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#and merry monday to those who don't

everything-on-red · 4 months

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okay, you said i should start posting poetry, it's your funeral.

in honor of the day, here's something i wrote a little while ago. full... thing?... under cut.

[Billboard Jesus: a prose poem]

Impure thoughts?

Billboard Jesus can cut you loose. He ties bodies to bedframes, lets out devils from details. He takes his prey in paralysis, teases torpid terror.

Billboard Jesus can lend a helping hand. Pit-flesh in his palms, he pops hips like he’s breaking bread. Slides on top, doesn't stop, and kneads you like he’s making bread.

Billboard Jesus spits fish like a mongrel. Bends down and swims in a half-rotten pub meal. Flayed like old blood, he lets it float before the flood, laps it like a dog. In the dark of a port town, back bent on dirty bed, blond-eyed sailors, krill and saline, basted blue with grime. Turns water into white wine.

Billboard Jesus pops champagne one bubble at a time, drops the cork in the waiting mouths of the poor, like a lure on a line. They gasp and wiggle like fish flexing on the white rind of a dark sea. See the bright white wine that pours on brackish basement water. He’s a walker, and he walks on his knees. Billboard Jesus can cut you free.

Billboard Jesus wants you to have a baby. He wants you in a long white dress and a gold ring. He wants you in the back of the car, at the front of the aisle, at the top of his lungs, in the bottom of the bed. He sees your weakness and your pain and gives you what you need.

Billboard Jesus is everything that you want him to be.

He is your father, home after a long day of work. He sweeps you up on his knee and gives you a present--a model train. It was his Christmas bonus money.

He is your husband, penetrating your new flesh. Together, alone, long ago, champagne drunk and scared.

He is your son, rearing back with the chainsaw, painting you in blood, cleaving through your wrist to your head. As if he hadn’t been here fifteen years earlier. Sucking at your breast like a leech on wet wood.

Wet wood is shored up from the quagmire. Down there, men and women sleep for generations. Bogs where bodies curl like dry leaves as tendons seal, dead elastic, tighten and snap. They will live forever, down in the bog.

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photo credit to the worship tabernacle of shallcross, south africa.

#thanks for reading #merry christmas #to all that celebrate #and to those who don't #happy garfield monday #poetry #prose poetry #original poetry #billboard jesus

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

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I'm just gonna go ahead and give a blanket ruling that you are NTA for being disappointed at what you got for Christmas if you don't say or do anything about it. If it caused you to react in a way that might have been assholish, feel free to seek a further ruling in the askbox! Merry Christmas to those celebrating, Joyous Monday to those who aren't, be safe and well and drive safe on the way home from the relatives'!

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megamindsecretlair · 4 months

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The King and I, Part 3

Pairing: King Ghezo x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT AND ANGST. Don't say I ain't warn ya. Mentions of violence, forceful touching. Virginity loss. PIV, Oral (fem receiving) , all consensual. Doesn't follow canon of the movie.

Summary: You continue to enjoy your burgeoning life with the King. Though there is nothing to do and you fear that your life will revolve around him and him only. He shows you more beautiful sights and you decide to take the relationship to the next level.

Word Count: 8,016k

A/N: I don't know what happened. Forgive me! I did not intend for this to be so long, but I turned my mind off and let the story take me where it would. If you need a wind down from Christmas festivities, here ya go! Merry Christmas my lovelies. Or Happy Monday to those who don't celebrate. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @gg-trini @eggnox @naj-ay444 @sheepywritesfics @westside-rot @twocentuar @pinkpantheris @tchallasbabymama @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @abeautifulmindexposed @neawarren @monaeesstuff @blackerthings @melaninpov @1-800anklebully @mogul93 @softimgyu @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @softscorpio17 @theunsweetenedtruth

You liked kissing. You really liked kissing. You had no love for your father, but you could thank him for keeping you from this experience until your marriage. You liked closing your eyes and feeling the King’s lips against yours.

The King stole kisses whenever he could. Before and after meetings. During meals. You felt silly kissing him in front of his first wife but she only smiled or directed her attention elsewhere. You wondered if she was capable of speaking. You knew nothing about her and she offered precious little.

The King would settle your thoughts of her by kissing your worries away. His kisses always started soft as a dove’s wing. He would look at you, trace your face with his fingers, and then pull you closer. His lips would press against yours. The first joining was your favorite. When he would linger before going deeper, spearing his tongue between your lips and exploring your mouth.

Then the kiss would light a fire inside you, deep down in your core. Where it felt like you would burn from the inside out. Burn with need. That need would drive you insane but you were always interrupted before things went further. A eunuch would come to collect the King or Nanisca would need his attention or there was some council member who needed to speak with him and they would take him away from you.

One of his eunuchs came up to him now, spoke in his ear. “Already?” The King asked. The eunuch nodded. The King frowned but nodded.

He promised to see you later, but not before one last kiss. He traced your lips with his thumb, looked at your lips as if he were reluctant to leave, and then gave you that smile that never failed to make your knees weak.

Left to your own devices, there wasn’t much for you to do. You did not have babies yet so there was no reason to visit the nursery. The first wife spent most of her time there with her babies. Sometimes you’d catch them walking around the palace garden.

His sons were beautiful. They looked like they would grow big and strong like him. The lines of succession weren’t always so cut and dry. The oldest wasn’t necessarily the heir but you could see that little boy taking over for his father.

All you had was your imagination to keep you company. This afternoon, there was no meeting to attend. So you wandered around the palace with a routine you set for yourself.

You started off wandering towards the training field. The Agojie were intimidating. Sometimes you watched them through the windows. Watched them train and imagined living amongst them. In another life, perhaps you were braver. Tougher. Perhaps you would have been able to stand up to your father sooner.

Growing up in the village, you had heard plenty of vile things said about the Agojie. Old men would lament about a woman’s place and how it was not to wield swords and protect the village. Bitter women would gossip about the mannish Agojie who could not find husbands and now never would.

You admired them from the first moment you heard about them. Fierce women who were strong like men, pretty, and bonded in sisterhood. You always wanted a sister. You wanted the bonds that others seemed to enjoy. Even when sisters bickered and fought, it was out of love.

You were a lonely child. With nothing but your mother and father for company, you learned to escape away in your head. Where you had a house full of beautiful kids, a loving husband who never raised a hand to you in anger, and a life spent laughing too much and drinking too much.

What you never truly imagined though, was life beyond the wedding part. In your many musings, the wedding was part of it. You weren’t picky one way or another about what you would wear, what the feast would look like, what the flowers would be. But you knew your mother would help make it a special day, no matter how much your father would protest about every little detail.

Beyond that…you had no idea what your marriage would look like. The men your father paraded in front of you were too old, too skinny, too ugly, too mean, too…gross. The way they would look at you still made you shudder in revulsion. You could not see a life with them.

You never in your wildest imaginings thought you’d be married to the king. Not only married to the king, but kissing the king. And liking to kiss the king. You laid awake all night thinking about his kisses. His muscles. His chest. What he would look like naked.

You ducked your head and looked around you, at the empty hallway as if your thoughts were projected onto the walls. You had never seen a man naked. Had never cared to. But the more time you spent with the King, the more you found yourself wanting to. Wanting something and having the means to get it were alien concepts to you.

You were forced to sift through your emotions and thoughts as you walked the halls every day. The King was not evil. He was a man with a heavy burden and sometimes had to make decisions that seemed cruel. Kings in the past dealt with hardships, but considering the unprecedented attack across the lands, it was a wonder the King did half as good a job as he did.

Your wanderings took you to the palace gardens anyway. You walked the paths, admiring the rich reds, purples, and pinks of the flowers growing there and lovingly tended to by palace servants. Trees stretched to the sky. You sat on a patch of grass, careful to avoid any potential wet spots.

You laid back so that the sky was completely open to you. It truly amazed you that you were…free to do this. To do nothing. No one demanded anything from you. No one made you speak when you didn’t want to. No one talked bad about you to your face as if you weren’t standing right there.

And yet…you were inexplicably still lonely. There was no one to really talk to besides your servant but her job was to talk to you. The first wife was content to live in her own little bubble and you were content to let her. The last thing you would do was to disturb her peace when precious few women got that in life. You could talk to the King and he was a remarkable conversationalist, but he was still a man.

Your thoughts turned once more to the King. Lately, you thought of him more and more. Not only did he make you laugh, he also made you giddy. He made you think and challenge your thoughts. And you found yourself watching him, unable to tear your eyes away. His clothes were always finely tailored. His hair perfectly coiled and styled atop his head. His strong jaw, wide smile.

What would it feel like if he were on top of you? If he peeled your dress off? If his fingers gripped your thighs…

“What are you thinking about so hard?”

You gasped and sat up in a panic. Your head smacked into something hard and you yelped in pain. The King knelt down, cooing at you.

“I am sorry, my Queen. Surely you will kill me for this,” he said. He prodded at your forehead. You hissed and jerked away from him. He sighed and planted a tender kiss to the spot.

“The day is still young, my King,” you said but there was no real heat. You smiled at him and he smiled back.

“I am spared for the moment, then,” he said.

You fixed your crimson red robes and willed your heart to stop thundering in your chest. He could not read your thoughts and you hoped that your face did not betray you. Your hands shook at getting caught thinking something so naughty. The King has done nothing but made you feel safe and heard. But how did you let him know that you wanted to try?

“You did not answer my question. You looked deep in thought and I was jealous your attention was elsewhere,” he said.

You giggled and his smile grew wider. “How can you possibly be jealous of my thoughts?”

“They get to know what you’re thinking and I do not,” he said.

You didn’t want to lie but you also didn’t want to tell him what you were thinking. You raised such a huge fuss about him being in your room on your wedding night, you feared that if he knew he’d take you to bed right this instant. The thought both thrilled you and terrified you.

You drew your knees to yourself, as far as you were able with your tummy in the way, and bit your lip.

“If you must know, I was thinking about you.” You peeked at him and he tilted his head.

“Now you must really tell me what you were thinking. Your king demands it of you,” he said with a grin.

You giggled and shook your head. “And give up my secrets so easily? You must earn them, husband,” you said.

Surprise made his entire face open up. It was the first time you had called him such and by the look on his face, he noticed too. “How may I earn them, wife?” His voice grew deeper. It made your belly do a funny flip.

“I’m sure you can think of something, husband,” you said. This was as far as your bravery allowed you to go. You wished you were more bold. That you could rip off his gold robes and taste his skin. That his hands would roam your body in previously forbidden places and douse this inferno in your veins.

King Ghezo smiled and leaned closer, planting a kiss high on your cheek, near your ear. “I’m sure I can think of something, wife.” Shivers wracked through your body. “Come. I wish to show you something.”

He stood up and held out his hands. You took his and he helped you stand. You dusted your robes and made sure it was still secure around your body. Then, he took your hand and led you out of the palace gardens.

He asked about your day while he pulled you through the palace. There was nothing remarkable about it but he wanted to hear every bit of it. He thought your fascination with the Agojie was adorable. He told you that he liked how animated you were when you spoke about them.

“Should I be worried that you are getting ideas from my Agojie on how to kill me?” He asked.

You shrugged. “I deserve some credit. I would not choose something so obvious,” you said and smiled.

“No, you would not. I will figure it out,” he said. You giggled as you emerged on the other end of the palace, towards the path that led you to “your spot”. He had shared the cliffside view with you many times by now but it was always in the morning or day time.

The sun was setting, the giant resting its eye now as it descended in the horizon. But it was like it couldn’t resist one last peak at the world before it yielded the sky to the moon. You looked overhead. The dark purples and oranges were mixing and stars were starting to poke through.

King Ghezo tugged you to your spot and you thought he wanted to look at the sunset. Instead, he looked back to make sure there were no guards or servants nearby. Then, he moved a heavy branch out of the way revealing a sloping path downward.

“What is this?” You asked.

“Do you trust me, wife?” The King asked.

You stared at his open face. He’s had plenty of chances to kill you by now. In fact, you stopped carrying your knife and finally returned it to the kitchen. You were not in danger of that from him. He had been nothing but kind. If he truly were cruel, he would have shown his true colors by now.

So…yes. You nodded your head. “I trust you,” you said.

The King grinned and squeezed your hand. Then, he descended down the slope telling you to step where he steps. And if there was an area you were concerned about, to let him know. You followed behind him with the darkening sky to your right. It took your breath away. Though to descend the cliff, you weren’t paying too much attention to the sunset.

What was it that he wanted to show you?

At the bottom of the cliff, there was a small beach area. It wasn’t that wide, but there was enough space to feel open and small enough to feel cozy. Your feet sank into the soft sand and you gasped at the sensation.

You grinned at the King and he was already watching you. “It’s so mushy!”

“I found this as a boy and told no one. The guards and Agojie will likely close this off if they ever knew. When I want to be alone, sometimes I come here. I don’t stay for long. If the King goes missing, it tends to cause a fuss,” he said.

He pulled you onto the beach proper. Your jaw dropped at seeing the ocean up close. The sun’s light only reached so far now. The moon was high in the sky, casting a faint glow over the water. You fought tears as you looked out over the darkened water. The King continued to show you sights you never imagined.

He pulled you closer to the water. Where the water touched the sand, your feet sunk deeper still. The wet, squishy sand burrowed between your toes. The waves washed up on shore and over your feet. You squealed when the cold water hit your skin. The King laughed at your reaction.

He took your hand and spun you around in the water. You giggled as you did so, feeling silly, but it was a nice feeling. A freeing feeling. A feeling as close to flying as you could possibly get. You began to feel dizzy and stopped spinning. You swayed and the King caught you. You gazed at him, held in his arms, and feeling…happy. Strangely, wonderfully, magnificently happy.

“My King…” you breathed. You had no adequate words to thank him. This was yet another thing he was able to take for granted and he shared it with you. Distantly, you wondered if he took his first wife here too. But that kind of thinking would only make you feel sick.

“I like when you call me husband more,” he said.

You smiled at him. “Husband it is then,” you said.

“Does this earn me one of your secrets?” The King asked.

Your cheeks were going to hurt from all of this smiling. How was it that he was able to manage the land and still remember silly conversations between you?

“What is it you would like to know?” You asked.

“Have I earned your love yet?” He frowned slightly and you wondered why. You were still leaning into his arms, as close as…well, lovers. There were more shadows now and the quiet lull of the waves on the shore ensured a kind of intimacy.

The moonlight made his skin shine and you licked your lips. It would be okay to admit this in the safety of night. When your face was not fully on display and you didn’t have to worry about how foolish you looked. A wife confessing her love to her husband.

“I do love you, my King. Despite my best attempts otherwise,” you said, with a smile.

“Why attempt otherwise? Am I that undesirable for a husband?” He asked.

“No!” You nearly shouted. How could you put this?

“Outside these palace walls, there are lots of rumors about you. We don’t know you as a people, which is to be expected. And if a father is to throw away his daughter, it is at your doorstep they discard us. Filled with thoughts of rumors and whispers. I expected you to be like any other man. Cruel, greedy, and dimwitted.”

You watched his face, but it was carefully controlled. Watching you with mild interest as you tried to explain your feelings. “But you are kind, smart, and funny. You…you’re safe. And I love you for making me feel safe,” you said.

The King took a deep breath. He grabbed your hands and brought them to his lips. He kissed both. Then he pulled you into a hug. “I can die happy knowing that I’ve earned your love. I love you, my radiant Queen,” he said.

Your heart leapt in your chest hearing those words. “Husband,” you said and crashed your lips to his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close to you. You molded your body to his so that no inch of him was not touching your body. You gasped into the kiss as you felt his dick, thick against your upper thigh.

King Ghezo groaned and placed his hands on your hips, pulling you closer still and kissing you back. Your kisses turned bruising, crashing your lips against each other with passion. Teeth scraped against each other. Tongued dueled. His hands coasted down your body until he gripped your ass in his hands.

He groaned and began to squeeze your ass with his big, rough hands. You felt him lift your ass cheeks and you moaned into your kiss. The back of your thighs tingled. If you had hoped that this raging fire inside of you would dim over time, you were sorely mistaken.

“Husband…” you said when there was a natural break in your kiss.

“Yes, wife?” He asked, his voice slightly shaking and breathy. He nuzzled your cheek with his nose, planting soft kisses along your jawline.

“Take me to bed?”

His kisses stopped. His lips lingered on your jaw, under your ear. “Are you sure, wife?”

“Take me to bed, husband. Please,” you said. The King leaned back and looked into your eyes. You didn’t know how else you could make it clear. If he asked you again, you may lose your nerve and rip his robes off here and now. If he ripped your robes off here and now, you would let him.

Your mind was cloudy with no other thoughts than you were tired of waiting. You were a wife and you wanted to experience your husband. You and your friends would giggle about sex growing up, well out of earshot of your fathers.

You thought it was a trite thing between married partners. Something only done to produce a baby. You never thought that it would feel like this. Like there were bugs beneath your skin ready to burst out if you did not find relief soon. That you would yearn for such a thing.

The King picked you up and you yelped in surprise. “Husband!” You squealed with laughter. He laughed with you but did not put you down until he reached the bottom of the slope. He went ahead of you to make sure you were safe on the jagged cliffside, avoiding rocks and slippery patches of grass.

You followed behind, holding his hand, and trusting that he would lead you to safety. He pulled you to the top of the cliffside, stopping long enough to kiss you. You laughed in between kisses, such joy trying to crack open from your chest.

The King pulled you into the palace, setting a pace that you barely kept up with. You had not thought that he would be so eager to take you to bed. Surely, he got it whenever he wanted from his first wife. But his excitement seemed to match yours.

The tips of your ears burned as you passed servants who smiled politely but likely knew what was about to happen. You shouldn’t be embarrassed to go to bed with your husband. And you weren’t embarrassed to the point that you changed your mind. You wanted to do a good job and please him. You wanted to leave him satisfied and you feared that your lack of experience would make this your first and only night with him.

What if he planted a baby inside you and never touched you again? Your heart squeezed painfully. That would break you. It would break you if your husband never touched you after tonight.

The King found your room with ease. He opened the door and ushered you inside, closing it behind you. You took to keeping your balcony doors open because it became dreadfully stuffy otherwise. The room was perfectly breezy now, the air brushing along your damp skin from the mad dash through the palace.

Standing in the room, the bed seemed impossibly large now. How different it was to stand here, not afraid of your husband or what you were about to do. You were terrified on your wedding night. Terrified that he would take what you were not offering. But he respected your wishes.

Now, your wishes were to see all of him. Touch all of him. A few candles were lit and you silently thanked Mawu-Lisa for that. You were not ashamed of your body, but you liked it better that you would do this mostly in the light of the moon.

The King brought your hand to his lips and kissed it. “I have dreamt of this many nights, wife. I will do my best. You must tell me if I’m hurting you,” he said.

“I promise,” you told him.

There was enough moonlight and light from the candles to point out most of his features. You saw him smile and then he pulled you closer. He dropped his head and kissed you. There was no more rush. The King was back to being sweet and tender, letting you get used to him being in your chambers.

He walked you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed. He slowed his kisses down, pulling away from you with a small groan. “I wish to see you, wife,” he said. His gaze searched yours for permission and you nodded.

You were so nervous, you could barely breathe at the moment. Need clawed your insides and it took all of your willpower to stand there while his hands reached for the tie at your waist. He pulled and tugged on it until the robe loosened. You took a deep breath as he peeled the side of the robe open, revealing your naked body beneath it.

You watched his face. His eyes were on your body. Eyes wide and nose flared as he looked at your exposed flesh. He let out a soft curse. “You are absolutely gorgeous,” he whispered.

You beamed at hearing his words. Many people had called you some variation of beautiful and it meant nothing to you. Hearing your husband say it was a treasure you locked away in your heart. You would trot it out for years and years and relive this moment until the end of your days.

“I wish to see you husband,” you whispered back. He stepped back and opened his arms. His robe was already open, revealing that delectable chest you salivated over. You slipped the sides off of him, revealing thick arms to match his solid chest. Here, you became shy. You knew that his pants would have to come off, in fact you were licking your lips at the thought, but you’d never seen a dick before. You weren’t prepared.

King Ghezo seemed to guess this. Maybe your face showed your fear. He stepped forward, slipping your own robes from your body and letting it pool at your feet.

“I am going to taste you, wife. Would you like that?” The King had a strange note in his voice that you could not name. Like he was enjoying your shyness.

“Taste me?” Did he not already taste you when he kissed you? The King only grinned and directed you to get on the bed. You did as you were told. The King’s hands grazed your ass as you wiggled onto the bed. Your skin tingled where he touched.

He told you to flip over, so you did. You waited for him to take his pants off and climb into bed. Wasn’t that the idea? You had no clue what to expect or do or feel. The bed dipped as he climbed on, his knees sinking into the mattress as he came closer.

He sat back on his knees and grabbed your left foot. He began to massage it and you fell back against the pillow as you sighed with pleasure. “Oh,” you moaned.

“This only works if you are relaxed. I know this is new. But I will be as open as possible, eh?” He asked.

“Okay,” you said. Your eyelids turned heavy as he put pressure on the heel of your foot, hitting a tender spot that shook you down to your bones. You melted into your bed, enjoying this. You wanted to catalog every second of this. If this would be your first and last time, you wanted the memories to keep you going.

He switched to your right foot, giving it just as much attention. Then he worked his way up both of your legs, spreading them wider the higher he went up. Your heartbeat began to pick up, but you were so relaxed from the massage, you screamed at your body to calm down. You did truly trust your husband.

He spread your legs and the cool air from outside hit your damp pussy. You bit your lip, looking away from him. Nothing about this should feel embarrassing and yet that’s exactly how it felt. No one had ever looked there and it made you nervous. Did he like what he saw? Was that a thing? Did it please him that you were wet for him?

A dark light entered his gaze. He stared at the very heart of you. Your pussy clenched and unclenched around nothing, somehow growing wetter under his intense scrutiny. His fingers tightened around your knees.

“Husband?” You asked.

“I’m trying to be gentle, but this is…proving very difficult.” His voice sounded hoarse as if he had been running for miles.

“I am yours, husband. However you wish,” you said.

His eyes snapped to yours. “Do not tempt me,” he said with a wicked grin. Then he flattened himself on the bed, scooting in between your thighs. Your eyes rounded as he seemed to be aiming his mouth for your pussy.

You were about to ask what he was planning to do, when his tongue swiped out and licked your pussy! “Oh!” You wailed. The sensation was completely foreign to you. You had nothing to compare it to. No basis to make you understand.

Your pussy was warm, his tongue was warm, but the minute he retreated, the cold air swooped in and swept across your exposed core. He licked you a few times and you could not stop the avalanche of moans tumbling from your lips. It felt divine. It felt weird. It felt amazing and you did not want him to stop.

“Are you okay, wife?” King Ghezo asked.

“Yes! Yes! Keep going!” You prayed. You prayed with all your might that you would get to experience this many times over. Your fingers played with his soft curls as he went back to licking you. His nose separated your folds as his tongue went lower, to your entrance, and he drank from you there. His slurps were loud in the chamber and you worried about the noise.

You gushed onto his face and you ought to feel some way about that, but all you felt was pleasure. There was tightening low in your belly but you ignored it in favor of feeling his wondrous tongue encircle your pussy. He groaned around you and it triggered your own groan.

When he hit a spot that you particularly enjoyed, you yanked on his curls. You immediately loosened your grip, not wanting to hurt him. He lifted his head from your center and looked at you. “Do what you must, wife. You will not hurt me,” he said.

You giggled nervously as you saw your essence dripping down his chin. All of that came from you?

You nodded and he returned to licking and tasting you. You moaned and dug your fingers into his curls, yanking and pulling. Your curses reached the ceiling and bounced back towards you.

The tightening got worse and worse until it almost felt like you were about to use it on yourself. You became worried that you would do just that, so you began to push at his head. His eyes flicked towards yours but he did not stop.

He kept going, keeping his gaze trained on you while that tightening became overbearing. “Oh, my King, I–”

A tidal wave of pleasure rolled through you and dragged you under. You moaned as that tight feeling dispersed, sending pinpricks of rapture to course through your body. You shook and jerked, your body completely out of your control.

The King moaned as he continued to taste you through it. “Taste so good. Love tasting you,” he murmured into your pussy. Your thighs gripped his head but still he kept going, until the last shiver left you panting against your pillow. Your sweat gathered there creating a weird mix between hot and cold from the open balcony.

“What..was that?” You asked.

“Climax,” he said.

“Climax?” You asked, rolling the word around your tongue.

“It’s what people do when they experience great pleasure.”

“So you will do it too?” You asked. How did people not spend every waking moment doing this? Now that you had experienced it, you never wanted to leave this bed!

He grinned and nodded as he ran his hand down his face, wiping away your arousal. He climbed up your body, planting kisses here or there to your tummy, until he reached your breasts.

“Are you alright, wife?” The King asked.

“Yes, husband,” you whispered. You couldn’t look at him. You were too full of love and basking in that wave of bliss. He chuckled as he kissed your belly.

“I’m going to kiss your breasts. Would you like that?” He asked.

“Yes!” You wanted to experience it all. You wanted all of it. Your hands caressed his thick arms, feeling his muscles bunch under your wandering hands. The King grinned and his mouth latched onto your nipple, suckling it into his mouth.

“Oh! Ouee,” you moaned. You had no idea that they could be so sensitive. When your cycle came, you only knew that they grew heavy and sometimes painful. But sensitive during this was fascinating to you as he rolled your nipple around his mouth. You watched the total concentration on his face.

Your hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck while he switched his attention to your other nipple. Your hip jerked violently and your pussy clenched, feeling strangely empty. In theory, you knew what sex was. Your mother had that particular talk with you. You knew that he would stick his dick in there but after everything else, you weren’t sure you could handle that. But you wanted to try.

The King kissed his way up your chest, kissed your neck, and then moved upwards to kiss your lips. You tasted and smelled yourself on him and it caused you to moan. You liked marking him in such a way. That it was your essence on his lips. That you belonged to him as only a wife could to her husband.

“I am going to enter you now, wife. I will go slow, but be patient with me.” You nodded. You had no clue what he was on about but you enjoyed everything else. You were sure you would enjoy that too.

King Ghezo scooted back and got off the bed. You missed the heat of his body instantly. The cold breeze from outside ran over your body and you shivered. The King smirked at you while his hands went to the waistband of his trousers. He lowered them off of his hips and your eyes watched his every movement.

The pants slipped down and exposed him and your jaw dropped open. His dick was huge, wide, with a defining mushroom head that your eyes zeroed in on. There was no way that would fit inside of you. Absolutely none!

He palmed his length, rubbing his hand up and down. “Like what you see?”

“You are…big,” you asked. Not that you had anything to compare it to. Surely, this was above average? Maybe this was why no one did this fifty times a day. If women were getting split in half by the likes of that, they wouldn’t be able to get any chores done! Ever.

The King chuckled as he climbed back onto the bed. He laid next to you. “Would you like to touch it?”

“I won’t hurt you?” You asked.

The King grinned and shook his head. You knew you were being painfully stupid, asking these questions and acting like a skittish animal. How could you not? Why did no one prepare you for this shit?

If you ever had a daughter, you would absolutely prepare her for this by detailing exactly what happened. No matter how awkward and painful it may be for the both of you, you would not send your daughter out into marriage without giving her some notion.

You reached out your hand and wrapped your fingers around his length. You gasped. “You’re so soft!” Yet hard at the same time? The skin was smooth to the touch, with faint veins on the side. Yet his dick was also hard, unyielding. What would it feel like inside of you?

The King began to kiss you while you stroked him. He groaned and moved his hips while you became bolder, gripping onto him harder, and loving the way he responded. He moved on top of you and gently moved your hand away from him.

He gripped his dick and ran it through your folds, coating himself with your arousal. The tips of your ears burned but it felt good and you found yourself sinking down into a more prone position.

He placed his dick at your entrance and took a deep breath. He looked into your eyes as he began to slide in. Your mouth dropped open as he stretched you. It both hurt and felt good as he worked his way in.

“Wait!” The King paused. He wasn’t even partially in but it felt like was stabbing you with a knife.

“It will get better, I promise,” he said.

You nodded and took deep breaths, but fuck! You held onto his wide shoulders as he began to move forward. He retreated until just the tip of him was at your entrance and then he dove back again, getting deeper with each stroke. Your nails dug into his skin, leaving half-moon marks in it, as the stretch was too much for you to bear.

Something wonderful began to happen, however. It hurt, yes, but you were growing accustomed to it. Your body welcomed him in, your arousal helping the slide of him. He was about halfway in, getting deeper and deeper. He hit a particular spot and you screamed, slapping at his shoulder.

“Shh, shh, you have to relax.” He kissed you, trying to take your mind off of the splitting pain inside of you.

The kissing helped and he kept going. His strokes were gentle but you knew instinctively that he had to work himself inside of you. He said it would get better and you truly hoped so.

The King’s arms shook as he held himself on top of you, mindful to not put all of his weight on you. “Are you okay, husband?” You asked.

He huffed a laugh. “I should be asking you. You feel so good. So tight,” he whispered.

You whimpered as he finally bottomed out, fully seated inside of you. He lay still, kissing your jaw, your lips, your cheek. Any area he could reach with his lips. Sweat gathered on his brow and you kissed his forehead when he dropped his eyes to look at where you were joined.

You followed his gaze. Somehow that giant thing between his legs fit inside of you. “I’m going to move now,” he said.

He moved out of you and then slowly pushed back in. This time, it wasn’t as painful. The more he did it, true to his word, the more it started to feel good. Really good.

The mushroom head of his dick glided along your inner walls. It dragged ragged moans from you and King Ghezo dropped his head. “Fuck,” he groaned.

His hips snapped as he increased his strokes. “Oue, oue, more, more,” you begged. You didn’t know what you meant, but he seemed to. He snapped his hips faster. He lifted one of your legs to straddle his hip. It opened you further and you moaned as he sank even deeper inside of you. You felt his dick twitching.

Your belly tightened and you knew now that it was a climax. He stroked long and deep, pulling inhuman moans from you.

“Come on, wife. Come on,” he cheered.

You turned watery eyes to him as the climax finally washed over you. It burrowed into your bones, turning your insides to jelly, and melting you from the inside out. Your body was out of your control, your mind blissfully empty as you focused on nothing but the pleasure in your veins and the way he looked at you. Devoted. Cherished.

He moaned low and deep in his throat before something warm coated your insides. His dick pulsed as he snapped his hips as far forward as possible. He was completely buried inside of you as that warm, squishy feeling filled you to the brim. You felt incredibly stuffed.

Was that his climax? You were too nervous to ask. It was a strange sensation but you loved the feeling of him moving inside of you. He groaned and dropped to the left of you. He kissed your shoulder.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He asked. You shook your head. Your body trembled as you recovered from your climax. The King grinned sloppily and kissed you gently. He pressed his lips to yours and lingered.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you,” you responded.

He began to soften inside of you. Wait, so that wasn’t how he was normally?! You felt stupid. There was so much you didn’t know. And who did you have to ask? Absolutely no one.

He pulled out of you and something slipped out right after him. Did you make a mess of yourself? You leaned up on your elbows and looked at your pussy. A white, creamy substance leaked out of you. Your eyes widened. That must have come from him.

You ran your fingers through it and it was silky and sticky. You looked at the King who watched your curiosity like it greatly pleased him. He rubbed your belly.

“Are you truly alright, wife?” He asked.

You nodded. “Will we do that again?” You asked. You flipped onto your side and faced him. He matched you and rested his head on his hand.

“As many times as you wish,” he said with a grin.

You opened your mouth, ready to say something, but a yawn escaped you. The King chuckled and caressed your cheek.

“Thank you. That was…everything,” he whispered. He pulled you closer for a kiss. “Let’s sleep,” he said.

He rolled you over onto your other side, facing away from the balcony. He wrapped his arms around you, one arm going under your head and the other around your middle. He scooted closer to your back, pressing the length of him along yours. His dick nestled into your ass and you wiggled.

His hand flexed on your hip. “Careful. Before I flip you back over.” His voice was gruff. His breath fanned across your ear and neck. You giggled and kissed his arm.

You would get good at this sex thing. You would make sure that he continued to feel good when he was with you so that you could do that all the time. You snuggled into the oppressive heat of his body and drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, you awoke to a cold bed. You leaned up, your bleary eyes scanning the room for the King. It made sense if he had to go back to his own room. A part of you wish he had stayed.

As if she were connected to you, your servant entered the room carrying a green dress in her hands.

“Good morning, my Queen. The King has requested you join him in the council room.”

“No breakfast?” You asked.

“It will be served after,” she said.

You nodded. You couldn’t fathom what the King would want before breakfast. It was unusual to have a council meeting this early. Maybe the Oyo have grown bolder and require more diligence in dealing with them.

There was only one way to find out. You got up from the bed but you were deliciously sore. Your heart was light, airy, filled with so much love you wanted to cry. His spend had dried between your legs so your servant handed you a wet cloth and you cleaned yourself up.

She helped you dress and fixed your hair into something presentable. You couldn’t stop grinning and giggling. You were a bit worried about this meeting. You hoped it wasn’t something mortifying. Like the King announcing that you had sex and was hoping for another baby soon.

Feeling and looking good, you left your room and headed to the council room. You were beyond to see your husband. You were the last to arrive. The King smiled when you entered. He, Nanisca, the first wife, and members of his council were standing in a circle with their backs to you.

Nansica was the closest to you. She turned around and bobbed her head. You nodded back towards her. The King held out his hand.

“Wife, come meet Sade.”

Your throat dried instantly as the King stepped aside and a lovely woman, with long braids stood beside the King. She had deep ebony skin, low cheekbones, and small features. She looked like a doll standing next to him.

Your smile froze on your face as you looked from the King to Sade. Your steps turned wooden as your stomach hollowed out. You stopped a few feet from them both.

“We will be married before the week is out as a union between our kingdom and her father’s,” The King said.

Your stomach roiled with acid. You knew this day would come. You knew that you could not possibly be the last of his wives.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you managed to say around the dry lump in your throat. Tears gathered in your eyes but you blinked them away. You would not cry and snivel like a little girl. No matter how much your world was crashing down around your ears. No matter that your heart beat painfully against your rib cage. You wished to carve it out and throw it away.

You touched your hand to your chest, shocked not to find blood there already. A stab wound would hurt less.

The past few weeks had taught you to lower your defenses and enjoy your newfound freedoms. Had you truly been free? The armor you donned every morning to survive your weak father and ineffective mother and their childish marriage schemes was not needed here. Or so you thought. You pulled on your resolve. You pulled on every ounce of strength you had to look that woman in the eyes.

It was not her fault that she was traded to the King for an alliance. It was always done that way. You looked at her and only saw yourself. In another life, you would have been from a rival kingdom. Sold to a different land with different customs, food, dress, and manner of speaking. Outcast and foreign and you would have looked as she looked. Confused, relieved with such a handsome king, and yet desperately seeking someone to understand and reach out a hand.

You had no hands to give. You hated her instantly at that moment. Your rival. Was this how the first wife felt? You looked to her and she only smiled at you and the King and Sade. How could she stomach this shit?

You looked towards the King. He watched you, a slight furrow in his brow. How could he do this right after the night you spent together? After confessing your love for each other? Would he enter her bedroom on their wedding night and plant a baby so easily inside of her? Or would he wait as he did for you, coaxing you into bed, just so he could leave for the next one?

Your body shook without your permission. You trembled with rage and you hated showing even that much. You placed your hand against your belly as you flushed with heat. If you pressed hard enough, this terrible dream would end. You would wake up in the circle of his arms and laugh this dream away.

“Are you alright?” The King asked.

“I’m going to be sick.” You fled from the room. Fled from the circle of people who welcomed this new bride into your lives. Fled from the stupid, childish notion that he would have stopped with you. That it would have just been you and the silent wife.

You wanted to laugh. You pitied the first wife when you got here. You felt sorry for her that she had to watch you come along, kissing at breakfast like lovesick fools. Now you were asked to do the same. To share the love of your life with another. Someone newer, younger, daintier. You had wished for him to find someone more wifely. Ha! Who was more wifely than someone likely raised with the knowledge that she would be given away for a political alliance?

She was likely raised and taught to speak well, think well, with knowledge of subjects you could only dream of. She likely knew how to run a household, to help ease the burdens of her husband. As a wife to a King? She probably already had knowledge on how to please him. How to make him laugh.

She was completely refined and you were no more than a common village girl who no one wanted. Tears finally streamed down your cheeks as you rushed down the hallways. The pale color of the walls only served to make you sicker, weaker. You ran to your room, slamming the door behind you. You locked it and then ran to your balcony.

You could only see part of the lands from here. The view before you was mostly jungle. You folded your arms around your stomach, trying to keep your insides intact. Trying to keep your emotions in check. You quaked with unreleased grief.

You survived your childhood. You survived your hateful father. You survived disgusting people with wandering hands and twisted words. You would survive this too. It hurt like hell, but you would survive this.

You were not weak. You were not small. You were not so dumb as to believe that you would have ever mattered to anyone but yourself. You were born alone and you would die alone. And that would have to suffice.

The Secret King Ghezo Files | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret King Ghezo Files #King Ghezo x Black!reader #King Ghezo x Black reader #King Ghezo x Fem!reader #King Ghezo x Fem reader #King Ghezo x reader #King Ghezo x you #x Black reader #The Woman King fanfic #The Woman King fan fic #The Woman King fanfiction #The Woman King fan fiction #King Ghezo

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hotteoki · 4 months

Text

christmas things with bf skz !

pairing: hyung line skz x reader (no prns used)

genre: fluff, point-form fic, est. rel.

cw: not proofread

wc: 0.9k

notes: merry christmas to anyone who celebrates it, and a happy monday to those who don't! P.S. happy birthday val <3 @kyrjnie

chan (방찬) ~ ice skating

despite having to wait in the long, long, long queue for what feels like centuries just to ice skate in a tiny rink outside the local mall

it's a tradition you and chan do every year

sure, it's not ideal to wait an hour in the freezing cold just to skate for 45 minutes only

but when chan is standing right behind you

helping you wrap your scarf the correct way

zipping your coat all the way up

pulling your beanie that was riding up your head back down

and holding a warm cup of hot chocolate?

you could get past that

besides

it's always funny to watch him flail his arms around like bambi

sometimes you like watching him struggle just to see his frown when you don't help him up

"you don't love me anymore!!!!!"

"if i try to pull you up i'm going to fall down right beside you, chan"

"YOU SHOULD AT LEAST TRY!!!!"

so you do

and to no one's surprise except chan's

you fall down

the little pro skater kids start to get worried when neither of you are able to get up

well you could

if chan didn't attempt to yank on you as support to pull himself back up

why does this man not understand that you are incapable of supporting him to stand back up

it's cute to watch him attempt to recreate one of the figure skating spins tho

i am nawt a figure skater idk the names i'm sawry

you two are just goals goals goals!!!!!!!

minho (민호) - mall intercom announcements

it first happened 4 years ago

it was the most embarrassing moment of your life

minho had suggested the two of you go christmas shopping at the biggest mall in south korea

one second you were holding his hand

the next you're spinning around in the middle of the 2nd floor wondering where the hell your 172cm boyfriend could've wandered off to

you were about to call him until you realise you have his phone after he gave it to you before running off into the toilet

"what if my phone drops into the toilet bowl?!"

you were about to start retracing your steps until you hear your name being announced by the information desk, followed by a "your boyfriend is waiting for you by the information desk at the 3rd floor"

you were so going to kill that man

but that night you think to yourself

killing him isn't enough

no, no

you needed to embarrass him right back

so you held your grudge until next christmas

you mumbled something about a flash sale at a nearby store and that he should find you there after he was done scouring uniqlo and ran off before he could object

you gave yourself a few more minutes before you made the announcement over the information desk

boy, was he mad when he saw the cheeky smile on your face

ever since then, it became a tradition for the two of you to race each other to make the lost person announcement to embarrass the other

it's all fun and games until the worker stares in confusion over thinking either one of you was the other's lost kid

changbin (창빈) ~ take-outs

you don't know why either of you still bother cooking christmas dinner

neither of you can cook

sure, you're a fairly decent baker

but that won't suffice for a christmas dinner

and changbin cannot cook for his life

yet you still take turns deciding on who's going to poison the other

obviously that never works out

the day either ends with you guys calling minho and asking begging him if you could have some of his leftovers

your more preferable option

ordering take-out

despite take-out being a very common occurrence for you guys

take-outs on christmas are special

the reason being the free sweets your favourite restaurant usually provide in the small bowl by the entrance

yes, the sweets are there usually

but after changbin accidentally caused a scene the first time you dined in at the restaurant long story

the owner had banned either of you from taking the complementary sweets

however

during christmas time, customers bustle in and out of the restaurant

which makes it easy for changbin to snag a handful of sweets and shove them in his pocket

before grabbing your hand and making a run for it back to his car

you do get some odd looks from the other customers queuing outside the restaurant

but at the end of the day

who are the ones who have a bunch of free sweets to snack on? B-)

hyunjin (현진) ~ sweater paws

it's the time of christmas! meaning...

taking hyunjin's oversized sweaters!!!

needless to say it's your favourite thing to do

it's not that he doesn't let you borrow them usually

he just... prefers to keep his expensive clothes in his closet safe and sound

however

he does indeed have a 'sweater of shame'

a christmas sweater that the other members got him as a gag gift a couple of years ago

you will never catch that man ALIVE wearing that "hideous thing"

so when you started dating him and found that absolute gem

you had decided it make it your mission to shove that "disgusting" piece of clothing over his head

except somehow the tables turned

and the sweater ended up wrapped around you

and hyunjin will never openly admit this

but it was quite literally one of the cutest sights he had ever seen in his life

ever since then

he's made it his mission to get you to wear the sweater every christmas

obviously you run away from him

until last year

when he finally caught you and managed to get it on you

you discovered the sweater does have a plus side to it

sweater paws

it feels like playing whack-a-mole whenever you attempt to swing at hyunjin with the sweater on

whack-a-hyunjin, perchance

he claims to hate it and runs away from you

but you both know it's something the two of you look forward to every christmas

networks: @kflixnet k-labels @kbookshelf @neverendingdreams-net @straykidsland @k-films pirateeznet

283 notes · View notes

justjams2003 · 4 months

Text

Fast Pace- 7

Also a very Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate! And Free Palestine.

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic.Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, tell me if I missed any

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis

Word count: 3,4k

Masterlist

Part 6~Part 8

Us Weekly:

“Carlos Sainz seen with a new girl on the paddock.”

People Magazine:

“Carlos Sainz’s new girl proves to be a fashion icon.”

Elle Magazine:

“Carlos Sainz seen dancing in the rain with his new girlfriend.”

Cosmopolitan Magazine:

“Is this new girl just a fling or here to stay?”

You can see the news articles flash before you in full HD on the new phone Carlos got you. Fully signed in on everything. Not only that but your Instagram has blown up already. Ten thousand new followers since you last uploaded a picture with you standing by the paddock. You haven’t had time to reply to any comments or new dm’s, because you were on a flight 6 am Monday.

“So, how was your first F1 weekend?” You know its Charles talking to you, but you’d much rather not even open your eyes right now. Eventually, you decide to be courteous, and you see he looks more than excited to talk to you. You gather up all your strength and put on the best smile you can. “It was a lot more fun than I expected. But there was also a lot of sitting around.”

He nods and continues. “Yes, Alexandra usually stays home for most gp’s. She usually only comes for the important ones, like Italy where were going now. It’s strange that Carlos brought you to Zandvoort for your first time.” Your mind feels foggy and thinking of a reason why seems almost useless. Where is Carlos, can’t he do all this for you?

“Yeah um, he was just so excited,” it seems good enough but thinking feels like such a chore. “Are you okay?” He asks, going closer to see if you’re okay. “Yeah, I’m uh fine...It’s just...” just then your saviour comes. Carlos sits down beside you, unaware of the conversation. “Are you not feeling better yet?” Almost instinctively you wrap your hands around his arm.

You wouldn’t usually do this. Normally you’d be more aware of your relationship and making sure Carlos is ready. But right now thinking feels above your capacity. “Is she sick?” Charles asks and Carlos can feel the jealousy grow in his stomach. It takes everything in him not to glare at his teammate or tell him to back off.

“Yeah, smoking withdrawals. I just don’t know what to do to help.” He pulls your hair out of your face. Charles sighs, “I’m sorry mate,” he pats you on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you then and get to know your girl later on.” When Charles is gone, Carlos takes you under the arms and pulls you closer into his arms, cradling you.

“I got you something,” that gets you to look up but what is in his hands disappoint you. It’s a green smoothie and a big sandwich. “You brought me healthy food? You monster,” you groan taking the sandwich from him and taking a big bite. He chuckles but continues to rub circles on your back.

“I don’t like Charles talking to you.” He mumbles, you know he’s talking to himself mostly. “He’s going to talk to me, Carlos. You take me everywhere, and where you go, he goes.” You chuckle, thinking back to the weekend. He only hums as a reply. “I’m sorry that I’m like this. I know you don’t want this.”

You mumble, still enjoying your sandwich, taking sip from your fresh drink. He sighs and shakes his head. “You keep saying that. What on earth do you mean?” There is annoyance in his voice, you can hear it and it makes you stiffen. He’s never been annoyed with you before. “I read a few articles about our...agreement. They all say you daddies want stress-free, low-maintenance always happy girls.”

He scoffs at you, “Siempre tan terca. Do you believe everything they say on the internet?” He asks, now regretting giving you the new phone and unlimited data plan. “So far what they’ve said about you and me has been true.” You shrug, finishing your sandwich as you think back. There were even TikTok's.

“Oh yeah, and what do they say?” He asks, peering down as you finish your drink. “Well, that I’m incredibly fashionable and also a gold digger.” You chuckle watching as he rolls his eyes at you again. Then he stares you down, taking your chin between his fingers. “Didn’t I tell you, mi querida, you and I are more.”

You can see his eyes flicker to your lips, and you’re entranced by his. The silence between you is deafening and you can feel your head spinning. “Can I kiss you?” the words are on the tip of your tongue, but you just don’t have the guts to ask. “I’m sorry you had a bad weekend.” He licks his lips and then takes your empty cup and paper and places it on the table.

Carlos then takes you in his arms again and holds you tight once more. His smell almost seems to get rid of your headache. “It’s alright, this weekend will be better. I’m sure, because then you’ll feel better and you can be by my side. And with you by my side, the world championship will be mine in no time.”

You giggle and curl yourself closer into his side. “Call it my 50%. Being your good luck charm.” He laughs and then pulls you closer to him. “I must warn you my dear, Italy is the home of Ferrari. The Tifosi are...enthusiastic to say the least.” His cheeks almost go pink at the thought of just how excited some of them can be.

“They can’t be that bad...” you mutter, languidly making small circles on his thigh. He laughs, “I mean, without them we wouldn’t have met.” You turn on your back so that you can look up at him. “Was that the screaming I heard that day?” He smirks and nods. “Why were you running from them? And why didn’t you want to tell me then?” You ask, watching his eyes intensely like always.

He leans back, now his hands are in your hair. You can feel your headache dissipating as his big strong hands untangle any knots that hid from you. “Sometimes, I just want to roam the streets of Paris without being bombarded to take photos. And I didn’t tell you because I was scared you might be one of them and have a... similar reaction.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh. “Did it disappoint you when I didn’t fall to my knees and kiss your shoes?” He lets out a sigh at your shenanigans. “It was nice for someone to show me kindness because they are human not because of what I do.” This does make your heart melt; you can’t help yourself.

You let your hands reach up and touch his cheek, letting his scruff tickle your hands. “Tell me, how can I be that person for you? What more can I do for you?” He takes your hand and holds it close before he places a kiss on your palm. “Don’t ever change. Not for me, not for your family, not for your future. Don’t ever let the world take away that smile, or that sprakle in your eyes.”

His words bring tears to your eyes, and you can’t help but use the sleeves of your (his) hoodie to wipe away the forming tears. “Why do you cry, mi amor?” He asks, his brows furrowing to a point between his brows. You can just shake your head. “I’m just emotional, is all.” He shakes his head and the continues massaging your scalp.

“Get some sleep, mi amor.”

You’re awoken by a door opening. Not a plane door, a hotel door. It takes a few moments to realise, but you’re tucked in deep into the soft comforter. The room is dark, and it doesn’t take long for your eyes to get use to the light. Then, you see Carlos coming closer and then squatting down next to the bed.

“Good morning, sleepy head. I was starting to get worried that you’d gotten sick.” He says, pushing the hair out of your face. “Good morning?” You ask, starting to sit up, confused by the dark room. He smirks along with a chuckle. “Shall I open the curtains?” He then stands and you watch him as he walks across the hotel room to the window.

The light floods in and you peak your head back under the covers. “What time is it?” You ask, listening as he walks about. “It’s about 12-ish.” This doesn’t seem so bad, but Carlos said you’d go to the gym as soon as you landed. The realisation causes you to throw the comforter off.

He tsks, coming over and smoothing the furrow between your brows. “Why would you let me sleep that long?” You ask with just a bit of a whine in your tone. “Because you are sick and need the rest.” You huff and push out your bottom lip. “I missed our first gym session,” you whine. For once you were looking forward to it and you can see by his wet hair that he already went and already showered.

After all, you did see the Instagram story he posted on Friday morning. The thought of seeing him hot and sweaty is enough to get your workout shoes on. Again, he tsks and shakes his head. “Not while you’re recovering. You can take a walk, get some fresh air but that is it until you start to feel better.”

Carlos’ voice is stern and leaves no room to argue. For now, you’ll just have to continue keeping a close eye on his Instagram. “I bought something for you.” He smiles, walking over to the bag he had placed on the couch in the hotel room. There is a pep in his step. He brings over two boxes and two bags, both from name brands that you’ve only ever dreamed of owning.

He looks so excited to see you open the boxes and honestly you too are gleaming with elation. The first box is flat and you open it to pull out a beautiful hand spun white boho maxi-dress. “It’s hotter in Italy,” he explains before you open the next box. Its beautiful brown woven sandals to match with the boho effect. Lastly, the bag.

The shopping bag has the unmistakable Prada logo. “You shouldn’t have,” you mutter feeling your heartbeat rise. His glare makes you want to eat your words. You take the bag out as if it is ancient Chinese porcelain. The bag matches perfectly with the sandals. The same brown with the same woven effect.

“Oh, it’s gorgeous Carlos, thank you so much.” You reach over and pull him tight into a hug. You can smell his musky deodorant and it makes you never want to let go. “I saw all these and instantly thought of you.” He smiles and then continues. “Lastly, they made special Ferrari merch for Italy.” He explains, taking out the red, yellow and black shirt. Along with a cap with the same colour theme.

“You like them? They make me think more Spanish flag than Italy. It suits you,” you smirk with a raised brow. Once again reminded by his strong accent. He only shrugs, “Doesn’t really matter if I like them or not. Wear or don’t wear, that’s up to you.” You gasp and this time it’s your turn to scold them.

“No, Carlos. You must stand up for yourself.” He smirks at your reaction and raises his brow. “Is that so? I’ll keep that in mind next time you push out that bottom lip of yours.” He replies, giving your lip a swipe and then going on. “Now go get dressed. We’re going out for brunch; you must be hungry.”

“The view is really beautiful, hold on let me send you guys a photo.” You take a picture from the balcony. In clear view is a beautifully crafted, over 500-year-old church. Not only that but you have a perfectly clear view of the circuit. If you wanted to, you could watch the race from the balcony. Knowing Carlos, he would prefer it so.

“Woah, girl. Isn’t that so cool? In a five-star hotel in Italy right next to the formula one track.” Jasmine says over the phone. You can’t help but chuckle. “How are you feeling?” Ilsa asks, not as impressed by the fancy location. “Better, he’s really been taking good care of me.” You explain thinking back. “Oo, do tell.” It’s Jas again.

“He let me sleep in his arms on the plane and even tucked me in and let me sleep more. He woke me up with gifts,” you can’t talk more before Jasmine demands to know what the gifts are. “He got me this beautiful dress, and brand-new shoes. Both name brand. And you’ll never guess what.” You begin but don’t even allow them to guess. “He got me my very first Prada bag.”

You can hear screaming through the phone while you send them a photo. As well as the Instagram photos Carlos took for you. “He took these photos for you?? Damn girl, he knows all your best angles.” You blush at Jas’ words. “It seems all too good to be true...” Ilsa seems to speak your thoughts out loud.

“Yes, there are some small things that seem a bit odd.” They both go a bit quiet. “Like?” Ilsa asks, and you know this might ring alarm bells for them. “He has these two bodygaurds to follow me everywhere.” You get two wildly different reactions. Jas coos and Ilsa gasps. “And I feel a bit like he’s babying me.”

Ilsa asks for you to explain. “Well he’s working with a dietitian to make sure I get all my daily vitamins, and once I get better, he got me a personal trainer.” They both are dead silent. “That is a bit strange...” This time it’s Jasmine talking. “That doesn’t seem normal at all,” it’s Ilsa talking, and you know she’s right.

“But it’s the terms I agree too so I can’t really say anything about it.” There isn’t much else to be said. “I suppose, but as soon as he crosses a line, you’ll leave him, right?” Ilsa asks and you bite your lip. “That’s the thing. He hasn’t tried to do anything to me, even once. He’s been nothing but kind to me. He keeps saying he and I will become something more but so far it’s only been words.”

They hum as a reply, “Maybe you should make the first move?” Jas suggests and Ilsa scolds her for it. “That’s the thing, I don’t know if I want that. What if it makes things weird between us? What if I do make the first move and that’s all he sees me as after? What if I do make a move and he just wanted someone to talk to and he ditches me?” You can hear your friends roll their eyes at you. “You’re overthinking it, Y/N. If it’s meant to be, it will be. For now, just enjoy the lavish life and look hot. That’s your job.”

The conversation plays in your head over and over. Who is right? Jasmine or Ilsa? Should you just enjoy the luxuries he gives you, or question his actions? Why is he doing all this for you? You read online that Sugar Daddies like to spoil. Take their babies on trips and buy them anything and everything. But do they form diet plans and make sure you get a full 8 hours of sleep?

Do they tuck you into bed at night, and get you medication to help with smoking withdrawals? Do they hire a personal trainer to make sure you stay in healthy body? Do they tell you, you’re their person and promise to visit your family? Are there lines being crossed? Should you be more wary? Or should you just shut up and enjoy it?

You toss and turn at night. It’s already 2 in the morning, Carlos had you going to bed at ten. Like you said, he wants you getting a full night’s rest. You just can’t sleep. Likely due to the withdrawals but also due to the storming thoughts in your mind. And you remember feeling this same way all of last weekend.

The only other thing that got you to sleep last weekend, was Carlos. Being wrapped in his arms and surrounded by his scent. Now that you’re sleeping in separate rooms, would it be weird for you to ask for him to hold you? How weird is that? Would that be considered making the first move? You know for a fact that Carlos would be seething if he found out you didn’t sleep at all.

You open the door, there are different bodyguards here. Likely the night shift and it feels so eerie to have them standing there. There aren’t even any by his door and you know other drivers are staying here and you haven’t seen them have any bodyguards. “Um, excuse me?” You grab their attention, but they don’t seem to notice.

“Do you maybe have a keycard for Carlos’ room?” The taller of the two reaches into his breast pocket, pulls out a keycard and then hands it to you. “Thank you,” you smile up at him but get little reaction. You keep across the hall and open his door with a click.

His room is the same as yours, but reversed. You can see from here that he is sound asleep. You can feel a pang of guilt hit you at just the thought of waking him up for something this silly. He looks so peaceful, not stressed, or anxious about his future. No he seems entirely at content to be drifting away in Dreamland.

Do you really have to wake him? Can't you just return? It's a nice thought, but you can't help but remember last weekend. You were too exhausted to even enjoy the energy and the surrealism of the moment. You spent most of the time as a zombie in Carlos' room. And when the actual finished, you had been sitting in the garage and only registered when Carlos came up to you.

Needless to say he was furious when he found out truly just how little you slept. And how well you hid it from him. You'd gotten use to putting up a smile and hiding the exhaustion from the people most important to you. He told you that your health was on the same level of priority as his racing to him. Which, honestly, blew your mind.

Your health has always been on the back burner. Something you'll worry about when you have more money and more time. Now you have an abundance of both and still can't help but ignore it. Because if you adress it, it makes it real.

Now, as you stand besides his bead, you can't help but feel like a child. Is that how he sees you? As a responsiblity he's here to dress and take care of? Is that why he won't kiss you? Why his touch is soft and gentle and never show anything more than worry?

If you leave now, you know for a fact those goons outside your door will definitely tell him. Likely, they would tell him that you didn't sleep too. Just do it! You had practiced the words so well before. This is the first time you've truly wanted for something. He's taken care of everything else before you could even think about it. But now you have to ask him for something.

You gently tap his arm, no reaction. He must be a deep sleeper. This time you shove a bit harder, it's difficult to see exactly what you're shoving especially with the black out curtains. This time, however, he does stir and you can only assume awoke when words spill from his mouth.

“What is wrong, mi dulce chica?” He asks, already his hand gently caressing your arm. You take a deep breath in and try not to think of your next words too much. “Daddy, I can't sleep.” You can't see his reaction but soon after he opens up the duvet and his arms. Queuing for you to join him.

This. This is exactly what you needed. He cradles your head between his arms. Your knees pressed between his legs. You body perfect matching his. That small. The smell of a hot summer day. Of his musky deodorant and what you can only describe as a day in the beach. If you could bottle his scent, you're certain you'd make millions.

You had so many questions that you wanted to ask him. But now as you're cuddled in his arms, your thoughts just melt away. Into a nice and warm sheen over your body. Sleep comes easy.

My tag list is open!

#Fast Pace #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x sugar baby!reader #sugar daddy!carlos sainz #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x reader #formula one #formula 1 #f1 #f 1 x reader

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bunnies-and-sunshine · 4 months

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Sharing the love!

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas for those who celebrate it and a very happy Monday for those who don't. We also hope you all have a safe and Happy New Year!

#bunny #river the bunny #mr giraffe #kiss under the mistletoe #christmas 2023 #sharing the love

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canirove · 4 months

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In The Name of Love | Chapter 6

Author's note: Since next Monday is Christmas day, I will be posting the chapter that should be up that day on Wednesday, which means that next week you will have new chapters on Wednesday and Thursday 😊 Also sorry about this chapter being a bit meh and on the short side, but I think I am making up for it on the next one 😁 Also, to those of you who are just reading this and don't follow me, happy holidays and merry christmas to those of you who celebrate! 💜

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

Good luck tonight! Hopefully it won't rain, because those clouds look so bad… (📸) Also look at the sea. Back home it doesn't get like this (📸) The food here is just 🤤 (📸) You have fans who aren't teenagers 😱 (📸) I wonder if they'll think I'm one too (📸)

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"And?"

"Nothing yet" I sigh. "This was a good idea, right?"

"It was" Emma says, giving my hand an encouraging squeeze. "Traveling to the other side of the country to watch him play is so romantic!"

"I don't care if it is romantic or not. I just want to explain everything to him and for things to go back to the way they were."

"Who would have thought you would end up missing a teenager's dick, uh?" she laughs.

"I should have brought Silvia with me" I reply, rolling my eyes.

"But sadly, she's too busy with Pau finally being back, so you'll have to deal with me" she smiles.

It's been a month since that stupid engagement party, since Pedri and I had that argument, since I last saw him in person. And I've felt like shit every single day.

I should have been honest with him. I should have opened myself to him, share all my fears. But I couldn't. I was too much of a coward, and because of it, I may have lost the person who managed to finally make me close a chapter of my life. The person that gave me what I needed to finally let go.

But I'm ready now. I'm ready to tell him everything. And that's why Emma and I are here, though her first plan was a bit stalkery.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I just sent him a good luck message before the game and he has left me as read. Again" I sigh.

"At least you know he hasn't blocked you."

"Yeah, I guess. But I can't keep living this, I have to do something."

"Why don't you just show up at his house and don't leave until he listens to you?"

"I can't do that, Emma. He'll end up calling the police."

"Then why don't you go watch him play at the Camp Nou? Maybe his friends can help you corner him somewhere so you can talk."

"That isn't such a bad idea, you know… Though they are going on international break after tonight's game."

"Then let's go watch him play with Spain! You could even wear his shirt, I'm sure he would like that. You aren't allergic to that one, are you?"

"I'm not, no" I laugh. "But I don't know where they are playing and when. And there may not be tickets left."

"Then let's find out" she says, taking out her phone and starting to type.

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A couple of hours after that conversation, and mostly thanks to Ferran, we had it all ready. We would be spending the weekend in La Coruña, a city in the West of Spain where the national team is playing, and where, hopefully, I will find a way to convince Pedri to let me explain myself.

"Is it him?" Emma asks when my phone buzzes.

"Oh my God" I gasp. "It's him, he has replied!" I say, my hand shaking.

"What does he say?"

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Val, what is all that?

Are those photos real?

Yep

Are you here?

In La Coruña?

And wearing my shirt? 😳

I am

Wait a second

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"Emma, he's facetiming me."

"Then pick up!"

"How do I look?"

"For the love of God, Valeria. Who cares? Pick up!"

"Ok" I say, taking a deep breath. "Hello" I smile.

"Show me around."

"What?"

"Show me around, Valeria."

"Don't need to be so rude, Pedro" I say, moving so he can see where I am. Emma and I had sat down on a bench not too far away from the stadium to kill time until we can go inside.

"You are here. You… Why?"

"Well, Emma and I had a free weekend and wanted to disconnect from the kids, we saw an ad about the game, we had never been to La Coruña, and we said, why not?" I shrug.

"Let's go disconnect from the kids by watching other kids play" Pedri chuckles.

"Asensio isn't a kid."

"Then why are you wearing my shirt?" he asks, arching an eyebrow.

"It was the only one left in the shop" I shrug again.

"Sure" he laughs.

"It was yours or Morata's, and you know how I feel about him."

"I do, yes" he laughs again. God, I had missed hearing him laugh. "Anyway, I gotta go, we are leaving the hotel now."

"Ok."

"Thank you for coming to the game."

"Of course" I smile. But he doesn't. He's gone serious again.

"Bye, Valeria."

"Bye" I say before he hangs up.

"That went well, didn't it?" Emma says.

"Did it?" I sigh.

"It did! You had a little moment there, so there still is hope."

"I guess, but he kept calling me Valeria and… Wait" I say when my phone buzzes again.

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Don't forget to send me your good luck text.

It is the last thing I always read before warm up

I won't. I promise 😊

❤️

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"See? There still is hope!" Emma says, grabbing my arm and squeezing it. She's actually hurting me, but I don't care.

Because there still is hope.

#pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri fanfic #pedri gonzalez fanfic #pedri imagine #pedri gonzalez imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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celluloidbroomcloset · 4 months

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Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and Happy Sunday/Monday to those who don't!

#the avengers #john steed #emma peel #gif #patrick macnee #diana rigg

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galladrabbles · 4 months

Note

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and Happy Holidays to those who don't!

This is my favorite time of year. Friends and family come to visit, eat good food, share and create memories. I find that there is always room for one more plate at the table, one more pour of wine in my glass, one more gift beneath the tree. So here's my prompt for the week!

Room For More

I can't wait to read what you lovely people come up with! 💜💜💜

Hey Dyno,

thank you for your holiday wishes and your intriguing fun prompt!

We wish you and everyone a wonderful time of the year as well. For the one person you didn't expect to show up at your table, for the bottle of wine always being half full and for that one special gift underneath your tree which will make you smile!

So here's your holiday prompt, dear Galladrabbles- Crew:

Room For More

Happy Christmas, happy holidays, happy Monday!

Happy Drabbling Everyone!

#galladrabbles #gallavich #shameless #no106 #last prompt of the year 2023!!!#room for more

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dimension20npcofalltime · 4 months

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Merry Christmas to those who celebrate

And Happy Monday? Is there such a thing? To those who don't.

Gang the time for D20 Advent Calanders is over but I wanted to remind y'all that the submissions are still open for Tournament Three! There have been very few submissions so far, although Lukas is dominating which I think indicates that the fandom has a type when it comes to favourite lil guys.

Please keep submitting, the only restriction is that previous finalists can't be submitted otherwise go wild. I've more got the hang of running these now so it would be great if we got lots of submissions and could make it spectacular.

The original plan was to close the submissions on the 7th of January which would line up well with Junior Year's premier on the 10th, but that can only happen if there are more than 11 submissions so please if you would like to vote to determine who will join Ayda and Gilear as the NPC of all time submit your favourites, who knows maybe a non Fantasy High NPC could make it to the finals this time round?

All this said thank you so much to everyone who has been participating and interacting it has been so much fun running this account I've been having a blast reading all the propaganda and tags, looking forward to more D20 (and more NPCs) in 2024. Thank you I love you all.

#dimension 20 #dimension20npcofalltime #dimension 20 bracket #dimension 20 tournament #d20 #fantasy high #fantasy high sophomore year #fantasy high junior year

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autistichalsin · 4 months

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Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and to those who don't, I hope you have a good Monday! :)

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dilf-in-peril · 1 year

Text

"Oh, you wanted the real Punk, you wanted Pipebomb Punk? Well, you got it, you got your pipebomb, your muffingate" [chuckles in the crowd] "and it was more real than anything I ever said up on stage in the WWE. You got the real Punk, Max, and just like y'all" [Punk gestures at the crowd] "you just couldn't handle it." [some boos] "No, I know this is difficult for all of us, but stay with me here, I have something to show you people.” [Punk takes out his phone] “My conversation history with Maxwell Jacob Friedman.” [MJF makes a dash for the phone but is held back by FTR, Punk is visibly amused now]

“Monday, September 5th 2022, the night I punched Matt Jackson in the face." [crowd gasps] "Message from Maxwell Jacob Friedman, three in the morning: Are you okay?" [nervous giggles in the crowd] "Monday, September 5th, the same day, 5 pm: You stupid old man, why didn't you just keep quiet, you're ruining everything." [some cheers] "Monday, September 12th, 10 pm: You can call me if you want to talk." [faint laughter] "Tuesday, September 13th, 1 am, that's three hours later: Please respond." [loud laughter] "Tuesday, September 13th, 2 am, that’s an hour later: I hate you. Thursday, October 20th: I hate you so much. Sunday, November the 19th: I did it. I’m the champ. I wish I could have taken the belt off you." [mixed crowd reaction] "Saturday, December 25th, Christmas Day: Merry Christmas, Punk. I hope you have a lovely day and the arm is healing alright. See you soon? Christmas tree emoji, menorah emoji, red heart emoji." [devastating silence, cut to Max’s mortified face]

"Y'all wanna know how many messages I have sent to Max in those fifteen weeks between my little backstage altercation and Christmas Day? Zero. Because I don't care about you, Max, you are nothing to me, you're not even a blip on my radar. You can scratch at my door, you can talk shit about me on twitter, you can quote my promos all day, copy my mannerism, copy the way I talk and walk, all in a desperate attempt to get my attention, but I'm still just gonna leave you on read." [crowd erupts into laughter, MJF is fuming]

"Max, I once called you a less famous Miz, and I have to apologize for that. Truth is, you are nothing but a less famous CM Punk and now that the real CM Punk is back, the only thing that's giving you any relevance at all in this company, in this whole damn business, is the fact that you stole this belt from Jon Moxley, who shouldn't have been wearing it in the first place, because I am the rightful AEW World Champion. PG Punk is dead, but I am here and I'm old and I'm hurt and I'm tired of working with you." [crowd cheers]

"And, Max, for your own good, I suggest you spend more time wrestling in the ring, and less time trying to get the attention of older men, because when you get that attention, this Sunday, November 13th, Chicago, Illinois at the Full Gear pay-per-view, you won't be able to handle it."

#cm punk #mjf #I accidentally a whole fanfic

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