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#the colors are divine and delicious!!
kteezy997 · 5 months
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The Candy Man-Part One// W.W.
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Warnings: Smut, mention of masturbation, male receiving oral sex, virgin Wonka, cowgirl, missionary, some dirty talk, curse words, cream pie, female receiving oral sex, oh and cheating on spouse A/n: I have not seen Wonka yet, so there are NO spoilers here!
As a young housewife, there wasn't much for you to do. You had done the housework for the week and done all the grocery shopping, and it was only Wednesday. This would make for a long, boring week.
It would be different if you had a child to look after, but sadly, that hadn't happened yet. And it may never happen if your husband continues to show such a low interest in sex. Sometimes it felt like he forgot you even existed.
You wished he would just give you a baby, if he didn't want to give you attention. That way you'd have not only something to occupy your time, but you'd also have someone to love, and for someone to love you. You weren't even sure if your husband loved you anymore. Your relationship wasn't the same as when you were first married two years ago.
These days, all you really wanted was for him to come home, rip your clothes off, and fuck you like he hadn't seen a woman in years. You wanted to feel desired, so badly. You had recently picked up a habit of touching yourself sexually while your husband was away at work. You were so starved.
.....
Autumn had come and gone by this time of the year and it was becoming quite frigid outside. With winter well on the way, you turned on your fireplace in the living room. You didn't really care for the bear skin rug that your husband insisted on having in front of the fireplace, but it wasn't worth the fight to try to get rid of it.
With the fire going, you snuggled up into a cozy sweater and put on some mindless radio station to fill in the silence of the empty house. As you listened to the radio and did some mild tidying about the room, you wondered if you should maybe get a dog, or maybe a cat.
Then the doorbell rang, that's weird. You thought. You seldom had any visitors during the day. You walked over and opened the door.
"Hello, Miss. My name is Willy Wonka! Would you care to sample some of my chocolate on this fine day?"
"Fine day? It's freezing out there," you said as you were awestruck by this man's beauty, his bright purple coat and milk chocolate-colored top hat added a sort of zany zest to his attractiveness. "um, would you care to come in and warm up for a minute?" you said politely, nodding to his briefcase that you assumed was filled with sweets, adding, "I do love chocolate."
"Why, yes, if you're sure you don't mind." he smiled, and his green eyes were dazzling.
"No, I don't mind at all, sir."
Willy took his hat off, and his curls fell downward in a bit of a mess as he stepped into the warm home. "Thank you, I didn't get your name."
"Oh, I'm y/n. Please, sit down, the fire is going."
"It is quite toasty in here, thank you, y/n." Willy said, taking a seat on the couch closest to the fireplace. “Very interesting choice of a rug, y/n.” he chirped.
“Oh that? My husband insisted on it, it’s so dreadful. But it is rather soft.”
“Hm.” he nodded looking at the luscious, dark colored fur on the floor. He then looked at her, cheerily, “So, would you like to try some?” He picked up his briefcase.
“Of course.” you said with a smile, truly wanting to try some of him instead, but you’d give his candy a chance for now. He was so damn handsome. His hair was gorgeous, you wanted to run your fingers through it, maybe even pull it.
He opened his briefcase in his lap, letting you choose which candy you wanted.
You picked a piece of chocolate, and he told you the name of it, and its special ingredients. You listened to him, but ultimately got lost in his innocent yet sexy eyes. You bit into the treat, and it was rich and velvety sweet as it melted in your mouth. It was absolutely delicious. The best candy you ever had in your life.
“Mr. Wonka, this is perfection, it’s absolutely divine.”
Willy smiled widely, “I’m pleased to hear it. I have only ever hoped that each person that tries my chocolate will have that same reaction.”
He was so genuinely confident and excited about his creation. The passion he had was evident.
“I’ll take every one of this flavor that you have, Mr. Wonka.” you said, taking another delicious bite.
“Wonderful!” he exclaimed, “And please, call me Willy.”
“Willy.” you said, softly. You wanted to moan his name. But how to get there? You improvised. “Um, why don’t you stay for a bit longer? I can put in a pot of tea, if you’d like.”
“That sounds lovely y/n, or should I call you Mrs…”
“Oh, it’s Mrs. Hudson, but you can just call me y/n.” you insisted, hopping up and going to the kitchen heating up some tea. You had to have this man. Cheating was wrong, but your husband would never, ever know. He never wanted sex anymore, but you couldn’t go without it like he did. You were so needy, especially now, after meeting the handsome Mr. Wonka.
You had plenty of time to have Willy fuck you and send him on his way with his payment for the chocolate, all before Mr. Hudson got home. You would have to make Mr. Wonka an offer he couldn’t refuse, much like you couldn’t refuse his delectable sweets.
You carried two cups of steaming, aromatic tea, one for you and one for Willy. You hoped it would warm him up properly.
“Here you are, sir.”
“Why thank you, very kindly, my lady.” he took the teacup from you, and you felt weak in your knees when your hand was briefly brushed by his fingers. You watched as he carefully brought the rim of the cup to his lips, taking a small sip. “Mm, that’s quite good. A perfect cup of tea, y/n.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.” you said, sitting down next to him and taking a sip for yourself. You didn’t know how to get this man naked; you weren’t finding any viable option that wouldn’t be too crude or forward. You felt you were running out of time. You couldn’t let him leave with the risk of never seeing him again. This delightful, beautiful man could not escape you.
“Well, this has been quite the pleasure.” he said, in a farewell tone. He took one last sip of his tea.
You haven’t had the pleasure, yet.
“But I will get out if your hair,” Willy stood up, continuing, “and go about my merry way. Thank you for your-"
“Wait! Willy-" you shot up to your feet as you spoke but couldn’t finish a sentence. You just started into his eyes.
“Yes?” he asked, frowning at you, utterly confused by your behavior.
You didn’t have the words, so you threw yourself at him, kissing him hungrily.
He took ahold of you, and pulled away from the kiss, “Y/n, are you mad?”
“Oh, god! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
“No, it is alright. It was kind of…nice.”
“Yeah? Mr. Wonka, I had an idea of pleasing you the way you pleased me with your chocolate. If you’ll indulge me?”
He raised his eyebrows, “I have to say, I’m intrigued.”
You put your hands on his chest, making him sit back down on the couch. Your hands then went to his fly.
“Whoa! What are you doing?” he asked, panicky.
“Shh-sh. Relax, Willy. Do you like me?”
“Ye-yes.” he trembled with nerves. “I find you very pretty.”
“I really like you. Have you…ever been with a woman before?” You rested your hands on his upper thighs, dangerously close to his member. It was visible through his trousers although he wasn’t even hard yet.
Willy shook his head, “No, ma’am.”
“Awe, don’t be scared. I’ll take care of you, okay. Do you want that, Willy?” You ran your hands slowly around the outline of his cock.
He gulped, watching your hands on his pants, “Yes, I think I would really like that.”
“Good.” You beamed, unzipping his trousers, and pulling his cock out. He was much thicker and longer than your husband. You were excited about being Willy’s first. You wet his cock with your tongue, and sucked him, moaning and slurping as you did so. You wanted him so bad; you sucked his cock like your life depended on it.
A string of “oh oh oh”’s and “mmm’”s fell from Willy’s mouth as you worked over his cock. He writhed on the couch and placed a hand on your head.
He was hard as stone after a moment, and you had been wet since he sat on your couch the first time. “Oh, Willy. Do you feel good, my sweet?”
“Yes,” he panted, his eyes glazed over, “very good.”
You stood up, and dropped your underwear to the ground, kicking them elsewhere. Then, you mounted him. His hands instinctively went to your waist. You reached down, placing his member between your folds. You sank down on him, feeling the intense stretch of your vaginal walls. You moaned in a slight pain initially, because his was larger than your husband, and you had never been with anyone else.
“Are you alright, y/n?”
“Oh, yes, darling, just give me a moment.” you adjusted, and then started to bounce in his lap.
Willy watched you in wonder and awe, then he’d look down to watch your pussy envelope his cock. “Haa, this is incredible.” he moaned, gripping your hips harder.
You quickened your pace. Sinful wet sounds came from your pussy. God, you needed this. The friction alone was titillating, but the tip of his cock would hit your cervix every so often and it was bliss, the whole scenario.
"Oh, y/n!" Willy cried your name over and over again. His hands explored your clothed body, groping your curves.
Damn, it felt so nice to be touched, and his hands were surprisingly big, and he knew how to use them.
You held yourself up with your hands on his shoulders, and slowly rocked back and forth on his cock. You noticed him eyeing your chest. "Unbutton my blouse, Willy."
He bit his lip with an eager gleam in his eyes, and he opened up the front of your blouse, letting your breasts plop out in his face.
Willy's eyes widened, he took his eyes away from your tits to look up in your eyes, "May I feel them?" he asked with a soft whimper.
"Yes, absolutely." you huffed, taking his hands and clapping them onto your naked breasts.
He gently squeezed and kneaded your breasts, then rolled your nipples between his fingers.
He was so sweet, and so curious about your body. It was so hot. You wanted to get off, you hoped to cum all over his dick. You held onto his arms firmly and rode him hard. His cock pounded away at your walls wildly, and you contracted your pussy around his girth.
"Ah! Fuck this is so good! I'm gonna...I'm gonna come!"
"Oh, oh!" Willy held your waist, and you felt his cock twitch inside you.
Your tummy swirled, and your legs went limp as you came.
"What's happening?" Willy cried, "What is this?" You felt him shoot ropes of his milky cum inside of you.
You took his worried face in your hands, "You're alright, my candy man. You had an orgasm. It's a wonderful thing."
"Oh," he panted, "yes, I suppose it is. A fantastic thing! Gosh, y/n, that felt like chocolate tastes, and chocolate is the best thing in the world!" he was so excited, like he'd discovered something that no one else had experienced before.
You giggled, "Well, I'm flattered, Willy." you felt hot and sweaty, you ran your hand down the back of your neck. You felt Willy's eyes on your tits.
"Your breasts, they are absolutely beautiful." he took them in his hands, just admiring the fullness of them.
You felt your pussy throb at the sight. Your husband never paid much attention to your body, but Willy seemed to be enthralled by you. You noticed how the glow of the fire highlighted his cocoa-colored curls. It was so pretty, his hair looked like the work of a master chocolatier. You ran your fingers through it, feeling the silkiness of his glorious mane.
"Can we do it again?" he asked you, then nodded to the floor, "There? On the bear skin rug? It would be comfortable for you."
"You're so thoughtful. Fuck me again, Willy Wonka. Pound me into the floor if you must."
Willy smiled like a kid on Christmas morning and hoisted you up and then carefully placed you down on the rug.
The fur was plush and soothing on your back. You put your arms up by your head to get comfy.
Willy ran his hands down your body. He looked at you like you were a gift he had been waiting for. "You are so beautiful. Your husband does not know how lucky he is."
"That's sweet, Willy, but let's not mention my husband."
He nodded, "Right." Then, he dipped down, pressing his lips to your stomach.
"Mm." you moaned, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation. You could feel Willy's semen dripping out of you. You wanted more.
Willy left small wet kisses down passed your navel, lower and lower, and you couldn't help but push his head down where you needed him most.
"How do I do this, y/n? Is it like... licking a lollipop?" he asked, naively.
You smiled at him and said, "Yes, kind of. Like a sucker with a chewy center...but you're not in a big hurry to get to the center. You're just trying to enjoy the flavor on the outside."
He took a second to ponder over what you had said, then he nodded, "Okay, got it."
He was a quick learner. He lapped steadily on your clit; his pacing was perfect, not too fast, not too slow. He must have had lots of suckers in his life.
"You can use the tip of your tongue also, Willy." you whimpered through the pleasure.
"Oh, okay." he answered, his voice muffled as he didn't move away from your pussy as he spoke.
The vibrations from his voice sent tingles through your body. That coupled with Willy massaging your clit with his tongue and letting the tip dance between your folds, led you to your second orgasm. You cried out in ecstasy. "Willy Wonka, you are a god!"
"No, I'm just a chocolate maker." he said, nonchalantly. He then sat on his knees, his hand around his cock. He ran the tip of his cock along the joint of your wet folds, coating himself in your cum.
"Ooh." you moaned, tucking your fingers into the furry rug as firmly as you could.
Willy slid into you, then back out. "Ha, you're so wet."
"Fuck me hard, Willy." you purred.
With that, he shoved his cock into you, bucking his hips roughly. His hips smacked your skin with each thrust. He put his whole length into you. He gripped your thighs and started to get faster.
You squeezed him with your thighs, and he grew more confident in what he was doing and picked up a rhythm. You watched his handsome face scrunch up as he worked his hips, his thick brows furrowing in both pleasure and concentration.
You wondered what your husband would do if he knew that the candy man stopped by and made you come on the bear skin rug he loved so much. Oh, the risk was worth it! For Willy was perhaps better at sex than making chocolate.
@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss
@chalametbich
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pucksandpower · 29 days
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Something Sweet
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: the story of your relationship … as told through gelato (in honor of Charles opening an ice cream shop)
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The warm spring sun beats down on your face as you stroll along the winding streets of Monaco, gelato in hand. You savor each sweet bite, the rich hazelnutty flavor melting across your tongue.
This is bliss.
You just moved here to attend university and every day feels like a dream come true exploring your new home principality.
The picturesque buildings with their sun-baked stucco walls and colorful tiled roofs line the narrow alleyways. Locals bustle about, chatting rapidly in French as scooters whiz by. The air carries a tang of salt from the glittering Mediterranean just beyond the palace ramparts.
You could get used to this.
Suddenly, a body careens around the corner, slamming right into you. You stumble backward as the gelato goes flying, splattering across the quaint cobblestones in a sticky mess.
“Oh mon dieu, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” A frantic voice rings out as a pair of strong hands steady you before you can topple over completely.
You look up, slightly dazed, into a pair of warm green eyes filled with concern. The man is clad in athletic shorts and a snug t-shirt, damp with sweat from an obvious run. Tousled chestnut hair flops across his forehead in an effortlessly tousled way.
He’s … incredibly handsome.
Like, stupid levels of handsome.
“I’m fine, really,” you stammer out, feeling your cheeks flush as his hands linger almost ... protectively on your arms. “Just clumsy me dropping my gelato.”
He grimaces, following your gaze to the melting puddle. “I’m such an idiot, let me replace that for you.” His face is the picture of remorse as he gently releases his grip.
You wave him off with an awkward chuckle. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal ...”
But he’s already shaking his head adamantly. “No, no I insist. That looked delicious and it’s entirely my fault.” He shoots you a lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “I know this amazing little place that makes the best gelato in Monaco. My treat to make up for barreling into you like that.”
You can’t help but be charmed by his earnestness as you nod slowly in acceptance. “Well, when you put it like that ...”
“Perfect!” He beams at you, that bright smile crinkling the corners of his eyes in the most delightful way. “I’m Charles, by the way.”
You introduce yourself as well as Charles begins leading you deeper into the winding backstreets, clearly knowing exactly where he’s going. You can’t help stealing sidelong glances at him as you walk, admiring the strong muscles of his arms and shoulders visible through his fitted shirt.
Finally, he ducks into a tiny alleyway, stopping before an unassuming doorway you surely would have just passed right by. A faded sign hangs above reading Gelatomania in curling script.
“This place is my favorite,” Charles confides in a conspiratorial murmur as he holds the door for you. “Family-run for generations and miles better than any of the touristy places.”
You step inside and are immediately enveloped in a thick, sugary aroma that makes your mouth water. A few little metal tables with rickety chairs are squeezed into the compact space, but it’s the immaculate glass cases lining the walls that draw your eye.
Filled with every flavor imaginable, the gelato looks utterly divine — from naturally green pistachio to decadent chocolate hazelnut to tangy lemon. An older woman with a grandmotherly face greets Charles like an old friend in rapid Italian from behind the counter.
He responds easily in kind before turning back to you. “What’ll it be? I recommend the hazelnut again if you liked your first one.”
You nod and watch, utterly charmed, as Charles places your order for a fresh hazelnut gelato with a deferential “per favore” and that knee-weakening smile of his. He gets a simple vanilla for himself before paying and leading you over to a little iron table outside in a sliver of sunshine.
You take your first bite and … oh my god. This is gelato from the heavens themselves. You can’t contain the downright blissful moan that escapes your lips as the divinely creamy, rich concoction melts across your tongue.
“Good, right?” Charles looks incredibly pleased at your rapturous reaction as he digs into his own treat with gusto.
“This might be the single most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” you admit fervently between increasingly enthusiastic licks and bites. “How have I survived this long without knowing this place existed?”
Charles throws his head back with a full-bellied laugh at your passionate proclamation. God, even his laugh is unfairly attractive ...
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he grins around a mouthful of velvety vanilla. “I’ve been coming here since before I could walk. Quickly became my favorite gelato spot.”
“You’ve lived here a while then?” You ask between savoring bites of the impossibly luscious confection. “I only just moved for university.”
Charles nods as he licks a stray drip from his thumb. “Yeah, born and raised a few streets over actually.”
There’s a slight lull as you both focus on thoroughly demolishing your gelato for a few contented minutes, exchanging occasional muffled hums of sheer delight. The warm sun filtering through the awning casts a soft golden glow over the little alleyway, lending everything a dreamlike haze of perfection.
“So beyond being from here, do you have any exciting hobbies or interests?” You ask eventually, dragging the conversation back into the open.
“Well ...” Charles’ expression morphs into one of almost sheepish amusement as he leans back in his rickety chair. “You could say my hobby is also kind of my job. I’m actually a Formula 1 driver, believe it or not.”
You damn near choke on your next bite as his words register. “You’re what? As in ... a race car driver? In Formula 1? Seriously?”
There’s no way this stunning man is being truthful. Sure, he looks like he could be some kind of athlete with that perfectly toned physique. But a literal professional race car driver? The thought is almost too crazy to be believed.
Charles just laughs again at your dumbfounded reaction, clearly used to this response as he nods. “Seriously! I compete for Ferrari if you follow the races at all?”
You think you might pass out from shock as everything clicks into place — the athletic build, the way people seemed to stare as he passed them on the street, the laid-back confidence and easy smile of someone incredibly comfortable in their own skin ...
“Oh my god, you’re ... you’re Charles freaking Leclerc, aren’t you?” You gape at him in abject disbelief. “As in, the guy literally plastered on the huge billboard across from my apartment? Leading the championship? Incredibly talented and famous?”
He lets out an almost bashful chuckle at your rapid-fire incredulous questioning, shrugging one broad shoulder. “Well, I don’t know about incredibly talented or famous. But yes, that’s me — just your average local race car driver currently making an absolute mess while eating gelato.”
Here you sit, having just shared an utterly divine dessert while shamelessly ogling one of the most popular and well-known athletes in the damn world … and he’s acting like it’s absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Like you’re just two regular people enjoying a sweet treat together on a sunny day.
“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation right now,” you murmur, shaking your head slowly. “Do you have any idea how many people would kill to literally just ... sit across from you like this while you eat mediocre gas station ice cream, much less the world’s best gelato? I’m … stunned you’re so nonchalant about this whole thing.”
Charles merely flashes you a self-deprecating grin as he pops the last bite of cone into his mouth. “Well, to me you’re not some screaming fangirl, but just a lovely new friend I enjoy gelato with. Though my ego certainly appreciates the compliments.”
He winks at you impishly and you feel an unwitting smile tugging at the corners of your own lips despite your lingering disbelief. You suppose being surrounded by such incredible wealth and luxury every day in Monaco, Charles likely doesn’t register it anymore. Not to mention the clearly down-to-earth personality he seems to possess given that genuine humility.
The hours just seem to slip effortlessly by then as the two of you continue to chat and laugh and bask in the perfect afternoon contentment of the moment. Charles regales you with ridiculous behind-the-scenes stories about increasingly crazy bets with his friends and crew during the season. You share equally hilarious tales of your own coming-of-age mishaps as an overeager teenager.
At some point, you both reach for your long-empty dishes simultaneously, fingers brushing in a spark of contact that sends your pulse stuttering. Charles doesn’t pull back, letting his hand linger outrageously close to yours as his warm gaze stays locked intensely on your face.
You try to swallow past a suddenly dry throat as the atmosphere shifts abruptly, suddenly heavy with the hot crackle of unmistakable chemistry and unspoken tension. But then, just like that, the moment passes as quickly as it came.
Your phone buzzes loudly in your pocket with a text, the notification startling you both back to reality. Charles sits back, clearing his throat slightly as you pull your hand away to quickly check the message.
It’s from your roommate asking when you’ll be home for dinner and if you need her to start cooking.
You glance up at Charles with an apologetic grimace. “I should probably head back. I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten.”
He blinks rapidly before seeming to visibly shake himself. “Right, of course! Time really got away from us, didn’t it?”
You stand as Charles rises smoothly to his feet as well, shoving both hands casually in his pockets. “So ... I had a really great time with you today,” he says carefully, something almost hesitant flickering across his face. “And I’d love a chance to take you out again sometime soon, if you’re interested? Maybe grab dinner when I’m back in town?”
Your breath catches in your throat at the unmistakable request for an actual date. With Charles freaking Leclerc no less ...
Tamping down your sudden nerves, you nod slowly as a shy smile blossoms on your lips. “I’d really like that,” you admit truthfully. “Let’s definitely do dinner whenever you’re free.”
His whole expression brightens immediately at your affirmation, lips stretching in a wide grin of pure delight. “Perfect! I’ll be back from my next race in just over a week then. How about exchanging numbers so I can let you know as soon as I’ve returned?”
You quickly rattle off your number as Charles punches it into his phone before doing the same for you. As if sealing some unspoken deal, he sticks out his hand to shake yours, that warm roughened grip lingering perhaps a moment longer than strictly necessary.
“I’ll text you soon then,” Charles murmurs intently, that spark of heat flickering in his eyes again. “Promise me you’ll say yes this time.”
You can only nod mutely, mouth gone bone-dry at the pointed words and heated look washing over you. Charles maintains that blistering eye contact and heart-stalling grip on your palm for another loaded handful of seconds, leaving you dizzy with giddy anticipation.
Then, just like that, he releases your hand with one final squeeze before taking a step back, seemingly satisfied by your stunned agreement. Charles shoots you one last lingering look and crooked grin before turning to stride easily back the way you came.
You remain rooted in place for a long moment, utterly dazed by the entire surreal scenario as you watch his broad shoulders and narrow waist disappear down the narrow alleyway.
Today started out as any other nothing-out-of-the-ordinary spring day in your new home. But now … now you have an actual date scheduled with an unbelievably charming and disarmingly down-to-earth racing superstar.
A giddy giggle bubbles up from deep in your chest as reality finally settles in. Who could have ever predicted that bumping into your new acquaintance — quite literally — would lead to not only discovering the most heavenly gelato on the planet, but lining up a date with an internationally famous athlete?
Suddenly, your bright future studying in Monaco just got about ten thousand times more interesting …
***
The week passes by in a blur of anticipation after your initial meeting with Charles. You can barely focus during lectures, your mind constantly wandering to that charming grin and those warm eyes crinkling at the corners whenever he laughed.
Finally, the evening you’ve been eagerly awaiting arrives. You’ve just finished getting ready — pulling on a flowy sundress and brushing out your hair one last time — when your phone buzzes with a new text.
I’m outside whenever you’re ready for our date night. Looking forward to seeing you again 😘
You can’t bite back your giddy smile as you quickly reply that you’re heading out before taking one last steadying breath.
It’s just Charles … the internationally famous and absurdly handsome Formula 1 driver you’ve somehow managed to snag a date with.
No big deal at all.
The evening air carries a pleasantly cool breeze as you exit your apartment building, scanning the idling line of vehicles for Charles’ car. You spot him immediately, leaning against the gleaming metallic side of what you now recognize as an eye-wateringly expensive Ferrari.
Charles looks … unfairly gorgeous. He’s shed his athletic wear in favor of a simple white linen shirt and tailored slacks that somehow make him appear even more effortlessly suave. His hair is artfully tousled and damn if those clothes don’t accentuate every hard plane and corded muscle of his built frame.
You must be staring because suddenly Charles is pushing off from the car and straightening to his full height, those intense eyes crinkling warmly as soon as they land on you.
“You look stunning,” he murmurs appreciatively once you’ve drawn closer, making a show of trailing his gaze slowly up and down your figure. You’re abruptly grateful for the dusky twilight hiding your furious blush at the blatant admiration in his tone.
“Thanks,” you manage to get out without your voice shaking too noticeably. “You don’t look half bad yourself, race car man.”
Charles throws back his head with one of those deep-bellied laughs you’re quickly becoming addicted to. “Why thank you, gelato girl.” He shoots you a wink before surprising you by gallantly offering his arm. “Shall we?”
You take it without hesitation, reveling in the solid warmth of his bicep pressed against your side as Charles leads you to the waiting glossy black sports car. He opens the door for you like an old-fashioned gentleman, closing it carefully once you’re tucked inside the buttery leather interior.
The engine roars to life with a powerful rumble and you can’t resist shooting Charles an impressed look as he deftly maneuvers out onto the street.
“You know, I’m starting to think this little hobby of yours might not be too bad of a gig,” you tease lightly, waving a hand at the sleek interior compartment.
“I can’t complain,” Charles volleys back with a crooked grin, seamlessly navigating the tight turns of the old city. “Sometimes they even let me drive in circles really fast just for fun.”
You roll your eyes at his retort, but can’t quite wipe the smile off your face as Charles guns the engine, the car surging forward in a burst of speed and power. Clearly the man knows how to leverage any opportunity to show off those expert driving skills … not that you mind one bit.
Eventually, Charles pulls up in front of an unassuming doorway you never would have noticed tucked down a quiet side street. The understated sign above simply reads Trattoria Giovanni.
“This place has been run by the same Italian family for over fifty years,” Charles explains as he holds the door for you. “Best authentic cuisine in the city, but you would never find it unless you knew where to look.”
The interior appears to have been plucked directly from a rustic Tuscan villa — burnished wooden beams criss-crossing the curved ceilings and terracotta tiles underfoot. You breathe in deeply, savoring the mouthwatering aromas of garlic, tomato sauce, and fresh bread wafting from the open kitchen.
An older man with a thick mustache and crisp white apron greets Charles immediately in fluent Italian, ushering you both back to a cozy alcove table secluded in the very rear. He pours you both generous glasses of deep red wine before disappearing again with a conspiratorial wink in your direction.
“So, how was your race?” You ask between sips once you and Charles are alone, genuinely curious about the difficult career he’s managed to carve out.
He shrugs one broad shoulder almost dismissively. “Decent enough, I suppose. Grabbed another podium finish, but didn’t quite have the pace for the win.” There’s no disappointment or frustration in his tone as he speaks, just a simple statement of fact.
“I’m endlessly in awe that you treat accomplishments like that so casually,” you admit with a shake of your head. “Finishing in the top three in Formula 1 seems like the kind of thing most people would be over the moon about.”
Charles lets out a low chuckle at that, leaning towards you over the small table with eyes twinkling mischievously. “Well maybe I need to find a new way to impress someone like you then.”
You open your mouth to respond with a playful retort of your own, but Charles’ gaze has already strayed to somewhere past your shoulder.
“Ah, perfect timing then. Here’s Giovanni himself with our orders.”
Sure enough, the older man you spotted earlier bustles up with a tray overflowing with piping hot plates of food. He doles out the dishes methodically while rattling off a stream of explanations about preparations and ingredients that have clearly been passed down for many generations.
Everything looks and smells utterly divine — from the heaping bowl of glistening spaghetti blanketed in a simmering tomato sauce to the golden-baked chicken drenched in rosemary and olive oil. The endlessly affable Giovanni even sets down a small ceramic dish full of creamy pale cheese, patting Charles on the shoulder.
“The burrata for you and your lady friend. Freshly made this morning by my wife,” he declares proudly before whisking himself away again.
For the next blissful hour or two, you and Charles completely lose yourselves in this veritable feast for the senses. You savor each and every decadent bite — moaning around the pillowy strands of spaghetti and tearing off chunks of the crusty, herb-brushed breads to soak up the savory juices.
Charles, for his part, dives into the meal with just as much enthusiasm, occasionally reaching over to snag a bite off of your plate until you resort to smacking his wandering fork away between fits of laughter.
Stuffed and utterly content, you both eventually push away your long-cleared dishes to nurse the final sips of your wine as the evening stretches languorously on. You fall into these simple moments like an old habit by now — trading comfortable silences and contented looks between impassioned recounts of childhood anecdotes or musings about life.
Finally, as the candles on the small wooden tables begin to gutter and wane, Charles summons over your waiter to settle the check with a few murmured words and one of those knee-weakening smiles. Rising smoothly, he extends his hand in a wordless invitation for you to join him back out into the balmy evening.
This time, instead of heading for the car, Charles tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow before choosing a new direction — down a maze of narrow streets until you finally emerge along the harbor’s edge. Strings of twinkling lights reflect off the lapping waves while the soft strains of background music filter out from somewhere nearby.
“Feel like grabbing a little dessert to walk off that incredible meal?” Charles asks in a low murmur, bumping your shoulder conspiratorially.
You shoot him an incredulous look even as you nod. “You mean in addition to the literal feast we both just had?”
Charles tugs you closer to his side until your hips graze together as you match strides. “There’s always room for gelato,” he counters with an arched brow. “Besides, when in Monaco ...”
Any further protests die on your lips as Charles guides you around another tight corner to reveal that familiar cheerful gelato shop from your initial meeting. The old woman behind the counter greets you both like regulars already, no doubt thanks to Charles’ frequent patronage.
You maneuver through the small line until it’s your turn to order. “I think I’ll go with the tiramisu flavor this time,” you decide, mouth already watering at the prospect of that rich coffee and creamy goodness. “What about you? Mixing it up or still sticking with the basics?”
Charles shakes his head resolutely as he hands over a few crisp bills to pay for your treats. “Trust me, a heaping helping of simple vanilla is just as gratifying as all those overly complicated flavor combinations.”
You balk at his slander, bumping his shoulder with your own without any real heat. “How dare you insult my incredible palette like that?” You glare at him in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I have some of the most refined gelato taste in all of Monaco now.”
“Oh yeah?” Charles tips his chin down with a challenging smirk twisting his full lips. “Well what if I told you that vanilla is scientifically proven to be the most popular and beloved flavor in existence?”
“By who? Basic boring people?” You volley back mercilessly, eagerly leaning into the playful banter now. “If anything, those findings just demonstrated how sadly uncreative society at large is.”
Charles barks out a booming laugh as he grabs your hand and tugs you back out of the shop, gelato in the other. “You heathen! We’re clearly going to need to educate you on the finer points of flavor appreciation.”
Your eyes narrow dangerously even as you let yourself be lead to a nearby bench overlooking the gently lapping waves. “Oh, you’re on, Leclerc. Let’s see if your vanilla snobbery holds up after a taste of tiramisu heaven.”
You scoop up an exaggeratedly generous spoonful of the divinely rich, creamy gelato and make a show of savoring it with overstated moans of delight. “Oh my god, this is so good. Here, you have to try this! It’s life-changing.”
Charles wrinkles his nose even as you wave the spoonful enticingly in front of him. “Nice try but I would never cheat on vanilla!”
The two of you devolve into helpless laughter at that point, dissolving into breathless giggles over the ridiculous debate getting more outrageous by the minute. Finally, you relent in the battle, settling back into the cool metal of the bench and turning your face up to the inky sea of stars glittering overhead.
“You’re right though — sometimes simple really is best,” you admit finally in a softer tone, slowly licking another sweet bite off your spoon.
Charles hums in agreement next to you, shuffling closer until your arms brush together with body heat and contact. “The classics never go out of style.”
The next comfortable silence stretches out between you as you take your time savoring your treats while simultaneously drinking in the breathtaking view laid out before you. The water laps almost hypnotically at the shoreline, twinkling reflection of docked yachts bobbing gently on the calm surface.
A breeze skates across your bare arms, raising a faint ripple of goosebumps along your skin. Charles notices immediately, shifting even nearer until he can shrug out of the lightweight jacket he had been wearing.
Without a word, he swings the soft fabric around your shoulders, tucking it securely around your front. You burrow instinctively into the material, the lingering body heat and remnants of his cologne wrapping you up in an cocoon of soothing warmth and intoxicating comfort.
With your free hand, you toy idly with the collar until Charles’ arm comes up to curl around your shoulders, effectively enveloping you into his solid frame. You let your cheek tip onto the firm muscle of his arm as Charles squeezes you closer with a contented exhale.
Time becomes meaningless suspended in that perfect sea-side bubble, waves flowing rhythmically while you enjoy every last savored bite of your melting treats. You let the quiet inevitability of dropping your head onto Charles’ shoulder wash over you, his familiar cologne invading your senses until your entire world narrows to just him.
When Charles polishes off the final bite of his cone and you go to shift away, another cool gust skitters across the harbor. He tightens the arm curved around you, making no move to let you up or leave the cozy haven you’ve made.
“I could get used to evenings like this, you know,” he murmurs eventually, lips brushing the top of your head. “Just taking it slow and savoring each other’s company without a single worry or care beyond where to find the best gelato.”
You hum in sleepy agreement, luxuriating in the casual intimacy of having Charles wrapped so protectively around you. Part of you can scarcely believe how instantaneous and natural this connection has blossomed between you already. But another part feels like you’ve finally found your soul’s missing piece slotting seamlessly into place after stumbling around lost and incomplete for so long without ever realizing it.
The two of you remain suspended in that perfect, tranquil bubble for what could be minutes or hours more. You’ve completely lost track of any sense of time beyond the lullaby of the gentle waves and occasional murmur of Charles’ breathing ruffling your hair.
Eventually though, his stirring signals a slow return to the real world as Charles regretfully extricates himself from your entwined position with clear reluctance.
“I should probably get you back before your roommate starts to worry,” he says remorsefully as he slides off the bench to offer you a steadying hand up.
You accept it without hesitation, but can’t resist clinging to his jacket still cocooned around your shoulders, unwilling to shrug off that lingering cocoon of comfort and safety just yet. Charles notices, allowing a tiny grin to quirk one side of his mouth upwards as he takes in your refusal to part with it.
“Looks good on you,” he murmurs with unmistakable heat in those hypnotizing eyes. “I may have to let you hang on to that one for a while.”
Your mouth goes abruptly dry at the blatant implications in his tone, but you manage a coy smile in return as you turn to make your way back towards wherever Charles has his car crookedly parked.
The streets are all but abandoned by the time you arrive at the discreet entrance of your apartment building. Charles hesitates a split second before rounding the front of the gleaming Ferrari to face you properly on the quiet sidewalk.
“Thank you for an incredible evening,” you say honestly, gazing up at his silhouette in the dim glow of the streetlamps. “I don’t think I can even put into words how special you’ve managed to make me feel these past couple weeks.”
His expression softens instantly. One calloused palm comes up to tenderly cup your jaw, tilting your face up towards his with feather-light reverence.
“The pleasure has been all mine, I assure you,” Charles rumbles in a low tone that steals your breath away. “I don’t think you’ll ever realize just how remarkable you are, ma belle.”
Your eyes flutter shut without conscious thought as his nose brushes yours. Charles’ lips glide torturously against your cheek leaving a blazing trail to the very corner of your mouth.
The softest, most infinitely gentle press of satin flesh on flesh and then he’s pulling back — his ragged exhale warm and intoxicating against your tingling lips. You chase his retreat on instinct, but Charles is already withdrawing further with clear reluctance.
“I’m afraid I don’t trust myself to take things slow quite yet if I stay,” he murmurs in a strained rasp, pupils blown wide and dark. “But I do hope you’ll allow me to make this our new gelato tradition from now on ...”
It takes you several faltering attempts to find your voice again, chest rising and falling rapidly in the aftermath of that lightning bolt of affection. Finally, you manage a jerky nod, sliding one trembling hand over his where it still cups your cheek.
“I want that more than anything,” you confess in a hushed tone. “Just ... promise me we’ll see each other soon.”
He releases a shuddering breath of unbridled relief, dipping his forehead to rest against yours. “Soon,” Charles vows lowly. “I promise.”
You stare up into his earnest eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Charles’ lips quirk in that lopsided grin you already adore so much. “I’m counting on it.”
With obvious reluctance, he finally steps away, snagging your hand to press one last searing kiss to your knuckles that has your heart stuttering all over again. Charles holds your gaze as you carefully back away towards the entrance, unwilling or unable to fully turn your back until the very last moment.
You chance a glance over your shoulder as you reach the front doors. Charles is still there, unmoving in a pool of streetlight beside his idling Ferrari, hands shoved in his pockets as he tracks your every step until you’ve slipped safely inside.
Exhaling a shuddering breath, you lean back against the cool stone wall, fingers coming up to ghost across your still-tingling lips almost disbelievingly.
When you finally muster the courage to peek through the glass once more, Charles has moved to lean against the side of his car, head tilted back as he stares into the lobby with an unmistakable softness etched across those chiseled features.
You can’t resist pressing your palm to the pane in a gesture you know he’ll recognize. Sure enough, Charles’ intense gaze instantly snaps to lock on you from across the quiet street, expression melting into pure adoration and wonder. His lips shape the same promise he uttered just moments ago — soon — as your own quirk in a delighted smile.
One last impulsive spark of inspiration has you playfully blowing him a single kiss through the barrier between you. Charles catches the invisible token easily, hand flying up to press over that broad chest as he throws back his head with a laugh that you can’t hear but imagine with vivid clarity.
You stand there transfixed, drinking in every last detail of him — the effortless elegance he carries himself with, the striking planes of his handsome face, and those beautiful eyes glittering with a thousand unspoken promises under the streetlamps.
Finally, with your own vow to reunite pulsing between you, Charles slides behind the wheel of his car. The powerful engine roars to life, twin beams from the headlights sweeping up to briefly wash through the windows of the lobby in a silent farewell before he’s peeling away into the night back towards the glittering city center.
You remain at the entrance for several long minutes basking in the memory of Charles’ phantom embrace still clinging to your skin. Only once his Ferrari has faded into the distance do you finally turn towards the elevator up to your apartment — every footstep lighter than air in the wake of an evening that lived up to even your wildest dreams of romantic splendor.
The simple joy and humble pleasure of a perfect scoop of creamy gelato will always hold untold meaning now as the spark marking the start of something beautiful blossoming between you and Charles.
And, as you finally drift off that night with a permanent smile etched across your face, you know without a shadow of a doubt that no flavor in the world could ever compare to the sweet indulgence of a life together just waiting to be savored and explored.
***
The warm spring breeze carries the sweet floral scents of the Brera Botanical Garden through the air as you stroll hand-in-hand with Charles. His fingers are laced through yours, his thumb gently stroking over your knuckles. You can’t help stealing glances at his handsome profile — the defined jawline, those soft kiss-curled lips, those kind green eyes that always seem to be smiling even when the rest of his face isn’t.
“What are you looking at?” Charles says with an amused grin, catching you staring again. You just shake your head and squeeze his hand tighter.
“Nothing. Just admiring the view,” you tease. Charles laughs that bright, infectious laugh of his that never fails to make your heart flutter.
You come to a stop beneath a blossoming cherry tree, pale pink petals floating down around you. Charles turns to face you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“Y/N … there’s something I want to talk to you about,” he begins, suddenly uncharacteristically nervous. You tilt your head curiously. “You know how passionate I am about racing, about Formula 1. It’s been my dream since I was a little boy.”
“Of course,” you nod, unable to stop a small smile. Charles’ love for motorsports is one of the many things you have come to adore about him.
“Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately,” Charles continues, taking both your hands in his. “And I’ve realized that I want to have something else in my life too. A … passion project, you could say. Something that’s away from all the spotlight and pressure.”
Your brow furrows slightly as you try to imagine what he could mean. Charles has spoken before about potentially getting more involved in charity work or environmentalism on top of his racing career. But the almost childlike excitement dancing in his eyes tells you this is something different.
“I’m going to open a gelato shop,” he blurts out finally. You blink dumbly.
“A … gelato shop?” You repeat slowly. Out of all the possibilities, that was definitely not what you were expecting.
“Yes!” Charles grins broadly, clearly delighted by your surprise. “Think about it,Y/N. What’s more perfect than gelato made right here in the heart of Milano? And I’ve already found the ideal location — a little shop just across the street from here. Can’t you just picture it?”
He starts gesturing animatedly, that bright smile never leaving his face as he outlines his grand vision. You can’t help getting caught up in his infectious enthusiasm, even if the idea still seems a bit random.
“I’m going to call it Lec,” Charles says with a proud smile. You let out an undignified snort of laughter.
“Lec? Like your last name?” You shake your head in amusement. He looks almost offended by your reaction.
“No, no, not just my last name,” he corrects you seriously. “Lec as in … our last name. Yours and mine.”
The words hang in the air as realization slowly starts to dawn on you. You open and close your mouth dumbly as Charles takes a deep breath, sliding off the path onto one knee on the ground before you. With shaking hands, he pulls out a small black box from his pocket and flips it open to reveal the most stunning diamond ring you’ve ever seen.
“Y/N Y/L/N … you are my world, my everything,” Charles’ voice is thick with emotion as he gazes up at you. “I cannot imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else by my side. I want to wake up every morning and go to sleep every night with you beside me forever.”
Tears are already welling in your eyes, one hand pressed to your trembling lips as you listen to the beautiful words.
“Will you ...” Charles’ voice catches in his throat and he has to clear it before continuing. “Will you do me the greatest honor and become my wife? Will you marry me?”
The last few words come out in a rush of breath. You’re vaguely aware of several other people in the gardens who’ve stopped to watch, but all you can see is Charles’ face — hopeful and vulnerable and so full of pure adoration for you.
“Yes!” You finally manage to choke out through your joyful tears. “Oh my god, yes! Yes of course I’ll marry you!”
Pure relief and blissful ecstasy bursts across Charles’ face at your answer. With hands trembling just as badly as yours, he eases the glittering ring out of the box and onto your finger where it nestles perfectly, the diamond catching the dappled sunlight.
Before you can even look at it properly, Charles is on his feet again, pulling you into his embrace and spinning you around in a deliriously happy circle. You cling to him, laughing and crying at the same time as he peppers every inch of your face with kisses — your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose.
Finally, inevitably, his mouth finds yours in a long, deep, loving kiss that has your knees feeling weak. You get lost in the warmth of his arms around you, the gentleness of his hands cradling your face, the tenderness of his soft lips moving reverently against yours.
When you finally part, you’re both smiling so much it almost hurts, foreheads pressed together as you share the same breath. Charles brushes away a few stray tears on your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.
“I love you so much, mon cœur,” he murmurs softly. You mouth the words back to him before stealing another lingering kiss.
Hand-in-hand once more, Charles leads you out of the botanical gardens and across the street. You come to a stop in front of a quaint yet sizable storefront, the windows covered in brown paper and a faded For Lease sign still hanging crookedly in the door.
“Here it is,” Charles says, gesturing up at the building with undisguised pride. “What do you think?”
You take it in slowly, trying to envision what the space might look like once renovated and filled with cozy seating and the alluring scents of freshly-made gelato.
You picture the two of you working side-by-side behind the counter when Charles doesn’t have a race, laughing and bantering as you serve up delicious treats for smiling customers.
It’s such an endearingly normal, domestic dream compared to the fast-paced frenzy of the Formula 1 lifestyle. But standing here with your new fiancé, it feels absolutely perfect.
“I think … I think it’s going to be incredible,” you lean into Charles’ side and wrap your arms around his trim waist. He responds by kissing your temple and pulling you closer.
“Just think,” he says happily, his warm breath ruffling your hair. “We’ll be the owners of the best little gelateria in all of Milano.
“Sounds like heaven,” you smile. “Just be sure to make plenty of hazelnut and tiramisu for me.”
“Done and done,” he promises solemnly. “Though you know vanilla will always be number one in my book.”
“Oh really?” You arch an eyebrow challengingly. “Is that so?”
Without warning, you loop your arms around Charles’ neck and pull him in for a long, lingering kiss. You can feel him melting into your embrace, his arms snaking securely around your waist.
When you finally manage to pull apart again, you’re both slightly flushed and out of breath. Charles’ usually perfectly tousled hair is charmingly mussed from running your fingers through it. He looks at you with such naked affection and desire that your heart flutters.
“You know what?” He murmurs huskily, resting his forehead against yours. “I take it back. You’re definitely my favorite flavor. And I can’t wait to start this next chapter with you, mon amour.”
And with that promise lingering sweetly between you, Charles takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply once more, pouring every ounce of his devotion into the embrace.
You can taste forever on his lips.
When you finally part, grinning giddily at each other, Charles takes your hand and leads you back towards your next adventure. Whatever lies ahead, you know you’ll take it on fearlessly and joyously, side-by-side with the man you love more than anything in this world.
***
The reception hall is a whirlwind of joy and celebration as you take in the scene, your heart overflowing with love and happiness. The elegant decorations, the twinkling lights, and the smiling faces of your loved ones surrounding you all blur together in a beautiful haze.
You can scarcely believe this day has finally arrived — the day you’ve dreamed of for so long.
You turn to Charles, his warm green eyes sparkling with so much love, and your breath catches in your throat. He looks devastatingly handsome in his perfectly tailored tuxedo, his million-watt smile making your knees go weak.
This incredible man is now your husband.
“Hey you,” he murmurs, taking your hand and brushing his lips across your knuckles. “Having fun, mon amour?”
A joyful laugh escapes your lips as you nod enthusiastically. “More than I ever thought possible. I’m just … I’m so happy, Charles. I can’t believe we’re actually married!”
He chuckles, that rich laugh that never fails to make you melt. “Believe it, Mrs. Leclerc. You’re stuck with me forever now.” His expression softens as he cups your cheek tenderly. “I love you so much. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
You lean into his touch, savoring the moment. “I love you too, Mr. Leclerc. More than anything.”
A throat clears behind you, and you whirl around to see Arthur, your new brother-in-law, grinning mischievously.
“If you two lovebirds are done making everyone else nauseous, it’s time to cut the cake!” He teases, jerking his head towards the lavish gelato cake that sits on the dessert table.
Charles throws his head back with a laugh. “You’re just jealous that you don’t have someone as amazing as my wife to make gooey eyes at.”
Arthur rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Whatever. Get your butts over there before I eat the whole thing myself.”
With a wink at you, Charles takes your hand and leads you towards the dessert table, the crowd of guests parting like the Red Sea to let you through. Your heart does a little flip as the magnificent gelato cake comes into view — a towering masterpiece of creamy gelato in vanilla, hazelnut, and tiramisu, all artfully swirled together and decorated with fresh fruit and chocolate shavings.
“It’s perfect,” you whisper in awe, giving Charles’ hand a squeeze.
He pulls you into his side with a content smile. “Not as perfect as you.”
The crowd applauds as you approach the cake, and a chorus of cheers and wolf whistles rises up. Straightening your shoulders with a grin, you pick up the gleaming cake knife and lock eyes with Charles, suddenly feeling bold.
“Ready to do this, husband?” You ask with a teasing lilt.
His eyes blaze with undisguised desire. “More than ready, wife.”
Together, you slice into the towering gelato cake, the creamy filling oozing out and already making your mouth water. Once you have a generous slice on a plate, you scoop up a spoonful and lock eyes with Charles again, arching an eyebrow in challenge.
His pupils dilate as he catches your meaning, a low growl rumbling in his throat. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, mon cœur.”
“Who says I can’t finish it?” You take a step closer, holding the spoonful of gelato up temptingly.
Charles tips his head back with a groan. “You’re killing me here.”
“Good thing you have me to bring you back to life then,” you quip, pressing the spoon to his lips.
He opens obediently, letting you slide the gelato into his mouth with agonizing slowness. His eyelids flutter shut as the flavors explode over his tongue, and he actually moans — deep and guttural and utterly sinful.
A choked sound comes from somewhere in the crowd. “Oh please, get a room!” Joris, Charles’ best friend and best man, calls out with a mixture of amusement and mortification.
Charles doesn’t even open his eyes, simply raising one middle finger in Joris’ direction as he savors the last of the gelato. When his tongue finally darts out to catch a stray bit on his lips, you feel an unexpected flare of heat low in your belly.
Okay, two can play at this game.
Deliberately holding Charles’ heated gaze, you dip your finger into the gelato drippings on the plate and slowly, so slowly, bring it up to your lips. You let the very tip of your tongue dart out to catch the sticky sweetness, swirling it around luxuriously. His Adam’s apple bobs as he watches you, jaw tense.
That’s it.
You slip your finger into your mouth fully, hollowing out your cheeks as you suck the gelato off with an utterly obscene sound. Charles’ knees actually buckle, and he grips the table behind him for support, pupils blown wide.
“You are so dead,” he growls under his breath, low and dangerous.
Unable to stop yourself, you let out a breathy giggle, drunk with a dizzying cocktail of desire and sheer bliss. Charles takes a half step closer, his eyes burning into yours. You quickly scoop up another fingerful of gelato, desperate to keep pushing those buttons and draw out that delicious intensity.
But before you can bring it to your lips, quick as a flash, Charles is on you. He drags you flush against his solid form, his free hand cupping the back of your neck to angle your mouth up to his. The scorching kiss steals the breath from your lungs, leaving you dizzy and clinging to his lapels for purchase.
When he finally breaks away, his eyes are blazing with unconcealed want.
“You missed a spot,” he rasps.
Then he’s ducking his head, and with one torturously slow lick, he clears the stray bit of gelato from the tip of your nose. The heat of his tongue on your overly sensitive skin makes you whimper.
The catcalls and whistles from your guests fade into white noise as you melt against your husband, lost in the endless depths of his hungry gaze. Screw being appropriate — you’ll give them all a show to remember if you have to.
“Fuck, I love you,” Charles rumbles, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire.
Before you can respond, he’s kissing you again — deep and thorough and all-consuming. You sigh into his mouth, bunching the fine material of his tuxedo jacket in your fists to pull him even closer. His hand slides from your neck into your hair, cradling your head reverently as he pours every ounce of his love and passion into the kiss.
An eternity later, he breaks away with a ragged breath, resting his forehead against yours. “I think it’s time to get out of here, don’t you?”
You can only nod breathlessly, already imagining the deliciously wicked things he has in store. As if in a trance, you allow him to take your hand and lead you towards the exit, shouting and wolf whistles following in your wake.
Just before you slip out of the hall, you hear Pierre Gasly’s teasing voice behind you.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, you two!”
Charles pauses only long enough to call over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“But there’s nothing you wouldn’t do!”
Then he’s sweeping you into his arms with a playful growl, carrying you into your new life together as man and wife. Peals of laughter and cheers chase you down the hall, but you only have eyes for each other in this perfect moment.
You’re married to the love of your life. You have forever with this incredible man. And if the wedding is anything to go by, forever is going to be deliciously amazing.
Literally.
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yuujispinkhair · 5 months
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The Summoning
Sukuna is the King of Curses, a God, an almighty being who answers to no one. But why does it feel like some divine force is pulling him towards you? -> This is part of my Blog Anniversary Event (closed). @lucifers-baby-girl requested the song "The Summoning" by Sleep Token.
Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff Word Count: 1k Warnings: 18+, implied sexual intercourse, but no explicit descriptions. Dub-con at first (Sukuna is the King of Curses and orders Reader to give herself to him. But they gradually develop a loving relationship.) All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.
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He doesn't know what it is that makes him come back over and over again to this small hut in the middle of the forest. He stumbled upon it weeks ago after burning down a village nearby. On his way back to his temple, he found you. You stared at him with wide eyes before you fell to your knees and greeted him respectfully, inquiring how you could serve the great Sukuna-Sama.
And he grinned when he pulled you up and told you exactly how he wanted you to serve your King. There was fear in your eyes, but you gave yourself to him obediently, leading him into your bedroom, slipping out of your clothes, and offering your warm, soft body to him.
He came back to you two days later. And again and again, he keeps coming back.
It's like he is a hunter following a trail of blood that leads him to his prey. And maybe this is quite fitting because he is a hunter, and you, as small and weak as you are next to his huge figure, can only be seen as prey. So fragile in his four muscular arms, so helpless under his heavy body. But why is it then that he feels as if you hold a power over him he never experienced before?
Why does he come here almost every night? Why is he restless when he cannot make it to your hut because he is too busy? Why does he seek your company? Why does it feel as if he needs to be close to you?
At first, it was just a rough meeting of bodies. It was him claiming you, taking what's rightfully his because he is the King of Curses, because he is a God, and he can have whatever and whoever he desires.
But then you asked him if he would like to stay for dinner.
He had laughed, amused by your bravery that you asked the monster to spend more time with you instead of being grateful that he was finished with you and would leave you again.
But he was a man who enjoyed food, and so he stayed and sat there on the floor of your small hut, smirking as he let you serve him the meal you had prepared. To his surprise, it tasted delicious even though it wasn't made of the ingredients he usually consumed.
He let you sit on his lap afterward and petted your hair as if you were a small animal. You didn't flinch when his large hand touched your head. You didn't tremble in fear when his lips trailed over your neck. Not to bite, but to breathe in your scent and to place a possessive kiss on your soft skin.
Maybe he keeps coming back because you are such a mystery to him. Why do you treat him with kindness? Why do you not only willingly offer your body to him but also give him your food and your smiles?
You even hold conversations with him. Another thing Sukuna isn't used to. Uraume is the only one who occasionally talks to him. Really talks to him. Everyone else just grovels before him, asking him for things, wanting something from him. All of them are just begging and praying and getting on his nerves with their demands. A good harvest, protection from their enemies, mercy for their villages. It tires him.
But you hand him a bowl of soup, smile at him and ask, 
"How was your day, Lord Sukuna?"
And he tells you about holding court, about being bored while having to listen to some noblemen trying to get him on their side.
You nod and cock your head, eyeing him curiously, not even shying away from looking directly into all four of his sapphire-colored eyes.
"And did you also do something that brought you joy?"
He blinks before he laughs,
"Being the King of Curses doesn't bring the joy I thought it would. But I am having joy right now."
It is true, and the realization haunts him the whole way back to his temple. Is that it? Is that the reason he keeps visiting you? Because he feels something when he is with you?
He tries to keep his distance after this revelation, disturbed by the thought of being somehow dependent on you.
But he only lasts a week before he finds his way back to your small hut. Not feeling like a hunter following a blood trail, but more like a man pulled here by the power of fate. A man guided by some divine force. As if you are summoning him here by a magic he isn't familiar with.
You open the door with a smile, and that smile grows even bigger when he lifts you up and carries you to your bed. Your lips find his before he is able to claim yours.
It's the same again, just like the last time he met you, bodies entangled in a passionate embrace, lips moving against each other, soft groans filling the small room when Sukuna takes you, your tiny hands caressing his muscular back with a gentleness that almost scares him.
He doesn't feel like leaving your bed after you both found completion. Instead, he wraps his arms around you, all four of them, and pulls you against his broad body, laughing softly at how small you look with your face resting on his chest and your small hand tracing the firm muscles on his stomach, giggling when he lets his mouth down there open to flick his tongue over your fingertips.
"I am glad you came back to me, Sukuna. I was worried. I was scared you were injured or something like that."
His chest fills with a strange warmth. He cannot remember anyone ever being worried about him.
"Don't fear, little one. No one can defeat me."
But as the words leave his lips, he knows he isn't speaking the truth. It is right that no army can defeat him. No King, no God holds power over him. But there is a human woman, soft and warm, snuggled against his chest, who somehow touches his soul and holds his heart in her tiny hands. And for the first time in his life, Sukuna thinks he met someone who could bring him to his knees.
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This was my first time writing Trueform!Sukuna and I hope you liked it aaaaah!! I just feel like the lyrics fit perfectly for a historical Sukuna story, and since I wanted to add the hunter and prey vibe, Trueform!Sukuna worked the best for me.
Thank you so much for the prompt!! I loved writing this!! Please let me know what you think.
Comments and reblogs would be sweet!!
2K notes · View notes
cerezzzita · 2 years
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— aesthetic words to fill up your vocabulary ♡
✦ if you're tired of using the same repetitive words to describe feelings or actions on your writing, here are some aesthetic words that are not frequently used to help you evolve your vocabulary better and also maybe help you with creative titles <3
ABENDROT: the color of the sky while the sun is setting.
ABIENCE: the strong urge to avoid someone or something.
ACHROOUS: colourless.
AEQUOREAL: marine, oceanic.
AESTHETE: someone with deep sensitivity to the beauty of art or nature.
ALIFEROUS: having wings.
AMITY: warmth and heartfelt friendliness in a friendship; mutual understanding and a peaceful relationship.
AMORIST: someone who is in love; someone who writes about love.
AMBROSIAL: fragrant, delicious.
ANTHOMANIA: great love for flowers.
AQUAPHILE: someone who is an enthusiast of all things related to the water.
ARENOCOLOUS: living or burrowing in sand.
ASPERSE: change falsely or with malicious intent; attack the good name and reputation of someone.
ASTERISM: agroup of stars; a constellation; a cluster of stars.
ATTAR: essential oil or perfume obtained from flowers.
AUREATE: golden or gilded; brilliant, splendid.
AURICOMUS: with golden or yellow colored foliage.
AVIOTHIC: the strong desire to be up in the air or to fly.
BALTER: to dance artlessly, without particular grace and/or skill but usually with enjoyment.
BATHIC: pertaining to depths, especially of sea.
BELAMOUR: the one who is loved; a beloved person.
BELLICOSTIC: aggressive, belligerent, warlike.
BENEFICENCE: the quality of being kind or helpful or generous.
BERCEUSE: a quiet song intended to lull a child to sleep.
BLÁFAR: indicating the freshness and beauties of youth or health; attractive and possessing charm.
BRONTIDE: the low rumble of a distant thunder.
BURBLE: to speak in an excited manner.
CAELITIS: the divinities who dwell within the celestial planes.
CATHARSIS: the release of emotional tension, especially through kinds of art or music.
CELERITOUS: swift, speedy, fast.
CERAUNOPHILIA: loving thunder and lightning and finding them intensely beautiful.
CHEVELURE: the nebulous tail of a comet.
CINGULOMANIA: a strong desire to hold a person in your arms.
COCCINEOUS: bright red; scarlet.
COCKAIGNE: an imaginary land of luxury and idleness.
CONSTELLATE: to eluster; to compel by stellar influence.
COSMOGYRAL: whirling around the universe.
CORDOLIUM: heartache; heartfelt sorrow.
CORUSCATE: to reflect brillantly, to sparkle.
CRAMOISY: of a crimson color.
CREATURELY: a person who is controlled by others and is used to perform unpleasant or dishonest tasks for someone else.
CRYSTALLOMANIA: an obsession with crystals and other crystalline objects.
CHRYSALISM: the amnotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm.
CLINQUANT: glittering with gold and silver.
CLYSMIC: cleaning, washing.
CUPIDITY: greed for money or possessions.
CYANEOUS: a sky-blue color.
CYNOSURE: guiding star; a object of common interest.
DARKLING: of or related to darkness.
DÉCLASSÉ: having fallen in social status.
DEIFORM: god-like or divine in nature.
DEMERSAL: that lives near the bottom or a body of water.
DESIDERIUM: an ardent longing, as for something lost.
DISPITEOUS: cruel and without mercy.
DOUX: sweet, soft, mild, gentle.
DRACONTINE: belonging to a dragon.
DYSANIA: the state of finding it hard to get out of bed in the morning.
ECCEDENTESIAST: someone who fakes a smile.
EFFLORESCENCE: a period or state of blooming, blossoming.
ELEGY: a poem of serious reflection, typically a lament for the dead.
ELEUTHEROPHILIST: someone who advocates free love.
ELYSIAN: beautiful or creative, divinely inspired; peaceful and perfect.
EMACITY: desire or fondness for buying things.
EMPYREAL: pertaining to the sky; celestial.
EPHIALTES: a nightmare; the demon Incubus that supposedly causes a nightmare.
EPICARICACY: the joy that results from others misfortune.
EREMOPHOBIA: the deep fear of stillness, solitude, or deserted places.
ETHEREAL: extremely delicate, light, not of this world.
EUMOIRIETY: happiness due to state of innocence and purity.
FLORENTIS: abounding in flowers; being in bloom and adorned with plentiful flowers.
FREICEADAN: guard, garrison, watch, sentinal.
FULMINATE: cause to explode violently and with loud noise.
FURCIFEROUS: brat; rascally, scandalous.
GLOAMING: twilight, dusk.
GRAME: anger, wrath, scorn; sorrow, grief, misery.
HALCYON: calm and peaceful; happy, prosperous.
HELLION: a rowdy or mischievous person.
HELIOPHILIA: desire to stay in the sun; love of sunlight.
HEAVENIZE: to render like heaven or fit for heaven, to purify and make a holy place or a person.
HENOTIC: promoting harmony or peace.
HIRAETH: a homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that never was.
HOLILY: belonging to or derived from or associated with a divine power.
HYPNAGOGIC: the state immediately before falling asleep.
IGNICOLIST: a worshiper of fire.
ILLECEBROUS: attractive and alluring.
IMPLUVIOUS: soaked with rain.
INCANDESCENCE: light produced by high temperatures.
INCALESCENCE: the property of being warming.
INCENDIARY: designed for the purpose of causing a fire, likely to cause anger or violence.
INEFFABLE: too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words.
INSOUCIANT: free from worry, concern or anxiety.
IRENIC: aiming or aimed at peace, promoting peace.
IRIDESCENT: producing a display of rainbow-like colors.
INVIDIARE: to envy.
ISOLOPHILIA: a strong preference and affection for solitude.
KALOPSIA: the delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are.
KALON: beauty that is more than skin deep.
LACONIC: expressing much in a few words.
LACUNA: a blank space; a missing part.
LATIBULE: a hiding place, a place of safety and comfort.
LAMBENT: to glow or flicker softly. Luminous, light or brilliant.
LIMERENCE: the state of being infatuated with another person.
LONGANIMITY: still suffering while planning revenge.
LOUCHE: disreputable; morally dubious.
LUCELENCE: the state of being fine and beautiful; shining, brilliant.
LUCIFORM: resembling light in appearance; having, in some respects; the nature of qualities of light.
LUMINESCENCE: light produced by chemical, electrical or physiological means.
MALTALENT: the negative emotions of wanting injury or harm to befall someone; a hostile behavior or attitude towards someone considered an enemy.
MARMORIS: the shining surface of the ocean.
MAZARINE: a dark blue color; rich blue or reddish-blue color.
MELIORISM: the belief that the world gets better; the belief that humans can improve the world.
MÉLOMANIE: an excessive and abnormal love and deep attraction to music and melody.
MERCURIAL: subject to sudden or unpredictable changes.
MESMERIC: appealing; drawing attention.
MORDACIOUS: biting or given to biting; biting or sharp in manner; caustic; capable of wounding.
MORPHEAN: of or relating to Morpheus, to dreams, or to sleep.
MOXIE: courage, nerve, determination.
NEBULOCHAOTIC: a state of being hazy and confused.
NEFARIOUS: wicked, villainous, despicable.
NEMESISM: frustration, anger or aggression directed inward, toward oneself and one's way of living.
NERITIC: pertaining to shallow coastal waters.
NOETIC: of or associated with or requiring the use of mind.
NOIRCEUR: the state of being pitch black in color; a state of lacking illumination.
NUBIVAGANT: wandering in the air, moving through the air.
NUMINOUS: spiritual or supernatural; surpassing comprehension or understanding; mysterious.
ONEIRODYNIA: restless, disturbed sleep, characterized by nightmares and sleepwalking.
OPHIOMORMOUS: snake-like.
ORPHIC: mysterious and entrancing, beyond ordinary understanding.
PAVONINE: characteristic of a peacock; resembling the tail of a peacock; as in colors; iridescent.
PETRICHOR: the scent of rain on dry earth.
POIESIS: creation; creative power or ability.
PORPHYROUS: purple; of purple hue.
PLAXONDRY: the mix of introspective nostalgia, sadness, and calmness felt when listening vaporwave and its related genres.
PRATE: to talk excessively and pointlessly.
PROCELLOUS: tempestuous, stormy.
QUIDDITY: the essence of something.
QUIXOTIC: extravagantly chivalrous or romantic; visionary, impractical or impracticable.
RANTIPOLE: a wild, reckless young person; to be wild and reckless.
REDAMANCY: the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.
REDOLENT: having a strong distinctive fragrance; serving to bring to mind.
REMEANT: coming back, returning.
RESPLENDENT: having brilliant or glowing appearance; dazzling and impressive in appearance through being richly colorful or sumptuous.
REVERIE: a state of being pleasantly lost in one's thoughts; a daydream.
RODOMEL: juice of roses mixed with honey.
ROSEATE: rose-like; overly optimistic.
RUTILANT: glowing or glittering with red or gold light.
SANGUINEOUS: accompanied by bloodshed.
SASHAY: to strut or move about in an ostentatious or conspicuous manner.
SCIAMACHY: a battle against imaginary enemies; fighting your shadow.
SEQUACIOUS: lacking independence of originality of thought.
SERAPHIC: beautiful and pure; having a sweet nature befitting an angel or a cherub; of or relating to an angel of the first order.
SERENDIPITY: finding something good without looking for it.
SKINT: having little or no money avaliable.
SOLIVAGANT: someone who wanders or travels the world alone; a solitary adventurer.
SOMNIATE: to dream, to make sleepy.
SORTIGER: delivering prophecies of the future; having the qualities of being oracular.
STELLIFEROUS: having or abonding with stars.
STELLIFY: to transform from an earthly body into a celestial body; to place in the sky as such.
SUCCIDUOUS: ready to fall, falling.
SPUME: a white mass of bubbles or froth on the top of a wave.
SYNODIC: relating to or involving the conjunction of stars, planets or other celestial objects.
TARANTISM: the uncontrollable urge to dance.
TEMENOS: a sacred circle where no one can be oneself without fear.
THANATOPHOBIA: fear of death.
TYYNEYS: the state of peacefulness; absent of worry or fear, being composed and at ease.
ULTRAMARINE: beyond the sea; greenish-blue color.
VELLEITY: a wish or inclination not strong enough to lead to action.
VENERATION: a profound emotion inspired by a deity.
VESPERTINE: in or of the evening; setting at the same time as, or just after, the sun.
VERDANT: with plants and flowers in abundance.
VERMEIL: a liquid composition applied to a gilded surface to give luster to the gold.
VERTICORDIOUS: to turn the heart from evil.
VIOLESCENT: tending toward violet color.
VORFREUDE: the joyful anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures.
WANDERLUST: a strong desire to travel and explore the world.
WHIST: to hush or silence; to still, to become still.
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cerezzzita©, 2022 · all rights reserved
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cosmicanakin · 2 months
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anakin drabbles!
adult content / minors do NOT interact.
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pairing. anakin skywalker x female reader.
contains. penetration, possessiveness, power dynamics, unprotected sex ( stay safe folks ), explicit language.
authors note. miss anakin terribly so i wrote this <3
divider creds @fairytopea / @pfpanimes
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soft pants fill the air as anakin hovers above you, caging your writhing form beneath his solid bulk. intense blue eyes gaze down hungrily, taking in every gasp and mewl escaping plump lips parted in ecstasy.
"you're mine, y/n." he growls against the shell of your ear, nipping the sensitive flesh teasingly. whimpers turn to full-blown moans as he pulls nearly all the way out before snapping his hips forward in a sharp thrust.
"i'm yours, ani. only yours." you cry out, fingernails raking down sculpted back muscles unable to find purchase against sweat-slicked skin. a low rumbling chuckle greets this admission of submission to his masterful control over your trembling form.
grasping your wrists in a firm yet tender hold, he pins them above your head stretching your frame taut as a bowstring beneath his divine ministrations. his ruthless pace never falters, leaving you bereft of ability to meet each passionate roll of powerful hips locking perfectly to your own.
leaning down to claim your mouth in a blisteringly carnal kiss, he swallows each sweet sound of ecstasy spilling wantonly from your lips. the way his tongue curls around and plunders your own mimics his merciless plowing driving you ever closer to cliffs edge.
"you feel incredible, so tight and wet. i don't ever want to spill myself anywhere but your hot little cunt." anakin growls roughly, never losing stride even as your walls begin fluttering wildly around his massive cock.
a litany of praise and possessive endearments tumble from his lips, fuelling your building orgasm higher with each scorching word. "that's it baby, cum for me. i want to feel you milk my cock - every last drop."
with a cry muffled against his shoulder, the blinding release claiming your senses sends colors bursting behind clenched lids. your entire being shreds to pieces impaled so deliciously on his long thick shaft, barely registering continued powerful drives through your pulsing walls gripping him vice-like.
anakin growls viciously, slamming into your limp pliant form a final few times before erupting in a scorching torrent shooting so deep you swear you feel it pooling low in your gut. emptying himself fully buried to the hilt ensures every molecule is branded solely to your greedy channel throbbing delicately around his now softening length.
taking his time to ride out the waves of bliss still crash through your joined forms, he peppers tender kisses across flushed skin comely sheened with a fine mist. lazily rocking gentle strokes ease you both down from ecstasy, words of adoration whispered like prayers against clammy flesh.
collapsing atop your sated form, anakin draws your pliant body flush against the masculine contours of his own painted vibrantly with afterglow's glow. tucking sweaty flyaways behind your ear, massive arms encircle your frame possessively despite tenderness flooding blue irises gazing down adoringly.
yours and anakin's souls remain joined closer than any physical melding, hearts beating as one to the rhythm of shared intimacy's melody. a perfection found solely with your lover, whose passion knows no bounds beckoning you ever higher ascending together.
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shiny-jr · 1 month
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✦ damnation [ the vizier's vassal ]
– Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.
– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.
– Characters: Kalim Al-Asim, Jamil Viper.
– Note: Please enjoy this post! Hopefully everything is okay, since I just copy and pasted from the quiz and skimmed.
– Pages: 42
– Not satisfied? Try looking here for the quiz to take it yourself and see where you end up banished!
The Diviner   |   The Vizier's Vassal   |   The Raven Retainer
Feathers. Colorful feathers tickled your nose. A woven shawl sat on your shoulders with vibrant colors and macaw feathers along the clip that held it in place above your collarbone. As your vision readjusted to the scenery, you could make out an old desert city stretching out as far as the eye could see, until it met over the horizon with the starry night sky. It was nothing like the court you were in moments ago. Instantly everything came flashing back to you, the trial, the judges, your punishment. This was your punishment. “Holy shit.” 
“Is something wrong?” 
You looked to the side, surprised to see a servant placing a tray beside you. You were on a balcony, a beautiful grand spacious terrace where the arches were decorated with ivy and walls of flowers while pillars of flames provided light and there was a large water fountain in the center. You were laying on the edge of that fountain, when you pushed yourself up and looked around. That’s when you noticed your clothes had changed too. Somehow your simple change of clothes from before had become easy-to-move-in loose trousers and a simple tunic, but with the colorful shawl over your shoulders that resembled wings. “What? What the hell?” 
“Is there something wrong with the food?” 
Food? You looked down at the tray the servant had brought, surprised to see a plate of kofta with a chalice of water. The delicious smell wafted in the air, making your mouth water and stomach grumble. How long has it been since you ate? Probably well before you were arrested. If you got food, you were expecting cold slop, not this scrumptious meal that was cooked to perfection. Instantly you snatched it up, assuring the servant, “No, no, forget it! This is fine, uh, thanks…!” 
“Very well.” They bowed their head to you, “Please, enjoy the meal, vassal.” 
Vassal? You stopped mid-bite, about to ask them about it and where you were, but they had already taken off. Well, you weren’t complaining. You had thought you were going to die, or end up in some horrible hell. This place was actually quite nice. You could feel the breeze of the cool desert air and smell the flora growing on this terrace, you heard the city below with the crackling of fire from the pillars and the running water beside you, not to mention you were eating the best food you ever tasted! If this was hell, then being banished might be the best thing that’s ever happened to you! 
“You! Jamil’s vassal!” 
There it was again. What the hell did they mean by vassal? Your cheeks were stuffed with food you had shoveled into your mouth, as you slowly and awkwardly turned around to face whoever called you. Who was Jamil? You had no idea. A little annoyed that your dinner was interrupted, you eyed the approaching stranger up and down before swallowing your food and muttering, “What do you want?”
Appearing offended at your response, the young man stomped up to you, closer so you could see him better in the dim lighting. He looks a little young, if you had to guess, you’d say the guy was no younger than eighteen. Sharp blue eyes and long thick black hair styled into a single braid, not to mention he wasn’t smiling. This was no servant judging by the expensive looking blue garbs he wore and the gold on his bronze ears that complimented his handsome face. It had to be someone of high standing. When he was right in front of you, he frowned down at you and placed his hands on his hips, “Where is Jamil? And where is my cousin?” 
You lowered your plate of food, squinting incredulously at this stranger. Who did he think he was? Jamil? Cousin? “Your cousin…? Jamil…? How should I know?” 
“You should know. As the vizier’s only vassal, you should know where Jamil is. That is your job, to serve him. Or is he slithering about in places he shouldn’t be?” As his blue eyes bore down at you, he continued his tirade, “You haven’t bowed your head or greeted me as everyone does, by saying, good day, Prince Jaseer. And you’re here slacking off while everyone else in the palace is dutifully working.” 
“I’m on a lunch break.” You mumbled in reply, tempted to snap. Wait… had he said prince…? A beautiful royal in blue wearing gold, with long black hair, who is spirited and no-nonsense, like a princess in a fantasy tale. A princess that lived in a palace just like this one, where there was a vizier and sultan–– oh fuck. How was that possible? This was like a stupid kid’s story you heard all the time! Before you could ponder on the topic, you were reminded of who was in front of you by him cleaning his throat. You immediately bowed your head sloppily, begrudgingly, as you recited the words he wanted to hear. “Good day, Prince Jaseer…” 
At your less-than-satisfactory response, he crossed his arms over his chest and replied still with that frown, “If you can’t answer my question, then there’s no use talking to you. I’ll find someone who can tell me where my cousin and Jamil are. Let it be known, I have my eye on you and your master. My cousin may be fond of you both, but I am not.” 
When you slowly lifted your head, you watched the prince storm away, likely to go find his cousin, whoever that was, and the vizier, this Jamil guy. As soon as he turned a corner, you scrunched your nose and scoffed, “Brat.” 
Wait… that meant this was a story. It was all too similar to a story that began much like: it begins on a dark night, where a dark man waits with a dark purpose. If this was that story then what were you…? Apparently working for the vizier, wearing a shawl of rainbows, and feathers… oh my god, you were the fucking parrot. As you resumed your eating you busied your mind with processing these thoughts. “At least the tax collector can’t find me here.”
All you knew was that you were in the role of his parrot, his pet. What a stupid role to end up in! In this version you hoped you were at least some sort of glorified servant! At least you weren’t dead, this was much better than that. You knew the tale of Aladdin by heart, it was a very popular story growing up. You had even envied the protagonist, a thief, for ending up with a genie and winning the love of the princess. Turns out that princess, or prince in this case, was not all that. Well, they always say to never meet your heroes. But, there was one thing that was bound to be great, no matter how much this story would change. The magic lamp that held the genie. You wanted it. Maybe if you stuck around this vizier long enough, you could take it for yourself whenever the opportunity presented itself. You had the advantage, you knew exactly what was going to happen. That genie could grant any of your wishes! It could take you home if you wanted. You could make all those judges rue the day they banished you! You could rule this world and yours! You could bathe in an endless amount of gold and cash! The possibilities were endless! 
As you finished your meal, another figure came into view. The figure of a guard, like the ones you’ve been watching patrol and march around, approached you nervously. Only when he noticed you glance at him and nod your head, did he begin speaking, “G-Good evening, vassal. The candidates, they’re ready for the vizier, he’ll be here any moment. You are the only one he trusts, everyone knows this, won’t you put in a kind word for me? I fear he’s in a foul mood, his venture to the cave in the desert didn’t end well again.” 
Candidates? Vizier? Cave in the desert? After a few seconds of the guard waiting in anticipation, you were able to connect the dots. This must’ve been a specific rendition of the story where the vizier found the Cave of Wonders in the desert but instead of using a magic machine he created to find the diamond in the rough that could enter the cave, he used his power behind the scenes and in the dark to search through prisoners and criminals and send those he thought might be worthy to die trying to enter the mystic cave. This vizier, Jamil, would no doubt be growing frustrated since he’s likely been keeping at this for so long without finding a single person that can successfully enter the cave. Jumping off your seat on the fountain after finishing your last bite of food, you looked over to the guard and smiled, “Alright, let’s go. We can’t leave the master waiting, can we?”
“Of course! Allow me to lead the way.” So you followed the meek little guard, and as you trailed after him you thought about what would happen and what would you do. The guard had said that it was a fact that the vizier trusted only you, or rather, the person who you’ve replaced. The prince didn’t notice you were not the vassal, and neither did this guard or any of the other servants, so it was likely that no one would notice unless you slipped up, not even the Vizier Jamil. Hopefully. 
You watched as the pristine halls of the palace became dark and dim the deeper you went. As the smooth walls became rugged stone lit only by lamps of fire, and the lush green plants and overpriced furniture and decorations became absent. There were also, noticeably, less people. It felt like you and the guard were the only ones as you followed them deeper into what you guessed was a dungeon where you heard chains rattling and the echoing screams of those held captive. Before you could enter the room, the guard turned to you and pleaded, 
“Please, stay here. I’m sure seeing you will give the vizier a bit of peace. He should be here any second now. I will go ahead and be sure everything is in order.” 
Before you could even protest, the guard scurried ahead to the end of the hall and not too long after, you detected footfall behind you. When you turned around, you saw what you presumed had to be the Vizier Jamil. The vizier looked sort of imposing as he appeared from the dimly lit halls, and with the flames on the wall you could just make out his appearance. A thin figure clothed in red and black robes decorated with gold, holding a golden staff that ended in the shape of a cobra’s head. Long thin hair as black as night coiled down his brown shoulders like snakes in multiple small braids and loose strands decorated with gold, and instantly his sharp gray eyes painted with eyeshadow darted over to you upon noticing your staring. He looked irked, but since you supposedly had a good relationship with him, maybe you could poke and prod without worrying about suffering any consequences. From what you recalled, the vizier’s parrot in the tales was a loud-mouthed creature with a bad temper. 
“Welcome back, oh great vizier. So, how did it go?” 
“Not a word.” The vizier hissed, sending you a glare. Yet it wasn’t threatening, it felt more… annoyed. Like when your friend was pestering you, except without the light-heartedness. At least he didn’t snap, he did have the power to command you to be put to death. Yet all he did was give you a look before his frown instantly morphed into a stoic expression in the blink of an eye, so fast that it sent you reeling.
Jamil wasted no time in walking forward, not bothering with greetings as he entered the first room of the dungeon that was dingy and dirty. Inside was the guard from before, nervously standing off to the side just across from a line of prisoners in shackles with their heads hanging low, and more guards behind them. These prisoners reminded you of yourself, but less. Now you’re free of any shackles, you’re wearing fine clothes and eating food made by the best chefs while living in the luxurious palace. To avoid being at the center of attention, you stood off to the side, leaning against a corner. Listening in could give more insight.
You watched intently, curiously, as Jamil approached the line of prisoners, scanning them all with those sharp eyes as he walked by them slowly. The men and women in rags and chains tensed when he stepped near, but kept their eyes glued to the ground. Whether it was out of respect or fear, you weren’t sure, but you watched as some of them squirmed in place or nervously glanced at him. After a minute of going down the line of a dozen or so prisoners, he stopped in his tracks and turned to face the guard who guided you. On his face was obvious disappointment. 
“You bring me the rough, but never a diamond.” That cold stare of his remained on the anxious guard, never looking away even as he commanded the others, “Take them away.” 
You purse your lips and shake your head, watching as the other guards forcefully dragged the prisoners down another hall, to a fate unknown. Poor suckers. You could hear them pleading, begging the vizier for mercy from whatever end they knew awaited them. In one rendition of the story, when the princess snuck out of the palace and gave apples to poor children, apples she had no money on her to pay for, she nearly lost her hand as punishment. It was likely that these prisoners were about to lose much more than a single hand.
The meek guard sent you a pleading look as they whispered frantically, “You said you would put in a kind word for me…!” 
Turning your attention to them, you scoffed, “I never said that. I said I would follow you.” 
“You…!” At your shrug, he directed his sights towards the vizier who was walking away, his back toward him as he seemed to be prepared to follow the guards and prisoners going elsewhere within the dungeon. “Please, my vizier.” The vizier stopped, and the words were caught in the guard’s throat until he finally forced them out with wavering uncertainty, making it sound more like a question than a statement. “... Perhaps this diamond in the rough does not exist…?” 
For a moment he paused but didn’t turn around, and quietly replied, “They’re out there.” A response with unwavering certainty. 
“But we’ve searched for months!” It appears that the guard was showing signs of frustration as well. Who knows how many prisoners they’ve interrogated and how many criminals they’ve captured in these months, all in an attempt to satisfy the vizier’s wish of finding a diamond in the rough. “I do not understand what could possibly be in that cave that could help a… a man as great as you. You are already second only to the sultan!”
“Second? Uh-oh.” You exclaimed, bracing yourself for what was to come and ignoring the guard’s growing irritation towards you. In the tale, yes the vizier worked for the sultan, he was the sultan’s most trusted advisor. But, behind the vizier’s facade of charm and loyalty, there was only a burning hate for the sultan who believed in him. The vizier wished to be the most powerful man in the kingdom, second to no one. So to be told he was second, straight to his face, would be like a slap. You watched as Jamil turned to the guard with a deep frown, and you could only whistle, “Who’s in trouble now~?” 
Jamil turned to face him fully, staring at the guard beneath him with such a disdainful gaze before questioning firmly, “Do you believe second is enough?”
Without hesitation, they nodded, the answer to them was obvious. “Yes. You were not born to be sultan, you are not of royal lineage. His Majesty, Kalim Al-Asim, was born to be sultan.” 
Kalim Al-Asim. So that was the sultan’s name. The mere mention of him was enough to tick off the vizier. He narrowed his eyes and began to speak in a quiet murmur, “Do you know that I’ve served him my entire life? From the day I was born, they dictated that I was a servant to him and they chained my entire existence so it depended on him.” Slowly he stepped forward, inching closer with every word he spat like venom. “You have no idea of the things I’ve been forced to do for him. The sacrifices I’ve made and blood that’s stained my hands, the bodies I’ve buried and times I’ve watched him be praised for his minimal efforts I can easily best.” The closer he got, the more frightened the guard appeared until he was right in front of them. “Everyone will one day learn that I am not worthy of a mere second place, I am supposed to be first. That’s why I need the lamp, and I no longer need you––!” 
Right before your eyes, you watched as Jamil swiftly struck him with the bottom of his staff and he fell backwards into a well. A seemingly bottomless well, because you heard his scream growing distant until an unsettling silence lingered. You covered your mouth in shock, but Jamil paid you no mind. It’s as if he’s done a dozen times before, as if you had witnessed all of them before. 
After a moment, he sighed and lowered his staff, regaining his composure to cover up for the anger that slipped through in that moment. Again, in a flash, he had a stoic expression as he turned to gaze at you in the corner, when he beckoned you closer with a motion of his finger. “Come here, my vassal. It’s time for a meeting with that irritating sultan.” 
Now you were on your way to meet the sultan. Kalim. You hoped he wasn’t anything like Jamil. This vizier was to be feared, but at least he didn’t seem to mind you. So you probably won’t be pushed down a well anytime soon. As you followed him when he began walking, he questioned abruptly, 
“What did you do while I was gone?” 
This wasn’t good. You weren’t here for that long before he returned, and you got the feeling that Jamil was a particularly observant fellow judging by how he glanced at you from the corner of his eyes. “That royal brat confronted me while I was eating. They’re so annoying.” 
“Ah, Prince Jaseer?” Slowly he nodded, as if agreeing with your words. Phew. You were doing alright, fitting the role just fine it seemed. “Annoying would be putting it lightly. He’s just another entitled royal born with a golden spoon in his mouth, an ignorant person who knows nothing of how the real world works.” 
“You’re telling me. The guy made me bow and recite a greeting like I was nothing but a pleb beneath him! Then he had the gall to say I was lazy! I was eating! Can’t a person like me eat in peace once in a while? I was starving!” 
By now you were in a better part of the palace, where you were once again surrounded by riches. Upon hearing your response, Jamil replied without hesitation, “You are lazy when I’m not around.” At his remark, you stared at him incredulously as he continued with zero reservations, “You are uncaring, murderous, deceitful, aggressive, cunning, and annoying.” 
Unable to help it, you snapped back in reply, beginning to rant and list off your fingers. “ME? Look in the mirror bud, you just basically described yourself! You’re cruel, immoral, narcissistic, power-hungry, sadistic, and secretly deranged! You're a two-faced, snake!” When you looked over to him, he still had that stoic expression but he rolled his eyes. Your jaw dropped. There was no way he just fucking–– 
“You used that insult, two-faced snake, two weeks ago.” Before you could add anything more to the growing pile of insults, he lightly tapped your forehead with the cobra head of his golden staff, appearing unbothered. “Come up with something else or get on my level, then you can talk back. For now, be quiet. We’re nearing where Kalim wanted to meet us. I don’t need to remind you to be on your best behavior around the sultan.” 
Rubbing your forehead, you glared at him and mumbled, “Oh, I’ll come up with something shocking, you sorry sack of––ACK!” You coughed, bending over in pain as he quickly jabbed the end of his staff against your stomach to shut you up just before a silk curtain separating the halls from a room opened up. 
“Jamil! Oh, and your vassal too! I’m so happy to see you guys! You’re just the ones I wanted to see!” 
You had to squint just to look past the stranger’s bright beaming smile. It was a young man, just a bit shorter than Jamil, yet he was dressed in finer garbs than the vizier. The bright pearly-white smile matched some of his odd white strands of hair that poked out past the silk cloth messily tied around his head, the turban he must’ve usually wore to show his high status was off to the side beside a model of the entire city. The energy in his red eyes was just as bright as his smile, but even brighter than that was the gleaming golden accessories glittering over his tawny brown complexion. Golden rings and jewels over his fingers, gold buttons stitched onto his silk clothes, even the tiniest patterns on those silk garbs looked shiny enough to be real gold. So much gold–– 
Jamil wore a charming devilish smile, but once this Kalim looked away for a second, he quickly slapped your hand as soon as you lifted it, sending you a warning glare, as if saying, do not touch. You glared right back, but as soon as Kalim returned his attention to the two of you again, he pleaded, “I could really use your help, Jamil! You’re the person I can trust the most!” 
“You have always placed your trust in me, and I’ve never failed to deliver.” He replied smoothly with a bow of his head. Damn, he was really good at lying. It was a teensy bit concerning. 
“It’s all this suitor thing with Jaseem!” Kalim exclaimed, beginning to lay down his worries, “You know I promised I would take care of my cousin before his parents passed, I promised them to help him find a wife when he got older. And now, well, he’s older! I don’t remember it being nearly this hard when I had to marry.” 
The vizier followed Kalim as he continued to rant and bemoan, stepping beside him as they stopped in front of various shelves of scrolls and books and tables of documents and knick-knacks. Meanwhile, you followed closely behind, reminding yourself not to input anything or risk gaining suspicion. Once Kalim was finished, only then did Jamil respond casually, “To be fair, your marriage didn’t last long due to… unfortunate circumstances. I’m afraid Prince Jaseer is different. He’s already met ten times the suitresses you ever did. Your standards are nowhere near as high as the prince’s.” 
“Pfft…” You slapped your hand over your mouth, going quiet as both Jamil and Kalim looked over at you. Fuck, you were in trouble now, weren’t you? 
Kalim blinked before joining in on the shameless laughter, lifting the mood substantially. “You’re right, I never had this problem. It honestly didn’t take a lot to impress me! Oh, have you eaten today? You should totally try these cheese and sauces on crackers! They’re my favorite snack right now! Here!” 
You held up your hands in defense, “Wait, a minute. Actually, maybe–– mmph!” You nearly choked as he abruptly stuffed a handful of the crunchy saltines in your mouth, and he placed his other hand to pat your back so you couldn’t step away. 
The sultan grinned as you were forced to swallow the food. That’s when he held up more, and urged, “It’s good, isn’t it? You should try more! Hey, you can even have dinner with me if you want! The more the merrier, right?” Before you could even input anything, Kalim shouted loud enough so the servants outside could hear him, “Keep the snacks coming! And make sure to have an extra seat for later! I’d like to eat dinner on the balcony tonight with Jamil’s vassal! Make sure to serve the best, most delicious dishes we have to offer!” 
“Hah, you have such a kindness that extends to everyone, don’t you, Kalim? Even to the dense little attendants.” 
You shot the vizier a glare at his not-so-subtle jab directed towards you. The only reason you didn’t say anything to his face was because you still had a mouthful of crackers that you could barely swallow without gagging. 
Clearing his throat, his soft laughter stopped as he resumed his professional attitude and he was back to business. “Now then, allow me to divine a solution to this pesky problem. As well as take care of… the work you often leave in my care. As per usual.” When you glanced at him, the moment Kalim spun on his heel to catch up with the slowly moving vizier is when you noticed the dark haired man’s annoyance that flashed for a second. “However, I will be needing access to the restricted area of the library, to look at the ancient texts of laws and such. You understand, don’t you?” 
“The restricted section? The one reserved only for me and other members of the royal family?” The young man tilted his head, appearing a bit apprehensive as he tapped his finger against his chin in thought. “I dunno, Jamil. Normally I’d let you, but I think that’s against the rules. There’s a lot of secrets hidden there.” 
“It’s necessary for us to continue.” Lifting his golden staff, he nonchalantly examined its enchanting ruby red eyes before his fingers slid across the smooth golden surface and he turned it so the cobra head was gazing right at the sultan. A slight sly smile grew on his face as he hummed, “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.” 
You watched with intrigued, both fascinated and horrified as he pressed the end of his staff against the ground and leaned the cobra head forwards, causing the sultan to stiffen up and go oddly silent. That’s when you realized it was happening. Jamil was using his powers to hypnotize and manipulate the sultan, just like in the stories. 
The sultan’s own red eyes mirrored the rubies of the staff, but quickly his smile dropped into a blank expression as held a staring contest with the cobra head. As if in a trance, he quietly repeated the words spoken to him. “––Everything will be fine…” 
That smile on his face grew to a smirk as the vizier repeated his request, “Permission to use the restricted area of the library?” 
“Yes, Jamil…” Kalim remained unblinking. His once bright eyes full of life were now… empty. It’s like they were covered with a mist. Slowly, robotically, he held up a blue diamond ring and spoke, “The key… Whatever you need will be fine.” 
Instantly he snatched it up, tucking the ring away safely within his robes as he thanked, “You are most gracious, my liege. Now, run along and have fun, enjoy your dinner. Hm?” 
“Yes…” 
With a swish of his cloak, Jamil began to walk away and you trailed behind him as Kalim stayed in the room, mindlessly gazing out the window. As soon as you were past the curtains and saw no one else present, Jamil’s professionalism dropped and he rolled his eyes, wearing an annoyed frown. You spat out the crackers you couldn’t swallow, it left crumbs in your mouth and salt that burned the roof of your mouth but at least now you were able to speak your mind a little more freely. “I can’t take it! If he tried to stuff one more cracker in my face, I’m was gonna––!” 
“Calm yourself, my vassal.” Jamil replied, his expression less refined and now just a resting bitch face. Turning to you, he stopped and instructed, “I will go scour that private area of the library to see what secrets it may hide. The key to our troubles may very well be hidden among those carefully guarded secrets. You will stay here.”
You gawked. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” Pressing a pointed finger against your shoulder, he continued his instructions, “Keep that halfwitted idiot busy, stay for dinner as he wants. Have a little tea party with him if it amuses him. Afterwards, I expect to see you back within my tower. I’d prefer you not stay around Kalim for longer than necessary, especially because his ignorance may rub off on you. Or has it already?” 
“Haha, yeah, sure, laugh it up. Very funny.” You scowled at his grin, watching as he turned to leave. “Have fun doing that lame boring reading! I’m gonna enjoy this time off eating until I can’t take another bite!” Once he was out of sight, you spat, “Jerk.” And promptly returned back inside beside the sultan. 
When you found him, he was still gazing out the window with those empty eyes. The hypnotic technique continued to last for a few seconds even after Jamil took his leave. However, thankfully, after waving your hand in front of his face and lightly slapping his cheeks, he was beginning to regain consciousness. “Hey, you! Kalim–– er… sultan, wake up.” 
Kalim blinked repetitively, the hazy mist in his gaze disappearing until his eyes were bright and red like polished rubies once again. As if awaking from a deep sleep, he groaned and pressed his cheek against your hand, not fully realizing what was happening until he blinked again and looked up at you. “What…? What happened? Ah, I’m sorry, I zoned out again…!” Despite realizing how close you two were, he made no effort to move. Was he that trusting or that stupid? “Where’s Jamil?” 
“He’s busy. Had to go back to work, uh… sultan.” You were a little upset that he’d leave you with this odd little ruler, but you couldn’t complain too much when you’d get to have your fill of food. 
“Ooooh, okay then! And please, you can just call me Kalim! Any friend of Jamil’s is a friend of mine.” He hummed, taking your hands as soon as you stepped away and lowered them away from his face. “I’m so happy to finally get to spend time with you! Jamil is always so hardworking and you are too! I mean, you’re always helping him, and he seems to trust you a lot and that’s saying something because he hardly trusts anyone! So I’ve never gotten to really talk this much to you until now! This is a little exciting, isn’t it? Come on!” Without warning, he began to tug you along, apparently forgetting the exchange from earlier. So he really didn’t remember that he had been hypnotized. As he dragged you along outside of the rooms and down the pristine extensive hallways, he continued, “I wanna know all about you! Our dinner should be ready by now! And what better way to get to know someone than over dinner? What kind of food do you like? What’s your favorite drink? Oh! And we can’t forget dessert!” 
Suddenly you were out on the balcony where you first gained consciousness, it was still dark out. It all happened so quickly, in a flash you were seated on a long plush chaise lounge draped with numerous pillows and blankets. In a rush, the servants came out, setting out tables and trays filled to the brim with food until you were surrounded by mounds of food that all smelled so delectable. Before you could even think of something to say, Kalim was already piling food on your plate, making it so high that it resembled a small mountain. 
“Eat as much as you want! Oh, try this! And this too! And you gotta have a little of this! Dinner is one of my favorite times of the day, because you get to relax with someone, whether it be family, a friend, or a complete stranger, and talk about anything!” 
There was so much on your plate that you almost struggled to peek over it just to see the face of the sultan. Yeah you wanted food, but this was too much even for you… As the young man explained what dish was what, you glanced behind your shoulder at the servants transporting trays and pitchers. Your eyes narrowed, but you pretended to pay attention to the sultan by nodding at whatever he said, as you watched out of the corner of your eye. One servant carrying another silver tray, leaned forward to place it on the table, while his other arm was folded at his midsection. His body had been covering your view of the pitcher, but once he stepped back and began to walk away, you noticed the liquid fizzing for a moment and became an odd color before the solution dissolved to blend in with the beverage. That substance he slipped into the drink… was he trying to poison the sultan?
Your eyes followed the servant as he turned on his heel and began to retreat towards the kitchen. Narrowing your gaze, you interrupted Kalim while he was going on about some story of him having dinner with other royals, when you blurted out, “Hey, you.” 
It went quiet, the sultan appeared confused and leaning over to get a better look at what you were glaring at while all the servants froze in their tracks. 
“Yeah, you with the stupid face and red sash. I’m talking to you. What the hell were you slipping in that drink? You sure have guts to be doing that in front of me. Either that or you're brain-dead.” 
Everyone tensed up at your implication, the guards nearby honing in on the servant with the red sash around their waist. Immediately they had them restrained, one of the head guards ripped off his sash to remove a suspicious vial with some liquid still left in it. Despite the servant’s panicked squirming in the hold of the soldiers, the head guard turned towards the sultan, holding up the vial and nodding in affirmation, “Your Majesty, it is poison…” 
“Again?” Kalim sighed somberly, slowly gripping onto your sleeve. 
Again? What the hell did he mean by again? How many times did this usually happen? As if on cue, the remaining servants rushed in to remove all the food that had been brought. Now, they would have to double check everything to make sure nothing else was poisoned. Without even being told, the armored men escorted away the frightened servant that had failed to harm the sultan. Instantly the area was cleared, save for extra guards further away but still close enough to watch. 
After a few seconds, the realization of something appeared to dawn on the sultan’s face as he gripped your sleeve tighter and peered up at you with wide sparkling red eyes. “You… You saved me! I knew it! You are trustworthy! Wait, what am I talking about? Of course you’re trustworthy, Jamil trusts you, but this just confirms it! I might’ve been poisoned if you hadn’t said anything! You are a good person, just like I thought! You see, I’m a great judge of character so I knew that you were good from the moment I met you!” 
You resisted the urge to laugh at his choice of words about you being a good person. At first you thought of letting it happen, but if the sultan were to die now, that would rush things along. Prince Jaseer would inherit the throne if he gets married quick enough, and then he would definitely get rid of you and Jamil. Then, you’d be poor and powerless on the streets, or worse, dead. So what did you do? Call out the servant, duh. “It’s nothing, really.” 
Shaking his head in refusal, he continued to insist, “But it is something! Don’t be so modest. Everyone should know of what you did for me tonight! The whole kingdom deserves to know! You deserve a reward! If you need anything, just say it, and it's yours! Anything at all!” 
You couldn’t help but scoff, rolling your eyes as a semi-amused smile appeared on your face, “Don’t say that, I’m going to make you regret it.” You’d definitely rob him blind if you could. He would be such an easy target too, like stealing candy from a baby, if he wasn’t always being watched by a troop of guards twenty-four-seven. 
For a moment he was quiet, his red eyes analyzing your smile with surprise before he broke out into the brightest beaming expression that nearly made you shriek from being blinded. “But I mean it! I really do!” As his hands gripped your arm a little tighter, he noticed your colorful shawl. Curious, he began to trace his fingers across the woven shapes, entranced by the colors as he murmured in awe, “Woah, I really like your shawl. The feathers are pretty, and I love the colors! I think I might want something styled like that.” 
He was actually… strangely casual for a guy that was nearly poisoned. Then again, maybe it was a common thing for him. He was the most powerful man in the entire kingdom. “You like it that much?” You watched as he quickly nodded, to which you plucked one of the five long red feathers beside the clip of the shawl. Its red faded into blue, with one edge even tinted with the tiniest bit of yellow and green. “It’s the only thing keeping me from freezing right now, so I can only give you this. That way you can show it to your tailors or stylists or whatever you rich people have, and they know what you want.” It was totally not to distract him and get the sultan off your back so he’d let go of your arm. 
Kalim’s eyes widened as he swiftly reached out and gingerly took the feather in his hands. Those eyes of his looked at the feather with wonder, as if it was worth more than rubies or gold. Turning his wonder-filled expression up at you, he looked so joyful as he leaned forward and spoke, “Thank you…! I love it!” Then, his expression flattened a bit to a more solemn look as he glanced down at the feather he held tightly and back to you. His voice got even quieter so as to not be heard by anyone that may be in the halls nearby. “Since I trust you… can I tell you a secret…?” 
You deadpanned, turning your attention away to the scenery. “No.” 
“Whew, okay, here it goes…” Focusing on the feather, he quickly forced out, “I’ve never gotten a gift like this before…! There. I said it!” 
In that moment you stopped to squint at him, not believing a word he said. “Wait a second, you’re kidding, right? I mean, you’re sultan. You live in a giant palace, you have countless servants and soldiers, your kingdom is one of the most powerful and prosperous! Don’t lie to me, I bet you have people lining up to give you gifts everyday! Gifts of gold, jewels, all that fancy expensive stuff!” 
“I’m not lying! All of that is true, but… this gift is special!” Kalim immediately replied, only gripping the feather tighter as he explained, “I think gifts given on the spot, out of the goodwill of your heart, are way more valuable. Yeah, I get a lot of gifts, and I’m thankful! But it’s not the same! I will treasure this feather because it’s from you, and your kindness!” Eventually his gaze traveled down to your shawl, he was shivering a bit from the cold desert winds. Looking back up at you, then your shawl, then you again, it’s as if he was trying to convey something. “I-It’s getting a little cold, aha… Can I…?” 
Frowning, you flopped back onto the soft cushions, your fingers gripping the very edges of the shawl. “This is the one thing that’s mine. No, you can’t have it.” 
“Haha, I wasn’t asking for it! Don’t worry, I’ll definitely be asking my tailors to make me one like yours so we can match! I meant I wanted to share it with you right now!” With zero hesitation, he flopped down beside you. He was close, so incredibly close, enough that you could feel his body warmth and he could probably feel yours. It did not help that when you tried to inch away, he took the initiative to snuggle closer, draping the ends of your shawl around himself as he continued to hold the feather you gifted him. 
When he was right up against you and gazed up at you with those bright eyes and always happy smile, you scowled and muttered, “What’s with you? You got a problem, princey?” 
Without missing a beat, he responded casually. “I’m not a prince, that would technically be my cousin! I’m a sultan! Although I was a prince before, but not anymore.” 
“That’s not what I–– nevermind.” You tried to ignore him for your own good. You couldn’t exactly get away with hurting the sultan, no matter how much you wanted to take a swing. Well, it wasn’t all bad was it? This meant you were on his good side, right? 
As you glanced back at him, you could feel him beside you. Shoulder-to-shoulder, as he gazed up at the stars, looking up at the endless night sky with twinkling eyes. “This is great! I rarely ever have company like this. I mean, I always have company but like–– company that I can just relax with, you know? Oh, look up there, at those stars––!” 
At this point you weren’t really focused on the sultan or what he was saying. Actually, you were focused on something just past him, past the stone curved ends of the balcony where you could see the rest of the city and part of the palace. That's when you made out a figure, like a small ant against the vast backdrop, running fast. They moved quickly, jumping over obstacles and climbing walls like an acrobat, as if it came natural to them, all while avoiding the lights of torches and staying in the shadows. They were dressed in rags too, like a peasant. Like… a thief. 
“––Anyways, that’s the story behind my favorite constellation! What about yours? Do you have a favorite?” 
“OH MY GOD––” Your eyes widened as the realization struck. The thief, they were the protagonist! The protagonist was making their move!
The sultan appeared startled at your sudden exclamation, but his shock quickly turned to a smile as he laughed, “Did you like the story that much? I like it too! Let me think of another one to tell you about!” 
Immediately pushing him away, you sat up and scrambled to get off the chair, “Welp, this is getting weird. And I have to go report back to Jamil! Damn, you know how it is, with work and all. You get it, don’t you? Yeah, of course you do!” Brushing yourself off, you bolted just as the sultan was sitting up and looking bewildered at your odd reaction. “Okay, I’m gonna go before you can say anything, m’kay, bye!” 
“W-Wait!” 
Nope. Not waiting. You ran, not even sure how to reach the vizier because you had no idea where his main quarters were, so you disguised your lack of knowledge as questions such as looking for his extra robes or even where the vizier himself was currently at, demanding answers along the way from unsuspecting servants until they pointed you in the direction. You had to hurry, you had to point out the thief so Jamil could use him and lure him to the lamp. Once he got the lamp, you’d take over from there, you’d come up with a plan eventually. Just not right now, not when you were rushing to make it back to inform the advisor of the intruder as quickly as possible. You climbed the spiraling staircases to one of the towers where the vizier’s quarters were located. 
As soon as you threw open the doors, you found him looking over a tome. However, as soon as you entered, he turned to look at you, raising an eyebrow as you heaved for a breath while you slammed the door shut behind you and leaned your weight against the wooden surface. You exclaimed breathlessly, “Thief!! Thief in the palace!” 
“Thief in the palace?” Jamil parroted, looking even more perplexed as he narrowed his eyes at you and you pointed to his open balcony that overlooked part of the city and part of the palace. 
Stumbling over to the balcony, you leaned your weight on the stone edges, letting the cool desert air fan your face. Quietly you mumbled, “That’s what I said. Catch up, or are you deaf?” When Jamil joined you at the balcony, he stood straight and tall as his dark eyes gazed out into the night. 
There, shrouded in the shadows, was the thief moving nimbly on rooftops and wooden pergolas covered in vines. They moved so quietly and effortlessly, going unnoticed even by the armored guards on patrol just below them. Finally, they disappeared into a hall, where there would only be servants cleaning and handling chores to keep the palace pristine. For once he finally appeared pleased, content, as he glanced at you and instructed, “Have the guards extend an invitation to our intruding guest. I will be escorting them to the cave. And you, my vassal?” 
You? As much as you wanted to go, it wasn’t like you could go into the cave yourself. You also couldn’t reveal that you knew that this thief was the diamond in the rough that the vizier had spent months searching for. No matter how much you wanted that lamp now, you couldn’t risk changing the plot. It was probably better to stay here until the thief would come back with the lamp, genie, with riches and a new name. While they would be busy with wooing the prince, that would be your opportunity to strike. “I’ll stay, keep Prince Jaseer and Kalim off your back if they come asking.” When you noticed Jamil’s attention still on you, you clarified smoothly, “I don’t wanna watch another failure with the cave going up in smoke.” 
“Quit being so pessimistic. This is the one.” He scolded, immediately turning to walk away. However, not before leaving another command to follow. “Go, make yourself useful and inform the guards immediately. I’ll be preparing to leave with the thief.” 
Rolling your eyes, you stood up and prepared yourself to rush down the steps and inform the guards. At the very least, you could get some well-earned rest once he left. “As you wish, your rottenness.”  ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧
“(Y/n)?” 
Your peaceful slumber in the vizier’s quarters was disturbed. On the lounge on the balcony you lay, eyes groggily blinking open only to be met with a familiar face leaning over you. You blinked again for extra measure, your mind processing who you were seeing. 
“Good morning!” Kalim smiled, his head just over yours. Out of instinct you jolted upright, accidentally hitting your forehead against his. “Ow! Ah–– you’re finally awake!” The young man cheered, ignoring the pain on his forehead as you hissed and rubbed your own head where it now hurt from the brunt of the impact. 
Glaring at the sultan for waking you up from a pleasant sleep, you squinted at his bright expression while rubbing your eyes and the now sore spot on your skull. “What the hell are you doing here? How did you even find me? How did you get in here? I locked the door before I fell asleep!” 
“Oh, that? Well, when everyone found out I was looking for you, they told me that you were asleep in Jamil’s tower. Obviously I knew where that was, but when I came to find you, the door was locked! I know, I know, Jamil really likes his privacy, but I just wanted to see you and you wouldn’t open the door! So, I just had the guards use the backup key to open the door and I’ve been waiting here ever since!” 
You sat up, taking a moment to process everything. If you weren’t already squinting because of your vision not yet adjusted to the brightness of the sun from the open balcony and grogginess from your own sleep, you would’ve been squinting even more to look at his smiling face incredulously. Rubbing your tired face, you sighed, “Let me get this straight. You couldn’t wait, so you had your people basically break into the vizier’s room and for what? Just to say good morning? How long were you waiting for me to wake up? Don’t tell me you were watching me sleep.” You scoffed somewhat sarcastically.
“I wasn’t watching you! Well… kinda. I just wanted to make sure you were okay! I do owe you.” You were kidding about that last part, so his response genuinely surprised you. Before you could even think up something to say, he stopped leaning over the long lounge chair you were on and stood up to show off a new article of clothing. A colorful woven shawl, similar to yours. “Look! Isn’t it great? They finished it while I was sleeping, and now we match! The tailors sprayed it with perfume too so it even smells like jasmine!” 
Frowning as you watched him happily twirl and show off the shawl, the feather you gave him stuck to his headband, you muttered, “All I smell is bullsh––” 
“Shhhh!” Appearing incredibly content with his new shawl, he continued to chatter on happily. “I love it so much! Tell me, is this the latest fashion trend in the city? It’s been a while since I’ve gone out.” 
You replied gruffly, “I dunno, why don’t you stick your head out the window and check? I’m not your tailor. Why don’t you ask them? Or even ask to go out or something.” 
At your words, his smile faltered the tiniest bit. It turned somewhat sad, but he continued to force that cheery expression as he averted his gaze downward albeit awkwardly. “I’d love to go out! But… I’m not really allowed. I’m sultan, remember? I’m only allowed to go out during special occasions, and I’ve never been allowed to just be with everyone else past the gates. My dad used to say it was dangerous, and even now the council says it’s not a good idea.” 
Wait a moment… This could work well to your advantage. There was plenty of time before Jamil returned. It would serve as a good excuse to gain your bearing and at least a bit of knowledge on the environment past the high palace walls. Plus, you would get points with the sultan if you made him happy. Besides, being on Kalim’s good side, as annoying as he was, could work out in the end. Especially if things start to go south. It didn’t hurt to be trusted by both the first and second most powerful people in the entire kingdom. Damn you were a genius. You smiled somewhat slyly. “Who says you gotta ask?” 
“H-Huh?” For once Kalim was caught off guard as you hopped up from your spot on the lounge. Once you got up, so did he. He followed you as you stepped over to open a cabinet of clothing. “You mean, go without asking? You really mean it?” 
Kalim was sultan, he’d obviously be recognized without a disguise. But if you just covered his white hair and lower face and switched his riches to common rags, he’d be fine. Probably. Hopefully. Picking up a few handkerchiefs and scarves he could use, you pretended to reconsider, “I dunno… We’d have to sneak out and break the rules–– just kidding, let’s sneak out!” Holding up some cloaks and fabrics he could use as a hood to cover his signature white hair and to mask his lower face, your smile grew as you persuaded him further, “Come on, let’s just go for a midday stroll and snack. We’ll just let everyone think you’re spending time in the vizier’s chambers waiting for him to return or something. Just follow me, out the window, ‘round the garden, I’ll carry you over, and we’re gone.”
Those red eyes of his turned to the open balcony and view of the city on this hot summer’s day. He stood still, as if contemplating it. But it didn’t take much convincing, or that long to ponder over his decision, because like in a snap, he broke out into a grin and eagerly bobbed his head up and down. That’s when you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. 
It took a bit of tip-toeing around, but eventually you managed to get Kalim past the gates with little to no trouble. You had a few coins you snatched from Jamil’s chambers safely secured within a pocket on the inside of your shawl, along with a few knives you tucked away in various parts of your outfit but those were mostly for a last resort. You didn’t plan to go too far because you didn’t know the layout of the city well, and plus you knew there was always the chance of thieves and pickpockets skulking about. The good thing was, that thief protagonist wouldn’t be here, they’d still be in the desert and the Cave of Wonders. All you were here for was a snack and to make the sultan happy, and happy sounded like an understatement. 
The young man was practically glowing, vibrating with energy as he danced on his heels. Kalim fit in surprisingly well. Since he wasn’t tall, he didn’t stand out that much in the busy crowd. Not to mention the lack of silks and fancy garbs helped. It was a good idea you gave him that average quality material to wear. On his body he wore a casual old white tunic turned beige with age and loose-fitted orange pants, with that rainbow shawl he commissioned recently and a dark orange hood with a black cloth around his lower face to top it off. The only thing you could really see if you got close to his face, were those big red eyes just sparkling with life. 
“Stop staring at me with those big old eyes.” 
Immediately he closed his eyes. Although the black fabric concealed the lower portion of his face, you could just tell he was wearing some stupid grin by the slight crinkle appearing on the bridge of his nose and the mirth dancing in his tone. “Sorry, sorry! This is all just so exciting! What are we going to do now? Everything smells so good! Oh, what’s all that––” 
When the sultan seemed set on some shady foreign merchants selling a variety of unlabeled goods, you grabbed the back of his collar, preventing him from dashing across the busy streets and being run over by carts hauling goods or being scammed for all the cash he had, or worse. “Hold on. When was the last time you actually went out? Like, as a normal person.” 
“Oh, the last time was… the beginning of never, actually. This is my first time!” The sultan beamed. 
Kalim was a merchant’s dream, like a sitting duck susceptible to astronomical prices and greedy exchanges. But more like a golden goose instead of a sitting duck. For now, the plan was to safeguard him. He already owed you for saving his life when calling out that assassin with the poison, but there had to be a definite connection. The sultan would be your plan B, should all else fail when attempting to acquire the lamp with the vizier Jamil. If Jamil were to go down, you would betray him in a heartbeat, and turn to Kalim. However, in order for Kalim to truly believe you, the trust had to be as solid as the gold that filled his palace. 
“Of course it is. I should’ve guessed.” Resisting the urge to just drop him off at the gates and enjoy your freedom, you opted that the safest options would just be the food stalls and he would be entertained by all the happenings in the market.
And you had been right, but what you didn’t take into account was how talkative he might be. Even as he happily munched away on street food sold at various stalls and carts. “You know, it makes me sad that I can’t go out like this. This is the first time I can stand in the middle of the city, without people crowding and staring. People just walk past me as if I’m nothing–– do you know how crazy that is?” 
He was sultan, and a prince before that, so he must’ve been accustomed to everyone bowing to him as he passed. All eyes would be on him, but here? Not a single person gave a passing glance. 
Taking a bite of the skewed spiced meat and grilled vegetables you bought for yourself, you shrugged at his words before finally adding in your own two cents. “If you take away your title, you’re just a guy.” 
“Just a guy…” He murmured quietly, like he never really considered the fact that without his name and his family’s wealth, he was practically a nobody. Taking a slow and concentrated bite of his own skewer, he allowed the taste to settle before looking down at it with a sense of wonder. “This is delicious! I’ve never had the privilege of just eating food without a taste tester. I might have to bring the man who made this back to the palace with me.” 
“Don’t blow your own cover.” 
“I won’t, I won’t! It’s just…” Kalim appeared to look down thoughtfully, taking another bite. As a sultan, he was probably so pampered and protected that he never once tasted street food or walked on a dirt road before. “Today, you’ve done something truly special for me, my friend. You gave me something worth more than gold or gems, you gave me a once in a lifetime experience! These days it’s hard to trust anyone around me.” 
Pausing mid bite, you raised an eyebrow and listened attentively. Possible intel? This could be useful, good information to store in the back of your mind for a later time to utilize when it was most advantageous. 
“All the servants are loyal for the most part, but that’s because there’s rules and payment involved. Sometimes, there’s one or two among them that have tried to harm me and my family.” He continued softly, almost seriously. This wasn’t like his usual cheery demeanor and loud tone. Right now his gaze was eerily calm and he spoke quietly, just loud enough so you could hear as you stood beside him. “For a while, I was okay with it. That’s how I grew up, it was my normal. But then I got older, my parents passed on, I got married for a little while but that didn’t last. Even some of my siblings, who I thought I could trust, turned against me just to get to the throne. It seems like everyone I love is either taken away from me or turns against me.” 
In that moment, he turned to face you, gazing at you with those big red eyes.  
Softly, he pleaded, “Promise me you won’t be like that? Taken away from me or turned against me–– I don’t think I could bear it. I can’t believe I never spoke to you properly sooner than I did! We could’ve been best friends by now!” His soft hands clutched yours, as he still awkwardly held the skewer between his thumb and pointer finger. 
You began freaking out a bit when his hands moved up to your face, squishing your cheeks between his palms as he brought your face closer to his 
“I mean, you make me so happy I could just kiss you! It wouldn’t be hard.” 
There was no way you just accidentally snagged a sultan. How? You of all people! With the rotten personality and a heart so shriveled and three sizes too small that it could rival the Grinch’s own beating core. Oh this made things too easy. Kalim was now the ace hidden up your sleeve. If worse came to worse and the original plan had to be abandoned, well, certainly playing the role of the sultan’s favorite little lover wasn’t too bad. At least until you could obtain the lamp. 
Certainly while the sultan was oblivious, he wasn’t dumb. However, he was most likely no expert when it came to love, as it appeared he wasn’t the most skilled at basic interactions from his cushy palace life. It couldn’t be that hard to keep him seduced, could it? Surely if he miraculously felt attracted to you, it was possible to keep him hooked for a while, until you had the wishes you desired. 
All it took was a single kiss on his forehead, to see those ruby red eyes dazzle so brightly in the sunlight. Although his lower face was concealed by the fabric around his head, he was bound to be grinning ear-to-ear like an idiot. And wrapped around your pinky to have at your disposal. “Happy?” 
Eagerly he nodded, taking a deep breath to hold so he wouldn’t squeal with joy. What a sucker. “So so happy, my dove!” 
“My dove? Huh…” At the little nickname, you sigh and shrug, stopping yourself from rolling your eyes so as to not appear too cold toward his advances and words. “Then let’s go back now before they go looking for you. Oh, look over there, what a beautiful bracelet…” You casually remark, gesturing toward a stand across the road that sold a variety of jewelry. If you had to kiss up to a man, might as well make it all worth it by causing his pockets to hurt. But what was a bit of gold and jewelry to his pockets that ran so deep? 
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“What is that…?” The vizier demanded, glaring at you. When he returned, he was in a foul mood. It must’ve been because the story was progressing and that thief got trapped in the Cave of Wonders with the lamp, but he said nothing about it other than it’s gone. However, even when he was outraged by his recent failure, he still noticed the golden bands wrapped around your arms. 
Seeing where his gaze was directed, you lifted your arm and showed off the golden bands speckled with white diamonds and decorated with swirls within the metal itself. “Oh, this? You like? The sultan gifted them to me.” You grinned, noticing his frown deepening. Using the opportunity, you flaunted. “I think that chump has taken a liking to me ever since I saved his skin.” 
"So I heard of your heroic deed." If the vizier had laser vision, he’d be searing your bracelet into a puddle of molten metal liquid by how hard he was glaring. “Don’t lose sight of what we’re after. In the end, the lamp can provide enough wealth to put that tiny gaudy thing to shame.” 
At his words dissing the rather expensive and delicately crafted accessory, your eyes widened as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Ohhhh, I see… You’re jealous! Ha! You’re mad! Stay mad!” 
A scowl etched his way onto his features as he hissed, “You think I’m jealous…?!” Pausing, he collected himself. Or at least, he tried to. But it was probably difficult to do so with the reminder in the back of his mind that his victory was within his grasp, only to be fumbled. Taking a deep breath, he seethed, “No, I am not jealous. In fact, you’re doing me a favor by distracting that airhead and also that bratty prince in the process. So, continue. I encourage you, but remember who your efforts are for. Now, there has to be another way to find another person worthy to go into that cave…” 
Scoffing, you readjusted the bracelet over your arm. Such a shiny thing that would’ve cost a small fortune back home. “Don’t worry, even though you’re a despicable serpent, you’re still my favorite.” Whether that was true or not, it was best to stay in his good graces. “I heard what happened from the few guards you took with you… it’ll be fine. The lamp is gotta still be there under all that sand.”
Ignoring your words, he still paused when he heard them, but he didn’t acknowledge them in the slightest. In fact, he only gave a command without so much as a glance in your direction. “Go get me my tome from that shelf.” 
Offering a smile without the pretentiousness, you went over to the shelf and picked the heavy tome he required. Almost everyday he seemed to read from this thing. “Okay, master, I’ll get you the dark wizard daily so you can enchant yourself some bitches.”
Bringing his fingers to his head, he rubbed the bridge of his nose as if in annoyance. For a moment you thought he might snap, but instead he only muttered, “I already have one that talks day in and day out, endlessly bothering me to no end. I do not need another one of you.” 
“Haha–– Wait, what?” 
That cold expression didn’t change, until his eyes wandered down to your arm. And as he continued speaking slowly, he grabbed your wrist within his hand. He removed the golden bracelets Kalim had bought for you in the market. Those golden bands were eventually in his hands. At their brilliant shine, he scowled and tossed them aside. On your arms, he placed silver ones. Silver bands that curled around your arms like snakes, to replace the ones the sultan gifted you. 
“What I mean is…” Using his golden staff, he extended it outward, using the cobra head on it like a hook to turn your head towards where he was seated, directing your gaze to his eyes. Those gray eyes were hypnotizing, this was what it must’ve felt like when Kalim was met face-to-face with the cobra head on his vizier’s staff. However, there was no magic being used at the moment. “You’re mine, not Kalim’s. Do you understand?” 
You frown as he switches them, closely examining the shine of your new bracelet. “Gold is shinier than silver…” 
He sighed, irked. “Then I’ll just make sure to take a gem, as big as your greed, from the treasury and have it engraved into one heavy necklace. Now––” Seeing you grin in content at his promise for another shiny treasure, he continued from where he left off. “You are mine. My vassal. Say it back to me. Yours.”
Jamil was dead serious as he spoke, clearly not in the mood for too many jokes or teasing. And for once, you were too stunned for words to blurt out anything. Besides, it wasn’t like you could when he was so close and staring at you so intensely. 
“You… Yours?” You parrot awkwardly, wincing at the way it came out of your mouth. However, the young man still keeping you close with his staff seemed content with your response. 
Those gray eyes remained focused on you. His eyes were thin and sharp, making it look like he wore eyeliner. As cruel and cold as he could be behind that calm and polite facade, there was a mysterious charm to him. It was as enticing as it was dangerous, and yet that was how you liked most things. Curse him for that. 
It’s strange. You thought he would be more enraged about the lamp and the incident at the Cave of Wonders. However, he seemed almost calm as he gazed at you. And without his fancy garbs composed of so many layers that pooled around him, he didn’t look so intimidating. The black sleeveless shirt he wore was loose but intricately decorated, and his pants looked like flowing silk. There wasn’t even that headpiece over his hair, which made him look… normal. If that were even possible. It made you forget the fact that he was a villainous vizier, meant to eventually go mad with power and accidentally curse himself to an eternity of solitude and servitude when he finally wished to become an all-power genie. Maybe if you could steer him down that path, you could have him for yourself as a second wish-granter...
“Mine.” He confirmed, giving you a hard stare as he lowered his staff. With a hand, he guided your fingers to his long dark tresses. Most of it was loose, but some strands were in thin braids that extended all the way up to his scalp. When you delicately pinched one of the braids between your fingers, the braids tied so tightly made them look like little scales. Slowly you unravel them for him, he didn’t protest. In fact, he appeared almost relaxed. “I’ve let him take away many things from me. Too many things. And I’m not about to let him snatch you away too.” 
“Eh, he’s annoying. Silly, but annoying. You on the other hand… my boss who’s a tall, dark, and sinister ugly man.” 
His eyes watched your every movement, looking on idly as your fingers slowly untwined his braids. So casually you were touching a man who had committed unspeakable crimes, most of which you could not even begin the picture. What else had he done to defend the sultan when it was his duty? What had he done to climb the ranks and try to climb even higher to the most dangerous heights? How many souls had he sacrificed to the Cave of Wonders? How many assassins did he personally fend off? How did he punish and silence those that dare try to reveal his secrets and plans working behind the scenes without the royal family or others taking notice? 
Jamil crossed his arms, indifferent to your insult. His gaze never once left your figure as he replied smoothly. “You’re a terrible liar… If I was as ugly as you claimed, you wouldn’t be staring at me like that or touching me. Now, sit down.” He was close–– too close when he added the next words in a way that left you puzzled as to what exactly he could’ve meant. “You’ll be rewarded for recognizing my greatness, before anyone else did. But for now.” He handed you a scroll. "Read, find something useful of the lamp or the cave."
Maybe the most unnerving thing about Jamil, was his mysterious allure. The sultan you knew was cheery and laidback, the prince was spirited and independent, and the thief you would learn about in due time. But the vizier? It seemed impossible to pinpoint anything to him. One moment he was stoic and silent, the next he could be taking your banter and come up with a witty reply, and the very next second he was enraged and permanently extinguishing a life. Yet he wasn’t wildly violent nor too charming that it felt like a mask. And yet, you couldn’t distinguish was was genuine emotion from him or just acts with different intentions behind them. And that was the most concerning part about the vizier–– did he truly like you or was this some elaborate facade?
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The following day you were awoken by thumping. Staying up late to assist the vizier search through old scrolls and books, wasn’t the brightest idea. The night was a bit of a blur, as you had stayed up so late researching with him. It was a blur of printed text, bickerings and snide remarks, fingers running through hair, and intense gazes, among other things. As you awoke later in the morning to an uproar from outside and a shaking of the ground like an earthquake. Trumpets and bells served as your alarm, as you fell out of the desk you had slumped over last night, a blanket over your shoulder that you hadn’t placed. 
Outside was quite a parade that could put all festivals to shame. White stallions carrying men with banners, camels carrying drummers whose sounds vibrated in the air, bands marching in the most vibrant uniforms, dancers in fine purples like pristine peacocks. It was like a traveling circus, zoo, and party all in one. And in your dazed state, the realization arrived suddenly–– 
“That’s the thief––!” 
Instantly you ran to your own room, or rather, the old vassal’s room, to wash up and change as quickly as humanly possible. You knew this would happen eventually, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. The thief, now a princess, was here! Here, arriving with a genie masquerading as their most faithful trusted servant. The lamp, she had the lamp with her! 
Once changed, you stepped back into the vizier’s tower. There was no one there, he even cleaned up after his research session, leaving no evidence behind of his plot with the Cave of Wonders. No book, scroll, or even a page was left. Damn, he was good. In your mind there’s no doubt he’s cleaned up after other plots and murders. What a slippery cretin. 
Quickly departing from the tower, you made your way through the grand halls, past the guards and servants. Although most were entranced by the grand spectacle that princess, or rather a crook, managed to display through the streets of the city. To think all that splendor and so much more was just within reach. But just because the finish line was in sight, did not mean that it was safe. There were more ways to die here than the number of tales Scheherazade had to tell. While having the favor of the sultan and vizier was certainly both an ego boost and a benefit, it didn’t make you invincible. That could only truly happen when you finally had the lamp in hand. 
As soon as you turned a corner, you heard laughter. Immediately, you got the wind knocked out of you and went flying. Literally. You went tumbling backwards, some type of fabric draping over your face and the weight of a body crashing into yours as you collapsed on your back in an awkward angle. You were milliseconds away from screaming bloody murder and ready to tear into whoever could be blamed, but you shut your mouth and clenched your teeth shut when you heard the familiar giggling. 
The cloth, whatever it was that had been over your head and obscuring your vision, was removed. However, it wasn’t removed by a person, it moved on its own. That’s when you realized it wasn’t a piece of cloth, it was a piece of fabric, woven wool to be more specific. The wool that composed the magic flying carpet from the story. It moved like a sentient being as you blinked at it in shock, and it extended one of its tasseled yellow ends to dust you off. 
“How in the hell…?” 
“My dove! I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?” He was gasping a bit from laughing so much on that magic carpet joy ride he must’ve just been on, the adrenaline still pumping through his system from flying within the palace’s high-ceiling rooms. 
Yes, you simple-minded idiot, you hit me like a train at full speed! Is what you would’ve said if you could, but it wouldn’t do to say that aloud when others might hear and get the wrong impression. It would attract too much attention if someone was blatantly disrespectful to the sultan. “No, I’m fine––” Your backside would be aching for a whole day. God, if only there wasn't a need for formalities, you would–– “And thank you… carpet.” The thanks came out awkwardly, as you were unused to thanking carpets but it seemed like a rather harmless and curious thing. 
“This contraption that the princess has brought is wonderful! You should try it!” 
The sultan gestured to the carpet. For such a priceless magical item that was stuck in a cave for who knew how long, it was in shockingly good condition. It had vibrant blues, and yellow patterns and symbols etched onto its surface. Yeah, you were definitely gonna keep it once you were in charge. 
“You know, I really think that my cousin Jaseer will love her! You have to meet her! And well…” He awkwardly scratched his cheek, looking somewhat sheepish as he mustered up the courage to speak the next words. His cheeks grew warm when he averted his gaze. Yet after a moment, his eyes shifted back to you. Such big innocent eyes, like the rarest of rubies. Usually you would try to admire the shine in such gems, but it was impossible to not take note of the obvious adoration within his gaze. “I was thinking, maybe you would like to join me later? We’ll be holding a banquet tonight, a party to celebrate our guests. But also, I wanted to spend time with you. What do you think? Is that alright?” 
For a moment you thought about it, slightly distracted when the carpet’s tassels were brushing against your arm and it appeared to stand so close. Not that you blamed the thing. If you were trapped in the Cave of Wonders like it was for so long, you would’ve gone insane. Maybe the thing just craved company or attention. Maybe it craved freedom. 
Kalim was providing the perfect excuse. You were the distraction, while Jamil could do whatever nefarious deeds he needed to complete in order for the plot to progress. However, it was already past the tipping point. Last night within those books, there was mention of the magic carpet within the Cave of Wonders. So chances are, the vizier already knows the princess is a fraud. 
“Hm, sure. Why not?” 
“Yes! Yes!” Quickly, he took your hands, clutching them tight. His energy was contagious apparently, because the carpet who had calmed down from the flight, received this burst of energy and was spinning around you too with great speed. “You won’t regret this! We’re going to have so much fun. And don’t worry about being overwhelmed by everyone, I know it can be a lot. So I’ll have an area set up just for us, away from the party guests, okay? That way, when we’re together and want to be alone, we can retreat there. Alright?”
Somehow with that invitation, while Jaseer and the princess whose name you’ve yet to learn, let alone care for, were likely learning about each other during the festivities and going off on their own romantic flight on the magic carpet, you were keeping the sultan distracted as the vizier had other matters to handle. Even when you were certainly not elegant or charming in even the slightest sense, appealing to the bubbly young man was surprisingly easy. Perhaps it was because he already was attracted to whatever he saw within you. 
Forced to entertain his request for a dance when the music began, he pulled you back behind a curtain to avoid people seeing, much to your great relief. He had a great big smile as he spoke about various things from the happenings of his kingdom to his own personal matters. 
“Do you care if I was married?” He asked a bit nervously, looking unsure if he should have even mentioned that to you. As far as you knew, the sultan was previously married, but nothing really came of the union. For whatever reason, he was single now with no children and his wife was no longer in the picture. Some creeping suspicion conjured up the possibility that Jamil had something to do with that. 
“I do not care.” You answered honestly. Why was he even asking that like how a boy would shyly ask a girl he liked if they mind the fact that he dated somebody before? Talk about zero charm. Was the only reason he got married because of his status? Most likely. Even if he was filthy rich and powerful, maybe even elegant looking in a way, he wasn’t exactly marriage material. “Tell me anyway. Details. I want details.” 
Surprised, he blinked at you. “Me? You wanna know about that? Well, it’s not very interesting… I would say it’s a long story, but it’s really not.” He chuckled a bit dryly, absentmindedly fiddling with the ends of the curtains where they had privacy on a balcony with a wonderful view of the port where the city met the waters. “I was young, an eighteen-year-old prince. Accidents happened to most of my siblings that were my age, so I was next in line. There’s a law that states that those next in line for the throne have to be married by a certain age. My father picked her when I couldn't decide. She was a princess from the north where apparently it’s all cold and snowy. A year or so after the wedding, my father and mother passed in an accident. Then, later on, she was gone too.” 
These sort of details were never mentioned in any rendition of the story that you remembered. At least, none that you recalled. However, it had been a while since you read them, so it could just be your memory. And the fact that in those takes, the sultan was an old man. “Do you ever miss her?” 
“Hm… sometimes. I thought I would miss her more, I feel like I should miss her a lot, but… I don’t.” He admitted quietly, lounging on his stomach so his arms were folded in front of him and his cheek was resting on his arm. “Over the years, I feel like I’ve lost track of all the accidents. My brother married into the royal family of a neighboring nation and urged them to wage war on our home, my sister attempted to bribe bodyguards to do her dirty work, aunts and uncles sent assassins.” 
“Drama.” You hummed as you lay across from him, laying flat on your back instead of your stomach. 
At your casual remark he almost laughed. Maybe that was his way of processing trauma, through humor and positivity. All this betrayal and hurt was certainly enough to drive someone mad. Maybe he wasn’t completely right in the head. “Okay, this is getting depressing, so I’ll stop. But you see why I like you? Why I trust you with my life? You’re so… so… real. It doesn’t feel like you sugarcoat things, and you’re so blunt! No one ever talks to me like that. You talk to me as if I’m just a guy, and nothing else.” 
He remembered what you said that time in the market. “You are just a guy.” You repeat. And that’s all he would be. If you couldn’t get the lamp, and Jamil got his greedy hands around it first, well maybe it was worth wishing for the vizier to spare the poor sultan. Besides, he was likable. Annoying, but entertaining. “And you really shouldn’t.” Trust. He shouldn’t trust you.
“But I do!” He pushed himself up, until his head was right above yours. Those ruby red eyes gazing right down at you, his face so close to yours that his nose brushed against yours. Gold around his ears dangled, making small rings like wind chimes. Kalim peered at you so immensely, so focused, but it was a gentle tender gaze as he lowered his face closer to yours. “I trust you, so, so much…” 
It only took a few moments for things to get out of hand. Oh, it was so easy, too easy. You were no tempest, but Kalim made it simple. Like toying with a doll. So after several minutes in, you hear the familiar voice of the vizier calling you, you immediately pull away and sit up. Panic was plastered over your face at the thought of being seen by that envious viper. When Kalim sat up with you, he looked much more dazed, like a lovestruck fool. To which you immediately pushed him down and hissed. “Shit! What’s he going to say if he finds me here with the sultan?” 
Part of his white hair was messy, as the cloth he usually wore around his head fell off sometime ago. His short strands stuck out at some angles, and he didn’t bother recollecting his composure as he was still dizzy. “Lucky sultan?” 
When he gave you a stupid grin, you pushed him aside. Luckily the spot was relatively hidden by curtains, pillows, and plush blankets and carpets. “Shut up…! Just, stay here.” 
Quickly you smoothed down your appearance before exiting the area, entering the halls to search for the vizier that had called you. Apparently, the time to act was here. Mere moments ago, he had instructed his loyalest soldiers under his command to bring in the princess they had cornered. 
So by the time you arrived at the vizier’s tower, there in the open window strapped to a chair atop an elevated surface of a table was the princess. Beautiful, sure. Especially when she wore such flashy garbs of pure white and purple. Cleverly she had wrapped a cloth around her head like a shayla, hiding her hair which could’ve been a key feature used to identify her, besides her face of course which she couldn’t exactly conceal under these circumstances. Her feet and wrists were bound tightly with rope, and if her chair tipped backwards she would meet a cold end in the salty waters of the sea right below. 
There was a distinct hint of nervousness in her tone as she attempted to persuade the two guards that this had been a misunderstanding, that they must’ve had no idea who she was, you watched the pair of soldiers double-check the security of the ropes bounding her. While in walked the vizier. It seemed like he was busy while you were taking a… break. Now, if the princess was here, where was that cursed lamp? Your eyes scanned her figure, searching for pockets she might’ve had. 
“We know who you are, Aliyyah.” The vizier spoke, sounding way too casual at the moment as he walked over to his tome situated on his desk. So that was the thief’s true name.
“Aliyyah…? I don’t know who that is–– I’m Princess Alya!” 
Jamil interrupted her, as she looked increasingly anxious. “A princess from a kingdom which does not exist. And who arrived on a magic carpet told to only be obtainable from the Cave of Wonders.” 
Carpet. That’s right. The carpet and the monkey the thief owned were still somewhere within the palace. There couldn’t be any loose-ends. Not when the lamp’s location was still unknown. It could be anywhere within the palace. 
Silently stepping over to the door where two more guards were situated to look-out, you allowed the vizier and thief to continue their stand-off while you opened the door slightly to whisper to one of the additional guards. “Go to our guest’s quarters. There, you should find our visitor’s pet and that magical carpet. Do not let them leave the quarters. And do not go alone, bring multiple other soldiers if you have to, but this is to remain discreet. I don’t care what you do to the monkey, but I better not see so much as a loose piece of string on that carpet. Capeesh?”
Being the vizier’s vassal had its benefits. As they usually only ever responded to the vizier himself, but since you were known to be the wise young man’s trusted advisor, your words carried weight among the staff wielding weapons and wearing armor. So obediently, the soldier nodded and immediately went off to see that the task was done. Afterwhich, you closed the heavy wooden door shut to prevent any sound from escaping, and returned your attention back to the vizier and the thief. 
“I’m afraid you’ve worn out your welcome.” His tone was no longer so casual. There was an icy coldness to it as he stalked closer, quickly growing tired of her adamant denial. “If I throw you off of that balcony, and you are who you say you are, you will die a watery death.” 
If Jamil pushed one of his own guards into a well for even considering the action of refusing orders, well, pushing a thief turned princess off several floors into deep waters was something he wouldn’t hesitate doing. So you watched carefully as the severity of the situation was settling on the princess, as she struggled in her bonds and her seat. However, there was no lie or tricks that could get her out of this one. 
“And if you survive, it can only be because of the lamp. Now…” 
Waving off the pair of soldiers, they left, leaving only the thief, the vizier, and yourself. As the dark-haired sorcerer did the familiar movement of lifting the end of his spear so it was directly against her collarbone, the princess gulped and an ominous look came over the vizier’s face. When the princess glanced at you, you only grinned and wiggled your fingers like waving goodbye. However, when she turned to face you, that’s when your sharp eyes caught a glimpse of something sparkly in the cloth around her hair, right behind her neck. Slowly you walked closer.
“Where is the lamp?” Jamil demanded. 
“Listen,” The young woman pleaded. She was young, about your age. And surely you knew that she would die a watery death, because now you knew where the lamp was. Whatever name she went by, or whoever she was, Princess Alya of a faraway nation or the thief Aliyyah, it wouldn’t matter. “I swear to you,” Her voice wavered with uncertainty. “I am––” 
You bumped the tip of his staff, with enough pressure to tip her off the end just as you leaned forward to reach the cloth around her skull. Your grip was on the fabric, not her. So she went tumbling down multiple floors, plunging into dark brine. Her scream was cut off by the sound of a splash and the breaking of wood. The chair must’ve broken upon impact, but she went sinking down and down. The only thing preventing you from falling as well, was the curved cobra head Jamil had used like a hook around your back to secure you from falling. And in your hands, wrapped in the silk white cloth, lay what would’ve been her salvation, what was your salvation–– the lamp. 
“This is convenient. Now it’s time for you to answer the same question I asked her.” 
“What? Aren’t you going to pull me to safety?” You stared at him wide-eyed, as he practically dangled you above your doom. Yes, the lamp was in hand, but you couldn’t rub it to summon the genie. Not when your fingers were gripping it tightly so it wouldn’t fall into the waters below and risk hitting the jagged rocks, while your other hand gripped the golden staff to avoid falling, your toes just barely on the edge. Even the slightest wrong move, would send you plummeting to those sharp stones and salty waters so far below. Could you survive that fall? Maybe, if you could avoid the rocks. Which seemed like a slim chance. 
Ignoring your growing fear, he continued calmly, keeping a steady grip on his staff. A small tremble could unbalance you and make you fall. Or, he could be so cruel as to let you drop. But, you had the lamp, which might’ve been the only reason he held on. “I know who you are, criminal.” 
Down below, there was no sign of the thief emerging. The only thing that came up to the surface of the waves was a purple sash from her garbs. Something about his words was enough to tell you that he didn’t mean the role you were playing, he meant you. You who were arrested and sent here as punishment, as your own personal hell, to die for your crimes. And here you were, just as those bastard judges wanted, on the very brink of death. Literally. “You know nothing about me––” 
“I know everything about you. I know your crimes, your anger, your burning hatred for those who have wronged you. I know.” Gray eyes narrowed at you, but his hold was unwavering. You couldn’t save yourself, not in this position. You were at his mercy. Even when your heart felt like it was beating rapidly, and you were thinking a mile a minute of possible ways to get out of this situation only for each idea to end in failure. You heard his words he spoke bitterly, like they had a deeper meaning. But then he added, “I know you hide a knife in your shawl, a second in your pillowcase, and a third under your mattress because you never trusted me completely. It pains me to see you reduced to this.” 
No, he knew nothing about you. The real you, even if he thought he did. He could never imagine what it was like, the things you had done. Even if he somehow discovered the truth, that you were not his trusted vessel but acted like them, you weren't them. “You–– You don’t know me!” 
“A criminal from another world, sent into what was like a story. You thought you could trick me and everyone else. But you underestimate me. As soon as you opened your big mouth, I knew you were a fraud. What did you call me? A two-faced snake? Ironic.” 
You had called him that, while playing a role to trick him this entire time. Just as the protagonist had tried, and look where she ended up because of that. Dead. Drowned by water and salt, with a body that would either become fish food or wash ashore as an unrecognizable corpse. How did he know? There was no possible way to know! You told no one! Trusted no one!
The air was a bitter cold. Moonlight shone on his face, letting you see the royal vizier’s cunning features and how he was grinning. He was grinning at your predicament, as he held your fate in his hands. Your arm was starting to feel numb from holding on for so long, but you couldn’t let go. There was no way you would let go of the lamp or of yourself, after everything and how far you got. When glory and sweet revenge on everyone was literally in the palm of your hand.
“But you leave yourself unguarded when you sleep.” That was the answer, you realized with horror. That was how he knew way more than he should! Jamil invaded your very mind, controlling it with this very cursed staff he held you from. “They wronged you, those above you. Underestimate you. We’re more alike than you would like to verbally admit.” 
“Jamil, you––! Vile liar, son of a––” 
“That’s sorcerer to you.” He corrected you. 
That’s right–– in the story once the vizier gets a brief moment of victory, he uses his wishes to place himself atop the social hierarchy of power. First sultan, then a sorcerer, then a genie. Above a sultan: a sorcerer. But why was he skipping the sultan stage? 
The vizier turned serious, stretching out his hand that did not hold the staff. He held out the palm of his thin hand, offering a twisted grin that made your stomach weave into knots. Speaking firmly, he offered a once in a lifetime deal. And it was either accept his deal, or die for the price of what was committed. “I told you, you are mine. I meant that. I plan to be something great, much greater than that simpleton. So, once I become the most powerful man in the world, you may take the title of sultan if it’s what you wish. All you have to do is hand me the lamp, my Treasured Vassal.”
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samodivaa · 2 months
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Dip it, Lick it
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Warnings - smut, oral (m), overstimulation
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Bucky watches you lick the ice cream before you wrap your lips around it, closing your eyelids and savoring the flavor which dances on your taste buds. You slowly withdraw the ice cream from your mouth and open your eyes. You smile innocently at his rapt attention as you continue to talk about your day while Bucky thinks about those sweltering kisses from your frosty lips―not so innocently.
But then something crosses his face, a thought, a hesitation, and he tries to shift slightly. It doesn’t help that you are straddling his lap on the couch. Not now. Not yet―Bucky keeps eye contact, gazing lovingly at you as naughtiness emanates from his eyes—you stare at him. You have curiously thoughtful and attentive eyes, eyes that are very pretty and very nice, he loves when you stare at his blue orbits—such divine orbs—not just one shade of color, but...many, with a hint of confusion glimmering, he sees it. Your eyes narrow slightly.
Without taking his eyes off your face even for a moment, but his expression is very strange, he gazes at you as though you are an object a couple of miles distant, or as though he is looking at your portrait and not at your real self at all, with a look of weariness, focusing on his lungs, on his ability to take deep breaths, to soothe with oxygen as he wants words to rolls off his tongue. He is hopelessly enslaved by something—lust. This purgatory of the spirit, arousal is something that he cannot hide, not with that huge tent between his legs.
“Bucky, are you listening to me?” “Of course I am,” he says unsteadily. He smiles, wanting your voice aimed at him, he wants his face to absorb the direction of your eyes—but your gaze moves downwards. To his crotch. Your eyes look up and Bucky’s are black as chips of obsidian staring back into yours, two black holes, letting nothing out, not even information. You don’t say anything—at least, not with your mouth. Your eyes tell him a different story. And slowly, clumsily, you lean forward, your lips find his, the coldness of yours and the warmth of his tongue beneath yours, disintegrating your entire body. His tongue spears more into your mouth, and the taste of him, mixes with the flavor of the ice cream, sweet—closed-mouth kisses that still feel scandalous, but too delicious to resist.  And you thought that you might be wrong, but then a deep sound comes from him, almost a growl and instinctively you know it is a sound of approval. You chuckle softly when you pull back and if Bucky thought your mouth was dangerous, your chuckle should’ve been classified as a weapon. Sin in a sound. “Turned on by me eating ice cream?” you ask, voice barely audible. You take the ice cream in your month while looking to see his blue eyes soaking you in as Bucky groans and your core melts at the sound, your breath stops as his tongue skims his lower lip. He shakes his head, but there's something more than lust in his eyes as he stares at your lips. He wants more. “I. Will. Try. It. On. Your. Dick.” As you draw closer again, his eyes widen a little at the boldness of your words. You punctuate each word with a chilly kiss along his jaw, making your way to his ear. You bite the lobe, and Bucky’s cock twitches as the fingers of your free hand drift lower, from his abs, to his stomach. The slight touch of brow sweat-coated, his breathing uneven. He moans against your lips. His metal hand slides down between your legs and he presses a fingertip against your knickers. You just keen and your hips buck forwards. His body is on fire, his hands move to your hips, encircling your waist and pulling you onto his cock, seeking friction. Bucky runs three fingers along your covered cunt, soft folds through the thin cotton fabric. He wants to stroke you slowly, but you suddenly pull away to rise on your feet just to kneel between his legs seconds later—a tremendous rush runs through Bucky’s body, as if every cell is electrified at once, he even has to bite his lip to not moan at the sight in front of him, why is he so desperate? “Bucky” you whisper, breaking him out of his trance. 
His heart races as you reach for his waistband, sliding his sweats enough to free his cock. His dick is straining against his briefs with a wet patch forming from the precum, and you watch as his dick springs up and then falls slightly, reaching his stomach. He stares at you apprehensively, and you wrap your much smaller hand around his length, hearing him suck in a breath as you lick the ice cream again before leaning down to kiss his tip, he almost cums at the sensation of the coldness hitting his cock. Perhaps his breathing eases. Perhaps he looks a trifle more peaceful, despite his eyes rolling beneath their lids. In this moment, his mind is between two elements: one, excitement, the other, focusing on not cumming on the spot. He tries to pay attention, but the kiss with your cold lips is electric and pulsing—his loud moan makes you waste no time. You pump his cock a few times as you bring the ice cream into your mouth once again, swirling your tongue over it before pushing his dick down your throat. His cock is so large that you have to fight not to scrape your teeth against it, flattening your tongue under the base of it so you decide to focus on sucking only the tip. “Wait, stop…I-I need a moment” he nearly sobs out the words. His eyes are open, face flushed, ragged breathing which he fails to hide, his extraordinary earnestness and self-control is non-existent, he can’t keep his composure while trembling all over. An impossible pleasure goes through him, making him gasp, legs start to quiver with the impending orgasm—he has a whole body shudder while finishing and you're so mean so you keep sucking his tip.
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sigilsmut · 10 months
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𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 - 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈
Damn my ass did not make it in time again. Am I still gonna post it? Sure why not.
This goes out to @sanjisblackasswife​ as a small present. I hope this is ok Timi 😭 🖤 Happy (belated) birthday
CW: established relationship, cunnilingus, vaginal penetration, lingerie, a few petnames, Sanji being a pervert per usual, just plain nastiness
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“How are you fairing, mon cher? Are you still with me?” Sanji’s muffled voice asks you as if he hadn’t snatched three orgasms from you in the past 2 hours. 
As expected, you couldn’t form a proper sentence, your mind as hazy as your watery vision. He was three fingers deep into your pussy while his other hand kept a vice grip on your body. That didn’t stop it from squirming as much as it could, however. A string of moans blessed his ears like the sweetest melody. Smooth, creamy legs spasming around his dizzy head.
The blonde had surprised you with a heartful breakfast earlier, slaving over the stove at the ass crack of dawn to make sure your birthday started off on the right foot. When you expressed concern over how tired he’d be, he simply brushed it off, reassuring you that ‘it’s what my goddess deserves’.
Of course, a banquet was also held for your special day. It was filled with numerous activities, rounds of bubbly drinks, and little heartwarming speeches of how each Straw Hat (in their own quirky way) was grateful to have you in their lives. And you were just as grateful to have them in yours.
But what kickstarted the moment between you two was towards the end of the night, where Sanji had walked in on you changing. By accident? On purpose? Who fucking knows. If his flushed cheeks, slick grin, and nose running of blood was anything to go off of, he didn’t feel any remorse seeing you in your scantily clad lingerie. 
A baby blue set, complete with white garters and a pair of blue satin panties. All in his favorite color. You went on a birthday shopping spree with Nami earlier and the set caught your eye. Thinking it’d be cute for you and your boyfriend, you immediately put it on after purchase. It was apparent now that it was a good choice to make.
After locking the door behind him, his long legs carried him to where you stood near the bed. He gently set his hands on your waist, and after giving him the go-ahead, it was downhill from there.
Hands groping and tracing over areas where his lips followed close behind, no part of your sun-kissed bronze skin was left unmarked. The stubble on his chin tickling your belly and inner thighs as he went along. It’s what led to now, with three of his fingers curling into you and his tongue tracing circles around your clit. The sheets became stained with the mixture of your juices and his saliva, but neither of you seemed to care. The bed shook from how aggressively he humped into the mattress, rolling his hips and dragging his hard on against the sheets. The friction made a delicious burn grow against the tip of his cock, and a groan bellowed from his chest.
“Lemme have another one, Y/N-swan...” He mumbled. He took your clit into his mouth and hummed, picking up the pace with his fingers. Your back arched off the bed, screaming into the darkness of the spare bedroom as you gushed into his mouth. He lapped up everything you gave him and only eased off of you once your fingers pushed his head away. 
“You taste absolutely divine, darling, like the sweetest nectar I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting. I can never get enough of eating you out.” He heartfully grins like the nasty pervert he is.
Finally he sits up and strips himself of his boxers, groaning as his cock sprang free and slapped against his abdomen. In your stupor, you drooled at the sight and weakly reached forward to dab at his tip. He shudders.
“Such a pretty dick, ‘Ji...” you sweetly murmured. You swear you’ve never seen a man move so fast.
You blinked and he was hovering over you. Your body quivered as you realized that he was already pushing inside you, eager to bring you back to cloud nine with him this time. As his pelvis kissed yours, so did your lips, your eyes rolling back into your head as you tasted yourself. The bedframe slammed into the wall as his lithe hips snapped into yours. Your eyes widened, balling the sheets into your fists as you held on for dear life. Sanji gazed down at you in astonishment.
From his perspective, the moon was absolutely gorgeous, but not as gorgeous as you. Sanji thought he might cry, still in disbelief that he got to have and pleasure someone as beautiful as you. Your watery brown eyes looking up at him with so much love, your locs sprawled out all over the pillows and yet framed your face perfectly. Your puffy lips in an ‘O’ shape, crying out from his purposeful thrusts. Your brown skin seemed to be glowing with how the moon shone on you. In his eyes, your beauty outshone all the stars in the sky, your angelic voice reaching the Heavens at this point. 
It’s almost as if that was his goal with how fast he was going. 
His slender hands lifted your lower body, wrapping your smooth legs around his waist to push himself in deeper. The blonde craned his head back and moaned, feeling your velvety walls clamp around his cock in a vice grip. His breath hitched, slamming his hips into you even harder and rolling his mushroom head into that one spot that made your toes curl. The bed creaked and croaked underneath the two of you, and it was absolutely certain that Nami would give you shit for how loud you’re being.
“Gimme another one, cherie, pretty please..” He weakly begged of you. His fingers rubbed over your clit rapidly and you groaned, the amount of pleasure overwhelming you. Your whole body shook as a silent moan escaped. Your walls squeezed again and the tension in your belly released. “S-Sanji-!”
“That’s it, princess. Let go for me” he encouraged you. He mewled as you reached your high for seemingly the fifth time tonight, your juices gushing all over his pelvis and all over your thighs. His curly brows scrunched together and tears began to swell in his eyes, groaning as he filled your walls with his warm, sticky load. You have never felt fuller than this moment. 
His body curled over you, his hot labored breath in your ear. He turned to you, moving a loc out of his way to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. “Happy birthday, my sweet Y/N.”
“Thank you Sanji.” You smiled lovingly and he returned your expression. Once you calmed your breathing, you reached your hand up to caress his cheek. Sanji was eager to lean into your touch, swooning at how adorable you looked in your after-coitus glow. Suddenly his eyes widened in realization. “I almost forgot.”
He then reached over and took your panties in his grasp, stuffing them in the deep recesses of his pants pocket. You furrowed your brows at his actions, even though you knew good and well what the reason was.
“For safe keeping.” He grinned. He was gonna keep the pair as a reminder of tonight.
“You play too damn much!” You laughed, lightly smacking his shoulder. He laughed with you, stretching back on the bed and collecting you in his arms. Peppering your face in little kisses, he looked up at you with a playful glint in his eyes.
“Would you like to go again? You’re welcome to ride me if you want, you are the birthday girl after all.”
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yawnderu · 5 months
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Immortal She — Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader
For a broken man with nothing to cling to other than his job, obsession can start fast. All it takes is one glimpse at the divine passing figure in the dark forest, his mind taken away from the mission to simply admire how perfect she looks, ignoring all the red flags going off in his head. Red is the color of love anyway, isn't it?
No civilians were ever found in that area, and yet. He keeps getting glimpses of her in the most unlikely places, seeing her passing figure and cherishing the memories every single time he does. It's not often she shows herself to him— sometimes he doesn't see her for weeks or months, sometimes years, yet he keeps her memory alive, not terrified when he sees the dark shadow standing behind him in the mirror.
He's too scared to look away, too scared to blink in fears he won't see the object of his obsession, yet all he can see is her figure. Oh, how he wishes he could see more. How he wishes he could turn around and ravish her in the way he imagines in his restless dreams, praising and worshipping her like the goddess he knows she is.
Water is getting in his eyes from washing his face after waking up from a nightmare, yet he doesn't blink no matter how much it stings. He's been through so much worse, what's a little pain compared to the reward of seeing her figure whole for the first time ever? He's so in love he doesn't even flinch when the figure is suddenly behind him, long nails that resemble claws more than anything are gently patting his bare chest. She's so close, right under the light, yet she's still just a shadow. Just a shadow, until he can see the white of an eye staring back at him through the mirror.
He's so fucked. He's so fucked, not because she will hurt him, but because he can't help falling harder and harder. Is he hallucinating again like when he saw everyone with skulls instead of human faces? Is the brainwashing and torture from Roba still affecting his brain? There's no way— he hasn't hallucinated in years.
Slowly the shadows burn away from her body, revealing the bare figure of his obsession. His muse, which he has been drawing nonstop after shamefully asking Johnny to teach him how to use the pen and paper, perfecting it in no time just to be able to portray her as accurately as he sees her. It's still not good enough— someone like her deserves to be painted for years before it's half as accurate, ignoring all the blisters and blood in his hands, ignoring the fading scars and the new ones. He'd paint her in his own blood even if it takes all of it.
Her head tilts to the side and her lips part as if she's going to say something, yet not a single word comes out of her lips. He realizes she's cold to the touch. Cold to the touch and wet, as if he's being tenderly held by the genesis serpent itself. His hand hesitantly reaches up to hold hers, ignoring the way her claws cut deep into his hand, ignoring the way blood is running down his arm and falling to the floor with an almost delicious drip. He holds her hand for what feels like forever, unblinking as he stares at how perfect their figures look together, like a puzzle piece that has been missing for years.
He doesn't know when exactly he passed out, alone in bed and with no visible wounds. The only proof of her presence that night was leftover dirt in the entrance of his quarters, forming a tiny path towards his bathroom, stopping where they embraced each other.
Making a series of one-shots about this soon.<3
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jymwahuwu · 7 months
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I just learnt what a nursing mother eats affects the taste and color of the breast milk they produce. My brain went into the galaxy upon learning this and my immediate thought was; what hsr men would give their wives what to eat so her milk would taste different.
My take: Jing Yuan would make his wife eat strawberries so the milk will be pinkish and taste like strawberry.
😹Your first reaction is so true lmao I searched for related keywords and found out that it is true- this really brings brainrot. (combined with the description i found in the game lol. i said wanted to write it before but just didn’t have the inspiration)
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According to the Lifitide magazine, General Jing Yuan has to drink a large bowl of freshly squeezed puffergoat milk every morning. The Seat of Divine Foresight has denied this report.
CW: pregnancy, lactation kink
Jing Yuan pays attention to the wife!! You are now taking care of the baby and breastfeeding the baby at home. After hearing this from the doctor, some 💡✨💫 thoughts immediately came to his mind. The General has rearranged your daily meal menu, of course there is still a need for nutritious meals, but why not add some sweet and delicious food? For example, peaches, strawberries, mangoes!! The baby has had enough to drink, and appropriate sharing is normal, right?
Before starting work every day, Jing Yuan drinks the milk from your bud, and the milk can’t wait to flow into his throat. And you put the back of your hand on your lips, holding back your moans and blinking, enduring the surge of pleasure. He licked his lips- drinking some milk that was sweeter and thicker than ever really refreshed him.
One day, you went to the Seat of Divine Foresight to visit your husband and saw Qingzu sighing at the screen. You asked her what's going on, and she showed you the news. One of the recent rumor that general drinks puffergoat milk every morning. She muttered, wondering why people liked to create such gossip.
"Hmm…haha, maybe it's just business promotion. If General Jing Yuan drinks it, it will definitely be a good product."
You laughed a few times and stood uncomfortably, feeling the breasts on your chest swell and wet some fabrics.
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rachalixie · 19 days
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a/n: eid mubarak! i hope this reaches the people that i want it to :) i tried my very best as i don't celebrate personally, but i think that eid is an absolutely beautiful holiday and deserves to be appreciated by all. special thank you to @astraystayyh and @lino-nyangi i love you two so much i hope your celebrations are magnificent and that your tummies are full of good food and you eat lots and lots of sweets <3
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chan arrives in a flurry of excitement, giggling as your younger cousins and siblings flock to him and hang off of his legs. he ruffles their hair, telling them how much they’ve grown since he last saw them, and finishes it off with folded bills that he presses into their hands along with a gentle kiss to the crowns of their heads. one by one, he gains their favor and they squeal about how he’s their favorite uncle - a thought that makes him blush and intertwine his fingers with yours. 
minho helps you cook dish after dish, porcelain and ceramic serving plates stacking up as you cook together. the air in your kitchen smells absolutely divine, spices and saffron and nutty rice steaming away as the two of you flirt around each other and exchange kisses over the sink. he always enjoys learning how to make new recipes, but learning the foods you used to make with your mom as a child is something dear to him.
changbin takes the time to learn things - asks your father what he’s supposed to do because he wants to make sure he’s doing things perfectly. he cares less about the formalities and more of the hidden things he can do, wanting to surprise you just to see that pleased look on your face. you’re making that look now, as he approaches you after having coffee with your father and uncles, and he hands you his empty cup. it’s full of gold chocolate coins, and he sheepishly admits that he didn’t have real gold but he thought it would do. the way you lean up to kiss him, keeping his body between yours and the door so no one can see, tells him that he did just fine.
hyunjin revels in your beauty; though he thinks you’re gorgeous all of the time, something about seeing you in traditional clothes with threads of gold woven into colorful fabrics makes you glow in a way he can’t get enough of. he puts on the finishing touch, sliding intricate jhumkas into your ears, the weight of them a comforting reminder of his fingers brushing against your lobes. he tells you how beautiful you are countless times, whispering it to you so only you can hear, but everyone knows from the blood that rushes to your cheeks in turn.
jisung spends weeks after weeks in secret learning arabic, or rather trying. he stumbles upon his letters, syllables that make no sense to his tongue, but he practices over and over until he can say one thing that he whispers to you just as the clock strikes midnight. eid mubarak, he mumbles as he brushes his fingers across your brow, his eyes shiny in the moonlight as he keeps his gaze fixed on you. he’ll repeat the phrase to your family and friends later, but his clumsy pronunciation and small smile make this first one so special to you.
felix revels in the act of charity always, but sharing it with you brings a lightness to his heart that he can’t get enough of. he’s more motivated than you are, dragging you to homeless shelters and daycares and wherever he can find to volunteer and give back. on the last day, he shyly shows you a list of charities he’s donated to all month, in your name, and you tackle him into a hug with tears in your eyes.
seungmin fits in like he’s been celebrating with you for years. he stuffs his belly full with delicious food, chats with your parents with a wide grin on his face, plays with the children like he raised them himself. he does everything perfectly, knowing when to greet people and when to participate in prayer and where to go. it surprises you in a delightful way, in the same way that he always does when he knows something about you that you don’t even know yourself. you discover later, when you unlock his phone to take photos of him laughing across the room, the extensive research on eid traditions that he has open in his browser.
jeongin is so nervous to meet your extended family for the first time. he fiddles with his hair for an hour, making sure that not a single strand is out of place. he smooths down his clothes when he gets out of the car, and stares at the front door of your parents’ house with wide eyes and an open mouth, and you have to press his jaw up with gentle fingers as your mother opens the door. you watch the nervousness fizzle out as he’s greeted with warm welcomes from everyone, treating like he’s part of the family already. 
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holdinbacksecrets · 3 months
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shadow, my shadow, my shadow
seungcheol: his name in your phone is cherries. no one gets it. it confuses all your friends. people don’t take the time to dissect what’s right in front of them. instead, they hope the answer will drop, release from its stem all on its own. here it is: he stains your skin; he fills your belly with laughter, with love, and it’s deep, an alluring maroon. the only color you ask for at the nail salon. the only color painted across your lips on a friday night. the only color saturating the sky in your dreams
jeonghan: he’s always just a telephone call away. he’s always just a handful of dialed digits away. he’s always close enough to touch before slipping away. he’s never close enough to believe. he’s a really fucking good dream, but it falters as soon as you wake up. he’s an almost. he’s an if only i had better luck
soonyoung: his embrace is overwhelming. it used to burn your skin. it used to keep you up for a night or two. it used to make you shake and press your hands against his chest, whispering too close, you’re too close to me. so you started to lay out in the sun and welcome the warmth. you started to visit tucked away cafes and drink delicious beverages. you started to welcome the love without argument, and his embrace became divine comfort, soft serenity, warm weather
wonwoo: your ceiling is beautiful. you’ve watched it for hours like a science project or a call to worship. sun rays display themselves so beautifully across it, covering crevices, blanketing stark white in something ethereal. you called in sick to work and haven’t looked at your phone since. you’ll stay just like this until nightfall and an embrace turns you away from the canvas high. he pulls you into him, whispers your name against your skin. you wonder if he says it as a reminder
seokmin: he’s beautiful. his constellated moles create your favorite sky—stars close enough to touch, and you’ve always wanted to touch stars. you drew fishing poles for three years as a kid, imagining a bucket filled with stars knocking your leg on the journey home. it sat beside number one on your christmas list, hoping santa clause would make a dream come true. he let it simmer, kept you waiting for a decade, kept you waiting long enough for the desire to slip, kept you waiting for so long that the real thing surpassed the imaginary
mingyu: he baked cookies for your birthday because you don’t like cake, and there’s something about the texture of frosting you can’t quite get behind—can’t trust the silky smooth. he brought home the milk that comes in a glass bottle. it’s delicious and thick and warms your heart with sweet nostalgia. you open his gifts first because he asked you to, and you find a beautiful goblet that’s the color of summer peaches. he fills it to the rim with glass-bottle milk. he fills his goblet too and presses a candle into the stack of cookies. the wish arrives as soon as you close your eyes
chan: he stands behind you in the kitchen, rests his chin on your shoulder while the sun rises. you’re early risers too. never were before. then this love unraveled in your living room, and you crave more of the day
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bump1nthen1ght · 7 months
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A Very Monstrous Kinktober: Day 6 (Dub-Con)
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Kink: Dubious Consent
Pairing: Merman x Fem!Reader
Other Kinks: Yandere, Creampie
Warnings: Mind Control (Siren's Song), Kidnapping, Aforementioned Dubious Consent
Word Count: 1011 Words
Kinktober Masterlist
Drake has been to many beautiful places in his life. He’s been amongst a pod of whales, new mothers and calves heading back to their home. He’s been up close with vast coral reefs, in between ancient sea turtles and giant pods of fish. He’s even swam through the crashing waves of a hurricane, enjoying the foam and turning water around him.
But right now, there's no place Drake would rather be than in between your legs.
Your thighs feel so plush against his lips, the skin almost like tissue paper against his sharp teeth. The urge to bite down is strong, to hear your gasps and taste the sweet blood that pulses underneath. But he doesn’t want your first time together to be a painful one, as much as he’d love to mark and claim all over your body. No, instead he just dives in and sucks at your cunt, delicious flavors exploding on his tongue. Just the scent makes his dick bulge against his sheath, aching from the lack of touch.
You moan so pretty when his tongue shoves deep inside you, prodding at your walls, his nose nuzzled into your clit. He pets at your hip, forcing himself to pull away from your pussy.
“How does that feel, love?”
“Feels…good.” You slur, voice heavy and delirious.
Drake looks up, wishing he could see your eyes at their normal color. Under the calming trance of his song, they’ve clouded over and lost all their shine. It’s a shame, but you had been putting up such a fight, resisting your body’s calling too much. Drake is sure with time you’ll accept his love, his partnership, and he can see those beautiful eyes while making love.
For now though, it's better you stay half-aware and submissive. Your pussy will stretch much easier, taking his larger merman-cock with more pleasure than pain. Its a mercy, really.
Speaking of, as delicious as your cunt is, Drake is impatient to be inside you. Grabbing onto the rock below, he pulls his heavy body and tail out of the water. His face now lines up with yours, allowing him to give gentle kisses to your cheek and neck. The song you're under doesn’t give you enough coordination to kiss back, but you still nuzzle into the affection anyway. So cute.
“I’m going to fuck you now, my darling. Is that okay?”
You nod, shoving your face into the crook of his heck, relishing in his soft skin.
“Yes…I want your cock.” Your voice is still slow, partially convinced of what you need. It's so adorable, Drake coos. It's a wonder he didn’t snatch you up sooner.
Drake arms tremble with excitement as he lines his cockhead up with your slit, your wet pussy feeling so good against it. Finally, finally he’s going to mate you, claim you, breed you. After longing and lusting for so long, Drake feels like he’s in Nirvana.
His moan echoes as he finally enters you, taking time to slowly fill you all the way to his base. His nails dig into the rock below, leaving white claw marks in their wake. When your walls clench around him, embracing the intrusion, his hips spasm and he fears he may come undone too soon. But Drake bites his lip, sucking in the blood he draws, and fights it. He’s waited so long. He must savor this.
Drakes uses one arm to throw your leg around his hip, using the leverage to begun thrusting his cock at a steady rhythm. He lets himself be wanton and loud with his moans, all alone in this secluded cave off the shore. Even your tiny whines and panting bounces off this wall, music to his ears.
“Goddesses, you feel divine.”
Drake keens, snapping his hips against yours. He can feel his tip hit the deepest spot inside you, chasing the way you tighten around him when he does. The slick sound of his scales against your ass reminds him of your tasty pussy juices, how he’ll get to drink them up every morning and every night now that he has you. His cock twitches inside you, dripping with his own pre cum. Maybe he’ll suck on your pussy after he climaxes, tasting the mix of your juices together, tasting the affirmation of your love. That makes his cock twitch even more.
Drake meets you in a passionate kiss, devouring all your little noises. His tongue forces its way inside, unbothered by your minimal effort in kissing him back.
Your nails dig into his back, leaving minimal damage. Drake relishes in the feeling.
“I’m close.” You whimper, eyes clenched shut.
“Yes, yes, cum on my cock.” Drake pants, eyes wild with passion. “I want to feel your love, I want to taste you.”
You whine as Drake pulls his shaft out to the tip, leaving you empty and on the edge for a tantalizing 3 seconds. He’s soaking in this view, your chest flushed with a blush, sweat beading down your neck. He wishes this could last forever
“Absolutely perfect.”
Before you can whine and beg for it, Drake shoves his cock deep inside you, finally chasing that high. Your legs wrap around the base of his tail and shake as your orgasm washes over you, milking his cock. His climax comes soon after, making sure to fill up your womb with his seed as he spends himself.
Even soft, the heat of your cunt feels perfect around him. But Drake knows he may crush you if he lays his whole body on top of yours, so he slips out and lays by your side. Cum drips out of your cunt, which Drake makes sure to finger back inside. Your eyes, still hazy, close shut as you rest against his side. Your breathing becomes steady, falling into a gentle sleep as your exhausted body comes off the high of his siren song. Drake strokes a hand alongside your cheek, so blessed to know that your visage will greet him every night from now on.
Yes, Absolutely Perfect
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aphroditelovesu · 7 months
Text
Kinktober Day Twelve — Exhibitionism
❝ — 🍷 lady l: day twelve of kinktober!! I hope you like it!! Also, art is not mine, credit to the creators, unfortunately, I couldn't find them. Sorry for any mistakes ❤️
❝🍷pairing: yandere!dionysus x female!reader.
❝warnings: smut, NSFW, vaginal sex, exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving).
❝🍷word count: 1,130.
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In ancient times, in the leafy hills of Greece, a fervent worship followed Dionysus, the god of wine, the party and ecstasy. Each spring, when the first sunbeams began to heat the earth, his followers gathered in ecstasy to celebrate his God in a spectacle known as Bacchanal.
The place chosen for this celebration was a clear in the heart of the forest, where centenary trees rose majestically around a rustic altar. Dressed with purple tunics and vine garlands tangled in his hair, followers of Dionysus danced and intoned songs in honor of the god of wine.
As the wine flowed freely into ceramic glasses, joy and passion took over everyone. Musicians played flutes and drums, and the flames of a large bonfire crackled in the center of the circle, casting a dancing light on the ecstatic faces of the participants.
Dionysus was represented by a young man, often chosen for his beauty and grace. He personified the god, and his followers paid homage to him, offering him grapes and wine. In the midst of the celebration, a reverential silence fell over the place when the young Dionysus ascended the altar and, in a gesture of divine communion, shared the wine with those present.
As the night progressed, the atmosphere became more intense and liberating. Followers danced barefoot, losing themselves in an ecstasy that connected them directly with the divine. It didn't matter their social origin, everyone was equal before Dionysus.
The Bacchanal of Dionysus was a tribute to the joy, vitality and strength of nature. In those moments of celebration, followers disconnected from the concerns of the everyday world, surrendering themselves to the power of the god of wine, in a search for spiritual transcendence through the party. And so, every spring, the Greek hills were filled with the singing, dancing and euphoria of Dionysus' devotees, in a festival that reminded everyone of the importance of celebrating life and the passion it offers.
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You always knew that Dionysus was an armed exhibitionist and never had problems with that. Part because you were one too, but the idea of letting him fuck you in front of his followers was at least strange and a little uncomfortable.
His followers are all drunk, as they were always in the festivities, and they would hardly remember that, but you were still not sure.
Dionysus, however, already knew what he wanted and he always got what he wanted.
You on your knees and sucking him until you beg for him to fuck you in front of his followers. And he intended to accomplish this fantasy.
Dionysus stroked your face and removed a lock of hair from your eye and admired their color for a moment.
"On your knees." He said in an authoritarian way and you, not knowing how to react, obeyed him and fell on your knees to your God. You stuck your hand under his chiton and you stroked him as you felt his cock hard.
You approached more and pulled the chiton's fabric to the side, giving the complete sight of his cock for you. You could feel your salivary mouth and, without caring about the others, you licked the tip timidly. Your tongue moistened to the glans of his cock and Dionysus gasped.
You took his cock with your hand and suck him, swallowing the maximum of the length of the god you could handle. What was not fit in your mouth, you took with your hand and made light movements from top to bottom.
"F-Fuck!" Dionysus moaned and stroked your hair. The vision of you on your knees for him and sucking his cock was very delicious. He looked to the side and saw his followers observe you with interest. He smiled at them and drank a sip of his glass of wine.
You removed it from your mouth with an obscene sound and smiled to the god, your lips wet. You squeezed his cock and licked all the length, your tongue lingering on the glans. Dionysus moaned loudly and pulled you through the hair, forcing you to stop sucking it.
"Take off your clothes." He ordered and you, hesitantly, obeyed and slid your chiton through your body, giving the vision of your nakedness to all presents. Contrary to what you imagined, it filled you with desire and your core throbbed.
Dionysus removed his own chiton and stood naked too, he sat in the chair and slapped it lightly on his thigh. You understood what you should do and slowly, you took his shoulders, balancing, and after adjusting a little, your pussy was dangerously close to his dick.
"Ride me, sweetie." He whispered and you went down slowly, your cunt swallowing Dionysus's cock as you thrust his cock on you. You took a deep breath and moaned, feeling full. Dionysus grabbed your hip and gave a little push up, causing you to squirm with pleasure.
You moaned and squeezed the broad shoulders of the god and without caring about the crowd that watched you intently, you ride him. Your breasts moved as you moved your body and Dionysus kissed your neck, still squeezing your hip.
You whined when the god sucked the skin with a little force, definitely leaving a mark. You squeezed his shoulders and ride his cock frantically. Your cunt sucking his cock, your body receiving waves of pleasure with every move.
Dionysus looked around and smirked at his followers, who faced you with lust. Some drank his wine, others ate grapes and others kissed and touched.But they all had one thing in common, they never took the gaze from you.
"Your pussy is so good, princess!" Dionysus moaned and squeezed your waist, his head tucked between your breasts and licking your nipple from your left breast. You whimpered and felt your climax approach.
Dionysus threw his head back and moaned your name as he came inside you, his cum filling your tight pussy. You moaned and moving quickly on his cock, you came, your pussy clenching around him, cumming on his cock.
You clutched to the god, your body shaking a little. You did not dare look at others, not wanting to know what they were doing.
Dionysus lazily began to move inside you, his hip pushing up slowly. You looked up and looked at him in his eyes. He smirked.
"Our joke is just starting, princess." He drank a sip of his wine and kept moving his hip slowly. You moaned and grabbed him harder.
His followers never ceasing to look at his body.
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daisies-daydreams · 11 months
Note
HELLO FRIEND!!! I kindly ask for a part 3 of I Wanna Be Yours where König gets what he wants (eating us out infront of tied up Ghost) but Ghost breakers out and then it just turns into a battle of who makes the reader cum more 👹👹
I Wanna Be Yours (Pt. 3) - Tainted Love
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Pairing: Ghost x F!Reader x König Category: Pure Smut (18+) Warnings: Consensual Voyeurism, Violence (König and Ghost Fighting 🫢), Cuckolding, Possessive!Ghost, Possessive!König, Unprotected Sex (You Know the Drill), Cock Riding, Missionary, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex (F!Receiving), Clit Play, Cock Rings, Orgasm Delay, Size Kink/Difference, Stomach Bulge Word Count: 3.3k+
Author's Note: Thank you for your request! Holy hell, this was so much fun to write. I was originally going to write Ghost as remaining in the chair for the whole time before I saw your request. The cum challenge idea was brilliant. 🥵 I hope you enjoy!
Pt. 1 & Pt. 2
MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI
König slammed the door to his quarters shut, his hands shaking as he felt his cock harden beneath his sweatpants. He just excused himself from a sparring session with you. You seemed puzzled by his earlier, unexplained departure, but he had a good reason. No matter how hard he tried, König just couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. The way your workout clothes hugged your curves, how your breasts would hang above his face while you pinned him down. König gasped as he palmed at his aching cock.
“Ah, schatz,” the soldier moaned as he slid his hand beneath his pants. His cock was hot to the touch, nearly burning his palm. He sucked in a sharp breath as he squeezed his veiny shaft. König saw you in his mind, the same fantasy from two months ago replaying in full color. He groaned as he pumped his length, imagining his large hands spreading your thighs as he lashed at your entrance with his wet tongue. The saccharine flavor of your slick would coat his taste buds so delectably-a divine drink he'd always thirst for.
“Mmm, you taste so good, liebling,” König mewled under his breath as he smeared precum across his bulbous tip. You’d moan at his praise as he peppered your cunt with slow, juicy kisses. König smirked as he thought about Ghost being forced to watch him steal your pleasure. His hand fell onto the cold door frame as his fist glided over his member. “What do you think, Ghost ? What do you think of me tasting your sweet’s delicious cunt?” he sneered. Ghost would strain against the rope that held him in place, his dark eyes locked on how your face twisted into an expression of pure arousal.
König shuddered as he sped up his movements, the muscles in his lower stomach winding tighter with each desperate stroke. You’d curl your fingers in his hair as he thrusted his tongue into your hole, your walls sucking him in greedily. His eyes closed as his hips bucked into his tight grip. König could practically feel your pussy begin to flutter around his wet muscle.
“Come on, Kätzchen. Show the lieutenant how much you love my tongue in your pussy,” he groaned. His orgasm ripped through him, tearing him straight down the middle. König growled your name as he came undone in his hand. His cock twitched as warm, thick cum shot up his stomach and over his wrist. His mind was captured in a whirlwind of violent bliss as he pictured you squirting in his mouth. He panted as he pumped himself a few more times. König blinked his eyes open, a sense of relief filling his chest. And yet, that longing that gnawed at him for so many nights still continued to eat him alive.
He frowned when he thought of how he heard Ghost fucking you in the safehouse.
"It happened two months ago-you should be over it by now," König tried to rationalize. He tried and tried and tried, and yet for so many times your name fell from his lips as he brought himself to orgasm late into the night. König sighed as he turned to grab a rag from his shelf. He suddenly froze. Despite the same build, the room was decorated differently. His face grew pale as he fumbled to shove his softening cock back into his pants. His heart shattered when he saw a photo of you hugging Ghost pinned to a corkboard above the desk.
"Fuck," König screamed internally. A knock at the door caused him to flinch.
“König? Are you in there?” the voice called from the other side of the door.
It was Ghost.
Fuck.
König swallowed thickly as he shifted in place. His mind raced while his heart thumped wildly against his sternum. He heard shuffling from behind the door, the dark shadow of Ghost's boots creeping into the room.
“Why don’t you step out here so we can have a little talk, yeah?” Ghost piqued. He could hear the strain in the lieutenant’s voice-the strain of someone holding back every inch of rage they wished to unleash. König slowly stepped forward, his skin feeling cold as he slowly turned the doorknob. Ghost instantly burst inside, throwing his fist in König’s stomach. The giant man gasped as he crumbled to the ground, only to be met with Ghost’s foot stepping on his fingers. He hissed when he felt the rough fabric of the lieutenant’s gloves grip his mask and hair, pulling his head up to meet his furious gaze.
“Think this is funny, do you?” Ghost seethed as he narrowed his eyes at the man. “Comin’ into my quarters, tossin’ off 'to my girl? God, you’re fucking twisted,” he snarled. Ghost gripped his mask and hair a little tighter, his dark pools lit with a burning rage. König shook his head as much as he could. Ghost scoffed and dropped his head, though made the mistake of turning.
König was quick to jump to his feet, rushing the Brit and putting him in a headlock. Ghost’s eyes widened as the Austrian constricted his massive arm around his throat, his body pressing down on his back. Ghost huffed as he tried to drop himself to the floor, yet König balanced himself easily. The Austrian narrowed his eyes, his heart pounding in his ears as he watched the lieutenant struggle to pry himself free.
König squeezed even harder, hoping the man’s face was turning red beneath his macabre mask. Ghost grunted before dropping his weight and rolling the giant off of his back. He scowled as his body fell to the floor with a loud “thud”. König rubbed his throbbing head, the pain only swelling as the seconds ticked by.
Ghost wheezed and gasped for air as he clumsily stood to his feet. The lieutenant grunted in annoyance, readying to strike. Suddenly, a faint knock whispered through the room. The men turned towards the door.
“Si? Are you in there?” you called. The two men exchanged glances. Ghost cleared his throat.
"Yeah. I'm here, sweetheart," he replied, his voice still hoarse from his constricted throat. You hummed.
"Are you okay? You sound pretty raspy," you said. König watched Ghost scratch the back of his head.
"I'm alright. Just...allergies," his voice lingered on the last word after the awkward pause. König could imagine you shrugging from the other side as you laughed.
"Okay. I need to come in to get my clothes. I accidentally left them in here last night," you purred out the last sentence. König tensed at your words, his hands curling into fists at his sides. Ghost blinked.
"Right. Well...I can just hand them to you," he said. There was a long pause.
"Simon...is someone else in there with you?" you asked, your voice laced with a hint of hurt. Ghost's eyes widened.
"'Course not. Just not feelin' well," Ghost explained, his words slightly rushed. The air seemed heavy and thick as they waited for your response.
“I’m coming in,” you finally said. Both of them didn’t have time to brace themselves as the door swung open. You raised your brows, not a word leaving your lips for a few moments. You shifted your gaze back and forth between König and Ghost, your mouth curving into a small smirk.
“Am I interrupting something?” you mused while crossing your arms. König felt his cheeks burn beneath his mask, his eyes growing wide. Ghost’s hand splayed on the giant’s taut back as he guided him towards the door.
“Sorry, love. He was just leaving,” Ghost said sternly. König felt the urge to tighten all of his muscles, to just stay planted to the floor. Ghost stopped when you placed your hand on his forearm. “Lovie?” the lieutenant asked. König watched you bite your bottom lip as you gazed down at your feet.
“He can…stay if he wants,” you muttered, your voice growing quieter with each word. Ghost blinked as his hand fell from König’s back.
“What are you sayin’, sweetheart?” your boyfriend rumbled. You shifted where you stood as you wrung your hands.
“You’ll think I’m crazy,” you laughed nervously. König cocked his head to the side. Ghost slipped his hand beneath your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.
“You know you can tell me anything,” he whispered loudly enough for König to hear. You looked at the open door, sighing as you walked over and closed it. A few seconds passed before you turned around, your face beet red.
“I-I want both of you,” you confessed. König nearly choked on his spit while Ghost froze where he stood.
“Say that again?” the lieutenant asked. You took a deep breath.
“I want both of you,” you repeated more firmly this time. Ghost stepped closer to you. König could feel his head swimming in a thousand questions, his chest growing tight. You cautiously looked up, your eyes misty. “I haven’t been able to keep it out of my head since the safe house back in Norway,” you choked. Ghost wrapped his bulky arms around you, pulling you into an embrace. König looked behind you two, awkwardly shifting his feet.
“Love…you know I can’t let you go,” his voice cracked ever so slightly. You shook your head as you pulled back.
“It’s not like that, Si. You’ll still have me-but so will König,” you beamed as you tilted your head to match the aforementioned man’s line of sight. His heart warmed at your lovely, bright eyes. You shifted your focus back to your boyfriend, setting your hands on his rough shoulders.
“What’s the harm in giving it a shot?” you grinned.
***
König smirked as he circled around Ghost like a shark studying it's prey. He held his breath as he pulled the blindfold off of the lieutenant. Ghost blinked a few times before tilting his head up, his bare cock twitching at the sight of you spread open on the sheets of his bed. König bit the inside of his cheek as he scanned the man up and down. Ghost was well endowed, though his girth certainly outmatched his length. The cock ring snugly placed at his red tip caught the dim lighting of the room.
Convincing him wasn’t easy, but you were able to get Ghost to try sharing you at least once. All of you discussed it many times, and König felt his heart melt when you accepted trying out his fantasy (though Ghost wasn't as thrilled). Per your request, neither of them wore their masks. The thought made his stomach churn at first, though a few pecks on the check seemed to calm his mind. The sound of Ghost muttering a few curses snapped him back to the present.
“Oh, Kätzchen-it’s a shame the lieutenant had to interrupt our special moment,” he drawled as he tilted his head down. Ghost silently watched as he clicked his tongue in disapproval. The bound man looked as if he were ready to lunge forward and sink his teeth into König's muscular arm. König huffed out a pretentious laugh before striding towards the bed. He lowered himself to his knees, his face diving close to your wet cunt. You shuddered as his hot breath fanned over your dripping slit.
"I think he needs to learn a lesson-don't you?" König mused as he spread your lower lips apart with his thumbs. He heard the chair scrape behind him as you gave a small moan.
“Y-Yes,” you keened. König chuckled as he patted your inner thighs.
“Such a good girl,” he grinned as he leaned closer to your pussy. König smacked his lips before letting a large wad spit fall over your labia. He was mesmerized by how it mixed with your slick, cascading down towards the sheets. You bucked your hips forward, causing him to latch his hands onto your thighs.
“Ah, ah-patience, Schatz,” he clicked. As much as he wanted to gorge himself on your sweet cunt, he wanted to make sure to draw it out. You whimpered as König kneaded the flesh of your thighs as he kissed and nipped above your mound.
“König, please,” you cried as you raised your hips.
“Tell me what you need, (Y/N),” he ordered with a light slap on your thigh. Your lip quivered as you gripped the crisp sheets in your fists.
“Kö…I need-I need you to eat this pussy like you own it,” you groaned with furrowed brows. König groaned at your filthy words. He breathed through his nostrils as he spread your folds apart with his thumbs.
“Oh, meine Kätzchen,” he cooed. Your head snapped forward as he latched his mouth over your entire cunt, sucking on it tenderly. König relished in the way your fingers dug into his dirty blonde hair as your moans spilled past your lips. His tongue licked bold stripes up and down your pussy before he pulled back.
“You should know by now…I already do”.
König dove back down, this time puckering his lips around your bundle of nerves. You gasped and shook beneath him. König smiled into your folds as he heard Ghost rumble lowly, the chair creaking and groaning beneath his ministrations. He rotated between sucking your clit to swirling his tongue around it, encasing it in the wet warmth of his muscle. You bucked your hips forward as you threw your head back.
“Please don't stop,” you whined. He felt your legs give out when he plunged his tongue into your wet heat. The squelching your pussy made as he devoured it was heavenly, giving him an insatiable high as his cock hardened beneath his boxers. König’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he felt your walls suck him in. His jagged nose bumped into your clit as he messily swallowed your juices.
“Are you going to cum, Kätzchen?” he mused, your slick dribbling down his chin. You swallowed and nodded, face flush with a beautiful shade of pink. He chuckled as he nibbled your folds. “And who’s making you cum, hm?” König asked as he massaged your nub with his thumb. You sucked in a sharp breath as he started to thrust his tongue back inside.
"Y-You are," you gasped out. He instantly pulled his tongue out, leaving you to pant and mewl.
"I'll ask you again-who is making you cum?" he asked sharply. You threatened to squish his head between your thighs as he pushed his tongue back into your slick heat at an agonizingly slow pace.
“K-König!" you wailed, your head thrashing as you clenched around his muscle. He closed his eyes as he raised your hips with his hands. Your moans and pants became deeper and heavier as he moved his head side to side, his tongue swirling and plunging inside your cunt. His heart pounded as your walls begin to flutter. This was it-you were finally going to cum in his mouth, give him the divine drink. Just as your pussy constricted around his tongue, two hands roughly grabbed his shoulders.
He scowled as Ghost pushed him aside, his large body nearly falling to the floor. Your confused expression quickly turned into bliss when the Brit sheathed his swollen, hard cock inside of you with one powerful thrust. You moaned and curled your fingers into his shoulders as he began to pump his cock into you.
“If you’re gonna cum, then it'll be on my cock,” Ghost growled, shooting König a dirty glare. The Austrian’s eyes fell on the ripped bindings laying on the floor. How? He made sure they were secured tight enough. A sharp moan caught his attention as he watched Ghost grip your hips, driving his dick into your messily eaten cunt.
“You like how I fill you up, love?” Ghost grunted with a harsh thrust. You howled as hot tears spilled from your eyes.
“Yes! Yes-fuck, you fill me up to good Si,” you sobbed. König could only feel himself getting harder as he watched Ghost spread your tight hole open with his thick cock, your slick splashing across his V-lines as he pushed in and out of you. Ghost moaned as he locked lips with you, his weight pressing you up against the wall and spreading your legs even further apart.
“Feel even better than König’s tongue?” Ghost asked. Your eyes snapped open. Ghost tilted his head as his hand came down to play with your clit. “Does it?” he asked before stealing another quick, sloppy kiss. König held his breath. You whined as your hips snapped forward, mouth agape in a perfect “O”. König watched helplessly as you came around Ghost’s length, your walls probably hugging him in ways he could only imagine...for now. Ghost huffed out as he slowed his movements, watching you unravel in a puddle of pure bliss.
“That’s it-that’s my good little Sergeant,” he murmured softly while patting your hips. Your cute, soft whimpers lit something in König’s heart. He felt disgusted as Ghost slipped out of your tight walls, his cock soaked with your arousal. His dick almost seemed purple, his hard length ready to explode in ecstasy.
König panted as Ghost stroked your cheek with his hand, your eyes fluttering closed as you nuzzled your face into his palm. He stood up and peeled his underwear off before wrapping his arms beneath your pits. Ghost’s shoulders tensed as you squeaked while König pulled you into his lap. Your plush ass felt so soft against his sturdy thighs as he adjusted you.
“Are you willing to go again, meine süßes Mädchen?" he purred. Your eyes looked like they were going to pop out of your skull when you gazed at his hard cock. König knew he was much larger than the average man-though it caused more problems than anything. But the way he watched you take Ghost’s cock only gave him the confidence that he’d fit at least half-way. Your eyes locked with his as you snaked your arms around his neck and nodded, pressing your forehead against his. You yelped when he turned your around so your front was facing Ghost. He smiled, kissing up and down your jawline as he eyed the man across from him.
“C-Can we go slow?” you asked, your doe-eyes glancing down at his monstrous length. He smiled and kissed your temple.
“Of course. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt…unless, you’re into that,” he grunted while squeezing your thighs. Your eyes widened as you rubbed your pussy across his shaft. He sucked in a sharp breath and grabbed your hips, his head beginning to spin as you coated his cock with your arousal. You eventually slowed and adjusted yourself above the leaking tip of his dick, giving his shaft a few generous pumps. Both of you moaned as you sank down, your walls being molding to the shape of his massive, veiny cock. You whimpered, the tightness constricting his shaft. He cupped your cheek and turned your head, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss.
“It’s alright, Schatz. I know it’s hard. Just take your time like we said,” his lips danced over yours. You panted before taking a few deep breaths. He felt you relax your pelvic muscles before you continued to slide down. You breathing stuttered when both of you realized you couldn’t fit anymore of his length in your tight pussy. You gaped at the bulge growing in your tummy. He purred as he rubbed circles at your waist.
“It’s okay if you can’t fit all of me. I’m just glad to finally be inside your perfect pussy,” he bit the shell of your ear before lathering it with his tongue. You whined and began to rock your hips shallowly. König continued nipping and licking down your neck as you began to bounce on his cock. The feeling of you wrapped around him sent him reeling into a pit of ecstasy.
“Look at you-riding me so well,” he praised as his hands squeezed your waist. Your head fell back on his broad shoulder as his cock dragged through your plush walls.
“I swear if you cum inside her-I will fucking kill you,” Ghost glowered. König accepted the challenge with a grin and began to buck his hips up into you. Your hands fell onto his as both of you went at a steady, desperate pace. The room was filled with soft 'plaps' as you hypnotically rose and fell on his cock.
“What do you think, Kätzchen? Do you want me to fill you up with my cum?” König lilted. You moaned at his words, walls constricting around him tightly. His face fell into your shoulder as he felt himself nearing his release. A sudden whimper broke out, but it wasn’t from you. König smirked as he watched Ghost furiously fisting his cock, the ring still secure on his tip.
“I think he’s going to cum, liebling,” König mocked, his tone laced with venom. You slowed your movements, observing your boyfriend’s desperate expression. König leaned down to your ear.
“Think we should have some mercy on him?” he asked, his fingers coming down to caress where his cock was plugging into your cunt.
You whipped your head around, your face completely red as you struggled to get your words out.
“Do you mean...” you swallowed, eyeing Ghost's girth. König laughed, his voice raspy and booming.
“Nein, I’m just kidding,” he sighed. “Besides-you’re miene right now,” he stated as he suddenly bucked his hips up. You moaned.
"Yes-fuck, I'm yours," you breathed. König swallowed thickly as he watched Ghost crawl closer though half-lidded eyes, his hands making quick work to remove the ring. He tossed it aside before pumping his cock in time with König’s hungry thrusts.
“H-Holy shit, Kö,” you mewled as your walls began to clench around his length. König sighed against your neck as he rubbed circles around your swollen clit.
“You feel that, Schatz? Feel me inside you?” he murmured as he stroked the bulge popping out of your stomach. You nodded, tears spilling down your red cheeks. He sank his teeth down on your shoulder, eliciting the most delectable squeal from you. The sweet sound of your cries caused Ghost to release a feral growl as his eyes fell back.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hissed as his cum shot over your stuffed pussy up to your breasts. You gasped as his cum hit you, painting your front with white streaks. He shook like a leaf as he fell forward on the bed, his cock still throbbing in his hand while he caught his breath. König felt you clench around him as he licked the red bitemark.
“Go ahead, Kätzchen-show Ghost how good I’m making you feel,” the Austrian bellowed. With a few more strokes of his hips he felt you come undone around him. Your head fell back as you moaned, your walls sucking him in greedily. He felt like he had died and went to heaven as he felt you squeeze him closer to your cervix, his cock painfully trapped inside of your cunt.
König kissed your temple as your walls contracted around him, each growing weaker with the last. He gasped as he felt you squirt, your liquid oozing out of you as your body shivered in his hold. König couldn't stop the smile that etched itself onto his face. Surely he made you cum much harder than Ghost did.
Suddenly, his body reminded him that he was approaching his own high, balancing on the precipice.
“Scheiße, I’m close-where do you want me?” he grunted as he bounce you on his hard length. You gasped and closed your eyes, your cunt no doubt flooded with overstimulation.
“Inside-please fill me up!” you whined. König looked over at Ghost. The man’s brows were furrowed as one of the veins in his temple looked like it was about to pop. He smirked before pistoning his cock up into your gushing cunt. With one final, sloppy thrust, his orgasm violently crashed over him. A searing wave engorged him as he felt his cock relentlessly twitch inside of you, coating your walls with his thick cum. You gasped as he filled you to the brim with his seed, absolutely soaking your cervix. König blinked his eyes open as his high began to fade, smiling that your head was still leaning against his chest.
"Was...that...good?" he panted between heavy breaths. You nodded, face relaxed as you basked in the afterglow. You squealed when he sank his lips into yours, his tongue invading your mouth. Both of you shared a heated kiss before he leaned forward, his cock still submerged inside of your heat. He hushed you as he slowly pulled out. König sighed as he patted your waist, eyes transfixed on his cum leaking out of your puckering hole. The sound of Ghost rustling in the sheets drew his attention. He helped you to sit up as he inspected you.
“You feelin' okay, sweetheart? Was he too rough with you?” he asked, stroking your cheek with his hand.
"I-I'm fine," you slurred with a blissful smile. You looked completely cock-drunk: your face beaming with a thin sheen of sweat as you panted with half-lidded eyes. Ghost breathed in through his nose as he pecked your lips.
"Good...though he still came inside you," he said while shooting König a dark scowl. The Austrian only cracked a wide smirk. Ghost could try to kill him, but that's all he could do-try. You sighed as your boyfriend adjusted you to spread your legs. König felt a spark light in him again, though it instantly calmed when he watched Ghost dab your folds with a small, wet rag.
"I'll help change the sheets," König stated as he slid off the bed. Both men eyed each other throughout the process of placing a new sheet on the bed (which was much harder than it looked). They helped you climb beneath the covers. König couldn't help but see you as a sleeping beauty: your hair fanning around your face as your naked chest rose and fell steadily. Just as he turned to grab his clothes, he felt a small hand caress his.
"Kätzchen?" he blinked. You gazed up at him with sparkling eyes as you shuffled forward. He blushed as you patted the empty spot beside you on the bed. König heard Ghost click his jaw.
"Please...could you stay for the night?" you pleaded softly with a pout. How could he say no to such a precious face? König nodded slowly as he crawled behind you, his back prone to the wall. Ghost puffed out a breath of hot air as he slid in front of you. It took some adjusting, but eventually all of you found a way to fit on the mattress. The room was soothingly quiet, the smell of sex still lingering in the air.
"Goodnight, my boys," you cooed. König's heart skipped a beat. Ghost gave him one final stare before closing his eyes.
"Goodnight, (Y/N)," the lieutenant murmured before pressing a kiss to your forehead. König grinned as he placed a chaste kiss to the top of your head, his hand smoothing over your hair.
"Gute Nacht, Kätzchen".
____
Thank you for reading! ❤️
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apoemaday · 4 months
Text
A Brave and Startling Truth
by Maya Angelou
We, this people, on a small and lonely planet Traveling through casual space Past aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns To a destination where all signs tell us It is possible and imperative that we learn A brave and startling truth And when we come to it To the day of peacemaking When we release our fingers From fists of hostility And allow the pure air to cool our palms When we come to it When the curtain falls on the minstrel show of hate And faces sooted with scorn are scrubbed clean When battlefields and coliseum No longer rake our unique and particular sons and daughters Up with the bruised and bloody grass To lie in identical plots in foreign soil When the rapacious storming of the churches The screaming racket in the temples have ceased When the pennants are waving gaily When the banners of the world tremble Stoutly in the good, clean breeze When we come to it When we let the rifles fall from our shoulders And children dress their dolls in flags of truce When land mines of death have been removed And the aged can walk into evenings of peace When religious ritual is not perfumed By the incense of burning flesh And childhood dreams are not kicked awake By nightmares of abuse When we come to it Then we will confess that not the Pyramids With their stones set in mysterious perfection Nor the Gardens of Babylon Hanging as eternal beauty In our collective memory Not the Grand Canyon Kindled into delicious color By Western sunsets Nor the Danube, flowing its blue soul into Europe Not the sacred peak of Mount Fuji Stretching to the Rising Sun Neither Father Amazon nor Mother Mississippi who, without favor, Nurture all creatures in the depths and on the shores These are not the only wonders of the world When we come to it We, this people, on this minuscule and kithless globe Who reach daily for the bomb, the blade and the dagger Yet who petition in the dark for tokens of peace We, this people on this mote of matter In whose mouths abide cankerous words Which challenge our very existence Yet out of those same mouths Come songs of such exquisite sweetness That the heart falters in its labor And the body is quieted into awe We, this people, on this small and drifting planet Whose hands can strike with such abandon That in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living Yet those same hands can touch with such healing, irresistible tenderness That the haughty neck is happy to bow And the proud back is glad to bend Out of such chaos, of such contradiction We learn that we are neither devils nor divines When we come to it We, this people, on this wayward, floating body Created on this earth, of this earth Have the power to fashion for this earth A climate where every man and every woman Can live freely without sanctimonious piety Without crippling fear When we come to it We must confess that we are the possible We are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world That is when, and only when We come to it.
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