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Literature Text
~Towel Kisses~
Francis watched as you carefully dabbed your wet lips against your bath towel and wiped away the stray droplets from your red lips. Normally, you wouldn’t bother with putting on lipstick, but tonight had been a special night: it was the same day five years ago when you and your husband had first met.
As you continued to dry yourself, the once strong and hypnotic scent of your body wash had faded and was absorbed into the thick fabric of your towel. All the while, your husband was staring intently at your body without any distractions in between.
“Francis, what are you looking at?” you teased him with an innocent-like voice.
“Only the most beautiful woman in the world,” he cooed with a soft smile. Having already bathed earlier, he was waiting for you to come to bed with him.
However, you had predicted his intentions far before the night had even begun. Seeing as how it was the anniversary of your meeting, you knew your husband had more plans for you before the day was over. Knowing that, you felt like teasing him until he was practically begging for you to join him. You wondered just how long he would last before he finally lost his patience.
“______________, are you almost done?” Francis asked as he stopped to stretch along the length of his bed.
“My hair’s not dry yet, Francis,” you daintily smiled at him. “You know how it gets when it’s wet in bed.”
“Come join me, and that won’t be the only thing that’ll be wet,” your husband said in a seductive voice.
“You tease,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “But I’m being serious. I’ll be done in a few moments. I just need to wring out the last drops and take the rest of this lipstick off.”
“It looks fine on you.”
You shook your head. “I don’t want you waking up in the morning and find your body covered in red splotches. That’s more trouble on your part.”
“So like you to be considerate…” Francis smiled. He was still watching you. Though you were fresh out of the bath, he didn’t understand why you had to bother changing into a nightgown if it was coming off in a matter of minutes. You were destroying him. Didn’t you know it was your anniversary night? That meant something to you, didn’t it?
“_________________, you’re killing me over here,” he said. He watched with squeamish anticipation as your towel moved towards the back of your neck and slithered around your throat. He was supposed to be in that position. He should have had his hands and lips over your tender skin and inhaled the sweet fragrance of your scent.
“It looks like your towel’s getting more attention than I am,” he pointed out to you.
“What are you talking about, Francis?” you giggled. “I’m only drying myself. Is that really a bother?” You pressed your lips against your towel again, staining the creamy surface with yet another lip mark from your lipstick.
“As if that’s the only thing you’ll be doing,” your husband frowned. “I’m still waiting.”
You chuckled. “I told you I’ll be there in a few moments.” To tease him even further, you dabbed your towel against your lips once again, only this time, you went even further by burying your entire face into the cloth.
“_______________, you’re playing with me.” You could hear the impatience in your husband’s voice. He wanted you right now. If you wouldn’t give him what he wanted, he was going to be left unsatisfied. Still, a little push wasn’t going to hurt anyone.
“You know what, Francis?” you spoke to him. “I was thinking that maybe I’m not clean enough.”
“______________...” Francis was on the verge of whining.
“I think maybe all of that drying just now lost some of the smell of my soap, too. Perhaps I need to bathe again.”
Francis looked up. “Are you perhaps inviting me to join you?”
You placed a finger on you cheek as though in thought. “Now why would I ask you to do something like that?”
At this point, your husband caught on to your little act. He wasn’t so much upset with you as he was impatient with ending the night with you. “Please just come to bed, ____________,” he said, his eyes still fixated on every curve of your body. “You’ve been keeping me for too long. The day’s almost over.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” you smiled. Finally, you took one last round of running your hair through your towel and went to join your husband in bed. You were getting impatient with yourself, too, and now the two of you were together at last.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you whispered as he began to kiss your neck.
“You will be,” Francis hummed back. Perhaps this was why you chose to wear some clothes. You knew how much he enjoyed removing your undergarments to reveal your exposed body. “I can do much better than that rag ever could hope to.”
“Oh, please, Francis,” you laughed. “Like you could ever compare to the inviting comfort of my bath towel.”
Your husband stopped and down at your exposed body. “Do you really want me to prove it?” he asked in a husky voice.
“Try me,” you teased him, your eyes narrowed and relaxed from his touch. Of course, you had been hoping he would prove you wrong. After all, it was the night of your anniversary.
Francis watched as you carefully dabbed your wet lips against your bath towel and wiped away the stray droplets from your red lips. Normally, you wouldn’t bother with putting on lipstick, but tonight had been a special night: it was the same day five years ago when you and your husband had first met.
As you continued to dry yourself, the once strong and hypnotic scent of your body wash had faded and was absorbed into the thick fabric of your towel. All the while, your husband was staring intently at your body without any distractions in between.
“Francis, what are you looking at?” you teased him with an innocent-like voice.
“Only the most beautiful woman in the world,” he cooed with a soft smile. Having already bathed earlier, he was waiting for you to come to bed with him.
However, you had predicted his intentions far before the night had even begun. Seeing as how it was the anniversary of your meeting, you knew your husband had more plans for you before the day was over. Knowing that, you felt like teasing him until he was practically begging for you to join him. You wondered just how long he would last before he finally lost his patience.
“______________, are you almost done?” Francis asked as he stopped to stretch along the length of his bed.
“My hair’s not dry yet, Francis,” you daintily smiled at him. “You know how it gets when it’s wet in bed.”
“Come join me, and that won’t be the only thing that’ll be wet,” your husband said in a seductive voice.
“You tease,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “But I’m being serious. I’ll be done in a few moments. I just need to wring out the last drops and take the rest of this lipstick off.”
“It looks fine on you.”
You shook your head. “I don’t want you waking up in the morning and find your body covered in red splotches. That’s more trouble on your part.”
“So like you to be considerate…” Francis smiled. He was still watching you. Though you were fresh out of the bath, he didn’t understand why you had to bother changing into a nightgown if it was coming off in a matter of minutes. You were destroying him. Didn’t you know it was your anniversary night? That meant something to you, didn’t it?
“_________________, you’re killing me over here,” he said. He watched with squeamish anticipation as your towel moved towards the back of your neck and slithered around your throat. He was supposed to be in that position. He should have had his hands and lips over your tender skin and inhaled the sweet fragrance of your scent.
“It looks like your towel’s getting more attention than I am,” he pointed out to you.
“What are you talking about, Francis?” you giggled. “I’m only drying myself. Is that really a bother?” You pressed your lips against your towel again, staining the creamy surface with yet another lip mark from your lipstick.
“As if that’s the only thing you’ll be doing,” your husband frowned. “I’m still waiting.”
You chuckled. “I told you I’ll be there in a few moments.” To tease him even further, you dabbed your towel against your lips once again, only this time, you went even further by burying your entire face into the cloth.
“_______________, you’re playing with me.” You could hear the impatience in your husband’s voice. He wanted you right now. If you wouldn’t give him what he wanted, he was going to be left unsatisfied. Still, a little push wasn’t going to hurt anyone.
“You know what, Francis?” you spoke to him. “I was thinking that maybe I’m not clean enough.”
“______________...” Francis was on the verge of whining.
“I think maybe all of that drying just now lost some of the smell of my soap, too. Perhaps I need to bathe again.”
Francis looked up. “Are you perhaps inviting me to join you?”
You placed a finger on you cheek as though in thought. “Now why would I ask you to do something like that?”
At this point, your husband caught on to your little act. He wasn’t so much upset with you as he was impatient with ending the night with you. “Please just come to bed, ____________,” he said, his eyes still fixated on every curve of your body. “You’ve been keeping me for too long. The day’s almost over.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” you smiled. Finally, you took one last round of running your hair through your towel and went to join your husband in bed. You were getting impatient with yourself, too, and now the two of you were together at last.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you whispered as he began to kiss your neck.
“You will be,” Francis hummed back. Perhaps this was why you chose to wear some clothes. You knew how much he enjoyed removing your undergarments to reveal your exposed body. “I can do much better than that rag ever could hope to.”
“Oh, please, Francis,” you laughed. “Like you could ever compare to the inviting comfort of my bath towel.”
Your husband stopped and down at your exposed body. “Do you really want me to prove it?” he asked in a husky voice.
“Try me,” you teased him, your eyes narrowed and relaxed from his touch. Of course, you had been hoping he would prove you wrong. After all, it was the night of your anniversary.
Literature
France x Reader. Accents in the morning.
Your eyes opened that morning to an empty space in the bed beside you. A moment of panic gripped you, as it did every time you woke up alone. Everybody knew about Francis' past and you were no exception. So every time you woke up alone you feared he might have done the same with you as he used to with all his past girlfriends. Of course within a matter of seconds you would get a grip and get out of bed to find him in the front room or the kitchen, waiting for you.
This morning, you could tell something was different. Not wrong, just... Different. But your mind was too fogged by sleep for a few moments for you to realise what it was. You
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~Good Morning~ France x Reader
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For the first time in a long while, ___ did not feel lonely. She felt comforted, loved, and warm. Of course, this may have been because she was curled up in someone's arms, but it may also be because she had a wonderful dream last night. ___ refused to move from her spot, merely digging her fingers into this person's shirt. Chatter, no matter how quiet, was heard from the hallway. It bounced around in her head, daring for her to scream at whomever to be quiet. Yes, she had a hangover, and yes, it wasn't nice.
The longer she laid, curled up in this person's arm, the more she was able to hear the people out
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CIRL RussiaxReader
Spring. A wonderful time of blooming flowers, fresh rain, and sunshine
..How you loathed it.
It was a nice enough season by normal standards, but when it came down to your allergies? Those April showers bringing May flowers could rot. You used to love springtime. It was your favorite season. Then this hay fever cropped up out of nowhere and now you were constantly sneezing with a runny nose and itchy eyes. You were always taking allergy medicine for it.
You sighed and stared wistfully out of the window. You really wanted to go lay in the grass, but that would probably make your allergies react and you didn't feel like being miserable.
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Just something, something.
Something stupid. I was doing a writing practice a few days ago and never got around to posting this.
I almost put this on my other account, but it's so inactive that if it becomes active again, you'll recognize it's me just by the writing style. 'OTL
Any similarities to characters, settings, scripts, or stories from other pieces of literature or media are purely coincidental.
France belongs to Himaruya Hidekazu.
This story belongs to me, *GydroZMaa.
© 2013 - 2024 GydroZMaa
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Wow much heat such hot