This is the anon from breathe baby breathe!!!! Im in love with itt. ok so New one LOL- - lewis hamilton x reader - major angst : on a night out lewis is accused of cheating on reader after tabloids come out - reader is breaking down, sobbing - lewis has been faithful (he was helping another girl who was being bothered by a slimy weird guy) - reader and lewis get into an argeuemnt about trust - lewis is furious that reader does not believe him - storms into the bedroom - y/n comes in and apologises, alot of tears I'm looking forward to it!!!!!! Thanks!
silent cries and salty kisses (lh44)
✦ pairing - lewis hamilton x female!reader
✦ genre - major angst, happy ending
The fairy lights above the balcony cast a warm glow on the champagne flutes, but the fizz in them did nothing to ease the churning in your stomach. A tabloid headline screamed "Lewis Hamilton Caught Canoodling with Mystery Blonde!" The accompanying picture showed Lewis with a young woman, their heads close, her hand on his arm.
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. One year. One blissful year filled with stolen kisses in his motorhome, whispered secrets under the roar of the engines, late-night talks that stretched into the dawn. Was it all a lie? A sob escaped your lips, hot and raw, shattering the happy chatter around you.
The flat thrummed with a tense silence. You, curled on the plush sofa, clutched the phone, tears blurring the incriminating photos. "Lewis..." your voice was a broken whisper, barely audible. "This... how can you explain this?"
Lewis, pacing like a caged lion, ran a hand through his hair. "Explain what? Look at it, (Y/N)! It's complete bullshit! I barely brushed shoulders with her."
"Barely brushed shoulders?" you scoffed, the sharp edges of the betrayal cutting through your heart. "You're practically making out in that picture! And the caption..." you choked on a sob, "Lewis, a year! How could you?"
"I didn't! (Y/N), for God's sake, wouldn't I tell you? You're the only one for me!" Lewis slammed his fist on the coffee table, frustration boiling over.
"Easy for you to say," you spat, anger flaring amidst the hurt. "The pictures don't lie, Lewis. They never do."
"This time, they are!" He knelt beside the sofa, pleading in his eyes. "Don't you trust me? After everything?"
You looked at him, your gaze wavering. You wanted to believe him, desperately so. But the image of him with another woman, the intimacy in the forced perspective of the photo, gnawed at your trust.
"I... I don't know what to believe anymore, Lewis." Your voice trembled, a fresh wave of tears cascading down your cheeks. "It just... it looks so bad."
Lewis's jaw clenched tight. The anger was no longer directed at the tabloids, but at the wall you were building between yourselves. "Looks bad? (Y/N), all I did was help a girl who was being harassed by some creep!"
"Helped her?" Your voice rose, laced with disbelief. "Helped her how? By cozying up by the bar?"
"Coziness? I was keeping that sleazeball away! She was practically in tears!"
"And you couldn't tell me that?" You threw the crumpled paper at him, a silent accusation.
He caught it mid-air, his eyes blazing with hurt. "Because I didn't think I'd have to justify my every damn move to the woman I love! (Y/N), where's the trust?"
Silence hung heavy in the air, punctuated only by your sniffles. The question hung like a barbed wire fence, separating your fragile foundation. Lewis rose, his frustration simmering.
"Apparently, trust is a one-way street in this relationship." He stormed towards the bedroom, his voice echoing through the room. "Think about it, (Y/N). Because when you do, I expect some damn answers!"
The door slammed shut behind him, leaving you alone with the wreckage of your evening. The sobs returned, a tidal wave of doubt and heartbreak washing over you. You wanted to trust him, you truly did. But the seed of suspicion had been planted, and it wouldn't be easily uprooted. Lewis's words echoed in your mind: "Think about it..."
But what was there to think about? The pictures screamed one truth, his words another. And you were left, stranded in the middle, unsure of where to turn, unsure of who to believe
You were adrift in a sea of your own tears, the crumpled tabloid a soggy mess beside you. Doubts gnawed at you, yet Lewis's pained voice, raw with betrayal, echoed louder. Trust. He’d pleaded for it, and you, blinded by the tabloids’ venom, had failed him.
Then, your phone buzzed. An unknown number. Hesitantly, you answered.
“Hello?”
A shaky voice filled your ear. “Is this (Y/N)? Lewis’s girlfriend?”
Your heart lurched. “Yes, this is she. Who’s this?”
“It’s Sarah,” the voice stammered. “From the bar in Monaco, tonight.” A wave of dread washed over you, but Sarah continued, “I just saw what’s going on in the tabloids, and I had to call. Lewis is a good man. A hero, actually.”
Hero? The word scraped against your raw emotions.
“He saw me being harassed by this… this disgusting guy,” Sarah continued. “Lewis intervened, kept him away. He was so kind, so protective. I was about to cry, I was so scared. Then, the tabloids came in…” Shame clawed at your throat, choking your breath.
“I’m so, so sorry,” you managed to rasp. “I didn’t understand. I… I believed the worst.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Sarah soothed. “Those pictures… they don’t show the whole story. Lewis is a good guy. You’re lucky to have him.”
The line went dead. You stared at the phone, a leaden weight settling in your stomach. Shame and regret coiled around your heart, suffocating you.
You had to see Lewis, had to apologise and beg his forgiveness. Rising on shaky legs, you stumbled towards the bedroom, the silence from within a stark contrast to the storm raging inside you. With a trembling hand, you pushed open the door.
There he was, slumped on the edge of the bed, head buried in his hands. His broad shoulders, usually radiating strength, seemed slumped in defeat. A choked sob escaped your lips.
Lewis’s head snapped up, hurt flickering in his eyes. But before he could speak, you were at his side, collapsing onto the bed beside him. Tears streamed down your face, hot and relentless.
“Lewis, I’m so… so sorry,” you choked out, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Your voice hitched with each sob. “I believed the lies, the pictures. I didn’t trust you. I was a fool.”
Tears streamed down your face, blurring the lines on Lewis's face as you clung to him. "I'm so, so sorry, Lewis. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I was an idiot, a fool to trust those awful lies." You squeezed your eyes shut, the weight of your doubt pressing down on you.
A muffled sob vibrated against your ear. Lewis, so strong on the track, was broken, his shoulders trembling with silent tears. It was a sight that ripped your heart open.
"Don't cry," you pleaded, your voice hiccupping. "This is all my fault. Please don't cry."
He didn't answer, burying his face deeper into your hair. Your hand reached up, stroking his back in a desperate attempt to soothe him. You hated being the reason for his pain.
Pulling back slightly, you met his eyes, the pain mirrored in their depths. "Lewis," you whispered, cupping his face. "I love you. More than anything. And the thought of losing you because I couldn't trust you..." Your voice broke again.
Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. It was a kiss of apology, a plea for forgiveness, and a desperate promise to do better.
Lewis's initial flinch softened into a sigh. He closed his eyes as the kiss deepened, his tears starting to subside. It was slow, filled with a quiet understanding. He was trying to show you it was okay, even though you felt like the world's worst girlfriend.
Pulling back, you whimpered, fresh tears escaping. "I feel so awful, Lewis. I don't deserve you."
He captured your face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears. "Hey," he murmured, his voice husky but calming. "It's alright, love. We all make mistakes."
He pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your hair again. This time, though, it was different. It was a hug that held forgiveness, a promise to rebuild.
"I love you," he whispered against your ear, peppering your forehead with soft kisses. "And you know what? Even though you scared the living daylights out of me with that whole 'don't trust you' thing…" he trailed off, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
You chuckled wetly, a flicker of hope warming your chest. "I'm so sorry, Lewis."
He squeezed you tighter. "It's okay, baby. Just… next time, maybe give me a chance to explain before jumping to conclusions, alright?"
"Alright," you choked out, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "I promise. No more tabloid drama."
He chuckled, the sound rumbling against your ear. "Good. Now," he pulled back slightly, a playful glint in his eye. "How about we forget all about this mess with a celebratory dinner? My treat, no arguments."
You managed a watery smile. "You mean it?"
"Of course," he grinned. "Just promise not to read any more tabloids while I'm cooking, okay?"
Relief washed over you, mingled with the warmth of his forgiveness. "Deal," you agreed, wiping another stray tear. "And Lewis?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you. For everything."
He kissed your forehead, a silent promise hanging in the air.
time skip and lewis pov.
The flickering light from the TV danced across the room, painting fleeting shadows on the wall. We were nestled on the couch, a half-eaten bowl of popcorn forgotten on the coffee table. (Y/N)'s head rested on my shoulder, her eyes glued to the screen, though I knew she wasn't truly following the plot. Her eyelids were heavy, the aftermath of the earlier storm still clinging to her. The movie, a cheesy rom-com I'd chosen solely to lighten the mood, seemed to only be accentuating the red-rimmed puffiness under her eyes.
A pang of guilt twisted in my gut. It was my fault she was like this – fragile, wounded by my misread actions. Yet, as I watched her, a wave of overwhelming gratitude washed over me. Even after everything, here she was, nestled against me, seeking comfort in my embrace. The tabloids' venom had stung, the doubt in her eyes had hurt worse than any crash, but she was still here. Still choosing me.
A small sigh escaped her lips, and I looked down to see her gaze drifting towards me. In those tear-washed eyes, I saw a million unspoken apologies, a love deeper than any headline could ever tarnish.
Before I could speak, a soft, warm hand cupped my cheek. Her thumb brushed away a stray tear I hadn't even realized had escaped. "I'm so sorry again, Lewis," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
I leaned into her touch, the familiar scent of her vanilla hair washing over me. "Don't apologize anymore, love," I murmured, taking her face in my hands. "We talked, we understood. That's what matters."
But she wouldn't be deterred. She pulled me closer, her lips meeting mine in a kiss that spoke volumes. It was a kiss of apology, of reassurance, a silent promise to weather any storm together.
As I kissed her tears away, the taste of salt a faint echo of the turmoil we'd just faced, I knew one thing for certain. My life without (Y/N) was unimaginable. She was my rock, my confidante, the missing piece that made everything complete. And for that, I would fight. Always.