#shawn mendes request

[yournameoneverypage]

Aw, Nuts

NSFW 18+ / Minors, please DNI…

Word Count: ~4.8k

Notes: I had fun with this one, until I didn't, and then again when I did. 😜 Some angst, smut, and some fluff. Didn’t stick to the request exactly. Let’s be honest, no sexy time for three months? None at all? Come on, it’s Shawn. 😝 I haven’t written present tense for awhile, so please forgive any mistakes you might see... Might be a bit before I get to another request. I’ve been neglecting my OC series, so I’m going to try to finish the next part of that before I sift through my asks again. As always, likes are wonderful, but reblogs are better, and comments are cherished. 💕

* ❤️ *

You scrutinize yourself in your full length mirror.

You’re wearing a blush colored, lace bodycon dress and the most comfortable of the cutest heels you own for a night out with your boyfriend.

You screw your face and huff, “Am I not attractive? Am I not sexy?”

“Of course you are, darling,” your best friend, JJ, hums distractedly.

“You would fuck me if you were straight, wouldn’t you?”

“In a heartbeat, Sweetie,” he mumbles.

You glance over your shoulder. The other occupant of your apartment is sideways in the plush armchair in the corner of your bedroom, his eyes not on you, but his phone screen.

His inattention further frustrates you. “Bitch, enough with the damn phone. I’m in the middle of a crisis here! I need your attention more than whatever sugar daddy you’re flirting with on Grindr.” You stomp across the room and yank his phone from his hands.

“What the hell?!” He snatches his phone back but wisely shoves it in his pocket and sits up properly. “All right. You have my undivided attention. What’s the goddamn crisis?”

“Shawn.”

JJ raises an eyebrow. “Shawn?”

You pout. “We’ve been dating for three months and we still haven’t had sex.”

“Wait, what??” JJ thought you were keeping your sex life private for Shawn’s sake, being who he is; he hadn’t ever thought there might not be a sex life to talk about.

“What am I doing wrong? What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing. He is wild about you. He looks at you like you hung the moon, and the stars.”

“Well then, what the hell?” you grumble.

“You’re not usually shy in taking what you want. Direct the outcome.”

“You think I haven’t tried? You do know that my boyfriend is one of the hottest men in the world, right?”

“Well aware, thank you,” JJ snickers. “Are you getting any kind of action? Come on, spill.”

“We have really hot makeout sessions.”

“Yes, I’ve seen the marks left behind,” he mutters.

“He loves my tits.”

“You do have phenomenal tits.”

‘We’ve gotten really good at second base… But when I try to stick my hand down his pants, he puts the brakes on.”

“I think the better question is, what’s wrong with him?”

You give JJ a little shove, by his face, and chuckle softly before you sigh again. “I miss sex. I really, really like sex.”

“For fuck’s sake, just tell him to dick you down already.”

That’s the moment you hear a knock on your apartment door. Shawn has already charmed the entirety of the front desk staff; they don’t even call you anymore for consent to let him upstairs.

You swing open the door and Shawn’s eyes brighten. “Baby,” he murmurs, his smile even more brilliant.

He draws you to him to give you an enthusiastic kiss hello. You can’t help but react; this boy is your kryptonite.

When you ease away from each other his eyes caress you from head to toe. Deliberately. He rumbles, “You look gorgeous.”

“So do you,” you breathe, cheeks pink, despite your frustration with him.

He’s wearing navy, low-rise, straight-leg pants that hug his ass in the most perfect way, his Bode, white lace, long-sleeve shirt you both love so much, and his go-to black Chelsea boots.

Your man is a fucking model. (No, really. Signed with Wilhemina and everything, with campaigns for Armani, Calvin Klein, and Tommy Hilfiger under his belt.) He is magnificently built, tall and broad, with skin reflecting his half-Portuguese heritage due to an abundance of vitamin D from the summer sun, and dark curls at the exact length you favor.

“I have half a mind to say fuck it and stay in tonight,” he smirks.

“Can we? I’d be all right with that.”

“But then I can’t show my girl off,” he grins. “I want people to turn their heads when we walk by and think to themselves, what a lucky bastard.”

Where normally his boasting and praise would light you up and have you floating on air, head held high, proud to be his girl, tonight it rubs you the wrong way.

Shawn offers you his arm and smiles. “Ready, baby?”

///

After your first few dates, you and Shawn had taken to sitting side by side at restaurants instead of across from each other, so his first inkling that something is off is when you choose the seat opposite the cushy side where you would usually sit together.

Despite his bemusement, he pulls your chair out for you like the gentleman he has always been.

The second indication is how you aren’t as engaging or flirtatious as usual. In truth, it’s the first time he has ever felt that he has dominated the conversation. There had always been an equal push and pull between you; it was what made all of your conversations so effervescent.

Worry begins to prickle beneath his skin.

Halfway through dinner he’s bothered enough to reach for your hand and draw you from your chair to sit beside him. You huff softly but still go willingly. You hate how you’re feeling upset with him at all.

He drapes his arm across the back of the bench behind you. It’s reassuring that you lean into him. After he leaves a trail of little kisses along your jawline he asks, “What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours? We always sit together. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything is fine.” You try to smile genuinely, but all Shawn can see is disquiet in your eyes. You haven't ever been a good liar.

He catches the attention of your waitress and motions for the check.

“But we aren’t done with dinner,” you contend.

“Honey, you’ve barely touched your entree,” he gently argues, stroking the soft skin of your back with gentle fingertips.

You reach for his other hand and entwine your fingers with his. “I'm fine, babe. Let’s order dessert and have another glass of wine.”

He slides his Amex card into the check presenter and hands it back to the waitress. He kisses you once she walks away and murmurs against your lips, “Let’s go. This place is overrated anyway.”

///

The plan had been to go on to a speakeasy after dinner to meet some of your friends, have a few drinks, and listen to some live music. So, when you realize Shawn is taking you in the direction of his place instead, you feel terrible for ruining more than dinner.

“No, baby. Let’s just go on to the bar,” you insist. “Our friends are waiting.”

He places his hand on your thigh and draws shapes against your skin. He glances at you and smiles affectionately, even though now you can see the disquiet in his eyes.

“Another time. I’ve decided I want my girl all to myself tonight. They’ll forgive us.”

///

You love Shawn’s place, simply for the way it smells. It’s everything Shawn, with little nuances of you. You spend more time at his place than yours because there’s more privacy. He has no roommate to crash your movie nights or cuddle sessions like JJ too often does. It has begun to feel more like home than your own apartment.

You slip out of your heels and start toward Shawn’s room to steal one of his shirts so you can get out of your dress, but before you can go too far, Shawn reaches for your hand, causing you to pause and turn back to him.

He wastes no time in trying to fix whatever seems to be fracturing. He asks quietly, “Are you going to tell me what’s up?”

You return to him, slip your arms around him, and inhale his very essence. You fit perfectly in his arms and it’s the closest he’s felt to you all night.

You have only been together for three months; it's safe to say he may not yet know all of your moods. Maybe this is just another piece of you he has to learn.

You rise onto your tiptoes and brush your lips against his, encouraging him to kiss you. He gets caught up in you as quickly and as easily as he always does, his hands slipping into your hair, the pads of his thumbs stroking your face, as your kisses turn from soft to fervent.

Your hands reach for him, and fingers fumble to undo his pants.

You normally get much further than this before he stops you. But you still haven’t told him why you haven’t been yourself tonight and his brain takes over sooner than it usually would.

“Honey?” He pauses your hands and eases away, rezipping and refastening his pants, despite the fact that they’re too tight now and quite uncomfortable.

Your frustration finally boils over, and with an irritated sigh you push him away with hands against his chest. He stumbles one step back.

You immediately, apologetically rub your hands down the front of his shirt and then reach up to cup his face. He covers your hands with his and breathes your name, - an urge to help him understand.

“You tell me I’m beautiful all the time, and we make out until our lips are numb, and we get here, to this point, and so, so close to so much more, and just when I think, finally…”

You take two steps back, quickly wiping a tear from the corner of your eye, asking meekly, “Do you not want to have sex with me?”

“Oh my God,” Shawn gasps. It’s as if the floor opens beneath his feet and swallows him whole. “Sweetheart.” He feels like the biggest son of a bitch for making you cry, for making you doubt your appeal when, to him, you are the most beautiful woman in the world, or feel insecure in any way.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You can't imagine the things I've wanted to do to you since the first moment I laid my eyes on you.”

“I don’t understand,” you whisper.

“Come’ere.” He reaches out to take your hands again in his and draws you close. “I just… I wanted to take it slow.”

“This isn’t three dates or three weeks, Shawn, we’ve been together for three months.”

“Can- can I be honest?” he exhales shakily, cheeks pinking.

“Always. You know that.”

He gently squeezes your hands. “I wanted to take it slow… a- at first because… My God, honey, you’re perfect, and I like you, like, a lot, you know? Hell, I- I more than like you,” he confesses, blushing even darker. “And I didn’t want to fuck anything up before I had the chance to make you mine…

“I was afraid to move too fast, because I usually do, and then it always ends as quickly as it starts. And I want things to work out this time, more than I’ve ever wanted things to work out with anyone else.”

“Shawn,” you wheeze, easing your hands from his to run down his chest. You bite your lip to try to keep yourself from smiling like a fool.

“I know once we…” He rubs the back of his neck. “You know…”

Fuck, was he the most adorable thing ever sometimes. “Have sex?” you smirk.

His eyes meet yours and he licks and bites his lips in that way he does that makes you crazy. “Once I really get between your legs, I know I’ll never be able to get enough of you.”

“’cause you like me, like, a lot?” you grin, even as your face flames. “I like you, like, a lot, too, Shawn… And I don’t know, never leaving bed sounds pretty fucking amazing to me.” You tug on his hand, - a request to follow you to his room.

He stays firmly grounded. “Wait.”

You groan with a flare of new frustration. “You’re really trying my patience, babe.”

He has to close his eyes for his next admission and his face burns hot. “I’m having some… performance anxiety.”

You rise on your tiptoes and murmur against the shell of his ear as your hand brushes across the significant bulge at the front of his pants. “Sure doesn’t feel like it to me.”

“That’s not-” he hums, wetting his lips, “the problem.” He guides your hand back to where it had just been because he really wants it there.

You gently palm him through his pants. “Then what’s the problem, baby?”

“I haven’t had sex with- with anyone for awhile. Just- just my own hand. And when- when I…”

His stuttering is positively endearing.

“When you…?” you encourage, coyly. You know what he’s alluding to, but you want to hear him say it.

“I think about you when my hand is on my cock,” he murmurs, “dreamin’ it’s yours.”

Wetness immediately pools between your thighs thinking about how hot it would be to watch him get himself off.

“And I come embarrassingly fast. Like a damn twelve-year-old boy who just discovered his dick. So… when you try to put your hand in my pants…”

“What? Think I’ll be unimpressed with your size?” you tease. “It’s all about how you use it.”

“You’re impossible,” he laughs, pulling you against him and palming your ass like you had just been palming his crotch.

“I already know that is not going to be an issue,” you murmur, increasing the pressure of your stroke.

It's almost too much. “You gotta stop now, baby,” he groans, easing away from your caress. “I want to last more than seven seconds,” he puffs and nervously runs a hand through his hair. “And that- that’s what I worry about. I don’t want you to be… disappointed. And then I get… stuck in my fucking head.”

“Could never be disappointed, babe.” You cup his face and kiss him tenderly. “I wish you would’ve told me all of this sooner.”

“I'm an idiot,” he states. “I’m so sorry, Sweetheart. I wasn’t thinking about how my anxieties were affecting you, and I should have. I never meant to make you feel undesirable, or that I didn’t want to shove my cock in you every fucking chance I had. Shit, baby.”

“Aw, you say the most romantic things,” you intone amusingly.

He hooks his fingers beneath the straps of your dress, murmuring, “I want to make love with you…” He slides the straps off your shoulders. “…every second of every day. Is that better?” he hums.

“No, no, right now shoving your cock in me, - that works,” you say breathily,  again unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He doesn’t stop you this time. You grip the open waistband to sharply tug him closer.

He exhales with a suppressed grunt that has you begging. “I’m fucking horny, Shawn. I need it,” you whine. “I need you.”

He has quickly located and unfastened every tie or zipper keeping your dress on your body. “Been dying to get you outta this dress all fucking night,” he groans, as it flutters to the floor.

His eyes caress the swells of your breasts almost spilling out of your strapless bra. Your nipples are visible through the sheer material. He cups your breasts and drags the pads of his thumbs over your taut peaks. “Fucking flawless,” he groans.

You begin to walk both of you towards the sofa while unbuttoning the only three buttons on his shirt and sliding it off his broad shoulders. The backs of his calves find your mark.

Before he can even catch up, you’ve pushed his pants over his hips and have gently shoved him down onto the sofa. You’re in his lap the next moment, straddling him, your lace-covered core pressing against his cotton-encased hardness.

“Shit,” he curses. His hands can’t decide if they want to be on your hips or your ass.

One of your hands curls around the back of his neck, the other tangles in his curls. You trail tiny kisses from his chin up along his jawline.

You start rocking your hips and touch the tip of your tongue to the lobe of his ear. “You feel good, baby,” you purr. 

His grip tightens on your hips and you hear a tiny rumble at the back of his throat. He places open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone and over the swells of your breasts.

Your hips roll and speed up. The friction is divine and you think you might come, just like this, but your own pleasure is second to Shawn’s. You want him to get out of his head; you don’t want him thinking at all, just feeling.

You start to grind your hips against his. “Oh God-” he exhales. You’re soaking the lace of your panties and you can feel how you’re making a mess of his boxer briefs as well, where his cockhead is straining.

It’s not how he wants things to go, but it feels too good. His protestations are weak.

You take his earlobe between your lips and gently suck and lick it. With the tip of your tongue, you trace the contours of his ear.

He grabs your ass and squeezes, trying to still your hips, as your lips return to his earlobe and gently nibble on it. “Baby- baby- stop stop stop-” he gasps, lips against your skin. “You’re gonna make me-”

His orgasm washes over him and he nuts with a shuddering groan as wetness coats the inside of his underwear. Like a twelve-year-old boy.

You release his ear and slow your hips, trying to edge yourself away from your own climax, while his cock continues to throb and jerk.

His hand grips the back of your head, forcing your lips to his. His tongue delves deep into your mouth. He grunts as your lips part. He tries to scowl but he can’t stop from laughing instead. “You did that on purpose.”

“Mhm,” you smirk. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, you’ll last longer next time.”

He has you under him on the sofa before you can do anything but squeal and laugh.

“You’re asking for it,” he laughs, deep and throaty, hurriedly, roughly dragging the already saturated lace of your panties over your hips, down, and off. “And for the record,” he smirks, gripping his half hard cock through his boxers. “I’m above average, and I know how to use it.”

You hook your finger in the waistband and start to draw it down. “Prove it.”

Shawn pushes his boxer briefs down, freeing his cock. You lick your lips, thinking just how badly you want to get your mouth on him.

It’s as if he can read your thoughts. “Nuh-uh. My turn.” Hovering over you, he brings his lips to your ear and growls, purrs, “I know how to use my tongue, too.”

The way he kisses is enough to confirm that, but knowing he is about to bury his face between your thighs sends a fresh wave of desire throughout your body, and makes your pussy throb.

Thank fuck for the size of his sofa, as he pushes your legs open.

You gasp and groan, your back arching, when he lowers and closes his mouth around your center.

You bite on your lower lip, hand immediately tangling in his hair, as you rock against his face. You moan, hips moving instinctively against him, “Shawn… hmm… yes, baby, yes...”

His tongue is on your clit, first and middle fingers dipping inside you. He quickly finds that magic sweet spot, crooks his fingers, and laves and flicks and sucks your button, and you’re levitating off the sofa.

It’s too much and also not enough. One hand is in his hair, tugging, the other is twisted in the sofa’s slipcover beside you. You try to close your legs, but can’t with his broadness in the way. “Shawnshawnshawn,” you wheeze. “OhGod-”

His fingers are soaked with your juices. He’s fully hard again from the scent of your arousal, the moans and groans he’s drawing from you, how you’re rippling against him, and the friction of his cock rubbing against the sofa.

He knows you’re close; his fingers slip from you and you whine, tightening your grip in his curls, but he wants to prolong your ascension and he needs to taste you again.

“Please,” you beg, breathlessly.

He licks away the wetness you’ve already released and then his tongue is where his fingers just were.

Everything about him is long; his limbs, his fingers, his cock, his tongue. Your taste is addictive, and he feasts, humming and rumbling, urging you to take your pleasure by pushing against his mouth.

You’re near your zenith; he can tell by the way your hand in his hair tugs and how your moan changes. Your body begins to quiver and again he withdraws.

“Nonono,” you gasp, whimper, “pleasepleaseplease.”

But he’s only removed his mouth to sink two fingers back into you.

“That’s it. Come for me, Sweetheart,” he murmurs, watching his fingers pump in and out of you, each time brushing against that tight bundle of nerves. You clench around him, moaning, chasing the release you might die if you don’t get rightthefucknow.

With one more firm crook of his fingers, and just the right amount of pressure from his thumb on your clit, you climax, shatter, and cry out as your orgasm fully claims you.

“Gorgeous,” Shawn purrs as he softly kisses and caresses you through every twitch and tremble and wave, until you’re blissed out and hypersensitive to his touch.

You are loose and pliant and flush and utterly exquisite beneath him. Shawn has never been more tempted to slide into a pussy unprotected, but it’s too big of a risk that he’d find himself wanting to stay buried within you when he came. He wouldn’t dare ask you to compromise yourself that way. 

He is swiftly on his feet, practically dashing for his bedroom, calling out, “Condom!”

You watch his bare ass, that you will absolutely sink your teeth in at some point, disappear from the living room. You yell after him, giggling, still in that post-orgasm haze and giddy, “After tonight you’re stashing condoms within easy reach of every room of this condo!”

He’s back and on his knees between your legs moments later, with the small foil in his hand.

You rise, and reach for it, asking softly, “Can I?”

His breath hitches. “Y- yeah.”

“Will you show me how?”

“Fuck.” He grips the base of his shaft and squeezes gently, just enough to take the edge off.

He guides your hands with the exact sensation and pressure he likes as he helps you slide it down his length.

You wrap your hand around his girth, and give his cock a gentle tug. He grunts and pushes into your palm. You relax again against the sofa cushions, taking him with you, and line him up with your opening.

“Shit,” he curses in anticipation. As desperate as he is to bury himself balls deep within you, he stills you with a gentle, “Y- you’re ready?”

He’s a big boy, but he prepped you quite well with those long and marvelous fingers while eating you out, and you are still wet from your climax. You kiss him in response.

Temples pressed together, eyes down, you both watch as he slowly, gently begins to push into you.

The burn and stretch is intense in a way that makes you lightheaded with pleasure and you moan softly while you adjust to the way he fills you.

“OhmyGod,” he gasps. You feel like heaven around him.

You gently trail your fingertips from where you’re intimately connected, up, along the lines of his abdomen and chest. You place your hands around his face. Your eyes stay locked with his until he bottoms out.

You slide your arms around his neck. You gasp when the pebbled nubs of your breasts brush against his chest. 

He licks into your mouth, curls his tongue around yours. You gently bite and tug at his lower lip. You wrap one of your legs around his hip and roll your pelvis, urging him to start moving.

He needs no further encouragement, easing back, pushing in. You whimper as you find your rhythm together, fingernails denting crescent marks in the tight, broad muscles of his upper back.

He latches onto your shoulder with his teeth and moans deep in his throat. He withdraws, slides in, brings his mouth to suck bruises in the crook of your neck before soothing them with his tongue.

You murmur his name. He hums yours with every withdrawal and thrust.

Your back arches and you moan again when he lowers his mouth to your breasts. He licks and tugs and sucks each taut, dusky pink nipple until they’re too sensitive and you draw his lips to yours.

“Fuck,” he grunts into your mouth. “You feel so good.” His pupils are blown wide. “Baby,” he groans. He needs to be deeper.

He swiftly shifts onto his knees and you both cry out at the new angle. He grips the outsides of your thighs, pushes up, driving his cock deep, hitting your g-spot. Your little gasps and whimpers are the music that drives him. He moans with every rock into you.

The position you’re in allows easy access to your clit and your hand falls between you.

“That’s it, baby,” he hums, grins, rumbles, “Look at you…”

You start to tremble. Needy sounds and words without meaning tumble from your lips, and you tip your head up.

His teeth nip against the length of your neck. “Wanna see you fall apart again,” he whispers against your pulse.

You cry out his name as his cocktip finds your sweet spot again, and again. “That’s it, Sweetheart.”

Your fingers over your clit begin to move faster. Your hips rise, your back bends, and your breath catches. Your orgasm sweeps over you swiftly, unexpectedly, sharply. You don’t even have the chance to find your voice as your other hand screws tight and stars explode behind your eyes.

Your chest lifts and falls rapidly. Your hands grip his ass and you pull him against you.

He grunts. His eyes close and his mouth slackens as he chases his own pleasure. His pace begins to speed up, and then falter. The sounds dripping from his lips are sinful.

He pulls back, almost slipping out of you. He’s on the edge. His balls are heavy and tight and already drawing up close to the base of his dick. He moans as he slides back in.

You swivel your hips just right and rock down as he rocks up, meeting his thrust. He snaps his hips once, twice. “yesyesbabyyes-” You clench around him, again, and his orgasm creeps up from every part of his body until he’s both desperate for it to stop and to continue forever.

“holyfuck,” he wheezes, gasps. He stutters, stills, and unravels buried deep within you with a satisfying groan of your name.

You tighten your legs around his waist and rock your hips, again clenching your inner walls around him while you coast the aftershocks. You both finally still, breath heaving, giggling softly. His hands slide along the length of your arms and he trails little nips up along your jawline.

You melt into the sofa. “Mm… you were worried for nothing,” you purr, a small smile on your lips.

Once he was out of his head and in the moment, it had been a non-issue. All he had been fixated on was how to make you cry his name. His grin is smug upon hearing the absolute satisfaction in your voice, knowing he is responsible for making you feel so good.

You kiss him, you don't want to stop kissing him, but he detaches his lips from yours with a chuckle.

His hand moves between your bodies to hold onto the condom, and he carefully pulls out. You whimper with the loss

He reaches for a few tissues from the box on the coffee table and wraps the condom within them, placing the mess in the nearby decorative bowl. That'd do for now; he'd dispose of it properly later.

He moves back into your embrace and hovers above you for a few moments longer, returning his lips to yours.

“We might want to move this to the bedroom,” he smirks, mischief dancing in his eyes, guiding your hand to his cock, already hardening again.

“You’re insatiable,” you giggle, tightening your leg around his waist and your hand around his dick.

He hums and rocks his hips just a little. “Warned you,” he smirks.

“Just wanna stay right here,” you murmur, pulling him down atop you. “Just for a minute.”

“Imma crush you.”

“Won’t let you.” You can still breathe, and his weight on top of you is intimate and comforting. He relaxes, sinking into you, resting his head on your chest.

You run your fingers soothingly through his curls. “Shawn?” you whisper.

“Yeah baby?” he breathes, just as softly.

“I ‘more than like you’, too.”

~ * ~

@mendesblurb @benito-mi-vida @monikamendes @mendesficsxbombay @pamelagramm @chocochipcookie305 @misti-ka @fallinallinshawn

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes request #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fiction #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x you

[shawnxstyles]

hii are you taking requests rn? if you are could you pls pls do some hcs of shawn during sex if that’s okay hahaha like anything’s fine. i just feel like i haven’t seen shawn content like anywhere that much for a while so some hcs would be nice. if not it’s okay. i love your work keep it upppp :)

shawn head-cannons #1 (smut)

note: i haven’t posted for shawn in a longgg time even though i have requests. i’m taking a break from work right now, so why not just do this one real quick? enjoy!

—

➪ firstly, shawn loves touching you. his hands always find their way around your waist, holding yours, massaging your shoulders, etc.

➪ shawn loves kissing your neck and whispering into your ears. he likes to be as close as possible to hear your breath pick up. he loves to hear the effect he has on you.

➪ shawn ALWAYS makes sure you come first. the way you whimper as your orgasm approaches drives him fucking crazy. sometimes he’ll make you come more than once. raw and sore until you’re begging him to stop

“again.” “but shawn—” “just one more, baby. i know you can. need to taste you.”

➪ sometimes when he wakes up before you, he just HAS to get a taste. he loves to lick every inch inside and outside of your folds. you usually grapple onto his curls as you wake up until your fingers are entangled. your trembling and shaky grasp always makes him dizzily horny.

➪ when his fingers are deep inside your cunt, he keeps a slow, taunting pace. he edges you by removing one of his three fingers. you would whine into the air until he gave in, thrusting into you with a vicious hand.

➪ shawn’s name is muscle memory on your tongue. the second his hands are on you and making you feel bliss, you’re chanting his name like a mantra into the air. nothing boosts his ego like your needy sounds for him.

“shawn, fuck, oh my god.” “so pretty with my name in your mouth.”

➪ when you’re desperate and needy, shawn will egg you on until you’re begging for his cock.

➪ he tries his hardest to be stern, but he’s really a big softie, and will give you whatever you wanted in time.

➪ shawn pushes himself into you with his long cock, stretching you out until you’re blind with dizziness. his strokes are slow, making you feel every inch of him a million times more.

➪ each rock is eye-rolling; a fire igniting in the pits of your stomach every time. when he rests his hand on the hidden bulge of your tummy, you squeal and clench around him.

➪ he loves watching your face as you come; scrunched eyes and eyebrows, back arching, and hands scratching.

“you’re so pretty when you come, baby.”

➪ and of course, shawn makes sure to leave his marks are you. sore bruises around your neck, breasts, and thighs. yes, he might be a softie for you, but you’re his. and everyone needs to know that.

—

i hope i did this right?? i’ve never done head-cannons beforeee

#shawnxstyles #shawn mendes #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes fan fics #shawn mendes head cannons #requests #anon request

[goldanthem]

Shawn Mendes — singing.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes avatars #avatars #rpg #roleplay #400*640 #request

[storiesforallfandoms]

neglected ~ shawn mendes

word count: 2091

request?: yes!

“hiii, here’s a shawn mendes x reader request i had since you’re requests are open now…

so what if the reader joins shawn on tour but starts feeling left out because shawn is only paying attention to his friends and then eventually the reader gets fed up of it and just snaps at shawn. then they have a fight about it, but at the end it’s all fluffy.

love u, stay safe :)”

description: when he starts neglecting her while on tour, she has enough and decides to voice her frustrations

pairing: shawn mendes x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

Going on tour with your boyfriend for the first time should’ve been a magical experience. Getting to watch him perform every night, getting to go to the after parties with him to celebrate, spending a lot of alone time together in hotel rooms and the tour bus. How could it not be the time of your life?

That’s what you expected anyways. Reality was not as amazing as you thought.

You knew that Shawn would be busy. You didn’t expect him to drop his work to spend time with you. You didn’t want him to do that anyways; you were actually very excited to watch him perform and to be there for his shows and soundchecks.

No, it wasn’t the work that was making this experience less stellar than you expected. It was Shawn’s friends and his attention towards them.

You loved Shawn’s friends and you were glad they agreed to come on the tour for a while as well. Shawn had been having a hard time mentally on tour so you suggested that he bring some of his friends with him to help him feel more at home while on the road. At first, you were glad to see that it was working and to see how happy Shawn was. But then you started to notice how much more time and attention he was giving his friends versus how much he was giving you. It got to a point where he wouldn’t even notice you weren’t there.

Like the night that everything finally came to a head for you.

You had been to Shawn’s show, cheering for him from your VIP section. When the show finished, you went backstage to meet up with everyone. You were almost shocked when Shawn immediately ran up to you and gave you a big kiss.

“We’re going out for after show drinks,” he told you. “You’re coming with us, right?”

“Of course,” you said. “I gotta go to the bathroom first. I had one too many sodas during the show.”

Shawn chuckled and kissed you again before letting you go.

You were buzzing with excitement as you quickly did your business and washed your hands. You were hopped up on post show adrenaline and the excitement of being invited to the night out. You didn’t want to leave the guys waiting for too long.

Once you stepped out of the bathroom, though, you found the backstage area empty except for Shawn’s manager. He looked at you in shock when you appeared.

“I thought you were going to the after party,” he said.

“I am,” I said. “I mean, I thought I was. Are they all gone?”

“Yeah, they left a few minutes ago.”

You bit back the hurt you were feeling. You were sure this was a misunderstanding. Maybe they were waiting for you outside.

But when you went out back where the car had been, all you saw was the tour bus and the stage crew carrying the equipment out. A lump was forming in your throat as you dialed Shawn’s number. You let it ring until it went to voicemail, then tried again to the same results.

Suddenly, your sadness washed away and was replaced with anger. You couldn’t believe that he left you! He invited you to go, he was the one who brought it up to you, and for the quick five minutes you were in the bathroom, he left!

You were fuming as you ordered an Uber to the arena. Most of the fans had cleared out by now, so you were safe to stand in the front of the arena as you waited for your Uber to arrive. You hoped your driver wasn’t very talkative because you truly were not in the mood for small talk.

Your driver gave you a small smile as you got in. “Coming from the concert?”

“Yeah,” you deadpanned.

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good. Was it not a good show?”

“It was a good show until the end,” you muttered, turning to look out the window to signify to your driver that you were finished with the conversation.

You uttered a small “thank you” as you got out of the car at the hotel you were staying in. Your anger had started melting away in the car ride over, so now instead of the angry stomp you had planned, you were just barley dragging your feet to the elevator. You watched as the numbers ticked upwards until the soft ding filled your ears and the doors opened on your floor.

Your and Shawn’s shared hotel room wasn’t too far from the elevator, luckily, because all you wanted to do now was lay down in bed and cry. You couldn’t believe Shawn had so easily forgotten you, and now he wasn’t even answering your calls. This was supposed to be the time of your life, and instead all you felt was sadness. Part of you just wanted to pack your things and go home. It wasn’t like Shawn would even notice you weren’t there.

You were debating booking the next flight out of there and back home as you laid down in bed, but the minute your head hit the pillow your tears were unleashed. You curled up into a ball, allowing the tears to flow freely down your cheeks and soak into the pillow beneath you until you eventually cried yourself to sleep.

~~~~~~

You were awoken to the sound of a loud bang. You jumped awake, thinking someone was breaking into your room or something. It wasn’t until you heard a familiar laugh that you realized it was just Shawn finally coming back from his “after party”.

You looked over at your phone to see it was 3am. About time he got back.

Shawn switched on the light in the room without warning, causing you to yelp as you quickly covered your eyes.

“Shit, I’m so sorry baby,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d be awake.”

“Hard to sleep when you’re banging around the room and laughing at the top of your lungs,” you grumped. You blinked your eyes, trying to adjust to the bright light and to get rid of the spots currently in your vision.

You looked up to see Shawn had that goofy smile on his face that you normally loved to see. You knew this meant he had had a good night, which usually you’d be happy about. But the events of the night were still fresh on your mind and you weren’t about to let him get away with neglecting you this time.

“Did you have a good night?” you asked him.

“Oh yeah, it was great! We went to this local bar that had a local band playing. We drank a bunch, played some pool. One of the guys in the band recognized me and let me get up on stage with them. I actually followed all of them, I’m gonna post a video of them performing on my story and hope it helps them gain a bunch of followers.”

“Sounds awesome. Thank you so much for including me in your oh so fun boy’s night.”

Shawn looked up at you, a confused look on his face. He was finally registering the sarcasm dripping from your tone.

“What do you mean? I invited you to come, babe.”

“Yeah you did, and about five minutes later while I was in the bathroom, you fucking left me at the arena!”

“What? No, I - ”

“Yes you did, Shawn! I went to the bathroom, I told you I’d be back and I’d be down to going out after your show, and then when I did come back from the bathroom you had just up and left me! No texts, no calls, no telling me where you were going. Just gone without a trace. You didn’t even text me to see if I had gotten back here safe from the arena.”

His face was turning a light shade of pink. “I just thought...I mean I knew you would’ve - ”

“Don’t lie, Shawn,” you cut him off. “You didn’t think of me at all. You just wanted to go out and have a good time with your friends. Who gives a fuck if your girlfriend is there or not, even though you were the one who invited me to come along with you guys.”

“Hey, you were the one who told me to invite the guys on the tour with me.”

“Yes, I did. I’m not claiming that I didn’t. I did that because I knew you were having a rough time mentally on the tour and I thought it would help to have your friends here with you. But what I didn’t think would happen would be that you were spending all your time with them and none of it with me!”

“That’s not true! I do spend time with you!”

“When? When was the last time we hung out without your friends, Shawn? When was the last time we did something outside of the hotel rooms and the tour bus and the backstage areas, just the two of us, without your friends? Tell me.”

You crossed your arms and looked at him, expectantly. He was silent and you could tell by the look on his face that he didn’t have any response.

“That’s what I thought,” you said.

“Okay, maybe we haven’t been spending much time together lately, but you’ve been on tour with me longer than the guys have. I spent time with you before they were here, and now I should be spending time with you while they’re here? That doesn’t seem fair.”

Your anger came to a boil. You got up from the bed and got so close to Shawn that you were basically in his face. He had to take a step away from you because you were so close, your anger radiating off of you.

“I was on tour with you a whole week before the guys came! So don’t pull that shit on me! I have every right to be upset about the fact that you have been neglecting me in favor of your friends. I love them to pieces, and you know that, but I do not love you shoving me to the side because of them. If you don’t want to spend time with me, just tell me so I can pack my shit and go home.”

You didn’t realize you had started crying again until Shawn reached out and wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. He held your head in his hands, sadness written on his face.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” he said. “You’re right, the way I’ve been treating you is unfair. I’ve never gotten to take my girlfriend or my friends on tour before. I was so excited to be able to spend this time with everyone that I forgot I should be dividing it equally, not just expecting you to want to spend time with me and the guys all the time and not having alone time together.”

You sighed and moved closer to him, burying your head in his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“I want you to be happy while you tour,” you told him. “I just want to be able to spend time with you, too, and to make memories while we’re seeing the world together. I don’t mind if the guys tag along sometimes, but other times I do want it to just be us.”

“I know, babe. I promise from here on out I will spend equal time with you and with the guys, and I won’t leave you alone in arenas when we’re going out ever again. I’ll wait for you, even if that makes us the last two people in the building and they’re forcing us out so they can lock up.”

You giggled. “I won’t make you take it that far. That’s not fair to the custodians then.”

Shawn chuckled as well and kissed your forehead. The two of you got into bed together and you settled into Shawn’s arms. You were starting to feel the tug of sleep pulling you into the world of dreams when you felt Shawn’s lips against your forehead again.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” you mumbled back. “Go to sleep, I’m tired.”

His chest vibrated as he chuckled and you felt him stretch out towards the nearby light switch before the room was plunged into darkness and you finally drifted off to sleep.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[voghe]

hi! taylor swift + shawn mendes users for twitter please?

@ loverremix @ remixlover @ mendesswifft @ shawnswifts @ menswiftreps @ reptourmendes @ illumiswift @ treattaybetter @ titanicmendes @ swiftshawns @ aheromendes @ vigilanshawn @ shawnsmdnghts @ shawnshaze @ mendeshaze @ mastermendes

© V O G H E ≛ like or reblog if you save/use

#request #twitter layouts #twitter layout #twitter packs #taylor swift #tswift #random users #twitter usernames #twitter users #tswizzle #kpop layouts #random usernames #shawn mendes #user shawn mendes #shawn mendes users #taylor swift x shawn mendes #taylor swift usernames

[brianc521]

maybe like a first date blurb? meeting the family?

anything to do with his truck, a nice bonfire blurb?

He looks over, watching her watch the view. Her hair blows in the wind, the scent of peaches reaching his nose causing this warmth to soothe his tense shoulders.

She slowly slides her hand out of the open window, allowing it to push against the wind as they fly down the backroad leading to the little lake spot they go to just be alone.

The smirk stays on his lips as he looks back down at the speedometer to find her picture covering the 80 and above speeds.

"I need you driving safe. And if you're going 80, then you're not driving safe."

Her pouted lips as she gave him that spiel stay engraved in his head. It's what makes him slow down then that trustee red arrow passes past the picture.

His smile grows when she looks back at him. It causes a smile to erupt on her face and he has to look away before his heart explodes. He can't believe it's him she's smiling at.

"Are you blushing?" She asks, leaning over to grab his hand that's resting on the middle seat of the bench.

"Shh don't tell." He looks back over, silently cursing his pink cheeks for giving him away. When his fingers interlock with hers he tugs her closer. "You're too far away."

She squeals as she slides closer to him. Her hip knocking into his. Suddenly he drops her hand and instead lets it rest on her thigh.

"God I love a bench seat." She sighs as her head leans on his shoulder.

"Me too." He grins.

#i have not a clue who this was about #I just wanted to write #idk hmu with some blurb requests #kind of wanna write again #shawn mendes #harry styles #brian cragien #morgan wallen #michael hardy #ernest #cowboy #cowgirl #truck #bench seat

[mingigoo]

Could you give us a sneak and peak of Fool For You? Or at least the summary? Pretty pleaseee 🥹

AH yes of course!! I’m so excited for this one.

Here’s the summary:

after months of fooling around with the cute guy you met drunk in an elevator, you started to feel more than just lust for him. Knowing he is bad news, you continue to fall, despite his attempts to tell you not to.

“Don’t be a fool, y/n. Don’t waste your time with me.”

“But I am! Jesus Wooyoung I am such a fool for you.”

And here’s a nice little sneak peek ;)

You drowned out your sound mind, spoiling your insides with the toxin called alcohol. It soared through your bloodstream, burning your nose and your throat and your heart. The burn felt good during a time like this. Anything to feel something other than the ache in your empty chest.

That brings you back to your building, drunk, alone, and vulnerable. Before the doors closed on your pity party, a lean, bony hand reached to block the metal doors from closing.

The doors opened back up, revealing a devastatingly beautiful man in their wake. He stood confidently, a red hoodie covering his frame. The hood was up over his head, but his face was visible—honey-brown eyes sparkling right at you. His hair was dark, you weren't sure if it was black or brown, and his lips were a soft pink. You flushed as he smiled at you, and despite his good looks, he seemed to be under the influence as well.

He walked into the elevator hesitantly, looking over at you after pressing his floor. You stood in silence, both drunk, both defenseless.

“What is that, spiced rum?” he leaned forward, even if he was in the other corner of the elevator. He sniffed slightly, tilting his head. As he did that, his hood fell down to his shoulders. “Or is it whiskey?”

You blinked at him, unsure of what he just asked. His gaze was hazy, his lips were parted. He looked like he just got fucked, with his hair a mess and his eyes lowered. Your mind was racing with so much thought, and none of it was clean.

you blinked.

“I don't remember.”

Hopefully you enjoyed that!!

🫶🫶

#sneak peek #ateez wooyoung #request #subtly based off don’t be a fool by Shawn mendes

[wolfmoonmusic]

Alright people. I'm in a Valentine's Day mood. If anyone has any requests, please, please, send 'em in. Here's how you do it:

Choose a character :

The list can be found here

Choose:

Fluff

Angst/Fluff (I can't bring myself to write pure angst yet)

Platonic or daughter/sister!reader

Send in a dialogue, or a scenario you'd like me to write about

That's basically it!

#x reader #request #angst #fluff #kaz brekker x reader #james potter fluff #remus lupin fluff #one shot #angst with a happy ending #loki x reader #the maruaders #sirius black x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #marvel #avengers x y/n #harry styles x reader #shawn mendes x reader

[carnal-lnstinct]

I'm playing dbz xenoverse 2 and loving it. Can I request something with Goku and or Vegeta? Where the reader is human a strong human but Fu wants to see her become stronger (I feel like fu is a bit of a creep and a little yandere 😅 ) so he uses the dragon balls to make her half saiyan. How would Goku and or Vegeta react to that? And the reader is a little panicked and asking them what they need to know about being a sayan other than being careful around a full moon.

Thank you for the request, but all the available request slots have been filled. Sorry about that.

But I do like this! So I can give you a general idea of how that would go because you used the magic words ♥

Goku or Vegeta, or both because we share in this house, they're going to want to test just how much stronger you really are if you became half-saiyan

Not that they really needed to hold back on you before, but now it feels like they can really go for a true fight with you

Vegeta's your biggest source for intel move over cabba and tunks he's got a new favorite and will be the one to guide you through the basics of saiyans. Makes sure you don't let your emotions get out of hand as it does have an effect on the way you fight now. He'll make you mad to prove it. Show you how to tuck your tail around your hips and the proper way to train its weakness so you don't falter to it being grabbed.

Of course with how strong you already were, going through the first three super saiyan transformations is pretty easy with Vegeta's help.

While Vegeta's the one exposing your limits, Goku's the one who's gonna test them. You can really endure a lot more now. He's popping off SSB Kaoiken right at the start and coming at you. He purposely overpowers you to test your resilience, your fortitude, and you're overall focus in the face of someone stronger. Not at all expecting you to win, but of course he's gotta make sure you take what Vegeta's said about your emotions and use it to your advantage. You take that and keep pushing yourself, then you pass his test.

No need to worry about moons in Conton since it's always sunny, but should be careful anywhere else

And naturally, your appetite has shot up through the roof. You can almost out-eat them.

How it happens

Guarantee, if Fu is behind it then it's already a messy matter. But it's probably not permanent either, as he's just making a fun change to view the outcome and take some energy from it which would set everything right again. Now take that, and say we up the creepy yandere factor. You're the one he would consider his first real friend since being able to utilize his power to alter history. For some reason, you can see through all his changes from the moment he made it so Demigra was The Supreme Kai of Time instead of Chronoa. And then you, a human, took on two super saiyan 4s in a dimension filled with god ki. You're already strong enough to undo all of his toying with history, but you never really stop him when you have the chance. It was foolish for Dabura to want him to destroy you, you're way too interesting for that! So he acted out against his uncle to save you and your friends, too. He could get to play with you more without those petty demon realm ambitions in his way. So long as he was free to do what he wanted, he could always do what was needed to get your attention.

Why, then, should Goku and Vegeta get to have you for themselves while he's forced to be hunted down by you. You're his friend too, he's not a threat to you. Never to you.

He can't stop you from interfering with his changes in history, the fun in that was getting to see you. But he would never allow you to endanger yourself beyond his help. You're strong for a human, and yet you could be stronger.

Saiyans can't help you with that no matter how hard you train with them. So maybe you need his help to do so. He steals a wish on the dragon balls where they are already gathered (the first of his time changes for your attention). He uses his wish to alter you and makes you into a half-saiyan, half-human hybrid. Tail and all. Because if he made you a full saiyan you would have more reason to hang around them.

You're definitely spiraling through a lot of emotions in your panic over your altered form, but you can't really take the time to make sense of it with that big change in history making itself known. You get sent out on your mission with your saiyan buds to fix it, but it just ends up worse.

Because how dare you bring them along with you. Fu's determined to prove he's out to help you, even if he must turn you against your so-called friends. You're connected to this change in history now, so you're easily influenced by the corrupted time energy from it that he manipulates.

Now you're acting completely different. From worrisome, to agitated, to full-on rage. Being half-saiyan now, you feel your power growing hot within you. Not only that, but the time energy that changed you is starting to run wild through you. Pushing you to fight everything.

Energy rising and blinded by Fu's influence, you can only feel yourself getting stronger and pushing through the transformations you did learn.

Fu's not gonna let you lose, of course. The more you fight them, the more energy is put off from the change in time, and the more energy he can give you. That is until Goku and Vegeta figure it out and abandon their fight with you to take on Fu.

In the end, Fu is forced to escape once more. With history restored and the correct wish made on the dragon balls, it's like the wish to make you half-saiyan never happened and you're turned back to normal.

At least until Fu next's experiment for you.

#my writing #Fu is the dark side of shawn mendes' 'there's nothing holding me back' #goku imagine #vegeta imagine #♚ ;; [ asks ] #♚ ;; [ requests ]

[hollywedits]

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes icons #icons #twitter icons #twitter stuffs #random icons #boys icons #icons without psd #request

[yournameoneverypage]

Snuggle Bug

Shawn Mendes x Reader. Established relationship.

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: My first sick fic...!! 🤒 Soft and fluffy, as per the request. I hope I did it justice and that y’all like it. ☺️

~*❤️*~

You threw yourself into your fiancé’s arms the moment you saw him step through the arrivals gate early Friday evening at Toronto’s Pearson airport. Shawn had been commuting between Los Angeles and New York for the past month and you had missed him something fierce.

He caught you like he usually did, but he almost lost his balance and, laughing softly, he set you back on your feet.

“Hi baby,” he sighed, enveloping you in his arms and burying his lips in the crook of your neck. “God, I missed you.”

“I missed you more,” you hummed back, breathing in the scent of him. It was off in the slightest of ways, but you pushed your concern aside. It was probably just the smell of the flight still clinging to him.

You hadn’t ever been one of those couples who sucked face in public, so it didn’t wholly surprise you that he didn’t add a kiss to your greeting. There’d be plenty of time for that once you were, at the very least, behind the tinted windows of your vehicle.

He transferred his guitar case to the same side where he had his carry-on hooked over his shoulder so that he could have a hand free to link with yours. He leaned into you slightly.

“Tired, my love?” you murmured.

“A little,” he exhaled, unconvincingly.

You knew him well enough to tell when he wasn’t being entirely truthful with you. He had been working himself to exhaustion in meetings with his team, writing and producing with musician friends, recording new music of his own, doing press for his movie, and house hunting. You could see it in his eyes with every FaceTime call.

He needed at least two full days’ rest wrapped in your arms, and that’s exactly what you were going to give him.

///

Shawn was dragging his feet as you made your way to where his Tesla was parked. He was definitely more tired than he let on. He never wanted you to worry about him, but of course, you did anyway, even when, - especially when, - he tried to assure you that he was fine.

You popped the trunk and reached for his guitar case and carry-on. “Get in the car, baby,” you smiled softly, touching his cheek. “I’ll take care of this.” He usually fought you on things like that, but this time he didn’t. He nodded thankfully and entered on the passenger side.

The moment you slid behind the wheel and closed the door after you, Shawn reached for your hand. “I’m so happy to be home,” he breathed, leaning over the console of the car and dropping small kisses along your jawline from your temple to your chin.

You knew when he said ‘home’ he didn’t necessarily mean Toronto. You were, after all, in the midst of relocating to LA. When he said ‘home’, he meant you. You were his home. You traveled with him as often as you could, - most of your work could be done remotely, - but the past month had been especially busy and you’d needed to be on site.

You were essentially doing the work of two as management strived to fill a couple of positions before your transition to full remote. Things had finally settled enough for you to take a few days off into the next week and you were going to spend every minute with Shawn, reconnecting and loving all over each other.

You tipped your head and his lips descended to your neck and you giggled. You took his face in your hands and finally claimed the kiss you’d been aching for for weeks.

He hummed contentedly as he eased away. “Missed your kisses, too.” He then brought your hand to his lips.

You tried to withdraw it but he tightened his grip as his head fell against the seat and his loving gaze met yours. He was so soft and clingy, which made sense as you hadn’t had any physical contact for way too long. You hated to ruin the moment, but you snickered, “I need both hands to get outta here, bub.”

“Get outta here then so I can have it back,” he murmured with a small smirk.

///

You and Shawn dropped his things inside your condo door. Unpacking and gifts, for he always brought you something from his travels, could wait a while longer.

“Dinner?” you asked, pulling him further inside, toward the kitchen, since he’d once again glued his hand to yours, and also his chin to your shoulder and his front to your back.

“Not hungry. Maybe later. Unless, of course, you’re hungry, my love.”

“I’m alright.” You turned around in his embrace and melted into his warmth. “How about a nap?”

It was music to his ears. He’d missed your bed almost as much as he’d missed you, and he particularly missed you in your bed. “Yes, please.” 

‘Nap’ was usually synonymous with sex in your home, and the first thing you normally did when Shawn had been away, even if only for a few days, was make love. After a month, you were craving him, acutely.

But when he crawled into bed after you and curled himself around you, resting his head on your stomach, instead of pulling your and his clothes off, you knew he genuinely wasn’t feeling well.

You tangled one hand in his curls and scratched the fingernails of the other across his upper back beneath his tank top.

Shawn was always warm, but he seemed especially so that evening. “Are you okay, baby? You’re really warm.”

“’m fine,” he mumbled, already half-asleep.

You brought your hand from his hair to his forehead. “I don’t think you are,” you frowned. “I think you have a fever.”

“Don’t want you to worry ’bout me.”

“Too bad. It’s part of the job description as your devoted fiancée. As is taking care of you when you’re sick.”

“Don’t wan’be sick,” he pouted.

“Unfortunately, you can’t just wish it away, bub. I’m gonna get you some soup, because you really should eat something, and then see if we have some meds.” You began to extricate yourself from your clingy fiancé, but he further tightened himself around you.

“Stay. Please,” he whispered. “Just need you here. Just need some sleep. Be fine in th’mornin’.”

And with that, he was out like a light.

///

Surprisingly, you fell asleep almost as quickly. Now that Shawn was home again and in your arms where he belonged, and your body and mind truly realized you had a few days without deadlines or expectations ahead of you, you fell into your own sort of exhaustion.

You woke a few hours later, having barely moved, to a rumbling in your stomach. You contemplated whether or not to try to ignore it and go back to sleep.

Ultimately, you untangled yourself from Shawn, successfully this time, and padded into the kitchen to warm up some soup for you both. You would try to rouse him to eat and drink and take some medication before falling back to sleep for, hopefully, the entirety of the night. You wanted to try to get ahead of whatever was ailing him.

You felt his presence in the kitchen before you felt him wrap his arms around you from behind. “I woke up and you weren’t there,” he whined, voice a little raspy.

You rubbed his forearms, now covered with the fleece of his favorite bear-stamped sweater. He must’ve gotten cold, even if you could still feel his body radiating heat. You looked over your shoulder to see heavy eyes, mussed hair, and pink-stained cheeks. It wasn’t fair; even when he was sick he was stupidly attractive.

“Sit,” you instructed, urging him toward the stools at the kitchen island. He did. “I want you to eat, drink, and take your meds,” you gently, yet firmly, demanded, placing a bowl of soup, a glass of water, and two Tylenol Cold and Flu capsules before him.

“I’m not sick,” he tried to argue.

You hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek. “Humor me, bub.” You then sat beside him with your own bowl of soup and glass of water. He pulled you as close as possible without you ending up in his lap.

You weren’t satisfied till he’d slurped the last spoonful of chicken and vegetables, drained his glass of water, and swallowed his pills.

The short stop-off in the kitchen had exhausted him all over again.

“Go back to bed, baby, I’ll be there as soon as I clean up.”

Still, he offered, “I’ll help.”

“You will not. Go.”

“Can’t we clean up in the morning?” he frowned.

He looked so downtrodden, you didn’t want to deny him anything. You glanced around the kitchen, - it would take all of three minutes, - but before you could contest, Shawn’s hand was in yours and he was leading you back to your room.

After using the bathroom, and completing an abridged bedtime routine, you were back in bed and curled around one another, yet with less clothing. Shawn had again grown too warm and had divested himself of his sweater and tank top and you only wore your little boyshort underwear and one of Shawn’s old t-shirts.

“Do you wanna...?” he whispered, his hand slipping beneath the tee and up your back.

He would put forth his best effort, even as tired and unwell as he was feeling, because he’d missed making love with you as much as you had, and he was selfless like that. But so were you. The intimacy of just being able to hold one another close enough to share breath was everything you needed right then.

There was no way you could get any closer than you were, but that didn’t stop him from trying to crawl into your skin. 

“You can ravish me in the morning,” you promised with a smirk he could feel against the juncture between his jaw and ear.

He tenderly wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and sighed an ‘I love you’ before his eyes fluttered closed.

///

Shawn’s tossing and turning began around 2am. He was alternately too cold, buried under the comforter and flush against you, or too hot, blankets thrown off and balancing his giant, sweat-sheened body on the edge of the mattress. Regardless, he still needed some sort of skin to skin contact at all times, reaching for you, even in sleep, if only to touch his fingertips to yours.

His fever hadn’t broken yet; in fact, he seemed a little warmer as he was currently facing you, with only his forehead touching yours, again in that ‘too hot’ state. You did your best to attune yourself to his hot and cold fluctuations and adjusted the blankets accordingly whenever you were conscious enough to do so.

He finally, thankfully, fell into a deep, restful sleep around four-thirty.

A rattling cough startled you awake just after eight.

“Sorry,” Shawn croaked.

“Come here, Love,” you murmured, drawing him toward you. You lovingly traced the contours of his face with your fingertips. “How are you feeling?”

“’m sick,” he rasped, finally admitting what you already knew. “Shouldn’t’ve kissed you. Now you’re gonna get sick, too. ’m sorry.” His eyes were emotion filled and limned with unshed tears.

You shrugged. “We’ll be sick together then. No sorries, baby. Kissing you was, and is, worth the risk.” You moved to kiss him again.

He pulled his head away. “No. There’s still a chance to save yourself.”

You giggled. “I assume all responsibility. You can even say ‘I told you so’.”

“Oh, I will,” he smirked, but he could no longer deny you what you both wanted so badly. He brought his mouth to yours for a few moments of languorous kissing. He hummed against your lips.

When you eased away, you dipped your thumb in the divot of his chin. Your voice softened and cracked when you whispered, “It was too long without you this time.”

“I know,” he exhaled, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “Things will settle after the move.”

“You’re still too warm,” you said, kissing his forehead and frowning. “What hurts?”

“Everything,” he sniffled. “Throat’s sore. My chest is a little tight. My head hurts. My body hurts. ’m cold. You’re warm,” he sighed, cuddling even closer.

“I’m going to make you something to eat, and hot tea for your throat. And let’s get another dose of meds into you too, okay?”

He wasn’t hungry, and the thought of swallowing anything was currently a little overwhelming, but he was well aware that his immune system needed the boost. He also knew it would make you feel better if he at least tried to eat and hydrate. That alone was enough.

He reluctantly loosened his hold on you to allow you out of bed. You rounded to his side and organized a mound of pillows at his back. You turned on the television and asked, “What do you want to watch?”

He looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “It’s Saturday morning.”

“Of course,” you chuckled and flipped to Cartoon Network. “How silly of me.” Saturdays were always no gym, breakfast in bed, cartoon mornings.

You peppered kisses along his jaw and into his neck. “Love you. I’ll be right back, ’k?”

His eyes, filled with adoration, found yours. “Thank you,” he breathed. “I love you.”

With an affectionate smile, you ran a hand gently through his curls before leaving him in the company of ‘6teen’ to go make breakfast.

Shawn stumbled into the kitchen with the duvet wrapped tightly around him just as you had finished organizing the breakfast tray. You laughed. “You’re supposed to be in bed!”

He opened the blanket and drew you into his cocoon. “I missed you.”

You wrapped your arms around his torso, hugged him to you, and tipped your head up to kiss his chin. “I’ve been gone less than ten minutes, bub,” you snickered. 

“Less than ten minutes is too long,” he affirmed. “And I needed more Kleenex.”

“Go on now. I’ll be right behind you with the tray and a box of tissues.”

You had balanced two bowls of honey-sweetened oatmeal with blueberries and strawberries, two cups of citrus-honey green tea, another dose of Tylenol, and now a new box of tissues on the tray. You set it in the middle of your bed after Shawn had once again gotten as comfortable as possible and before you climbed back in beside him.

All throughout breakfast, Shawn craved your warmth. You were too hot encased in the duvet with him, but you endured it because he was sick and snuggly and needed you. And even with that, and a belly full of oatmeal and tea, he wasn’t warm enough.

You cupped his face and he leaned into your touch. “How about I run you a hot bath?”

He nodded tiredly.

He sat on the closed toilet seat with the blanket still wrapped around him while you began to prepare his bath in your heated soaking tub big enough for two. His insistence on being wherever you were was endearing.

You were often invading each other’s bubble on any given day, but being apart for weeks, coupled with him feeling unwell, made for an especially clingy boy.

You added a few drops of essential oils to water just shy of too hot and soon the bathroom was steamy and aromatic. Shawn could already feel the soothing effects of eucalyptus and peppermint as he filled his loosening lungs with deep breaths.

“I’m afraid you have to peel yourself out of the blanket and your clothes to get in, bub. Quick as you can. A few moments of cold and then you’ll be as warm as can be.”

You pushed the duvet off his shoulders and pulled his sweatshirt and tank top up and over his head. He shivered and quickly removed his joggers and boxer briefs himself before stepping into the tub.

He sunk in, up to his chin, sighing deeply, eyes closing. You began to gather the dirties to deposit into the hamper, and then the comforter to return to your bedroom.

“Don’t go,” he pleaded, reaching out to encircle his hand around the back of your knee.

You crouched down beside the tub to bring yourself eye level with him. You tangled a hand in his hair and gave his scalp a gentle scratch. “How about you let me clean up after breakfast and change the sheets, and then I’ll get in with you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be away for ten minutes, maybe fifteen. Think you can handle that?” you teased.

“Meanie,” he scowled.

You laughed softly and leaned in to kiss him. He fell back against the bath pillow and again closed his eyes.

///

You turned the heat up a few degrees on your way to the kitchen with the tray of dirty breakfast dishes.

After the kitchen was clean, you returned to your bedroom to strip the bed of the sheets Shawn had sweated through earlier that morning and tossed them in the washer. You then remade the bed before pulling clean boxer briefs, joggers, a tank top, sweatshirt, and socks from Shawn’s dresser drawers.

Less than fifteen minutes later and you were back in the humid, fragrant bathroom. Shawn smiled contentedly at your return. You removed your engagement ring, placing it safely on the ring holder, - you never wore it in the bath or shower, - twisted your hair up into a messy bun, pulled your shirt off, and slipped out of your boy shorts. He scooted forward enough for you to climb into the bathtub behind him.

Your new home in LA had to have a heated soaking tub as well; it was one of your mutual must-haves for intimate moments just like this. If it didn’t, Shawn had promised to have one installed.

He relaxed into you, his hands stroking the backs of your thighs which had found their way around his hips. You draped your arms over his shoulders and began to run your fingertips through the hair on his chest.

You didn’t talk much, even though his throat was already feeling better, speaking instead with soft touches and caresses, entwined hands and palm and wrist kisses. You absorbed each other’s very essence, letting your body rhythms continue to re-attune to one another’s, as you soaked in the hot water.

Everyone outside of your relationship found it truly amazing that you and Shawn were almost always in harmony. You easily finished each other’s sentences, and often knew what the other wanted or needed without having to say anything at all.

Once you were both thoroughly waterlogged, and Shawn was finally warm deep into his bones, you lovingly washed his hair. 

///

Shawn sighed blissfully as he pulled on the clean boxers and joggers you’d laid out for him, - he was warm enough now not to need anything else, - and slid into bed between clean sheets.

“Try to sleep, hm?” you murmured. What he needed more than anything was sleep. You placed your hand to his forehead and, much to your relief, his fever had finally broken.

You suspected it wouldn’t take long for him to doze off now that he was warm and his body aches had eased. The Tylenol had dulled his headache and the lozenge you had given him, which he was currently sucking on, was soothing his sore throat.

You assured him you were coming back to bed as soon as you put the sheets in the dryer and retrieved some fresh water for your bedside.

He was barely holding onto consciousness by the time you returned. You made him sit up and drink as much of the cold coconut water as he was willing and able to. You then crawled back into bed beside him.

He whispered another ‘thank you’ and yet another ‘I love you’ before he succumbed.

Before you allowed yourself to fall asleep as well, you turned off the television and reached for Shawn’s phone next to yours on the nightstand. You had placed it in ‘do not disturb mode’ as soon as you’d known he was sick.

You entered his passcode to check his texts and voicemails for anything which might be pressing, and returned the necessary calls and messages.

From your own phone you called Shawn’s mom to let her know you weren’t going to make it to dinner that night because her son was sick with what you suspected was the flu.

You promised Karen she didn’t need to come over; that you would be home with him for as long as he needed you to be, and that you were taking the very best care of him. And yes, you would have him call her himself when he was up again and hopefully feeling better.

Despite your and, later that afternoon, Shawn’s assurances, Karen and Manny still drove into the city from Pickering to bring dinner to you. Baked Parmesan zucchini, homemade spaghetti and meat sauce, and a small plate of brownies, all gluten-free, of course.

They didn’t stay long. Shawn was still fatigued and achy as his immune system fought against his illness, but they were happy to see him eating, even if his portions were smaller than usual, and otherwise being well taken care of. Karen adored you, and trusted you wholeheartedly, but she was still his mother and he was her baby boy.

Karen insisted on cleaning up after dinner. She wouldn’t even accept your help.

She and Manny risked close contact, - after all, they also hadn’t seen Shawn for a month, - by giving him (and you) huge hugs before they left.

You fell into bed that evening, again wrapped up in one another, and slept, deep and restful, straight through till morning.

///

You woke up alone. Shawn’s side of the bed was empty. You listened for sounds of him from the bathroom. Instead you heard the strumming of his guitar from outside your bedroom, interspersed with some slight coughing.

He looked up from his playing to find you leaning against the archway with one of your small smiles only for him on your face. “Good morning, baby,” he returned your smile.

You crossed over to him, curling up on the couch beside him. You reached out to give a playful scritch to the stubble along his jawline. “Whatcha doin’ out here?”

“I woke up early and couldn’t fall back to sleep. I feel like I’ve done nothing but sleep for thirty-six hours,” he chuckled.

“You needed it...”

He simply nodded his agreement. He brushed a lock of hair from your eyes and tucked it behind your ear. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

You shook your head and then asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he smiled, just before a small fit of coughing began again.

Your brow furrowed.

“It sounds worse than it feels,” he laughed. “It’s good, it’s loose. I can breathe deep.” And he drew a deep breath to reassure you.

For the flu, it was certainly a mild case if he was already feeling better. It made you hopeful that if you did end up also getting sick, you’d get through it just as quickly.

Now that you were up, Shawn voiced his desire to get out of the house for some fresh air.

It was a cold morning, with a slight coating of snow across the grass from the night before, so you dressed warm. You tucked scarves into your coats and made the short walk over to your favorite café for coffee and pastries.

You spent the rest of the morning gaming. You made lunch together. You fell asleep while watching movies and cuddling on the living room sofa. You ate Karen’s leftovers for dinner, all of them. (Spaghetti was always better the next day.) Shawn’s appetite was much improved.

His color and his strength were also a lot better.

Back in bed after dinner, you sat shoulder to shoulder in front of Shawn’s laptop as he showed you the latest of the LA homes he’d bookmarked, one which had just come on the market. He hoped it wasn’t gone before you returned to LA with him the week after the one upcoming.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me,” he sighed, out of nowhere, as if it was an afterthought. “You always do.”

You dropped a kiss to his bare shoulder and murmured, “Always will.”

“You’re gonna be the best mommy.”

His comment wasn’t exactly surprising; you’d just looked at photos of the aforementioned property, one of which was a nursery.

Still, you teased, chuckling, “Do you know something I don’t?”

He laughed. “Just manifesting. For the future.”

“Let’s get through the move and our wedding first, hm? Then we’ll talk babies.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Shawn closed his laptop and set it on the nightstand before turning to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I seem to remember another promise made.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. Something about ravishing you...?”

You grinned, giggled, “You’re sure you’re feeling well enough for ‘ravishing’?”

“I feel well enough to sure as hell try,” he smirked, swiftly maneuvering you beneath him and tugging the duvet over your heads.

~*~

@mendesblurb @monikamendes @mendesficsxbombay @silverswallow @chocochipcookie305 @misti-ka @fallinallinshawn @hiding-behind-a-flower @benito-mi-vida

(Is there anyone who wishes to be added or removed from my meager taglist? There are at least three of the above who I don't think read my writing anymore, or are even on tumblr these days.)

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes request #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fiction #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes sick!fic

[violetsandfluff]

“What do you mean, you haven’t ice skated before?” Shawn asked, laughing in disbelief.

“I mean, I haven’t I’ve skated before,” Y/N responded with an embarrassed grin. “Just the way it sounds.”

“Well come on!” Shawn exclaimed, eyes aglow with excitement. “I can teach you, it’s pretty easy.”

“Okay,” Y/N agreed as she collected her winter gear. “I hope beginner’s luck really does exist.”

“You don’t need luck,” Shawn replied as he kissed her forehead. “You’ll do great. It’s also pretty fun, so…” he trailed off with a laugh when he noticed the look on her face as she tried to lace her boots. “Need any help with that, Sweetie?”

“Make yourself useful, Shawn,” was her response.

On the way to the rink, Shawn flooded her brain with all sorts of information about skating: how to put on the skates, how to stand without wobbling, he acted like it was the easiest thing ever.

Getting the skates on was the easy bit, gliding effortlessly along on the ice was the hard part.

“Shawn…” Y/N said, voice wavering as she wobbled unsteadily on her skates. They were somewhat uncomfortable and balancing was harder than she had imagined. “Ohmygod, Shawn!” Her arms flailed around her as she fell into him, gripping desperately at his shoulders.

“Stand up,” Shawn laughed as he steadied her.

She stood up only to fall right back into him.

“You know what?” he asked, eyes gleaming playfully. “I don’t think beginner’s luck applies to you, darling girl, sorry.”

Taglist: @pamelagramm

#🦢💌 #🦢💌 requested #🫧anon #Shawn mendes #blurb #fanfic #imagine #fluff #Shawn mendes blurb #Shawn mendes fanfic #Shawn mendes imagine #Shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes x y/n #flutterfly alley #yellow 💛 heart

[infinitydivine]

I don't know if you know this but Shawn wrote a song after the breakup called "If we don't love like we used to" and the song you posted has a very similar lyric omg you're the real thing girl 🤯😯

And what is it when the cards don't want to come out

Nope, dear, I didn't have any clue about this song. Thanks for letting, me know tho.

So about cards, there are random situations where I shuffle the deck multiple times but still cards don't come and even if they pop up they don't make sense at all. In this case, they didn't want to come out instead Spitrits told me about this song instead.

Hope this clears your doubts.

#celebrity asks #celebrity tarot #shawn mendes #camilla cabello #tarot #tarot reading #tarot requests #tarot related #tarot deck #celebrity readings

[jiejie-eonni-onee-sama]

The player & The writer

For my cutie @marilynmonroefanfics​ ❤️❤️❤️ 

Hope you’ll enjoy!

Pedro Delgado was sitting on his sofa and phoning his publisher. The latter was very enthusiastic:

"I received your latest manuscript, Pedro. And I love it! Who would have thought it possible to make the Braganza dynasty and their links with France interesting? Frankly, bravo!"

"Glad to see you like it!"

For Pedro, it was a relief: even if he was one of the most well-known historians in Europe, the young man always worried about the quality of his works.

Luckily for him, he worked for one of the most prestigious publishers in France.

"Of course, I love it! You never disappoint me, dear! I'll show it to the marketing team, and we will discuss a publication date later. Does it sound good to you?"

"Sounds perfect to me!"

"Excellent! Take a rest, and see you later!"

"See you later!"

The young man heard the door open. 

To his delight, his companion, Antoine Griezmann, entered:

"Hello, sweetheart. How was your day?"

"Fine, thanks. I've progressed on my latest book about the queens of Europe and just had my editor on the phone."

"Oh yeah? And what did he tell you? That you won the Goncourt prize?"

"Very funny! On a more serious note, he said he loved my manuscript about the Braganza dynasty and that he prepared the publicity!"

"Great! I'm sure it will be a big hit in bookstores!"

Pedro rolled his eyes, amused, before asking:

"How was your last training session with Atlético de Madrid?"

"It was fun, but I was impatient to return to the national team: that's where all my mates are!"

The historian smiled: he knew his lover felt more comfortable with the French team than with his club.

At that moment, anyone who saw this scene would wonder why a historian would date a footballer.

It all started one night when Pedro found himself in a nightclub, forced by his friends, who were party animals. 

While his friends were dancing on the dancefloor, the young man was sitting at the bar, looking bored and looking for the perfect opportunity to go home.

Lost in his thoughts, Pedro had not heard someone sit down next to him and ask:

"Is everything all right?"

The historian turned around and saw that a man was standing right next to him. Despite the darkness, Pedro could make out some of the features of the man who talked to him: tall, with blond hair, blue eyes and fair skin.

Stunned, the young historian spoke with difficulty:

"Y...Yeah, I'm fine."

"Really? You seem lost to me. I'd even say you're out of your element."

"Does it show that much?" grinned Pedro.

"A little," smiled his interlocutor.

The historian stifled a curse.

"I didn't need that: to look like a fool! I should have stayed home!"

"Don't look so grim! Here, I'll buy you a drink to cheer you up!"

"That's nice of you, sir..."

"Call me Antoine. And you, what is your first name?"

"Pedro."

"Nice name! Where does it come from?"

"From Portugal!"

"Portugal? And what's a nice Portuguese guy doing here in France?"

"For my research: I'm a historian."

"An intellectual. Interesting!"

They spent part of the evening chatting and laughing until Antoine offered him a lift home.

It was when they left the nightclub that Pedro recognised the man he was talking to:

"But... You are Antoine Griezmann!"

"In person. I'm glad you didn't recognise me: I could have a real conversation, which is not always the case."

"You don't seem to hold a grudge against Portugal, even after Euro 2016."

The footballer pretended to be offended:

"Why do you have to remind me of this painful moment? I don't hold a grudge against the Portuguese team anymore. I'm just waiting to punch Cristiano Ronaldo's beautiful new nose!"

This remark made Pedro laugh out loud. Antoine imitated him, delighted that he got on well with his interlocutor.

After calming down, the two men jumped into Antoine's car and drove home.

Once in front of Pedro's house, Antoine asked, blushing:

"Can.. Can we meet again?"

The young historian considered that he had made the right choice in accepting the footballer's request.

After this first meeting, the two men met regularly, and gradually a romance developed.

And Antoine was the ideal boyfriend for Pedro: crazy in love, caring, supportive, funny and intelligent.

As for the football player, he kept telling himself how lucky he was to be the historian's lover: in addition to having a lot of charm, Pedro was adorable (when blushing), patient, intelligent, calm, and passionate about what he did.

For the time being, they hid their romance from the general public, Pedro being a shy man and Antoine wanting to preserve his personal life.

The Atletico Madrid player knew that his coming out had not only provoked positive reactions, and he was keen to keep his companion free from hatred.

Even his teammates did not know that he had a boyfriend!

But the most important thing was that they could find each other, despite their busy schedules.

The two lovers spent the rest of the evening entwined in the large bed in their room.

Resting against Antoine's chest, Pedro relaxed while enjoying the footballer's hands caressing his head.

After a few minutes of silence, the historian asked:

"Are you going to Clairefontaine tomorrow?"

Antoine nodded.

"The gathering is tomorrow: we have several games to play!"

"You're going to meet your mates: it will be fun!"

"I know..."

The football player sighed.

"I'd love to show you around Clairefontaine one day. Maybe when I'm ready to introduce you to the others..."

"Antoine, don't put pressure on yourself because of me."

"It's not that: it's just that...My whole team has supported me since I came out, but I dread their reaction when they see me with you. I don't want them to say hurtful things to you or worse."

The footballer felt his lover's hand caress his cheek.

"Take as much time as you need, and when you're ready, I'll be there for you."

Antoine kissed his boyfriend.

"Did I ever tell you that you were the best?"

"Even in your sleep!"

"That's because I think that every day!"

Pedro smiled.

"I'm lucky to have you."

"You say that in your sleep..."

"I mean it!"

Waiting for a new day to begin, the two lovers fell asleep peacefully.

⚽⚽⚽⚽⚽⚽⚽

The next day. Clairefontaine training centre.

"Come on, Antoine! Say yes!"

"Come on, Toine-Toine: you can tell us everything!"

"Give me a break!"

"TELL US EVERYTHING!"

Antoine rolled his eyes: since this morning, Lucas and Theo Hernandez have not stopped asking him questions about his "secret lover".

Even though Antoine hadn't told them anything, the Hernandez brothers knew that Antoine had a boyfriend, and they wanted to meet him.

"Come on, be nice: we are your best friends! We care about your well-being!"

"Respect my privacy!"

But the Hernandezes were not the type to let go, and they continued to hound him with questions, even into the dining room where the rest of the team was.

"Give us some detail: is he handsome?" asked Lucas.

"Is he famous?" asked Theo.

"Please tell me he likes football: otherwise, he'll be a pain in the ass!"

"LEAVE ME ALONE, BOTH OF YOU!" exploded Antoine, startling all his teammates - Benjamin Pavard nearly choked on his mouthful.

"Uh, Antoine? Are you all right?" asked Hugo Lloris.

"Except those two have been pestering me since this morning: I'm fine," grumbled Antoine.

"We're not bothering you: we just want to know if you have anyone in your life!"

"Mind your own business! And who says I'm in a relationship?"

"So, who is the person you call 'my darling' on the phone?" asked Presnel Kimpembe, making the others laugh.

"Lord, give me patience..." grumbled Antoine, pinching the bridge of his nose

"Wouldn't it be more like strength?" asked Raphaël.

"No, otherwise I'll kill all three of them - him and the Hernandezes!"

Olivier Giroud intervened.

"Calm down, guys. There's no need to get upset!"

He turned to Lucas and Theo.

"There's no point in pestering Antoine about it: if he doesn't want to talk about it, he won't!"

"Ah, thanks, Olivier!"

But the striker saw his teammate smile.

"But since we know you have a boyfriend, I think we can finally get to know him, don't you?"

"YEAH!" exclaimed the other players.

"Traitor!" ranted Antoine as he facepalmed.

Suddenly, the voice of Didier Deschamps, the coach of the French team, was heard:

"Get ready, guys: we start training again in an hour!"

All the players headed to their rooms to change, including Antoine.

As the player entered his room, he heard someone calling him:

"Don't close the door: I'm coming!"

The striker let in Paul Pogba, his teammate and best friend.

The midfielder asked mischievously:

"So, is that it? You'll have to introduce your darling to the whole team!"

"Yeah, and I'm not happy about it!"

"Why not? I'm sure it'll do: they'll love Pedro!"

"I appreciate your optimism, Piochi, but I can't help it. I'm so afraid that Pedro will become a target for homophobes that I don't trust anyone!"

Paul pretended to be offended:

"Even me?"

"No, not you! You're the only one on the team who knows Pedro!"

Indeed, Paul met his best friend's lover by pure chance when he visited Antoine in Paris. After knocking at the door, he had come face to face with Pedro, who had opened the door for him.

After the surprise, the Juventus Turin player found the young historian "super adorable" and "too cute" and knew Antoine would be happy.

Antoine sighed:

"I do not know what to do."

Paul patted his shoulder in comfort.

"Don't worry, mate: you can count on me to support you!"

The attacker cracked a smile.

"Thank you, Paul."

"At your service, my Grizou. Come on, come on: we're late for training!"

👟👟👟👟👟👟

After the training, all the players took time to stretch and take a shower. As Antoine was leaving with Paul, Didier called him:

"Antoine, come here, please!"

Surprised, Antoine told Paul:

"I'll join you later!"

"Okay, see you in a minute!"

Antony walked over to his coach and asked:

"Yes, coach?"

"I thought I heard you yelling earlier. Is everything okay?"

"Huh? Oh yes, it was nothing: I had a row with Lucas and Theo, but nothing serious!

"Would that be about your mystery lover?" asked Didier with an amused smile.

The attacker slapped his forehead.

"Who told you about it?"

"News travels fast, you know. But if you want details, I heard Ousmane and Alphonse talking about it."

"Great! Now the whole French team knows!"

Didier patted him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry: I'm not judging you. In fact, I'm rather happy to know that you have someone in your life. I'm already proud of you for having the courage to admit your homosexuality to the whole world, and it reassures me to know that you have a partner."

Antoine nodded: Didier was among the first to support him when he came out. He knew he could trust the French team manager, whatever happened.

He sighed:

"They want to meet him!"

"And you don't want to introduce your darling?"

"I don't know... I'm not ashamed of him: it's just that I don't know if the guys would accept him."

Didier understood the struggles of his player. But he also knows that this story would poison the relationship between the players if Antoine is still defiant towards his teammates.

He suggested:

"Listen, son: why don't you talk about it with your boyfriend? It might help you take a decision."

"Yeah... I think I'll do that. Thanks, coach."

"You're welcome. Oh, Antoine?"

"Yes?"

"Does he makes you happy?"

A dreamy grin appeared on Antoine's face.

"More than you could imagine."

"That's what I want to hear. It teases my curiosity: I want to meet your lover too!"

"Please, don't start now!" grumbled Antoine as he left.

"Never say never, Grizou!" laughed Didier.

🏡🏡🏡🏡🏡🏡

Later that day, Antoine got back home.

"Honey, I'm home!"

No answer. The footballer player noticed a piece of paper on the living room table.

He took it and read:

"Went on a bike tour. I will be back for dinner. Love you, Pedro."

Antoine grinned: he remembered that Padro loved to bike riding when he needed time to relax.

While waiting for his lover to return, the footballer took a quick shower and prepared the meal.

Half an hour later, while he was on the train, Antoine heard the front door open, and Pedro entered:

"Hi, honey."

"Hello, my angel. How was your walk?"

"It went well. I'm sorry if I arrived late, but I met a lot of students who wanted to ask me for autographs. You know me: I couldn't refuse!"

"As long as you come home, that's fine with me!"

Pedro smiled before asking:

"And you, how was your training session?"

"It went well: Kylian's legs are on fire, and the guys are motivated for our first game on Saturday."

"Perfect! And how is Paul?"

"He's fine, and he says hello!"

The young historian stealthily kissed his companion on the cheek.

"I'm going to change and take a shower. I won't be long."

"Do you want me to come with you?" asked Antoine with a mischievous smile.

"No, not tonight. But I'm not saying no to a bath after dinner..."

As Pedro walked away to the bathroom, Antoine finished preparing the meal.

Then, once everything was ready, the couple sat down and enjoyed the meal.

While Pedro spoke passionately about his future writing projects, Antoine remained evasive about his day.

This puzzled Pedro: usually, Antoine was more talkative when he was with the French football team.

The young historian decided to leave it until they finished the dinner.

Then, they went into the bath, where the pair relaxed, enjoying this quiet moment.

Pedro chose this moment to ask:

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I don't know: you were not talkative about your teammates. Is something bothering you?"

The football player sighed.

"Not really. It's just... Don't worry!"

"Antoine, you can tell me everything. Go ahead!"

Antoine stayed silent before explaining:

"The guys heard that I'm in a relationship, and they want to meet my boyfriend. In other terms, they want to meet you!"

Pedro stood flabbergasted: he knew that day would come, but it felt too early!

He was not a football expert, but he knew enough. How would he manage with professional players?

Worried about the lack of answer from his boyfriend, Antoine added:

"Since Presnel heard us on the phone, Theo and Lucas harassed me all day, and now the whole team asks about you! Even Didier wants to know about you!"

He sighed.

"I guess I don't have a choice!"

Pedro nodded.

"I see... And what did you tell them?"

"I haven't decided anything yet. I wanted to talk to you about it before I did anything."

The historian sighed before answering:

"Anyway, it was bound to happen sooner or later. We couldn't live in hiding all our lives!"

"I know, but it's just that I want to protect you..."

Pedro stroked his cheek.

"Toinou, I wish you'd worry a little less about me: I've already endured the homophobic comments. I've seen the violence some people can express against someone like us. But I've also seen how wonderfully tolerant people can be, so I'm less afraid. Our families have been very supportive, and I've seen how your teammates stood by you when you came out. Don't worry: I'm much more resilient than you think."

He added with a mischievous smile.

"And as for your problem, I think I have a solution. And you'll like it..."

🎆🎆🎆🎆

The next day.

"But where is Antoine?"

"Relax, Hugo: he said he'd be here in half an hour," Karim reassured him.

"What did he do anyway?" asked N'Golo.

"He said he'd be back with a surprise guest!" explained Ousmane.

"WHO?" asked the other players.

"If I knew that, it wouldn't be a surprise anymore!"

Only Paul remained silent, amused by the commotion: only he knew who was coming with Antoine.

Raphael noted this and asked:

"And you, Paul, aren't you curious to know who is the surprise guest?"

"No more than that."

"You say that like you already know the surprise guest!"

The Juventus midfielder smiled broadly.

"Because I do!"

"And you're just telling us this now?" protested Randal Kolo Muani.

"I didn't want to spoil the surprise!"

"Okay, but that doesn't tell us who it is!" pointed out Mattéo Guendouzi.

Looking out the window, Lucas exclaimed:

"Oh, guys! I see Antoine's car!"

At these words, all the players rushed to the window and saw their friend's car parked in the main yard.

They saw Antoine get out of the vehicle and then go to open the passenger door for a young man.

Reactions were swift, and questions flew:

"Who is he?"

"It's strange: I feel like I've seen this young man somewhere before..."

"Anyway, he's pretty cute!"

For their part, Antoine and Pedro went towards the entrance of the building.

"From what I can see, the welcoming committee is already here!"

"I want to warn you, honey: my teammates are very nice but can be chaotic!"

"I'll manage."

They barely walked through the door when the entire French team greeted them.

"ANTOINE, WHO'S THE GOOD-LOOKING GUY WITH YOU?" 

The striker smiled proudly before making the introductions:

"Guys, after the Hernandezes broke my feet about this..."

"NOT TRUE!"

"Whatever! I was saying that since I've had a lot of requests about it, I figured I should make the proper introductions!"

He took the young man's hand and said:

"Guys, I'd like to introduce Pedro Delgado, a well-known historian with several bookstore hits. But he is also the man who has made me happy since 2017! In other words, he is my boyfriend."

"Hello, everyone!" greeted Pedro politely.

There was silence, and then without warning, all the players rushed to their rooms.

Worried, Pedro asked:

"Did I do something wrong?"

"I don't know: I don't understand their reactions."

A few minutes later, all the players returned, books in their hands.

Hugo was the first to step forward and handed the book. Pedro recognised the book: it was the book he had written about the remaining French aristocratic families!

"I am delighted to meet you, Pedro. I know you as an author, but I didn't know you were Antoine's lover. And I wanted to ask if you could sign my book for me!"

"But of course! I need a pen!" smiled Pedro, relieved.

"Here, buddy: this will help you!" smiled Paul, handing him a pen.

"Thanks, Piochi!"

"One minute: did you know Pedro?" asked Aurélien Tchouaméni.

"I met him by pure chance when I visited Antoine. And as fate would have it, Pedro opened the door for me. Since then, we've been getting on really well!"

Soon, all the players lined up to greet the young historian and receive an autograph.

At the same time, Didier, who had just had a telephone conversation with the Minister for Sport, came to meet Pedro.

"I'm happy to meet you, my boy. I hope the guys gave you a warm welcome!"

"I couldn't have wished for a better welcome!"

"Good for you! Antoine was a naughty hider: he could have told us he dated a charming intellectual!"

Antoine rolled his eyes: he would hear about it for weeks!

But when he saw Pedro getting to know the rest of the team, he smiled: at least he knew his companion would be welcome!

"Pedro, can we count on you on Saturday?"

"Gentlemen, I'll be at the stadium on Saturday without fail!"

⚽👟⚽👟⚽👟

Saturday, at the Stade de France.

"INCREDIBLE! ANTOINE GRIEZMANN SCORED ANOTHER GOAL IN THE LAST MINUTE! IT'S A DISASTER FOR THE MANNSCHAFT WHO ALREADY CONCEDED FOUR GOALS!" screamed the speaker under the roars of happiness from the French supporters.

Among the supporters, Pedro cheered happily for his boyfriend.

He had to wait until the final whistle to come down onto the pitch and congratulate his lover.

"You were fantastic!"

"Because I knew you were there to support me!"

Antoine smiled mischievously.

"Do you think I'll get a victory kiss?"

"You deserve it!" smiled Pedro, who kissed his companion.

At the same time, the stadium's giant screens broadcast the scene, provoking exclamations of surprise and shouts of joy.

Only when they stopped kissing did the two lovers realise they had had 80,000 witnesses to their romance.

"Congratulations, guys: you've been on live TV!" joked Lucas, making his brother laugh.

Embarrassed, Pedro hid in Antoine's arms, who laughed.

"Don't hide, mon petit lapin: let people admire your beauty!"

Pedro smiled.

"After all, why hide?"

And with that, he kissed his lover again to the crowd's cheers.

Kylian grabbed the microphone and shouted to the crowd with Paul:

"I WANT A STANDING OVATION FOR THE LOVERS OF THE STADE DE FRANCE: ANTOINE GRIEZMANN AND PEDRO DELGADO!"

A memorable evening that foreshadowed greater ones for our lovers...

Thanks for reading!

Hope you loved the story!

Take care of you and feel free to request! 😘😍❤️

#requests #football imagines #france nt #oc: pedro delgado #antoine griezmann #paul pogba #shawn mendes

[butterballbuttnakey]

Lingerie:

I was digging around in my google docs and I found this. Potential trash writing ahead

Okay so maybe it’s the night after an awards show and shawn won big right?  

He looked good as FUCK in his suit on the carpet and he looked good as fuck when he was performing and he looked good when he was accepting his awards and he looked even better when you guys got to the after party and you got a couple drinks in you 

To be fully honest, you wanted to skip the after parties all together and get him home bc you had a PLAN to congratulate him on all his hard work 

Unbeknownst to you, Shawn also wanted to head straight home and start his own, two-person after party but his team had other plans 

Shawn had a few celebratory shots before switching to your personal favorite; red wine 

He eyes you over the rim of his second glass and he doesn’t need to say a word for you to know what he’s saying; you’re in for a long night 

You pull out your phone below the table and shoot him a text; ‘we’re leaving by 1:30. I have plans for you’ 

You and Shawn have a small stare down while you wait for his phone to ding, at which point you watch him pull his phone out and read the message 

A slow smirk spreads across your face when you watch Shawn freeze in his seat as a small noise from the back of his throat makes its way to your ears 

Shawn looks around frantically, hoping no one heard the noise as he shifts in his seat, willing his chubbing length to just wait a little longer 

The wine he’s been drinking has dialed his senses to 11, and he reacts to you without you even speaking a word to or touching him 

He both hates and love it 

It takes Shawn all of one minute to order an Uber and come up with an excuse to leave, too impatient to wait until the time you’d specified 

“Thanks for tonight guys, but we’re gonna head home and get some rest, right honey?” 

Shawn stands from the table, using the napkin and his movement as a cover to adjust himself some more. He hopes that when he finally drops it, nobody notices the fact that the crotch of his pants is visibly tighter than before (you absolutely notice) 

The team looks confused but they bid the two of you farewell as you make your rounds giving hugs and kisses to everyone 

You and Shawn lock eyes as you exit the restaurant, and luckily you don’t have to wait long outside before the Uber pulls up 

Shawn prides himself on his restraint but the ride back to the hotel tests it to no end as he somehow manages to keep his hands off of you, but has a borderline white-knuckle grip on his own knee as he looks out the window, willing the passing scenery to distract him from the ache in his dress slacks 

Shawn thanks his lucky stars that there are no fans waiting outside of the hotel when the car finally stops, allowing him to help you out of the car, thank the driver and whisk you inside and straight to the elevator 

Once inside the elevator, Shawn stands directly in front of you, length pressed to your thigh 

He stares down at you desperately, willing you to do something, anything to set this plan of yours in motion 

But you do nothing except reach past the lapels of his button-down and finger the gold chain sitting between his collarbones 

You walk past him without sparing a glance once the elevator reaches your floor, with Shawn trailing behind you like a lost puppy 

You stop, dig in his back pocket for the keycard and enter your suite, passing a quick thought to whichever Deity may be listening, I hope there’s no one next door 

You don’t get far inside the room before Shawn’s restraint finally breaks and he pins you against the wall and seals his lips against yours 

His kiss leaves you breathless, as it always does 

Between his lips and his impatiently wandering hands, your mind goes blank. Any inkling of your plan for the night flying out the window 

You seemingly black out for a moment, lost in him and his body and the things he can make you feel even before he takes a single item of clothing off of you 

It isn’t until the cool air of the hotel room hits your thigh that you come back to earth, gently pushing Shawn away from your neck where he was no doubt working on making a mark 

“Baby,” you moan out, carding your fingers through his hair in an effort to pull him back, but it only spurs him and ministrations on 

“Shawn.” you say more firmly, waiting a moment before Shawn's face appears in front of yours 

He looks fucked in the best way possible 

His eyes are blown wide, the soft hazel replaced by solid black. His lips are kiss swollen, shiny and parted due to his heavy breathing. His hair is tousled due to your fingers and, as you glance down at his bare shoulders you realize that you somehow got his shirt off 

And he’s looking at you like a wolf looks at its prey 

“What is it, honey?” His voice is raspy and at least half an octave deeper. The sound goes straight to your core and it takes everything in you to speak instead of kissing him 

“My plan for you, remember?” You say as you lay your hands flat on his pecs and slowly push him away enough for you to move towards the closet, with Shawn following close behind 

Each step is laborious for you, as your body has been craving his since you left for the show and now that you can finally have him in the way that you want, you’re delaying it. 

But you know your patience will be rewarded, so you trudge on. 

You dig in the closet for a moment before locating the item you need, hiding it behind your back with one hand while you use the other on his chest to back him towards the bed before having him sit,  

“I’ll be out in a moment, Leo.” You run your thumb over his plump bottom lip, relishing in the look of him kissing the pad of your finger before his tongue peeks out in a quick kitten lick.  

You giggle before turning away towards the bathroom but not before Shawn lands a swift slap to your right asscheek 

You turn back to look at him, and he has his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, his left hand palming himself over his pants. 

He makes a show of making sure you see him watching your ass, before meeting your eyes with a look that makes your heat clench around the air in anticipation of the feeling of him stretching you out later. “Hurry up baby girl. I don’t wanna have to come in there and get you.” 

You’re incredibly happy that the skirt of your after-party dress hides the way you squeeze your thighs together to alleviate the ache deep within you at the sound of his voice, as you yet again question why you’re torturing yourself by denying yourself the feel of his body right now 

You turn and hightail it into the bathroom before you throw the entire plan out the window, damn near slamming the door and backing away from it like it burned you. 

You take a moment to regain your composure, “damn that man.” you mumble quietly to yourself as you unzip the bag and take out the set that’s inside 

It’s a strappy, lacy white number, a look that Shawn gravitates towards every time he peeks over your shoulder whenever you’re lingerie shopping online 

You undress and slip it on, admiring the way the cut of the set compliments your curves and the gorgeous juxtaposition of the diamond white lace & mesh against your skin 

You pull the other item out of the bag—a robe—and slip it on. Tying it so the lapels cover the lingerie completely, but leave the valley between your breasts exposed 

You turn in the mirror and check yourself over to make sure the set is covered; the robe is relatively short, hitting you high on your thighs and right below your bum 

You comb your fingers through your hair to refresh the bouncy curls. You relish the moment because you knew the style won’t last much longer once Shawn gets his hands on you; he never stopped until your style was fully sweated out 

You pause to take a deep breath before opening the door and walking back into the bedroom to find shawn standing by the window with another glass of wine in his hand 

He's leaning against the wall, looking out over the city and you don’t even need to see his face to know that he’s wrapped in his own mind again and doesn’t even know that you’ve entered the room 

You take your time looking at him, the curls on the back of his head, the curves and divots of his biceps as they’re folded across his chest, the broad expanse of his shoulders and the corded muscle underneath his smooth skin, the dimples in his lower back, the band of his boxers peeking out from his pants, the way the fabric strains against the muscled thickness of his thighs 

Your admiration comes to an abrupt end when shawn drains the rest of the wine in the glass and turns to put it back on the bedside table. You take the opportunity to catch his attention 

You approach him slowly, letting him take his visual fill of your body before you’re within arm's reach of him 

A slow smirk spreads across his lips as he runs his hands around the width of your hips, fingering the hem of your robe but not quite breaching it, “What’s this, honeypot?” 

You slide the palm of your hands up his chest to rub your thumb over his pronounced collarbone, taking your time to experience the smooth warmth of his skin versus the coarse texture of his chest hair versus the cool metal of his necklace. You relish in the visual of Shawn preening at the contact 

“You put so much into everything you do and you’ve been working so hard lately with the album and getting the tour together, and tonight you finally saw some of the fruits of that labor and, I never got to say this at the show or at dinner, but I’m so proud of you, Anjo and I love you so much.” 

Shawn blushes before connecting his lips to yours in a slow kiss and you don’t hesitate to comb your fingers into his hair as he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you flush against him 

The mood has changed; gone is Shawn’s impatience to get you as naked as possible as fast as possible. It's been replaced with slow, passionate, sensuality in the way he kisses you. Shawn takes his time feeling you, like he’s never felt you before.  

The heat from his wandering hands burns through the satin robe, and straight to your core as you cling to him 

Shawn slowly pulls his lips from yours, but doesn’t pull out of your airspace, “I love you so fucking much.” 

You smile and say nothing, only taking his hand and guiding it to the tie at the front of your robe, keeping your eyes locked on his as you step back to untie the bow, opening the robe and letting it drop to the floor at your feet 

Shawn's eyes on your body make you feel simultaneously vulnerable and powerful 

You want to cover up and hide but you also feel like you can take on the world, all just from him looking at you the way that he does 

Shawn takes his time taking you in visually. His eyes linger on your face before sliding to your collarbones and your chest, to the dip of your waist and the spread of your hips, to the soft roundness of your thighs and all the way down to your feet 

Then Shawn reaches out and takes your hand, stopping the nervous tick of your finger twitching against your skin, “Turn for me, baby.” 

You do as instructed, turning around to show the back of the set for Shawn to repeat his ministrations 

You can feel the weight and the intensity of his gaze on your skin as he looks at you, taking you in and deciding which part he wants to devour first. 

He gently tugs your hand, instructing you to turn back around to face him. 

His eyes are still in the area of your knees when you look at his face but when his eyes finally meet yours, it knocks the breath from your lungs 

Your mind goes blank, senses attuned to him and only him and what he’s planning on doing to you 

You don’t wait long before Shawn's slowly pulling you into him, trapping you within his arms as every aspect of him invades every aspect of you when his lips meet yours 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

When Shawn finally collapses next to you—completely spent of everything he had to give you and full of everything you had to give him—you look out the window to see the first colors of the sunrise over the horizon 

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #I'm not taking requests so don't ask #theres another one in my docs but i simply do not feel like finishing that one lol

[thcfinalgirl]

Sydney Sweeney & Shawn Mendes Manip

#sydney sweeney #sydney sweeney manip #shawn mendes #shawn mendes manip #manip request #manip #mymanip