đ§ that was not how I was expecting that conversation to go! Crazy how well you write the tension, I could feel it.
Can I please be tagged in future updates, @particulataste ? đ
Authors Note: I kinda struggled writing this chapter, I knew what wanted to happen but it was just so short I struggled to make it lengthy. Anyways, weâre still on that one-update-a-week role Iâm so proud.
Summary: Shawnâs settling in and Lola canât seem to keep her mouth shut, even if she only means well.
Warnings: slight smut; oral (male receiving), swearing.
Word Count: 2,262
Heâs sweating.
Thereâs dirty oil smothering his bulging biceps and his short sleeves have been rolled up, sitting on his shoulders. His hair is a mess, slicked back with gel and sweat but the girl in the sunflower dress thinks he looks like sex.
Heâs meant to be working, refitting an engine, to be exact. He isnât, though. Instead, heâs chatting up Corina, his bossâ niece and if it isnât for Mackey working across the garage, heâd have her bent over the table with that pretty little dress hiked up her waist as he pounded into her pussy.
Sheâs perfect, he thinks. Gorgeous skin, innocent eyes that he knows will be the death of him, and the most mind-blowing hourglass figure that he can even make out beneath her loose fitted dress. He can only imagine how juicy those tits must be.
He doesnât bother trying to hide his clear arousal toward the young woman, and if anything, he makes it clear as day when Mackey looks over and the tall boy is pressing himself against her, a taunting smirk on his lips as he whispers something filthy in her ear.
Mackey shakes his head and clears his throat, supposes he should probably help a brother out. âYo, Shawn,â he calls out, watching as Shawn looks over Corinaâs shoulder to see him. âGo take your break. I got it down here.â
He doesnât bother hiding his grin as he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her into the building, giggles slipping past her lips when he guides her into the bathroom.
Heâs shoving her against the door, lips hot on her neck and she sighs out in sweet relief. Her skin tastes like strawberries and Shawn canât get enough, swears itâll be the death of him. She tugs on his slicked-back curls, knows theyâre gonna be untamable, but at this moment, he canât seem to care.
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This was heart wrenching but so good, @rulerofnocountry đâșïž
a/n: ahahah why the FUCK did i write this. do i hate myself? maybe. wow. some smut mention. mega angst. cussinâ. the usual.
song: Lany ft Julia Michaels - Okay
The setting sun casts pretty golden shadows through the apartment as lights beginning to twinkle outside in the impending dusk. She can see out to the East River, the Bridge, into Manhattanâs sparkle. Itâs a sight that she never thought sheâd tire of, an illuminating promise. Filled with all the hopes and dreams and luck of every soul in the city. Magical, once upon a time. Breathtaking, romanticâŠÂ
That view was one of the reasons sheâd settled on this apartment in the first place, despite the location, and everything else about it, being way outside of her budget. It was a lavish home, much more apartment than she could ever need on her own⊠and far more than sheâd ever hoped to have in her life. But, at the time⊠it hadnât been her decision alone.
Now, she sits on her couch, doing exactly what she told herself she wouldnât do. Sheâs holding her breath, staring at the clock on the side table, watching with a sick sinking in her stomach as the time clicks 7:59pm to 8:00pm.
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Iâm a little more protective of my heart now. Not because I donât love you anymore, but because I used to love you more before.
Oh, in another place
I lost my best friend. Iâm a mess every day year on the anniversary. When people ask me if I could have one thing, it is still - and I think always will be - to be able to speak to him one more time.
This broke my heart in all the best ways - itâs written so well and deserves everyone to read it â€ïž
prompt 106 with ghost!Shawn đ»
106. Iâm right here. Iâve been here all along, but you still canât see me
âââââââ-
June 27th was no longer an ordinary day marked off of your calendar. It hadnât been one for three years, actually. It was an anniversary, one that wasnât celebrated by cake, or balloons, or gifts. Three years without your best friend, yet it only seemed to get harder with time.
You tried not to grieve as much as you used to, but the minute the clock struck midnight, every June 27th since that fateful night, you couldnât help but break all the strength youâve mustered up over the years.
âI hope youâre enjoying yourself up there.â You muttered, clutching his pink hoodie, one of the many that his parents gave to you, insisting that he wouldâve wanted you to have them because you always had a thing for wearing them.
You sobbed into the fabric, slight whiffs of his cologne still treaded in the fabrics. You had no idea how they managed to still smell like him, but you hoped that it never had to change. âI miss you so much.â You croak, not sure if itâs possible that he can hear you or not, but hoping that your words somehow reach the other side.
You pulled out the dusty photo albulm from underneath your bed. You used to go through it religiously, constantly adding new photos of the two of you and your adventures. Now it was just too hard for you to do. In every photo, heâs smiling wide, eyes are bright and full of life, youâre both so happy, enjoying your lives together.
You smile to yourself, recalling so many amazing memories that the two of you shared, but it still sent a crippling pain through your heart. âIâm going to make sure my future kids know all about their uncle Shawn.â You whispered, wiping a tear slipping down your cheek.
You eventually fell asleep with the photo album laying over your chest, his hoodie being used as a blanket. You woke up around four, noticing that you left your light on and the photo album out. You sat up, closing the album and slipping it back underneath the bed. You made your way to the bathroom, Shawnâs hoodie clutched to your chest like a baby and its favorite blanket.
You took a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, puffy eyes, sunken cheeks, brittle hair, June 27th. It never fails. You turned on the sink, leaning down to splash your face with some water, and just as the cool liquid is splattering against your skin, you hear a low whisper from behind you. âMiss youâ
You shoot back up, eyes snapping on the mirror, nothing at all around you to have made any kind of noise. You look around, brows knitting as you clutch Shawnâs hoodie. You think you might me going crazy, maybe you just need sleep. Maybe you miss Shawn so much that you think youâre hearing his voice. Either way, you excuse it, cutting the water off and making your way back to the bed.
You climb back up, wrapping the blankets around you, cutting out the bedside lamp. You clutch his hoodie, nose dug into the fabric in an attempt to still feel like heâs with you. Just as your eyes flutter shut and your mind slowly slips into dreamland, you hear that low whisper again. âGoodnight. I love you.â
You shoot back up, cutting on your lamp and scanning the room. You feel like your body is rushing with adrenaline, as if you need to be on full defense, but the feeling in the room tells you that thereâs no need to be afraid. âShawn?â You whisper, feeling crazy for even calling for him but you know you werenât just hearing things in your head.
âShawn? Are you here?â You ask, slipping out from under the covers, feet dangling above the floor. You donât hear anything else. Donât see anything. But you can feel the shift in the atmosphere. Youâre not alone, and you know that.
âWhere are you? Can I- can I see you?â You ask, slightly afraid. Youâre not sure how you would take seeing him again, knowing you canât run up and hug him anymore. You listen, you wait, begging for him to respond to you.
âShawn?â You call again, tears edging your eyes and slipping down your puffy cheeks. âIâm right here.â You hear, low, soft, barely audible but loudly heard. âIâve been here all along. But you still canât see me.â
âWhy? Why canât I see you?â You whisper shout, hands shaking even though youâre not scared at all. âYouâre not ready.â You hear, sounding as if his voice is fading out. âI have to go.â He fades away, leaving you in tears, begging for him to stay.
âNo! Please donât leave me!â You plead. You rise from the bed, slowly feeling the dense atmosphere return to normal, and just when you think heâs gone, and you collapse down on the floor with your head in your hands, you hear his voice again, barely audibly, hardly even heard this time. âIâll never leave you.â
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS đđŒđ
Authors Note: so, despite missing a post last week, weâre back to weekly updates! Lots of fluff and some real protective!shawn. Also, huge thanks to @alittletoomuchshawn for helping me with some maaajor parts!
Summary: Shawn canât seem to keep his fists to himself and one punch turns into five and what better way to be punished than for his dad to be his number one cockblocker.
Word Count: 2,407
Shawnâs never been one to get nervous. Never had the experience of sweaty palms and frantic butterflies in his stomach, or a dazed head and blushed cheeks. But all at once heâs experiencing them when her lips meet his. His mind is in a frenzy, body still as a rock and he can physically hear his heartbeat in his ears. He moves quickly, though. He cups her pretty little face in the palms of his hands and his eyes gently flutter closed. Heâs losing himself in it, in her.
Her lips are sweet⊠plump and soft and Shawn canât believe heâs kissing her. Lola threads her dainty fingers through his Godlike curls and gives them a generous little tug. Heâs seeing stars, his lips are tingling. Lola subtly slides her warm tongue between his lips, the sudden boldness catching Shawn off guard and he pants slightly into her mouth. She tastes like cherries with a hint of peppermint and Shawn finds himself completely mesmerised by it.
Shawnâs hand sneaks its way to the back of her neck, slim fingers twirling her auburn locks and tugging ever so gently, but it only makes her more eager. Sheâs shifting to the very edge of the bed, fingernails scratching at the nape of his neck and he lets out a soft groan against her lips.
Lola pulls away, panting with what Shawn can only guess to be a dizzy smile and she purses her lips to bite back a soft laugh. âIâm sorry⊠I shouldnât have done that, Iâm sorry.â She giggles through her embarrassment and Shawn can feel the heat that rises to her cheeks.
He clears his throat, his forehead resting on hers and he nibbles on his bottom lip, savouring the taste of her thatâs varnished him. âNo, itâs⊠itâs okay.â He tries to assure her, though thereâs a thick silence that sits on them as they continue to lean into each other. Shawn doesnât know what the fuck heâs doing. This isnât like him, he doesnât do this kind of shit. But itâs her, itâs Lola and Shawn doesnât want to pull away. He doesnât want to feel the coldness of her body not being close enough.
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i love healthy communication and tight hugs and soft kisses