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#daniel brühl angst
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Don’t Blame Me (Helmut Zemo x Reader)
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A/N: Hellooo friends. This is a fic I started a month or so ago and just now finished so I hope you like it!! This is based around the song “Don’t Blame Me” by Taylor Swift 
Word Count: 4,200
Don’t blame me, love made me crazy. If it doesn’t you ain’t doin’ it right.
 When you agreed to help Sam and Bucky investigate who was to blame for the recent string of super soldiers running around, you didn’t really think it would entail breaking a terrorist out of prison.
Helmut Zemo was crafty, dangerous, and overall, at least in your mind, a shit person. So, when he emerged from the dark in what apparently was his parking garage, you had to hold back from knocking his teeth in.
It wasn’t long after you were aboard a private jet flying to Madripoor to try and get to the bottom of everything. Bucky and Sam were bickering constantly, and the Baron wasn’t exactly welcome company, but he was quiet as he sat across from you, reading in his seat. 
A question was nagging at you, one that was insensitive in some respects, but you were curious regardless.
“Did you really try to kill us all because a sentient robot decided to try and take over the world?” you’d asked suddenly.
Zemo’s eyes lifted from his book to you, raising an eyebrow as he did. He sighed slightly, marking his page before setting the book on the small tray beside him.
“To be truthful, you and your friends were easiest to blame,” Zemo told you casually.
You eyed him, waiting for some cruel comment, but none came.
“We saved everyone we could find in time, you do know that right?” you replied, crossing your arms.
“Yes, and I do applaud you and the others for that, but my family…” Zemo began but trailed off, a pained look in his eye.
You were both silent for a moment before he continued, “Love will make you crazy, perhaps you’ll find that out some day.”
A nasty remark caught in your throat, and you sat back, because he was right.
 My name is whatever you decide, and I’m just gonna call you mine.
 Of course, your job was being the arm candy. And not even the arm candy of whoever the hell Sam was pretending to be while you four slunk around Madripoor, Zemo’s arm candy.
The dress you had managed to find on such short notice glittered in every light you passed, the gold color of it apparently matching the gold in the Sokovian flag, according to Zemo. The high heels you wore were almost impossible to walk in, and you could hope you wouldn’t be doing any running.
Your hair was curled and pinned back, your makeup accentuating the best parts of your face.
When the car stopped on the bridge, Sam helped you out of the car, and Zemo appeared beside you, offering his arm, his gentleman ways stirring something up inside you.
The man was a murderer, but a classy murderer at that.
You took his arm, and he began leading you towards the city along with Bucky and Sam, who were ready to kill the man if he touched you the wrong way. Despite knowing the fact you wore a knife in the thigh holster barely hidden by your dress, they’d kill Zemo for you at your request.
By the time you finally got to the club, your feet were on fire, and you were ready to just get whatever information you needed and get the hell out of there.
Zemo led you all towards the bar, and once you all reached it his arm let go of yours, moving down to your waist and securing you to his side. Sam looked ready to punch him, and looks could kill, the glare he was getting from Bucky would have made him drop dead.
You tried your best to look happy, even leaning into Zemo to give everyone a show.
“Hello gentlemen, and lady, wasn’t expecting you Smiling Tiger,” the bartender greeted you all.
“His plans changed, we have business to do with Selby,” Zemo lied smoothly, easily and almost absentmindedly, pulling you closer to him when a drunk girl bumped into you.
So close you had to put a hand on his chest as to not look awkward and uncomfortable.
“The usual?” the bartender asked, making Sam only nod, trying to look intimidating.
You could feel Zemo’s heartbeat fast beneath your hand, it seemed his calm exterior may have been just an act.
The bartender set to work, making two normal shots of what you assumed was probably rum or tequila, before setting to work on Sam’s drink.
It was made with at least three different liquors, and you nearly jumped when the bartender pulled a cobra from a glass jar, tossing it on the counter and cutting it open from head to tail, easily pulling out its heart and plopping it in the drink.
You almost snorted, there was no way Sam was going to do it.
The bartender set the two normal shots in front of you and Zemo, and slid the more intricate drink in front of Sam.
“Ah, Smiling Tiger, your favorite!” Zemo exclaimed as Sam reluctantly picked up the glass, inspecting it.
Zemo handed you one of the other shots, taking the other in his hand not on your hip.
“Cheers Comrad,” Zemo told Sam, clinking his glass against the other man’s before turning to you, leaning down so his lips were by your ear, “and you, dorogoy.”
You had no idea what that meant as you weren’t exactly fluent in Russian, one of the main spoken languages of the Sokovians, but nonetheless gave your fake date a dazzling smile before tossing back the alcohol.
It burned your throat as it went down, almost making you feel dizzy, it seemed to be stronger than the average alcohol.
Sam was hyping himself up it seemed, the bartender was obviously getting suspicious. You managed to shoot a look that said “hurry the fuck up” to him and he finally tossed it back, obviously disgusted as he did so.
But at least the bartender seemed satisfied.
“I got word from on high, you ain’t welcome here,” the bartender said pointedly to Zemo, who had Bucky standing close behind him, rather good at keeping up the Winter Soldier persona.
“I have no business with the Power Broker,” Zemo began, “but if he insists, he can either came and talk to me, or bring Selby for a chat.”
“New haircut?” the bartender asked Bucky suddenly, who only gave him a deadpan look.
When the bartender looked away, Bucky leaned over to Zemo, “A power broker, really?”.
“Every kingdom needs its king,” Zemo replied, smiling a bit. “Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”
“Do you know him?” Sam asked.
“Only by reputation. In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner,” Zemo told him.
Suddenly a man saddled up beside Bucky, telling him something you didn’t understand in Russian.
That was all it took for Bucky to grab him, shoving you and Zemo out of the way as he slammed the man into the bar, bending his arm back and making the man groan in pain.
The sound of guns cocking around you filled the air, and Zemo moved in front of you as he leaned towards Bucky and whispered, “Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.”
“Selby will see you now,” a man said as he appeared beside Bucky, who let the man go.
“Thank you,” Zemo said, wrapping an arm around your waist again as he led you away, Bucky and Sam trailing behind you both.
You were all led to a back room where the club’s music was quieter, making you wonder if the others inside would be able to hear if you all got shot.
The room looked to be an office of some sort, couches and a desk were the main staples of the room, along with the bodyguards stationed around the room.
Zemo sat down on one of the couches, easily pulling you down onto his lap so you sat sideways, legs hanging off one side and one arm going to rest behind him, the fur of his coat tickling you a bit.
You did your best to look like the bimbo arm candy you were playing, even going as far as leaning into Zemo’s chest, and placing a kiss on his cheek.
His arm wrapped tighter around you, hand gripping your waist.
“Don’t get any ideas,” you whispered to him as a woman with short white hair entered the room. This must be Selby.
“You should know Baron,” Selby began, taking her place on a couch across from you and Zemo, “people don’t just come into my bar and make demands.”
“Not a demand, an offer,” Zemo spoke as you fiddled with the fur on the back of his coat nervously.
"A lot has changed since you were last here,” Selby replied, “by the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?”.
“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo answered, voice unwavering. “I’m sure you have already heard what I’m here for.”
“You’re taller than I’ve heard, Smiling Tiger,” Selby commented, half ignoring Zemo.
Sam gave Selby a convincing smile, so she turned back to Zemo, “What’s the offer?”.
Zemo smirked, “Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum and I give you him, along with the code words to control him of course,” Zemo spoke, nodding in Bucky’s direction, “he’ll do anything you want.”
Selby smiled, leaning back on the couch, “What about her?” she asked, motioning to you perched on the Baron’s lap, “She’s a pretty one Helmut.”
While your heart pounded in your chest, Zemo only gave you a small smile, his hand moving to cup your cheek, gloved thumb rubbing against the warm skin, “Isn’t she? But I’m afraid this little bird is mine.”
Your face got hot, but you managed a ditzy giggle, grabbing Zemo’s hand from your cheek and holding it in your lap, giving it a squeeze. Maybe a bit too hard.
“Too bad, I could think of plenty of people who would gladly take her to bed,” Selby commented, shrugging off the fact she essentially wanted to pimp you out.
Zemo must have felt you tense up because he gave your hand a light squeeze, leaning over to whisper to you as Selby moved to ‘inspect’ Bucky.
“I won’t let anything happen,” he reassured quietly, making you nod.
While you really tried to hate this man still, it was hard not too when he’d just promised to protect you from the psychopath you were doing business with.
“I’m glad I didn’t kill you immediately, you were right to come to me,” Selby suddenly spoke up, seemingly satisfied with the deal offered to her. “Arrogant, but right.”
Zemo nodded, motioning for her to go on.
“The serum is here in Madripoor, Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you want to thank…or condemn, depending on what side you’re on,” Selby explained. “The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but things didn’t go as planned.”
“Is Nagel still here in Madripoor?” Zemo asked.
“Oh,” Selby answered, almost mockingly, “the bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.”
Zemo opened his mouth to reply but the vibration of a phone broke the silence, all eyes fell on Sam, who looked like he wanted the Earth to open up and swallow him whole.
Selby frowned, “Answer it, on speaker.”
Sam pulled his phone from his pocket, doing as told, “Hello?”.
“Hey, we need to talk about the situation, it’s been driving me nuts,” came the voice of Sam’s sister, Sarah.
“What situation are we talking about exactly?” Sam asked, trying to keep up the tough guy exterior.
“Are you high?” Sarah exclaimed on the other end, “You know exactly what situation, it’s the only situation you and I have!”.
“What situation Sarah? Say it!” Sam commanded, raising his voice.
You could feel yourself beginning to sweat, this was going downhill fast.
“The damn boat! And watch your tone okay? I let you slide at the bank.”
Sam scoffed, “The bank, yeah. Laundered so much…they’ll come around.”
“If that was the case, why did they dog you out, Big Time?” Sarah asked, obviously annoyed.
“Yeah, you damn right I’m big time, you’ll see when I have that banker killed,” Sam answered, trying to sound cocky.
“Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this! Sam, listen, I’ll have to call you back,” Sarah spoke, and with that, hung up.
Your heels were kicked off and you were ready to run.
“Sam? Who’s Sam?” Selby asked, your heart dropped, “Kill them!”.
You jumped, Zemo joining you shortly after, but before any of you could pull a gun, the sound of glass shattering filled the room, along with a sickening crack as a bullet pierced Selby’s skull from an unseen shooter, killing her instantly.
All of you ran, Zemo grabbing your hand and pulling you from the club, weaving you through sweaty bodies and out into the cool night air.
“They’re gonna pin this on us!” Sam spoke hurriedly as you all began power walking down the street, you stumble a bit as Zemo pulled you along.
“We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead,” Zemo reassured, continuing back the way you’d came.
Phones began pinging around you and it wasn’t long before the sound of gun shots filled the air, some whizzing right past you.
“Shit!” Sam yelled as you all scrambled, Bucky and Sam continued running forwards, while Zemo pulled you down an alleyway, both of you sprinting, breathing hard, his hand never leaving yours.
Your path was blocked suddenly by a rather larger man, and before he could react you ripped your hand away from Zemo’s, reaching for the knife in its holster on your thigh and tossing it, the blade sinking into the man’s chest.
“Come on!” you shouted, grabbing Zemo’s hand once again, as it was your turn to pull him away from danger.
You felt relieved when you spotted Bucky and Sam at the end of the alley you’d turned into, both staring in confusion at a dead man laying on the ground.
“Seems you have a guardian angel,” Sam was saying as you and Zemo stopped, catching your breath.
“You okay?” Bucky asked you, and you nodded, still trying to breathe normally.
“Well, isn’t this just perfect,” came a voice behind you.
You whipped around to find the last person you expected to be there. Sharon Carter.
 For you, I would cross the line.
 Music shook Sharon’s large home, you were almost afraid some of the priceless art would fall due to the loud bass.
People danced, sweaty bodies moving to the beat of the music, or they stood around talking about the art surrounding you.
You sat at a small table, sipping the drink you’d gotten from the bar. Bucky and Sam were “patrolling” at a party of all places, and you could see Zemo on the dancefloor. He danced like the whitest dad at the neighborhood block party, but either the alcohol, or the fact it was sort of cute, made you giggle.
Zemo happened to look over as you were laughing, and you quickly tried to hide it by taking a sip of your drink, but it was obvious he saw you.
In minutes he was sitting across from you at the table, drink in hand, a bemused look at his face.
“Did I catch you smiling at me?” he asked, taking a sip of the amber liquid in his glass.
“Laughing, actually,” you retorted, leaning back and crossing your arms.
Zemo smirked, “You expect me to believe that, dorogoy?”.
“You dance like an old man,” you replied, looking away from him and to the dancefloor.
Surprisingly, Zemo laughed, a genuine one, making you smile a bit.
“Ah,” Zemo pointed to you, “there it is again.”
“Oh, shut up,” you told him, taking a drink from your own glass.
Zemo obliged, but still smiled as he leaned back in his chair.
It was silent between you both, before you spoke again,
“Would you really have protected me from Selby?” you asked, eyeing the man across from you.
“Of course, you had no business with her,” Zemo replied without hesitation.
“Even with my…background?” you asked, referring to your alliance with the Avengers.
The man chuckled, “Like I said, of course, you’ve proven you are much more than what I believed you to be.”
“And that would be?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow.
“I thought you’d be much like your friends, loyal to a fault, but you…you are much more. You know what you want, you know what you’re worth, I admire that,” Zemo told you, and you couldn’t help the blush that crept across your cheeks.
“Um…thank you,” you told him awkwardly.
“You are welcome,” Zemo told you, throwing back the rest of his drink, “now, you owe me a dance.”
You must have looked unsure, because Zemo smiled, standing and offering his hand to you, “I promise to not dance like an old man, as you put it. We must blend in, correct?”.
Sighing, you took his hand, and he led you to the dancefloor, more towards the edge, away from others. He took your hands, moving them so that they rested on his shoulders, and his moved to your waist, pulling you a bit closer.
While the song was fast and loud, you two moved slow, still to the beat, but nothing like the others jumping around you.
“Is this so bad?” Zemo asked, looking down at you.
“I suppose not, but you better be careful, one wrong move and Bucky will make you swallow your teeth,” you joked, making the Baron wince slightly.
“It will be hard not to cross that line with you, I must admit,” Zemo told you casually.
“You can’t fall for the first girl you meet out of prison,” you laughed, but the man in front of you looked serious.
He leaned down so that his face was closer to yours, his lips beside your ear, “How can I not when she is so beautiful?”.
A shiver went down your spine as one of his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you against him, his other hand sliding into yours.
You managed to get out a small laugh, “You’re smooth, I’ll give you that.”
 I would fall from grace, just to touch your face.
 After some help from Sharon in Madripoor and the imminent death of Dr. Nagel, who was shot by none other than Zemo himself, you were all hiding out in one of Zemo’s houses, this one located in Latvia, where the super soldiers were thought to be.
The sheets beneath you were cool and soft despite the heat radiating from your bare skin. You were laying on your side, watching the rise and fall of the Baron’s chest. He looked peaceful when sleeping, the seemingly permanent frown lines gone from his face.
If someone had told you a few days ago you would have slept with none other than Helmut Zemo, you probably would have punched them in the throat. But laying here beside him, the morning sun streaming through the window, you couldn’t help but smile.
Sam and Bucky had left you to “babysit” Zemo last night and hadn’t come back. If they found you like this, they’d surely kill Zemo, and then you, for “sleeping with the enemy”.
This would be your fall from grace for sure.
The Baron’s eyelids fluttered suddenly, slowly opening, blinking in the morning light. He sighed, blinking a few times before his eyes met yours.
A small smile broke across his face and he reached for you, easily pulling you on top of him, despite your slight protests.
“Shhh, just lay with me printsessa,” Zemo spoke, voice gravely from sleep.
You huffed, resting your head in the crook of his neck, his fingers trailed up and down your spine. He turned his head to plant a kiss on your forehead, making you giggle.
Zemo smiled in turn, resting his head back against the pillows.
It was silent besides the sound of you both breathing, both content to lay there forever, although you both knew it wouldn’t last. None of this would, but that wouldn’t stop you from pretending it would.
“They’re going to come for you, aren’t they?” you asked softly, tracing a scar on Zemo’s chest, more than likely from his years as a Colonel in the Sokovian army.
The Dora Milaje warned Bucky just yesterday they would come for Zemo, and that you would all have no choice but to hand him over.
Zemo sighed, arms wrapping around you, “I suppose…but that does not mean I will be gone forever.”
“You’re going to escape The Raft?” you scoffed, making Zemo chuckle.
“Did Sam not do so?” he asked you, “Do you not believe in me?”.
You smiled and shook your head, “Of course I do…it’s just, they’ll find you, again and again.”
Zemo kissed the top of your head, “I’ll find you lyubov’, every time.”
 If you walked away, I’d beg you on my knees to stay.
 You gripped onto Zemo’s coat tightly, sobbing.
“Y-You can’t, you can’t go,” you whimpered, tears streaming down your face.
Everyone knew this would happen, you, Zemo, Bucky. You knew the Dora Milaje would come for him, but it was too soon.
You’d ran with him when Bucky and Sam were distracted by John Walker and the Dora Milaje when they’d all arrived at Zemo’s home in Latvia. You two spent an amazing night at another one of his safe houses.
When he brought you to the Sokovia memorial, you knew he was saying goodbye before Bucky even showed.
“I have to,” Zemo told you calmly, gently prying your hands off his coat. You only wrapped your arms around his waist, wishing that if you held him tight enough, he wouldn’t leave.
“Please,” you choked out, “you don’t have to take him.”
You moved to look at the members of the Dora Milaje standing behind Zemo, but you were only met with a cold glare, “He will pay for his crimes,” one of them told you.
Turning your attention back to Zemo, you were met with a man who accepted his fate. You wanted him to fight, to run, but he wouldn’t, you knew that.
Zemo took your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your lips, when he pulled away he kissed your forehead as well.
“Let me go, Moya lyubov’, I’ll find you,” Zemo told you softly.
You shook your head as Bucky grabbed you from behind, forcing you away from Zemo, holding you tightly against him as you thrashed, hitting his arms, kicking him.
Given he was at least 50 times stronger than yourself, it really wasn’t much of a fight on his end.
You watched helplessly as Zemo nodded to Bucky in thanks, giving you one last look before following the female warriors to their ship and boarding without a fight.
He only let you go when the ship disappeared from sight and you collapsed, the hard ground beneath you hurting your knees as you fell but you didn’t care.
You cried into your hands, your whole body shaking. The one good thing in your life in years and it was gone in seconds, he was gone in seconds.
“Come back,” you rasped out, “please.”
Bucky let you cry until your sobs had died and you’d stopped shaking. He carefully helped you up and away from the memorial.
“It’s better this way,” Bucky tried to reassure you, but you weren’t listening, you could only think of the phone number Zemo had put into your phone the night before. The number that with one call, could maybe get him back.
 Oh lord save me, my drug is my baby, I’ll be using for the rest of my life.
 Red lights flashed and sirens blared throughout the Raft, signaling a security breach. The lights inside went out and the emergency lights flashed on, illuminating everything in red.
Helmut Zemo sat up on his bed, raising an eyebrow.
Guards ran past the Baron’s cell, armed and ready for whatever, or whoever, had just breached one of the most top security prisons in the world.
The door of Helmut’s cell slid up moments later. Helmut stood, walking hesitantly towards to escape.
A shadow moved in the blinking red lights, walking towards him. Helmut had no weapons, but he’d go down fighting whatever the hell was coming towards him.
But the lights flashed again, illuminating a familiar face. Your hair was tied back, a gun in your grip.
“Dorogoy?” the Baron spoke.
When the lights flashed again you were smiling, running towards him now and when you slammed into him, wrapping your arms around him, Helmut felt his heart skip a beat.
Helmut’s fingers tangled into your hair as he held you tightly, afraid you’d disappear if he let go, still unsure if this was even real.
You buried your face into his shoulder, hugging him even tighter.
“I know what you mean now,” you told him, your voice muffled.
Helmut’s brow furrowed, pulling away from you.
“What?” he asked, making you smile.
“Love, it really does make you crazy,” you replied.
Helmut smiled, shaking his head slightly and pressing a kiss to your lips.
 Don’t blame me, love made me crazy. If it doesn’t you ain’t doin’ it right.
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violetmuses · 10 months
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Expensive - Helmut Zemo (18+ MINORS DNI)
TITLE: “Expensive” - Helmut Zemo (18+ MINORS DNI)
FANDOM: Marvel - “Falcon and The Winter Soldier” 
CHARACTER: Helmut Zemo 
MAIN PAIRING: Helmut Zemo + Female Reader 
MAIN STORYLINE: Everyone has a vice… 
Author’s Note: Hey! As a warning, this One Shot includes SMUT content. (18+ Minors DNI) Adult themes, strong language, etc. This project is also dedicated to @norabrice1701. Thank you so much for helping out with my writer’s block, Nora! Happy reading and feedback would be greatly appreciated. - V. 💜
Main Masterlist 💜
__________
2024
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Eight years of both isolation and silence. 
Despite dodging bullets and running out of the Brass Monkey Saloon with James and Sam, Zemo moved on, giving himself one chance to enjoy this semblance of freedom. 
In truth, there was only a matter of time before the mission would slap him in the face with reality all over again. 
He wouldn’t stay out for long. 
Not long after saving lives in the dark, Sharon Carter threw a party, showing everyone from art dealers to other guests an opportunity to mingle and dance. 
James and Sam cornered elsewhere, surely not moving on the dance floor or partaking in alcohol. 
Soon after ordering another drink, Zemo turns and notices you standing with your own glass of champagne. He prefers whisky, taking careful sips regardless. 
Meanwhile, you were different. You make a point to look at this man cautiously, like you’d seen him before. 
Maybe. How could you forget this handsome face? You think to yourself. 
He’s wearing his dark turtleneck, casted in blue lighting that strobes from the ceiling found overhead. 
His skin pales through this aqua light, but his nearly amber eyes watch you as he peers over that whisky glass. Light brown hair falls out of place, showing one loose curl that angles by his forehead. 
“I stopped drinking for good…” His voice rasps towards you, revealing accented English over booming music that plays out loud. 
“That's great! You say, ironically lifting your glass of champagne and plotting a joke of your own. “Did the bartender find Apple Juice for you tonight?” 
“No, Dear.” This possible stranger laughs for only a moment and the amazing sound nearly tickles your senses. He even sends a joke right back to you, lifting his own glass. “I drink for evil. This is whisky.” 
“Good one. Cheers.” You clink glasses with him, celebrating tonight with this one man who has definitely caught your attention. 
_____________
After trading this conversation back and forth, you threw caution to the wind and conjured a dare, kissing him at the stroke of midnight. 
You could hardly breathe when his lips first met yours, almost shaking and trying to step away in public before James and Sam could notice. Those men were his friends there, apparently. 
You couldn’t leave him behind without “consequences.” 
Bumps and stumbles echo your trail back to him later on.  
Right now, you’re cornered in one guest bedroom, trapped by Helmut’s lips once again as this man holds your face with both hands. 
He’s set one leg between your thighs, angling just right. You can already feel his clothed erection pulsing without fail. 
In the middle of him kissing your neck and mouthing hickies that will bruise at dawn, you tremble speaking. 
“Condom?” You struggle because it feels so good, but still try to remind him of safety for countless reasons. 
“Yes.” Helmut pulls away from your beautiful skin during that one moment and nods, caressing your cheek as if you were the most stunning woman on Earth. 
He smiles against your lips before taking out the condom and taking off his belt. Both of you keep nodding towards one another, absolutely sure that tonight would happen like this. 
It’s almost precious, bonding with a stranger. 
In anticipation you remove underwear, lace for the evening, and wrap both legs around his nude waist. 
“Go.” You whisper, giving him full consent to line up with your entrace and plunge at last. 
Obeying, Helmut listens, almost delicately filling you to the hilt. 
“Do not get us caught.” He warns, lowering his tone through every lethal movement of those damn hips. 
“Shit.” You nearly cried, clutching his shoulders of the turtleneck for balance somehow. 
Since you can’t yell out loud in pleasure, he holds the back of your head, but uses that opposite hand to cover your whimpering mouth. 
Before either one of you could speak again, warmth heats up all space found between your legs and thankfully reaches the condom. 
“Shh…” Helmut calms this moment, not letting your feet reach the floor just yet as he continues holding you in place. Even still wearing the condom, he rests inside of you, silent. 
His hair, now dishelved in the name of ecstasy, looks even darker through casting moonlight. 
He breathes towards your neck, burying his nose as if to forget so much. 
He wants to forget everything.
And yet, he can’t, even right now. 
Regrettably, he pulls out to make you hollow and trashes the condom elsehwere, prompting you to readjust your clothes. 
Of course Sharon won’t mind if you snuck out of this apartment, but Helmut returns from the bathroom and looks at you, peering those gorgeous brown eyes again. 
“I should um… I should go.” Pointing near the door, you’re awkward now, sobering through lack of more alcohol and this strange mix of relief from sex. 
“Of course.” Helmut nods, dressed once more and fairly opening the door for you like a gentleman. 
Just seconds before you walk out the door and leave him for good, you hold these heels and stand up on your bare tip-toes, kissing Helmut’s cheek. 
“Bye.” You smile, giving him one last farewell as the bedroom door closes. 
When Helmut goes to sleep that night, this man dreams of you, content for once. 
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5 sentences or more
Zemo and leaving
Why must you hurt me with this prompt?
😢
You couldn’t exactly blame him for leaving without saying goodbye, without one last kiss to your hand or neck before disappearing into the shadows forever. What you had with him was nothing more than a product of circumstance, a frank expression of longing for the brief period of time you spent together in a stressful environment. The memories of your shoulder in his mouth and his hands in your hair have already begun to fade away, like scattered images from a dream more difficult to recall shortly after you wake.
It was always going to end like this, at least that’s what you tell yourself as you step onto the plane that’s taking you back to the states. It isn’t until you shove your hands into the pockets of your jacket that you feel something that wasn’t there before; a small charm of some sort. You pull it out to glance at it, letting the chain it’s attached to dangle between your fingers as it reflects the fluorescent lighting of the cabin. The scarlet stone is cut into several facets, accented only by the plate of gold that holds it in place as you turn it over to inspect it. Your initials are engraved in cursive on the back of your birthstone, something he had to have done days in advance before leaving you without a trace.
“What the hell is that?” Sam asks suspiciously, looking over your shoulder.
“Nothing.” You close a fist around the necklace and put it back into your pocket, trying not to smile too wide in front of your partner. “Nothing at all.”
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italianraviolos · 2 years
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¡HELP!
Hi Daniel brühl fandom, especially those who are simping for Laszlo Kreizler.
Ages ago, I read a ff about Laszlo falling in love with one of is patients.
I remember the plot, it was the story of a women who's Sara's friend and she suggests her to go to Laszlo due to her problems.
She suffers from panic and anxiety attacks and Laszlo tries to cure her, and one night tries to cure her in a different way (coff* smut *coff) and after that he invites her to the opera but a few misunderstandings happen about a letter (I don't remember what happens) and so she goes but Sara gives her a knife as a defence.
They come back at Laszlo's house after the opera and she feels threatened during a particular situation of sexual tension, so she takes out the knife and then ✨smut✨ again.
IF ANYONE KNOWS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT PLEASE TELL MEEEEE
Thank you✨
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cazimagines · 2 years
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Not me and @lissarickicyclepath chatting about how Zemo might join Thunderbolts because I don't think he would willingly join and she says:
"Well you have to think about the muilty verse - they might blackmail him with the promise he can get his son again."
-I 😧
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palioom · 1 year
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Daniel Brühl for GQ Germany Men of the Year 2022
Full interview below the cut (in German)
Herr Brühl, in Ihrem neuen Film „Im Westen nichts Neues“ spielen Sie den deutschen Diplomaten Matthias Erzberger, der versucht, die Friedensverhandlungen im Ersten Weltkrieg voranzutreiben. Sie sagen im Film: „Seien Sie gerecht zu Ihrem Feind, sonst wird er Ihren Frieden hassen.“ Was macht Ihrer Meinung nach einen erfolgreichen Frieden aus? Dass beide Seiten aufeinander zugehen und in den Dialog treten. Auch wenn das heute immer schwieriger wird, müssen wir im Kleinen wie im Großen miteinander sprechen, zuhören und versuchen, uns gegenseitig besser zu verstehen. Erzberger war eine sehr wichtige Figur in der Geschichte und Politik Deutschlands, über die zumindest ich in meiner Schulzeit viel zu wenig gelernt habe. Ich finde es bewundernswert, wie er trotz all der Anfeindungen, die ihn erreicht haben, nie nachgegeben hat und bis zum Schluss großen Mut bewies. Solche Persönlichkeiten brauchen wir heute. Wir sehen ja gerade mit Erschrecken, wie uns die Thematik des Films eingeholt hat. Als wir drehten, hat keiner von uns im Entferntesten damit gerechnet, dass sich ein Krieg mitten in Europa einstellen würde. Umso wichtiger ist es, den Appell gegen den Krieg, den die Geschichte von Erich Maria Remarque vermittelt, noch einmal hervorzuheben.
Man hat den Eindruck, dass Propaganda früher wie heute funktioniert … Ja. Es ist schockierend zu sehen, dass wir in der Welt eigentlich keinen Schritt weitergekommen sind. Früher war es einfach, in die Köpfe der jungen Menschen einzudringen. Die meisten Leute sind nie aus ihrem Land rausgekommen. Man konnte Feindbilder schüren, Propaganda machen und manipulieren. Heute, in einer vernetzten und globalisierten Welt, ist das, so würde man zumindest meinen, nicht mehr ganz so einfach möglich. Theoretisch. Praktisch funktioniert das dann leider doch noch recht gut. Neue Angriffsflächen werden gesucht, Mauern werden hochgezogen, und es herrscht Krieg. Das ist sehr ernüchternd.
Wovor haben Sie mit Blick auf die Gesellschaft aktuell am meisten Angst? Vor dem Auseinanderleben. In Zeiten, in denen globale Krisen herrschen, ist es eine bittere Erkenntnis, dass man sich mehr und mehr isoliert und wieder klein denkt. Wissend, dass man diese großen Krisen eigentlich nur gemeinschaftlich bewältigen kann. Da liegt wieder der Instinkt des Menschen zugrunde, sich erst mal abzukapseln und die Schuld beim anderen zu suchen. Das ist der perfekte Nährboden für Populisten und Nationalisten, um ihr Gift zu versprühen. Es sind keine leichten Zeiten. Ich habe aber allein schon durch meine Rolle als Vater die Verpflichtung, die Hoffnung nicht zu verlieren und nicht in Depression und Bitterkeit zu verfallen. Ja, wir befinden uns gerade in einer Talsohle, aber es kommen auch wieder bessere Zeiten. Daran muss und will ich glauben.
Wie bleiben Sie in solchen Zeiten hoffnungsvoll? Indem ich mich an den kleinen Dingen erfreue. Wir verbringen als Familie gerade viel Zeit in Spanien und lernen dort neue Menschen kennen. Ich liebe es, neue Einblicke in unterschiedliche Kulturen zu bekommen und mich mit den Leuten über ihre Ansichten, Ängste und Wünsche auszutauschen. Das verbindet und gibt Kraft. Es hilft einfach, über den Tellerrand zu schauen.
Spielt es sich mit dem Gedanken an all die Krisen als Schauspieler aktuell schwerer? Ja. Aber es hilft gleichzeitig auch, damit umzugehen. Bei „Im Westen nichts Neues“ hat es mich motiviert, an etwas zu arbeiten, an dessen Botschaft man glaubt und dessen Quintessenz für die Gesellschaft auch aktuell von großer Bedeutung ist. Und natürlich ist es am Ende des Tages nur ein ganz kleiner Beitrag, ein Film, die Arbeit eines Schauspielers, aber trotzdem ist es richtig und wichtig, seine Stimme zu nutzen, um solche Geschichten zu erzählen.
Spielt es sich mit dem Gedanken an all die Krisen als Schauspieler aktuell schwerer? Ja. Aber es hilft gleichzeitig auch, damit umzugehen. Bei „Im Westen nichts Neues“ hat es mich motiviert, an etwas zu arbeiten, an dessen Botschaft man glaubt und dessen Quintessenz für die Gesellschaft auch aktuell von großer Bedeutung ist. Und natürlich ist es am Ende des Tages nur ein ganz kleiner Beitrag, ein Film, die Arbeit eines Schauspielers, aber trotzdem ist es richtig und wichtig, seine Stimme zu nutzen, um solche Geschichten zu erzählen.
Muss der Film in solchen Zeiten auch pädagogisches Mittel werden? Oder ist das der Anfang vom Ende der Kunst? Er darf es. Ich würde mir sehr wünschen, dass „Im Westen nichts Neues“ als Unterrichtsstoff an die Schulen kommt. Wir müssen den jungen Menschen klar machen, dass Krieg nicht cool ist. Er ist kein spannendes Abenteuer und hat auch nichts Glorreiches an sich. Und diese Botschaft wird im Film sehr deutlich.
Sehen Sie sich als Schauspieler eher als Dienstleister oder als Künstler? Beides. Ich versuche seit Beginn meiner Karriere, mein Spektrum nicht einzuschränken und für alle Genres offen zu bleiben. Einige Geschichten gehen tiefer und sind im künstlerischen Sinne anspruchsvoller, andere sind leichter und erreichen mehr Menschen. Solange die Kernbotschaft dahinter stimmt, mache ich beides gern und mit Leidenschaft.
Sie waren bei „Im Westen nichts Neues“ nicht nur als Schauspieler, sondern auch als Co-Produzent tätig. Inwiefern hat das Ihre Arbeit verändert? Der Film bedeutet mir dadurch noch mehr. „Im Westen nichts Neues“ war mit Abstand unser größtes und ambitioniertestes Projekt bei Amusement Park Film. Ich bin dieser Firma vor ein paar Jahren beigetreten, um meinen Einfluss zu erweitern und meine Liebe zum Film noch mal anders auszuleben. Als Regisseur oder Produzent hat man natürlich ganz andere Möglichkeiten, Dinge nach vorne zu treiben und Stoffe umzusetzen, die einem wichtig sind.
Wie gehen Sie damit um, als Schauspieler permanent von der Gunst anderer abhängig zu sein? Es ist nicht einfach. Dieser Beruf ist immer unvorhersehbar, und man weiß nie, ob man eine interessante Rolle angeboten bekommt oder nicht. Und wenn man sie dann bekommt, kann man sich je nach Team, Regisseur und Produzent mehr oder weniger einbringen. Das ist nicht immer leicht, gerade wenn der Film dann doch in eine andere Richtung geht, als man es sich selbst gewünscht hätte.
Deshalb auch das Regiedebüt mit „Nebenan“ im letzten Jahr? Genau. Es ist auch mal schön, der Kapitän zu sein, der am Steuer sitzt und für die gesamte Reise die Verantwortung übernimmt.
Sie sagten in einem Interview: „Gute Bücher sind rar.“ Wird es in unserer gesättigten Film- und Serienwelt immer schwieriger, gute Geschichten zu schaffen? Das Problem ist, dass schon so viele gute Geschichten erzählt wurden. Man läuft Gefahr, sich zu wiederholen. Einen neuen Ansatz zu finden, ist heute schwierig. Bedient man eine Formel, so muss man in ihr trotzdem überraschen. Und wenn es gelingt, sich ganz von diesem Korsett zu befreien, dann wird die Herausforderung umso spannender. Deshalb freue ich mich immer, wenn ein besonderes Buch auf dem Schreibtisch landet.
Wie gehen Sie als Schauspieler damit um, dass Filme und Serien immer mehr zur Nebenbeschäftigung werden? Es ist schade zu wissen, wie abgelenkt die Menschen sind, wie selten sie ins Kino gehen und wie wenig Zeit sie in den Filmgenuss investieren. Aus diesem Grund müssen wir noch genauer überlegen, was wir wie erzählen.
Man hat das Gefühl, es herrscht ein ständiger Kampf um die Zeit der Zuschauer … Man muss das als Schauspieler ausblenden. Das wäre ja der Horror, wenn man bei der Arbeit daran denken müsste, in den ersten Minuten ein riesiges Feuerwerk zünden zu müssen oder ganz viel und schnell zu quasseln, um den Zuschauer bei der Stange zu halten. (lacht) Stattdessen muss man an die Stärke des Stoffs glauben und sein Bestes geben, damit dieser auch aufgeht. Bei „Im Westen nichts Neues“, der ja als episches Kinoerlebnis angelegt wurde, setzen wir auch auf ein Tempo, das nicht den heutigen Sehgewohnheiten entspricht. Wir lassen Momente ohne schnelle Schnitte wirken. Wenn eine Geschichte Kraft hat, muss man daran festhalten und auf diese Kraft setzen. Und den Mut auf bringen, sie in der Ruhe zu erzählen, der es bedarf.
Ertappen Sie sich auch manchmal privat dabei, Serien und Filmen nicht mehr die Aufmerksamkeit zu schenken wie früher? Nein. Wenn ich etwas anschaue, dann schaue ich es richtig an. Ich habe es auch noch nie ertragen, nach Filmbeginn ins Kino zu kommen. Aber natürlich hat man immer weniger Zeit dafür, Filme in Ruhe zu genießen. Gerade bin ich Teil einer Online-Jury und genieße es sehr, die Filme von vorne bis hinten an zuschauen und mich mit den Geschichten tiefer auseinander zusetzen.
Sie sind seit knapp 30 Jahren im Business. Wie schafft man es, seine Leidenschaft für den Beruf zu erhalten? Ich habe es immer als Privileg empfunden, mit dem, was mich erfüllt, meinen Lebensunterhalt zu verdienen. Ich bin jetzt 44 und habe mit 15 meinen ersten Film gedreht. Dass ich überhaupt noch dabei bin und spielen darf, ist ein großes Glück.
Gibt es Produktionen, die Sie eher fürs Herz, die Reputation oder den Geldbeutel annehmen? Auf jeden Fall. Rein fürs Geld mache ich nichts, das kann ich nicht mit mir vereinbaren. Ich habe in der Vergangenheit schon ein paar Projekte abgesagt, bei denen die Gage ordentlich gewesen wäre. Wenn man dann Nein sagt und auflegt, muss man erst mal kurz durchatmen, danach aber habe ich nie wieder an diese Projekte gedacht. Auf der anderen Seite gab es künstlerisch inspirierende Angebote, bei denen man vielleicht bereut hat, nicht dabei gewesen zu sein. Oder andersherum: dass man nach einer Zusage während der Dreharbeiten merkt, dass die Vision des Regisseurs oder der Produzenten nicht mit der eigenen übereinstimmt. Aber genau diese Unvorhersehbarkeit macht den Beruf auch so spannend. Die Rollenauswahl ist wie ein Roulette- oder Lottospiel.
Und wann hat man das richtige Los gezogen? Ich persönlich achte sehr auf das Endergebnis, also den Film an sich. Mir ist das Resultat einfach wichtig. Wenn der Film gut geworden ist, erinnere ich mich später im Leben auch gerne an die Drehzeit zurück. Ich werde heute noch auf „Good Bye, Lenin!“, „Die fetten Jahre sind vorbei“, „Inglourious Basterds“ oder „Rush“ angesprochen, und diese Projekte liegen teilweise wirklich schon lange zurück. Trotzdem bin ich nach wie vor unglaublich stolz darauf, und darüber zu sprechen, macht mich sehr glücklich.
Welche Rolle spielt Geld in Ihrem Leben? Na ja, ich bin froh, dass ich welches habe. Es ist natürlich immer leicht gesagt, dass es nicht nur aufs Geld an kommt. Aber es ist zum Glück nicht meine größte Motivation. So bin ich nicht erzogen worden, und das ändert sich auch nicht mehr. Die Gier nach mehr hat mich noch nie angetrieben. Und trotzdem weiß ich natürlich, dass ich wahnsinniges Glück hatte.
Die Schauspielbranche ist aktuell gesättigt. Wie schafft man es, Regisseure und Produzenten für sich zu begeistern? Eine Fähigkeit, die häufig unterschätzt wird, ist, Nein sagen zu können. Auch wenn es gerade läuft, darf man nicht zu viel machen. Man muss immer spannend bleiben. Und das ist heutzutage gerade durch die sozialen Medien gar nicht so einfach. Ich habe mich vor einigen Jahren überreden lassen, Instagram zu nutzen. Ich habe verstanden, dass man die Leute über andere Kanäle erreichen muss, man muss etwas von sich preisgeben. Aber auch nicht zu viel, sonst geht das Geheimnis um die eigene Person flöten.
Ist das auch Ihr Tipp an jüngere Kollegen, die mit Social Media aufgewachsen sind? Nicht zu viel von sich preiszugeben? Ich wollte Schauspieler werden, weil ich Geschichten erzählen will. Ich will die Menschen damit erreichen, sie neugierig machen, zum Nachdenken anregen, berühren oder abstoßen. Der Beruf des Schauspielers wird nach wie vor häufig aus den falschen Beweggründen gewählt. Wegen des Glamours oder des Ruhms. Wenn das der Grund ist, sollte man es lassen. Es gibt heutzutage ja viele andere Wege, um auf dem roten Teppich zu stehen.
Man sollte es lassen, weil es dem Beruf nicht gerecht wird? Weil so viel mehr dazugehört. Als Schauspieler muss man dickhäutig sein. Man wird permanent beurteilt und lebt in ständiger Unsicherheit, weil man nie weiß, was da noch kommen wird, man lebt in einer Abhängigkeit. Das ist nicht ohne, dafür muss man gewappnet sein. Man muss als Schauspieler dazu in der Lage sein, bei den äußeren Stimmen den Pegel runterzudrehen, um sich selbst noch zu hören. Man braucht definitiv ein dickes Fell, das ist ein psychisch anstrengender Job, darüber muss man sich im Klaren sein.
Für viele ist Schauspiel mit Nacktheit verbunden und mit der Bereitschaft, eigene Wahrheiten und Gefühle preiszugeben. Ist das Spielen vor der Kamera auch immer eine Art Therapie? Viele Kollegen beschreiben es so. Natürlich muss man bereit sein, emotional aufzumachen, und sich immer wieder an sein Innerstes rantasten. Bei diesem ganzen Umgang mit sich selbst und der Aufmerksamkeit, die man als Schauspieler genießt, muss man allerdings auch aufpassen, offen zu bleiben, neugierig zu sein und zu - zuhören. Schauspieler, die nur von sich erzählen, sind sehr anstrengend. (lacht)
Gibt es Rollen, von denen man eine Art Entzugsphase braucht oder bei denen man Angst hat, dass sie einen nachhaltig verändern? Natürlich beschäftigen mich intensivere Rollen auch häufig noch nach der Drehzeit, hallen nach, färben ab. Im besten Fall hat man etwas fürs Leben mitgenommen und schaut anders auf bestimmte Dinge. Man taucht in so viele Gefühlswelten und Lebensrealitäten ein, mit denen man sonst nie in Berührung gekommen wäre. Das ist ja das Aufregendste an meinem Beruf.
Sie sind zweisprachig aufgewachsen und sprechen vier Sprachen fließend. Ein Pluspunkt beim Schauspiel? Ich bin meinen Eltern heute noch sehr dankbar, dass sie mir die Chance boten, mit verschiedenen Kulturen und Sprachen in Berührung zu kommen. Das ist eine totale Bereicherung, die den Kopf und die Augen öffnet. Jede Sprache hat ihre individuelle Stärke. Und es gibt immer Emotionen, die man in der einen Sprache besser ausdrücken kann als in der anderen.
Inwiefern hilft Ihnen dieses Sprachgefühl am Set? Eigentlich kam meine gesamte Karriere durch Sprache ins Rollen. Ich habe mit acht Jahren meine ersten Hörspiele im Radio eingesprochen und war folglich lange nur auf die Stimme reduziert. Bis heute ist das oft der erste Schritt, um mich einer Rolle zu nähern. Ich versuche, mir bewusst zu werden, wie jemand sprechen würde. In welcher Sprache, mit welchem Akzent, mit was für einem Tonfall und Tempo? Wenn ich das dann für mich gefunden habe, macht es klick, und ich weiß, dass ich der Figur ein großes Stück nähergekommen bin.
Werden Sie beim Sprechen der unterschiedlichen Sprachen zu einer anderen Version von sich selbst? Ich selbst bekomme das immer gar nicht so mit, aber mein Umfeld bestätigt das. Wenn man eine andere Sprache spricht, verändert sich automatisch auch die Persönlichkeit, die Haltung und die Körpersprache. Im Spanischen klingt meine Stimme laut meinen Freunden zum Beispiel viel tiefer und maskuliner. (lacht)
Sie sagten in einem Interview, dass es in der Natur des Schauspielers liegt, etwas narzisstisch zu sein. Welche Rolle spielt die Optik in Ihrem Leben? Narzissmus ist ein weites Feld. Häufig vereinnahmt einen der Beruf des Schauspielers so, dass man nicht mehr sieht, dass es da draußen noch andere wichtige Dinge gibt. Da muss man aufpassen, dass man den Bezug zur Außenwelt nicht verliert. Im Alter sollte man auf sich achten, das ist auch wichtig für den Kopf. Ansonsten sieht man eben so aus, wie man aussieht. Mit meinen 1,78 Meter werde ich wohl nicht die erste Wahl für die Rolle eines Basketballers oder eines Türstehers sein. Das ist so, und das kann ich nicht ändern.
Sind Hauptrollen eigentlich immer attraktiver als Nebenrollen? In letzter Zeit habe ich tatsächlich auch einige Nebenrollen angenommen. Man kommt in ein Alter, wo es auch nicht immer die Hauptrolle sein muss. (lacht) Die Prioritäten verschieben sich. Das Zitat: „Es gibt keine kleinen Rollen, nur kleine Schauspieler“, ist vollkommen zutreffend. Zudem hat man mehr Freiraum für sich selbst und die Familie. Nach den letzten Monaten freue ich mich jetzt aber auch wieder auf spannende Hauptrollen.
Man hat das Gefühl, dass die Filmbranche in den südlichen Ländern viel mehr gefeiert wird als in Deutschland. Fehlt Ihnen manchmal dieser Enthusiasmus? Wir Deutschen sind leider nicht wirklich dafür bekannt, uns überschwänglich füreinander zu freuen. Ein bisschen mehr Euphorie und Feierlichkeit würde der Branche mit Sicherheit guttun. Ich komme gerade von einem Projekt aus Boston, und da konnte man am Set solch eine Herzlichkeit und Energie spüren, das ist unglaublich ansteckend. Trotzdem liebe ich Berlin und arbeite nach wie vor sehr gerne in Deutschland, weil wir hier fantastische Leute haben. Ich habe auch meiner Karriere in Deutschland meine ganzen Rollen im Ausland zu verdanken. Mein Ziel ist es, aus Deutschland heraus spannende Geschichten zu erzählen und tolle Filme zu machen, die auch international eine Strahlkraft haben.
Wann sind Sie mit einem Film so richtig zufrieden? Wenn Kritiker ihn loben, Fans die Kinos stürmen oder gibt es ganz persönliche Parameter? Ich bin sehr selbstkritisch. Das heißt, in erster Linie muss ich mit dem Ergebnis glücklich sein. Wenn ich das nicht bin, können die Kritiker tolle Dinge schreiben und die Fans in die Kinos stürmen, und ich habe trotzdem schlechte Laune. Wenn ich allerdings einen Film toll finde und alle anderen nicht, ist das auch nervig. Meine schärfste Kritikerin war und bleibt meine Mutter. Da merke ich auch immer schon direkt am Tonfall, ob sie einen Film wirklich gut findet oder nur so tut. Ich lese mir auch nur noch selten Kritiken durch; außer ich erkenne direkt an der Überschrift, dass sie positiv sind. Negative Kritiken habe ich für den Rest meines Lebens genug gelesen, das bringt mir nichts mehr.
Sind denn immer die guten Filme erfolgreich? Oder gab es Filme, über deren Erfolg Sie sich gewundert haben? Es sind leider auch sehr oft die nicht so tollen Filme, die erfolgreich sind. Aber mittlerweile stört mich das nicht mehr. Solange es nicht irgendwas total Verwerfliches oder Geschmackloses ist, dann ist das doch o. k., wenn es den Leuten gefällt, ich will kein Geschmackspolizist sein. Man sollte dann auch nicht so rumjammern, sondern sich der Herausforderung stellen, die Leute mit etwas Gutem zu erreichen, egal wie schwer das geworden ist.
Und wenn ein Film supererfolgreich wird, für den Sie zuvor eine Rolle abgelehnt haben? Dann freue ich mich auch. Für die ganze Branche. Und vor allem wenn Kollegen oder sogar Freunde mitspielen. Albrecht Schuch zum Beispiel, was der gerade zeigt in all den Filmen, ist so beeindruckend! Oder Felix Kammerer in seiner ersten großen Rolle in „Im Westen nichts Neues“, das haut einen um. Ich muss nur aufpassen, dass ich im Kontakt zu den jüngeren Kollegen nicht schon was zu Väterliches bekomme. (lacht)
Also kein Neid? Überhaupt nicht. Ich finde, wir sollten uns generell von diesem ätzenden Neid befreien, das bringt einen ja nie weiter. Man darf nicht in diese Bitterkeit verfallen, wenn ein eigenes Projekt nicht so aufgegangen ist. Niederlagen gehören dazu. So viel Altersweisheit habe ich mittlerweile erlangt.
Welche Dinge beschäftigen Sie, wenn Sie nicht drehen? Ich bin und werde kein Rafael Nadal, aber ich lasse mit dem Tennis nicht locker. Auf dem Platz wird man dazu gezwungen, nur über den nächsten Ball nachzudenken. Da hat das permanente Dauerrauschen, was sonst im Kopf herrscht, kurz Pause. Neben Kultur und Musik halten mich natürlich auch meine Kinder auf Trab, in jeder Beziehung! Und ich liebe Tapas.
Stimmt. Seit November 2021 sind Sie Botschafter des Welternährungsprogramms der Vereinten Nationen (WFP). Wie hat Sie diese Aufgabe verändert? Die Klimakrise ist kein Blick in die Zukunft mehr, sondern eine tägliche Realität für Millionen Menschen auf der ganzen Welt. Sie verschärft bereits existierende globale Probleme wie Konflikte und die dramatischen Auswirkungen der Pandemie. Ich glaube, es ist unsere gemeinsame Verantwortung, uns für eine Welt ohne Hunger einzusetzen. Ich möchte meinen Teil dazu beitragen und WFP als Botschafter in diesem Kampf unterstützen.
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profeyandere · 11 months
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𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐙𝐋𝐎 𝐊. ─── ☾ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃
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Masterlist || Daniel Brühl Masterlist || Wattpad
Word Count: 2k
Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader
Warning: Angst, panic attack, murders
English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistake and if you can help me improve it, I will greatly appreciate it. I hope you enjoy it :D
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That little building in New York no longer felt like the warm, sweet home he loved so much. Now, everything around him had been covered in a dark thick icy mist that had appeared once he had made sure that you were gone. He didn't expect to be able to blame you for it, either.
Laszlo, no matter how hard he tried to search his innermost thoughts, could not remember having felt such sharp and persistent pain in his life until he finally found the courage to return home and face the situation in which he had found himself. He had become immersed because he was unable to keep his mouth shut and the comments at bay, finding that tragic December night a home that was no longer what he had left that same morning. In the depths of his heart he hoped to see you in the living room, sitting in his armchair or on the soft sofa that characterized the room, with one of his many blankets in your lap while you tried to calm your usual nerves about meeting him again or doing one of the many activities you planned for the afternoons, perhaps reading one of the various astronomy books in which you had shown special interest in recent months with a cup of chamomile to soothe your headaches or trying to finish knitting the dark wool gloves for him with the excuse that even if you didn't like that activity, you wanted him to stay warm enough during the harsh winter that was lashing New York while investigating the latest case he had been involved in, even if he knew that your disgust for the last mentioned activity was a little lie that you had developed over the years and that he had discovered by having seen you smile on more than one occasion while you practiced with Mary a new type of stitch; you always showed a particular distaste for activities that were characteristic of women, but he had learned to observe that you were actually quite content with them and that you could come to appreciate them even if you claimed otherwise.
But now that he had returned home, he felt an emptiness in him, not hearing your playful laugh resonate because of some joke that Stevie had told you, nor could he distinguish your quick and agile steps becoming louder and closer that indicated that you had heard him home, much less was he able to feel the warmth that enveloped his home when you were in it. He noticed the lack of your presence, and it was not necessary to be very intelligent or have a university degree to make sure of it because he only had to analyze himself to realize it; Anguish had been the feeling that had taken over his body, then eliminating the anger that had been controlling him for much of the day.
Laszlo hadn't wanted you to get involved in the case of the missing children, the same ones that days later turned up murdered wherever the maniac who ended their lives wanted to show them. He assumed from the beginning that the scenarios in which he would be involved would be dangerous, after all, they were looking for a murderer, and he knew that the places they would visit would be quite unpleasant judging by what John Moore, his dear friend, had previously described. He just wanted to keep you safe, in the comfort of his home, while he and the small team he had assembled took it upon themselves to put an end to the wave of murders that was causing so much fear in the inhabitants of the splendid American city.
All he did was try to keep you away from the monsters beyond the gates of his home, but he didn't make sure that the most horrible being you had at your side. You had him, and he wasn't able to protect you then.
Tension, nerves, and anxiety had taken over his body, being felt that he was unable to control for not finding a solution to the case on which he was working so hard. He felt devastated for not finding a solution to such a problem, being forced to constantly search and review the same psychology books that he had read so many times and that, on this occasion, were not providing him with the required help. Barely a few days had passed since the death of the first young people belonging to rather unfortunate families was announced, but the desire to end it became more palpable as the hours passed; The only thing the doctor wanted was to end the case with a happy ending, return home as he usually did and hug you, thus eliminating the intrusive thoughts that crowded his mind and that prevented him on many occasions from resting as it should. You, being aware of the latter, had decided to visit Laszlo at his usual place of work to check his state of health.
He would have appreciated your visit on other occasions, he would have felt a familiar tingle once he had seen you open the door of his office to greet him with your loving smile, and he would have watched your bright eyes that would light up more and more as the seconds passed, and you watched him, but at that moment all he saw in you was a distraction he didn't want to deal with; he didn't want to be with you at that moment, and he wanted you to leave as soon as possible. You greeted him excitedly, asking about his day, and soon after you started talking about how worried you were that he was so deep in the case that he wasn't even taking care of himself, which you assumed all along and which is why you asked John and Sarah to take care of him while you weren't around; Although your innocence, concern, and dedication to the doctor could be seen as a blessing in most cases, he just wanted you to shut up at that moment, turn around and go home, he just wanted you to understand what his cold look wanted to tell you, but it was not like that.
You didn't understand him, or you didn't want to, and Laszlo took it out on you.
You saw his shoulders tense as you approached him and his desk, this time lowering your tone of voice as you presumed that a new wave of emotional headaches was at work again in his head. You sighed softly and walked around his desk, positioning yourself on one side of him with the intention of easing that pain by massaging his temples. It was when you finally placed one of your delicate hands on top of his, gently stroking the knuckles of his left hand to calm him down and show your support, that you finally saw how the beast he seemed to have kept hidden finally came out to unleash its full wrath on you. He quickly withdrew his hand from yours, surprising you with the movement and causing you to take a step back to give him some space, then raised your head to meet his gaze with yours, his being the one that flashed with feelings of anger and rage that ran through his body and that was impossible to control. He raised his voice at you in a way you didn't expect, ordering you to get out of his office, leaving you completely shocked by what had just happened and by what you had heard. You tried to refute what he had just told you, asking and begging him to let you stay and letting him know that you wouldn't speak anymore if he required it, but then he started to hurt you with the words that you would have least imagined. You had always had certain limitations in learning, you always recognized that obvious fact, and many times you doubted that your intelligence was the same as that of an average person your age, you had even felt bad enough on several occasions to question yourself if it was enough for Laszlo for that small impairment, but it was his words of encouragement, full of affection and always sincere that made those intrusive thoughts disappear, but now he brought out that insecurity to make you see that perhaps your assumptions were correct; He pointed out how stupid you looked around him and how you tried to keep people from seeing that big flaw of yours through the kindness you showed, trying to make witty comments but only making others laugh at how silly you seemed and that The fact that people were so sweet to you was because they found you as silly as a 3-year-old.
In short: Laszlo confirmed your biggest fear.
From the moment the doctor began to bring up that insecurity, placing special emphasis on what others thought of you, you felt how you stopped hearing from one moment to the next. You could perfectly see your fiancé open and close his mouth, and move his hands to express himself more freely, but it was impossible for you to understand what he was saying due to the feeling of sadness and anxiety that had begun to devastate you. You had heard of anxiety attacks, Laszlo had explained them to you after you had had to calm down one of the many children at school who had sought refuge in you the first time he attended the doctor's therapy, and, now if you were suffering it in the same way that young man suffered then, he made you understand that Laszlo was no longer a safe place for you; he was the one who was causing that to you, and you didn't want that to happen again, you refused.
When Laszlo watched you leave with teary eyes, your chest rising and falling at an alarming rate, and your hands slightly trembling, he knew he hadn't been able to protect you the way he wanted. He had failed you.
Now that he was home, remembering those agonizing minutes you'd suffered, he couldn't help but grit his teeth at the rage he felt at himself, letting out a snort to calm the anxiety that had begun to take over him. With his heart in a fist, he began to walk slowly towards the living room while he prayed that you were waiting for him there, just as he had previously imagined when he had entered his house, but it was not like that. Stopping on the threshold that separated the living room from the hall, he made sure that the vibrant colors that were always in that room were just a product of his imagination because now that you weren't there; everything had taken on grayer and sadder colors, only having a small flash of crimson in the small ring that was on the coffee table in front of the sofa that you always occupied to talk about your busy mornings and afternoons, both of you using that precise moment to appreciate to the other in the way you longed for, but now you weren't there, just the reminder that you were once there.
Laszlo realized that he had lost you forever and there would be no way to get you back.
The house felt cold again and as lonely as it had before I met you.
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bluebirdsboi · 11 months
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MCU Masterlist | Last Updated: 8/13/23
Key
Fluff = 🥰 | Angst = 😢 | Smut = 🥵 | Hurt Comfort = 🩹 Platonic = 🤝 Headcanons = 📝 | ABC Headcanons = 👩‍🏫 | Oneshot = 📘 | Series = 📚 AU = 🌎 | Songfic = 🎵 Male Reader = 💙 | Gender Neutral Reader = 💜 | Female x Female = 💖 Story on hold = ✋| Character on hold = 🔒 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Augustus “Pug” Pugliese (Josh Segarra)
Coming soon... 
Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan)
Coming soon...
Clint Barton (Jeremy Renner)
The New Guy 🥰(🥵) | 📘 | 💙
Dane Whitman (Kit Harington)
Coming soon...
Daniel Sousa (Enver Gjokaj)
Coming soon...
Druig (Barry Keoghan)
Coming soon...
Frank Castel (Jon Bernthal) | 🔒
Coming soon...
Grant Ward (Brett Dalton)
Coming soon...
Helmut Zemo (Daniel Brühl)
Coming soon..
Howard Stark (Dominic Cooper)
Coming soon...
Ikaris (Richard Madden)
Coming soon...
Jack Russell (Gael García Bernal)
Coming soon...
Joaquín Torres (Danny Ramirez)
Coming soon...
Kingo (Kumail Nanjiani)
Coming soon...
Leo Fitz (Iain De Caestecker)
Coming soon...
Marc Spector (Oscar Isaac)
He Won’t Have You 🥵🩹 | 📘 | 💙
Solace 🩹 | 📘 | 💙
Matt Murdock (Charlie Cox) | 🔒
Coming soon...
Namor (Tenoch Huerta Mejía)
Coming soon...
N’Jadaka (Killmonger) (Michael B. Jordan)
Coming soon...
Peter Parker (Tobey Maguire | Andrew Garfield | Tom Holland)
Coming soon...
Peter Quill (Chris Pratt)
Coming soon...
Pietro Maximoff (Aaron Taylor-Johnson)
Coming soon...
Quentin Beck (Jake Gyllenhaal)
Coming soon...
Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie)
Coming soon...
Scott Lang (Paul Rudd)
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Stephen Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch)
Coming soon...
Steve Rogers (Chris Evans)
Coming soon...
Steven Grant (Oscar Isaac)
Coming soon...
T’Challa (Chadwick Boseman)
Coming soon...
Thor Odinson (Chris Hemsworth)
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Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.)
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Xu Shang-Chi (Simu Liu)
Coming soon...
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doetic · 1 year
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// Request info
Please keep in mind I only write AFAB she/her readers and use things such as y/n, h/c, etc... with an emphasis on dark/yandere fics. If you are on desktop and don't like the use of y/n, use the chrome extension "interactivefics" to replace it. As an indigenous person I will always do my best to keep the appearance and race of the reader insert as vague as possible. If there's anything I can do better in that sense please let me know!
What I will/wont write:
Bold and italicized = things I enjoy writing the most, these things will often get priority when requested.
// Will
Dark/yandere fics
Smut (bsdm or otherwise)
Fluff
Angst
Platonic
Romantic
Poly
Sequels to any fic I've posted
// Wont
Ageplay
Underage age gap
Incest
Graphic drug use
Fandoms/Characters I write for:
Bold and italicized = characters I enjoy writing the most, they will often get priority when requested. The character list is flexible, if there's someone from a fandom here that you want to request, feel free to ask.
// Twilight
Edward Cullen
Carlisle Cullen
Jasper Hale
Emmett Cullen
Jacob Black
Leah Clearwater
Rosalie Hale
Alice Cullen
Charlie Swan
// MCU
Steve Rogers
Bucky Barnes
Helmut Zemo
John Walker
Lemar Hoskins
// GTA IV
Michael De Santa
Trevor Philips
// Skyrim
Mercer Frey
Ulfric Stormcloak
Farkas
Vilkas
// Resident Evil
Leon Kennedy
// You
Joe Goldberg
// Gossip Girl
Chuck Bass
Blair Waldorf
Serena Van Der Woodsen
Nate Archibald
Dan Humphrey
// Ace Attorney
Phoenix Wright
Miles Edgeworth
// Batman
Joker (Heath Ledger)
Bruce Wayne (Bale, Rpatt, Affleck)
The Riddler (Dano)
// My Hero Academia
Shota Aizawa
Katsuki Bakugo
Enji Todoroki
Hitoshi Shinso
// Scream
Stu Macher
Billy Loomis
// Fairy Tail
Laxus Dreyar
Gray Fullbuster
// Assorted Brühl
Jan
Niki Lauda
Alex Kerner
// RPF
Jschlatt
Penguinz0
Pewdiepie
Daniel Bruhl
Gerard Way
Ted Nivison
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ao3feed-evanstan · 2 years
Text
Hello, Goodbye
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/mDvrYk6
by LadybugDreamer
Chris and Sebastian were the Quarterback and Cheerleading Captain all through highschool. They were lovebirds. They were in love. And they were idiots in love.
Because they let one thing break them up.
Brock-fucking-Rumlow. Who thought he was so charming with all the Omegas. He broke the cheerleader and the quarterback up. Because he wanted the only Omega who didn't want him. He wanted Sebastian Stan. With a wide variety of nicknames he could call him, Sebby, Seb, and Sasha. His Sasha.
And he got Sasha.
And Chris went off to college. Without Sebastian.
And Sebastian threw away his dreams of becoming an actress away.
But then, fifteen years later, Chris shows back up in town. To be the Football coach at Westbrook high.
Will Chris and Sebastian rekindle what they once had?
Words: 627, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: M/M
Characters: Chris Evans (Actor), Dodger | Chris Evans' Dog, Sebastian Stan, Original Child Character(s), Anthony Mackie, Scarlett Johansson, Elizabeth "Lizzie" Olson, Jeremy Renner, Robert Downey Jr., Zoe Saldana, Daniel Brühl, Scott Evans (Actor), Lisa Evans, Brie Larson, Brock Rumlow, Other Character Tags to Be Added
Relationships: Chris Evans/Sebastian Stan, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Anthony Mackie/Elizabeth Olsen, Scarlett Johansson/Brie Larson, Robert Downey Jr./Jeremy Renner, Sebastian Stan/ Brock Rumlow
Additional Tags: Alpha Chris Evans, Omega Sebastian Stan, Alpha Anthony Mackie, Omega Elizabeth Olson, Alpha Scarlett Johansson, Omega Brie Larson, Alpha Robert Downey JR., Omega Jeremy Renner, Alpha Wyatt Russel, Beta Zoe Saldana, Beta Daniel Bruhl, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omegaverse, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Romance, Boys In Love, Idiots in Love, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, I've never written about the Actors of MCU, So I'm trying, please bear with me, this might be terrible, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Zoe Saldana is a good bro, Daniel Bruhl is a good bro, I didn't want to use any real-life-kind actors as mean people, so once again, I am raking Brock Rumlow through the mud, Alternate Universe- Omegaverse, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, sorta - Freeform, They're soulmates, but it's not fantasy, Sebastian Stan has pups, Because he genes cannot be waisted, There's not terrible abuse, But Brock is a manipulative asshole, and he manipulates Sebastian, Sebastian will be refered to by a few names, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author Is Not Religious, But some of the characters are, The Author Regrets Nothing, Cheating, But Brock sucks, So it doesn't matter, Past Underage Sex, but they were both underage, And in love
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/mDvrYk6
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inkblotm · 2 years
Text
WinterBaron fic!
This is my first fanfiction work posted. Go read it! 😗
Love was something else. Love comes with shaky breaths and soothing touches. It is hard to love, but it is harder to stop loving. It puts your body in flames but you don’t burn. As flames flow you become flames, and fire you will be.
But a romantic partnership was unthinkable for Zemo. The sole thought of having an interest was a joke.
Apparently he was wrong.
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This fic navigates Zemos feelings on different parts of tfatws. There's angst and more angst and I'm not sorry.
All hail Daniel Brühl!
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lorna-d-m · 1 year
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I posted 2,720 times in 2022
156 posts created (6%)
2,564 posts reblogged (94%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@scuttle-buttle
@rosemaremembrance
@anteroom-of-death
@nbraraeaves
@unleashed111
I tagged 1,072 of my posts in 2022
#daniel brühl - 548 posts
#personal - 100 posts
#laszlo kreizler - 65 posts
#the alienist - 58 posts
#daniel brühl fanfic - 51 posts
#helmut zemo fanfiction - 48 posts
#daniel brühl fanfiction - 44 posts
#helmut zemo fanfic - 40 posts
#helmut zemo - 38 posts
#zemo - 37 posts
Longest Tag: 131 characters
#anyway the way you did this was fantastic as always uplifting and reaffirming all bodies while being incredibly sweet and seductive
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Chapter Five: The Docks
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Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Fem!OC
Summary: Captain Zemo roams the high seas thirsting for revenge, and instead, he stumbles upon the shipwrecked and left for dead Mary Spencer. As the sole survivor, Captain Zemo takes her aboard his ship, the Bloody Baron. Engaged to an English Admiral, Mary Spencer wants nothing more than to return home and live the life she was born for. That is, of course, until she realizes what life can be aboard the Bloody Baron with the Captain himself.
Word Count: 5,827
W: Mild language, age gap, angst, alcohol consumption, slight body shaming and slut shaming
A/N: This was originally going to be one very large chapter, but I have decided to split it in two for readability and time. Once again, note that I’ve moved Sokovia’s location and made it a Germanic language. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or fill out the form on my pinned masterpost. Thank you so much!
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32 notes - Posted February 21, 2022
#4
Chapter Four: A Bottle of Rum
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Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Fem!OC
Summary: Captain Zemo roams the high seas thirsting for revenge, and instead, he stumbles upon the shipwrecked and left for dead Mary Spencer. As the sole survivor, Captain Zemo takes her aboard his ship, the Bloody Baron. Engaged to an English Admiral, Mary Spencer wants nothing more than to return home and live the life she was born for. That is, of course, until she realizes what life can be aboard the Bloody Baron with the Captain himself.
Word Count: 5.9k
W: Mild language, age gap, some angst, alcohol consumption, violence (Zemo is a pirate), blood
A/N: My goal is to build as much tension as I can, so feel free to assassinate me if you want. Once again, note that I’ve moved Sokovia’s location and made it a Germanic language. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or fill out the form on my pinned masterpost. I think the previous link had an issue, but I've fixed it. :) Thank you so much!
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34 notes - Posted January 27, 2022
#3
Chapter Three: Helmut
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Summary: Captain Zemo roams the high seas thirsting for revenge, and instead, he stumbles upon the shipwrecked and left for dead Mary Spencer. As the sole survivor, Captain Zemo takes her aboard his ship, the Bloody Baron. Engaged to an English Admiral, Mary Spencer wants nothing more than to return home and live the life she was born for. That is, of course, until she realizes what life can be aboard the Bloody Baron with the Captain himself.
Word Count: 6k
W: Mild language, age gap, some angst, alcohol consumption
A/N: This chapter went through several idea changes, so I apologize that it took longer. Once again, note that I've moved Sokovia's location and made it a Germanic language. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or fill out the form on my pinned masterpost. Thank you so much!
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35 notes - Posted January 11, 2022
#2
Chapter Eight: Vows
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Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Fem!OC
Summary: Captain Zemo roams the high seas thirsting for revenge, and instead, he stumbles upon the shipwrecked and left for dead Mary Spencer. As the sole survivor, Captain Zemo takes her aboard his ship, the Bloody Baron. Engaged to an English Admiral, Mary Spencer wants nothing more than to return home and live the life she was born for. That is, of course, until she realizes what life can be aboard the Bloody Baron with the Captain himself.
Word Count: 8,731
W: language, violence, drinking, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), vaginal penetration. No stated use of birth control but wrap it before you tap it folks.
A/N: Little announcement, I will be going on a trip later this month, so there may be a delay for chapter nine. I do, however, have a one shot I can post if it takes too long. I have also decided on a modern au for Laszlo Kreizler as my next fic.
Once again, note that I’ve moved Sokovia’s location and made it a Germanic language. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or fill out the form on my pinned masterpost. Thank you so much!
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39 notes - Posted June 1, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Chapter Six: Sunrise
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Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Fem!OC
Summary: Captain Zemo roams the high seas thirsting for revenge, and instead, he stumbles upon the shipwrecked and left for dead Mary Spencer. As the sole survivor, Captain Zemo takes her aboard his ship, the Bloody Baron. Engaged to an English Admiral, Mary Spencer wants nothing more than to return home and live the life she was born for. That is, of course, until she realizes what life can be aboard the Bloody Baron with the Captain himself.
Word Count: 5,298
W: Mild language, age gap, angst, alcohol consumption, slight body shaming and slut shaming
A/N: Finally, I can release this. Chapters Five and Six were going to be one chapter, but that would have been about 11,000 words and taken much longer, so I split it up. I hope y'all enjoy! Once again, note that I’ve moved Sokovia’s location and made it a Germanic language. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or fill out the form on my pinned masterpost. Thank you so much!
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40 notes - Posted March 13, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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babybluebex · 3 years
Text
𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔡𝔬𝔠𝔱𝔬𝔯 𝔨𝔯𝔢𝔦𝔷𝔩𝔢𝔯 - a laszlo kreizler fanfiction
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𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 | during the investigation into the murders that rock high society new york city, you become acquainted and close to a german-hungarian alienist with a big heart and a dark secret. dr. laszlo kreizler has the ability to open doors for the woman he loves, but, where one door opens, others slam shut forever. 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 | dr. laszlo kreizler (the alienist, 2018- ) x fem!reader (y/n) 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 | tbd 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 | SPOILERS FOR THE ALIENIST SEASON 1, smut, explicit language, depictions of violence, graphic description of injuries, misogyny, pregnancy, childbirth, 𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖋𝖞 𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖐 | https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6Tsk0HjbOVAXJU9xhFznqP?si=28e459de8c4548ed
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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘
chapter 1: many a sainted man (4.8k words)
chapter 2: book of revelations (3.3k words)
chapter 3: o come, all ye faithful (5.6k words)
chapter 4: sufferings of the present (2.8k words)
chapter 5: evil begets good (3.4k words)
epilogue (2.7k words)
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wayward-mikaelson · 3 years
Text
Something Just Like This (AU!Daniel Brühl x F! Reader)
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Word Count: 9219
About: Your father takes on a business partner, who captures your eye and makes your Ex jealous.
Pairing: AU!Daniel Brühl x F! Reader
Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Language, Jealous Ex, Angst, Some Sexual Content (Touching and boob grabbing), Implied Smut, Daniel talking in both German and Spanish,
MINORS DO NO INTERACT
A/N: I wrote this for my dear friend @saturdaynightzemo. I got too carried away with the word count but it's okay. There also maybe a part two later on down the road.
**This work is written for the 18 and up crowd so please read at your own discretion. This work is also crossed posted on other sites under the same title. Please do not copy and paste my work anywhere, sharing the links and re-blogs are perfectly fine. Linktree to my other social media sites are in the link in my bio. Feedback is welcome!**
German/Spanish Pet Name Translation
*Liebling--Darling
*Wonderschönen--Beautiful
*Querida--Darling
*meine liebe--my love
*scheiße--Fuck
*Mi Querida--My Darling
French/Italian Translations
*Un Peu des deux--A little bit of both
*Il mio italiano è un po' arrugginito--My Italian is a bit rusty
Forever Tag: @hobby27 @donnaintx @myinconnelly1 @elansaidaris @magssteenkamp @440mxs-wife
Zemo/Daniel Tags: @saturdaynightzemo @dailybruhlfic
Masterlist
It wasn’t the sound of the car that made you turn your head. Oh no, you were practically immune to those sounds, living at the tracks your whole life. It wasn’t even the color of it either. You’ve seen enough cherry red cars to last you a lifetime. It was a nice color and the shine of the wax really shined, but after a while the color just sort of faded into life itself. Just like many other things at the track.
It was the driver that stepped out of the polished car that caused you to stop in your tracks. He wore a grey suit that shined bright in the sunlight. His hair wasn’t as long as all the other drivers you knew that passed through here. It was brushed back, away from his eyes. Oh and those eyes, they looked over his entire surroundings. His beard was just an added bonus. You had a thing for bearded men.
He was new and every pair of eyes, including yours, watched as he walked into the building. No doubt to your fathers office. This man looked like he meant business. Before the mysterious man walked into the building, he turned and looked around again, this time those eyes landed on you for a brief moment. Making you instantly drop your gaze to the bucket of water at your feet.
“Who is that?” you turned to see Finn, your ex, was standing next to you.
Finn and you dated for a few years in and out of high school. It wasn’t until you were almost done with college that you saw that the two of you drifted. For you it was the perfect time to figure out who you were and who you wanted to be. Finn, of course, agreed to the split. Both of you thought it would be temporary, but you soon learned that you no longer loved Finn like that. That was three years ago.
“I have no idea,” You shook your head and went back to your job. Which was washing the cars for today’s photoshoot. “I’m sure I’ll find out later at dinner.”
“Speaking of dinner,” Finn grabbed a sponge and started to help you. “Your mother invited me. I said yes cause she said she was making her famous lasagna. I hope you don’t mind.”
You shook your head. You didn’t mind it but you knew that your mother was trying to set you and Finn up again. Your mother loved Finn and missed having him over more when the two of you were together. She just couldn’t get it through her head that you and Finn were over and nothing could change that.
“No, I don’t mind at all,” you straightened up and turned to Finn. Finn’s ginger hair hung around his face. “You know you never have to ask me if it’s okay. You’re practically family.”
When Finn was thirteen, his father died of cancer. It was a really hard time for both Finn’s family and your father. Your father was really good friends with Finn's father and on his deathbed, your father promised to look after Finn as if he were his own son.
Finn stood up and by the look on his face, you knew what he was going to say. “I can be more than practically family, Y/N.”
You turned away from him. “Finn, we’ve talked about this many times. I don’t feel that way anymore about you. Please stop. We’re better as friends.” You turned to him to see him nodding. Finn dumped the sponge back into the water and left. Over the last few years, Finn had tried desperately to get you back. He has never dated anyone else and you don’t want to know how he even relieved himself. If he did.
You had one other sexual partner after Finn and that was a weekend fling in Spain. You never called the poor guy when you got home. But God was the sex good. Like out of a work of fiction good. The things that man had done to your body, things that Finn would never do or didn’t know how to do.
You went about the rest of your day like normal. All the cars got washed in time for the photoshoot, which also went smoothly. You had lunch with Bea, one of the girls in the back offices. She talked of nothing but the stranger that was still at the track. Apparently your father was showing him around the place.
“And the accent,” Bea’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. “It’s to die for. Makes me tingle each time I think of it.”
You chuckled a bit, “I’ll take your word for it.” The way Bea talked about this man, you wanted to meet him and hear the accent. “Is your neighbor still single?”
Bea’s head perked up faster than anything. “Yeah, she’s still single. Why? No wait, let me guess Finn?” You nodded. “I’ll see what kind of magic I can cook up. He really needs to learn that it’s over.” And you couldn’t agree more.
By the time closing came around, you took care of tidying up the track and making sure bags were tied up for morning trash pick up. You found it easier for the morning cleaning crew to just grab the bags. Just as you were tying up the last bag, Finn approached you.
“I’m about to take off,” he leaned up against the side by side you drove around the track. “Would you like a ride back to your house?”
“Um,” you looked over your shoulder and saw that the mysterious man's car was still here. He had been here all day and part of you wanted to know why. “Let me check in with Dad and see what his plan is. He’s been with that man all day.”
You made your way to your fathers office and one little peak said that he was in the middle of a conversation. You were about to turn until your father saw you and waved you in. You waltzed in and noticed the man on your fathers leather office sofa. You froze in place as this man’s eyes looked you over. Not quickly like any normal person, oh no. This man’s eyes slowly took in your whole appearance. You knew you looked like a hot mess so what did this man see? Even you let your eyes wander over the man’s appearance. He still wore the grey suit, but the coat was undone. He sat back on the couch with both arms spread out on the back. His ankle was resting on his knee that seemed to bounce a little. You noticed he had some curls and one stray curl dangled in front of his face. Then you noticed his eye color. A chocolate brown that still bore deep into you. It was like he was looking deep into your soul.
“Sorry,” you tore your eyes away from the man and looked back at your father. You swore you could still feet those dark eyes on you. It made your heart pound a bit. “I was just wondering if I’m still riding home with you or if I should ride with Finn.”
Your father stood up and crossed over to you. “Ride with Finn, dear. I’ll be home hopefully in time for your mothers cooking. You know how she gets if any one of us is late.” Your father chuckled lightly, pulling a smile from you. “Also, I want you to meet this gentleman here.” Your father slightly turned you around to face the man, who was now standing. He was pretty tall compared to your small figure.
“Daniel Brühl,” he held out his hand. Damn, Bea was right about the accent. You felt your knees get a little weak as you took a step towards him. You were thankful that your father still held onto your shoulders or you really would have fallen onto the floor and looked like an idiot.
“Y/N,” you took hold of his hand and the grip nearly caused your knees to buckle. They were rough and calloused, something many business men that come through here don’t have. They are almost always moisturized and smooth. But Daniel’s hand’s felt like he’s worked with them for years. It was a pleasurable feeling.
“Y/N?” Daniel smiled and that made you press your thighs together. You prayed that Daniel or your father wouldn’t have noticed. “A beautiful name,” You instantly felt arousal form deep within your core at the sound of your name rolling off this stranger's lips. You wanted to melt instantly. But you kept your composure and remained professional.
“Thank you,” you managed to get out putting your hands behind your back once Daniel let go of yours.
“Daniel here,” your father walked back towards his desk. You noticed that your father’s french accent was creeping in. This happened when he spoke a lot of French. “He’s a tough kid to bargain with.”
“And you sir,” Daniel sat back down and ran his hands over his dark beard. You wondered what it felt like. “Are a hard man to negotiate with and I’ve had some hard ones. You are the smarter one.”
With that, you said your goodbyes and went out to where Finn had been waiting. You got into his small little beat up sedan and began the drive back to your family home. You didn’t live at home, you had a small apartment about five minutes from the track. But on nights like this where your mother wants to get the family together, you stay in your own room. Or if you drank too much you always stayed the night knowing that was safer. Tonight might be one of those nights where you stay the night there since Finn was joining for dinner.
***
“Momma,” You called from the dining room. You began to set up the table and there was an extra plate and such. “You gave me an extra place setting.”
“No, no I didn’t,” your mothers thick Italian accent came around the corner. She held a dish towel in her hand and you instantly were brought back to your childhood. “Your father is bringing someone from work. Plus, I always make plenty of food for everyone.” Your mother lived a majority of her life in the States, but never lost her accent.
You shrugged your shoulders and set the place, wondering who your father was bringing to dinner. Once the house was clean and the table was all set to your mother’s standards, you went to shower and freshen up. You dressed in a nice burgundy blouse and skinny jeans. You put on a pair of beige sandals that are strapped up to the bottom of your calf. You threw your hair into a messy bun and let a few strands of hair fall out. Then you dried your face and threw on very little makeup to make you look like you weren’t tired.
Very rarely, your father came home with someone from work. But when he did, you made sure to make yourself presentable. You were, after all, representing your family when someone from work came to the family home. Something you owed your family for putting up with your stubborn ass for twenty-seven long years.
You found yourself back in the kitchen. Your mother wouldn’t let you touch her cooking and you couldn’t blame her. You weren’t that great of a cook, something that you got from your father. In a way you were more like your father than you were your mother. Something your mother was okay with. But your mother did enjoy the fact that you and her would sit for hours hand sewing blankets for women and children shelters for the winter.
You pulled a beer from the fridge and cracked it open. Before the glass bottle hit your lips your mother was pulling it away from you. “Momma!” You half whined.
“I will not have you getting drunk before your father and his guest gets here,” your mother scolded you.
“I wasn’t going to get drunk, Momma,” you took the beer from her thin hands. “I was only pre-gaming just in case I don’t like him and need to tell him or her to kindly fuck off.”
“Y/N Y/M/N!” Your mother’s gasps had you quickly leaving the kitchen. You knew that if you stayed any longer, the kitchen towel would end up being used on you and not some random beer spill.
The door opened and closed and soon you were able to hear some voices. Finn’s voice was very distinct, it was a bit louder than your Italian-French family. You made your way towards the foyer to great your father and his guest, yes with beer in hand so they knew that you wouldn’t give a fuck later on. But the moment you entered the foyer, the beer bottle slipped from your hands and crashed to the ground. Luckily the bottle didn’t break but you spilled a good deal on the tile floor.
“I’m so sorry,” you dropped down quickly and picked up the bottle and grabbed the towel that Finn, somehow or somewhere grabbed, and cleaned up the spill you made. “I came to say hello. I don’t know what happened.” You rambled on, trying not to make eye contact with your fathers guest. A guest you didn’t know would step foot into your childhood home.
Daniel.
“I told her, Alexandre,” Your mother came around the corner drying her hands. “I told her not to drink before you guys got here.”
“Momma!” You stood up and stared at her. Part of you was embarrassed and the other part was just flat out wanting to be smited out of existence. “This was...I just...I barely drank it.”
“Then why did you drop it?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips.
“Because I have butter fingers, Momma.” Which was a lie. You knew exactly why you dropped it but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of the guest.
Dinner went as well as you could have imagined it going. No one focused on you nor Finn, which was a bit surprising for you. Your mother used to always keep most of the attention on Finn. But with Daniel, all the focus was on him. You probably thought it was because Daniel was new to the mix. No one knew him.
Nope.
“I don’t know how it happened,” your fathers French accent was making more of an appearance tonight. He must have spoken a lot of French. “But, young Daniel here, talked me into making him a partner.” Your father raised a glass towards Daniel and everyone followed suit. You quickly glanced at Daniel to see his eyes focused on your father. A genuine smile on his face. “To Daniel. May we have an amazing and thriving business relationship.” With that everyone toasted and resumed dinner.
After dinner, you stood on the balcony and smoked a cigarette. You rarely smoke but tonight you felt the need to put one in your mouth. As you took a long drag, you heard the door open and close. You didn’t look behind you to see who it was. You thought it was Finn trying to talk to you or get into your pants. Or both. Who knew with him anymore?
“Tonight is nice,” the voice called to you. The accent sent chills down your back and right to your core. You were lucky that you kept one of your fun toys here. You were definitely going to need it.
You turned to see Daniel walking his way towards you. A beer in his hands and an unopened one in the other. “Yeah,” you answered, giving him a smile. “It’s really nice. What brings you out here? I’m sure my Dad has a lot to talk to you about?”
Daniel shook his head and smiled. That smile sent an electric shock through your body. It was pure and sweet. “Your father and I, we took care of a lot of things today. He was pretty stubborn but saw the benefits of having a partner and took it.” He handed you the beer and you took it without question.
You smiled. “My father is a very stubborn man, I’m glad he worked something out with you. But,” you turned back to look at the city skyline. Gosh it was beautiful. Your parents picked out a lovely spot to call home. “My Dad, he knew he needed help from someone that wasn’t family. He’s just been putting it off.”
Daniel stood next to you. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “I’m sure this might be hard on your brother.”
You choked on the breath you were going to take for the next drag. “What? Finn?” You couldn’t help but laugh next. “That’s a first. Finn isn’t my brother. I’m an only child.”
Daniel looked at you. It made you wonder what was going on in his head. He turned to his side and let smoke blow out his nose. Fuck, it was hot. You turned away to gain some kind of composure. But mostly press your legs together. If your parents and Finn weren’t here, you’d probably jump the man already.
“Really?” Daniel asked, taking a look towards you.
“Yeah,” You answered, taking the final drag of your cigarette. “Finn is actually my ex. He’s been coming to family dinners and such since we were in middle school after his dad died.” You tried to think back to when you first met Finn. Was it kindergarten? It had been so long ago. “My mom considers him family so he hangs around still.”
“I see,” Daniel gave you a mysterious smirk. You wondered what it meant. “Will I see you tomorrow?” Something in those dark eyes of his hooked into you.
The question caught you off guard. You fumbled with the cigarette butt until it fell over the balcony edge and into the ravine. You prayed the butt didn’t start any kind of fire. “Fuck, um,” you rubbed your head with your left hand. “Yeah, I don’t work too much alongside my Dad. I do a lot of the grunt work. Not because I have to but because I like to, if that makes sense.” You turned to see Daniel staring at you. Those dark eyes seem to be peering right into your soul now. If only you could read the mind of the stranger in front of you.
“That does make sense,” Daniel grinned at you again. This time you grinned back. “I noticed your mother speaks Italian and your father French? Do you speak some?”
You smiled. “Un peu des deux.” Then as best as you could say it, “Il mio italiano è un po' arrugginito.”
Daniel nodded his head and grinned. “Not bad,” he finished his cigarette and puts out the butt.
“Y/N?” Finn's voice brought you out of the cloud your head rested in. You turned to see him standing, with his arms crossed. His eyes were staring at Daniel, not yours. You could see the hint of jealousy in them. The attention you gave to Daniel, it seemed like Finn didn’t like it. Finn probably thought he was entitled to it. But you didn’t care. “Your dad wants to see you.”
You turned back to Daniel who looked Finn over and then turned back to you. “Your ex doesn’t look very happy,” he whispered. “Could it be that you’re talking to someone that isn’t him?” Daniel raised an eyebrow. It was like he knew after one look at Finn.
You stifled a laugh, “Unfortunately, who knows with him.” You pushed off of the railing, “If you’ll excuse me.”
The talk with your father wasn’t exactly what you were thinking. It was smooth, as all other talks with him went, but he only had one request. To show Daniel the ins and outs of life on the track. According to him, Daniel was a very hands on type of guy. Which could explain the roughness of his hand when you shook them earlier that day. You could still feel them hours later.
“You’re okay with this?” your father asked softly. “I can always have Finn do this, if you don’t want to.”
“No no no,” you quickly shook your head. “I can do it. I really should be stepping up more, for when the day comes when I need to take over. You know?” You look at your father with what felt like the eyes of a small child. Your father was getting up there in age and you hated the idea that one day you may lose him.
“I do, sweetheart," your father stood up from his chair and rubbed his hands together. "I appreciate you doing this. I really wouldn't be thrilled if I had to have Finn do it. I don't necessarily trust him with a man like Daniel around." You tilted your head to the side and wondered what your father meant. "He's been slacking on his work a lot recently and no amount of talking has helped. Not to mention the looks he gave our guest tonight."
Your eyes widened some, you forgot your father saw more than anyone realized. Kind of like you. "What will you do with him?" You asked.
"One more talk and if nothing changes, I'll let him go." Your father looked down. "Breaking a promise to an old friend. But my business comes first."
"Don't worry, dad," you walked towards him and pecked him on the cheek. "I got this."
When it was time for Daniel to head out, you stood by your father. You wished you had more time with Daniel. He was a lovely person to talk to and you wanted to know more about him. As you all said your goodbyes, you gave Daniel a smile. A smile that he returned and gently took your hand in his and planted a soft kiss to it. His dark eyes didn’t leave yours. His lips were soft and you wondered what they would feel like against yours. You felt your face burn up and watched as Daniel did the same to your mother. From the corner of your eye, you saw Finn glaring at Daniel. The look in his eyes didn’t look friendly and when they swept over to you, it sent a chill down your spine.
***
Over the next couple of months, you taught Daniel the ins and outs of the track. You showed him what was easy and most effective at getting the job done. Like your closing up routine of tying the bags up for the morning clean up crew. Daniel was an excellent learner and listener and that made you feel great. You thought that you were a crappy teacher and you told him that. But Daniel shushed you and told you that you were doing great.
The time that you had spent together, you got to know him as well. While you taught him the ins and outs, the two of you talked about life. You learned that Daniel was born in Spain but grew up in Germany. He lived in a bilingual home so he was very well versed in both Spanish and German. That really intrigued you and later on you were turned on when you heard him say a few phrases. Phrases you committed to memory when you wanted to think about his voice.
When you weren’t with Daniel you were either with Bea having lunch or stuck with Finn. The days you were stuck with Finn, you wanted nothing more than to shove a sock in his mouth and tell him to just shut the hell up. Finn wouldn’t stop talking negatively about Daniel. It was “Daniel can’t do this” or “Daniel can’t just waltz in here and change things.”
“For the love of God, Finn,” you finally snapped at him one afternoon. The two of you were working on an old car that needed repairs. “Can you fucking shut up? Daniel is a partner, meaning with the contract he and Dad drew up, he’s also part owner. So he can do whatever the fuck he wants here. Which also means he can change up whatever he can.”
Finn stopped what he was doing. “Why are you so defensive of the guy?”
“I’m not,” you huffed as you tightened a bolt. “I’m simply stating facts. Facts that you have chosen to ignore. Speaking of ignoring things?” You wiped your hands on a towel. “Have you taken that order out?”
Finn shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.”
You sighed. “Finn!” you practically yelled his name. “That order needed to go out like two days ago! Why? You know what,” you calmed yourself down and placed your hands on your hips. “I’ll take care of it but, you go home and when you come back on Monday, you will be handling the front desk for a week.”
Finn snorted. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Y/N. You’re not the boss.”
“True,” you walked towards him and pressed a finger into his chest. “But when Dad isn’t here, I take over. You should count yourself lucky, anyway, since Dad isn’t here. He’s this close to firing you. So go home and come back with a work ethic like Dad’s or Daniel’s.”
Finn held up his hands and walked away. “Fine. Whatever.”
The rest of the morning had been a blur. Daniel and you talked about more ways to make the work life at the track even more smooth. Daniel came up with really good ideas that you liked. Once you guys agreed to something, you guys noted it down and put it on your father’s desk. You always wanted to make sure that your father also agreed before changing something. Daniel agreed as well.
“Do you have anything planned this weekend?” Daniel asked you as the two of you went down the inventory checklist. The question didn’t necessarily catch you off guard. You and Daniel were at the point in your work relationship to ask what the other was up to for the evening or the weekend.
“Nothing really?” you resumed your counting of paper towels. “What about you? Have anything planned this weekend? Or will you be as boring as me and do nothing?”
“Y/N, you are never boring,” Daniel's voice was calm and gentle. You turned to him and saw the most charming smile on his face. It nearly made your knees weak. “In fact,” Daniel set his clipboard down and crossed over to you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders. The firm but gentle grip alone made your brain fuzzy. Does this man know the effect he has on you? “You are one of the best people here. Which is why I wanted to ask if you wanted to go to dinner tomorrow evening?”
Now that question took you by surprise. Suddenly the hands that were resting on your shoulder felt extremely heavy and the dark chocolate eyes that looked into yours, well they were holding you in place. The corner of the left side of his lip twitched up into a small crooked smile. It was cute, sweet and it made your heart swell. You knew there was a good age gap between the two of you but right now that didn’t matter to you.
“Sure,” you smiled as you answered him. You felt your face grow warm and you didn’t care if Daniel saw that. You just took in the huge smile he gave you.
“Wonderful,” Daniel licked his lips and dropped his hands. You watched as he rubbed them together as he always does. His left hand gripped his right thumb. “I’ll make reservations for tomorrow and pick you up at seven?”
You smiled and reached out for Daniel’s arm before he left the area. “I’m not staying with my parents, so you’ll have to pick me up at my apartment.” You scribbled your address on the paper and handed it to him. You watched as he smiled even more as he looked down at the paper.
“Your apartment complex is right across from mine,” Daniel’s look at you had your face burn a tad bit more. “Probably meant to be.” Daniel winked at you and walked out of sight. Leaving you to wonder if that encounter actually happened and not you daydreaming it happened.
Your lunch with Bea was exactly how you pictured it. Once you told her about your dinner with Daniel, her entire face just lit up and she squealed lightly. You listened to her ramble on and on about how some of the older women have tried to score a date with Daniel. But according to Bea, Daniel would let them down softly.
“Where is he taking you?” Bea was practically bouncing by the time the two of you got back to the track.
“He didn’t say,” you answered. You were curious but you wanted it to be a surprise. “All he said was that he was going to make reservations.”
“I bet it’s somewhere nice,” Bea’s sing-song voice made your heart flutter and skip a few beats. This was the first date you had been on in years. Since, Finn took you out to the pizzeria in high school. “Wait,” Bea turned with an eyebrow raised. “What if he’s a murderer and you’re just his type?” Bea air quoted the words his type.
“Bea,” you laughed and shook your head. “You watch way too many crime documentaries. But,” you placed your hand on her shoulder and smiled. “If I do go missing I want you to be the one to write my story for Netflix.”
Bea smiled. “You’re a great friend. Just keep me updated so I don’t have to do that.”
You watched as Bea walked away and when you turned around you saw Finn standing a few feet from where you stood. The look on his face pretty much said that he had listened to yours and Bea’s conversation.
“I thought I told you to go home?” You placed your hands on your hips and stared at Finn. “Why are you back here?”
Finn took a deep breath and turned around and began to walk away. You weren’t going to have any of that, and if it were your father, you knew that your father would fire Finn faster than anything. You caught up to Finn and stopped him. “Excuse me!” You placed a hand on his chest. “I asked you a question.”
Finn gripped your hand tight and roughly flung it to the side. “I was going to apologize to you about my behavior and go back home. But after hearing all of that,” Finn pushed you aside. “I don’t think I will.”
You grabbed Finn by the arm. If he was going to be rough and push you around, might as well return the gesture. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Finn spun around and took hold of your upper arm and squeezed it tight. “What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Finn was practically yelling now. “After all this time of trying to get back together, you plan a fucking date with that foreigner?”
You felt the color drain from your body. Anger boiled under your skin as you ripped your arm free from Finn's grasp. “You better watch what you say next.” Your warning tone held more venom than you thought. “Don’t forget that my parents came from overseas, too.”
Finn stared at you for a good five minutes before turning around and walking away. You couldn’t believe what he had said. You couldn’t believe that he would actually stoop to that level. You shook your head and hands hoping the feeling of rage would leave your body. But it didn’t. Nothing you tried to help you calm down worked. You were so pissed at Finn. You wanted nothing more than to punch him in the throat.
As you walked into the building to cool down in your father’s office, Daniel took notice of your appearance. The way you walked wasn’t that loose and free walk. Your body was so tense that it looked almost robotic when you walked. He knew something was wrong. He stopped what he was doing and was at your side in seconds. You didn’t know it but Daniel had fallen hard for you already and would move mountains to make you happy. He knew that this was one of those moments. He hated to see that look of pure anger on your face. He wanted to know why and wanted to know how he could fix it for you.
“Y/N?” Daniels soft voice asked. He gently placed a hand on your arm and turned you around. “What happened?”
“Finn,” was all you had to say. Daniel let go when he saw that you clearly didn’t want anyone to touch you. You heard him mumble a small apology and looked up at him. You saw the worry in his eyes. “He’s being an asshole and not to mention that he hates your guts.”
Daniel didn’t seem surprised by that. “What did he do?” he just asked.
“He complained about you this morning for starters,” you opened your fathers office and plopped onto the sofa. Daniel sat next to you. “Then he overheard Bea and I talking about our dinner date and he got so angry over it.”
“He got angry that his ex-girlfriend is moving on?”
“Yep,” you answered, rubbing your face. “I asked him what his deal was and he turned around and yelled at me for repaying him for going out with you.”
Daniel shifted around on the sofa, he crossed his legs and placed a hand on your shoulder. The gentle touch began to calm you down. You sat back and closed your eyes. You felt two fingers lightly brush the hair from the side of your face behind your ear. You opened your eyes and looked to the side. There sat Daniel, his dark eyes just looking into yours. He looked so peaceful and so sweet. You wanted to sit like this forever.
“I have to report this to my Dad,” you broke the silence and sat up. “He put his hands on me and my Dad isn’t going to like it at all.”
***
The next evening as you got ready for your dinner date with Daniel, you thought back to the conversation you had with your father. It went as you expected it to go. He was calm through it all of it and you knew that if your father was calm, he was pissed. He obviously made sure you were okay, you were his only child and daughter. It didn’t matter the relationship he had with Finn, Finn grabbed you and insulated Daniel and his family.
“I’ll take care of it,” your father said. “Just enjoy your weekend and your dinner with Daniel.”
When you had told your father about your dinner with Daniel, he didn’t sound surprised. He was really cool about it and was just happy you were getting back into the world of dating.
“You’re not concerned about the age difference?” You asked. You weren’t too iffy on the age because you were a consenting adult. You just wanted to make sure your father was okay with it, because it mattered to you what he thought about it.
“No, not at all,” your father replied. “Your mother had you late in her forties. We are old enough to be his parents. Plus, Daniel approached me before I left town to see if it was okay to take you to dinner and that his intentions were one hundred percent pure.”
It was not long after you got ready that Daniel knocked on your door. You got up from your couch and made your way towards your door. You peeked through the little eye hole and saw Daniel standing there in a grey suit, almost like the one that he wore that very first day at the track.
You took a step back and opened the door. Once you did, you watched as Daniels took a deep breath as he looked you over. You wore a red sundress with white flowers printed around it. The Dress had a deep V in the front that stopped in the middle between both your breasts. The shoes you wore were a beige gladiator sandal like heel, the straps went half way up your calf. Your hair hung low around your shoulders and your make up was natural except for the light pink lip gloss you threw on.
“Wunderschӧnen,” Daniel said licking his top lip. The small action alone had your cheeks rosy with color. But you knew that he had called you beautiful or something like that. Even the way he looked you said it.
“I don’t really dress up like this,” you brushed the slightly wrinkled front of your dress. “This dress is like three years old I think and the shoes, Bea let me borrow those…” You let your voice wander off.
“You look lovely,” Daniel smiled as he looked you over again. How was he going to get through dinner with you looking like that? “Shall we?” He offered his hand to you and you took it with a smile. “I promise to make tonight memorable.”
***
Dinner was amazing.
The two of you barely ate anything because the two of you couldn’t stop talking. You guys started out talking about each other's childhood and somehow the two of you ended up talking about some cat video you saw that morning. Talking about that video had you laughing all over again.
“Let me see,” Daniel stood up from his side of the table and moved to sit next to you. He placed one arm behind your back as you got the video ready. When you pressed play on the video, instantly Daniel started to laugh. You loved his laugh so much. “That was good,” he said when the video was over. “That was really good. I needed a laugh like that.”
“Well, I’m glad I can give that to you,” you took a sip of the wine that Daniel had insisted you try. You were a beer kind of gal and you only liked certain wines, so you tried it and were very much in love with the semi dry alcohol. “Tonight is very nice and I’m very much enjoying every second of it.”
Daniels hand rested on the small of your back and began to slowly rub his thumb in circles. The smile on his face said it all. He was enjoying everything about tonight. The way you laughed was something out of a book. The way you leaned over the table earlier while the two of you talked got him worked up and he wanted nothing more than to take you in the restaurant bathroom. To nuzzle his face between your breasts. To have his way with you. Then the way your soft skin felt under his rough, calloused hand--everything in that moment was perfect for Daniel.
“As am I,” Daniel replied. He watched as your tongue quickly darted out and wet your lips. He wanted to know what they would feel like against his own. Were they soft? Would they moan and whimper his name if he had his way with you? But Daniel couldn’t, not tonight at least. Daniel just wanted to take you out. He wanted to enjoy your company outside of the track.
When the check came and was paid for, Daniel walked you to your side of the car and held the door open for you. You got in and let Daniel close the door. Tonight was the best night you had in years. It was what you needed.
Then your phone rang. It was Bea.
“Are you calling to see if I’m still living?” You answered the phone.
“You can’t blame me,” Bea laughed. “But now that I have you, tell me all about it.”
You looked to see Daniel standing outside the driver side door. He had his phone in his hands and it looked like he was texting someone. “Well, I’m still with him. But I can tell you that it’s been amazing. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“You better, I have a homicide detective on speed dial,” Bea giggled.
“Bye, Bea,” you hung up the phone in time to hear Daniel get in.
“Sorry about that,” Daniel said, buckling in. “An old buddy texted me. Wanted to see how tonight went. Told him I would call him once I had you dropped off.”
“That’s sweet of him,” You tucked your phone back into your wallet. “Bea called me to make sure I was alive. She watches too many crime documentaries and somehow was convinced you were a serial killer and I was just your type.”
Daniel got a good laugh at that. “Well, she did get one thing right.” He started the car and put the car in reverse. The look on your face questioned his statement and he saw that. “You are my type.”
***
Daniel walked you to your apartment door and held your ice cream as you opened your door. He followed you in and shut the door with his shoulder. You set your things and turned to him with a small smile on your face. You wanted to ask if he wanted to stay for a drink and hang out for a while but you began to feel the butterflies in your stomach.
You turned back around and reached for the random clean glass that sat in the dish rack. You quickly filled it with tap water and chugged it until it was all gone. You set the glass to the side and turned to see Daniel still eyeing you. The way you noticed how his eyes flicker around body made your cheeks burn. Gosh, you don’t remember how long it’s been to have someone make you feel like this. You weren’t sure when the last time in your and Finn's relationship he made you feel like that.
“Thanks for dinner,” You told him, crossing over to him to get your slowly melting ice cream from him. “I had an amazing time.”
“As did I,” Daniel handed you the cone. “I guess I should be going. I don’t want to take up more of your night.”
You walked Daniel to the door. You were bummed that the night needed to end because you wanted more of his company. Daniel wanted the same but he knew that if he stayed any longer he would be even more tempted to have his way with you. Daniel wasn’t someone to just fuck on the first date.
Daniel turned around once he opened the door. There you were, your body practically brushing up against his as he looked down at you. Daniel immediately took notice of your flushed, rosy cheeks and the way your chest rose and fell with each deep breath. You, too, were holding yourself back.
Daniel couldn’t stop himself, he reached for your face and pulled it towards his. The moment your lips touched, it felt like a million sparks were set off inside your body. You instinctively wrapped your arms around Daniels neck and held him closer to your body. Daniel slid a hand around your shoulder while the other hand slid down to grip your hip. He walked you back until your back hit the wall.
Your lips and his moved together like a dance. His were soft against your own. They were intoxicating and your mind was drunk on the feeling. Daniel let his tongue slip out and brush over your bottom one, causing you to moan. You could feel the arousal pooling between your folds. You wanted more. You hitched your leg up and wrapped it around his waist. Daniel grabbed it.
“Querida, no,” Daniel pulled back and rested his head on yours. He was breathing hard and so were you. “We shouldn’t, at least not tonight.” He pulled his face back and brushed some loose hair from your face. “I want to make it a more meaningful first time for us. I want to kiss every inch of your body and worship it. I want to feel the softness of your skin on mine and to hear you scream out my name as I’m working you through multiple orgasms.”
You didn’t have any words. At first you were honestly a little disappointed to be turned down but as Daniel spoke, you felt your chest clench up and your cheeks warm up. You wanted Daniel even more now. You wanted to feel him inside you giving you the pleasure he knew you needed and wanted to give you.
“Okay,” you nodded your head. Your voice was just above a whisper but you knew that Daniel heard you.
Daniel smiled and leaned in to press his lips once more to yours. When he pulled away, he let your leg fall and took a step back. He put his hands in his pockets, “I very much enjoyed tonight, Y/N. I’ll see you Monday, meine Liebe.”
After Daniel left, you closed the door. You made a beeline towards your room. You flopped onto your bed and reached over to the night stand. You pulled out your friendly little buzzing toy and checked the batteries. When you were positive they worked you turned the lights off and called it an early night.
***
When Monday came around, your father was back in town. You tried to approach him about Finn but he said he’d talk to you after work. You understood why as soon as the first group of suits came in. There were meetings after meetings today and Daniel was a part of all of them with your father. So you hardly saw them. Only in passing where Daniel would wink at you from afar. Or the best one, you were making an afternoon cup of coffee when you felt Daniel next to you. He brushed against you as much as he could and whispered something in one of the many languages he knows.
By the time it was ready to shut down the track for the night, you went to find your father. Once you did, you were caught up on all the going ons with Finn. Which made you realize that the reason today went super smooth, Finn wasn’t at the track. You were happy that your father took care of it because from what he told you, you knew it needed to happen.
You were doing the last of your closing duties when you heard something bang around in one of the garages near you. You finish tying up the last bag and make your way towards the only garage open. There you see Daniel, arms deep into the engine of his red car. You heard him muttering under his breath and he didn’t sound like he was in a good mood.
“Hey,” you called while walking into the garage. “Do you need a skinner arm?”
Daniel stood up and as he did, he bumped his head on the hood of the car. “Y/N, I didn’t hear you come in.”
You walked next to him and looked into the spot that Daniel's arm was just in. “Looks like you lost a bolt. I might be able to reach it for you.” You took the sweater you were wearing off and threw your hair into a crappy bun and reached into the engine. “How’d you manage to knock this down there?”
“I knocked the car and it just fell,” Daniel replied. You could feel him standing next to you. “There was a rattle and I wanted to fix it.”
You managed to get the bolt until you felt another concerning thing in the engine. “Well that isn’t your only problem.” You stood up and handed him the bolt. “I felt something down there, might want to see what it is.”
Daniel rolled under the car and heard a few soft curses. When he rolled out he had a look on his face that pretty much told you that he wasn’t happy about what he had found. He sat up and rubbed his face. “Mouse nest and a few chewed up wires.”
You knelt down in front of him and placed a hand on his forearm. You didn’t miss how his muscles tensed up and relaxed at your touch. “It’s common around here,” you gave him a half smile. “I’ve had mice in my engine a few times. The wires are an easy fix and I can help you with that tomorrow.”
Daniel turned to you and took your hand in his. “I appreciate that, Liebling.” Then he leaned towards you and pressed his lips on yours. You felt your knees give out from under you and you landed right on his lap. One leg on either side of him.
Daniel’s hands were on your hips pulling you closer to him. This allowed you to wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss even more. Eliciting a low groan from Daniel and feeling the grip on your hips tighten. “Scheiße!” Daniel pulled back and you saw how blown his pupils were with lust. He wanted you, and he wanted you bad. You wanted the exact same thing.
Daniel gripped your hips tighter and shuffled around until your legs were wrapped around his waist. He managed to stand up and walked towards the workbench that was beside you guys. He placed you down and let his hands run from your hips down to the bottom of your thighs. Even though you wore jeans, his hands still left goosebumps in their wake. Making you groan softly.
Daniel placed a gentle kiss to the base of your neck and nuzzled his nose up to your jaw, the hair of his beard tickling the sensitive parts of your skin. . “Daniel,” you breathed a sigh and let your head fall back. Your hands held onto both his forearms. Your legs still wrapped around his waist. “Please, Daniel,” you whined softly, tightening your legs around him.
Daniel groaned when he felt his half hard, clothed erection brush against your clothed core. You sucked in a soft, sharp breath. The sound of his name on your lips was music to his ears. It was the most beautiful sound and he wanted to hear it again. Daniel moved his left hand between your bodies and pressed his thumb to your almost damp center.
“Mmmm,” Daniel hummed and pulled away. He kept his thumb where it was and slowly rubbed small circles. He watched as you closed your eyes and let your mouth fall open. “We probably should take this somewhere else.” He leaned in towards your ear and brushed his lips over them, sending a chill down your back. “Or we can risk getting caught on camera or by someone walking in here.”
The idea of getting caught thrilled you, but you remembered where you were. The risk of getting caught was high, but the risk of getting caught by your father was even more high. You took a deep breath and brought a hand up to his hair and gently gripped it. “Then we should probably take my car to your place.”
***
You had barely made it through the doorway when you felt Daniel pull you towards his chest. He shut and locked the door and had you pushed up on the closest wall in seconds. His lips crashed onto yours and you could feel the hunger behind the kiss. His hands strayed from your sides to your ass where he squeezed. You squealed and felt a smile on Daniel's face.
Daniel pulled you away from the wall and guided you back towards his small living room. His lips never left yours. Daniel still couldn’t believe that you were right here. In his arms, his lips on yours. He knew back at the track, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. He would have taken you right there on that workbench if he hadn’t thought about the camera hanging in the corner of the small area.
Daniel pulled away from you briefly to turn the two of you around and sit on the couch. He leaned forward and pulled you towards him. He looked up at you with those dark eyes and you smiled as you placed your hands on his shoulders and straddled his lap.
You kept eye contact with Daniel while you let your hands slide down to his chest. One by one, you undid each button on his shirt. Once the last button was done, you slide your hands over Daniel’s chest to the golden chain that hung around his neck. You looped your finger around the chain and pressed your lips to his.
Daniel's arms wrapped around you and he held on tight to you as he leaned back. Daniels hands slid to the bottom of your shirt and gently gripped the hem and tugged. You leaned back and let Daniel swiftly take your shirt off. Leaving you in your bra. It wasn’t lacey at all, just a solid ocean green color.
Daniel leaned forward some and slid a hand up your back until it reached your bra clasp. In one swift movement, your bra was undone and on the floor. Daniel looked at your bare breast and took them into his hands and squeezed them. You closed your eyes and exhaled. You didn't even realize that you were even holding your breath.
You opened your eyes when you felt Daniel shift around. He had his arms around you again and was standing up. He began to carry you back towards his room. Daniel dropped you down on the soft mattress and as you were backing up, Daniel was crawling his way towards you.
Your back hit the head board and Daniel slid a hand between your legs and used a knee to spread your legs enough to fit himself in between them. The hand that slid between your legs reached the button of your jeans.
With one little look he asked, “Do you still want this? I’ll understand if you want to-”
You cut Daniel off and grabbed hold of his face and brought him to your lips. You kiss him hard and let your tongue run along the bottom part of his lip before pulling away. Daniel groaned “Of course I want this. I want you,” you breathed deeply. “I’ve been waiting for something like this. Someone like you.”
Daniel’s lips curved into a mischievous grin. He leaned back onto his knees, letting his hair fall into face as he pulled your jeans down in one swift movement. “And you, mi querida,” he crawled his way back up to you and brushed your hair from your face. “Are everything that I have been looking for. Now, let me treat you like the goddess that I know you are.”
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mypoisonedvine · 3 years
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𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 ❧ you and Laszlo are different in many ways, some harder to ignore than others, but you share one latent predicament: affection.
𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 ❧ 3.1k
𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 ❧ angst, kinda smut? (just male masturbation), alpha/omega social dynamics (including sexism against omegas), laszlo being a huge asshole, brief violence, mutual pining, really just so much pining
⇥ 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ⇤
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Cardamom. Fresh-cut grass. Something sweet, like honey or fresh wine; something he couldn’t quite make out.
He recognized it instantly as the smell of you, and it made him grimace as he stood up from his couch. When you’d been over yesterday to discuss a case of his, he had honestly contemplated not letting you sit on or touch anything, anticipating this exact issue. But he had been too considerate to say anything and now your horridly wonderful stench was all over the place.
“Mary!” he called out into the house, and she thankfully appeared quickly. “Would you take these cushions from the sofa and… clean them, somehow?”
She nodded, stepping past him to start gathering them in her arms, and he watched her with narrowed eyes.
Truth was, he would rather never have to spend time near omegas when avoidable. It was a distaste he preferred not to voice since many people, alphas and betas alike, discriminated against omegas. Laszlo’s issue was not with some foolish notion that omegas were less worthy of respect, or too emotional or whatever offensive stereotype one might conjure. Rather, his concern lied less in any prejudice against the omegas themselves and instead in his own fears about being an alpha.
He wasn’t blind to the way being an alpha gave him a certain advantage in society, but if he’d had it his way he would’ve been able to avoid presentation entirely and be a beta. Betas were, for their potential blandness, much more… predictable. And Laszlo had never taken issue with the idea of being boring and predictable.
Alphas, on the other hand, had a habit for being a bit primitive. Especially when they were around other alphas… and especially when they were around omegas. It was no wonder that he barely had any idea how to act around you; it was like the composed, educated, respected man disappeared, leaving the mind and body to fend for themselves as he tried simply not to make a fool of himself.
Some omegas might like an alpha acting that way, but you weren’t as frivolous as those sort; and even if you were, he certainly wouldn’t debase himself to impress you.
Would I? he was forced to wonder.
He scoffed to himself, realizing this was exactly the internal monologue he had been hoping to avoid in the first place. This was why he couldn’t be running around with an omega, even if ‘running around’ was more like sitting and discussing neuropsychiatric disorders.
It was a shame that he liked you so much, that you always had such insightful things to say, or he could just do away with you for good. Maybe it had gotten so bad now that he would do it anyways, but you were an invaluable partner now in his investigation, and he was seeing more and more of you, hearing more of your gentle voice which seemed to stir his soul effortlessly.
And smelling more of you… that damn scent that he couldn’t seem to shake. The only thing he feared more than catching a whiff of it in his home unexpectedly, was to never breathe the scent of you again.
When Mary had all the cushions in a haphazard pile and turned to step away, he found himself reaching out and opening his mouth to speak. “Wait,” he blurted out before he could stop it, and Mary turned with her brow raised expectantly. “I’ll just… take this one,” he mumbled awkwardly, plucking a small cushion from the top of her pile. “For safekeeping.”
She nodded, but he caught her smirking a little as she turned and walked away with the rest. Of course she knew, and he cursed himself for being so obvious with his fickle emotions; but then again, a woman as perceptive as Mary was bound to find out sooner or later… she said nothing, but saw everything.
Or, almost everything. He made sure to lock his bedroom door and wait until the entire house was asleep before holding the stolen cushion tight to his chest in bed that night, to make sure no one would see his humiliating predicament, his juvenile obsession.
When he closed his eyes and ran his hands over the cushion’s embroidered fabric, he could almost pretend it was your dress, he could almost imagine holding you like this.
But he’d hold you even tighter. He’d never let you go.
It was honestly a bit ridiculous that he already had an erection from only this, but his imagination was running wild and his body wasn’t so far behind. He knew if he opened his eyes, it would remind him how pathetic this all was and he would likely stop himself. So, instead, he forced his eyes to squint shut even harder as he slipped his left hand down the front of his pyjama trousers.
A strict regimen of rut suppressants meant that he almost never had to resort to this, opting to ignore any tension rather than relieve it. But this time, when his hand wrapped around the throbbing base of his cock, it felt better than he remembered; though still nothing compared to what he was imagining.
He wanted to be buried inside you, so deep your eyes would roll back a bit. He wanted to kiss your neck until you were breathing those pretty little sighs of yours that he'd heard from time to time.
Though he'd never bedded an omega in his somewhat sparse sexual experience, he knew from his studies that omegas were uniquely sensitive, especially to an alpha. He could hardly dare to imagine how it would feel if he made you come; surely it would be too perfect to do anything but knot you right away, and just the thought of that made his cock flex against his grip.
“Omega,” he mumbled to himself, wondering how it would feel if you called him Alpha in the same way; that might be enough to almost make him like being an alpha, for once.
Because really, he hated it so desperately, with such a passion. He hated being ruled by instinct, even if he managed to overcome it the overwhelming majority of the time (this moment notwithstanding). He hated craving something that he didn’t know how to get and that no one wanted to give to him. He hated that being an alpha meant being expected to be strong and dominating and aggressive when he was nothing like that. Even if he had moments of weakness that brought out his more instinctual side, he could never be strong with only one good arm; he could never protect you like you deserved. He could never hold you as tight as he dreamed to.
He could never be your alpha. But maybe he could indulge in his fantasy for just a few moments longer...
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Perhaps you shouldn’t have put so much time into selecting your outfit, or you wouldn’t have been a quarter hour late past when Dr. Kreizler asked you to arrive at the Institute. As you scurried down the hall, trying not to walk too loudly since your heels echoed through the corridor, you just hoped he wouldn’t notice or say anything about it.
When you stepped through his office door, everyone— Sara, John, the Isaacsons, and Laszlo himself— looked up to stare at you.
“Ah, I was wondering if you intended to arrive at all,” Laszlo frowned.
“Well, I—” you began.
“It’s no matter, just shut the door behind you and try to keep up with the discussion,” he interrupted, turning around to write on the chalkboard again.
You nodded awkwardly, catching a sympathetic smile from John, before listening to the Doctor pick up where he left off.
Laszlo continued to be uncharacteristically curt with you— well, it wasn’t so uncharacteristic, but it was even worse than normal— throughout the entire meeting, regularly undermining your suggestions if not directly interrupting them, dismissing your ideas as fantastical or preposterous.
The others seemed to notice, in fact it seemed to make them similarly uncomfortable, but nobody thought to say anything and you spent the better part of an hour biting your lip to keep from either crying or cursing him.
You were relieved when Laszlo finally dismissed the team; you were the first to turn for the door, in fact, more than ready to get out of this nightmare of an office, but Laszlo addressed you specifically by name as the others filed out of the room.
“Yes?” you answered, noticing John nonchalantly hanging behind as well.
“Next time, try presenting some reasonable ideas, why don’t you?” Laszlo suggested to you sharply.
“Leave off,” John warned Laszlo, who didn’t even turn his attention away from you for a moment, though he did seem to heed the warning regardless as he cooled off slightly.
“It’s no matter,” Laszlo decided flippantly, “I shouldn’t have expected much else— it’s in your nature.”
You swallowed thickly, hearing John scoff at your side. “C’mon, let’s go,” he encouraged you quietly yet firmly. You gave Laszlo one shy glance, but he’d already turned to examine some papers on his desk, ignoring you completely.
“Goodbye, Doctor,” you mumbled sheepishly, turning and following John out the door and out of the Institute.
When you reached the street, you were prepared to start walking on but John held your arm gently. “Your apartment isn’t far from my grandmother’s house, why don’t we share a cab?” he offered.
You considered turning him down simply because you had been looking forward to a chance to wallow alone, but as he looked down at you, you realized you were better off with the company of a friend. “All right,” you nodded, “that would be lovely, thank you.”
John was able to flag a buggy down and was kind enough to help you in before following behind you, sitting across from you as you looked out the small window.
“Pay no mind to the Doctor,” John decided to offer as he interrupted the silence. You thought maybe he would just distract you with small talk, so you were surprised when he got right to it. “He’s always this irritable.”
“I just can’t imagine why he’s so irritated by me,” you sighed, hoping to regulate your tone to just somber and not heartbroken.
“I can,” John chuckled, and you shot him a glare.
“You’re agreeing that I’m irritating?” you confirmed, incensed, and he looked back at you with a slightly condescending smile.
“Not at all. It’s just that there are things about alphas that omegas can never properly understand.”
You rolled your eyes. “Because our minds are too simple, right?” you pressed sarcastically.
“No, no, not that,” he defended, getting a bit more serious. “You know I’m not the type to think those things about omegas; Doctor Kreizler certainly isn’t. I just mean, it can be difficult to explain.”
“Well, use that big alpha brain of yours and give it a shot, why don’t you?” you encouraged, crossing your arms incredulously.
“All right, don’t get upset with me,” he soothed. “Nobody who really understood alphas would ever accuse them of being logical, that’s the thing. Alphas certainly want you to think that, but… we’re really not so rational at all.”
You raised your eyebrow, confused, and he sighed.
“I mean, I suppose we can be, I know I try my best… but I think we both know that I have a few of my own vices.”
John did certainly seem to have a reputation with prostitutes, mostly betas but some omegas as well. Some mornings you could smell them on him still; and it made you appreciate that maybe a man like Laszlo wasn’t only putting on the appearance of solitude.
“Betas are really the only ones who have their heads on straight, the way I see it,” John decided. “I mean, think of Sara. Do you think before she does something, she wonders what omegas will think when she does it? Or what alphas will think?”
You chewed your lip. “No, I suppose not.”
“No matter what alphas try to tell you about how they’re the better sex, ultimately all we can ever really do is worry about omegas. And, I won’t speak for you, but I think the reverse may be true as well.”
“So… that behavior there, in his office, that was him… worrying about me?” you concluded.
“I think it worries him that he worries for you,” John specified, smiling like he’d said something profound.
But you were unimpressed, and you made that plenty clear by sighing and leaning back against the seat of the buggy. It was a long ride home, your mind racing with reimaginings of how Laszlo had spoken to you and what a more outspoken version of yourself might have done, but you had to admit that even in silence it was better with John nearby.
Perhaps even preferably in silence.
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You waited a few days, hoping to find your mood improving, but it only seemed to get worse. Each day you thought about Laszlo— everything about Laszlo, annoyingly enough, but especially the inconvenient fact that he couldn’t stand you.
John apparently had his own theory about it. He seemed to imply that Laszlo had some underlying attraction to you, something he could help as an alpha dealing with an omega— and while that idea made your heart skip a beat, it seemed too good to be true. He would’ve said the same thing if Laszlo was kind to you, wouldn’t he? So what difference does it make?
No matter the cause, you didn’t want to leave it unaddressed any longer. That was what compelled you to drop in at Dr. Kreizler’s home one foggy and grey evening— the kind where one could smell the incoming rain in the air even without an omega’s keen senses— knowing he wasn’t at the Institute this time of day.
Mary let you in, showing you to the living room to wait for him; you would’ve sat on the couch, but you noticed all the cushions were missing with a befuddled expression. Mary seemed a little amused by your confusion before she left to return to some task in the back garden, and so you just let your eyes wander over the room to pass the time. Laszlo’s collection of books was impressive, of course, as were the bottles of medications and salves stored in shelves. You noticed rut and heat suppressants among them, and you were pleasantly surprised since heat suppressants were often considered to be controversial— a form of birth control, in the eyes of many, and therefore often thought of as sinful. But of course a man like Laszlo wouldn’t think of things that way; you admired his progressiveness.
You turned from the shelf when you heard him enter the room; he seemed surprised to see you, understandably. “I apologize that I didn’t call first, but I wanted to discuss something with you,” you explained.
“Something you couldn’t call to discuss?” he presumed, making you frown.
“Well, yes, or I would’ve called. You know, Laszlo, this may surprise you but I actually don’t try to irritate you,” you explained, already losing a bit of your patience.
You didn’t often call him by his first name, not to his face at least. Apparently, he didn’t care much for it. “It must come to you naturally then,” he nodded.
“Then why do you keep me on the case? If I’m so frustrating and fundamentally unhelpful?” you interrogated. You expected an immediate response, but he stammered over his words for a moment.
“Well—” he began, stopping to sigh and glance at the window. “Is it especially hot out today?”
“Um, no,” you answered, confused. “It’s rather temperate.”
When he looked at you again, something had changed in his expression. “Oh,” he sighed, “you— you should go.”
“Doctor, you haven’t answered my question,” you reminded him firmly.
“Yes, I’ll tell you another time, but I have matters to attend to,” he rushed, starting to look a bit unwell as he coughed and started fuss with his tie.
“Are you all right?” you asked, stepping closer and seeing him step back in turn— but he tripped, trying to catch himself with his weak arm and failing completely. He hit the floor with a hiss, dark brown hair falling out of its style and into his face as he grunted in pain.
“Doctor!” you gasped, running to him as your heart pounded. “What’s wrong?”
But in your heart, you knew. In fact, it wasn’t just your heart but your whole body that told you it was his rut. He looked to be in such pain, panting and tugging at his stiff collar, face already turning a bit red.
“Laszlo,” you sighed, reaching down and starting to kneel with him, but he slapped your hands away.
“Get out,” he breathed, ragged and dark.
“No, you need help,” you asserted, reaching for him again and nearly screaming with shock when he jumped up and roughly shoved you back.
“How dare you say no to me, in my own home, like I am your inferior?” he snarled. “Get out!”
“I… I can help you…” you whispered shakily, trying not to cry, unable now to save your dignity as your caring omega instincts kicked in— as well as your latent desire.
“And what makes you think I want your help? Have I not made what I want abundantly clear?” he bellowed, storming closer to you as you fumbled backwards. “Leave here, and don’t come back.”
Even with tears in your eyes and fear coursing through you until your hands began to shiver, you softly shook your head. “N-no, Laszlo, I won’t… I won’t leave you like this.”
For a moment, you thought he might relent, considering the way his expression softened. But just as quick as it came, it shifted to seething rage again and you didn’t even know what hit you for a moment— it was the back of his hand, striking your cheek so hard you almost fell to the floor, though you just barely managed to keep your balance.
It was only a brief moment that the two of you stood there, you holding your cheek as tears fell straight from your eyes to the hardwood beneath you while he just glared at you, chest heaving; but it felt like an eternity.
You couldn’t find the strength to meet his gaze again before you spun on your heel and scampered away, picking up your skirt with one hand and wiping your tears shakily with the other.
Fighting not to spare a glance back at him, you shoved the front door open and ran out into the sheets of freezing rain, finally taking the time to properly sob as you made a mad dash for the only address you knew for John Moore.
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Dinner Manners
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(Not my Gif)
Synopsis: One of Sarah's friends has a run in with an old flame and a terrible dinner guest.
Warnings: SMUT, Mentioned minor character death, swearing, Fem!reader, Victorian Ideals.
A/N: I have been working on this for about three months beacuse I kept getting writers block or distracted. So please enjoy! I also haven't edited it..please forgive my mistakes it any lmfao
Masterlist
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The soft piano lilted through the dinning room at Delmonico's as Y/n entered the building holding onto her friend Sarah's arm. Miss Howard had practically begged Y/n to dinner with her and John. Citing that they both missed her a great deal wanting to know how all about her time abroad in Paris and London.
That is what they said at least.
Then she saw another man sitting across from John with only two seats available. One next to Mr Moore and the other next to the bearded stranger. Upon their arrival both men stand up quickly John pulling out the chair for Sarah leaving the Y/n and the other man awkwardly staring at the empty one.
"Well this is a surprise" Y/n says quickly in a polite tone moving to take the seat before it was pulled out. She hated having things done for her.
"Mmm I would agree. Feels quite a bit like an ambush" The man to the left of her says. This causes Y/n to straighten up more, agitated by the fact he sounded so stiff.
"Yes, well since you called it what is is," John hums a bit and natures to the pair. "My dear I wanted to introduce you to Doctor Laszlo Kriezler a close friend of mine. Laszlo this is Miss Y/n Y/l/n a dear friend of Sarah's who has been travelling abroad with her family." John smiles brightly.
Both Laszlo and Y/n knew this was intended to be a blind set up the moment Sara and John snickered to each other. Deciding to just play along for the time being the younger woman looked up at Doctor Kreizler.
"Its a pleasure to meet you Doctor, Be it that our friends have taken it upon themselves to force this meeting" She hums not attempting to hide her annoyance.
"I wish I could say the same" Laszlo says simply causing every part to look at him in shock.
"Laszlo!" John and Sara say together shocked at his bluntness, sure they knew Kreizler wasn't the most well mannered man. But usually in public he could restrain himself.
"What? You two decide to throw both Myself and this...woman...into a very uncomfortable situation. How do I know you didn't just pay for her to be here just so you didn't feel bad for having me as a third party." He hisses causes the Woman to his left too snort.
"And the same could be said for you Doctor" She snaps back just as quick.
"That is a bold response coming from a woman in a very low cut dress" Laszlo says flatly and that was the last twist of the knife the young lady needed to hear.
"With all due respect Doctor...go fuck yourself" Y/n says and stands throwing a glass of wine into his face before storming out of the restaurant.
Laszlo however stayed seated picking up a napkin and wiping his face.
"Well she certainly makes an impression" He grumbles causing both of his friends to sign exasperated.
"As do you, you idiot" Sara huffs "I expect that you will go an apologize to her or I will never speak to you again"
"Thats a bit dramatic even for you Miss Howard." This earns a glare from John.
"You know what Laszlo, I share Miss Y/l/n's last sentiment. And be thankful I haven't received my wine yet"
With that Miss Howard rose to her feet and quickly followed her friends path. Wanting to find her and ease the anger that had bubbled up from the unfortunate meeting. Leaving John and Laszlo together for a less than comfortable dinner.
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The young woman often made sure every engagement she went to was void of the handsome Hungarian man since that night. Usually she was pretty safe as he Laszlo rarely made public appearances, for example the party she had just come back from was void of the man right up until she made it home.
Teetering a bit on her heels that where all the rage back in Paris, she opened the door humming a soft tune. It was honestly a rather dull affair but the champagne was good and flowing.
"Oh...Miss...you're home. A gentleman is here to see you" The housekeeper, Ms. Fitzwilliam coos at her happily as Y/n kicks off her shoes jumping at the sudden voice glancing up.
After registering who it was the woman smiled a bit and nodded at her.
"Is there? How wonderful! Please make sure they are aware I want nothing to do with them as you send them away." She airily flourishing a hand as she move gracefully through the hallway towards the the sitting room off the main foyer.
"Umm..are you sure Miss? He is quite dashing and-"
"I don't care if he is the bloody king of England! Send. Him. Away."
Ignoring the way her housekeeper followed spluttering behind her as she looked up making eye contact with Laszlo who had been sitting in one of the high-backed armchairs a class of Port in his hand.
"I see your colourfully language is still the same" he says taking a sip of his drink. Laszlo would be lying if he said he wasn't bit stunned at how..disheveled the woman looked. She looked like a very different person then the one who he had observed at dinner.
Strands of her hair had fallen from the elaborate braid she had, the pieces framing her face. Slowly his eyes gravitated lower to her chest for a moment watching it heave under the effort of the tight corset that lay beneath the dark green lower cut dress.
Damn those Parisian designers.
"Well the statement stands, although I regret comparing you to the King of England"
"That is an inappropriate way to treat a guest" He replies gruffly, tightening his hand on the cane as she rolled her eyes.
"Right, of course. As I should always hold myself up to your high esteem right Doctor? Like how you practically called me a harlot. In public! Before rushing out of dinner leaving me ALONE." Y/n snaps and throws her shoes down onto the ground.
"You are acting like the children I work with" He retorts and realizes perhaps that was a mis-step as her glossy shoe comes hurling at his head. "Verdammter Scheiß!"
"Ms. Fitz, Show this pompous asshole out of our lovely home" Y/n snaps and moves to leave gasping when she feels his hand grip her upper arm.
"You will not speak to me that way. Ms. Fitz if you wouldn't mind giving us the room" Kriezler says in an authoritative tone. Fitz looking between both her mistress and the Doctor.
"It's fine, I can handle myself. Goodnight Ms Fitzwilliam" The woman says her voice still strong but Laszlo could sense her wavering. The older housekeeper nodded a faint smile on her lips as she moved to shut the parlour door.
"Do you enjoy making a fool of yourself?" Laszlo whispers harshly into her ear. "Do you enjoy making me mad? Testing my patience? Pushing me over and over again? Making me lie to our friends? To Dear Ms Fitz"
His tone made her shiver and bite her lip. Slowly allowing herself to press back into his body.
"No one asked you to lie to Sara and John. Just like no one asked you to humiliate me” She snaps reminding herself why she was so angry with him.
“We both know that is an inaccurate statement, as you have on many occasions asked me to humiliate you” Laszlos voice makes her shiver.
The pair had met each other at a seminar her father was holding on new ideas for child medicine. Laszlo had been more open minded then. Not so set in his ways often finding himself in discourse with the younger woman, who would often twist a knife just to get a rise out of him. He really believed that a beautiful relationship could blossom between them…until her father died.
Then she had went away. No words where exchanged, no goodbyes given. Just one day he walked by the home and the doors where closed and drapes hung over all the furnishings to keep the dust away.
Something that caused Laszlo a great deal of pain, Something he had never mentioned. Even though they made a point to send letters to one another it just wasn't the same. So when he caught a glimpse of her walking into Delmonico's he become a swirl of emotions, most he had never let himself feel. Until that moment their eyes locked again.
"You mean like how you left me alone Schatz." He husked and instantly regret and guilt caused her to relinquish the upper hand to him.
"Las I didn't-" She went to say something but found her words caught in her throat.
"How could you know! You left! You left and never told me that you planed to go." Laszlo snaps pushing her against the wall looking down at her, his eyes full of emotion.
"I-I'm sorry I didn't know I-it would hurt you so much" She says in earnest reaching up and gently touching his cheek. Trying her best to quell the beast brewing beneath the surface.
Laszlo did not reply leaning in and kissing her fiercely. He didn't want to speak about it any more. He just wanted to feel her again, have her close to him. He reveals in the soft moan that escapes her lips and the little bit of writhing she does attempting to get control.
"Stop it. We have been apart for too long and I have to remind you who is in control" He gravels out he roughly pushes her down onto the chaise lounge before kneeling between her legs.
"Pull up your skirts" Laszlo commands and nervously the girl does so, gasping as he lounges forwards licking a stripe along her thigh to her core.
It had been a long time since either of them did this. With anyone and Y/n was shuttering with delight as the man hadn’t lost his touch. A whine escapes from her lips and it sounded like a perfect melody to him.
A warmth started spreading throughout the woman as he head feel back with a soft thud against the head of the chaise. Just when she thought that warmth was going to over take her Laszlo pulled back. Another whine came from the back of her throat but before another word could exit her lips, Kriezler pushed into her warm welcoming heat.
"Oh Doctor!" She exclaims and he is hovering over her.
Originally he was going to draw this out, make her beg and plead for him. Be a touch mean to her in order to prove how much she needed him. But in the end he was over taken by his own primal urges to be one with her. All those other things could wait until later. Right now he just wanted to feel her, hold her and chase after their mutual pleasure.
He listened to all the soft whines and cooing that passed her lips. A smile gracing her usual scowl and kissed down the column of her throat.
"Thats it my little dove, Mein Schatz" He groans and Heiress looked up at him with so much unshared emotion both of them knew what they wanted to say but could never find the right moment.
"Laz...I-" She starts and he kisses her swallowing the admission.
"I know you don't have to tell me" He whispers and starts to speed up watching her come apart for him. Just like she used to, her nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders a high pitched sound escaping her chest.
The Doctor soon followed after her panting and resting his forehead on her chest. His eyes closed as a tear drips down his checks. It had been so long since he had been with anyone let alone the one woman he had been in love with. Laszlo instantly melted has her fingers carded into his hair as the both start to breath in tandem.
"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to hurt you" Y/n says softly after a moment of silence.
"I know" He answers slowly looking up as she wipes his cheeks.
"I was just so angry" She sniffles "And that wasn't fair to you"
"Listen we can work all of this out later. Right now I just want to hold you, will you let me?" He asks in earnest and she nods whining softly as he pulls out and moves to create room for him.
"I have and always will love you Laszlo" She whispers "Even if you call me a whore"
"And Ill always love you, even if you call me the King of England" He hums chucking when she smacks his chest.
"I told you I didn't mean to call you that" The woman laughs and he smiles down at her kissing her once again both thankful to be back in one another arms.
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