You can call me Coco, Koko, KL, whatever you like! Mainly write for Lewis Hamilton x Reader, but will occasionally open up to writing for other drivers.
Way too many ideas, too little time to write them all, so can be a little slow to update, but I'm working on it!
Currently Writing:
The One: Lewis Hamilton x Reader (Genetic Soulmate AU)
Summary: MatchDNA finds the one person you're scientifically guaranteed to fall in love with. Yours happens to be Lewis Hamilton. The problem? He's not available, and neither are you.
Chapters: Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five |
The Game: Charles Leclerc x Reader x Lewis Hamilton (Bridgerton AU)
Summary: You were sent to Mayfair to secure a match and save your family from financial ruin, but when your debut catches the eye of the Prince of Monaco, and the attention of the Duke of Silverstone, you are forced to choose between love and duty. Only one can claim your heart, who will you choose?
Chapters: One | Two
Completed Works:
Oneshots:
Birthday Wish: Lewis Hamilton x Reader (Smut)
Summary: You came home thinking your birthday party was over, but it had only just begun.
Words: 14,215
Mile High: Lewis Hamilton x Reader (Smut)
Summary: Your love takes you miles high.
Words: 7,760
Spoiled: Lewis Hamilton x Reader (Smut)
Summary: Lewis loves to spoil you, so tonight, you give him a private show heāll never forget. (Request)
Words: 9,901
Poison: Lewis Hamilton x Reader (Smut)
Summary: After pissing off the wrong woman, Lewis learns how it feels to come last.
Words: 12,123
Home: Lewis Hamilton x Reader (Smut)
Summary: Singapore is the most brutal race of the year, and when it strips Lewis bare, youāre the one who makes him feel at home again.
Words: 12,417
Ride Me, Cowboy: Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Summary: Lewisā latest merch photoshoot awakens your cowboy fantasies.
Words: 2,009
Unravelling: Lewis Hamilton x Reader (Smut)
Summary: After a racing incident leaves him silent, Lewis comes undone in the only place he can. In you.
Words: 9,964
Series:
Fading Lines: Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Summary: The lines between friendship and something more start to blur between you and Lewis when after invites you to his first race weekend with Ferrari.
Status: Complete
Fic Masterlist
Clarity: Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Summary: Two years later, with your love stronger than ever, you and Lewis are forced to confront what's still unresolved between you, while on a summer getaway with your friends. (Sequel to Fading Lines)
Status: Complete
Fic Masterlist
All Iāve gotta say is if you post those pics or the video praising it on my tiktok or IG feed, I will be reporting your post or pressing not interested because getttt that shit out of my face š
MASTERLIST įÆā
author's note: here's the final fic of my dear melancholy! sorry it's taken me so long to get this little one-shot series out but thank you for all of the support. i love abel sm so this has really been a labour of love for me. this one's really really sad but how else could we end it? love you angels!! happier fics coming soon <3
pairing: lewis hamilton x reader
wc: 3.6k! (one-shot. based on privilege by the weeknd. my fav song ever pls listen)
summary: all good things must come to an end, even the beautiful, messy, all-consuming ones. when love becomes a loop of pain dressed up as passion, sometimes the kindest thing you can do for each other is walk away while the memories are still worth saving. a quiet, devastating goodbye between two people who loved too hard and hurt each other too well.
warnings: heavy angst, breakup, emotional hurt/comfort, toxic relationship dynamics, ending toxic cycles, mutual pining, both characters still very much in love, no happy resolution.
3:17 a.m. again. It was always 3:17 a.m.
His name was already on your tongue before you were fully awake, the way it always was. It was like your body hadn't gotten the memo yet, like sleep was the only place the goodbye hadn't reached. You'd trace the phantom shape of his jaw in the dark, fingers moving through nothing, and hate yourself for how natural the motion still felt. Muscle memory was the last thing to grieve.
He never told you, but he did the same. Reaching for your waist in the dark of early morning, only for the bone-crushing reality to crash over him like ice water: one of you had fucked it all up again. That the warmth beside him was just a ghost you'd both gotten too good at haunting each other with.
There were shirts you hadn't thrown out. Couldn't. You'd press your face into the collar on bad nights and breathe until the tears came, hot and useless, because even the scent felt like betrayal now. Cedar and smoke and the faint sweetness of whatever cologne he wore when he wanted to feel untouchable. Proof that once, you'd been allowed to want him without punishment.
The goodbyes had never stuck. That was the thing nobody outside the two of you ever understood. Every ending was just a pause, a held breath, a door left barely ajar. You'd sworn it off a dozen times. Packed feelings away like seasonal clothes, told yourself you were done, that this time the silence would hold. Then three weeks later, or two months, or once almost a whole yearā¦a text. A look across a room. His hand finding the small of your back like it had never left. The door would swing open again and you'd both walk through it like you hadn't spent weeks learning to breathe without each other. Like the leaving had never happened at all. It was never really goodbye, it was always wait for me to get better for you.
Until now.
The city did what it always did, glittered on indifferently, a thousand lit windows full of people who had no idea. You'd been sitting in silence for a while by then. Not the comfortable kind. The silence had weight to it, it pressed down on your sternum and made every breath feel slightly too forced. It was the kind of silence that said you both knew what was coming and were just deciding who'd be brave enough to start.
He leaned forward in the dim light of his living room, elbows on his knees, and reached for your hand slowly. Like he was approaching something that might bolt. Like it was the last precious thing he owned, like if he let go too quickly, the whole fragile architecture of what remained between you would collapse.
"I don't want you to suffer anymore." His voice came out low, rough at the edges the way it always got when he was trying not to cry. "Not because of me."
The words landed like a blade between your ribs. The way he said it was so clean, precise, merciful in the worst way. You bit the inside of your cheek until you tasted copper, the same taste that had bloomed every time one of you walked out the door and swore it was the last time. Your eyes slid away to the shadowed corner of the room, to the place where the light couldnāt reach, anywhere but his face. Because looking at him would mean admitting you still wanted to stay,that you'd always want to stay, that wanting had never been the problem. Your fingers still found his on instinct, threading together like theyād never learned another language, like muscle memory was the only honest thing left between you.
His thumb brushed once over your knuckles. The same small, reverent motion he used to make when you were falling asleep against his chest and he thought you wouldnāt notice. You noticed. You always noticed. That was the worst part about all of this. Even now, at the end, he couldnāt stop touching you like you were something precious he was trying to memorise before the lights came up and the illusion shattered.
You wanted to tell him you were both already suffering. That the suffering had started the first time he kissed you like he meant forever and then disappeared for three days without a word. That every reconciliation had only deepened the wound, layering scar tissue over scar tissue until you werenāt sure where the hurt ended and love began. You wanted to scream that letting you go now wouldnāt stop the ache, it would only give it a new shape, a quieter one that settled in your chest like damp rot and never quite left.
But the words stayed locked behind your teeth. All you could do was hold his hand tighter, as if the pressure alone could keep the goodbye from happening. As if your grip could rewrite the ending you both knew was coming years ago. The ending neither of you had ever been strong enough to choose before.Ā
He exhaled, shaky, the sound almost a laugh but too broken to qualify. āGod, look at us,ā he whispered. āStill holding on even when weāre letting go.ā
Your throat burned. You didnāt answer. You just let the silence stretch, let the city lights flicker across his face like they were trying to light him up one last time before the dark took him away from you for good. Underneath the taste of copper on your tongue, beneath the ache in your bones, you understood that this was the kindest cut heād ever given you. It still felt like dying.
āLook at me, sweetie. Please.ā
You turned. His eyes were dark, rimmed with something fragile and wet. The fragility he rarely let anyone see. But you were always his worst exception. He looked like a man who had already made his decision and was grieving it in real time.
āI love you,ā he said, the words cracking just enough to hurt. āYou know I love you.ā
You nodded. It was all your throat would allow.
āBut thisāthis thing we have, this loop we keep running where one of us fucks up and the other forgives just to fuck up againā¦ I canāt keep watching you hurt because of me. Or me because of you. We give in every few months like itās inevitable, like the pain we cause is some kind of fucked up foreplay.ā He exhaled, shaky.
āI care about you too much to let it keep rotting us both. Fuck, babe, I donāt know how else to say it.ā His thumb was still slowly moving across your knuckles, barely, like he wasnāt aware he was still doing it.
He stopped. Started again, jaw tight, like he was forcing the words out one by one. āI don't want us to end on some ugly hate-filled note, screaming things we can't take back. So Iām trying to do the bigger thing hereā¦I want to walk away while I still remember why I fell for you. While I stillā" His voice broke on the last word, just slightly. He steadied himself. "I never want you to hate me, baby."
The silence that followed was enormous. You just stared at him through your eyelashes, feeling your chest constrict in a way it never had before. He meant it. He really, truly meant it. You tracked the tear falling from his cheek, dropping onto his shirt near his collarbone, willing yourself to say something. Anything.Ā
āYeah,ā you murmured, eyes locked on him, eyebrows furrowing with the strain of trying not to cry. āYeah, no, I get it.ā
You did get it. That was the hardest part about it all, you genuinely did. You could see the love in every line of his face and you could also see the exhaustion underneath it, the same exhaustion you'd been carrying for years. It stung like salt in an open wound, even though youād seen it coming from miles away. Things had curdled worse lately, sharper words, longer silences, a toxicity that felt almost addictive. You knew you were special to him; heād said it in hotel rooms at 4 a.m., whispered it against your throat like a secret he couldnāt keep inside. But you were avoidant to your core, always one step back when he leaned in too far. And he was stubborn as hell, feeding off the same chaos you didāthe screaming matches that ended in desperate, bruising sex, the way you both got high on making the other cry just to prove you still mattered to each other. You loved knowing he needed you like oxygen. He loved knowing the same about you. Crawling back had become your shared religion.
But he was choosing differently now. The bigger thing. The harder thing. And you couldn't claw at that without looking small, without proving every terrible thing the worst version of yourself had always suspected ā that you'd rather burn it down than let it end with any grace.
So you didn't.Ā
Lewis leaned in closer, eyes impossibly tender, glistening at the edges. āTake care of yourself for me, okay?ā His whisper cracked on the last word.
Your palm rose to his cheek before you'd decided to move it, the desperate need to comfort him overruling any thoughts about self preservation. The second your palm touched his skin, he leaned into it like he was basking in sunlight. His eyebrows pulled together, another desperate attempt to stop tears, a wounded breath leaving him.
āYeah. You too, Lewis.ā You said softly.Ā
He pressed his lips to your forehead, one hand cradling the back of your head like he could anchor you there forever. He lingeredālong, slow breaths through his nose, lips warm and unmoving against your skin. A full minute stretched between you, heavy with everything youād shared. He lingered long enough that you memorised the weight of his hand, the warmth of his mouth, the way he smelled up close. You made sure to memorise it, just in case you never got to experience it again. Lewis was doing the same thing. Memorising how your skin felt under his lips, how soft your hair was in his hand, the feeling of peace he could never find anywhere else but with you.Ā
You kept your other hand fisted in your lap. If you touched him anywhere else you would shatter. You'd beg. Youād scream. You'd take it all back and ask him to take it all back and you'd both walk back through that door you'd walked through a dozen times before, and in six months you'd be right here again, bleeding in the same familiar ways.
As his lips lingered against your forehead, the old reflexes started to rise. The urge to pull back, to turn the tenderness into something safer and sharper, something that would pull him back into the fight. Youād done it so many times before: a soft moment would crest, and youād pick a fight over nothing. A missed text, a tone you didnāt like, just to remind yourself the ground could still shift. Better to detonate it yourself than wait for him to leave. But tonight, with his breath warm against your hair, you stayed still. Finally, you let the ache bloom unchecked. For once, you didnāt weaponise the fear. You werenāt going to cause a fight because he was trying to protect you both.Ā
You both needed more than the wreckage you kept offering each other.
When he pulled back, he tilted his head and gave you a soft smile. His eyebrows were still furrowed in a way that showed he was trying not to cry. And even though your heart was somewhere on the floor, you smiled back. Sad, yes. Broken, maybe. But you smiled back.Ā
It was the kindest thing you'd ever done for each other.
Weeks bled into months. The silence between you grew until you went no contact. It was for the best, youād mutually decided.
Across town, in a low-lit booth at some private membersā club where the music thumped like a second heartbeat, Lewis sat with Miles and Spinz, glass sweating in his hand.
āLewis is sad because he finally lost the stupid game he was playing with that girlā¦ whatās her face? The pretty one he used to giggle arounāā
Lewis slammed his drink down so hard the ice jumped. āDonāt fucking talk about it like that.ā His voice was low, lethal. āI loved her. You fucking know I did. Keep her name out your mouth.ā
Miles visibly flinched, eyebrows raising to his hairline. Spinz blinked, stunned silent.
āBro, I was justāā
āYou werenāt just anything.ā Lewisās stare couldāve cut glass. āIt wasnāt a game. You donāt know shit about what we were behind closed doors. Keep her name out your fucking mouth.ā
Miles waved Spinz off, eyes fixed on Lewis, who was now glaring into his drink like it had personally betrayed him. āYou ended things with her, then?ā Miles asked, careful, leaning in to catch the averted gaze.
Lewis gave one sharp nod.
āShit, man. I thought you two wereā¦ locked in. Well, not locked in, butāyou always circled back. Thatās just how it was.ā
Lewis lifted the glass again, took a slow sip, shrugged like the motion cost him something. āI couldnāt keep hurting her. And I couldnāt keep letting her hurt me. Most days we were both so far out of line, Milesā¦ I didnāt want us to wake up one morning and hate each other completely. I wanted to keep the good shit intact, you know? The nights that werenāt war zones. The way sheād laugh at my stupid jokes at three in the morning. I wanted to remember that version of us.ā
He dragged a hand over his face, exhaling hard.
āIt just fucking hurts. I wanted it to be her. God, I wanted it so bad. But you canāt force compatibility. We kept tearing each other apart instead of building anything real.ā
Miles frowned and tilted his head at Lewis. āYou guys were good when things wereā¦ good. Iām sorry, bruv. I know you loved her.ā
Lewis stared at the table for a long beat, thumb tracing the rim of the glass. āYeah. And I fucked it up plenty too. Sheād get scaredāreal scaredāwhen shit felt too steady. Like if we got too comfortable, the floor was gonna drop out. So sheād pull back, start picking at threads until the whole thing unraveled. Little tests, you know? āProve you wonāt leave.ā And Iād feel it, that distance, and instead of talking, Iād go quiet. Disappear for a day or two, let her stew, because I was too stubborn to just say I was scared too. Then sheād blow up to get a reaction, and Iād match her energy every fucking time. I'd yell louder, shut down harder. We turned every fight into proof the other still gave a shit. It was exhausting.ā
Miles nodded slowly, no judgment, just listening. āSo you both kept feeding it.ā
āExactly. I held on too tight when she needed space. She pushed when I needed her to stay. We were both running the same loopāright person, wrong fucking timing, wrong wiring. I thought if I just loved her hard enough, I could fix it. But love doesnāt fix avoidance, does it? And it doesnāt fix me being a possessive prick when I feel her slipping.ā He let out a short, humorless laugh.
āI walked away because I finally realised the kindest thing I could doāfor both of us. Let the good memories stay good. Let her find someone who doesnāt make her test the exit every time things get quiet.ā
Spinz shifted, voice softer than before. "You think she's okay?"
Lewis's jaw tightened. He looked out across the dim room, the low lights catching the condensation on his glass, and was quiet for long enough that the answer felt like its own kind of answer.
"I hope so," he said finally. "That's the whole point, innit. I don't want to hear she's still suffering because of me."
Miles watched him for a moment. It was rare Lewis let people see him like this. He weighed up the right thing to say. "I meanā¦ think of it as a privilege, yeah? That you got to know someone that deeply. Got to experience that kind of love at all."
Lewis didn't answer straight away. He looked at his glass, thumb still against the rim. Something in his face shifted, not quite agreement, not quite resistance. Just the slow, painful process of trying to hold two true things at once.
"Yeah," he said finally, voice quieter than his friends had ever heard. āYeah, maybe."
He didn't sound convinced. But he didn't sound like he was dismissing it either. Like he was filing it away for some night when he might actually be able to believe it.
Miles reached over, clapped a hand on his shoulder. āYou did the hard thing, man. Doesnāt make it hurt less, butā¦ respect.ā
Lewis didn't answer straight away. He just nodded once, eyes distant, like he was still replaying that last forehead kiss, the way your thumb had brushed his cheek like you were memorising the texture one final time.
The nights after that blurred. He told himself he could go back to the old waysābodies without names, nights that ended in someone elseās sheets, drowning the ache in skin and liquor and whatever else promised to sand down the edges of his pain. Rebuild the armour you'd spent years quietly dismantling. Stroke the ego back into shape. Pretend the hollow in his chest was just temporary, just withdrawal, just a thing that would pass if he gave it enough noise to drown in.
It didn't pass.
Every time he tried, your face surfaced behind his eyes at the worst possible moment. Not even the dramatic version of you ā not mid-fight, not crying, not any of the moments that should've been easier to file away under we were wrong for each other. It was always you on that last night. The way you'd looked at him so resigned, exhausted, but still so unbearably soft with him, even then. Even at the end. The way your palm had found his cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world, like your hands had never learned to be unkind to him even when the rest of you was falling apart.
He didnāt deserve the comfort youād offered on the nights the world pressed too hard. And you hadn't deserved the way he'd let silence curdle into something cruel whenever things felt too steady, too good, too close to real. That particular brand of self-sabotage you both did so well:Ā going quiet, pulling back, letting you feel the distance until you panicked and swung at each other just so something would happen, just so the feeling of the ground beneath you both could be confirmed. He'd hated you for it sometimes. Hated himself more, after.
It was always right person, wrong time. Wrong timing stretched across years until it felt like fate laughing at you both. You used to joke that your star signs were allergic to each other. Heād tease you mercilessly, call it bullshit, flick your forehead and soothe it with a kiss. Now, alone in the dark with the city humming below, he wondered if youād been right all along. Maybe the love had been realā¦it was real, he knew it was real, he'd felt it in places he hadn't known could feel anything. But maybe whatever was broken between you was more powerful. Maybe you couldn't have fixed it without dismantling the whole thing.
He turned the word over sometimes, late at night when the noise wasn't enough. Privilege. The way Miles had said it like it was simple. Like it was a comfort.
Because privilege, he realised too late, wasn't money or fame or the glittering life everyone assumed he led. Privilege was having loved you so completely it almost destroyed you both, and still being able to walk away before it finished the job. Privilege was letting you go, hoping you'd finally stop suffering because of him. And hoping, against every instinct screaming otherwise, that one day he'd stop suffering because of you.
He'd prayed, though. For you. For him. For you to find your way back. More than he'd ever told anyone. More than he'd admit even now.
But still, nothing had lined up the way he needed it to.
So he'd chosen this. Chosen to stop the bleeding before it turned into something neither of you could come back from. Some nights that felt like the most adult thing he'd ever done and other nights it just felt like loss with better vocabulary.
He thought about you more than was probably healthy. Wondered if you were sleeping. Wondered if you still pressed your face into fabric that smelled like someone else and cried without knowing why. Wondered if the 3 a.m. was still the hardest hour, or if you'd started to sleep through it yet.
He hoped you had. He hoped you were somewhere warm and laughing and slowly, incrementally, becoming a version of yourself that didn't need to test the ground every time it stayed steady.
He hoped you knew he loved you. He hoped that much had survived the wreckage intact.
The last image he let himself keep ā the one he returned to when the rest of it got too heavy ā was you, on that last night, sad and broken and still somehow smiling back at him. He held onto that. The fact that it had ended with your mouth curved upward, even slightly. Even through the grief of it.
It wasn't enough. But it was something. And some nights, something was all you got.
tags: @70srogertaylor @forzalewis44xo @mikaissance @saintslewis @liveloungeharry @knowinglewis @dr-hamilton @palefacestudentlove @lulusgowild @dewylewis44 @yeoldebytche @raysmayhem-72 @dolyswonderland @vintagesoul-01 @thegirlinblackgreensilver @aashimania @iamquiantrelle @misolii @butterflykey @magnificentlyrainythunder @moonballspls122 @scenesofobx @nebulastarr @thesizzler @africandiasporagoods44 (some of these tags are from january 2026, if u dont want to be tagged anymore pls let me know <3)
Iām really curious to know everyoneās preference with AU fics, especially with F1 and whether having other drivers cameo as characters in there is something you all enjoy, or if original characters are preferred!
I personally love using cameos, where Lewis is the main love interest for the reader, but other drivers play side roles in the story. For example in my Bridgerton fic, where Charles and Lewis are the main love interests, but Pierre, George, and Lando cameo as other suitors, or in the street racer WIP with Danny Ric as the readerās mechanic friend and Max as the rival racer, etc!
In F1 AU fics, do you preferā¦
Cameos of other drivers as side characters in the story
Original characters as side characters in the story
MASTERLIST įÆā
author's note: hi angels! IāM BACKKKK š do i return with peace? no. i return with this lmfao. this one is roughhh, he knows exactly what heās doing, says it out loud, and still doesnāt stop. which might be worse actually. he's somehow still the biggest dickhead in monaco. very much āwe shouldnāt be doing thisā āi knowā and then they do it anyway. also, car sex. enjoy! <3 (thank u to my angel @knowinglewis for the inspo + the support over the past month i hope you LOVE this)
pairing: lewis hamilton x reader
wc: 6k!
summary: after swearing he doesnāt do relationships, lewis watches you try to move on with someone else. one conversation, one drive, and all his warnings go out the window the second he gets his hands on you again. because some cycles are too addictive to break.
warnings: explicit smut (minors dni), car sex, unprotected p in v, creampie, praise kink (little degradation too), heavy dirty talk, toxic situationship, emotional infidelity ish (mental fixation on ex during new relationship), possessive behaviour, angst, no happy ending, hurt with minimal comfort, self-aware but unrepentant lewis, regression / cycle of toxicity
The Monaco Grand Prix had been over for hours, the circuit lights long dimmed, but the after party still thrummed like a second race. Youād shown up half for him, half because the guy you were currently sleeping with ā Marco ā had offered a nice hotel room and an easy weekend. The rooftop bar pulsed with bass that sank into your bones, the harbour lights flickering below in perfect sync with the music, turning the whole city into a glittering trap. Thatās what weekends like this had started to feel like. A trap.Ā
Lewis walked in like he owned the night. Dior trousers tailored to sin, tight in all the right places, hugging thighs and hips that had once been yours to map with your mouth. A fitted black tank clung to his chest, biceps carved and inked, the tattoos trailing down his arms to his fingertips catching every strobe like liquid silver. Two diamond chains stacked heavy on his neck, catching light and drawing every eye. You fought every instinct to stare, at the column of his throat, the sharp line of his jaw, those fucking lips that still knew every secret your body kept.
He greeted friends, peers, flashing his easy, devastating smile. Marcoās hand stayed firm on your lower back, warm and claiming, like he sensed the shift in the air the second Lewis appeared.
Like a moth to flame, Lewisās eyes found yours across the crowd. There was a second of recognition where his eyebrows lifted slightly. Then his gaze slid to the hand on your back, followed the line of the arm, clocked the ownership in Marcoās stance. Whatever flashed behind his eyesā¦jealousy, possession, something darkerā¦he buried it fast. The mask of cool stayed perfect.
He approached eventually. Leaned in for a sweet, polite kiss on your cheek, lips brushing just long enough to send heat curling low in your stomach. āHey, angel.ā
The old nickname slipped out soft like a habit he couldnāt undo. You felt Marco stiffen beside you.
You smiled back, nodding, voice steady. āHey. This is Marco.ā
Lewis turned to him, extended a hand with his trademark grin. Friendly, but his eyes did a quick, subtle sweep: the watch, the posture, the way Marcoās fingers flexed against your spine. He sized him up in half a second, recognised his face. Formula E driver, same media polish, same lean build, same easy charm, but the championship was different. Electric, urban, not nearly as impressive. Marco was a shittier version of Lewis, is what he processed instantly.
The amusement flickered in Lewisās gaze for the briefest instant, gone before anyone but you could catch it. āNice to meet you, mate.ā
Marco shook firmly, returning the smile. āYou too. Great race today. Your overtake on Charles was superb.ā
Lewis chuckled low, modest as always. āThanks, man. Had to push it. You race too?ā
āFormula E mostly. Different beast, but the adrenalineās the same.ā
Lewis nodded, eyes flicking back to you for a split second, amused, almost fond. Like he could see exactly how hard you were working to keep your face neutral, and like he found the parallel between him and Marco hilarious in a quiet, private way. āRespect. Electricās the future, right? Keeping it clean.ā
Marco laughed. āTrying to. You should come do a guest stint sometime, see how it feels without the V6 noise.ā
āMaybe one day,ā Lewis said, polite, but his smirk tugged a fraction higher. Like the idea of stepping into Marcoās world amused him more than it should.
āHowāve you been?ā he asked then, the question landing squarely on you again. His voice dropped just enough that it felt private, even in the crowd.
āGood,ā you said, far too quick. āBusy. You?ā
āSame. Always moving.ā His gaze lingered on your mouth for half a second before sliding back up. āYou lookā¦ happy.ā
Marcoās thumb stroked a small circle on your back, possessive and reassuring.
āSheās been great,ā he said with an easy smile. āWeāve been keeping each other company.ā
Oh, Lewis didnāt like that. His grin didnāt falter, but something sharpened behind it. The muscle in his jaw clenched, only for a brief second, before he managed a slightly strained ālucky man.ā
Small talk flowed after that. Nice, surface level, laughing at the right moments. Lewis asked Marco about his last ePrix weekend, complimenting his taste in watches āThatās a nice piece...vintage?ā, kept the vibe light and gentlemanly. But every time you spoke, Lewis leaned in to hear you over the music, head dipping until you were eye-level, breath warm against your skin. His pinky brushed yours on the bar ledge, deliberate, fleeting, gone before Marco could notice. You snapped your eyes back to your date mid-sentence, pulse hammering against your ribs. Lewis watched you fluster, a little smile lingered at the corner of his mouth, one that said I know exactly what youāre trying not to feel.
You were trying so hard not to look at him like you used to. Like he was still the only man who could unravel you with a glance. And he knew. You hated him for it.
āOh, actually!ā Lewis smiled eventually, easy as breathing. āOne of our friends is just over there. Iām sure sheād love to see you. Can I steal her away for a second, mate?ā
Marco glanced at the empty space Lewis had nodded toward, then back with a confused shrug. āYeah, yeah, of course. Go catch up.ā
Lewis caught your wrist, gentle but quick, and pulled you to the side, away from the crowd, into a shadowed corner where the music dulled to a throb.
Only then did his smile stop, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he scoffed under his breath.
āYou really doing this?ā he whispered, tilting his head, eyes locked on yours. āFilling the void already? With him?ā
The words hit like a slap wrapped in desire. The sharpness of his whisper lit every nerve in your body on fire. He was jealous.
You stepped closer, voice low and sharp. āYouāre the one who said you donāt do relationships. No love, no strings, no nothing. You said it while you were balls deep inside of me, Lewis. Repeatedly. You told me, warned me, to stay away.ā
He exhaled slow, like the memory was still fresh on his skin too. āI did. And I meant it. Relationships are my enemy. They donāt work for me. Never have. Iāll ruin you, angel. I told you that from the start.ā
āThen why do you look at me like that?ā you shot back, quieter now. āLike youāre pissed Iām here with someone else?ā
His jaw worked your words over, clenching and unclenching before he spoke. āIām not pissed. Iāmā¦ realistic. Youāre trying to move on, and thatās good. Thatās what I wanted for you. But seeing his hand on youāā He cut himself off, shook his head once. āDoesnāt sit right with me.ā
You laughed once, bitter. āYou donāt get to feel possessive when youāre the one who drew the line.ā
āI know.ā His thumb brushed the inside of your wrist where he still held you. āI donāt want to hurt you. Thatās why I said stay away. Every time.ā
āThen let go of my wrist.ā
āNo,ā he murmured, tightening his grip slightly. āI donāt want to do that either.ā
āLet go, Lew.āĀ
He raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening into something that made you want to slap him and kiss him in the same breath.
āI like holding your wrist,ā he said simply, voice low and playful, like he was confessing the most innocent secret. āFeels nice, doesn't it?ā
You tried to glare at him, but it came out weaker than you wanted, heat already pooling low in your stomach. āYouāre such an asshole.ā
Lewis chuckled softly, the sound warm and dangerous against your skin. He didnāt let go. Instead, his thumb continued its slow, lazy circles over your pulse point, pressing just enough to remind you how well he knew every sensitive spot on your body.
āMaybe,ā he murmured, leaning in a fraction closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear. āBut you like it when Iām an asshole. You like it when I touch you like thisā¦ even when youāre pretending you donāt.ā
Your breath got stuck in your throat, betraying you the moment his lips touched your skin.
He tilted his head, eyes glittering and far too amused. āTell me Iām wrong. Tell me that when his hand is on your back, it feels the same as mine does right now.āĀ
He moved the hand that wasnāt holding your wrist to your lower back, a gentle sweep over the curve of your ass before settling in an innocent position. His voice dropped even lower, teasing, almost sweet. āGo on, angel. Lie to me.ā
You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your body was already leaning toward him, traitorous and desperate. āYou donāt get to do this. You donāt get to pull me away and then act like you still have any claim.ā
āIām not claiming anything,ā he said, but the smirk on his lips said otherwise. His hand came up, fingertips ghosting along your bare arm, barely there and yet everywhere at once. āIām justā¦ reminding you. Reminding both of us.ā He paused, voice turning rougher, more honest. āBecause the second I saw his hand on you tonight, all I could think about was how much better mine feels there. How much better it feels everywhere.ā
He let the silence stretch for a second, thumb still stroking your wrist like he had all the time in the world.
āI donāt want to hurt you,ā he whispered, the words brushing warm against your ear. āI never did. Thatās why I told you to stay away. But fuckā¦ I also donāt want to stop touching you. Not when you look at me like that. Not when you still shiver the second I get close.ā
Your heart was pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it. The music from the party felt miles away. There was only his voice, his scent, the heat of his body inches from yours.
Lewis finally pulled back enough to meet your eyes again, a wicked little smirk still playing on his lips, but his gaze had gone darker, hungrier.
āSo yesā¦ I like holding your wrist,ā he admitted, voice soft and dangerous. āI like a lot of things about you. Too many things.ā He sighed, rolling his eyes like he was annoyed at himself, but the smile never left. āAnd I know I shouldnāt. I know Iām bad for you. But here we are.ā
Only then did he let go. Slowly, reluctantly, fingers dragging along your skin like he was memorising every inch one last time. The loss of contact left you colder than it should have. You let out a shaky breath, unsure whether it was relief or pure disappointment twisting in your chest.
He leaned in one final time, breath ghosting hot against your ear, voice dropping even deeper.
āWe need to talk. Properly. Away from all this noise.ā He let the deliberate pause linger, loaded with everything he wasnāt saying. āLet me take you for a drive, baby.ā
You hesitated, heart hammering so hard it felt like it might crack your ribs. Marco was still somewhere behind you, laughing with someone, completely oblivious to the way the air between you and Lewis had thickened into something dangerous and familiar. The city glittered below the rooftop like it was in on the secret, Monaco sprawled out like a glittering trap that had already caught you both.
Lewis watched you with a lust-filled stare, the one that always undid you. You could feel how much he wanted you. His tongue ran slowly over his bottom lip, like he could taste the moment you were about to cave. The diamond chains around his neck caught the low light, glinting against the smooth, inked skin of his chest where the black tank dipped low. He looked every inch the beautiful, untouchable dickhead who had ruined you more times than you could count.
You hated how much you still wanted him. Hated how your body already knew exactly how this night would end.
He didnāt push. He just waited, eyes dark and knowing. Like he already knew your answer before you did.
Then you said the words that always started the cycle again. āFine, okay. A quick one.ā
The valet brought Lewisās Ferrari around without a word. You slid into the passenger seat before you could talk yourself out of it, the leather warm from the Monaco night. Lewis folded himself behind the wheel, one hand loose on the gear stick, the other resting on the steering wheel like he had all the time in the world. The engine purred to life, and he pulled away from the rooftop venue with the quiet confidence that used to make your stomach flip.
For the first few minutes, the silence was almost gentle.
He drove with the windows cracked, warm wind slipping in and tangling with your perfume. The city lights blurred past as he took the winding road up toward La Turbie, away from the noise and the eyes.
āI meant what I said earlier,ā he started, voice soft but steady. One hand left the wheel to rest on the centre console, close enough that his knuckles brushed your thigh. āI donāt want to hurt you. Thatās never been the plan.ā
You turned your head to look at him. The dashboard glow carved sharp shadows across his jaw, highlighting the freshly trimmed beard and the way his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip again. He looked unfairly beautiful like this, half in shadow, half in light.
āThen why do you keep doing it?ā you asked quietly.
Lewis exhaled through his nose, a small, rueful smile tugging at his mouth. āBecause Iām selfish. Because I warned you from the beginning that relationships arenāt meant for meā¦ and I still canāt seem to stay away from you.ā His fingers flexed on the console, brushing your skin again. āYou try to fill the void with every man you meet, donāt you? Because youāre still upset with me. Still trying to prove something.ā
The words settled somewhere between accusation and confession. You let out a breathy laugh, half incredulous, half turned on because he knew you like the back of his hand.
āGod, youāre unbelievable. You ghost me for weeks, tell me I deserve better, then get jealous the second someone else touches me?ā
āIām not jealous,ā he said, but the smirk gave him away. He glanced over at you, eyes dark and playful. āOkayā¦ maybe a little. But come on, angel. Marco?ā He shook his head, chuckling low. āFormula E? Electric cars? Thatās cute. Heās like the BTEC version of me, babe. Same smile, same charm, same āIām a professional driverā shitā¦ but boring and without the edge. Without the part that actually makes you wet.ā
You couldnāt help it, a real laugh burst out of you, bright and surprised, cutting through the tension like a knife. Lewis grinned wider, clearly pleased with himself, the sound of your laughter doing dangerous things to the air between you.
āShut up,ā you said, still laughing, swatting at his arm. āYouāre such a dick.ā
āIām an honest dick,ā he countered, voice warm with amusement. āAdmit it. When heās fucking you, you close your eyes and pretend itās me anyway.ā
āFuck off, Lewis,ā you shot back, half-laughing, half-breathless, thighs pressing together without meaning to. āI do notāā
āOh, baby,ā he drawled, low and sultry, eyes flicking from the road to your mouth and back again. āDonāt lie to me. We both know you do.ā
You scoffed, but the sound came out shaky. āYouāre so fucking full of yourself.ā
āAnd youāre so fucking wet right now just thinking about it,ā he murmured, that smug smirk curling deeper. āTell me Iām wrong. Tell me his name is the one on your tongue when you come.ā
Heat flooded your face. You turned to glare at him, but your voice betrayed you and came out ofter, breathier than you wanted. āYou wish.ā
Lewis chuckled, smug and knowing His hand left the wheel and landed on your knee, sliding slowly upward, fingertips slipping under the hem of your dress like they belonged there. āNahā¦ I donāt have to wish. I remember exactly how you sound when youāre trying not to moan my name. All breathy and desperateā¦ like youāre doing right now.ā
Your breath hitched. The car felt impossibly small, the air thick with your perfume and the low rumble of the engine. The last time youād been in this car, his hand had been between your thighs at 3 a.m., two fingers curling inside you while he drove one-handed through empty streets, telling you in the same low, filthy voice exactly what he was going to do to you when you got home. The memory hit you both at the same time. You saw it flash across his face, the way his grip tightened on the wheel, the way his tongue ran over his bottom lip again, slower this time. Lewis swallowed hard.
āFuck,ā he muttered under his breath, eyes flicking to your bare legs where your dress had ridden up slightly. āThis car is too small for us to fuck in, baby.ā
āLewisā¦ā It was supposed to be a warning. It came out like a plea.
āYeah?ā His palm smoothed higher, thumb stroking the soft skin of your inner thigh, dangerously close to where you were aching. āYou gonna tell me to stop? Or are you gonna keep pretending you donāt want my hand between your thighs right now?ā
You swallowed hard, heart slamming against your ribs. All you could do was repeat yourself, with a little more emphasis, your brain scrambling for words. āYouāre such a fucking dick, Lewis.ā
āMm. But Iām your favourite dick,ā he said, voice dropping even lower, rough with want. His fingers teased higher, brushing the edge of your lace panties. āAnd youāre soaked for this dick. Arenāt you, angel?ā
The silence that followed was loud. Your thighs trembled under his touch. You hated how right he was. Hated how badly you wanted him to keep going.
Lewis leaned over just enough for his breath to ghost your ear, eyes still on the winding road.
āSay it,ā he whispered, hot and commanding. āTell me you think about me when he fucks you. Tell me you close your eyes and wish it was my cock instead.ā
You let out a shaky, broken laugh that sounded far too close to a moan.
āFuckā¦I hate you..ā
He grinned, slow and wicked, fingers finally pressing against your clothed heat, a slow drag upwards.
āAnd yet here you areā¦ letting me touch you again.ā
His fingers kept rubbing slow, torturous circles against your soaked lace, pressing just hard enough to make your hips twitch involuntarily toward his hand. You were embarrassingly wet already, the fabric clinging to you, and Lewis could feel every little shift of your body. His jaw flexed, breath coming slightly heavier as he tried to keep his eyes on the dark, winding road.
You glanced down before you could stop yourself.
The thick outline of his cock was straining against the tailored Dior trousers, twitching visibly with every stroke of his fingers between your thighs. The sight made your mouth go dry. He was rock hard, the fabric stretched tight over him, and the knowledge that he was this turned on just from touching you made you throb under his touch.
Lewis noticed where your eyes had gone. A low, rough chuckle rumbled in his chest.
āSee what you do to me?ā he murmured, voice thick with arousal. His fingers never stopped their teasing rhythm, pressing firmer now, rubbing right over where you needed him most through the lace. āOne conversation and Iām already this fucking hard for you. Pathetic, isnāt it?ā
You bit your lip hard, a soft whimper slipping out before you could catch it.
āTell me to take you back right now,ā he said suddenly, strained. His fingers slowed but didnāt stop, still stroking you with maddening patience. āTell me to turn the car around and drop you back at the party with Marco. Iāll do it. I swear I will.ā
Your chest rose and fell rapidly. The words wouldnāt come. All you could do was spread your legs wider, chasing the pressure of his hand.
Lewis let out a shaky exhale, eyes flicking between the road and your face, dark with hunger.
āI meant every warning I ever gave you,ā he whispered, finally pulling his hand away just long enough to reach over and cup your chin. His thumb brushed slowly across your lower lip, pressing gently until your mouth parted for him. āIāll hurt you. Iāll break your heart. Iāll leave you crying over me again.ā
He leaned in closer, breath hot against your lips, voice barely above a growl.
āBut right nowā¦ I really donāt give a fuck about being good.ā
Then he kissed you. Deep, desperate, and starving. His tongue slid against yours like he was claiming every moan, every whimper, every shaky breath. The car swerved slightly as he lost focus for half a second, but he didnāt care. Neither did you.
His hand dropped back between your thighs, shoving your dress higher, fingers finally pushing your soaked panties aside to touch bare, dripping skin.
The pull-off was just ahead. Lewis didnāt even ask this time. He took the turn sharply, tyres crunching over gravel as he killed the engine in the shadowed cliffside spot. The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by your ragged breathing and the distant crash of waves far below.
He turned to you fully, eyes black with lust, chest heaving.
āLast chance, angel,ā he rasped, already reaching for the seat lever to push his seat back. āTell me no.ā
You didnāt. Instead, you climbed over the console and into his lap like youād been starving for it.
Lewis groaned the moment your weight settled on him, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he shoved his seat all the way back. āFuck, angelā¦ thatās it. Come here, baby.ā
Your dress was already bunched around your waist. His fingers yanked your soaked panties to the side with zero patience, the lace digging into your skin. The moment he sprang free, thick and heavy, leaking at the tip, you both moaned. He was so hard it looked almost painful, the head flushed dark and glistening.Ā
You didnāt wait. You sank down on him in one slick, desperate slide.
āShitāfuckāā Lewisās head fell back against the headrest, a broken moan ripping from his throat. āSo fucking tightā¦ always so fucking perfect for me.ā
The stretch burned in the best way. You gasped, nails digging into his shoulders through the thin tank as you took every thick inch. He was so deep like this, filling you completely, and the angle in the car made it even hotter.
Lewisās hands slid up your thighs, gripping hard. āThatās my girl,ā he rasped, voice wrecked already. āLook at youā¦ taking me so well. Like you were made for my cock.ā
You started moving, rolling your hips, grinding down on him with needy, frantic strokes. The car rocked with every thrust. Fog was already blooming across the windows, sealing you both inside your own private hell.
Lewis couldnāt stop moaning. Low, filthy sounds that vibrated against your neck as he buried his face there, biting and sucking marks into your skin.
āFuck, babyā¦ ride me just like that,ā he groaned, one hand slipping between your bodies to rub tight circles over your clit. āYou feel so good. So wet. Youāre dripping, angel. You missed this dick, didnāt you?ā
āYesāā The word broke on a whimper as you slammed down harder, chasing that perfect spot only he ever hit. āLewisā¦ oh my godāā
āThatās it. Say my name.ā His voice was hoarse, praise pouring out between moans. āNo one else makes you feel like this. No one else gets you this fucking soaked. You know it. I know it.ā
He thrust up to meet you, hips snapping hard, the wet slap of skin echoing in the small space. Every stroke was deep and punishing, like he was trying to fuck the memory of anyone else out of your body.
You were both losing control. Lewisās head tipped back again, eyes closing, mouth open on a constant stream of broken sounds. āShitā¦ youāre gonna make me come too fast. You always do this to meāfuck, you ruin me every single time.ā
His praise mixed with raw desperation, the two of you feeding off each other.
āYouāre so good,ā he panted, thumb rubbing faster over your clit. āSo fucking good for me. My perfect little slut. Taking every inch like you canāt get enough.ā
You clenched around him at the words, a sharp cry tearing from your throat. The praise hit you harder than the thrusts. Lewis felt it. He moaned louder, almost whining. āYeah? You like when I talk to you like that? Like when I tell you how fucking perfect your pussy feels?ā
You nodded frantically, hips stuttering as you rode him harder, grinding down on his cock with messy, desperate rolls.
āGod, Iām so deep,ā he groaned, voice cracking. āCan feel you squeezing meāfuck, youāre gonna come, arenāt you? Come on my cock, angel. Let me feel it. Let me feel how good I make you feel.ā
The praise, the filth, the way his voice shook, iit pushed you over the edge.
You came hard, crying out his name as your walls clenched and fluttered around him. Lewisās hips stuttered, a loud, broken moan tearing from his chest.
āFuckāyesāgood girl. Thatās my good fucking girl,ā he gasped, thrusting up through your orgasm, chasing his own. āIām so closeā¦ you feel so good baby. Shit, I canātā Iām gonnaāā
He came with a raw, guttural moan, burying himself deep as he spilled inside you. His hips jerked, fingers digging bruises into your waist while he rode it out, moaning your name in a way that made you dizzy.
For a long moment, the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the faint creak of the leather seats. Lewisās forehead dropped to your shoulder, arms wrapping tight around your waist like he couldnāt bear to let you go yet. He was still twitching inside you, both of you trembling.
āFuckā¦ā he whispered against your skin, voice hoarse. "Every single time it gets better than the last, angel.ā
He pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone, then another to your throat, almost tender now that the desperation had burned through.
But the warnings were already creeping back in, you could feel them in the way his grip tightened, like he was holding on and letting go at the same time. His hands stroked slow, soothing circles over your back, but he didnāt pull out. Not yet.
Eventually, he lifted his head and caught your mouth in a kiss ā slow, deep, and devastatingly tender. His lips moved like he was trying to memorise the taste of you, tongue sliding against yours in lazy, wet strokes. You moaned softly into his mouth and he swallowed it, kissing you harder, longer, like he couldnāt bear to stop.
When he finally pulled back just enough to speak, his voice was rough and cracked with emotion.
āI wish I could give you everything you want, babyā¦ā He kissed you again, slower this time, lips brushing yours between every word. āI wish I wasnāt so fucking broken.ā
Another long kiss followed. Deep, wet, and full of quiet ache. His tongue slid against yours like an apology he couldnāt quite voice.
āYouāre so beautiful,ā he whispered against your mouth, thumb gently stroking your cheek. āMy gorgeous girlā¦ always so perfect for me.ā
He kissed you again, and again, slow, open-mouthed kisses that tasted like salt and longing. Each one deeper than the last, until you were both breathing into each otherās mouths, tongues gliding, lips slick and swollen.
You could feel him starting to harden again inside you, thick and heavy, stretching you open once more. A soft, needy sound escaped your throat. Lewis groaned quietly, hips giving one slow, shallow roll.
āFeel that?ā he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, then back to your lips. āI could never get enough of you.ā
He kept the pace devastatingly slow. Gentle, deep thrusts that dragged against every sensitive spot inside you. The car rocked with the lazy rhythm, windows completely fogged now, the air thick and humid between you.
You moaned softly into his mouth, fingers threading through his braids as you kissed him through every thrust.
āI could love you so good, Lewā¦ā you whispered against his lips, voice trembling with emotion. āI could give you everythingā¦ if youād just let me in.ā
Lewisās breath hitched. His eyebrows drew together with something that looked painfully close to regret. He kissed you deeper, slower, tongue sliding wetly against yours as he rolled his hips in the same unhurried rhythm.
āI know, babyā¦ I know you could,ā he groaned, the words breaking into a low, reverent moan as he sank deeper. āYou arenāt the problem. You never were. Itās meā¦ fuck, itās always been me.ā
He kissed you again,Ā long, messy, and heartbreakingly tender, while his cock dragged slow and thick inside your soaked heat. Every thrust was purposeful, sensual in its gentleness.
āBut godā¦ you feel like heaven around me,ā he rasped, voice thick with awe. āSo warmā¦ so goodā¦ taking me so beautifully even after Iāve already filled you up.ā
His hand slid between your bodies, fingers gently stroking where you were joined, feeling how wet and full you still were.
āLook at usā¦ā he murmured against your lips, voice full of wonder. āYouāre still letting me stay inside you like this. My gorgeous girlā¦ so soft and open for me.ā
You whimpered, clenching around him. Lewis answered with a low, shaky groan, forehead resting against yours as he continued those slow, rolling thrusts.
āThatās itā¦ just like that,ā he whispered, kissing you deeply again. āYou feel so good, baby. So perfect. I donāt deserve how good you feel.ā
His praise stayed soft and worshipful, matching the lazy drag of his cock.
āYouāre everything I want and everything Iām terrified of,ā he breathed between kisses. āI could stay buried in you forever, just like this. My beautiful girl, mine.ā
He rolled his hips again, grinding gently so you felt every inch, every slow drag. His mouth never left yours for long, wet kisses that grew messier as the pleasure built, tongues sliding, breaths mingling. You were both moaning softly into each otherās mouths now, the sound low and intimate in the fogged-up car.
Lewisās hand cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek as he kissed you again, slow and deep. āMy perfect angel,ā he whispered, voice trembling with how good it felt. āI donāt know how Iām ever supposed to let you goā¦ā
You both came at the same time, lips still touching, mouths falling open against each other, damp eyes locked in the dim glow of the dashboard lights. The pleasure rolled through you in long, shuddering waves, pulling soft, broken sounds from both of you. Lewisās forehead pressed to yours as he spilled deep inside you again, hips stuttering with each pulse, his quiet moan vibrating against your mouth like a secret only you were allowed to hear.
For a few minutes neither of you moved. All you could do was feel each other breathing, trembling, still connected in the tight space of the car. His hands stroked slow, soothing lines up and down your back, grounding you as the high gently ebbed.
Lewis was the first to speak, voice hoarse and impossibly soft.
āStay right here, baby,ā he murmured, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips before carefully shifting beneath you.
He reached into the glove compartment with one hand, still holding you close with the other, and pulled out a small packet of wipes. The gesture was so quietly thoughtful it made your chest ache. He warmed one between his palms before gently cleaning you, his touch feather-light and reverent, like he was handling something precious he knew he didnāt deserve to keep.
You watched him in silence, heart twisting at the contrast. The same man who had just fucked you raw and desperate now wiping you down with such careful tenderness.
When he was done, he cleaned himself quickly, then pulled your dress back down over your thighs with gentle hands and tucked himself back into his trousers. He didnāt let you climb back into the passenger seat right away. Instead he kept you in his lap a little longer, arms wrapped around you, nose brushing your temple.
āYou okay?ā he asked quietly, voice low and warm against your skin.
You nodded, fingers playing with the chains around his neck. āYeahā¦ Iām okay.ā
He let out a slow breath, pressing a kiss to your hair. āGood. Thatās all I care about right now.ā
The silence that followed wasnāt uncomfortable. It was heavy, but familiar,Ā the same quiet that always settled between you after moments like this. Eventually Lewis kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, each one softer than the last.
āCome on, angel,ā he whispered. āLet me take you back before they start wondering where you are.ā
The drive down the hill was quiet. His hand rested on your thigh the whole way, thumb tracing patterns against your skin. Neither of you spoke much. There wasnāt really anything left to say that hadnāt already been said with bodies and kisses and half-finished warnings.
When he pulled up near the venue, the bass from the party still thumping faintly in the distance, he killed the engine and turned to you. The streetlights painted soft gold across his face, catching on the diamond chains and the faint sheen of sweat still on his skin.
He leaned over and kissed you one last time. Slow, deep, and full of everything he couldnāt promise. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours for a beat.
āIf you ever need me,ā he murmured, voice rough but gentle, āyou know where to find me, baby. Day or night. No questions asked.ā
You nodded, throat tight. You both knew what that really meant.
Lewis watched you step out of the car, eyes following every movement like he was trying to memorise it. Before you could close the door he spoke again, softer this time.
āYou looked beautiful tonight. You always do.ā
You couldn't bring yourself to reply to him. Your eyes lingered on his, the way he frowned ever so slightly, and then you closed the car door. You walked back toward the lights and the music on unsteady legs, the cool night air brushing against skin that still carried the warmth of him. Back to Marco. Behind you, the low rumble of the Ferrari faded as Lewis drove away.
What you didnāt see though, is that he didnāt pull off immediately.
Instead he sat there in the dark, engine idling, one hand still gripping the steering wheel. A heavy sigh left him as he ran his palm over his face, dragging it down until his fingers covered his mouth. His chest ached. A dull, familiar throb right behind his ribs heād started to associate with you. He wasnāt the man you deserved. Not even close. He wasnāt ready for you yet, and he wasnāt sure he ever would be.
He didnāt want to be cruel. He didnāt want to keep hurting you. But he kept doing it anyway. Because every time he saw you, every time you let him touch you, every time you said yes when you should have said noā¦ he fell for you all over again. He needed you, he needed you like he needed air.
Lewis leaned his head back against the seat, eyes closing as a tired, bitter laugh escaped him.
āSuch a fucking dickhead,ā he muttered to the empty car, voice thick with self-disgust and a deep, aching, longing.
He was going to keep hurting you, and the worst part was that he already knew you were going to keep letting him back in.
tags: @70srogertaylor @forzalewis44xo @mikaissance @saintslewis @liveloungeharry @knowinglewis @dr-hamilton @palefacestudentlove @lulusgowild @dewylewis44 @yeoldebytche @raysmayhem-72 @dolyswonderland @vintagesoul-01 @thegirlinblackgreensilver @aashimania @iamquiantrelle @misolii @butterflykey @magnificentlyrainythunder @moonballspls122 @scenesofobx @nebulastarr @thesizzler @africandiasporagoods44(some of these tags are from january 2026, if u dont want to be tagged anymore pls let me know <3)
LITERALLY THE PERFECT FIC š oh my goodness Iāve been soooo excited for this one and it did NOT disappoint!! I know things have been dramatic lately, but this really brought me back to the good times. Lo has done it again šš¤
My inbox is chocka rn but I promise Iām not ignoring you lovelies, I will reply when I can! For those asking about fics, I promise I am still writing when I can! More of The One is definitely coming I promise youuu š¤š¤
Iām truly sorry that Iāve been so slow lately, just been so busy with life and I feel terrible that I keep mentioning fics, but I just havenāt finished them yet š so many half written WIPs I wish I had the time to finish, but I do cycle between them whenever I can so I can get something posted soon!
Babes those beach pics were so staged like literally people who donāt even care for either of them like that called it out too!! DM writing a whole article about it too was brutal šš
Nah I feel you, itās frustrating like I love him, but heās making it veryyyy hard hahaha weāve survived so much in the past years, but unfortunately this is a whole new low and I fear that if this gets any worse, it will obliterate even more of team LH because soooo many of my faves are already gone and it doesnāt seem like there are many of us still standing šš
We are truly in the trenches when youāve got him of all people talking about him publicly šš
Hopefully heāll heed those words though and move tf on, like this is a new low fr to be in the mouths of everyone at this level. Heās always been talked about for many different reasons, but to have tacky people out here yapping because you chose to associate yourself with the tackiest of them all is just ughhhh brotherrrr
I miss him so much man, this is the first time since when iāve seen him alone at some place?? And god itās been a while since iāve seen him genuinely smile without looking like heās fighting constipation itās good to seešš
Same here š I miss him a lot, itās such a shame that every second weāve seen of him lately has been garbage after garbage. It was nice to see him supporting his bestie properly without that thing hanging off him for her pap moments. Glad she at least stayed her ass in the back lounge or whatever š
Good lord THIS is what I wake up to??? I hope those of you who were begging for this are happy because I was assaulted with those staged ass pics at 6am šš
