#but i had only heard them speaking german with the other german in our room

[brytnoter]

Mutuals please reblog this and put in the tags what language(s) you speak

[milaisreading]

🌱🩷: So... this happened...

Pairings:

Yandere!Kainess x Crossdresser!Yn

Warnings: Reader uses she/her, but the characters use he/him when talking about/to her. It's a yandere story, read at your own risk. Requests are open fyi

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura

"What?" (Y/n) raised an eyebrow as she stared at Ness and Kaiser, the two Germans having her cornered in the hallway late at night. She didn't really dislike the duo she was forced to room with, but that didn't mean she enjoyed talking to them much. After all, one is bossy and a show off, while the other was overall alright unless someone insults Kaiser. So, that's why (Y/n) mostly kept her conversations with Ness and Kaiser at a minimum and as polite as possible. That being said, she was never polite to the point where the duo could believe they could boss her around or demand anything. So how she found herself in this situation was beyond her understanding.

"You heard me." Kaiser's voice cut off her stream of thoughts and she looked back at the blonde.

"I want you to play with Ness and I. After all, you are wasting your skills and potential on Yoichi and his little crowd." Kaiser smirked as he saw (Y/n)'s confused face turn into a frown.

"Besides, wouldn't it be better to play for someone you know will score. Join us instead." Ness added in, sporting his usual smile.

"I already said it once, I play with Isagi. The Manshine and Barcha matches showed you as much. Leave me alone." (Y/n) said, agitated with Kaiser and Ness's pestering. It's been going on ever since the Barcha match ended.

"Oh? Really? So it's a definite no from you?" Although Kaiser was smirking, both Ness and (Y/n) could hear the agitated tone in his voice.

"Yes." She rolled her eyes, pushing both Germans away so that she could make her way back to Noa's room.

"I have to go and look after Isagi. I don't have time for your shenanigans."

Both Kaiser and Ness watched as the player walked off, not offering them even one glance back.

"Just wait, you little prick! You will end up at our mercy eventually!" Ness yelled in frustration, which was fueled even more as he only received a light-hearted wave in return. Kaiser, once she was gone, dropped his smile and he punched the wall.

"Kaiser?" Ness turned to look at the blonde, equally mad.

"That little dumbass... that cute little dumbass." A smirk slowly re-appeared.

"I hate it when people don't listen to me, but at the same time I like that defiant nature of his. Will be all the more fun to watch that crumble. I will have the loyalty of that little midfielder, not Yoichi, not anyone."

"And how are we supposed to get him on our side now?" Ness finally spoke, frustrated that the player rejected them like that.

"We will find a way."

Later that night, Kaiser went to take a shower while (Y/n) was still out with her Blue Lock teammates. This gave Ness some alone time to think over everything that had happened ever since they arrived at Blue Lock. He really didn't expect things to get this complicated. All he planned with Kaiser was to crush Isagi and go back to Germany, but now... The plans were pretty much shifted. They didn't expect a certain midfielder (and defender) would somehow capture both of their hearts. There was just something about (Y/n) that Ness couldn't really put his finger on. Was it the player's tolerance of his and Kaiser's ideas? His willingness to speak up to them? Or the way he would get flustered when mad? Or was it the face (Y/n) made when one of them insulted her? Maybe it was even the adorable blush on her face when she ate something good?

"Ahhh... that adorable idiot! Why is he so stubborn? Can't he see that Kaiser and I would treat him like royalty? All he has to do is submit to us." Ness groaned into his pillow. Peeking from his pillow, the player's eyes landed on (Y/n) bed. Ness' eyes full of love and craziness.

"You will be ours... you will be mine, you adorable idiot. Even if I have to kill people."

He whispered. It was silent for a moment, and Ness started finding comfort in it when Kaiser entered the room. The magenta-eyed boy looked at the star striker who looked all flustered, but also like he discovered a cure for some disease.

"I finally figured out how we can make (Y/n) ours! And a way to end his defiance towards us both." Kaiser smirked as he sat on his bed. Now this! This caused Ness to sit up and look at his teammate in wonder.

"How?!"

"Well, turns out our dear little midfielder has been hiding who he is...or better said, who she is." Kaiser chuckled.

"She?" Ness' eyebrow was raised at that.

Minutes prior...

Kaiser had finished his shower and was planning on foing back to the room he shared with Ness and (Y/n). The 2nd midfielder still on the boy's mind.

'Such a stubborn and cute midfielder. I need to crush him and make him mine. As much as his constant rejections and protests are a turn on, they do get boring.' Kaiser hummed,  trying to think of ways to force (Y/n) into submission.

"So, how long do you plan on keeping this secret? I always get nervous it will be revealed during a game." Isagi's worried voice stopped Kaiser in his tracks.

'Huh? Yoichi? What is he talking about?' The blonde thought, trying to find out where the voice was coming from.

"I don't know. Ego-san said he will come up with something so I don't end up getting selected for the Japanese team."

'(Y/n)?! What does he mean by that?' Kaiser furrowed his eyebrows, peeking from the corner where he saw the duo. Both looked nervous as they spoke. What was going on?

"I am surprised nobody else figured out you were a girl. But I am also happy. Imagine all the mess it would have caused with the other teams."

"Right? And the press would have had a field day with this one as well." The two laughed a little, not knowing that Kaiser heard everything. The German held back a gasp as he moved away a little, not to be spotted.

'A girl?! (Y/n)... was a girl this whole time?' Kaiser's eyes were as wide as plates as those words finally sunk in.

"Say, want to go and get food sometime after Blue lock is over? Just the two of us?"

"Sure! "

As the duo talked, Kaiser slowly and quietly walked away from the spot, making his way back to the bedroom.

'A girl? Huh? Explains a lot of (Y/n)'s odd behavior. Like not wanting to shower with the rest of us or change clothes.' Kaiser's face grew redder at the thought.

"But... this is great. Finally I found a way I could control hi-her..." The blonde smirked as a plan was formed in his head.

Present time...

Ness' face was beet red as Kaiser finished his story.

"A girl? (Y/n) has been a girl this whole time?" The boy asked again, earning a nod from the blonde striker.

"Oh.... explains a lot then..." Ness said as he felt his heartbeat increase.

"This discovery came at the right time." Kaiser laughed a little, causing Ness to wake up from his own thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Think of it, Ness. This way we will have an easier time getting her to submit. After all, imagine the scandal and shame Japanese football would get if this came out."

"Blackmail? I like that plan." Ness smirked, finally realizing what Kaiser meant.

"Tonight's going to be fun."

After a few hours, (Y/n) finally came back fromhe hang out with Isagi and the rest. Yawning as she walked inside, she paid no mind to the two Germans and went straight to her bed. But, jer plans got cut short as she felt a pair of hands wrapping around her waist, stopping her in her tracks.

"Huh?" She blinked and looked behind her, only to find Ness grinning as his hold tightened.

"The hell, Ness? Let me go! It's rude to grab people like that." She glared at the boy, but he just gave her a nonchalant smile.

"Nope~ I like it like this more. You are quite soft, too." The boy answered, resting his head on her shoulder.

"What the-"

But before she could say more a hand grabbed her chin, causing her to look directly at a smug Kaiser.

"Now now, that's not a language a lady should be using,no?" The blonde felt his smile grow as he saw the panic in her eyes for a few seconds.

"Shut up, Kaiser. Let me go, you both." (Y/n) said back as anxiety started to bubble up in her gut.

"What? Nothing much to say for the first part? How long were you planning on playing a guy?" Kaiser challenged and as expected, got no answer in return.

"Aww~ you are cute when you are arguing with us. But, seeing you so silent is even better." Ness teased, playing with a few strands of her hair.

"You... you are funny, Kaiser. I am a guy, why would I pretend?-"

"Oh, really? That's not what you and Yoichi talked about a few hours ago. Cut the crap, we know you are a girl." Kaiser rolled his eyes, leaning closer into her.

"I... what do you want?" (Y/n) sighed in defeat, there was really no point to argue with them. Especially when she felt Ness' hold tighten even more.

"Easy, give me your loyalty and  play for me om the field. Discard Yoichi and the rest."

"Forget it-"

Before (Y/n) could protest more, Ness cut her off.

"Oh? So you want us to expose you instead? Imagine Japan becoming a laughing stock in the football world. And what about the team? Their chances of playing professionally might get destroyed, too."

(Y/n)'s eyes widened at his words, her body shaking a little. Kaiser smiled at the reaction and Ness chuckled a little.

"Just as I thought. Unless you don't want to get shamed and ruining everyone's progress in Blue lock, you better listen to us. Got it?" Kaiser challenged again, this time earning a slow nod from her.

"Good!" Ness cheered, kissing the back of her neck.

Kaiser chuckled a little and pulled the girl into a kiss. They finally got what they wanted.

[katyswrites]

don't call me 'baby'

PART 1 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, swearing, sexual harassment/men being gross, alcohol use, smoking, age gap

Wordcount: 4k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

PART 1 | in the same room, at the same time

This wasn’t supposed to happen. That’s what you would tell yourself, later. But, life is funny that way - nothing ever really goes the way you’d expect it. And, when you had taken the last-minute shift at Enoteca Bruni, the fine-dining restaurant where you worked as a cocktail waitress, you could have never predicted where the night would take you.

It had started with a large reservation that had come in around 8pm, four businessmen in suits and watches that you imagined cost more than your entire month’s rent. You were used to that type - considering the prices on the wine list, nearly everyone you served here lived at least three tax brackets above you. It wasn’t a job meant for everyone - a lot of these types of customers were dismissive, rude, and expected those who serve them to disappear in the background, not to interrupt whatever they were doing, which was obviously oh-so-important. But, the tips were phenomenal, and the late night hours worked perfectly with your daytime shifts at the cafe in the city’s center.

Still, the most intriguing thing about them was that they weren’t Italian, like you had gotten used to - nor were they speaking Spanish, French, German, or any of the other languages you had learned to recognize over the last few years. No, they were American. It wasn’t often that you heard your native tongue and accent nowadays - no, it was actually jarring. But, you welcomed it. The oldest man at the table, a gray-haired, thin man with a sharp face and tailored three-piece suit, smiled when you greeted them with a hello.

“How wonderful,” he had exclaimed. “Someone from our side of the world.”

“Finally,” a younger man with a smattering of freckles on the other side of the table had said, exasperated. “We’ve got someone who actually speaks English around here.”

“Well,” you said, “To be fair, you are in Rome. I suppose you could say we are the odd-ones-out.”

He rolled his eyes, and shrugged. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m just trying to say it’s nice to actually understand who I’m talking to for once, you know? Not that I’m looking for her to talk back.”

Unfortunately, that didn’t even crack the top ten worst things a customer had said to you in your time working here. So instead, you just plastered on a cheerful smile.

“Of course. In that case, what drinks can I get started for you gentlemen?”

As the hours wore on though, it was becoming harder and harder to feign kindness. With each wave of dismissal, or snap of their fingers, you wanted to take the drinks you were serving and throw them in their faces. The worst of the bunch were probably the first older man you had spoken to, who had such a vile demeanor about him that you couldn’t quite put your finger on it; and perhaps worse than him were two of the younger men, the dark-haired one with freckles, and a sandy-haired guy with what you could only describe as a mullet.

1982 called, it wants its hairstyle back, you thought to yourself. 

It was those two who you could see undressing you with their eyes, who called you over for nonsense requests, asking you to bend over the table to get things that you knew they were perfectly capable of reaching themselves. And, you weren’t deaf; you heard the comments they made as you walked away to fetch more wine and scotch.

Look at that ass go, one of them said. I’d definitely hit it.

As if you could pull that, the other said. Besides, you’ve already got two bitches on the side Billy; leave some for the rest of us.

Don’t look at me, the sandy-haired man who was apparently named Billy retorted. If anyone around here needs to get laid, it’s Harrington.

With your back turned, you rolled your eyes, and wondered if they’d notice if you spit in their drink - that was, until no-first-name Harrington replied.

Guys, lay off - just let the girl do her job, yeah? 

You took a deep breath, and recomposed yourself - it was the bare minimum, but it was something - someone who saw you as a person, maybe.

You carried the tray over with a wide smile plastered on your face, handing out drinks as you surveyed the table. You glanced at Harrington, the quietest one in the group - you had hardly heard a word from him all night, until right now. He was handsome, on the younger side of the group, but you’d estimate still about a decade your senior; he had a thick, slightly wild head of chestnut hair, and more of a boyish look about him. And with the exception of his perfectly-tailored suit and ostentatious Rolex, he didn’t look to have much else in common with his colleagues at first glance. While they sat at ease, laughing and conversing over their drinks, he sat up straight, stoically swirling his wine.

You pulled the post-dinner cigars they had asked you to bring out of the box, slicing the end with the guillotine cutter and handing the first one to the oldest man, striking a match and lighting it for him until he drew smoke. It felt humiliating sometimes, to light the Suits’ cigars for them as if they couldn’t do it themselves, but that came with the territory in a place like this, you had learned. 

You reached Harrington last, only for him to shake his head.

“Oh, none for me - thank you though.”

Thank you - he was probably the first one from the table to say that all evening. 

“Can I get you gentleman anything else?” you asked stiffly.

“That’ll be all, for now,” the gray-haired man said, waving you off. 

You nodded, and at the bar, decided it was high time for your smoke break. You glanced at your watch - your shift was over in less than an hour, and your high heels were killing you. You signaled to the manager behind the bar that you were taking fifteen, and shouldered your way out the door.

*****

The first few minutes outside were peaceful, and relatively quiet - at least, as quiet as Rome could be at this hour. There was still the distant sound of traffic, the bustle of people on the sidewalk, many drunkenly stumbling and laughing, in the midst of making merry on a Friday night. You took a drag from your cigarette and inhaled deeply - even just a few moments off of your feet, and sitting out here on this bench in the fresh air, was starting to take the edge off. Still, you couldn’t shake that table of men - your manager had warned you that it was a very high-profile client, explaining that the dinner was likely a pretense for some multi-million dollar deal to be discussed. Still, you found yourself muttering under your breath, practicing the retorts and profanities you had wanted to throw at them. The shield you had built for dealing with customers was only so strong, and if your job wasn’t on the line, you probably would have told them to fuck off hours ago.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you don’t hear someone approaching, not until they’re right next to you, clearing their throat.

“Oh! Jesus, hi,” you say, clutching your chest with your hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Harrington was standing above you, hands in his pockets and his tie loosened.

“It’s fine - I promise, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His smile was friendly, and a bit apologetic. He looked different in the dim light, a bit younger, and not at all like someone who spends his days in an office doing… whatever those men inside did.

“You mind if I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the empty spot next to you on the bench. You just shook your head, a bit wary of him still.

He smiled, and started fishing around in his pockets until he pulled out a small baggie of tobacco and a pack of rolling papers. You raised your eyebrows, and smirked.

“You roll your own cigarettes?” you asked.

He nodded, not quite looking at you, focused intently on the task and hand.

“Yep. It’s so much better than that crap you smoke, trust me.”

You scoffed, despite the fact that this man was technically your customer, and your shift wasn’t quite over yet.

“Yeah, well, I’m doing just fine with what I’ve got. Thanks though…” you trailed off, looking at him expectantly. He caught on and turned to face you, grinning.

“Steve. Steve Harrington.”

He extended a hand towards you. You hesitated for a moment, caught off-guard by the simplicity of the gesture from someone like him, but you took it, telling him your own name. His much bigger hand was warm and calloused, shaking yours firmly before pulling away.

You stared at him intently, desperately trying to figure him out as you placed your cigarette between your lips and inhaled. It was hard to figure out what exactly his deal was - but, he was talking to you like you were an actual person, so that was at least a step above most of the people you’d waited on here.

When he finished rolling, he stuck the cigarette between his lips, then sighed. 

“Shit - d’you have a light?”

You nodded, reaching into your handbag and pulling out your small blue lighter. He leaned in close, close enough that you could faintly smell his cologne, feel the heat radiating off of him in the cool May evening. It took a moment for the flame to catch, then he was leaning back and he took a drag, letting his eyes flutter shut.

You looked away quickly, staring at the street ahead. Your black cocktail dress didn’t offer much coverage, causing you to shiver slightly as a breeze picked up. It was Steve who broke the silence, after a few moments.

“I want to apologize, by the way - my, uh, colleagues… they’re assholes.”

You nearly choked at his words, whipping around to face him.

“I’m sorry… what?”

“I - I don’t know how much you heard in there, but -”

“I heard enough,” you said quickly.

His face fell, then hardened. He looked… angry? Or, perhaps disappointed.

“I really am sorry. I know I probably should have said something, but…Brenner’s my boss. And, there’s a lot of people who would kill to work for him. So, you have to understand… I mean, Tommy and Billy, they’re real jerks. I can’t stand them, most of the time. So, just know that if you want to punch them in the face, I’d understand.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head. 

“Well, just between you and me, I do want to punch them. But… I would really like to keep my job, and actually get a good tip at the end of the night. So, if I can make it through the next -” you glanced at your watch, “- half an hour or so, I’ll be alright. I’m kind of used to it anyway, working here.”

You felt his eyes on you, but didn’t turn to meet his gaze. Then, he said more softly, “I’m sorry to hear that. Really.”

You shrugged. 

“It’s fine. But, thank you - most people don’t take the time to say that, I guess.”

A moment of semi-awkward silence fell between you and him, before you added, “But, it’s good to know that I apparently have a nice ass.”

He laughed at that, choking on the smoke he was inhaling.

“Oh God - Billy and Tommy really are the worst. Did you hear that they actually were trying to make a bet about you in there?”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.

“What kind of bet?”

He suddenly broke eye contact, staring straight ahead as he shook his head vigorously.

“You know what - nevermind, you’d be disgusted -”

“Well now you have to tell me,” you conceded, inching closer. “C’mon, it can’t be that bad -”

“They said if I manage to get you to go home with me tonight, they’d agree on this huge deal with HNL that they’ve been trying to close with our European counterpart for months - they said it because they knew it wouldn’t happen, of course, I don’t really -”

“What would you get?” you asked bluntly.

“Huh?”

“If they thought you won the bet, like, would that be good for your job?”

He scoffs, nodding fervently.

“Um, yes - my yearly bonus would probably quadruple -”

“Then let’s do it,” you said.

His mouth fell open, and he was staring at you like you had three heads.

“Do what, exactly?”

He suddenly looked flushed, frozen in place as he stared at you. You felt a devilish grin spread on your face as you looked back at him, stubbing out the cigarette with the toe of your shoe.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, Harrington.”

*****

You had made sure he arrived back at the table only moments before you. The group of cajoling men were louder now, Tommy slurring his words and Billy in a heated debate with Brenner. Steve flashed a smile at the group, then started sipping his drink as if he had never left.

“What I’m saying is, if we offer them 14 percent -”

“Well, at that rate, we may as well sell them the whole goddamn company -”

“We’re going to have to budge at least a little if we want to make headway, otherwise Upside Tech might outbid us -”

“Harrington!” Tommy cried over the other two men. “Where th’hell ‘ave you been? You left me stranded with these two, they’re actually trying to work right now -”

Then, he spotted you, suddenly flashing a grin that was too wide for your liking.

“Mademoiselle - might I say, I think you’ve only gotten hotter since I last saw you -”

“That was only about twenty minutes ago,” Steve said firmly, cutting Tommy off. “Also, we’re in Italy, not France.”

Tommy waved him off, leaning closer across the table, towards where you stood. 

“May I ask, how’re you getting home tonight, little lady?”

You just smiled.

“I’m actually so happy you brought that up - while I appreciate your concern and all, I’ve got that covered.”

You then turned to Steve, who froze in place.

“Ready to go, Steve?” you asked innocently.

All conversation stopped, then, the other men around the table stopped to gape at him. A smug smirk appeared on Steve’s face, and he stood up slowly, smoothing out his suit.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Despite yourself, your heart fluttered at the pet name, as ridiculous as it felt. 

“What?” Billy said, his jaw nearly on the floor.

But before they could ask any more questions, Steve was holding out his bent arm, which you graciously hooked yourself through. You pressed yourself into his side, flashing another grin back at the group.

“I’ve left your bill on the table - thank you gentlemen for a wonderful evening, and we hope to see you soon!”

Then Steve surveyed the table, adding, “I suspect you’ll be in touch about negotiation meetings shortly? Since that was the deal and all. I’ll see you at the office on Monday.”

Then, you and Steve turned a corner and headed out the door, to where a car was already waiting for you.

Steve gestured for you to go in ahead of him, opening the backseat door. You slid across, greeting the driver quickly and Steve followed, shutting the door behind you. The second it was closed, you both looked at each other, and burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Oh my God - did you see their faces?”

“I’m going to live on that for years,” he added, fighting to breathe. You threw your head back, practically cackling at the memory of their dumbfounded expressions.

“That was amazing,” Steve said, regaining his composure. “Seriously, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it - I think I got off of it more than you.”

“I doubt that.”

You met his gaze, and your breath stopped for a moment. He really was handsome, his honey-brown eyes staring into yours with such sincerity that it was actually overwhelming. You looked away quickly, staring straight ahead.

“Well, if anything, it made my shift more interesting, so thanks,” you said, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“Yeah, and you just made me my yearly bonus, so thank you.”

After a moment, he cleared his throat. 

“So, uh, where do you live? So I can get you home.”

“Oh! Right,” you said. “Um, do you have any ID or anything?”

Steve furrowed his brow, confused.

“Why are you asking?”

“Look, don’t take this personally - I’ve watched way too much Criminal Minds in my life. And, while I’m sure you’re nice and all, I’m not exactly gonna tell a strange man I’ve never met where I live without some precautions. So, I’m going to take a picture of your ID and send it to my roommate, so she knows who to turn in if I end up on the news, yeah?”

Steve just smirked, and pulled out his wallet.

“So, you think I’m strange?”

You shrugged, fighting a smile.

“Obviously, yes.”

Steve chuckled softly, fishing his license out of his wallet.

“Fair enough - as long as you’re not trying to steal my identity or anything.”

“Oh, definitely,” you said sarcastically. “I was actually going to buy a mansion in your name, if that’s alright.”

He laughed, handing you the card as you took a photo. The address was in Indiana - interesting. He was also 30, judging from his birthday - nearly ten years older than you. Also interesting. You handed it back, shooting a quick text to Robin:

I’ll explain later, but in case I get murdered!

You attached the photo and pressed send. 

Satisfied, you leaned forward, telling your address to the driver, who nodded and pulled onto the busy city street.

You leaned back in your seat, staring out the window. You passed dimly-lit alleyways and bustling restaurants, groups smoking on the sidewalk and couples kissing on benches as the evening started winding down. The silence in the car is comfortable enough, considering that you met the man beside you a few hours ago. It’s him who breaks the lull in conversation, once again.

“So, why did you do it?” he asked quietly.

“Hm?”

“The bet? Well, kind of - at least, why did you make it look like I - like we -”

You shrugged, shifting to face him.

“Honestly?”

He nodded, gaze fixed on you.

“Well - a few reasons, I guess. I knew it would get those jerks off of my back. And, I knew it would help you, with your bonus and all.”

“And why did you want to help me, though? You know nothing about me.”

“Not true,” you said firmly. “I know one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’re kind.”

It was simple, but true - for the type of clientele you usually served, he was a rare breed. Maybe it wasn’t much, but it was something.

“I mean, you were nice to me, and actually treated me like a person. I can’t say that for a lot of people, not in that place.”

“Oh,” he said softly. 

A beat. Two. Then, he added, “Oh no - I didn’t even ask, did you have a car, back at the restaurant? Because we can go back and get it -”

“No, don’t worry about it - I don’t have one. I usually take the bus.”

“Oh - alright.”

You tried to stop yourself from rolling your eyes - Steve probably wouldn’t be caught dead on a bus. Or any public transport, for that matter. But, you kept it within yourself, and turned out towards the window again - the sights were getting more familiar, the buildings a little more run-down - closer to home.

You noticed your phone light up in your lap, and glanced down - a response from Robin.

Um… congrats???? Getting laid???? You’d better tell me EVERYTHING!!!!

You laughed under your breath, and saw Steve move to look at you out of the corner of your eye, curious. Before you could respond to her message, the car came to a halt right outside of your apartment building. You sighed, and turned to face the man beside you.

“Well, this is me. Thank you. For the ride home, I mean - you didn’t really have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” Steve said, waving a hand. “Had to make sure you got home safely and all, it was the least I could do.”

You both looked at each other for a moment, faces soft. You shot him another appreciative smile, and popped open the car door.

“Goodnight, Steve Harrington. Until we meet again!”

You knew the chances of seeing him ever again were slim at best, but it felt like the right thing to say, given the hilarity of the situation. After slamming the door shut, you rooted through your bag for your keys, taking the steps up to your door two at a time. Before heading inside, you turned and waved to the car one more time - Steve wasn’t visible through the tinted windows, but you liked to imagine that he was waving back, maybe even smiling fondly. 

******

Two days later, an envelope was pushed through the mail slot in your door. It was Robin who brought it in, plopping it down on the kitchen table as you sipped your coffee.

“What’s that?” you asked.

She shrugged, carding through the other envelopes and flyers.

“Don’t know. But, it’s made out to you. The envelope looks fancy though - I mean, who the Hell puts a wax seal on letters anymore?”

You felt your heart skip a beat, and snatched it up, turning it over in your hands - it was thick, the nice kind of stationary that you had to go out of your way to buy. There was a return address, but it seemed like it was for an office building of some kind, with no name associated. And, right on the center, a red wax seal with an H. You felt your face grow hot, your stomach doing somersaults as you practically tore the thing open.

Inside was a simple piece of paper with a note scrawled on it. After writing out your name, it read:

Thank you again, for the other night. You have no idea how much that helped me out. Plus, it was probably the best time I’ve had at a work event… well, ever. But, since you provided such great service… you really should be tipped appropriately. I also made sure to leave a glowing review with your manager the next day. Buy yourself something nice.

S.H.

You glanced back in the envelope, and gasped - loudly enough that Robin stopped what she was doing, and joined you in her awe.

“Is that -”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “It’s a shit ton of money.”

He had sent a stack of €100 notes - you hadn’t counted yet, but it had to be over €1,000, at least. 

“Dude, that’s like, at least two months’ rent right there, right?” Robin asks, flabbergasted.

“I - yeah.”

“Okay, be honest - are you a drug dealer? Is that, like, a side gig you’ve got going?”

You shook your head incredulously, gripping the money - the most cash you had ever held at one time in your life.

“No,” you admitted. “That would be a lot easier to explain.” Steve Harrington, you thought to yourself, what’s your deal?

Notes: a brand new fic! A ton of credit goes to my friend Em, who indulges my fantasies and headcanons with plenty of ideas of her own. Also, I've never been to Rome, so bear with me here. Also, please always read content warnings before reading each part!

Reply if you'd like to be added to the taglist

[maebird-melody]

hi hello can you provide context for yr death-defying german stunts? that sounds badass

Sure! It was mostly my own idiocy that led to it, haha.

I was studying abroad on a music program in college, and our practice rooms were located on the second floor above a winery. The owners of the winery lived in the back half of the building, which was in a kind of L-shape. It also backed up against a hill that was overgrown with trees and shrubs, impossible to navigate. Our program director gave us a key to unlock the iron gate at the front and another to unlock the ground floor door which led directly into a stairwell to the second floor. Now, I should note that up to this point, I had not made the mistake of leaving the communal key behind.

I recently visited my sister in Europe and we spent some time in Heidelberg, so I actually have pictures of the building. The door we entered was in the back corner, beneath the carport overhang.

It was a seven minute bike ride from our hostel to the music building, and when I arrived, the iron gate that usually closed off the little courtyard and driveway where we locked our bikes was open. Further, a small group of elementary students would also sometimes use the building for classes, so when I checked the door, it was unlocked. The point being, I did not at any point check my pockets to see if I had the keys on me because I did not need them.

I spent a few hours practicing piano, even heard the cleaning lady come and go. But I liked practicing in the music building most when it was empty and quiet. Then I noticed it was getting dark out. We had some sort of event going on that night, and I was already running late since I’d lost track of time. Figured it was time to go.

I opened the door at the top of the stairs, walked down the steps, and tried to open the ground floor door. Locked.

Strange. In America, you would normally still be able to open a locked door from inside the building. No problem, though, right? Just get the key out and unlock it. Except my pockets were empty. I checked them and my music bag twice for good measure. It’s at this point that I realize I’ve left them behind.

Now, maybe I can call someone. I got the ability to make international calls shortly after arriving in Germany, so I should be able to call one of my program mates and explain the whole embarrassing situation to them.

No cell service. I try every inch of the building. Even standing on the counter in the bathroom and holding my phone out the window. I can’t get a single call or text to go through. I’m in a complete dead zone.

At this point I sit on the bathroom floor and cry. I’m gonna be stuck here until morning. I missed dinner and I’m already hungry. I’m at the whims of the next person to enter this building. Will anyone miss me? Surely they won’t assume that I just decided to ditch the event. Will they even notice I’m gone? I’m the only one of us staying in a room alone, after all.

Another important note about my time abroad, however. There were only seven of us total, a very small program, and when I first arrived in Frankfurt, an hour outside of Heidelberg—the town where I’d be staying—I was the only one coming in on a different plane since I didn’t live in California. Through various mishaps, I got left behind at the airport (a story for another time perhaps). The experience of being a young twenty-year-old, alone in a foreign country where I didn’t speak the language, stuck navigating on my own dime and by my own wits to an unfamiliar city, I think, understandably, left me distraught. My RA, however—another one of the program students—did not agree. He wanted to send me home before the program even began. Didn’t believe I had what it took to study abroad. That I lacked emotional fortitude.

The thought of proving him right gave me the courage to dust myself off and try to solve this problem on my own.

So first thing, I check my options. Are there any fire escapes? Other doors I might’ve missed? None that I can see. There is a high wall separating the building from the back of the adjoining property, probably 10-15 feet tall. It passes under the bathroom window, but that window is too high up and its opening too small for me to fit through. I try going up to the third floor, as if going up would actually help, but the door to the third floor is locked anyways.

Next, I check the windows in each practice room. There are six rooms in total, five that line the right side of the building and look down into the courtyard, and one large room at the end of the hall where we have our conducting classes, with windows that look down onto the street. These windows are in a German style where they open either upwards or inwards like doors, no screens on them, giving me a large enough opening to pass through.

Now the classroom’s windows that overlook the street only have a sheer drop down the side of the building. I could try reaching the drain pipe and shimmying down it, but there’s no guarantee it would hold my weight or that I could reach it from the corner window. Same deal with the windows over the awning, it doesn’t look strong enough to support my weight. I may have only weighed 105 lbs in college, but that was still more than I imagined these non-load-bearing structures were used to.

The first two practice rooms have a view over the carport cover these days, but ten years ago that wasn’t there.

Finally, I come to the very back corner window in the very first practice room. From here, I can see the living quarters of the winery owners. They have a little balcony with a wrought iron-iron railing around it. I could probably make that jump, right?

Granted, it takes me a bit to psych myself up. What if they see me and think I’m some kind of burglar? The curtains are drawn, so hopefully they won’t even notice. It’s probably only a five-foot gap in total, but it feels so much further when you’re standing on a window ledge.

From where I stood, I didn’t know there was a staircase down to the courtyard that led from the balcony, so I thought I’d have to run down the conveyor belt they used for the wine.

I start by tossing my music bag onto the balcony. When it lands safely without scattering my sheet music everywhere, I breathe a sigh of relief. The next part requires me to make the jump, however.

I hold the sides of the window for support, then launch myself at an angle, catching the railing of the balcony and pulling myself over to safety. I sure did wish I’d noticed the massive spiderweb covering the entire window before I’d jumped straight through it, though.

From there, I discovered the staircase and ended up in the courtyard. I did almost immediately go back up the stairs and round the building to the back, hoping to ford through the foliage up the hill rather than jump the iron fence like some sort of criminal, in view of a well-trafficked street. I puttered around the 15-foot wall for awhile, wondering if I could escape through the backs of the other buildings. But finally, I gave in and jumped the fence, trying to time it for when the fewest possible people lined the street (not hard since it was late at night by this point).

The rest of the saga involves walking twenty minutes to the hostel to retrieve the keys, then walking another twenty back to the practice building so I could a) go upstairs and close the window I’d left open and b) retrieve my bike, which in no way would have made it over the fence if I’d tried throwing it.

I had to explain to the RA why I’d missed the event, and he was none too pleased. I double- checked that the key was on me every time after that, scared I’d get reprimanded for my thoughtlessness if it ever happened again.

So, not so much a tale of daring as a comedy of errors. It was unpleasant at the time to go through, but makes for a great story now at least!

@leasayswhat was abroad with me, idk if you remember this tale of woe 😅 — I might be misremembering the specifics of the key situation as well but I think I got it mostly right.

[adlamu]

I'm always down to hear a ghost story :)

okay, so! for some context, the row of houses within the hq grounds were pulled down stone by stone from their original street and rebuilt stone by stone in the grounds as a preservation thing - everything else is 100% purely original within the parc padarn grounds (like the hq building, train line, and quarry hospital).

when i was growing up it was the place for school trips and my mum worked at the quarry hospital museum for several years so i was over there a lot - moreso when all of the museums became free, because it was something to do and i liked going to work with mam.

i've had multiple experiences, mostly in the quarry hospital, then in gilfach ddu most of them were in manager's apartment, y caban (the quarrymen's cafeteria on-site), and 2/4 of the houses - specifically the Nid Oes Bradwr (there is no traitor) house and the 1960s house.

quarry hospital:

i picked up a phone handset of a landline that hadn't been connected in 80yrs at the time (and could not be connected because it was old-fashioned 1920s pins) and heard a dial tone.

witnessed two apothecary drawers open by themselves.

heard men's voices talking in the empty ward room before opening time.

saw indents in two separate beds as though someone were lying on and sitting on them.

strong smell of fresh blood (it normally smelled of years of dried blood & cleaning product) in the examination room.

footsteps up and down the hallway when it was just me and my mum in the building.

heard two Heavy doors open and close by themselves after closing when all the staff, me, and my sister were all in the staff room - we all heard it and we all investigated to find nothing.

got told to 'get out' of the examination room by a very distinct male voice when it was literally just me in there and no one else but mam in the building.

outside morgue shed having stench of fresh blood - it hasn't been used in well over 100yrs by then.

outside morgue shed also having a great sense of Fear inside (when it wasn't locked, you could go inside) and me and three separate people heard 'help!' in a heavy welsh accent while we were in there.

outside morgue shed whilst with my mam i heard someone ask 'am i dead?' and i looked at mam who said 'what d'you mean are you dead?' all in welsh.

manager's apartment:

saw a faint/whispy image of a girl in the closed off, inaccessible kitchen, stood by the stove.

smelled strong, fresh pipe tobacco smoke in the sitting room.

saw two keys on the piano being pushed down by themselves but no sound came out.

heard a heavy-accented welsh woman's voice say 'welcome' in english when me and my sister were the first ones in amongst a group of english tourists.

y caban:

heard a man's voice say 'hogyn Jos bach wyt ti?' (little jonesy's boy, aren't you?) in a completely empty caban because me and my sister were the only two in the area and she could smell heavy pipe tobacco - our great-grandad worked there and was referred to as 'jos bach', apparently.

saw one of the clogs at the hang up move to the other end of the area by itself.

saw one of the coats' collars pop up by itself - followed immediately by another coat's sleeve moving upward by itself.

smelled a very distinct smell of fresh bread (this is before they put food in the canteens).

saw one of the benches move by itself - in front of me and my sister, two american tourists, an english family, and a german couple.

nid oes bradwr house:

the feeling of being glared at in the upstairs when speaking english.

seeing a shadow in a Very lit living area that felt >:| before i spoke to my mam in welsh - specifically about the traditional big bible they had on the table.

seeing an english tourist get ponked by cheese w/ Nobody near the cheese (which was in a closed off section to stop people getting at the cheese).

hearing 'gad lonydd i'r tân' (leave the fire be) in a man's voice when the room was full of women.

witnessing an english man turn & apologise to nothing 3 separate times in one visit because he'd been poked in the side.

hearing heavy footsteps upstairs when it was closed off.

1960s house:

strong, Strong smell of toast in one specific part of the kitchen - there was no toaster in there at the time and it smelled fresh - food & drink are not allowed inside any of the houses.

hearing running water in the bathroom - none of the houses are connected to any plumbing.

seeing a dress in the washroom be inspected by something - the hem was moved up and dropped.

four of the toys in the teenager's room moved in separate intervals while i was talking to a friend, in welsh, about how that was the kind of room my taid would have had in the 50s.

saw records in the teenager's room move like they were being flicked through.

saw the bed in the teenager's room get a Huge indent like someone sat down in it - you cannot go into the rooms, the doors are blocked off from the waist down and there was no one in there.

the adults' room smelled very strongly of cheap perfume but all the lady's stuff on the dressing table were Very clearly empty and sealed.

hearing faint music coming from upstairs when the upstairs was blocked off... Several times.

being pushed in the back by nobody when i said 'swn i'm yn rhoid gwyrdd 'na efo'r llechan, de' (i wouldn't put that green with the slate) to my sister.

hearing 'diolch' (thank you) in a woman's voice when i left the house through the back door with a friend of mine last time i visited in 2022, when it was 'four at a time' bc covid rules at the time when i automatically said thank you (as though i were leaving my nain's or smth) - the friend is american and the couple ahead of us were english and had already left the area.

and that is all the stuff i remember experiencing lmaoooo

[yujo-nishimura]

Tsukuba - Part 2

I am doing a course on creative nonfiction at the University right now and I thought it would be time to get the creative nonfiction I used to write out into the world. These are just bits and pieces of a short novella - nothing is proof-read and this was translated from German into English.

After the concert in Osaka, I received a message on my phone that said, "Meet me at the east exit." Knowing that I would have to wait for a while, I took my time leaving the hall and bought myself another beer at the exit just to keep myself occupied. The evening was colder than usual for this time of year. I wrapped myself in my scarf as the air buzzed with the heated excitement of the concertgoers slowly making their way home.

I stood at the east exit, clutching my beer. His little blue car was right by the door - he had driven here alone all the way. We never talked about his work. It was an unspoken agreement between us, just like we didn't talk about our age gap.

Tired from standing for so long, I wanted nothing more than to sit on the ground, but I knew it would only cause annoyance and people judging me. Some fans had come to the east exit, noticed his car, and now they were doing the same as me - standing around. I sent him a message.

"I'm here, but so are the others."

Just a few seconds later, I received a reply.

"Maybe you want to go to the hotel first, and we can meet there?"

"No problem. Did you make a reservation?"

He had told me just before he left that he would book a double room for the two of us, but he hadn't told me where or if we would split the costs.

"The Marriott. Reservation under your name," was the reply I received, and from the brevity of the message, I immediately sensed that those were all the details I would get for now.

Several taxis drove past on the street beside me, many of them occupied. The fans around me stood closer together now. Some more of them had noticed the car, and perhaps they had multiplied like bees—one had informed the other, and now they were all slowly coming here, hoping to see him.

I stepped to the side of the road, looking hopefully in the direction from which the cars were coming, determined to extend my arm as soon as a taxi came into sight. For a while, nothing happened, and then suddenly I heard a loud sigh and screaming. The gate to the east exit had opened and H. was standing by his car. I turned around briefly, he didn't see me, didn't want to look over the fans to see me, and I showed no interest either. At least he was early enough for us to be able to buy something to eat.

Just as he got into his car and the bodyguards kept the screaming crowd at bay, a taxi stopped right in front of me.

"Osaka Marriott Miyako Hotel, please," I said as I got in. Suddenly excitement burned within me. Who would be faster?

I arrived after ten minutes. I entered the lobby and didn't see him at the entrance or the reception. So I had won the little race—maybe only because my taxi driver was a true Osaka resident who knew the city like the back of his hand and bombarded me with all sorts of information in broken English during the ride. He probably thought I was a tourist and that it was my first time here. This was the sixth or seventh time I had visited Osaka, and when I asked for a receipt in Japanese as I got out, he was very disappointed and embarrassed that he had been trying to speak English with me the whole time. I thanked him anyway for the city tour and his efforts—forced hospitality was always better than hostility.

I didn't like the lights in the hotel. There were ornate chandeliers with LED lights—it was supposed to be chic and elegant, but the bright light contradicted that. Leather chairs were arranged around glass tables—I knew why H. had chosen this hotel—it perfectly matched his taste. Sterile cleanliness and elegance. It felt like being in a museum— you may look, but don't touch anything.

At least the bar looked friendly, and I longed for a Japanese shochu on the rocks—as soon as I checked in, I would treat myself to one or maybe two.

I approached the friendly receptionist, smiled, and said that the reservation was under my name. She checked and nodded kindly, then asked, "Honeymoon Suite?"

I sighed at his audacity.

"Yes, I suppose so."

"It has already been paid for by card. Here's your key, room 545. Will your husband be checking in later?"

"I hope so."

She laughed, but I was serious.

[theaestheticofsound]

i remember

circa 2006, first grade.

I remember hearing about the Bermuda Triangle and planes getting lost all over the world. I remember being terrified of quicksand. I vaguely remember thinking "Why aren't my parents afraid of this?" but my parents' constant reassurance quenched my fear to merely distant worry, even as we flew to Bermuda right the year after.

circa 2009, fourth grade.

I remember hearung about the chicken industry. I remember the documentary we had to watch, and to see chicken held in tiny cages. Born in captivity, living in darkness, their only worth seen as egg machines. I remember hearing about mass chick culling. I remember laying in my high bed, thinking about these poor animals, unable to stop crying. Eventually my mum heard me, and she might've cried a little with me, but she reassured me that most chickens were not held that way anymore, and my tears dried up.

Looking back I also remember only seeing egg cartons labeled "cage system housing" because those were cheaper than free-range eggs.

circa 2012, sixth grade.

I remember having to prepare a presentation on global warming and emissions. I remember knowing my parents were not the biggest fans of "climate change". I remember looking up pictures and seeing a picture that showed volcanoes made up 90% of gas emissions, and humans only about 6%. I remember complaining about confusing sources to my parents, and them exclaiming "You finally understand it!"

I remember holding that very presentation, unenthusiastically and deeply unconvinced of what I said, loudly exclaiming to my peers during the break that I also found controversial sources about global warming.

2015, ninth grade.

I remember the war in Syria, and the waves if refugees coming to Europe. I remember the horrible, horrible pictures of basic camps set up in Turkey, far below any humanitarian standard we usually have. I remember Angela Merkel's "We can do this." ("Wir schaffen das.")

I remember talking to friends in school and discussing this in Social Studies, almost unevoquial consent of opinion that this is right and that we, in fact, can do this.

I remember my family scoffing at the "We can do this"; protesting and cursing about the refugees who "only come here to profit off of Germany's economy" behind closed doors. I remember the right-wing party Alternative for Germany (AfD) getting popular, echoing my parents' views and fears of the incoming wave of immigrants. I barely remember ever speaking up against this, but rather rolling eyes at my parents and sighing when they went off on a tirade. I do however remember them saying to me "You're always so terribly tolerant."

I remember keeping my opinion to myself, because I would not get any backup.

2017, eleventh grade.

I remember sitting on my parents' grey couch when a news reporter spoke about the official decision of the German parliament to legalise same-sex marriage. I was generally not keeping up with daily news as it has proven to be a constant source of conflict between me and my parents, since we usually were on opposite sides when it came to humanitarian problems of our society. So hearing this news out of the blue came as a big, but happy surprise for me.

I remember my parents getting annoyed with that decision, and me for once picking a fight; arguing with them, telling them it wouldn't make a difference to their lives at all, but it would a huge difference to others and that Germany should be ashamed to be so late to the game. I remember my parents significantly quieting down after that, rather grumbling to themselves than arguing with me.

I remember my heart breaking as I realised my suspicions were proven true, and that my parents would not be happy with me coming out.

I remember sheltering in my room, keeping my opinions close to my chest for an indefinite future.

2018, final grade of school / first year of university.

I remember the beginning of Skolstrejk för klimatet and when the name Greta Thunberg started appearing in the news. I remember being awed with her bravery and resilience to start such a thing all by herself. I remember the regular Fridays for Future and scoffing at pupils who would ditch school to go to the strikes but then also wouldn't turn up during holidays.

I remember meeting my friends from university, who had much more radical and decisive opinions about Climate Change. I remember finally freeing myself from the last doubts of the veracity of Climate Change, despite my parents' constant quotation of news articles that proved the whole thing to be blown out of proportions. I remember starting to pick fights with my parents again, trying to shoot holes in opinions they've had since before my existence, and failing.

I also remember them keeping their opinions more to themselves around me, as they too weren't keen on having constant debates about politics.

September 2019, second year of uni.

I remember Greta Thunberg's iconic UN Climate Action Summit speech - How dare you. I remember breaking into tears, as all of my fears and anger were finally put into words and brought up to some of the most influential people on Earth.

I remember the relentless taunts of grownups on the internet, mocking Greta's words, twisting and mocking everything she said, not taking any of this seriously.

2020-2021, second-third year of uni.

I remember Covid starting, and the first lockdown happening. I remember feeling celebratory at the thought of having an additional free month before the new semester starts. I remember triple the stress of a normal semester once it did start. I remember a long gruesome summer as I prepared for a state exam. I remember high tensions when my oarents were around, and my hope of moving out once the exam was finally over.

I remember uni starting up again in October, and feeling empty and unmotivated during dark mornings in front of my laptop. I remember starting a job and looking for flats. I remember a warm Christmas and signing a contract for my new flat a couple weeks later. I remember getting bullied at work, but unable to quit as I needed the money to move out. I remember a cold, extremely snowy winter that followed two months later. I remember heaps of snow as high as cars piling up everywhere, blocking cars in, in a desperate attempt to keep the sidewalks walkable.

I remember taking fitfy-five minutes for a twenty minute walk through knee deep snow to my end-of-term exams when all the other transportation options failed.

I remember my parents gloating "Look who's talking now about Global Warming."

2022.

I remember talking to friends about the possibility of having children. I remember half of them saying they wouldn't want to set kids into a world that is doomed to fail.

2023.

I bought The Climate Book by Greta Thunberg on a whim. As I'm slowly progressing through the book, I'm recognising the impact of my parents' opinions and my inability and unwillingness to deal with pressing matters for the first time.

I'm also fully realising for the first time how utterly fucked we are in terms of the future and how little it seems we can change about this as individuals.

I'm humbled and so very grateful that a girl three years younger than me has had the realisation way before me, and that she stuck to her guns and fought for all of us, despite any hardships and mocking and hatred you can do easily find on the internet. She's truly an icon of our time, and i hope that with our current climate movement we can prevent the worst of outcomes and live a long and happy life on our little blue planet, the only home that we have.

So now, instead of remembering I try to live in the present to change the future.

But i will not forget.

I will remember.

[atarahderek]

A Beloved Murderer

A transcript from the pages of Jesus Freaks Vol. II: Revolutionaries

Richard and Sabina Wurmbrand

Romania, 1940s

"In the concentration camp where I worked, I killed many Jews, even Jews with children in their arms," the man boasted to Pastor Wurmbrand. He had just come back from the front fighting for the Nazis and was proud of his accomplishments. He was glad to tell of them to anyone who would listen. Having heard the good German name Wurmbrand, the man must have had no idea that the pastor he spoke with was a Jew.

In response to being "privileged" with hearing of the man's barbarity and murdering, most Christians would have been at a loss for words. But not Pastor Wurmbrand. He promptly and affectionately invited the man to his home for dinner. The man loved music, and when Pastor Wurmbrand told him he would play the piano for him, he said he would be glad to come.

When the man arrived that evening, there were some other believers present, but his wife, Sabina, was feeling ill, so she stayed in her room. Pastor Wurmbrand played the piano for them all, and they had a wonderful evening together enjoying the music. After that they all had a long discussion into the night, further enjoying one another's company.

When it had grown quite late, Pastor Wurmbrand turned to the soldier and said, "Sir, I have to tell you something. You must promise me that you will listen for ten minutes quietly. After that ten minutes you can say whatever you would like."

The man was smiling broadly from all he had enjoyed that evening and said quite warmly, "All right, all right, you can speak to me even more than ten minutes. I promise that I will not interrupt you. You can say whatever you like."

"In the other room," the pastor began, "my wife is sleeping. She is Jewish and I am Jewish too. Her family, which is also my family, perished in the big Nazi concentration camp where you boasted that you killed Jews with children still in their arms. So you are presumably the very murderer of my family.

"Now, I propose an experiment. We will pass into the other room and I will tell my wife who you are. I can assure you my wife will not speak one word of reproach to you, nor will she look angrily at you, but will smile at you as at every honored guest. She will go and prepare coffee and cookies for you. You will be received just like everyone else. Now, if my wife, who is only human, can do this, if she can love you like this, knowing what you have done, and can forgive you, then how much more will Jesus, who is love?"

The man began to tear at his jacket. "What have I done? What have I done? I am guilty of so much blood."

The pastor said, "Well, then, let us kneel down and ask for forgiveness from God."

They knelt. First Pastor Wurmbrand said a short prayer; then the man, who did not know how to pray, said again and again, "Jesus forgive me. Jesus forgive me. I believe that You will forgive me." There were many tears, and then he and the pastor embraced.

"I have promised you an experiment. Now we will go to see my wife."

Sabina had heard nothing while sleeping in the other room far away in the house from the main room where they had been speaking. They went to her and Pastor Wurmbrand woke her. "Do you know this man?" Pastor Wurmbrand began.

"No," she replied sleepily.

So he introduced the man. "This is the murderer of your sisters, your brothers and your parents. But now he has repented and he is our brother in the Messiah, our brother in the faith. What do you have to say to him?"

She fell around his neck and they both wept together.

[aventurasdeunatortuga]

Guatemala Day 14-17

Flores / Tikal

The past few days were spent in the town of Flores in northeastern Guatemala, in the state of Petén. The climate is very different from Antigua and Atitlan, as we are no longer in the mountains. It is very hot and humid here. Flores is on an island in the middle of a lake and it takes about 20 minutes to walk around the entire island.

I stayed in a backpacker hostel and while it was a very nice backpacker hostel I think I’m at a point where I’ve had enough of them. The constant drunk people, dirty laundry everywhere, and no personal space plus the extreme heat got to me. The drunk girl peeing all over her bunkbed in the dorm I was in was the final straw and I switched to a private room for my last night.

While I am technically backpacking myself I’ve gotten really sick of being around backpackers the last few days. They’re not all bad, but so many of them are really entitled and disrespectful to locals. They spend a lot of time loudly speaking English or German or Dutch and leaving garbage everywhere in various states of undress and their main concern being where the next party is and where the alcohol is. A lot of restaurants cater their menu to these crowds and to be honest I found myself hearing more Dutch than Spanish the last few days and going to two different restaurants to find only American and Dutch food on the menu. It seems like another form of colonialism where white people come in expecting locals to cater to them and their culture. I know I’m part of that just being a white American traveling and I try really hard to be respectful and not expect people to cater to me but it’s a much larger, more complex issue than that.

Sorry for the cranky old rant but I was so honestly embarrassed to be around fellow tourists the past few days. The multiple people putting their bare feet by my head while taking transportation and witnessing people wandering into restaurants shirtless, barefoot, and yelling in English made me so grumpy. Like do you behave like that in your home country?

Anyway the reason most people come to Flores is to visit the Mayan ruins of Tikal. Tikal was built by the Itzá Maya (the same who built Chichén Itzá) and was at one point the capital of the Mayan civilization. They were also related to the group that built Palenque in Mexico. It consists of 5 main pyramids which were all used to bury royalty. There were countless other structures as well which have yet to be excavated as well as multiple manmade lakebeds which have since dried up.

We climbed 2 of the 5 pyramids and watched the sunset from the top of another structure. Tikal is in the middle of very dense rainforest. We saw lots of coatis, spider monkeys, wild turkeys, and toucans and heard lots of roaring howler monkeys. I swear they sound just like jaguars.

We were lucky with the weather because it had rained earlier in the day and cooled things off significantly and while we kept hearing thunder it didn’t actually rain while we were there. Tropical thunderstorms can be very intense.

It was dark when we climbed down from the last structure and our guide was able to get the site police to come pick us up in his pickup truck and we rode in the back out of the jungle instead of walking 40 minutes in the dark.

My last day in Flores I didn’t do much due to how sick of being around people I was. I did spontaneously go on a boat ride around the lake which was pretty but also weird because I was the only one there and then it started downpouring.

Currently I am in the town of Lívingston on the Belizean border. It took over 12 hours to get here because of how isolated of a community it is. First I took a four hour bus to the head of Rio Dulce, a large river that reminds me a lot of the Amazon. Then I waited 4.5 hours for a boat since Lívingston is surrounded by dense jungle and is only accessible by boat. Then I road in a boat for 2 hours and finally arrived just before the thunderstorm hit.

On the boat I met an older Mayan man named Gabriel and we talked for a while. He asked how he could visit the US and I didn’t even know where to begin with how complicated that would be. Rich white countries are allowed to visit wherever they want at any time and have the economic privilege to do so due to imperialism but it is next to impossible for folks from countries that have been taken advantage of to do the same. Gabriel and I talked for a while, he sells handcrafts and gives tours of the area. He also shared his coconut bread with me. He offered to take me on a tour tomorrow and while he seemed really nice my stranger danger radar was going off at the thought of going on a boat by myself as a solo traveler with someone I met in passing.

I always doubt myself with decisions like that. I want to be spontaneous and not be distrustful of others or hiding in my room all the time but I also feel very hyperaware all the time of how I’m a young woman travelling by herself in a place I don’t know and I never know when I’m just being paranoid or being smart. It’s exhausting.

Anyway right now I’m staring into a bowl of pasta I don’t if I’ll be able to eat because of a stomachache and watching the lightning storm on the river. I’ll be sleeping in a hut the next few days but it’s a pretty nice hut.

Overall I think I’m getting close to wanting to go home. I’m noticing myself getting easily exhausted and frustrated and not looking forward to things, which usually tends to happen at the end of a long trip. I’m hoping I can enjoy the next few days here regardless because I really am grateful for the opportunity to be here and to travel.

[primis-marshmallow]

Two German Scientists

Chapter 5

Dr Brandt had been pleasantly surprised at a job offer to work for the secret government organisation Omega. However, things take a turn when her boss decides she’s more of a nuisance than a valuable member of the group. How will Dr Brandt survive when thrust into a new world, one where the actions of four men will dictate the survival of the universe?

Now that the threat of the creatures had apparently died down, the others started setting up a camp with whatever materials they could find. They leave me in the same room they took me to before. My limbs feel weak and strained, my head consumed by a dull ache. After a while though, I decide I need to help. Taking the blankets and pillows from the room, I walk over to a larger room, adjacent to the kitchen. The others are already there, creating makeshift beds.

The Russian turns as he hears someone enter the room. “Ah, little woman. We did not want to disturb you.”

I smile slightly, placing down the blankets on the cold metal floor. “I thought it only best to help, as gratitude for you all not killing me earlier…”

“We don’t tend to kill pretty women, just freakbags.” The American- I think his name was Dempsey, winks.

“Freakbags? Oh you mean the reanimates? The corpses?”

“You seem familiar with hell pigs, like you have seen them before?” Nikolai questions, eyes narrowed on me. The others look too.

“Yeah I uh…we have them where I come from-” I awkwardly try to explain, fiddling with my fingers to calm my nerves.

“And where exactly is that?” The Japanese man pries.

“I-its a long story, I don’t want to bore you with the details.”

“We have time, missy.” My eyes dart around to look at all of them, I’m going to have to explain…I’m sure they’ll understand.

“I was uh…just at a research facility in Vietnam…working for Спецгруппа Омега…we had the undead too, I was in charge of researching them.” They seem to soften slightly at my admission, probably just because I’m not being secretive.

“Ah, doll’s a scientist. Explains the coat. I do love me a lady with brains.” The others roll their eyes at this.

“But you are not Russian?”

“No, I do speak Russian but I’m originally from England.” Dempsey walks over.

“And how old are you doll, if you don’t mind me asking. You’re over 18 right?” I recoil at his statement.

“I’m 25. But if you weren’t lying in saying this is 1945, then I guess I haven’t been born yet. Where I came from, it was 1984.” They don’t seem too surprised by this, is time travel normal to them?

“We just traveled to future too, well this is future to us. We travelled here from France, during Great War.” Strange. These men have also manipulated space time to end up in 1945, however in the opposite direction. But 1945, a big facility containing these creatures…this isn’t right. I know aetherium and the creatures were discovered by the Germans during World War Two, but this isn’t like any of the facilities I have heard of. The creatures look different too, more like actual corpses than the ones I have seen. Could this be a different dimension, a parallel universe perhaps? God! My head is killing me.

“Enough questions for the lady, would you like some food? We don’t have much but I prepare rations for all of us.” The Japanese man asks, offering me a bowl of what appears to be potato soup, I take it thankfully.

“Thank you, uh-sorry I don’t know your name?” He gives a slight bow.

“Takeo Masaki, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Dr. Alvarie Brandt.” I reply, bowing back at him. Both holding out soup in our non-dominant hands, Dempsey comes over to introduce himself, shaking my spare hand.

“Tank Dempsey, the pleasure’s all mine.” I take a sip of the soup.

“Nikolai Belinski, and the crazy German you met earlier is Richtofen. I’d keep away from him.” I take another sip of my soup before replying.

“You don’t like Germans? Ah…world wars.” Nikolai lets out a grumble.

“You forget about world war so quickly?” I shake my head.

“No, it's just my parents are German so I tend to forget about that whole prejudice thing… People are pretty much over it where I come from.”

“You’re German?” Dempsey asks, looking annoyed.

“Well my parents are, but I grew up in England.” He grunts as he nods, seemingly still annoyed.

We all finish eating our soup. “We should probably go and bring some soup to Richtofen. As much as I do not trust the crazy German, he does seem to be the only one with a clue of what to do.” Nikolai announces, picking up a the fifth bowl.

“I can go take it to him?” The others look at me.

“No, we’re not letting you go to Richtofen alone.” Nikolai grumbles.

“It’ll be fine, I can thank him for looking over me earlier.” I assure. Dempsey rolls his eyes.

“Fine, but if you come back with a scratch, I’m gonna kill him.” Nikolai hands me a bowl and I leave the room. Walking down the corridor I realise that I have absolutely no idea where Richtofen is.

“Where would he be…where would he be?” I mutter to myself as I stroll past the many doorways. The library? Maybe? I enter the room, walking down the long aisles of books, all collecting dust, until I hear some noise. The sound of pages turning.

“Richtofen?” I call out quietly as I turn the corner. I see him sat at a table, surrounded by piles of books, frustrated.

“Vat do you vant?” He grunts as I approach his table slowly, placing down the soup.

“I just wanted to bring you some food, and to thank you for checking over me earlier..” He looks up from his book briefly.

“You’re velcome.” He gives a fake smile. “Now leave.” His harsh tone causes me to frown.

“Sorry.” I reply meekly, starting to walk away before he stops me, grabbing my arm.

“Vait!” I turn back, looking into his silvery blue eyes. “I shuppose I schould ask you some questions, Doctor Brandt.” He gestures for me to take the seat opposite him, I do so, cautiously sitting down.

“Sure…” He snaps close the book in his hand before placing it down on the table.

“How exactly did you get here? You are not shupposed to be here.” I don’t dare make eye contact with him, just continuing to look down at my hands.

“I was thrown into a teleporter, by my boss…against my will.” He hums in response.

“Und you sink zat I believe you? How do I know you veren’t sent here to shtop me?” At this accusation, I dart my eyes up to his.

“Sent to stop you? I didn’t even know where I was? My boss just hated me and threw me into a portal, and I ended up here!”

“Vhy vould your boss srow you into a teleporter?” He questions, leaning back in his chair, a hand on his chin.

“He hated me! He thought I tried to kill him when one of the specimens I was dissecting woke up on the table. How was I supposed to know? I thought it was dead.”

“Shpecimens? Do you mean the hell shpawn? You were researching hell shpawn?” I nod vigorously.

“I was part of Спецгруппа Омега, a soviet research group dedicated to the study of trans-dimensional travel and the fauna and flora of the Dark Aether! I promise, I have no idea what’s going on here! I just want to go home.”

“Hmm…zee dark aeser…interessant…vielleicht hat sie nützliche informationen…”

“Ja! I’m sure I do! Just please, don’t hurt me.” His eyes again connect with mine.

“Du sprichst Deutsch? Ah you get more and more interesting, Doktor.” He chuckles lowly.

“Please, I just want to go home.” I almost beg, my voice losing it’s prominence as my resolve withers away.

“Zen go home!” He snaps back.

“I don’t know how!”

He stands up, slamming his hands down on the table. “Tomorrow vee vill turn on zhe power und fix zhe teleporter. Hopefully I’ll be able to find your previous location und get you out of zhe vay.” I flinch, pushing myself backwards on the chair.

“That’s all I want…I didn’t want to disturb you Richtofen…I’m sorry.”

Dempsey, Nikolai and Takeo sit together in the ‘bedroom’. Their tired bodies ache after a long and brutal fight. Dempsey interrupts the silence, bringing up the one thought he can’t quite seem to get out of his head. “Did you guys notice Richtofen doing something weird when we first got here?”

“Strange describes much of what Richtofen does.” Takeo mumbles, his head rising from his pillow.

“No I mean right after he popped himself… before that girl arrived, he knelt over the body, why?”

“Maybe Richtofen wanted to pay respects, to himself?” Nikolai mused.

“And what is he even doing here anyway? He’s been missing for two fucking years, while we’ve been fighting off hordes of freakbags!” Takeo places a hand on Dempsey’s arm, in a calming motion, or perhaps just to stop him perforating the others eardrums.

“We know not where Richtofen has traveled, but I believe his experiences have changed him…”

“Crazy German is still as crazy as before, wherever he’s been.”

Tank scratches his chin in thought. “Come to think of it…isn’t it a little strange that that girl, Alvarie, just magically turned up here?” The others hum in agreement.

“It is strange, but so is much of what we have experienced.”

“I get that Tak, but here she arrives, this scientist. Who knows about the meat sacks, is german, and is currently alone with Richtofen. I think she works for him!”

“That is quite the accusation, Dempsey. I don’t believe it, the girl looked too scared to have known she would be brought here…”

“Speaking of the lady, she’s been talking to Richtofen for a while now, perhaps we should check she has come to no harm?”

Just as he finishes his sentence, I rush back into the room. “S-sorry, I’m not interrupting am I?” I pant out, having just ran straight from the library, their eyes all settle on me.

“Not at all darlin’, you okay? Richthofen didn’t hurt you did he?” I shake my head, sitting down on the blanket across from Dempsey.

“No, he didn’t. He just scares me a bit is all. Though he said tomorrow once we get the power turned on, he might be able to get me home. Then I’ll be out of your hair, and I can finally get back to work.” I sigh out, relived.

“So you don’t plan on staying then, барышня?” I shake my head vigorously.

“Not at all! No offence- it's just I don’t think I could survive with these creatures just walking around all the time, trying to kill me. I couldn’t even take out one, never mind the amount there was earlier.”

Dempsey chuckles. “We better get you back soon then doll, hordes will come again when that crawler dies.” Strange?

“Is that how they work here? They come in waves?”

Takeo nods. “We do not know why, but they behave so, and follow us wherever we are.” Hmm, this is strange behaviour…maybe I could learn from them. That’s it! If I can find out how these creatures differ from those of the Dark Aether, then maybe Peck will let me join the project again. Maybe he’ll think I’m useful and forgive me!

“You’ll have to tell me everything you know about them!” Nikolai puts out a hand to quell my excitement.

“Maybe tomorrow, I think we should all try to get some sleep while we can..” The others nod in agreement, before settling down on the floor. Is this it? I just have to sleep here in my bloody clothes? Well…I take off my lab coat, settling down in the pile of blankets on the floor, laying my head down on the old pillow. Closing my eyes, I finally realise how tired I really am..slipping into a deep sleep.

Dear Diary,

Sings are going accordink to plan. I have caused fraktures to shplit across zee ‘original’ timeline, just as I was told to do, by killing mein ozer shelf. The ozers do not sheem happy viz my arrival or my course of actions, but zey vill come to realise zat vhat I do, I do only to secure a better tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll be able to reshtore ze power tomorrow before any hell shpawn arrive, zen I can activate ze beacon, und allow Maxis to find us… now what else, ah ze girl. Sche says she’s a doktor, a scientist, shtudying ze hell shpawn, but zis can’t be right, can it? She’s not shupposed to be here, I need to get her out of ze vay, she could mess up ze plan completely. I don’t believe she is from zis timeline, she can’t be, I vould’ve sheen it in ze Kronorium. I’m going to try to send her back, only to get her out of ze vay…failing zat I don’t know vhat I’ll do. I have to admit that’s she’s a distraction, und not a velcome one. I have to shtick to ze plan, I can’t shtop now.

[shop-korea]

APRIL - ARIES - MY GRAMMAR - IS - OKAY -

ONLY - BACKGROUND - MY - BERLIN - YES -

GERMAN - FATHER - DIDN'T- TEACH - ME -

HOW - 2 - SPEAK - MY - PINAY - MAID -

WHO - TAUGHT - ME - HOW 2 SPEAK -

MY - GERMAN - FATHER - ABANDONED -

ME - TWICE - AS - A - BABY - HOSPITAL -

TREATED - 4 - ALLERGIES - KIDNAPPED -

BY - PHILIPPINE - ADOPTED - MOM FOR -

THEY - STRANGLED - 2 - DEATH - WENT -

ALL - THE - WAY - WITH - THEIR - FIRST -

BORN - BABY - GIRL - AS - CHRISTIANS -

IVCF - UNIVERSITY - OF - PHILIPPINES -

WHO - STARTED - USA - FAMILY - INSURANCE -

$1 MILLION - PER - CHILD - MURDERED DEAD -

FR - CANCER - DISEASED - SUICIDE - ANY YES -

DEATH - NO PROOF - TAX - FREE - $1 MILLION -

WHY - TRAVELED - WORLDWIDE - MY - MAID -

AND - I - HEARD - IN - VIETNAM - PAID MALES -

2 - KILL - HER - AND - ME - FAILED - AGE 6 -

THEIR - OBEDIENT - 2ND BORN TRIED BUT -

HOLE - ON - FOREHEAD - MADE - ME - YES -

PARTIALLY - QUADRAPLEGIC - BUT - LOST -

MY - INTELLIGENCE - AND - LANGUAGES -

GRADE 2 - MY - GERMAN - FATHER - YES -

FOUND - ME - PER - HIS - PARENTS - AT -

COLLEGE - OF - ST AUGUSTIN - 4 - KIDS -

GRADES - 2 - 4 - DASMARINAS VILLAGE -

GRADE 2 - MET - GRANDPARENTS AND -

GREAT - GRANDPA - BERLIN GERMANY -

LIVED - IN - PARIS - AND - ROME ALSO -

SUMMERS - THEN - LIKE - MS UNIVERSE -

2015 - PIA WURZTBACH - THEY ABANDONED -

US - AT - AGE 9 - ME - IN - A - MAKATI - MALL -

I - TRIED - 2 - RECALL - MY - BAHAY - KUBO -

2 FLOORS - BUNGALOW - THEN - A - PINOY -

MALE - CHILD - STARTED - CRYING - 4 - HE -

WAS - LEFT - BY - HIS - FAMILY - IN - THAT -

MALL - COMFORTED - TOLD - HIM - WE -

CAN - THINK - BETTER - WHILE WE ATE -

I'M - PAYING - AND - AS - WE - WERE -

EATING - REMEMBERED - WHERE - I -

LIVE - AND - HIS - FAMILY - FOUND - HIM -

THEY - 1ST - TIME - IN - MANILA - MOTEL -

VERY - EXPENSIVE - I - SAID - BOARDING -

HOUSES - NON-COED - BEST - WAY - 4 PH -

CHEAPEST - SHOWERS - REAL - NICE AND -

MORE - SO - WITH - A - UNIFORMED - MAID -

LARGEST - ROOM - COST - AND - BOOKED -

THEM - TOLD - THEM - HOW - 2 - AND - ME -

BROUGHT - MALE - CHILD - AND - THEY -

CAN - MEET - US - LATER - THERE ALSO -

THEY - MOVED - 2 - MANILA - AFTER -

SEEING - MY - BUNGALOWS - ADDED -

FRUIT - TREES - MY - WINNING THEIR -

SINGING COMPETITIONS IN - MANILA -

GAVE - ME - MORE - THAN - ENOUGH -

MONEY - 2 - BUY - MY - LAND - THEN -

BOUGHT - FRUIT - TREES - HAD - YES -

PLANTED - SURROUNDING BUNGALOW -

INSIDE - MARBLE - 4 - AIR CONDITIONER -

THOUGH - LAND - LOVED - THAT - AC - 2 -

PLANTED VEGETABLES - OTHER FRUITS -

2 RABBITS - LOVED - OUR - CARROTS SO -

PLANTED - MORE - 4 - THEM - BOUGHT -

CHICKENS - 4 - EGGS - OUR - NEW YES -

PLAYHOUSE - GOT - MAIDS - UNIFORM -

ONE - DAY - A - MAID - WANTED 2 BUY -

OUR - EGGS - FRUITS - BONELESS -

FISH - AND - MORE - CHICKEN - 2 -

EVERYTHING - AND - WE - GAVE -

CHEAPST - PRICE - AND - MANY -

MAIDS - STARTED - 2 - BUY - FR -

US - GENERATED - OVER - P25,000 -

PHILIPPINE - PESOS - BOUGHT THE -

LAND - NEXT - 2 - US - ANOTHER -

BUNGALOW - FRUIT - TREES YES -

MORE - VEGETABLES - HIRED XO -

MANY - MAIDS - THEIR - PLACE 2 -

SLEEP - MORE - ORDERS - FROM -

US - BOUGHT - MORE - LAND AND -

ANOTHER - 2 FLOOR - BUNGALOW -

MORE - MAIDS - TODAY - OVER PH -

2,500 - CHICKENS - AND - MY LAND -

PRODUCES - 5,000 - ORGANIC EGGS -

EVERYTIME - WE - BARBEQUED CKN -

LONG - LINE - FORMS - 2 - BUY - SO -

WE - HAVE - SUPPLIED - EVEN THAT -

KNOW - YOUR - NEIGHBORS - AS WE -

BARBEQUED - MORE - AND - IT WAS -

A - GREAT - EXISTENCE - THEY - YES -

COPIED - OUR - LIFESTYLE - DESIGN -

CHICKENS - 4 - EGGS - FRUIT - TREES -

VEGETABLES - THE - NEIGHBORHOOD -

CHANGED - BUT - TODAY - HARD 2 YES -

FIND - THAT - PLACE - BECAUSE - WAS -

LAND - SURROUNDING - SO - I'M - NOT -

COMPLETELY - HOMELESS - I - JUST -

DON'T - REMEMBER - HOW - 2 - GET -

THERE - NAMES - OF - MY - BANKS 4 -

COMPLETELY - FORGOT - I - WAS - TOLD -

BETTER - WAY - HOW - 2 - SLEEP - THAT -

IS - ON - THE - TABLE - FACE - FACED FL -

DOWN - HOW - PEOPLE - TALKED 2 YES -

BLACKS - THEY - ALLOWED - THEM - 2B -

TALKED - 2 - THAT - WAY - BUT CLEARLY -

8TH - AMENDMENT - STATED - 'CRUEL -

AND - UNUSUAL - PUNISHMENT - YES -

INFLICTED' - THEY - TALKED - 2 - ME -

LIKE - THEY - WERE - AIRLINES - YES -

FLIGHT - ATTENDANTS - IN - FORCED -

LANDING - SIT - UPRIGHT - SEAT BELT -

WHEN - PLANE - DIVING - PUT - HEAD -

ON - THIGHS - STAY - DOWN - THERE -

SLEEPING - ALLOWED - AT - THE YES -

UNDERLINE - ON - THE - LIME GREEN -

TABLES - WHERE - THEY - JUST - PUT -

SIGN - L SIDE - MIAMI - POLICE - WILL -

ARREST - REMOVE - THOSE - THEIR -

YELLOW - WHITE - VESTED - SECURITY -

WHITE - SHIRT - SECURITY - DECLARE -

TRESPASSERS - THEN - MIAMI POLICE -

WILL - REMOVE - FR - LOCATION THEY -

HAVE - BEEN - DECLARED - BY - THE -

UNDERLINE - AS - TRESPASSERS FOR -

PUBLIX - HIGHEST - CONTRIBUTORS -

AS - LIME - GREEN - THEIR - COLORS -

THE - UNDERLINE - NOT - ALL PLACE -

STRONG - MBPS - 2 LOCATIONS - FOR -

ELECTRICITY - THIS - PRIVATE - YES -

LOCATION - ARE - FRIENDS - OF YES -

ARMED - MIAMI - POLICE - OPEN - CARRY -

ILLEGALLY - HANDCUFFS - PSYCHIATRIC -

QUESTIONING - INHUMANE - TREATMENT -

TORTURE - 'WITH - DUE - PROCESS - OF -

LAW' - SHOOTS - FOREHEAD - SHOOTS -

HEADS - FRIENDS - OF - PUBLIX - AND -

THE - UNDERLINE - PRIVATE - OWNED -

FRONT - OF - US - EMPTY - LAND - AND -

IN - FRONT - OF - SOLITAIRE - BRICKELL -

APT - BLDG - INFRONT - OF - SW 8 ST -

LOCATION - OF - BRICKELL - CITY - CENTRE -

OVER - $1 BILLION - 2 - CREATE - SAME FOR -

SOLITAIRE - BRICKELL - NOT - GREAT - TRUE -

PLACES - SHODDY - WORK - RAIN - FALLS ON -

2ND - FLOOR - LOBBY - DUE - 2 - STRONG YES -

WIND - THUS - GIVING - NOTICE - 2 - POLICE -

ALLIED - UNIVERSAL - SECURITY - TRANSIT -

POLICE - OPEN - CARRY - ILLEGALLY ARMED -

4 - 'WITH - DUE - PROCESS - OF - LAW' - THEY -

SHOOT - POINT BLANK - KIDS - NON-SERVICE -

ANIMALS - LEGAL - PERMISSION - MAGIC -

KINGDOM - MEDICAL - CENTER - FREE FL -

BABY - DELIVERY - FREE - DENTAL - MED -

SERVICE - FREE - SURGERY - WE - TRULY -

CONCEALED - CARRY - LESS - THAN TIC -

TAC - SIZE - BULLETS - 4 - FUN - 4 - WE -

WILL - WITH - 1 CLICK - DISAPPEAR THE -

VIOLENT - MEN - WOMEN - FLORIDA AS -

AMERICANS - FOREIGNERS - BLKS AND -

HISPANICS - EXTREMELY - VIOLENT BLK -

SPANISH - SPEAKING - EVEN - BLACKS -

FR - CUBA - OTHER - COUNTRIES - ALL -

SPEAK - SPANISH - WE - WITH - ONE -

CLICK - WILL - DISAPPEAR - THEM 2 -

FOR - AS - INDEPENDENT - DEMOCRATIC -

PARTY - 50 STATES - WE - WILL - WORK US -

THIS - CONSTITUTION - AMENDMENTS AS -

WE - SEPARATE - FR - ARMED - BY - THEIR -

STRANGE - 'DUE - PROCESS - OF - LAW' -

4 - WE - LOVE - CHILDREN - ANIMALS & -

WILD - ANIMALS - THIS - MED - CENTER -

4 - ANIMALS - ALSO - 24/7 - EMPLOYEES -

EXCEPT - 4 - TRASH - TOILETS - OWNERS -

EMPLOYEES - PER - STORE - WILL - NOT -

RECEIVE - OUR - MEDICAL - ATTENTION -

HERE - IN - USA - OVERSEAS - AS - WE -

REGISTER - EVERYONE - AS - FREE FR -

OPPRESSIVE - TYRANICAL - ILLEGALLY -

ARMED - MEN - AND - WOMEN OF THIS -

WORLD - WE'RE - 2 B - CAPTURED - BY -

THEM - AS - POOR - AS - FOREIGNERS -

AS - WOMEN - MISOGYNY - THE HARM -

ABUSE - MURDER - OF - YOUNG - GIRLS -

DUE - 2 - BREAST - SIZE - HARM - AND -

ABUSE - OF - WOMEN - 305 - PIZZA - A -

NICE - SLICE - GIVEN - ME - SO - WILL -

CONTINUE - THIS - I - AM - ALLOWED -

2 - SLEEP - HERE - THERE - IS - NO FL -

OTHER - PLACE - 2 - KILL - FOREIGNERS -

THE - UNITED - STATES - WE'RE - HERE 2 -

B - KILLED - WITH - BULLETS - KNIVES -

PNEUMONIA - TYPHOID - FEVER - GET -

KIDNEY - BLADDER - $9,000 EACH - AS -

FOREIGNERS - WE'RE - HERE - IN - 245 -

AGED - UNITED STATES - 2 - TORTURE -

ABUSE - GIVE - INHUMAN - TREATMENT -

BUT - KOREA - REMOVED - ACYRLIC YES -

NAILS - LITTERALLY - OF - BEAUTIFUL -

KOREAN - GIRLS - THE - USA DOESN'T -

HAVE - THAT - THINKING - BECAUSE -

ASIANS - AND - EUROPEANS - EAT -

CATS - DOGS - FROGS - LEGS - FEET -

OF - CHICKEN - PIGS - FEET - BEHEAD -

PIGS - PUT - THEIR - BODIES - FLOORS -

AND - WORSHIP - HEADS - OF - PIGS -

SO - WHAT - IS - WORST - THAN USA -

IN - TERMS - OF - MURDERS - KOREA -

SO - WE'RE - GOING - THERE - FAGS -

AS - WE - SUPPLY - MEDICAL - 2 YES -

GIVE - FREE - SURGERY - FREE - BABY -

DELIVERY - END - MARRIAGES - AS WE -

PRODUCE - THERE - NOT - ME - MY DNA -

BEST - COURSE - UNITE - WITH BOTTLES -

OF - TALL - BEAUTIFUL - MALES - BLUE -

EYES - MAKE - THEM - MOST BEAUTIFUL -

GIRLS - TRIPLETS - QUADRUPLETS - AND -

TWINS - AS - NEW - KOREA - PRODUCES -

GIRLS - UNTIL - QUITE - VISIBLE - 2 WIN -

MISS UNIVERSE

MISS WORLD

MISS TOURISM

MISS EARTH

WE'LL - CHANGE - KOREA - AND - USA -

UNTIL - THEN - JESUS - IS - LORD - FOR -

FOREIGNERS - IN - USA - 2 - SLAUGHTER -

AS - POLICE - 4 - THEY - THINK - AS - YES -

WOMEN - THEY - ARE - BETTER LOOKING -

WITH - THEIR - SMALL - PAYCHECKS THAN -

FOREIGN - FEMALES - AS - NEW - FINES -

$250,000 - PER - EVERY - OFFENSE

INCLUDING - MURDERS - AS - HOW

2 - PUNISH - AMERICANS - MAKE -

THEM - POOR - AS - POLICE WILL -

B - THE - ONES - DESPERATE FOR -

MONEY - THEY - STEAL - FR - $$$ -

FINES - IN - THE - FUTURE - AS -

FOREIGNERS - PROMISED - AS - WE -

BECOME - THEIR - RULERS - IN USA

[violently-fried-bees]

enjoy this fully unedited story I made today

Yes my grammar is horrible and no I didnt run it through anything to correct all of the missing ' also autocorrect is used to these mistakes so it isnt seen as one

With honey colored eyes he stared back at me unmoving and unwavering. The needle sat in his thigh waiting to be touched. Why did he stab himself with it? The needle is big really big. He didnt flinch when he had to do it. It was almost like he did this so regularly it didnt hurt anymore. Maybe that's why he wears shorts even in winter unfazed by the cold. One leg bandaged all the way up the other bare or covered with leggings. But one is always covered in nothing but bandages. Finally his eyes shifted back down to the needle and in one swift move he removed it and rearranged his bandages. His leg twitched almost like it was an attempted to break the stunned silence that had swept over the room. Finally the teacher broke the silence by introducing him. His name is Ether he wore a mask that hid most of his face but he had these honey colored eyes that stared back tiredly from behind his big round glasses. His poofy hair looked like a void with pale pink ears breaking it on the side of his head. His ears also seemed to have some fluff on them with piercings that contrasted heavily. He almost looked like a blank canvas with only a small amount of color and a lot of black almost like it was dumped onto his head. He wore all black except for the bandages of course even his forearm crutches that layed quietly next to him had more color. I didnt realise it until I saw him from behind but his hair wasnt short and fluffy it was longer since he had it pulled back. Cute god he was so cute and mysterious.

I couldn't stop staring at him I do it everyday. I wonder what he thinks of me. I wonder if he likes me at all. Hes really good at guitar though I can tell he prefers bass. Took me a bit but i worked up the confidence to start sitting next to him. He smelled good however I could no longer look at him as easily. Once I caught him looking at me with those honey colored eyes I've come to love so much. That day the teacher wasnt there and it was our first interaction. He kept glancing at me while doodling in his note book. By the end of class he handed me a paper....it was a drawing of me. Actually one main drawing and a few doodles of me. Top corner had most of my attention however.....it was his number. By the time it registered he had disappeared. I texted him later and that's how we started talking. Pretty quickly he told me he was autistic this wasnt a suprise however I also told him I had adhd. Two neuro divergents found eachother and we were the only ones in the class.

After a while we got comfy with eachother, he began to call me names over text however this was his love language. I finally got him into a call and this was the first time I'd heard a word come from his mouth. It took him a while to relax on call at some point we weren't talking and both doin our own thing. Then what broke that silence was the strongest Russian accent I've ever heard call himself a bastard then a bang and a sigh. I about lost it but I kept it together and stayed quiet hoping he'd speak more. He did. Someone came into his room after hearing him yell and then well he apparently was drawing on the wrong layer for the past 3 hours. Then a bunch of russian I couldn't follow ensued from him and whoever entered. My mom came in midway through this yelling at me in German and of course he heard this and realised he was still in call. Then he in the most casual voice after I unmute and apologized he told me to do dishes in full German.

That fucked me up for a bit just cause of how casually he switched from russian to German to russian.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 I || professor!helmut zemo x reader

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : history is so much more interesting when he’s teaching it.  you’d better be careful before the two of you end up with a history of your own.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 6k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (incl. semi-public sex in an office and oral f receiving), significant age gap (reader is 20, zemo is 39; it isn’t actually mentioned though but it comes up in the next part), the slightest bit of angst?, nearly pwp at this point lol

                                    You wouldn’t know it by the way you were enraptured with his lecture, but you weren’t even a history major.  

Quite far from it, really, well outside of the college of liberal arts, and yet here you were in the front row, watching him gesture over a large map of Western Europe while he explained the sociocultural impacts of the Treaty of Versailles.

It was probably pretty obvious why you took such interest in all this, though.  After all, you were the only one who dressed as well as he did, your blazers and skirts and loafers standing out amongst a sea of hoodies and sweats and flip-flops; and, you were the only one who paid close attention and yet never seemed to be taking any notes…

Why would you, after all?  Looking away to write in your notebook would mean missing out on all the fun, and unfortunately you had found that when you copied down the words he spoke, his accent was not retained in writing.

Some kid in the back of the class had asked about his accent the first day; you thought it was kind of a rude question, if you were being honest, but he didn’t seem to mind too much (if perhaps a bit surprised that anyone cared).  He explained he was from a small country called Sokovia, but that his accent was a bit unique since he spoke Russian, German, Spanish, and Italian as well.

Because of course he did.  Like he was specifically designed to target all your weaknesses.

“Well, I could talk about that for the rest of the evening but I’ll spare you all and let you out a bit early today, how does that sound?” Professor Zemo offered.  The other students weakly cheered, a few claps here and there as you heard binders shutting and backpacks being zipped, but you were disappointed.  You didn’t want to go back to your dorm, all you were going to do there was think about him anyways.

Damn, I’ve really got it bad, you thought to yourself, shaking your head as you stood up and gathering your things, slinging your bag over your shoulder.  You glanced up at the podium where another student was chatting with Professor Zemo, and either he said something really funny or she was trying way too hard to flirt with him.  You rolled your eyes, irritated by the display and yet envious of her audacity to just go up there and talk to him.  Imagine having a crush and actually being able to look them in the eye and hold a conversation; you could barely do that with people you didn’t happen to find attractive.

Just as you were about to make it out the door, you heard your name and spun around.  You were shocked to realize it was the Professor trying to get your attention.  If only you’d thought to pretend you hadn’t heard him.

“Could I speak with you for a moment?” he requested, motioning you over with two curled fingers.  With a swallow and a nod, you stepped out of the flow of students exiting into the hallway and approached the desk at the front of the room.

“What is it?” you asked.

“I just wanted to discuss your most recent paper, if you have some time,” he explained, and your heart sunk.  Of course it was garbage, you’d written the whole thing last minute during a near-all-nighter.  “I still have the copy you turned in here in my bag.”

“Right, of course— sure,” you nodded.  By now the classroom was empty spare for the two of you, your words echoing slightly; presumably that was intentional, since these places were built for acoustics, but it made you worry you’d have to hear whatever criticism he had for you multiple times.

He pulled out the slightly-wrinkled paper and took his glasses off of his vest to wear (fuck, did he have to wear the glasses, just to personally attack you?) as he glanced over the top page before folding it over the staple.

“This essay,” he continued, “it’s—”

Ridiculous.  Idiotic.  A blight on humanity and a waste of printer ink.

“Fascinating,” he finished, surprising you.  “After I read it, I searched your student profile on my office computer—”

You gulped, trying not to take that as a compliment.

“I’m looking at your information and I’m seeing you aren’t even a history major— is this a mistake, when it says your major is computer science?”

“No, that’s my major,” you nodded.

“Well, that’s a shame,” he decided, “because you have some really interesting ideas in here, clearly you must have studied history before.”

“I mean, not really,” you shrugged.  “I didn’t even care that much about history until, you know, you...r class,” you finished quickly, realizing it sounded too odd otherwise.

And that smile, the way he looked down at the floor suddenly, was he blushing?  “Thank you.  I’m always… glad to inspire.”

If only you knew everything you’d inspired in me, Professor.

“If you didn’t care about history, what would motivate you to register for an honors history seminar?” he asked suddenly.  

“Well…” you trailed off, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck as you dodged his gaze.

“It couldn’t possibly be because I’m teaching it,” he realized.

“I came to your talk last year, the one you did about the Sokovian civil war,” you finally admitted, letting out a lungful of air as you said it and looking up at him sheepishly.

“Ah,” he nodded, “yes, that might make a bit more sense.  But we still haven’t found the real reason, have we?”  His eyebrow raised slightly and you felt like he was toying with you— but you liked it, the shiver that ran up your spine made that obvious.  “Because the question remains of what would possess a computer science student to take time out of her busy schedule on a Friday night— if I recall the night correctly— to listen to some stuffy visiting scholar talk about a bloody war in a country she may not have even heard of before.”

“My friend brought me,” you defended.

“Under what guise?” he pressed.

“She… may have mentioned something about… a cute professor with a sexy accent…” you stammered, cringing slightly as you spared a glance back up at him.  He was staring back at you with the most bewildering expression.  His eyes said ‘you thought I was cute?’, and yet his smile said ‘I knew it.’

“You must’ve been horribly disappointed when I took the stage,” he finally replied, voice a bit lower, softer, not echoing around the room anymore.  

“Not at all,” you returned, almost below your breath now, and suddenly you became very aware that you were standing too close to him, but you couldn’t move away, you couldn’t even look away anymore.  “I’m here, aren’t I?  Taking your class?”

“And you make it nearly impossible to focus, did you know that?  I swear your eyes never leave me, I can feel them on me.  It’s quite unfair, because I can’t stare back at you no matter how much I want to.”

Just as you looked down at his lips and back up to his eyes, which seemed to be following a similar pattern on your own face, just when you thought this might be it and you were about to do something you really shouldn’t (but really wanted to), you heard the door open behind you and you spun around so fast you nearly hurt your neck.

“Oh,” the man in the doorway mumbled, apparently surprised to see you enough to nearly drop the papers tucked under his arm.  “I’m teaching the next class in here— Honors History of Islam?”

“Professor Waters, yes, my apologies,” Zemo nodded, “we were just… our discussion ran a bit long, we’ll get out of your way.”

You and Zemo awkwardly gathered your things and made a dash for the door as the older professor took his place at the podium.  Once the two of you were out in the hall, you let out a sigh and gave each other a glance, like you were each waiting for the other to either acknowledge or ignore what had just (almost) happened.

“I have my next class across campus in a half hour,” he remembered suddenly, lifting his arm and pulling back the brown sleeve of his coat to look at his watch.  

“Right, you should… get to that,” you nodded.

“Walk with me?” he proposed, and you hoped your smile wasn’t as beaming as it felt.  

“I’d love to.”

So maybe you ended up skipping your evening class to sit in the back of his History of England course.  And, perhaps, he ended that one early, too, this time to buy you coffee at the student center; and your discussion ended up going on so long that the coffee shop closed and you had to go to his office to finish the conversation.

But, in a certain sense, it could be argued that you never really got a chance to finish that conversation after all… because a few moments after he shut the door to his office, you, for lack of a better term, jumped his bones.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips as you pulled him closer by his jacket, “we can’t do this.”

You nodded, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck.  “Mhm, yeah, you’re right,” you agreed breathlessly.

His hands took their place at your waist as you both stepped back, the back of your legs bumping into his desk which you jumped up slightly to sit on.

“I mean, we really can’t do this,” he continued, kissing your neck instead now while your legs wrapped around his hips, your skirt riding up slightly, your fingers fumbling with the buttons on his collar.  “I want to, overwhelmingly so, but we can’t.”

“I know,” you sighed; your head fell back when his teeth grazed over your pulse, and his hand was right there to catch it and hold it up, gripping the back of your neck.

“This absolutely cannot happen,” he groaned when your legs pulled him closer, something hard and hot pressing up against your thigh through his trousers and you were really hoping it wasn’t just his cell phone.

Then he rocked his hips, just barely, and you felt the outline of the ridge of his head and it was definitely not his phone unless he had the most suggestively-shaped phone case of all time.  You gasped and grabbed his face to kiss him again, shamelessly desperate now, weaving your fingers into the hair just above the back of his neck.

By now you had managed to get a few of his buttons open so when you slid your fingers down from time to time, they ran over his chest and the patch of dark blonde hair there.  Funny enough, you couldn’t remember having any strong opinions on chest hair before this afternoon, but now you felt your walls fluttering around nothing.  

He helped you shed your blazer just before tossing his own coat aside, never breaking the kiss, holding your face gently while he pushed you down to lay on his desk— he reached behind you to clear a few stray papers out of the way first.  

Your back hit the glossy wood and his weight pinned you down, rough hands sliding up your legs and under your skirt as you tried to push your hips up for more friction where you needed him most.

He pushed your hips back down, not too roughly but definitely enough to get your attention, before sliding his hands up your skirt again where he toyed with the hem of your panties.

You wanted to say something, more specifically you wanted to beg him to touch you, but you had this fear that if you spoke now it would all become real and he would stop because, as he had so poignantly noted, this can’t happen.  And both of you knew that… so maybe it would be easier to let it happen if neither of you really acknowledged it.

Luckily, he didn’t tease you too long, reaching under the fabric and swiping the rough pads of his fingers over your slickened folds.  You choked on your gasp, accidentally digging your nails into his shoulders when he drew delicate circles around your clit.  All at once, he suddenly pushed those fingers right inside you and your back arched; you needed so much more than just his fingers but the way they twisted and curled against your walls was nearly perfect as well.  

They didn’t stay long, quickly pulling back as you watched him quickly open his trousers just before you felt the head of him pushing up to your entrance.

His eyes met yours, dark with need, yet somehow clearly asking you for permission, making sure this was what you wanted: and fuck, you wanted it more than anything.  The moment that you nodded, he began to push forward— slow and deliberate, but unyielding.  

Perhaps as a perfect healthy college student in a male-dominated major, you had no real excuse for it to have been so long since you’d had sex.  As you liked to put it: dating as a woman in computer science means the odds are good but the goods are odd.  Truth be told, you weren’t sure at this point if having had sex any time in the past year would’ve prepared you for him anyway.  It felt like he was forging a new path inside you— certainly a wider one than anyone else ever had since he was so thick.  

With his hips fully seated against yours, the tip of his cock just reached the end of you, just barely brushed over those sensitive spots you didn’t even know you had before.

It stung a bit to be filled this thoroughly, so it was no wonder you were biting down on your lip hard enough to bruise it, your fingers clutching at his shirt tightly.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispered, finally breaking the silence, voice strained like he was struggling just as much as you were (though in an entirely different way).

“A little,” you admitted.  “Please don’t stop.”

He groaned a few curses as he started to move back, and forth, and so slow you could hardly stand it.  

“Fuck,” you breathed, “oh my god, harder, please…”

A little smile crossed his face, a sharp exhale almost like a laugh, and it made your cheeks burn even hotter than they already were.  But, he obeyed, regardless, more aggressive in his movements yet not any faster as he held your hips to keep you from sliding across the desk’s glossy wood surface.

Your moans were starting to echo around the office’s beige walls at this point, and he snarled as he bit down on your neck.  “You need to stay quiet,” he hissed in your ear.  “Can you do that for me?  Can you stay quiet even when I’m making you feel so good?”

“I-I’m trying,” you whimpered, “your cock is… so deep…”

“Oh, I know,” he cooed, voice heavy with faux pity, “poor thing, you can’t take it?”

“No!” you yelped.  “I can take it!  Please, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t have to if you stay quiet, darling, we can’t have somebody hearing you now can we?” he chuckled, licking and sucking at your pulse point as your eyes rolled back in your head.  “We can’t have somebody hearing you cry for me, and coming in here, and seeing you laying on my desk getting fucked by your professor, right?”

What the hell was wrong with you that that idea actually turned you on?  Why did it actually make you want to moan louder until everyone could hear you?

And when his cock speared right against that spongy spot inside you, you did exactly that and he had to suddenly clamp his hand down over your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled, “you’re going to get us both in trouble.”

Your attempts at apologies were totally incomprehensible with his hand over your mouth, not that they were likely to have made much sense either way.

Blinking your eyes shut, your legs began to quiver slightly as he rutted into you, your toes curling inside your loafers.  You felt so full you could hardly stand it, stretched so wide that you were forced to feel every detail of his cock as it filled you.  Already your walls were bearing down on him; you couldn’t help it, it was like your body was just his instrument now and instinct had taken control of your movements.  

His accent was definitely stronger now as he whispered in your ear, praising you gruffly.  You knew from the beginning that you loved high marks and encouragement from your teachers, but this… this was different, and you hadn't known how much it would affect you.

"Good girl," he breathed, "you're taking me so well, draga, you feel so perfect around me."

You whined from behind his hand and he chuckled at your obvious neediness.

"You like making me feel good, darling?" he presumed, his smile pressing against your neck between nipping kisses to your pulse point.  "You like knowing that I can barely take this tight cunt gripping me so well, that I'm already addicted to your precious body and want to fill it with my seed?"

With your eyes rolling back in your head you nodded feverishly, heavy in your state of total delirium as he pumped his cock deep into you over and over.

You reached up to try to pull his hand away from your mouth, and he met your gaze with fire in his eyes.

“If I take my hand away, will you be good?” he challenged, and you nodded feverishly.  He was a bit hesitant but slowly moved his hand down, and though you did have to keep biting your lip, you managed to restrain yourself.

Every drag of the ridge of his head inside you was somehow more intense than the last, somehow hitting right at your spot and it was like each rough thrust knocked his name out of your mind and onto your lips until you were chanting it like a prayer, or a plea.

And each time you said it, he fucked you harder, snarling and whispering your name back to you a few times, in between little praises; "Beautiful," he mumbled, "such a sweet little girl… such a perfect cunt."

“I— fuck, I’m gonna—” you stammered your warning.  

“Will you come for me?” he finished for you, and you nodded quickly.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you hissed.

It was obvious just by the build-up that you were going to come hard, pleasure tightening in your core until you were sure that it would spill over but it just kept going, making you wonder if it would ever reach the breaking point.

And oh boy did it, it slammed into you in fact, and your legs quivered as you struggled for air.  He growled in your ear, fucking you harder through it all, stroking every place that had only become even more sensitive.  The moment you could form words again, you were wasting the ability on a string of swears and promises you couldn’t keep.

“Yours, fuck, it’s yours,” you sobbed.  He chuckled a little, pulling back to examine your face which must have given away how fucked-out and cockdrunk you were already.

“Say it again,” he demanded darkly, holding you tighter, fucking you a bit more deliberately though not any less aggressively.

“Yours,” you gasped, cut off by a rough and dominating kiss.  Your moans were lost to his tongue but he didn’t need them to know you were coming, the way your body gripped him tighter than ever was sign enough.

“So good,” he whispered against your lips, “you’re doing so good for me…”

His words washed over your skin and soothed you like a salve, bringing some relief from the overwhelming feelings his body was assaulting yours with.

All things considered, he was still moving rather slowly, each of his thrusts measured and patient, and never really changing speed even as you were coming around him.  Weak little cries fell from your throat each time his hips met yours and the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of you.

Your body went limp in his arms and you hadn't noticed before how good it felt for him to hold you, for his strong hands to support you like it was nothing.  His thumb gently stroked your back through your shirt and you mewled weakly into his shoulder.

"So good, draga, so fucking good," he mumbled, holding you closer.

"Please… faster," you whimpered, "I want you to come."

"Is that what you want?" he taunted, ignoring the way you nodded immediately.  "You want to make me come, darling?"

"Yes, please, want it so much," you gasped.

He finally sped up, though it was still nothing like the lightning-speed jackhammering you were used to from guys your age: it was better, certainly, especially when he lifted your leg onto his shoulder and pushed so deep you saw stars.

The second one seemed to hit you all at once, almost out of nowhere, and you heard yourself mumble, “Professor, I’m coming.”  It sounded a bit pitiful, the way you said it, but he apparently didn’t mind as you felt him nod encouragingly in the crook of your neck.

You felt totally drained by now, exhausted even though all you’d been doing was lying there and taking it, but you knew he wasn’t done with you yet.  But, if the way his thrusts were becoming more desperate and erratic were anything to go by, he might be done with you soon.

"I'm going to come inside you," he groaned against your ear.  You were, like, 99.9% sure that if you told him not to, he would pull out, but the way that he phrased it, like a demand, like you didn't have a choice and he would do it either way… it had an effect on you, one he noticed when your channel tightened around him instantly.  "Oh, you like that idea, hm?  You want to be full of my come?  Your sweet little cunt is already trying to milk every drop from me."

"Yes," you breathed, "fuck, I want your come in me, please!"

He sped up quite a bit then, each slam of his hips into yours making you choke on a whine, your arms weakly clinging onto him for dear life.

You could feel his cock swelling, flexing, pushing your body to its limits as he moaned lowly through his teeth, streams of come making you feel warm and full.

He didn't stop until every drop was in you, thrusting in time with each pump of his release until he slowed to a stop.

Strands of hair fell into his face as he hung his head, panting hard and fast.  You melted back onto the desk, realizing this might be the first time in a solid half hour your back wasn’t arched.

It was a bit of a struggle to keep your eyes open against the heavy fog of afterglow that filled your mind; you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so… satiated.  As a college student, you were always thinking about the next assignment, mentally re-evaluating your calendar, or preparing for something— and usually all on less than six hours of sleep.

But now your mind was as close to a blank slate as it had been in at least a decade.  Even though you probably should’ve been, you weren’t even thinking about the potential consequences of this, the implications, the risks.  No, you were just staring up at him, thinking about kissing him again.

He would have to lean down for that, though; there was no way you were going to sit up now.

You hadn't even noticed that you had closed your eyes, almost falling asleep right there on his desk, until you felt his hand cradle your face softly, a calloused thumb rubbing over your cheek.

In unison, the both of you sighed deeply.

As much as it felt like a real effort, you blinked open your eyes and looked up at him, watching him comb his fingers through his hair.  It only messed up the style even further yet he looked better than ever.

He slowly moved his hips back, leaving you annoyingly empty, and readjusted himself until he almost looked put together again… but his collar was still uneven and his lips still looked bitten and there was still that precious pinkish hue on his cheeks.  If anyone else saw him in this state, they’d either know what happened between you two or think he’d just run across campus or something.

If anyone else saw him in this state, you’d be a little jealous, to be totally honest.

You got back to work trying to right your appearance as well, though you knew the best you could hope for was only mildly presentable; he looked at you like you’d never looked better, though.

“Well, this was fun,” you chuckled breathlessly, “but it’s getting pretty late and I have an eight a.m. tomorrow…”

“Yeah, so do I,” he nodded, glancing away.  

You picked up your bag from where you’d dropped it by the door, lifting the strap over your shoulder and starting to turn to leave.

"I… I should walk you back to your dorm," he announced, making you smile.

"That's sweet, but save your chivalry.  I can take care of myself just fine."

"But—"

"I think it's safer if we're not seen together walking together by my dorm," you interjected, "especially when I'm walking a little funny…"

"I hope I didn't hurt you," he winced sympathetically.

"No, trust me, that was… exactly what I needed," you breathed.  He smiled a little, looking down at the floor.

"Then I'll see you in class," he nodded, watching you closely as you stepped back and picked up your bag, starting to leave his office with one last small wave goodbye.  “Wait, wait!” he whispered harshly just before you could let go of his door, and you giggled as he leaned out into the hall and glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.  

When he confirmed the coast was clear, he smiled and grabbed your face with one hand, pulling you into a sudden kiss.  And you smiled too— you couldn’t help it— as you kissed him back, almost ready for him to drag you back into that office and start this all over again.  He did let you go, though, with one more whispered ‘goodnight’ and a look that made your heart do little somersaults.

As you finally did make your way back to your dorm, you tried to figure out if that was a goodbye kiss or a ‘see you soon’ kiss.  Or maybe a ‘thanks for the one-time office quickie’ kiss?  But you didn’t know enough about this sort of thing to know if that was even an option.

All you did know was that you really hoped it wasn’t the last kiss you’d have with him.

Can I speak to you in my office today after class?  Thank you.

-Z

You may ask yourself: can one simple email, in only thirteen words, strike fear into the hearts of those who read it?  And the answer is yes, assuming that email is from Professor Helmut Zemo and read by the lovestruck student who slept with him two days ago and hasn't stopped thinking about it since.

Only one of a few things could happen in his office after class, and there was a massive gap between the best and worst case scenarios.  You dressed for the best but prepared yourself psychologically for the worst.

You caught him staring as you walked past the teaching podium to your seat in the front; you just hoped nobody else caught him.  And if you'd thought paying attention in class was tough before, boy oh boy was it a challenge now.  The nerves of what he wanted to discuss with you were bad enough alone, but that combined with memories from two days earlier randomly assaulting your psyche was just overwhelming.

When he pointed at the map with two fingers, you could remember exactly how those fingers had felt inside you, twisting and curling and getting you ready for his cock.

When he spoke, you could hear the difference in his voice compared to how he groaned out his praises while he was fucking you within a damn inch of your life.

And every once in a while, when he couldn’t help but glance at you for a moment, his gaze burned right through you; you were helpless to those brown eyes, completely paralyzed by them, and it must’ve been hours of that before class finally ended.

For the first time, you were the first person out the door when he released the class.  As much as it was going to be a little bit weird to beat him to his office, it was certainly better than any of your other options.  There was a chair in the hall beside the door, and you took a seat and pretended to read a book just to look busy (there was no way you could actually turn symbols on a page into readable language right now, not when you knew he’d be here any minute to talk about… something).

Your peripheral caught him coming down the hall, but you pretended to be deeply immersed in your book until he was right beside you, unlocking his door and opening it for you and himself.  Tucking your book away and following him inside, you found him already staring at you, expression completely unreadable.  Your gut sank in anticipation of whatever conversation this was going to become, and a moment passed in heavy silence.

"Hi," you greeted plainly, letting out a quick breath.

"Hi," he returned.  "Close the door behind you."

You nodded and did as you were told, quietly pushing the wood back until the door latched before approaching where he had come to stand beside his desk.  Though you didn't originally intend to, you found yourself standing a bit too close.

"I'm not quite sure where to start," he admitted, chuckling breathlessly as he reached up to rub the back of his neck.  He looked cute flustered, which was a shame because his tone seemed to imply you needed to not be thinking about how cute he was.  “Listen, you should know that what happened before… it was a mistake,” he sighed.  “It can’t happen again.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked point-blank.

“It can’t happen again,” he repeated in lieu of a real answer, and you looked closely at his face; you didn’t find as much confidence there as you were looking for, it wasn’t the face of a man who knew he was making the right choice.  You certainly didn’t think he was making the right choice.

“Why did you want to have this conversation alone in your office, then?” you challenged.

He cleared his throat slightly.  “So no one would hear us.”

“Hear us talk?” you pressed.  “Is that all?”

“That’s… definitely the plan,” he nodded, swallowing dryly.  "Like I said, it was a mistake— my fault, not yours.  And I just hope we can put it behind us respectfully."

“All the best mistakes are made at least twice,” you whispered, reaching up to trail your finger down his lapel.  “Don’t you think?”

“Don’t do that,” he requested tensely.

"Do what?"

"That," he hissed.  "Stop being… irresistible," he clarified, eyes darting from your lips to your finger to your eyes and back again.  "A man can only take so much.  I'm trying to do right by you."

"You already did when you fucked me that good," you smirked.  "Nothing else could be as right as that."

Your fingers were just barely brushing over his belt when he grabbed you by the wrist.  Jaw tight and eyes solemn, he shook his head.

You wrenched out of his grasp with a nod.  It was worth a shot, but you didn't want to be that person who couldn't take no for an answer— so, you gave him a little smile and readjusted the strap of your bag.  “Well, if it was just the once, then you should know that I’m still glad it happened.  Even if it shouldn’t have.”

He nodded, strategically not speaking— but you knew he would agree, if he could.

“And if it’s any consolation to you now, you were the best I ever had.”

You reached for the doorknob, just starting to turn it and open your way out when he suddenly slammed it shut with a hand right above your head, making you gasp and spin around to look up at his dark gaze.

“Professor…” you whispered.

“The best you ever had?” he repeated, grinning proudly when you nodded.  “Oh, sweetheart, I wasn’t even trying.”  He leaned down to brush his lips against your ear as he whispered to you: “You don’t even know yet how good I can make you feel.”

A shiver ran up your spine; your tongue darted out to lick your lips.  “Are you going to get on with it and show me?”

He didn’t even let you step away from the door, dropping to his knees right there and pushing up your skirt to kiss and bite your thighs.  “Only if you ask very nicely,” he taunted with a brow raised in challenge.

“Please,” you breathed, “fuck, please, want you to taste me.”

His hands slid up your legs, grabbing the hem of your panties before sliding back down.

It wasn’t like you’d never been eaten out before, but this still felt like a first considering your skirt was pushed up to your waist, your panties were pulled down to your ankles, and even just one slow lick over your folds made it obvious he knew exactly what he was doing.

“F-fuck,” you choked, reaching down to weave your fingers into his hair.  He grinned against your skin and kept going, exploring you carefully before finally sucking on your swollen clit.  Your knees threatened to buckle, your head fell back against the door so hard it almost hurt, but all you could really feel was his mouth on you, moving like he knew your body better than you did.

So it was no wonder, then, that you already began to spiral towards your release, legs shaking around his head as he devoured you mercilessly.

"Oh my god, I—" you tried to warn him, but he already knew, and he pulled back to wipe his mouth with his sleeve and stand up.  He grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, stopping to whisper to you so close that his lips brushed against yours.

"I'm sorry, draga, but you've spoiled me… now that I've felt you come around my cock, I can't imagine making you come any other way.  I need to feel your cunt grip me so fucking tight… it's all I've been thinking about since I last saw you," he admitted.

"I thought about it, too," you sighed.  "I was up all night trying to make myself come as good as you did but I couldn't… your come was still leaking out of me."

He growled and leaned in to nip at your ear.  "Oh, poor thing… I can imagine it so easily, you laying in your bed with your legs spread, fingers getting exhausted from playing with your little pussy too much, these perfect lips whining for me because you need me to take care of you."

"H-Helmut, please," you whimpered.  

"Yeah, something like that," he smirked.

"I can't wait any more, just fuck me.  Need you inside me," you breathed.

"Then bend over my desk."

{part 2}

[when-wolves-howl]

A Deal With The Devil

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: You make a deal with Ross that you know you'll end up regretting.

Genre: Angst. Tiniest bit of fluff if you squint

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Chapter 4 is here.The angst is still here but our favourite witch is back. No Natasha yet but she'll show up in the next chapter. I promise. Enjoy reading!

Masterlist

*please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours*

_____________________________________________________________

“What do you want? you seethed, sending a death glare to the archer. By being too distracted by all of the other sounds throughout the compound, you missed Clint’s footsteps making their way to Wanda’s room. Then again, he is a spy. You’re not supposed to hear him.

“I heard you screaming. Figured I would see if you were okay” he answered.

“What do you care?" You don’t care for your harsh tone. Rising from your knees, you move to sit at the end of bed. You clench your fists against the comforter when you realise Clint hasn't moved from his spot against the door. You will yourself to breathe through your nose and out of your mouth. You look to Clint to catch him rolling his eyes in your direction.

“I care, Y/N” Clint admits.

“Bullshit. You never cared about me or my relationship with Nat” It’s the first time you've said her name since you last saw her. It hurts to hear it and even more to say it. But with your return to the compound and now sitting in front of her best friend, it was inevitable that you could avoid it.

“That’s not true” With the force you just used to roll your eyes, you're pretty sure you just saw your brain.

“I don’t care. Apparently I don’t have a girlfriend anymore, so you and I will only speak to each other when necessary. Got it? Good.” You stand up and walk towards the door, leaving no room for Clint to speak further but he decides he wants to piss you off even more.

“She never stopped looking for the people that did it, you know? Not for a single second.” Clint explains. He still hasn't moved from his spot against the door and with you standing directly in front of him, you think to test the soundproofing of the room by throwing him across it.

“I don’t want to hear it, Barton” you spit out. You listen in on Clint’s heartbeat and it’s as steady as a rock. He’s not scared of you and he shouldn't be. You wouldn't hurt him, no matter how much you wanted him to shut up.

“She just went about it a little smarter than Wanda” The mention of your best friends name in any negative context has you wanting to take the knife you know is tucked into his boot and take both of his thumbs. See how good he can shoot the pointy sticks then.

“Move out of my way, before I make you move out of my way’ you warn. Clint steps aside and before you walk out the door, you take once last glance at the nightstand drawer. You never want to see that velvet box again. You make your way back to the dining room but all that remain are Bucky , Pietro, Steve and Tony. The mess in the dining room has been cleared and the four men have gathered around the kitchen bench. You walk up to them, feeling calmer then you were minutes ago. Being around people that you trust does that to you.

“What’s happening with Wanda?” you ask immediately. All men turn to you with frowns on their faces.

“What do you mean?” Tony asks.

“She’s been in there for a goddamn year. We have to get her out of there. Right now.”

“Y/N, do you not think we've tried? I’ve had lawyers who are still working today to free her, politicians, other billionaires like myself to try and help her but our President isn’t budging. The President of Germany wanted someone to take the fall for the casualties in Berlin so our President had to do whatever it took to keep these peace between the U.S and Germany. The German President wasn't willing to admit that Hydra agents were in the area either, so it came down to Wanda’s arrest. We were lucky that the German government even allowed Wanda to come back to the States” Tony explains. You understand why your President and Germany's President need to be on good terms but that doesn't help your best friend who has been rotting in a cell for the last year. But it’s not good enough. Not by a long shot. You hear F.R.I.D.A.Y announce that a visitor has arrived but a name isn’t mentioned. They must have an access card. You need yours back. Steve steps forward and places his hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N, I know how much you care for Wanda. Believe me, I know what it’s like not having your best friend when you need them the most. But we can’t go against the President. The Accords fell through because we managed to convince the U.N that we were able to keep ourselves in check. We have abide by those rules. If we don’t- ”

“I don’t care Steve. She doesn't belong there. She is not a villain and I wont let anyone treat her like one. She’s been through enough and at this point, so have I. If no one can or is willing to help her, I'll get her out myself. She may also be the only one who can help me get my memories back” You see both Bucky and Pietro smirk behind Tony and Steve and you try to keep your own smirk under control. Those two were the worst influences before you disappeared. You know they’d help you if you wanted to break Wanda out of The Raft.

“That won’t be happening” You turn to the voice speaking and see Everett Ross and Maria standing there with a team of armed men behind them. Looks like you’ll need to turn on enhanced hearing on while you're in the compound. You quickly eye Maria and she mouths an ‘I’m sorry’. So much for a couple before Ross came knocking. “You’ll be coming with us Y/LN.”

“I don’t think so” you said, not bothering to care about his sudden appearance. But then again, you needed something from him, so you had to give him something in return. He raised his eyebrows at your defiance and motioned for the armed when to move towards you. You raised your hands in surrender and decided to make a deal. “I will come with you, but I want to see Wanda first. Right now.”

“Not a chance. You’re lucky I don't just arrest you here and now. Director Hill is also lucky I didn't arrest her for aiding and abetting a fugitive” scoffed Ross. He had a scowl on his face that could rival Bucky’s.

“I’m not a fugitive. I've done nothing wrong. Excuse me for not wanting to held against my will with vibranium handcuffs. Look, I understand your skepticism about me. I’m questioning everything about myself right now as well. But I want to see Wanda right now. After that, I’ll surrender to you. You can run whatever tests you want on me to see if I've turned back to Hydra. I haven’t by the way, but if it makes you feel better to poke around my brain, then I’ll do it. If you don’t, then it won't end nicely and you’ll never see me again.” Your challenging tone makes Ross close his eyes tightly and shake his head while he thinks for a moment.

“Fine. I’ll get you in this one time. After that, you're back to Washington for testing.”

“No. We’ll do it here. I don't trust you or any of your doctors. I only trust two people with my brain and that's Tony and Bruce.”

"Deal. But I'm bringing in my own Doctor. Take it or leave it.” Ross bargained. You mumbled out a ‘whatever’ as you walked past him and towards the jet he took to get here. You were finally going to see Wanda.

———

The journey to the raft was quick and before you knew it, you saw the prison rising from the depths of the ocean. It made you feel sick that Wanda was inside. She had been treated like a villain nearly her whole life but you both, along with Pietro changed for the better. You never wanted to be on the wrong side of the law, you just wanted to live in a better world than the one you grew up in. Now she was locked up like an animal. You’re back now and the only reason she's in prison is because she thought you had died and her grief got the better of her.

Stepping off the Quinjet, you follow Ross and two armed men into the prison. After a security check, you’re led through a dark hall and come to end arriving at a surveillance room. You ignore Ross when he speaks to the security officer, instead searching the monitors

Looking around the at the monitors, you recognise some of the prisoners. Some the Avengers had put in the cells and some you had a personal hand in. You can’t see her so you turn your head to Ross to ask, but he’s already looking at you and points to a separate monitor. It shows multiple camera feeds. You think it must be the more dangerous prisoners and your assumptions are correct when you see her in corner of the screen. She's being kept in a room by herself in glass box with little ammenities. A bed, toilet and sink. The bare minimum for probably the most dangerous person here. She’s sitting on her bed reading a book so you can’t see her face but you’d recognise her anywhere.

A small smile forms on your face but it instantly disappears when you see the collar around her neck. You know what it does and how it makes her feel. It’s not the first time she's worn it. But it will be the last. You look at Ross again and he sees the fury in your features but doesn't say anything. You know they won't remove it if you ask. He tells you to follow the guard to Wanda’s cell.

When you reach the cell room, you tell the guard to wait outside the door. He reluctantly does when you give him a firm look that says you aren't taking no for an answer so he leaves. You turn around and slowly walk towards the cell. She’s still reading her book but doesn't look up to your foot steps that end in front of her. You take in her appearance and notice a few things. She’s definitely underweight with sunken eyes and her signature crooked smile is no where to be seen. Your heart breaks for her. Her long red hair sits past her shoulders but it doesn't have the same shine that you remember. She doesn't belong here. You try to ignore the blinking light on the collar around her neck.

“Tell Ross, I have no energy to use my powers today. I haven’t recovered since the last time.” You frown at Wanda’s words while she turns the next page of her book. Her voice is tired and sounds weak. You're ready to break her out of here right now. You hold your hand against the glass and push hard, to test it’s stability but it doesn't even make a creak. Reinforced. She probably thinks you're one of the guards.

“Wanda” you whisper out. You can already hear her heartbeat start to quicken at the sound of your voice Her hand stops mid page turn but she doesn't look up. Instead, she puts her book to the side and closes her eyes tightly and repeatedly shakes her head. You repeat her name but she won’t look at you. She puts her hands over her eyes and you can see tears start to fall down her cheeks. You can’t help but cry either. You've only been back a few days and since you couldn't have the one redhead you wanted, your other red head was next in line. Not that she's a second choice. You just want your best friend back. You know how to comfort each other. You fall to your knees to try to get her to look at you. Both of your hands rest against the glass.

“Wanda, please look at me.” you beg. Wanda presses her hands tighter to her ears and you can hear her heart beat louder than ever. You can hear her muttering under her that you're not real. That she's being tricked.

“Stop, Please stop. Tell Ross I’ll do whatever he wants. Just please stop this. I can’t.” Her voice is dripping with anguish but you need to snap her out of her out if it or she's going to have a panic attack. You decide to bang your fists against the glass as hard as you can. The glass shakes a little under your fists but but doesn't move from its hinges. You hear the door to the cell room swing open and see Ross and his two men charge through, weapons at the ready but you put a hand out to stop them. You tell them you have everything under control so they leave. You know they're still on the other side of the door. You turn back to Wanda and try harder to get her to look at you.

“RED!” you scream as loud as you can. Wanda whips her head up at the sound of her pet name that you always called her and meets your eyes. They widen at your figure but you can still see the disbelief in them. Wanda stands from the bed and slowly walks towards the glass keeping you separated and kneels down to match your height.

“Y/N?” you nod at your name with a small grin on your face.

“It’s me Wanda. I swear.” you promise. Wanda just stares at you with curious eyes but you know she's analysing all of your features. She's not sure if it’s really you and not some sick game that Ross is playing to make her use her powers for whatever reason. If she thinks it isn't you, then she could have an outburst and destroy the whole building. Even with the collar around her neck, she's more powerful than anyone realises.

“Prove it” she demands. Her brows are furrowed in frustration because she can’t read your mind. She wipes at her face to clear the tears that have halted for the moment.

“What?” you question in confusion.

“Prove it. Tell me something only Y/N and I would know” she demands again. If she can't read your mind, she’ll ask personal questions. You understand. You rack your brain for the hundred of memories that reside in your brain, whatever is left of it. You choose one that stands out in particular.

“The day after Strucker experimented on me, you gave me your water because I had spilled mine all over ground. You knew the guards wouldn't give me more. You became my best friend that day” you say wholeheartedly. You smile at the memory. In a way, she saved you that day. Wanda’s eye soften at your words and you know she believes you. Her hands comes up to cover her mouth as she release deep sobs. You put your hand to the glass and nod at her to do the same and she does instantly.

“I don’t understand. W-what is going on? They pulled your body from the explosion” she stutters out. She’s just as confused as you are at this whole situation. You take a deep breath and stand up while Wanda just stares at you. You press a button on your watch and render the security camera useless and then quickly sprint to the cell room door and break the handle off it, effectively locking you in. You immediately hear Ross and the other men begin to pull at the handle on the other side and yell for you to let them in.

"What the hell are you doing?" Wanda asks loudly but you shush her as you return to and back to crouch down at her level.

"We don't have a lot time, Red. I swiped it from Tonys office before I came here. A little device that disrupts the security footage for ninety seconds" You point to the watch with a cheeky grin. "Basically, I woke up in Berlin two days ago and I have no memory of the past three years. I don't know what the hell is going on. I was taken to S.H.I.E.L.D HQ and Maria told me that the CIA want to know where I've been this whole time because they've pretty much taken over S.H.I.E.L.D and the compound but I have no answers Wanda. I don't know what to do" you explain quickly. Wanda digests your words but they've rendered her speechless so you continue. “Nothing is the same anymore. Fury is gone, the CIA is working with S.H.I.E.L.D and the Avengers under the orders of The President, you're in here and Natasha got married. It’s all-”

“She got married?” Wanda grits out through her teeth, interrupting you. You nod at her and then look down at your hands, begging yourself not to cry over that. “Hey, look at me” You do with tears shimmering in your eyes. “Natasha Romanoff doesn't deserve you.” You show a small smile at the protectiveness of your best friend.

“She was the one who brought me in” you say in a sad whisper. You see Wanda’s jaw tighten but you look at her with reassuring eyes. “I’m okay, Red. I’ll cry about it to you later. Right now, I just needed to see you and let you know that I’m here. I’m alive and I'm getting you out of here.” Wanda just frowns at you and shakes her head at you but you look to watch your watch. Thirty seconds until the cameras are back online. The bangs on the door continue but you ignore them.

“No Y/N, I belong in here. I killed those people. I don’t want you to end up in here either”

“I don’t believe that you did. You're innocent.You’re not a murderer. But right now, I need you with me Wanda. Besides Pietro, theres no one else I trust more than you. Well maybe you a little more than

Piet” Wanda’s eyes light up at the mention of her brothers name and she giggles at what you said. “I need your help to figure out where I've been and what I was doing. I can’t do it without you”

“You can’t just break me out of here. They’ll find you. Find us.” Wanda pleads with you. She won't go on the run and neither will you. It would lessen any chance of you finding out where you've been and you won't let Wanda be seen as villain any longer.

“I’m not breaking you out of here but I am getting you out. I promise. Just give me a couple of days and you'll be out of here. Okay?” You've never broken a promise to each other and you're not about to start now. Your watch begins to beep at a five second timer.

“You said you woke up in Berlin. When I was there, I found something -“ Wanda is cut off by the timer off the watch so you signal her to be quiet. She nods in understanding. You walk over the door and grab the handle from the ground and shove it back in its place and pull the door open like nothing even happened. Ross and his men are still on the other side looking furious. Ross shoves past you to look around the room but sees nothing out of place. He instructs the guards to remove you from the room. They try to move you by your shoulders but you stand firmly in your place. They don’t match your strength, not by a long shot. You turn back to Wanda and see her tears have returned. But you smile at reassuringly.

“Do you trust me?” you ask in Sokovian. You know only Wanda will understand.

“Of course” She smiles at her native language.

“Then two days. You'll be free and that fucking collar will be gone. Be strong for me please” Wanda nods at your words. She trusts you. She always did.

“I missed you” Wanda barely whispers. She knows you'll hear it.

“I missed you too, Red. See you soon.” you say with a wink. You allow the men to finally escort you from the room and back to the monitor room and easily shake yourself from their hold. Ross follows you in and looks pissed off.

“What were you saying to Maximoff? What was that language? Sokovian?” Ross asks angrily.

“I was catching up with my best friend, Director. I told her that I missed her. She hasn't seen me in three years.” you retort just as angrily. You’re finding it really hard to keep your composure and not take everyone out and grab Wanda and make a run for it. Ross huffs at your answer and tells the guards to take you back to the quintet. Before you step on, Ross grabs you by the elbow and spins you around.

“Bright and early Y/LN. I kept up my end of the bargain, it’s time for you too keep up yours. Myself and a doctor will be at the Avengers compound to begin our own testing. I don’t exactly have much faith in Banner’s results. I want to see the testing and results myself” Ross tells you with a hint of a twisted smile upon his lips. You roll your eyes at him and then step onto the jet alone, noticing Ross and his men staying behind. You don’t care to ask. Taking a seat at the back of the quintet, you take out the phone Tony gave you before you left and dial one of the few number programmed into it.

“Strongest Super Soldier speaking, how can I help you?” grunts out Bucky. You chuckle at the lie he just told.

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe I'm speaking to myself.” you reply casually and Bucky laughs at your reply.

“What do you need?” he asks.

“I’m going to need your help with something and if we’re found out, we’ll probably end up in jail or on the run for the rest of our lives” you explain cautiously. You rather be on the run than in jail. You could little more comfortably that way.

“Eh, I was frozen for a few decades, I can handle jail but I’d prefer to run” You snort a laugh at Bucky reading your thoughts. “You’re getting Wanda out, aren't you?”

“How the hell did you guess that?” you ask bewildered at how this grandpa of a man knows you so well.

“It wasn't hard to guess. I’d do it for Steve” You smile at the thought of their friendship and how it like yours and Wanda’s. “So how are we doing it? Sneak into the Raft? Take out the guards? The usual? I’m assuming we'll need Pietro”

“We’ll need Piet. But no, we won't be doing any of that’ you reply firmly.

“What then?” Bucky asks.

“We’re going to blackmail The President” you answer, ending the call.

Chapter 5

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[ryosmne]

Three brats??

Dad!Sukuna x f!reader

So this is basically a comfort fic, featuring dad! Sukuna because the brainrot was too much. Ok so, the reader and Sukuna have a son together, yes their son is Yuuji, I know this is usually the single father Sukuna trope, but I wanted to give it a go, feedback is always appreciated. Thanks for brainrotting with me @likeab-o-s-s cause this is the reason this exists. That's all from me enjoy reading.

Warnings: none really, just family, heartwarming fluff.

The air was crisp and fresh, unusually refreshing for the beginning of summer. Parents were already gathered outside the daycare, Yuuji, y/n's and Sukuna's son attended, patiently waiting for their kids to run in their arms again.

Sukuna arrived a couple of minutes before the final bell on his motorcycle, he took off his helmet, leaned back on his bike and waited for the familiar little pink head of hair to come wobling to him.

The three mothers next to him, scooted a bit closer to him to get a better look nothing he's unfamiliar with and no one can blame them, Sukuna is a sight for sore eyes. Leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up, extenuating his board shoulders, exposing his tattoo covered skin, v neck white t shirt, allowing his toned chest and even more of his tattoos to show and a simple black pair of pants hugging his muscular thighs in the best of ways.

In the past some of the bolder ones had mustered the courage and asked him if he was a single father since they had never seen his son's mother, but with a laugh Sukuna brushed them off telling them how his lovely wife was a working parent and her schedule just didn't match the daycares. Maybe the very unconventional wedding rings they got weren't the best idea in this situation, even though they were extremely beautiful and unique.

"I really admire the work you put in the little guy" Sukuna's gaze met a woman who attempted to strike a conversation, oblivious to what she had meant by her statement he replied, maybe these three minutes would pass faster talking about normal things and not stressing about work.

"Don't we all put work on our kids?" He spoke calmly with a slight smile that he always wore when talking about Yuuji.

"Yeah, we do, but it still must be hard I can't imagine what you're going through" Sukuna's mind went to the worst scenario. Was Yuuji a trouble maker at school? He is a very well behaved child, both him and y/n made sure to teach him proper manners and how to be polite, that couldn't be it right?

The bell rung, and kids made their way out of the daycare, Yuuji in the blink of an eye was hugging his father's leg, exited to see him after the hours he was gone. In a swift motion Sukuna put Yuuji's little backpack on his own back and scooped the boy up in his arm.

"Yuuji's a pretty good kid, hes never been difficult" Sukuna smilled again resuming in the short conversation with the woman next to him. "Single father's like you don't get the credit they deserve". She spoke again smiling sadly down to the little pink haired boy who seemed too fixated on the earrings his father was wearing.

Sukuna finally understanding what this whole thing was about, chuckled, this had happened before after all, he should've known.

"I'm not a single parent, speaking of that your mom said she has a big surprise for you after dinner" he said directing his attention to his son again, the woman next to him quickly fumbled an apology for missundertanding, to which Sukuna replied to with a simple 'dont worry about it'. He placed Yuuji on his bike, put on both his and his boys helmet and drove off.

Y/n was still stuck at work, thankfully her husband would cook dinner tonight cause overtime was killing both her and her mood, good thing she finally had a day off tomorrow.

Y/n checked her phone to see how close she was to going home only to find a text that Yuuji's teacher had send her that was obviously meant for her husband.

Hello Mr Itadori, this is Mrs Laura from the day care. I was wondering if you wanted to get launch with me after school tomorrow, you can bring little Yuuji too, I'm awaiting your response, have a nice night.

What the hell was that? Well y/n's number was in Yuuji's contact information, she chuckled at the words displayed on her screen but she couldn't really blame the teach, Sukuna was a walking temptation, she knew that first hand, hell she fell head over heels for the dangerous looking guy who hid a heart of gold under his hard exterior, but the teacher could at least check who the number belonged to.

Y/n run her last errands and made sure to pick up Yuuji's surprise before heading home, she even tipped Sukuna off so their son wouldn't know what hit him.

Y/n made her way inside the family house, tossing her keys somewhere on the living room couch.

Yuuji immediately after hearing her car in the driveway came rushing down the stairs, jumping around her like he always did when she came home.

"Mom, mom you're home." The happiness was evident in the boys face, his smile was wide when y/n dropped to his level to pick him up and spin him around

"Yes I am little devil, did you give your father hell like we agreed?" She spoke in the happiest of tones with Yuuji still in her arms. Another set of arms engulfed her frame making her halt on spinning the little boy.

"So you're telling him to be a little brat now huh?" Sukuna's breath tickled the side of her neck and ear as he rested his head on her shoulder and wrapped his strong arms around her waist. "Welcome home love" he spoke again giving her jaw a ghost of a kiss.

"Daddy is the food ready" Yuuji spoke from y/n's arms, Sukuna only laughed at his son's appetite, and directed both him and y/n to the kitchen where he had already set everything up.

"Mommy, what is a single dad?" Yuuji asked in the middle of dinner in typical fashion of his, any question he had from something he heard through the day would always come up during dinner.

"Well Yuuji, single fathers are the fathers who raise their kids alone." The young boy seemed to think about his mother's words before speaking again. "So its just a daddy ?" Yuuji asked again with his eyes growing a bit sadder, his mother nodded, and Yuuji's eyes started to water.

"Baby what's wrong?" y/n asked. "Hey buddy what's going on?" Sukuna was growing quite concerned too. Yuuji burst in tears leaving his seat, climbing up his dad and hugging him tightly. Sukuna was rubbing his back to comfort the young boy and y/n's hand was stroking the kids hair in an effort to calm him down. "B-but why did that lady c-call you that, is m-mommy l-leaving?" Everything seemed to click for Sukuna, y/n was still confused but in the calmest sweetest voice said "Yuuji, baby look at me, I'm not going anywhere ok?" And the boy left his father's arms and clung on to her like his life depended on it.

Sukuna cracked a few jokes and lightened Yuuji's mood so he could enjoy the rest of his dinner, which went pretty well, he was his smiling adorable self very soon after his parents reassured him that none of them were ever leaving his side and the boy was now drawing with crayons in the living room. He seemed to have completely forgotten about the surprise his father mentioned when he picked him up.

Y/n and Sukuna were doing the dishes in the kitchen, each one talking about their day, Sukuna explained the awkward conversation he had at the daycare that sparked Yuuji's sadness, y/n took a turn in talking about how her son's teacher, basically asked Sukuna out on a date but messed up and texted her. "How about you set up a date and you show up? I mean it's you she texted right?" Sukuna joked "Babe, that's cruel" y/n chuckled at her husband's mischievous nature.

"So you've got everything ready?" Sukuna asked. "yeah who'll bring him over?"

"You do it I'll keep Yuuji busy."

Sukuna joined Yuuji on the couch. "What are you drawing little brat?" Y/n heard him ask their boy in the usual sweet tone he had with him. She made her way down the basement, where she kept the surprise since she came home. Yuuji was going to love this, Sukuna was too, she knew she was already in love as well.

Y/n climbed the stairs quickly, and snuck up behind her son, who was occupied by his dad, she gently tapped the boys shoulder.

"A PUPPY" Yuuji announced exited making sure his voice was still soft not to scare the eager dog that his mom brought to his arms. Yuuji gently held the puppy that was licking his face as he was in a fit of laughter and excitement. Sukuna was as exited as his son and y/n had a huge smile on her face too. Their son had begged and begged for a dog ever since his best friend, Megumi got a black German shepherd puppy. Of course y/n and Sukuna wanted to comply to Yuuji's request right away, but they took time to teach little Yuuji everything there was about the responsibility of owning a dog. They took him to dog cafes and shelters, so he would be the perfect little dog owner, they taught him patience and responsibility beforehand. Sukuna visited the local shelter and decided with y/n on a white Shepard puppy that Yuuji always pointed out in your visits because 'he looks like Megumi's puppy they can be friends like we are' who can say no to that little adorable devil?

The puppy momentarily left Yuuji's arms to lick Sukuna's face. "Now we've got two little brats and a big one in our house." He laughed, enjoying the moment.

Y/n was admiring her son and husband as well as the newest member of the family with a smile plastered wide on her face, life was indeed beautiful.

The next day, both Sukuna and y/n were waiting for Yuuji to finish school, since y/n had the day off. Sukuna had his arm protectively around her because this time, others were staring at what was his, but he was proud to show her off to everyone, even in a place as mundane as his son's daycare.

[the-dendrophile-bookdragon]

5. Krampus

A/N: This is day five. This little imagine contains a little lore I grew up with that is common in German-speaking countries. I won’t go into detail and I know it is not in Jewish lore but Erik is the only character I write for that has German roots. Enjoy!

Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr x reader

Warning: none, fluff, children, German/Austrian/Swiss lore

31 Masterlist

Erik was the best father you wished for your children. He was loving, patient and always made time for them. He taught them about his home country and his culture. He also taught them about non-Jewish traditions and lore he soaked up from his non-Jewish friends.

One was the lore of the Krampus and St. Nicholas. As a child he was intrigued by both. His friend told him that before St. Nicholas visited their homes to reward them with a little bag of a variety of nuts, an apple and sometimes when they were especially nice this year candy, chocolate, or and this was extremely rare a citrus fruit like an orange or a tangerine. But if you were naughty the Krampus would visit and gift you coal or a little wooden broom. One of his friends told him that he got coal from the demonic creature when he was smaller.

Every year Erik tried and failed to scare his children with the story of the Krampus. After all they knew a little about what you and he had to endure. Maybe it was also his own fault his children rolled their eyes at him and most times turned around and went to sleep. He told the story a little too dramatic.

“Honey, I think they are not scared of this mythical creature.” You laughed at your husband and kissed his cheek in sympathy. “Well maybe you should stop telling this story so dramatically. You must be more mysterious. You have another chance with Ana in a few years. But don’t scare her too much. And besides they behaved most of the time. I think they deserve some treats this year.”

He looked down at you lovingly. His rawest emotions were displayed in his eyes. “You are right.” He kissed the top of your head, “After all they are our children. Fear is something they only rarely feel. Or should rarely feel.”

You smiled up at him, “They know they don’t have to feel afraid because they know that their papa is always their to catch them and protect them from bad people or mythical creatures.”

He beamed down at you. With slow steady hands he cradled your head into his hands and leaned down to kiss you. You reached your hands around his neck and met him halfway. You nearly made out weren’t it for your kids who snugged out of bed. “What are you little monsters doing outside of bed. Fast, into your beds before you get coal to eat tomorrow.” Erik chased after them, playing a big monster that chased children that weren’t in bed.

You heard shrieking as your husband tickled your oldest daughter. “Mama! HELP! MAMA!” You jogged into your children’s bedroom and laughed. Emma, your second oldest daughter, was on top of her father’s back trying but failing to rescue her bigger sister. Ana your smallest was standing in her crip bouncing in it. She looked adorable with her sleep tousled hair and her two teeth smile. Her pacifier in one hand and her snuggle blankie in the other. It looked like she cheered on her older sister.

“Okay you little and big monsters, off to bed. Or there will be no visit to the mansion and no Peter.” Your daughters groaned and shrieked in protest. Erik stopped and held onto Emma so she wouldn’t fall off his back. Maria, your oldest took a long breath after Erik stopped his assault. He tucked the little monkey on his back into her bed and kissed her. You did the same with Maria and your very tired Ana. Erik made his rounds to his other two daughters. You turned of the lights and went out of the room. Erik closed the door but leaving a little gab so you could hear if one of your children needed your aid.

Erik put an arm around you and led you to your own bedroom.

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