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I love holding hands !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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crescendo.

note: yet another random piece based on conversations with friends, specifically @someoneunimportantxx & @mndes! thank you for the inspiration (read: naughty influences) + support/proofreading & big love to @shhhawnmendes as well for proofreading help + finding this really perfect picture. hope you all enjoy! wc: 3.2k warnings: nsfw, sex without a condom

You’re home a little later than expected, a couple bags of groceries in either hand and a million options for dinner on your mind. Your head’s so busy between them all that it takes a moment to notice the piano music rising from the back of the apartment. A couple more pass before you realize that it isn’t a recording or something on tv, but him that it’s coming from.

Dinner becomes an easy afterthought — but only briefly, you decide; your stomach’ll riot otherwise — and you take the familiar path to Shawn’s studio, shrugging your coat off along the way. The door’s cracked enough for light to filter into the hallway and, as you inch closer, you hear him singing lyrics you don’t recognize, but love all the same. There’s something unshakably romantic about hearing him over the low light; it’s got you starry-eyed, your heart three sizes too big, and the emotion only deepens when you see him.

The piano is new, a couple thousand dollars worth of elegance that he’d gotten during the last week on tour. But, when he’s hunched over it, eyes shut and body swaying, it fits right in, as at home as the guitars around the room or the plaques on the wall. You’re in no rush to announce yourself in a moment like this —- when his voice fills the room, and you, with a warmth only he has, and he’s so far in his element it might be a crime to make him stop.

So, you don’t. Instead, you rest your shoulder on the door frame and settle in, head bobbing as he goes.

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london time

shawn x reader

word count: 1′634

warning: smut, as per usual

p.s. this was a request from @justthingsiwantwithshawn ! hope you like it (:

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overheard ☆ t.h

REQUEST; i dont know if you take requests but if you do could you maybe do a oneshot where innocent and sweet reader is obsessed with tom’s hands like she keeps imagining dirty stuff? they’ve been dating for quite a while now and they havent done the kinky yet so shes talking to harrison about her fantasies and tom over hears and he makes it his mission to involve his hands alot around her if that makes sense!!!! leading to smut ahh, i love tom’s hands 😍😍

PAIRING; Tom Holland x Reader

WORDS; 4283

WARNING; smut af!! do not read if you’re uncomfortable as that’s the main thing going on and/or talked about. also swearing.

“So how are things?” Harrison asked as he plopped down besides you, beer in hand. You smiled at him fondly, telling him about work and family any news he hasn’t heard about yet–before he shares his own.

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Can we get little play fights over who the better set of friends is - Tom and haz or reader and Sam

Oh my god!!!! Golden ass concept!!!!!!!!!

“Okay, now we just need to RSVP two people for the fund raiser in Birmingham,” Tom concluded the meeting, looking over you with a quip of his brow before he said, “and there’s talk we might have some enemies there, so I think it’s best if we split up.”

You nodded. “Easy, then. Sam and I will go,” you gestured to the boy next to you, who nodded his head enthusiastically, freckles almost shining in excitement. 

“No, Tom and I will go,” Harrison said quickly, “we fight better.” 

“Don’t kid yourself, Haz,” Sam added with a smirk, “Y/N and I make a much better team.”

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i only feel you (xi)

SUMMARY: A world in which soulmates feel their other half, physically and emotionally. Y/N has yet to find her soulmate,yet to decipher the sensations he feels and the lifestyle he leads–prompting her to give up on him altogether. Her other half, she’d come to find, is the leader of the Holland crime family, and in no means the easiest person to love.

PAIRING; Mob!Tom x Reader / Soulmate AU

WORDS; 3659

WARNINGS; swearing, probably angst

                                                                           epilogue

                                           three weeks later

Fortunately for you, you’ve never visited a graveyard until today. It was exactly like the movies always made it seem, eerie, scary, haunted. Silent, only the wind and the small dent your shoes made in the grass the soundtrack of your walk towards the graves.

Sam laced his fingers with yours, and you weren’t even sure who needed it more—you or him.

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i only feel you (viii)

SUMMARY: A world in which soulmates feel their other half, physically and emotionally. Y/N has yet to find her soulmate,yet to decipher the sensations he feels and the lifestyle he leads–prompting her to give up on him altogether. Her other half, she’d come to find, is the leader of the Holland crime family, and in no means the easiest person to love.

PAIRING; Mob!Tom x Reader / Soulmate AU

WORDS; 7373

WARNINGS; swearing, mentions of death, smut!!(will be tagged with *** before and after!), and fluff for days

                                                                                                           eight; golden

Tensions were high in the Holland mansion ever since the night of Harry and Caitlyn’s reunion. They weren’t together, at least that’s what Clarrisa told you, but the once estranged soulmate spent every night in the house and left early in the morning—not bothering to acknowledge the boys, not bothering to say a word to you, and only sometimes saying something Tom’s way, and sometimes patting Clarrisa on the shoulder, and only very rarely giving Harry any form of attention before she left the house.

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i only feel you (vi)

SUMMARY: A world in which soulmates feel their other half, physically and emotionally. Y/N has yet to find her soulmate,yet to decipher the sensations he feels and the lifestyle he leads–prompting her to give up on him altogether. Her other half, she’d come to find, is the leader of the Holland crime family, and in no means the easiest person to love.

PAIRING; Mob!Tom x Reader / Soulmate AU

WORDS; 6014

WARNINGS; swearing, angst, fluff(!), and some nsfw action

                                                                                                                  six; smokescreen

Mornings have become the worst part, a struggle to open each difficult day you had. Ever since you left, you couldn’t find it in yourself to fall asleep without hugging a pillow or two and you couldn’t wake up without the burning ache in your stomach telling you you were missing something. Your own heart has grown numb, hard, boiled to a stone—and the tingling sensation often followed by feelings not belonging to you was the only thing you managed to detect. Tom missed you, he missed you like crazy, but you made a decision. You made a choice to leave him and his lifestyle behind, and nothing in this whole goddamned world would make you waver from that decision.

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i only feel you (v)

SUMMARY: A world in which soulmates feel their other half, physically and emotionally. Y/N has yet to find her soulmate,yet to decipher the sensations he feels and the lifestyle he leads–prompting her to give up on him altogether. Her other half, she’d come to find, is the leader of the Holland crime family, and in no means the easiest person to love.

PAIRING; Mob!Tom x Reader / Soulmate AU

WORDS; 7028

WARNINGS; a lot of swearing, violence, forceful acts of affection, fluff(?)

                                                         five; the gallows

Dread is often described as a tinkling in the back of your stomach, hairs standing in place on the sides of your neck. Tom, however, lived with dread like an old friend, like a cripple holding on to his stick. It never left him, it never let him sleep, as his life was far more dangerous than what he thought it would be. But this, this life, was his—and there was no way to back out of it now. Tom Holland was a leader, a born leader as his mother used to say, and he had to hold onto every last bit of strength he had in him as his soulmate asked to join them in the fight. He could’ve, he should’ve, told her to stay behind with Clarrisa—only until she was properly trained, but as he heard her voice, telling him (not asking, because she definitely didn’t want his permission for anything), that she was coming with him, that she was on his side—well, dread quickly transformed into a strange and unfamiliar sense of safety. 

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For Writers:

Reblog if it’s okay for your followers to leave you an ask telling you what the one thing is they remember you for as a writer.  Is it a scene or a detail or a specific line? Is it something like style or characterization?  Is it that one weird kink they never thought they’d be into, but oh my god wow self-discovery time?

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A Love Affair (Valet Shawn Imagine)

Hello everyone, Happy 2019!

This time, I am taking you back to the 1800s, when (and where) Queen Victoria ruler her kingdom like a badass. I am so in love with the tv series that I have decided to write an imagine inspired by it. English is not my first language, therefore writing like a kid in the 19th century was quite difficult, BUT I made my research and it turned out pretty well. Most of my characters existed in the past- well, Shawn didn’t of course.

I am back with a new imagine which could turn into a mini-series or it could have a spin-off. If you want this to happen, please remember that feedback is always appreciated!

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it.

5,1k words

Love, B.

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London, March 1840.

(Jane’s POV)

“Lady Jane, niece of the Duchess of Buccleuch, Your Majesty.” I said, bowing in front of the Queen. My first day at Buckingham Palace.

“Duchess, Lady Jane, I am delighted by your presence at court. I believe I will enjoy your company very much. You have our permission to accommodate in your apartments, we will meet at 40 minutes after 14 hours for my daily walk in the park.“ Queen Victoria replied, smiling kindly at me while I lifted my head again, holding my hands tight together to make them stop shaking.  I excused myself and exited the Throne Room with my old aunt, never turning my back to the Royal Family as Mama taught me when I was little. I followed my aunt into our apartments, mesmerized by the golden greatness of the palace and its hallways. Shining, crystal chandeliers hanging from the decorated ceilings, large paintings adorning the walls.

”You need to straighten your back while you bow, Jane.”  the Duchess scolded, giving me a quite disappointed look.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I will practise as soon as my engagements will permit me to.” I answered, eyes looking at the floor. I hoped the Queen did not notice my lack of composure.

“Not today then. You heard Her Majesty, you better hurry and change your attire. We need to be ready to follow the Queen in all of her appointments when she requires our company. Do not forget to prepare your watercolours and your paint brushes. It is good use to gift Her Majesty with a painting to show her your abilities. God knows if she will find you useful.” she told me with her usual cold tone. I nodded in silence and excused myself, moving to the other room to change my dress and shoes into something more comfortable than the ceremony dress I wore to meet Her Majesty Queen Victoria and His Royal Highness Prince Albert. A little knock on the door caught my attention while I was selecting the best brushes of my collection. I opened the door slowly, ready to bow at whoever was in front of me.

“Jane, you must not open the doors by yourself. We have the guards for this reason.” the Duchess exclaimed from the nearest room. That old woman had eyes everywhere.

“I am sorry, ma’am. It will not happen again.” I confirmed, sighting a little before turning my head to the door. A handsome, tall man was standing uncomfortably in front of me. He was wearing simple, cotton clothes and his hair, although had been visibly brushed to give them some order, were messy on his head. He smiled kindly, plump limps adorning his face that had now turned bright, embarrassed red. He was carrying a golden tray, a letter laying on it.

“Correspondence for the Duchess of Buccleuch, ma’am.” he exclaimed, extending the tray in my direction. I admired his smile, flattering my eyelashes fast to come back to my senses once I realized I was staring too long.

“Thank you, I will consign it to her.” I smiled, taking the golden paper in my gloved hands. The boy bowed his head a little, retiring himself and walking down the hallway. I could have sworn he was muttering to himself.

“Give it to me, Jane! I am not too old to open a letter by myself.” the Duchess said, taking the envelope from my hands and sitting in her armchair.

“Go, do something, Jane. I am sure you will find something else to do instead of standing there, looking at me.” she added and I nodded, dismissing myself and walking out of our apartment.

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Buckingham Palace, Summer 1840.

“The Queen is pregnant, Jane, so you must practise your musical skills in order to delight her whenever she requests it. In her conditions, she will not have many engagements and you must amuse her during her period of rest.” the Duchess ordered and I assented, accepting for the thousandth time a new order.

“Yes, ma’am. I will be in the Green Room, exercising myself at the piano.” I bowed at her and walked down the stairs, losing myself in those infinities, golden hallways.

“It seems to me that you might be in need of help, My Lady.” a masculine voice said behind me. I turned and curtsey at the blonde, good-looking man dressed up in a classic English red and white uniform.

“Yes, Sir. I was searching for the Green Room to play the piano but I must have lost my path. “ I answered, intertwining my hands in front of me and straightening my back, the corset digging in the soft form of my hips and obliging me to stay rigid.

“I will be honoured to walk you to your destination. I believe I have not had the pleasure to make your acquaintance before. I am Lord Alfred Henry Paget.” he said, lifting his hat with his right hand while walking by my side.

“Lady Jane, niece of the Duchess of Buccleuch, My Lord.” I replied, reverencing again. If I was obliged to introduce myself once more in this way, I would be sickening straight away. Fortunately, we walked in silence down various hallways.

“I believe you are very talented in the matter of music. I would like to hear your favourite piece, Lady Jane.” he proclaimed entering the Green Room.

“It would be a pleasure to me, Lord Alfred.” I replied, sitting in front of the instrument with my handwritten score in front of my eyes. I played for what felt like hours, waiting for Lord Alfred to excuse himself in order to let me finish but he seemed too delighted to acknowledge my tiredness so I had to keep playing and playing until a knock on the open door gave me the perfect excuse to rest my hands.

“Please, do not stop playing, Lady Jane. Your music is nectar to my ears. “ the Lord said, requiring me to start again.

“Pardon Sir, I would never interrupt your activities but I have correspondence for you, Lord Alfred.” the same servant I met multiple times during my stay here spoke vehemently but politely. I turned slightly my gaze to look at him, my hands dancing expertly on the keyboard.

"You are my favourite page boy for a reason, Shawn. You can go now.” the Lord replied and I repressed a surprised smile. The boy, Shawn, curved his head down and exited the room.

"I would like you to sit with me, Lady Jane. I believe your hands feel heavy after such an impeccable performance.” added Lord Alfred after he read the letter, making me almost sighting in relief. I sit on the bench in front of his chair, hands in my lap.

"May I say that I have never heard a respectable man like you call a servant by his name, Lord Alfred.” I questioned politely, looking at the man sitting with the letter now opened in front of him.

"I recognise you are right, Lady Jane, it might result inappropriate but Shawn and I grew up in different parts of the same house. It was not unusual for my kid self to play with him. I believe he is as respectable as me when it comes to names and not noble titles, My Lady. ” he answered calmly, making me smile a little.

“I find it very kind of the Queen to permit you to take your servants here at Palace. ” I replied while he nodded.

“Being Chief Equerry and Clerk Marshal of the Queen has its privileges, beyond its duties, My Lady. In fact, I must excuse myself but I must go to solve some of my obligations. Hearing you play was a pleasure, I do hope I will be able to do it again soon.” he exclaimed, almost happily, while we both stood to greet each other.

"It was an honour, Lord Alfred.” I smiled politely, bowing after he kissed my right hand.

"If you happen to get lost again, please ask me or Shawn for help. I would never want you to miss your engagements because you could not find the right way, Lady Jane.” I giggled a little, nodding slowly.

"You have my word, Lord Alfred.” I agreed and he smiled one last time before wearing his hat on his head again and walking out of the small salon. He was a respectable man and a tempting marriage prospect, indeed, but he could not make my heart race in the same ways as his valet.

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Anglesey, Irish Sea, January 1839

(Shawn’s POV)

"Shawn, my reliable friend, I have a great tiding for you! I have been chosen to be the Queen’s Chief Equerry and Clerk Marshal. We are moving to Buckingham Palace, dear friend! Please, guarantee that all my essentials are packed before Saturday at 13 hours.” my master, Lord Alfred, ordered kindly. I nodded and bowed my head.

"I am pleasantly happy but not surprised for your achievement, Sir. I will personally pack your chest with all the things that are necessary.” I obeyed, making my way into the Master’s estate to prepare all the items of baggage.

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Buckingham Palace, March 1840.

"Everyone, listen! Today the new Ladies-in-waiting of the Queen will arrive. The Queen will host a luncheon and you will all be expected to greet them with their noble title or calling them Lady. Everyone will be needed today, so forget about your normal role because you will be demanded to do whatever will be necessary, including serving someone who isn’t your master. All clear? Now, go and do your work.” Mister Penge, the servants’ supervisor, explained with his usual harshness what were our daily tasks. Clearly, being Lord Alfred’s page did not exonerate me from normal tasks. Soon, I was asked to deliver envelopes all over the Palace, ending right in the wing reserved to the Queen’s Ladies. I knocked at the white and gold door, the Royal Guards looking at me dubiously. A young, beautiful girl opened the door, a smooth move like she was used to doing it every day. I doubted she was.

"Correspondence for the Duchess of Buccleuch, ma’am.” I spoke kindly, my cheeks immediately burning red because of her eyes scanning my clearly not noble attire. I took advantage of her distraction to admire the way her dress hugged her small frame perfectly. It was rather simple to be worn by a Lady like her: blue and long, without any particular pattern but pearled lace adorning her round, full chest and her slim waist. Then I looked at her round, natural rosy face: blue eyes shining, matching the Royal environment surrounding us, and blonde, curly hair framing her cheeks softly, leaving her pierced ears free to make those big, celestial blue earrings reflect the pale light of the sun.

"Thank you, I will consign it to her.” she smiled, locking my eyes with hers while her delicate hands, covered with matching blue gloves,  took the letter from the tray. I nodded, bowed and made my way back into the servant’s floor, scolding myself for being too insolent while looking at her. She is a Lady and, therefore, not someone made for me.

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Buckingham Palace, November 1840.

"Shawn, please, deliver this letter to Lady Jane. I believe I saw her walking in the garden after she left Her Majesty’s apartments. I am surprised her aunt, the Duchess, left her alone so please, hurry. I would really like to meet her soon. I give you custody of this letter.” Lord Alfred issued me with this duty and I nodded immediately, placing the letter on the golden tray and walking out of the Palace. The air was cold but fresh, the sky was promising white snow. I walked for a few minutes before finding Lady Jane sitting on a marble bench, her wooden easel in front of her and two palettes of watercolours placed on the table at her right. A thin brush placed in her left hand, lifted in the air and moving suavely to imitate the forms of the white flowers blossomed in the garden in front of her.

"I am sorry to interfere in your activities, ma’am, but I have a letter for you from Lord Alfred.” I announced, moving to be in her sight. She started a little on her seat, brush falling from her hold. I knelt to the ground, taking the tool in my bigger hands and offering it to her with the letter.

"Thank you, you can put the letter on the table.” she answered weakly, her usual warm smile long forgotten. I assented, placing the envelope far from the big cup full of coloured water to preserve it from being soaked. I bowed and started to walk away, before turning again.

"I would not want to sound unkind, but I believe it is getting cold outside and your dress does not seem warm enough.” I said hesitantly.

"I believe you are right, indeed, but going in my apartments would mean meet my aunt and I would rather not right now. Thank you for your carefulness.” she replied, smiling faintly. I nodded again and bowed, starting to walk away once more. I could not leave her like that, though. I might not own a title but I am a gentleman, still. I turned again.

"I am afraid I have no right to offer this but, since I have no right to enter your apartments, ma’am, I could take you my coat to fight the cold? Or I could ask Lord Alfred and take you one of his warmer coats, I am sure it would be much more appropriate.” I spoke again and this time she turned to face me.

"I would like to be left alone, please, so do not call Lord Alfred.” she answered, turning back to draw a harsh line on her canvas. I sighted, ready to recite my excuses, but she interrupted me.

"I would also like to wear your coat, please. I do not want to pass a cold to our very pregnant Queen.” she added and I smiled, relieved, running in my dormitory and going back to her. I placed my only coat, one gifted to me by my old father before my departure to Buckingham Palace, on her small shoulders. She smiled, placing her hands on mine to adjust the cloth.

"Thank you so much. Would you mind moving those flowers for me? ” she asked kindly, almost giving me the chance to say no.

“Yes, ma’am. Guide me.” I replied, making my way to the small flowerbed. I started to move the flowers as her wish, making myself comfortable between them.

"This is perfect, please, hold them in this way for a little bit longer.” she commanded, sounding more like a girl and less like a lady. Sitting there, in the humid grass, I wondered how old was her, if she was happy about being at court or if she was happy in general. On any other day, if someone asked me, I would have said that she was, indeed, happy. But that day, maybe for the usual, grey sky of London, or maybe for the way a lock of her hair fell from her unkempt hairstyle, I would have answered that being a Lady was an attire too tight for her to wear.

"Please, Shawn, talk to me. Some company would make me work faster.” she spoke, her face hidden by the canvas she was working on.

"I am 22 years old and I grew up in Lord Alfred’s dad’s estate. My mother was a seamstress and my dad a squire but I was raised to be everything Lord Alfred wanted me to be: a friend, a rival in a fencing match or a musician. I am grateful because I got the chance to listen to Lord Alfred repeat his lectures or exercise his skills and, in this way, I learnt to write, to read and some science and astronomy too. Being able to read gave me the opportunity to admire the world’s greatest poems like the Odyssey or Shakespeare’s plays. Personally, my favourite is Macbeth, not only for the history it tells but mostly because of the teaching it shares with us: always choose honesty before power. And I do follow this example even if, in my opinion, a man who lived in the 17th century could have been more kind to the poor, crazy Lady Macbeth. I also like music, in fact, I can play the piano and some instruments with strings. I really enjoy looking at paintings and I know many famous artists but, unfortunately, my hands are not as delicate as yours: I would make a horrible painting if my hands were allowed to touch, even lightly, a brush.” I spoke, hearing her soft giggles coming from the seat she was sat on.

"Such a curious man you are. Please, come here. I would really like your opinion on my painting.” she said, placing the brush in the cup and standing up. I walked forward, brushing my hands on my trousers to take off the humid terrain. I stood behind her, my big frame hovering over her, allowing me to see her canvas. It represented the garden, with those white flowers that lasted all winter and that she seemed to love. The harsh line she angrily painted before was now moulded to resemble a cloud in the sky. I then recognize my figure, almost laid in that carpet of flowers that looked like snow. She did not paint my face, just some light strokes to resemble my lips, nose, eyes and eyebrows.

"Wow…this is…not what I expected, to be honest, but it is a real masterpiece. I believe your hand has a magic touch on this canvas.” I congratulated her, still mesmerized by her talent.

"I hope you do not mind, Shawn, but everything seemed too grey and sad before you came here with your charming, warm smile. I thought I needed to bring the same warmness into my painting, in order to balance the cloudy sky I see every day from this golden prison.” she answered, turning to look at me. I lowered my chin a bit, our eyes intertwined once more while I admired the smile that was gracing on her fine lips.

"I am honoured, Lady Jane.” I said, looking back to the painting. She was too beautiful.

"Just Jane for you, I beg.” she whispered, surprising me with her request. I smiled and nodded, looking back at her and allowing myself to get lost in her beauty once more.

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(Jane’s POV)

“Her Majesty, The Queen of England and His Royal Highness Prince Albert are delighted to announce the Servants’ Christmas Ball in honour of the newborn Princess Victoria. It will take place this Saturday, the 23rd of December in the basement. ” The servants’ supervisor announced. A small smile appeared on my face, my gaze running around the Throne Room and laying on Shawn’s excited face. Our meetings became more frequent: it could be in the gardens, when he delivered letters and spent more time than necessary by my side as I tried to teach him the French technique to use watercolours, or I could play the piano for hours, waiting for him to casually walk by and play with me, hoping no one saw us. We smiled for a few seconds at each other, then I turned to look at the Queen, sat on the throne, happiness and relief surrounding her. She was made for being a Queen. The pregnancy had made her uncomfortable and she felt useless; now she was ready to reign over her kingdom again and what better than a ball to celebrate? She loved balls. I loved balls too.

Returned to our apartments, I dismissed myself from the Duchess and I sat at the small glass table, brush in my hand as I started to draw the dress I would have loved to wear at the party. I was expected to wear the dress the Duchess would have found more suitable for me, but I would have loved to wear a rather simple dress, without all of the elaborated patterns and diamonds. Maybe a plain green dress with a little fine lace on the hem and my favourite pin, the last gift my mom left for me: a pin with an emerald and some small pearls. I hope Shawn would have liked me better in a simple dress. Maybe, if I asked nicely, I could have gotten the dressed I was more pleased to wear.

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(Shawn’s POV)

“Shawn, I believe your ceremony suit does not fit you well enough to be seen by Her Majesty. So I asked my tailor to create a new costume for you, I believe we have the same size. And certainly, I would never want people to deem I do not treat my servants, once in a while.” Lord Alfred declared, handing me the suit.

"Thank you, Sir. I am very grateful for this.” I replied, taking the soft cloth in my hands. I hoped Jane would have found me classy enough to share a dance with me.

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Buckingham Palace, the 23rd of December.

I was thrilled. The basement was decorated with green plants and good perfumes, a small Christmas tree in the corner with small candles to lit it up. I shaved and cleaned as much as I could, trying to be the best version I could be to deserve the company of Jane. I wore the suit, which probably cost as much as three years of my salary, and I was surprised it fitted so good on me. I looked almost…noble.

20 minutes after 19 hours, the trumpets started to play and we all lined up to greet the Queen. She was absolutely gorgeous, indeed, but the woman walking three steps behind her was breathtaking. Jane was wearing a long, green velvet dress, tight around her chest and loose around her hips. A small pin in the middle of the neckline and her hair tied up in a low bun made of a braid, the same white flowers she loved perfectly arranged between her locks.

"Maestro, please.” the Queen said, motioning to the small orchestra. The Head Master took her in his arms as they lead the dance, servants and noble joining them soon after. I walked slowly to the other side of the small living room, standing beside Lord Alfred and Lady Jane.

"Lady Jane, may I have this dance?” Lord Alfred said after a while, offering his hand to the lovely woman near him. She seemed uncomfortable, the Duchess her aunt whispering in her ear, clearly trying to convince her to accept. She was almost nodding, lifting her hand to lay it in my master’s.

"I believe, Sir, this ball is meant to intertwine servants and nobles. It would not be a good image if two nobles danced with each other. I am sure Miss Skerret would be pleased to dance with you, Lord Alfred.” Mister Penge exclaimed, showing my friend Nancy to my master. He nodded, not pleased but not angry, taking Miss Skerret’s hand and going into the dance floor. Mister Penge looked at me slightly, nodding a little in Jane’s direction and walking away to dance with the Queen. I smiled, turning to face Jane.

"Lady Jane, may I lead you to the dance floor?” I asked kindly, stretching my hand for her to take it.

“I would be honoured.” she smiled, placing her soft hand in mine with no hesitation. I squeezed it softly, leading her where the others were dancing and we started waving together, her hand on my shoulder and mine leaned delicately on the upper part of her back.

"I have reason to believe your aunt was not delighted by this ball, My Lady.” I spoke softly, looking at her shining blue eyes. She giggled, hand holding mine a little bit tighter.

"I am sure you are not mistaken, she has not stopped showing her disappointment since the ball was announced. I find it almost disrespectful, it is something the Queen really looked forward too.” She reasoned, her feet guiding mine during the Walzer we were dancing to.

"Was she? I hope she was not the only one.” I replied, distancing myself from her warm body just enough to let her twirl a few seconds, welcoming her back in my arms soon after.

"Indeed, she was not. The whole court is reunited here, tonight. I find this amusing and a good event to lighten everyone’s state of mind.” She laughed, twirling again and ending closer to my chest. We danced for a few minutes, switching partners for the next five dances before I had the chance to address her again.

"Would it be inappropriate if I admitted I missed all of you?” I whispered softly, my hand moving slightly on her back. I knew the corset was probably hurting her, her shoulders tensed and her movements not as smooth as when we danced once, in the dark of the night.

"It would not if I admitted I missed all of you too, certainly.” She smiled, her eyes looking lovely in the Christmas light.

"I wish we could be closer, just like we were when you were getting my horse ready.” She added, her face getting close to my shoulder. I sighed, memories of the time we passed as normal young persons full-filling my head.

"I wish, indeed, but I am afraid this will be the closest we will get to be tonight.”  I replied, my fingers intertwined with her in a desperate attempt to satisfy the need of caress her cheek.

"Maybe I could forget my gloves on the wooden chair I see in the corner, and you would be expected to bring them to me.” Jane suggested, her warm breath caressing my neck, making me shiver.

"It would be a shame, ma’am, if you did not have the chance to wear this morbid gloves again.” I agreed, my thumb brushed softly against the uncovered skin in the middle of her shoulder blades. We stayed silent for the rest of the night, gifting each other with hidden smiles. When the Queen retired, her Ladies-In-Waiting and the rest of the nobles followed her. I stayed with my equals, cleaning until I noticed her small, light green gloves methodically placed on the chair’s seatback. I put them in the pocket of my jacket, breaking a smile as the perfume of my beloved Jane filled my senses. As I finished my duties, I climbed the stairs and patiently wait for Jane to arrive. When she did, she was wearing a dark coat on her nightgown. Her hair was no longer organized in a complicated way, only a simple hair comb to keep it from falling on her face.

"I am sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but I am afraid you may have forgotten your gloves downstairs, after the ball.” I played my role, her small hand wrapping around my wrist and guiding me to a darker hallway.

“Thank you, Shawn. I would have not know what to do with myself if I did not get them back.“ She whispered, her hands brushing against mine to collect the gloves and placing them in her pocket.

"May I have the pleasure? One more dance with you.” I smiled, my arms embracing her tenderly.

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(Jane’s POV)

How could I resist his loving smile? I knew the Duchess was probably waiting for me, but forgetting for a few minutes of who I was and what I was supposed to do sounded too sweet to refuse. I placed my head in the crook of his neck, his warmness feeling familiar.

"You looked..exquisite tonight. But would you mind if I…?” he whispered, his hand coming up and wrapping around my hair comb, extracting it slowly to let my hair fall freely on my shoulders and neck.

"I love seeing you..unbounded. Less like a Lady, more like a beautiful, young woman.” Shawn explained, his fingers brushing sweetly against my cheekbone, moving my messy hair to reveal more naked skin. I smiled shyly as he started to hum a slow harmony, his head lowering to caress my neck and my cheekbones with the soft curve of his rosy lips. I closed my eyes, his fingers moving more hair behind my ears, his kisses coming to my cheek. I opened my eyes again, uncertain if I would enjoy more this moment blind or not, only to find his brown eyes already staring at me with a glimpse of hope and tenderness.

"My beloved Jane…I wish I could be the man for you, and we both know I am not. But for tonight, I want to forget and just be a boy in love with a girl.” he whispered, his breath warm on me. I smiled in disbelief.

“You love me?” I questioned, my hand lifting to twist the lonely curl who fell on his forehead around my small finger. He took my free, and for once naked, hand in his, kneeling to the ground and kissing it in a slightly way.

“How could I not, my angel? Your skin is like silk under my callous finger, giving them rest after a rough day. Your eyes are always so full of admiration when I speak about music and art, even if I am just a valet. Your hair, blonde as the grain of August and perfumed like the flowers you adore. And your lips, my love…” he said, standing back on his feet and taking my face in his hands “…your lips look just like my deepest desire, the one I try to hold back so fiercely.” he murmured, his nose stroking lovely against mine.

“Please, my dear…do not hold it back. You are my only wish.” I replied. He smiled brightly at my words, nodding before pressing his lips on mine. A slow, uncertain kiss at first and a passionate embrace then, his arms closing around me and mine tugging kindly at the hair at the base of his neck. The humid sound of our lips parting and reconnecting was the only one filling the air as his tongue tapped gently against my lower lip, begging to meet mine and to capture it in a dance as sweet as the one who concerned us before. As we parted one last time, the midnight bells ringing in distance, he pressed a kiss on my forehead guiding my hands to rest over his strong chest to feel the fast beat of his heart.

Masterlist

[nosafetynetunderneath]

A Love Affair (Valet Shawn Imagine)

Hello everyone! Happy 2019!

This time, I am taking you back to the 1800s, when (and where) Queen Victoria ruler her kingdom like a badass. I am so in love with the tv series that I have decided to write an imagine inspired by it. English is not my first language, therefore writing like a kid in the 19th century was quite difficult, BUT I made my research and it turned out pretty well. Most of my characters existed in the past- well, Shawn didn’t of course.

I am back with a new imagine which could turn into a mini-series or it could have a spin-off. If you want this to happen, please remember that feedback is always appreciated!

I hope you enjoy riding it as much as I loved writing it.

5,1k words

Love, B.

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London, March 1840.

(Jane’s POV)

“Lady Jane, niece of the Duchess of Buccleuch, Your Majesty.” I said, bowing in front of the Queen. My first day at Buckingham Palace.

“Duchess, Lady Jane, I am delighted by your presence at court. I believe I will enjoy your company very much. You have our permission to accommodate in your apartments, we will meet at 40 minutes after 14 hours for my daily walk in the park.“ Queen Victoria replied, smiling kindly at me while I lifted my head again, holding my hands tight together to make them stop shaking.  I excused myself and exited the Throne Room with my old aunt, never turning my back to the Royal Family as Mama taught me when I was little. I followed my aunt into our apartments, mesmerized by the golden greatness of the palace and its hallways. Shining, crystal chandeliers hanging from the decorated ceilings, large paintings adorning the walls.

”You need to straighten your back while you bow, Jane.”  the Duchess scolded, giving me a quite disappointed look.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I will practise as soon as my engagements will permit me to.” I answered, eyes looking at the floor. I hoped the Queen did not notice my lack of composure.

“Not today then. You heard Her Majesty, you better hurry and change your attire. We need to be ready to follow the Queen in all of her appointments when she requires our company. Do not forget to prepare your watercolours and your paint brushes. It is good use to gift Her Majesty with a painting to show her your abilities. God knows if she will find you useful.” she told me with her usual cold tone. I nodded in silence and excused myself, moving to the other room to change my dress and shoes into something more comfortable than the ceremony dress I wore to meet Her Majesty Queen Victoria and His Royal Highness Prince Albert. A little knock on the door caught my attention while I was selecting the best brushes of my collection. I opened the door slowly, ready to bow at whoever was in front of me.

“Jane, you must not open the doors by yourself. We have the guards for this reason.” the Duchess exclaimed from the nearest room. That old woman had eyes everywhere.

“I am sorry, ma’am. It will not happen again.” I confirmed, sighting a little before turning my head to the door. A handsome, tall man was standing uncomfortably in front of me. He was wearing simple, cotton clothes and his hair, although had been visibly brushed to give them some order, were messy on his head. He smiled kindly, plump limps adorning his face that had now turned bright, embarrassed red. He was carrying a golden tray, a letter laying on it.

“Correspondence for the Duchess of Buccleuch, ma’am.” he exclaimed, extending the tray in my direction. I admired his smile, flattering my eyelashes fast to come back to my senses once I realized I was staring too long.

“Thank you, I will consign it to her.” I smiled, taking the golden paper in my gloved hands. The boy bowed his head a little, retiring himself and walking down the hallway. I could have sworn he was muttering to himself.

“Give it to me, Jane! I am not too old to open a letter by myself.” the Duchess said, taking the envelope from my hands and sitting in her armchair.

“Go, do something, Jane. I am sure you will find something else to do instead of standing there, looking at me.” she added and I nodded, dismissing myself and walking out of our apartment.

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Buckingham Palace, Summer 1840.

“The Queen is pregnant, Jane, so you must practise your musical skills in order to delight her whenever she requests it. In her conditions, she will not have many engagements and you must amuse her during her period of rest.” the Duchess ordered and I assented, accepting for the thousandth time a new order.

“Yes, ma’am. I will be in the Green Room, exercising myself at the piano.” I bowed at her and walked down the stairs, losing myself in those infinities, golden hallways.

“It seems to me that you might be in need of help, My Lady.” a masculine voice said behind me. I turned and curtsey at the blonde, good-looking man dressed up in a classic English red and white uniform.

“Yes, Sir. I was searching for the Green Room to play the piano but I must have lost my path. “ I answered, intertwining my hands in front of me and straightening my back, the corset digging in the soft form of my hips and obliging me to stay rigid.

“I will be honoured to walk you to your destination. I believe I have not had the pleasure to make your acquaintance before. I am Lord Alfred Henry Paget.” he said, lifting his hat with his right hand while walking by my side.

“Lady Jane, niece of the Duchess of Buccleuch, My Lord.” I replied, reverencing again. If I was obliged to introduce myself once more in this way, I would be sickening straight away. Fortunately, we walked in silence down various hallways.

“I believe you are very talented in the matter of music. I would like to hear your favourite piece, Lady Jane.” he proclaimed entering the Green Room.

“It would be a pleasure to me, Lord Alfred.” I replied, sitting in front of the instrument with my handwritten score in front of my eyes. I played for what felt like hours, waiting for Lord Alfred to excuse himself in order to let me finish but he seemed too delighted to acknowledge my tiredness so I had to keep playing and playing until a knock on the open door gave me the perfect excuse to rest my hands.

“Please, do not stop playing, Lady Jane. Your music is nectar to my ears. “ the Lord said, requiring me to start again.

“Pardon Sir, I would never interrupt your activities but I have correspondence for you, Lord Alfred.” the same servant I met multiple times during my stay here spoke vehemently but politely. I turned slightly my gaze to look at him, my hands dancing expertly on the keyboard.

"You are my favourite page boy for a reason, Shawn. You can go now.” the Lord replied and I repressed a surprised smile. The boy, Shawn, curved his head down and exited the room.

"I would like you to sit with me, Lady Jane. I believe your hands feel heavy after such an impeccable performance.” added Lord Alfred after he read the letter, making me almost sighting in relief. I sit on the bench in front of his chair, hands in my lap.

"May I say that I have never heard a respectable man like you call a servant by his name, Lord Alfred.” I questioned politely, looking at the man sitting with the letter now opened in front of him.

"I recognise you are right, Lady Jane, it might result inappropriate but Shawn and I grew up in different parts of the same house. It was not unusual for my kid self to play with him. I believe he is as respectable as me when it comes to names and not noble titles, My Lady. ” he answered calmly, making me smile a little.

“I find it very kind of the Queen to permit you to take your servants here at Palace. ” I replied while he nodded.

“Being Chief Equerry and Clerk Marshal of the Queen has its privileges, beyond its duties, My Lady. In fact, I must excuse myself but I must go to solve some of my obligations. Hearing you play was a pleasure, I do hope I will be able to do it again soon.” he exclaimed, almost happily, while we both stood to greet each other.

"It was an honour, Lord Alfred.” I smiled politely, bowing after he kissed my right hand.

"If you happen to get lost again, please ask me or Shawn for help. I would never want you to miss your engagements because you could not find the right way, Lady Jane.” I giggled a little, nodding slowly.

"You have my word, Lord Alfred.” I agreed and he smiled one last time before wearing his hat on his head again and walking out of the small salon. He was a respectable man and a tempting marriage prospect, indeed, but he could not make my heart race in the same ways as his valet.

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Anglesey, Irish Sea, January 1839

(Shawn’s POV)

"Shawn, my reliable friend, I have a great tiding for you! I have been chosen to be the Queen’s Chief Equerry and Clerk Marshal. We are moving to Buckingham Palace, dear friend! Please, guarantee that all my essentials are packed before Saturday at 13 hours.” my master, Lord Alfred, ordered kindly. I nodded and bowed my head.

"I am pleasantly happy but not surprised for your achievement, Sir. I will personally pack your chest with all the things that are necessary.” I obeyed, making my way into the Master’s estate to prepare all the items of baggage.

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Buckingham Palace, March 1840.

"Everyone, listen! Today the new Ladies-in-waiting of the Queen will arrive. The Queen will host a luncheon and you will all be expected to greet them with their noble title or calling them Lady. Everyone will be needed today, so forget about your normal role because you will be demanded to do whatever will be necessary, including serving someone who isn’t your master. All clear? Now, go and do your work.” Mister Penge, the servants’ supervisor, explained with his usual harshness what were our daily tasks. Clearly, being Lord Alfred’s page did not exonerate me from normal tasks. Soon, I was asked to deliver envelopes all over the Palace, ending right in the wing reserved to the Queen’s Ladies. I knocked at the white and gold door, the Royal Guards looking at me dubiously. A young, beautiful girl opened the door, a smooth move like she was used to doing it every day. I doubted she was.

"Correspondence for the Duchess of Buccleuch, ma’am.” I spoke kindly, my cheeks immediately burning red because of her eyes scanning my clearly not noble attire. I took advantage of her distraction to admire the way her dress hugged her small frame perfectly. It was rather simple to be worn by a Lady like her: blue and long, without any particular pattern but pearled lace adorning her round, full chest and her slim waist. Then I looked at her round, natural rosy face: blue eyes shining, matching the Royal environment surrounding us, and blonde, curly hair framing her cheeks softly, leaving her pierced ears free to make those big, celestial blue earrings reflect the pale light of the sun.

"Thank you, I will consign it to her.” she smiled, locking my eyes with hers while her delicate hands, covered with matching blue gloves,  took the letter from the tray. I nodded, bowed and made my way back into the servant’s floor, scolding myself for being too insolent while looking at her. She is a Lady and, therefore, not someone made for me.

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Buckingham Palace, November 1840.

"Shawn, please, deliver this letter to Lady Jane. I believe I saw her walking in the garden after she left Her Majesty’s apartments. I am surprised her aunt, the Duchess, left her alone so please, hurry. I would really like to meet her soon. I give you custody of this letter.” Lord Alfred issued me with this duty and I nodded immediately, placing the letter on the golden tray and walking out of the Palace. The air was cold but fresh, the sky was promising white snow. I walked for a few minutes before finding Lady Jane sitting on a marble bench, her wooden easel in front of her and two palettes of watercolours placed on the table at her right. A thin brush placed in her left hand, lifted in the air and moving suavely to imitate the forms of the white flowers blossomed in the garden in front of her.

"I am sorry to interfere in your activities, ma’am, but I have a letter for you from Lord Alfred.” I announced, moving to be in her sight. She started a little on her seat, brush falling from her hold. I knelt to the ground, taking the tool in my bigger hands and offering it to her with the letter.

"Thank you, you can put the letter on the table.” she answered weakly, her usual warm smile long forgotten. I assented, placing the envelope far from the big cup full of coloured water to preserve it from being soaked. I bowed and started to walk away, before turning again.

"I would not want to sound unkind, but I believe it is getting cold outside and your dress does not seem warm enough.” I said hesitantly.

"I believe you are right, indeed, but going in my apartments would mean meet my aunt and I would rather not right now. Thank you for your carefulness.” she replied, smiling faintly. I nodded again and bowed, starting to walk away once more. I could not leave her like that, though. I might not own a title but I am a gentleman, still. I turned again.

"I am afraid I have no right to offer this but, since I have no right to enter your apartments, ma’am, I could take you my coat to fight the cold? Or I could ask Lord Alfred and take you one of his warmer coats, I am sure it would be much more appropriate.” I spoke again and this time she turned to face me.

"I would like to be left alone, please, so do not call Lord Alfred.” she answered, turning back to draw a harsh line on her canvas. I sighted, ready to recite my excuses, but she interrupted me.

"I would also like to wear your coat, please. I do not want to pass a cold to our very pregnant Queen.” she added and I smiled, relieved, running in my dormitory and going back to her. I placed my only coat, one gifted to me by my old father before my departure to Buckingham Palace, on her small shoulders. She smiled, placing her hands on mine to adjust the cloth.

"Thank you so much. Would you mind moving those flowers for me? ” she asked kindly, almost giving me the chance to say no.

“Yes, ma’am. Guide me.” I replied, making my way to the small flowerbed. I started to move the flowers as her wish, making myself comfortable between them.

"This is perfect, please, hold them in this way for a little bit longer.” she commanded, sounding more like a girl and less like a lady. Sitting there, in the humid grass, I wondered how old was her, if she was happy about being at court or if she was happy in general. On any other day, if someone asked me, I would have said that she was, indeed, happy. But that day, maybe for the usual, grey sky of London, or maybe for the way a lock of her hair fell from her unkempt hairstyle, I would have answered that being a Lady was an attire too tight for her to wear.

"Please, Shawn, talk to me. Some company would make me work faster.” she spoke, her face hidden by the canvas she was working on.

"I am 22 years old and I grew up in Lord Alfred’s dad’s estate. My mother was a seamstress and my dad a squire but I was raised to be everything Lord Alfred wanted me to be: a friend, a rival in a fencing match or a musician. I am grateful because I got the chance to listen to Lord Alfred repeat his lectures or exercise his skills and, in this way, I learnt to write, to read and some science and astronomy too. Being able to read gave me the opportunity to admire the world’s greatest poems like the Odyssey or Shakespeare’s plays. Personally, my favourite is Macbeth, not only for the history it tells but mostly because of the teaching it shares with us: always choose honesty before power. And I do follow this example even if, in my opinion, a man who lived in the 17th century could have been more kind to the poor, crazy Lady Macbeth. I also like music, in fact, I can play the piano and some instruments with strings. I really enjoy looking at paintings and I know many famous artists but, unfortunately, my hands are not as delicate as yours: I would make a horrible painting if my hands were allowed to touch, even lightly, a brush.” I spoke, hearing her soft giggles coming from the seat she was sat on.

"Such a curious man you are. Please, come here. I would really like your opinion on my painting.” she said, placing the brush in the cup and standing up. I walked forward, brushing my hands on my trousers to take off the humid terrain. I stood behind her, my big frame hovering over her, allowing me to see her canvas. It represented the garden, with those white flowers that lasted all winter and that she seemed to love. The harsh line she angrily painted before was now moulded to resemble a cloud in the sky. I then recognize my figure, almost laid in that carpet of flowers that looked like snow. She did not paint my face, just some light strokes to resemble my lips, nose, eyes and eyebrows.

"Wow…this is…not what I expected, to be honest, but it is a real masterpiece. I believe your hand has a magic touch on this canvas.” I congratulated her, still mesmerized by her talent.

"I hope you do not mind, Shawn, but everything seemed too grey and sad before you came here with your charming, warm smile. I thought I needed to bring the same warmness into my painting, in order to balance the cloudy sky I see every day from this golden prison.” she answered, turning to look at me. I lowered my chin a bit, our eyes intertwined once more while I admired the smile that was gracing on her fine lips.

"I am honoured, Lady Jane.” I said, looking back to the painting. She was too beautiful.

"Just Jane for you, I beg.” she whispered, surprising me with her request. I smiled and nodded, looking back at her and allowing myself to get lost in her beauty once more.

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(Jane’s POV)

“Her Majesty, The Queen of England and His Royal Highness Prince Albert are delighted to announce the Servants’ Christmas Ball in honour of the newborn Princess Victoria. It will take place this Saturday, the 23rd of December in the basement. ” The servants’ supervisor announced. A small smile appeared on my face, my gaze running around the Throne Room and laying on Shawn’s excited face. Our meetings became more frequent: it could be in the gardens, when he delivered letters and spent more time than necessary by my side as I tried to teach him the French technique to use watercolours, or I could play the piano for hours, waiting for him to casually walk by and play with me, hoping no one saw us. We smiled for a few seconds at each other, then I turned to look at the Queen, sat on the throne, happiness and relief surrounding her. She was made for being a Queen. The pregnancy had made her uncomfortable and she felt useless; now she was ready to reign over her kingdom again and what better than a ball to celebrate? She loved balls. I loved balls too.

Returned to our apartments, I dismissed myself from the Duchess and I sat at the small glass table, brush in my hand as I started to draw the dress I would have loved to wear at the party. I was expected to wear the dress the Duchess would have found more suitable for me, but I would have loved to wear a rather simple dress, without all of the elaborated patterns and diamonds. Maybe a plain green dress with a little fine lace on the hem and my favourite pin, the last gift my mom left for me: a pin with an emerald and some small pearls. I hope Shawn would have liked me better in a simple dress. Maybe, if I asked nicely, I could have gotten the dressed I was more pleased to wear.

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(Shawn’s POV)

“Shawn, I believe your ceremony suit does not fit you well enough to be seen by Her Majesty. So I asked my tailor to create a new costume for you, I believe we have the same size. And certainly, I would never want people to deem I do not treat my servants, once in a while.” Lord Alfred declared, handing me the suit.

"Thank you, Sir. I am very grateful for this.” I replied, taking the soft cloth in my hands. I hoped Jane would have found me classy enough to share a dance with me.

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Buckingham Palace, the 23rd of December.

I was thrilled. The basement was decorated with green plants and good perfumes, a small Christmas tree in the corner with small candles to lit it up. I shaved and cleaned as much as I could, trying to be the best version I could be to deserve the company of Jane. I wore the suit, which probably cost as much as three years of my salary, and I was surprised it fitted so good on me. I looked almost…noble.

20 minutes after 19 hours, the trumpets started to play and we all lined up to greet the Queen. She was absolutely gorgeous, indeed, but the woman walking three steps behind her was breathtaking. Jane was wearing a long, green velvet dress, tight around her chest and loose around her hips. A small pin in the middle of the neckline and her hair tied up in a low bun made of a braid, the same white flowers she loved perfectly arranged between her locks.

"Maestro, please.” the Queen said, motioning to the small orchestra. The Head Master took her in his arms as they lead the dance, servants and noble joining them soon after. I walked slowly to the other side of the small living room, standing beside Lord Alfred and Lady Jane.

"Lady Jane, may I have this dance?” Lord Alfred said after a while, offering his hand to the lovely woman near him. She seemed uncomfortable, the Duchess her aunt whispering in her ear, clearly trying to convince her to accept. She was almost nodding, lifting her hand to lay it in my master’s.

"I believe, Sir, this ball is meant to intertwine servants and nobles. It would not be a good image if two nobles danced with each other. I am sure Miss Skerret would be pleased to dance with you, Lord Alfred.” Mister Penge exclaimed, showing my friend Nancy to my master. He nodded, not pleased but not angry, taking Miss Skerret’s hand and going into the dance floor. Mister Penge looked at me slightly, nodding a little in Jane’s direction and walking away to dance with the Queen. I smiled, turning to face Jane.

"Lady Jane, may I lead you to the dance floor?” I asked kindly, stretching my hand for her to take it.

“I would be honoured.” she smiled, placing her soft hand in mine with no hesitation. I squeezed it softly, leading her where the others were dancing and we started waving together, her hand on my shoulder and mine leaned delicately on the upper part of her back.

"I have reason to believe your aunt was not delighted by this ball, My Lady.” I spoke softly, looking at her shining blue eyes. She giggled, hand holding mine a little bit tighter.

"I am sure you are not mistaken, she has not stopped showing her disappointment since the ball was announced. I find it almost disrespectful, it is something the Queen really looked forward too.” She reasoned, her feet guiding mine during the Walzer we were dancing to.

"Was she? I hope she was not the only one.” I replied, distancing myself from her warm body just enough to let her twirl a few seconds, welcoming her back in my arms soon after.

"Indeed, she was not. The whole court is reunited here, tonight. I find this amusing and a good event to lighten everyone’s state of mind.” She laughed, twirling again and ending closer to my chest. We danced for a few minutes, switching partners for the next five dances before I had the chance to address her again.

"Would it be inappropriate if I admitted I missed all of you?” I whispered softly, my hand moving slightly on her back. I knew the corset was probably hurting her, her shoulders tensed and her movements not as smooth as when we danced once, in the dark of the night.

"It would not if I admitted I missed all of you too, certainly.” She smiled, her eyes looking lovely in the Christmas light.

"I wish we could be closer, just like we were when you were getting my horse ready.” She added, her face getting close to my shoulder. I sighed, memories of the time we passed as normal young persons full-filling my head.

"I wish, indeed, but I am afraid this will be the closest we will get to be tonight.”  I replied, my fingers intertwined with her in a desperate attempt to satisfy the need of caress her cheek.

"Maybe I could forget my gloves on the wooden chair I see in the corner, and you would be expected to bring them to me.” Jane suggested, her warm breath caressing my neck, making me shiver.

"It would be a shame, ma’am, if you did not have the chance to wear this morbid gloves again.” I agreed, my thumb brushed softly against the uncovered skin in the middle of her shoulder blades. We stayed silent for the rest of the night, gifting each other with hidden smiles. When the Queen retired, her Ladies-In-Waiting and the rest of the nobles followed her. I stayed with my equals, cleaning until I noticed her small, light green gloves methodically placed on the chair’s seatback. I put them in the pocket of my jacket, breaking a smile as the perfume of my beloved Jane filled my senses. As I finished my duties, I climbed the stairs and patiently wait for Jane to arrive. When she did, she was wearing a dark coat on her nightgown. Her hair was no longer organized in a complicated way, only a simple hair comb to keep it from falling on her face.

"I am sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but I am afraid you may have forgotten your gloves downstairs, after the ball.” I played my role, her small hand wrapping around my wrist and guiding me to a darker hallway.

“Thank you, Shawn. I would have not know what to do with myself if I did not get them back.“ She whispered, her hands brushing against mine to collect the gloves and placing them in her pocket.

"May I have the pleasure? One more dance with you.” I smiled, my arms embracing her tenderly.

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(Jane’s POV)

How could I resist his loving smile? I knew the Duchess was probably waiting for me, but forgetting for a few minutes of who I was and what I was supposed to do sounded too sweet to refuse. I placed my head in the crook of his neck, his warmness feeling familiar.

"You looked..exquisite tonight. But would you mind if I…?” he whispered, his hand coming up and wrapping around my hair comb, extracting it slowly to let my hair fall freely on my shoulders and neck.

"I love seeing you..unbounded. Less like a Lady, more like a beautiful, young woman.” Shawn explained, his fingers brushing sweetly against my cheekbone, moving my messy hair to reveal more naked skin. I smiled shyly as he started to hum a slow harmony, his head lowering to caress my neck and my cheekbones with the soft curve of his rosy lips. I closed my eyes, his fingers moving more hair behind my ears, his kisses coming to my cheek. I opened my eyes again, uncertain if I would enjoy more this moment blind or not, only to find his brown eyes already staring at me with a glimpse of hope and tenderness.

"My beloved Jane…I wish I could be the man for you, and we both know I am not. But for tonight, I want to forget and just be a boy in love with a girl.” he whispered, his breath warm on me. I smiled in disbelief.

“You love me?” I questioned, my hand lifting to twist the lonely curl who fell on his forehead around my small finger. He took my free, and for once naked, hand in his, kneeling to the ground and kissing it in a slightly way.

“How could I not, my angel? Your skin is like silk under my callous finger, giving them rest after a rough day. Your eyes are always so full of admiration when I speak about music and art, even if I am just a valet. Your hair, blonde as the grain of August and perfumed like the flowers you adore. And your lips, my love…” he said, standing back on his feet and taking my face in his hands “…your lips look just like my deepest desire, the one I try to hold back so fiercely.” he murmured, his nose stroking lovely against mine.

“Please, my dear…do not hold it back. You are my only wish.” I replied. He smiled brightly at my words, nodding before pressing his lips on mine. A slow, uncertain kiss at first and a passionate embrace then, his arms closing around me and mine tugging kindly at the hair at the base of his neck. The humid sound of our lips parting and reconnecting was the only one filling the air as his tongue tapped gently against my lower lip, begging to meet mine and to capture it in a dance as sweet as the one who concerned us before. As we parted one last time, the midnight bells ringing in distance, he pressed a kiss on my forehead guiding my hands to rest over his strong chest to feel the fast beat of his heart.

Masterlist

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Mobbing (Angst!Shawn and Fan!Reader- Cute!Shawn)

2,2k words. It refers to what happened this week at the airport. It was supposed to be an angst but Lost In Japan music video made me soft so it turned out to be a cute blurb at the end. Also, it took me too long to finish it but I’ve been super busy with school lately, but here it is for you to read it! For those of you who don’t know, Y/S/N stands for your sister’s name.

Anyway enjoy and please leave feedback.

Love you,

B

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(Shawn’s POV)

I was dead tired after a five-hour long flight. That festival run had been the best and funniest of my life. I played new music all over the world with my amazing team by my side and we reserved enough time to visit the cities we went to. I even got to film the Youtube documentary with Casey! For sure, that months had been particularly productive not only for my career but also for me as a person, since I got to play on stage with some of my role models as Justin Timberlake. But that run had been stressful too: a full-time schedule, packed with early morning flights and long rides on the tour bus. I was delighted to be back home: I could spend time with my family, maybe watching a film with Aaliyah, go out for a beer with my friends and have some me-time to write down all the new melodies and lyrics that were buzzing in my head.

I knew I’d be in a danger-zone after passing through the sliding doors since Jack took a different flight to go home, and I also knew I should have expected a group of fans waiting for me. I felt the stress clinging to my throat as soon as I noticed a large group of people, holding their phones out to take pictures. I made my way to them, a small but tired smile on my lips to greet them; as soon as they were around me, I made clear that I was tired and I needed to be fast because my Uber was waiting for me.

“Hey, Shawn! Over here please, take a picture” one asks. I approached her and smiled to the camera, leaving behind me some other usuals fans who already had hundreds of pictures with me.

“How are you feeling, Shawn?” asked another one, not really interested in listening to my answer while he was shoving his phone in front of us to take a selfie. I sighed again, feeling my head getting heavier just like my eyelids. A constant hammer in my head, amplificated by the too many voices that were calling out for me.

“A little bit stressed, thank you. Guys, I’m sorry but I should really go now, I need to go back home” I said, looking around to count how many people were waiting to meet me. Too many. They were too many and I was alone. Suddenly my throat dried out and it became hard to breath. I started to count down from 30 in my head, looking desperately around to find a safety zone or a guard who could help me. No one came to help though, anyone minding their own business. I held my breath for a few seconds, my brain slowing down a bit and I started to feel like I was underwater. I came up when a hand started to shake not so gently my right arm.

“Shawn! please, can you say hi to my friend Jess?”

“You really aren’t listening, my car is waiting outside and I have to go” I explained again, trying to make my way to the door.

“We’ll come out with you, no problem” said a guy, following me and taking a video. I looked around, noticing that the now smaller crowd was moving to follow me, and I realized there were a few girls arguing in the background, two of them trying to come closer to me. I didn���t bother to understand what were they quarrelling about, to be honest. I couldn’t even walk since every step I took was followed by the millionth selfie. “Guys, please. I’m exhausted” I sighed as soon as a small figure appeared in my visual, thinking I was in for a new round of pictures.

(Y/N’s POV)

I couldn’t stand in that mess any longer, knowing Shawn was having troubles breathing. It was obvious that he was uncomfortable, though no one seemed to care.

“Y/N, please, I want a picture with him” please my little sister but I shook my head for the third time.

“Sweetheart, do you see him? He’s not feeling good, we need to give him some space. I promise you you’ll get your picture another time when he’ll be more relaxed, and maybe we’ll have a small chat with him too okay?” I replied sweetly since she was still too young to understand what anxiety was. She just wanted a picture with her idol and I couldn’t blame her for that, however, I needed to protect her from that crazy crowd. So I did the only thing that seemed reasonable at the moment to defend her: I grabbed my sister’s little hand and started to move toward the sliding doors. We were almost out, Y/S/N whining a little, when Shawn’s panicked voice, asking for help, stopped my movements. I sighed and went back, trying to talk to some of the fans to make them go away but, as expected, they didn’t listen. I had already noticed the Uber driver waiting eagerly on the street and I knew he wasn’t going to wait any longer. Frustrated, I tighten the grip on my sister’s hand and did the only thing that seemed reasonable to save the pop star from passing out in front of everyone: I made my way through the crowd, receiving many insults and bumps in the meantime. Once I was by the man’s side, I placed my sister between us: his body was towering over mine but I knew this big man was feeling like insignificant and helpless. I started to speak but no one seemed to listen, trying to push me away from him to get more shots; so I raised my voice, standing proudly on the tiptoes.

“Everyone, listen. You’re not helping Shawn right now: he’s tired but he’s also too polite to ask you to leave him alone. You all know he loves you and that he’s grateful, you don’t need more pictures. Also because you aren’t even trying to make small conversations, you just want pictures to post on your Instagram. Most of you have already met Shawn for, at least, ten times, we all know you come here for him every single time. If you really care, let him go home. He’s dead tired but you’re too selfish to see it” I tried to reason with them, but there was no way they were interested in what I was trying to explain.

“Oh, fuck off. You know what? Y/S/N, take Shawn’s bag, sweetheart.  We’ll escort him to the car” I told my sister, grabbing her free hand again but also taking Shawn’s wrist in the other one. I couldn’t decide if he was too tired or too traumatized to move or say anything, probably both, so he just followed silently. I pushed a few people, not really kindly, and the three of us finally arrived at the car, fresh air crashing on my face.

“There you go” I released a sight, kissing the top of my sister’s hair. We were finally out but she was shaking a bit, probably afraid from the number of people that surrounded us.

“Thank you, really. I didn’t know what else to do. Can I do something for you? Maybe take a picture with this little lady?” he thanked politely, kneeling a bit to look into my sister’s eyes. She was almost nodding, but I didn’t want to be incoherent. He really needed to go home and, for sure, he wasn’t in the mood to take other pictures. Neither was I or the taxi driver.

“We’re good, thanks. Maybe we’ll see you another time and we’ll take a picture when you’ll look better. We want a handsome picture, don’t we?” I answered, brushing Y/S/N’s hair while her sleeping face nodded at me.

“Yeah, I don’t want you to have bags under your eyes. I get only one picture and it must be perfect!” she explained, nodding convinced to her speech. Shawn and I both laughed.

“Alright then, thank you again. I would have stayed there another thirty minutes if it wasn’t for you” he admitted, quickly embracing the small, warm body that was resting against mine.

“You know you should have raised your voice when they weren’t listening. They don’t deserve your kindness if they don’t show you some respect. You were almost having a panic attack in there, I recognize one when I see it. You’re lucky I’m a strong woman accompanied by an even stronger princess and we got to save our prince, didn’t we?” I laughed a bit at it, trying to ease the situation. I had been a little too direct, but he needed to hear those words in order to make something the next time.

“Yes, we had been princesses in shining armours” her childish voice said proudly.

“You really had, misses. And, yes, I guess the next time I won’t let it happen but you know, I owe them everything, from my career to the food I place on the table so I don’t really feel like treating them harshly” He replied to me, closing the boot and opening his car door. He placed the backpack inside and looked at us for the last time.

“Thank you, again. I owe you an ice cream and a handsome picture, right?” he smiled, visibly relieved once he realized he was finally going home. The group of fans coming closer to the car after escaping from the security guard’s attention.

“Sure. Goodnight” I smiled, lifting my sleepy sister into my arms and making my way to our car. I felt her little arm shaking, sign that she was waving at him. Once small giggles fell from her lips, I knew he waved back.

“See? Most of the time, small talks are nicer than pictures” I stated, placing her small frame in the back seat and buckling her up. She nodded happily, hugging her small teddy bear. I started to drive, thinking about Shawn’s difficult celebrity-life. it all looked shining and perfect, with sparkling dressed, music awards and famous people. I knew it was an idyllic vision of fame: when the curtain closes, the audience can’t see the dark part of it, all the anxiety and pressure accompanied by tears and long lists of duties and public images to maintain.

Later that night, as I was lying in my comfy and warm bed, I found out that I was a “celebrity” too: videos of me yelling at the centre of the airport were circulating all over the internet, everyone wondering where this “mysterious girl” was coming from. I breathed out a long suspire, ready to turn off my phone when a Twitter notification arrived on the profile I created for Y/S/N to remain updated on Shawn’s career:

@shawnmendes: what happened tonight at the airport really made me sad and uncomfortable. I’d like to believe you didn’t notice that I wasn’t feeling good, because I couldn’t explain otherwise your lack of attention in my regards.

@shawnmendes: please, I don’t know who the girl was but for respect of her and her little sister, do not look for her name. I’m taking a break from social media for a while, I’ll come back with great news. xx

(a few days after)

I was almost at the end of my shift, preparing a chocolate milkshake a client just ordered while I was happily humming a tune I’ve heard on the radio on the way to the ice cream shop. I turned around, sinking a black strawn in the soft foam and handling the cup to the girl standing in front of me.

“There you go, enjoy and have a good day” I smiled, turning around to clean the counter once the couple was out of the shop.

“When I said I owed you an ice cream, I didn’t know you were supposed to make it” a familiar but lazy voice said, followed by a giggle. I turned again to face the person that was speaking to me and I felt my heart melt. There he was, in cosy clothes, with a serene but jet-lagged caused sleeping expression defying his soft features. I giggled in response and nodded slightly.

“Yeah, but I’ll be out in five if you wanna go somewhere else” I smiled, starting to untie the knot that was holding close the uniform’s blue apron.

“Actually, I’d like to stay here and try all of your flavours. Its a dream of mine so, please, make it happen” he joked, pouting with his full, pink lips.

“I’m here for it, but you have to help me to close the shop in order to repair the damage you’re gonna make to our ice cream’s reserve” I laughed, pulling inside all the chairs and tables that were placed outside.

“Okay, I’m in” he smiled, really giving me a hand even if I wasn’t serious when I asked for help.

We laughed for the whole evening, and I’m not sure if, in the end, my heart dropped because of too much sugar or if it was for the cheesy, childish kiss he left on my cheek after he walked me to my car. I could have died straight away but I couldn’t have been any happier.

Masterlist

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Why have I been laughing at this for a solid 5 minutes?

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Behave.

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Okay guys, I’ve decided to keep only one blog where I’ll write my imagines but where I’ll also reblog and have conversations and stuff. So please follow @imfreefallinall because it will be my only blog soon!

Love you! B