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viennakarma · 5 days ago

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Good girls

Lewis Hamilton x Reader (+18)

Summary: When Lewis first sees you after many years, he wants you before he even recognises you. Once he does recognise you, he also notices you want him too, and a spoiled girl, you won't give up until you have him exactly where you want him.

Word count: 4k

Tags: female!reader, Rosberg!Reader (as in Nico's daughter), slightly taboo, age gap (ages not defined), smut, porn with almost no plot, teasing, Lewis is resistant but wants it, fingering, slightly angry sex, mutual masturbation, not discussed kinks, slapping, spit play (?), absolutely filthy, derogratory names (in a sexy way), angst, no hea, open ending (?), not beta read

Relationship: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Note: This is inspired by this misunderstood banger Good Girls by Nick Jonas. Please suspend reality to believe Nico is older, and would have a grown woman daughter. If this is not your vibe, please, don't follow through. Comments and feedback are welcomed.

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Lewis adjusted his shirt as he reached the club. The air was thick, bass thumping loudly. People dancing, drinking, and in far corners, making out. He stepped carefully around, going to the bar for a drink.

It was one of those private, exclusive clubs, no phones and no limits for people as rich and famous as most of the people inside. The kind of things that happened there, would never leave those walls. Big chandeliers and dark walls, no windows. Lewis had not gone to one of those in quite some time, but tonight… tonight he had an itch he had not been able to scratch yet.

Usually, he would reach out to any of the names on his hit list, but none of them were in Monaco this weekend. He had tried, so he might have to go old school and fish a pretty woman from a club.

He sat by the bar, taking a sip of champagne, scanning around until his eyes landed on one of the tables in the center. A bunch of men and women standing around the table and a pretty little thing dancing on the pole on top of it. She looked a little tipsy, not overly so, wearing a dress that had sparkling details, frilly and cute but dangerously sexy.

Her back to him, he stared at the curve of her back in that low cut dress, down to her perky ass, long golden legs. Hair wild, as she swayed her hips sensually to the deep bass song, sliding down the pole, making people cheer.

She was hot, undeniably. Lewis’ exact type of girl, a bit younger, sensual and looking like life is an eternal summer.

He decided he would approach her later, after she had come down from the table, maybe offer her some water, a smooth conversation and he was sure he could take her home before the end of the night.

Halfway through his drink, he watched when she spun around the dancing pole, face up like she was praying to a sinner’s god. And then… her face came fully into view.

Lewis’ stomach dropped.

You.

He knew you. He gulped, reaching for his phone to check something. Doing something he never expected to, he unblocked Nico Rosberg social media and checked the photos. It definitely was you, Nico’s older daughter. He put his phone away again, staring at you, still dancing on the pole dance. Trying to reconcile the sexy grown woman on the table with the scrawny little girl you were when Lewis had last seen you in person, probably had not even gone through puberty back then. Back when he and Nico still spoke.

He double checked on his phone, googling your name. Pictures of you in events, Motorsports related, charity events and galas. A few articles talking about how the Rosberg first-born was such a good girl, involved in many charity cases such as education for children from underdeveloped countries, women and young girls in earlier categories in motorsports, and sustainability. He looked at the pictures of you in long, elegant dresses and suits, looking like nothing but proper. And then he looked at you on the table, dancing, drunk and wild, looking like everything but a good girl.

He put his phone down and marched towards you on that table. He had no means to explain himself as he got close enough, shouldering off people as he got closer, and all but barked your name, enough to cut through the cheers and the music.

You had a lopsided grin when you turned to the sound of your name, bright lipgloss and a hint of recognition when you saw who had said your name.

“Sir Lewis Hamilton!” You laughed, unbothered by the evident anger in his eyes.

“Get down from that table.” He commanded, voice firm and gaze ablaze.

“No can do…” You sang, staring at him with your back to the pole, slowly sliding down. His eyes dropped to your legs for a half a second then he averted his gaze quickly, but you caught it.

“Get down on your own or I’ll make you,” He said, glaring.

You ignored him, still dancing, looking away. You were about to do a spin when a pair of big hands grabbed your waist and just… tugged. In a second, he placed you on your feet on the ground.

“Hey!” You pushed past him, walking towards the bar to ask for another drink, but he held you back by the forearm, tugging so you spun right back to face him.

“You’re going home,” He said, voice thick and teeth clenched like he was furious.

“My ass!” You tried to push him.

“This is no place for a girl like you. Do you think your father would approve of this?”

“What do you know about my dad? Not like you’ve spoken to him, or me, in a decade!”

Lewis blinked at your words. It was true, of course. He used to be the fun dad’s friend to you, always allowing a sweet here and there, and saying encouraging words about school or karting. Lewis was about to feel bad for not having any contact with your family for so long, when you drunkenly ordered another drink, and he got angry all over again.

“Okay, you’re done,” He huffed, firmly grabbing your forearm, not enough to hurt but enough to stop you, “You’re drunk and I’m taking you home.”

“Damn… at least take me out on a date first.”

“I’m taking your ass to your home. I’m not letting you make a fool of yourself here.”

“I’m a star here! Everyone loves me, you’re the one who doesn’t know that, old man,” you giggled as he started to guide you out, “Don’t be so rough, I might like it!” You teased and Lewis swore he could slam his own head against the wall. You were actively flirting with him, and he didn’t know if it was just to piss him off, but it was working.

He was about to leave when a different song started, you shouted about that being your song and started running back inside, he grabbed you before you could return, he removed his jacket and tied it around your waist and you stared at him confused. Then he just… crouched a bit and put you on his shoulder, carrying you out.

“Why the fuck are you thinking you can boss me around?!” You squealed, trying to get back to the floor, but his arm wrapped around your legs and the other wrapped around your waist and you felt… something.

“I’m saving your ass from the embarrassment, and tomorrow when you’re sober, you’ll thank me for it,” he huffed until he was at a parking lot and put you inside a car.

He got in after you, adjusting his jacket around your waist to cover your bare, tanned gold legs and- Lewis blinked, rubbing his face as he looked away. He absolutely shouldn’t be looking at you like that. Like a woman. You were the scrawny bratty teen he last knew you as, and not… this. Not a woman.

When Lewis gave the driver the address, but said your father’s house address, you bursted out laughing.

“I don’t live with my dad anymore, old man.”

“Then where do you live?” he huffed, annoyed.

But you just laughed, kicking your heels off and placing your feet on his lap. He stared confused as you pressed the button to turn the music up, then he turned the music down.

“I’m hungry…” You muttered, pouting. Lewis gaze went from your legs, up to your face, to your pretty lips sparkling with lipgloss, looking so soft and so kis-

“I’ll stop by somewhere,” He cleared his throat, looking ahead.

As the driver stopped by a restaurant and left the car to get some food, you stared at Lewis, and he turned to face you. With a mischievous smile, you moved your feet slowly on his lap, going to the inside of his thighs and lower. He choked, grabbing your ankles.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Like you don’t want it…” You laughed.

“I don’t. You’re a kid!”

“I’m a woman!”

He placed your legs back down on the floor instead of his lap.

“Behave. I’m not fucking you. You’re way too young.”

“Like that ever stopped you.”

“I don’t remember you being this mouthy before,” He said, annoyed and not looking at you.

“You don’t know me, Lewis,” his name on your lips sounded like a venom he wanted to drown in, “It’s been a decade.” You said, slightly more serious, leaning over him, this time, holding his wrist and tracing the lines of the tattoos that went down his hand and fingers. Lewis gulped, goosebumps on the back of his neck as he stared at the pretty curve of your neck, your collarbone and the valley of your cleavage showing prettily under the cut of the dress.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, sunshine,” he held your wrist and pushed your hand off.

“And if I can finish it…?” You whispered, licking your lips like you were about to jump him.

The driver returned, opening the door to the back seat, and you flinched away from Lewis, removing the jacket from around your waist and just putting it on. As Lewis unpacked the food and handed it to you, you relaxed against the seat.

In a moment, you were out like a light, and Lewis huffed, knowing he’d have to take you to his place after all. From the parking lot to the penthouse, he carried you in his arms bridal style, making his way to one of his guest rooms, the one closest to the main suite because he wanted to hear if you made any mess during the night. After laying you down under the covers, he gently ran a makeup wipe on your face, left a glass of water and painkillers on the side table.

When you woke up the next morning, you were slightly confused for a few moments, before sitting up and remembering the night before completely. You stood up, stretching as you made your way to the bathroom, removing your clothes and getting under the warm water of the shower.

After that, you wrapped yourself in a robe, brushed your teeth and washed your face, feeling brand new again.

As you left the guest suite, you slowly padded down the hallway, looking for Lewis, the house seemed quiet in the morning. You quietly opened doors, one by one until you were before the main suite, which you knew was Lewis’ bedroom because it was the most lived in compared to the other bedrooms.

“Lewis?” You called out, but only the silence replied.

You walked in, slowly, calling his name in case he was there. With your fingers tracing the bedsheets, you walked further inside, taking a peek inside the empty bathroom, then you walked towards the closet. Inside it was empty, but the heavy smell of cologne was everywhere and engulfed you. Touching a few of his clothes, you paused as you saw soft cotton pants and a t-shirt folded neatly over a chair. You grabbed the shirt, bringing it close to your face to smell his cologne in it. You had hoped he wore that recently. You smiled as you dropped the robe you were wearing and put on his shirt, long that went down to your thighs.

You wondered if that was enough to break his resolve.

As you went to the kitchen, the breakfast was set on the dinner table, rich, hearty food. You still looked around for Lewis, but he seemed to be out.

You sat and ate some, drinking a sweet iced tea that was there.

After finishing breakfast, you stood before his kitchen, sipping on a glass of cold water, when you heard footsteps.

Lewis stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you there, leaning against his kitchen counter, comfortable, wearing his clothes like you belonged there. He was dressed in gym clothes, shorts and no shirt on, the t-shirt tucked into his shorts, skin glistening with sweat as if he had just come from the gym.

In all truthness, he had hoped you’d have left before he came back from his morning run. He expected you to be mortified by the night before, by your drunk words and worse, your drunk actions. But he should have known better. He should know you would have absolutely no shame.

“You’re still here.” He pointed out like it was a glitch in his carefully constructed plan. You laughed at him.

“I didn’t get any memo about leaving early. Was that your plan?” You looked at him, amused, sipping the water, unbothered.

“I’ll ask the driver to take you home…” He reached for his phone, removing his airpods.

“And if I don't want to leave yet?” You walked closer, grabbed his phone and held it back, far from him.

As he stepped closer to take it back, he fell right into your trap, chest to chest, face dangerously close as you tilted your head to face him, your free hand landing on his chest.

“You know we can play cat and mouse all day…”

“You’re way too spoiled for your own good,” He hissed, still trying to reach for his phone, but the move had you pressed between him and the counter. He hated it. He hated that he could feel the shape and warmth of your body against him, he hated that mischievous glint in your eyes, that winning smile like you had him exactly where you wanted him. He hated that his body reacted to every single bit of it.

“I just know how to get what I want,” You said, placing his phone on the counter behind you as you propped yourself up, pressing your breasts to his chest.

You closed your eyes, leaning closer, your nose brushing his neck as you tiptoed to place a peck on his cheek.

“You’re too young.”

“You’ve been with women my age, come on now,” you giggled, unbothered by his excuse. The way you bit your lip, not a single care in the world had his cock hardening under his thin training shorts.

“But I knew you before! I know your dad, for fucks sake…” Lewis tried to cling to the last bit of his restraint, but it was hard, literally and metaphorically.

“Who cares?” You muttered, nosing at his jaw and he groaned.

“I care-” His voice failed, “-I care. We should not engage in this-”

“Then what-” You paused, hand trailing down his chest, index hooking on the waistband, “-is this?” You laughed in his face, index tracing the hard contour of his cock, on top of his shorts.

He bit his lip, holding back a groan, and you could see in his eyes the moment his resolve just snapped. Pupils dilated and heaving chest, his hand snapped up, going to the back of your neck and yanking at your hair, which made you gasp, staring up at him with a teasing smile. He looked angry, pissed that he couldn’t resist you.

“Don’t know how to take a no, do you?” He nipped at your lower lip and pulled away, it had you moaning, melting into him, “Always pushing and pushing to get whatever you want…”

You leaned forward, trying to kiss him, but he tugged your hair, stopping you before your lips could touch, clicking his tongue, almost annoyed at the fact you dared to try him. To test his patience and push his buttons.

He let go of your hair to grab at your jaw, angrily holding it as he ran his thumb over your lips, the other hand going down from your waist to your ass, sliding under his shirt you were wearing, finding you wearing no underwear at all.

“No panties on?! Wearing my shirt like that, with nothing underneath…” He scoffed, his touch growing tighter, your smile bigger as you saw the effects you had on him, his hand palming at your ass, kneading pulling you closer so he could roll his hips against you, making you feel his erection against you.

You gasped, grinding against him as you reached up, trying to kiss him again, and he offered you some mercy, pulling you close and smashing your lips together. He kissed you hard, pushing like it wasn’t enough, like he needed to merge into you. His tongue molten hot against yours, reaching and sucking and wanting more.

His hand let go of your ass and found your cunt, unceremoniously swiping a finger between your folds, which made you gasp, catching your slick, spreading it and pulling his hand back to force you to look at it on his finger.

“That’s what you wanted, huh? This pussy is begging for me, you greedy girl…” He muttered, half angry, half turned on. His hand found your pussy again, spreading your slick all over, teasing but never pushing a finger inside or even pressing your clit, “Making a mess for me, greedy little slut. Such pretty sounds, and I haven't even started with you.”

You whined, hips rolling into his hand trying to find that touch, trying to quench the need that had your cunt clenching around nothing, pulsing for more.

“Wan’ more… Lewis, more,” You gasped, and he finally, finally obliged, slowly sliding half a finger into you, and you moaned, desperate, needy.

“‘Course you do, spoiled brat,” He said, finger sinking deeper, and you grabbed his shoulders, trying to bite back louder sounds. As you got used to the intrusion of his fingers, your hands slid down his chest, tugging at the waistband of his shorts and boxers, pulling it down.

His cock sprang up, hard and leaking, ready for more. He was big, but especially thick, as you wrapped a hand around his velvety skin, warm to the touch and throbbing. He groaned as you tried to wrap your hand around him, and he noticed the size difference from your hand to his sheer thickness. He hummed as you stroked him tentatively, your eyes moving between his cock and his face, trying to read in his expression what felt good.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and you whined at the absence. He grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand up closer to his face, and he simply spat on your palm, moving it back down and wrapping your hand around his cock again, his hand on top of yours to show you the pressure and the speed to stroke him, “Like that…” He murmured, the last word elongated like he was holding back a moan, “Yeah, keep going…”

You two looked at the absolute filth that was both your hands on him, sliding down to his base, up to his head, smearing his pre-cum all around. It all made you absolutely wet, slick starting to slide down the inside of your thighs.

“Now be a good girl and keep going,” he commanded, letting go of your hand and watching as you kept stroking him the way he showed, slow, tighter at the base.

His hand went back to your pussy, sinking two fingers this time and you moaned, your hand on his stuttering, but you pushed through and kept stroking his as his fingers went deep, slowly searching until- you whined, moaning out loud as he brushed your spongy g-spot.

“Found it,” He whispered, smugly, planting a soft, cooing kiss to your lips, stealing your moans into his mouth, “riiiight here… can feel your cunt clenching around me, baby. Feels good?” he muttered, feeling your cunt gripping his fingers.

You tried to reply, but between the way he was pushing and pushing into you, his fingers massaging your g-spot over and over, and the way you were still trying to rub his cock, trying to give him the same pleasure he was giving you. The pleasure was overwhelming, reaching the spot and pulling back just enough to push you to the edge but never letting the wave hit. Your eyes rolled back, hand going slack around him.

“Hey, hey, baby…” Lewis called, whispering your name to bring you back to earth, with his other hand, he softly slapped your cheek, which made you snap back to reality, pussy clenching with each slap, “Are you already fucked dumb on my fingers?” He clicked his tongue, “Don’t stop touching me, baby. Go on, like I told you to. You’re such a good little slut, you can do both…”

You nodded, breathing hard as you went back to tugging at his cock with just half a mind. Meanwhile his fingers hit the spot, pressing harder, deeper.

“Fuuuck, Lewis- I’m close-” You gasped.

“I know, baby… Just let go, be good and give it to me…” He whispered, lips finding your neck and teeth just grazing the skin of your pulse point.

A few more strokes and you were cumming around his fingers, moaning, toes curling and head falling forward against his shoulder, so out of it that you didn’t realize your hand was grasping his cock hard, almost strangling his length. It was slightly painful, but Lewis was a filthy man, and your tight grip was enough to push him over the edge, spilling his cum on your hand and some even landing on your thigh. He groaned, eyes closed as he rode the high just beside you.

Once he could move again, he picked you up, taking you to his ensuite bathroom, sitting you on the edge of his jacuzzi. You were still feeling relaxed from the orgasm, so you let him grab a towel, dampen it under the running water and softly clean you. You hissed as the contact made you sensitive, but he was careful, slow. As he got you clean, he turned to the sink, washing his hand.

The haze of the orgasm finally faded and you stared at him, the set of his jaw, the way his eyes refused to look at yours. You paused, and you knew post nut clarity had hit him.

“Lewis?” You asked, slowly. He didn’t reply for a moment, leaning over the sink to wet his cheeks and neck. “Lewis?” You called out again and he finally turned to face you.

The regret was written all over his face.

“Lewis, this-”

“Shouldn’t have happened,” He said, voice sharp.

“Come on, don’t do this…” You stood up, walking up to him.

“No, no. This shouldn’t have happened at all. You’re too young, I knew you from before-”

“Lewis, it’s been years since we last saw each other. I know you, I know you never looked at me like that before last night!”

“This is insane. And wrong. Besides, you’re Nico’s daughter, this crosses so many boundaries.”

“So it all boils down to that? To your fucked up friendship with my dad…?”

“You know what I mean,” He shook his head, heading outside. You followed him, going back to the kitchen, where he got his phone, “My driver will take you home.”

“Don’t be like that…” You tried stepping closer, but he took a step back and you paused.

Your stomach dropped, realization dawned that he was serious, he was really shooing you away after that intense moment, like you were some sort of whore who he had his fun with and it was time to go. You swallowed, taking a step back. Lewis’ face softened as he noticed the hurt quickly passing through your face, but you straightened your shoulders, hurt being replaced by anger.

“You’re gonna regret this,” you told him.

“I already do.”

“Fuck you, Lewis.”

You went back to the guest bedroom where you had woken up in, not even bothering to change back into your yesterday clothes, only grabbing your purse, clothes and shoes. You stepped out of the bedroom and Lewis had made himself scarce.

The driver was waiting for you in the living room, and he quietly led you down the elevator, going down to the parking lot. Less than twenty minutes later, you had left a distraught Lewis Hamilton behind. But some part of you knew it wasn’t over yet. And however it may be, you were going to make him pay.

pls don't cancel me!

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viennakarma · 6 days ago

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Hope is a dangerous thing (for a woman like me)

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: When you hear Lewis' love grievances, while your own heart breaks, your own secrets spill out.

Word count: 5.5k

Tags: female!reader, best friend reader, unrequited feelings, pining, confessing feelings, reader needs a hug, lewis is a mess, hurt no comfort, complicated feelings, arguing, no happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Note: Oh, look at me, posting twice in a week???? This is full angst, don't ask me how it came to be, I just had to take something off my chest I guess. I'm sorry if it's confusing or all over the place, emotions do be like that sometimes. Comments and feedback are welcomed.

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You and Lewis had been friends for so many years, more than a decade now. You had met through work, right when he started diving into his musical side. Back then, you were one of the most sought after musical producers and songwriters in America. You had met by chance through a mutual friend, and had gone into a studio right after, writing and recording some songs. The rest was history.

With a consolidated career now, you could afford to pick and choose whatever projects you wanted to work on, enjoying most of what life could offer. You were happy on all fronts, friends, family, career. But there was one single thing that never fixed itself.

Your love life.

Your last real, long term relationship had ended around four years before, after you were cheated on. Back then, you were a wreck. And Lewis, bless his heart, was a true angel throughout your low months after the breakup. That was the exact moment you two stopped being friends, and became best friends. He helped and supported you through the whole suffering after your breakup, and at the end of that year, you were the one supporting him after that god forsaken championship.

That was when everything changed for you.

That was when Lewis’ unwavering support changed everything about how you viewed him. How he became more than just your friend, and you couldn’t help but start to fall in love with his bright eyes and easy smile.

You had promised from the beginning that your friendship with Lewis was as real as it gets, and it was genuine. For a while, you hated yourself for that, for falling in love, for running your own view on that friendship that meant so much for both of you.

Now, now you had to watch him fall in love with someone else…

And the worst part? Was watching that someone not reciprocate his feelings. To break a heart that you’d give everything you could to have in your own hands, to cherish, to love.

Your own heart was in his hands, breaking alongside his, silently. But he didn’t need to know that, right? No, you were the best friend who he’d vent to, for advice, for support. And you would be exactly that.

You kicked the ground under your boots, both of you sitting on swings side by side in an old, almost abandoned park. You had lived in a flat right in front of that park many years before, and whenever you and Lewis wanted to talk, you’d go there, under the big willow tree, that offered some sort of privacy for deeper conversations. You had long moved away from that neighbourhood, but somehow, you’d always find yourselves back there, sitting on the rusty swing under the willow tree.

Lewis was hurting, spilling his heart out for you about the person he’d been pining for was ignoring him. The woman he’d met a couple of months before, who he’d been trying to win over was now ghosting him, and had recently shown up publicly with another famous athlete. You had tried to help, really, helping him find out her preferences, picking gifts and giving ideas on how to proceed. But she had apparently found someone else now.

You had watched all of it, from the first moment Lewis told you about her, eyes sparkling, to now, when the spark had faded into disappointment, heartbreak. As much as it hurt to watch him look at someone else with that admiration, it also hurt to see him hurting. But this is what friends are for, right?

“It’s not that she is busy,” you murmured, placing a comforting hand on his knee as he stared ahead, the rustling leaves of the willow. “She just isn’t willing to make time for you. She’s not the kind of person who’s going to see what’s right in front of her.”

Brutal honesty—that’s what he appreciated about you. No sugarcoating. Just honesty.

Lewis looked over at you thoughtfully, then turned his gaze back to the leaves. “Is everyone’s love that fleeting?” he asked softly, the pain in his eyes as clear as the moonlight.

Your feelings for him refused to fade, no matter how hard you tried to bury them. But you couldn’t tell him. After all, he was your best friend, right? And some things… some things were better left unsaid.

“No…” You paused thoughtfully, staring at the tree too, “not everyone’s.”

Lewis glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, arching an eyebrow at your cryptic response. He knew you were holding back something—something you weren't talking about. He was used to reading people, but you'd always been an exception. Sometimes, it was like trying to decipher a puzzle he couldn't seem to solve.

Lewis exhaled, kicking the ground like you had done under the swing, watching the dust rise and settle again, then gazing away into the still night air before turning to face you fully.

"Care to elaborate?" he prompted, the hint of a challenge lacing his tone.

“No,” You said softly, shaking your head, “there’s someone genuine out there for everyone, I guess. Or better, I hope…” You swallowed thickly. You knew none of that sounded like you.

His gaze lingered on you, studying the way you refused to meet his eyes, how your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your sleeve. He knew there was more to this than you were letting on.

“Hope, huh?” He let out a mirthless chuckle, a hint of sarcasm coloring his words. "Since when did you get so damn optimistic, eh?"

He leaned back, hands flexing against the chords of the swing, his expression hardening a fraction.

“It isn’t like me, is it?” You chuckled, shaking your head. You had always been more cynical between the two of you, a realist, Lewis always says. And he was usually the optimistic one, you two balancing each other out on the friendship. Honesty and genuineness had always been a foundation to your friendship. Even if the truth sometimes hurt.

“Damn right it isn't.” He couldn’t help the hint of a smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth, eyes softening despite the heavy atmosphere between you.

He seemed to pause and think for a bit, “Why the sudden change of heart?”

He didn't believe for a second that you'd suddenly become an optimist out of nowhere. There was something beneath the surface, a reason behind your hope.

“I didn’t have a change of heart. I just think you’ll be fine, and you’ll find someone better than her…” You shrugged softly, the swing moving a tiny bit with the movement.

He rolled his eyes, the smallest hint of a laugh escaping his lips. “Oh, so you just suddenly got all optimistic about my love life, is that it?”

He watched you carefully, studying your averted gaze. Your words said one thing, but your body language told another story. Something was off.

Lewis shifted closer, his knee just barely bumping against yours. “Come on, spill it,” he said, nudging you lightly. “You’re acting even more cagey than usual. What's really on your mind?”

“Maybe I should start doing something about mine too,” You said, somberly.

“Your love life?” He asked, as if he had misheard you. His eyebrows lifted in mild surprise, and a hint of curiosity crept into his gaze. “So there is a special someone, eh” He leaned in, resting his forearms on his knees. “And here I thought I had all the juicy secrets.”

“No, I… I don’t know.” I laughed at his little joke, kicking the grass absentmindedly, “The other day, Sean asked me out.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by that bit of information.

“Sean, huh?” Sean was a friend of his, merely an acquaintance to you, Lewis himself had introduced you two. He’d always known you were popular among his friends, you had a way of charming everyone you met, despite refusing almost all of them and never really getting into a relationship with any of them. Trying to feign nonchalance, he shrugged casually. “And what did you tell him?”

“I refused, let him down gently. He’s a great guy, and would be a great boyfriend too. But… I don’t feel him like that,” You explained, that part was genuine, you just left out the reason why. The reason sitting right beside you.

He nodded slowly, processing your words and trying to understand the sudden relief washing over him. But a part of him couldn’t help feeling the tiniest bit protective. You’d been through so much together, and the thought of you with someone who wouldn’t value the great person you were...

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and put on a nonchalant facade. “Why not? Sean is a solid pick.”

“I don’t see him like that.”

He studied you silently for a moment, watching the way your expression remained stoic. You wouldn’t look at him, instead staring fixedly at the grass beneath your feet.

His gaze darted from your face to your hands, clenched tightly on the plank of the swing at your sides. Clearly, there was more to this than just “not seeing him that way.”

He tilted his head, his voice quieter as he asked, “Is it because you've got someone else in mind?”

You just shook your head, holding back as always, hiding it, putting those damn feelings deep down, hiding them deep in the place where they were rooted, somewhere between your heart and lungs, fighting to come out like a dam about to break.

Lewis, though, couldn’t resist the urge to push a little further. The fact that you wouldn’t open up made him all the more curious. He shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours again.

“You know you can't keep secrets from me, right?” He said, his tone a mix of playful teasing and genuine concern. “Come on,” he nudged you with his elbow, “just spill it. Who’s the lucky guy who’s got your heart all tangled up?”

Something in your stomach froze. Like a train derailing, you felt the conversation turning to a point that could slip out of your control, so you tried to finish it, to lead it back to him or at least, to end the subject of your love life.

“It’s a mess. You don’t want to know about it. Bottom line is, he doesn’t want me,” You said with an exhale, but it didn’t ease the tightness in your chest.

Damn.

Those words cut through him like a knife, stabbing him square in the gut. It took all his willpower to keep his expression blank, hiding the sudden wave of emotion that washed over him. He was your best friend and he never, ever wanted you suffering for whatever reason. He cursed himself internally for caring so damn much, for feeling his heart ache at the thought of you pining for someone who didn’t want you.

“And how do you know that? Have you asked him?” Lewis continued pushing despite knowing you well enough to catch on your failed attempt to diverge the conversation.

You froze for a moment, staring ahead as you built up the courage. Like hanging from the edge of a cliff, losing grip as you slip down to a fall. This is it. This is the moment you rip the bandaid and change your friendship forever.

But you hesitated.

Years of friendship, years of loving him genuinely as a friend, and more recently, loving him as a man. Were you really ready for the impending change in your dynamic? In the most probable odds, you’d confess and he would say he doesn’t love you like that. In the least probable odds, the one you so desperately wanted to be true, he’d say he felt the same, or at least, he’d be open to try something more.

He noticed the shift in your demeanor, the way you froze in place. It raised a hundred different alarms in his mind. Something was going on, something big. He'd never seen you like this before. Lewis leaned in slightly, his gaze intense on your face, as if trying to read the thoughts silently screaming behind your blank expression.

“Hey…” he said softly, like speaking to a wounded animal, a tone he only used when he knew you were sad, his voice lower than usual. “You look like you want to say something.”

“He’s- he’s pining for someone else,” you said slowly, about the man you were in love with. About the one who, to him, was a faceless figure, and to you, it was the pretty brown eyes looking back at you with such softness, such care, that the knowledge everything was about to irrevocably change tore something in your chest.

Lewis felt for you, truthfully, suffering for whatever reason was the last thing he wanted for you. He let out an annoyed scoff, not at you, never at you, but at the man that dared to break your heart.

“Sounds like an idiot, if he’s chasing after someone else when you're right here.”

You knew Lewis was just cheering you up like he’d always done. The kindness and care he has always had for you, as your best friend.

“Idiot…” You repeated, whispering to yourself, realization that the moment was there, and you had to just- just say it, “The man I’m in love with… He doesn’t see me like that. He’s suffering for someone who doesn’t want him, confiding in me while I break my heart trying to fix his own.”

Finally, you stared at Lewis, your face saying everything your mouth couldn’t. Your eyes, shining in fear, longing that burned bright and the words that were stuck in your throat. Confessing the feeling you were forcing yourself to.

His heart skipped a beat as he met your gaze.

The intensity in your eyes, the raw emotion pouring out of you—it was a punch to the gut. He could see the pain you’d been hiding, the suffering you’d been going through while playing the role of a comforting friend.

It was at that moment that it clicked. He understood the weight behind your words, the silent confession you were making. He swallowed hard, the realization hitting him like a truck. You were talking about him. The man you were in love with was Lewis.

He felt a rush of emotions: surprise, disbelief, and yes, a hint of dread. But that was quickly suppressed by doubt. You were friends, just friends, and nothing more. Had been friends for the longest time, and the fact that you could have feelings for him, never even crossed his mind as a possibility.

He’d watched you date other people, he had seen you being happy, being adventurous, having fun, meeting people. But here you were, confessing your feelings for him, the dumbass who’d been pining after someone else.

You were burning in a new kind of shame under his gaze now, the words you dared to say now out in the open, impossible to take back, impossible to not be under his scrutiny. It was too late to back down now, what was left was just damage control.

“You don’t have to say anything…” You said, voice thick with all the unsaid feelings.

He shook his head, trying to find words, to grasp at what now was his reality. His best friend was in love with him and how goddamn stupid he’d been for chasing after a dead-end romance.

“You can't just drop a bomb like that and then tell me not to say anything,” He whispered, looking confused.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. I don’t want to lose you, even as a friend...” You whispered, a lump lodged in your throat. Because your feelings for him meant nothing compared to your friendship.

The possibility of losing your best friend, of losing his random hours calls, late night trips to any store you two could get snacks and sweets no matter the country you were in, studio sessions just you and him playing around with music, lyrics and melodies. The thought of losing the man who’d held you when you thought you were going to dissolve in a pool of tears, the one that held your hair when you threw up, the man you held when the weight of the world landed heavily on his shoulders… The thought of losing that was more heartbreaking than any unrequited love.

“I can’t lose my best friend, Lewis…” You whispered and his heart broke in a completely different way.

“You're not going to lose me, you idiot,” he said gruffly, but there was that hint of affection in his tone. “I just... I need to process this.”

He was struggling to maintain his cool, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. This changed everything inside both of you, but he also didn’t want to lose the most consistent friendship he had in a long time.

“It’s okay, take however long you need,” You forced a smile but your stomach dropped with dread. Dreading to lose everything and even your friendship. You stood up, adjusting your coat, “it’s late, we should probably head home.”

He watched you stand up and adjust your coat, a pang of unease shooting through him. He knew you were masking your pain, forcing a smile like you always did. He hesitated for a moment, torn between wanting to pull you back and needing to sort out his own thoughts.

“Wait,” he said, his voice soft as usual, “Can we... Can we talk about this again tomorrow?”

He needed time to process everything, to figure out what the hell he was feeling. But the thought of losing you, of pushing you away, was excruciating.

“Yeah, tomorrow night…” You nodded, taking a step back, “Good night, Lew. Don’t hate me, yeah?”

His chest tightened at your words, the thought of you thinking he would hate you. He couldn’t stand the idea of that, not when you meant so damn much to him.

“I could never hate you,” he said firmly, his voice rough. “Don't even think for a second I could.”

He took a step forward, the urge to reach out and pull you into a hug almost overpowering. But he stopped himself, his hands clenching tightly at his sides.

You nodded for a moment and left.

He watched you walk away, his mind swirling with a million thoughts and emotions. The night felt unbearably long as he tried to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was your face.

The look in your eyes when you'd confessed your feelings, the hope, the fear, the vulnerability. It was seared into his memory, playing on repeat in his mind.

The next day felt like the longest damn day of his life. He went through the motions, going through his routine, meetings, calls, planning schedules, but he was on autopilot, his mind elsewhere.

His usual sharp focus was replaced by a constant, nagging awareness of you. He found himself stealing glances at his phone hoping you’d text, searching for your number in his contact list, thumb hovering the little call button, hesitating, even though he knew he needed time to process everything.

The hours dragged on, the weight of unspoken words and unprocessed emotions almost unbearable by the time evening finally rolled around. That night, as he drove to the same park, his thoughts were still a mess.

As soon as Lewis arrived, he spotted you from a distance, sitting under the same tree where you’d had your conversation the night before. The sight of you sent a jolt through his chest. He took a deep breath, steeling himself before walking over. His heart was hammering against his ribs, his mind a swarm of nervous thoughts.

He stopped a few feet away and simply stood there for a moment, his gaze fixed on you. "You waited for me."

“I arrived not too long ago,” you told him with a tired smile after a restless night, after your confession had consumed you with guilt the whole night.

He nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide the slight trembling. He took a deep breath before taking a seat next to you, on that same swing, settling down with a few inches of distance between you.

The quiet night air was filled with tension, a palpable weight settled over the two of you. He was acutely aware of your presence, hyper-aware of every move you made, every small intake of breath.

“So…?” You nudged him when the silence became unbearable.

He shifted, his eyes fixed on the grass beneath his shoes. The question hung in the air, and he knew he had to address the elephant in the room. He took another deep breath before finally looking up at you, his gaze steady despite the storm of emotions roiling inside.

"I've... I've been thinking about what you said last night."

He paused, choosing his next words carefully. He wanted to be honest with you, to lay his feelings bare, but he was scared of losing your friendship too, his feelings were all over the place and he wanted nothing but to reassure you, reassure you about how much you meant to him.

"It's a lot to process," he continued, his voice rough. "You... you surprised me, you know. I didn't..." He let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't think you'd ever feel that way about me."

“I know. I’ve been keeping it hidden.”

He looked at you, surprised by the admission. He'd had no idea you'd been keeping your feelings secret for a long time. “How long?” he asked quietly, unable to keep the question from his lips. "How long have you felt this way, and I was too blind to see?"

“A few months after my breakup four years ago. The support you offered me through my dark times… it meant so much. You’ve got no idea.”

He was taken aback by that response. Four years… four damn years, and he hadn't had a clue. He thought back to that period, the memory of your darker days, clinging to him like he was your life saving boat, letting him hold you to ease your heartache. He'd had no idea you'd been feeling something all along.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. All this time, you'd been harboring these feelings, and he'd been completely oblivious. It made him feel like an absolute idiot, like he'd missed the most obvious thing right in front of him. He clenched his jaw, his expression hardening with a mix of anger, frustration, and a pang of guilt.

"Four years...?" he repeated, his voice tight. "That's a long bloody time to keep something like that bottled up."

“I’m a pro,” You tried a silly joke, but your eyes watered.

The sight of your eyes watering, the sound of the tremor in your voice—it was almost his undoing. His heart clenched in his chest, the urge to reach out and pull you close nearly overwhelming him. He gritted his teeth, fighting against the wave of emotions threatening to spill over.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" he said gruffly, his voice thick with emotion. "Four years. Why the hell didn't you say something sooner?"

“You never gave any indication that you felt the same. And as of recently, you fell in love with that woman that rejected you… I… I don’t even know why I blurted it out last night.”

He sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration. He hated how damn right you were. He'd never shown any indication of returning your feelings, and then he'd gone and pined over someone else like a moron.

The irony of it all hit him like a truck, the realization of how blind he'd been. Having his heart broken by someone who didn’t reciprocate his feelings while doing the exact same to you.

His jaw clenched, his voice gruff and rough. "You blurted it out because you couldn't keep it in anymore, because it was eating you up inside," he said quietly. And he knew you, god, he did. He knew you well enough to know you were always one to keep to yourself and mature your ideas. He just never expected it to happen about him.

He shifted closer, closing a bit of the distance between you. The urge to reach out and take your hand was almost overwhelming, but he held himself back.

Lewis wanted to tell you everything, to make you understand how damn stupid he'd been. How he'd thrown away years worth of potential with you, focusing on someone who'd never wanted him in the first place. He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

"I was a fool. A complete and utter fool. I let myself get so wrapped up in someone who didn't even want me."

“It’s fine. I’m your friend, you had no obligation to see me as a potential romance,” You tried to comfort him.

He gritted his teeth, his jaw flexing with suppressed frustration. You were being too understanding, too damn reasonable, and it was killing him. He couldn't stand how easy you made it seem, how you were just willing to brush off your feelings and continue being friends, like it was nothing.

"It's not fine," he said firmly, his voice a low growl. "Stop trying to downplay it. You feel something for me. Something more than just friendship."

“I’m not the first and won’t be the last. It’s not a big deal.”

He clenched his fists, his frustration reaching a new level. How could you be so goddamn casual about it? It was infuriating. You were downplaying your feelings like they were insignificant.

"Stop it," he grated out, his jaw tight. "Don't you bloody tell me it's not a big deal. It is a big deal, damn it. You've been harboring feelings for me for four years, and you're acting like it's nothing?"

He wanted to shake some sense into you, to make you understand just how maddening your nonchalant attitude was. He wanted to shout, to tell you that it bloody well mattered. But instead, he forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to rein in his rising anger.

“Four years,” he repeated again, his voice a low, hard whisper. "You've felt like this for several damn years, and you've been bottling it up all this time, pretending it doesn't matter… and you have the audacity to tell me it's not a big deal."

“Why are you angry?”

He clenched his jaw, his irritation flaring up once more. He couldn't fathom how you could ask that question with a hint of innocent confusion in your eyes.

"Why am I angry?" he growled, the words coming out in a tight whisper. "You're asking me why I'm angry? Because you've been harboring feelings for me for four bloody years, and I've been too damn blind to even realize it. Because you've been suffering in silence, hiding your emotions like it doesn't matter."

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched across his features.

"You've been hurting, and what have I been doing? Pining after someone who doesn't want me. I've been chasing after a lost cause, while you've been here all this time, watching and hurting, and you still act like it's nothing. Nothing," he repeated, his tone growing more intense with each word.

“Your friendship means a lot to me, has always meant. And if I get to have a little bit of you through it, then so be it,” you whispered, like you were pleading, like you were afraid he’d end your friendship. But your reasoning only made him angrier.

Angry to find out he wasn’t as attuned to your emotions as he thought. Angry at himself for unknowingly hurting you while he pined for someone else and confided in you. Angry because he knew now things were changing forever.

The words felt like a stab to the goddamn heart. You were willing to settle for friendship, to take whatever scraps of his affection and attention you could get. It was maddening. He wanted to yell at you, to tell you that you deserved better. That he was a damn fool for not seeing what was right in front of him.

But instead, he gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching.

"You deserve more than a damn little bit of me. You deserve it all."

He shook his head, a bitter scoff leaving his lips.

"You're settling. You're settling for friendship when you should be demanding more, expecting more. I can't stand it… the way you're just… settling. Just taking what I'm willing to give you, because you think it's all you can get. It's bullshit. It's absolute bullshit."

You stood up, pacing before him, “I’m doing the best I can with the hand I was given.”

He watched you pace, his frustration growing even more. You were so damn resigned to your fate, accepting whatever scraps he happened to give you. He stood up too, his expression dark as he faced you.

"The best with the hand you were given," he repeated, his tone laced with bitter incredulity. "You're acting like you're trapped. Like you don't have any bloody choice. Like you're just a damn victim, forced to accept whatever I throw your way. It's bullshit, and you damn well know it."

“What’s the other choice, Lewis?!” You snapped at him, “Walking away? Abandoning the man I love?”

He stiffened, the sound of your voice cracking with emotion hitting him like a hammer to the chest.

"Yes! Yes, damn it!" he exploded, the words exploding out of him like a dam breaking. "That's the other option! Walking away, finding someone who would see you for who you are, who wouldn't treat you like a goddamn afterthought. Someone who would love you the way you goddamn deserve!"

You silenced, pressing your lips as his words landed right in your chest like a knife, “Is that it, then?”

The sight of your silent response, the way you recoiled at his words… it made his heart ache. But he couldn't back down now, not when he was finally airing his frustration. He took a step closer to you, closing the distance between you.

"Yes, damn it! Yes, that's it! Stop settling for scraps. Stop accepting whatever bullshit you get from me. You deserve someone who's going to put you first."

“And you won’t?” Your voice was small, the question hung in the air like a goddamn dagger, Lewis’ heart twisting in his chest.

He wanted to deny it, to protest, to say that hell yes, of course, he would put you first. But he couldn't. Not when he'd been such a damn fool, not when he'd been blind and stupid for so damn long. Not when he had already hurt you for so long. He looked away, clenching his jaw for a moment.

“No,” he finally answered, his voice coming out in a hoarse rasp. “I won't.”

You rubbed your forehead, nodding as your lips quivered. He watched you rub your forehead, the way your lips trembled betraying the pain you were trying to hide. Lewis wanted to reach out, to pull you into his arms and take away all your pain. But he didn't. He was the goddamn cause of it in the first place, the reason you were standing there, struggling to keep it together. Instead, he clenched his fists at his sides, silently cursing himself for being such a dumb ass.

The silence was swallowing you both whole, like a black hole sucking the light from your friendship right before your eyes. It hurt like a knife twisting. You had thought your worst heartbreak had been in the past, but now, as you watched your person slip away right between your fingers… that was a new low.

“Hope really was out of character for me, right?” You smiled, looking at the ground. Your attempt at a smile, the way you averted your eyes to the ground… it was like a punch in the gut. It hurt like hell, seeing you trying to put on a brave face when he knew he was tearing you apart.

He wanted to deny it, to say that hope wasn't out of character for you… but he knew it would be a lie. You never lied to each other, that was the rule. He gritted his teeth, the words coming out in a rough whisper.

"Yeah… hope's pretty out of character for you."

“I’m sorry I ruined everything,” You whispered, still holding yourself up, somehow, barely hanging on, “I’ll see you around.”

Lewis watched you walk away, his heart in goddamn shreds.

He wanted to reach out, to stop you before you disappeared… but he didn't. He just stood there, frozen in place, watching the one person he cared about the most walk away. Once you disappeared, he finally let out a ragged breath, grunting to himself in frustration.

And he knew, things would never be the same again. That's what hurt the most.

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #lh44 #team lh44 #lh44 imagine #lh44 x reader

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viennakarma · 6 days ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/viennakarma/786749471587532800/or-honedtly-she-should-be-like-where-sebastian?source=share

To be more evil, might I suggest Nico Rosberg.

GIRL (gn) that’s reader’s DAD 😆

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #fic talk #ask rae #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1

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viennakarma · 7 days ago

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OR HONEDTLY she should be like where sebastian vettel at. where jenson button at. she needs another sexy dilf (lewis honorary dilf)

BUT WAIT YES. A DILF who’d catch on that they were being used to make lewis jealous and they’d be having so much fun doing it jksjsjsksk

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #fic talk #ask rae #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #f1 #formula one

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viennakarma · 7 days ago

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i think making him jealous with someone else!! she should be cool and detached now, like i pushed your buttons and you pushed me away? cool :) where max verstappen at….

picking max is so evil of you (I love it 😈)

and when lewis gets jealous reader would go “oh, but he’s the age appropriate choice 😏”

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #fic talk #ask rae #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #f1 #formula one

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viennakarma · 7 days ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/viennakarma/786636532685635584/girl-jaw-is-on-the-floor-i-need-part-2-i-need-to?source=share

Ohhh yesss yesss pleaseee, make him beg for it he has to regret what he's done but make it a happy ending after all?😈🫣🫢

And if you wanna add smut to it we definitely are not complaining too girl you write it so goodddd😮‍💨🔥

Hmmmm do we like it angsty and all feels orrrrr reader being even more teasing and provocative? I feel like reader could go “oh, so you don’t want me? Let’s see how far I can push your buttons until you admit you do” sjskksks making him jealous with someone else? many ideas now

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #fic talk #ask rae #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton

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viennakarma · 8 days ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/viennakarma/786636532685635584/girl-jaw-is-on-the-floor-i-need-part-2-i-need-to?source=share

omg yes please and give us angst if possible. your angst are top notch

BAHAHAHA

-> me trying to feed you guys smut (accidentally sprinkling some angst)

-> you all wanting MORE angst

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #fic talk #ask rae #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #formula one #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you

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viennakarma · 8 days ago

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Girl jaw is on the floor, i need part 2 i need to know what we'll happen between them like i need him to pay bad for being a total ass towards her😩😩😩

should I do part 2?

Lewis really was kind of an asshole, that man was going through IT 🤣 but what do you guys wanna see?

Should reader get back at him 🤨

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #fic talk #ask rae #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton

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viennakarma · 9 days ago