#Dans le lit (In the Bed)

[gabilunaar]

This too is farcille coded

Dans le lit (In the Bed), by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec

[diari0deglierrori]

So my little review after trying melatonin for the first time today: I haven’t felt that well rested after waking up in like, forever

[vivwritesfics]

Charles jealous and possessive please 🔥 SMUT

Green Eyed Monster

Smut Warning! This work is intended for 18+ audiences only!

There was something about the rich, fancy Monaco lifestyle. Something Y/N L/N couldn't quite explain.

When her boyfriend wasn't racing on the other side of the world, when he was home in Monaco he took her out to extravagant and elegant restaurants. The kinds of places where Y/N was dressed to the nines, where all eyes were on her and she was on Charles' arm.

On this particular evening, Y/N wore a black dress with a skirt that went down to her ankles. There was a slit up the side, showing off a bit of her leg. The rest of the dress was pretty simple, tight to her body with thin straps over her shoulders. On her feet she had black feels with little straps criss crossing up her legs. Her nails were black, matching the dress.

Charles stood in his suit, watching as Y/N put on her heels. He couldn't help but stare as she finished getting ready. "Oh mon Dieu, ma chérie. Tu es superbe," (oh my god, my darling. You look fantastic) he whispered as he leaned against the mirror.

Y/N tucked her hair behind her ear. "Thank you, Lord Percival," she said, standing from the bed.

Striding over, she wrapped her arms around her neck and kissed him. It was quick and careful, so that Y/N didn't ruin her makeup. "How about we don't go to dinner," he suggested. "How about we stay here and I ravage you?"

She shook her head. "Please, Charles. We haven't been to dinner in so long," she said with a slight whine.

So, they went to dinner. With Charles driving, they looked every bit the rich Monégasque people everybody through they were. Some people took pictures of them as they drove past, on their way to the restaurant.

At the restaurant, they took their seats and ordered their drinks. "I'll be back in a moment," said Y/N when the waiter walked away. She stood from her seat, kissed Charles on the cheek (leaving a lovely red mark), and made her way to the bathroom.

Charles looked around the restaurant. Some people had their phone out, pointing them at him. Charles simply smiled as he waited for her to get back.

Y/N finished up in the bathroom and made her way outside. There was a small corridor, with the men's bathroom next to the women's, before leading back to the restaurant.

A man walked out of the bathroom beside her as Y/N walked out of the ladies room. He looked her up and down as Y/N fixed the skirt of her dress and leaned against the wall. The guy let out a whistle. "Je te ferai crier mon nom au lit ce soir, ma belle," (I'll have you screaming my name in bed tonight, gorgeous) he said.

Y/N sent a disgusted look his way. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm here with my boyfriend," she spat and walked away. Walking back to her Lord Percival.

"Je m'en fiche, sexy. Je te ferai mendier pour moi dans ces toilettes si tu le veux," (I don't care about that, sexy. I'll have you begging for me in those stalls if you want it) he said, following her towards the restaurant.

Y/N ignored him as she walked back to her table. Just before she reached Charles, the guy reached forward, pinching her ass. Gasping, Y/N turned around, ready to throw a punch. But the man was gone. When he saw where she was heading, he backed off, walking to a table with what Y/N could only assume was his wife.

"What was that, Darling?" Asked Charles as Y/N sat down opposite him. Their drinks were already there and Charles had already had most of his.

Y/N took a sip of her drink. "Oh, nothing my love. Don't worry about it."

Charles narrowed his eyes. He believed her, but her answer wasn't filling him with confidence.

He was silent while they ate their food. Charles was quick to pay for the food and get Y/N back into the car. "I saw you with him, mon amour," he said as the drove away.

"What? Charles-"

"I'm going to make sure you never do anything like that again." His hand was on her thigh, gripping tight, travelling closer to where she needed him most.

"Charles," she whispered, hiking up the skirt of her dress. Charles' fingers danced across her bare thigh, sending a shiver up her spine.

Charles kept a hold of her hand as he walked her back into the apartment. He pushed the door shut behind them and locked it. There would be no interruptions tonight.

"Get in the bedroom and get that dress off," he said, walking to their kitchen.

Y/N ran off to the bedroom, unzipping and throwing off her dress as she went. She left it in a crumpled pile by the wardrobe and worked on taking off her shoes and underwear. Discarding them in the same manner, she laid back on the bed and stared at the door.

Anticipation was making it all the more exciting. She could hear Charles' shoes clicking against the floor as he approached, making her drip.

When he twisted the handle and pushed the door open, Y/N sat up and stared at him. Charles was still dressed, but his shirt was halfway unbuttoned, showing off his chest.

He was so pretty. So, so pretty.

"I don't like it when people try to take what's mine," he said, his voice low. He shrugged off his jacket and beckoned her closer.

On her hands and knees, Y/N crawled across the bed towards him. Charles pushed her hair behind her ear and tilted her chin up to kiss her. "Si jolie, mon amour. Tellement jolie." (So pretty, my love. So fucking pretty)

Still clothed, Charles pushed her back onto the bed. He ran his hands over her body, over all the places that made her shiver. Over her breasts and down to her core.

His touches were light as he touched her folds. "Charles," she cried, throwing her head back. With one hand he touched her and, with the other, he unbuckled her belt. "Nobody touches my girl," he said through a growl, his touches becoming rougher.

Flipping Y/N over, she pulled his cock from his trousers. Charles lined himself up and entered swiftly. He was still fully clothed, standing over Y/N on her hands and knees.

Charles' thrusts started slow. But they quickly got rougher. Charles had a grip on her hair, holding her up, exposing her throat. His hips were moving at a bruising pace, his thrusts hitting all the right places.

"Oh my," she gasped. "Charles!"

The hand gripping her throat moved around to her neck, pulling her back into her chest. If it wasn't for his grip, Y/N would have fallen forward, allowing her body to be pounded into the sheets. Charles bit and kissed at her shoulder, sucking dark bruises into the place where her shoulder met her neck.

Y/N was lost in a haze of sex and pleasure. She cried his name again ans again, repeating it like a prayer.

When Y/N came undone Charles kept going. He didn't let up on the pace, not until his thrusts became sloppy and his hips stilled against her, spilling his seed inside of her.

For a moment, Charles didn't pull out. He just held Y/N there, his cock buried inside of her. His breathing was erratic, his body sweaty.

"C'est ma gentille fille. Tu as fait du bien pour moi," (That's my good girl. You did so good for me) he whispered, kissing her gently.

Slowly, Y/N pulled away from him. She laid herself on the bed and reached out for Charles, trying to pull him closer. As he came closer, he took off his shirt and his pants discarding them. "I love you," she said, pulling him close for a kiss.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Charles replied, pulling her to her wobbly feet.

[fragrantblossoms]

Raymonde April. Dans ses yeux, une lueur étrange (In his eyes, a strange glow), 1979.

Raymonde April. Je m’effondrai en larmes sur le lit (I collapsed into tears on the bed), 1978.

[kvetchlandia]

Wolfgang Schulze Poet Jacques Prévert and Jacqueline Laurent, Paris 1939

Une orange sur la table Ta robe sur le tapis Et toi dans mon lit Doux présent du présent Fraîcheur de la nuit Chaleur de ma vie.

(An orange on the table Your dress on the rug And you in my bed Sweet present of the present Cool of the night Warmth of my life).

-- Jacques Prévert, "Alicante" 1946

[pompadourpink]

Les prépositions

A

À - to (je vais à la plage - I’m going to the beach), at (le chat est à la maison - the cat is at the house), indirect object/complément d’attribution (c’est au chat - it’s the cat's), adverbial phrase of way (une peinture à l’huile - an oil painting), adverbial locution introducer (à l’instant - just now), price indicator (le kilo de pommes est à deux euros), infinitive form introducer (c’est à prendre ou à laisser - take it or leave it), approximation introducer (c’est à dix minutes d’ici - it’s about ten min. away), against (dos à dos), after (pas à pas), until (aimer à la folie)

Après - after (je te rejoins après le travail - I’ll join you after work)

Avant - before (je me suis levée avant toi - I got up before you did)

Avec - with (je vis avec mes deux chats - I live with my two cats)

C

Chez - at X’s > person or brand of a shop (je suis chez mon père - I'm at dad's)

Concernant - regarding, about (concernant ton offre, je la refuse - about your offer, I'm refusing it)

Contre - against (je suis contre ta décision - I stand against your decision, le chat est assis contre le mur - the cat is sitting against the wall)

D

Dans - in (le chat est dans mon sac - the cat is in my bag)

D’après - according to (d’après Victor Hugo, Fantine est blonde)

De - of (au bout de la rue - at the end of the street)

Dedans - inside of it (le chat est dedans - the cat is inside of it)

Dehors - outside (le chat est dehors - the cat is outside)

Depuis - since (j'ai mon chat depuis que j'ai dix ans - I've had my cat since I was 10), from (tout était beau, depuis la décoration jusqu’aux couleurs - everything was lovely, from the decoration to the colours)

Derrière - behind (le chat est derrière toi - the cat is behind you)

Dès - as soon as (je te préviens dès que j’arrive - I’ll let you know as soon as I get there), immediately (si je pouvais, je partirais dès maintenant)

Dessous - under (la clé était dessous le lit - the key was under the bed)

Dessus - on (le chat est assis dessus - the cat is sitting on it),

Devant - in front of (j’attends devant la maison - I’m waiting in front of the house)

Durant - during (il est mort durant la famine - he died during the famine), for (elle a vécu là-bas durant des années - she lived there for years)

E

En - at (je suis nul en Français - I’m bad at French), material indicator (une table en bois - a wooden table), change indicator (il s’est transformé en papillon - it turned into a butterfly), division mood (couper en deux - cut in two pieces), during (en hiver, j’ai toujours un rhume - during the winter season, I always get a cold), gerundive element (elle tomba en criant - she fell, screaming), shape/appearance indicator (un arbre en fleurs - a blossoming tree)

Entre - between/out of (entre tous les garçons, Louis est le plus grand - out of all of the boys, Louis is the tallest)

Envers - towards/to (il est méchant envers elle - he’s mean to her)

Ès - in (licencié-e ès sciences - bachelor of sciences) - rare, uni titles

Excepté(e/s) - except (exceptée Louise, elles sont toutes arrivées)

H

Hormis - except (hormis Pierre, nous avons tous le permis - except from Pierre, we all have a driving license)

Hors - out of (il est hors de lui - he’s beside himself)

J

Jusque/jusqu’à (+ subjunctive) - until (il a miaulé jusqu'à ce que je le nourrisse - he meowed until I fed him)

M

Malgré - despite (il est venu malgré sa grippe - he came despite his flu)

Moyennant - in exchange for (moyennant un changement de ton, tu pourras rester - If you change your tone, you’ll be allowed to stay) - rare

N

Nonobstant - in spite of (”Charles Myriel, nonobstant ce mariage, avait, disait-on, beaucoup fait parler de lui” Les Misérables) - rare/old

O

Ôté - taken of from (6 ôté de 10 égale 4)

Outre - besides (outre mes deux cats, il n'y a personne chez moi - outside of my cats, there's no one at my house)

P

Par - by (la Joconde a été painte par Léonard de Vinci), direction indicator (il est parti par là - he went that way), with (je commence par une entrée - I start with an entree), per (j’en prends trois par jour - I take three per days)

Parmi - amongst (parmi mes chats, c'est le plus petit - he’s my smallest cat)

Passé - after/past (passé 2h, tout est fermé - past 2AM, everything is closed)

Pendant - during (je t’appellerai pendant ma pause - I’ll call you during my break)

Pour - for (je suis là pour toi - I’m here for you), to (je pars pour Paris - I’m heading to Paris), according to (pour moi, c'est une erreur - I think it's a mistake)

Près (de) - near (je suis près de Paris - I’m near Paris)

S

Sans - without (je suis sans voix - I am speechless)

Sauf - except (j’aime tout sauf la pluie - I like everything but rain)

Selon - according to (selon moi, tu as tort - in my opinion, you’re wrong)

Sous - under (le chat est sous la table - the cat is under the table)

Suivant - according to (suivant ce que j’ai entendu, il ne reviendra pas - according to what I’ve heard, he won’t come back)

Sur - on (le chat est sur la table - the cat is on the table), about (c’est un film sur la guerre - it’s a movie about the war), towards (regarde sur ta droite - look on your right), out of (deux fois sur trois il est en retard - two out of three times he's late)

V

Vers - towards (elle avance vers moi - she’s coming towards me), somewhere around (elle habite vers l’église - she lives near the church), about (Elle est rentrée vers minuit - she got home around midnight)

Voici - here is/are (voici mon chat - here’s my cat)

Voilà - there is/are (et voilà les miens - and there are mine), it’s been (voilà deux ans que je ne les avais pas vues - it had been two years since I last saw them)

Vu - given (vu la situation, c’est mieux comme ça - given the circumstances, that’s better that way) - casual

Movie: La Chinoise - Jean-Paul Godard, 1967

Fanmail - masterlist (2016-) - archives - hire me - reviews (2020-) - Drive

[clairifys]

My love for you - Dick Winters x fem!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, happy-ending

warnings: death, war, smoking, allusions to intercourse, and probably language.

word count: 2.6k

In no way do I own the HBO series and in no way do i intend to disrespect any of the actual people who went through this.

A story in which a (h/c) haired woman has to do surgery on Easy Company's captain and they end up falling deeper in love with each other.

September, 1943

The first time Dick saw the (h/c) woman was when he’d had to drop off supplies and necessities for when the surgery nurse was to come along with the Easy Company on their travels as the companies needed more surgeons to come with to Europe. He knew that some of the men had gone to the nursing station more frequently than needed for the nurse, but he’d never met her. 

Dick wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight, but the girl made it hard to keep his belief up. He’d brought the supply boxes to the office, and when he went to open the door, he gasped in surprise when the woman beat him to it

“Oh! Hello there. I wasn’t expecting anyone, I’m sorry if I gave you a fright!” The beautiful woman had said with a toothy smile.

“It’s quite alright, I should’ve knocked before coming in.” He said with a smile of his own.

“I was instructed to give you these and explain the timeline of what’d be going on from here and on.” He’d told her, which was partially a lie. He only needed to drop off the boxes and ensure she was ready for what they’d be doing, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t kill her. 

“Well thank you sir. I was actually about to go see if I’d gotten the new supplies I needed before we left so you saved me a trip!” The woman said while taking the boxes from him.

December, 1944

The second time the two saw each other again was when Captain Winters had been hit in Bastogne after sending Lieutenant Speirs out to relieve Lieutenant Dike from his position. He’d gotten yelled at by his major and he called Speirs to take over. He’d been too far in the open that a Kraut had gotten him right in the chest. After that, he blacked out.

The woman had been cleaning out her small area in the makeshift hospital in the basement of an old cathedral. She had her own area along with a few other surgeons as they needed more room for different surgeries. 

Thankfully she hadn’t gotten too many injured men in the past week but it seemed that today her luck would change.

Renée came running into her room with a few soldiers tailing her - including her recent admirer Eugene. 

“(Y/n)! Un soldat important a reçu une balle dans la poitrine ! Nous devons le stabiliser avant de le déplacer !” (An important soldier was shot in the chest! We need to stabilize him before we move him!) 

“Le lit est dressé ! Posez-le et appelez d'autres médecins !’ (The bed is made! Put him down and call other doctors!)

The soldiers placed him down when Eugene had translated for them. When (Y/n) had seen who it was, she froze. She only came back to her senses when the other doctors came in and started asking about what to do, where she quickly took charge in telling them how to treat the wound.

After two long hours of stopping the bleeding and carefully trying to remove the bullet without puncturing an organ, they stitched the man up and moved him closer to Bastogne in a nicer, nursing station. (Y/n) was instructed to follow them to monitor and watch Captain Winters in case emergency surgery was needed again, or if he’d ripped a stitch. The only thing the woman got from them telling her that was, ‘He’s a captain?’. 

Captain Winters had woken up a day later, attempting to get up, he stopped himself when a seething pain stabbed at his chest. He groaned and slowly laid back down. 

(Y/n) had heard him groaning, and went to see how he was holding up and to tell him to be careful, but when she arrived, all words seemed to die out.

“Hello, sir.. Do you remember me?” ‘God what a stupid question. Of course he doesn’t remember me! We met one time! Just because you thought he was cute doesn’t mean he does.’ The girl thought as she grimaced at what came out of her mouth.

“Oh jeez, I’m sorry for being so unprofession-” The girl got cut off by the man’s words.

“Of course I remember you, you’re the woman with the pretty (h/c) hair.” The redhead blurted out without thinking. Before the man could get too wrapped up in his own self-deprecating thoughts, (Y/n) giggled.

“Well I sure am glad to hear that! Now, how about giving you some food and helping you wash up, you’re on bedrest for at least two weeks. After that, we’ll see how you're progressing.”

“I like the idea of that.” The man replied.

After eating a warm meal for what felt like the first time in years, the man was to be helped into the bath to get a much needed scrub down after being caked in blood, sweat and grime.

“I didn’t know you were a captain, sir.” (Y/n) mumbled while gently washing his hair.

“I was recently appointed one. Also, please, drop the formalities, you can call me Dick.” The man smiled while talking, he hadn’t felt this relaxed since he was forced to take a weekend in Paris by himself. 

“Oh! Alright then, Dick.” The woman said sweetly while Dick relaxed in the soapy bath with a beautiful woman massaging his scalp. The last thing he thought before falling asleep in the bath was, ‘I could get used to this.’

December 25, 1944

“Hello Dick, Merry Christmas!” (Y/n) smiled at him, out of her ragged surgeon clothing and into a nice winter dress.

“Merry Christmas to you too - I thought you had a weekend pass for Christmas?” The redhead asked, slightly taken aback by her outfit and her presence.

“Oh! I did, but I felt too bad to leave you here by yourself, so I thought I’d stay with you.” (Y/n) said while nervously fiddling with her pin-up curls.

Nobody ever gave Dick this kind of affection before, and it made his chest swell with love. He’d thought he was going to be stuck alone on Christmas with nothing to do and nothing to look forward to, but like an angel sent from heaven in the form of a beautiful (h/c) woman, he’d been saved.

(Y/n) read Gone with the Wind to Dick all day as her mother had sent it from America for her to read.

When the two weeks had come and gone, it was time to let Dick go back to war. Many men came to see him well before the two weeks and most were excited to have their Captain back.

(Y/n) was ordered to go back to the basement turned hospital, but when she arrived, the building was set ablaze as bombs rang through the air.

“Renée?!” She screamed out, looking for the woman who’d give her chocolate, and was always kind to her. 

People were screaming around her, but she heard none of it as she ran up to the burning building. She stopped when she saw a man she recognized as Eugene Roe, Easy Company’s field medic holding up Renée’s headscarf. (Y/n) knew that they were acquainted, but she didn’t know how far it truly went. 

“Renée..” The woman softly called out, looking more like a kicked puppy than the strong woman Eugene saw tending to his captain.

“Here, ya’ should have this.” Eugene told her, his accent shining through.

The woman had tears streaming down her cheeks as she took it from him, thanking him profusely. He simply nodded and said he needed to check on the others who were hurt and made it out, and he left with a sad smile. 

Dick heard the woman’s friend was killed by Kraut bombs when (Y/n) had come to a nursing station in Bastogne to continue to help out. He saw the way she wasn’t as optimistic to tend to soldiers' injuries, or to joke around with the men she’d become well acquainted with. It broke his heart to see the woman he loves become a shell of a person.

(Y/n) continued on, not only for herself, but for Renée as well. She knew that Renée would’ve wanted her to, and would’ve done the same thing. (Y/n) still wore the same uniform as before (albeit with a jacket and scarf as it was freezing in Bastogne) but now, she wore the blonde woman’s headscarf. A few months went by and slowly but surely, (Y/n)’s attitude had started shifting. She became more open again, and joked around more with her patients and soldiers. 

As Easy Company moved to Hagenau, so did (Y/n). She always moved with them, most times though she’d travel with the nurses, though most had been killed in the past couple of months. 

One night, when (Y/n) was attempting to fall back asleep after a nightmare, which was proving to be quite the challenge, she decided to get up and get some fresh air. With heavy feet, she grabbed her night robe to throw over white nightgown, and stepped into her slippers while grabbing her Lucky’s. 

When she made it outside, she leaned against the wall and pulled out a cigarette. While lighting it, she began to think, before a voice next to her made her jump.

“Smoking isn’t very good for your health, I thought you’d know that (Y/n).” A certain redhead said.

“You almost gave me a heart attack to tell me that?” The woman spit back while smiling at the captain.

“You seem to be fiesty tonight. Any explanation as to why?” Winters asked while smiling at her.

“This is how I normally act, I’m just so tired, that I’m not acting like a sweet little nurse.” She explained while taking a long drag out of her smoke.

The two’s eyes were locked, gazing softly at each other. Time felt as if it slowed down for a little and they started to slowly inch their faces towards each other while closing their eyes, when they were a centimeter apart, a door swung open by none other than Webster.

“Oh..OH! Oh, gee I’m sorry!” He quickly said while running back inside. 

(Y/n) embarrassedly, told Dick goodnight while putting out her cigarette, as Dick said the same, too embarrassed to say anything else.

When (Y/n) was in bed that night, her smoke break turned out to be fruitless as now she was more awake than ever.

May, 1945

(Y/n) was sitting at the bar, tipsy and bordering being drunk with Shifty, talking about what they’d be doing when they got home, while everyone else was too busy drinking and playing games. The war had ended, Germany had surrendered and Hitler shot himself. 

“I don’t know what I’ll be doing when I get home.” The woman told Shifty.

“I don’t have enough money to go back to school, and I need to get a husband sooner or later. Say, you’re a well-rounded man, if we’re not both married by 30, we should just marry each other.” That was definitely the alcohol talking as Shifty blushed an amazing red and replied, “I don’t think Captain Winters would be too happy with that, plus, you’re a beautiful woman, when you go home, men will flock to you.”

“I couldn’t have said it better.” A new voice chimed in.

“Dick! Where’d you come from!” The woman said, words spilling out without much thought as she put her around his waist due to his tall stature and Shifty slightly saluted him.

“I came to see you.” He said with a smile, completely serious.

“Well I was about to walk back! Walk with me.” The (h/c) woman told him while smiling a toothy grin towards him. He agreed and they left.

As they walked back, Dick had his arm tightly wrapped around her waist. He told himself it was to keep her safe, but he knew he just wanted an excuse to touch her. When they got back to her quarters, they stared into each other's eyes. 

“May I kiss you, (Y/n)?” Dick whispered, scared she didn’t hear him. Without responding, the woman put her hands on his face, and stood on her tiptoes to lightly press her lips to his. Dick kissed back with no argument. They eventually had to pull apart for oxygen, but the second kiss came quicker and rougher, and he slowly opened her door to the house and pushed her in, as the kiss got more and more heated. 

Eventually, they had made it upstairs into the bedroom, where they shared their love for each other.

July, 1946

“Dick, is this the correct house?” The woman asked.

“It has to be, this is where everyone’s meeting up.” He replied while getting out of the car and opening the door for his wife. (Y/n) got out and handed her husband the plate of cupcakes she made for the reunion between Easy Company. As they slowly walked up towards the front door, hand on her swollen stomach, David Webster swung the door open.

“Hey! You guys made it! I thought yo-” he paused and looked down at the woman’s larger stomach, “(Y/n) you’re pregnant.”

“Oh really Web? I hadn’t a clue.” The woman said while slightly pushing him out of the way.

“Is it a boy! Or a girl?!” The man was almost more excited than them when they’d got the news.

“You’ll find out when everyone else does.” She told him while laughing and met up with the others who also congratulated her and Dick.

It’s safe to say Webster hadn’t tasted a better strawberry flavored cupcake than when (Y/n) had made them that day.

[lace85]

Comment font les filles ?

Suite des confidences de Lace…

J'étais dans l'année de mes 15 ans, ma sœur ses 14 ans. Nos petits échanges de culottes s'étaient installés comme une habitude. Je me masturbais assez souvent et notre seau hygiénique ou un mouchoir recueillait ma liqueur. De temps à autre, ma sœur insistait pour regarder mais cela n'allait pas plus loin. Nous n'échangions pas de caresses mutuelles. Un frais dimanche matin d'hiver, ma sœur s'est glissée dans mon lit, en me réveillant. Elle prétextait avoir un peu froid et me demanda de la prendre dans mes bras. Nous étions tous les deux en culotte et tee-shirt. Je la serrais doucement, sans rien tenter de plus, lorsque qu'elle m'a dit : "Tu m'as montré comment font les garçons. Tu veux que je te montre comment font les filles pour avoir du plaisir ?" Tout émoustillé à cette idée, j'ai bien sûr accepté ce cadeau. Alors elle s'est dégagée de mes bras pour se mettre sur le dos. Elel a glissé ses doigts sur son entrejambe et par dessus sa culotte elle a commencé à se caresser. J'avais repoussé la couverture pour profiter de ce petit spectacle. Alors elle a pris ma main, l'a placé sur sa culotte et m'a guidé en doux mouvements de haut en bas. A un moment, sa respiration s'est accélérée et elle a émis de petits gémissements, lors j'ai su qu'elle avait du plaisir. Juste après, elle m'a dit " Hé bien petit cochon, je vois que ça t'a fait de l'effet ! Regarde, tu vas craquer ta culotte !" Elle a alors baissé le devant de ma culotte pour dégager ma queue raide et fièrement dressée. Elle a commencé a me prendre dans sa main pour la première fois. C'était tellement doux et agréable, j'étais prêt à exploser. J'ai retenu sa main en lui disant " Si tu continues, je vais cracher et il y en aura plein le lit !" Alors elle à enlevé sa culotte et l'a enroulé sur ma queue en couvrant mon gland de la doublure plus épaisse. C'était chaud, humide…Hummm ! et c'était juste à temps pour que je lâche une grosse giclée. Nous avons attendu que ma queue dégonfle et finisse de se vider puis elle a repris sa culotte trempée de nos plaisirs et je crois que la coquine s'est aussi léché sur les doigts ce qui avait débordé…

Continuation of Lace's secrets… How do the girls do it?

I was 15, my sister was 14. Our little exchanges of panties had become a habit. I masturbated quite often and our sanitary bucket or tissue would collect my juice. From time to time, my sister insisted on watching but it didn't go any further. We did not exchange mutual hugs. On a chilly winter Sunday morning, my sister crawled into bed, waking me up. She pretended to be a little cold and asked me to hold her. We were both in panties and t-shirts. I squeezed her gently, without trying anything more, when she said to me: "You showed me how boys do it. Do you want me to show you how girls do it to have pleasure?" Exhilarated by this idea, I of course accepted this gift. Then she got out of my arms and got on her back. Elel slid her fingers over her crotch and over her panties she began to caress herself. I had pushed the cover aside to enjoy this little spectacle. So she took my hand, placed it on her panties and guided me in gentle up and down movements. At one point, her breathing accelerated and she made small moans, then I knew she was having pleasure. Right after, she said to me, "Well, little piggy, I see that had an effect on you! Look, you're going to burst your pants!" She then pulled down the front of my panties to reveal my stiff and proudly erect cock. She started to take me in her hand for the first time. It was so sweet and nice, I was ready to explode. I held his hand and said, "If you continue, I'm going to spit and there will be a bed full of them!" Then she took off her panties and wrapped them over my cock covering my glans with the thicker lining. It was hot, humid…Hummm! and it was just in time for me to release a big load. We waited for my cock to deflate and finish emptying then she took back her panties soaked with our pleasures and I think the naughty girl also licked what had overflowed from her fingers…

[child-of-plut0]

In Bed The Kiss

inspired by the painting "Dans le Lit, le Baiser" by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec.

[mochademic]

100 Days of Productivity [Day: 75] || 100 Jours de Productivitè [Jour: 75]

celebrating the small wins with a heart shaped bowl of ice cream before bed.

you know you’ve done a lot of writing when your hand starts to cramp just from holding a pen. even still, I find it satisfying. filling pages with plans & expectations. filling books with ideas & theories alike. I can feel the seasons changing in my daily routine. I’m ready for change, as I have been.

currently listening // Omg by Smalitz

Célébrer les petites victoires avec un bol de glace en forme de cœur avant d'aller au lit.

vous savez que vous avez beaucoup écrit lorsque votre main commence à avoir des crampes rien qu'en tenant un stylo. malgré tout, je trouve cela satisfaisant. remplir des pages avec des plans et des attentes. remplir des livres avec des idées et des théories. Je peux sentir les saisons changer dans ma routine quotidienne. Je suis prête pour le changement, comme je l'ai été.

chanson // Omg par Smalitz

[lacesconfidences]

Suite des confidences de Lace… Une utilisation plaisir de la serviette périodique.

Nos petits moments coquins du dimanche matin étaient maintenant une habitude et se terminaient invariablement par une explosion de sperme dans une culotte, voir deux car mes éjaculations devenaient maintenant assez abondantes. Si bien que ces culottes trempées passaient difficilement inaperçues dans la corbeille de linge sale que notre mère collectait. Nous étions souvent obligés de les laver en cachette et de les sécher avant de les mettre au linge sale. Au moment de me masturber, ma sœur m'a dit "j'espère que tu ne vas pas encore vider tes couilles comme un gros cochon, ça va encore déborder !" Et puis elle a sauté du lit et est allée chercher une de ses serviettes périodiques. C'était de grosses "Vania" bien épaisses et longues, légèrement parfumées, qu'elle jetait ensuite dans un petit sachet une fois qu'elle les avait utilisées. J'étais sur le dos, ma queue fièrement dressée et pleine de l'excitation des caresses que nous avions échangé. Elle a plié la serviette par dessus pour la recouvrir. C'était doux et agréable. Ensuite elle a entrepris de recouvrir cette serviette en glissant par dessus le sachet de plastique. Elle a eu quelques difficultés car l'ensemble était un peu gros pour rentrer dans le sachet. Une fois son installation terminée, ma queue s'est retrouvée dans un fourreau tout doux et étanche. En quelques va et viens de ce vagin improvisé, mon plaisir est venu et j'ai déchargé de longues giclées dans cette serviette. Une fois bien vidée et débandée, elle a ôté son montage et déballé le serviette de son sachet. Ma queue est ressortie propre et sèche mais ma sœur a été déçue car la serviette a absorbé toute ma liqueur, comme si je n'avais pas déchargé. Elle était juste humide et parfumée de mon sperme. Pour un essai, ce fut une réussite et nous avons après cela consommé pas mal de serviettes, avec des variantes que je vous raconterais plus tard…

*****************************************************

Continuation of Lace’s secrets… A use of the periodic towel.

Our naughty little Sunday morning moments were now a habit and invariably ended with an explosion of sperm in a pair of panties, or even two because my ejaculations were now becoming quite abundant. So much so that these soaked panties were difficult to go unnoticed in the basket of dirty laundry that our mother collected. We often had to wash them in secret and dry them before putting them in the dirty laundry. When I was about to masturbate, my sister said to me "I hope you don't empty your balls like a big pig again, it's going to overflow again!" And then she jumped out of bed and went to get one of her period pads. They were large, very thick and long "Vania", lightly scented, which she then threw into a small bag once she had used them. I was on my back, my cock proudly erect and full of excitement from the caresses we had exchanged. She folded the towel over it to cover it. It was soft and pleasant. Then she began to cover this towel by sliding over the plastic bag. She had some difficulty because the whole thing was a little big to fit into the bag. Once its installation was completed, my cock found itself in a very soft and waterproof sheath. In a few thrusts of this improvised vagina, my pleasure came and I discharged long spurts into this towel. Once completely emptied and disbanded, she took off her rig and unwrapped the towel from its bag. My cock came out clean and dry but my sister was disappointed because the towel soaked up all my juice, as if I hadn't unloaded. It was just wet and scented with my cum. For a test, it was a success and after that we used up quite a few pads, with variations that I will tell you about later…

[academic-vampire]

“Le Dormeur du Val”

-Poem By Arthur Rimbaud

C'est un trou de verdure où chante une rivière

Accrochant follement aux herbes des haillons

D'argent ; où le soleil, de la montagne fière,

Luit; c'est un petit val qui mousse de rayons.

Un soldat jeune, bouche ouverte, tête nue,

Et la nuque baignant dans le frais cresson bleu,

Dort ; il est étendu dans l'herbe, sous la nue,

Pâle dans son lit vert où la lumière pleut.

Les pieds dans les glaïeuls, il dort.

Souriant comme

Sourirait un enfant malade, il fait un somme :

Nature, berce-le chaudement : il a froid.

Les parfums ne font pas frissonner sa narine ;

Il dort dans le soleil, la main sur sa poitrine

Tranquille. Il a deux trous rouges au côté droit.

Translation:

“The Sleeper in the Valley”

It is a green hollow where a stream gurgles,

Crazily snagging its silver tatters on the grasses;

Where the sun shines from the proud mountain:

It is a little valley bubbling over with light.

A young soldier, open-mouthed, bare-headed,

With the nape of his neck bathed in cool blue cress,

Sleeps; he is stretched out on the grass, under the sky,

Pale on his green bed where the light falls like rain.

His feet in the yellow flags, he lies sleeping. Smiling as

A sick child might smile, he is having a nap:

Cradle him warmly, Nature: he is cold.

No scent makes his nostrils quiver;

He sleeps in the sun, his hand on his breast

At peace. There are two red holes in his right side.

———————

(My French friend read this poem to me once and it has stuck with me ever since. So beautiful. So tragic.)

[drawnecromancy]

Heads up, Seven up !

Wahoo, thanks for the tag @nettleandthorne :D

Tagging : @isabellebissonrouthier, @the-stray-storyteller, @jezifster, and open tag ! Go wild !

Let me... grab the WIP. And translate under the cut. Because it's still in french. lmfao. this SHOULD be 7 sentences if I can count some of them r just insanely long/unclear because this is not edited at all.

Et elle allait le laisser faire, parce qu'il la payait, parce qu'elle ne voulait pas lâcher ce semblant de normalité qu'elle avait arraché à la vie. Même si cela risquait de coûter celle de la duchesse, comme cela avait coûté celle de la famille des jeunes qu'elle considérait presque comme la sienne maintenant, comme il lui en coûtait à chaque fois qu'elle se laissait aller à réfléchir. Elle était couarde. Et malgré la charge de travail qu'elle s'imposait pour oublier, malgré ses doutes sur la possibilité de faire confiance au vampire, malgré ce qu'elle savait de ce que lui et Anne orchestraient, elle était incapable de se raisonner assez pour partir et le laisser se débrouiller tout seul, ou bien avouer toute la vérité à Anne, à quiconque, avant de disparaître. Elle rendait toujours visite à Hélianthe, il semblait toujours heureux de la voir même s'il sentait une nouvelle réserve dans la façon dont elle lui adressait la parole, alors même qu'elle partageait encore son lit de temps en temps. A croire que, lorsqu'elle était avec le vampire, elle était sous l'emprise d'un sort. Possibilité bien réelle qu'elle tentait constamment d'oublier.

And she was going to let him do it, because he was paying her, because she was unwilling to let go of this semblance of normalcy she'd ripped away from life. Despite the fact that it could cost the duchess', despite that it had cost the families' of the teenagers she now almost considered to be hers, despite that it was costing her any time she let herself reflect upon it. She was a coward. And despite the amount of work she forced herself to do to forget, despite her doubts about the possibility of trusting the vampire, despite what she knew of his and Anne's plans, she was incapable of reasoning herself enough to just leave and let him figure this out alone, or to tell the entire truth to Anne, to anyone, before disappearing. She still visited Hélianthe, he still seemed happy to see her even though he felt her more reserved whenever she was speaking to him, even as she still shared his bed from time to time. Almost as if, when she was near the vampire, she was under a spell. A definitely real possibility that she constantly tried to forget.

[kilfeur]

Du mal à dormir (Having trouble to sleep)

Elle se souvient de ses deux ans de traque, elle a eu du mal à trouver le sommeil. Toujours à rester en alerter, ne dormir qu'un seul oeil au cas où quelqu'un s'approche d'elle durant son sommeil. Ses deux ans seule, trouver Stella a été une source de réconfort, lui permettant de tenir le coup. Pourtant quand elle lève les yeux vers le ciel, elle pense à Callum et à Ezran. Ils lui manquent terriblement, elle aimerait tant les revoir ! Mais elle doit retrouver Viren, il le faut, elle a besoin de réponses concernant sa famille. Pendant ces deux ans, cette quête de le traquer, finit par devenir une obsession. Ce n'est qu'une fois, qu'elle est arrivée à Port Racaille après avoir agressé un mage noire, qu'elle en a assez ! Elle aura beau le chercher partout, elle pourra jamais le trouver !

Et puis qui lui dit qu'il est encore vivant ?! Il est tombé depuis la montagne de la flèche de tempête. Comment pourrait-t-il être encore vivant ?! Elle soupire et est retourné à Katolis, chez elle ! Les retrouvailles ont été mouvementés et compliqués et ça le frustrait un peu, elle semble comprendre mais ne semble pas vouloir jusqu'à quel point elle avait blessé celui qu'elle aime. Ezran était content de la revoir, Soren ne semble pas comprendre pourquoi elle agit ainsi. Or ce n'est que plus tard, qu'elle finit par comprendre et qu'elle sent qu'elle peut devenir plus forte non pas toute seule mais ensemble.

Un soir, elle se réveille, il fait encore nuit mais étonnamment, elle a jamais aussi bien dormi. Elle regarde à côté d'elle, Callum dort paisiblement dans son lit. Elle lui sourit avant de caresser tendrement ses cheveux et se rendormir. Elle peut enfin dormir car enfin depuis longtemps, elle se sent en sécurité.

___________________________________

She remembers her two years of tracking, finding it hard to sleep. Always on the alert, sleeping with one eye open in case anyone came near her while she was asleep. Her two years alone, finding Stella has been a source of comfort, keeping her going. Yet when she looks up to the sky, she thinks of Callum and Ezran. She misses them terribly and would love to see them again! But she must find Viren, she has to, she needs answers about her family. During these two years, this quest to track him down becomes an obsession. It's not until she arrives in Port Racaille after assaulting a dark mage that she's had enough! No matter how hard she looks, she'll never find him!

And who's to say he's still alive?! He fell from the mountain of the storm spire. How could he still be alive?! She sighed and returned home to Katolis! The reunion had been hectic and complicated and it frustrated her a little, she seemed to understand but didn't seem to want how much she'd hurt the one she loved. Ezran was happy to see her again, Soren doesn't seem to understand why she's acting this way. But it's only later that she finally understands and feels that she can become stronger, not alone, but together.

One evening, she wakes up; it's still dark, but surprisingly, she's slept better than ever. She looks beside her, Callum sleeping peacefully in his bed. She smiles at him before tenderly stroking his hair and drifting back to sleep. At last she can sleep, because at last, after a long time, she feels safe.

[charlastorfrenchlove]

One Shot Charlastor FR

Un court extrait :

Le corps d'Alastor était ensanglanté , son corps était douloureux et il savait qu'il n'en avait pour plus pour bien longtemps le simple fait de respirer lui faisait souffrir sans doute du à ses côtes perforées. Pourquoi il en est arrivé là ? Pour sa liberté ou sa soif de pouvoir ou peut-être bien les deux , la grande silhouette du roi de l'enfer se tient face à lui lui tournant le dos . Visiblement le démon de la radio a été beaucoup trop gourmand , peut-être qu'il a été bien trop  présomptueux d'avoir voulu manipuler la famille royale d'avoir voulu se jouer de la fille de Lucifer . Elle a été si facile à séduire et à mettre dans son lit , des mots bien choisit un sourire enjôleur et un constant soutient aura suffit à l'avoir .  Charlie était devenue sa petite marionnette , elle qui l'aimait d'un amour sincère . Il lui a suffit d'une seule erreur tout simplement parce que notre démon de la radio a paniqué et à cru pouvoir évincer le roi de l'enfer facilement tout en se servant de sa fille en tant qu'otage .

Hors Al n'avait pas prévu que Lucifer ne prenne pas peur du fait qu'il menaçait sa fille et lui a fait regretter à bien des égards d'avoir osé se servir de sa fille de la sorte , bien que Charlie avait gentiment retiré sa laisse Alastor n'avait pas vraiment estimé la puissance du roi de l'enfer .En d'autre termes il s'est clairement sur estimé et de loin . Quant à Charlie cette pauvre enfant ne pouvait que regarder les deux hommes qu'elle aime de manière différente bien entendu , son père d'un amour filiale et l'autre d'un amour passionnée . Complètement paralysée par la peur , la peur d'en perdre un des deux voir les deux .

C'est une fois le combat terminé que la princesse de l'enfer retrouve ses esprits , son père était légèrement blessé mais ses jours ne sont pas en danger par contre elle ne pouvait pas en dire autant de son amant au sol . Après quelques instants d'hésitation la démone blonde se précipite vers le démon souffrant se met à genoux et cale sa tête sur ses genoux caressant doucement son visage .Les paupières du démon rouge s'ouvre difficilement et ses pupilles se dirigent vers la démone blonde qui caresse sa joue affectueusement .

...

Alastor's body was bloody, his body was in pain and he knew he wouldn't last much longer; the simple act of breathing made him suffer, probably due to his punctured ribs. Why did it come to this? For his freedom or his thirst for power or perhaps both, the tall figure of the king of hell stands facing him with his back turned. Obviously the radio demon was much too greedy, perhaps he was too presumptuous to have wanted to manipulate the royal family and to have wanted to play with Lucifer's daughter. She was so easy to seduce and get into bed, well chosen words, a flirtatious smile and constant support were enough to get her. Charlie had become his little puppet, she who loved him with a sincere love. All it took was one mistake simply because our radio demon panicked and thought he could easily oust the king of hell while using his daughter as a hostage.

However, Al had not expected that Lucifer would not be afraid of the fact that he was threatening his daughter and made him regret in many ways having dared to use his daughter in this way, although Charlie had kindly withdrawn his let Alastor had not really estimated the power of the King of Hell. In other words he clearly overestimated himself by far. As for Charlie, this poor child could only look at the two men she loves in different ways of course, her father with a filial love and the other with a passionate love. Completely paralyzed by fear, the fear of losing one or even both.

It was once the fight was over that the princess of hell regained her senses, her father was slightly injured but his life was not in danger, however she could not say the same about her lover on the ground. After a few moments of hesitation, the blonde demon rushes towards the suffering demon, kneels and places his head on her knees, gently caressing his face. The red demon's eyelids open with difficulty and his pupils move towards the blonde demoness who caresses his cheek affectionately.

[blood-mocha-latte]

godly, illegal, versed — gene and renée drabble

for an ask from @xxluckystrike || request an edit/drabble || i contemplated briefly writing this entirely in french and offering a translation, but figured that i wanted to go a different route, lmao. plus, renée is too wonderful to have to withstand my rusty french lol. there still is french in here and it’s all mine, so if there are fuck-ups that’s why asdfghjkl

When she closed her eyes, she always saw the windows.

Her mother had had a painting like that, years ago, when she was a child. People clustered around a shop window glowing orange with comfort, holding sweets or clothes or toys inside.

“Tout Paris brille ainsi.” She’d murmur, holding her close, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Nous irons là-bas et nous danserons dans cette lumière.”

“Quand?” Renée had asked, her breath shaky, running a finger across the texture of the canvas, wondering how man could make something so godly.

That didn’t much matter, now.

The windows of the Bastogne church did not glow, nor shine, and she did not dance under their light. 

((Once, during an artillery barrage, a fire had lit against the bodies of those lined up beside the church. It had cast its deadly light every which way, not so much guidance as a flickering omnipresence. 

She had stared at that light's reflections, watched it dance in pools of blood. The man she held, keeping one hand on the side of his face and the other across his collarbones, a poor facsimile of a hug, gasped under her. Une plaie par aspiration thoracique. A sucking chest wound. There was nothing she could do.))

“Mes frères me manquent,” Anna told her once, as they hid in the looming shelter of the church, breaking chocolate in between them. “Mais je ne pense pas que je pourrais partir d'ici.” 

Renée had closed her eyes, just briefly, a facsimile of rest. She thought of her mother, her sister. “Oui.” She’d murmured.

Both of them would probably leave, in a moment. With blood on their hands, light gone from their eyes, in their hearts knowing that to leave these screaming boys was to be worse than the devil, worse than god. More illegal than murdering a man in cold blood and leaving him to rot in his lover's bed. But it was better to pretend they had a choice in what they’d chosen than not.

Everything was the same and different; a limbo of the church. Soldiers that were tired and sick and hurting. She wondered if she’d be better at helping them if she wasn’t also.

The boy was new.

She sat with him, on the crumbling bench, unwrapping chocolate. It tasted like ash. Everything did.

He was silent, after commenting on her hands. She wondered if she gave the wrong answer. I never want to see a wounded man again. 

She had to think carefully about her words, next, and broke off another square of chocolate to distract herself.

“My mother was a nurse in the Great War.” She told the chocolate wrapper. The boy shifted next to her. Eugène, he said. His name. She’d had an uncle named Eugène. “I wanted to… to help, like her.” Eugène was quiet next to her.

“You are helping.” He said, voice low. He didn’t look at her, either. “More than most.”

No one who would notice will live. She thought, and did not say. The silence stretched between them like silk. 

“My grand-père fought in the same war.” Eugène said. “But he killed people. Hurt them.”

“So you are not like him?”

Eugène huffed. “I think I might be.” He murmured to the snow trodden ground. Renée hummed. She thought of her mother. Of her sister.

“Stay safe, yes?” She told Eugène. “Run between the fire.”

Eugène nodded, eyes on the ground. “You too.” He said. Renée nodded back.

“Il y a un garçon qui n'a pas plus de dix-sept ans à l'intérieur.” Anna told her, later that night. The front of her clothes were stained with blood. Renée wrapped her fingers around her wrist and squeezed gently, just to know she was still there. “J'ai besoin d'aide pour le garder immobile.”

Renée let go of her to look briefly over her shoulder. The boy had gone back to his soldiers on the last van. She hoped he wouldn’t have to come back with another, screaming and bloody and calling him Gene, asking him to please help.

“Chirurgie?” She asked. Anna sighed, nodded to the back. A well versed dance.

“Bras.” Was all she said. Renée scrubbed a hand down her face. It left the coppery-taste of blood and chocolate in her mouth.

“Ma mère aimait danser.” She told Eugène. The surgeon called her down but didn’t need her help for long. She searched through torn up bedsheets and everything else for what the boy could bring back to his soldiers. “Elle a toujours voulu aller à Paris et danser sous ses lumières.” 

Eugène hummed. His face was lined with exhaustion. She could see blood under his fingernails when he picked up a roll of fabric she’d torn from a dead boy’s bedsheets. “Si jamais vous voulez visiter Paris aussi,” He said, “Je pourrais venir avec vous.” 

Renée nodded to him. She was mostly just tired. She doubted she could ever dance again without feeling it in her bones.

She didn’t hurt. The plywood was like a blanket.

She imagined she could feel her mothers lips press to her hair, her arms holding her. Her warmth.

“Ma petite fille forte.” Her mother whispered. “Viens danser à Paris avec moi.”

When she closed her eyes, she saw the windows.