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hputh91-blog · 6 years ago

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Princess

Y/N finds out that Shawn calls her princess because of his inability to get over his ex, whom he also called princess.

Very angsty

Word Count: 4K

“Hello princess.”

A pair of warm lips presses against Y/N’s forehead. The second she feels the light from the window glare through onto her tired eyes, she rushes to lift the sheets onto her face to hide herself from the painful rays.

Shawn laughs at her actions, swiftly lifting them before climbing in under the sheets right next to her. He grabs at her waist, and just as she thinks he’s about to pull her into him like he always does, he instead squeezes at her sides, making her laugh and jump up out of the sheets.

“Shawn!” She squeals, grabbing the nearest pillow to hit at him with the fluffy material. He flinches at the crisp material thudding against his bare chest, grabbing the pillow under his head and sitting up. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers, allowing Y/N to admire the tattoos along his arms.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He raises the pillow in his grasp. Y/N widens her eyes, slowly backing away from the bed and then quickly sprinting into the restroom before Shawn can catch up to her.

“I’ll get you back princess!”

Y/N is flipping pancakes on the stove, spatula in one hand and the handle of the pan in the other as she focuses on turning the pancakes golden brown. The smell of buttery goodness fills the air and her stomach grumbles.

“Something smells fucking amazing.” Shawn declares as he jogs out of his bedroom, finally wearing some shorts but still lacking a shirt. Y/N didn’t mind, though.

“Morning princess.” He lays a kiss to her lips, their lips making a small smacking sound as they both pull apart. Y/N smells the scent of coconut body wash on him, the same kind she’s just recently purchased and placed in his bathroom.

“Shawn, did you use my body wash?” She humors. Looking behind her, she realizes he stands frozen, the water bottle he was going to drink out of frozen in mid air as he searches for words to speak.

“…no?” He tries to reason, even though they both already know the answer to her question.

“You’re adorable.” She presses on, poking at his toned stomach before turning back around to flip at her pancakes.

When she pours the last of the batter into the pan, she throws the dirty bowl into the sink to be washed later. Shawn leans onto the counter, eyes switching from admiring her to flicking onto his phone.

“Do you have any plans today?” He asks, breaking the comfortable silence. Y/N watched bubbles form on the uncooked side of the pancakes and begins lifting the edges of the floppy disk up.

“No, I think I finished all of my homework yesterday. Why?”

Shawn leans forward, wrapping one arm around her waist as he elaborates, “My friends are hosting a little get together, and Brian can’t have it at his place because his brother is coming into town. I thought maybe I could host it here? Unless you’d be uncomfortable with that. In which case I definitely won’t.”

Y/N is quick to respond, “No, Shawn, it’s your place. Of course you can host it here, you shouldn’t even have to ask.” She smiles, tilting her head up to stare at him. He nudges their noses together softly and Y/N almost feels like awwing at his cuteness.

“I can’t wait for you to meet my friends.” He tells her, his lips brushing against hers at their proximity. She lets out a hum of approval, tilting her head forwards to flip the final pancake. She figures the remaining heat from the pan will cook it, and reaches forward to switch the heat off.

After she flops the final pancake onto the stack, she walks over to place it in the center of the table. She grabs the pitcher of syrup from the counter, and sits in the heavy chair that she’s sure probably costed an unreasonable amount.

“So what are they like?” She asks. Shawn raises an eyebrow, looking at her in confusion before she elaborates.

“Your friends, tell me about them.”

Shawn’s face quickly switches in realization as he smiles and begins speaking.

“Well they’re the best. I mean, i’ve been friends with them since I was practically a baby. Brian, Matt, and Ian all go to Trent. And they can be just a tad bit stupid, but so can all college guys, so just forgive them if they act a little off.”

“They may bring some of their own college friends who I don’t even know, but if they’re anything like the boys they’ll be cool with whatever.”

Y/N giggles, cutting into her stack of syrup soaked pancakes before replying, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just a bit nervous.”

“You’re amazing baby, I know they’ll love you.” He reaches across the table, one hand lifting a forkful of pancakes up to his lips as the other grips her slim fingers in his own. She reaches for the can of whipped cream, spraying some all over her pancakes and then pressing the nozzle onto her lips and spraying some into her mouth.

He leans across the table, long legs making him able to press his lips to here that are lined with whipped cream.

“You missed a spot, princess.”

People start crowding in at around 7. A few boys show up with two six packs of beer and some glass bottles of different colored liquids. Y/N stands near the kitchen counter, lingering as everyone converses. They all know each other, and Shawn’s disappeared into the crowd of people, so Y/N shyly sips at the glass of bitter liquid in front of her.

Most of his friends, including Shawn, seem to be seated on the couch, laughing away at their old high school memories. Just as they’re done discussing a particular high school hockey game, she notices Shawn motioning towards her.

Not knowing what else to do, she walks over to where he’s seated on the couch, resting her hands on his relaxed shoulders.

“We met a few months ago and I didn’t grow the balls to ask her out until a month ago, she’s kind so don’t try to corrupt her like I know you all will do.” He shoots a playful glare at his friends and they let out friendly insults towards him.

“Nice to meet you.” She pathetically and awkwardly waves, immediately cursing herself after. Shawn grabs at her hands on his shoulders, pulling them forwards to kiss one of her knuckles before intertwining his fingers with hers around his neck.

The two of them stay like that for a while. Shawn’s friends talk about a number of subjects, Starting from Ian’s first kiss in 6th grade, to the time Brian got drunk for the first time and threw up the next day in one of the biology beakers from his hangover. Y/N laughs along with them, not conversing but absorbing the moment. She hears a small buzzing sound and her eyes shoot down to where Shawn’s phone is buzzing from a phone call.

“Excuse me gentlemen.” Shawn says, lifting himself from the center of the leather couch while using Ian and Matt’s knees for support.

“I’ll be right back, princess.” He tells Y/N, leaning forward to give her a peck on the lips. She lingers on the way how lips are soft, and slightly tainted with the taste of cheap beer.

When he walks away, she notices two girls at the corner of the room shooting her a confused look while talking amongst each other. She notices that the look doesn’t look disgusted, or angry, just simply confused.

She walks to the kitchen area, trying to wash the regrettable taste of whiskey off of her lips. Just as she’s poured herself a glass of water, one of the girls from before walks into the kitchen.

“Would you mind pouring me a glass as well?” She asks politely. She’s beautiful, short brown locks framing her small face perfectly. Her baggy button up shirt is fashionably tucked into her baggy jeans.

“No problem.” Y/N smiles, she could use a friend, especially one who was close to Shawn as well. She knew she’d be going to more of these ‘get togethers’ (excuses for friends to get drunk and talk about the dumb things they did in high school), and it would be good if she had people aside from her own thoughts to interact with.

She quickly fills a clear glass with water, handing it over to the girl who towers over her by a few inches.

“Y/N? I think your name was?” She asks, making small talk.

Y/N takes a sip of her drink, “Yeah, I don’t think I caught your name though.”

“Oh, it’s fine.” She laughs, “I’m Leah. And I was going to say I love your name, it’s beautiful.” She compliments sweetly. Y/N smiles, thanking her before asking her how she’s doing.

“Oh, m’alright. Finals week is really kicking everyone’s ass but I finished last week so i’m just a little less stressed than everyone else.” Y/N nods, her having studies for upwards of five hours the day before. Luckily Shawn had made her dinner, and reminded her to eat between study breaks.

They continue talking to each other about simple things. Y/N learns Leah was one of Shawn’s close friends from back home, and Leah dishes on all of the embarrassing things Shawn did as a child. She talks about the time he fell off of the tree that was in the playground of the elementary school, and how all the other kids praised him for his bravery. About how they all called him curly for a year in high school from the change in his hair, something he hates remembering.

“Shawn’s the sweetest. Did I tell you about the time he accidentally dropped an entire cake on Belle? It was their anniversary too, poor thing.” She laughs, “Probably why she dumped him.”

Y/N laughs initially, the realization not hitting her yet. But then she backtracks on Leah’s words and she can’t help but question, “Belle?”

Leah, who’s clearly just a bit tipsy as she’s been sipping on gin all night, answer quickly “Yeah, the model girl Shawn dated. Really kind, brunette, models in LA.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her thoughts jumbling up. As far as she was concerned, she’d never heard of Shawn dating a girl named Belle before. She was familiar with Lauren, his first real girlfriend, and she was familiar with his publicity relationships and his flings, but not with this girl.

“You know, I assumed he had a type. She was so incredibly nice and he’d always be wrapping his arms around her and PDA-ing at all of our get togethers. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t adorable, really reminds me of you two actually.” Y/N knows Leah doesn’t mean to deepen her confusion, as she continues to senselessly ramble without knowing what she’s saying.

“Weird. Shawn’s never mentioned her to me.” Y/N quietly says, staring at the floor tiles and shuffling with her sock clad feet. Shawn hadn’t ever even mentioned the name before.

“I think we were all a bit surprised when he mentioned he’d been dating a girl for a whole month. Belle dumped him, what was it? 2 months ago I think?” She sips at her glass again, “He was devastated, Brian told me he even thought he loved her.”

Leah reaches for a different glass, one with a caramel colored liquid and she pours it into what was initially her water glass, “Want a pour?” She asks hazily. Y/N shakes her head, her mind hurting from processing all of the new information.

“I’ve never heard of her before.” Y/N doesn’t want to face the facts but it seems as if they’re laid out right in front of her. She can’t help it when her stomach twists up into knots, soaking up the information.

He’d started talking to her around two months ago. They’d become official in just a month, Y/N knew that there was no way he would’ve completely gotten over a girl in that time, especially one who seemed that serious.

“And he calls you princess too, that was so…” Leah stumbles on her words, slurring a bit, “…confusing”

“Why’s that?” Shawn had called her that for as long as she remembered. She could recall him opening the door to his jeep for her on the first date and calling her by the name, could remember him sneaking up behind her on dates and calling her that name.

“Well, you see Belle is the name of a Disney princess. Belle loved those movies, that’s why he called her that.” Leah explains, and Y/N can feel her heart practically break. She doesn’t want to believe it, really doesn’t, but she can’t help herself.

“He even took her to Disney world for her birthday. He’d call her that so much that people would think her name was actually princess.” Leah laughs to herself, “And it’s like…like..you two are so similar and now he calls you that too?” Her eyebrows raise, “Awkward.”

Y/N doesn’t listen to any more before shuffling quickly out of the kitchen into the living room where his friends are all drunkenly singing along to some song on his couch. Her fingers are shaking with fear, and she tries not to showcase it by tucking her hands into her pockets.

“Have any of you seen Shawn?” She asks, and all of them are too inebriated to give her an answer. They continue either talking, laughing a bit too loudly, or singing along to the out of date song.

“Haven’t seen him since he picked up that phone call.” Geoff tells her, his arm around a skinny blonde woman. They seem to be sober enough to keep their minds intact, and Y/N walks towards the door to Shawn’s bedroom, hearing his voice speak.

She stops, pressing her ear onto the crack of the door softly.

“I thought you would be here”

Y/N isn’t sure who he’s talking to, but she mentally battles inside her head whether she should barge in or not. On one hand, her mind is practically exploding with thought, but on the other, she wants to talk with her boyfriend to discuss things with him.

“You’re in Toronto right? When do you go back to LA?”

She snaps out of her thoughts, listening in more intently on his conversation. She knows she shouldn’t be doing this, eavesdropping on her boyfriend’s conversation, but she catches herself looking for answers.

“Princess, everyone wants you here.” She hears him say and her heart breaks just a little bit. She unwillingly feels tears well up in her eyes, hand shooting up to her head as she feels herself getting worked up.

“Belle I miss you.” She hears through the doorway and she knows there’s no way what Leah said was wrong. She hopes she misheard what she said, wnts to wish for the best. She thinks any tragic event would be better than what she feels right now, but instead she scrunches her hands up in her hair, tangling it up as she lets a tear fall.

Leaning her body against the door to his room, she slides down it. Her back presses against the cool wood and she doesn’t want to cry, really doesn’t want to let her tears fall, especially on the night when she’s meeting his friends for the first time but it all hits her at once.

She was a rebound.

It was clearly there to see, and now Y/N understands. She notices why, of all the times he’d walked into the bookstore she studied at, he chose that one to ask her out. She understood why he was so incredibly kind to her, so understanding and caring. She knew now why he’d chosen her of all the girls he could possibly have. Because she was easy.

She cries as she remembers every moment they shared. It all makes sense, that time he asked if she wanted to have a Disney movie marathon. She thought he was being sweet, but instead he was selfishly bathing in his own fantasy of what he used to have.

“Princess, you’re the only girl who’s made me feel this way.”

She can’t help but think he closed his eyes, not to bask in the moment, but to pretend the girl he was saying those words to wasn’t her.

“Princess, you’re my favorite person.”

Right after they’d been intimate for the first time, she remembered him gently caressing where her back met her neck, cradling her in his arms. She imagines that’s what he must’ve done with someone else, someone he probably really loved.

She doesn’t have time to think, however, because the door abruptly opens from behind her and she last minute pushes herself up by her hands, sitting on the ground as Shawn towers over her, startled.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Hs eyes are wide as he studies her expression carefully, and his features turn to concern.

“Princess, are you crying? What happened?”

Princess.

Y/N almost scoffs. In fact, she would scoff if it weren’t for how dry her throat was from all of the sobbing.

“Belle, huh?” She croaks out, lifting herself off the ground to stand in front of him. She sees Shawn noticeably gulp and she lets herself dribble a few more tears. She knew his answer at that point.

“Was I just a rebound?” She asks quietly, her eyes looking anywhere but at him. They’re bloodshot, and there are tear stains on her navy shirt as she questions him.

“Of course not. Let me explain, you know I wouldn’t do that to you.” He grabs at her hands, trying to uncross them from her chest.

“Princess, pl-”

“Don’t fucking call me that!” Y/N snaps, flinging her arms forward to shake off his grasp. Shawn steps back startled, because he’d never seen his girlfriend act that way towards him before. She was always more quiet. She cared for other people, and seemingly never got angry, no matter how much she had the right to be.

“Don’t call me that when-” She gasps for air through her sobs, “Don’t c-call me that when you only do b-because of h-her.” She swipes at her tears with the back of her hand.

Shawn’s heart breaks in front of him. He’d gotten off the call with Belle, yes. And he’d said he missed her, yes. But he only invited her so he could tell her in person she didn’t hold a place in his heart anymore. For the past week, she’d been trying to contact him to get back together with him, but Shawn knew that what he had with Y/N was undeniably special. So he’d invited her, yes, and he’d told her he missed her, yes, because he did, but he didn’t miss her to get back together with her. He missed her because he needed to talk to her. To tell her that she shouldn’t call anymore, and to perhaps show her that he was happy with someone else.

He never meant for Y/N to find out this way, or at all. His palms can’t help but sweat a bit as he sees her crying in front of him because he doesn’t know how to fix it. He doesn’t know how to explain to her that, while at first, he did use her to get over someone else in a twisted, devious way, that he had fallen for her completely in the process.

“I feel horrible, Shawn.” She sniffles, fists uncurling and curling again at her sides, a tactic she uses to try not to cry.

“You used me, and when that wasn’t enough you tried to pretend like I was her to make yourself feel better.” She grips her teeth into her bottom lip, something Shawn would find attractive and adorable normally, but something that stresses him out now.

“Let me explain, please, you have to let me explain. Let me talk to you.” He reaches forward to hold her but she flinches and backs away.

“Please, I-”

She cuts him off, “And if that wasn’t enough, you proceeded to fucking - to just lie to me about the whole thing? As if I wouldn’t find out? As if I wouldn’t find out that you call me princess because of her and that you dated me because of her and watched Disney movies with me, because of her?” There’s venom in her words as she fires at him.

“What can I do? Tell me what I can do to fix this?” His voice quiets and he practically whimpers when he talks to her. He knows she’ll leave, and that’s the last thing he wants, especially after being dumped carelessly by Belle, he doesn’t want to lose someone else he genuinely cares about, especially from his own actions.

“I thought you liked me.” She pathetically squeaks out, almost laughing to herself, “I actually thought you were different.”

Turning around, she immediately struts back to the living room to grab her purse and leave. Shawn races right behind her, and when his friends notice the tears streaming across her face and the puffy red skin on her cheeks, they all quiet down their drunken chatter.

“Please don’t leave.” Shawn calls out behind her, tears matching her own. His friends noticeably widen their eyes. Even when him and Belle had broken up he never publicly cried in front of everyone else. In fact, he hadn’t publicly cried at all, really. It was more of him sulking for a bit before he looked for ways to get over her.

Meeting Y/N had made him realize that relationships weren’t supposed to be constant adventure, but were also supposed to be a certain level of comfort. Something she provided to him when she actually listened, and showcased her care for him.

“It was nice meeting you all. I don’t think i’ll be coming back here though.” She tries to smile past puffy cheeks and swollen eyes, slipping on her shoes and trying to open the door. When she swings it bac, she sees Shawn reach out to stop the door from opening fully.

“You’re not her, you’re better. Let me explain.” He asks her, and he receives an answer when she walks out of the condo and lets the door click right behind her.

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hputh91-blog · 6 years ago

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Guide To Writing Will-They-Won’t-They

This is also available on wordsnstuffblog.com!

– This subject has been highly requested and I get a lot of questions around it. Most romance writers have experience toying with this dynamic in character relationships, so I figured I’d create a guide for those who love the delicious tension of a will-they-won’t-they relationship, because they’re difficult to do correctly, and when they’re not done right, it can throw a whole story down the drain.

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When They Do End Up Together

Make sure it’s not too… convenient. It’s bad technique to build and build onto tension just to provide an easy, clean-wrapped resolution that makes the conflict seem insignificant. If people are hesitant to get together or stay together, there is a good reason, and that shouldn’t be glossed over by the ending.

When They Don’t End Up Together

Make your reader see that this isn’t a tragedy. If two people don’t end up together, there’s a reason, and it’s a valid one, and just because two couples really like each other or even love each other, doesn’t mean they’re right for each other, and at some point both of them will know that and let that stand. The message shouldn’t be “salvage every potential relationship because if you don’t your life is over”, it should be “some relationships just aren’t right, and love is a choice, not a feeling”.

When The Issue Is Constant Conflict

Constant conflict is a bad sign. Occasional disagreements and arguments are okay, and healthy in most cases, but they should always be resolved peacefully. If a couple can never seem to do that, and that’s the purpose for repetitive breaking up/getting back together, then they probably aren’t right for each other. Please don’t send a message to your readers that couples that constantly fight to the point of deciding they would rather be with someone else than work through it ever ends in a healthy and satisfying way for either party.

When The Issue Is Lack of Communication

Lack of communication is applicable to most will-they-won’t-they relationships, and most relationship tension in general, but I want to specifically mention this because it’s not only lack of communication about initial feelings, but the lack of communication about how the relationship is going, what each partner wants out of the relationship, and what each partner does and does not enjoy in a relationship. These can all cause repetitive breakups because they seem more ambiguous a problem in the moment, and usually cause the “I just don’t think this relationship feels right”, which a character can forget easily once the relationship is over, making them return to their old partner immediately.

When The Issue Is An Existing Dynamic

(The specific request I’m addressing mentioned friends-with-benefits, but this is an SFW blog so I’ll be answering this generally; but yes that is what this section is.) If two characters have an unusual relationship, such as being best friends, which prevents them from trying to level up the relationship out of fear, this provides so many opportunities to build tension from the very beginning. Use this to your advantage, but be original with it. This is an extremely popular trope, and can put off an audience immediately if it shows signs of being completely cliche.

Pacing The Tension To Be Endearing Rather Than Stupid

The tension needs to be built up steadily, but it needs to be reasonable and each instance where the tension is demonstrated needs to be reasonable and fit into the context of each scene. If you avoid thinking about how your tension will come across, more likely than not, it will feel dumb and unnecessary rather than endearing.

Common Struggles

~ effectively writing moments of interrupted tension… Do it at the near-boiling point. This should be the climax of the tension, where they’re right near getting to the point of understanding each other, and they’re finally about to get together and someone or something, even themselves, gets in the way and brings them back to square one.

~ Balancing tension between characters… Moments of tension should be balanced with moments of genuine enjoyment of each other’s company. A lot of tension will be somewhat uncomfortable for the characters, and therefore uncomfortable for the reader, and you need to break that up with fluffy, romantic moments or it will be.. awkward.

~ At what point does tension become irritating rather than entertaining?… When the reasons for the tension become illogical or repetitive. If you’v written the same “we’re two loners at a party” scene three times with no variance in events, that’s irritating to the reader. New and unusual sources of tension through exciting instances of action and reaction between the characters that builds to a near boiling point where the reader and the characters share a longing for some resolution (due to genuine investment in the relationship growing) is entertaining.

~ Avoiding predictability while keeping the trajectory… You can keep your story exciting and on the same track by using subplots to introduce conflicts that draw the reader’s attention away from the way the relationship is growing before delivering a major twist that affects, but doesn’t halt or change the way in which the relationship is growing.

~ Not making the characters’ reluctance unreasonable… Each character should have personal and logical reasons for avoiding addressing their feelings that the reader can empathize with and understand. It’s as simple as that.

~ Will-they-won’t they that spans large periods of time… If the will-they-won’t-they surrounds a relationship that spans huge amounts of time (such as one that is spanned over 50+ years) can be depicted very well as long as you choose the moments and events that you include in the actual storytelling very wisely, and sparingly. There should be a balance of events told from the present moment where the tension is at a near boiling point, and events that establish how the relationship has grown and continues to, and why it took so long to do so.

Resources

Resources For Describing Emotions

Resources For Plot Development

Resources For Romance Writers

Kiss Scenes 101: How to Write The Perfect Kiss

Novel Planning 101

How To Write A Good Plot Twist

How To Foreshadow

Commentary On Social Issues In Writing

How To Make A Scene More Heartfelt

20 Mistakes To Avoid When Writing Young Adult Fiction/Romance

Tips On Writing Skinny Love

How To Perfect The Tone In A Piece Of Writing

A Guide To Tension & Suspense In Your Writing

Writing Arguments Between Characters

Planning A Scene In A Story

Tips On Writing Intense Scenes

DISCLAIMER

I know that the primary audience of these articles write stories for young adults or a little bit older, and I don’t want to be preachy and tell you what you should and should not convey in your story. However, I want to remind all writers that no matter who your audience is, the manner in which you convey things does impact each individual readers’ mindset and views in some way.

Please be aware of the way your story frames things like potential abuse, unhealthy behavior, and toxic relationships, because it’s not the presence of these things that is harmful; it’s the way you frame them, glorify them, or romanticize them.

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hputh91-blog · 7 years ago

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Meet the Teacher: Part Two

a/n: In which an apology is made and songs are played

Y’all, this felt so good to write. My crazy month of travel is now over and it felt really nice to just be able to pour my post-El Paso/ACL Shawn feelings into something cute. The response to this little concept has been CRAZY and I’m kind of in love with Music Teacher!Shawn so…you’ll see that I’m going to continue this even further…I mean I have to or y’all will definitely kill me.

I should start a taglist for this….

READ PART ONE HERE

warnings: 3.2k of blushing and Shawn philosophizing

P.S. I’m sorry. -SM

You sat at the kitchen table and stared at the note. Julian had come home with a music progress report that told you how well he was progressing in class, a normal practice for his school that had a reputation for great parent communication. But, on Julian’s progress report, there was a scribbled handwritten note at the bottom.

It had been a week since Meet the Teacher Night and you still hadn’t texted or called him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You definitely did. I mean who wouldn’t? But, Julian was so obsessed with him. Fucking that up with dating his idol could ruin everything for him and the reason you came here was to start over. You wanted Julian to have a better life here.

“Mommy! What did Mr. Mendes say?” Julian draped himself dramatically across your lap and acted like he might die if you didn’t tell him. You laughed, running your fingers through his soft floppy hair. He was such a spitting image of his father that sometimes it hurt to look at him. He was destined to be tall, dark, and handsome. Hopefully he would break hearts with less trauma than his father did. You snapped to attention when he booped you on the nose, something you did to each other when one of you wasn’t focusing.

“He says you’re very good at drumming and he’d like you to be in the spring choir after Christmas.” Julian’s eyes lit up as if you’d just told him he’d won a trip to Disney World. I cannot date this man. You listed all the reasons it would be a bad idea for the fifth time in as many days. He’s Julian’s favorite person. He’s a teacher at Julian’s school. I just got out of a serious, eight-year relationship. Maybe the fact that you didn’t care about that last point meant that your relationship hadn’t, in fact, just ended, but in Julian’s eyes it was still a fresh wound.

Julian wandered off toward the living room, still in a daze that Shawn, Mr. Mendes, would want to spend more time with him. You smiled at his retreating form and pulled out your phone, finally ready to confront the predicament before you. It was going to be fine. He’s just Julian’s music teacher, nothing more and nothing less.

You: Hello, it’s Julian’s mom. What are you sorry for?

The ellipses bubble popped up almost immediately.

Shawn: Hello! Hi. How are you? I’m sorry for being so forward last week. I shouldn’t have given you my number.

Keep reading

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hputh91-blog · 7 years ago

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Meet the Teacher

a/n: In which Shawn is an elementary school music teacher capturing hearts

Hellooooo! So, I haven’t written a fluff oneshot in God knows how long. @mendesftoakley inspired me yesterday morning though and I couldn’t get this out of my head. I might write a part two? I’m kind of obsessed with this idea of music teacher Shawn. It’s cute as fuck. Anyways, as always, let me know what you think! I love all of your feedback!

warnings: fluff shrapnel embedded in your heart forever from the 2.3k ovary explosion

“Mommy, we’re gonna play instruments!”

You smiled at your seven-year-old son in the backseat. He was practically vibrating with excitement. It was Meet the Teacher Night and you were finally meeting his favorite person—Mr. Mendes, his elementary school music teacher. Honestly, you kind of wanted to kill this illusive and illustrious Mr. Mendes because Julian wouldn’t shut up about him. In the last three weeks, he had started banging on every available surface in the apartment, saying things like “awesome, dude!” and “play with your heart,” and had asked for a guitar for Christmas no less than six times…in September.

“Mr. Mendes says that I have natural rhythm,” he said, nodding with such certainty that you thought he might actually know what that meant. “Did he? That’s great sweetie! You really like this teacher, huh?”

“He’s so cool. I think you’re really gonna like him.” Still nodding, he smiled at you in the rearview mirror, showing off his lack of front teeth. You were glad that he’d found something to love at his new school. You’d just moved here, crossing state lines, after a nasty breakup with his father. Thank God you never married him. It made things a lot easier for you, but for Julian, well, his father loved him and he loved his father. The separation had been rough, with only a few weekends here and there for them to reunite, so having something, someone, here that kept him grounded was good.

Pulling up to the school, you saw a sea of parents and groaned. Meet the Teacher also meant Meet the Parents and it was always a struggle for you as a young mother. You knew they judged you, knew they saw you as less than because you were twenty-five with a second grader. So, the Meet the Teachers and the PTA and the parent mixers and the soccer practices weren’t your favorite thing, but you endured them because Julian was your world.

So you let him drag you inside by the hand, silently kicking and screaming like the second grader you’re supposed to be raising. The middle-aged woman that greets you at the registration desk to pick up your class meeting schedule looks like a typical PTA President, the badge on her chest proudly displaying her title. She looked you up and down and sneers a little, mentally calculating how old you must have been when you had a child.

“Music is just down the hall and to the left,” she said with pursed lips.

Oh great, music first. Julian was pulling again, practically shaking with excitement. “Mommy, mommy, we have to hurry so I can pick my instrument! I want the big clapper hands!”

Letting go of his hand so he could run down the hall, you giggled to yourself at his excitement. You watched him skip and jump down the hall, rounding the corner in his little sneakers and his favorite Spider-Man t-shirt. He really was happy here and that’s all you could ask for during this difficult time in his life. Daydreaming about the new life you building here, so far away from everything your son had ever known, you rounded the corner and immediately ran face-first into a brick wall.

“Oh, excuse me!” the wall said. Why is the wall talking?

Turns out it wasn’t a wall. It was a very tall, very muscular man. He grasped your shoulders to steady you, forcing you to back up and lean your head back to look at him. Momentarily stunned by the image, your eyes blew wide and your mouth hung open. This was the most attractive man you’d ever laid eyes on. He was broad, shoulders in perfect proportion with his waist, with a square jaw and strong chin to match. His lips looked soft, shiny like they were recently coated with lip balm, and his hair, thick dark brown curls, hung into his face at the top, just a couple of ringlets reaching down to his eyebrow. After this quick inventory of his features, you locked eyes with him, his brown (or were they just a little bit green?) ones widening to mirror yours when he looked at you. He was still grasping your shoulders and you were still trying to remember how to breathe when a small, hip-height body crashed into your legs.

“Mommy! This is Mr. Mendes!”

Oh my God.

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One Diretion: we will be back in 18 months

Me three years later:

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BOYFRIEND

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LITERALLY A WHOLE ASS MAN

#noah centineo #TATBILB

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Honeymoon

a/n: In which Shawn and Reader are on their honeymoon.

I wrote this in celebration of 500 followers! I can’t believe it! I LOVE YOU GUYS! The inspiration for this fic came from this post reblogged by the lovely @brittanyzelazno ❤️

|| MASTERLIST ||

warnings: 1.5k of soft, slow, intense, vanilla smut

The warm ocean air blew into the bedroom from the balcony. It kissed your naked skin, still drying fresh from the shower. You were laying on the enormous, king-size bed with your hair wrapped in a towel reading a beaten copy of Jane Eyre, totally consumed in the sweeping gothic romance. You must have read the novel fifty times, but it never ceased to take your breath away. Jane had just abandoned Rochester when you felt the bed dip behind you.

You smiled coyly at your book, not giving any hint that you felt his gaze. He laid his large hand on your back and drew soft circles with his calloused fingertips. Your skin broke out immediately in goosebumps as you shivered beneath him. He leaned down, bringing his lips to your skin, kissing you between your shoulder blades.

You rolled your eyes and tossed the book aside, giving up all pretense of trying to focus on the words rather than his mouth. He smiled against your skin, continuing to draw designs on your back. The nerves crackled with energy, hoping, praying they would be next.

“Shawn,” you breathed, “what are you doing?” You turned your head to find his eyes and found them hungry, ready to devour you. He was already undressed, having left his wetsuit on the balcony to dry.

“I’m admiring my fucking beautiful wife,” he said, matter-of-factly, returning to his exploration of your skin. He had just come in from enjoying the early surf while you slept in. In the few days that you’d been in this paradise, his face and torso had tanned, making him look more Portuguese than ever. His thick, chocolate curls were rapidly drying into soft ringlets, some of them falling into his face. In the soft light of the morning, he looked like a Pre-Raphaelite painting. He was breathtaking.

This honeymoon often felt like a dream. There were no photographers, no screaming crowds, no team to tell you what to do or what to wear. It was just the two of you, like a normal couple. It gave you time to figure each other out as a married couple away from all of that exterior pressure. Four days ago, when you said “I do,” you couldn’t be sure how all of the fame and the tours and the recording schedule would affect your relationship, but here, at the end of the world it seemed, you had time to learn each other—the people you were together without all the noise.

You had discovered that you loved him even more fiercely than you thought possible. His soft snores that tickled your ear in the morning, pressed against his chest. His fidgeting when he didn’t have a guitar in his hand, errantly picking at the air in front of him when he had an idea. His rosy cheeks that bloomed every time you whispered his name. It was the quiet moments between you like this that assured you that as long as you had each other, none of the rest of it mattered.

“Baby, turn over for me,” he said, as he reached up to free your wet hair. It fell in damp waves around your shoulders and fanned out across the comforter when you followed his instructions. He raked his eyes down your naked figure and let out a soft curse.

“Shawn, touch me,” you pleaded, reaching out and tracing the swallow tattooed on his hand with your fingers. He placed a tentative hand on your lower abdomen and dragged a single finger upward toward the valley between your breasts.

“Like this?” he teased, bringing his finger up to his mouth and wetting the tip of it. He traced the outline of one nipple and then the other, leaving rings of moisture around both. Lowering his head, almost resting his chin on your chest, he softly blew cold air across your breasts. Your back arched up and off the bed as you felt your nipples harden into sensitive diamonds, begging for contact, causing you to moan low and deep.

His mouth was on you in an instant, draping himself over you and straddling your thigh. Sucking your hardened peak between his lips, he swirled his tongue and lapped at your breast, kneading the other in his massive hand, before switching. Your fingers knitted themselves deep in his curls, holding him to your chest. You could feel his hips grind against your leg, his hard cock involuntarily in search of delicious friction. He was totally lost in your pleasure and all of the sensation was starting to overwhelm you.

“Shawn! Babe, stop!” you keened. He stopped immediately, pulling his face from your chest and seeking out your eyes in alarm, “Are you okay? Was I hurting you?”

“No, no, I’m fine, I just,” you blushed scarlet, “I need you inside me. I love your mouth on me, but I don’t want to come without feeling all of you.”

“You want to feel all of me, honey?” You nodded your head vigorously as he maneuvered the two of you, turning you to your side as he crawled behind you. His rigid cock rested against your back as he pulled you backward against his hard, defined chest. He ran his hand down your side, over your hip, and grabbed your thigh, opening your dripping heat to him and resting your leg atop his.

Surprising you, he reached around and dipped his fingers between your lower lips, collecting your wetness, causing you to cry out. He used his slick fingers to coat his cock with your essence, an action so erotic that your eyes rolled back into your head. You bit your lower lip to keep from letting out a choked sob.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked. You breathed your assent as he pumped himself a few times before finally moving toward your center. Lining himself up, he slowly pushed inside you, inch by inch, until he bottomed out with a deep exhale, resting his forehead between your shoulder blades.

“Fuck, Shawn,” you whispered, the phrase sounding more like a prayer than a curse. He stilled inside and you reached back to grab his hip, keeping him deep. You savored the sensation, feeling closer to him at this angle than you did face-to-face. He was pressing against that spot and you had to take labored breaths to keep from coming right then.

After what seemed like decades, he inched out of you in a measured pace before gradually returning, brushing against your most sensitive place every time as he kept a deliberate tempo. It had you seeing stars with every return. He held your hips in a bruising grip, giving him leverage for his controlled thrusts. Eventually, you began seeking more, jutting your hips back and hearing your skin softly slap against his. Both of you were sweating, his hair dripping with the evidence of his labor. He batted on to your shoulder and began to suck a mark there, claiming you as his—as his wife—forever. You reached back and ran your fingers through his wet curls, grabbing a handful of them as you pushed back with your hips, meeting him thrust for thrust.

The mounting intensity was beginning to make your legs shake. No longer possessing the strength to keep them open, Shawn threaded his hand around your inner thigh and made room for his movements. His thrusts were beginning to falter.

“Babe, fuck…are you…almost…there?” he asked unevenly. “Oh, God! It’s so intense,” you shouted in response, barely able to nod. He hooked your thigh onto his knee and held you open for him, allowing him to reach around and brush your clit with his rough fingertips. Just a couple of circles around your bundle of nerves had you screaming out.

“Shawn, I’m…oh, fuck…please….come with me,” you begged, needing him to hold your hand over the cliff—unable to fall alone.

The force of your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave. He continued to pump in and out of you slowly, still pulsing against your g-spot and feeling you contract around him, until he roared his own climax, spilling into you. He fucked you erratically through both your orgasms, your body taking in every bit of his come.

He held you in his arms, your body still trembling, as he gently slipped out of you. You whimpered from the loss as he placed a single, wet kiss on the mark he’d left on your shoulder. You hissed at the sensation, turning your body to face his. Grabbing him by the nape of the neck, you found the strength to pull his head to yours, sealing the perfect morning with a quick but blistering kiss. He rested his forehead against yours, both of you catching your breath.

“Mr. Mendes,” you said, in a fake reporter voice, beaming up at him, “how does it feel to be married?”

“Well, Mrs. Mendes,” he replied, the humor evident in his voice, “it’s only been four days and I’m completely exhausted,” his face breaking open into the brightest, widest grin you’d ever seen, “but I wouldn’t give it up for the world.”

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