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prettyfastcars · 1 month

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hiding all of our sins | Mob!Lewis

Summary: Your father had a lot of enemies, and naturally after his death those enemies began pestering and threatening you. When your own home began to feel unsafe, you turned to Lewis for help. Lewis – your late father’s best friend and the only person in the world that you could trust. Lewis promises to take care of you, and reassures you that you’re safe with him. He seems like a perfect knight in shining armour, but he’s not exactly a saint… is he? Perhaps his chivalry masks an ulterior motive.

Themes: mob!lewis, smut, fluff, praise kink, slight angst, mentions of death and violence, age gap (reader is in her early twenties), explicit language

You always waited by the door for him.

Lewis had been gone for quite some days this time. Usually his work trips are short, but he’d been gone for more than a week. You tried not to think about how miserable you’d been without him here.

You sighed just thinking about how you spent your days all alone, with only the housekeeping staff around, in the big house. You weren’t complaining though, you were grateful for it. For everything Lewis gave you. The security, the warmth, a home where you weren’t paranoid all the time.

You were grateful for Lewis. Sometimes you wondered what would’ve happened to you if he hadn’t offered a helping hand when he did.

Lewis came into your life after your father’s passing. But your father always spoke of him. They were childhood best friends. They grew up together, and later on became powerful, rich, and Machiavellian rulers together as well. But Lewis moved away in order to expand his empire even more and never visited.

He and your father kept in touch though.

Your family was small, it was just you and your father. And he had kept you sheltered your entire life. So when time came to leave home and move for uni, it was hard on both of you. You’d never been out in the ‘normal’ world before, you were always homeschooled and your friends were always other homeschooled kids – whose parents were friends with your father. So your circle was small as well.

And your father worried too much about you not being safe at home anymore. And unfortunately, he seemed to have worried himself to death. Because barely a year into uni, you received a call from home telling you that your father had passed due to a sudden heart failure.

Your whole world came crumbling down then. You would’ve been buried beneath the rubbles as well had Lewis not offered you his helping hand at the right time.

At your father’s funeral, that was the first time you’d met Lewis in real life. All this time he’d only ever been a voice on the phone. But he was there for you now.

He was there for you all throughout the funeral, took care of the planning and everything. He stood with you and held your hand at the cemetery even after everyone was gone. Lewis was somehow always where you needed him to be. Right beside you.

After your dad, it was up to you to handle all the businesses and what not. And you weren’t well equipped to do that. Plus, some people – rivals – saw it as an opportunity to scare you, hoping you’d offer them everything, give it all up and run. Some chose to appoint you as their new target, in place of your father: sending you threatening notes which always found their way into your car, your home, by the pool, everywhere. They also began poaching your staff, employees, even some of your guards.

And your home didn’t feel safe anymore. You couldn’t sleep at night, hadn’t been able to for days because you were constantly worried about your safety. Every little sound, every little creak made you panic, made you think that someone was in your home and were about to hurt you.

That’s when you turned to Lewis.

And he was ever so kind to help. Within a day or two you had packed your whole life and moved in with Lewis, in his luxurious home.

At first you thought it’d be awkward living with him. After all, you had never met him your whole life. He was much older than you, wiser too. And he was always calm, always knew what to do and what to say. He intimidated you at first. But then you got past the cold exterior, and he quickly became the warmest presence in your life. Comforting. Safe.

And you wouldn’t lie, you had a silly crush on him. How could you not? He was handsome, and beyond charming. He had the most gentle voice, and the most addicting laughter. He had ink all over his smooth skin, and his hugs were soothing even though he had hard muscles all over. And he had the kind of smile that could make your knees weak.

You were lost in thoughts of him, so much that you didn’t even realise the front door was opening up to reveal the man himself stepping into the house.

“Lewis!” You squealed, running into his waiting, open arms.

He laughed as he caught you, wrapping his big arms around you and holding you so close like he’d never let go. You buried your face into the cool material of his suit and breathed in his signature scent. Dark and powerful.

“I’ve missed you too, princess.” He murmured against your skin as he kissed your forehead.

“You’ve been gone for too long this time.” You whined against his warm neck, feeling the cold pearls of his necklace brushing against your mouth. You gave them a soft kiss without him noticing. Something about him always made you behave like a spoiled little princess, always wanting more of his time and attention, always whining and complaining.

“I’m sorry,” He cupped your face so you’d look at him, “But I’m here now. Okay?”

You nodded quickly, then smiled at him like he was all that mattered in the world. “Come, let’s eat.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him further into his home, towards the dining room. “I asked the chef to let me make dinner tonight.”

“You did?” He let you drag him all the way to the dining room.

The pride in his voice made you bloom. “I did! All by myself.”

When he finally saw the dining table, he turned to face you with a gentle smirk. With his braids tied at the back like this, he looked younger than he was. “I love how extra you are, princess.”

You led him to his chair and said, “I’m not extra, I just like using the fancy stuff.”

He reached out and grabbed your wrist before you could turn around. Bringing your hand up to his soft mouth, kissing it and then he murmured, “Well, you laying the table with the fancy stuff is very much appreciated, princess.”

You smiled at him again before you took your seat. He sat at the head of the enormous table, and you to his right. He asked you about how your week without him went while he poured wine into two glasses. He listened to your whining and complaining with a soft smile on his pretty face while you both ate.

You asked him about his work and as usual, he gave you the briefest of details. When you pried some more he always told you that he would rather keep you as far away from that life as possible – like your father did.

And then, of course, the mention and memory of your late father always put a pout on your lips and a frown on your face. Lewis hated it. So he reached for your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“I hate seeing you upset, princess.” He said, rubbing his thumb across your skin. Caressing it in a way that made you relax immediately.

You let out a sigh. “I just wish he would’ve taught me how this world works.” You said, your tone full of regret. “Maybe I could’ve handled things on my own after he was gone, instead of piling all my troubles on top of you.”

“Hey,” He said, rather sternly. “Look at me.” When you finally looked up from your plate, Lewis gave your hand another reassuring squeeze. “Your father wanted to keep you away from the dangers of this life. And I intend to keep you safe as well. As for handling things on his or your behalf, well it’s an honour.”

You smiled at Lewis. A softer smile. There were instances like this one where all you wanted to do was climb onto his lap, wrap your arms around him and never let him go. “Thank you, Lewis.”

“You know I’d do anything for you, princess.” He wanted to get rid of that sombre look on your face, so he suggested, “Now, how about we have a movie night?”

Your face lit up immediately. “Okay, I’ll go get changed and make us snacks.” You spoke as you got up.

Lewis got up as well, saying he’d meet you downstairs in the living room after a quick shower.

—

You rushed to your room and got changed into your most comfiest PJs, before almost running to the pantry in the kitchen to find the best snacks. You gathered your goods in the living room and waited for a few minutes, but Lewis didn’t come.

So you walked back up, down the corridor and all the way to his room. You knocked twice before entering, then heard the shower going. You almost turned around to leave but then you caught the scent of his body wash – invigorating, appealing, earthy, and incredibly masculine. Somehow that made you stay.

And instead of walking out of his bedroom, you threw yourself onto his comfy bed. You stretched and rolled around lazily like a sleepy kitten who’s found the most perfect sunlit spot. So there you stayed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone and eventually drowned out the sound of Lewis’ shower.

A few minutes passed and you didn’t even realise that the shower had been turned off. The sound of the bathroom door knob turning made you freeze, and a second later Lewis was standing in front of you with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“I didn’t hear you come in.” He said, standing there in front of the bed with a playful smile on his face. You remained speechless. He added, “I noticed some of your stuff in my bathroom. Care to explain?”

Your brain barely even registered the words that came out of his mouth because you were mesmerised by the sight of him. The water drops sliding down his abs, the tattooed skin glistening, and that damn towel wrapped so low, so carelessly. Your heart pounded.

Lewis took a few steps forward, coming to a stop at the end of his king size canopy bed. He braced a muscular arm against one of the posts, “I also noticed some of your things on my bedside. And now that I think about it, there was also a ‘you’ size dent in my bed when I walked in.” He had that same boyish, playful smirk. “Did you nap in here, princess?”

You finally peeled your eyes away from that deliciously distracting nautical compass tattoo in the middle of his chest, and stared into his dark brown eyes while his previous questions finally registered in your brain. The moment they did, you groaned and hid your face into a nearby pillow.

Lewis laughed as he came to the side of the bed, reaching out to tickle you until you faced him again while laughing hysterically. “I’m sorry, okay?” You tried to run, but he grabbed you by the ankle and dragged you back, and ended up pinning you to his bed. “I’m sorry.” You repeated, giggling and now unable to hide.

He pinned your wrists on either side of your head, leaning over you as he spoke. “I didn’t ask for an apology. You can do whatever you want in this house,” He smirked. “I asked for an explanation. Now, did you sleep in here while I was gone?” He prayed you didn’t look down, otherwise you’d see the huge bulge forming behind the towel.

The thought of you in here? On his bed? Sleeping peacefully while he was away dealing with work? It made him puff up with how much he liked it.

You groaned again, and tried to escape but he threatened to tickle you until you were breathless again so you finally confessed, “Okay fine, I slept here the whole time you were away.” You sounded a little embarrassed as you said so.

“You did?”

You nodded, looking up sheepishly at him. “It helps.” You said. You couldn’t get over how good he looked above you.

Lewis frowned. “Sleeping in my bed helps? With what?”

You whined in embarrassment, then said, “You know, the funny feeling.”

“What funny feeling, princess?”

Instead of talking, you twisted your hand free from his grasp and held his hand while you guided it over to where you wanted. You urged his hand to cup you in between your legs. Lewis sucked in a sudden breath as he did, cupping you through the satin shorts of your PJs.

“Right here?” He questioned with a deeper, raspier voice, looking up to meet your eyes. He found you with parted lips and a hazy look in your eyes. You nodded at his question. “And you get this often?”

“Only when I think of you.”

His fingers gave you an experimental squeeze, pressing into your clothed flesh. And you gasped at the foreign but welcomed feeling.

“Well then, I better see what this is about.”

You watched how he let go of your wrists, grabbed the waistband of your shorts and slowly dragged them down your legs. He threw them behind him somewhere before placing his warm, rough and tattooed hands on your thighs, spreading them.

You gasped as he slid a gentle finger up and down your slit through your thin underwear. You watched his tattooed finger moving slowly in between your shaking thighs, and when you looked up you found him staring down at you with nothing but hunger in his eyes.

“Please.” You murmured.

Lewis smirked. It felt like a warning for the coming danger. “And this funny feeling… how did it go away, princess?”

You whimpered both under his touch and at his question.

When you didn’t respond, he leaned down and mumbled as he kissed along your exposed throat. “Answer me.”

You whimpered at the tone of voice he used, which made you grind against his finger instinctively. “I… I took care of it.”

“How?” He kissed his way up to your chin, biting your skin playfully and making your back arch off the bed. “Hmm?” He sounded almost stern again. “Show me how you did it.”

He pulled away then, his finger no longer touching your skin as he stood on the side of the bed. You looked down and that towel around his waist was ready to come undone at any moment. And that made you clench your thighs tighter together.

“Show you?”

“Mhmm,” He nodded. “I wanna see.”

The look in his eyes gave you a strange rush. Like a boost of confidence. So you held his stare as you took the rest of your clothes off, dropping them carelessly on the bed before you grabbed the nearest pillow and straddled it.

You watched how his breathing deepened, even when he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against one of the bed posts. Like he wanted a show.

So you gave him one. You humped his pillow right in front of him until you were a moaning, whimpering mess. Your fingers naturally found their way to your breasts, fondling and toying with them as you moved your hips, grinding on the pillow.

You were carried away by the satisfying feeling in between your thighs. Your eyes were closed the whole time, so you didn’t see him as he moved closer. You only realised he was indeed close to you again when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, preventing you from moving.

You opened your eyes and found Lewis’ face mere inches away from yours. You were breathing heavily, and he looked like he was barely able to hold back.

“So this is what you did while I was gone?”

You nodded.

“And did you think of me when you came? Each time?” His voice was almost unrecognisable. Deep. Dangerous.

You nodded again.

Lewis frowned like he was in pain. “Oh princess…” He whispered, leaning in just enough so that when he spoke, his lips brushed against your parted ones. “Now, can you do what you did to the pillow but on my face?” He asked, so casually that it took you a moment to process his words.

“What?”

He smirked again, “You heard me. Come sit on my face.”

You barely had time to be coy. He was already moving into the position he wanted, with you holding onto the headboard and kneeling on the bed while his face found its way in between your thighs.

You’d never been this intimate with anyone before, and Lewis sensed your brief hesitation. But then he kissed your inner thighs as you hovered above him and he said, “It’s okay, princess. It’s just me. I’m dying to see what you taste like.” His arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place as he urged you to lower yourself down to his waiting mouth. He lifted his head up just a little to give your pussy a soft kiss. “This belongs to me, don’t keep it from me. Now sit.”

You whimpered as you did. And he was ready for it, his eager mouth latched onto your clit and he worked his mouth like his life depended on it. Sucking and licking and shoving his tongue past your wet folds, occasionally moving his head side to side.

You moaned out loud, throwing your head back as your hands held onto the headboard for support. His tongue worked wonders against your sensitive clit, making you feel all tingly and warm as you dripped all over his mouth.

“You taste so fucking good, princess…” he murmured against your wetness as you gently rolled your hips against his face, smearing your arousal all over his lips and chin, grinding against his tongue like you did the pillow. His teeth grazed your swollen, sensitive clit until he had you moaning loudly against him.

Your hips moved against his face as he licked each and every drop of what you gave him.

“Fuck, princess.” He groaned, closing his eyes and humming loudly at your taste. He adored the sounds you made above him. He even forgot that he was himself throbbing with need because he was determined to make you come. He’d dreamt of this, of having your thighs wrapped around his head and to taste you and make you come all over his tongue. “Come for me, baby.” He whispered.

You were so close even he could feel it. Your thighs clenched around his head even harder. His hands rubbed up and down your skin, caressing you as he tasted you leisurely like he had all the time in the world.

You looked down at one point and found him with his eyes closed, enjoying himself, happy to be there and that did it. You came with a loud cry, grinding harder against his tongue. You were shaking, trying to calm down after that mind bending orgasm, and before you knew it Lewis was behind you.

Kneeling behind you with his legs outside of yours, that damn towel discarded, his warm chest pressing into your back. His arms wrapped around you and his mouth kissed your neck from behind.

“You taste like heaven, princess.” He mumbled into your ear, his hand drifting down your body to tease your clit again while his other hand wrapped around your throat. “I’m gonna fuck this delicious little pussy now, okay?”

You nodded quickly, whimpering as his fingers spread you open for him while he pushed into you again from behind. “Fuck…” You moaned quietly.

There was nothing gentle about him this time. Unlike earlier, he was now wild, and passionate, moving in and out of you, fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. “That’s a good girl,” He murmured when he noted that you pushed back against him, meeting each one of his thrusts. “That’s it, princess…”

He tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you, growling right in your ear and telling you that you belonged to him, “You’re all mine now. All mine.”

You were a moaning mess, holding onto the headboard to keep yourself upright while he pounded into you from behind. His braid had come undone from the ponytail they were in and now tickled your skin as he brushed his warm mouth against your skin.

“No need for the pillow now, baby, you hear me? You can just walk in here and take whatever you want from me,” He gripped your hips and slammed in and out of you, grunting in the process. “Anything you want, you can have it. My hands, my tongue, my cock… it’s all yours, princess.”

The pleasure became too much to handle, and you felt a familiar pressure forming in between your hips. His tight grip on your body would surely leave a bruise, but Lewis didn’t care.

“Do you even have an idea of how obsessed I am with you?” He released your throat and placed his hand on your abdomen, pressing down on your front so he can feel himself inside you with each thrust. His fingers rubbing your clit quickened then. “You feel me deep inside you, baby?”

You nodded, moaning and gasping in pleasure.

“This is how I’m gonna keep you now, always full of me,” He growled, teasing your earlobe while he pounded into your mercilessly.

You whined loudly when both his hands gripped your waist, pulling you into him harshly each time, speeding up until you came all over his cock. It didn’t take him long to come after that, buried deep inside you and filling you up like he’d always dreamt of doing.

You were shivering after he was done with you, whimpering and sore as he pulled both of you down on the bed, pulling you closer to him. He snuggled you until you stopped trembling.

“Did I hurt you, princess?” He asked, kissing your face.

“No,” You murmured. Then shyly added, “Can we do that again?”

Lewis laughed, wrapping you tightly in his arms as you wrapped around him like a koala bear. “Anytime, baby.”

And there you were finally, in his arms.

This wasn’t quite how he had planned it in his head. Lewis had grown envious of his childhood friend. The initial plan was to get rid of your father, earn your trust enough until you handed everything – the properties, the money, the trained guards, all of it – to him, and the final part of the plan was to get rid of you.

Making your father’s death seem natural was easy. But that last part of his plan never happened. It almost did, but then he saw you that day at the cemetery, looking sad, teary-eyed and so, so beautiful.

Things changed then. He still took everything, but didn’t get rid of you. He couldn’t. He was obsessed, and he needed you closer, wanted you living with him and so he found a way to make your family home seem unsafe.

Planting those notes was too easy.

And next thing he knew, you were begging him for help. So he took you in, and kept you. Obedient and needy for him. His princess, now forever. His sins, all of it hidden perfectly.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton au #lewis hamilton smut #mob!lewis #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 fanfic

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prettyfastcars · 2 months

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Darkest little paradise | Mob!Lewis

Summary: You and Lewis are childhood best friends. You know him better than anyone, and you’re one of the few people he actually trusts fully. But Lewis has been keeping secrets from you. And when you find out exactly what he's been hiding, nothing is ever the same again.

Themes: mob!lewis, angst, smut, possessive!lewis, virgin!reader, fluff, slight degrading kink, explicit language, slightly dark!mob!lewis, friends to enemies to lovers ish

Out of all places, he didn’t expect to find you out on your balcony drinking by yourself.

Lewis had received a phone call from your very worried father earlier, the latter told him that you weren’t picking up any calls, and asked him to check on you to see what was wrong. Your parents were travelling and they were worried about you being alone when they suspected that you were upset.

Lewis was confused as to why you didn’t reach out to him if you were really upset. Usually you texted him regarding every minor happening throughout the day.

“Hey, princess,” He called out gently, stepping out onto the penthouse balcony to join you. “Your dad called me, he wanted me to see how you were doing. Everything… alright?”

Dumb question, he knew. Of course nothing was alright if you were out here drinking alone. You looked like you had been crying too. Puffy red eyes, dried tears on your cheek. It was night time, and the city sparkled below like a shimmery tapestry. Yet you looked devastated, like you couldn’t even bring yourself to admire the citylights.

The moment you looked up and met Lewis’ eyes, you felt like running into his arms and crying again. Lewis had always been your safe place. You two grew up together. Your families had been friends for decades. Your father and Lewis did business together, both of them powerful, feared, and respected in this city. But to you he was just your best friend. He was there right beside you for everything; school, high school, uni, graduation, vacations, all your good days and bad days, everything.

But you knew you would feel dizzy if you got up so you remained seated on the lounge chair, sipping on more wine. You were one and a half bottles down.

When you remained quiet, Lewis walked up to you and stood by the chair just watching you. He could tell you were a bit drunk, but the bottles of wine weren’t his main concern.

He was more bothered by what you were wearing.

Your families had been on enough vacations around the world for Lewis to have seen you in all sorts of swimwear. But right now, as you were dressed in nothing but dark red, lacy, see-through lingerie, it felt risqué and intimate. Thankfully you had a satin robe on, though it didn’t leave much to the imagination. It was driving Lewis insane. He had to clench his fists and take a deep breath in order to get his brain to function properly, and not be distracted by the amount of skin that you were showing.

Did someone, other than him, see you like this?

“Why are you dressed like that?” He tried his best to keep his displeasure hidden, but if you had been sober enough you would’ve surely caught the bitterness and jealousy in his voice.

You looked up at him, and sighed. Everything seemed blurry in your drunken state.

“You look so handsome,” You murmured, then chuckled humorlessly. “Were you out doing scary things while looking insanely good again?” You teased, and sipped on your wine again. He did look good, then again he always did. But right now, dressed in an all black suit, his braids tied into a low ponytail, his chains and rings… “Your nose stud looks extra sparkly tonight.” You commented, hiccuping after.

Lewis let out a sigh, then shoved his hands in his pockets. “Why are you dressed like that? And why are you drinking alone? Did something happen?” He asked.

That made you tear up again as his questions allowed the hurt to come flooding back in again. After a few seconds of silence, you answered, “I had a date tonight.”

“What?” Lewis’ blood pumped faster than ever.

You repeated, sounding more upset than earlier and on the verge of crying. “I had a date tonight.”

He waited for you to give him more details, unsure of what to say.

You continued, beginning to slur a little. “We were gonna have a cute date night. I made dinner, I got all dressed up,” You went to take another sip of wine but Lewis snatched your glass from you, and the look in his eyes told you that you weren’t getting that glass back. You sighed and resumed talking, “But he didn’t show up. I texted him, I called, I waited for an hour. Then his text came and he said he doesn’t feel like he’s ready for a relationship and what not.”

“Well, at least he didn’t waste your time.” He said, trying to sound supportive. “If he didn’t like you, then–,”

You cut him off, “I don’t care about being liked. I wanted him to fuck me.”

Lewis froze again. His hand around the wine glass tightened to a point where he thought it might shatter but it didn’t. “Is that why you’re wearing that?”

You rolled your eyes at him dramatically, “What do you think, Lew?”

His hands were shaking. He didn’t know how to react to that. The two of you had been close all these years, but this was new territory. “Let’s get inside.” He said, already walking away expecting you to follow him.

But you didn’t move.

“What’s wrong with me?” You asked, making Lewis stop and turn around to face you again. Once you met his eyes again, you asked, “Why does this always happen to me?” You sniffled, wiping the tears that fell down your cheeks. “Am I not pretty enough?”

Lewis sighed and walked over to where you sat. He placed the wine glass down and grabbed you by the arms, pulling you up. He kept an arm around you because he knew you’d be dizzy. “Who said you’re not pretty, princess?”

You looked at him with teary eyes. “Then why doesn’t anyone want me?”

He pulled you closer, looking at you with soft eyes. “Maybe he’s an idiot. Maybe he’s–,”

“But it’s not just him.” You sniffled, followed by a sob. “Everyone I’ve ever dated, they…” You hiccuped, “No one ever wants me. Everything feels great on the first dates, but then something always happens and they just… leave. Most of them never even tell me why, they just ghost me.”

Lewis kept his poker face on as you wrapped your arms around him, finally feeling safe enough in his arms to cry your heart out. You sobbed, not worried about how your nearly naked body pressed up against him. You didn’t know you were driving him mad.

“I just wanna feel wanted. And desired.” You cried on his shoulder, and he hugged you until your sobs fading into soft sniffles. “I want to experience things too, I deserve it, don’t I?” Lewis’ arms were warm around you, and that was all you needed. “I just wanna feel pretty.”

“But you are pretty.” Lewis said, his voice soft and quiet. “You’re the prettiest girl I know.”

You were quiet for a few moments, then said, “But even you don’t want me.”

Lewis froze for a moment, then pulled away quickly, cupping your face so you’d look at him. “What’s gotten into you?”

More tears fell down your face silently, Lewis wiped them away. This was way different than all the times he comforted you. There was a line you were both crossing here and you both knew that.

“If we weren’t best friends, and if I’d let you–”

“You’re drunk.” Lewis cut you off.

But you continued, sniffling. “Would you? Would you want me, Lew? Am I pretty enough for you?” Before Lewis could answer, you grabbed his hand and guided it over to your chest. Another fell down your cheek.

“Stop.” Lewis warned.

“Please…” You whispered, placing his hand over the lacy material covering your breast. The warmth of his hand made you shiver. “I’d let you do anything.” Your voice dropped to a whisper.

Lewis fought himself to remain in control. He could feel your racing heartbeats, your warmth and the softness of your skin. You were upset and hurting, and if he did anything, it would be wrong because clearly you weren’t thinking straight.

One moment he was looking at you like he was in pain, and the next he pulled his hand away from your chest and wrapped it around your throat instead, making your eyes widen at the sudden rough movement.

“Stop saying shit like that.” He hissed, in a lowered voice he had never used on you before. He tightened his grip around your neck just enough to have your full attention. “Now get inside, take this fucking outfit off of you and get some sleep.” His dark brown eyes stared into yours. “Stop acting like a needy brat, and do as I say.”

With that he let go of you, pushing you away carefully. You wiped your tears and basically ran inside your penthouse.

Lewis stayed out on the spacious balcony for a while longer, mainly to calm himself down but also waiting for his throbbing erection to calm down as well. Fuck. He wasn’t expecting that.

After a while, Lewis walked back into your penthouse. He went straight into your bedroom and found you sulking in bed. Thank fuck you were not wearing that flimsy lacy thing anymore. It looked like you had had a shower as well.

He grabbed a cold water bottle from your mini fridge and brought it over to you, sitting down on the edge of your bed as he handed it to you after taking the cap off. You accepted it quietly and took a few sips.

He noticed you were avoiding his eyes. “Talk to me.” He said. He hated it whenever you two fought or argued, which you very rarely did.

“I’m sorry.” You finally whispered, “I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know. You don’t have to apologise.” He stood up, and said, “Look, I have to fly somewhere for work. I’ll see you back at your father’s house in a few days, okay?”

Every fortnight Lewis and your dad got together to discuss business, and your families used that as an excuse for a get together each time. You nodded, still avoiding his eyes.

“Hey,” Lewis bent down and tapped you on the nose playfully. “Don’t worry too much. Get some sleep, you need it.”

He gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead, and didn’t leave until you gave him a faint smile back.

—

Lewis couldn’t get that night out of his head. He was being plagued with what ifs. What if he had taken your offer? What if you two had slept together? Would you have woken up and regretted it? What would have happened if you found out that he was responsible for scaring away every man who ever tried to date you? Would you hate him? Would he lose you?

No. He couldn’t lose you. You were his best friend. All he ever wanted was to keep you away from assholes who could never treat you right. One of those assholes being that guy who turned you down that night he found you drinking on the balcony. Lewis was the reason behind that text the guy sent you.

He hated it, indirectly being the reason behind why you were upset after each failed relationship.

Which is why he swore to never let you know what he did behind your back each time a man showed even the slightest bit of interest in you. He would never let you know how he stalked them. How he found every dirty secret about them and held it over their heads. How he often had to get physical and anonymously beat them up. How he followed and kept an eye on you from a distance each time you went on a date.

But he couldn’t tell you the truth, could he? He couldn’t tell you that he was the one who threatened every boyfriend you’d ever had. He could tell you that he told them if they touched you, he would kill them. He couldn’t tell you that he had been doing that since you had your first boyfriend in high school.

He had lost count of how many times he’d followed the men home and held his gun to their heads until they deleted your number and promised to leave the city. He hated that you got hurt in the process, each time. But this was necessary, wasn’t it?

After all, you were his. Why should anyone else have you?

He had waited his entire life for you to see him in that way. For you to realise that he was right there, and that he could treat you right. What sucked the most was that the first time you ever showed interest in him in that way, that night on the balcony, you were not sober at all. Lewis felt like an afterthought. And he hated it.

But he was a patient man. He had waited years, and he would wait some more if that’s what it took for you to see him in that light.

—

Your families, as per usual, got together at your father’s mansion for your biweekly lunch. Lunch and business talk were just excuses anyway. All of you just used the time to catch up, cook together, lounge by the pool, play games. And it always, always ended up becoming like a weekend getaway for everyone.

Lewis looked forward to it, as he always did. Not to discuss business with your father but just to see you. When you were kids you two used to never sleep during these weekends. You’d build forts, and get lost in the hedge maze and play by the pool for hours. As you got older, playtime turned into movie nights.

But this weekend, something was different.

“Hi dad, hey Lewis!” You called out, looking happier than usual. Which Lewis found weird because less than a week ago you were drinking alone on your balcony, nursing a broken heart.

Both men looked up at you, replying to your greeting from where they were sitting in your father’s office. But you breezed past them, disappearing down the hallway faster than Lewis could ask what had you in such a good mood. You were almost skipping.

He made a mental note to ask you about it over lunch later.

But he never got to do that since you were completely engrossed in your phone at the lunch table. And everyone kept talking to him and he had to reply to them mindlessly all while his entire attention was on you. Especially since you kept smiling down at your phone.

A multitude of possibilities crossed his mind. And he hated every single one that had to do with you being involved with another man. He decided he’d confront you about it later.

–

By the time Lewis managed to get to alone to talk to you, it was already night time. He’d missed dinner because he had important phone calls to take. And by the time he returned back to the dining room, everyone was drunk and you had already left.

So here he was now, waiting for you in your bedroom. When you were younger, Lewis used to make fun of you for having an all pink room. After all, your father’s mansion was a behemoth, Georgian style mansion, complete with luxurious dark interior, all except your girly pink room.

So then one day you got tired of his teasing and demanded an all black and gold room. You were fifteen then, and now many years later, the room hadn’t changed one bit.

Lewis was looking around, noticing everything that hadn’t changed in many years, when you walked in. Still with that big smile on your face.

“Oh hey Lew, ready for movie night?” You closed the door behind you and began dimming the lights, already searching for the TV remote. “Should we watch a musical?”

Meanwhile Lewis was standing there, in the middle of your room, looking all confused. Finally he asked, “What is going on with you?”

You kept lifting the cushions on the sofas, looking under them to find the remote as you mindlessly asked, “What do you mean?”

“Stop.” He called out, wanting your attention. “Look at me!”

That tone of his made you stop. This was the second time he’d used that voice on you now. The first time was that night he found you drinking alone.

You turned to face him. You were used to this, him standing in your childhood bedroom, wearing nothing but his usual sweatpants, braids untied. Lewis had always been handsome, yet right now as he looked at you with a strange anger in his eyes, you couldn’t focus on anything else.

“What is it?” You asked, leaning against the sofa for support as Lewis’ eyes stared deep into your soul. He was your best friend, but you had seen the way he worked. You knew why he was so feared and respected. Lewis could be intense sometimes.

“You just seem…,” He crossed his arms over his chest, “Happy. All of a sudden. I mean, I found you heartbroken on your balcony just a few days ago and now you’re basically skipping with joy all over the place.” He said it like it was the most odd thing he’d ever seen.

“Oh Lewis,” You chuckled. “Maybe I am happy.” You said, moving away from the sofa and stepping closer to him. “I wasn’t gonna sit and let a man decide if he wanted me or not. I thought maybe I should take matters into my own hands and, you know, get out and find what I want on my own.”

Lewis frowned. “What does that mean?” His heart began racing again. He’d been away these last few days, and he was just now realising that you had barely texted him at all.

You avoided his eyes with a coy smile and said, “My girlfriends and I went clubbing the other night,” You looked up at him with a mischievous smirk, “And there was this guy, and he seemed really nice, and…” You trailed off, smirking some more, “Well, you know, we kind of hooked up in his car and–,”

One moment you were talking, and the next Lewis had you pinned to the nearest wall. His tattooed hand wrapped around your throat, keeping you in place as he leaned in with a murderous look in his eyes.

“Who the fuck touched you?” He whispered, looking like he was trying really hard to keep his anger contained. “Just give me a name, and I swear I will–,”

“So it was you.” You cut him off this time, your voice shaky and your eyes beginning to tear up.

Lewis frowned.

“This whole time, you’re the one making decisions about my life.” You watched how his face fell when he realised that you figured it out. “You had no right, Lewis.”

“Yes I did.” He argued, leaning closer. “Now tell me who the fuck touched you?”

You hated him at that moment. But his scent was familiar, his touch was warm as always. He was still that person who held you each time you crumbled down. He was still your best friend, but you were angry.

“No one did. I had a theory, I wanted to see if it was true so I lied.” You sighed. “I never went clubbing, I didn’t hook up with anyone.” You explain. “ You know, I always wondered why you never seemed bothered like a true friend would each time I came crying to you about how I got stood up, ignored, or ghosted.” You scoffed, “Turns out it was you who hurt me each time.” You accused. “Why couldn’t you let me be with who I wanted?”

“No one was ever good enough for you.” He whispered, his face just inches away from yours.

“That’s not for you to decide, Lewis!” You sniffled, then raised your voice. “I’m an adult, I can be with whoever I want to be. I can sleep with whoever I want to–,”

“No.” He said calmly, like he was stating facts. “You’re mine. They don’t get to touch you.”

You struggled against him, and he loosened his grip around your neck a little but pressed his body against yours, keeping you trapped between himself and your bedroom wall. “I thought you cared.” You whispered. “Thought you wanted me to be happy.”

Lewis pressed his forehead against yours, his other hand holding you at your waist. “You will be happy. You’ll be the happiest girl in this world.” He added, gently. “With me.”

The audacity in his voice pissed you off. You shoved at his chest, managing to only push him an inch or two away. You forgot just how physically strong he was, but you were too angry to care.

“I decide who I want to be happy with!” You yelled at his face. The mansion was big enough that no one else would hear you two arguing. “You don’t own me like you think you do!”

Lewis chuckled, in that arrogant way of his, with his nose in the air. “You are mine.”

“Why? Because you think so?” You scoffed, shaking your head at him. “What did you do to them anyway? Scare them off? Use them as punching bags? Throw them in your torture dungeons that I pretend don’t exist?” You never thought you’d ever say these words to him, but you didn’t care. He crossed a line.

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Maybe I did worse things, I had to get rid of so many boys I had to get creative.” Lewis gave you a dangerous smile, “You know I would do anything for you.”

Those words, that voice, it sent shivers down your spine. “Lewis.” You warned, your brain seemed to just realise that this man was more than just your best friend. He was, after all, known for his ruthless ways.

He smirked, stepping closer to you again. One hand on your waist, the other grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. His bare chest pressing against yours, only separated by the thin material of your PJ top. Your breathing got shaky, your brain got foggy. There was an unfamiliar tension in the air this time. It felt tangible the moment he easily shoved his thigh in between your legs.

“What is it, princess? Now you’re scared of me?” He sounded cocky, and powerful.

You stared into his big brown eyes. “I hate you.” You said, lying to his face. His handsome face. Flawless, like the rest of him.

“Why?” Lewis smirked, “Because I kept assholes who would waste your time away from you? I’d say I did my duty as your friend. Isn’t that what friends do? Protect each other? Hmm?”

You hated how he talked to you in that condescending tone. Mostly you hated how that tone made your body tingle. “I’ll tell my dad what you did.” You realised that only made you sound naïve.

Lewis chuckled, “He’ll just think you’re throwing one of your bratty fits.”

“I hate you, Lewis.” You repeated.

“Oh you do?” He raised an eyebrow at you, mocking you. “I’ll believe you when you stop humping my thigh like that.”

Your face burned when you realised that you’d been grinding on his thigh without thinking ever since he shoved it in between your legs. You froze and tried to push him away again but he wouldn’t let you.

“Where are you going?” He said as you struggled against him. “What about this?” He pointed at the damp patch you left behind on his thigh. Your face burned even more as you looked at it. “Won’t you let me take care of that for you? Clearly your pussy is crying for attention.”

“I don’t want you to touch me.” You didn’t sound convincing at all when you said it.

That look in his eyes, his soft lips, the familiar scent of his, all that golden skin on display, the tattooed, rough hand holding your face… he was making it hard for you to think straight. And he knew. Judging by that smug look on his face, you could tell he knew.

“Oh?” He taunted. “I remember perfectly well how just a couple of nights ago you almost begged me to fuck you.” He teased, “You even said you’d let me do anything to you.” He chuckled dangerously, like a villain. “Bet you would’ve even gotten on your knees and begged for me properly if I asked you to. You were that desperate for some cock in you. Do you remember that, princess?”

His words made you breathless. On one hand he had crossed some boundaries, on the other he was giving you exactly what you craved, making you feel wanted and desired in his own dark, twisted ways.

When he pressed his body against yours even more, you could feel something hard pressing against your abdomen. You gasped, looking into his eyes which were filled with a kind of hunger you had never seen before. It made you want to clench your thighs together, but with his legs in between yours, you couldn’t.

“You feel that?” He rolled his hips in a way that made you very aware of his erection. “This is what I had to deal with for years whenever I was around you, always hoping and waiting you’d see that we belong together.” He confessed.

“Lewis…” You couldn’t recognise your voice, it was so full of desire and need. But then you remembered what he did, and it felt like you sobered up and broke out of whatever trance he had you under. “You hurt me. For years.”

“I did it for your own good,” He stated. “For us, can’t you see that?”

“What you did was selfish.” You hissed, you placed your hands on his chest to push him away but the warmth of his skin made you pause. You could feel his heartbeats under your palms and just for a moment, you let your hands wander. Trailing up and down his toned abs, fingers tracing his tattoos. “It was mean,” You whispered bitterly, “Friends don’t treat each other like that.” Your actions didn’t match the way you reprimanded him.

“I don’t want to be your friend.” He spat.

“Neither do I.” You retorted. “Not after this bullshit of yours.”

“You don’t get to push me away like that.” He grabbed you by the hips and pressed you even harder against him.

You snapped, “You don’t get to make decisions about my life.”

You opened your mouth to berate him some more, but he shut you up by pressing his mouth to yours, kissing you rough and hard like he hated you.

You couldn’t control your hands anymore, you wanted to touch him and feel his warm, muscular body under your fingertips. You moaned into the kiss as his tongue slipped past your lips, stroking the top of your mouth while his hands slipped under your shirt, sliding up till he cupped your breasts, squeezing them in his large hands until you moaned even louder.

His touch made you wild, enough for you to bite on his full lower lip until he hissed. Your hands sliding up and down his muscular chest, feeling every hard muscle. Fuck. He felt good.

Flashes of that night filled your brain again, how you begged him to fuck you. And how he didn’t. A rush of anger took over you.

“Why do you have to be so fucking moody?” You whispered against his mouth, as you pulled away to catch your breath. “If this is all you wanted then why didn’t you fuck me when I asked you to?”

He smirked at the sudden dominance in your voice. “You mean when you begged me to?”

“Shut the fuck up.” You snarled.

Your words made him smirk as he looked down at you with lust in his pretty, warm brown eyes. How had you missed the way he looked at you all these years?

“Oh? You’re using your big girl words now.” He taunted, mocking you with that smug smirk of his. “Admit it, you’re angry and you still want me to fuck you.”

You were about to sass back at him but he grabbed your hand, moving it down his body, mimicking how you made him touch you that night. Lewis made you slide your hand past the waistband of his sweatpants, slowly, holding your stare as he had you wrap your hand around his erected cock.

You breathed heavily now, lips parted as you looked up at him while instinctively giving him a gentle squeeze. He frowned and groaned like he hadn’t been touched in forever, “Fuck, princess…”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t almost forgive all his wrongs right there and then. Lewis let out some more strained moans when you slowly slid your closed fist up and down his cock, feeling it throb and twitch in your hand. You watched his face carefully. How he clenched his jaw, and closed his eyes, how his frown deepened when you explored and teased him with your hand.

“Lewis…” You didn’t realise you were panting in need as you touched him.

He opened his eyes and stared into yours. His hand wrapped around your neck again, hard enough to make you gasp in pleasure and pain. “Tell me you want me,” He leaned in to whisper in your ear, kissing along your jaw occasionally. “Beg me to fuck you like you did that night.”

“I begged.” You chuckled this time, squeezing your hand around his cock again, enjoying the sounds he made. “You had the chance, and you didn’t fucking take it. Now, what if I don’t want you anymore?”

Lewis scoffed and placed his mouth back on yours. Kissing you like he was hungry for it, biting your already swollen mouth. “Is that so? Shall we check, then?”

He barely gave you time to think before he dipped his hands down your shorts, into your underwear until he felt the wetness gathering in between your legs. You shivered, moaning into the messy kiss as he moved his fingers around.

He smirked, pulling away to look at you, holding your stare while his fingers gently inspected your wetness, teasing you, bringing you on the verge of begging for more. “That doesn’t feel like you don’t want me, princess.”

You hated that mocking tone of his. It made you want to scratch at him like a feral cat. “Fuck you.” You hissed, unable to do much now that his finger threatened to slide deep inside you with how he kept toying with you.

“Alright,” He pulled his hand away, “Come here then.”

Lewis pulled you away from the wall and easily pushed you down on your bed, standing at the end of the bed to watch you for a moment. You watched him too. He looked like a fucking god. A muscular, heavily tattooed, handsome god.

You almost gulped when you noticed he was eyeing you like you were the sacrifice left on his altar. Like he was ready to satiate his hunger.

“You’re just gonna stare?” You couldn’t help the bratty words from leaving your mouth. Mainly because you knew that would get him moving. Having him just standing there watching you like that was painful because you wanted him so bad.

Lewis crawled on top of you, grabbed you by the neck and said, “If you want my cock, you’re gonna ask nicely. Understood?”

You glared at him, “I fucking hate how bossy you are.” You spat at him, already squirming under him.

“And I hate how bratty you are.” He said, straddling your waist as he tore your shirt off your body, throwing it behind him.

With no bra on, you instinctively went to hide your body from him. But Lewis grabbed your hands and pinned it above your head, securing your wrists in his one hand while the other cupped your breast.

“You don’t have to hide from me, princess.” He whispered, kissing along your exposed neck. “It’s just me.” He playfully nipped at your neck and you moaned and squirmed under him, your brain already malfunctioning at his brief touch.

“Don’t think that I’ve…” You gasped when he kissed around your ear, “forgiven you.” You whispered, breathless already, with shivers dancing down your spine.

“Really?” He whispered, kissing his way down your body until he took one of your breasts into his mouth, kneading the other with his hand. He bit, and sucked on your skin, making your back arch off the bed as you whined in pleasure. “Haven’t you?”

Your hips moved on their own, in a way they never had before. You were desperate for more, but were too proud to ask for it. Lewis lightly grazed your nipple with his teeth, and you let out a loud moan. One which made you want to hide your face in embarrassment after it escaped your mouth.

“No, and I never will…” You muttered under your breath, still whining in pleasure as he played with your body.

Lewis smirked as his hand reached down in between your legs. He lowered your shorts and underwear until you could easily slide your legs out of them. Your desperation was showing and he couldn’t stop smirking.

You wanted to slap it off his pretty face. But you didn’t. You watched how he spread your trembling legs apart and settled in between them. You gasped in surprise when he lowered his face down until his mouth was inches away from your clit.

This was new to you, and it made you a little nervous.

He could tell.

“Keep your legs right there for me.” He grabbed your thighs and parted your legs even more. “Now stay still, don’t move.” He whispered against your skin as he kissed your inner thighs. His warm breath caused goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. He looked up at you and smirked when he noticed it.

You held yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him in anticipation.

“No one else is gonna touch you like this, you hear me?” He leaned down, kissing your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease.

You shivered as you felt his tongue stroking your most sensitive parts. No one had ever even gotten close to touching you there. Lewis made damned sure of that after all. All so he could have all of you.

“You taste better than I imagined…” Lewis chuckled as he looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of this.”

He wrapped his big arms around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to him. He placed his mouth back on you again, and licked in between your legs, making you whine as he tasted you.

“Oh fuck, please…” You cried out, whimpering and begging.

“Beg for it.” He whispered against your wet skin, making you hiss in pleasure. “Beg me to make you come.”

You could feel your wetness trickling out of you, one drop at a time. Of course you had masturbated before but it never felt this good. No toy ever came close to how good his tongue felt slowly fucking in and out of you.

You tried to grind on his face to make yourself come. But Lewis pulled away smirking each time.

“Please,” You whined, giving in finally and unable to take his sweet torture anymore. “Lewis…” You pleaded, “Please make me come.” You could feel your legs shaking under his touch. “Please…”

He almost wanted to tease you for a bit longer, but even he was getting impatient and wanted to fuck you as soon as he could. So he wrapped his arms around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, fucking you with his soft, warm tongue until you were crying out loud, coming all over his mouth.

You were gasping for air, your body squirming under him as you came.

“You did so good, princess.” Lewis kissed his way up your body again until he pressed his mouth back on yours, kissing you just as hungrily as before. His braids tickled your face but nothing else had your attention in that moment. Not when his hands rubbed up and down your sides. Not when he lowered down just enough for you to feel his body weight, and feel his clothed erection right in between your legs.

You had never been this intimate with anyone before, and just feeling his warm skin rubbing against yours had your mind going crazy. You moaned into his mouth, breathless from his kiss as his hand lowered his sweatpants just enough to free his erected cock again.

You couldn’t help but whine as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your wet slit. You squirmed under him, seeking more of that feeling.

Lewis pulled away from the messy kiss and looked down at you, supporting himself above you on one elbow. You had never seen him from this angle before. You couldn’t help but reach out to touch his face, because as angry as you were deep down, he was still your best friend. Still your favourite person in the whole world.

And yet, he had been secretly hurting you thinking he was doing you good all these years. You couldn’t help the tears that fell down on either side of your face as you gently ran a finger across his perfect eyebrow. Damn him. Everything about him was perfect.

“I hate you.” Was all you could whisper, feeling too much all at once. Anger. Betrayal. Desire. Need. Satisfaction.

He smirked, pressing the tip of his cock against your hole and applied just enough pressure to make you moan without pushing inside you yet. “You can hate me while you’re being fucked by me, I don’t care.”

Neither did you. Not when he slowly pushed inside of, stretching you open as he went. Filling you up until you couldn’t think once he was snug inside you. Fuck. It was too much. Too good. You couldn’t look away from him, more tears spilling down your face once he was fully in.

Out of all the emotion you were feeling, the stab of betrayal hurt the most. After all, your best friend had been lying to you. Comforting you all these years while you felt insecure when he was the reason behind it.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You asked.

He knew what you were referring to. “I didn’t want to lose you.” He sounded just as breathless as you were. It was hard to hold back from wanting to fuck you like he dreamt of doing all these years. But he didn’t want it to hurt. So he was waiting, waiting for you to adjust to his size. “I couldn’t risk it.”

You moaned as he removed himself entirely, slowly, before pushing back into you. He was trembling with how much he had to hold back. You could tell. For a man of his magnitude, it was a given that being gentle wasn’t necessarily his forte. But he was still trying.

“You’re so selfish.” You stated, even when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding onto him as he fucked you slowly, as slow as possible. Letting you feel every inch of him moving in and out of you. It was so good it was agonising.

“No,” He argued, still moving gently. “You know what would be selfish? If I asked your father for your hand in marriage behind your back. He would’ve approved of it, he loves me like a son and everyone knows that.” He kissed the side of your face. “But I gave you a choice, I was waiting for you to choose me. Getting rid of the competition all along was just… fun.”

“Oh fuck you, Lewis.” You almost bit down on his shoulder when he tried to speed up a little.

“You’re too tight, baby.” He whispered, kissing your face again. “Open for me. Let me fuck you, come on…” You heard him swear under his breath again, the warmth of his body on top of yours felt so good you never wanted this to end.

Your heart raced even as you relaxed your body to let him in, to let him fuck you harder until fresh tears fell down your face.

Lewis kissed your open mouth as you moaned for him, crying out loud each time his cock brushed against all the right spots inside you. “You’re all fucking mine,” He whispered, wrapping his hand around your throat again, “Is this what you wanted? Hmm? To be fucked like this?” He taunted. “Is this what you were begging for? You feel pretty now, princess?”

His cocky words made you want to slap him but he felt too good for you to actually do it and risk him stopping. Instead, you carefully lifted your legs up and wrapped them around his waist, allowing him to thrust deeper into you.

Lewis leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours while fucking deeper into you. The simple gesture felt too intimate. You were in sync, bodies moving as one, sharing the same breath, hearts racing, you felt connected.

The more you moaned and whimpered, the more you felt him losing his ability to be gentle. At some point, he gave up completely and just fucked you relentlessly.

You felt a familiar pressure forming in between your hips, your body begging for release. He could feel it too given how you clenched around him.

“Already about to come for me, princess?” He chuckled, “That was quick.” You didn’t miss the arrogant tone in his voice.

“Lewis… please.” You moaned, begging.

“No.”

His one word felt like it made your world come crumbling down. You cried out when he pulled out, right when you were mere seconds away from coming.

Even he was surprised at how he was able to hold back from just fucking into you until you were both completely spent from coming too much.

Lewis leaned in to kiss your swollen mouth. “You tortured me for years, princess.” He whispered against your mouth. “You don’t get to come that easily.” He pulled away and said, “Turn around for me.”

You moved too slowly for his liking so he had to intervene. He pulled you onto your knees by your hips, shoving your face down into your soft pillow as he shoved his cock inside you again.

His hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm against your lower abdomen while he fucked into you. He liked how he could feel himself deep inside you with each thrust. And he liked how you clenched around his cock.

“You feel me in here, princess?” He whispered, “You’re mine now, no one else is gonna touch you. Ever.”

You moaned as he sped up when you least expected it. There was nothing to do but take it, take him deep inside you each time he filled you up.

His hand travelled all the way to your throat and he choked you gently. It felt dirtier now that you couldn’t see him. He squeezed enough to make you lose your mind.

“Fuck! Please, Lewis….” You cried, your body moving forward and back with each thrust of his. You clenched the blanket under you in your fists tightly, biting down onto the pillow as he quickened his pace.

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” He asked, his voice deeper now. “Are you going to be mine forever?”

“Yes…” Your voice sounded muffled. “Yes, please…”

“Promise?”

“Oh damn you! Yes!”

He chuckled, leaning down to press his chest to your back as he fucked into your harder than earlier. “Come for me, princess. Come all over my cock.”

You came undone, hard and fast, moaning as you did. You had never imagined pleasure could be so blinding. Your brain was a foggy mess. You felt like you were floating.

Lewis came right after you, groaning as he did.

Both of you collapsed onto your bed, both catching your breaths and trying to calm your racing hearts. You could feel Lewis’s body heat right on top of you.

Everything was blurry for a while after that. You briefly remember Lewis cleaning you up and placing the covers over you.

When you came to again, you were laying almost entirely on top of his chest. Your ear right over his heart, which beat steadily now. His warm hand rubbed up and down your back. The room was dark now, all the lights were off.

You wouldn’t see him but you still moved to look up at him. Or at least you tried to but the soreness in between your legs made you hiss in discomfort.

“Sorry about that.” Lewis said quietly. You could hear the smug smile he was probably hiding.

“I still hate you, Lewis. You piece of shit.” You muttered under your breath, placing your head back on his comfy chest. Your fingers traced over his skin, you knew exactly where all his tattoos were so you traced them even in the dark.

“Sure.” He chuckled this time. “Didn’t sound like you hated me earlier. You screamed so loud I was worried we might have woken up the whole house.”

Your face burned. You still couldn’t believe you actually did it. You slept with your best friend. It felt unreal. You tried to find that anger again, but it wasn’t there anymore.

You still had one question. “Did you truly ever consider doing it? What you said earlier?” Your heart skipped a beat or two while you waited for an answer.

Lewis was quiet for a moment then asked, “What exactly? I said a lot of things.”

“Ask dad for my hand in marriage. Behind my back.”

His silence said it all.

“Asshole.” You muttered under your breath again.

He laughed, tightening his arms around you protectively. “You love me, princess. You would’ve pretended to hate the thought of it. You would’ve thrown a bratty fit. But in the end, you would’ve said yes.” Then he paused and added, “You will say yes when time comes.”

You hide your face into his chest even in the dark. Your silence said it all too.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #mob!lewis #f1 #f1 fanfic #lewis hamilton au #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton imagine

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 2 years

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By: Helen Lewis

Published: Aug 18, 2022

A quick question. If someone is yelling “repent” at you in the street, are they more likely to be (a) a religious preacher or (b) a left-wing activist?

The answer depends on where you are. Last October, a crowd gathered outside Netflix’s offices in Los Angeles to protest the release of Dave Chappelle’s comedy special The Closer, which contained a long riff criticizing transgender activists. Inevitably, there was a counterprotest: a lonely Chappelle fan holding a sign that read WE LIKE DAVE. This went over badly. Someone took the sign from him and ripped it up. Someone else shouted in his face, and their word choice was notable. The man who liked Dave was urged to “repent.”

A similar sentiment surfaced last month, when students protested the decision of University College London to stop paying Stonewall, an LGBTQ charity, to audit the institution’s compliance with laws on diversity. That decision might sound dry and technical, but to the students, it showed the institution’s lack of commitment to LGBTQ rights. They held a sign that read rejoin stonewall or go to hell.

This fire-and-brimstone language might initially seem odd, because society is becoming less religious—in the U.S., church membership dropped below 50 percent for the first time in 2020, down from 70 percent in 1999. In Britain, where I live, the decline of organized religion is “one of the most important trends in postwar history,” according to the British Social Attitudes survey. We might expect that religious concepts—repentance, hellfire, heresy, apostasy—would have become less salient as a result. But that’s not the case. For some activists, politics has usurped the role that religion used to play as a source of meaning and purpose in our lives, and a way to find a community.

In the U.S., the nonreligious are younger and more liberal than the population as a whole. Perhaps, then, it isn’t a coincidence that they are also the group most likely to be involved in high-profile social-justice blowups, particularly the type found on college campuses. They’ve substituted one religion for another. In The Coddling of the American Mind, Jonathan Haidt and Greg Lukianoff suggest that we look at campus protests as outbreaks of “collective effervescence,” a term coined by the sociologist Emile Durkheim to describe emotions that can be accessed only in a crowd. Singing, swaying, and chanting build up a kind of electricity, which ripples through the group. And that’s how a person can end up screaming “repent” at a stranger for the crime of holding a funny sign.

If you’re isolated, reading and sharing political memes and commentary is one way to find like-minded people; meanwhile, social media and dating apps encourage us to label ourselves so that we can be instantly categorized by algorithms and advertisers. Many common social-justice phrases have echoes of a catechism: announcing your pronouns or performing a land acknowledgment shows allegiance to a common belief, reassuring a group that everyone present shares the same values. But treating politics like a religion also makes it more emotionally volatile, more tribal (because differences of opinion become matters of good and evil) and more prone to outbreaks of moralizing and piety. “I was thinking about that Marx quote that religion is the opium of the people,” Elizabeth Oldfield, the former director of the Christian think tank Theos, told me. “I think what we've got now is [that] politics is the amphetamines of the people.”

Oldfield was one of the many commentators, activists, and religious leaders—and, sometimes, people who are all three—whom I recently interviewed for a new BBC documentary, The Church of Social Justice. Some of what I discovered surprised me. I asked Alex Clare-Young, a nonbinary minister in the United Reformed Church, whether their faith or their gender was more surprising to Generation Z acquaintances. “I think probably being religious,” Clare-Young responded. “I know a lot of LGBTQ+ young people who say it’s harder to come out as Christian in an LGBT space than LGBT in a Christian space.”

Politics has now crept into every aspect of our lives. In countries where racial and religious intermarriage have become commonplace, dating across political lines is the new taboo. The young British writer Tomiwa Owolade told me he often saw dating profiles that insisted on “no conservatives.” Victoria Turner, the editor of an anthology titled Young, Woke and Christian, told me that she could happily date someone from another faith, or no faith at all. But a conservative? “Absolutely not. No.” Why not? “Whether your God looks exactly the same as my God, I don’t know,” she told me. “But I do know what the answers are to stop people from suffering and to make the world a more equitable place.”

As politics has usurped religion, it has borrowed its underlying concepts, sometimes putting them into new words. John McWhorter, a linguist and Atlantic contributing writer, recently published a best-selling book reflecting on what he sees as the excesses of America’s racial-justice movement. Its working title was “The Elect,” after the Calvinist idea of a group chosen by God for salvation. (In the end, it was published under the more provocative name Woke Racism.) “The hyper-woke—who were firing people right and left, and shaming people right and left—think that they’re seeing further than most people, that they understand the grand nature of things better than the ordinary person can,” McWhorter told me. “To them, they’re elect.”

He sees other parallels, suggesting that notions such as white privilege and male privilege are versions of original sin—a stain that humans are born with, no matter their individual circumstances. Problematic, he argues, is the new way to say heretic. In his book, McWhorter also identifies a “priestly class” of influential writers and politicians who he believes are dictating the rules of what can and cannot be said.

This phenomenon is not confined to the left, though. At Donald Trump’s rallies, booing members of the press, who were kept in an exposed pen, became part of the ritual. The storming of the Capitol involved hardened militia members and amateur gun nuts, but also dozens of otherwise law-abiding citizens swept up in collective effervescence. There are other religious parallels: QAnon’s lurid myths about blood-drinking elites echo medieval anti-Semitic tropes, and the QAnon rally where adherents awaited the resurrection of John F. Kennedy Jr. had a distinctly millenarian feel. As my colleague Adrienne LaFrance has reported, followers of this conspiracy-theory movement treat the anonymous Q’s online postings as something akin to divine revelations. “I feel God led me to Q,” one QAnon follower told LaFrance.

Because collective effervescence is so powerful, established religions have developed strategies for dealing with enthusiasm that shades into zealotry. “In religious life, or Jewish life, the person you sit next to in synagogue may drive you completely potty, they may be so annoying and have different views, and you must still go to their family’s funeral,” Rabbi Laura Janner-Klausner, of the Bromley Reform synagogue in south London, told me. “You must still take them something when they have just given birth; you must still go to their mourning prayers.”

In real life, churches, mosques, synagogues, and temples force together, in their congregations, a random assortment of people who just happen to live close to them. But today’s social activism is often mediated through the internet, where dissenting voices can easily be excluded. We have taken religion, with its innate possibility for sectarian conflict, and fed it through a polarization machine. No wonder that today’s politics can feel like a wasteland of anguished ranting—and like we are in hell already.

#The Atlantic #Helen Lewis #John McWhorter #The Elect #social justice #critical social justice #wokeness as religion #cult of woke #woke #woke activism #wokeism #woke priests #collective effervescence #mob mentality #mob violence #religion is a mental illness

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