sibivivere

**I am a young woman, and English is not my native language. I am using Google Translate. So, there will most likely be spelling errors. Sorry for that.

Boy x Girl relationships only.

I will not write about rape, blackmail, violence (against the reader), or manipulation (mostly).

No sadism (against to reader).

There will be no LGBT content.

I will be writing about yandere/dark themed content.

There will be men who yearn, worship and are lovesick.

I don't have a problem with writing smut. I might write it sometimes.

I will try not to specify the reader's skin color, race or appearance.

I will try to write pieces that don't make the reader act stupid or cringe.

I am going to write about football players because I am a big fan.

I’m not an F1 fan, but I like the drivers. So, I’m going to write about them (some of them).

I will also write about movie and TV series characters (except for the ones I don't like).

I won't care about the canon sexualities of the characters or persons. (Like everyone on this platform.)

Masterlist

By the way, I am the owner of the account called 'Tohmyris'.

Sitting on the sofa, trying to hear her light but usually hurried footsteps upstairs makes him irritable.

Climbing onto the back of the armchair and bringing his ear closer to the ceiling, to better hear the songs she hums in her mesmerizing voice, doesn't mean he likes her.

When he notices that she has gone out, he doesn't immediately run to the window to see where she is going.

He isn't interested in any of that.

Just little woman is too loud and... conspicuous.

Sometimes he hears her quick footsteps coming down the stairs. He knows what he will encounter when she rings the bell.

But he cannot understand why his heart races when he gets up to open the door.

When she looks at him, smiling and holding a huge plate of colorful, sugary cookies, he feels compelled to swallow hard.

He hates her smile.

"Good evening Mr. Holmes!"

'Call me Sherlock.'

"I tried a new recipe. And i thought you might like to taste it."

'He doesn't want it. He doesn't care. He'll even slam the door in her face.'

He reaches out and holds the plate from underneath. When his long fingers touch her soft hand, he involuntarily hold his breath.

He runs his cold fingers over her warm skin for just a brief moment and takes the plate from her hand.

He clears his throat and speaks, fixing his gaze somewhere other than on you.

"I don't eat things like that. I'll give them to Watson."

Stupid lies that don't suit him.

It is not the first time she is bringing something to him. And even though she doesn't know, he eats everything she brings.

Watson chuckles at those antics of his.

Fortunately, she don't understand.

She tilt her head slightly and smile politely.

"But they are so sweet."

'Are they as sweet as you?'

He tenses up for a moment, as if she were about to hear that ridiculous thing crossing his mind.

His heart races at her beautiful face and beautiful voice as she look down at him.

She's doing something to him. And even though he hates it, he can't resist her.

The tone of his voice drops, as if he were The tone of his voice drops, as if he were hypnotized.

"Then I'll eat it."

God.. He feels like an obedient little puppy.

But his heart warms when he notices her eyes sparkle and her smile widen.

"Enjoy it, Mr. Holmes. See you later!"

She gives him a small wave, turns around, and heads toward the stairs.

He gazes after her with yearning until she disappears from sight.

His gaze shifts to the plate in his hand. He brings it close to his nose and inhales the sugary scent.

Then, he straightens up decisively and closes the door. He looks out the window as he lifts a cookie to his mouth.

Of course, he isn't going to give those cookies to Watson.

After all, the little woman made them for him.

He is calling out to you, wearing a kitchen apron tied at his waist and holding a dessert spoon coated in pudding.

"You won't believe what I've done, mi amor! Come here!"

You walk toward the kitchen, to share in his excitement.

As you pass through the kitchen door, faced with what you see, you let out a deep sigh and press your lips together.

More than five pots sit on the table, dirty and in disarray. A heap of colorful piping bags is scattered across the counter.

And Pedro is mixing batter in a bowl with a proud smile on his face.

"Things got a bit messy, but don't worry. I'll handle it."

Unable to resist his cuteness, you step closer.

Placing your hand on his shoulder and rising onto your tiptoes, you plant a kiss on his cheek.

"We'll handle it, amor. No problem."

The smile on his handsome face grew even wider, and he turned his head and planted a big kiss on your lips.

"I made a cake for us."

You giggle and look at the sponge cake (a little overcooked) sitting on the counter, fresh out of the oven.

"Do you want me to help?"

The silly smile on his face changed, and he continued whipping the cream seriously.

"No, cariño. You don't accept my help, when you're making a cake for me. So, I'm going to do this on my own."

You raise your eyebrows and smile slightly. You reach for the knife to slice the cake.

Pedro gently taps your hand and stops you.

You look at him in astonishment. "Pedro!"

"No. Go inside, sit down, and wait for me."

You laughed in disbelief and stepped back.

"Alright tough guy."

You called out as you left the kitchen.

"Hurry up! I'm starving."

After you left the kitchen, Pedro laughed and continued whipping the cream.

He saw you poke your head through the doorway a few minutes later and smile at him.

"By the way.."

You gave him a flirtatious look, arching your eyebrows.

"I wasn't talking about the cake."

As Pedro’s eyes flew open at the words he heard, he lifted his head and looked at you. You had already fled to the living room.

Upon hearing your giggles, he let out a deep breath and looked at the ingredients in front of him.

"Should I have accepted the help..?"

Klaus Mikaelson

His Pretty Woman

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Kylian Mbappe

Holiday Plans

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Pedro Gonzalez

Beginner Chef

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Sherlock Holmes

The Prettiest Distraction

"We've been together for a year, and this isn't the first time we've gone on vacation together. Have I ever taken you to a hotel before, mon amour?"

You shrugged in response to his logical explanation.

"It can be like this for now, my love. It’s not a problem for me. I don’t want you wearing yourself out over it."

Kylian furrowed his brows slightly, tossed the t-shirt he was holding onto the suitcase, and stepped toward you.

He knelt beside the bed and took hold of your foot, which was dangling from the bed.

You flinched when you felt his cold hand against your warm foot.

Kylian noticed this instantly; he cradled your foot between his large hands and bowed his head.

He tried to warm your foot by running his lips over it and blowing his warm breath onto it.

This gesture of his warmed not only your feet but also your heart.

"Doing something for you wouldn't tire me out."

As your heart raced, you involuntarily raised your hand and placed it on his curly hair, which was starting to grow longer.

Kylian lifted his head and looked into your eyes.

"It would be a pleasure for me."

Your eyes welled up slightly as you looked at the man you were madly in love with.

"You shouldn't be this cute."

You lowered the hand with which you had been stroking his hair to his cheek and gave it a gentle tug.

You looked upward and turned your head to hold back your tears.

Kylian smiled, rose up onto his knees, and leaned toward you.

He planted a deep kiss on your cheek and whispered into your ear.

"That's how my mom raised me, bébé."

Unable to stop himself, he planted a few more kisses on your cheek and temple.

You giggled, placed your hands on his cheeks, and planted a kiss on his lips.

With his eyes closed and lost in the moment, he rested his head on your shoulder and murmured.

"So.. Shall we pack your suitcase together?"

"Stop what, love?"

He rests his arms on the table and leans toward you. He smiles, revealing his charming dimples.

You exhale a tense, slightly irritated breath and turn your eyes toward him. You feel your face burning as you furrow your brows slightly.

"You know very well what is that."

You can't keep your eyes on him for long. You lean back as you take a sip of your drink.

"If you don't like the restaurant, we can go somewhere else. You just have to say so, love."

He says this with a serious facial expression, but in a mocking, low-pitched tone.

"Klaus."

He laughs, unable to help himself.

"What?! What did I do now?"

"Stop looking at me like that!"

"Wow! So, am I forbidden from looking at my woman now?"

His eyes widen as if he has suffered a great betrayal.

He leans back and starts looking at the glass in his hand. Although he tries not to show it, his lip purses slightly.

You raise your eyebrows slightly, trying not to let his sweetness get to you.

He’s always pulling these cheap tricks.

And you always fall for them.

This time, you rest your arms on the table and lean toward him.

"Love.."

You draw out the word as you look into his sulky eyes.

Who could have imagined that he was a hybrid who had lived for a thousand years and turned everyone's life into a living hell?

As soon as he hears your soft voice, one of his eyes twitches and his chest heaves with a deep breath.

You don't need to force him to give up.

You reach out and touch the hand he is using to hold the glass.

The moment he feels your hand, his eyes widen, and he instantly drops the glass and grasps your hand.

As he holds your small hand in his palm and strokes it, he clears his throat and turns his head to the side.

"You broke my heart.. Forgiving won't be easy. Y'know that, don't you?"

You smile at the moody tone of his voice.

You looked how gently he strokes the back of your hand, cradled within his large palm.

The contradiction between his words and actions makes you laugh.

It warms your heart to see the most powerful creature in the world, acting like a kid in front of you.

There was nothing to forgive.

You knew your man would never stop adoring you.