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amathslutsguidetofandom · 1 month

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Infinite Solutions - 1

PAIRINGS: Law!Professor!Andy Barber x Math!Professor!Reader

SUMMARY: MIT is famously known for its high level of education. What happens if it's not only filled with knowledge? What if it is also filled with confusion? Confusion of a new, hard-working Mathematics professor? A professor who might be falling in love with her fellow co-worker? What if that co-worker was in the Law faculty? What if that Law professor is Andrew "Andy" Barber?

WARNINGS: Swearing (if you squint).

WORD COUNT: 1,905

ENJOY!

"Shit!" You feel the puddle soak your new, expensive black slacks. Swearing at your recklessness, you ignore the mishap and continue to walk on the cobblestone. The Massachusetts chill is cooler than usual, and that’s why you have your coffee in hand. The sip you take instantly warms and floods your entire being with comfort.

You see students sitting on the lawn with textbooks and papers surrounding them like an iron fence; you lightly smile at the reminder of how you were in their exact position and place when you were in your undergrad.

MIT is filled to the brim with students as they walk to their respective classes. You see the building of your destination, and you trek towards it. The feeling of your wet pant leg sticking to your skin is something that you were not really into, but at this point, you really don’t care. You were going to be late if you pay any more attention to that mistake.

You push open the doors and walk in and make your way to an office you used to frequent back in your young adulthood.

-------

"I must say, that when I got your application, I was quite shocked," Schmidt says from his seat with a light smile on his face. You give him one of your downwards smiles, “I can assure you, Mr. Schmidt, sending my application in was something I thought I never had to do. I mean, it was an arbitrary decision; I wasn’t really thinking about it when I sent it in.”

He laughs at your response before taking a sip from his coffee. "And please, call me Tobias," the German mathematician replies kindly before gathering some papers on his desk and standing, and you follow suit. "Let me show you to your office; I heard it has one of the greatest views," he opens the door and lets you go ahead first.

The halls of the building were old and gave you some sort of idea of how much mathematical knowledge has soaked into its walls over the years. You used to walk these halls all the time, use some of their empty classrooms all alone, and solve the most complex problems on their blackboards.

Now, you’re here walking beside your boss, the Dean. But in a previous life, that was your bachelor's, he was your first-year Multivariable Calculus professor.

The little journey to your new workspace isn’t long, but it consisted of you and Tobias chatting in the first half. “If I may, may I ask what happened over there,” he points at the wet splotch on your pant leg. You shake your head and wave him off, “a long story you do not want to listen to, I assure you.” The rest of the walk is just the two of you recollecting about your time back when you were an undergrad.

“You used to send emails at 3 am,” he says with a throaty chuckle. You widen your eyes as you remember what type of student you were. “Oh dear, I did, didn’t I?” You both share a laugh until he stops in front of a dark oak door.

"Well, here we are," he smiles warmly and unlocks the door with a key before handing it to you. You nod your thanks and follow him inside when he opens the door.

When he mentioned that the view was going to be gorgeous, you thought he was overstating it. But now that you are here, and you are looking out of the window with your eyes. You are stunned.

“And I know how much you love the blackboards, so I recommended them to book this office, specifically, for you,” he states before setting the papers he’s carrying on the, your, desk.

You look at him confused, then see the blackboard attached to the wall opposite your window. God, you think you could die at ease now. Your desk sits in the space between the window and the blackboard.

There are metal drawers at two corners of the room, and lamps situated on top of them illuminating the room in a decent glow. “This—” you scoff shockingly, “this is amazing, it’s literally more than I could ask for.” The 50-something man chuckles and smiles at your reaction. “Welcome to the School of Mathematics, Professor.”

-------

You type furiously at your keyboard, the monitor taking in your input as you type the last of the lecture notes for week 5. Finally, you click on the period.

Sighing, you lean back and stretch your arms. Your back tenses as you finally straighten your posture from the hunched position you were in.

The clock above your door shows that it's half to midnight. You do a few finishing touches to your notes before posting it on the website so the keener few of the students can get their studying done.

At the end of it all, you shut down your desktop and get your stuff packed. Your phone pings as you receive messages from friends and family congratulating you and liking your post on Instagram.

The picture you posted was of the view you had from your desk, and it really was Pinterest-worthy, so you decided why not and post it on social media.

You leave your office and lock it before exiting the building and returning to the Cambridge chilling weather.

-------

You're nervous.

Really, really nervous.

It’s the first day of classes, and students are already starting to file in. You thought there would only be a handful at your 8 AM class, but here you are, seeing that the whole class is full.

The hand on your watch strikes 8 AM, and you look up and see all the different types of students waiting for you to start the class.

Taking in a deep breath, you adjust the microphone that’s clipped on your navy silk blouse and switch it on. Then you rub your hands together before walking to stand in front of the blackboard.

“Morning everyone!” You start with a bright smile on your face. “I’ll be your professor for this unit, for this semester.” You tell the class your name and what title you prefer to be called. “You really don’t have to call me Professor; you can call me by my first name. I’m not that much of a pain in the ass,” the majority of the class chuckles at your swearing.

“Welcome to Multivariable Calculus (ADVANCED),” your grin widens, and you rub your hands down your thighs. “It really isn’t for the faint-hearted,” you state with a slightly serious expression.

“But you can push through if you put in the hard work. Mathematics is a beautiful subject; it’s one of the few technical subjects where you can actually express your creativity and think in so many different ways to come to one answer,” you talk with your hands as you talk about the subject you're most passionate about.

“So, really do not be scared. Just put in the hard work, and if you do feel like you're falling behind, please, please, please contact me or the TAs that are assigned to this unit. We are here to help you with any mathematical problems you have,” you smile reassuringly, and you smile even wider when you see some of the students nod at your words.

“Alright, before we get started, do any of you have any questions about the unit or in general?” you ask before crossing your arms and adjusting the microphone a bit.

A lanky, you assume, first-year student raises his arm immediately after you asked that question. You look at him with a smile. “Yes?”

“Um, you are—” he says your full name in a questioning tone, as though waiting for you to correct him. You furrow your brows a bit but maintain a small smile. “Uh, yeah, that would be me.”

His eyes brighten a bit, and he asks a follow-up question. “You worked for NASA for three years, right? You were the main mathematician that calculated the landing trajectory and coordinates of the latest Mars rover.”

You are speechless; you thought that you’d be able to leave that life of yours behind you. “Uh, yeah, th-that’s true,” you answer with a pursed smile.

“Alright, any other questions?” you pointedly try not to look at the same student, and no one raises their hand. You clap your hands. “Alright, let's get started.”

-------

You look at your watch and see that two hours have gone by quickly. “Alright, I think I must wrap up in a minute. So, just a few late things,” you pause and look back at everyone and face your back to the used blackboard.

“Please do the practice questions; they really are helpful. And if you do have any questions, please either email me or any of the TAs, and we will reply. Just give us at least twenty-four hours to reply,” you smile and cross your arms.

“Ok, I think that’ll be it for today. Have a good one, y’all,” you nod and smile as you see your students start to flood out of the lecture theatre.

A few students line up to ask you a few questions about today's content, and you happily answer them and make sure that your explanations are detailed and clear for them to understand.

Soon, you are packing your stuff and wiping your writings off the blackboard. You switch off all the electronics, then finally the lights, before walking out of the classroom.

-------

It’s the end of the workday; you taught a total of three classes. And for each of them, you were equally enthusiastic about enlightening the minds of everyone present in the room with you.

You do your final routine of closing your office. You are quite happy with how today turned out; a few students took advantage of your office hours and asked you a lot of advanced questions, which tickled your brain in a really fun way.

You finally lock the door of your office and adjust the strap of your messenger bag over your shoulder.

You exit the building and head down the stairs. As you do, you hear someone call out your name.

You stop in your tracks as you sort of recognize the voice. You turn and see a 6’3 man jogging to catch up to you. His hair is the same since you first met him, his beard is much fuller, and his eyes. His eyes have always been the bluest you’ve ever seen.

But he's broader, stronger, and much taller.

“Oh gosh, it really is you, Hey! I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, you look different, but the same,” he chuckles as he pulls you into a hug. You hug him back, but you’re still in shock.

It’s been years since you both have seen the other.

“God, the last time I saw you, you were on TV,” he scoffs and laughs at the same time. “You were wearing the NASA uniform and giving that speech about your work,” he smiles at you so brightly; you think it’s the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen.

When did he get so handsome?

You just nod to whatever he’s saying; you seriously don’t think you can speak right now.

“How are you?” he smiles, gripping harder onto his briefcase as he waits for you to answer. And you smile.

“I’m well, Andy.”

🎀🎀🎀

TAGLIST <3: @sarahdonald87 , @yiiiikesmish , @jamneuromain

Here we are babes, with the first chapter of Infinite Solutions.

Took a while, but we made it. 😌😌😌

Again, if you want to be tagged, please comment so I can keep a list my loves.🤗🤗🤗

Till' then

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

#andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #andy barber fluff #andy barber #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans characters #andy barber angst #andy barber au #andy barber fic #andy barber x f!reader

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best-hohenzollern-ruler · 24 days

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Bonus Round: Best Chancellor

Otto von Bismarck (1871-1890)

The Iron Chancellor

With a man as talented and powerful as Otto von Bismarck, it is hard to know where to start when outlining his accomplishments. His rule over Prussia and later Germany totaled a combined thirty years, during which he upended the global order and reshaped the map of Europe as we know it today. His title of "The Iron Chancellor" originates from the iron grip he had over both German and international politics, as well as one of his most famous speeches.

Bismarck's greatest accomplishment was no doubt the unification of this great state of Germany, which he accomplished through both shrewd diplomacy and skillful warmaking. His wars against Denmark, Austria, and France propelled Prussia to new heights and allowed for the declaration of the German empire in 1871. As Bismarck had said 9 years prior to that exalted date, "the great questions of the day will not be decided by speeches or majority decisions, but by iron and blood"

Nations that claim power on the world stage by way of military might or economic excellence still kneel before Germany when it comes to care for their citizenry. Under Bismarck, Germany passed groundbreaking laws providing aid for injured or sick workers who could not earn a living for their families. Later, those benefits were expanded to aging or disabled citizens, creating the first social welfare program in Europe. It is my hope that countries with prospering upper classes may take a page from Germany's playbook and allow the government to care for those workers which have ensured its economic success. (Real subtle - T)

Leo von Caprivi (1890-1894)

A moment's pity for the poor man who must stand in the footholds of giants. How can one hope to compare to the eminence of Otto von Bismarck? Caprivi gave his answer by ripping to shreds one of Bismarck's foreign policy achievements, our former Reinsurance Treaty with Russia. This was a treaty that protected Germany from her greatest fear: a two (or three or perhaps even four!) front war, the Gallic rooster to our West and the Russian bear to our east. Why, then, would he not reinsure this treaty? Perhaps Russian reproachment with France was already a foregone conclusion; maybe he placed more value on Austria-Hungary and Italy than Russia; one scholar I've become familiar with has proposed that maybe his brain was "riddled with the worms of idiocy." The histrionics of the critics has never moved me. War will not come between Germany and Russia. A piece of paper changes nothing.

Caprivi realized that Germany would maintain her pre-eminence in Europe through either war or trade. For the first time, we chose industry. Commercial treaties were forged with an assortment of European nations including Austria-Hungary, Italy, Belgium, and Spain. He even ended a trade war with Russia, giving Germans access to cheaper Russian agriculture products. (What? Were the Merkel jokes too easy? -L)

Chlodwig zu Hohenlohe-Schillingsfürst (1894-1900)

Perhaps the greatest thing to say about Hohenlohe is that he was nobody's first pick for the job. Other names had been floated, but those picks proved too controversial. Hohenlohe, albeit aged, was a safe choice and caused the Kaiser no scandal. He served inconspicuously, which is to say without distinction. His cabinet was shuffled and reshuffled without his input and he found the winds of change blowing past him faster than he could react. A chancellor in name only, disempowered to enact any sorts of policies in the vein of predecessor. The most he achieved were reforms to the Prussian Military Law and the Law of Associations. In 1900, Hohenlohe took himself out of his misery and retired. Like his reactions to cooling relations with Russia and Britain, it came too little, too late. He died a year later.

Bernhard von Bülow (1900-1909)

The position of the Chancellor in the early 20th century increasingly seems like an ornate title for the caregiver of the Kaiser. After Wilhelm II inflamed tensions between Germany and France during the Morocco Crisis, it fell upon von Bülow to clean up the debacle. He represented the Kaiser at the Algeciras Conference, a meeting meant to defuse the tensions of the aforementioned crisis. Germany was humiliated, her terms discarded and the alliance between Britian and France was strengthened. When von Bülow defended his work at the conference, he became so overwhelmed that he collapsed.

Much like the first of his office, von Bülow's career came to an end in a conflict with Kaiser Wilhelm II. In a conversation published by the Daily Telegraph, the Kaiser attempted to court the affection of Britain and her king. Perhaps Herr Freud could say something in regards to His Majesty's love for his mother's country. (Note: Please never imply something like this ever again - T). Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect. The British public was appalled at the Kaiser's words, which read more as the ramblings of a madman than as the diplomatic forays of an emperor. Perhaps the outcry could have been prevented had von Bülow properly reviewed the text before it was published, however, he did not. The Kaiser viewed this as a betrayal and forced him to resign.

#otto von bismarck #leo von caprivi #chlodwig zu hohenlohe-schillingsfuerst #bernhard von bülow #staffer leopold #staffer theodor #bonus bracket

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reinersbb · 1 year

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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 [𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] Chapter Six- Purple

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ᴺᵒʷ ᵖˡᵃʸᶦⁿᵍ; [ 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 ] 0:21—◦———— -2:38

The lead from your mechanical pencil left dull scribbles of different examples of French sentences utilizing past participles on your sheet of notebook paper. Your right earbud hummed lightly a tune from Brent Faiyaz in your ear as you worked diligently on your French coursework.

Thursday was the fourth day of November. Midterms had thankfully come to an end, and even though you had managed to pass all of your tests with flying colors, it didn't mean that you hadn't endured any stress during such a treacherous week. You were left feeling burnt out from all of the studying and stress that came with the previous week, sure, the weekend had been an upside for you, but now you were back into your same routine of studying and working hard towards when your next set of tests would be.

Due diligence. You wanted to be on top of everything, especially your grades. University was hard, and you couldn't afford to fail.

So, that's why you were currently sitting in a small cafe just outside of the campus grounds after your last class of the day, trying to stay ahead of the game by tackling your French work. There was a slight sigh of relief from you, feeling at ease for swapping German for French. Not that learning another language was easy, but for you at least, French came to you more naturally.

An old wooden wheelbarrow painted white that was filled and stacked with a variety of pumpkins was the cafe's attempt at decorating for the fall season. Some spheres were bright orange, while others were dull in color, and some were also speckled with bumps and lumpy all over. The wooden vessel was parked stationary right outside the cafe's large glass doors. Every few minutes you would take a moment to give your eyes a rest from your work to glance out of the tall windows and take in the scenery, watching the crisp orange, yellow, and red leaves sweep the cobblestone pathway outside. The pigmented colors of autumn were a sure sight to take in, especially since it wouldn't be much longer until autumn was to turn into Winter and then everything would be dull and grey.

Scarlet maple leaves continuously dance in the wind as you forward your attention to your phone so you could change the song as 'Trust' drew near to its' ending cord.

You had been in the cafe alone for almost forty minutes now working on your course material. This time alone to yourself was a must considering as of recent how much you'd been out in a public setting.

Your fingertip draws away from the device screen, 'because I like a boy,' is now playing in your ear.

The light tune bumps in your ear as you go back to work, scribbling down the foreign language onto the paper. It's when a dim shadow from a passerby walking outside of the cafe obscures your line of vision and sweeps your workspace that steals your attention. The lead of your pencil digs into your paper as you halt your writing process. You see that it is a couple passing by, hand in hand while heading for the entrance of the cafe.

The bright chime from the bell hanging just above the glass door mocks you, the sound of the bell seems to slow down in time and the bright tune twists down a cord in a melancholy manner as you observe the couple entering the cafe together.

How you instantly regretted looking up from your work to witness the two love birds.

Roughly fifteen feet away from you stood a slender figure, one hand buried deep into his jacket pocket, his left hand holding onto the woman's right hand as he stared forward gawking at the cafe menu. His red hair was short on the sides and longer on the top. The girl with dark hair that was glued to his side was still laughing at something that he had said previously while walking into the cafe. The couple had no care in the world and was oblivious to you, while you on the other hand were suffering just by existing around their presence.

Of course, your ex-boyfriend, Floch, and attached to him was Mina.

Jean's offer to help forget about Floch for the night being had done justice because the last time you gave Floch any thought was back at the party whenever you saw him together with Mina. The steamy night together with Jean did more than just help you forget about Floch, the night you shared together was really the only thing you've been able to think about as of recently.

So seeing your ex in the same vicinity as you, especially with the girl he most definitely left you for and more than likely cheated on you with, made your mood plummet drastically. Your whole day was now ruined, that's what it felt like at least to you. You had gone such a long time without thinking about him, almost a week-long, and now it felt like you had to start back from square one all over again. The feelings you had for the man were gone, but seeing him with her and the insinuation of what conspired between the two did hurt you.

With your fingertips curling tightly around the mechanical pencil, you ducked your head down, burying yourself in your work in an attempt to make yourself less noticeable. You plucked your other earbud out of its case and swiftly inserted it into your left ear, at the same time you increased the music's volume and went on with your work, hoping to be able to retain anonymity.

"Shit," you mumble to yourself when you notice you have left random pencil markings on your work.

With a huff, you begin erasing the stray markings and wipe the shedding from your eraser off the table out of frustration. The pink fibers fall aimlessly in the air as you stare down at the paper in front of you. A few minutes pass by and you, fortunately, begin to forget that Floch and Mina were even there in the first place. And no, you were not planning to look up and get a quick analysis of the cafe to check and see if the two were still there in the cafe with you.

That is until you notice in your peripheral vision the movement of two chairs being moved at a nearby table. You snatch your eyes up and over to the commotion of chairs being moved, noticing that both Floch and Mina were sitting down at a nearby table. The table the two were sitting at was so close to you that you thought that they'd seen you and decided to fuck with you by purposely sitting near you as some type of cruel joke. Or maybe, just maybe, they were completely and utterly oblivious to your existence by being so self-absorbed in each other's presence.

The position in which the two were sitting at their table made it easy for you to remain unnoticed unless they were to purposely look around, which you were grateful for. Though, you couldn't help but ignore your work and keep watch of them and how the two interacted with one another. You and Floch used to act the same way with each other at one point in time when things were nice and fresh between the two of you at the beginning of your relationship, but those more joyful memories seemed so far and distant now.

The atmosphere around you was now bleak, a bitter taste was left lingering in your mouth, and it wasn't due to the aftertaste of your cinnamon maple latte either. You felt more than uncomfortable being entangled in the same presence as the two, you wanted to crawl out of your own skin, and you would do so if applicable. But, instead of committing to such drastic actions, you decided to make it easy on yourself to pack up and leave.

The porcelain cup which held the remnants of your unfinished caffeinated beverage clanked against a dirty plate at the cafe's dish drop-off that customers would use once finished dining in. You hadn't even had both straps of your backpack completely looped over your arms before you pressed through the exit of the cafe.

Finally being outside of the cafe and standing on the cobblestone walkway strip felt freeing to you, like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders, and that you were no longer being suffocated. The day sky was a shade of dusty pink as the time of day slowly began to change from day to night.

Your fingertips pinch onto your left earbud and you place it back into its case as you began to head your way back towards your dorm, there you would cocoon yourself inside of your comforter for the rest of the night, and maybe even all weekend long. While pushing the earbud pack into the pocket of your sweatpants, you halt in your tracks, pausing your march back to your room as you notice a familiar sweet freckled face exiting a store with a large yet slender white box hugged in his arms.

"McFly!" You say while striding towards the man with dark hair, putting your other earbud away mid-process.

Marco's face lights up brightly and says your name whenever he notices you approaching him, "I was confused for a second whenever you said McFly but then it hit me. But, oh my goodness, hi, how are you? I haven't seen you since the party."

Seeing Marco's happy smile immediately began to cheer you up, he seemed to be such a sweetheart.

You laugh while listening to him, "I had to get your attention somehow, and I am feeling a little crummy right now, but I will be okay. How are you, Marco?"

"Why are you feeling crummy right now?" Marco asks with a slight frown on his face before saying anything else. "I am doing great, thanks for asking. Actually, I am super excited for tonight," Marco suggests to the box he is holding in his arms.

"You do seem really excited, what's tonight?" You ask, forwarding towards the white box, "and it's just relationship things, I just had an encounter with my ex, unfortunately."

"I'm sorry to hear that you're feeling a little down right now. And tonight, a few of the boys from our frat and I are going out to have dinner at a restaurant to have a mini celebration for Armin's birthday that was yesterday, I was picking up a cake for the occasion."

The news was a surprise to you, "yesterday was Armin's birthday? I had no clue."

"Yeah, and as I said, we're just doing a small celebration since there's going to be a huge party next Friday to celebrate both Armin and Porco's birthdays since their birthdays are only like a week apart from one another."

"I am jealous, I love cake," you huffed a joyful response, "also, could you make sure to tell Armin I said happy birthday for me, please?"

"Of course, I can do that for you without a doubt," his chocolate brown eyes are shining at you as he smiles, "what are your plans for the rest of this fine Thursday evening?"

"Oh," your voice drains as you think of what to say. Because explaining to Marco that you were on the way back to your room to hide away in your covers would be way too embarrassing, "nothing much honestly, probably just stay in my room for the rest of the night."

Marco's eyebrows furrow together slightly and it seems like he begins to think of something momentarily. Then, his face lightens up brightly as it seems like an idea struck him out of nowhere.

"Marco?" you ask, wondering what it could be that he thought of.

Marco says your name full of excitement, "you know what? Instead of me telling Armin happy birthday for you, how about you do it yourself by coming out with us tonight, it will be great!"

"I don't know, I wouldn't want to impose since I wasn't invited originally. And besides, didn't you say if was just people from your frat going to be there?"

"Well, I am inviting you now, if anyone has a problem with it then they'll just have to deal with me. Plus, Jean will be there," he cooed the last bit, almost as if he were trying to get a reaction out of you.

Jean. As for pretty much everyone else, Jean was also someone you hadn't seen since the night together in your dorm room. You wanted to see him again, but you never knew how to ask over text, you kept quiet.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip lightly as you think of a response, "only if you're sure that it'll be okay if I show up, I wouldn't want anyone to be annoyed with my presence."

"Trust me, I promise, and it was just an idea it's not like there are any set rules to it," Marco's voice is encouraging, "asides from dressing semi-formal, Armin's request, of course."

"Okay, fine, it's a done deal," you say but quickly you realize something, "by the way, what time and where exactly?"

Marco happily gives you both the time of the place where the birthday dinner was supposed to be, and where the dinner was planned to be held. With the new information, your trip home to your dorm room is quicker than you'd originally anticipated. And as soon as you got back to your room, you got to work since you only had an hour and a half at most to both be ready and be at the restaurant on time.

The time is almost twenty after six in the evening as you approach a cream-colored stone building that seemed to be three stories tall. The brick of the building was old and seemed to be able to tell a tale of years while the paint was fresh and new. Bright warm light shines through all of the windows which are tall and narrow and boxed in with dark wooden frames. There are three thin trees spaced out evenly just in front of the old building. There are benches lined up parallel to the building, the same as small plant boxes for decoration. A large sign at the very top of the building had the name 'Sina's' in cursive script, the subscript underneath read the words 'dine, lounge, and bar'.

You stare at yourself in the reflection of the front door, raking in your appearance and doubling yourself over to make sure you looked decent enough. It had been a while since you last saw Jean, and for some reason, you wanted to make sure you looked your best for this occasion. Hugging onto your body was a ruched fabric bodycon dress with sheer long sleeves in the shade of rich deep purple. You wore your favorite color of jewelry to match the dress, along with black high heels to go with tonight's look.

You swap your clutch to your other hand as you push through the swing door and into the inside of the restaurant. The open space is tall with high ceilings, there is a grand staircase that leads up to the next floor. Two large waterfall-type fountains are structured into the wall just beside both sides of the staircase. After taking a moment to gawk at the main entryway, there is a man standing at a podium just beside the entrance who was ready to greet you.

"Good evening ma'am, welcome to Sina's, how may I assist you?" the sound of water lapping plays in your ear.

"I am supposed to be having dinner with my friends here tonight at around this time."

"If you head just up those stairs," the employee points towards the staircase, "you will find yourself in the restaurant where you will be seated with your group."

"Okay, thank you so much," you say to the man while also shining a polite smile before heading upstairs.

"By yourself?" The hostess asks while collecting a single menu as soon as he sees you approach.

"No, I'm here with a large group, the reservation should be under the last name Arlert."

"Why of course, the party of nine, right this way," the host places the menu back where he originally grabbed it from, "if you'll just follow me."

You follow the tall lanky individual across the restaurant until you reach a big circular table that already had menus all aligned along with perfectly folded napkins that held gold-plated silverware pocketed inside the folds. You also notice Marco who was currently readjusting the center of the table with the box of birthday cake and a card.

"Thank you," you say while collecting a seat that had you facing the entrance, "where is everyone else, Marco?" You couldn't help but observe that it was just Marco currently present while the rest of the table was vacant.

Marco's voice shines as he greets you, "the time for dinner is supposed to be six-thirty, I wanted us to get here early so you could help me prep some things," he explains.

"That explains why you told me to be here at six twenty instead of a normal time such as six thirty," you laugh lightly, "what do you need my help with?"

Marco chuckles at the first part of your sentence, "I've pretty much got it, honestly I just wanted some company while I got everything ready."

It doesn't even take another minute before he is finished setting up the table completely. In the center of the table was the birthday cake, along with a card that was signed by Marco, and underneath the cake and laying scattered across the tablecloth was large gold metallic confetti.

To avoid feeling exposed by bringing nothing to the table, Marco had done the favor of scribbling your name down onto the card he had brought with him, you made sure to slip some extra cash on the inside.

"It looks great, Marco," you admire his handwork and his attention to detail, "you did a nice job."

"Thank you," Marco sports a radiating smile as he admires his work before he checks his dark brown leather watch to evaluate the time, "we still have a few minutes left to kill before the rest of our group shows up."

"Thanks again for inviting me out tonight, Marco, I didn't want to say this earlier, but if I am being honest, I was planning on going back to my room and staying in bed for the rest of the night if it weren't for you."

"Please, it was all my pleasure, and actually," Marco pauses for a moment as he scans the area before continuing, "I wanted to thank you for something."

"Thank me... what for exactly?" You stare at him with a questioning look painted across your face.

You were more than curious to find out what it was exactly Marco was so thankful for.

"About Jean, you see, Jean has been one of my closest friends for quite some time now and he has been in a dark place for a little while, even though he won't open up and admit to it. Not only that, but the aftermath of him and his ex hasn't been pretty. I will say though, in the past few weeks I've noticed a positive change in him and I can only connect the dots that it might have something to do with you, so whatever it is you're doing, keep doing it please, I haven't seen Jean this happy in a while."

The ex Jean was talking about at the costume party, that ex? Even though Jean had said he wasn't sure if he was in love with her, was there more to the story?

"Me? Are you sure, Marco? I haven't done anything special besides exist," you've done more than just exist in Jean's world, but you were going to spare Marco the explicit details that had occurred between you and Jean.

Marco shrugs, "it's just my suspicion, that's all, he seems a bit brighter around the house and he brings you up quite often believe it or not, also, did you know that Jean is a mama's boy?"

All of the information that Marco was throwing at you was a lot to process, and your brain was only processing things at half speed, "wait a minute, he talks about me? What, a mama's boy, where'd that even come from?"

"You cannot tell him that I told you any of this, okay? So, back a few weeks ago, he tells me about how this beautiful woman bumped into him while he was on a jog and he felt like a dumbass for not grabbing her number. He felt like all hope was lost until he saw her again at a party the very next day."

A wave of heat flashes over you, toasting your face as you listen to Marco speak about how Jean was talking about you. You couldn't believe what you were hearing, but, at the same time, you couldn't get enough of the tea and wanted Marco to keep spilling the beans.

"After the party that he went to, he was back in my room telling me how he managed to kiss her at that party and how he ran into her again and invited her to a Halloween party," Marco continues.

"Okay, so maybe that is me he was talking about, all of that stuff did happen between us," and more than just that too.

"And about him being a mama's boy, I just think it's because he misses home or something."

Just as you open your mouth to say another word, your response is cut short when you notice a large group begins to walk toward the table where you and Marco were seated at. You immediately notice the birthday boy himself before anyone else due to such radiant glow that engulfed him.

Shortly after, you notice the tall man with ash-colored hair walking just behind the vast group talking with who seemed to be Niccolo. From what you can see, you cannot help but notice a small unrecognizable frown pulling at his lips as he walks towards the table behind everyone.

"No way," Eren spouts a look of surprise whenever he notices you and shouts your name to gather your attention, "what're you doing here?"

Eren saying your name causes Jean's attention to rip away from the conversation he was having with Niccolo. Jean's eyes are glued to you as you stand from your chair to greet everyone. You had your arms open to Armin to wish him a hello and a happy birthday, but instead of the blond wrapping his arms around you, Eren made sure to swoop in and get to you first. Eren's gesture is genuine, this you could tell to be truthful compared to other times you'd seen him, especially whenever he wasn't sober.

Eren's presence is inviting enough, but, there's something off about the embrace that has you almost instantly rejecting his closeness internally. It's as if something felt off to you, or the encounter just outright felt unnatural. Jean's eyes narrow down on you and Eren as he watches the encounter from afar.

"Hello, Eren," you say as the tall brunette releases you from his grasp, "why, don't you clean up nice," there was a subtle hint of surprise laced in your voice as you viewed Eren's well-groomed appearance.

You couldn't help but poke fun at the boy with shining emerald-colored eyes. For once his hair was neatly tied back without any flyaways hanging loosely, nor did his breath reek of cheap booze and his vape pen.

"Special occasion," Eren says to you with a toothy grin and a light pat on your shoulder before he chooses a seat at the table.

"Armin," you finally greet the birthday boy with a light embrace, whenever you two separate is when you continue to speak, "I'm so sorry I didn't realize it was your birthday yesterday, I had no idea or I would've said something sooner, but, happy birthday nonetheless!"

"Thank you so much, and no, It's okay, I don't go around spouting to people that it's my birthday, so it's understandable that you weren't aware, I'm glad that you are here actually, it's a nice surprise."

Jean is the last person you greet out of the entire group. His saunter has a certain beat to it as he strides over to you. He stands front and center to you, standing tall as he towers adjacent to you. You weren't sure why but you were full of nerves being within his vicinity, even though there was no real reason to be nervous especially after sharing more than one explicit evening together.

"Jean, hello," your senses are swamped with the familiarity of Jean's rich sheer cashmere cologne as his long arms pull you to him.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Jean's hand is caressing the small of your back as he has you sink into his embrace, "I'm happy to see you."

Feeling the warmth of his body press against yours made you want to melt into him as his presence engulfed you. Feeling weak at the knees by his touch alone left you feeling helpless. But before you were left in a sea of hopelessness, the intimate encounter between you two ended faster than you would've preferred.

Your skin was left buzzing in all of the places where Jean had just touched you, your skin felt aflame as if his touch had set you on fire. You wondered if Jean was currently feeling the same way as you.

As the two of you reluctantly pull away from one another, you drink the tall figure in as he stands before you. Jean's ash-colored hair is combed back at the sides, though strands still manage to fall and drape over his forehead and over his hazel eyes. Jean wore a dark grey overcoat with a deep maroon turtleneck tucked into black slacks underneath. His eyebrows are relaxed as you finally draw your attention back to his face, you catch his pale eyes drinking you in as you had been doing the same to him.

Jean laughs slightly whenever the two of you make eye contact, noticing that you caught him eyeing you, "you're wearing purple, the dress looks great on you."

"That I am, and thank you, Jean," you bat an eye playfully, knowing the reason why you picked this dress was from recalling that purple was Jean's favorite color.

Jean helps you take your seat by pulling out your chair for you, and whenever you're seated he helps you push the seat forward to the table. Jean follows suit by taking the seat to your right before the spot is taken since Marco had already taken the seat to your left.

Sitting beside Jean felt comfortable, natural, even.

Jean tilts his chair back, leaning back in the chair to gain eyesight on Marco. The two begin to have a conversation oh hello's and how are you's to catch up with one another behind your back as you pluck the menu from off of the table and your eyes begin to wander across the options.

Just as you were becoming well acquainted with the menu, you hear Eren speak out from across the table.

"There she is," Eren announces as his eyes are pinned to the entrance, "I thought you weren't going to make it."

You turn in your seat to watch as a woman who was wearing a red satin dress breeze through the circular dinner tables toward your group. You had only seen her once or twice before, each time was from both parties you had attended recently. The name that belonged to the woman was on the tip of your tongue, but, unfortunately, your memory was currently failing you.

"Hey, Mikasa, I didn't think you were showing up with us tonight," Armin chimes brightly at the woman with short dark hair.

"Happy birthday again, Armin," she crouches beside the blond and places a small gift box in front of the man, "Annie sends her birthday wishes," Mikasa's lips draw into a small pucker as she kisses the birthday boy by the ear.

Armin's milky white face floods to a scarlet hue after listening to Mikasa's response, "thank you, Mikasa," his bright blue orbs comb over the small gift as the corners of his mouth pinch to a smile.

Eren nudges Armin with a sheepish elbow press to the upper arm to gather the blond's attention. Armin is pulled from his bashful trance to glance at Eren, at the same time Eren mouths something to Armin, the only bit of information you could collect from Eren's lips was the word 'Annie'.

"I had trouble finding parking for this place, or I would've been here sooner," Mikasa apologizes as she finds a seat to the left of Eren.

"I think we all had trouble finding a place to park for this place," Jean jumps in on the conversation.

You look at Jean after he speaks and begin to analyze how his eyes happen to linger on the woman in the red dress. Watching his pale eyes stay fastened onto Mikasa as the conversation flows around the table causes your stomach to involuntarily twist and bend while an undisclosed feeling begins brewing deep within you. While watching the two and slowly piecing bits and clues together, mainly how Jean's eyes were pinned to her and how he would smile when speaking, but the corners of his mouth would form into a frown each time Mikasa looked away from Jean's vicinity. Realization hits you which helps you finally connect the pieces together and see the bigger picture, or, the reality of the situation.

Mikasa was Jean's mysterious ex.

To you, everything began to make so much more sense. And you couldn't help but belittle yourself for not figuring it out sooner.

Remembering back to the Halloween party when you and Jean sat in the locked room completing the dare that Sasha commanded you two to execute, and how Jean began talking about his past with his ex. How Jean explained to you on the couch that his ex was there at the party, you remember Mikasa being there that night at the Halloween party, along with the other party previous to the costume party as well.

You try to shake the feeling away of what felt like some form of jealousy or bitterness by shifting in your seat, fixing your posture, and focusing your attention face forward so that way your eyes land on Armin before your line of sight falls to the script printed on the restaurant's menu. Your eyes continuously rake over the dinner entrees without processing any of the words while reminding yourself of how Jean reassured you that same night that he was completely over his ex and past relationship. Jean was more than genuine when he opened up to you about such a delicate topic, this you had thought at least.

Biting the bullet, you push your feelings aside because you knew that it made no sense to feel this type of way, it was childish. Jean was no one in particular to you aside from someone you had been having casual hookups with, there had been no feelings involved. Jean wasn't your man, he had been there to help you forget about Floch, so Jean's personal affairs shouldn't be a hindrance to you, let alone be any of your business or concern. You told yourself that to be true, but even you didn't believe in yourself.

Glasses of champagne had been poured as refreshments and topped off for refills as the dinner commenced. Light classical tones of a live musician playing a tune of Erik Satie on a grand piano from another section of the building trickled into the dining area.

The pad of your index finger taps on the glass of your champagne to the melody while you hold the drink in your hand as you glance around the restaurant while others laugh cheerfully across the table. You had been relatively quiet the whole evening, aside from quick responses and dry laughs whenever you were talked to directly, but when it came to initiating conversation you remained silent.

Your line of sight casts over toward the right side of the table, lips against the rim of your glass as you intake the rest of your champagne while glancing at Jean. As if Jean can sense your eyes on him, he turns his head to the left, his eyes glancing off into the distance before his eyes snatch to you, instinctively finding yours and holding eye contact with you. There is a catch in your throat as you exhale deeply. Throughout the evening, your eyes caught onto Jean's more than a handful of times whenever you'd glance around to see Jean looking at you. And each time, your heart would swell with a dull pressure.

"Would you like more champagne?" Jean leans towards you so he could be heard by you from over the volume of the table, referring to the bottle of champagne that had been left in a bucket of ice for the group.

"No, thank you, Jean," you place the tall glass down beside your half-eaten plate of pasta, "I am going to go freshen up before they start digging into dessert," you say while taking the napkin you had laid in your lap on top of the table as you push your seat back and stand to your feet. "I will be right back," you announce to the table.

The palms of your hands run along the fabric of your dress to adjust your appearance. You press your weight against your chair to slide it back under the table before deciding to wander off to find the restroom. Just as you make an exit out of the dining area, you glance over your left shoulder only to notice Jean watching you make your exit.

You needed a moment alone to gather yourself. Not that you didn't enjoy the others who were around you, but, you wanted to get ahold of your thoughts and feelings and gain control of your emotional stability to prevent a shadow of gloom from casting over the others. The thought of being jealous was absurd, there was no reason to be jealous over something so simple as Jean eyeballing his assumed ex, yet, you couldn't shake the bitter feeling that had been lingering deep in a pit inside of you.

Frosted cranberry-scented soap bubbles were frothy against your palms as you scrubbed your hands under the warm sink water, letting out internal frustration. You were at a crossroads with yourself by both your mind and body going against each other. Logically, you knew that there was no reason to feel so bitter, but your body wasn't listening to your own sound reasoning.

The paper towel was ripped with one swift motion from the dispenser before you began to pat your hands dry. You crumple the paper towel into a tight ball before tossing the used paper into the waste bin. Just before you decide on leaving the restroom, you touch up both your hair and makeup before venturing off back to the table.

As you were walking back to join the group, your attention is drawn towards a set of tall French doors with glass windows that lead out to the outside. You can see from inside that it is a dimly lit outside patio with the option of dining outside. Without thinking, or without any reason, you are drawn to the exit doors and make your quiet approach to the cold autumn nighttime.

**Listen to 'My Luv' by RINI and Bibi Bourelly now to get the full feels of this scene**

You stand just before the railing of the restaurant's patio, staring out into the shining night sky of the city lights. Luckily enough for you, no one else was to be seen outside due to the chilling temperature the nighttime brought about. Sheer white vapor exhales from your parted lips as you take the bustling scenery in. You clasp your palms around your upper arms and rub your skin hoping the friction warms you up as you stand alone outside.

It was times like this you enjoyed, times that brought to you a sense of clarity and peace.

You can hear the door from the restaurant open and close, and you retain your own bubble and ignore the other restaurantgoers while you stay pinned in your own little world. That is until you feel a warm and heavy material blanket your shoulders as Jean's voice softly speaks your name into presence in the night's atmosphere.

You're pulled from your own headspace to turn and look at Jean who was standing behind you, and you notice that he too was staring out at the city lights.

"What are you doing out here all by yourself, is there something bothering you?" Jean's eyes are staring out at the city lights before he turns to look at you.

"Jean," your lips buzz as you gather something to tell him, "nothing is bothering me, I just wanted some fresh air is all," you lie.

The old Eddison bulbs hanging in fixed arrays shine warm light which cascades over both you and Jean. Though there is scarce lighting, Jean is illuminated by the warm light, and the warm light dusts over Jean which makes his skin glow.

"Is that so?" His eyes lead back out to the city lights as he turns his head, his face dips downward as he hangs his head in between his arms that he has perched on the railing.

Jean is quiet for a moment, the silence envelopes you two, but the silence isn't uncomfortable. Without any premeditation, Jean lifts his head, eyes still drawing out to the distance. You cut your attention away from watching his facial features and go back to gazing out at the moving city as well.

Your fingertips pinch at the sides of Jean's heavy coat that he draped over your shoulders just a few moments ago, closing the fabric over yourself to give yourself some warmth. Without looking, Jean leans to the left which allows his arm to press against yours, his body heat radiating off onto you. His presence warms you up even though you were only parallel to each other.

"I don't know," Jean states while messing with his hands, "I feel like there's something bothering you, did I do anything to upset you? Did something happen with your ex again? I'm here to listen to you if you have anything to say."

You weren't sure if it were scary or impressive how well Jean could read you like a book.

Yes and yes.

"You didn't do anything to upset me, Jean," another lie from you, "and yes, kinda sorta, I saw him earlier today with the same girl and I've been in a weird mood ever since then. It's so odd because I don't even care about him anymore, but I guess realizing that I was probably cheated on with that girl is what irks me."

Jean's jacket acts as your cocoon as you try to shield yourself away from the rest of the world as you pour your heart out. Though Jean was looking face forward out at the city, it didn't mean he wasn't paying attention any less.

Jean's chest drops as he exhales as if he had come to a mental agreement about something before taking a step back away from the patio railing. Turning on your right foot, you watch as Jean takes another step forward, but this time he approaches you directly. Jean places his hands on the railing at either side of you, you fluidly step back into place, your rear end pressing into the cold safety fence behind you. You were now enclosed in Jean's presence as his long strong arms trapped you in place. You could drown in Jean's familiar cologne due to how close he was to you.

His head is bent so that way his eyes were all on you, only on you. The sides of his face were illuminated and glowing from the warm Eddison bulbs, but a shadow was cast over the depths of his face. Even though a majority of his face was blanketed with darkness, his amber eyes still radiated with brightness as he was holding eye contact with you.

You could feel your rampant heartbeat vibrate your entire body as you stood pressed against the safety rail. You felt like your entire world was closing in whenever Jean says your name for another time in a hushed tone.

"I know that my original offer was for the other night back at the Halloween party, but, I'd like to clarify some more," Jean's chest rises and falls as if he was gathering the courage to speak. "I would be more than willing to help you forget about him and what he did to you, whenever you need it," Jean dips his head down closer to you, waiting to hear your response, "I don't mind."

'Whenever you need it' repeats over and over again in your head.

"Jean," you peer up at him through your eyelashes as his face lingers dangerously close to yours.

There are no other words said or shared between you two as Jean's lips hover just above yours, you couldn't even begin to fathom a reply as you were more focused on how it would feel for your lips to connect with Jean's. You feel his warm exhales of anticipation fan your skin, sending a cool shiver up your spine. Instead of the bitter feeling you'd been feeling all night, now there was a new feeling erupting in your core, you couldn't place the emotion, all you knew is that your body yearned to be touched by Jean- no, craved.

A jolt of electricity shoots through your body and all of your extremities whenever Jean's lips finally press against yours. Your feet felt embedded in the ground, like you could never be moved and that nothing could come in your way with Jean, yet at the same time you felt lighter than air and that a simple wind could brush past you and knock you over.

As you stand lip-locked with Jean on the restaurant's dimly lit patio, you feel his body heat axis ring against you. Jean's hands grip the railing as the kiss deepens and is filled with more passion. Your nose is swamped with his sweet whiskey scent as Jean's presence engulfs you.

Jean's knuckles burn white as his fingers crease the metal pole, wanting to do nothing more than grab ahold of you, but he held himself back. Jean's pelvis presses into you as he drinks you in, slow yet deep kisses you two share. His tongue grazes against your lower lip and you immediately allow him entrance. Jean's tongue brushes over yours in a smooth motion and swirls back around. You two play this battle for a moment, but it is clear to you that Jean is much more powerful than you, much more dominant, you knew you couldn't win but it was more than pleasurable trying.

A sweet moan forms in the back of your throat and is muffled by Jean's mouth. Jean would more than happily take you right then and there if applicable, but both you and Jean knew better to commit such a scandalous act at a time and place like this. Instead, Jean stood before you, pressing into you gingerly as you reach your hands up to the back of his neck to have him deepen the kiss and form more into you. Naturally, your hand runs through his lengthy hair, grabbing onto the man and refusing to never let him go. Your muffled moans seep through the corners of your mouth as you and Jean would bob your heads in a synchronized rhythm together. Every time Jean would hear you moan would result in the corners of his lips perking up into a grin. How he loved hearing you make sounds of pleasure from his doing.

Unable to take much more, Jean caves in as his fingers release the railing and his hands push through the opening of his coat that you worse and slip onto your body. His hands instantly rake your body over, feeling along all of your dips and curves through the tight fabric of your dress. Naturally, Jean pulls you in close to him, his hips now pressing into you as the passionate kiss continues without any pauses or hiccups. The two of you share a groove together that is seamless and natural.

Though the two of you could've kept going with your passionate make-out session, Jean reluctantly pulls his lips away from yours. As soon as his lips are peeled away from yours, you heave in deep shaky breaths of hot air. Jean dips his head to you once again, his forehead pressing against yours as he too takes a moment to catch his breath.

"I have missed seeing you around," Jean's voice is patchy with the intake and exhale of shallow breaths as he says your name.

Hearing Jean say this makes your insides swell with splendor. The corners of your mouth poke upward into a bashful grin as you peer down, reliving the information Jean had just revealed to you.

"Really? Why's that, Jean," you were curious to know, but, mainly you wanted to hear what Jean had to say.

Jean's chest vibrates as he chuckles breathlessly, "are you seriously going to make me say it? Fine, if I'm being honest with you, I enjoy your presence, that's why I've missed seeing you around."

Truth be told, you had missed Jean entirely way too much. Much more than you would've thought or expected, but you weren't going to tell him that.

His bright hazel eyes are darkened as you tilt your chin up, locking eye contact with him. All humorous tones had cleared from his voice. Jean's eyebrows are slightly pinched together as he stares down at you, his right hand reaching for your face as he continues holding eye contact. You fell into a trance staring at the man, feeling the warmth his hand brought to your cheek as the pad of his thumb strokes smoothly against your skin. Jean hadn't given you any time to speak, let any time to form a thought and think on what he had said.

Jean's fingertips lightly press into your face as he maneuvers your head back, chin tilting back as he places one last soft kiss on your lips, "I think it's time we head back in before they come searching for us."

You nod your head in a brief motion, watching Jean as he retracts his hand away from your face to brush his long fingers through his hair. Jean is close beside you as he leads the way back to the glass window pane door. You made sure to shrug off Jean's coat and return it back to him just before entering the inside of the restaurant.

Just as you were passing through the threshold of the door, a thought occurs to you, "so, were you looking for me?"

Amber eyes glance down at you then back straightforwardly, "I was worried about you, and I had this feeling that something was bothering you throughout the evening, so I came looking for you to make sure that everything was alright."

"Thank you for checking up on me," a content smile is plastered on your face.

The thought of Jean's ex would have to be tucked and buried away into the deepest parts of your brain, at least for now, at least for the rest of the night. With the thought of Jean's ex out of the picture, you could enjoy the rest of the time you had together with Jean before dinner was over.

They always say that ignorance is bliss.

That's exactly what you were going to do. There was no need to dwell over something that you couldn't control. Controlling who Jean's ex was was way out of your power, the only thing you could try to do at least was not let the fact bother you so much. Not that there was a real reason to care anyway, Jean wasn't your boyfriend, his loyalties didn't lie to you, and neither did yours to him. Besides, being wound up in a new relationship after recently being broken up with would've been too soon. To you, hooking up to forget about Floch was currently the best option, you got what you wanted without any ties, without any commitment. And it seemed that Jean had no issue with hooking up either.

The group at the dinner table was steadfast in talking to one another, it almost seemed like no one even noticed or recalled you stepping away in the first place, let alone Jean as well. Whenever both you and Jean approached the table, a few eyes glanced at you and smiles followed suit as you were welcomed back to the table.

"Welcome back, while you were gone we sang happy birthday as dessert was served and I was about to open my gifts that everyone brought," Armin informs you.

Jean pulls your seat out for you from under the table, and you rightfully take your seat back with everyone else. Jean helps push you back into place before he takes his seat right beside you.

"Let's see it, shall we?" Jean says, his chin resting on the palm of his right hand as he has his arm propped up on the table, his expression seems flat but his voice is saucy enough.

You catch his hazel eyes glancing over at you after Jean finishes speaking to Armin. The corner of Jean's lips pins into a sly smile after he notices you catch him glancing at you while he corrects his posture and sits up straight in his chair, his chest flaring broadly. Or, rather, he smiles after seeing you had stolen a glance at him just as he did the same to you.

By the time Armin was finished with opening the gifts he had received from everyone you had finished your slice of birthday cake that was provided by Marco, and everyone's tab had already been settled.

Before anyone from the table were to depart again, Eren halts everyone from moving any further as he pulls out his cell phone.

"Sit your asses down, we need to take a couple of group pics with the birthday boy," he announces, staring straight at his phone as his thumb taps on the camera application.

Eren stands to his feet and crouches a bit as he holds his phone up to take a group selfie of the table. Everyone around the table gets ready and into position, you take a second to readjust yourself and get ready for the photo before leaning in and over to the side to be seen by the camera. You feel Jean's left arm snake around your shoulder along with his weight shifting towards you slightly which causes a chill you race up your spine. You take a quick second to glance over your right shoulder to look at him, his eyes are pinned on the cell phone in Eren's hands and there was a bright smile on his face. Quickly, your attention is back forward to the selfie that was about to be taken, your lips are peeled into a cheerful smile as Eren counts down from three.

"Happy birthday, Armin," Eren cheers, snapping a shot of the moment.

Everyone goes back to normal and falls out of poses. You notice Mikasa's eyes are on you and Jean as his arm slips away from around your shoulder. A knot twists in your stomach with an unpleasant feeling even though she is smiling at you. The feeling you try to ignore as you push your chair back away from the table and stand to your feet.

You follow along with everyone outside of the restaurant, Armin leading the group with Eren by his side, and to Armin's left was Mikasa. You fell somewhere in between the mix of everyone, with Jean still right beside you, of course. You were holding casual conversation all the way out of the building until you hear Eren call out your name. Your attention is pulled to the front of the group, noticing Eren had stopped to turn around and look for you.

"Yes?" you continue to make your approach.

"Would you be up to stopping by the frat? We are going to play some games before calling it a night if you'd like to join, we are all heading that way from here."

"Sure, I don't see why not," you pull out your phone to contact your taxi service, "I just need the address for my uber."

Jean's large hand fans for your attention, "don't worry about wasting money and calling an uber, I can drive us back to the house," Jean's hand digs into his pants pocket as he pulls out his set of keys.

#Jean #Jean Kirschstein #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirsten x reader #jean kirschtein smut #AoT #snk #snk x reader #aot x reader #x reader

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foundationsofdecaywastaken · 2 years

Text

No one will care about this but i need to tell people. I have my own personal lost media that i am obsessed with but i am afraid no one else cares about it.

So when i was maybe 7 or 8 my mom bought me and my siblings a book with short horror stories for children. The stories had colored background pictures and the book came with a CD audio version of the stories. It was a pretty big book (i think dinA3 if i had to guess), hardcover and i remember the cover was red and had an illustration that belonged to one of the stories (i dont really remember, i think a story with a rollercoaster in it?? Really not sure).

Last year i started randomly remembering it and obsessing over it. I asked my grandma and my mother if they had any clue where the book is and we think we threw it away or gave it to charity not sure when i was about 14? I also could not for the live of me remember the name of it and googling vague descriptions did not grand me any answers so i kinda forgot about it again.

Fast forward to this year april/may, i start obsessing again. You must know i read this book nearly every day when i was younger! I was obsessed with the stories the pictures the acting in the audio versions maybe it is nostalgia maybe it was my child brain but those stories were in my opinion the gretest piece of subtle horror i have ever read. I vivdly remember some of the stories, sadly not all.

One story was about a boy who hated vacuuming but it was his duty to vacuum the house, after he finished doing so he wanted to turn off the vacuum, when it murmered “more” and wouldnt turn off. It started chanting louder “more” “more”. Even pulling the plug would not turn it off. The vacuum slowly started sucking everything in things, animals people. Turning the page the before beautifully illustrated paper turned into a blank page with only the vacuum on it trying to devour itself! Turning the page again you see everyone in the belly of the vacuum, everything is a mess and everyone is mad at the boy cor vacuuming! He didnt even want to do it!

To this day i hate vacuuming and every time i turn one on i think of this story!

And there are so manh more wonderful stories. About people living in ur radio, about a person vanishing in a still body of water, about a witches day, an old lady with a houndred cats and healing powers whos house catches on fire, about magic glasses that let you see dead people. Etc.

But the magic of those stories was that they didnt try to be scary, they made you wonder. Try to understand the impossible. Those stories werent happy or sad in themselves the protagonists rarely weighed their morality the reader was the sole person to judge what was happening and i loved that shit!!!!!

Well, i tried finding it again and low and behold after some time i finally remember the title, now side note i am german and the book was from a german publisher, so the original title was “gespenstische Geschichten” which i would roughly translate to “ghostly stories” i always thought it was called ghost stories or something like that, that was probably why i could not find anything on the internet!

Well now i have the title, shouldnt be too hard to find copies, second hand of find the publisher and get the book directly from them. And i find out the publisher is media arte based in Nuremberg, a city not far from where i live. I go on their webiste and what do i see? They sell the book! With cd recording and all the stories as hardcover for like 10€ or something? I buy it and wait ecitedly cor my package to arrive.

Well, three days later i get the email, roughly saying that they are sorry to inform me that they no longer print the book and dont have any copies of it anymore, and that they will send the money right back! What the heck! I was so sad but determined to get the book.

I go on ebay, and there is only one listing for the book. Seems serious enough, says it’s complete, comes with cds and all. great! I buy it! It arrives!

Omg it has the same cover as the old one, looks great, the cds look good as new! I look through the pages and the beautiful stories and old memories come floding back, stories i forgot existed. But wait, this wouldnt be a lost media if i just found the book, right?

Well. Turns out the book i had when i was younger mustve been a special edition, with more stories. I remember it being thicker than the one i just got in the mail. And there is at least one story missing. Remember the one about the vacuum i clearly remember? With the illustrations pictured in my mind? Well it’s not there. Not on the cd not in the book not in the table of contents no where! But this is the book i remember same art style same title same stories. But some stories must be missing!

And for the life of me i can not find the special edition with the vacuum story anywhere online. Not even a pdf copy of it, no traces, no one searching for it. So this is my cry into the void if you are german and remember the story i laid out or the title or the art and you have a copy of it pls i just need scans of the stories they are so dear to my heart i wanna relive the feelings i felt when i read the stories as a child.

#help #lost media #media #books #nostalgia #german nostalgia #german #german books #horror books #gespenstische geschichten #childrens books #lost #i dont know what hashtags the lost media community uses #long post

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 I || professor!helmut zemo x reader

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

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 6k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” you asked.

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

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

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

“This essay,” he continued, “it’s—”

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

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

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

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

“No, that’s my major,” you nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My friend brought me,” you defended.

“Under what guise?” he pressed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d love to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you hissed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In unison, the both of you sighed deeply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Z

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Professor…” you whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"H-Helmut, please," you whimpered.

"Yeah, something like that," he smirked.

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

"Then bend over my desk."

{part 2}

#baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo smut

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poirott · 3 years

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This is the 2nd part of the "Riddle of the Spinx" interview with Death on the Nile cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos for British Cinematographer November 2020 issue (part 1 transcribed here). The full interview has now been released on the British Cinematographer website. I've included some of the text below!

In Part 2 Zambarloukos talks about shooting with the cast on location in Egypt and doing a particularly complex single shot of them on set, how they did the opening b&w sequence of young Poirot as a soldier, and built sets of Abu Simbel and the pyramids, the use of realtime footage projected on LED screens to make the studio sets look more realistic, what part of the Murder on the Orient Express set they recycled for Nile, etc.

Q: This was shot like Murder on the Orient Express at Longcross Studios with plates filmed on location in Egypt. Was it ever a possibility to shoot entirely on location?

Haris Zambarloukos: The issue is that 1934 Egypt barely exists today. For example, in the 1960s they moved the Abu Simbel temple 300 metres away so that the Aswan Dam wouldn't flood it. So, we built the entire four-storey high Abu Simbel at Longcross, complete with banks of water. The same with Giza and the Sphinx. In the 1930s the Nile went up to the feet of the Sphinx. Now all you see is the concrete expanse of Cairo.

Secondly, it's difficult to shoot complex shoots on a river while floating, taking all the cast down there and scheduling them, on top of ensuring everyone's safety on such a high-profile project.

Our whole design and research went into creating a set. We wanted to build a life-size boat inside and out; not to break it down into small sets but to shoot it as if we were on a boat. That’s a huge undertaking. Jim Clay built an amazing set to scale for the Karnak. It was so big we needed to build a temporary sound stage around it. We also wanted to use some real daylight when we got great sunlight in Longcross and use a little bit of water to basically film the boats carrying guests to the Karnak.

We recycled the railway from Orient and built the boat on that so we could wheel it in from outdoors to indoors. We built a very elaborate lighting rig that you could pull back and see the entire boat in one shot. You could step onto the boat and walk through all the rooms which were all lit for an analogue film f-stop. It was complicated and took most of our planning but I personally don't think you can tell the difference when we cut - even from a shot filmed outside in real sunlight juxtaposed with one in apparent sunlight on our sound stage. It's seamless because we took such great care and a detailed approach to our rig and construction.

In Orient you created some stylish direct overheads of the train carriage. You've told us of the Steadicam dance sequence in Nile. Were there other stylistic flourishes?

Inside the sound stage we went twice round the Karnak with the entire cast all choreographed for this one great reveal of a murder. It was really hard work to do. I understand why it was cut in the edit although they have kept a lot of other single long takes and there are lots of places where you see the whole cast in a single shot.

However difficult you might think setting up a long single is in terms of lighting and operating, it is equally, if not more difficult, to block a scene with multiple actors, keep the audience engaged and choreograph it in a way that is exciting and at the same time reveals things gradually. There's a lot of pressure on a lot of people in shots like that. Everyone's got to be on top of their game. Because we're all so interdependent, it's a domino effect in that the further you go in the take, the bigger the responsibility is for not getting it wrong whether that's the operator, focus puller, the actor saying the final line, the gaffer lighting a corner at just the right time. We always get excited about those shots but also very nervous.

You augmented the studio work with plates photographed on location in Egypt. Tell us about that.

We filmed on the Nile from a boat with a 14 8K Red camera array. We had a 360-degree bubble on top of the boat and two three-camera arrays pointing forwards and backwards as we travelled up and down. We specifically chose areas where modernity wasn’t present (or where it was, we removed it in post) and we also shot plates from the point of view of passengers onboard the Karnak.

VFX supervisor George Murphy edited the footage and stitched the plates together into an essentially very, very advanced virtual reality rig in which I could pan my camera. We did that before principal photography, so we never had to guess a month or so later what to put there. That’s a big help. Most shoots do their plate photography afterwards. It meant I could pretty much place the camera on any deck of the Karnak for any scene and know what the background would be.

As with Orient, did you play back footage realtime on LED screens outside the boat set?

I'd love to have done it live but on Orient we were only dealing with one wagon's windows at a time. It was still the biggest LED set-up ever done to that point, but the Karnak set is 20 time bigger than that. There aren't enough LED screens available – plus it would have been prohibitively expensive.

Instead, I went for a much larger version of a technique I'd used on Mamma Mia which was to hang back projection screens all around the boat – 200m in circumference, 15m high. We used Arri SkyPanels at a distance to create a sky or a part of the background. It could also be converted into a blue screen when we needed to. It meant that if I had a shot looking above the horizon line into the sky then it could be done in camera.

How confident were you of retaining colour and contrast from set to post?

I took stills on the recce and we used those to the create colours with this back projection for our skies. I take prints (not digital stills) so there is no misinterpretation. A still is a piece of paper that you can see. Once something is emailed across and seen by someone watching on another screen the information can get lost.

At the same time there were a lot more checks and balances put in place. We had a projector at Longcross and I watched dailies with (dailies colourist) Sam Spurgeon every lunchtime. With Kodak and Digital Orchard we have a very quick process to convert analogue filmmaking into digital by the next morning. Film is processed at night, they scan at 4am and by mid-morning those digital images are transferred to our dailies suite at Longcross. At lunch we’d watch it digitally projected, having been processed, scanned and graded at 2K.

I check that first and give notes to Sam and those get transferred onto our dailies which is what Ken, the editorial team, VFX and studio team sees. That's a major check. It's me with someone in a room, rather than me talking over the phone which is a big difference. I have a very good relationship with Goldcrest and (DI colourist) Rob Pizzey who also sees things along the way. I supervise the grade at the end. So, there's no need for anyone to interpret anything. It’s a collaboration in which we all look at the same images.

Did you shoot black and white for the opening scene or convert?

We shot colour for a couple of reasons. Although Kodak could manufacture BW 65, there is no lab in the world to processes it. Plus, there’s a certain skill to grading BW using colour negative and the added benefits are that that you can place a grey tone to a colour. For example, you could take red and decide it will look a very dark grey or a light grey, so you get very detailed tones. Ultimately, I get much more control in the DI this way. They were very monochromatic battlefield sets and costumes so it was quite limited in this case. The Germans wore grey and the Belgians wore dark blue and it’s a dark sooty gas-filled battlefield but you could manipulate the blue in the sky a little bit more and certainly manipulate the intensity of people’s eyes - especially if they had blue eyes (which Branagh does).

How did you handle sound sync?

To do sound sync work on Orient we used sound cameras that are twice as heavy as high-speed cameras, so I wanted to develop soundproof housing (blimp) for our camera on Nile. I took the problem to Stuart Heath at BGI Supplies at Longcross. They've made all sorts of props for us before, from Cinderella’s carriage to the furniture on Nile. I told him that I needed it really quickly. All my other attempts had failed. Stuart suggested using a material that they soundproof the interior of helicopters with. He brought a draper in who basically measured the camera as if making a dinner suit for it and quickly made a couple of versions for us. It was very effective and really opened up the Steadicam possibility for us. All from just wandering onto a workshop on the lot and asking a friend if he had any ideas about how to achieve something. In the old days that’s what everyone did – the answer was somewhere on the lot.

Finally, after six films and 14 years working with Ken Branagh, could you tell us what makes your relationship tick?

It is a fantastic friendship. To begin with you must be able to maintain a professional friendship with any cast and crew which is all about doing your very best and understanding where you have common aesthetics and shared thoughts about humanity. Ask what kind of world you want this to be, because that will come through in your filmmaking.

As you say, I've spent years working in close proximity to Ken and we have a mutual affection and admiration for each other otherwise we wouldn't be doing it for so long. He is relentless in pursuit of perfection and in his advancement of storytelling and is inspiring to work with. It means you have to be as relentless in your area of craft.

I think we both like making the same kinds of films. I'm a Greek Cypriot who grew up with Greek myth and tragedy. Ken's love of Shakespeare is legendary. You can easily see the lineage between Aeschylus (the ancient Greek creator of tragedy) that goes all the way to Shakespeare. Perhaps that appreciation for the human condition in its best and worst forms is the tie that binds.

Photo credit: Rob Youngson

Source: britishcinematographer.co.uk - February 4 2021

#death on the nile #agatha christie #poirot #hercule poirot #kenneth branagh #been waiting for them to release the rest of the interview! \o/#it goes into a lot more detail than the average article #great interview for fans of behind the scenes stuff #ken's brilliance strikes again :)#i'm fascinated by the 'going twice around the karnak' single shot #sounds like the 'figure 8' shot in MOTOE but even more complex #and they fragmented it?#and the LED screen tech is much larger this time #OMG poirot in dark blue belgian army uniform <3 #hope they release some promo pics of it so we can see it in color #the overhead pic of poirot on set has circular camera tracks around him #it's gonna be an awesome shot i'm sure

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nicknellie · 3 years

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Context so people who haven’t seen Ghosts can still read and enjoy this: Alex is the ghost of a WWII Commanding Officer. In this fic he relives his army days before he died, telling Julie all about it, focusing on another soldier in particular - Lieutenant William Havers.

Sidenote for people who have seen Ghosts: Alex is the Captain, Julie is Alison (because I would pay real money for them to have a conversation like this in the show), and Willie is Havers.

This is the saddest thing I’ve ever written. I wanted to include Willex in the longer Ghosts AU I’m writing but I couldn’t find a natural way to fit it in so I wrote this as something completely separate. Every interaction between Alex and Willie is taken from BBC Ghosts and is very gay.

Here’s to Buried Secrets

Alex could remember it like it was yesterday. Late June in 1940 – hazy spring had bled into a dazed summer, his troops were getting restless after going on a year of work, and he was just about ready to lose his mind. That day had been one of startling revelations and hard-hitting truths, painful decisions that felt like betrayals, stagnant silences and hurt.

With the war dragging on endlessly, his troops had been getting complacent. They did critical work at their base, top secret and crucial to the war effort, but there were times where nothing would happen for days at a time and the troops would get bored. Their behaviour was beginning to waver, and though he wasn’t too against it overall (he understood why they were acting up, he was bored to death too) Alex had to do the right thing and set them straight.

“Now,” he said, “that brings me neatly to point sixteen. There is still a great deal of noise going on at night – laughing, giggling, horseplay. Now, we all get bored – that’s inevitable in our circumstances – but may I remind you, we are at war. I wo…”

He had let his sentence trail off. At that moment, the doors at the back of the room had swung open and in walked Willie. Lieutenant William Havers was Alex’s right-hand man and close friend. There couldn’t always be much room for friendships when at war, and living in such close quarters with everyone in the house could make bonding difficult, but there was something about Willie and Alex that had allowed them simply to click. They understood each other – they cared for each other. Perhaps a little too much.

“Ah, Lieutenant,” Alex greeted, interrupting his own speech.

Willie walked towards him, hand outstretched, holding a small, folded piece of paper. “Communique for you, sir, from HQ, marked urgent.”

“Ah,” Alex returned, taking the note. “Finally! This’ll be my requisition for a service revolver.”

Willie smiled gently as Alex unfolded the note, and Alex suppressed his own. But as soon as he read the note, there was no smile left to hide. This was that first striking blow, that devastating loss; the note brought with it the news of a surrender.

“Good God,” Alex exclaimed, skimming the note over again, making sure he’d read it correctly.

“Sir?” Willie prompted, sounding concerned.

“France has surrendered,” Alex explained.

“My God,” muttered Willie. The troops, still assembled to the side of the two men, began murmuring amongst themselves, the tension in the room much higher now than when Alex had been telling them they needed to go to bed on time.

Alex looked out the window, scanning the sky for any sign of attack. It was silly, he knew – nothing could have happened so quickly – but as it was wont to do, his anxiety began to overwhelm him.

“The Germans are coming,” he said, breath hitching in his throat.

“I don’t think they’ll be here just yet, sir,” Willie told him.

Alex shook his head, regained control. Willie was always good at doing that; he could sense when Alex needed help to calm down, and he could do so with an easy joke, a clever quip. Coming from anyone else, talking to a commanding officer that way might have been a sign of disrespect, but from Willie it was just what Alex needed.

“What? Right,” Alex agreed.

Willie could see he was still distressed. “May I suggest we initiate the emergency lockdown protocol, sir?” he said easily.

“Yes!” Alex exclaimed. He was eternally thankful for Willie – God only knew where he would be without that man by his side. “Yes, jolly good.” He turned to address his troops. “Now, it’s vital that nothing fall into enemy hands.”

“You heard the CO,” Willie said to the troops as Alex turned to watch out the window again. “Get to your duties.”

The troops dispersed in a cloud of excited but nervous chatter, getting to their stations, hiding their work. Alex was left alone with Willie, his only comfort. As Willie came to stand by the window with him, that easy, dashing smile on his lips, Alex felt himself both tense and relax. His worry ebbed away, but it was replaced with the hammering of his heart and a shortness of breath.

“Er… exciting times, Willie,” he ventured. He knew he should have called Willie by his proper title, or at least his surname, but when in private the two were much more open and colloquial with each other. Besides, in the wake of such a bombshell using his first name didn’t seem so scandalous. “If they do invade, we might get a proper pop at Jerry.”

“Yes,” Willie said through a chuckle. But the smile on his face dropped after a moment. Alex felt his heart plummet – Willie was usually all smiles and it was never good when they fell away. “About that, sir… I know we do vital work here, sir… but I want to get involved in the fighting. I’ve put in for a transfer.”

Alex felt like his breath had been stolen from him. Here again, that blow to the gut, that crushing feeling of betrayal. He knew distantly that Willie wasn’t betraying him and he could understand why he wanted to go. What stung was that he was only finding out after the fact. Though he knew also why Willie hadn’t told him: because they both knew that Alex would have done everything in his power to stop him, and it would have been too painful for either of them to bear.

Neither of them had ever mentioned it, but there was something magical about the bond they had. It was like they shared a soul, improved each other, completed one another. Alex didn’t want to think too hard about it. The thought of what he and Willie could have been was painful in innumerable ways.

He still didn’t voice those thoughts now, even though he knew it may be one of the only chances he had left. Instead, through a hitch in his voice, he said, “You’re leaving?”

Willie didn’t reply for a moment, a pregnant pause growing between them, pushing them apart. It stung, and Alex couldn’t feel anything.

But then Willie gathered himself and said, “There’s talk of a North Africa front.”

“Yes,” Alex replied, nodding like it all made perfect sense, like he didn’t feel as if he were going to die. “Yes, well, I totally understand, of course. Carry on.”

He ended it like a command, an order. It wasn’t because he wanted to be apart from Willie - no, he wanted to keep him close by forever - but he needed to grasp some semblance of control and giving orders, doing his job as CO let him do just that - be in control, understand what was happening.

“Thank you,” Willie replied, excruciatingly quiet, ducking his head.

He left the room and Alex in musty silence, the air heavy with revealed secrets and suffocating like gas. Alex’s mind was swimming, fogged with hopeless fantasies, weighed down by the knowledge that the one person who kept him going would soon be leaving him.

Alex had almost forgotten that Julie was there until he looked around and saw her watching him. He was dragged back down from his own mind, his own dredged up memories, and instead reminded himself that he had been telling her all that, not reliving it for no good reason. Perhaps he’d got a bit too caught up in it all, lost in his own head.

He cleared his throat. “Yes. Willie was wonderful. A very fine soldier. I never found what became of him, though, after he left for North Africa. We exchanged letters for a while, but it was difficult – what with the top-secret work I was doing, we couldn’t have addresses being traced and whatnot. We soon fell out of touch, and then… well, I died.”

Julie reached out as if to take his hand, but then seemed to remember they couldn’t touch, so rested it in the space between them on the sofa. Alex smiled weakly, laid his own hand beside hers. He tried to avoid looking her in the eye – her expression radiated pity and it was the last thing he wanted to see.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” she said gently. “It must have been awful.”

“Luckily, a true soldier like me becomes adept at hiding his feelings,” he said, trying for light and joking but clearly missing his target. “Besides. I couldn’t worry my troops. Had to keep morale up, which was difficult enough in itself. It was… it was rather a lot to come to terms with.”

“What happened when he left?” Julie asked softly.

Alex sighed. “Well…”

Alex had been in his office just a few days later. He was staring down at an envelope, carefully sealed. In it was the blueprints for a new limpet mine, a prototype bomb that would perhaps revolutionise the war had it not been so unstable – Alex and Willie had been trying to create a version that was safer, easier to use, but so far had come up empty. They had been instructed to dispose of the bomb and its blueprints; the mission would be dropped.

The envelope was marked simply with the word ‘William’. That was what the operation was called, its codename. Alex had been the one to decide upon it, uncreatively naming it after the first thing he saw, which just so happened to be his lieutenant sat by his side. Willie was the only other one to know about Operation William and when he left it would just be Alex.

Alex had imagined many a time that the contents of the envelope were something entirely different, that the name on the front was to address someone rather than to hide something. In his dreams, there was a letter inside written in his own handwriting and it spilled every deep dark secret he was keeping. It would be addressed to Willie and for his eyes only. In his dreams, Willie would write his own letter in return, addressed to Alex.

He would never write that letter, he knew. It could get him killed.

He was snapped out of his reverie by a knock at his office door.

“Come,” he called, tucking the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket.

The door opened and Willie let himself in, shutting it behind him, standing to attention.

“Ah, Willie,” Alex greeted, glad to see him as usual. “At ease, at ease. I was just thinking about you, actually. How’s the emergency lockdown coming?”

“Very good, sir,” Willie returned, smiling sweetly. “Most items have been squared away, as per the order.”

“Excellent,” Alex returned, beaming. He moved to stand behind his desk, closer to Willie but with a barrier between them. As he tried to speak, Willie began too. “I see–”

“I’ve come to tell you that–”

Both laughed, nerves buzzing between them. Alex knew what his were about – he could only guess and hope as to why Willie seemed a little on edge. The space between them felt charged with expectation, though what it was for Alex didn’t know.

“Sorry,” he said, returning Willie’s genuine but faltering smile, “you first, Lieutenant.”

There was a pause. Uncomfortable, excruciatingly anticipatory. The last remains of Willie’s smile crumbled and he swallowed before he said those few words that would tear down the last of Alex’s resolve and ruin him forever, haunting every dream and nightmare and waking moment. The words that would echo in his head whenever there was silence. The words he would fall asleep thinking about every night from that day forward.

“I’m afraid I’m leaving you, sir… At eighteen-hundred hours this evening.”

The world stilled. Alex wasn’t sure his heart was beating anymore. The part of their shared soul that was Willie’s was torn away from him. He came up blank.

“So soon?” was what came out of his mouth, weak, desperate, small. He hated himself for it, so tried for light-heartedness and gestured to the shining new gun on Willie’s belt. “That would explain your new service revolver. I don’t suppose they sent one for me, did they?”

“Only for front-line personnel at this stage, sir,” Willie said, a light but forced smile on his face.

“Of course. Yes.”

“It’s North Africa, sir,” Willie said. There was something like hope in his voice – it felt like he was asking Alex not to be too upset. Be proud, he was asking. Be happy. For me. “I’ll be able to have a proper swing at Fritz!”

“You make sure you give them a bloody nose,” Alex joked.

He answered Willie’s silent plea for his blessing, his reassurance, his pride, and he tried hard to be positive. He attempted a half-hearted fake punch, throwing it in Willie’s direction and was delighted when Willie responded (if only subtly) as if he’d been struck. Willie was grinning, looking happy, looking excited. Alex had to try and be excited for him too.

But still he said, “I shall miss you, Willie.”

Willie’s face fell again. Alex half-hoped his meaning hadn’t been easy to decipher. He knew what he meant, he knew why he’d said it, but it was a stupid and dangerous thing to say – a stupid and dangerous thing to hope for. Willie swallowed heavily, his throat bobbing, and Alex couldn’t read his expression. Though he was fairly certain it was something similar to his own.

He had always known that Willie felt it too, this forbidden and electric thing between them, whatever it was. This shared soul that was now breaking in two, never to be repaired, never to be recreated. It was this moment that Alex realised he and Willie could never have what they wanted.

So he backtracked.

“By which I mean, of course, that we shall miss you. And I know the Wilson House XI will certainly miss your cover drive.”

Willie’s smile came back too slowly. Alex knew his lie hadn’t come quick enough. He knew the unspoken words and unwritten messages were still there between them, heavy and quaking and full of fear, sadness, silence, and things neither wanted to put a name too. They danced around it, though they wouldn’t have to for much longer. Just a few more hours and whatever they had would be shredded forever as Willie said goodbye.

“Thank you, sir,” Willie said. “Well… if that’s all?”

Alex collected himself, simply looked at Willie for a moment before making himself reply. “Yes.”

Willie nodded, took it as his cue to leave. He pulled the door open and was on his way out of the room.

There was so much Alex wanted to say, so much he wanted to do. He wanted to spend a hundred more sleepless nights with Willie, working on secret projects and perfecting weapons. He wanted a thousand more late night conversations spoken in metaphors and riddles, deciphering each other, growing closer, learning more about their relationship than was permitted. He wanted a million more moments just to look at Willie’s face, to dream of what he couldn’t have.

All he wanted was to speak this silent truth that hung between them like a noose – damn him if it killed them both.

He called him back. “I say, Willie?”

Willie turned faster than lightning, hand rested on the doorknob but eyes trained on Alex like his face was all he ever wanted to see.

He tried to say all he wanted to, but knew he could never. It appeared he just had time for one last metaphor, a final riddle, one last waltz around their dire and doomed reality.

“It’s a bally shame we won’t get to finish the operation together,” he said.

Judging by the look on Willie’s face, the message was received loud and clear. Willie offered a smile, genuine but bittersweet. And without a word, he left the room.

Alex took the little envelope out of his pocket again, stared down at it. He had wanted to bury Operation William alongside Willie – they had both worked so hard but for nothing and it seemed only right they should rid the world of this failure together. But Alex would have to do it alone.

If only he could write that imaginary letter now, he thought. There was so much he could say, but not enough words in the English language to say it. There weren’t words to describe the abject loss he found himself steeped in, the gaping hole that had opened in his chest, the weeping wound that would never quite heal.

That night, alone, he went into the garden with the blueprints and the prototype bomb and he buried them both. With it, he buried all memory and evidence of himself and Willie, all their hard work, all they had built and experienced together.

He bottled those emotions to never let them out.

“He left that night,” Alex said to Julie, “six o’clock on the dot. The rest of our crew saw him off, waving from the doorway, but I stayed in my office. I told them I had paperwork to do.”

“Did you get to say goodbye?” Julie asked.

Alex sighed. “That conversation… well, that was our goodbye. The rest of the house was in chaos so I didn’t have another chance to speak with him alone, everyone needed either my assistance or his.”

Julie’s eyes were brimming with tears; Alex didn’t look at her, or his own eyes would have watered too. “So that was it? That was the last you saw of him?”

“Sort of. I watched him leave from my office window. He… he gave me one last wave from the gate then disappeared, off on his own adventure. Without me.”

“Don’t you wonder what happened to him?” Julie asked, shuffling closer to Alex on the sofa.

“All the time,” Alex breathed. “I looked for his name in every newspaper and every message I received after we lost contact but I never heard of him again.”

“Would you like me to Google him?” Julie suggested. She had explained this whole ‘Googling’ thing to him a while ago and from Alex’s understanding she simply had to type Willie’s name into the little search bar and all his information would come up in an instant. It was quite remarkable, really, and perhaps it would give him that last little bit of closure. And yet…

“No,” he said, “no, thank you, Julie. It’s quite alright. I… I have this version in my head of who he became and I shouldn’t like to spoil it. I shouldn’t like to taint what memory I have left of him, should his life have turned sour.”

Julie smiled softly. “What’s the image in your head like?”

Alex cleared his throat. “Well… I suppose I like to imagine that he was the best soldier out there on the North Africa front. He rose to a position of command – that was where he thrived, really, but good Lord was he good behind a gun. He was well-respected and kind and his men adored him. And I pray that he survived the war, that he made a living for himself, that he got everything he could have ever wanted in life. Really, I suppose… I suppose I just imagine him to be happy. That’s all I could have ever wanted for him. And if I were to find out he were not happy, well… no, I quite like the Willie I remember.”

Julie left a pause before she spoke again. Alex could see the cogs turning in her mind, could see her wondering if she should say whatever was on the tip of her tongue. He knew what was coming the moment she opened her mouth.

“Did you love him, Alex?”

Alex stood, crossed the room and stood by the window. His hands clasped behind his back, swagger stick gripped tightly, he looked outside, eyes trained on the gate. How many times had he stood here during the war and after, waiting for what he had lost to return, hoping in vain that by some miracle he could be granted his happiness? How many times had he wished for what he could not have? How many times had he replayed those final moments in his head, watching Willie wave goodbye?

It happened again as he stood there. It was as if a cloud came over him, throwing him back decades, putting him right back where he started. Willie stood by the gate, thick coat donned, hat atop his head, his bag slung over his shoulder. He waved up at Alex, and Alex smiled back.

“Yes,” he said at last, so quietly that he thought Julie may not have heard him. A great weight was lifted from his shoulders, decades of repression undermined in that one admission of his true feelings. It wasn’t enough – it never would be because he’d never said it to Willie – but acceptance was a start.

Slow as death, Willie – Alex’s version of him – ceased his waving and walked through the gate, disappearing into the darkness to where Alex would never follow. And for the first time after reliving that agonising memory, Alex let himself smile.

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jeonqquk · 3 years

Text

laundry | jjk [ep.4]

pairing: jeongguk x reader genre/tags: assistant!jeongguk, regionalmanager!reader, crack, fluff, shitty in general rating: 13+ word count: 2409 words

30 minutes after Jeongguk’s mouth inspection for a crown, you walk out of your office again, happy to see that everyone else is still silent and no drama has taken place. “Gguk can I talk to you for a second?” Said boy looks up from his desk, confusion evident on his face as you call him for the second time that day. Nevertheless, Jeongguk gets up and follows you into your small office, hands behind his back as he walks cautiously into the room he was never afraid to enter without your permission before. You don’t spare him a single glance after having requested him to come in with you and turn left before sitting at one of the chairs near the potted plant opposite your desk. Jeongguk sits diagonally to you on a chair against the glass. You sigh, getting ready to speak as Jeongguk looks at you with a curious gaze. Exhaling loudly, you smile at Jeongguk “Wow! This is tough.” You talk mainly to yourself and bend forwards, hands landing on your head in a gesture of irritation.

“What is?” you look at Jeongguk with wide eyes and throw your head back, hand massaging your forehead as you passionately act. “How do I tell you this?” Jeongguk doesn’t understand and just looks at your suffering state before he leans in closer, nodding encouragingly. Your breathing turns heavier before Jeongguk worriedly places a hand on your shoulder and you finally gather yourself.

“I just got off the phone with Namjoon.” Jeongguk exhales sharply, hand falling from your shoulder as his mouth falls slightly open. His hands come up to rest on his thighs as his tongue darts out to wet his lips in a probably nervous action. His breathing visibly halts and you rub your hand on your face.

“And….he demoted me.” Jeongguk sputters, eyes going wide as his face turns slightly angry- genuine or not, you didn’t care. “No.” he grits out and your eyebrows are raised, an indication that you were equally as pissed. “You know what the craziest part is?” Jeongguk gulps audibly and you continue, “He demoted me to your job and now, you’re apparently the regional manager.”

Jeongguk tries his best to hide his glee, he really does, but it’s hard to fake a frown when he’s figuratively jumping on top of the desk. His eyes go wide and he throws his head back, blowing out as a sign of disturbing shock. He stares straight ahead and doesn’t look at you, in case he bursts out laughing.

“He said that you should expect a call from corporate. So now you’re gonna be acting as regional manager.” you get up to hug him and he hesitantly does the same. “Wait, aren’t you angry about this, though?” You look at him with a bright smile, “No! This is so good for you. I should go back to sales anyways.”

Jeongguk finally lets himself laugh freely, thanking you for the congratulations as you drag him out. “I’m the Assistant Regional Ma-” “Assistant to the Regional Manager.” he corrects and you clench your jaw, nodding forcedly.

The office doesn't look very happy about it, “Hello everyone. I have some good and bad news. The bad news is- I’m going to be replaced by Jeongguk as your leader. And that is also the good news.” you hear the audible groans of people, Soojung getting up in annoyment “Why does he become the manager?”

Jeongguk is unfazed by everyone’s unenthusiasm and continues smiling and waving his hand like he’s some diva. “Because he was the second highest ranking position.” your answer is curt and Soojung storms off into the ladies room. Jeongguk walks back into the office with one final glance at all the disgruntled employees. You follow him.

Sitting on a chair, you watch as Jeongguk sits down at his (your) desk and bounces lightly on the swivelling chair, as if testing it’s cushioning. He nods to himself and you can only watch with angry eyes as he moves the things around. The rubber ball and mug that said ‘World's Best Boss’ going into a tray along with some papers.

When Jeongguk looks as if he’s finished, he sits at his chair and you get up, flashing him a fake smile, “Well, I guess it’s time for me to turn over the keys to the famous Sebring.” Jeongguk, who’s smiling at something on the desktop, doesn’t even bother looking at you “No, thank you.” He seems to have acquired a new sense of superiority, fake promotion that you were giving him stroking his already huge ego.

“It’s a corporate lease, Gguk. You’ve earned it.” you’re getting annoyed by the second and his carefreeness does nothing to calm you down. Still, you attempt at making a natural face when he says “No, thanks” again.

“What?” you’re pretty sure that he’s thinking of himself as your boss now, obviously, but you never thought that he would reject your car like this. “Not my style.” You’re boiling form anger on the inside, trying to control all the rage bottling up inside of you.

“But you said you liked it, you’ve always admired it and-” “That was before. I’m thinking of getting something German,” He leans back in his chair “something with a decent gas mileage.”

Your jaw drops in a mix of shock, anger and humiliation because never had you expected these words to come out of Jeongguk’s mouth so easily. “Plus, that convertible is a ridiculous choice for this climate.” He makes a disgusted face, and you’re practically seething at this point, and you’re able to feel the smoke coming out of your ears as you stare at the side of Jeongguk’s face who seems to be too invested in whatever the screen was showing.

“Take it back” Jeongguk’s goofy smile is replaced by a confused one, “No.” Your jaw clenches, muscles contracting as you glare at Jeongguk, closing your eyes for a split second before opening them again, and you keep your hands on the edge of the desk in a vain attempt to calm yourself down.

“What did you-” “That’s my car!” Jeongguk begins but you cut him off, all the manners your preschool teacher had taught you flying right out your head as your furious self screams at him, all the employees looking at the closed room at the sudden noise.

“Yes,” Jeongguk beings uncertainly, but you lose your composure finally, spilling the truth that you knew about his secret meeting with Namjoon. “I know, Jeongguk. I know, I know.” You walk around the table, and Jeongguk turns his chair to see you coming closer to him. “Know what?”

“Namjoon called me about your little meeting.” you can taste the venom in your words, the unadulterated poison that comes from your mouth even surprises you but you don’t stop. “I know what you did. You fucking backstabber.”

Jeongguk’s aghast by your cruelty, standing up in fear and moving back, as far as he could get from you in this small office. He’s shaking from fright at this point, as your head throbs from the fact that all you could see right now was red.

“I know what you did.” Jeongguk shakes his head, weakly trying to defend himself but his face gives it all away, his guilt-ridden face turning pale and lips quivering. “The Sebring’s cool-” He does all he can to save himself from your wrath. The sight must definitely not be too pleasant to witness as Jeongguk walks backwards until he’s in front of the desk and you’re in front of him, the view clear from the glass through which everyone was staring at you two openly.

“I made the whole thing up.” your voice grows colder, scarier by the minute and Jeongguk notices this, his eyes glossy from fear that you would go hard on him. Jeongguk’s breathing gets heavier by the minute, yours too but it’s out of the rage in you that you probably look like a bull right now.

“How dare you? How dare you, Jeongguk?” Frankly, this was not what you would have expected from such a hardworking and dedicated employee, but everyone’s inner demon came out at some point. Jeongguk kneels down in front of you, hands together as tears form in his eyes. In any other situation, you would've sympathised with him, upset that such a dear friend had to go through any kind of pain.

Right now, though, you scream profanities at him, anger spilling out in the form of swears no one could think of as the rest of the office watches, some with pitiful faces for Jeongguk and others looking shit scared. “Don’t fire me. Please don-” Jeongguk is literally begging you, pants getting dirty from kneeling on the carpet and your vein pops as you shout, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't fire you right here on the spot.” You half-sit on the chair, eyes red as you stare Jeongguk down, his gaze pathetic and wavering.

The scene must look terrible. But you don’t care, the solution to everything seems violence and the sight of Jeongguk just angers you even more.

“I have excellent sales numbers!” he yells and you roar back, “Not good enough!” Jeongguk looks pathetic, a mess at your feet and you swipe your hair back roughly, face probably cherry red. Everyone else is staring at the scene, glancing sideways at each other in pity.

In the corner, Yunha sits, unable to look at the scene because she knows exactly what’s going on, and regrets ever putting the idea of Jeongguk becoming regional manager in his head. Her eyes well with tears and she rushes out, her exit so discrete that not one person notices her.

Jeongguk covers his face with his trembling hands, sobbing loudly as you try to gain your calm demeanour back. He pulls at his hair, bending down and going into a praying position at your feet. “Please! I’ll do your laundry for a month- for a year.” He tries bargaining as you stand fuming, “I have a laundry machine.”

“Y/n. I’m sorry. Anything.” Jeongguk is bawling his eyes out, face on the carpet as he watches his entire career fall into pieces in front of him. He looks heart-breaking and you feel bad only for a second before replacing the sympathy with rage once more, “Please? Please?” he pleas and you shake your head, struggling not to burst into tears yourself. Why. You don’t know.

“I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.” His head is still on the carpet and normally, you would’ve told him to get up from such a vulnerable position but you’re not even looking at him now, as the annoyance takes over your entire being.

“You can’t, you ca-can’t.” the way his voice breaks has you biting your lip in hopes of not breaking down right then and there. What he did was unacceptable, yes. But everyone made mistakes, some graver than the others and you find yourself asking yourself why Jeongguk couldn’t be given a second chance. Tonguing your cheek, you look around and glance at the other employees who are all sat with sad faces.

“But I promise I’ll never betray you again. Ever. What can I do? What can I do, Y/n?” he hiccups and you stand still, trying to collect all your thoughts as you take in a deep, deep breath. Even the emotionless Soojung watches with pitiful eyes as Jeongguk tries to get out of being fired.

You exhale deeply and Jeongguk, whose back probably starts paining from bending so much, raises his hips, going into a mountain position with his head still in between his arms. It takes him a while, all the crying having made him weak. Jungwoo, the ever so caring worker also watches with a judging gaze as Jeongguk shifts around, not looking up once. His ass raises and falls many times as he tries to find a comfortable position while still trying to look regretful.

“You can get up.” You roll your eyes and speak without looking at him, “What?” Jeongguk still doesn’t look up in case he heard you wrong. You blink in annoyance and speak again louder this time and hopefully clearer because all the shouting previously had most definitely been good for your throat.

“Get up,” Jeongguk raises his head slightly from the floor first and then picks himself up with his muscly arms. You catch a peek at his purple underwear but quickly divert your gaze, making a face after. Jeongguk stands up to his full height and if it weren’t for the slight saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth, you would’ve wanted to slap him. He looks, to an extent, funny and you swallow a giggle, surprised at how quickly your anger had vanished after thinking rationally about the situation.

“And you can hug it out, bitch.”

You open your arms in the slightest and Jeongguk notices this, face turning from upset to happy in a matter of seconds. He wipes his tears with the sleeve of his blazer and you try smiling at him, a gesture he returns with the same amount of enthusiasm.

Jeongguk shuts his eyes for a fraction of a second, nodding to himself in appreciation and abruptly pulls you into one of the most bone-crushing hugs you’ve ever been suffocated in. And that was saying something- your arm once went limp when Daehwi hugged you after a week of him being in Philadelphia.

Jeongguk shuts his eyes, his hot breath fanning your neck and you try not to think much about it, or show any reaction to it and try to wrap your arms around his bulky form in return. “Thank you so much, Y/n.” He mumbles into your hair and a shiver runs down your spine as you clench your hands. His arms around your waist are unmoving and tight, and he only withdraws them when you start to feel your waist paining from his ironclad grip and tap his arms.

He moves back and you send him another smile, more natural this time and he giggles back in return, but you're still not completely over it yet. You have two more things for Jeongguk to do before completely forgiving him and you know that as humiliating one of them will be, you won’t fully forgive him until he agrees.

thanks for reading! this is probably the longest laundry chap so send in feedback and your thoughts about this chapter!

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spinnenpfote6 · 3 years

Text

I’m laughing so hard rn at those so-called feminists here on German Twitter. So basically there’s this show here called “Die Höhle Der Löwen” (”The Den Of Lions”) where young/new businesspeople can present their newest innovative products to five investors and then the investors decide if they make a deal or not if they like a product.

Recently there were two guys presenting a feminine hygiene product called “Pinky” - a loose, pink plastic glove with a sticky strip for easy, sanitary and discrete disposal of tampons in public if there are no trash cans or you cannot wash your hands or whatever. Since you can just put the glove on, pull the tampon out, roll the glove over, fold it and close it with the sticky strip - it is not see-through, doesn’t leak and prevents certain odors, apparantly. I thought this is a neat idea actually. (They got a deal btw)

But ohhh boy, Twitter was heating up after this. First criticism is that it’s invented by guys - ‘kay, it’s a bit weird, sure, but I don’t really care as long as it is a good product. Second criticism is that it is too much plastic waste and too expensive - yeah, I thought it is a tad too expensive as well but when it comes to hygiene I don’t care about the environment, sorry guys! Third criticism, the biggest one by far, is that this product it is apparantly oh-so sexist and shames women for having their period.

The key moment was that upon being asked how they got the idea was that the guys used to be living in a shared apartment with other guys and a few women as well. They phrased it in a nice and neutral way but basically, they were a bit grossed out by the smelly, bloody tampons. Sure, I can see how this might rub some people the wrong way since they’re guys but like... I agree that it’s kinda gross?? Many also scream that the product tells women to be ashamed and grossed out by touching their vagina and to hide the period at all costs while ignoring the fact that it is advertised to be a useful tool when you happen to be in a place like, idk, a gas station bathroom where you might not have access to toilet paper oder soap. Or if you need to dispose it in a non-bathroom trash can. I certainly do not want to touch my genitals when I’m not able to wash my hands properly, which has nothing to do with me being uncomfortable with my body or womanhood. And no, even if we’re understanding towards eachother as women, I do not want to see my co-worker’s bloody tampons or running into them while trying to wash my bloody hands or them knowing that I’m bleeding out of my pussy rn or. There happen to be women who are kiiiinda don’t want to share it with other women, even if that’s unbelieveable. Everyone takes a shit, but I don’t inform everyone about mine.

Among these weird feminists seems to be this belief that period blood is somehow 100% clean and pure and great and those Pinky-guys are promoting the opposite. But like - period blood literally is your body getting rid of waste and certainly is unsanitary. Seriously, you cannot tell me that it cannot be a biohazard. Of course, getting some blood onto your fingers or bedsheets next to your partner is normal and usually unavoidable and it’s not the end of the world, especially since it’s your own blood. It’s something different with the blood of strangers though, which may contain diseases the person might have who maybe happens to not know how to get rid of their tampon in a clean way.

Periods aren’t a fun divine womanly experience either. It’s fucking gross, it smells bad (even if it just smells metallic), you have to change tampons or change pads in order to not sit in a wet spot of blood, you might stain your clothes, you have pains and just overall feel bad. And you still experience all of this at home where no one is judging you. Idk why these women are so hellbent on wanting me to “embrace” this when this pink glove is nothing like religious shit were women are told to be dirty monsters if they’re on their period. I just wanna be clean and I currently am, by the way, since I haven’t had my period for months due to my illness which is of course bad but very comfortable I must say.

Plus god forbid that anything related to women is pink according to Twitter... I don’t care ‘cause pink is amongst my favorite colors (I love everything that’s close to red, my #1 fave color) - hating a color doesn’t make you a feminist. And before anyone protests: Yes, I mean everyone who menstruates, women were just a big focus of the conversation. I am aware that these gloves might not be super necessary and not innovative and overpriced. But I don’t think they’re sexist at all. I embrace everything that makes my life easier and sometimes I don’t wanna carry around tons of things to get rid of one tampon. Those guys aren’t telling me that my period is a problem to be solved like you bitches claim because I’ve already experienced it as a burden before, even if I’m aware that it’s a sign of a healthy body. ‘Cause ya know, those thoughts can co-exist.

My key point is this: Nature is gross, that’s just how it is and having your period isn’t nice. And because it is natural, it is not a thing we should be shamed for or ashamed of. We are not gross or bad or overreacting because of the period in any way. But I can understand that just leaving your tampon, even just in the trash can, can be uncomfortable if a person you know might see it or you might get blood stains somewhere. Having a sanitary help to dispose of tampons is great, not oppressing. A lot of girls at my school for example didn’t think being clean is very necessary... not to mention that German schools are VERY much lacking soap, warm water and toilet paper. But y’all aren’t taking your precious time to criticise that.

So fuck off with your fake feminism.

Sincerely, a woman.

#my thoughts #feminism #sorry for the long text #but it was all over the internet news #and bothered the hell outta me lol #pinky #germany #period #you can be annoyed sure #but bitches were literally RAGING all over the internet

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echo-three-one · 3 years

Text

Whatever It Takes

Sequel to A Forgotten Memory

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

With more and more information revealed via Augustus' burner phone, The team now has to make an important decision, one that would change the course of their lives, forever.

Chapter 15 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

Previous Chapter : Meet Me Halfway

Unexpected Alliances

Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Task Force 141

Flying above Russian Airspace

Roach was speechless. Admittedly the dark and messy battle at the Gulag was something worth noting but the thing that kept his head preoccupied at the moment was Soap and France kissing in the middle of warfare.

Guess love knows no boundaries huh. He thought to himself as he looked at France kneeling beside Soap who passed out from exhaustion. Another person laying beside him was an old man named Jack. The 141 records had a match to Jack, he's apparently Alex's mentor who got missing when their safehouse got raided.

Guess the force will be having two reunions tonight. His eyes turned to Price, who sat by the huge window and gazed into the sea of clouds, he's always serious and in thought that Gary found him intimidating, even after that short mission in Germany.

Then there was Ghost. He's surely heartbroken now that she saw what France did. And Gary was slightly to blame, well not necessarily his fault but if he pushed him enough to confess, maybe this won't hurt more than it did to him today.

Gary spent the rest of the trip observing, noting his comrade's actions, discussing with their thoughts, especially after the invasion. He was glad 141 extracted Soap before the deliberation, where none of them are allowed to perform missions. Gary felt scared, he just got here, got the hang of it, and was afraid to cut ties with the 141 on such short notice. But he hoped Shepherd would talk sense to the board, especially now that the burner phone filled with leads was within their possession.

"You're awfully quiet…" Ghost nudged to Gary while fidgeting with his gun.

"Well, I got nothing to talk about." Gary replied, turning to the masked man.

"Well I've got a lot, and it's pretty nasty. Can't say it here though." He replied, his tone was almost relieved, as if he just blurted out something that was bothering him for a long time.

"Is it about them?" Gary whispered, pointing his thumb to the couple back at the med bay.

"That's a different story, and I told you I was right, they already had a thing going on since day 1. Who am I to interfere…" Gary could feel him frown beneath the mask, he got defeated in the war of love.

"That's okay… You'll find someone better." Gary consoled and Ghost automatically shrugged it off.

"Eh. I hope…" he said, turning to the window opposite to Gary's position.

Task Force 141 Base - Infirmary

"The audio from this room's camera is muted so it's best to discuss it here." Ghost sat on the chair as concerned 141 members circled around him, Jack, Alex and Soap occupied the beds as they recovered from injuries.

"What you got for us, lad?" Price crossed his arms as he leaned by the door, his hat tilted perfectly on his head.

"An anonymous number sent Augustus coordinates of the base prior to the attack." He held up the phone and everyone murmured.

"Looks like we have another mole in our hands." Alex grunted, turning to Jack for nostalgia.

"But this time, we have a solid lead to who it is…" Ghost added while everyone braced themselves for the slap of reality they're going to get.

From out of nowhere the infirmary doors opened, Maxine was panting and sobbing at the same time, her hands held her thigh desperately enduring some sort of pain.

"It's Samantha… haaah… Shepherd took her!..." she panted as Gary quickly assisted him while everyone who was capable of fighting dashed to the scene.

"Go, Gary. I'll take care of her." Soap quickly got up with Jack, they were already fine and just required to complete their nutrition so assisting her would be the best option.

Gary nodded and dashed outside, bracing himself for the unbearable news.

"Shit. What's going on! I thought we already agreed not to take Samantha elsewhere!" Gary caught up with Ghost and the rest of the available team.

"I have my wild guess, but you're not going to like it." He replied, adjusting his shades as they exited the building. From there, they saw the General's aircraft already far away from their reach. Behind them Alex, Soap, Jack and Maxine followed, their faces were drawn with extreme sadness.

A few seconds of staring at the sky and Price's comms received an incoming message.

"Captain, I regret to inform you that the 141 is no more… I'm sending the High Value Individual to their care as the threat escalated and is being designated to a different force. I'm sorry. Please tell the rest of the group that in two weeks they will be returned to their prior assignments before 141 was established." his voice was nonchalant, emotionless and straightforward, like he's reading it from a diner table's tissue paper.

"No…" Price muttered. They were this close to Nero. The rest of the team looked down, others started to disperse and did as ordered while the more concerned group stayed.

"Shepherd's working with Nero. He wants the EMP based weaponry to help his marines in Afghanistan." Ghost blurted, raising the heads of everyone around him.

"He's trading the economical side of the world to win a war?" Gary asked, as the information doesn't add up.

"It's a wild guess but the global economic pressure is already influencing the government to allocate more funds to anti terrorism. Cutting off 141 shouldn't be in play but he found a way to do so… He wants us to stop fighting back."

"Then fighting back is what we're going to do." Price muttered, grabbing his phone.

"I'm going to make a few phone calls. Those who want to stay and save the world could stay. Those who are content to return to their past lives, you could leave."

"What about me?" Maxine asked, raising her hand.

"Come with us, We'll take care of you while it's not safe out." Gary said, almost pleading her to say yes.

"I don't have anyone else but France and Samantha. I don't know where to go from here…"

"Then that settles it. Nikolai will take us somewhere safe. If the 141 is no more, we could still salvage weapons and ammo for ourselves. But after this, there's no turning back." Price added, his voice sparked inspiration to everyone.

And that was it, from that moment. They've gone rogue, for a good cause. And they have to defeat Nero, Whatever it takes.

The Next Step

John Price

Task Force 141 - Disbanded

Former Task Force 141 Base - Helipad

A small group of his comrades were willing enough to stop the war, even at the cost of losing a lot of privileges. Price was always one to work under strict jurisdiction, and this rogue act he's going to commit will be backed up soon, it's going to be dependent on how Laswell influences the board.

The idea was easy. Create another task force which had to be approved prior to the 141's disbandment so that the papers for their redeployment would never be processed. Of course a few strings needed to be pulled and an organization must be able to absorb them. Interpol was willing to help along with Jack's influence to the CIA and Price was lucky enough to have them two on their side.

And there they were, with Nikolai's majestic aircraft, they set course to a temporary camp thanks to Jack. Price noted that he'd get along with the CIA, given they're age similarities and stance toward warfare.

He surveyed his trusty crew and took note of their abilities. There's Alex, former CIA and fought alongside him in Verdansk and Urzikstan. He's got a clear objective and will and it doesn't matter to Price whether its love or world peace. He's good at terrible hostile locations and can single-handedly turn the tide of war by local agreements and persuasion. A good weapon.

Then there's Simon Riley, or Ghost. Excellent Sniper, the team's tech guy. He's a keeper, his ability to reject emotions while in combat makes him focused and a keen observer. He also excels in weapon usage. You give him anything with a trigger and he'll be sure to hit enemies no matter what.

Another one is John MacTavish, or Soap, what kind of a name is Soap? Price thought. Price looked at the muppet proudly. He rose among his comrades during recruitment and stood at the top of his batch, showing exemplary combat skills and demolitions expertise. Excellent at handling air support machinery and his keen eye never misses a tango hiding from the field. He's got it tough recently, Price believed luck wasn't on his side that's why he got injured a lot.

There's Gary Sanderson or Roach. Price calls him the team's therapist. He sees the willingness to help from the guy. He's eager to train hard and be better and he was impressed on how he handled the German Infilnitration they did together. He has initiative and a clear goal. Something useful at these times.

There's Francine Winters, France a.k.a. Shepherd's prodigy, the last minute addition. He's still quite skeptic as to why she's placed here, but so far he knew that with her sister mentally disturbed by the enemies she's bound to use her emotions as ammunition. She's great at stealth and close combat especially great for breaking and entering missions. She could be trained of open area battles and she has the drive to do so, making her another good addition to the team.

As for the remaining ones, Jack and Maxine, he has no idea yet but them tagging along and using their resources to the fight would greatly increase their chances of killing Nero and destroying the era of EMP machinery.

"Looks like you got yourself a pretty nice team, pal." Jack patted the Former captain's shoulder.

"Yeah. Small enough to remain secret and powerful enough to defeat Nero." he muttered. Jack held his phone and showed it to Price.

"I got us a place. An old CIA Safehouse."

"Are you sure this is going to be okay?"

"Positive. This one's not used for decades. Classified as dormant and unmaintained. It's situated near a city that once housed a lot of terror activity but after it got neutralized it became very peaceful." Jack convinced. Price no longer hesitated, the team needed the help they can get.

"As long as we're under the radar." He replied and gave Nikolai the coordinates. From there they would begin their revenge toward Nero's attack, plan Samantha's rescue, and discover what Shepherd is really up to...

One step at a time.

Doing everything they can.

To set things right.

Whatever it Takes.

END OF PART 1

Wild ride first half. I hope you stay for the second part right around the corner!

Notification Squad my beloved 💝

@smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio @ricinbach @beemybee @whimsywispsblog

#horRAYfic #whateverittakes #john price #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #john soap MacTavish #alex echo 3 1 #cod #codmw

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siren-queen-imagines · 4 years

Text

Concussion

I’m going through the Wayback Machine and bringing over some fics that I wrote when I was imaginingwwesuperstars!! Well, at least what they have archived…and has been edited since the original post. Down to the last of them! I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

You were in the middle of your match with Bayley when you had landed wrong. She went for a german suplex and you landed directly on the back of your head.

You remembered flying through the air and then it went black for a moment. That was all you could remember about it. When you opened your eyes, you had already been loaded onto the gurney. You heard the crowd clapping for you and chanting your name as a way of showing their support.

“Hey, hey, hey.” You heard the voice of your boyfriend, Sami Zayn, call out as you were being wheeled towards the ambulance. “Is she okay?” He asked one of the medical personnel.

“She wasn’t responding in the ring, so we believe she may have a concussion. We need to take her to the hospital and get some tests.” One of the WWE EMT’s had replied.

“Alright, I’m coming with you.”

“No.” You called out to him, slightly weakly as you still felt a little lightheaded. They stopped moving the gurney so you can talk to Sami for a moment.

“I’m not leaving you to go through this alone.” Sami told you, grabbing onto you hand.

“You have a match, Sami. Go. I’ll be okay for an hour or so.” You slurred.

“Y/N–”

“I’m fine, Sami. Just go. I’ll see you when you’re done.”

Sami clenched his jaw before he sighed. He nodded and lifted your hand to his lips, kissing you knuckles gently before letting you go. He watched as they loaded you into the ambulance and remained in place until you were driven out of sight. He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair in frustration before putting it back on. He sighed once more as he headed towards the gorilla, grateful that he was going out there second. He needed that extra time to get back to his usual self for the fans.

You sat in your hospital bed, flipping through the channels in boredom. You had a killer headache and were still waiting for the aspirin the nurse gave you to kick in.

=================================

It was confirmed that you had a concussion.

Great.

You sighed as you turned off the TV. You pinched the bridge of your nose, praying to whomever was out there that this headache would at least lighten up.

“Hey.” A voice gently called out to you.

You looked over to see Bayley and Sasha walk into the room with what looked to be your bag of clothes.

“Hey.” You replied, small smile on your face. You couldn’t even begin to describe how happy you were to see your friends. It was so boring without them while you waited for everything.

“How are you feeling?” Sasha asked.

“I’ll be better once this headache dies down.” You replied. “But thanks for asking. I’ll be alright.” You offered her a smile.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m so sorry–” Bayley started.

“Stop. Don’t apologize, Bay. It was an accident. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But you wouldn’t be here if I had decided on another move or–”

“Shush.” You interrupted once more. “Everything happens for a reason, right? Maybe this was the universe’s way of telling me that it’s time for a break. I’m fine, girl. Really. It was an accident. All of us get in that ring knowing things like this can happen. But we still do it. Besides, you gave me a hell of a match out there. I’d say like, top 2 of my favorite matches I’ve ever wrestled in.”

Bayley couldn’t but smile at you.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

You grabbed her hand gently and patted it to comfort her as you smiled at her.

“By the way, thanks for bringing my stuff.”

“Oh of course. We left Sami a note telling him that we were coming to see you and that we’d bring your stuff so he can just finish up and get here.” Sasha replied, taking a seat near your bed.

“How is he?”

“He took it pretty hard. He was pretty upset.”

“I expected that. He was about to bail on and I didn’t want him getting into any trouble, you know?”

“Speak of the devil.” Bayley said, looking at her phone. “He’s here. He’s on his way up.”

As if on cue, Sami walked into the doorway, pausing and taking the hat off his head.

“We’ll give you guys a few minutes.” Sasha said, her and Bayley excusing themselves.

Sami went over to you and immediately pulled you into his arms.

“God, I was so scared.” Sami whispered, tilting his head to kiss the side of your temple. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay.” You assured him, gently rubbing his back. “Did you win?”

Sami laughed as he pulled away from you. You scoot over and patted the spot next to you. Sami sat in the empty spot and put his arm around you.

“You’re in the hospital and you wanna know if I won?” He asked with amusement.

“Yeah. It would be nice to know.”

“I did. Barely, but I did.”

“Barely? Why barely?”

“Well, there was this girl I really love who got hurt. Couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“Is this girl nice?”

“Oh yes, very nice. Pretty geeky, really easy and fun to talk to…beautiful, ugh. So beautiful.”

“Hmm, I think I have to meet this girl sometime.”

“You definitely do.”

You and Sami exchanged a small laugh as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“What’d the doctor say?” Sami asked as you two relaxed in the momentary silence.

“Concussion. Said it could’ve been much worse.”

“It could’ve. We can live with a concussion. I’d rather you not have a brain injury, but considering the alternatives, it is what it is.”

You two sat in the silence comfortably.

“Hi, Miss Y/L/N, I have your discharge papers.” The nurse, Diana, said as she came in. “You must be Sami,” She asked him with a smile.

“I am.” He replied, offering his hand to shake.

“Diana.” She shook his hand. “She told me a lot about you. We needed to keep her alert and all she did was talk about you.

“Good things I hope.”

“Some. The rest happened to be about your worst qualities.” She replied straight faced.

“Really?” Sami asked you in surprise.

“I’m just kidding, it was all good.” Sami couldn’t help the laugh that left him. She was good. “So, the after care is very simple. Are you familiar with concussions?”

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Okay. Then just make sure to wake her up every couple of hours to make sure she’s okay. If her headache worsens, she gets dizzy or she starts vomiting, anything that might make you worry, bring her back here or call 911. If she needs anything for the pain, give her Tylenol. It’s all there in the papers but I thought I’d give you the whole spiel anyway.”

“Great.” Sami said as he looked at the discharge papers for a moment. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem. Y/N, I hope you feel better soon, honey.”

“Thank you, Diana. Have a good night.”

“You too, thanks guys.” She smiled at the two of you before leaving the room.

You stood up and headed over towards your bag. Sami quickly got up and took the bag away from you and placed it on the bed.

“I got this.” Sami said as he unzipped your bag and opened it.

“I can do it, you know.” You told him with a small smile as you grabbed some clothes.

“Eh, I know. But I just want you to take it easy.”

“You’re too good to me.” You placed a kiss to his lips before closing the curtain to change.

“You wanna grab something to eat on the way back to the hotel?”

“Sure, sounds good, I’m starving.”

“And we’ll watch some Netflix. They have the most recent season of SVU on…we need to catch up.”

You opened the curtain, fully dressed.

“That sounds amazing. But we haven’t even finished the last season…I think we have 2 more episodes.”

“Then we’re finishing it tonight.” Sami leaned down and kissed you. “Let’s get you fed and to sleep.”

You smiled at him before he went over to your bag and zipped it up. He placed it on the ground and pulled out the handle to roll it behind you. With his free hand, he laced his fingers together with yours.

As you walked down the hallway of the hospital, you knew that you had hit the jackpot with Sami Zayn. You may have a concussion, but you had never felt better in your life than when you’re with him.

#sami zayn x reader #sami zayn imagine #wwe imagine #wrestling imagine

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freshstartbaby · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2

PREVIOUS PART

Nov - Quand vient la nuit partie 2

“Appearances are often deceptive because a broken heart is invisible and its scars are indelible”

It’s been a while since Florian did not drive. It was a weird feeling to have back a wheel in his hands. But he couldn’t deny it, it was releasing. There was a kind of freedom in driving that Florian missed a lot.

Three years wasted. Three damn years. It could have been more, but it was already too much. Florian didn’t like to waste time. It is too precious. Even if he was caring, disciplined and charismatic, everything could shut down if you dared to waste his time. Unfortunately he wasted his own time by his own negligence.

He was snitched on. Someone gave his name. Usually he was persuasive and very inconspicuous. It was good qualities for someone who made fake money. But some new partner wasn’t tough enough. He knew his name. He knew it not even a week after he was locked. He will take care of it. But not right now.

Right now, he had to find Rebecca and Youri. Wherever they were.

« This day will definitely never ends. « he thought

He didn’t want to fight. Just know where they were and have a little conversation. Was she crazy ? What went through her mind to think she could leave ? And take his son with her. The only thought about losing them gave a headache to Florian.

He took a deep breath and grabbed a cigarette. While he was lighting it he shook his head slowly. Florian knew Rebecca, and he knew that if she had the audacity to make a move so bold, she must be upset. Enraged maybe. It’s not her type. Even less with him. But when she was, he must lay down.

He took Alexei’s phone. Florian couldn’t take his own, it was perfectly destroyed before police arrived to arrest him. But he made sure that Alexei had the location of Rebecca on his phone. He just prayed that she didn’t turn it down. She didn’t.

« Gott sei Dank / Thanks god » Florian whispered to himself

At least a good news today. When he finally arrived at the address, he discovered a hotel. Florian parked and closed his eyes tightly and let his head drop on the head of his seat. She took his son to a hotel ? He better be a five stars or she better book a suite. He only wants the best for his blood. He only wants the best for her.

Florian stepped out of the car, trying to bring together his last drop of strength. He walked through the door and went to the receptionist.

« Good evening Sir and welcome to the Newton Hotel, how may I help you » the receptionist said in an enthusiastic tone

« Good evening, could you tell me if Mrs Shakur Rebecca booked a room in here ? « he asked laying on the counter

« Everything for you Sir » she answered which a flirtatious smile

Florian kept a straight face. He didn’t have time for that. He wasn’t here to play. He already has too many issues. Too many women issues. He didn’t even take a break since he is out. This flirtatious vibe ? It was the last of his problems.

When the receptionist realized he wasn’t down for it, she looked back at her screen and looked for the name he gave her.

« Yea Mrs Shakur booked a room today, do you want me to call her ? Who is asking for her ? » the receptionist said while grabbing the phone

« Can I have the room number ? » Florian said looking at her

« Unfortunately sir, I can only give it to you if Mrs Shakur allowed me to »

« Come on... » Florian looked her badge where her name, Deborah, was written « Deby, I’m sure you can do an exception for a gentleman » he said licking his lips while looking at her

Florian knew what effect he could have on women. He was good looking, it was a observation. He didn’t really enjoy taking advantage of it, but when I needed it, he did it. Without any regret.

« Deby, at what time do you end your shift ? « he said in a low voice

The young Latina woman looked left and right, making sure that no one was listening while she played with her black beautiful hair

« In two hours » she said bringing back her flirtatious bright smile

« Maybe we could spend some time together after that, I will love to » he said biting softly his lips after ending the sentence.

It was too much for the young lady. She grabbed a piece of paper, noted something on it and gave it to him quickly.

« Call me if you don’t see me » she whispered

« I will for sure, but Deby, what about the room number ? I need to handle some small business down there » Florian said, putting the paper in his trouser pocket.

« Room 834, take this elevator with this card, and go down the hallway to the right » the receptionist said while showing him the elevators « please don’t kill anyone »

« I be a good boy don’t worry » Florian said going through the way.

When he arrived in front of the door he felt exhausted. He wanted to cry so badly. But he couldn’t allow it. Florian didn’t want to argue. He wanted to take them in his arms and take them home. But this scenario will be hardly feasible. He shook his broad shoulders and finally knocked.

The door slowly opened few seconds later revealing Rebecca. They looked at each other, chest moving hard by heavy breath.

« Can I come in ? » Florian asked in a soft voice

« No, we getting out » Rebecca answered « wait a minute »

She closed back the door and looked at Youri who was playing with his tablet. He looked back at her mother.

« Who was it Mumy ? » the boy said while he put pause on his game

Rebecca put on her slippers and looked at herself in the mirror

« Put your slippers on baby, and put a jacket on, we getting out a little » she answered him while putting some fragrance

When the little boy was ready, she looked at him to make sure he was looking right and that his shoes were put in the right order. She finally opened the door and let her son see his father.

« Tata ! » Youri screamed before jumped in his father arms

« My champ » Florian said hugging his blood thigh

Rebecca closed the door behind her and went through the elevators

« Where are we goin Mumy ? » Youri asked

« There is a chill area down there, let’s go » she said pressing the elevator button.

She crossed her arms and looked at her son and Florian, hugging and kissing each other.

—-

Youri was playing not too far from his parents. Far enough not to hear their conversation. But close enough to them to see him.

It’s been five minutes since they were sitting on the opposite side of the couch. No one had the balls or the emotional strength to start the conversation.

Rebecca didn’t want to say things she will regret, because she knew she was hurted at the moment. She had so much to say, but it will go out too crude if she talks now. So she chose the silent mode.

Florian didn’t know where to begin and didn’t want to upset Rebecca more than she already was. When she was in silent mode he always felt Damocles sword on top of his head.

« Youri’s German is really good » he said

Rebecca wanted to roll her eyes so bad. Really ? He came to talk about Youri’s German level ? She tried to play it cool and finally answered

« Yea he is taking classes » she said crossing her legs

« How much time are you staying here ? » Florian finally asked softly looking at her

« I don’t know » she told, looking straight in front of her

« You don’t know ? » Florian repeated, not really ok with this answer

« I don’t know » she said again, still not looking at him

« What do you mean you don’t know Rebecca ? » he told in a low voice

He was trying to hide that the situation was upsetting him, but with this kind of answer, it’s gon be hard.

« What don’t you understand exactly in this sentence »

He looked at her for few seconds and looked straight in front of him. Now he had to support her attitude. He was with the worst version of Rebecca right now.

« If you wanted act dumb and have an attitude you didn’t had to bring my-« without looking at her he felt Rebecca eyes pierced him « our son here » he said rubbing his beard

Rebecca started laughing. Florian rubbed his eyes. He was fucked

« Act dumb ? Your son ? » she laughed once more and looked back straight in front of her « Oh Florian, jail must had fuck your brain, you forgot all about me. You want to talk to me like shit ? Who the fuck you talking to ? Are you really calling dumb the woman who took care of your son since three years by herself. And by the way, I didn’t know men could make babies on their own. » Rebecca said in a straight voice

« Can I offer you some refreshments ? » a waiter who pass by asked them

« No it’s ok thank you » Rebecca said with a large smile, trying to look right

Florian kept looking at her. Not really sure about what he heard. She never talks to him that way. She wasn’t like that. They weren’t like that.

« Why did you come here exactly ? Why come here, take Youri and disturb him ? »

Florian said

« Are you kidding me ? Flo please stop acting like that. » she said rubbing her temples

« Acting like what ? Like I care about you. »

Rebecca smiled while she shook her head. He was trying to play her. She wasn’t falling for it. Not anymore. And deep down she wanted to beat her own ass for falling for it for so many years.

« Florian, you do not care about us. You showed it once again today. You knew how important it was for us. And once again you didn’t choose us. I came here with our son so you can understand I’m not your prisoner. It’s not because you put us in a big house, got us monitored by a bodyguard and gave us money that I can not leave you. You took us for granted for enough time» she chuckled « Leave you, sorry, i don't think it fit us well since we’re not together and we don’t really exist. »

She stopped talking when Youri came running to them with his tablet.

« Can we take a picture ? » he asked showing all his teeth

« Ow baby Mumy is not looking really good right now, take one with Tata » Rebecca said trying to hide her clenching jaw.

She was emptying her bag, but she couldn’t lose face either in front of her son or in front of Florian. She was trying so hard to look strong.

All those words were in her mind for a lot of time now, but she never confessed them to anyone. And now that she was speaking them out loud it was... just so true and so hurting. Tough reality was hitting her hard.

What hurted her the most was that she was in this situation because of her own decision. Her own hopes.

« Please just one of three of us, I don’t have a lot of it » Youri said in a pleading voice

Rebecca licked her lips and smiled softly. She looked at Florian, staring into space.

Youri had to rub his daddy thigh to catch back his attention for the picture. After taking few ones, the little boy walked away again.

Rebecca’s words were resonating in and messing with Florian's head. Even if he knew it, he didn’t want that breaking point to come.

« And please stop acting like few nights in a hotel gon disturb our son, when he had to live with a ghost father his entire life. Hear me out, I will never try to take away your son from you. But don’t act like I’m a bad mother. I'm just done going last. » Rebecca said finally looking at him

Florian was speechless. It was like his soul was out of his own body. Was it a dream ? More a nightmare. He felt every beat of his heart and every blood pulsation in his hands. Was she leaving him ?

He didn’t find the words and the excuses he listed before. It was like they were all gone after what Rebecca said. It was so hard to hear.

« I’m sorry. » Florian finally said before clearing his throat. He looked back at her, finally catching her eyes since the beginning of the conversation

Rebecca swallowed hard.

« I’m so sorry you feel that way. I'm sorry about the way I acted. I’m sorry calling you dumb. I never wanted to say you were a bad mother, I know how amazing you are. »

Rebecca sniffed trying to keep her face straight and not to cry. But it was so hard once she was drowning in his eyes. It was so hard. If her ego wasn’t hurt so badly, she might be in his arms right now. Telling him how much she missed him. How much she wanted him.

But he made a choice today. And she made hers.

« Look, use the house card for the hotel, stay how much you need to. Just tell me when you leave. I will text you my new phone number when I get one. » Florian said in soft voice while getting up and coming in front of her

She looked up at him, nodding her head for only answer. He ran his tongue over his upper gum looking at her while she got up.

She was looking so good. He missed her. More than in one way. While Elizabeth has the right to come for conjugal visit, Rebecca has to fill the lack of Florian by other ways. And it was killing him. Because only god knew how much he missed her.

« Whatever you decide, I be there and the house doors will always be open. You know that Becky, it’s yours.» Florian said grabbing the side of her neck while brushing his thumb on her jaw.

She nodded her head once again. Except that this time tears dropped her eyes. He was the man who hurted her the most, but he was also her best friend and her soulmate. It was such a hard war.

« Shhh baby don’t cry, we gon find a solution » Florian said, taking her in his arms.

What Florian really meant was trying to find a solution where it was not an option to lose her. Even if he hurted her, he wasn’t giving up on his rib.

—-

Last step. Florian took his time for this one. It’s already been more than one hour since he came back to his crib in Yorkville.

Sitting in his arm chair he watched the neighborhood move in front of him. Once called German Broadway, he appreciates being here. It reminds him of some places in Munich.

He tried to draw strength from the city to get up and manage his last duty. But it was more difficult than he thought. Mostly after what Rebecca told him. Minutes kept flowing and Florian couldn’t get up.

« Flo, is that you ? » a sweet soft voice said behind him.

Florian closed his eyes before turning back to his wife.

« Lizzy what are you doing up darling ? »

Elizabeth walked through him slowly before sitting on his lap. She rubbed her eyes before putting a lock of blonde hair behind her left ear. She ran her fingers in his beard before kissing his forehead.

« Welcome home baby » she whispered

Elizabeth Strauss. Daughter of Eugen Strauss and Natalia Strauss. Only child, she was always been really close to them and she has always been their biggest pride and investment.

Thanks to that, she didn’t have difficulties when she came to the US, six years earlier. His parents made sure she could move there just after marrying Florian.

They also made sure she could talk English, French, German, Spanish, Chinese, Portuguese and had a degree in a recognized European university. She was just brilliant.

Unfortunately Elizabeth also had trouble. More than one. But Eugen and Natalia made sure to manage them and kept them hidden from the public eyes.

« Come get some sleep, you must be exhausted » Elizabeth said

She got up, grabbed Florian’s hand who was on her back and pulled it. Florian got up slowly and followed her.

« Let me take a shower first » he said letting go her hand « I join you, go rest, it’s late »

He watched the shadow of his wife go away in the dark place before going through the bathroom.

When he laid down in his bed, he finally felt more relaxed. He knew his troubles were far from being solved. But it was less tense than few hours ago.

And being in his bed ? His own bed. Damn it was priceless. Florian was a big and tall man, jail’s bed was torturous for him. He turned to his left side, inhaling the sheets when his eyes felt on Elizabeth.

She was a beautiful woman. He couldn’t deny it. Everytime he looked at her, he didn’t know what he felt. She was kind and caring. But she wasn’t Rebecca.

It was like that since their six years of marriage and also since they knew each other, he didn’t know so much about her. They had some conversation, he knew her qualities and her defects. He even knew the name of her main co workers. But he didn’t feel the same way toward his Becky.

He laid back and thought about the day who fucked up what he wanted for Rebecca and him.

—-

Few years earlier

The road to the Munich airport was silent. Florian and Rebecca were sitted in the back of a cab.

She was looking at the landscape through her shades while he was looking at her. He tried to make contact. He knew they needed to talk. But he didn’t know if she was ready for it.

Florian put his hands on her thigh but she didn’t react. The nine flight hours will be hard since she didn’t even want to talk.

When they arrived at the airport the cab man helped them to get their suitcase out of the truck and thanked them. Florian thanked him too but Rebecca didn’t answer.

She stopped making efforts two days ago.

It was embarrassing Florian but he also understood it. Everything didn’t go well this week.

Florian decided that time had come to introduce his girlfriend to his Family. They were both so excited about it. Rebecca even started learning some German, so she could make basic conversation.

They spent the first day making a tour town. Florian showed her everything single spot he loved and she liked the stars he had in his eyes when he was telling her stories about them.

The day after, they finally got to the family house. It was at this moment things started to get bad.

Florian already talked about her to his family, even showed her. But as a friend. Now that it was more than that, some of them weren’t down for it.

Florian was kind of over taken by the situation. He didn’t know what was the issue. She was smart, kind, warm and beautiful. Moreover she was making him happy. It was the most important, wasn’t it ?

Obviously nobody wanted to tell him what was the issue. The only thing he could see was heavy sharing looks between some of them.

Florian reassured her the first night. And the second. She wasn’t stupid, something was wrong. But she kept trying to be herself and make a good impression. All she got was weak smiles and cold faces.

She couldn’t understand a word they were saying. So she hoped that her boyfriend would be a good translator, but sometimes she felt he rather not.

Rebecca thought she had come with her mate and that they had each other back no matter what. But at the end of the day she didn’t feel that way.

« How you find her » Florian asked to his parents, his shoulder in the kitchen door frame

They looked at each other drinking their coffee, then at him.

« Come sit son » his father said

« She seemed to be a nice woman. » his mother said, turning the page of her newspaper.

Florian looked at her waiting for the next part. He didn’t like the cold face she had on since they were here

« But ? » Florian said

« But maybe you should reconsider this. » she said

« Why ? What’s wrong ? » he said, putting his hands on the table.

« Baby, maybe in the US it’s ok, but you got to think in the long term. You maybe have things in common I can hear that. And she really seemed nice again. But don’t you forget you also have a lot of differences. She doesn’t even speak German. Are you planning to marry her ? Is she even Protestant ? What about your children, how are you going to raise them ? What about the legacy, Munteanu had always been-« his mother stopped her sentence feeling that she was losing it

Florian stared at her. Not really sure about what he heard. His parents raised him with values and respect and diversity was one of them. He always had plenty of people of color for friends even in the business. And it never seemed to bother them. What was this suddenly reversed speech ?

« Munteanu had always been ? » he repeated the sentence so he can have the last part

« White. Your mother means that Munteanu had always been white » his father said

—

Rebecca put the last touch of her make up before checking on herself. She squinted her eyes, not sure that she had well hidden her dark circles. She left the bathroom and checked that she had everything she needed in her bag.

She grabbed Youri’s backpack when her phone started ringing. She looked at her screen, cleared her throat and accepted the call.

« Good morning Tory »

« Hi boss, you’re ok ? »

« Yea I’m great and you ? Do you need anything ? » Rebecca said putting her purse on her shoulder and closing the door.

Tory was one of her employees for two years now. She was a talented black seamstress. Her advices were useful to Rebecca more than once. And that’s exactly why she chose to work with her.

When Rebecca decided to launch her own clothes line, Second Skin, she wanted to be an inclusive company. But above that, she wanted to surround herself with talented, experienced, fresh, even daring people of color.

Tory was one of her associates she trusted the most. Not just because she already had a lot of experience but mainly because was a hard worker. Whatever happened to her, she always showed up or find a way not to give up on the team.

« I’m good, but my daughter felt sick this morning. I think she caught the flu. I call you to tell that I will work from home today, Lucy will bring me the fabric »

« Oh I hope it’s not too bad, take your day if you need to » she said walking walking through the hallway

« No it’s ok, I can make it. I will warn you if it goes bad and I can’t make enough pieces » she answered

« Ok keep me update, good luck to you »

She said looking at the elevator doors

« Yes ma ‘am, have a nice day »

« You too, thank you for calling me Tory »

Rebecca let slip her phone in her bag and left the elevator. She walked down the hall and went through the food area. She stopped for a second, looking for her men, when she heard Youri called her. She snapped her head and started walking towards him.

Florian looked towards her. His heart skipped a beat when his eyes finally met her. It was like he had forgotten how beautiful she was every time he saw her.

This morning, he showed up early in their room asking her if he could catch up the breakfast he missed. What she agreed, of course. She knew Youri will be delighted by this, she was down for it.

But her heart was still heavy from the last day. So she decided to let them have some time together.

Florian got up, welcoming her to the table. He put his wide hand on her waist and pulled her in a side hug.

One part of her wanted to make him sit, sit herself on his broad thigh and hug him for the rest of the day. But the hug was fast, almost running.

Florian kept her wrist when she got down to kiss Youri. He wanted her in his arms. Why does she get to be this fast ?

While she was making sure her son had eaten everything he needed for his breakfast, Florian caressed Rebecca’s hand, noticing that something was missing.

They both sat, face to face. A waiter came to ask Rebecca if she wanted to order something.

« May I have a lemon tea please « she said softly

She touched Youri’s head, smiling at him and looked at Florian. He was staring at her neck and looked at her eyes. She landed back her eyes through her son quickly.

Florian stuck his back to his chair, rubbing his beard, still looking at her neck. Something was missing there too. And he didn’t really appreciate it. He blinked a few seconds when her tea arrived.

He chewed his inner cheek and cleared his throat

« It’s all you gon have for breakfast ? » he pointing at her cup of tea

« Yea, I’m not hungry at all » Rebecca said touching the tea bag

« Mmh, you used to be greedier in the morning « he told her, with a salace tone, looking at their son then back to her

She didn’t answer, just blew on her tea. She wasn’t playing this game.

---

Few years earlier

« Daddy » Rebecca whispered arching her back and grabbing her pillow

It’s all she could say. It’s all she could have screamed or whispered. She suffered every Florian’s thrust. And she loved it so much.

When they were in a regular dating relationship, Rebecca and Florian had few sharing hobbies. Food, Night clubs, weird films, nap and sex. Morning sex was their favorite.

He had a shitty day the day before and he crashed to Becky’s crib. She cooked and set a chill zone for him. He even had the right to be massaged.

The way her fingers were touching him was sinful. He knew she knew what she was doing. He will take care of it tomorrow. He knew it wouldn’t be a big deal for her.

But the morning after, he was waking up by wet kisses in his neck and a fucking beautiful woman on top of him. She was too good. And she needed to be rewarded for this.

Florian kept thrusting in her deeply, earning moans and preases. The view he had gave him the need of an endless memory. Her skin, her flesh, her stretch marks. This view was priceless.

The combination of sounds he was hearing triggered something in him. He knew he would bust out if he didn’t focus a little.

Florian let his head drop to the back and breathe hardly. He shook his head, trying to get himself together before slapped Rebecca’s ass.

« You’re driving me crazy » he tried to say before slapping her ass once more « You know that »

She couldn’t answer anymore. She was about to cum. Her face was stuck to the mattress and split was slowly dropping from her mouth.

She was addicted to this feeling. The goosebumps on her skin, his large hands gripping her hips, the giggling of her small boobs, the hard trust and of course her coochie overstimulated.

She found the strength to put herself on her elbows and looked back at her boyfriend smirking at her.

« There you go » he grunted grabbing her neck

She wanted this activity to last forever. She wanted to start every single day this way.

---

« I can drop you » Florian said, lighting his cigarette in front of the hotel door.

« I took my car, thanks for proposing »

Rebecca said grabbing her car keys in her purse

« You’re sure ? » he asked a second time. Maybe she will accept. She was tough in business, but he used to manage her. He used to.

« Yes. Youri say goodbye to Tata, we’re gon be late for school. » she told rubbing her son back

Youri stepped closer to his father hugging his thigh. Florian got down and kissed his blood forehead.

« Have a nice day Champ, be the greatest you can be, alright ? » he whispered

« Alright ! » Youri said smiling at her dad

« I love you son » he told him

« ich liebe dich auch / I love you too Tata » hugging him tight

Florian got up and took another puff of his cigaret looking at Rebecca. She stepped toward him and hugged him quickly. She didn’t really want to, but she didn’t want Youri to feel animosity between them.

Once again Florian found this hug too fast, so he grabbed her wrist trying hold her back.

« Hey have a nice day » he said putting some of her braids behind her shoulder

« Yea you too Florian » Rebecca said grabbing Youri’s hand.

She unlocked her car, settled Youri in his chair and closed his door. She was ready to jump in her car when Florian called her

« Becky ! » he said loud enough so she can hear him

She snapped her head looking at him.

« Where are your attributes ? »

It is how they used her jewelry. A queen shouldn’t have to be out without her attributes, he said.

Rebecca looked at the ground and raised her shoulders

« I quitted the job » she said before getting in the car.

Being a side chick, raising her son with a ghost baby daddy, hiding that the love of her life was working for illegal businesses, feeling like she wasn’t good enough for him, pretending all this situation was ok, yeah, she was quitting it.

Florian looked at the car getting away.

She did what ?

—-

Wassssup yall

Let me know what you think

Xoxo

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#florian munteanu #florian big nasty munteanu #thicc daddy flo #florian munteanu x black reader #florian munteanu headcanons #big nasty #bignasty #fanfic

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