#if they somehow manage to meet in this space of peace i think dom would freely call john ‘homolander’

[mellowswriting]

Hey I saw your requests are open! I love the quarantine series! I’ve been on a Marcus pike kick lately and I’ve been super stressed about college and my work load trying to graduate😩 I’d love to hear your interpretation of Marcus when his girl is going through this cause you know he’s 💕that guy💕 - how he’d help you relax and everything... maybe even some smut if you’re feeling up to it 👀

Take a Break

pairing || Marcus Pike x Fem!Reader

summary || Marcus helps you relax after college stress

word count || 2,369

warnings || Explicit Sexual Content (fingering, praise kink, soft dom!Marcus, allusions to p in v sex), stressed out reader, Marcus to the rescue, domestic fluff, ‘good girl’, no use of y/n

a/n || As a college student who is also ready to explode from school stress, this was cathartic as hell to write. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist  |  Join the taglist!

Your cursor hovered over the submit button. This research paper had been the center of your academic focus for nearly three months and had taken up the majority of your energy for far too long. Once that damn paper was submitted, you could breathe easy for a while and not have to see statistics and graphs in your sleep anymore. So you took a deep breath and hit the button, relishing in the relief that washed over you - for approximately three seconds.

There were still assignments to be worked on, textbook chapters to read and take notes on, and you just wanted to throw your laptop into the ocean instead. Fuck it all. In that moment, all of your progress and hard work and the finish line that was so damn close really didn’t seem to matter. You would rather hide under your blankets for the last month of the semester than even think about philosophy notes or biology tests.

But you couldn’t.

There was no way in hell you were going to let the last two years of hard work and a solid grade point average go down the drain, especially when you had a summer well on its way where you could relish in not having academic responsibilities. You rubbed a hand down your face with a frustrated sigh and put your textbook down on your desk - maybe just a bit harder than necessary, because the door creaked open a few moments later.

“How’s the paper going, honey?” Oh, Marcus. Your sweet, sweet Marus, who’s words were already making tears of frustration prick your eyes.

“It’s finished. I just turned it in.” You said, your voice devoid of the usual pride that followed a well-written assignment, and flipped open the book in front of you.

Marcus’s hands fell to your shoulders as he stood behind your chair and started rubbing, those strong fingers working the tension from your muscles. “What are you doing then?”

“I still have a ton of shit that needs to get done. Notes and a ton of reading, and I have to study -” You cut yourself off with a heaved breath. The stress was getting to you, you could recognize that, but it wasn’t enough to overpower the anxiety of impending deadlines, even if you still had plenty of time and wiggle room to get them finished.

Marcus paused. It wasn’t the first time he had seen you like this, and he wasn’t about to discount what you were feeling by telling you to relax or something else equally as stupid. “Okay, how about you come have lunch with me? You need a break. You can’t be productive when you’re burnt out. Maybe we can talk it out, help you come up with a plan.”

It took a moment for you to convince yourself that it was okay to leave your desk, to focus on something that wasn’t your classes for a little bit. When you nodded, Marcus smiled at you bright enough to melt some of the frustration. Unbeknownst to you, he had a little something planned.

If there was anything true in the world, it was that Marcus Pike was the best man the world had ever seen. The stress you were feeling had been building up for the past week, growing heavier with each moment that it went unchecked, and he could tell. It was obvious in the way you held yourself, in the way that all the sleep in the world didn’t help the tired look in your eyes. He knew he could do nothing to help with the actual classwork itself, but he could do whatever it took to ease the stress.

So the moment you essentially chained yourself to your desk, Marcus set about with his plan. First, he tackled the housework. He cleaned the kitchen and living room until they were spotless, grateful that your headphones blocked out the sound of the vacuum and kept his little project a secret. Then he cooked up your favorite meal and lit your candles in the living room, leaving the space warm and homey.

The surprise on your face was worth all of the effort. You buried your face in his shirt to hide the tears of appreciation that sprung into your eyes, your fingers fisted in the fabric as you tried not to full on cry at his sweet gesture. You sniffled a quiet laugh before you wiped the wetness away from your face.

“God, what would I do without you?” You pulled him close for a kiss, one he reciprocated eagerly. Those big, warm hands of his settled on your cheeks, thumbs rubbing sweet little circles against your cheekbones.

“I find myself asking the same thing everyday I get to wake up next to your pretty face.” He whispered against your lips and gave you one last kiss before he guided you to sit on the couch with your soft throw blanket tucked around your shoulders.

“Marcus… you didn’t have to do all this…” You murmured as he handed you a plate and settled in next to you with his own.

“Of course I did,” He rubbed a soothing hand up and down your calf. “Besides, this isn’t even everything.”

You captured his hand in your own. “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you, too.” Marcus chirped with a smile, lifting your joined hands to kiss your knuckles. “Now eat up, you need your energy.”

Never in your life had you felt more appreciated, more taken care of, and apparently this wasn’t all he had planned. He finished eating before you - you swear, that man practically inhales food - and he drew your feet into his lap to gently massage the arches. It didn’t take him long to ease the stress of the looming workload. Somehow, he always managed to find the perfect words to remind you just how capable you are and that you were on the right track.

You set your plate down on the coffee table and slid closer to Marcus’s side, all too ready to curl up with your lover and spend the rest of the day soaking in the bliss that flowed from him, but he was quick to stand and urge you to your feet. The moment of confusion dissipated when he led you to the bathroom, where he had laid out the makings of your favorite stress reliever - a bubble bath.

“Oh, Marcus.” You sighed as he began filling the huge tub, already stripping out of your clothes in excitement. “You better get in there with me.”

“But this is supposed to be about you, not me.” Marcus said with a small shrug.

“I’ll enjoy it even more if I have my man with me,” You purred, stepping into his space in only your bra and underwear to press a lingering kiss to his lips. The surprised hum he gave you made a little thrill fly through you. “Please, baby?”

“Anything for you.” Marcus smiled as he reached around to undo your bra and pull the straps down your arms, moving on to curl his fingers under the hem of your underwear and tug them down as well. He kissed your thigh when you moved to step out of them.

Marcus yanked his clothes off with no flair and stepped into the steaming bath, settling into the water so quickly that it damn near sloshed over the sides of the tub. He reached for you and you couldn’t help but smile. It was precious, the way he guided you into his lap amidst the bubbles and pulled you close against his chest.

Little kisses were peppered along your shoulder and up your neck, the heat already working at your sore back. Marcus’s hands slid up your belly, cupped beneath your breast to hold you close, and the combination of his presence with the heat and soft floral scent of the bubbles had your worries slipping into the background.

“I missed this.” You murmured as you melted against him, your head lolled back on his shoulder. It had been far too long since you felt peace like that. Marcus’s fingers rubbed soft patterns into your skin and you were in heaven.

“Me too,” He kissed your temple and you could feel the smile on his lips.

“Thank you, Marcus.” You looked up at him. He seemed just as relaxed as you felt, his head tilted back against the edge of the tub, eyes closed. “You make me feel sane in the midst of all this stress. I don’t know what I would do without your support. You’re such a good man.”

Marcus whined low in his throat. Your praise always did something to him, lit a fire in his belly and made him want to squirm with happiness. All he ever wanted was to make you happy, make you feel as cherished and loved as he possibly could, at least as much as you made him feel. Normally he was good with his words. He could wax poetic about how much he loved you and how he was the luckiest man alive with you by his side, but your sweetness left him dumbstruck.

Since his mouth couldn’t form the words he wanted to say, he used it to lavish your bare skin with kisses as he rubbed at your tense muscles, your skin slick with the soapy water. He could feel the small moan he worked from your body and smirked - he absolutely lived for those little sounds, the ones that told him he was making you feel relaxed and happy. Your hands slipped down his thighs that bracketed your body and began mimicking the circles he massaged you with.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one helping you relax, sweetheart?” Marcus teased despite the way his cock was slowly hardening at the small of your back, only provoked further by the light drag of your nails along his thighs.

“Can you think of a better way to relax?” You teased right back as you arched back slightly to grind against him, using your hands on his thighs to support yourself. Marcus inhaled sharply and you could feel the subtle way his hips pressed up to meet your movements. Need began to build low in your belly.  

“Are you sure?” Marcus rasped and at your nod, his hands slipped around to your front, one hand settling low between your hips to firmly hold you against him, the other trailing down to cup your sex. Your low gasp made him hum, a dark tone that you recognized from those moments he took you apart piece by piece in the comfort of your bed. “Are you feeling needy, baby?”

“Always need you.” You spread your thighs, bracing your feet between the sides of the tub and his legs to support your desperate little grinds against his fingers. His middle finger curled to glide up to your clit but he didn’t give you the friction you craved, that damn tease. “C’mon, make me feel good. Please?”

The desperate quality your voice had taken on was enough to make Marcus moan against your neck, his tongue shooting out to wet his lips before he whispered in your ear. “I’m gonna make you come before I get you in that bed. A little reward for all your hard work, hm?”

Before you could even whine out your need for his promised reward, he finally began moving his finger against your clit and pleasure flooded you, leaving you to meet his movements with little circles of your waist. Marcus would usually tease you at least a little before delving in and drowning you in pleasure until your legs were shaking and your mind was left blank, but he seemed to be in a giving mood after all of your efforts. Every pass of his fingers over your clit had that tension pull tighter, your pussy tightening around nothing. You ached for something to fill you, his fingers, his cock, you didn’t care. The relief of pleasure after so much stress had your release building faster than you were used to, and your hands fumbled for purchase to keep you grounded to reality as Marcus worked you closer and closer to orgasm.

One hand clutched at his wrist, desperate to keep him right where you had him, and the other found itself buried in Marcus’s hair. He angled his head to give your better access, letting you grab at him to be your anchor, kissing up your neck and placing his lips right at your ear.

“Good girl,” He rumbled, chuckling at your sweet little gasp. “Such a good girl for me. You gonna cum all over my fingers, aren’t you? Yeah, you are. That's it.”

“Oh god, Marcus…” You gasp in that pleading tone that made something possessive bloom in his belly and he redoubled his efforts, taking your earlobe between his teeth and tugging slightly. “Fuck!”

Water sloshed over the sides of the tub with the intense way you jerked against him, your orgasm cracking through you like a sharp flash of lightning, arcing and splintering up your spine and leaving you wrapped in a warm haze. You trembled against his chest, your legs snapping closed around his hand as he slowed his movements until his fingers were completely still. The warm water eased you even further into that sweet headspace of your afterglow, made more sweet by the kisses and praise your lover pressed into your skin.

“You still with me?” Marcus murmured and you looked up at him with that dazed look he absolutely adored. At the sight of your pursed lips, he leaned down and kissed you, slow and languid as he let you find yourself again. Wandering hands helped ease you back down to earth, his strong hands working at your already loose muscles. “You did so good, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”

You whined quietly at his praise, curling closer for more kisses and affection, only to whine again when he pulled away. “Please?”

Marcus chuckled. “Fine, but I’m getting you in that bed in a few minutes. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”

{Taglist}

@iamburdened @everyhowlmarksthedead @jenrebloggingfics @xserenax-13 @silverstarsandsuns @luminescentlily @peterpstuff @leonieb @lazybeeches @withasideofmeg @freeshavocadoooo @chattychell @ew-erin @i-ship-it-ironically @artsymaddie @mrsparknuts @wyn-dixie @notabotiswear @lunaserenade @jitterbugs927 @theorganasolo @the-witty-pen-name @northernpunk @lemonlime09 @la-lunaluna @andruxx @greeneyedblondie44 @bloodsuckingbastards @coldlilheart @gracie7209 @green-socks @paintballkid711 @lord-of-restingbiface @asta-lily @sarahjkl82-blog @a-skov @himbotroy @marvelousmermaid 

[tipsydipsydo]

Request: "Can I get an imagine with dom male reader x taekook, where the reader had a bad day and the boys cheer him up with fluff or some smut, thank you!"

Requested by: anonymous

Pairing: Sub! Taekook x Dom! Reader

Gender of the Reader: male

Word Count: 2k

Genre: Fluff (Idk? xD) and some Mentions of Smut at the End

Warnings: not really buuut the reader has a bad day and some anger outbursts; Swearing; a bit smutty content at the end; soft Dom-/Sub-Themes; sub! Taekook; Dirty Language; Dirty Talk

A/N: first Reader x Member Pairing request uhhhh~ 🥳

...and to the dear anon who requested this, I hope you'll be able to find this here! 😅💜

Links:

My Masterlist for your requests!

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「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Taehyung sighs and looks on the display of his smartphone for the sixth time in the last five minutes. Still no message from you, even though it's already 11:28 a.m. and the meeting should have started at 9:00 a.m.

Actually, this one today should only be clarifying the last questions and then the final contract should be signed, right? And that can't last more than two and a half hours when you had the deal with the potential investor already at the last meeting (more or less).

The company you work wanted to expand and enter a new part of industry, so they were looking for a possible investor. And your boss chose you to take over and lead the subsequent negotiations with the agency of the Investment Group!

This is an extraordinary compliment for you that your boss recognizes and appreciates your skills. He also said that, depending on how well you present the company to investors and able to manage and coordinate the whole process, you also have chances of being transferred to a higher position!

So you did everything, really everything, to convince the investors and to arrange the deal. You don't want that you've sat in the office late into the night and worked countless overtime hours for nothing, especially when there is a possibility of getting into a more attractive position and thus also better payment.

It looks like your efforts are paying off. Already at the first meeting, where you presented the company and the idea for the expansion, the investors were very interested and said at the end of the meeting that they would be very happy about a subsequent meeting.

In the weeks that followed, further meetings took place and hypothetical, but nevertheless very concrete planning approaches started then. The last meetings felt like the deal was already finalized and they're already discussing how the plan was actually implemented.

The boys were be happy for you and every time you had another successful meeting-day behind you, it proved, that the night shifts in the office seems to pay off.

They confirmed to you that the deal is almost completed and all you need now is just the investors' signatures on the formalities.

Well, that's what you want to get today.

Despite all the optimism, Jungkook and Tae are getting more and more worried about it because you still haven't told them about the good news (they can't be any other way)!

After all, signing contracts doesn't take three hours?? Then finally, at 11:47 a.m. comes the redeeming "Ping!" simultaneously from your two boyfriends smartphones.

Kookie and Tae make a competition out of 'who can unlock his phone faster and with it, congratulate you for the successful deal'. Kookie is the first one who enters your shared group chat. But his smile disappears as he reads your short message. It may be short, but Jungkook has to read it several times to really understand the meaning behind it.

You [11:47 a.m.]: The deal is off.

"W-What ... What the-", comes over Jungkook's lips. In this moment, Tae is faster than Jungkook and he’s the one who respond to your message first.

Tae♡ [11:48 a.m.]: What?? Why?! How they could choose against the deal?! I mean, you said the deal is as good as made and they were insterested right at the beginning?

You [11:49 a.m.]: Fuck, I don't know it?! They just said, "there are some logistical problems and expectation differences betweem their comany and ours" and "that we couldn't solve them together even after new discussions and compromises". That's why they said the deal is off and simply dropped us. I can't believe it, everything went so good until now, WHY the fuck they decided against us?!?!

You [11:49 a.m.]: They said there would be some 'expectional disagreements' ...did they mean that the financials? That the certain sum of money they've to invest into our new project is too high? But then there are always possibilities for discussions and new compromises?! God, that fucks me so up! I want to know what their goddamn problem is!

You're sitting in the company's cafeteria and are trying to calm yourself down before the lunch break will ends. So that you can return to your work desk with a more or less cleared mind and somehow are able to survive the afternoon.

You thought, after the incompleted deal and your chance to get promoted was wasted, your day couldn't actually get any worse.

Well yeah, it's possible.

You know that when David turns around the corner and looks at you with a big spiteful smirk, apparently he has already heard about the news. This asshole is not even trying to hide his satisfaction about your dropped deal.

Of course, like every damn time you have to meet him in the building, he has to leave his very personal comment on it. You don't know why you were punished for having to work with him in the fucking same department?!

"Hm? I heard that the meeting didn't went so well, after all the investors jumped off. But it was already foreseeable that it won't work anyway. I don't understand why Mr. O'Brien chose you of all people for the Management of the investment-coordination for this project.", just when you hear these first words, the anger in you starts to grow in lightning speed.

"I mean, let's be honest and that's what I'm gonna say is not meant to be rude, I just want to give you a little helpful tip. I assume that everyone in our Department will agree with the fact that you still have to work on your presence. If you want to get an investor interested in a project so that they're willing to provide financial resources, then you have to sell the deal with ambition, self-assurance and self-confidence. Investors need to know what your concrete plan is, that you're standing 100% behind that project and that it'll be profitable for everyone!"

"I think you lack a little bit of dominance and assertiveness, you should work on that urgently. Yeah, you can be submissive in your own bedroom when it's that what you like, but in the tough economic world you have to be able to assert yourself. That's just a tip from me. Despite the disaster, have still a nice day~", he said in a mocking tone, patting you on the shoulder and then going whistling to the food display of the cafeteria.

You need a moment to realize what exactly this bastard shamelessly said into your face. He doesn't know that you're the Dom in the relationship, he just wanted to put a little more salt in the open wound of your injured pride. And that hit a dangerously sore point. How dare this bastard to say that you're the submissive part in the bedroom?!

You're about to go after him and become verbally abusive, you won't let yourself be offered such a talking shit! But you know it better, you would only make things worse if you stand out negatively now through emotionality. You already know that this action would only confirm David in his opinion about you. When you behave unprofessionally now, everyone could think that you are unable to deal with defeats. So you try to swallow your anger and frustration as best you can down and just ignore David for the rest of the day. Even when you really want to punch him into the face.

However, to give the anger at least some space, you complain frustrated to your two darlings about everything. They listen to you patiently and rebuild the image about yourself again. But also plead to you, to please don't do any crap mindlessly, led by emotions.

You're really glad when you can finally finish work and end this catastrophic day.

When you open the door, the pleasant warmth of the apartment welcomes you and a delicious, all too familiar smell rises in your nose.

These two things alone make you feel as if something heavy has been removed from your shoulders. You take a deep breath and really feel how you return to your inner peace.

You are at home, nobody can strain your nerves anymore, only your two beloved boyfriends are waiting for you.

It seems like they've prepared something for you, so that at least the evening of today will be better than everything else before. Jungkook is at the stove and is cooking your favorite dish. You wrap your arms from behind around him and give him a gentle kiss in the crook of your neck, letting his scent soothe you. When you also feel the warmth of Taehyung on your back, everything is suddenly not as bad as you first thought.

The boys bought your favorite wine for your favorite dish, which makes the dinner perfect. It looks like Taehyung is about to get up to get the dessert or so, when he stops and looks at you with a nervous but excited smile. On Jungkook's cheeks, you can see a hint of a blush too. You raise an eyebrow questioningly.

"W-Well... when you texed us that you don't know if you can control yourself around David, to not punching him right into the face... Jungkook and I thought there are other and much better ways to reduce stress and anger... We... well... before you came home, Kookie and I p-prepared each other for you... and right now... we're both wearing your favorite plugs. We thought you'd rather pounding your anger and frustration in us than having problems at work. So... please use us as your stress reliever.", said Taehyung, biting his lower lip, looking at me in a kinda... begging manner? Hmm, seems like there is someone who wants to be fucked hard and rough~

"S-Sir, please dominate me. Own me. Make me to your whining and begging sub...", Jungkook whispers with dark red cheeks. You see the lust and excitement in his dark, dilated pupils, to get used and to take your anger and frustration without any complain.

God, your boys are just perfect. They know exactly how to behave in order to make their master proud.

"It's really the case that you want to be used ad my stress reliever, completely selflessly? Even when I think that this 'reason' just came up to you perfectly, so that you didn't have to beg to get fucked hard and without any mercy again. Hmm, am I right?"

The way Taehyung and Jungkook are blushing and stuttering furiously confirms your guess.

"Such needy horny Boys I have here. Tz tz tz... Come, let's see what I should do to my Babies when they're so greedy for my cock and a rough fuck...", you chuckle devilishly when you go with them to your shared bedroom.

The next day.

You [09:12]: Hey Darlings~ I have really great news! I got my promotion despite of the unfinished deal! My boss was very pleased with the huge amout of work I put in this project and he assured me, that it wasn't because of my negotiation strategy that the investors dropped the deal. There seem to be some internal problems in the Investment Group at the moment, which is why they can no longer support projects at the moment. And guess what I've been promoted to... I've become department head and that means I'm now David's boss! I think now we both can discuss who has to work on his assertiveness ... 😏😈

You [09:15 a.m.]: And I hope you're okay and your precious asses are not too sore~ ​​love you ❤

[kittensjonsa]

When you watch something (not telling you what it is) and it screams Jonsa and won't let you rest until you let it out.. another sub/Dom jonsa fic with Sansa holding the whip this time.

Summary: Sansa has deep seated issues she needs to work on thanks to a recent trauma from being mugged in an alley. But sometimes, it takes more than just therapy. BDSM-ish.

One-shot, I leave the rest to your imagination because I think.. we all have different versions how this could go.. 💦 and unfortunately, I am not a good enough writer to explore these visions and putting them into words lol.

Safe Word

Dove.

Little bird. Those are the words that spring to mind as Sansa sees the forms before her. It is strange, having to fill out forms and giving strangers a piece of her life before she gives all of herself to another. Well, almost.

He did come highly recommended. Sansa looks out the window from the lounge sofa she finds too comfortable to be filling out forms in.

Also, this is a sex club.

“You will keep my details private, right? I mean, I'm here because.. you know,” Sansa's voice trails off, wondering if she should explain at all. The lady with bright purple hair and blonde streaks looks up from Sansa's forms, only to smile at her, subtly hinting how she has encountered many a red-faced first timers like Sansa. Only thing, this time it's different. I'm different. Not like the rest, Sansa mumbles in a small voice in her mind.

“Miss Stark, I can assure you have our strictest confidence. Besides, your therapist made a call earlier this week to let us know about… your case. Don't worry, she didn't say anything, she just asked for Jon to help you. And that's enough for us to know. And, yes this is only between you and us,” the lady assures, the piercing on her lower lip quivering as she smiles again at Sansa.

Oh right, yes. My case.

Sansa nods and glances at the black tinted glass doors behind the counter. Sansa wonders what awaits her, come the day when it beckons.

“We'll give you a call once we've set up your appointment. You'll hear from us in a few days.”

Sansa heaves a sigh of relief and manages a polite grin. “Right, thank you. I'll.. wait for your call then, Miss Val,” Sansa addresses her after a quick glance at the name plate. Val nods and waves her goodbye and calls for the next one in line. Sansa gathers herself and leaves, regretting what fresh hell she had gotten herself into.

The hours ticked by at first when Sansa found herself in bed and staring at the ceiling. When sleep finally came, the nightmares took over. Sansa had tried everything from herbs, to tinctures and sleeping aids. None helped, because none of these, not even the anti-anxiety medication gave her the peace that was robbed from her, one fateful night in an alley. There were so many things Sansa realised, in retrospect, how the night could have gone differently. If she had taken the train instead of walking to the bus stop, if she went home on time instead of staying back an hour later, if she hadn't answered that goddamned phone call from her ex. But it only wrecked her inside and turned her stomach into knots every time she walks down that particular memory lane. Six months later, Sansa still finds herself in her nightmares, crawling in that alley, bruised, battered and mugged.

Seeing a therapist was the last resort. Describing and reliving the experience again was painful but gradually it eased, no longer was Sansa sobbing at the end of a session, thanks to Dr Carr, her therapist whom had provided an outlet Sansa didn't know she needed. Slowly, the sessions grew less arduous. The nightmares lessened somewhat though haven't ceased completely. Perhaps it was only thing that caused great concern, seeing what little sleep she'd been getting. Six months since a deep, restful sleep, Sansa recalls.

“There's a deep anger that needs to be resolved. Pure rage that I feel needs to be addressed here, Sansa. As someone, I think, who rarely expresses such an emotion, I can imagine this must be quite difficult for you,” Dr Carr suggests, tapping the end of her pen onto her notepad. Sansa sighed as she brushes off some imaginary fluff from her skirt.

“Might I suggest something? You might think this is quite strange but I feel it can be freeing for you. It's.. an acquired taste and you don't have to if you don't want to but perhaps you may want to consider letting all this anger out? On someone.. who is willing?”

Sansa raises her eyebrow at the 'willing' part. “You mean find someone to beat up?”

A wistful tilt of the head tells Sansa only one thing. “I don't recommend this method to anyone but I feel that you, Sansa, will find that it helps. I'll write down the address so you can decide for yourself. Now, before you say anything, I'd like you to approach this with an open mind. As open as you can possibly be.”

“What is it that you suggest, Dr Carr? I'm all ears.”

An address with a name. Jon Snow. Château Noir. Sansa answers back with a questioning glance. Sounds mysterious. Another therapist? Am I that hopeless?

“He's highly recommended. I heard of him from someone in my circle. He does… very particular work. And he has helped one of my former patients it seems, last I heard. So, moving forward.. I think you might want to try him.”

To do what exactly? This is uncharted territory. Sansa's mind wanders off to the darkest bits she was brave enough to muster.

“He's.. a provider of services for a small part of the community, whom I suppose require an outlet for their.. inclinations.”

Sansa's eyes widens at the statement and Dr Carr quickly adds, “Please, bear in mind that I do not in any way think that you have such inclinations but rather, been pushed against your own free will to a corner you no longer have space to move in. And it is affecting you more than you can cope. Am I right to say that? And I think one of the ways we can break out of that space.. is to face it head on, in a safe and controlled environment. I heard he's very professional. Would you at least think about it?”

Seven o'clock. As always, she is on the dot. Sansa fidgets with her jacket, hoping she was properly dressed for .. her meeting. A good sized room filled with contraptions Sansa thought she'd only seen in movies. The kind with mediaeval torture segments. Sansa quickly realises how this was probably a bad idea. But she had paid for it, that and also not wanting to face a disappointed Dr Carr, after the arrangements she had made.

Together, they both had made good progress; this is just a step further, she thinks. Still, torture devices aside, it was a cozy room otherwise for conversation if nothing happens. If she doesn't want anything to happen, that is. Sansa finds some small comfort how the lighted candles seem to brighten up the otherwise dim room, and a soft scent lingers in the air. Sandalwood? Rose? Sansa tries to guess, occupying herself while waiting.

The door creaks. A head of inky black curls and a boyish smile greets her. Sansa gasps. He isn't at all like how she imagined. And good-looking. Dr Carr didn’t mention that. 

“You must be Sansa Stark. From Dr Carr's office?”

Sansa nods and gingerly reaches out to meet his hand. She quickly looks away, out of courtesy. Perhaps also out of shyness and embarrassment. Quite the impression, and straight to business.

The harness strapped across his broad sinewy shoulders and chest made her jaw drop. And the crotchless leather trousers. Good thing he has briefs on, as Sansa's eyes dart back to the floor.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Jon Snow. And I'll be your sub tonight. At your service, whatever you need.”

Sansa sucks in a deep breath and blinks at the sight before her. All right no conversations then. Willing party. For fuck's sake, get over yourself and get it over with.

“Umm.. okay. Right.. oh, do you have.. a safe word?” Sansa remembers to ask, putting her bag down and removing her stifling jacket. He smiles again, his eyes shining in the poor light of the room. They gleam with anticipation. Somehow, Sansa had a feeling he had been waiting for her arrival, the moment she stepped into his lair. His castle. Strangely, not an ounce of fear filled her body, but something else entirely. Something hot and heady, as her breathing quickens.

“Well, thank you for asking. I do have one. It's.. crow.”

Sansa watches him slide across the room to a standing handle bar that stood chest high. A pair of shackles sit ominously on the handle, waiting to clamp on the next poor soul.

“Okay. But.. hold on. Don't you want to ask me questions? Sorry this is my first time, I don't know how this works,” Sansa apologizes as Jon stands behind the handle bar.

“Ahh, yes of course. But later, if you'd like. Sometimes, thinking about it, hampers.. the process. I know it is your first time. Don't worry, I'll lead you into it. Just.. tell me what you want to do, how do you feel and why you're here. At least that gets the ball rolling, no?”

“Well.. well-I'm here because I need to let some anger out,” Sansa stammers, suddenly feeling very large, self-conscious and awkward.

“Okay.. and why are you angry? Did someone take something from you?” Jon prods, his voice and tone as soothing as Dr Carr's.

“Yes.. yes. And he hurt me... He beat me. He left me for dead in an alley.. I had to crawl home, no one helped me..”

Jon keeps quiet as he watches Sansa, his heart slightly heavy. Poor girl. All the more she needs this, he thinks.

Sansa stops, the rage Dr Carr was talking about had finally reared its head. Ugly and snarling and all Sansa wanted to do was to smash its head in. Indeed, this is exactly what she needs.

“Well then, Mistress. Shall we begin?”

Sansa looks up from the floor and sees Jon already shackled to the handle bar.

And a loosely coiled whip hanging at one end.

---

Note: Dr Wendy Carr is a character who is a psychologist on Mindhunter and I adore her (and aspire to be like her one day). So much so that she deserves a place in my fics lol. Sorry, she's not an oc 😂 if you're wondering.

[zankivich]

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 12.5

*Shawn’s point of view*

There’s no snow on the ground in Georgia is the first thing he notices. The second thing he notices is that y/n and him have polar opposite upbringings. She takes him to a house that he has to bend down for his head to clear the doorway. The length from the driveway to the front door is a shorter distance than it took for him to get to his room growing up, and the neighborhood of houses looks nothing like the acres of land his father owned. But the second they enter the house there’s music playing. Al Green seems to blast from every corner in the kitchen. Despite the fact that there’s no snow on the ground, the house couldn’t be filled with more warmth. There are voices that carry from the kitchen with laughter and joy and snarkiness. It’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced in his life.

She holds his hand and pulls him deeper into the house towards the sound of the music and the laughter. In the kitchen there’s a group of women all sitting around a table cooking various foods. One’s got a potato peeler and sweet potatoes. One is busy mixing butter into flour with her hands. Another seems to be chopping vegetables. There’s an older lady who sits at the table simply overlooking everyone else. But none of them are y/n’s mom, and he knows that immediately because they look just alike. Her mother was at the stove with a big spoon and an even bigger pot mixing what smelled awfully similar to y/n’s famous greens. They had the same cheek bones and the same smile and the same hips, though her mom’s were fuller. If the similarities in likeness didn’t do it, the way each of them screeched upon eye contact surely would’ve connected the dots.

“MY BABY!” She cried dropping her spoon into the pot and making a b-line straight for y/n.

“MOMMY!”

They embraced and squeezed and jumped and cheered just to each other. It was the happiest he’d ever seen her. And he loved every second of it. All of the nerves from the car completely faded away as he watched his girlfriend get this special moment with her mother. And he knew immediately that they’d done the right thing in coming. This is exactly what she needed.

“You look beautiful.” Her mom giggled squeezing her cheeks and moving down to prod at the rest of her body. “And...thin. What they feeding you in that city girl?”

y/n rolled her eyes. “Momma I can take care of myself. I been telling you that for years.”

“Mhm and I been telling you for years that there’s no pain in letting others help your stubborn big head out.”

He chuckled at the joke, alerting the room to his presence. And that’s when everything shifted.

The entire room turned to look at him. The lady with the sweet potato stopped peeling. Her mom’s eyes widened. The older lady at the table stares at him in a way that makes him feel small, smaller than he ever has in his life. Suddenly he’s sweating. Has he always been sweating? Oh God. Thankfully y/n comes to the rescue.

She steps back over to him and wraps her arms around one of his.

“Everyone this is Shawn. He’s my boyfriend. If you break him, you deal with me. Shawn this my auntie Debrah, my auntie Janet, my auntie Carolin, and my grandma Gina. And that’s my mommy Audre.”

He cleared his throat and threw on his best smile holding up the peace offering he brought in the form of alcohol.

“Hello. Thank you so much for having me in your home for the holidays. I think if I tried to cook for the two of us I might have burnt the place down, and y/n surely would’ve killed me before the fire did.”

Grandma Gina laughs. It’s a big belly laugh for such a tiny woman. She was the same complexion as Audre except with silver hair that went all the way down her back in a neat braid. Even if she was small, she was far from frail, her hands resting on a cane that she knocked into the floor as she laughed. Everyone else turned to her, and it was as if once he received her approval the rest of the room dissolved into laughter as well. He released a big breath and leaned into y/n’s side. They might not hate him after all.

Audre walks over to the two of them and gives him a look over from head to toe. He feels small again. He never needed to be liked so much in his life. He peered over at y/n who was smiling hesitantly at her mother like she was just begging her to like him. He wanted to ask if he should get on his knees or something.

“This one hmm?” She asked.

Y/n looked up at him and smiled warmly before nodding at her mother like a child picking out their pet at the pet shop. He smiled at Audre and nodded too.

Audre snorted. “Oh lord. Okay. I’m Audre. You can call me Audre.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you Audre.”

He moved away from y/n just long enough to hug her and was surprised at the warmth that she could bring to a touch. Like mother like daughter apparently.

“Oh y/n, this boy is just as bony as can be too!” Audre complained poking at his stomach. “Even more so!”

He chuckled. “Ma’am I have forty-two percent muscle mass.”

“Good for you. We’ll make sure to change that today. Pull him up a seat y/n before he wastes away.”

“Oh lord.”

“Yea, y/n pull me up a seat before I waste away.” He grinned.

She unabashedly punched him in the arm and went to take off her coat.

“Boy yo legs ain’t broken. Get your own chair.”

Ah yes. He’d forgotten completely who he was dating. Woops.

He finds that “home y/n” is one of his favorites. She pulls up her sleeves and joins her mom at the stove and it’s like she’s completely in her element. He learns that in her family the women all come together to cook. It’s always at Audre’s house every year, and no one is allowed into the house until all the food has been cooked and is ready to eat. By the time the night was over, the house would be full of every family member in town and all those who could make it from out. They assured him there would barely be space to sit, but they all found a way. For them Christmas day was spent with immediate family and then everyone would come together for a meal. It wasn’t about presents, but just being able to be together.

They all love her so much. Auntie Carolin and Auntie Debrah just ask her questions about work and the city and all the incredible things that she gets to do. And y/n couldn’t be more humble. She stays away from the after parties and the jets and focuses on what matters. She told them the story of Normani crying in her dressing room after the VMAs, how she was the first black woman to win her award in nearly a decade. She told them about being in the studio and watching people create, getting to be apart of something bigger than herself. And he can see it in their faces. There’s no jealousy, or ill will in anyway. They’re so incredibly happy and proud of everything that she does. It makes his stomach and his heart feel full to watch people who know just how amazing she is. And she is.  It’s overwhelming even more so than usual.

“Here, taste this.” She hummed plopping down on his lap with a big wooden spoon.

It was the sweet potatoes from earlier in this wonderful concoction of brown sugar and cinnamon and butter. He groaned around the spoon.

“That’s amazing.” He sighed. “When can I eat it?”

“How your forty-two percent muscle mass ass eats so much I will never understand. Let me see if I can sneak you some.”

“K. Love you, sweetheart.”

“Yea, I love you too bighead.”

“I heard you got a big head too.” He argued.

“Yea and if you ever wanna see anything besides my big head I suggest you forget what you heard. And swiftly.” She smiled.

“Sounds like a plan!”

“That’s what I thought!”

God he loved her.

***

*Y/n’s point of view*

Fifteen minutes. You left for fifteen minutes to go to the bathroom and scrub the pie crust from underneath your fingernails. Only to come back to your boyfriend Disney prince-ing your whole entire family! Tina Turner’s greatest hits had matriculated into the line up of music and Shawn was taking turns twirling every woman in the kitchen around the room. You watched as he somehow managed to get your grandmother out of her chair and into his arms so that he could waltz her slowly around the kitchen table. Every single one of those women had turned into gushing teenaged girls. It was absolutely pathetic. And incredibly on par with your reaction to him as well. Where had they made him at?!

You stepped gently up to your grandmother, fingers easing softly onto her shoulders as she leaned back to smile at you.

“Can I steal him for a second grandma?”

She nodded warmly. “Girl go on ahead. My hip was starting to hurt.”

He helped her back to her seat and accepted the kiss on the cheek that she gave him before coming back to you. His arms, long and warm, tugged you into his hold as he twirled the two of you gently back and forth. Neither of you would notice the way your nosy ass family watched every second, but that’s okay. You ran your fingers through his hair and played with the curls until they were big and fluffy the way you liked.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” You asked him.

He grinned. “I told you I’d win them over. I’m charming, honey; what can I say?”

“The ego on you.” You snorted. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Me neither. I question how I managed to get you just about every day.”

Okay that one was smooth.

“I think it was when you let me sleep over for the first time.” You hummed.

His eyes widened at the revelation of you actually having an answer to his question.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you remember?” You paused to lower your voice. “When we did the ropes for the first time? You let me stay. We did something totally new that  neither of us had ever done before. And it was amazing and we took care of each other, but it was still a little overwhelming. I didn’t even have to say anything, but you let me stay. And you pretended to cook too many eggs the next morning so I would have breakfast. I think that’s the first time you really got me.”

He smiled warmly and pushed his head deeper against your fingers.

“I was terrified of hurting you. I just wanted everything to go right, and I wanted you to feel good and only for it hurt if that meant it still felt good. And also you looked so cute when you were sleeping I couldn’t just let you leave without breakfast.”

“See? You cared about me.” You grinned.

“I always cared about you, y/n. Always.”

“Yea. Now that I think I about it, I think I did too.”

“Good.”

He presses your lips together like it’s nothing. Like your whole matriarch isn’t there. But when his lips are soft and warm and moving against yours, it’s hard to care about much else.

***

It should have come as no surprise that the rest of your family would love Shawn just the same. He happily jumped into the rough housing of all the younger kids, carrying two of your cousins on either of his arms through the living room while another one held onto his leg. Everything about him was perfect. And it’s not that you didn’t know that, didn’t know that you loved him and loved all of the things about him besides the parts that you didn’t. It’s just that he fell into your life so easily. He made himself at home and he picked up right where everything else left off. And you didn’t know how but it made you feel good.

You were standing at the entraway way of the living room by the kitchen watching him with your arms crossed when your mom came up to lean against you.

“Hmm...He’s a nice one isn’t he?” She hummed against your shoulder.

You nodded. “He really is.”

“Is he...the one?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh momma!”

“I’m just asking. Girl, I want some grandbabies. And the last person you brought home to meet me was in high school. I might not get another chance.”

You let your face fall into your hands in mortification. Dating in your thirties was tough. No matter how progressive the country might--or might not--be, family always complicated things. Your mom was of an era where marriage was a thing that you did no matter if you were in love or not. Cue the fact that you hadn’t seen your father since you were eight. You in all of your confidence and all of your womanhood, didn’t see marriage nor children as requirements. They didn’t even exactly scream appealing to you. You’d be happy with your apartment and maybe, at some point, a cat. That was really your goal, your happy place. It just so happened that maybe Shawn complicated that a bit for you.

“He’s young.” You murmured watching him get tackled down to the ground by children. “He’s not even twenty-five yet. He’s got no idea what he wants.”

“Is that so? So y’all are really just playing around huh?”

You paused and looked over your shoulder at your mother. You shook your head hesitantly.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

She tilted her head in question. “Then what would you say, y/n?”

“I...I don’t know. I’d say we’re really enjoying each other’s company. I’d say we’re very serious about actively making each other happy and working to co-exist together because we enjoy each other so much. But it’s not like he wants to move in with me, or start a life with me. I don’t want to ask that of him.”

“Now which is it? Is it he’s not ready, or you don’t want to ask him if he’s ready?”

“It’s...It’s...dammit momma, why you always gotta ask questions?” You whined.

“Because I am pushing sixty child and I want some grandbabies! Before I die.” She huffed.

You rolled your eyes again and turned back over your shoulder only to catch Shawn staring at you with a similar level of fondness that you had for him. He tilted his head in ask that things were going okay. All you could do was nod and smile. He didn’t need to stress about your mother being crazy. That was your job.

***

Aretha Franklin plays in the background. You’re sat on the floor together with the tree in the background. It’s quiet with all of your extended family long gone. Your mother fast asleep, it was time for you and Shawn to finally share presents with one another. You, in one of his sweatshirts and leggings after the long day. Him in another and those plaid sweats of his that you really liked. His hair is pulled back with a headband and it makes you smile. He hums Natural Woman to you as he sets a box in your palm.

“This one, I just thought was pretty. It’s not a big deal, okay?” He murmured.

“Okay, okay. Gimme!” You whined.

They were hoops. Big ass hoops. Big ass, rose gold diamond encrusted hoops. It was like he knew the way to your heart and had every intention of nestling himself there.

“Wow. They’re beautiful! Jesus, Shawn.”

“You like ‘em?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Of course I do, are you kidding me?”

“Good. That makes me happy”

You kissed him in thanks, his arms wrapped tight around your waist.

“I love you.” You murmured handing him a gift of his own. “I hope you like this. I thought it was pretty too.”

Shawn’s watches were one of his most important accessories among many.  You’d grown incredibly fond of the sound of his watch hitting the dresser when he undressed for the night. It always meant he was there to stay with you. And it always meant he was yours for the night. So, getting him a watch felt like the obvious choice. But, this wasn’t just any watch. Shawn’s watches were usually bulky and flashy, an ode to his father no doubt. This watch on the other hand came with a fine, black leather band that was more classic and refined. The face was large in a similar fashion to more contemporary brands. It was rose gold and this beautiful rich navy blue color. It was so gorgeous you’d thought about keeping it for yourself. Instead, you figured you’d rather look at it on his wrist instead.

“Shit, babe this is beautiful. This must’ve cost you a fortune.” He gasped. “This is for me?”

“‘Course it is. What other bighead is sitting in this room?”

He whined. “Damn, you bought it for yourself? That’s tough.”

“Rude!”

“What, you can call me bighead, but I can’t call you bighead?” He smiled placing his watch to the side so that he could stalk closer to you.

You pouted at him. “Exactly.”

“That doesn’t seem very fair, my love.” He chuckled before sobering. “Thank you. It’s amazing. I love you.”

He kissed you again. You decided to not be mad at him anymore. For now.

Amongst the other things you’d gotten for each other was an envelope. He pulls you into his lap and wraps his legs around yours in warmth and protection. His body seems to touch yours at all points, and when you lean into him it feels like home. More so than being home. How could that be?

“Promise me you won’t freak.” He murmured when you went to reach for the envelope.

You raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Promise.”

“No! What are you trying to get me to promise? What’s in there?”

He smiled. “Nothing bad.”

“I told you no islands, Shawn.” You whined.

“It’s not an island, sweetheart.”

“Or a country. Or any ridiculously large piece of land. Or anything more than my rent.”

He rolled his eyes and nuzzled his head into yours until his curls covered your face and you couldn’t speak.

“I actually didn’t spend anything at all. Now will you hush and open the damn envelope?”

“Hmm. Give it here.”

You reached for the envelope, your finger sliding under the paper to rip it open.  Inside was just a piece of paper. No island. No car. No country. You frowned down at the sheet in confusion. It was a listing. And at first you thought he’d bought you a new place to live, which truly would have been quite ridiculous. But, no. He was right; he hadn't bought anything. He actually sold something instead.

“You--you sold your place.” You mumbled in shock.

“I did.” He nodded. “Part of our trip wasn’t just about us getting away and having fun. I also needed the movers to be able to have access to my apartment.”

“Oh Shawn. You really, really didn’t need to do that for me.”

“No, I--I very much did. And I didn’t need you to ask, okay? What happened there, what that guy did...I could never ask you to go back there. And I don’t want to. It was easy to leave. Trust me. I couldn’t stomach living there anymore either way. It was really for the both of us.”

You turned in his arms so that you could better view him. He immediately reached for your cheeks just as you reached for his. You each seemed to sigh in relief at the touch of the other.

“I can’t believe you’d do that for me.” You whispered eyes dampening against your will.

He smiled, eyes big and clear and so warm. His oversized thumb wipe at a tear that trailed down your cheek before he kissed any traces left behind.

“I’d do anything for you. I thought I’d made that clear by now.”

“You have. Come here.”

His arms around you tug until your more in his lap then on the ground. His lips find yours and your arms tangle the two of you further together. He kisses you so sweet that you’d be weak in the knees if you even attempted to stand. His tongue is soft, and it feels like a dream when his hands trace your body as well. It’s not the usual charge of lust and trying to crawl inside one another. This one is just sweet, just feels like holding each other close and nurturing each other. It feels so perfect. It’s a very merry christmas.

“Thank you.” You told him when it was all set and done. “I think this is the best christmas I’ve had in years.”

“Good. Just wanna make my baby happy is all. Seems like you make me happy every day, least I can do is repay the favor, right?”

“Yea well you do that and then some.”

When all the paper has been torn and your gifts have been open, all that’s left to do is drink hot chocolate at your mother’s kitchen table and sneak pieces of pie and left over ham. It’s without a doubt the best christmas you’ve ever had. And it’s entirely because of him.

“Hey...Where are you gonna live now?” You asked around your mug.

“Oh, you know that high rise over by the coffee shop you like to go to in the morning?”

Your eyes widened.

“You didn’t.”

He shrugged. “I did. It’s like ten grand cheaper than what I was spending, and I heard really hot women hangout at the coffee shop. There’s a gym there too. So you know, I was really being selfish.”

“Shawn I could...I could walk to your place.”

He nodded and reached for your hand.

“Is that...okay? I don’t want you to think I’m encroaching on your space. I know how much that means to you. I just want you to know that my space can be your space too ya know? If you want. I’ll be around.”

“Uggggggggh! You gotta stop that!” You whined quickly butting your head into his shoulder.

“What?! What’d I do?”

“You can’t be so sweet that you make me feel things like I’m thirteen again! It’s gross. It makes me feel all fluttery and bubbly. I am a woman dammit.”

He only laughed at you like the jackass that you were and tugged you deeper into his arms across your chair.

“You’ve made me feel fluttery since I met you, and I’m not ashamed of it. I like that I can make you feel good. That’s all I wanna do.”

There was simply nothing else you could say to a man that looked the way that your boyfriend did saying the things that your boyfriend said. All that one could do was to pick up the leftover pie from the table and shove it in his face. And run of course. That you could do too.

“Oh you are in so much trouble!” He huffed from across the table where you now stood, poised and ready to leap. “And not the kind you like!”

You leaned on the chair laughing at the whip cream that covered Shawn’s face and eyes.

“You look pastier than normal!”

He shook his head and wiped the remaining pie off of his face before reaching his hands out towards you.

“Come here, y/n.”

“No.”

“Come on. You know what’s coming.”

“If you touch me, I will tell my momma.”

“You better call her then!” He grunted lunging after you.

You quickly turned and ran through the house like the child only he could make you feel like.

“MOMMA!”

***

The morning you had to leave for the airport, you woke up without a boyfriend. Your fingers had programmed a tendency of their own to go searching for him upon wake up, but when they came up empty all you could do was frown at the space on the pillow where his head had once been. Before you could get too annoyed though you felt  the warmth of breath between your thighs that with ease made your legs part. Turns out he wasn’t far after all.

“Babe.” You smiled back arching as you stretched. “What are you doin’?”

You felt his tongue trace your thighs before he popped out, curls first from beneath the covers.

“Just wanted to start the day right. With my favorite thing to have for breakfast.” He grinned pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “You.”

You rolled your eyes and definitely shifted your hips to be closer to him.

“You know if my mom caught us, we’d both be dead right? And you first?”

“Guess you’ll have to be a good girl and be quiet for me. Or do I need to give you something to focus on instead?”

You bit your lip. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Yea? How bout you put my fingers in your mouth and think about how you plan to stay quiet when I make you squirt in a few minutes?”

“God I love you. Yes, please.”

You felt more than heard him hum as he kissed at the outer lips of your labia. You held his hand in both of yours, fingers wettening the digits. He started with long, gentle pressings of his tongue, and bumped your clit every now and again with his nose. Shawn had grown much accustomed to how to get you off. It was his favorite past time it sometimes seemed. He was a wizard at making you squirm, at getting your hips to roll, and your toes to curl. His lips and tongue were so incredibly soft between your folds and he licked and nibbled at your clit like a dream. Your fingers turns to fists in the sheets and your thighs melded to his head as he took you there so quickly.

“Baby,” You gasped. “Baby, please. R--Right there.”

Your favorite was when he placed his oversized hand against your pubic bone and tummy, locking you into place. He used his thumb to focus on your clit, tongue and lips focusing on the rest of you. It drove you absolutely mad. You bucked against his chin, fingers reaching desperately for his head beneath the covers. The covers began to move as Shawn shuffled onto his knees to follow you with his mouth. His tongue was like a dream. A skilled, pointy, softy little dream. And you were like a rocket, just waited to be rubbed until you exploded apparently.

“Oh my fucking god.” You gasped, collapsing back against the sheets.

Shawn did not resurface, because apparently singers don’t need any air once so ever, and instead continued to lick away your release from between your thighs like the little devil he was. Your mom burst into the room just as you were getting your breathing under control.

“Time to get up, y/n! I expect y’all to come eat before you go to the airport.” She explained before closing the door once again.

Jesus.

“Well I don’t know what she’s talking about,” Shawn grinned as he ascended from beneath the covers and crawled on top of you. “I already ate.”

“I hate you.”

***

Tag List

@simpledomain @liliane106 @thecurlsofgod @xeuphorically-moonstruck @euphoric05 @daijanicole @bruhh-whateven@learning-howto-be-myselfx3@decewill@goldiean@bitchacho25 @bruhh-whateven@justbeingoceana@loveylangdon @iloveshawnieboi@september-lace@valedictorian65 @dimestorebieber22@MixerMani @lifeoftheparty74 @sinplisticshawn @kamahriii@disaster-rose@justbeingoceana @thecurlsofgod

Arrangement Taglist:

@moonlightmendes22  @cottoncandyshawn @iloveshawnieboi@shawnsblue

@claredolphinbear24@peterbrokenparker@blackharry@shawnwyr @speakingofmari@moniehp@softmendesss@ydolansss  @MixerMani @kitykatnumber@chonmnds @cottoncandyshawn @shawnase

[andwhatdostarsdobest]

4 year anniversary [t.h]

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: Nothing just fluff

Summary: You are always surprising Tom with thoughtful presents so this time he wanted to be the one to surprise you.

Word Count: 2k

This is my first time posting a fic so apologies for the bad writing 

masterlist

Tom flicks a blanket out in front of him, letting it settle down against the damp grass. He scampers around it straightening out the edges before gesturing for you to sit down. You tilt your head, eyebrows knitting.

“Tom, what’s going on?” you question.

He pointedly steps onto the blanket and lowers himself to the ground, before patting the space next to him, “would you sit down please,” he chuckles.

The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles up at you. Even after four years his smile causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach. The warmth and gentleness of it draws you to him.

“Fine,” you say.

You sit down on the edge of the blanket and slip your boots off, not wanting to make it dirty. As you prop your boots next to each other, you feel an arm snake around your lower waist and a body pressing against yours. Tom tenderly brushes your hair to the side, exposing the soft skin of your neck where he places a gentle kiss. You can’t help but smile. Twisting your body to face him you peck him on the lips.

“Come here, love,” he coos.

He applies a slight pressure onto your waist, pulling you towards him. You shuffle across the blanket until you and Tom are sitting in the middle of it. He reaches slightly farther around you and lets his hand rest on the top of your thigh where he draws small circles with his thumb. You look up at him, his curly hair flopping waywardly- he wanted to gel it back for tonight, but you insisted you preferred it natural. His bright eyes stare back at you, a sense of mischief caught in them.

“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing here?” you muse.

Tom has been mysterious all day, saying he has something special planned for tonight but not giving the slightest hint as to what it might be. You asked everyone you could think of: Harrison, Harry, Sam, Nikki, Dom, even Paddy, none of them would let anything slip. You’re not great with surprises, you need to know what your doing so you can prepare but he said this would be a nice surprise, no need to prepare for it.

“All will be revealed in good time, darling,” he replies, the corners of his mouth lifting into what you now understood to be his impish grin.

“Uhh, you’re so annoying,” you joke, lightly nudging his arm.

He playfully nudges you back, holding down your arms so you can’t retaliate. You squirm beneath his grip, little bursts of laughter erupting from you as you try to break free.

“I don’t think so,” he says, his voice breathy as he tries to hold you down.

You give up trying to resist as laughter shakes your body, Tom has always been stronger than he looks. You shied away from him for the first few months you met, always stopping him before he managed to pick you up, whether the mood was playful or lascivious. You were sure he wouldn’t be able to take your weight. Then one day you were wrapped up in the moment and didn’t feel his hands slide down your back and secure themselves around your upper thighs. He pulled me you with ease, his muscles tensing against your body. You instinctively wound your legs around his waist as he supported you, his kisses still coming fast and heavy.

He’s got you on your back as he hovers over you- somehow this always seems to happen, something about that delectable smile perhaps. Tom’s eyes lock onto yours as you both know how in love you are. He brings one hand up to your face and gently sweeps some loose strands of hair off your cheek, tucking them behind your ear. He grins from ear to ear.

“What?” you ask, your voice light and filled with adoration.

“I never get tired of how beautiful you are, Y/N,” he mutters, his voice deeper, more serious.

Warmth floods your cheeks, no matter how many times he compliments you, you always blush uncontrollably. You try to lean up, to get away from his intense stare, wanting desperately to stop blushing. Why did he hold such a power over you?

“Tom, stop it,” you mumble, drawing your hand over your face, hiding the rapidly growing redness.

He chuckles heartily, a sound that evokes such feelings of comfort and longing within you.

“I’m only telling the truth,” he replies.

He sighs before leaning down to kiss you, your lips part instinctively as they meet his. The cold October air has left them slightly dry, but his lips are still warm, light against your own. He pulls away and you instantly feel his absence. He sits back up as you stay still for a few seconds. From this angle he looks like he is glowing. The sunset fans out behind him, an amber aura encompassing him, the perfect backlight. It highlights his hair. His shirt is somewhat crumpled from your tousle and his hair now flops with reckless abandon. You look at him and can’t believe he is yours. This boy, this beautiful, good-hearted boy, it doesn’t seem real. You can feel your heart blush as you mentally list all the reasons he is perfect to you.

Tom pouts, “what?”

You prop myself up, so you can look him directly in those beautiful eyes, “how are you so perfect? I don’t understand.”

“Hey, how come you get to compliment me and can’t do the same?” He feigns annoyance by crossing his arms.

“I never said you can’t compliment me,” you state, a grin spreading across your face, “just I’ll never get used to it.”

Tom throws his head back as laughter spills from him.

“God you’re cute,” he says in between laughs.

“I try,” you muse, bringing your hand up to your chin and batting your eyelashes.

Tom takes your hand and brings it up to his mouth, placing a delicate kiss on the smooth skin. You shuffle closer to him, lifting his arm up and letting it drop across your shoulders.

You sit in silence for a few minutes, basking in each other’s presence. You could stay this way forever, Tom’s toned arm wrapped around you. You sometimes wonder if he realises how lucky you feel to be able to call him yours. It’s been four years and you still feel luckier every day. You wake up thinking of Tom and go to sleep dreaming of him. You cherish your moments together and know he does to, even if you sometimes don’t understand why.

Your eyes drift sideways and rest on the beautiful boy next to you. He’s looking ahead so his chiselled jaw is the first thing that greets you. Your heart flutters slightly as you remember all the intimate kisses you’ve placed along it’s sharp lines. His lips marginally part as a couple of bird’s swoop through the sky. You feel completely calm and serene, like just for a minute everything around you is peaceful. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from Tom, you love watching him in these tranquil moments, just watching him be.

He must sense you looking as he says, “I’ve been mysterious for long enough, do you want to know what your surprise is?”

“Yes, finally,” you exclaim. You sit up, eager to find out what he’s been planning for your anniversary.

He bites his lip, “well you’ll have to wait until it’s dark.”

You hit him several times on the shoulder and he throws his free hand up to protect himself.

“Tom,” you blurt out.

“Hey, hey,” he breathily laughs as he tries to dodge my swings, “I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“Stop teasing me, Tommy, I want to know.”

You stop hitting him and instead cross your arms. You pout and raise your eyebrows, “please.”

“Don’t give me that look, love. You know I’m a sucker for it.”

His hand slides down your back and grasps your waist, whilst he places the other under your chin, drawing you closer to him.

“You know, Y/N, this has been a crazy four years but whenever I felt overwhelmed by it all, I just thought about you and how you would tell me I am being an idiot.”

You let your mouth drop open and take a sharp intake of breath, “I would never call you an idiot.”

“I am one, so you wouldn’t be wrong,” he chuckles.

You gently shake your head, as he continues, “I wanted to do something special for you.”

“You know you didn’t have to,” you interject.

“Actually,” he draws away, “I did. You always get me amazing and thoughtful presents, this time I wanted it be you who is blown away by my,” he places a hand on his chest, “thoughtfulness.”

“It’s not a competition you know.”

“No, but this time I’m going to win.”

“Idiot.”

“You won’t have to wait long, I promise,” he says.

You settle back into the crook of his arm and lay your head on his shoulder. Multiple possibilities buzz through your mind, what sort of surprise is he going to spring on you?

“It better not be,” I mutter.

The dusk gets deeper as the sun slowly slips further below the horizon. The edges of the park have become more blurred to you, no longer easily identifiable block shapes. Although, something catches your eye, two small figures scurrying along the tree line and moving along the grass. You hold out your hand in their direction.

“Look, Tommy, what’s that?”

He squeezes your waist, “I think that’s your surprise arriving.”

He positively beams as he watches the figures fumbling about with, what look like, two black bags. They empty the contents onto the grass surrounding them, fixing one of them to a stump in front of them. They back away quickly, retreating all the way back to the treeline.

“Tommy, what’s happening? Who are those people?”

A small bubble of anxiety brews in your stomach. There is a reason you don’t like surprises. You didn’t know there would be other people involved.

“Just wait, darling,” Tom says, excitement flooding into his voice.

“Tommy,” you start, the bubble growing slightly bigger.

Sparks of gold shoot straight up into the pink tinged sky, a faint whizzing noise following them upwards. Above you they erupt into explosions of blue, green and red, consuming the sky, overlapping and intermingling with each other. You can feel the force of them vibrating your body, the bangs ringing in your ears for seconds afterwards.

A second set of smaller fireworks are sent up next, hard to pick out against the rapidly darkening background. They travel upwards, wiggling gently from side to side, leaving a faint trail of smoke behind them. They don’t explode as aggressively as the first ones, instead they tumble from the sky like a scarlet waterfall. Iridescent sparks showering down on the grass.

Catherine wheels follow them, swirling round and round in a loose circle. They fizz like a can of soda ready to be popped. More fireworks jet into air and scatter their light across the night sky, lighting up the faces of the two people setting them off, Harrison and Nikki. They light up Tom’s features as well, his chestnut eyes reflecting the light and almost glowing.

You sigh deeply, feeling more content than you could have ever imagined, all anxiety fizzling away.

Tom leans into you, his lips gently brushing against your cheek. He rests them there for a moment before pulling away an inch and whispering, his breath tickling your skin, “are you happy, Y/N?”

You shift your gaze momentarily from the colours that dance across the night sky to your boyfriend, “I’m always happy when I’m with you, Tom.”

His eyes soften as his face is taken over by his grin. He leans in and his lips find yours, pushing just firm enough to force you to part them. Your bottom lip rolls over his and you relish this moment. He pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I love you, Y/N, so much.”

Without missing a beat, you reply, “well, I’m in love with you.”

His body shakes mildly, “hey, I thought you said this wasn’t a competition.”

“It’s not,” you protest.

Leaning forward again, you rest your head against his, desperate for the physical contact.

He pecks the tip of your nose.

“You know, darling, if you keep looking at me, you’re going to miss the fireworks.”