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vettelsvee · 3 months ago

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lewis hamilton + lawyer + enemies to lovers for city of stars au

LET'S CALL IT A CASE CLOSED | Lewis Hamilton Lawyer AU

Part of City of Stars Universe game (active until May 14th so join us!) Read until the very end to find out if you guessed right Lewis' plot 🔮 Become a beta reader of City of Stars F1 AU Universe 🏎️🏁✨

⋆ PAIRING: Lawyer!Lewis Hamilton x Lawyer Female!Reader ⋆ SUMMARY: Daniel Ricciardo, famous actor, gets involved in too much trouble. Lewis Hamilton, his lawyer, needs to help him... but you're the main problem and what will be making him difficult to win the case ↳ REQUESTED: Yes! Thanks for requesting and hope you like it anon 💖 ⋆ WARNINGS: Mentions of drugs, alcohol, public arguments and fights. A few of undercover spoilers from my upcoming F1 AU Universe, City of Stars hehe ⋆ WORD COUNT: 2647 ⋆ VEE'S NOTES: It's been a long time but I'm finally back! Honestly, I procrastinated today everything I had uni related just to write and post this, so I hope you liked it! Also, let's call it a celebration for Lewis' first ever Ferrari win (I don't mind it's a sprint race you guys). Hope you're all doing great and better than I am, as well as I hope you like this a lot (and please take part in the City of Stars game!) <3 ↳ TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

If there was one thing Lewis Hamilton was proud of, it was the lawyer he had become.

Years of studying, effort, and above all, sacrifice, losing more than one relationship along the way for "spending too much time studying" or "never leaving the courtroom", had led him to where he was now.

After several years working in London, the city that had shaped him as a lawyer, he decided to leave it all behind and move abroad, settling in Geneva, Switzerland. It was the city that had earned him the reputation he had fought so hard for, the one he had dreamed of, whether he admitted it or not.

He had lost more than he ever imagined when he first decided to study law. But did he regret any of it?

Not the slightest.

Lewis was used to high-stakes cases, the kind that kept him up at night not just because of the endless hours of work they required, but because the sheer adrenaline coursing through him wouldn't allow sleep to take over. Cases that were more about strategy than law were his specialty, the ones he thrived on. But this one? This one was proving more difficult than he would have liked.

Daniel Ricciardo, one of Hollywood’s most renowned actors, had turned his life into a disaster. Wild nights, substance use, and questionable company had drawn attention, but it was the public altercations with paparazzi and even a few fans that had truly damaged his reputation.

The media had already judged and condemned him. And while the upcoming trial had been kept as private as possible, everyone knew exactly when and where the Australian actor would stand before the court, perhaps to be saved by his trusted lawyer, Mr. Hamilton, as many already speculated.

Lewis, however, cared little for the headlines. He couldn't care less about the relentless criticism for taking on such a controversial, high-profile case with little chance of walking away unscathed.

What truly bothered him was the woman sitting across from him in the courtroom: Y/N Y/L/N.

You were brilliant, ruthless, and willing to win at any cost, no matter what it took. While Hamilton had won most of his trials, the few he had lost had been against you. Your rivalry was legendary; even judges and courtroom regulars were familiar with your dynamic: pure, unfiltered hatred, and nothing more.

"You look like you've been up all night, Hamilton," you remarked, your voice smooth yet laced with that infuriatingly smug tone. "I hope you’re not planning on making this easy for me, like you always do. It would be such a shame to see you fall so easily."

"You’re not getting away with anything, and you know it, Y/L/N."

You smirked in satisfaction, leaning back into your seat before turning your attention back to your client’s defense, one of the paparazzi, and the one who had suffered the worst of it. Yet, despite your focus, you couldn't help but steal a few glances at Lewis whenever he was deep in the case files. Unfortunately for you, one of those times, he caught you in the act.

To your surprise, though, he said nothing. Not until the trial began.

Two hours later, the courtroom erupted into a theatrical spectacle, as expected from a case of such media frenzy. Stepping outside for air had barely been an option. The press swarmed the courthouse, desperate to capture any moment that could make them enough money to never work again. Even Ricciardo’s arrival had been a disaster; he had to sneak in, and once inside, you had almost been ambushed yourself, accompanied by a chorus of shouts and insults from those who had already condemned him.

The battlefield had been set long before the trial had even begun, and despite facing worse cases in the past, neither you nor Lewis felt particularly confident.

When Lewis started presenting flimsy arguments about Ricciardo’s alleged drug use—insisting he hadn't consumed any at the party, nor had he been excessively drunk—and claiming the attacks on the press were nothing more than social media manipulation, it was your turn to present your case.

You always maintained a sense of ease, carrying the unwavering confidence that you had already won before even setting foot in the courtroom. Your ability to remain composed in moments like these was both infuriating and, to some, downright inspiring. The key wasn’t just to win: it was to make your opponent doubt themselves.

Today, however, things felt different.

Your legs trembled as you stood, and as you began to speak, the nervous fidgeting with your hands became painfully obvious. Lewis noticed, of course he did. And, as expected, he used it to his advantage, keeping his gaze locked on you, unsettling you even more.

"Your Honor," you began, taking a quick breath before continuing, "this case is not what the media or social networks want the public to see. I believe in facts, and there is overwhelming evidence that cannot be ignored. Mr. Ricciardo has not only been involved in incidents related to excessive drug and alcohol use, but also in acts of physical violence against individuals who were simply doing their jobs."

Lewis clenched his jaw. He held his tongue at first, but he couldn't stop himself. He wasn’t going to lose another case, not to you. He stood abruptly, his eyes locking onto yours.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he started, his voice sharp, almost venomous, "we are not here to entertain or speculate, as Ms. Y/L/N seems to believe. We are here to present facts. The so-called evidence the opposing side has presented is, at best, weak. And if anything, this trial has only proven how the media has painted Mr. Ricciardo as a criminal before the truth has even been brought to light."

The room fell into an eerie silence as you exchanged words, your arguments clashing like poisoned daggers, not just in an effort to win the case, but to defeat each other.

It had become personal. Too personal. And the inconclusive trial verdict was proof of that.

In the days that followed, your rivalry only escalated, if that was even possible. Every glance exchanged in the courtroom grew sharper, every objection felt like a personal challenge. Neither of you backed down. The tension between you two had become so unbearable that you were even threatened with case reassignment, to be replaced by lawyers who were, in the court’s words, "more professional than the both of you."

Tired and, let’s be honest, afraid that the legal career you had worked so hard to build was slipping away, you decided to call Lewis at the very least, to try and put things in order.

When he saw your name light up on his phone screen, he had no desire to answer. But a small, nagging fear that it might be something important, something crucial to tipping the scales in his favor and winning the case, made him take a deep breath before picking up.

"Y/L/N."

"I need to talk to you." Your voice was calm. Too calm, in fact. It was a stark contrast to the one he was used to, and that alone unsettled him. "About the case, of course."

"What about the case?" he asked, leaning back in his chair. "Are we finally going to agree on something?"

You had no idea how to respond to that. The silence that followed was uncomfortable, enough to put the Brit on edge.

"I'm not sure anymore, to be honest." You exhaled slowly, struggling to find the right words. "The more I look at this case, the more I wonder if we’re just playing a game. Is this really about justice, or just about how much attention it gets? About what winning means for either of us?"

Lewis remained silent for a moment. He hadn’t expected your call in the first place, but what he expected even less was hearing that. Hearing you doubt yourself.

"I don’t play games, Y/L/N," he finally said, his voice firm, authoritative. "I don’t lose. Not in court, not in anything."

"I never said you were playing." You corrected yourself, your tone measured. "I just think… maybe you should ask yourself if this case really matters to you. It’s not about Daniel anymore, is it? It’s about proving something. To yourself. To me."

The truth in your words hit harder than he’d like to admit.

Because deep down, you were right. Taking this case had never been just about defending Daniel. At least, not entirely. If there hadn’t been a fortune involved, would he even be here?

No.

Now, it was personal. A way to be close to you. A way to prove himself to you.

A desperate attempt to make you see him as something more than just a rival. To make you realize he was someone worth fighting for, not just against.

"Why the hell do you care?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Every time we've faced each other, you’ve won. So why the hell does sentimentality matter to you now?"

A long, heavy pause stretched between you.

For a second, he thought you had hung up. But then, your voice came through soft, trembling.

"I don’t know." You hesitated, as if saying it out loud made it all the more real. "Maybe I’m just tired of being what everyone expects me to be. I’m tired of being the villain."

Of being your villain.

Of you seeing me as nothing more than an opponent, when all I’ve ever done is try to be the best at my job.

But you couldn’t say that. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be that vulnerable with him.

Lewis didn’t say anything else either. Instead, he ended the call. And in that silence, he realized something… Something neither of you were ready to admit.

At least, not yet.

The next day, the trial reached its boiling point. The media frenzy had escalated, and the pressure was mounting from both sides. Daniel, exhausted by it all, was ready to end it, even if it meant things wouldn’t go in his favor.

By the time closing arguments began, the tension between you and Lewis was unbearable.

"Your Honor, this case has been nothing but a web of lies and excuses," you said, your voice cold, authoritative. "Mr. Ricciardo must be found guilty of every charge brought against him. And it’s time for his fans, his family, and even his legal team��" you paused, looking directly at Lewis, "to stop covering up the damage he has caused. Not just to others, but to himself. Dragging this on will only make things worse. His career is already in ruins. Let’s not pretend otherwise."

The weight of your words hung in the air.

Lewis met your gaze, and for a fleeting moment, it was as if you were speaking in a language only the two of you understood.

He was about to respond, but before he could, the judge called for a recess.

As you both stepped outside, Lewis exchanged a few words with Daniel just as you did with Mark, the only photographer who had dared to press charges. But eventually, you found yourselves alone in the hallway, the weight of the case pressing down on both of you.

"I never wanted this to get personal," Lewis admitted, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, calm. It was the first time you’d ever heard him sound like that.

"But it did," you replied simply. "From the very beginning, it always has."

You studied him, searching for what he wasn’t saying because if there was one thing you knew about Lewis Hamilton, it was that his words always held truth.

But right now, with you, that wasn’t the case.

"I know." You nodded. "But that doesn’t change anything. At least, not yet."

As the trial neared its conclusion, the outcome remained uncertain. The jury deliberated for hours, longer than either of you had anticipated, before finally delivering their verdict.

Daniel Ricciardo was acquitted on all charges, provided he paid 500,000 francs in damages to the photographer.

It wasn’t the victory either of you had expected.

Outside the courthouse, Lewis stood, staring at his phone, feeling the weight of the case lift, but not the pressure in his chest.

There was still something unresolved.

You walked down the courthouse steps, stopping beside him. Your presence was as cold as ever. You didn’t speak right away, instead crossing your arms and alternating your gaze between the journalists still hovering nearby and Lewis, who was engrossed in a conversation on his phone.

A conversation with an Amelie and with a Sebastian, a name you knew all too well.

"You won. You must be happy now," you remarked calmly.

"I didn’t win," he replied in a low voice, somewhat disappointed. "At least, not fairly. You know Ricciardo has a lot of influence as an actor, and..."

You simply watched him, your gaze filled with a tenderness you had never allowed yourself before, letting him speak.

"I didn’t win either, so I guess we’ll just have to take what we can get."

For the first time, there were no grudges between you. No rivalry. At that moment, you were simply two professionals who had done their best, caught in a media storm so overwhelming that you weren’t sure how to turn the page now that the Ricciardo case had come to an end.

But if there was one thing you were both fully aware of, it was that more than needing closure, you longed for it.

"You know, I think you’re right," Lewis said suddenly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. "And I think our colleagues might be right, too. You know what they say…"

"What do you mean?" You turned to face him, your expression as unreadable as his.

"That it was never just about the cases we were up against each other in," Hamilton murmured, almost embarrassed.

"It never was, and I think you know that just as well as I do."

For a moment, he didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at you. Then, slowly, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Maybe we always knew, and we just refused to admit it. But… what are we going to do about it?"

You lowered your gaze, considering the endless possibilities, until he pulled you from your thoughts.

"Let me take you to have dinner."

The words caught you completely off guard. For the first time, Lewis saw you hesitate—and he took it as a small victory, one he couldn’t deny he was proud of.

"Dinner… as in a date?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. Your voice told him there was something more there. Something, luckily, different from rejection.

"Call it whatever you want," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets, clearly nervous. "I just think it’s about time we had the conversation we keep avoiding… without trying to kill each other in the process."

"So that’s your strategy now? Take me to dinner and hope I suddenly start liking you?" You let out a laugh, shaking your head.

"I don’t need you to like me. I just need you to admit that you’re curious about me."

Lewis took a step closer. Instinctively, you found yourself leaning in as well. Then, despite your best efforts to resist, you smiled.

"Fine," you said, feigning indifference. "One dinner. And don’t get any ideas. This changes nothing between us, Hamilton."

"I wouldn’t dream of it, Y/L/N."

As he walked away, already pulling out his phone to book the best restaurant in town, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something you both had been searching for far longer than you had ever dared to admit.

And for the first time, neither of you minded losing to the other.

I'm sad to announce that you didn't get it right, anon, and Lewis won't be a lawyer in City of Stars Universe! But no worries: keep trying please! ✨

Also, if you like my content, and would like to support me, you can do it here <3 Thank you so much for reading until the very end! <3

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chishiyas-wig · 3 years ago

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✨✨✨ Hunter visits the human realm somehow and meets Camila. She immediately introduces him to Vee and they become frens

Read on AO3 btw, this is only half of the drabble second half will be posted soon

First time Hunter woke up, he couldn't see much. Everything was blurry. and he felt himself bleeding. His wounds were open and he felt numb. Like he would pass out any second. He couldn't recognize his surroundings, but it didn’t feel like he was in the Boiling Isles anymore. He had to stand up, despite how weak he felt. Once he managed to just barely stand up, he tried walking, his legs wobbling as he went. The world felt like it was spinning. He didn't really make it too far until he blacked out again.

The second time Hunter woke up was in another unfamiliar place, except he was on someone's couch. As soon as he could see clearly, he jolted up, immediately wincing in pain due to his major injuries. Not really knowing what to do, he started trying to remember things, hoping that it would distract him from the throbbing pain in his head.

Uncle--portal--Flapjack,wait, Flapjack!

Where was Flapjack? Was he okay? It didn't matter to Hunter much if he was okay, Flapjack was more important. He had to find him! He moved his legs, hoping to be able to move and walk, but as soon as he stood up, he fell, groaning in pain. Ugh. Why did his head hurt so much….

"Oh, you're awake!" he heard someone say, as he looked up. "How are you doing?"

"I-hngh..." he tried to get up, holding onto the couch for support, but instead he fell down again on the floor, face first, "Oof."

"Here, let me help you," the person said, as she held her hand out. Hunter took it, his legs still quite wobbly. The person guided him back to the couch. "So, how are you doing?" she repeated

"I-where's Flapjack?" Hunter asked, staring right at her, ignoring her question

"Who?"

"My bird"

"Oh! Is it the red cardinal?" He nodded. "I'll go get him, wait one second."

Flapjack would be fine, right? Was he also injured? He sighed and slumped back onto the couch. The person returned with Flapjack, who immediately came over to him, chirping and flapping around Hunter. He took Flapjack and cupped him in his hands. "Flapjack..you're okay.." he whispered

"Now, you didn't answer my question. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," he muttered

"You nearly toppled over while trying to stand up, I don't think that's 'fine'"

"I'm fine," he insisted, "Where am I?"

"You're in my house." Hunter stroked Flapjack's head, and turned his head around to face her.

Then, he got a proper look at her. She looked kind of like the human, and..she had...round ears.

Is that another human? Wait, am I in the human realm?

"I-am I in the human realm?" he asked, hesitantly.

"That's what you witches call it, right? Yes, you're in the human realm"

Oh.

"Who are you? And how do you know that I'm a witch?"

"I'm Camilla Noceda. Vee told me you're a witch"

"Who is 'Vee'?"

"I'll introduce you to her, stay right here," she told him, as she walked away to get Vee, leaving Hunter with his thoughts. Flapjack had made a little nest in his hair, and just bounced around on his head.

Hunter wasn't sure what to do. He wasn't even sure what happened. He knew it had something to do with Flapjack and Belos and-

He froze. All the memories came back to him. Belos had finished the portal, things were fine, but then..but then he found out about his palisman. He remembers being attacked while protecting Flapjack, then there was this flash of brightness, and he was falling-

His train of thoughts were interrupted as he heard footsteps. Camilla had returned with Vee.

Is that a basilisk?

He heard Camilla mutter a few things to Vee, and then she left out the door. Told Vee something about being late and stuff. Hunter watched as Vee came over to him, and sat down on the couch, not too close to him. A few seconds of silence passed until Vee decided to speak

"Hi, I'm Vee. What's your name?"

"Why should I tell you?" he lightly scoffed, looking away from her a bit

"Because I just saved you? Found you lying on the grass bleeding"

Why would they save him?

"Why would you s-...doesn't matter. I need to get back to where I came from," he told her, attempting to move his legs and stand again.

"You can't really go anywhere with legs like that, you know?"

"Of course I can, I've had worse injuries than this."

"Can you please just tell me your name?"

"I don't have to tell you"

"Fine, then. You're a witch, aren't you? How did you end up here?" she asked, making him freeze once again. The memory replayed in his head over and over again. Fighting his uncle, Flapjack’s frantic tweets as he was attacked, then he fell through the portal, blacking out- "Hey are you okay?" She lightly shook him, causing him to wince a little in pain. "Oh sorry-didn't know you were injured there." Hunter just stayed silent, having buried his face in his hands at some point.

“You’re a basilisk, why are you in the human realm?”

“I managed to escape. And I...I really like this place. It’s a lot safer.”

They didn’t really say anything after that. Flapjack watched as the tense silence continued between them. Eventually, he decided to break that silence. He flew over to Hunter’s lap, chirping and slightly pecking at him for attention. Vee held out her hand to Flapjack, which to he flew to Vee and perched on her arm

“Aww, does he have a name?”

“His name is Flapjack”

“Flapjack,” she repeated, lightly petting Flapjack’s head with her finger. “Wait, do you know what a flapjack is?”

“Uhh…” a light shade of pink dusted his cheeks, “well, it’s a type of pancake”

“You named your bird after a pancake?”

“Y-yes, so what?”

“Do you...know what a pancake is?” Hunter did not respond to that. “Come with me, I’ll show you what they are.”

She lead him to the kitchen, where she brought a pan and some ingredients out, and something labelled ‘pancake mix’. Vee also brought him a chair to sit, since he was still injured and barely stable. Hunter watched as she put the pancake mix and other things into a bowl and mixed them, and it turned into a batter of some sort. She poured some of it into a pan and it turned golden brown. She put the thing on a plate and gave it to him with a fork. “This is what a pancake is. I only learnt what it was a little while ago.” He cut off a little piece and put it in his mouth

“It tastes..bland,” he told her

“Oh! I almost forgot,” she said, going back to the kitchen and returning with a bottle of brown liquid. “This is syrup. It tastes less bland with this.” She took the bottle and poured a bit on Hunter’s pancake. He took another bite.

“It’s too sweet”

She frowned a bit, and took a chair to sit down beside him. “Can you tell me how you’re now? Did it have something to do with Belos?”

“Why would it have anything to do with Belos?”

“Well, Belos is part of the reason why I’m here”

“What are you talking about?”

“Let me tell you a little story…”

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