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Home is Where the Heart Is

Pairing ❅ Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Tags ❅ post-Dance, fluff and smut, p. in v. sex, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, mild breeding kink, consensual somnophilia

Wordcount ❅ 3,280

After almost two years of absence, your husband Cregan finally returns home from war. The two of you spend a long, heated night rediscovering each other's body.

Cregan Masterlist

This is a gift for my dearest friend @thenameswinter99 ♡

A frantic atmosphere had taken over Winterfell as your husband’s banners had been spotted on the horizon, estimating their arrival within the hour. After almost two years of a bloody war ending with a child on the throne, the Northerners were finally coming home to their mothers, wives, and children. 

As the sound of hooves and cries of merry welcomes came from the Winter Town, you felt your breath leave your chest, and soon the first horses were crossing the gates of the stronghold.

You held onto your composure as best as you were able, your nails digging into the back of your hand as tears rose to your eyes—finally, your lord husband entered the courtyard, his noble bearing recognizable among his men.

Sitting atop a large mare, he cut the perfect image of the victorious warrior, a heavy cloak of furs wrapped around his shoulders and the wide, ancestral swords of his family strapped to his back.

His dark curls were pulled back into a bun at the back of his head, a thick beard covering the lower half of his face—you could not hold your tears at the sight of him, your heart bursting from sheer relief and joy.

You cried out as your husband dismounted from his horse and ran to his side, mindless of the company. The solemn air on his face dropped in emotion and he caught you easily, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to him roughly.

He crushed his mouth to yours with a deep hum—his lips were cold, but his tongue was heated as he pushed into your mouth. The kiss was rougher than you remembered, his hand curling painfully at your waist.

However the relief that seeped through your bones made you so pliant you were grateful for his hold on you, lest you would have collapsed at his feet.

“How I missed you, wife,” he groaned against your lips as you pulled away for a breath that turned into a grateful laugh. “I prayed every night that the war would be short, so that I might return to you.”

He held you as you sobbed in his neck, breathing in the smell of him as he pressed grateful kisses into your hair. “Oh, how I prayed you would return to me safely,” you cried.

Around the two of you, servants were welcoming their lord home, and he could only thank them briefly before he turned his attention back to you.

“Let us get you out of the cold,” you pulled him along, and he went gratefully. 

However as you crossed the threshold into the castle, Cregan pushed you against the wall, crushing his mouth against yours again, and you kissed him back passionately. You unbuckled his cloak, letting it fall to the floor, eager to feel his touch after so long an absence, and it only spurred him on.

He removed his last buckles, propping his sword against the wall and almost lifted you off the floor in his eagerness to drag you along. He pushed you into the nearest hall, which was being prepared—a fire was being lit, along with candles, and fresh wine was being poured into the jugs.

“Out! All of you,” he barked to the servants. “You’ll carry on later.”

The maids scurried out, giggling behind the piles of linen they were carrying, and you laughed when he kicked the door closed, backing you against the large table at the center of the room. You unlaced the front of your grown, sighing as his lips descended from your neck to your chest, sucking the soft peak of your breast into his mouth.

“I need you now, I can hardly wait,” he groaned against your skin, his hands seeking the bare skin of your thighs. 

You propped yourself up on the tabletop and he stepped between your parted legs, his hips bucking into your touch as you pulled at his belt. You tugged at the buckles and laces until you could press your hand into the cloth of his undergarments—he hissed at the cold feeling of your hand, but his desire was so that he still throbbed against your palm.

The mounting need at the base of his cock drove him forward and soon he was pressing in the cradle of your hips, his swollen head parting your soft folds. “How I missed you,” you sighed as your core clenched, a deep ache that made your head spin.

He pushed into you in one hurried thrust and it was your turn to hiss, the burning stretch almost overwhelming. The broken sound he made was quick to make the pain fade, and you rocked your hips into the delicious heat as he thrusted into you, crazed and imprecise. 

You were unbearably tight from his absence and he found himself in a similar predicament—it was as though he had become unpracticed, the eagerness and clumsiness of the first embraces returning, and his whole body was alight with an uncontrollable fire.

Within a few thrusts he found himself breathless with shame, as his stones tightened and he was powerless to stop it, the tension at the base of his cock snapping suddenly. 

He groaned, deep and rough, and you felt yourself flush all over when you realized what was taking place. 

“Fuck, fuck—” he cursed into the soft curve of your shoulder, quivering in your hold.

You moaned breathlessly into his hair as he spilled his seed inside of you, holding you tight as he pulsed, hot and deep within your core. You kissed him through the last quivering shudders, finding yourself almost dizzy with excitement—it was always a sight to see him lose control, and this display of ungovernable passion had excited you.

“I am sorry,” he sighed as he finally stilled, hiding his disappointment in your shoulder. “It has been too long.”

“Did you not… share your bed with anyone else?” you inquired, swallowing your nerves but holding onto your compassion, hoping you would find it in yourself to be gracious and to forgive—war was long and arduous, lonely, and you would not blame a man for seeking a quick relief. 

“Never,” he vowed, pulling away far enough for his gaze to bear into yours, fierce and honest. “I would never betray you in this way.”

You smiled, caught between relief and your unsatisfied arousal, and he pressed a firm kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry, this is not the welcome you had expected.”

“I am happy you are home, safe and unhurt,” you said sincerely, your fingers trailing in his beard. It was longer now than it had previously been, and you couldn’t say you didn’t enjoy this new length. “Are you, though, unhurt?”

“Just a few aches and healing wounds,” he said against your lips.

“Let me take care of you,” you offered, pushing him back gently and sliding off the table top, feeling his seed trail down your inner thighs as you did so.

A hot bath had been run in your chambers, and Cregan almost groaned in relief as he saw it, the vision of steaming water a truly welcomed one. As lady of Winterfell, you had made sure that everything was ready for the return of your men. A feast was awaiting your warriors, along with hot baths in every room—the whole castle had rationed resources for weeks to allow for this, but it wasn’t much of a sacrifice. 

A few weeks of bland soup and fewer fires were nothing compared to the sacrifices the men had made for the realm, securing its peace and stability.

The chambers you shared with your husband were no exception, a deep fire was ablaze and a copper tub was full with steaming water. The Maester had prepared a tea for pain, along with several oils and ointments for wounds in various stages of healing.

Even though the custom was different in most of the realm, with ladies having their separate rooms from their lord husbands, Cregan had welcomed you into his own chamber and insisted that it wasn’t natural for a man to be apart from his wife. 

You had appreciated his warmth, and how comfortable he had made you feel during your first night as a wedded couple. He had been assured and slightly commanding, with an underlying tenderness you would have never expected from such a hardened man. 

You had only been apart for a few nights at a time when he had left for war. It was far different than him leaving to visit a vassal house, and time had dragged. You had thrown yourself in matters of your estate, in making sure your people were provided for during the long and harsh winter.

His thick leather doublet was soon discarded, the belt still undone from your hurried embrace, and you were happy to leave him to kick it aside, throwing his boots on top. You stepped behind him as his linen undershirt was revealed, stained and wrinkled, and pulled it up. It revealed a long scar that ran along his shoulder down his upper back, and you stifled a sob. 

You rested your forehead against his shoulder blade as he pulled the garment up and over his head. Your arms wrapped around his thick waist and he welcomed your touch, leaning back into your tender embrace, his hands coming to cover yours.

“How I missed you,” you lamented, rubbing your face into his cool skin, inhaling the scent of him. Your core was still running hot, your desire unsatisfied, and the smell of his sweat and musk was only incensing you more.

“I thought of you, every spare moment that I had,” he confessed, his calloused thumb tracing tender circles on the back of your hand. “Every night when I laid down to rest, I prayed that I would see you again.”

“I never washed the shirts you wore before you left. I curled up on our bed every night, clinging to them,” you admitted as he turned to you, tracing the swell of your bottom lip with his calloused thumb.

“You made me train and sweat in them on purpose,” he replied, amused, but his grin was quickly swallowed by a deep kiss, in which he leaned in eagerly. You pushed yourself up, your hands mapping his shoulders and chest, your fingertips digging into his skin—your desire was still running high, and it made his hunger simmer anew in the pit of his stomach.

“Allow me to wash for a minute, then I shall give you what you deserve,” he said, his voice a warm rumble. 

You licked your lips, your gaze roaming appreciatively along the curves of his muscles, admiring the firmness of his backside as he turned again, discarding his trousers and undergarments before stepping into the bath.

He groaned as he lowered himself into the hot water, reaching to cup some into his hands and bring it to his face. You were quick to grab some soap and dip it under the surface before lathering it between your palms—Cregan groaned as you washed his hair, rubbing his scalp firmly.

You worked in comfortable silence for a minute, unwilling to bring up matters of the estate or the settling peace—you had exchanged letters on these topics, and now you wished to forget you were the Lord and Lady of Winterfell. In this room, you were merely husband and wife.

Cregan pressed heated kisses into your neck as you leaned over the edge of the tub, brought a cloth to his hairy chest and abdomen, then his strong thighs, and he felt himself stiffen again under your gaze.

He had often thought of the way you would welcome him upon his return, and while you had never been shy with your desires, you were looking at him with a hunger he had never seen from you before.

“Let me see you,” he commanded gently, and you were quick to undress, unlacing your gown and removing the layers of cotton and wool that kept you warm. You shivered under the slight chill of the room and the intensity of his gaze—your breasts rose in two firm peaks and your thighs pressed together, looking to ease the ache in your core.

“I need you,” you whined as he reached for you, bringing you into the bath easily. He sucked a bruising kiss to your breast as you came to straddle his thick waist, pressing you against him with one hand cupping your behind.

He encouraged you to rock against him, seeking your pleasure against his stomach while his spent cock slowly regained vigor, hardening against your backside. You pressed your core to his stiffening length, sighing in relief as the swollen head dipped between your folds, catching on the sensitive dip leading to your entrance.

Cregan sucked on your breast greedily, and the hard pull was making you mewl. The tub was narrow, and you could hardly move as you wished to, and soon you were whining in frustration. Ever eager and unwilling to slow down your endeavors, he rose in one smooth push, carrying you out of the bath easily. 

He wrapped a linen around your shoulders, then pushed you to lay down on the pelts in front of the fire. He wasted no time climbing down your body, pressing face between your thighs, his mouth open against your wetness.

“Fuck, how I missed that cunt,” he groaned, making you flush, your toes curling into the soft furs. Never before had you heard your husband speak in such a way. You supposed the company of men had roughened him and loosened his tongue.

“Husband,” you cried out as he licked a broad stripe up your folds. 

The burn of his beard on your inner thighs was delicious, and you keened as he sucked on your pearl, his tongue curling against you in a manner that made your head spin. It wasn’t long before your back arched, your pleasure cresting to impossible heights. He did not relent, wanting to swallow your pleasure, to feel you pulse against his tongue, and he groaned in time with the quivering of your hips.

He didn’t wait for the aftershocks to subside, only climbed up your body and pressed his cock into you with one deep thrust. The sudden stretch made you keen, and the quick rhythm he started kept you afloat, not allowing you the descent after your peak, the aftershocks of your climax turning into great waves of sharp pleasure. 

“How sweet that cunt is,” Cregan groaned, looking down at you, gauging your reaction. You arched your back, a pleased smile gracing your face, and your husband pressed his own grin to your mouth.

“Every night that I was alone, I regretted that I was not carrying a part of you inside me,” you said, and it seemed to spur him on. You had mourned the arrival of your blood a few weeks after he had left, sobbing in the privacy of your rooms, devastated that you would spend this war alone. “Please do not leave me empty ever again.”

“I won’t,” he vowed, his hips grinding into yours, seeking the angle that would make your back grow taut and your stomach quiver.

“I want a babe, husband, I beg you,” you whined, clenching around his cock.

Cregan moaned, louder than you had ever heard him—he had always been more reserved, if only a bit rough and impatient sometimes.

“I’ve already spilled in you once, perhaps it is already done,” he breathed into your mouth. 

“Once is not enough,” you replied, your legs wrapping around his waist and keeping him close, forcing him to bring your body with him when he rocked back, picking up speed. 

“I shall make sure it takes this time,” he promised, his hips snapping into yours sharply. “I promise that you shall be round with my pup before this winter ends.” 

You didn’t think it possible, but somehow you were sure a second peak would soon take you. Your breasts were bouncing with each thrust and your pleasure was almost painful in its intensity.

Sweat running down his temples, Cregan kept his dark gaze on you, a winter storm pulling you into its fierceness. Your heels dug into his backside as you threw your head back, your peak ripping through you and Cregan swallowed your moans from your mouth.

He spilled once more a second later, your nails leaving crescent moons on the skin of his back as you clung to him, praying that his seed would take root.

Cregan was awoken by the peace and quiet of the room, the fire had turned to warm coals and crackling embers in the dark. He had become so used to the urgency of battle and the ever-present tension of the war camps that this first night back in his chambers, in his home, felt like a pocket of borrowed time.

He slipped out from under the linens and furs, calming his frayed nerves with a long drink of wine, but what soothed the crawling under his skin was the sight of you burrowed under the pelts.

He realized there was nothing that meant home quite like the vision of his lady wife in the warmth and comfort of his bed, the sigil of his house embroidered on the pillow peeking from under your splayed hair.

He stood at the foot of the bed for a long while, gazing at you, a breathless feeling swelling in his chest—pure adoration, he knew, and a devoted love that had only grown in the long months you had been apart. His loins stirred again as you shifted slightly, sighing in your sleep. He slid a hand between his legs and gave himself a slow pull, his hardening length twitching in his loose grasp.

He climbed back onto the bed, crawling over you who were lying on your side, and pulled the covers aside, pressing his hips against your backside. “Cregan?” you whispered, your closed eyelids fluttering.

“I need you again, my love,” he murmured, his large palm curling around your thigh and pressing it upwards, exposing your folds. His cock was hard as it pressed against you, sliding along the dip of wetness that remained from your earlier embraces.

“Yes,” you murmured, and your lord husband was quick to push into you. The stretch was comfortable as you were still loose and pliant from sleep, and the angle burned a delicious heat in your core.

“It won’t be long,” Cregan grunted, on his knees behind you, his hips snapping forward in short, desperate thrusts. As he lost himself to the pleasure of your cunt once more, his groans and grunts falling from his lips with each push into your tight warmth, you found yourself floating above your own body. 

Eyes still closed and sleep still clouding your mind, you remained motionless and quiet, save for a few whimpers and sighs. Cregan hadn’t lied and it was over quite soon, with him gripping your hip tightly and grunting aloud, his cock pulsing deep inside of you.

Your own peak was just as fast and sharp, your core clenching around his throbbing length in a way that rendered you so light-headed you could only be grateful to be lying down, a breath away from slumber.

You whined as he pulled out of you, but your dismay was short-lived as he came to lie down at your back, cradling you against his hard, hairy chest. “Sleep now, my love. I shall have you again in the morn,” he promised, and the warm rumble of his voice eased you back into the land of dreams.

Dividers by @arcielee

Thank you to my lovely @/arcielee for beta reading it ♡

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Comment to be added to the taglist.

Cregan taglist: @kateris-world @elleclairez @watercolorskyy @praline357 @whodis-26

@elle-28 @mari0302 @hb8301 @flawroses @random-shit-i-like-2

@heavenly1927 @thegeminithrone @vixemi @rockerchick05 @maniccrystalhippie

@melsunshine @siimiasoi @mxtokko @arcielee @apollonshootafar

@thenameswinter99

Rosie Rosenthal going to war and becoming a pilot to personally bomb the fuck out of Hitler because it was the right thing to do as a human being, and then going home, getting back to work, and then getting offered the chance to be part of the Nuremberg prosecution team.

And he meets his wife--a fellow prosecutor--on the ship over to the trial. And they're married basically the moment they land in Europe.

And then he interrogates Herman Göring personally.

Do you remember those Peanuts strips where Snoopy fights against the Red Baron? The WWI fighting ace? That was fucking Göring. Literally. He was the leader of that squadron.

That's who Rosie Rosenthal interrogated for Nuremberg. His literal mirror image.

He flew 52 fucking missions. He broke his arm twice. He was training to pilot in the Pacific because that war wasn't over even as the ETO came to a close. And his encore to his war service was to fucking take out Herman fucking Göring.

I think the reason WW2 stories stay so close to our hearts if we're Allies is because even if the most unassuming of people became heroes but also, even the unquestionable heroes went far beyond anything that feels real or true for any of us.

But they did.

And in doing so, they gave us something to strive towards. Do I want to go to war, become an icon amongst terrified men, then go back and kick a war criminal all the way in the ass? God no. Not ever. Do I want to, when I am gone, leave a legacy where people saw me go, "I did this because it was fucking right" and then make decisions in their own lives with an eye towards doing what is right? Yes.

“Not all men-“

You’re right, Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal would never do this

i want rosie to stay safe in that sunny spot on a plush chair with soft jazz playing and his curls glinting in the sunshine and a blanket over his robe forever and ever and ever and ever and ev

I saw someone complaining that they had to get a new copy of War & Peace because their translation insisted on calling Prince Andrei "Andrew" and I'm sorry but that is so fucking funny....who on earth thought that was a good idea

Oh My Little Girl, come here🤤

Freak Like That // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (Minors DNI), Angst, Kind of Cheating? (depends on how you look at it), Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Alcohol, Not Edited/Proofread

Word Count: 8.9k+

Summary: Seeing him again shouldn't be as hard as it is, but the universe has funny ways of making sure you end up back in his arms.

Notes: I'm aware I said this was coming like 3 weeks ago but your girl has her first corporate job that has been much more demanding week by week so I've been busy!! I toyed with turning this into more of a fic so if you're interested in a pt.2 of them LMK. Sweet Escape Epilogue is still on its way but has turned into a bit of a stand alone fic within a chapter, don't hate me, or maybe you'll love me for it. I didn't proofread this and wrote part of it while I was a tad bit drunk, oopsie! Love you all!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

It had taken everything in you to move on from Lewis. You had done everything in your power to forget him, how he felt, how good he was to you, but the thought of him always lingered. You would have been a fool to ever think that anything could ever truly happen between the two of you, you were mature enough to know it was always just sex, it would always be just sex. That didn’t mean you never fantasized about how it would feel to be loved by him. It was never a relationship between the two of you, there was never any commitment from him. He had been more of a fuck buddy, a sugar daddy in many senses. He was older than you, detached, and loved to shower you with gifts. You only ever had his attention in private, and when you did he made you see stars. Lewis had always managed to unlock something within you that you didn’t know existed, bringing alive senses you’d never felt. He taught you things about your body and needs that you had been so naive to. No one had ever been able to compare to him. Parting from him had been one of the most difficult tasks you had ever been faced with, but you knew the agreement between the two of you wasn’t sustainable, you were only ever destined for heartbreak if you continued with him. You had done so well for the last year, ignoring his texts, doing your best to avoid his heavy presence online. Him being in the same room as you however, was something that you were not prepared for. He looked ethereal, his beige suit jacket showing off just a peak of his chest, enough to force the images back into your head, his tattoos glistening above you as he wears you out. He has one braid hanging perfectly in front of his face, all you can think of is how his braids felt tickling your neck when he would pant dirty words into your sticky skin.

“Y/N? You okay darling?” The voice that came from beside you startled you. When you looked to your side, your boyfriend was looking at you with concern written all over his face.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, sorry about that, just zoned out for a second.” You try to fake laugh it off, not wanting him to pry.

He continues to look suspicious but doesn’t press any further, instead seamlessly transitioning into a conversation with one of the businessmen standing with him. You find your attention returning back to where Lewis had stood, his attention now fully on you. His smirk is knowing as he drags his eyes shamelessly up and down your body. You have to use every ounce of power in yourself to pull your eyes away from him as one of your boyfriends business partners directs a question to you. You put your fake smile on, engaging in boring conversation as you do your best to ignore the strong presence that is Lewis. You had been worried that one day you would run into him, your boyfriend working in the fashion industry made it almost inevitable.

You managed to stay relatively strong throughout the night, the champagne helping immensely. Lewis had disappeared into the crowd and you had done your absolute best not to look for him. You spent your evening tailing behind your boyfriend, being introduced to random men that you assumed worked in the same circles as him. Your boyfriend kept his hand on your lower back throughout most of the night, the only acknowledgement that you were even really there. He was a fine man, he had taken his time winning you over, taken you on romantic dates, but the spark still wasn’t there, and the arguments were becoming more and more frequent. You knew he cared about you, treated you well, but he was simply the safest option, and he was getting sick of your lack of interest in his work. You were growing increasingly tired of being his arm candy, using you to show off to his business partners. The intimacy lacked passion, nothing matched the raw passion you had with Lewis once upon a time. It wasn’t fair to compare him to Lewis, he was actually there to be your partner, not just a fun time, but it was almost impossible. 

“There’s only a few more people I need to talk to and then I promise we can go.” Your boyfriend whispered into your ear. You couldn’t wait to get out of your heels and be in a quiet room, away from the people faking sincerity in hopes of investments and business opportunities.

You grab another glass of champagne as your boyfriend orders an Old Fashion before once again pulling you along through the crowd of people, evidently in search of someone.

“Ah, there he is.” You hear him exclaim, not yet able to see who he’s approaching.

When you come out from behind him you want to scream, he has approached Lewis, completely unaware of the situation he has just put you in.

“It’s so fantastic to meet you, I’m Brian, we work with a lot of the same people around here. It’s an honor, I’m a big fan.” Your boyfriend extends his hand to Lewis eagerly.

You can’t help but be confused, your boyfriend has never once mentioned racing, you can only assume he’s a fan of his work in fashion, or he’s lying.

“Nice to meet you too,” Lewis responds politely with a small chuckle, returning the handshake before turning his attention to you, “and always wonderful to see you Y/N.”

You want to melt into the earth below you. You can see the devious look in his eyes, blatantly announcing your familiarity, you thank god your boyfriend doesn’t know the depth of familiarity you have with the man in front of you, not yet at least.

“You two know each other?” Your boyfriend asks, confusion covering his face. 

“Oh yeah, we know each other well. Y/N hasn’t told you?” Lewis continues, a wide smile across his beautiful lips. To anyone else it would look kind and genuine, but you know he’s playing at something else, daring you, challenging your boyfriend in the simplest of ways.

“No she’s never-“ Your boyfriend starts before you cut him off.

“I wouldn’t say we know each other well, we’ve just met at things like this before.” You rush out, it’s not entirely a lie, that is exactly how you first met him. Your boyfriend doesn’t need to know the rest.

Lewis sends you a smirk, cocky and mischievous.

“All I can say man is you landed a very talented woman.” Lewis says to your boyfriend, the words falling off his lips in such a tone that your stomach flips.

“She is pretty incredible.” Your boyfriend smiles at you, wrapping his arm around your waist, completely oblivious to the meaning behind Lewis’ words. You can see out of the corner of your eye how Lewis glances down at the action, his jaw tightening momentarily.

Your boyfriend is on a mission, immediately transitioning into talking business with Lewis. You do your best not to undress him with your eyes, opting to look down at his feet throughout most of the conversation. You can feel Lewis glance at you every once in a while, trying so hard to ignore the way his gaze makes you feel. As you hear someone calling your boyfriends name you think you are finally free from the situation.

“So sorry, it sounds like I’m needed elsewhere, it was truly great meeting you, it was an honor.” Your boyfriend says to Lewis, shaking his hand once again before turning to you. You're ready to follow after him, happy to be dragged into yet another boring conversation, “Why don’t you stay here and catch up for a moment, I’ll find you later.”

He doesn’t give you even a moment to object as he presses a kiss to your temple and quickly makes his exit. You both watch as your boyfriend walks away, you in fear of the situation he’s left you in, Lewis in excitement of the exact same thing.

“Soooo,” Lewis draws out, finally looking directly at you, “how have you been?”

“Seriously?” You bite at him, unamused by his behavior.

He just shrugs, taking a sip of his drink, the glass barely hiding his amused smirk.

“What the hell was that? There’s no reason he needs to know anything.” You say, your tone low and harsh.

He just laughs, “There’s no way youre fucking that dude. I doubt that square can make you cum. Not the way I did.”

“Lewis,” You hiss at him, looking around hoping no one heard him, “he’s good to me, leave him alone.”

“So I’m right, he can’t make you cum can he.” His words come out as a statement not a question, so confident in himself, in his knowledge of your needs.

“Untrue, he’s perfectly fine, and he offers so much more than you ever did.” You throw back at him, not happy at his assessment of your relationship, he has no right to assume anything. Even if he’s partially correct.

“He might not break your heart baby, but I doubt he can break your back the way I did.” He’s gotten closer to you, his voice lower, seductive.

You can feel your breath hitch, the familiar smell of him engulfing your senses, his words going to your core unwillingly. He notices it too, the tip of his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip. All you can think about is how that same tongue has felt in your mouth, all over your body, inside of you, so many times. He chuckles as he watches you get lost in thought, knowing exactly where your mind has wandered.

“He’s gonna be busy for a while, we could relive some old times.” Lewis says quietly, his head gesturing back toward the hall where the bathrooms are.

“Lewis, no.” You say against your will, desperately wanting to follow him mindlessly down the hall and let him have his way with you, but you can’t let yourself do it to your boyfriend.

“Offer stands, always, ya know when you finally get sick of him.” Lewis says casually.

Within moments your boyfriend has appeared at your side once again. You worry that he’s heard something but he seems unbothered, unaware of what you were just offered.

“Vance and I are going to go grab drinks down the street, talk about the contract somewhere a little quieter.” He says to you, ignoring Lewis entirely.

You sigh, realizing just how much longer your night had just gotten, “I really just want to head back to the hotel.”

“Really? You know these meetings always go better when you’re around. You take the focus off of me.” He half complains half laughs.

“We’ve been here forever babe, I really just want to get out of my dress.” You say softly, trying to get out of the boring boys club meeting.

“You’ll be fine, besides how would you even get back to the hotel? I need to have the car take Vance and I and you’re never going to find a cab with all of this going on.” He gestures back towards that large party, his voice starting to sound annoyed.

“I’ll figure something out, I really just want to go back to the hotel, the day has been long enough as is.” You sigh, hoping he lets it go.

“C'mon babe, we’re supposed to be a team.” He continues to try to convince you. 

Never have you been part of his business ventures, only the arm candy that he  brings to meetings when he is trying to show off to someone.

“And we are, I’m just not up to staying out so late tonight.” You say, growing agitated, embarrassed that this conversation is happening in front of Lewis.

“We won’t be out late.” Your boyfriend continues to argue, “And how are you even going to get to the hotel?”

“I’ve got a car coming in just a little bit, I’ll get her back.” Lewis pipes up before you can respond, not looking at you but directing his attention to your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend lets out a frustrated huff before conceding.

“That would be great, I appreciate it man.” Your boyfriend agrees without asking you, shaking Lewis’ hand.

“Anytime, don’t worry, she’ll be well taken care of.” The smile on Lewis’ face is so sweet you could almost believe he is just being polite.

Your boyfriend doesn’t even say another word to you, walking away toward his business partners after patting you on the shoulder.

“He evidently trusts you.” Lewis says, raising his eyebrow at you.

“He has absolutely no reason not to.” You fire back at him, feeling defensive.

“Come on, let’s go get a drink.” Lewis ignores you, wiggling his now empty drink in the air. 

“I thought your car was going to be here in a second.” You say, raising an accusatory brow at him as you cross your arms over your chest.

“I said it would be here in a little bit,” Lewis starts, taking note of your eye roll at his words, “It will be fine, I’ll have you back before Prince Charming gets his drunk ass back to your room.”

“He’s not drunk.” You defend him unnecessarily, making Lewis laugh.

“If he’s getting drinks with Vance, he definitely will be by the time he’s back. Come have a drink with me, I’ve missed you.” Lewis shakes his head, evidently familiar with the man your boyfriend is getting drinks with.

“You’ve missed me?” The words come out of your mouth without meaning to, you’re genuinely surprised he’s even thought of you since you parted ways.

“Yes, of course I have,” He laughs, directing you toward the bar, “I always enjoyed myself with you. I still don’t get why you left.” His voice sounds vulnerable as he lets the last bit slip.

“You know exactly why I left.” You say, mindlessly following him to the bar against your better judgment.

“No I really don’t, you never really gave me an explanation. You just disappeared.” Lewis argues with you, keeping his voice low as he directs you onto a bar stool.

“Lewis, we both know nothing about what we were doing was sustainable. There’s no way you could have ever given me what I need.” You sigh, not wanting to have this conversation, especially not in public.

“And what is it that you need? Some guy that can’t satisfy you? You’re really trying to tell me that you’re happier with him than you were with me?” Lewis continues to push you, waving down the bartender.

“Lewis, I was never with you, and besides that, you have no idea what our relationship is like.” You defend yourself, not directly answering him.

“I think I saw enough to know that you’re not having fun.” Lewis shoots back at you, waiting for the bartender to make his way over to the two of you.

“It’s not about fun, it’s about stability.” You say, trying to stand your ground.

“You deserve both.” Lewis mumbles as the bartender appears in front of you.

Lewis orders for you, not needing to ask what you want, confident in his prior experience with you.

Your mind wanders back to the rare times that you would go out in public with him, hidden in the back corner of dive bars. The two of you getting tipsy off of shitty drinks before falling into bed together. It was rare times like those that made you fantasize about actually being in a relationship with him, dream about what your life would be like with him giggling through kisses as a permanent fixture.

“What have you been up to?” Lewis pulls you out of your thoughts, thankfully changing the subject.

“Just the usual, not much has changed.” You shrug, taking a sip of the drink in front of you.

“Descriptive,” Lewis teases you, “nothing new? How’d you meet your square?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “You really want to talk about my boyfriend?”

“I need to know what I’m up against.” Lewis shrugs as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

“You’re not up against anything because it’s not a competition.” You deadpan, annoyed with his confidence.

“Everything’s a competition babe, that’s life.” Lewis laughs, taking a sip of his drink,

You can’t help the way your stomach flips at the familiar pet name, it’s been so long since you’ve heard it fall off his lips, it came so naturally to him.

Somehow you find yourself engaged in a normal conversation with Lewis eventually, discussing his race season and other projects he’s been working on. You’ve always loved to hear him talk about the things he’s passionate about, easily getting lost in his words. You stay with him, enjoying the shockingly easy conversation, indulging in more drinks than you should. It’s not until you see him check his watch do you think about how much time has probably passed.

“So is your car here yet, or are you planning on holding me hostage?” You ask him, filling the momentary silence.

“Not used to many hostage situations that include free drinks,” Lewis laughs, “but we should probably head out front, car will be here soon.”

“Thank you for the drinks by the way.” You say quietly, sliding off your stool to follow him out of the venue.

He just smiles, no words leaving his mouth as he places his hand on your lower back, guiding you out with him. It doesn’t take long before his car is at the curb, his hand not having left your back as he urges you into the car. Despite the multiple seats available, he settles into the seat directly next to you, his thigh touching yours sending electricity through your whole body. You curse yourself for how simple it is for him to draw a reaction from you. 

“So where’s the square got you staying?” Lewis asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Shut up.” You mumble before giving him directions that he relays to his driver.

There’s a large part of you that’s surprised he seems to actually be taking you back to your hotel, expecting him to try so much more before actually granting you your freedom. You can’t help but be slightly annoyed with your boyfriend for putting you in this position, even if he doesn’t know your history with Lewis, the rumors surrounding him should be enough to keep your girlfriend from being alone with him. Even if your boyfriend trusts you, why does he trust Lewis so much?

The drive is mostly silent. Lewis has his arm up over the back of your seat and as much as you want to fight him on it, push him away, you can’t bring yourself to do so, you enjoy the feeling of being so close to him. His body heat is intoxicating in the worst way, you can’t help but relish in the familiar feeling, so used to being cocooned in his arms. You can tell that you’re getting close to your hotel by the familiar streets, Lewis still scrolling on his phone as if he could care less that you’re sat next to him for the first time in nearly a year. Maybe he’s given up, you think. Maybe he’s finally respecting your boundaries. All of that is thrown to the wind when the car begins to slow down. He scooches even closer to you, his head dropping to your neck.

“My offer always stands, I meant it when I said I miss you.” He whispers in your ear before placing a kiss to your throat.

A small whimper leaves you involuntarily, secretly missing the way that his lips feel on your skin. You can feel a slight smirk on your skin as he pulls away, not far. His face comes up, directly in front of yours, his nose just grazing your own. Everything inside of you is screaming at you to get out of the car and not turn back, but your body is drawn toward him, he can feel it too. One large hand finds your thigh, running up the outside of it, just under the hem of your dress. You relish in the feeling of his calloused fingers on your skin for the first time in far too long. His eyes are heavy as he stares at you, hooded and darkened with lust. He leans forward just the slightest bit, ghosting his lips over yours. When you don’t pull back or fight him, he takes it as a good sign. His grip on your thigh tightens as he leans forward and properly connects your lips. The second his mouth is on yours he lets out a deep groan, one that seems to have been locked inside him for a long time. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, his tongue finding yours mindlessly. His tongue swirls against yours as his other hand comes to find the back of your head, pressing you harder against him. Your hands have a mind of their own, coming up to find the sides of his strong neck, not even thinking, you’ve been in another world since the second his lips found yours. When he finally departs you find yourself chasing his lips, making him peck yours once again.

“Come back to mine, babygirl.” He whispers, out of breath.

You let out a small whimper, your brain clouded by all of the ways you could explore him tonight, let him explore you.

“Yeah?” He coaxes, his head dropping back to your neck, “We can have so much fun babe. Everything you’ve been missing this last year, I promise.”

“Lewis, I can’t,” You just about groan, frustrated but sticking to your guns, “we’ve already crossed too many lines. I can’t do that to him.”

You try to push Lewis away but it’s worthless, his light assault on your neck is welcomed despite your words.

“Yeah, maybe we crossed a line. Why not cross some more? Hmm?” His words are spoken through kisses trailing up your neck and across your jaw, slowly making his way back towards your lips.

“Lew,” You breathe out, pushing at his chest once again, finally he disconnects from you, just barely, “I shouldn’t. I can’t, it’s not fair.”

“No, it’s really not fair is it.” Lewis shakes his head, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips, a whole different meaning to his words.

“I need to go.” You whisper, moving to get out of the car.

“Hey,” Lewis stops you, a hand on your wrist, “you still have my number, let me know if you change your mind. I’m only a few blocks down.”

You offer him a small smile, not sure how to respond and not able to be in his presence any longer. You slip out of his grasp, closing the door on him as you do. You can feel the heat from where his fingers gripped you, a burning sensation on your skin. You try to shake the sensation from your body as you make your way up to your room. You can hear his car drive away in the background, having to stop yourself from turning around and going back to him. When you arrive back to your room, its empty, your boyfriend nowhere to be found, evidently still out at drinks. You sigh, flopping down onto the mattress. You want to scream. It’s so unbelievably unfair that someone can still have such a hold over you, despite having not seen him in a year. Lewis is addictive, and reintroducing an addictive substance to someone who has just barely become clean is always dangerous.

It’s a few hours before your boyfriend finally returns to the hotel. You’ve long since changed into comfier clothes and are lounging on the bed watching a random show, grateful to finally be out of your heels. When he finally arrives you can tell he’s beyond wasted, just like Lewis had predicted.

“Hey hun.” He slurs, swaying in the hallway as he tries and fails to steady himself.

“Hi,” You giggle, “have a good time with Vance?”

“Yeah,” He laughs back, “woulda had a better time if you had came along though.”

“You look like you had plenty of fun,” You raise a brow at him, “go change and come to bed.”

“I just don’t get why you didn’t want to come, honestly I would have closed that deal so much quicker” He says as he goes into the bathroom 

“I told you I wanted to get back to the hotel, I was tired.” You sigh

“Not too tired to hang out with Lewis Hamilton.” You can hear the anger in his voice and it makes you want to laugh.

“Really? You’re the one who told me to stay and hang out with him, not only that but you trusted him to take me home. How is that my fault?” You’re already annoyed as the words leave your mouth, already frustrated beyond belief in so many ways.

“Jesus Y/N, if I knew getting drinks would put you in such a mood maybe I would have come home sooner.” Your boyfriend says from the bathroom.

You have no idea where his sudden attitude has come from, you refusing going to drinks should not have put him in such a mood.

“I’m not in a mood, I just don’t appreciate you implying that I turned you down just to hang out with Lewis.” You argue as he exits the bathroom, his shirt now off, just in his suit pants.

“I know you didn’t leave that gala for quite some fucking time.” He spits at you drunkenly.

“What are you even talking about?” You ask him, confused how he even knows, not that it should even be an issue.

“You were too tired to come get drinks with me to help me with an important investor but you can stay and have drinks with Lewis Hamilton for another hour?” He accuses you, not taking into account that it’s partially his fault.

“We were waiting for his car so we got a drink,” You defend, “and how do you even know how long we were there?”

“People know you're my girl Y/N. Apparently people find it a bit strange when they see my girlfriend drinking at the bar with one of the most notorious playboys in the game.” His voice is slowly getting louder, putting you even more on edge.

“Oh so you have people keeping tabs on me now?” You question him.

“I don’t need to ask, they just do it. It’s embarrassing Y/N. I don’t need people thinking that my girlfriend is out fucking athletes.” He throws at you, rolling your eyes.

“All that should matter is that you know!” You yell at him.

“Do I?” His voice is laced with venom, a sudden distrust that you’ve never seen from him before.

“Well you certainly fucking should.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“How do you know him?” He ignores your argument, taking a step closer to you.

“I told you.” 

“Yeah you told me how you met him, sure. How do you actually know him, because you seemed to be pretty fucking close.” He fires at you.

Your anger has reached a peak, not wanting to deal with your boyfriends drunken anger, you let the walls down.

“You really want to know how familiar I am with him? Hmm?” You challenge him.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” He scoffs.

“Yeah, he fucked me for a year straight. Best I ever had.” You shrug, your voice venomous. You have let all of your cares slip away.

“Excuse me?” Your boyfriend is seething, your last comment sticking with him.

“You heard me.” You say, your voice eerily calm. 

“You say that and then expect me to believe you didn’t fuck him tonight? How stupid do you think I am?” He sounds almost amused as he asks the question.

“I could have, oh god I could have, I was this close,” You hold up your fingers to emphasize your point, “but I didn’t. Ya know why? Because I’m in a relationship, I fucking you! I couldn’t do that to you. Yet here you are accusing me of going behind your back. You left me alone with him, you let him take me back to the hotel. Why? So you could prove a point about what you think of me?”

“If you were so close to fucking him, why don’t you go do exactly that?” Your boyfriend just about screams at you.

You’ve never had a fight of this magnitude, especially over something like this. Hearing his distrust and anger makes you rethink everything about him. Your mother always told you that drunk words are sober thoughts and you can’t help but feel that in this moment. In that moment you give up, why even try to convince him to trust you, if he thinks you’re going to cheat on him now why would he ever think differently.

“Fine.” You shrug, your voice calm.

“Seriously?” He’s taken aback, clearly not thinking you would act on it.

“You obviously don’t trust me so why not.” You say, not looking at him as you gather your things. You have no real plan about where you’re going to go, sure you are leaving things behind but not caring, just needing to get out of the room and away from his vile behavior.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re literally proving my point right now, you’ll fuck anyone who gives you attention. I thought I had managed to tame that shit in you.” He spits, watching you pack your things.

“Tame me?” You whip around at his words, “First of all, I’m not a fucking zoo animal. Second of all, if you’ve never trusted me why the fuck are you even here?”

“Jesus, I thought you could be better, you had so much fucking potential.” He sounds remorseful and it makes you want to scream. How dare he think you needed fixing.

“Fuck you, I’m done.” You say, your things finally zipped in your bag as you put on your shoes. 

He’s still yelling things at you as you make your way out of the room, not caring to stick around to hear what other awful things he has to say to you. You don’t properly breathe until you’re in the elevator, finally sure he’s not following you. That’s when you realize you don’t have anywhere to go, a lump forming in your throat as you think of everything that was said. Mindlessly you take out your phone, hesitating for a moment as you look at Lewis’ number, blocked for so long. You unblock him as you step out of the elevator and into the lobby, walking out to the street as you call his number, praying he’s not asleep. Going to him is probably the last thing you should be realistically doing, but he’s the only person you want to see right now.

“Hey stranger, I knew you’d end up calling.” His voice is cocky through the phone, you can hear his smirk.

“Lew.” You croak out, your tears finally coming to the front.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks, his tone changing drastically, immediately aware that something isn’t right. 

“You said you were staying nearby, can I come over?” You almost want to laugh at how desperate you sound.

“Of course, I’ll send you a car. Are you still at the hotel?” His voice is laced with concern and care and it makes your tears fall harder. It’s ridiculous that someone who had never been emotionally available could care for you more than your boyfriend.

“I’ll walk, just tell me where you are.” You shake your head as if he can see you.

“Y/N, it’s too late for you to be out walking alone, I’d be worried the whole time. Let me send you a car.” He argues.

“I need the fresh air honestly, just tell me where to go. Please.” Your voice breaks at the end of your plea, convincing him not to argue with you more, he can tell he won’t win.

Against his better judgment he finally tells you where he is, offering to stay on the phone with you while you walk. You’re tempted to take him up on it but you need the time to yourself. You’re still not sure why you feel such a desperate need to see him but it’s all you can think of at the moment.

The walk helps your head immensely, your agony switching to anger. Part of you wishes you had just gone back with Lewis when he offered, you would have proved your boyfriend right and still had a good night. If he doesn’t trust you, why be good for him?

When you arrive at Lewis’ hotel, he’s waiting in the door to his suite for you, his suit from earlier still on. He immediately takes note of your scowl and bag, his eyebrows raising. He doesn’t say a word as he steps aside to let you enter the room.

“That fucking asshole.” You say, dropping your bag as you finally turn to face a very concerned Lewis.

“What happened?” He asks you, cautiously approaching you.

“He doesn’t trust me! I could have come here and fucked you hours ago, but no, I stayed in his room and waited for his drunk ass to get back like a good little housewife. What do I get when he gets back? Accused of fucking you.” You let out in one big breath.

Lewis’ eyes widen, a slightly amused look on his face underneath the concern.

“So he accused you of cheating on him?” He questions, still trying to fully figure out what he’s dealing with.

“Oh not only that, he said he thought that he had tamed me, told me I embarrassed him.” You let out a bitter laugh.

“So he’s a square and a dumbass.” Lewis states with a cock of his head, frowning.

“Oh fuck you.” You spit at him.

“I’m just saying, no man in his right mind would ever be embarrassed by you.” He says softly, approaching you to put his hands on your arms gently, rubbing up and down softly in hopes of calming you somehow.

The gentle action makes you want to cry again, fall into him and never let him go. As if he can tell, he pulls you into his chest, holding you tight. You wrap your arms around his neck. You let yourself revel in the feeling of being in his arms, holding you so tight you almost can’t breathe, but you welcome it, you’ve missed it for so long.

“So why are you here baby, to piss him off?” Lewis asks quietly, loosening his grip on you slightly to get you to look at him.

“I don’t even know, I think I just wanted you.” You sigh, embarrassed by how needy you sound.

He smirks, pleased in the knowledge that you may want him in any way shape or form.

“Why the hell are you still dressed up?” You suddenly ask him, confused by how much time has passed since he left the event.

“Had an after party I had to go to, just got back a little while ago.” He shrugs, his arms still wrapped around you.

“So why the hell were you trying to get me to come back with you if you had things you had to do?” You question him.

“If there was any chance in hell you would come back with me I was blowing that party off in a heartbeat, don’t care if I pissed anyone off. Haven’t seen you in ages, couldn’t let the chance slip.” He explains, looking you dead in the eye.

The thought that he would have rather spent his night with you than going out and networking makes your heart clench, it’s something your own boyfriend never would have done, evidently. His admission makes you throw caution to the wind, missing the feeling of being wanted, you pull the back of his neck so you can connect your lips to his. He seems almost surprised for a moment, not expecting anything to happen due to the state you had arrived in. He only hesitates for a moment before responding with full force, his lips fully claiming yours like they’ll never touch another set.

He groans into the kiss, the sound going to your core immediately, its always been one of your favorite sounds. You take your hands from around his neck, pawing at the button of his jacket, desperate to feel the smooth skin and hard muscle he has hidden underneath. The second his jacket is open, running your hands up his torso, reveling in the strength, your lips never parting from his. He pulls back slightly, a cocky smirk spread across his swollen lips, his hands firmly on your backside.

“What do you want, baby?” He questions, his tone knowing.

You whimper in response, trying to catch his lips again as you work to push the jacket off his shoulders.

“Words Y/N, you know that.” He reprimands you even though he is reaching behind himself to pull his jacket off, throwing it over the nearby chair.

“Fuck, I want you, please.” You whine out, annoyed you even have to ask. 

His hands come back to your ass, taking greedy handfuls as his lips drop to your neck, brushing over the skin as he speaks, “You want me to show you what you’ve been missing out on? Remind you how good I can make you feel?”

All you can do is nod as you brace yourself on his large biceps, a panted ‘yes’ falling from your lips. Within seconds his hands have fallen to your thighs, scooping you up to walk you towards the bed in the large suite. He drops you down on the bed, letting you bounce as he stares down at you with hungry eyes. The mood has shifted so drastically since you arrived, the whiplash is making your brain spin. Within moments he’s on you again, his lips hungry against yours as his large hand trails up under your sweatshirt. You wished you were wearing something cuter but the feeling of his hands on you threw every thought out the window. As his lips trailed down your neck you explored every inch of his muscular back under your palms, feeling the way the muscles flexed every time he adjusted his position. Wordlessly your sweatshirt was thrown up and over your head before his lips attached to your bare breast. The moan you let out was something you didn’t recognize from yourself anymore, a sound you hadn’t made since the last time you had him.

Over the course of your relationship with your boyfriend, sex had become more of a chore, something you knew you needed to do to keep the relationship working, it obviously didn't work. Your boyfriend tended to rush through things, chasing his own high with yours as more of an afterthought. Lewis however, he took his time with you, he always had, he would never be done until you were absolutely wrecked beneath him.

Lewis’s lips were trailing down your body, his tongue tracing every inch of skin it could reach. Hot, wet, sloppy kisses being left against every dip and curve of your figure. When he reached the waistline of your sweatpants, his eyes flicked up for a moment, locking with yours. There was a faint question in them and all you could do was nod, bucking your hips up towards him, urging him to take them off. 

“So eager.” Lewis just about chuckles, pulling down your pants and thong in one move.

You can’t help but squirm when his eyes lock onto your heat, staring at you like he’s going to destroy you. His large hand splays across your bare waist, keeping you in place as his other holds one of your thighs out to the side.

“Patience babe, don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you.” His voice is teasing but you can hear the tension behind his words, he’s just as worked up as you are, the evidence is visible in his dress pants.

He leans down, pressing soft kisses along your hip, making his way further down slowly, much too slow for your liking.

“Lewis, please.” You whimper, hoping he will speed up the process and ease the ache between your legs.

He smirks, locking his eyes with yours as he latches his lips around your clit with no warning. You shriek, the sound turning into a guttural moan as his tongue laps over your nerves. You can feel the stubble of his beard on the inside of your thigh, his eyes still have left your face. You can feel the cocky smirk that spreads across his face as he lowers his face, lapping at your drenched entrance.

“Fuck baby, you really needed this didnt you?” He taunts you, breathless.

All you can do is whine his name as his skilled mouth returns to your core.

“God I missed you, always taste so fucking good.” He murmurs against you.

His tongue makes his way inside of you as his thumb comes to rub at your clit, making your back arch. Finally having him inside of you feels so good, but you need so much more and he knows it.

He pulls his mouth away, his thumb still tracing patterns across your nerves.

“Need you to come for me babygirl, could feel you clenching around my tongue, I know you’re close.” He’s out of breath and when you finally look at him you can see your arousal glistening on his lips.

You writhe on the bed as he presses a finger against your entrance, teasing the slightest bit of pressure before inserting the thick digit deep inside of you. His tongue comes down to replace his thumb against your clit as he slips another finger inside of you, massaging the spongy spot inside of you just right that you scream. The sound rips out of your body coming from deep in your throat as your pleasure courses through you. You can feel yourself soaking Lewis as he laps up your release, humming contentedly, like youre the best meal he’s ever had. You barely have the ability to push him away, too sensitive and he knows it, that cocky smirk plastered across his face as he finally sits back. You barely even register that he’s moved back over you until you feel his fingers on your bottom lip, your own pleasure covering them.

“Open up babygirl, need you to taste just how amazing you are.” His voice is soft yet strained as you let his fingers slip past your lips, swirling your tongue around them. He lets out a soft groan, his eyes locked on your mouth as you put on a little show for him, still half delirious. 

When he finally slips his fingers from your lips he trails them down your chin and across your chest, leaving a trail of moisture that makes you shiver.

“Think you can take more? Hmm?” His lips are near your ear, you can feel the hot air of his voice against your humid skin.

“Please, god please.” You beg him, desperate to feel him again after so long.

“Been dying to be inside of you since the second I saw you tonight.” He admits into the skin of your neck as he works on the button of his dress pants. You attempt to help but its useless, you’re a useless pile of mush at this point.

He moves himself to stand at the end of the bed, finally kicking off his pants before grasping himself in his large palm. Your lips part inadvertently at the sight in front of you. His bare chest is glistening with sweat, making his tattoos that much darker and showing off the prominent shape of his pecs, his tattooed bicep is flexing ever so slightly as he slowly strokes himself, his eyes wandering over your naked body. When you finally trail your eyes down, your breath hitches in your throat. You’ve been with him countless times, but nothing can ever prepare you for just how thick he is, just how long he is. He has a cock that most men would pay to have and he knows it. He notices your staring, one side of his mouth curving into a knowing smirk. You’re sitting up, crawling towards him mindlessly, desperately trying to get your hands on him. You don’t even have time to properly register it when all the sudden you're being picked up like a rag doll and maneuvered onto all fours in front of him. You’re not even sure how he did it, his strength and your delirium making everything happen so fast. Within moments you feel his body pressed up behind yours, his mouth coming down next to your cheek.

“Gonna make sure my girl knows that no one will ever make her come like I do, gonna have you screaming my name baby.” He whispers, his voice sounding like pure sex. Your stomach clenches when he calls you his girl.

You feel him lining himself up with your entrance and all you can do is whimper into the pillow below you. With one hand grasped around his cock and the other a bruising grip on your hip, he takes a second to tease you, giving you the slightest pressure at your aching hole before slipping out and thrusting forward to nudge your clit. He’s leaving you a whining mess before he’s even inside of you and he’s absolutely loving it. He stills momentarily, lined up with you again before thrusting into you all at once. The force makes all the air leave your lungs as you slump even further forward. You hear a loud groan leave his chest and you wish you could see him, see the ecstasy across his face. His large palm soothes down your spine before pushing down, making you arch your hips up toward him even more. He barely gives you a moment before he’s rocking his hips, your body still working to accommodate the size its gone so long without.

“Good girl, you can take it.” His voice is low, demanding yet endearing. He’s the one that taught you about your praise kink, always so vocal about how good you make him feel.

His pace slowly starts to build, his thrusts becoming harsher as he keeps pressure on your back, keeping you just how he wants you. You can feel yourself getting even wetter as you listen to the moans leaving his body, your own sounds being nothing but gasps and whines. He’s hitting the perfect spot, over and over, and you can feel your stomach start to tighten. Rarely have partners even been able to make you come with just penetration, but everything is different with Lewis, it always has been.

“Fuck, already?” Lewis asks, his voice sounding almost amazed from behind you, “Fuck babe, I can feel you clenching my cock already, you gonna come again? Gonna fucking soak me like a good girl?”

His pace picks up, determination behind each thrust as his grip on your hips becomes even tighter. His voice alone is enough to send you over the edge again, the sound of pure sex. He groans loudly as he feels you come around him, working you through it but collapsing over you. He lets your hips go and you're dropping down flat on the mattress as he continues to pound into you from above. You can hear the slick sounds of him fucking into you and it makes everything so much dirtier. You’re moaning his name like it’s the only word you’ve ever learned.

“That’s it baby, just like that.” He coaxes you through a groan.

He doesn’t let up, the new angle making your toes curl as his weight bares down on you. He has one hand on your hip once again while he leans on his forearm next to you. You feel him start to move himself up, hooking your legs over his hips, your back bending backwards for him. He slows his pace ever so slightly, adding more force behind every thrust, making you squeal and grab at the sheets beneath you.

“Fuck, Lewis, I can’t, I-“ You whimper, too sensitive and too fucked out to properly string a sentence together.

“Yes you can baby, I know you can, go ahead and give me one more.” He soothes you, slapping your ass in contradiction to his kind tone.

You blindly reach your hand out behind you, wanting something to ground yourself on. He grabs your hand, giving it a squeeze before pulling out of you entirely. The sudden loss of contact leaves you confused before he’s flipping you onto your back, spreading your legs and sliding home once more. This time he grabs both of your hands, lacing your fingers with his as he braces them next to your head. His pace is still slow but unforgiving. His pupils are blown out and hooded as his eyes bore down into your own that are now teary.

“I got you, m’right here, let go, I know you can.” His voice is strained and you can tell he’s trying to hold his own release off, desperate to feel you come again.

His lips attach to yours, sloppy and wet as he sucks on your tongue. One of his hands lets go of yours as he trails down to your cores, gently flicking at your nerves to feel you clench before settling on a relentless speed that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Say my name baby, tell me who’s making you feel this good.” His tone is possessive and cocky as he pulls away to stare at you, obsessed with your face as you climax.

You scream his name as your orgasm washes over you, feeling like a tidal wave that has washed away anything but him and the ecstasy youre floating in. You hear him let out a deep guttural groan as his hips falter, trying so hard to fuck you through your own climax but the feeling of you squeezing around him is too much. You feel like you're floating when you feel him twitch inside of you, coming for longer than he ever has with you. You revel in it as he collapses down onto you, a comfortable crushing feeling that makes you never want to leave the bed.

You’re not sure how long you laid there, letting him pepper your neck with sloppy kisses as you tried to stroke his sweaty back, your efforts not the most successful as you felt like jello. You could feel the comforting feeling of him softening inside of you, still so big. You still didn’t feel like you were inside your own body when he finally pulled out and cleaned you up. It wasn’t until he was turning off the light and climbing into bed next to you, still naked, that you really felt human again. As he pulled you into his chest you felt an overwhelming sense of dread, knowing there was no good way for this to end. You were silent, nuzzling into his chest, trying to hold on to the moment for as long as possible.

“For the record, I meant what I said, no man in his right mind would ever be embarrassed by you.” Lewis says, tightening his arm around your waist.

You don’t respond, just press a kiss to his chest, enjoying the scent of him.

“I should know, I fumbled you pretty fucking hard.” He continues, much to your surprise.

You lift your head to look at him, shock written across your face.

“I’ve missed you.” He says, staring into your eyes in the dark room.

“I’ve missed you too.” You admit, laying your head back down to rest on his chest.

“I’ve got some other events to go to this week, come with me.” His words sound less like a question and more of a statement.

“Excuse me?” You look at him again, once again surprised.

“Come with me and let me show you off how you should be. I fucked up once, not doing it again.” His words are confident, sure of himself in every way.

You’re not sure how to respond, elated by the fact that this is exactly what you’ve wanted for so long, and terrified by the same thing. Words don’t come to you, all you can do is stretch up to kiss him, your mouths frantic against each others. His arm tightens around your waist as he pulls you up to lay on top of him, your legs falling around his waist. You kiss him mindlessly, brain dead at the feeling of his lips.

“Like I said, my girls gotta be taken care of.” He says against your lips as he moves you to slip himself inside of you once more.

As you slide down onto him once more, feeling him fill your heart and your core, you know no one else will ever be good enough for either of you again.

to anyone that's been made to feel like they can't talk about their special interests/hyperfixations I'm sorry.

you deserve to have people who will listen to you. you're allowed to be excited and passionate about things. you should be given the time and space to talk about the things you love. you are not a burden for wanting to do so.

i think the way you light up when you talk about the things you love is amazing, and you deserve to surround yourself by people who think the same.

James Bond

Paring: Cliff Booth x fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, subtle praise kink, oral (m receiving), older guy young girl trope

Summary: Whose idea was it to hire a stunt double as a lead? It was an utterly awful, unfathomable idea. That was, until you got to know this mysterious lead… then, things become so much more.

Word Count: 6.1k

As a child in Los Angeles, all I ever wanted to be was a movie star. There was something endearing about watching people move on television and knowing that every step, twirl, kiss, and line was meticulously planned.

They made it look so natural, as if they came up with it on the fly.

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Some things I say to myself while watching The Last Kingdom:

“Uhtred, I love you, but you are a walking, talking disaster.”

“See, if Eddie would have listened more to his ‘uncles’ Uhtred and Finan, there would have been no reason for all the murder later.”

“Biggest injustice in the whole series: no naked Finan. Followed closely by Finan never getting to hit Aethelwold. He was always so done with him. And honestly, same.”

“Aelswith really went from ‘Uhtred, I hate you with ever breath in my body’ to ‘I’ll take a room with an ocean view.’ Enemies to, ah, roommates?”

“Ragnar, my sweet Dane boy. You never did anything wrong ever. I am sorry your brother’s an idiot.”

“Thyra deserved so much more.”

“Finan.” (Usually followed by a sigh and curses cause he has distracted me again from major plot points)

“Finan, I love you, and you look great, but I cannot watch this part again, my man. So, go be distracting somewhere else.” (As if this will magically change the editing and have the camera NOT be on him)

And lastly….

“I swear to God, 99.9% of Uhtred’s problems would be solved if he just, I don’t know, talked about his thoughts and feelings. Instead of picking up a sword and being a dick about it.”

young ragnar + affection

(requested by anonymous)

seeing Haestan in Valhalla rather than Young Ragnar

when the fuck is it my turn to be called an investment

Brandon Sklenar as Spencer Dutton 🥃+🚬

In His Thrall

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, age gap, power imbalance, size kink.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You serve the king but one day, he assigns you a new duty. (short!reader)

Characters: Harald Finehair (Vikings)

Note: This turned out longer than I intended. It’s my first fic for this fandom. Also tagging @alicedopey for her encouragemnt.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Mario loves pipes. Take care. 💖

Harald Finehair. The man who made himself king. So the tales say.

Spurned by a beautiful princess, he swore to seize a crown, to make himself wanted by every princess across every realm. Often it is that lives are woven like sheep’s wool, to lend an air of romanticism to rejection or war or death. You’re not certain what to believe about the king but he does not fall short of his name. His hair braided down his back with fine ornaments of silver and gems collected from lands you’d never know.

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Ryan Corr for GQ Australia (2016)

I have dozens of AO3 tabs open on my phone. Many of them are my comfort fics that I’ll read at any given time on any given day if I just want to.

And I realised today that if something I write becomes a permanent tab on someone’s phone or computer, then the hours and hours of work and time and tears I spent creating it will be well worth it. 

So, write the thing. It’ll mean something to you, and you never know what it could wind up meaning to someone else.

An older brother and one of his buds, heading off for a weekend of camping, riding their bikes on two-lane blacktop and gravel back roads in the Eastern Townships. Quebec

1959

alex forgetting his own age 🤝 remembering how to say nicholas o'malley backwards

alex forgetting the lyrics to american sports and 505 🤝 knowing how to say one specific line of one for the road in french

(via @ riverxturner on IG)