#mendes fic

[softmangoes]

how the LIs kiss

18+

pure!sydney's kisses are sweet, mouth soft and his tongue warm. he kisses you in the same way he savors the hard candies you'd slide over the library counter, slipping them into his hands just so your fingers could brush. when he pulls away, his glasses are foggy, a nervous smile on his face. "was that..." he says, blushing. "was that alright?"

corrupt!sydney's kisses are hungry. he's got his hands under your shirt and his tongue deep in your mouth. he's been waiting so patiently, after all, and now he finally has you to himself. "you taste divine, beloved." he says, fingers slipping under your waistband. when you sigh against his mouth, he smiles. "but i think it's time i have my dessert."

whitney's kisses hurt. they're full of teeth and bruises and blood and his nails digging crescents into your skin. whenever he crushes his lips to yours, he always makes sure to leave you aching. and like every fight you've had against him, you never come out unscathed. "there," he says, marveling at the fresh marks blooming along your neck. "now everyone will know whose slut you are."

kylar's kisses are desperate. his hands roam your skin as his mouth murmurs endless promises into the hollow of your neck. "we'll be together forever," he says, drunk on the scent of you. he presses his body to yours, eager to get closer, to envelope you in his embrace. to never, ever, let you go. "nothing will ever change that."

eden wastes no time when he kisses you. he has known the lean months of winter and the lonely days of fall. you cannot deny him the sweetness of spring. he bites into the curve of your neck like the first fruit of warmer days, licks at your lips to drink in your sweetness. but a hunter is always hungry, always wanting. "it's been a long day," he growls, deepening the kiss. when he takes your shirt in his hands, the fabric rips apart easily. "too long without you."

robin's kisses are warm. they're fingers running through your hair, a smile against your mouth. sunny days and lips that taste like fresh lemonade. he always laughs when he kisses you, like he can't believe he's doing this. like he can't believe he's yours. when he kisses you, the world is a little brighter. softer. "it's a beautiful day to be with you," he murmurs after he pulls away, pressing a peck to your cheek before taking your hand in his.

there is no way you can truly describe how the ivory wraith kisses you, but there is a note of familiarity to it. your mind conjures memories of kisses whispered in passing, of lips locked in darkened halls. "as sweet as ever," he hums, licking your lips with his cool tongue. "as sweet as always." the passing of centuries have done little else but make him yearn. the wraith, with his great and terrible beauty, kisses you like he's been waiting for you all this time.

[kentofic]

a bite-sized nanami x f!reader sickfic as i recover from a cold of my own 💖 suggestive but no smut

You give a hearty sniffle, the covers tucked up to your chin as you huddle under the warm blanket, shivering. You sigh. You hate being sick. You’ve been laid up for the past day with a fever, stuffy nose, and scratchy throat. There’s no end in sight yet—but, to your luck, your sweet husband has stayed home to play nurse for you. And you do love being taken care of by him.

“Kento,” you call out, your voice hoarse, cracking around the edges. You cringe at the sound.

You don’t see how Kento halts in the next room, warmth pooling low in his stomach. You have no idea how deeply, how instantly, it affects him—the sound of your voice, pitched low and throaty like this. He reminds himself for the hundredth time that you need rest, that he has no right to jump your bones when you’re sick and exhausted. No matter how infuriatingly sexy you sound. He clears his throat, trying to gather himself.

“Yes, darling?” you hear from the living room. His tone betrays nothing.

“Can you bring me some water please? I’m all out.”

“Sure, be right there.”

You stare at the ceiling, slightly dizzy, as your husband bustles about in the kitchen. Soon he’s by your bedside with a glass of cool water, a small plate, an apple, and a paring knife.

He guides the glass into your hands, watching approvingly as you take a long sip. Then he picks up the apple and the knife and begins peeling it. You watch him with a smile, your cheeks and lips flushed rosy with fever.

“How did I ever deserve such an attentive husband,” you murmur, your voice like warm gravel. Kento’s hands falter for just a second. He clears his throat and resumes cutting small slices of the fruit. He feels the beginnings of a flush creeping up the back of his neck.

“Hush. You know I love taking care of you.”

Your chuckle is like a soft burble of water, punctuated at the end by a sniff. Kento holds a piece of apple up to your mouth, which you dutifully open for him. He pokes the piece between your lips, his thumb grazing your bottom lip as he withdraws his hand.

“Mm, tastes good,” you hum, low and soft, around the mouthful of fruit. The sound goes straight to Kento’s groin, and he coughs to dislodge the breath that catches in his throat. You peer up at him, concerned.

“You’re not getting sick too, are you?”

“I’m fine,” he assures you, smoothing your hair from your forehead. You catch his wrist and tug, trying to pull him closer, even weak as you are in this state. He leans forward to humor you. You scrutinize him with eyes soft and glassy from fever.

“You’re flushed, Kento. Are you sure you don’t have a fever?” you worry, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead. He lets out a soft sigh at the contact, his eyes fluttering for a moment.

“I’m not sick, sweetheart. Just guilty of loving my wife too much,” Kento murmurs. He pulls your hand from his forehead to place a soft kiss to your palm. You shudder at the tender brush of his lips on your skin, made extra sensitive from fatigue and fever.

“Do you love her enough to give her a kiss, even though she’s full of germs?” you wheedle, eyes crinkling at the edges as you smile at him. He chuckles as he laces his fingers with yours.

“I love her enough to give her much more than a kiss,” he smirks. You shiver again, this time not from fever, and you clench your thighs together as Nanami traces the softness of your bottom lip with his thumb. You let out a breathy sigh as he noses into your cheek before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“But, as enticing as you are, you need your rest, love.”

You pout, letting out a disappointed sound as Kento pulls back. His gaze is soft but firm.

“Don’t whine. Get well first, then I’ll lavish you with all my saved up affection. I promise,” he says, his voice hushed, as he presses a final kiss to the top of your head.

You chew your lip before giving him a reluctant nod. You snuggle back under the covers, your eyes slipping shut. You’re filled with the determination to heal now, if you’re to get what you want out of your husband.

Kento watches you as your breathing evens out, your brow relaxing as a feverish sleep pulls you under once again. He sits there for a while, just admiring you—the way your hair splays out on the pillow, your warm cheek smushed so cutely against it, your lips parted as a soft, sleepy moan escapes you.

Kento stands suddenly. He makes a beeline for the bathroom, his pants tight. He chastises himself as he swallows the urge to rip off your blankets and keep you warm another way.

[mendesblurb]

We were staying in Paris

Shawn Mendes x female reader

Warning ⚠️: mostly fluff, maybe grammar error and maybe some punctuation errors

Word count:~500

A/N: The story idea and concept are classic and predictable; your girl just couldn’t help but write something inspired by this picture. Also, it’s three weeks late; better late than never? And this is my first story in 2024? 🙈 P.S. Should I write a longer and maybe some more steamy story with this picture? 🤪

——//

In the heart of Paris, in a hotel room with a balcony overlooking the city that served as the backdrop for a love story as it was unfolding in the early hours of dawn. You lay nestled in the warmth of the bed beside your boyfriend as your fingers intertwined with his. As the first tendrils of sunlight filtered through the curtains, Shawn stirred awake, his eyes blinking open to the soft glow of morning. 

He savoured the moment's stillness a little while before gently extricating himself from the embrace, slipping out of bed, and heading to the bathroom. The cool floor beneath his bare feet offers a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the bed. He was going to return to bed, but instead, he made his way to the balcony, drawn by the promise of a tranquil morning amidst the bustling city below.

As he leaned against the railing, taking in the breathtaking view before him, he couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the Parisian skyline bathed in the soft hues of dawn. The Eiffel Tower stood tall and majestic in the distance, a precious sight. Lost in thought, he reached for a cigarette, the flame casting a flickering glow on his face as he took a contemplative drag.

Unbeknownst to him, you had stirred awake in his absence, your gaze lingering on the spot where he had once laid.

There you were, quietly making your way to the balcony, and you found him lost in reverie with the smoke curling around him like a halo in the morning light. With a soft throat clearing, you announced your presence, a playful glint dancing in your eyes.

"Good morning, stranger," You greeted, voice laced with amusement as you wrapped your arms around him from behind.

A little startled, he turned to find you standing before him, a radiant smile lighting up her features as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Good morning, ma chÃrie," He greeted back before discarding his cigarette and nestling closer. It didn’t take long for his eyes to linger around you, and eventually falling upon the shirt you were wearing, a mischievous twinkle lighting up his gaze, “I believe that’s my shirt.” 

"Oh yeah, I hope you don't mind," You began, fingers tracing the fabric of the shirt, "I may have borrowed this from you,” You continued slyly as your lips curled into a grin as he took in the sight of you wearing his shirt, the fabric draping over your frame in a way that seemed almost too perfect.

"Shirt stealer," he remarked, his voice tinged with sincerity as he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Moments later, as the sun continued its ascent, casting a golden glow over the city, you both remained on the balcony, lost in each other's embrace and the beauty of the Parisian sunrise. 

"By the way, I'm never returning this shirt,” You added, breaking the silence with a mischievous grin. 

In response, Shawn just chuckled, his eyes sparkling with affection, “Thank you for letting me know," he replied, pulling  you closer than before, “But It looks better on you anyway."

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading guys... feel free to like, reblog, follow my account, leave a comment and my chat is always open for random chats or requests... appreciate every single one of you... ❤️

Taglist (open) : @monikamendes @holland-styles @bvttercupbby @lonelyreputation @badreputationlove @shawn-is-my-giant-jellybean @benito-mi-vida @swiftmendeshoran @yournameoneverypage @shawn-is-bruh @mendesbhraanth @perfectlywrongformendes @imaginashawnn @smendes-forever @nervousmendes @whenyoureadyholland @shawn-youth @myboyshawn @camilalewiss @camilalewisss @theregoesmyherojd @nanijaac1 @shawnieeboyy @silverswallow @inlovewithmendes-blog @mendeslola-blog @mendesx123 @23kofmendes @jellyloml @chipofmendes @poohofmendes @wutheringmendes @shawnmendesbuddy @chocochipcookie305 @shiningshawns

Story Code:05042409

[stormhearty]

Pairings: Former Rhysand x Reader, Feysand, Tarquin x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Triggers: mentions of depression, relapse, attempts at suicide

Summary: It has been two decades since you left Night Court, leaving the life you had always known. It had been five years since you were in Dawn Court, slowly healing with the help of its High Lord. Now, you had resided in Summer Court, Tarquin by your side through your healing process. But when a mating bond snaps between the two of you when your health turns for the worse, how would you process something that you never thought would happen in your immortal life? And when you decide to confront your former family, would you forgive them for their past discretions? The story of the aftermath of your broken heart of glass.

Note: From this request! Thank you so much for wanting a second part to “Breaking Like Glass”!! I love that everyone enjoyed that fic’s immense angst, so I will gladly give you guys the fluff, romance, and healing the reader needs. And I do hope this isn’t cheesy. I struggled a bit on writing this, whether to debate to make it angsty, but I feel like, it has enough of the balance. Please do enjoy!

Breaking Like Glass | Masterlist

“You know, my stardust, you don't have to do this… We can have our mating ceremony with our family. We don't have to invite Night Court…”

You let out a thoughtful hum as you lounged in one of the lounging chairs in Tarquin’s office, book in hand. You placed a finger on your page before looking over your shoulder at the High Lord of Summer, who looked at you with concern etched on his beautiful features.

After centuries of being with Rhysand, you had always thought that you would be content in not finding your mate. You had thought, and wished, that you would have eternity with the High Lord of Night Court. However, with the fiasco two decades ago, all you wanted to do was heal — fix your broken heart and mind from your torture from Under the Mountain, to fix your broken soul from being ripped apart by your family. You did not want to fall in love — you didn’t want to give your taped-up heart to someone and be worried about having it torn apart again.

You had safe-guarded your heart behind high, metal walls with a fog of darkness to protect it — to protect you from breaking all over again, and losing yourself once more.

But what you had never dreamed of was a mating bond to snap.

And you never thought it would be with another High Lord.

The very moment you had stepped into Summer soil, Tarquin had been nothing but kind and gentle, helping you through your decade of healing. He allowed you to take your time — he allowed you to wallow, he allowed you to be silent, he allowed you to grieve, something that you never were able to do while you were in Valeris. He allowed you to cry in anguish, he allowed you to cry in pain — he allowed the forty-nine years of suffering to seep out of your aching body. And he was silently there, beside you, watching over you… to ensure you were safe and well cared for while you did.

And that was all you could have wished for while you were healing. You didn’t need words, you didn’t need condolences… Tarquin allowed you to heal in the way that your heart and mind needed.

All the while Tarquin healed your broken soul that came upon the betrayal from Night Court, you would be sent back to Dawn Court to mend your mind and body from the tortures of the Attor. The two High Lords worked in tandem with one another… all for you. Both Tarquin and Thesan realized your worth, both realized your importance and believed it was worth their power and time to heal you.

It had been five years since you came from Dawn Court when the mating bond snapped between you and Tarquin.

It was when your nightmares had resurrected themselves from the grave, haunting you thoroughly to the point you had relapsed back from your progress.

You had screamed and clawed against everything that had neared you, your eyes frantic at the absolute fear and dread of returning to that moment in your life — the pain of the Attor and betrayal of your husband, that still lurked in the darkness of your fear. You had hurt yourself, multiple times during that relapse — skin broken with knives, daggers, broken glass — anything that your hands got to… hoping for the pain to seep out of your skin.

But Tarquin was there through all of that — grabbing and hiding everything that you could try to hurt yourself with. He fought tooth and nail to get to you, whispering sweet nothings — that you were worth it, you were worth the pain and anguish, that you were worth everything. And that you would get through the pain — and that he’d be right beside you through it.

You couldn’t feel it, the glow of the mating bond between the two of you — for you were too shrouded in your fear to notice.

All the while, Tarquin felt every emotion you had felt — the despair, the anguish, the pain that wracked your body. He fought back all the tears as he held you against him, pouring as much care and love through the newly found bond.

The relapse had taken an immense hit on your health — you were sick for weeks on end, going in and out of consciousness barely able to make out who had been taking care of you.

When you had been well enough, you had learned that Tarquin, himself, had been the one to care for you during your illness. And you, though you shouldn’t have been, was surprised at that fact. The High Lord of Summer Court took time away from his busy schedule to tend to you. He had owed you nothing… and yet he had taken time to care for you.

“Why did you do that…?” you had asked, storming into his office, pausing mid-step when you had seen Thesan and the Captain in the room. It seemed that you had interrupted an important meeting between the two High Lords — possibly about your condition.

Tarquin looked at you for a moment, a gentle sigh escaping his lips as he looked at Thesan and gave him an apologetic nod of his head. Thesan glanced between the two of you before standing up from his seat on the plush couch and heading your way. The High Lord of Dawn smiled at you, leaning down to press a kiss onto the crown of your head, “Hello, my child… be nice to him…”

The request was confusing to you as you allowed the High Lord and Captain to step out of the room, the click of the door resonating behind you — leaving you and Tarquin alone in that grand room. The atmosphere grew awkward and you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip, you glanced everywhere besides the High Lord, and you heard him let out a chuckle.

You frowned, glaring at him slightly before watching him stand up and walk towards you, reaching out a hand for you to hold, “We have much to talk about, (Y/N)…” he murmured.

You stared at his hand, sighing softly before reaching over to place you had on top of his. His had always radiated warmth that you seemed to want to grasp onto often — it was warm and inviting, much like the summer sun he had ruled over. You followed him further into his office, walking past his desk and onto the large balcony overviewing his Court. There was a large settee that Tarquin led you to, sitting you down before he sat next to you, leaving a gap between both of you.

“Now… What was it you were saying, (Y/N)? About why I did that?” he questioned, turquoise hues staring at the massive land of his Court, allowing the summer breeze to greet the two of you.

Relaxing against the settee, you remained quiet for a few moments, eyes fluttering close at the breeze that tickled your skin. When you opened your eyes once more and turned your attention to the High Lord, you were slightly startled when you noticed he was staring at you — something in his eyes sparkling that you were unsure of… or slightly denied.

“…Why did you take care of me when I was ill?” you asked him, not bothering to beat around the bush, “You didn’t owe me anything, this… arrangement between us is only until I get better and can move on from my nightmares—”

“When did I say that this… arrangement is only until you get better?” he interrupted you with a raised brow, “I did not say anything like that. I am allowing you to stay until you want to leave… I’m giving you the choice to stay and to heal the way you need, unlike your time in Night Court. And, I took care of you because I wanted to, (Y/N). I couldn’t let you hurt yourself like you did, to be so haunted by your nightmares every waking second… I couldn’t let you suffer the way Rhysand let you for all those months…”

You flinched at the name of your former husband. It still ached — no matter how long it had been, it still ached hearing his name. Usually, Tarquin and Thesan avoided saying his name around you, both afraid of a possible relapse. You let out a shaky breath, as your eyes stared at something beyond him, a distant stare — feeling yourself move out of your body, a sensation that had started to become normal for you ever since you were in Dawn Court.

Feeling Tarquin’s warmth again, you blinked twice before focusing on him again a small smile tugged on your lips, and shook your head, “…I’m fine…” you whispered, head tilting down to look at your intertwined hands. You took deep breaths, something that Thesan had taught you after your moments of distance.

Tug, tug… you felt something in your chest. Your head tilted in confusion until you felt it again — tug, tug… You lifted your head and looked at the High Lord once more. You saw a twinkle in those turquoise hues, a hopeful look hidden within those depths.

“…What…” you muttered in disbelief, and you felt another tug in your chest.

“You felt it, did you not, (Y/N)?” Tarquin questioned, leaning forward slightly, warm hands gently gripping yours — as if preventing you from running away.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded your head, too scared for any words to escape you.

How could a mating bond happen? After everything that happened to you, your mind and body were broken, being held together by pieces of tape held together by Tarquin and Thesan — you could barely hold yourself together. Your healing process for the past fifteen years was slow, and there were many times when you believed you would never be okay again. How can someone like you be mated to another High Lord? How can someone as broken as you be another leader of a Court?

Thoughts of insecurities passed through your mind, unknowingly sending them down the newly formed bond. You were startled out of your thought by Tarquin’s hand gently caressing your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“You do not have to accept the mating bond, as of yet, (Y/N)… I will wait, you can heal. Just know that I accept you, even if you are broken and torn. You still have years of healing to do, but I will be by your side — always.”

Tears ran down your cheeks as he shifted closer, pressing his hands on your cheeks to wipe them away. All you can do is nod. Allowing the love and warmth of the bond to slowly heal you.

It had been another five years since then. A little over two decades after you left Night Court to accept the bond. For five years, Tarquin had courted you, cared for you… loved you the way you needed. He did not force anything onto you and allowed you to fall in love with him in such a natural way that it felt second nature to you.

“…(Y/N)…” your mate called out to you, snapping out of your trance.

You blinked and refocused on the present, eyes focusing on Tarquin who had moved from his spot at his desk to you, hands rubbing your shoulders. Tilting your head back, you gave him a smile, reaching up with your free hand to reach up to run your fingers against his cheek as he looked down at you.

“No… I would like to invite them. I think… I need closure from my time there. And…” there was hesitance in your voice at the next words, “I do miss them. I lived with them for centuries, and all of a sudden I cut them off my life for a good reason… there are times when I missed them.”

Tarquin hummed understandingly as he squeezed your shoulders, “Understandable. We will invite them… But I worry—-”

“—- I won’t relapse. I promise…” you moved from your lounging position to sitting up, shifting so you were on your knees, at eye level with him. You felt him wrap his arm around your waist so you were steady as your hands placed themselves on his biceps, playing around with the fabric of his outfit, “I’m better — well, as best I can be — but I know you’ll be there… I will be fine.”

There was reluctance in his features, those turquoise hues trying to find any lie in your words before he gave you a nod.

“I concede…” he murmured and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the hesitancy in his words. Pressing a gentle kiss on the High Lord’s cheek, murmuring a thank you before moving back to your position on the lounge chair, picking up your book once more.

You looked back up to just miss the shake of his head, before he wrapped a hand around your neck, tilting your head up so he could lean down to press a kiss on your lips, “After our mating ceremony, I wish for you to initiate our kisses, my stardust…”

Feeling the warmth of your cheeks you stared up at him, “If that is the wish of my High Lord, then it shall happen…”

He let out a low chuckle before pressing another kiss on your lips, your book forgotten on your lap.

The ceremony venue was extravagant, to say the least — Tarquin, as well as Thesan from what you had gathered, pulled all the stops. The throne room of Summer Court was flourishing with flowers and the summer sun radiating down through all the large windows.

You were a nervous mess sitting in your room. It was still several hours before the ceremony, that you weren’t too nervous for; it was the fact that you were going to meet your old family once more.

The Captain of Dawn, your dear friend, had informed you that the Inner Circle just arrived at the outskirts of Summer Court. And that set off your nerves completely.

You had requested, when you had sent the letter to Night Court, to meet with them before your ceremony — to officially close the wounds between all of you.

And so when a knock startled you out of your worries, you turned around in your chair from your vanity where you were getting ready. Watching those doors open to reveal your old family.

There stood Rhysand, in his Night Court attire along with Feyre, who was at his side. There was a pang in your chest, the pain of their betrayal somehow festering its way back into your heart. But it was slowly soothed out by the warmth of the mating bond that Tarquin seemed to have sent your way. The doors closed behind the Inner Circle, and you noticed the Captain of Dawn stationed at the door.

Thesan’s lover is quite a busybody isn’t he…? You had sent down the bond to your mate. And all you felt was Tarquin’s chuckle as you focused back on the now.

You slowly stood up, a small smile on your features before you watched from the corner of your eye Mor heading to a sprint and giving you the biggest hug.

“… I’m so sorry, (Y/N)…” she apologized, the words repeating on her lips as she squeezed you, burying her head into your neck.

Tears pricked the edge of your eyes as your arms wrapped around her and you buried your head to the crook of her neck, letting the blond curls tickle your face.

“… Mor…” you whined her name.

A sob wracked through the blonde’s body, “I’m just glad you’re okay. That you’re better…” she whispered before pulling back and staring at you, “I’m glad you found your mate. I’m glad that he’s making you happy — that you deserve happiness — after all the shit you went through and everything we had put you under…”

You smiled at her as you felt her cup your cheeks, nodding your head, “… — Thank you, Mor. I’m glad to see you again, truly. I missed you so much…”

A smile tugged on Mor’s features, “We will see each other more… if you let us.”

You nodded your head as she stepped away, allowing the rest of the Inner Court to greet you — hugging you and whispering their utmost apologies and congratulations.

Cassian had lifted you into his arms, something he used to do often when you were his Lady still, giving you a spin, “You will always be my Lady, (Y/N)…” he whispered into your ears, pressing a kiss against your cheek before literally handing you off to Azriel.

A giggle escaped your lips as you hugged the Spymaster as he pressed a kiss on your opposite cheek, “We will forever live with the regret of losing you…” Azriel hummed out, “We had and always will love you… But I wish for nothing but happiness for you…”

Your heart flourished at the words of your former family — the words that you had wished to hear two decades ago — slowly piecing your heart and soul back together. You had known, while you were healing, that they had always cared for you and that never meant to put so much pressure on you, unknowing of your nightmares and struggles after being Under the Mountain.

When you were settled back onto your feet, you turned to face Rhysand. The tension between the two of you was still high and you fought back all the urge to just run away from this confrontation between the two of you. You gave him a small smile before focusing your attention on Feyre who stepped up, reaching out to hold your hands.

“I am truly sorry…” she whispered, leaning forward to press her forehead against yours.

You understood why Rhysand fell in love with Feyre. You had heard of the great deeds she had done for Night Court, for Prythian… she was something you could never have been next to Rhysand. The true High Lady of Night Court.

And somehow, you were okay with it.

Shaking your head, you looked at the High Lady, “…You were just following the feeling of the mating bond. Like I said that night, I cannot fault you for choosing your mate. I cannot fault you for following the tug… I — I would like to extend my congratulations —-”

Feyre shook her head, brows knitting at your words, “Do not, please. I will not accept that not when I have unknowingly broken you along with the rest of your family. ”

You looked at her, nodding your head as you felt her step back and the familiar scent and presence of your former husband taking her place. You lifted your eyes to look into violet ones — ones that sparkled with regret, ones that you were in love with for so long.

Even if it was two decades that passed, you felt like you were still in sync with him, knowing what he wanted. Turning onto your heels, you made your way to one of the furthest balconies, Rhysand following your steps. The large window doors closed behind you, leaving both of you in a pocket of privacy away from prying ears. You could see, from the corner of your eye, the Captain making his way closer to the doors and all you could do was hold a hand up — signaling that you were fine and safe.

Turning back around, you focused on Rhysand who’s eyes were solely on you. Stepping past him, you made your way to the railing, pressing your hands on the warm marble, as you basked in the summer sun.

“(Y/N)…” Rhysand whispered one that was so quiet that the wind barely was able to carry it to your sensitive ears.

“I… I cannot forgive you, Rhysand…” you declared, eyes still closed as you let the warmth of your new home wash over you, to comfort you as you confront your past, “I cannot and do not fault you for choosing her. I can see why you had fallen for her — she’s beautiful, both inside and out. But I cannot forgive you for it. You had broken me so much, that there were many times during my healing that I wondered why I wasn’t enough for you to choose me. Wondering what I have done to make you choose someone else other than your wife who stood next to you for centuries.”

You could hear the shaky breath that Rhysand exhaled as you felt him stand next to you on the balcony.

You couldn’t look at him, every fiber in your body shaking to break again if you looked at him. You needed to be strong — for yourself and for the people around you who worried immensely for your health.

“I know… I know you would never forgive me, (Y/N). I have accepted that truth… I just wish things ended differently, you know? I wanted to let you know, that there was not a moment in our centuries together as husband and wife that I wished you were my mate… that there was not a moment that I did not love you…”

A broken laugh escaped your lips as you opened your eyes and looked up at him once more, seeing those unshed tears in violet hues.

“… And there was not a time where I wished you were my mate… But it seems that Mother had a different path for both of us. One that led us away from each other.”

You reached up, with shaky hands, and attempted to touch him; however, your body paused, and with furrowed brows, you dropped your hand back onto your side. You could see Rhysand’s body slouched slightly as if missing your touch. A forced smile tugged onto your lips as you stepped back, creating a significant distance between the two of you, “… I hope you enjoy the ceremony, Rhysand…”

He knew when he was dismissed and he smiled at you before stepping out of the balcony. You watched with longing and pain as he and the Inner Court stepped out of your room.

“… Probably it wasn’t such a good idea to have the two of you alone together…” The Captain commented, stepping onto the balcony, worry in his tone.

“I’m fine… just give me a moment…” you whispered, pressing a hand against your chest, to calm down your heart. You slouched against the railing for a few minutes, feeling the bond in your chest to help your racing heart.

“…Do you need me—-”

“No… I don’t need Tarquin or Thesan right now. They’re in their own state of panic already…”

The Captain let out a chuckle, “That is true… They have set their mind to ensure that this ceremony would be perfect…”

After calming your heart, you straightened up and gave the Captain a light smirk, “…Busybodies the lot of them…” You stepped back into your room, allowing yourself to fix yourself up before the ceremony, the Captain following your trail.

You stood on the dias of the throne room, Tarquin by your side as the priestess started the ceremony. Your gown was a lovely mixture of blue, much like the oceans that crashed below the castle. The priestess’ words had gone deaf in your ears as all you could do was stare up at the High Lord of Summer, love and affection in your features as well as through the bond.

When the priestess had asked for the two of you to exchange vows, Tarquin looked at you with the same look as you did to him, a soft smile on his features.

“Never in my life, I would have thought to find my mate. I had thought that I would rule my Court without a High Lady by my side. But that fateful day I had whisked you away from Thesan and Dawn Court, all I had wished was for you to be mine.

“My stardust…” the nickname always made your heart skip in your chest, “I had fallen in love with you… despite your broken soul and heart. I was honored that you had trusted me enough to help mend your soul from the nightmares that haunted you, and that still haunt you till this day. But I couldn’t let you know of my affections, not when you had set yourself into healing. So I waited, waited for years and when that mating bond snapped, I knew I couldn’t hold out for much longer. I needed you in my arms, I needed to have your eyes set on me — rather than looking into your past. And when you had your relapse… I had to let you know. I had to let you know that you have someone, your mate, to be with you every step of your healing process.”

You felt tears trickle down your cheeks as Tarquin wiped them away, “You deserve this bond after everything that you have been through… the Mother has gifted you this bond. And I am honored to be at the end of that string.”

A sob escaped your lips and you couldn’t even find the words for your own vows. All you could mutter to him as he pressed his forehead against yours, “Thank you… I love you, I thank you, and I am also honored and blessed by the Cauldron to have you as my mate. Thank you for mending my heart. I am glad to give it to you, and not worry about it breaking…”

You watched through a tearful gaze, Tarquin giving you a radiant smile before leaning down to press a kiss on your lips, “And I would never break it… not your heart that is precious like gemstones…”

You laughed as applause reached your ears, leaning up once more to kiss your mate.

Your heart was safe — mended together once more — and you knew it would never break again.

Tagging list: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @abysshaven @prythianpages @leahoneil @rachelnicolee

[eddiesghxst]

steddie x sensitive!reader where eddie’s ur best friend that you do ‘more than best friend’ things with and steve was the asshole at school that would tease you and always make you cry.

eddie knew about it but he didn’t know your bully was steve so when eddie and steve start working together and you stop by one day eddie doesn’t think much of it when u see steve and ur really jumpy and look like ur ready to bolt out of there because you’re often shy around strangers.

and steve doesn’t even fucking remember you and so when you leave steve is like “is she always that jumpy?? like was i being weird or??” and eddie just shakes his head and is like “nah she just has a hard time w strangers. some asshole used to tease the shit out of her in high school. she never told me who it was but the day i find out i swear i’ll hunt them down and strangle them myself.” and steve is like wow what kind of an asshole would do that to a girl like you??

because steve thinks you’re pretty and sweet and he likes you and he thinks he wants to ask you out but how will he do that when he: 1 - can’t seem to have a conversation with you and not scare you off 2 - is convinced you and eddie are definitely dating even if eddie says it’s not like that and 3 - can’t decide who he’s more jealous of when he sees how close you two are

because is that even normal? is it normal to like two people at the same time? is it normal to feel left out when you and eddie are snuggled together during movie night? is it normal to want to hold both of your hands, kiss both you, touch both of you??? iS iT ?!!?!

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 82

You may be asking yourself after a night with no prompts, @geraskierfanficprompts, did you die? And the answer is, no, I only half-died (as in slept. For like 16 hours. I do not think I am well.) BUT ANYWHO LETS GOOOO Geralt is captured by Nilfgard, or whatever VOTW you want, it's up to whoever writes it, as always my dears, but without changes to the prompt, it would make most sense post-mountain Nilfgaard <3 Geralt knows Yennefer is expecting him back sooner, and because he didn't make it back in time, he knows damn well that Yennefer is currently tracking him down and will get him out. He just has to endure. He just has to wait it out. No matter what they say or do to Geralt however, he's not budging on any information. They remark that they have a way to get him to talk. Doesn't matter what they do. He just has to endure. He just has to wait it out. But then they shove in another person in chains, and when the person looks up, Geralt feels his heart drop to his stomach. "Jaskier.." "..Geralt." His hair is longer, and he's grown some stubble. He holds himself with much less confidence, and his eyes look weary and tired. They force Jaskier into a chair in front of Geralt, and Geralt can't even think of the implications he's so happy to see his bard, alive and well. ... Well-ish, he supposes. "Feel like sharing anything now, Witcher?" One asks, and Geralt suddenly comes back to reality, realizing their plan. Before he can even say anything, Jaskier laughs. A full-bellied, proper cackle, even throwing his head back for a moment. "As if! You truly made asses of yourselves! Geralt couldn't care less about me!" They grip Jaskier's hair and tug his head back. "Shut up, before we do it for you." "If you kill me, You'll only be doing both Geralt and me a favor." Jaskier says with a smile, and the man growls and sinks a knife into Jaskier's shoulder. "He's bluffing!" the man yells. Jaskier lets out a horrible little pained gasp at the knife, and his head falls forward as he starts to tear up. "I don't care if there's nothing of the bard left when you finish, as long as you get the butcher fucking talking!" Geralt is panicking. Not that anyone could tell. The rules were to endure. To wait. Yennefer can get him out. But sweet, poor, innocent Jaskier is about to be brutalized the more Geralt doesn't say. Even if he could endure, if he could wait, knowing deep down if he does nothing that it's safer for them, that they'll be saved, he knows he won't be able to. Because it's his Jaskier. He finally found him again, and his bard truly, genuinely believes Geralt would feel nothing but joy upon the minstrel's death. Geralt needs to get his bard out NOW, and he needs to make it all okay again. He needs to tell his Bard everything, he needs to apologize, he needs to kiss him, he needs to smell him happy and content again, he needs- The man stabs a knife into Jaskier's arm, making Jaskier shriek in agony. He needs to kill some people.

[blackjacktheboss]

may you learn to mend yourself

Rachel doubles over for a moment, then stands up straight. Her eyes glow serpent green, and when she speaks it sounds as if there are three of her speaking at once.  “Three shall go west for a sister’s blessing,  Sail the Sparrow to Love’s ancient dwelling,  All shall be lost and then at once found,  Lead a True Hero to where what you seek sleeps sound,  The Earth shall shake to set the Wild free,  And ultimately Love’s will shall come to be.” Every light in the pavilion flickers and Rachel takes a few staggered steps backwards before sliding down into a seat. “It’s weird every time.” (or Percy and Annabeth try to find their ways back to themselves and, hopefully, back to each other)

[frog-with-no-therapy]

I want a spider X dcu but have Peter working at the league's base in space as a mechanic or a scientist, cause of course they will have the best material and information to help him make a way home. Except that Peter is weird.

Like, weird weird. Like, spider bite kind of weird with a hint of different culture from a different world kind of weird.

Listen most of his interactions with humans in their world is with them cause he's at the watchtower all the time, so his understanding of what is normal is a bit skew, and he probably also got used to acting more spidery, especially when in a lab or sm (courtesy of his time at the avenger tower where he doesn't really have to hide his spidery side)

Then you take into account him having a different kind of humour and a different set of memes and you have the whole justice league thinking he's secretly an alien

[animezinglife]

I don't know about you all, but I'm getting even more excited about @elucienweekofficial being just around the corner! To celebrate, here's a sneak peek from my newest one-shot, The Ways We Mend:

I can't wait to share this with you and see all the incredible contributions others make to celebrate our favorite fox and fawn!

[abbygracerecs]

Shawn Mendes Fic Recommendations

If you guys are interested in a Shawn Mendes jacket, click here!

You are my favorite - @watchmegetobsessed

Did we just get married? - @watchmegetobsessed

Don’t blame it on me - @watchmegetobsessed

The song was about you - @watchmegetobsessed

We can’t be friends anymore - @watchmegetobsessed bro the angst made me cry

Glad it’s you - @5-seconds-of-bucky

Happily ever after - @softboywriting

New years nightmare - @tbyfandoms

Not important - @lonelyreputation

Unmated - @softboywriting

Mine - @softboywriting

His muse - @redrebecca

Aw, nuts - @yournameoneverypage smut

Arpeggio - @lonelyreputation

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Y'know I find it incredibly ironic that in my Chronicles of Narnia fic series, an interesting inversion in fate (and character development) finds the most rebellious among the most devoted to restoring Aslan’s kingdom, while the most faithful fell the furthest. Edmund turns back at the tree and becomes a king of Narnia alongside Caspian, helping guide it into a new golden age and earning the title of the Once and Future King, while Lucy literally becomes an eldritch goddess and is implied to have straight up killed Aslan at some point. Edmund gets his redemption arc and then some, becoming one of the greatest kings in Narnian history, securing the legacy of Aslan, while Lucy, the most faithful, falls further than even Lucifer and ends up usurping God himself, not because she desires power, but because she sees the way that Aslan uses it as unjust.

And yet...both of them are doing this for the same reason. To be a champion of the downtrodden. To correct injustice. To secure themselves and their own kingdoms so that it can never be stolen from them again.

Gotta love some foils/parallels!

[sunjinjo]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Lumier (@lumier009)

Feast your eyes on this absolutely gorgeous (and delightfully sadistic) new ✨fanart✨ from Lumier for Splendorous Skies, drawn alongside me writing the newest chapter!

Sometimes to go forward on your quest, you need to get yourself a little shattered. Or maybe those guiding you don't have the best of plans, even though they know the way so well...?

Chapter 12: Dahri

The Wanderer and his Pari companion follow the leader of the Skeptics to the final Great Song of Khvarena.

Sorush pointed a wing at his fallen form, the pulse of his Vision so slow and subdued. “Carry him, Vijnanapati. The Bloomguard commands you.” The Skeptic bowed at once. “As you say, Lady Sorush.” He crouched down, carefully slipping his hands around Kintsugi’s waist and knees, scooping him up against his chest until the puppet’s head lolled to rest against him. His eyebrows rose minutely. “…Sosi was right. He is very light.” “He will not be a burden,” Sorush nodded, unable to banish the urgency from her voice. “Let us depart.”

[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

[mendesblurb]

Happy Canada Day Rai!

May I request a blurb where reader x shawn watch the sunrise together ♥️

Sunrise

Shawn Mendes x female reader

Word Count: ~275

Warning ⚠️: fluff,maybe grammar error and maybe some punctuation errors.

A/N: I didn’t really edit this, I’m so sorry anon, it took me forever to finish this too and also sorry that it’s short 🥺

You sat down on the cozy blanket as Shawn sat behind you with his arms and legs draped around you, holding you close,” It’s nice here,” He sighed, shaping the words against your skin, and his breath felt hot on your neck.

“Mhmm,” You hummed, cradling yourself more to him.

Together you enjoy the sight of the sun rising as it casts an orange reflection on the water. At the same time, Shawn would occasionally nuzzle his head against your neck and gently kiss along the exposed skin in his reach while trailing along the backside of your ear and leaning down to your shoulder to drag his lips along it gently.

This time you and Shawn were very determined to actually watch the sunrise and not fall asleep like the last time.

You let yourself soak in his kisses and the beauty around you for a moment longer, just watching as the light painted the sky a brand new color before turning to him, “I have a wild idea.”

He sighed, already knowing what you mean and starts shaking his head at the thought of it, “Oh no,no, No!”

“Cmon...,Please!” You pleaded as you stood up, choosing to still slip your dress straps off your shoulders and letting them slide down and pool around your ankles.

“Y/N...” He muttered, looking around him to see if anyone was nearby.

“Baby, relax; we’re in the middle of nowhere,” You drag him closer to the water, “No one will see us,” You grin widely again before silencing his further protests with a kiss on his lips, “I promise that.”

Shawn let himself melt into the kiss before agreeing to strip out of his clothes and join you for a swim.

———————————————————————————————

Thank you for reading guys... feel free to like, reblog, follow my account, leave a comment and my chat is always open for random chats or requests... appreciate every single one of you... ❤️

Taglist (open) : @monikamendes @holland-styles @bvttercupbby @lonelyreputation @badreputationlove @shawn-is-my-giant-jellybean @benito-mi-vida @swiftmendeshoran @yournameoneverypage @shawn-is-bruh @mendesbhraanth @perfectlywrongsm @imaginashawnn @smendes-forever @nervousmendes @whenyoureadyholland @shawn-youth @myboyshawn @camilalewiss @camilalewisss @theregoesmyherojd @nanijaac1 @shawnieeboyy @silverswallow @inlovewithmendes-blog @mendeslola-blog @mendesx123 @23kofmendes @jellyloml @chipofmendes @poohmendes @wutheringmendes @shawnmendesbuddy​ @chocochipcookie305

Story Code: 06122345

[samstree]

“Ow, ow, ow…” Jaskier hisses, holding his injured shoulder still. The arrow pulls at his flesh suddenly. “Ow! Are you trying to kill me, witch?”

He turns around to send a glare, only to find Yennefer rolling her eyes.

“It needs to come out so I can heal you, bard,” she says pointedly, one hand holding him by the arm, the other wrapped around that gods-damned arrow. “Now hold still, and stop being a baby.”

She mumbles something about even Ciri making less of a fuss with injuries, and Jaskier makes his most offended noise, ready to throw back more insults.

“I’ll have you know, I was the bravest bait who ever lived, as appointed by a princess! And this is the proof of my bravery! How many bards have taken an arrow in the back? Nary one, I say! I am not being a baby, you cruel, heartless—”

A sharp pain shoots through his shoulder as Yennefer pulls out the arrow in one swift motion, nearly blinding him. Jaskier’s breath catches, and all sounds die in his throat as the world darkens for a moment. The surprise of it all leaves him shaking, his chest heaving.

“It’ll be over soon…”

Distantly, Jaskier knows Yennefer is saying something as she works her magic, but all he can focus on is the pain and the warm trickle of blood down his back. He touches the tips of his fingers on instinct, a self-soothing motion he’s developed in the past year.

“Hey.”

A gentle hand lands on where the arrow struck him, and Jaskier gasps, realizing Yennefer is now touching smooth, unbroken skin. All the pain is gone.

“Hmm,” Jaskier says, intelligently, blinking as he tries to move his shoulder. Nothing tugs at the muscles underneath. He’s as good as new. “Oh, I—Yennefer, I guess I should—”

“Don’t thank me.” She has sat down beside him, one hand still on his shoulder, a magical tingling under her fingertips. “Promised I’d save you, didn’t I?”

Jaskier chuckles, exhaling with relief. “Did you? Not before tormenting me greatly, though.”

Yennefer blinks, violet eyes boring into him. The next thing he knows, she’s leaning down to press her lips to his shoulder, right where the phantom pain has faded. The kiss ends quickly, but it is soft, bordering on sweet.

“Oh…” he breathes.

His skin is now tingling for an entirely different reason.

“What about now, oh brave bard?” she asks, half-teasing, half-sincere. Their hands find each other’s, linking together. She squeezes in reassurance, careful to avoid the burn scars on his fingers. “Still cruel and heartless?”

Jaskier holds onto her hand in return, heart picking up its pace. He doesn’t know how she does it, driving him up the wall and making his insides melt into a warm puddle of goo at the same time, all the while being her most infuriatingly witty self. There must be a special magic spell for it.

“No,” he answers, a smile stretching across his face. She raises her eyebrows, as a challenge, as a dare, but he settles on something also half-teasing, half-sincere. “Kind and generous, is what you are, my dear, dear witch.”

He takes Yennefer’s hand to his lips and kisses her in return, and watches violet eyes melt with warmth.

If there was a magic spell, Jaskier thinks, he must have been enchanted by her a long time ago.

(this is for @cherryjuicegf <33 I counted the number of crumbs you were getting and took pity...)

[harrywavycurly]

I’m sad WWS is over I need to hear Harry’s convo with Shawn like the whole thing Sarah please I know he was mean🤤🙃🫠

Hiii lovey!! I’m sad it’s over as well but you can always come into my inbox and check in on them and see how they’re doing! I will happily give you Harry’s phone call with Shawn😂💖

-find all things Where We Started here✨

A/N: Harry has to let Shawn know to leave you alone but poor Shawn doesn’t even know what he’s talking about, enjoy Harry being mean but not too mean ✨

“Hello?” “Hello Shawn…” “Uh…hey…Harry what’s…up?” “I’m going to get right down to it…I know you and I have some mutual friends one of them being Niall and the other being my….my bestfriend.” “Yeah…yeah we have some friends in common-” “I know she asked you about a marriage pact when you’re fifty and if you’re both single you two will get married and-” “a marriage pact? I wasn’t asked to marry her-” “Don’t interrupt Shawn it’s rude…now just know you won’t be marrying her when you’re fifty or really at any age because if you so much as try to even date her…well you’ll have to deal with me and I know I’m all about treating people with kindness but for you I’ll make an exception…so if I were you..I wouldn’t even flirt with her a little too hard around me and before you try to say you don’t flirt with her please don’t try to take me for an idiot because I’ve seen you two together…so just maybe stick to being her friend and you’ll be fine…understand?” “Uh…I think…I think so yeah?…but Harry I really don’t have a marriage pact or anything with her…and as for the flirting I mean…we’re just friendly that’s it.” “God I really can’t stand you…I just said don’t try to deny it didn’t I? And here you are denying it? I get it…I understand why you flirt with her she’s easy to be flirty and fun with…but just know it ends now okay? No more…because I don’t want to make her upset and if I see you flirting or trying to get closer to her than a normal friendship…well I’ll do something that will very much make her upset.” “Like what?…Harry are you threatening me?” “No…not at all why would I have to threaten you?” “Because you think I’m going to make a move on your bestfriend?” “Well tell me Shawn…are you going to make a move on her?” “No.” “Then no…I’m not threatening you…but this was a lovely chat…hope we don’t have to have another one.” “Yeah…great talking to you Harry…same…hope you don’t have to call me like this again.” “That’ll be up to you now won’t it?…but bye Shawn see you at Niall’s little party next month.” “Bye Harry…”