#sinplisticshawn

[kerwritesthings]

babysitting yalls niece/nephew together -sinplisticshawn

So, @sinplisticshawn - totally fitting that you sent this after I posted this one introducing their niece, Natalia. Was a fun, easy one to jump into. Hope you like it!!

“Dee, we’re going to be fine, really,” you say, bouncing Natalia in your arms, the girl giving you nothing but smiles. “See, look at that happy face.”

“Are you sure? Like really?” Didi asks nervously as she shrugs into her coat.

“Please go have dinner with your husband, we got this,” Shawn chimes in from behind you, making silly faces at your niece. “She’s good, we’re good. You guys go enjoy a dinner that doesn’t involved pureed green beans and those weird yogurt cereal puffs she’s obsessed with lately. It’s getting her in the bath and putting her down. I think we can easily handle that.”

“And by that, he means he can’t wait to sing her to sleep, you know that Dee. Go meet Tomas, have dinner, grab a drink. Let us have some time with Tali,” you say as the baby reaches for Shawn’s hair and babbles wildly as her hands sink into his curls.

“C’mere silly girl, let’s go figure out what to do while Mommy is out with Daddy,” he sing-songs to Natalia, taking her from your grasp. “Didi. I love you but get the h-e-l-l out of here.”

You pull Didi into a firm hug. “I get it, but you guys have not had a night out alone in ages. It’s dinner and a nightcap. You two deserve a kid free evening. And it’s us. You have nothing to worry about. We love her like blood, Dee.”

Didi sighs and shoulders slump, leaning more into your embrace. “I wouldn’t even be considering this if it wasn’t you two here, which thank you for giving up one of your nights in the city to do this.”

“Please, I’m glad we can do this for y’all. Not to mention it’s been too long since I’ve had some Natalia love. Now, go meet your husband. Have a spiked decaf espresso at the end of the night. Enjoy yourselves,” you explain, nudging her towards the door.

Once Didi is on her way, you wander back into their living room where you find Natalia perched on Shawn’s lap. He’s back to making silly faces and blowing raspberries at her. She’s got her eyes fixed to him, little hands against his cheeks, smiling and giggling like you’ve not heard her before.

“She is literally the happiest baby I’ve ever seen,” he replies between shifting faces as you sit next to them on the couch. “Every single time we’ve been around her. She must really like us, eh?”

“Don’t jinx it,” you chide, poking Natalia’s tummy. “You ready to get bubbly little girl?”

She leans over from his grasp to kiss your nose, “I’ll take that as a yes then. I’ll go get the bath all set up, Dee left us the Blooming Bath so we can just use the kitchen sink, don’t have to go through the whole production of the bath setup that Tomas loves using with her. Gimme 10 then bring her in.”

You kiss the baby’s head then his before skirting off to Natalia’s room and the bathroom to get all you’ll need. It was easy to set up the bath, the petal keeping a perfect space to hold her in place while turning the kitchen sink into an adorable little bathtub. Using the sleepytime bath that Didi has said helps Natalia at night, you get the water set, bubbles and tiny little duckie included. As you lay out the towel and her lotion, you call the two of them in.

“You ready for splish splash, Natalia?” you say dipping her feet into the sink, smiles and giggles abound again. He helps you slip off her onesie before easing her into the water.

“Ok this is the coolest thing. We’ll need to remember this,” he pokes at one of the petals of the flower in the sink. “Time to clean you up little miss.”

You take turns holding and bathing her as she splashes about. Fascinated with the bubbles, her little purple duckie and basically anything that comes into the water, she is as good as good could be. Until she wasn’t. Everything was going well until you pull her out of the water, drying her off and slathering her in lotion. It wasn’t until after you get her diaper on and you tuck her into her hooded duckie bathrobe towel did she start to have what is her version of a meltdown.

“I told you not to jinx it,” you whisper as Natalia fusses, not crying but whimpering and unhappy as you head towards her room. She keeps wiggling in your hold trying to get her face onto any piece of skin she can get access to while trying to shed her hooded towel.

“Wait, lemme try something,” he responds, shedding his shirt quickly before settling into the glider. “Come here Tali girl.”

Her eyes go wide hearing his voice and she leans out of your grasp towards him, still whimpering. You ease Natalia into his arms. He pulls the duckie towel off and she immediately leans into his chest, her head falling into the crook of his neck, one hand immediately winding around his silver chain. He trails his hand up and down her back humming to her, the whines and fussing easing out. Humming has turned into singing because of course it does with him. He’s rocking lightly, his hand looking so large rubbing against her tiny back.

“Are you really singing Never Be Alone into and Little Too Much to our niece?” you whisper, not wanting to disturb the peace.

“She likes it,” he smiles, leaning down to dust a kiss against the wisps of hair on her head. “I think she’s just about out. See, her hand is just about to drop off my necklace. Let’s just put her down like this, throw the little knit blanket over her. I don’t think she’s about clothes tonight.”

He carefully gets up and sets her down into the crib, covering her carefully. She stirs a little and he rubs at her back immediately, humming again. She nuzzles against the sheet and sighs, settling down immediately. You wrap yourself around his back, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades before leaning around to look at Natalia.

“It’s amazing, you know. How much she’s taken to you. She loves you so much already,” you murmur, leaning into him. “You’re so good with her. I don’t think you realize how much it means to me that you’re important to her and vice versa. It’s, it’s so special. She’s my niece in every way it really matters. And its shades of what I get to expect when this is us, and we’ve got our own little one.”

He shifts you so he can pull you into his chest, his skin warm against your cheek. “Even if she wasn’t our goddaughter, she’s a special little girl to you. She’s a little ball of sunshine. It would be hard not to love her. Plus, she’s a fan of my singing to her.”

He tilts your head up to lock eyes with you, cupping your cheeks in his palms to have his thumbs shift against your skin. “There’s no one else I’d want to do this with, baby. I couldn’t be a daddy without you as a mommy. You know that right? Me and you, always. Until we add a three.”

You push up on your toes to kiss him. “Love you so damn much, Shawn. Come on, let’s let the little miss sleep. And we need to get you back into your shirt. Dee and Tomas can’t come back to all this on display. I won’t hear the end of it, they’ll think we were naughty on their couch.”

“We have time, we could be!”

[suchalilyofthevalley]

hi ily drunk ass 10, 15, 25, 34, 63, 66, 79, 95 -sinplisticshawn

10.  FuckMarryKill - DJ Khalid, Rick Ross, Fat Joe: this is unfair and I’m mad at you. Marry DJ Khalid, Kill Fat Joe (for so many reasons I just cannot even talk about), Fuck Rick Ross

15.  Would you ever be part of the mile-high club? Totally, but like it would have to be baller private jet shit, none of this economy nonsense. 

25. see previous!

34.  What’s your favorite sex position? spooning, with riding a very, very close second

63.  Name 3 turn-ons. I’m a damn sucker for pretty eyes and a good smile, they kind of go hand in hand to me as one thing. Well-spoken/intelligent. It’s a toss between can you make me smile, like that true happy nose scrunch eyes squinty smile when I’m really feeling happy and something as simple as manners. 

66.  Would you answer a phone call during sex? Nope. (I also read this wrong at first and thought it was about phone sex. Oops. Imma keep drinking...)

79.  Sex with the lights on or off? Honestly all depends, I’m not about one extreme or the other, gimme a little light with some shadows. 

95. see previous!

[lonelyreputation]

@sinplisticshawn the way my heart went 💞💓💖💞💓💖💞💓💖 when I logged on to see all your feedback 🥺🥺

THANK YOU!! I AM GIVING YOU A VERY BIG VIRTUAL HUG RIGHT NOW!!!

C’est Toi (coffee shop au) • PROLOGUE, wc: 1.4k

Wednesday - January 02, 2019 - 18:31

There’s a lot of people watching at an airport.  The thought always crosses my mind––who is returning from a trip?  Did they enjoy it?  Or are they dreading returning home?Who just left the comfort of their own home? Are they sad?  Elated?  Well, I guess that’s more than just one thought.  I still have an hour until my flight.  Why is it required to be at the airport hours before an international flight?  Just another thought to tack on.

“Oh, sweetie,” McLane’s mother wrapped her arms tightly around her daughter, “I cannot believe you’re off for another semester!”

McLane let out a breathy laugh, squeezing her eyes as tight as her mother’s hug as to not let any tears spill over, “Yeah,” it was a weak response, McLane knew it, but she didn’t want to cry during her send off, she promised herself she wouldn’t cry, “another.”

Easing her way out of the hug, McLane’s mom held her daughter away at arms length, with her hands softly rubbing her shoulders, “London, oh goodness, how’d you manage to convince us on that, Mick?”

Keep reading

[smallerinfinities]

smallerinfinities --> hawkethrone

well I’m finally doing it. I’ve been using smallerinfinities for almost three years but I think it’s time for a change, my friends. I’ll look out for broken links on my masterlist and make sure they work by the weekend. signal boost if you wish. 

tagging some mutuals: @harryandmolly @siennarossi @suchalilyofthevalley @illumecherry @shawnsmusical @shawnsmoose @sinplisticshawn @belladonnatroy @ijustreallylikeshawnokay @singanddreamanyway @charliebattinson @sippingchai @wannafallinlovexo @lifeofthedarty @losfacedevil @helloooitsme @queenestarcheron @rhaenystargaryn @mydarlingrhys @allthingswildareshy

look @kierancontou we match! 

[2018shawn]

63 and 84 for shawn from the prompt list!!

63. “You look so hot I could fuck you senseless right now.”

84. “Mine. Only mine.”

i’d already got the 63 prompt once, which you can find here, so this one i tried to make a little more fun and light hearted hence why there’s like no smut lol i just would hate for things to be repetitive, i’m sorry if it’s disappointing lmao

young adults scattered across the front lawn, no concern for neighbors or people passing by. from the state of the house, which was covered in plastic cups and what looked like liquid all over the floor, you was glad you decided to skip on the invite. shawn however did not, meaning he was somewhere lost inside probably necking yet another shot and following it up with a beer or cocktail of whatever-the-fuck-he-could-find-mojito. thst was all until brian rang you, frantically begging you to come pick up the curly haired boy who had drunk far too much, and mixed with his emotions of exhaustion, it was turning into a complete nightmare.

you cursed to yourself, giving yourself an extra few minutes until you had to get out of the car and walk into the house full of people in your cosiest pyjamas and baggiest hoodie. the hoodie was shawn’s, of course. just as you was about to lose hope, shawn’s tall frame stumbled out of the front door, a beaming smile on his face and you could hear his laugh through the crack in your window. he recovered from his (more than likely) lame ass joke and his head snapped up and eyes squinted when he saw your car parked outside, his smile growing even wider when he realised it was in fact you, and not his imagination.

brian tried to steady his friend, shawn’s arm previously around his shoulder and brians arm around his waist. but when he clocked you, the both of you knew it was game over.

shawn sprinted up to the car, legs almost out of control as he barely came to a stop when he reached the passenger door. he bent down, quite a bit, head peeping into the open window whilst flashing his pop star smile and you rolled your eyes, restarting the car before he changed his mind and ran back into the party. “get in, loser.”

he nodded and instantly obeyed, yanking open the door, almost so hard it pulled off its hinges. “we’re going shopping.” he quoted his favourite guilty movie and you almost cracked a smile, almost.  

“how was the party?” you asked, sending brian a wave of confirmation that shawn was safe and pulling away from the curb-side and putting his window up, because he’s the type of drunk to think it’s funny to hang out of the window like a dog. 

“stooooopid without you.”

he’d been in your presence less than five minutes and you’d already rolled your eyes twice. and now another. “had things to do. and it seems like you managed just fine with me.” 

the street lights were the only thing keeping his face visible, and he studied how the beams of light fell across your soft features and how naturally beautiful you looked, even if he had dragged you out at 1am to come pick him up. he traced every inch of your face, smiling at the familiar freckles and and slope of your nose and your - “yes?”

“you look so hot i could fuck you sensless right now.” he blurted.

your foot slammed on the breaks and thankfully, no one was behind you as you did so. he almost hurled into the glove compartment in front of him but thank god he’d always been taught safety first and had buckled himself in - it took a while, but he did it in the end. “what the fuck?!”

“you can’t just blurt things like that!” you screamed back. you and shawn had been the best of friends since you can remember, but only recently has he started acting like a horny teenage whenever you wear a pair of shorts a little higher cut than normal. or when your top dropped a little too low on the chest, revealing a little more than intended. the comments hadn’t gone unnoticed, but you’d be lying if you said they didn’t make you feel all fuzzy and nervous. 

“drunk words speak sober thoughts, y/n.” he smirked, tapping his index finger to his temple as if he’d just spoken a million words of wisdom.

“no shawn, drunk words speak stupid thoughts.” you corrected, putting your foot on the accelerator again to put the car back in motion. he defended himself down the next few roads, blabbing on how much having you in his life is one of life’s greatest gifts. even if he has found it hard to contain how attractive he finds you.

“so why are you only just saying this now?” you knew it was drunken words. that he could have possibly any girl on the planet so why would he want the girl he’d seen in the worst states possible? he just couldn’t.

he looked down to his lap, thumbs twirling around one another as he fiddled through the awkwardness. “because some guy - at the party - mentioned how hot you were and i thought no. you’re mine, only mine.”

shawn was too lost in confessing his feelings for you, he hadn’t noticed you pulling into the twenty-four hour drive thru, stopping at the large, illuminated menu board before continuing to the speaker. “eat. sober up. then we can see about me being yours. only yours.”

shawn taglist: @imaginashawnns @fallinallincurls @mendesficsxbombay @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @fallinfortom @sinplisticshawn

[harryandmolly]

Oh hi!

Hey there! Missed you.

I’m getting ready to post the first chapter of my new series, Fear and Loathing in Mandeville Canyon.

It’s different for me. For one thing, I’m not working off an outline. This story kind of came up and bit me in the ass so I’m just letting it do what it wants. I don’t think it will be very long but I’m not ready to estimate yet how many parts.

It’s also a bit dark. It grew out of a highly personal, very angry one shot I wrote several months ago. Not trigger warning dark, but not as dreamy as my usual fare. But, if you know me, you know I’m in the business of happy endings. That hasn’t changed.

You’re going to recognize these characters. This is sort of an AU spin off? It splits from canon. I don’t think it’s especially important to know exactly where but I’m happy to talk through theories or specifics if you really want to get in my head (lol u will need a flashlight).

Lastly, thank you. I’m a writer, I will always write, but the reason I feel the need to share it here is because of you and your unyielding support. You’re great and I hope you like it. 

Tagging my general taglist:

@smallerinfinities @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn @infiniteshawn @mendesoft @singanddreamanyway @alone-in-madness @abigfatmess @shawnitsmutual @awkwardfangirl2014 @september-lace @sinplisticshawn @rollingxstone @randi-eve @fallmoreinlove @heyits-claire @itrocksmysocks @parkerspicedlatte @simpledomain @abeautiful-and-cloudy-day @thecurlsofgod @magcon7280 @bensbuttercup @shawnsmusical @paigeasourous @tell-me-when-ur-ready @softmendesss @searchingunderthestars @buggy-blogs @mendesficsxbombay @siennarossi @lostinshawnsmemory @umbreakablesoul @sleepybesson @shawnsheaven

[egoludes]

issa 2k challenge masterlist.

hi, everyone ---- it’s been a little while coming, but here is the masterlist for my writing challenge that wrapped up at the beginning of the year! thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone that reblogged, liked, or participated. it was so much fun putting this together and seeing what you talented people did with these prompts. i look forward to doing this again in the future!

reminder: if you snagged a prompt but haven’t posted it yet, you can still submit entries - just make sure you tag me in it! and if i am missing your piece from the list, please message it to me. :)

HARRY STYLES.

nostalgia by @stylishmuser​ // prompt: “who told you i would be here?”

NIALL HORAN.

suite surprises by @fireawaynjh (deactivated unfortunately but still wanted to show appreciation!) // prompts: “you’re gonna have to speak up if you want this to go somewhere.”

hold me by @thicksniall​ // prompts: neighbors au & hold me while you wait by lewis capaldi

SHAWN MENDES.

pink walls by @theshawnmendesstorycollection // prompts: single parent au & “you’re gonna have to speak up if you want this to go somewhere.”

kiss me by @rainbowshawn​ // prompts: “stop being so dramatic!” & friends to lovers au

get your kicks by @sinplisticshawn​ // prompts: road trip au

nervous energy by @heartopen-testify​ // prompts: “you’re really bad at this, huh?”

lost in space by @iconicharry​ // prompts: space au & “you promised me.”

e’caduto sceso dal cielo by @sabrinasweetner​ // prompts: fallen angel / guardian angel au & “that’s bullshit and you know it”

playing it cool by @mendeshoney​ // prompts: fake dating au & cool girl by tove lo

BUCKY BARNES.

from eden by @heartopen-testify​ // prompts: from eden by hozier & “you can’t do this to me.”

[shawnsorangeglasses]

I AM FINALLY PROOFREADING THE FINAL PRODUCT OF THE OPPOSITION JFC I FINISHED SOMETHING

get ready. here’s the current taglist. ask me if you’re new and you would like to be added.

@tnhmblive @rulerofnocountry @matchamendes @damselindistressanu @gxccicoffee @yoelleex @5-seconds-of-mendes @darling-shawn @imaginesofdreams @nervousaroundmendes @hiyabich @sinplisticshawn @peterbrokenparker @sauveteen @allaboutthatdrummer @particularnarry @shawnwyr @1am9root @justanotherfangurl272 @imbjapan @shawnsblue @jonathanpinecannightmanageme @angl-phile

[kerwritesthings]

5 and 33 pls (ps hiiiiii hun i love you) -sinplisticshawn

This was so much fun to write. I hope you like this as much as I do. A little bit of a thank you for being such a dear!

Prompts: “I cooked it just for you!” AND slow dancing

Sunday mornings are normally the one morning a week where you get to both sleep in, you try to make a point of it. Waking up with him those mornings are a luxury you look forward to. Sometimes it’s him nuzzling into your neck that makes you rouse from sleep, others it’s finding his head between your legs mouthing at the soft skin of your thighs, then it’s possible you’re nipping at his chest or slipping him, already half hard from a night pressed up against your ass, between your lips. This Sunday however, you only find slightly warmed sheets and no Shawn. 

Slipping the grey sweater he tossed at the end of the bed last night over your shoulders, you wander out to find where he’s gone off to. Checking the bathroom, the shower is empty; but this allows you to brush your teeth and wash your face quickly. The balcony off the bedroom is still. His studio is quiet. You finally make it out to the living room and hear him humming from the kitchen. Kettle is going on the stovetop; two ceramic teapots are sitting on the side counter with lids open with mugs nearby. You smell something cakey and slightly chocolatey, but you’re not sure what or where it’s coming from.

“Alexa, play my Sunday morning slowdown playlist on shuffle from Apple Music,” he calls out as he reaches into the pantry, pulling out what looks to be a jar of dulce. You try to bite back a giggle but letting a small one escape. Ever since Valentine’s Day, he’s been finding ways to sneak the sweet treat in. You were louder than you thought, because he turns around and spots you.

“So much for surprising you with breakfast in bed,” he smiles, coming to snag you by the hip to pull you into him. “Good morning sunshine.”

“Bed was empty, was not a fan of that Shawn,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss him gently.

“I was going to come wake you up with an orgasm and your favorite waffles, but…” he begins to explain, but you cut him off with another kiss, this one a bit dirtier.

“Do we have time?” you request, eyes wide and wicked.

“This is the reaction I get? I cooked just for you! And you’re jonesing to come instead?” he feigns in mock offense.

You lean in, taking a swipe at his collarbone with your tongue, “What of it?”

“Baby, chocolate chip waffles are done, bacon too, all of that’s in the oven. Plus, the water’s almost boiled. I’d say yes, but it would be rushed and I’m not about that. Not today,” he replies, hands sliding from your hips to grab your ass from under his sweater while he mouths at your bare shoulder, nipping the skin ever so slightly. “I do like you in my clothes though.”

You yelp, not expecting his mouth like that, and he moves up to kiss you again.

“We do have time, however, for a quick spin around the room. May I have this dance, my dear?” he asks.

You nod, with a grin. He slides you into a closer hold and starts dancing you around the kitchen island, singing along to the music. Every so often, he’d dust a kiss somewhere, all while smiling wide. This just may be your new favorite way to spend Sunday mornings with him.

[suchalilyofthevalley]

I got tagged by @smallerinfinities because she’s fab and I think she likes calling me out for my choices. Thanks Alex lol.

So, I need to post my lockscreen, the last song I listened to, and the last photo I saved in my camera roll.

Tagging @sinplisticshawn @itrocksmysocks @fallinallincurls @suzteel

[lonelyreputation]

Mick only gets worse...it gets a lot worse for her... 🤦🏼‍♀️

C’est Toi (coffee shop au) • CHAPTER ONE, wc: 4.7k

previous chapter | let’s chat!

Thursday - January 03, 2019 - 21:05

Landing in Heathrow was something else.  Everyone was in a hustle to get to their desired destination.  It was exhilarating.  But what was even more exhilarating was the drive from Heathrow to King’s College.  Everything was so…breathtaking.  Even the houses along the M4 fascinated me to no end.  The roads all blended together––I have no idea how I’ll remember anything about getting around––I felt like we were driving in circles.  I was pressed up against the window of the car, not wanting to miss a single detail of this new place I’d be calling home.

—

“McLane Roberts?”  I said my own name with hesitation as I grimaced, “I–��uh––I’m a study abroad student––but on an exchange program––I’m from America––I don’t know whose place I’m taking––but––I––I’m supposed to be here,” I squinted my left eye, “I––right?”

The two student resident advisors who were checking in students looked bewildered at my uncertainty.  Or my American accent.  Hopefully it was the latter.  The one resident advisor––Sophia––had her mouth slightly agape and eyes wide as saucers.  The other––Georgia––had her eyebrows up so high they were hidden beneath her bangs.  Georgia’s pen fell from her grasp.

Oh God, I thought, they’re going to deport me.

Keep reading

[smallerinfinities]

i am v late and was tagged in some form of this by the lovelies @siennarossi @stateoffelicity and @sinplisticshawn

favorite color: chartreuse 

last song: Canyon Moon by Harry Styles

last movie: Constantine (A FAVE for October)

last show (completed): oh god....uhm....The Politician? months ago?

currently reading: finishing up 13 Little Blue Envelopes by Maureen Johnson and then starting From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout 

currently watching: rewatching The Mandalorian before new season with my baby!

tea or coffee: coffee if I have to...but I actually get caffeine from Coke Zero most of the time...I feel like this is a thing more prevalent in the south? idk 

since I’m so late...literally everyone has done this so I’m SOL on tags

[2018shawn]

hi! i just started looking into your writing and i love it!!!! i need to sit down and properly read and reblog instead of just skimming it but from the lil snippets i’ve seen, it’s so good. can i be added to your shawn taglist?? -sinplisticshawn

owwwwh tysm 🥺🥺🥺🥺 yes of course my darling, thank you!!! 💓💓💓

[harryandmolly]

Mr. Right

summary: it’s Lilly and Shawn being exactly like you’d expect(ing) them to be

warnings: language, Mutual Stubbornness (TM), willpower for a good cause

WC: 1.6k

Shawn’s eyes open slowly and all he sees is gold. He closes them again, feels the strands of it cling to his eyelashes. He smiles around panting breaths and murmurs from deep in his throat.

“Think we just made a baby.”

His voice is a low grunt into Lilly’s shoulder. Her hips have just stilled after rocking him through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He’s lying behind her, warm and heavy and every ounce of him comfort in human form. The arm that rests around her torso tightens and it reminds her to speak.

“Think so?”

He nods, freeing his sweaty pink face from her hair, using his nose to smooth it away from the back of her neck. He wets his lips and lets them graze where he pleases.

“I can feel it. Can’t you feel it?”

She loves this part of him, these little pieces of magic he chases after sometimes. Other people might not find them quite so charming -- maybe they’d be immature or foolish, but Shawn and Lilly are storytellers in their souls. They chase magic wherever they can sense it.

“I dunno, I just know I want it,” she says.

He shakes his head stubbornly. “We just made our baby, Lill. I’m telling you.”

Lilly grins, easing her hips away. They release each other’s bodies with reluctant sighs. She rolls over and plants herself on his chest, chin on his sternum, legs between his.

“You are awfully confident in your abilities there, mister. You must think you fucked me real good.”

Shawn smirks. “If you got pregnant every time I fucked you good, we’d have a lot more kids now.”

Lilly laughs, loud and delighted. Shawn tucks hair behind her ear and laughs along with her because that’s what he does when his wife laughs. It’s one of her gifts to him everyday.

“In a month we’ll know if I’m right,” he presses, determined suddenly to be the baby oracle. Lilly rolls her eyes.

“We won’t know which time actually did it.”

The cogs of his big weird mind start turning. Lilly almost winces.

“We could. We haven’t had sex in a month because of the festivals.”

Lilly narrows her eyes and finishes his thought. “We’d have to stop having sex until after my next period. And longer, really, to be totally sure.”

Shawn nods blankly like that’s a-ok. Lilly sneers.

“You want to go weeks without fucking me just to prove this theory you have no reason to believe is true?”

This particular magic chase is no longer cute at all.

Ever determined, ever ridiculous, he nods eagerly, licking his lips and widening his eyes as he prepares to launch into Shawn Logic. Lilly locks her jaw and shuts down.

“Baby, it’s not that long. You’ll see. I’m gone for some of that time anyway. I’m telling you, we have a baby. We’re pregnant.”

Lilly’s eyes roll so hard she’s worried they’ll fall up into her head. “First of all, I hate it when people say “they’re” pregnant. You’re not pregnant, Shawn. You won’t have a precious little parasite squeezing out of you in nine months.”

Shawn is undeterred, smiling that eye-crinkling, chin-dimpling smile that makes her knees weak somehow even when she’s lying on top of him.

“But you will.”

From that night, he’s fixated. It’s all she can do to keep him from actually telling people. He tells Brian, though, before she can catch him and scold him. Brian’s hoping for a little boy.

Lilly gives him a week before he cracks. I mean, what’s he going to do? Jerk off in a sock while his perfectly lovely wife lies next to him in bed? No. This won’t go on, not more than a week. Maybe two if he’s really being a stubborn ass.

But what Lilly conveniently (or inconveniently) forgets about her husband is his extraordinary willpower. He won’t budge. He’s always polite in turning her down, but it doesn’t make it any less annoying. So she vows to make his life very, very… hard.

They’re at the kitchen table in Toronto and she sits up to reach for a napkin so he can see the way the scoopneck of her shirt falls open to show off the edges of her new lacy blue balconet bra the color of midnight. His fingers twitch around his fork. He just keeps his eyes down and shoves more ziti in his mouth.

They’re heading back up to their room overlooking Central Park and the elevator doors slide shut with them alone inside. In the mirrored doors he can see them looking like a million bucks -- she’s in a deep purple evening gown with a slit up the leg and he’s in a tux. The way she watches him in the reflection feels almost predatory. He swears every hair on his body is standing on end like they want to drag him into her if he won’t do it himself. He folds his hands together against his legs and clears his throat. She seems to jolt like she wasn’t expecting the sound. That night he holds open the door to their hotel room and helps with her zipper that comes all the way down to the swell of her ass and falls asleep with her draped over him, still in her pajamas.

They’re outside drinking coffee on the balcony in Los Angeles. She’s in his big gray sweater and her little yellow panties. Her hair shifts in the breeze so he can smell strawberries mixed with the scent of the hot palms. She looks so exactly Lilly that he almost can’t breathe. She’s not trying this time. It’s when he got the closest to cracking.

It started as a real, honest theory. It becomes a game for them both. At separate points it occurs to them that they could still be having sex without penetration, but they’re each too bullheaded to mention it.

And then soon enough it becomes something unexpected -- all bated breath, hushed exchanges of baby names in the middle of being almost-not-quite-asleep, glancing around spare rooms to imagine crib placements. The waiting feels like an odd show of reverence to a big, beautiful maybe. It’s its own kind of chasing magic, Lilly thinks.

Shawn comes home late from the studio one night. Most of the lights are off but there’s a candle flickering on the coffee table. The bay window is open. The breeze it provides flutters the black silk robe she’s had forever as it whispers against her thighs. He’s pretty sure she’s naked beneath it. With a tilting smirk, he turns his gaze away and wishes he didn’t always immediately turn pink at the sight of all his wife’s perfect skin.

“Lills, thought you’d be asleep,” he grunts, dropping his keys into the pottery dish her dad made them as a housewarming gift. He has to work harder to tamp down his smile when she curls around his arm and tugs him toward the couch. He goes willingly and lets her climb on top of him when he sits. He’s been gone all day. He misses her.

Shawn lets himself touch her, cupping her hip and stroking her back as she leans in and suckles at the shell of his ear, kissing and licking and nibbling while his breath starts to shake.

She breathes quietly. Her pulse is calm. Her smile is soft when she inhales to speak into his ear, a moaning little whisper.

“Hi, daddy.”

Shawn’s eyebrows come together. He exhales in a sharp hiss of surprise.

“Honey, did you just have a small stroke?”

She leans back slowly, eyes hooded. She scoops her hands up around his neck and it makes the inky dark shoulder of her robe slide down distractingly. Shawn wets his lips and shifts her, feeling himself harden pathetically. He’s absently considering how fucking fast he’ll come when he finally gets to feel her for real again when she presses her thumbs gently into the spots below his ears that tilt his gaze back up to hers.

“No, Shawn, you’re not my daddy.”

It takes him too long. He swears without the sexual release his brain’s not working right. But he gets there. And when he does, he crashes right through it.

His entire body goes tense. His fingerpads dig into her waist and back. His thighs go tight beneath her weight. His jaw drops stiffly. Everything just… stops.

“Are you fucking with me?” he breathes.

She smiles in a way he’s never seen before. He’s never seen anyone look so perfectly, existentially delighted, like their whole life’s purpose has been found and completed.

“I’m having your baby, it’s none of your business,” she teases, but it loses its intended attitude of long suffering vindication through the brightness of her grin.

Maybe it’s the intense build up of emotions that gets him there, but Shawn bursts into tears faster than he did when he broke his collarbone playing street hockey in the third grade. And when Shawn cries, Lilly cries.

“I’m gonna be a daddy, I’m gonna be a daddy,” Shawn chants wetly, hugging her to his chest as she sniffles into his ear, petting his hair.

The tears make way for laughter before too long. It’s big and loud and a little hysterical because neither of them knows what to do with feelings this size. So they throw them around like an emotional pillow fight until their clothes are flying off and Shawn is whispering in Lilly’s ear while he reaches between her legs to tell her he thinks it’s definitely, totally a girl.

Virtually high-five me for finally writing some pure, unadulterated fluff and buy me a Ko-fi (link on main page)!

Taglist: @smallerinfinities @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn @infiniteshawn @mendesoft @singanddreamanyway @alone-in-madness @abigfatmess @shawnitsmutual @awkwardfangirl2014 @september-lace @grittyisathot @sinplisticshawn @rollingxstone @yslsaint @randi-eve

[infiniteshawn]

Since We’re Alone | 1

Phoebe Rose Bray wasn't a spontaneous woman. But when she drunkenly applied to become a seat filler six months prior, she hadn't been thinking about her internship or her god-awful boss, Margaret, or her starving bank account. She'd been feeling ambitious.

And that's why when she got the email regarding the Sixty-fourth Annual Grammy Awards, she huffed a rather annoyed sigh and silently accepted the invitation.

A massive turn of events, a tragic production slip-up, and a quick diversion led her exactly where she hadn’t intended on ending up: in front of millions of people, wrapped up in the arms of a pop sensation.

a/n: here it is. 1.6 k. new series, or so i think. we’re gonna see how this one goes first. feedback: appreciated

She couldn’t believe she was doing this. Phoebe Rose Bray gave herself a one-over in her hotel bathroom, smoothing out her satin dress with her carefully manicured hands.

It wasn’t often that she travelled out of the country and it was far less often that she travelled alone. But when she drunkenly applied to become a seat filler six months prior, she hadn’t been thinking about her internship or her god-awful boss, Margaret, or her starving bank account. She’d been feeling ambitious.

And that’s why when she got the email regarding the Sixty-fourth Annual Grammy Awards, she huffed a rather annoyed sigh and silently accepted the invitation.

Phoebe began to understand the fuss about Los Angeles traffic when what should have been a ten-minute drive to the Staples Center turned into an hour-long road trip. Thank God Uber provided snacks.

It was more of a process than a celebration—for Phoebe, at least—and she was more interested in being assigned a seat than looking around for the faces of her childhood idols. Relieved to be inside with air conditioning and away from flashing cameras and hollering paparazzi, she settled into her seat and prayed to her lucky stars for a mediocre night.

The show was uneventful, for the most part. For the first half. As soon as the big categories began to surface, the crowd got antsy. From her spot at the back of the floor, Phoebe zoned in on the A-listers sitting closest to the stage, and it was clear they were shifting in their seats. Something was coming.

That something was Record of the Year, she deducted. She tried her best to focus on Justin Timberlake’s never-ending monologue about finally being able to host music’s biggest night, but the headset-wearing woman equipped with a clipboard was inevitable, and Phoebe knew where she was headed.

“You’re next,” the woman spoke, hastily yet quietly, “get ready.”

Phoebe kept a trained eye on the tops of people’s heads because she hadn’t memorized where each artist was sitting and it seemed like the only way she could possibly know where to go.

People came out—Katy Perry and some guy—to present the nominees. Phoebe straightened her spine and firmly planted her stiletto, preparing to jump up at any second. She reminded herself of the importance in being stealth, avoiding taking away from the artist’s acceptance speech because while this was their big moment, she was also contractually bound not to disturb the audience. Names were called. Snippets were played. An announcement was made. And before she knew it, Phoebe was silently power-walking toward the front of the arena, sitting her ass down in Lizzo’s still-warm folding chair.

The crowd had settled and she was giving a very animated speech about the song’s significance, and all Phoebe could focus on was the pointed boot almost touching her strapped-in-toes.

She was positive that the row of seven-or-so people sitting next to her were there together. Most of them muttered to each other during Lizzo’s speech, but the guy beside her was dead silent. He stared straight forward, face aimed directly at the stage. Phoebe could feel his brown eyes on her. She wondered if he was suspicious of her, or frowning upon the idea of seat fillers because maybe he believed that general audience members had no place up front. She never considered that the warmth engulfing her body wasn’t from her own embarrassment, but was instead radiating off of him.

The crowd broke into applause and they, together, realized that they, too, should probably be clapping. So they clapped. The show went on. And though neither of them said a word to the other, they were very aware of one another’s presence.

So much that Phoebe’s brain was running in circles, dreading the moment “Shawn Mendes” would be called as the winner of Album of the Year because he’d somehow have to wiggle past her, and she knew that with her luck she’d probably fall over. Her heart raced as she began debating whether she’d be standing with them in applause or remaining seated, and if she’d be shown on national television. It was all very much very fast and she didn’t even notice that Shawn was muttering under his breath in her direction.

“Psst,” she heard, and she turned in his direction quickly enough to give herself whiplash.

“What?” she whispered in a more offended tone than she’d hoped for. She just wasn’t expecting it.

“I said,” he spoke lowly, leaning in a little closer, “if it helps, I’m nervous too.”

“I’m n-”

“Yes, you are,” he cut her off, shooting her the million-dollar grin that was plastered on every billboard from New York to Tokyo.

He was ethereal. Phoebe knew that celebrities were ridiculously idealized in the media, and with the help of round-the-clock makeup artists and photoshop and endless reserves of cash, they were almost always eternally beautiful. But even this close up, with that damn curl hanging on his forehead, Shawn Mendes was inevitably gorgeous. She avoided his gaze.

“All I’m saying is,” he leaned in a little closer, and she was pretty sure she could feel his breath on her neck, “you can loosen up a bit. Sit back. Look around, no one’s looking at you,” he paused, allowed her to finally adjust to her surroundings, “except me.”

If she wasn’t blushing before, she was bright red now. She figured he would be like this—a womanizer, for the lack of a better term—but she never thought she’d fall victim to any of his one-liners.

Shawn clammed up when a uniformed-producer announced the final commercial break, and Phoebe sat in silence, unable to avoid eavesdropping on the group to her right.

“I’m not sure, man,” Shawn mumbled, leaning toward the suited guy beside him. Both of them were leaning forward, and Phoebe was able to make out the label on his seat. Andrew Gertler.

“Relax, Shawn,” the man she assumed to be Mr. Gertler spoke, “we’ve been here before. They’re either gonna recognize that you deserve it or they aren’t, and in both cases you need to remember that there’s a camera on you. Regardless of what you’re feeling, I need you to really sell it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shawn nodded, “just happy to be here. I know.”

“Good,” the man said before taking a sip of his water, “I have a good feeling, kid.”

Shawn didn’t respond. He took a deep breath and sunk back into his seat, watching intently as the rest of his team had a muffled conversation about the afterparty.

Phoebe picked at her cuticles until Shawn rubbed his massive hands together and muttered, “Showtime,” and Timberlake came out once again, thanking everyone for coming and prefacing some montage video of past Album of the Year winners.

She nudged his knee with hers. Shawn’s eyebrows shot up a bit, silently asking if the contact was intentional or if she was just a bit twitchy. She nudged him again.

“If it helps,” she whispered, neither of them looking at each other, “I’m nervous too.”

She couldn’t help but notice the tight-lipped grin creeping up his cheeks in her peripheral vision, and she knew that was just what he needed.

But the wave of comfort and confidence that had overcome Shawn didn’t last long, because the video was over and Pharrell Williams was standing before them, hastily reading through a list of eight album names as if these artists hadn’t put their absolute hearts and souls into each body of work.

A name was called. Phoebe wasn’t sure who it belonged to, but it didn’t belong to Shawn Mendes. The sinking feeling in his stomach somehow translated to her because she, too, felt it. Weightless.

Something was happening, though. The split-screen of nominees hadn’t focused-in on the winner as it usually would, and by some work of the devil it was displaying a massive live-video of Shawn’s face. And the heartbreak-with-a-hint-of-anger written all over it.

Neither Shawn nor his team had caught on to the technical slip-up, and the few seconds they were all on camera felt like hours to Phoebe. She was thinking at a million miles a second, debating tapping him on the shoulder or just saying something, anything, to bring his attention to his very-public negative reaction.

She knew this would be the big headline.

Unless she could make an even bigger one.

Without thinking long enough to convince herself otherwise, Phoebe twisted in her seat and faced the man she’d been so intimidated by for the last half-hour. His distraught eyes met her determined ones, and before he could resist, she muttered something along the lines of, “Just go with it,” and lunged at him, kissing him with everything she had.

Shawn froze and Phoebe panicked—had he not hit on her, this wouldn’t have even been a thought in her mind—but quickly, he melted into it. The gears began turning and her words had convinced him that she had a reason, supported by the way she kissed him with such purpose.

Her hand was on his jaw and his were in her hair, and while he refrained from slipping her the tongue for the sake of everyone watching at home, he still kissed her wildly.

Andrew was jostling Shawn’s arm. The cameramen had sorted their shit out. And Phoebe was up from her seat and running out of the arena faster than any of it had even happened.

taglist: @shxwnmxndess @sunriseshawn @jollybonkpatroldonkey @jesuscheistkaren @casuallycoolcloud @sinplisticshawn @deafeningdeanhoagieturtle @rosieblondie @hannahlouiseee @change-perspective13 @abeautiful-and-cloudy-day @calthesensation @livsalzy

[egoludes]

bro, cast your mutuals as hannah montana characters skfskdfsk

oh my god i love this LMAO

miley: @illumecherry, @fallininyoulily: @sinplisticshawnoliver: @shawnsmoosejackson: @shawnsmusicalrico: @shavvnmcndcs

ask me to cast my mutuals!