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deonsx · 10 months ago

Text

Teacher/Student Relationship With Bsd Men

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Nikolai, Kunikida, Ranpo

Content: Smut, Fem!Reader, Fluff, Nsfw, Rude Talk

Not:You've both been of age for a long time

Dazai Osamu

• He's definitely a philosophy teacher and likes to fill people's minds with his theories

• You were the one who took the first step in your relationship, he rejected you the first time but you didn't give up that easily, you flirted a lot to get him and finally he agreed to be with you but of course he didn't want anyone to know about it, that's how your secret love started

• He wasn't one to hide it during classes. He would approach your desk and constantly ask you questions "S/o what do you think about this?" It was really difficult to teach the lesson with him

• This brunette definitely has a classroom fantasy..he calls you to his classroom after school is over..he likes to fuck you on his desk while the light is shining on you while the surroundings are orange with the setting sun

• Students are suspicious of his relationship with you, because even though Dazai has a secret love life, he is constantly watching you in class and does not forget to wink from time to time

• No, copying is forbidden, even if you are his lover, any copying will translate into extra fantasy punishments for him to fuck you at night "You need to know that no exceptions will be made for you" he just thought about the punishments he will give you at night as he took the cheat sheet and left

• He is definitely a man who loves making love. You heard from the gossip in the class that he had many girlfriends in the past, so he is very experienced, he likes a slow and sensual sex, and you had your first love 8 months after you became lovers, you forced him.. he was waiting for you

"Nghhh~!!" You wrapped your hands in the sheets as he pushed his full hardness into you. "Why did you cheat, dear?" He spoke with his tongue while leaving a wet line on your chest, all the way to your belly button. As he continued his hard thrusts, your surroundings were now completely blurry for you. How did you get to this point, how many times did you cum now? 5? 6? You don't remember, "You look really beautiful, you like me fucking you, right..?" "osamu--!!!" you screamed as he gave you quick strokes on your sweet part. The knot in your stomach quickly broke and a new one was added to the ejaculations you can't count

“I don't want anything like this in my lesson again, my love, is that understood?”

Chuuya Nakahara

• In my opinion, he would be either a German language instructor or a mathematics teacher

• He is definitely a very disciplined teacher and when you first confessed your feelings to him, he punished you and with that confession, he made the exams difficult for you and did not show even the slightest tolerance

• The first day your relationship with him, that is, the cold wall he built against you, started to melt was the day he got sick and neglected to come to school. You ran away from school that day and went to your teacher's house. He was angry when he saw you, but he couldn't say anything because he almost fainted

• You babysat him the day he was sick and made the ice in his heart melt. After that day, everything seemed to be a little more rosy for you. Chuuya avoided you mostly outside of class, but after weeks, he accepted his feelings, even though it was undisciplined and inappropriate for him, he avoided running away every time was bored

• he is really watching you all the time whether he is in class or not he stays near your class and watches the boys who talk to you (Those boys will fail his class) he is very jealous and may even give them a punishment

• Now let's get to the main point, how about sex? Do you have fantasies? How long after did he accept it? He's definitely the best at his job. He's committed to pleasing you. He doesn't have any perverted fantasies, but he won't say no to fucking you in the classroom. You had your first love 1 year after your relationship started and you definitely felt like you were in heaven that night

"Tell me, my love..." you barely heard his words as my legs were shaking. He had you sit on his dick and was making you solve math problems on the table in front of you.. "I-I don't know chuuya~!" Your brain became more fuzzy with every second as he thrust into you "Nghhh~~!!!" Chuuya slowly wrapped your hair from your wet skin to his hands. "My love, this is not the answer." You tried to get up while your legs were shaking, but when Chuuya's hand quickly pulled you back, a harsh moaning sound was heard

"If you continue like this, you will make me fuck you until the morning”

Fyodor Dostoyevski

• he is a physics teacher and teaches a lesson like death

• Everyone is trying not to fall asleep in his class. He is a very strict teacher and is the type of person who always takes a student to the blackboard. He keeps giving advice because he is an extremely religious teacher

• Now, if we look at it from a serious perspective, he definitely does not talk to his students outside of class, although the reason is not known, as if it were a rule for him and no student goes beyond this rule

• You didn't confess your feelings for him! (THIS IS A FIRST!) because you were really afraid of his reaction, instead of confessing to him, you constantly prepared meals in containers and gave them to him anonymously, and every morning there was a brand new note on his food: "You are very serious today, Mr. Dostoyevsky" "I hope you will notice my admiration and passion for you” "I can't stop thinking about you" or more spicy notes. It took months for these notes to flow, and although Fyodor hated it at first, months later he was waiting for those notes with a grin on his face every time

• He finally found you, but of course he wanted to see the person who wrote him these notes for months. He knew you were a student, but you didn't expect him to find you, and even though you denied his allegations against you, he knew everything from the beginning, he just laughed and you saw him smile for the first time, making your face turn red "All those notes were sweet"

• He definitely plays a sadistic role in sex and has many fantasies he only sees fit to make you suffer if it gives you pleasure and of course there is a safe word between you two that he stops when you tell him "Are you okay darling...did it hurt that much?"

• Yes, he is the one who thinks about having a secret relationship and sometimes acts like you don't exist in class. When you said you were upset about it, he never did that again

"ahhhh~!!" You were in the teachers' lounge, school had already closed and you couldn't hold back a moan as Fyodor continued to slam into you "You want to be known by others, slut" he grinned as he continued to thrust hard into you and hit your sweet spot "You want everyone to see and watch us like this, right..you are so naughty" his long white fingers He grabbed your waist hard and continued whispering to you with sweat running down his forehead

“The school is ours all night long. You can moan as much as you want, dear”

Nikolai Gogol

• He is a biology teacher and he doesn't even care about his lesson. He usually dozes off in class and doesn't care even if the students complain

• he sleeps all the time. Usually, his classes are the last classes of the day, so after he falls asleep, no one knows when he wakes up. One day you rejected the invitation of your friends and when school ended, you stayed in the classroom, covered his with your shawl, left a kiss on his white hair and left him there that day

• The next day, Nikolai must have found out who that shawl belonged to, because he called a student to his office for the first time, all the students said that someone had made him angry, because otherwise, why would Nikolai do something he has never done and care about his job? Yes, he found you and you saw him more serious than ever that day, but instead of saying anything harsh to you, he just thanked you

• From that day on, Nikolai never slacked off, he taught in a straight and disciplined manner. Even though the whole school was shocked by this situation, no one, including you, understood what changed him... But you were happy that you could listen to his conversations now. Weeks later, he started talking to his students

• you were always watching him in classes and after a while, it was like a bond formed between you, like an invisible rope... and he was the first one to confess after months. Your flirtation probably lasted more than 2 years, but eventually your relationship started

• Oh boy, he's a beast in bed, he's gone beyond his laziness limit, you've never seen that laziness again, he likes to film everything that happens with you so he can use it later if he needs it at school, he's got a fast and serious speed

"Smile my love~!!!" While he fucked you from behind, he tangled his hand in your hair and asked you to look at the camera "Nikolai~!! stop it this is too much...~!!!" nikolai moaned as the rapid thrusts continued their course "Fuck! You're so tight darling~~" you weren't even sure how many photos and videos you took with the camera, your mind was so blurry and you were on the point of fainting

"The night is just starting, my love, I love watching you"

Kunikida Doppo

• We already know that he is a mathematics teacher! And one of the very strict ones!

• He's the toughest on this list...because he's actually a gentleman with 58 ideals and a math teacher, and you're a student so you can't meet most of his ideals

• It's impossible to talk to him. He doesn't listen to the students unless there is a "math question" and walks away. In the eyes of the students, he is a rude and self-aware person. It was obvious that you couldn't talk to him normally, so you took the hardest option, Private lessons

• Now you don't think that this guy gives private lessons in a completely random way? He has criteria for students and yes, you spent months to meet them and just to take these private lessons and you got that chance again, he still has a long way to go before you, even if you try to flirt with him during lessons, he is definitely a heavy disciplinarian and quickly gets off topic

• You confessed to him after 2-3 months and of course it wouldn't be easy, he threw away all his lessons with you..and now your job had become twice as difficult, but since you thought his ideal woman would be an intelligent woman, you focused on your lessons and gained as much knowledge as him, of course it did not go unnoticed by him and finally started talking to you again

• He gave you a chance and you went to the movie night. After that chance, you went on more dates and eventually you started a relationship and yes, of course, your relationship was secret, it was unthinkable otherwise

• How is it at night? He is definitely a trick when it comes to romance that will attract your woman in the best way. He has learned fantasies just for you (maybe he wants to see you in different positions:0)

You were tied to your bed with your hands handcuffed. Kunikida was trying out a fantasy he was curious about on you again "Do you feel nice, my love?" He had the decency to ask you as he slowly moved in and out of you and he nodded. You bit your lip to moan as your hair clung to your face. "I want to hear your Ssshhh voice" As he slowly accelerated, his wrists started to hurt and it would probably leave scars tomorrow

"Fucking you like this... makes me feel so good"

Ranpo Edogawa

• He is a mathematician and he is definitely the best at his job. No one at school recognizes him as a teacher. He is known as the genius teacher of the school and has enough knowledge to teach all other subjects

• Yes, the fact that he is smart does not eliminate his most important feature of laziness, he is a complete sleepwalker, but he rarely skips classes just

• He is a teacher who is comfortable enough to give you the answers to your grades in exchange for bribes, that is, things like snacks, and he is the most comfortable among them

• If his heart is running on junk food, then you will bribe him every day for the opportunity to talk to him, but of course you will do it without making it look like that

• You started bringing him small snacks every day, each time saying "Ranpo-san!!! Look what I got you?" "Special candy day!!" "I bought it from your favorites" he continued like this every day, even though he always made sure you passed your classes, what you wanted was much more than grades

• Although it wasn't easy for him to give you a chance, it didn't take him long to ask the girl who did so much for him and that's how you started dating, of course it was a secret relationship again. After spending months with you, Ranpo rented a house with you and now you started staying with him

• You make love every night..he is very lazy but how can he miss it when such a beautiful woman attracts him..slow and sweet sex will satisfy his pleasure

"F-fuck my love, keep going~~" while you were jumping on his swollen dick, he was breathing his hot breath into the cold room. His face was red and his eyes were narrowed. "Nghh~ You like this, right, Ranpo? You can beg, my dear" Ranpo laughed hoarsely, although not very loudly, at what he said and his cold hands held your hips

"I'm punishing you to bounce on my dick all night long my love, thank you for this pleasure"

Enjoy!

Tags!!~~

@lunaaka @zbriia @hiddensideofmoon @cupidszvlvr @skelitea @cocodrilofeliz @n1chxyaaenthusiast @muichiroismylove @camillesartbook @eggcoreloser @mizuxii

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roseghoul26 · 2 months ago

Text

König x fem!Reader

Synopsis: After a long day, König offers some much-needed “stress relief”. Tags: Title From A Sabrina Carpenter Song, Bed Chem - Sabrina Carpenter, Edging, Not Beta Read, Fem Pronouns For Reader, Bit Of A Size Kink, Porn No Plot, Vibrators, Fingering, Cunnilingus, König Lifts His Mask The Tiniest Amount To Eat You Out, Scar Kink(?), Is That Even A Thing, Doggystyle, Safe Sex, German Is A Fun Language, Kissing, Cuddling Author's Note: My four-and-a-half years of German classes are finally coming into use (but I’m nowhere near fluent, so correct my mistakes lol). Also contains descriptions of what I imagine König to look like. Everyone is free to their own interpretation. Also I'm like a year too late for this but whatever lol and this one is just pure porn guys, so... do with that what you will Explicit content, minors DNI

You felt ridiculous.

Desperate. Anxious. Ridiculous.

Pacing across your small room didn’t help, your frenzied state unending. Anxiety hammered your heart, your stomach twisted in knots, and your hands ached from tensing them so much. Your breathing wasn’t much better, coming and going in quick huffs of air; you felt like you were going to pass out.

You were a goddamn soldier, a ruthless mercenary; you shouldn’t be acting this way. You’d faced down the worst of humanity and came out victorious; the idea of König coming to your room shouldn’t render you so… timid.

You’re not sure why you took König up on his offer for “stress relief”. He’d seen how tense you were all day around the base, the reason for that feeling long since forgotten, your words clipped, muscles tensed. It wasn’t an unusual emotion for you, but he’d never offered his assistance.

Until today. You weren’t quite sure what changed.

A shiver went down your spine when you remembered his voice as he whispered, large frame pressed up close against yours, but not close enough to touch. “Let me help you, Schatz,” he’d said, and you were certain if you could see his face, there’d be a smirk on his lips. You wondered if he knew how you felt about him.

Desperate to be rid of the tension in your body, and desperate for him, you’d agreed. It wasn’t until you’d reached your room that it sunk in, what you’d agreed to. It wasn’t that you regretted it, far from it, but now your stress levels were even higher than they were before.

You wouldn’t lie and say that you hadn’t hoped that something like this would happen. You’d had the biggest crush, which sounded so juvenile for someone like you, on him since the moment you’d signed on with KorTac a few years ago.

And how could you not? He was tall, almost intimidatingly so, with a broad build to match. And the muscles weren’t all for show, just as deadly with his body as he was with his weapons out on the field. You remember the first time you’d watched him take down someone with his hands, a memory that had ingrained itself into your dirtiest dreams.

As for the rest of his appearance, you weren’t quite sure. He’d never taken off his “mask” (a shirt, you’d later come to find out) in front of you, even when on jobs together. You never pried, though, respecting his need for privacy. And besides, you didn’t have to see his face to know that he was the most stunning person you’d ever met. His eyes, baby blue, yet torturously haunted, were all that you needed to see to confirm that. After years of only seeing them, you’d gotten good at reading them like you would facial expressions.

Too caught up in your thoughts, you nearly tripped as your foot caught on the edge of your bed, a small, dingy thing. A mix of a sigh and groan left you, as well as a soft curse as you shook your hurt foot. Glancing at the small LED clock beside your bed, the time read 9:26.

König hadn’t given you a time when you asked, only a teasing, “Tonight.” Which meant, that at any moment, you’d hear him knocking on your door.

Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe this was all a joke, a cruel one at that. Maybe he knew about your infatuation with him, and this was his response. Deep down, you knew König enough to know that he wouldn’t do something like that, but your anxiety-riddled brain couldn’t think rationally right now.

Before disappointment could set in, there was a surprisingly gentle knock on the door. But to you, it sounded like two gunshots had just gone off in the room, your ears now ringing in response.

A soft gasp left you, and you swore your heart stopped. Taking a second to take a deep breath, you fixed your hair as you walked to the door, suddenly worried about your appearance. Your hand shook as you grabbed the handle, time seemingly slowing as you opened the door.

There, just like he said he would be, was König, his body damn near filling the entire doorframe, the tiniest bits of light from the hallway sneaking in. He was dressed down, which made sense for the time of day, so it shouldn’t have come as such a shock to you to see his bare arms. He must’ve been feeling particularly cruel, to be wearing a tight, black short-sleeve shirt instead of his usual loose long-sleeves. His hands were shoved into the pockets of some black sweatpants, and it almost felt wrong to see him like this.

And as his eyes widened the tiniest amount, you realized that he, too, had never seen you in loungewear. Wearing a tank top and some sleep shorts, you might as well have been naked with the way his gaze roamed over your body, setting your body alight. A part of you wondered if this was the first time he’d looked at you like this, or if your attraction hadn’t been as one-sided as you believed.

You weren’t quite sure what to say; you both knew why he was here. So instead of making a fool of yourself by attempting to talk, you took a step back, wordlessly inviting König into your room.

As he stepped in, you watched as his head moved around, taking in his surroundings. Your room wasn’t much, but it was a step up from the shared room you had when you first joined. There was a bed, a full size at most, the headboard pressed up against the wall, with standard-issue grey sheets. A nightstand sat beside it, with the LED clock, and a lamp that currently struggled to fight against the darkness of the night as it poured through the lame excuse of a window that resided at the top of the wall. A few other pieces of furniture, a dresser, a desk, and a shelf, were each in their respective spots, leaving not a lot of free room.

So, as König walked in, your room felt incredibly small, nearly suffocating. It didn’t help that every time you saw König your breathing turned labored, which wasn’t the best thing to happen to you out on the field. But your years of suppressing your desires had trained you well, able to put on an impression that you were unaffected.

“Do you want this?”

You’d barely heard König, your heart thudding too loudly. He had turned to face you, hands still in his pockets, a casual stance. But his eyes told a different story, hooded with lust, and boring into you.

Swallowing, you failed to notice the way his eyes zeroed in on the action. Nodding your head was the only thing you could do, never feeling so certain bout something in your life. But you were nervous. What if you disappointed him? What if this wrecked what relationship the two of you had? What if this was all still a joke?

You hadn't expected König to have moved so that he was right in front of you. Was he always this tall? Towering over you, you felt his fingers, free from their usual gloves, grasp your chin, forcing your eyes onto him. A strangled noise died in your throat at the action, but he felt it, and you watched his eyes crinkle in the corners. He was grinning.

“Use your words, Schatz.” The endearment, although in a foreign language, made you melt. You weren’t entirely sure what it meant, even after hearing it before, but he said it so sweetly that you didn’t need to know what it meant to feel its effects.

Your heart was fluttering now, your brain fighting between feeling anxious and exhilarated. König must’ve detected this inner battle of yours, something softening in his gaze. The hand holding your chin moved to your wrist, grabbing it loosely enough so that you could pull away if you wanted to, and he slowly pulled your hand up until it rested on his chest, palm flat against his left pec.

Once the shock of touching him subsided, you were confused as he watched you expectantly. You went to try to speak but were subsequently silenced by König as he shook his head, pressing your hand down harder. It was then you could finally feel beneath your fingertips his heartbeat, much too fast for the casual stance he had earlier.

He was just as nervous about this as you were.

He let go of your wrist once he saw you felt it, but you didn’t pull your hand away, quickly gaining confidence knowing you weren’t alone in your nerves. “I want this, König.” You were pleasantly surprised to find that your voice was steady, not even the tiniest bit hoarse. I’ve wanted this for a long time.

Pleased, you could also detect the tiniest bit of relief from him, uncertainty playing a part in his nervous behavior. But that was quickly washed away when his authoritative demeanor returned; you’re not sure why you expected anything else. In every room he walked into, he demanded respect, to be listened to. Followed. Obeyed. You just never thought that it carried into more intimate moments.

You certainly weren’t complaining. Not when you could feel arousal pool in your gut, a pleasant warmth that flowed through your entire body. Not when every word he spoke made you shiver, his accent thick, voice pitched lower. And now that your nerves had died down, all that was left was excitement, which nearly made you just as jumpy. As he brought his masked face close to yours, you swore your breathing stopped; it almost felt like the anticipation you’d feel before a kiss.

But his destination wasn’t your lips, although his eyes did flick down to them momentarily. No, he stopped before they could connect, mask and all. Resting his head against yours, which took a bit of bending on his part, you felt two warm hands begin to trail down your body, starting right at your collarbones.

You watched as his eyes trailed over your face, gauging your reaction. When he was met with nothing but desire and want, his touch grew more certain, yet he didn’t pick up the pace. His fingers continued to drag down your body until you wanted to push them down to where you wanted. Something told you that that wouldn’t go over well, but you had to admit you were curious to see what his reaction would be.

You chose to just shift in his grasp instead of trying to force his touch lower, hoping he’d get the message. You knew he did when you heard him chuckle, a sound that always made you weak in the knees, now especially. “Patience.”

You could detect the warning well enough, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to it. “Please, König.” You didn’t care if you were begging. All you could think about was how close he was to giving you what you wanted.

Another chuckle left the Austrian, but this one sounded more cruel. “You are going to have a long night.”

Before you could even think about his words, he was effortlessly sweeping you off your feet, hands having found their way to the back of your thighs. Insticinvly, your legs wrapped around his body, but you knew he didn’t need the extra help, and you also knew that he wouldn’t drop you. With a surprised laugh, you hung on as König carried you over to the bed, eyes never once leaving your face like he was enraptured by it.

Unfortunately, the walk to the bed was brief, and before you could get comfortable in his arms, he was depositing you onto the bed. So much for not dropping you. It didn’t hurt, no, more surprising than anything, the breath briefly getting knocked out of you. The cheaper bed groaned under the weight, rusty springs a godawful symphony of noises, but you paid them no mind.

Hungry eyes watched you from the foot of the bed as you moved up towards the headboard, back resting against it. Once you were settled, König stalked over to the side of the bed, his movements nothing but predatory. Yet oddly enough, you felt safe. You both trusted each other enough to watch over the other while out on the field and so you felt that same trust here. Deep down, you knew that if you were to tell him to stop, he would, no questions asked. Yet you knew you probably wouldn’t need him to.

But he didn’t sit down, rather moving to the nightstand beside you. Your dazed state quickly dissipated once he started rummaging inside of it, but you were too late to do anything. With burning cheeks, you watched as he pulled out a pink device, which looked comically small in his hands.

You wanted nothing more than to bury your face in your hands and pray for your demise, yet you were stuck in place once his attention returned to you. You just knew he had a shit-eating grin on his face, and if you weren’t so mortified about him finding the toy, then you would’ve made some comment to wipe it right off.

Finally, König sat beside you, the vibrator still in his hand. With his other, you felt his touch return to your calf, featherlight, and leisurely making its way to the waistband of your shorts. “You use this a lot?”

“König…” Your voice wasn’t as assertive as you’d have liked, coming out more as a breathy whine.

“Answer my question.” His hand stopped moving, stopping right at your knee. No matter how you shifted or squirmed, he didn’t move.

With a deep sigh, you tried to ignore the embarrassment you felt when you nodded your head. You then remembered his words from earlier. “Yes,” was all you said, but that seemed to be enough for him, as he continued his ascent with his fingers.

But his tormenting wasn’t done there, as after a few seconds you heard him speak again. “What do you think about?” This question came quieter than the first like he was sharing a piece of gossip, not asking you to reveal your deepest fantasies.

You.

The word was on the tip of your tongue, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to say them, to admit to him. How you’d dreamed of moments like this. How you’d imagined him touching you, fucking you, devouring you. So much information was on the verge of being spilled, and you were scared of it happening, too many what-ifs floating in your brain to keep track.

But any attempt of holding back your words disappeared when König’s hand retracted, and you found the words stuttering out of you, desperate to feel him again. “I think about you, König…” You nearly felt out of breath after, your chest heaving for air, your cheeks now on fire.

König, much to your surprise, didn’t seem taken aback by your words. Instead, you watched as his eyes darkened even more, which seemed like an impossible feat. “I thought as much,” his voice sounded more like a growl, and you fought the urge to press your thighs together. “And what do I do, when you think of me?”

Now that the cat was out of the bag, you felt less embarrassed about speaking. You were further encouraged when his hand settled on your thigh, pulling lightly at the hem of your shorts. “I… I’ve thought of you using toys,” you glanced at his other hand briefly, “your fingers. Your mouth.” The last one came out more like a whisper; he’d have to take his mask off in order for the last one to be true, and you both knew he wasn’t doing that.

By the time you had finished speaking, he had reached your waistband, fingers dipping beneath it to brush against your skin. He hummed like he was truly thinking deeply over your words. “In that order?” If it was meant to be teasing, you couldn’t tell.

Words died in your throat as you struggled to speak, your newfound confidence nonexistent. König, thankfully, took some pity on you, realizing that this was all a bit much. “Would you like me to take care of you?”

That you were able to respond to. “Please.”

An appreciative groan reverberated through his broad chest. “Sehr gut.” You weren’t certain what he was saying, but the infliction sounded like a praise, and your body responded as it would if it had been spoken in a language you knew.

You expected him to continue speaking, so imagine your surprise when in one strong tug, he tore your shorts off your body, before throwing them somewhere in the room. You heard an audible gasp from him when he saw you were completely bare underneath, completely exposed to him. You watched his hands flex from where they hung in the air, momentarily taken aback, his restraint pulled tight.

He recovered quickly, blue eyes obscured by black irises now staring at you. “No underwear?” It was a redundant question, yet he asked anyway, wanting you to admit to it. Sheepishly, you nodded, your reward being a low chuckle. “Gott, you are trying to kill me.”

That was the last thing he said before he was settling at the end of your bed, right where your feet sat. His unoccupied hand grabbed your ankle, pulling your legs apart so that he could settle between them. With both thighs resting on his shoulders, you could no longer close your legs, unless you wanted to suffocate the man between them. You doubt he would complain, though.

His face was inches from your center, and you could feel the heat radiating from him with each breath he took. His eyes had left your face, now drinking in the sight before him, and you could tell he was pleased with what he saw. Quite pleased, if the groan he let out told you anything.

“So wet already,” he murmured as if he was surprised. You had little time to feel any sort of embarrassment, before two wide fingers ran through your folds, collecting the arousal there. You watched, then, as he brought his fingers below his mask, and you were able to fill in the details as his eyes fell shut with a hum of appreciation.

Very much distracted, you’d momentarily forgotten about the device in his other hand until the unmistakable buzzing noise filled the air. Your breathing was labored as you waited for his next move, where he would touch you next. You, luckily, did not have to wait long to find out, as those two fingers returned, this time working to spread you open. His eyes finally shot up to yours, his desire evident, and there was an unspoken question in the gesture. More?

You would take all that he could give you, greedily. If he gave you scraps, you would take scraps with a thankful smile. If he gave you a goddamn meal, then you would savor every moment, every drop. With a shaky smile, you gave him a nod, not needing to use your words this time.

The first graze of the toy over your clit made you jump, eliciting an amused shake of König’s head. “Relax, Schatz.”

And you tried. Taking a deep breath, you went through the breathing exercises you were taught when you first enlisted. Either it was thinking about the breathing exercises, or the exercises themselves, but you found yourself relaxing a bit, your muscles not as wound up as they once were.

So when König once again pressed the vibrator against the bundle of nerves, you still jolted. Not out of shock, but because of the pleasure that action brought. And instead of pulling away like last time, he kept his hand in place, making you squirm.

Soft whines and gasps of air were heard from you, hands fisting the sheets beside you. You wanted to hold on to him, but you were worried that once you grabbed on, you wouldn’t want to let go. “König…” you moaned, trying to express just how good he was making you feel. Every nerve in your body tingled, that unmistakable tightness growing in your abdomen. You weren’t close, but you didn’t think it would take long with how worked up you’d been waiting for him.

The hand holding you open ascended, your back arching into his touch as he dragged his fingers over your stomach, your ribs, before encapsulating one of your breasts in a large, warm hand. “Du bist so schön,” he murmured, a glint of something in his eye. It quickly turned mischievous, though, when you just nodded along, his words meaning nothing to you. “Du hast keine Idee, was ich sage.”

When you neither confirmed nor denied his observation, he laughed, much to your confusion, but you were too caught up in your pleasure to care much. “Oh, Schatz.” It almost sounded patronizing, something that shouldn’t have gotten you as worked up as it did. Another plea of his name tore from your lips, the pressure in you building and building.

Glancing down between your legs, you were surprised to find his eyes already on you. A squeeze of his hand had you keening, König making a noise that almost seemed proud. “So responsive. Nur für mich.”

What could you do besides nod? Even if you could understand him, you doubted you’d be able to process his words. And besides, hearing him speak his native tongue was always a treat, so hearing him like this was melting you, another thing setting your body alight. Your thighs were beginning to shake, something that did not go unnoticed by the man between them.

“König… fuck, just a lil’ more…” You failed to see the plan he was formulating, your eyes screwed shut as pleasure overtook you. That tension was becoming unbearable now, and just on the verge of snapping. Your hips rocked and twisted, your fingers cramping with how hard you were gripping the sheets. You were on the edge, just teetering. All you needed was a little push, and-

The sound of silence was deafening as König turned the toy off, setting it on the bed beside you. Your eyes flew open, nowhere near expecting him to pull away just as you were about to cum. It would’ve been embarrassing, the frustrated noise you let out, but all you could think and feel was your waning orgasm. You went to try and finish yourself, but a strong hand caught your wrist before you could move.

“König…” you warned, pleaded. Like sand, you could feel your release escaping through your fingers. “Y-You said you would help me relax.”

“You are distracted, nein?”

It was true, your mind was far from the stresses of the day. But a new stress was building, one that was being caused by him. “König-”

“Lay back down.”

You hadn’t even realized you’d sat up, and with a sigh, you sunk back against the pillows, hoping he didn’t see the way your cheeks darkened at the way he commanded you. You could feel yourself continue to come down from that delicious high, body still strung tight like a string on a violin. König played you so well, that you doubted it would take long for you to reach that precipice again. But would he give you what you wanted, or continue to dangle it above your head, just out of reach? You both loved and hated the game he was playing, but your patience was bound to run out eventually.

He settled in between your legs again, both hands empty this time. A few minutes passed, König lazily tracing his fingers across your bare legs and stomach, truly letting the embers of your previous orgasm burn out.

After what felt like an eternity, he began to drag his touch inward, making you gasp lightly. Like he did before, you felt him pass his fingers through you. The stimulation was almost too much, but it was the best thing you’d ever felt, a soft whine leaving you. That whine turned into a moan when he pressed a digit into you, aided by your arousal.

He wasted no time in working his finger in and out of you, setting a slow yet intense pace. Your previous decision to not hold on to him quickly fell apart, desperately reaching down to him. There was a second of surprise before he gave you his other hand, your fingers immediately locking with his. It was a startling difference, the innocent gesture of handholding versus the way he was making you see stars with every crook of his fingers.

His fingers were wide, much wider than yours, so the stretch burned when he added a second. He gave you a moment to adjust before moving, murmuring soft words of praise. “Gutes Mädchen,” he purred. “Gott, look at you, taking me so well.” Each word was enunciated with a thrust of his fingers, pulling noises from you you didn’t even know were possible.

As amazing as his fingers felt, you need more. Wanted more. Glancing down at König, you gave him as wide eyes as you could, and he seemed to get the message. “You want more?” Upon your fervent nodding, he shook his head teasingly. “So greedy.”

For a moment, you were convinced that he wasn’t going to fulfill your request. That was until he pulled his hand away from yours, reaching for the base of his mask. Your heart damn near stopped when you realized what he was doing, and with a shocked gasp, you shut your eyes, unsure if he wanted you to see.

You felt him pause, the rustling of fabric ceasing, before his voice rang out. “Look at me.” For the first time since you’d met him, you’d heard his voice clearly, not muffled by his mask.

Cautiously, you opened your eyes, still partially convinced that this was a test of sorts. All of those worries disappeared when your eyes landed on him. His mask wasn’t fully off, not like you expected, and a part of you was relieved. You don’t think you were ready for that.

Instead, it was pulled up just past his mouth, revealing most of his lower face, and any image you’d created of him in your mind was immediately forgotten, replaced with the sight in front of you. He had a wider jaw, with a decent amount of stubble adorning his cheeks. His lips were full, the top smaller than the bottom, and pulled into a small smile that made your stomach erupt into butterflies. He was, without a doubt, one of the most handsome men you’d ever laid eyes on, and this was only a part of his face.

But what stuck out to you the most, and would stick out to anyone who saw him, was the large scar that cut upwards on the right side of his upper lip, disappearing under the mask as it continued. The rest of the skin had healed together, except for on his lip, where, similar to a cleft lip but smaller, there was a gap, exposing a sharp canine. It was like his lip was turned up in a constant sneer.

You had no idea how he got that scar, and knowing the job you both did, it was probably quite traumatic. But the scar, alongside the rest of him, had desire churning so strongly in your gut that you nearly felt ill. It felt almost too good to be true, yet here he was, in between your legs, staring at you like you were the best thing on this forsaken planet, his hips grinding against the bed as he pleasured you.

“Hallo, Schatz.” You were entranced by the way his lips moved as he spoke, and he noticed it, a cocky grin now on display. God, the effect that smirk had on you was immediate, his smugness immeasurable when he felt your body react on his fingers. “You know how to make a man feel good.”

You managed to roll your eyes, not wanting to bolster his ego that much, making König laugh in response. But his playful mood was quickly replaced by one of pure desire, moving forward until you could feel his warm breath hit your center. His fingers had resumed their motions, that tension once again building in your abdomen. It felt stronger this time like your body was punishing you for not allowing the tension to release last time.

Not once did his eyes break away from yours, not even as his tongue flicked out to taste you, and you could feel his smile, never once dropping. He did it again, this time nudging your over-sensitive clit, making your hips buck. Letting his mask fall on your body to keep it held up, his now free hand splayed across your lower abdomen, keeping you in place, unable to escape the onslaught of pleasure.

Even quicker than before, you found yourself careening toward that edge, your nails digging into König’s arm, likely leaving marks. His name replayed like a chant on your lips with each crook of his fingers, each flick of his tongue, every suck from his lips. You couldn’t see him any longer, your head thrown back against the pillows.

“König… please.” You almost didn’t want to tell him you were close, afraid of him taking your release away from you again. But you figured he didn’t need you to tell him to know, with the way your thighs shook and walls fluttered around his fingers. You felt him smirk again, a sense of dread washing over you at its implication. “Please, König… let me cum.”

Forcing your head back down, you watched as he considered your plea, and for a second, you thought you were in the clear. That was until he pulled his mouth away, his lower face glistening, that smirk still there, before the mask fell back down. His fingers pulled away next, groaning when he watched you clench around nothing.

Frustrated was nowhere close to how you felt, tears now prickling your eyes as yet another orgasm was withheld. The torture was delicious, yes, but you were going to lose it if you didn’t get to cum soon. You’d wanted this for so long, to fall apart under his ministrations, and you were tired of waiting. Your voice wavered as you whined his name, but there wasn’t anything either of you could do now, as you felt that almost high fade away again.

With a defeated sigh, you let your head hit the pillows again, your legs sliding off König’s shoulders. You didn’t get to relax long, though, before his accented voice hit your ears again, unfortunately muffled. “Roll over.”

Without trying to hide your displeasure, you complied, glaring at him as you turned. You hoped he couldn’t tell how excited you actually were, fighting back an eager smile. He chuckled from behind you as you settled on your hands and knees, trailing off when he took in the sight before him. “I will ignore that attitude. This time.”

As you thought over the implications of this time, you felt König stand, followed by the sound of rustling fabric, as well as the crinkle of plastic. Something stirred in you at the fact that he came prepared, meaning he wanted this as much as you did. You’re not sure why you still believed he didn’t, but the reassurance was nice, to say the least.

Glancing over your shoulder, you managed to catch a glimpse of him, the sight making you nearly snap your head back around. Nearly. He had shed his pants, his black shirt rising enough to reveal a pale, muscular abdomen, created from years of intense labor and exercise. He radiated power, and a part of you wondered if that translated into more intimate aspects like his authoritativeness had. Would he be rough with you? Or would he be more ginger, like his touch had been for most of the night; not gentle, but not on the verge of hurting?

You would take either way, as long as it was him doing it.

“It is rude to stare.”

His tone was teasing, yet it still pulled you out of your shameless ogling. Caught red-handed, an almost sheepish smile appeared on your face. “You can’t blame me when you look like that. You’re a sight, König.”

For the first time that night, König seemed at a loss for words, staring at you like you’d grown a second head. If his mask was still pulled up, you figured you would see his lips struggling to form words, and, if you were lucky, a blush creeping up his face. It was a beautiful image in your mind, one that made you smile harder.

Clearing his throat, König shook himself out of whatever daze he had been in, and you pocketed his weakness away for later. Checking you for any last-second hesitations, he let the rest of the clothing on his lower body fall away, effectively shifting the power back into his hands. And despite yourself, a small noise left you at the sight, further stroking his already massive ego.

As to be expected for someone of his size, he was large, and painfully hard, if the hiss he let out told you anything. He was proportional to his hand as he took himself in it, stroking himself a few times, but you knew you’d struggle to hold him in yours. Just like the rest of his body, he was pale, with an almost purple tip that leaked precum.

Turning your head back around before you lost your nerve, a few seconds passed before you felt the bed creak again, assumedly to put on the condom. One hand pressed between your shoulders, wordlessly pressing your face and chest into the bed. His other hand grabbed your hip, pulling your ass against him, another small noise leaving you when his cock pressed into you. You let him maneuver you as he wished, surprised with how much you were enjoying him taking the lead during this.

“Ready?” His voice sounded relaxed, but the fingers digging into your hips told a different story. Still, the sincerity of his gesture made your heart thrum happily.

“Yes.” You’d never been more ready for something.

A strangled moan tore from your lips as he pressed in, obscured by the mattresses your face was currently being pressed into. Tangling your fingers into the sheets around you, you could do nothing but take him as he sheathed his length into you, inch by inch. Time seemed to slow, your breathing ragged, when it wasn’t interrupted by noises of pleasure.

The pain wasn’t as bad as you initially thought it would be, and for a moment you were thankful that König had worked you up so much. But that tension returned again, König still not fully in you yet. A whimper of his name had him stilling, an almost painful-sounding breath leaving him as he steadied himself, using every ounce of restraint to keep going slowly.

The words tumbled out of you then, unable to stop yourself. “I-I can take it… please.”

“Scheiße.” The expletive was not unknown to you, nearly turning smug with the fact you made him lose control again. And just like before, he was quick to put you in your place, any comment dying on your lips when he bottomed out with a sharp thrust of his hips.

You swore you saw stars, unable to make any noise besides a soft oh. König, trusting that you were telling the truth, didn’t wait to give you time to adjust. He set a brutal pace immediately, hips snapping against yours with a slick noise. You could cum just from this alone, still so worked up, and König knew this.

The hands on your body shifted, wrapping around the front of your body and lifting you effortlessly until your back was pressed against his chest. He wasted no time tearing off your shirt, groping and toying with your breasts as he continued to thrust up into you. His voice was like gravel as he spoke, his covered mouth speaking right in your ear. “Du fühlst- Gott, mein Schatz.”

Even though your brain was hazed with lust, there was one thing that stuck out to you when he spoke. Never before had he added the word “mein” before calling you Schatz. You had no idea what it meant, but it certainly sounded like an English word you’d been dying to hear from his lips. Mine.

“Yours?” You knew you were probably connecting dots that didn’t exist, but the idea of being König’s was too appealing.

König stuttered in his movements, an absolutely sinful moan being pulled from him, a sound that nearly pushed you over that edge. “Smart girl,” he spoke while regaining his breath. “Cum for me, mein Mädchen.”

That was all you needed, reaching your release the hardest you’d ever had in your life, the relief you felt immeasurable. Your head threw back to his shoulder, and because your eyes were screwed shut you couldn’t see the way he stared at you with awe. Every muscle tensed and then released, causing you to go slack in his arms, your nerves buzzing with pleasure.

Your ears rang too loudly to hear him groan your name as he felt you cum, and a few more thrusts of his hips was all it took to reach his own end. The sensation of him spasming inside of you rode out your waves of pleasure until it became too much. König, thankfully, seemed to realize this, and he pulled out of you, then easing your limp body to the bed carefully.

Completely blissed out, you didn’t feel as König got off the bed, nor know how much time passed before he returned. All you knew was that suddenly the blanket was torn out from under you, before covering your bare body.

Even though every muscle in your body didn’t want to work, you forced yourself to sit upright and watch the large man, who was currently in the process of getting redressed. “You’re not staying?” You didn’t try to hide the obvious disappointment in your words.

König stilled at that, turning to face you slowly. “Do you want me to stay?”

“Of course.” The words came out so easily, so honestly, that you nearly startled yourself with your honesty.

Something like relief sagged his broad shoulders, and before long he was back beside your bed. You let him lay down first, as he did take up more space, before settling yourself in the crook of his arm. Well, it was more like you were half lying on top of him to keep from falling off the bed, but neither of you were complaining. König certainly wasn’t, his eyes crinkling in a poorly concealed smile.

A few moments passed in silence, simply savoring the afterglow and the feeling of being in each other’s arms. Then, “Are you relaxed now?”

You snorted at that, lifting your head to look at him, shaking your head lightly. Fondly. “I suppose I am,” you agreed. “Though I am gonna be sore tomorrow for… other reasons.”

It was König’s turn to laugh now, the sound lighter than you expected. “I hope you are not expecting me to apologize. You were the one who asked for it.” You merely shrugged your shoulders in response, knowing he was right, but not wanting to give him the satisfaction of verbally admitting it.

Every part of your body wanted to lay back down, but you had a different idea as you continued to observe König. He tracked every movement of your eyes, and you could see his brow furrow in confusion. Before he could say anything, though, you were speaking, so quietly you wondered if you had merely thought the words.

“Can I kiss you?”

And for the second time that night, König was at a loss, blinking at you like a deer in the headlights. But it seemed he’d already made up his mind, nodding lightly, the mask creasing with every movement of his head.

Letting the blanket fall off you, you were quick to straddle his abdomen, eliciting a gasp from the Austrian. Tentatively, you let your fingers reach for the hem of the mask, scanning his eyes for any hesitations. When you were met with none, you flashed him a gracious smile, before pulling the cloth up right to his nose, not going further than he had before.

His hands, which had fallen to his side, now ran up your thighs, before settling on your waist. Blue eyes danced across your face and your body, not able to decide which sight he liked better. You were quick to keep his attention on your mouth, though, as you planted one of your hands on his chest and leaned forward.

Taking your other hand, you let it trail up his neck before settling on his lower jaw, his stubble tickling your hand. He shuddered under your touch, lips parting in a soft gasp. Even with everything the two of you had done tonight, this felt the most intimate.

When you pressed your lips against his, you couldn’t help the smile that tugged yours when he made another audible noise. A part of you wondered how long it had been since he’d been kissed, been touched this softly. If he’d let you, you’d remedy that. Gladly.

You kept the kiss short, but it promised more to come. Setting the mask back down, you pressed one last peck to his covered lips, unable to help yourself, before laying your head on his chest, keeping any comment about his fast heartbeat to yourself. “I hope you know I’ll be getting my revenge,” you said instead, hoping he didn’t realize it was just another way of saying you wanted this again.

“I am looking forward to it, Schatz.”

Translations:

Schatz - treasure (term of endearment)

Sehr gut - very good

Gott - God

Du bist so schön - you are so beautiful

Du hast keine Idee, was ich sage - you have no idea what I am saying

Nur für mich - only for me

Nein - no

Gutes Mädchen - good girl

Scheiße - shit, fuck

Du fühlst- Gott, mein Schatz - you feel- God, my treasure

Mein Mädchen - my girl

#konig cod #konig x reader #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig x you #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig mw2 #könig x you

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miyakiwiii · 23 days ago

Text

◇DI KO KAYANG UMIBIG MULI!

Yurp i have filipino genes, (some german genes too but im more filipino) and i felt like writing this cuz why not? And also this song makes me turn in shambles

PAIRINGS: FILIPINO-FEM!READER X KARASU TABITO.

FLUFF? Idk what tags to add lol CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS? Might almost turn into a series,Long fic?

WORD COUNT:1,4k

You were a foreinger from a different country, that moved in japan when you were 7 years old, your mother got a job as a nurse in japan,osaka. Since she took nursing in the past.

resulting to both you and your mother living in japan by now.

You would just call it- japain since children YOUR age had been picking on you- you couldnt even understand some of them since you only knew how to speak english and ofc, your native language.

There was one particular kid at the same age as you- karasu tabito.

Both you had met when you were little kids, he was picked by the other children back in elementary, both you and him were called 'freaks' 'weirdo's' for being.. different from others.

Thats what you both were- and how you both became friends.

You both became friends because you were both different from the rest of them: weirdos, freaks, yeah. Mediocre as you call it too.

He would protect you- in exchange you would protect him back. He was a smart kid- you were too.

Both of you excelled in class, you were always second place, he was first. You both stayed by each others side since that day, like something locking your souls together- or even intertwining your hearts and pressing them together like you both were not meant to leave each other.

Your mom, his mom had always noticed you two being together- of course they were both glad that their children finally had a nice loving friend.

In middle school- you finally learned how to speak japanese, teaching karasu some tagalog, and filipino words too.

Both of you werent meant to be seperated. Well.. atleast you were.

You and him are both in highschool now, seniors and in third years.

Him- 18 you 18, well this is the day that he will regret.

"Hey tabito!" You ran to his direction where he stood- hair all gelled up, beauty mark visible on the right, his eyes shone like bright sapphires, swirling with emotions hidden behind, he was gorgeous.

You, on his view your beauty almost shining bright as the sun- the rays of light hit your face as it gleamed, your voice calling out his name made the insides of his stomach flutter- almost like theres butterflies inside his stomach from always seeing you, seeing you call out his name. Everything about you is what he loves.

He smirked he always does, blinking and looking at you as you panted and gasped for air, standing up and brushing your hands on your skirt.

"Hi [reader],why were ya' rushing? No need to." He says, holding the straps of his bag- putting it behind his back and holding it.. like something.

"Ah! I just thought i was late since my alarm didnt ring." Yeah relatable- but anyways, he chuckled, in result you chuckled, the strap of your bag sliding a little bit off your shoulder.

"Yer' bag." He touched the straps of your bag- touching your shoulder in the process. His touch, even if the clothing blocks the warmth of it, you could almost feel it through, it was nice, you said.

"Oh, uhm thanks." You smiled to him, oh how he loved seeing your smile, he wishes he can paste it into the depths of his brain to see it everyday.

"So, lets walk to school together?" You say. "Of course, we always do." Karasu responds back, both of you now stepping, walking to your school.

"Huh, yeah." You walked, the silence was so loud, akward emotions filled the both of you as you held your arm while walking.

"So uh, have ya' gotten any duo's or partner's in the chesmistry project?" Karau asked, looking at you as you both continued walking.

"Huh? I havent. How 'bout you?" You asked him back, the school gates was near as the sun shone on the metals of the gate.

"No i still dont have anyone partnerin' with me." He says, both you and karasu had arrived at your school- walking forward as the sun shone on the school gates.

The doors were nearby, as you both stood infront of it."Talk to ya' later?" He said, stopping his tracks, looking at you. Eyes filled with wonder hoping that you will respond to him.

"Yeah, talk to you later tabito." You respond as you smiled warmly again, smile counter number two. Atlas, you both entered the school doors, going to opposite hallways, some students we're still chattering- almost like bee's surrounding you.

Karasu- on the other hand. One of his teammates had put their arm in his shoulder, bickering about the next competitions about other schools- and how hes amazing as the captain of their youth team: bambi osaka.

Hiori on the other hand, of course, you knew him. Hes a second year, you both never got classes together due to you being older than him, but you shared a few thoughts, sometimes ate lunch with him and karasu, and also watched their practice in the field while sitting in the bleachers, you also cheered for the both of them in alot of the competitions that rival schools competed that competed with them- almost like you were a goodluck charm because everytime your in it, they win, and you stood out oh-so-clearly in the crowd.

He knew about you and karasu being long-term friends, hiori was almost your second bestfriend,telling him anything, gossiping even!

Time skip.

It was finally break time after the mind breaking- energy consuming subjects had ended.

You were walking around as you saw tabito patiently waiting for you along with hiori, both of them chatting under the tree the three of you guys sometimes talked, about strategies, even though you couldnt understand some parts about what they were talking about.

Karasu turned his head to your direction- almost like he has a sensor for you when you arrive, waving at you and signalling you with his hand to come over.

You rushed to walk over, bento in your hand,sitting on the warm grass beneath as you laid your bento on the grass, rays of light going through the gaps of the tree's as it hits your shoulder, One of them opens their mouth and says-

"What are ya' guys gonna do after class?" Hiori spoke, looking at the both of you, you were seated next to him as long as tabito was in the opposite direction facing you.

"Were going to do the chemistry project."

"Were goin' to do the chem project."

Both of you had said in unison, both of you giggled and hiori was just sweat-dropping besides you.

"Damn alright. Ya'll got really Connected alright." Hiori spoke once again.

"Of course silly, we've been connected ever-since we were both seven years old!" You replied warm-heartedly. Damn hiori must felt like a married couples adopted child with the way you two almost bonded, basically hes like a practice kid for the two of you except you both werent even in a relation ship.

"Yep, almost like we were super-glued to each-otha'." Karasu replied as he nudged your shoulder, both of you laughing once again.

All three of you chatted as you all ate, of course you had opened your bento.

The chattering was stopped once some of hiori, and karasu's teamates had called karasu.

"Yo' karasu! Let us borrow ya' for a sec!" Random guy A said.

"Yeah, also ya' too hiori! Coach might need us for today." Random guy B said. Wow what a suprise ruining the wholesome moment the three of you shared together. Huh.

Its strange at some point.

Both karasu and hiori got accepted into a football-program called 'blue lock.' You were happy for them, but at the same time you felt.. lonely.

No need to worry, its only for a few days, you were strong.

Karasu:

See you soon [name]. Hope you can wait for us both huh? 😉

Hiori:

Yep, agreed with karasu's words for the first time, cya soon name. :)

:Name

Dont make me wait for too long, hope you both can enjoy it! <3

Karasu and hiori reacted a [❤️]

That was their last chat to you, looking back at it made you smile warmly, you kept thinking about karasu, of course.

You watched their match and you see karasu perform, you were dazed by his skills even if he didnt score any goals, he still was really good in the U20 match, they obviously won, and karasu might've noticed you in the bleachers. You screamed and cheered so loud when they won.

Thats when you met karasu's newfound friend- otoya eita. He looked all ninja like, 'why does he have a green streak in his hair? Is it to hide all of his red flags?' Of course, you were correct.

"Yo' mind if i have your number?" Otoya had asked and karasu hit his head with his fist, not too hard, but not too soft.

"She's off limits bro" karasu said, you looked at him sweat dropping and flushed at the same time. Like what do you mean off limits?? Are we dating?

"She's your gf? My bad sorry karasu" otoya had said as karasu had widened his eyes and nudged him using his shoulder.

"Shes my childhood bestfriend, dont'cha say that!" Karasu says as you went more flushed, standing akwardly and fidgeting the toro keychain in your messenger bag.

"My bad, so can i still have her number." Oh how long is this gonna take.

Your head just went left and right, left right right left untill they finally stopped as one of their teamates called out to them.

"Also, sorry for makin' ya' watch, we have a 2-week break, we can spend some time together.. if we can." He says, scratching the back of his head.

You hugged him, he still smells like sweat- of course you were talking to him after the whole ass match.

"Sure, ill be waiting for you and hiori, even if it takes half of my life."

Well it certainly did take some of your life... just kidding.

Tabito had been invited to his blue locker-friends-team, idk antics. It was sad to say that hiori didnt come, but in exchange.. you did. (He forced you to do so.)

Some of his friends though you were his girlfriend- but you were certainly not.

It was in shibuya- a very busy part of japan, all of you guys had fun,especially when him and his friends got to the uh.. bowling ball place? You dont know what to call it.

One of their blue lockian friends, Barou as they call him.

They dueled the U-20, or former u-20 to a match in bowling, you just watched silently in one of the chairs, paying attention to all of his friends, and him having fun. You smiled warmly, his emotions and yours almost sharing.

After that match, and after all of this. It was midnight now, you were both probably exhausted, and riding a train together.

"Did ya' have fun?, sorry if they were turnin a lil bit freaky, thats just how it is." He asks, looking at you with a smile.

"It was both exhausting and fun.." you say, your head slowly laying on his shoulder. He turned a little bit flushed. Looking at you with his eyes, softening. Your lips look kissable right now.

TIME SKIP.

It was the day he was about to depart yet again- going to go back to blue lock. His eyes had met yours, you were smiling back at him.

"So, see you again? Both you and hiori?" You say, voice soft toned but low.

"Yeah, see ya' soon, goodbye [name]." He said, smiling back at you as his sapphire eyes stared at you, filled with longing and desire. He was walking, almost near to the doors of the bus.

"Wait, i forgot to tell ya' this."karasu had turned to your direction, he rushed to your direction and said this.

"Mahal na mahal kita sobra." Means 'i love and love you so much.'

Wait, when did he learn how to speak tagalog?

Seconds later- he pecked a kiss to your lips, flushed by all of what was happening, you touched your lips slowly as he ran to go to the bus.

Hiori who witnessed all of this was behind your back and just blinked, walking to the bus but waving and giving you a goodbye.

"Huh... i didnt even get to say it back." I look at the bus, the bus slowly starting to move.

Moments later- you had screamed back, instead of speaking in tagalog you spoke in japanese and yelled. "I LOVE YOU TOO TABITO!"

Guess I can't fall in love again.

Well except for him, i can always fall inlove again with this crow boy.

I was having seizures when doing rhus

@miyakiwiii WORK! DO NOT REPOST IN OTHER WEBSITES,TRANSLATE,ETC!

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skele-bunny · 1 month ago

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NOO THE POLL IS WRONG PLEASE POST THE ZEPHRIT PLEASEE :((!!!! PLEASE PLEASE

OH MY GOSH OKAY 😭 THERES LIKE.. SO MANY OF YOU IN MY INBOX RN. AND MY DMS. AND WKKWKSJ???!!! (Small tag for @sister-nyx , @everybodyshusband , @hypnoneghoul , and @artificialmoth I know y'all were also interested) is this impractical? Ye. But it's fun to me

College AU — Zephrit

Warning: It's professor/student in this but everyone is consenting adults

Cw: Internalized Homophobia, Pet Play, Master/Pet dynamic, Power Imbalance

Ifrit at college on a sports scholarship, but he's recommended to have extra credits to keep his GPA up, so he takes a German language class. Mr. Zephyr Luft, this cold, no nonsense professor who has a reputation for kicking people out even for little things. So take Ifrit who's now suddenly the bane of their existence.

Snarky comments, not doing any work always with the excuse of "This is only extra. I don't need this course." And he's gotten so many academic write ups, even to the point of Mr. Luft talking to the sports director. Nothing. So, they take it into their own hands. Requesting Ifrit to stay after class one day, and he obviously automatically assumes he'll be getting "the talk" of why it's important to do work and that he'll be getting another deduction.

Zephyr waits until the final student closes their door before beckoning Ifrit near, getting up and walking around with their cane as they do, indeed, babble about how Ifrit will be getting a deduction. But also...

"I can tell you were never properly raised, Gör. Such a nasty tongue you own."

"Whatever you say, old man."

There's a sigh before Ifrit can only gasp as a hard wack goes to his ass, turning around and seeing Zeph slowly put their cane back and stare.

"Did you just—?!"

"Well, obviously. Do you feel like speaking with manners yet?"

Ifrit just scoffs, "I'll have your job you fucking pervert."

A simple shrug. "Then I guess I need to make my worthwhile."

Now, Ifrit's strong. Works out a lot. He's taller than them! So he doesn't understand how this older, shorter person that relies on mobility aids had the ability to slam him back over the desk and keep him pinned while caning his ass more and more.

Finally had enough and letting Ifrit drop, face a dark red, fists clenched. Zephyr is just as calm as ever, not even paying attention to Ifrit anymore as they return to their desk and mumble that administration is in a different building upstairs. Ifrit sniffles a bit before quickly getting up, grabbing his bag, and high tailing it out of there.

He's so fucking humiliated! He's a grown ass man who could've overpowered them! His own damn professor!! Who do they think they are?! Slams out of the building and to his car, wincing as he sits down and stares at the admin building Zephyr mentioned. He has all reason to go there. To report what was done to him... But... That would mean they'd have to see. They'd have to know that Ifrit was too weak and too much of a pussy to defend himself from some old guy. Swallows his shame and instead, just goes home early. Looking at his bruised ass in the mirror, cane welts very obvious.

It's in the shower where he massages the pain, his dick slowly getting hard and he just chalks it up to the water. Nothing else. Nothing else is in his mind as he released down the shower drain. Don't realize the pattern as every time he has Mr. Luft's class the rest of the week how he'll massage and jerk off again. And again. The memories of being bent over and used and... And... And that cold stare that he starts imagining watching him, demanding perfect satisfaction as Ifrit masturbates in front of them. Then slowly changing to that cane dragging between his thighs and making him rut against it.

He feels sick the first time he imagines one of his one-night stands as that same old asshole.

Staring at himself in the mirror, turmoil bubbling. He's not gay. He's never been gay. He loves women and pussy and tits, and so much. This must be his nerves, is all. Some kinda trauma thing maybe? But even still, he notices how his attraction has slowly shifted. They must be the exception. Attracted to a single amab body, that's it. That's all it is. But he craves it. Wants to feel that helpless again. Wants to feel his body pinned down and where he's not the one in control...

And Mr. Luft can do that.

Packs so slowly one day after class, waits until it's just them when he approaches their desk. Zephyr humming and asking if Ifrit's reported them yet.

"No... I just, uh," There's shame and embarrassment Zephyr instantly picks up on. "Would you... Would you do that again? To me?"

"Spank you?"

"Yeah..."

They stare at each other before Zephyr just laughs a bit, worsening Ifrit's shame. But, "You poor thing. Just a stray dog looking for warmth, aren't you?"

He just nods, keeping his eyes down but can see Zephyr lean back in their chair. "No need to whine, hund. I can take you home with me if you'd like. Give you what you want."

Ifrit nods, and the rest is history.

Given directions to Zephyr's home after classes are finished, Ifrit knocking with hesitation. Brought in and led to the bathroom, listening to Zephyr make demands of how Ifrit is to shower, to attempt to finger himself for the first time, and lay on Zeph's bed nude. He does as he's told, albeit questioning himself more and more. This is some freaky shit he's getting into, isn't it?

But oh... Oh it's worth it. Explained how it's not Mr. Luft in the bedroom, only Zephyr or even Master. That he must say thank you to everything given to him, even punishments. He didn't realize how much he missed that cane against his ass now with hands as well once they start. Who gets his ass eaten for the first time and cums from it. Sucks cock and fingers Zeph for them to ride him. The degradation and that sharpness on their tongue like always. Sometimes speaking it in German, Ifrit can't understand, but he can feel the tone and just whines from it.

He stays over, tucked into Zephyr's arm as they come down from their bliss. More internalized hatred bubbling in his mind but it always seems to mute when he focuses on Zephyr's heartbeat. How he hates having to leave, but Zeph assures that all Ifrit has to do is ask and their home is open to stray dogs.

Ifrit takes that offer.

Finding himself on his knees just about every other day for them, listening to commands and being dominated. Taking on his role of a dog, desperate for that love and care in the form of heavy hands and instructions. Finally, a simple collar around his neck. So many new things he's exposed to and he loves each and every one of them. How German lessons follow into the home, Ifrit bent over and spanked with either a ruler or their cane for every thing he mispronounces.

Finds himself with no interest in the opposite gender as he's come to terms of what he's attracted to, just how much Zephyr has opened his mind and what he enjoys. Learning so much about himself in the process. Not only does his grade drastically improve, but so does his mental health. Finds more confidence, a new release as he doesn't have to think with Zephyr. Just has to be a good dog and listen to what he's told to do. What's he's trained to do.

Always lingering in their classroom, spending lunches with them and his free time. Their relationship developing so much they officially start dating privately, and to the point Ifrit moves in with them out of his dingy apartment. They keep everything quiet, out of respect for each other and also Zephyr's job. Everyone thinks they finally had a meet God moment, as they've become different people basically. Even Zeph watching some of Ifrit's games and practices, that cold stare no longer being of distain but craving.

Just a loyal dog as ever.

#the band ghost #ghost band #rabrev writing #nsfwriting rambles #ifrit ghoul #zephyr ghoul #zephrit #cw teacher/student #cw internalized homophobia #cw pet play #cw power imbalance

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verbalbridgesllc · 2 years ago

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https://verbalbridges.com/new-year-traditions-in-the-usa-mexico-germany/

New Year Traditions in the USA, Germany, and Mexico

#learning Spanish #English learning language #online learning Spanish #English learner #online learning language #online learning german #online language tutoring #english learning #german learning #speak spanish #spanish classes near me #english to german language #beginner in spanish #websites to learn spanish #english learning websites #learn language online #language learning websites #german online learning

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mitsukiwa · 10 months ago

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Do virgins taste better (tom kaulitz)

Classes had went by pretty fast and soon it was lunch. George had asked for me to eat lunch with him and his friends and I was in no position to say no. So I accepted, he had told me to meet him by the locker room close to the cafeteria building.

So that was where I was currently heading to right now.

My eyes searched through the crowd. In search for a shoulder lengthen brunette.

He pretty much stood out. It was easy to spot him once I neared the locker room building.

His face lit up once again when he noticed me walking towards him.

His smiles really was pretty. I smile back.

"Alright, let's get head to the cafeteria" he says.

He both begin to walk side by side up to the Lunch area. We entered the cafeteria, as I followed him to a table. There were two boys already sat in the seats.

One in particular caught my eye the second I laid eyes on him. He had black hair with blond streaks, the blonde contrasting on his inky black hair. His hairstyle was unlike what I have ever seen before. Though I still thought it looked pretty cool.

George takes a seat, patting the empty seat beside him for me to sit down.

I seat myself beside him, and look at both boys on the other side.

The boy beside the black haired guy had blonde short hair. He looked sweet, and kind.

I flashed them both a smile.

The black haired and blonde flashed me a smile of their own.

"Guys this is y/n she's new" George said. Motioning towards me.

"Hi, y/n I'm bill" bill says. That smile of his brighter then the sun itself.

"Hello, bill it's nice too meet you too" I say, delivering the same smile as his.

"And I'm gustav" the blonde boy said. He gives a grin.

"Nice to meet you both" I say

"Tells us more about yourself" bill says. He sounded eager to know.

I rub my forearm, there wasn't much interesting about me.

"Um, well my mom and I moved here from California" I start off saying.

Bill's mouth dropped, his beautiful brown eyes widening. They seemed oddly familiar as if I'd seen them before. But I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

"You mean you come from the United states!"

I nod my head once "Why did you move here to Germany?" Gustav asks.

"My mom got a great job offer here, she just couldn't turn it down, so she decided we live here" I say.

I did miss my old home, my old friends, everything.

"How do you know German?" George beside me asks.

I turn to face him. "My mom's German, she spoke to me in her language growing up"

George nods slowly in understanding.

"That's cool!" Bill exclaimed. I look over at him flashing him a smile.

"Oh, toms coming" George said.

I look toward the direction he was looking at.

I had wished I never did, because what, who I saw wasn't someone I wanted to see at all.

He walks towards us, with a girl next to him. His arm tossed over her shoulder as they stalked closer to our table.

He pulls open a chair and sits down on it, the girl accompanying him sits on his lap, facing him.

I glare at him from across the table.

It was that jerk from earlier today.

He places his hands on the girls waist. She leans close to his ear and whispers something to him.

I roll my eyes away from the pair. I cross my arms over my chest, deciding to ignore the elephant in the room.

Bill clears his throat, gaining "toms" attention.

He moves his head to the side to look at the black haired boy.

His eyes find mine for a moment. He looked away quickly before I can even react.

"What?" He asks the dark haired boy

"I'd appreciate it if your temporary thing leaves for a moment I need to talk to you about something" bill said.

Toms brows furrowed for a moment before his eyes caught mine once again.

"What about her, can she leave too" he motions towards me with his chin.

I glare at him. The corners of his lips tug up slightly. I knew he was just trying to upset me. Wanting to get under my skin, and not gunna lie it was working.

So I looked away from him and back at bill.

"Tom, would you please" bill said.

Tom sighs out through his nose. He looks right back at the girl in his lap, and mouths something to her. I couldn't hear anything from my spot.

She gets up from his lap and walks away.

"There, you happy" Tom said annoyed.

Bill flashes a smile at him, "thanks, bro"

Tom rolls his eyes. "Alright, so I wanted to tell you-"

"Shouldn't she leave too" Tom points at you with a finger.

"She could stay" George said

"But why? you made that girl leave what makes her any different"

"Tom, do you even know that "girls" name?" Bill asks.

Tom shrugs, swiping his tongue over his lip ring.

My eyes caught sight of the silver piercing. It was captivating and my attention was pulled away from it when bill continued talking.

"Her names Jaime, I bet you didn't even ask for her name" bill said rolling his eyes at the dreaded haired boy.

"I'm not interested in asking her name, that shits useless" Tom said, sliding a bit further down his chair. He was now in a slouched position.

Bill let's out a sigh, seeming to give up.

"Anyway, this is y/n, she's new at this school" gustav said, motioning towards you.

Tom looks back at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Hi, y/n, im "moron" he said, making his tone similar to a females voice.

I clench my jaw. He was mocking me.

The boys around us gave him a look.

They don't know I had already came across this jerk in the hallway.

"Hello, moron, nice too meet you" I try forcing a sweet tone.

Tom squints his eyes at me.

There was so much tension and I was sure the boys could sense it.

Bill let's out a nervous chuckle, his laugh lightening the mood.

"Now that you've introduced yourselves, Tom I need to tell you something" bill said.

"What is it?"

"We're going to be touring next month"

Toms jaw dropped.

I cocked my head to the side, I was genuinely confused.

George leans over to me, cupping his hand to the side of his mouth.

"We have a band" he whispered

I turn my body to look directly at him.

My eyes were wide open.

"A band- like" I stuttered over my words. I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Yea like a band band" George says.

He smiles down at me, his smile easing me.

"You should come over after school, we'll show you how we play" George suggested.

I hummed thinking about it, I would have to send a text to my mom about me not coming home till a little later.

"Sure" I flash him a smile. "Yessss" he draws out with excitement.

"Guys, she's coming over after school to watch us play" he said out loud.

The boys heads shot my direction each one with a different expression. Bill was obviously excited with his big bright smile. Gustav was a bit more neutral. And as for Tom, he had on a deep scowl.

" a private concert for some girl we don't even know" Tom said. With distaste in his tone.

I roll my eyes at him, just who did he think he was.

"There's nothing wrong with that" George says.

"Whatever, I'll see you guys after school" Tom got up from his seat, and retrieving from the table.

"He's for sure finding his next 'girl'." Bill said, in an annoyed tone.

I giggle at that.

George nudges my shoulder gaining my attention, "trust me, we play pretty good"

"I'll take your word" I smile up at him.

He nods at me.

Two more classes left and school would finally be over, I would be lying if I said I wasn't excited.

I was giddy with excitement the whole two periods.

And soon it was time for us to go home

#bill kaulitz #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz

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gubbles-owo · 3 months ago

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i adore seeing brazillian miku make the rounds, and by extension all the other regional variants that proudly showcase all these rich cultures. it's super sweet (while also demonstrating just how malleable miku is as an icon!) but i suppose it's also brought a long-standing personal frustration to the forefront of my mind again, namely... i don't really have a heritage or culture that i can call my own. be warned, stupid american white girl rambling under the cut lmfa o

so yeah im like. "white", or whatever. it's critical to acknowledge that "whiteness" is ultimately a contrived social construct meant to elevate those to a certain class above others in order to oppress and silence those who did not fit this construct. it's fucked. the definition has changed and morphed over time, blurring those included into some homogeneous mass devoid of any real culture, but its purpose remains much the same. so in order to break down this shitty concept of "whiteness", i break down my roots into components, right? a more detailed, nuanced set of backgrounds and traditions that all define me as a unique being, yeah? it just kind of... doesn't work in my case. my own heritage is.... murky. my father's side of the family reportedly includes a mix of things— welsh, german, fuckin english— but all of those were rattled off once by my father in a tone bereft of confidence, pausing for long periods between each as he struggled to recollect any of the details. so very broadly some sort of "western europe" deal, but not much specific beyond that. i cannot recall any particular traditions or anything from his side of the family that were drawn from these various cultures. here's the real kicker: my mother? adopted. legally could not dig up who her biological parents were until legislation allowed it... after their passing. for the longest time we had zero fucking clue where she really came from, the circumstances of her birth and subsequent adoption, all of that. the non-biological maternal grandparents i grew up with at least had their own strong ties; my grandfather immigrated from france after WW2, and my grandmother and her family from poland around much the same time. they spoke their respective native languages alongside near-flawless english, and god, during large family gatherings around christmas and whatnot i ate the best goddamn perogies i probably will have ever had in my life. but see, that's the thing... that's the only time i ever really had those. or had all that much cultural interaction, really, were confined to those transient blips of holidays and events. it was all with extended family that i barely knew because i only ever got to see them once or twice a year. somehow they all knew my name, but i never knew theirs. it felt so... distant. like i was observing a warm and loving family behind a thick wall of glass. it's not like they ostracized me or anything, i just. felt so hopelessly out of the loop. my mother never learned of her true background until very recently. lithuanian, as it turns out. at least for her mother, no clue where her father was from. so in a way, lithuanian is the single one hereditary thing i can point to and say "yeah, i guess that is technically me," but it's not like i grew up around it. i never met my biological maternal grandparents, or Anyone biologically on that side. i know nothing about the culture or the language or their traditions. perhaps if i had grown up with some of that it would've felt more core to my being, but learning so late after the fact feels... almost pointless? like what am i supposed to draw from this?? -------- An idea introduced to me at one point was the idea of region as culture. but augh. oouuggghhh we are opening a nasty can of worms here. (thanks tumblr for nuking this next paragraph for no fucking reason, so u get a screenshot, sry):

algonquian. quinnipiac. pequot. mohegan. connecticut. those sure ain't names carried over from england unto unclaimed soil that's for fucking sure. thanks the horrific methods of colonialism, the place i grew up and hold dear to my heart is, ultimately, built on tainted soil. how closely can i really hold onto any of that when it is built up on the very names of those that were eradicated?? god it is all just so fucked. yeah, i know, fuckin, "privileged white girl whining" here. and you'd be correct. i'm not holding the short end of the stick here, and it's necessary to acknowledge that. sure, i can stake claim to "gay" and "transgender" and "chronically ill"— but my heritage, and the ground on which i've lived all my life, is absolutely not one of them. what our dumpsterfire of a country did to the indigenous people that once thrived here is just... absolutely fucking horrific. ------- to be clear, i don't think there's anything inherently wrong with mixing cultures. like i'm not really on about some """purity""" shit where i have to have One Single Background; i'd say it's probably good and healthy to have different things to draw from! but i dunno, there's a point for me at which it all feels so fractured that it's impossible to derive any sort of identity from it all. where do i come from? what am i?? and at the end of it all the only really thing i can say for myself is.... "white". and i fucking hate that. it feels as if trying to further adopt traditions of any of these aforementioned cultures feels like some sick and twisted form of cultural appropriation. it feels wrong. it's theft. to tie it back to where this post began, how would i design a fuckin miku to represent where i'm from? and i just... don't have an answer. i have nothing. i remember a poll going around here on tumblr that was like "which of these languages would you want to learn?" and while i considered picking smth and rbing it i just could not pick one that didn't somehow feel wrong. the closest from that list i could answer was like... danish. why? not because i have any ties to denmark. but because there is a single prog metal band from denmark that is incredibly important to me. but they don't even sing in danish!! all of their lyrics are in english!! i don't even know what the language sounds like!! in fact i keep mixing it up with dutch!! fucking hell my uncultured ass needs to learn a Lot of things. i just wish i had roots that i could be proud of, rather than confounded by and ashamed of.

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quilloftheages · 2 months ago

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Chapter 1: A Night in Vienna - Hans Landa x OC (1st Person)

Premise

Set in the Inglourious Basterds universe, Elizabeth Acton, the daughter of an Oxford diplomat, is studying history at the University of Vienna in the 1920s. After an unexpected encounter with the enigmatic detective Hans Landa, their lives intertwine in a passionate romance. Despite a loving marriage and idyllic life together, Elizabeth's world is shattered when Hans mysteriously disappears, leaving only a note. Heartbroken and alone, she embarks on a journey to Paris to rebuild her life and confront the haunting question: why did Hans leave? And will she ever see him again?

Story:

Chapter 1

Vienna, in the late 1920’s, had a certain magic to it. It was a city of art, music, and intellect, where the streets echoed with the footsteps of philosophers and dreamers. I had arrived here from Oxford, together with my family. My father’s career as a diplomat meant he was stationed in the city, and though Vienna was a world away from the rolling green hills of England, I found myself captivated by its allure. The university of Vienna was renowned for its history program, and studying here seemed the perfect way to carve out my future.

But if I’m honest, I was just drawn to the idea of escape. Oxford, for all its charm, had always felt like a cage. My father’s expectations, the stifling formality of our lives – it all felt so scripted. Vienna, on the other hand, promised something different. It was a city alive with possibilities, and I was determined to take advantage of every one.

In the evenings, after long days of lectures, I’d attend French lessons with my friends, Elise and Margot. The lessons were my ticket to the next dream: Paris. I’d always imagined myself walking the boulevards, teaching history at a lycée, living among the poets and artist. It was a romantic vision, perhaps, but at eighteen, I had no reasons not to dream big.

One night, after our French class, we decided to stop at a bar near the city center. It was a cozy little place, dimly lit with a warm glow from the gas lamps and the gentle hum of conversation in the air. The scent of tobacco smoke mingled with the sharp aroma of schnapps and beer, and the clinking of glasses felt like the pulse of the room. We took a seat in a corner, practicing our French while laughing at Elise’s attempts to order wine In the language.

It was then that I saw him for the first time.

He stood near the bar, dressed in a dark, tailored coat, his posture straight and confident. There was something striking about him – sharp cheekbones, piercing eyes that seemed to take in everything around him without giving anything away. His gaze moved across the room and paused on us, or more specifically, on me.

I tried not to look back, but curiosity got the better of me. our eyes met, and a flicker of smile played at the corner of his mouth. Something about it unsettled me, though I couldn’t quite put a finger on why. Still, I felt drawn to him.

Elise noticed my starring. “He’s a handsome one. Though I must say perhaps a little too old for you.” She teased. Margot noticed what we were talking about and chuckled. “Good for you, Liz. He’s handsome and older. Every woman’s dream” she teased. I chuckled at both of them. Margot was the flirt of the group. Every man wanted her, and every woman wanted to be her.

“Not interested,” I lied as I took a sip of my glass of wine, trying to escape the conversation. Elise sent me a small smile while Margot just chuckled, “If you say so,” she teased back. Our conversation flowed until suddenly I noticed a presence standing by our table. I looked up and spotted the man from before. Up close he didn’t seem tall, but he had a commanding presence.

“Good evening, ladies,” he said in flawless German, tipping his hat politely. My German was rudimentary, but I caught enough to understand his greeting. His voice was smooth, carrying an air of authority. “May I join you?”

Elise glanced at me a bit unsure. But Margot, always the bold one, nodded. “Of course,” she replied.

He pulled out a chair, sitting down with ease, his attention now fully on me. “Hans Landa,” he introduced himself, extending his hand.

I shook it, trying to suppress the shutter of nerves. “Elizabeth Acton,” I replied in English, my German too weak for conversation.

“You’re not from here,” he said, switching effortlessly to English. It was more of a statement than a question.

“No,” I smiled, a little surprised at his fluency. “Oxford, originally. My father is a diplomat, stationed here for now. I’m studying at the university.”

“Ah, a student of history in the city of history and culture.” His smile widened, though there was sometime about it that remained enigmatic, unreadable.

“How did you know I studied history?” I asked baffled, not having told him that. He sent me a wolf-like smile. “Intuition,” he replied, making all of his chuckle.

“What brings you to Vienna? Aside from your father’s work?” he asked.

“I wanted to study here. It seemed… different. And I’m learning French. We all are, actually.” I paused, feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze. “I’d like to go to Paris someday.”

“Paris is beautiful,” he said, leaning back slightly. “But Vienna has its own charm. You may find it hard to leave once you lived here long enough.”

Our conversation drifted into safer topics – Vienna, my studies, the little things about the city that charmed me. Hans listened attentively, nodding at all the right moments, his dark eyes never leaving mine. There was something magnetic about him. He was older, more worldly, but that only made him more intriguing.

As the evening wore on, I found myself relaxing in his presence. He had a way making you feel like you were the only person in the room, as if your words mattered more than anyone else’s. And yet, there was something guarded about him, something he held back.

I was drawn to that mystery. ______________________________________________________________

It had only been a few days since that night at the bar, but Hans Landa had already lodged himself in my thoughts. There was something about his presence that lingered, like a faint scent you couldn’t quite place but couldn’t forget. His attention was exhilarating.

After another evening of French lessons, my friends and I decided to take a different route home. The bustling square near St. Stephen’s Cathedral was vibrant with life – street vendors packing up for the night, the smell of roasted chestnuts in the air, and couples hurrying off to their favourite cafés. And then, as we turned the corner, I saw him.

Hans stood leaning casually against a lamppost, his hat tipped slightly forward, watching the world pass by. His eyes flicked toward me, and I felt my heart skip.

“Good evening, Miss Acton,” he greeted me with a slow smile, ignoring my friend, focusing solely on me.

I was momentarily stunned that he remembered my name. “Mr. Landa,” I replied, hoping my voice sounded steadier than I felt.

“Vienna is small, after all,” he said, his English accented but fluent. “We seem to be crossing paths again.”

He gestured toward the street. “May I walk with you? Unless, of course, I’m interrupting.” He glanced briefly at Elise and Margot, but it was clear he was only asking out for politeness.

I hesitated, glancing at my friends. Margot just smirked, while Elise gave me a knowing look and whispered. “Go ahead. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

And just like that, I found myself walking with Hans through the twilight streets of Vienna, the atmosphere between us buzzing with curiosity. We talked – well, mostly he asked questions, and I answered. I found myself telling him more about my studies, about Oxford, my father’s work, my childhood. He listened with an intensity that made me feel seen.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said as we neared my street. “How are the French lessons going?”

I smiled sheepishly. “I understand much more than I can speak. My accent is… rather terrible.”

He chuckled, and the sound warmed me. “Perhaps I could help.”

I looked up at him and smiled. “I would like that very much.”

The next week, Hans appeared outside the university as I was leaving my class. His presence was becoming less of a surprise and more of an expectation – one I wasn’t sure how to feel about, yet undeniably looked forward to.

“Miss Acton,” he greeted, falling into step beside me. “I’ve been thinking about your French. If you’d like, I could assist with your lessons.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You speak French?”

“Fluently,” he said, with a touch of pride. “After all, I’ve spent some time in France during my travels for work.”

I was hesitant at first. Hans was a detective, a man with a mysterious aura, and this offer felt oddly personal. But I agreed.

And so, our meetings took on a new routine. We would meet after my French lessons, and Hans would quiz me, correcting my pronunciation with gentle patience. It was strange – he was often so sharp and perceptive, but with me, he was careful, as though he didn’t want to rush anything.

One evening, after correcting my imperfect “R” sound for what felt like the hundredth time, he looked at me with a teasing smile. “If you wish to speak with Parisians, you must soften your tongue. Let the language move through you like music.”

His voice was so close, his breath warm against the evening air. I tried to phrase again, and he nodded approvingly, his smile lingering just a bit longer than usual.

A few weeks later, after one of our informal lessons, we stood on the street corner, neither of us quite ready to say goodbye.

Hans shifted, his eyes narrowing in thought before he spoke. “Elizabeth,” he began, using my first name for the first time, the sound of it unexpected and somehow intimate. “I’d like to take you out. Properly.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “You mean… as in a date?”

His lips quirked into a half-smile. “Yes, a date. Tomorrow evening? There’s a small café near the Danube. Quiet, warm…I think you’d like it.”

I hesitated for only a moment before nodding, with a smile. “I’d like that.” He smiled charmingly back which made my heart flutter. ______________________________________________________________

The café Hans had chosen was quaint, tucked away from the busy streets of Vienna. It had wooden tables, candlelight flickering in the soft breeze, and a view of the river that was simply enchanting. We sat by the window, the city reflecting off the water in soft hues of gold and blue.

Hans seemed more relaxed than usual, the guarded air he often wore like amor fading in the candlelight. We talked about everything and nothing. I told him about my life in Oxford, about my younger brother, James, who was still in school. In return, he shared snippets of his life – he’d grown up here in Austria, in the Alps to be precise. He had travelled widely for his work, but seemed to evade anything too personal.

As the evening drew on, there was a brief silence. Hans reached across the table, gently placing his hand over mine.

“Elizabeth,” he said, his voice lower, more serious. “I enjoy this. Being with you. I… don’t often feel this way.”

I felt my heart quicken. “Neither do I.”

We walked along the Danube afterward, the stars reflecting off the water. When we stopped by the river’s edge, Hans turned to face me fully, his eyes dark and unreadable. For a moment, he simply looked at me, his gaze intense, as if weighing some unspoken decision.

Then, without a word, he leaned down and kissed me, his lips warm and soft against mine.

The kiss was gentle, tentative, as though he was testing the waters. His hand came up to cradle my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across my skin. I responded instinctively, letting my eyes closed as I melted into the warmth of his touch. The city seemed to blur around us, and for that brief moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world.

When we finally pulled away, the air between us was thick with unspoken emotions. I looked up at him, trying to gauge what he was thinking, but Hans, ever the enigma, simply smiled softly and took my hand, guiding me away from the river. ______________________________________________________________

The weeks that followed were filled with long walks, secret glances, and quiet conversations. Hans was unlike any man I had ever known – intelligent, mysterious, and yet gentle with me in ways I never expected. He was thoughtful, bringing me books from his personal collection, surprising me with small gifts like pressed flowers or an ink bottle from Paris, knowing I dreamt of going there.

Our time together felt stolen, as if we were living in a world apart from everything else. We would meet in the afternoons after my classes, sit in a café or stroll through the gardens. There was always a tension beneath the surface, something deepening between us that neither of us could ignore.

It was late one evening after dinner, and we were sitting in a quiet park beneath the glow of the streetlamps. Hans had been quieter than usual, his mood more intense, his eyes following me with a kind of hunger. I felt it too – the pull between us, the unspoken desire.

We talked, but it was the only surface-level, both of us skirting around what we were really feeling. Finally, as the conversation died down, Hans turned to me, his expression unreadable.

“I’ve been holding back, Fräulein,” he admitted, his voice low and raw. “But I don’t think I can anymore.”

Before I could respond, he kissed me again, but this time there was nothing tentative about it. His lips pressed harder, his hands pulling me close, and I felt the full force of what had been simmering between us. I returned the kiss with equal intensity, my arms wrapping around his neck as the world spun around us.

When we finally broke apart breathless, the air between us had changed. We didn’t speak, but there was no need. We both knew that things had shifted. I smiled up at him, and he smiled back. And in that moment, he seemed to me to be the most beautiful and charming man, I had ever met. ______________________________________________________________

It didn’t take long after that before Hans suggested to meet my family. My parents were cautious, particularly my father. He was sceptical of Hans, though polite.

Dinner with my parents was a formal affair, and Hans, to his credit, handled it well. He charmed my mother with his knowledge of art, and even managed to get a laugh out of my younger brother, James, who was typical shy around strangers. My father, however, remained distant, his questions sharp, probing Hans’ background and intentions.

After the meal, when Hans and my father retreated to the study for a private conversation, I was left with a knot of anxiety. My father was protective, and though he rarely interfered with my life, I could sense his concerns.

When they finally emerged, Hans looked calm, though my father’s expression remained unreadable. Still, when he shook Hans’ hand, there was a sense of grudging respect.

I followed him to the door, and while I really wanted to kiss him, I couldn’t with my parents lingering close by. He smiled at me and winked as he left, making me chuckle.

That night as I went to bed, I had a smile on my face and dreamed of Hans.

We continued like this for months. He would help my study, take me on walks, to see museums and art galleries. He had come over a couple of more times to dine with my family, and in time my father seemed to like him more and more.

Even after all of this it still took me by complete surprise. I came home one evening after class, expecting the house to be quiet. Instead, I found Hans sitting in the Parlor, his hat resting on the table beside him, his coat neatly folded over the chair. My heart raced in surprise.

“Hans? What are you doing here?” I asked, stepping into the room, confusion clear on my face.

He stood, walking over to me with a serious expression. “I’ve just spoken with your father.”

My stomach flipped. “About what?” I asked in concern.

Hans took my hands in his, his grip firm but gentle. His eyes locked onto mine, and for the first time since we’d met, I saw something like uncertainty in his gaze.

“My liebe, Elizabeth,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve asked your father for his blessing to marry you.”

The air seemed to leave the room, and I stared at him, trying to process what he had just said.

“I love you,” he continued, his hands tightening slightly around mine. “And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you’ll have me.”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and all I could do was nod.

Hans smiled then, a rare, genuine smile that made my heart soar. He pulled me into his arms, and as he held me close, I whispered, “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

We kissed again, and this time, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty - just the promise of a future together.

Just a few short months later, I graduated from the University of Vienna. Hans was there, sitting in the audience with that same proud smile that made my heart flutter. The diploma in my hands felt like a culmination of years of hard work, a symbol of the life I had dreamed of building. But the moment I walked across the stage, my eyes found Hans, and I realised in that moment that the future was no longer just mine – it was ours.

Our wedding followed soon after. It was a small, intimate ceremony in a charming Viennese church, attended by my family and friends, and some of Hans’ friends. My mother fussed over every detail, while my father walked me down the aisle, his expression soft with emotion. Hans waited at the altar, looking more handsome than I’d ever seen him, his dark eyes flowing with affection and promise.

The ceremony was simple but perfect. The moment we kissed as husband and wife, I felt a swell of love so strong that it left me breathless. I knew my life had changed forever. ______________________________________________________________

After the wedding, I moved into Hans’ apartment – a beautiful, sunlit space in the heart of Vienna. The rooms were filled with the warm, earthy scent of wood and leather, and large windows overlooked the bustling streets below. It was smaller than my family’s home, but it felt infinitely cozier. We spent our first days as newlyweds either in bed or arranging the apartment to make it our own, combining our lives piece by piece.

Life settled into a peaceful rhythm. I found work as a teacher at a local girls’ school, a position that fulfilled me more than I could have imagined. The students were eager to learn, and I found myself pouring my heart into every lesson.

Hans’ work as a detective kept him busy, but when he was home, we filled our time with quiet dinners, long walks through Vienna’s parks, and cozy nights reading together by the fire. He would often surprise me with flowers or a new book, and I loved the small ways we cared for each other. We were happy – truly, blissfully happy.

A year or so into the marriage, my father received word that his posting in Vienna was coming to an end. My parents were being re-stationed back to England, and though I knew this day would come, it still felt like shock.

The evening before their departure, my family gathered for a final dinner at our favourite restaurant. The air was thick with emotion – my mother trying to hold back tears, my father quieter than usual, and James, now taller and more mature, struggling to say goodbye.

“I’m proud of you,” my father said, hugging me tightly. “And I know you’ve made the right choice.”

I watched them leave the next morning, waving until their car disappeared from view, tears streaming down my face. Vienna felt emptier without them, but I still had Hans. And that was enough. ______________________________________________________________

Hans I had tried to start a family, but as the years went by, our hopes began to fade. Each month brought fresh disappointment, and I started to fear that the fault lay with me. Doctors confirmed my worst fears – something about my body, something I couldn’t fix, made it difficult, perhaps impossible, for me to conceive.

I wept often during that time, feeling a deep sense of failure. Hans, ever gentle and patient, would hold me, his hands stroking my hair as I sobbed into his chest.

“We’ll be fine,” he whispered, though I could hear the sadness in his voice. “We heave each other, my darling Elizabeth. That’s all I need.”

He never blamed me, not once. But I couldn’t help but feel like I had let him down.

To lift our spirits, Hans surprised me with a trip to Paris – the city I had always dreamed of visiting. We arrived in spring, the city blooming with life and colour. The air was warm, the streets lively with music and laughter. Paris was everything I had imagined it would be – romantic, vibrant, and a full of history.

We spent our days strolling along the Seine, visiting art galleries and historical landmarks. Hans took me to a charming little café, the same one we had spoken about on one of our first dates, and we sat for hours drinking wine and watching the world go by.

One evening, as we stood on a bridge overlooking the river, the lights of the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the distance, Hans pulled me close. “I promised you Paris,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “And here we are.”

It was a perfect moment. I felt as though all my dreams had come true, even if the path was different that I’d imagined.

Years passed in a contended blur. We had settled into a comfortable life in Vienna, one filled with love, even if it wasn’t the life I had originally planned. I was happy teaching, and Hans was content in his work, though he often spoke of darker times looming in the political sphere.

One day, I came home from work, expecting to find Hans waiting for me, as usual. Instead, the house was eerily quiet. On the dining table, there was a single note, written in his familiar, neat script.

I’ve been called away on urgent business. Fear not, I will return soon. Trust me. I love you, mein liebe, Elizabeth.

I stared at the note, my heart pounding in my chest. Hans had never left like this before. His work as a detective sometimes required long hours, but he had always kept me informed. Now, he had disappeared with only a cryptic message.

As I ate my supper I could not shake of the feeling of loneliness. I spent the rest of the evening reading but found myself often looking at Hans’ chair and felt sad. As I went to bed that night, I wore one of Hans’ shirts in hope that it would quench my longing for him, but it did the exact opposite. I only found myself missing him more. ______________________________________________________________

The days without Hans turned into weeks, and those weeks into months. At first, I tried to carry on as if nothing had changed. I went to the school, taught my students, and returned home to an empty apartment. I pretended I wasn’t watching the clock, that I wasn’t waiting for the sound of his footsteps on the stairwell or the creak of the front door.

But the silence grew unbearable.

His note lay where I had left it, on the mantle above the fireplace, the ink faded but still legible. I must have read it a thousand times, hoping that somehow, if I stared hard enough, the words would change, or that they would reveal some hidden meaning. But there was nothing. Just the same cryptic message, and the same growing fear gnawing at my insides.

Where had he gone? Why had he not told me? And – worst of all – was he ever coming back?

I had tried to remain strong, but Vienna no longer felt like the vibrant city I had fallen in love with. Every corner of the apartment whispered of our life together – the quiet breakfasts by the window, the evening spent reading by the fire, and the late nights when Hans would pull me close and hold me as if I was the most precious thing in the world. Without him, those memories were like shadows, haunting me with their absence.

It wasn’t just his disappearance that hurt. It was the not knowing. Hans had always been so careful with his words, so precise, and yet this time, he had left me with nothing but uncertainty. His work as a detective had always involved secrets, but this felt different. This felt personal.

One evening, I visited his office, my hope dwindling with every passing day. His colleagues gave me nothing but blank stares, polite refusals, and vague promises that they’d look into it. But they didn’t seem to care. Hans was just another name on a list of officers, one who had apparently gone off on some undisclosed mission. I was his wife, yet it seemed as though I knew the least of all.

Trust me.

How was I supposed to trust him when he had left me like this? ______________________________________________________________

I began to write to him. At first, it was just a few words on paper, trying to make sense of the chaos in my mind. But as the weeks went by, the letters grew longer, filled with everything I couldn’t say aloud. I told him about the school, about my students, and how they were thriving in their history lessons. I wrote about Vienna, the city we had both loved so much, and hot it now seemed to reflect the emptiness inside me.

I even wrote about my dreams – the ones we had shared, the life we had planned. I told him how much I wanted to see him, to hold him, to hear his voice again. How I missed the warmth of his touch, the way his eyes would soften when he looked at me.

But there was no address to send the letters to. no place where I could reach him. So they remained in a drawer, growing in number, waiting for the say when I might have the chance to give them to him.

After months of waiting in vain, something inside me snapped. It wasn’t an act of anger or frustration, but rather a quiet, aching realisation that I could no longer stay here, trapped in a life that had once been filled with love and now felt like a prison.

I began to pack my things, carefully folding away the clothes and trinkets that had once made up our home. The books we had collected together, the small souvenirs from our trips around the city – everything seemed to carry the weight of what had been lost. I left the ring Hans had given me on the bedside table, the one reminder of the love we had shared, but I couldn’t bear to wear it anymore.

My final goodbyes were said to the few friends I had made, those who had watched me as I slowly crumbled under the weight of Hans’ absence. They offered me sympathy, but no one had any real answers. Vienna had become too painful for me to stay.

Paris had always been my dream, and now, in the absence of everything, it seemed like the only place I could go.

I booked my passage on the next train to France, leaving behind the life I had built, the one I had hoped to share with Hans. The city I had once loved felt foreign to me now, its streets empty without him by my side. As the train pulled out of the station, I looked back one last time at the skyline of Vienna, the domes and spires that had been the backdrop to my happiest moments.

But I knew there was nothing left for me here. Not anymore. ______________________________________________________________

Paris was everything I had imagined it to be – the cut of lights, of romance, and art. But it was also a city of ghosts, filled with reminders of the life I had once dreamed of having with Hans. Every corner café, every bridge across the Seine, every street vendor selling flowrrs – all of it reminded me of the promises we had made to each other, the life we were supposed to build together.

But Paris was also where I began to heal.

I found a small apartment near Montmartre, not far from the artists and musicians who brought the street to life with their creativity. It was nothing like the apartment Hans and I had shared in Vienna, but it was mine. A space where I could start over.

Teaching had always been my passion, and I found work at a local school. The children here were different – more worldly, more curious. They asked questions about the world beyond France, and I found myself telling them stories of Vienna, of the history I had studied so passionately. In a way, it felt like I was teaching them about the life I had lost.

Days turned into weeks, and slowly, I began to find some measure of peace. The ache of Hans’ absence never truly left, but it become more bearable with time. I still thought of him often – wondering where he was, whether he was safe, and if he ever thought of me. But I no longer let those thoughts consume me.

Paris became my sanctuary. It wasn’t the life I had planned, but it was a life, nonetheless. And for the first time in months, I felt like I could breathe again.

I still had the letters, tucked away in a small box at the back of my closet. I hadn’t written to him in a long time, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away. They were a record of my grief, my longing, my hope.

Sometimes, late at night, I would open the box and read through them, imagining what it would be like to see Hans again. I wondered if he would still recognise the woman I had become – the one who had been broken by his absence but had somehow found strength to go on.

Perhaps one day I would find the courage to let him go entirely. But for now, I held on to the memories, the love we had shared, and the hope that somewhere, Hans was thinking of me too.

I wasn’t sure if I would ever hear from him again. But I had learned to live with the uncertainty. After all, life in Paris had given me something precious – myself.

Everything was getting better – until the war began.

#Hans Landa #inglorious basterds #fanfiction #Hans Landa x OC #creative writing #christoph waltz

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