’s wrong?”
You pull back slightly to look into his worried eyes, “Just kiss me.” Your voice comes out somewhere between a whisper and a sob, and you can see the hesitation in Lewis’ eyes, but you just pull him towards you as you press a soft kiss on his lips, “Please.”
“What happened?” He tries once again to get an answer from you, but you shut down his attempt as you press your lips against his once more, more assertive this time. And who is he to deny you your wishes? So, like the perfect gentleman he is, he reciprocates your kiss with a one of his own as he wraps his arms around you to signal you to jump. Thankfully, you are so tuned with each other that you end up jumping up anyway, and he picks you up as you wrap your legs around his hips. Closing the door, he starts walking back towards his bedroom as your lips start moving more frantically against his own. “Slow down,” he warns, pulling back to give both of you a chance to breathe, “we have all night.”
Whining at the loss of contact from his lips, and you let your dissatisfaction known by attempting to roll your hips against his bare stomach, “Don’t wanna.” There’s still a lingering sob in your voice, but it is more reflective of the neediness you feel now that you have him between your arms – and legs. Lewis lets his hands roam down towards your ass to give you a warning squeeze – a one, maybe you would’ve been threatened by it if you weren’t so lost in him at the moment. You try your best to ignore the look he gives you, one filled with sternness; so instead, you move your lips downwards towards Lewis’ neck with another roll of your hips. “I missed you.”
He stills the movement of your hips as he simultaneously releases an appreciative groan at the way your lips feel on his skin. “I missed you too, lovey.” He is careful as he approaches his bed and sits down on the plush mattress with you still in his arms. Wrapping a hand around your hair to tilt your head back so he can look into your eyes again, he attempts to keep himself from becoming hard from the mere prospect of you wrapping your body around his. His eyes search yours for answers as to your sour mood, “Tell me what’s wrong, bad day?”
“Try bad month,” you scoff, letting your hands slide over his, somehow, still damp torso. “You weren’t here,” you explain as you free yourself from his hold on your hair and take off your sweatshirt, “don’t wan’ to talk about it.”
“Well, I’m here now.” A sudden realisation that you are not wearing anything under your top comes to Lewis, and he has to mentally restrain himself from doing something rash. “Not wearing a bra?” He asks, one of his eyebrows raised.
You let out a confirming hum, “Not wearing any underwear either.” Giving him an innocent smile at the groan he gets out, you shrug your shoulders nonchalantly, “Thought they’d get in the way.” His hands feel warm on your bare skin as he drags them up on your body to gently cup your exposed breasts, causing you to brace yourself by hanging onto his shoulder for support. Whining as you feel his thumb make contact with your sensitive nipple, you decide to pull him in for another kiss, mumbling a breathy, “Kiss me,” against his lips.
He obliges your request, of course, but he doesn’t let you control the kiss like you would’ve liked to. Instead, he stops the kiss by gently biting down on your lip before you can deepen it. With a small pat to your hip, he mumbles, “Get up, let me see you.” The look he gives you is just so full of adoration that you have no other choice to get up from his lap with the slowest moves you can muster. His eyes never leave you when you take a step back so that he can see you, all of you, and with the small nod he gives you, you begin taking off your leggings and shoes. That’s the thing about Lewis – for someone who is in the spotlight most of their time, he loves watching. And it is not only limited to the bedroom, you realise, he watches you even when you are doing mundane things together, like grocery shopping or walking Roscoe, domestic things that couples do together. But you can’t think about that, no, because both of you agreed that this was only physical and nothing more. Shaking the thoughts away, you straighten up from your bent position only to find Lewis looking you with a much darker look in his eyes. He’s dangerous, when he looks like that, you realise, he could break you into pieces with just his words, and the worst part is that you’d absolutely let him. “Pretty girl,” he whispers into the distance between you, and you take the hand he extends towards you for him to pull you against himself. The feeling of his lips on your skin almost feel feverish, and you find yourself releasing a gasp. “You’re the prettiest girl ever, lovey.”
“Lewis,” you brokenly whisper, your voice would be bordering on whiny with all the neediness that comes with it, “please, I need you.” The pleading look you give him is vulnerable, if not desperate.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips leaving another open-mouthed kiss, this time closer to your lower belly. His voice does a good job of soothing your erratic mind, his arms envelope you as he promises, “Whatever it is I’m here now, tell me what you want.”
He does a good job of putting you on the spot, you think, but unlike your usual self, you don’t have the patience for teasing tonight. “I want you to fuck me,” your voice comes off stronger than before, but it wavers as you also add, “please.” The last word brings a small smirk to Lewis’ face, and you let out a shriek as he quickly throws you onto the bed. “You almost scared me to death,” you complain, pushing out your lower lip in a pout.
“You’ll be fine,” he lets out a breathy laugh while quickly getting rid of the towel still, miraculously, hanging on his hips. The smirk on his face grows as he watches you shamelessly checking him out, but he never breaks his gaze from yours when your eyes meet as he wraps a hand around his cock to jerk himself for a few times. You spread your legs to accommodate his body as he leans over your lying figure by using his free arm as support. Rubbing the tip of his cock through your slick slit a few times, you can feel his breathy chuckle hit your skin while his lips run over your jaw to leave small kisses. “You’re so wet for me,” he mumbles, and the whimper that leaves your lips when he makes a point to rub his tip over your clit wins another chuckle, “you’re gonna be good for me?”
“Uh-huh,” you mumble as you nod frantically, “yes Lu, I’m gonna be good, I promise. Please, just fuck me.” You try to tempt him by wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him closer – either you are successful and he gives in, or he is just as desperate to get inside you as you are desperate to feeling him because he complies with your movements as he nudges the tip of his cock into you in a slow push forward. The stretch is burning every single time, and usually he gives you enough time to accommodate his size before proceeding to fuck your brains out. But this time, he doesn’t waste any time as he pushes himself fully into you until he’s buried inside you to the hilt. The gasp you begin to let out turns into a silent scream as the feeling of being full consumes you, “Fuck, Lewis–”
“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothes you through the initial pain, “you’re alright, just breathe th for a bit.” And you do what he tells you to because… well, you know he won’t do anything to hurt you. He brings his free hand towards your face to cup your cheek, which you respond by turning your head towards the warmness. “Tell me when the pain goes away,” he whispers against your skin – he finds he absolutely loves the way your skin flushes every single time he fucks you, and the thought makes him freeze for a second. Love? That is not something he should be thinking about, not especially when he’s buried inside you, because you both agreed–
Deciding to respond wordlessly, you press a soft kiss in the middle of Lewis’ palm, whilst also attempting to roll your hips, but then whining because of the additional pressure, “Please, Lewis, please move.”
That must’ve done the job of breaking Lewis out of whatever trance he was in, because once he hears your whiny voice pleading him to move, he starts thrusting his hip in and out of you in a rhythm that simply leaves you breathless in mere seconds. It’s the stress of the season, you think to yourself, but Lewis’ movements just get faster and deeper until he hits that one spot inside you that makes your whines turn into a scream and has you arching into him. You can’t see his reaction with your eyes fluttered close, but he stills his movements for a few moments as he looks at you as if you’re the most precious thing in his life. He waits until your erratic breathing to get back to normal before he starts rolling his hips against yours again, but this time the tempo he adopts is much slower, sensual, and almost… too intimate for it to only be considered physical between the two of you.
Your eyes flutter open as you look at him with confusion, “Wha– What are you–?” But he only cuts you off by pressing his lips against you to swallow your question in a kiss. The slower tempo is surprisingly more pleasurable then his usual style that you’ve dubbed fast and furious, and every time his hips roll at a certain angle, he brushes your clit in a way that makes your feet curl in pleasure.
He is breathless when he pulls away from the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, but then again, so are you. The way he seems to gaze into your eyes make your breath hitch, and if you thought that was Lewis showing his emotions, he decides to put them into words. “So good for me, lovey,” he moans, yes moans because one thing you’ve learned from the start is that real men moan, “you were made for me, weren’t you?” His accent gets thicker, which is a tell that he’s getting there, but he won’t let himself come before he makes sure you’re taken care of. “Look at how you’re taking me, reckon I can feel myself if I place my hand on your belly?” It makes him laugh when you whine as you attempt to slither your hand towards your stomach to test his theory, but one deep stroke of his hips and your arms envelope them around his shoulders to use him as a support. “Perfect, you’re just perfect for me, hm? My perfect, pretty, little girl.”
“Please,” you whimper out, the tears that form in the corner of your eyes threatening to fall, “I’m so close.” It’s been such an emotional day, and a shitty month that all you wanted was to be consumed by him – and now that you have him in your arms, acting like you are more than just two friends who use each other for something so trivial and human as urges, you don’t want to let him go. Especially not when he makes you feel like you could love him for the rest of your life. Even if just the thought of it is enough to make your heart race. Needless to say, the sob you let out is unexpected on both of your ends, and you know he’s about to stop when he slows down even more, but you give him a stern look through your tears, “Don’t you dare stop.” You moan, loud enough for his neighbours downstairs to hear, once he picks up the pace again, but it’s still slow enough for it to be considered love making and not fucking by both of your standards.
He knows you’re close when your walls start clenching around him, which makes it much harder for him to compose himself. So, being the perfect gentleman he is, he starts rubbing your clit with one of his hands, his fingers work hard to bring you even more pleasure. He watches in amazement as you trash around under his body and as your whimpers and moans get louder gradually – until you are coming undone around him, starting to sob because of the pressure gets released in your tummy, that is. His hips still continue their languid movements, just like the faster movement of his fingers, as he fucks you through your release, mumbling sweet nothings and encouragements into your ear. Lewis does his best to kiss the tears that escape from your eyes, his breath fanning over your feverish skin.
“So good,” your moans get softer as you get calmer after a while, though your voice is still scratchy, “wanna feel you more, Lu.” Sliding your hand between your bodies to take his hand away from your clit, the loss of his touch makes you whine softly and he watches you in confusion while still continuing his movements slowly, but you see the way his eyes light up with a dark look when you wrap his fingers around your throat, and thankfully he understands the message as he tightens his hold just the way you like it. “Yeah, just like that,” you moan, encouraging him to pick up the pace. This time, it’s your turn to whisper praises riddled with encouragement, and you know it gets to him, because every single stroke his hips deliver end up making him fill you more and more, as if that was possible. The sobs coming from your lips transform into ones of pleasure, bringing Lewis closer and closer to his release.
“Look at me,” his voice is sharp, and it makes you immediately fix your eyes on his. There is an immense sense of wanting to please him, or rather make him proud within you, and he rewards you with a burning kiss that leaves you panting and wanting more as he spills himself into you. As he pulls away to moan out your name, his thumb dragging down your bottom lip. You gently bite down on his thumb while you manage to get out a satisfied moan, eyes closing ever so slightly as you feel him spill into you, and he keeps pulling you even closer to himself when he lets his body fall next to yours.
You have no idea how he manages to still stay inside you, but you can feel his lips pressing gentle kisses across your hairline, and brushing away the sweaty strands. “You feel better now, lovey?” Smiling at the tiredness dripping from his voice, you hum airily, a satisfied smile on your face while you move your neck to look at him. “Good,” his whisper brushes your lips as he nudges the tip of your nose with his, earning a giggle from you while he wipes away the dry tears on your cheeks.
“Do you have to leave?” There is a whiny undertone to your question, and it makes him give you a gentle smile.
“Not for a while,” he assures you, then he presses his lips softly on yours in a small kiss, “I promise.”
He grabs your hand to weave his fingers through yours, pressing gentle kisses to your knuckles as he keeps silent for a moment – because he knows at that moment, just because you asked, he’ll cancel every single plan he’s made, just to spend more time with you so that he can make you smile like that. “Until you get sick of me, that is.” Your tired laughter fills his ears until it is interrupted by a yawn. He carefully moves you so that he gently takes himself out of you, and rolls you sideways so he can wrap his arms around as he pulls you close to cuddle. “Go to sleep, lovey, we’ll talk in the morning,” he mumbles as he presses soft kisses to your bare shoulder. You close your eyes with a smile on your face, burying yourself into his chest as much as you can, and hear him mumble, “My lovey,” before promptly falling asleep.
You pretend you didn’t hear him in the morning because the arrangement the two of you made was about keeping things causal.
But you respond by squeezing his hand three times in return anyway.
"karma is the guy on the screen coming straight home to me"
summary: seeing her toxic ex was never fun, but maybe it was less fun for him when he realized she was currently dating the GP winner on the screen, who happened to be his favourite driver
warning: overall fluff between the main characters, platonic!reader x valtteri bottas, mentions of a toxic ex-boyfriend, mentions of ex-boyfriend cheating, slut-shaming, swearing, alcohol consumption, reader is a little toxic to her ex (but he deserves it lol)
pairing: lewis hamilton x reader
word count: 3.6k
note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past.
it has been a really hard week for me with work, but I really hope you enjoy this surprise either way!
masterlist
You're talking shit for the hell of it
Addicted to betrayal, but you're relevant
You're terrified to look down
'Cause if you dare, you'll see the glare
Of everyone you burned just to get there
It's coming back around
Paddock life was equally as exciting and terrifying for Y/N.
Even after becoming a usual guest during race weekends during the last few months, the young woman couldn’t help but feel a little nervousness in her stomach every time she walked on the circuit, still not used to all the attention and eyes on her.
Since the first time Lewis decided to enter the paddock holding hands with a mystery woman, everything in her life had turned chaotic to say the least. Every single person in there was shaken to the core, especially because he wasn’t exactly known to be so public with his dating life through the last years of his career. So naturally, curiosity spread through the air like a disease.
Not that it mattered to Y/N, all of that amounted to nothing when she remembered the real reason for her presence there: supporting her amazingly talented boyfriend. Lewis had been her best friend, her lover, and her biggest supporter since the day they met. She tried as much as she could to be the same for him, knowing how much her being there meant to him.
And to be completely honest, she had a hunch on how much it pushed him to do better. Even if subconsciously, the driver always had his best performances in his car when he knew he had his girlfriend to impress, no matter how many times she told him he was the best regardless of his race results.
Despite all of that, of course developing a handful of friendships with some of the drivers, as well as their partners, gave her a significant sense of comfort there, knowing she had someone who she could rely on if needed. And the perfect example of that was the quick and playful bond she formed with her favourite Finnish driver, while he was still her boyfriend’s teammate at Mercedes.
“Well, well, well. Look at that. Miss Y/N L/N herself, in the flesh!” Valtteri said as he approached her, with his typical sweet grin on his face. The woman felt her body instantly relax at the sight of her good friend, the stress now forgotten on the back of her head.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my second favourite driver on the grid.” She laughed, giving him a swift side hug, as they proceeded their walks.
“Only second?” The blonde driver asked, hand on his chest. “Lewis is not even here, Y/N. You don’t have to lie, you know.”
Their conversation continued for a few minutes, as they now walked side by side, arms linked in a friendly manner. Him asking her how her Sunday was going, and her asking him about his unlucky DNF during the race that ended just minutes before.
As they reached the Alfa Romeo’s motorhome, in true big brother and little sister fashion, Valtteri kissed her on her cheek and messed her hair up a little, winning a shove from the girl as she tried to fix herself.
“Wow. You’re a groupie now? Never knew you could stoop so low.”
And I keep my side of the street clean
You wouldn't know what I mean
Ugh, not that irritating voice.
Not him. Not in here. Not now.
She could feel her eyes betray her, as they couldn’t hide her shock and disgust when they landed on the big figure behind her. Of all people she could come across on the paddock, her lying cheating ex-boyfriend would be the one. Just my luck, she thought to herself.
“Oh fuck off, Jason.” She spat out, angry. After all, why would she even give that piece of trash the time of day? She tried to turn around and make her way back to the podium that was about to start any minute now but was stopped by a hand that tugged at her arm.
Unable to flee, Y/N was forced again to look into the face of the man she hoped never to see again. But you know what, she kept her calm. She had learned a lot from all those years and all those tears.
Especially that what goes around always comes around.
"So you're whoring around now for paddock passes?" He laughed in her face, for the thousandth time in his life. Jason had always made a point of trying to bring down the girl's self-esteem, so Y/N wasn't expecting anything different from him this time around.
As she prepared to answer him back, already tired and furious by the whole situation, the hairs on her neck stood up as she heard a recognizable click. Y/N's head followed the sound until she spotted the (unfortunately) familiar figure of a photographer, automatically panicking. She knew this man was known for having no boundaries and no respect for people's privacy. She could already imagine the descriptions given to these photographs out of context.
"AFFAIR? Lewis Hamilton's girlfriend seen in an altercation with a mystery man"
"Y/N L/N caught reuniting with ex while missing the 7-time World Champion's podium"
Can this get any worse, she thought.
"He must be confusing you with someone actually relevant. Why the hell would anyone want pictures of you?" Jason burst into laughter, shaking his head. "Damn Y/N, you must have been working well around here if you've reached that level of fame. How many drivers did you sleep with?"
It definitely can, she shook her head to herself.
'Cause karma is my boyfriend
Karma is a god
Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend
Karma's a relaxing thought
Aren't you envious that for you it's not?
Sweet like honey, karma is a cat
Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me
Flexing like a goddamn acrobat
Me and karma vibe like that
Karma's gonna track you down, karma's gonna track you down, karma's gonna track you down, the young woman repeated in her head like a prayer, trying to maintain her posture.
Although all she wanted was to ruin that clown's face right then and there, she knew that not only her image but her boyfriend's reputation were dependent on how she was going to handle this confrontation.
"This was a lot of fun and all, and I'm glad you enjoyed yourself with all the shit that comes out of your mouth, but I really have to go." She said so that only he could hear, not caring if she was being rude, and with her eyes studying what the photographer was doing from time to time. "My boyfriend is waiting for me and I have nothing to tell you. Goodbye, have a nice trip to hell."
"Boyfriend? Sure. Where is he then?" He continued to mock her, pretending to look around in search of someone. "I've heard better lies. But tell me then, where is that "boyfriend" of yours." He spoke, quoting on air when the word "boyfriend" was mentioned.
Oh.
You're going to wish you never asked that.
Spiderboy, king of thieves
Weave your little webs of opacity
My pennies made your crown
Trick me once, trick me twice
Don't you know that cash ain't the only price?
It's coming back around
"Y/N, I know we came on this vacation to unwind a bit, but you have to take it easy on alcohol." Her best friend said, trying to take the glass from her hand.
"Oh don't be a jerk, I deserve at least a good drink after all." She pulled the glass back to her mouth, spilling part of her expensive mojito on the floor.
"Yes, one, maybe even two. Not four in the space of two hours." Emma criticized. "I know you're having a hard time, I really do. But you can't go on like this. It's not healthy."
The young woman knew it was not healthy behaviour. But after discovering her boyfriend of 2 years, fooling around in their bed, in their apartment, with his co-worker, she felt she deserved a good time.
Apparently, it wasn't enough to endure that awful relationship in silence: the dishonesty, the jealousy, the lack of support, the control over her life, and the constant disrespect. Having to come face to face with the man she shared her life with all that time with another woman? Karma tricked her once or twice, but not at this level.
"We're in fucking Monaco, babe." She walked around the middle of the casino, eventually losing her friend, arms stretched. "Let's have some fucking fun-"
Before she could finish her sentence, her back hit someone behind her. Drinks flew and her dress was now all soaked, as was the man's blue suit. Y/N heard some curse words coming out of the guy's mouth, along with an irresistible British accent.
Although the situation was not the most appropriate, she couldn't help but feel heat spread through her body at the sound of that attractive voice.
She turned, prepared to flirt with the stranger until she recognized him as soon as she saw his face directly.
"You of all people." She said, tipsy enough to no longer have a filter.
"Me?"
And I keep my side of the street clean
You wouldn't know what I mean
"Yeah, you!" She pointed to him, touching his chest.
The man couldn't be more confused. Had they met before? Was she a fan of a rival team to Mercedes? Did he win a championship against the girl's favourite driver?
His life was Formula 1. He devoted all his time, all his energy, all his life to the sport. Therefore, the only justifications that came to mind at that moment were those.
"Do I know you?" His nose and forehead scrunched up in a puzzled expression.
"You don't know me." Y/N declared, crossing her arms in front of her figure. "But I know damn well who you are, Lewis Hamilton."
The way she said his name with disdain made the brit uncomfortable. So she knew who he is after all. Leaving Lewis speechless was something people rarely managed to do and at that moment he didn't know if it was motivated by the young woman's boldness or her beauty.
God, she was amazing. Okay, maybe she wasn't necessarily the biggest fan of him. Or at all really. But he couldn't help but admire her from head to toe.
Her eyes revealed her state, showing that the girl was definitely a bit tipsy, but the way they sparkled, their intense colour, was the detail that impressed him the most. How her long, curly hair perfectly adorned the front of her short black dress. The way her crossed arms highlighted her cleavage-
"Hey!" She caught his attention, waving a hand in front of her own face. "Eyes are up here, buddy! Don't think that because you're a winner or a champion or whatever your fans call you that you can look wherever you want and no one will tell you anything!"
Not a Formula 1 fan but she knew who he was. Out of the ordinary but noted.
"Ugh, you men are all the same!" She complained aloud. "No wonder that loser Jason is your biggest supporter."
"Sorry miss, but now you've lost me." He confessed, even more lost than before. "Who the fuck is Jason?" He chuckled.
"An absolute cheating, lying and disgusting clown, that's what he is." She replied as she sat down on a red sofa that was in the middle of the golden hall of the casino.
Interested in the matter (and above all, in the woman), Lewis took the seat beside her. Although he was used to the attention, the crowd of people that filled the room allowed them some privacy. No one was paying attention to him, everyone was focused on their own activities and groups, but his mind was totally on her.
"That sounds like a shitty ex-boyfriend. Especially the part where he's my biggest fan, not the cheating." Lewis told her, trying to cheer her up.
And for the first time in a long time, Y/n genuinely laughed. Not from the alcohol, not forcefully, but genuinely from the way his words warmed her broken heart.
They were silent for a few moments until the driver interrupted. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" She questioned, looking at him.
"I don't know. For your break up. For reminding you of him when he clearly hurt you." Hamilton admitted, almost ashamed.
"Nah, don't worry about it. It has nothing to do with you. I'm sorry for being a bitch to you when you are just an innocent person in the story." The woman, now beginning to sober up, spoke sincerely. "You know what, for an all-important celebrity, you're kind of a cool guy."
He laughed softly. "Thanks, I guess?"
Almost as if reading each other's thoughts, the two looked at each other and, although they didn't say it out loud, they both felt something they hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe even never.
"We should go out one of these days." He proposed.
"What?!" Y/N couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.
"You know, because of your ex. Karma has a way of serving sweet justice." He shrugged, teasing her. "Not because of me, it has nothing to do with my personal interest at all."
She immediately sensed the joking tone in his speech and couldn't help but blush a little. After all, Lewis fucking Hamilton was asking her out on a date.
"Maybe we should, champ." The two smiled.
'Cause karma is my boyfriend
Karma is a god
Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend
Karma's a relaxing thought
Aren't you envious that for you it's not?
Sweet like honey, karma is a cat
Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me
Flexing like a goddamn acrobat
Me and karma vibe like that
The very next day they had a dinner date set at a restaurant of his choice.
Emma had laughed in her face when Y/N told her what had happened at the casino bar during the time they'd lost each other.
The truth is it felt like a fabrication, a total lie. Y/N couldn't judge her best friend for not believing, because even she still found herself pinching her hand, expecting to wake up in her bed from a dream at any moment.
Emma helped her prepare for their date, glad to see her happy again. She didn't care who the suitor was, as long as the smile on her friend's face remained from ear to ear.
It's safe to say that her jaw dropped to the floor when she opened the door to their shared hotel room and effectively saw Lewis Hamilton.
"Is Y/N here?" He asked as he stood there, in all his magnificence, in a simple white shirt, open enough to show his dark skin and the tattoos that decorated it.
"Emma, close your mouth." Y/N joked, holding the other girl's jaw. "Hey, champ."
God, here they were again. The butterflies in their stomachs.
The date was everything the young woman expected and desired. From the way Lewis opened the door to his black Mercedes for him, to the way he went out of his way to book an entire restaurant to allow them to have more privacy.
The conversation flowed naturally, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. What started as a misunderstanding over her attempt to forget a heartbreak ended up resulting in one of the best nights of her life.
As the night began to draw to a close, the girl couldn't help but think that this would be it. She would never see the man again. He would probably forget about her in a matter of days. And she found herself disappointed with that idea.
"Hey, what's wrong?" He questioned, as his hand intertwined gently with hers. He pulled her a little to stop her on her way back to the car, bringing the two of them closer together.
"I just don't want this night to end." The words were out of her mouth before she thought about what she was saying.
"This doesn't have to stop here, baby." She released a shaky breath when she first heard the affectionate nickname, but a slow smile appeared on her face.
Ask me what I learned from all those years
Ask me what I earned from all those tears
Ask me why so many fade, but I'm still here
After that magical night, he took her back to her hotel room and said goodbye with a loving kiss on her cheek and a caress along her cheek, keeping eye contact between them whenever possible as they said "see you soon".
Not goodbye but see you soon.
And it was said and done.
Not even two weeks had gone by before the driver was on a plane on his way to her, ready to spend his race-free week with his girl.
It became usual for them: him travelling to her, her travelling to him. They knew how quickly they were evolving, especially given the conditions in which they met, but when things feel right, why hold back? Out of fear of the consequences? Because of his fame?
He felt that he had finally found the balance he so desperately needed, without even knowing it. He found himself with his head on her and not his career all the time. She gave him peace, she gave him stability, she gave him everything he wanted and more.
On the other hand, she found in him the adrenaline, the enthusiasm, the thrill. Now she woke up smiling and went to sleep smiling. Something in her was reborn, perhaps her childlike spirit: the desire to know more, and the ambition to have and be more.
Together they were just that: more.
"So?" Jason interrupted his ex's thoughts. "I'm still waiting to hear from that little boyfriend of yours."
'Cause karma is the thunder
Rattling your ground
Karma's on your scent like a bounty hunter
Karma's gonna track you down
Step by step, from town to town
Sweet like justice, karma is a queen
Karma takes all my friends to the summit
Would it be toxic of her to rub her new relationship in her ex-boyfriend's face? Perhaps.
But, I mean, sometimes you and karma just vibe like that.
"Well... You see, this is a super funny story!" The girl smiled a little Machiavellian. "Actually, I have to thank you, for everything."
"To me?" He replied, totally confused by her change in tone.
"Yes, you!" She faked a grateful smile. "If you hadn't ruined everything between us, I'd probably still be stuck in that apartment I've always hated, and worst of all, with you!"
"What the f-"
"But no, since you don't have the ability to keep your dick in your pants, I ended up in a casino in the middle of Monaco and I met the best person in the world. Someone who treats me like I deserve, supports me like I deserve, LOVES me like I deserve!"
"You're just lying in an attempt to deflect the subject." Jason argued back. "So much bullshit talk and still no sign of your new boy toy after all."
"You can watch him on the big screen if you want!" She pointed to the giant television behind her, where Lewis was getting out of his silver car, ready to collect his prize. "However, I would prefer to see my man up close if you let me. Or rather, I don't owe you anything so I don't care about what you have to say. So enjoy the show."
Jason just stood there, motionless and disbelieving. Is she fucking kidding me? Lewis Hamilton?!
Karma is the guy on the screen
Coming straight home to me
Y/N ran across the paddock towards the podium as if her life depended on it. But when she arrived at the celebration, the trophies were already handed out and the champagne was already open.
Lewis smiled even more as soon as he set his eyes on his girl, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by her or everyone around them.
His speed in the race had nothing on the speed with which he descended the stairs from the top of the winner's spot to the audience, his path perfectly aimed at her.
"Hey, where were you?" He asked, wrapping her around the waist in his arms, kissing her immediately, without giving her time to respond.
Reminded of how bad her past had been and, above all, how happy she was by his side now, she returned the kiss with an intensity that was unusual for her. The cameras, the people, they were nothing next to him.
"Wow, baby." He expressed, giggling shocked by her public display of affection. "I missed your face when I got out of the car."
"Believe me, I wanted nothing more than to be here but you'll never guess who I saw." She shook her head, laughing as they started to make their way back to the Mercedes' motorhome.
'Cause karma is my boyfriend
Karma is a god
Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend
Karma's a relaxing thought
Aren't you envious that for you it's not?
Sweet like honey, karma is a cat
Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me
Flexing like a goddamn acrobat
Me and karma vibe like that
They approached their destination, still wrapped around each other, eyes on each other, lips on each other.
Lewis, still completely in the dark about the altercation that had taken place minutes before, saw a mysterious figure standing there staring intensely at the two of them.
"Hey, man." He initiated a conversation, as he usually did with all the more timid fans. "Do you want an autograph?" He asked sincerely.
Y/N couldn't help but laugh, eyes still not straying away from her champion.
warnings: age gap (no specific age, just mentioned), angst, no hea
this is just me projecting my sadness with this song onto one of the drivers, lewis being the best option. there's a chance i may do a part 2 to this eventually, but im pretty content with how it ended for now. i hope you enjoy!
It wasn’t always like this.
There was a time when you didn’t wake up, clenching your eyes closed in the hopes that it would magically change the outcome once they opened.
There was a time when you would wake up, Lewis nuzzling his chin into the space where your neck and shoulders collided, peppering the skin with little kisses in the hopes it would wake you from your slumber.
There was a time when you didn’t have to hold your breath, when your eyes didn’t have to adjust to the lack of light in the room, just to get a small glimpse of the man you loved curled up next to you.
It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment when it had all changed. Maybe it was at the beginning of the season, maybe it was before that. You couldn’t really be too sure.
Now, you were lucky to catch a glimpse of him in the morning, lucky to even get the chance to move your eyes across his ink-coloured skin beside you. You were lucky to even get a kiss goodbye in the morning before he left, the sun barely up when he was leaving to go to training, or the factory, or God knows where.
The words between the both of you were minimal nowadays, it was more like living with a roommate you saw occasionally instead of a lover that you were supposed to be sharing a life with.
There was a time when Lewis would giggle as he read the words of his books to you in whatever animated voice he could come up with. There was a time when the art he created was a joint effort between the two of you; now, it felt like all he did was tolerate you.
It was evident neither you, nor Lewis, wanted to touch on the topic. Both of you tiptoed around each other, not wanting to open the door that would push the storm in.
There isn’t much time spent at the paddock anymore, your career becoming the main focus of your priorities. You still welcomed Lewis home after every Grand Prix, his favourite dinner’s packaged in the fridge, the linens cleaned, and his clothes prepped.
A battle hero’s welcome, one could call it.
He always politely thanked you, a gentle kiss to your forehead before he made his way to the office for the remainder of the night. There was a time when he would debrief with you after every race, watching highlight videos on the television while he explained what he did wrong, what he did right, where he could improve and where he got a little too cocky. Now he just did it alone, the door of his office tightly closed, no sound emitting from the room.
Sugarcoating it to your friends and family was difficult. They understood Lewis’ career took center stage, but they couldn’t understand why he was never around when they came to your shared apartment, why it felt like his presence wasn’t even prominent in the home at all.
There was no way to explain it, without sounding naïve, without sounding like you were just letting a relationship that was drowning, pull you down with it.
Everyone suggested different reasons. The season wasn’t going in the way Lewis had hoped. Maybe his age is finally getting to him. Maybe he’s considering retirement and it’s bothering him. Maybe the age difference between the two of you is too much now.
Maybe he’s fallen out of love.
You knew the last one was a significant possibility. Lewis was a private person, but he showed his heart on his shoulder, especially at the beginning. Large declarations of love, obnoxious presents, at first, he wanted you to know that he was in love with you, constantly.
There isn’t a time in the last four months that you can remember where Lewis demonstrated his love for you, quick ‘love you’s’ before the door slammed behind him, a random heart in the middle of the night when he’s halfway across the world; even those had slowly stopped.
Nowadays he would hum silently when you told him you loved him, he would send a heart back if you sent one to him. He didn’t initiate anything, it just simply felt like he was tolerating it when you expressed your love for him.
It wasn’t hard to remember the times when Lewis would tell you how much he loved you, how he would show it.
He would curl up behind you in bed, the unmade sheets wrapped lazily around the two of you as he groaned into your neck, his hands resting around your middle as he eagerly cuddled up to you.
You could always feel him mumbling words into your neck, but he would never tell you what he was saying. Lewis would just smile and press a tiny kiss to your lips, the kiss heating up as time went on, your bodies moving in sync as he demonstrated his love for you in every way he knew how.
You weren’t a self-conscious person, you knew you had plenty to offer when it came to your relationship, and when it came to life in itself. You knew your love should be celebrated, celebrated in the way that Lewis used to celebrate it, the way he used to giggle as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, gently swaying to the music coming from his phone as you cooked together.
You tried to push the negative thoughts away, the thoughts of leaving, of packing up your bags and leaving in the middle of the weekend while he was away. You considered it, time and time again. The suitcases staring at you from the closet, telling you to open them, pack them, and leave.
Every weekend the temptation grew stronger and stronger. The urge to walk away, to preserve your dignity, sat heavy on your shoulders.
Every time when you thought you had decided, thought you had made the decision to pull the dagger out and walk away; an invisible force pulled you back. Told you that the season was slowly coming to its end, that the old Lewis would come back to you when the season was up, he was just stressed out and things were hard.
He never talked about his problems with you. He would debrief with you, sure. He would tell you about the problems in the race, but he would never tell you about his internal problems.
It’s how you constantly justified his behaviour, and his actions... or lack thereof.
Your mind always went back to those thoughts when you considered leaving. It always made you think about the fact that he was probably struggling, that he just wasn’t able to talk to you about it and that you leaving would probably make things worse.
It was the invisible but obvious force, that, you knew.
Lewis didn’t know about these thoughts. At least he never showed that he knew. The bags were always tucked away in the back of the closet when he returned home, like they were never sitting in front of the open door. Everything was back in their rightful place, as if the thought of leaving had never crossed your mind.
One of your favourite moments with him happened just before the beginning of the season. You were cuddled up on the couch, the remnants of a ‘Game of Thrones’ episode playing on the television, Lewis’ hand gently creating shapes on the visible skin of your back.
“Do you ever feel like you’re too old, or like... too wise for me? Like someone closer to your age would be better?”
You felt him huff against your neck, a small laugh falling from his lips before he pressed a kiss to the spot his lips were before shaking his head.
“Are you calling me old, my love?”
Immediately shaking your head with a tiny laugh, you slapped his chest with a gleam in your eyes. “You know what I meant, Lew...”
Rolling you over, he leaned over you as he pushed a lock of his own unruly hair behind his ear. “I rarely think about the fact you’re younger than me. It doesn’t affect the way in which I love you, half the time I forget that you’re younger than me. I definitely don’t think I’m wiser, that’s for sure. It’s pretty obvious who has all the wisdom between the two of us.”
The night ended with you below him, the sheets rustling, as if all the love he had for you could be encaptured in the way his eyes connected with yours. You had never felt that kind of raw love before, had never felt like everything you had done had led to that exact moment.
Trying to convince yourself that everything happening now was all in your mind was easy. The comments that your friends made, that maybe he didn’t love you anymore; was easy enough to ignore when you considered the fact that he did still reply to your messages, that he still came home every Sunday, that he still sometimes pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaving in the morning.
But then sometimes you let your mind reel, and reel, and reel. Lewis was there, but was he really there?
The conversation almost happened, after Spa. Lewis was exhausted coming into your shared apartment, his bags dropping down at the front door. You were wrapped up in one of his Mercedes sweaters, his racing number engraved on the sleeves; even if he was there physically and not mentally, you had still made him your everything, you had made him your mural, had dedicated the sky to him.
The pictures on the walls still showed a love between the two of you that wasn’t obvious anymore. The picture of you wrapped around him after the end of the 2020 season. The pictures of the both of you cuddled around each other at his family Christmas, the collage of his nephews wrapped in your arms. There were hundreds of photos that showed how life used to be.
Your mind came back to the present when Lewis crossed the path in front of you.
Like always, he went to press a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, the exhaustion prevalent on his face. As he was walking towards his office, you felt the words bubble out of your mouth before you could control them.
“Did you want to watch this with me? I feel like we haven’t really spent much time together lately.”
The words stopped him in his tracks, you could practically see the wheels turning in his head as his body turned in your direction. It felt like his face was mocking you with its fake sympathy as he gently shook his head, his curls moving with the direction.
“I’m just too tired. I have to go watch highlights in my office. Maybe later.”
It was always ‘maybe later’, or ‘maybe tomorrow’, or ‘I’m sorry we can’t celebrate our anniversary this year, I just don’t have time this weekend, maybe next weekend’.
It felt like you were begging him for a spot in his life, like you were an inconvenience that he didn’t want to put the effort into anymore. By now, you weren’t even begging for a line in the story, but a line in the footnotes of his life. A minuscule part, something that he couldn’t even try to give you.
Lewis made it clear he felt bad after he bailed on your anniversary. He spent hundreds of dollars on you, basically begging you for forgiveness and emphasizing things would be different soon, he promised.
He was right, things were different. Not in a good way. Maybe that was the point when things really started going downhill. It was still hard to pinpoint it.
Making yourself scarce when Lewis was home was easy. Your friends were always looking for you to go for lunch, or dinner, or out for drinks. Spending your time at work was always an easy escape, allowing the never-ending flow of work to occupy your thoughts as you went above and beyond.
If Lewis noticed that you were avoiding him, avoiding your home; he didn’t say anything. He never said anything.
Spending the weekends at home was therapeutic, your arms wrapped in another one of Lewis’ oversized sweaters. The smell of his cologne wafting up your noise as you pressed the sleeve to your face, the unshed tears refusing to leave your eyes. You wouldn’t cry, not again.
You knew you would cry, again. You always let the tears fall when you scrolled back up in your conversation with Lewis to when things first started, when he was animated, when he overshared, when he sent you photos of George, of Mick, when he forwarded you along videos of Roscoe when Roscoe was away with him.
Back when your love was celebrated, when it didn’t feel like Lewis was just tolerating it, tolerating you, tolerating your love.
Jealousy reared its ugly head every weekend as well. Whenever you saw an Instagram story, or a twitter post, whenever you saw that Lewis was out with his friends, or his team, or his crew. You knew it wasn’t fair to be jealous, that it wasn’t fair to compare yourself to the people that Lewis spent 5/7 days a week with, that it was hard for him to say ‘no’ to them.
It didn’t change how much it hurt, how much it made your heart ache to know that you truly were something that could be put on the backburner. He was always out building other worlds, but where were you?
Where were you every time he was out with his friends after a race? Where were you every time he was celebrating a win, or celebrating a pole in qualifying? Where were you every time he went live on Instagram?
Where was his love for you when you sat looking at the suitcases in the closet, again?
Gone.
It was time to accept the truth, that his love for you was gone. That he didn’t celebrate his love for you like he once did, that he didn’t celebrate you, like he once did.
He tolerated it, and he tolerated you. Tolerating something and celebrating it were too obviously different things. It had never been more evident.
The bags didn’t stare at you anymore as they laid open on the bedroom floor, your clothes finding themselves folded and inside each of them, your portion of the closet emptying out as the bags grew heavier and heavier. The bags under your eyes growing darker alongside them.
You couldn’t leave without saying anything to him, couldn’t allow him to come home to an empty home. It was obvious he didn’t deserve an explanation, and you didn’t plan on giving him one. But he deserved a goodbye.
It was clear the presence of the suitcases registered in Lewis’ mind the moment his eyes found them as the front door closed. He immediately looked at you, the most emotion you’d seen in months shining in his eyes.
“What’s going on?”
The shake in his hands was visible as he asked the question, his own bags falling gently beside your own as he stared at you.
“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t beg for a place in your life anymore, Lew. I’m sorry.”
The resignation was evident in his eyes, but there was no fight in them as he sat on the couch opposite you. It almost hurt to know that he wasn’t going to argue, wasn’t going to ask you to stay, to not break free and leave the both of you in ruins. It almost hurt, but you knew it would be the case.
“I’m sorry.”
He didn’t try to stop you as you went towards your bags, he didn’t look up from his ink-stained hands as the click of the lock sounded. He didn’t try to say anything more as the suitcases rolled out the door.
You didn’t see the tears gather in his eyes and then fall down his cheeks as the door closed behind you, the longing on his face as he debated with himself internally if he should run after you. Beg you to stay. It was so plain to see now, you were younger, and wiser, and he didn’t deserve you anymore.
Lewis knew the truth. You deserved someone who would celebrate you, celebrate your love. Not someone who could only tolerate it when their own life was falling apart. He didn’t deserve you, not anymore.
i really hope you guys liked this!! im really not too sure if i'll make a part 2, but if there's a lot of demand for one i will. thank you for all the love. also i read this like 4 times so if there's any mistakes im sorry lol
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