#{ Shawn } Painted a crooked smile

[vivwritescrappythings]

Unfair

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

an au about Joel attending a wedding simply inspired by Pedro's slutty little fit at the SAG awards.

part 2

tw: age gap (late 20s/late 40s), fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, alcohol, she/her pronouns, reader has hair long enough to twist around her finger, Joel is probably poorly written in this, and this whole thing is a little poorly written.

word count: 7.2k

MDNI

masterlist

–

Your mom was smiling as you zipped her into her gown, the chiffon and lace dress gorgeous on her as you fastened the eyelet closed at the top of the bodice. You could feel the lens of the photographer’s camera trained on you both, the woman having been with you the entire morning to document the process of the bridal party getting ready. 

The photographer was fluttering around the room, taking candid photos of you all making small talk and toasting mimosas. The posed photos had been earlier that morning, you all wearing your matching silk robes with your names screen-printed on the back. You didn’t know how much had been spent on the whole production–but it certainly wasn’t cheap. But, to see your mom glowing and her wide smile all morning, every penny must have been more than worth it.

Before you realized, you all wore dresses and bouquets of white flowers with magnificent greenery were being thrust in your hands. The wedding planner was ushering everyone out onto the stone walkway to the barn, women finally meeting men just outside the farmhouse turned wedding venue. The best man looked vaguely familiar to you as you placed your hand in the crook of his elbow to walk down the aisle, he must have been Shawn's eldest brother.

The officiant droned: he just repeated the same platitudes of what it means to love one another and be good spouses. You tried to stay focused, your eyes inevitably wandering. The ceremony space was picturesque: southern live oaks casting shadows in the late autumn sun as they married in front of the barn. It really couldn’t get more Texas than that, especially when you counted the number of cowboy hats in the crowd. 

You could feel someone staring at you for the better part of the ceremony, making you glance out of the corner of your eye as you tried to find the source. Every fiber of you wanted to turn and look in earnest, but you knew that you’d ruin the photos as soon as your body twisted and your happy, grinning face wasn’t facing the bride and groom on the best day of their lives. 

Your grip tightened around the bouquet in your hands as your skin crawled, your focus so jarred that you almost missed your cue to walk out. The cheers and clapping woke you from your reverie before the best man had to. Grasping him by the elbow, you walked back up the aisle between the celebrating wedding guests, the feeling of being watched now fading to the background.

—

When you finally made it to the renovated barn, you were starving and in desperate need of a drink. The photos had run long, the photographers getting you all in a variety of line ups and poses. It was almost time for the plated dinner to begin, guests settling at assigned tables after a cocktail hour and the live band playing quiet music in the corner of the half-inside half-outside space that would eventually serve as the dance floor.

The orange lighting from string lights along the ceiling was soft, mismatched Edison bulbs hanging along zigzagged wires from wooden rafters. It painted the guests and decor in gold tones, making everything look sepia like an old photo.

With your double shot vodka tonic in hand, you found your name written in gold calligraphy on the seating chart. Your mom and her new husband were sitting together at a small table at the front of the room, a faux-neon sign behind them that displayed his last name. Well, their last name now. 

You were at one of the front tables, the ivory table cloth nearly brushing the shiny wooden floor as you plucked your name card off your plate and sat down. There were only a few people you knew at the wedding, neighbors from the neighborhood you grew up in and a handful of your mother’s coworkers. But, they were seated elsewhere. 

Some of the seats on the opposite side of the sprawling white and green centerpiece were occupied with strangers in flamboyant cowboy hats and boots, an obvious sign they were from out of town. You smiled politely as you sat down, taking a long sip of your drink as you checked your phone for the moment of downtime. 

“This seat taken?” A deep, twangy voice made your gaze cut away from the screen and up to the right. You were immediately dumbstruck by how handsome the man was, his umber colored eyes reminding you of the sunlight hitting the tree trunks during the ceremony. A few of his dark brown curls were falling on his tanned forehead, the rest of his hair loosely pushed back. 

You floundered for a moment, lips parting and no words coming out of your mouth. Finally you caught up, blinking a few times. The place card in front of the ornate gold and white place setting next to yours was your saving grace. “Well, uh, if you’re Joel M., the seat is all yours,” you said, looking back up at him.

God, you hoped he was Joel.

He smiled, the lines on his face becoming a bit more defined as he extended a hand toward you. “Joel Miller, nice to meet you…” he trailed off, waiting for your assistance. 

You slipped your hand into his, his calloused palm engulfing yours as he shook it politely. You introduced yourself, neck craned back so you could look him in the eye. He released your hand and sat down, setting the glass he was holding next to yours on the table cloth. 

“So how do you know the couple?” Joel asked you, his gaze dragging over you. You tried not to squirm under the weight of it, your face feeling hot as you set your phone face-down on the table. The way he looked at you made you feel like a bug caught under a microscope.

“The bride is my mom,” you said, fiddling with the elegantly folded cloth napkins for a moment. You glanced at her briefly, watching her giggle at something Shawn had said. 

Joel nodded, a huff of a laugh following. “No shit, so you’re the stepdaughter?” he asked, an eyebrow raised as a smirk lifted the corner of his lip. One of your eyebrows lifted of its own volition, his reaction catching you off guard.

“Do I have a reputation?” A sip of your drink helped wet your dry tongue, your eyes trained on him over the rim of your glass. There was a spike of anxiety in your chest, the temporary fear that he’d heard something bad about you filling your mind. You held your glass in your hand as you crossed your legs at the ankle, waiting for his response.

Joel paused to take a drink, a hand scrubbing over his beard as he looked back at you. He shook his head, waving a hand in a way that was meant to be placating. “Shawn told me about you, said you just moved back to town a few months ago.” 

“Um, yeah, actually. Moved back from Denver,” you said, bashful that the subject of you even came up. You hadn’t realized that you were important enough in Shawn’s life to mention, especially to his friends. Of course, there wasn’t animosity between the two of you, just what you assumed was limited interest. Most men didn't bother to learn too much about their adult stepchildren.

You were both leaning forward as you spoke, the music and chatter of the other guests making the barn a little too loud to hear one another clearly at a distance. He was looking down at his drink, giving you an opportunity to study his profile. Joel was easily twenty years your senior, the dark beard on his jawline threaded through with patches of silver hair. 

“So—“ Joel started, getting cut off by the shuffle of the last people to their seats and an arm thrust between the two of you. The waiters serving the plated dinner made you sit upright in your chair, the soft fabric of your dress fluttering as you put some space between Joel and yourself. 

You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you took the first bite of your food, a sigh escaping you as your eyelashes batted against your cheeks. Conversation floated around your head, you caught polite questions about Joel’s construction business and half-assed replies.

For some reason your mother had put you at a table full of Shawn’s friends, maybe in an attempt to help you get to know him better.

“So you’re a contractor?” you asked after your hunger had been satiated. You’d gotten a refill on your drink from one of the waiters, nursing a fresh vodka tonic as you looked at Joel.

He chewed his steak methodically, nodding as he turned slightly to look at you. “Been building houses for years, my brother, Tommy, works with me,” Joel said after he swallowed, taking his cloth napkin off his wide thigh to wipe the corner of his mouth. 

“Do you like it?” you asked after a moment of contemplation, tilting your head to one side as you looked at him.

There was something about him that kept you smiling, your lips curved like a bow as you sipped your drink from the straw. You studied his features while you could, his aquiline nose and his full lower lip intriguing. Way too intriguing for someone who was your stepfather’s friend.

“Pays the bills, keeps the roof over me and Sarah’s heads.” Joel finished his plate, picking up his drink and leaning back in his seat. 

Sarah? Your eyes dropped to his left hand, not seeing a ring on any of the fingers. Not even a tan line. He noticed it, making your face burn as he chuckled. “Sarah? Your…”

“Daughter,” he cut in helpfully. Daughter, he had a daughter. You exhaled, relieved. But, did he have a wife? No ring, never mentioned her. He would’ve brought her up by now. She would've attended the wedding with him. You chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath as you rationalized.  

Your mouth opened to ask another question when glasses were chimed and dinner was cleared away. Champagne flutes were passed around, and to your horror you realized it was time for your toast. You stood in a fluid motion, adjusting your gown and your hair before heading toward the microphone next to the table with the bride and groom.

–

You spent the rest of the night getting drunk. Champagne became cocktails and cocktails became shots–all with your mother and new stepfather and family and friends from your childhood. Tipsiness made you remove your heels, kicking them off to the side to a forgotten corner as your aching feet pressed against the polished floor. 

The dance floor was cramped, the band having transitioned partway through the night to someone’s phone with a playlist hooked up to the speakers. You watched your mom laugh as she was spun around by her new husband, making you smile as you nursed your glass of wine. 

“You lost something.” Joel approached, pointing to your strappy heels with a lazy finger. 

You grinned, your teeth digging into your lower lip for a moment as you looked up at him. “Looks like you did, too–a few things actually,” you said, nodding toward his shucked suit jacket and tie. The top few buttons of his white shirt were open, revealing just enough of his tanned chest to feel dangerous. He was more disheveled than before, a chilled beer bottle held loosely in his fingers and his cheeks flushed.

Joel chuckled, taking a step closer to you as he took a long drink from his beer. You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed, taking a sip of your red wine in tandem.

There was something about this man that had you all kinds of flustered, a giddy lightness in your chest when he focused his attention on you. “So why aren’t you out there dancing?” Joel asked, his warm eyes surveying the dance floor before returning.

You shook your head, a demure smile and a shrug. “Never was much of a dancer.” The last time you really danced was wasted at a frat party in college, the lights low and the music making the house shake. Far from a respectable barn wedding, and definitely not your mother’s respectable barn wedding. 

“That’s a shame,” Joel smiled at you, pressing just a bit closer, “a pretty girl like you should be out there.” 

You were surprised by the compliment, nearly choking on your wine as your eyebrows lifted. Joel was smirking, his whole body leaning toward yours. You were warm to the touch, your entire face burning under his attentions. It felt like you were in high school again, pining after some older boy that you assumed would never look at you twice–but here he was, looking.

“Do you always flirt with your friend’s stepdaughters?” you asked, hoping to come off as hard to get. Realistically, he already had you in the palm of his hand.

Joel pursed his lips, something mischievous flashing in his dark eyes for a moment. “Just the ones that look like you,” he said, his deep voice low. It was almost too quiet to hear over the music, making you shift forward so you could hear him better.

“Joel.” It would've been chastising if it wasn’t for your bright smile. He exuded an easy confidence that was magnetic, it had your nerves on fire as you selfishly hoped that he would do more than just flirt with you. Your gaze was on his lips for a moment, taking in the lines of his full bottom lip and tidy mustache before meeting his eyes again.

“The couple is getting ready to leave!” You both looked toward the door and watched the wedding planner usher guests out the barn doors. Sparklers were thrust in everyone’s hands, the photographer already positioned at the end of the walkway near the rented white Rolls Royce.

Joel’s hand found the small of your back, warm through the thin fabric of your dress as he guided you toward the door. The wedding planner handed him two sparklers, the long kind that wobbled under their own weight. 

The guests had divided into two lines, waiters lighting sparklers on either side of the column created. Joel handed you one as you stood at his side, your bare feet on the warm concrete. You held it out from your body, focused on the bright sizzle of the sparks as they made their way down the lines of powder.

Your mother and Shawn walked through the column of sparklers on cue, laughing and smiling while holding hands. They looked so happy. You could hardly imagine being that happy with someone.

She broke off for a moment to embrace you, making Joel thoughtfully pluck the sparkler out of your fingers so you didn’t burn her. 

Tears pushed at your eyelids, overwhelming joy for your mother finally breaking free of your chest. You whispered ‘I love you’s into one another’s ears and pressed kisses to cheeks as you clung to each other. The photographer’s camera was shuttering nearby, catching every intimate moment.

Finally you let her go, tearful and smiling as Shawn pulled her toward the car that would take them to their hotel. Joel’s large hand found the curve of your waist, bringing you to his side as you watched your mother get into the car. 

You were tipsy enough to allow it.

He was warm, smelling like cigar smoke and whiskey and cologne. You both were quiet as you watched the car pull away, your shoulders fitting in the space between his arm and torso.

“You wanna help me find my jacket? Think I left it around back when I was smoking a cigar with Shawn,” Joel murmured into your hair. His fingers pressed into your waist, his breath on your neck.

It was enough to distract you. You blinked your tears away, fingertips brushing at the corners of your eyes to make sure your makeup was still intact. “Sure,” you whispered, looking up at him after you’d composed yourself.

Your heart skipped a beat when Joel took your hand, tugging you along with him down the path on the outside of the barn. Both of you were tipsy, giggling and stumbling a bit over the paving stones that had been set in the tall grass. The lights faded behind you, the dim glow through the high windows of the barn and the solitary strand of Edison bulbs between the trees just enough to navigate by. 

It all happened so fast, you didn’t even know who initiated it. Joel’s calloused hands were cupping your cheeks and jaw, tilting your head up as your lips met his. He tasted like whiskey and the sweet wedding cake, making you sigh into the kiss as your fingers twisted in his shirt and pulled him close. 

You had to stand on your tip toes to kiss him properly, a few soft laughs escaping the both of you when the hard cartilage of your noses bumped and teeth clashed. 

He took steps forward until your shoulder blades pressed against the side of the barn. Joel crowded you in, one hand leaving your cheek to brace against the wood behind your waist as he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip. You could feel him smiling.

You always found French kissing to be weird, never knowing quite what to do with your tongue. Whenever a guy had initiated it you managed to cut it off quickly, moving on to some other method of making out to spare yourself the embarrassment of letting your tongue sit there like a dead fish.

Of course you’d seen people do it, always seeming like a lot more licking each other than kissing. Nevertheless, the second time Joel ran his tongue along the seam of your lips you found yourself parting them for him.

Suddenly, you understood. Joel’s tongue massaged over yours as he groaned softly. You wanted him to consume you, letting him take control as he explored your mouth. He tilted your head back more, leaning over you with his full height. You flicked your tongue along his, spine arching toward him in an attempt to get closer.

The horn of the hotel shuttle startled you as you broke apart, chests heaving and your lipstick smeared onto Joel’s mouth. 

“You staying at the same hotel as everyone else?” Joel asked, nosing at your hairline as his hands roamed over your dress. He bunched it in his fists, raising the hem above your calves and wrinkling the fabric.

“I am,” you breathed, twisting your fingers in his thick curls. 

Joel smiled against your earlobe, nipping at it. “Wanna continue this in my room? Got a king size bed and everything,” he drawled, pulling back to look down at you. There was a sparkle in his eyes, his smile was breathtaking.

You wiped your lipstick off his bottom lip with your thumb, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “You sure?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest in a form of protection from Joel’s possible rejection. 

He offered, but there was still a part of you that was worried.

He furrowed his brow, a smile still on his face as he looked down at you in the dark. “'Course I’m sure. Go get your shoes, baby, and I’ll see you on the shuttle.” Joel spun you toward the nearest door to the barn, lightly smacking your ass go get you moving.

You yelped, swatting at his hand with a glare. 

“Go on, before I ruin that pretty dress of yours in the dirt out here,” he told you, a smirk on his face as he nodded his chin toward the door. You rolled your eyes, acquiescing to his instructions.

—

It took Joel no time to get you down the hall from the packed elevator and to his room. He clumsily tapped his keycard against the sensor, stamping kisses along the side of your neck as you giggled in the cage of his arms.

Finally he got it to unlock, tightening an arm around your waist as he pushed the door open. Joel took wide, staggered steps on either side of your body as he ushered you inside. 

As soon as the door snapped shut he was already lifting the bottom of your dress, kisses turning into bites on the curve of your neck. “Jo-el,” you whined through giggles as you grabbed the forearm he’d locked around your waist. 

“Unfair that you’re this fucking pretty,” he mumbled, making your face heat up as you tried to protest. Joel shushed you by grabbing a handful of the meat of your thigh, groaning in your ear. 

“How’s it unfair?” you managed to ask, your head spinning from the overwhelming presence of Joel. His rough, calloused hands were groping at your soft flesh, his lips sucking marks on your neck like you were teenagers. 

The room was relatively untouched, his open suitcase on the stand near the large windows on the far side of the room. The curtains were slightly open, moonlight filtering in. “S’unfair that I didn’t meet you sooner,” Joel said, scraping his blunt teeth over the sensitive spot just under your earlobe. You shivered in his arms.

He separated from you just enough to shuck his suit jacket that he had haphazardly put on for the shuttle, tossing it on the little sofa in the room. You turned after stepping out of your heels, linking your hands behind Joel’s neck and pulling him in for another kiss. 

Joel smiled into it, his hands grabbing your waist and holding you flush against his body. “You still wanna do this?” His fingers moved to your spine and played with the zipper on the back of your dress, looking down at you as he waited for your answer. "Don't want you to feel pressured or anything."

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be,” you murmured, carding your fingers in his thick curls.

Joel just groaned, pressing you flush against him as he captured you in another needy kiss. He pulled the zipper of your dress down in one fluid motion, making a shiver prickle up the length of your spine.

“Let me see ya, baby,” he said against your mouth, pulling the thick straps of your dress down your arms. 

You let the fabric pool at your feet, your sheer, skin-colored bra and panties leaving little to the imagination. A wave of insecurity flashed over you, your skin suddenly feeling stretched too tight over your body as your face and neck heated up. 

You were too aware of the parts of yourself that you didn’t like: the dimpled flesh on the outside of your thighs and the hairs you hadn’t plucked away because the wedding was the last place you thought you’d find a one night stand. A wobbly smile formed, your instinct making you bury your face in Joel’s neck to hide.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear his praise. His massive hands ran down your sides, thumbing at the mesh of your bra and panties before he started moving you backwards.

Your calves hit the bed, making you squawk in an unflattering way as Joel lowered you to the mattress. “You’re so gorgeous,” he breathed, his lips trailing down your neck until he was kissing and sucking at your sternum. He nudged your knees apart with his free hand, his other forearm planted on the mattress to hold his weight off of you. He slotted himself in the space between your thighs as his tongue laved over your nipple through the mesh fabric of your bra.

The noise that came out of your throat was embarrassing. Your breath turned into a strangled moan, eyebrows pinching together. The sensation only made your arousal increase tenfold, spine already arching to press your tit against his mouth. 

Joel chuckled, soft brown eyes ticking up to look at your face. “That sensitive?” he said, more of a statement than a question. You found yourself nodding anyway. He thumbed at your other nipple, making it bud against the thin fabric and pulling another whine from your throat. He snickered.

“Don’t tease,” you huffed, wiggling your hips and lightly squeezing his sides with your knees. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” Joel muttered, a smile stretching on his lips as he rolled the pad of his thumb over your nipple again. He placed kisses along your stomach, making you suck in the soft flesh on reflex. His coarse facial hair tickled your skin, making you giggle a bit as he continued to work his way down your form.

“Just wanna taste ya, okay?” Joel asked, his broad shoulders between your spread thighs. His thick fingers hooked into your panties, manipulating your legs so he could pull them off and toss them somewhere in the room. He pressed your legs apart before you could snap them shut, a seed of worry taking root in your mind as you looked down at him.

You’d never been so self-conscious during a hook-up before, but for some reason Joel felt different. Your thoughts were preoccupied on how you looked from his vantage point, if you smelled alright and if anything looked weird.

“Been wanting to taste you all night, ever since I saw you standing up there during that damn ceremony.”

He spread you apart with his thumbs, eyes focused on your already wet pussy as a smirk stretched across his features. He just stared, making you want to crawl back into yourself. Then the feeling of his tongue on your clit makes you forget your worries, your face scrunching as you moaned. Joel hooked your leg over his shoulder, your heel pressing against his back as he pushed your thighs even further apart. 

You couldn’t remember a time when you’d been so soaked before, sticky arousal practically gushing out of you. Joel’s wide tongue licked long stripes up your cunt, careful to practically gulp down everything that he could. He was groaning as he ate you out, his big hands digging into your waist to pull you closer. The coarse hair of his beard was rough against the soft skin of your inner thighs 

“Oh–oh god, Joel,” you sighed, propping yourself up on an elbow so you could look at him. 

Your thighs were quaking, pressing against his ears as your hips twitched. Joel’s dark eyes were hazy and half lidded as he lapped over your clit, working with a focus you’d never experienced with any other man. He looked beautiful between your legs, belly-down on the mattress and still dressed in his button down shirt and slacks. 

One of his hands left your hip, snaking up your stomach to reach blindly until he cupped your breast. He pulled at the cup of your bra, revealing your peaked nipple. The bud was immediately pinched between his thumb and forefinger, making you arch your back as you let out another whine of his name.

Joel dipped down to shove his searing tongue inside of you as his nose bumped into the swollen bead of your clit. A bolt of lightning ricocheted up your spine, a gasp leaving you. It felt so good you could almost cry, your chest heaving and hips clumsily grinding toward his mouth. You were already starting to tremble, pleasure sparking in the pit of your stomach as he mouthed at you. 

And then he pulled back.

“Joel!” you yelped, starting to sit up as your gaze hardened into a glare. Your pussy clenched around nothing, neglected and empty with an interrupted orgasm.

He huffed a laugh, looking down at you as he knelt on the bed in front of you. “You’re right, baby, that’s my name,” he teased, his voice deep and smokey. 

He grabbed you roughly by the hips, pulling so you fell to your back again. “You fucker–” Joel cut you off by pressing the backs of your knees until you were bent in half, a brief show of just how strong he was. His calloused hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, readjusting you again so the small of your back was propped up against his quads. You’d never been in this angle before, your pussy the highest point of your body as he pushed his forearms against your thighs to keep you still.

Joel’s hot breath washed over your cunt before he delved back into it, greedy as he started sucking on your clit. With the way you were contorted, you were completely helpless, any attempt to move your hips just made your thighs push uselessly against his arms. You were soaking, your arousal dripping down to your asshole as you whimpered pathetically.

He went at a leisurely pace, taking his time to tongue at you and lick long stripes from your perineum to your clit. Your hands were clenching in the white comforter on the hotel bed, your chest heaving. There was something about being completely at his mercy that made your head spin.

You wanted to be greedy, take everything he would give you; but, Joel was in no rush, languidly pressing his face into your pussy despite your best efforts to get him to speed up. 

It was overwhelming in all the right ways, your head spinning as you watched Joel lick at you like he wanted to consume every part of you. Joel cupped your breast in a hand, strumming his thumb lightly over your nipple to keep it stimulated as you gasped. 

You were delirious by the time he sunk two fingers into you, almost making you scream. Joel took a few breaths, his pink lips swollen and shiny with your arousal as he studied your expression. You could hardly think straight, strings of curses mixed with his name falling from your lips as you panted like a bitch in heat. 

The squelching sound of his fingers lazily pumping into your pussy filled the hotel room, loud enough to make your cheeks burn. You wetted your lips, trying to catch your breath beneath Joel.

“So fucking tight around my fingers,” Joel mumbled, the words muffled and wet because he didn’t pull away. It didn’t even feel like he was talking to you, communing with your pussy instead. The praise went directly to your head, making you tighten around his fingers. You threaded a hand in his hair, keeping his mouth pressed against you. “Tastes just as good as I expected.”

“Oh… oh my god,” you breathed, your climax building toward its precipice. 

Joel wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, just barely speeding up the rhythm of his fingers fucking into you. His thumb on your nipple followed suit, matching the motion as tears filled your eyes. Your fingers threaded into his curls, your brows furrowed as you pulled on his hair. He grunted against you, not letting up as he worked you up toward the edge. 

When you came it was a whole body event. Your legs trembled, hips burning from the awkward angle Joel had bent you into. Your back arched, breath pausing in your chest. Your cunt clenched around his fingers, sucked tight and feeling every inch of them inside you. The pleasure was white-hot as it coursed through you, leaving your nerves buzzing and your ears ringing as your body went limp.

“So pretty when you come,” Joel said, his thick fingers still deep inside you.

You were almost nonverbal, your response a delirious sob as you looked up at Joel with watery eyes. He caressed your cheek, gently stroking your jaw and thumb wiping over your lower lip. You kissed the pad of it out of reflex, the motion making his expression soften for a moment.

Then he started to massage the spongy spot inside of your dripping pussy, making your eyes roll back. “Too sensitive,” you whined, grabbing onto his forearm in a weak attempt to stop him. 

“Trust me, baby, I’ve got you,” he said in that syrupy tone, gaze still locked on your face as you squirmed. He took his hand away from your cheek, holding one of your legs to keep you still as he fucked his fingers into you. “You can do one more for me, right?”

The need to please him made you nod, taking in a deep and shaky breath. You couldn’t do anything but take it, your mouth dropping open and your back arching. The overstimulation made you tremble, your whole body squirming. Breaths kept huffing out of you, your brows pinched tight as you tried to relax. It was hard to think straight, hell, it was hard to even breathe. 

Joel pulled his fingers out of you for a moment to strum over your swollen clit, only touching you with just enough pressure to drive you crazy. He continued until you were straining against him, moaning and sobbing his name. It was like he was carved from stone, hardly giving you any leeway as he kept you in place. The pressure in you built faster this time, it was almost embarrassing how quick he was able to get you to the edge. 

“Joel, Joel, Joel–ohmygod,” you gasped, reaching for purchase against his thigh. His dress pants were soft under your fingers as you squeezed, your body practically vibrating. 

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured soothingly, pressing a wet kiss to the back of your thigh as his fingers hooked back into you. 

Joel fucked you on them at a ruthless pace as his thumb rolled over the crest of your sex, your mouth opening in a wordless cry as you fell into your second orgasm of the night. You were completely lost, your eyes squeezed shut as your muscles spasmed against the restraint of Joel’s arms. White noise filled your mind, your body melting against Joel’s thighs and the bed as your legs fell open even further. 

He rubbed along the seam of your cunt soothingly, calloused fingers working you through the aftershocks. Your eyes were completely hazed when you looked up at him, splayed on the bed like every bone had been pulled from your body. He looked positively giddy, his wet fingers smearing on your thigh as he rubbed your legs in an effort to help you come back to yourself.

Joel let you off of him, returning your spine to the mattress as he leaned over you to give you a kiss. You hummed into it, smelling and tasting your salty-sweet slick on his lips and facial hair. “Please fuck me,” you begged between presses of his mouth, desperation easy to hear in your tone.

“‘Course I will, baby,” he said, getting off the bed to quickly undress himself. You shakily sat up, unclipping your bra at your back and tossing it aside. 

Joel was impressive, his body rippled with muscles beneath a layer of fat that told you he was eating well. Your gaze dragged down him, mouth watering as you finally saw his cock. It was big, the same tanned tone of his skin with a flushed tip. It jutted from a patch of trimmed, dark hair that was accentuated by the happy trail beneath his navel. You swallowed thickly, pussy clenching at the thought of him fucking you into the mattress.

You kissed him eagerly as he got back on the bed, part of you so desperate to please him. Joel was older than you, so much more experienced, you just wanted him to like you. 

He grunted, curling a hand around the back of your neck to keep you close. His other hand traveled down your body, massaging your hip with his thumb. You were putty in his hands, your own arms in a loop around his neck.

“Lay down,” Joel mumbled against the hinge of your jaw, nipping at the bone. You whimpered, fingers digging into the broad muscle of his shoulders as you complied. Joel ran a hand over you, sliding it down the valley between your breasts and over your soft stomach. 

The backs of your thighs were pressed against his quads as he took himself in his hand, sliding the blunt head of his cock along your pussy. You clenched around nothing, desperate and wanting. “Joel, please.” 

You couldn’t take waiting anymore.

He smirked, notching himself at your entrance and obliging you. Joel pressed and pressed and pressed until his hips were completely snug against yours. He split you in half across the width of his cock, moving slow to give you some time to adjust. It felt like he’d consumed all of the extra space in your body, you even felt him in your throat. 

You breathed brokenly, back arched and hips twitching as you struggled to find a comfortable position. You weren’t a virgin–weren’t anything close to it, really–but it felt just as overwhelming as your first time.

Joel bent over you, his elbows on either side of your head carrying his weight as he ground his hips against yours. His forehead pressed into your shoulder, a heated groan rumbling from his chest. It was hard to make sense of things, rattled breaths filling your chest as your mind whirred uselessly. He peppered kisses over your face, his lips wet and warm as he showered you in affection.

Then he moved his hips, the roll of them slow and syrupy and making you nearly choke. You grabbed at his biceps, an attempt to anchor yourself to him as he started to rut his hips into yours. He made room for himself with every press of his cock, molding you to the shape of him.

Joel collected your leg with a rough hand, pushing your knee toward your chest. He let it come to rest in the curve of his elbow, palm pressed flat to the comforter as he spread you open wider. Your hips protested as he splayed you apart, the discomfort easily taking a backseat to your pleasure.

You keened, mouth falling open as he sank even deeper inside of you. Your breaths came out in little mewls, matching Joel’s grunts as you met each thrust with a weak roll of your hips. His lips were at your throat, sucking more marks into the skin and his facial hair scratching against you. “Goddamn, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” Joel groaned into the curve of your neck, still keeping an even rhythm

You let out a breathy laugh–you felt the same way about him. He lifted himself to get a better look at you, dark brown eyes as warm as the summer sun as his gaze drifted all the way down to where his cock was buried in you. He grunted at the sight, pupils dilating like drops of ink in water.

His free hand lifted off its elbow, his weight shifting to one side so he could wet the pad of his thumb with a lick of his tongue. You were making sounds you couldn’t control, each thrust pushing a small gasp from your throat. Then, Joel dropped his hand to your lower abdomen, gently tracing the curve of your belly down into the soft thatch of hair you hadn’t bothered to shave.

A calloused thumb found your clit, swirling over it with a confident pressure in a way that made your eyes nearly roll back in your skull. Joel was pounding into the spot that made you see stars, merciless in his pace. “Joel… oh god…”

You could feel the flutter of your orgasm starting, your legs trembled against his arm and the curve of his waist. You chanted his name like a prayer, overstimulated tears starting to squeeze out of the corners of your eyes and roll into your hairline. He just soldiered on, grinding his thumb over your clit as he worked you higher and higher toward the edge.

A rattling gasp escaped your throat as you pulsed around Joel, your brows pinching and your body stiffening beneath his. You could feel the release from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head, your nails digging into his thick biceps as the flickering pleasure turned into a full on forest fire. You leaned up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto the mattress with you as you held him close.

“Fuck,” Joel moaned into your neck. His thrusts became sloppy fast, his discipline gone to the wayside now that he made you come on his cock. You felt him twitch inside you, his breath coming out in hot huffs against the curve of your shoulder. His hand grabbed your hip, pulling you down to match his frantic thrusts as he moaned your name into your skin.

You wanted to pull his head away from you so you could see how his face looked when he finished. The muscles in his abdomen clenched, his hips grinding tight to yours as he came inside of you. You moaned with him, the feeling of being filled up by him satiating a need you didn’t know you had as you dragged your blunt nails on his scalp.

Joel finally collapsed, the weight of his body pressing down on you as you combed your fingers through his hair. His hips were cradled by your legs, sweat slicking your skin wherever it was pressed together. You breathed against one another, pulling each other close as you basked in the afterglow.

You were sharing the same air, pressing loose kisses to each other's warm skin as you melted into each other for an unknown amount of time. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours.

“We should clean up,” you finally breathed, able to come back to yourself. 

Joel nodded against your neck, you felt it more than you saw it. You giggled after he didn’t move, still leaving you helpless and pinned beneath him. He seemed to make himself even more comfortable, arms constricting around you and face nuzzling closer to your throat.

“Joel,” you chastised, lightly shoving at his shoulder. It was half-hearted and meaningless–you were more than content to stay here all night if you had to.

“I like how you say that, Joel,” he said, mimicking your voice in an annoyingly high-pitched tone. It made you laugh, throwing your head back against the comforter as you shook it. 

He hissed, pulling away from you just enough to prop himself up on an elbow. “You clench around me like a fucking vise when you laugh like that, baby,” Joel muttered, swirling his fingertips over your skin. He didn’t move to pull out of you quite yet, the two of you relishing in the intimacy of your embrace.

A slow smirk crossed his face, his dark eyes flickering back up to meet yours. “Plus, what’s the point of cleaning up if I’m not done with you yet?”

–

Needless to say, you were sneaking out of his room when the dregs of sunlight started streaming through the hotel room windows, sore and exhausted, with his phone number typed into your phone and his hickeys all over your skin.

[vicsy]

maxiel wrestling au ✨ 2.7k words that boinked me in the head cause i miss the good old days.

The new guy is way too green to be fit into a match right before the main event and Daniel voices his genuine concern with zero hesitation. It's his reputation at risk. Christian claps him on the shoulder assuredly, paints the guy — his name is Max and he goes by Super Max until creative will have something to do with that, fuck's sake — in the brightest colors. Tries to make a sell, a corporate rat in and out of the ring.  

And the thing is, the new guy is sort of gloomy, doesn't smile much even when Daniel offers his signature greeting. He's not a fucking asshole, he won't tell a rookie to go to hell for that. They've all been there, first day jitters and all. But, man, this new guy. Something is off about him. 

His ring gear, for starters, and Daniel shouldn't be the judge since his mom made him his first ill-fitting set back in Australia when Daniel was seventeen and scrawny, fresh-faced with crooked teeth and the energy of three hundred power plants. So, yeah, it's bad wrestling etiquette or whatever but the outline of a lion in the middle of the rookies' — sorry, Max's — ass is… something. The blue and gold shorty shorts fit alright, though, Daniel does give them an appreciative look. He prefers pants and shin guards, that's all.  

And, shit, looks like this Super Max, for crying out loud, designs his gear himself, judging by this very self-indulgent print. People are gonna tear him to shreds, like vultures; crush his spirit, knowing how this biz works when you're twenty-five and still wide-eyed, full of dreams of making it big, becoming the next Shawn Michaels or The Great Senna. 

Max is surely no wrestling royalty, no Rosberg or Flair or Schumaher. His dad was some midcarder in the late eighties back when FWF was at the cusp of breaking viewership records. And, surely, Max is a texbook continuation of his father's unfulfilled hopes. Daniel can read it in the way Max held himself, in the way his arms fidget when he talks and beside him Christian nods, proud, like it was his son making his big screen debut.

Daniel wonders, why him. Putting Max against younger guys would have been more plausible. Putting a company rookie against an established champion definitely seemed like a choice. 

"Don't forget that I make the calls, Daniel," Christian says, the finality in his voice clear as day when Max steps away to put his signature on a contract for the night. Then the suit-and-tie fucker gives him a cunning little smile and Daniel swallows a witty response stuck on the tip of his tongue. "Besides, he asked very, uh, insistently to pair you two up. How could I have been in the right mind to say no to the future of wrestling wanting to take on one of the crowd favorites?"

Well. Fuck. Daniel would know how, being an absolute gem on the mic but nobody's asking, so he's shit out of luck in that department. And currently booked in match with a guy who apparently admires him. Same height and, what? Eight years younger? Daniel tries not to read it as a sign for retirement. 

They settle on a cage match and, surely, it means essentially throwing Max into the deep end from day one but his eyes shine eagerly and he goes on a tangent, dissects the match step by step as if he's been running with the FWF for as long as Daniel did. Ten fucking years, thank you very much, and he knows damn well how to put on a show without some jobber — alright, sure, Daniel isn't supposed to squash him but still — running his mouth with a wrestling for dummies kind of talk. But Max didn't look like the same person who glowered at Daniel minutes before. He seems like someone who loved wrestling with all his being, lived and breathed the craft, came alive with the sound of the bell, the boos and cheers; the bruises and tore muscles, broken bones and bittersweet victories. 

"We doing the spot?" Daniel interrupts but in good nature, stretching his shoulders one by one, wearing a lazy smile to hide his annoyance. He half expects Max to refuse, back out of it. Wouldn't blame him, really. "Top of the cage, before the bell."

"Of course," Max answers too quickly, voice croaky, his chin lifted high as if Daniel offended him. Doubted him on the spot; doubted his hunger to make a name in the biggest wrestling federation known in the world. "It's a cage match after all. We have to make a good show."

We, huh? Perhaps the kid knows a thing or two. 

"Yeah, cool," Daniel tugs his Beats on, cues a special playlist in a pre-match ritual. "See ya in the ring, Super Maxy-Max."

He walks off to warm up as the show begins but not before noticing a sudden blush on Max's pale cheeks, his chest puffing with a response that he breathes out in a language Daniel can't place. He bounces around backstage, high-fives miserable-looking Charles on his way from the ring. His chest is streaked with red lines. Poor guy took the brunt of Fernando's chops. Daniel could still hear his music playing as he celebrated a win accompanied by heartfelt boos of the crowd. Eh, fucking marks. 

Daniel makes a point of not acknowledging Max at gorilla position, adjusting his shockingly colourful ring gear instead, slinging the FWF championship belt over his shoulder. It's childish to use it as a shield and Daniel is the nicest guy to his core, cross his heart, but the wrestling biz is cutthroat. And even Max's music is not on par with the standarts when it plays after Daniel finished making his way to the ring, greeted the crowd and sent the shirt he wore flying towards the grabby hands of his faithful fans. They are, truly so, booing loudly along with the generic entrance song, letting Max feel their disdain from the start, not letting him mistake it as a warm welcome. Not against their favorite Badger. 

And yet, Max's face remains blank. The way he slowly removes his own t-shirt and neatly leaves it on the side of the ring pulls a chuckle out of Daniel. God, he's so spectacularly green. 

Simply on the grounds of Daniel being a fucking face, he reaches his hand out after the bell dings and the metal cage above them descends agonizingly slow, inviting Max to lock up; a class act. Max knocks his hand away, expression scrunched in a mask of disgust. Daniel takes every assumption he made back; they're about to have a grand ol' time. 

Max's style is a bit choppy but he doesn't strike Daniel as a high-flying type. Mostly old school moves, orchestrated to a precision not every rookie has. They exchange a couple of blows and Daniel takes initiative for the time being. He ducks away from a spear and Max hits the turnbuckle shoulder first, turning with a grimace of pain. He doesn't oversell, a great fucking sign for them both, and Daniel bounces off the ropes to deliver a flying knee to the side of Max's jaw. He takes it magnificently, falling to his knees completely unbalanced. 

Maybe, just maybe, he owes Christian the benefit of the doubt. At very least, their styles are a match, perfect opposites to elevate each other's strengths. Max's brawler against Daniel's technician; a study of contrasts between the brawn and the showmanship. 

He ends up putting Max in a figure-four smack dab in the middle of the ring so he can’t reach for the ropes to save himself and, shit, he sells so wonderfully that Daniel's mind wanders. There is something in the bend of Max's neck, in the strength of his entire figure — built but limber, writhing under Daniel's scrutiny, completely at his mercy. The give Max's body begs to be molded in his hands and, suddenly, a startlingly clear image surfaces at the back of Daniel's mind. Tag matches turning into tag titles, titles turning into a betrayal to feed the storyline; and then the redemption arc.

Then, a reunion. Full circle. Squared circle.

It's breathtaking, in truth. The easy push and pull, the synergy buzzing in the air between them, Max struggling out of the submission hold to pin Daniel's shoulders against the mat. A brash fucking attempt for a pin; he kicks out at one and rolls some distance away, eyeing Max to add to the dramatic of their unlikely clash. 

The crowd goes wild. Daniel stretches his lips in a smile, sharp like the jagged edges of the glass they pour out for hardcore matches. He catches himself thinking that he'd go for one with Max. Maybe just to see those lips bloodied, returning his smile tenfold. 

Time's almost out, the referee lets them know discreetly. Daniel lets Max turn the tide, drive him head first into the wall of the cage, hitting through the ropes with a clang. Daniel's head gets beaten against the turnbuckle, his back slammed against the mat with a perfectly executed chokeslam and the crowd gasps with sympathy. Max busies himself with prying the gate of the cage open, acting the heel part eerily well as Daniel catches his breath, sells Max's beating appropriately, without an overkill. 

He pulls Daniel outside of the cage, outside the ring, dragging his face against the barricade towards the commentator table. Max makes sure to interact with the crows, give them an opportunity to hate him, call him names. Something akin to adoration swells in Daniel's chest; he doesn't understand where it's coming from and then Max clotheslines him hard and he crumbles onto the floor lined with thin mats.

Good move, that. Suits the set up right.

Max almost throws a middle finger to the crowd and starts climbing the side of the cage with a single intent, much to the horror of the arena. Yeah, real fucking marks but Daniel wouldn't have it any other way. He counts to thirty in his head, sprawled flat on his back near the commentator table, having one of their tiny screens jammed in his midsection before by Max's enthusiastic efforts. He counts and follows the lines of Max's body, the broadness of his shoulders and the paleness of his skin. It makes Daniel's mind wander anew, in a direction it shouldn't, not in the middle of a high-risk match. 

The crowd gets antsy, urging Daniel to get the hell up, and so he does, Max halfway up on the cage, unknowing, with a sinister plan of his own. His muscles protest but it's hardly anything new. Daniel manages to catch up to Max in a flurry of adrenaline-addled motion, reaching up to hook his hand in Max's ridiculous shorts. Max looks down at him, expression purely shocked to satisfy the crowd and Daniel counts again as he tugs. Once, twice.

It's never pleasant, plummeting down and straight onto the commentator table. It breaks with a horrible sound under Max's back and he lies there, unmoving, the commentators standing not far away, still doing their job. Daniel hangs onto the slippery metal of the cage, listening to the crowd yelling and frothing at the mouth for him to do the thing they all came here for. He raises one hand and pumps his fists in the air twice, eliciting a reaction that makes his mind go into an overdrive. 

He takes a breath, bending his elbow for his signature move and jumps.

The Ricciardo Special lands beautifully on Max's midsection, making him yelp and seize from the pain. Daniel is so used to hitting the ground this way but the calmness that comes hand in hand with the fall is forever unsettling. Max breathes raggedly underneath him, limbs akimbo and his eyes half-shut, eyelashes fanning his splotched cheeks. From Daniel's point of view he looks like someone gave him a fuck of a lifetime. The sight makes Daniel's heart skip.

In the wreckage at the ringside, the perpetual hunger Daniel left unsated stirs impatiently, awakening from a famished slumber.  

Max's body under his own feels like it belongs; feels like a missing piece finally fitting. It hits Daniel like a freight train, the all-encompassing normalcy in the midst of controlled chaos.

He squeezes Max's wrist twice in a silent question, their limbs tangled together on the broken bits of the table. Max's fingers twitch against his hold — yes, I'm okay. 

And the show goes on towards the long-awaited climax. 

It takes Daniel thirty seconds to peel Max off the floor by the back of his neck, squeezing tight and roughly hauling him back inside the cage, rolling them both into the ring. It's a whole ordeal, his body exhausted and Max matches him there, too, playing the beaten to the pulp heel as if he's been doing it since he learned how to walk. Daniel drags him to the middle of the mat again, admiring the pliancy with which Max follows. There's a persistent ringing in his ears and an electric shock wracks through him when he gets his hand's on parts of Max's body he managed not yet to touch, no resistance as he bends him in half, Daniel's palm sliding against the sweaty skin under Max's knees. The referee appears next to them, slamming his palm against the mat.

One. Two. 

And when Max eats the pin like he's supposed to, like they've settled in the pre-match booking with Christian, Max's prominent mouth pressed into a thin line making Daniel think who the fuck does this jobber think he is, all the sounds of the packed arena rush into his ears as the bell rings and the cage finally lifts, freeing them. The crowd erupts and Daniel rolls over onto his back, gulping air, Max's arm pinned under him, sweaty skin sticking together. His music hits like a fucking tornado; another win sequred under his belt but all Daniel can muster at that moment is to turn his head against the stiffness in his neck, catching Max's gaze already trained on him. Mouth open, chest rising up and falling so rapidly Daniel seems to lose his breath again. 

Or perhaps it's the shine in Max's eyes, their color clear-blue like the spotlights above. Daniel finds it hard to look away and he desperately needs to drag himself to his feet, clutch the championship belt to his chest, an assurance of his stature; something solid to hang on to.

Max asked to wrestle him first. Daniel grasps at the foreign feeling blooming behind his ribcage.

His win doesn't feel like one. Not with Max suddenly so close to claiming a space for himself, claiming what's his and he's so damned good it scares Daniel momentarily. But the fear dissipates as quickly as the pain does when someone lands a chair shot just the right way. A satisfying kind of pain. With a slight twitch of his mouth, Max is the first to move away, further to the ropes. The skin of his back is angry red, the mess of moles speckled with blood where the impact from the commentator table scratched and tore into his flesh. 

Max rolls off the ring and limps up the ramp, holding his ribs gingerly. He turns when the referee raises Daniel's hand and he manages to straighten the other one with belt in it, showing it off as you still got it echoes in a thousand voices. For the first time he doesn't revel in the outpour of love and adoration, the crowd clapping and chanting his name. He doesn't look them over with a smile and his chest still feels caged, much like he and Max were moments ago, locked in what wasn't just a match. 

Something snaps; something ends. Daniel feels the shift clear, like the Earth tilting on its axis taking him with it and leaving Max standing still, his scuffed, golden boots rooted firmly to the ground. The weight of the championship belt turns laden, drags Daniel deep into the uncharted waters as he stares Max down, challenging and unabashed, blood thrumming with adrenaline. The bundled tightness in his chest lingers and lingers and lingers.

A corner of Max's mouth quirks up, eyes crinkling; no real malice behind them, just an answer to a soundless call, a promise for more. 

Daniel feels like he's the one plummeting down from the cage, from the top of a tower he built in his own name, not with stone but with blood, sweat and tears. Max follows suit, crashing into him without reservation, raw talent and blunt force, the soft edges of him breaking through skin and bone going straight for the heart; straight for the pin. 

The count follows, inescapably.

In his mind, Daniel doesn't kick out. 

[inkwise]

Headcanon #5: Co-workers

Here’s a list of canon characters (as of Chapter 4) that Henry knew when he still worked at Joey Drew Studios:

(Note: these are just based on my interpretation! If you have a different headcanon I’m more than willing to talk to you about how it may work.)

Joey Drew - Obvious. His old pal and boss.

Wally Franks - A funny and talkative guy, if a bit annoying when he was trying to get a shot done.

Thomas Connor - Had a sensible mind, which was a relief while working with the odd man Joey was.

Sammy Lawrence - Was incredibly irritable, but good enough to share a smoke with.

Susie Campbell - A good pick to voice Alice, but she seemed incredibly attached to the character.

Jack Fain - When the talkies became popular, the studio was quick to hire him. He kept to himself, though.

Norman Polk - Offered some odd wisdom whenever Henry got a chance to talk to him.

Grant Cohen - Complained about Joey’s ideas a lot, which was fair considering how expensive they were.

Shawn Flynn seems too young for Henry to know, considering his attitude for working under Joey Drew Studios. At the latest, he might’ve been a child right before Henry left.

Allison Pendle was probably a more recent edition to the voice acting cast. Susie’s tapes suggests that she had a long while to get attached to Alice Angel (even going as far as claiming no qualms about being called “Alice”), and I’m also willing to pin Allison as pretty young, too.

The amusement park was a pretty late idea on Joey’s part. Oh sure, Henry might have heard of the great Bertrum Piedmont and his achievements, might even have seen a few of his attractions personally, but he’s never met the guy. Lacie seems like the kind of person who was hired specifically as Bertrum’s assistant, too, so it’s unlikely she’s met Henry before.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Darling

Pairing: Tom Holland x Singer!Reader

Synopsis: Your new song may expose your relationship with Tom before you’re ready

Masterlist

“We have to talk about Darling.”

“Your new single, Darling, just dropped. Let’s talk about it.”

“Okay, I’ve been dying to know more about Darling since it came out. Tell us everything.”

“And you just had a single come out! What can you tell us about Darling?”

Your new song was on everyone’s lips after dropping, and became all interviewers wanted to talk about. Your responses were carefully crafted and practiced as to not give too much information away. After being asked the same questions day after day, your responses became a little repetitive and rehearsed.

“I’m really excited about this song. It’s the first song I’ve written entirely by myself so it means a lot to me. It’s about being in love for the first time and all the wonders that come with it. I wanted to immortalize that feeling with this song. I’m really appreciative of the response I’ve gotten to it.” You’d say sincerely with a warm smile. It always pleased the reporters. 

“Being in love for the first time? Can we have a name?”

“Is there a special someone in your life who inspired the song?”

“That’s beautiful! Who’s it about?”

“Oooo. Please tell me more. Who did you write it for?”

It was common, expected even, to be asked about your love life. You knew the questions were coming and came prepared.

“There’s always a someone.” You’d blush. “I’ve been seeing a boy for over two years now. He’s taught me everything I know about love. I’ve dated before but being with him is the first time I’ve really been utterly and truly in love with someone. This song is my love letter to him. And “darling” is his nickname for me, so it fits.” You’d tell them.

The interviewers and reporters would gush and beam and sigh in content. But of course, you couldn’t avoid the the inevitable.

“Is that someone Tom Holland? He’s been known to call you “darling” as a nickname.”

“I have to ask since the whole internet is wondering, is the song really about Tom Holland?”

“I’m sure you’ve seen the rumors that this song is about your good friend, Tom Holland. Lyrics like, “We had a sweet start, that whole friends to lovers. Now his mom calls me “baby” and I’m close with all his brothers.” made fans speculate that you two are finally more than friends. Is that true?”

“Fans were quick to notice that your lyrics, “If he asked, I’d follow him wherever he went. He won me over with those brown eyes and that sultry little accent.” ,could be alluding to Tom, since he is brown eyed and has an accent.”

Rumors about you and Tom being more than friends started circling when you first met, and stopped being rumors almost three years ago. You and Tom had both agreed to keep the relationship a secret, but that didn’t stop you from writing songs about him. Darling might have been too obviously about Tom, you feared.

“No, it’s not about Tom. Toms a good friend, but that’s the extent of our relationship.” You’d lie through a smile.

Some interviewers accepted it. Some were disappointed, others satisfied. Others, of course, were still skeptical.

You walked into your home that day, exhausted from your long day of interviews. You dropped you bag on the couch and stretched a little.

“Darling? Is that you?” Tom called from the kitchen. You waltzed over time where he was and smiled at the sight of your boyfriend. He was cooking pasta, the one thing he knew how to make, and had your pink apron tied around his waist.

“Hi, baby.” You wrapped your arms around his waist and sighed against his back. You felt his relax under your touch as he measured out the pasta.

“Hello, darling. How was your day?” He asked as he picked up your wrist and pressed a kiss to it.

“Really good, actually. I got to talk about you all day.” You told him as you placed a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“Really?” He asked as he tossed some chopped up peppers in a pan.

“Yeah, minus saying your name, obviously. Everyone wanted to know what my song was about and I couldn’t help but gush over you. I denied us being together though, so no one knows I meant you.” You said as you took the peppers out of the pan and chopped them into smaller pieces.

“You denied us?” Tom swallowed thickly and didn’t meet your eyes.

“Well, yeah. I thought that’s what we wanted? We agreed we were gonna keep us a secret until we were ready.” You said, trying to see if he was angry or not.

“I know.” Tom nodded in poorly concealed disappointment. “I just thought this song meant you were ready.”

“If the world knew about us, they’d ask a million questions and poke and pry at everything we did. I like that we’re the only ones who know. I thought you felt that way too.” You said quietly.

“I do.” Tom said quickly. “Or, I did. I just can’t help but feeling upset whenever you call me your “friend” in an interview or deny us being together. I waited a long time to be with you. I can’t held but feeling disheartened when I see you pretend we’re nothing more than friends. I wish I didn’t feel that way, but I do, darling. I’m sorry.” Tom looked at you apologetically and you sighed. You reached out to touch his cheek and he lightly kissed your palm.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” You told him as you rubbed his back.

“When do I get to hear the song? I want to know what all the buzz is about.” He decided to change the subject.

“I want you to hear it for the first time when we film the music video.” You explained. “You can stand behind the camera and it’ll be like I’m singing it just to you.”

“When are you shooting?” He asked.

“Friday.” You answered.

“I’ll be there.” He smiled, but you could still see the sadness in his eyes.

Friday came quickly and you stood on set in a floor length gown with your hair in loose curls, ready to film your music video.

“The pink dress was a good call. The red wasn’t working with the background.” Your manager nodded as he examined your outfit.

“I think so too. Are we ready to get started?” You asked as someone from behind you touched up your hair.

“Ready when you are. Just one last thing, I’d like you to meet your co-star.” Your manger ushered Tom in front of you, dressed in much nicer clothes than he arrived in. His pale pink shirt under his brown leather jacket matched your dress and you smiled.

“Tommy? You’re gonna be in the video?” You asked happily.

“Your management team just asked me two seconds ago. They said something about it being good for publicity since all the rumors are going around.” Tom shrugged a little sadly. You knew he didn’t want to be in the video for publicity. He wanted to be in it because you wanted him to be in it.

“Okay. You can stand over here with me.” You lead him to the microphone stand and wrapped your fingers around the mic. Tom stood behind you awkwardly and you noticed his discomfort. You took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as the music started.

“Action!” The director called. Your song began to play and the dancers behind you spun and twirled around. Tom got more comfortable as the song went on and began to loosen up.

“I’ve caught the love bug for a boy from Great Britain. He may be radioactive but I’m the one who was bitten.” You looked into his eyes as he heard the song for the first time. A shy smile dawned Toms face as a blush painted his cheeks.

“He’s short and sweet, like my favorite poem. I looked in his eyes and I found my way home.” You sang along and Tom twirled you around. He pressed himself against your back and gently swayed to the music.

“When I wake up in the morning, he’s the first one I pray for. Don’t you know? He’s my hero, the only man I adore.” You wrapped the arm that wasn’t holding the microphone around his neck and held him close. The band played the musical break as red and pink rose petals fell from the ceiling. You and Tom began to slow dance as the music swelled, and he laughed lightly when rose petals got caught in your hair. He brushed one out of your hair and cupped you chin. You closed the space between you and kissed him passionately before singing the final verse. He kept his head in the crook of your neck as you sang.

“I swear on my life, you won’t meet a boy more charming. He’ll always be my baby, and I’ll always be his darling.” You finished. The director yelled “cut” and the dancers dispersed. Tom turned to you and laced his fingers through yours.

“I loved the song, darling. You never fail to amaze me with what you can do. Thank you so much.” Tom said sincerely with misty eyes, your song moved him emotionally.

“I should be thanking you. You’re the one who inspired it.” You shrugged and Tom pulled you closer.

“Are you sure about the kiss being in the video? Are you ready for the world to know?” Tom asked timidly.

“I’m in love with the sweetest, kindest, most talented man alive. It’s about time the world found out.” You smiled proudly as his eyes lit up.

“I love you too, darling.” He grinned.

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona​ @sunrise-shawn​  @foreverxholland​ @writing-for-hours-on-end​ @lavender-writer​ @captainmandeestudent17​ @whatareyouhidingpeter​ @takenbyheartstrings​ @ultrunning​ @imyourliquor-youremypoison​ @theolwebshooter​ @autumnlyholland @andreasworlsboring101​ @guksmyfav​ @waiting-to-be-myself​ @letsloveimagines​ @ho-ho-holland​ @peterparkoure​ @a-villain-vying-for-attention​ @m19friend @justcallmehitgirl​ @iamanerdot @averyfosterthoughts​ @jackiehollanderr​ @tiny-friggin-human​ @celestial-skylines​

[audzarts]

“So what if I went and painted some of those Bendy dolls with a crooked smile?”

Shawn Flynn - 11/21/19

[preferredrealty]

Prize - A CEO!Shawn Mendes Imagine

This is based on my favourite song at the moment and mostly inspired by the music video: Rascal Flatts - Come Wake Me Up.

Masterlist

Part Two

Warnings: Smut and Angst

(This is my first smut! I apologise if it sucks.)

As Always, Feedback is appreciated 💛🌻

-

(Y/N) looked around the ballroom filled with her Fiancés colleges and friends. Expensive gowns and tuxedos passed by in blurs as she twiddled with the ring on her finger. She traced the diamond sitting in the centre, its size still a little unnerving to her. She felt like she would never get used to this, the luxury of living a life with Shawn Mendes. The CEO of Mendes Productions.

Her eyes caught Shawn’s from across the ballroom. His right hand clutching a crystal cut glass, no doubt filled with a ridiculously over priced bourbon. His left hand waved through the air gracefully as he told his story, the three business men crowding him entranced. That was just who Shawn was, an enchanting, perfect gentleman.

(Y/N) glances down at the dress hugging her body. Once again, expensive and nothing like her past self would have indulged in, however Shawn insisted.

“The best for my lady.”

Her eyes shifted to his suit; the same colour, custom made to match her dress. A hand on her shoulder shook (Y/N) from her daze. Plastering the smile she had faked time and time again at these events, she turned to he met with three of Shawn’s business partners wives.

“It’s good to see you Darling!” Jessica, a middle aged woman with platinum blonde hair air kissed both (Y/N)’s cheeks. The other two stood silent but with smiles on their cheeks. Following Jessica like a flock of sheep to their Shepard. “Let’s see it again Darling!” Jessica snatched (Y/N)’s left hand, staring at the engagement ring. “My, my. That boy knows what he’s doing.” She huffed, dropping (Y/N)’s hand.

(Y/N) eyed the ring. A grin on her face as she thought of the day he asked. 

X

“Shawn!” (Y/N) squealed as he guided her through the destination he had kept a secret from her, his hands covering her eyes. “I’ve got you baby!” He laughed as they reached their end. “Okay, 3..2..Look!” Shawn pulled his hands away, (Y/N)’s eyes adjusting to see they were in a pottery room, clay bowls and other artworks lined the walls on shelves making her clap he hands and giggle.

“I know you’ve always wanted to try pottery since you watched Ghost....so I took a few me lessons, now you and I-“ he paused leading her to the turn table where all the supplies were. “Can act out our own scene from ghost!” Shawn said excitedly. His eyes meeting (Y/N)’s as they stood side by side. A huge smile on her face as she threw herself onto him, her hips crashing onto his. “I love you so much Shawn Mendes.” She sighed happily before clapping her hands. “Okay! Show me how it’s done.”

-

Almost an hour later they were covered in clay, their laughter filling the room as their hands moved together to make the shape they wanted.

Shawn leaned forward kissing the back of (Y/N)’s neck making her hand slip causing a dent at the lip of the vase. “Shawn you made me- Hey! It looks like a heart!” She giggled looking at the way the dent had shaped it like a heart. “It’s perfect now!” She smiled looking at Shawn.

He bit his lip standing from behind her, lifting a skinny pointy tool kneeling by the pot. “Almost perfect, turn around.” He whispered watching as (Y/N) swirled in her seat.

Carefully he moved the tool through the clay, working delicately before nodding, walking to stand in front of (Y/N) again wiping his hands in his apron. “You can look now.” He grinned as (Y/N) span in her chair. Her heart squeezing at what she seen.

Written in his perfect hand writing inside a huge heart on the side of the vase the world “will you marry me?” Greeted her eyes making her gasp.

Turning she found Shawn kneeling in front of her, a blue velvet box open showing a beautiful ring. “I love you (Y/N). So so much. Will you do me the honour of becoming Mrs Mendes?” He grinned.

(Y/N) squealed throwing herself into his lap kissing him over and over. “Of course I will!” She cried as they both laughed together, happy tears streaming down both their faces.

x

They chatted a little, well (Y/N) listened as Jessica and her two minions shit talked the entire female population in the ballroom. (Y/N) raised the champagne flute to her clear glossed lips. Almost chocking as a hand grabbed her chin.

Acting on instinct (Y/N) smacked the hand away. Staring in shock at Jessica who was now glaring at the dangling earrings in (Y/N)’s ears. “Excuse me?! Do you mind?” (Y/N) sassed. The attitude she fought down everyday raising to the surface as she leaned her weight on one hip, bracing her hands on her waist.

“How do you have those?! They were only released today! Those cost more than my damn car!” Jessica seethed. As far as (Y/N) could remember, Jessica drove a white Bentley Bentaya, which was well over a six digit number in price.

“Shawn gave them to me just before we came, they were a gift.” (Y/N) could suddenly feel the weight of the earrings, feeling them slowly pull her to the ground. Jessica stepped closer, her chest almost brushing (Y/N)’s.

“He’s just got you sitting like his pretty little doll hasn’t he? Like a prize on display. Sitting perfectly like a painting he bought for millions.” The bitter tone in Jessica’s voice stiffened (Y/N)’s muscles. As (Y/N) reared back the hand still holding her champagne, prepared to give Jessica a attitude cleanse, a strong hand wrapped around her wrist and a strong chest pressed to her back.

Hot breath hit the side of her neck as a kiss was pressed to her cheek. “Baby.” Shawn’s soft voice flowed through the air settling her nerves.

“Dance with me.” Was all he said before taking her champagne flute and handing it to Jessica, quickly whisking (Y/N) away to the dance floor, filled with couples swaying slowly to the orchestra playing in the corner of the room.

“What happened baby?” He whispered pressing a kiss to her hairline. Moving her left hand to sit on his heart, his thumb rubbing over the back of her hand occasionally nudging the ring on her finger. “It was just Jessica being Jessica. You know how she is.” (Y/N) whispered glancing back to see the three girls whispering while looking at her. A frown grew between her perfectly groomed brows, before a soft kiss was pressed onto the skin.

“A beautiful piece of art like you shouldn’t be frowning Baby.” He whispered into her ear pulling her closer.

‘His pretty little doll’

‘Prize on display’

‘Like a painting he bought for millions.’

‘A beautiful piece of art like you shouldn’t be frowning baby.”

(Y/N) suddenly felt dizzy. The music felt too loud, the air too thin. Her heart pounded in her ears as she shook her head pushing away from Shawn.

“I- I want to go home.” She said quietly before walking towards the doors. Shawn stood confused for a moment before following her out.

-

The drive back to their shared home was long. Long enough for (Y/N) go over her thought. They spun in a wheel, causing her brain to throb.

The forest surrounding their home passed by quickly as James, the driver Shawn hired drove at a slightly faster speed, feeling the thick tension in the car.

Shawn was staring at (Y/N). Trying to meet her gaze, eyes pleading to know what was happening. Why she was acting like this. Not just tonight but for the past few weeks. She had been distant, sitting in the room he had transformed into a reading room, filled with every book she could want. Plush cushions and custom couches filled the corner of the room but when Shawn had peeked in she was sitting against the wall made of glass, watching the woods around their house.

He was worried and it was slowly eating away at him.

As they pulled up to the black iron gates of their home, James typed a code into his phone, the gates opening smoothly before him. The drive up the small hill to their house seemed to last forever. As the car stopped (Y/N) grabbed her gold clutch, pulling her keys out saying a thank you and goodnight to Adam before walking into the house.

Shawn sat for a moment. He usually was up and out of the car to open her door for her but she was lightening fast this time. Chewing on his bottom lip Shawn met James’ eyes through the mirror. Sympathy clearly shown in them. Sliding James a tip, Shawn stepped out, slowly walking up the white marble steps to the large glass front door.

It was quiet. Too quiet for his liking. It was never like this. They were always singing, or had some kind of music playing.

Walking through the house Shawn found (Y/N) standing at the glass wall of their bedroom, looking down into the pool below. Walking up behind her, his hands cupped the sides of her waist. His lips kissing the skin of her shoulder before resting his head in the crook of her neck.

“Talk to me baby. Let me fix this.” He whispered. Another kiss being placed to her neck. “I can tell you’re slipping away...I’ve felt it for a while now.” He lifted his head from her neck, spinning her to face him.

It was then he noticed how glossy her eyes were, tears just sitting on her lash line but not falling.

She shook her head, leaning up to kiss his cheek, her hands gripping the lapels of his jacket. “It’s nothing Honey. Just feeling emotional is all.” Shawn eyed her, watching for any shift in her stance.

(Y/N) leaned forward pressing her lips against his, distracting him momentarily from his mission to find out what was upsetting his fiancé.

Pushing her hands under his jacket she slipped it off his shoulders. Fingers working to unbutton the silky black shirt beneath. Leaning him in just a white tank top and teal slacks as he toed off his black boots.

Reaching his hands behind her back, Shawn pulled the zip down slowly, his fingers tracing her spin as he went causing goosebumps to form on her skin. Kissing his was down her neck, Shawn slipped the thin down her arms, the dress pooling at her feet the second after. Leaving her in a silky lingerie set, the same colour as the dress. The bra strapless leaning her collar bones free for him to kiss over.

Holding her waist Shawn turned her around, gently backing her to sit on the black silk bedsheets of their Californian King bed. Kneeling down between her legs, Shawn lifted on foot, kissing from her ankle to her knee, unbuckling the gold heels she had walked so gracefully in all night. Giving the other leg the same treatment, Shawn stood up, pulling the black belt from its loops, effortlessly stepping out of his slacks. Pulling the white top over the top of his head, tossing it aside.

Leaning over (Y/N) she gave him a smile, a smile that he had burned into his brain from the first time they slept together on a stormy day, the smile was soft, warm and full of love making his heart swell. His lips met hers again as he brought his hips down on hers, a soft moan leaning her lips as he kissed down her neck, moving (Y/N)’s legs to rest on his thighs he set up straight, pulling her along with him.

A blush had formed on (Y/N)’s chest as Shawn kissed from one shoulder to another, reaching behind her, undoing her bra easily. Tossing it with the rest of the clothes he kissed her neck once more before meeting her lips. Laying them both flat once again.

“Shawn.” She whispered pushing her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. “Please.” Unable to say no to his princess. Shawn gently removed the remaining fabric between them, moving (Y/N) to the plush pillows, pulling the thin back sheet over their naked bodies.

Leaning down he kissed her cheeks, her nose, forehead and then her lips as he grabbed her hands in his, intertwining their fingers above her head and with one swift move, they both fell into a pit of bliss.

-

Shawn woke to an empty bed. The sheets still ruffled, the clothes from a few hours before lay folded on the dresser making him smile.

The smile faded when he looked around, something wasn’t right. It felt cold in the house. Like the love that made it warm and homey had been snuffed out. Standing he quickly pulled on a pair of boxers and sweats, throwing a zip hoodie on leaving it open as he quickly ran out of their shared bedroom to find (Y/N).

He checked all the rooms, even ran up to the roof terrace and looked through the windows into the pool, seeing nothing but rain drops hitting it.

Hearing the tapping of heels he ran to the main entrance of the house. There (Y/N) stood in clothes he hadn’t seen on her in a long time. Tight black pants hugged her legs, a leather jacket zipped up on her torso showed off the curves of her body.

In her hands was a teal vase. One that sat on a white marble pedestal, five others sat on their own pedestal spaced out around the square room.

“What am I to you?” Her voice shook Shawn to the core, hearing it void of emotions. “What? Baby you’re everything to me? You’re my most prized possession” He whispered watching as she tossed the vase lightly in the air and caught it her lips pressed into a pout.

“I just want to take care of you and put you on a pedestal.” His voice echoed through the room. (Y/N) turned the vase over in her hands gesturing to it. “Like this? A piece of glass?” She but her lip setting it back on the tall column of white marble. “Why do all these things mean so much to you? They just sit there...looking pretty.” Shawn took a step forward only to be met with a step backwards. “They’re irreplaceable.” He whispered trying to make eye contact.

(Y/N) looked around each sculpture before she looked Shawn in the eye. “That’s all I have felt like lately Shawn. A hollow piece of glass, just being here to look pretty on your arm.” She whispered and shook her head. “I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me Shawn. Showing me a life of luxury and showering me in gifts.” She sighed looking down at the ring on her finger, slowly slipping it off. “Baby no!” Shawn cried out as she set it on the edge of the pedestal. “I love you Shawn. I really do. But in loving you..I stopped loving myself, I became someone completely different and I need to find myself again to be happy.” Shawn’s bottle lip quivered as he tried to hold back a sob.

Stepping towards her, Shawn sighed in relief when she didn’t step back. Cupping her face Shawn stroked her cheeks with his thumbs nodding. “If that’s what you need.” He whispered pressing his forehead to hers keeping eye contact. “But you listen to me.” He gulped back the lump in his throat, tears stinging his eyes. “You go out there, you find yourself. And then you bring your ass right back here to me because I love you baby. You’re it for me and I’m so sorry I didn’t realise how unhappy you were.” (Y/N) shut her eyes as tears drilled down her cheeks. Grabbing Shawn’s wrists in her hands she pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you too.”

She gently pried Shawn’s hands from her face, walking past him to the door that lead to the garage.

A familiar shape sat in the far corner tucked under a black cover, giving it a tug she smiled tracing her fingers over the motorbike she hasn’t drove in over two years because one of Shawn’s partners had said it was unlady like, wanting nothing more to impress the people in Shawn’s life (Y/N) tucked it away in the shadows along with a piece of her heart.

The engine revved to life as she turned the key, the familiar hum of the exhaust making that piece of her heart start to beat again.

Pressing a button on the wall the garage doors open as she used her phone to open the gates. Sitting on the bike she placed her helmet on pulling the small bag she had packed over her shoulders, driving slowly out onto the driveway, seeing Shawn standing at the window with a glass of bourbon in one hand, the other pressed to the window as he leaned on it. Watching her go. With one final rev, (Y/N) flew out the gates, leaving everything behind.

-

Shawn stood in silence. His hand still pressed against the glass long after she was gone. Downing the rest of his glass he shuffled over to the pedestal she had set the ring on. He pinched it carefully between his fingers, staring at it feeling more tears brew in his eyes.

Frustration and Anger quickly followed the sadness. Shawn started at the sculptures in the room. Feeling angry that he was too concerned about proving that he could provide material thing for (Y/N) to realise he wasn’t there for her emotionally.

A roar ripped from his throat as he threw the glass at one of the sculptures, knocking it off its perch onto the ground watching it shatter. Puffs of air left his nose as he eyes the rest of them; his eyes catching a sighed golf club hung on the wall, from who? He couldn’t even remember.

In a rage he ripped it off the wall. Swinging it with a yell each time, sculpture after sculpture shattering.

In the end there was one left. It sat hidden in the middle of them all. It was messy and unprofessional looking. A sob tore from his throat as he dropped to his knees staring at the white painted vase, now in gold paint a heart and four words started at him mockingly.

The vase he has used to ask (Y/N) to marry him was his most prized possession in this room and he never admitted it to her. 

Hope you guys enjoyed!💛🌻

[fitmydaydream]

Lazy Mornings

Prompt: Just some morning fluff about you fancying Shawn while he's asleep.

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: Hey fellas! This has been sitting in my drafts since forever so I finally decided to post it. A little nervous about this one but I really hope you guys like it!

You always admired the mornings because you've always been an early hours kind of person. Seeing the sky fill with light filled you with new hope to start the day afresh. Lazy mornings were something which were never on your list but being with Shawn made you feel like you had to prioritize them over the early ones. And why wouldn't you? You would kill to have those few extra minutes of closeness with Shawn which you've always craved for being more frequent because he was on tour for almost seven months of the year. His tour has finally ended and he'd come back home. The way his face beamed of joy when he saw you at the airport and engulfed your body in an almost suffocating embrace the other night was something you couldn't get off your mind.

The alarm clock hits the time and the sound fills up the quiet room amongst the light snores from your man, which were the only audible thing in the room and you loved waking upto that. 

Groaning, you shut the alarm off. Mentally cursing yourself over forgetting it to turn off the last night because when Shawn's home, you prefer not to get woken up by anything else other than Shawn's immaculate morning kisses, one of the little things about him towards which you've developed your love for. Shawn wasn't among one of the cheesiest boyfriends you would categorize him into. He wouldn't bring breakfast for you to bed because he said it would be a total displeasure spending his time cooking rather than investing that time with you in bed, smothering you with kisses and holding you close. But he was one of those kinds who would rather have a takeaway and drive you to the beach in the early hours of the morning because watching sunsets with a picnic basket were too mainstream. That was who your Shawn was. Being the sweet spice in your life.

But today you'd decided against waking him up because he needed rest after finally coming back home after a long stretch of work. 

Pulling the covers off from you, you walk towards the window to pull the blinds off, hissing at the sudden cold hitting your bare legs. Sunlight flooded in once you tucked the blinds away and climbed back to your shuffled bed. A thin ray of sunlight hitting your boyfriend's face as you rested the weight of your body on one arm to take in the beautiful sight. You were so invested in him that it didn't even came into your realisation the moment your free hand was gently tracing his eyebrow. The sunlight spilling on his face, painting his face in a new shade of golden. The lashes forming a shadow beneath, adding to their lushness. The pad of your thumb now moving across the bridge of his nose all the way through the eyelids. Your index finger tracing the depth of his cheekbones bringing a frown upon your face as the sudden increase in their deepness. Meanwhile, a tiny cold wave of air brushed past your arm, making you retreat your hands from Shawn's face and covering your body with the sheets.

The sudden loss of contact might have been noticed by Shawn in his subconscious sleep because the moment you pulled your hand away from him to tug up the blanket of yourself, his hand found his way to yours and putting it back to it's place. A smile plastered on your face as you thought of him having his presence of mind while you were adoring his morning beauty.

"Oh did I just wake someone up?" you asked him in a cooing voice followed by light giggles.

"You might have disturbed my beauty sleep love" Shawn stated in his raspy morning voice.

"Well then I guess I'll have to keep my hands to myself. I sure as hell don't want my boy to sacrifice something which could be a compromise to his beauty right?" you joked in a light tone, dramatically pulling your hands away from him and trying to get out of the bed.

Shawn was quick to respond. To your surprise he wasn't as lost in his sleep as you thought he would be seeing his past sleep schedule. His arms were quick to wrap around your waist and withdraw you back to where you were before. His fingers danced around your tickle spots, as he started to place himself above you. 

"Shawn! S-Stop. I am n-not escaping any-ymore!" you muttered in between your laughs, holding onto his arms in an attempt to stop him. 

"How can I trust you my lady? Huh?" His hands now on both of your sides as he hovered above you.

Your arms found its way behind his bare back, holding onto him, pulling him down in an effort to close the distance as much as possible. Shawn dipped his head, placing his lips at the corner of your lips while a smile played at his. He started placing chaste kissed along your jaw, your hands tugging at his messy curls. 

"Just what I missed" you hummed against his skin. You'd missed his gentle touch, how he would play around with his lips all over your face, kissing each and every spot. 

His lips now connecting to yours, moving in a rhythm. Your hands travelled to the nape of his neck, blandly scratching the area which earned a moan from him. His teeth drew at your bottom lips, mildly pulling at them.

"God Y/N baby I missed you so much. I can't wait to do this all day for a while now." He finished as he pecked your lips.

"I didn't know I can be that irresistible sometimes which is a good thing" you beamed at him. 

"I wasn't finished yet. So I was saying I can't wait to do this all day just so you can play with my hair and put me back to sleep because you messed up my sleep this very morning. No offence meant." he mumbled nestling his head into the crook of your neck. 

"All offence taken." You stated acting like you were hurt, placing a hand over your chest.

"I think I can take care of that." He said as he raised his arm to take something from the side table. You couldn't figure out what it was until it was in his hands. 

Shawn was holding a Polaroid camera in his hands. He sat up and focused on you. You were completely startled at to what he was doing. As an instinct, you had your arms cover up your face.

"Shawn Peter Raul Mendes you better put that camera down. I look like a utter mess and I'm not to be messed with" you warned him jokingly, because you knew when he took your pictures at random moments. According to some plausible theory of his that he feeded in your mind, these pictures made him feel better at anxious times as he was reminded of everything that he shared with you. The closeness he craved to have, the love and the intimacy which he had with you to look forward to at the end of the day, got him through the tougher days. The nights he would come to you, being quieter than usual due to a stressful day at the studio, you would gently lay down with him without putting up any question. His head on your stomach and your hands in his hair, gently scraping his scalp making him doz off to sleep.

"Baby please. You know how much I love taking photos of you." Shawn begged you with his one eye popping from beside the camera and even though you could see his mouth, you were sure it'd turn into a pout. Five seconds and that face was all what took him to convince you.

You removed your hands from your face giggling at his innocence and at yourself over how stupidly you were head over heels in love with him. This was the type of connection and intimacy you've longed since long. 

After snapping a few shots, Shawn pulled you onto his lap, hands on your lower back while placing a sweet and lingering kiss onto your forehead.

"Look at you being all smiley today" he whispered against your skin.

"Yes because I was thinking of you the whole time" you replied, a visible grin spreading across your lips.

Feedback is forever appreciated. Let me know if you guys enjoyed this one! Thank you for reading <3 MASTERLIST 💕

[somekidwithpersonality]

Okay, I’ve been theorizing...

I haven’t played the game yet, so this may be rough around the edges. Shawn Flynn worked for a toy manufacturing facility. He would be one of the people with knowledge on tools and sewing and such. And on the subject of the Tools. He had his tool belt stolen, according to the 2nd audio log in The Wolf Trials from Boris and the Dark Survival.  He also really angered Joey Drew by painting the Bendy Dolls with a “crooked smile” saying that if Drew truly wanted to be helpful, he’d tell Shawn what to do with all of the Alice Angel dolls as they aren’t selling (and to my knowledge aren’t even shown IN the game) and he’d probably have to “melt it all down to be rid of it all.”  Apparently Drew was overly angry... maybe more than we thought.

EVEN ON THE SCREENSHOT THE DOLLS AREN’T THERE!

Which creatures have multiples upon multiples, but only a small bit of them don’t melt?

“Blah blah blah” - The only words spoken by Piper

[tiny-smallest]

day nineteen - entertainment

Rating: G Characters: Shawn Flynn Warnings: none Description: The toy factory was once one of the most fun places in the entire studio. But not anymore.

Also on AO3!

---

Being the overseer of the miniature toy factory within the studio building was... interesting, once upon a time.

Shawn liked toys. It was why he took this job. He liked toys and he liked making them. When he was handed the design for the very first Bendy doll, he grinned, because it was cute and he knew it was going to make a lot of kids happy. Hell, it was going to make a lot of adults happy, too.

He loved walking around the factory, watching the machines do their thing. It wasn't a very big place, for a factory, but it was nice and it was his. His little domain. A tiny kingdom.

Okay, it was a lot less fancy than you'd imagine a kingdom to look, but still. It was cool. People whose departments had nothing to do with the toy department would swing by to say hello to their friends who worked there and, if they were so inclined, buy a toy right off the conveyor belt.

He sold one to Wally once, a tiny Boris that squeaked when you hugged it, and the way Wally's face lit up made Shawn's heart start thumping.

Shawn saw Wally frequently after that. Big sunbeam smiles and little mischievous crooked ones and high fives and his head spinning, spinning, spinning.

He got invited to their games of pool because he knew Wally, and from there he made so many more friends.

All good things come to an end. Every functioning adult knows this.

But Shawn didn't anticipate the end being so... long. Drawn out. Sad.

It started with a few people quitting. Then more. A machine or two stopped working. Suddenly he had to paint the smiles on the plastic dolls by hand.

It was boring work. Dull. So agonizingly dull it was almost painful.

Shawn painted a few of the smiles on crooked, like the smile he never saw from Wally anymore, and got yelled at by Joey for it.

Well, if you don't like it, then help me! Bring this place back to life!

Before we all go crazy.

[rainbowshawn]

Never Be Alone

Request: “heyy it would be great if you did longing 1 and fluff 16 🥰”

Prompts: “You’ve always got me” + “I can’t imagine this world without you”

Summary: Helping Shawn through an anxiety attack.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, angst

Word Count: 2.6k

_____________________________

Something was off and you could feel it in the deepest pit of your gut. A nagging feeling in the back of your head kept you from fully divulging in socializing at the party you had for some reason agreed to. You had every intention to dive in and have fun, but a tinge in your chest kept you from doing so.

There was something wrong; something with Shawn. He had been distant the past three or four days, you’ve lost count. His loving and warm personality was absent, replaced with a cold distance. He was out of sorts and despite your attempts to weed it out of him, you couldn’t quite crack him. You were just met with the cold shoulder and a lousy excuse.

Your attention span was completely ruined by your worry. You had decided it would be best to excuse yourself from the plans for the night. Guilt filled your veins but it wasn’t enough to cover the copious amounts of worry coursing through you. Something was wrong and you needed to see him. 

You had raced home, winding through the night streets with wild thoughts bubbling up in your mind. Once you popped into the door, you made your way through the quiet house.

“Shawn?” you called out, hearing the echo bounce off the hollow entryway walls.

Your ears weren’t met with a response, so you trudged around the first floor, your heels clicking against the hardwood floor. Each room showed no signs of the boy, undisturbed since you left. You kicked your stilettos off and clambered up the stairs.

“Shaaaawn,” you sang, figuring he was in the bedroom. You press your palms against the large white door, pushing it open to reveal the dimly lit room. Your eyes settle on his large figure curled up on his side in bed and a smile almost forms on your face before it’s disrupted by a sniffling sound. Your eyebrows raise, your concern growing tenfold, “Honey? Are you okay?”

Your words shoot through him, only making him whimper and let out a choked breath. Your heart is suddenly pounding as you quickly make your way over to the bed. Crawling up next to his body, your hand meets his arm and you hover over him, “Shawny, what’s going on?”

“I need my girl,” his voice breaks.  

His hands are grabbing at his chest as sobs begin to shake through him. His breathing is labored and you know exactly what’s happening to him. Shawn’s anxiety was unfortunately nothing new and you had seen him like this before. The pain of seeing him this way never got easier.

“I-I can’t breathe,” he gasps, still sobbing. His face is contorted in pain, reddened and wet from his seemingly never-ending tears.

“Shawny, can you sit up for me? Come here, love.” You say softly, trying not to demand too much from him in his fragile state. He remains in his spot for a moment before he finally sits up, still not quite facing you.

“Shh, c’mere,” you coo, reaching your arms out to him.

Shawn falls into your embrace, his head slotting into the crook of your neck. His wet cheek rests on your shoulder as his forehead rests on your neck. You feel his disrupted breaths fan across your chest as he wraps his arms tightly around you, almost as if he was searching for something to hold him down and ground him.

You press a kiss to his curly hair and move to pepper a few down his warm forehead. Rubbing a hand down his back, you shush him gently, hoping the sound would bring him some comfort. His cries felt infinite and you felt entirely helpless. You knew he just needed comfort right now and your questions would be answered in a while.

“Can you breathe with me, sweetheart? You’re hyperventilating,”

His sobs are still rolling out of his chest but he nods his head, still buried in your neck. You take a deep breath in, exaggerating the movements a bit so he can follow your lead. Your body relaxes on the exhale, still holding him tightly. You feel him trying to do the same; little hiccups interrupting a smooth breath in for him.

You keep rubbing his back as you repeat the motions, breathing in time with each other. He’s whimpering and hiccuping into your skin but he’s making an effort to calm down. You hold him close until, slowly, his breaths start to become less erratic. You wait until you feel he may be ready to talk before you start to question him.

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” you whisper to him, shifting a bit to take his face into your palms. He whimpers as his face is revealed to you; feeling embarrassed at his outburst. Shawn hated you seeing him like this. He was so dead set on being strong for you- hell everyone around him for that matter, that he despised these moments of weakness. His soft whimper is accompanied by a soft furrow of his brows and a pouty lip. He tries to nuzzle into your hand, hoping for some sort of a shield from the extremity.

You smile sympathetically at the distressed boy, wanting so badly to grab him up and kiss his pain away. But unfortunately, you know that won’t make him feel better. He needed to talk.

“I-I d-don’t want yo-ou to forget me,” he chokes out, tears beginning to fall from his honey eyes again.

Your brows knit together, confused at what he means. He notices your confusion and takes a deep breath before explaining further, “W-when I tour,” he hiccups, “I don’t want you to forget about me.”

It clicks in your head for the most part. You knew he would get anxious right before tour, not wanting to leave his home or the people he loves behind. He had just gotten home from a particularly long tour a few weeks ago. This one had most definitely taken a toll on him physically and mentally and it took all you had to not rip his management team to shreds. The poor boy was overworked and exhausted.

The only thing you weren’t quite grasping was why he would ever think you would forget him.

“Shawny, I could never forget about you,” you assure him, tilting your head with a concerned look painted across your face.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” he mewls, “I’m never home. I’m so so-orry,”

His cries pick back up slightly as he speaks his feelings and your thumbs wipe his hot tears off of his pretty face. His eyes flutter shut and his lashes brush against your fingertips, painting wet streaks across them.

“Baby, you know I understand,” you reason, “You’re doing what you love. I would never hold that against you,”

“N-no, you don’t get it,” he starts, “I miss everything. Your life can continue without me and I just feel like you’re gonna forget me. Everyone for that matter. I know it’s crazy but I feel like I’m losing it”

He buries his face back into your neck and pulls you into his lap. Your weight brings him some sense of comfort and he breathes you in.

“It sounds so nice to travel the world and I love it- I really do, but god, it gets so old. I just want to be with you.”

“Sweetheart I can always come visit you,”

“I know but that’s not it. I wish I could be there for you more. And I wish I could be there for Aaliyah and m-my friends, but I cant be.”

His grip around you tightens and he moves his face to rest his chin on your shoulder. Your hand moves to run through his messy hair as he talks, knowing it’s the most comforting thing to him.

“Everyone has their whole lives; they have friends at their disposal, things they can do, and I’m just stuck.”

“mhm,” you hum, softly urging him to continue as you rock him gently.

“Sure I have my crew but other than that I feel like there’s just nothing. And everyone at home has a million other things to distract them and what if I get forgotten?”

He whimpers the last few words, almost ashamed to say it. Your heart breaks more with every sentence that flies out of his anxious mouth and you wish you could just silence his aching mind for him.

“I’m gone for so long, I don’t want everyone to forget about me.”

You grab his face in your hands again, peppering kisses to his forehead and down his damp cheeks. His sniffles continue as you search for the right words to say. Your mind is going a mile a minute as you try to comfort him.

“Nobody is gonna forget you, Shawn. You may not be able to be there physically but you’re always there. You always try your best and it doesn’t go unnoticed.”

He grumbles and rolls his eyes. His mind is doing everything to convince him that your words are untrue. He shakes his head and pulls away from your embrace, hiding his face in his palms.

“I-I’m not enough.”

You feel your heart hollow out at his confession. The pit in your stomach drops and your eyes start to fill with tears.

“Don’t say that,” you plead, “You are more than enough,”

You grab him up in your arms, holding him as tight as you could. He sighs, his body exhausted from the anxiety attack.

“I just feel so alone.”

“I know honey, but you aren’t. You’ve always got me.”

He sniffles and his gaze falls into his lap, avoiding your eyes. He hears you. You know he does. But he doesn’t necessarily believe those words.

“Shawny, how many times have I called you at ridiculous hours of the night crying over my bad day? How many times have I called you just to hear the sound of your voice?” you start, hoping you could break through his stubborn wall, “How many times have I called you just to fall asleep with you on the other end? You’re my person. My love, my light. You’re my go-to. My heart and my soul. You are everything. I could never forget you because I couldn’t imagine this world without you in it.”

His amber eyes have finally met yours, still brimming with tears. The hazel color was accentuated by the angry red color rimming them. His brows softened and his lip pouted out ever so slightly. A sigh leaves his tense body and you wipe the stray tear that has fallen to the tip of his nose.

“I would be lost without you, Shawn.”

“I love you,” he sniffles, “so much.”

“I know honey, I love you too. More than you know.”

You press a kiss against his swollen lips, tasting the salty tears that blanketed them. He softens even more at your affection, his body leaning into yours. Somehow a kiss from you heals the aches that settled deep in his bones and stops the worry in his mind. He feels healed. He feels at home.

“Your friends feel the same way too. Nobody will ever forget about you, bubba,” you let out a breathy chuckle, “Hell, all we do is wait around for you to get your ass home.”

You pinch his cheeks as he finally smiles softly, laughing at your words. His cheeks warm up and he hums, rolling his eyes. You press a few more kisses to his smiling lips and whisper how much you love him.

The two of you sit there for a moment, breathing each other in. His breath has finally evened out again and his heart is full of gratitude for you. Whenever his world is spinning, you somehow put it back on its axis. When he’s lost, you bring him home. You are his home.

“How about we lay down? You’re probably so tired, bubby.”

Shawn nods his head, shifting to lie back down. He looks like a puppy as he gets comfortable, reaching out for you to lay with him.

“One second, babe,” you say, standing up to grab his favorite candle.

You flick the lighter and bring it to the three wicks, setting it down on the bedside table. He smiles at your gesture and reaches back out to you. The warm scent fills your senses as you crawl back into the bed next to him.

He rolls onto his side, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your chest.

“Can you hold me?” he asks, softly.

“Of course, honey.”

Your fingers threaded through his unruly hair, rubbing his scalp gently. You know how much it soothes him and you just want him to be comfortable. The TV was now softly playing in the background and his droopy eyes were watching the scene it displayed. You focused on playing with his hair, thinking over what just happened.

You laid there for a while, thinking he must’ve fallen asleep until he spoke,

“Why were you home? I thought you were with your friends?”

“I was,” you say, pressing a kiss to his hair, “but I just had a feeling that something was wrong. It was nagging at me all night and I just had to come home.”

Shawn’s heart flutters. He swears you two have a sixth sense for each other. There were so many cases of the two of you sensing the other's pain. Even little things, like saying the same thing at the same time, or one of you talking about something the other had just been thinking about. It used to freak you out, but you’ve come to love it. Shawn always made jokes when the odd instances happened, insisting that the two of you were ‘magic’

“You always know,” he murmurs, lifting his head to hover over you, “God, I love you.”

“What can I say? I’m magic,” you giggle, “Mmm, I love you too”

He kisses your lips slowly, radiating passion. Your lips move in sync, dancing together. His hands rub your waist as he deepens the kiss. He fills all your senses, making your head spin as your focus is on him, him, him.

His lips stay on yours for a while, trying to make up for the lost time as a result of his distance for the past few days. He’s got so much love he doesn’t know what to do with it all. The show playing on the TV is long forgotten by the time his loving kisses become lazier.

He slows down a bit and your hands play with his hair as you pull away.

“Why don’t you get some sleep, Shawny?”

He nods sleepily, his eyes suddenly too heavy to open. His head falls back into the crook of your neck and you feel his breath against your skin. His arm is wrapped tightly around you and your hand trails up and down it while the other plays with his hair. Soon he’s snoring lightly into your neck, and you smile down at him.

Things aren’t always easy for him. You know that. Even though he tries so hard to convince everyone otherwise. He has a bad habit of bottling things up but at least he has you. His love and his light. His go-to. His heart and his soul.

He always has you to remind him that he’ll never be alone.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Ok so, NO OFFENSE but, Seamus looks like a Bendy doodle that one of the animators did being drunk(?

Or it's just me aH-

Seamus was a spiteful joke on Shawn's part. A Bendy doll head without the grin sewn onto a Boris doll body. A way to get back at Joey for hassling him about the crooked smiles on some of the official dolls.

When Sammy was looking for a good gift for his sister, he specifically asked if there were any Bendy dolls that hadn't had their smiles painted on yet (because he couldn't stand the devilish grin and didn't want to have to see it at home as well). Shawn gave him the little frankenstein-creation knowing no one would appreciate it more than a child.

And he was right, Abby loved it and even named the little fella after both Sammy and Shawn. She built up his personality and he was honestly her imaginary friend for the rest of her childhood. She still keeps the little doll on her as a good luck charm.

[adobe-outdesign]

The Tool Belt incident taught Shawn to always look out and double check in case anything goes wrong... which is exactly why he painted some of those Bendy dolls with a crooked smile. Because he double checks, he can easily tell if Norman's around... which will never be the case because Norman died before Shawn and the rest of Heavenly Toys gang showed up according to DCtL. Fuck man.

me trying to write BATIM fanfiction only to realize none of these characters should be interacting with each other according to DCTL

[mythicalitycosplay]

“I don’t be seein’ what the big deal is. So what if I went and painted some of those Bendy dolls with a crooked smile?”

Character: Shawn Flynn, Bendy and the Ink Machine.

Created by TheMeatly. Shawn was voiced by @therealjacksepticeye, and I based my character design on him too!

A huge thank you to my amazing photographer, JeffPardoen on Instagram! I’ve never had an ‘official’ photoshoot before, and seeing these pictures has really helped me to regain some of the confidence I’ve lost recently. Thank you, Jeff!

(Repost; my tags screwed up!)

[malaboos-bodacious-blog]

"So what if I painted a couple of those Bendy Dolls with a crooked smile?"

Shawn Flynn

Pt. 1/7 of my Tired Ego Series

@therealjacksepticeye

[fanf1cshawn]

señorita

plot: y/n goes to the shoot and gets a bit jealous... but also hot and bothered. 

————————————————

warnings: sexual connotations ———————————————— as you were peacefully getting ready for a meeting inside the bathroom, your tall brunette of a boyfriend suddenly walks into the room.

"hey bub?" shawn asks, snaking his arms around your waist. he nuzzles his his face in the crook of your neck, making you giggle. you place your hands on top of his, as you rest the back of your head on his chest.

"yes, love? what's up?" he turns you around and places you on top of the counter. you gasp, his strength never failing to shock you. a playful smile was painted on his face and you knew something up.

"sooooo..." he says, building up tension. "andrew sent me a text today saying that the shooting for my new video will start on thursday."

"that's great, love! good for you." you smiled back, cupping his cheek. he leaned into your hand and sighed. what is this all about?

"andddd i kinda want you to come with me...?" he chuckled lowly, looking down at the floor. you lifted his chin up and tilted your head.

"why bub, what's wrong? sure i'll come with you!" you laughed, trying to create a comfortable atmosphere in the air.

"no babe i get that you'd come with me, i kinda already knew that but uh, it's just that..." he pauses.

"ok?" you knitted your eyebrows together, waiting for a response. you were confused to why he was acting so nervous, since he usually doesn't get this anxious when doing video shoots.

"i'll be doing the shoot with camila, if that's alright with you." he finally admits with an awkward cough, looking at you with his hazel eyes full of sincerity.

"of course that's fine with me, i've known camila for quite a long time now... we're good friends, i guess." you said, the last part barely even a whisper. it was no lie that you felt kinda weird whenever she was around with shawn, knowing that they were already good friends, best friends even before you and shawn became a thing. she might know more about shawn than you do, but - whatever. you let the thought slip your mind, shaking your head.

"what song is this by the way? is she gonna act or is she a part of the song as well?" you asked in a curious tone, trying to stir away from the subject.

"oh it's a collab, yeah. the one that we've been working on for a few months now." he answers, putting the piece of your hair that just fell right behind your ear.

"oh the one that you talked about in la? when you met up, yeah?"

"yep, that's right." he smiles, now putting you down the counter.

"when i get home, can i listen to the song? only if it's ok with you, i get it of you don't wa-"

"yes you can my love, yes you can." ———————————————— it was now thursday morning, the start of the music video shoot. the first scenes were shot inside a small diner, and it wasn't too bad. they shot some of the promo photos and a few scenes, and you couldn't deny how good your boyfriend looked in all of them. the director was someone who hasn't shot any of shawn's previous videos before, meaning the video would be quite different from the usual. although different isn't always bad, it also isn't always good.

to be fair, the song itself was different from anything that shawn has ever released if you were to be honest. as soon as you got home from your meeting the same day he told you about the shoot, you listened to the song and the first thought that came into your mind was 'oh boy, he's going to break the internet again.'

the lyrics, the beat, the vibe, everything was different. but the lyrics, oh the lyrics, were for sure going to be one of the most shocking that his fans will ever hear, or you have ever heard. it felt too real, but you didn't think of it too much. if shawn says they've never been through anything before, they haven't, and that's all that matters. it's not that you were mad if they did, but as long as he's telling the truth.

it was the afternoon and the next location was a motel. you were quite surprised, but you proceeded to come with the team. it's not like you had any choice to leave anyways. you were at the back of the van seated next to shawn, camila on his other side.

you kept quiet the whole ride, with shawn checking up on you every now and then, his hand squeezing your thigh as his sign. you kept nodding, looking out the road. as the two musicians discussed their guesses on how their fans would react (although you were sure everyone would have their jaws on the floor as they listened), you couldn't stop thinking about what the motel scenes would be like. you sighed and leaned back on your seat, not knowing what was about to come. ———————————————— fuck, was your first thought after seeing your boyfriend change into a white tank top, arms all out for the hundreds, no, millions of girls to see. it was distracting you, oh was it distracting you, but you tried your best to contain feelings and thoughts that you shouldn't have while your boyfriend was having his music video shoot.

the room was set up to be a bit messy, clothes all over the floor and sheets all over the bed, so it was clear to you what scene they would be doing without the two of them even starting to act yet.

it was a scene that you've witnessed and been a part inside his toronto apartment, childhood bedroom, heck, almost every single hotel that you've stayed at on tour even. a scene that was for the two of you only, only for you to see. but it wasn't you who was in the video, was it?

camila came out in a white tank top, a cardigan over it, the other sleeve off of her shoulder. she sat against the closet in the room as shawn was sitting on the bed, right across her.

the first shot was about to start and suddenly, you started getting nervous. your heart was beating out of your chest for some reason. a part of you wanted to get out of the room and wait inside the van but you were glued onto your seat, unable to move.

as the director talked to the both of them before he started rolling, you braced yourself and in a matter of seconds, the track was playing. as camila lip synced to the track, she started walking over to shawn, and all of a sudden, shawn started taking his top off. you gulped, eyes getting dark at the sight. heat rushed over your body as he stood up, eyes looking down at camila, whose arms were wrapped around his neck.

as they stared at each other for a brief moment, shawn spins her around and lays her down on the bed, hovering over her. i wish he was the one on top of me right now. you took a deep breath as they slowly leaned into each other's face, lips just centimeters apart.

"cut!" the director shouts, a smile on his face. shawn got off camila quickly, as she slightly pushed him away. they laughed, muttering out 'that was disgusting!' or 'oh my god, how did we do that?!".

"ok guys, come watch it over here!" the director calls them over to the viewfinder and shawn pulled you with him to watch it. his sweaty arms wrapped around your body, as he placed a kiss on your cheek.

"so how was it? was it good, bub?" he asks cheerfully, not noticing how turned on you were. you coughed awkwardly and chuckled, giving him a  pat on the back.

"it was good, hot, to be precise." you said, sending him a small smile. he laughed and the crew gathered around the small screen, watching what was just filmed.

"ok... so let's do the scene where shawn puts camila on the bed again! it looked kinda awkward to me." the director instructs, as they agreed and got back to their places, shawn slipping his top back on. you walked back to your seat to go through the torture you just went through again, your boyfriend as clueless as ever. ———————————————— they did the same scene again for a few times, perfecting minor mistakes. shawn being the perfectionist that he is, he wanted everything to be in place, to be right. but having his girlfriend basically beg for him silently without him knowing, god was it so wrong. all you wanted was his touch everywhere, and boy did you want it now. but you couldn't have him for yourself now, you had to wait. and waiting was painful.

every minute that passed felt like hours, and you cra-

"cut! that's it!" the director shouts, snapping you out of your thoughts. everyone sighs in relief and the crew starts fixing the equipment. you hand over a towel to shawn  and he wipes his sweat off with it. andrew gives him a bottle of water and he drinks all of it instantly. he sits next to the director, watching the piece of film that was chosen for the video. he nodded, pleased by the product. he slipped on a shirt that tiff brought him and he walked over to you, leaning against you. he took a deep breath as you feel him smile against the crook of your neck.

"you look tired." you whispered, so only he could hear. he chuckled lowly and looked at you.

"i kinda am, but there's one last thing left to film. gotta push through it you know?" he smiles and you smile back, not knowing what to say.

"how about you, are you tired? sorry if i haven't been talking to you all day, and i was the one who dragged you all the way here." he apologizes sincerely.

"no, it's ok bub. i understand, everything's good." you replied, but not in your usual tone. and with that, shawn knew what was up. a lightbulb in his brain suddenly lit up and he had a plan. no wonder she's been quiet all day, the brunette finally realizes.

the team told everyone that you'd be leaving for the next location and shawn smirked to himself.

the last scene awaits. ———————————————— you arrived at the last place and shawn and camila have already changed. they practiced a the choreo in the dressing room as they finished changing, and you didn't watch it. you wanted to be surprised.

the last camera was set up and they get into their positions. take after take, and they were almost there. something was missing, and no one knew what it was. it was getting pretty late, but they had to get the perfect shot, so you just waited.

you felt a pair of eyes on you and to your surprise, it was shawn. he smirked and you furrow your brows, not sure of what he meant. the setting of the room made him look more attractive than he already was, the red lighting complementing him perfectly. he smiled again and paid attention to the director.

"ok guys, this is our last shoot! i want the two of you to give it your all. and shawn, don't be afraid to get too touchy! get in the act! let's do it!" the director screams and the music starts playing.

they start the choreography and camila rests her back on his body, as shawn lightly grazed his fingers over her sides. he felt your eyes watch his every move and he continued to do what he did, knowing what effect it had on you. to him, your gaze felt like fire on his skin, and now, he craved for you too.

he carries her and pushes her up against the wall, the two of them being extremely close. you watched very closely, their lips almost grazing over each other's. and just right before their lips touched, the director shouts 'cut'. while everyone was applauding each other for their hard work, you sighed in relief and went over to shawn. you planted a kiss right on his jaw and he could've sworn he would've melted then and there. it was now a game of turning each other on, and oh did shawn know how much you were losing.

"congrats, love. it's going to be a hit." you send him a small smile, earning a smile back. he put his hand on your waist and whispered into your ear.

"thanks, babe. can't wait 'til we get back home." ———————————————— you were silent and cold all the way back to the apartment. but shawn? oh was he excited. he let his hand brush over your thighs every now and then, teasing you. you would groan but not too loudly, only for him to hear. he loved it, every single bit of it.

you finally reach the apartment and you sprinted to the room, shawn following behind you. as soon as you got on the floor of the apartment, you fumbled with the keys because of how frustrated you were, and shawn just laughed at you. you swinged the door right open and shawn just slammed it shut.

"what's wrong with you?" he asks calmly, taking off his ysl boots at the door, eyeing you carefully as he waits for your response.

"nothing's wrong with me." you lied. you kicked off your shoes and rushed into the bedroom.

"oh really?" he asks again, following you to the bedroom. he leans against the doorframe, watching you comb the tangles in your hair.

"yes, shawn. i'm alright." you lied again. he started walking towards you and you could see his body frame behind you in the mirror, making you put down the comb on your vanity. you stood up and turned around, looking up at him. dark eyes were looking back at yours and somehow he picked you up and carried you all the way to the bed. a soft thud was made when you landed on the bed, and before you was the shawn who only you saw. the shawn that no one else knows about.

he slipped of his shirt and hovered right above you, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck. you cup his face in your hands, finally kissing him the way you wanted to since this morning.

"you were jealous, weren't you?" he asks, looking at you.

"i got a bit jealous, sure i'll admit that, but it's not that that's been bothering me all day you know?" you sighed, confessing your thoughts.

"then what is it?"

"it's just... i didn't know you'd be basically fuck camila out of that video, i wish you just told me that beforehand. and also, i always thought that... that side of you would be kept between us, you and me."

he felt his heart sink at your words and he kissed you ever so sincerely.

"i'm so sorry babe... i wish i told you sooner."

"it's ok babe, it's ok." you run your fingers through his curls and smiles.

"how about..." he whispers in your ear in a tone that sends shivers down your spine.

"hmm?"

"i make it up to you, my señorita?"

[shawnsassymendes]

Behind the Scenes pt.2

synopsis: same as yesterday folks

warning: if you hate camila, dont read this

wc: 2k

{Materlist in Bio}

____________________

You were sitting on the floor next to Andrew on set, slumped against some counter at the diner you were filming at.

Shawn and Camila were sitting at one of the booths, waiting for instructions as Shawn played with Camila’s hands. Camila put her hands up and let them roam Shawn’s face, constantly poking an eye or sticking her finger in his nose. Camila giggled whenever Shawn would push her hands away because she knew she was going to keep doing it anyways.

You put your head against Andrew’s shoulder, growing tired of waiting for something to do. “You doing ok, kid?” Andrew brought up a hand to brush away the hair sticking to your forehead from the heat.

You were always like this, very touchy feely. Whenever you got used to someone it was always linking pinkies, napping on shoulders, cuddling, hair playing, you name it. Obviously with the other person’s consent, but no one on Shawn’s team seemed to mind.

“Hmm, I’m good. Might turn into a puddle, though.” The big industrial type fans were pointed at Shawn and Camila and all the high tech equipment. The diner they chose seemed to be behind in the air conditioning department, which meant sweltering heat for the rest of you.

Andrew chuckled and offered to get you some water, but you refused. You got up and walked towards the booth your boyfriend was sitting in. They were still figuring out lighting and the like, so you had time to enjoy a little bit of the cool breeze the studded stars were offered.

“Hey, baby.” Shawn grinned when he noticed you walking over.

One of his hands let go of Camila’s and reached for you, the other still tangled in the girl’s fingers. “Hello, my love. You bored yet.” You took a seat in front of Shawn and held his hand across the table. You slipped off your shoes and propped your feet up in Camila’s lap.

Shawn looked at you with that look. You know the look. The look that made you feel like you could do anything and everything. Like you were the only thing that boy needed for the rest of his life. The look that sent fireworks through your veins because you knew. You just knew he was going to say something that would bring all the blood rushing to your head within seconds.

“Always bored when I’m not with you, pretty girl.”

There it was. All the air in your lungs got knocked out of you and you felt your face heat up like a thousand suns. Such simple words had you so discombobulated.

Camila pouted, looking up at Shawn from her place on his chest. “You never call me pretty girl.” You all knew she was simply joking, teasing Shawn for being so love struck.

“Cause you aren’t a pretty girl.” Shawn smirked, flicking Camila against her forehead with the hand that was previously holding hers.

“Hey!” You and Camila both said in unison, she with a little more edge. You chuckled and leaned back in your seat. “Don’t be rude to Mila, baby. You still owe her after you dropped her at the studio.”

“Excuse you, but me eating 300 mints today is enough to pay my debt. I could have eaten a tuna sandwich for breakfast. Bet you would have loved that, eh Mila?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Camila glared at him, rising from her place in his lap.

“Mila, if you press it, he definitely would. This is a working diner. You still have some scenes left.” You knew Shawn had taken all these things into consideration when you had entered the set this morning. The boy was incredibly easy to read. At least to you, he was.

Camila’s eyes went wide as she realized how easily Shawn could have her smelling his horrid breath all day. “Fine, I didn’t wanna be called pretty girl anyways.” Shawn giggled in response, loving the control he would have over his co-star for the rest of the day.

____________________

Shawn was sitting on the motorcycle in front of the green screen, Anna trying to powder his face on the side, while you were standing off to the side with Camila’s mother.

“Oh, she loves it when I come.” Shawn burst out his favorite lyric from the song, runs and everything, with a boyish grin on his face. It was his favorite set of lyrics for a reason. The reason being that he’s a twenty year old man child. Anna struggled to powder Shawn’s forehead because his excitement (from the lyrics) caused him to stand up tall enough where she couldn’t reach it.

“Shawn, let the woman do her job.” You called out. Shawn sat back down and let Anna powder his forehead.

When she was done, Shawn looked over at you from his seat on the bike. “Come here, pretty girl.”

That little fucker knew what that nickname did to you. He was definitely using it to his advantage.

It took your brain a millisecond to decide to walk over to Shawn, the nickname clearly doing it’s job. By the time you walked over, the makeup artist had gone off to do something else, giving you and Shawn a mild version of privacy on the crowded set. As soon as you were in arm’s reach, Shawn put his hand on your waist and pulled you into his side.

Shawn was looking up at you with that look. Emphasis on the up because rarely was it like this. You looking down at Shawn, Shawn looking up at you. You liked the tiny bit of height difference even though he was still almost your height sitting down. “I’m so fucked for you.” Shawn mumbled. You felt your face heat up once more from Shawn’s words. Your eyes flitted down to his lips quickly, it wasn’t for long but Shawn noticed. The boy noticed everything about you. He couldn’t help himself.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips almost instinctively. He pulled you down and pressed his lips to yours. “I’m so fucked for you, too.” You giggled against his lips, bumping your nose against his.

“Fucked for each other, it seems.” Shawn smiled, forehead against your own.

“It seems.” You hummed, looking into his beautiful eyes. 

After a few moments of just looking into his eyes and him looking into yours (you would’ve gagged if you were to walk by major pda like this), you looked down at the bike and your eyes gleamed. “Can I get on?”

“You wanna get on the bike?” Shawn asked, leaning away from you. You nodded in response. “Front or back?” Shawn asked but he already knew your answer. He always knew. He was scooting to the back before you said, “Front.”

You loved being held, especially being held by Shawn. You climbed on with Shawn’s help, your front facing his. You placed your hands on his chest only for Shawn to cover them with his enormous hands, completely hiding yours from view. “I’m loving the bad boy Shawn vibes I’m getting from this.” You grinned.

“Oh, yeah? Maybe I should get a motorcycle then. You’d be drooling all over me.” He chuckled, looking down at you through his loose curls.

“True.” You hummed, pushing his curls away from his eyes and running your fingers through them, making Shawn drop his hands into his lap. He placed them on your hips, thumb teasing at your skin beneath your shirt. “But you’d have to wear a helmet. Karen would kill you if you didn’t.”

“Yeah, she would. And Aaliyah would die to go for a ride. You know I can’t say no to her.” You nodded, knowing his little sister had him wrapped around her finger. “Mum would kill me if I did, though. Too much responsibility. Taking her on a ride with me.”

“On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t get a motorcycle. I don’t think helmet hair suits me.” You mumbled.

“I think everything suits you, my love.” Shawn placed a kiss on your head, pulling you closer to his chest.

“You have to say that, you’re in love with me.” You rolled your eyes.

“Exactly, so no one else’s opinion matters but mine.” 

“I guess you’re right, pretty boy.” You felt Shawn’s hands tighten against your skin at the new nickname, the heat from his face easily distinguishable as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck. Oh.

You would definitely be keeping that in mind for future reference. Pretty boy. Who knew?

____________________

Shawn and Camila were goofing off in front of the green screen again. The last scene was being filmed and you would hopefully wrap up with music video tonight. You walked over to your boyfriend with Anna. She was going to fix Camila’s lipstick and Shawn’s concealer.

“y/n, blend out lover boy’s under eyes. I need to do Camila.” You gladly took the brush Anna handed to you and held Shawn’s chin in your hand. 

You began brushing out the edges, trying not to look Shawn in the eyes because you knew he was giving you the look. Ugh, this boy was unbearable. “You should always do my makeup, pretty girl.” 

“Shawn, do not go and just give my job away. I need it.” Anna spoke through the tube of lipstick she had stuck in her mouth. She was holding the wand up to Camila’s face, expertly painting her lips. 

Shawn rolled his eyes. “Ugh, I forgot you existed.”

“Mm, too busy drooling over his pretty girl.” Camila teased, smacking her lips after Anna finished with her. You put the brush in Anna’s bag and gave your friend a look to let up with the teasing.

Shawn smirked and pulled you closer into his chest. “Don’t give her that look, you know she’s right.”

Anna was zipping up her bag when Shawn’s hand came to stop her. “Anna, you didn’t do her highlight. Can I?” 

Anna looked back up at Camila to see that Shawn was right. She took out her little custom palette she had for Camila’s powders. She handed Shawn the palette and her highlight brush. “Be quick, they want to start in a few minutes.”

Shawn nodded as he accepted the items from the makeup artist. He dipped the brush into the highlight shade, tapping it on the side of the plastic compact to remove the excess. He lightly went over Camila’s cheekbones, cupid’s bow, and the tip of her nose. 

Shawn looked over at you and you saw that gleam in his eye, the one that came out when he was excited to show you something. He put the palette in Anna’s bag with the brush and started rummaging around. “Come here, pretty girl.”

“What are you gonna do to me?” You gasped, watching as he pulled out a red tube. You thought it was lipstick, but he opened it to reveal an eyeliner tip. “Is that red liner?”

“Yeah, look it matches your shirt.” He smiled, looking down at your red shirt. 

“You know how to use that, bub?” You looked at the eyeliner warily, almost like it was a weapon. 

Shawn grinned in response. “You’re gonna shit your pants when you see how good I can do this.” 

You looked between Shawn and the eyeliner for a few seconds before relenting and letting him massacre your face. You closed your eyes and felt him come closer, placing the thin brush against your lash line. He slowly pulled back moments later, telling you it was safe to open your eyes. 

Shawn held up a palette with a mirror for you to look at his masterpiece, you were pleasantly surprised. “Consider my pants shitted in. Wow, I didn’t think you had it in you, pretty boy.” Shawn blushed at the compliment and the nickname, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. He placed the liner and the palette back in Anna’s bag before she rushed off, being needed somewhere else on set.

Camila’s eyebrows raised slightly at the new nickname. “Pretty boy, eh?”

“Mm, it’s cute, isn’t it?” You asked, biting your lip at the sight of the blushing boy. “My pretty boy.” Shawn’s red cheeks deepened in color, you laughed at the sight. Shawn whined at you to stop, pulling you into him and placing his face into the crook of your neck again.

Very much a pretty boy.

____________________

thankyou for reading, my loves. a quick little thing for the second part of the bts video. idk where all the inspiration is coming from tbh, but im not complaining lol. send me your favorite line if you wanna. also ugh when i wrote the last 300 words or so i went to copy the whole thing to paste it in a pages docu to see the word count but instead of hitting copy i hit paste and when i hit undo i lost the last 300 words and ughh i got so annoyed i rewrote it so its good but still. update, they weren’t the last 300 words cuz i added some more lol. update, added a bit more again woopsies.