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kirascottage · 3 years

Note

Phone sex/ guided mastrubation with sirius😩

one phone call away

sirius black x f. reader

summary: sirius is on vacation while he gets horny, the only way to fix that is through the phone.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: modern!au, phone sex, guided/mutual masturbation (fingering and jerking off), swearing, praise literally so much praise, insinuations of switch!reader and switch!sirius, light d/s roles, nipple play, pet names

join my taglist here.

Sirius once thought, a rather unusual one, as to why he couldn’t have summers like Phineas and Ferb. Mind you, at the time he was around the age of seven and he could barely hold a wand properly; but even then he was still envious.

As of now, or around his age group per-say, he realized why most summers were dull (Family gatherings and fancy balls were consistently a dud.) And the only time he actually enjoyed school was when he was laughing off with his mates or spending time with his girlfriend.

The noble Black family was notorious for their out-of-town ‘vacations’ as a Muggle would call It, or even other Wizard families that weren’t in the same circle as the most ancient and respected Sacred 28 families.

Rather, there were excluded, private meetings on islands with glistening palm trees and waves beyond compare exclusively for only the purest of wizards with forged ink on their arms complying to their master (Load of shit In Sirius’ opinion) but that wasn’t concerning to Walburga and Orion’s son’s.

Most people would have boasted at the rare opportunity to be on a private Island with magic. (You claimed It was similar, based on pictures, to the Islands on Bachelor In Paradise.) But, It assuredly wasn’t anything extraordinary to Sirius.

He felt as if he was merely tagging along with his parents as they forewarned him to sit straight and greet his cousins. Andromeda rolled her eyes at the formalities but pursued as they had been typically served by house-elves severely shaking to the brim in fear.

Sirius’ only escape being through mindless conversations through text or call, as well as sleeping through the moonlit night and well into the dewy morning. His parents valiantly attempted to reprimand him for his childlike behaviors as they entitled It, but it was no use as their son really could not give a shit.

The sun was dawning on the palisade of day, peeking through the sheer onyx curtains that reflected directly onto his sheen mattress. Sirius proceeded to whine like a child at the beaming light almost prying his eyelids open, his brother well out of bed exploring the area nearby while Sirius dawned on his rest.

Sirius squinted sluggishly as his overgrown, brunet tuffs fell over his eyes; his hands immediately retreating to the phone charging on his nightstand, the time and date reading July 7th, 8:57 AM.

You had texted him an hour prior as you had been working on waking up early in the morning for some sort of ‘Morning Routine’ that you had been working on since the summer began barely a few weeks prior.

3 new messages from — angel

07:57 — angel: morning fucker :)

07:57 — angel: text me when you wake up

07:58 — angel: or i’ll come to that beachy place ur at and i’ll chop off your hair

In the meantime between your awakening and his, you had seemingly done fine in the early hours of the morning; you had caught up on your rewatch of Gilmore Girls as well as updated Lily on Chad Michael Murray's relationship status typing, “Lily he’s thirty-nine and married.” but she simply replied with a Spotify link to the song, ‘Age Ain’t Nothing but a Number’ by Aaliyah. Stubborn ginger.

His fingers had dangled over the glowing screen for a few moments as he scanned the messages, repeatedly blinking to get the morning blear out of his eyes whilst shifting his sideways position onto his back. He laid back on his spine for a few moments before peering cautiously over the blankets and noticing a slight curvature in the comforter, his brows threading at the tent before groaning dismally.

Morning Wood.

“Fuck me,” He grumbled amid another mighty groan. His thumbs hastily danced across the screen in direct reply.

3 new messages from — sirius <3

09:01 — sirius <3: good morning to you too puppy

09:01 — sirius <3: remind me to never let you near my luscious hair

09:02 — sirius <3: call me

Practically immediately after the read receipt flew under his text an incoming call began to chime across his screen. The nickname ‘angel’ appearing on such; he smirked at the familiar sight of the nickname. The pad of his thumb flew to the green circle and immediately pressed the device to his ear where he was met with your voice.

“You’re up rather early. Special occasion or could you just not wait to talk to me?” You gently teased through the phone, almost completely oblivious as to Sirius’ intentions through the phone call; the time difference between the both of you was almost minimal so it had been morning from your precise location to his.

Even though you had been awake for the preceding hour, you had yet to leave your all too comfortable bed. Your fingers mindlessly playing with the null strings on your sleep shirt whilst grinning triumphantly to yourself at the rasp in his low baritone as he greeted you.

“Hush. You know I always wanna talk to you.” He spoke truthfully into his phone, earnestly hoping your voice would detour his thoughts south from his rather inappropriate dream, especially on a family outing, but the teasing tone in your voice only heightened his… Issue.

“I’m going to choose to use my Intuition and disagree with that statement because I highly doubt you have already called James this morning to give him his routine hugs and kisses through the phone. I can smell lies through the phone, Sirius Black. You’re up to something.” Your voice was almost sung in the concluding line of your sentence.

He merely shook his head as if you could see but rather adjusted himself again, this time against the headboard as he spoke.

“Just... missed you.” His voice rasped lowered as he trailed off, his nervous fingers flew to his eyes to rub the trailing remainders of sleep out of them.

“Uh-huh.” You speculatory spoke into the phone, your irises one focused on the minimal peaking of the sun's rays through your lilac curtains, a similar view to Sirius.’ Although Sirius’ palm was now eerily grasping at his clothed bulge.

“Oh, shut it.” He grunted into the phone. You already had gathered somewhat of an idea as to what he was up to.

“Mhmm,” You hummed into the mobile phone. You waited as the moment of breathless silence had passed and was filled with a wanton groan at his thumb grazing the material over his tip.

Your breath hitched at the noise, instantly recalling the creak in the front doorway as it shut twenty minutes prior as your family had left that morning to visit your grandparent’s house as you had offered to watch your pets; leaving you home alone.

“I need you,” Sirius had practically whined into the glowing device. “—Please, baby.” He begged as his voice stumbled over his words. You practically inhaled the next few breaths of air like a vacuum at his wordless request. “And what would you like me to do, Sirius?” Breathily, you queried as to your next move; your fingers prodding at the material of your shirt.

“Want you to touch your pretty tits, angel.” He lethargically requested— too distracted on relieving himself to stern up his voice— his deft fingers carefully prying his cock out of the flimsy material of his boxers and his palm finally wrapping around his thickening girth.

Your voice faltered at his words, the unnerving territory being discovered whilst your fingers had managed to beneath your top. Your fingers steadily managed their way past your stomach to the peaks of your breast, gently taking your thumb and your forefinger pinching at the swelling flesh.

Your breath hitched. A sufficient indication of your actions.

“Good girl.”

Your head managed to jerk against the bedpost behind you, your fingers still pinching at the swollen bud as he spoke.

“You remember how I touch you, yeah?” He slowly inquired, His hearing cranked up to dire extremity as he undoubtedly heard a faint gasp come from the other line. “Be slow, puppy. Be grateful I'm letting you touch yourself.” Sirius had grunted while his hand had managed to retain a mindful pace as he had pumped at his enlarging cock.

Mewling at his words a raspy chuckle was reciprocated on the other end of the line from your phone. Another mumble rolled merrily off his tongue as he spoke.

“Want you to just touch that pretty, little cunt of yours how I do.” Your fingers removing themselves from your top and residing themselves beneath your undergarments as he said to do so.

His patience was thinning till a low whimper vibrated through his phone, your eager fingers warily circling the swollen button once, moaning as you remained friction against your engorged clit.

“Being so good for me, poppet.”

You panted amid his lengthening groans, a slurred sentence escaping his lips wasn't quite detectable. Your fingers had inevitably continued to spread yourself to the maximum extent, the pads of your two fingers circling your clit again in a quicker fashion. This time in a conscious efforts to please him.

The stimulated nerves in your system were increasingly rising, his guidings muttered languidly over the phone as your leading digits pulsed through you as they slickly drifted between your walls. His slurred praises steadied in synchronization with your keen wails that rapidly occurred from one end of the phone to the next.

“Those pretty noises, baby, fuck—” Your mouth practically hung at the slight praise as your eager fingers were slick inside your cunt. You closed your eyes as he spoke, your fingers slipping as the phone was lethargically gripped in your palm and a mumbling sentence of words jumbled off your tongue.

“Use your words.” He ordered sternly whilst the firm grip on his cock was rapidly inclining at the pulsing pressure bound to release within the next few moments.

“Sirius.” You mumbled incoherently.

“Come on, baby. Speak up.”

“Just— wish you could touch me.” Your voice was hushed as you panted, your fingers delving further between the walls of your cunt. Your mind had begun scrambling, a rousing warmth dancing around your cheeks as you were barely mindful of the lewd acts you were committing just in the early hours of the morning.

“Such a good listener.” His praising words were barely audible as he praised your actions without even looking at you, his words coming out in breathy sighs as he commended.

His eyes were shut as well. He was using the best of his blurred imagination to pretend the rough calloused edges of his palm were the soft pads of your hands wrapped around his cock as you egged him on denying him. He groaned deeply as he readjusted his pace to his liking, your distinctive voice breaking his focus.

“Siri— Sirius, I’m gonna... I’m gonna come, please.”

“Come for me, baby.” He paused. “Fuck. C’mon now, darling.”

Gingerly curling your fingers in your cunt your legs shook beneath your wrinkled comforter while the breaching coil had snapped like a stretched elastic in your belly. A simple coil of euphoria delving over your visage, manipulating your muscles by the appendages that were squeezed between your cunt had begun working to an end.

Your back revealed a characteristic curve as it arched across the headboard and miniature pellets of sweat dressed your hairline. Approaching your end, you heaved forceful breaths that progressed whilst the device gradually slipped between your fingertips.

Your vocal cords had practically ceased to an end as Sirius’ bobbing hand had continued and your hand had withdrawn itself from your shorts. Your hand sprawled itself across your navel whilst his mewling groans had exceeded.

“Want you to come f’me, Sirius.”

“Oh, fuck.” That was all he muttered between gritted teeth as the thumb had jerked across the tip of his shaft. His neck lost all function in keeping itself upright now leant fully against the headboard as he was tentatively approaching his releasing point.

The disgruntled whines listening to your voice only increased from his trachea as he progressed and the tightening twitch in his cock began to release like a flood gate that had been barred and now ultimately reached its undenying release.

He impatiently muttered the words ‘baby, baby, baby’ under his breath ever so shrill. The firm octave of his voice is almost dismembered and replaced with a whining submissive that’s begging piteously for punishment till he groaned out and his eyelids were barely cracked open.

“Shit. That was…” Sirius reluctantly began to trail off before you had cut him off.

“New.”

He languorously laughed at your breathy articulation. Sufficiently clearing his throat, he rolled his eyes at the fact he would be inevitably forced to clean his sheets as using magic outside of school premises was banned and Regulus finding his little mess would be much more than traumatizing.

“We should do that—“ Your throat was cleared over the other side of the line as an ice breaker, “—More often.”

You both hesitated a moment as the silence was filled with palpated hearts and heaving breaths, a small chime ringing through your phone on his end. “Hold on, baby. Gimme a sec.”

3 new messages from — jimjam pothead

09:46 — jimjam pothead: no good morning kisses?!

09:46 — jimjam pothead: if ur doing what i think ur doing … ur fucking nasty mate

09:52 — jimjam pothead: also i think lily has a crush on someone named chad?? is there a chad in Gryffindor?

“My God.” Sirius snorted, cradling the phone back up to his ear. “What is it?” You spoke amid your embarrassed laughter. “James, It’s fucking James.”

taglist: @miiamour @shadesofvelma @acosmis-t @emmaev @lesbiansammyy @kaqua @anything-forourmoony @zzzfour @effyypotter @sprucewoodlover @black-rose-29 @myalupinblack

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bamf-jaskier · 3 years

Text

Who the Fuck is Eskel?

If you have ever gone on The Witcher tag on Tumblr, I’m sure you’ve seen dozens of blogs dedicated to this guy named Eskel and for people who have just seen the show you might be wondering - who the fuck is this guy?

Hi, I’m Aaliyah, and this is Part 5 of my WTF Series - a crash course in subjects from The Witcher Books.

Post under the cut

Let’s jump in by talking about what books Eskel is in. He’s only mentioned in one line in The Last Wish, The Tower of Swallows and The Time of Contempt. He has a flashback scene in Lady of the Lake and the only book where he plays a heavy role in is Blood of Elves.

For all you Eskel Stans out there, this is good news, because it looks like S2 of the show is going to be taking some cues from Blood of Elves and we do know Eskel is going to be appearing so these scenes might be showing up in some form or another in the show.

We first meet Eskel in Blood of Elves when Geralt is first bringing Ciri to the keep:

“Who comes?” Ciri heard a menacing, metallic voice which sounded like a dog’s bark. “Geralt?”

“Yes, Eskel. It’s me.”

“Come in.”

The witcher dismounted, took Ciri from the saddle, stood her on the ground and pressed a bundle into her little hands which she grabbed tightly, only regretting that it was too small for her to hide behind completely.

“Wait here with Eskel,” he said. “I’ll take Roach to the stables.”

“Come into the light, laddie,” growled the man called Eskel. “Don’t lurk in the dark.”

Ciri looked up into his face and barely restrained her frightened scream. He wasn’t human. Although he stood on two legs, although he smelled of sweat and smoke, although he wore ordinary human clothes, he was not human. No human can have a face like that, she thought.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” repeated Eskel.

She didn’t move. In the darkness she heard the clatter of Roach’s horseshoes grow fainter. Something soft and squeaking ran over her foot. She jumped. “Don’t loiter in the dark, or the rats will eat your boots.”

Still clinging to her bundle Ciri moved briskly towards the light. The rats bolted out from beneath her feet with a squeak. Eskel leaned over, took the package from her and pulled back her hood.

“A plague on it,” he muttered. “A girl. That’s all we need.”

She glanced at him, frightened. Eskel was smiling. She saw that he was human after all, that he had an entirely human face, deformed by a long, ugly, semi-circular scar running from the corner of his mouth across the length of his cheek up to the ear.

“Since you’re here, welcome to Kaer Morhen,” he said. “What do they call you?”

“Ciri,” Geralt replied for her, silently emerging from the darkness. Eskel turned around. Suddenly, quickly, wordlessly, the witchers fell into each other’s arms and wound their shoulders around each other tight and hard. For one brief moment.

“Wolf, you’re alive.”

“I am.”

“All right.” Eskel took a torch from its bracket. “Come on. I’m closing the inner gates to stop the heat escaping.”

Couple things here. First, for all the game fans out there, Eskel’s scar in the books is VERY different. It’s not the lightening-like claw marks that go over his eye but instead it goes from the corner of his mouth to his ear. This is interesting because it really parallels in my mind Ciri’s scar she gets later on that extends from under her eye to her ear.

Also, the little reunion between Geralt and Eskel, so sweet. The line about Eskel in Last Wish establishes that they were close friends so here is the snippet just to give more backstory to the two of them:

“Once, years ago, when a little snot-faced brat following his studies in Kaer Morhen, the Witchers’ Settlement, he and a friend, Eskel, had captured a huge forest bumblebee and tied it to a jug with a thread. They were in fits of laughter watching the antics of the tied bumblebee, until Vesemir, their tutor, caught them at it and tanned their hides with a leather strap.”

Childhood friends and brothers is just so damn great. Actually, speaking of brothers, it is stated in Blood of Elves that Geralt and Eskel actually look very similar and are often mistaken for brothers such as in this scene from Triss’s POV.

Eskel stood next to Geralt, resembling the Wolf like a brother apart from the colour of his hair and the long scar which disfigured his cheek. And the youngest of the Kaer Morhen witchers, Lambert, was there with his usual ugly, mocking expression. Vesemir was not there.

“Welcome and come in,” said Eskel. “It is as cold and blustery as if someone has hung themselves. Ciri, where are you off to? The invitation does not apply to you. The sun is still high, even if it is obscured. You can still train.”

“Hey.” The Enchantress tossed her hair. “Politeness comes cheap in Witchers’ Keep now, I see. Ciri was the first to greet me, and brought me to the castle. She ought to keep me company—”

This really interests me because Ciri is very young child when she meets Eskel and she is very terrified of him and intimidated. Which makes sense, she is very traumatized. But, when Triss meets Eskel she only makes a short note of his scar and focuses more on his resemblance to Geralt and commenting on the lack of politeness. It just goes to show how different characters perceive people differently. A child’s perspective of a warrior is not going to be the same as a Mage’s.

“You didn’t even know.” She nodded in what was now a calm, concerned and gentle reproach. “You’re pathetic guardians. She’s ashamed to tell you because she was taught not to mention such complaints to men. And she’s ashamed of the weakness, the pain and the fact that she is less fit. Has any one of you thought about that? Taken any interest in it? Or tried to guess what might be the matter with her? Maybe her very first bleed happened here, in Kaer Morhen? And she cried to herself at night, unable to find any sympathy, consolation or even understanding from anyone? Has any one of you given it any thought whatsoever?”

“Stop it, Triss,” moaned Geralt quietly. “That’s enough. You’ve achieved what you wanted. And maybe even more.”

“The devil take it,” cursed Coën. “We’ve turned out to be right idiots, there’s no two ways about it, eh, Vesemir, and you—”

“Silence,” growled the old witcher. “Not a word.”

It was Eskel’s behaviour which was most unlikely; he got up, approached the enchantress, bent down low, took her hand and kissed it respectfully. She swiftly withdrew her hand. Not so as to demonstrate her anger and annoyance but to break the pleasant, piercing vibration triggered by the witcher’s touch. Eskel emanated powerfully. More powerfully than Geralt.

“Triss,” he said, rubbing the hideous scar on his cheek with embarrassment, “help us. We ask you. Help us, Triss.”

Now, if you can’t tell, Triss’ favorite is Eskel. This scene is also implies that Eskel is more magically powerful than Geralt which Is very interesting. But Triss is an Eskel stan, in fact a couple lines later Triss thinks to herself:

Vesemir hawked again. But Eskel, dear Eskel, kept his head and once more behaved as was fitting.

“Of course,” he said casually, smiling. “We understand and clearly we will postpone your exercises until your indisposition has passed. We will also cut the theory short and, if you feel unwell, we will put it aside for the time being, too. If you need any medication or—”

Eskel definitely has the older sibling energy where he ends up in charge sometimes and knows how to keep a cool head. He’s also the most aware of societal norms of behavior which is why Triss likes his so much. She really respects people who know how to move in society.

There’s also this scene in Blood of Elves where Eskel is drinking and offers Triss some:

“White Seagull.”

“What?”

“A mild remedy,” Eskel smiled, “for pleasant dreams.”

“Damn it! A witcher hallucinogenic? That’s why your eyes shine like that in the evenings!”

“White Seagull is very gentle. It’s Black Seagull that is hallucinogenic.”

“If there’s magic in this liquid I’m not allowed to take it!”

“Exclusively natural ingredients,” Geralt reassured her but he looked, she noticed, disconcerted. He was clearly afraid she would question them about the elixir’s ingredients. “And diluted with a great deal of water. We would not offer you anything that could harm you.”

I think it’s very funny how secret The Witcher keeps all their potions and elixirs. Whether it’s mushrooms or potions, they gotta keep those secret drugs locked down tight. Also the fact that Eskel is the fantasy equivalent of high every night? Love that for him.

Eskel really is the peace-maker of the group. He’s not a push-over by any means but he is definitely more willing to play along that any of the others. When Triss is talking at night, Eskel is really the only one listening and engaging, even if it’s very half-hearted.

In the evenings, consistently and determinedly, Triss guided the long conversations held in the dark hall, lit only by the bursts of flames in the great hearth, towards politics. The witchers’ reactions were always the same. Geralt, a hand on his forehead, did not say a word.

Vesemir nodded, from time to time throwing in comments which amounted to little more than that “in his day” everything had been better, more logical, more honest and healthier.

Eskel pretended to be polite, and neither smiled nor made eye contact, and even managed, very occasionally, to be interested in some issue or question of little importance. Coën yawned openly and looked at the ceiling, and Lambert did nothing to hide his disdain.

And he is really the only sort-of listener to Triss’ stories and retellings of events:

This time it was Triss who began to yawn and stare at the ceiling. This time she was the one who remained silent – until Eskel turned to her with a question. A question which she had anticipated.

“And what is it really like in the south, on the Yaruga? Is it worth going there? We wouldn’t like to find ourselves in the middle of any trouble.”

“What do you mean by trouble?”

“Well, you know…” he stammered, “you keep telling us about the possibility of a new war… About constant fighting on the borders, about rebellions in the lands invaded by Nilfgaard. You said they’re saying the Nilfgaardians might cross the Yaruga again—”

“So what?” said Lambert. “They’ve been hitting, killing and striking against each other constantly for hundreds of years. It’s nothing to worry about. I’ve already decided – I’m going to the far South, to Sodden, Mahakam and Angren. It’s well known that monsters abound wherever armies have passed. The most money is always made in places like that.”

“True,” Coën acknowledged. “The neighbourhood grows deserted, only women who can’t fend for themselves remain in the villages… scores of children with no home or care, roaming around… Easy prey attracts monsters.”

“And the lord barons and village elders,” added Eskel, “have their heads full of the war and don’t have the time to defend their subjects. They have to hire us. It’s true. But from what Triss has been telling us all these evenings, it seems the conflict with Nilfgaard is more serious than that, not just some local little war. Is that right, Triss?”

Once more, Eskel is the peace-maker of the conversation and he brings it back around to what Triss originally said and also points to her expertise. Basically, Eskel is not really a fan of verbal conflict.

This is actually the last line we see Eskel in a scene outside of the flashback in Lady of the Lake. After this, Triss, Geralt and Ciri head off. It is important to note that near the end of Blood of Elves Ciri says this about Yennefer:

The lady magician knew a surprising amount about a witcher’s sword and “dance.” She knew a great deal about the secrets of Kaer Morhen; there was no doubt she had visited the Keep. She knew Vesemir and Eskel. Although not Lambert and Coën.

Yennefer used to visit Kaer Morhen. Ciri guessed why – when they spoke of the Keep – the eyes of the enchantress grew warm, lost their angry gleam and their cold, indifferent, wise depth. If the words had befitted Yennefer’s person, Ciri would have called her dreamy, lost in memories.

So clearly Yennefer is also friendly with Eskel and knows him. I love the idea that Yennefer regularly visited Kaer Morhen before Ciri came into Geralt’s care and I would literally cry if they did a flashback sequence in S2 of Yennefer visiting Geralt in Kaer Morhen.

The flashback sequence in Lady of the Lake with Eskel goes like this:

The fire in the huge fireplace went out. A gust of wind from the mountains whistled through the crevices of the walls and screamed through the improperly closed shutters of Kaer Morhen, Home of the Witchers.

“Damn it!” Eskel said, standing up and going to the cupboard. “Seagull or vodka?”

“Vodka,” Geralt and Coen said with one voice.

“Sure,” interjected Vesemir, hidden in the shadows, “Yes, of course! Drown your stupidity in vodka. Damn fools!”

“It was an accident…” muttered Lambert. “She had already mastered the comb…”

“Shut your big mouth, you idiot! I don’t want to hear any more! I warned you, if something happened to that little girl…”

“Enough,” Coen interrupted him, softly. “She sleeps peacefully. Deep and healthy. She will wake up a bit sore, but that’s it. About the trance, and what happened, she will not even remember it.”

“As long as you remember,” said Vesemir, panting angrily. “Cabbage heads! Pour for me too, Eskel.”

They were silent for a long time, listening intently to the howling gale.

“We will need to call someone,” Eskel finally said. “We will need to bring a sorcerer here. What is happening to the girl, it is not normal.”

Eskel is one of The Witcher who really pushes to call Triss in order to help with Ciri’s trances. Also, once again this guy is hitting the drinks.

So yeah! That’s Eskel in the books. Based on how in the non-canon wedding short Asaps wrote where he ended up having Triss and Eskel get together, I think his hints of them having a connection in the books is very intentional and if The Witcher wasn’t such a god damn tragedy and Triss wasn’t mooning over Geralt, I’m willing to bet they would have gotten together at some point.

Eskel is the peace-maker of the family and is the best at recognizing the norms of “polite society” (or at least noble society) and while Ciri might have been scared of his appearance, it isn’t enough to phase Triss who is considered rather vain. In fact, she seems to respect Eskel the most out of the Witchers. Just imagine a dark-haired, scarred Geralt and BOOM, you got yourself an Eskel.

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oyesmendes · 4 years

Text

a year later

a/n: remember the person who asked for whiskey and pendants part two? and i told her no? well i was wrong. i made this a 5SOS and Shawn Mendes crossover LOL don’t killme

@mendesficsxbombay hope i didnt rip too hard

One year. They’ve been broken up for one year as of today, not that anyone was counting. Y/N couldn’t be bothered to count the number of days since the supposed love of her life broke her heart into pieces and left her hanging by a thread. She had better things to worry about. Like how she was on her way to an album release party for 5 Seconds of Summer, in her favourite scarlet red dress, the fabric clinging on to her body and hugging the curves she was once too shy to show off. Her hair was now cut short, the messy waves of her hair doing wonders to frame her face. She got a tan from her recent trip to Bora Bora, figured that she would go even if Shawn wasn’t the one to take her there. It was a solo trip to foreign land, scary yet exhilarating, and somehow in-between her time in Bora Bora and the party that she was now on the way to, Y/N found herself. She started dating again, no surprise one of the 5SOS band members, Calum. But she also finally knew how she wanted to live her life by her own rules, to play the game her way. She let herself love in the ways she hadn’t done before, and honestly, she was making good progress. Y/N was happy, so fucking happy and content with her life.

“We’re here” the driver announced as the car came to a stop. Y/N thanked him before stepping out of the car, making her way into the building. She met with her friends at the rooftop bar, nursing a cocktail as they caught up and discussed the album tracks. The band had greeted her with a wide grin on their faces, throwing around too many inside jokes they had made during the course of curating the album. She then shared the deepest, most loving kiss with her boyfriend and then left him to party the night away with his brothers. Y/N was having a good time, dancing to the songs that she had painstakingly produced. That was until he sauntered in.

One of her friends nudged her slightly, turning her attention to the entrance where Shawn stood, exchanging hellos with the band. She would’ve guessed he would be here, after all he was friends with the band before she worked with them. There was a pang in her chest when she actually took in his appearance. He had an acid wash denim jacket on, signature white T-shirt with black skinny jeans, not forgetting his worn out Chelsea boots. He looked fresh as hell she wasn’t going to lie, his hair styled perfectly and the smile on his face as wide as when he first locked eyes with her. Before she could even react, Shawn’s eyes were scanning the crowd. It was as if he knew she would be there, and of course why would he not know? Her name was on the record for God’s sake. She quickly turned to face the bar, her friends providing the adequate distraction as they went on about their lives. Though it wasn’t long before a hand landed on Y/N’s shoulder, and the look on her girl friend’s faces was enough to tell her who it was.

“Hey” She breathed out. He had a beer in his hand, cheeks flushed from the influx of alcohol. Shawn grinned stupidly, babbling out a response to her. Y/N got off the bar stool, turning to face him.

“Nice to see you again.” A genuine smile was on her face now, because it was really nice to see him again, and the fact that he looked happy was good.

“I almost didn’t recognise you with your hair, and wow, this dress.”

“Thanks.” Y/N said shyly. The confidence that she brewed over the past year was now gone in an instant while she was under his eyes. She cursed at herself mentally, standing up straighter in her black stilettos. He never saw this side of her before and to Shawn, it was absolutely stunning. An awkward silence fell between the both of them, the chatter of the rooftop bar insufficient to fill the air. Y/N played with the rings on her fingers, hands still wrapped around the half empty glass.

“Can we talk? Maybe somewhere quiet?” Here we go. Y/N nodded, grabbing her glass off the table as she followed behind Shawn. They made their way through the small crowd, stopping to greet mutual friends every once in awhile. Shawn let them to a corner with less people, and a view overlooking the Los Angeles skyline. It felt like their first meeting all over again just that this time, her heart was in different place and the feelings between them far from mutual.

“This is nice isn’t it?” Shawn sighed, letting the cool wind brush his face. She hummed in response, watching the lights sparkle below them.

“I’m sorry for that night, Y/N” He tilted his body to face her. Throughout their two year relationship, Y/N was like an open book and Shawn knew her every move before she even thought about it. But right now, the book was closed, and he was trying really hard to read the words that weren’t there.

“I am too.” She turned to face him as well, and that’s when she noticed the pendant sitting on his chest. The one that she left on the floor of his apartment lobby, the one that brought them together and broke them apart. Her breath hitched in her throat when she felt Shawn grab onto her hand softly. There was no more spark, at least for her, it was just a shockwave sent through her system as she quickly pulled her hand back. Y/N watched as Shawn’s face dropped, him nodding understandingly.

“I just wanted to say I miss-“

“No, please don’t do this” She ran her hand through her hair, the messy curls now a disheveled mess.

“Let me apologise, Y/N. Let me fix this.”

“What for?”

“For the sake of our love.” Y/N let out a humourless chuckle at those words. This was some cliche scene straight out of a movie and right now, she wasn’t having it.

“For the sake of our love? Are you out of your mind, Shawn? There was no love between us the moment you led that stupid blonde chick- Sarah, come into our life. There was no love the moment you left me to clean up the pieces of that broken glass that afternoon.” Her voice was raised ever so slightly, earning the attention of some people nearby. She turned to face the skyline again. It felt like a sick joke to Y/N - now that she was happy, he wants to come rolling in? No God damn way.

“We both had a part to play that afternoon, Y/N.” Shawn stated as a matter-of-fact. Two can play this game.

“Yeah, but I didn’t have a part in sitting on your lap throughout the party that night.”

“I just wanted to apologise, why do you have to make this so hard?” Shawn sighed. Now Y/N felt the anger bubble in her chest. She slammed her cocktail down on the ledge to make a point.

“Do you think I had it easy? I look put together yes, but the scars from the heartbreak are still here, Shawn. I was hurt but I’m getting over it, I’m happy. As much as you would like for us to kiss and make up, I can safely tell you that it’s not going to happen. I’m not the same person anymore.” As if on cue, a six foot tall Australian made his way to Y/N’s side, hands wrapping around her waist protectively.

“Everything alright, love?” Calum kissed the top of her head, looking at her then at Shawn. Y/N could only smile and nod though the hurt on Shawn’s face was evidence that nothing was right. Calum acted oblivious to the situation, pulling her in even tighter.

“Then is it alright if I steal her away from ya for a minute?” Shawn nodded with a tight lipped smile as he watched her cuddle into the Calum’s side.

The rest of the night felt like a blur to Shawn. Y/N disappeared with Calum after the encounter with him to the other side of the bar so she could calm down. Once she emerged in the crowds again, Shawn had his eyes following her as she jumped from group to group with her boyfriend, if not she was stuck to the side of his bandmates or their girlfriends. He wanted to get to her, explain everything and let her punch him if she must. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, and how much he loved her. He wanted to show her the pictures of Aaliyah’s graduation, the new song he wrote a couple of weeks ago that he thought would be perfect for her to produce. And most importantly he wanted to show her the ring he meant to give her that night a year ago. But he couldn’t.

She looked too happy and confident in her own skin that he couldn’t bear stripping that away from her. She was in love, the glow of her skin and look in her eyes as she stared at her boyfriend didn’t keep anyone guessing. A loud laugh erupted from her lips while she stood next to one of the band members. Her eyes found Shawn’s and she looked for a brief moment before returning her attention back to the group.

“If you’re going to stare, at least be more discreet, mate” Calum said as he took the seat next to Shawn. Shawn stayed silent, eyes still following her as she leaned on the shoulder of one of the girls.

“I know you still love her.” Shawn looked at Calum who was undoubtedly a little drunk, but he was right, even a blind man could tell Shawn was still head over heels for her.

“I do.”

“But you’re in love with the old her.” What the fuck was this man talking about? Shawn thought to himself. He downed the last shot of tequila, wincing as the alcohol slid down his throat. Shawn wanted to get up from his seat and bolt out those doors, but Calum’s next words glued him to the bar stool.

“I know this is stupid, and trust me mate I can’t believe I’m talking to my girl’s ex-boyfriend, but yeah Y/N’s changed.”

“In what way?”

“In the smallest as well as the largest of ways.” Calum took a swig of his beer, “She no longer drinks whiskey like how she did a year ago. Made me get rid of all my whiskey glasses.”

Calum didn’t know it was a low blow, but Shawn felt the knife stab his heart. He waited for him to continue, “She’s so confident of her work now, and she’s one of the most creative people I know. She’s comfortable in her own skin, she’s happy-“

“You don’t know that.” Shawn cut him off but Calum could only smile to himself as he set his bottle down.

“I do, she wasn’t like this a year ago in that club.” Both their eyes flickered over when a large chorus of laughs came from her and her friends. She was dancing and twirling around, something she would never have done with Shawn.

“I get why you still love her, Shawn. But that’s the old her you’re seeing. This is a brand new Y/N, I hope you know.” Calum pat Shawn on the back before joining his friends. He watched as she kissed him softly on the lips and pulled him to dance with her. She was happy.

Shawn could only push the tray of shots back to the bartender as he made his way to leave the bar, to leave the woman he once called his own.

#shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes x reader #shawn peter raul mendes #5sos #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fic #5 second of summer imagines

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sinplisticshawn · 4 years

Text

get your kicks - prologue: home

pic cred shawnmendesgallery

A/N: hello hello happy new year friends!!!!! this shitshow of a story is brought to u by my procrastination and @evansweaters ’s 2k writing challenge. i haven’t written in a loooooong ass time, but i really wanna get back into it so even if it sucks im kinda okay with that. gotta start somewhere!!!! so yeah here we go. hope i do ya proud sami.

prompt: road trip au + shawn mendes (ft. college!shawn and best friend!shawn)

warnings: language, some heavy-handed exposition pls forgive me lol

word count: 1.7k

______

Amelina had fully expected the house to be empty when she walked in. Four in the afternoon on a Thursday meant her parents were both still at work, and if she remembered correctly, Luis would still be in his last period history class that he raved about every time he called. All of this in mind, she found it completely fair that she screamed bloody murder when all six feet and two inches of white man greeted her with a tackle from behind and a shout of her name.

“Shawn, you absolute ass, what are you doing?” she questioned with a glare when he laughed with his whole body.

“Waiting for you to get home?” he said as if it should be obvious why he was in her house alone when his own home was right next door. “Rosalia said you were coming home today and that I was welcome to wait on you. So I did. I missed you.”

Amelina finally caught her breath and relaxed into his tackle, letting it become a hug. His grip loosened when he dropped his head beside hers and spoke — a little softer that time with his voice muffled in her shoulder.

“Seven months was too long, Lina.”

She squeezed his arm.

“I know.”

______

“Oh my god, and did I even tell you Liyah has a boyfriend now too?”

The incredulous look on Shawn’s face and the way he dramatically dropped the butter knife and bun he had been holding made Lina snort before casting her mother a knowing glance. Lina and Shawn had spent some time at the dining table catching up on their semester apart before her mother arrived shortly after her. After properly welcoming her daughter home, Rosalia asked them to make themselves useful and get started on dinner.

“Does she now?” Lina said, doing her best to seem oblivious as she tossed the veggies in the pan.

“Yeah! I’m gone for half a semester and I come back and she’s all curled up with this Rohail kid on our couch!”

“Rohail? That’s one of Luis’s friends. Nice boy,” Rosalia said.

“I don’t care if he’s a nice boy, she’s fifteen. Why does she even—”

“Lina, have you booked your flight yet?”

Shawn’s tantrum was cut short when Lina’s father called out to her from just outside the kitchen. He had arrived a bit after her mother and made a beeline for his bathroom after giving his daughter a hug. Fully refreshed and having changed out of his work suit and into his favorite cargo shorts, he walked in with his head down, phone in hand.

Lina could feel Shawn’s eyes boring into her back.

“Uh no– no, I haven’t.”

“Your flight?”

The two spoke at the same time, her voice suddenly nervous and his almost concerned. She didn’t take her eyes off of the sautéing onions and peppers.

“Yeah. LAX. I have an interview.”

Her voice stayed steady, but she let herself sneak a peek over her shoulder. Confusion was clear on Shawn’s face, but the slight tilt to his lip suggested hurt.

“Interview?” was all he managed to stutter out.

“My little Lina is in the final round of interviews for a very prestigious internship,” her father announced, pocketing his phone and crossing the kitchen to kiss her head with a massive grin. He really couldn’t be prouder, but in that moment, Lina found herself almost wishing he cared just a little less. Or at least was quieter about it.

“Oh shit,” Shawn said, his voice much softer than it was mere minutes before when he was talking about his sister. “Congrats, Lina. That’s real big.”

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

Sensing the tension, her mother cleared her throat and gestured to the window that faced the street.

“Looks like your parents are back, mijo. Amelina, why don’t you go say hello and invite them over? You dad can finish up here.”

Rosalia took the spatula and pan from her daughter and shoved them towards her confused husband. Lina nodded, thankful for her mother. She kissed her father’s cheek as a quick way of saying don’t worry, you’re only kind of in trouble before she gestured to the door at Shawn.

“So LA, huh?”

He fought to keep his voice even, walking casually with his hands in his pockets and kicking at rocks as they crossed the street to his house.

“Yeah. Yeah, LA.”

“So would you like… leave UC?”

“Nah, it’s just a one-semester co-op kinda thing. I’d be in LA for the spring taking online classes and working full time, then I go back next fall.”

“Oh okay.”

“Lina!”

Before the front door of the Mendes house was full open, Aaliyah barreled towards Lina.

“I missed you. Don’t leave me again for that long, damn.”

“Missed you too, hun,” Lina responded, finally letting go of Shawn’s little sister. “How is my favorite girl doing? How’d your one-month go?”

“It was so cute, Lina, oh my god. We went to the drive-in and—”

“You what?!” Shawn broke his silence, quickly moving from where he had been watching from the door. The smile he wore watching the reunion fell immediately and was replaced with a scowl. “And you!” he whipped his head towards his best friend. “You knew!”

Lina shrugged. Shawn huffed.

“No respect in this damn house.”

He brushed past his mom, quickly kissing her head before stalking off to the bathroom. Karen threw Aaliyah an inquisitive look as she entered the living room before rolling her eyes at her son’s dramatics. Finally, she made it to Amelina and enveloped her in a hug.

“Welcome home, love.”

______

Evening found the Mendes clan spread out through the Moreno’s living room in a post-dinner laze. Lina’s parents were in deep conversation with Manny while Karen, Lina, and Shawn grilled Aaliyah about her new relationship, but Lina’s attention was admittedly elsewhere. From where she was sitting, her entire left side pressed against Shawn’s right, she could feel his other leg shaking and his fingers picking at a thread in her jeans – an old habit of his that she had grown used to when they were younger but which felt oddly foreign after months apart. Like hers, his attention seemed split as he was only barely participating in the conversation he was so passionate about just hours earlier. While Aaliyah gave a dramatic retelling of her adorably disastrous first date, Lina turned to Shawn.

“You okay?”

As if the string suddenly stung, his movements froze, and he jerked his hand away. He mashed his lips the way he did when he was deciding whether or not to tell the truth.

“Can we— can we go outside for a bit?”

Lina nodded with some concerned hesitation, following as he stood and pulled her with him. No one seemed to notice or care as they made their way out onto the patio swing where he pulled them both down with a huff. They sat quietly, pushing off against the fire pit in front of them to make the seat swing. Amidst the silence, it was like the words had been punched out of him when Shawn finally spoke.

“Why didn’t you tell me about LA?”

“It’s not a sure thing yet,” Lina mumbled. “I didn’t want to cause a fuss.”

“That’s the shit we’re supposed to talk about though! The not-sure-yet things. The ‘maybe’s and the ‘hopefully’s and the ‘I don’t know’s. I mean, fuck, since when do you avoid causing a fuss with me? Since when am I the last to find out?”

Shawn had sprung out of his seat and was pacing in front of her. Everything he hadn’t said since they were in the kitchen together that afternoon came pouring out between short huffing breaths, and Lina didn’t know what to do except sit still and quiet and listen as her best friend told her everything she already knew.

“I had to find out about Andy through my mom. I had no idea you broke up with her until two weeks later, and by then, I felt like an idiot even asking about it.”

“Shawn, I’m sorry.”

“And we said we’d never go longer than three months. We just doubled that and—”

“I know, and I’m really sorry that I couldn’t—”

“I don’t want you to apologize, Lina, goddammit. I get it. Life happens. I just…” His voice caught in his throat. With a sigh, he fell back into the seat beside her with his eyes closed. His voice was softer when he spoke again.

“I feel like I’m losing my best friend.”

As much as she wanted to reassure him, to flick him on the forehead and ask are you stupid?! she knew he was right. She had felt it too, and she didn’t have the will to lie to him and say that she didn’t.

“It’s not…” she paused, gathering her thoughts. “You aren’t losing me. We’ve just drifted, I guess.”

“That’s almost worse. That’s what adults say.”

“I guess that makes us adults now.”

“I don’t wanna drift, though, Lina,” Shawn admitted in a small voice as her reached for her hand. She let him have it on instinct, and he relaxed just a bit.

A moment of thought spent tracing her thumb over his swallow tattoo bred an idea, and the grin that overtook her face had Shawn confused and a little scared.

“Then we won’t.”

______

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just fly, mija?”

“I’m sure. This will be so much better,” Lina told her dad, beaming as she pulled on the straps of her backpack.

“Ready?” Shawn called out to her as he approached from across the street with his own backpack slung over one shoulder.

Between them was the large white van that would be their home for the next several days. Packed with luggage and pillows and blankets to last them until California and painted with phrases like “ROUTE 66 BABY!” and “SUMMER BREAK 2K19” courtesy of Aaliyah and Luis, it was truly an eyesore. And Lina absolutely loved the sight of it.

“Ready!”

______

A/N: i don’t have an update schedule for this, but i hope to stay somewhat regular. feel free to yell at me if i don’t. i also don’t have a taglist yet but if yall would be interested in that just shoot me an ask! hope you liked it and happy new year!

#samis 2k challenge #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes x oc #my writing

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zaymadden-author · 4 years

Text

Written by ZAY MADDEN

“Man, this is not how Saturday nights are supposed to go.” With all the shit going on in the world, I’ve been house-bound for a minute, and at this point I’m all TikTok’d out. A couple of my boys and my cousin Terrell pulled up on me around 8 for a couple rounds of 2K 🎮, but you know how Mississippi weather is. Mother Nature randomly decided to do her dirty work and had them staying later than planned, but once the sky stopped roaring, I sent my boys home. It was time for a night cap.

I trailed them outside to make sure they were all gone, and once the last car looped around my driveway, I could finally sit on my porch and think. I had my D’USSÈ 🥃 in one hand and my phone in another, scrolling through my thread of texts to see which girl I could get to bless my night; it was part of my weekend ritual. I had a rule though: never start at the top because most recent pussy tends to be not as interesting unless she really got that 🍑💦 if you know what I’m saying.

So, last I checked, Keisha wit the plump ass moved to Florida, which is unfortunate for me. She had one hell of a mouth piece in bed but never ran her mouth in the streets. I could respect that and that’s why I keep her on standby.

The next on my list, Monica, was on the classy end of the spectrum, but it was like rolling dice with her ass. Most of the time she waits until 7 am to reply. Her brain was still accustomed to her school schedule and she had a day job too, so I respected that. However, it sucked for me though cuz Monica was bad af from head to toe and really would’ve gave me a night to remember. Shit, I still reminisce about our last rendezvous. She had pretty feet and plump lips that felt like pillows with each kiss. And I know it’s weird, but I think it’s a turn on whenever I see her with those scrubs on. It’s just something about a hard-working black woman. (Damn smh.) I decided not even bother her this late.

So I kept scrolling up right, slowly feeling my luck build up, when my phone all of a sudden ding’d. My heart started thumping against my rib cage, and the corners of my mouth shot up. I couldn’t wait to see who this could be.

(I turn my notification banners off for good reason.)

Could it be Ashley? (The one that stayed wayyy out in Clinton). She usually texts when she wants some dick but it takes her forever to get to my place in Madison.

I put my search on pause and immediately made my way to the top to see who it could be. And would you believe it? “She always does this shit bruh. Like fr!”

Lo and fucking behold:

[MOM: Can you take your grandma to the store in the morning? I forgot to tell you earlier. Phone died.]

MAN 😤!! I almost summoned the spirit of Brady and launched $999 worth of iPhone in the damn pond. It’s 12:02 at night. She could’ve just waited until daylight resumed before bothering me with this!

I know that’s my heart and soul, but grandma is not the type of woman I want on my mind right now. But I replied “ok” to avoid any further communication at this hour.

I kept scrolling through my digital black book and I contemplated, but immediately dismissed, the idea of calling Alisha over. She said I be hurting her so she only wanna do oral. “Naw. I’ll pass. I’m good on that tonight.” Nobody else seemed worthy of hitting up at the time, at least this time of night, so I head inside. I locked the door behind me and made my way to the bathroom to get ready for bed. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I spritzed a little water on my head and brushed my waves into submission before securing it with my DuRag. Staring at this thick-browed, handsome, brown skinned fellow in the mirror, I began to question whether I still had it. “I am only 23 so that’s nowhere near the ‘falling off’ age,” I say to myself. I guess with me working day and night, I didn’t have time to pull ‘em like I used to.

So, I went and plopped on my bed, face towards the ceiling, contemplating my future, when I heard the sound of rocks sloshing under tires. The sound slowly magnified, and to myself I’m thinking that maybe one of my homeboys forgot something in my house. A barcode-like shadow cast on my wall as the luminance of headlights beamed through my blinds. I almost walked to the door empty handed, but the detective Stabler in me wasn’t taking any chances. So, I grabbed my piece in my night stand and asserted my second amendment rights. Tip-toe after tip-toe I was almost to the door when I heard the engine stop. A few seconds later there was this rhythmic chiming noise echoing through the walls. I crept to the front window stealthily, and peeked out the blinds. I could recognize the vehicle but I had to be sure it was who I thought it was, so I flicked on the second outdoor light.

All I saw was curly tresses flowing through the window of a pink Lexus.

“Aaliyah?” ..... “but how did she?”

With a mixture of anxiety and excitement, I snatched open the front door 🚪 to greet her. And when I saw her strut up the walkway with a touch of flair, a second emotion arose: confusion. How did she know I was alone? How did she know there wasn’t another girl here? It’s been two years and I still can’t figure out how this girl knows me so well and I think that’s why she intrigued me so much. It also scared me a little bit too. I usually don’t let a girl come over unannounced.

She would’ve been the first girl I tried to text, but last I checked she was in New York on business.

I shoot commercials for a living and I did one for her boutique. That’s how we came across each other.

But she’s here now so who cares that she popped up. (Maybe that’s just my dick talking 🤷🏾‍♂️... idk)

She had two Raising Cane’s bags, which I’m guessing that, during this pandemic, was the only thing she could come across at this time a night. Everything else was closed, even Taco Bell.

She let out a soft “Hey” as she bat her lashes and I quickly shut the gap in my mouth.

“What’s up?” I then responded.

And for a moment our eyes did a tango before she broke the silence.

“Can I come in? It’s kinda hot out here. ”

[And she wasn’t lying about that.]

We suddenly smiled at each other (each clipped with a note of sensuality), and with a nonverbal response, I helped her carry the drinks in and held open the door, catching a strange whiff of fried chicken and some floral fragrance as she walked by. I sucked my bottom lip as she sashayed towards my couch; those long legs accented by her gold trimmed pumps.

With a quick, smooth swivel of her body, she had positioned herself towards me, carrying a whole conversation with her eyes.

After locking my door I suddenly needed to adjust my boxer briefs. Gazing at those smooth brown legs made me graduate from flaccid to half chub, but my need to feast was urgent. My stomach was growling like a mf.

So I sit down to eat, right. And we get to chatting about her trip to NY ✈️ and how she’s been so stressed out with trying to open up a store out there. The whole time she’s going on and on about her tired body and her hectic work schedule, I’m reading in between the lines. She didn’t come here looking like that just to talk about work.

Aaliyah has never been one to admit what she wants from me, she just drops hints and expects you to go fishing for answers.

After smashing half my chicken box though, she got up like she had no time to waste. With a flick of her ankles she had both shoes flying across the floor. She took one last glance at me before leading the way to my bedroom, first slipping her skirt off in the living room and her shirt slowly draped from her body as she made her way down the hall. To keep up the tempo, I removed whatever she did, and by the time we made it to my room it was nothing but birthday suits.

I was ready for penetration at the door, but baby girl had other plans. She made me sit on the love seat by my window as she put on a show for me. It was an immediate game of teasing and temptation as she watched me slowly stroke my dick to every scene of her performance. First it was the leg play, then the breast tease, and then my favorite of all... something she knows gets me hard as steel.... the pussy play.

I love it when she bends open her thighs and plays with the most anticipated part of her body. Her smooth, brown sugar skin and nude polished nails drew an excellent contrast to that sweet, bright pink center. And she knew I wanted it too. She also knows how much I brag about how tight she is, so she takes her two fingers and spreads it open in full view for me. It was one thing for me to speculate, but when she slid one finger in and out for me, it was proof enough that her coochie still had that snap-back action.

I couldn’t take it anymore. With my dick now towering from my hand, I made my way over to her. She was now in submission as I asserted myself over her, so I pulled her to the the edge of the bed to get ready for my part. I looked down at myself, the tip of my dick head now glistening with anticipation, and said to her “I want you.”

And in the blink of an eye I was down on my knees and I had her hips cradled in my arms; my tongue digging into the flesh of her thigh, roughly gasping for air as I was too focused to remember breathing. With a slow dance of kissing and tongue-groping, I lead a trail up and down her thighs until I heard her say, “OMG.... Sean!”

I swear I felt a drop of pre-cum stream down to my ankle as I made my way to her hot zone 👅 . Like a rollercoaster, I had my tongue going round and round, remembering all the pressure points that made her thrust her pelvis into my face. I was in full control now, and no matter how hard she gripped the sheets, there was no escaping my vice grip.

My tongue was putting in overtime, and right before my clock struck 1:00 🕐 , I felt her first nut. We both laughed (our goofy asses) to try and cut down on all that sexual tension.

I reared my head to get a good look at her sex face, my goatee now dripping in her juices, and I gave her a look that let her know I was ready for that action. I sprinted like hell to my night stand to grab me a “rain coat,” acting as if my dinner was about to get cold or something.

I slid that mf on so quick. I’d been waiting for this all night. Pussy in my mouth was one thing, but BEING in it... whew 😌.

I looked at her again before I engaged in our post-foreplay session. I already had my 🍆💦 on the edge ready for the deep dive. We shared a gaze as I slowly began to make my way inside. She had that “keep going” look on her face, but it was only so long that she could keep her composure. After the head made its way in, baby girl’s eyes began to sync with my slow strokes. They rolled as my hips began to roll, and before she knew it, her neck gave out and she rested her head. I finessed my hips into a slow roll as I reached down and sucked on her neck. Her walls began to relax as her pussy gradually began to invite me in. I kept piping her down, constantly going deeper until her belly felt full. And by then, I knew I had her.

I secured her backside with my arms, careful not to smother her precious body, as she demanded I up the pace. To keep up the demand, I got more comfortable on the bed before I shifted into overdrive. “Nice Sean” was gone and “ZADDY Sean” was on the scene.

I was working that pussy like I was running track, and before long, she had thought twice about what she asked for. She thought she was slick, inching her body away like I didn’t notice. But guess what, I inched right along with her ass. She had a long ways to go on my California King before she could escape this dick.

At this point, her facial expressions were no longer inaudible. She was squeezing out “oooo’s” and “ahhhhh’s” between every attempt to catch her breath.

“Wait baby... ooooooooo wait.” She pleaded, but mercy was no longer on the table. I kept going until her juices soaked my inner thigh.

“OMG Sean!” She utters the mantra again. But this time I give in to her cries. Hell, I needed to catch my breath too. Shit! 🥵

I rolled over for a brief intermission, slowly creeping my way to the top of the bed near my pillow. She followed. We rested for a good little minute, kissing on each other as the clock kept ticking, but I was mentally preparing for the second round. It was late at night so I had only about two good positions left in me.

She took a bathroom break before we resumed.

I had decided it was her turn, so I stayed where I was and used my finger to signal her to come near when she walked back in the room. So, she took a domineering stance right before she climbed into bed and cat walked towards me. Titties just bouncing everywhere. Curls flowing effortlessly in the breeze of my ceiling fan. She knew what she was doing and she got my lil man right back up. ☝🏾

She leaned towards me for a kiss as she saddled my waist, slow grinding to drum up more anticipation. I slapped my meat against her ass cuz I wanted her to stop playing these games. Hell, my dick was damn near shivering in the wind now.

But she took the hint and began to guide it back in. This time I rolled MY eyes as her warm goodies began to cradle me inside. She placed her hands on my chest and made her first move upward, then she put her hips in reverse. She put this same two-step on repeat, bouncing up and down on my shit, going all the way to the base. I’m talking balls deep. With this kinda grip, my dick was on the verge of spittin’ already, but I held back my nut. “This ain’t how I wanna to go out”

I was diggin’ this lil rodeo vibe she had going on, but the more her pussy lips clapped down on me, the more I started edging. I let her take control for a minute, but that minute quickly turned into a second as her hip grinding began to slow down. The batteries in that energizer bunny were at 20%... but thats what Zaddy Sean is here for. 😏

Right as she was on her way up, I stopped her and I kept her right in that position, pounding that 🎂 until all I heard was Mac n cheese stirring.

But shit, at this point it was time to make that Mac n cheese creamy. I got prepared for the finale as we moved into sex position #95.

I had her face on the pillow and I made her spread them cheeks before I dove in back. And for some reason, this position always gets me. Idk if it’s the fluffiness of the ass that gets my rocks off or the fact that the thigh clenching makes everything feel tighter. Who knows. But I didn’t have time to contemplate that.

With a few more strokes I was about to fuckin explode. I grabbed her extra tight, squeezing them titties and pushing extra deep until her moans went from tenor to soprano.

“Only a few more seconds baby,” I said in my head.. “just a few more seconds.”

I put a flex in my hips when I felt that good moment coming, and on my last stroke of edging, when I hit her spot, she squeezed her cheeks extra tight... and that was the extra umph that I needed to let loose.

I wanted to paint her back 💦 but the hooded Kermit in me said “naw, leave that shit in big dawg.” 😏

So, I hit my last pumps like a New Years countdown. 5... 4... 3.... 2... making sure my last hit was the strongest. I held it there as my body spasmed and my perineum pulsated, leaving me temporarily paralytic.

Cuz that’s what good pussy will do to ya.

I took a second to savor the moment because my horny-ness hadn’t completely subsided yet. By the time I was ready to pull out, my jimmy was slowly becoming soft & squishy again.

With the head still sensitive, I slowly abort, careful to keep the condom in tact. She’s about as sleepy as I am now, and as I withdrew, she stole a peek of me staring at all the nut weighing down the tip of my condom.

It was mutually understood that we were both tapping out, but we mustered up enough energy to quickly shower up. The whole time in the shower I’m still mesmerized by her beauty, all horny-ness aside.

We towel off in about ten minutes and return to the room before I quickly throw some fresh sheets on my bed.

She basically invited herself to spend the night and who was I to say “no” to her. Cute ass. She knew she was my Achilles heel. So, as we lay in our resting position before dozing off, the question circled back around in my head...

How the hell did she know I was alone? 🤔

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of-hell-and-hyacinths · 5 years

Text

so this is for @skate-fast-eat-grass and anybody interested in the dysfunctional gays. this is going to be pt 1, rhys is going to be meeting miranda and malcolm in pt 2 (the ending is rushed i’m so sorry)

Rhys Winters wakes up in a cold sweat, but for a horrifying second he thinks it may be a pool of his own blood.

Everything is bright, it’s burning, he doesn’t know where up is and down is, he doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know how to breathe. He doesn’t know how to think.

When his breathing steadies and the world stops spinning, he looks down. No blood. Not his blood. But he’s certain he saw blood just a second ago—

And the snapshot of Daniel and dad practically bathing in it flashes brightly in his brain, and his stomach clenches with terror. He wants to throw up. He can’t bring himself to open his mouth.

Daniel and dad, Daniel and dad, where are they?

At a further look, Rhys seems to be in a medical clinic. He opens his mouth to yell for his family, but no words are enough, and his brain hurts too hard to produce anything. So he just makes a strangled gasping noise.

“Oh, hey,” says a soft voice from across the room. It comes from a boy about his age who looks like his hair is threaded from pure gold, and his eyes mirror the sky outside.

Rhys gulps and finally says, “My — Daniel and dad? Where are they?”

A second ago, the boy looked like sunshine. Now his face falls, sympathy spreading across his features. Rhys feels his heart sink.

“They’re alive, right?” he rasps.

And from the way the blonde boy starts walking towards him, sitting on the edge of his bed, he already knows the answer.

The boy leans forward to pat his shoulder gently. Rhys can’t see his face properly, or anything properly for that matter, because now the world is blurry. Rhys is filled with the urge to scream at the top of his lungs, but his throat is too thick.

“I’m so sorry,” blonde boy mutters, shuffling around to offer a tissue. Rhys takes it, wiping at the tears trickling down his cheeks. No use; more fall down.

There’s silence for a little while. Nobody speaks, and there’s no sound except for Rhys’s sniffling. His stomach feels hollow, but everything else of stone.

“I’m Will,” says the boy when Rhys wipes at his face again. “Want to tell me your name?”

“Rhys.” (He can’t bring himself to say anymore.)

Will nods. “I like that name. How old are you?”

For a second, Rhys tries not to think about how old Daniel never will be. Eighteen was the very oldest he’d ever reach. “Twelve,” he mutters, shaking those thoughts out of his head.

“Me too!” Will brightens. “You know, I have a sister and she’s our age. She’s really good at cheering people up.”

Rhys doesn’t know what to say, nor does he want to say anything, so he lets Will finish.

“I think it would be good for you to meet her. Make a friend, y’know?”

Talking to people doesn’t seem like it would cheer him up. But Rhys doesn’t want to be alone, and when he’s not completely miserable he needs friends. So he nods weakly, but does nothing more.

Something flashes in Will’s eyes. “Come on,” he says nervously, “we’ll get you some camp clothes. And … there’s a couple things to explain.”

————————————

“When will I be claimed again?”

Will attempts to not look dismayed. “Well, we don’t know exactly. But it’ll happen soon, don’t worry!”

Rhys feels vaguely suspicious of that statement, but he can’t gather the energy to probe any further. Camp Half-Blood is strange and full of wonders, he observes as Will takes him around, and it’s going to be his home. Permanently. Or at least for a very, very long time. And he’s never had a home that’s lasted for more than a few years. (How should he feel about that? Dad and Daniel would laugh.)

In the distance, he can make out the figures of a boy and a girl in an archery range. The height difference is very noticeable; the girl is basically a midget. Also, she has cool hair. Half-shaved, long and dark brown.

They near closer to the archers, and from what Rhys can see, both of them are incredible shots.

“Hey, Bella,” Will says cheerfully. “New camper over here.”

The girl with cool hair — Bella — spins around, a hand on her quiver. “Hey!” she greets. Will beckons her over and pulls her aside for a minute.

Rhys wanders towards the boy, who’s notching an arrow but quite obviously listening to Will and Bella’s conversation. He can’t see the boy’s face from behind him, and he’s content to watch him shoot. Plus, it filters out the conversation. Rhys knows what they’re saying.

Will mutters something along the lines of “his mortal family just died, be easy on him” or whatever. Rhys’s eyes burn. He catches Bella shoot him a pitying glance, and avert her eyes just as quickly.

Suddenly the boy lowers his bow and turns towards Rhys — and maybe it’s just Rhys’s brain being weird, but he’s abnormally pretty. Dark hair, light brown skin, freckles, and a little smirk. His face is sculpted like marble. His eyes flicker around like everything seems funny, like he’s in on a joke that nobody else is.

“Cat got your tongue?” the boy says lightly. His voice is deep and rich as dark chocolate.

“Uh,” Rhys says eloquently, brain fizzling out.

The boy’s brown eyes sparkle, and he extends a hand. “I’m Adrien Liou.”

“Rhys Winters,” Rhys replies, shaking Adrien’s hand which is colder than it should be.

Then Bella barges in, shoving Adrien aside. “Move over,” she complains.

“I am.”

“Your ego takes up too much space,” she teases.

Adrien’s face falls back into a smirk again. “Says you.”

Side by side, Bella and Adrien could almost be mistaken for twins. They speak the same way, with slang and deep voices and a tone like it’s all just fun and games to them. Rhys thinks he likes it.

“So, Rhys,” Bella says, scrambling for small talk and notching an arrow, “are you undetermined?”

“Uh … undetermined?”

Bella opens her mouth to explain, but Adrien cuts her off.

“Bro, what is up with your voice?” he exclaims, eyes wide.

For a second, Rhys’s mind goes blank for the umpteenth time that day. Then it strikes him that he is in America, where people actually pronounce their r’s and say their a’s a little differently.

“It’s just an accent,” he dismisses. “I wasn’t born in America.”

Adrien nods wisely. “Antarctican?”

Rhys splutters. “What?”

“Antarctica!” Adrien repeats. “Yeah, man, you kind of look like a polar bear.” He pokes at Rhys’s curly mop of pale-blonde hair.

To Rhys’s further exasperation, Bella lowers her bow and scans him thoughtfully. “He actually does,” she murmurs.

“Uh.” Rhys doesn’t know what to say. He just lost Dad and Daniel, and now he has to deal with this? He wonders if they would mind so terribly if he started crying out of pure exhaustion. “I’m from Australia, actually.”

Adrien’s eyebrows furrow together. It might be slightly attractive. “What’s that? Do they have polar bears there?”

“Nah,” Bella says, “bad heat, kangaroos, vegemite.”

“Something like that,” Rhys agrees.

Again, Bella jumps to change the subject. “How old are you, Mr. Kangaroos and Vegemite?”

Daniel will never be any older than eighteen, the voice at the back of his head sing-songs.

Shut up, Rhys says back. Dad would never let him say shut up. Especially not to Daniel, but Daniel isn’t h

Shut up.

Bella and Adrien are looking at him expectantly, and Rhys realises he must’ve zoned out for a second.

“Sorry,” he says awkwardly, “I’m twelve.”

“Lucky,” Bella grumbles. “I’m turning twelve in August.”

Adrien grins like the cat with the cream. “Ha! Mine’s in July.”

Bella eyes him like whatever force that was repressing her from shooting her arrow at Adrien’s face is melting away slowly.

She doesn’t reply, and silence with Adrien and Bella feels awkward. Wrong. Unnatural. See, they never stop talking.

A question pops into Rhys’s mind. “Do the two of you know who your … gods are?”

“Godly parents,” Bella corrects. “Yeah. My dad is Apollo. God of the sun, music, poetry, archery, healing, maybe a couple billion other things.”

“And my mom is Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty,” Adrien adds. “You can tell because I’m beautiful.”

Yes, he is, Rhys’s brain says.

Shut up, his brain says again. Because he is not gay, thank you very much. He thinks back to the little twirl in his tummy that came whenever he saw Aaliyah Ryan with the brown hair and apple-green eyes every day for three years at primary school. It reassures him. He thinks back to watching cartoons in the cinema with Daniel, and the pretty cartoon girls on the big screen that he would marry in a heartbeat.

Then why does he have that same fizzy, exhilarating feeling at the bottom of his stomach and the middle of his chest and the back of his brain whenever he looks at Adrien? Adrien isn’t a girl. He doesn’t have delicate features or a high, silky voice, or long, shiny hair. He’s nothing like a girl. But for some reason Rhys still feels the same way he does around pretty girls around this one pretty boy.

Rhys isn’t gay. Adrien is just extremely gorgeous. That’s all.

“Cool,” Rhys says, shaking away his thoughts.

He stays there at the archery range for maybe another half-hour, listening to Adrien and Bella’s pointless banter. They never stop talking, and it’s always talking about stupid things. It’s slightly exhausting.

Will arrives with an apologetic smile midway through a heated argument about High School musical. Rhys has never been so relieved in his life. It’s not that he doesn’t like Adrien and Bella — he does. But being around them in such a miserable state is like being around two hyperactive dogs while trying to relax at a park.

“So, how’d it go?” Will asks. The sun is starting to set, throwing streaks of gold across a pink and blue sky. It’s cooler now, and Rhys can hardly believe how long this day has been.

“They’re, uh.” Rhys struggles for adequate words. “... interesting.”

#if this is ooc i’m sorry #I Tried #pt 2 next #rhys winters #adrien liou #bella swarchovski

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thisisdopecom-blog · 7 years

Photo

THIS IS DOPE x CERTIFIEDxAFROPUNK 2017

CERTIFIED AND THREAD SHOP TEAM UP WITH HIP-HOP SOUL PRODUCER ADRIAN YOUNGE FOR A UNIQUE POP-UP TRUCK EXPERIENCE AT AFROPUNK BROOKLYN

Global Style Gypsy Tapped To Curate Eclectic One-Of-A-Kind Selection Of Jewelry, Fashion & Sneakers For Festival Goers On August 26 & 27

New York, NY - Afropunk Brooklyn festival-goers will have a unique on-site opportunity to experience, purchase and enjoy music and artist merchandise at a CERTIFIED/THREAD SHOP/RCA branded truck at this year’s festival on August 26th and August 27th. Located in the “Bites & Beats” section of the festival,

Sony Music’s CERTIFIED will be selling limited quantities of top R&B and Afropunk-friendly vinyl titles while THREAD SHOP will sell limited quantities of artist merchandise including products from A Tribe Called Quest and NAS and more. A concierge service will be provided for consumers to pick up their purchases as they leave the festival.

Fans who purchase CERTIFIED or THREADSHOP products will receive a discount on starter Victrola ® Bluetooth turntables. Additionally, AfroPunk Brooklyn artists including Leikeli47 and more will surprise fans by popping up at the pop-up truck on Saturday and Sunday for fan photos and meet & greets.

CERTIFIED has tapped hip-hop soul producer Adrian Younge to be the music curator for the pop-up truck. Fans who come on board the vehicle will have the opportunity to experience Younge’s analog DJ style when he does two 40-minute sets on Saturday, August 26th from the truck. Fans will be able to access this via silent headsets distributed from the truck.

Adrian Younge, a self-taught musician, composer, arranger, and producer who has worked with a range of artists including Ghostface Killah, Raphael Saadiq, Kendrick Lamar and A Tribe Called Quest’s Ali Shaheed Muhammad - with whom he teamed up with to do the original score for the Netflix hit, Luke Cage. The LA-based Younge owns a vinyl store/barbershop hybrid called Artform Studio and will curate the music for the CERTIFIED pop-up at Afropunk.

Global Style Gypsy’s Latisha Daring will curate the truck’s interior design and this year’s fashion collection which will feature some exclusive and one-of-a-kind products such as Printed Pattern People’s sneakers (http://www.printedpatternpeople.com), the Sheila Gray Collection jewelry (https://sheila-gray-collection.myshopify.com) and Global Style Gypsy jackets, apparel, and accessories procured from global travels (http://www.globalstylegypsy.com).

The entire mobile experience is designed to appeal to the Afropunk Brooklyn attendee.

The activation will be produced by This is Dope! (@newdopeness) an agency that specializes in providing mobile marketing solutions and producing direct-to-consumer pop-up activations for brands in major U.S. cities at music festivals, college tours, stand-alone and tent-pole events.

* * *

For More Information Contact:

Shirronda Sweet

917-627-9234

[email protected]

Gabby Gibb

212-833-4597

[email protected]

For Thread Shop Inquiries Contact:

Carleen Donovan

212-677-0014

[email protected]

ABOUT CERTIFIED

Certified is a Hip-Hop and R&B initiative via Sony Music celebrating iconic artists such as Maxwell, Wu-Tang Clan, Nas, UGK, OutKast, Aaliyah and many more. Certified’s mission is to celebrate the undisputed classics of Hip-Hop and R&B in an effort to preserve the culture.

ABOUT THREAD SHOP 

The Thread Shop, a visionary licensing and merchandising agency, is bringing a revolutionary new perspective to pop culture branding and marketing through a variety of artist-specific product lines and innovative points-of-sale. From online direct-to-consumer (D2C) sites offering limited edition customized merchandise to full-scale on tour merchandising, to artists appearing live at pop-up real life retail stores, Thread Shop is committed to providing the ultimate shopping experience–and the highest quality products–for millennials, music fans and devotees of popular culture. Recently featured in The New York Times, click HERE to view. The company works with a variety of artists and brands to create beautiful, fashionable and functional new merchandise as well as products designed to enhance every lifestyle. With a focus on quality and design, Thread Shop manufactures and markets products inspired directly from the vision and aesthetic of the artist. Artists they’ve worked with include A Tribe Called Quest, Common, Bob Dylan, A$AP Rocky, A$AP Ferg, Johnny Cash’s Estate and several others.

ABOUT GLOBAL STYLE GYPSY/LATISHA DARING

Global Style Gypsy is inspired by artisanal Style, Culture, and Art.  By exploring and exposing the stories of artists and creators globally we are able to cultivate artisan relationships, and collect and curate live retail activations.  

With an authentic love for Travel, Fashion, Art, and Music the decision to mesh a unique hybrid with a Global spin became the new retail platform of Global Style Gypsy. After cultivating the concept for over five years and having traveled to over 23 countries on five continents the goal was to impact the lives of others through Global Style and Cultural Experiences. Founder Latisha Daring has been a trailblazer for over 25 Years and consistently has launched successful national and international projects through global relationships – developing a very specific niche in curation and storytelling. 

#afropunk #summer17 #certifiedxafropunk #globalstylegypsy #printedpatternpeople #brownstonecandles #sheilagraycollection #thisisdope #thisisdopetruck

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