#laszlo kreizler au

[andy-15-07]

A Love Unscripted

Summary: Daniel and Y/N, co-stars on a film set, experience an intense connection that quickly blossoms into love. As they navigate their deepening relationship, they find that their off-screen romance becomes the greatest story of their lives.

Paring: Daniel Brühl x reader

Words count: 2907

Daniel Brühl Masterlist | Masterlist

It was a bright, crisp morning in Berlin, and the air buzzed with excitement as the cast and crew gathered for the first day of shooting. This was no ordinary film set—this was the next big project from a critically acclaimed director, and everyone knew it had the potential to be a masterpiece. The title of the film, still under wraps, hinted at a deep, emotional journey that would challenge both the actors and the audience.

Y/N arrived on set with a mix of nerves and excitement, feeling the weight of this opportunity. It was their first major role, and although they had done their fair share of indie films and theater, this was different. The script had resonated deeply with Y/N when they first read it, and they knew this role could be a turning point in their career.

As Y/N stepped out of their trailer, adjusting the costume that already felt like a second skin, they noticed a familiar face on set. Daniel Brühl was speaking with the director, his warm, easygoing smile lighting up his features. Y/N had always admired Daniel’s work from afar—the subtlety of his performances, the way he could convey so much with just a glance or a slight change in his expression. Meeting him in person, however, was something they hadn’t quite prepared for.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N walked over to where Daniel and the director were chatting. As they approached, the director noticed Y/N and smiled broadly. "Ah, Y/N! Perfect timing. Come meet your co-star."

Daniel turned towards Y/N, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down. His eyes met Y/N’s, and there was an unmistakable spark—a connection that went beyond the usual pleasantries of a first meeting. Daniel’s smile widened, and there was a warmth in his gaze that immediately put Y/N at ease.

“Hi, I’m Daniel,” he said, extending his hand.

“Y/N,” they replied, shaking his hand. The touch lingered a bit longer than necessary, and Y/N felt a strange but pleasant flutter in their chest.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” Daniel continued, his voice smooth and genuinely kind. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”

Y/N chuckled, trying to ignore the heat rising to their cheeks. “Well, I hope I can live up to the hype.”

“I’m sure you will,” Daniel said, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s. “I watched some of your previous work. You’re really talented.”

Y/N was caught off guard by the compliment. “Thank you, that means a lot coming from you.”

Before the conversation could continue, the director clapped his hands. “Alright, let’s get started! We’ve got a lot to cover today.”

The first scene they were shooting was a pivotal one—an intense confrontation between Y/N and Daniel’s characters. The air was charged with anticipation as the crew set up the shot. Y/N took their position, trying to focus on the character’s emotions, but found themselves distracted by the fact that Daniel was standing so close.

Daniel, sensing Y/N’s nervousness, leaned in slightly and whispered, “Don’t worry, just be in the moment. We’ve got this.”

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath. As soon as the director called “Action,” the transformation was instantaneous. Y/N slipped into their character’s mindset, and the world around them faded away. The scene required them to confront Daniel’s character, emotions running high as they delivered their lines with a mixture of anger and vulnerability.

Daniel was incredible. His performance was raw, powerful, and it drew Y/N in, making it easy to react naturally. The chemistry between them was undeniable, and it crackled with intensity, as if they had known each other for years instead of mere minutes.

When the director finally called “Cut,” there was a moment of stunned silence on set. Y/N blinked, coming back to reality, and noticed that the crew was staring at them with something like awe. The director had a wide grin on his face.

“That was fantastic!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “The chemistry between you two is electric. If we can capture even a fraction of that in every scene, we’ve got something truly special here.”

Y/N glanced over at Daniel, who was still looking at them with that same warm smile. “You were amazing,” he said softly, his eyes full of admiration.

“So were you,” Y/N replied, feeling the flutter in their chest return.

As the day progressed, the initial nerves melted away. Daniel and Y/N fell into an easy rhythm, their connection both on and off-screen growing stronger with each take. Between scenes, they would chat about everything from their favorite films to their experiences growing up in different parts of the world. They discovered they had a lot in common—a shared love for classic cinema, a penchant for exploring new places, and a mutual respect for the craft of acting.

During lunch, they found themselves sitting together, away from the rest of the cast and crew. It wasn’t intentional, but it felt natural, as if they had always gravitated toward each other. As they ate, their conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by laughter and the occasional teasing remark.

“You know,” Daniel said, leaning back in his chair, “I didn’t expect to meet someone who’s as passionate about cinema as I am.”

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth in their heart. “I could say the same about you. It’s nice to talk to someone who gets it.”

Daniel nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s rare to find someone who really understands what it’s like to lose yourself in a role, to feel that connection with the character and the story. I can tell you’re someone who does.”

Y/N looked at Daniel, their eyes meeting once again. There was something in his gaze that made their heart skip a beat—an intensity, a depth that went beyond mere attraction. It was as if they were seeing each other, truly seeing each other, for the first time.

“I feel the same way,” Y/N admitted, their voice soft but sincere. “There’s something about this project, about working with you… It feels different. Special.”

Daniel’s gaze softened, and he reached across the table, his hand gently covering Y/N’s. “I feel it too,” he said quietly. “I think this could be the start of something really wonderful.”

The rest of the shoot passed in a blur. Days turned into weeks, and with each passing moment, Y/N and Daniel’s connection deepened. Their scenes together were electric, filled with a chemistry that was palpable to everyone on set. Off-camera, they spent more and more time together, often finding excuses to stay late after a day of shooting just to talk, to be in each other’s company.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day of filming, they decided to take a walk around the city. The night was cool, the streets quiet as they wandered aimlessly, talking about everything and nothing. Daniel seemed more relaxed than usual, his usual charisma softened by the late hour and the intimacy of the moment.

As they walked along the Spree River, the moonlight reflecting off the water, Daniel suddenly stopped. Y/N, who had been in the middle of a story, turned to look at him in surprise.

“Is everything okay?” Y/N asked, concerned.

Daniel smiled, a little sheepishly. “Yeah, it’s just… I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

Y/N’s heart began to race, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation bubbling up inside them. “What is it?”

Daniel hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

The question caught Y/N off guard. They stared at Daniel, their mind racing. Did they believe in love at first sight? They had always thought it was something that only happened in movies, in the stories they told on screen. But as they looked into Daniel’s eyes, so full of sincerity and something deeper, something that felt a lot like love, they found themselves reconsidering.

“I’m not sure,” Y/N replied honestly. “But… I think I might be starting to.”

Daniel’s smile widened, and without another word, he took a step closer. The distance between them disappeared as he gently cupped Y/N’s face in his hands, his touch warm and reassuring. Y/N’s breath caught in their throat as Daniel leaned in, his lips brushing theirs in a kiss that was soft, tentative, and full of unspoken emotions.

The world seemed to fade away in that moment. There was no film set, no crew, no cameras—just the two of them, standing by the river, lost in each other. The kiss deepened, and Y/N felt a warmth spread through their entire body, a sense of rightness, of inevitability, as if this was exactly where they were meant to be.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they shared a quiet moment of connection.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment we met,” Daniel admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N smiled, their heart full. “So have I.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world forgotten. It was a perfect moment, the kind that Y/N had only ever experienced in the movies they loved so much. But this wasn’t a script, and this wasn’t a role. This was real, and it was happening to them.

As they walked back to their hotel, hand in hand, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like they were living in a dream. But it was better than any dream they could have imagined—because it was real, and it was theirs.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions, both on and off set. Their relationship blossomed quietly, just under the radar of the curious eyes of the cast and crew. Though they kept it professional during filming, it was impossible to hide the subtle glances, the shared smiles, and the way their hands would brush as they passed each other by.

Y/N found themselves falling deeper for Daniel with every passing day. He was kind and considerate, with a sense of humor that caught them off guard and made them laugh when they least expected it. They had never felt this way before, and it scared them as much as it thrilled them. But there was a comfort in Daniel’s presence, a sense of safety that made them feel like everything was going to be okay.

One afternoon, they had a rare day off from shooting, and Daniel suggested they explore the city together. Berlin was full of history and culture, and though Y/N had been there for weeks, they hadn’t had much time to truly experience it.

They spent the day wandering through art galleries and museums, stopping at cafes for coffee and pastries. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how Daniel seemed to know all the best spots, the hidden gems that only locals frequented. He would tell stories about the city’s history, pointing out landmarks and sharing little anecdotes that made Y/N feel like they were getting a private tour from someone who truly loved the place.

As the day turned into evening, they found themselves at a small, cozy restaurant tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. The candlelit atmosphere was intimate, and Y/N could feel their heart racing as they sat across from Daniel, the flickering light casting shadows across his handsome features.

“This place is beautiful,” Y/N said, looking around at the warm, inviting decor. “How did you find it?”

Daniel smiled, a little shyly. “I’ve been here a few times. It’s one of my favorite spots in the city. I thought you might like it.”

Y/N reached across the table, taking his hand in theirs. “I love it. Thank you for bringing me here.”

Daniel’s eyes softened, and he squeezed Y/N’s hand gently. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say,” he began, his voice serious.

Y/N felt a flutter of nerves in their stomach. “What is it?”

Daniel hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but… I can’t help the way I feel. From the moment we met, I felt this connection between us, something I’ve never experienced before. I don’t want to scare you off, but I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Y/N’s breath caught in their throat, their heart pounding in their chest. They had felt it too, but hearing Daniel say it out loud made it all the more real, all the more intense.

“I feel the same way,” Y/N admitted, their voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been trying to make sense of it, but… I think I’m falling for you too.”

The relief in Daniel’s eyes was palpable, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He stood up from his seat, moving to sit beside Y/N, and pulled them into a gentle embrace. Y/N melted into his arms, feeling the warmth of his body against theirs, the steady beat of his heart under their cheek.

For a while, they just sat there, holding each other, letting the world outside fade away. It was as if time had stopped, leaving just the two of them in their own little bubble of happiness. They talked quietly, sharing their hopes and dreams, their fears and insecurities. It was easy to be vulnerable with Daniel, easy to let down the walls they had built around their heart.

As the evening wore on, they decided to head back to the hotel, their hands intertwined as they walked through the quiet streets. The city was alive with the soft hum of nightlife, but Y/N only had eyes for Daniel, who looked at them with such affection that it made their heart ache in the best possible way.

When they reached Y/N’s hotel room, they lingered outside the door, neither of them wanting the night to end. Daniel brushed a strand of hair from Y/N’s face, his touch tender and full of longing.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly, his voice full of emotion.

Y/N nodded, their heart racing. They opened the door, leading Daniel inside, and as soon as it closed behind them, he pulled them into a deep, passionate kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of all the emotions they had been holding back, all the desire and affection that had been building between them since the day they met.

They stumbled toward the bed, their lips never breaking contact, and as they fell into the soft sheets, Y/N knew this was where they were meant to be—wrapped in Daniel’s arms, lost in the feeling of being loved and cherished by someone who saw them for who they truly were.

The night was a blur of whispered words and tender touches, of shared laughter and quiet moments of connection. When they finally drifted off to sleep, tangled up in each other, Y/N felt a peace they had never known before. It was as if all the pieces of their life had finally fallen into place, and they knew, deep in their heart, that this was just the beginning of something truly beautiful.

The next morning, they woke up to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains. Daniel was still asleep beside them, his face peaceful and relaxed, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile as they watched him. They had never felt this content, this happy, and they knew they had found something special, something worth holding onto.

As Daniel stirred awake, his eyes meeting Y/N’s with a sleepy smile, they leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Good morning,” Y/N whispered, their voice full of affection.

“Good morning,” Daniel replied, his voice husky with sleep. He pulled Y/N closer, his arms wrapping around them as if he never wanted to let go. “Last night was… incredible.”

“It was,” Y/N agreed, their heart swelling with emotion. “I don’t want this to end.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Daniel said, his gaze serious. “I meant what I said last night. I’m falling for you, Y/N, and I want to see where this goes. I don’t care about the logistics or what anyone else thinks. All I know is that I want to be with you.”

Tears pricked at Y/N’s eyes as they looked into Daniel’s sincere gaze. They had been so afraid to let themselves fall, but now that they had, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“I want that too,” Y/N said, their voice choked with emotion. “I want to be with you, Daniel.”

He smiled, a smile so full of warmth and love that it took Y/N’s breath away. “Then let’s make it happen. We’ll figure it out together.”

And so, they did. As the film production continued, so did their relationship, growing stronger with each passing day. They faced the challenges together, navigating the complexities of a public relationship in a private world, but nothing could diminish the connection they shared.

When the film finally wrapped, and it was time to say goodbye to the set and the characters they had brought to life, Y/N and Daniel knew that this was just the beginning of their story. They had found something real, something lasting, and as they walked hand in hand into the next chapter of their lives, they knew they were ready to face whatever came next, as long as they were together.

In the end, it wasn’t just a love story scripted for the screen—it was their love story, one that would continue to unfold in ways they could never have imagined. And as they looked into each other’s eyes, they knew that this was the greatest role they would ever play, not as actors, but as themselves, deeply in love and ready to take on the world, side by side.

[valquiria3000]

I was reading this in class and to tell you just how much effort I had to put on not laughing while reading this, I LOVED THIS, the modern AU fic I didn’t know I needed ❤️❤️❤️

WC: 1829

Rated: M

Tags: humor, adult and sexual humor, detailed descriptions of male genitalia, fluff, married life

A/N: I saw a commercial for this on Facebook and thought it was a joke but it's not apparently. And then I got to talking with @lorna-d-m …. Anyways :)

🩲

The front door shuts and locks with a soft click. You drop your luggage next to the side table, letting out a sigh as you stretch and crack the joints in your stiff neck. After an almost 6 hour flight, plus a 3 hour delay due to bad weather, you were finally back in New York. The townhouse you share with your husband is quiet, dark. Only the soft sounds of Tchaikovsky can be heard wafting from the upstairs home office, leading you to where your Laszlo must be. Looking at your cell phone's clock you see it's nearly 10pm; you know he's eaten dinner by now and is likely just waiting for your impending arrival.

Climbing the stairs you stop and lean on his door frame. Laszlo is concentrated on a book, his brows scrunched and round glasses perched on the edge of his nose. He gives a tiny grunt before writing something in one of his many notebooks.

"Find anything interesting?"

His face pops up from the tome. "Ah! Bärchen, I didn't hear you come in." He marks his page before standing and walking over to you. Laszlo's kiss is warm and comforting, welcoming you home after nearly a week away. His hands find purchase on your waist. "Your flight was smooth I trust?"

"A little turbulence but otherwise it was fine, yeah."

"And the conference?"

"A lot of fun - I'll have to take you with me next year. I'm sure you'll get a kick out of some of the lecturers and their crazy ideas about collective psyche and social movements." You roll your eyes in good humor.

Laszlo leans in once more, his lips brushing delicately against yours. He quickly deepens the kiss. You can feel the way his body presses closer to you, a subtle firmness along your hip. Before things can get too heated you break away to look into his amber eyes. "As much as I would love to... make up for lost time," you give him a pout, "I'm exhausted and just want to shower and go to bed." You level him with your best puppy dog look as a means to apologize for killing the moment.

Laszlo chuckles. "There is nothing to apologize for, my dear. Having you back in my arms is more than enough for me." He steps back, using his left hand to gently guide you from where you lean and into the hall towards your bedroom. You beeline for the ensuite bathroom, your husband a few steps behind in the bedroom finding you something clean to change into. "Have you had a chance to eat something?" he calls to you.

His question reminds you that in your desperation to return to your loving husband and wash off the day you neglected to actually eat more than the paltry bag of airplane pretzels. As if on cue your stomach growls. You lean your head back towards the bedroom as you pull a fresh towel from the closet. "No, I figure I'll shower and then whip up a little something before bed."

"Allow me."

You turn to look back at him as you continue to set up the shower, removing your traveling clothes in the process. "Oh no Laz it's okay, I can do it-"

He levels you with a look before cutting you off "-and I, your husband, am offering to make dinner for my wife, whom I love."

Clicking your tongue against your cheek you simply nod in acquiescence.

The hot spray loosens your tense muscles. Next time you had to fly out any longer than 2 hours you were definitely going to take up your husband’s suggestion to fly first class. He'd offered you the upgrade when you first planned your trip, but you'd simply shrugged and said it wasn't necessary, that you'd rather him spend the money on treating you to a nice date when you got home instead. Boy how your body hated you for that now...

You wash away the day of traveling and quickly follow with your usual skin care routine after. The steamy room keeps you warm under your fluffy towel, but all you want is to throw on one of his old t-shirts and slide under the silk sheets of your shared bed.

Opening the door you spot a plate of grilled cheese waiting for you on the bed. You waste no time making yourself comfortable on the end of the bed and digging in to the crispy, gooey, buttery sandwich. Moaning around the bite you shovel as much as you can fit into your gullet the second go. Laszlo isn't here as you finish the first sandwich.

Three bites into the second grilled cheese he enters the room. Holding your hand to cover your mouth you mumble out "thank you." His answer is a kiss to your head. You swallow. "You know I'll never figure out how you learned to make the perfect grilled cheese?" You tear off a chunk to pop in his mouth as he stands before you.

"A secret I'll never tell," he winks, leaving you to go change for bed.

You grin around a mouthful. "Well as long as you keep making them for me I'll be perfectly content to never know."

Laszlo exits the closet in his dark robe, the ties undone and the glorious expanse of his chest and abdomen on display for your wandering eyes. Gaze trailing along the line of chest hair from top to bottom you stop in your tracks when you reach his shorts. A pair of obnoxiously plaid boxer briefs hug his hips and thighs. What really gets your attention as he walks past you? What sticks out between his legs.

For fucks sake you had to be imagining things.

You blink quickly. You knew Laszlo was gifted, so to speak. He was the biggest you'd ever been with by far. There were no complaints from you; above average size and he knew how to use it? A+, top of the class. But the absolutely massive bulge that protrudes from his crotch currently?

It's obscene.

There's no way you're seeing clearly! Maybe you just forgot what his dick looks like? How long were you away for? Did he take something? Are you jetlagged? Is it possible to forget the size of your husband’s penis if you go too long without seeing it? Your mind races as it tries to piece together what you think you just saw.

You must be making quite the face, as the next thing you know Laszlo is looking down at you with concern. "- are you alright?" He waves his fingers in front of your slackjawed face.

Starting blankly at him for a second you finally reply with an extremely eloquent "... what?"

"You don't look well, are you alright?"

Oh. Right.

"Uh…." You gather your wits, looking back at his boxers as he stands before you. Not only are they plaid, but right on said crotch is a picture of mistletoe - if you weren't in such a state of confusion you would've found the pun to be funny. "What the fuck are you wearing and why is your dick so big?!" blurts out before you can stop yourself. Your hand claps over your mouth.

You both immediately share a look; eyebrows to your hairline as if to say 'wow I can't believe what you just said'. With a blink he looks down at himself and proceeds to give a soft "oh".

"I'm so sorry I don't... uh…" your voice gives out on its feeble explanation. What a thing to say to your husband, questioning the size of his manhood, you lament at your awkwardness. Then it clicks. You've seen those before, several months ago. "Wait wait wait…. are those the-" your words are cut by a small giggle "- are those the gag gift I got you for Christmas last year with the little-?" you hold your hand up to mimic a cupping motion.

You had seen the underwear on Facebook and thought the whole concept was some sort of joke; boxer briefs with a built in "hammock" that held everything up like a "push-up bra for your jingle balls" the ad proclaimed. The whole thing was too hilarious, so naturally you bought a pair for your husband as a joke knowing he would never wear them. And so to the back of the closet they went, until now that is.

"Ah….well," he clears his throat. His left hand comes to scratch along his bearded jaw. Laszlo meets your eyes finally, his cheeks redder than a tomato; "I fell behind on laundry while you were away."

You bite your lip to stifle the smile threatening to break your face. "So instead of doing laundry you dug those out? Laz oh my god! They have mistletoe right on your-"

"- Yes I know," he finishes for you. "If I recall it was you that bought them to begin with."

"Yeah but I just wanted to see you blush, I didn't think you'd actually wear them ever!" Pulling him closer you stand him between your legs from where you sit. The material is soft. With a finger you push just under the waistband, pulling back and letting it snap against his hip. He gives a soft grunt.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

You raise a single eyebrow at him. "How do they feel? You know," you gesture downward with your chin.

He licks his lips briefly. "To be honest," he pauses, "they are some of the most comfortable bottoms I've ever worn," he finishes quietly, as if reluctant to admit how much he likes them.

Humming in amused satisfaction you add "and you look fantastic in them, it really brings out-" you wave your open palm over the general area between his hips before concluding with "-the color of your eyes." The smirk is full force as you watch him cringe at your tease. "What more could a girl want? But Jesus you're huge."

Laszlo scoffs, his face burning an even darker shade of red. A hint of a smile tugs at his lips, despite him trying to remain stoic at your compliments. "I do believe it's time for bed," he deflects and pulls away from you, effectively ending your ribbing. Shedding the robe he situates himself under the covers and gives you an expectant look.

"All I'm saying is I'm a very lucky woman." You join him in bed.

The two of you lay curled into one another in a peaceful quiet for several minutes. The calm of the dark bedroom and the exhaustion of your week has finally caught up with you. In the first pulls of sleep you whisper out "Hey Laz?"

"Yes my dear?"

Not one to let go of your mischievousness so easily, you say "if you like them so much I can always get you some more." You yawn. "But maybe not ones with mistletoe on the crotch. That's for my eyes only."

Click here to read part 2- Clean Laundry

___

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams @that-one-fandom-kid @hb8301 @fandom-princess-forevermore @foggycandywitch @creme-bruhlee @andy-rocks @nonamec0s @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @uncomfortablebagel @rachelicouss @wisia02 

Tag list 

[hereticpriest]

Masterlist

MDNI

Series

Mercy

Rating: Explicit 18+

Relationship: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

To begin with, some warnings about this story: A/B/O Dynamics, Female Alpha, Male Omega, Some chapters may involve messing with the whole 'alphas are always dom and omegas are always sub' because I think nuance exists even in A/B/O dynamics, Fucking with the timeline (this is a blend of Canon, Legends, and original lore), Minimal use of Y/N (Explained in the first chapter), Reader is an alien species of my own creation and thus has a physical description, Familial bonds explored heavily, Clone rights explored heavily, Violence is more graphic than canon-typical however any graphic descriptions will be noted, AFAB reader, Not beta-read so I apologize for any mistakes.

Read on AO3

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Nine Point Five - Part Ten -

Miniseries

The Typist - Laszlo Kreizler and his Bitey Wife

Bite - Laszlo Kreizler x reader ft odaxelagnia

Chew - Laszlo Kreizler x reader ft odaxelagnia, prequel to Bite

Swallow - Laszlo Kreizler x reader ft odaxelagnia, prequel to Bite and sequel to Chew

Gulp - Laszlo Kreizler x reader ft lactation and mommy kink, sequel to Swallow

Alpha Mine - Laszlo Kreizler x reader ft Omegaverse, AU to The Typist series

Bokeh - Niki Lauda and his Photographer Wife (Mouse)

Muse - Niki Lauda x photographer!reader ft soft femdom and bondage and breeding

What Happens in Ibiza - Niki Lauda x photographer!reader x James Hunt ft threesomes, double penetration and anal

Life and Death - Niki Lauda x photograhper!reader x James Hunt ft heavy hurt/comfort and mild petplay

Brûlée - Dirk Brûlée and his Single Mama

Sriracha - Dirk Brûlée x single mom!reader ft sex toys/sybian

Red Carpet - Dirk Brûlée x single mom!reader ft breeding

Victory - Helmut Zemo and his Super Soldier

Pyrrhic - Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader ft 14k of HYDRA being the worst and Helmut Zemo being a consent king

Clutch - Helmut Zemo x Reader ft daddy kink, Hydra hunting and impact play

Oneshots

The Bath - Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader ft cockwarming

Ctrl and Power - Ernst Schmidt x Reader ft rough sex and secret relationships

Ganache - Tony Balerdi x Original Male Character ft food play and body worship

Requests and Prompts

Reader likes to come up behind Zemo and kiss or bite him

Roman Sionis fucking reader in his club and being a show off about it (and also he's a total switch)

Roman Sionis making female reader cockwarm him during a gang meeting

Obi-Wan Kenobi noticing female reader's tattoos after sex and pausing to enjoy them

[echoe-l]

🍷 🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

[nev3rfound]

in another lifetime : part three - h.z / l.k

having been settled into a new way of life, your friends back home have yet to give up. but it's becoming more clear with the passing days that time is starting to run out and their options are becoming slim. (3.4k)

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests open!

requested: YES! thank you for the love and support on my series i am adoring it so far :) warnings: elements of tfatws series and the alienist, mentions of abuse, blood and disjointed info from doctor strange (this is all sort of an au so be mindful thank you!)

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX

Tugging on the hem of your bodice, Laszlo could sense your annoyance without having to even turn his head.

"Something the matter, Y/n?" He speaks up, happily reading at his desk whilst you're standing in the mirror with one of the maids at the institution.

"It's not very comfortable," You admit with a gasp for breath, having only just managed to make your way into Laszlo's office without assistance. "I already miss my pants."

Smiling into his book, Laszlo looks up and pauses at the sight before him.

Now clad in a deep navy dress and your hair pinned back, you look like the ladies he's used to passing in the streets. Yet, there's the distinct disdain for the attire in your expression, and curious gaze that easily sets you apart.

"Well, I think you look-" Laszlo quietly starts, but is interrupted by John and Sara entering the office whilst the maid slips out.

"Good God, Y/n. I never thought I'd see the day!" John exclaims, watching in amusement as you bite your tongue, knowing you could easily take him down if necessary.

"Don't be a tease, John." Sara hushes him, smiling at you before walking with ease to one of the plush seats within Laszlo's office.

Unable to stop yourself from inhaling deeply and slowly exhaling, you take a step forward. "I had to stop borrowing men's shirts at some point, John. And it's not like I'm allowed to simply wander naked now is it?" You remark, feeling pride wash over you at the sight of John's cheeks burning red, and Laszlo's too which Sara notices, but refrains from commenting on.

"I guess not." John mutters.

"I think you look lovely, Y/n." Sara comments. "And I can assure you, it gets easier to walk around in with some practice."

Silently thanking her, Laszlo rises to his feet and approaches the three of you.

"Have you found anything new about the missing child?" Laszlo enquires, and the pit in your stomach returns at the thought.

Ever since you arrived, you quickly found yourself working alongside Laszlo and his disjointed team in search of a man killing boy whores. Some of whom have already turned up dead with injuries that taunt you in your sleep.

"We do, I spoke earlier with Theodore regarding the newest victim. The body is currently in the morgue ready for the Issacsons examination." Sara explains, unphased by the gruesome matters at the discussion.

"Very well," Laszlo remarks, now leaning against the front of his desk before looking up at the three of you. "we better meet with Marcus and Lucius, see if their examinations will find anything substantial."

*

Sam was looking around Sarah's house, knowing Bucky was loitering around somewhere.

Instead of calling his name, Sam peers into the living room to see Bucky perched on the edge of the sofa with his phone in hand. "You okay, Bucky?" Sam asks, leaning against the door frame.

Bucky keeps his phone tilted out of view, the screen too dark for Sam to see what it displays. "Yeah," Bucky breathes out, turning his head to look at the only friend he's got left. "I, I kept thinking about what Zemo said."

Pushing himself from the door frame, Sam enters the room with his hands in his pockets. "You shouldn't have listened to Zemo." Sam remarks.

"I know." Bucky retorts, coldly glancing up to Sam before averting his gaze back to his phone, scrolling through something. "But I couldn't help myself, Sam. I, I had to know for myself that she's doing okay." Bucky can feel his voice crack at the end of his sentence. Knowing you're okay is all he ever wanted.

"What did Zemo say to you, when you last saw him?" Sam can't help himself after almost a week of silence from Bucky, only for him to turn up unexpectedly offering a helping hand. "Did he go easily?"

"I wouldn't know." Bucky admits. "He, he never turned up."

"What?" Sam bluntly asks. "Zemo wasn't at the memorial?" He watches Bucky shake his head. "He could be anywhere, doing anything."

"Yeah." Bucky agrees. "He gets the freedom he wanted after all."

"At the price of us losing Y/n." Sam reminds Bucky sharply.

Holding his phone out toward Sam, but sighs. "Look at this." Bucky mutters, waiting for Sam to take his phone.

"What is it?" Sam asks, raising a brow at the sight of a woman in an old dress with some man. "Bucky what have you been looking up? I thought you weren't authorised use of the internet?" Sam jokes, only for Bucky to roll his eyes and walk over to stand beside Sam.

"No, not that one." Bucky huffs, sliding his finger across the screen to the next photo that almost brings tears to his eyes.

Both men fall silent at the sight of the photo.

"Is that really?" Sam trails off, unable to finish his question as Bucky nods. "Someone really forced her into a dress, huh?" He jokes, laughing lightly with Bucky briefly joining in before sniffing quietly to himself.

"She looks happy, doesn't she?" Bucky sadly states.

Scrolling to the next photo, Sam groans at the sight of you stood beside Zemo's doppelganger. "How did she fall for the original Zemo? It, it makes no sense." Sam protests, looking at you standing with your hand on his shoulder with a curious smile adorned on your face.

"Because he isn't Zemo." Bucky comments. "Whoever this Kreizler is, he must've been something special for Y/n to fall for him."

"Or him to fall for Y/n. A deadly move." Sam can't help himself, knowing if you were here you'd agree after your last relationship went downhill. At least, the last relationship he knew of before the blip.

Bucky slides to the next photo, revealing you with the blonde woman and another man. The four of you smiling brightly together, a smile that Sam knows neither he nor Bucky have seen in a long time.

"Maybe this was meant to happen." Bucky thinks aloud. "I, I want her back of course, but maybe this is Y/n's happy ending."

Sam shakes his head, taking Bucky's phone and locks it. "It's hardly a happy ending if she dies there, Bucky." Sam shuts Bucky down harshly. "Do you really think the idea of a happy ending is her dying a painful death without us there?"

Allowing his words to hover in Bucky's mind, Sam heads back out of the house and toward the dockyard knowing there's still more work to be done.

"He has a point." Bucky doesn't even react at the sound of the Sokovian in the doorway. Of course, he followed Bucky.

"You followed me here?" Bucky questions, keeping his back turned to Zemo who happily wanders inside, humming at the quaint decor of Sarah's home.

"Not exactly," Zemo shrugs a shoulder, waiting to see the former soldier scowl toward him. "I wanted to thank you, for letting me go."

"I didn't let you go. You never turned up." Bucky reminds the Baron. "Why are you here, Zemo?" A heavy sigh leaves Bucky's lips before he turns on his heels, facing Zemo yet again.

Pausing for a moment, Zemo's focus shifts to the artwork on the refrigerator. Drawings and paintings, clearly done by a child with 'Mom' scribbled across the bottom. Sucking in a breath, Zemo could still hear his son's laughter and feel his wife's embrace.

"Since I left you and Sam in Riga, I went ahead and did more research." Stepping backwards, Zemo exits the house, only to emerge with a struggling figure in his grip.

Tensing at the sight, Bucky watches Zemo's grip on the girl loosen as he drops her to the ground in the space between them.

"Who is this?" Bucky asks flatly.

With a deep breath, the girl struggles to her knees and looks up at Bucky with a sickening smirk despite her split lip. "I'm the person who took your friend away." She chuckles.

"But she will bring her back." Zemo states through gritted teeth. "Isn't that right, Emilie?"

"Even now with the girl in front of him, Zemo can see the pain that crossed your face when the girl first emerged from the shadows. A look of regret, sorrow and deep sympathy.

"You really have no idea what you're dealing with, do you?" Emilie remarks, looking up between the pair. "If Karli knows where I am-"

"Then what, Emilie?" Zemo steps forward, his expression remaining stoic and eyes hard.

Another smile begins to tug on Emilie's lips as she averts her attention to Bucky. "Wherever Y/n is, she's stuck there." Emilie begins to explain, carefully watching Bucky's shoulders loosen at the mention of your name.

"Describe 'stuck.'" Bucky asks, burying his hands into his pockets whilst the girl huffs.

"Well, to put it simply for you to understand, when we create portals we can always reopen them. We can go back and revisit these places, but for some reason, I can't reopen wherever Y/n has ended up." Emilie shrugs about the matter.

"No, but Strange said you locked it." Bucky reasons, piecing together the conversation they had with Strange less than a week ago. "And you could unlock it and get Y/n back."

Zemo's gaze switches from Bucky back to the girl. "I, I don't know what to say." Her voice remains monotone as her eyes are glued to the floor. Even with her hair falling into her face, Bucky can see straight through to that sickening smile.

Within seconds, Zemo's hand is tightly gripping the girl's hair and listens to her wince at the action. "You're going to tell us the truth, Emilie." Zemo spits, ignoring Bucky calling his name to release the girl. "You're going to tell us exactly how to get Y/n back or you'll go back to Karli with a bullet in your head." He mutters the last part, ignoring her resistance in his hold.

"Zemo." Bucky barks and with a sharp look, Zemo drops the girl to the ground again.

Bucky kneels down in front of the girl as she straightens herself up, hiding the tears threatening to fall in her eyes. "You don't know how to get her back, do you?" Bucky sadly whispers, his eyes dropping at the sight of her nodding.

"Y/n was my friend once too," Emilie starts, remaining perfectly still in her spot, focusing on Bucky. "but when the blip happened, everyone was taking sides and she chose to hide instead of fight."

"She fought for most of her life." Bucky reasons, remembering being by your side in almost every mission with Sam and Steve. "And the one time she didn't, you punished her by removing her abilities."

"I didn't do that, I could never." Emilie almost yells, her eyes wide with tears now cascading down her cheeks. "I pleaded for them to stop, not to hurt her but they ignored me." The girl wipes her face forcefully before composing herself. "We all have our struggles, we all get angry and make mistakes but this is one I cannot undo."

"How can we get her back then if you cannot?" Zemo asks calmly, resting his hands in his pockets.

A heavy sigh sounds from the girl. "I, I don't know."

*

Wandering into the empty office, your eyes fall upon the dust-coated piano and an absent bench tucked out of sight.

A light tune falls from your lips as you hum under your breath, skimming your fingers along the lid before lifting it up, revealing the pristine keys dying to be played.

Outside the room, voices pass by, but no one enters the office whilst the door remains ajar.

Remaining silent, your index finger brushes along one of the keys and sound erupts into the room, bouncing off the dark walls.

With a quick glance, you check that no one is peering in as it was late and most of the children would be fast asleep by now. Humming once more, you pull the bench out from beneath the piano and take a seat. Shuffling with the layers of fabric that makes up your skirt, you eventually find some comfort.

"Okay," You mutter to yourself, closing your eyes you picture a sheet of music that you once knew and within seconds your fingers glide across the keys, filling the room with a sweet tune.

Having heard the sound of music echoing in the corridors, Laszlo's thoughts about their discoveries from earlier passed by. Simply following the melodic sound, he found himself poking his head around his own office door.

As you remain lost in your own memories, Laszlo creeps into the office. He pauses at the sound of you sniffing quietly, shortly followed by a light sob.

Removing your fingers from the piano, you bring them to your face, wiping away the treacherous tears that fall.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Laszlo calls out, causing you to jump and turn to face him. "but I couldn't help but hear someone playing."

"Yeah, sorry I," You stumble over your words as Laszlo hesitantly approaches you, almost leaning against the piano. "curiosity killed the cat." An uneasy laugh leaves your lips as the last of your tears fall, and your hands fall into your lap.

"But satisfaction brought it back. Ben Johnson." Laszlo remarks with a hint of a smile, looking down on you. "Please, I enjoy hearing the piano being played, it has been a long time since I've heard it." He closes his eyes momentarily, and whilst off guard your eyes wander to his frail arm.

"Did you play?" You ask softly. "I meant, did you play before your accident?"

Silence falls between you both for a moment, one that holds too much tension for your own personal liking. "Yes," Laszlo finally answers. "did Sara tell you what happened to me?"

"No," You quickly respond. "no one has told me anything, I just assumed-"

"Well, I think it's best if one never makes assumptions regarding others." Laszlo snaps suddenly, catching you by surprise. Yet, rather than lowering your head in shame, you rise to your feet.

"I disagree," You counter. "when I arrived here, various assumptions were made about me. I heard those people, strangers tell me I should be locked up, that I was a freak for wearing a man's clothing and speaking out of term should result in punishment." You explain, expecting him to scoff like Steve once did, but Laszlo doesn't.

Instead, he simply listens.

"I've lost countless homes over my life, fought in more battles than you could imagine." Tugging at the sleeves on your dress, you force the fabric to tear revealing the scars on your forearms.

The faint lines curl around your arms like poison ivy; serving as a reminder of who you betrayed when you were weak and alone in a half-empty world. "And I have battle scars too, Laszlo. We've all been hurt in life, but regardless of the meaning, assumptions will be made. And don't think for a second you're excused from such because you're an alienist." You finish with a huff, unaware of the lack of breath in your lungs until you tear your eyes from his.

A curt nod follows before Laszlo speaks up. "My father," Laszlo quietly starts, resting his stick against the piano as he shrugs off his jacket with some difficulty. "he was not a kind man that everyone perceived him to be behind closed doors."

Even with his shirt remaining on, you can see through the lightweight cotton shirt the outline of his frail arm.

"He smashed my arm during one of our fights, resulting in a fracture that never healed." He continues to explain, speaking of the matter as if it were not his story. "I once played, yes. But I can barely lift my arm toward the keys."

"I see," You comment before sitting back down in front of the piano. However, this time you perch on one side, patting the space beside you. "come sit, Laszlo."

Internally, Laszlo can feel himself conflicting over whether to sit with you knowing it could be viewed improper. You were a colleague, a potential friend and nothing more. Then again, he couldn't ignore the strange tie he felt to you whenever you were around.

Slowly, Laszlo sits down next to you, his shoulder brushing against yours. You'd never been so close to the alienist to hear his shaky breaths and the way he rapidly blinks those long eyelashes, hiding his deep brown eyes.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you," The words leave your lips whilst your fingers glide across the keys. "no one child deserves that from family." You mutter, filling the room with a soft melody.

"I too apologise," Laszlo speaks up, his eyes wandering from the graceful movements of your fingers across the piano to the sorrowful look almost permanently in your gaze. Even when you think you're hiding that look, Laszlo can always see it. "for whoever conflicted this upon you."

A small laugh leaves your lips and you shake your head at the thought. "Well, they all got their comeuppance in the end." You tell him with a hunt of a smile after hearing from Strange once he returned from the blip with a mixture of good and bad news.

"May I ask you something, Y/n?" Laszlo's tongue brushes over his lips as his focus remains on your face, noticing your smile falter ever so slightly.

Pausing momentarily, you nod in response.

"Do I remind you of someone?" He questions, and with that hanging in the air, your hands rest on the keys without pressure. "Whenever I catch your gaze, there's something about you, a sense of longing for someone you once knew. Your movements become shaky or you tend to disassociate for a split second, but I've noticed it frequently of late." Laszlo explains quietly, feeling confidence surge through his voice despite his indefinite uncertainty.

"Yes." You answer. "There was someone I once knew, sometimes I see a bit of him in you." Your response wasn't entirely true, because nothing about Laszlo resembled Zemo despite his physical appearance. Laszlo is a good man, making a difference in the world, unlike Zemo who wished to tear yours apart.

"Were they a friend?" He can't help but enquire deeper, watching you shake your head. "A former lover, perhaps?" He tiptoes around the words, only to see your smile return causing his heart to sink.

"Oh no," You laugh at the absurdity of the thought, unaware of the relief flooding Laszlo's mind. "he was more of a homewrecker." Shrugging it off, Laszlo hums in response not fully aware of the term.

"Would you, would you play something for me, Y/n?" Laszlo softly asks.

"What would you like me to play?"

Laszlo glances over at his desk and walks over, returning with a sheet of music that he kept hidden in one of his drawers.

"Symphony No. 40?" Reading over the beginning of the sheet music you recompose yourself and start playing.

Beside you, Laszlo closes his eyes and listens in contentment.

"Thank you," You whisper, noticing how calm Laszlo looks for once. His thoughts were absent of the case, his prior anger toward Sara and learning to open up. "for all of this, I, I really appreciate everything."

Opening his eyes, Laszlo lifts his left hand he lowers it on top of yours, feeling the movement in your metacarpal bones over the keys with such ease and grace.

"No, thank you." Laszlo says, taking your hand in his causing you to pause playing and turn your body toward his. "For allowing me to help you, and in turn helping me see a new perspective of living." He chuckles, feeling you squeeze his hand. "I fear that I don't wish for you to go, and for once I would like to be selfish."

Looking into Laszlo's eyes, your smile only grows. "For the first time, I," Pausing your body begins to burn with fire coursing through your veins. "I want to be selfish." You manage to tell him with tears forming in your eyes, unaware of the scars covering your arms begin to glow.

"Then perhaps we will be selfish together, Y/n?" Laszlo whispers, glancing from your eyes to your lips.

Ignoring the searing pain in your body, you simply nod and lean closer, whispering the one response Laszlo needs to hear before he kisses you softly, the fire burning through your body subsiding and your internal glow fading.

If only you both knew the consequences that were to follow from that decision and unknowingly have sealed your fate.

PART FOUR

IALT SERIES TAGLIST: (if you would like to be tagged let me know!) @zemosbaroness @fillechatoyante @country-cowgirl-101 @kpopnena @telesynths @thebookisbtr @mybisexualheartbeatsforzemo @ajeff855 @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fangirl-inthe-us

[violetwanderer]

Omg this is so sexy and so sweet and I love how soft Laszlo is in it 😍

Biology Lessons

Alpha!Modern!Laszlo Kreizler x Omega!Fem!Reader

My Masterlist

A/N: I was curious about the biology of A/B/O and ended up reading a lot of Wikipedia pages, 3000 words and a small Alpha Laszlo obsession later here we are

WARNINGS: 18+ content, unprotected smut, A/B/O dynamics, reader has female anatomy but no gender specific pronouns have been used (if there have been please let me know)

You and Laszlo had been together for two years. During this time you had been intimate on plenty of occasions, however you’d always ignored your secondary sex. When together, you were just two lovers, not an Alpha and Omega. You had limited experience with dealing with your biology and Laszlo had respected your decision to stay on your suppressants. He, in turn, had begun taking some of the weaker forms of suppressants. The kind that reduced his rut to a few days that he spent at John’s house. This situation worked well, until you reached the point where you changed your mind and wanted to come off your suppressants. You trusted Laszlo to help you through it and he was more than eager to take care of you.

“Have you ever had a heat?” Laszlo asks you. The two of you are sitting in his downstairs office at his house. The fire crackles in the hearth, casting a glow over Laszlo’s face as he watches you. Your eyes wander as you think about it.

“Once or twice when I first presented. But I started on suppressants pretty young.” He frowns a little, and you know his medical side disapproves. “We never learnt much about it in school.” You explain, trying to justify your decision. He nods immediately,

“Of course. The education system is curated for the success of Alphas. That, and sex education regarding Omegas is still often considered taboo.” He places a hand on your knee, “That’s not your fault, drágám.” You nod, keeping your focus on the hem of the robe you’re wearing - Laszlo’s bathrobe. “Would you like me to explain it to you?” Your face warms at the thought, and you shake your head.

“You don’t have to.”

“No, but I’d like to. I think you deserve to know about yourself.” You give him a small nod. He smiles kindly at you and beckons you closer. When you approach him, he pulls you into his lap. “What would you like to know?” He asks you. You shrug slightly, fiddling with your fingers.

“I don’t know.” You admit quietly. He hums in thought, before asking you,

“How would you describe my scent?” You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck as you inhale his scent. He smiles softly, his hand resting at the back of your neck, knowing that his scent will take the edge off your nerves. Your eyes flutter open as a small smile tugs at your lips.

“It’s like the citrus soap from my grandmother’s house, and the smell of new books, and your office, and like home.” You tell him and he squeezes the back of your neck affectionately.

“You smell like a field of fresh flowers, clean linen, and warm sugared tea. Soft and sweet, and safe.” He admits. You smile up at him as you lean your temple against his shoulder. He taps your nose gently with the tip of his finger. “The scent receptors in your nose pick up my scent and your body’s response depends on how appealing you find it.”

“Very appealing.” You admit against his neck and he hums affectionately.

“This is what helps you decide on my suitability as a mate. As well as other factors such as aesthetics, personality, and overall attraction.”

“That, and you’re one of the kindest, most loving men I’ve ever met.” He looks down, never used to the praise you always give him. His smile widens as he leans in to kiss your cheek.

“Enough flattery from you. It’s time for our lesson.” He tightens his hold on you as you smile at him, resting his weaker hand on your thigh. “Heat cycles occur once every season, so usually four in a year. The heat itself lasts between five and ten days, but that depends on the person.” His thumb skims across the skin of your bare legs lightly. “While Omegas can be sexually active outside of their heat, it is much more pleasurable during their cycle.” You’ve always loved listening to him talk, but hearing him explain all this to you has your body melting against his as your eyes remain fixed on his lips as he speaks. “Did you know that, as your mate, I may be able to trigger your heat?” You blink at him in surprise. You didn’t know that. “It isn’t always possible, but would you like me to try?” He asks, noticing your interest. You nod cautiously, and he takes your hands as he guides you off his lap, before pulling you towards the centre of his office. He sits you down on his desk with your legs parted, and he stands between them. He places his warm hands on your thighs, and nuzzles his nose against your neck. “You know where your scent glands are, yes?” You nod. You tap your finger against the ones on each side of your throat, then bare your wrists to him to show him the areas. You frown before mentioning,

“There’s another pair, I think, but I don’t know where they are.” He smiles proudly at you,

“Correct. There is one here, and here.” He tells you, trailing his fingers along each of your thighs. “They’re a little different from your other ones, which is why most people forget about them.” He squeezes your thighs tenderly as he continues his explanation. “Their main purpose is so that when you go into heat your slick will smell of your Alpha, and tell everyone that you’re taken.” You swallow the whine in your throat, but he knows the effect he’s having on you already. “How long have you been off your suppressants?” He asks you. He knows the answer of course, but he wants to see if your mind is still functioning.

“Around two weeks.” He nods,

“The perfect time to trigger your heat. That is of course if you want to?” You nod hurriedly,

“Please.” He steps closer,

“All I need to do is apply a little pressure here,” the pads of his fingers press against the glands in your thighs. He smiles at the sight of your head falling back, bearing your neck to him. “A little stimulus here.” His tongue moves across the pulse of your throat, sending a shudder down your spine. “And for you to take a nice deep breath.” You do as he says, your body responding instantly to his pheromones. He smells the change in your scent and smiles. “There you go, good Omega.” He coos. You whine at the warmth spreading slowly through your body as you cling to your Alpha. “You should be feeling rather warm now.” You nod your head a few times in agreement. He hums, “And I can smell your slick already.” He nuzzles his lips against your neck, and you whine for him. “By triggering your heat, we’ve skipped the pre-heat nesting stage. But don’t worry Omega, I’ve prepared the bed for you, and you can fix it up just how you like it tomorrow.” You’re beginning to pant and a shimmer of sweat is coating your skin as your fingers tug at his clothing. His words certainly aren’t helping either. He cups your face. “But right now, I think my Omega needs my knot, yes?” You nod hurriedly,

“Alpha, please.” You loop your arms around his neck, wrapping your legs around his torso, and he hooks his hands underneath your thighs. He lifts you from his desk and takes you up to the bed. When you see the bed set up, a large number of pillows at one end, blankets bunched up the sides, and the whole place smells of Laszlo’s cologne. “Laszlo.” You whisper softly, as the sight pulls on your heartstrings.

“I wanted everything to be perfect.” He admits, leaning in to kiss you.

“You’re here, it couldn’t be more perfect.” You tell him through the kiss. You can feel his grin as his mouth moves against yours, the back of your legs meeting the bed, and he guides you down carefully. He pulls at the belt of the bathrobe, letting it fall open and taking a moment to admire you. He pulls away to remove his clothes, and you whimper at the lack of contact. You take this moment as an opportunity to slip the robe from your body, abandoning it on the floor. You turn onto your stomach, hands smoothing up the bedsheets to rest above your head. Hips shifting needily, you arch your back, your knees digging into the mattress. Once he’s undressed, Laszlo looks back at you and his jaw nearly drops, though he’s quick to recover.

“Such a pretty picture, my beautiful Omega, already presenting for me.” He settles between your open thighs, leaning his body over yours. You rut your hips back against his, desperate for any sort of friction. You feel his smirk as his mouth moves across your shoulder. His hand descends between your thighs, fingers pressing against your warm folds. “And you’re so wet already, drágám.” He slips his finger deep into you, drawing a needy gasp from your lips.

“Laszlo, Alpha, please.”

“More?”

“Yes, yes please.” He removes his finger, leaving you whining, your hips chasing him. His hands curl around your waist, squeezing you gently as he tuts.

“Patience Omega.” But you don’t have to wait long, as he lines himself up to your entrance. In one fluid motion he’s filled you up, your eyes squeezed shut and your back arching against the mattress. “Such a perfect fit.” He moans against your neck, his accent getting thicker as you take in every inch of him. He kisses your shoulder delicately.

“Tell me when I can move, édesem.” You take a few gasping breaths, trying to become accustomed to the haze filling your mind. He notices your struggle. “Relax Omega. Let me take care of you.” A tiny whine catches in your throat, then you’re nodding.

“Please, Alpha.” His forehead presses between your shoulder blades as he moves in and out of you. Every single one of your moans and gasps has him nearing the edge of his restraint. Whilst Laszlo wants to focus on you, his need is slowly growing and he wants to ensure you want this.

“Drágám, darling Omega,” he rasps out. “I don’t think I can hold back for much longer.”

“Don’t, please. Don’t hold back.” That’s all it takes for his pace to increase. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs as he pushes you closer. You press your forehead hard against the plush of the mattress as you feel his knot pushing against your entrance. You whine, desperate for him to fill you completely. Growling against the skin of your back, nails gripping onto your hips, he drives his hips harder against yours. You don’t feel the thin red lines trailing down your thighs as you clench around him. “Are you ready for my knot, Omega? I know you’re close.” You can’t reply. Your mind is completely lost to the feeling of your Alpha taking you to pieces. “I need you to come, so my knot can stuff you full.” As soon as he knows you’re about to come he pushes his knot into you. Your eyes roll back, and you come hard with a broken cry. Only a moment later Laszlo comes as well, his lips grazing down your spine as he does. His knot swells, ensuring none of your slick escapes. Your body goes slack as the two of you attempt to catch your breath. You feel Laszlo’s breathing tickle the skin of your back as it slowly returns to normal. He shifts his weight slightly. “This may feel a little odd.” He warns you. He takes hold of your leg and moves it to the other side of him, effectively spinning you around and lying you down with your back to the mattress. You gasp a little at the change in position, his knot still holding deep inside you. “Now this is better.” He remarks, leaning down to kiss your lips. He takes your hands in his own, letting them run down your spent body. “Can you feel how full you are?” He pushes your hands over your abdomen, your fingers skimming over the bulge caused by his knot. “You did so well Omega, letting me fill you up like this.” He leans forward, nuzzling against your neck. “Such a brave Omega.” He coos. His praises and gentle touches soon have you coming back to your senses. Laszlo notices when the haze has cleared from your eyes, and gives you a soft smile.

“Hi.” You whisper.

“Hello.” The two of you stay in each other’s arms for a while, simply enjoying the close proximity to one another. You rub your fingers over his chest, before reaching up to curl them into the hair at the back of his neck.

“Laszlo,” you say softly, tilting your head back to bear your neck to him. “Can I have your mark?” He seems a little taken aback by your request.

“You- you want…”

“To be yours.” You watch his eyes darken slightly, and he claims your lips again. When he pulls away you’re breathless again.

“You’re sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” You tell him. “That is, of course, if you want me.”

“Édesem, you are my world.” You both share a tender smile. He cradles the side of your face before tilting your head back. He nuzzles his lips gently against your throat. “With your current level of endorphins you shouldn’t feel too much pain…”

“I love you.” You interrupt him, your smile wide.

“I love you too, drágám.” He presses a soft kiss to the mating gland at your throat, before sinking his teeth down. You clench your teeth, nails digging into the sheets at the sharp sting of your skin breaking. Then, a wave of pleasure rolls through you as your bond snaps into place. You feel Laszlo lapping at the small wound. “All good?” He asks you. You nod with a smile.

“Though, if you bring up that saliva is a natural healing agent I will kick you out of bed.” He chuckles.

“Before I get my own mark. How cruel.” You frown at him.

“What?”

“Alphas also have a mating gland.” You nod, your frown still present,

“I didn’t think- I’ve never seen-“

“Very few Alphas feel the need to wear their mate’s mark. However, I want the world to know I’m yours.” He smiles, watching the primal urge shimmer in your eyes, though he senses your lingering hesitance. “It won’t hurt me, drágám.” Your eyes flicker down to his neck, and he leans closer. “Right here.” He guides you to the spot against his throat. You cup his face carefully, taking a moment to nuzzle against his neck, breathing in his scent. “Don’t be scared Omega. Take what’s yours.” You sink your teeth into his throat, sucking gently at the break of his skin. You feel him shudder against you as your bond strengthens. You trace your tongue carefully along the wound. He leans down to kiss you again, your first kiss as a mated couple. You share a few more slow, loving kisses before Laszlo pulls away. He reaches down towards the bottom of the bed, pulling out a towel and lying it beneath your hips. You frown lightly at him. “Can’t have our nest getting dirty, can we?” Your face morphs into an affectionate smile. Your mate really does think of everything. You whimper when he pulls out, but he rubs your thighs reassuringly and presses kisses over your face. You giggle softly and he beams at you. He ensures the majority of the mess is soaked up by the towel before discarding it. He presses a kiss to your temple, “I’ll be right back Omega.” He’s gone for under thirty seconds, but you both feel the pull of your bond. When it’s fresh like this you can’t be parted for long. He returns with some wet wipes, and begins to clean the two of you up. The coolness soothes you, pushing the heat symptoms even further away. You smile softly at Laszlo and he shares your smile as the two of you spend a moment admiring one another. He throws the wipes away and settles down by your side. You nuzzle against him, purring contentedly. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Get some sleep drágám.”

•*•*•*•

Early the next morning, Laszlo is stirred from his sleep by some sort of movement at his side. The bedroom is still in semi-darkness, the sun hasn’t quite risen into the sky yet, but there’s enough light to see by. The sight before him warms his heart. You’re adjusting a pillow beside you, tucking it under the quilt to secure the wall of your nest. You have one of his shirts tucked under your arm, and nuzzle into one of the pillows.

“What are you doing, Omega?” He asks, his voice still thick with sleep. He can feel your blush as you mumble,

“Just getting comfortable.” He chuckles softly, pulling himself closer to you. You immediately melt into his arms, your body lying flush against his chest. He trails a hand down your spine, and despite your shiver, he can feel your body heat increasing.

“Ready to go again?” He suggests. You pout, the tiredness behind your eyes creeping up on you despite the slick gathering between your thighs.

“M’ tired.” You mumble against his chest.

“I know you are.” He coos, guiding your hips towards his. “But all you need to do is be a good Omega and keep me warm.” You sigh in relief at the feeling of him filling you, eyes fluttering shut as he continues, his accent thickening. “Yes, that’s all your heat-ridden body’s good for, isn’t it?” He feels you tighten at his words and he groans against your neck. “Don’t worry Omega, I’m going to take such good care of you.”

[lafemmedezemo]

after the accident that left his arm permanently injured, laszlo kreizler never could have guessed the strange and terrible change coming over him… or the horrible things he would do to the ones he loved.

[pannypunkpanda]

Tiny Witch Laszlo (I feel like he’s annoyed I put a hat on his head nfjdkdkdkf) — October 6

[dailybuglefandom]

Laszlo/John

[bruhlsbees]

bloodlust ; 1/2 || vampire!laszlo kreizler x fem!human!reader

summary: after a cut to the hand, you finally accept the truth of who dr. kreizler really is

pairing: vampire!laszlo kreizler x fem!human!reader

warning: dark!laszlo, biting of flesh, blood, minors dni, 18+

a/n: the format might be a little messy as i wrote this in the car on my phone but i hope you enjoy the first part of my vampire!laszlo fic!!!

You tried so desperately to avoid him, not wanting him to catch you in your current state. You rushed from the courtyard and into the institute, going to your quarters, you held onto your own hand, the blood pooling from your palm and dripping through your fingers and onto your dress, soaking into the grey material.

It was all accidental, cutting your hand so deeply. You had been going after one of the children in the courtyard who had decided that a broken piece of glass was his current interest. You didn’t want him to get hurt and you snatched it away from him, cutting yourself in the process. It was a surprise that his little hand didn’t get cut too, but you didn’t stay long to dwell.

Looking back though, you did find it odd how you endured the cut and he didn’t. Digging deeper, you remembered seeing his eyes darken at the sight of all the blood, his tongue running along the bottom to lick his lips. You thought it was just the sight of blood that made him queasy, but soon you’d find out it was something much more sinister.

While managing to avoid more people than expected, you snuck into your room and shut the door, latching the lock behind you before going into your tiny bathroom, holding your hand under the faucet of the sink while you turned the water on, letting the icy water hit your wound to stop the bleeding.

You let out a hiss at the coolness of the water, your hand pulling back briefly to adjust for a moment before returning under the faucet. Even with the harder water pressure, the blood from your hand didn’t seem to stop. It worried you, would you have to seek higher medical attention?

It wasn’t like you didn’t know how to stitch a wound, it was stitching your own wound that troubled you. The feeling of your own pain made you queasy, light-headed. Bending down to look under the sink, you pulled out your small medical kit, opening it up to find some bandage for your palm. Once you found the roll, it didn’t take long for you to bind your hand.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, you made your way to your dresser, pulling out a clean dress to wear instead of your ruined one. You found it difficult to undress and redress yourself with one hand, huffing in frustration as you pulled your nightgown over your head. It was thin, able to see your figure underneath - the pinks of your nipples hardening and poking through the material.

It was getting darker out, meaning that Mrs. Gorenko would be taking the children to bed soon. You could retire to your room for the evening, so perhaps it worked out not being able to properly dress yourself, as you had no reason to.

The sudden knock at the door made you jump, turning and looking towards your locked door before moving towards it, grabbing your robe from the back of your chair and wrapping it around you. “Just a minute!”

You unlatched the deadbolt and twisted the handle, opening the door to see Dr. Kreizler standing outside of your door, a frown on his face.

“Oh, good evening, Doctor. What can I do for you? Please, come in.” You suddenly felt embarrassed, having essentially your boss see you in your nightgown. You wrapped the robe tighter around you, holding the front of it shut with your hand, your cheeks pink, “I do apologize, I ruined my dress not too long ago and and decided to simply retire to bed early this evening.”

Stepping beside you, Dr. Kreizler made his way into your room, standing near your desk that was beside the bathroom. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, or wanting, but for some reason you felt compelled to shut the door after him. When he heard the door click and watched you turn to face him, he caught sight of the bandage around your left hand, pointing to it.

“What’s this?” He questioned, motioning towards your hand. He looked at you for consent, nodding back as you nodded at him before crossing his left arm over him to grab your hand. He flipped it over so the palm was facing up before he sloppily began to untie the bandage.

“Doctor! It’s not yet healed, it’s rather mes-”

But he didn’t care. In fact, Kreizler was blood lusted over the sight. You noticed that his expression faltered into the same one as the boy who had the piece of glass in his hand from earlier. His darker eyes seemed to grow even darker, his mouth falling open, his pink tongue poking out to run over his lips.

You were confused at his expression, unable to point out what his gaze meant. His head dipped down, your hand pulling closer to him, until you felt his tongue run along the cut on your palm, licking the blood that dripped. Your mouth fell open, going to ask him what he was doing, but the only thing that escaped your throat was the gasp when you felt his canines sink into your palm.

They felt sharper than you had expected. Although, you hadn’t ever been bit by a grown man before. You imagined canine teeth were duller, but these felt sharp, like having a pair of scissors nick into your flesh. The initial pain from his bite soothed quickly into a low burning, however there was this pleasure inside of you building up from it.

As you watched him, you noticed his eyes staring up at you as he sucked at your palm, his moans vibrating off of your hand and down your spine. You let out your own moan, causing Kreizler to form a smirk against your palm, although it wasn’t entirely in pleasure, but more fear.

“Doctor, I- what are you doing?” You finally mustered up to ask, your eyes glazing over with tears. You tried to pull your hand away from him, but his grip only tightened, this time, a whimper escaping.

He pulled away from your palm with a ‘pop’, blood staining his beard and turning his pearly white teeth red, a sigh escaping his lips.

“My dear, you taste devine.” He admitted, licking his lips and catching as himself with a laugh as his eyes began to roll into the back of his head. He was drunk on your sweet blood, taking everything inside of him to not turn you into one of them there and now. Then again, your blood was so sweet, it’d be hard to not just drink you dry.

You stumbled back once his grip on your hand loosened, bringing your hand to your chest, ignoring the blood that dripped down your arm and onto the front of your white nightgown, now exposed. You felt your heartbeat in your ears, pounding as you suddenly became weary with Dr. Kreizler being in your room.

“Doctor, I’m tired, perhaps you should le-”

“Come now, don’t be shy now.” He took a step forward and when you took one back, you felt your back hit the door, a laugh escaping his lips. “I do enjoy this fear that is radiating off of you. Makes it even more fun to drink from.”

When he teasingly chomped your way, he seemed to find the playful behavior funny, although you didn’t find it funny at all. He sensed your growing annoyance, mixing in with the fear that already settled in. He took one final step closer to you, moving the robe off your shoulders and letting it fall to the ground around you. His fingers ran down your bare arms, smirking to himself as the cold air hit your skin, goosebumps rising.

“I could just eat you up...and perhaps I will. Would you like that? Mark you up and leave you until you are begging for the sweet release of death? Is that what you’d like?” He enjoyed hearing you whimper, shaking in his grasp until the sudden switch of desperation filled you.

You didn’t know for long now, but you did. The idea of him being a vampire still confused you, unfamiliar with the truth to it all, but the immortality aspect, that was what drew you in. That was why you were there in the first place, your obsession with death yet the immense fear of it as well that led you into your hysteria. You weren’t perfect, you had your flaws, and that’s why you were at the Kreizler Institute.

“I’m your doctor, you know...I know what you crave, what you fear. I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to realize what I really am. Or perhaps you always have, and you just told yourself a lie to help you sleep at night. Although, I do find it quite sweet, how pathetically oblivious you are to your surroundings.”

You felt his left hand move to your jaw, tilting your head to the side to stretch your neck, exposing the smooth flesh, his weak hand slacked at his side. He hummed at the sight, his eyelids drooping down partially as he leaned his face forward, pressing his nose to your neck as he inhaled. He smiled against your skin when he felt you lean into him, one hand at his coat, the other on his wrist, keeping him tight against you.

“Please...Doctor, I-I don’t want to die. Let me live forever,” You begged, whimpering when you felt his beard tickle your neck. “Let me live with you forever.”

He didn’t know whether it was you begging for him to simply turn you or the fact that you wished to live with him specifically forever. Either way, it was enough to send the man into a frenzy, grabbing the back of your neck suddenly to let his fangs sink into you.

It all happened so suddenly, but the pain that came with it was unbearable. You let out a gasp and began to wither in his grip, trying to pull away from him as your vision went spotty, your head spinning and your legs shaking. It felt like you were going to throw up, but you didn’t have to at the same time.

“D-Doctor…”

He didn’t hear your weak pleads with him, your body slacking in his touch as he drank from you deeply. Kreizler couldn’t contain his thirst at this point, his mouth filling quickly with your blood before swallowing deeply, feeding off of you until his stomach began to ache, signaling that it was time to stop before you died rather than change.

When he pulled away, forcing your neck off of him, he stumbled back, gasping for air as his face specked with your blood. He didn’t mean to be so selfish, but when he finished feeding he forgot about your state entirely, leaning against your bedpost while you fell to the floor, lying unconscious in front of him.

He was gasping to try and regain his balance, frowning at the sight of you on the ground. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to lift you, given his arm, so he stayed and sat in your room until you were awake.

Kreizler fell back onto the foot of your bed, pulling out his handkerchief from the inside of his coat pocket before beginning to dab your blood from him, cleaning himself up as he waited for you to awake in your new state.

As a new fledgling, he knew you would be starving, hungry for a thirst like no other. He remembered when he first turned, the burning sensation in his throat as he begged his master for help. He wouldn’t be cruel to you though, no, he would be patient and guide you through this as his new lady of the evening.

Time passed on and you soon woke up, groaning as you rolled from your side and more onto your stomach, the pain in your neck throbbing as you blinked awake, staring ahead at the door in front of you.

Your memory was foggy, not remembering much that could explain why you were on the floor. You also began to notice the sour taste in your mouth, how your throat bubbled and tightened, craving something you never craved before.

“Ah, so she’s finally awake.”

You jumped at the voice behind you, although your body seemed to be frozen to the ground. Your eyes flickered side to side, desperately trying to think of a way to sit up. You pressed your good palm to the floor and slowly pushed yourself up, turning to look behind you.

And then it all came back to you. The cut on your palm, Dr. Kreizler coming in, the bite on your neck. Did what you think happened finally happen?

With a shaky hand, you reached up and felt the bite mark on your neck, your fingers skimming the wound as you looked up ahead at him, eyes widened. He smirked almost proudly at what he had done to you, extending his hand out to you.

“Come, you must be starving. We need to get you something to eat.”

You didn’t want to take his hand, but you felt almost compelled to. And with his help you stood, regaining your balance before looking up at him. He guided you out of your room, ignoring the sudden protests coming from you as you tried to cover yourself more.

As you continued throughout the halls, defending down step after step until you reached the door to the basement, something told you that what you were about to eat wasn’t exactly food.

[andy-15-07]

The News

Summary:Y/N anxiously prepares for Helmut Zemo’s return, holding a secret—she’s pregnant. When he arrives, they share an emotional reunion, and he’s overjoyed at the news of their growing family.

Paring: Baron Helmut Zemo x reader

Words count: 2594

Daniel Brühl Masterlist | Masterlist

The soft hum of the rain tapping against the windows filled the quiet apartment, adding to the warm, cozy atmosphere Y/N had tried to create all day. She had spent hours preparing for this moment—cleaning, cooking, and nervously adjusting everything in the living room a dozen times.

The smell of dinner—a mix of Zemo's favorite dishes—lingered in the air, and soft music played in the background, trying to mask the excitement and nerves building within her. Y/N checked her phone for what felt like the hundredth time, her eyes darting to the time.

He should have been home by now.

Helmut had been away on a mission for weeks, leaving her with nothing but sporadic, cryptic messages that barely hinted at when he might return. But today was different. Today, she was certain he'd be home. She had received a brief text earlier that morning, "Coming home tonight. Don't wait up."

Of course, she couldn’t just go to bed, not with the news she had been holding close to her heart, a secret she had been dying to share with him. She glanced down at the little box in her hands, flipping it open and shut nervously. Inside was a tiny pair of baby shoes—white and soft, with delicate lace around the edges. She smiled softly to herself, a rush of emotions threatening to spill over.

She had found out a few days after he had left. The initial shock had been overwhelming, but the idea of them starting a family had slowly taken root, filling her with a joy she hadn’t expected. Y/N could already imagine Helmut’s reaction, the way his eyes would light up, the way he’d pull her into his arms, overjoyed at the news.

The rain picked up, drumming harder against the window, and she glanced outside. The city was dark, a few lights flickering through the sheets of rain, but there was no sign of him yet.

Minutes felt like hours, and the worry she had tried to suppress started to creep in. What if something had gone wrong? What if he was hurt? But no, she pushed those thoughts away. Helmut was too skilled, too careful. He always made it back to her, no matter what.

She placed the baby shoes back in the box, setting it on the coffee table and rubbing her hands together nervously. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting a warm glow over the room, but it did little to soothe her nerves.

Then, finally, she heard it. The unmistakable sound of keys jingling at the door, followed by the soft click of the lock turning. Her heart leapt into her throat as the door slowly creaked open, and there he was—Helmut Zemo, soaked from the rain, his hair tousled, but very much alive and home.

“Helmut!” Y/N exclaimed, rushing to him before he could even close the door behind him. She threw her arms around him, ignoring the dampness of his clothes as she buried her face in his chest.

“Schatz…” he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion, but there was a softness in his tone as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, breathing her in, as if grounding himself after weeks away.

“I missed you,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. She had missed him terribly, every moment he was away felt like an eternity.

“And I missed you,” he replied, pulling back slightly to look at her. His dark eyes were tired but filled with love as he cupped her face in his hands, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, meine Liebe.”

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection for this man she had chosen to spend her life with. But she could see the weariness in his expression, the way his shoulders sagged slightly under the weight of whatever he had gone through. She knew better than to ask about the mission, not right away. There would be time for that later.

“You’re soaked,” she said, her voice tinged with concern. “Come on, let’s get you out of these wet clothes.”

He nodded, allowing her to guide him toward their bedroom. She helped him out of his coat and boots, and then he peeled off his wet shirt, tossing it aside. His body was as strong and lean as ever, though she couldn’t help but notice a few new bruises marring his skin.

Y/N frowned, reaching out to touch one gently, but Helmut caught her hand, bringing it to his lips instead.

“It’s nothing,” he assured her, his voice low. “Just a few scratches.”

She looked up at him, her brow furrowed with worry, but he gave her a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was trying to protect her, as always, but she could see through the façade. He was tired—emotionally and physically—but he was here, and that was what mattered most.

“Come on,” she whispered, tugging him toward the bathroom. “A hot shower will help.”

Helmut didn’t argue, and soon the sound of water filled the space as steam began to rise around them. Y/N stayed by his side, helping him rinse off the grime of whatever battle he had been through. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch as she ran her fingers through his wet hair, massaging his scalp gently.

They didn’t speak, the silence between them comfortable and intimate, a reminder of how connected they were, even after all these years.

Once he was clean, she handed him a towel, watching as he dried off and wrapped it around his waist. His gaze softened as he looked at her, his expression unreadable for a moment before he pulled her into his arms once more.

“Thank you,” he murmured into her hair, his voice filled with a deep, unspoken gratitude.

Y/N smiled against his chest, her heart fluttering with love for this man who was always so strong, so capable, and yet so vulnerable in moments like these. She pulled back slightly, looking up at him.

“I made dinner,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Your favorite.”

His eyes lit up, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “You spoil me, Schatz.”

“Only because you deserve it,” she teased, leading him back into the living room where the food was waiting.

They settled on the couch, plates in hand, and for a while, they just enjoyed the meal in comfortable silence. But Y/N could feel the weight of the secret she was holding, the news she was so eager to share. She glanced at the small box on the coffee table, her heart pounding in her chest.

Helmut noticed the shift in her demeanor, his brow furrowing slightly. “Is something on your mind, Y/N?” he asked, setting his plate aside.

She hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to begin. But then she took a deep breath, reaching for the box and holding it out to him.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she said softly, her voice trembling slightly.

Helmut’s eyes widened in surprise as he took the box from her hands, his expression curious as he opened it. His gaze softened instantly as he saw the tiny baby shoes nestled inside, his breath catching in his throat.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he looked up at her, his eyes searching hers for confirmation.

She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m pregnant, Helmut. We’re going to have a baby.”

For a moment, he just stared at her, as if trying to process the words. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face—a smile so full of joy and love that it took her breath away.

“Meine Liebe…” he murmured, setting the box aside and pulling her into his arms. He held her tightly, his hands trembling slightly as he cupped the back of her head, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she clung to him, feeling his love and warmth enveloping her completely. “I was so nervous,” she admitted, her voice cracking with emotion. “I didn’t know how you’d react.”

He pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hands and looking into her eyes with a seriousness that made her heart skip a beat. “Y/N, there is nothing in this world that could make me happier than this news,” he said, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “You and our child…you are everything to me.”

She smiled through her tears, overwhelmed by the depth of his love. “I love you, Helmut,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

“And I love you, more than anything,” he replied, pressing his forehead against hers. “Thank you…thank you for this gift.”

They stayed like that for a long moment, holding each other close, their hearts beating in sync. The rain outside had slowed to a gentle drizzle, the soft patter against the windows a soothing backdrop to the moment they were sharing.

Finally, Helmut pulled back, a playful glint in his eyes. “I suppose I’ll have to be extra careful on my missions from now on,” he said, a hint of humor in his voice. “I have more than just you to come home to now.”

Y/N chuckled, wiping away her tears. “Yes, you do. And you’d better keep that in mind.”

He smiled, leaning in to kiss her softly, his lips lingering against hers as if savoring the moment. When he pulled back, his eyes were filled with a tenderness that made her heart swell.

“We’re going to be a family,” he repeated, his voice filled with awe as if he was still trying to wrap his mind around the idea. His hand moved gently to rest on her stomach, his thumb tracing small, tender circles over the place where their child grew.

Y/N placed her hand over his, the warmth of his touch sending a wave of comfort through her. “Yes, we are,” she whispered, her voice full of love and certainty. “Our little family.”

Helmut’s eyes shone with emotion as he stared down at her, his usually composed demeanor softened by the weight of this new reality. He had faced countless challenges, confronted the most dangerous of foes, and yet, this moment—this simple, beautiful moment—was enough to bring him to his knees.

“Do you know how long I’ve dreamed of this?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “A family of my own… I never thought it would be possible after everything that’s happened. And now, here we are…”

Y/N smiled, her heart breaking and healing at the same time. She knew his past was riddled with pain and loss, and she understood how much this meant to him. “You deserve this, Helmut. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

He shook his head slightly, his expression one of disbelief. “I don’t know if I deserve it, but I’m not foolish enough to let it slip away. You and our child…you’re my future now. My purpose.”

She could see the determination in his eyes, the promise that he would do everything in his power to protect them, to give them the life they deserved. It was a vow unspoken, yet she felt it in every fiber of her being.

Helmut gently pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered again, the words heavy with gratitude. “Thank you for giving me this gift, for giving me hope.”

Y/N’s heart swelled with love for him, a love that seemed to grow stronger with each passing second. “You’ve given me so much, Helmut,” she replied softly, her fingers threading through his as they rested on her stomach. “This is our gift to each other.”

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the reality of their future slowly sinking in. It was a future filled with the unknown, but for the first time, they faced it together, not just as partners, but as a family.

After a while, Y/N broke the comfortable silence, her tone laced with playful curiosity. “So… have you thought of any names yet?”

Helmut chuckled, the sound warm and genuine, breaking through the seriousness of the moment. “Already? You’ve only just told me!”

Y/N laughed, the sound light and full of joy. “Well, we should get a head start, don’t you think? We need to be prepared.”

Helmut’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he considered her words. “True. But I think we should take our time. We have many months ahead of us to decide.” He paused, his gaze turning thoughtful. “But if I had to choose… something traditional, perhaps. Something with meaning.”

Y/N nodded, her mind racing with possibilities. “Something that honors your heritage, maybe? A name that connects our child to their roots.”

Helmut’s expression softened, a deep pride flashing in his eyes. “Yes,” he agreed, his voice low and serious. “Something that carries the weight of history, but also the promise of a new future.”

She could see how much this meant to him, and it warmed her heart to know that he was already thinking of their child’s legacy. “We’ll find the perfect name,” she assured him, leaning into his embrace. “One that represents everything we’ve been through, and everything we’re going to build together.”

Helmut kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering there as if sealing a promise. “We will,” he agreed. “And no matter what name we choose, our child will know they are loved. That is the most important thing.”

Y/N sighed contentedly, feeling a sense of peace settle over her. This was what she had always dreamed of—a life filled with love, a future full of hope. And now, with Helmut by her side, that dream was finally becoming a reality.

As the evening wore on, they talked about their plans for the future—the changes they would need to make, the things they would need to prepare for. They discussed where the nursery should be, what color to paint the walls, and how they would balance their new responsibilities. It was a conversation filled with excitement and a little bit of fear, but most of all, it was filled with love.

Eventually, the exhaustion of the day caught up with them, and they found themselves curled up on the couch together, the warmth of the fire lulling them into a comfortable drowsiness. Helmut held her close, his arms wrapped around her protectively, his hand resting on her stomach as if to keep their child safe even in his sleep.

Y/N looked up at him, her heart swelling with love as she watched him drift off. There was a contentment in his expression that she hadn’t seen in a long time, a peace that came from knowing they were finally moving forward together.

And as she closed her eyes, her head resting against his chest, she knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together—united by the love they had for each other, and for the family they were about to start.

In that moment, Y/N realized that the future was no longer something to be feared. It was something to be embraced, something to be cherished. And with Helmut by her side, she knew they would create a life filled with happiness, love, and endless possibilities.

As sleep finally claimed her, Y/N’s last thought was of the tiny heartbeat growing inside her, a new life born out of the love she shared with Helmut Zemo—a love that would carry them through anything.

The rain outside had stopped, leaving the night quiet and still. And in the warmth of their home, their hearts beat as one, full of love, hope, and the promise of tomorrow.

[scuttle-buttle]

Baby Bee took the time to take my crappy blueprint of what I imagine Laszlo's office at the university to look like for TIOD & Psychopathia Sexualis and made it in the Sims. Yall it is glorious. Bless you @hardlyinteresting

You can see the desk that he first fucked you on and then the couch where you made sweet love afterwards 🤭🥰

[marvelmusing]

Playing Chess

Laszlo Kreizler x Reader

The Alienist Mafia AU

My Masterlist

A/N: this could be considered a kind of dark!fic because there is violence towards the reader and suggested manipulation (but it might not be?). Like there’s genuine feelings underneath for both Laszlo and the reader, and they’re both manipulating each other for the sake of their work in the long run.

Laszlo Kreizler is New York’s most ruthless mafia boss. He’s viciously smart, he knows what you’re thinking before you’ve even thought it. He doesn’t need to threaten someone, he’s brought some of the toughest criminals to tears with his psychoanalysis of them. He’s the kind of man who will sit at his desk as he takes apart your psyche as casually as discussing the weather. There’s lots of rumours concerning his arm, but no one dares to mention it in his presence. John Moore is his consigliere, and he has proven his loyalty to Kreizler countless times over the years. Sara Howard is the family’s underboss. She had worked in law enforcement for years, before Laszlo recruited her. He saw her as a brilliant mind, being underpaid and overlooked by her colleagues. It took very little persuasion to convince her to join the family. The reader works for the secret service, they’ve been given the impossible task to get close to the infamous Laszlo Kreizler.

Dealing with Laszlo Kreizler is a lot like playing chess.

“You know, I get it now.” His head tilts ever so slightly aside, as you continue. “Why the majority of your employees are from the Institute. It must make it easier for them to do their jobs. They can’t tell the difference between the traumas of their past, and the trauma you’ve given them.” The blow has you falling to your knees, the muscles in your neck straining as your face is thrown to the side. You lick your lips, trying to ignore the taste of blood slowly filling your mouth. So that’s clearly a sore spot for him. He shrugs off his blazer, his eyes fixed on yours, and the dangerous spark in them has a shudder running down your spine. He very rarely loses his temper enough to resort to violence at his own hands. Because of this, you often forget how strong he is. You watch him as he hangs his blazer over the back of his chair, circling around his desk before leaning against the front of it, his eyes still on you.

“Leave us.” He demands, and his men comply immediately. He unbuttons his right sleeve, rolling it up to his elbow. Your eyes follow his actions as he reveals his forearm, his leather gloves still clad around his fingers. He extends his left wrist towards you, nodding at the button at the base of his sleeve. You move forward, still on your knees, and begin to undo the cuff and roll up his sleeve. He watches you intently, and you know he notices how your fingers are shaking.

“I’m sorry sir.” You say quietly, your words small in the near silent room.

“Not yet. But you will be.” He reaches down to take your chin between his fingers. His face softens somewhat when he sees you flinch slightly, and he sighs gently, “I apologise for reacting so harshly towards you. I can assure you that I will control my temper, in return you will never speak to me so unkindly again. Am I understood?”

“You’re not going to hurt me?” You ask in an almost whisper. His fingers caress your jaw absentmindedly, and you begin to lean into his touch.

“No drágám, I’m not.” He assures you, in such a tender voice that you feel the ache of what you’ve done in your chest. You swallow hard, as shameful tears burn behind your eyes. Your gaze falls from his face as you try and stop the tears from falling. He tilts your face back up to meet his eyes. “Although I would like to know the reason why you said such a thing about my family.”

“I don’t know.” You breathe out shakily, as the tears begin to stream down your cheeks.

“You hurt my feelings drágám, you’re going to have to do a little better than ‘I don’t know’.” You flounder for an answer, all this back and forth, and the crying, is making your head ache. You continue to sniffle for a moment, avoiding his gaze, before he steps in. “I think I know what this is.” Panic races through you, he’s figured it out. “I’ve been spending too much time at the Institute, and you’ve felt neglected.” You look up at him, trying to look a mixture of guilty, surprised, and embarrassed. You open your mouth slightly, letting your chin wobble for a moment before closing it again, and nodding.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t even know-“ you break off as a sob shakes your shoulders. He shushes you softly.

“While it is sweet of you, to need my attention, acting out like this is not an effective means. Understood?” Sometimes you honestly can’t tell if he’s establishing healthy boundaries or just fully manipulating you. You nod, shaking a few more tears down your cheeks.

“Yes sir. I’m sorry.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. When he leans back he tilts your head aside, studying the mark he’s left on the side of your face. You can’t see his face at this angle, but his voice is a sorrowful half-murmur,

“Drágám, I’m so sorry.” You swallow hard, he does sound genuinely sorry, but you know you can’t trust anything he says. You tilt your head back to face him, and the two of you look at each other for a quiet moment. He trails his fingers against your uninjured cheek, and you do your best to look content with his gentle touch. “Why don’t you go upstairs and draw yourself a bath, hm? I’ll be with you in under ten minutes.” You let your smile widen and nod. He gives you a nod of permission to stand, and you go to retrieve his blazer before helping to slide it back over his shoulders. He smiles kindly at you as you do up his button, leaning down to press a kiss against the tip of your nose. “So good for me.” You try to ignore how genuine your reaction is to his praise. “Now drágám,” he says, a mischievous spark dancing in his eyes. “Remember to look extra sad for my men. I can’t have you ruining my reputation.” Your smile widens.

“Yes sir.” Once you’ve shut the door to his office, you ensure to hunch your shoulders slightly, hugging your arms close to your body. You don’t hold eye contact with any of the men for long, keeping your eyes wide and fearful, and the tear stains on your face certainly help. For good measure, you limp ever so slightly as you make your way down the corridor, feeling their eyes on you as you head towards your room. You know they were all exchanging smug looks at the sight of you. You know those looks will drop when the office door swings open, and he orders them to make use of themselves instead of lounging around his house.

°•. ✿ .•°

Your fingers shake a little, from the leftover adrenaline, as you mix the bath oil into the water. You’ve undressed, and sit perched on the edge of the tub while you trail your fingers through the warm soapy water. You don’t move when you hear Laszlo make his way up the stairs, or when he enters the bedroom, or when he leans against the door frame of the bathroom. Your eyes flicker to the mirror, which allows you to see nearly all of him as he watches you. Your eyes meet and you look down quickly, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m not mad at you, drágám.” You nod weakly,

“I’m still sorry, I shouldn’t have said something so-“ He steps forward, wrapping his arms around you.

“You’re forgiven. It’s alright now, I promise.” You look up at him with wide eyes.

“Really?”

“Yes.” He says tenderly. “Now, we’ve both had a long day.” He kisses you on the forehead before gesturing to the tub. “Get in.” He nudges you gently and you climb into the water as he removes his clothes. He retrieves a small container from his pocket and soon joins you in the bath. You look at what he has in his hand curiously. “Will you sit on my lap drágám?” You nod and move over to balance yourself on his thigh. He scoops up some water in his hand before carefully cleaning your face, ensuring he is particularly delicate over the skin of your injured cheek. You wince slightly at the contact and he shushes you soothingly and encourages you with small praises. He opens the container from his pocket to reveal some sort of cream, which he begins to apply to your cheek. You hum quietly at the coolness of the cream, and you finally relax in his arms. Once he’s done you rest your head against his shoulder and let him smooth his hands over your body.

Dealing with Laszlo Kreizler is a lot like playing chess. You have to overthink constantly, question his, and your own, intentions, and be wary of everyone. Although, when your opponent is tender and charming like this, you almost forget what it is that you’re playing.

[provokedgoalie]

40 plz🥺

40: "I want you to worship me like I worship you" / Serial Killer!Laszlo Kreizler

Your limbs were bound to the bed, scratchy rope digging into the skin; you winced with every move, yet you couldn't force yourself to lay still.

The doctor was sat in a chair at the bedside table, observing your futile efforts to escape in eerie silence.

He passed a hand over his well-groomed beard in contemplation, pausing slightly to lean over you — the moon outside of the window illuminated his towering frame, making him appear larger and domineering.

"I want you to worship me like I worship you," he murmured, caressing your bare legs with the tips of his fingers, ignoring the way you thrashed wildly against his touch. “Even if I have to break you, you will succumb to my advances, my dear. In due time.”

send me a number & I'll write a 5 sentence ficlet!

[nev3rfound]

in another lifetime : part seven - h.z / l.k

knowing your time is up you have no choice but to accept your fate with laszlo by your side. yet zemo refuses to let this be the end for you, knowing there is so much more you for to experience and live for. 4.7k (it's a longun)

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests are now open!

warnings: elements of tfatws series and the alienist, injuries, health problems, mentions of illness and disjointed info from doctor strange kinda au, kinda sad in parts (this is all sort of an au so be mindful thank you!) SAD okay - i warned you

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN (the ending)

thank you so SO much for reading this series and allowing me to delve into other daniel bruhl characters. it's been a joy to write and here's to IALT :)

New York - 1898

Laszlo stirs beside you, turning over as the sun began to rise. The rays of light encroach through the curtains, illuminating a slither of your face for him to admire.

He couldn't help but think how peaceful you look in your sleep, without a single worry consuming your thoughts unlike his that haunts his sleep. He knew this was the end, and that there was no stopping the inevitable, but he'd at least make the most of what little time he has left with you.

Rising from the bed with a stiff back, Laszlo attempts to be quiet as the mattress rose with him. But he knew better than to assume you'd remain asleep, you always woke at the slightest of sounds.

"Why're you staring, Laszlo, don't you know it's rude?" Your voice remains heavy with sleep as you blink away the last of your dreams.

Unable to stop the corners of his lips rising, Laszlo nods. "Sometimes I just can't help myself, dear."

"I guess that can be forgiven," You mutter, forcing yourself to sit upright only to feel a wave of nausea overcome your senses.

Laszlo notices immediately and he reaches under the bed, handing you a bowl kept in case. He doesn't even flinch at the sound of you retching into the bowl, only lowers his gaze until you're composed.

"I'm sorry," The words are muffled by the bowl, but Laszlo hears you nonetheless. Awkwardly he makes his way over to your side and runs his fingers through your hair, brushing it from your face as you lift your head back up. "Las," You whisper his name, too afraid to say it.

Yet, he understands without having verbal confirmation.

It's time.

New York - 2025

Entering the close to an abandoned-looking building, Sam struggles to hold back a sneeze as he walked into a cobweb.

"Ma-duk," Zemo mutters, following Sam in with Bucky smiling to himself at the comment.

"I heard that." Sam retorts, wiping the cobweb away. "So, where are they?" He looks around at the dust-coated stairwell and stain-glassed windows.

Bucky hums. "They should be here."

"Yes, thank you for repeating that." Sam rolls his eyes. "How are we here before them when they can do that," Sam lifts his arms up, copying the actions often seen from the sorcerers of the mystic arts.

Zemo's ears perk up at a faint hissing sound, and as he turns sparks begin to form in thin air. "I think they might've heard you, Sam." Zemo calls out, watching several portals form and the recruited team of sorcerers step into the lobby.

Now standing before the trio, Strange approaches first.

"Are you sure you're ready to do this? We don't know how she'll react or if she'll even come back." Strange reminds Bucky specifically, knowing he had the most concern about you returning despite the longing to see you again.

"She needs to come back." Zemo comments with a small smile. "So she can heal, and live her life." He adds, looking down at his left hand, noting how it still feels odd to see his ring finger bare.

"There's one thing though that we haven't discussed," Emilie speaks up, sharing a look of understanding with Strange. "If Y/n returns, she, she won't be able to go back, not ever." Emilie explains with sorrow filling her tone, picturing your bright smile in those old articles everyone researched.

You'd be torn from your family once again, forced into another situation whether you'd like it or not.

"She'll never see Laszlo again?" Zemo is the first to ask, unsure what to make of it all.

"It's too complex for the timeline. If she were to return, a new timeline would form and," Strange trails off upon seeing blank expressions in response.

"If Y/n comes home, that's it." Emilie states finally. "It's up to her if she does, but we can at least try."

"So be it." Sam nods, sparing Bucky a look who nods in response despite his shoulders beginning to fall forward in despair.

Both Emilie and Strange turn their backs to face the other sorcerers and begin their process. "So, Y/n will be home." Sam chuckles dryly at the thought, after all these years without you to tease him or make him smile when times got tough. He knew he owed you more than these past few years, even if he's not been there to help you through them, he'll help you now.

--

Wandering the halls of the Institute, your fingers glide across the walls laced with memories. You'll never forget the children, their laughter or cries for a Mother figure and them finding comfort in you for a short while.

You find your feet guiding you toward Laszlo's office, the door remaining ajar and piano now clean from dust too tempting to ignore.

Sitting down once more your back remains turned from the doorway. Yet this time, you can sense Laszlo lingering, watching you closely as you begin to play a gentle melody.

With your eyes closed, your fingers guide the tune, one you knew from childhood- a simpler time before everything became so complicated when there were no worldly threats and a lifetime of loss.

"You played that once before," Laszlo enters his office, listening to the song ending and catches your fingers slipping from the keys. "Christmas Eve last year." He remembers, unaware of the tears forming in your eyes whilst he smiles at the memory.

"My mother taught it to me," You whisper, not wishing to shatter the moment with volume. "she, she would always sing along whilst dancing with my siblings." A single tear falls to your lap upon feeling Laszlo's hand rest on your shoulder, followed by his lips to the top of your head.

"I know Schatz, we danced together, along with Sara and John." Laszlo recalls as he lifts his head up, catching the downturn of your lips.

"Oh, of course," The words pass your lips in a mumble. "it's getting worse, Las." You hate to admit it aloud, but you both knew it would happen eventually.

Taking the spot beside you, Laszlo wraps his arm around you allowing you to rest your head on his chest. With a heavy sigh, he closes his eyes, treasuring this moment with you. "We knew this was coming, Y/n." Laszlo remains truthful, no matter how much it hurts. "But there's no need to be afraid, remember that."

Laszlo can hear you sniffling at his words he uses his bad arm to try and lift your chin so you can look at him properly.

Despite your blurred vision, you can tell he's crying too. "What if something happens?" You dare to question, knowing this is filled with uncertainties for you both.

"We'll figure it out, just like we always have." Laszlo states as he leans in, his lips brushing over yours. "It'll all work out, my dear." He mutters to you before kissing you again, this time not wanting to dare let go of you.

--

On the sidelines to the final preparation stands Bucky, watching everyone's movements and listening to the conversation.

"I thought you'd be more excited, hell, I anticipated a smile at the least." Sam tries to lighten the tense mood as he dares intrude Bucky from his thoughts.

Bucky pauses before sparing Sam a glance. "It's just not what I expected. After all this time." He admits, his mind racing with those photos and articles they all read about you.

You were a wife, a mother figure to children who needed one. A friend to many and a badass detective. It was everything you dreamt of having, but never had the opportunity to experience.

"Don't go telling me you wanna back out?" Sam notices the change in Bucky's posture immediately.

Shaking his head slowly, no more words are exchanged between the pair.

"It'll be Y/n's choice, Sam." Zemo comments, having overheard the brief conversation.

"But she should come home, to where she belongs." Sam can't help himself. He knows he might be selfish, but he doesn't want to lose you again, not like this. "If she doesn't come back, she's gone for good. There's no returning, no miracle, no spell or time travel available. She will become nothing more than a name on a gravestone."

Sam's words fall flat between everyone. His voice had risen during his statement.

Strange clears his throat, ensuring their attention reverts. "It's time, she's ready."

Every student present begins to form a line whilst Strange stands before them. "You know what to do, focus." He nods to them all, stepping back toward Bucky, Sam and Zemo as the students take deep breaths.

"You sure this'll work?" Sam can't help ask, depiste how much extensive practise has gone into this.

One by one, a portal begins to open. Some are to places unrecognisable, the wrong time period or the wrong city.

Yet, Emilie's leads to Doctor Laszlo Kreizler's institute.

"Well, who's going?" Emilie asks with a hint of a smile on her face, watching Strange, Sam and Bucky enter, leaving Zemo to stand watching. "You not joining?"

Zemo keeps his feet firmly planted on the spot. "It's not my place to be involved." He simply remarks, crossing his fingers behind his back, hoping you'll return.

--

"After all this, you're leaving?" Tears line Sara's cheeks, but she refuses to wipe them. This is her moment of weakness with the three people she trusts with everything. How was this supposed to become only two?

Laszlo's hand remains on your waist, holding you close. He can feel your body tensing, noting you clenching your fists as light streams through your veins.

"Trust me, if there was another way," You trail off when the pain intensifies. It feels like acid is pumping through your veins, causing you to fall into Laszlo who whispers comfort into your ear.

"We can't let her live like this," Laszlo kisses your temple, not wanting to face his friends. "she will be helped, she will be cured." He reaffirms. "That is what is important in this situation."

John, previously standing tall now slumps into the armchair. "I can't imagine our lives without you now, Y/n." John dryly chuckles, catching a half smile from you in response.

"I'll be back, John." You breathe out, missing the look Laszlo sends John. "Can't keep me gone. Not when there's so much to do around here." Forcing a small laugh, the pain begins to subside enough for you to support your own weight.

Yet, something shifts.

Laszlo notices, but Sara and John seem oblivious to such.

Without a second thought, your hand reaches for Laszlo's, taking his fingers between yours and clasping your hand into his. He squeezes three times, and you do in return.

"It's time." You stand tall, with your husband by your side. "Don't try and have too much fun without me, alright?"

Sara and John rise to their feet, embracing you in a hug before allowing you to walk out of the office, hand in hand with Laszlo.

Once you have turned the corner, Sara crumbles into John. "She's not coming back, is she?" Sara mutters, feeling John's hand on the back of her head, holding her close.

John needn't say a word, because they both knew from how tightly Laszlo held your hand, knowing it would soon slip from his forevermore.

--

Standing opposite the building, horses continued to neigh before being forced to walk on, guiding the carriages from their view leaving tracks of snow behind.

"We're really here, huh?" Sam looks in disbelief. Despite everything that's happened, this is probably in his top three weirdest situations.

Bucky watches intensely at the front door to the institution, the large gates guarding the building delicately wound with golden leaves. And then, his breath halters at the sight; you.

Strange can see it play out and extends his arm outward. "I wouldn't." His tone suggests a warning, and for once, Bucky obliges. "We have to let her do this, on her terms."

"How long do we have?" Sam asks, glancing back at the open portal. The rest of the sorcerers are supporting Emilie, seeing sweat drip from her forehead, her arms already trembling.

Without blinking, Strange responds. "5 minutes at most."

Dark clouds above begin to shake, dropping snowflakes down on the city, adding to the existing used pile beneath their feet.

The group watches you exit the building, hand in hand with Doctor Kreizler. If it were any other situation, Sam might've spared a laugh at your outfit, knowing how long it must've taken for you to comply to such a dress code.

You continue your conversation with Laszlo, pretending that this isn't it, because it's not, it cannot be. And then you see them, through the gates, your other family.

Without a chance to catch a breath, the piercing pain increases and you let out a scream.

"Schatz, it's alright, I've got you." Collapsing behind the gates, you close your eyes, embracing Laszlo as tears freely fall, almost freezing against your cheeks. "I've got you." He repeats, hearing hurried footsteps approaching the gates.

Two pairs of hands wrap around the gates, matched with concerned gazes set on you.

"Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes, I take it?" Laszlo asks.

Neither Sam nor Bucky can get over the resemblance to the man standing on the other side of the portal, but they know this isn't the time to fixate on how you could hate one and love another.

"Can we come in?" Bucky questions, thankful when Laszlo nods.

Snapping the chains, the gates open outward.

"Come on, schatz." Laszlo lifts a hand up to your hair, brushing it out from your face, his heart sinking when you meet his gaze. "We both know this day would come, where one would say goodbye to the other before our time was up." He speaks clearly, submerging the pain in his voice.

Slowly you rise with his help, unaware of your oldest friends mere feet from you after all this time.

"Oh, Laszlo," You whisper, placing your hands on his cheeks, catching a tear he lets slip out at your delicate tone. "this isn't goodbye. There's still so much more for us to do."

Bringing his hands to cover yours, he moves them to his lips. "But I'm afraid we won't be doing it together, dear." He frets, feeling your hands shake in his.

"Our adventure isn't over, Las." Squeezing his hands three times, you focus on his deep eyes, remembering them clearly when he first stumbled upon you all those years ago. They were forever laced with kindness, and sincerity for those who needed help. He never had to help you, but he chose to. And now, you will do him the same kindness. "It is simply happening at different times."

Holding back a sob, Laszlo squeezes back three times. "And that is okay." You finish, leaning closer to kiss him.

When your lips meet his, you wish to never let go.

Every kiss replays in your mind. From the piano to your first time together, your wedding, the arguments, the relief after a case, near misses during said cases, celebrations, losses and every little moment in between.

Snowflakes mix with teardrops as you part.

"I will always love you, Laszlo." You whisper, wanting this to be said between you both, for him only.

His hands begin to slip from yours until they're empty of your warm embrace. "I love you, Y/n Kreizler." Laszlo mirrors your tone, watching your footprints in the snow lead toward the large portal before swallowing you whole.

The snow continues to fall, and your footprints begin to be covered. But you'll never be forgotten that easily, not by Laszlo.

As the portal consumes you, two pairs of arms support you. "We've got you, it's okay, doll." Bucky mutters, attempting to soothe you.

Looking over your shoulder, sparks of orange dissipate and your heart sinks. A scream overcomes your body, leaving you to slump to the ground with nothing left to give. That's when the world becomes blurred once more and turns into darkness.

--

Three months later. New York, 2025.

It still felt strange. The loss of him and that life is something you're unsure you'll ever overcome.

You, like many of your friends, have endured more loss than any person should experience in a lifetime. But knowing that doesn't make it any easier, nothing does.

Sitting in the living room with an almost cold mug of tea in hand, tear streaks are permanently dried to your cheeks.

"Y/n?" Zemo enters the room, hardly surprised when you do not respond nor spare him a glance.

Ever since you returned, you've been avoiding him. Zemo has an idea of why, but it's never been confirmed. You were escorted to Wakanda the night you returned, and only last week released with a clean bill of health to New York. A clean bill of physical help, no one can fix the scars on your mind with ease, not even Wakandan technology.

As an act of gratitude, you asked for them to spare Zemo for all he has done and helped with. Though you never told him to his face, you were grateful for everything that happened as, without it, you would never have known true love.

"Hello, Zemo." Your voice is still hoarse from the nightmares that plague your attempts at sleep. Everyone can hear you cry and scream for Laszlo. Usually, Bucky is the one who rushes in, trying to ease the pain like you once did for him. "How're you today?"

Nodding in response, despite the fact your back is facing him, Zemo approaches you cautiously. "I wanted to thank you, Y/n." Zemo acknowledges, nearing the sofa situated toward the large pane of windows.

"You deserve to live too." The sentence is muttered, but loud enough for Zemo to hear it. "I know I," You pause, daring to meet his gaze for the first time. "I can't go back." Tears immediately form in your eyes as you look at him.

Clean cut, hair parted differently. Even his stance and attire are unlike your beloved. But despite how much of him differ, it's still a punch in the gut to see him like this.

"How are you feeling today, Y/n?" Zemo rephrases, watching you roughly wipe your eyes with the tattered sleeves of your hoodie. "There's something I'd like to show you, only if you're feeling well enough for the excursion."

Rising to your feet with a heavy sigh, you face Zemo straight on. This time, your eyes do not waver from his. "I could use a change of scenery." You shrug, following behind him toward the front door.

Neither Sam or Bucky question the sight of you both leaving the building, instead they were thankful to see you, even if it were with Zemo. "Do you think?" Sam begins to question, noticing Bucky nod. "And do we?"

"No," Bucky answers curtly. "let him show her."

Walking alongside Zemo, the chill of winter catches you off guard as your arms remain tightly crossed.

"My wife, she always told me stories are often intertwined in life." Zemo quietly speaks up as you walk slowly alongside him. "When, when I left Sokovia, she wished me farewell like she normally would. I gave my son a hug goodbye," His voice cracks, causing you to pause and face him.

"That, that was the last time you saw them, isn't it?" Your hand rests on his upper arm as he barely nods. "What did she mean, about stoties being intertwined?"

An attempted smile crosses Zemo's lips at the memory of his wife's words. "She said there would always be people in our lives we'd meet, and for some reason, it would just make sense. I guess I'd never thought too deeply about it, until well," He trails off as you both continue walking toward an unknown destination.

"Until?" You press.

"Until you came into my apartment with a look of utter disgust, the opposite of the one my wife once had." He remarks, daring to glance over and see the visible confusion on his face. "You, you're a lot like her, Y/n. In many ways."

Words fail your lips, but you manage to hum.

"I don't expect you to say anything." Zemo adds fretfully.

"Where are we going?" You eventually question, noting the streets baring away from the liveliness of the city, drearing toward the quieter patches, peaceful even.

"It's just up ahead." He tells you, leaving you both to walk in silence toward the grass filled pathway.

Thick blades of grass and weeds were overgrown, leaving little of the original pathway exposed. Your eyes wandered the grounds, noticing the increase of angel statues, named etched in stone and dried, dying flowers planted at the bases.

Suddenly, your mind drifts back to a forgotten memory.

"This is where she'll be buried." Laszlo sighs deeply, resting his hand heavily on the cane, the other in yours. "It was all my fault."

"Don't say that, Laszlo." You hush him. "It was an accident, no one is to be of blame for this." Looking around the graveyard, many plots remained empty, awaiting a new resident to take a permanent place. "At least it is a pleasant resting place."

Lifting his head up, he follows your gaze toward the large hanging oak tree. "It is indeed." Laszlo remarks, stepping back and lightly pulls on your hand, guiding you out of the graveyard.

"Zemo," You breathe out, sparing him a teary glance.

"I won't intrude, but I thought this is something you deserved." He clears his throat, coming to a halt with you by his side. "It's the least I can do for you, Y/n." A small smile graces his lips when your eyes meet his, and an attempted one crosses your own.

Looking down, your knees become weak.

It's covered in moss, and cracked in areas. Mixtures of grey and white spread beneath the greenery that entraps it. But there, clearly etched into the stone; Doctor Laszlo Kriezler & Y/n Kriezler. Husband and Wife, lived long eventful lives. Their adventures together and apart will forever outlive them.

"He-" A sob lodges in your throat, your knees finally giving way. With Zemo's help, you cradle the mildewed grass beneath your feet as your fingers glide over your names, remaining together, forever.

"Whilst you were in Wakanda, Doctor Strange was able to find a small temporary loophole." Zemo begins to explain, remaining stood by your side whilst you quietly cry. Your palm never leaves your husband's name on the stone. "Bucky and Sam were able to visit Doctor Kriezler, inform him that you lived and will eventually be alright."

Sniffing, you can picture it now. Your oldest friends, going to meet your husband from the 1800s. As if your life wasn't weird enough.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Zemo pulls out an envelope and kneels beside you. "He wanted you to have this, Y/n."

A wax sealed, well well worn enclosed letter is in front of you. Even from here, it smells like the institute. Closing your eyes, you can see Laszlo now, hunched over his desk in the evening. Once all the children have gone to sleep, the fire behind him crackles. But you aren't there to fill the room with music or laughter. He'll be alone, writing you a letter, a final farewell.

Bringing the letter into your own hands, you sit upright. "Thank you, Zemo." You mumble, aware of his presence retreating to allow you this moment.

Cautiously, you lift the wax seal from the delicate paper to see his handwriting.

Wiping your eyes once more, you avoid splashing the ink with your tears as you begin to read his final letter to you, his love, his lost wife.

'My dearest Y/n, I know this has not been an easy journey for you, schatz, it was never intended to be. From the moment we first met, there was something in you I knew I couldn't live without knowing, even if John claimed insanity from me for allowing a woman dressed in such attire to be seen getting into our carriage; it was the least of my concern because I needed, I yearned to learn about this mystery woman. What I had not intended, was to fall in love with her. That, however, is not something I can ever regret, for it was the wisest decision I have made. Your smile, your wit, your laughter. My love, it is something I think of fondly, and I know Sara and John miss it too. We often sit in silence here at the institute, thinking back to those days after an investigation. How we'd all sit by the fire with a whiskey. You might accompany with music, and Sara may dare dance if she'd drank enough. Those are the moments I reflect on most; as you were candidly content. Your eyes would flicker with unfathomed joy which travelled to your lips and warmed my heart. I'm afraid to admit I can't bring myself to sit at the piano without you by my side. That being said, Y/n, my dear, I don't want you to suffer out there. We knew the consequences, even if neither wanted to admit such. I loved and will love you forevermore with everything, but I want you to do everything we never had the time for. Travel my love. See the world, take care of your spunky friends - they are exactly as you described them to be. If things were different, I'd say Sara might have taken some fancy (but best not repeat that.) Now, I am sure that you are aware of my burial place, one I had made originally for you. Even though I know you live on, you deserve a place here, one for us to visit. One day, I am sure my name will join yours, and that we will meet again.

Never forget my Y/n, our story is not over. It will continue again, in another life.

With all my love, yours, Laszlo.'

Crumbling into yourself, you have nothing left to voice. You hug the letter close to your chest, wanting and wishing for nothing more than it to be his arms around you. For Laszlo to whisper into your ear that everything will work out.

But he's not here. He's long gone and this is your reality of life without him.

"Y/n?" Zemo quietly calls your name, having approached one more upon seeing you curled into the damp grass as your shoulders shake.

Opening your eyes, you slowly look up at the man so alike to your love. It evokes something new completely within you as you focus on him. "T, thank you." You manage to find the words, knowing deep down that they aren't enough, no words will be enough as you look down at the letter in your grasp.

"I understand, Y/n." Zemo tells you softly, extending his hand toward you.

Accepting his help, you brush off the grass from yourself and glance back to the gravestone.

Silence falls between Zemo and you, but for once it isn't filled with tension and the unknown; it brings peace.

With the letter in hand, your thumb brushes over the wax seal before you tuck it into your pocket and face Zemo once more.

"Helmut?" You speak up, surprising both yourself and Zemo. You've never called him that, but it's embraced as he nods. "Would you like to see your family's memorial?"

Feeling his breath hitch in his throat, Zemo looks around in confusion. "This is real?" He asks in disbelief.

"Yes, Helmut. This is real." A soft smile forms on your lips, one of sure gratitude as Zemo's hand rests on his own heart. "Come on, we wouldn't want to keep them waiting."

"I, I," Stumbling over his own words, Zemo simply wraps his arms around you and brings you into a hug.

Tears form in his eyes whilst you cannot see him, but you can hear how fast his heart is beating.

Lifting your hand up, you rub his back whilst facing the gravestone, knowing somewhere, Laszlo is looking down with pride.

"You deserve closure too, Helmut. A whole new chapter awaits you out there." You mutter to him, closing your eyes and enjoying the embrace before you set off on a new adventure into the unknown. IALT SERIES TAGLIST: (sorry for making you lot wait nearly a whole year for the ending.) @zemosbaroness @fillechatoyante @country-cowgirl-101 @kpopnena @telesynths @thebookisbtr @mybisexualheartbeatsforzemo @ajeff855 @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fangirl-inthe-us @marchingicenotes7 @graniairish @lol-im-done @cinna-minseok @sapphiredreamer26 @swndmans @soxysarah92 @thehornyfemme @bloop-booop @fictionlandslanddreams

[incorrectalienistquotes]

Modern AU part II

Stevie plays DnD

Marcus wears beanies

Bitsy works for Sara’s detective agency

She’s really good at hacking

Stevie and Joseph are disaster buddies

Cyrus is a bouncer and a piano teacher

He’s trying to save up money to open his own bar

Sara has a cat

Marcus has his phone, tablet, and MacBook on him at all times

Laszlo still dresses very similar to how he does in the show

They all help Sara solve cases (not unlike Agatha Raisin)

Laszlo knows a lot about social media and pop culture because of his work with children but doesn’t actually have any practical knowledge

He knows what yeet means but doesn’t understand stories on Instagram

Marcus thinks he has the most followers

It’s actually Stevie’s meme account

Lucius and Bitsy are in a long term relationship

Marcus teases his brother but he’s actually really happy for him

John sort of accidently adopts Joseph

He later sort of accidently adopts a dog as well

It’s a labrador and he becomes the third disaster buddy right away

Sara drives a motorcycle

Everyone knows sign language so they can talk with Mary

Lucius is obsessed with games like The Sims, Animal Crossing, Minecraft, etc

Marcus, Lucius, and Bitsy all speak Yiddish which is one of the few languages Laszlo doesn’t speak

Sara knows more swear words than anyone else and is not afraid to use them