Your OTP comes home after a very long drive. Person A is wide awake, but Person B is extremely exhausted and falls asleep in a very uncomfortable spot. Person A wants to carry them to bed, but there’s a problem: B is really tall and REALLY heavy, and A is very weak.
“Tony,” Natasha says with a sympathetic smile. “He’s got you absolutely whipped.”
“I resent that phrase.” Tony quips lightly, as sweat rolls off his body. “And I am not-“ he sets down the bench press, “-whipped.”
Nat raises her eyebrows, casting her gaze across the gym. “So, you’re telling me that this extra working-out isn’t for Peter?”
“Peter loves my body just the way it is, thank you very much.”
“Then why are you in the gym?”
“What if I’m just trying to get healthy? I have a new 22 year old ballerina boyfriend, maybe I’m just inspired.”
Natasha frowns at him, her gaze dragging over his figure, before shaking her head. “Nope, sorry, don’t buy it. The Tony I know loves scotch and cigars. Tell me the truth.” She turns to look menacingly at the boxing ring. “Don’t make me beat it out of you.”
Tony sighs, collapsing in a heap on one of the benches. “I’m trying to work off a little pent up energy.”
He winces. “No, not stress exactly. Just- look, it doesn’t matter, it’s-“
He feels the warm presence of Natasha by his side, and can feel her expectant glare boring into the side of his head, so he sighs and lets it out: “Pete thinks we should wait to have sex, and I agree, so I’m just- I haven’t had sex in a while…”
There’s silence for a beat, before Natasha bursts into fits of laughter and Tony rolls his eyes. He’s a goddamn 45 year old man and-
“I take it back. You’re worse than whipped- oh my god, he’s got you right around his finger- I have to give him credit!“ She screams between fits of laughter. “The Tony Stark- sex god, and you’ve been dating for like three months!”
“We’re taking it slow,” he scolds lightly, “besides, Peter’s different. If he- I want to wait.”
She softens a little at that. “Well, that’s good. He’s sweet. And beautiful.”
Tony groans. “He is beautiful. I need to do another set of sit ups.”
Natasha laughs. “I’ll spot you.”
*** “And what’s really beautiful about this sequence is that those two dancers are doing the exact same dance- but Miguel is doing it in reverse, as a reflection on their characters,” Peter murmurs, snuggled up against his boyfriend on the couch.
Tony hums. The dance is pretty, sure. But he’s only really interested when he’s watching Peter on stage. Besides, it’s hard to focus when his boyfriend is pressed up against him smelling of strawberries and the chocolate cake he had for dessert.
Peter peaks up at him through his tumbling locks, face so close that Tony can’t help but lean down and kiss him gently. Peter smiles against him, before pulling back. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?” He asks innocently, and Tony wraps his arm around the boy’s slender waist and noses at his temple.
“It’s fine, sweetheart. I mean, I don’t have a thousand dollar bet on the ballet.”
Peter giggles, before reaching for the remote. “You don’t have to watch this stuff for me, Tony,” he says sweetly, and Tony’s heart bursts with fondness. “We’re a team. We should do stuff we both like.”
Tony grits his teeth a little. There are lots of things he’d like to do with Peter. One specifically. His hand on Peter’s waist catches a little sliver of skin from where his t-shirt has ridden up, and Tony just wants to drag the boy onto his lap and ravish him and-
“Baby, listen, there was something I wanted to talk to you about,”
Peter looks up brightly, wetting his soft plush lips. “What’s up?”
How best to do it? He can’t think of tactful way- and besides, actions speak louder than words- so he cups Peter’s face in his hands and kisses him.
Peter makes a pleased sound of surprise, and before long Tony has him pressed into the couch, one hand snaking up his shirt and the other curled firmly around his waist. Peter’s hands are tangled in his hair, and he’s moving his hips in a way that should be illegal when-
“Wait, Tony,” he breathes, lips red and cheeks flushed-
Tony peppers kisses up his throat. He’s painfully hard already- it’s been so long since-
“Tony,” Peter says again, and he pecks Tony’s nose with a sweet little kiss. Tony bites back a groan. How can this boy be so Disneyesque? Like a little princess, but at the same time he’s so flexible and- “Tony,” he whispers again, and his hands are on Tony’s belt and Tony feels his brain fry a little. “I know we said we wanted to wait, but- I- I want you,”
He can’t hold back his smile, and lets his teeth graze over Peter’s pulse point- already thinking about hoisting him up and carrying him to the bedroom when-
“That’s why you need to make the decision,’ he finishes, and Tony frowns.
He pulls back a little in confusion. “Wait, what?”
Peter half sits up, sweet and trusting, “if you think we’re ready, Tony, I trust you. If you think our relationship should get stronger first- I’m with you too. I just can’t be impartial anymore.” He leans up to nuzzle Tony’s scruff. “You’re too sexy.”
“Well, hell, Pete,” Tony mutters, flushed warm all over by the compliment, and awed by the trust. “I can’t- have you seen you? I can’t- I want it too and…”
Peter blinks up at him, adoring and sweet and-
“Fuck,” Tony sighs, pulling away. Because Peter is different. And Tony doesn’t do relationships- he dates models and actors and singers, the occasional porn star, but Peter is- Peter- “We should wait.” He decides, even as his cock calls him a traitor.
Peter beams, “we can make pancakes and then you can show me who you bet on!”
Well, eating chocolate covered pancakes and watching the Lakers win with Peter in his lap isn’t as good as sex- it’s a very, very close second.
Imagine person A of your OTP overly dramatically and passionately singing Gabriella’s part in ‘I Gotta Go My Own Way’ from High School Musical to themselves in their bedroom. They think they’re alone, until person B comes in with equally as much passion on Troy’s part, scaring person A half to death.
Person A means to send a message to Person B saying “I love your hair” but accidentally sends “I love you”. It turns out Person B loves them back. Not wanting to break the latter’s heart, Person A asks them out. They date for six months before Person A realizes they’ve fallen head over heels for Person B.
a/n: surprise :) literally wrote this out of pure boredom. Enjoy!
Warning: smut ahead, pls don’t read if you don’t feel comfortable xx
Shawn’s head pops up from between your legs, smiling with swollen lips and extremely flushed cheeks. He’s been going down on you for about ten minutes and it was all so new to you. No ones ever offered to do it and you were usually the only one to do it. You’re both panting heavily and he keeps checking up on you to make sure you’re handling everything well.
“How does that feel?” He asks, caressing your inner thigh with his thumb, sending goosebumps down your legs.
“R-Really good” you say between breaths, you’re biting your lip and he goes back between you. Lapping you up and getting off just from the pure sound of pleasure in your voice.
“Shawn, please..” you moan and plead. God, just the way you say his name could easily push him over the edge. His eyes darken and he quickens his pace, his tongue digging and digging like his life depended on it. You grip his chocolate curls because you felt you needed to brace yourself on impact. He stops with his tongue and entered his middle and index all the way into you, taking you by surprise. “Holy shit” you gasp, looking down at the smirking man between you. He’s so pleased with this side of you, how easily you could come undone right in the palm of his hands, literally. You both knew what you were really thinking about every time you pointed out how much bigger his hands were than yours.
He starts a come here motion with his fingers and you were silent, letting go of his hair and gripping the blue sheets under you. You could feel yourself building up more and more with every pull.
“Fucking shit.. oh my god. I’m gonna-“ you gasp. Shawn immediately removing his fingers and reaching up to stick his fingers in your mouth. You angrily take them, tasting yourself on his fingers.
“You don’t get to come until I’m inside you honey, not yet” you nod, sucking his fingers as he slowly slips them out. You’d get back at him later for the orgasm denial.
You guys never really went all the way in your relationship, you guys would go as far as foreplay but you were always afraid you weren’t good enough. Shawn’s been with plenty of women and it’s something you thought about a lot. Neither of you were virgins, no, but he was a lot more experienced than you. You hadn’t had sex in nearly a year and tonight when you told him you wanted to take that step he was already plotting to make you cum more than twice. The orgasm denial was just a part of the process, he wanted to give you the best orgasm of your life.
Shawn crawls up, hovering over you, kissing you so sweetly you could melt.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” He asks. You nod, biting your lip. Taking your free hand and tucking it under the pillow behind you, taking the condom under it out for him.
“You were prepared?” He asks. You smile in unison, you’d been so nervous about sex with Shawn for far too long but you were determined to do it eventually. Now just seemed right.
He rips the foil open and slides the condom on with ease.
“I’ll go slow, just tell me if you want to stop okay?” you nod nervously, you pull him so that your noses nuzzled together, massaging his scalp.
“I want this..I want all of you.. just be gentle, please” you kiss him once more as he slowly pushes himself inside you. His eyes never breaking contact with you when he gasps, your foreheads press together and he shuts his eyes. You bite your lip, the old feeling of small pain from stretching coming back to you, causing you to wince.
“Shawn,” you breathe, and he immediately comes to a halt.
“You okay love?” He looks at you, you don’t respond. The pleasure goes into your head and all you can do is roll your eyes back, your chin tilting upward to give Shawn more access to your neck, because neck kisses were your weakness. You wrap your legs around his abdomen, and he smirks. He doesn’t need an answer from you, so he starts to move.
“Shawn, oh my god, you’re so good” you moan in his ear, your hands traveling up and down his back. His ego became quite a lot and so he picked up his speed, sliding in and out of you with what seemed like no effort.
“So fucking tight, baby” he grunts, leaning up to look down at the mess he was currently making of you.
“My pretty girl,” his hand caresses your face as he rams you over and over.
“Faster, plea- Shawn!” you yelp, unable to finish your sentence because he slammed into you repeatedly at the his fastest pace. You missed this feeling, being in complete ecstasy caused by Shawn, the foreplay always brought you to orgasm but this was a whole new feeling with him.
“You’re gorgeous, honey” he kisses you, and you moan against his mouth.
“Baby I’m gonna come for you, I’m gonna come for you, I’m gonna-“ he stops ramming you, flipping over so that you’re on top of him, the sudden movement made your hair flip to the front of your face. You laugh, flipping it back over to get a look at the curly haired, sweaty man underneath you. He takes your hips, moving you back and forth.
“Ride me babe,” how eyes go black, and so you do. The slight friction of his skin on your clit sends you back to the point of orgasm in a matter of seconds.
“Shawn, I’m about to come!” You whimper, he pulls you down, pressing your chest to his and thrusting into you. He braces you by holding you around your back, his legs lifting you up as he still slams into you.
“Come for me my love,” he whispers, stroking your hair and kissing the sweet spot on your neck. Your breathing hitched as your orgasm suddenly overtakes you
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, I’m coming baby, I’m coming for you” you’re panting, breathing like you ran three miles in five minutes. You come undone on top of him, your legs trembling as he refuses to cease his thrusts into you. Tears stream down your face, the pleasure was so much to come down from, and you were convinced you were having the best orgasm of your life.
“I’m gonna come-“ he whispers. He grunts one last time before releasing himself into the condom inside of you. Your legs are still shaking and you’re still trying to catch your breath. You sigh as he pulls out of you, taking the condom off and tying it off, tossing it into the bin.
“Honey, calm down” he hold your nude body to him, still shaking from your orgasm. He kisses you sweetly, holding you close to him as he strokes your hair. He smiles, proud of the mess he’s made of you, not really expecting you to come so intensely the way you did.
“Breathe through it love,” he takes a slow breath with you, repeating the motions over again as you come down from your intense high.
“You’re beautiful,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, kissing you again.
“I love you, so damn much” you finally say, your shaking breath finally calming down.
“I love you most, y/n” he kissed your forehead and nuzzled you closer.
The two of you stayed in this position for the rest of the afternoon, eventually drifting off to sleep before another round of endless bliss.
Peter really wants to go to prom with teenage Tony but he is to afraid to ask. Word goes around school about how " funny and pathetic" it is. But when Tony hear the news, he thinks it's super cute, and he has always found Peter adorable. So Tony makes a grand gesture asking Peter to prom. Maybe some steamy making out afterwards. - xx
It’s short, but I hope you like it.
Warnings: bullying and homophobic slurs appear
“You’re staring, nerd,” MJ said as she sat down.
Peter blinked and turned her way. “I can’t help it sometimes…” he said. “Tony’s just so…”
“Ugh, your gay is showing,” She complained. Peter laughed. She always teased him, but he knew it was just in fun. She was just as gay - pining for Liz a bit more subtly.
“Ask him out already,” she insisted.
“Yeah, right,” Peter scoffed, “As if he’d even look at me…”
“Well, I’m asking Liz to prom,” MJ argued.
“Seriously?” Ned joined them with an excited smiled. “That’s awesome!”
“Yep,” she popped the p, “And Peter’s gonna ask Stark.”
“For real?” Ned asked. “Peter! That’s great!”
“It’s fucking gross.”
Peter glanced up at Flash who standing at the side of their lunch table, sneering down at them. “You’re such a faggot, Parker,” Flash snarled.
“Walk away, Dickbag,” MJ retorted.
Flash snorted at them, but walked away after muttering under his breath, “Fucking queers.”
“Don’t listen to him, Peter,” Ned said. Peter nodded and went back to his food.
He glanced over at Tony, who was talking with his own friends. Flash had approached their group though. “Oh no…” Peter mumbled. He watched in horror as Flash started talking and then pointing in his direction. MJ and Ned turned to look as well. Tony’s gaze met Peter’s and he began to panic. Then Tony turned back to Flash and laughed.
Peter got up from the table and sprinted out of the lunch room. He couldn’t take being humiliated like that anymore. Peter hid himself in science lab for the rest of the lunch period. Peter kept his head down when class started again and students came in.
He ignored them, not wanting to hear any whispers or see them staring. He just had to make it through the rest of the day. Peter kept his down from class to class. Finally it was time to go home.
And then Tony Stark was standing in front of his locker. Peter froze in the hallway. Tony smiled and waved at him. Peter glared and whipped around. He stomped back the way he came.
Tony ran after the younger student. “Where’s the fire, Petie pie?”
“Don’t call me that!” Peter grumbled, “Just leave me alone…”
“Hey, hey,” Tony said. He placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I’m not gonna do anything to you like that douchebag did.”
Peter stopped in the hall and retorted, “I saw you two laughing at me.”
“Did you see me punch him?” Tony asked.
Peter raised his head to look at Tony. “You punched him?”
Tony shrugged. “Yeah,” he said. “I hate jerks like Flash. So when he called you by that slur, I hit him.”
Peter tipped his head down again. He blushed hard. Maybe he should’ve stayed in the cafeteria. “He said you had a crush on me,” Tony said.
“Maybe…” Peter mumbled.
“Can I walk you back to your locker?” Tony asked. Peter nodded and went back to fetch his things. Tony followed him, whistling cheerfully. Peter gathered his homework and book bag. The two left the school together, Tony glaring at anyone who stared.
“Let me give you a ride home?” Tony asked. He pointed at his expensive car.
“Oh, you don’t have to…” Peter said, “I’ve forgiven you already.”
“Peter, I want to get to know you,” Tony said, “At least a little before we go to prom together.”
“W-What?” Peter squeaked.
“You wanted to ask me to prom, right?” Tony said, “So, yes I’d love to go with you.”
Peter stared up at him with those beautiful chocolate brown eyes. Tony nodded, grin spreading across face. Tony leaned down and kissed Peter’s cheek. The younger boy flushed, going red from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.
“Cute,” Tony said. “Can I kiss you again?”
Peter simply stepped forward, chin up and lips slightly pursed in anticipation.
Tony held Peter by his hips and kissed him. Peter moaned softly against his lips. Tony slipped his tongue in between Peter’s lips. Peter let him take the lead, kissing back as much as he could. Tony had done this before though, he was making Peter dizzy.
“Whoo!” Came a call from behind them, “Get some Parker!”
Peter pulled away from Tony and hid his face in the older boy’s shirt. Tony waved over at Peter’s friend MJ, who had whistled at them. He pet Peter’s hair. “Let’s continue this somewhere more private?” Tony asked.
Peter took Tony’s hand and they strolled over to his car.
a/n: have been really craving this type of sad!shawn fic, since there isn’t enough. I wrote one myself because I’m super impatient, love y’all! Enjoy :)
Warning: insinuated smut but mainly fluff :)
You walk out of your son’s room, exasperated. You didn’t know how to talk to him in a way that he’d listen, so you went to your husband for help.
Shawn sat on the backyard patio, editing bits of a guitar riff he’d been working on for another possible number one hit. The forty two year old was a total dilf if you’d ever seen one, he wore his age with an assertiveness that was yet so incredibly sexy with his vaguely salt and peppered hair. You bring your arms around his neck, kissing him behind his ear.
“Hi, honey” he kisses your cheek.
“I need help,” you press your cheek onto his, looking at the laptop screen with a bunch of sound waves and applications open that you never understood.
“Petey’s having a rough time at school, he doesn’t wanna talk to me about it, you think you can get through to him?” your nose presses into his sideburn, the huge diamond ring on your left hand blinding him.
“Yeah, I need a break anyway. I’ll go talk to him babe,” he rises from his seat, his muscular arms grabbing yours as he leans into a firm kiss on your lips, leaving you breathless. You swore it wasn’t babies giving you baby fever, but just the way he kissed you.
Shawn goes into the house, making his way down the hall to his son’s bedroom. Opening the door, he sees him angrily plucking away at the acoustic he had gotten for his sixteenth birthday.
Seventeen year old Peter Manuel Mendes stood at a whopping five feet and eleven inches tall, looking like an exact replica of his fathers at his age. His eyes were green though, and he had your nose. But his chocolate curls were too prominent, of course he was Shawn’s. He stands there for a second before saying anything, a rush of nostalgia going through him as he once was doing the same thing over twenty five years ago.
“Hey Dad,” he stops, setting the acoustic beside him.
“Peter, what’s wrong? Why wouldn’t you talk to mom?” He sits next to him on his bed.
“She wouldn’t understand what I’m going through,” he scratches his curls, adjusting himself so he was facing his father.
“Mind if I ask?”
“So, it’s prom season I guess-… there’s this girl in my anatomy class… she’s beautiful, I think I want to ask her” he spills into his father, Peter wasn’t the emotional type unless it came down to things like this. He got this from Shawn, and that half of him that was so stubborn and silent was from you. On the other hand, Peter walked with a confidence and a class that most of the girls in his class swooned over him. The partial reason beating because his father was Shawn Mendes and as I’ve said before, a total fucking dilf.
Peter played lacrosse and played track in high school. He started taking up guitar when he turned fourteen after seeing videos of dad when he was younger. He did sports as a hobby and didn’t plan on pursuing anything further into them after high school, music was what he really wanted to do. Although Shawn supported any decision he made, he was appreciative of the fact that his son was taking after him. He was naturally talented, but he had yet to test out his singing abilities.
“Who is she?” Shawn asks, leaning his back against the wall. His son blushed, picturing the girl in his class he could swear was an angel.
“Her name is Rosalie Williams, she’s a transfer student from Vancouver, she’s got brown hair and brown eyes and she’s got this killer-“
Shawn glares at his son, he knew better than to say anything objectifying about a woman’s body. He taught him well, knowing his mother would blame Shawn if Peter did anything stupid that way. So in reality, he taught Peter to be a man to cover his own ass for his old boyish ways.
“-…smile.” he finished, Shawn relaxed as if to say ‘good boy’
“How did you get mom to go out with you for the first time?” He asks. Shawn laughs, remembering how stubborn you were when you first got to know each other. It was at a pre-Grammy’s party that you had gotten invited to. One of your friends was a music producer and worked for Shawn’s label. She dragged you along because you had been so mopey around your apartment after breaking up with your boyfriend of two years. You met a plethora of celebrities that night, more than you’d ever seen in your life. She introduced you to Shawn and you immediately clicked with him.
By the end of the night, and by that I mean nearly three in the morning, you and Shawn were giggling and hanging off of each other, all completely sober. He asked for your number and you gave it to him, but when the time came around for him to ask you out formally, you kept putting it off. You kept telling yourself that the night of the Grammys you were just star struck and you didn’t actually want him. He eventually broke down your walls after weeks and weeks of rejecting him, and you were married within the next three years. Here Shawn was now, about to give his eldest son some girl advice.
“Well… your mom wasn’t exactly so willing to go out with me believe it or not, I think I was around twenty when we met so this was like four years into the whole fame thing.. but the successful time that I asked her out we were actually fighting believe it or not, you know how stubborn she is, she eventually said yes to me just so I would stop indirectly tweeting her..” he trails off, realizing it’s probably best that he stop telling his son about his borderline sexual harassment because it wasn’t the way to go now that he thought about it.
“How did you know mom was the one?” Peter continues, joining Shawn in leaning against his bedroom wall.
“Oh that’s easy, because she rejected me when I asked her out for the first time,”
“That was the green light? That doesn’t make sense,” Peter crinkles his brows, confused at the answer.
“That’s how I knew she didn’t like me because I was Shawn Mendes, she liked me because I was Shawn,” Shawn’s face tinges pink, the thought of his gorgeous wife on their wedding day slowly creeping into his mind. It was a beautiful ceremony held on some ranch in Malibu, it was outdoors in the woodsy area in between gorgeous pine trees and smelled like pine everywhere. Shawn wanted a winter wedding in Canada and you decided that was a no go because you were a California girl and couldn’t handle standing in the winter snow. So you compromised and held the wedding in an area that looked like a rustic barn wedding in British Columbia. It was your own rustic wedding style that you modeled after the scenes in the Twilight movies.
“My point is, son, is that you should just be yourself. You’re pretty good looking no thanks to me, and if you’re anything like mom, then your personality will definitely woo her,” he pats his son on the back. Peter only smiles, rolling his eyes as Shawn so humbly points out his handsome creation. Peter takes everything Shawn’s said into consideration as he mentally planned out how to ask Rosalie to prom.
“Thanks dad.. I think that’s what I needed to hear,” he hugs Shawn, joking about how his mother probably wouldn’t appreciate Shawn telling him about persistent he was.
“Just don’t tell her and neither of us will get in trouble eh?” he nudged his sons arm, leaving his son to practice his guitar skills once more.
He returns to the living area, meeting his beautiful wife as she lounged on the sofa, watching as she so delicately sipped on a flute of champagne.
“How’d it go papa?” She pops her head, watching Shawn as she continues to sip. He hums at the nickname, being slightly turned on.
“Pretty good, I think I got through to him” he plops himself on the sofa next to you, stealing the glass from your hand and downing the rest of the bubbly drink.
“Heeeyy,” you whine, pouting at him. He only kisses you, making you giggle as you pull him in for more, deepening the kiss. He sets the glass on the coffee table, turning to force you to lie on the couch, bringing your legs around his waist. You laugh against his mouth as he so sneakily snakes his tongue into your mouth.
“Shawn!!” You squeal, not believing how easily he could take it from an innocent kiss to making out like two teenagers.
“What? Just because we’re old doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun,” you pull your face from his, pretending to be offended at him calling you old.
“I am not old okay? I will not consider myself to be old until like fifty five okay we’ve got thirteen years-“ you gasp, Shawn laughs against your neck, licking over that famous weak spot of yours.
“I’m meeting Ky- can you guys be gross somewhere else please? Jesus, I’m going to Kyles, we’re working on a project,” Peter interrupts, mortified at the sight of his parents making out like a couple of teens in his high school.
“Be back before ten!” You shout before Peter takes the keys off the hanger, leaving the house and driving off to his friends house. Shawn’s staring as he walks out the door, you sneakily unravel from his grasp.
“I’ll race you to the bedroom!” you quickly get up and jog to the bedroom, Shawn quick on your heels as he smacks your butt. “You’re playing a dangerous game Mrs. Mendes” he bites his lip, pushing you toward the door.
“God, you sexy thing,” Shawn says, pushing you up against the bedroom door and kissing your neck. You fumble with the doorknob, desperately trying to open it as he furiously kisses you. When you finally do, Shawn doesn’t want to let you breathe as your lips are still attached.
He closes the door behind you, locking it on habit. The rest of the night spent giggling between the sheets.
“Pull over I’m gonna vomit,” you burp, sending panic in your besties veins. She immediately pulled the car over and let you get out, spilling the alcohol and acid out onto the pavement, being careful to not get your shoes. You were pretty wasted, you didn’t mean to be either.
It was another friend’s bachelorette party tonight, you hadn’t planned on having any drinks at all until the peer pressure settled in. Several hours and jello shots later, here you were, dumping your insides out on the side of the highway. You hadn’t had a drink in a couple of months to help your diet and it worked, but it set you back to lightweight status. Tonight you really couldn’t hang in there. You wobble back to the car, your bestie staring back at you incredulously.
“You okay babe?”
“No I’m fucking wasted I can’t,” you sneer, the lingering taste of the acid in your stomach still in your mouth.
“We’re only ten minutes away, I called Shawn so he would be awake when you got there okay?”
“Oh god… Shawn’s gonna fucking kill me” you massage your temples, the pain pulsing through your skull.
“He’s not gonna be mad, have some mouthwash then just try to close your eyes so you don’t get motion sick while I drive okay?” she hands you her on call bag and you search for the mouthwash she was talking about. You find it, and swirl it around in your mouth, spitting it out on the sidewalk. You sigh, leaning your head against the headrest and shut your eyes, holding the door in attempt to make the spinning stop.
She hadn’t seen you drunk in a while but when you were in college you got blackout drunk every weekend at frats. She knew how to take care of you even if you did hate her when you were drunk. You were stumbling all over the place at the bachelorette party, nearly cracking your skull op when you fell down, that’s when she took you home. She giggled to herself as she drove, your painful moans sending her into the memories of all the partying you two did in college.
She pulled into the driveway of the house that you shared with Shawn, getting out and having you lean on her to balance. You’re wobbling down the cobblestone pathway to the door that just seemed like a mile long in this condition. Shawn meets you halfway, your bestie practically throwing you at him.
“Here’s your precious princess,” she nods.
“Thank you for taking care of her, Cece” he gives her a quick peck on the cheek before picking you up bridal style, kissing your forehead.
“She’s already thrown up most of whatever she drank so, just keep giving her fluids please,” she walks off. Cece was a nurse at your local hospital, Shawn was so grateful to her to have put her skills and practice to work on you tonight.
“I will, drive safe” he smiles back at her before she takes off.
“And you missy, need to lie down” he playfully scolds you, carrying you into the house.
“Okay.. but don’t get any ideas, I have a fiancée buddy” you poke his chest, showing off the engagement ring you so gladly accepted months prior. He giggles at you, the loyalty remaining even when you were shit faced drunk like this.
“Pretty ring, dude must be rich” he boasts jokingly.
“He is, and he’s got a pretty voice too” you sigh like a teenager in love. Shawn smirks, opening the door and taking you to the living room, laying you on the couch. He leaves you, going to the bathroom to get ibuprofen and a water bottle for you. He quickly grabs your makeup wipes before
“My fiancé will kick your ass, he’s huge, he’s like nine feet tall he could probably eat you” you mumble in your child like voice, Shawn comes back down the hallway with the hangover necessities.
“Nine feet, eh?” He hands you the pills and water and you take them, downing them both in a swift motion.
“Shawn,” you look at him, he’s surprised at the sudden lucidity. Shawn was pretty freaking attractive but the alcohol in your blood made you want to jump him right about now.
“Yes baby,” he peels off your false lashes, going in with a makeup wipe and scrubbing off your eyeshadow, you keep pushing his massive hands from you.
“You’re sexy,” you bite your lip, eyes closed as he continues to scrub at your eyes while you fight him on it.
“Thank you love” he giggles. You start to strip yourself from your clothes. The leather jacket falls to the ground and you peel tight jeans off your legs, untying the tip you wore and placing it on Shawn’s head. You’re left in nothing but the Calvin Klein underwear Shawn bought for you weeks prior.
“Lemme do iiiit” you snatch the wipes from Shawn, going to town on your face and removing the remnants of makeup left on your face. He watches you, sitting across from you on the coffee table. It was a gift you’d gotten him one year for Christmas as a housewarming gift. It was a coffee table that you had made for him, it had his favorite vinyls signed by the artists as well as snippings of quotes from his favorite people scattered around. All on the top of a deep red sheet of metal and was topped with a crystal clear resin, standing up by these deep mahogany legs. He had this huge high tech walk in closet with a built in Bluetooth speaker and vanity to do your makeup installed for you. It was the second best gift you’d ever received, the first being the ring on your left hand.
“Ready for bed?” He asks, pushing the dangling curl out of his face. You only nod, feeling the loopiness come over you. Shawn lifts your half naked body from the couch, taking you to the bedroom.
“Are we gonna have sex?” you question in a weirdly childlike manner. He laughs at the randomness, but all you wanted to do was jump his bones.
“Not tonight honey,” he smiles, opening the door to the bedroom and laying you on the bed. You pout, attempting to lift the sports bra off of your boobs before Shawn stops you.
“Because you’re wasted, love” he takes off his shirt, crawling in bed beside you.
“If you don’t wanna have sex why did you take off your shirt? Do you know what your biceps do to me? Sexy ass,” you turn to him, throwing a leg over his hip as you drunkenly flirt with him. He bites his lip, resisting the urge to furiously make out with you in this moment.
“I always sleep with my shirt off, it’s more comfortable, tipsy” he smiles. You’re suddenly insecure and you cover your chest with your arms.
“Do you not find me sexy?”
“No, I think you’re very sexy. But if I’m gonna fuck you I’d rather do it when you’re sober, and you can feel everything,” his hand is on your hip, and you blush.
“Awwwww, I love youuu” you kiss his perfect nose, and he still giggles at you.
“I love you too, now let’s get some sleep eh? It’s two in the morning and big girl needs her sleep” he kisses your lips and you flip over, being his little spoon as he covers you both with the duvet, wrapping his arms around your middle with yours resting on top.
“You win,” you pout in defeat, Shawn kisses your hair before turning and turning off the bedside lamp.
You lie there in silence, drifting off to sleep for a few seconds before a random thought pops into your alcoholically influenced mind.
“Yes lovely,” he yawns.
“Will you promise to fuck me into oblivion in the morning?” your horny needs attempting to be put at bay.
“I promise to fuck you into oblivion in the morning, babe” you can’t see it, but he’s smiling in the dark of the room. He couldn’t believe how drunk and loopy you were that you couldn’t just get the thought of having sex with him out of your mind. Not that he was complaining.
“Good. I love you, goodnight” you purposely press your butt into him more.
“Night love” he kisses your hair, breathing in your floral scented shampoo as his head shifts to be above yours, your head nuzzling perfectly into his neck.
You drift off to sleep, and your dreams are the wettest, but that was okay, because nothing would prepare you for the fucking you’d received the next morning.
a/n: subpar :/ I really fucking wish this was real.