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bensbuttercup · 5 years

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A Little Too Much (S.M.)

Summary: Sometimes the world can get to be a little too much for Emerson to handle and her fiancé Shawn helps to keep her grounded.

Word Count: 8,229

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, spanking.

Authors note: This is an imagine that’s a little bit personal to me and I worked really hard on it so I hope that you all like it as much as I do.

And a big thank you to Claire @the-claire-bitch-project for helping me find the drive to finish this and beta reading for me. You should all go check out part three to her fic “King Of My Heart” that she just posted!

Emerson stood in the elevator watching the floor counter continue to rise, a pair of black suede heels, one broken and one still intact, was held in her left hand. In her right hand was her lunch box that had her spoiled salad inside, she hadn’t had time to each lunch between meetings and she felt her stomach growling, begging to be fed. After waking up to the fire alarm going off at 4:30 that morning while it was raining Emerson should have known it was going to be a long day. She had even considered calling in sick to her internship but had loved every day so far, up until this point.

When the elevator doors opened Emerson stepped out into the penthouse level apartment she shared with her fiancé. However, her hopes of settling down with Shawn for a movie and take out were crushed when she heard an acoustic guitar accompanied by his voice floating into the foyer from his in-house studio. On ‘creative’ days Shawn usually didn’t want to be bothered for hours on end, it wasn’t uncommon for Emerson to both wake up alone and fall asleep alone on those days. Knowing she most likely wouldn’t be getting comfort from her fiancé all Emerson could manage to do without crying was drop her broken heels and lunch box on the floor near the door and go about her daily routine.

Ignoring the tears she felt pricking behind her eyes Emerson reached down to slip the black running sneakers she had gotten stuck wearing a majority of the day off. On her way to her second meeting of the day, set to start at 9:30 sharp, Emerson’s heel had gotten stuck in a crack in the floor, causing it to break away from the bottom of her shoe. By the time she registered what had actually happened she tired break her fall with her hands, a nail breaking in the process. Luckily, she had a pair of running shoes in the car she ran out to slip on before making it to the meeting at 9:29 with a frazzled, tired smile.

Since finishing her junior year of college nearly a month earlier Emerson had been interning at a Tax Attorney’s office in Toronto that offered her a full paying job after she graduated the next year. Her LSAT scores were near perfect and the company that she would be spending the summer interning with also offered to pay for her Law School tuition, that was if she could prove herself over the summer. So far she had been one of the hardest working and most intelligent interns the office had seen in years, but everyone had their off days.

Not having the energy to greet Shawn with a loud and playful ‘honey I’m home!’ like she usually did, Emerson simply shrugged her leather Calvin Klein blazer off, hoping that he had turned the coffee on before she got home. She felt a migraine starting to simmer behind her eyes, the mix of stress and lack of protein in her system setting the genetic curse off. She knew that her hair, which was glazed two days earlier, was a frizzy, knotted mess on top of her head but couldn’t be bothered to walk all the way to the bathroom for a brush. Walking into the kitchen she ran her fingers through her hair with one hand while untucking her button down with the other.

She watched as the white fabric with small black polka dots slipped out of the skirt she couldn’t wait to get off and settled in a wrinkled mess over the garment. She considered making her way upstairs to the bedroom she shared with Shawn to change but decided against it when she smelled fresh brewed coffee, the bitterness comforting her when she got the first whiff.

After seeing a half-full pot of coffee under the machine on the counter, Emerson felt her body relax slightly, a small weight being taken off her shoulders. She reached up into the cherry wood cabinets, the ones Shawn had specially made when they were apartment shopping, to pull down a light blue YETI cup and the sugar. After carefully taking the top off the sugar container, Emerson decided that she was too tired to walk across the kitchen to retrieve a spoon and opted to instead sprinkle a little bit of it into the cup.

Watching the white crystals settle in the bottom of the cup Emerson felt herself begin to comfortably settle into the routine of making a cup of coffee, pouring in half and half and a splash of vanilla creamer into the cup also before putting them away in the fridge again. Watching the door to the refrigerator close reminded her that she should eat something so her migraine wouldn’t follow her into the next morning.

Picking up the pot of coffee, Emerson went to pour it into her cup when the inevitable happened. The top cover on the coffee pot came off sending hot coffee rushing out of the glass pot all over the top of her right hand and then on to the counter. “FUCK!” In a moment of rational thought she slipped the pot back into its place before turning the sink on cold and sticking her hand under the rush of cooling water.

Resting her forehead on the counter Emerson finally felt the tears she had been holding in since 4:30 that morning bubble over, freely flowing down her face, but she didn’t care.

Emerson didn’t know how long she let the water run over her hand before she felt someone behind her. “Oh Bunny,” she heard Shawn sigh from behind her, his hand on the small of her back and the nickname he had adopted for her bringing her a small sense of comfort. She considered letting herself settle into her fiancé‘s touch when she remembered that five minutes earlier he had been working on a new song. Great. Now she’d ruined his ‘creative flow’ and would probably be yelled at. “What happened?”

Emerson sniffled and stood up straight, turning the water off before trying to shake her hand dry, “nothing.” She knew Shawn wouldn’t buy it, but usually a simple ‘nothing’ would get him off her back for the time being. It had been a trick she learned within their first couple months of dating, a simple ‘nothing’ could get her a couple of hours to herself when she needed them.

“C’mon Em, you don’t cry over nothing,” Shawn decided to push the issue, not liking to see his fiancée obviously distressed. Shawn also knew that Emerson absolutely hated crying, she always had. He learned early on in their relationship that she had been taught that crying was a form of weakness, a plea for usually unwarranted attention. Whenever she cried when she was younger Emerson would have been scolded for it, so she taught herself how to turn the body function off, and it never fully turned itself back on.

Shawn decided that he needed to press the issue, something inside of him sensed that Emerson didn’t need time to herself. Shawn knew that she needed him, “what happened?” Emerson finally turned around to see Shawn’s soft whiskey eyes that were searching her face with concern.

Wiping the back of her unburned hand over her eyes Emerson sniffled once more before looking up at Shawn, “W-work sucked,” she hiccuped, “and I just burned myself, and I didn’t get sleep last night, and-” she was cut off by Shawn pulling her into his arms.

Allowing herself to settle into the warm embrace of her fiancé’s large arms Emerson felt at home for the time being, wrapped up in Shawn’s love and affection. Allowing the cracks in her emotional dam to finally break, a broken sob fell past Emerson’s lips when Shawn gave her an extra tight squeeze.

As she felt Shawn start rocking her back a forth he also started to humm a song she didn’t recognize into her messy hair. Feeling the vibrations from Shawn’s humming against her cheek that rested on his chest, Emerson didn’t hold any of her tears back. For the first time in months she let herself cry in Shawn’s arms, receiving the same treatment she often gave him when the weight of his career and the fear of letting his family and fans down sometimes got too much.

Emerson wasn't sure how long they stood in the middle of the kitchen, before Shawn carefully maneuvered them towards the center island, leaning back against marble countertop. With each movement Shawn made sure that his grip on his fianceé never loosened, that she stayed held close to his chest. As she listened to Shawn continue to hum the melody to what she assumed would be turned into a new song, Emerson started to follow his breathing, willing her body and mind to relax and find its way back to earth.

Finally, she felt her hiccups and sniffles subside and she heard Shawn slowly start to let his humming die off, her breathing regulating itself again and her breathing coming back down to a normal rhythm. Once Emerson felt as if she had her feet on solid ground a dull pain began to radiate from her hand, she knew she would have to be sure the skin didn’t blister later on from the burn.

Shawn gently pulled Emerson away from his body so he could properly see her face, so he could at least try and read her current emotional state and decide how he could help from there. She knew that her face was covered in streaky mascara and tear tracks, her nose also starting to run, but she didn’t care. Shawn has proposed to Emerson and in six month would be promising to spend the rest of his life with her, through the good and the bad.

It had taken her almost three years to understand that Shawn didn’t judge her, through the good, the bad and the ugly, he never judged. He would stand by her side regardless of how messy her makeup was, how ratty her hair was or how mentally exhausted she was. Shawn was safe, Shawn was home.

“Now let me see your hand.” It was the first full sentence he had spoken to her since she left for work at 6:45 that morning. Holding her right hand out to Shawn, Emerson realized that it was just red. She realized that she had probably gotten it under the cold water fast enough that it wouldn’t blister, the skin would just be sensitive for a couple of days. With that realization a tiny smile graced her face. “Not too bad,” Shawn gently brushed his thumb over the sensitive skin causing Emerson to pull back slightly, “do you want to talk over a warm shower? Just you and me, maybe some music?”

“But your mu-”

Shawn held a finger up to her lips momentarily and Emerson poked her tongue out to barely lick Shawn’s finger. He pulled his hand away while his nose scrunched up in the adorable way she always loved to watch. The skin wrinkling just slightly to create a look that mixed amusement and disgust.

“My music can come later,” he leaned into her to kiss her forehead. “Right now your health and happiness is more important and I’m asking if you’d like that.” Emerson let the idea marinate in her mind for a few seconds considering if letting Shawn brush off his music for her was really a good idea. She knew that Shawn had almost an entire album written already, his number of ‘creative days’ had exponentially increased in the past weeks and she had been seeing less and less of her incredibly driven and dedicated fiancé. “Don’t overthink it Bunny, a simple yes or no.”

Instead of a ‘yes’, she nodded in response to his offer. A large smile grew on Shawn’s face and he held out his hand for Emerson to take, feeling his warm palm clasp around hers allowed for more tension to make its way out of her body.

Shawn held Emerson’s hand tightly in his while he made his way towards the stairs that would take them to the second level of the apartment where their master bedroom and bathroom was. When they had been apartment shopping nearly a year earlier Shawn insisted that their future home had plenty of space for both of them, as well as enough room to host family and friends when needed.

Shawn opened the door to their shared bedroom and looked behind him with a soft smile “Do you want to go start the shower while I go get towels and clothes for both of us?” He kissed Emerson’s forehead after he asked the question. “What do you want me to get you?” Emerson let out a quiet hum while she thought, sniffling the rest of her tears away.

“One of your long sleeves, boyshorts and a sports bra,” she paused for a moment, “please?” Contrary to popular belief Emerson found a sports bra and a comfy long sleeve shirt to be the best lazy day outfit. She had learned at an early age that big boobs were both a blessing and a curse, she often found it uncomfortable to go without any support.

over to the master bathroom Emerson only turned on one set off lights, dimly illuminating the room so it wouldn’t make her simmering migraine worse.

“Shawn doesn’t like it as hot as I do,” she mumbled to herself as she turned the knob on the shower to slightly cooler than she usually would. She watched both of the shower heads started spitting out water, the addition was something else Shawn had indulged in when they were purchasing the apartment.

She stuck her hand under the spray of water feeling it begin to get warmer, steam starting to flow over the top of the glass door. Emerson didn’t hear the bathroom door open again and was slightly startled when she felt a pair of arms circle around her waist.

“You’re still dressed?” Shawn mumbled, leaving a gentle kiss under her ear.

Emerson glanced down to her wrinkled button down and skirt with a shrug, “I kind of just forgot.” She was somehow too tired to remember to get undressed and if it wasn’t for Shawn probably would have stepped into the shower still dressed.

As she went to reach behind herself she felt Shawn’s hands stop her. “I’ll get this, you just work on your shirt.” He started to hum the same song from earlier again. Emerson tried to focus more on the melody this time while she undid the top two buttons on her shirt before pulling it over her head. She felt Shawn’s fingers fumbling to undo the metal clasp on the top of her shirt and went to reach behind herself to get it when Shawn gently pushed her hand away again.

“I can get it,” he already had the zipper down but needed to get the metal clasp open so that Emerson could shimmy out of the uncomfortable material. Once the clasp had been popped Shawn carefully pulled at the bottom of the skirt until it could slide down her legs the rest of the way on its own. Watching as the fabric pooled at her ankles Emerson felt Shawn’s fingers hook into the waistband of her lace cheekies and pull them down her legs. As she stepped out of her underwear she reached behind her to unclasp her bra and let it slide down her arms to fall on top of her crumpled shirt.

She turned around to see Shawn pushing his boxers and baseball shorts down his legs, kicking them into the same pile as Emerson’s suit. “Is it warm enough?” He asked, reaching his hand into the shower to feel the water temperature.

“It’s what I usually put it on when we shower together,” Emerson mumbled as she carefully stepped under the warm spray of the double shower heads. She watched as Shawn tested the water with his own hand before deciding it wasn’t too hot for him to enter.

Shawn ran a hand through his wet hair while Emerson did the same, allowing themselves to wash some tension out of their bodies with the warm water. Shawn from writing music for nearly the past month straight with no breaks, and Emerson from her awful day at work mixed with the past month’s pent of emotions. “Shawn?”

Even though Emerson didn’t revive a verbal response from Shawn she knew that he listened as she asked her question. “Can you wash my hair?” She always loved when Shawn washed his hair, his nimble fingers were often able to massage her migraines away.

“Just give me your shampoo, Bunny,” Shawn held his hand out for the bottle. Emerson hesitated, her hand hovering between her bottle of shampoo and Shawn’s. She wrapped her fingers around his bottle before placing it in his waiting hand. “This isn’t-”

“I know,” she turned around and squinted through the water, “it’s yours.” Shawn didn’t think much more of it as he squeezed a dollop into his right hand before placing the bottle down, rubbing his hands together to create sudds. It was quiet for a few minutes as Shawn worked the shampoo into her scalp, his front pressed against her back as he did so.

Shawn knew that when Emerson got overwhelmed she often liked to be close to him, it helped to keep her grounded and in touch with her surroundings.

“Y’know,” Emerson’s eyes were closer as Shawn worked the shampoo into the bottom portion of her hair. “When you’re on tour and I miss you a little extra,” her nose wrinkled slightly when Shawn’s fingers got stuck on a knot in her hair, “I’ll go to the store and buy a bottle of your shampoo or body wash, then use it for a couple days.”

Shawn felt his heart clench at the confession and dropped his forehead to rest on Emerson’s shoulder. “Kinda how I make my stylist buy a bottle of your perfume?” He only received a small nod from Emerson but knew that it held meaning. “Tip back so I can rinse your hair.”

Doing as Shawn asked she tipped her head back, his fingers running from her scalp down to the ends of her hair. He carefully worked the shampoo out of her hair until the water running out of the ends was clear of suds. “Your turn,” Emerson spoke quietly, reaching out to pick up the bottle of shampoo again. Shawn was only slightly taller than she was, so once the shampoo in her hands had been turned to suds all she had to do was reach up and start working it into her fiancée’s roots.

“Do you want to talk about today?” Shawn asked the question while Emerson’s fingers were massaging the shampoo into his scalp.

Her fingers paused for a moment before continuing their previous motions, “I knew as soon as that fire alarm went off that I should have just called into the office sick.” It was a confession she had been waiting to make since she walked through the apartment door nearly an hour earlier.

“You went to the office right?” Shawn asked and revived a small hum in affirmation. “And you made it through the day?”

“Barely so-”

Shawn held a hand up, “but you made it through the day.” He squeezed body wash into Emerson’s hands and she started to lather herself up. “Now you’re home,” he closed the bottle and set it back in its place, “and we can focus on making you feel better.” It again fell silent while Emerson watched the suds from the body wash slip off her body and down the drain, mixing with the suds from Shawn’s body also.

After a couple minutes the water running down the drain was mostly clear and a tattooed hand reached past Emerson to turn the shower off. He ran his fingers through his soaked hair, trying to get some of the water out while he pushed open the glass door to the shower.

“Bunny,” Emerson’s head looked up from the ground and over to where Shawn was holding open a fluffy bath sheet for her. Carefully stepping over the small lip on the shower floor and on to the heated tiles, those had come with the apartment, they weren’t a ‘Shawn Investment’ like many other features.

“I think you were so brave today,” Shawn kissed Emerson’s forehead while he wrapped the bath sheet around her, tucking it in on itself so it would stay wrapped around her body. He took a smaller towel and lifted her wet hair up, wrapping the towel around her shoulders before carefully setting her hair back down into place. “Want me to dry your hair, Bunny?”

Emerson nodded but Shawn responded with a quiet ‘tsk’, signaling that he wasn’t happy with her response. “Words please?” It came across as more of a question than a demand.

Emerson walked over to the vanity and sat in the chair that was in front of it, “yes please,” she sighed as she let her eyes slip closed. It had been a long day and she had been pushed to both her physical and mental limits, wanting time to unwind. The next morning it would be Saturday and she would be able to sleep as late as she wanted, wrapped up in Shawn’s arms.

She listened as Shawn padded around the bathroom, gathering what he needed to dry Emerson’s hair. “You still use that weird pink spray?” It sounded like the question came from the other side of the bathroom where the hair care products were kept.

“The heat protector, yes,” Emerson wasn’t sure how loud she was answering the question, but she hoped that Shawn heard her. Suddenly she jumped when she heard a cap being popped off of a bottle right behind her. When did Shawn get back across the bathroom? “I usually do ten sprays.”

Her eyes remained closed while Shawn sprayed the heat protector and quick dry into her golden brown hair, “do you want me to dry it all the way?” Emerson went to shake her head ‘no’ when she remembered that Shawn wanted words.

Still with a shake of ‘no’ Emerson found the energy to speak the words, “no thank you,” followed by a pause. “Only half-way,” she heard Shawn plug the hair dryer into the outlet on the vanity.

She opened her eyes when she felt a brush running through her hair, being met with Shawn’s warm smile, “just getting any leftover knots out.” Letting her eyes slip closed again Emerson nodded. A few seconds later she heard the blow dryer whir to life and felt the warm air on the skin of her neck, causing her to shiver.

Shawn started combing his fingers through Emerson’s hair, his fingers easily slipping through the damp strands thanks to the conditioner. As her hair started to dry a few fly-away strands blew in front of her face, tickling her nose. She reached her hands up to brush away the strands and Shawn turned the blow dryer off and set it down on the vanity, his large hands brushing her hair away from her face. “Do you want me to braid it?”

Emerson shook her head no before remembering that Shawn wanted a verbal answer, “no thank you,” she mumbled. Shawn picked up the brush once more and ran it through her mostly dry hair, the soft strands falling back into place. “Maybe later though.”

Emerson wanted to ask Shawn something else, for something else, but wasn’t sure if he would be turned off by the request. It had been something they’d done in the past, quite often actually, but a voice inside her head held her back from asking for it.

Realizing that overthinking had caused her emotions to build up once again Emerson found herself harshly rubbing her fists into her eyes to stop herself from crying. “Bunny,” Shawn gently grabbed her wrists, pulling them away from her face. “Is there something I’m missing?” He asked the question in a soft voice, easing Emerson into to opening up to him.

“M’just overwhelmed,” she sniffled, Shawn noticed that tears were welling up in the corners of her eyes yet again and reached out to brush them away. “And I-” she never finished her though, choosing to lean into Shawn’s touch instead.

He brushed his thumb over Emerson’s cheekbone and let out a long sigh, “You know you can ask me for anything, Bunny. Especially when it will help you feel better.” Shawn finished his sentence with a kiss on the tip of her nose. Emerson took a deep breath and closed her eyes, she had asked Shawn this at least a dozen times before. Why was it so hard now?

Emerson and Shawn’s relationship had always been a physical one, snuggling, sex, even just small, subtle touches when they were out in public to help keep the other grounded. This physical intimacy seemed to help make up for Emerson’s lack of words, her struggle with sharing her feelings. About nine months into their relationship Shawn had been scrolling through social media when he looked up he raised an eyebrow causing Emerson to grow concerned.

“What?” She asked slightly concerned for what Shawn had planned. Setting his phone down Shawn took in a deep breath before he spoke, “you ever heard of umm-” his words died off.

Emerson scooted closer to her boyfriend and rested a hand on his thigh that tensed under her touch, “have I ever heard of what? What’s happening? Are you okay?” Her immediate reaction was that her boyfriend- or someone close to him- had fallen ill.

“Therapy spanking.” Emerson watched as his cheeks heated up after he spoke. “Have you ever heard of therapy spanking?” He let out a shaky breath, nervously running a hand through his hair.

“I-” Emerson couldn’t find the words she wanted to say, “no?” It came across as a question. Shawn took another long breath and pulled Emerson so she was sitting in his lap, her knees resting on either side of his thighs.

“I’ve been researching it actually,” he laughed nervously. “I know you’ve been having a hard time with expressing things, and that’s perfectly okay!” He didn’t want Emerson to feel hurt by his declaration, but she rarely opened up to him about what was going on in her life or how she was feeling. “But you hate crying, and you need to get you-”

“Shawn I’m fine,” she cut him off.

“As I was saying,” he wasn’t going to give Emerson any room to argue with him. They were going to have a conversation like adults, not two teenagers. “You have a hard time with emotions and need to get them out somehow and I’ve done a ton of research on therapy spanking.”

Emerson looked up at her boyfriend through her glasses, confusion filling her gaze. “I’m not a little kid Shawn, you’re not a parent punishing me. Besides,” she sighed, “I was never umm, spanked as a child either.”

Shawn carefully thought his response over before speaking, “It’s not a punishment,” he felt like spitting the words out, “it’s emotional release, to help you feel better and clear your head.”

Emerson pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, “fine,” she huffed. “I’ll try once, and if I don’t like it we’re never bringing it up again.” She crossed her arms which caused Shawn to laugh.

“Okay, once,” Shawn nodded, resting his large hands on either of Emerson’s thighs. “And if you don’t like it we’re never doing it again.” He sealed his promise with a gentle peck on her lips.

Finding herself back in the bathroom she now shared with Shawn, in their apartment, Emerson blinked at herself in the mirror. She needed to feel grounded, she needed to get rid of the self doubt and angst the bad day had caused. “Shawn?” She turned around and looked up at Shawn from where she sat on the plush vanity chair.

“Yes?” He asked quietly.

Emerson took in a long breath before looking up into Shawn’s warm whiskey eyes again. “Can you please- can you please,” she struggled to find the words she wanted, “can you please spank me?” She closed her eyes again after asking the question.

“Emerson,” Shawn used her full first name, “I need you to look at me, please?” He continued to brush his thumb over her cheek bone. When her eyes opened they were still swimming with unshed tears, tears that Shawn knew would be falling in a few minutes. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes. This is what I want,” Emerson nodded and Shawn pulled his hand away from her cheek, falling to his side. A few seconds later he held the same hand out for her to take. Slowly she did as was requested and took Shawn’s hand, his larger palm encasing hers with warmth. “Can we go to the bedroom please?” She asked standing up.

Shawn lifted her hand up and kissed the back of it, “that was the plan.” He started to gently guide her towards their bedroom and sat on the edge of the mattress so that his feet were flat on the floor. Emerson sat down next to him, her knee nervously bouncing up and down like it usually would in these situations.

“Do you want to talk about your day before or after?” The question Shawn asked usually started off every session. Sometimes Emerson would like to talk about her day beforehand, but she usually asked to talk about it after, wanting to release some of the emotion beforehand.

“After,” she paused, “please?” She watched as Shawn prepared himself for the activity they were about to engage in. He stood up and reached down into the small mini fridge next to the bed, pushing past the bottles of water to find the aloe vera cooling lotion he liked to keep refrigerated. He would usually take the lotion out to cool before their sessions started so it wasn’t too cold when he applied the lotion to Emerson’s heated skin after the fact.

Sitting back on the mattress Shawn looked at Emerson and drew in a long breath, “How would you like me to spank you, or how would you be most comfortable?” Shawn liked to keep her as comfortable as possible throughout the entire process, it tended to be his priority.

Emerson fiddled with the hem of her shirt and carefully thought over her options, “over your lap?” She asked quietly, not yet looking up. She watched her leg bounce up and down for a few seconds before Shawn opened his arms up for her. Without words she turned and crawled into her fiancé’s lap, her knees settling on either side of his thighs, her head falling to his shoulder.

Shawn wrapped his arms tightly around Emerson’s waist, his large hand slipping under his long sleeve shirt that she had slipped into. She tried to calm her heartbeat by listening to Shawn’s the steady thumping could be felt from where her hand rested on his chest, she often joked and called his heartbeat the ‘bass drum to her life’, but it was true. Shawn helped keep her grounded. Shawn was home.

No words were exchanged between the pair until Emerson moved her hand from Shawn’s chest and lifted her head up, looking into his eyes. “You ready now?” He brushed a strand of dry hair from in front of her eyes, he would french braid it after.

“Yes,” Emerson nodded, moving from Shawn’s lap so she was again sitting next to him. Shawn took in a long breath, grounding himself before he started telling Emerson what to do. The process was both emotionally taxing and relieving for Shawn and Emerson. While their therapy spanking sessions often helped to rid them of pent up emotion that words couldn’t always express, they were both usually exhausted after the fact.

Shawn rubbed his sweaty palms over the basketball shorts he had on while he tried to make sure his voice would be firm when he spoke. “Can you stand up, Bunny?” He asked Emerson with a slight smile, he wanted to make sure that he didn’t rub her the wrong way. Their sessions were delicate processes and one misstep could send someone into an overdrive of negative emotions.

Nodding Emerson rose to her feet, still looking down at the ground, her hands tugging on the hem of her shirt. Shawn reached out and took her hands in his, pulling her close enough to kiss the back of each. “Remember that I love you?” He was trying to assure Emerson that she was safe in his hands and had nothing to worry about. She could let herself go completely if she needed to.

“I love you too, Shawn.” She responded looking up to meet his eyes again. Shawn took that as the piece of consent he needed to move forward more, but he would still be checking in multiple times before they actually started their session.

Gently, Shawn started to move up the hem of his shirt that Emerson wore. He bunched it between his hands right above the waistband of the white boyshorts she currently had on. He leaned in and pressed a gentle line of kisses along the skin that was now exposed to him.

Shivering under Shawn’s touch Emerson moved her hands to rest on his shoulders while he moved his left hand to the waistband of her panties. “On or off?” To Shawn this question couldn’t be overlooked, ever. He knew that in a couple of minutes Emerson would be put in an incredibly vulnerable position, and the level of trust she chose to put into his hands, ultimately, rested in hers.

Emerson rocked on the balls of her feet while Shawn’s thumb rubbed gentle circles into the skin that covered her hip bone, thinking. After a few moments she moved a hand from Shawn’s shoulder to cover his, “off?”

“It’s not up to me, Bunny. That sounded awfully like a question not an answer.” He wanted Emerson to be sure of her decision and would wait all night for a confident answer if he had to.

“Off.” She looked up into his eyes this time, “please?” Shawn leaned in to place one more kiss right under her belly button before he dropped the hem of her shirt, both of his hands hooking into her waist band.

Taking in a deep breath he slowly started to pull the fabric down her legs, letting it pool at her feet once they were able to slide down the rest of the way on their own. “Ready?” Shawn moved a hand to rest on Emerson’s back right above the curve of her ass.

Emerson nodded before mumbling a small ‘yes’. Shawn shifted so that he sat a little bit further up on the bed, making sure that both he and Emerson would have enough room to be comfortable throughout the process.

After getting the verbal confirmation he needed from Emerson, Shawn gentully guided her over his thighs with his hand that rested on her back and the other, resting between her shoulders. He let Emerson adjust herself so that she was comfortable, his hand rubbing gentle circles into the small of her back while she shifted. With his other hand Shawn reached behind him to grab a pillow for her to rest her head, settling it next to his left thigh.

Once Emerson had stilled, her hands folded and her chin resting on them, she looked up at Shawn with teary blue eyes. “I’m okay, Rockstar,” she assured him with a gentle smile, her eyes slipping closed after. “Remember that I love you,” she added.

Shawn’s eyes trailed down Emerson’s body to where his shirt covered the top of her ass, “I love you too,” he let out a shaky breath. Moving both of his hands down to the hem of the shirt he carefully folded the pink material up to her mid back, giving him plenty of room to work. “Just relax for me.”

Shawn carefully lifted his right leg and moved it over Emerson’s calves, she always tended to squirm and it helped to keep her still. Next he took his left hand and secured it around her waist, his hand curling around her side and his thumb starting to rub soothing circles into her skin. He was just as nervous as Emerson, but he loved her and would do anything she needed him to.

Shawn carefully slid his right hand down Emerson’s back it coming to a rest on her left asscheek, his fingers gently kneading into the skin there. He watched his fingers sink slightly into her flesh, his eyes moving to the stretchmarks that also spanned over her skin. He remembered when she had been incredibly insure about them, one night he walked into the bathroom while she was applying cocoa butter to the stretchmarks, trying to make them lighter. From that day forward

Shawn and Emerson had spent time trying to make each other love their bodies, teaching each other that their imperfections made them both more attractive, more human.

Shawn continued to knead Emerson’s skin for a few minutes, getting the blood flowing before he started spanking her usually made it less painful and made the redness and any bruising disappear faster. “Bunny?” He quietly asked. Emerson turned her head and cracked an eye open. “You ready?”

She reached a hand up to fake salute Shawn, “yer, sir!” She offered a smile. Shawn laughed, glad that Emerson chose that moment to try and lighten the mood slightly. With the confirmation, Shawn removed his hand from Emerson’s skin, slightly red from the minutes of kneading he had just done. Shawn took a deep breath before letting his hand fall, a small smack filling the room as his hand made contact with Emerson’s right ass cheek. He watched as her fingers tightened their grip on the pillowcase, her eyes squeezing shut tighter.

“You okay, Bunny?” He asked quietly, he knew he wasn’t hurting Emerson, providing comfort that she needed in the moment. Emerson nodded and cracked an eye open, giving Shawn a slightly more relaxed smile.

Squeezing her hand into the pillow under her head Emerson braced herself for the next spank when she felt Shawn’s large hand stop kneading her skin again.

Feeling Shawn’s large hand cover almost her entire ass straight across the middle with the next spank Emerson felt a few tears slip out of the corners of her eyes. Feeling Shawn’s hand lift off her skin once more the next five spanks came one after the other, she knew Shawn was settling into his normal rhythm.

A common question they had gotten asked once they brought the concept up among their ‘couple friends’, was if they also used spanking in the ‘kinkier’ aspects of the bedroom. The first time Brian had asked Shawn the question they had both had a little too much alcohol and Shawn’s face turned bright red with laughter.

“C’mon man,” he said after regaining his composure, the conversation dying off after the comment. Of course they also used spanking in more sexual aspects of their relationship but sometimes the benefits of the emotional release it could provide were overlooked.

Feeling her skin start to heat up more, Emerson pulled her bottom lip between her teeth trying to keep the few whimpers she let out quiet. Noticing her behavior, Shawn paused his movements and gently pulled her bottom lip from between her teeth with his thumb and pointer finger, “we both know that holding back won’t do you any good, eh?” He watched Emerson’s eyes that were now swimming with tears openly.

“Right,” she quietly responded before letting her eyes close again. Shawn carefully kneaded her skin again while he waited for her body to relax again, the muscles in her thighs too tense for Shawn’s liking. He slipped his hand down from her ass to the back of her left thigh and squeezed it gently, signaling that she should relax her body before he continued.

They often didn’t use many words during their sessions. After doing it for a couple years they were both able to read each other’s bodies well enough that words weren’t constantly needed, the verbal communication decreasing over time. Now their signals to each other were mostly physical, Shawn’s gentle massages between sets of spanks often helped Emerson to relax and allowed her to release her emotions in incriminates rather than all at once.

“I’m gonna start again.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement from Shawn after Emerson’s muscles had relaxed under his gentle touches.

Again fisting the pillow case in her hands, Emerson braced herself for the next set of spanks, waiting to hear the noise of skin hitting skin fill the room again. A surprised gasp fell past Emerson’s lips when Shawn’s hand fell on the top of her right thigh, just under the curve of her ass. It was a particularly sensitive spot for her and wound usually give the most reaction when Shawn spanked the area. After another sharp smack to the top of her left thigh Emerson couldn’t hold her tears back any longer.

A steady stream began to flow out the corners of her eyes, the tears running down her cheeks and on to the pillow under her head. However, Shawn’s ministrations didn’t stop but picked up with force, his speed staying steady but the spanks becoming harder.

Emerson lost count of how many times his hand had come down on her ass and the tops of her thighs somewhere around thirty, her tears still steadily flowing and small whimpers and hiccups flowing past her lips.

Her head started to feel slightly fuzzy but she heard Shawn’s praise as he continued to let his hand fall onto her skin with sharp smacks, “such a good girl for me,” she remembered hearing.

“You’re doing amazing, Bunny. Let it all out, don’t be afraid to cry, not with me.” The steady stream of praises that he was spewing weren’t uncommon but to Emerson they sounded more frequent, filled with more emotion.

Somewhere between Shawn telling her it was okay to cry and a stream of sharp smacks falling down straight across her ass cheeks she felt Shawn’s other arm unwrap itself from around her waist. His hand moved to cup her cheek, brushing along her cheekbones while the speed of his spanks started to slow.

Emerson felt like she wasn’t completely present in the moment, the spanking no longer stung but instead felt like a comforting weight whenever Shawn’s hand came down. The words he spoke didn’t completely make it past her ears that felt as if they were filled with cotton and her head felt slightly fuzzy.

“You did amazing,” Shawn mumbled after he let the last smack fall right across her ass, covering almost the entire thing. “So amazing,” he spoke a little louder watching the tears still freely flow from Emerson’s closed eyes. He let his eyes trail down to her butt that was now an angry shade of red, a few small bruises starting to bloom on the skin.

Being careful not to move her around too much, Shawn moved Emerson so her head was in his lap, his thumb still rubbing soothing circles into her cheekbone, his other hand carefully massaging her bright red skin. “Bunny,” Shawn mumbled, wanting Emerson to open her eyes for him. “Can you open your eyes?” He hoped that asking her would get the reaction he wanted, “I miss seeing them, so pretty and blue,” he spoke in a quiet sing song voice.

Watching as her eyelids fluttered open, a wide smile spread across Shawn’s face. “How are you?” He hummed as Emerson lethargically blinked, her eyelids looking as if they weighed a thousand pounds each. Emerson mumbled something that Shawn wasn’t quite able to make out but he nodded anyway, his hand moving from her cheek to her hair. His fingers combed through the freshly washed strands as he looked behind him for the aloe vera lotion.

“That was fifty-four,” Shawn laughed lightly, “you gotta tell me how you’re feeling though.” Shawn always liked to be sure that Emerson was okay after each of their sessions, wanting her to be as comfortable as possible.

She opened both of her eyes again and looked up at Shawn, “m’good! She gave him a thumbs up with a small smile. Shawn sighed and shook his head, glad to have a piece of his usually playful fiancée back for the time being, even though she still had tears flowing out of her eyes. “Hurts though,” she wiggled her hips a little bit.

“Well duh,” Shawn reached behind him to grab the bottle of lotion, “it’s bruising already.” He watched Emerson try and look behind herself to see her ass but she quickly gave up after realizing she would have to sit-up stretch more to see it, trusting Shawn’s words instead. “Can I put lotion on?”

“Yes please,” Emerson’s tears were starting to slow, her head starting to feel a little clearer. She was able to clearly hear everything Shawn was saying and her skin started to sting more rather than just feel warm. She listened to Shawn unscrew the top of the lotion bottle before he squeezed a line across the top of her ass, the cool substance making her face scrunch up in a bit of discomfort.

Shawn’s large hands both started to rub the green tinted lotion into her skin, being careful not to apply too much pressure where he noticed that bruises were starting to bloom. “You want to talk about your day yet?” Both knew they would have to address the bad day at some point, and they had reached the point in the session when it usually would be discussed.

“I woke up cranky,” Emerson closed her eyes again, flinching when Shawn’s hands ran over sore spots on her ass. “The fire alarm going off that early sucked, and I didn’t get back to sleep.” Emerson had tossed and turned trying to get back to sleep until her alarm for work went off.

Shawn squeezed a little more lotion on to her skin, “I told you that you could have called in sick and we could have snuggled all day.”

Emerson sighed, “well I didn’t. Ow,” she mumbled when Shawn pressed too hard into a sore spot on the top of her right thigh. “And then I got to work and my heel broke and I fell and a nail broke and it just sucked,” she rushed the words out all at once trying to avoid crying again.

“You could have called me on your lunch break-”

“I didn’t have time for lunch,” Emerson cut Shawn off, “we were in and out of meetings all day.” He noticed how exhausted she looked, she had bags under her eyes and she seemed to barely be able to stay awake after their session. “And I just wanted to come home and snuggle but you were writing and I spilled coffee on myself and today sucked.” She repeated the word but couldn’t think of much more to describe how shitty her day had been.

Shawn finished rubbing the last of the lotion into her skin and lifted Emerson up so he could lie down. He carefully settled her head on his chest and kissed her temple, “now we can snuggle, and in a little while we can get up and order dinner because I know your head is going to be killing you soon.”

Shawn over the years Shawn was able to get to know Emerson’s body almost as well as she did, and he knew when she didn’t eat enough she often got migraines that Motrin couldn’t fix. Emerson turned her head to look up at Shawn, “that Greek place downtown?” She had been hungry since early that afternoon and now that Shawn had mentioned food her stomach had seemed to grow even more empty.

“Yes,” Shawn laughed, “I’ll order from the Greek place downtown.” He started combing his fingers through her hair again, “but for now can we nap?” Emerson had forgotten that as much energy as she was able to release during the sessions, Shawn had to use the same amount, if not more to help her get the emotional release she needed. He often found himself exhausted and spent after therapy spankings and the pair would nap together for a couple hours before Shawn would apply another layer of lotion to Emerson’s skin.

A long yawn tumbled past Emerson’s lips, “a nap sounds fantastic,” she mumbled, her eyes closing again. Shawn watched as her hand moved down his chest to intertwine with his, her thumb rubbing along his swallow tattoo. “Thank you Shawn,” she smiled, “I love you.”

Shawn leaned down and nuzzled his nose into Emerson’s hair that smelled like his shampoo, “you’re welcome, Bunny. I love you too.”

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes x oc #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes: a cake pop

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allwaswell16 · 3 years

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{Recently Read 1D Fics}

February 2021

These are all the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in February. There are 16 recs here in all and are in order by word count and organized by pairing. You can also listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 in February! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #22 | ko-fi | other fic recs

Larry

❤️ Still the One, @dandelionfairies (E, 51k, exes to lovers au, past cheating, post divorce, small town, kid fic, single father Louis, preschool teacher Harry, fate, fluff, smut, the softest past cheating fic you’ll ever read)

❤️ Frankly My Dear, I Don't Give a Damn, @mizzhydes / MsHydeStylinson (E, 45k, famous/not famous au, tattoo artist Louis, famous Harry, singer Harry, vacation, Los Angeles, NYC, Vegas, punk Louis, holiday fling, strangers to lovers, smut, happy ending, so much fun!)

❤️ Breakable Heaven, @daggerandrose / amomentoflove (E, 44k, Greek mythology au, Hades Harry, dark Harry, Persephone Louis, kidnapping, falling in love, smut, always in the mood for a good Hades/Persephone story!)

❤️ No Friends and An Empty Heart, @maelstromroots / Maelstrom_Roots (E, 36k, Fleabag au, television series au, Fleabag Louis, hot priest Harry, guinea pig Niall (literally he’s a guinea pig lol), therapy, sex addiction, mentions of death, mentions of past suicide, angst with a happy ending, I’m obsessed with this fic it was so damn good)

❤️ You Left all your Dreams on the Threshing Floor, @londonfoginacup / LadyLondonderry (M, 26k, Marcel au, magazine, Manchester, fashion, journalism, bullying, past sexual assault, hurt/comfort, plot twist, i don’t want to give away spoilers but I was shocked)

❤️ Up, @slowlyseducedbycurls / Thingssicant (M, 26k, Up movie au, Clifford the dog, Charles Muntz, old age, period typical homophobia, adventure, balloons, minor character death, fluff, angst, happy ending, what a unique and sweet fic!)

❤️ as in olden days, @scrunchyharry (T, 18k, historical au, 1920s, Canada, British Harry, Canadian Louis, French, Christmas, winter, strangers to lovers, rich Harry, language barrier, holiday romance, New Year’s Eve, bed sharing, snowed in, mutual pining, so soft and lovely)

❤️ love put us two together (but we don't know how to stay), @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same (T, 10k, friends to lovers au, best friends, pining, five times fic, dreams, alternate universes, dream guides, dreams vs reality, light angst, Louis pov, absolutely loved this and got a little choked up)

❤️ Read My Lips, superglass (NR, 6k, 90s au, friends to lovers, famous/not famous, famous Louis, musician Louis, baker Harry, winter, London, Brit pop, getting together, Christmas, New Year’s Eve, pining, fluff, smut, such beautiful writing)

❤️ Event Horizon, @mercurial-madhouse / writing_practice (M, 4k, soulmate au, soulmarks, twin flames, angst, dark magic, hurt/comfort, implied sexual contact, curse, so intense omg)

❤️ It's All Mixed Up!, @mayflowersinapril / iamnotgroot (G, 2k, five times au, established relationship, long distance relationship, misunderstandings, humor, freight ship, surprises, so funny and cute!)

❤️ safer by your side, @polkadotlou / twoshipsdrifting (T, 1k, part 5 of where the lights are beautiful series, a/b/o, alpha Harry, omega Louis, established relationship, mention of heat, fluff, implied smut, an update to my fav a/b/o fic?? yes pls! this is emotional and made the back of my neck tingle)

❤️ Pound Cake, @kingsofeverything (NR, 1k, friends to lovers au, baker Harry, birthday, love confessions, baking, roommates, best friends, butthole series, lol this was both hilarious and emotional)

Gryles

❤️ sad sex is…no, @disgruntledkittenface (NR, 2k, fwb, angst, communication, getting together, smut, oof so much emotion for 2k!)

Lilo

❤️ bad luck to talk on these rides, @quelsentiment / wordsnnotes (G, 10k, Lilo friendship fic, established relationship with Zayn/Liam, friendship, developing friendship, platonic relationships, asexual Louis, family issues, 5 times fic, hurt/comfort, alcohol, fluff, humor, this fic made my heart so full)

Shiall

❤️ Get Burned By the Fire, orphan_account (NR, 12k, Niall/Shawn Mendes, fwb, based on Small Talk, bartender Niall, side Larry, loved this and the twist was so good)

#28th appreciation #fic rec #allwasficrecs #february #larry fan fic #gryles fan fic #shiall fan fic

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bisexualdaemon · 4 years

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Cake

a/n: when tipsy meets twitter, all bets are off

hello! I woke up three days ago like I’d been reborn in my love for this kid, so I wrote this filth 😅 i’ve posted a few times recently about this video but if you haven’t seen it, scroll my blog or search cake lol trust me it’s worth your time.

(masterlist is linked in my description)

warnings: 3.9k of absolute filth

Movie night had ended hours ago, giving way to sleepy rideshares and drunken footsteps into the second bedroom. Brian was passed out and snoring in the giant armchair across from you. The Top Gun drinking game had gone wrong at around the eighth high five and completely derailed at the sixth “Iceman,” which became a salud of sorts in the room. Beer cans, mango White Claws, and the occasional tequila bottle littered the kitchen island.

“Psst, are you awake?” a toe poked your side from above. Shawn looked down at you with a cocked eyebrow from under his crooked elbow. You’d taken residence behind his legs, resting your head on his hip to watch the movie, bowing out of getting totally trashed. Your lips were still tingly enough to be dangerous.

“Yeah,” you croaked, clearing your throat and stretching, “I’m awake.”

“Are you suuure?” he slurred, tired and tipsy. The smirk was audible, “I thought I felt you drooling through my sweatpants.” His breath came out in a whoosh when you punched him in the abs with your outstretched arm.

“How’s that for awake, fucker?!” He chuckled and caught at your hand, unfisting your fingers and playing with them as he pulled out his phone. You let him. You even opened your hand fully so he could trace little patterns on your palm.

It had been like this for a few months, the flirting, the touching. A drunken night of 20-somethings playing spin the bottle had ended with multiple people clearing their throats with wide eyes as Shawn kissed you.

My God, he had kissed you. Fingers splayed against your neck, his lips gently interlocked with yours. It started out chaste, just two mouths touching, but as soon as he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, it was game over. The people, the voices, your friends, all melted away and it was just the two of you. His top lip between yours. Gentle sucking pressure. His body heat radiating onto your skin. It was everything you never knew you wanted. Until Connor clapped Shawn on the shoulder and ripped him away, turning the two of you into human embarrassed laughing emojis.

Since then, it had been like this. His hand on your lower back at the coffee shop, lazy naps together after midday movies, play fighting and fake indignation after one too many shots at the bar. Your friends all shared sideways looks and snide smirks every time you hung out but you hadn’t crossed any lines again and you definitely hadn’t talked about it. Whatever it was didn’t need conversation. It was fun. It was nothing. He was busy. He was a globally-famous popstar. You were normal. The last thing you wanted was one of those embarrassing tabloid articles, “15 Things You Need to Know About Shawn Mendes’s New Fling.” So, in the quiet moments, you let him trace patterns on your palm and send shivers down to your toes.

“Hey, come up here, I’m scrolling Twitter,” he swept his fingers down to your wrist and gave it a tug, a little giddiness in his tone. He made space for you in front of him on the couch, giving you his bicep as a pillow. You settled back against his hard chest and let your legs weave into his. He’s so goddamn warm. It was a mistake wearing jean shorts to his condo. There was a part of you that wondered if he turned the A/C down on purpose but you didn’t want to think about why.

Scrolling Twitter, where Shawn saw the most fan activity, was one of your favorite pastimes. Seeing the reactions to this dude you knew in real life was occasionally shocking, sometimes horrifying, but always amusing. He held the phone out in front of you and thumbed through his feed.

Most of his mentions were about missing him. He’d been on a break since the end of his last tour, taking some time to himself without a schedule for every minute of every day. For a guy who had been taking photos with fans pretty much everyday for the last seven years, you understood why they might be freaking out. He’d broken the pattern. Thank God for that.

You tried to keep your eyes from crossing at the repeated “I miss Shawn @shawnmendes” tweets and the feeling of his alcohol-warmed fingers against your hip. I shouldn’t want this.

“Wait!” you snapped a finger at his phone, “what was that?”

“Oh, that?” he scrolled back, “it’s just an old video.” His voice broke a couple octaves on the last bit. The tweet was accompanied by the wide-eyed blushing emoji. Curious. You raised an eyebrow and watched. He was eating a guitar-shaped cake...with his hands. Mouth wide open, his face buried over and over in thick pieces of chocolate cake with some kind of blue frosting on it. It was fucking filthy. You rubbed your thighs together absent-mindedly.

“What do the comments say?” You poked at his phone before he could move it away.

“Oh, nothing really,” his voice was still high, which meant he knew what the comments likely said. You huffed and grabbed at the phone. “Shawn, you know I have Twitter, I’ll see it whether you like it or not!” You rammed your hips backward, pausing for a second when you felt something you weren’t expecting, but not for too long. He sucked in a breath, coughing, and dropped his phone—right into your waiting hands.

“Hahaha!” You jumped up and ran to the other side of the big white couch, kicking your legs in victory, “I win!” He tripped over his own oversized limbs before he got to you, falling to the floor within reach of your feet. He reached out and pulled your legs toward him, framing his face between your thighs. Your giggles stopped short and your face flamed.

“Can you assholes get a room?!” Brian was awake and fussing at the thin fleece blanket he’d scrounged off the back of the couch. He rolled over mumbling something that sounded like just fucking fuck already but you were too busy thinking about Shawn’s head still between your legs to be bothered by it.

Shawn slowly lifted his finger to his lips in the universal sign to be quiet and untangled himself to stand. He reached out a hand and you didn’t hesitate to grab it, leading you to his bedroom down the hall. You held his phone in a death grip, unwilling to let go in case he caught you off guard.

The room was dark, save for his phone, the rectangle reflecting a solid white off the wall of glass facing the city. The CN Tower lights flickered in the late night sky, seemingly suspended in midair. His unmade bed was the biggest and brightest thing in the room. A white comforter hung half on the floor at an odd angle off the corner of the mattress, his white sheets completely exposed. The pillows were all scrunched up at the headboard, like he’d been kicking and pushing all night long. Like he hadn’t slept soundly in weeks.

“Okay, so what you’re about to read…” he shut the door behind him, scrubbing at the back of his neck, “it’s gonna be weird, but like it’s fine I’m used to it. They’re...a little invasive.” Weird? Invasive? Curiouser and curiouser…

You walked over to his bed, picking up the comforter and tossing it haphazardly back onto the bed, and sat on the edge staring at the video and letting it play a few more times. Then you swiped down.

@canadianmendussy: ALEXA PLAY BIRTHDAY CAKE BY RIHANNAAAAA

@perfectlyru1n: oh my goD does he really go down like thAT?!

“Oh...my God,” you covered your mouth to keep from laughing, “you’ve seen this before?”

He bounced on the mattress facedown, mumbling something into the sheets.

“What was that?” you asked, with Southern sweet tea levels of sugar. You ruffled his hair, brushing through his curls. He turned his head, his face flushed with more than just alcohol.

“I said yes, I’ve seen it before…” he opened one eye and looked up at you, “I usually just ignore them.”

There were over 400 replies on this tweet, some people chiding the horny stans for posting something Shawn can see, others just piling on.

@illuminateruin: is that cake gluten-free?

@kidinlover: @illuminateruin idk but I know pussy is

@particularbenito: CAN HE EAT PUSSY LIKE THAT?!?!?!

“Can he eat pussy like that...” you read out loud under your breath, your mind conjuring up that image of his face between your thighs. Shawn’s head shot up, eyes wide.

“What???” His face was practically magenta at this point, “is that a serious question??”

“What? Uhh, no. Not serious. A reply actually,” you rushed, giving him a sideways look. I mean...maybe it was a serious question? The curiosity was going to kill you. Oh, no. No, no, no. Your lips tingled.

“Well, I mean….can you?” You could hear the glint in your eye.

Fuck it all.

“Can I….w-what?” he stuttered, the air crackling between the two of you. He looked like a cornered animal, like the wrong move would get him killed.

“Can you,” you pushed a loose curl out of his face and nodded toward his phone, “eat pussy like that?”

Oh, God, did I just…?

“I’ve never gotten any complaints,” your head popped up at his self-satisfied tone. Gone was the red-faced shy boy talking about embarrassing fans. The Shawn in front of you was...confident. Hungry. His fingers grazed your ankles resting beside him. It didn’t escape your notice. You shivered.

It wasn’t cold.

“M-maybe they were just too afraid to tell a big, famous rockstar that he sucked,” you were the one stuttering now, face heating by the second.

“Oh, sucking was definitely part of it,” his fingers traced the indent in your calf. You refused to pull away even though you should, even though part of you—a small, shrinking part—knew that if this went where it was definitely going, things were going to change. You snuck a finger under his chin to pull his gaze to yours.

“Is that a promise?”

“I don’t know,” he flashed a toothy smile, gravity and sheer force of will pulling his body toward yours, “is that an invitation?”

I’m probably gonna regret this in the morning.

Your lips crashed into his, giving him your answer. His mouth was hot, his breathing heavy. Tongues and teeth and lips wrestled together, refusing to part while he made his way above you, crawling on hands and knees between your legs as you settled against the pillows. He licked up into your mouth just before nibbling on your bottom lip, forcing a moan from deep inside you. This was primal, the need you felt with him. Like once you came together, nothing could break you apart.

His hands moved up your body, scratching gently at your exposed legs and slipping beneath your hoodie. He broke away from your lips to shuck off your top and expose all your delicate skin. His fingers slipped beneath your lace bralette and he played with the tiny clasp between your breasts.

“Is this okay?” he asked, a little out of breath, his thin t-shirt pressing against your skin.

You nodded so quickly you thought your neck might snap. He popped the clasp and spread his calloused hands across your chest. The friction was glorious. Your body chased his fingers involuntarily, bowing up off the high thread count sheets.

“Be still, baby,” he whispered, dipping his head and placing an open mouthed kiss just above your belly button. Your eyes rolled back at the pet name, another moan escaping your lips. Warmth rushed between your legs.

“Shawn,” you gasped, trying to control your breathing so he didn’t know just how fucked you were, “when I gave you an invitation, I didn’t expect you to be late to the party.” You rocked your hips up into his chest pointedly.

“Well, I can't just jump to the entrée, can I?” He fiddled with the button on your denim shorts, loosening it with a little pop. Teasing, he licked at a freckle just above your hip before sucking at it with enough force to leave a mark.

“Fuck!” Your hands shot down to his mop of curls, fingers buried in the thick locks. He pulled and nibbled at that spot over and over, all while grazing his fingers just beneath the waistband of your simple cotton cheeky panties.

When he pulled away, an angry red violet half-moon colored the skin. He took one last lick, smiling at your gasp in response.

“I love that sound,” he sat back on his heels between your legs, looking down at your heaving chest.

“I’ll make it again if you take that shirt off,” you reached for him with grabby hands, trying to Harry Potter that shit. He laughed and did the boy thing, grabbing his shirt at the back of his neck before tugging it forward off his body.

The gasp came again. Not even on purpose or because you’s promised him, but because he was so stupid gorgeous in the low light of the city you couldn’t help yourself. You’d seen him in hot tubs and at sweaty summer parties and in those fucking Calvin Klein pictures, but none of that compared to having him shirtless between your thighs just a few inches from your outstretched fingers.

His chest was flushed, some combination of adrenaline and alcohol. Little freckles dotted his lightly tanned skin all the way up his torso to the dusting of chest hair that colored his chest. His perfect pink nipples were hard against the cool air of the room, begging for you to touch or kiss or bite. Or all of the above. You reached out to trace his appendix scar where it peaked out of his low-slung sweatpants. His body danced away from you as he caught at your hand.

“Don’t,” he growled, weaving his fingers between yours and pressing his lips onto the back of your palm like a fucking Victorian gentleman. Like he wasn’t staring down at your hardening nipples thinking about how good they would feel pinched warm between his fingers. He tipped forward, bracing himself against the mattress, his mouth just a few centimeters from your skin. Dragging flesh against flesh, he left kisses at random in the valley between your breasts. Moving farther and farther down your body, he paused, sitting up on his heels.

“Are you sure?” He was breathing heavy, looking straight through you, both hands hovering around the edges of your shorts. You were nodding before he even finished his question.

He curled his fingers around all the fabric in his way, denim and cotton both, and dragged the offending pieces of clothing down your legs, lifting them off and tossing them against the wall across the room. You breathed steady, looking at him looking at you. His mouth hung open in speechless wonder.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he whispered, settling back between your thighs, a mirror of his earlier pose on the couch. Another wave of heat rushed straight to your clit, silently screaming for him.

“I know,” you brushed through his curls, giving him a suggestive grin when he looked up at you, “I taste good too.”

That was all the permission he needed. A second later, he buried his face between your legs, nudging your knees over his shoulders. His tongue swirled in circles around your clit finishing in random flicks. He moaned into you, his lips closing around your swollen folds with gently sucking pressure.

“Shit, Shawn!” you shouted, praying to the gods that everyone still in the condo was too drunk and passed out to hear you. The white sheets bunched in your fists, arms spread wide. Your thighs clamped down against his ears.

He continued his licks and flicks, snaking his hands up your legs and gently prying your legs apart. You clenched hard as he pinned your thighs to the mattress, holding you open with his forearms. Filthy sounds echoed off the walls, wet sucking, moaning from both of you. He dipped his chin and circled your entrance with his tongue, lapping at you.

“Christ!” your hands shot into his damp curls. He was working hard down there, flexing and moaning and fighting your spasms. You looked down and saw his hips impatiently rutting into the mattress. It only made you wetter, gushing onto his waiting tongue. He drank everything you gave him.

“He’s not here,” he said in a low and gravelly voice, a little breathless. He pulled back, the bottom half of his face shining in the dark. His fingers toyed with your sensitive, wet lips, watching as you twitched and trembled, so close to the edge. A firm circle around your clit had your back bowing, contorting backward off the bed. A single tear rolled down your temple.

“I’m so close,” you panted, trapping his outstretched hand against your skin.

“Shawn, I need you.”

“Need me?” His fingers paused, “need me where?”

“Oh, God, don’t stop,” you choked out, a sob threatening. Your back arched up off the sheets again to find friction. “I need...I need you inside me.”

At some point between your words and the needy moan that followed, he’d removed his sweatpants and a black pair of Calvins. You heard him rustling his hand inside the bedside table followed by the metallic sound of foil and the sharp scent of latex. Thank fuck he’s prepared.

When he dropped down onto his forearms, hovering an inch from where you needed him, you were dripping onto the sheets, grinding down into the mattress waiting desperately for him. He ran his nose over your collarbone, peppering kisses along your neck. It was slow and deliberate. A fucking tease.

“Shawn,” you pulled his face up to yours, all squished between your hands, “if you don’t fuck me right now, I swear I will…”

He pressed inside to the hilt in one swift motion, cutting off your threat.

“What are you swearing to do, princess?” he asked, a smirk and a fire in his eyes. The moan that escaped you in response was embarrassingly loud. He stilled and closed his eyes, allowing you to adjust. You took even breaths, relaxing into his hips, holding on to his shoulders for dear life. His cock was perfect. He was perfect.

I am so fucked.

He moved, slowly at first, stroking all the right places. When his hips separated from yours, pulling almost all the way out, he rutted back inside. It was deep, long thrusts touching some place inside you weren’t sure you knew was there. Your head thrashed against the pillows. Your grip on his shoulders turned sharp, clawing long red-raw marks into his pale skin.

“I’m not gonna last long,” he hissed into your ear, “fuck, you’re so tight.” His abs scraped against your body like a washboard, the tension clear in his muscles. He was wound up, ready to shatter. He crashed into you, repeatedly slapping skin against skin. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight, slow circles in contrast with the punishing rhythm of his hips. He lifted one of your legs over his hip to change the angle, to make you even tighter around him. A bead of salty-sweet sweat dropped from his chest into your mouth.

“Right...there,” you groaned, your eyes rolling back, “I’m gonna come!”

“That’s right, honey,” he grunted, flattening his fingers across your clit with intense pressure, “come for me.”

The room went white. The sound of your hips colliding was replaced with a high-pitched ring. Your world seemed to implode, your muscles moving independently. He wrapped his arms around your middle and held you as he fucked you through the waves, his weight the only thing keeping you from being swept away in the current.

“Stay here with me,” he cooed, sweet but taut in his throat. Your heart slammed against your ribs in rhythm with his hips. He grunted once, twice, three times with his final thrusts and came undone, pumping into the condom. Biting down on your shoulder to stifle his sounds, he sucked hard enough to leave an angry mark. You contracted around him, both inside and out, curling around his thighs and back and neck, letting the full weight of his completely spent body bring you back to full consciousness.

“Hey,” you fingered his frizzed and fucked curls, “Shawn?”

“Hmm?” he nuzzled into your hands and squeezed you a little tighter.

“You’re crushing me,” you exhaled, strained.

“Oh, fuck! I’m sorry!”

He shifted to his side, accidentally pulling out too quickly, making both of you wince.

“Shit, shit, I’m so sorry,” he was so cute when he was scrambling. He got up and threw out the used condom, quickly returning from the adjoining bathroom with a damp cloth.

“Come here,” he held his arms out, making a perfect you-sized place in front of him. You slid into it easily and let him press the cloth between your legs, wincing again.

“Did I hurt you?” There was so much concern in his voice.

“No, no, I just…” you held onto his arm, glad to be facing away, “I haven’t been fucked like that in awhile.”

“Glad to be of service.” You didn’t have to be looking at him to see his smug smile. Reaching back, you slapped his thigh in retaliation. He caught your hand and kissed it like a Victorian gentleman again, like it made up for his cockiness. You tried to convince yourself that it didn’t, flushing even harder than your just-fucked body should have allowed. He wrapped his arm around your front and intertwined your legs, snuggling his face into the nape of your neck.

“So, uhhh, are we gonna do this again?” he asked, barely concealing the hope in his voice.

“Shhh,” you said, yawning for effect, “we’ll talk about it in the morning. Just sleep.”

He exhaled against your back, placing one last kiss on the mark you were sure he’d left in the midst of his orgasm. You stared out into the Toronto skyline as his breathing evened, his quiet snores barely audible against the screaming voices in your head. As the light crept into the room, as morning dawned on your sleepless night, you repeated his question over and over again.

Are we gonna do this again?

There was an easy answer: yes. Yes, yes, yes, my God, yes you were going to do this again. But there was another, harder question to answer beneath it. If we do this again, will we ever be able to stop?

***

taglist: @justanotherfangurl272 @siennarossi @trustfundshawn @alone-in-madness @harryandmolly @thatindiannerdygirl @fromthicctosticcc @softmendesss @sinplisticshawn @nedthegay @september-lace @itrocksmysocks @disaster-rose @mendesoft @luvluvxx @i-play-video-games @ihearthemcallingforyou @gentleshawn @kitykatnumber @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @ijustreallylikeshawnokay @shhhawnmendes @shawnsblue @imaginashawnns @mendesficsxbombay @shawn-youth @kerwritesthings @starlightsivann @lavenderhoneymndes @begginyouformendes @fallinallincurls @shawn-youth @linanilssonfurberg @lostinshawnsmemory @bucky-ish

(as always let me know if you want on/off the tag list...I realize I don’t post regularly and like half of these people could be out of the fandom lol)

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes smut #shawn peter raul mendes #my writing #yeah it took me a little more than an hour but it's HERE and that's all that MATTERS

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forever--darling · 4 years

Text

mine - s.m.

ceo au

a/n: I suggest listening to I put a spell on you by annie lennox while reading this

warnings: 8.3k words of slight curse words, innuendos, and ceo shawn mendes

Ding

Surrounded in the sweet smell of pastries and bread, you had been so caught up in the comfort that the building provided while your nose was stuck in a textbook, you had failed to notice that you were still in the middle of a shift. Your eyes were tracing over the same line over and over as a small feeling filled your gut like you were missing something, but you tried to write it off and continue studying. You had a huge test the next day that was worth a large percent of your grade and you couldn’t afford to fail it, so any distractions had to be rid from your mind. And, they had but it wasn’t until the loud beep went off again that it alerted the attention of the man stood at the front counter who had been ringing up another customer.

The older man poked his head into the doorway to see you bent over the counter, eyes trained onto the thick book and zero perception of where you were. He sighed before beginning to yell your name over and over into the back room. Seconds later, your head tore away from the book, startled and brought back to the fact that you were still at work.

Pushing yourself away from the counter and away from the textbook, you grabbed two oven mitts. “Oh, shit!”

You opened the door to see the smoke rising from the baked treats and quickly reached for them hoping that you hadn’t burnt the last batch of the day. Slipping the hot pan onto the wood counter, you slipped the oven mitts from your hands as your eyes fell back to the still open textbook. Your neck was twisted to the side in a desperate attempt to analyze the words and have them stick into your brain.

“Y/N,” he called again, taking your attention away from your studies for the second time.

“Right,” you replied, slamming the book closed, making sure to mark your page before you continued to prepare the muffins for their basket. You sighed with relief that not one of them appeared to be burnt black.

Minutes later, you appeared from the back room and approached the front counter with a brown wicker basket sat neatly into your palms. Covered in a clear plastic bag tied at the top with a pink ribbon to ensure that the muffins stayed in the basket when delivered, you slid the basket onto the counter next to the other one. It appeared to be the same despite the different flavored muffins and the grey ribbon tied tightly at the top in comparison of a pink.

You sighed in a way to prepare yourself to face your boss, “Here you go, Oscar. The last batch of the day, all made and ready to go.”

Oscar, your boss and owner of the building, nodded sparing a glance towards the basket as he continued to jot down words on a notepad with a black pen. “Not burnt?” he asked raising an eyebrow his words soft but serious.

“Not burnt,” you replied, hands running along the plastic wrap before falling onto the ends of the ribbon tightening them. “Luckily. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, hasn’t been the first time.”

“And probably won’t be the last,” you admitted teasingly.

Oscar nodded knowingly as laughter bubbled from the back of his throat, “Probably not but it’s okay, you’re a college kid. I knew what I was getting into when I hired you. So what class is it this time?”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned back against the counter, body facing the back wall at the chalkboard menu you had written on with new pastries that morning. “Physics, which I don’t even know why I’m taking in the first place. Anyways, I have this huge test tomorrow and it’s a large part of my grade. I’m struggling enough as it is so I can’t fail.”

“I see,” Oscar responded, already able to feel the stress seeping out of you, “And have you figured out what you want to major in yet?”

“Nope,” you replied popping the “p” as you began to rock back and forth on the balls of your feet, “Not a clue.”

He smiled, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out, and if you never do and college doesn’t seem like the place for you, there will always be a place for you here.”

“Thank you, Oscar. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” you said sending the older man a warm smile.

“Anytime, kid,” he mumbled, returning your smile with a wink.

Oscar Wheeler had been the owner of Sensationally Muffin for almost three years now and had opened the bakery after leaving his former job as a salesman. At rolling in at the height of around six foot, Oscar Wheeler was a broad shouldered man that had a strong large build at the age of forty-five. He had umber colored skin, with warm yellow and copper undertones, that wrinkled at the corners of his mouth and around his eyes. Grey hair rounded the edges of his head, standing out against his black buzzed head while also being shown present around his facial hair that ran along his chin and upper lip.

Besides his handsome middle aged features, Oscar was a sweet man that would spread kindness wherever he went and found a comfort in the bakery business. He loved the happiness that was brought from making the baked goods and found solitude in his small quaint little shop that bursted with warmth. From his presence, he provided a kind of compassion that no one could fake and because he was so nice and talked to anyone that walked through those doors, the small bakery became a place of support and love for many people.

Oscar had built the life he had always hoped for in the last three years and it always warms your heart at the business he had created. As a previous salesman before, all he had ever done was work. Day after day, chained to that desk, losing the feeling of what it felt like to actually be living. One day it had gotten to be too much and he quit on the spot, invested his savings into a dusty old building sat on the corner of first avenue.

He built this place out of nothing all by himself and because he had always been working he wasn’t married and he had no kids. He didn’t have a family like many men did his age and instead created his own family, here. He had formed friendships here and as corny as it sounded, you had found your own little family within these four walls.

Even though the bakery had been up and running for three years there were still not many workers that had settled here. Oscar was a man who relied on honesty and selflessness. He was picky when it came to who he hired. He had rejected many college students the moment they walked in through the doors begging for a job, and it came to quite a shock when he finally had hired you. It was over a year ago when you had just gotten done with what ended up being one of the worst classes you had ever had and along with that had been stood up on a date.

It was snowing and the wind was blazing and you couldn’t bare the idea of moping all the way back to your apartment to only get pitied for the rest of the night by your roommate. Instead, you wandered the streets, which seemed almost empty due to the storm, trying to busy yourself until the time seemed acceptable to return home.

However, it became difficult to stay out in the cold any longer when the wind picked up and you stumbled into the first warmest building you could see. If only you knew that when you walked into the bakery that day, snow falling from your clothes, that it would be the start of meeting some of the best people of your life. From then it was the easiest decision Oscar had made, from seeing how you longed to get warmth from the small fireplace and offered to help with anything. So when the time had came that you finally asked if there were any jobs in the small building, you had instantly grown to love, he had said yes without even giving you an interview.

That was how the little Sensationally Muffin family started and despite the sadness that took up the man of never getting married or having children, it was quickly replaced by the happiness of your presence and the bakery’s presence. Because at the end of the day, you were his daughter whether from blood or not.

“So, are you still okay to deliver these tonight or do you have to get home,” you were brought out of your thoughts by the man of the hour himself who was reorganizing some of the pastries in the box placed near the counter.

“Only two stops?” you asked, looking towards the two baskets on the counter.

“Yes, two stops,” Oscar confirmed adjusting a piece of coffee cake before sliding the small plastic door shut.

“Then yeah I can. Suppose I can take a break of studying for a little while, which I’m guessing since this basket is all blueberry muffins and it’s a Thursday that we have yet to deliver Mrs. Crenshaw's basket of muffins,” you stated, eyes looking towards the pink bowed basket that was filled to the brim of just blueberry muffins.

“You’d be right.”

“Of course, I know how much Mrs. Crenshaw loves her blueberry muffins,” you laughed.

Oscar smiled as he moved the two baskets towards the other end of the counter so you could just grab them on your way out, “She does. Anyways, I got a call from Roxy one of the head nurses of the nursing home. She said that they’ll be at the park again like they are usually on Thursdays. She says today they got some college kid to sing to them with his guitar so they’re just hanging there until six, when they’ll have to get everyone back.”

“That’s nice, I’ll head there first. Won’t want to miss them,” you replied, untying your blue apron from around your waist and folding it up in your hands, “So where’s the other delivery supposed to go?”

“Uh, it’s a large company building near the center of the city. I attached the address to the basket so you know where to find it and put the man’s name so you don’t get lost once you’re in there.”

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion at his words as your fingers knotted into the apron in your hand, “A company building that’s different. We don’t usually get orders from places like that.”

The older man nodded but couldn’t help the small smile on his lips, “Yes, but I have to say I’m not complaining. Business is business and I will take as much of it as I can get.”

Your expression softened and chuckled knowing he was right. Walking into the back room, you placed your apron down on one of the bottom shelves and began to place all of your notebooks and your textbook back into your backpack. Still curious of the journey you were about to take, you continued the conversation to see if Oscar knew anything else. “So, with this company building do you know anything about them or about who made the order?”

“Uh, yeah. I believe it was some assistant or someone like that. Ms. Bloom, I think it was. She was calling about placing an order of muffins for her boss. Heard from a friend that we have the very best. Said that her boss has a thing for muffins and would probably like the small surprise from all of the meetings he has been having the last couple days non stop,” he said now starting to tidy up the counter.

“Hmm busy man,” you commented pulling the backpack over your shoulders before you clock out of your shift, “Is it a big company?”

He nodded, turning his attention away from the front counter towards you as you approached the basket of muffins, “Yes, very. Like muli-million very, I think, but you shouldn’t have to worry about that. You have enough on your plate as it is.”

“Funny,” you thought out loud as your fingers began to trace around the white card that was pinned to the basket, the words hidden on the other side, “A multi-million company is buying a fourteen dollar basket of muffins. You would think they would at least buy some that are sprinkled with bits of gold, but hey lucky us. Business is business.”

Oscar chuckled at the way you quoted him and couldn’t help but to walk over and pull you into a side hug, “That’s right, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Definitely.”

“Okay, be safe. Text me if you need anything and good luck on your test,” he said, hand placed comfortingly on your shoulder.

“Thanks,” you mumbled out, grabbing both baskets and turning to walk towards the front door sparing a small wave over your shoulder, “Bye!”

He waved back a smile pulled across his face, causing his eyes to wrinkle like they tended to always do. Squeezing past the glass door, you ended up on the sidewalk that wasn’t as busy as it had been previously in the day since most people had made it at home by this time on a weekday. You smiled at the feeling of wind dancing across your skin and the sight of the sun starting to fall from the sky as you moved towards the side of the bakery to locate your transportation and one of the things you loved the most in this city. Your bike. Hating how crowded the streets would get for driving, you would rely on your beautiful bike to get you from one place to another whether it’s to deliver muffins, or get you across campus as fast as possible. Gosh, you really loved that bike.

It was a light blue Schwinn bicycle that had a white seat and a metal basket hanging in the front off of the handlebars housing a place to hold the muffins. Unlocking the bike from the bike ramp, you placed both orders of muffins into the hanging basket and swung your leg over the seat. Situating yourself onto the bike, you set out to your destination, one of two until you were able to go home and crawl into the bed of your apartment.

By the time you had managed to drop off the basket of muffins in the park for Mrs. Crenshaw and get out of the park, it had taken you almost a half an hour. You didn’t think that when you got there that Mrs. Crenshaw would insist that you stay and continue to argue over it for the next fifteen minutes. Even when you had mentioned that you had another stop to make she would just interrupt you by talking about how great the music was this college boy was singing, or go on about how cute he was as if that would make you stay and visit with them awhile. You thought it was sweet that she wanted to talk to you and you felt a little guilty about leaving in a rush, but knew that you could just visit another day.

Another day when you didn’t have to go deal with multi-million company people and have to study for a huge Physics test. When you somehow had managed to slip away from Mrs. Crenshaw because she was stuffing her face with muffins and dancing to the music, you quickly grabbed your money from Roxy, the head nurse that Oscar said made the call, and hot tailed it out of the park before any of the other elders could pull you into a conversation.

You were walking your bike down a sidewalk that went out of the park, waiting to get out towards the street to hop back on and get going. Knowing that the road was approaching, you stopped your bike for a second to take a glance at the address written on the card of the basket. Reaching over and into the bike basket you flipped the card over and read over what it said.

Mr. Mendes

Mendes Corporations

982 Edgefield Drive

Toronto, CA R1A K3G

The bike ride from the park to the company building took exactly seven minutes give or take and luckily it was a place you couldn’t get lost finding. From a few blocks away, you were able to spot it and it’s crystal glass walls. By the time you had actually arrived outside of the building, your jaw had hit the floor. When Oscar had said company with an office building, you never expected this. Even when, he said “multi-million” you wrote it off thinking that he was just kidding. Yeah, you thought “oh it will just be a small brick company building that was two or three stories high” - yeah no. This was not the case.

This company had to have been large and very much a multi-million maybe even billion. The building was tall coming up to maybe being the height of a small skyscraper that went up multiple stories, made out of clear glass, accented with silver steel to add detail to the building. With windows surrounding the whole building, it no doubt had a lot of light pour in during the day. Or maybe the windows reflected the harsh light to hit back at the streets, considering you couldn’t see within the building through the windows. Either way you couldn’t know until you actually stepped in. The front was fitted with two sets of doors on either side of a silver large revolving door and above the door were the words Mendes Co. splayed across in thick black letters that no doubt lit up at night.

To accompany the doors there were two doormen dressed in black fitted suits and white earpieces on, standing on either side of the regular doors. They looked more like bodyguards and could be for all you knew, but with them opening the sets of doors they stood by, it gave you the impression they were just very well dressed doormen. As you looked up at the building, it seemed to go up forever before being cut flat by the open styled roof, that no doubt probably had access to it from a door and stairs.

Surprisingly with a place that looked so high class and well done, there was a metal bike rack sat near the road. Even that seemed to be better than the other streets you found bike racks at. It was clean and reflected off the lights of the city, not one speck of dust or rust. You somehow found yourself standing outside, looking around to see if the people walking near the building were better dressed and looked ready for a business meeting, but they all appeared like you. Casually dressed and not paying attention to the gorgeous building, they were passing as if it were a normal thing.

Noticing that the sun was setting more and more behind the city the longer you stood there gaping at the business building, you quickly tore your gaze from it to lock your bike against the bike rack. When secured and sure that it wasn’t going anywhere, you took the basket of muffins in your hand and made your way towards the revolving door. Both doorman/ bodyguards looked you up and down as you reached the door and no doubt if you hadn’t been holding that basket of muffins they probably wouldn’t have let you walk in just by the way you dressed.

As soon as you laid eyes on the bustling building from the inside, you knew they definitely wouldn’t have let you in. The inside was the nicest place you had ever seen. The walls from the ceiling to the floor were white and smooth showing a faint reflection as you walked by it. Anything else was silver or black causing the whole room to appear sleek and smooth leaving you with the question of what the hell this company really did and was. And if that wasn’t it, the lobby was filled with people fitted like they were made of money.

From the tight suits that clung to each man to the women that dressed in short pencil skirts or dresses paired with a blazer, their hair all pulled up out of their face and showing their beautiful soft features. Plus, every women had a pair of heels at least six inches tall on the bottom of their feet making them look even more business sexy and tall. Like extremely tall. You weren’t exactly a very short person but next to all these women, they made you look like the size of a twelve year old next to a bunch of NBA basketball players. In that moment you had never felt so out of place before with your ripped skinny jeans and sneakers.

Your hair was messily pulled into a ponytail with pieces framing your face and along with the jacket and backpack you had on, a grey long sleeve shirt that hugged your chest tightly. Your face barely had any makeup thinking that for work all you needed was some mascara but now you wished you had put on some lip gloss or something because compared to all the other women who supported a lipstick your lips just looked dry and cracked. You knew you didn’t belong in that building and so did everyone else. They all followed you with their gaze and probably felt relieved that there was a basket of muffins in your hand meaning you weren’t actually here for something important. It was funny that the basket provided you with protection from the well dressed vultures and you knew that it would be a whole different story when you had to leave basketless.

Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, you moved your way through the lobby towards the front silver desk that appeared to be just as smooth as the walls. A woman sat behind the desk her blonde hair pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head with a tight black skirt and white blouse with the top buttons undone. She looked up from the computer but instead of giving you a harsh glare like everyone else, she offered a soft smile not enough to show her teeth but enough for it to be a smile.

You took a deep breath never feeling this nervous to deliver a basket of muffins before. Raising the basket, you gestured to it as you explained why someone like you would be in a place like this, “Uh, I have a delivery for a Ms. Bloom which is really-- uh, for a Mr. Mendes.”

As your words came out stuttered and fast, you mentally groaned at making yourself look like an actual idiot. Now you made yourself look even more out of place if that could even be possible. At embarrassing yourself in front of a woman who was basically a model, you could feel the heat rush up past your neck settling onto your face. You tugged at your jacket mercilessly, worrying that you might actually be escorted out of the building, but a sigh of relief flew past your mouth at the small chuckle made from the model worthy receptionist. “Yes, Mr. Mendes’ office is on the twelfth floor and as soon as you walk out of the elevator there should be a large desk where Ms. Bloom sits.”

“Alright, thank you,” you replied, raking your fingers through your hair anxiously before making your way towards where the woman was pointing that held the elevators. As you rounded the corner towards the elevators you found people bustling in and out not caring about bumping into you along the way.

There were a total of six elevators all with large silver doors and blue buttons off to the side. You had managed to slip past a sea of people that were just leaving elevator two and enter into elevator four which only held a couple older men dressed in black suits and a small group of women who were whispering to each other in the corner while sneaking you glances. They were tall like every other woman in this place and dressed in tight business clothes as usual. You were lucky to get an elevator that wasn’t full of people because that might not have set too well with you if you had.

The elevator itself was lit with white and had lights showering down from the top as the walls were cut into squares all around, bouncing your reflection back at you. Again the nicest elevator you had ever been on and wished more than anything that yours back at your apartment building looked as good as this.

“Floor?” one of the men asked who had white slicked back hair and was carrying a brown briefcase. He didn’t spare much of a glance to you which you felt relieved to not have to face his judging eyes, when you could already feel a hole being burned in the back of your head from the women.

“Uh, twelve,” you mumbled, hearing the whispers stop behind you for a few seconds before starting up again.

You weren’t even surprised probably anybody and everybody in this building knew that the twelve floor belonged to the owner of this whole corporation. Which meant that if the lobby were as dressed as they were, walking out of this elevator and onto that floor probably looked liked visiting royalty, and you were not one to walk through the doors and be among royalty. Because of the women behind you, you couldn’t help but dig your fingers into your side while trying to take smooth sturdy breaths but it became too much when you heard one of them say something about how you looked.

It was muffled and you couldn’t hear much of what she said but it was enough to know it was about you. It caused your stomach to sink further than it already had for being required to be in this building, so it made you a little less fidgety when you reached back and pulled your hair loose from the ponytail letting it fall. Your shiny unbrushed waves laid across your shoulders and you smoothed them down at the top, hoping that it looked a little more put together than it had in the ponytail.

Luckily, the twelfth floor was the lowest floor selected so you were able to be the first one off the elevator. When the awful ride finally came to a stop at your floor, you spared the men a small smile. “Have a nice day,” you said before walking out of the elevator.

The doors closed behind you and instead of walking forward towards the desk, sat a few feet down the hallway tucked up against a wall, you stood still. Clutching the basket to your chest, you gaze across the most important floor of the whole entire building. As expected, its lined with white from Ms. Bloom’s desk to the chairs that sit tucked into the few other smaller desks sat abandoned in the hallway to the walls. Also, right above Ms. Bloom’s desk was Mendes Co. in the same way it was on the front of the building. Block letters in dark black, concluding that this was in fact his floor. It was modern and sleek and made you wonder to no end about who this man was. Mr. Mendes.

He must have held so much power, in whatever the hell he did, to build a building so large and so high class. You had no doubt that he had a lot of money and from how expensive everything was and set out to be there was no doubt in your mind that Mr. Mendes had to have been older. He had to have built this company up over courses of years to get it to where it is now. It didn’t make much sense to you though that if this company seemed to have so much money and was so well known why you had never heard of it until now. It made you think that if had been around a while that you would have heard about it at least once or twice. Maybe you hadn’t heard of it because you were just some college kid that had her head stuck in a pile of books.

Within the nice floor, you could hear the faint sound of voices, phones ringing, and the sound of heels clicking against the floor, along with music that had to have been John Mayer but you couldn’t be sure. It smelled faintly of rosewood and spices mixed with some kind of cologne which instantly sent your mind in a frenzy at how good it smelt passing through your nose. It made your body sway and your head swell from how much you were beginning to like it, and knew that all the women that worked here most swoon in the presence of the masculine smell. They probably had fallen to their knees, once or twice, for their boss if Mr. Mendes smelled anything like his floor.

You were brought out of your thoughts at the sound of a high pitched voice that appeared very annoyed, “No, Mr. Mendes is in a meeting I told you that a half an hour ago and he will still be in a meeting a half an hour from now. I will let him know that you called like I said I would before.”

You looked to find the voice coming from where the large white desk was set against the wall, being no doubt Ms. Bloom. Approaching her and the desk, you watched as she yelled something into the phone before slamming it down back onto the desk, hanging up the call all together. She sat down in the grey plush chair at the desk and began to fiddle with the computer as if she hadn’t noticed you. You took that small moment to analyze her from head to toe and wasn’t surprised at all with what you were seeing. It was as if there was a pattern for the women that worked in this office or even set foot on its expensive tiled floors.

She had tan skin that looked like she had just come back from vacation and sleek caramel hair braided back into a low bun with not a single piece of hair out of place. She had piercing blue eyes that matched the colors of the ocean and stood out even more against her dark eyeshadow and winged liner. She had a small button nose that was contoured to perfection and plush pink lips that looked glossy in the light. She was dressed in a tight black dress that fell to right above her knees, showcasing her long freshly shaved legs, and it was so tight against her body that she couldn’t have been wearing a bra or any underwear. It was clear that if it was that tight and she still decided to wear it to work that it probably didn’t bother her.

And, from the way she ordered the basket of muffins to surprise her boss, dress skin tight with a face full of makeup, and be so defensive on the phone about him it was not hard to realize she had something for Mr. Mendes or maybe with him. You weren’t entirely sure but it wouldn’t be a surprise that with what money he appeared to have he could afford to sleep with his assistant and hire every beautiful person that walked along Toronto. As you thought about it all, you made sure to make a mental note to ask your roommate later that evening about the corporation because with everything you had discovered in the last ten minutes you had never been so curious in your whole entire life.

“Yes?” her high pitched voice snapped from behind the desk, not bothering to look up.

“Oh, uh I have the basket of muffins you ordered from Sensationally Muffin,” you whispered softly, slightly worried she would bite your head off if you said something wrong.

Instead, though at your words, her eyes lit up and a small smile feel on her face but that all slightly faltered as she looked up and locked gazes onto you. She frowned as she looked you up and down before letting out a distasteful noise that sounded much like an ew. She covered it up though with a small cough and turned her eyes to the basket in your hand. It was a mixed batch between one's like chocolate chip and blueberry to apple cinnamon and pumpkin. In fact the basket had almost every flavor except lemon which was requested to not be added.

You even added in your favorite muffin creation; a triple chocolate craze muffin that was filled with chocolate syrup. Of course it was delicious and drool worthy but something you could only have one of. They weren’t ordered very often and because the basket required almost every muffin you had on the menu, you thought you would sneak it in because it really was made for the high class. Now that you are standing with the basket in your hands, you’re happy that you added it, or maybe you weren’t because this man seemed to have everything except for your muffin. Which thanks to you, the triple chocolate craze will bless his taste buds though he has probably tasted the grandest of things compared to a chocolate muffin.

You felt the basket get tugged from your hands and set down onto the desk. It was funny, how much that delicious basket of muffins blended in with the rest of the building because of that stupid grey ribbon. No one would even be able to tell that it was fourteen dollars and came from a cheap bakery a few blocks away. It was sad that something so delicious would have to be given to a man that seemed to be screwing his assistant, but like Oscar always says business is business.

“How much do I owe you, for the muffins?” she asked picking out a black leather wallet from within a desk drawer.

“Uh-”

“Wait,” she holds her hand up cutting you off and at first you have no idea why. Then you realize that she has stopped you because of the voices that are coming from down a hall near the elevator that you somehow had missed when you exited and looked around the floor. They were getting closer and one obviously stood out towards Ms. Bloom when she quickly grabbed the basket of muffins from the desk and gave you a pointed look. “I’ll be right back.”

She turned away from you and fast walked, almost a jog, away from the desk in the opposite direction of where the voices were coming from. Her heels clicked against the floor as she went in a fast set of twos as she made it down the hallway towards a pair of double doors that went all the way up to the ceiling.

They were made of wood and stained dark almost to the color of black and had rusty red undertones that were seeping past the dark hue. The handles were silver rods that hung off the door and went up past the height of Ms. Bloom even in her heels. Probably stainless steel from the way they looked. She tore open one of the doors and slipped in, disappearing behind it with the basket of muffins in her hands.

You stood and took a deep breath, running your fingers through your loose hair tugging at the ends. Closing your eyes with the exhaustion kicking in, you could now hear the multiple pairs of footsteps echoing within the floor and the voices becoming more clear. As they seemed to be just around the corner, you could now identify that it was definitely a group of men. All low and deep, shouting multiple things at once, clearly arguing. However, there was one that stuck out like a sore thumbs amidst the others. It was higher and soft to the ears.

He seemed to be the one centered in the attention because though the rest of voices were jumbled together you were able to hear his words clear, “Enough, enough. I answered everything in the meeting, now stop because I have other things to attend to.”

Though his voice was demanding and sent a shiver down your spine it did not ward off the other men and only made them yell louder down the hallway as they rounded the corner. Hearing the muffled shouts burst from no longer being a wall away, you turned in the direction of the voices, that sounded clearer then they had before, faces being matched towards the rowdy sounds. Sure enough, walking in your direction was a group of what appeared to be six middle aged men dressed in suits and surrounding the very person that caused their shouting. They trailed behind him and as they only got closer to where you stood it was not hard to spot the man out who stuck out among them. He was tall. Taller than the rest of them which proved to be the first thing that made him stick out.

The next thing was his age. You easily noticed that he was half of their age at most and very handsome. Possibly the most beautiful man you had laid eyes on and that said a lot, since every young male worker in this building could make your knees weak, but him god he was something else entirely. He had dark curls sat at the top of his head that looked all messy and hadn’t been styled which only made him look more gorgeous. Which seemed impossible since he had a sharp jawline, pretty brown eyes, and pink pillowy lips. He also obviously was fit, you could tell from the way the dark blue suit hugged his long body. It made you wonder what someone like him was doing in a place like this instead of on a billboard somewhere but when the rest of the building was also good looking it kind of wasn’t a surprise that he was here either.

“Gentlemen,” he announced, revealing his soft silk like voice, making it evident that he was the one that had stuck out among their constant rambling down the hallway, “The meeting is over, I appreciate your time but this shit’s done.”

He continues to walk down the hallway towards you and the men still refuse to give up despite how cold it sounded. He tries to ignore them, looking elsewhere than the six men around him. In doing so his brown eyes fall onto you, stood abandoned at his assistant's desk with flushed cheeks, looking so out of place. At first you thought he would glare at you or laugh at the sight of you in a place like this. Which wouldn’t have been all bad if his laugh ended up to be just as beautiful as he appeared to be, but instead he cocks his head to the side looks you up and down with a curious glint in his eyes.

You shuddered under his gaze and can feel your cheeks become even more red from his intense stare. He refused to look away from you and as he looked you up and down once more, he began to lick at his lips. You didn’t know at all what it meant the way he was looking at you or why, when there were plenty of more attractive women to drool over, but felt slightly appreciative of it anyway because he was very hot. However, that turned from just a hot man in a suit staring at you into something much more real fast.

“Mr. Mendes!”

His eyes broke away for a second at the sound of his name and your blood had ran cold. Your eyes widened at the name and soon realized that this tall man with curls who stood in the middle of the men was the man of this company. He was younger than you had ever expected and now it didn’t appear such a surprise that all the women dressed the way they did especially Ms. Bloom. Any woman would want a man like that who owned what he had. In fact, I’m sure many women did. That’s why you were as shocked as you were to see his eyes on you.

He noticed your expression as soon as he moved his eyes away from one of the men back to you and realized at the mention of his name that you were startled. You looked like a deer in headlights, innocent and doe eyed. It made his stomach burn at the thought of being with someone like you. A woman pure and not invested in a world of money. It turned him on in a way it never had before, and though you were a complete stranger, if the hall were empty he would have you bent over that desk within seconds, right under his company’s name.

You broke away from his gaze at the sound of Ms. Bloom returning back to the desk and you had never been so relieved to hear the sound of her heels clicking against the floor. You noticed the way she spared a glance over your shoulder towards “Mr. Mendes” her boss before looking back towards you smugly. “How much?”

“Uh, um…”

“Excuse me,” she snapped, “Are you def, how much?”

“Fourteen dollars,” you replied swallowing the lump in your throat.

She picked through her wallet and handed you a twenty before shoving the wallet back into the desk. “You can keep the change save up to buy something that isn’t… well that,” she sneered gesturing to you up and down.

“Thanks,” you mumbled softly too focused on the gaze still locked on the back of you to even defend yourself against the snippy comment from the assistant.

Not sparing another second, you turn on your heels and head straight for the elevator. Walking by his tall figure and the other men, you can feel his eyes follow you all the way to end of the elevator. Even when you enter into the small moving box, when you look back out towards the floor you can see his brown eyes disappearing behind the silver doors as they come to a close, leaving you alone and in complete relief to be on your way out of here. As you ride down in the elevator back to the lobby, he on the other hand clears his throat and fixes his black tie before scurrying away to his office behind the large dark wooden doors.

When he is safely behind them, the men no longer are able to bother him and eventually disperse given up. Shoving his hands into his front pockets, he walks across his office, hands tracing along his desk, stopping at the basket of muffins on his desk. It being the very reason why someone like you were in his building and why you had wanted to leave in such a hurry. He chuckles softly to himself before he continues forward to one of the wall clad windows of his office. He leans against it, gazing down towards the sidewalk in front of the building that appears so much smaller from where he stands. It’s minutes later by the time he notices you bolt from the building and head straight for your bike and though he has to squint to see from how small you appear he knows it’s you from how frantic you are.

He is interrupted by a small knock on his door and the sound of it opening. He doesn’t even have to turn around to know who it is. It was going to happen some time today, he knew from the way she dressed in that skin tight black dress that hugged her whole body leaving no room for undergarments. Other days, that dress would have him locking his office and taking her onto the top of his desk where she would scream for his mercy but today his sight was too focused on something else to give into her.

“Mr. Mendes,” she said seductively, knowing how much he liked to be addressed that way in the office by her. “I got you a basket of muffins. Your favorite. With how many meetings you’ve been having, I thought it would make you feel a little bit better or just cheer you up. I know how those meetings can be.”

He didn’t turn around or even acknowledge her words at first too focused on you as you unlock your bike from the bike rack, climb on, and ride away down the street. It finally registered that she had been talking when you were no longer in sight. “Oh, yes. I see.”

That was all he had said and he still hadn’t turned around. She was pushing out her chest and rubbing her thighs together waiting for him to turn and look at her. She had gotten him a basket of muffins and instead of shoving her face down onto his desk as a way to express his gratitude, he was just staring out the damn window. It had been a week since he had devoured her on his grey couch sat in the corner of the room and she was dying to feel his burning touch again.

Usually by now, he would have been hot and horny to do a couple rounds from his desk to the couch or even on the floor. Anywhere he could just to relieve the throbbing that would appear between his legs from her in that skin tight dress but clearly that wasn’t the case now and she could see that. See that something else was taking up his mind or perhaps someone else. She was getting nervous that he wasn’t going to turn around, that he wasn’t going to acknowledge her in that dress, and wasn’t going to finish off the ache that her thighs couldn’t do on their own.

“Is that all, Ms. Bloom?” his voice broke her from her thoughts and she felt her heart drop into her stomach.

She was shocked that he was denying her and denying any moment to pleasure himself. With realization of what he really was saying that shock turned into anger. Her blood began to boil and now she was beginning to feel hot in more than just one place. Waiting another second, thinking he was going to change his mind, she lost it fully when he sent her a glance over his shoulder and raised his eyebrow clearly annoyed. His eyes showed no trace of lust or need and instead was emotionless not even giving her a once over like he always did. At his small glance, her eyes narrowed and sent him the coldest glare she could muster as her lips curled into a snarl.

“Yes, Mr. Mendes that’s all,” she spat, the words sounding like venom dripping from her tongue as she turned on her heels and stomped out of the office making sure to slam the door on the way out.

He sighed at the childish behavior, pissed at her response to him refusing to have sex with her. Sure, she was hot or whatever but clearly she didn’t understand that it was going to happen sooner or later. That he was going to get tired of her and toss her aside. He can only stick with one woman for so long before it starts to taste the same on his tongue.

Since she was his assistant, she should’ve known this out of anybody with how many women, who worked under him, that he would bring in this office to fuck. Each only ever lasting a few weeks at most, she should have easily known this was going to happen. It was just the way he was and no woman could change that. He knew that if she continued to be upset about the whole thing that he would have to fire her, leaving it only being five months since she’d been hired and even if he did have to, it wouldn’t be a problem.

Many women wanted this job and would kill to wait on his hand and foot at every hour of every day. It would be easy to replace someone like Ms. Bloom. Plus with her now tossed to the side, he had his eyes set on something else. Something that he was going to get no matter how hard it was because he never got refused. Turns out this something was just a college girl who worked at a bakery making muffins.

next part

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #my writing #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes au #ceo au #shawn #mendes #shawn x reader #shawn x you #shawn x y/n #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes x y/n

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fallinallincurls · 4 years

Note

i was thinking about fiancé!shawn and now i am actually in tears he would be so <3

oh. my. god. i’m already crying just THINKING about this.

first off, he would be the MOST proud and excited about the fact the two of you got engaged like would show every person willing to give two seconds of their attention him all the pictures and constantly retell the story of how he popped the question

flowers or surprise gifts would start showing up at your office or at home when he’s on the road all with a little note that says “to my future wife” or “for soon to be mrs. mendes”

and then if you thought shawn was a total softie before as a boyfriend get ready for him as a fiancé because his level of care, attention and love would probably triple he'd always be kissing you, hugging you at any time possible or just needing to have some kind of physical touch with you

plus we can't forget the fact that he would want to be a "good husband" so he would start learning how to cook dinner, do the laundry correctly and always make sure to take care of you whether that means running you a hot bath after a long day, warming your favorite blanket for cuddles or baking sugar cookies

basically all the sweet stuff he'd always press kisses to your ring or when holding your hand, rub his thumb over the diamond as a reminder that this dream of his is really real

AND don't even get me started on the wedding planning he'd want to be a part of picking everything from the color scheme to flowers to the playlist and making sure everything about your special day together was absolutely perfect for both of you

also imagine this boy at the cake tasting or helping you address invitations for the wedding?? like COME ON

and i can just imagine you cuddling up to him every night before falling asleep and him quietly thanking you for making him the happiest man in the world

UGH OKAY MY HEART, WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS PLEASE

#asks #ask bre #concepts #concept night #shawn mendes #fluff #SO CUTE #I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH #lovely anon

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mountphoenixrp · 3 years

Photo

The Sunshine Festival is coming up fast! In preparation, you can find the program for the concert stage and market below!

Market Booths:

Blackforest Bakery Goods/Services: An array of pastries ranging from cookies, donuts, and cream puffs to cakes, large cinnamon rolls, and pies; along with refreshing lemonade. Specials: BOGO on all small pastries; cakes and pies are 40% off.

Blossoms of Yggdrasil Goods/Services: Handmade, customized flower crowns.

Charity Dunk Tank (run by Heather Rhodes) Goods/Services: Merman dunking! Test your strength with a Hi-Striker game that plunges our resident merman into a large vat of water. Specials: All proceeds go to the funding of two full scholarships to the university.

Crepe Stand (run by Marcel Wong) Goods/Services: Made-to-order dessert crepes.

Dr. Feelgoods’ Goods/Services: Glasses of limited edition house made ciders and wines in summery fruit flavors.

The Flower Mill Goods/Services: Iced Coffee with edible flower ice cubes and sun cake pops.

Fortune Telling Tent (run by Benzaiten) Goods/Services: Free palm readings and fortune telling.

Friendship Bracelet Booth (run by Lee Felix) Goods/Services: Handmade macrame and beaded friendship bracelets in a variety of colours!

Happy Berry Boutique Goods/Services: Cute accessories and clothing. Specials: Buy 3 get 1 free accessories, 15% off commissions ordered at the booth, free cartoon key chains.

Mukashi-Kara Sweets Shop Goods/Services: Sunshine/summer themed mochi and wagashi. Specials: Buy 2 get 1 free individual sweets, mini wagashi-shaping/mochi pounding workshops.

The Pits Goods/Services: Makeshift fighting ring for any interested fighters. Anybody interested in throwing a punch at Ares can pay $5 for the privilege. Specials: Anybody who can beat Ares gets the pot of money.

Tum Tum Express Goods/Services: Takeaway fast food, soft drinks, fresh fruits, and ice cream. Specials: Buy one get one free! Applied for hamburgers, all kinds of drinks, and ice cream. 20% discount for orders with 8 items or more.

Sweet Spot (Eros’ pop up chocolate and sweets booth) Goods/Services: Fine flower and fruit infused chocolates, light sweet confections and “love dust”. Target practice game with prizes for romantic dates! Specials: Specialty chocolates, dipped fruits, love advice.

Performers:

Arwyn Lachance, singing

Arwyn is singing a few song covers! Song Cover 1, Song Cover 2, Song Cover 3

Chiori Yako, singing and dancing

A short concert of her current most popular J-pop songs with backup dancers.

Invidia Duval, singing

Invidia will be singing a cover of JERZY's 'IN 2 U' with guest vocals by Ruyi Han.

Moon Byulyi, drums

Byulyi will be performing drum covers of Odd Eye, Backdoor, Blaze, Cry For Me and HWAA.

Woozi and Harper Song, musical and dance

The pair will perform two songs. "Take Me to Church" By Hozier and "Falling for You" by Shawn Mendes. Woozi will sing and play music, dressed in white pants and a black and white striped button up. Harper, dressed in white tights and a painted sun across his chest, will perform dances to the music. (Inspiration: X an X)

Please use this information to plot with as many people as you would like! Employees and performers can have threads where they are working/performing and threads during their days off at the festival, if you’d like.

There is no time limit for threads, but the event will only officially last a week, so make sure to start your threads or whatever else you have in mind once it begins!

Most importantly, of course, have fun!

#mp; event #mp; sunshine festival

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thegaytwentysomething · 4 years

Text

Top 5 Hit Pop Songs By Year (2008-2020)

2008

I Kissed a Girl - Katy Perry

Disturbia - Rihanna

Hot n Cold - Katy Perry

4 Minutes - Madonna feat. Justin Timberlake & Timbaland

Womanizer - Britney Spears

2009

Bad Romance - Lady Gaga

Poker Face - Lady Gaga

Just Dance - Lady Gaga

Paparazzi - Lady Gaga

LoveGame - Lady Gaga

2010

Teenage Dream - Katy Perry

Firework - Katy Perry

California Gurls - Katy Perry feat. Snoop Dogg

Telephone - Lady Gaga feat. Beyoncé

Alejandro - Lady Gaga

2011

Born This Way - Lady Gaga

E.T. - Katy Perry

Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.) - Katy Perry

Judas - Lady Gaga

Till The World Ends - Britney Spears

2012

Wide Awake - Katy Perry

Part of Me - Katy Perry

What Makes You Beautiful - One Direction

Die Young - Kesha

Where Have You Been - Rihanna

2013

Roar - Katy Perry

Applause - Lady Gaga

Sweet Nothing - Calvin Harris feat. Florence Welch

Royals - Lorde

Come & Get It - Selena Gomez

2014

Dark Horse - Katy Perry feat. Juicy J

Break Free - Ariana Grande

Shake It Off - Taylor Swift

Problem - Ariana Grande feat. Iggy Azalea

Blank Space - Taylor Swift

2015

Style - Taylor Swift

Hello - Adele

Drag Me Down - One Direction

Sugar - Maroon 5

Stitches - Shawn Mendes

2016

Side To Side - Ariana Grande feat. Nicki Minaj

Formation - Beyoncé

Cheap Thrills - Sia feat. Sean Paul

Cake by the Ocean - DNCE

Treat You Better - Shawn Mendes

2017

Chained to the Rhythm - Katy Perry feat. Skip Marley

There’s Nothing Holding Me Back - Shawn Mendes

Attention - Charlie Puth

Look What You Made Me Do - Taylor Swift

Sign of the Times - Harry Styles

2018

God Is a Woman - Ariana Grande

Thank U, Next - Ariana Grande

Havana - Camila Cabello feat. Young Thug

No Tears Left to Cry - Ariana Grande

New Rules - Dua Lipa

2019

7 Rings - Ariana Grande

Truth Hurts - Lizzo

You Need to Calm Down - Taylor Swift

Señorita - Shawn Mendes & Camila Cabello

If I Can’t Have You - Shawn Mendes

2020

Rain On Me - Lady Gaga & Ariana Grande

Adore You - Harry Styles

Stupid Love - Lady Gaga

Don’t Start Now - Dua Lipa

Blinding Lights - The Weeknd

#music #quarantine got me bored #lady gaga #katy perry #ariana grande

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2018shawn · 4 years

Text

baking in paris | sm

warnings: mentions of smut etc etc possibly swearing?? I also have NOT proof read don't come for me. should probably mention this is an au lol

word count: 2k ish

Summer in Paris was dreamy. The balance of the bright sun beaming down onto vibrant bodies mixed with the soft breeze that forced leaves to scatter down the street was the perfect setting and it was everything you dreamed of and more. Your thin, flimsy blinds were the only thing blocking the heated rays from filtering into your room, mostly because you didn’t want Gabriel across the road seeing your ta-ta’s in process of getting dressed.

Your apartment was simple, a beige and white colour pallet flowing throughout with a touch of fresh flowers ever so often from the local florist down the road from your café. The acoustic playlist was the soundtrack to your early morning, the smell of lemon drizzle cake filling your senses as you washed the dishes, the baking area currently looking like a flour explosion had gone off. The one thing that immediately sold this apartment to you was the double oven and large kitchen island that was more than ample for your baking experiments.

Today was your day off, which was very much needed because running a café in the height of tourist season was extremely tiring, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. As much as you needed the day off, waking up and baking a fresh batch of cakes for the café was your number one priority, because your shop didn’t get its reputation for nothing. It was almost mid-morning by the time you’d finish decorating both cakes, much precision and care going into each. Who said days off were for relaxing, right?

A knock on the door sounded, and you assumed it would just be the little old lady, Camille, across the hallway, who always moaned you played music too loud in a morning. You wiped your hands on the apron that covered your high waisted denim shorts as you padded over to the door, shouting at your device for the music to go down to volume two.

The other side of the door, Shawn stood with a loaf of baking parchment in one hand, his other shoved into his pocket after knocking on the door to number 10. When you swung the door open and stared into his chest, because you expected it to be Camille who was dramatically shorter than Shawn, he laughed and tucked his fingers under your chin, dragging your face upwards.

“Shawn…” You breathed, more than shocked at his presence. “Hi. What… How… Why aren’t you at the bakery?” You asked, because more often than not he did the morning shift in the bakery next to your café, setting up for his boss and making sure the savoury breakfasts were ready to fill tourists’ belly’s.

“My boss came in and it was ridiculously quiet, so I worked on some new stuff and he said I can take a break for a few hours.” He wafted the item he was holding, the smell of fresh, doughy bread overpowering the lemon drizzle coming from your kitchen. “And I would like a professional opinion.”

You offered him to come him, suddenly feeling nervous that he’d only been here twice before and both time you had drunkenly hooked up. He didn’t realise how authentic your small apartment was, but he remembered the balcony in your bedroom and how he’d fucked you over it late one night. You and Shawn were friends, you think, maybe something slightly more but nothing dramatic. Friends with benefits is what you would use to suit your relationship best, although you could count the amount of times you’ve been physically together on one hand. He was a real sweetheart, who moved over here for a breath of fresh air, just like you and that’s how the friendship started. It blossomed furthermore when he got job at the bakery next to your café, which was a bonus for him because it meant he didn’t have to fly straight back home after running out of money, and more so, it was a bonus for you because you got to see him almost every day and you’ve seen a lot worse views in your time.

He complimented the smell of your baking and you suddenly felt bad that he was bringing you goods and you had nothing to offer, so you gave him the bowl of left excess cake sponge to which he happily picked at. He sat down his parcel, perching himself on the bar stool at the kitchen island as you hoped up onto the island itself, your legs swinging over the edge.

“This looks insane!” You exclaimed, pulling open the baking paper to reveal a twisted bread dough, still warm and golden from a fresh bake. “Caramelised onion?”

“And brie.” He smiled, popping a chunk of lemon drizzle sponge in his mouth, enjoying every mouthful. Shawn loved how much you loved food and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him want to be better baker. He pestered you non-stop for a tutorial on your secret cakes and sweets, but if you told him that you’d have to kill him, obviously.

“My favourite.” You smiled, grabbing the two plates and knife you pulled out the cupboard.

“I know,” he took the knife from you, cutting into the bread softly, the outer layer cracking with a crunch but inside softly slicing perfectly. Your mouth juiced as your stomach growled and you became suddenly aware that you were too busy in the thought of feeding everyone else that you had not fed yourself this morning.

“Someone’s hungry” He laughed, standing up from the bar stool and walking in front of you, tapping your knee to usher you to open your legs wider. Once open, he slotted snuggly in between them and your breath hitched at the new contact of your thighs hugging someones hips - not just any hips either, Shawn’s hips. He picked up a slice of bread, which was light work for his massive hands, and brought it up to your lips. You wondered if he noticed your breathing was deeper since he’d moved in between you or if he noticed that you were biting your lip as you adored every small feature on his face.

Truth be told, he didn’t notice; only because he was too busy trying not to act like a complete loser in front of you, even though you’d seen him be a complete dork on many occasions. That’s what made him more endearing, you thought. The simple fact that someone can be so completely nerdy but so incredibly attractive at the same time and you had to remind yourself that he was just here for the summer. Attachment was not an option.

When you bit into the pillowy bread, your eyes closed shut, noting all the small little flavours that he’d added to the loaf, making the experience much more enjoyable than your normal breakfast routine. “Oh my god, Shawn. It’s amazing!”

“You think?”

“Uh, yeah!” you slapped his arm with the back of your hand, opening your mouth again to which he happily obliged, and fed you another bite. “Seriously, I don’t know why you don’t come work for me and we can take over the world.”

Shawn had to bite his tongue; they couldn’t take over the world, he was going home in less that 2 months and as much as he wanted to stay, he needed his home too. He innocently smiled, placing the bread back down on the plate which you stuck your bottom lip out at, feeling hungrier now you’d had a couple of bites. You leant back on your hands, forgetting about the covering of flour on the island behind you, instantly feeling the powdery ingredient under your touch. Your breasts stuck out as you leant backwards, Shawn using every inch of his willpower to not bring his lips down to them, your white bardot shirt revealing the upper half of your chest and contrasting against your tanned, summer skin. Underneath your apron lower down, he could see a slither of denim, and he knew how well you pulled of those exact shorts, even if he hadn’t seen you in them fully today. “Ooo, the thought of me working for you....” he laughed, arms reaching around and resting on the lower of your back in a bid to feel closer to you again. “Telling me what to doooooo...” He sang, pulling his mouth into a suggestive smirk.

“You’re such a sub, Shawn Mendes.” You laughed, throwing your head back, making a brief statement to your sex life and of course, he knew that. He wasn’t submissive, per se. In fact, there’d been a couple of time’s where he’d roughed you around that much you didn’t know if you were sleeping with the same guy. But truthfully, he’d be on his knees for you before you even had to ask and he’d never met anyone who had this effect on him.

He threw his hands up in defensive, only briefly removing them from your body before they returned to behind you. This time, you felt his hands put more pressure onto your body, your denim shorts sliding along the smooth island surface as he pulled you a touch closer. “Can you blame me? Have you seen yourself?”

“Pfft, have you seen yourself?!” You raised your eyebrows, instantly biting your lip to stop yourself from spilling anymore affection.

He stared into your eyes, trying to hold back a smile, “did you just compliment me?” he brought his palm to your forehead, switching in between the palm and back of his hand, “are you feeling okay? what did I put in that bread?!”

You used your body to help you lean your weight foreword, bringing one of your arms around and smacking him in the chest, a smoke of flour filling the air in between you. You had forgotten (kinda), and tried your best to act apologetic, gritting your teeth together as he switched his eyes in between the hand shaped, flour print on his black t-shirt and your -now- barely flour covered palm. Having no time to react at all, he reached behind you and scooped up and left over flour he could see before bringing his hand up to your face, cupping which despite the fact he was messing you up, you leaned into, squirming as he tickled the side of your neck. “You’re an ass, mine was an accident!” you squealed, trying your best to move away from him but his grasp too tight.

“Oh yeah?” he smirked, too concentrated on staring into your eyes to realise you were reaching back round for more flour. With a swift movement you brought your hands in front of you, blowing quickly at the ingredient in your palm. His eyes squinted closed and he screwed up and blew his lips, trying to get any taste out of his mouth.

“Yeah” You innocently shrugged, wiping your hands down your apron for probably the 60th time of today.

Moving closer to you, you laughed at his powdery face, although admired how pretty he still looked. You knew you’d get hell later when he tried to shower the flour out of his perfectly spiralled curls, but it was worth it. His lips hovered over yours, waiting to gauge a reaction from you and although you didn’t give him one, he pressed down onto you, letting out a breath of relief as your features locked. Your bodies were a mess of tangled, floury limbs and whimpering noises as you worked on each other, grabbing at whatever piece of each other you could. You pulled at his black t-shirt, aware you’d already messed it up and he tugged at the string of your apron, letting it fall loose besides your hips. You couldn’t help but think that Camille would soon be banging on your door, complaining of the noise that wasn’t from the music.

—

taglist: @imaginashawnns @fallinallincurls @mendesficsxbombay

#Shawn mendes #Shawn mendes smut #Shawn mendes blurb #Shawn mendes imagine #Shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes au

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heavenlyholland · 3 years

Note

what are your favorite songs !!

oh my gosh, anon... thank you for asking me this i literally love sharing my fav songs & music in general with people !!!

my fav music varies... because i love so many types of music, so i’ll give you a few from each genre !!

alternative:

- lost in yesterday: tame impala

- new person, same old mistakes: tame impala

- come as you are: nirvana

- 3 nights: dominic fike

- softcore: the nbhd

- void: the nbhd

- fangs: matt champion

- nights: frank ocean

- go: the black keys

- peach: kevin abstract

- inhale: duke dumont & ebenezer

r & b / soul:

- the entire free spirit album: khalid

- broken clocks: sza

- the weekend: sza

pop:

- blur: stellar

- kiss me more: doja cat ft. sza

- beautiful mistakes: maroon 5 & megan thee stallion

- carry out: timbaland ft. justin timberlake

- hit the lotto: airr

- santa maria: unomas & dj keidy

- the entire funk wav bounces vol. 1 album: calvin harris

- rain on me: lady gaga ft. ariana grande

rap:

- what’s new: megan thee stallion

- 3005: childish gambino

- ballin flossin: chance the rapper ft. shawn mendes

- patty cake: kodak black

i have so many more, but these are all from my one playlist that i listen to all the time on repeat, so yeah! you should definitely give these all a listen, especially all the alternative songs <3

#anon #liv answers #liv’s asks #music recs

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zankivich · 5 years

Text

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 8

a/n: I hope you didn’t think I’d make it quite so easy. A little pull and tug is worth it sometimes ya know? idk how much longer I’ll be around. Most people don’t engage with the fics anymore and Shawn isn’t really the Shawn I fell in love with anymore. Life just kind of sucks at the moment. But I’ve got this chapter already written so I thought I’d post it. If you liked it and actually want it to continue? I might recommend letting me know tbh. Bye.

Shawn’s point of view

The problem with taking a woman to Rome on the first date is that anything after that just seems silly. What exactly was he to do now? Invite her over to his apartment for sushi? Even he would walk out on that date! It didn’t help that the second they got back to New York, after a very long winded kiss goodbye, that she’d jumped right into preparation for the VMAs. That essentially meant he wasn’t going to see her for days, maybe weeks. VMA season sparked award season in general for the music industry. It might not exactly give an indication of Grammys, but with the award show always arriving right as the ellibility period for the more prestigious honor was ending, it meant that the VMAS was the beginning of the long haul to get your artist at the top of the charts and fucking keep them there. Which also meant that just like she was busy, so was he. The difference was she actually liked her job. And he had...oh how he hated his.

He’s sitting in a marketing meeting for Sarah Leone. Sarah Leone is his dad’s bid for best new artist of the year. Forget the fact that y/n had her secret weapon of Normani and Khalid on one management team, and that he sort of had a feeling she was going to do a solo album release directly before the grammy consideration deadline just to keep the industry on its toes, his dad was thoroughly convinced Sarah was his ticket. And in a lot of ways she was. Small town girl turned mega popstar in a little over a year, her debut album was set to make beautiful numbers. Unfortunately that wasn’t enough. His dad had a very direct line of vision and that vision was complete and total domination. So it wasn’t enough to have your music sell, he wanted his artists to be inescapable from the public eye. Enter this season’s publicity stunt: The MC.

His dad thought it was a clever way to reference Miley Cyrus. Back in the day he’d orchestrated Miley’s dating of a 20 year old when she was 16 to address her rebellious teen phase. What most people saw as a kid going off the rails, was actually a perfectly manipulated moment in pop history. Except the dick cake that lost her the walmart branding deal, that was all her unfortunately.

Sarah was supposed to be seen out and about with mysterious new “it” british singer, Ty Summers. He was 21. She turned 18 just months prior. The two had begun with a close knit friendship, and were now being guided through the early stage of good, whole-hearted, perfectly constructed, “love”. He peers down at one of the new stills for her headline of V magazine, and simply can’t believe she’s 18. The cover makes him uncomfortable, makes him feel icky. No one at the table notices. And his dad isn’t even there, because this is too low level for the kind of work he does anymore.

“Next, I want her in London for the UK press tour. We’ll have her position at Summers’ hotel for half of her stay. I want pap shots at dinner every night out of the week, and I want a prompt at the BBC interview to hint at their connection. We’ll take it from there.” Jaret, one of the senior managers rattled off. “Any questions?”

He twirled boredly in his chair far from interested in the inner workings of career management if none of it meant jack shit about what the artist actually wanted for their career. It felt like such a waste of his time.

“Quick question?” He sighed popping his pen slightly into the air.

“Yes, Mendes?”

“When does she sing?” He shrugged.

The room goes still. It’s a well known fact that Jaret runs the room. He runs the meetings, runs the decisions. He’s top dog on this particular client, and Shawn is merely there under his father’s orders as an informant and nothing more. He was there to make sure things ran smoothly, but he certainly wasn’t there to offer critique. Woops.

“And what exactly does that mean?” Jaret challenged.

Shawn simply shrugged. “Just seems like if we have a musical artist who we signed on the basis of her being able to sing, that we might at some point want that to be the focal point of her career. But you know, I could be wrong.”

“There’s just one thing wrong here Shawn...we did not sign anyone. I did. We don’t make decisions on the intricacies of her career. I do. You are simply a glorified intern. Nothing more, nothing less. And if you’re father wasn’t afraid you’d run off every two seconds I wouldn’t have to babysit your ass right now. So, why don’t you let the professionals determine next steps and play on the computer daddy bought you, or whatever it is you do?”

Ouch.

The room shifted from Jaret back to Shawn. No one went against Jaret. And yet Shawn was perhaps the most unpredictable thing about his father’s company at that point. Needless to say unpredictably was a hell of a thing.

“It must really upset you that I get paid more than you do doesn’t it?” He hummed.

Jaret’s face began to redden, his nerves tighter than his balls that Shawn had such a precarious grip on at the moment.

“Or does it upset you more that I could do your job better than you right now, today, without even the ability to hear the tonedeaf artists you sign that are just pretty enough and just old enough not to get your ass arrested?” He tilted his head in contemplation. “Perhaps it’s even that one time at the company Christmas party where your wife caught you screwing your secretary in your office and stopped crying long enough for me to make her cum before signing the divorce papers? But you’re right Jaret, I simply should just get back to daddy’s computer. My bad.”

“You little son of--”

“Big.” Shawn interrupted sliding smoothly from his chair and packing his shit up from the horrible meeting he’d had no interest in attending in the first place. “I’m big son of a bitch, Jaret. Just ask Sarah.”

Sarah of course being his wife. Ex wife of course. Ex wife number three if we’re being specific.

The door shuts close behind him to Jaret screaming and lurching across the table towards his empty chair. He’d probably hear about it from his dad later. But honestly who cared. Jaret was a creepy asshole, and he was always gonna be a creepy asshole. Sorry not sorry.

***

He’d be a little embarrassed at how aggressively he yanked at the door were it not for the hopeful look in her big brown eyes when he sees her for the first time. He can tell she’s had a long day because her hair is down out of its bun already, tiny spirals falling all around her face and cheeks. But, the way she falls into his arms is enough to make his whole entire day. Because it means that after all the shit she’d been through that day, she wanted to be with him. And that’s the only thing he cared about in the whole world.

“I missed you.” He sighed already capturing her lips in a kiss.

She hummed softly against him, fingers squeezing at his shoulders.

“Missed you too.”

He pushed the door shut with his foot, arms keeping her tucked tightly against him. He’s sure he’s smiling like a complete and total idiot but he can’t help it. It’s this new exciting thing where he no longer has to be afraid of how close he is to her, no longer has to hope he doesn’t stare too long. She knows. And not only does she know, but somehow she feels the same way. It felt like a dream.

He tugged her back towards his kitchen and helped her into a seat before he pulled out the leftovers from his own dinner where he “accidently” ordered for two.

“Tiana said you didn’t eat dinner.” He shrugged at her questioning gaze. “And this little italian place up the block always gives me more than I need.”

She bit her lip and peered from the container of chicken parm to him and back to the parm. He thought for a second she just might fight him on it. And then he remembered how much she liked to eat.

“You and Tiana conspiring against me must stop!” She snorted grabbing the fork clean from his hand to dig in.

He leaned against the granite counter with his chin propped on his hand. She was wonderful. And silly. And a little ridiculous. He kind of loved it.

“Yes, because making sure you consume more than coffee in a twelve hour period is definitely a conspiracy.”

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe so.”

“Maybe so.” He mimicked. “I missed the way you argue with me about everything. Feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

Her eyes got wide and bright and she turned a grin towards him that he practically ached to lick off. She was gorgeous.

“You missed me huh? The Shawn Mendes has fallen head first into a little monogamy moment has he?”

Sometimes he liked to think that her favorite past time was taking the piss out of him. It sure seemed that way.

He rolled his eyes back at her and butted his head softly into her neck.

“And what if I have?” He whispered softly. “You have too. Right?”

His nose skimmed along her neck and she shivered. He smiled against her skin. She’d fallen just as hard alright.

“Yea I guess so.” She mumbled.

He pulled back and pressed a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass to refill with water.

“You should eat up. You’re gonna need your strength.”

“Excuse me?”

He refilled her glass from the refrigerator and placed in front of her before leaning against the countertop again.

“Oh. I just meant that I plan to fuck you until the birds sing. I don’t want you getting tired on me before I’m done with you.”

His favorite past time was saying the wildest things he could come up with to her in the simplest voice possible and then watching the way it made her eyes bulge in her sockets. God he loved it.

This time she simply stuffed a breadstick in her mouth and hopped out of her seat to start taking her jacket off. It seemed she might be just as needy as he was.

“Yep! Okay. You can come get it now!”

“I’m comin’, baby.” He grinned lifting her up into his arms.

“Goddammit. Carbs and dick. It’s like my birthday or something!”

His bedroom is way too far away. They’ve gotta figure out a way to get there quicker. But he chuckles into her cleavage as he knocks them against walls to stop and kiss her. Her thighs mold to his waist, ass full in his hands. He’s stuck on her completely. And the worst part is that she knows it.

He lets her legs back down to the floor only to press her against the wall of his bedroom, lips, teeth, and tongue beginning a trail along her neck.

“You make me never wanna go back to go work ever again.” She whined, fingers tangling in his hair.

“I’d happily quit if we could stay in bed for the rest of forever.” He murmured.

“Don’t tempt me!”

Maybe he would.

“Mmmm speaking of work, how hard you gonna make my job for me this fall?” He hummed biting down on her lip to solicit a yelp that drove him crazy.

“What do you mean?” She asked, fingers already tugging at his belt.

“I’m supposed to believe Normani’s not releasing an album before awards season?”

Her fingers came to a stuttering stop, and he recognized that her kisses weren’t really kisses anymore. His eyes opened to meet hers and instead of the lust from just moments prior, there was...anger?

“What the fuck, Shawn?”

“W--What? What?” He mumbled reaching for her as she quickly stepped out of his arms.

“Why would you ask me that? Since when the hell do you care when my artists release music?”

He’s a little flustered and his dick is hard and her yelling at him when his dick is hard is only just adding to the complex array of emotions that his brain would surely need more blood to process.

“I--I don’t know! I thought that’s what couples did right? Like they--they ask each other about work and shit. What did I do?”

“Couples?” She paused, all of the steam leaving her like a deflated balloon. “Are we--we’re a couple?”

At this point he’s pretty sure she’s gonna give him a heart attack.

“I….Aren’t we?”

“I--I don’t know. I don’t know, we’ve only been on one fucking date, Shawn. And just because it was wonderful and beautiful and romantic doesn’t mean that you get to ask me questions like that. I just… Shit. I need space.”

“Space?”

His heart leapt a little in his chest. He’d said that word before. “Space”. When people said they needed space it always meant permanent. It meant separation. It meant losing her. And the effect that her words have on him is a little surprising, even though he’s not processing nearly fast enough to catch on. All he can hear, feel, think, breathe is her not wanting him. And in this moment of fragility for him he’s not quite sure how to cope.

“Wait. Just wait a second. I don’t even know what’s happening right now!” He cried his hands held up in surrender. “Let’s just talk. Let’s just talk for a second okay? Tell me what I did wrong and I’ll fix it.”

“No. I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’m going home. I--I’lll call you later.”

She sweeps right past him, her fingers re-buttoning the same buttons she had giggled when he’d undone just seconds ago. He’s so floored by what’s taking place and he’s got no idea how to fix it. How to make her happy. He just wants to make her happy. And he doesn’t want her to go.

“Y/n. Y/n, please? Alright, just talk to me.”

Her fingers slip through his when he reaches for her and just like that she’s gone. And it hurts. It hurts far more than he knows what to do with. What the fuck?

***

*Three days later*

*y/n’s point of view*

A foul mood did not begin to describe what you were in. Everyone had been steering completely clear of you and rightfully so. Anyone who dare breathe wrong in your direction would get an earful. It wasn’t your fault. You hadn’t exactly been sleeping well. Your stomach was in knots. You were stressed as hell. But, none of that was allowed to matter. You had work to do. So, everything else got placed on the backburner.

You’re in your office taking a twenty minute “get your shit together bitch” break when a knock sounds itself on your door. Tiana had been the only one with balls to knock on the door in days, so you had no doubt who it could be.

“Come in, Ti.” You sighed still leaning pathetically across your desk.

The door slides open and unless Tiana grew several feet and turned into a white man over night, it was certainly not your assistant standing there.

“Hi.” Shawn mumbled waving awkwardly in your direction.

He was in a suit again. But not one of the ones from the red carpet that would make your thighs tremble. This must be one of his work ones. It looks too restrictive on his body. He’s wearing a tie, and your fingers itch to remove it, to dishevel him back into the man that you knew. The worst part is that even in discomfort he doesn’t look real. He looks like an ad standing there at your doorway. An absolute vision to behold. You had to remind yourself that you were angry at him.

“How did you--What are you doing here? Shawn?”

He quickly closed the door and strode over to you, at least having the good grace to keep his distance to the chair in front of your desk.

“You didn’t answer any of my calls. Which is fine I guess. I get that maybe you need space but...I really hate what’s going on between us right now.” He mumbled.

His knee is bouncing. You only recognize this because it shakes your desk in a gentle hum. His fingers twist and turn anxiously on your desk as if he’s fighting the urge to reach out and touch your hand. His lips are stress bitten and his hair looks like it’s been the victim of an attack as well.

“Really?” You asked, leaning back slighting your chair in confusion.

He raised an eyebrow. “Yes, really. What did you think I was just out living my best life since you stormed out of my apartment at one am without a word and ignored me for three days?”

“No, I just...I just didn’t realize it would have this great of an effect on you. I guess I--I didn’t know you cared that much.”

“You didn’t know that I care that much? What the hell, y/n?” He groaned. “Why are you doing this right now?”

“Doing what?! What am I doing?”

“You’re pulling away. We sat there in Rome and you asked me to promise you that I was all in. And I am. And now you’re scared, is that it? You don’t know what it might look like for us to be together in the real world, so you’re pulling away from me.”

Well that was certainly a read. You were flustered. Your lips opened and shut around nothing but air as you sat there at a loss for words. It wasn’t conscious, or maybe on some level it was, but Shawn scared the hell out of you. Rome was a beautiful, beautiful bubble, but a bubble nonetheless. The second you got back to New York you couldn’t help but wonder if it would actually work a tall. You were still so different. And much as you liked him, and shit you really fucking liked him, it was terrifying to place yourself into new charted territory. You were scared of him. Of the two of you together. Of what it could mean. And he never even needed you to say it, he just knew it about you instantly.

“Look,” He sighed. “I still don’t really know what I did wrong. I know I probably sound like I’m being a little bitch right now but...shit y/n I just got you and I feel like I’m losing you already. Like you’re not even gonna give me a chance to try to make you happy. Is that how it’s gonna be? Cause if it is just tell me okay? Tell me what you want.”

“I don’t...I don’t know. Okay? I don’t know.” You mumbled

The look that he gives you tells you that this hurts him. That you not being a hundred percent in is painful. Everything was just moving so incredibly fast. One second you couldn’t fathom the idea that Shawn would even want to do more than fuck you, let alone be leading the charge your relationship. It was fast. All of it. And you? You were scared.

“Okay. Well I guess just call me when you figure it out.”

He got out of his seat and headed for the door only throwing you further off your game. You didn’t know much about what you wanted. You just knew that you didn’t want him mad at you, and you didn’t want him to leave. It didn’t help that a part of you felt like you should be leading this matter. You were older, you were the woman. Never had anyone cornered you in the manner that Shawn was in this moment. It was completely different than anything you’d ever experienced.

“Wait--shit. Shawn don’t leave.”

He shook his head. “It’s fine. You’re not ready, and I was. Just…Call when you figure things out. Maybe I’ll talk to you later.”

And just like that he’s gone. Fuck.

***

It’s another long night. You’re tired. You’re heart is heavy. Your ponytail is too tight. And you wanna go to bed. But you have no interest in sleeping alone, and therefore are stuck at your desk again. There’s three different contracts waiting your signature on your desk, but the words have begun to blur. You tell yourself it’s not because you’re crying because you definitely aren’t. It’s just cause you’re tired. Yes.

“Hey, it’s late I’m gonna---oh lord. I haven’t seen you cry since Michelle Obama smiled at you on a red carpet.” Tianna gasped.

You sniffled. “Bitch I am not crying. Go home.”

She rolled her eyes. “Denial or delusion. Your favorite pastimes. Come tell Titi what’s wrong while I’m still awake.”

She plopped herself in the chair opposite your desk and reached for the tissues on your desk to hand to you. You take one begrudgingly.

“You haven’t let me call you Titi since college.”

“Of course I haven’t, “She giggled. “What kind of grown ass woman walks around goin’ by Titi. Now stop deflecting.”

Best friends are no good. They know you too well. It makes it way too hard to hide.

“I….I think I fucked things up.”

“With Shawn you mean?”

You nod slowly.

“Yea, I saw him come out of your office lookin’ like a kicked puppy. I couldn't even get him to laugh for me before he left. You never really said what happened though.” She nudged gently.

A sigh passes through your lips that feels bone deep. Your fingers twitch anxiously against the desk. There’s nowhere to hide here. You just have to be truthful. It’s the worst.

“We...We decided to give it a go. And he took me to Rome, as your meddling ass knows, and it was the most amazing thing I could experience. It was everything I ever thought it would be but...he made it more. And I kept thinking that he was going to stop at some point. I don’t know I thought surely it was gonna work, because how could it you know?”

“No, not quite sis. I don’t know. Maybe you can explain it to me.”

You bite your lip and twitch anxiously.

“I asked him in Rome one of our last nights there if he was gonna be all in. We talked about race and white supremacy and I told him that I needed someone who could stand with me in all of it, not just when it is convenient.”

“And he said…?”

“Well the fucker said yes.” You huffed. “He promised it even.”

“Shit.” Tiana mumbled taking a pause herself. “I would’ve never called Shawn Mendes to be a social justice warrior.”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s far from it, now. He’s still a white boy. But he wanted to try. He was willing to try for me.”

“So you can see how maybe I’m missing the part where you fucked up. This sounds a little like a black girl’s love story come true.”

“I went over to his place and he offered me breadsticks and dick, in that order. But then when we were getting to it, he asked me about Normani, Ti. He asked if I was going to ‘make his job harder for him’ by having her release her album before award season.”

“Oh lord, that poor bastard didn’t even know what hit him.” She sighed.

“I’m serious Ti!” You groaned. “I’ve been here before. I’ve had the music exec who wanted to get into my pants just to know what we were doing in this building. I--I can’t go back there. You and I both know that there’s nothing Manny Mendes would love to see more than one his little white girls on top and my people failing on the bottom of the totem pole. We work too goddamn hard for me to lose it.”

Tiana paused for a minute and stared at you. Her eyes were soul searching, the way they tended to be. She was as lovely and amazing as she was terrifying. She knew you better than you knew yourself, and she never hesitated to call you on your bullshit. Even if you didn’t know it was bullshit. Especially when you didn’t know it was bullshit.

“Girl, I love you more than anyone I’ve ever met in my life, but you are truly exhausting.” She sighed and held her hand up as a means to silence you before you even spoke. “Now if you’re not ready for someone to potentially love and take care of you that’s one thing. But if you are intentionally sabotaging yourself because you’re scared you gotta knock it the fuck off.”

“But Ti--”

“No, ma’am. If that boy wanted to know when Normani’s album was dropping he did not need to take your ass to Rome to do it. You have been scorned by this industry more than most will ever recognize, and I know that, and I validate that. But you ain’t in a relationship with Manny Mendes. You’re not in a relationship with the industry. It’s Shawn. And that man hates his dad and his dad’s company more than you do. I love you, but you’re being a bit ridiculous.”

“...Fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed.” She hummed. “You keep doing this. You keep letting outside factors affect everything, and that’s not sustainable. You have to trust him. He has to trust you. That’s the only way it works.”

You peered at her with tired eyes. The kind of eyes that a woman who’d been scorned one time too many might have.

“But what if he hurts me?”

“Than we pick up the pieces. We work at it until your healed. But you don’t get the love without faith. You’ve got to put yourself out there, babe.”

And that is of course how you end up at his place at midnight on Friday nonetheless. Ti had practically ushered you off, offering to close up shop for the night if it meant you would finally leave the office. You’re still in your work jumpsuit with the too tight ponytail and the makeup that you couldn’t wait to take off. The code lets you easily without having to let him know that you’re there. Perhaps that’s why you finally get to hear him this time.

The doors of his fancy apparently are surely made of thicker wood, so he must be sitting right inside the living room. Regardless you hear it in this soft, muted kind of way. It’s an acoustic guitar, the plucking of his fingers just as rounded and full. It’s beautiful and rhythmic and it makes you pause, your fingers still resting on the door knob because then the mother fucker starts to sing.

Maybe I had too many drinks, but that's just what I needed

I hope that you don't think that what I'm saying sounds conceited

When I look across the room and you're staring right back at me

Like somebody told a joke and we're the only ones laughin'

You’re fingers grip tight at the door knob, you’re mind both seemingly filled with a million thoughts and yet too overwhelmed to process any of it. His door is unlocked though and when you stumble inside the vision in your head comes to life. He’s sat on his floor by the fireplace with a guitar you’ve never seen upon his lap. He’s wearing a white tanktop and black sweats. The rosary against his neck nestles against what looks like perfectly tamed chest hair. He is as unreal as ever. And yet somehow, somehow that is not the most astonishing part of everything around you in this moment.

He pops his head up towards you. His fingers don’t still on the guitar at all as he seems to pluck out the melody he’d sung just moments prior.

“Took you long enough. Almost like you were outside eavesdropping or something.” He hummed.

“I...How did you even know I was outside?” You stuttered.

“I get an alert every time someone enters my code. I don’t just wait around for you all the time ya know.”

Rude.

“You...You sing.”

He peered at you, fingers still moving, his head tilted just slightly to the side as if you were as confusing to him as he was to you.

“I sing.” He affirmed. “Is that okay?”

“How come--I mean you never said anything.” You frowned. “That--That song. You wrote that?”

He nodded slowly. “I’ve been given a bit of inspiration lately. Is that what you came here for? To bust me in my hobby?”

This changes things. And surely it wouldn’t have mattered because Ti’ had already convinced you to suck it the fuck up and come over, but the fact that he’s got music in him and never said anything matters. Because there’s a lot he could have asked for. A lot he could have tried to get from you, and he hadn’t. It really didn’t matter to him at all. You were just a fucking asshole.

It occurred to you that you were still standing in the middle of his doorway, so you closed the door and moved slowly near him. He set his guitar off to the side as you plopped one of his decorative pillows in the spot beside him and sat down. Without his guitar, Shawn was a lot more fidgety. He took to playing with his rings on his fingers again, eyes soft and vulnerable pointed in your direction.

“So...Is this it? You come here to end it?” He asked.

You took a deep breath. “No. I came here to apologize.”

His eyes flickered up to your face, a hint of hesitance to them.

“I’ve never heard you apologize in my life.”

You rolled your eyes and punched playfully at his arm, the chiseled muscle probably hurting you more than it hurt him. He wasn’t wrong.

“The truth is...When you asked me about Normani’s release I didn’t think of it as you wanting to know about my day. I didn’t think about it as you wanting to be kind to me at all. I sort of, maybe thought you were snooping trying to figure out a way that you could hurt me.” You admitted softly. “Because--well because that’s what I’ve experienced in the past. And that’s not an excuse but it just is...it’s what I was feeling.”

He squinted his nose up and it would’ve been cute had you not been so flustered.

“Wait, you thought I was gonna hurt you? How?” He asked turning more in your direction.

You winced. “Like...by maybe taking it to your dad. Knowing whether or not Normani’s gonna release would be really beneficial to him.”

There’s a range of emotions that cover his face. First confusion. Then acceptance. And then anger.

“Why would I ever do that to you? What have I ever said or done to make you think that I would choose allegiance to my dad of all people over you. I hate my job, y/n. I hate that company. You know that better than just about anyone.”

“I know! I know that. I just--fuck. You scare me okay!” You whined. “I haven’t been in a healthy relationship in years. I’ve been fucked over in my job, in my relationships, in life constantly. And I didn’t exactly walking into our arrangement expecting to find a relationship. I don’t know how to do this, Shawn. I don’t--I’m not sure I truly deserve it.”

You glanced down at the floor in worry and fear. You wanted it. God, you really wanted it. But, shit if you weren’t terrified to try.

When he crawls into your lap, you’re a little taken aback. For how tall that fucker is, he certainly could use an extra meal or two. But, there’s something about the reversal of his thighs bracketing your hips the way that yours would usually do to his. There’s something about the way his thumb soothes at your pulse point as his fingers rest on either side of your neck. There’s something about the way that he looks at you with tenderness and kindness. It’s a little unlike anything you’d ever quite felt before. And it makes you soften beneath him with ease, all the fire running out of you at once.

“You are...the most hard headed woman I’ve ever met.” He mumbled softly.

You smiled sheepishly. “That’s what my momma’s been telling me since I was born.”

“Well she’s right. But I’m kind of crazy about you. And I don’t like fighting with you. And I don’t like being mad at you, or you being mad at me. I just want to make you happy. This is the first time in my life where I feel like I can make some good out of anything. You feel...right. I like you, and I want to take care of you, and I’d like to have something where we can both give each other that. I’m just as scared as you are, okay? I don’t fucking know what I’m doing either. But I wanna try. Do you?”

Was it really that simple? Could it be that simple?

“I do. I really do.” You whispered.

“Good. That’s all I needed to hear. C’mere.”

For him, it could be.

His fingers knot in your ponytail and he tugs your lips to his with zero hesitation. After a shitty week of back and forth it feels good to not have to think for a while, to let his lips work over yours. He’s dominant even here with his tongue and his hands and his hips. He could’ve made it soft and gentle, but that’s not really what the two of you were about. Or was it?

“I’ve got leftovers in my fridge.” He murmured running his thumb along your bottom lip. “Did you eat dinner?”

You shake your head softly and he quickly climbs off your lap to tug you towards the kitchen. It doesn’t go unnoticed to you that his guitar stays behind in the living room.

“Are we ever gonna talk about the singing thing?”

“Maybe let’s do one heavy thing at a time, aye? I’ll tell you sometime. I promise. For now, do you want egg drop soup or pasta?”

You climbed into your seat at his kitchen counter and quickly tugged at your jacket and ponytail holder.

“Pasta. And one of these days I’m gonna teach your pasty ass how to cook.”

“Sure thing, babe.” He snorted. “I look forward to it.”

***

Permanent taglist

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

Arrangement Taglist:

@moonlightmendes22 @iloveshawnieboi@shawnsblue @cottoncandyshawn

@claredolphinbear24 @peterbrokenparker @shawnase@blackharry @shawnwyr @speakingofmari @moniehp@ydolansss

#shawn mendes #Shawn mendes fic #Shawn mendes fanfic #Shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes oneshot #Shawn Mendes x you #Shawn mendes x you #Shawn mendes x reader #Shawn mendes x black reader #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn #Arrangement fic #Shawn mendes x thick reader #Shawn mendes x black woman

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bensbuttercup · 5 years

Note

new years eve with Shawn!!

CLAIRE MY LOVE

moodboard requests are open!

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes: a cake pop #shawn mendes moodboard #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes cute #moodboard #anna’s moodboards #moodboard requests

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lonelyreputation · 3 years

Note

Not cheap vodka and red bull, tequila is his favourite drink of choice while partying. Specifically Don Julio 1942 if he feels fancy. The Don Julio 1942 was even a part of his birthday cake for his 21st birthday. It had all these random things he likes on it: a knife and cutting board with fruit because of healthy smoothies he makes/drinks, water cooker and tea, some protein shake brand. And all made out of cake and fondant. Just google search ‘Shawn Mendes 21st birthday cake’. It’s one of the first pics to pop up.

I feel like I’m getting a real Shawn Mendes education right now

#I have never seen his 21st birthday cake #maybe one day #ask #anon

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malecftw · 5 years

Text

Masterlist

Shawn Mendes:

Jackpot

Lazy morning (blurb)

Fights and cake pops

Homesick

Europe with Shawn

You have a fever

Taking care of you when you’re tipsy

Passing out during a workout

Misunderstandings

Never let you drown (TW)

Stranger things:

Accidentally getting hurt when Steve and Billy fight

Meeting Robin through Steve (S3 spoilers)

The flayed try to get to you but Billy saves you (Major S3 spoilers)

Hiking’s fun and all that - S. H. & B. H.

Baby Blues - B. H.

Being Billy’s twin and him being protective when Steve flirts with you

You get hurt trying to protect the kids - S. H.

Youtubers:

David Dobrik:

David teaching you how to drive in LA (HC)

Distractions

Colby Brock

Between Two Fires

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Having your wisdom teeth removed (HC)

When the Angel meets the Warlock (part 1) - N. S.

When the Angel meets the Warlock (part 2) - N. S.

When the Angel meets the Warlock (part 3) - N. S.

Cuddling with Nicholas (HC)

Chance Perdomo

What’s it like dating Chance Perdomo (HC)

It all worked out

MCU:

Peter Parker

Comforting you when you’re upset (HC)

Making pancakes with Peter (HC)

Peter helping you when you have a broken leg (HC)

Tom Holland:

The one where everyone celebrates

You’re sick (drabble ft Harry & Sam)

The Mortal Instruments - Shadowhunters:

Simon Lewis

You bring the speed, I’ll bring the stamina

Magnus Bane

Being Magnus’ little brother - General cast

Being Magnus’ little sister - General cast

The Maze Runner Trilogy

Saving Newt from the flare but paying the price

Impossible

Ben Hardy

Curvy girl fluff blurb

#masterlist #malecftw #stranger things imagine #shawn mendes imagine #mcu imagine #peter parker imagine #shadowhunters imagine #CAOS imagine #david dobrik imagine

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watchmegetobsessed · 5 years

Text

Lesson learned - Shawn Mendes

a little birthday edition to celebrate this cutie over here! also included some sibling fun with aaliyah, so be my guest for this oneshot!

word count: 2.1k

drabble list masterlist

He looks so much younger over the light of the candles on top of his cake, the whole table singing happy birthday to him as he is gently bobbing his head to the song, looking around his friends and family who came out to celebrate his big day. Karen holds up her phone, recording the whole thing and when the song ends and Shawn blows the candles out with everyone cheering for him she ends the video and reaching over she kisses his temple.

It’s not a wild party, we rented out the event room of a restaurant to make sure we have some privacy for a nice dinner and a light after party for only family and friends. It was Shawn’s wish. No surprise he doesn’t want the whole shebang since he has been on the road for months, tired of new places and seemingly endless nights.

“Happy birthday, babe,” you smile leaning closer to him, kissing his rosy cheek. He glances at you with the corners of his mouth curled up. His right hand finds its way to your thigh, rolling up your skirt a bit so he have more excess to your exposed skin.

“Thanks,” he smiles, pecking your lips shortly as he gives a gentle squeeze to your thigh under the table.

It’s a wholesome dinner, you keep chatting with Karen who is so overwhelmed that her son is now 21, Brian throws a few nasty jokes in making Shawn feel uncomfortable from time to time, but you think his blushing is cute.

“Hey,” Aaliyah grabs your attention when everyone is done eating and the room is nicely buzzing from the friendly chatters and laughter. “Can I have a sip?” she asks pointing at your glass of red wine you ordered earlier.

Normally you’d just give her the glass, but you don’t want to seem like a bad influence so you cautiously look around, unfortunately Shawn catches your eyes and steps to you.

“What are you guys scheming about?” he asks with a suspecting chuckle as he joins us at the table.

“Um—“ you start wondering if you should ask him for permission, but Aaliyah blurts it out before you could.

“Can I have some wine?”

You’re not sure what you expected from him, but you find it hilarious as he looks around in the room, walks over to the bar and returns with half a glass of red wine himself.

“Well, I would have been good with a sip from Y/N’s glass, but damn okay,” Aaliyah laughs to herself, reaching for the glass, but he pulls it back.

“Are you out of your mind? I’m not giving it to you until mom and dad doesn’t leave,” he scolds her taking a step to the side so he covers her from their parents before he hands her the glass. She takes a few sips, slowly tasting the liquor before he snatches the glass back nervously.

“It’s nice, velvety.”

“Like you know anything about wine,” he scoffs taking a sip from the drink as well. You just chuckle at them as you take your glass from the table too.

Karen, Manny and the older guests leave around eleven, saying that they want to let the young ones let loose peacefully. Cocktails and champagnes are getting served and you watch your boyfriend a bit hazily over your drink. He and Brian are laughing on something, Shawn’s rosy cheeks are extra red from the booze he has had, but he is still not drunk. His eyes move around the room until they find yours and a warm smile tints his lips as he wiggles his eyebrows at you making you laugh.

You slalom over to them and get in on the story Brian is telling him, Shawn’s arm immediately wrapping around your shoulders as he draws you close to his side.

“I don’t think I’ll ever go there again,” Brian finishes up the story and you share a laugh with them. He excuses himself seeing someone new arriving and Shawn turns to you smiling.

“Having fun?”

“Mhm, but it’s your birthday, are you having fun?” you ask him. It was his idea to have a chill evening, but you still want him to have a great time. After all, he is sipping on his first legal drinks.

“I’m always having fun when I’m with you,” he smirks as he leans down and presses his lips to yours.

You lounge around for a while, it’s almost one am and the people start saying goodbye. Shawn is talking with a few guys when you strategically go to the restroom before you head home. There are only two stalls and one is occupied so you head for the other one. After you’re done with your business you stop for a little at the mirror, checking yourself in case anyone decides to snap pictures of you leaving. As you try to get rid of the smudged eyeliner in the corner of your eyes you hear someone moan in the other stall and a moment later the person definitely puts out their dinner right into the toilet.

“Are you alright in there?” you ask worried. Some more moaning later a shoed foot appears under the door, the person is probably kneeling in front of the toilet and you almost decide to let them be when you recognize the nude pumps Aaliyah had on earlier.

“Aaliyah?” you ask with wide eyes. You push the door and luckily she forgot to lock it.

She is sitting on the floor, hair all messed up as she is focusing on her breathing.

“This… Is not what it seems,” she mumbles seeing you, but she looks horrible.

“Hey, what’s up? What happened?” you ask worried like shit. Pushing yourself through the small gap you get into the stall and squat down next to her.

“I think… I should head home,” she sighs deeply.

“Are you drunk?” Your eyes go wide at the realization. She really is drunk, so drunk she threw up!

“Um, a little?” she mumbles knitting her eyebrows together.

In a moment you text Shawn to come to the ladie’s restroom and while you wait for him you manage to scoop her up from the ground and bring her to the sink. You make her drink some cold water and wash her face as well, hoping the cold will help a little.

“Y/N?” Shawn’s voice speaks up at the door as he slowly pushes the door open. “Do you really want to do it in here?”

You roll your eyes and push a smile down at how he thought you want a quickie in the bathroom. When his head pops in and he sees Aaliyah leaning against the tiled wall, looking like a huge mess his eyes widen.

“Gross,” she groans and you’re happy she is conscious enough to react to his brother’s dirty comment.

“What the Hell? What happened to her?” he asks, terror in his eyes as he has no idea what to do with his drunk sister.

“Wanted to ask the same thing,” you scoff as you tap her face with a wet paper towel once again. “How much did you give her to drink?”

“Not this much!” he protest. “She drank like two glasses of wines and half of my beer.”

“Um, I also had a tequila with Brian after mom and dad left and Connor also might have given me a cocktail too. Or did I have two shots with Brian?” Aaliyah slurs. At least she knows what she drunk, more or less, but if it’s true, she had quite a few. The worst thing is that she drank at least three different kind of liquors and a mix always hits harder.

“Aaliyah!” Shawn snaps in disbelief. “How am I supposed to take you home like this?”

“Don’t take me home,” she groans in a painful tone.

“Oh my God,” Shawn growls running his hands up and down his face anxiously. “Okay, we are taking her home with us and I’ll tell mom she was just too tired to ride all the way home.”

“I just… wanna sleep,” she sighs closing her eyes as her head leans against the mirror.

“Yeah, no shit,” he mumbles before we work up a plan to take her out to the car.

Luckily, most of the guests are already gone when we bring her out. She is clearly trying her best to walk normally, but she needs all the help she can get from us not to trip. Shawn doesn’t miss the chance to tell his two best friends off for giving alcohol to his little sister before we throw her into a car and leave.

“That was harsh, you started giving her the wine,” you remind him from the passenger seat. He is at the back, Aaliyah against his side, passed out from the moment the car started moving beneath her.

“Don’t put all the blame on me!”

It’s a struggle to take her up to Shawn’s place, but you manage to reach his guest room and put her into bed. You pull her shoes off and take her jewelry off knowing it would be uncomfortable to sleep in her hoop earrings. Shawn draws a blanket over her while cursing under his breath big times.

“Don’t be too harsh on her, she is almost sixteen!” you tell him as the two of you stand next to the bed, watching her sleep.

“Exactly! Too young to get drunk!”

“Oh, how old were you when you first got drunk?” you arch an eyebrow at him, hands on your hips.

“Fifteen,” he mumbles.

“There you go. She is no worse than you were.”

“But she is a girl!” he protests and you roll your eyes.

“And what? Don’t be sexist. I was fifteen too when I first got drunk. At least she did it with us around.”

You pull Shawn out of the room, forcing him not to stare at her all night. When you return from the bathroom after your shower he is stretched out on the king sized bed, staring up at the ceiling in only his boxers, his cheeks still rosy from the drinks he has had.

“Hey there, old guy,” you tease him as you crawl to the bed and sit next to him, one hand on his stomach. He quickly brings one of his hands to his belly and laces your fingers together.

“Thanks for tonight,” he smiles up at you and he seems genuinely happy and it makes your heart flipping.

“Anything for my man.”

Leaning down you lock lips with him. It start sweet and soft, but soon turns into something more heated until your clothes end up on the floor and you kick his 21st off just the right way.

Aaliyah doesn’t come out of the guest room until noon. When she emerges you and Shawn are chilling on the couch in the living room, he is still answering birthday wishes while you read a bock, your head on his shoulder as he has one arm around you.

She has one of Shawn’s shirts and basketball shorts on that you left in the room for her, knowing she would want to change from her dress from last night.

“Look who’s alive!” Shawn teases her as she walks over to the armchair across us with a grimace on her face and plops down.

“Can you be a little quieter?” she pleads massaging her temples.

Putting your book aside you grab her an Advil and a glass of water from the kitchen and hand them to her.

“If you can’t handle the alcohol you shouldn’t drink. Lesson number one!”

Shawn is such a smart ass now, finding her misery entertaining, but last night he went full protective brother mode, even wanted to sleep with her, making sure she is okay through the night.

“Thanks, will remember next time,” she growls in annoyance.

“Stop teasing her,” you tell him smacking his chest gently as you sit back to the couch next to him.

“Covered your ass, but next time it’ll cost you a lot to keep my mouth shut.”

“Oh really?” Aaliyah rolls her eyes, not even threatened by his words. “Then I’ll tell them about that one time at Brian’s when you were so high that you sang My Heart Will Go On for an entire hour straight standing on the kitchen counter with a bucket on your head.”

You burst out in laughter because it’s one story you haven’t heard about but sounds ridiculous. Just imagining the scene is bringing tears to your eyes.

Shawn mumbles something under his breath about teenagers being a pain in the ass these days and you kiss his chin while he keeps up the grumpy act.

“Yeah, so I think we are even. Can your driver take me home in an hour?” she asks standing up.

“Sure,” he mumbles.

“Great! Thanks!” She throws a peace sign up before disappearing in the guest room, leaving his huffish brother mumbling to himself on the couch.

They are your favorite duo for a reason.

#shawn #mendes #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfics #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfictions #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes x reader #shawn 21 #mendes army

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shawnies-rihno-blog · 5 years

Text

They Don’t Know About Us

Part 1.

WC:5.7k

Where Shawn and Alisha end up falling for each other, but things aren’t easy for them because of their age difference, but also because Alisha is Aaliyah’s best friend.

Warnings: Cursing, Cat calling.

Enjoy! Thank you so much for reading!

---

Summer had finally started yesterday, well summer vacation. Alisha Ahmed was beyond excited to return to her father’s house, after living in her dorm for 9 straight months. She was more excited to come back home to Pickering.

Alisha Ahmed was an 18 year old, who had secured herself a spot in Werstern University, one of the best in Canada. She had gotten herself entangled with Medicine like her father and older brother. She had gotten through the first year of BSC (Bachelors of Science) with a lot of hard work and mental breakdowns.

When she got her exam marks back, it was like she was on a high. Her overall average was 98%, and she was beyond excited to tell her dad about her marks. She had driven all the way from London (in Canada), and she finally had reached Toronto, the skyline visible now.

After 4 hours of a non-stop drive, she decided to make a pit stop. She got off at Queens, and made her way through downtown, bad idea. Downtown was probably the worst place to go to at 6pm on a Friday, but Alisha was pretty stupid, atleast she said that herself.

She made a quick pit stop, filling up the gas in her car, and then heading to the Drake Coffee Shop, it was a thing, really. She spent a good 10 minutes finding herself a parking spot, not wanting a parking ticket, her dad would have yelled at her. After parking her white BMW series 4, courtesy of her father, she got out, walking towards the cafe.

Alisha Ahmed had become a woman in the past 9 months, she was a late bloomer, but boy did late blooming pay off. She was always gorgeous, but boys never looked at her, because she looked 16. But now Alisha Ahmed had the best of men begging to get in bed with her.

She was rocking low-waisted light washed jeans, with a salmon coloured tank top. Her curves looking inhumanely beautiful in those jeans, the tank top making her breasts look plump, as if they weren’t already.

Her brunette hair were embracing the summer wind and sun of Toronto. Her hair was let down, and even after 4 continuous hours of driving and sitting in one place, it still managed to look beautiful. Her hair reached until her lower back, and it was impressive how she managed to keep it healthy.

She walked into the coffeehouse, people giving her a weird look, it didn’t go unnoticed. Everyone was well dressed, girls in casual cocktail dresses, and guys in dress pants and shirts. “She didn’t belong” was the look she got from different girls about the same age as her, or older, she didn’t care.

She belonged in this world more than anyone with her father being one of the best Cardiologist in Canada, coming to places like this was common. Sure she was a bit undressed, well more than a bit, but that didn’t mean she didn’t understand every single person here, like the back of her hand.

She had grown up going to charity balls and fancy restaurants. She could judge people in places like these really quick, it was simple, their etiquettes and the look in their eyes gave it away. Alisha grew up quiet, she was known as shy, but she was just too busy understanding each and every person.

She ignored the looks given from the 20 year old’s in tight cocktail dresses, and headed to sit at a 2 person table. A waiter approached her as she got comfortable in her seat, she skimmed through the menu and ordered tea with some strawberry shortcake. The waiter placed a reserved card on the table, and left.

Alisha headed to the bathroom, freshening up. She reapplied her pink-tinted lipgloss and fixed her hair, re-parting it. She walked out of the bathroom, and she started getting that look again, from a different set of people this time. She didn’t know if it was either because she wasn’t white, or because she wasn’t dressed properly.

She went back to her table taking a seat.

Incoming. Daddy<3.

She picked up the call, her father’s voice flooding through the phone speaker.

“Hey baby! Did you reach yet?”

“Hi daddy! Um- no, I stopped downtown to grab coffee, but I’m in Toronto, prolly another hour and a half until I reach home,”

“Oh okay, well Samir texted me saying he’s gonna be home in ‘bout 30 minutes. I think Jack is with him too,”

“Oh okay, I’ll talk to Samir myself, are you still at work?”

“Oh yea, a heart arrived for a patient, it wasn’t supposed to come in until tomorrow, but the patient is really ill and his SATS are really low so I have to do the transplant right now. It’s probably gonna be another 6 hours or something.”

“Aw, shit. Well okay I’ll head home and then see you later, take care and don’t forget to eat an energy bar before you go inside the OR, and stay hydrated, please!” Alisha said, making sure her father took care of himself.

“Okay Jaan, take care of yourself, and drive safely, the traffic is really bad at this hour,” her father chuckled, making sure she took care of herself as well.

“Love you, bye.”

“Bye.”

Alisha put away her phone, and shortly after, her tea and cake arrived. She took in her presence and was deep in thought, noticing every tiny detail around her. She quickly started to judge people, well not judge, but understand them. She looked over to the perky mid 20 year old girls, their dresses to fit for their body, how do the breath? She questioned.

Rich fathers, probably lawyers or businessmen or something. Those girls were too full of themselves, they were caucaisan, tall, skinny legs, blonde, rich dads, why wouldn’t they be full of themselves. She thought.

She moved her gaze to another set of girls, boobs practically falling out of their dresses, dress a little too short, if you squint hard enough you could probably see what was underneath the dress. They were here to find a rich boyfriend, she thought.

She moved her gaze to a couple that looked like they were on their first date. The girl looked very uncomfortable, fake laughing at his probably really lame joke. God, save that girl, Alisha prayed silently.

Her cake halfway eaten, Alisha’s gaze now moved to the bar, there were barely any people there, but there was a man drinking away at 6pm, something sad probably happened, another guy sat a couple seats away from him, eyeing the perky girls dangerously, what a perv! She thought.

She finished her slice of cake, and started to sip her now warm tea, 2 men and a girl walked through the door taking a seat close to Alisha, she was far enough to not be able to hear their conversation, but close enough to get a clear view of both men.

The taller guy and the redheaded guy sat together, where they had a clear view of Alisha as well, while the girl sat opposite to the taller guy. The taller guy, with the brown curls falling on his forehead, looked familiar to Alisha, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

Samir: Where are you? Bro you were suppose to be home like 5 minutes ago.

Alisha: I’m downtown, drinking tea :)

Samir: Informing me wouldve been nice

Alisha: I’ll be home in an hour, chill.

Samir: k, tc.

Samir: Yo, Jack is over aswell

Samir: Anyways letting you know. K bye.

Alisha: okay! Tell him to not bring girls over, bye.

Samir: lol, bye <3

Alisha put her phone away for the second time, looking up to see the redhead staring at her. She looked back at him, she was bold, something a lot of people admire about her. He smiled at her, and Alisha rolled her eyes, going back to her tea.

A song faintly started playing, Alisha had heard it on the radio a couple of times, apparently it was the song of the summer. It was awfully sad for the summer, she thought, but she could care less about pop music. That song was also sung by her best friend's older brother, but she still couldn’t care less.

The redhead started freaking out, and now Alisha could hear him, “Shawn, dude, that's your song!” He exclaimed.

Oh, now I know why he seemed so familiar. He was Shawn Mendes, the famous guy from Pickering, he was also Aaliyah’s brother. She thought.

Shawn told the redhead to quiet down, but it was too late, one of the perky girl already exclaimed that Shawn Mendes was here. Alisha quickly finished her tea, calling over a waiter so she could pay.

About 5 girls surrounded Shawn, asking for pictures. Alisha rolled her eyes, not knowing what was so special about Shawn Mendes, he was a white boy who got famous over Vine. Typical.

The waiter brought back Alisha’s credit card with a receipt, and Alisha got up ready to leave. As Alisha grabbed her phone from the table, she quickly glanced at Shawn’s table again, Shawn looked back at her, locking eyes with Alisha for the first time since she was 10 and he was 14.

Alisha quickly moved her gaze elsewhere, and headed out the door.

----

Alisha walked through the front door of her father’s house, excited to finally be home. As she entered she saw a pair of Nike Air’s carelessly thrown on the ground. She picked them up and placed both the shoes together, shaking her head while doing so.

She dragged her tiny suitcase further, placing it beside the staircase. She headed upstairs, in hopes to find her brother. She reached the top of the staircase heading inside her brother’s childhood bedroom.

“Ew, what the hell is wrong with you!” She exclaimed as she saw Jack, her brother’s best friend, taking pictures in front of the mirror only in a pair of fitted boxers. Samir, her 26 year old brother, chuckled at her.

“I know you like what you see, babe,” Jack tried talking seductively.

“Watch yourself,” Samir said sternly, making sure Jack was well aware of his limits.

Alisha plopped herself on her brother’s bed, Samir shifted over to the other side of the double bed so Alisha had some space.

“How was the ride?” Samir questioned.

“Tiring,” she replied mindlessly, her eyes shut due to exhaustion.

“I told you I could come pick you up,” her brother spoke in an elderly tone.

“Well I made it,” she shifted her head, looking over at him while raising her eyebrow.

“I’ll drop you off, the drive is really long,” he replied back in a protective tone.

“We’ll see,”

Alisha shut her eyes again, and she almost found herself deep into her peaceful slumber, but Jack pushed her closer to Samir, and then plopped beside her.

Alisha moaned in distress, “It’s too small,”

“That’s what she said,” Jack commented.

“Shut up!” She replied back slapping his chest.

��Bro, has anyone realized Alisha finally looks like a woman and not a 10 year old kid. Did you get surgery or something,” Jack remarked.

“Shut Up, I don’t need ass and breast implants,” she said defensively, Samir only chuckling at her comment.

“Really?!” he said sarcastically, “The past fucking 5 years of my life were filled with my boobies are too small or why don’t I have an ass!” he said in a 6 year old girl tone.

“Shut up, we don’t talk about that!” Alisha became defensive again.

Jack had been Samir’s friend since they were 8. They both went through alot in life together, and they both were always there for eachother. Even though Jack had become a frat boy and endlessly fucked girls, Samir was still there being his rock. Both Samir and Jack were totally different people from when they were 16 or even 8, but they still stuck around, supporting each other.

Their friendship was similar to Alisha and Aaliyah’s. Both Alisha and Aaliyah had known each other since they were 5, both comfortable with each other since kindergarten. Alisha knew everything about Aaliyah, like how Aaliyah knew everything about Alisha.

Alisha stayed up talking to Aaliyah whenever Shawn left for tour, trying to help her find some peace. Alisha knew what it felt like being away from your older brother. She would be there for her, and if sometimes it meant being on call the whole night, then so be it.

Aaliyah was always there for her as well, supporting her no matter what, sometimes even through bad decisions. It was impossible to separate the both of them, and if both of them ever got in a fight, they found a way to make up.

Alisha’s phone started ringing, she got up and took her phone out of her butt pocket.

Incoming, Aaliyah Mendes, her phone read. She answered the call.

“HEY! Did you reach yet?!” Aaliyah exclaimed excitedly through the phone.

“Calm down! Ya, I’m with Samir right now,” she replied back.

“K, stay the night over at my house,”

“What no, it’s gonna be weird.”

“Why? you’ve stayed over so many times,” Aaliyah question, confused.

“Not when Shawn was over as well,” Alisha said in an obvious tone.

“Oh, he said that he was gonna spend the night over at his place, with his friends or something. The point is, he’s not there, come over!” Aaliyah explained.

“Okay, I’ll be over in an hour, I'm gonna take a shower and do whatever, but I'll see you then.”

“Okay, I’m with Jordan right now, I’ll probably be there when you get there. Also mum and dad aren’t here for tonight so we can have fun. Eeee,” Aaliyaah squealed.

“Haha, K seen you then,” Alisha ended the call chuckling, heading to take a shower.

----

Alisha ran towards Samir G Wagon in a hurry because of his constant honking. She opened the door sliding her backpack into the jeep, her following behind. She buckled herself, and fixed her hair, which was all over the place due to the running.

“What took you so long?!” Samir exclaimed.

“Let me be, my hair is still wet!” Alisha replied annoyed.

“You know if you chop of your hair it’s gonna be easier to dry,” Jack comments.

“Literally no one asked for your opinion Jack, also I’ve been growing this hair out since I was 13. I’m not gonna chop it off cus’ some white guy told me too,” Alisha snarks back.

“You’re white too,” Jack remarks.

“‘M not.”

“Yes you are. You try so fucking hard to be different than me but your just plain white,” Jack replied.

“I am not fucking white!” “Your mother was, so how are you not white? You literally sound like a fucking dumbass,”

“I don’t have a mother, never had one,” Alisha said.

“Both of you shut up! You guys act like 5 year olds!” Samir stopped both of them knowing this conversation was taking a bad turn.

Soon Samir pulled up in front of Mendes' household. Alisha texted a quick “I’m here” to Aaliyah.

“When did they get a G wagon?” Samir questioned.

“I don’t know, probably ‘Liyah’s friend of something,” Alisha replied mindlessly.

“Oh- anyways, Jack and I are gonna crash at our place after a party tonight, and i’m pretty sure dad is gonna be in surgery all night so no one’s gonna be home. So stay the night here and don’t fuck things up,” Samir told Alisha.

“I’m not gonna do anything,” Alisha pecked Samir’s cheek, about to get out of the car.

“Hey! I want a kiss too!” Jack exclaimed.

Alisha playfully rolled her eyes at him and pecked him aswell, “Take care, and stay away from girls like good muslim boys,” Alisha commented jokingly.

“Says you! Plus I’m not even muslim,” Jack replied.

Alisha and Samir both chuckled at Jack’s comment, Alisha bid a quick goodbye and got out of her brother’s car.

Alisha headed up the front steps, knocking on the door hoping to be met by Aaliyah. She stood at the front porch for a good twenty seconds, Samir already drove away. Alisha started to get annoyed now, furiously texting Aaliyaah, before she could even comprehend, the door flung open. Alisha headed inside without even looking up, but before she could enter she hit her face into something that felt like a brick wall.

Alisha slowly lifted her head, looking up to see a bare chest that looked like it belonged to a man. Alisha soon saw the face of the person who the chest belonged to. The infamous Shawn Mendes.

“Excuse me? Who are you? And what are you doing here?” Shawn questioned, he had grown since the last time Alisha saw him properly, his voice wasn’t high pitched like a squirrel now either.

“Um- what the fu-” Alisha was deeply confused, he wasn’t supposed to here.

“Ah! Did you stalk me to my house from the coffee shop? What do you want? a picture?” Shawn asked a little rudely.

“Oh fuck you! Who the fuck do you think you are!”

“Excuse me, you’re at my house.”

“For your information Mr. I’m too good for everyone, I’m Alisha Ahmed, Aaliyah’s best friend!” She replied angrily.

“Oh,” Shawn was taken aback, “You’ve grown, alot,” Shawn reluctantly said.

Alisha gave him her best petty smile, rolling her eyes after, “Is Aaliyah here?”

“Oh um, No. She’s out with a friend,” Shawn said heading to the kitchen.

“Ugh!” Alisha sat onto the couch, “Weren’t you supposed to not be here today?” she said distastefully.

“Um, excuse me?”

“Whatever,” Alisha rolled her eyes. “Can you put on a shirt?” Alisha said after awhile.

“Oh!” realisation hit Shawn, “Yea, I’m gonna do that,” and with that Shawn headed upstairs.

Alisha dialed Aaliyah, already pissed at her, because she was stuck with the one person she never really liked after he became famous. She thought that he had changed since the day he signed himself to a record label. She thought he tried too hard to be perfect, and with years of doing that he lost himself a little. Alisha never told anyone that, simply because her opinion didn’t matter, but also because she never really knew Shawn properly.

“Hey! Where the fuck are you?!” Alisha exclaimed through the phone speaker.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! We ended up going to get some food, omg I’m so sorry,” Aaliyah said guilty.

“Keep your fucking sorries to yourself!”

“Calm down, ‘Lisha, I’m gonna be back in an hour or 2,”

“Don’t fucking bother anymore!” Alisha uttered, clearly pissed.

She cut the call before she could hear more from her best friend. Alisha didn’t like when people cancelled on her, or made her wait. And Aaliyah knew that very well, so that just pissed Alisha even more.

Alisha made herself comfortable on the couch scrolling through her phone, Shawn never came back downstairs, probably to give Alisha some privacy. Alisha wanted to go home because she didn’t feel comfortable, but who would drop her off? And even though she would never say it out loud, she was scared of staying the night alone in her father’s large house. At least Shawn was here, and she felt a little safe having another person here with her.

Shawn came back downstairs after about 30 minutes later, helping himself with some food. “Hey, um I have pizza here if you want some,” Shawn spoke.

Alisha was hungry and a little bit of food wouldn't hurt anyone right? She got up, fixing her tank top and heading towards the kitchen. Shawn grabbed 2 slices for her, warming them up in the microwave. After a minute or so, Shawn grabbed the plate and placed it in front of her.

“Thank you,” Alisha mumbled.

“No problem,” Shawn smiled. He was wearing a white tank top with pajama pants, his curls messier than ever.

“Um, if you want I can drop you off at your home? Cus’ it’s been an hour or something since you’ve been here. You must be bored,” Shawn said taking a seat, a couple of seats away from her.

“Oh, No one’s home, so…” Alisha’s voice drifted at the end.

“Oh okay, Well um- Isn’t your brother here? I heard he was,” Shawn replied.

“Yea he is, but there was some on campus party so him and Jack went there, and they are probably gonna crash at their crib,” Alisha replied, taking a bite of her pizza after she finished.

“Jack? The same Jack from highschool?” Shawn asked, a little shocked.

“Oh um- Yea, Same old Jack,” Alisha smiled.

“Your dad let your brother be friends with Jack?” Shawn questioned.

“Well I mean- well they went through shit, both of them got messed up, but they got their life together so my dad doesn’t really care,” Alisha replied.

“So your brother goes to Med school at UFT, I know that, but what is Jack doing?” Shawn asked trying to keep a conversation.

“He’s in med school too,” Alisha replied, as if it was the most obvious answer.

“What?! Wow! That’s crazy!” Shawn said completely shocked.

“I know! Who would’ve thought 10 years ago that both of them would even graduate with the amount of suspensions both of them had. But now both of them are graduating in March, and my dad has already promised both of them a job at his hospital!” Alisha replied excitedly, proud of how far both of them had come.

“Good for them,” Shawn replied.

After that it got awkwardly silent again, Shawn got up and helped himself with another slice of pizza, putting one in Alisha’s plate too. Shawn warmed up the food giving Alisha her plate, and then sitting back on his seat.

“So what about you?” Shawn questioned, trying to keep a conversation.

“What about me?” Alisha chuckled.

“Well what uni do you go to? Or did you take a gap year like ‘Liyah?” Shawn questioned.

“Oh, well i’m in Westren doing BSC right now,”

“Science? Like your father? And brother?”

“Yea, I always liked Science,”

“Hmm, how’s London?” Shawn further questioned.

“Well crazy, I mean like at first it was kind of hard to settle cus’ I knew no one, and like dad and Samir weren’t there, but now I like it. Like I have my little friend group, who knows me and doesn’t judge me or I don’t know treat me like I have a super rich dad,” Alisha spoke, Shawn listened carefully, intrigued by the way she talked.

“Well I’m glad you found some good friends,”

“Are you though? You barely know me, so like you don’t care about me,” Alisha commented without thinking, instantly regretting what she said.

“Um-”

“I’m just kidding!” She exclaimed, hoping to make this less awkward.

Shawn chuckled, “So are you gonna become a surgeon like your dad and brother or are you interested in something else?”

“No, I wanna be a cardiologist like my dad, like it’s so cool just to hold a heart in your hand you know? Like because of you the person would be able to breath and live basically. I don’t know but like- just- like- like I don’t know but to hold a heart in my hand just fascinates me so much, but at the same time it just makes me more thankful,” Alisha rambled, Shawn loved how she spoke so passionately about her future, already knowing what she wanted to do in life.

“Well I know your gonna be as successful as your father, if not more,” Shawn smiled.

Alisha smiled, and then it got quiet again, not for long though.

“You know, I kinda never liked you, but now I’m starting to, I guess,” Alisha commented.

“Well I kinda got that idea when I was the only one you’d shoot with Nerf guns,” Shawn chuckled.

“What?! I only did that cus’- okay yea whatever.”

“Well I’m glad, Thank you for the honour Ms. Ahmed,” Shawn got up from his seat and bowed down. Alisha’s laughter filling the air, Shawn smiling because he loved when people smiled because of him.

Shawn grabbed the plated placing them in the dishwasher. “Oh by the way, a couple of my friends are coming over in about ten, so if you wanna go upstairs in Aaliyah’s room or something you can, or you can stay down here, your choice, but most of them are guys and older than you so I don’t think you’d be comfortable, but it's your choice,” Shawn rambled.

“Um yea, I’ll be upstairs in ‘Liyah’s room,” Alisha said grabbing her backpack and heading up the stairs, she stopped mid way though, “thanks for the food,” she smiled at Shawn.

“Oh no problem,” Shawn chuckled.

Alisha made herself comfortable in Aaliyah’s bed. She laid there watching a movie on Aaliyah’s macbook. She flipped through instagram stories and twitter. Soon she started talking to her friend from London, he was from Toronto, which was close to Alisha’s hometown, But he wasn’t going to come back until Monday, due to some party he was attending. He invited her to it, but she kindly rejected, longing to go home.

Before she knew it 2 hours had already passed, Alisha bid Lucas, her friend, goodbye. Her phone soon showed the low battery sign. Alisha looked for a charger everywhere, knowing she had it with her before, but realisation hit her, it was downstairs.

Alisha thought about letting her phone die, dreading to go downstairs, but soon she decided against it and headed downstairs, still in her jeans and tank top. She heard guys laughing, some girls too, but not many.

As she reached the living room, Shawn noticed her presence, “Um, sorry I just wanted to get my charger,” Alisha said to him, but before Shawn could talk another guy spoke.

“Oh my man! You brought that girl home! I told you she was hot!” That guy whistled at the end. Alisha turned her head to see who was speaking. A red head came into her view, the same guy from the cafe who smiled at her.

“Um excuse me?” Alisha questioned, totally taken aback.

“Bria-” Shawn was cut off.

“Oh I saw you at the cafe, you looked really hot and Shawn brought you home, so just congratulating him on his win, Mans is finally gonna get some,” that guy spoke, the room dead silent.

“What are y-” Alisha was interrupted by a blonde girl.

“Bri, boo you find her hot, what are you looking through, the trash can or something,” the girl snarked, her voice so screechy, it made Alisha cringe.

She hoped Shawn would stop the clownery, but he didn’t.

“Nah, like a one night stand thing, like look at her body, I’d want her to be on top of me,” that guy spoke again. Alisha had never felt more disgusted and uncomfortable. The redhead got up and stepped closer to her.

Never in a million years did Alisha think she’d be this disgusted by the human kind. The way he was commenting on her body, as if it was a doll, if it were fake or something. She kept begging God for Shawn to speak up, but he never did, he only told the guy to sit back down.

“Your really pretty, let me know if I can hit you up,” he spoke again, and that was the last string for Alisha, she wasn’t known for taking people’s shit, and she wasn’t going to right now, either.

She slapped the red head across the face, everyone gasped, definitely taken aback by her certain rage. The guy was definitely taken aback, his hand holding his cheek, the effect causing him to step back.

“They only thing you’d every fuck is a fucking toy! You fucking idiot. You know really just please kill yourself, it’s better for the world!” Alisha ragged, “Don’t you ever fucking talk to me or any other girl like this ever,” She stepped closer to him grabbing his jaw hardly and then pushing him away. “Fucking pervert,” and with that Alisha grabbed her charger and started walking back to Aaliyah’s room.

Shawn was definitely taken aback by this, he never thought a girl as sweet as her could be this rough too, and with the redness of Brian’s cheek it definitely looked like she slapped him hard.

Before Alisha went up the staircase she spoke up, looking Shawn dead in the eye, “You know, I thought you weren’t so horrible afterall and boy was I wrong, your a fucking pussy, can’t even tell your friend to shut up. I have never in my life disliked a person more than I dislike you right now!” Alisha exclaimed harshly.

She headed upstairs throwing the charger on the floor, suddenly not caring about it anymore. She got into the bed, wrapping herself inside Aaliyah’s blanket, quietly sobbing until sleep overtook her.

----

Alisha woke up to someone next to her in bed, she moved her head to get a better view, Aaliyah. She got out of bed, still in her jeans. She went into the bathroom brushing her teeth washing her face, her eyes puffy from last night. She got out of the bathroom, grabbing her phone. She tried turning it on, but it was dead. She grabbed her charger which was now placed on Aaliyah’s study table. She put her phone on charge hoping her phone would turn on sooner.

While her phone charged, Alisha grabbed her stuff and stuffing it in her bag. Soon her phone turned on, and she quickly called the one person she could trust right now.

“Hey, where are you?”

“We just came back to your dad’s house, why?”

“Where’s Sam?”

“He’s went back to sleep, he got shit faced last night.”

“Jack… can you please come pick me up,” Alisha spoke quietly, a gentle sob let her mouth.

“You okay?”

“Please. just hurry up,” she whispered.

“Yea I’m getting in the car right now, I’ll be there in 5.” Alisha ended the call, wiping away the few droplets of tears that fell on her cheek. She grabbed her bag and then headed downstairs. She heard Karen talking, Shawn replying back to her.

As Alisha reached the bottom of the stairs, Karen greeted her, “Hey ‘Lisha come here. I haven’t seen you in so long!”

Alisha put her bag down, heading over to Karen and hugging her. “Come have breakfast with us,” Karen pulled away.

“Oh um- no it’s okay, thank you, though!”

“Shawn I don’t know if you met her when she came over yesterday, but this is Alisha, she’s all grown, just look at her,” Karen spoke. Shawn looked over, slightly smiling, testing the waters. Alisha didn’t smile back though, instead she turned her face away from him.

“Karen, how is Aunt Becky’s daughter?” She asked, changing the topic.

“Oh she is doing much better, I think your brother talked to her or something. That’s was Becky told me,” Karen replied.

“Wait he did?!”

“You know he has come really far, I’m so proud of him.”

“Trust me I’m more proud.”

Karen smiled at Alisha’s comment. Aaliyah walked down the stairs saying good morning to everyone. Alisha ignored it, and went on her phone.

“ ‘Lisha, Morning?” Aaliyah questioned.

Alisha still ignored her, Aaliyah looked at her mother worriedly. This time Shawn tried starting a conversation.

“Hey Alisha, want this pancake? I made it myself,” Shawn spoke sweetly.

“Well then you can gladly shove it up your ass,” Alisha replied twice as sweetly. She got up, grabbing her bag. “Karen, I’ll visit you later, cus’ I actually have so much to tell you and I missed you a little too much. Also I’ll want your cookies so…” She continued. She quickly hugged her, “I should get going cus’ Jack is waiting for me, Bye.”

“I’ll walk you to the door,” Aaliyah spoke.

“I can walk by myself,” Alisha replied, Aaliyah taken aback.

“K, then I will,” Shawn spoke as he got up from his seat.

“Just please, I don’t need favours from you, especially,” and with that Alisha walked out the door.

Karen was confused as ever, not knowing what happened. “Guys what did you do, she literally the sweetest person you can meet?” she questioned.

“I came home late, she was waiting for me, she’s probably pissed at me cus’ of that,” Aaliyah spoke.

Shawn got up and walked up to the window with Aaliyah following behind him. As he reached the window, he got a view of Alisha hugging Jack, and sobbing. Jack was holding her tight, not letting her go, but his face was full of rage.

“Shawn what’d you do? I know her, she wouldn’t cry cus’ I stood her up,” Aaliyah spoke.

“Nothing,” he spoke.

“Don’t lie!” Aaliyah yelled at her older brother.

“Brian cat called her last night, he said how he’d like her on top of him, and she slapped him and then she went upstairs,” Shawn spoke quietly.

“You’ve got to be fucking shitting me!” Aaliyah spoke angrily.

“ ‘Liyah, I-”

“Do you even know the kinds of people her brother and Jack know! If they want they can kill Brian or make sure he at least ends up in a hospital!” She spoke worriedly.

“She said they didn’t do that shit anymore?” Shawn questioned.

“And that doesn’t change the fact they still talk to those people! Shawn Samir and Jack basically grew up with those hood gangsters. And I know for a fact that those people would do anything to keep Alisha safe!” Aaliyah said, “There was a fucking guy in grade 11 who wouldn’t stop bothering her and she literally fucking told her brother and before anyone knew that guy was in the frickin’ hospital,” She continued.

“Well, What am I supposed to do about that?”

“Well you better hope she doesn’t tell anyone!” Aaliyah exclaimed.

“Do you think-” “Yes Shawn, she was fucking crying! Alisha never cries!”

“You guys better apologize to her,” Karen spoke.

Shawn sat back in his seat, deep in thought. He thought about yesterday’s events. He didn’t want to be, but he was intrigued by her. He always saw Alisha as his baby sister’s best friend, but there was so much to her. Shawn didn’t want to admit it, because it was wrong, but her powerful personality attracted him. And as hard as he tried pushing her out of his mind, she just came back invading his thoughts stronger each time.

----

Thank you so much for reading up until the end! I hope you liked it, I cant wait to write more part. also leave feeback, It would mean alot xx.

#shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes masterlist #fanfiction

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