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emjayewrites · 7 hours

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@yeea-nah aw thank you so much!

Paddock Princess (Lewis Hamilton/Monegasque Heiress!OC)(1/10)

SUMMARY: Before they were an item, they were enemies....

BASED ON: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Monegasque Heiress!OC Princess Diallo (faceclaim is Fanny Bourdette-Donon)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @mauvecherie-writes @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @omgsuperstarg @certifiedlesbianbaddie @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @motheroffae @hrlzy @sinflowersugar @hopefulromantic1 @vile-harlot @xoscar03 @blveeeeee @everywherea11thetime @blckgrl-sunflower @whoreforjjk @blowmymbackout

A/N: Slight change, I have pre-testing for the 2022 season in Bahrain, not Barcelona. Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore [Please comment & reblog]

Chapter I: Fuck You & Your Team

The golden Bahraini sunset cast a warm, radiant glow over the Bahrain International Circuit as dry desert winds carried the intoxicating scents of burnt rubber and adrenaline-fueled dreams. Pre-season testing was in full swing, ushering in the start of the exhilarating 2022 Formula 1 season with a symphony of roaring engines and that undeniable thrill of new beginnings.

The sleek, powerful racecars sat lined up in a perfect zig-zag formation on the tarmac, their steel bodies gleaming under the sun as if posing for a photoshoot. The aerodynamic curves and immaculate finishes silently awaited the skilled drivers who would soon bring them roaring back to life.

Leaning against the pit wall with an aura of casual confidence was Princess Diallo, resplendent in a tailored jumpsuit that clung to her curvaceous frame. Her coily tresses were tamed into a sleek ponytail as she surveyed the paddock through eyes that glinted with both mischief and smoldering intensity.

Princess's piercing gaze roamed over the scene before her, briefly pausing to study the photographer arranging the drivers next to their cars for a promotional shoot. A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at her full lips as she spotted the unmistakable figure of Lewis Hamilton, the celebrated British racing phenom.

Lewis strolled around the lined up cars, hands tucked behind his back as he studied each model, assessing the sleek new designs and mechanical upgrades with a discerning eye. Though his gaze was concealed behind mirrored sunglasses, Princess could sense his laser-sharp focus. His powerful presence commanded attention, an unmistakable aura of raw confidence and quiet strength.

As Lewis neared where Princess stood, she couldn't help but appreciate his striking appearance - the chiseled angles of his jawline, the lean musculature of his race suit-clad frame, the tall and powerfully built physique. An appreciative warmth bloomed low in her belly as her eyes raked over him.

"Princess," Lewis purred in greeting, her name rolling off his tongue like curling smoke. There was an edge of playful familiarity in his tone, coupled with the barest hint of challenge that she found utterly enthralling.

"Lewis," she replied, pitching her melodious voice into a tone of easy nonchalance despite the way her pulse kicked up a notch. Her Monégasque accent caressed the syllables as she met his veiled stare head-on.

The fiercely independent heiress whose presence at the circuit was as commanding as the cars themselves and Lewis couldn't help but take in her appearance - round cheeks adorned with adorable dimples and almond-shaped brown eyes that seemed to sparkle with mischief. Her body was a work of art, smooth and flawless in its terracotta complexion, accentuated with curves that could make any man weak in the knees.

The winter hiatus had done little to diffuse the sparks between them. If anything, the memory of their last heated encounter at the FIA Prize-Giving Gala only stoked the flames of their exhilarating rivalry. He had mistakenly flirted with her, and she had projected her anger at him, still upset about her father's recent meddling. The evening took a sharp turn when her father, who had just secured a major stake in the Alpine F1 team as well as half-ownership of luxury watchmaker IWC, introduced them later that night. What was once a dazzling event now left a bitter taste in her mouth, serving as a constant reminder of the divide between them that felt insurmountable.

The air seemed to crackle with an electric charge as Lewis closed the distance between them. Though his physical proximity should have put her on edge, Princess found herself drawn to him, a moth to the flame. She couldn't help being acutely aware of the IWC watch adorning his wrist - a reminder of her father's increasingly intersecting business interests with Lewis' own endorsements. It made their encounter feel all the more charged, weighted with professional consequences in addition to their personal rivalry.

"I see your father is making good on his investment," commented Lewis as he gestured to Alpine's car behind him.

Princess lifted her chin defiantly. "My father's money may have bought Alpine a fancy new car, but it still doesn't buy success on the track."

A sardonic smirk curved Lewis's lips as he slowly lowered his sunglasses, pinning Princess with a smoldering look from under the shadowed brim. "So the new engineer Alpine hired is the real star of the show, is that it?"

Lewis knew exactly which buttons to push to rile her up - that was his speciality after all, this delicious game of provocation and one-upmanship.

"Maybe," she countered silkily.

His gaze slowly raked over her jumpsuit-clad figure in a subtle once-over that had Princess's stomach fluttering. "Let me guess...Gucci?"

"Chloe, actually." Princess felt a smug satisfaction that he didn't recognize the label. "I thought you were supposed to be a fashion icon?"

Leaning in until his smoldering whiskey-brown eyes filled her vision, Lewis chuckled deep in his throat - a low, thrilling sound. "Among other things. Though I suppose it's only fair that you try to keep up with me in some areas."

The arrogant comment immediately deflated Princess' brief sense of superiority, causing her to scoff loudly. "You did not just imply I need to keep up with you. If anything, you should be watching your back."

"Is that a promise?" Lewis's voice dropped to a low, provocative rumble that sent sparks of heated awareness ricocheting through Princess's body. He took one deliberate step closer, firmly invading her personal space. "Because you know how I live for a challenge, Princess."

The combination of his darkly teasing words and sudden, overwhelming proximity made Princess's pulse kick up despite her best efforts. She could feel the scorching heat of his body mere inches from her own, the heady masculine scent of his skin surrounding her in a dizzying cloud. Rallying her composure, Princess tilted her chin and met his molten stare head-on, refusing to be flustered.

"Believe me, Lewis," she murmured, allowing just a hint of breathiness to color her tone. "Keeping you on your toes this season is just the start." Princess willed herself not to look away first from the simmering promise in those rich whiskey depths. She could drown in the banked embers of desire burning there if she wasn't careful. "By the time we're through, we plan to utterly decimate you and Mercedes."

A ghost of an infuriatingly smug smile curved Lewis's sensual lips at her bold declaration. "So Alpine thinks they finally have what it takes to run with the big dogs this year, huh?" He feigned an exaggerated look of surprise that made Princess's teeth grit together. "Those are some awfully big words for someone of your..." His gaze flickered overtly down to her petite frame in a deliberate once-over, "...stature."

The derisive undercurrent in his deep chuckle alongside the dismissive once-over of her body made Princess's temper flare hotly. She refused to be baited so easily, however. Arching one sculpted brow, she returned his mockery with pointed relish.

"Funny, that's rich coming from you...little man," she quipped, allowing her own stare to roam meaningfully over his 5'9" height in a shameless head-to-toe examination.

Lewis' dark eyes glittered with something that looked perilously close to respect? Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking on her part. Still, she could have sworn she saw his lips twitch, as if fighting a smile.

Princess smirked inwardly - she was already getting under his skin.

He wet his lips slowly, his tongue darting out to moisten them as he continued to hold Princess' smoldering gaze. "I'm going to hold you to that, Princess," he murmured in a bedroom voice that had her stomach doing somersaults. "And when you fail to live up to that pretty trash talk...well, let's just say I'll enjoy making you eat those words. I like to do all the talking on the track."

"Alright everyone, let’s line up!" called the photographer, breaking the spell between Lewis and Princess. Lewis gave her a wink before stepping away to join the other drivers, and Princess couldn't tear her eyes away from his retreating form. His parting words echoed in her mind, simultaneously taunting and tantalizing.

Just who did he think he was, looking at her like that? Talking to her like that? As if she were the kind of woman who would swoon at a few heated glances and a bedroom voice?

Except part of her had swooned,even just a little. Against her better judgment, she found Lewis utterly magnetic when he dialed up the charm offensive. Those molten eyes, that self-assured swagger, the intoxicating mix of arrogance.

It was maddening, really, how effortlessly he could get under her skin. Just minutes ago, she'd been ready to claw his eyes out after that short jab. Princess shook her head minutely, appalled at herself. This heated rivalry with Lewis was proving to be more dangerous than she'd anticipated because she was uncomfortably attracted to her own nemesis.

But two could play at the game of casual flirtation and thinly veiled double entendres. Lewis may have issued the opening salvo, but Princess was never one to back down from a challenge.

Lewis' thoughts consumed him as he posed for pictures with his fellow drivers. He should’ve seen it coming, really. Their chemistry had been crackling with unresolved tension from the moment they laid eyes on each other again. Like a live wire, just waiting to detonate with the slightest provocation.

And Princess had well and truly provoked him.

Running a hand through his braids, Lewis exhaled a shaky breath. Who names their kid "Princess" and doesn't expect them to grow up to be an entitled arrogant brat? Certainly, her attitude and bold flirtations lived up to that pretentious moniker.

And yet, Lewis couldn't deny the undercurrent of thrilling attraction simmering within him. He prided himself on keeping his cool, on never allowing an attractive woman to rattle his composure so thoroughly, but Princess, she was operating on another level entirely. With her quick wit, her refusal to be cowed, and that alluring mix of elegance and fiery determination.

Part of him recognized how utterly infuriating her behavior was - the sense of superiority, that practiced smile filled with blatant provocation. She didn't just get under his skin - she burrowed her way straight into his bloodstream, setting him alight in a way he hadn't experienced in years, maybe ever.

Who would’ve thought that a little heiress would drive up this much drama?

The thrill of their rivalry felt wildly intoxicating, like chasing a contact high more addictive than any podium finish, but it was also incredibly dangerous territory.

He knew he had to tread carefully — Princess's father signed his checks as an ambassador for IWC watches, which meant playing fair with her was a non-negotiable, yet he could tell it would be a difficult tightrope to walk. Allowing himself to be drawn into Princess' games based on their little rivalry and a simple physical attraction could prove disastrous for his focus and drive this season.

Lewis had been looking forward to this Formula 1 season as a chance to reaffirm his greatness on the track. Now, he realized the real challenge - the one that would test the limits of his self-control and dedication - would be going head-to-head with the force of nature that was Princess Diallo.

He should leave her alone entirely, focus all his energy on racing and tuning out the dizzying spiral of desire and competition she drew him into. Staying the course, keeping his eye on the prize of another championship, however, even as the logical side of his brain reasoned this out, Lewis knew it was already too late. Princess had gotten her claws into him, and as much as he tried to ignore her, he was powerless to resist rising to her delicious bait.

A slow, lopsided grin curved his lips as he straightened his posture. If Princess wanted to play, he was game.

After all, he thought with a mixture of trepidation and dark excitement, what was a little anticipation between rivals?

The gloves were off this season, in more ways than one. Lewis fully intended to give as good as he got from Princess - both on and off the track.

So, she wanted to up the ante? Challenge accepted.

The Bahrain Grand Prix paddock was a whirlwind of activity as the 2022 Formula One season officially kicked off. Mechanics hustled about making final adjustments, while drivers went through their pre-race rituals amid a cacophony of roaring engines and the excited murmurs of fans.

Lewis strode through the chaos, doing his best to retain his laser focus. He couldn't afford any distractions, any chinks in his renowned concentration.

Of course, the universe seemed determined to test his resolve in that regard. Because loitering by his team's garage, clad in artfully distressed denim and a slinky pink top that left little to the imagination, was his new personal siren, Princess.

Lewis took a deep breath, pushing any thoughts of Princess out of his mind and focusing on the race ahead. But as he approached the garage, she strolled over to him with a deliberate sway of her hips that almost made his heart skip a beat.

"G'morning," she purred as she got closer, openly ogling him with appreciation. "Ready for another exciting season?"

Lewis felt an unwelcome surge of attraction at her tone and the intense desire in her eyes. He couldn't decide whether to shut her down or pull her close and —

No.

He cut off that dangerous train of thought, squaring his shoulders.

"You're really testing the limits of that 'umbrella girl' role your father gave you, aren't you?" he said dryly, attempting to keep his voice steady.

Princess' ruby-red lips didn't twist into a contrite expression. Instead, they curved into a slow, wicked smile. She spoke in a low tone, her voice dropping an octave as she said, "Surely you have better jokes than the tired ‘poor little rich girl’ bit?" She raised an eyebrow and added, "And really...is this what I should expect from someone of your age? Old jokes for old men?"

Lewis arched an eyebrow, refusing to let her baiting get the best of him, as he willed his gaze not to drop below her clavicle. This little game she was playing, it was extremely unhelpful mere minutes before he needed to be 100% focused.

"What I think," he replied carefully, reining in his impulse to either silence her with his lips or snap a scathing retort, "is that you need to find someplace else to be well before the race starts."

"Oh, really?" Princess arched one sculpted brow, undeterred. "I'll be wherever I want to be," she said confidently. "And right now, I want to be here."

"I don't think you understand," he said, his tone hardening. "This is my career, my livelihood. And I don't have time right now to play your games. "

Princess tilted her head back, laughing lightly. "Oh Lewis, don't be so dramatic," she teased. "I'm just here to enjoy the race like everyone else. Can't a girl have a good time? Besides, I could’ve sworn that you promised to have me 'eat my words' yesterday? Trouble in paradise with you and Merc? Are you afraid that my team will one-up you for the Constructors' Championship?"

"Don’t get ahead of yourself now," Lewis said with an eye roll. "When the day comes of Alpine ever exceeding me and my team for a Constructors’ Championship is the day I retire."

"You promise?"

"Hell no," Lewis replied with a teasing smile. "I still have a few more racing years left."

Princess scoffed, crossing her arms. "You're just scared that Alpine has a chance this year," she said proudly.

Lewis couldn't resist the opportunity to prove her wrong. He leaned in close, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered, "I promise you, Alpine will never be a threat to us."

Princess shivered at his words, feeling the heat of his breath against her skin. Her heart fluttered in response and she pushed away from him, trying to hide her reaction.

"You can't make promises like that," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I can and I will," Lewis replied confidently.

Princess bit her lip, torn between wanting to continue their verbal sparring and fleeing from the confusing feelings Lewis stirred inside her. Before she could make a decision, there was a loud announcement over the loudspeaker for all non-essential personnel to clear the track before the race began.

"Well," Princess said with a forced smile, "looks like we'll have to continue this conversation after we kick your team's ass on the track. I do love watching a grown man struggle..."

Lewis shook his head with an amused smile. "You really are relentless, aren’t you?"

"It’s a quality my father always admired."

Turning on her heel, she tossed one last heated look over her shoulder, "Good luck, I guess."

"Good luck to you too," Lewis murmured to himself as he watched as she sauntered away, her hips swaying exaggeratedly as she disappeared into the crowd. He couldn't understand why this woman affected him so much, but he needed to focus on the race, not get caught up in some petty competition with her.

He could not let some spoiled rich girl shake his concentration, especially not during this season.

But fuck, did she have to move her hips like that? Wear that small-ass shirt?

Now instead of being focused on the race, he was more inclined to be buried deep between her legs.

This fuckin' lil' heiress, man, will be the death of me.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

#paddock princess #emjayewrites #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black!reader #timezone reblog

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emjayewrites · 9 hours

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Paddock Princess (Lewis Hamilton/Monegasque Heiress!OC)(1/10)

SUMMARY: Before they were an item, they were enemies....

BASED ON: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Monegasque Heiress!OC Princess Diallo (faceclaim is Fanny Bourdette-Donon)

Chapter I: Fuck You & Your Team

"I see your father is making good on his investment," commented Lewis as he gestured to Alpine's car behind him.

Princess lifted her chin defiantly. "My father's money may have bought Alpine a fancy new car, but it still doesn't buy success on the track."

Lewis knew exactly which buttons to push to rile her up - that was his speciality after all, this delicious game of provocation and one-upmanship.

"Maybe," she countered silkily.

His gaze slowly raked over her jumpsuit-clad figure in a subtle once-over that had Princess's stomach fluttering. "Let me guess...Gucci?"

"Chloe, actually." Princess felt a smug satisfaction that he didn't recognize the label. "I thought you were supposed to be a fashion icon?"

"Funny, that's rich coming from you...little man," she quipped, allowing her own stare to roam meaningfully over his 5'9" height in a shameless head-to-toe examination.

Princess smirked inwardly - she was already getting under his skin.

Just who did he think he was, looking at her like that? Talking to her like that? As if she were the kind of woman who would swoon at a few heated glances and a bedroom voice?

But two could play at the game of casual flirtation and thinly veiled double entendres. Lewis may have issued the opening salvo, but Princess was never one to back down from a challenge.

And Princess had well and truly provoked him.

Who would’ve thought that a little heiress would drive up this much drama?

The thrill of their rivalry felt wildly intoxicating, like chasing a contact high more addictive than any podium finish, but it was also incredibly dangerous territory.

A slow, lopsided grin curved his lips as he straightened his posture. If Princess wanted to play, he was game.

After all, he thought with a mixture of trepidation and dark excitement, what was a little anticipation between rivals?

The gloves were off this season, in more ways than one. Lewis fully intended to give as good as he got from Princess - both on and off the track.

So, she wanted to up the ante? Challenge accepted.

Lewis strode through the chaos, doing his best to retain his laser focus. He couldn't afford any distractions, any chinks in his renowned concentration.

"G'morning," she purred as she got closer, openly ogling him with appreciation. "Ready for another exciting season?"

Lewis felt an unwelcome surge of attraction at her tone and the intense desire in her eyes. He couldn't decide whether to shut her down or pull her close and —

No.

He cut off that dangerous train of thought, squaring his shoulders.

"You're really testing the limits of that 'umbrella girl' role your father gave you, aren't you?" he said dryly, attempting to keep his voice steady.

"Oh, really?" Princess arched one sculpted brow, undeterred. "I'll be wherever I want to be," she said confidently. "And right now, I want to be here."

"I don't think you understand," he said, his tone hardening. "This is my career, my livelihood. And I don't have time right now to play your games. "

"Don’t get ahead of yourself now," Lewis said with an eye roll. "When the day comes of Alpine ever exceeding me and my team for a Constructors’ Championship is the day I retire."

"You promise?"

"Hell no," Lewis replied with a teasing smile. "I still have a few more racing years left."

Princess scoffed, crossing her arms. "You're just scared that Alpine has a chance this year," she said proudly.

Lewis couldn't resist the opportunity to prove her wrong. He leaned in close, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered, "I promise you, Alpine will never be a threat to us."

Princess shivered at his words, feeling the heat of his breath against her skin. Her heart fluttered in response and she pushed away from him, trying to hide her reaction.

"You can't make promises like that," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I can and I will," Lewis replied confidently.

"Well," Princess said with a forced smile, "looks like we'll have to continue this conversation after we kick your team's ass on the track. I do love watching a grown man struggle..."

Lewis shook his head with an amused smile. "You really are relentless, aren’t you?"

"It’s a quality my father always admired."

Turning on her heel, she tossed one last heated look over her shoulder, "Good luck, I guess."

He could not let some spoiled rich girl shake his concentration, especially not during this season.

But fuck, did she have to move her hips like that? Wear that small-ass shirt?

Now instead of being focused on the race, he was more inclined to be buried deep between her legs.

This fuckin' lil' heiress, man, will be the death of me.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

#paddock princess #emjayewrites #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black!reader #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton x oc

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emjayewrites · 11 hours

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Fuck A Title (Lewis Hamilton x Black!Fem Reader) (1/5)

SYNOPSIS: Lewis and his former FWB try to navigate the murky waters of being official.

PAIRINGS: Lewis Hamilton x black!fem reader

WARNINGS: cursing, sexual content, angst, racing vroom vroom stuff. RATED R (minors DNI/18+)

SONG REFERENCE: "Title" by Kiana Lede

A/N: Not back fr, but had this in my drafts for a minute, so..... [Please comment & reblog]

You sucked in a sharp breath as Lewis pulled you flush against his rock-hard body, his intoxicating male musk enveloping her. "Damn, Lew..." you husked out as his full lips trailed searing kisses along your neck.

Lewis rumbled a low chuckle against you skin, the gravelly timbre shooting tingles along her spine. "You know you want to stay." His mouth found hers, kissing her with a slow, hungry intensity.

"I can’t," you mutter as you arched shamelessly against the solid wall of muscle, whimpering into the heated kiss. These intimate nights used to be your steamy little secret - just two badass workaholics blowing off steam as commitment-free FWBs whenever you craved each other's bodies.

"I'll have your breakfast waiting in the morning, baby girl," Lewis purred in that panty-melting accent, charming and rugged all at once. "Let me take care of you like you deserve."

Your thoughts went to last season; it was stress-free, almost reminiscent of an endless vacation with you being flown out to see Lewis at some of his races — Monaco, Japan, Las Vegas, and Abu Dhabi, to name a few. There was also that two-week getaway to Turkey during summer break with his close guy friends.

But nothing could ever prepare you for how quickly things changed between you and Lewis. Just a few weeks ago, he wanted to make things official.

You blame that Brazilian girl. Jackie, Josie, Julia-something-or-the-other. Lewis's other sidepiece. The one who didn't know how to be discreet.

She's been kicking it with Lewis and his inner circle since 2019, and their off-and-on cycle can put anyone's head in a tailspin.

But, it wasn't your problem to deal with.

As messed up and unusual as it may sound, you knew what you had with Lewis. The conversations were always on par, the sex was bomb, and his friends were nice.

It wasn't until JuJu leaked his whereabouts to a tabloid journalist during his winter getaway to Brazil that Lewis finally put the nail in the coffin for whatever situation they had, and in return, it was you whom he had invited to join him in Paris, testing in Bahrain, and even a race in Saudi Arabia. It was you who he eventually grew close with, closer than what you envisioned, causing him to have an epiphany or midlife crisis moment, but he wanted you for some reason.

You and only you.

Against your shot-caller instincts, you had agreed to try monogamy with your long-time friends-with-benefits partner, yet could you really live up to the ride-or-die girlfriend role?

In the racing world, Lewis was F1 royalty - the kind of megastar talent that sparked a panty parade from groupies with each arrival. At thirty-nine years old, the British race monster had already stacked up multiple championship wins, the insane looks of a cologne model, and a net worth balling enough to buy a private island.

Cradled against his frame, you almost forgot your doubts about your newly-minted relationship status.

Almost.

Lewis was a whole meal with his tattooed body: wide shoulders, chiseled chest and biceps, and a tempting vee that disappeared beneath his form-fitting Tommy Hilfiger briefs. It almost felt criminal for one man to be so incredibly attractive.

"You're doing it again," that baritone washed over you as Lewis smirked knowingly. "Getting thirsty for me. This is why you need to stay." He flexed his pecs in a ludicrous muscle-man pose, making you throw back your head and laugh.

"Bye, Lewis," you shot back, eyes sparkling with mirth as you ran an admiring hand along his sculpted torso. "My mind was on work."

The lie was smooth, but he knew better.

"You think about work more than I do," Lewis chuckled richly, catching your roaming hand to tug you close once more. His skin glowed temptingly in the dim light, and you felt your resistance swiftly melting as his lips crashed into yours again. He tasted like your ultimate indulgence. But soon, much too soon, Lewis drew back with obvious reluctance. "Best not keep tempting me, baby girl. Let me walk you to your car like a good boyfriend."

And there it was - that word reminding you of your new reality. Boyfriend.

Swallowing hard, you began gathering your scattered clothes. "I should really go," she said, aiming for a breezy tone that fell flat even to your own ears. "But raincheck on the morning cuddles and all that, yeah? I've got an early call time."

Lewis watched you with that panty-dropping stare, shaking his head in fond exasperation. "Will you call me when you get to work at least?"

"Of course," you replied, sliding into your dress and avoiding his intense gaze. "I'll see you later," you said with a forced smile before turning and making your way out of the bedroom.

Like a dog to a bone, Lewis followed closely behind in nothing but his briefs and that all-too-obvious aroused bulge that he proudly sported. Bending over to put on your heels, you flinched slightly at the unexpected touch from behind.

His hands flattened against your spine, trailing downwards until it reached your hips before settling on your ass.

With a sharp intake of breath, you turned around to face him, eyes wide with shock and arousal as his fingers squeezed the plump flesh of your backside. "You can’t just grab me like that," you protested weakly, even as your body leaned into his touch.

A devilish grin crossed Lewis’ face. "But you like it," he murmured huskily, gazing down at you with hooded eyes. "You sure I can't convince you to stay?"

"Nope."

Lewis pouted playfully, his hands still lingering on your hips as he leaned in for one last kiss. "Fine," he sighed dramatically, before pressing his lips to your forehead and releasing you with a parting slap on your ass. "I'll see you later, then."

You grinned up at him as you straightened your dress and made your way towards the front door. "Bye, Lewis," you called over your shoulder.

As soon as you stepped outside into the cool London air, reality hit hard. Your mind was a cyclone of emotions.

Why were you still craving the easy detachment of your previous arrangement? Surely you were just going through an adjustment period of cold feet. A big part of you felt skittish about going from independent and free to somebody's boo'd up ball-and-chain, especially with someone who equally enjoyed working as you did. Though you weren’t on Lewis' level of fame, you still had clout as a fashion stylist and worked with prominent magazines, such as Vogue and Vanity Fair. You faced plenty of trials and trepidations in your life, yet navigating this new realm of commitment would be your ultimate challenge.

The drive to your hotel was quiet, with your mind filled with thoughts of Lewis and the budding relationship between the two of you. Shaking off those thoughts for now, you focused on reaching the hotel safely and getting some rest before another long day on set tomorrow.

The next morning came far too soon for your liking. Despite having only slept for a few hours due to work calls and texts from Lewis throughout the night (something he did often but never seemed to tire), you dragged yourself out of bed when your alarm blared loudly.

After a quick shower and a strong cup of coffee, you were dressed and ready to head to the set for another long day of styling. As you arrived at the location, you were greeted by familiar faces - the models, photographers, and other crew members whom you had worked with countless times before in the last couple of months. You were currently on a six-month contract for Schön! and even though there was some shoots that required long work days, you appreciated the flexibility of the work.

Everyone was scurrying around, setting up equipment and making last minute adjustments before the shoot began. You made your way over to the fashion rack where designer clothing was carefully organized and ready to be styled on the models.

"Morning, Y/N!" A voice called out from across the room.

You turned to see one of your bosses, Tara, walking towards you with a smile on her face.

"Hey, Tara," you replied. "How's it going?"

"It's going good," she said, glancing around at the busy set. "Looks like another long day ahead of us."

You both chuckled, knowing that long days were just part of the job.

"So, what are we working with today?" Tara asked curiously as she looked over at the fashion rack.

"A mix of high-end brands and some vintage pieces," you replied, pulling out a beautiful Dior dress from its garment bag. "I'm excited to see how this looks on one of our models."

Tara nodded in agreement before getting pulled away by one of the photographers who needed her assistance. You went back to organizing and styling the clothes for each look on your mood board.

As the day went on, you couldn't help but feel a little distracted by the constant buzzing of your phone. Every few minutes, another text from Lewis would come through, each one more persistent than the last.

"Come with me to Australia," one read. "I'll book your flights."

"Wasn't it your fantasy to be bent over the railing of a hotel overlooking Hobsons Bay?" another said.

You sighed as you set your phone down on the table next to you, trying to focus on the task at hand. The shoot was going smoothly but with every text from Lewis, it became harder and harder to concentrate.

One thing was for sure: this nigga was extremely persistent.

You couldn't deny that a trip to Australia sounded tempting - it had been on your bucket list for years now. But at the same time, it wasn't practical for you to just drop everything and go away for an undetermined amount of time.

Or could you? an intrusive thought bubbled in your head. The ho' side of yourself was speaking, coming out from the depths of her hoeness cave. It often appeared whenever Lewis was involved, and let's be honest, it was probably the reason why you found yourself in this weird ass situation in the first place.

Think about that tongue of his, girl! ‘Member how he had you walking funny for three days straight after finishing in eighth place?!

You couldn't forget it, as it would always be ingrained in the fiber of your very being. You enjoyed seeing Lewis angry, especially when there was a mistake during race weekend. Not that you blamed him for losing, as the car wasn't up to par, but he had a unique way of channeling his anger through sexual pleasure.

A familiar shiver ran down your spine as you hit send on a three-letter response to him.

Well, there goes the idea of keeping my distance and any modicum of self-respect.

Bitch, you know you can't resist that dick, quipped your inner ho.

And as usual, she was correct.

The hotel didn't have a direct view of Hobsons Bay, but the Yarra River and Botanical Gardens could still be seen from the balcony. It was nighttime, and as Lewis moved in a steady rhythm, your vision may not have been top-notch, but the sparkling city lights served as a focal point amidst the familiar feeling building up in your pelvic region, signaling an imminent orgasm.

You couldn't help but moan loudly as Lewis hit that spot inside of you that always made you lose control. He had you bent over the railing, one hand gripping your hip while the other played with your aching nodule. Each thrust sent bolts of pleasure shooting through your body.

"Fuck," he grunted in your ear. "You feel so good."

You couldn't respond, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. As his pace quickened, your moans grew louder and more desperate. The height from the penthouse's balcony was both terrifying and exhilarating, deafening in its intensity. It was a common choice for him whenever he visited Australia, as if being that high up meant less chance of encountering any spiders.

Just as you were about to reach your climax, Lewis stopped to bend down to bury his face in your core, working that sinful mouth of his. Your legs began to tremble as two of his fingers pushed inside you, matching the movements of his tongue.

He had always been a master at eating pussy, and it didn't take long for you to reach your climax. You cried out his name as waves of ecstasy washed over you, leaving you breathless and satisfied. Lewis stood up, a smug grin on his face as he saw the effect he had on you. He turned you around to kiss you deeply, tasting your own essence on his lips.

"You're still the best I've ever had," he whispered against your lips.

After catching your breath, you put a smirk on your face. "That's because I am the best," you teased.

"You’re right 'bout that," he concurred, leading you to the patio couch.

He sat next to you, his hands running up your sides and causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the sensation of his hands on your body.

"You always know how to make me feel good," you murmured.

"I aim to please," he replied with a wicked grin, before leaning in to kiss you again.

Without breaking the kiss, Lewis maneuvered you so you were now straddling his lap. His lips moved down your neck, causing shivers to run down your spine. Your hands roamed his muscular back, feeling every ridge and dip of his body.

His hands traveled to your hips, guiding them as you began to grind against him. The friction between your bodies was building a delicious heat, making it hard for you both to control yourselves.

"God, I need you," he growled against your skin.

You moaned in response, eagerly meeting his lips again. Lewis thrust upwards, filling you to the hilt and causing a soft gasp to escape your lips. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you leaned back slightly and rocked your hips faster against his. The pressure was building between the two of you and it was becoming harder to keep quiet. Your nails raked across his skin and he hissed in pain.

"Mmm...easy there, baby girl," he rumbled out a low warning, giving your earlobe a gentle nip of reproach. "Can't have you mauling me before the big race this weekend. Need to look pretty for my adoring fans."

You scoffed and ground harder against him in sweet retaliation, making him curse roughly. "Please, I'll mark you up anyway I want," you husked.

Lewis chuckled and tightened his grip on your waist, holding you still as he thrust up into you with more force. Your head fell back in pleasure, a loud moan escaping your lips.

"Jesus Christ," he groaned, his movements becoming more frenzied as he chased his own release. He reached between your bodies to stimulate your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, along with your moans and Lewis' low curses.

"That’s my girl takin' this dick so well," he croons softly. "You’re so fuckin' wet, baby. You like this dick, huh? This yours?"

Lewis' words only spurred you on, as you continued to ride him with reckless abandon. The pleasure was building inside of you, threatening to consume you completely.

"You know it's mine," you gasped out, your nails digging into his shoulders. "No one else's."

"Damn right," Lewis growled, his own release approaching fast. He gripped your hips tighter and slammed into you one last time, pushing you both over the edge.

Your walls clenched around him like a vice as you came undone, screaming his name as he followed suit shortly after.

Panting and sweating, the two of you collapsed onto the couch in a tangled heap. Lewis held you close, kissing your forehead gently.

"You're amazing," Lewis murmured, voice rough with satiated desire. His arms tightened around you, pulling your flushed body flush against his sweat-sheened skin.

You hummed out a breathless laugh, nuzzling your face against the solid warmth of his chest. "So are you."

For a long while, the two of you simply held each other close, basking in the post-coital glow. Lewis traced idle patterns across the exposed skin of your back, his touch reverent and tender.

Finally, with obvious reluctance, Lewis stirred beneath you.

"As much as I hate to move right now, we should probably get cleaned up."

The two of you stood up, still tangled in each other's embrace, and made your way to the bathroom. Lewis turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature before pulling you under the warm spray with him.

You leaned back against his chest, feeling content and blissful as he washed your body with slow, gentle movements. His hands lingered on your curves and crevices, eliciting soft moans from you.

"I could get used to this," Lewis murmured against your neck, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot behind your ear.

You chuckled and turned around in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck. "Me too."

And even though you are apprehensive, there is no denying that Lewis was still the best thing in your world, but it all can't be butterflies and rainbows...

TO BE CONTINUED.....

#emjayewrites #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black!reader #formula one!black reader #formula one x black reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fanfiction

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emjayewrites · 1 day

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for fanfic writers and readers

as a black girl who loves a lot of different movies and shows, fanfic allows me to read stories that put me in the middle of my favorite things. however, fanfic often (unintentionally) excludes girls who look like me.

i am so sick and tired of reading a fanfiction and having to rewrite it in my brain because a character description immediately implies that the reader is white. if you don't know what i mean, here are some examples.

"your skin turned pink" or "you blushed": black girls and women with darker skin tones CANNOT blush. our skin does not just turn pink

"pulled your hair into a messy bun": my 4a hair cannot be pulled into a messy bun at random. i may be able to do a ponytail if i have braids in, and i might be able to tie it up if I have an old twist-out, but a "messy bun" is often not possible.

"he ran his hands through your hair": yeah...unless my hair is in a silk press (and an OLD silk press), that's not happening

there are a plethora of other examples that would make this post insanely long, so let me get to the point. there are very easy ways to make fanfic a bit more inclusive; all you have to do is tweak a few character descriptions. OR, put in your pairing or warnings that the reader is implied to be white.

and finally: please, please stop tagging your DARK fanfictions "xblack!reader." i am tired of searching for fluff under the black reader tag and finding non-con, dark themes, etc., ESPECIALLY when the fic ends up being for a white reader💀.

the goal of my page is to create a safe space for black girls who love reading fanfiction. i am only one person, so if you'd like to help, here are some ways to do that!

send me fics (preferably marvel and stranger things to start) that are with a black reader

comment some other things in fanfics that imply that the reader is white or that make the fic a little less accessible

REBLOG FICS BY BLACK WRITERS

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emjayewrites · 19 days

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How to Leave Comments on Fanfiction

So, I recently made a poll to know if people might find it helpful to have a list of things they could talk about when leaving comments on fanfictions, be it on Ao3 or on here. A majority of people were interested in seeing the post so, well, I'm making it. I started writing and posting stuff online when I was a teenager, on a website where leaving constructive criticism was the norm. It's by far the place where I've gotten the most feedback and it was an incredibly formative experience for me as a young writer — and it taught me how to leave detailed comments.

Writing comments doesn't necessarily come easy. It's something that you may need to learn how to do, but the good news is that you can learn how to do it, so don't worry if you don't know what to say at first. Hopefully this list will give you some pointers on how to do that.

This is more or less the list I go through when I want to leave a detailed comment. Even if I don't have a specific idea at first, I'll go through the steps and I never come out empty-handed.

Comment etiquette:

What became apparent with the poll I made was that a lot of people worry about how they'll be perceived by the writers if they leave a comment. Now, obviously, writers aren't a monolith, but 99% of the time writers will be thrilled that you took the time to leave a comment to let them know what you enjoyed in their fic. I cannot stress this enough. We're not going to judge someone based on a positive comment they leave.

As it stands, on Tumblr and Ao3, it's seen as rude to leave negative feedback, unless the author has explicitly asked for it/agreed to it, so that's what I'll be going over here. Since quite a few writers did say on that post that they would like to get constructive comments as well, stay tuned, I'm trying to get something together to do that for authors. Other than that, you're good to go.

The main ways to let an author know your thoughts on a fic on Tumblr are:

reblogging a fic with your thoughts underneath it

reblogging with your thoughts in the tags, which is often less formal

leaving a comment as a 'reaction'

sending in an ask if they're activated on the blog (which means you can stay anonymous, if anon asks are allowed)

Reblogging means that your followers will see the post as well, and is therefore really appreciated on Tumblr.

As a note, you may find different systems work for different fics! Maybe leaving tag rambles works for you when commenting on drabbles, for example for me it's the system I use to leave comments on smut.

General advice:

Everything I'm saying in here is for people who want to be able to leave longer/more detailed comments and don't always know where to start. If, for whatever reason, you're not comfortable or you don't have time to do it at the moment, a simple "I love the fic, thank you for writing it" always goes a long way for an author.

The key thing to keep in mind if you're trying to find something else to say, I think, is to try making the comment specific to the fic you're leaving it on. It shows the writer what you took away from the fic and the fic's strong points, which is both meaningful and helpful to an author.

Comments don't have to be long to be meaningful. Don't stress about writing a ton; a one-sentence comment highlighting the fic's humor or how emotional it made you can be incredibly impactful.

With this out of the way, I'll go through things you can talk about in a comment, starting with what I think is the easiest and moving on to things that could require more thought. You don't have to do all of that. You may never use some of the things on that list. Leaving comments should not be a source of anxiety. So take what you want from the list, maybe come back to it if you need more inspiration, and don't worry too much about it :)

Favorite line(s) : pull from the fic to let the author know what your favorite line was. If you wish, you can expand on that by saying why it was your favorite: did it make you laugh? Did it make you feel something specific? Did the author nail the characterization with it? Was there some incredible metaphor? Did you find it beautiful or poetic even if you can't go into detail? Is there one line in particular at the beginning of the fic that hooked you in and made you want to keep reading?

All of that is very valuable for a writer to know. Some of my favorite comments I've gotten were a list of a reader's favorite lines from a fic with one or two sentences to explain why they liked them, so don't hesitate to do that more than once if you can!

Emotions: if there’s one thing I know about writers, it’s that we’re thrilled when we’ve made you cry. So tell us: how did the writing make you feel? Did you laugh out loud? If you did, was it the dialogue, or the narrator? Did it make you cry? Which part? Could you relate to one of the characters? Did it make you feel seen? Did the fluff make you feel all fuzzy inside or did the angst twist knots in your stomach? This isn't an exhaustive list, and emotions are great to draw from when you're leaving a comment!

Favorite element of the writing: Is there one thing in the writing that struck you as being particularly good, or what was your favorite thing to read? Is the author a master at writing dialogue? Are their descriptions so good you could see the whole scene? Are they really good at getting in a character's head and describing their emotions? Were you hooked from the start and couldn't stop until you reached the end?

Characterization: Now, this might be less instinctive, but if you've been in a fandom for a while, you'll probably be able to identify these things fairly easily. You can tell the author if you think they've nailed one aspect of a character. Did you have a favorite character in the fic? What did you think of them? Did the author manage to capture their voice? Was the attitude spot-on? Which parts of the character, if you can name them? Were there aspects of the character you particularly enjoyed? Did the author shine a light on something you hadn't considered or on something you don't think is highlighted often enough? Is there one thing from the fic you can actually picture/hear a character doing/saying in your head?

Style: I'd argue this is the hardest part, and you shouldn't feel bad if it's not something you can really comment on. As someone whose first language isn't English, I know I struggle with it. Style can be perceived as the way the author's voice comes through in the text. It can come through in punctuation, in the way sentences are formed, in the choice of the words themselves. If, when you read, you feel something intangible that doesn't fit well in the other categories, it just might be the author's style.

Here are some things (non-exhaustive list, of course) you could say about an author's style: it can be direct, straight to the point. The author doesn't bother with ornaments. Every sentence feels impactful. Maybe the writing feels intense. You're overwhelmed by the characters and their feelings and you feel truly engulfed in the story. Maybe the style is light and airy. It's so easy to read you don't even notice you are reading. Maybe the writing is intricate. Going through it is like piecing a puzzle together, sentences are foreshadowing and metaphors reveal deep truths about the characters. Maybe the style is rich. While not always the easiest, it's a pleasure to read through it, the author has a wide vocabulary, and you might want to compare it to a well-written novel.

If you identify specific elements of that style (metaphors, interesting use of punctuation, etc.), don't hesitate to point them out and let the author know you enjoy them!

That is it for this post, hopefully it doesn't look too daunting — again, you absolutely do not need to do all that in any comment, but maybe going through this list can help you leave comments for authors you enjoy.

I like to end my comments with 'Thank you for writing and sharing this with us', so I'll tell you thank you for reading, I hope this was helpful, and please consider reblogging if you'd like to save this or if you think it could help someone else!

As a bonus, my friend @elidebrey and I (but mostly her) made a 'checklist' for commenting, to help remember all this if that's something you'd like, so use at will!

A big thank you to @elidebrey, @yoongihan and @antoniorhinothethird for their precious opinions on this ♥

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