#marble fabricators Toronto

[maxspacestonework]

Discover 7 Benefits of Marble Countertops in Your Toronto Kitchen

Want to make your Toronto kitchen look amazing? Marble countertops also increase your home’s market value and create a culinary sanctuary. Marble is durable in addition to being beautiful, meaning it resists both heat and scratches. Plus, its inherent cooling qualities make it ideal for baking, although marble does require proper care to maintain its timeless appeal. Read this post to discover why marble countertops are popular choices in the kitchens of Canada.

[puccbunni]

“Friends” Pt.3

|Auston Matthews | Maple Leafs |

{ Ruin The Friendship - Demi Lovato }

Soo I decided to make “FRIENDS” into a series! So I kinda split the last chapter in two so this picks up from the same night, which happens to be in mid January.

Also the time line is set during the 2019/20 season because that’s when I started writing it (I know it has taken me forever to decide to make this a series!!!) because of this there are relationships in the series that have since ended (ie Kappy and Paige) that I have chosen to keep for the time being. Also COVID isn’t a thing in this story it just didn’t work with the timeline I have planned out.

If you have any questions about the series ask away, 

If you haven’t read parts 1 or part 2 go check them out cutiepies xoxo

Same old warnings

Swearing

Smut

Enjoy xx

When the Uber pulled up outside of Austons building you couldn’t bring yourself to look at the Uber driver in the eyes as you sheepishly slid from the backseat, you mumbled a quick thank you in his direction. As he pulled away a notification dinged on Austons phone.

“Well there goes my rating.” He laughs as he shows you the one star the driver had given the pair of you. You both start laughing as you walk into the building side by side. You cross your arms against your chest so they weren’t swinging awkwardly by your side and so Auston wouldn’t feel obligated to hold your hand, cause you had decided that that ventured too far outside of the friend zone.

The elevator ride was quiet as an old women had decided to jump in with you, which after your little stunt in the Uber seemed to probably be a good thing as you were pretty sure the two of you had done enough indecent things in public for one night. As you reach Austons floor the doors open and he fishes his keys out of his pockets and unlocks and holds the door open for you.

“Do you want a drink or anything?” Auston asks kicking his shoes off by the door.

“Yeah actually water would be great.” You say removing your jacket and shoes.

You follow Auston into his kitchen and actually take in his condo in for the first time, considering the last time you were here you were a little more preoccupied with getting to the bedroom. The kitchen, living and dining are all open into one large space with most of the furniture facing towards the floor to ceiling windows with a view of the beautiful Toronto city skyline that lights up his condo enough that Auston hasn’t needed to turn on a light yet.

“Great view.” You say as Auston hands you a glass of water, you take it from him placing your bag on the counter of the island in the middle of the kitchen.

You take a long sip from the glass.

“Soo.” You say placing the glass down next to your bag.

“Soo.” Auston repeats leaning against the bench top opposite you.

“Maybe we should set some ground rules, you know so we are on the same page.” You suggest.

“You really gonna be taking the fun out of this aren’t you.” Auston laughs.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes at him. “look we probably don’t need them but at least this way we won’t get confused and we know where we stand, okay?”

“Okay, what rules do you have in mind?” He says pushing of the bench and closing the gap between you resting his hands on your hips.

“No feelings, just sex.” You say.

“I agree, next one.” He says slowly lifting your dress up your thighs and placing a kiss on your sweet spot.

“That’s means no snuggling and no staying.” Your dress inching closer and closer to your core.

“Okay but you don’t have to just leave straight away.” Your brows frown together as your dress is pulled up over your ass.

You grab his hands to stop them from bunching your dress any higher.

“You want me to stay after?”

“Why not friends have sleepovers.” Auston says.

“Well I don’t particularly want to stay after sex, I think that’s kinda... I don’t know.. like intimate.” You shrug

“So let me get this straight, sex we can do but sleeping next to each other in the same bed that’s too intimate?” Auston asks raising an eyebrow.

“It’s different okay.” You roll your eyes.

“You really don’t want to stay?” He asks pushing you slowly back into the counter. You shake your head.

“Fine, I’ll agree.”

“Thank you.” You sigh letting go of his hands and Auston starts lifting your dress again.

“Protection?” He asks he hands pulling the dress up to the small of your waist.

“I am on birth control, but we should use condoms too, I mean we aren’t exclusive.” You shrug running your hands up his muscular arms, wrapping them around his neck.

“Deal, next?” He asks lifting you up onto his kitchen island.

“We stay friends, after this ends, we stay friends okay?” You ask as Auston pulls your dress completely off. He looks you in the eyes and you see nothing but sincerity.

“Of course Y/N.” He leans in resting his hands on either side of you on the counter, his lips brushing yours gently.

“Anything you wanna add?” You ask.

“Not a rule but a question, do we want to tell people?”

“I mean I am okay with it being between you and me, are you?” You say as you lightly press your lips to his.

“Yeah I am. But what about your friend from the bar?” He asks.

“I’ll handle her.” You say.

He leans in and kisses you his hands going to the small of your back and yours tangle into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Now that’s sorted, are you going to let me fuck you?” He asks pulling way.

“Well since you asked so nicely.” You laugh as he reattaches his lips to yours.

Auston used his body to step in between your legs, you run your hands down the front of his chest to the hem of his shirt, pulling the material up over his head as you break the kiss. You let your hands run overs his shoulders and back to his neck bringing him back into you, your lips drop to his jaw lightly kissing the stubble as you work your way back along to his full lips. Auston brings his hands from the small of your back up to unclasp your bra and pulling the fabric down your arms and once you are free of the fabric he envelopes your breast in his large calloused hands squeezing gently as you break the kiss to moan, throwing your head back. Austons lips attack your neck as he circles one of his thumbs around your stiffened nipple before taking in between his index finger and thumb.

He flattens his palm against your chest, pushing you down against the island, the cold marble causing goosebumps to erupt all across your skin.

Austons mouth continues its assault south. Kissing down between the valley of your breast, his fingers loop into the lace covering you core and he pulls it down your legs as his lips suck and lightly bite down your torso leaving marks in their wake. Auston stands between your legs raking his eyes hungrily up and down your naked body, normally you would be trying to somewhat cover yourself up while feelings of self consciousness bubble to the surface. But under Austons gaze you felt alive and desired and you loved it.

“God. Perfect.” He growls staring at your dripping heat.

He runs two of his fingers through your folds teasing your entrance before moving just a little higher to the bundle of nerves that made your back arch when he made contact. A soft moan escaped your lips as his fingers continued there assault on your clit.

“Aus please.” You moan.

“What do you need baby.”

You needed more, although you adored the way his fingers made you feel, you had already experienced them tonight and you were a lot more interested in what else Auston had to offer.

You pushed yourself of the island grabbing hold of Austons wrist and removing his fingers from your slick heat. He raised his eyebrow at you questioning your actions but before he could ask you slide off the bench top and spun Auston around so his back was against the island. You attached your lips to his neck nipping and biting softly at the flesh under your lips before caressing the light marks you had left with your tongue as your hands fell to his belt, unbuckling it and pulling it completely out of the belt loops tossing it somewhere in the kitchen. You started to kissed a little lower down his neck to his collarbone giving it the same treatment. His hands were greedily kneading the flesh of your ass as his head lulled forward, his lips ghosting past your ear as a deep guttural groan emanated from the back of his throat as your fingers popped open the button of his jeans, unzipping them slowly adding pressure as you felt his member growing harder under your touch.

You kiss further down his chest before you’re sliding onto your knees between his legs pulling his jeans down past his knees, you take him in your hand from beneath the restraining fabric of his briefs. He takes your hair into both of his hands, creating a makeshift ponytail. You lean forward, swirling your tongue around the head of his swollen cock and he groans quietly, subconsciously pulling your head closer to him. You stroke him slowly, licking his tip teasingly his thighs are flexing underneath your finger as the hand that isn’t wrapped around him runs up and down the muscles slowly and he begins to grow more frustrated the longer you continue, so you look up at him and take him into your mouth all the way. He maintains eye contact with you, gently pushing your head down a little further.

“Fuck,” He moans when you swallow around him. You start to bob your head up and down, dropping your other hand down to his thigh nails digging into his tan skin as you allow him to take control with his hand in your hair. You gag a few times still adjusting to his size when he hits the back of your throat, but it’s nothing you can’t take so you try to go deeper. Your nose brushes against his pubic bone for just a second, his hand still pressing against your head until you gag a little louder and he pulls you off of him slightly, with your lips still wrapped around him you still haven’t broken eye contact with him.

“God you have no idea how hot you look right now.” He says through labored breaths.

You giggle around him, you bob your head faster, the room filling with the filthy sound of your lips around him slurping and gagging as he pushes further down your throat. Suddenly his fist clench at the root of your scalp pulling you off of him completely. His fingers untangle from your hair and slide around to the front of your neck squeezing slightly as he uses his grip to help you back up to your feet.

“I need to be inside of you.” He growls pulling your face to his and as your lips meet its full of lust and hunger.

You pull away and reach behind Auston for your bag on the island, you feel his palm caress over your bare ass before he pulls back and spanks you harshly your hips thrusting forward into the bench top. You unzip your bag and unceremoniously empty out the entire contents across the bench in search of the small foil packet you so desperately needed. Finding it you hand it back to Auston with your back still to him, hoping that he would understand.

“Planning on get some tonight huh.” Auston teases ripping the foil open with his teeth.

“Mmmhmm but I had to settle for you.” You laughed.

“Is that so.”

Before you could even respond he had slammed into you from behind, a breathy scream falling from your lips as your hips rutted forward from the impact into the bench and you knew you were going to have bruises there in the morning. Auston stilled behind you for a moment spreading your legs further open with his foot as his hands found home on your hips, he pulled back until only his tip remained before using his grip on your hips to guide you back along his member. You moaned at how full he made you feel, he set a hard and steady pace with his tip grazing your g spot every time he thrust in. Your hands were struggling to find something to hold onto as your arms were to short to reach any of the other sides of the island, Auston noticed this and harshly grabbed your arms and pulled them behind your back, holding your two wrist in one of his large hands as the other snaked around to your clit rubbing harsh circles.

“Aus fuck, please.” You gasped out in pleasure as your orgasm began to build.

“You close baby.” He groaned rubbing faster on your clit. “I can feel how close you are.”

Your legs were shaking as you were so close to your high.

“Cum for me baby.” Austons thrust we’re growing sloppy and you knew that neither of you were going to last much longer.

“Cum on my fucking cock.”

You were ashamed to admit that that was all it took for you to completely unravel around him, Auston fucked you through your high and a few sloppy thrust later he emptied into the condom inside of you.

[hockey-hoe-24-7]

4 times you were a tease + 1 time he didn’t let you get away with it, feat. Frederik Andersen

Warnings: Smut, Edging, Teasing, Light bondage, Dom Freddie, Didn’t really spell check, the end is rushed cause I was over it. So this kind of sucks.

Length: 4.0k

You wouldn’t actually call yourself a tease. It wasn’t, like, a personality trait. But you would admit that you loved teasing your boyfriend. 

Starting goalie for the Toronto Maple Leafs, Frederik Andersen was the quintessential strong silent type, known for his calming presence in the net and out of it. The rare moments he did let his temper show, it was a shock to most. As his girlfriend, you had witnessed that temper than most others, but not often. He had confided in you that it had taken him a long time to reign in his anger and you respected that, were proud of him for it. 

The place you really wanted him to let go, though, was in the bedroom. You had only been dating for 6 months, sleeping together for 5 and you could tell he was holding back sexually. Whether it be his size or for fear of hurting or scaring you in some way, you weren’t sure. The sex was absolutely amazing...but there was something missing. 

You planned on addressing that.

I.

“Babe, are you ready?” Freddie’s voice echoed through the hallways of his apartment to where you stood in his master bathroom, putting the finishing touches on your makeup. 

“Yeah, can you come help me for a second?” You called back. You hear his heavy footsteps on the wood floors before he appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, looking fan-fucking-tastic in a navy blue suit. His eyebrows popped when he saw you standing at the mirror in only a black lace bra and a matching thong, hair and makeup done to the nines. 

Uncapping a tube of deep red lipstick, you took your time applying it, very aware that he was watching your every move with rapt attention. He had always loved your mouth. After a very drawn out lipstick application, you capped it, set it down on the marble counter, and reached for your dress hanging on the door in a dry cleaner bag. 

You made a point of ignoring Freddie as he continued to watch all your movements. You bent over, brushing your hair casually over your shoulder to give him an unobstructed view of your cleavage.  You caught him shifting out of the corner of your eye, his arms crossing over his chest and his body leaning against the doorframe. 

You slowly pulled the dress up your legs, letting him enjoy the show...and so you wouldn’t tear it because it was a very expensive dress and you happened to really like it. 

When you got to your hips, you shimmied a bit and you saw him twitch, as if he only just restrained himself from moving toward you.  Once you had the dress over your hips, you raised your head and looked at him innocently. 

“Help me with the zipper?” With that, you turned your back on him and waited, subtly watching him in the mirror. His face was serious as he stepped forward and slowly moved to stand behind you, the heat of him flush against the bare skin of your back. Instead of going straight to the zipper of your dress, his hands settled at your bares shoulders and wandered slowly down your spine before cradling your hips. You shuddered and heard his inhale sharply before he pulled you back against his chest and buried his face in your neck, laying a hot open mouthed kiss to your throat. Groaning, your eyes fluttered shut and you let your head fall to the side for him. 

When you felt his fingers inch under the waistband of your thong, your eyes snapped open and you stepped out of his grip. Looking over your shoulder, you almost laughed aloud at his surprised expression. “Zipper.” His beautiful face fell into a pout, but he did as instructed, leaving one chaste kiss on your exposed shoulder. With that, you brushed past him and made for the door, not even sparing him a glance as he mumbled something in Danish and skulked after you.

II.

The charity event had been a blast for many reasons. It was always fun to hang out with the other players and their SOs. 

You also had ample chance to tease your boyfriend. 

Light touches throughout the evening, leaning back against him when talking to other people, pressing your chest flush to his when you needed to pass by him. Like all the other players, he was expected to be social tonight so he couldn’t just drag you to the bathroom and fuck you, but you could tell he was beginning to lose patience. 

Unfortunately, before he could take you home and fuck the hell out of you, the two of you were invited out for a teammate’s birthday and ended up staying out until nearly 3:30 am. Both of you had been too exhausted to do much of anything when you got home. You had barely gotten your dress and makeup off before passing out. 

Now, the next day, you woke up by yourself, the bed noticeably colder without Freddie next to you. Patting around the bed, you eventually found your phone and checked the time. 11:15 am. Damn. You had really slept in. You were meeting your mom for lunch and shopping at 12. That worked out perfectly. 

Making quick work of a shower, make up and changing into something clean, you sauntered out to find your boyfriend sitting on the couch, playing video games. 

Walking up behind him, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and nuzzled your face into his neck, savoring the warmth and familiar smell of him. You wish you had woken up sooner so you could stay exactly like this for a few more hours. 

“Morning, min elskede,” he rumbled, turning to press a kiss to your temple. “Heading out soon?” You made a sound of confirmation against the fabric of his hoodie. Pulling your head up to rest your chin on his shoulder, you watched him play for a few seconds. “Can they hear me?” You asked. “Yeah,” he answered distractedly. He wasn’t particularly good at video games, but he was getting better. 

Pressing your face back into his neck, you let your lips only just graze the dribbled skin there. He inhaled sharply and went rigid. His hands stilling on the controller. “Think you can stay quiet?” You murmured against the shell of his ear. He didn’t answer so you moved your hands down the broad width of his chest until you reached the band of his sweatpants. Hesitating a long second, you reached down - not very easily because he was so damn tall - and palmed his cock. He let out a streak of curses and instinctively bucked his hips against your grip. You reminded him that you had an audience with a “ssshhhhh” against the shell of his ear. You felt his jaw tense against the side of your head as you let your fingers slowly massage his cock, which was growing harder and harder against your hand. When you loosened your grip, his own hand slapped over yours, forcing your fingers to tighten. You nipped his ear in retaliation and he sucked in another right breath, his hips jackknifing nearly off the couch.

Just as quick as you had started, you pulled away. “Shit, I’m late.” Which wasn’t actually a lie. Freddie looked at you furiously and you thought you had him this time. He certainly looked like he was ready to pull you over the couch and fuck you raw.  But much to your chagrin, he took a deep breath and looked away, his body still pulled right with anticipation.

Dammit. The cool,calm and collected had won again.

“Have fun,” he all but snarled at you. “Tell your mom hello.” Ignoring the pang of irritation, you kissed the top of his head and snatched up your purse. 

III.

You ended up spending the entire day with your mom, grabbing lunch, walking up and down the streets of Toronto, stopping into different shops, etc. You had a dinner tonight with Freddie and some other couples on the team, so you stopped by your own apartment to get ready. You were already pushing it with the time so you told Freddie to come pick you up instead of going to his place first.

An hour later, there was a rapping at your door. Giving yourself a final once over in the mirror, you opened the door to see Freddie looking as gorgeous as ever in another well tailored suit. He went completely still as he took you in. Whereas the dress you had worn to the charity event had been elegant and sexy in an understated way, this dress was more of a smack-you-in-the-face, grab-you-by-the-dick kind of sexy. Short and figuring hugging, it fit you like a second skin and made you feel like a goddess.

“Ready?” You asked nonchalantly. As you made to brush past him, his hand was suddenly at your elbow and he was hauling you back until your body met the open door. You grunted in surprise, but it was short lived as Freddie pressed his body against yours, dwarfing you even in your four inch heels. Hands framing your head, he pressed you back until you had to crane your neck to meet his gaze.

“I know what you’re doing,” he growled down at you. You could barely hold in your gasp as he pushed his knee up between your legs, the fabric of his dress pants coarse against the bare skin of your thighs. “And you need to watch it, little girl. It won’t end well for you.” A burst of heat in your belly and you were immediately wet.

You could have given in, let him have you right there in the hallway of your apartment building, let him release all that isn’t up frustration you knew he was keeping from you. You could feel it like like a pulse beneath his skin and a deep part of you screamed out for it. Instead, you mustered every ounce of willpower you had to rise onto your tiptoes and murmur against his lips, “I have no idea what you are talking about.” A soft peck and you were wiggling out of his grip and sauntering down the hallway, an extra swing in your hips.

IV.

The entire car ride to the restaurant, Freddie had his hand dangerously high on your thigh, his fingers nearly wrapping completely around your leg. You always loved his hands. Whether they were holding your hands, holding your leg, or holding your throat, you loved them. Now, you let your fingers toy with his, an absentminded display of intimacy you had both grown to enjoy.

When you reached the restaurant, Freddie rounded the car to open the door for you and help you out. You in made sure he got a nice view of your legs as you took your time stepping out of the car. Aware that people were staring, he kept an arm tight around your waist as he ushered you into the restaurant and toward the table the other couples were already seated at. It was Mitch who let out a good hearted wolf whistle and Steph who pinched him, even though she was smiling too. She stood up to greet you, arms open. “Damn, Y/N, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were single in that dress.” You laughed and embraced her.

The dinner was delicious, as usual, and the wine was making you all warm and fuzzy inside. As planned, Freddie couldn’t keep his hands off of you all night, from wrapping his arm around your shoulders to stroking his hand up and down your leg. After an hour or so, you excused yourself to use the restroom. Seeing the bathroom hallway and the women’s bathroom were empty, you took out your phone and furiously texted your boyfriend to meet you ASAP. He was at your side in less than 15 seconds, looking so concerned you almost felt bad for what you we’re about to do. Almost. 

“Y/N, what’s—“

Grabbing him by the front of his jacket, you dragged him into the women’s bathroom, shoving him up against the door once it was closed. Standing as far as you could on your tiptoes, you threw your arms around his neck and crushed your mouth onto his. It took him no time to respond instinctively, his mouth slanting over yours and his hands clapping over your hips. He lifted you like you weighed nothing and you wrapped your legs tight around his hips. He crossed the small bathroom in three long strides until he could set you on the sink counter. His hands thrust into your hair, moving your head to suit his needs. You bit his bottom lip and he groaned deep in reply, giving your hair a sharp yank. Tightening your grip around his neck, you pulled until he palmed your ass and pulled you closer to the edge of the sink, bending your body back and against his own until you could feel every taut muscle in his chest. One large hand was then running down your thigh and back up beneath your dress. You gasped into his mouth when we pushed two fingers slowly inside of you. He bit hard on your bottom lip, as if reminding you to not stop kissing him.  Just as you were slipping your hands under his shirt, a loud burst of male laughter from the hallway startled you both. Freddie leapt always from you, struggling to catch his breath, his cock straining against his dress pants. You put a hand to your chest, trying to catch your own breath. 

You didn’t blame him for his reaction. He had a reputation to uphold here. One that didn’t include breaking a sink while fucking his girlfriend in the bathroom of an upscale restaurant. As you straightened your hair, he was suddenly on top of you again, clenching your chin in his hand and forcing your head back to meet his gaze. “We’re finishing this tonight.” An order. You took a deep breath. “You know I’m meeting some out of town friends after this. I haven’t see them in 5 months.” Freddie’s expression was murderous and, for a small moment, you wondered if you had gone too far. But then he was leaning forward until you were nearly nose to nose. "You are going to pay for this." And then he was turning around and stalking out of the bathroom, nearly breaking the door in half. You gave yourself a few more seconds to compose yourself before following him back to the table.

V.

You ended up staying out until 3 am with your out of town friends and crashing at the apartment on an in town friend,having gotten too drunk to navigate your route home. You had shot Freddie a quick text explaining the situation and gotten a simple “ok” in response. Not abnormal for him. But you could practically feel his frustration through the phone. Good.

When you did finally make your way back to his apartment around 9 am the next morning, it was to hear the shower going in his room.  Shedding your own clothes, you took a long moment to admire the view of him standing beneath the shower head, rivulets of water running across the plains of his skin, the crevices of his muscles. You could stare at him for hours, but you were beginning to shiver. Knocking on the glass door to alert him to your presence, your heart twittered when he smiled softly and stepped back to make room for you. Stepping beneath the spray, you shivered as your body adjusted to the new temperature. The two of you showered in a comfortable silence and you found yourself being done before he was. He was definitely more of a leisurely showerer when he was at home.

Before you stepped out of the shower, you pushed yourself as far up on your tiptoes as you could go and placed a long, wet kiss to the strong column of his throat. He groaned and let his head fall back, his hands skimming down your sides to your hips. As he began to pull you tighter into him, you stepped out of his grip. Looking up at him, you almost laughed at his expression. 

“I’m all done.” A kiss to the center of his chest and you were stepping out of the shower, grabbing a towel and heading back to the bedroom. You hadn’t even stepped into the bedroom before you heard the shower turn off and Fred’s feet hitting the marble floor. You squealed in surprise when he latched a hand over your wrist and pulled you back into his chest. You hit it with a thud and didn’t even have time to recover before he was slamming his mouth on yours in a punishing kiss. You groaned and clutched at his shoulders. You squealed again when he plucked you up off the ground, you legs wrapping tight around his hips, one arm holding you to him effortlessly. Then the two of you were moving, walking through the bedroom and collapsing onto the bed.

When your back hit the mattress, you reached in between your bodies, desperate to have him inside of you. You fisted his cock, intent on guiding him inside of you, but he was faster. Grabbing both of your wrists in his hands, he shackled them to the mattress above your head. He pulled his mouth from yours, your breath still mingling.

“Oh no, sweetheart,” he murmured. “It won’t be half that easy.”

“Fred-”

But he was moving off of you, landing a stinging slap to your hip. “Don’t move.” You didn’t think twice about disobeying him, only watched as he crossed the room and picked last night’s tie from the floor.  His eyes were dark and hooded as he moved toward you again. 

“Hands on the bedpost.”

Heat flooding between your legs, you did as you were told, wiggling across the mattress to grab the corner bedpost. He met you there, jerking your hands roughly so you were holding the post between your wrists. With quick hands, he tied you to the bedpost. Instinctively, you pulled at the bondage, found that it was nice and tight, but you could probably get loose if you really tried.

Not that you wanted to. 

Freddie was looming over you, leaning down until you were nearly nose to nose. “Safe word is blue. Say it.”

“Blue.”

“Again.”

“Blue.”

A satisfied smirk. “Good girl.” 

He pecked you on the mouth before moving onto the bed again, parting your legs and kneeling between them. You were completely exposed to him, no part of you hidden from eyes that shamelessly roamed your body like he owned it.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through these last few days?” he asked, his voice deep and husky with arousal as he leaned over you, brushing his lips over your jaw. “Teasing me.” A light kiss. “Driving me insane.” Another. “Then walking away.” A sharp bite that made you flinch.  His mouth came to yours again and took it in a long, hard kiss. “Now it’s your turn,” he continued. “To be teased until you’re begging me to fuck you.” You whimpered in response, flexing your hips beneath his weight.

But he was pulling away, trailing his mouth back to your jaw and down your throat with exquisite slowness. Arching your neck for him, you whimpered again when he ignored the obvious plea and moved his mouth down your breastbone to the valley of your breasts. He kissed one beaded nipple with just enough pressure that you gave a light gasp and arched into him. He moved to the other, taking this one fully into his mouth, pressing his tongue flat against it.  As pleasure began to build, he moved yet again and you let out a frustrated curse. You felt his lips quirk into a smile against your skin before he continued moving, kissing down your stomach until he was just above your pussy. Suddenly he was leaning back and pulling your hips up off the bed, raising your ankles over his shoulders so you were completely helpless. You felt a tight kiss a breath above your clit and you tried to close your legs around his head, but he easily pried them back open. After a few more teasing kisses just shy of where you needed them, his mouth pressed lightly to your clit. You gasped and arched your hips into the touch. You were being shameless and you knew it. And you didn’t care. Here, with him, you felt nothing but want.

He didn’t open his mouth and eat you like wanted-needed-him to. All he gave you were small, tight lipped kisses that drove your desperation higher and higher. When he finally did open his mouth slightly to lick your throbbing clit, you thought he might just push you over...but he pulled away. Writhing in his grip, you tried to chase the high, but it faded away.

Giving you one last nip to the thigh, Freddie moved your legs back down to the bed, slowly running his hands up to your thighs. “What do you need, baby?” he asked, his voice low and taunting. “Tell me.”

“Fred, I need-I need you.”

He grinned at that, clearly amused and satisfied by your words.

“Hmmm. This what you need?”

Leaning over you, he slid his cock through the folds of your pussy. You moaned long and loud as your eyes fluttered shut with pleasure. Pulling back, he gave another long, slow thrust, his cock only just grazing your clit. 

Bracing his arms on either side of your head, he took your mouth in a deep, wet kiss. You instinctively moved to wrap your arms around his shoulders, but came up against the binds. It was brutal, having no anchor against the onslaught of sensation. Freddie was breathing deeply, his chest pressing deep into yours as he continued to slide his cock through your folds, keeping you at a torturous level of pleasure. Back and forth, back and forth, it was an exquisite pain.

As if he knew you were finally going to reach your climax, he backed off again, leaving you just at the edge.

“Easy, baby,” he murmured against your cheek. “Not yet. Not yet.” He leaned away again, running his hands down your body as he did.

You heaved in a breath as you dangled on the edge of your climax, then fell back again. 

“What’s it like, baby?” he asked, running his hands up your thighs and then back down again. “To just get there? And not have it?”

You only whimpered in reply, your entire body begging for him. He had you and he knew it. You would do anything for him now.

He slowly leaned back down, hovering over you until your mouths barely touched. “Apologize for teasing me.”

“I’m-I’m sorry for teasing you.”

You were rewarded by him guiding just the tip of his cock inside of you. You both groaned and shuddered at the burning pleasure, Freddie’s head dropping to your chest as he struggled for control. You writhed, trying to get him deeper, but he slapped a hand to your hip, stilling you instantly.

“God, Y/N, you drive me fucking crazy.”

“Freddie, baby, please-”

You both groaned as he pushed deeper inside of you, pushing slowly until he reached the hilt.  You shuddered and let yourself be taken over by the pleasure of having him inside of you. You clenched around him and he cursed. He suddenly reared up onto his knees and grabbed your hips, pulling you up off the bed. Pulling out of you, he slammed back in again. Soon, he took up a brutal pace, his hands digging hard into your hips, your body nearly completely off the bed.  All you could do was give yourself up to the sex, to what he was demanding from you.

The orgasm, when it came, was violent and overwhelming, robbing you of breath as it washed over every inch of you, stuttered your heart in your chest.

Freddie came with a curse his hips slamming into yours one last time before he collapsed on top of you, keeping his full weight braced on his arm. The two of you stayed like that for a long moment, struggling to catch your breath as your orgasms slowly faded. You felt Freddie’s hand cup your cheek and he turned it to face him.

“Okay?” he asked. You nodded in reply and pressed your mouth to his.

“If you think this is going to deter me from teasing you again, you are very wrong.”

He laughed, the sound so deep and husky you shivered with renewed arousal.

“I hope not.”

[bubbashawn]

Fine Line || part i

author: here we go, lovies!! Want to give a quick shoutout to my babe @wholesomemendes because Kaleigh has been so supportive and I love her. Also quick thanks to @sauveteen and @shawnjpeg for writing you flower, you feast (I tagged it) because it made me want to do this and @watchmegetobsessed because she reinstated my need to write this story when I read back to you (i tagged it). I hope you fall in love with Maia like I did and enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it!!

synopsis: she walks the fine line between friends and lovers. he walks the fine line between love and heartbreak. they walk the fine line where everything is blurred.

warnings: 4.2k of oblivious “best friends” obsessing over each other. It’s a little angsty but more fluffy than anything.

Jet-lagged Shawn is simultaneously Maia’s favorite and least favorite version of Shawn. Or maybe her favorite was her drunk Best Friend after her seventeenth birthday when he became affectionate and clingy crying out her name. But the jet-lagged version was definitely up there.

He looked soft, in grey sweatpants and his ‘Youth’ sweatshirt. With hooded eyes, rosy cheeks, and chapped lips, emulating a sigh from the back of his throat. Exhaustion hid messily behind his smiling features. It was clear to her though. Maia could recall this look, and his crushing weight on top of her, since high school before he was selling out stadiums.

She enjoyed this sleepy side because she knew what followed his sweet demeanor. His forehead would crease, his hands would tug at his perfect curls, his voice would drop to a grumble while his muscles flexed. It was the worst.

Maia has seen a lot of jet-lagged Shawn throughout the years. Whether he was in a different country while on tour or flying to Los Angeles from Toronto too much, she’d confidently say she knew her best friend in this state quite well.

The Oceania leg of his headlining world tour was complete. Shawn had rushed from Auckland, New Zealand all the way to his condo, and happily found her curled around the softest blanket he owned, sunk into his white couch.

The second he heard ‘New Girl’ reruns coming from his tv through the door, his heart was light. Finding Maia exactly where he hoped she’d be, just bringing up his heart rate further. And he took a minute just drinking her in. It didn’t matter that her hair was messy with knots littered about, that her, his, sweater was wrinkled, and she softly snored. It didn’t matter that those noises began overpowering the dialogue of the show she’d seen too many times to count.

What mattered to Shawn was seeing his Maia for the first time in months. She didn’t live here, though he had asked her to move in with him on multiple occasions, she had always refused because her life was in Montreal, five hours and eleven minutes away from him. A few hours doesn’t seem terrible, because frankly, it wasn’t, but Shawn missed seeing her the moment he got home. Back when she lived in Toronto, a mere four-minute drive from the famous boy, Maia ended up spending more time frolicking through his halls than her own.

Things did change, though. No matter how hard Shawn denied it. Because she got her dream job, and she moved away. Away from him.

Yet, here she was. His Maia, five hours away from her congested apartment, instead found sleeping soundly in his. Shawn couldn’t be happier seeing her there. He toed the heel of his Chelsea boots off his feet and shuffled over, praying his socks would mute the sounds of movement. Crouched by Maia’s face, hand coming up to cup her cheek, he was undeniably adoring her. He stared from this closer angle before pressing the calloused pad of his thumb across her cheekbone and peacefully roused her from her dreams.

“Papillon?”

She had called him that jokingly in school after a French class they had together. Leaning against her locker as students bustled and shoved their way down the small halls of Pine Ridge Secondary School. One extra aggressive classmate pushed so hard against Shawn’s bag he ended up pressed into Maia.

“You’re so fragile, Papillon.”

“Papillon? What ev-”

“It’s French for butterfly.”

“Really? And why am I a butterfly again?”

She had responded with some stupid excuse about him being delicate and a clutz before shoving him off her chest.

The nickname stuck. It didn’t matter that Shawn’s limbs had filled out or that he could lift her off the ground with ease. He was always Maia’s Papillon.

Her eyes were shut tight, her brows furrowed, and she mewled his name in question over and over.

“Maia,” he smiled when your shifting eased as his voice echoed along the walls, “Flower, I’m right here. Open your eyes, M.”

“Papillon?”

He watched as her eyes opened and nodded, his smile only growing when her arms wrapped around his neck.

Maia had driven, on Ontario-401 East, with every intention of surprising Shawn. She had thought about going all out, but after considering how jetlagged he’d be, Maia simply bought some popcorn preparations and flipped his television on.

“When did you get in?”

“About an hour ago. We took the long route home, Jake said something about a wreck on Gardiner Expressway.”

She nodded, too overwhelmed by her happiness to speak more. Maia’s hands found the small of his back, under the navy fabric of his sweatshirt, and pulled his body over her figure. Shawn’s arms quickly adjusted to brace his weight on his forearms on either side of her pouting face.

“What?” He flicked the hairs framing her face out of her eyes, “don’t give me that look!”

Her hands pressed down harder on his back, trying to effectively press his body down to hers.

“Stop! Your hands are so fucking cold. Jesus Christ, woman.”

Maia’s hands slipped out from under his clothes, holding his shoulders. Pulling down harshly, still wanting his weight on her.

“Honey,” Shawn’s hands slid along her jaw, “hey, I really don’t want to crush you.”

“Just c’ mere.”

“Flower, I love you, but I’ll crush you.”

He wasn’t lying; his 6’2” frame would smother Maia’s shorter figure, by seven inches. She had always been dainty, her hands barely reaching his second knuckles when they compared their hands.

“I know,” she smiled sheepishly, “you’re just far away.”

Shawn agreed, even though their legs were intertwined, her chest was pressed to his, and he felt her familiar heartbeat. He smiled softly when Maia continued pouting until he quickly shifted to flip their position. His body, now resting against the cushions, cradled her as she laid on top of him.

“I’m right here,” his hands made grabby motions at her hips.

She was quick to oblige, her head tucking into the crook of his body. Her lips grazed the crease in his shoulder, her hair brushed along the underside of his jaw. This was her favorite Shawn, the one who seemed happy to just exist with her.

“Bub.”

“Mmm?” He hummed against her skin, Maia felt the goosebumps crawling up her spine from the vibration.

"I have popcorn and hot chocolate makings on your counter.”

He hummed again, softer this time. Shawn knew they'd move from this position before too long because she wasn’t really his to hold, not like this, at least. No matter how many times he called her his Maia. She’d never be his, not really.

“Let me hold you a little longer,” he relished in the feeling of her lips pressed sweetly to his neck, “okay? M, just a little longer.”

“You good?”

His hands squeezed the curve of her side, before letting her pull away just barely. His perfect Maia coming into view.

“More than good,” he smiled as she brushed her finger down the bridge of his nose, “perfect, really.”

Her smile grew, her gaze remained locked on his. Maia leaned down, kissing the scar on his cheek, remembering that day happily. His heart almost hurt from beating so hard, and Shawn had to hold back a whimper when her eyelashes fluttered. She was so perfect, staring down at him. The moment broke off much too fast for either of them as she rose to her feet, hand outstretched for his.

“I love you, Papillon.”

“I love you too,” Shawn’s eyes locked on their intertwined hands, “God, I really fucking missed you.”

She just laughed and pulled him towards the kitchen. Both with gushing smiles and red cheeks, looking like a teenager with a stupid crush.

Maia wasn’t lying when she told Shawn she’d gone shopping for popcorn, but she wasn’t being completely truthful either. She had stocked up all his cabinets with food of all kinds, including a takeout box holding his favorite french toast from Regine Cafe, a local favorite down the block from her Montreal apartment. She had bought the makings of chocolate chip muffins, and he saw what looked like all the parts of a traditional English roast dinner. Shawn’s favorite meal his mom, Karen, makes when she comes by.

“You’re too good to me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re too good to me, we even out,” she chuckled, stepping up behind him, “I know you get homesick, and I just saved your mum the drive down. She always made you food before you get home, and I was already here. It made sense, Shawn.”

He hadn’t even been processing Maia’s voice behind him, all too focused on her small arms looping around his waist, her chin resting between his shoulder blades.

“Either way, thank you.”

“You’d do the same.”

“True,” she could practically hear his eye roll, “but, just let me say thank you.”

“Okay.”

The two just remained in the corner of the kitchen, enjoying the sweet, homey silence of Shawn’s condo. They worked happily making hot chocolate because it was past midnight, neither of them needing caffeine, and Maia had never liked the bitterness of coffee. Before long, they both had steaming mugs being stirred with silver spoons.

“Put your drink down.”

“Why?”

“Just,” he smiled at her confused look, “trust me, okay? Drink down, Flower, please.”

The moment the ceramic touched the marble countertop, his hands found the small of her waist just above her hips. He lifted Maia into the air, chuckling, as she squealed in shock. The hair of her arms stood up, her warm skin made contact with the cold counter she was now sitting on. She nearly gasped when Shawn’s hands found home under her shirt where the fabric met her cotton shorts, kneading the skin gently.

“You’re crazy,” her head fell to his shoulder.

“Yeah, for you. Only for you, M.”

Her heart dropped, freezing up her whole body, but Shawn’s hands continued to massage the tight muscle.

“Jesus, woman, why are you so tense? It’s just me.”

“Would you stop saying ‘woman’?”

“You are one, aren’t you?”

He was being cheeky, Maia’s body remained stiff in his hold.

“Relax,” his lips kissed her forehead, hoping she’d melt into his touch again, he repeated his mumble, “it’s just me.”

Shawn continued to move his hands, reassuring her of his words, until she slumped against him like putty in his hands. She turned her head, letting her lips brush the soft skin above his collarbone. Maia’s eyes fluttered closed, enjoying their closeness, knowing she couldn’t have it for much longer.

“Honey,” she hummed against his skin, sending vibrations down his spine, “what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve just been clingy.”

Maia’s eyes snapped open the second he finished his remark, quickly, adjusting her legs, forcing Shawn to move out from between her thighs. She offered him a half-ass, awkward smile before hopping off the counter.

“Whoa, wha-what?” He followed her figure with his eyes, not moving, still in shock from her sudden distance, “what just happened?”

“Nothing, um, I’m heading to bed, it’s late.”

“Flower…”

“See you in the morning?”

“What about,” his eyes searched for an excuse for her to stay, “what about your hot chocolate?”

“You can have it or just dump it in the sink.”

Shawn nodded his head, a frown on that perfect face of his as he watched Maia leave the kitchen, wandering down the hall.

He just stood there, processing the demeanor change, it was completely drastic to your soft persona he adored so much. His hands found his curls tugging on them harshly like she had predicted he would at some point, just not for the same reason. Shawn hated it when she blocked herself off from him, especially when he caused it.

Maia was never one to let her emotions out, she liked to keep them bottled so no one would worry until Shawn would mumble one word and she’d be falling apart in his arms.

His hands absentmindedly found the two lukewarm mugs dumping them into his sink and placing them on the metal drainer, reminding himself to deal with it in the morning. The quiet the two of them shared, now seemed bitter practically nipping at his mind until he walked down his hallway. He found himself staring at his bedroom door.

He let the light from the hall sneak in when he entered the room, not wanting to disturb your quiet and unmoving body with the overhead fixtures. His hands found the neckline of his soft sweatshirt, pulling it from his body. The once comforting warmth was now claustrophobic against his flustered skin. Shawn wanted her cold fingertips to run along the valleys in his back, to lure him to sleep. He lightly padded his way to the bed, feeling around the duvet for the curve of Maia’s figure only to come up empty. The mattress was cold, her perfume only lingering from that morning when she crawled out. Shawn could feel his stomach drop, knowing she was upset enough to not curl into his king-sized bed for comfort.

He flopped back, not bothering to pull any blanket over him, his arm folded behind his head as he considered his choices. Knowing Maia wouldn’t fall asleep laying across the hall from him, Shawn climbed out after only minutes of staring longingly from the ceiling to the crack between his door and the frame.

He stood silently in the hall, peeking into the guest room, sure enough seeing her resting form in a lump under the wool blanket stolen from his bed. His legs had a mind of their own walking towards you until he was kneeling at the foot of the mattress. He felt the fabric sink under the new weight, and Maia’s red eyes were connected with his all too welcoming honey ones. He could barely see her face, but the city lights reflected off her cheeks, tear tracks hitting him in the gut all over again. Shawn walked around the bed until he was kneeling by her face, just like she’d seen him earlier that night.

“Shawn, what ar-” her voice was cracked, and she had sniffled when taking a breath.

“Baby,” he was basically whimpering, reaching to cup her damp cheeks, “I’m so sorry. You don’t have to tell me anything, okay? M, I shouldn’t hav-”

“Shaw-”

“No, I shouldn’t have pushed you to talk to me. I swear, I just wanted to be helpful. And you’re absolutely not clingy, I love it when you let me in, and you are so close to me. Flower, I’m so sorry, so, so sorry.”

Shawn was crying, when Maia’s hands gripped his. Pulling him into her embrace, this time, however, he let his weight crush her dainty figure.

Shawn buried his head deep in her dark hair, his lips moving next to her ear mumbling.

“Sorry, Baby,” he repeated, again and again, mixed with sweet nothings.

“Papillon, hey,” she pulled his head back, so their temples pressed together, his nose against her cheekbone, “hey, I overreacted, please calm down. It kills me to see you like this, Bub.”

He pulled back further to hold her gaze, both their teary eyes making them let out soft chuckles of relief. Shawn rolled them over, letting his Maia bury herself in his chest, breathing in his expensive cologne.

“I love you,” He littered kisses on her eyelids, before letting Maia curl up in her spot in his neck.

“Mmm,” she hummed, the goosebumps down Shawn’s spine were back, “I love you too, Papillon, so much.”

He smiled as her breathing evened out, her grip loosening but still holding his bare chest against her now sleeping body. Shawn let his hand travel across the expanse of her spine under his sweater, adorning her figure. Maia leaned into his touch, her mind not letting her overthink in its restful sleep. It was like all her inhibitions were gone when his calloused thumb stroked the curve between her shoulder blades, enjoying the softness of her tanned skin. This was Shawn’s favorite Maia. His Maia. It was rare, but when he could just hold her silently, it always sent a serene wave over his mind just being with the girl he adored, holding her.

Shawn didn’t mind that he didn’t sleep before the sun peeked through his windows, the rays sending a glow over the skin he could see from the gap between her shorts and the rolled-up knit fabric of his sweater. He didn’t mind staring at her with a soft smile because he couldn’t sleep. His jetlagged head was eight hours ahead of hers. He definitely wouldn’t mind curling up with her later when he did, finally, tire out sometime in the afternoon.

“Shawn?”

His gaze moved from where his hand grazed her skin to her now open eyes, hours after sunrise. Shawn took in the depth and warmth of her brown irises. He smiled when her cheeks crinkled as she giggled at his sheepish expression, after being caught watching her sleep.

“How long have you been up?”

“Not long,” he was lying, Maia could tell when he gazed back down at his hands, not daring to make eye contact, “how did you sleep?”

“Good. What time is it in New Zealand?”

“Like twelve or one I think, why?”

“You haven’t slept?”

“Honey, it’s fine. I’ll go to sleep early tonight, eh?”

She nodded yawning and enjoyed her view of her best friend's home. Maia’s hands found the edge of the covers, pushing them off of her, Shawn's hand slipping out from under her clothes when she adjusted. He quickly grabbed her waist, pulling her back into bed, flush against his chest when she tried to climb out.

“Where do you think you’re going, Flower?”

“Mmm, up.”

He held her tight when she went to stand again, laughing when she huffed, realizing she’d be unable to overpower his strength.

“Shawn, our day is already shortened because you’ll be collapsing in exhaustion by like two.”

“I’ll stay up for you.”

“Yeah,” she frowned from on top of him, his hands holding her down on his stomach, “you and I both know that’s not what I want, Papillon. It’s not healthy.”

“Stop your worrying, woman.”

“Stop calling me ‘woman’”

She groaned, still sitting on him, her legs on either side of his waist. His hands squeezed her legs, showing no signs of letting go at any point. Maia realized a morning cuddled into Shawn wouldn’t hurt, even if both their sleep schedules changed in the result, so she let her chest slump onto his and just enjoyed the feeling of his touch everywhere.

“Shawn?”

“Mmm?”

“How long are you home for?”

He sighed and his movements stopped for a moment before she looked up at him. Shawn smiled down at the girl in his arms before continuing to rub her back and kissed her forehead softly.

“My first show is the twenty-ninth,” he tried to ignore the pull on his heart when Maia frowned, “so, I’ll leave in a couple weeks for rehearsal and publicity.”

She nodded, wanting to say something along the line of ‘I wish you could stay’ or ‘I wish I could go with you’ but, wishes were all they’d be. So, Maia held her tongue not wanting to give Shawn any ideas or hopes that she’ll skip the rest of her school semester. She would skip the rest of the semester, she’d probably skip the rest of the year because no one, in her mindset, could say no to him.

“How long can you stay?”

“Um,” she glanced up at him, trying to see past the little stubble on his chin, resting on his chest to see his eyes, “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

His eyes looked down to hers in shock, the idea of her staying in Toronto with him for two weeks almost too overwhelming.

“Really?”

“I mean, yeah. I’m taking a couple classes online right now, so I’m in no rush.”

“In that case,” he tickled at her side, getting a sweet laugh in reward, “you’re stuck with me, forever.”

“Forever?”

“Baby, now that I have you, I’m not letting you leave this bed, much less my city. Or Drake’s city, whatever”

Maia giggled and settled back in his arms, smiling at the idea of being his forever, just the two of them holed up in his bed, his apartment, and this perfect little world for both of them. Her heart fell a bit, knowing he’d share that world with a different girl, eventually, that Maia wouldn’t always get the benefits of Shawn’s love once a girlfriend enters the picture. Once he finds the love of his life.

She couldn’t bear the idea, much less a reality like that. She pulled away, just slightly.

tbreak. She’d excuse her love towards the boy on multiple occasions by choosing to believe she just missed him like any best friend should. And maybe a bit more.

Shawn could read Maia like an open book, his concerned eyes watching her, searching for answers in her silence. He watched the shift in her eyes from its warm, chocolate color to a dark, sad muddied color.

“Hey, Honey,” he was still watching her reactions, “we’re taking advantage of this time, yeah? And then it’s only a month apart, and then we’ll be back in Pickering for Christmas. My parents would love to have you again, and then I can stay in Montreal with you for a while. You’re stuck with me, M. You should know that by now.”

She smiled, but that sweet light he loved hadn’t shown up again, so Shawn pulled her down onto his chest, hoping Maia would curl into him again. She’d be happy again, and that’s all he cared about.

“I love you, Flower.”

“I love you, too,” she rested her chin on his chest, the little hairs tickling her skin, to stare at him, “I’m just homesick, I think.”

“Want to go back to Pickering for a couple days, then? I was actually thinking that’d be a good trip. I’d love to see my parents and Aaliyah again.”

“No,” he looked confused with furrowed eyebrows, “I mean, yes, but I’m not homesick for Pickering. I think I’m just missing you more than usual.”

Shawn felt like jumping around and squeezing Maia, so she’d squeal in shock, but he settled for kissing the crown of her head and holding her hip that much tighter.

“I’m right here.”

She hummed, her lips pressed into his chest, feeling the thump of his heart. He was so close, acting like Maia’s favorite Shawn. Just holding her.

“Is that why you were upset? Last night?”

Maia nodded, deciding that was close enough to the feeling of her heartbreak. She’d excuse her love for the boy on multiple occasions by choosing to believe she just missed him, as any best friend should. And maybe a bit more.

“M,” Shawn waited for her eyes to lock on his, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Papillon.”

And for once he actually believed she could be his Maia. Not his best friend. Not the girl he loved since he was seventeen when he admitted his feelings, drunk. Not the Maia he adored from a distance. His Maia.

“C’mon, up we go,” she’s pulling at his hands, “it’s Sunday, so we can head to the farmer’s market. I’ll make that raspberry jam you like to put on the bagels I brought from Montreal. It’s time to explore, eh?”

Shawn’s perfect morning is ruined just like that. It’s a wave that hits him, pulling him underwater the rips too strong. He knew she wasn’t his — his Maia. He sat up letting the covers fall from his stunning physique that Maia tried to not ogle at before turning and sashaying her way into his kitchen.

This was their reality. Walking around the market, pinkies brushing each other, her eyes searching his profile covered by those stupid Tom Ford sunglasses. They couldn’t hold hands and they definitely couldn’t kiss. They just stood side by side, longing for something they feared they’d never get. Reality sucked.

flsm taglist: @oyesmendes @someinsanefangirl

permanent taglist: @wholesomemendes @fallinallincurls @ashwarren32 @mendesficsxbombay @haute-shawn @turtoix @prncsnee @http-isabela

[starrybethany]

Elias Pettersson - Ed Sheeran & Pink Roses

Word count: 3603

A white gown covering every inch of my skin because he says we should show skin “after the wedding.” A veil, because “a lot of my friends find you attractive and I don’t want to deal with that on my wedding day.” And a rock that weighs my hand down because it shows his power.

The eyes staring back into mine aren’t my own. A year ago I was so happy, but then this relationship was so rushed- so passionate- so dominate.

It took over every part of my life.

He took over every part of my life.

And the worst part is, I let him.

Somehow no one notices me slip out of the dressing room. No one hears my heels click against the marble floor of the fancy ass hotel he demanded we have this wedding at, and no one watched as I slipped into the passenger’s seat of my sister’s car.

“You don’t need to tell me ‘I told you so’,” I state blankly, keeping my gaze forward and on a window of the hotel.

I’m waiting for his mother to stop out, full of rage like she always is, and demand me to get back in the hotel and marry her son so that they can both torture me for the rest of my life.

“I know.”

“I can’t be here, Y/S/N.” I slump down in the old seat, thinking back to the first date we had when she picked me up outside the restaurant. I giggled and gushed about him all the way home and she sat there, driving, and smiling quietly.

“I know.”

My gaze moves to her and, like she can feel it, she looks back over at me. I guess she can see the look in my eyes. She can see the broken, desperate, lost little girl who fell too quickly into love and just as quickly out of love.

“I can figure something out, Y/N. I’ll take you to the airport and we can go from there, okay?”

“Do you have any clothes I can change into?” I mumble, avoiding her eyes by searching her backseat.

I find some jeans and a baggy sweatshirt one of her ex-boyfriends left behind by the time we make it to the airport. I enter the bathroom without a word, wiping off the three layers of makeup I have on before exiting to her getting off the phone.

“I just emailed your ticket to you. Let me know when you land.” She pulls me into a tight hug and I cling onto her dress, crumpling the fabric in my fists and holding on for dear life.

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” I murmur, relaxing my eyelids which I absentmindedly clenched.

“I love you, Y/N. Be safe.”

“I love you too.”

I watch longingly as she walks out of the airport and back to her car. This is my last chance- I could hop back in her car, race back to the hotel and change hurriedly just in time to make it to marry the man who I’ve claimed to love for the last year.

I could commit to a marriage like I promised I would five months ago. I could go on our honeymoon to Greece and relax on a beach like he wanted, I could have two kids and stay at home with them like he wanted, I could spend the rest of my life in the suburbs of Toronto like he wanted.

But I find myself walking up to the check-in desk, numbly showing them the ticket on the email my sister sent me. And I find myself boarding the flight to God-knows-where. My eyes focus on the wing of the plane as they make their announcements and I catch the familiar word “Vancouver.”

So Vancouver’s my next destination. He will never suspect Vancouver, hell I would never have expected Vancouver. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe it’s a good thing, maybe it’s time for a fresh start in a new location all the way across the country.

Maybe it’s time to focus on myself.

I step off the plane, unsure of what I’m looking for, or more likely, who I’m looking for. What’s in Vancouver that my sister wanted to send me here? “Y/N!”

I turn in the direction of the voice, raising my eyebrows in surprise at the familiar face.

“Hi Holly,” I greet her quietly, pulling her into a hug. I haven’t seen Holly since high school ended and the curling team her and my sister came to a stop.

“You remember Bo, right?” She questions, motioning to the tall man beside her who I’ve met a couple of times at various parties and events.

I nod. “Hi, Bo.”

Holly sits in the backseat with me on the ride back to their house, holding my hand like I might fall apart at any moment. Which I just might. It hasn’t hit me just yet that I ditched my fiancé at the alter and I feel like it will at any moment- not to mention the fact that I don’t know what’s going to come next.

I’m a pull away from falling apart at the seams.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks after showing me the guest room I’ll be staying in. I shake my head and she leaves without another word.

Her and Bo appear at the doorway for the next couple of days, showering me with food and comments like “I’m here if you want to talk” but mostly leave me alone to lay in bed and think.

I’m grateful for it. I want to gather my thoughts before anything else. I approach things with a plan and logic, and not only leaving the person I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with but also leaving behind my home has my mind in a craze.

The door opens softly and feet pad against the floor, along with the rolling of wheels. “Your sister was able to swing by your place and grab most of your things.”

My bones scream at me as I turn around slowly, sitting up straight in bed to see Holly setting two suitcases against the wall. She tries her best to mask her surprise at my movement, but I still see it.

“He ruined Ed Sheeran for me.” She sits on the edge of the bed, fearing that if she moves too close, I’ll clamp up like I’ve been doing since I got here. “He said that his songs raised expectations for women, and it wasn’t a good thing. Women should have low expectations for all men so then they would be happy with what they got.”

I wipe the snot from my nose.

“And he ruined pink roses for me. When he saw me admiring them, he said that roses were such an overrated flower. They symbolize romance and love and romance is dead and love isn’t real.”

I rest my head in my palms, sobbing softly. Holly rests a gentle hand on my forearm. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to let me know that she’s there.

“And fuck, he did all of this, Holly, he put me down, he made fun of my interests, he told me that my job wasn’t important, but I still loved him!” I’m yelling by the end of it but I can’t stop. “I thought I loved him so much. I thought I loved him with my entire heart, my entire being, my whole soul, but I was just trying to do that. I was just trying to be good enough to be a part of his world.”

I allow her to pull me into her arms and I cry on her shoulder. She knows that I’ve already realized that I’m enough. She knows that I realized that I’m too good for him, that he’s the problem and I’m not. She knows that she doesn’t need to tell me that.

But she does anyway.

“Do I look too nerdy?” I question, nervously tugging at the sleeves on the dress.

“You never look nerdy,” Holly reassures me, looking up from the vegetables she’s cutting. Bo nods in agreement, sending me a kind smile.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Bo questions as I step further in the kitchen.

“I don’t know,” I admit, making the couple laugh. “I’m just nervous to meet your teammates and their partners. I mean, they probably don’t think too highly of me considering I’ve been living in your place rent-free for two weeks. And I arrived with just a couple hours of notice.” I shake my head at my own actions. “Can I do something? I need to do something with my hands, do you want me to cut those vegetables?”

“Y/N, you are fine,” Holly giggles. “If it makes you feel better, there are some dishes in the sink that you can wash.”

“Oh, thank god,” I sigh in relief, rushing over to the sink like it’s my life source.

“And don’t feel bad about staying here. They understand, we’ve all been through rough times,” Bo emphasizes. I just smile at him.

His teammates arrive slowly, and I introduce myself kindly to everyone, wanting to present a good impression since I’m also representing Bo and Holly in a way. Then he walks in. Enchanting blue eyes that are pulling me closer, blond hair that begs to have my fingers run through it, plump lips that cheer for me to press my own against them.

It takes me aback. I haven’t felt this way since the first time I saw him.

And, if I look closely enough, he looks like him in a way.

I scurry away with one last look, taking a large sip of my water and ignoring the look that Bo gives me. He walked in on a late-night breakdown last week, so he knows the look I get before it happens.

“Excuse me,” I murmur, rushing down the hall to the bathroom. Everything is too loud, everything is too fast, everything is too overwhelming. I raise one hand to press against my racing heart, staring myself down in the mirror to bring myself back to Earth.

Ground yourself, Y/N, ground yourself.

There’s a knock on the door. “Y/N? Are you okay in there?”

“I’m fine,” I lie, biting my lip. My shaky hands open the door and I step out, Bo waiting politely outside the door. “I’m fine.”

He nods, obviously not buying my lie, but guiding me down the hall with a gentle hand on my back. “Oh, have you met Elias and Quinn yet? Guys, this is Y/N.”

And now I’m face-to-face with him. I try my best to just look at him quickly and give a small smile, barely noticing the one on his face.

“How are you?” Quinn asks.

How am I supposed to answer this when I have no air in my lungs? I’m taking too long, now all three of these guys are giving me an expectant look and I seem rude for taking so long to answer-“Fine,” I squeak out, “Um, you?”

“Good.” Quinn gives me an odd look. I don’t look at Elias.

“How are you, Petey?” Bo asks his younger teammate.

“Fine.” I see the shrug of his shoulders.

“I saw on your Instagram that you got up to some grilling last night,” Bo responds.

They all laugh and as Elias begins to answer, I excuse myself from the group and rush to grab another drink.

I hide in my room when Elias leaves so that I don’t have to say goodbye.

“Hi Elias, great game,” Holly compliments when she sees the young player leave the locker room.

He stops in front of us and my eyes stay glued to the picture on the wall next to me, heart thumping so loud that I’m positive they can hear it.

He mumbles something in response and Holly continues, “Y/N really liked your goal.”

She hits my arm and I make a noise, looking up at Elias with wide eyes. His eyes are much bluer than I remember them to be. They hide so many secrets and memories and stories that I could watch them for hours and not be bored.

The corners of his lips turn up in a smile and my gaze snaps back to the photo, biting my bottom lip hard and hoping the blush on my neck doesn’t travel to my cheeks.

I half-heartedly listen to the rest of their conversation, only turning to meet Holly’s eyes when Elias has turned the corner.

“Bo said you had a weird vibe with him,” she teases.

I roll my eyes, leaning back against the wall with a huff. “I don’t have a weird vibe with him.”

She laughs. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

It’s later that night that she peaks her head into the guestroom I’m still staying in. “It’s okay to move on, you know that, right? It’s been a month. And it’s been even longer since you’ve loved him.”

“You realize that since Elias is helping you move into this apartment, you’re going to have to talk to him, right?” Holly teases as she pulls the plates out of the box.

“You can just put those in the dishwasher to be washed right away,” I inform her, ignoring her words.

“What? Why?”

“Do you really think I’m just going to eat off of plates without washing them first? I don’t know who’s touched them,” I scrunch my nose up in disgust at the thought.

“Hello, hello,” someone chants out as the front door to my new apartment is opened. My eyes catch blue eyes first and I quickly divert from them, smiling at the three boys who enter my new apartment. “Sorry Y/N, only Elias and Brock could make it.”

“That’s okay,” I say quietly, “Thank you for the help.”

I hear Elias’ Swedish accent over Brock’s response but pretend to ignore it, busying myself by pushing a picture of my sister and I into a picture frame.

“Are you excited to be moving into your own place after living with these two lovebirds for two months?” Brock jokes, nudging his captain.

I giggle but nod, not trusting my voice just yet in front of Elias.

“Where do you want us to start?” Bo inquires. I direct the boys to their various tasks, avoiding the Swede’s gaze as I tell him his.

I sigh in frustration, the Christmas lights I’m trying to hang on my bedroom wall getting tangled as I hang them up slowly.

“Do you want help with that?” The familiar accent questions from the doorway of the small bedroom.

“No, I’m good,” I respond, not even sending a quick smile over my shoulder. He doesn’t listen. Feet pad closer to my bed until he’s climbing on it beside me, tugging the wire apart from itself gently and stretching his arms to make sure it won’t tangle again.

I try my best to ignore his presence as I work slowly to put the cable against the plain wall but it’s hard to do when his eyes are glued to the side of my face. As we’re turning the corner to move onto the next wall, my gaze catches his.

His cheeks are rosy, probably from all of the work around my apartment that he’s been doing, and there’s a cut on his cheek that I didn’t notice earlier. It looks like it hurt and I feel my heart jump at the thought of him in pain.

“What happened to your face?” I murmur out, my volume barely loud enough to be heard.

“I cut it while shaving.”

I try to keep the soft smile to myself, but I think that he still saw it.

I couldn’t believe it then when he was sliding the engagement ring onto my finger. It not only covered my ring finger, but also overlapped onto part of my pinky and middle finger. I threw a hand over my mouth, gasping about how much I loved it.

But I didn’t love it then and I sure as hell don’t love it now.

A knock on my door has me shoving the ring back into my bedside table, opening the front door.

My heart drops at the sight of the young blond on the other side. I haven’t seen Elias since he helped me move into this apartment a week ago, and I honestly thought I would have a longer amount of time to avoid him and form a plan on how to stay away from him.

But I guess I don’t get that.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Bo said you needed help with your Wi-Fi but he’s too busy with Gus to come over himself,” he explains. “So he sent me instead.”

I nod wordlessly, stepping inside to let him into my apartment. I watch as he takes off his sneakers, setting them side by side by my front door.

I lead him into the living room where the Wi-Fi box is, motioning towards the device.

“Have you tried unplugging it and plugging it back in?” He inquires, moving closer to it and hence, me.

My heart rate picks up at the feeling of Elias towering over me, and something I have enough knowledge to nod.

“We could just try that again?”

“Okay.”

I watch his calloused hand pull the wire out, eyes meeting my own as he explained, “We can wait for it to cool down and then plug it back in.”

I nod dumbly, stepping back like it’ll get me out of this unknown power that Elias has over me.

I feel his eyes studying me as I look around my apartment like it’s the first time I’ve been here. I feel him staring at my hair, my nose, my eyes, my lips.

“Do you not like me?”

His question has my eyes snapping back towards him.

“W-What?” I stutter.

“Do you not like me?” He repeats himself.

“Um, I, I-“”Or are you just scared of me?” He asks.

“Elias-“”Holly and Bo haven’t told us a lot about you, they said it’s your business and when you feel like telling us you will. They told us that you’ve been through a lot so if I make you uncomfortable, I’d just like to know,” he states.

God is he sweet. This shows me how much respect me has for me by not wanting to push information out of me and being aware of my boundaries. I judged him too fast, I know that. But he just made me so anxious and now, now he still makes me anxious but in a different way.

In a good way, if anxiety can be used in a good way.

“Elias I need to show you something.” He follows me as I head back to my bedroom, pulling the prize of a ring out of the drawer.

I set it in his hand and watch as his eyes widen, a “Wow” slipping out of his lips.

“I was engaged before I came to Vancouver,” I confess, nervously running a hand through my hair. “And I thought it was love but looking back on it- it wasn’t love. It was me being used as a trophy and him being used as a placeholder in my heart that’s never been completely filled. And, I’m really sorry for how I reacted, but you kind of looked like him in the right lighting but more than that- I felt for you what I felt for him in the beginning. I want to kiss you, and I want to hug you, and I want to go on cute dates to buy chocolate with you and- god- I wanted to do that with him in the beginning to but to be truthful, these feelings are lasting much longer with you than they did with him-“”So you felt that, too?”

I stop the pacing that I hadn’t even realized I’d begun to do, pausing to look at the slight smirk on his face.

“What?”

“The heart racing, the lasting glances, the desire to be near each other, you felt that too?” He inquires.

I nod slowly, watching as he sets the engagement ring back in the drawer and closes it. It’s like closing a chapter that’s been dragging on. I’m ready to move on.

And I get that chance to move on when Elias stands up to his full height, looking like his awkward self as he just stands there. But the lights from those Christmas lights he helped me hang up bounces across his face and hair and body in just the right places and I imagine him in the bed beside me as we wake up in the morning.

It’s something I want more than anything.

“Elias,” I speak softly, “Are you going to kiss me?”

He takes a small step forward but I’m too impatient to wait. My fingers grip his T-shirt as our lips connect. It feels like we’ve waited our whole lives to kiss yet we know we have the rest of our lives to continue kissing.

I totally forgot that I had music playing until “Thinking Out Loud” begins to play through my speaker. It makes me melt into the man holding me and we sway along to the song, enjoying each other’s company and the moment itself.

The next morning, I get a delivery at my front door.

Pink roses.

And a note.

Don’t forget to plug the Wi-Fi box back in. XO, Elias

[artificialqueens]

like a virgin. (jackie/nicky) — roza

a seven part story where each chapter details a different relationship with jackie based solely on the song correlated to their individual madonna rusical verses.

[ summary ] : nicky is convinced jackie needs to let loose and have some fun after all the years they've spent working together in the fashion industry. 

[ verse two: like a virgin ]

[ author's note ] : the second part of this series! I didn't want to skip this verse because I love jackie too much and the song is iconic. I also needed nothing but an excuse to add my favourite and og season 12 pairing into this series!tumblr is @leljaaa and thank you meg for being a wonderful beta!

— *.✧

"Can you pass me that please?"

Nicky turned and nodded, passing Jackie the fabric scissors that were right in front of the French woman's desk. The Persian held up the black tulle fabric and grinned, pulling the blonde next to her body as she began to wrap some of the fabric around her body.

"Is this some kind of intervention?" Nicky laughed gently before Jackie shook her head, marking out her shoulders with a fabric marker before gently pulling off the fabric from her body.

"I'm trying to make you a dress for Friday," the marker still in her mouth as she spoke firmly. The blonde gasped as she sighed, completely forgetting about the stupid movie premiere that Nicky had been invited to while they were back home in Paris.

The fabric was already spread out on the table behind them as Jackie snipped away, occasionally looking at the drawing she had made for a point of reference.

"It will look beautiful as always," Nicky began as her arms snaked around to hug Jackie from behind, holding her waist and letting her head stay buried in the crook of the Persian's neck. "I shouldn't be surprised, that's why you're my favourite assistant and designer."

Jackie had met the French woman two years ago for an internship during her time at design school. The entire goal of it was to simply come and snoop around Nicky's fashion brand, maybe get a word in from the expert herself or learn some new design processes.

Instead what happened was the Canadian dropping out of her school in Toronto and immediately moving to Paris the second Nicky offered her an exclusive job as her personal assistant and designer.

The blonde had been beyond impressed with the designs and worth ethic Jackie had shown her during her short stay in France. She felt it was only necessary to try and keep her as long as possible.

Paid salary and housing included of course.

Despite their personalities almost always contrasting, Jackie quickly became her favourite friend and person.

The two grew close with Jackie's entire job being to design and assist her on every and any matter that came up.

She would see Nicky sob at her desk.

She would get to hear her spill all about her toxic family.

She saw first-hand her dumping her socialite boyfriend in favour of coming out to the French public.

Most importantly: she got to see Nicky beyond the rich, beautiful, dull Parisian facade. Every.wall she had built up from years and years of pressure in the limelight and in the media came crashing down the minute Jackie earned her trust.

"Well it's my job," the Persian finally mumbled under her breath as she looked at the fabric, beginning to write down the shoulder lengths having memorized Nicky's measurements already in her head.

"You hired me to be here with you so the least I can do is make you a fancy dress."

"You're so sweet baby," Nicky hummed as she let go of her waist and gently hopped up on to the marble table, her eyes only watching Jackie cut out fabric and begin to meticulously outline her patterns. "It's a beautiful concept."

One date.

All the hours every day spent together and added up still weren't enough or either of them to gain enough confidence to ask each other out on an actual date. The day Nicky asked she saw the discomfort and anxiety in Jackie's face and immediately dropped the idea, suggesting they instead go wine tasting together.

How French of me. Nicky thought.

There were the occasional shoulder brushes or even the more than occasional, almost constant kisses. Their lips pressed to each other for minutes on end as their hands would interlock before Jackie pushed her away, feeling her stomach churn and fear arise again when they kissed for too long.

She had found out from listening to her talk to her best friend back home in Canada that the fear was more internalized and had nothing to with Nicky's publicity or her status.

"I'm not ready for this ," had become Jackie's most used phrase since she began working side by side with Nicky. They left it alone for a week before the kissing began again and two decided internally that the best thing to do was never bring it up and never act on the feelings any further.

"Your birthday is Friday!"

Jackie chuckled, taking a minute to glance up at Nicky with a soft smile painted across her lips. "It is but I don't need any more parties please," the Persian begged as Nicky groaned the minute she heard the words leave her mouth.

"Nicky no!"

The fashion designer whined like a lost puppy, holding on to her arm for a brief moment before letting her eyes stare into Jackie's, her fingertips gently brushing aside all the loose strands of hair near her ear.

"You're no fun Jacqueline," she teased in a whisper as she drew out her birth name with a huff. The blonde smirked as she grabbed Jackie by her waist and leaned into her lips, "If we celebrated alone and after that stupid movie? Just the two of us?"

The Persian bit her bottom lip, it was beyond difficult to resist any question that came from Nicky's mouth and it was even harder to resist the urge to not kiss her right now, just throw away the project and focus every bit of attention on Nicky.

"If you promise me there won't be anyone else but us then of course I'll spend my day off with you."

"I'm keeping you to it."

— *.✧

The dress was perfect.

It was far too perfect and clean for an event this subdued.

Nicky by far looked the best as she always did. She smiled for every single camera as she felt the flash of the camera's coming constantly from bombardment of paparazzi as she walked down the carpet in her off the shoulder, gathered tulle dress custom made by Jackie, of course.

I just want to be with Jackie…

She stared down at the details of the ruffled chiffon hem that lined the entire dress as her mind was only focusing on thoughts about Jackie and how awful she felt knowing she deserved to finally give one day of full attention to the Persian girl.

Especially on her birthday.

I could just skip this event entirely… no one would dare to even stop me.

The minute she walked down the carpet she took a steep turn to the right, trying to run as fast as she could with heels on as well as an entire train of fabric piled behind her.

Somehow she made it through to the parking lot without even so much as a stare in her direction, managing to make it into her car as she thanked her personal driver. She typed out Jackie's address for him to see as she mentioned that she had to stop at a flower shop.

Red roses. Only red roses.

There were an assortment of looks as she approached the door, a few teenagers crowded around her and begged for photos which Nicky couldn't possibly refuse before she stepped in the small flower shop and begged for as many red roses as possible.

The total only came out to about thirty euros but Nicky only had a two hundred euro bill.

She shrugged as she handed it over, the owner at first refused to take her money but the French woman truly had no time to waste arguing about money she had to waste so she threw the bill in the small tip jar and said goodbye.

Racing outside once again, she found the car parked just a few steps away from the shop as she hopped in and could officially relax against the car's leather seats.

Ten minutes and Nicky was dropped outside of the familiar apartment as she took the dozens upon dozens of red roses in her hand. She managed to enter the pin before sighing heavily.

Nicky realized that going to Jackie's complex with a bundle of red roses in one hand and a flowing, tulle dress probably wasn't a smart idea when you had to walk up three flights of stairs.

She threw her heels off as she began to power walk her way up the steps with a determination to make it to Jackie's cute apartment and surprise her with an abundance of roses.

She buzzed the brass doorbell in front of her as she wiped off the sweat that built in her forehead, immediately smiling seeing Jackie both impressed and confused at the same time.

Nicky was pulled inside as Jackie turned up the fans, clearly seeing that the French woman had either run her entire way here or frantically ran up the steps.

"Are these for me?"

The Persian breathless as Nicky nodded, handing over the entire massive bouquet with a wink as she explained that she researched and found that Iran's national flower was the red rose.

"Nicky," she muttered breathless as Nicky kissed her hands with a smile, Jackie placing the flowers on her kitchen counter as she took the French woman in her arms. The two of them swung side to side as the radio blasted throughout the living room and kitchen area.

"I'm significantly underdressed," she whispered against her skin as Nicky giggled happy to simply be in the dress, admitting that she skipped the event and just ran off after the carpet and photography was finished.

"You skipped the event for me?"

"Of course I did Jackie," the blonde grinned ear to ear seeing the flush across the Persian's cheeks growing darker and darker.

"Was my dress that ugly?" She joked before Nicky cackled, snorting for a brief moment as she buried her head once more in the crook of her neck with a deep sigh.

"It was beautiful, it's one of my favourite dresses I've ever worn and I will absolutely wear it again."

"What an honour."

The two of them sat on her couch, eating bundles of Tiramisu and drinking far too much white wine for their own good as they ended up an hour later just a bit tipsy with their hands interwoven.

"Happy birthday my love," Nicky whispered as her hand softly slid down Jackie's cheek. The blonde pressed a kiss to her forehead as the Persian gnawed at the inside of her cheeks before admitting that she got the only birthday present she wanted.

"Really? Did someone actually do something better than my roses?"

Jackie snickered, rolling her eyes as she ran her fingers through Nicky's hair with a smile admitting that the only thing she truly wished for was to have the French woman near her.

"I'm near you all the time, we work together," she laughed quietly before she saw the blush forming across Jackie's cheeks.

"I need you Nicky."

The blonde blinked confused for a solid ten seconds before feeling Jackie tighten the grip of their hands as she noticed the Persian nodding at her last comment.

"Oh," she gasped. "Oh," She repeated with a wide smile forming across her lips, Jackie was undeniably trying to come through with the offer without saying the actual words.

"You want to have sex with me?"

Nicky laughed aloud seeing the Persian groan the minute she said the sentence, the blonde lifting her chin with her fingertips. "I want you as well Jackie," she whispered as she winked at the Persian who leaned into her lips with a worried breath.

"I am always ready when you would like to," Nicky muttered against her lips as they seperated, Jackie standing up as she held out a hand for the French woman to take.

She did.

There was no use shutting her door but Jackie thought it was intimate and it clearly served a good use as Nicky almost immediately pinned her up against her own bedroom with a chuckle seeing the Persian yelp.

Their lips pressed against one another as the blonde kept her hand's above Jackie's head, the two of them interlocking fingers as Nicky pressed her lips against her neck hearing the Persian immediately start to get anxious.

"You okay?" The question was genuine and soft as the Persian nodded, embarrassed to admit that she'd just had never done any of this before with a woman.

She felt Jackie's heart beat as if it was her very first time, which with a woman it certainly was.

"We don't have to if you're uncomfortable you know, I love kissing you just as much."

"I want to, I promise," Jackie gently managed to choke out as she left a kiss on her shoulder, the dark red lipstick she had on still lingering and leaving a small print on her bare skin.

There was nothing but silence as her hand gently slipped under the fabric, both of them watching Nicky's dress fall to the floor swiftly as she immediately kicked it across to the other side of the bedroom.

"Beautiful dress," Jackie teased with a chuckle as she saw Nicky kick her custom dress across like it was nothing. The Parisian scoffed, melting into another kiss as she admitted that the dress was not currently needed.

"I'll be yours till the end of time," she hummed feeling nothing but their hearts beating in sync with one another as they laid across the bed.

"Take me away."

[wroughtironrailings10]

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[bensbuttercup]

A Little Too Much (S.M.)

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

Word Count: 8,229

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, spanking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “But your mu-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Barely so-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shawn I’m fine,” she cut him off. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?” He asked quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[belovasangel]

All That is Evil

Summary: You were taught to fear yourself, not what’s following you.

Pairing: Demon!Shawn x (fem)Reader

Warning: Swearing, blood, mention of pills, mentions of violence, mentions of death, mad angst

From the age of one to twenty-one, you knew something was wrong with you. Whether it began when you scraped your knee at four, or got hit in the face with a baseball at twelve, you noticed something weird, and it wasn’t normal.

Firstly, you heard a laugh. It wasn’t anything recognizable, like a family member or friend, it sounded different. Darker. Sinister. You learned that word at six, as it was the most accurate word to describe the internal fear you felt every time you got hurt. Like someone watching a comedy, and the punchline came. Literally.

Second, you bled black. People said it was just darker blood, a higher iron content, doctors said. It made sense when it was just a small paper cut or even a nosebleed, but it didn’t add up when you gave blood at the school’s blood drive at sixteen. The whole bag was blacker than the skinny jeans your best friend wore. You never forgot the fear radiating throughout the room once the nurse lifted the vessel of black.

The third thing that felt wrong was the shadows. Reflections. A sign of someone behind you, which didn’t become apparent until a family member pointed out the second shadow you had. It happened in the summertime, around the time for evening, and it was brushed off as a weird sunlight. However, it transformed into more, when you took showers and afterwards looking into the fogged mirror to see a blurred figure behind you. Again, the trick of an eye or soap, because when you blinked it went away. 

It didn’t make sense to anyone. Doctors and psychologists were beyond shocked. They preformed CAT scans, blood tests, even isolation and electrotherapy to find a cure. However, it left you more rattled, scared, and hooked onto a cocktail of pills for insanity.

By the age of eighteen, you had taken enough pills for the entire city of Toronto to survive upon. You gave up, cutting off the supply of chemicals and let your mind free. After all the time you spent fearing yourself, it was time to give into the corrupted visions you were taught to ignore. Even on the pills, you heard a laugh, felt the tight chest, seen ink pour from your veins and watched a second figure follow you along the city streets.

You had an apartment in the middle of Toronto complete with a dog, and beautiful plants. Somehow, you grabbed the fifteenth floor suite and it was safe to say you’ve never made a better purchase. It became the only place you felt normal, even if you saw double on sunny days. However, you felt chills on the hottest days, and now that you were alone with your pit bull, Sebastian, things were even wilder then before. Items were moved around, clock times were off by hours, and Sebastian always barked at the same corner of your bedroom. 

It didn’t make sense, not much did, but you learned not to question the minor inconvenienced you’d experience daily. Yet, you adapted and worked with the hand you were dealt with. All is fine in love and war. 

You were content with the light chaos, where afterwards you counted your blessings, but none were enough when you turned around to see him. A man stood behind you, clad in black pants and boots with a grey button down and a bird tattoo. In a way, he felt familiar. Like you’ve passed each other on the street, or even in the elevator on the way to your room. Yet, it wasn’t the sight of him that was a memory. It was the shooting pain in your chest. Sinister.

His brow was furrowed, posture strong and jaw set. You had to look beyond his harsh stance and the bile on your tongue to open your mouth. He held up a finger, silencing your words. “I’m Shawn. Don’t ask how I got in here because I’m getting you out.”

He, Shawn, walked towards your bedroom and opened the door, striding to the closet and stepping in. You blinked a few times, letting the tight knot in your chest release before you protested. “Hey, hey! Get the fuck out of my apartment, who the hell do you think you are? How did you get in here? Stop- Stop touching my clothing you freak!” Running behind him, you grabbed his arm.

Within a blink, Shawn had you pinned to the wall, his bird tattoo clad against your throat. Tears quickly formed in your eyes, choking out coughs and pleas for your life. He chuckled. “Your fear is delicious, my love.” Shawn said as he leaned in to your hair, sucking in a deep breath. “However, we need to go, and I’m done with these foolish games.”

A final squeeze and he was off of your cowering body, turning around to ignore your body crumpling over. Shawn zipped up the overnight bag he packed himself and began walking towards the door. You stood upright, coughing into your elbow while wiping tears. He motioned to the door, tapping his foot.

“I’m not going unless you tell me where and why.” Shawn let out a groan, taking quick strides. “You need to trust me, my love. I’m here to protect you. Trust me and I will keep you safe.” You scoffed.

“Then, what the hell was that, moron? If you wanted to sneak in and steal my stuff, fine. Get out. I’m not going with you.” Shawn shook his head, his brows furrowing tighter. As he opened his mouth, there was a light knock at your door. You began walking to the door, yet Shawn caught your arm. “Let go.”

He pulled you to the bedroom once again, covering your mouth tightly and closing the door behind you. “Listen, we need to leave right now.” You shook your head, reaching for the door once again. “Tell me what the fuck is going on, Shawn. Why should I trust you? Who are you? Where are you taking me?”

Shawn turned towards the door, ear pressed to hear the newly formed commotion in the living room and kitchen area. You held your breath, watching Shawn run to the window and open the glass. He turned quickly, grabbing your shoulders and forcing you to sit on the ledge. Shawn kept your face to him, not wanting you to watch the next event to occur.

The bedroom door whipped opened, you let out a scream. Looking to Shawn, he gave you the first smile since meeting him. “I’m taking you to Hell.” And with a quick shove, you fell back. 

You’d always imagined death to be beautiful, like a celebration of your happiest times and memories. A farewell to the life you’d been blessed with, and onto a newer and more exciting adventure. It was a mystery as to what life was like after your time was up. However, now you knew.

It was a plush, king sized bed with red satin sheets in a room surrounded by black, grey and white. The floors were marbled, the walls were a solid tone of grey, and the bed frame was engraved with patterns so intricate it would take days to finish the detailing. 

You sat up in the beautifully soft sheets, fingers grabbing at the material thick in your fingers. Letting out a yawn, you stretched your sore arms. Peering around once more. The room was bare and lacking personality, yet you wondered why there was no memoirs or items of sentimental value. As your feet touched the surprisingly warm marble, the door opened.

Shawn.

He walked in, a cut on his forehead and bruises along his jaw and lip. You gasped, the fear diving into your chest like a blade. He caught your shocked expression, sucking in a deep breath with a smile. “Good morning, my love. I see you slept well.” Shawn walked beyond your frame, and opened the newly discovered bathroom door to clean up. 

With hesitance, you stood and followed him in, marveling at the stunning black and white features along the room. “What happened, can you please explain to me where I am?” Shawn held a white towel to his forehead, watching the blood seep into the fabric. It was black. 

“You’re in Hell, my love. You died.”

Scoffing, you pushed off the doorframe and walked into the bathroom fully, standing tall next to Shawn. “Shut the fuck up, tell me where I really am.” Shawn let out a giggle, looking over his shoulder with a smirk. “Is that really how you should be talking to your King? After all, I saved your life.”

You looked directly into the mirror, panic beginning to seep further into your bones. Shawn stood up tall, walking behind you in the mirror, focused on your confused facial expression. “Don’t you remember seeing me after those long nights, where you’d use those pretty little bath bombs? Or hearing my laugh when you’d burn yourself on the stove. How careless.”

Tears flooded your eyes. “Stop.” Shawn placed his bruised and swollen hands on your shoulders, connecting his eyes with yours. “What about all those sunny days on the sidewalk, or how you saw me move in your peripherals?”

“Stop it, Shawn.”

“I’ve always been here, by your side. Waiting for the right moment to bring you home. I couldn’t stand those bastards hurting your precious mind. Stopping what was rightfully mine. But, now you’re here with me, my love. And we can make them pay. Wouldn’t you like that?”

You sobbed into your hand, slowly falling to the ground of the bathroom floor, collapsing in on yourself. “You were meant to rule alongside me, you were born for the crown. I brought you here. I saved you! I killed those angels, ripped their wings feather by feather! Isn’t that enough?”

Looking beyond your tears, Shawn was standing above you, a small frown on his cheeks. “I-I need time.” He nodded, heading for the door. “Wait, Shawn?” He turned on his heel, bruises already beginning to fade lightly into greens and yellow. “Where’s Sebastian?”

Shawn clicked his tongue, then suddenly jerked forwards. “Oh, yes! Of course. I left him there, in your apartment. You’ll see him soon, in about a month, give or take a few weeks. However long it takes for... Okay, I’ll let you be.”

He left the bedroom, leaving you to quiet sobs in the new place you would soon call home. 

[rabbitcruiser]

Toronto City Hall (No. 2)

The Toronto City Hall, or New City Hall, is the seat of the municipal government of Toronto,  and one of the city's most distinctive landmarks. Designed by Finnish architect Viljo Revell (with Heikki Castrén, Bengt Lundsten, and Seppo Valjus) and landscape architect Richard Strong, and engineered by Hannskarl Bandel, the building opened in 1965. It was built to replace Old City Hall, which had housed city offices since 1899.The current city hall, located at Nathan Phillips Square, is the city's fourth and was built to replace its predecessor which the city outgrew shortly after its completion. 

While the building's base is rectangular, its two towers are curved in cross-section and rise to differing heights. The east tower is 27 storeys (99.5 metres (326 ft)) tall and the west tower is 20 storeys (79.4 metres (260 ft)). Between the towers is the saucer-like council chamber, and the overall arrangement is somewhat like two hands cradling the chamber. The outer surfaces of the curve are covered with concrete bearing a rib pattern that provides strength and prevents collapse of the fabric as a result of the expansion of the exterior surfaces, and the tearing apart of the fabric as a result of differences in air pressure on the two sides of each wing-like tower during the high winds characteristic of the Great Lakes. The north, west, and east elevations are more abstract and sculptural in contrast with the extensive glazing of south elevation facing the square; each presents a view of concave panels of concrete textured with split-faced strips of Botticino marble. To the east of the square is Old City Hall which currently serves as a courthouse. From the air, the building is seen as a giant unblinking eye, thus the building's original nickname of "The Eye of Government". When finished, the building generated widespread controversy among many who felt that it was "too futuristic" for the city. 

The design for the public space in front of the new city hall, Nathan Phillips Square, was part of the competition. The square's reflecting pool and concrete arches, fountain, and overhead walkways were thus also part of Revell's submission. It has since seen several monuments, sculptures, and other works of public art added, and was renovated, but it continues to complement the city hall with its original Modernist design elements.

Source: Wikipedia

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[lilacshawn-blog]

So Far Gone

synopsis: you meet shawn through tom then he proceeds to talk you down but you’re just as feisty as he is.

1.5k words of ~hOpEFully~ good n merry content [ here's other content as well ]

You straighten the tight white dress you wore after watching Clueless and realizing that you should wear the article of clothing more often. It was a mistake. Your thighs and the fabric were slightly sticking together from all the warm sweat accumulating caused by the humid apartment packed with people.

“Y/N, c'mere and have another drink!” Tom yells from the kitchen situated on the other side of the crowded apartment.

It was Tom's birthday party and you could never pass up anything he invites you to. You could have a sprained ankle and he can still convince you to come. Currently, you are honestly unaware of how many tequila shots you've downed since you got there but you've been saying 3 since then.

It's 12:30 now and you've talked to more people than you have in your entire life mainly because all of them where pretty chatty and drunk, rambling aimlessly and disappearing after a minute or so.

You catch a glimpse of Shawn Mendes, who's having a conversation with Tom as of the moment. They were by the marble counter in the kitchen, pouring drinks and chatting simultaneously.

The two of you haven't met yet but you kinda wish you would tonight—or maybe it's just the alcohol that sparks a false sense of confidence in you.

“Who's the pretty girl?” Shawn asks his friend, vaguely pointing your direction discreetly.

“White dress?” Tom asks, eyebrows raising briefly.

“Oh, alright, so you agree that she's pretty, eh?” he teases, smiling to himself. He adjusts his polo, pulling it down to expose more of his skin.

“Well, she is. I mean, she's really great. I met her way back... like 2–3 years, I think.”

“Damn man. You're late 3 years then on not telling me about her, sheesh,” he replies, getting lost in your movements and the way you steal a few quick glances his way.

“Go talk to her,“ he says, playfully pushing him forward. “Oh, by the way, her name's Y/N.”

“Fuck man, not too loud!” he screams back, embarrassed of you hearing that he'd been talking about you to Tom. The numerous beers he drank earlier are now hitting him and it's not a cute sight with him fumbling around the flat.

He quickly unbuttons the fourth button on his polo, adorned with pink flamingos, as he nears the girl he had his eyes on since the night began.

Patiently tapping his leather boot-clad foot on the wooden flooring a few inches away from you, he waits for your conversation with his friend's girlfriend to die off.

But he couldn't wait. A good 30 seconds had passed and he just had to hear your voice. He taps your shoulder two times, lost in the way your hair falls to the side as you turn your head to face him. You mumble a soft 'excuse me' to end your former chat, followed by a 'see you around' to close it off.

“May I help you?”

Fuck. Your voice is as hot as he expected—well, maybe a little deeper but dear god was it better.

Taking a moment to bring himself back to life, he stutters, “I'm Shawn,” looking like a damn fool in front of the prettiest girl in the room.

“I know who you are,” you laugh, giving him a name he could call you by.

He says your name again to himself and you couldn't help but blush at how he says it. With your name rolling off his tongue and how his lips move slowly to make sure he pronounced it correctly, you were surely as lost in him as he is with you. The only difference being you mastering the art of keeping a straight face, leaving him completely clueless to what you're thinking.

“You're very beautiful, not being creepy.”

“Oh wow, why thank you,” you blush, shifting your weight to your left. You wish you had another drink so you could sip forever and avoid conversation. “You're not so bad yourself,” you add, noticing his dark chocolate curls that bounce ever-so-slightly with every movement.

“How come we haven't met before? You knew Tom way back, right?”

“Damn, how'd you know that? Been talking about me, eh?” you tease. You specifically made sure that you squint your eyes slightly and tip your head to the side a bit just to push some of his buttons.

“Hmm, yeah, I was. How could I not? With you burning your eyes through me a few times, I gotta know your name in case you start a fire 'round here,” he smirks, diverting his gaze.

“Wow, I'm that hot, huh?”

“No, 'cause you look like someone to commit arson,” he jokes, laughing before taking a sip from his cup.

“You'd be my first victim,” you joke back.

“Because I'm the only person here who's hotter than you and you don't like competition?”

“No, 'cause I fucking hate you.”

“Shit, feisty, eh?”

You hated him. He knew how to play it well and he was getting you good—not that you're complaining or anything. And with that good sense of humour? Two can play this game and you're not someone who loses.

Moving your hair to side, you expose your neck briefly, seeing him make a quick glance, giving you a sense of satisfaction. You start walking away from him to fetch another drink, hips swaying softly, hoping he'd come after you. You reach the kitchen and look for a bottle of beer inside the oak cabinets.

“I got it,” he speaks up as you bend over and reach your hand down to grab the bottle below the counter. He slides his hand down your back, stopping just below the small of it before pushing you to the side. He grabs two bottles, opening one and handing it to you.

”Thanks, but I could very well do it myself,” you mumble, letting him hold you and lead you towards the balcony.

“Yeah, but I wouldn't want you bending over like that any longer,” he whispers, his back leaning against the metal railing.

“Couldn't handle it?” you tease, mimicking his position but with your body facing the opposite way.

You take a moment to just appreciate the view, with all the tiny orbs of light decorating the skyline and the stars dotting across the dark sky. You face him briefly, finding some kind of reaction.

“Toronto's beautiful,” you spark up a chat once again, taking a sip of your drink and observing his features. You couldn't help but observe every curve of his face, noticing little freckles on his neck as well.

“Nah,” he says back, tucking a twirl of hair behind your ear. “You are,” he adds.

You laugh in response, unable to construct something witty to say back. “Really?”

“Yes, I'm dead serious,” he says, looking at you in the eye, and inching forward. “Hot too, if I may add—god, bending over for me and shit.”

“Ugh—cut the shit, man,” you reply, sick of the little flirt game you had going on. “Okay, you got me 'ight. I've completely fallen for you tonight so stop talking me down like that.”

“Too far?” he now sounds concerned, moving his drink to his right hand to scratch the back of his neck with his left.

“No!” you voice rises, leaning forward towards him. “Just stop sweet talking. You got me already—god, just—talk to me,” you persist, looking into his eyes, that reflected the lights from the party.

“Okay, um—”

“Tell me about what you love to do, or your family, what music you listen to, or just you,“ you ramble on, looking up and inhaling deeply.

You were so gone. Searching his eyes for depth—anything—something. You were sure as hell that there was something beyond his cocky aura, a soft side perhaps.

And so his composure broke. The night falling deeper as you both share stories from your childhood, forgetting about maybe scoring a one night stand with someone from the party.

It's all a blur; one drink turning into four. His features were softer and gloomier now, making you check the time. 2 AM. You look around, scanning your eyes through the sheer glass of the vast apartment and seeing less people since the last time you checked. Tom passed out on the couch, while Brian roamed around the TV, struggling to find the button that turns the device on.

“Wanna come back to my place?” Shawn suggests, tapping his thumb on the back of your hand whilst he holds it tighter.

You didn't seem to notice that at some point throughout the night, he managed to hold your hand without your protest.

“After all that talking, you're still looking to get into my pants, huh?” you reply, trying to hide the fact that his words slightly offended you.

Fuck. Can't believe you fell for it—his little act—looking like he's trying to get to you know better but he's just looking for a hook-up.

He shakes his head and adjusts his posture, dismissing your suspicion. “No, no. I just—You need to rest 'cause you look so fucking tired and I want to see you tomorrow and have breakfast with you so, you know, we could talk more about our favorite movies.”

He's definitely got you good.

[lnfours]

vanilla ; shawn mendes

let’s try a shawn fic, eh?

→ word count: 1411

→ warnings: smut, fluff towards the end.

→ masterlist

she smiled as she walked down the hallway, holding the keys to her condo in one hand as she held a warm coffee cup in the other, her heels clicking against the cold tile floor, almost as cold as the weather outside.

she slid the key into the door before turning it to the left side, making the lock move. she opened the door before taking out the key, shoving them back into her hands. she walked to her kitchen, placing the silver items on the counter with a soft clang against the marble countertop. 

she walked back to her large size bedroom, taking her heels off as she entered the closet. she stripped of her work clothes before slipping on a pair of pajama shorts and a gray hoodie; specifically, his hoodie. she knew it was his. it smelled of his expensive cologne and it was a brand only he could make look good. 

her small footsteps traveled against the hardwood floors, making it back to the living room before plopping onto the couch. she took her phone from the sweatshirt pocket, scrolling through social media. once she got bored of the same old things showing up in her timelines, she reached over for the tv remote, turning on the rather large television that was mounted against the wall. 

taking a blanket and covering herself with it, she looked out the large windows that sat next to her. she took in all that the city of Toronto had to offer to her; amazing views, the lights, the people. everything. she was born a city girl. 

there was a knock at her door a few moments later, bringing her up to her feet. she stood on her tippy toes, peeking through the peephole, seeing his tall, muscular figure standing right in front of her door. she gave a small smile before opening the door, greeting him.

“hey.” she said and he smiled back at her.

“hey.” he said as she stepped aside, letting him into her home. she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck as his found her waist. she smiled up at him, happy to finally be in his arms after a long day at work.

“why didn’t you text me to say you were coming over? i could’ve picked dinner up on my way home.” she said, grabbing his hand and making him follow her to the couch, where she sat straddling his lap, hands in his hair as his hands moved up and down her sides comfortingly. 

“well, my plan was to surprise you, but that didn’t go too well, now did it?” he asked and she let a small giggle escape her lipstick stained lips before pressing them onto his soft ones. he tasted of sweet vanilla, something she never could get over.

“i see you’re modeling my clothes.” he joked and she smiled up at him, her eyes giving off a subtle twinkle; the same one he’s seemed noticed whenever she was happy.

“you’re the one who left it here.” she said and he shook his head, chuckling. he pressed his lips to hers once more, kissing her with love and passion. his hands found her face as he cupped her cheeks. her hands found his neck, playing with the small, soft, brown curls he had. 

“i think we should take this somewhere else, don’t you?” he asked, eyes gleaming into hers. she bit her bottom lip for a second, only making him want to take her even harder. 

she nodded, smiling, before releasing her lip,”we’ve gotta lower it down though, i think the neighbors hate me because of how loud we are.” 

he let out a chuckle before scooping her up into his large arms, making her giggle,”baby girl, there is no quiet with me.” 

she rolled her eyes playfully as he carried her back to her bedroom, placing her down softly onto the mattress. she watched as he climbed overtop of her before he kissed her slowly and lovingly. she kissed him back, just as much. she tangled her fingers in his hair as his mouth slowly slipped away from her lips and finding her neck. she let out a soft moan as he had found the sensitive spot of her skin, sucking harshly, leaving a purple bruise, before blowing cold air onto it, sending more chills down her spine.

“you’re so, so beautiful, y/n. god, how did i get so lucky to have you in my life, darling?”

she smiled as he let his hands run up her sweatshirt, fingers dancing along her skin before slipping the fabric off of her body. he kissed at the new areas of skin exposed to him, leaving trails of wet kisses and hickies as he did so. he buried his face into her braless chest, kissing and nipping at the skin there before she let out a moan. he smirked to himself, but she felt him do so.

“don’t smirk at me, mendes.” she said and he let out a throaty laugh before hooking his fingers into the waist band of her shorts and panties. she felt him tug them down as he kissed at her collarbone. 

once the clothes hit the floor, she flipped them so that she was now the one in control. she kissed his lips, slipping her hands under his shirt, feeling his well kept six pack. he let out a moan as she cupped him through his black skinny jeans. her lips grazed at his neck, leaving purple bruises that he would for sure have to figure out a way to cover. she tugged his shirt over this head, tossing it to the floor. 

he tried to flip them so that he could be the one on top, but she stopped him by pinning his arms to his sides. he let out a groan. 

“not yet, baby.” she said, working on undoing his belt. once she got it unhooked, she tugged it off of his jeans before tossing it behind her head. his hands were all over her skin, leaving marks. she brought her lips back to his, kissing him sweetly. he gently slipped his tongue in his mouth, letting them mould together. he bit down on her lip softly as she pulled the zipper down on his jeans, tugging them down his thighs and kicking them to the floor. he let out a throaty moan as she had positioned herself on top of him. he bucked his hips, trying to create friction, but she held him down. 

“hey, hey, hey.” she whispered softly into his ear,”i’m the one in control tonight, okay?”

he nodded his head after a few seconds, she let out a small smile. her hands traveled down his body, rubbing his abs and letting her fingertips tickle his skin. she reached the waistband of his boxers, making him let out a whine. she knew he was becoming impatient, so she tugged the thin material down, finally giving him a release. 

she went to wrap her hands around his dick, but he grabbed her hands before she could.

“no, i just-i need you now.” he panted and she looked down at him, sweat dripping down his forehead, making the brown curls stick to it. she nodded, grabbing his face and kissing his lips. she moved so that she was straddling over him and she let her fingers trail down his body, making him groan. 

he dug his fingertips into her hips as she slowly rocked her body against him, making him moan out in pleasure. she let her fingers find his hair, gripping tightly as the friction between the two of them made her insides scream. she nibbled at his neck, trying to keep herself contained. 

“baby girl,” he moaned out,”i’m so close.”

she smiled in the crook of his neck, pulling away from the skin on his neck to kiss his lips. he let out a throaty moan.

“go ahead, baby.” she said, running her hands down his arms soothingly. he let out a moan as he came undone, her shortly after him, both of them finally relieved. she sat up from on top of him, collapsing into his arms as he held her close to his body.

“i love you.” he mumbled against her bare skin. she smiled as she felt her heart warm, the love she had for this boy growing intensely. 

“i love you more.” she said, running her hands through his hair. 

tagged @potterhead1265 @tmrhollandkay @behxndthemask (for those of you tagged, i’m sorry it’s not tom/peter but i hope you all still enjoy!) 💞

[architectnews]

Drew Mandel Architects overhauls and expands historic Toronto home

A shingle-clad addition is meant to mimic the scale and massing of a 1920s landmarked home, revamped by Canadian studio Drew Mandel Architects.

The project, House on Bracondale Hill, is named after its location in Toronto's Bracondale Hill neighbourhood – one of the city's earliest garden suburbs.

House on Bracondale Hill is located in Toronto

The project entailed the renovation and expansion of a Georgian Revival-style house dating to 1924. The clients, a family of five, desired a brighter and more spacious home that accommodated a contemporary lifestyle.

Because the brick building is listed on the city's historic register, its entrance facade had to be preserved.

The dwelling has a pitched roof

Local firm Drew Mandel Architects conceived a plan to retain the facade while adding a multi-storey wing that respectfully merges with the original home.

"The addition fills in the missing tooth of the street – formerly the side yard – on this anomalous double-lot and echoes the scale and massing of the existing structure," the architect said.

The house has light interiors

Clad in grey-brown clay shingles, the extension has apertures of varying sizes and a pitched roof.

Emerging from the roof are rectangular dormer windows in both the front and rear, with the front one drawing a connection to an eyebrow dormer on the original home.

Several modifications were made to the existing dwelling.

On the building's backside, the team added two boxy dormer windows, along with a glazed enclosure at the ground level. Tall, sliding doors lead to a new concrete terrace that steps down toward a swimming pool.

The house's sculptural staircase is a central design feature

The team also fully redesigned the interior, including the creation of a white, sculptural staircase made of bendable plywood, known as wiggle board. Once installed, the stair enclosure was plastered, sanded and painted.

The residence, which now totals 484 square metres, offers ample space for the family.

White oak cabinetry features in the kitchen

The public areas are found on the ground level, where the team placed an open-plan living room and dining area, a kitchen with a breakfast nook, a family room and a garage.

The first floor encompasses three bedrooms, a lounge, an office and a double-height main suite. The top level holds guest quarters and a lounge.

A basketball court is included in the basement

The dwelling also has a sizeable basement with a basketball court, recreation room, hobby room and bedroom.

Interior finishes include white oak cabinetry, a quartzite-topped kitchen island, and terrazzo and wooden flooring. In a powder room, pink-hued marble was used to form a wash basin designed by the architect, with a solid wood base fabricated by the client.

Pink-hued marble is used in the bathroom

"Modern interventions celebrate the existing heritage features and add new but familiar materiality, colour and texture," the team said.

Sustainability was a guiding concern for the project. The team incorporated a greywater re-circulation system, in-floor heating, a green roof and a rain-barrel water management system. Original bricks that were removed during construction were reused in certain areas of the home.

The house is situated in a leafy neighbourhood

The team also took great care to retain the big, leafy trees on the site.

"The wide but shallow depth of the house allows all existing, mature trees to be maintained and also provides generous access to natural light," the team said.

Outside, a concrete terrace leads to a swimming pool

Drew Mandel Architects was established in 2004. Other projects by the Toronto firm include the Cedarvale Ravine House, which has grey stone walls and an overhanging top story, and the Moore Park Residence, which is designed to sit sensitively among its 1920s neighbours.

Photographs are by Doublespace Photography and Drew Mandel Architects.

Project credits:

Architect: Drew Mandel Architects Team: Drew Mandel, Jowenne Poon, Aleksandra Popovska Construction: MDK Construction Ltd Consultants: Blackwell Structural Engineers, Air Treatment Climate Care

The post Drew Mandel Architects overhauls and expands historic Toronto home appeared first on Dezeen.

[aspenbritz]

CHOOSING THE BEST GRANITE COUNTERTOPS FOR YOUR KITCHEN

One of the top choices for renovating a kitchen is installing a new countertop. There are many countertops that you can choose from. You can choose from granite countertops, quartz countertops, Silestone and Caesarstone. There are also some alternative eco-friendly products that are manufactured from post-consumer materials. Although you must keep in mind that eco-friendly countertops are mostly expensive but you can go with granite which is a natural stone and one of the most cost-effective solutions for hard surface countertops plus, they are low in maintenance.

 Granite countertops are one of the things that can make your kitchen look elegant and it can also add value to our property. Granites are also a premium choice for homeowners and commercial establishments in and around GTA. Granite stones are admired because of their natural beauty and style. It is highly resistant to damage and known for its long-lasting quality.

 If you are considering granite countertops, your first consideration must be the color of the countertop because it should blend in with your kitchen cabinet, your kitchen floor or other home appliances, unless you will be renovating your entire kitchen. The color that you will choose must blend well and not make anything look out of place. It will be advisable to choose a lighter color that will lighten up your kitchen and will make your kitchen look spacious and big.

 Another deciding factor when choosing your granite countertops is the price, which of course will depend on the quality and the pattern of the countertop. Before going out, determine the budget that you will be spending on this project. Concentrate on the granite countertops that will be within your price margin. Take your time to compare prices from different stores. Different stores can offer very competitive prices for quality countertops. Go for the one that offers the best deal that will be able to save you money without sacrificing the quality of your countertop.

 If you have decided to go for granite countertops, you can make a list of the things that you want for your granite countertop. Choose what color you want, what designs you want to be incorporated or the style you want to see on your new countertop. Then you need to find a reliable source or start searching for a professional countertop fabricator in your area. There are many professional contractors that can offer you granite countertops in Toronto or even a marble slab in Toronto. Installation of granite countertops in Markham or granite countertops in Scarborough or granite in the GTA is also possible.

 Now in finding your granite countertop fabricator, you need to know certain things about them to be sure that you are going to hire the right one for you and your kitchen. Generally, a good countertop fabricator consistently provides a quality product and excellent service. You can check their history of service through their website or better yet visit their company showroom. You will be able to see samples of their work, and what other services and products they could offer you for your kitchen.